#personal angsty crap

[wonder-and-wildflowers]

I love being aroace, but I desperately need friends who will prioritize me and won't make me their second choice without it turning into them having a crush on me.

Being pushed aside for a romantic partner hurts. Being less of a priority to someome I've known for YEARS than someone they've known for like 3 months is DEVASTATING.

Having a friendship with someone who prioritizies me and puts me first and is intentional about the effort and time they put in is all I want. And call me selfish but I want them to do it without falling in love with me.

I want them to do it platonically. Or alterously.

And you know what? I'm sick of people having crushes on me. I'm sick of friends building an entire relationship with me just to come out and say they only did it cause they wanted to kiss me. Or fuck me. Or both.

And then they get angry because I don't see them that way. They get resentful because they acted like thidls and behaved this way with the intention of is being a romantic investment.

And now I have to deal with the emotional distress of having someone pour so much into me, love me, prioritize me, doing a complete 180. And them resenting me for being upset that their behavior towards me has changed.

Them being resentful that I still expect thier usual behavior, because to me those were stardards for a platonic relationship that they set with me, and to them it was all a ploy to get me to be their girlfriend. They don't want a qpr. Thats never good enough for them.

[weedle-testaburger]

ok, that was funny

[sluttish-armchair]

Was going to animate. Did so for maybe twenty minutes. Heard a loud bang from a trash can. Envisioned my books being thrown in there by my angry father. Booked it downstairs. Parents are fine. Books are fine. Am tired.

[maiverie]

THE RAIN HAS AN EDGE ╰ ﹙ ☁️ ﹚ft. park sunghoon ﹕ a oneshot ﹙ preview ﹚

you are the girl with an umbrella on a rainy day, and sunghoon is the boy at the bus stop drenched from head to toe.

in a nutshell ﹒ there’s a heavy downpour so you hold an umbrella over sunghoon and he looks at you like you’re crazy // 100% fluff

word count ﹒ preview is 1.5k; full ver ~6-7k

fic one of the chasing rainbows series ﹙ coming soon ! ﹚

“true, the sun and the wind inspire. but the rain has an edge. who, after all, dreams of dancing in the dust? or kissing in the bright sun?” — cynthia barnett

now playing ﹒ paris in the rain﹙ lauv ﹚

THE FIRST TIME you talk to park sunghoon, it’s raining, it’s cold, and jake had ditched you to “hang out” with chaewon, because he’s a crappy friend who pounces at any opportunity for female attention.

after your study session in the school library finishes, you find yourself standing at the school’s front entrance, grimacing at the downpour of rain in front of you. heavy pellets pummel from the sky like bullets, forming puddles in the divots of the ground and lowering the temperature enough to make you shiver. 

lucky for you, you remembered to bring your umbrella.

this was a habit of yours even on the sunniest of days, after spending five days bedridden with a fever following The Great Downpour of 2020.

when you reached for your backpack and unfurled your umbrella, it sprung to life and off you went, hopping down the cement paveway that led to the nearest bus stop.

you’re just about to slip in your earphones when you stop in your tracks, spotting a figure a few steps ahead of you. 

the person is crouching on the ground at the bus stop, hunched over and hugging their bookbag in an attempt at gathering warmth. 

the person is drenched and miserable.

and practically radiating angst and despair.  

because you’ve always been a totally (impulsive) caring and selfless person, you shuffle over and hold your umbrella over the person’s head.

they look up — and just when you encounter a cold gaze, dark brows and raven hair — you realise that the moody figure is none other than park sunghoon.

park sunghoon, the ridiculously good-looking senior everybody whispers about but doesn’t actually know anything about. 

park sunghoon, the guy who always wears a stoic, unsmiling expression that makes him the most unapproachable of his group of friends. 

and park sunghoon, the one who’s staring at you with a baffled and slightly distrustful expression on his face. 

oh.

you’re just standing here, staring at him like a creep. 

crap.

you should say something.

you open and shut your mouth a few times, trying to brainstorm what you might possibly say. you want to sound smart. and funny. and cool. so, naturally, the first thing that comes out of your mouth is a very intelligent and super profound, “it’s, uh. . . raining.”

sunghoon continues to stare, his brows slightly furrowed to suggest he was questioning your sanity. 

“it’s raining,” you stupidly repeat louder, as though he hadn’t heard you over the rain. 

“good catch,” he replies, his gruff voice coinciding with the slight dip of his lips. 

the rumors are so true. 

sunghoon definitely has a very grumpy, rather angsty demeanour. you’ve actually spotted him around school a few times (you may or may not follow him with your eyes every time he’s around. is that a crime? it can’t be! you’re not the only one in the student body who finds him extremely attractive and painfully enigmatic), but he’s not the kind of person you can approach so easily.

in fact, he’s been coined the nickname ice prince for a reason.

“yes, uh,” you struggle to string together a coherent set of words, especially because he stands to his feet now, and you have to make the effort to not be intimidated by his height. 

“what i meant to say is that it’s raining but you don’t have an umbrella,” you laughed awkwardly, wanting to whack your head and yell stupid, stupid, stupid for impulsively waddling over here and saying stupid things to park sunghoon of all people. “i-i mean, obviously it’s a free country and you can totally do whatever you want, but, as you might already know — and i’m sure you do because you’re one of the smartest kids in school — standing in the rain can get you sick, like, really sick, and i only know this because about three years ago i forgot my umbrella and — funny story — i ended up getting so sick that i had to take five days off school because my fever was so high.”

oh god.

you quickly slap the tips of your fingers over your lips to physically restrain yourself from talking. the motion makes sunghoon’s gaze quickly flit to your lips, before they bounce back up to your eyes.

his stare is so painfully emotionless that you cringe inwardly.

you wish he’d say something.

anything. literally anything.

but he’s silent.

well, of course he is — you basically just trauma dumped about your stupid fever story. boo-hoo, you were sick from the rain — who cares?

just when you think you’ve reached the death of the conversation, you’re surprised by the sound of his soft voice.

“. . . niki.”

huh?

you blink, leaning in slightly so that you can hear him better.

“. . . niki. my brother. he took the last umbrella.”

oh.

your lips form a small o as you nod in understanding. “oh, niki! that doesn’t surprise me. he’s in my class, you know, and he’s always playing pranks on our teacher. one time he actually hid the test papers so we got a whole extra day to study,” your voice lowers to a whisper, “can’t believe i still failed it though. . .”

sunghoon doesn’t say anything, and afraid of being submerged in awkward silence again, you rush to fill in the space. 

“so where’s niki now?”

he shrugs. “soccer practice, probably.”

“oh,” you frown. “wait, aren’t you part of the soccer team, too? you’re the goalie. you saved so many goals last season and helped the team to their first win in two years,” you say, though your eyes widen in panic as soon the words leave your mouth, “n-not that i’m a stalker, or anything,” you frantically add, “it’s just that everyone knows you’re the goalie because one, it’s common knowledge, and two, the game is coming up and we’re all on the edge of our seats to find out how it goes!” 

stupid stupid stupid. 

why are you rambling so much? 

sunghoon doesn’t seem to mind, though his lips flatten in a rather sour manner. “i quit the team, actually.”

you gasp. “you’re the person jake is replacing? he’s been so cocky ever since it was announced that he’d be on the team. what made you quit?”

he shrugs, “it got boring,” he mumbles, then his ears turn slightly red and he dips his head in an emotion you never imagined park sunghoon could wear — embarrassment. “and i accidentally sprained my ankle.”

you blinked in surprise. “how?”

he hesitates before answering. “i tripped.” 

you stifle a laugh at the irony, because while sunghoon was a lot of adjectives — tall, handsome, mysterious, brooding, kind of scary, even — you never thought he was clumsy.

you softly cackle, earning you a glare from the boy. 

“sorry,” you grin playfully, growing accustomed to his icy aura. “i just never pictured you as a klutz.”

“says you,” he grumbles, “weren’t you the one who tripped and fell in the cafeteria last week? ”

“what—” you choked, “you saw that?”

he exhaled through his nose in amusement. “who didn’t?” sunghoon raised a brow at you. “i’m pretty sure someone recorded and posted it. the caption was ‘dumbass fails to do simple task and ends up with food all over her clothes.’”

your eyes slammed shut before they shot open. “fucking jake,” you growled, gripping the umbrella tightly. “i’m going to kill him.”

sunghoon chuckled, and the sound made your heart beat a little faster. you caught a fleeting glimpse of his smile which — by the way — showcased the most emotion you had ever seen from the boy. it couldn’t be helped that your stomach mangled and twisted at his pearly-white boyish smile, one that made his cheeks bunch up his face and his eyes twinkle like stars.

how pretty.

his smile faded as quickly as it appeared, however, and you soon found yourself facing his usual blank expression again. 

you want to try say something that might make him smile or laugh again, but he suddenly steps outside of the cage of your umbrella and raises his hand, hailing down the incoming bus. 

it slowly stops by the road beside the two of you, marking the end of your little interaction. 

“oh, your bus is here,” you force a smile, rather disappointed. “i’ll, um, see you later, sunghoon.”

“get home safe,” he retrieves his bus card from his pocket, glancing over his shoulder before he boards his bus. “and thanks. for the umbrella.” 

“n-no problem!” you quickly smile, “and by the way, my name is—”

“i know your name,” he interjects, and you think your mind is playing tricks on you when you see the edges of his lips twitch upward. “see you around.” 

sunghoon disappears into the bus and it whizzes by you, though you stay frozen in your feet for what feels like forever. 

he knows your name.

he’ll see you around.

you tuck your lip between your teeth, cheeks and ears flaring up.

and he wants you to get home safe.

.

( to be continued )

this is a preview only ﹒ full fic is estimated 6-7k ﹒ taglist open — send an ask, dm, or reply !

a/n . btw this is a preview only. the full fic might come out next week ? anyway my first hoonie fic and it's 100% pure, unadulterated fluff <3 this is inspired by paris in the rain + the above quote + an exo fic i adore ^^ hope u all liked it :) see u in the full version maybe 🤓

[strawberrynightmere]

heyyyy <3 can i request an andrew x virgin insecure reader? i feeln kind of angsty tday :')

if you do smut, id like to request him taking like readers virginity (no ashley, no incest.)

It took me a long while of thinking of whether I should write it or not.

I'm not very good at writing smut, but I hope this is good enough.

Headlock [Decay! Andrew x Fem! Reader]

Warning ⚠️ : dark content, toxic friendship(?) (Ashley), mentioned murder, sexual content/18+/nsft(?), I have no idea how the Decay route goes, but neither do you, so let's half-ass it. It had a plot, but that got dropped halfway. The title? I guess. Again, I'm not good at this.

A/n: it's not exactly as requested

🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸

How did you get involved in this? It all started when a 'parasite' was found in the buildings' water pipes and the inhabitants got quarantine. Only later did you find out that you were all being starved to death so your organs could be harvested.

Why you were still staying with the Graves siblings is a question you had no answer for. Was it because you three were criminals, or simply because you didn't want to be alone anymore? Maybe the quarantine did its toll on your mental wellbeing?

Who knows?

Andrew was nice, normal-ish, and chill person to be around. Maybe you caught some feelings for the guy, but let's be honest, compared to the crimes you committed with them, your "little" crush is the last thing to come to your mind.

And then there's Ashley...

She tends to be, how would you put it? Brutally honest? Sometimes rude? Wellmeaning... in her own twisted way? Alright, now you're just trying to defend her. She tends to passive-aggressive comments about your body as if she knows about your insecurities. For some god forsaken reason, you just chuck it up and think it's her messed up way of helping, even if her comments did make you cry once you were alone.

Yeah, it's terrible.

But there were times when you two would just interact normally. And by that, I mean you just listened to her talk and complained about Andrew on what he did or who he was with.

You noted not to interact with him when she was around.

But boy, oh boy! Did things drastically change when Andrew came back alone.

🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸

You jolted when the door of the motel room was busted open. To your relief, it was just Andrew. But where is Ashley?

"Where's Ashley?"

"She's not gonna be a problem anymore."

"What do you mean by..." You end up trailing off as you notice the blood on his hands.

"Exactly what I said." He replied.

What are you going to do now... how are you supposed to react to the news that Andrew just brought?

"Wh- ha?! What are we gonna do now?"

Andrew just rubbed his face, clearly tired.

"I'll think about it tomorrow." What sort of crap answer was that?! He just killed his own sister and the only one who could get visions. now what are you gonna do?

"I took the charm. We can still use it."

Oh... Well, alright.

🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸

One of Andrew's arms held you in a headlock, and with his free hand, he was rubbing your clit in circles.

You try to keep your moans down, as you were embarrassed by the sound that could get out. Mind you, this was your first time being intimate with someone.

To your unfortunate surprise, Andrew gently bit and licked from the nape of your neck going upwards, which made you gasp loudly. He quickened the pace in with his fingers, making you get out small whimpers as you felt close to cuming. However, Andrew had other things in mind as he removes his fingers from your clit and gets you to to turn around and face him.

For a scrawny-looking guy, he sure had a lot of strength and stamina.

He hooked one of your legs around his waist as you held on to his shoulders, trying to keep yourself balanced. You feel his hand hold your lower back, and you feel the tip of his dick rubbing your clit before moving straight to your hole.

You slapped your hand across your nose and mouth to block out the sound that was gonna abruptly come out of your mouth.

"You're gonna fall like that." The first thing he said since you started this. Andrew guided both of your arms around his neck. "Now hold on tight." He warned before hooking your other leg around his waist. You quietly whine when you feel his member rubbing up and down against your walls as he moves you both to the bed.

Your back hits the soft mattress, your legs loosen up, and your hands go back to holding on to Andrew's shoulders.

Andrew pressed his face onto your shoulder and held your hips with both hands. Once again, you covered your mouth with one hand when he started moving and gripped his hair with the other.

At first, he moved at a slow pace as you had adjusted to his length. He soon picked up the pace, and his tip was hitting a specific spot, which made pressure build up in your lower stomach, which all released and spread warmth through your body when the tip hit that spot againg for the last time making you groan in pleasure.

Feeling numb and tired, you wanted to rest your eyes a bit, which ended up with you falling asleep.

🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸

"You mortals are really something else."

"Bah!" You jump in surprise only to see that it was Lord Unknown floating beside you. You also noticed you had your clothes on again, which meant you were asleep.

"At ease simple soul. As you are aware that you will receive a vision now." The being indicated to the door standing in front of you.

You nervously approached the door and turned the handle, getting it to open.

🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸

A/n: This is as best as I can do, and honestly, I'll just leave it at that. Hope you enjoyed it.

[cheekylittlepupp]

Can we talk about Ascended Astarion and how he actually seems to be lonelier than ever? If you talk to the non romanced version of him he says that even with all of this power and wealth, he feels lonely. I'm starting to think that this is the sad route just as much as it's the evil route.

If you've romanced him, his whole world now revolves around you, he will lovebomb you and never let you go, if you talk about freedom he gets visibly annoyed and replies with "Gods, not this again." How many times was this discussed before? I'm almost 100% sure that you are never getting out of a relationship with him, ever, if you find a way to die this man will probably scour all of Faerûn for a way to bring you back. Or if you want to go the angsty route.

Once he ascends he pushes everyone away and if tav doesn't agree with him he can easily compel them to, talk about an echo chamber. Afterall, he knows best. Everyone is beneath him, their only purpose is to bow and serve and of course, offer their necks.

It reminds me of something he said before about someone, hmm ~

Everything that has happened up to this point, everything you've gone through with him from act 1 up until he ascends is erased. He is once again closed off, unbelieving of love, belives that every type of relationship is just a transaction, that his former self was pathetic, powerless, undeserving of anything and that everything in this world happens only for power. Power, Power, Power.

Sharing his power and wealth with you, providing you with pleasure, what is all of this, if not, love? (funny, this ties up to act 1n2 again huh, intimacy being only transactional) Oh you wanted, love, love? Honesty, sincerity, respect, mutual understanding and all of that crap? Don't be ridiculous, darling.

He is incredibly pushy about making you his spawn because in that way you will never be able to run away from him, you will be forever his.

I do believe that you are special to him, afterall, you were his first everything. The first living creature's blood was yours and we all know how important and special that is, you were the first one who saw him for who he truly is, you were the first one who he was intimate with for the first time after he escaped and wasn't compelled to do so, he had other motives at the time but we all know he caught feelings soon after, you were the first one who listened to him pour his heart out, you are the first person he's ever truly cared for, you were the one standing by his side when you faced Cazzador, you were the one who helped him with the ritual, you helped him sacrifice all of those souls, you pushed him, you were there through all of it, YOU.

So once he finally receives the power that he's lusted after, he will secure you any way he can, he will promise you everything, he will say everything that you want to hear, god forbid he is ever alone again and lose you.

All of this ties up to him being possesive, he's co-dependent on you, always watching, always having his eyes on you, his prized treasure, his beloved pet, his dark consort, the only thing he truly has. You will be together forever, until the world falls down, be it by force or your free will.

[sukunasdumbestchef]

way how i see you (long story version)

trueform!Sukuna x Blind!fem!reader.

꒰A beautiful woman, with a pleasant life, nothing could get better… However, one unexpected day put you in a horrible situation, your husband beat you to have money and 'honor', putting you in an arranged marriage with the cruel and merciless Ryomen Sukuna. However, you hide a secret, you are blind.꒱

╭ ➤୨୧ Warning: Angsty, Arranged marriage, [name] had a shitty husband. Crap story with crap writing (I have no self confidence <3)

╭ ➤୨୧ Words: + 2,6 what? It looks much bigger when writing…

the other version

bad english.

For obvious reasons, your life changed drastically after your vision got worse, the world around you lost its colors and beauty every day.

Her world became just silhouettes moving around, almost colorless and blurred. But, you were aware of some things, just by looking at the silhouettes, you know how to differentiate an animal from a human, or if someone uses hair accessories. You weren't completely blind, but you were blind enough to be considered blind and have difficulties.

However, you noticed that no one noticed your loss of vision. You continued your life, pretending everything was fine. Your loss of vision became a big secret, which you tried hard to keep, afraid that your life would get worse and you would end up alone.

Today in the village, someone caught everyone's attention, you couldn't see the person properly, but you recognized a male voice. The man informed everyone in the village with his loud and clear voice: "… The King of Curses wants volunteers for a marriage…" These were the words that left everyone's jaw dropped, he continued "… The most eye-catching one will win, and the family will gain reward and honor." And that was it, the entire crowd was speechless, moved by money and the honor of marrying such a grotesque but divine man as the King of Curses. But most of all, the people were afraid to refuse, that the king would get enraged and end their lives and stories in the blink of an eye.

You obviously refused, there are so many other women, all different and talented. You were heading back to your home, but you were stopped by your own husband, a grip your arm. "Where are you going? Didn't you listen to him? You're perfect…" He says, you look at him confused. The husband pulled her back to that man, raising his arm against her will, you try to push him away. "Here! This young lady! The most beautiful! The most intelligent! Take her with you!" Her husband screamed, you pushed him, accidentally hitting him in the face, you successfully let go of his grip. You were going to retort, but people pushed you to follow the girls and the two people.

You can't see anything, the silhouettes will blend together and you won't be able to distinguish the crowd of people. You felt a strong grip on your arm, your eye noticed something light in color and a voice said. "Start walking, we don't have all day." You analyzed where the voice came from, without success when trying to differentiate which gender this voice was from. However, the light-colored clothing made it easier to follow.

You were probably crying already, turned around, seeing only the big gate of the village, you couldn't even see your husband anymore… who literally gave you to another man as merchandise. Eyes filled with tears, which made it even more difficult to see. Just follow the white silhouette, said to yourself.

The walk was completely silent. They walked for around 20 minutes or more, you saw a house… you think… your doubt was answered with the sound of the door sliding, and the silhouettes entering. You listened and counted the steps of others, locating yourself and finding out where the steps would be. You were mentally thankful that it was bright inside, the light and dark tones of people's kimonos were different, as was their hair.

"Ladies, these women are going to help you get ready for the big meeting with the king." The male voice said.

"I hope you are not reckless and disrespectful towards the king, know your place, and only speak if he addresses you…" The person with light hair said, this person sounded colder and crueler than the other guy. But, they was giving you a warning so you don't die because of stupidity…

You followed the other volunteers, it was a pleasant room, you guessed it by the good freshly cleaned smell. All the silhouettes sat on the floor facing each other. You did do the same. You hear footsteps coming your way, a silhouette of… a kimono? Flowery? You kick what this person wears. They sit in front of you, "Good afternoon, lady. I'm here to help you dress up formally and beautiful for the king's presence" sounds like a sweet old woman. You smiled, and greeted her.

"Good afternoon ma'am, I appreciate the help" You really appreciate it, it would be a great difficulty to put on makeup and pretend to see clearly.

"Alright, let's begin. The king will come soon…" The woman quickly begins to put white powder on her face, and she touches her lips with a reddish tone. "There, you're very beautiful, my lady…" You felt flushed with the compliment.

"Thank you, but is that all I need to look beautiful in front of the king?" You ask, you actually don't care… you just wanted to get out of here, but… you have no choice.

"The king said he preferred it this way, so he would have a clear view of their natural faces… but, I'm sure he doesn't care." She answered him, giving a small laugh as she stood up. You got up and she helped you put on a Jūnihitoe.

Despite the compliments murmured by the old women, the happy noises from the other volunteers for also wearing a jūnihitoe. You have a huge desire to see yourself wearing this outfit, it wasn't the first time, you wore one like it at your wedding. But, despite the compliments you receive… You didn't see all the details, colors or designs on the fabric. With that all the sadness mixed, you came back to reality… Your husband 'sold' you and you are volunteering to marry the cruelest curse… and what will happen if he doesn't like you?

"You have sad eyes." A whisper from the sweet lady made you come back. You removed the water from your eyes with a finger. "You are so beautiful…. I hope you change that king's cold heart. But even if he doesn't choose you as his wife, maybe you can be a maid or something…" She said, as if it was a good thing.

"No… I'm sure that won't happen." You replied, your voice cracked in the sentence.

"Why?" She asked.

"My eyes are no good… normal people already leave me aside because of that… I imagine he'll throw me away like an animal." You explained, not directly saying it, but it seems that from the small gasp of surprise you heard, she understood.

"Oh, my poor girl… Are you blind? This… is horrible… You can't…" She seems lost for words, but you already anticipated a reaction like this. Before you could speak, the door opens.

"In positions, now. The King of Curses is here and wants this to happen quickly." Someone said, probably the person with white hair. You all took a stand. The sweet woman helped you and whispered:

"I have hope in you." Your expression softened upon hearing the woman's sweet and motivating phrase, even if you don't know her. You really needed that, some comfort.

But that warm feeling in your heart turned into creeps and an overwhelming fear throughout the body, as if you were going to die. Your breathing becomes irregular, thinking if you make one small mistake, everything will result in your dead body on the floor.

Your keen addition hears heavy footsteps in the distance, approaching. The door slides open, making your body shake in harmony. Was it him? You couldn't say, but you looked up for a moment, it was a huge silhouette, you felt a thunderous and terrifying presence and aura. It was him, definitely. The king, Ryomen Sukuna, was in the same place as you.

Swallowed dryly, you felt your throat catch in the process. Your clothes started to itch. You nearly screamed when you felt a poke on your arm.

"Slowly lower yourself to the ground and bow in respect to the king, without eye contact."

That sweet woman whispered to you. Then, you get on your knees, and place your forehead on the floor, your body as close to the floor as possible. Soon after, the entire room becomes silent.

"Get up."

A husky voice spoke to all of you. it was a dark and haunting melody tone worthy of a merciless king that everyone must obey and fear.

At the same moment everyone got up. You hear a snap of fingers that causes a scream from one of the voluteries, a large fall was heard and another followed. Your eyes popped out when you heard the terrible noises, your mind had already formed a terrifying scene. Moving only your eyes, you peeked in the corner of your eye, everything was even more blurry, things started to mix up and you couldn't differentiate

You felt a thousand things at once. Your mind and heart are racing, your entire body is shaking, even your teeth, your eyes are watering, but you hold on, not being able to let even a single tear fall.

Sukuna's large silhouette approached, you could hear the cries of one of the volunteers. Her crying was cut short, replaced by another fall.

"How dare you look at me without permission? Stupid woman… died like the other two. Am I wasting time?" Sukuna complained, giving you goosebumps. They really died…dead, by doing…nothing.

Keeping your head slightly lowered, you're sure you could die just looking at him, and you're not even sure where you're looking, your tears made everything worse. While you were trying to figure out what was going on, you saw something move. Before you tried to find out, you felt a strong poke on your arm, on the side where the sweet old woman was.

Sukuna stared at you, you heard a light chuckle. "Look at me." he ordered. You lifted your face, thanks to the lights you notice his shadow, he is much taller than you. You find yourself imagining his face, your vision of his face was all mixed tones. "You're pale." You didn't respond to him….should you do that?

You saw something approaching his face, it was a hand but there was something dark on it, like bracelets or something. A light touch on your face, but the hand was big and rough, you denied the possibility of it being his, because you didn't believe he would do that. After that, you felt him put strong pressure on your chin, moving your head to the side.

"You're so scared that you don't even know where you should face…" he laughed arrogantly again, and removed his hand. You remain silent, and you see him move again. "I'll…take this one."

Who? You? She herself couldn't say, she wiped her tears trying to see better, and you felt someone approaching you

"You did it…he chose you…" The sweet old woman told you, which made you open your eyes wide in surprise, gasping. You could see the big smile of the old woman, which made you do the same.

"I didn't even know what happened…I feel relieved, thank you very much ma'am!" You thanked her, but you should now follow Sukuna, before that you and the woman removed the junihitoe, returning to wearing your clothes. The lady accompanied you outside, where it was still light and daylight. The wind made you take a deep breath after a long time of suffocation.

"Now…you're after him…Have a great life, my lady…" The lady said, it seems like she mumbled something to someone, but you were very happy to have lived to pay attention. The lady left, and you waved to her, soon after following the huge silhouette of your newest husband and king.

It was a very silent walk, no one said anything, including you. But, all the events made you exhausted, all you wanted was a nap or something like that. But you feel like this is just the beginning.

Now, lifting your head, seeing the enormous light of the setting sun, saying goodbye to the day. You wanted to ask if you were arriving, it would be difficult to walk in the dark. As you walked, you reached the residence where Ryomen stayed. The king entered without saying anything, you feel he was stressed…

"We're here, now back off" The monotonous voice said, you turned to them, thinking it had been addressed to you. The white-haired person just kicked that man out, and turned to you. "This is your new home, make yourself at home I guess." Now they talk to you, you nod your head, turning inside.

It was very empty…. there was only a candle, you couldn't see anything else.

"I am Uraume." They identified themselves, bending down in front of you. "You must be [name], am I right?" , you nodded again, forcing a smile, Uraume seems not to have done the same.

"Yes…" was the only thing you replied, you feel an awkwardness between you two, honestly, you think that this Uraume shouldn't even be human, they seem to be close to Sukuna however…

The room seemed to get darker, meaning it was harder to see. You look around, nervous. Until Uraume interrupts you: "Do you have… something to tell?" This question made you open your eyes, worrying that you weren't hiding the fact of your blindness much. You quickly shake your head

"No, no… I have nothin-"

"You're lying, forgive my impudence. Do you have vision loss?" They interrupted you abruptly, but they at least apologized to you. The direct and raw question made your body freeze and your jaw drop slightly. It seems like your acting failed…

"N-No.. how… wait"

"The old lady told me. I wanted to confirm by asking you." They explained. You felt like…you were going to die or something, like you had committed a sin… You swallowed and took a deep breath, ready to admit everything:

"Yes…I have…I- I'm blind" You said, feeling the tears "But not completely! I can see you…not now, but… I- I can pretend to see everything' I- don't tell him." You made a desperate mess explaining to them, and you still couldn't even see Uraume's reaction.

"I would tell you, but… I think it's better that you tell him, when you're ready, I advise you to be quick though… My king has no patience, and don't keep any other secrets from him…" Uraume replied, in his voice, It wasn't surprising that his secret was exposed. You nodded, wiping away your tears. "Now…I'm going to guide you to your room, I'm going to make sure to keep it well lit, does that help?"

"Yes…" you replied, feeling their extremely cold hand on your arm, they murmured 'excuse me' and guided you to a room, they helped you sit on the floor. The room was pure pitch black, you could see absolutely nothing. Did you hear them leave, is that it? Will they leave you here alone? Even if-

"Here, these are the only candles we have.." They comeback, and lit the candles, but you still didn't see anything, but… you appreciated their action. They poked you, and handed you a cloth. "It's a newer and cleaner kimono, you'll have to dine next to the king every day. Do you need help putting it on?"

"No, thank you. But I'm going to need help getting to… get to where dinner will be." You explained.

"Yes, I understand. I'll be outside the door, you can call me when you're done." You nodded and heard them leave. Now, you needed to get dressed. It wasn't that difficult for someone experienced like you. You sat on the floor, feeling the kimono, knowing what the front of it was. You got dressed. Now…you're going to face a horrendous moment, having dinner with the king… And worse, you have to find a way to tell him your secret.

Feeling fear cover his entire body, thinking about the possibilities he could do when he finds out. Your hot tears returned, you remained on the floor having your little moment. Until the door opens and:

"[Name], Sukuna wants you there now…are you ready?"

That's it, I didn't continue because I thought it would be too long………..

I have a few things to say:

Thank you very much for the notification, I'm really happy. And I'm not posting anything because I was a little busy with things in life..

[engie-ivy]

(I really thought this was gonna be a lot shorter than it is! I still couldn't resist the epilogue😅 Written for @wolfstarmicrofic 30th: Traitor, to add some Fluff to an angsty prompt!)

1651 words

Part Two: Label-Stuff

Remus and Sirius are in a strong, committed relationship.

They just don't know it yet.

Couple-Stuff

"Remus, it's just you and me now, there's no one else left." Mary clutches Remus' shoulders as she looks him in the eyes. "We're the last ones standing, the only ones who haven't succumbed. The others all have fallen. It's just you and me."

Lily rolls her eyes. "Dramatic much, Mary?"

Mary shakes her head disappointedly. "Alice was a lost cause ever since she laid eyes on Frank back in third grade. Then Marlene met Dorcas at the coffeeshop and we lost her pretty soon after that. Of course no one can forget the day Gideon took Emmeline away. And now the unthinkable has happened, and our very own Lily gave in to James Potter, of all people." Mary pats Remus' shoulder. "We're the last ones who are still living our best single lives, free and independent."

"Goodness, Mary," Alice sighs. "You talk like being in a relationship means your life is over. It's just the beginning of a whole new and exciting phase!"

Lily nods in agreement. "I must say, it's a lot better than I thought it would be. There are actually so many new experiences to enjoy in life as a couple!"

"Yeah," Marlene says. "Even that stupid lameass couple-stuff isn't so bad when you have someone whom you enjoy being in a stupid lameass couple with. Like going to the bloody Farmer's Market on Saturday morning and sharing one of those giant, ridiculous caramel syrup waffles."

Mary looks unimpressed. "I spend Saturday morning in my bed after partying on Friday night, because, oh yeah, I still have a life."

"I actually like the Farmer's Market," Remus disagrees. "I usually go with Sirius. He pretends he thinks it's all so lame, but who always wants to share the syrup waffle?" He chuckles fondly.

"It's not just outings either," Lily says. "Just the normal everyday stuff too, like cooking, having dinner, doing the dishes, you never have to do it alone anymore."

"Sitting on my couch in my pj's watching trash tv with a bowl of food in my lap is like the best moment of my day," Mary says. "Never eating alone anymore sounds like a literal nightmare," she shudders.

Remus shrugs. "With Sirius and I being roommates, I haven't really been doing those things alone for years."

Emmeline glances at him. "Well, yeah, I guess you can do those kinds of things with a roommate too, but as a couple, you can add sappy romance to that everyday life! Candlelit dinners, movie dates, walks on the beach, watching the sunset…"

"Why does that have to be exclusively for couples?" Remus protests. "I mean, Sirius and I both love dinner and a movie, or taking the dog to the beach and watching the sunset. We can just do those things together."

Mary gives Remus a strange look, but then focuses back on Emmeline. "I can do all those things with three different guys each week if I want to."

Emmeline shakes her head. "It's not the same as being with the one whom you know is your person."

Alice thinks for moment, trying to find the right words. "Think about it like this," she says slowly. "When you're all dolled up, in full makeup, wearing your best outfit, ready for a night of fun, yes, you can have a good time with anyone. But the best thing about being a couple is that when you feel like absolute crap and look like an absolute mess and just want to stay in bed all day, your person will also be there, taking care of you, bringing you comfort food, making you feel better."

"Sirius has a sixth sense for when I'm having a bad day," Remus says with a soft smile. "Whenever I feel down, Sirius will bring home my favourite chocolate cinnamon buns, which they only sell at a bakery on the other side of town. And he's probably the only one who can make my tea exactly as I like it. He will make sure there's always a mug with hot tea on my nightstand when I'm sick."

Alice tilts her head and studies Remus thoughtfully.

Mary arches an eyebrow looking at Remus. "I was gonna say isn't that what you've got a mum for, but apparently, you can also have a roommate for that." She shakes her head. "Anyways, I still don't think having someone to bring me tea when I'm cranky is a good enough reason to have to constantly take someone else into account, deal with jealousy and spend time with in-laws you don't like."

"But even that is suddenly not so bad anymore!" Lily argues. "I always thought that I would hate having to spend my Sundays having dinner with my in-laws, but James is taking me to his parents' house this Sunday for the first time, and I must say, I'm actually excited!"

"Oh, you should be!" Remus says enthusiastically. "Sunday dinners at the Potters' are amazing! I'll tell you, Monty's Sunday roast is to die for!"

The girls all stare at him.

Remus scratches his head awkwardly. "Sirius started taking me with him years ago." He smiles sheepishly. "He says I'm Effie and Monty's favourite by now."

Lily keeps staring at Remus as she continues. "And I'm also going to spend Christmas Day with James' family…"

"Oh," Remus immediately chimes in. "Great! Effie pulls out all stops. Sirius and I always help with-"

"Bloody hell, Remus!" Mary breaks in. "You bloody traitor!"

Remus closes his mouth and blinks at Mary in confusion.

"Here I was, thinking that you were my last ally among the couples, but it turns out that you've been in a bloody relationship with Sirius Black this whole time!"

"I'm in a… With… What?" Remus sputters. "No! Sirius and I are friends, just friends!"

"Remus," Lily says calmly, crossing her arms over her chest. "The only way your relationship with Sirius differs from a couple's, is that you're not having sex with him."

Remus' cheeks turn red and he averts his eyes.

Lily's eyes widen. "Remus John Lupin!" She gasps. "You didn't!"

Remus' face turns bright red as he stares at his hands. "It… happened. Once or twice."

Lily shakes her head. "I can't bloody believe you!"

Remus lifts his head and looks at her defiantly. "Well, can you blame me?" He says defensively. "You know what he looks like! Besides, what's the harm?" He shrugs. "We're both single, but we still both have… urges, so to speak, and we find each other physically attractive, so why not?"

"And do either of you ever sleep with anyone else?" Marlene asks seemingly casually, studying her nails.

"I'm not," Remus says. "I mean, Sirius is just objectively incredibly attractive, no one can deny that, and we have great… uhm, chemistry in the bedroom, so it really wouldn't make sense for me to go out of my way to pick up some random guy. I don't really know about Sirius, but I don't think…" Remus trails off, pausing on the idea of Sirius with someone else and feeling inexplicably nauseous, and suddenly he wants nothing more than to change the subject. "Look, this is all very personal, and none of your business!"

"And do either of you ever date anyone else?" Marlene asks undeterred.

"We're not dating!"

"Fine." Marlene rolls her eyes. "Does either of you ever date anyone?"

Remus shakes his head. "Why would we? Sirius is my best friend for a reason, I can't imagine having a better time with anyone else, and I have zero desire to spend an evening making awkward small talk with a stranger. Besides, we both aren't looking for anything. Sirius does not want to give up on his freedom, and I don't want to deal with all the expectations and accompanying anxiety that come with a relationship."

"Oh, for god's sake, I can't bloody believe it!" Lily pressed the palm of her hand to her forehead. "You and Sirius are both so bloody afraid of commitment, but you completely failed to notice you've been in a bloody committed relationship to each other for years!"

"Sirius' and mine relationship is platonic!" Remus insists. "And, well, sometimes also physical, I guess. Platonic and physical, not romantic. I mean, not that I don't love him. Of course I love him, but more in a way that we complete each other. Sirius just feels like home, he's the only one who…" Remus trails off and runs a hand through his hair. "Wait, what was I saying again?"

Mary gives him a flat look. "I believe you were explaining how you love Sirius and are physically attracted to him, he's your other half and you're safe haven, but oh, all in a purely platonic way of course."

Remus groans and hides his face in his hands. "I'm screwed, aren't I?"

"Jamie?" Lily asks hesitantly.

James hums while he's laying with his head on Lily's lap, as she runs her fingers through his hair (like she has absolutely not been itching to do since fifth grade, no, absolutely not).

"Would you…" Lily is very careful to breach the topic. James isn't exactly good at dealing with change, and she doesn't want to upset him. Remus and Sirius are his best friends, and he might not be happy with the dynamic of their group potentially changing. Besides, those boys are both like brothers to him, so what if it makes him uncomfortable if the relationship between the two of them turns out to be not-so-brotherly?

Lily braces herself. "How would you feel about Remus and Sirius potentially one day being… more than friends?"

James stills, and a moment passes with him just laying motionless with his head under her hand, as Lily holds her breath.

Then James sits up and turns to her, his eyes wide and blinking at her. "Haven't they been a couple for the past three years?"

Read Part Two here!

[melrodrigo]

When The Night Falls - W.A.

Wednesday Addams x Fem!Reader

Summary: Wednesday isn’t soft. But when it comes to a certain someone…

Warnings: Angsty fluffy crap mixed together, mentions of cheating

Word Count: 1.1k

A/N: HA! You guys thought I would do something from the poll? I’m an uncontrollable creature. Also, this is semi inspired by ‘reckless’ by madison beer.

Wednesday Addams was not soft. In fact, that was the last word she would ever use to describe herself.

But today, when she had swung open her door, ready to give whoever woke her up at 2 a.m. hell; she was surprised to find out she felt a little bad after seeing your crying figure.

“Wednesday?” You sniffle, swiping at your eyes desperately in an attempt to look somewhat presentable.

The raven-haired girl stares at you blankly, refusing to give away any of the emotions she was feeling.

Eyes all red and puffy, nose tinted pink; she hated to admit it, you look cute.

The thing was, for the past few weeks, Wednesday’s been feeling weird around you.

At first, she thought that maybe you were using your powers to cast a poisonous spell on her. But on further inspection, she realized you were casting a spell on her, just a very different one from what she expected.

It’s a peculiar feeling, having feelings for someone.

She doesn’t think she’s ever really experienced all that “crush” or “love at first sight” nonsense Enid keeps gushing about.

But right now, with you standing in front of her, she thinks she finally feels those funeral flowers budding all throughout her chest, wrapping itself tight around her heart.

“Do you mind if I come in?” You ask timidly.

Wednesday steps back without a second thought, still staring hard as you walk in. She’s suddenly struck with the realization that you came to her first, out of everyone in the whole school, even her bubbly roommate. It makes her heart sing.

You and Enid had a thing going on. The whole school knew that. You weren’t exactly together, but the look on your face when you talked about Enid was enough for Wednesday to keep her mouth shut about her feelings.

But she came to me, Wednesday thinks.

She walks towards you, tapping you softly on the shoulder.

You whirl, and immediately throw yourself at her, letting your whole body engulf hers.

You hear Wednesday let out a quiet gasp and it makes you giggle a little.

You know she’s not uncomfortable, and you know the tap was an invitation or at least an allowance for you to touch her. You have a bit of a reputation for being the only person Wednesday was willing to let hug her, apart from Enid.

Days spent with Enid usually meant days spent with Wednesday, and by now, you were fluent in the language of her.

“What happened so suddenly that you felt the need to wake me in the middle of the night?” She finally asks, failing to sound sympathetic.

She doesn’t expect it to sound mean, and you know that, so you pay her tone no mind.

“I found Enid w-with Ajax.” You tell her, voice cracking at the end of your sentence, tears welling at the corners of your eye.

Wednesday wasn’t an idiot. She knows what “finding them together” means, and despite all her fondness for the young blonde, she can’t help the anger that stirs in her immediately.

Here you were, crying and troubled over her stupid roommate (crying very prettily might she add), and what, Enid was with Ajax? Of all people?

“I’m sorry to hear that, Y/N. I know how much you adored Enid.” She murmurs, ignoring the instant tugging in her heart at the sight of you wide-eyed and looking up at her.

To her surprise, you giggle a little, and it sends shockwaves through your and her own body.

You reach up gingerly, pausing long enough for Wednesday to refuse your touch if she wants to, but the goth girl stays quiet, and so you brush away some of the bangs that are covering her face.

“It’s okay.” You whisper, staring at her eyes and then her lips. “To be honest with you, that’s not even the whole reason I was crying.”

“Why were you crying then?” She inquires, and you notice her hands flexing at her side.

“I think…I might like someone else. And I was kind of upset, because- I thought Enid really liked me. But I guess not, so it all works out doesn’t it?” You laugh dryly.

Wednesday’s eyes widen at your confession, suddenly feeling squirmish underneath your gaze. Her whole body freezes, and her mouth feels dry.

It would work out if I was your partner, she thinks.

“Relax, Wends.” You murmur, placing your head back down to her chest. Your words seem to calm her down a little.

“It’s funny, I don’t like her anymore, but when she gets with someone else, I get sad. How messed up of me is that?” You tilt your head up, watching Wednesday gulp once before speaking.

“It is a stupid thing to feel.” Is what she answers, racking her brain to think of something better to say.

You hum, and everything goes quiet for a while. You feel safe, in Wednesday’s arms, in her bed, and you don’t care if Enid comes back to the dorm and sees this.

Before you know it, you’re drifting off into some walmart heaven- the smell of Wednesday encompassing you and the softness of her skin pressing against you.

“YN?” She whispers, stirring you from your so-close-to-sleep state.

You hum in question.

“Now that you aren’t interested in Enid, are you interested in anyone?” She asks, trying her best to not sound too interested in what you have to say.

You smile soft, the drowsiness making your critical thinking skills all mushy.

“Yeah, I told you that already.” You tell her and promptly snuggle yourself further into the girl.

When Wednesday finally gathers up the courage to ask you who it is, you’re fast asleep, snoring quietly on her.

-

The next morning, when you wake up alone, feeling the most well-rested you’ve felt in a long time, you barely notice the dark colors of the bedsheets.

It takes you a minute, but you prop yourself up on your elbow, trying to figure out where the hell you are.

But as the events of the night prior come back to you, you find yourself grinning.

“Stop smiling like that. You look weird.” Wednesday quips, and your eyes dart to where she is, hunched over by her typewriter. There’s a glint in her eye that tells you she’s joking.

You flash her another toothy grin, surprised when she sends you a tiny smile back. And then, as if she’s just gotten shy, she turns back to her typewriter and ignores your teasing remarks.

You sigh dramatically and flop back onto her bed.

“I’m gonna sleep here from now on!” You announce.

You take her silence as a quiet acceptance.

[weedle-testaburger]

i think this shot sums up noir better than any other so far

[laluv-469]

"The Other Woman"

synopsis: its a mean one. gojo is cheating on his girlfriend with you and the guilt of sadness of it all is starting to hit you. practically a flashback and a psychological breakthrough contemplating why you tolerate his shit. but whether you continue to is an entirely more difficult question.

content: smut, jjk x reader, cheating gojo satoru x reader, vaginal sex, rough, hair pulling, unprotected, gojo on top, angry sex, dom, angst, asshole gojo, etc idk i dont write smut often lmao

for clarification; gojo would NEVER cheat, at least that's what I think. uh I just had this really neat, angsty idea linked to this song, and I know how to write gojo better than any other character. granted, toji or most definitely sukuna would fit better, but again, don't know how to write those characters as well. i also think this is a very poor interpretation of gojo and his personality, but it cruely exposes his flaws related to being a little boasty f-boy. hope it doesn't disappoint too much, i am not an experienced writer <3

deepest apologies for any typos and grammatical errors. literally editing this at 1 am ♡

word count: 1,526

As much as you hated thinking about it, you were undeniably the other woman. You were the woman Gojo would sneak out of the room to text once his girlfriend fell asleep. You were the woman he would call when he got lonely and sad. You were the woman he would take out on secret dates across town. And, of course, you were the woman Gojo would ruthlessly fuck at the local motel. 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“Fuckkk” Gojo would greedily groan as he slid his thick member in and out of your squelching hole. “You're nothing like her…” He chuckled to himself in awe as his grip on your hips tightened. 

“So- fuckin’ tight~!” He bared through gritted teeth.

You shifted your weight slightly, burying your head down into the sheets with furrowed brows. Your long locks of hair fell loosely over your shoulders, draping down over your forehead. You only hum lazily in response, a bored expression on your face as he pounded into your little pussy. 

God, he felt painfully good, but you hated when he compared you to her. You hated the way it made you think too much. And for awfully too long. Your eyes drifted off into long, angry thought. Gojo noticed this, and he also hated when you weren't receptive to him.

He had you bent over on your stomach,  breasts smushed against the sheets as his hips rolled against your ass. The man lowered himself to your head, his warm breath tickling your neck. In a swift motion, he moved his hands toward your stomach and pressed firmly, pushing himself deeper inside you. His thrusts soon became rough and intentional… like he was testing your limits. 

He managed to get a whimper out of you, your face contorting slightly with his change in pace. “Nngh~”

You tried to remain nonchalant though, turning your face away from him, not letting him see your arousal. 

With the hand that wasn't clenching your stomach, he pulled a large chunk of your hair to the left, forcing you to meet his piercing eyes. They were narrow and.. almost dark with deep passion.. anger.. whatever it was your actions made him feel. 

“Not feelin’ it hon?” He questioned with only slight irritation in his voice. 

"Am I doing a crap job, hm?” He asks in a low voice, humor and frustration swirling into one. 

Both of your heads were bobbing up and down with the intensity of his thrusts, heavy pants accompanying that. Still, he managed to stare into your soul as awaited your response. The room was filled with nothing but the sound of skin slapping and the reserved whimpers you let out through tight lips. 

You avoided his eyes, closing them while trying to endure the pain. Each thrust sent him further inside you, his hips barely moving away from yours. It's like he was nearly locked in place with you, his hips bucking back and forth, keeping a small distance between your bodies. His grip on your body was tight, holding onto your hair and waist like his life fucking depended on it.

He scoffed at your silence, yanking at your hair again, harder this time, causing your head to whip back. You finally broke, your mouth was open and now loud. He seemed to have reached your core, repeatedly hitting that sweet spot. Each time, you swore you saw stars. It's like he was becoming one with you, his entire size stuffing you grossly. 

“Ah, ah ah!! S-Satoru-nn!!” You pleaded, your voice loud and squeaky, yet barely coherent.

“Don't- fucking ignore me…” He spoke in a low growl, his voice breaking in a similar manner to yours. 

He placed his temple against yours, your foreheads now pressed against each other as his movements grew more sloppy and erratic. His grip on your hair was still tight, practically using it for support as his body moved restlessly against you. Your scalp wss being stressed, strands sure to fall out after it's next brush.

“What's wrong, hm? Before.. I-” He stopped, struggling to speak and fuck you at the same time, “Before I pull out.. tell.. me” He panted heavily in an ugly rhythm with your moans, a lewd melody of slaps and grunts filling the air. 

He was close, you felt him throb inside you, and you were too. Your walls began to enclose, almost trapping him inside your hole. “Tight fuckin’ cunt…” He grunted lowly, chuckling to himself once again at the marvel that was your pretty little pussy. 

You shut your eyes tight as your orgasm neared, mouth gaped open, trying to find the right words. What could you possibly utter to him? You hated that he was in this secret “relationship” with you.. yet you let it fly. Why, though? Speak up, tell him! And so you did.

In broken words and whimpers, “Break.. up with her..” You regretted the words as soon as they escaped your lips, biting your entire lower lip in immediate guilt.

Gojo's hips stuttered a bit, your words clearly catching him by surprise. But you were too lost in the rhythm to stop. You felt a rising sensation in your stomach, a hungry desire to completely let loose everywhere. It was strong, so very strong, and you just needed this orgasm so badly. Your pussy was puffy and throbbing, his large member surely leaving you sore. He fucked and fucked and fucked, that lovely spot being tapped and played with till it went off. Shortly after, you came all over his cock, juices spilling out and dripping onto the bed. He fucked your cunt still, helping you ride out your orgasm as he neared his. Your eyes rolled back, the feeling of being emptied and filled all over again overstimulating you immensely, yet satisfying your desire so beautifully.

He followed shortly after, shooting his load inside you accompanied by the release of your hair, relief washing over the both of you. Letting out a heavy, slutty breath into your ear, he slowed down significantly, gently fucking the mixture of cum inside of you. Your head was soon back on the bed, red from shame and regret at what you said before. However the man simply pulled out and collapsed beside you, both of you simply laying on your stomachs, backs rising and falling with the aftermaths of an intense session. He raised his hand to your head, caressing your scalp in a comforting manner, as to apologize for the pulling and yanking.

He sighed, a worrisome look on his pretty fuck-boy face. “Break up with her?” He whispered.. sounding sad… Sad? 

This asshole, what did he have to be sad about? You were the one crying yourself to sleep every night and eating alone more often than not. And imagine how his girlfriend would feel if she knew? This entitled, pretty asshole.

Your eyebrows furrowed angrily, turning your head to face the white-haired man. “Yes. She doesn't deserve to be cheated on for one, now you're just leading her on. Are you that dense or what?”

His head pulled back slightly in a contorted facial expression, seemingly offended by your comment. But he knew you were right, his eyes drifting away in thought. “You're right… Just.. let's sleep on it.” He sighed, his eyes fluttering shut.

Yeah, he sure did have a habit of putting this off. He'd always find an excuse not to think about it or talk about it.

You huffed, pulling away from his touch and rolling out of the trashy motel mattress. “No, that's your decision.” 

He pissed you off, his eyes fluttering open again and stupidly following you with the dumb puppy face. You ignored him though, limping your way to the bathroom with a change of clothes. 

Took a piss, showered, and changed within the next 20 minutes, you stepped out fully clean and refreshed. You dried up your hair a few feet away from the bed, Gojo watching your every move. Your face was scrunched up and angry, hating the fact that he was looking at you so desperately right now. Why'd you even let him fuck you? 

“I'm going home,” You grabbed your bag and phone, heading for the door.

Without even realizing, Gojo was rushing out of bed, quickly stumbling toward you, “Fuck do you mean? I'm not driving you back over right now..” He leaned against the door frame butt naked, dick hanging loose and head tilted sideways.

You pushed his chest lightly, “Put some clothes on, get some sleep. I'll take a bus or something.” Again, you turn away from him, heading for the door knob.

Gojo's hand grabbed your arm, tugging you softly. “Why are you mad… baby… you know how this goes..” He practically pleaded, a tired and worn out expression on his stupid face.

“Cut it out, please I'm done Satoru I'm tired of feeling like shit every day.” You threw your head back, sadness and anger finally broke through. 

“I'll cut her off, okay?” He spoke quickly and firmly, almost as if just to shut you up. After that, it was all a blur.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

That day though, you fell for the facade, running right back into his arms, climbing right back into that bed, and continuing to be just the other woman.

Why you still do it? For the thrill? For the love? You sat for hours thinking about it, writing about it, crying about it. You almost told his girlfriend a couple of times. You have countless pages saved in your notes explaining everything to her, yes everything. But your heart and soul know you won't ever tell her, better yet jeopardize the “relationship” you have right now. 

“Hey love…” He would greet you, caressing your cheek and brushing through your hair with his pale slender fingers. “You're so beautiful baby… I don't deserve you.” He smiled warmly at you, love genuinely radiating from his body.

Was any of that real? He was right though. A cheater doesn't deserve you. But you weren't any fucking better that's for sure. You're not sure when this will end, but damn you hope it ends with you finally being content and happy. No longer, the other woman.

[thornedrose44]

Lena Luthor: Random Crap Generator

Read on AO3

She liked to think it was a gift from her mother - her final wish or a blessing.

Or maybe even a bizarre recompense from a universe that believed the smallest smidge of magic made up for depriving a girl of her mother. (It was the equivalent of the sun going out and being given a match with the propensity to sputter and die or generate a light unable to cast further than three feet ahead.)

It was still magic - something tangible, individual and beyond understanding - and even in her childish heart, that was so overwhelmed with grief and loneliness, it provided a spark of giddiness and excitement. It made her feel special. 

What would it be today?

A lily so she had something to lay on her mother’s coffin.

An umbrella to shield her when she was caught in an unforecasted shower, sat on the curb by the police station waiting for the strange man in fancy clothes to pick her up and take her to her new home.

A chess piece - white knight - to replace the one that Lex had lost when they had moved the board from the living room to the garden for the day, it meant they could play and pretend to ignore the raised voices of Lionel and Lillian.

A pencil to replace the one that snapped in her first lesson on her first day at school.

It was impressive until Lena grew used to it. Learned that there were limitations. 

It was never anything substantive or of high value, it had to fit in her hand, had to be small and low value as if whatever this ability was could only pull items from a ninety-nine cent store. She got one item a day. It would be there in her hand when she woke up and then it would vanish when she fell asleep.

(She tested it out, working out what it was linked to - a time or the actual act of sleeping. She stayed up all night, holding tight to the sleep mask she’d had awoken that morning with to see when it would disappear. It remained resolute and real. It wasn’t until she fell asleep in the late morning, eye mask pulled on to block out the bright sunlight that it vanished at some point during her exhaustion-induced nap.)

It was during her teen years - particularly the angsty goth phase she leaned into - that she dubbed her power ‘The Random Crap Generator’ (unsurprisingly the name stuck).

The item didn’t tell her the future but gave some decent hints which, as Lena grew older, was more appreciated than the actual cheap item itself. 

The earplugs she woke up to in her hand on her first day at college let her know that the girl next door did not understand that the walls were thin, her moans were loud and pretending that her boyfriend was an effective lover did not actually make it so.

The roll of quarters pre-warned of the washing machine in the shared college house was broken before Jack and Sam yelled for her help in fixing it. 

(The condom was particularly embarrassing and made her acutely aware of the most likely outcome of the fancy date that Jack had planned for that evening).

The cuddly brown bear told Lena that Sam’s water would break two weeks earlier than expected.

Most of the time it was harmless or a helpful nudge.

Other times, though, it was a gut punch or an omen that left her on tenterhooks for the whole day.

Lena remembered waking to find bandages in her hand and small alcohol wipes. She’d had injuries before - fencing could get brutal and every engineer has their personal soldering story that keeps them vigilant for all future interactions. But this was different. It was different because she was set to wear a wire that day. It was different because she now knew what her brother was capable of. She couldn’t take the bandages with her, it would have undermined her role - the doting sister who could never imagine her brother causing her harm. She tucked them into her nightstand and later when she made her way home after hours at the police station - the officers already starting to sneer at her despite her crucial help - she’d come home and retrieved the morning supplied medical items and tended to the damage on her wrists from Lex’s too tight handcuffs.

Then there was the day she woke to something small and cold in her hand. She’d rolled it on her fingertips under the quilt, hoping that when she finally pulled it free and studied it that it wouldn’t be what she suspected it was. She kept the bullet with her, tucked into a hidden pocket of her suit. A single bullet without a gun doesn’t attract much attention. When she picked up the gun and found the chamber empty, she didn’t even bother to check that the bullet was the right type. She knew it would be. One shot was all she needed, and then Lex was bleeding out in front of her.

The days following that she awoke to a box of tissues and she worked away her way through them diligently - until she had no tears left to shed and her heart couldn’t break any further.

She ignored the small compact mirror that was in the palm of her hand every morning as she sought revenge and retribution. She threw it in the trash, out a window, ran over it with her car and even destroyed it with a controlled explosive. Regardless, the exact same mirror (cheesy pink casing and slightly chipped in the corner) would appear and Lena belligerently refused to study herself in it - aware of the unfamiliar darkness she would see brewing in her eyes.

(The day after she had reached out to Kara to repair their damaged relationship and return to the light, she awoke to a simple gold star sticker stuck to the palm of her hand - the exact gold star stickers her Mom had given for completing little chores and tasks. She had cried into the pillows until they were damp and her cheeks red and flushed.)

A red, blue and yellow friendship bracelet - fraying on the ends but clearly made with love and care - was clasped tight in a fist when she awoke every morning during Kara’s absence as if to serve as tether or connection until her return.

Xxx

Despite her Random Crap Generator (trademark pending), Lena had still struggled to believe in magic. 

(Mostly because if magic was real, what was the point of her entire career and scientific pursuits? If magic was real and could do so many amazing things, why did her mother walk into the sea? Why if there was so much wonder and things beyond what they could merely see, why wasn’t it enough for her mother? Why? Why? Why?)

She didn’t understand her power but she believed that there was an explanation that was simply yet to reveal itself - her main working theory was time travel. A version of herself in the future - who for some reason only had a bucket of bargain items on hand indicating a rather dramatic change in her financial circumstances - sent back ‘useful’ items for each day of her life in the hope to aid her without causing some dramatic paradox.

“I’m sorry, I’m going to need you to say that all again…” Kara requested, crease between her brows so deep it almost looked endless.

“Which part exactly?” Lena frowned as they sat down for breakfast in Kara’s apartment.

“The part where you’ve been magical since a little girl and yet belligerently refused to believe in magic? Or the part where you're only telling me this now?” Kara spluttered, resisting even starting the stack of pancakes in front of her to instead question Lena, which told her this was a ‘serious’ matter.

“I just…” Lena waved a hand and shrugged, “didn’t think it was worth mentioning.”

“Wha- I- you- Argh!” Kara aggressively stabbed her pancakes and shoved a chunk into her mouth chewing angrily.

Lena sighed, “Look it’s not like it’s…” She hesitated wondering if they were at a stage in their renewed friendship (post-reveal, post-revenge, post-apology, post-Lex, post-sharing-your-super-secret-with-the-whole-world) to nod back to it in a gentle way. “Cool superpowers. It’s a hairband when my one snapped the day before. It’s a chocolate bar when I have low blood sugar. It’s… it’s crap.”

Kara gasped in outrage at the descriptor. “It’s not crap!”

“Kara… Come on.” Lena rolled her eyes.

“My best friend’s magical abilities are not crap.” Kara declared, chin lifted with determination, reaching out with her free hand to squeeze Lena’s forearm - hand remaining there even once the comforting touch had been provided.

(They were doing that more often, reaching out and maintaining contact. It was simple and affectionate, and from afar it would be considered merely friendly but up close? Up close you could see how Lena’s cheeks became rose-tinted, how Kara’s breath caught and how they both snuck glances at one another, their smiles small yet greedy.)

“Regardless,” Lena continued clearing her throat, and trying to ignore the swoop in her stomach, as her voice softened to something apologetic and deeply sincere. “I’m sorry I didn’t tell you earlier.”

She hadn’t even really told Kara either, her ability outed itself. She and Kara had had their twice weekly sleepover (Lena didn’t study the ramifications of them having their own drawer and closet space at each other’s places), and upon waking to Kara’s arm slung over her waist and face pressed to her back, Lena found a full pack of pancake mix in her hand which Kara had immediately queried. 

It sort of all came tumbling out from there.

“I appreciate that.” Kara acknowledged, lips shiny with syrup as she smiled at Lena. 

“Thank you.” Lena nodded.

“But seriously how could you not believe in magic with all that going on?”

Xxx

They started sleeping over at each other’s places more and more. Kara was curious about Lena’s power and had the child-like wonder with each new day’s offering that Lena had lost over the years. Even if Lena couldn’t help but indulge in Kara’s joy, there were other benefits to incentivise her.

Kara would hold her close in bed, pulling her back against her chest, nose sneaking through the locks of her hair to trace the nape of her neck. Lena would press yesterday’s item into Kara’s hand, who always held onto it with the vain hope that if she held it just right it wouldn’t vanish, whilst Lena would keep her right hand held out across the mattress so upon waking whatever had appeared would be instantly visible.

The first morning there was a bright red box with a handle; Lena had handed it over to Kara immediately who giddily turned the handle producing the shrill childish music before popping loudly to reveal a jack-in-the-box. 

Lena had never loved her ability more than she did in that moment.

xxx

“Ugh…” Alex groaned, sniffling loudly as she collapsed onto the stool next to Lena. 

“Everything okay?” Lena queried, flinching away when Alex sneezed violently into the crook of her arm.

“Sorry,” Alex mumbled, voice nasally, “Esme picked up a cold from school and it's taken me and Kelly out. I’m at least somewhat mobile so I took Tower duty.”

“Sounds like this is for you, then.” Lena said, without really thinking about it, handing over the cold and flu medicine she’d been granted that morning.

“Huh?” Alex frowned, accepting the medicine, “Thanks… did you just have this on you?”

Lena hesitated for a second, “You could say that.”

Alex’s gaze narrowed, “Did Kelly message you to pick this up for me?”

“No, I just had it to hand.” 

Alex blinked, “Wait is this… like yours?”

“Mine?” Lena repeated.

“You know…” Alex held out her hand and opened and closed it repeatedly. “Creation magic.”

“Temporary Random Crap Generator.” Lena corrected and confirmed.

“So, if I take this medicine and you go to sleep, would the drug just disappear from my bloodstream?” Alex questioned.

“Not sure, I think it would if I was given a different item upon waking but if I generated the same item, I don’t think so. That’s what happens when I’m ill, I keep getting the medicine until I’m better.” Lena explained.

“Hmph…” Alex replied, eyes watery and cheeks flushed enough to stop her from interrogating further, she shrugged and took her medicine as Lena returned to her work. “Hey… what… what is this branding?”

“Hmm?”

“This look like it's from the nineties?” Alex said, looking utterly perplexed, “Is it like retro or something?”

Lena glanced at the bright colours and blocky design that marked it as older than the sleeker and simpler designs of today. “Uhh… yeah, it must be.”

She’d never really considered the design, whenever she got sick she didn’t go to the pharmacy for over the counter medication, she always awoke with the simple medication she required - anything requiring a prescription was beyond her crap generator abilities. It had never really clicked that the medicine she received was exactly the brands her mother used to stock their medicine cabinet with. 

“Hey, I’m tired and for once there is no crime…” Alex began, glancing furtively around - it was just them and Brainy at the tower since Kara was training Nia to help her take point on missions, meaning Kara could step away from the cape for longer periods as required, and J’onn was having a much earned day off.

Lena raised an eyebrow waiting for the follow-up.

“Want to design some experiments for your RCG?” Alex suggested, a sparkle appearing in her eyes - scientific curiosity that wasn’t indulged as often anymore.

“RCG?” Lena questioned as Brainy popped his head into the room, eyes wide and hopeful.

“Did someone say design an experiment?”

“For Lena’s Random Crap Generator powers - RCG.” Alex explained.

Lena rolled her eyes but she couldn’t help but smile, “Sure, why not?”

“YES!” Brainy and Alex both yelled in excitement.

Xxx

They were all from home. 

As in her mother’s home. Or more generally from her childhood.

The tissues, the medicine, the sweet treats, the gold stars, even the bullet. (Her mother had kept a gun in the back of her closet, she didn’t think Lena knew but Lena had seen her cleaning it when she couldn’t sleep one night). All of it. 

It explained the low cost nature of it all, they’d lived very simply and shopped at the local stores which were always plentiful with their random items and knick-knacks. 

They’d spent the day tracing the items, looking up each one to confirm the hypothesis. Kara had come in and stuck close to Lena’s side, hand on the small of her back throughout it all. It wasn’t until they returned home (together as always) that Lena broke. 

“Hey, it’s okay.” Kara soothed, effortlessly picking her up and taking her straight to bed to lie down.

“I’m sorry, I don't know why I’m crying.” Lena sobbed, curling into Kara’s chest.

Kara kissed her forehead, “You don’t need to know why. You can just cry.”

Lena took the advice to heart and sobbed until her chest ached and her face felt puffy. She fell asleep cradled in Kara’s arms and when she awoke it was to the teddy she’d had when she was a child held close to her chest. 

“You knew I wasn’t okay before I did.” Lena breathed into the still morning air. She knew Kara was already awake - her breathing was an edge to light and her thumb was stroking back and forth on Lena’s stomach to soothe her. Lena turned around to face Kara, the teddy bear held tight in her arms as she met gentle blue eyes.

“Yes.” Kara confirmed, gaze flickering over Lena’s features.

“How?”

“I promised myself I wouldn’t miss it the next time.” Kara replied, volume low as if to create a private bubble that was just their own.

“Miss what?” Lena asked, raising an eyebrow.

“Your sadness. Your hurt.” Kara whispered, “I don’t want you to ever face those things alone again.”

Lena inhaled a shaky breath, hand shyly reaching out to cup Kara’s face, “Kara…”

Kara turned her head and pressed a kiss to the palm of Lena’s hand, her eyes slipping closed as if to fully concentrate on absorbing the contact. 

“I didn’t have anything from Krypton for so long.” Kara revealed slowly, head turning back to look at Lena who took the opportunity to trace Kara’s features tenderly with her fingertips - keeping them linked and bound. “My Mother’s necklace was pretty much all I had. Kal-El kept the fortress to himself for a long time as he wanted me to assimilate and the DEO took my pod.

“I had nothing left but memories and they were shaky, and I would weep for every detail lost over time. A rhyme my friends would sing. The ingredient quantities for my Father’s favourite treat. The exact shade of my Mother’s favourite dress. I know material objects aren’t as important as the memories but they can provide comfort. Give solidity to the events. Evidence that they really happened and don’t just live in your head but were real and tangible too.”

“How could they have taken so much from you?” Lena murmured desperately - she was referring to the DEO, to Kal, to the universe. Why did it take, take, take and leave so little in return? Especially from someone like Kara who would give and give and give without thought for herself.

“They took from you too, Lena.” Kara soothed, reaching out to run a hand over the fuzzy fur of Lena’s bear (a bear that Lillian had snatched away from her a week after arriving at the mansion). “When I found my pod in the DEO…” Kara glanced away, jaw working, “I curled up inside it and cried myself to sleep. I never told anyone.”

Lena shuffled closer, noses near touching and air shared. “I didn’t recognise them, I didn’t… make the connection.”

“It was all you knew as a kid, it was normal, it’s only as time has gone by and the items have remained the same that… you could see it.” Kara explained patiently.

“I feel like I forgot her.” Lena admitted, choking back a sob.

“You didn’t.” Kara said.

Lena sniffled, “Do you think…”

“Do I think?” Kara encouraged when Lena broke off.

“Do you think it's my magic or my mother’s?” Lena asked, wanting Kara to make her believe in the impossible once more. To believe that love was more potent than anything in the universe.

“Does it matter?” Kara replied, “Your mother gave you a safe and happy childhood with the smallest of things, and whether she cast the spell or you did… she was the one that showed you how the tiniest of items can provide the greatest of joy. She did that and you’ve carried it on.”

xxx

“Lena, are you alright?” J’onn inquired kindly, slowly approaching her worktop. 

Lena looked up, shoulders slumped and a slight shake to her hands that prevented her from assisting with the sensitive work that she had been working on with Brainy to handle their villain of the week - an alien that secreted a burning chemical preventing Kara from getting close without receiving burns that took her an entire day to heal. Lena had been relegated to a computer supporting Alex in tracking the aliens movements.

“I…” Lena began, hands frozen over the keyboard before faltering.

“You need not tell me what is bothering you, I merely wish to make you aware that I am here if you require anything.” J’onn murmured. “Nia is looking out for Kara as well.”

“Is she okay?” Lena queried panickedly, remembering how tightly Kara had hugged her that morning and how she promised everything would work out.

“Of course.” J’onn reassured, “She was noted to be more withdrawn than usual and Nia is keeping watch on her demeanour.”

“Oh… good.” Lena sighed.

J’onn waited a beat, clearly allowing Lena to decide if his presence was still wanted.

“It was a box of tissues.” Lena confessed. 

“Your gift?” J’onn checked, moving to take the seat next to Lena - correctly identifying the revelation as an invitation.

Lena nodded.

“Does it always herald something bad?” 

Lena bit her lip and nodded once more.

“I see.” J’onn hummed. 

“What if something happens to Kara?” Lena asked, feeling small and so childish for even voicing the question.

But J’onn didn’t tsk or even reject the possibility, he merely considered this for a long moment.

“Then we handle it. Together.” J’onn said. It was the simplicity and definitiveness of it that helped, Alex had tried too hard to say everything would be okay, but J’onn accepted the possible future and didn’t turn away from it.

“I feel like I’m waiting for the end of the world.”

“Would you like to hold my hand?” J’onn offered, hand moving to rest on the worktop between them. “Until Kara comes back?”

Lena swallowed thickly before reaching out and clinging tightly to J’onn’s hand.

Later, when Brainy had stabilised the neutralising agent and the alien was safely locked away, not a single scratch on Kara in the fight, Lena was nervously waiting on the balcony for her return - J’onn squeezing her hand once more before leaving her to await Kara’s return.

There was a flash - a flicker in her vision - her hair sent wildly off in every direction and loose bits of clothing (her untucked blouse) billowing in the rush of wind.

“Are you okay? Has anything happened?” Kara questioned, warm hands cradling Lena’s face, blue eyes wide and frantic. 

“I-”

“I kept safe, I promise.” Kara rushed on, “I wasn’t stupid, I wouldn’t risk- I wouldn’t hurt you like that.”

“I know, Kara, I know.” Lena replied, hands reaching for Kara’s hips - needing to feel that she was really there with her own hands. 

“I won’t let anything terrible happen, okay?” Kara promised desperately.

“It’s okay, it’s okay if it does.” Lena said; Kara blinked jolting in place slightly. Lena’s hands slipped round Kara’s hips to the small of her back, pulling them closer together until there was no space between them. “Because we’ll face it together. El mayarah.”

“El mayarah.” Kara repeated, gaze dropped to Lena’s lips, studying how she said the words of her family intently. “I’m going to kiss you now.” 

Lena inhaled and then Kara’s lips were pressed to her own, warm and welcome in the cold night air. Kara’s hands moved from Lena’s face, one twisting through her hair guiding her this way and that, and the other to her waist pushing her against the nearest wall. Locking them in.

Kara kissed her with a level of confidence and certainty that revealed how deeply she’d thought about this, had choreographed it for nearly every scenario, adapting it to suit every little bit of knowledge Lena had given her about how she liked to be touched and treated. Her grip was strong but her lips gentle, and Lena couldn’t help but melt.

Every wall and emotional barrier swept away like melted ice with a single sweep of Kara’s tongue.

“Kara,” Lena choked out, needing air.

Kara pulled back immediately, her own lips red and wet, her golden curls tangled and practically debauched. “Lena.. you’re…”

Lena reached up to her cheeks and felt the tracks of the silent, jubilant tears. “Oh.”

“Happy tears?” Kara grinned.

“The happiest.” Lena beamed, arms wrapping around Kara’s neck to pull her back in.

xxx

“Darling, is everything okay?” 

“Swell!” Kara replied overly chirpy, her smile that edge too stiff to be one hundred percent true. 

“Swell?” Lena giggled, grabbing Kara’s hand on the table and squeezing comfortingly.

“I mean… Great! Good! Fantastic!” Kara corrected enthusiastically. “Does the food taste good?”

“Excellent.” Lena complimented, savouring the taste of the meal Kara had been working on and stressing over all afternoon for their one year anniversary. 

“Yeah?” Kara breathed out, the relief obvious in how her shoulders dropped a couple of inches from around her ears.

“Yes.” Lena confirmed leaning over the corner of the table to kiss her girlfriend sweetly. “Thank you so much for cooking. I love how much effort you put into this.” She paused before gathering her courage to add, “It makes me feel special.”

“You are special.” Kara affirmed immediately before sucking in a deep breath - chest expanding. “I was going to wait until dessert but I don’t think I can.”

Lena tilted her head to the side curiously, only to let out a gasp of delight as Kara slipped off her chair and kneeled next to Lena’s, holding Lena’s hand between both of her own.

“Lena,” Kara began, voice warming as she went on, “you are my best friend but you are also so much more than that. You help me to hope and believe when the days are darkest. You inspire me to never give up. You bring me laughter and happiness in thousands of ways I never thought possible for myself. You make everyday feel like a gift with endless possibilities. Best Friend and Girlfriend feel inadequate terms for how much of myself belongs to you, how much of myself wants to be yours. So, Lena Kieran Luthor, will you do me the greatest honour of my entire existence? Will you marry me?”

Lena was already nodding at the start of the speech and the second the question was asked, Lena pushed herself off her chair and into Kara’s arms.

“Yes, yes, yes!” 

Kara got to her feet, lifting Lena up in the process and twirling them round and round their shared home. She gently placed Lena back onto her own feet and reached into the pocket of the blazer she was wearing.

“Oh no…” Kara muttered, expression turning horror struck, “Oh Rao, no.”

“Kara? What is it? What’s wrong?”

“I can’t find the ring.” Kara said, shucking off her jacket and turning it upside down as if it was merely tucked away somewhere inside it. “I was so sure it was in my pocket, it must be somewhere.” She dropped the item to the ground, head rotating left and right, x-ray vision inevitably sweeping the area in order to find it, “I’ll be right back, I-”

“Kara, it’s okay.” Lena interjected, laying a hand on her arm, keeping her (hopefully) fiancee in place with the lightest of touches.

Kara wrung her hands, looking utterly disheartened, “No, you should have a ring-”

“I do have one.” Lena replied, pulling a large mood ring off the index finger of her right hand.  “I think this is for you. It appeared this morning.”

Kara took it, brow furrowing in amazement, “You had this since this morning?”

“Mmhmm…” Lena hummed, holding out her left hand.

Kara carefully cradled her proffered hand and smoothly slipped the mood ring onto her ring finger. “Have I ever told you how useful your power is?”

Lena beamed, “Everyday.”

[moonlitmorganite]

"Nothing" - Bruno major

A song about spending simple, unadorned moments with a loved one. The song emphasizes that the value of these moments doesn't come from the activities themselves, but from the person they're shared with.

It suggests that the act of doing 'nothing' is deeply fulfilling when it's with someone special.

Katsuki hated this. He hated how you make his heart churn. He hated how you'd make his tummy roll and do twists and turns. He hated how you made his say sappy shit, the cheesy lovey dovey crap he avoided.

But he couldn't help it. He couldn't help but fall into the pit you unknowingly dug for him. He couldn't help but let his leg slip into the void not-so dark you created for him.

But a part of him enjoyed it.

Enjoyed how you'd engulf him in your loving arms after a long day. And how you'd whisper sweet nothings into his ear. How you'd smile at him while you greet him with your usual 'good morning's.

Or how you'd split your snack for him, even if he said he doesn't want his teeth rotten like yours.

"But Katsu, my teeth aren't rotten!" You'll whine and puch it towards him again.

And he'll roll his eyes, click his tongue and scrunch his nose but still accept the sugary treat. How could he say no to you? How could he say no to the endearing smile that came along with the cookie?

And the worst part was that he couldn't put his finger on it. You had him absolutely smitten in every way. But why? Is it the way you rant his ear off? Is it the way you ask him to solve that one math problem you could solve yourself? Maybe the way you came to him the second you fell down the stairs? Or maybe how you'd snuggle into his chest on the class movie nights.

Apart from all that, there wasn't anything he could've wanted more. The way you'd dance on tabletops, wearing high heels. And how you'd watch your favourite angsty movie for the fifth time, he'll say it's stupid — just before you catch him sobbing into the pink cushion you got for his room. Oh, or maybe it was how you'd both song stupid songs together, he swears he could feel his heart stop the moment you harmonise with him. How you'd song that one Olivia song – telling him you love him in between the chorus and the verse. And he knows it's only you who'd ever make him feel this way.

Because the day he met you, all the love songs were about the both of you. The day you locked glances was the day all the feelings shown in stupid romance movies were something he got to experience for himself.

And he wouldn't trade it for the world.

Credits to @cafekitsune for the pretty divider <3 (tysm)

This is my first ever write-up, so pardon me if it's bad😭. I look forward to writing more and improving in the future, thanks for reading<3

Inspired by the song "nothing" by Bruno Major!! (Also has lil bits of "deja vu" by Olivia Rodrigo)

Do not copy/repost. Reblogs are appreciated!!

[adrift-in-thyme]

Do you have any hylink headcanons :3

Hehe why yes I do ;)

- Their relationship verges on forbidden. Mortals and gods aren’t technically supposed to fall in love. So they’re forced to keep it a secret. They do…okay at it. Everyone can tell something is going on by the lovey dovey eyes and the way they talk to each other. (People guessing what’s going on eventually leads to Link’s framing and subsequent imprisonment — at least in part. They get jealous of him being the goddess’ favorite.)

- They’re both love adventure so whenever they sneak off to be together you can find them somewhere outside. From exploring Faron Woods to hiking up Death Mountain and getting lost in Lanayru Mines, they do it all. But their favorite thing is to get on Crimson and fly together

- They’re both naturally drawn to the sky. Link told Hylia once that he dreamt of being able to live there. She promised him that one day they would

- Link composed the Ballad of the Goddess for Hylia as a way to show her how much he loved her. And she composed the Song of the Hero for him.

- Before his imprisonment, they were actually skirting the topic of marriage. Neither really knew how to make it work but they were willing to try

- They shared their first kiss in a tree in the Faron Woods. A Kikwi spying nearby got embarrassed and squealed so loud it scared the crap out of them. They fell out of the tree

- And on a more angsty note…although Hylia withdrew during Link’s imprisonment (because she knew she couldn’t save him and it hurt too much to watch him going through so much) she was always looking out for him. She would lessen his pain whenever she could and frequently watched over him while he slept.

- To end with some fluff…Hylia has a mischievous, playful streak and enjoys hiding things for Link to find. It’s their own, personal little game. She hides things, he finds them all and teases her about concealing them in places like pots and grass.

[lemoncrushh]

Sometimes It Be That Way

Summary: Soon after a breakup, Lilliana met Harry...but their relationship may have been doomed from the start.

Warnings: Very angsty!

Word Count: 2281

A/N: Real Harry and OC fic written in 2017. I had been working on a long fic during this time, and I think I was just in the mood for some angst. Inspired by the Jewel song of the same name.

We had a rocky relationship. I reckon it was inevitable since we'd had a rocky start.

Seven months earlier...

I wrapped my coat tightly around me as I struggled to open my umbrella. I cursed at the rain, the cold, the hotel awning that barely kept me dry and my bloody useless and poor excuse for an umbrella.

"Fucking hell!" I screamed, giving up and throwing it on the wet pavement. "I hate you!"

"Um...I dunno if that was called for."

Twirling around to find where the voice had come from, I came face to face with someone I not only did not expect to see, but probably the last person I wanted to see...other than maybe him. I'd known he was in London. I'd already seen his picture plastered on massive signs around the city as well as in the newspaper and on the telly. And had it been any other moment in time, I might've felt my heart flutter and my breath catch in my throat. But he'd caught me on the worst day. Scowling, I turned back around shoving my hands in the pockets of my coat.

"It was absolutely called for," I mumbled.

"Oh, but you can't say things like that to inanimate objects." I heard him say as he walked around me and bent down to retrieve my discarded umbrella.

"What?" I rolled my eyes.

Standing up straight, he looked at me and smirked. "They can't fight back."

I felt a breath sputter from my lips as I shook my head. Was this guy for real? Oh, that's right. He was Harry Fucking Styles. Mr. Perfect. He wasn't real. He was merely a figment of everyone's imagination, conjured up by gold dust and television producers. Holding out his hand, my umbrella still halfway open inside it, he raised his brows.

"Now what on earth did this thing ever do to you?"

Grabbing it from him hastily, I pressed the button again to try to eject it.

"It doesn't fucking work!" I spat. "Bloody piece of shit!"

"Lemme see. Here, take mine."

Harry held out his solid black umbrella, no doubt some designer one like Gucci or some crap. I took it, determined to watch him make a fool of himself as he fumbled with my cheap red polka dot one. But much to my surprise (and dismay), after just a couple presses of the button and movements of the runner across the tube, he got it open.

"There," he grinned with pride.

"Hmm," I sounded, switching umbrellas with him. "Thanks."

"You're welcome." Harry lifted his eyes to the sky, then back at me. "Doesn't look like you'll be needing it now, though."

"Ugh," I groaned, noticing the rain had stopped. I snapped the umbrella closed and tossed it into my bag. "Fucking story of my life."

Instantaneously, I covered my mouth just as Harry threw his head back laughing.

"Oh my God, I did not just say that," I mumbled through my hand.

Harry continued to giggle with glee, no doubt mocking me and my discomfort. I muttered a few curse words under my breath as I turned around and walked down the pavement, trying to find a taxicab.

"Wait!"

I could hear his expensive boots clicking behind me before he caught up to me. Ignoring him, I opened the cab door hurriedly and slipped into the back seat.

"Wait!" he called again, reaching the open door. "Where are you going?"

"Uh...away."

I caught the expression on his face, a flitting moment of hesitation as he eyed his surroundings before he slid into the back seat next to me.

"What are you doing?" I asked as he pulled the door shut.

Instead of answering my question, he leaned forward and told the taxi driver an address. It was a familiar location to me, a restaurant I used to frequent.

"Hello," he smiled at me as he sat back in the seat, his dimple making me want to punch him.

"What the hell?" I narrowed my eyes.

"Are you always this crude and impolite, or is it only to polka dot umbrellas and men who try to help you?"

Pursing my lips, I knew there was no comeback I could give. He'd called me out on my own shit.

"Harry Styles," he held out his hand.

"I know," I nodded as I shook it. "Lilliana Richard."

"I know," he echoed.

I made a face. Of course he knew who I was. I wasn't famous, but only by association. My boyfr- er - ex-boyfriend was Jackson Humes, brother of Lolly Humes, a model-turned-actress. Occasionally my name and/or photo would pop up in articles about her if I was out with Jackson at one of her celebrity functions.

"I suggest we start over, Lilliana," declared Harry.

That's what I'm trying to do, I thought. But of course, he meant him and me.

"Fair enough," I sighed. "How do you reckon we do that?"

"Let's start with lunch, yeah?"

I swallowed hard, nodding. "Okay."

"Good," he smiled, his dimple this time making me smile in return.

It was then that I actually got a good look at him. He wore a long black coat, matching jeans and old scuffed brown boots. His head adorned a green beanie, and it looked like he was growing his hair out again, the curls longer than I remembered seeing before. To put it mildly, he looked beautifully cozy, and he smelled heavenly.

We reached the restaurant after only a few minutes of small talk. Harry paid the cabbie just as discreetly as he got us a table in a private corner. After we ordered, he folded his arms on the table and leant forward.

"So...Humes?"

"Sorry?" I asked, almost spitting out my water.

"You're still dating him? Or no?"

I bit my lip, folding my cloth napkin in my lap. "No."

"Oh. I'm sorry. I didn't know."

"How could you?" I said a little too harshly. "We just broke up."

"Ugh," he lowered his head. "That's...just?"

"Four days ago."

"Oh. Sorry."

I sighed and gazed around the room. "It's okay. I'm fine."

I felt the tears welling in my eyes as soon as I uttered the lie. I shook my head before dropping it into my hands.

"No, I'm not."

"Hey..." Harry whispered, reaching his hand across the table as my body shook with sobs. "Lilliana. Do...do you wanna talk about it? Or...we can go if you need to."

Regaining my composure, I wiped my eyes, sure my mascara had run down my face already.

"I hate him," I groaned through my teeth. "I hope he goes to hell."

"Ouch. What happened? If...if I can ask."

"I walked in on him shagging another woman, that's what happened," I said bluntly.

"Oh, fuck."

"Yeah. I'd come to London to surprise him. But I'm the one who got surprised. Yay me."

The waiter came with our food then, but both of us sat in silence as we stared at our plates. It was me who actually spoke next.

"I spent four days in that hotel room crying. This morning was the first time I was able to step foot outside."

Harry looked at me for a while, seeming to study me. I noticed how his eyes appeared kind and concerned, but mostly how green they were.

"No wonder," he shook his head.

"No wonder what?"

"Your attitude when we met. The 'I hate you' was not for the umbrella. It was for him."

I blinked in agreement. Harry's shoulders fell as he looked at his untouched food. Then placing his napkin on the table, he waved at the waiter who walked over.

"Sorry, mate, but can we get these to go?"

"Certainly."

Harry had ended up taking me to his place that day. It wasn't like he was trying to put the moves on me, or anything romantic really. I reckon he was just allowing me some privacy to cry and let it all out. I cried on his sofa and his shoulder well into the evening. We ate our food from the restaurant, and it was probably the best meal I'd ever eaten in my life.

I saw him again a month later when he was in Manchester where I lived, and he rang me, suggesting we get together for a drink. My initial reaction was no. I still wasn't completely over Jackson. But I was getting there, and Harry had been so kind.

Something happened that night. Unexpectedly, yet with an insatiable heart, I let myself fall in love again.

Even after our relationship became public, some of my friends worried that I'd rushed into it too quickly, and that Harry was just a rebound romance. I assured them that wasn't the case, that I was in love. But one thing was certain. I had a jealous bone which resulted in me expecting the worst.

Harry and I quarreled a lot because of it. And although I wanted so badly to stand my ground, deep down I knew that one day it would most likely be our ultimate demise.

One night we were at a party in London, given by his friend Nick Grimshaw whom I adored immensely. I was rounding the bar when someone poked me and called me a name that not only wasn't mine, it was Harry's former girlfriend's. I lost it. They laughed it off, saying "whoops", but I wanted to spit in their face.

Harry found me in the toilet ten minutes later as he knocked on the door to get me to come out.

"Lilliana!" he called. "Come out, love! Jesse was just kidding. He said it was a joke."

"Some joke!" I cried.

"Babe. He thought it would be funny."

"Do you hear me laughing?"

"Lil. Come out, please. Or I'm coming in."

Sniffling, I opened the door slowly. "I wanna go home," I declared.

Harry sighed. "Fine."

When we arrived at his house, we both walked upstairs to the bedroom without so much as a word. I stood in the middle of the room, staring out the large window. I could feel myself start to shake with the threat of more tears, but none came.

"Lilli..." Harry whispered behind me.

"I'm sorry I ruined the party," I mumbled.

I heard him sigh loudly, exasperated. I knew. I was getting to be too much for him to handle. I could already feel the goodbye coming. I braced myself for the end.

"Baby, you had to know Jesse was joking."

"It wasn't funny to me, Harry."

"I know. It's just...it's kind of an ongoing gag we have going because press loves to make up lies. And anytime I'm even seen with someone else, her name is brought up."

I spun around. "That's supposed to make me feel better?"

"Well yeah. 'Cause I'm with you now. Even Nick and Jesse said they like you and think you're more fun to be around that anyone I've ever dated. That should make you feel good, yeah?"

"I don't care what they said! It doesn't mean shit!"

"So, whining and sulking is what you choose instead?" he scoffed, shaking his head. "Lil..."

Harry stepped closer to me, taking my hands in his. "Lil...I love you. I really do. I tell you that all the time. I show you. Why isn't that enough?"

"I don't know," I cried, wiping a stray tear that had found its way to my cheek. "I guess...I guess I'm so afraid I'm gonna lose you."

"I'm not Jackson, Lilliana."

I shut my eyes tight, the sound of his name still cutting like a knife.

"I don't cheat," he added. "Never. I never have, and I never will. When I'm with you, I'm with you only. And you're the only one I wanna be with, Lil. Why don't you believe that?"

I took a shaky breath as he spoke his next words.

"I know you were hurt before, terribly. But it's been seven months now. You can't keep doing this."

Swallowing hard, I opened my eyes and nodded. Then I pressed my palms to my eyes, seeing a kaleidoscope of colours before I blinked and looked Harry in the eye.

"You're right. I swear, it won't happen again."

I turned for the closet and pulled out my suitcase, dropping it on the bed.

"What are you doing?" asked Harry incredulously.

"I'm going back home," I replied, shoving as many clothes inside as I could. Then I grabbed my phone and booked a taxi to pick me up.

"Lilli...what the hell? You can't..."

"I'm sorry, Harry. I'm so very sorry."

I zipped up my suitcase and carried it past him to the hallway.

"Baby, I didn't mean...this isn't what I want," he followed me down the stairs.

"Isn't it?" I stopped at the bottom, turning around.

"No!"

"Yes. You want someone who isn't going to be worrying every minute that she's gonna find you in bed with someone else. And you know what? You deserve that. I'm so sorry it's not me."

"Lilliana!"

I reached the door and opened it, standing in the doorway.

"Lil, please," I heard him beg.

I turned to see him with the most bewildered look on his face. It hurt me to hurt him.

"You're absolutely right, Harry. I can't keep doing this. Let's not make it any harder. We know what's best. I love you."

Blowing him a kiss, I shut the door behind me and walked outside the gate where the taxi met me.

I'd cried for four days over Jackson. Over Harry...I cried twice as long.

If you enjoyed, please like, comment, reblog or send me a msg!

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[amymbona]

if you need challengers ideas I have A LOT but rn my mind is clouded with some angsty Patrick stuff?

like it could be enemies to lover or fwb but then you get distant cuz you feel like you're falling in love and then patrick just do anything in his power to not lose you, truly anything as long as we get an ANGRY LOVE CONFESSION FROM HIM PLS <333

Honestlyyy this took me like a week to write this and I don't really like it. I feel like this topic could make up for a whole fanfic, not just a one shot. But I hope you'll like it :)

Warnings: angst, cursing,

Word count: 3,2 K

ˏˋ°•*⁀➷

You and Patrick were never that close. Mostly, you were Tashi's best friend and he was Art's best friend. There were some shots and awkward hugs shared when Patrick would come to visit his girlfriend and best friend at Stanford, being introduced to one another. At first, you weren't particularly fond of his habits - mainly smoking - and the foul language. But soon, you came to understand his special bond with Art (who you've managed to grow pretty close to as a result of him always hanging out with you and Tashi) and learned to respect him as your best friend's boyfriend. All in all, he turned out to be a pretty chill guy.

Eventually, you'd got to discover what kind of a person Patrick Zweig is. Overly confident and sure of his actions but rolling eyes with offense the second someone questions his choices. Loud, a bit more touchy for your liking and definitely a bit too comfortable sharing his sexual fantasies, but above all, a person driven entirely in the direction where his heart beats.

Initially, Patrick was the person to light the first cigarette between your lips and convince you to have pity for Art's puppy eyes and show him your tits. He had played the role of a perfect matchmaker, for god knows however reason. You two would exchange phone numbers and wish each other merry Christmas a happy birthday. He became your friend. 

After the complete disaster following Tashi's knee injury, the two of you ended up kicked away like two stray dogs, portrayed as the biggest pieces of shit. Patrick, you could understand. Because some time after that, you came to discover he only set you up with Art because he knew that his best friend was after his girlfriend. But in the end, the only person who had the right to yell at him for being such an asshole was you. Not Tashi, nor Art. And you, for reasons still unexplained (perhaps for not abandoning your friendship with Patrick) were tilted a traitor by your former best friend. This was the very end of your four way friendship. 

Fast forward, college was over. You went your way, pursuing your career. Patrick's number remained in your phone and, again, you'd only text each other for important anniversaries. However, all of that changed when he called you one random evening, evidently with too much alcohol running through his veins.

"I miss you." he hiccuped, the distinct chatter on his side of the line making it harder for you to hear what he was saying. 

"Patrick." you sighed, knowing damn well he's simply drunk and thought he must have dialed a wrong number. 

But the ever so persistent individual, he kept talking. "I think about you a lot, y'know, from time to time."

"You're drunk, Patrick." another sigh escaped your pursed lips, gaze focused on applying another coat of red polish to your toenail. "Where are you?" 

"Where the fuck would I be, Y/N? 'm getting wasted." Patrick's words were followed by a fit of laughter, not sure if his own or anyone else's. "Trynna forget about everyone. Not you, though." 

"Not me?"

"Just those two fuckers."

Of course. Ever since the painful split, Patrick had his own way of dealing with things, and that would mainly include getting totally wasted and babbling crap about being so deeply betrayed as if he was Jesus on the cross. 

That night, Patrick ended up at your place, upon you picking him up from the place which was, coincidentally, not too far from your current home. To put it simply, the two of you ended up in the world's messiest and smelliest make out session, Patrick's alcohol breath enveloping you from all directions. It was a vague attempt to get him out of the skinny pair of his jeans that he mistook for you wanting to suck his dick. Almost teary eyed, he begged you to let him fuck you, that it would make everything better for both of you. That it would have been a perfect revenge on Tashi and Art for breaking both of your hearts, even though they would had no way of discovering it. 

To this day, the revenge mindset continues corrupting both of your minds, or perhaps, it just gives you an excuse to keep fucking with each other. Patrick Zweig is a frequent visitor at your apartment, occupying your bed and drinking from your favourite tea cups while spitting some lines along "That nightie looks fucking sexy, but you should take it off," or "I could bend you over that counter." 

Your encounters basically spin around Patrick tearing off whatever you're wearing and covering your whole body with kisses. He whispers surprisingly sweet nothings into your ear while his hands rediscover the curves of your body. He eats you out like there's no tomorrow, making love to your pussy with his mouth. His tongue reaches places, drinking in your sweet nectar and making your back arch and hips grind against his face. He relishes the feeling of your thighs squeezing his head until he's certain his skills might burst soon, and that is all worth it. For Patrick, everything is worth it, if, by the end of it, he gets you to cum all over his face.

"Pat I- 'm close." your voice gets broken mid sentence, hips buckling up to meet Patrick's mouth. 

"Good, baby, good," he coddles, words muffled against your warm skin, tongue circling around your clit as his pointer and middle finger keep pumping in and out. "Just let go honey." 

And you do, moaning his name, hands tightening where they are tangled in his hair. Both of you are on cloud nine - your, from the heavenly orgasm and Patrick, from the sweet delight in your strained voice.

He remains in the bed next to you for a while, holding you and stroking your hair, while the conversation slowly dies. But the moment Patrick attempts to settle under the sheets, you kick him off, insisting on having to get up early in the morning. 

"I don't get it, Y/N," Patrick huffs as he buttons up his pants, eyes roaming up and down over your bare figure while you reach for your nightie. "I make you cum so loud you might wake up the whole street and now you're kicking me out." 

"I'm not kicking you out Patrick." you mumble, sliding into your slippers. 

But Patrick doesn't buy your bullshit. "You are. And it's not the first time you're doing it." 

He seems to see right through you, to know that you're perfectly capable of getting up early and performing your whole morning routine with him occupying your bed. No. There is more to that, much more that you're not telling him. And he wants so bad to have you tell him the truth. 

"You could just let me stay here, y'know. I'm not a thief or something." Patrick continues, a half ironic smile on his face as he moves closer towards you. His hands find place on your hips and he pulls your back into his chest. "You're not afraid of me, are you?" 

Afraid? That is the lightest way to put it. Actually, you are beyond terrified, completely spooked by the idea of opening up to someone who used to be your best friend's boyfriend. To someone who's dick you're taking into your mouth multiple nights per week. And that is exactly where it has to end, that is where you have to set a clear boundary for Patrick to cross.

"Where was I ever afraid of you, Patrick?" you scoff, turning around in Patrick's arms. It almost breaks your heart when you are met with an unusually soft smile on his face, knowing damn well Patrick is interpreting this in a completely different way. 

It's not that you don't want to love Patrick, no, quite the opposite. But you know the two of you wouldn't be able to last. Despite allowing to discover each other's gentle side and showing one another unusual forms of comfort that both of you clearly needed, you two are still so incredibly different.

Patrick Zweig is the epitome of chaos. While he's all heart, he has little to no sense of understanding in some situations that are important to you. In stark contrast to your gentle life, Patrick is reckless and hazards in various ways. Perhaps it fills his need for adrenaline, for being seen by large groups of people and adored for that big bad wolf persona he's built up during his years of tennis. 

You, on the other hand, strive for a more gentle life. After all that you've experienced at your young age, you already feel burnt out, and can't really imagine the idea of shaking your ass at bars and clubs to loud music and getting wasted. What you need is comfort and someone who's on the same emotional level with you. And while Patrick can provide what you need, from time to time, you're afraid it won't be able to last. Hence the cold shoulder. 

"Then why are you pushing me away constantly?" he presses, a small pout on his lips. His gaze drops to your own, desiring to taste you once again. "Can I kiss you?" 

It pains you to refuse him. "Just go." 

Over the next few days, Patrick sends you various messages, even attempts to call you. Your phone keeps beeping and vibrating, but you keep ignoring every single attempt of his, reminding yourself that it's for the better. Patrick will be alright, you're sure of it, he always is. He'll find a new girl - in a pub, on Tinder, anywhere - who he'll fall into and he'll reciprocate his feelings. 

It comes off as a surprise when you bump into him one day in the grocery store, thinking he might be out of the city. After all, he rarely stays there, usually just coming to visit you specifically, staying for the night and then being gone for a few days. 

"Y/N." a small smile tugs onto Patrick's lips as he sees you, eyes roaming over your form and groceries filled arms. "Need some help?" 

"No, no, I'm good." with a shake of your head, you reject his advances and move forward, shoulder mildly bumping into his. Better to keep it simple. 

"What the hell's your deal?" Patrick retorts, immediately moving after you. His voice rises, earning a glance from some people in the aisle, but that doesn't concern him.

You just shrug, an expression of indifference on your face. "Nothing." 

A hand on your arm stops you and you're pulled back against Patrick. He manages to keep himself casual, the touch moving onto your lower back, so as not to draw any suspicion and he even swiftly catches a packaging of toast bread that slips from your hold. "Don't bullshit me, Y/N. You've been ignoring me for like two weeks. That's not like you." 

"I'm not ignoring you." your eyes roll and you snatch the toast bread from his hands. 

"You are, Y/N." he presses, gaze roaming all over your gruff expression. "Can't you just tell me what's wrong?" 

"Nothing's wrong Patrick, my god, just mind your own business." 

You leave him in there, standing in the middle of the aisle, surrounded by strangers and his own miserable thoughts. Poor Patrick is clueless, unable to understand what the hell he has done to you for you to suddenly cross his name out like that.

The calls and messages get even worse, he's sending you one almost every minute there is a phone in his hands, eager for every form of contact. 

Patrick: Y/N

Patrick: c'mon... 

Patrick: don't ignore me bby

Patrick: i miss u

Patrick: ur my only girl

Patrick: ... 

Patrick: i love you

He's an idiot. Probably drunk, you think when you reread the message for the hundredth time during one particular evening, eyes welling in your eyes the longer you stare at it. He surely can't mean it. 

Patrick: fuck

Patrick: ignore that

Patrick: can i call u? 

Patrick: text me pls

Patrick: i wanna see u

Patrick: :(

He's really getting desperate, considering just breaking the door to your apartment and pushing you against the nearest surface, forcing you to listen to whatever he has to tell you. And he actually went to your place, to the apartment you live in, but never went further than standing by the door. Oh, how he wanted to knock each time he was there. How much he wanted to see your face and hear your voice. 

But you never respond, never react, trying to convince yourself you're doing what's best for you both. Perhaps you are naive, a bit too much, and in reality, your treatment only results in hurting both of you. 

And Patrick can't fucking bear it anymore, so he actually musters up all his remaining courage and travels to your place once again. Marching up with determined footsteps, he approaches your apartment and knocks and knocks and knocks on the door until you eventually open it, half asleep.

"Patrick?" 

"Y/N." 

Your swift attempt to close the door ends in vain as Patrick basically pushes himself into your apartment, refusing to be shut down once again. 

"We need to talk." 

"Piss off." you respond with a mumble, voice coming out more hostile than you actually planned. With a shudder, you abandon him, not feeling like facing him at the moment. Because whatever is about to happen, it's bound to end up as a tragedy. 

"Don't you dare talk to me like that." Patrick hisses in an aggrieved manner, following you to the living room. "You owe me at least an explanation." 

You know you do. But you can't bring yourself to give him any. "I don't owe you anything, Patrick." 

"You know damn well that you do. At least look me in the eyes when I'm talking to you." he's genuinely getting pissed off by your attitude. You always used to be so adamant on honesty, believing everyone deserves some form of a gentle treatment, and mainly to be told the truth. In your own words, people don't deserve to just be shut off. But here you are, doing the exact same thing you stand against. 

When you refuse to listen to him, Patrick gets fed up. His hands grab your arms tightly - for the first time not attempting to be cautious or gentle - and just yanks you towards himself. Finally, his eyes meet yours, fully, both of you wearing equally tired expressions. It's no secret this has been tough for both of you. 

"Can you listen to me for once?" he speaks softly, a glimpse of hope, accompanied by a light squeeze of your arms to keep your attention on himself. 

"This is stupid, Patrick." you retort, eyes rolling in an attempt to ignore the sudden closeness of his presence. "Just stop. Go home or go fuck someone. Just go and be happy." 

Patrick's expression drops upon hearing your words, mentally attempting to put one and one together to fully understand what you're attempting to convey. "Why are you pushing me away?" 

His hold on your arms eases, allowing you to slip them out of his hold and step away. Almost on instinct, your palms come up to rub those two spots, not that they're sore or hurt, but you wish to wipe his touch away. "Cause it's better for both of us." 

Finally, you admit to it, wanting to, slowly but surely, erase Patrick from your presence, from your life perhaps, as you've convinced yourself it shall ease the worries of both of you. 

"What the fuck?" he scoffs, stepping closer once again. "How would that be better?" 

"Because we can't continue with this, for fuck's sake. Patrick, we can't just fuck because we feel like it and-" 

"Why not?" 

"What?" 

"Why can't we just fuck?" Patrick insists, approaching you fully. He corners you against the windowsill and rests his hands on it, caging you in. 

You stare him in the eyes, lips parting as you search for an answer. Why couldn't the two of you just fuck? You're both single, no responsibilities and no people to remain loyal to. And you both enjoy the frequency of your encounters, knowing each other's bodies like the backs of your own hands, knowing exactly what the other person loves and despises. Your main priorities are to satisfy the other one, to make sure each one of you feels equally loved and accepted and comfortable in whatever this is. So why can't you just fuck? 

"I wanna fuck you, Y/N." he presses further, leaning into your personal space, so close that the top of his nose brushes against yours. "I wanna fuck you and then I wanna hold you. I don't want you to push me away and just let me stay with you, even when you're all sweaty and messy." 

"Patrick-" 

"Don't. Just listen to me for once and shut up. Stop worrying for a goddamn minute and listen to me, hear me out when I tell you that I want to be with you every second of my life, that I want you in my arms, kissing me, looking at me and paying attention only to me. Not any other man."

"There's no other man." you interfere, eyes flicking between Patrick's to search for any hint of rationality. 

"But there's no me either." he protests, voice raising. Fat from gentle, far from soft, there's not even that playful edge in his voice anymore. There is a hint of something dangerous hidden behind his blue eyes. "And I want there to be. Are you really that stupid to not see that I love you? That I wanna be with you and be your boyfriend? Want you to be my girl?" 

"Patrick, I-" again, you attempt to say something, anything, but no words leave your mouth. Your whole mind is clouded by the sudden confession. He loves you? But... 

It all connects all of a sudden, realising what he messaged you was intentional, was nothing but the sheer truth. All the little signs and hints. All the times he held onto you, clutched your bare body against his and desired to remain buried under the sheets with you. All the pouts and protests when you wouldn't let him stay, when you wouldn't engage in normal couple-ish activities that he wished so hard for. All the subtle touches, on your back, shoulders, face, stroking your cheeks and scratches on your back. These and so much more were visible, at least Patrick thought so. These were the hints Patrick was giving you, desperately hoping you'd pick up on it and notice how smitten he is with you. 

"I love you, Y/N." he whispers, hands grabbing your face, too afraid you're gonna disappear from his grasp if he doesn't hold you tight enough. His thumbs graze your cheeks. "And I need to know if you love me too." 

But do you? Can you afford to love Patrick, the man who was initially your best friend's boyfriend, the man you first fucked out of spite and in symbolic revenge and then found yourself caring too deeply for? Are you willing to be in a messy relationship that would undoubtedly completely alter the direction of your life? 

"I don't know, Patrick." 

"You don't know or you just don't wanna answer?" 

He can see right through you, it's insane. It pains you that you've no idea how to decide, what to say, what to tell him. So you just shudder, attempting to cast a smile and ease Patrick's worries at least somehow. "I don't want us to get hurt."

"We won't." he promises, adamant on keeping it. 

"How can you be so sure about it?" it's obvious you are doubting your possible relationship, knowing what kinds of people the two of you are.

"Because I love you."