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#realizing that someone KNEW me and LOVED me and CARED about me
faithshouseofchaos · 2 days
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hi i don't think this is a real request but for franco colapinto it's kinda cliche ikr (but i believe in your writing skills so)
older reader (u don't need to specific the age) who refuse to be with franco bc she thinks it's better for him to be with someone close his age, but ofc they're in love and franco is down bad for her even though she's kinda cruel sometimes
so angst with a happy end? or at least something realistic? idk and it's up to u to add other stuff! *oh and they're from the same country or foreigners etc*
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“She calls me kidz bop” — Franco colapinto x fem!reader
Word count 3.5k
Warnings — Angst, heavy makeouts allusion of smut
This isn’t as good as I thought it would be
Tagged— @crispysoup318 @meeel-things @bieberismysoulmate @dejavuontrack @barcelonaloverf1life @nominsgirl @bluebluesol @chenlesbitxh @ironmaiden1313 @chunkpiboli @kr7-i-know-what-im-doing
Franco watched as y/n stood talking to her fellow driver Something deep inside him wished that she gave him the same attention as she did the rest of them. It didn’t matter if they had feelings for each other. It also didn’t matter that she was so cruel to him and gave him nicknames like Kidz Bop, Teeny Bopper, or Rug Rat.
He didn’t mind the teasing or the nicknames, he could take it. He’s used to being teased by others but not by the one he’s falling for, and he didn’t want to admit it but a part of him knew he was slowly concluding that he loved her. Franco leaned against the garage wall, staring at the ground with his hands shoved in his pockets.
He continued to observe y/n’s body language. The way she stood with her arms crossed, the way she laughed at the other driver’s jokes, even the way she tucked a strand of hair behind her ear. It was maddening.
Franco clenched his jaw, trying to hold back his frustration. He wanted to speak to her but he was uncertain of what to say. As he watched her, he noticed she was glancing his way. A small smile crept onto his lips as he realized that she was looking his way. He felt a flutter in his chest, a mix of hope and nervousness. He took a deep breath, summoning his courage, and finally stepped forward.
As he approached, he could feel her eyes on him, studying him. He tried to act casually, his hands still in his pockets, but he couldn’t help the way his heart was racing. He cleared his throat, “Hey, can I talk to you for a second?”
Y/n turned her attention away from her co-drivers and looked at Franco, raising an eyebrow. “Sure, what do you want?”
Franco swallowed hard, trying to ignore the coolness in her voice. He took a step closer, not caring that they had an audience, “Can we talk somewhere a little more private?”
Y/n nodded, gesturing for him to follow her out of the garage. Once they were alone in a secluded area, she turned to him with her arms crossed. “What's on your mind, kidz bop?”
Franco took a deep breath, trying to ignore the nickname. He knew it was her way of keeping him at arm’s length, but it stung nonetheless. He looked into her eyes, gathering his courage. “I wanted to talk to you about us…”
Y/n’s expression remained neutral, but he could see a flicker of something in her eyes. She raised an eyebrow, “What about us?”
Franco rubbed the back of his neck, nervous. “Well, I just wanted to know…if there’s ever a chance for us?”
Y/n let out a snort, “A chance? Kidz bop, you’re way too young for me. You need to find someone your age.” Franco's heart sank at her words, but he tried to hide his disappointment. “I don’t care about age. I just want to be with you.”
Y/n rolled her eyes, “Yeah, yeah, very romantic. But I’m not interested in dating some kid who still has a curfew. I need someone more mature.” Franco clenched his fists in frustration, “I’m not a kid. I’m just as mature as any other driver out there.”
Y/n raised an eyebrow, “Yeah, sure you are. I bet you still have a teddy bear in your bed and your mom still picks out your outfits.” Franco's cheeks flushed with embarrassment, but he tried to maintain his composure. He couldn’t deny that he had a teddy bear, but he certainly hadn’t asked his mom for fashion advice since he was 12.
“I’m a grown man,” he protested, “Just because I’m a rookie doesn’t mean I’m immature.” Y/n leaned against the wall, still looking unimpressed. “Oh? Prove it then, Teeny Bopper. Show me how mature you are.”
Franco was determined to show her that he wasn’t just some naïve rookie. He took a step closer to her, his heart pounding. “Fine. I’ll prove it to you.”
Y/n raised an eyebrow, intrigued by his sudden confidence. “Alright, I’m listening. Go ahead and impress me, rug rat.” Franco took a deep breath, trying to calm his nerves. He was suddenly keenly aware of how close they were standing to each other. He could smell her perfume, a soft, musky scent that made his head spin.
He looked into her eyes, unflinching. “I’ll prove it by showing you that I’m serious about this. I’m not just some kid who doesn’t know what he wants. I know what I want, and it’s you.” Y/n’s expression softened just a bit. She was impressed by his directness, but still unconvinced. “You’re young, Franco. You don’t know what you want. You just think you do.”
Franco took another step closer to her. “I may be young, but I’ve never been more sure of anything in my life. I’m done with being treated like a kid. I know what I want, and I’m not going to give up until I get it.” Y/n’s heart skipped a beat at his words, but she tried to maintain her cool facade. “You’re not going to give up, huh? You’re stubborn, aren’t you?”
Franco smirked, feeling a rush of confidence. “I can be when I want something. And I want you.”
He took another step forward, closing the gap between them. He was now standing so close to her that he could feel the heat of her body. Y/n’s breath caught in her throat as he stepped closer. She hadn’t expected him to be so direct. She could feel the heat radiating off of him, and she had to fight the urge to reach out and touch him. But she held her ground, refusing to let him see how her resolve was starting to crumble.
“You don’t even know what you’re getting yourself into, kidz bop,” she teased, but there was a hint of uncertainty in her voice just before she walked away from him. Franco watched her walk away, a mix of frustration and determination coursing through his veins. He knew he had gotten to her this time, he had seen the flicker of uncertainty in her eyes.
He wasn’t going to give up, not until he had proven to her that he was serious. He was in love with her, and he wasn’t going to let her brush him off like some naive rookie.
Once again Franco found himself watching and observing y/n and this time was brought out of his thoughts by a large hand clapping him on the shoulder “You good there Franco?” Charles asked. Franco looked over at him and then back at y/n whose eyebrows were bunched up together and her lips in a thin tight line.
“Yeah I’m good,” Franco answered, looking down at his feet. Charles chuckled at Franco’s obvious lie. He followed Franco’s gaze to y/n, his smirk growing even more as he looked at her. “You have it bad don’t you?” Charles teased. Franco quickly shoved Charles’s arm off him as he gave him a nasty glare.
Charles cackled in response. “I’ve seen the way you look at her. How long are you gonna sit on your ass and not do something?” Charles said.
“There’s a reason why I haven’t,” Franco said, still stubbornly keeping his eyes on y/n.
“Which is?” Charles prompted.
“She’s too old for me,” Franco said. Charles’s jaw dropped.
“Bullshit! She’s what, 26? You’re 21! It’s not that big of an age difference, "he said.
“She thinks it is,” Franco said. Charles shook his head in disbelief at Franco’s stupidity.
“Goddamnit Franco. You’re a pretty handsome kid, why are you letting her have that much control over you? If you feel something for her then do something about it” Charles said.
Franco tore his eyes from y/n to look at Charles “There is something between us. But every time I try to talk to her about it, she shuts it down. Says that she’s too old for me and would rather I find someone my age” he confessed. Charles let out a scoff “She doesn’t mean it. She’s just running away because she doesn’t want to admit her feelings for you” he said.
Franco shook his head. “You don’t know that and besides she’s mean to me and she calls me kidz bop, teeny bopper, or rug rat.”
Charles rolled his eyes “Franco I’ve known y/n for much longer than you being mean to someone is her love language trust me the meaner she is to someone the more she cares for them. She calls me a pretty boy. She calls Fernando an old man. I've seen the way she looks at you. There’s no way she feels nothing.” Franco’s heart skipped a beat at Charles’s words.
“W-what do you mean ‘the way she looks at me’” he asked.
Charles smirked again “I mean you’re constantly in her line of sight whenever you’re in a room. Anytime she’s near you, she always seems to be hyper-aware of it. I don’t think she’s as immune to your charms as she makes herself seem.”
As much as Franco wanted to believe what Charles was telling him it was too hard. He’s seen the way y/n talks to the other drivers. They weren’t like that.
“I get that your old ass has much more relationship experience than I do. But you just don’t understand” Franco muttered, refusing to look at Charles. Charles shook his head at Franco “You’re a lot denser than I thought you were. If you’re gonna waste your opportunity with her then that’s your problem, not mine” he said before he sauntered off, leaving Franco by himself.
Franco stood there, his mind reeling from Charles's words. He couldn't shake the feeling that Charles was right about y/n. That she had feelings for him beneath all her harsh words and belittling nicknames. But he couldn't be sure.
Franco looked over to where y/n was still standing, her expression still tight and cold. He tried to muster up the courage to approach her again, but he couldn’t find the words. He was too overwhelmed by the possibility that she could feel something for him. He took a deep breath, steeling himself for whatever rejection came his way. Franco began to slowly make his way toward her, his heart pounding in his chest. With each step, he felt as though he was walking through mud, his legs refusing to cooperate.
Finally, he stood in front of her, his eyes locked on hers. “Can I talk to you for a second?” he asked, his voice much softer than he had intended.
She looked up at him, her eyes flickering with an unreadable expression. For a moment, he thought she was going to brush him off like she had so many times before.
“Fine. What do you want?” she asked, her voice as icy as ever. Franco swallowed hard, trying to keep his composure. He had practiced all the things he wanted to say in his head, but now that he was standing in front of her, all of his words seemed to have vanished.
He took a deep breath, trying to steady himself. "I just wanted to talk to you about us." "I know we're colleagues, but there's something more there, isn't there?" he said, his voice betraying a hint of vulnerability.
She paused for a moment, her expression faltering for just a split second before her walls went back up. "Whatever gave you that idea?" she asked, feigning indifference. Franco took a small step forward, closing the space between them. He could feel the heat radiating off of her body, making him heady with desire.
"The way you look at me. The way you always watch me. I know you feel it too. You're just too scared to admit it." Her breath caught in her throat as he neared. She tried to pretend that his words did not affect her, but he could see the subtle change in her breathing, the way her body seemed to gravitate towards him.
"Scared? I'm not scared of anything, least of all you," she retorted, hoping he didn't notice the waver in her voice. "Then prove it," he said, his voice suddenly low and intense. He was so close to her now that he could see the rapid rise and fall of her chest, the way her pulse fluttered in her neck.
He reached out and brushed a strand of hair away from her face, his fingers lingering against the softness of her skin. Her breath hitched at his touch, her eyes fluttering shut for a brief moment. She fought the urge to lean into his touch, to finally give in to the overwhelming amount of tension that hung in the air between them. But she forced herself to take a step back, pulling herself out of his reach. "I don't have anything to prove to you," she said, her voice trembling ever so slightly.
Franco couldn’t help the pang of disappointment that shot through him as she pulled away. He knew he was getting under her skin, but she was still fighting him.
But he had a card he hadn't played yet.
“Then why is this so hard?” he asked, his tone soft and gentle. “If we're just colleagues, then it should be easy for you to turn me down. Right?”
Inwardly, she was cursing his stubbornness. But he was right, and she was losing the battle with herself. She had been trying so hard to keep her feelings locked away, to deny the attraction that was growing hotter and hotter each day.
She tried to come up with a witty retort, but her throat was dry, and her mind was fuzzy. The way he was looking at her, the way he was so sure of himself, it was chipping away at her defenses. He took another step closer, closing the gap between them again. “Come on, admit it. This isn’t just some one-sided thing. You feel it too.”
She could feel his breath on her skin, the heat of his body so close to hers. She thought about denying it, pushing him away once more, but the words wouldn’t come.
Instead, she did the one thing she had promised herself she wouldn’t do.
She melted.
It was as if all the tension and resistance she had built up just disappeared. She found herself leaning into him, her body drawn to his like a magnet.
She looked up at him, her eyes betraying the vulnerability and desire that she had tried so hard to hide. "Franco..." she whispered. The sound of his name on her lips sent a jolt of electricity through his body. He could see the change in her eyes, the way they darkened with emotion.
He moved closer to her, his arms closing around her waist, pulling her against him. He leaned in, his lips hovering just inches from her ear. "Say it. Say you want me." The heat of his body against hers combined with the huskiness of his voice sent shivers down her spine. She closed her eyes, her body molding itself to his.
She took a shaky breath, her voice wavering. "I want you, Franco. Damn it, I want you." A rush of satisfaction and relief washed over him as he heard her words. He’d finally broken through her defenses, and now he had her exactly where he wanted her.
He pulled her even closer, his hands slipping under the hem of her shirt, his fingers tracing the bare skin of her back.
“You have no idea how long I've wanted to hear you say that," he murmured against her neck. She let out a soft gasp as he touched her skin, her body arching into him. She wrapped her arms around his neck, tangling her fingers in his hair.
She had tried to deny it for so long, but now that she had finally given in, it was like an unstoppable force of nature. All she wanted was to be closer to him, to feel him completely. He claimed her mouth in a deep, searing kiss, his body pressing her against the wall. His hands roamed over her skin, exploring every curve and contour of her body. It felt like a dam had broken, and all the pent-up desire that had been building between them was suddenly unleashed.
She returned his kiss with equal fervor, her tongue tangling with his. She ran her hands along his chest, feeling the taut muscles beneath his shirt.
She wanted more, so much more. She was drowning in the sensation of him, losing herself in the heat and the passion of their embrace. Franco pressed himself against her, trapping her between the wall and his body. He broke the kiss, his lips trailing down her neck, nipping and sucking at her skin.
He could feel her coming undone, her body growing more and more pliant against his. He could tell that she wanted him just as much as he wanted her, and it was driving him insane. She let out a desperate gasp as he found a particularly sensitive spot beneath her ear, her hands gripping his shoulders tightly. She couldn't think straight, her mind fuzzy with desire. The only thing that existed at that moment was the feel of his body against hers, the taste of his skin, and the way his hands sent sparks of pleasure dancing over her skin.
He continued to explore her body, his hands drifting down her sides, his fingertips tracing the edge of her waistband. He dipped his head lower, his lips trailing along her collarbone, then down her chest, leaving a trail of hot, open-mouthed kisses on her skin. She whimpered and shivered beneath his touch, her body becoming a raw nerve of sensation. Her hips rocked against his, seeking more contact, more friction. She felt like she was on fire, burning up from the inside out.
He could feel her body reacting to his every touch, the way her hips moved against his, the way her hands clutched at his hair, pulling him closer. He could hear the soft gasps and moans escaping her lips, the sound sending a flood of heat straight to his core.
He pulled away just long enough to look at her, his eyes dark and intense.
“God, I love it when you make those sounds,” he said, his voice low and gravelly. The desire in his gaze, the rough rasp of his voice, it was too much for her. She reached up and pulled him back down to her, her lips crashing against his in a fierce kiss.
Her body was overwhelmed by the intensity of her desire for him, the need for him almost unbearable. He met her kiss with urgency, his tongue delving into her mouth, claiming her completely. He pressed himself against her, his body fitting perfectly against hers.
He let his hands slide down to her thighs, lifting her so her legs wrapped around his waist, pinning her against the wall. She wrapped her legs around him, her body flush against his. She could feel every muscle, every contour, every inch of him. She couldn't get enough, she wanted to be even closer.
She tangled her fingers in his hair, holding him tight against her, her tongue exploring his mouth with feverish desperation. He pressed himself harder against her, his body desperate to get even closer to hers. He let his hands slide up to her hips, his fingers digging into the soft flesh.
He broke the kiss, his lips trailing down her neck, his teeth grazing her skin. He wanted to taste every inch of her, to mark her as his. She tilted her head back, exposing her neck to him, her body arching into his touch. A soft moan escaped her lips as he licked and sucked at her skin, his stubble sending sparks of pleasure dancing across her nerve endings. He found a particularly sensitive spot just below her ear, and he lingered there, his lips and tongue working her into a frenzy. He could feel her responding to his touch, her body trembling against his, moans and gasps escaping from her lips.
He nipped and sucked at her skin, leaving a trail of red marks down her neck and collarbone. She was completely undone, her mind consumed with nothing but him and the pleasure he was causing her. Her breath came in ragged gasps, her body writhing against his.
Each flick of his tongue and each press of his lips sent shockwaves of ecstasy through her body, stoking the fire that burned within her. He pulled back slightly, taking in the sight of her - flushed and breathless, completely at his mercy. He wanted to claim her completely, to make her his in every way possible.
He lowered her down just a little bit, his body still pressed close to hers, and he looked into her eyes, his gaze intense and hungry. She gazed up at him, her eyes dark and hooded with desire. Her hair was tousled, and her shirt wrinkled where his hands had been. She looked wrecked already and they'd barely even started.
She met his gaze, her own just as hungry and intense. She wanted him just as badly as he wanted her, and nothing was going to stop them now.
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2amriize · 2 days
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˚⟡˖ RIIZE angry confessions
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ᡣ𐭩 masterlist genre angst, fluff pairing riize x reader
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ᯓ★ SHOTARO
Shotaro had been in love with you for a while, but he always felt that you only saw him as a good friend. Because of this, he decided not to confess his feelings. You two had known each other for years, and although he only realized his feelings a few months ago, he had always felt a bit strange when he saw you with other guys. Back then, he didn't admit it, but he was jealous. He couldn't understand why, despite laughing with him more than anyone else, you still seemed to prefer other guys. Deep down, he felt like he wasn't enough.
Since he realized he was in love with you, you hadn’t mentioned liking any other guys, so Shotaro hadn't felt jealous in a while—until it happened.
One day, while you were having an afternoon snack at a café with Shotaro, something you did often, you spotted a guy from your class who you thought was really cute entering the café. You couldn’t help but feel nervous.
"Oh my god..." you murmured, trying to look away.
“What’s up?” Shotaro asked, turning to see what had caught your attention.
“It’s that guy from my class… He’s…”
“Oh, do you have a crush on him?” Shotaro glanced at the guy for a few seconds before turning back around and letting out a small sigh. “He’s not good for you.”
“Huh? Why do you say that?”
“He looks like trouble. And I don’t think he’s right for you.”
Shotaro had never said anything like that to you before, and it made you a bit angry. What was he implying?
“Since when do you care about what's good for me, Shotaro?” you asked, giving him a serious look, clearly upset by his words. He looked back at you in silence for a few seconds.
“Since I…” He bit his lip and shook his head. “Nevermind.”
“Since what, Shotaro? Why do you suddenly care about the guys I like? It’s none of your business…”
“Because I’m in love with you, Y/N!” Shotaro cut you off, standing up and looking at you intensely. “That’s why, alright? Are you happy now?” He grabbed his things and stormed out of the café.
ᯓ★ EUNSEOK
It was the way Eunseok looked at you that made everyone else realize how much he liked you. Well, everyone except for you. From the moment he met you, Eunseok knew he had feelings for you, but there wasn’t much he could do about it because at the time, you were dating someone else.
When you broke up with that guy, Eunseok was there for you whenever you needed him, supporting you. But that was all he could do—be by your side—because he felt like you didn’t see him the same way he saw you. Even though everyone always mentioned how Eunseok looked at you, you would always reply with, “I don’t know why everyone keeps saying that, Eunseok looks at everyone like that…”
To be honest, sometimes you had thought about it—whether Eunseok really had feelings for you like everyone said—but it didn’t make sense to you, so you would quickly brush it off. On the other hand, Eunseok was finding it harder and harder to contain his feelings. It never seemed like the right moment to confess, especially since you had been going through an on-again, off-again relationship with the same guy for a while, something Eunseok couldn’t stand.
“You got back with him again?” Eunseok asked with a sigh as you both sat on the grass at a friend’s birthday party. You had stepped outside to get some fresh air.
“Yeah… I feel like it’s what I should do.”
“Why, Y/N? Sometimes you make the dumbest decisions…”
“Excuse me?” You looked at him, surprised by the way he spoke. Eunseok had always supported you, and this was the first time he sounded frustrated. “It’s not dumb…”
“Isn’t it? To keep chasing after someone who doesn’t treat you the way you deserve?”
“What do you mean, Eunseok? He treats me well… we just have a few little fights sometimes. Besides, I go back to him because he’s the only one who cares about me at the end of the day, because…”
“Oh my god, Y/N, how can you be so blind?” Eunseok interrupted, looking at you with clear frustration.
“What…?”
As he stood up to go back inside, he murmured, “I don’t understand how you can’t see that the person who loves you the most is right in front of you…”
ᯓ★ SUNGCHAN
Sungchan had been looking out for you since day one. You had known each other since elementary school, and ever since then, you had always been together. He was always by your side, making sure you were okay and safe. You two spent so much time together that people who didn’t know you well often thought you were dating, something you always denied immediately to avoid awkwardness.
Sungchan never took it personally when you denied it—he tried to brush it off quickly—until it happened in a situation unlike any other before. You had never had a boyfriend, mostly because you hadn’t really been interested in any guys… until now. There was this one guy you’d been noticing lately, someone you found intriguing, but you hadn’t told anyone about it because it made you a little shy.
To your surprise, your friends invited this guy to a lunch gathering that you and Sungchan were also attending. When you saw him approaching with your friends, you couldn’t hide your nervousness, which Sungchan immediately noticed. And, as usual, the guy asked how long you and Sungchan had been together.
“No, him and me? We’re not a couple. Not at all. Never,” you said quickly, letting out a nervous laugh.
Sungchan stared at you in silence. He couldn’t believe what you had just done. Normally, you would simply say, “No, we’re just friends,” but this time, it felt like you had overreacted, and it hurt him. As you continued talking more with the guy, Sungchan started to feel left out (and jealous), so he let out a small laugh and walked away to another spot.
It took you a few minutes to realize Sungchan was no longer there, behind you, where he had always been. Confused, you quietly excused yourself from the group to go find him. After searching for a bit, you finally found him leaning against a tree, sipping his drink. You approached and touched his shoulder, and he looked at you with an expression you had never seen on him before.
“Why did you leave, Sungchan? Did something happen?”
“It seemed like you didn’t need me there anymore,” he said, turning his gaze away from you.
“What do you mean?”
“I didn’t know you hated the idea of people seeing us as a couple… or rather, that he saw us as a couple.”
“Sungchan, you know that’s not it. We’re not dating, you know? I always say the same thing. I don’t get why you’re acting like this now…”
“I’ve been following you around like a lost puppy since the day we met, yet you couldn’t see?” Sungchan turned to face you, locking eyes with you for a few seconds.
“What… what do you mean…?” you murmured, feeling your cheeks heat up.
“It’s… nevermind,” he said, walking away.
ᯓ★ WONBIN
Wonbin was a friend of one of your friends, and although you had met him several times before, you didn’t really start talking until a few months ago. To both of your surprise, you had a lot of common interests, which meant you had been talking more and more lately.
Whenever you hung out with your group of friends, it wasn’t unusual for you and Wonbin to spend the entire time together, which led to people starting to suspect there was something going on between you two. However, everyone knew that you had been interested in another guy for a while, a guy who constantly gave you mixed signals. But you were so blinded by the way he treated you that you couldn’t see he was just playing with your feelings.
This was something Wonbin knew, and it was starting to bother him more and more. At first, he didn’t care much, but the more he got to know you, the more frustrated he became with how this guy was treating you. And that’s when he realized that maybe he didn’t see you just as a friend anymore. The moment he came to that realization, he regretted it, knowing that you only had eyes for someone else, and he felt like you’d never notice him.
One evening, you were hanging out with your friends, and for some reason, you all decided to drink. Wonbin wasn’t very good at drinking, so it didn’t take long for him to get tipsy, his cheeks flushed. When Wonbin got drunk, he became even more affectionate than usual. You had also been drinking, but it didn’t affect you as much.
At one point, Wonbin went outside to get some fresh air because he was feeling a bit dizzy, and you followed him to check if he was okay. While outside, you started talking about the guy you liked, and unlike usual, Wonbin didn’t respond or pay much attention. When you noticed he was staring off into the distance, you looked at him.
“Wonbin? Are you okay?”
He stared at you for a few seconds, and just when it seemed like he was about to say something, he sighed and buried his face in his hands, muttering, “Do you like that guy so much that you can’t see what he’s doing to you?”
“Huh? What are you talking about, Wonbin? He treats me really well…”
“Yeah, that’s what you think…”
“You don’t have the right to talk about him like that when you don’t even know him,” you said, getting annoyed at how Wonbin was speaking badly about him.
After a few seconds of silence, Wonbin looked at you and shook his head.
“…This is why I knew I shouldn’t have gotten close to you.”
“What are you talking about, Wonbin?”
“I just… wish you wouldn’t keep seeing that guy.”
“You don’t have the right to say that.”
“I wish I did.”
ᯓ★ SEUNGHAN
Everyone, even you, knew how much Seunghan liked you. But you always ignored his feelings because you preferred not to face that reality. You had been friends for so many years that you didn't want to risk your friendship over it. Still, you couldn't deny that you treated him differently from everyone else, being much more affectionate and always relying on him when you needed someone. Seunghan was always there for you, no matter what. It didn’t matter if you were on the other side of the city and only needed a pen—he would come and bring it to you. That’s how much you meant to him, and everyone could see it.
That’s why, when he heard from others that you were starting to get to know another guy, he felt his heart break a little. He knew you two weren’t a couple and that he had never confessed his feelings, but it still hurt to find out from someone else, especially when you knew how he felt. The thought of you with another guy was something he couldn't stand.
He tried to distance himself from you for a while after hearing the news, but he just couldn’t. He couldn’t say no when you asked him to pick you up from class to take you home, even though he knew you probably had an important date. Despite knowing this date might be with the other guy, he couldn’t bring himself to refuse, so he picked you up just as you had asked.
The whole ride, he was quiet and serious, something you found odd since Seunghan had never behaved like this around you. He was always so sweet and cheerful when he was with you.
"Seunghan, is something wrong? You seem really serious," you asked when he parked in front of your house after the silent ride.
"No, don't worry," he murmured without looking at you.
"I know something’s bothering you…"
"Don't you have to go get ready for your date?"
The way Seunghan looked at you and the tone he used when mentioning your date made you realize he knew about it, and he seemed quite upset.
"Seunghan, you know I care about you a lot, but it’s just…"
"You know. You know I love you and took full advantage of the fact that I'd do anything for you. And I know that. I just kept at it, hoping that one day you'd value me just as much."
You froze after hearing Seunghan’s words. You couldn’t help but feel bad for making him feel this way, though it was never your intention. Before you could even respond, Seunghan spoke again.
"Just… get out. You’re going to be late."
ᯓ★ SOHEE
There had always been a sort of romantic tension between you and Sohee. Both of you were playful and touchy with each other, but that was all—just tension. Even though you both probably had feelings for each other, neither of you had confessed.
In fact, you were always waiting for him to confess, but that moment never seemed to come. The longer you waited, the more tired you grew of holding onto hope. Yet, despite that, you couldn’t seem to let go of the idea of him.
Knowing all of this, you still couldn’t ignore the guy who approached you at the party. You had come to the university party with Sohee, but he had gone off to talk to his friends. The guy, someone you hadn’t seen before, wasted no time approaching you once he saw Sohee wasn’t by your side.
You two talked for a while, and the guy even brushed your arm occasionally while locking eyes with you. You couldn’t deny feeling a bit nervous around him. He was charming and very attractive. After chatting for a bit, you excused yourself to go to the bathroom, promising you’d be right back.
You didn’t expect to find Sohee waiting for you outside the bathroom. You quickly noticed he’d had a few drinks.
"Sohee, have you been drinking?"
"Who was that guy?"
"Are you talking about the one I was talking to earlier? He’s a new guy at our faculty. He’s pretty nice. I was about to go back and talk to him."
"Don’t go back to him," Sohee muttered, lowering his head.
"Sohee, you can’t decide what I do."
"I know I can’t, but I don’t want you to talk to him again."
"Sohee, you’re just drunk and saying things that don’t make sense," you said, walking past him, heading back to the party.
"Y/n, I love you," you heard Sohee murmur as he grabbed your wrist, only to let it go after a few seconds. You looked at him, stunned, for a moment. "Is that what you wanted to hear? Are you happy now?" he said before walking away into the party, leaving you standing in the hallway, unsure of what to say or do.
ᯓ★ ANTON
You and Anton had been best friends for as long as you could remember. You went to the same school, and your mothers were close friends, so you spent many summers together. Even after graduating, you both ended up attending the same university, so you still saw each other daily.
It felt like you two were inseparable—until you started getting to know another guy. It took you a while to tell Anton about him since you’d never really talked about that kind of stuff before. When you finally did, you thought he took it well at first, but you noticed him starting to act strange, becoming more distant.
Although he said nothing was wrong, he always had excuses to avoid walking home with you, claiming he had plans to study with classmates in a café, something you found odd since he didn’t like studying in public. Even so, you decided to trust him and give him the space he seemed to need.
One day, as you were heading home, you spotted Anton walking in the distance. It had been a while since you’d seen him in person, so you decided to catch up with him. He smiled briefly when he saw you, but then quickly looked away and started walking faster.
"Anton, I feel like you’ve been acting weird these past weeks. Is something wrong?"
"Huh? No, you know… exams, new people… It’s just that. Nothing’s wrong."
"Are you sure? I feel like you’re pulling away from me, and if I’ve done something wrong, I want to know."
"Nothing’s wrong, y/n. You’ve just got other friends now, and I get it," he mumbled coldly. You stood there, thinking for a moment. In high school, you’d made new friends, and yet you and Anton still acted like you always had. Why was this time different?
"I feel like you’ve been off ever since I told you about Ricky…"
"Y/n. I just… don’t want to talk about it."
"Well, I do, Anton. I feel like you’re being selfish, only thinking about how you feel and not about how you’re making me feel," you said, frustrated, stopping in the middle of the street. Anton turned to look at you, serious.
"Well, I’m sorry I fell in love with you, okay? But it happened, and I can’t do shit about it."
"You… what?"
Anton stared at you for a few seconds, pressing his lips together before turning his back on you.
"Forget it, y/n. I’m just tired from all the studying."
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ᡣ𐭩 masterlist taglist: @regularsuh @gacktsa @totheseok @kkumistars @taroddori
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masonmontz · 1 day
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hellooo everyone :) hope you like it
REMEMBER: english is not my first language
angst word count: 9,5k
✦‎۟    ࣭   ⊹
“Y/N has a new boyfriend” Declan spoke and silence was the response he received. Mason felt his heart skip a beat and then fall to the floor, causing Mason to get a lump in his throat.
He just stared at Dec, trying to swallow the food he had put in his mouth before hearing the news. It took a lot of effort to swallow.
“I’m not hungry anymore” Mason pushed the plate away, feeling the strange sensation in his stomach, the same feeling that kept him awake at night. 
Lauren looked at him with pity and Mason felt like an idiot. Declan cleared his throat, realizing he shouldn't have told Mason the news, but what could he do if you were friends with him and Lauren too?
“Sorry mate, I shouldn't have said that” Declan apologized to Mason, but he shrugged it off, not placing the blame on Declan. 
“Who is the guy?” Reece asked, because after all he is also your friend. The restaurant seemed silent with the awkward atmosphere that remained at the table and Mason just stared at the plate he barely touched. 
“David. They work together” Lauren spoke and Mason looked at her, but Lauren was already looking at him waiting for Mason's reaction. Mason looked down and felt everyone's eyes on him, Dec, Lauren, Ben, Reece, Aimee and Henry. 
Mason felt like he was a bomb about to explode and everyone wanted to see the moment it happened.
“Sorry guys, I’m going home” Mason got up quickly and without looking at his friends, ‘cause he already knew that everyone noticed how affected he was by the news that you were dating, but he didn't want to see the pity in everyone's eyes. “Declan, pay my portion and I'll give you the money later.”
Mason left the restaurant quickly, but he heard Aimee's heels behind him and he sighed, knowing he wouldn't be able to outrun the stubborn woman running after him. 
“Mase, wait-” she called him, and Mason only stopped walking when he felt the cold air on his face, needing some fresh air. “Hey.”
“I can't take this anymore, Aimee. I can't” Mason's voice was cracked, and the state he had been in for almost two months was deplorable. “She left me in the shit.”
Mason knows that Aimee is your best friend and he knows that you two talk daily, but he needs to talk to someone ‘cause Mason feels like at any moment he will reach his breaking point. 
His eyes filled with tears, and he was looking out into the cold night but Aimee could see his eyes were wet. 
“I'm so sorry, Mase. I tried to talk to her about it but she won't let me” Aimee hugged Mason from the side, putting her arms around his shoulders, even though he was taller than her. 
Mason looked at her devastated, and Aimee felt her own heart ache at the sadness on Mason's face.
“I really can't take this anymore, it's too much for me, Aim” Mason sighed and brought his hands to his face, because he still felt his heart tighten in his chest, he wasn't hungry and he felt like he could vomit ‘cause of the emotions that were going through him.
He missed you.
He was sad.
He was alone.
And you left.
“You know you can talk to all of us, right? We're your friends, Mason, and you can run to us whenever you need to. You don't have to deal with all of this alone” Aimee held his hand and Mason nodded, but he knew Aimee had been busy lately because she was planning her own wedding with Henry, but she was so nice that she offered to be Mason's support since you left.
“I know, thank you” Mason tried to smile, but he knew he gave the saddest smile anyone had ever seen. “Tell them I apologized for ditching dinner.”
“Don’t worry, but please, take care of yourself.”
✦‎۟    ࣭   ⊹
You and Mason have been friends for years, you met in school and you had some friends in common. Everyone knew that Mason had been in love with you since you were a teenager, but you were never able to see him as anything more than a great friend. Not since the night you kissed for the first time.
You also knew that Mason was in love with you, but sometimes things don't happen the way we want, and even though he always treated you much better than your boyfriends, there was nothing you could do if you didn't like him back.
The night you were celebrating your twenty-fourth birthday in a place where all your friends were was when Mason decided to make the first move. 
He asked to deliver the gift he bought for you away from the others, and he gave you the most beautiful bracelet you had ever seen, it was gold and had your initial as a pendant, but it also had shells and stars, books, teacups and everything you liked the most. It was so delicate that you were moved when you realized how much Mason knew you.
When you hugged and thanked him that's when Mason kissed you, and that's okay, at that moment you didn't care and kissed him back. It was terrible to realize that that was the best kiss you had ever had, no one had ever kissed you so intensely, with so much love and passion.
Your mistake was going home with him after the party, ‘cause Mason was all over you the whole night and everyone could tell something was up, and you were also wrong for kissing him back every time, maybe giving Mason hope that it all meant something. 
At first it didn't really mean anything, but after weeks of having sex with him, even you who had an impenetrable heart found yourself attracted and in love with him. Mason made you smile, Mason treated you well and always put you first, and when you realized that, you also realized that you never put him first. And you never would.
You were working so hard at work to get the job the company was offering in Australia that it wouldn't be fair to him ‘cause you wouldn't be able to give him what he deserves if you had to move. 
Mason didn't accept staying away, so he said he didn't care if you didn't give a name to what you had. You weren't just friends but you weren't dating either, you knew his parents but not as his girlfriend, and Mason accompanied you everywhere just as... someone you were sleeping with. That was it.
For months it was like this. It was your house that Mason went to after games, it was you he called when he lost a game and wanted comfort from someone he loved or when they won and he wanted to celebrate with someone. You, always you, no one else. 
Mason loved you so much that he felt his heart jump with joy every time someone said your name or when he saw a message from you on his phone. Everyone thought you were his girlfriend, but Mason was too embarrassed to tell you that you weren't his girlfriend. Even he couldn't understand what was going on between you, so imagine telling others.
But your time was limited, and everyone knew it.
Almost a year later you received the proposal you had dreamed of for so long, and you were so happy that the idea of ​​leaving England wasn't scary at all, it was wonderful. You only told your parents at first, then Aimee ten days before you left. 
You didn't know how to tell him that you were moving, especially since you knew Mason wouldn't handle it very well. He was injured and had some problems with his Chelsea contract, and Mason was looking to you every day for comfort to feel good. 
He found out before you could tell him, and only because you left the plane ticket where he could see it, but it wasn't intentional, you just forgot to put it away. You still remember his face when Mason turned to you with the ticket in his hand, and you felt your heart skip a beat as you realized the argument was closer than you thought.
“Why do you have a plane ticket to Australia?” He asked quietly, but deep down you knew Mason knew what it meant. 
You couldn't lie to him anymore and you had to be honest, no matter how much it hurt.
“Cause I’m moving to Australia” Mason looked at the paper in his hand once more, probably wanting to see the date. The day you would leave.
“In ten days?” You just nodded, sighing when you saw Mason’s lip tremble. He put the paper back where he had found it and stared at you. “And when were you going to tell me? When you were getting on the plane?”
“I was planning on telling you right away, you weren't supposed to find out like this.” 
“It wouldn't hurt any less if you had told me sooner. How long have you known you were moving?”
“Almost two months” Mason agreed and you could see a piece of his heart break, then another and another. “C’mon, let's talk about it.”
You held out your hand to Mason, but he didn't take it and just stood there staring at you. You walked over to him and grabbed his hand, pulling him onto the couch with you. Mason sat on the couch and you knelt on the floor in front of him, resting your arms on his knee as he stared at you in so much pain that you felt your heart clench.
“Mase, you know how much I wanted this job, I worked really hard for this transfer and I finally got it” you explained to him, gently stroking his leg. “Don't be mad at me, but we knew I would have to move if I got the job.”
“It's not that I didn't want you to get the job, I just didn't think it would happen, it seemed so far away and you didn't tell me. I'm the last to know” he spoke, staring at his hands without looking at you, but you brought your hand to his chin and made him look at you. “And we both know that our relationship isn't going to work out.”
“We just don't date because you don't want to, if it were up to me you know you'd be my girlfriend” he spoke softly and you sighed, knowing it was true.
“Mase, I know you have a crush on me and yeah, I have a crush on you but-”
“Y/N, I don’t have a crush on you, I’m in love with you. I love you” he said and you felt your heart race ‘cause you never let Mason confess his feelings to you, and you knew that what he felt was much bigger. “How can you say that I have a crush on you when I've been doing everything for you for almost a year? It's not fair to me.”
“Well, I never asked you to do anything for me. Mason, I'm sorry, but I also never promised to offer you more than I already do” you got up from the floor and sat next to him, but Mason continued to stare at the floor in front of him.
“I love you and I've loved you since before I kissed you for the first time, how funny is that? And even after months of sleeping next to you, having sex, wanting to be good enough for you, you don't feel anything for me? How can you be so cold?” 
“I never wanted this relationship to go ahead ‘cause I always hoped to go to Australia. You've got Chelsea, you've got enough women to last you the rest of your life, live it, Mason.” 
“I don't want any other woman, it's always been you, Y/N. It's always been you, and you acting like it's nothing is what hurts me the most” a tear ran down Mason's face, but he quickly wiped it away, which was in vain because he couldn't stop other tears from falling, and before you knew it Mason was crying, sobbing. “Why are you doing this to me?”
You didn't know how to respond, so you stayed silent as you watched Mason cry. And the scene was sad, because there was nothing you could do to comfort him, what was done was done.
“I will wait for you to come back” he whispered, and then turned his face to look at you.
“Mason, that’s the point. I don’t know if I will ever come back. What if I like Australia? Or if I find someone there?” At that moment Mason felt like he was going to have a panic attack, and he was sure he was running out of air to breathe. “Go and live your life and forget about me, that's what I'm asking.”
“I can’t do this, Y/N. I can’t. I love you and I have loved you since I was eighteen, how can you ask me to forget you? How can you ask me to forget you after sharing so much of myself with you?” He stood up, putting his hands in his hair and breathing quickly.
“Don't forget me then, but I won't promise you that I'll come back.” 
“How can you pretend you don't feel anything for me? You can confess it, no one has to know.” 
“Because I don’t love you back.” You said it, and even Mason knew it was a lie, but it still hurt.
“You do. Don’t lie. If you don’t love me you shouldn’t act like you do” he said between sobs. “Don’t do this to me, please. I’m begging you to stay.”
“I already made my decision long ago, you're not going to change that Mason” you spoke with a lump in your throat, wanting to cry but refusing to cry in front of him and making things more difficult. 
“Just say you love me back” he begged, and Mason looked like the saddest man you'd ever seen.
“I'm not going to say anything ‘cause things can't get any harder than they already are. Everything it's over between us, Mason. In ten days I'm going to Australia and you're going to stay here and conquer the world. Without me.”
✦‎۟    ࣭   ⊹
Mason sighed as he entered his quiet London flat. It was strange to return to a place that had once been the place he considered home, but now London was no longer his home, and neither was Manchester. 
Because the place Mason considered home for a long time was in Australia, and now it was someone else's home.
Mason was going crazy and he was sure of it, but he swears that when he threw himself on the bed where you used to lie he smelled your perfume. That's where Mason broke down.
“Why did you do this to me, Y/N?” He spoke to himself, closing his eyes and feeling the tears run down his neck ‘cause he was lying down. A sob escaped his lips, it was the first time he had cried since the last time he saw you and Mason realized that he didn't know how to deal with the things that were happening in his life.
His contract with Chelsea ended and Mason joined Manchester United, but he was far from a happy man. Even with so many insults and threats, he didn't cry once, and every smile he gave when he went to Manchester United was fake. 
Mason was just surviving and doing whatever he was told to do, ‘cause all his thoughts were about you, from the moment he woke up in the morning until the time he lay down to sleep. 
And Mason even had the false idea that you were also thinking about him, but no, because now you have a boyfriend. Mason feels his own body heat up with anger when he thinks about another man touching you, kissing you in the same way he did. 
Mason's phone vibrated in his pocket, and he sighed because he didn't want to look at the message. And it was something that had become a habit for him, if no message was from you, why would he be excited to receive one?
But he still picked up his phone to check and was not at all surprised to see Aimee's message.
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Mason threw his phone on the mattress, looking around the room and seeing that you hadn't left anything there, not even a sock, and it was as if you had never entered that room. 
The worst part is that every time Mason saw Aimee he remembered that you two were always together too, because you were like twins, you were always together and did the same things. He also heard that you and Aimee had a falling out over your decision to move to Australia, but had talked things through before you traveled.
Y/N has a new boyfriend. Declan's voice crossed Mason's mind again, and that phrase had been haunting him ever since he heard it. 
Mason knew you loved him, he could see it in the touches, the looks and even the secrets you shared with each other. You were too stubborn to tell him that, and Mason knew it wasn't fair to ask you to give up on a dream, but he wished he could have heard at least once the three words he always wanted to hear from your lips. Just once was enough, because then Mason would know that all those months together had been worth it.
Mason can't understand how you don't miss him, someone you shared everything with until months ago and now he's a stranger. How can you not miss him when Mason has been missing you even when he's sleeping? Don't you miss him when you're taking a shower with your new boyfriend? The thought makes Mason want to vomit.
But now you have a boyfriend and it's him you say I love you to, it's him who asks to hold your hand, it's him who admires you sleeping.
Mason didn't know it was possible to feel so jealous of someone while having a broken heart. It's been five months since you left and Mason feels like his heart hurts more every day, and he doesn't know how long it will take for him to heal.
He needs to forget you ‘cause you've definitely already forgotten him, but he doesn't know how. Mason discovered that he needs you the same way he needs air to breathe. 
But you moved on and Mason moved on with a broken heart, in a helpless state, and even though he'll never open up to anyone the way he did to you, at some point that pain has to pass.
✦‎۟    ࣭   ⊹ 3 months later ✦‎۟    ࣭   ⊹
“No, I didn't forget the dress, mum” you said in a phone call walking through the London airport while talking to your mother. She was traveling to Ireland and wouldn't be back until next week, so you were alone for the next few days. “Yes, I will wait for you to come back, you know I will stay in England for twenty days. I know. Yes, I will. Bye, I love you too.”
You almost groaned at the amount of people walking around London airport, and it would be much harder to find Aimee than you thought. After eight months, you are back in the rainy, cold weather of England, and you missed it so much that you felt like you could cry at any moment.
Aimee and Henry's wedding is in three days, and that's why you've brought yourself back to England, ‘cause you wouldn't miss it for anything. 
Australia is a great place to live and you love your job there, you've made some friends but... Australia is not London. 
“Y/N!” You heard Aimee's voice before you even saw her, and your eyes filled with tears when you saw her waiting for you at the airport exit. It was like a scene from a movie, but you ran and hugged each other while you cried.
“How can you go and live far away from me? My God, I hate you, I was dying missing you” she cried, and you didn't let go of each other for long minutes. “Did you miss me?”
“Of course I missed you” you wiped the tear from your tear-streaked face, and it was impossible to stop smiling when you knew you were home again. “You look so beautiful. How is everyone? Are you looking forward to the wedding?”
“I can't believe I'm without my best friend when I get married, let's start there. And yes, everyone is fine, everyone is excited to see you again” you and Aimee walked towards the airport exit carrying your bags, and the reception you received was heavy rain at the exit. Nothing better than being in England.
✦‎۟    ࣭   ⊹
“I heard you have a boyfriend in Australia” Henry said with a smirk on his mouth, and you blushed. “Why didn't you bring him?”
“First, we’re just having sex, he’s not my boyfriend. Second, why would I bring him to your wedding?” You put a piece of pizza in your mouth, wanting to ignore what they were talking about. 
Josh wasn't really your boyfriend, you worked together and enjoyed being together, but he was in love with someone else and you knew it, so you never wanted anything from him. Your heart was only half in Australia too.
“And what was that photo you posted on Instagram months ago?” Aimee asked and you looked angry at her. They were nosy and wouldn't change.
“He mentioned me in his stories, what could I do?” You shrugged it off, because it really wasn't that big of a deal.
“Everyone saw it” Henry said, and he emphasized when he said “everyone”. 
You looked at him and thought of Mason. In fact, Mason hadn't left your thoughts for months, he was what you thought about twenty-four hours a day. You looked at the table without looking at the two of them, and even though you didn't want to show that you cared about Mason, they were able to read your face like a book.
“You know he's coming to the wedding, right?” Aimee asked and you agreed. “It's the international break and he has a few days off, he'll be in London during those days.” 
“I know.” 
You were nervous about seeing Mason again after so long, even more because you left without saying what he wanted so bad to hear. 
It wasn't fair to confess your feelings when you were moving to the other side of the world. It wasn't fair to him and it wasn't fair to you, that's why even after so many months with him and knowing how much he loved you, you refused to tell him how you felt about him, because you knew it would be worse.
Deep down you know that if he brings someone else it will hurt, but you can't feel hurt when it was your decision. Maybe, just maybe, if Mason is over you it means that going back to Australia and moving on is the best option, even if you feel incomplete. 
God, it's so hard to love someone and want to do the right thing.
✦‎۟    ࣭   ⊹
“Should I wear red lingerie?” Aimee asked and you looked at her with raised eyebrows. “Don’t look at me like that.”
“You’re not supposed to have sex until the wedding” you looked at yourself in the mirror, admiring your bare legs in the long-sleeved black dress. “Do I look hotter or is it just me?”
“You are hot, baby.” 
You and Aimee are getting ready for her bachelorette party at a club in London, one you used to go to as teenagers. She's invited her bridesmaids and other friends, and it's sure to be an amazing night.
You can't believe your best friend is getting married. 
The club was full of people, the music was lively and soon you found the place reserved for Aimee's bachelor party, because there were balloons, glitter, feathers and lots of pink and white.
In Australia you made some friends but it was different being with the people you grew up with, who know you inside out and like the same things as you. 
Aimee cried every fifteen minutes when she remembered that she was going to marry the love of her life in two days, and in the end someone always cried with emotion with her. She and Henry loved each other since they met, it was incredible to see how well they worked together, how much Henry treated her well or did everything for her.
You always wanted someone like that by your side.
As you watched Aimee talk to Kylie, probably about the wedding or about Henry, you remembered that you had a person like that for you.
And you ruined everything. 
You felt your heart skip a beat when you thought about Mason again, and even after the drinks you had already had, you felt sad when you remembered that besides pushing Mason out of your life, you were also alone.
A few months ago, before you moved, you asked your mother how she knew that Richard, your stepfather, was the right person for her. She and your father had a bad marriage and she was not happy, and you and your sister suffered the consequences of that failed marriage, but with Richard she was glowing with happiness.
“It needs to be someone special.” 
Someone who doesn't argue with you, someone who celebrates the little things, someone who makes you happy most days. Happiness isn't eternal but it's moments, and if someone makes you sad more than happy, there's something wrong.
You had someone special, and you realized it when you stared into that empty, silent apartment in Australia, far from everyone you love. 
You were lost in thought, but you came back to reality when Aimee screamed and pointed behind you, and then you heard male laughter.
A laugh that you could recognize anywhere.
You smelled Mason's scent before you even saw him and your legs went weak as you realized what was happening. 
“Hi boys” Aime squealed, cheering as Henry walked up to her and kissed her in front of everyone, causing the girls to clap. You’d have smiled if you weren't feeling Mason's gaze on your back.
It was ridiculous that you were afraid to turn around and look at him, but you were scared to death. You turned so you could look at his face, even if it was the only time that night. You couldn't help yourself ‘cause you needed to look at him, so you turned around.
You met his eyes before you could react, because you knew he was watching you, his gaze heavy on your back. His face was serious now, and the worst thing was that you noticed that his eyes no longer had that sparkle they had when you were together.
You were the one most to blame for this.
You couldn't look away from him but you couldn't say anything either, you were just taken out of your thoughts and had to look to your side when Declan shouted when he saw you. You smiled at your friend, happy to see him, because Declan was your family too.
“Hello, D” you hugged him, closing your eyes and feeling emotional. You don't know how you managed to go so many months without seeing them. “How are you?”
“I'm fine. And you? Did you realize that England is your place?” Lauren walked over and Declan wrapped his arms around her neck. “This woman has been talking about you every day since you moved in, I couldn't take it anymore.”
“That’s not true” she complained and rolled her eyes smiling, because Lauren was also one of your best friends. “By the way, we missed you, Y/N.”
Mason was standing in the same spot and you finally turned to him after talking to Declan, and you almost rolled your eyes when you saw them all move away purposefully. It was like seeing a ray of sunshine after a storm, and you felt like nothing else mattered when Mason had his eyes on you like you were the only woman in the room.
It was ridiculous to try to explain how handsome Mason looked. He was wearing black pants, a black men's tank top, a white wool coat and Converse. 
“Hello Mason” you said, and even with the loud music he would hear, because it seemed like there were only the two of you there. 
Mason scratched his throat before answering you, he seemed as nervous as you were, and deep down, you were glad for that.
“Hello” he mumbled but you could read his lips. Oh, how you missed his voice.
You took a step towards him, ignoring that everyone was looking at you, and you were lost with the Mason colony around you. 
“You good?” You asked and Mason just nodded, but then Reece appeared hugging Mason by the neck and breaking the bad mood between you. He was drunk and you noticed, he was laughing at nothing and holding onto Mason. You smiled, because you had missed him too. 
“Oh, did you remember you have friends?” You rolled your eyes and hugged him, feeling Mason's gaze on you. “I missed you, Y/N.” 
“I missed you so much, Reece. There is no one like you in Australia.”
“Mason missed you too, but he doesn't tell anyone” Reece whispered in your ear and you smiled, not looking at Mason so he wouldn't realize his friend was talking about him, but before you could do anything, Mason left and went to Declan and Lauren. “He's been a complicated boy these past few months.”
“I fucked up with him and he hates me now” and it was true, Mason probably started to despise you after you were such a bitch to him. 
“He loves you, but he is so stubborn ‘cause you hurt him.”
Mason was now on his back, and God, you just wanted to hug him and feel safe again as you felt his arms around you. 
Mason ignored you perfectly for a long time, you couldn't get close to him and you didn't know how either. Was it fair to want to talk to him and then leave again? Maybe Mason is just protecting his own heart because you already broke his heart once, it's not right to break his heart again after so many months.
Henry said that he had decided to come to the same club as Aimee ‘cause he wanted to have fun with her and the boys, and you smiled at his confession. Aimee knew he was coming and hadn't told you anything, who thought it would be a girls' night. 
“Where's your boyfriend, Y/N?” Declan asked hours later when you were both sitting on the beanbags, the music lower now and you could talk without shouting. 
Before you could answer Mason stood up, saying he was going to get a drink from the bar even though the table was full of drink options. You looked at him disappointed ‘cause you wanted to be able to talk to him or tell him that you don't have a boyfriend, and he preferred to leave than hear you talk about another man.
“Our boy Mason is jealous” Reece laughed and you decided to go after Mason, without answering Declan's question.
It wasn't hard to find Mason, he sat in one of the chairs at the counter and had his back to you, so you quickly sat next to him. He noticed when you sat down next to him but didn't say anything, just continued to stare at the untouched drink in front of him. 
“Running away is not something you usually do” you said and Mason finally looked at you, raising his eyebrows.
“I used to do a lot of things that I don't do anymore” not that you deserve Mason being rude, but it's clear that Mason still resents you. 
“And that's why I know things between us aren't resolved yet” you saw Mason sigh, and you wanted so much to be able to hug him, but if you asked him to he would probably run away from you.
“Yes, everything is resolved. We resolved it when you decided to leave” Mason held the glass and threatened to get up, but you grabbed his arm and stopped him from leaving. “Please let me go, don't make me suffer again.”
“I don't want to make you suffer, Mason, I just want to talk to you for a while” you practically begged him, but Mason was still trying to pull away from you. 
“Talk about what? About how my life went to shit after you left? That I was here suffering while you started a new life in fucking Australia? You wanna know about that to laugh at me because I was an idiot?” 
“Don’t do that, please” you whispered, because Mason had no idea how much you suffered away from him. You never told him, of course he doesn't know.
“I gave my all to you, Y/N, and that's the worst ‘cause I still love you so much that my heart feels like it's going to jump out of my chest” he said looking at you and you felt your own hands tremble, Mason always had that effect on you. “You can't just leave and come back wanting to talk to me like everything is fine, because it's not.”
“Please don't act like it wasn't difficult for me too” You felt your eyes water and Mason shook his head in disbelief.
Because it was really difficult. You spent weeks thinking if you did the right thing, if leaving everything in England was the best option, if ending the best thing that had ever happened to you was the best choice, and there was only one answer in your head. 
“Yeah, I know. By the way, where's your boyfriend? Is that why your life was hard in Australia?” Mason asked and drank all the last drink he had ordered. “I went to hell after you moved out, and while you were there enjoying your new life I stayed here because I was dropped off without notice. Don't feel rejected because I don't want you to fuck me again, you rejected me first.”
Mason turned his back and left the club without saying goodbye, leaving you alone with the guilt and regret consuming you.
✦‎۟    ࣭   ⊹
You took at least five deep breaths before ringing the bell on the white door in front of you. You also don't know how or why, but your fingerprint was still registered at the entrance to the building where Mason has a flat in London, and after convincing Aimee to tell you if he was there, she finally said yes. 
You regretted it the second you rang the doorbell, especially since it was only seven thirty in the morning, but you had been up all night and would go crazy if you didn't go there. You raised your finger to press the doorbell again but heard a grumble coming from the other side of the door, and you hated yourself ‘cause you probably woke Mason up.
He opened the door wearing only underwear and a crumpled face. You swallowed hard.
“Y/n?” He spoke in a hoarse voice, and before he could tell you to leave, you entered the apartment cause you needed to talk to him. “Is there something wrong?”
Mason closed the door and looked at you, waiting for you to answer. You took another deep breath, but it still wasn't enough to make you less nervous.
“It was difficult for me too, it still is” Mason raised his eyebrow. “Don't think that just because I never said what you wanted to hear, I didn't feel anything, I just knew that our time together had an end date and there was nothing to change that.”
“Look, I don’t want to-”
“You’re gonna listen to me, Mason” you stopped Mason from speaking, and then he kept looking at you. “It's not fair for you to say that I didn't suffer, because no one was in Australia with me to know that, you don't know how many nights I cried on the phone with Aimee wanting to give up everything to go back to England and to you.”
“And I don't care if you think I don't care about you, but know that you were one of the best things that ever happened to me and you can't treat me badly like you treated me yesterday, it's not fair to me either” you stopped for two seconds to breathe, and Mason looked at you without saying anything. “You know how much I always wanted this job, Mason, and you can't imagine how much it hurts me to realize that I'm gone and I was much happier here than I am in Australia.”
A tear fell from your face and you wiped it away, Mason brought his hands to his face and sighed, taking a step towards you, but you stopped him from getting closer. 
“I'm not here to ask you for forgiveness, I just needed to say a few things.”
And you were gone as quickly as you arrived, leaving Mason and his own thoughts alone.
✦‎۟    ࣭   ⊹
Mason felt like shit for the rest of the day, mainly ‘cause he knew he treated you badly. The problem is that Mason gave you everything, and when he least expected it, you broke his heart into pieces.
Those were terrible months, Mason was training, he was irritated with everyone and especially on the field, which caused him to be sent off and made the coach discuss with him. Mason spent months without sleeping through the night, got drunk at every party he went to, and even spent weeks without talking to his own family so no one would ask about you.
Aimee and Henry's wedding is tomorrow and Mason would rather be anywhere but there. He can't even imagine what it's going to be like to see you so beautiful and in a relationship with another man who's oceans away, but Mason knows it's going to be very difficult.
“Why do you have such a shitty face?” Declan asked as he took the beer Mason handed him, and Mason had been quiet for minutes while they were watching an old football match that was on the television.
“Y/N came here this morning” Mason spoke softly and threw himself onto the couch, sighing as he remembered the words you spoke to him. “I feel like shit again, bro.”
“You've been feeling like shit for eight months, my friend” Mason rolled his eyes, but he couldn't disagree. You came back and turned over all the feelings that Mason thought were gone, when in fact they were stored and emerged to squeeze his heart again.
And he knows that in a few days you'll be gone again, he knows it'll be shit again and it'll be another eight months to forget everything. 
“I feel like we haven't ended things between us yet, but I'm not ready for that. Man, I love her so much, she's gonna kill me again” Mason confessed, and for months he hadn't talked about you to anyone but Aimee. His mother would always ask, but Mason wouldn't talk about it to her, or anyone else. 
The funniest thing was that even the fans said that there was something wrong with Mason, but he always said that everything was fine while putting that sadness deeper in his heart. 
“Don't let her bring you down again then” Declan said it like it was obvious, but it was easy for him because he had Lauren, Jude and he was happy.
“It's not that simple.” 
“Make it so.”
✦‎۟    ࣭   ⊹
“You look so pretty, I'm gonna ruin my makeup from crying this much” you said as you shook your eyes to stop crying as you looked at Aimee in the wedding dress. “I have never seen such a beautiful bride.”
“Please, stop, you're making me emotional and I can't cry” Aimee said looking at the ceiling, and then you approached and hugged her, saying once again how beautiful she was. “You look beautiful too, that color looks wonderful on you.”
“I know, I really look good in blue” you joked, and she laughed as the two of you checked to make sure everything was ready for Aimee to get married. “Let's check if we have everything.”
Aimee agreed and went to the window to see the place where the ceremony was taking place. All the guests were already there and in a few minutes it would be her turn. The day was beautiful, and everything was perfect. You walked over to the window, looking down at where the guests were sitting, and even without meaning to, your gaze quickly found the person who had been your thoughts for months.
Mason was laughing with Declan and Reece, and he had no way of seeing you there but you could even see his eyes closing as he laughed. He looked so happy, he didn't look like the same sad-hearted man you'd met two days ago, and for a moment you felt good that Mason was smiling.
“Did you talk to him?” Aimee asked, and you nodded.
“He hates me” you shrugged because it's the truth. 
“He doesn't hate you, don't be silly, Mason loves you so much, he just didn't know how to deal with you leaving.” 
“It doesn't matter now” you wiped away a tear and turned to Aimee, smiling at her. “So, something old?”
“My grandmother's earrings” Aimee pointed to her grandmother's gold earrings, and they really were beautiful. 
“Something new?”
“My dress.”
“Something borrowed?”
“My shoe.”
“Something blue?”
“The sexy lingerie I'm wearing underneath.”
“Oh, spare me the details” you rolled your eyes, and then smiled nervously ‘cause the time was finally coming. Aimee's father came in to call her and you finally left, but not before wishing her good luck.
You went down to where the ceremony would be and greeted a few people, some surprised and happy that you were back in England. Lauren waved and called you over, so you quickly walked over to her, sighing because Mason was there too. You felt your hands sweat as you walked down the hallway, as well as your heart racing.
“Hey guys” you said and almost groaned when you saw that the empty seat Lauren had saved was next to Mason. “Is this place for me?”
Mason looked at you and you almost forgot how to walk, because he had this effect on you, making you nervous with just a look. He was so handsome, he looked like he was ready for his own wedding. You quickly looked away from him, but Mason didn't stop looking at you for a second.
“Sure” Lauren smiled and you wanted to kill her. You sat next to Mason, controlling your breathing, and even so he didn't stop looking at you, leaving you blushing. 
“You're drooling man, control yourself” Reece spoke softly to Mason, and Mason cleared his throat and shifted in his chair, making RJ laugh. You were talking to Lauren because you had nothing to talk about with Mason, but his cologne was all around you, making you drunk by the smell of the perfume he had been using for years. 
Everyone cried or got emotional when Aimee walked in, especially Henry who cried like a baby when he saw her walking towards him. You and Lauren were almost sobbing throughout the ceremony, and Declan was already laughing at you. 
When they said their vows was when you and Mason looked at each other, and a racing heart because of his deep gaze on you made you come closer and hold his arm, leaning your face against his suit in a loving way, and it was the closest to love you had come in eight months.
Because Mason means love to you, and not even so many months apart have changed that.
✦‎۟    ࣭   ⊹
“I'm nervous, I forgot the speech paper” you whispered to Anthony, Aimee's brother, and he shrugged with a laugh.
“Not my problem, Y/N, I've already said my speech.”
“Okay, I can do this” you took a deep breath and he helped you climb onto a chair. Everyone had already eaten dinner and everything was so spectacular, it would be a wonderful night for your best friend. 
You trembled as you saw all the eyes on you, but you held the microphone and smiled to pretend you weren't nervous.
“I wrote some words on a piece of paper but I forgot the paper at home, so I'll have to improvise, I hope the bride and groom don't mind” everyone laughed at what you said and you felt your cheeks heat up, speaking in public wasn't very easy, speaking at a wedding was even worse. “I remember the day Aimee came to me when we were in college a few years ago and said she met the coolest guy in the world and I said "impossible, no man is the coolest in the world" and yet she said he was.” 
“In fact Henry, you proved that you are really a very nice guy and Aimee was right, ‘cause she shines when she looks at you, just like we can see in your eyes how much you love her. I could tell you all about some of the embarrassing moments of the two of them, but I prefer to talk about love cause I think everyone would like to hear it.”
“I once asked my mom how she knew my stepdad was the right person for her and she told me it had to be someone special. It's a person who doesn't mind being silent by your side because they know that everything is fine even without talking. It's someone who makes you happy just by remembering that person for a minute of the day or the whole day. It's someone who doesn't judge you, doesn't embarrass you or devalue what you feel.”
Even without wanting to, your gaze fell on Mason, and he was staring at you on top of that chair with a microphone in your hand. He was paying attention to every word that came out of your mouth and you almost lost focus because it hurt so much knowing that you would never have him in your life again.
“You two are each other's special person. I'm sure everyone here has someone special, and it's worth dropping everything when you know you have someone by your side to love you and go through everything with you, because that's how love works.”
Your eyes filled with tears and you had to stop looking at Mason ‘cause even he got teary-eyed listening to you. You looked at Aimee and she was crying and trying not to ruin her makeup as she ran her hand over her eyes, and Henry next to her smiled as he wiped a tear that ran down his face too. 
You also had to wipe away the tear that ran down your face. 
“Here's to Aimee and Henry. May their lives be wonderful” you raised your glass of champagne and everyone raised their own, toasting to their new life together. Anthony helped you down from the chair and you quickly went to your seat, but in reality you wanted to go out and cry.
Mason didn't take his eyes off you and you started to feel suffocated, especially since he hadn't even wanted to come near you for two days and he still left you in pieces when you tried to talk to him.
“I've never heard such beautiful words, Y/N” Aimee Aimee hugged you and you smiled, still with tears in your eyes. “Thank you for coming, thank you for being my best friend. I love you so much.”
“I love you too, Aim.”
You didn't even make it to the table because everyone stopped to congratulate you on your beautiful speech, and when you finally got there, Mason was no longer there. 
“Where is he?” you asked RJ, and he said that Mason had gone to the bathroom, before anyone could stop you again, you went to look for him. 
You waited a few minutes before Mason came out of the bathroom and saying that he was surprised to see you waiting for him was nothing new. You stared at each other for a few seconds before another guy came out of the bathroom and you and Mason had to break contact, so you pulled him by the hand and walked down the hallway until you found another door. 
Mason didn't say anything as he followed you, and when you saw that it was a warehouse and there was no one there, you went in and pulled Mason with you, pushing him against the wall.
“I love you” you whispered and Mason's eyes widened, shocked because he finally heard the three words he wanted to hear so much. Maybe it was too late and you would never be together again, but at least you got your feelings off your chest and told Mason. “Oh my God, I love you.”
“What?” Mason put his hand over his mouth, not wanting to show his smile, but he was smiling so much it was impossible to hide it. “I didn't hear.”
“I love you, I love you, I love-.” You had never felt such relief when Mason reached out and pulled your mouth against his.
Kissing Mason is like Christmas morning, or the morning of your birthday or the birthday of someone you love. Feeling Mason's arms is like feeling like nothing in the world can bring you down ‘cause you have someone protecting you from everything and ready to fight with you. 
“Does he ask to hold your hand?” Mason whispered and then kissed you again, and you couldn't respond because you were busy feeling the wonderful taste of his lips. “I bet he doesn't kiss you like I do.” 
Mason held you with both hands on your neck, and then he brought his hand to the back of your neck and grabbed your hair, making you pull your mouth away from his and look at him.
Why did he have to be so handsome?
And that stupid blond hair, that made you want to take his clothes off completely.
The look on your face was probably desperate with desire ‘cause Mason smiled and ran his tongue over his lips, staring at your mouth. 
“No” you confessed, feeling Mason smile. “You're the only one who knows how to touch me and how to love me.”
Mason smiled when you responded and pulled your mouth against his once more, wrapping his arm around your neck and holding you against him. It was okay, you didn't want to be anywhere else but in his arms.
Mason pushed you against the wall and you gasped ‘cause his body against yours gave you protection. How did you manage to go so many months without him? You only knew one home, and that was next to Mason. 
You'll never be able to live in Australia alone again. 
✦‎۟    ࣭   ⊹
“Are you ready for a wedding?” Mason asked as he kissed your skin, and he whispered it because of the blue panties you were wearing. You weren't discreet when you left the wedding together and you heard your friends cheering when they saw you get into Mason's car, and you hadn't been able to stop smiling for hours, ever since he kissed you for the first time. “Something blue…”
You sighed as Mason showered you with kisses, you were numb with his body on top of yours. You didn't know how much you had missed this, these moments with Mason where you completed each other like soulmates, because only he knew how to drive you crazy. 
“There is still something borrowed and something old missing” you said, closing your eyes and bringing your hands to Mason's hair. His breath was on your groin and you almost moaned, because you were tired but you needed Mason so much that you felt like you were going to explode. “But we can think about it.”
“I don't want you to think about anything but me right now, love.”
✦‎۟    ࣭   ⊹
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It's been a month since you got back to Australia and you and Mason have been trying to keep things at arm's length, but it's really hard because when you're waking up, Mason's going to sleep or when you're working, Mason's waking up.
But ever since you set foot in England again, you knew that this was where you belonged, and when you returned to Australia, you didn't think twice when you asked for a transfer again.
Your boss agreed and said that you could get the same position in England, but you would have to wait a few weeks for all the paperwork to be ready. No one knew you were  coming back because it would be a surprise to both Mason and his mom or his friends.
And at that moment you were at Manchester airport ‘cause the first place you were going was home. Mason. You don't even know if he's at home, if he's training, he might even be with someone else there and you feel like you might faint when you think about it.
It's already getting dark and cold, but you’re at an Uber with the only two suitcases of stuff you'd taken to Australia with you. The car dropped you off in front of Mason's house and if you weren't so nervous you would roll your eyes at the size of the place. 
You rang the bell at the gate and after a few rings you heard a bark and raised your eyebrows, because you didn't know Mason had a dog. 
“Hello?” His voice was hoarse and you almost cried, you were missing him so much it was making you sick.
“Hi, were you the one who asked for a girlfriend?” you were smiling and everything was silent for a few seconds until you saw the door to the house open quickly. Mason ran barefoot on the wet grass and you couldn't stop the tears from falling down your face. 
“What the fuck? Are you insane?” Mason pulled you against him, lifting you off the ground as you jumped against him and wrapping your legs around his hips. “I thought you were in Australia, my god I missed you so much. I love you, I love you” Mason whispered and squeezed you, without letting you go. 
“I love you, I'll never leave, never again” you cried as you hugged him, trying to hold onto Mason everywhere so he would never let you go again. “You are my home Mason, I'm sorry for everything, I know I don't deserve it but I just want to be with you forever.”
“I can't believe you're back, I'm dreaming” Mason finally let go of you and put you on the ground, then he pulled you in and kissed you after more than a month away from your lips. “You're still going to kill me by doing these things to me.”
Mason pulled your bags and pointed to the entrance of the house, and you walked as he pulled your things. You stopped when a puppy ran out of the house towards you, and you bent down to pet it.
“Oh my God, we already have a child?” you joked and Mason just smiled and crouched down to be close to you. The puppy jumped on your legs and then ran to Mason, who petted his fur.
“This is Ace, he’s a boy and he has been my new company since you left me alone.”
“Ahh, poor boy, he had to put up with you crying for long weeks.”
“His mommy is home now” you stood up and looked at Mason, kissing him once more. 
“My home is wherever you are.”
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There's not much Barty Crouch Jr content out there. If you don't mind writing about him, can I make a request? After escaping Azkaban, he serves his Lord to the best of his ability, but there is someone from his past that he still can't get out of his mind. A Slytherin and from a family of followers of the Dark Lord. They had a relationship during their youth. After many years, he finds her again. He always had a soft spot for her. But the reader (like Snape, a sort of spy) is secretly thinking against the Dark Lord and stays away from these things as much as possible, but she is definitely in danger. Things are complicated, but the strong attraction and longing between them cannot be ignored...
The Boy I Knew
Barty Crouch Jr. x Black!Fem!Reader
Cw; Y/N, obsessions, one sided love(Barty pining), Barty being unhinged. Reader is morally grey, Remus Lupin onesided love (Rem pining), sexual themes and scenes, mentions of murder}} Please tell me if I missed anything!
AN- this fanfic is now well over what it should have been. I am posting a fraction of the proofread bits as of now, as I realize this is probably not at all what you wanted and if so I am SO sorry. If you want more I have a pouch that just needs to be beta read
Wc-5670
Taglist: @defnotfrey @au-ghosttype
{. 1972 - Barty’s Year 1 .}
Bartemius Crouch Junior couldn't have been older than eleven when he first met {Y/N} Walburga Black.  A cool upperclassman, if only by a year. 
Bartemius, at that ripe age, knew only a handful of things, and two of those was how badly he wanted to be seen and known. He wanted to be seen for who he was, and known for what he would do. That's likely what drew him to you. 
At only twelve, you and your brother had made a name for yourselves, in much different ways. Your brother was popular, for his quick tongue and clever quips, his innate ability to get under anyone's skin and stay there. Those traits could be forgiven, and they always were, for his big heart and intense sense of moral. 
You, however, were known for harboring a few very non Black traits, like your intense empathy and your crazed thirst for knowledge. Even as a Slytherin, your loyalty and curiosity rivaled the students around you tenfold. Your bravery knew no bounds, even with all the wrongs you had been done, you were forgiving and understanding. You were seen by everyone, you were known for everything.
As he got older, he wondered where that forgiveness went. You grew cold.
When he was innocent, when he had done no wrongs, you cradled him in your hands like he was a gift. You looked at him with eyes you shared with everyone, so much care and patience, so much understanding and kindness. So if those eyes were shared with the masses, he struggled, but was determined, to keep them focused on himself at any chance given.
It was obvious to anyone who saw the two interact. Barty wanted to be witnessed by you. The halls filled with the judgeful and teasing murmurs when he found you in the halls.
“There goes {Y/N}’s prodigy.”
“Barty is off to find his guru.”
“That boy will never learn.”
“How annoying.”
Barty had never been ashamed of his declarations for praise. He knew most of the voices were bitter with jealousy. He would be jealous too. You were both so young, and yet even some older students looked to you like you were twice your age, yet every Friday when the tests were returned, you sat in the courtyard and waited for him. Your personal underclassman.
You would meet in the yard and he would brandish his flawless marks, you would praise his abilities in absolute pride. He had never had someone prideful of him before. Everyone knew him to be a mother’s boy, but he would challenge any of those claims. He was a {Y/N}’s boy, he'd tell them, no shame as students snickered and made their fun of him. He was never afraid of how much he liked you. How much he admired and respected you.
He would turn from the RavenClaw table and look to you after his announcements everytime, you would be eating with Lily Evans and the other girls of her group, but your eyes would be on him. You would give him a soft smile that drove him mad. He would return it with his own, the smile he would save for you. Just you.
When he was only eleven and you were twelve, everything was perfect for him. You focused your attention on studies, your friends, and of course, Barty. That's how it stayed for years.
He would reminisce in his cell, running his dulled nail along the jagged stone walls, carving intents of every minute that passed. Remembering all of the things he regretted most in his life. Losing your trust was where his spiral began. He was a foolish kid.
{. 1974 Barty’s Year 3 .}
“It's getting embarrassing.”
Barty was eating lunch with one of the many friends he had made during his years at Hogwarts, Evan Rosier. He was once again bringing the conversation back to you, as he had been for the past few days.
“You trail after her like a loyal dog. Has she even given you a hint that she may return your feelings?” 
“What feelings?”
Evan and you did not get along. You never had. When he first found himself growing closer to him, you voiced your distaste for Evan the very next day. Barty always trusted your judgment, he obeyed you without much of a fight in most cases. This was not one of those cases.
He figured you to be biased, your brother thought him to be a Death Eater and you despised them. Something he could never understand, you were a pureblood, a Black, you were a powerful witch, and you would never have to worry about falling for a half blood or muggleborn, or Merlin forbid, a muggle. You were smarter than that. He always figured. You wouldn't taint your legacy.
Not like your useless brother, who he could see even now, describing his entanglements with witches and wizards of any kind, to the other Marauders.
As the years went on, you and Barty’s meetings became scarcer and scarcer, they went from Fridays to every second Friday, finally, you now only met every last Friday of the month. Still, Barty clung to you with a desperation he never would give anyone else.
Recently, you had gotten into a fight. One where you expressed your worry for what could possibly happen to him if he got involved with the wrong crowd. Barty, admittedly, didn't respond in kind. He was furious with you. You questioned his company but pushed away from him, you questioned his morals and his standing on the war. He told you there was no war to him, there was no fight.
At the end of the day, he would be standing by you.
The answer seemed to distress you further. It turned into a match of shouts and desperate pleas of compliance. It caused a scene, people watched as you defended your standing on your side of the war, this fight you were having with yourself he assumed. There was no war. This was a power struggle.
Evan’s scoff snapped him out of his thoughts and he looked up from his plate to his eyes. 
“Barty, half the school knows you've been in love with her since first year.” He hissed and Barty frowned. Would he call it love? He didn't think about it long before he had his answer. Love wasn't something he looked for, but he found it constantly. From the love he shared with Pandora, to the love he shared with Regulus, even the love he was nurturing with the brutish Evan.
No love in his body burned hotter then his love for you. 
He never thought about it because he never had to. Why would he? He knew you loved him too. He knew what you two shared was never anything that could be challenged. He was your prodigy. He was your prodigy. He didn't care for much, as long as he was yours. 
Evan snapped his fingers in his face and drew his attention back to him. He gave a slick smirk and wet his lips. “Come on, Barty, she's just a girl. You're wasting talent. Talent that could be used for someone who actually appreciates you.”
“She does appreciate me.” Barty challenged immediately, before Evan smirked and gestured to the Gryffindor table. “Does she?”
Barty turned just in time to see you, he never had to stare at a crowd too long to find you. 
You were sitting with your brother and his friends, side by side with Remus, sitting far too close for comfort. He was whispering something in your ear, making you giggle. Turning to look at him with the truest smile he's ever seen you make. Flashing your beautifully uneven teeth, your cheeks dimpling and eyes seeming to sparkle. Your eyes met Lupin’s and he took in your expression like he could die in that moment. 
Barty had never seen you smile like that before. He had never seen you look that way before. You had never looked at him like that before.
He hadn't even noticed as he began to bend the fork in his hand, fist tightening as he watched as Remus lean in and stole a kiss against your cheek. You gave a bigger laugh at this. Moving in to kiss his lips carefully. 
The wonderful moment you were having was interrupted when a loud snap sounded threw the cafeteria. Your eyes snapped over to the RavenClaw table, as did a lot of your peers. Barty had snapped a fork in half with his thumb alone. Before a professor could scold him, he got up from his seat and stomped out of the grand hall, and your eyes followed them.
You muttered a quick apology to Remus and he nodded in understanding as you scrambled to your feet to follow after him. 
He wished he could take every word he called you in that hall back now. He wished he had been smart enough to know that loving you with you in his life would of been far less torture then loving a girl who hated your guts. 
“You blood trader!”
“This! This is what I meant, Bartemius! My Barty would never-”
“You don't have a clue about me, you insolent heartbreaker! What of us, Black?”
“Us? What Us, Barty?”
That night he realized that no matter how genuine his love was for you, how deeply it ran, those times spent alone meant far more to him then it ever meant to you. You did stuff like that for everyone. 
He wasn't entitled to your love. Running his nail down until it was blunted against the wall. Azkaban could no longer do more harm then it already had.
{. 1974 Barty’s Year 4 .}
An entire school year. You and Barty didn't speak for an entire school year.
He kept his tabs on you, of course, because no matter what you said to him that day, you were still his person. Knowing how ignorant and how dangerously minded you could be, he took it upon himself to look over you. You may have been older, you may have sworn him, at one time, your loyalty and protection. But now, he had power of his own. He would repay you. He would repay and reeducate you, given the chance. With all the training him, Evan, Muliciber, Avery, even Snape had done? By Merlin’s beard he could do anything.
He had the mind to back that up, but he kept his power under wraps. You were always frightened by what you didn't understand, the last thing he wanted was for you to fear him. He wanted everyone to know him as fear, not you.
Never you.
When the school year started Barty noticed the shift instantly. He knew you like the back of his hand, far more than he let on most days, but it didn't take a genius to see that {Y/N} Black sitting with Regulus Black at the Slytherin table was odd. 
He soon learned of what happened between Sirius and his family, a right disgrace. Then to learn Sirius scorned you from his life for choosing to stay with Regulus, that was probably what started Barty’s absolute disdain for your brother. You had gone through training per Regulus. Saying before Sirius left he let it slip about you and Remus, trying to entice you to leave with him. You refused and your mother lost it. Walburga was a stain on this earth for what she had done. Even then…
It was all for the better, as he saw it. You don't need the impressions of Sirius Black, Lily Evans, Mary Macdonald, Remus Lupin, or any others that pour their venom into a perfect witch as yourself. He would make sure it stayed that way, even if it hurt you. However, he couldn't lie.
You always looked your best when you knew your worth. 
It wasn't just your routine that changed, you became cold to your old friends, dropping the Muggle borns and staying weary of the half bloods. You started to associate mainly with more influential Purebloods.
That meant him. 
He knew his father was good for something.
“Crouch? Would you like to accompany me to the library?” Your voice sang out to him, despite your listless monotone and drifting eyes. It was the first sentence you muttered to him in 13 months. Your voice was more reserved, your back straightened and your lips pouted. You didn't look like that 12 year old he knew, you were 16 now. Even in his depravity, he took notice of every lovely advancement you had taken in care of your appearance. Your mother instructed you with glamours and proper wear, even now wearing a black feathered choker and brandished a black quill. A family heirloom, Regulus would tell him.
Now, he hated your mother, there was no question about that. What she had done to Regulus was unforgivable, what she had done to you was cause for retaliation in his eyes. But Merlin, did she put you back on the path of greatness.
“Crouch? {Y/N}, my love, it will always be Barty to you.” He lit up like a child, voice sugary sweet. It was your turn to take notice of his change. He was still the same boy you met in first year. Endlessly obsessive, devoted, and excelling at all the things you liked about him. Unfortunately, also the things you hated. 
But, he was still your Barty in your heart. The boy you loved, the boy you cherished, the boy who charmed your soul in ways you didn't know possible. If you had to pick anyone to fill the hollowed out ache in your chest, you chose dangerously, Barty Crouch Jr would be your reprieve.
He was just older now. He was becoming a man.
Everyone knows what they say, about a boy and a girl, coming into their own together. Barty figured this was your love story, you weren't one to argue any longer.
He didn't care that you only seemed to speak to him out of necessity. When he heard from Regulus that your mother was making you pick your friends based on their social standing, any males to soon be a suitor, he was ecstatic.
He was remarkable. He was seen. He was valuable enough to you to not be a mere pawn but maybe even a queen on your chest set. To be used by you? It was worth every moment of the ache. All of this because his father just so happened to keep his filthy hands to the purest bloodlines.
That was his value to you. His blood, his sweat, his labor, and his mind. They were yours, no questions asked. He clung to your heel with new found determination. He would keep you on the right track, the promised one. The one that would ensure your children had the same opportunities. 
He knew he wanted this the moment he walked in on you and Severus arguing in the courtyard.
“You dare call her a Mudblood, you incessant pompous Half Breed?!” Your voice echoed through the halls. People watched in horror, some in absolute shock, the sweet kind girl they had grown attached to was a right monster now. Barty, however, was loving it. You were a proper pureblood.
“{Y/N}-” Severus spoke carefully, something about his tone was far too familiar for Barty’s liking, him addressing you by first name made his jaw tighten. He didn't have to say a word. You rectified it.
“Do not address me as anything other than Black, you dirty mutt!” You screeched. Severus looked stunned, the usually stoic boy looked broken. Barty watched as your eyes trailed over a shocked and watery eyed Lily Evans, he almost didn't catch you muttering, “You lost that privilege.”
He, of course, came to your rescue, as he always promised. Hand around your back and escorted you away from the fight. As you both walked down the corridor your path was blocked. 
Barty almost laughed, Remus Lupin. He was standing with Sirius Black, both staring threatening daggers at Barty. When you both kept walking, Barty shoved a path between the two boys, you hand a fistful of his cloak so as to not be left behind.
He didn't like how Remus’s eyes softened at the sight of you. He didn't like how Sirius reached for you. He walked faster, putting your sniffling form in front of himself.
After that, he knew he had you. 
You were becoming who you were meant to be.
~~~
He took his mark that summer, standing alongside your brother Regulus Black, Lucius Malfoy, Beatrix Black and Evan Rosier. They were at your cousin’s manor, in the ballroom standing side by side. He was as straight as a board, brimming with pride, smirking to himself and brandishing his left arm.
He could feel your eyes on him, from where you stood, next to Narcissa, your aunt and your mother. Waiting for him. 
Evan was first, standing beside Barty and holding out his wrist. When the wand hovered over his wrist and the Death Eater began to mutter the incantation, Evan let out a blood curdling sound. Pure brutish pain shot through him, leading him to fall back. Quickly held up by two other death eaters behind him.
When the wand brushed Barty’s wrist next, he hardly flinched. Tilting his head back as sweat gathered around his temple and neck. He bit his lip and let himself feel every sharp intrusion the spell took, letting himself succumb to the blissful pain.
When he returned to you, not standing to wait for dismissal like the rest of them, he wrapped his arm around your waist and yanked you in. He stole your lips for his own, making you give a slight gasp. You don't fight it, so he pushed further, letting himself taste your bottom lip and pulling it punishingly between his teeth. Through his high he was able to recognize and memorize the feel of your lips and the taste, in his mind, it was the closest to the gods he'd ever get. What was true heaven, however, was when you took his cheeks in your hands and kissed him back.
“Enough.” He heard your mother hiss from beside you. She shooed Barty away like he was some stray dog. He backed down from where you stood, licking his lips and admiring just how shaken and red you looked. Your mother, the hag, pushed you behind herself and hid you away from his eyes.
When you looked away and covered your mouth, he almost didn't notice how you also licked your lips clean. That drove him mad.
He had come to the conclusion early on, you were a temptress. A vixen. A damned Siren as far as he knew. 
Memories of that night, your first kiss, the moment he could see you falling for him. A proper man, worthy of the worship he planned to give you. Worthy of serving a goddess like you. It kept him up most nights, it was a high even the dementor's couldn't take away, but they did manage to warp his obsession from what he believed to have been holy, to the truth.
He was brought on this earth for you. Without you, he was nothing. He was rotting.
{. 1976 Barty’s Year 6 .}
The next year he took your hand and promised you the world. To his delight, you responded in kind. You began dating his sixth year and it was absolute bliss. 
It didn't last long, that bliss. It became a thrill.
Despite his power and loyalty to the dark lord, your mother favored another's for your hand. Particularly, Avery. His father came to your mother with the proposal, your mother liked his offer of the estate and your own power over the house.
You, however, much to Barty’s delight, were way too far gone. In your now secret meetings, where you would take you strolls along the city street, to the shop or to the boutique. You made a show of it; but you only truly left for Crouch Manor.
Where Mr. and Mrs. Crouch turned their other cheek as you snuck your way to Barty’s chambers. Behind those locked doors your love was dangerous. His whispers and promises of treachery against your family name were met with nothing less than desperate devotion and promises in kind. As your palms glided over his bare chest and his large hands found their way under your skirt.
His favorite memories were all locked away in that room. The room he made you his own, where his hands grew familiar with your skin in ways no one else ever could, where he found an affinity for you breathless, and where he heard you let out sounds no self respecting Black heiress should ever let out. 
He claimed what was his birthright, between your legs. Bruised your lips numb and left marks you had to charm away when you made it back home. Just in time for supper.
With the feeling of him still fresh on your body. The pureblood heir your parents thought so lowly of. The heir they didn't see fit to sit at that very table, was still there. His lips were on the rim of the cup you sipped from, his hands were on the arm rests you relaxed against, and his teeth and claws were buried into their perfect daughter.
{. 1978 .}
By the time you both graduated, you took your place at the table. Having fought to hold off your engagement to Avery, Barty took it into his own hands to get between the two of you. Every time you glance in the boy's direction, he shrivels in on himself.
“Barty?” You whispered between his greedy kisses, in the halls of the Malfoy manor.  The only times his hands could find your hips and his lips could find yours outside of his own room now. He was starting to see less and less of you. The war was in full swing and with his desperation for you was all that was driving him most days. 
Thinking now, he wondered what drove you. Even now, having spent a year in Azkaban, you were still the light he flew to, no matter how much it hurt him. He could have sworn, at one time, it was him.
“Darling.” He whispered low against your lips. You tangled your fingers into his hair, before pulling him down. He rested his chin against the curve of your chest and looked up into your eyes.
You bit your lip, running your thumb along his own reddening ones. “Do you love me, Barty?” You cooed.
“I do.” He affirmed, licking the skin you touched along his Cupid's bow, “I do, more than anything.” His voice was raw and rough, he pulled at your hold, trying desperately to kiss you again.
“Do something for me, Barty.” 
“Anything, Darling. Anything.” He muttered, eyes still on your lips.
“Be within my reach. Always.” You whispered before releasing him. He took your lips once more, pushing you back against the wall like the very prospect of not touching you in some way was physically painful. His hand traveled up from your hand to rub over the mark you took just days earlier.
Every moment like that seemed fleeting. 
The very next year, Regulus Black passed. He had gone MIA and your mother, despite her loyalty to Voldemort, commanded you home. It got worse when they officially announced his death.
You stayed locked in those walls, by order of your mother. He missed you dearly. Barty never wanted to be your hero, some great commander, he couldn't care less now about who else even knew his name anymore. He was older now, and he just wanted to be yours. 
So, it pushed Barty to work even harder. Anything to appease The Dark Lord, get this war over with, so he could return to the only true person worthy of his reverence. 
Without you, his life went by in simple clips of reality. When Voldemort fell, he was imprisoned in this hellhole, and even now, he found himself unable to let anything else consume his mind.
The dripping of water from the rusting metal doors drove him mad. No other sounds but the miserable screams of inmates and slamming of bodies against pavement. It was a torturous and hopeless place, some people preferred punishment by their own hands. There was suddenly a loud clanging of keys that cut his thoughts.
He looked up from the corner of his cell, putting his thumb in his mouth and sucking on the bleeding torn skin. The marks he had made on the cell walls marked his 354th day in this nightmare. His eyes locked with his father and his mother, furrowing his brow as he stood.
His mother two out two veils of a slug colored potion, his father had another potion in his hand.
Barty didn't stay in that cell to see his 355th.
~~~
{. 1994 POV Shift .}
“It's a bit cold, don't you think?”
Remus Lupin's voice cut through the fog of your mind like a knife through butter. He was right, of course. Even as the year grew warmer with the summer months growing closer, the astronomy tower always gave a pleasant and persistent chill. 
You were used to it, by now. Being the Astronomy Professor for almost twelve years. About the same amount of years you managed to avoid coming into contact with Remus himself. 
You had to give him credit, Remus Lupin, he was persistent. Doing everything in his power to get you alone. As if one conversation would melt away years of what you had done, the people you deceived, the lives you took, the lies you told… all in the name of a crazed boy long lost to the history of the wizarding world. For the family who was as faded as the family tree you used to tend to with your brothers, painting names and burning faces. 
As if speaking to you would somehow bridge a gap. A gap in his heart that still ached for you. It was never something he was able to understand, your persistent and endless love for Crouch had come out of nowhere for him. He couldn't look Sirius in the eye for a long time, learning he had outed your budding relationship. 
He took every chance he could, to reach out, to speak to you, it was met with closed doors and a reminder of remaining professional. 
“It is. Heading out, Lupin?” You muttered to him. You couldn't lie and say having him here didn't make you feel, in some ways, nostalgic. To the loving, caring, respectful girl you once knew. One with so much patience and kindness you shared it with all kinds of souls. Souls you've watched drop like flies under the man you swore your life to.
“I am.” Remus muttered but didn't turn to leave. You shifted on your heel to look back at him from the entrance of the tower. He had his hand resting on the railing, his palm thudding against the railing as he tried to gather the courage to continue.
“I heard you gave Snape quite the earful.” He hummed, walking deeper into your classroom. You thinned your lips and shook your head, turning away from him. He gave a weak scoff. 
“Could you at least look at me?” He pushed, his voice wavering. You closed your eyes and gave a deep sigh. Your hands moved to grab the railing.
“What is it, Lupin?” 
“It's not too late.” He whispered and you closed your eyes. His words were exact, aimed to cut deep and retrieve from you the heart he knew was there; it just had grown cold. “You could come back. With me, tonight, we can meet with Padfoot and-”
“And what, Lupin?” You spoke calmly as you turned to face him. He went rigid at your stare. “Live this wonderful life you have weaved out for us? Pretend that everything is okay and the last few years never happened?” You pushed and he closed his eyes. 
Anger bubbled in his throat with something familiar, jealousy and bitter melancholy. If he could hear you any clearer you would be cotton in his ears. Your words were empty because he knew you could. Put Hogwarts behind you and come back to him, come with him and Sirius like you should have done back when you wore uniform and not cloaks like proper professors. Nothing was proper about you two aching hearts anyway. 
Yet history repeated itself.
It always would.
“You know he's gone.” Remus started slowly and your breath caught in your throat. You felt your eyes grow glossy with grief and you placed your left hand over your heart. 
“I never thought I would be someone's second choice. To Bartemius Crouch Jr.” He continued. “I see I never measured up, did I?” 
“... I am sorry, Remus.” You whispered, your voice, for the first time in years, was vulnerable. It was careful.
Because of course you loved Remus. You loved him dearly, but no man would own you like Barty had. You were terrified to let yourself be loved with anything less than what he had shown you. Steadfast and faithful love. No one could challenge the status of Barty in your life.
Even in death his ghost reminds you of your place. Next to him. 
Once this was over, once Dumbledore had seen and used his worth in you, when you were no longer under his wing like a servant, you would go back to 12 Grimmauld Place. You would retire. And you would wait for Barty to take you back home. Let it be a year, let it be ten, you would return to him as promised.
“... What have you become?” He whispered to you, and your eyes finally raised to meet him. You caught your tears and quickly cleaned your face. Shaking your head you put back on your practiced and perfect pout.
“.. A Black.”
Your exchange ended there. 
Remus returned to your brother, you presumed. You forged ignorance when you were questioned by the Ministry of your brother’s whereabouts. It didn't take much for them to let you be, especially with Mr. Crouch Senior’s particular protectiveness of you. Probably a gift from Mrs. Crouch, oh, how you missed her.
When Barty was taken and your mother was far too weak to control you, you visited the Crouchs’ daily. You helped Winky with taking care of his parents, particularly his sick and fragile mother. You grew a weak repore with his father, though you despised him. 
As a proper pureblood you just silently reaped the benefits of what the world had gifted you.
Including your wealth. With the house of Black fallen you were left to be the soul heir. Though, the moment you heard of Sirius Black’s escape, you reopened your joint account. Soon, you heard someone was able to access it. It was true; your brother was alive and well.
That was the only olive branch you extended to him. 
Once the school year was officially over you returned home. To your modest house down in an old town just a broom ride away from Hogwarts. Feldcroft.
You returned home, it was uneventful. Until you opened your door. 
You were greeted by Winky, the Crouch’s house elf. That wouldn't be unusual, Barty had preached to her about how you were both intended. How she should attend to you, how she attended to him. So she would appear at your house from time to time, with gifts and food she had prepared for Crouch Senior that she made just too much of.
“Winky?” You called out to the figure in your hall. The sheepish girl turned to face you with a careful smile.
“Madam Black has returned! How happy Winky is to see you, mistress.” She declared and hurried up to you. Her path was cut short as Creature stepped in front of her, snapping away your bags. He seemed in a foul mood. Fowler then usual.
“Your mother would not approve of your company, Ms. Blaaaack.” He warned and you furrowed your brow. “Nor would she approve of this home-”
“Kreature.” You demanded and he huffed. Winky was always coming in and out, Creature never voiced displeasure with her company and your mother, well, she could care less. “What company?”
“The noisy Crouch, Ma'am.”
Your heart dropped. He apparated away, assumingly to unpack your bags. Your eyes widened as Winky appeared in front of your full view. Showing off the black quill you had most definitely left at home. Your mothers old quill. You took it carefully from the house elf.
“Winky..” You spoke carefully and slowly. Holding up the quill between your fingers. “Who gave this to you?”
“I think you know, Darling.” 
Before Winky could answer, a voice lost to time spoke first. You knew it before you even turned around. 
Still, you jerked your entire body to face him. Your eyes locked, full of longing and hope.
 And there he was. Your Barty.
He was holding a newspaper, licking his bottom lip but his eyes were on you. His eyes were just how you always remembered them. So full of danger and appreciation for your simple presence. He stepped towards you and you took a step back. He tsked at that, reaching out to grab your waist. “Darling..” He whispered.
You were still in shock. Staring up at his brown eyes and waiting. For anything. “Barty?” You whispered.
When he kissed you, alarm bells went off in your head. You didn't listen to any of them, grabbing him just as greedily as he held you. Both of your eyes closed and you held each other like you might perspire. 
He was home.
He truly was.
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astars-things · 17 hours
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Ice cream
Jack Hughes x daughter!reader
Where luke takes y/n to go get ice cream when Jack cancels on her to go out with a fling (very angst)
Tonight, Y/N was bubbling with excitement. Jack had promised to take her to the park and for ice cream afterward. She had been counting down the days, telling all her preschool friends about her special night out with her dad.
"Uncle Lukey, Dada’s taking me out today!" Y/N had exclaimed earlier that morning, jumping up and down in her little jersey.
Luke smiled, ruffling her hair. "That’s awesome, Y/N. You guys are gonna have so much fun."
But as the evening crept closer, Jack's plans started to shift. A text pinged on his phone, and it was from a girl he’d been seeing casually—a fling, nothing serious. She suggested meeting up that night, and Jack, caught up in his feelings began to reconsider his plans with Y/N.
"She won’t mind," he told himself, ignoring the nagging feeling in his chest. "We’ll just go to the park tomorrow."
He shot a quick text to Luke, asking him to take Y/N out instead, and then hurriedly got ready for his night out.
Luke read the message, his brow furrowing. Jack was bailing on Y/N again, and Luke knew how much his niece had been looking forward to this. He glanced over at Y/N, who was sitting on the couch, swinging her legs in anticipation, clutching her favorite stuffed animal.
“Y/N,” Luke said softly, kneeling in front of her. “Dada can’t make it tonight. He’s… busy. But I’ll take you out for ice cream, okay?”
Her little face fell, and her eyes filled with tears. "Does Dada not love me anymore?" she asked, her voice trembling. The question pierced through Luke's heart like a blade. He pulled her into a hug.
“Of course he loves you, Y/N. Dada’s just… confused sometimes. But I’m here, and I love you. Let’s go get the biggest ice cream ever, okay?”
Y/N nodded, sniffling as she wiped her tears. Luke took her by the hand, determined to make the best of the evening, even if his heart ached for his niece. They drove to the ice cream parlor, and by the time they were sharing a double-scoop sundae, Y/N’s sadness had mostly melted away.
But Luke couldn’t shake the anger building inside him. Jack had crossed a line, and someone needed to call him out on it.
Later that night, when Jack came home, Luke was waiting for him in the living room. Jack was still in a carefree mood, oblivious to the damage he had caused. But Luke wasn’t going to let him off so easily.
“What’s up, bro?” Jack asked, tossing his keys on the counter.
Luke didn’t mince words. “Y/N cried tonight. You know why? Because you canceled on her. She sat there, waiting for you, excited for hours, and you just bailed on her to go out with some random girl.”
Jack’s face fell as the gravity of his actions sank in. “I didn’t think—”
“No, you didn’t,” Luke snapped. “And you’re not thinking about her. She asked me if you still loved her, Jack. Do you even get how messed up that is? She’s four, and she’s already questioning if her dad cares about her.”
Jack sat down, running his hands through his hair. “I love her, Lukey. I do.”
“Then start acting like it. You’re her dad, Jack. She looks up to you more than anyone. You can’t keep letting her down.”
The weight of Luke’s words hung in the air. Jack felt a knot form in his stomach. He had been so caught up in the whirlwind of his personal life that he hadn’t realized how deeply his actions were affecting his daughter.
“I’ll fix this,” Jack said quietly, guilt weighing heavily on his shoulders.
“You’d better,” Luke replied, his voice softer now. “Because she deserves better.”
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lieutenantfloyd · 2 days
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Pizza Hut and Silent Observation (Also Known as Stalking) - Deadpool x Reader
Word Count: 3.5k
Summary: Through a series of strange but undeniably on-brand events, Wade Wilson has found his opposite—and falls in love with them along the way. But as they both reckon with their feelings, reader pulls away, though this only hurts them both.
Warnings: fluff, opposites attract, attempts at humor, violence, Wade had ADHD, mercenary! Reader, language, mutual pining and a bit of mutual stalking, gentle tapping of the fourth wall, and Wade being Wade.
Authors Note: As much as I love all the Poolverine x Reader stuff, I’m craving some solo Wade x Reader! So consider this to be me being the change I wanna see in the world lol
Read on AO3
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A series of strange but undeniably on-brand events had led to Wade Wilson finding his polar opposite—The soft, quiet, and sweet to his rough, loud, and explicit.
For reasons unknown even to himself, Deadpool swears to keep his distance. Yet the more he tries to avoid you, the more you seem to cross paths. Keeping out of each other's way when you wind up trailing the same target quickly morphs into shared glances across bars and grocery store aisles. Wade is all too aware of the universe's fucked up sense of humor, and when he quite literally runs into you for a third day in a row, he swears that the sweet, melodic laughter that graces his is coming from the universe itself.
Despite the stolen kills and strange lack of conversation, Wade quickly grows fascinated by you. As you approach your sixth month of stilted interactions, the last remaining bits of optimism he has leave him wondering if this could potentially be the slowest slow burn of all time, only for those dreams to be crushed by the weight of everything that lies beneath his fancy spandex suit.
Nonetheless, his feelings about you—and how you operate in the field—grow into something far more than a simple curiosity. It becomes a wide-eyed admiration with an increasingly lewd undercurrent. You're everything he’s not. Clean and efficient with a one-track mind that never strays from the mission at hand.
Or at least that's what he tells himself.
-
It took exactly three meetings with the spandex clad mercenary to realize he might be the single most obnoxious person on the planet, and another five before you were willing to admit that he was also the single hottest.
You had always been someone who built their walls high and kept their defenses higher. It's why you found it so strange that the first crack in your emotional fortress was brought on by a mouthy mercenary taking a bullet for you without a second thought and making a joke about pegging with what should have been his dying breath.
His strange effect on you was something you used to justify your actions over the past several months. Frequenting his favorite bars and choosing to pursue the targets you knew he'd go after was simply just reconnaissance. You needed to know the why and how of what he made you feel, and getting close to him—while swearing it was for professional reasons only—felt like the best course of action. Sure, your heart raced every time you spotted him across the room, but that was only because you were satisfied by getting the timing of your meeting right. Maybe you let your eyes wander a little when he sunk his baby knife into the neck of your target, but you kept your thoughts of what else he kept hidden in that suit of his to yourself like any other well respecting person.
You weren't a stalker.
This wasn't stalking.
A grey area? Maybe. But definitely not stalking.
Or at least that's what you told yourself.
-
It was during your eighth month of silent observation that Wade realized that wherever he went, you were his sweet little shadow that kept him distracted. You had spoken to him barely a handful of times, yet you were always there to listen. You didn't care that he couldn't sit still or that he quite literally never shut up. No, you—his silent but darling angel—laughed at his jokes and brought him fidget toys. Alternatively, he never pressured you to speak up or forced you (too far) outside of your comfort zone.
The mutual respect between you grew larger and more profound until you were practically attached at the hip, becoming an unofficial duo both in the field and not. He'd always feel like he didn't deserve you, but at this rate, you were practically all he had left.
Logic—along with everyone in your lives—said that you should hate each other's guts. Yet from the first moment you met, You both just made complete sense to each other. You didn't ask to see what he hid underneath his mask and he didn't ask why you bought your groceries at the shop by His and Blind Al's apartment even though it was 45 minutes away from your own place. Things were simple. Good, even. But they still weren't enough for either of you.
-
He thinks about you constantly.
Thinks about you so much that he finds himself googling 'Can a person be a hyperfixation?' and 'signs you've found your soulmate' at 3am. Yet as much as his feelings for you have grown, whatever you had felt in return seemed to have disappeared along with your presence in his life.
Now what little focus he had was slipping. All because you had pulled away.
He'd taken more than a few knives to the skull over his last several missions, but the target he'd been tracking all year had finally made a home of an unmarked grave. He should feel excited—or at least somewhat satisfied—but he just felt numb. It'd been weeks since he'd last heard from you, but that didn't stop him from feeling phantom buzzes from his phone or searching crowds for your lovely, angelic face.
He'd even stopped by your place a few times. He forced himself to knock before picking the locks and entering your home. His genuine feelings of concern and abandonment were replaced by a gnawing pit in his stomach when he realized that your cozy apartment had become sterilized and vacant. He stayed there, frozen in place, for far longer than he would ever care to admit.
Deep down he'd always known this would happen. He was a depraved fuck up at best, and nothing good ever stuck around for him. But he thought—no, he knew—you were different. Only then did Wade admit that he was obsessed, if not teetering on the edge of stalkerish. He knew this was a glaring sign that he should back off, but Deadpool is anything, he is a man of maximum effort.
So he started waiting. Hoping that maybe you'll miss his unending self-deprecation and come back for him.
-
You promised to keep your distance. Wade was a good, albeit complicated, man who deserved something better. Someone who completed him. Who matched his energy and didn't forge a friendship based on an act of failed reconnaissance.
You'd been clean and clear of anything regarding him for over a month and were finally feeling good enough to head back to your old apartment and turn in your keys.
If you hadn't stopped in the hallway to reread the text from your landlord stating to leave the keys on the kitchen counter, you would have never noticed the shiny metallic scratches around the lock. Your line of work ensured that you knew instantly that it'd been picked, but you still moved in closer for a better look.
Whoever had broken in was either too inexperienced to know how to cover their tracks or brazen enough not to care. Given that the apartment was tucked away on the sixth floor with a freshly posted 'for rent' sign on the door, you couldn't see why this would be a random attack. You'd kept to yourself while living here, and you didn't have any valuables your more shady friends could be searching for. These were the facts you told yourself as you slipped the keys back into your pocket and ignored how only the latter, more reckless possibility had your heart racing.
Your typical evening plans were pushed aside in favor of pulling the security camera footage and settling in for an unconventional movie night.
Most of the tape was mind-numbingly boring, but your eyes were glued to the screen nonetheless. Searching for any piece of evidence to confirm your suspicions. Just as tiredness began to seep its way into your shoulders, you spot him. Even if he wasn't wearing the suit, you'd recognize him just by the way he dances into frame and gives a sarcastic wave at the camera. Seeing Wade again—even just in video format—fills you with so much affection that how you managed to leave him alone this long feels like a damn miracle.
-
The day of your return was unnotable in every way.
The sky is blue, the weather is mild, and you'd been tailing your target since before sunrise.
The job you were currently working requires fast, efficient work with no loose ends left behind. It was perfect for you, but the payout was enough to catch the eye of every mercenary in the local area and beyond. This was something you were banking on—the perfect way to say "I'm sorry" and "let's start over" to Wade without showing up cryptically on his doorstep.
The target pulls into a parking garage, and you know instantly that this is the other opportunity you've been hoping for. You follow them inside and park a few spaces away. You wait for them to walk in view of your rear view mirror before exiting the car. Their pace is relaxed and unalert as you fall in step with them—exactly how you prefer it—which giving you the green light to move in.
Your footfalls are silent as you close the small distance between you, weapon in hand. Hyperfocused and only a step behind them, you nearly run square into their back when they suddenly freeze and gasp.
"I'm on a tight schedule and you know what you did, so let's just cut to the chase, K?"
A second later, a blade lodges through their chest. As it retreats, their body falls limply to the ground, leaving your position completely exposed. Wade's eyes land on you instantly, and the way the whites of his mask widen has something in your chest growing tight.
"Hey," you stutter, thrown off guard by his sudden appearance. Though with everything you know about him, a part of you honestly should have prepared better for this.
"For what it's worth, I've been super busy since you decided to up and abandon me. So busy that I've only had time to cry twice in the last twelve hours," he says, slipping his katana back into place with precision.
"I'm sorry."
"Sorry? You're gonna have to do better than that to get back into my good graces, sugar plum."
His humor remains as unwavering as always, but the edge to his usually carefree voice betrays a glimpse of his inner workings. If it hadn't been obvious before, you know now, without any doubt, that your attempt to protect his feelings had only done the opposite.
"I didn't want to hurt you, Wade."
"Well, you failed spectacularly!" He deadpans.
You breathe in sharply and take a cautious step closer to him as his hands rise to rest on his hips. "I like you, you know. Which for me is…a lot."
You can practically see the wheels turning in his head as he speaks. As if he's holding back his true feelings for once.
"It took me far too long to admit it to myself, but I like you too, Wade." He's shockingly quiet as you speak, and the silence drags on for several seconds afterward.
"Do you maybe… like like me?" He asks in a soft voice that has you gearing up for his inevitable teasing. You sigh, and he takes up a pose that says he's the picture of innocence. Yeah right.
"Against my better judgment, yes."
His hands fly to his face, and he gasps so loud you wonder if your sliced-and-diced target had suddenly come back to life.
"You're telling me—mouthy merc Wade Winston Wilson—that I created such a stirring in that-" his eyes flash downwards before rising back to yours "great chest of yours that the only way you knew how to deal with it was to ghost me like fucking Casper?!"
Your half baked plan honestly sounds stupid when you hear it out loud, but he's undoubtedly right.
You nod in a mix of amusement and defeat, which sends his fists flying into the air.
"YES!" He screams "I'm finally getting my third-act-confession-in-a-hallmark-channel-romance-movie moment! Take that you ableist studio execs!"
You roll your eyes, refusing to believe you're letting his weird quips charm you once again.
"I'm sorry Wade, truly," you say.
Guilt sets in then. While you'll probably always think he deserves better—or at least something different—than what you can give him, you've realized that breaking his heart by leaving hurt you both more than whatever may or may not happen if you let your feelings be known.
You awkwardly poke the stiffening body of your target with the toe of your boot before you take a page out of Wade's book and finally bite the bullet.
"You stole my kill, and that means you owe me dinner," You say with a surprisingly playful air.
Wade shrugs, not missing a beat as he counters you.
"I mean, 'stole' doesn't really apply when it was full on open season for this hit, and you just happened to be too slow."
"Wade, do you want to take me out or not?" You bite back.
"Hold your horses there Dr. House, yes I do!"
"Good." You nod.
"Good?" He questions with mock offense. "That's all you have to say when a handsome man such as I is about to take you out for a candle lit date at the third finest Pizza Hut in the city? I even offered to pay with the dirty money from my most recent kill!" He exclaims, eying the increasingly pale body between of you.
"I should stayed away," you mutter half jokingly under your breath as you turn to leave, knowing that he'd follow.
"What was that, pookie?" He asks, using his gloved hand to cup his ear dramatically as he crosses the distance between you with flourish.
You roll your eyes as he falls in step with you, though it doesn't go unnoticed by the usually unobservant mercenary.
"I saw that, sugarplum," he croons. You snort out an exasperated laugh and nearly repeat your previous eye roll just to stir the pot a little more.
"I know you're probably not as well versed in this whole enemies to lovers, will-they-won't-they dating thing, but I've read enough fanfiction to know that this whole dark and brooding thing you've got going on is supposed to be reserved for others, not you're darling love interest."
"I'm glad that you admit that I'm the main character," You laugh. Wade's eyes widen as he realizes the mistake he's made. Yet instead of pressing the issue, he slips his phone out of his spandex suit—where it's kept is something you don't care to think about—and calls in the kill.
You continue on walking, heading nowhere in particular. You’re just happy to have Wade by your side once again. The call comes to an end quickly, the phone disappears once more, and he loops one of his strong arms around your shoulders.
"So, pookie, about that dinner date…"
You raise your eyebrows instantly, recognizing that his tone of voice as the one he uses right before dropping bombshells.
"The money is on a thirty six hour hold—a surprisingly formal rule given our shady choice of gig—so would you mind paying? I'd tell you I'd pay you back but we both know I won't." He smiles innocently.
You scoff, only for a soft smile to bloom on your own face.
"You better sweep me off my feet," you tease, wrapping your own arm around him as you both make your way through the busy city streets. Cars race by and neon lights flicker overhead, reflecting in the puddles left by the afternoon rain.
He shoots you a sideways grin from beneath his mask, "Sweep you off your feet? That sounds like soooo much work. I'll just stick to charming you with my usual irresistible appeal instead."
You snort sarcastically. "irresistible appeal? You mean being an insufferable pain who always leaves me behind to clean up your messes?"
You turn the corner, arriving at the restaurant Wade had promised. You'd been here together before, though usually after a job gone wrong, and it had become your go-to hideout whenever your paths crossed.
Sliding into your usual booth, you lean back against the cracking vinyl and cross your arms, almost amused by the situation.
"You stuck me with the bill, so you better order something cheap," you joke as he eyes the menu.
Wade leans forward, his elbows resting on the table beside his now discarded red and black mask.
"Best I can do is treat you to dessert if you behave," He smirks, very much not talking about baked goods or confectionery.
You narrow your eyes at him, though he sees the playful spark swimming beneath them.
"Behave? That's rich coming from you. I'll be lucky if you don't have a knife buried in your head by the time the food comes out." He grins, a flash of mischief dancing across his eyes.
"What can I say? I like to make life exciting. Besides, we can't all be dark and brooding on the sidelines, now can we?"
You roll your eyes before looking back at the menu, an action that causes his smile to grow bigger.
The familiar heavy but playful energy between you has returned as if the past weeks had never happened. Things are comfortable, if not easy. It's the kind of rhythm you and Wade always fall into, no matter how long you spent apart.
From across the booth you see Wade's head fall to the side, his eyes examining you closely.
"What?" You ask, your eyes staying on the menu but not really looking at it.
"You seem…excited. Well, as excited as you can get, really." He says in a surprisingly soft tone.
"Me? Excited? Never."
"Perhaps then you just missed this sexy face? You wouldn't be the first…" he smirks as he looks at you with annoyingly innocent eyes.
"Or perhaps I'm waiting on the other shoe to drop. It seems like every time we're together, one of us is getting shot at or double-crossed. I wouldn't call that particularly exciting." You counter, though you know he's got you pinned.
He huffs out a laugh, leaning back in his seat. "Come on, Wednesday Adams, admit it—You. Missed. Me."
You glance up at him, meeting his gaze. There was something disarming about the way he looked at you, like you weren't just two messed up mercenaries thrown into the same mess over and over again. Like there was something more to be had than all your teasing and banter. And as much as you hated to admit it, he was right. You had missed him.
"I missed this place, not you," you deflect, though your smile betrays you.
"You missed this shithole?" he replies, eyes twinkling. "I knew your standards were low—I mean you are on a date with me after all—but holy fuck."
You shake your head, unable to stop the laugh that bubbles up. "Hey! This isn't a date!"
He leaned in, his voice dropping lower as it fills with that infuriating charm he's known for. "Oh, don't you worry pookie. This is just the first step in my plan to date the hell outta you."
For a moment you sit there, the noise of the restaurant fading as your eyes lock with his wild ones. A truth hangs between you—no matter how many times you tried to downplay it, there was an undeniable electricity that always sparked between you. Something crazy and unpredictable, not unlike your daily lives.
You shake your head. "If it's a date, then you're paying," you say, finally breaking the tension with a happy smirk.
"Fine," he says with a huff, drawing out the last syllable as he leans back in his seat. "But next time, you're buying the drinks."
"Next time?" You ask, raising your eyebrows.
"Oh, you know there's always going to be a next time," His eyes gleam as you let out a soft laugh, glancing at him with a mixture of exasperation and fondness.
"You're maddening, you know that?" You say, though there's no bite behind your words.
He gasps dramatically once more. "Is this the part of the movie where you say I drive you crazy before we go back to my place and have a heated makeout session?!"
For a moment you just watch him, eyebrows furrowed but a lazy smile hanging on your lips. The noise of the restaurant and the city beyond it fades into the background. It was almost funny how you and Wade always ended up back here, side by side, cracking jokes and deflecting feelings you both refused to admit you had.
Yet as his hand drops onto the table it brushes softly against yours, and you can't imagine a world in which you pull away. He's incessant, annoying, exasperating, along with a million other words, but he's here with you despite everything. A gesture that proves that maybe a bit of humor is exactly what you are missing from your life.
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An act of kindness I'll never forget - I was in elementary school, and both a classmate and I were reading the same book series. We were both bullied at recess, so we would stay inside and read in the library instead (with one or two other students). The elementary school librarian knew us both well, and she told us that she was buying a copy of the new book from the series for the library. She promised us both it would be ready for check out on release day.
My classmate and I talked for WEEKS about running to the library on lunch break (against the rules!) to get the book first. The day comes, we both tear out of the classroom and bolt for the library, and up to the desk.
Our librarian is there, waiting for us at the desk, smiling. We ask her who made it to the desk first (I think he did, honestly) - who gets to check out the book first, and who gets it second? We're out of breath, but she just laughs...
She pulls two copies of the book from underneath the desk.
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boygirlctommy · 1 month
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i love the bit from oct 17 2020 when tommy and quackity trapped wilbur in a cobblestone box to keep him from pressing the button... wilbur punching through the blocks with his bare hand to try to get to the button... tommy frantically replacing the block in front of him yelling for quackity to do something... the moment when tommy stops, blocks the exit, and tells wilbur to do it. press the button. but then theyd die with him. quackitys like "wait, wait-" but tommy holds his ground and wilbur. ohh wilbur. "why'd you have to make it so hard?"
#my post#this is just me rambling sorry i love that stream ive watched it sososossoooo many times from all 3 povs#AND AFTER TOMMY AND QUACKITY LEAVE....#wilbur replaces the button. i just need to know that its there.#and he goes on and on about how hes such a showman. how he shouldve just pressed it when he was alone.#but he just NEEDED someone to see him he needed someone to bear witness. guh#shaking. shaking. shaking. tommy put so much trust in him in that moment. he looked at him and said i know you want to hurt yourself but yo#wouldnt hurt me. and is he right to believe that? is he? maybe back in lmanberg maybe back during 'your life is worth more than the#revolution' but in pogtopia?? during 'wilbur wanted to be treated poorly so he treated others poorly'? it was a gamble for sure#and i mean as time went on tommy realized that. that as much as he cared about wilbur he couldnt trust him all the way.#but either way. in that moment i think tommy was sure that wilbur wouldnt press it if he realized that tommyd be killed as well.#that even though at this point people were saying wilbur was crazy. that hed lost it. that even if he didnt get it he knew something was#different about wilbur now. in that moment he bet everything on if there was anything of his brother left he wouldnt hurt him.#fucking. collapses onto the floor#disclaimer if anyone actually reads this far im not trying to slander pogbur in 2024 by calling him crazy thats just how like. every single#other character saw him.#anyways thanks for coming to my ted talk
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grahamcarmen · 7 days
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And my thing STILL is that as carmen gets a stronger sense of her past and better connections with her friends and allies the need/desire for Gray in her life doesn't decrease and dissapate, it INCREASES and is refined. All while constantly being more sincerely layered in romantic tones as the show goes on.
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riot-control-camp · 4 months
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OKAY NOT DONE TALKING ABOUT THE LITTLE GARDEN ARC
ESPECIALLY THE NARRATIVE PARALLELS BETWEEN ZORO AND SANJI AND DORRY AND BROGGY??? THE FACT THAT THOSE PARALLELS PARTICULARLY IMPLY THAT THEY HAVE A SPECIAL BOND THAT WILL LAST LITERALLY FOREVER???
THE VISUAL WHERE THE AUDIENCE REALIZES THAT THE MOUNTAIN RANGES WERE SKULLS?? PAIRED WITH THEM LYING IN THE SAME POSITION AS ZORO AND SANJI'S TWO DINOSAURS LEFT BEHIND ON THE BEACH?
average tumblr user notices single instance of symbolism, more at 11.
but usopp getting more moments of bravery!!! WE STAN HIS ARC!!!!! I LOVE HIM!!!
zoro getting to laugh and tease people this arc was beautiful, i love that stupid cunty bitch
sanji getting his part of the arc done through cunty trespassing, lying through his teeth, and beating up animals? FANTASTIC THANK YOU FOR MY LIFE (specifically thank you for that twisting move he did with his heels around the vultures head. how does it feel to live MY. D R E A M)
LUFFY WAS SO SHAPED. I WOULD KILL FOR HIM. HE'S SO FERAL.
and calling it now, nami is absolutely going to get malaria girl is the QUEEN of "it's nothing [2 episodes later it is in fact a resonant Something with excruciating plot relevance and emotional stakes attached to it"
almost simped for crocodile but miss all sunday was Right There MA'AM. MA'AM. RESPECTFULLY AND ASEXUALLY, TILL THE BED FUCKING BREAKS--
also he has a giant gold pet which i don't fuck with. also his rings remind me of redd white from ace attorney who is Unfuckable as he is a murderer of a mentor figure (other forms of murder have not detered me from simping in the past. in fact it is typically a point in a character's favor)
also oh my god tumblr makes so much more sense now that i am attempting to use it while high, my fluency rate and understanding of how every person on this platform is distressingly and hilariously comfortable assuming their experience is universal
okay but the still of the giant's weapon shards thrown over their head in victory? makes me insane, will never be over it cannot fucking handle it will be crying forever and ever
#oli oscillates#one piece#one piece little garden#however one thing i will say also is i read a zosan fic wherein sanji asked zoro when zoro knew he loved him#and zoro answered 'little garden' which after seeing this arc i sense that that is BULLSHIT#i feel like that's probably when he started FALLING#as there is DEFINITELY a shift in how zoro talks to him in that reuniting scene. like the vibe of that was different#but zoro would not. realize that yet??? i genuinely don't think#like#like they have only been a consistent crew for arlong loguetown and the laboon arc?? (not counting apis as she's anime filler#and i skipped it)#i think this is when zoro would start QUESTIONING why he cares so much about who wins between him and sanji.#why he's so desperate to be relevant to him. why he has to give as good as he gets#and i think sanji respectfully#IS NOT THERE YET. his character from what i understand at this point in the show is.#well the POINT of his delivery is that he has three faces. how he treats women how he treats men. and how he treats someone he fights#(the last of which is implied to be the “truest” version of him--the iron core that makes him worthwhile as a Good Guy Deep Down tm)#and consequently a member of the strawhats)#i would love to see how future arcs handle the interaction of those three dynamics or a more unified sense of self for sanji#because much as i am down bad nasty for him there's this profound like. i almost want to say insecurity in him that makes him feel--#very wet cat traumatized. he gives me “unloved as an early child and therefore has a fucked up sense of self or love as concepts” vibes#it wouldn't surprise me if he didn't fall until much later than zoro#anyways#mutuals forgive me for holding you hostage in the tags accidentally i have had the goofy silly
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zannolin · 1 year
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you ever get an idea that is sooooo. arghhhhh bites into a roof tile and cries.
#zanna talks#i cant like word it good yet#but i think if mia ever got to talk to ethan after he died like either bc he came back or a SOR situation or whatever#that she should be allowed to be a little angry at him for just giving up. not facing the aftermath.#like you went somewhere you knew i couldnt follow. you left because you knew i was still here to take care of rose.#but you left us alone. you left ME alone.#YOU KNOW like not bc he's a terrible horrible person for doing that but bc shes human and it hurt. what he did hurt.#and anger is a stage of grief for a reason you know#i am 110% convinced he was only able to do that because she wasn't there for him to look her full in the face and say i'm leaving#you cannot change my mind on this#not bc hes scared of her or whatever the fuck ppl seem to think. but bc he loves her. and how can you do that to someone when you can see#the hurt and the realization and the grief dawn in their eyes you know#anyway. sorry ive been thinking about this so hard i had to stop reading rwrb#putting this all in the tags btw bc iiiii am scared of mia winters antis here on tumblr okay dont come for me ppl let me chill#let me have my little ideas. let me be.#like mia would understand in a way why he did it bc she did the same thing except it was different then#they could have saved him. or at least they could have tried. and he just gave up#meanwhile mias been living with the consequences and the guilt of what she did every day for years now#YKNOW.
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artemismatchalatte · 2 years
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Okay BUT that ancient idea that all 'good' women don't have any sexual desires at all, only men do is highly destructive and still influencing society today...
For a very long time, I was so uncomfortable with the idea of having a sexuality at all because I internalized that shit. YES, REALLY!
For many years, I fought for the rights of my gay friends fiercely (all the while not connecting the dots of why it mattered to me on a more personal level).
I was loudly vocal about LGBT activism at my college, all while living like a nun and avoiding ever having to deal with any of my personal feelings.
Suppressing yourself like I did is NOT healthy. I wouldn't suggest it at all.
#I tell you I was probably the least self aware person you have ever met#granted I am sort of glad it turned out this way because I didn't know I was bipolar until I was 22#So somehow younger me was just put all her manic energy into really loving the gays...hmm wonder why#I would not want to be a scary unmedicated girlfriend nooooooo because trust me it would have been UGLY#and somehow I thought I was asexual...I was just very good at supressing things which I can't any more because of the bipolar#and because I wanted to be the perfect daughter I tried to be straight and failed horribly at it...comp het is horrible it really is#don't waste your entire 20s trying to be someone you aren't#look you can be ace and be a woman that's not my point#hypersexuality which is a symptom of bipolar disorder pretty much rules out being asexual- sorry but I realized it#I wasn't asexual because I wasn't interested in men I was gay because I had been interested in women the whole time#I just aggressively ignored it for the most part since I had some fucked up ideas about myself and cared too much what people would think#one of my best friends is a lesbian irl and many many of my friends in school were LGBT of some kind#I purposely sought out other LGBT people to hang out with- because on a level I knew I belonged with them#I definitely miss the communities at school and I could just be around other gay people and just chill there#I'm lucky in that way I think and I hope all LGBT people experience that sense of belonging in their lives#Idk but I was thinking about the damaging confinement of assumed asexuality for women when uhhh that's not accurate WOMEN CAN HAVE DESIRES#mychatter
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tonycries · 4 months
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Unmistakably Yours - G.S.
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Synopsis. In which the strongest bends space and time - literally - after coming back from deatḣ, to do what he’s always wanted to do - you.
Pairing. Gojo Satoru x Reader
Content. MDNI, fem! reader, best friends to lovers, Satoru goes a little (very) INSANE, oral (fem receiving), fíngering, manga spoilers, use of jujutsu powers, unprotected, créampie, spitting, overstim, féral Satoru, heinous things, happy ending, pet names, swearing.
Word count. 4.5k
A/N. Yeahhh that poll was cooking up something devious heheh. Gege give me back my man.
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Gojo Satoru was going to kill someone.
He was going to kill someone and it didn’t matter who. It didn’t matter how. It didn’t even matter if he had to haul his broken body - scarred and barely-healed - out of this stiff infirmary bed, because the great Gojo Satoru awoke and the world shook.
Because you weren’t here.
“Ah. The oh-so deadest one, I see you’re awake.” Satoru flinches at the sharp, exhausted drawl from his left. 
Slowly, he blinks away the haze in his aching eyes, desperately trying to adjust to the cold room. Shoko’s voice was too loud. The lights too bright. His waiting arms too empty - where were you? 
With a low hiss, Satoru’s body is moving before his mind, sitting up like a man possessed. Goosebumps prickle his skin as the thin blanket falls off his shoulders. Temples throbbing because the world was spinning and spinning and you-
“Calm down, Satoru.” Shoko sounds almost panicked now - as much as she could, anyway. Uselessly trying to push him back onto the mattress. “I don’t care if you’re the ‘strongest’. Sukuna did a number on you and you have to rest-”
“Where is she?”
---
It was the final nail on your coffin - that slight, steady rumble beneath your feet. So fleeting that you’d written it off as your weary brain, too goddamn tired from today. Heaving out a sigh, you rub your eyes in frustration, so fucking alone in this too-large penthouse. 
Fingers jittery, you rifle through your best friend’s closet for his box of blindfolds, because you knew he’d be complaining about the sensory overload at the infirmary if- when he woke up. Though, you think that was more an excuse for Shoko to send your wrecked self away than anything. 
Grabbing a few more than necessary, your heart lurches as you eye that dusty framed photo by his bedside. A much younger Satoru, Suguru, Shoko, and you - probably the last time any of you smiled so carelessly. 
One dead and the other just on the cusp of it.
He’ll be okay. He’ll be okay. He’ll be okay. He’s the strongest, right?
Swallowing heavily, you try to put your mind to something - anything - other than the memory of that battlefield and the blood. So much blood. Everywhere. 
God, you should’ve stayed. What if Satoru-
That was when you felt it. 
The tight, uncomfortable feeling of atoms standing at attention all around you. The air was so stagnant and heavy that it was almost hard to breathe. 
You don’t know how you realize what it is - but you don’t get the chance to wonder about it either. Because the thought has barely even crossed your mind before everything else is thrown at the window at those two words. 
Hoarse, and whispered, voice ever-so-slightly cracking at the end. One you recognized, one you knew you always would.
“My love?”
Satoru.
It was a miracle that you didn’t get whiplash from how fast you whirled around to face the doorway - and it was an even bigger miracle that you didn’t trip at how your legs were carrying you to that tall, familiar flash of white hair without a second thought. 
Hell, you don’t think you’ve ever run this fast in your life, and it still wasn’t quick enough when Satoru engulfed you in his arms. Letting out a soft sigh as he hugs you tight enough that it hurt, like he never wanted to let go. 
All familiar warmth and a rapid heartbeat that matched your own. 
A shiver runs down your spine at that scent of the infirmary, tinged with something so dangerously metallic, miles away from the usual hints of pine and candy. But you only pull Satoru closer - not even realizing the tears staining his snug t-shirt, nails digging into his sculpted back. 
“S-Satoru?” you murmur wetly, as if you still couldn’t believe it - even when you were in his strong arms. 
It killed you to pull away, and Satoru wasn’t any better, pulling you firmly to his heated body with a guttural grunt as soon as you showed any signs of shifting away. Grip almost bruising, fingers tight on your hips. But you didn’t mind, why would you? 
Because the strongest was nothing under your will - he always was. And it’s only once you break the embrace just a fraction of an inch that you confirm that this actually was Satoru - your Satoru. 
“You’re here.” you breathe out unsteadily, not knowing where to look first - his heaving chest, as if he’d run all the way here, or those faint scars along his exposed skin. Jagged, running down his pale skin like he was too impatient - too distracted - to let them heal properly. Satoru’s face was scarily blank, pretty lips set in a tight grimace like every second you weren’t locked in his arms killed him. 
He doesn’t answer - like he didn’t know himself. Nervously, you raise your eyes to meet his and-
Oh, Satoru, he was here. Alive.
Looking like he was ready to make sure that no one else was.
You just wondered where they’d pile all the casualties. Too many to bury at Jujutsu High if those tiny blue flickers of lightning at the corners of Satoru’s eyes were anything to go by. 
Gaze hooded, pupils blown, he didn’t look at you with that usual warmth. No, he looked at you like a man that had crawled back from death just to rip you apart. And you had half the mind to wonder whether this was some special grade curse that had just come disguised as your best friend. 
“Are you okay?” you try again, raising a hand to cup his cheek. “Toru?”
Oh, you might as well have just signed your own will, because no sooner are the words out of your mouth before Satoru’s jolting. Like the mere sound of that stupid little nickname from high school was enough to shock him to his very core. 
Electrify him just enough to finally look at you like it was the first time. Like he was seeing you after a thousand years. “My love.”
There it was again, that quiet, strained little mantra. 
Followed very closely by the deafening slam! of the door behind him, so hard that you spy one of the hinges rattling off. Startled, you look over Satoru’s broad shoulders just to catch a glimpse of the single, large handprint charred into the wood, slight steam wafting from his hand.
Shit. He’s lost it.
Almost like the strongest has forgotten his restraint - or didn’t care about it either way. Heated, you wondered what this boded for you. 
Will you be lucky number one on his kill list? You wonder, as Satoru presses his mouth right above your pulse. Racing. Dangerous. Feeling the rapid thump! thump! thump! under his lips.
Breathing you in, dragging his nose up, up, up- He mutters into your skin, “Y’can kill me if you don’t want this.” Will you go down - if there’s anyone left to remember, that is - as the casualty that surely and officially signaled the honored one’s descent into madness? Only the second best friend he had to kill?
Or, Satoru pulls away slowly from his little haven, breath ghosting your lips as he gasps out a shaky, “No God can take me away without doing this.” Will it be something else entirely?
And then he’s kissing you - and you’re kissing him. 
Because fuck, how could you not? This is Satoru, and this is all you’ve ever wanted since those late night convenience store runs in high school, hand-in-hand and teleporting away from a furious Yaga.
The same Satoru that had cockily winked at you goodbye before facing Sukuna - leaving you crying with nothing to hold onto but those cold, cold hands and wishes that you’d have just fucking kissed him before. Maybe even put aside your pride to just tell him.
But none of that mattered now, because Satoru was so desperate - drinking you in like you were the last breath of air on Earth. Like it hurt more to part with your lips than it was to be cleaved in half.
Such a mess of teeth and saliva, and you were addicted. Drunk off his sweet taste - like candy, almost, and those cheap mochi he always got from downtown - and the electricity pricking at you each time your skin grazed against his.
It almost hurt - but it hurt so good.
Gasping, you pull away for air - impossible with the way Satoru was like a madman, kissing your swollen lips again and again and-
“Toru!” you squeal, muffled through his lips. “Aren’t you-” His mouth drops into a soft oh! at the delicate strings of saliva snapping in the non-existent space between you two. Surging forward like he couldn’t help himself. “Battlefield- mmpf- now?”
With a pained grunt, Satoru finally halts, just a hair’s breadth from your lips. And if you were in any better state of mind, maybe you’d have noticed the brief flicker of blue lightning all over his body. The way the lights flicker. 
“Special curtain.” he pants against your open mouth, a muscled thigh shoving between your weakening legs. “Time barely passes in here.”
You don’t know what your head is reeling more from his words or his hands - hands that kill - caressing you like a lover everywhere. Unable to decide between your hips, to your ass, to your pretty pretty face. Kiss-bitten lips uttering, “Everyone’s waiting for you.”
“So?” Satoru lets out a humorless laugh. About an octave higher than usual, like he was at the end of his rope now. Eyes hazy and glowing, looking as if it took everything in him to not just tear off that uniform and take you right now. 
“But-”
“Shut up and let me ruin you, my love.”
Your back is hitting the mattress before you can even start to wonder what the fuck is happening. One second standing at the doorway and the other all sprawled out on Satoru’s bed.
Besides yourself, you blurt out, trying to make sense of the situation to both of you two. “Did- did you just teleport us?”
“Don’t know.” he answers. And Satoru sounded like he genuinely didn’t know, as bewildered as you were. Powers acting before him - way, way before he can think - as he fists your shirt in his hands. “Don’t care.”
And you half wondered whether Satoru was even aware of what he was doing as he pulls, down, down down. 
Rip!
It tears through the air - both the sound, and the way he’s just pulling your shirt to shreds. All depravity and no repentance as Satoru throws it behind God-knows-where. Buttons hitting the floor at a maddening little rhythm to which he was slowly losing his sanity. 
He was kissing you like he was angry - taking it out on your poor clothes. Because before you know it, he’s pulling your bra off. Fingers searing on your skin, skirt just tatters on the floor. 
“Waited too long.” he groans, leaving wet, open-mouthed kisses down your neck. “Always wanted to do this.” And once he started, it was like Satoru just couldn’t stop, rambling into the valley of your breasts, “Ever since I first saw you and oh-”
That was it - only one look at your panties, all flimsy and drenched - and you’re back to wondering what Satoru’s kill count would be. You shudder as his eyes widen, letting out a strangled gasp from some deep, primal part of himself. Voice so broken and starved as he muses, “-can’t believe I waited this long.”
Shit. You weren’t making it out alive.
Immediately, Satoru’s dropping further down the mattress, easily pushing your knees up all the way till they were at your breasts. 
And it was so unfair. 
Unhair how he was still fully clothed, while you were spread so shamefully. Unfair how he was sliding his underneath your panties up and down, grazing your swollen folds. Up and down, up and down up and- Pooling your sweet sweet juices on his fingertips before pulling, marveling at how sinfully soaked they were. 
And it was like something snapped - maybe his whatever restraint he had left, probably you by the end of this. Because just a split-second later, Satoru’s tearing right through your panties. Not even taking a second to breathe before burying his pretty face into your dripping cunt. 
Unfair how you were liking it so dangerously. Being so used. 
And Satoru knows - he thinks, with whatever rationality he has left intact - that he wants to admire your pretty lil’ cunt. To finally drink in what he’s been dreaming about for years all these lonely nights. But, no, that’s for later - for a different Satoru, one that didn’t feel like he was going to fucking die if he didn’t taste you right now. 
“Ah! Hngh- T-Toru-” you arch into his hot tongue, as he licks erratically up your folds, long, sloppy movements of his tongue all the way from your base to your swollen clit. Lapping at your juices like he couldn’t stop.
“Tha’s right.” words muffled into your cunt. Throwing your legs over his sculpted shoulders. “Gimme more, use me. Use me- fuck fuck fuck- yeah.”
He sounded as delirious as you were already, flinching with each word spat into your sensitive cunt. Drunk off your pussy and so messy, like he was well and fully intent on ruining you. 
And it’s all you can do to sob so needily as he swirls his tongue around your sensitive clit. Seemingly unable to decide between sucking on it harshly and dipping into your sloppy hole. In and out. Wanting everything. Anything. 
“Fuck. S’too deep. Sh-shit.”
“Oh yeah?” he’s grinning, a cruel, cold little grin. You can feel it as he rolls his tongue against your clit over and over. “S’not deep enough.”
You pathetically try to close your legs around his head in shock, as the tips of his long fingers spread open your pussy further, teasing your entrance. 
But who were you against the strongest? The one that got everything handed to him on a silver platter since birth? Except you - until now, that is.
Because Satoru’s swatting thighs back open like it was a mere inconvenience, and feel your cunt clench in- fear? Anticipation? as you realize how gently he was throwing you around like a ragdoll, in comparison to that door from earlier. 
“No.” he sounds absolutely wrecked, babbling around your throbbing clit. “Need this- need you.”
And then he’s plunging knuckle-deep in your plushy pussy, so greedily that your slick is trailing down his wrist. Drinking in your pretty gasps of his name as he roams for that one spot he knows will have you seeing stars - only the best for his girl, right? The only thing on his mind right now, like a predator starved.
You can only tug on his hair and buck wildly underneath him, inching Satoru closer to where he was desperately searching for. Close - so close. 
“Toru-” you moan, like a prayer. 
But it wasn’t fast enough. 
Not for Satoru, at least.
Even through the haze in your eyes, you could make out that brief flash of electric blue in-between your legs, eyes widening as ah-
That cheat. 
You wondered if he even knew he was using his powers right now. Or whether Satoru was too far gone at this point. Way too smug with the way he hits that one spot. Hard. 
Ah, you quiver as something so dark sparks in his eyes. Looking like a man starved, that had finally come across his favorite meal. Moving with frightening accuracy as he pumps his fingers in and out, hitting it each and every time. 
“Shit, ngh-” you let out a shrill moan, “It’s too good. You’re so fucking-” 
One hand was so messy toying with your dripping entrance - the other digging into your hips. Dragging your sloppy pussy senselessly all over his mouth. 
Hard enough that you were sure it’d leave marks for tomorrow. If you even made it that long, that is, if the tiny shocks of electricity at his fingertips told you anything. 
Desperate. Violent, even.
So it only makes sense that your orgasm was the same. “Fuck- m’cumming m’cumming, fuck fuck fuck-” You’re shaking as you cum, crying out Satoru’s name and delirious little moans that you’d otherwise be embarrassed of. 
And he doesn’t stop. Not when you’re blinking your vision back. Not when you’re shying away from his tongue, the stars behind your eyes too much with each flick of his tongue. 
“S’too much- too- fuck, sensitive, Toru.” you whine, big fat tears clinging to your lashes. 
Ah, there it was again. Just when Satoru was beginning to think that he might just be veering into a state of mind that could be considered sane - you have to call him that goddamn nickname again. And it’s only driving him wild. 
Well, he muses, fumbling with the hem of his t-shirt, it’s really on you then. 
You let out a fucked-out little whine as Satoru finally takes his shirt off, revealing such milky, toned skin. All sharp curves and dips like he was sculpted so meticulously, going down, down, down and- Your breath hitches at the large, pink scar standing out of his torso, so uneven and fresh that you feel a fresh wave of tears - different ones, this time. 
You take a steadying breath, eyes unmoving from the injury. “Satoru-”
“No.” Satoru’s tone is firm, so different from the metallic tinkling of his belt. He was moving now, shifting in between your legs to kiss those tears away. “Need this. Need you. Need you need you need you so bad-”
“But your…” you trail off. The words catch in your throat as he finally unbuckles his belt, pulling down his pants just enough that his throbbing cock springs out, hitting his sculpted abdomen. Red, and so so angry, soaked in precum. 
He was so…massive. Now, you expected your best friend to have a big dick, but this was ridiculous. He was so intimidatingly long, thick enough that you could feel the slick beading out of your sloppy hole already.
Yeah, you definitely weren’t making it out alive. 
Satoru sees it too, of course, because his cock twitches furiously. A low hiss leaving those pretty pink lips before he’s spitting on your quivering cunt. Once. Twice. 
And you know that if this shameless bastard could use six eyes to find your g-spot, then he could’ve done the same for this. But, no, he lets some of it miss, splattering against your inner thigh, smearing all over as Satoru thumbs in his saliva with your slick. 
God, he was treating you like some object. Wordlessly throwing your legs over his shoulders, dragging his weeping tip down your swollen folds. So fucking filthy. 
And then you feel like you’re been split apart - because Gojo Satoru was unforgiving. As was his aching cock. He’s barely even pressing through the first ring of muscle, and you already feel like he’s pushing all the way into your lungs. 
“T-Toru.” you yelp, glancing down at the way your pussy was stretched so lewdly around his thick cock. Quivering as he keeps pushing and pushing and- no mercy. Absolutely none at all. “Can feel you so deep inside ngh- I don’t think I can…” 
“No no no no no-” he’s panting into your open mouth. Fucking into your heavenly cunt in mindless, shallow little thrusts just to squeeze deeper inside. “Need this. Want this. Always did. God, fuck fuck fuck, you can do it-”
“But-”
God, Satoru can’t help but kiss you - to shut those cute lil’ whines up more than anything, he’s sure he’ll cum right there and right now if he didn’t. 
Because Satoru wasn’t any better. Body bowing into yours, eyes rolling to the back of his head, mouth falling into a delirious oh! as he finally bottoms out. Balls smacking your ass too hard, your pussy too tight, you too beautiful underneath him. 
Blindly, he reaches for the headboard - white-knuckling it so hard that it’s a wonder it doesn’t break. 
It does - and later you’ll find a pile of splinters behind the bed. It’s just that neither of you notice. Too high off the feeling of Satoru’s cock pushing inside you. You’re clawing at his back now, gasping for air. Letting him fold you in half to filthily lick away the tears pooling at your cheeks. 
“Shit- y’got this, my love. You gotta- ah- Breathe-” he can’t even speak properly, sharp tongue so heavy. Eyes glowing with such insanity as he rocks his hips harder into yours.
He was right - you needed to breathe. To finally wrap your head around the fact that this was Satoru - your best friend - the same one that binge-watches sappy rom-coms with you after every breakup. Every. Single. One. Somehow, you wouldn’t have it any other way. 
Both of you were barely-lucid at this point. And he was out of control now.
Funny, how in all his dreams when you were screaming his name - Satoru was always suave, methodical, playing with your pretty pussy like a fine instrument. Right now, he was anything but. Sloppy - like he didn’t have enough time, never would, even in this room where time slowed.
“Don’t you run away.” he grunts at the way you’re so adorably torn between running away from his cock and bucking for more more more- “Waited twelve fucking years for this. N’ m’gonna take it.”
You almost sob at the pressure as he laces his fingers on top of your head to slide you impossibly deeper. Down, down, down. “S’too good, Toru. Wan’ more-”
“More.” Satoru breathes, more to himself than anything. Eyes widening almost comically, a fucked-out smile spreading all over his face. “Y’want more even when you’re filled to-” He traces an invisible line halfway down your tummy. “Here?”
“Yes.” you gasp as he reaches down to toy with your throbbing clit, drawing tight, frenzied little circles. Balls smacking your ass so painfully, thumb pressing down right where his tip was hitting your cervix - as if he used six eyes to see. “Always wanted more. Always have, Toru.”
And you swear you could see something physically snap inside Satoru. Because his eyes glaze over, grin dropping instantly from his face. 
If you weren’t so cockdrunk maybe you’d have caught the way the bedroom lights flicker, the one down the hallway bursting. 
“Always, huh?” he’s muttering, grip on your body tightening like a vice. “Wanted more like me?” Rocking into you so sloppily, cock twitching so painfully as he speeds up. Fingers just as desperate - as depraved as his hips.
And this time, he doesn’t even have to use six eyes to find that one spot. Knowing your body well enough to hit it over and over until you were sobbing. “More more more more- fuckin’ take it then.”
At this point you didn’t know whether Satoru was always this ruthless in bed or you’d just broken him. It felt so good that it was almost scary. And your delirious mind wandered into the thought that maybe the bed would break - and your bones to follow. 
Well, they would have if Satoru hadn’t been using reversed cursed technique. But you didn’t need to know that just yet. 
“Satoru-” you squeal as he only gets more erratic.  “I’m…”
“Close?” Satoru’s grunting, smacking his lips against your own.
It’s laughable, really, that muffled question - because Satoru knew you were close. Losing his fucking mind, actually, at how you were squeezing so hard around him. Balls squeezing so painfully right now, but he wanted you to cum first - needed you to cum first.
“Yeah, so close. Wan’ cum- Ah! Please-”
“Then cum. Fucking cum, wan’ed this so bad.” he’s babbling deliriously. Little sparks of lightning visible even to your glassy eyes, fingers humming with a dangerous little energy that stimulated you so good. “Yeah, yeah yeah yeah fucking cum, wanna hngh-”
And then you are. So sudden and hard that you don’t even realize it at first. Just that you’re seeing stars behind your eyes, blood roaring in your ears. Rocking your hips into Satoru’s like such a slut. 
Oh, if heaven was really then the part of Satoru that can still form coherent thoughts thinks this just might be it. 
Because only the sight of you creaming all around his swollen cock and he’s cumming and cumming so hard that it hurts. Thick, hot ropes of cum that he can’t seem to stop. Doesn’t want to stop, and God he thinks he could cum until you beg and beg and beg it’s too much. Until you’re yelling for-
“Mercy!” you moan, head spinning with how fucking overfilled your pussy was. “Please, Toru-”
Satoru lets out a slight gasp, “Mercy?” Chuckling so cruelly at your dazed nod, “No mercy, my love. None at all.”
And God, it was so fucking hard to look at him too - eyes half-lidded and miles away, flushed and looking like he was anywhere but laid out on a hospital bed just a few minutes ago. In fact, Satoru looked like he was in heaven on Earth as he only milked his painfully hard cock on your snug pussy.
Pretty. Always so fucking pretty. 
And he kept whispering that, over and over in your ear as you both ride out your highs. Oh how he loved you.
Your eyes fly open, and Satoru knew he’d said that out loud. Shit. But, well, with the way you were immediately pulling him to collapse into your arms, he thinks he really doesn’t mind.
“Love you, love you. Love you so much. Always did, always wanted to love you- to fuck you.” You barely even notice him marking down your neck, sharp canines digging into the flesh like he wanted to break something. Hard enough that you distinctly wondered whether he was out for blood. “To ruin you.”
It was oozing out of you, both Satoru’s cum - dribbling down your legs in thick globs, pooling on the overpriced sheets below - and his power. Jolts of electricity running down all the way from your poor, abused cunt to your hazy mind. 
“So do it.” The air was crackling - crackling with intensity and the smell of jujutsu. It was in your veins, in your words as you whisper, “Ruin me. You’re the- ngh- only- one f’me, Toru. Always was.”
The lights go out. All of them - all across Tokyo, in fact. Shining so bright that it was blinding, until they burst. The last thing you see are his eyes - electrified with blue lightning, burning into your brain. 
And then it’s black. 
---
“I’ll be back before ya know it, my love.” he whispers against your forehead, cooing at the way you stir sleepily. “Gotta pest to take care of.”
Taking down that curtain wasn’t the hard part, the hard part was actually fucking regaining his senses enough to do so. 
And now, all cleaned up and fucked to sleep on his bed, you were looking so unbearably delectable that it made some part of Satoru just want to stay behind this curtain. To forget the waiting sorcerers on the battlefield. Saving the world be damned.
Well, no matter, Satoru had time. He was the strongest, right? After all, how could he give you the world if there was no world to give?
“N’ when I’m back, m’gonna kiss ya to death till you go out with me. Till everyone knows you’re unmistakably mine.”
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A/N. GET IT - that unmistakable bit from the panel? 
Plagiarism not authorized.
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wintergrofyuri · 3 months
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"(blank) hates laios!" WRONG WRONG WRONG. SHUT THE FUCK UP
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shuro is just as awkward as laios and it is made So clear he considers him a friend and likes him. he defends him when the canaries start talking shit and actively readies himself to physically fight them so they dont get to him.
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namari also likes laios. she respects him as a leader and also defends him and readies to fight the canaries.
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ive not actually seen anyone claim izutsumi hates laios, but a lot of ppl Are weird abt them. izutsumi and laios' relationship was rocky at the beginning. he struggled to figure out how to interact with her. but by the end, she actively seeks him out to talk with during the lead up to the feast. she hides behind him when falin wakes up. she has already realized shecan do what she wants and does not need to stick around, yet she does. she sleeps near him on the windowsill, waiting with him and marcille for falin to wake up. she has accepted him as part of her life and wants to keep him in it.
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marcille does not hate laios. let me say this again.
Marcille Donato Does Not Hate Laios Touden.
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marcille Loves him. in a platonic, familial sense. laios returns this just as readily. she yells at him. she whacks him. she tells him whats on her mind. she uses healing magic to ease his pain during the parasite fiasco. she reattaches his leg when he loses it. she teaches him magic. she lays her head on his corpse and cries before reviving him. she launches herself at him two times, when the canaries interrogate them and when he talks her down in the tower. he is a comforting presence to her. she trusts him, she cares about him, she worries about him, she imagines him as a big fluffy dog that loves and protects her. laios is her rock when falin is taken from them time and time again. and she tries to be his as well. she whole-heartedly, unconditionally, loves and trusts laios.
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chilchuck does not hate laios. laios pays him his rates, no questions asked. laios trusts and respects chilchuck's job as a lockpick. laios does not see him as a child (at least, i cant think of an instance where he does so). chilchuck states, outright, he sees him as a friend and doesnt want to see him hurt. he actively worries about him as the falin situation gets worse. chilchuck respects laios. he shows almost 0 hesitation in helping get falin back, nor eating her by the end. he does not think of leaving him once, until he realizes he could lose him. chilchuck is cowardly with emotions and prefers to bottle things, so his first instinct was to bolt. he was angry because he was scared of watching someone he cares about destroy himself. laios is his Friend.
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and holy shit. holy Fucking shit. kabru DOES NOT hate laios. kabru has the rockiest start known to man with him, and he Still helps him by occupying the canaries. he warns him about them. he hides the black magic from them just as shuro does. his whole Thing is trusting laios despite himself. kabru has his own baggage regarding other people, just like laios, yet he tries so hard to believe and trust this man. he Wants to. kabru is not very hopeful, but laios makes him Want to be. he states like 3 times he wants to be close to him and sees him as a friend. he stays through the entire feast!! the man who hates monsters, whose biggest trigger is monsters, actively, consciously, Willingly stayed through the entire monster meat feast. all to help his friend get his sister back. he could've left!! the feast was like an entire week!! yet he was there for every single day. he was one of the closest people to the door when falin awoke!! after reuniting with her brother, her friends, the people who knew her the most (plus senshi and izutsumi), the first person she greets is kabru!! he wants to be close to laios, he likes laios, laios is his friend and he cares for him, he wants to meet his sister!!! kabru fucking stays on the island with him as one of his closest, most trusted advisors when he becomes king!!!!! he wants to help him succeed!!!! he wants him to be happy!!!! laios is his friend!!!!!!!!
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im just. people like laios!! laios is a nice guy! he is friendly and cares about people! he is weird, he doesn't understand most social cues, he oversteps boundaries, but they stay beside him, because they like him and he is their friend. he is their friend!!!!! friendship is not all sunshine and rainbows, relationships in general are not sunshine and rainbows. you will upset people, people will upset you, you will get into arguments, things will happen, but at the end of the day, the people close to you like you! they love you! they care for you! they want to work it out and get through it because they love you, but they will feel those emotions first! human relationships are complex and messy and life is complicated. even shows for toddlers know this.
if you truly believe any of these characters hate laios you are worse than a toddler. watch some fucking oobi or something. god. fuck.
take this
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thanks
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cementpizza · 8 months
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Arguing with a straight person about the significance of demi identities is either oddly funny bc they just haven't realized they're demi themself or oddly sad because they genuinely do not understand the difference between sexual and romantic attraction
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AITA for not complaining about my sex/love life?
A bit nsfw. I'll try to keep it vague.
So I (31FTM) came out and transitioned about 5 years ago. My husband (34, cis M) and I were married beforehand. He was extremely relieved, as he had realized he was gay and didn't know how to tell me. It's like a fairy tale if Disney thought we were marketable 💜 just a bit of context to what happened next.
I have a group of friends, straight cis women my age, who knew me pretransition. They were relatively supportive, minus a few confused questions and a couple of comments early on about how hard it was to remember my name.
I was out to brunch with 3 of them (K, S, L, all early 30s/late 20s). L is engaged, S recently got serious with a guy, and K is perpetually single.
We were all chatting and eventually got on the topic of romance. S was complaining that her boyfriend never did the dishes. L laughed and said she had to essentially train her fiance to do certain household chores. K piped up with some sort of "men are the worst" comment, which I just sort of ignored, until she turned to me and said "So what gets on your nerves about YOUR husband, OP?"
I shrugged and said that sometimes he leaves his socks on the floor, but that's about it. K rolled her eyes and said there had to be SOMETHING that pissed me off about him, like "he's bad in bed or doesn't listen to you." I snapped a little and told her that no, actually, I don't care what you say about your partners but mine is actually really great, and I love him. He's great in bed, he's very caring and passionate, he listens to me all the time, and I won't be convinced to shittalk him.
It got quiet and I just decided to leave cash for my part of the bill and leave. I went home to snuggle into my husband's arms on the couch and tell him what happened. He just laughed and said I could shittalk him if I wanted. I don't think he really got why I was so upset.
That afternoon, K texted me and said I really embarrassed her in front of everyone and wanted me to apologize for what I said. I refused and told her that I wasn't gonna apologize because she assumed I didn't like my husband and I corrected her. She called me a bitch and went radio silent. I texted S and L and asked them if they were okay, no response yet.
My husband thinks I should just apologize, but I don't want to say sorry for refusing to talk badly about someone who supported me during one of the hardest times of my life, even if he'd be fine with it. It just makes me feel wrong.
AITA?
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