#the fact that people are okay with will’s love being unrequited actually makes me sick

[zhounauts]

YOU, YN LN, HAVE NEVER EXPERIENCED LOVE especially not the giggly, feet-kicking first love that you’d look back at when you were old, wrinkly, and married. all you got was the sad, wall-punching, unrequited admiration type of love. and it frustrated you. it frustrated you so much. it especially didn’t help when all around you seemed to be happy couples, no matter how disturbing or cute they were. it also especially didn’t help when your childhood best friend, chaewon, got a boyfriend.

so when you woke up today, opening the window to be met with the first snow of the year, that stupid feeling that you had no one at all crept up again. the fact that you would get snow before love, made you feel as if mother nature was flipping you off.

you shut the window and bury yourself back into bed. or atleast you try to, because at that moment your mom busts down your door yelling at you to get up. “nooooooooooooo,” you groan.

“what is wrong with you?” your mom asks, giving you a look. she sighs, before she rips the blanket off from on top of you, leaving you screeching for it back.

“GIVE IT—”

”GET UP!” she yells, shutting you up with the volume of her voice. you can only lay in defeat, before getting up and getting ready for the school day.

school is like hell. as soon as you set foot into the building, fifty more couples appear in front of you. they are all giggling, walking close together, sharing hot packs, making you absolutely sick to the stomach. you always played it off to your friends that you just merely were not interested, and that seeing couples engage in such activities made you feel disgusted.

in reality you wished that you had what they had, being able to laugh, and share secrets with a special someone. you sigh again, even louder this time, eliciting a look from xiaoting, your seatmate.

“okay, what’s wrong?” she asks.

“nothing. . .” you mumble.

“now we both know that’s bullshit,” she answers, “what happened?”

“no it’s just—” you sigh again, and then yelp as xiaoting bonks your head.

“stop sighing!” she exclaims.

“. . .i wanna know what it’s like to experience love,” you whisper under your breath.

“what???”

“i wanna know what it’s like to experience like, requited love,” you say louder, “i always feel like i'm missing out, y'know? and then the people i do end up liking never like me back,”

“you aren’t missing out on anything,” she says, shaking her head, “listen you don’t need a guy in your life to make you feel happy alright? and, also there is no way, no one has ever liked you back?" you groan.

"hanbin, juyeon, mr. lim, so many more" you groan, "man, and now we can add gyuvin as well,"

“MR.LIM!?. wait i can get that. . .” she mutters, "hanbin and juyeon graduated last year. . .and wait. gyuvin!?"

“what?”

"you like him??" you shrug.

"you cannot be serious," she mumbles, "so stupid, both of you. pay extra attention today,"

“huh!??” you ask, "hey why--"

“looks like class is starting, can’t talk,” she shuts you down, you give her a stank eye before turning back to your textbook as the teacher walks in.

by the time lunch rolls around, you still have no idea what the hell xiaoting was talking about earlier. nothing seemed out of the ordinary, you had your normal classes, then during the break went to the snack shop where you did the usual thing. and then you went back to class, and then went to lunch where you were now.

“xiaoting!” you exclaim as she places her lunch tray down, “what the hell were you talking about earlier??”

“wait, are you serious???” she asks.

“what do you mean, am i serious???” you watch as xiaoting shares a look with chaewon and then the rest of the lunch table and they all laugh.

“yn, c’mon,” kazuha giggles, “there’s no way you can't see his feelings,”

“notice what feelings? who's feelings? who is 'his'?” you ask, “guys actually, I have no idea what or who you are talking about,”

“a certain fluffy, brown haired guy?” chaewon asks.

“super tall?” kazuha chimes.

“we always see him at the snack shop during breaks?’ haerin adds.

“that could be a lot of people,”

“NO IT COULDN’T!” haerin screeches, “oh my god yn! how do you not see it?”

“i genuinely do not???” you ask, now getting offended.

“kim gyuvin goddammit!”

“oh,” you pause, “wait what about him?” you watch as your whole friend group seemingly slams their head onto the lunch table, mumbling and grumbling in disbelief.

“what about him!? we literally just said!” chaewon asks in disbelief, “no way yn,”

“no actually, how the hell?” xiaoting asks, sighing “there's no way you don't think he likes you,"

“just, pay close attention yn, you’ll see it,” kazuha sighs.

you’re starting to think that you’re stupid because nothing has happened. you had paid extra attention to gyuvin, but his actions, his teasing, bothering, and bickering were all normal. all very platonic. listen, you loved your friends but them feeding into your sorrow, love-deprived life delusions were not it.

“boo!", someone exclaims, hands on your shoulders jumping up. you yelp and shove the person away knowing who it was.

“gyuvin," you deadpan. he matches your stride, slowing down to walk at the same time as you. he smiles his little smile.

“yn” he copies. it goes silent between the two of you, before he starts, “i was just wondering i—if uhm,” you stare at him in confusion. gyuvin slaps both his cheeks with his gloved hands, and you watch as he shakes his head and mumbles incoherent things. “i was wondering if we—”

“the wind’s messing up your hair,”

“what?”

“the wind’s messing up your hair,” you answer, reaching your hand up and gently brushing his hair back in place and as you pull your hand back, you make eye contact with him. his face is completely rosy and his eyes are widened in a slight panic. you furrow your brows in confusion.

“are you sick? it’s cold right? do you want my hot pack?” you take the hot pack from your jacket and hold it out to him.

“you can’t just do that out of nowhere. . .” he mumbles. you stare at the boy intently, he was not acting strangely. he was acting normal. this was his normal behavior to you. jokes and teasing that were borderline flirting, the usual confidence that you saw he had with his friends, nowhere to be found, his eyes, unable to meet yours, and his constantly rosy cheeks. they were all— oh

your cheeks burst up into flames, not from the cold, but from figuring out what your friends meant. all this time you spent acting upset about your constant unrequited crushes, had led to you not realizing gyuvin’s feelings. you cover your face, embarrassed, before turning around and so that you can run away. gyuvin grabs your arm.

“wait! wait—”

“no!” you exclaim.

“no?’ he asks confused, “are you okay?”

“yes!”

“yn??” he asks, still incredibly confused.

“nothing! nothing! just walk me to the exit!" gyuvin complies, letting go of your arm and walking besides you. it’s silent between the two of you, your revelation making you suddenly incredibly nervous. you’re so lost in thought you almost barrel down into some kids before gyuvin clumsily pulls you back. right into him. you yelp in surprise, and shove yourself away from him.

“woah—” he says, stumbling. “yn??”

he stares at you concerned, eyes wide and confused. you mumble something quietly back to him, “eh?”. you're so flustered all you can do is grab some snow from the ground and throw it at him, leaving him gaping. “exCUSE mE?”

“you're so stupid!”

"why!???"

"you should've just told me you liked me dumbass!"

"wait," he stops, "YOU KNOW!?"

"i spent this whole time thinking that'd no one would ever like me back, and i started adding you to my list as well!" "wait. . .you like me back!?" he screeches, freezing in place. it's silent again between the two of you, before gyuvin buries his face into his hands. he slaps his face again, before looking at you straight in the eyes. "let me be yours," he mutters, and all you do is nod, letting gyuvin take your hand into his, leading you away. and in the frost of the first snow of the year, you had never felt so warm.

a/n IT SNOWED AGAIN RAHHHH! no school today, but school tomorrow and midterms that i have not studied for next week. i will be disappearing so take this and enjoy it !

[roosterbox]

Heyyyyy how about another Steddie thinky thought? You know ‘em, you love ‘em!

This one’s theme: Hanahaki. Yes, the Flower Sickness that makes any unrequited love as actually physically deadly as it feels.

This one’s a bit older than the rest. I posted tiny bits on the discord a while back, and may in fact eventually expand it into an actual story, but for now, this.

Also under a cut because, yet again, my hand slipped, lol. Warnings for, uh, more Steve pain I guess. Sorry about that. Kind of.

Hanahaki AU

Steve loves Eddie. But Eddie doesn’t love Steve (or so Steve thinks…). He has resigned himself to this, to just being friends. Good friends. The only person he tells is Robin, who encourages him but is sympathetic. He gets the Flower Cough. Which grows (heh) increasingly worse as time goes on. And Robin gets even more insistent that he tells Eddie. So eventually Steve just… gives her a half truth/half lie.

He tells her, “Eddie’s not interested in me.” Half a lie, because she takes this to mean that he actually DID talk to Eddie and got rebuffed (he did not). But it’s also half a truth, because that’s what Steve truly believes - that Eddie wouldn’t be interested. No way, why would he? Pick your favorite flavor of Steve Harrington insecurity and insert here.

Eddie, meanwhile, is more than a little distraught. Everyone knows Steve has the Flower Sickness, but every time anyone asks about who it is, he waves them off with “they’re not interested.” And this blows Eddie’s mind because he’s been madly in love with Steve for years now, so how could anyone with half a brain or heart turn him down? In Eddie’s eyes, Steve is perfect.

The sickness gets worse. Steve ends up in the hospital. Everyone is there, waiting on the doctor’s word for when they can go in to see him. Eddie rushes in, scared and sick to his stomach, afraid that this is it. And at the sight of him looking so forlorn, even though (she thinks) he’s the one who caused this, Robin finally explodes.

“You’re a fucking asshole, Munson!”

Eddie, of course, is absolutely clueless. “What the fuck?”

“You think you can- fuck!” She’s angry, she’s stressed, she’s heartbroken, she’s distraught. There are tears streaming down her face. And for a moment, Eddie’s never felt so intimidated. “How can you just show up here like this?”

“Like what? Birdie, can you please start making more sense, because I am at a fucking loss here.”

She gears up for a verbal beatdown the likes of which have never been witnessed before, but then a nurse comes out. Tells them that Steve is okay (relatively speaking of course), and that they’re just making him comfortable now. And that she’ll be back out with the doctor soon to talk about visiting. This update deflates some of Robin’s bluster, and she sinks down into one of the chairs.

Eddie is still confused, but slightly relieved that Steve is alright. For now.

Under his breath he laments, “god, I wish it were me.”

It’s so quiet, but Robin hears him. Of course she does.

“Wait, what?”

He startles, surprised at being heard, and maybe a little nervous about speaking something so close to his heart in front of this ragtag group of people. But, he tells himself, they all love Steve here. So maybe… maybe it’s time to be brave.

“I wish it was me. The person who…” he gestures vaguely. “For Steve. If it was me, this might not-“ He swallows, hard, and looks away. His eyes sting but he’s not gonna cry, dammit.

Robin is just. Staring at him, eyes wide. “Eddie. What do you mean?”

It takes a moment, but he finally looks back at her.

“If it were me this wouldn’t have happened. Because I love him. I love him so fucking much, Birdie. And when I find whoever it was that broke his heart, I’m gonna-“ he clenches his fist. Clenches and unclenches. Perhaps unable to quite articulate the truest depths of his feelings.

Robin, to yet more of his surprise, bursts into fresh tears.

“You are both. Such. IDIOTS.” But before he can ask, again, what the fuck she means, she says, “it’s YOU.”

Eddie’s brain just fucking STOPS. Crashes. Like a freight train with a girder dropped in its track. “Me? What about me?”

“You, you idiot.” She’s up now, crying and shoving at him. But they’re half-hearted at best. And… is she smiling a little? “You, you, you! He loves you too.”

“Loves… me? Rob, you’re not making sense again.”

So she tells him. Everything. Perhaps breaking Steve’s confidence in the process, but if this miscommunication were to cost her best friend - her platonic soulmate - his life? That’s a small price to pay, she reasons. By the end of it, Eddie’s lost his battle against his tears. Dustin is hugging him as he babbles out, “but why would he- How could he think- I wouldn’t have let him-“

The nurse and doctor appear, taking in the scene, but not knowing the finer details of course. They tell the group that they can see him, but only one at a time. “For now,” they emphasize, with small, encouraging smiles.

Through a silent exchange, Robin is selected to go in first.

Steve is sitting up against the pillows of the hospital bed. There are various lines and monitors attached to him. Beeping at a steady, if not quite normal, level. He’s awake, and smiles a bit weakly at her when he sees her.

“Robbie.”

She smiles back.

“Hey dingus. How’re you feeling?” She sits down on the bed and reaches out, pushing the hair out of his face. It’s damp, soaked through with sweat, but she doesn’t mind.

“I’m f-“

“Don’t say you’re fine,” she cuts him off. Gently. Still touching him. Her hand drops to his shoulder and squeezes. “Not after this.”

They look at each other, an entire silent conversation passing between, before Steve sighs. The deep breath causes him to cough a little, but nothing comes up this time.

“Okay. I’m not fine. But Robin-“

She shakes her head. “I love you, you know?”

“I love you, too,” he replies almost automatically. Because he does.

“And,” she gets up, “because I love you, I hope you can forgive me.”

Steve’s expression turns confused. And a bit worried. “Forgive…?”

She backs up. Towards the door. “I’ll be back in a little while. But for now, I think there’s someone else who you should talk to. And who needs to talk to you.” At that, her gaze hardens. “And you better actually talk this time.”

She leaves, and Steve is alone again. He has a minute or two to be terribly confused before the door opens.

Oh fuck, it’s Eddie.

Eddie, who only glances at Steve as he comes in before pointedly looking away. He leans against the door, arms wrapped around himself. It’s the quietest he’s ever been, for as long as Steve’s known him. It’s unnerving.

“Eddie?” Steve asks. “Are you…?” He trails off, unsure of what, exactly, he was trying to ask.

Eddie says nothing. But then-

“You’re a real piece of work, Harrington, you know that?” He sounds angry. Maybe even livid. His voice is practically vibrating with it. Steve focuses on that, missing the undercurrent of tears in the words. For him, this is exactly what he thought would happen. She must have told him. Of course she would. And though he wanted to be mad, he couldn’t blame her at all. If, god forbid, their positions were reversed…

Eddie was talking again. “So you, what, rather die? Rather die than just, oh jeez, fucking say something to me?”

Steve wishes the bed would swallow him whole. He looks down at his hands in his lap, fidgeting. Picking at threads in the linen. His heart monitor had picked up a bit.

Eddie was slowly inching forward until he was right next to the bed. His eyes were also drawn to Steve’s hands. At the IV line affixed to them. At the nails, bitten short. At the bloodstains still lingering against his skin.

“You stupid, self-sacrificing son of a bitch.”

Steve winced. This was it. The worst nightmare he’d had since everything with the Upside Down. Only it wasn’t a dream any more.

“I’m sorry, Eddie,” he whispers. Sorry, he implies, for falling in love with you. It’s okay that you don’t-

“Sorry? Steve you’re-“ Eddie chokes a bit. He sniffles. Steve finally hears the other underlying emotions his friend is struggling with. Is he… crying?

He absolutely is, and wiping furiously at his eyes. Part of him wants to grab Steve by the shoulders, to shake him, to scream at him. To demand to know why. What were you thinking? But then again, he already knows, doesn’t he? Robin told him.

“Why,” he asks, “why would you ever think that I wouldn’t want you?”

Now it was Steve’s brain’s turn to just… stop.

Very slowly, quietly, he whispers out a “…what?”

Eddie’s hands are gripping the bed railing tightly. He itches, how he itches, to reach over and take the other man’s hands in his. To twine their fingers together. But if he does, he knows that he’ll never want to let go again if he can help it. So before that, he takes the scariest plunge of his life. Lover’s Lake has got nothing on this.

“Steve,” he says, their gazes finally meeting, “I love you. I fucking love you, you idiot.”

Steve is shocked. Flabbergasted. Maybe this is a dream, he thinks. Or maybe I’ve finally fucking coughed myself to death. His mouth opens and closes soundlessly for a few seconds, minutes maybe, before finally, he manages to ask, “since when?” He swears he can actually feel the flowery vines in his lungs growing tighter.

Eddie smiles at him through watery eyes. “How long have I known you?”

Steve just fucking breaks. He cries, weeping into his hands, curling in on himself. Can’t breathe, he thinks desperately before strong arms wrap around him. Drawing him in against a solid chest. Eddie hugs him, tucking Steve’s wet face against his neck. He’s crying too.

“It’s okay, Stevie,” he says. “It’ll be okay now.” He hopes that this is true. That whatever fate may be, it doesn’t make him a liar. “I’ve got you. I’m here. I’ve got you, sweetheart.”

[ina-nis]

Today is one of those days that are specially hard to go through alone so... I've been crying and trying to find comfort however I can... but mostly crying.

This is really painful and I'm quite literally too exhausted to fight loneliness or even distract myself for long enough - and no, all the good things don't really help, as they do not address loneliness.

Time and again, in days like today, I get angry at myself for being so stubborn, so unyielding. Whenever I do think about giving up (no dying, just giving up on trying to address this) it makes me cry so hard, as if there were something inside of me fighting to keep going.

I hate this.

I don't want to think about this anymore, I don't want to feel like this anymore. I don't want to love, I don't want to date anyone, I just want it to be gone so I can try and live my life, and maybe get some enjoyment from all other things that make me happy (that get absolutely drowned by all this noise).

But I can't help it, of course I can't!

I obsess and obsess and obsess because that's what I do best! And now I actually know why that happens so I can at least sleep at night knowing it's not my fault.

"Hey, you've done enough. You tried the best you could and you did a good job. You can rest now, you can stop, it's alright. It's okay for you to stop."

I wish someone would tell me this.

Telling this myself does nothing.

New therapist mentioned something about finding a middle-ground but I'm way too exhausted to even try anything anymore.

People drain me and I feel sick to my stomach. These feelings hurt and, to make matters worse, my brain gets absolutely sucked up in so I'm left pretty much helpless to stop for long enough - it always come back, because the main issue remains the same.

When I stop to think about why I can't give up, there's 2 things I see: absolutely terrible people or very dysfunctional ones able to develop and maintain relationships despite it all, so I think "if they can do it like that, how could I not? When I'm actually putting so much effort and money into addressing my issues for the sake of myself and others."

The other thing is because I am able to love at all, although unrequited so far, I am able to experience this big scope of emotions that come with romantic love and more.

I guess one of the main steps into "moving on" from these feelings, from what I've seen, is to move away from love and love-related things, away from romance and so on. It makes sense because they are "triggers" for me.

I was met with an issue though...

A lot of my life and identity revolves around love.

When I embraced my natural eroticism and inclinations, was when I really started recognizing and liking myself.

Romance is a big part of who I am as an individual, independent of others, because I can experience romance by myself.

I cannot imagine a life without these things.

That's probably why I was never able to truly "kill" my feelings, I was never able to move on from them or completely bury them in the back of my mind.

I was never able to come to hate people despite the fact that I tried so hard, for so many years, to become a misanthrope.

I love them, I can't help but love them. Because I love myself I am able to love others too, because I see some of myself in them, and there's some things of theirs in me, too.

So my wish is to be done with feelings that are fundamental to me.

To wish them away is the same as wishing my own life away.

Isn't that ironic coming from someone who is chronically suicidal?

[thranduel]

they wanted mike and el to be together? fine.

they wanted them to have a relationship where they constantly lie and can't be themselves with each other? fine.

they wanted to introduce a storyline where they argue because mike can't say he loves her? fine.

they wanted mike to end up saying he loves her during a monologue? fine.

they could've easily done all of this WITHOUT involving will and messing with his feelings, but they didn't.

they could’ve avoided making will be in love with mike since the beginning, but they didn’t.

they could've given will a different love interest (and i mean a proper, well-developed character who was introduced a long time ago, not some random person in the last season that we barely know) and let him have at least one moment of peace and happiness while being in love, but they didn't.

they could've made mike and el sort out their own relationship problems themselves and actually communicate with each other properly and have a healthy relationship instead of constantly lying to each other, but they didn't.

they could’ve avoided using a gay child’s feelings and heartbreak to push another ship back together, but they didn’t.

they could’ve avoided including will in EVERY single mike and el scene (except their big fight in 4x03), but they didn’t.

they could've made it 100% clear that byler wasn’t happening instead of keeping it ambiguous with so many unanswered questions, hyping it up and teasing it, dragging it out and giving people hope, but they didn't. (and no, mike telling el he loved her doesn’t confirm that byler can’t happen. he lied throughout the entire monologue and only said it because of will’s confession and painting and because he was under pressure and trying to save her. will put a false image of el into mike’s head and convinced him that she needed him and that he doesn’t make her feel like a mistake, but we know that isn’t true. el literally told mike she felt like a monster because of him just a few episodes ago during their big fight when he couldn’t even tell her he loved her while she was crying. then she made the decision to leave him even though owens warned her she might not see him again. el doesn’t need mike, will does. will was talking about himself the entire time in that scene. that’s why mike needs to find out the painting and monologue was from will because it’ll change everything).

they've already done too much now and they can't just suddenly go back and say "haha so we just took advantage of a gay character’s suffering for extra drama and used his feelings for mike as a plot device and turned him into a couple's therapist for mike and el. but guess what? he's going to end up lonely and suffer again, like he does every season, instead of ending up happy with the boy he’s loved for most of his life". nope. absolutely not.

they chose to involve a young gay child who has been suffering his entire life after being abused, bullied, outcasted, excluded, kidnapped and possessed. they chose to make will be in love with mike from the very BEGINNING and then forced him to watch him start dating someone else right in front of him (and to make things worse, mike couldn't even remain a good friend to him?? he completely changed. he started excluding him and pushing him to the side because he can't even be himself with his own girlfriend. this isn't healthy or fair to anyone involved). then they chose to introduce will's love for mike directly in season 4 with will's car monologue, the painting and all the other scenes where they're staring at each other with heart eyes. noah has also confirmed will has been in love with mike since the beginning. it's not a little crush. he's not confused. will byers is gay and has been IN LOVE with mike wheeler since the beginning. he even told him that he will ALWAYS need him. they also chose to use will's painting and feelings for mike as a plot device to force mike into telling his own girlfriend he loves her because he couldn't even say it (or write it on paper) when she was crying and begging to hear it. there was no reason to do all of this unless it’s intentional and going to be brought up again.

if this doesn't end up with mike finding out the car monologue and painting was from will so that he ends up realising his own feelings for him AND we find out he was struggling with repressed feelings and internalised homophobia (which would explain his weird behaviour towards will, like not being able to hug him at the airport), then all of this would be so cruel and unnecessary. it would just be horrible writing too because mike has had no character development at all, constantly lies and contradicts himself and has been reduced to el’s boyfriend. it’s also disgusting if they used a gay character’s suffering and heartbreak for “extra drama” and to force another ship back together.

if they wanted mike and el to stay a couple, they should’ve never brought will into this.

[blipblooopp]

Let It Be Me

Summary: Choi San is many things. The most talented man you have ever seen. Be it on the dance floor or in front of a mic during a gig. He was the kindest person, always holding the door for the people behind him, helping the elderly carry things, even paying for strangers randomly. He got along famously with your parents and even better with your grandparents. He was charming like that, capturing the attention of anyone and everyone who even looked his way. He’s the love of your life, you’re sure of it but he’s also your best friend. Pairing: Boy Band AU!Choi San x F!Reader Words: 5.6k Genre: Angst/Smut

You’ve heard of a thing called platonic soulmates but it’s taken you years and years of watching Choi San grow to realize you weren’t. Well, you hoped you weren’t. Everything about him made your body erupt into a fire.

San looked at everything with adoration, finding all the good in life, including you. It was a double-edged sword, really. It made you feel special… important. But you could barely concentrate when his eyes were on you.

It didn’t help that he was gifted in pretty much everything; it made you nervous beyond belief. He’s pretty much perfect and as much as you wanted to be with him, you knew the odds of him liking you back were slim to none.

You’ve come to terms with it for the most part. It hurt to see him flirt with girls in front of you, hurt even worse when he started dating this awful girl named Areum. She didn’t give a fuck about him, actually. She barely responded to his calls and texts, going as far as blocking him one time. They fought nonstop. Every time you two hung out, San had a new dilemma to talk about. For some reason, San wouldn’t break up with her.

You had asked him after a night of you two getting drunk together, after another night of listening to his relationship problems. He laughed dryly, taking another sip of his beer, “I love her so much.”

Apparently, it was his “slow-motion” moment. He and his band had been wrapping up the night with their last song, soaking up every second they could have. Halfway through the song, San had noticed Areum in the front row. You were there too so you noticed the look on his face. A look you had never seen him make before. It basically tore your heart out when he told you that he couldn’t get “that beautiful girl” out of his head. She ended up becoming a dedicated face in the crowd so San asked her out.

You would’ve thought they were soulmates from the way they looked in the beginning. Lord only knows how they got to this point. How you got to this point, with San crying in your lap.

It was 10:00 pm when someone started banging on your door. You were enjoying a cup of coffee but you almost had a heart attack at that moment. You opened the door with shaking hands, hoping that whatever killer was on the side wasn’t actually a killer. Instead, you saw your best friend, with swollen red eyes, sniffling.

“Oh my god, San! You scared— what’s wrong?” You immediately dragged him in, locking the door behind you. He sniffled again as he slumped into your couch. You took a seat next to him and took his hand in yours. “Was it another fight?” You knew it wasn’t. In all the fights you had heard, San never cried.

“She was cheating on me… this whole time.” He hiccuped as he talked.

“That bitch.” You said under your breath. You held onto his hand a little tighter, trying to contain your anger.

“I went to her house tonight because she wasn’t responding to me again. I wanted to talk it out with her but she opened her front door in her underwear with some motherfucker sitting on her couch!” Although you had many words to say with Areum, you were speechless in front of San. What were you supposed to say? All you could do was scoot back on the couch and guide San's head onto a pillow in your lap.

“It’s gonna be okay.” You ran your fingers through his hair, “You can cry for as long as you want.”

And cry he did.

____

The next morning was hard. You woke up on your couch sitting up-right with a terrible case of stiff-neck. That’s not the only reason it was hard. No, it was worse seeing San still laying on your lap. He was wide-awake, dark eye bags contrasting against his face. His eyes stared deep into the ceiling.

“What’re you thinking about, Sannie?” You started to run your fingers through his hair again and watched as his eyes fluttered shut, his body instantly relaxing.

His eyes opened again, “Why didn’t she love me?” You couldn’t respond, not that he let you. “I knew we weren’t perfect, knew she wasn’t perfect… but we always made it through the end of the day. I can’t believe she would do this to me.”

“It’s her loss.” You finally said. “You don’t need her anyway. It was her decision to cheat and you had nothing to do with it.”

San didn’t say anything after that, just continued to stare at your ceiling.

___

The first few weeks were the hardest for sure. San had spent most of them at your place, barely leaving even for band practice. When he did practice with the guys he would leave early, only strumming a few chords on his guitar before deciding that it reminded him too much of Areum.

“He’s been really out of it.” Yunho, the bassist commented one time. San hadn’t even played that day. He just sat in the corner for an hour. You stayed behind for a few minutes and told San to wait in the car. You wanted to catch up with the other band members.

“Can you blame him? That bitch was… well, a bitch.” Wooyoung shot back, setting his drum sticks down.

“How has he been holding up?” Hongjoong asked.

You scoffed, “Have you seen the man? I don’t even think San’s there anymore! God, if I see her, it’s on sight!”

You did your best to help him through those weeks. You had been through a few hard breakups in the past so you understood that the early stages were the worst. You even used up all of your sick time to stay home with him. You had never seen him this gloomy. At one point, he went through five pints of ice cream in three days.

____

It took three months for San to be even remotely okay. He started going to practice more and this time, he actually played. You couldn't say you were surprised. San loved playing with the band and you knew it was probably the only thing that would bring him out of his funk.

"You look good, man!" Hongjoong slapped his hand on San's back playfully and for the first time in months, San had his usual dimpled smile.

"I feel good." He replied, setting down his guitar and taking a seat next to you on the beat-up couch. "It's thanks to you, y/n"

Your eyes widened. "Me?"

He nodded. "You stayed up with me, didn't go to work, even made me breakfast when you knew I didn't have the energy to get off your couch."

You couldn't lie; your heart was racing. All you could do was stare back into his eyes with a goofy smile painted on your face. San put his hand on your thigh, skinship being normal between you two, especially within these past months.

Your friendship remained just that, a friendship, for the next month. You were okay with this, though. At least you had a small sliver of hope now that he was single. That tiny bit of hope that he'd love you back was able to tide you over.

Until one night.

San had come over for your weekly movie nights, an event you had been doing since high school but stopped doing because his ex got jealous easily. You tried calming your nerves as you sat next to each other, his arm wrapped around you.

You were so close you could smell his cologne. It was intoxicating. Maybe it was the fact that he was newly single now, filling up your thoughts even more recently, but his entire presence was overwhelming tonight.

“You alright, beautiful?” Since San was single now, his usual playful flirty side was coming out again. Just like everything else about him, you had a love-hate relationship with it. It doesn't mean anything. You had to remind yourself. He talked like this with everyone, especially when he wanted to get a rise out of his bandmates.

You gulped when you looked up at him. How could a man have this effect on you? You would think that after years of unrequited love, you'd be able to at least contain yourself. “Yeah.”

San gave you a dimpled smile, shifting his gaze to a piece of your hair, moving it behind your ear. Your mouth parts, probably to say something but you can't be too sure right now. If someone walked in, they would think you guys are about to kiss. Maybe you are... you want to kiss him.

With your heart pounding in your ears, you slowly lean forward, keeping your eyes on his lips. They look too good not to look at but you're also scared of seeing the look in his eyes, the potential disgust that might be taking over at the thought of your lips touching his.

Everything is moving in slow motion. From your hand caressing his cheek to the moment your lips make contact. He's stiff against you and you can only imagine that it's because he's uncomfortable. You start to pull away, dreading the awkward conversation you're about to have but San is quick. His hand grips your thigh and he's kissing you back with fervor.

Your head is spinning, Is this really happening? These sparks you're feeling all over your body, does he feel the same way? You push away any thoughts you're having, trying to focus on keeping up with San. You needed to enjoy this moment. Without realizing it, you swing your leg and straddle San's lap. He groans underneath you but before you can question it, he's giving you a reassuring squeeze on your waist.

You don't want to take the initiative of going further, but man, your hands are burning to touch his bare skin. Your hands, instead, rest on his shoulders, gripping and releasing every few seconds. As if he was reading your mind, San's hands move to the hem of your shirt and for the first time, you break the kiss.

The second your shirt passes your head, San's moving to kiss your neck, occasionally sucking to leave hickies that are sure to last a whole week. You're breathless, taking this as a sign to take off San's shirt. Your hands are all over each other, San's going from your cheek to unbuttoning your jeans, your fingers feeling his abs contract under your touch.

It feels like a flash. San suddenly laying you down on your bed, both of your clothes littered behind you on the floor, his lips still on your neck. It's only when he's about to insert himself does he stop and look at you with dark eyes. He doesn't give you enough time to question it, pushing himself inside you. You both gasp at the feeling.

"Fuck, you're so tight!" He grips your hip with one hand, the other holding the headboard like his life depends on it. He feels like he'll burst any second.

You're right there with him though, the mere feelings of this moment making you sensitive. "You're just big. Holy shit!"

It takes him a second, taking a moment to give both of you a moment to adjust before he moves inside you. You can't contain the sounds coming out of you as he hits all the right spots with ease. You couldn't have pegged San to have this big of a dick, yet here he was.

Before you can realize it, your hands are finding purchase on his back and your nails are sinking into his skin. He hisses above you but his thrusts get harsher and the moaning in your ear doesn't get any quieter.

"You feel so good... so warm and tight for me." He's practically whimpering into your neck. You try to keep your cool, trying not to cum so fast but he's hitting that spot inside you with ease.

Your nails dig into him deeper, "S-san," You stutter out. "Close... so close."

"I know... but you gotta wait for me. Can you do that?" His thrusts get faster and deeper, you don't even comprehend his words properly.

"Can you do that for me, pretty girl? Be a good girl for me?" He's using both hands to clench onto the headboard now, the force making it harder to not cum. You just nod and wrap your legs around his waist. San is drilling into you with so much force and he's hoping that the bed isn't going to break. After a few more thrusts, he starts to get sloppy, and your vision's crossing.

"Alright, beautiful. Cum for me." He grunts out, trying not to cum at the feeling of you clenching around him. You finally let the waves of pleasure course through you, seeing stars. If you were lucid, you most definitely would have been embarrassed by the noises coming out of your mouth and your pussy.

With a loud sigh, San pulls out of you and releases onto your stomach. Almost immediately, he’s up and cleaning you, you’re body’s too tired to do anything but lay there. You’re surprised, because instead of leaving, San lays next to you, even going as far as pulling you close to him.

You have so much on your mind but you're too tired now.

____

This goes on for weeks. Sometimes you would hang out. Sometimes do other things. Everything happened so fast. The friendship that you held so dear had become a muddled mess of lust and confusion. You obviously still had feelings for San but you had no idea where he stood.

You'd never even talked about the first time you guys had sex. When you woke up he was gone and when you saw each other again, he acted like nothing had happened. You didn't want to be that clingy girl who expected a relationship so you never brought it up. Now you're in this endless cycle of sleeping with each other and never addressing the elephant in the room.

What didn't help was how San was acting differently. He was much more touchy with you, always having to touch you in some way whenever you were together. His hand on your thigh, holding your hand, arm around your shoulder, he did it all. Before the incident, you would have considered him touchy but that's nothing compared to him now.

Your hangouts started to become more elaborate as well. You guys were actually going out to movies instead of watching Netflix at your house. Small coffee shop hangouts started becoming intimate dinners. It was like you guys were dating. These dates gave you hope that he would eventually open up and ask you out properly but you didn't want to force it out of him. So, you just decided to go with whatever he wanted.

"Let's go ice-skating." The handsome man suggested his left-hand steering and his right hand on your thigh.

"You know I can't ice-skate." You deadpan, getting distracted by your fingers playing with his.

He glances at you with a honey-sweet smile before bringing his eyes back to the road. "I can teach you, ya know."

"Please, you just want to see me fall so you can laugh at me."

"That too."

San taught you how to ice-skate for maybe ten minutes. After that, he decided that it would be best to let you learn through trial and error.

"San, I'm literally gonna fall on my face!" You cried, your legs shaking as you attempted to walk on the ice.

"You're doing great. Just try skating to me." He held out his hand for you. Every time you got even remotely close to him, however, he would slowly start backing up. You were struggling around the rink but he made sure to sprinkle in encouragements so you wouldn't be too mad at him.

Just when you thought you were doing good, you got too cocky and propelled yourself towards San, wanting so desperately to close that gap. Your feet weren't pointed straight enough causing your left skate to hit your right, tripping you onto the ice.

"Holy shit, y/n! Are you alright?" San appears in front of you with seconds. Helping you up with ease. Your knees ache and you could feel the bruise forming on your hip.

“Did you not see me eat shit?” You bark out, now gripping his arm for dead life.

“I did but it’s always polite to ask.” You slap his arm playfully as he guides you off the ice and onto the benches. “Are you actually okay?”

You shook your head and pouted like a child. San chuckled to himself, seeing right through you. Instead of saying anything, he pecked your lips innocently and took a seat next to you. It was the first time he’s kissed you in public which only confused you further. Is he doing this on purpose? You really had to ask him.

You’re too lost in your thoughts to see San staring at you. It’s not until he’s moving a piece of hair out of your face that you’re snapped out of your thoughts. You jolt slightly and hum at him in response. He just shakes his head and returns his gaze to the people skating.

It was your turn to stare at him, to memorize his features for the nth time. He’s just as beautiful as he was two seconds ago and the butterflies are still strong. You open your mouth to question him about your relationship, finally building up the courage just when…—

“San? Is that you?” You freeze. Her, you think. That manipulative bitch.

“Areum?” San stands as if he’s been caught doing something bad like a child. She offers him a warm smile, completely disregarding you as always. You feel like you did during the concert. His eyes are no longer on you… but trained on her. You feel that distance he created on the ice growing bigger and bigger.

“What’re you doing here?” The man asks, still shocked to see her.

“Ah, I was just walking around.” The nerve of this girl to act like she didn’t do anything wrong. “What’re you doing here?” Her eyes land on you but she quickly looks back at him.

You stand this time. “We’re…” Don’t say it. Don’t be petty. Don’t say it. Don’t say it. “On a date.” You entwine your arm with San’s.

Areum’s lip twitches in annoyance. “Oh?” She quirks a brow and glances at San. ��Is this true?”

San freaks out without thinking and shakes his arm from yours. “No!— I mean like a friendly date, sure. We’re just hanging out like old times.”

There’s your answer.

His ex smiles with victory at your defeated state. “Well, we should catch up, San. I know we ended things on a bad note but I think we should talk.”

The car ride home was awfully silent. Usually, they were filled with laughter and off-key singing but tonight, you gave San short answers in his poor attempt to talk. When you entered your apartment, you told him you were going to bed early and that he should lock up when he leaves.

Instead, you feel his warm body climb into your bed and hold you at 12 am. As always, you didn’t tell him to leave. Because, as always, you couldn’t say no to Choi San.

____

You wake up and San's not next to you but there is a text.

San : Sorry I didn't want to wake you but I left to go to practice. It'll probably end late today so if you feel up to it, come hang out. :)

Should you? Maybe it's just better if you pretend like nothing happened. Obviously, that's what he's doing. Besides, it’s not like his bandmates gave you false hope just to reject you in front of their ex. You end up going to the practice, a huge lump in your throat. If you brought up the situation, you're sure that whatever you guys had would be over the second you said anything.

Jongho, the lead singer, greets you with a smile and a nod in your direction as he warms up.

"y/n!" Wooyoung calls out, getting off of his drum stool and engulfing you in a hug.

You giggle on command, loving his enthusiasm. “Wooyoung, why do you always act like we haven’t seen each other for years!”

He smiles and whispers, “Don’t tell the guys I told you, but you’re like… our muse!”

You roll your eyes and pull away from his chest just to look at him, “I think you’re the only one crazy enough to even consider that.”

Wooyoung lets you go completely and returns to his drum set, you follow suit. “Maybe but you’ve been our number one supporter since day one! Plus you’re beautiful and beauty inspires art, does it not?”

Laughter erupts from you again at his cheesiness and your feel an arm wrap around your shoulder. You didn’t have to look to know who it was, the signature cologne giving him away.

“What’s so funny?” San’s smiling but you can tell there’s something different in his tone.

“Just exposing how important y/n is to the band.” Wooyoung sends you a playful wink, your cheeks burning slightly. San forces a laugh, something you don’t notice, before sitting you down on the couch.

After practice was over, you waited outside of the room for San so you could go back to your place. That wasn't the original plan but San insisted. The chilly air made you wrap your arms around yourself, internally scolding yourself over not bringing a jacket.

Wooyoung was the first to come out, fishing his lighter out of his pocket. He wasn't the only cigarette smoker in the group but he was definitely the one that smoked the most. He grinned at the sight of you, resting his hand in his pocket instead.

"Why're you waiting out here? It's cold as hell."

"Yeah... But I didn't want to get in your guys' way." You rubbed your hands up and down your arms trying to create heat. Wooyoung took off his jacket and wrapped it around you without hesitation. "A true gentleman." You remarked.

He put his hand on his chest, his face contorting to look hurt. "I've always been a gentleman. Even when I'm freezing my ass off."

Your eyes widened, ready to give the jacket back. "Woah there, missy. I gave it to you for a reason. We don't want our muse to die of hypothermia." The joke makes you laugh lightly. "You waiting on San?"

You nod, staring at the ground and rocking back and forth on the balls of your feet. “It’s been a lot of waiting recently.” You accidentally confess.

“Uh oh.” He leans against the wall. "I noticed something was different."

"What do you mean?" You hear your heartbeat through your ears and you find it hard to breathe all of a sudden.

"You guys are a lot closer... You guys are best friends, sure, but the air's been different between you two. He still doesn't notice how you look at him."

You scoff, "That obvious, huh?"

"To everyone but him, it seems. Can I be honest?" Wooyoung rolls to face you. You nod, now looking at him. "Unless you tell him how you feel, you'll be doing nothing but waiting on him."

"But our friendship-"

"If you're about to tell me that it's enough for you, so help me God, y/n, I will kick your ass." You laugh for the first time since the conversation started. You understand what you have to do. You guys have already crossed so many boundaries and clearly, he feels something for you, right?

The door to the practice room swings open and this time it's Yeosang and San. San's bright smile seems to falter as his eyes instantly land on the jacket that's wrapped around you. His eyes shift between you and the drummer then he strides to you, grabbing your wrist.

"Let's go?" You don't have time to answer. San's practically ripping the jacket off of you and throwing it at Wooyoung who barely catches it. This time, you don't miss the change in his tone. He replaces Wooyoung's jacket with his hoodie, not saying a word as he puts it on you.

Just like the night before, the tension in the car is thick but unlike last night, it's you who's trying to spark a conversation. San's knuckles are turning white as he drives and it's starting to worry you. You've never seen San this upset before and you're still trying to place the reasoning. Was it jealousy?

You pull up to the house, expecting him to follow you like he always does but he doesn't. Instead, he leaves the engine running and his eyes on the street. For some reason, this sets you off. This man had the audacity to pull away from you, act like you were just a friend in front of the ex that cheated on him, but gets jealous over you casually talking to another guy?

You scoff and unbuckle your seatbelt, stepped out of the car, and slammed the door shut. San was feeling extra temperamental tonight. He couldn't understand why he felt like this either. Maybe he was looking for a fight. He turned off the engine and followed you inside. Before you could close and lock the door, he stepped into your house.

"What is your problem?" You asked venomously.

"What is your problem?"

"I didn't have any problem until you decided to get all confusing!" You dropped your tote bag on the floor, turning to face him fully.

"I'm confusing? Are kidding me?" He huffs out, running a hand through his hair in frustration.

"Actually, I'm not. You've been driving me nuts since we started hooking up. I'm over it!" His lip twitches into a sarcastic smile. "What the fuck was that with your ex? You completely pushed me aside. She treated you like shit, remember? She cheated, she lied, and she manipulated you. Do you want to get back to-"

"You're not my girlfriend, y/n!" He cut you off. "God, it's like you don't know your place." Tears pricked your eyes but you felt more angry than sad. Angry, you've never felt this way with San before. You're experiencing a lot of firsts tonight. San immediately realizes what he said, how hurt you were. He took a step closer to you but you put up your hands, putting up your boundaries for the first time.

"No, you're right. It's not like you hold my hand wherever we go or put your hands on my waist in public. You don't smile at me sweetly during dates. We're not completely vulnerable with each other, telling each other things we'd never breathe to others. It's not like we fuck almost every day! Do friends do what we do? Please, enlighten me. What's my place?"

"I'm sorry, y/n. I shouldn't have-" You're full-on bawling now, sucking in breaths where you can.

"I can't believe I've loved you for so long. I've torn my heart out for you and you just... you just throw it back at me like it's nothing!" His mouth opens but nothing comes out, instead he wraps his arms around you. You react once you feel him, trying to fight him off but he's stronger, trying to calm you down by hugging you.

You're screaming, all the feelings you've held inside bursting out of you, "Why can't you let me in?" You start to pound on your chest even though you know you shouldn't. You don't even notice that he's crying too. "Why can't it be me for once? Let it be me!"

"I'm sorry," He coos. You couldn't hold yourself up anymore, your feelings making it hard to focus. San catches you though, guiding you to sit on the floor.

San does his best to understand what you're saying through your sobs. He wants to understand what he's feeling. He thought he was doing this to get over Areum but why was he doing all the other things? He could've just stuck to the bare minimum but he didn't. Better question, how had he not noticed your feelings?

San was so caught in his thoughts that he hadn't noticed you had cried yourself to sleep. He was holding your head to his chest and he sighed, finally relaxing a bit. He couldn't really relax though, his mind still processing what you had said. He carried you bridal style to your room and thanking God that you had exhausted yourself.

San tucked you in and, after some hard debating, decided to lay in bed with you. He made sure that he wasn't touching you even though he knew he was going to leave before you woke up. He sighed to himself.

Even as you slept you were beautiful and he beat himself up for only now noticing how exhausted you looked. The man never understood why he was so willing and ready to sleep with you. He could acknowledge that there was steaming sexual tension but he never thought it would get this far. Nevertheless, you guys were in this situation; the very foggy area between friends and more.

Is this how you felt, absolutely terrified? You guys certainly couldn't go back to being friends after everything that's happened between you two. San's body started to shake as he silently cried. He couldn't even comprehend how much pain he's put you through these last few months.

____

You're not surprised to find your bed empty the next day; you wouldn't be surprised if San had sent you a message ending your friendship and promptly blocking you. You stare at your ceiling with tears already prickling your eyes. You weren't going to check your phone for texts. You just went to work.

The day went by fast, your boss giving you plenty of work to distract yourself. You were doing just fine until you pulled up to your apartment to find Wooyoung waiting to knock on your door.

"Wooyoung?" The man turned around, almost like a deer in headlights.

"Oh- Hey!" He quickly put his hands in his jean pockets. You walked to your door silently, unlocking the front door and inviting him in.

“What can I help you with?” You try to be casual even though all you’re thinking about is San and how you know Wooyoung’s here to soothe whatever problem you guys are having.

“I’m gonna cut to the chase. Talk to San. It’s only been a day of you two fighting and all of us are tired of him sulking.”

“What are you even talking about?”

“He came into practice looking all down and he didn’t talk to any of us. He just went through practice barely saying ten words throughout the whole thing.”

"How do you know this has something to do with me?"

“… Do I look blind to you? Everyone knows something’s going on between you two.” Wooyoung sighs and runs his hands through his hair. “Look, I don’t know what happened but I’m sure it was probably his fault. I’m not saying you should forgive him right away but just talk to him. Please?”

——

So now, here you are, outside his door. You took in a deep breath before knocking hard on his door. You couldn’t muster the courage to ask if he was home but there was no practice so you hoped for the best.

The door unlocked within a few minutes. “y/n?”

“H-Hi,” You stuttered out, feeling the weight on your shoulders get heavier. “Can I come in?”

San gestures you inside and you take a seat on his couch. There’s an awkward silence when he joins you and you can’t recall any other time it’s been like this. It was so easy to talk to San before but now you can’t even form a sentence.

“So—“

“What’d—“

You said at the same time.

“You first.” San breathed.

“I just figured we had a lot to talk about.”

"Right..." He brushed off his legs with a sigh.

"I like you, San- actually, I'm in love with you. I've been in love with you for so long and we slept together and it got messy. We've never talked about what we were after that night. You just made me a rebound and I turned the other way..."

His eyes burnt into your face and you were too scared to meet them. "I'm sorry. I never meant to put you in that kind of situation. I shouldn't have been so selfish. I didn't think about the way you were feeling."

San's warm hand grabs yours. "I'm so sorry that it's taken me so long to see how you feel about me. I'm so sorry I said that you didn't know where your place was. Your place..." He takes a big deep breath, making you look at him, "Your place is right next to me. I lost you for one day and in that one day, I've realized what you really mean to me. I'm in love with you, y/n."

He places his hand on your cheek, wiping away a tear you didn't even notice. You're falling apart at his touch but you were so happy that he felt the same way and- Oh my god! Choi San was in love with you!

"You just said you were in love with me." You breathed, a smile breaking out on your lips.

"I did, didn't I?" He chuckles, closing the distance between your faces. Your breath hitches. "Are you going to give me a chance to love you for real this time?"

Your heart is going to burst and you don't really give it much thought.

"Yes."

[spicysoftsweet]

A Thorn In The Side - Gojo x Reader

Summary: Infatuation enduring from high school is more of a problem than you or he think (~3.4k words).

Warnings: fem pronouns, fem!reader, noncon, kidnapping, yandere, wlw mention, gojo is a pos

A/N: Part of @suedebunn​‘s Hanahaki collab! 

When the strongest jujutsu sorcerer to have ever lived wakes up in the early am with the sensation of thorns scratching his throat and fullness in his stomach, he’s baffled.

Even more so when he doubles over in bed to cough profusely to the point of near emesis, shocking for a man who rarely gets sick. He stares blankly at a pillow covered in droplets of flecks of red, and his eyes widen with trepidation, until he realizes those large drops strewn across his bed come from flowers rather than blood.

He must be dreaming, Gojo Satoru tells himself, but the satiny feel of the scarlet petals between his fingertips is very real.

Or perhaps a curse.

“So you expect me to diagnose you over the phone?” 

Shoko pulled a drag of her cigarette as though for dramatic effect, blowing it out with a sigh, but continued to listen. She had to be up early anyway and ignoring Gojo would only make him more annoying in her experience.

“So what are your symptoms again?” she asked.

“Apparently my insides are trying to match my beautiful outsides~” he sang.

Shoko rolled her eyes, and as though he could see her, Gojo laughed loudly.

“In all seriousness, I’m turning into a garden. Coughing up flowers apparently.”

“Coughing up flowers, huh?” She leaned a little further against her balcony, her eyes setting on the early morning sunrise she could view from her high rise apartment. “Do you think it’s some type of curse?”

“It’s… different,” he replied, somewhat noncommittally. “I don’t think it’s cursed energy, actually.”

This was unexpected.

“What else do you feel?”

“Uneasy…”

It was Shoko’s turn to laugh. An interesting choice of words coming from him.

“Any ideas?” Gojo insisted.

“I mean, it could be some kind of undetectable curse. I’d know if I got to see you… How does your heart feel when you cough up the flowers?”

“It races.”

“Your mind?”

“Also races… lightheaded.”

“Any thoughts?”

“None.”

“As expected.” she teased, laughing again until she realized that for once, Gojo was silent on the other end of the phone. She scratched her head, then ran her fingers through her fingertips.

“Come in at 2pm today, okay? Don’t be late.”

---

“Well, you’re right,” Shoko stated, stepping back from the examination table, and crossing her arms as she set herself down on a stool to formulate her assessment. 

Her friend, already graced with the palest of color palettes, did actually look ill, dark circles prominent enough to match hers marring his porcelain skin. He sat, legs spread apart, and leaning onto the weight of his hands besides him, raising an eyebrow quizzically..

“It’s not cursed energy, alright,” she said, with a sigh. She stretched out her hand.

“You brought the sample, right?” 

Gojo, uncharacteristically a bit listless, tossed her the bag of vomited petals from this morning, covered in now dry saliva and other fluids. Not batting an eyelash, Shoko slipped on a pair of gloves and felt inside the bag, petals crumbling at her fingertips.

Definitely not cursed energy. She placed the bag on a disorganized counter behind her, making a mental note of scrutinizing it further under a microscope.

“Ideas?” Gojo asked after he’d decided that the time he’d given her to think was enough. It turned out the idea of being sick irritated him more than he expected. 

The very idea of being vulnerable made him slightly nauseous.

Shoko let out a chuckle that sounded more nervous than she had intended.

“My only other thought is Hanahaki disease.”

“Hanahaki?” Gojo repeated.

“Yeah,” she stated. Crossing her legs, she relaxed into her stool further as she watched the young man carefully. “Who’s the unlucky one?”

“You mean?”

“Who’s the unfortunate soul you’re in love with?” She asked again, waiting for his response. The truth was that she was quite shocked at the idea of Gojo being afflicted with Hanahaki, that he of all people could have such a pure, destructive form of love given his track history.

She’d known him long enough to know that his body count was near ridiculous.

He tilted his head, then burst into laughter.

“Myself, duh.”

“Well, auto-Hanahaki isn’t a thing, but I suppose if it was, you’d be the one to be afflicted with it.”

She decided not to press further. “Whoever it is, I’d recommend you settle your feelings as soon as possible,” she added. “People don’t usually die from this but you look surprisingly like shit so I’d be careful.”

Gojo ran a hand through his hair, hopping off the table and pulling back on his shirt.

Settling his feelings may be more complicated than either of the two of them expected.

---

You were in the middle of your drive home when Shoko’s name finally flashed on your dashboard. Grinning, you picked up on the car speaker, mischief in your voice.

“It’s 7:03 and you promised me you’d call at 7 sharp, babe. What do you have to say for yourself?” 

“You’re going to hold 3 minutes against me?” Her sultry voice filled your ears as you made the last turn between the grocery store and your apartment, and you hoped she’d be inside your home waiting for you so that you could actually hold something tangible against her.

“I did say I wasn’t going to tolerate you being late for anything anymore, didn’t I?” You teased.

“Bold declaration for someone who isn’t even home yet,” Shoko retorted.

In minutes, you were walking through the door, arms charged with bags full of groceries for dinner you’d planned to cook together. Shoko greeted you with a kiss on the forehead as you placed them on the counter.

“Did you miss me?”

You did, but you stuck out your tongue at her instead. Her hand intertwined with yours briefly before you separated to unpack items for dinner.

“I promise I’ll be less busy,” she offered as the two of you worked in tandem. Your stomach was already growling, so the sooner you had food on the table, the better.

“It’s no problem,” you replied, and you meant it only half-heartedly. It’s true she was less busy than a regular civilian doctor, but it seemed recently that her clinic was getting overrun with more and more curse victims. Things had been bad recently in the world, you figured. 

You were happy to step back from the world of sorcery, but small reminders like these persisted.

“Did you still manage to fit Gojo in today?”

She had complained earlier today that Gojo always managed to make a bad day worse.

“Mmm,” is what she offered over the sound of chopping vegetables. You understood that she couldn’t say more, on top of the fact that any discussion of Gojo was already a sore subject. It didn’t have to be, and it shouldn’t have been, but this was what it was.

“Hope he’s okay,” you offered, as you turned on the stove.

“He’ll be fine,” she replied, her voice now quieter than usual.

---

The first and last time Gojo fell in love was in the spring of his third year, he suddenly recalled in the middle of a tryst, as an upsettingly subpar blowjob allowed his mind to wander. The young woman whose gags sounded almost theatrical when compared to the amount of pleasure he was actually receiving was starting to get on his nerves, but instead he took matters in his own hands, wrapping her long ponytail around his wrist before guiding the back of her head so she took him deeper.

If she was gonna choke, she should commit to it.

He’d fallen in love with you at first sight. It was a strange feeling for him to immediately be enamored with someone upon first glance instead, having always been the recipient of many an awe-filled or fawning look.

You were a transfer from the sister school, already a rare occurrence, and what was even rarer was the fact that you both had little affinity to jujutsu and little interest in getting better. One could wonder why you even showed up in the first place, much less why you’d moved from one school to the other. 

You’d quit as expected just before graduation, but not before you caught his eye. 

“You’re pretty shitty at this,” he’d remarked, attempting to win you over with humor when he’d been assigned to you for both orientation and possible tutoring. “Of course, you can always ask me for help,” he added, flashing pearly whites at you.

He was the opposite of successful in wooing you.

“I suppose since this comes easy to you, this is just funny, right?” You’d quipped.

Your words cut more than both you and he anticipated, but it didn’t exactly matter. You were not interested in him, the way he was interested in you. 

But Shoko was different.

You became fast friends and upon your departure from the technical college, you’d remained in contact despite withdrawing from everyone else related to magic. 

Even if Gojo tried many times to either bring you back to this world you’d left behind or be part of your new one, you’d rebuffed him every time. Harshly. 

“I don’t know why you expect everyone to worship you,” was the last thing you’d said to him. “I’ve already made it clear that I don’t want to be part of this life,” you’d insisted. “Why would I change my mind just because you asked me to?”

You were right. 

And yet you loved Shoko.

The young woman whose name he’d forgotten’s face was now pressed against his pubic bone and she now began to squirm, slapping and scratching at him like some kind of trapped animal as she struggled to breathe, reminding him that he’d daydreamed for too long.

“Sorry,” he offered, as he released his grip, leaving her to sputter and choke. Looking at her, knowing that she was not you suddenly made him want to choke himself, to bring forth that impromptu garden of unrequited feelings.

He patted her on the back gingerly, and once it looked like she’d restabilized, pulled her in for another kiss. 

If only her lips tasted like yours.

---

Shoko’s hand glided against the curve of your hips, taking in the image of you sleeping softly on your side, facing her. She dipped down to kiss your nose; it was the only time the fact that she had such an issue with sleep benefited her, this ability to almost always wake up before you.

You looked incredibly peaceful while sleeping, and she had to admit this angelic view of you was even better than your features twisted in a pleasured mewl (not that it wasn’t a close battle).

There was a nagging concern in the pit of her stomach, however.

Gojo suffering from unrequited love could be a problem, if the object of his affections did happen to be you. But it had been years ago that he’d pursued you unsuccessfully, why present now?

Why present to her office of all people? Gojo could be inconsiderate, but not to this extent. 

But what if he didn’t know that this was what he was feeling? Suppressed feelings taking root and morphing themselves into the tangible he couldn’t ignore?

She sat up, resting her back against the backboard, the lack of a cigarette between her lips being palliated with the gnaw of her thumbnail. 

It couldn’t be. Not you. 

Please, not you.

---

“Hey, how are you feeling?” Shoko checked in about a week later.

Gojo didn’t share that he’d spent the entire morning in a coughing fit of petals, now definitely streaked with blood, and the entire last night vomiting enough flowers into the toilet that it had overflowed.

He didn’t comment on the entire scarlet sage plants with large green leaves that threatened to sprout from every orifice, not just his throat, but his ears and nostrils, possibly from behind his eyes.

He didn’t know what was next, only that it was getting worse.

The constant fire in the pit of his stomach, the shivers, the chills, the incessant flash of you running through his mind, your name moaned in the darkness, his body drenched in sweat.

The fact that he knew it was because he loves you and cannot find an alternative for you.

The fact that he must have you, and only you.

“Has it gotten better or worse?” Shoko asked.

“I’m fine,” Gojo reassured her, masking the exhaustion in his voice, and she made the mistake of believing him.

---

You awoke in darkness with an icy cold searing into your skin.

It took you a moment to let your eyes adjust to the light and for your body to resume the motor control it had briefly relinquished in sleep before you could reorient yourself. You were laying on ground of some sort, maybe hardwood which implied that you were in some kind of building. 

Your head throbbed viciously as you shifted slowly to a sitting position and you almost expected there to be blood as you ran your hands over the back of your head, checking for injury. But there was nothing, just the normal feel of your hair, and the steady thump of your temples in time with your pounding heart.

Looking around, your eyes soon fixed to the low light, not actual darkness to center on a figure in the center of the room.

You let out a gasp of surprise.

Gojo.

Not only had it been a while and he was the last person you expected to see, he looked stranger than he ever had.

He sat perched on a chair backwards, chin leaning on the top of the backrest. His head was tilted, and he watched you warily but fixedly through eyes that looked sunken into their orbits. Their clear blue was still sharp in the darkness.

His skin had taken on an almost ghostly cast to match his hair, and he was thinner than you remembered as though he had been slowly withering away since the last time you saw him. That was ages ago.

Your limbs froze in anticipation. You didn’t have to be a genius to recognize that whatever was happening or was about to happen was bad.

“Why did you bring me here?”

He stared at you blankly for a moment, unmoving. If he weren’t so extraordinarily fatigued, he would have sat up straighter in his chair and offered you a smile. You were still as pretty as the day he first laid eyes on you, after all. What a welcome sight.

“I guess I missed you,” he responded instead, quietly. 

Your teeth gritted as you flared up in indignation.

“Excuse me?”

He cut you off with a loud, exasperated sigh, mustering the little bit of energy he had left to run a hand through his hair.

“Listen, I thought I’d forgotten myself, but it turns out that I’m being betrayed by my own body.”

As though to add effect, a coughing fit began just at the end of his sentence, and you watched as he spat flowers into the palm of his hand, lowering them for you to see.

“And it seems like you’re the cause of this.”

Your eyes widened as you took in the sight of bloody petals falling through his fingertips and hitting the ground.

He was completely out of his mind.

“I…,” you shakily got yourself up to your feet, not letting your gaze leave Gojo for a second. He didn’t get out of the chair, but he did shift so that he leaned back in the seat, a wicked smile on his face.

“You...?”

“What the fuck are you talking about?” You spat. “Where the hell am I and how did I get here?”

He finally did get up, although it was done in a dramatic, strained movement. He really had lost weight, you noticed, picking up the flash of pale wrists before he shoved his hands in his pocket.

“I know it sounds crazy but apparently, according to your girlfriend, I’m suffering from lovesickness.”

He bared more of his teeth now, looking more like a grimace than a grin by this time. “I didn’t believe it either, but then I started seeing you in my mind every single waking moment.”

In the split second it took for you to blink, he had crossed the distance between you, so that he was now in your personal space, the palm of his hand inappropriately caressing your face, as tender as you’d expect from Shoko.

And you immediately jumped back and backhanded him as hard as you could.

The crack of your hand was loud and exaggerated, reverberating in the room. For a moment, you froze in shock, surprised the slap had actually landed, before shaking out your now burning hand and following up with a hiss.

“Don’t you fucking touch me.”

Gojo’s icy blue eyes glint, demonic in their delight.

“That’s the feisty bitch I remember.”

---

It was nearing 24 hours since you’d failed to reply to Shoko’s text and the normally collected woman was terribly anxious.

She’d stayed at work late, and still, not a single message from you. 

The nagging feeling in the back of her mind returned.

What if it were you?

Gojo couldn’t be that insane, could he?

When she entered your home to find traces of red salvia scattered throughout your home, it only confirmed her fears.

---

“I don’t want to do this either. I mean it.”

It was hard to believe him when he seemed to savor every brush of the lips as he trailed kisses along your inner thighs, spread open with the force of his hands. Gojo had always been deceptively strong, even now, when it looked like he was wilting just as much as the flowers he coughed up. 

Your wrists were bound to a fixed point at the head of a foreign bed, and your ankles to the bedposts anteriorly to prevent you from fighting. Not that you would have been able to fight back anyway, but the severe fatigue permeating his very bones made him less willing to risk anything.

When his lips made it to your center to circle your clit, you writhed in disgust, forcing back the sighs of pleasure that would inevitably ensure.

“Y-you can’t - ah - make me love you…”

Gojo paused the swishing of his tongue to give you a look that reeked enough of apathy that it was almost startling.

“I’m aware, but there’s no harm in trying.”

---

“Where the fuck is she?”

Satoru had the ostentatiousness within him to receive the phone call on speaker, so that you could hear Shoko beg to find out your whereabouts.

“She’s with me,” he replied, calmly to her, holding the phone in one hand and pumping fingers in and out of your slippery cunt with the other. 

By this time, Gojo had gotten tired of your expletives which no longer retained the initial cute charm, so your screams for help were muffled by a gag over your own wet panties shoved into your mouth.

He’d been at this for hours.

There was a pause on the phone from Shoko’s end that sounded like something crashing to the ground, maybe a plate breaking.

Her tone changed immediately.

“P-please don’t hurt her.”

“I’m not.”

He glanced at you who glared back at him with reddened eyes and tear-stained cheeks. You looked even prettier when you were so totally helpless.

“I would never,” he added.

The pump of his fingers slowed but did not stop.

“This won’t fix you,” Shoko warned, almost in a low protective hiss, her own voice breaking. “This won’t fix anything, you bastard.”

He cut off the phone abruptly, and let out a sigh before shifting his attention back to you.

“Where were we?”

---

Maybe if I pretend, he’ll stop?

Or will he continue? Will I just affirm that he won?

His thrusts were relentless, as was the constant tugging at your hair, the teeth sinking into every inch of your skin, the moans and groans whispered into your ears or your bosom.

A violation in every sense of the word.

You were running out of tears.

The fact that it’s pointless, you and he both know it. Your true love knows it, that this is just an excuse to get back at you. For what? Rejection? 

He would die anyway. You would never return his feelings, if there even truly were any. 

He continued to rut into you, and flowers started to stain every inch of your bodies, covering them in a deep scarlet.

Red. Red. Red.

Blood. Rage. Power. Passion.

You probably didn’t need the restraints anymore. You had no fight left in you. 

Just the satisfaction, however small, that regardless of what he did to you, he would still eventually succumb to nature and perish in a bed of putrid efflorescence.

[anashins]

If You're Willing to Kiss || Taeyong

“If you’re willing to kiss, then let’s show him what he’s missing out on.”

During a stupid round of spin the bottle, your crush kisses someone else, but you make sure that he'll regret it very soon.

_____

“Kiss, kiss, kiss, kiss, kiss, kiss!” the people in the circle chanted and clapped their hands simultaneously to the rhythm of their voices.

You watched in rigidity as your female best friend and your crush Jaehyun were about to kiss each other.

Reluctantly, they crawled to the middle of the circle as the chants only increased in their volume the closer they approached the spot until they were awkwardly sitting in front of each other, almost not daring to look into the opposite’s eyes, their cheeks visibly flushed.

At the same time, your heart broke into a thousand pieces.

You hadn’t signed up voluntarily to play this stupid game of spin the bottle as you sure had better things to do on a friday night, like reading or sleeping.

But you couldn’t have said no when Jaehyun had tagged you along to this party as all your friends were coming as well.

At first, you had been excited about it, because wherever Jaehyun went, you would willingly join him as you always wanted to spend as much time with your crush as possible.

After years of having hidden your feelings, tonight you had gathered enough courage to finally make a move.

But now he was about to kiss your best friend, and you felt utterly devastated as you watched how they slowly pressed their lips onto each other.

The people before had only shared light pecks without even touching one another at other parts, but Jaehyun and your best friend did not only kiss longer than required, they also started to put their hands on each other’s bodies, not minding the cheering crowd at all as though they had drifted off to their own world.

You felt sick in your stomach, murmured something along the lines of a hurried apology and excused yourself to the bathroom.

Splashing water into your face, you looked into the mirror while your fingers gripped so tightly onto the sink that your knuckles turned white in the process.

No wonder, you had always felt like that your best friend was a hundred times more beautiful and intelligent than you. Every guy wanted to go out with her, then why not Jaehyun as well?

You had seen the way they turned shy, the way they flushed at each other, and then the way they shared a chaste, yet deep first kiss with 20 other people as witnesses. You may be in love, but you weren’t naive.

If one kiss could change everything, then this had been the kiss.

The kiss he had been supposed to share with you. The kiss you had wanted to save up until it was now too late.

And before the first tears started running, you wanted to go home. Nobody would care anyway.

“Y/n, are you in there?” you suddenly heard from the other side of the closed bathroom door.

It was Taeyong, Jaehyun’s close friend, and the only one who knew about your secret crush.

“Yes, I’ll come out soon, no worries!”

You had forgotten that he was also here, but he hadn’t participated in this round of spin the bottle anyway.

Taeyong only knew about your crush because you had once poured out your heart to him when you were drunk, and until this day, you regretted it deeply as he never failed to miss a chance to tease you about this.

But always, he had kept his lips sealed in front of Jaehyun, and for this, you were grateful.

So of course he would now be the only one knowing about your true feelings after having witnessed your best friend and crush kissing each other.

Yet, you tried not to let any of your true emotions slip as you opened the door and faced him with the brightest fake smile you could pull off.

“Sorry, I just wasn’t feeling well. I think I’m going home.”

“Uh-huu…”

Taeyong inspected you from head to toe, and then decided that he wasn’t satisfied with this answer.

“You sure about this or are you just affected by the clownery Jaehyun has just pulled off?”

It had been a given that you couldn’t lie to him about this topic. Somehow, he must have gotten wind of what had happened. Perhaps, he had also purposely followed you to the bathroom.

You were just asking yourself why.

“Look, Taeyong, I don’t want to talk about it, okay?”

“Lately,” he started, “he has been talking about her a lot.”

You hesitated and gulped. “About… my best friend…?”

Silently, he nodded, confirming your fears and making your stomach churn. It hurt you more than anything ever before, and you were rendered motionless.

“I want to go home,” you then said in the same robotic manner.

At home, you could pour all your feelings out and finally started crying instead of staying at this place where you had to watch them getting closer and your best friend taking the place at your crush’s side that was supposed to be yours.

“Either that or you could stay,” Taeyong suggested.

You frowned. “Why would I want to stay?”

“Jaehyun is an extremely jealous person. If he sees you with someone else, he might regret it and realize that it’s you that he wants.”

“That’s stupid,” you judged and crossed your arms.

“How long have we been knowing each other, y/n?” Taeyong asked. “Long enough for me to know that if you don’t do something now, you will whine about it for ten years, and - no offence - I don’t have the time and patience to hear about your unrequited love for much longer. Either you do something now or you let go of him.”

“It’s already too late,” you commented dryly and wanted to pass by him, but he grabbed you by your arm, making you stop.

“Are these the words of a young woman who had fought her way through the crowd to the first row to see her favorite band up close, elbowing people to the left and right? They’re not! They’re also not the words of someone who had threatened an online seller with an imaginary consumer advice centre when they didn’t want to return her money! And you want to let him go just like that? If there was anything you have taught me, y/n, then it’s the fact that it’s never too late.”

Turning keen-eared, you asked, “So what do you suggest?”

--

Shortly after, you found yourself being part of the spin the bottle circle again.

Of course your eyes hadn’t missed out on the longing gazes Jaehyun and your best friend were throwing at each other while more and more people gathered in the middle of the circle to amuse the crowd with their kisses.

You were angry on the inside, but also full of nervousness as the bottle spun again and Taeyong jumped up, paused, and then reached out his hand to make it stop at the right time.

And the bottleneck was pointing directly at you. You inhaled deeply.

“Hey Taeyong, you wanna kiss her so badly or what?” someone shouted.

Another one added with a laughter, “He’s finally shooting his shot.”

“Shut up, the bottle is pointing at her, so that’s the rules.”

No one complained though as he crawled to the middle and you did the same. It was as though the crowd, your fellow students, actually had been wanting to see you two kiss for a long time, and you wondered whether you were right with your suggestion and why they would think that way.

Taeyong… he had always been there by Jaehyun’s side. He was Jaehyun’s friend, not yours.

Even though he always helped you with homework when you forgot yours. Even though he always handed you water at parties to keep you sobered. Even though he always gave you a ride when you missed the bus. Even though he always made you laugh when you were sad about Jaehyun again.

Even though, in a situation like this, he wanted to help you again.

There were many things Lee Taeyong did for you, yet you had never considered him your friend.

You wondered whether he felt the same way when he leaned in to you.

“If you’re willing to kiss, then let's show him what he’s missing out on,” he whispered only for you to hear. “If you’re willing to kiss, then close your eyes.”

But before you did as you had been told, you threw a last gaze at Jaehyun who looked at you with a mouth slightly agape.

Surprised that it might work, you grinned inwardly as Taeyong’s lips brushed over yours.

It had been so long that you last kissed someone, but from the first moment on, he proved to you that he was indeed a very good kisser.

Taeyong’s lips moved with yours in a very chaste way that had even something romantic to it, and it surprised you, to say the least. It was not even the manner in which Taeyong kissed you that gave you this feeling, but the way he made you feel, the emotion he delivered.

So comfortable, so warm, and raw, and you wondered whether this had been his intention all along or whether this was the usual manner in which he kissed.

So you didn’t wonder when you suddenly noticed him leaning in to you and bending your body to the point of you having to wrap your arms around his neck to look for support so as to not fall backwards, yet you didn’t stop.

Before, you had agreed on fake kissing passionately to rub it under Jaehyun’s nose, but truth to be told, the line between faking and reality slowly started to blur as you genuinely began to enjoy kissing Taeyong.

With his hands now holding onto either side of your waist, he parted your lips to deepen the kiss, and you gladly let him do so.

Even when he started using his tongue, you didn’t make him stop like he had asked you to before in case it would get too much, but you didn’t want him to just yet and pulled him even closer.

You only stopped in the moment Jaehyun interfered with an, “Enough now, it’s only a game!”

But when you pulled away and looked into Taeyong’s sparkling eyes that radiated so much fondness, you wondered how you could have missed the affection he had been holding towards you all this time.

You didn’t care much about Jaehyun’s opinion anymore. Or who he was kissing.

Because if one kiss could change everything, then this had been the kiss for you.

[todourouki]

↲ Back to my BNHA Masterlist

i crash, u crash.

SUMMARY: Being with Dabi wasn’t easy and it probably never will be, but he just wants to make sure you’ll stick around. Or in which Dabi tries his best to show you he cares about you.

AUTHOR’S NOTE: based off i crash, u crash by lil peep! lol honestly idk about this one. but welcome back gift for me, from me, to you <3

PAIRING: Boyfriend!Dabi & Fem!Reader

WORD COUNT: 5,476

WARNINGS: Explicit Content, Dabi is toxic, Angst*, NSFW [18+] including spitting, slight daddy kink, squirting, slight overstimulation.

© todourouki

Sex with Dabi was always the same.

Routinely speaking, whenever he was back from a mission was the time you were expected to be on all fours waiting for his attention. It was always rough too, nothing short of angry and aggressive even if it was a form of “love-making.” He could call it what he wanted to though, he knew the universal term for his type of sex was simply fucking.

The positions and their timings were always on schedule. No more than 3 minutes in missionary— all the time in the world doing everything else. You never really got to touch him, and he’s never let you see his face when he came.

The relationship of hot and fiery sex mixed with an unrequited form of codependency grew to an actual romantic one somehow between the days and nights spent together, yet nothing of the dynamic ever changed. The only thing you could recall is that he groggily asked of you to “finally be his girlfriend since you already acted like it.”

Dabi was a complicated person. You never knew if he planned on waking up and deciding he wanted to be single, and honestly the day he decided to do such a thing wouldn’t be a surprise to you. He was an avid participator in the league of breaking hearts and even if you had more than enough knowledge on this, you allowed his sneaky smirk to seduce you into the sheets of his bed and hours of his days.

You eventually found yourself moving in, figuring out that he refused to sleep without the air conditioner on, never wore socks around the house, used way too much salt on his eggs, and never managed to close the curtains after he got out the shower. Above all that though, he never changed the way he fucked you.

Dabi loves you, of course you never had to question it or get reassurance. He showed you in minuscule ways such as stealing bringing you your favorite snacks after a long day without you, doing things such as buying double of what he gets from store runs because you’re in his mind all day, and telling you he’ll be safe for you once he walks out the door. He never says I love you, but he doesn’t need to.

It’s hard to get someone like him to change the way they are, so when you’re sitting on your shared bed flipping through a magazine and see a couples quiz linger across the page, you can’t help but try to feed yourself crumbs of his affection you know you’ll spend a lifetime searching for.

“How long did it take for you to realize you like me?” You broke the silence, squinting at the duo-skin toned man slouched across the wooden headboard.

You heard him chuckle, blinking longly at you with amusement glimmering within his cerulean irises. It wasn’t rare for Dabi to mock you for asking such a thing, but it was a rare moment for you to glare at him deadpanned and genuinely waiting for an answer. It fucking confused him.

“As long as it took you to make me cum the first time.”

You rolled your eyes, ignoring his comment enough to make him furrow his eyebrows. It wasn’t like you to not retaliate back, you were always quick to snap back at him. Hearing nothing but his own breathing as you skipped through pages made him furrow his eyebrows. He wanted to ask if you were okay— he really did, but then you’d think he cared.

And Dabi would be a terrible person if he let you know he cared.

The silence was nearly overbearing, nearly deafening in his ears as he tried his hardest to focus on anything but your serious expression haunting him in the back of his mind. Things like this rarely bothered him. It goes to say that Dabi was rarely ever bothered.

Sure, you never asked for much reassurance and never even did as much as ask if he meant it when he asked you out mid-nap, but he really did. Sure, you lived off the whim of thinking it was, but at least the raven haired man knew it was. Right?

The sound of the magazine slamming shut and getting thrown somewhere onto the bed broke Dabi of his thoughts. “I’m gonna’ pee.” You announced, mostly to no one in particular because your soft eyes refused to meet his own. Another rare occurrence.

You lied to Dabi for the first time in your life. Did you really have to pee? Of course not. Did you have to cry in the bathroom for a quick 2 seconds to release the pent up frustration of utter confusion? Of course you did. It was annoying— living with someone and only getting treated as if you were anything in the slightest to him when his dick was inside of you. He only ever fucks you rough and never lets you see his face, and he expects you to believe he wants to be with you?

After cleaning your solemn face from dry tears, your body grudgingly made its way out the bathroom and to the bed. Your presence within the studio was clear, panties strewn across the open drawers mixed with Dabi’s briefs, shoes tucked neatly compared to Dabi’s boots tossed lazily near the door, and perfume bottles layering up against the old brown dresser. You took a quick glance at a picture of you hanging on the wall, a familiar raven-headed man’s arms wrapped around your head as he towered over your frame with his head resting across your head.

It was never worth the confusion.

“Why were you crying?” His dark voice rang out, making you slightly flinch as you dented the soft mattress with your frame.

A quick shake of the head will do, you thought to yourself as you followed your own orders. You knew Dabi wouldn’t push to find out what was wrong, he never does. And he doesn’t, lips shut as he takes a drag from some cigarette he’s smoking and giving you a longing look of aggravation. It’s even less of a surprise for him to do such a thing.

“If you have something to tell me, then I suggest you do it.” If you hadn’t known Dabi for as long as you do, you’d probably assume he was being condescending and outright rude. Because you do know him though, you know that’s exactly how he’s trying to come off to you.

You dreaded it. The eventual confrontation that was inevitable from the moment you accepted to be his girlfriend— it all led to this moment in space and time. You felt exactly how you predicted you’d feel, sick and intimidated. Not necessarily by Dabi because you know he’d never hurt you, but intimidated by the fact that it’s as easy as 1-2-3 for him to up and leave depending on your answer.

“What are we, Dabi?” And there it goes, 1-2-3.

It was like hearing a pin drop. Nobody moved, nobody spoke, nobody did anything for the first three seconds following the ultimatum. He knew he had two options: answer genuinely and reveal information he’d die before releasing, or leave you high and dry yet again for his own benefit when it comes to the mere idea of using words he doesn’t use in bed.

Staring into your eyes never scared him, he cremating people for a living, but knowing that lying behind them were tears falling for your reflection rather than on his shoulder caused a pang to hit his chest. It was unfamiliar and unusual, but looking at your body begin to leave its space in the bed in frustration with his quietness made him snap. You were serious for the first time.

“I’m not going to repeat myself.” Your words were harsh, harsher than usual and you yourself couldn’t even tell where this newfound energy came from.

You were okay. You were okay with whatever this complicated situationship was, and you probably would have still been okay with it if you hadn’t gotten too deep in over your head and let his words get to you. Him saying he realized he liked you coincidentally while you fucked should be above you, yet here you are.

“Jesus doll, relax.” He taunted, hands reaching out to grab your arm in a fit of confusion and annoyance, “just come back to bed Y/N.”

You felt it - the minute he touched your arm and released the tiniest bit of heat coming off his palm - just how tense he was becoming. He knew once you put your mind to something, it was difficult to get you to move away from it. He knew that there was no escaping this conversation.

It was inevitable really, the fact that one day (which was, unfortunately for him, today) you would question the legitimacy of his emotions for you. You were carefree just like him, that’s why he fell for you. But you were also blunt. If you felt a way, you were going to say it and that’s that.

Easily, the scarred hand gripping onto your arm slid over to your clenched jaw. You didn’t mean to give him a hard time for not looking his way—with the way his fingers squeezed deep into your skin and tilted your head towards him, you knew you did. It almost repulsed you with how obedient your body was to his touch, glancing at him with no shame other than the dried tears threatening to spill over.

“I’m gonna tell you the one time and I’ll never repeat myself,” he threatened, voice treading amongst angry waters as his blue eyes bored into yours, “I’m serious.”

You stood your ground, eyes taking away from your scowling expression as they swirled in curiosity. It didn’t take much to make you lower your frame onto the edge of the bed, a sigh escaping your lips as you pulled the t-shirt past your exposed panties.

“I don’t say much when it comes to you, or even to when it’s about you—but you’re all I am.” Your eyebrows furrowed, clear confusion written in your face.

“What does tha—” “I’m talking.” Dabi’s aggravated expression never left, not even with the joint hoisted between his lips in nothing but frustration.

“I got nothing to give you, nothing but collected calls from jail and maybe some jewelry I stole cause I got bored. I don’t have any money, anything to my name, and nothing but a spot on the police and hero department’s most wanted list.” His words made you frown, the clear self-depreciation outweighing the cocky and arrogant attitude you once knew to belong to the man infront of you.

“I can’t look you in the eye, show you my face when you milk my cock clean— can’t do shit like that,” Dabi’s smirk was quick to appear, your eyes rolling as you met his serious gaze yet again, “probably won’t be able to take you out the country either unless we run far, far away from here.”

“But nothing I say or do will ever express the way I feel about you.” And now it’s Dabi’s turn for the 1-2-3 process, because that statement in itself made your brain stop working.

Your brain couldn’t comprehend the fact that Dabi’s free hand was circling your bare thigh, moving closer and closer to where he most felt at home. His words never faltered though, only slightly pausing to smoothly slip his hands onto the soaked folds of pink lace.

His words were thrown against empty ears. You couldn’t focus on the words flowing within the room due to the ever-growing heartbeat pulsing between your thighs. Dabi’s hand sank into your leg, heat splitting between your skin enough to hiss and throw your head back.

“From this perfect pussy,” he applied pressure to the space between your legs, the wet patch inducing a smile from his once blank expesssion. The sudden contact caused a gasp to slip from your panting lips. Almost instinctively, Dabi pressed his thumb against your tongue, “to this smart ass mouth, it’s all I need to wake up in the morning.”

Your mind was now blank. All you could think about was the feelings of Dabi's heated fingertips dancing against the confining cotton of your panties. He always had the ability of doing this to you— dumbifying you with nothing but the pads of his fingertips and making you beg for his tongue.

Watching you pant under him nearly made the expressionless man shudder in pleasure. Dabi wasnt a liar, anything and everything he's ever said being some mangled up verbal example of his brain. He was far from the type to express his feelings, show anything other than smugness and oversuimulation, and dedicate his entire life to another person.

He was far from the type, yet managed to become a perfect example of a significant other who's life slowly but surely becomes solely to live for another person. The other person in this situation, was you.

You felt him begin to leave swollen burn bubbles on the outer layer of your skin, legs shaking in a way that brought the two of you out of your racing minds.

His motions stopped, yet hands showed no intention on moving from its current place. He was staring at you intensely - as intensely as he could - to assert his egotistical dominance but you knew the truth.

And as Dabi lowered your frame into the soft, plush white sheets, he realized he knew the truth as well. Your eyes were dazed, irises looking at all of him at the same time as your body swallowed in his touch and he knew. Dabi knows deep down no matter how much taller, bigger, or dominant he ever tried to be, he would worship the ground you walked on with the blink of an eye.

Your hands found his cold cheeks, tongue still stuck to your bottom lip with Dabi's harsh finger circling the pink muscle. Not a word was said, or per say, not a single word needed to be said. The energy surrounding the one-roomed apartment was enough for the two of them.

Before you, Dabi was known to be something of a martyr. He fooled women, toying with their souls the same way he toyed with their bodies and cried trauma when they threatened to leave. He kept a string on every one he ever fucked, being cautious enough to keep them at the heel of his feet for a fun time when he felt he had enough of you.

Then, he got addicted. He drowned in your drive, finding for the first time in his life some sort of comfort. Your natural warmth, your smile, your understanding— you were someone Dabi would find himself laughing at for thinking they actually existed.

"You're gonna get tired of me one day," he bitterly smiled, eyeing you deep into your skull with nothing but sadness laced in an angry distraction, "you're gonna find some hero and leave me here all on my own."

He wanted to think he wouldn't care. If the time where you decided to go back to the better things in life, leave a lowlife villain who wants to destruct the government, and live a rich healthy lifestyle, he knew you didn't do anything less but deserve it. You were too good for him, better than anyone he's ever known in his life for as long as he'd live.

With a soft whimper, your hands turned his head from his lowered expression over to your soft eyes. He hated how quick you got him to look at you, and he especially hated how quick you made his breath stop.

"Hey," you whispered, soft smile still glowing even though you realized he had intentionally lowered his voice as well as his lips from your sight. The vulnerable expression the raven-haired man was trying his hardest to not get you to see brought a rough pang to your chest.

"You crash, I crash. Always."

Your words hit him, and boy did they hit Dabi hard. The time it took for the word always to softly slip off your tongue was just enough time for Dabi to realize the depth of your words.

They were the same ones that fell between your lips when he thought he was dying, when you thought you were dying, and now. Dabi was complex - that was evident - but he was also the simplest man you knew. All he ever really needed was some reassurance.

It was long before his fingers found their way into your scalp, slipping over the crevices of your neck and gripping onto the back of your head as if his life depended on it. All you could do was gasp.

"Can I touch you?" The words were like a record scratch, repeating through the scarred man's brain all too much to keep anyone sane.

He couldn't tell if it was the slur of your words, or if it was your soft hands running across his thick shoulders as the words whispered into his ears— whatever it was made him take up the obligation of doing anything and everything you said.

It wasn't soon before you found yourself slamming your lips against his, the sensation causing you both to moan. You couldn't tell the difference between his hands and yours, tangled limbs falling deep into the plush comforter covering your shared bed. His weight above you did nothing but encourage you to wrap your bare limbs against his now shirtless one on, hands running through the raven locks above your head.

The minute you felt the heated pads of his fingertips lower themselves down your abdomen, your head shook underneath his and caused him to part his lips from its home on yours.

"Hmph," you groaned, pouting as your hands traveled down to his jeans and began to fiddle with the zipper, "I want to feel you in me now."

Dabi was used to being in control. He was used to ordering your body around, telling you what to do and how to do it. In the bedroom, Dabi made the orders. So when he parted his lips from yours and stood over your body with his scarred hands shoving his pants down his thighs, you couldn't do anything less than moan. Knowing he was taking what you said into consideration brought chills to your skin.

"You sure you're ready for this, sweetheart?" He smirked, legs coming out of the restricting jeans he wore and leaving his tall and lean frame in nothing but gray briefs.

Dabi had a lot to brag about, in the most respectful way possible.

Your hands clawed at his waistband, giggling as you pulled his body all the way back to its original position of resting above you and let the underwear go with a loud smack. Being eye to eye with someone like Dabi was scary, no point in denying that. Her there was something about it that just drove the two of you insane— and he couldn't tell if I was anything short of love.

He silenced himself, attaching his lips to yours and preoccupying a hand into pulling his briefs down just enough. And by just enough, it meant just enough to brush your clothed clit as his painfully hard cock stretched up to his stomach. You couldn’t do anything but flinch, hands reaching out to grip his thick girth and slap it across your clothed pussy.

“Let me do it.” You smiled, eyes boring into Dabi’s own blue ones. Your free hand slipped your panties to the side, his mushroom tip dancing against the rim of your wet hole and causing the two of you to release a soft groan into one another’s face.

If there was one thing Dabi would never get tired of, it would be the feeling of your velvet walls sucking his dick closer into you. Nothing short of sensation hit him the minute your hands shoved the head in, and his almost fell inlove with the view of you watching his large length disappear into your own heaven.

It was hard for you to not cum from his entrance. Even as he bottomed out, your teeth sealing a scream from leaving your throat by pressing into his shoulder, did you realize just how big Dabi was. No matter how skinny, lean, and weightless he seemed, the girth and length on Dabi’s third leg when he was stuffing himself into you never failed to surprise you. Even through the self-inflicted pain of going into this without foreplay, you knew there was nothing that would ever fill you up as amazing as Dabi does.

“Fuuuck,” you dragged out into his earlobe, tongue licking a strip of his patched skin from your bite-mark to the lobe of his pierced ears, “you’re so big.”

He couldn’t help but whimper (another thing on Dabi’s list or shit he doesn’t do but now does because of you), the feeling of your tongue circling his ear as your pussy gripped onto his fleeting cock nearly felt like too much. It didn’t help that you were moaning and whispering in his ear with nothing but pure sex laced in your words.

“You know,” he breathed out, beginning to create a routine with his hips bottoming harshly into your cervix and slowly dragging out in a timely fashion, “this is the best pussy I’ve ever had.”

He thinks it’s a compliment, but really it stirs awake the competitive bone in your body. You ignore it though like you always do, choosing to appreciate the fact that he considers you the best at atleast something.

His hand gripped onto your neck, bringing neon stars and dots of blackness to conceal your view of cerulean eyes. Nothing but the lewd sounds of Dabi pushing his dick into your wet hole filled the room, sprinkles of your whimpers and his groans mixing amongst the darkness of the apartment.

Dabi was trouble. He never felt in control of his feelings, never knew what he would want in life, and never bothered to consider living for someone other than himself. It’s moments like these with you though, that makes him realize the God he wakes up thinking about rests between the gap in the middle of your heavenly thighs. He’d killed people before, but the power you held over him was enough to make him consider killing everyone on earth if you’d ask.

You felt him begin to grow impatient, hips pounding into your frame and causing your body to jolt up and down harshly. Words couldn’t describe how amazing Dabi felt inside of you right now. His tip crushed your cervix within every thrust, and it was Dabi’s fingers that lifted your gaping face from the trance of watching him fuck into you to his own face.

“I-I cant.” You began to slip out, tears growing against your eyes as Dabi’s hot fingers began to flick your swollen clit. You swear it’s only been like ten minutes, or maybe Dabi’s huge dick pushing against your cervix was beginning to fuck you stupid. “You’re gonna’ make me cum— make me cum too fast daddy.” You cried out, fingers dragging against the stapled back as you felt Dabi purposely drag one of the piercings located on his tip across your pulsating velvet walls. It was almost too good to be true, and you couldn’t help yourself from kicking his waist over you and forcing his body underneath you. He didn’t even have the courtesy to wipe the smirk off his sweating face.

“Get to work, doll.”

You knew why he spoke to you with such condensation. You also knew exactly why his hands pressed into your ass cheeks as you found your home on top of his bare lap. His scarred torso leaned against the black bed frame, and you decided right then and there that Dabi deserved to get his brains fucked out. So you did exactly what he told you to do— you got to work.

You were wet enough to take him some more, knees straining as you finally pushed his length deep into your stomach. The silent scream that left your lips didn’t go unnoticed though, your fingers that now gripped his cheeks pressing between his lips to keep his teasing menstruations to himself. Dabi’s eyes couldn’t come off your body, and honestly he wished they never had to.

Keeping a grip on your stomach and your ass cheek, an enflamed slap brought a powerful burn across your ass cheek and caused you to jolt against his penis.

“Jesus Dabi, a-are you trying to kill me?” You weakly pleaded, and it didn’t take long for your fucked our expression to start slurring your words.

The sound of you dropping your frame onto his body filled the room, your hips rolling against your clothed clit and bringing sensation you weren’t sure if you could handle. You were trying to focus, but the feeling of Dabi heating a hand up across your ass and slowly beginning to meet your thrusts caused your brain to jumble into a mess of nothing but him.

“Fuck, baby you look so good when you start to get stupid.” He smirked, lips running against the cleavage of your bouncing breasts and lazily sucking on the moving nipple in front of him.

You wanted to fight back, and you wanted to defend yourself against him thinking you we’re starting to get stupid. You really wanted to— the only issue being that you couldn’t. You couldn’t the minute Dabi found a way to meet your thrusts and roughly tilt your neck back up towards the ceiling.

“Fuck, fuck, fuck!” Was all you could cry out as you began to grow impatient in your lower abdomen. It just felt too good. And as if to add injury to insult, your walls began to clamp up from the feeling you knew was coming soon. Dabi paid the price.

You’d never seen his eyes get this wide, eyebrows furrowed as his mouth gaped open in shock. His eyes found its way down, the sight of your pussy gripping and swallowing his dick back in and out being something he wishes he could see all day and that’s when Dabi realizes that he is inlove with everything about you.

“It’s like your perfect pussy was made for me, baby.” He whimpered out, smirking between hooded eyes as he struggled to regain some of his consciousness. You were way too good at bouncing on his dick, and he couldn’t help but begin to meet your thrusts with more precision as he felt himself near orgasm.

“A-all for you! Always all- always all for you daddy!” You cried out, voice struggling to come out as you threw your hands against Dabi’s chest and began to bounce as if your life depends on it.

You hate doing all the work, honestly you really do dislike it. But this has been the longest Dabi has allowed you to ride him and the feeling of you literally milking his cock at your own disposal was an offer too good to ruin.

“I know it’s all for me, princess.” He whimpered out, a hand gripping the back of your neck and pulling it low enough to slam your chapped lips against his own. “Wanna know something, baby?”

The words vibrating against your own moans got lost in the sound, your headboard forcibly slamming against the wall only louder as every other thrust from you gradually grew rougher with your urge to cum. Your brain couldn’t do anything less than feverishly nod, hands slipping back onto your body and allowing Dabi to drill into you from underneath. Gasps slipped out of your parted lips with a hand gripping his black hair and the other begging to rub your own clit.

“You crash, I crash forever, right baby?” He moaned out, the words entering your ears and making you cry out with tears finally spilling down your eyes from nothing but intense pleasure.

“Fuck yes daddy, forever!” You cried out, body beginning to hunch over as you felt the pressure in your stomach compared to the way Dabi slammed into you become too much.

“Good, doll,” he moaned, pushing you so far into him, the heartbeat in your pussy was sure to be vibrating onto the veins of his dick, “so do me a favor.”

Everything happened much too fast, your dizzy state only increasing as Dabi grabbed your body harshly and tossed you back underneath him. There you were again, tossed carelessly under him with your legs trembling and pussy stuffed with all of Dabi in his glory. His lips found our ear again, licking your lobe and sucking on it right after.

“Cream all over my cock so I can stuff you up with my kids, deal?” He smirked into you, jolting into you as soon as the last word resonated on all ears.

Soon enough, he found it in himself to thrust into you like never before. You could barely breath, gasping for air as you felt your vagina began to vibrate due to stage of pleasure you were in. And just like that, your body began to run from the overstimulation of Dabi’s hot finger rubbing roughly against your clit as he drills your frame into the crevices of your mattress.

“Da-daddy I’m gonna’....” The words just couldn’t come out— he was begging to fuck you dumb.

You couldn’t feel nothing but Dabi’s dick pound into you, and if this was all you felt before you fell into a sex-coma than fuck it. It will forever and always be worth it.

It was like you were starting to see white. The feeling of one of his hands now roughly gripping your drooling expression closer to his face made you scream in pleasure, Dabi’s smirk leaving only to release a trail of saliva from his throat into the back of yours. You swallowed it with no hesitation, some of the residue slipping through your lips in a mix with your own spit as you began to drool at the feeling of his tip hitting that one spot over and over again.

And that’s when you felt it. You felt the build up, the pressure of holding back becoming too much as you belted into a mess of tears and tried to push his body off your own.

“No baby,” he roughly said, milking his cock into you even harder and rubbing pressured circles into your clit until a strong snapped within you and you saw nothing but white.

You weren’t sure if it was a sub-space you had entered, or some fucked up version of heaven people who just for their brains fucked out go, but either option felt like fair-game the minute your pussy began to squirt a mess of cum and other liquids from the space Dabi still found himself intruding. If anything boosted his confidence, it was this right here.

“Fuck yes baby, squirt for daddy,” he smirked, rubbing you harder and harder as your felt your body stiffen at the overstimulation, “fuck, you’re so hot.”

As soon as you, Dabi found himself cumming harder than he ever had, lips only being able to cry out a mantra of your name. He knew sex with you was amazing— but this was a new high he doesn’t think he’d ever went to let go of. He didn’t even have the energy to lift himself out of you, small drips of cum able to slip out of your swollen pussy making you flinch in both overstimulation and pain. The cockwarming brought chills to your arm, body sprawled underneath Dabi’s panting frame in nothing but a fucked our expression.

You felt him lift his head up, eyes glancing over your puffy closed ones and being able to do nothing more than steal a kiss from your tongue-licked lips. He knows the difference between “fucked-out” you and “genuinely-knocked-out” you, and you knew he knew the difference too. But he acted as if he didn’t.

And before Dabi could pass out on top of your sweaty and sticky frame, words he mumbled into your shoulder nearly burned into your skin. At least, just enough to make your pussy and lips twitch in nothing but contentness.

I crash, you crash. Forever and always.

Sex with Dabi was always the same— sure. It was rough, messy, and painfully over-stimulating, but it was Dabi, and it was more than enough for you.

Your mind was now blank. All you could think about was the feelings of Dabi’s heated fingertips dancing against the confining cotton of your panties. He always had the ability of doing this to you— dumbifying you with nothing but the pads of his fingertips and making you beg for his tongue.

Watching you pant under him nearly made the expressionless man shudder in pleasure. Dabi wasnt a liar, anything and everything he’s ever said being some mangled up verbal example of his brain. He was far from the type to express his feelings, show anything other than smugness and oversuimulation, and dedicate his entire life to another person.

He was far from the type, yet managed to become a perfect example of a significant other who’s life slowly but surely becomes solely to live for another person. The other person in this situation, was you.

You felt him begin to leave swollen bubbles on the outer layer of your skin, legs shaking in a way that brought the two of you out of your racing minds.

His motions stopped, yet hands showed no intention on moving from its current place. He was staring at you intensely - as intensely as he could - to assert his egotistical dominance but you knew the truth.

And as Dabi lowered your frame into the soft, plush white sheets, he realized he knew the truth as well. Your eyes were dazed, irises looking at all of him at the same time as your body swallowed in his touch and he knew. Dabi knows deep down no matter how much taller, bigger, or dominant he ever tried to be, he would worship the ground you walked on with the blink of an eye.

Your hands found his cold cheeks, tongue still stuck to your bottom lip with Dabi’s harsh finger circling the pink muscle. Not a word was said, or per say, not a single word needed to be said. The energy surrounding the one-roomed apartment was enough for the two of them.

Before you, Dabi was known to be something of a martyr. He fooled women, toying with their souls the same way he toyed with their bodies and cried trauma when they threatened to leave. He kept a string on every one he ever fucked, being cautious enough to keep them at the heel of his feet for a fun time when he felt he had enough of you.

Then, he got addicted. He drowned in your drive, finding for the first time in his life some sort of comfort. Your natural warmth, your smile, your understanding— you were someone Dabi would find himself laughing at for thinking they actually existed.

“You’re gonna get tired of me one day,” he bitterly smiled, eyeing you deep into your skull with nothing but sadness laced in an angry distraction, “you’re gonna find some hero and leave me here all on my own.”

He wanted to think he wouldn’t care. If the time where you decided to go back to the better things in life, leave a lowlife villain who wants to destruct the government, and live a rich healthy lifestyle, he knew you didn’t do anything less but deserve it. You were too good for him, better than anyone he’s ever known in his life for as long as he’d live.

With a soft whimper, your hands turned his head from his lowered expression over to your soft eyes. He hated how quick you got him to look at you, and he especially hated how quick you made his breath stop.

“Hey,” you whispered, soft smile still glowing even though you realized he had intentionally lowered his voice as well as his lips from your sight. The vulnerable expression the raven-haired man was trying his hardest to not get you to see brought a rough pang to your chest.

“You crash, I crash. Always.”

[hercleverboy]

jealous

spencer reid x reader

summary ↠ spencer comes to terms with the fact that the reader will never love him the way he loves her.

category ↠ angst

warnings/includes ↠ heartbreak, unrequited love.

word count ↠ 2.6k

“But I always thought you’d come back, tell me that all you found was heartbreak and misery.” — Jealous by Labrinth

‘I'm jealous of the rain

That falls upon your skin

It's closer than my hands have been

I'm jealous of the rain’

Spencer loved the rain. 

Well, not exactly. He loved to watch how it fell from the grey, angry clouds above as he sat warm and cosy in his apartment. He loved the rain if he was safe inside. He wouldn’tlike to get caught in a downpour, however. 

He watched contently as the droplets fell against the window, staining the glass and jarring his view of the street below. It made him feel peaceful, and he would argue that there was no better sound to read to than that of the rain. 

His focus dropped from the copy of ‘War and Peace’ in his hands, his mind focused on something else entirely. 

Not so much something but someone. 

Y/N had been Spencer’s closest friend for years at that point, having met him a few months after he’d started working at the BAU. 

They spent pretty much any moment they could together. Spencer took her to museum exhibits and art galleries and she would listen intently as he rambled. He’d always stop mid-sentence and blush, apologising for getting ahead of himself but she’d simply smile and shake her head. 

“You don’t ever have to apologise for sharing your wonderful knowledge with me, Spence. You know I could listen to you all day,” She’d say, “Keep going, please?”

He never could say no to her. 

If there was anyone in the world he felt most comfortable with, it was her. She never ridiculed him or babied him like the team had a habit of doing. If there was a case that ended poorly she never pushed for him to confide in her, giving him the time and space to disclose his feelings when he was ready (something he was incredibly grateful for.)

For a long while, things were strictly platonic for Spencer. One day she was his best friend, the person he felt the most himself around, and the next day it was something more. He couldn’t pinpoint the moment in which his feelings for her changed, or what had caused them too. Since when had her welcoming hugs begun feel so warm? At what point had her giggle caused the butterflies in his stomach that he’d only ever read of in great poetry or love stories?

He tried to push the feelings away, he really did, but ultimately his attempts to avoid his newfound affection for her were fruitless. Nothing could be done, he finally had to face the facts. He was in love with her. In love with every adorable quirk, every smile, and every part of her; even the parts she deemed unworthy and ugly, he loved them all the same. 

He wanted her to be his so badly. 

There was only one slight problem. 

Y/N wasn’t his to have. She had a boyfriend, a long term one at that. She was in a committed relationship with a man that wasn’t Spencer and he’d still allowed himself to fall in love with her. 

Nice one, Spencer. 

*

Spencer looked up at the clouds above him, frowning at the sight of the different shades of grey they were. He looked over at Y/N who walked alongside him. He’d gotten them tickets to a Russian Film festival, and he’d insisted she went with him so he could do a simultaneous whisper translation while they watched. 

“It looks like it’s going to rain.” He broke the comfortable silence between them, his voice wavering slightly. 

She looked up, a grin coming to her lips at the sight. “I hope it does, you know I like the rain.” 

He chuckled lightly at that. “I do too! But who wants to be caught in it and end up soaking wet?” 

She gasped in mock hurt. “I’m sorry Mr. 187, maybe I want to get caught in the rain, like a scene in some cheesy rom-com.”

He shook his head at her, his gaze dropping back down to look at the pavement beneath them.

Then the downpour started, just as Spencer had predicted. The rain was heavy and cold, essentially soaking them in seconds. 

Spencer ducked under nearby shelter, pulling his coat tighter around him. He looked back over at Y/N, surprised to find her stood out in the rain, her arms outstretched and a grin on her lips. 

“Y/N! What are you doing? You’re gonna get cold!” He shouted out, trying to make himself heard over the loud pelts of rain. 

“I’ll be fine!” She called back. 

“You know there’s a widespread myth that you lose the most body heat through your head. Studies have actually concluded that you only lose about ten percent of heat through your head.” Spencer shouted, and she turned to him with a smile, one that dismissed his facts. “You’re not even wearing a jacket, Y/N!”

“You know as well as I do, Doctor, that there’s no direct correlation between the rain and getting sick, so don’t even try that with me.” 

“You’re right, but there’s a very real chance of hypothermia. Actually, last year it was reported that approximately 700 people in the US died of hypothermia-”

“Spence!” She grinned, politely interrupting his statistics. “Come join me! Live a little!” 

He shook his head adamantly. “I’m okay, thank you. But you carry on.” 

He watched on in awe at the sight before him. He pushed all the statistics on the probability of her getting sick to the back of his head, focused on how she looked it that moment. Her body was lit only by pale moonlight and dim streetlamps, but Spencer thought she’d never looked more beautiful.

He should’ve told her, then. Should’ve told her how much he loved her, how he could give her everything she craved, more than her boyfriend ever could. He wondered how he would put into words that he’d find a way to give her the world if she asked for it. 

But he said nothing. 

He could envision himself saying it.

He allowed himself to dream of speaking the words, how her face would light up and he’d finally get to hold her the way he yearned to. He thought of how proud Garcia would be of him since she’d practically been begging him to make a move ever since she learned of the situation. (” It’s not that simple, Garcia. She has a boyfriend!” “That’s a minor detail, Reid!”)

He could picture himself saying the words. He could see how she’d look over at him with those adorably furrowed brows and stunning eyes. The rain would pour over them like in the scene from Pride and Prejudice, as he finally dared to say the words he’d held onto for so very long. 

‘I love you, most ardently.’

His very own Elizabeth Bennet.

But he said nothing.

Instead, when she came back over to him, her figure shivering as the cold finally set in, he simply offered her a cheeky grin. A simple look that said, ‘I told you so’. He quickly shrugged off his jacket and placed it over her shoulders, waving off her protests that he was going to get cold now.

As if that mattered, as long as she was warm.

*

Any attempt to sleep seemed useless. No matter how many poems he read to himself in his mind, sleep simply wasn’t coming. With a frustrated huff he moved to lie on his back, staring up at the ceiling defeatedly. Although he wished it wouldn’t, his mind travelled to Y/N. His heart lurched and just the thought of her, accompanied by the newest of the plethora of emotions he was feeling- jealousy. He wondered if her boyfriend knew just how lucky he was to be lying next to her, to have the privilege of holding her close, of telling her he loved her. 

Spencer wasn’t a possessive man, he knew very well that Y/N didn’t belong to him, nor did she belong to anyone. She wasn’t an object to be had, and Spencer would never treat her as such. However, he found himself wishing to a being he wasn’t sure he believed in that she would be his. Perhaps it was selfish and wrong, to hope that she’d turn up heartbroken on his doorstep so that he could pick up the pieces of her broken by another man. It was definitely selfish to wish her so much heartache so that he could ultimately get what he wanted.  

He recognised that she didn’t owe him anything. She didn’t owe him her love in return for his. But that almost made it worse; that this situation was nobody’s fault. It wasn’t Y/N’s fault for not returning his affections, nor was it her boyfriends’. It wasn’t Spencer’s fault either, he knew that deep down. He knew that no matter how many times he wished he’d told her sooner, before another man had swept her away, it wouldn’t have changed her feelings for him. 

It almost brought him to tears. It’d be easier, he thought, easier if she did something that made me hate her. But he didn’t hate her, he didn’t think he ever could. He loved her more than he’d ever loved anyone or anything and there no words to describe the burning pain in his chest as the realisation that he was all alone dawned on him. 

Y/N didn’t love him. At least, not in the way he wanted her too. 

He could almost kid himself into thinking that she was going to knock on his door, tell him she’d left her boyfriend and confess her love for him. It was silly, and really doing him more damage than good to indulge in this self-serving fantasy he’d created, but it was the only thing that gave him enough peace to finally fall into slumber. 

*

He nearly said it one day.

It was a Friday evening, and they were sat together at his apartment, having just finished watching a bunch of films. Y/N was mid-tangent about an interesting fan theory she’d read up on, while Spencer sat next to her trying to clear his thoughts. 

His mind was screaming at him, this is it, it said, this is your chance. He knew it was selfish, quite possibly the most selfish thing he’d ever do. Especially when she was with someone else, the man she was building a life with- and Spencer was going to tear it all down with three simple words. 

The most selfish thing he’d ever do. 

And some part of him, some silly, hopelessly romantic part of him told him she wasn’t going to reject him. No, instead, she would admit she loved him too- and everything would be okay. Right? 

“Y/N I-“ He interrupted her, and she looked over surprised as she stopped talking. She took in his tone of voice; how pained it sounded. She watched at how he cringed for interrupting her, his trembling hands coming to clutch fistfuls of his beige coloured cardigan in a nervous attempt to calm himself.

He evidently had something he needed to get off his chest.

“Yeah, Spence?” She prodded when he didn’t speak.

“I- I have to tell you something, something I should’ve told you a long time ago.” He rushed out, his voice shaking. He knew he’d have to force himself to say the words. He told himself to stop thinking so hard and just say them, because he knew all too well that he wouldn’t get the opportunity again. 

“Okay. It’s okay, take your time. It’s just me.”

“I-I” He stuttered, trying to force the three simple words to leave his lips but he couldn’t seem to do it. He desperately wanted to, and it ached because he could feel them on the tip of his tongue.

Then his eyes met hers, and he stopped. His brain seemed to grant him a moment of clarity among the chaos and overwhelming thoughts. He tried to profile her, to use what he knew about human behaviour and how he’d read once that the eyes were the windows to the soul. He recalled how happy she always was when she spoke of her boyfriend, and Spencer couldn’t deny that from what he’d heard, he treated her well. Like she deserved. It shattered his heart all over again, but how could he sit there and tear away the happiness of the woman he loved? He knew what him confessing would do to her. She’d go into overdrive trying to compensate for not feeling the same, overexert herself trying to be the greatest friend she could be — and all the while she’d smile, as though the knowledge that she’d (unintentionally) hurt her best friend wasn’t killing her inside. 

He couldn’t do that to her. 

Not as he stared at her now, her worried eyes on him as she tried to figure out how to help him. 

He couldn’t hurt her like that. 

Spencer would hurt himself a hundred times over if it meant she was unharmed. He supposed that was what the meaning of love really was. Sacrificing yourself for the one you love. 

He gave a sad smile and shook his head. “Um, you know what? It’s nothing.”

Her eyebrows knitted together as she scoffed. “Seriously? You’re gonna leave me hanging like that?” Her tone was amused although she feigned disappointment. 

“Guess so.” He forced a chuckle, and Y/N opened her mouth to speak before the sound of her phone ringing cut through the air. She looked over at it, a small smile reaching her features at the sight of the name that flashed across the screen. 

“Is that your boyfriend calling?” Spencer asked quietly. 

She nodded. “I’ll tell him to call back later.” She moved her hand to click decline but Spencer’s voice stopped her. 

“No. It’s okay. You should answer it now, it might be important.”

She seemed hesitant but nodded nonetheless, moving a few paces away from him before answering and talking softly into the phone. A few minutes later she hung up. 

“Everything okay?” Spencer questioned. 

She hummed. “Of course. He just wanted to know if I wanted to grab dinner with him, but I told him I’ve got plans with you-”

“No- no- you should go. With him.” Spencer breathed out.

“Are you sure? I thought we were gonna order in from that Chinese place you love?”

He gave her a small shrug. “We can take a rain check. You should go, I-I wouldn’t want you to be late for dinner.”

She frowned over at him, pocketing her phone as she moved closer to him. She clasped his shoulders in her hands and pulled her to him in a hug. He tensed at the initial contact, but eventually he relaxed into her hold and wrapped his arms around her. 

“You know you can tell me anything?” She promised, her voice soft, warm. 

“I know.” His voice broke, and his throat burned with the sob he was holding back.

She pulled back, concern on her features as she hesitantly let go of him. She promised she would give him a call later that evening before leaving the apartment.

Spencer stood for a moment; eyes fixated on the door as it closed behind her. 

He wondered how he was ever going to move on from her, from the dreams of a future that was so close but just barely out of reach.

Ultimately, he wasn’t jealous of the man who got to have her. 

He was jealous of the fact that she was happy because he could only wish that he was happy too.

‘It's hard for me to say, I'm jealous of the way

You're happy without me’

permanant taglist; @beyonces-breastmilk @pinkdiamond1016 @itsmyblogandillreblogifiwantto @thelovelyrose @averyhotchner @cynbx @calm-and-doctor @reidyoulikeabook @ssa-m-187

[deceasedanddesist]

unrequited ( lily evans )

this is for @strawberrywafer​‘s 300 writing challenge 

pairing: lily evans x griffyndor!reader

fem! reader ( pronouns are not specified )

warnings: lots of angst, not a happy ending, mentions of homophobia, lots of talk about emotional turmoil and pain.

notes: i love me some angst, especially if its sapphic. i personally have experienced being in love with your straight best friend and I may or may not have cried writing this. enjoy :)

word count: 2.2k

you were in love with your best friend. it was the most gut wrenching form of self sabotage that you could fathom, and the worst part was you couldn’t even be mad at her, or even james potter for that matter.

its not like you couldn’t see the appeal, i mean he was stuck in the same boat as you. almost. if you didn’t see her subtle double takes when he walked into a room or the lingering disappointment in her eyes when he did something ridiculously immature, you probably would have bought the half-hearted glares and demeaning nicknames. if only you hadn’t paid so much attention to her striking emerald eyes as she watched the back of his head at the first feast of seventh year, you probably would have been fooled along with everyone else.

that was when you knew you were royally fucked, because she just didn’t seem into it this year. at first you tricked yourself into thinking it was because she was finally sick of him after all the years of extravagantly expressing his undying love for her, but a few weeks into your final year at hogwarts you knew. you knew it wasn’t because she was tired of him, it was because she was tired of pretending she didn’t love him back.

so no, you weren’t mad at james potter, in all of his arrogant, quidditch all-star glory. and you weren’t mad at lily evans—but who were you kidding, you could never be mad at her. you realized the anger you felt, that burning, self destructive pit in your stomach, was directed at yourself.

how could you let this happen? it had been in fifth year when you realized the feelings you harboured towards your roommate were not something a friend should feel for a friend. you kicked yourself for it then and you do the same thing now, because you always knew the red-head talked about james potter too much for it to just be out of hatred. what was it that you were always telling her, “there’s a thin line between hate and love, lils”, and it felt like you took a stake to the heart when you found out that she began to look at him with something in her eyes that you knew oh-so well. it was the one thing you and potter had in common.

then they were together, it happened faster than you could say quidditch. one minute james potter was professing his love, as per usual, and none of your peers looked twice at the impromptu great hall confessional. well, until people realized lily wasn't yelling and calling him an ‘arrogant toerag��. 

you knew it was coming, and as much as you wanted to squeeze your eyes shut until they’d have to be pried opened by marlene, you forced yourself to watch as she finally said yes to the love of her life. you don't know why you did it, looking back, you would’ve walked out as soon as you came to the realization. maybe you felt you deserved it, after all, your parents aren't very supportive of who you love. maybe your mom’s world-crushing passive aggressive comments, or your dad’s suggestion about sending you away to some church town in the middle of butt-fuck nowhere were finally getting to your head. 

they found out this summer, unbeknownst to all of your friends and peers. you still aren’t quite sure what happened, all you knew was that they found a more than friendly unsent letter to a beautiful red-head, and you certainly didn’t think your life could get any worse.....until now. 

you hadn't realized your head had gone off into space until mary macdonald nudged you back into reality, giving you time to evaluate the situation. 

lily had sat back down and began to furiously blush, while james was getting patted on the back by people from numerous houses, even he himself looked quite shocked she actually agreed to go out with him. 

you told yourself you tried to listen to what lily was telling the group of girls, but in reality you were accumulating strategies in your head on how to slip away unnoticed to go cry somewhere. you didn't want to hear lily talking about where james was going to take her, and you certainly weren't gonna listen to her go on about how hard it was to keep up her resolve all of these years. 

so you left, and when you looked back, she hadn't even glanced your way. 

it didn't even come to a surprise to you that you were easily forgotten, and you hated yourself for it. you hated yourself for ignoring the obvious fact that lily evans and james potter were always meant to be together, and you hated that you would ignore factoring it into the equations you imagined in your head.

you hated being out of control, so you focused on the one thing you could. staying away from her. 

it was completely selfish. you knew it, and so did marlene, mary, and dorcas. but you didn't give them time to convince you, because in your head this was the only option to help you get over her. 

you walked into the dorm after you got confirmation lily was asleep, and you were gone before she woke up. lily didn't have any idea why and you almost felt bad for her, but you couldn’t bring yourself to. why? because she's the one that gets a happy ending, and the absence of one friend ( no matter how important you were to her ) isn’t going to fuck that up. 

you were unlucky enough to get the short end of the stick, and it made you want to scream. the pressure of doing good on your n.e.w.t.s so you don't have to spend another suffocating summer with your parents, and now, with all of this unexplained weight on your chest that you have yet to figure out how to get rid of. it was infuriating, and letting it all brew up inside yourself was bound to make a mess later. 

you knew that later would come eventually, but you never knew it would be in the form of james potter. 

the realization came to you as soon as you saw the look on his face as he walked towards you in the hallway outside of the potions classroom you just walked out of. he looked spooked almost, like he felt a severe sense of dread to have this conversation with you. 

“hey.” he dragged it out as the one word left his mouth. yup, definitely dreading this. 

“hi.” you matched his awkwardness, he cringed like he was realizing how stupid he sounded. “you’re here about lily.” 

you saved him the trouble. both of you didn't want to be here having this conversation, and he looked like he was on the verge of a stroke. not the confrontational type, you noted silently. 

“yeah,” he paused and took the time to observe your stance, his brows furrowed almost, like he was wondering why you were so nonchalant about this. “just here to clear up a few things.” 

it was your turn to furrow your brows. clear up a few things? why would lily send james to do her bidding? 

“I don't know what exactly needs to be cleared between us, potter.” you unintentionally spat his name out like it was poison to you. immediately deflating when you saw his face drop, this wasn’t his fault after all. 

“okay, it’s clear that you don't like me, but I don't know what that has to do with lily.” he paused once again before reluctantly continuing, “at first I thought it was because you fancied me-” 

his words were cut off by your laugh, “how heteronormative. no offence james, but you’re really far from my type.” 

his eyes widened, you nodded.

“if lily wants to ‘clear up a few things’ she can come to me herself.” 

you left with the last words, and a bewildered james potter as an added bonus.

it had been a few weeks since that conversation, and you didn’t think lily got the message. well, that was until she somehow bribed mary into telling you she went to sleep early and  managed to clear out the room. you guys always joked that she was the weakest link.

you were dissatisfied with yourself when you found that when you looked at her, all you could think about was how beautiful her eyes were. her red tresses appeared to be lazily thrown up into a bun, and she adorned some gryffindor pyjamas that the school provides you with every year.

you let out a breath you’ve been holding ever since the decision to distance yourself from her. it was like the weight you’ve been carrying was replaced with dread, because now you had to tell her, and you weren’t worried for your feelings, you were worried for hers. one think you knew for sure was that lily evans had an enormous heart, and it would be like passing the weight of your unrequited feelings onto her, and who would want someone they loved to deal with that.

“hi.” you decided to initiate the heavy exchange that was about to occur, you don’t know why you did it.

“we need to talk, y/n”

you just nodded. wanting to hear what she had to say first, you gestured to her meekly.

“i know you and james had a conversation, he told me,” she paused, seemingly collecting herself before she addressed the question that you knew she already knew the answer to. “i’m just a tad confused about the context of your side of it.”

“no you’re not lily.” you whispered it so softly you weren’t even sure she heard you, but the bit of breath she took in out of shock let you know she caught the innuendo.

“i-,” she collected herself once again, “i don’t know what to say, y/n.”

you looked down, because the pitying look she was giving you was going to make you mad if you looked at it any longer. with every utterance of your name, you felt a pang in your chest, the congestion of emotions finally clawing their way out. it was thick and it was coming out of you with the speed of a freight train, you broke the silence first.”

“look, you don’t have to say anything. i know you don’t reciprocate, and i’ve accepted it.” you hoped the one conversation you could never control the outcome of was over, and you did try to leave it at that by walking to your trunk and grabbing your night clothes, but something lily said stopped you.

“why did you keep this from me?” she seemed a bit angry, and the shock of it rolled through you as you processed the tone in which she spoke.

but to her surprise you just let out a wet laugh, wishing she would just let it go and let you sob it out in peace, but before you could even open your mouth to speak she did it for you.

“you just ignored me, like i had no business knowing that you feel this way towards me. it could have been different, you know.” she looked like what she said pained her to do so, and you hated it.

the tears were already flowing freely down your cheeks when you turned back around to face her,

“i was right here lily, by your side all along but you never saw me, did you?” you were full on snot nosed crying now, but you continued anyways.

“i know you’re angry because i’ve been ignoring you, but i just want you to be happy, and that can’t happen if you know i’m in love with you.”

“why-”

“because i’m around you constantly, lily. you’d never forgive yourself for not reciprocating, so we’re better off like this.” she looked like she was gonna disagree, so you added “i know you, and you know it’s true too.”

she took one unconscious step closer to you, to which you stepped back.

“just let me go,” you begged, “it’s better this way, i promise.”

she took one good look at your tear stricken face, “how can you know this is better y/n, look at you.”

you wiped your nose on your sleeve, “i’ve been dealing with this for so long. just let me go, if not for your sake, do it for mine.” she wasn’t going to let up until you looked at her and attempted to once again beg, but it just came out as a silent plea overcome by your fresh tears.

you just looked down, waiting until you heard her footsteps out the door to let your knees give out.

you really hoped all this pain would be better for you in the long run.

[ellewritesathing]

You’re My Problem

Summary: What happens when you take unrequited love, throw in some jealousy, and add a dash of impulsivity? You get a recipe for disaster.

Word Count: 2.8k+

A/N: this was requested by @i-write-things-sometimes-x​ a forever ago. thank you for being so patient and i’m so sorry it took so long for me to write this!! 💕

Stiles’ Stilinski was a dumbass. He was impulsive, he was reckless, and he couldn’t focus on anything that wasn’t Lydia Martin for longer than five minutes. But he was also the one who brought you soup when you were sick, the one who remembered your birthday, and the one you’d been in love with since before you could remember. 

He’d been oblivious to all your attempts of getting him to see you as something other than a friend pretty much for as long as you’d known him. Erica thought it was hilarious, and she never let you live down the mouth-to-mouth debacle after he’d almost drowned with the kanima venom. She’d been nicer about it, though, since Lydia and Stiles had their own moment of panic-induced lip-locking. 

But it wasn’t just Erica that changed - everything was different after their kiss. As dramatic as your reaction seemed when you looked back on it, something inside you snapped that day, and all of your pent-up rage from being powerless in a town of supernaturals bubbled to the surface. You convinced Derek to turn you, and things between you, Stiles, and Scott had never been the same. 

“And here I thought you came to lacrosse practice for me.” Isaac set down his gear with a grin and grabbed your water bottle. The light caught on his eyelashes as he drank, painting delicate ribbons down his cheeks as long as his chin was tilted up to the sky.

Erica didn’t care about how pretty Isaac could be, because she didn’t find him nearly as pretty as the lacrosse players packing up on the field. She rolled her eyes and pushed Isaac to the side, not bothering to adjust her strength in the process. “Move over, lover boy. You’re blocking my view.” 

Armed with an evil grin and the knowledge that Erica couldn’t do anything to him in front of all these people, Isaac moved directly in front of her and tilted his head. “Didn’t Derek tell you to be nicer to people?” 

“Derek also told me not to smother you in your sleep, so-” Erica reached forward, hand extended almost as gently as to move one of his curls out of his face, and shoved him to the ground “-you better watch out.” She drummed her fingers on the bleachers with an evil smile of her own before jumping up to follow one of the lacrosse boys off the field. 

Laughing off Erica’s dramatics and shaking your head, you got up and held a hand out to help Isaac to his feet. “Come on.” You waved your fingers when he didn’t reach out. “You stink and the sooner you shower, the sooner I get lunch.” 

“Yeah?” Isaac reached up for your hand and leaned on his other elbow for support. “That kinda sucks for you.” 

It was your own fault for not noticing the glint of mischief in his eye before he wrapped his hand around yours and pulled you to the ground next to him. Soon enough, the two of you were rolling around the field (you trying to get up and him ruining every attempt) and laughing just like you always did. Your hands were barely intertwined, but it was still enough to feel his pulse racing. 

“Are you two done? Because Coach is gonna turn on the sprinklers in like five minutes.” 

Your heartbeat shot up at the sound of Stiles’ voice. Clumsily, you untangled yourself from Isaac and sat up. It didn’t matter whether you were human or superhuman, facing a cute boy or the monster of the week, nothing made you more nervous than Stiles Stilinski. “Yeah, we were just- uh, just leaving to grab some lunch. You wanna come with?” 

“Thanks, but I kinda lost my appetite.” Stiles waited an awkward moment and then shrugged, rolled his lacrosse stick over in his hand, and started walking away. The faded number 24 bobbed up and down as he walked away from you, like a boat treading very uncertain waters.

You let out a deep breath and hid your head in your hands. It didn’t matter what you did, conversations with Stiles always ended awkwardly or with one of you leaving. At least this way, you couldn’t see the embarrassing aftermath.

“Oh, come on-” Isaac knocked your knee with his, letting out a laugh. You could practically hear him rolling his eyes before you turned to face him. “It wasn’t that bad.” 

“He hates me.” 

“He doesn’t hate you.” 

“Ever since I turned, it’s like he can’t even bear to look at me.” 

“And you are so hard to look at,” Isaac said with a grin. He rolled his eyes again and let out a low laugh. If he was going to say anything else about your massively mortifying crush on Stiles Stilinski, he didn’t get the chance. The sprinklers switched on.

---

You were a real pain in the ass. You were annoyingly right about everything, you always had to get your own way, and you could barely focus on anything that wasn’t Isaac Lahey for longer than five minutes. But you were also the one that watched Star Wars with him when he couldn’t sleep, the one that saved him a seat in English, and the one Stiles had been in love with since before he could remember. 

Even after the world went to hell in a handbasket, Stiles thought he might have had a shot with you. All he had to do was find the right time to talk to you - and it seemed like the perfect time after you saved him from drowning - but he waited too long. Somehow something always came around to ruin his perfect moment. Eventually, you turned and traded him in for the one and only Isaac ‘Pretentious Asshole’ Lahey.

In the understatement of the century, Scott said, “Dude, you should just talk to her,” in that aggravatingly optimistic way of his. 

“Yeah? I should just talk to her, and tell her that I love her, and then maybe we’ll just walk off into the sunset like a Julia Roberts movie?” Stiles was robbed of the satisfaction of his snark by Scott’s dumbstruck face. “Oh my god, what is it now? What’s with the face?” 

Scott scrunched up his face and pulled on the straps of his backpack. He rocked on his heels defensively. “I don’t have a face.”

“You totally have a face, okay?” Stiles waved his hand in front of Scott’s face. “This right here is the face you make when it’s tater tot day.”

Scott shrugged and tried to play it cool. “It’s nothing, just-” He took a deep breath, leaned in, and said, “You just said that you love her. That’s all.” With another trademark Scott McCall shrug and smile, he started walking off to make his English class before the second bell.

“Well…” Stiles said to an empty hallway. He let out a heavy sigh and slammed his locker. “Shit.” 

---

You’d spent your entire life pining over Stiles Stilinski. All those years wasted on a guy who didn’t have feelings for you, when there was a perfectly sweet distraction right next to him. Sure, maybe Isaac didn’t know your favorite movie candy and he didn’t always know the right thing to say when you were having a bad day, but he snuck you out of detention and he didn’t make you so tongue-tied that you couldn’t speak in complete sentences. 

Isaac was fun. He made you feel witty. Maybe he wasn’t perfect, but he was fun.

This night was the closest to perfect you’d had in a long time: Lydia’s epic homecoming party. There were copious amounts of alcohol and scarce supervision, you and Isaac were dancing, and the full moon wasn’t for another week. It was as perfect as you were ever going to get … and yet you couldn’t stop stealing glances at Stiles. 

Outright staring at him would have been preferable, but he had been glowering at you ever since Isaac, Erica, and Boyd showed up. If you didn’t want to see the look of annoyance that was almost permanently on his face when it came to you, then stealing glances would have to be enough. 

It was a shame, though, because there was something so magnetic about him tonight. Maybe it was the effortlessness that made him attractive. He was slightly overdue for a haircut, so he was dragging a hand through it every other minute in that nervous way of his. Even though his plaid was one of the too big ones Noah had bought for Christmas a few years ago, his t-shirt was one from the older collection that he was in the process of outgrowing. Disheveled suited him; he was almost perfect. If the annoyed look on his face would disappear, so would the ‘almost.’

Isaac ducked his head down to speak to you over the blare of the music, lip grazing your ear as he spoke. “You’re doing that thing again.” 

“What thing?” you asked, trying to brighten up when you looked up at him. You should have tried harder, but dancing with Isaac and being witty wasn’t a priority when Stiles was so mad at you. 

The corners of Isaac’s mouth curled up and he tilted his head to the side. You knew that Stiles was the thing, even if he didn’t say it while he twirled you out.

Isaac pulled you in slightly too quickly, so you collapsed into him more than anything else. The two of you were still laughing and cracking jokes about super-healing when you caught a glimpse of Stiles angrily swigging what was left of a beer and disappearing into the house. 

For a moment, all the sweaty teens and bright lights faded away. You untangled yourself from Isaac quickly and clumsily before rushing out an “I gotta go” and pushing your way through the crowd. 

It was easier to breathe when you reached the second floor without so many people around. The only problem was that all the air disappeared the moment you were alone with Stiles. It was the first time in months that you’d spent any time alone together, and the fact that he was more than a little tipsy wasn’t making things any easier. 

Still, you followed him into one of the rooms and closed the door. “Hey, Stiles, are you doing okay?”

“Uh, yeah. Yeah, actually, I’m just peachy.” Stiles dropped the necklace he was fiddling with and brushed his nose with his thumb. “Perfect. Nothing to complain about, you know? At least no one’s trying to kill me this week.” 

“Sounds like maybe you should be celebrating,” you said carefully, trying not to spook him as you made your way over. “You know, instead of hanging out up here, going through Lydia’s great aunt’s jewelry.”

Stiles let out a hollow laugh and turned awkwardly to the jewelry box on the dresser. He shrugged and picked up the necklace again. “But it’s so shiny and I’m so awkward,” he whined. 

You took a few steps closer to take the necklace out of his hands before he broke the clasp. “You’re not awkward.” Stiles gave you a sideways look and you laughed. “Okay, maybe you’re a little awkward, but it’s an endearing kind of awkward.” 

Stiles stubbornly refused to give you the necklace without a fight, and the chain was caught in the crossfire. The both of you panicked and scrambled to fix it, but this wasn’t the kind of necklace that two teenagers and a pair of tweezers could fix. 

Stiles gave up struggling over the necklace and let out a heavy sigh, hand curling over one half of the broken chain and the bathroom sink. The necklace had been the only thing keeping the weight of the world off his shoulders - the only thing keeping Stiles tipsy and happy instead of almost drunk and kind of sad. “Just forget it,” he said. His voice was raw. “No amount of trying is gonna fix it.” 

“Don’t say that.” You grabbed Stiles’ half of the chain out of his hand and put it next to the other half on the counter. Willing the chains to fuse back together and decidedly not looking at Stiles, you said, “You can’t just give up like that.” 

“Why not? The necklace is broken and I broke it. I can’t fix it.” 

“You can at least try to fix it.” 

“Maybe it doesn’t wanna be fixed. Maybe it’s happier with the stupid scarf, alright?” 

“Wait, what scarf?” When he didn’t answer, you looked up from the necklace to find him staring guiltily at the floor. “Stiles, please don’t tell me there’s some ruined Hermes scarf up here because Lydia will kill me.” 

Still no answer. 

As gently as you could, you reached out to touch his shoulder. “Stiles-”

“Just forget it!” Stiles snapped, pulling away before you could touch him. He almost crashed into the door in his hurry to get away from you. “Go dance with your scarf, okay? You two deserve one another.” 

Stiles stormed into the bedroom, and you stormed after him. You caught his arm before he even made it halfway across the room. “Okay, man, what the hell is your problem?” 

“My problem?” Stiles echoed. “You wanna know what my problem is?” 

“Yes! You’ve been glaring at me all night, avoiding me for like six months, and- what? Now you’re freaking out over a broken necklace?” You took a step closer to him, pulse racing. “So, what’s your problem?” 

“Okay, you know what? You’re my problem.” Stiles was so close that you didn’t need werewolf superpowers to feel all the emotions coming off him. “We were best friends until you ditched me for Isaac Freaking Lahey, okay? We used to hang out like all the time, and now we barely spend any time together unless someone’s trying to kill us. And you’re impossible to talk to-” 

“I’m impossible to talk to?” you echoed. “Stiles, you cringe every time you see me.” 

“I do not!” he said defensively, scrunching his face slightly. “Okay, maybe I do but that’s because whenever I see you, Isaac’s following you around like a puppy dog.” 

You couldn’t help but scoff at that. The puppy comment was a cheap shot and it wasn’t like Stiles could complain when he made it perfectly clear that he didn’t have feelings for you. “So is your problem actually with me? Because so far all you’ve done is talk about Isaac.” 

“I don’t- it’s both of you, alright?” Stiles let out a shaky breath and looked away. He took a second to run a hand down the side of his face before speaking again. “My problem is that I have feelings for you and you don’t even know I exist anymore.” 

No amount of accelerated werewolf reflexes could have prepared you for that. For a second, you were too surprised to respond. “You … have feelings for me? I thought you were in love with Lydia.” 

Stiles snorted. “Please, she kissed me once and it was terrible for both of us.” He shifted his weight awkwardly, unsure what to say while you adjusted to the information. “Besides,” he said in a much slower, much quieter voice, “it’s not like she’s you.”

“Isaac hates Star Wars,” you said quietly, staring at the bullseye in the middle of Stiles’ shirt instead of meeting his eyes.

“God, I hate that guy,” Stiles mumbled. He looked around the room awkwardly before landing on the tv in the corner. “You wanna, uh, watch something with me? I really don’t want to go back down there.”

You nodded without giving it any thought, looking up at Stiles and giving him the first real smile you’d had all night. “Yeah, I’d really like that.”

“Great!” Stiles gave a short laugh before slowing his breathing and looking at you so seriously that you thought your heart would stop. “Just, uh, one more thing?” he asked, voice quiet and delicate again. You started rambling, but the words fell away as soon as Stiles lifted his hands to either side of your face. The whole world slowed for a moment, coming almost to a complete stand-still when he pressed his lips against yours. “There,” Stiles said softly. “I’ve been thinking about that since freshman year.”

Despite all the anxiety racing through your system, or maybe because of it, you laughed. The sound of his heartbeat was deafening as you reached a hand up to the side of Stiles’ neck. Time slowed again as you leaned up on your toes, kissed him again, and realized that maybe this night was perfect after all. 

[asiriuscrushonmoonyx]

Wolfstar remus realizing he has a crush on sirius in their third or fourth year. please and thank you!!!!

I’m so sorry this has taken me FOREVER. I actually forgot I had prompts in my inbox so when I saw this I decided hey, let’s write!! I didn’t specify what year they’re in but I’d assume fourth year or above. I hope you like it!

————————————

Had Remus really been this blind all along? Was he really this unaware of his own feelings? He’d always thought he’d been quite a self-aware guy - in fact, sometimes too self-aware to the point where all he could see were his numerous flaws. But this- this had just hit him like a tonne of bricks.

He was in love with Sirius Black.

It had all started when he’d been with Sirius in one of the corridors and they had been joking around about something and then Severus Snape had rounded the corner. Sirius, being Sirius, made some rude comment about Snape’s greasy hair or something, and Snape retorted with, “you wouldn’t be so cocky if you didn’t have your boyfriend Lupin by your side protecting you”.

Ever since hearing those words, from Snape’s mouth nonetheless, it was like Remus was seeing things clearly for a change.

He found himself observing Sirius more and more and noticing just the small things that he absolutely loved about him. Like the way he always smacked any nearby surface whenever he laughed, the way he subtly checked his surroundings before doing anything dramatic because contrary to popular belief, he actually did care what some people thought of him. Remus loved the way Sirius’s eyebrows furrowed when he was deep in thought, and how he was able to fall asleep literally anywhere. He loved Sirius’s smile, Sirius’s laugh, Sirius’s eyes. He loved Sirius Black more than anything in this world.

Remus felt like his heart could literally explode from loving Sirius so damn much and he couldn’t fathom how he hadn’t noticed it till now. It was obvious. Even Snape could sense it from a mile off. But if Snape assumed they were boyfriends, then.... did Sirius like him back? Was he still being blind in seeing his feelings reciprocated?

He knew he needed to find out. Sirius was the type of guy to accept Remus’s feelings without it making their friendship weird. Remus wasn’t scared of admitting his feelings to Sirius, he was just scared that the feelings were unrequited.

It was a Friday afternoon, during lunch. Remus and Sirius had just finished a lesson together and James and Peter where elsewhere so the perfect opportunity had arisen. Remus knew this was the time. The adrenaline coursed through his veins urging him to grab Sirius and pull him aside to blurt out his feelings in hopes they would fall into each other’s arms and live happily ever after.

But the moment was almost past, they were walking towards the Great Hall; any moment they could run into their other friends and Remus wouldn’t get a chance. Remus felt sick in his stomach thinking about how he’d missed his perfect moment to tell Sirius. Without so much as a second thought, Remus blurted out, “can I ask you something?”

Sirius stopped and turned to him. “Yeah?”

Remus pulled him aside, away from the crowd of chattering students. He could hear his heart beating loudly. “Do you- uh, have you ever.... thought about... ugh sorry. I don’t know how to say it.”

Sirius was trying to read him but seemed to be failing in doing so, which wasn’t surprising given his loss for words.

“You know what Snape said the other day?” Remus finally said, looking Sirius in the eye nervously. “About us being... about me being your, uh, boyfriend?”

“Yeah...”

“What do you think about it? I mean, I’ve been thinking about it a lot since he said it... and I... guess I like you. As more than a friend. So I was just wondering how you felt? About me?”

Sirius’s eyes had widened and he almost looked like he was going to laugh. Remus held his breath, awaiting the inevitable, “I’m straight” that he was sure was coming.

“What date is it today?” Sirius asked, much to Remus’s surprise.

“Huh?”

“What date? It’s not 1st April is it? This isn’t a prank is it?”

“What? No! Of course not!” Remus said quickly. “I’d never do this sort of thing as a prank.”

“So you... really like me?” Sirius asked. “Romantically?”

Remus nodded wordlessly, feeling his cheeks grow hotter.

“I- wow. I can’t believe it. I’ve been in love with you for like a year now, but never in a million years would I have thought you’d ever like me back!”

Remus felt as though he was hearing things wrong. This was too good to be true. His feelings were actually reciprocated?

He couldn’t stop his face from cracking into a grin. “Really?”

Sirius grinned back. “Really.”

“So.... um.... should we do anything about it?” Remus asked.

“Hm, like what?”

“What do you want to do?”

Sirius leaned back against the wall and smirked. “Kiss me.”

Remus couldn’t deny Sirius looked insanely hot right now, he definitely wanted to kiss him, and there wasn’t a student in sight to see them. All he had to do was to step forward and their lips would be touching.

“I’m not just kissing some random guy,” Remus said slowly. “If he was my boyfriend, then maybe....”

Sirius reached his hand out and took Remus’s, his eyes glimmering teasingly. “Remus Lupin, are you asking me to be your boyfriend?”

“No, I’m waiting for you to ask me.”

“Oh, well then,” Sirius said, clearing his throat and getting down on one knee.

“Oh Merlin,” Remus laughed, glancing around to make sure nobody was around - they were in the all clear.

“Will you be my boyfriend?” Sirius asked, staring up at Remus with hopeful eyes.

Remus smiled and nodded, whispering, “of course,” before pulling Sirius back up and pushing him back against the wall and pressing his lips against Sirius’s, softly, sweetly until they both had to pull apart to catch their breath.

“Get a room,” came Snape’s voice from behind them, and for once Sirius didn’t say anything back, he only burst into laughter along with Remus and then pulled Remus in for another kiss.

“Well.... at least we have..... something to thank.... Snape for,” Remus murmured between kisses.

“Yeah but.... let’s not talk about him.... while... mmm..... kissing.... ‘kay?” Sirius mumbled back.

Remus smiled against Sirius’s lips. “Okay.”

[laceymorganwrites]

Brokenhearts Club: Stone Cold

Word count: 1,626

Pairing: none, Saeko x her husband

Warnings: angst, swearing, heartbreak, unrequited love

Song: Stone Cold - Demi Lovato

Taglist: @vicassa @ashhhh26 @luckypartyranchmug @chaelysian @2o-done @hoho-cham @thatnikkixx @solarskiesdream @mattsuns-prettybaby @moonlightaangel @madusas-girlfriend @d-angerboys @lulu-102 @anejuuuuoy @killmeplz-uwu @serihandfn @atsumubabe​ @chibioomi​ @onlyshinji​

Female reader

Stone cold, stone cold

You have known Saeko all your life. Starting from kindergarten, going to middle school and then to high school together. You were inseparable, far more than just best friends. You two spent so much time at the other´s house that your families already merged together. It was nice, or it would´ve been.

Such strong bonds, such a pure and wonderful friendship, you did everything together, shared everything. Well, almost everything.

But it was normal to keep secrets, wasn´t it? Especially when those secrets could destroy everything you have built over the years.

Well, it was your own fault. You shouldn´t fall for your best friend, that was common knowledge.

You see me standing but I´m dying on the floor

But you just couldn´t stop yourself, Saeko made it too easy.

She was too charming for her own good, too beautiful, too funny, too caring…

If only she liked women.

But then again, even if she did, you´d never be more than just friends.

It was a harsh truth that you realized over the years and the more time passed, the more it manifested.

The best choice would´ve been to break off contact with her to get over her, but how could you?

You´d rather live with your heartbreak than to ever live a life without Saeko in it.

Besides… you´d get used to the dull ache eventually.

That was what you had hoped all these years, an almost extinguished hope you just couldn´t let go no matter how much it hurt.

Maybe all of this made you a masochist.

But you didn´t care.

How could you care when you could see Saeko be happy and smile, fall in love? Even if it was not with you.

Even if it could never be with you. 

Maybe if I don´t cry I won´t feel anymore

You should distance yourself from her, you shouldn´t clutch onto her like she was the only thing keeping you alive. 

But you were too far gone at this point, too much in love, too dependent on her.

If you were to leave, you´d miss her touch and presence more than anything else

You´d always fall back into her arms whenever she hugged you out of joy, despite your heart hurting oh so much, you´d always let her compliment you when shopping together, living in your fantasy world where all of this meant something.

The worst thing was when she got a boyfriend and of course told you everything about it and him in great detail.

He was a great guy, really, you wished them the best, you knew that he could give Saeko everything she deserved and more, everything she ever wanted.

And still.

It wasn´t you.

The thought alone hurt so much it was almost unbearable, it was fucked up. You knew that Saeko was bound to fall in love with a man, you shouldn´t have held onto this false hope, she would never love you the way you loved her.

But you couldn´t control your emotions.

Especially not when she told you that they got engaged, asking you to be her bridesmaid and help her with the preparations.

This was it. The last piece of your heart shattering. 

You´re dancing with her while I´m staring at my phone

However the whole process, watching her be so happy with someone else, it brought you pain you didn´t even know you could feel.

You were with her when she got her dress, the decorations and the cake.

You were with her at every phone call, every important date and you hated it.

But most of all you hated yourself for desperately hanging on.

It was like you were dependent on her.

She was a virus in your life, eating away at all your hope and your fragile heart and you let her because it was so addicting, so ecstatic, so immaculate.

Yes, maybe you became more than a tad bit masochistic because of her.

And so what?

That was your way to cope…

Well, to run away from facing the truth, you desperately tried to hold up the facade of being just friends.

I was your amber, but now she´s your shade of gold

Everything came crashing down on you at Saeko´s bachelorette party.

It was bad enough to plan it, to watch her try on all those outfits that shouldn´t fit so perfectly.

But then again, everything looked so good on her, you realized early on that Saeko simply couldn´t look bad, not even mediocre.

She was always the prettiest in the room.

Everyone´s eyes were on her but there was only one person she returned the favor to.

And it most definitely wasn´t you.

And it never would be.

This fact would always be repeated inside your head and yet it just wouldn´t stick.

It didn´t hurt to dream, right?

Though dreaming didn´t get you anywhere, not that you actually wanted to pursue her.

No.

You´d never do that, her happiness was far more important than your own.

Dreaming about being with her the way you always wanted only hurt you more.

When you arrived at her doorstep after the party was over to say goodbye, every single one of your emotions seemed to overflow.

It was all too much.

Too much pent up frustration and your broken heart screamed bloody murder.

Your head was spinning from the alcohol and you started feeling sick, you were still supporting Saeko who drank way more than you and could barely walk in a straight line.

“I´m getting married tomorrow!” she slurred, laughing loudly and turned around to you with those big bright eyes and you wanted nothing more than to kiss her.

Saeko slipped a bit and fell against you, but you managed to catch her so that you two hugged now.

Your heart started beating faster and you knew you were about to do something stupid, but you couldn´t stop yourself.

“I love you…” you whispered, sounding almost hysterical, your voice strained with the pain of your feelings but Saeko was too drunk to recognize that.

“Aww, I love ya too! You´re my best friend” she hugged you even tighter and it felt like a thousand knives digging into your skin.

You wanted to scream.

God knows I tried to feel happy for you

“I fucking know...you´ll never see me as anything more than a friend and that´s okay, I can´t control who you love, but goddamn, it hurts….I want you to be happy but it hurts to goddamn much…” you thought, unable to stop the tears that were streaming down your face.

Saeko drunkenly smiled at you one last time before shutting the door and falling asleep next to the man who´d be her husband tomorrow.

You were alone in your bed, as always, and unable to sleep.

Nothing new.

The next morning you got up only reluctantly, not wanting this day to happen at all and wanting to get it over with as soon as possible at the same time.

After you were done getting ready and drove to Saeko´s place to help her get ready, you stood in front of her door for a bit before actually entering.

The events of last nights went through your head the whole night and still you were embarrassed even though Saeko didn´t remember any of it.

Instead of looking at you disgusted, she greeted you like usual, hugging you tight and rambling on about how excited she was to finally get married.

You helped prepare everything else that needed to be done and then tried to calm Saeko down as best as you could before sitting down on your designated seat.

Caught in your head you imagined what it would be like to be the one waiting for Saeko instead of her fiance. If only she´d smile at you that way, if only you could embrace her like that, if only the love in her eyes was dedicated to you.

It hurt seeing all of that belong to the luckiest man on the planet who now looked at the beautiful bride walking down the aisle with bright and loving eyes.

The ceremony passed like white noise for you, maybe it was a defense mechanism from your body that prevented your heart from being completely obliterated.

Biting your lip until it was bloody, you tried your hardest to look somewhat happy.

Needless to say, you failed.

You wanted to escape to the restroom and cry your eyes out, but you were frozen in place, stuck, you just couldn´t move.

Maybe you were more of a masochist than you realized.

Everything around you was happening in a fast forward motion and in slow motion at the same time, making you dizzy.

You knew that people were approaching you, talking to you, saying how happy they were for Saeko, but you didn´t respond.

You couldn´t.

It was like you were having the most fucked up and pathetic out of body experience of all.

Your eyes caught Saeko laughing with her husband as they had their first dance.

She looked so beautiful, so happy.

Everything was perfect.

For her.

You gulped, balling your fists and digging your nails into your flesh to stop your tears from falling.

To no avail.

You could feel your eyes burning and ignored everyone who asked if you were okay.

Okay.

When have you ever been okay? You wasted your whole life pining after someone who´d never love you. And that realization hurt. It hurt that you knew all along, but the dire consequences and meaning seemed to be only sinking in just now.

Maybe you wanted to be happy too.

Even if it could never be with her.

If happy is her, I´m happy for you

[mendesficsxbombay]

send noods (II) | s.m

part 1 here 

only took me about 8 years to complete this haha (more like 2 months but you get it) this is the longest fic I have written so far (over 6K what it do baby!!) I hope you like it!

Shawn silently shuts the door to her room after making sure she’s safely fallen asleep, well fed and high on “wormies” (Stomach worm medicines. Zahra Ameen shortens things as she likes to, and you are expected to accept that.) He hadn’t bothered a lot with his phone since he got here, so when he pulls out his phone to finally check it, he’s not surprised to see the flood of notifications. The only people who really needed to know where he was were his mom, Zahra, and Zachary, his roommate. “Zach” for short, “whiteboy supreme” for Zahra. 

His fingers danced across the screen typing back replies to each of his project partners for their assignments due in the following weeks. She really couldn’t have chosen a worse time to fall sick because their mid terms were around the corner, a truck load of assignments lined up for both of them, and he’s thinking of ways he can probably do some of her stuff so she has lesser work to get back to when she recovers. Recovers, he thinks to himself as his mom’s words ring through his head. “She has a bug, baby, she’s not diseased, and she’s a strong girl and I need you to be a strong boy right now.” He silently huffs to himself because what does his mom know anyway? (everything.) He decides to quickly dash out and grab his laptop and notes over to her room so he can stay with her and work at the same time. 

He shoots her roommate a text about going back to his dorm and runs out. Back in their room, Zach silently watches Shawn pack his things like he’s preparing for exile. His laptop, chargers, notes for 3 different courses, his nighttime face cream, a towel, a power bank, a sanitiser is tossed in and he’s pretty sure he sees a his family photo thrown in somewhere. 

“Got everything you need, Shawnie?” Zach walks over and throws his arms around him from the back, clutching him tight. “I’m going to miss you so much.”

Shawn lets out a yelp as Zach becomes dead weight on him, forcing him to fall face first onto the bed, both now laying flat on what once was a pile of Shawn’s belongings. “Zach you know I can’t pack with you playing dead ON me, right? Move, jackass.”

Zach rolls over, propping his head up on one hand and continues to observe him, “you know I’ve noticed a few things about you, these days, Shawnie. And in my expert opinion I would like to diagnose you with a serious case of unrequited love, the subject in case being a girl currently diseased and lying in her bed high on wormies while you pack to move in with her-”

“I’m not moving in with her-”

“Interrupting is bad manners, you know? As I was saying, you are packing to move in with her, and I highly doubt she feels the exact same way about you, bro.”

“Okay, Zach. Get to the point, what do you mean, here?”

“See, I just don’t see her doing the same for you! If it weren’t for her staying over with you for your regularly scheduled, uh, activities, I would say that she wouldn’t come over at all! It’s always you going to her! Don’t you see that? It’s one sided!”

Shawn was still staring at him with a blank expression, still not sure where this whole conversation was going. “Zach, I need you to try and make more sense. I know it’s hard, but please.”

“Shawn, Zahra only has to breathe in your direction for you to be all heart eyes for her, like someone just says her name and you start blushing,” and unfortunately for him, he did start blushing again, “SEE? Shawn, full offense, I think you’re whipped trash and she’s just - not. I don’t think she feels as much as you do, and it’s really cute that you want to wait hand and foot on her, but it’s not reciprocated!”

Shawn looks away, unsure of how to tell him that it is, in fact reciprocated. They had talked their feelings out when they went home for winter break, made love till they couldn’t anymore and then talked some more and fucked some more. It was taken care of, Zahra Ameen was in love with him, too and they weren’t even dating yet. 

“It is, actually,” Shawn starts.

“It’s what?”

“Reciprocated.”

“Did she tell you that?”

“Yes.”

“When?”

“When we we went back home.”

“She told you she likes you?”

“She told me she loves me.”

“She told you she loves you?”

“Yes.”

Both of them took a moment to just look at each other, Zach getting pensive, until he flung a deodorant at him. “She told you she loves you A MONTH ago and you didn’t tell me?”

Shawn ducks just in time, the bottle landing somewhere behind him. “We’re barely learning to say it ourselves, Zach, it’s not exactly meant to be advertised right now,” he was exasperated, he’d been through the same cycle with his friends before, as had she with hers. People didn’t understand their dynamic, and they didn’t expect them to. They’d grown from being close to closer at their own pace and all while being exclusive without even trying, they were good at being them and there wasn’t ever a time they needed validation from anyone else. “And even if we did you guys would start grilling us for not dating and being in love, why am I meant to-”

“Hey, hey Shawnie listen,” Zach steadies him by holding his shoulders down, “I’m happy for you, bro, if you’re happy with her then I’m happy too, I was only worried because you were all in, you know? And I don’t want to see you get hurt man, you know what I was like after Rachel last year.”

“You saw Rachel for 3 days and decided you were in love with her without talking to her and she’d had a boyfriend for months before that, Zach I’m not sure how that counts as heartbreak…”

“What are you? The heartbreak police? I’m telling you, I was in a one sided relationship-”

“It was NOT a relationship, Za-”

“What did I tell you about not policing me, Shawn? Now, glad we decided to have this conversation, I’m glad both of you are equally whipped for each other, you need to pack up and get to her dorm before she wakes up or else - I don’t know man I don’t want a repeat of last time.”

Shawn snickers lightly, taking in how Zach was actually disturbed at the thought of Zahra screaming at him for messing around with her a few weeks ago. Shawn and Zahra had a few ground rules. One of them being they never left the other sleeping in bed without telling them where they went - this way they never had to wake up alone, wondering where the other went. Waking up alone after not going to sleep alone was one of Zahra’s deepest fears, and she’d had a hard time communicating that to absolutely everyone except Shawn. She’d rambled on and on about the why and how before he simply said, “Don’t leave you alone in bed. Got it.” And so, a few weeks ago when Shawn went to shower and Zahra woke up without him, Zach told her he left for the day and didn’t want to wake her up. She was a second away from crying when Shawn came out of the shower and kissed her good morning. That was when she physically launched herself at Zach for making her believe he truly left her after she told him not to. 

Goes without saying that Zach had been afraid of messing with her, avoided her for a week straight right after the incident and promptly left the flat as soon as she came over all other times. Zach still grumbled as Shawn continued packing proceeding to catching him in a headlock and pressing down on the visible hickey she must’ve left on him the last time she came over. Shawn pushed him away whining about “how many times have I told you not to do that, you absolute fuck?” and received a loud, “if you’re so sensitive why don’t you ask her not to?”

And we all know that would never happen.

Another 10 minutes and Shawn had taken everything he thought he would need, Zach still not leaving his side.

“You got your dorm pass?”

“Yes”

“Library card?”

“Yes”

“Vitamins?”

“Yes”

“Condoms?”

“Ye- why would I need those? Are you out of-”

“You’re going to see the one person I know who loves the deed more that you do, just figured you need them at hand.”

“She’s practically an invalid right now, get your mind out of the gutter, Zachary”

“Hey I’m just saying I can’t take the responsibility of being a godfather anytime soon, bud.”

“Good thing you won’t be one, then.” Shawn pulled out his phone to check if she had woken up and texted him after seeing the sticky note he left on her bedside, but his heart stuttered a bit seeing her last texts to him.

Babiest to shawny boy : (3:11 pm): feeling icky tbh but i had a rly cute guy come over to nurse me back to life

Babiest : (3:11 pm):  he is the greatest souper on the world

Babiest : (3:11 pm): soup maker?

Babiest : (3:11 pm): might just fuck around and wife him up while you’re not watching. Love u 

Did anyone go over to her’s while he wasn’t there? Not to brag, but he’s makes the sickest soups he knows, how could someone except his mom and her mom possibly come close to the absolute delicacy that is his world famous noodle soup? Why would she want to wife- I mean, be with someone else when he exists? And they exchanged the L word pretty recently, too, or did she not mean it? Why would she say it if she did not mean it? And if he’s honest, she does deserve the world, and he’s willing and ready to give it to her but if she wants it from someone else, who was he to stop her? He would wish it was him though. It always felt like it was. 

He continued staring at the texts till Zach snapped him out of it, and he blinked away tears he didn’t know he had. “Hey, can you read these?”

He handed his phone over and continued pacing around the room, constantly running running his hands through his hair, biting his nails, just to have an outlet. Zach bit his lip reading the texts, unsure of how to respond. He wasn’t there when this went down, how was he to know if she was talking about Shawn or someone else? 

“Bro, do you think there’s someone else?”

“I don’t know, I think…,” Shawn looked away, not wanting to cry when he doesn’t know anything for sure and definitely not wanting to do it in front of Zach because he was the easiest crier he knew. One person composing themselves is better than two of them losing it. The energy in the room had shifted in the matter of seconds. The airy, playful banter was gone as quick as it came, signs of possible heartache hanging over both of their heads now. Their friendship worked in funny ways, sometimes. Zach took on responsibility as quick as he could, and Shawn could let go of his voice of reason for Zach’s sake at any given point. If what both of them were thinking did turn out to be true, it would be the first time Shawn would have to wear his heart on his sleeve rather than the other way around. 

“You can say whatever you want, you know that Shawny,” he sighed, looking back down at the texts. “We don’t judge around here…”

Shawn didn’t face him for a bit. He couldn’t and he didn’t want to. He continued crossing the length of his room while Zach resumed his spot on the bed, watching him intently. A few more rounds and he came to halt abruptly in front of him, eyes red from not crying, it’s a thing that happened to him. He let out a sounded that felt something like the air was choked out of him and he’d been punched in the gut.

“She told me she loved me, Zach.” And Zach started crying, and Shawn was about to join in until his ring tone cut them off.

It was Zahra calling. 

__________________________

Zahra sighed for the third time in 5 minutes, she was having a hard time finding relevant information for Shawn’s next research paper. Her eyes were strained now and the pads of her fingers felt scratched into after working on her laptop’s touch pad for so long. Her hands uncovered her face and lay flat on the table in front of her as she leaned forward to stare at the screen as if that would make things fall in place together. She felt a finger link with her pinky, a soft, tired smile growing on her face as his thumb ran across the back of her hand. Shawn had a few nervous ticks, the easiest to ground him was through physical contact, easier so when she was around. Zahra flipped her hand over slowly, letting his fingers intertwine with hers, seeing him furrow his eyebrows over a particularly hard piece of writing and thinking of how quick the library matron would shoo them out of there if she just leaned over and gave him a few kisses, not many, just a few. She spared a glance around the relatively empty section they had found, and decided that loving on her boy for a bit was more important at the moment than having a secluded working environment. 

She leaned closer, pulling him in by the side of his face to pepper kisses across his temple down to his cheeks. She felt his cheeks grow into a smile under her lips, a soft, “I’m trying to concentrate, baby,” coming through. “You work too hard,” she mumbled, finally pulling his face her way and kissing him for real. He reacted naturally, pressing down on her chin so she’d let him kiss her as he pleased, rubbing his thumb across her cheeks now. 

It was her turn to smile as she felt his tongue pad across her lower lip, pulling away slightly to brush his nose against hers. Another Shawn and Zahra thing. She leaned back in, mirroring Shawn’s actions and swiping her tongue against his lip softly, keening as she heard him hum softly. He caught her chin again, but to lightly pull away this time.

“Control yourself, Ms. Ameen, we’re still in the library and your membership could be revoked if someone caught you engaging in such a lewd act,” he grinned lightly, pecking her one last time before getting back to work. 

“Lewd act? Really? As if this is the worst we’ve ever done,” he tries to shush her but she continues anyway, “Remember when we went behind the bleachers after your game last ye-”

“Shut up, Zahra, honestly,” it was his turn to blush furiously, “don’t you have a paper to finish?”

“Your paper, you mean?” She rolls her eyes at him and he’s endeared to no end, really. As she slips her hand back into his, laying her flat on the desk before her presumably to take a break, his heart feels slight pangs that turn to jabs till he thinks he probably cannot breathe anymore. The day he read the texts, he went over to her house anyway, and there’s a lot of things Shawn Mendes was capable of but staying away from Zahra Ameen was not one of them. So he’d gone over, hugged her and kissed her like he always did and promptly ignored her when she giddily asked him if he got her texts. 

Her face fell when he chose not to answer her, and she’s not used to not getting a reply from him so she pressed a bit more till he brought in the remaining soup for her to finish and go back to sleep. He knew they were coming to an end, sooner than he expected, and he actually didn’t expect this at all. An unfortunate part of him believed they were it, they were endgame,  they were each other’s “ult faves” as Zahra said. All good things come to an end, though, and as much as he wished it was him and her at the end, he couldn’t dream if holding her back from anything. Maybe a better love was in store for her, and the least he could do was let her have it, the most he could do was hold onto whatever they had until she told him the truth. 

He didn’t stop with the hand holding or the kisses or the I love you’s, and to his misery neither did she. If anything she became softer around him, killing him inside all while holding his hand. He thought it was just a way to make the blow softer, whenever the blow eventually comes. 

And now a week later as she held his hand under a desk in their university library, he wishes he had tried talking to her about it on the same day. It would spare him the pain of holding her hand and thinking it’s the last time he’ll ever get to do so, it was exhausting to constantly think of each time as their last. 

He looked up from their hands to see Amisha walking over, nudging Zahra to sit up and greet her classmate. She rubbed at her eyes, reminding him to get the mock papers he was supposed to refer to while writing his own. Shawn pulled away, grateful for the distance all of a sudden as he saw her get out of her seat for the first time in over 2 hours, hugging Amisha and catching up softly, keeping their voices to a whisper.

He thumbed through the piles of papers available to him, picking out a few randomly and signing in his name on the counter. At times he was grateful Zahra forced him to get a library card and then forced him to study with her endlessly because he had grown to love the place. As he walked back his tennis shoes made a light thwack sound against the marble of the surprisingly dead room, focusing back on Zahra. 

Amisha and Zahra had lots in common. They picked the same Majors, same Minors, happened to be the only two second year’s on the debate team and shared their heritage being two of the many Indian girls on campus. Amisha had also learned of how much Zahra loved their campus library, and made sure to her rounds each time she came in in hopes of running into her.

Zahra spoke animatedly about falling sick the previous week and as Amisha asked her if she’d started working on her own research papers due soon. “I have! I promise, just let me finish my boyfriend’s and I’ll get back to mine for reals,” the answer would’ve gone on for longer had they not heard a pile of something fall behind them, disturbing the silence around them. 

Shawn’s heart was in his mouth and his hands shook even after the papers slipped through. Boyfriend? Things had gotten to a point of Zahra having a boyfriend and she still let him kiss her?

“You okay, Bub?” Zahra rushed over, helping him get his precious mocks into one pile again and raising her brow when he didn’t reply, just stared at her dumbly. “Shawn?”

“Hey um, we have class beginning in 10 and the walk is usually takes us 15 so…” Zahra looked back at Amisha who looked ready to break into a sprint if she said the word. 

She nodded to the door and Amisha took the signal and left with her bookbag as Zahra frantically packed her own stuff, starting to throw instructions at Shawn for his remaining assignments, things like “I’ll email you the final design by tonight” and “we’ll finish your report writing by tomorrow” and “I’ll see how your business prof doesn’t give you the highest grade after seeing the model we’re working on, babe.”

dontcrydontcrydontcry he chanted in his mind, still not sure of what to tell her or how to react, the jabs felt in his heart again. She finally turned to him, cupping both his cheeks and pressing one long kiss to his lips, enough for him to make it through the day usually but right now, it didn’t feel like he’d make it through the next minute.

“We’re gonna crush this sem, baby,” she grinned, her eyes sparkling before she turned around and ran out after Amisha. He wasn’t sure if it was her leaving or the wind just not finding place in his lungs but his poor heart and his poor mind were barely hanging on by a thread. Thoughts of her consumed him within a second of her leaving, and his sanity seemed further and further away. He was used to feeling weak in the knees around her, but not so much in her absence.

_____________

Zach pulled his backpack up higher on his shoulder as he waited for his group to join him at the campus cafe he’d been waiting at for the past 10 minutes. His mind was working overtime as he didn’t know how he’d face Zahra while he knew how bad Shawn was taking the hit of their relationship. He hated the image of Shawn walking home with red rimmed eyes for the second time in the same week after he knew he met Zahra at the library. He didn’t have the heart to ask him the reason why because he already knew. 

Which is what brings him here, because he shared 2 classes with Zahra, and Shawn doesn’t. Zach was already nervous around her because she was at the top of most of her classes anyway, and she was in group project for this particular one. He wasn’t sure if he was supposed to act like everything was fine between them, or between her and Shawn. From what he gathered from Shawn, she acted like everything was fuckin’ dandy. A part of him wanted to call her out, hurt her for hurting his best friend but a bigger part of him knew how that would affect Shawn. To him Zahra had hung the moon, and Zach would comply for his sake. Seeing her walk towards him with the rest of their group, he took a deep breath, narrowing his eyes, as if he was preparing for attack. He didn’t gain second place in his school’s acting competition to never put his skills to use. If she could pretend, he could pretend, too. 

___________

He couldn’t pretend for the life of him. It had been two hours and all he did was stare at her with a blank expression, he would give mono-syllabic answers each time someone asked for his inputs and he could see her grow uncomfortable under his stare over time. They had their books and papers piled onto the table along with their coffees and snacks, he couldn’t even finish half of his iced coffee and Zach loved iced coffee. 

In his mind he played a dramatic scene where he stood up and screamed “How could you?!” in her face before throwing all their books off the table and saying something more like “You should be ashamed of yourself, Zahra Ameen,” or “How do you sleep at night knowing you’re a cheater?” and storming out of the cafe but a) Zach had social anxiety and therefore hated being the centre of attention and b) their notes were expensive and he wasn’t about to throw them to the floor anytime soon. And he would very much like to not be banned from the only cafe they have on campus, thank you very much. 

So all that was left for him to do was stare, and hope to God that it was enough for her to own up to what she did. She was in the middle of showing the group designs she had worked on in the past, trying to gain inspirations for their coming submission and he visibly winced as he recognised two of those as work she’d done for Shawn in the past. She accidentally picked up the mug next to her own and took a sip, nearly spitting it out and saying the most pained, “Is that peppermint hot chocolate?” The group all burst into laughter as her distaste for the poor drink just grew bigger.  “Why are you guys laughing? It’s genuinely the worst thing ever!! What kind of sociopath drank good ol’ hot chocolate and thought, hmm, how can I make the best thing in the world taste bad?”

“It’s not even bad, it’s like the upgraded version of hot chocolate, Zahra, you just don’t have taste,” the girl next to her giggled. 

“God, you sound exactly like my boyfriend, you guys should start a cult,” she rolled her eyes, “And as much as I don’t support this agenda, he loves this disgraced drink from the place on 21st, if you ever want to try it out.”

Zach looked like he’d seen a ghost. He looked like the life had been sucked out of him. His heart clenched and his hands shook. If this is how I’m feeling then what on earth is Shawn going through? He continues staring at her for just a second longer, mumbling the tiniest, lowest, “How could you, Zahra?” before he rushes to stuff his things into his bag, the group looking at him in his confusion. 

“Are you okay?” Of course she had to be the one to ask him that, that’s just how great his life is. 

“No - I mean, I have somewhere to be, bye,” and then he’s dashing out the door. He runs and runs, doesn’t stop until he reaches their dorm and barges inside their house. A few stray tears may or may not have fallen out in his state of frustration, and he sees Shawn by his desk and runs over and wraps his arms around him in the tightest hug he could muster. 

“I’m sorry, Shawn I’m so, so sorry you don’t deserve this,” he cries into his shoulder, “You deserve everything, bro, you deserve the world..”

Shawn was used to Zach crying at the smallest of things, he was an easy crier, that one. And yet he had never truly heard wails so heartbroken come from him, not even when Shawn made Zach watch The Notebook with him for the first time. He wraps his arms around Zach, trying to comfort him but to no avail, his cries growing deeper by the second. Shawn himself was spent, the past few days having taken a swing at his health, and this was the second day he had avoided the mirror. It was embarrassing how much he had let a girl  affect him but if he was being honest, he knew she was anything but. 

He shushed Zach again, now rubbing his back, telling him he couldn’t fix whatever it was that made him so sad if he didn’t talk to him at all. 

“It’s her, it’s Zahra she’s- she,” he could barely talk through his hiccups and Shawn’s heart broke at the mention of her all over again. He coaxed Zach into speaking more, “She does have a boyfriend, Shawn, she said it today, she said it in front of me like, she said her boyfriend loves some hot chocolate from the 21st street place and she - she knew I was right there in front of her, and she said it so easy, like she doesn’t even care, and why aren’t you saying anything?!”

What can I possibly say, he thought.

“It’s okay, buddy, she’s with someone else, that’s not the end of the world, is it?” he smiled weakly. It was though, he felt like his world was seconds away from burning every time he thought of her.

“But she’s - you - you love her, Shawn, and you’ve never loved like this before,” Zach cried out.

“I need you to calm down, first, Zachary,” he let out a dry laugh, ignoring his best friend’s protests, “She’s allowed to love someone else, buddy, I guess it wasn’t so requited after all… and if she’s happy with someone else… then I’m happy for her, I can’t be angry because she doesn’t love me back, that’s not fair on her or on me,” he sniffled a bit, looking away and ignoring the burn in his eyes, “I guess - I mean, I’ll always wish it was me and her at the end, you know? But you can’t fight for everything, that’s not how love works, it works when you’re at peace, and maybe I’m not at peace today or tomorrow but some day I will be…”

Zach watches his best friend struggle with his words, his emotions and mostly his love that he can’t contain no matter how much he tries. He can’t help but mumble back to him, “Shawn I know we’ve always been against physically abusing women but you remember Riya from freshman year? She won the Inter College women on women boxing championship this year, I can get her to rough Zahr-”

Shawn lets out the first laugh Zach has heard in days, smiling despite himself. “That won’t be necessary, we’re not sending someone to beat up the girl I still love.”

Shawn goes to get Zach some water now that he has finally calmed down with the crying and is now settling himself onto his bed when he hears a series of knocks on the door, a chill running down his spine when he realises only one person knew that pattern. Zach goes over to open the door before he can stop him. 

His face contorts almost immediately upon seeing Zahra, defence mode kicking in automatically. 

“Are you okay?” She starts, “You ran out of there like-”

“Shawn’s not here if you’re looking for him,” he snipes.

“Where is he?”

“He has a class right now.”

“Which one?”

“Integrated uh, Marketing.”

“Nice try, he had that class yesterday,” she shoves past him, entering their dorm and finding Shawn looking like a wounded puppy in the kitchen area. “Hi…” she says softly, careful to approach him. “You didn’t answer my calls or texts so I thought I’d come over to-“

“Now’s really not the time, Zahra, you should go,” he’d never asked her to leave, ever. And his heart broke as he saw her pretty face fall, the dull jabs in his heart making a return. 

“Oh, um,” she tried to find the correct thing to say to him, unsure of what she’d done wrong, “Is - are you okay? Is something wrong?”

“He said he doesn’t want to see you right now, Ameen,” Zach spits, moving to stand between the two of them, blocking Shawn protectively. 

Zahra’s heart fell to her stomach as she tried to remember what she could’ve done so bad that the whiteboy had to step in. 

“Okay, um, I’ll just leave this here then,” she put down the takeaway glass of peppermint hot chocolate that none of the boys had noticed till now, “Please drink it before it runs cold… and um, please call me?”

“You really have guts, huh,” Zach speaks up again, ignoring Shawn trying to hold him back. He sizes up Zahra, stepping closer to intimidate her, “You want to fool around with god knows who and still come around for him? I don’t know what made you think that this was ever okay-” but before he can complete himself Shawn puts a hand to his chest, pushing him away from her. 

“Remember what we said about scaring girls, Zachary,” Shawn keeps his voice low, “Let me handle this, please.”

Zach scoffs before heading to his room and slamming the door shut, and Shawn runs his hand down his face, preparing himself for the worse of this heartbreak. 

“Can you just tell me what’s going on? I have no idea-“

“When were you going to tell me?” It was Shawn’s turn to be mad.

“About what?” Her confusion only grew by the second, both boys talking in riddles.

“About you fucking someone else, Zahra, about you having a boyfriend.”

“I’m not fu- I have only been with you, Shawn.”

“See? That’s what you want me to believe? Zahra, I loved you, I gave you everything I had, and it wasn’t enough for you I get it, there’s better guys out there, and,” he sighs in annoyance, blinking his tears away for the fifth time in a day, mad at himself for being so emotional, for loving her so much his voice coming out in whimpers, “the least you could’ve done was tell me, baby, I would’ve let you go the second you said you wanted out, what did I do to deserve this?”

Zahra’s eyes pricked with tears as she saw him struggle to get the words out, tears streaming down his face. She moved closer to him to wipe them away but he just moved further away from her again, not willing for her to help. 

“Baba, I don’t know what you’re talking about I - I haven’t, I don’t want anyone but you - I really don’t know what you’re talking about, how am I supposed to give you an answer?” She croaked out, throat going dry at the thought of him hurting because of her. 

“So you still want to act like you don’t know? Fine, I’ll tell you.” She winced as his voice grew louder, she’d never seen him like this before. “That day at the library? When you told Amisha you were there with your boyfriend? And when I came over to your house when you were sick and god, Zahra I made you soup from scratch and you had the audacity to say you had some boy come over to take care of you and you wanted to wife them up? Like what the fuck was that about? But I let it slide because I loved you Zahra, you’re my best friend the least you could’ve done was lessen the blow - oh and today? When you told your group including Zach about this boy of yours? Do you need more reminders? You’re one to talk about people who cheat but look at you now, huh? Or do you not count this as cheating because, in your words we’re not even dating, are we?”

It falls into place in her head before she can form words to get it out. He had it all so, so wrong. It hurt her that he bottled up his feelings so much that he thought she realistically liked someone who wasn’t him. 

“Shawn,” she started calmly, “that day at the library, whose project was I working on?”

“How does it matter?” He scoffs, turning away from her again. 

“It does, please, whose project was I working on?”

“Mine? But who el-”

“And today with Zach, I told them about the peppermint hot chocolate from the place at 21st… who took me there for the first time?”

“That fucking boyfriend of yours? How am I supposed to know?”

“You did,” she whispered, “and in that cup behind you is peppermint hot chocolate, because you’re the only person I know who loves it so much.” She wipes her tears away, moving to hand him the cup. “I told you it would run cold.” 

He had visibly calmed down, trying to take in what she was trying to tell him. “What about the day I came over when you were sick?”

“You’re the only one who would bring the soup and take care of me. You’ve always been the only one.”

“Why didn’t you tell me before?”

“I didn’t think I’d need to, to be honest. After coming back to college this time, it felt like everything had finally fallen into place, you know? Like we had fallen into place. I know it’s not something I’d discussed this with you, but I only love you, you know? How could I ever want someone else?”

He looked down in shame, thinking of the mess he’d created. “Why didn’t you ask me?”

“About what?”

“Being your boyfriend?”

She wiped her nose, laughing out fully before looking him in the eyes and lowering herself on one knee. “If that’s where we’re still at,” she grins at him, “Shawn Mendes, will you be my only boyfriend?”

taglist: @shawnwyr​ @mendesstories​ @lanallaa​ @sleepybesson​ @rulerofnocountry​

dm to be added or removed ♥️

[haikyuuscreaming]

hi um so no one requested this but like i went through something basically like this and cried a whole lot about it and i dont think its even that angsty or makes sense but i just barfed it up as a vent fic so haha funny imi’s stupid and writes about her emotional exhaustion as an x reader 

heres an unrequited iwaizumi x reader :D (SORRY THIS ISNT FDSKFJ this isnt really a tumblr drabbles its more of an ao3 oneshot so)

(also sorry if none of the fic makes sense or flows well,,, i just wanted to get this out)

-

Ever since your first day at Kitagawa Daiichi, you found yourself with a crush on Iwaizumi Hajime.

You couldn’t help it. As soon as you saw him in your school-orientation group the week before school started, you couldn’t help but feel something more than a friendly glow. You were already sitting with your orientation group, but once you saw him join the group (albeit sort of late), your stomach practically flipped with butterflies.

He even sat down next to you.

The rest of the orientation went more than fine. Your delight when Iwaizumi started conversations with you was absolutely immeasurable. Even when your group was performing normal get-to-know-you activities, your heart seemed to race every time he made eye contact with you.

“Your name’s [Surname] [Name], right?” Iwaizumi asked, tapping his pencil against his desk. The orientation paper had asked for the names of three people in your group.

“Yeah.. and you’re Iwaizumi Hajime…?” You didn’t really need to question it, but you did so anyway to be polite.

“Mhm. Uh-- sorry, how do you spell your name?” Your heart picked up its pace once you heard him attempt to spell it out. To your feeble, gleeful surprise, he spelled it right.

“Oh! Um, that’s actually how you spell it. Thanks.”

“No problem.” He smiles at you and your seventh grade self felt like beaming brighter.

His impression on you had lasted.

In fact, that first impression on you had made your school year much better somehow.

Initially, you wanted to go to Yukigaoka with your best friends, but you ended up getting into Kitagawa Daiichi. You were miserable at the prospect of going into a school without your best friends that had been with you through thick and thin, but you lit up once you saw your schedule and found you had quite a few classes with Iwaizumi.

Throughout middle school, you made new friends and became close with Iwaizumi and his friend Oikawa Tooru. They eventually became one of your primary friend groups: you and them. Your number one best friend though, you found, was a new friend you made, Hanae.

Maybe the first mistake you made was telling her that you had a crush on Iwaizumi.

Okay, well, you didn’t tell her- she found out? Forced it out of you? Either way, not a big deal, you two are basically sisters now. But you did kind of wish she would stop mentioning it so much.

“Look, [Name]-chan~” she would always laugh and point at him discreetly whenever he was in the vicinity. “It’s your future boyfriend.”

It was always the same, every time.

“Would you shut up,” you complain, smacking her shoulder lightly which earned a laugh from her. “He could be listening!”

“Just telling the truth~” Hanae would always flash a smile back.

Things changed, though.

On a hang-out with Iwaizumi and Oikawa, you noticed their glances at each other-- Iwaizumi's being weary, while Oikawa’s was cheeky and sly.

“Hey, what are you two smiling about now?” you laugh lightly. The varied stares they gave you made you quiet down. “No, seriously, are you keeping secrets?”

“Of course not,” Oikawa chimes in. “Iwa-chan has big news though!”

Your heart rate spikes a little bit and you feel sweat beading on the back of your neck. And you're blushing too. Under Iwaizumi's warm, sharp gaze, you feel like melting under his radiance. “Eh? Haji, spit it out!!” Your anxiety falsely passes off as intrigue and excitement.

Flushing a little bit, Iwaizumi scratches his neck and smiles at you, “I wanted you to be the second to know, I have a girlfriend.”

…

You're shell-shocked.

If Oikawa picks up on it, he doesn't say so. “Seeee, [Name]-chan, I know we didn't believe it, but Iwa-chan finally snatched himself a girl!” Iwaizumi responds with a swift punch to the gut.

“I….” you can't find the words. You force yourself to smile like it's the only thing you can do. “Haji, that’s amazing!! Who is it? I didn't even know you had a crush…” Your voice falters but you push your words out as if your life depended on it. How did you manage to sound so genuinely happy when it felt like your entire world was about to crash?

Iwaizumi flushes again and you feel jealousy seep in. You so wish it was you that he blushes for. “Haha, yeah. Oikawa didn't know either for once; I didn't tell anyone, you know? Wasn't really sure yet. But it’s Aika-chan.” The way his face lights up burns a hole in your heart.

He even uses -chan for her. How special. The bitter envy feels like acid rising in your throat, and you feel queasy. Like you could keel over, cry, and puke out your guts.

“Ohhh, Aika-san is cute,” you make yourself say.

(Honestly, you're so good at lying and saying this wrong but right bullshit, you’d think you're a sociopathic robot or something.)

“Mmm… don't get jealous though, [Name]-chan, you're cuter!” Oikawa hums and you laugh loudly, hoping that you'll fake it till you make it. “Tell her how it happened, Iwa-chan. It was hilaaarious.”

The poison in you burns harsher but you nod along.

“Don't tell me what to do, Shittykawa,” Iwaizumi bites almost playfully, before meeting your blank gaze with his kind, gently blazing eyes that always made you weak. Right now, you were not weak in the good way. “Aika-chan confessed to me yesterday near the sakura tree after we had class together… and I don't know, I guess it really clued me in that the feelings I had were real.”

(Iwaizumi looks so happy and content that it makes you want to be happy too, but you honestly feel like doing nothing but crying.)

“Aww, that's so sweet~” Your voice gets softer and you hate yourself so much for sounding weak.

But before either boy can reply, the panic and agony sets in. You feel your eyes glass up and your body tense, and your mind is begging you not to break down.

Unfortunately, they both notice.

“[Name]-chan? Are you okay?? You look kinda sick~” Oikawa sounds cheery and playful but his eyes convey an undercurrent of worry.

And bless Iwaizumi’s stupidly handsome oblivion, he blinks at your worriedly and puts a hand on your shoulder to steady you. “Do you need to go to the nurse? School’s still open I think, and it's right around the corner-”

Fuck him and his mind-meltingly handsome everything. Just his voice and his sharp gaze makes you want to cry harder and collapse to him.

“I-I have to go, sorry guys,” You fucking despise how cracked your voice is becoming as your facade slips. “I promised Hanae that I'd go get bubble tea with her. See you Monday.”

Eyes stinging, you turn as quick as you can and ignore their confused voices.

(The tears flow like acid and you feel like dissolving from the inside out.)

Months pass and you deny your horrifyingly strong yet compressed feelings.

You greet Aika and Iwaizumi in the hallways, and you know that you're happy because Iwaizumi is, and that's honestly all you could ask for your long-time crush (turned bitter love). You even talk to Aika freely during shared classes, just to disguise your depressing jealousy.

Every time you see them share a discreet kiss or grip each other's hands, you genuinely wish you were dying. It sure feels like you are.

(Like you're drowning, like your lungs are burning up and you're begging for oxygen, begging to breathe in Iwaizumi's love that's reserved for someone else. It hurts a lot but he's happy.)

(So you have to be happy.)

Hanae spares you sympathetic looks. “Come on, wifey-chan, you're married to meee. Get over him, he doesn't deserve you if he chose Aika the troll over you.”

“That's mean,” you sigh and crumble onto Hanae. “Aika-san’s nice. And pretty. And talented. It's no wonder Haji would choose her.”

“Stopppp! You’re so much more than Troll-chan, okay?!?” Hanae’s pep talk is brash, but you appreciate the charm. “If Iwaizumi-kun doesn’t see that, I’ll punch him.”

You laugh lightly at the fact that Hanae had talked to Iwaizumi enough to be calling him kun, but your voice is still heavy despite the sentiment. “You're so weird. But that's why I love you.”

“Of course you do~”

On another innocent hang-out with Iwaizumi and Oikawa, you’re met with abrupt news.

“Aika and I broke up.” Iwaizumi mutters softly.

“Eeeeh?!” You’re shell-shocked again, but you'd be lying if you said you were crushed like last time. “But-- but you guys were doing so well! You were the cutest couple!”

“She broke up with him over text,” Oikawa chimes in and you gape as Iwaizumi punches him again. “Two days ago.”

“She what-”

“She said she wasn't ready for a relationship,” is all Iwaizumi says.

You feel heartbreak and burning pity boil inside of you. “I-I’m so sorry, Haji… you didn't deserve that. You'll find someone better.”

Me. It's me, I promise I won't break your heart the way she did, because you're all I ever wanted.

He nods and for the first time in a while, he hugs you tight. “Yeah..”

It breaks you because it feels so good, his embrace warming you.

But it breaks you more to hear him whisper, “I can’t get over her though.”

(You just wanted him to be happy but he can’t. You can’t fix it.)

“You will,” you breathe out, trying not to let the tears slip. “You’re gonna be okay.”

(You know you’re not.)

But you don’t say that when you feel Iwaizumi’s shaky breath and him muttering, “Thanks.”

“Oh my god, [Name], did you hear about Hajime-kun?” Hanae’s alarmed voice three days later makes you concerned.

First of all, Hajime-kun-- “W-What? What happened now??” Nonetheless, panic still seeps into you.

“Aika broke up with him!!” Hanae seems so worked up over this and you wonder, how close is she to him? “Can you believe it?? She really threw away one of the best people in school!”

Shouldn’t I be saying that…? “Yeah, I know…” you try not to sound too bitter. “But like, it’s not really her fault she wasn’t ready for a relationship..”

Hanae huffs and crosses her arms, leaning onto you. “Well, I mean you’re right, but she shouldn’t have signed herself up for it if this was gonna happen. I feel so bad for him.” You’re about to layer on your argument, but Hanae straightens up and smirks. “See, your man’s single. Shoot your shot!”

“Right after a break-up?? Hanae, you’re batshit crazy-”

“Uh, well, make him like you, then shoot your shot!”

Your head and heart kind of hurts from all this talk about Iwaizumi, no matter how smitten you are for him, so you just blindly nod and agree.

It works for the rest of the day until you get home and cry into your pillow, wondering what to do.

Hope is re-kindled into you.

Over the past two-ish months, post-breakup, you find that comforting Iwaizumi makes you feel much better than wallowing in your self-pity. It’s a win-win: you’re putting even more of his trust into you, you two are getting even closer, and this could quite possibly end up in a great situation.

You melt at the sight of Iwaizumi, and every day you can see happiness soak back into him. Every time he laughs at one of your stupid jokes or grins at you while you rant and complain, you feel like your heart stops out of complete adoration of how stunning he is in every way you can think of.

He isn't perfect, but you think he's the perfect match for you.

And one day, at a study “date” (you try very hard not to take that term to heart!!) at a café, Iwaizumi peers up from laptop and gives you his signature, gruff yet content smile and says, “You know, I don't think I need Aika anymore.”

(You want to kiss him.)

It’s honestly been a shitty time for you and your friends, you realize.

Hanae broke up with her boyfriend, as you would have figured over the past few weeks she’s been ranting to you about how annoying and clingy and overprotective he is, but you found that she broke up with him over text. Oikawa went through three girlfriends in a month, to which he pouted and whined about but you knew he was secretly relieved that he didn’t have to carry more burden. And there’s the whole heartache Iwaizumi thing, even though things have been getting relatively better.

(You also realize amongst all your friends, you’re the only one who’s stayed very, very very single. You hope that’ll change soon.)

Things are going absolutely amazing with Iwaizumi. Even Oikawa’s been smirking at you and teasing you about your “true love” (to which you frustratedly deny but you honestly know that it’s just the truth when you consider your feelings for him). The two of you have felt confident enough to spend time with each other at your respective homes without feeling awkward or the need to have Oikawa there to provide a third wheel. You couldn’t wish for anything more.

So now you’re at a family-friend’s party, lounging on the couch away from the scene, on your phone. It’s so loud, but you’re content and refreshed on all the snacks you’ve practically been inhaling. Your phone pings in your hand and you glance up at the notification you’ve just received.

Oh, a text~

It’s from Hanae.

poopy hanae >:)): [name] are you busyyy

YOU: no not really

YOU: just at a party

poopy hanae >:)): OH okay so um can i tell you something but

poopy hanae >:)): i dont want you to get mad or sad ...so please let me just finish my texts

YOU: ?? yea go ahead , ill wait for you to finish :)

You feel kind of nervous once she puts it like that, but you let her continue.

poopy hanae >:)): remember how after my break up i promised i wouldn’t fall for anyone else, not for a while yk? i promised that to me and him: i wouldn’t let my heart get broken or whatever. but i found out that i don’t think i’ve ever really fallen for my ex. i think i just dated him because i felt bad and felt like i had to date him because i didn’t wanna reject him… but it happened still. but i think i’m in love now. honestly.

poopy hanae >:)): i’ve never felt this way around any guy before, not my ex, not anyone. everytime i see him my heart goes crazy, and i want to talk to him all the time. he’s just so perfect in every way. he’s so smart, he’s handsome as hell, he’s strong and caring… and i promised both of you i wouldn’t fall for anyone else but i broke that promise to him, you, and me. and i think you’ve figured out who he is now.

poopy hanae >:((: i’m sorry i can’t help it. i didn’t want to tell you because that would make our friendship weird but i hope now we’re at the stage where we will still be best friends regardless of him. i’m truly in love with iwaizumi hajime and i’m gonna confess to him on monday (tmr). i love him so much but i want you to know i love you more so he won’t ever get in the way of us. ily <3

The more you read the message, the more it makes you want to cry. Your hand starts trembling around your milk tea and you feel your face warm up, your eyes glassing over and your vision blurring. Stumbling your way into the bathroom, you lock yourself inside, staring at yourself in the mirror. You watch your delicate, shaking features in the mirror as the first bitter tear rolls down your cheek. More tears follow.

Sobs wrack your body and hot tears glide down your face, constantly, like a river. Whimpers escape you, and your lips are cracked and dry, and you keep thinking, Why would she do this to me?

YOU: ahaha it’s okay!!!

YOU: a boy shouldn’t get between us, ly :) make him happy

YOU: you desrvee him mroe than anbyody else

You cover your mouth with your shaking fingers in hopes that the others can’t hear you outside over the music.

You pretend it’s fine the next day at school.

Hanae doesn’t even mention it, but she hugs you a lot more and keeps whispering, “I love you”. The bitterness has sunken in a little bit and you resist the urge to tell her, It doesn’t change the fact that you broke me, but you figure that it’ll be okay.

You’ll just lose your feelings for Iwaizumi so she doesn’t have “competition”.

(It turns out to be harder than you think.)

When you see Iwaizumi at lunch, his smile never fails to make you flush a little bit and make you feel so warm and comfy. When he sits down next to you (!! ahhh!) since Hanae was in line for lunch, he makes a sigh-grunt noise as he nestles his chin into the crook of his palm. Oikawa, bless his dumb ass, sidles down next to you, making a dramatic sigh.

“Did you know Hanae-chan confessed to Iwa-chan today?”

You try so, so SO hard not to tense. “Yeah. She told me a few days ago that she- she was in love with him.”

(The way your voice cracks at “in love” is pathetic, you think.)

You don’t miss the way Oikawa’s face briefly flashes a frown at you before morphing back into his signature pretty-boy smile. Iwaizumi looks a little embarrassed to be talking about this but he nods. “Yeah, she pulled me aside right before lunch and… yeah. It was so embarrassing…” You’re in fucking awe of how cute he is even when he’s distressed, but you remind yourself (with a pang of bitterness) that you aren’t supposed to think that anymore.

“And I turned her down,” Iwaizumi continues, and your ears almost fucking pop at the noise. He- how, what? Why? “‘Cause I don’t know, I never really felt that way about her. I guess that’s why she’s been talking to me more and more lately. She said she understood if I wasn’t ready to move on ‘cause of Aika and stuff, but.. she said something like she’ll change my mind.” He snorts and murmurs, “I don’t think that’ll happen, honestly.”

Oikawa laughs, a peppery laugh accompanied with a side-eyed glance towards you. “Iwa-chan, you’re such a brute~ You sure that’s the only reason you turned her down?”

Iwaizumi lets out a snort again. “Yeah.. I’m over Aika now, but I don’t think I’m ready for a relationship. Plus, there isn’t anyone that I like like now. Hanae doesn’t stand out.”

The statement makes you crumble on the inside.

You idiot of a best friend. What good are you if you don’t stand up for Hanae?

But it doesn’t matter! He said he has no interest in anyone, including you. Or her. It’s pointless, futile. He never even considered you.

You’re so stupid, so worthless sometimes. You’re the worst. It doesn’t matter if you would go to the end of the world for Hajime. You have to give this up for her. Fight for her because he would never settle for someone like you.

You fight back the sob crawling in your throat, as your self-loathe and intrusive thoughts rain in. You try so hard not to let it get to you, but still-

It’s what Hanae deserves for putting up with you.

“You should give her a chance,” you force a small smile. “I mean, she’s pretty and smart, you know?”

Oikawa gives you a pitying gaze before Iwaizumi shakes his head, his cheek now pressing against his palm. “Nah. I don’t like anyone in that way now, and it’s gonna stay like that for a while, I’d think.”

He doesn’t like anyone in that way.

You shrug and nod, “Fair enough,” but your voice is so much smaller. You love Iwaizumi Hajime so much, and he’s always been your everything. From his habits to his comforting demeanor and his entire profile, he’s always infatuated you and you know that no matter how hard you deny it for anyone, you will never let go of the feelings that shackle you to him like chains.

You love him so much.

But I guess I’ll never win.

[carryonmywaywardwriters]

One Day At A Time - Jensen x Reader

A/N: Part Three! If you’d like to be tagged, please sent an ask or message. As always, feedback is incredible. And, I hope you all enjoy <3

PSA: I am NOT a minor friendly blog. If you are below 18, please come back when you’re older. I don’t want to lose my blog because you were too eager to grow up. If I discover you, I WILL block.

Series Masterlist

Warnings: Widower!Jensen. Grieving process. Age Gap. Character pregnancy. Unrequited feelings. Online personality problems. Guilt. I believe that is all.

Word Count: Roughly 2,700

“Hi, there,” The woman giggled into the mic as Jensen played up the flirty eyebrow bounce and cheesy smile that would be cast over Tumblr within twenty four hours.

He was finished after that final panel, for the trip. Nothing sounded better than a hot shower and catching some sleep. His mind was still reeling from the news he'd been given that morning, but he couldn't focus on that. So, he buried himself behind that charming persona he'd created.

“Dude, leave her alone...she wants me,” Jared smoothed his thick, long, chestnut locks in a way that caused thirsty cries from all around. He cackled as his friend mock frowned his way; unimpressed at the turn of attention. Earning the familiar high pitched laugh from the crowd in front of them.

It was easy to play into their hands. To take the nerves that came with being shy and put it towards acting like a dork with his best friend. He appreciated the disguise more than he'd ever say. Letting it mask the worry and fear he could feel churning inside of him when it was too quiet for long.

“Actually, my question is for Jensen-”

“Ha!” The mentioned man in question leaned forward at the barked utterance, pretending to gloat. Smugly bouncing his brows at Padalecki.

With a deep, regretful sigh, the taller of the two settled back in his chair; wrapping his arms around the back of it as he sat in reverse, “Okay, I guess.” The over dramatically stated words were coupled with a theatrical sulk that drew forth more giggles.

“I was wondering if Y/N and the kids are enjoying the trip to San Diego,” It was no secret that his family had been flocked around him. Until now, that is. The way he paused at that had every eye present turning towards him.

“Uh, actually...” He forced his lips to stay upright. “They're back home, right now.” Concerned 'awes' filled the air. “No, no. It's okay. They're living it up.” Jared turned his gaze back to the man he'd been brothers with for almost two decades. Not buying into the idea that he was really alright with it. “Last time I checked, they were having some kinda dance party. Again.” The way he clenched his teeth relaxed the fans a bit. An over emphasized grimace always seemed to break the mood. “It was wild. There was pink everywhere and a herd of little girls shouting to music.”

“Odette was leading the charge on the one I got,” The taller man joined in, having received his own recording. “Kicked Zeppelin over to my place for an old fashioned dinosaur night with the boys.” More awes filled the air.

“Y/N sent you something? I thought you two still weren't talking after you tried to drown her?” His brow crooked, finding something he could latch onto. Knowing that his friend had delivered that ammo on purpose. He really did love the moose.

“I can explain!” Jared held up his hand towards the 'ooohs,' and then stopped. “No... no, I can't.” His head dipped in false shame, earning another set of rambunctious chuckles.

“I can.” Jensen easily took over. Turning to better face the crowd now that he'd successfully maneuvered around the original question. “This guy tortures my nanny. She's like the female version of Misha to Jared. It's endless.” The mentioned man's lips screwed up as he nodded proudly, accepting the label that was thrown onto you. “So, we were at a cookout over at his place. I'm flipping burgers and relaxing with a beer. You know...like a normal person.” His words only made his friend shrug. Zero shame in sight. “Next thing I know? She's screeching as he full on tosses her into the pool.”

“She called me old!” The roar that followed was deafening. “See? They get it!” He beamed at the response only serving to make Jensen over-exaggerate the roll of his green eyes. “And, it worked. What did she say after?”

“You're a child.” The admission was straightforward.

“Meaning that I'm young, and that she was wrong.” A round of applause made him get to his feet, and bow as the widower shook his head in mock shame. Cracking his own grin.

The mic was lifted back to Jensen's lips, “Dude...you started a war because she told the truth?” He knew what had been said, but the crowd was eating it up. Keeping him safe for a little while longer.

“That hurts...” A pat to the heart was thrown in. “That hurts me right there.”

“The kids all joined in. It was chaos.” Ackles explained the previous comment to the women, with a few men scattered here and there. “My kids and Y/N versus his herd and him. We needed an ark to get to the tables. They soaked everything.” His hand panned across the people in front of him, emphasizing how far the damage had spread. “Everything. Gen thought they were going to kill each other.” Jared cackled. Remembering the look on his wife's face. “Y'all know how we had to stop pranking each other, right? 'Cause it was so deadly? That's what they should be doing. Instead, she's become this...epic battle partner. I'm thinking they'll start the next apocalypse before this is over.” A proud nod confirmed it. Jared wouldn't give in until the world ended. Or, he had to go back to work. Whichever happened first.

“Do you prank Y/N?” Someone shouted, catching his attention.

“Do I... Do I prank her? Are you kidding? Do I look stupid?” More laughs filled the air as he shuddered something fierce. “Misha? Absolutely. He doesn't fight back.” His fingers tacked off each point. “He doesn't live in my house. Doesn't hang out with my kids. I like not having to worry about her sicking my spawn on me in retaliation. They'd do it in a heart beat, too.” And most importantly, it kept the professional barriers somewhat in place. “Yeah, no, Y/N and I don't....we're not...” Weren't anything other than co-parents, employer and employee, and almost friends in an odd sort of way. How's that for complicated?

“As fun as I am,” Jared finished, saving him, again. Hoping that the fans wouldn't take that last statement as he had started to. He covered his own look of interest before diving back into the panel. “Now, that we went way off topic....who's next?”

–

“How did the 'mom' thing even start?” You asked in confusion, scrolling through your Instagram notifications. Your feet thrown over the back of the couch as you sprawled. Making yourself quite at home in the Ackles house. The selfie you'd posted while cleaning the damage the girls had caused was packed.

Not that you weren't used to it by that stage. The moment Danneel had tagged you in a post, it had been over. You'd been stalked and fawned over by some. When she passed? You'd been flocked for updates about the Ackles family.

It had taken a year for you to gather the courage to begin posting again. Once you did? The fandom clung to you for offering small pieces of what life was like inside the Ackles' household. Needing to have that sense of closeness to the supernatural family, still, even with a member gone.

The simple image of you with Oscar resting his head on your lap as you sorted the makeup away had garnered the usual 'queen', 'mom', and 'I love yous' mixed with the occasional trash talker. Once Jensen had commented saying he wanted his dog back when he got home? It had grown worse. When you told him that he'd have to fight you for the golden doodle? The post had blown up. The fans demanding to know if you and him had something going on.

Apparently his panel had only cemented the idea, somehow. You hadn't watched it. Leaving you to only wonder what he'd said to garner that response. Sure it had simply been taken out of context.

You scrolled on, determined to find some answers. A few flicks of your fingers and fate intervened. The phone slipped to your face. Making you wince all the while. As if life had directly told you that social media was bad for your health.

With a sigh, you tossed your phone to the couch. Trying to not let the extreme Danneel and Jensen fans get under your skin. Too many 'you'll never be her' comments filled your mind. More than enough 'stop trying to take her place' had you questioning where you stood. You were doing everything you could to get what was needed done while not dancing on your deceased friend's toes.

Did the world really not understand? Were you really any better off than they suggested? The small crush said you weren't.

“No idea,” Genevieve stated seriously, walking towards the grey couch you were occupying with a pile of healthy snacks loaded up. Pulling you from the internal struggle. She'd been extra conscious of what she was putting into her body since she'd discovered the newest pregnancy. “I just kinda...roll with it.”

She and the kiddos were bunking with you. Tag teaming was so much simpler when the baby exhaustion hit. And it gave the both of you some grownup time together when the men were away.

“It's so strange,” You picked up one of the grapes with your fingers before plopping it in your mouth. Giving up on trying to understand the fact that you'd become an icon of sorts- and the ramifications- for simply nannying some, albeit great, kids.

At your friend's next words, you choked, “So...what's the deal with you and Jensen?”

“It's the same as its always been,” Came the broken words as you got back a hold of yourself. Brushing it off. “Why?”

“Just curious,” That wasn't it. The cool, actress's poker face she wore said as much. But, you were too sensitive to call her out on it, just then. Luckily, she changed gears. “I can't believe that this is it...The last season is being filmed this year.”

The CW had finally pulled the plug on the Winchesters once it had hit adulthood. The boys had found out in a meeting that morning. They'd known it was coming. Had even agreed to it. And yet? Hearing the finality of it? Was another nail in the coffin.

“Eighteen seasons...It's crazy.” Your hand ran through your hair as you looked at the old episode on screen. Sister Jo stood off against Michael!Dean. The tension in the scene was palpable. It didn't hurt to watch it, anymore. Instead, you focused on the fact that she'd been doing what she loved with the man she'd been head over heels for. “How's Jared holding up?”

“He's zeroed in on the kids. Telling himself that it's going to be good for us in the end.” Her hand rubbed over her still flat stomach. “But, he's definitely feeling it. He's been Sam for so long... Saying goodbye is hard.”

“That it is,” You agreed, frowning at the screen. Wondering how Jensen was taking the day.

He hadn't said a thing to you when he'd checked in. Simply had asked for an update on the household before he crashed. Dean had become his crutch. Without the Winchester in his life, you weren't quite sure what he'd do with himself.

Ackles had a passion for directing and acting. There was no doubt about it. But, Supernatural had become everything when his life had turned upside down. It had given him the consistency he'd needed to get through. And while things had been okay for a time? It would be just another major thing he was losing.

Your socked foot rubbed over the soft fur of Icarus. The cockapoo was up there in age. He'd been diagnosed with congestive heart failure at sixteen years old. The white, fifteen pounds of floof didn't let it deter him, though. A couple of pills a day kept him comfortable and loved for as long as he could be. But, it had gotten under Jensen's skin, too.

It made your stomach churn to think about how fast the negative could pile up on already weakened shoulders. And yet, he wanted you to step back. Having time away from him had cleared your head. Allowed you to see his side of things. Maybe it was time to give him some room to breathe. To let him process everything on his own. After all, you were just the nanny...

–

“Dad!” Three voices shouted in unison when the door opened. Ditching their place at the table as Jensen stumbled in with a wide smile on his face. Each kid got a big hug, and a kiss on the cheek.

When they tried to talk over each other, he slowed them down, gently with a, “One at a time.” And, miraculously? It worked. He was informed of everything he'd already had reported to him. Only this time? In child perspective. Which made it dramatic. Completely over the top. Just the way he liked it.

A nod your way was all you received as you slipped past the scene; lifting his bag for him so that no one tripped over it. Including the bumbling dog that was trying to get a kiss in, himself. Oscar had missed his human while he'd been gone.

The dog had been with Danneel's brother during her last pregnancy. She'd been too sick to handle the energetic buffoon while Jensen had been away, filming the show. Gino had fallen in love with the pup. Keeping him...until he thought Jensen needed him more. Returning him back to the Ackles' home solemnly. Oscar had, once again, latched back onto the head of the house with a fierce loyalty that most wouldn't expect from a fluffed up mixed breed. The affection was mutual. Jensen's hand stilled the squirming beast with a simple pet to the top of his curled head as you left the chaos.

Jensen's room was clean. A feat that wouldn't last long once he started unpacking. Bed made up, clothes lined nice and neat, with just a hint of his cologne still lingering in the air from before he'd left. You dropped the duffle on the mattress and turned away. Only to catch sight of the image beside his pillow. It held the dogs, his wife, and the kids all surrounding him. Everything he loved in one picture. His family.

Slowly, you slid the door shut and returned back to the reunion, “Dinner's ready if you're hungry.” You smiled softly at the way he ensured each kid knew that they were loved before climbing back up to his feet. Lumbering after you to get the food while it was still hot.

“Spaghetti,” The actor rumbled in excitement, sniffing the air as he approached the table. His lips smacked hungrily. He was a sucker for a pasta with a good meat sauce. “The wardrobe ladies are gonna be mad at me, later, but I'm piling it up.” He hadn't exaggerated. The flight had left him hungry. “God, this is good.” Came the Dean-like groan as he chowed down. Forgetting that he didn't have to eat like a man who had lived off of nothing more than pizza and beer.

“Dad!” The tiny, disapproving tone left J.J with ease. “You're not supposed to talk with your mouth full.”

He gulped down the food, and smiled sheepishly, “Sorry, J-bird.”

“It's okay. Just try to remember,” The words were so Danneel that you couldn't help but to smile gently at them. She was going to be trouble as she continued to age. But, you had faith she'd be pretty great in the end. Hell, they all would if the night was any indication.

If he was upset about the show ending, he didn't show it. Even after the kids retired for the night and he helped clean up, he didn't say a word. The only thing you got was a pat on the back and a low “goodnight” that made your skin prickle before you returned your own.

Part Four

ODAAT: @winchester-ofthe-lord​​ @smoothdogsgirl​ @ima-be-a-mongoose​ @briagallen​

Dean/Jensen: @akshi8278​​ @screechingartisancashbailiff​​

Forever: @dean-winchesters-bacon​​ @supernaturalginger​​ @lilulo-12​​​ @awesome-badass-cafeteria-sauce​​ @malfoysqueen14​​​  @michealneedssomemilk