#why did they let me hope and want things anyway? Now I want nothing ever
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psuedosugu · 3 days ago
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Hope ★
Daisuke x reader
synopsis: Daisuke gives you hope in a hopeless situation.
notes: this is lowkey corny buttt idgaf also happy new years
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The faint buzz of the Tulpar filled your ears as you sat against the metal wall, your eyes squeezed shut. Everyone else was on the other side of the freighter, and you had gone off for some peace and quiet so that you could think over your current situation.
The ship now crashed, you, and the rest of the crew, were now stranded in space. Food and oxygen was limited, and the chance of rescue was slim. You found yourself wondering how it had come to this. You had always wanted to be a pilot, had worked your ass off to get into college and to find this internship, but it all meant nothing now.
You were so lost in your thoughts that you didn’t notice the noise of the door opening and shutting, nor did you notice your fellow intern, Daisuke, stepping in. “Uhh, [name]?”
you flinched at the sound of his voice as your eyes flew open.
“Oh. Hi.” you blinked up at him. “Hey,” he responded, “I was looking for you.”
“Why?” you asked. he shrugged at your question, sitting next to you. Your heart fluttered as his shoulder brushed yours. Daisuke, perhaps the sole good thing up here. You still remember the day you met him, all gap-toothed smiles and sunshine, so positively good, unlike you, you thought. The two of you had hit it off, probably due to the 2 of you both being the youngest. He was kind but still honest, funny, a dream to be around.
The two of you sat in understanding silence for a bit before he interrupted. “So..” he began, “You good?”
“Just thinking,” you responded.
“About?” he asked.
“Life on Earth. All of the things I’m gonna miss out on.”
He frowned. “Don’t think like that. I bet they’ve sent a team out to find us. We just gotta wait.”
In any other situation his optimism would’ve been endearing, but now it only served as a reminder of how hopeless their situation was. You pulled your knees closer to your chest as you blinked back tears.
“Hey, hey..” he comforted you, noticing your watery eyes, “I’m being serious. We’ll be okay, okay? I promise.” It sounded like he was trying to convince himself too.
“We’re off the grid, untraceable, and even if they could find us, are their cheap asses really gonna waste all of that money trying to get us? We’re stuck here, stuck until we run out of oxygen, or food, whichever comes first.” you countered.
“But-“ he started.
“No. You can believe what you want, but I’m not getting my hopes up.”
“-We need hope,” he continued. “Without hope we don’t have anything at all.” You stayed silent at his words.
“Please? Just…you shouldn’t just give up now.” he pleaded. “What if we do get off?”
“What if we?” you responded.
“You don’t..have anyone you want to see? anything you’re looking forward to?” You had put all of your time and effort into your education, but after this? You weren’t sure if you ever wanted to step foot into another ship ever again. The company was closing down anyways, and you had no one, no parents or friends who cared enough to lean back on. You had nothing waiting for you on earth.
“…No.” you muttered. “I don’t have anyone down there.” Daisuke frowned. “How come?” His voice had an undertone of sadness. “Guess I’m not like-able enough for anyone.” you half-joked, trying to come off as unbothered, but the frown still lingered on his face.
“I don’t think you’re unlikeable. I really, really like you, [name].” His words made your face heat up. “You- I.. I like you too.” you stammered.
“You could stay with me. My mom would like you, I bet.” He suggested, his hand creeping towards yours. “You don’t have to do all that just because you pity me.” you shot back, a bit harsher than you intended.
“I don’t…pity you. I really did mean it when I said I like you. I want to be with you. I don’t want you to be alone. Please?” He squeezed your hand as you thought it over. You didn’t want to let him go, didn’t want to let go of that hope for a better life, one where you weren’t so alone.
“Okay.” You sighed, cracking a slight smile. He smiled back, that dumb smile that had you melting over and over again. You wanted to kiss it off of his face, so you did. It was an impulse decision, a stupid one at that, but you softly put your lips on his, wrapping your arms around him. He was tense at first but then melted into the kiss, wrapping his arms around your waist.
The both of you parted for air and fear started to creep into your vision. What if you had read the room wrong? What if he didn’t like it? But then he went in for another kiss, then another, then another, peppering kisses onto your face as you giggled.
“Now c’mon, you shouldn’t just keep yourself cooped up here. It’s not healthy.” He said, pulling you up from the ground, and you left that room feeling a little lighter, a bit more hopeful.
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thelunaticghost · 4 months ago
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cant wait to get my degree certificate I'm gonna burn that bitch up
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astonmartinii · 13 days ago
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day six: not so home for christmas | oscar piastri social media au
pairing: oscar piastri x fem reader
oscar and y/n are having their first christmas in monaco because of a snow storm, unfortunately this also means they're now hosting most of the grid as well.
MASTERLIST | TIP JAR
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yourusername
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liked by charles_leclerc, landonorris and 137,094 others
tagged: oscarpiastri
yourusername: thanks a lot snow storm :( i guess it's our first ever christmas here in monaco
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user1: yall global warming might just be real
user2: you're only just realising it now ?
charles_leclerc: you kids and your complaining - a white christmas in monaco, what more could you want?
yourusername: a christmas at home with our families?
charles_leclerc: families? when you're in your adopted father-in-law's home city, i'd watch your tone if i were you
oscarpiastri: if you think of your kids as often as you say then you should be worried that your aussie son is going to FREEZE to death :(
charles_leclerc: if it's the bbq you crave, you can still do that?
yourusername: it's snowing? and he is NOT bringing our bbq inside
charles_leclerc: okay jeez, not much christmas spirit here i see
oscarpiastri: we miss our families, sue us
user3: wait... if they couldn't get out of nice... who else couldn't
user4: the storm kicked in like a day ago right?
user5: based on instagram activity, my guess is that max, lando, ollie (idk why he was in monaco anyway), kimi (i think he's attached to ollie), alex (and lily) and george
user6: i know it would never happen but wouldn't it be so cute if we got a grid christmas dinner
yourusername: please don't give them any ideas
oscarpiastri: i only just got rid of them 😩
landonorris: so, just out of interest, is y/n still free to maybe wrap my presents for me?
yourusername: do i look like the christmas fairy to you?
landonorris: well i know for a fact that oscar's ass was not wrapping those presents
oscarpiastri: well y/n actually likes doing things for me soooooo
landonorris: PLEASE Y/N I'LL HAVE TO RESORT TO USING TIN FOIL
yourusername: tin foil... please you are a 25 year old man
landonorris: does it look like i'm a man who has sellotape in his house?
yourusername: no.
user7: y/n is like a full time mum to a load of men all older than her
user8: she better get ready to cook for them at christmas because none of these men can cook for themselves
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oscarpiastri
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liked by charles_leclerc, maxverstappen1 and 692,108 others
tagged: yourusername & landonorris
oscarpiastri: i'm not sure how this went from our lonely christmas away from both of our families to babysitting half of the grid but what the hell, sure
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user10: i personally blame all of you for this
user11: and what??? i'm so excited
user12: i hope they post nothing more just to spite your ass
charles_leclerc: i’m kinda offended no one thought of coming to mine :/
maxverstappen1: you’re shit at cooking
charles_leclerc: how would you know?
maxverstappen1: i saw it in your vlog
charles_leclerc: you watch my vlogs???
maxverstappen1: NO?
yourusername: okay queens stop flirting and get back to your stations in the kitchen
charles_leclerc: can we flirt there?
yourusername: if you're still peeling - knock yourselves out
user13: y/n basically confirming lestappen? wow christmas DID come early this year
user14: the real question is why she would let those menaces in the kitchen?
yourusername: i have seen how much these people eat, i need help even from the useless
yourusername: also if they want certain dishes from home they have to help
maxverstappen1: i am CORING AS MANY APPLES AS I CAN I PROMISE THE APPLE BEIGNETS WILL BE WORTH IT
oscarpiastri: i know they will be, y/n is making them
maxverstappen1: okay buddy, i don't see you helping
oscarpiastri: i am keeping everyone else in line, that's a full time job as well
user15: who made the youngest couple in charge of these fools?
user16: a comedic genius
yourusername: they're annoying but i'll deal with them for you
oscarpiastri: you make such sacrifices for me, i love you
yourusername: i love you more
alexalbon: we're really not that bad you guys are being dramatic
yourusername: george walked up to our mantle piece, pointed at my baby picture and said "ugly. my condolences" ?
alexalbon: that's george ? he's mean to everyone
yourusername: HE'S IN THAT BABY'S HOUSE
olliebearman
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liked by charles_leclerc, estebanocon and 418,934 others
tagged: yourusername, oscarpiastri & kimiantonelli
olliebearman: first christmas with my big brother :))))
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user17: yall be on oscar about him holding onto the leclerc family joke but the real enemy is ollie
olliebearman: i think it's cute
olliebearman: and it's NOT a joke
user18: you know what? yeah i'd also keep going with the joke i need to get in that leclerc family
olliebearman: the real catch here is y/n she's going to teach me to crochet :)
yourusername: we can make little bear mans !!!
user19: the grid dad stuff was cringey... but grid brother well that's hitting like crack i fear
charles_leclerc: grid dads are cringey ??? count your days
user19: sorry?
charles_leclerc: i (and my family) will NOT tolerate sebastian vettel slander. not now not EVER
fernandoalo_oficial: and me?
charles_leclerc: i couldn't give a fuck about you old man
fernandoalo_oficial: excuse me
fernandoalo_oficial: i'll have you know i am just as much oscar's father as you are
charles_leclerc: and how have you come to that OBVIOUSLY WRONG conclusion
fernandoalo_oficial: WELL i don't know maybe his REAL grid dad is actually mark webber who i have a well documented homoerotic relationship with and therefore oscar and most importantly Y/N are my children
charles_leclerc: what a load of bullshit
charles_leclerc: if grid children were based on homoerotic tension then i'd be father to all of the red bull juniors and max would have custody of the FDA
maxverstappen1: well....
pepemarti: hi !!!
dinobeganovic: hey.....
yourusername: what happened to the original plot of the movie
user20: i think the cabin fever is getting to them
lilymunhe: no they're like this all of the time it's exhausting
yourusername: tell me about it
olliebearman: but not me :(
yourusername: no we love you
oscarpiastri: you are the least annoying one
olliebearman: omg thank you :3
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yourusername
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liked by maxverstappen1, alexalbon and 163,207 others
tagged: oscarpiastri, charles_leclerc & landonorris
yourusername: not so home for christmas but with family nonetheless
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user22: what was the dress code here?
landonorris: what we had left? all the dry cleaners are closed because of the storm
yourusername: you take ALL of your clothes to the dry cleaners?
landonorris: why wouldn't i do that...
yourusername: yk what, whatever !
user23: omg of course leo was there as well
yourusername: we only invited charles for him
charles_leclerc: excuse me?
landonorris: he was invited ????
oscarpiastri: well he was staying in monaco anyway and you guys all invoked your squatters rights in my house so what was one more
landonorris: i am not squatting? my ass is already big enough as it is
yourusername: i know your ass is big because YOU'RE ALWAYS SAT ON IT
oscarpiastri: god i love you
yourusername: i love you even more
oscarpiastri: nuh uh not possible
yourusername: i love you so much i'm not even that angry about half of the grid crashing our christmas
oscarpiastri: i love you so much that i personally barged a child out of the way to get you your eras tour merch
yourusername: i do love my merch.... but not as much as i love you
oscarpiastri: you're so romantic
georgerussell63: right that's it, i am SICK of you people pretending you are not enjoying our presence
yourusername: did i or did i not say family ???
oscarpiastri: george i'd appreciate if you didn't talk to y/n this way
maxverstappen1: yeah back the fuck off
georgerussell63: why is max here?
maxverstappen1: ummmm y/n busted her ass to make apple beignets for me so i had some netherlands with me at christmas so i would die for her. i am somwhat fond of oscar as well
maxverstappen1: so fuck with them, you fuck with me
maxverstappen1: and you seem to like doing that recently
yourusername: awwww thanks max!
oscarpiastri: we are fond of you too buddy
georgerussell63: how did i lose this?
user24: max out here getting wags on his side
maxverstappen1: that's my ma
maxverstappen1: wait that makes my homoerotic tension with charles incest
maxverstappen1: that's my home girl
oscarpiastri
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liked by landonorris, jackdoohan and 1,094,577 others
tagged: yourusername
oscarpiastri: y/n absolutely smashed our makeshift grid christmas and she said she'll accept thanks in qualifying tows or easy passes on track 👍
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user25: oh they want me dead
user26: i would do questionable things to get a slice of that cake
user27: drop the recipe please xxx
yourusername: oh babe i be following the tiktoks like the rest of yall - i'll repost it
user28: woman of the people
yourusername: babe i don't really remember saying those exact words...
oscarpiastri: PLEASE ! they don't say no to you now you've filled their stomachs
landonorris: he's not wrong
maxverstappen1: you're in my will now
charles_leclerc: you're now my favourite daughter in law
yourusername: i'm your only daughter in law?
charles_leclerc: idk kimi and ollie are pretty attached with their weird tension
landonorris: like father like son
charles_leclerc: huh?
landonorris: huh?
oscarpiastri: ^^ see !!!! y/n please !!!
yourusername: fine.
yourusername: thank you all for coming, i hope you enjoyed dinner and your time with us. i loved spending time with you all but if you wish, i will be accepting thanks in the form of qualifying tows and easy passes for oscar or pornstar martinis from any hospitality
yourusername: happy?
oscarpiastri: yes
oscarpiastri: YOU HEARD THE WOMAN GUYS
maxverstappen1: oh i love y/n but i'd rather put you in the wall than let that ugly orange car past without a fight
georgerussell63: @fia i told yall
yourusername: are you ever gonna give that up ?
georgerussell63: no? and i KNOW IT WAS YOU WHO SAT ME NEXT TO HIM AT DINNER
yourusername: you'll never prove it :P
user29: oscar is such a sassy man
yourusername: he gets it from his momma
oscarpiastri: and you :)
yourusername: i will say your ability to watch my reality tv with you is a big factor in how much i love you
landonorris: is that why oscar once woke me up the night before a race by shouting "get her ass lisa" ???
oscarpiastri: we watch real housewives together on facetime :)
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charles_leclerc
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liked by pierregasly, carlossainz55 and 1,130,672 others
tagged: yourusername & oscarpiastri
charles_leclerc: i made the right choice in son and most importantly daughter in law
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user31: okay the cinnamon buns have thrown me over the edge now
user32: i NEED to know who asked for them
alexalbon: guilty 💅 and they slapped thanks y/m
oscarpiastri: we've been dating for years? like when i was still in f3?
charles_leclerc: semantics
oscarpiastri: no i met and charmed y/n all on my own thank you very much
charles_leclerc: because she saw the future and the potential of our prosperous family !!!
oscarpiastri: at this point, whatever you wanna hear old man
charles_leclerc: relegated below ollie
olliebearman: score !!!
user33: oh these people are never letting this joke die are they
user34: i think we're stuck with it
charles_leclerc: are you people sick of whimsy ???
charles_leclerc: i am ALLOWED to flex my son's amazing choice in women, especially a woman who will make me a swiss roll on demand
yourusername: he does have amazing taste
oscarpiastri: thank you :3
yourusername: as much as you guys were somewhat annoying, we had an amazing christmas xx
oscarpiastri: please do not bother us until march
charles_leclerc: fine. but we're still on for the double date in melbourne?
charles_leclerc: (maybe triple? idk ollie can just bring kimi)
kimiantonelli: score !!!
yourusername: we would love to !
oscarpiastri: i guess you could meet my actual family ?
charles_leclerc: not now oscar, let me enjoy chritmas with you all before you remind me of that
oscarpiastri: okay?
user35: y/n and oscar actually have the patience of saints because if these clowns crashed my christmas i'd be on the news
yourusername: any christmas is perfect with him
oscarpiastri: with y/n, i can get through even the most annoying people
user35: okay yall didn't have to flex on me that hard damn
fin.
note: here's day six! i'm not sure if you guys saw my update post but this series won't be done by christmas day but will stretch to NYE because unfortunately my cat has to be put down :( i've had him for nearly 19 years and it's really hard to think about him being gone so i'm just spending as much time as possible with him atm. anyway, i hope you enjoyed !! xx
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cherubofthenight · 21 days ago
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It really is that damn phone (a rant)
(written nov 18th, 2024)
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I was in my bed-rotting, depressed, don’t know what to do with my life nor do I care era up until this morning. And I’m starting to think it’s the people around me bc as soon as I’m not at work, I’m suddenly the most productive person ever.
I’ve been on a mission to become that dream version of myself (which for me requires some physical effort on my part) and shifting and I realized- wait the diff between the dream ver of myself and my dr self only have like slight physical differences. But overall, same mindset, same boundaries, standards & morals. Same person on the inside.
So I thought why make a big deal out of this stuff? Why make a big deal out of being in your dr physically. Stay with me now. Like I try to think of things to do and how to behave and react to stay aligned with my desired self which.. I think I try too hard and it ultimately burns me out. So then I have no discipline to continue- just little sparks of motivation every once in a while.
I’ve realized I feel most at peace when I let things flow without trying too hard. Like when I journal or have inner monologues, sometimes I think—why not shift my awareness to my DR? And suddenly, it feels so natural. Lately, I’ve been focusing on just moving my awareness there instead of worrying about proof or the physical. It’s really just about letting myself tune in, no overthinking needed. Of course, this can still be tricky sometimes (I get sidetracked a lot), but that’s exactly why I started this blog—to explore and share the process as I go.
Anyways, back to the title. It’s that damn phone. THIS IS WHY I SAY GET HOBBIES. I came off Tumblr—I’m not on it as much as I used to be. I queue up my posts when I find something I want to share, then I just focus on me. That’s why I love meditation. Because meditation can be anything. What I just said about inner monologues? You don’t even have to call that meditation—I don’t, most of the time. It’s just about shifting your awareness, and that can happen in a moment. No need for a long process. Just a shift in focus, and suddenly, you’re right where you want to be. I only recently started to grasp that actually.
My last shifting attempt. I’m gonna put the video for what I did and I felt soo close to my dr (the one I had back then) and like it just in reach of my fingertips until it wasn’t. I panicked I freaked out, I lost all hope and inspiration and I had no discipline because I thought “oh shit what do I gotta do now? Do I have to do something now? How do I do this more? How do I get this feeling more? Like what.. what to do… um shit..” and I never got close to that dr ever again. And I hate methods so.. imagine how shocked I felt.
Shaysplanett on TikTok (@shaysplanet)
And then I never tried again, yk why? We get comfortable, we get distracted by the 3D and suddenly we’re forgetting we have desires and we wanna shift to different places
I used to hate reblogging a lot of LOA posts at a time because this community is just things we already know repeated over and over and over again. I also thought to myself.. hm.. what could I post (loa-related) on this blog? And I couldn’t come up with shit. Because it’s nothing new. Law of assumption is nothing new. It’s just recycled shit over and over put in different, pretty words so more people would understand it properly but I think we understand and we’re just not applying. But yet here I am making this post: saying what we know already (and I probably will keep doing that bc it’s how I remind myself)
yeah.
All of this to say what we’ve all heard a million times before: you don’t wanna be thinking too hard about your desire and then end up being consumed by negative thoughts of not having your desire. The more time you spend scrolling and reading about loa and shifting, the most pressure you put on yourself and you miss the one thing you have to do: change your assumption/move your awareness. If you come to the point that you’re spiraling, STOP. Take a breath. Remind yourself that everything is going to be great. Do something else.
(posting this bc i plan to actually take a break from tumblr and finally listen to myself. if you see posts, its bc they're queued. hopefully i actually take the break this time. ps i think im starting to move away from looking at shifting solely from a loa standpoint)
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silverflqmes · 9 months ago
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Hai!! I was wondering if you’d be able/want to/feel comfortable with writing a nsfw cloud x reader? Maybe something sweet, like their first time together as a couple. If you don’t like the request is fine ! I hope you’re having a great day :]
໒⦂ 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐕𝐄𝐑𝐘 𝐅𝐈𝐑𝐒𝐓 𝐍𝐈𝐆𝐇𝐓.
notes. hi anon, i have not written nsfw in some centuries so i hope this is decent cuz i definitely lost my touch😭 i wrote the reader as female since that’s what i’m used to writing, given i’m.. well, a girl😵‍💫 hope that’s okay with you</3
genre. nsfw + fluff
tw. virginity loss, hand job, fingering, riding, slight uh pillow princess cloud in the beginning..
disclaimer. uncomfortable with smut or younger than 17? please dni.
cloud strife x fem!reader
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it was quarter to midnight and the blond still could not find it in himself to sleep. not that he ever could, anyway.. but since he’d gotten with you, sleep came just a little more easily and the nightmares became less frequent.
tonight, however, was a slightly different case.
“cloud..” you mumbled sleepily, lifting your head from his back when you felt him shift against your hold. “still can’t sleep?”
remembering your presence, he blinked in the darkness, feeling your hand on his stomach, which he gently took ahold of, kissing the back of it. “sorry, having a hard time..” he paused to think of a vague excuse, if only to mask his embarrassment. “getting um, comfortable, right now.. nothing to do with you, though.”
his cheeks were twinged with pink under the sliver of moonlight that spilled into your shared bedroom through the curtains, but thankfully hidden from your stare.
while he had said it was strange for him to be the ‘little spoon’, part of him was grateful that he was now..
a pout came to your lips as you urged him to turn over, but he wouldn’t budge — adamant on not being seen. something was.. off. really off.
“cloud, come on- you can tell me. you know i won’t judge you for whatever reason that’s preventing you from sleeping.” you assured, smoothing the hand he wasn’t holding over his arm, comfortingly.
he shuddered unknowingly at the touch, hyper aware of your proximity to him — the way your body had pressed against his back and your light breathing on his neck now.
the fabric confinements constricted in protest, and he willed himself not to make any noises that gave away his sensitivity. why did it have to hit him tonight so suddenly? was it that lack of battling, with his arch nemesis no longer threatening the planet?
“i-it’s nothing.” he shook his head, attempting to steady his tone, but his facade was faltering. “just.. go back to bed, i should fall asleep in a moment or — a-aah.. aaah.”
panic crossed your features at the noise he made as you let go him within seconds, finally catching a glimpse of his expression to see he was not wincing out of agony.. but of pleasure?
curiously, your eyes slid down to his lower half to find him squeezing his legs together for dear life. oh.
“c-cloud, are you — ”
“yes-! fuck, i am..” he breathed out, turning his head to hide his shame in the pillow, but you turned him back over without harming him, pursing your lips together.
“y’know,” you began, heaving a sigh. “you could’ve just said you were feeling things- it’s a normal thing.. instead you had me thinking you had a bad dream again or something.” you shook your head, relief washing over you despite your scolding.
the former mercenary kept his gaze elsewhere, grumbling quietly under his breath. “it’s not so easy to say ‘i’m horny, do something about it’. feels awkward, okay.”
you found yourself rolling your eyes before you pushed yourself up, lavender colored sheets sliding off your body as you moved to situate yourself between his legs. “i suppose it’s blunt, but i don’t mind it. we’ve been together for over a year now.. and have known each other for several more.” you reminded him tenderly, leaning down to peck his lips softly. “if you needed ever needed to.. indulge.. i’m more than willing to do so, at your consent.”
cloud found himself shuddering at the words that spilled over his rosy appendages, rouge splashing across his his nose and cheeks at your boldness. while you had been confident, in contrast to how he behaved and presented himself.. this was a side he had yet to see from you — and goodness.
“but- it’s late..” he muttered back, aware that you had to wake up early to help tifa out at seventh heaven by daybreak. it was tedious work and he knew you weren’t one for getting up at first light.. cutting into your sleep felt criminal.
however your expression seemed unchanging, having made up your mind already, from what he concluded.
“and?” you pressed, hovering over his face. “i won’t be that long, and besides — we live in a society where coffee exists.” you reminded him, clicking your tongue before placing a hand on his hip. “i’ll be fine.”
his back nearly arched at the light caress, but he forced himself to be completely still, eyeing you with furrowed brows for a moment longer before exhaling. “are you.. sure about this?”
a quiet laugh tumbled past your lips as a knowing smile crossed your lips. “would i be offering to help if i wasn’t?”
it was a fair point, and although cloud wanted to continue denying himself for the sake of you getting rest.. he found himself succumbing to his intrusive thoughts the more he stared up at you.
“i guess not.” the blond concurred after a brief silence on his end, averting his mako tinted hues. “you’re not gonna let this go, are you?”
the eager shake of your head was enough of an answer as he closed his eyes in defeat. “okay, fine.. just take it easy on me, it’s..” he paused, pursing his lips together.
“your first time?” you finished in a hum before letting out a giggle when he didn’t answer. “it’s okay, i thought so.” you assured him, hooking your thumbs onto the waistband of his boxer briefs. “if it gets too much, you can tell me.”
a nod of confirmation was all that was needed for you to fully tug down his undergarments, a hiss leaving your lover’s lips as the frigid air caressed his most intimate part.
gingerly, you wrapped your hands around his shaft, never missing the gasp he failed to suppress as you pumped him slowly.
cloud’s hand flew to cover his mouth, eyes squeezing tighter as wave of ecstasy washed over him — gradually erasing the previous discomfort he’d felt.
in all his years, other than that massage back at the wall market of sector six, he’d never been touched in a way like this. a manner that sent bolts and sparks of pleasure down his spine, electrifying him in every possible way.
but the spiky haired male was too shy to ask for help on the rare occasions that he’d found himself pent up. all that fighting quelled any need for sexual release.. but now, with little to no battles to partake in these days, those late nights he’d spend away on deliveries were often occupied by his hand.
“f-fuck, y/n..!” he breathed out, feeling his legs tremble from the pleasure you had created.
you continued at an even pace, sliding your attention back over to boyfriend’s features when he called your name out. “does it feel good?” the answer was abundantly clear, though you felt the need to ask, anyway. couldn’t hurt to be safe.
he nodded his head rapidly, flushed skin glimmering under the glow of the moon. “ngh- f-faster, a-aaah~ please..” he whispered back pleadingly, tears gathering at the corners of his lashes.
it was truly a sight to behold — a part of cloud no one else had witnessed but you. and you had been the reason for his expressions, the noises he made — his reactions.. all of it was by your work.
wanting him to reach his high, to see the stars you had hoped he would see on your first time together, you quickened your ministrations, rolling your thumb over his tip. it was a little adventurous, but his moans was all the encouragement you needed to continue.
in an attempt to address your own aching heat, you slipped two fingers into the thin fabric of your panties, dragging them over your aching bundle of nerves before sliding them into your entrance.
a prolonged sigh escaped your lips, feeling your walls loosen around your fingers with each thrust while your partner became undone at the mixture of his own euphoria and the mere sight of you.
it made him strangely jealous, as he wanted to be the one to please you.
with a shaky breath, he reached down into the drawer of his nightstand for a familiar packet, carefully tearing it open when your breathing transitioned into panting.
you hadn’t even noticed that the self proclaimed ex-SOLDIER removed your hand from his cock, nor had you caught sight of him sliding a condom over himself.
no, it wasn’t until he grabbed your hips and brought you forward that you’d removed your hands at the brush of his tip against your clit, grasping ahold of his shoulders as a whine left your lips. “h-haahh~ cloud..” you drawled out in a needy beg, arching your back just slightly.
and that was all he needed to take you at last, sheathing himself slowly into your warmth.
he brought you impossibly closer to him at the squeeze of you against him, a staggered pant spilling past his appendages as he buried his face into your neck. “s-shit — was that too much?”
“n-no!” you refuted a little louder than planned, shaking your head. “j-just, one second.. a-and you can move..”
despite his worry, he took your word for it, exhaling lowly as he felt you shift.
with another sigh, you rested your chin on his shoulder, allowing yourself to nod. “o-okay, i’m good..”
cloud took it as a sign to continue as he pulled out slowly before plunging back into your core at an equal pace, steadily falling into an appropriate rhythm.
the stars you had thought of before in regards to cloud’s pleasure entered your vision at last when he nailed that special spot of yours.
“a-aahh~! cloud-!”
your whines and cries of his name was fueling enough to continue hitting that same spot, feeling you crash down on him harder.
“almost.. t-there..” he reassured you quietly, and perhaps even himself as well.
the knot coiling in your stomach was on the verge of snapping, one thrust away from unraveling completely.
in light of that, cloud captured your lips in a climatic kiss, swallowing your cries of elation when you met your end at last.
covered in a sheen of sweat, the blond gave you two more thrusts before removing himself from your dipping heat, allowing you to collapse against him.
his breath was far from even, yours no better than his own as he gazed up at the ceiling, eyes half lidded. “we should.. probably clean up..”
a tired laugh escaped you, having put together several other phrases he could have started with.. but then you reminded yourself that this was cloud strife — your very awkward, but adorable boyfriend.
“don’t w-worry,” you assured, sucking in another dose of air. “we will..”
notes. good grief i haven’t written smut in ages, i hope this was decent.. i feel like i’ve lost my touch😔 but wishing you a great day too, anon! along with anyone else reading this filth🫡
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munson-blurbs · 4 months ago
Note
I don’t know if you do Steve or(I have mostly seen your Eddie work which I love by the way)Eddie
but I’m let you choose but ex reader and (Steve or Eddie) angst to fluffy smut at the end and maybe they saw each other at the bar or something and those feelings turn into sweet ole fluffy smut 🫡 ( PFT I don’t know if that make sense) 😭💀
Eddie exes-to-lovers? I'm in.
Warnings: smut (18+ only, minors DNI), unprotected p in v, fingering, angst, hurt/comfort, jealousy, the fluffiest smut I've ever written
WC: 3.2k
Divider credit to @saradika-graphics
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You hated Eddie Munson. 
You hated the way he sloppily cut the sleeves of his Hellfire shirt in an obvious attempt to show off his tattoos. 
You hated the way he couldn’t keep a secret, always forgetting that they were supposed to be secrets in the first place. That’s how he’d spoiled your surprise birthday party. 
You hated the way he constantly sabotaged his own success. One would think he’d take you up on your offer to do homework together after his first failed senior year; instead, he’d practiced guitar riffs while you pored over your algebra textbook. Needless to say, he didn’t pass that year, either. 
You hated Eddie Munson and everything about him. 
And right now, you particularly hated the way he sat across the bar, talking to another girl and occasionally taking a sip of his drink. 
That used to be you, your fingers laced with his while he told you stories you’d heard one hundred times before. He’d bring your hand to his lips and kiss it, his lips curving into a smile before they even touched your skin. 
“I can’t believe you’re mine. Never gonna let you go, y’know that? You’re stuck with me forever.”
That ‘forever’ ended four years ago, when you went off to college and he needed to stay behind to finish high school. Cracks began showing as early as application season, the fracture complete once you decided to go to Northwestern without even considering Hawkins Community. 
“I don’t understand why you’d wanna go to that big, fancy school anyway. It’ll just be a bunch of rich preps and douchey frat guys guzzling beers through their assholes.”
You refrained from reminding him that he and Jeff had almost tried that same feat, and probably would have if you didn’t intervene. 
“Babe, it’s an amazing school. And I’ll be home on holidays and you can visit whenever you want.”
Even as you’d said it, you knew it wasn’t enough for him. It was a pulled thread in your tight-knit relationship, one that unraveled it throughout the summer. And just one week into your first semester, Eddie had uttered those dreaded words into the phone. 
“I don’t think this long-distance thing is gonna work out.”
That was that. The end of you and Eddie. 
Now, in that dimly lit bar, you tore your gaze from him and his date. Your drink shook in your trembling hand as you lifted it to your lips. 
Robin clocked your uneasiness, her eyes flicking over to where you’d been looking. “Jesus Christ,” she muttered, shaking her head. She glanced at you with nothing but sympathy. “You wanna get outta here?”
You gave your friend a grateful smile, but ultimately declined. “We just got our drinks.” You gestured to her barely-sipped rum and Coke. “We can go once we’re done.”
The two of you forged ahead with a conversation, but you couldn’t help stealing glances at Eddie and his date. Maybe it was the vodka making you more emotional, but tears pricked at your lash line when you saw him lean in and kiss her. 
“A-Actually, maybe we should leave.” You were only halfway done with your drink, but the thought of staying and continuing to watch him had you ready to hurl it all up. 
Robin nodded, grabbing her purse and closing out the tab. When she turned back to you, she froze. 
“What?”
“He’s looking at you.”
And dammit if your heart didn’t flip-flop. You did your best to ignore it, ignore the spark of hope it gave you. 
“He’s…” Your words caught in your throat. “C’mon, let’s just go.”
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You couldn’t sleep that night. The image of Eddie holding someone else’s hand flashed through your mind every time you closed your eyes. And the way he’d leaned in to kiss her, like he’d done it one thousand times before—it gnawed at you from the inside out. 
Tears slid down your cheeks and seeped into your pillowcase. You would have gone to the ends of the Earth to make that relationship work, while Eddie threw in the towel after just one week. You’d called him up in the dorm’s common room, expecting to talk to him about your day. 
Instead, you’d gotten dumped via phone call. 
You gave up on falling asleep around 4:30 AM. Padding into the kitchen, you brewed yourself a cup of coffee and poured it into your favorite mug. Steam tickled your nose as you took a sip, savoring the cocoa notes and the bitterness you craved that morning. Last night’s events came rushing back as soon as the caffeine hit your bloodstream. Eddie. The girl. The way he looked at her…did he ever look at you that way? It was bizarre seeing it from a different perspective.
The morning air was already humid, summer’s heat seemingly always unrelenting. You stretched out your legs on the steps of your front stoop, letting your muscles unclench as you breathed in a new day. 
It was just you, a smattering of chirping birds, and…a car rumbling down the street?
Hawkins was not a busy enough town for people to be driving down your sleepy street at this hour, and it wasn’t garbage day.
From around the corner came a familiar van. Your heart lurched in your chest when it came to a stop in front of your house. No. There was no way. Someone else in town must have the same exact van as him…with the same exact dent in the driver’s side door from when he’d opened it into a tree…
You scrambled to your feet, coffee sloshing over the side of the mug and onto the cement below you. 
“Hey, wait!” Eddie called out from his open window. He was dressed in a flannel and jeans, no doubt borrowed from his uncle. Killing the ignition, he hustled over to you before you could get through the door. “I need to talk to you.”
“I don’t have anything to say.”
Eddie shook his head and blew out a breath. “Look, I just…I wanted to tell you this at the bar, but you ran off–”
“So you came to my house?” You rolled your eyes. “Not creepy at all.”
He ran a hand through his curls. It was then that you noticed the missing rings, the skin slightly paler where they normally wrapped around his fingers. He tracked your gaze and looked at you with a bashful smile.
“Can’t wear them at the plant. I gotta tie my hair back, too.” He slid a ponytail holder off of his wrist and pulled back his frizzy mane, scrunching up his nose. “Always gives me a headache, though.”
You felt your guard slipping with each word he spoke. “It’s probably just too tight.” Without thinking, you gently tugged the rubber band farther from his scalp. “Better?”
“Yeah.” His voice was soft. Tender. Everything you remembered it to be back when things were good. “Please…can we talk?”
Despite your lingering heartbreak–or perhaps because of it–you nodded.
Eddie’s shoulders sagged in premature relief; the difficult part still laid ahead of him. “I didn’t sleep last night. I couldn’t sleep last night. Not after seeing you.” When his hand brushed against yours, you instinctively pulled away.
“No.” You held your ground as best as you could. “No, Eddie. You don’t get to touch me anymore. Especially not when you were the one with another woman.”
“Technically, so were you.” The joke fell flat, and he cleared his throat. “All right, fine. It was a second date with someone I met last week at the Hideout. Not someone I’m committed to.”
“Right. Because if you were committed to her, you’d just break up with her on the phone.”
Eddie reeled back, your retort a sucker-punch right to his gut. He took a few seconds to collect his thoughts before speaking again. “You don’t understand how hard it was for me,” he finally said, “to know you were far away, surrounded by a bunch of smart guys, while I was in my sixth year of high school.”
“I didn’t care about that—”
“But I did!” Eddie crossed his arms over his chest. “God, I could just picture the conversations you’d have with your new friends: ‘Eddie? He doesn’t go here; he’s still in high school. No, he’s not younger than me. He’s actually a year older. He’s just an idiot.’”
A huff escaped your lips. “I’d never say that!” Did he actually think you’d even consider it?
“But you could’ve!” He scraped a tooth against his lower lip. “It would’ve been the truth!”
“Except you’re not an idiot,” you protested. “And throwing yourself a pity party isn’t going to make me feel bad for you.”
You downed what remained of your coffee, now only lukewarm. 
“No, I know. I know.” Eddie pinched the bridge of his nose between his thumb and forefinger and shut his eyes. “This is coming out all wrong. Please, can we just go inside?”
No. The answer sat right on your tongue. And yet you found yourself opening the door and letting him in. 
Eddie sat down on the couch, making sure to leave enough space for you. He sighed when you remained standing, but began speaking again nevertheless.
“I’ve thought about you every goddamn day. And I know that’s not enough,” he rushed to add before you could say it yourself, “but I need you to know that I have. I wanted to call you a million times, but I always talked myself out of it. Figured it would just make you angrier.”
“You could’ve at least apologized.” You didn’t bother hiding the hurt in your voice; that façade had long since passed.
He nodded, shoving his hands in his pockets. “I’m sorry. I’m so, so sorry.” When he looked at you, his eyes were glassy with unshed tears. “I’m sorry I let my insecurities ruin everything. I’m sorry I broke your heart. I’m sorry that I never got to see your dorm room, or meet your new friends, or watch you walk that stage at graduation. I…”
Eddie was fully sobbing on your sofa, wiping his cheeks with calloused palms. “And I’m sorry that I still love you. I’m sorry that I can’t seem to let you go.”
He’d laid it all on the table for you, not hiding a single card in his hand. His gaze was raw with vulnerability; it seared into the hardened ice encasing your heart. 
“When I saw you at the bar last night…when I saw you looking at me…” Eddie let out a huff of air. “Maybe I was just getting my hopes up, but it felt like a part of you might still love me, too.”
And as that realization unraveled, as it unfurled like a flower finally blooming after winter’s frost, you found yourself nodding in agreement. 
All at once, Eddie stood in front of you. “Please say it,” he whispered, delicately cupping your face in his hands. “I need to hear you say it. Only if you mean it.”
“I still love you.” Your nose grazed his. “I don’t want to, but I do.”
“You don’t want to because I broke your heart?” When you answered in the affirmative, he leaned in and pressed a soft kiss to your forehead. “What if I promise that I’ll never break your heart again? What if I promise that it’s always been you?”
Your voice was soft, barely audible, when you told him, “Prove it.”
Eddie’s lips found yours, a magnetic pull that hadn’t weakened in the nearly four years you’d spent apart. “Course I’ll prove it,” he mumbled against your mouth. “Spend the rest of my goddamn life proving it.”
His hands slid up underneath your shirt, a ratty old tee reserved strictly for bedtime. There was no time to worry about it being the least sexy article of clothing you had; before you knew it, Eddie tugged it over your head and tossed it aside. He whimpered as he grabbed your breast, circling the nipple with his thumb. 
You’d only gotten two of his flannel buttons undone when you stopped. “Eddie, wait—don’t you have to go to work?”
Eddie laughed, his breath tickling your neck over the spot he’d been kissing. “I’ll just have to be late. Got something…more important to attend to.”
You couldn’t help but giggle at that, the two of you peeling off each other’s clothes until they lay in a heap on the floor. And then there was just you and Eddie, touching everywhere you could. 
“Baby.” The word was slurred, given the fact that his tongue was currently occupied with your nipples, your skin shining where his saliva remained. “Baby…fuck, I missed you.”
He was painfully hard, the tip of his cock flush against his tummy and leaking pre-cum. You wrapped your hand around the shaft, pumping him in a painfully slow rhythm. 
“Oh—ah!” Eddie hissed, steadying himself at your sudden touch. “F-Fuck, I—y-you can’t…too sensitive.”
You looked at him incredulously. “Already?”
Eddie nodded sheepishly. “You know how much I thought about this? Every time I…y’know…I imagined it was you.”
Just the mental picture of Eddie laying back in his bed, tugging on his cock while moaning your name, had you dragging him to the couch. No time to go all the way to the bedroom. 
The moment Eddie climbed on top of you as you lay on the cushions, his fingers drifted down to where you needed him most. His middle finger, then his ring finger, slid inside you with practiced precision. Picking up right where you’d left off. 
You clenched around him, your body greedy for more as his fingers moved in and out, in and out. 
“Eddie…” Just that one word was an effort; every brain cell focused only on the pleasure building between your thighs. “Eddie…Eddie…please…”
He nodded, his tongue darting out and swiping over his lower lip. “I remembered how much you love my fingers.”
It was true; his fingers were nothing less than magic. He swore it was because he played guitar, and maybe that was part of it, but the real reason was because he had you memorized. Knew exactly where to curl his fingers, exactly how to stroke your sweet spot until your legs were shaking. 
“You’re…you’re drenched.” He wasn’t cocky; he was awestruck. Absolutely shocked that you were so needy for him, that you’d missed his touch as much as he’d missed yours. “Gonna take care of you, baby, okay?”
You inhaled a staggered breath and melted into the couch. Eddie held total and complete control over you, and it surprisingly didn’t scare you in the least. 
The last thread of restraint snapped, your orgasm hitting you in waves. You cried out Eddie’s name. It was him bringing you to a new level of ecstasy. It was him giving you everything you could ever want. 
His movements slowed to let you float down from the high. His fingers were slick with your arousal, and he popped them in his mouth with a content sigh. 
“Tastes so sweet.”
God, you needed him. Needed him to fill you entirely. Needed him to clear your mind of any thought besides how good he made you feel. Needed him to hold you down and take whatever he desired. 
Your gaze dropped down to his erection. Eddie followed your eyes, then looked back at you. 
“D-Do you…?” He trailed off before composing himself. “I mean, is it okay if I—”
“Yes.” There was no other possible answer. There was nothing else you could possibly want besides that connection, that intimacy, with the man you could never stop loving. “Please.”
Eddie obliged without hesitation. He angled himself with your entrance, pushing into you so slowly that it teetered on agonizing. You knew it would feel good; it always had, even that first awkward time together. But this was something else entirely.
It was as though a missing puzzle piece clicked into place, unlocking everything you had stowed away over the last four years without him. Tears lazily flowed down your cheeks, but before you had time to be embarrassed, Eddie kissed them away.
“S’okay,” he murmured, continuing to thrust into you with utmost care. “You’re okay, baby.”
You managed a smile as you navigated the influx of emotions. You were okay. You were with Eddie again, safe in his arms, his touch both electrifying and soothing.
All that was left to do was sink into it. 
You accepted his love, wrapping yourself in it and savoring every morsel. One of your hands found his cheek, your thumb grazing over the hint of stubble he missed when shaving. His kisses were oxygen itself, breathing life into every cell in your body. Everything was Eddie. Everything was okay again.
And then you started to giggle. It was discreet at first, but then it bubbled over until your smile was too wide to ignore. Eddie couldn’t even kiss you without his lips touching your teeth. 
“Babe?” He cocked his head, examining you as laughter floated out of you. 
“Sorry.” Another peal of laughter. “I’m…I’m just so happy.”
Eddie grinned, ducking to kiss your neck. “Me, too. Me fucking too, baby.”
There was the ebb and flow, the give and take, the push and pull. You and Eddie, working in tandem to bring the other to their climax. 
Your orgasm blossomed deep within you. You dug your fingernails into Eddie’s back and wrapped your legs around his to draw him closer. 
“Ed-Eddie, I’m…” Your hips raised to meet his, filling in where your words failed. 
Eddie nodded and gently kissed your lips. “I know, sweet girl. Just let go for me.”
And so you did. With a cry of his name, you came. You let yourself unravel right there on the couch, and before long, he was joining you. 
“Baby, baby, baby.” He let out a groan as he spilled into you, giving you every last drop. His chest rose and fell as he withdrew and caught his breath, though he kept his hands on you the whole time. Like you might disappear if he let go. 
You reached up to smooth back a lock of his hair. You needed to look into his eyes, no obstructions, when you asked him the question weighing heavily on your heart. 
“Where do we go from here?”
Eddie flinched, clearly not expecting such a candid remark right after sex. He shook off his shock and replaced it with a smirk. 
“I say we shower off first.” His nose brushed yours and he kissed you once again. “And then I’d like to take you to breakfast once the diner opens. I think we have a lot to catch up on.”
You gazed up at him, taking in the chest muscles that had filled out with the addition of manual labor.
 A shower and a breakfast date. It was a plan—maybe not like the ones you made, where every moment was perfectly laid out. And it was more than Eddie’s usual fly-by-the-seat-of-his-pants demeanor. It was somewhere in the middle. A new equilibrium. 
“That sounds perfect.”
--
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lovedrruunk · 3 months ago
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'Forget her
In which you get played by your situationship. Jinx thinks you deserve better anyway. (drabble!!!)
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You sat on the couch in Jinx’s hideout staring blankly at the sky, your fingers tracing over the ripped leather of the furniture. The bitter pit in your stomach hadn’t left since you heard it. Those carefully chosen words that meant everything and nothing at the same time, but you weren’t even sure why you were surprised. It wasn’t like you hadn’t known deep down that things wouldn’t work out with her.
But it still stung.
The situation had been complicated from the start. No labels, no promises, just two people who occasionally crossed the line into something that felt almost like more. You thought it was heading somewhere, but apparently she didn’t. And today, with a few short sentences, she made that clear.
“I’m not looking for anything serious.”
Classic.
You clenched your jaw, sinking back into the cushions. The room felt heavy and you hated that you’d let yourself get invested. You weren’t even sure why you had told Jinx you’d come over. You didn’t want to be a downer, but the idea of sitting alone with your thoughts had been worse. So now you were just sitting here, feeling like a total idiot for ever thinking she was serious about you.
“Ya know, if you keep sulking like that I might start thinking you forgot I exist,” Jinx’s voice cut through your mental spiral, drawing your eyes towards her. She leaned against the doorframe, arms crossed looking at you with a raised brow. “Not a good look for you by the way.”
You snorted, rubbing a hand over your face. “Yeah, well, it’s been a day.”
Jinx pushed off the door, walking over to flop down next to you on the couch. “A ‘day,’ huh?" One look at your face and she already knew. "Lemme guess. Her?”
You hesitated, not really wanting to dive into the whole mess, but the look she gave you made it clear she wasn’t about to let this go, she never does. Wasn't necessarily a bad thing you figured, you liked that about her. “Yeah… her. She finally dropped the ‘let’s keep things casual’ bomb. As if I didn’t already know that’s where it was going.”
Jinx let out a long whistle, pretending to look thoughtful. “Wow, shocking. Who could’ve ever seen that coming? Definitely not me, noooo,” she said with obvious sarcasm.
You shot her a look. “I know, okay? I knew it wasn’t serious, I just… I don’t know, I guess I hoped maybe it’d turn into something more.” The bitterness in your voice was hard to hide, even if you were trying to downplay how much it bothered you.
Jinx didn’t say anything right away, but you could feel her watching you, her usual smirk faltering a bit. “Look, I’m not saying I hate the girl—”
You raised an eyebrow. “You definitely hate her.”
“—I’m not saying I hate her,” she repeated, this time with a little more emphasis. “But, y’know, she’s kind of… what’s the word?" She tapped her chin pretending to be in thought. "Trash.”
“Jinx.”
“What? I said I don’t hate her!” She threw up her hands, giving you an exaggerated innocent look before settling back against the couch, her tone becoming more serious. “But... seriously. You deserve better. You know that, right?”
You huffed, sinking further into the cushions. “Yeah, well, better isn’t exactly lining up around the block.”
Jinx’s brows furrowed, her lips twisting in that way she did when she was trying to keep something secret. “If it were me…” she started, then hesitated, glancing away like she was debating whether or not to continue.
You sat up a little, noticing the shift in her tone.
She cleared her throat, her voice a little quieter. “I’m just saying… If it were me, I wouldn’t make you guess all the time. You wouldn’t have to wonder where we stood, y’know? ‘Cause I’d make it pretty darn obvious.” She said with a light chuckle, her eyes glued to the floor.
You blinked, caught off guard by the shift in Jinx's tone. Her usual bravado had faded, leaving something raw in its place. You sat up a little straighter, turning to face her. “What are you saying?”
Her eyes flicked up to meet yours, and there was no teasing in them now. Just something deep, something real. She hesitated for a moment, like she was debating whether to push it further. And then she did.
“I’m saying…” She leaned in slowly, her voice barely a whisper “...I wouldn’t waste your time.”
You froze as she closed the distance between you, her hand brushing the back of your neck. For a second, neither of you moved. Her thumb grazed the skin just below your ear sending a shiver down your spine.
And then, before you could even process it, her lips were on yours.
The kiss was soft at first, tentative, like she was waiting for you to pull away. When you didn’t, she deepened it, her fingers threading through your hair, pulling you closer. Her lips were warm, and the way she kissed you made it clear, this wasn’t some spur-of-the-moment thing. She had thought about this. Wanted this.
After the initial shock you kissed her back, your hands finding their way to her shoulders, pulling her closer. The frustration and hurt that had been swirling in your chest moments ago melted away, replaced by a new kind of warmth.
Finally pulling away you stared at her breathless, heart still racing trying to process what just happened.
She pulled back slightly, still grinning but this time it was softer, less playful. “What?” she asked, her voice lighter, teasing. “Not what you expected?”
You let out a small laugh, looking away feeling your face get hot. “Not exactly.”
“Well, I like surprising you.” She leaned in again, her lips ghosting over yours, but this time, she didn’t kiss you, just hovered close enough that you could feel her smirk widen. “So, you wanna sit here and keep sulking?...
Or do you wanna graffiti the bitch’s house?”
. . .
;p !!! this was super fast paced and unrealistic but its just practice! plus my first one shot in months! and tbf in what realistic world would jinx be in a relationship anyway lol... hope u liked!
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candlewaxandp0lar0ids · 1 year ago
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hoodie season || Chan x Reader
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Summary: You're not stealing Chan's hoodies. He's not happy about it.
Word count: 1.4k
Warnings & Tags: Tooth-rutting fluff, established relationship, that should be it.
A/N: Wrote a silly lil one-shot for an idea I got tonight! This was literally written in under two hours, so, uh, I hope you enjoy it as much as I did lol and I apologize for any typos.
Reblogs, feedback and comments are welcome and encouraged!
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It starts, without you being aware of it, on a July evening. You and Chan have only been dating for a couple weeks then, and you feel like you’re on cloud nine. For the better half of the night, which you’re spending with his friend group, you’re in his arms, your back against his chest, his chin comfortably resting on your shoulder. Changbin and Jisung tease him about it, but he shrugs it off like it means nothing. He’s got you now, and he likes showing you off, so why wouldn’t he?
It does take you aback when he lets go of you and the cold hits you. It was hot outside all day, and you hadn’t realized that the temperature had dropped by this much. A shiver shakes you to your core, which Chan doesn’t miss, even if he’s being called away to play the guitar.
“You want my hoodie?” he asks, eyes filled with concern.
“No, I’m okay, babe,” you say with a smile. “I’ve brought a jacket.”
He nods, and that’s all there is to it.
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It comes back on a night the two of you are spending out. Chan takes you out to this fancy restaurant, and you dress accordingly, always pleased when you get a chance to impress him — and impress him you do. He does that thing that you think is adorable, where he keeps giggling throughout the meal. Under the table, your knees keep touching, and every time, without fail, his ears turn bright red. You love that you still have that effect on your boyfriend of three months.
After that, because you’re near a park, you decide to go for a walk in the night air. It doesn’t take long before you’re shivering in your small, tight dress.
“I’ve got a hoodie in my car,” Chan says, ever the gentleman. “Want me to go get it for you?”
You’re not keen on being left alone in the dark, and your high heels mean that if you go with him, it’ll take much longer than it should. Plus, it would ruin your outfit.
“It’s fine,” you say, arranging your scarf so it wraps around your shoulders. “We’ll be heading home soon anyway, right?”
“Sure,” he nods quickly, and it’s your turn to giggle, because it’s so cute, how Chan always indulges you.
He ends up picking you up when you’re walking back too slowly for his taste, and you protest, but you’re no longer cold when you get to his car.
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 The subject — which, by the way, you still haven’t realized is a subject — comes back yet again on a night you’re spending in his apartment. You’re coming out of the shower, a towel wrapped around you, and you’re going through your bag to find the clothes you’d planned on wearing for the night when something lands on the bed in front of you. You glance up to find Chan looking at you, leaning against the door frame.
“Just in case you get cold.”
You have, slowly but surely, made your way into November, but Chan’s place is warm, and you know you’ll have a human radiator, so you grin at him.
“I have a feeling I won’t be needing it tonight.”
Chan grins — but his ears turn red, even now.
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 You do a Secret Santa, a few days before Christmas, with Chan and his friend group, at Changbin’s place. It’s an incredibly nice house, but it’s big and it’s old, and you soon find yourself huddling against Chan for warm. It makes him laugh at first, and he presses a kiss into your hair, arm solidly wrapped around you as he rubs your arm. When you don’t appear to warm up as the night keeps going, he disappears for a few minutes, ignoring your protests.
He comes back from his car and hands you one of his signature black hoodies.
“You’re my savior, babe,” you sigh as you pull it over your head.
Chan beams.
His victory is short-lived, though, because you pull away from him after that — with the hoodie, cuddling makes you too hot.
You leave the hoodie neatly folded in his car when you both go back to your place for the night.
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It’s just a few days later that you meet Chan’s family for the first time. You’re all dressed-up, determined to do your best so that they’ll like you, even if Chan’s promised you that they would, no matter what, because he loves you, and that’s all they care about.
He dropped the word so easily, and you were left speechless. You haven’t stopped thinking about it since.
Even now, when you’re sitting next to him, making small talk with his mom and listening to his sister tease him playfully, you have butterflies in your stomach. The hand he’s placed over yours on the table, again making it look so natural, so easy for him, isn’t helping.
“Wanna go for a midnight walk?” he offers, later that night. “It’s kind of a family tradition.”
“Sure,” you say, voice squeakier than usual, and he tilts his head as he studies you, but he doesn’t comment on it.
“You’re not dressed warm enough,” he warns you, and before you can say that you’ve brought appropriate clothing, he’s taking off his hoodie and pulling it down over your head. “There. All good.”
It’s late when you come back, so you both wish his parents a goodnight before Chan drives you back to your apartment. You wait until you’ve made it up the stairs and you’ve opened the door to put your arms around him and pull him down for a kiss. It’s soft, slow, and filled with all of your emotions.
“What’s that for?” Chan whispers against your lips. He’s warm against you, his hands on your hips, and you feel so grounded by him. You always do.
“I love you too,” you whisper back.
The hoodie ends up forgotten on the floor.
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You celebrate New Year’s Day with Chan’s friends, again, but really, they’re your friends by now. You get at Changbin’s house early so you can help with the cooking and decorating the place, and end up teaming up with Felix and Minho in the cooking department, while Hyunjin takes over the decorations and forbids everyone from approaching him while he works.
It’s not because he’s shy. It’s because he thinks you’re all terrible.
Chan arrives kind of late minute, busy working on songs, as always, while you’re putting out the drinks you’d brought with you. You greet him with a quick kiss. You still have a million things to do.
“I’ve got your hoodie in my bag, you should put it back in your car,” you just tell him as you rush back into the kitchen.
You miss the way he pouts at you.
It’s later that night, but still with a couple hours to go until midnight, that he approaches you while you’re outside, staring up at the night sky and enjoying the fresh air after hours cooped up inside. He wraps his arms around your waist, buries his head in your neck. You lean back into the familiar touch with a satisfied sigh — until he mumbles something unintelligible.
“What was that?” you ask with a frown.
Even with the only light coming through the windows of Changbin’s house, you can tell he’s blushing when he pulls away from you.
“Why aren’t you keeping my hoodies?”
You blink at him.
“…because they’re your hoodies?”
He opens his mouth, closes it.
“Yeah, but they’re kinda… your hoodies too, y’know?”
You tilt your head slowly, and soon, you’re unable to fight the grin that’s spreading on your lips as you watch him get increasingly pouty.
“Do you want me to steal your hoodies?”
The blush spreads.
“Do you like it when I wear them?”
You’re just having fun now.
“Yeah,” he answers, before cocking an eyebrow at you. “Think it’s hot, by the way.”
You burst out laughing, and he tightens his hold around you when that takes you away from him. God, do you love that man. Once you’ve collected yourself, you reach a hand up to gently cup his cheek.
“Okay, I’ll steal your hoodies. Anything for you, love.”
He smiles, satisfied, and kisses you softly. He brings a hand to cover yours, entangles his fingers with yours.
You don’t tell him, but the truth is, you feel warm and fuzzy all over inside whenever he’s around.
So you don’t see the point in having a hoodie when you can have him instead.
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taglist: @lethallyprotected @jisuperboard
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honey-on-your-tongue · 9 days ago
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Hey, I wanna a a request from you.. about the worst wolverine!Logan (or the one in th x-men series) × mutant!fem!reader.
Reader may have powers like Wanda Maximoff or Jean Grey, but she's stronger. Anyway, there's my main plot; enemies to lovers, a HUGE breeding kink, possibly pregnancy(the a result of the kink hehe) Wade is the person who introduced them, and Reader's Wade' bestfriend. They saved the eart 10005 and they celebrated this at Wade's (and Blind Al's) house. Logan may be a complete jerk to the reader at first, and he may have attacked the reader in the scene in the Honda Odyssey, but then things change and so on. Can you write somethin' like that? If you do, thanks already!!! See ya, bub, take care of yourself.
I’VE HAD THIS IN NY DRAFTS FOREVER WHAT
HAPPY HOLIDAYS
I hope you enjoy this, babes ❤️
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Ever since Wade came looking for him and took him to earth 10005, Logan’s life has been easier. There’s less hate towards him (which is an understatement, really; he’s now adored and it never ceases to surprise him) and it feels like, maybe, he’s redeemed himself from what he did. Maybe, his luck has finally started looking up.
But then there’s you. You infuriate him. Every time he sees you, he just wants to put his claws through your ribs. Although he did that already, in the Void, in that stupid fucking Odyssey. But it wasn’t nearly enough. God, he can’t stand you. The way you talk, the way you walk, the way you handle yourself. Sharing an apartment with Wade and Blind Al doesn’t bother him, he even stands Mary Puppins and her hairlessness. But you? You who likes to walk around at night in an oversized shirt and sweatshirts, who leaves the apartment smelling of your perfumes and shampoo after you shower, who he can hear as you fuck yourself with your fingers night after night.
His room is next to yours, he’s heard the way you work yourself up, how you eventually manage to get your pussy soaked enough to stuff your fingers into yourself. It pisses him off. And what he hates most is that his body reacts to it. Having been so hated in his world means that the last time he had sex was…Well. It’s been a while.
So he uses that as an excuse. Of course he doesn’t want you, his body just needs the sex, that’s all. He wants the sex, the release. Nothing more.
Maybe that’s why he does what he does.
On one of those nights where Blind Al is probably too out of it with her cocaine and Wade is probably at Vanessa’s, he hears you. The sweet sounds of your little whimpers and your heavy breathing, the obscene, slick noises that leave your cunt as you fuck her with your fingers. And Logan can’t take it. He just cannot take it anymore.
He barges into your room and delights in the way you react. Your wide eyes, the way you scramble to pull your fingers out of yourself and cover your body with the bed sheets.
“Logan!” you yell, cheeks blushing furiously. “What the fuck are you doing?!”
“What are you doing, bub? Touching yourself like you think I can’t hear, or like you hope I will.”
“You didn’t even fucking knock,” you continue, mortified.
He closes the door after himself, locks it just in case. “You’ve been at it for hours, bub. Hours. Is something wrong?”
Still flushed, you refuse to reply. You just clutch the bed sheets tighter.
“Can the poor little girl not come on her own?” Logan insists, smiling. When you fail to answer again, he insists, “Hm? Do you need help, girl?”
The look in your eyes tells him everything he needs to know. The scent of your arousal thickens and he’s lost.
He’s quick to crawl onto the bed, prowling over you. He leans down, lips nudging at your neck as he gently pushes the bed sheets aside. “Let me see you, baby,” he says lowly, his eyes hungrily taking you in.
You’re so beautiful, prettier than he ever thought you’d be.
His already hard cock twitches in his pants, demanding attention, but he ignores it. For now.
“So pretty,” he says, mouthing at your jaw as his hand slips between your thighs. He touches the slickness spread over your skin, how warm your pussy is. Your folds are swollen, your clit throbbing. You’re probably raw from how long you’ve been touching yourself, so he’ll make sure to not overdo it. He’d hate to hurt you.
He slips a finger into you, groaning as he finds little resistance. “God, you’ve got yourself all stretched out already. All open for me.”
He leans back onto his knees, pushing your legs up to your chest and spreading them apart. He eyes your cunt, all needy and spread wide.
Growling quietly, he reaches for his pants. He pushes them down to his thighs, his eyes on you. “Let me put my cock in you, bub,” he says, almost begging.
You’re so out of it, dazed with the need to come and the lust that’s overcome you, that you just nod in agreement. “Yeah, yes.”
He wastes no time. Slowly, he nudges into you and fills you to the brim, the breath leaving his lungs. “Fuck, Logan.”
“Yeah, I know.” He grins, pleased with himself. He starts out slow, thrusting into you with care as he tests the waters. When your pussy releases its grip on him some, he thrusts harder, deeper.
You squeal, hands gripping onto his forearms as they hold your legs to your chest, keeping you nice and spread for him. Your nails dig into his skin, your eyes squeeze shut. He’s fucking you too hard for you to even say much. You just whimper, gasp, mewl.
It helps that you’ve been touching yourself for so long. You come around him with so much force that your body falls limp against the bed, your pussy spasming around his cock.
And it’s not fair to him. He hasn’t had sex in so long, how is he even supposed to hold back.
“Oh, baby. Oh, baby. I’m gonna fill you up, bub. Gonna put my child in you.”
You gasp at the words, whining lowly.
“Yeah? You want me to make you a momma? You can make me a daddy, hm, bub? Yeah?”
Your body writhes underneath his, your eyes wide as they meet his. “P-please, yes. Please.”
That’s all he needs. Not only did you just give him permission, but you’re begging him for it.
“Baby. I’m gonna fill you up, ‘m gonna fill this pretty pussy with all my come and you’re gonna keep it in you. You’re gonna give me a child, maybe two if you behave, hon.”
And he does. When he comes, rope after rope of thick, sticky come spurt into you. He fills you up until it’s dripping out of you, until he’s spent and he can’t come anymore.
You two stay there a while, trying to regain your breaths and let the high wash away. He kisses your forehead softly and lays own next to you, knowing he’s gonna be ready to go soon.
For the next few weeks, it’s more of the same. He fucks you again and again, filling you with his cum to the brim every time.
That’s why it’s no surprise to you when you miss your period. No surprise at all. In fact, you have no doubt that Logan is going to be thrilled. Now there’s only the matter of telling him…
---
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0oolookitsme · 5 months ago
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Piece of His Heart
Hii everyone, I'm back from my long hiatus!! Hope you missed me because boy did I miss YOU! <3 This one is a little emotional, a little sweet, and VERY Harry focused. Also, I was inspired to write this piece while listening to 'London's Song' by Matt Hartke, and trust me, it's a lovely song. Anyways, hope you enjoy!
Verse - Artist!Harry x Photographer!Y/n
Word Count - 1.0k
Warnings - Mentions of unplanned pregnancy, financial stress.
Harry and Y/n were students, and now, parents to a newborn babygirl as well. With all of the newfound emotions rushing through them, one thing he knew was that they were going to build this new little family slowly, and lovingly.
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Harry looked up at the ceiling, at the overused fan moving slowly and creakily, with one of his arms under his head while the other one remained draped over his little baby's back. 
She was curled up on top of him, breathing softly, her little hands fisting his shirt. 
Daylight was pouring into the room through the gap between the two curtains, and Harry still couldn't believe that the little one sleeping away on his chest was finally here, after a worthwhile wait of a full nine months.
He still remembers the nickname he'd given her while she was still inside her mum's belly – 'Pumpkin' he had called her, and her little frame couldn't have agreed more with him. 
Full and round cheeks hung a little low on her face, her small mouth in a pout and eyes as circular as pearls, nothing if not the true meaning of grace.
Which is why he'd settled with the name 'Opal', grinning widely while Y/n had nodded furiously with tears in her eyes, saying how it was the perfect name ever.
His mornings suddenly became impossibly sweeter, something he hadn't expected since he had moved back in this childhood home with Y/n.
A few days ago, when he had laid his eyes on the bundle of sunshine for the very first time ever, a huge piece of his heart, if not his entire heart, had been taken right then and there. 
Sighing, Harry got up very carefully, wary of waking up the newborn and then, when he successfully hadn't, laid her on the two person size sofa – all that he could fit in the name of a seat inside his small art studio. 
He had just turned to get back to his awaiting Canvas, when Opal began mumbling. She was talking in her sleep, he realised with a smile growing on his face, making his dimples show up. 
Another piece of his heart was taken then. 
He wondered, each time that she slept, about just what she was dreaming up. On nights, he worried if she wasn't warm enough, wanted her to know that there was a blanket of stars above her – but he knew he could wait until she began talking to do that. 
Even though he couldn't afford the best, he was going to make this work. He was going to be the best father out there, give Opal all of his love, all with Y/n by his side.
Putting back down the paintbrush he had picked up because he couldn't stop thinking of her, Harry walked back over with his stool to sit and watch her. He crossed over the chair, his front against the chair's backrest as he rested his face on his arms, gazing down with a soft smile on his mouth. 
"I can't wait for you to grow up so that we can talk, you know? So, hopefully, you can tell me if this is where you'll always wanna be," he spoke, brushing away the unruly mop curls on her head. 
"And we can go to a place where you look at the light and it splinters," he sighed, moving to cover her up with a blanket. "Where there's plenty of gas in our car to last us the cold, cold winter," tears glazed over his sight, sniffling as he looked at her small figure lull to side as she slept – he almost let slip a chuckle. 
Right then, she took whatever pieces were left of his heart. 
Winter this year wasn't easy, but that wasn't to say that it wasn't the best one aside from the ones he had spent with Y/n. So much financial stress had come with the unplanned pregnancy, and now a baby. But he knew that the both of them could pull through the loans and make it out as a happy and healthy family, if they stuck together. 
Y/n’s dad, a single father, was a little bit bitter about the whole situation but had begrudgingly stepped forward to help out the two with handling the house, seeing as the both of them had to attend college as well as take care of the baby. He dropped off the groceries last weekend, along with the last minute new-born-baby stuff that Y/n had told him they needed. 
Even Anne stepped forward, letting the two of them borrow a room in her house for as long as they needed – likely until they could get back up on their own feet financially.
Currently, as Harry sat feeling overwhelmed with all of the love and other emotions rushing through him, he could hear Anne talking to Y/n down the hall. The walls weren’t the thickest and he could tell that Anne was sharing her own stories with Y/n, telling her about how she’d had Harry at a young age, and more. 
He’d heard it before, had even seen the two of them having this chat. So he knew that Anne, very likely, had Y/n’s head in her lap and brushing her hands through her hair, trying to console the woman high on hormones and the insurmountable number of emotions she must be feeling. 
Wiping away at his nose with the sleeve of his flannel, Harry blinked away the tears and pulled up a smile on his face again, trying to be courageous, for Y/n and their daughter. Because he knew that Y/n was doing the same for them. For the little family they were both going to build slowly and lovingly now.
"But I also want you to be this little forever, so that I can cherish you enough, yes?" He asked her, nodding his head when she mumbled something incoherent, something similar to ‘we’ll be fine, dada', Harry wanted to believe. 
And unable to help himself, he picked her up again, holding her flush against his exposed torso because he didn’t have the energy to button up his shirt and the skin to skin contact made breathing a little easier. 
"I'll love you tenderly," he whispered, pressing a kiss on her forehead. "I'll love you forever, and more, little pumpkin." 
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wolfiesmoon · 1 year ago
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I can't sleep
Ran x good girl!reader
Do i want a bad boy (literal criminal) bf? Yea but i would probably cry if he insulted me or got into trouble in any capacity at all
(i am totally not unironically vibing to pretty little psycho while writing this)
edit: i made a part 2!!
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"I dare you to kiss Haitani Ran." Your friend nudged you.
You knew you shouldn't have agreed to this stupid game of truth or dare. You knew your friend was going to make you do stupid stuff like this.
"Like... the big scary delinquent guy?" You asked, hoping you heard her wrong.
"Yeah, that Haitani Ran." Your friend smirked mischeviously.
"How about I don't do that?" The last thing you'd want to do is get involved wth any delinquents or gangs. You have no idea how dangerous Ran could be and even if he wasn't you'd still refuse to kiss a good for nothing delinquent.
"Are you trying to get me killed?" you followed up, realising just how bad this dare could end up.
"You do know that refusing this dare means that you have to do anything I say for a week, right?" Your friend had a horribly evil look on her face. You don't even want to know the things she would make you do if you refused this stupid dare.
But is kissing Ran any better? Pick your poison, you suppose.
"Fine, I'll do it." You said behind clenched teeth, not at all happy about this outcome. You've never even kissed before, and now you have to kiss freaking Ran Haitani. You might actually die.
Why did you agree? What is wrong with you?
This might just be the worst day of your life.
You ended up being a little unfocused in class, making your teacher worry.
.
"Haitani-san." you call out to him, your voice dying off slightly at the end due to nerves. You're the only ones left in the classroom, with your friend watching from behind the door to make sure you actually do it. He looks back at you and you feel a shiver run through you.
Oh my god, you're actually doing this.
He stops, waiting to see what you want with him. You move closer to him, and his eyes narrow slightly, as if he's getting a good look at you.
"Now, what could the class president herself possibly want with me?" his tone was slightly mocking and you would have showed him you're not to be messed with but honestly you'd probably be the one losing in that scenario.
You inhaled sharply, pulling him down by his braids and planting a kiss straight onto his lips. This feels like a bad shojo plot, the "good girl" falls in love with the "bad boy" and kisses him all of a sudden. Except there's no romance involved here. Just a dare.
Is this how you kiss? Why does it feel so strange? That should be enough, right? You can feel your parents shaking their heads dissaprovingly already.
Ok, now you're just kissing him for way too long. It's time to let go. And you try to, you really do. Since when were his arms wrapped around your waist, anyways? And why isn't he letting you go?!
You can feel your friend's evil stare burning into your back. This is not amusing!
He laughed a little into the kiss, pulling you impossibly closer. Oh, so they're both going to enjoy your suffering now, you see how it is.
Still, kissing him isn't half ba-
Ok, you're actually losing it. You need out and fast.
You wriggled out of his grasp, running away as fast as your legs could take you. You heard both Ran and your friend yell something behind you but you honestly don't care.
Why did you ever agree to do this?!
.
That same thought persisted even as you tossed and turned in bed that night.
"Oh god, he's going to send his goons after me and I'm gonna die... And then I won't ever get to become successful..." you muttered to yourself.
"Or maybe he's gonna come and kill me myself after school tommorow... Ugh..." you can't come to school tired, you won't be able to pay attention in class that way. You can't ruin your perfect record by falling asleep in class.
Who cares about the perfect record?! You should be worried for your life!
"And what is that stupid noise, anyways?" you muttered, grumbling and getting up to inspect the source. Another stone hits the window, making you jump slightly. You walk to the window and open it, narrowly avoiding a stone that was thrown your way.
"Sorry!~"
Wait. You'd recognise that voice anywhere.
It's Ran.
"What are you doing here? How did you even get my adress?" you half yelled, not wanting to wake up your parents.
"You shouldn't sweat the little things. Come downstairs." he was smiling calmly, but you still couldn't tell if he was threatening you. Actually, is that his motorcycle parked next to him?
"You should probably put on a jacket too. It's real cold." he added on, and you nervously closed the window, quietly sneaking downstairs and putting on a jacket. Your pyjamas are not the most presentable, but you really don't want to test his patience right now.
You met him outside. What is he going to do to you now?
"Get on." he pointed to his bike, catching you off guard.
"Not without a helmet, riding a motorcycle without one can be really dangerous and you could lose your life." you couldn't help but bring up safety regulations. It's in your nature.
"I told you, don't sweat the details and just sit down." he completely ignored you, pushing you in the direction of the bike. You complied, sitting down on it awkwardly, not sure what to expect. He doesn't seem violent...
He sat down behind you, revving up the engine and just driving off without a care in the world.
"W-Wait!" you were shocked at the speed, grabbing onto him by instinct and missing the way his lips curved up at that.
"Where are you taking me?! I never consented to this!" you had to yell over the sound of the engine, shutting your eyes. He was right, it really is cold when you're riding on a motorcycle.
"And you know what I didn't consent to? That kiss." he replied and your face scrunched up a little, cringing at the not so distant memory. "But that's fine, because that means you're mine now."
"Huh?!" you finally opened your eyes, looking up at him. His expression was a little hard to make out since the only thing illuminating it was street lights that you were speeding past. Is he even following the speed limit?
"I value my sleep, you see. And that little stunt you pulled made me unable to fall asleep. So I figured I might as well give you a little visit." he placed a hand over you protectively, making you worry about your safety even more.
"Who would have thought the top of the class good girl would fall for me?" he looked down at you.
"I did not fall in love with you! It was a dare!" you shot back.
"Oh well, doesn't matter. You're my girl now. And that's that."
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enhaheeseung · 6 months ago
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BREAK UP - L. HEESEUNG
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Pairing: heeseung X fem reader
Warnings: crying, break up, angst, heartbreak, arguments.
Word count: 1400+
Note: another short one, continuation of part 1 you can read it here
Part 3
-
You barely made it to the driveway with your luggage, and your boyfriend, now ex-boyfriend, was literally following you into the parking lot in his boxers, practically begging you not to leave him. “Babe, please don’t go,” he said, holding onto the door handle on the driver's side, stopping you from getting in.
“Move,” you told him dryly, trying your best to keep your composure.
“No” he shook his head back and forth and you sighed deeply. “Let’s just talk it out, please, y/n. I regret what I said, and I don’t even know why I said it cause I love you, and I need you so much, baby. You don’t understand. Just the thought of not waking up next to you, is killing me inside.”
“Well, you said it so easily like our relationship meant nothing. You ended five years in five seconds like my feelings didn’t matter. It killed me inside to hear you say that to me, and now you only care now that you’re hurting,” you kept your tears at bay for however long that would be.
“No baby, listen, I love you, okay? I was stupid to even say that to you. I’m sorry I hurt you.” his hand slipped off the handle, reaching to take hold of your hand, but you evaded his touch.
You unlocked the car, attempting to leave so you wouldn’t have to talk to him any longer. It was already hard enough to leave him. You didn’t want to make it harder and stay.
“Wait, y/n, I-“
“I thought you said you were done talking,” you rudely cut him off, replying to him harshly.
“I meant none of it. Believe me, please just come back inside.” You could hear the desperation in his voice grow with every syllable.
“Nothing you say can ever change my mind.” You used his own words against him, glaring at him as you opened the back door and loaded up your luggage before entering the driver's side.
“Just give me a chance, please, baby, don’t leave me.” his voice was soft, barely audible after being mixed with the strong winds outside.
“I’m done talking” you shut the door in his face no matter how many tears rolled down his cheeks and no matter how hard he tried to get the door open you ignored it all backing the car out of the driveway while he begged and pleaded for you to stay even going as far to come out into the street despite the neighbors watching the whole scene unfold.
A tear finally rolled down your cheek, and you could still see him in your rearview mirror, watching him for one last time as you got further and further away from him.
He stood at the edge of the driveway, not even caring about being in his underwear. All that plagued his mind was the thought of never seeing you again as your car disappeared into the distance.
-
You arrived safely at your parent's house a few hours later. They asked tons of questions when you came through the door, but all you told them was that you and heeseung broke up.
That’s the only thing you could manage to get out.
Of course, they were shocked, angry, curious, and sad all at once, but you couldn’t talk about it right now. You were too hurt. Toluckily, they understood you wanted to be alone right now, and you appreciated that cause you just needed some time to register what was actually happening and what breaking up with heeseung meant for your future.
You plopped down on your old bed after putting your luggage down, staring at the ceiling and wondering how things went so wrong in the past year.
One week after the breakup
[Voicemail One]
“Hey baby, did you arrive safely? I texted you a week ago, but you didn’t read them,” he dryly chuckles. “Anyways, I hope you did. I hope you’re resting well and having fun with your family. I’m sorry again for hurting you; I just- I don’t know,” he sighs frustratedly. “You’re probably never gonna get this, uhm, bye, I guess.”
Two weeks after the breakup
[Voicemail Two]
“Hey, little one, I know you’re not listening, but it brings me comfort just sending this to your phone. It’s like I’m really talking to you.” he clears his throat softly. “I miss you, and I love you so much, can’t stop thinking of you and what you’re up to. I’m not doing much; I'm just working like always, but I’m off this week. They gave me a full week's vacation,” he sighs, wishing he had gotten it a few weeks sooner. Maybe that dreadful night wouldn’t have ever occurred. “Wish I could spend it with you. I wish I could spend every day with you.” he goes silent, just thinking about you and him and all the things he could have done differently instead of irrationally taking his anger out on you. “I hope your days are better than mine. I’m gonna go now. Bye love”
Three weeks after the breakup
[Voicemail Three]
“Hi love, how are you? I’m doing good, but it could be better. Vacation isn’t the same without you. It’s so…. Silent, I miss our conversations. I miss how we’d just cuddle all night and be lazy together, “ he laughs. “It’s ironic now I have all this free time and no one to spend it with. I know this will be the most boring week of my life, but I hope you’re having fun wherever you are, even if it’s not with me. Talk to you later, baby.”
One month later…..
[Voicemail Four]
“Hi, sweetheart. I thought you might like to know I’m sleeping more and eating a lot more, too. I barely get any work done now cause I’m always thinking of you. You take up every crevice of my brain. I’ve been sleeping 'cause it feels like time goes faster that way, and when I’m asleep, I don’t have to think about how much I miss you, and well, I eat more 'cause I’m bored,” he chuckles at himself. “I’m a mess, but I’m sure you already know that. By the way, I literally begged for you to stay. Well, I’m sure I’m probably ringing your ear off, so I’ll say bye. I’ll call you again tomorrow, same time. Love you, baby, bye!”
Two months later…..
“Oh umm, hi, I wasn’t expecting you,” heeseung grins at your mom, who was standing outside his door.
He wasn’t expecting any visitors, but he was pleasantly surprised to see her face.
“Hi,” she greets, simply not as cheery as she once used to be when she saw him. “Y/n said she had a few things, and I offered to get them for her.”
Heeseung nods with a smile, opening the door wider so your mom can enter. “Come in.” he can’t say that he’s not a bit sad that you didn’t come over to get the remaining items you had left at his place. He was hoping maybe he’d get to see you at least one more time, but apparently not.
Your mom enters with perfect posture, her head held high, making it obvious that she wasn’t the least bit impressed with what she used to call her son-in-law.
“How are you?” He says timidly while they walk to the living room, where your stuff is placed neatly in a brown box.
“Fine” she answers headed straight for the box not interested in even talking to him after what you told her about him.
“And y/n?” He asked with a hopeful glint in his eyes, hoping to at least get an update on your whereabouts and how you were doing after all this time.
“She’s fine is this all there is?” Your mother responds quick leaving no room for any other questions.
He feels his body relax. Just knowing you’re doing okay made him feel better. “Y-yes, I’m glad to hear you’re both doing well.” he offers a smile that doesn’t even get noticed. “Would you like me to take that to the car f-“
“I have it, thank you, heeseung.” She used his real name, something she never did after you and him started officially dating, and it hurt his heart being called that by her.
She walked to the exit, seeing her own way out. “By-“The door gets all but slammed in his face, making him feel even worse about what he’s done to you and, evidently, your family as well.
He locks his door, shuffles back into his bedroom, lying on your side of the bed, and pulls out his phone so he can send you yet another voicemail.
-
Thanks for reading likes comments and reblogs are always appreciated sorry for any typos or errors I hope you all have a good day/night♥️
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saerins · 1 year ago
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𝐒𝐀𝐄 // 𝐂𝐎𝐍𝐕𝐄𝐑𝐒𝐀𝐓𝐈𝐎𝐍𝐒: 𝐑𝐄𝐒𝐓𝐀𝐑𝐓
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+ sae x f!reader | wc 5k | content: angst to fluff, breakups, exbf!sae, exes to lovers
notes: this is the alternate ending to conversations ! (requested by one of my anons) i’m so sorry this took so long !!! and i’m 100% sure you did not expect me to write anything this long but i’m sorry my hand slipped >_< again … i’m super rusty but i hope you guys still like this ^_^
summary: sae’s willing to throw everything else away to prove that out of everything in his life, you’re the one sure thing he needs. problem is, will you accept him after what he’s done?
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he’s sorry.
he repeats it in his head, over and over again, his fingers almost numb from repeatedly pressing the call button on your number—over and over and over again.
sorry, sorry, sorry.
it’s no use, he knows. it’s why he’s here—why he’s taking a flight, bare-handed, back to japan, back to home, back to you.
“please switch off your phone, sir,” the flight attendant says politely, dutily, as the plane starts to move.
begrudgingly, he resigns, but the moment he starts hearing your voicemail message play, he sighs, speaking into the receiver.
“look, i know i fucked up and it was stupid of me to keep it from you. i’m sorry, okay? and i know you don’t want to speak to me right now but i can’t just sit around and do nothing. i love you, so i’m coming back home, and we’ll talk, and then… i promise you, nothing like this will happen again.”
yes, because he’ll make sure of that. he’ll make sure he doesn’t make decisions like a stupid teenage boy and he’ll make sure to trust you at every turn instead of trying to hide anything from you because you’re right. never in the course of your relationship did you ever doubt sae.
which is a feat. because given his profession and status, any number of girls would’ve been distrusting had they been in your position. not that sae knows, what can he say he knows about girls? nothing, apparently. after today, that much is sure.
as he turns his phone on aeroplane mode, he throws his head back and looks out of the plane window. less than a day till he’ll be there to see you in person. he’s not sure if you’re going to even want to see him, but he’ll try. you deserve that much, at least.
in his head, the same words repeat over and over again.
i’m sorry.
i love you.
you’re all i ever want.
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by the time sae’s plane touches down, it’s night time in japan, close to midnight. you should be resting, probably tired out from crying; he can imagine, because stupid as he may be, he can at least say he knows you this much.
your words can be hard, cold, cruel, but you never are. you’re all soft inside, and you’d rather face your emotions alone than let anyone know how you feel. at least, when those emotions concern sae. you’ll keep them to yourself and keep crying, day after day, until you can’t find it in yourself to care anymore.
passport in one hand, his phone in another, he whisks off toward the taxi stand, mind in a mess because his phone’s now ringing with messages from everyone that isn’t you, probably concerning his absence from the last match of the tournament.
fuck the final match.
you probably thought he’ll play anyway. that he’ll play the match, and only afterwards would he attempt things further with you.
funnily enough, that’s what sae used to think too. before any of this happened. never in his life did he think he’d sooner rather sabotage his own career than lose you. it’s laughable, really, how much he’s so afraid of losing you that it clouds his judgement.
he should’ve been honest with you from the start instead of letting you find out on your own. it was that easy.
“could you step on it, please?” sae sighs, irritated at everything keeping him from you; the distance, the traffic, the stupidity.
the taxi driver narrows his gaze at sae through the rear view mirror, clearly annoyed. “i’d rather not get a ticket,” he replies monotonously, and sae sees that he’s driving at the speed limit. “wouldn’t want to get into an accident, would you?”
well, if he did, that would put a real hamper in his plans, so sae just shuts up and switches off his phone. none of them are you anyway. there’s no point.
as he stares out the window at the now-quiet city, he finds that, for the first time, he’s afraid of losing everything.
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mira [7.28pm]: make sure you get enough rest! bought some soup for you in case you haven’t eaten :)
you look at the time now—12.14am. fuck, did you really sleep the entire day away?
the sliver of moonlight that shines through your blinds is all you see next to the pitter patter of the heavy rain against your window. it’s pathetic, really, for you to take a day off just because of that argument (if you can really call it that) the night before. you couldn’t bring yourself to even watch his game like you’d promised him you always would, once upon a time.
something tells you that he should expect that, though. even without watching his game, you know they’d win. sae has always been magical like that, being the playmaker he is. you imagine he’s probably with his team now, celebrating the win. or are they asleep right now? you never could get used to the time difference. it’s too much of a headache.
aside from mira, you see a voicemail message in your inbox. from sae. it makes your heart skip a beat. are you even ready to hear him and whatever he has to say? it’s why you’d been avoiding him since yesterday—you’re afraid you’re just going to crumble and forgive and get taken advantage of. it threatens to spin the same old story you’ve always known.
you click on it anyway.
“look, i know i fucked up and it was stupid of me to keep it from you. i’m sorry, okay? and i know you don’t want to speak to me right now but i can’t just sit around and do nothing. i love you, so i’m coming back home, and we’ll talk, and then… i promise you, nothing like this will happen again.”
will it though? how much can you trust his words after he already failed once? it makes you think twice, no matter how badly you want to forgive him because you do believe him. it’s most likely nothing, and what he said is most likely true, but it makes you upset that he thought of hiding such a thing from you.
just as you toss your phone aside, you hear a series of urgent knocks on your door, the thunder ruthless outside. slowly, you get up, dragging your feet against the hardwood floors and flinching a little as you hear how loud the banging is. you’re half afraid and half agitated, halfway between hiding yourself under the covers and threatening to kill whoever it is outside.
but then you swing the door open and you’re met with that pair of teal eyes you’ve always loved, his bangs matted against his face as he pants, the rainwater drenching him from head to toe.
“y/n,” he calls out, as though it’s been ages since he last heard from you. it’s only been a day, but it’s enough to make sae feel as though it’s been forever.
you’re a little shocked, your brain trying to process every single question that comes to mind.
is that really him? why isn’t he in spain? if he played the game, the timeline doesn’t add up—how did he get here so fast? is this actually a dream? holy crap it feels so real, though? why isn’t he saying anything?
“s-sae?”
you’re not even sure if you said that out loud—you’re a little too shocked to make sense of anything right now. but the moment the corner of his lips tug upward, revealing that lopsided smile you love, you know it’s real.
he’s here.
“i… came to talk,” is all he can say. he’s tired from running up the stairs. apparently tonight, everything was against him. there was an accident right at the street before the corner of your apartment, so he’d had to end the trip early and start running for it. by the time he got here, the elevators for your block were all undergoing maintenance and unusable. but fuck if twenty flights of stairs are enough to make him turn away.
you’re blinking a lot, as if you find it unbelievable that he’s here in the first place, but you nod anyway and step aside to let him in, wet clothes and all.
“how was work today?”
it’s definitely not what he came here from spain to talk about but you entertain it anyway.
“didn’t go,” you tell him, a little coldly, but you think he deserves that much, at least. “how was the game?”
“don’t know, didn’t go.”
you two are similar that way.
“why not?”
“i had other important things to do.”
“you do? pray tell.”
it’s the first time sae’s hearing you like this and he’s sure now that he never wants to make you like this ever again—going against your nature.
it’s lame, and overused, and you deserve an essay for why he shouldn’t and wouldn’t ever do this again to you but it’s sae and he’s never sure what’s good in these situations so all he can manage to say is, “i’m so sorry.”
you cross your arms as the both of you stand in your dimly-lit living room, the storm raging on outside. it’s not like you don’t know that. that aside, you’re pretty sure he’s the most sorry he’s ever been. and if you were still the same naive girl you used to be ten years ago you probably would’ve forgiven him by now.
but you’re not.
“okay, is that all?”
it’s not what you really want to say. you kind of just want this to be a dream; that picture of him and that random girl with their lips locked, that fight that you had that made you cry to sleep. you wish it was some sort of stupid nightmare that didn’t make him ruin your trust but it did.
sae, on the other hand, seems restless. he’s taken aback, not quite sure how to get through to you because he’s never made a mistake like this before. “just- could you… forgive me?”
the ache you head in his voice breaks you, and you’re sure he can see the tears threatening to spill, but you stand with your choice. “can i? i don’t really know, to be honest,” you respond, voice soft and low, not quite daring to meet his eyes in case you falter.
the contrast between how you were and how you are kicks him in the gut and he has no one to blame but himself. he doesn’t want to, but he can sense where this is going. he’s not stupid, he just… doesn’t want to believe it.
“please… don’t do this?” sae swallows the lump in his throat, the foreign way his heartbeat quickens out of fear stumping him. there’s probably more he should say, but maybe that just wouldn’t be enough anymore. his words can’t find him and he can’t find it in himself to reach out to you. not when he realises you out of all people hate the most for having to do this.
if you just blindly follow your heart, you’d leap in his arms right now, fuck how soaked he is. because you still love him. you know that, and you think maybe he knows it too, but judging by the perplexed look on his face, he probably doesn’t realise it. that’s why your brain does the deciding for you. it had already made its choice the moment you saw that picture, the moment you saw the headlines on that gossip rag.
“i… think we should break up, sae.”
before today, if you’d told yourself that one day, you’d say these words, you wouldn’t believe it. but here you are, breaking up with the love of your life.
sae is just standing in front of you, staring at you, the happy picture of the two of you during your second year anniversary hanging on your wall haunting him this very second. the command he gave his assistant to help him get that ring for you sending him into the pits of despair. he’s so stunned he doesn’t know what to say or do.
“you’re… serious?”
there’s no expression in his eyes. they’re just dull, and dark, and nothing like how you’re used to.
this time, you’re the one trying to force the words out of your mouth, calmly, because you’re afraid that the tears will just spill out. “you’re… you’re the one who told me to be kinder to myself, right?”
sae chuckles softly, helplessly, as he realises you take every word he says to heart.
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EIGHT YEARS AGO
it was beyond him why you let yourself be subjected to this. nobody was a saint, but surely you deserved better than to be treated like trash?
sae understood a little of where you were coming from. it was hard to let go of a three-year relationship, but having you visit him crying in the middle of the night wasn’t exactly what he would condone.
“you can do better than him, you know that right?”
the words slipped out of his mouth before he knew it. he’d once sworn that he wouldn’t meddle in your relationship, that he’d let you figure it out on your own, but your heartaches were getting too often those days that sae just couldn’t hold it in anymore.
it probably wasn’t the best thing to say to you, considering how you were bawling your eyes out and staining his entire jersey with your tears, but sae was never one to filter his words.
“everyone says that.”
which tells sae you didn’t believe that.
“which means there’s some truth there,” he sighed, leaning back against the couch as you continued to bury your head in his chest. sae saw rin from the corner of the room, peaking out of the hallway and gave him a quick wave to signal him to leave them alone.
“i… don’t know what to do.”
you rarely ever did. having been your friend for the past four years before this taught sae two things: one, you gave your all for your relationship, and two, you were one of the kindest people he’s ever known. (and by extension, it simply meant you knew what had to be done, but you refused to do it.)
sae took a deep breath, eyes gazing up at the ceiling before he resumes, “i don’t know why you let people treat you like that.”
you stayed quiet, sniffling, though it’s getting softer now, so sae continues.
“you know, you’re one of the nicest people i know,” sae told you, fingers absentmindedly stroking your hair—the way he always wanted to but never let himself admit. “which is why it kinda sucks that you’re so stupid to let yourself be hurt by that asshole over and over again.”
the both of you chuckled at that. sae was glad to know you understood he meant only well.
“stop… letting people hurt you and then letting them get away like that, okay?” he said it softly, but you definitely caught it. “be kinder to yourself, fucks sake.”
he felt your fingers curl, gripping at his shirt as you stopped yourself from crying. you looked up at him that night, smiling as your tears dried, and sae remembered telling himself that he’d never want to be the reason you had to feel upset.
“when you say it like that, how can i say no?” you joked, laughing, wiping the last of your tears away. “besides, even if i was still being stupid, i’d always have you with me, right?”
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sae remembers.
he remembers not answering you, but he remembers thinking yes, always. and he has a feeling you knew back then too, that sae would always be there for you regardless.
only if it’s you.
maybe even back then, you already knew how he felt for you. and you would always listen to him. you’d always believe in him. now he feels even more stupid for everything that transpired. with his words thrown back at him, he finds himself speechless.
“you’re right,” he replies, voice hoarse, his gaze dropping to the floor. sae was being stupid, and he’s crazy if he thinks he’ll be let off that easy.
you’re sniffling a little, and he does you the courtesy of not looking at you even though you’re already turning away. “i’ll mail you your stuff.”
“it’s fine, i’ll get rin to help me take ‘em.”
it’s a diplomatic breakup. polite, nothing out of line, just two adults deciding that maybe now just isn’t the time.
after a long pause, sae gets the guts to speak. “you know you’re the only one for me, right?” because he feels like maybe you’d been doubting it recently and he doesn’t want you to feel worthless. maybe it has the adverse effect and maybe it’s selfish but he needs you to hear that.
you don’t acknowledge it, and you barely acknowledge him, even as he turns to walk out the door. this time, you’re the one not giving the answer, but sae feels like he knows how you feel anyway. you need time away from him. a proper break from him. so sae leaves wordlessly, clinging on to hope that maybe one day, he’ll be deserving of you again.
the moment sae closes the door, you fall to the floor, wailing into your cushion pillow, having one of the worst nights of your life.
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THE NEXT WEEK
annoying jr [10.48am]: oi stupid, i’m here.
—followed by an incessant ringing of your doorbell.
when you groan and swing the front door open, you’re greeted by a smirking rin. at least he hasn’t changed one bit since you’d known him when he was a kid. well, at least not to you.
“did you have to ring it so obnoxiously?” you whine, plopping down on your couch, burying your head in the leather seats.
rin shuts the door behind him, scoffing. “you’re the one who always used to wake up late,” he quips, rolling his eyes (you don’t have to see it, you just know how he’s going to react).
“and someone was always the third party on dates,” you snap back, sticking your tongue out at him.
he deadpans, clicking his tongue in annoyance. “hey, wasn’t my fault my stupid brother kept using me as an excuse to go out.”
right, because back then his parents were a lot more strict than they are now, back before they didn’t know you.
realising that the mood had grown a little somber, rin clears his throat, changing the subject. “how’s work so far?”
you chuckle under your breath, finding it funny how both the brothers’ go-to question is to ask about your work. though, they’ve never been that good in conversations so you can’t blame them.
“it’s fine, promotion period’s coming up so i’m preparing for that,” you respond lacklustrely, getting up off the couch, dragging your feet to your bedroom before resurfacing just ten seconds later, carrying a box full of sae’s things.
it’s full of his clothes, care products and the like, but mostly clothes, because you’d realised you liked to steal his jerseys, wear them like they’re your own, but mostly because they smell like him, remind you of him when he’s not physically around and makes you feel better.
doesn’t make you feel good when you have to pack them up, though. you cried all the way again. pathetically. but rin doesn’t have to know, so you keep up your unbothered facade.
rin takes the box from you, thankfully not mentioning his brother. “hope you get that promotion then,” he says politely, though you sense he might have something else to say that he doesn’t know if he should.
you sigh, because sometimes rin looks like a neglected younger brother and you don’t have the heart to ignore him like sae does sometimes. “go ahead, say what’s on your mind.”
it takes just a moment of hesitation before rin heeds your words. “did you see sae’s interview last night?”
part of you doesn’t want to think about anything related to sae, but most of you still misses him, so it’s a canon event that you still look out for any and every news of him. it’s sad and pathetic and that’s why you make extra care not to mention any of that to anyone.
“nope, was it about their recent win?”
you try to go on as per normal, like sae isn’t just the love of your life that you still wanted.
“mhm.” rin, at least, doesn’t tease you about it. whether he means to or not, you’re grateful for that. “they asked him, though. about that game.” (but of course, you knew that already.)
ah, that game. the game that he abandoned to come find you. the game that led up to your breakup. the game that sae probably had to pay dearly for for knowingly ditching.
“oh, i see. what about it?”
a resigned sigh leaves rin’s lips as he looks at you with the full sincerity of a younger brother concerned with his older brother’s fuckup. “he… really loves you, you know? he’s just… stupid.”
you snort at his last remark, both of you breaking out into a small laughter. it’s bittersweet, thinking about how this might be the last time you see rin, but you’ll probably get over it. you’ll get over this, and sae, and move on someday—now if only you could get yourself to want that.
“i know,” you mutter quietly, deciding that it’s best not to speak too much about it. it’s dumb, considering everything that happened, but his words made you feel relieved, even if just for a second.
just before he leaves, you give him one last hug. “thanks, rin.”
THREE MONTHS LATER
“please don’t give me another heart attack like last time.”
sae huffs, annoyed, although he knows he probably deserves that. his poor assistant went through hell trying to appease everyone on the team due to sae’s last stunt. luckily, there are exceptions made for the best soccer player on the team, so no punishment was dire enough that he had to get kicked.
“i’m just going out for some air.” sae leaves before his assistant can get any words out, entirely too tired today to listen to anything anyone else has to say.
besides, today is a special day.
the moment he’s out of earshot, he calls one of the only contacts on his phone. for some reason, his heart is thumping wildly and his fingers are fiddling with the hem of his windbreaker. the weather is nearing negatives but somehow, he doesn’t feel it.
“hello?”
sae nearly gets a heart attack of his own when a deep, low voice is what he hears, until he realises that he recognises it.
“rin, what’re you doing there?”
he can make out the sadistic chuckle from halfway across the world. “what, disappointed?” (if sae could punch him right now he would.) “relax, we’re just at her birthday dinner and she’s busy,” he explains, though sae doesn’t nearly care about any of that other than the fact that he wants to talk to you.
“where’s y/n?”
“she’s the birthday girl, people are lining up just to take pictures with her,” rin raises his voice over the background, and sae’s never been more frustrated. “she’s taking pics with some handsome guy right now, and he’s got his hands around her waist,” rin whistles right after, and sae can just sense his smugness through the phone.
whether what his brother said was true or not, sae is in no position to be jealous anyway. (even though he is and he’s sporting an unamused frown that’s enough to scare the living daylights out of anyone watching him.)
“wish her happy birthday for me then.”
rin snorts. “sure. disappointed you didn’t get to hear her—” sae hangs up before he can be subjected to anymore of his brother’s nonsense. all he really wanted was to just hear your voice, but he won’t be greedy.
staying friends was already a miracle. that’s only possible because you have a heart of gold, and he knows that if he ever pushes it too much, he might just risk losing you forever and he knows he can’t have that. so for now, this’ll do.
he’ll wait, no matter how long he has to.
later that night, when the moon is high up in spain, sae receives a notification from you. there, attached in your thread is an audio message.
“itoshi sae… thank you.”
the little laugh you leave at the end is enough to make him smile at his phone. he counts his blessings for you, and starts counting down to the days he has left in spain. if he wants you, he needs to go all in.
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ONE YEAR LATER
“you ready yet? i’m at your lobby.”
sae can just barely make out your panicked state from the other line. you’re late, and you know he’s fine with waiting, but because you’re a perfectionist, you really really don’t want him to have to.
“yeah, just gimme like, five minutes!” which sae knows translates to i actually need twenty but i’ll rush. there’s a certain satisfaction it gives him—knowing that he knows you in these ways that nobody else can.
“take your time, i have to pump some gas anyway, running low,” he tells you, an excuse which you accept right away because it’s convenient.
sae doesn’t even need any gas. it’s full, so he parks his car by the entrance and waits inside, turning up the air conditioning because he knows you’ll be sweating a little by the time you inevitably still choose to rush down.
it’s exactly one year since the last time he wished you happy birthday (through rin). and this year, he’s happy enough he gets to actually take you out. the past year’s been filled of sae restarting the relationship from ground zero—back to being friends and gradually coming back again to where you are now, dating. sure, it’s taxing having to do it all over again, but he’d do this however many times you want him to.
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SIX MONTHS AGO
“hmmm, i dunno how to feel, i kinda like this.”
sae had been calling you up often, and he feels good inside knowing that you might miss him as much as he misses you.
“kinda like what?” he asked, wishing that he could see your expression right now.
“kinda like you chasing me all over again,” you giggled, shameless with your words. “what if i just never agree to be your girlfriend again? what if i just make you chase after me forever?”
he knew for a fact that you weren’t that sadistic, but even so, his answer would still be the same. “then i’ll stick in this phase with you. forever.” although that would render the ring that he bought for you useless.
“oh really?”
sae hummed in faux contemplation. “nah, maybe not. maybe i’ll just ditch you and run off with ryusei or something.”
he got a laugh out of you for that.
“ryusei? not even some other girl, but ryusei?”
sae chuckled—he still remembered his mistake. and he’d never put you in a position to feel that way again. even if you two were just joking around.
“y/n, there’s no one else except you.” he was rarely ever serious like this, especially considering how you bantered as friends, but sometimes, he knew he had to. nowadays, more than anything, he just wanted to know that you had no doubts about how he felt for you.
you didn’t give any response to that, but considering how you started to ease up around him even more after that, sae felt like maybe there was a solid hope there of reviving this after all.
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the knock on his window brings him back into the present, your pretty face doing wonders in lighting up his mood.
as you get into the passenger seat, sae steals a glance at you from head to toe—you’re so beautiful and so worth the wait and you’ll always be.
“so, where are you taking me today, mr itoshi sae?”
he leans back against his seat, tilting his head as he looks at you, feigning contemplation. “depends, ms l/n y/n, do you trust me?”
you press your lips into a line, the corners threatening to tug upwards. you’re so adorable that sae’s actually going to go insane but he dons a straight face like he always has because letting you know the power you have over him is more than you need to know.
“i think it’d be a little weird if i couldn’t trust my boyfriend.”
suddenly it’s like time stands still and sae’s hands are stuck on the steering wheel and he’s left staring into space wondering if he heard you right. boyfriend? he turns around to look at you, teal eyes searching your own for answers but all he sees is a smirk on your face—you definitely know the power you have over him.
“wow, want me that bad, huh?” you joke, giggling as you tell him to hit the gas. “i… wasn’t kidding though.”
and as he pulls out of the parking lot, he thinks about the little velvet box that sits in his jacket pocket, thinks about the fact that he’s one of the luckiest people in the world thanks to you. heat rises to his cheeks, and he has to look away from you.
“you know one day you’re still gonna be mrs itoshi, right?”
this time, you laugh—but not like you think it’s a joke, more like the kind where you think was there even any other option? and even then, you offer him assurance.
“there’s nothing i want more.”
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fairsexynasty · 24 days ago
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ˏ🔪ˋ°•*⁀➷・ GHOST MOUTH — chapter one: get out and get into heaven
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.。🗡️*⋆⍋*🃏*。 spencer reid x fem!reader
summary: a new inhabitant? tenant? roommate? you're still not sure how this works. but there's someone new living in your apartment: spencer reid. how is he going to react to a ghost?
warnings: humor, platonic fluff, angst, drug usage, addiction...
a/n: love a good female character who literally haunts the narrative... but it's your narrative... so are you living it...? but you're dead....? like and reblog if you enjoy and don't forget, requests are open!
word count: 4.2k
JUNE 23, 2005.
I don’t remember buying this apartment. Or decorating it. Or signing the lease, for that matter. But apparently, I lived here.
Now, I just haunt it.
It’s strange, being stuck in a place you’re supposed to know but don’t. Like waking up in someone else’s skin. The furniture’s vaguely familiar—like seeing an actor who played a minor role in a movie you liked once—but the memories aren’t there to fill in the gaps.
Rachel makes it easier. Most days, anyway. She’s perched on the couch tonight, wine glass in hand, a throw blanket draped over her like a cape. “Okay, so get this,” she says, her voice dipping conspiratorially. “He texts me every morning. Like, without fail. Good morning, good night—it’s adorable.”
I hover near the window, watching her face light up as she gushes about this guy, Theo. He’s the latest in a string of hopefuls, but this one seems different. Genuine. “You think he’s the real deal?” I ask, trying not to sound like I’m bracing for impact.
“I do.” Rachel practically glows. “He’s thoughtful. Funny. And he actually listens. Can you believe it?”
I can’t. Or maybe I don’t want to. If she finds her happily-ever-after, where does that leave me?
"So, yeah, he's great," Rachel was saying, voice warm and confident. She was curled up on the couch, her legs tucked under her as she swirled the wine in her glass. "I don't know, it's like I finally found someone who gets it, you know?"
I watched her, biting back the sharp tug of something—jealousy? Longing? Whatever it was, it gnawed at me, and I couldn’t ignore it. Rachel had started dating this guy recently. She'd told me about him a couple of times. Each time, I couldn't help but feel like... well, like I was losing her, in a way. I didn't want to admit it, even to myself, but the thought of her moving on without me—of her living a life I wouldn't be a part of—felt like it was breaking something inside of me.
I didn't say anything, of course. I never did. What was I supposed to say? The girl was talking about her future with some guy who was clearly making her happy, and here I was—dead, ghosting around her apartment, just... existing.
She didn't need me anymore. I couldn't tell her I was scared. I couldn't tell her I felt like I was slipping away, like the life I remembered was fading fast and I had nothing left to hold onto. Rachel had a future to live. I... I wasn't even sure what I was supposed to do with what little I had left.
I just kept my distance, lingering in the corner of the room, watching as she sighed and took another sip of her wine.
It wasn’t the worst thing, I told myself. It wasn’t like I had to keep reminding her I was here. It wasn’t like I had a purpose anymore. I had no idea why I couldn’t move on, no idea how I died or what my life had been before it all fell apart. The only thing that seemed real anymore was the fact that Rachel still let me be here, let me talk to her in the little ways I could.
And that, for now, would have to be enough.
“He’s got this dorky laugh, too,” she continues, oblivious. “It’s cute. Like, ugly-cute. You know what I mean?”
I nod, even though she’s not looking. I know exactly what she means. What I don’t know is what happens when this man goes from “guy she’s seeing” to something more permanent. Does she stop needing her wine-and-gossip buddy? Does she stop needing me?
I shake off the thought. It’s not fair to Rachel. She deserves a shot at happiness, with or without me haunting her living room.
Still, the idea twists in my chest like a knife.
She laughs at something on her phone and reaches for her wine. “Anyway, enough about me. How was your day?”
I give her my best deadpan. “Unproductive. Again. Shocker.”
Rachel grins. “You’ll figure it out eventually.”
Will I?
I glance at the TV, where the menu flickers with mindless options. Maybe I will. Or maybe I won’t. Either way, I’m here. Stuck. For as long as this world lets me be seen, I’ll keep showing up.
Because what else can I do?
NOVEMBER 27th, 2006
One could say that I was currently, extremely upset. But that would be an understatement. I was fucking pissed. What do you do when your favorite resident of your haunted apartment moves out? After three years of watching over her, getting to know her, and eventually making yourself known to her– how do you start over? How do you haunt someone new?
Rachel was the one thing that kept me busy. She gave me more than enough reason to wander out of the apartment and practice the ability to leave the building. I’m not agoraphobic, I’m just trapped. And dead.
I can’t say exactly why I can leave some days and am stuck the others. It takes a lot of energy from me, so much so that I can feel myself disappearing from Rachel’s sight. The overstimulating feelings stick themselves in my joints, leaving me rugged and lapsed energetically. I don’t know what it is. I can’t name it.
I can’t even tell you where the hell my body is or what happened to me. It sucks. Not knowing where you end up or how it happens after living a life where people come up with endless theories about it. You’d think that one of the many ideas has to be accurate, and you’ve either been living your life all right or wrong.  But I couldn’t tell you. I can’t make sense of it myself.
Rachel understood that. She spent her Sunday nights with me, cooking in the kitchen, playing my favorite songs I’d request, and sipping on her favorite bottle of Noir while I vented, told stories, or just rambled. I never had a best friend like her. Not while I was alive, that’s for sure.
Talking about myself in the past tense is another tricky part of being a ghost. Yes, I am dead, and I may not know where my corpse is or how I died, but I still exist. My soul is alive, so am I still a being? Is it “I am” or “I was”? We could look at it from a technical point of view. I currently offer no value to the world around me. I cannot contribute or benefit from my environment in any way possible unless you count Rachel. I cannot eat, sleep, or drink. I can still learn, I can experience, and I can feel. But I cannot disrupt the environment around me. So, by that knowledge, that makes me… still confused. I’m not smart enough to find a solution here. I took one ethics class in college, and even then, we only talked about poverty. I don’t understand quantum mechanics, and I believe in the supernatural. It doesn’t make me a credible source.
However, through all the (lack of) noise, I’ve discovered my new friend might be a credible source: Dr. Spencer Reid. It might take him a couple of months to see me, but for Rachel, it took me a year. But I have more faith in myself now.
My new friend is moving in today. November 27th, 2006, three years, seven months, and eleven days since this apartment was mine.
I can hear him coming up the stairs. A couple of mutters are in the background, so I assume he has people helping him move in. Great. More people to take up my space. I’ll probably find myself sitting on the kitchen counter the entire time while I psychotically stare at him. The doorknob wiggles and then clicks, a sign Spencer’s successfully used his key for the first time.
The door creaks open, and Spencer's voice filters in before his lanky figure even makes it through. “Okay, let’s just leave everything in the box until we bring the rest up, and then we can move the furni—oh.” He freezes mid-step, eyes locking onto mine. “Um… hello there.”
He looks like someone just handed him a live grenade and politely asked him to hold it. His friends? Oblivious. A gorgeous, sharp-eyed woman with dark hair and a towering, muscular man with rich brown skin saunter in behind him, oblivious to my presence.
“Who are you?” Spencer blurts.
I raise an eyebrow from my very cozy sprawl on the couch Rachel left behind—one leg draped dramatically over the plush velvet arm. “Oh, so you can see me,” I purr, enjoying his squirm. “How delightful.”
Spencer’s jaw works, but no sound escapes. Meanwhile, his friends exchange concerned looks like they’re debating calling a medic.
“Uh, Spence?” The woman—let’s call her Sexy Boss Barbie—tilts her head, her voice dripping with skepticism. “Who, exactly, are you talking to?”
Spencer points to me, his face a mix of confusion and terror. “Her!”
The man snorts, folding his arms like he’s humoring a toddler with an imaginary friend. “Kid, there’s no one there. Are you feeling okay? Dizzy? Dehydrated? Seeing, you know, stuff?”
“I’m fine! Are you okay? Do you not see the woman lounging on the couch?!” Spencer’s voice rises an octave, clearly distressed. “She’s waving!”
I sit up, slowly, brushing imaginary lint off my clothes. “Spencer, darling,” I say with a smirk, “they can’t see me. To them, you sound completely unhinged. Certifiable. Just batshit crazy.”
Sexy Boss Barbie’s eyes widen suddenly, as if the final piece of a years-long puzzle has just clicked into place. “Oh my god.” She claps a hand over her mouth. “It’s real. The rumors were true!”
“What rumors?” Spencer snaps, panic edging into his voice.
“The ghosts!” She throws her hands up, spinning to the muscular guy. “There’s been all this buzz about hauntings and poltergeists, and I heard they asked Fiona Caulins and her spooky little team to investigate. I thought it was a prank!”
The guy groans and pinches the bridge of his nose. “Prentiss, you’re telling me the FBI is officially ghost-hunting now? Do we get proton packs, or is that too much taxpayer money?”
Prentiss—because clearly she has a name now—waves dismissively at him and turns to me with the same enthusiasm as someone meeting a celebrity. “Hi, ghost! Please don’t murder my friend, he’s very nice, smart, and has a soft heart. Also, I’m too tired for a paranormal brawl.”
I narrow my eyes at Spencer, just to make him squirm a little more. “Oh, I’m definitely going to kill you.”
His gasp is chef’s kiss levels of comedic. “Please don’t say that. Please don’t say that.”
“Emily,” the guy warns, sounding like the parent of the world’s most reckless child.
Spencer waves a hand awkwardly at me, trying to keep his composure. “I’m just going to assume you’re joking. For my own sanity. Because being kind is important. Even if you’re, you know…” He gestures vaguely toward me. “…dead.”
The guy throws up his hands and makes a beeline for the door. “You know what, Pretty Boy? Nope. I’m out. I’ll grab the rest of your boxes, but I am not dealing with Casper’s pissed-off cousin.”
“I’m not haunting,” I clarify, even though his retreating footsteps suggest he doesn’t care.
Prentiss steps closer, her eyes sparkling with the kind of curiosity that spells trouble. “Maybe you’re stuck here,” she offers helpfully, gesturing to my general direction like she’s presenting an exhibit at a haunted museum. “Are you stuck here?”
I shrug. “No clue.”
“She doesn’t know,” Spencer parrots, clearly regretting his life choices.
“But I don’t mind it,” I add cheerfully.
“She doesn’t mind it,” Spencer echoes, his face a study in pure, resigned chaos.
By the time all of his belongings are finally moved in, I’ve become an unofficial connoisseur of Spencer’s panicked glances. Every other moment, our eyes meet, and he looks like someone just told him Santa Claus isn’t real—or, in this case, that ghosts are. He’s clearly grappling with the idea, the gears in his brain probably spinning so fast they might combust. I mean, he’s a doctor. A man of science, logic, and reason. Ghosts? That’s the kind of thing that could either utterly shatter his worldview or send him spiraling into some kind of quantum physics rabbit hole. Probably both.
Emily and Derek—whose names I picked up during their bickering about me (I’m already a hot topic, apparently)—finally call it a night as the sun dips below the horizon. There’s a brief exchange of goodbyes, Emily offering Spencer a quick “Call if you need me!” while Derek mutters something about sage and holy water under his breath.
Once the door clicks shut behind them, the apartment falls into an awkward quiet. Spencer stands there for a moment, staring at the closed door as if considering bolting out of it himself. Eventually, he turns, slowly, to find me perched on the kitchen counter, swinging my legs.
His mouth opens. Then closes. Then opens again. He’s clearly malfunctioning. “I, uh—”
I hold up a hand to stop him, smiling. “Let me make this easier for you. I’ll set some ground rules, okay?” His eyes widen, but I plow ahead. “First, I promise I won’t distract you unless you explicitly ask me to. Second, I’m not going to walk into the bathroom while you’re in there—because, seriously, why would I? Third, if you bring someone over—or if you’re already seeing someone—I’ll clear out and head downstairs. Lastly, I can leave this apartment, but leaving the building? That’s… a work in progress.”
Spencer blinks at me, stunned into silence. He doesn’t move for a beat, then nods. It’s the kind of nod you give when someone hands you a parachute and says, you’re jumping now.
I smile at him. “Feel better?”
He clears his throat, and it’s like he’s rebooting in real time. “Well, um… ghosts.” His tone shifts, slipping into what I suspect is his comfort zone: pure academic lecture mode. “The belief in ghosts is deeply rooted in human history, spanning cultures and civilizations for thousands of years. For example, the ancient Egyptians believed in the ka, the soul, which stayed connected to the body after death—hence, mummification. Similarly, in Greek mythology, spirits, or shades, resided in the underworld but could occasionally wander the mortal realm if disturbed.”
I blink at him, genuinely impressed. “Wow. That’s… actually fascinating. How do you know all that?”
He shrugs, like it’s no big deal. “I have an IQ of 187, an eidetic memory, and I can read up to 20,000 words per minute.”
I stare at him, deadpan. “Okay, that is harder to believe than me being a ghost.”
He sighs, his expression softening. “I’m sorry. I’ve been so wrapped up in… all of this, I never even asked your name.”
“It’s fine,” I say with a little laugh. “And for the record, it’s nice to… coexist with you. So, uh, are you the tenant of my home, or am I the tenant of yours?”
That earns me a small, tentative smile from him, the first real one I’ve seen. “How about we just say we’re roommates for now?”
I chuckle, hopping down from the counter. “Roomies it is, Spencer.”
“Cool.” He says it with a nod like he’s trying the word out for the first time, and it’s paired with a shy smile that feels surprisingly genuine. “Roomies.”
FEBRUARY 13, 2007
Being “roomies” with Spencer isn’t what I expected at all. I thought it'd be a relief when I found out about his job—hunting serial criminals with his team, including Derek and Emily. I wouldn’t have to worry about being a constant bother since he’d be out on cases, gone for days or weeks at a time. But what I didn’t anticipate was this hollow ache, this new kind of loneliness creeping in.
With Rachel, there was a rhythm to our days. A routine. Something grounding that kept me tethered to whatever semblance of stability a ghost can have. But Spencer? Spencer is chaos wrapped in quiet. He comes home with the weight of the world on his shoulders and disappears into his room, leaving me to drift through the empty spaces he leaves behind.
Sometimes, he’s so silent it unnerves me. He’ll come through the door after a long trip, his face drawn, and I’ll sit there, helpless, unsure if I should say something or just… vanish. What could I possibly do to help? I don’t know him well enough to give him meaningful advice. I can’t offer something as simple as a hug or even a reassuring hand on his shoulder.
But I watch him. I’ve learned his habits. The way he quietly checks on me as if I’m a lost pet instead of the spectral figure on his couch. The nights when he’s too tired to make it to bed, passing out on the couch instead. I’ll sit near him for a bit, just in case he wakes up from a nightmare. Watching over him makes me feel… useful, even if I can’t do much.
One night, I finally could.
It was after a case in Georgia. The night before he left, he’d been out drinking with his team, laughing and light in a way I hadn’t seen before. When he returned to grab his go-bag, there was a slight buzz to him—a looseness in his step and a rare smile. But he was gone within minutes, off to chase the darkness again.
When he came back a week later, he wasn’t the same.
The moment he walked through the door, I knew something was wrong. His hair was a mess, sticking out in every direction like he’d been clawing at it. Sweat beaded on his brow despite the cool air. His hands trembled as he locked the door—so slight, anyone else might’ve missed it. But I noticed.
“Hi,” I offered softly from the couch, not bothering with the usual pleasantries like How was the case? That felt pointless—or worse, like it might set him off.
He glanced at me briefly before his eyes darted away. “Hey,” he mumbled, his voice distant, hollow. He crossed the room to his bedroom door, hesitated for a moment, then added, “I’m going to bed.” And just like that, he was gone. He didn’t even bother turning on the light for anything.
At around three in the morning, I heard it. Muffled groans that turned into sharp cries, then full-throated shouts. It was a raw, guttural sound that sent shivers down my spine. I rushed into his room, instinct taking over.
“Spencer!” I called, shaking his arm as gently as I could. My fingers brushed against his sweat-drenched skin, and I held on tighter, desperate to pull him out of whatever hell he was trapped in.
He woke with a gasp, his eyes wide and wild. For a moment, he didn’t even seem to see me. Then his gaze focused, softening just slightly. But then he noticed my hands on his arms and recoiled, shaking me off like I burned him.
“Why are you touching me?” he demanded, his voice sharp and panicked. “How are you touching me?”
I blinked, just as shocked as he was. “I—I’m not sure. But you were having a nightmare, and I just… I wanted to help.”
His expression hardened. “I didn’t need help. I would’ve woken up and assessed my situation on my own.” He sat up straighter, his tone clipped. “You can go now.”
I pinched the bridge of my nose, frustration bubbling beneath my skin. “No. Spencer, what happened to you? You were hurt, weren’t you?”
His laugh was bitter, cold. “I just left hell. I’m not interested in taking a guided tour back.”
I wasn’t stupid. I’d seen this before—the trembling hands, the sheen of sweat, the distant, unfocused gaze. I’d been around enough parties, enough people experimenting with everything from weed to molly to coke, to recognize the signs.
“What were you given?” I asked, my voice firm.
His jaw tightened. “Basically drugstore heroin,” he muttered, rubbing his temples.
He’s addicted. Probably became dependent on it during the entire situation, which means he had to have been administered it regularly, given the shit that gets you hooked after just one time. There was no way he hadn’t went out and got more. That was a craving that he hadn’t killed yet. Couldn’t kill. Not on his own. I sighed, my heart sinking. “Where’s the rest of it?”
“I’m not telling you,” he snapped, glaring at me.
I rolled my eyes. “Spencer, I think I can touch things now, sort of. I’ll find it if I have to.”
His shoulders sagged, and for a moment, he looked utterly defeated. “I need it,” he whispered.
His confession hit me harder than I expected. “Why?”
“Because he was right,” Spencer said, his voice trembling. “It makes everything quiet. And for someone like me, a little silence is…” He trailed off, his gaze distant. “It’s more than appreciated.”
I bit my lip, fighting the urge to tell him what he should do, why drugs are bad, and why addiction kills. “Okay. I get it. But it’s not an excuse.” I paused, searching his face. “It’s in the safe, isn’t it?”
His silence was all the confirmation I needed.
JUNE 28, 2008
Dark as it may have been, Spencer’s struggle had given me something I hadn’t felt in years—a purpose. That first night, there was fighting, crying, and, strangely enough, an ice cube or two. It was chaotic and raw, but it gave me something to hold onto. The following week was the same—a tense repetition of stubborn refusals and quiet breakdowns. But the week after? That’s when I noticed changes—not just in him, but in me.
I discovered I could interact with the physical world in ways I hadn’t been able to before. I could cook, organize, and even leave the apartment… well, sort of. My first attempt ended with me walking face-first into an invisible wall about twenty feet from the building’s exits. Still, it was progress. It was proof I wasn’t entirely stuck.
A year later, Spencer doesn’t like to talk about that time. To him, it’s a chapter better left in the past—something he’s learned from, something that shaped him, but not a story he’s eager to tell. His team knows, though. Hotch and Morgan make sure the hospital staff know not to administer narcotics if he’s ever injured. It’s a silent understanding among them, a protective measure born from experience.
When it does come up, Spencer is quick to deflect. If someone brings it up, he’ll steer the conversation into safer, stranger territory. Like the first time Penelope Garcia accidentally mentioned it. Without missing a beat, Spencer quipped, “Yes, but want to know something crazier? I’m roommates with a ghost.”
And that’s how Penelope Garcia ended up in our apartment.
The moment she stepped inside, I knew this wasn’t going to be a normal visit. Penelope was an explosion of energy and curiosity, her eyes immediately darting around the apartment, taking in every detail. And there was a lot to take in.
The space had evolved since Spencer first moved in. Back then, it was sparse, bachelor-esque—a couch, a coffee table, and not much else. But throughout the year, I’d filled it with touches of personality. A corner plant stand I’d built during one of Spencer’s longer cases A display shelf for mugs that had started as a simple project but quickly became a labor of love. And my favorite addition—a gallery wall anchored by a soft loveseat I’d claimed as my corner. I had to beg him to buy all the wood from Home Depot, a place I knew he had no interest of ever visiting. But the apartment had character now, a warmth that said: Someone lives here. And maybe someone else… doesn’t.
Penelope was enchanted. “Oh my God, look at this place! Spencer, this is so gorgeous! How could you even live here? You’re such a little nerd.”
Spencer rolled his eyes as he took her coat and hung it on the rack by the door. “It’s a long story,” he muttered.
It was then that I stepped into the living room, my footsteps light but enough to draw her attention. Penelope’s head whipped around, her eyes widening as she spotted me.
“Oh!” she exclaimed, her voice a mix of surprise and awe. “You’re beautiful!”
I blinked in shock. “Wait—you can see me already?”
She tilted her head, her bright eyes sparkling with curiosity. “Oh, are you not usually visible to the mortal eye? Is this like a Beetlejuice thing, where only the chosen one can see you?”
I shook my head, still trying to process. “Not exactly. Spencer could see me right away, but Emily and Derek couldn’t. How… how can you?”
Penelope tapped her chin, thinking for a moment before a mischievous smile spread across her face. “I must be special,” she said with a playful shrug.
Spencer groaned from behind her. “Oh no. Don’t feed into this.”
Penelope grinned, spinning to face him. “Feed into what? Spencer, you’re living with a ghost, and not just any ghost—a gorgeous, articulate ghost! I demand details. Right now.”
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greg-montgomery · 2 years ago
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Please just the team telling r about HOW MUCH OF A SOFT SPOT AARON HAS FOR THEM like god he’s literally such a grouch to Morgan and prentiss but he kisses the ground you walk on and they’re like BESTIE GET A GRIP HES WRAPPED AROJND YOUR FINGER bc reader is convinced he doesn’t share their feelings and he’s just being polite </3
♡ ♡ ♡ ♡
“Guys, please stop. You’re giving me false hope,” you sighed, dropping your hands on your lap. “I know you’re only trying to make me feel better, but honestly this is making me feel worse.”
“False hope? Sweetheart, the man is in love with you,” Derek said.
“No, he’s not.” You pouted.
You regretted ever telling your friends about your crush on Hotch. What you expected was them making fun of you for it. What you got were daily lectures on how your boss had the hots for you.
“He makes you coffee every single morning,” Emily pointed out.
“He’s just being polite!” you argued.
“We arrive here at the same time every day and he has never made one for me.”
“I’m sure there’s an explanation for this,” you said. “Maybe he thinks you won’t like it the way he makes it. But he knows I do, so that’s why he only does it for me.”
“Okay…” Derek spoke again. His eyebrow was raised, showing he had a very good point to add. “What about when you got hurt last week? It was only a scratch on your cheek but Hotch was ready to drive you to a hospital.”
“Now you’re exaggerating!”
“I saw him cupping your cheeks, it’s true!” Emily exclaimed.
“I also saw that,” Spencer, who had just been observing the conversation, added.
“You too, Spence?”
“Sorry.” He lifted his hands up in defense. “I’m only pointing out what I saw.”
You crossed your arms against your chest. There was no way you’d let them get to you. If you let your heart believe that Aaron had feelings for you then it would break even harder. “He’s like this with all of us.”
Emily moved close to you and took your hand in hers. “No, he’s not,” she said with a smile. “How can you not see it? He looks at you like you’re his sun and stars.”
“We could have an experiment,” Spencer suggested.
“What kind of experiment?”
“Emily got yelled at yesterday for making a mistake during paperwork,” he explained. “I can see you’re preparing a similar report today so you could make on purpose the same mistake as her. Let’s see if he reacts the same way when he sees it. If he yells at you too then that means he treats you the same way he treats all of us. If he doesn’t…then you’re his soft spot.”
“Fine,” you agreed. “Only so you can all finally stop torturing me with this.”
A few hours later, your report was on Hotch’s desk.
“Y/N?”
You heard your name in that warm voice of his and lifted your head to look at him. He was standing at his office door with a smile, certainly not looking like a man about to start yelling.
“Can you please come to my office for a moment?”
“Of course.”
Walking up the stairs to his office, you could feel the stares of your colleagues. Time to prove them wrong, you thought. Even though, you were secretly praying for the opposite.
“What do you need me for?” you acted naive.
“I was just looking at your report,” he said, sitting down on his chair. “And-”
“Oh no, did I make a mistake?”
“No, it’s nothing important!” he rushed to reassure you. “It’s just some little thing. I only wanted to show you so you know the correct way to do it from now on.”
There was a sweet smile on his face. His voice was soft and not at all angry.
“Come on, let me show you.”
It didn’t feel scary to go close to him. So you did.
It was a bit hard to pay attention to him explaining your mistake, since you were staring at his fingers brushing the paper in front of you. It didn’t matter anyway, your mistake wasn’t an accident at all.
“Okay?” he asked when he was done.
“Okay. I’m really sorry, Hotch,” you said, giving him your best puppy eyes. If you were gonna do this experiment, you were gonna do it right. “I’ll be more careful from now on.”
“Why don’t you come to my office next time you prepare a report like this one? We can do it together, hm?”
“But you’re so busy, I don’t wanna slow you down,” you argued, your heart beating faster and faster as you realized that Aaron wasn’t angry at all with you.
“Nonsense. We’re doing it together next time.”
“Okay,” you said. “Thank you, Hotch.”
Just before you arrived at the door, you heard him calling your name. “Oh and Y/N?”
“Yeah?” you responded, looking back at him.
“The team is right.”
“Right on what?”
He smirked and dropped his gaze back to his papers. “You know what.”
You turned around to exit his office with a huge grin on your face. Sometimes it feels better when you lose.
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warblogs17282 · 1 month ago
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So someone just pointed out something about Vassago in Mastermind, and now I want to provide you all with another reason why I want Vassago and Blitz to be friends at some point during the show, they both really have the potential to be revolutionary buddies or something like that.
Sure we haven't seen all that much of Vassago yet, but he has some really good characteristics in him regarding this subject that I hope the show explores more.
Like let's start with this, Vassago is the only one present within the trial to question the trial, asking the real questions like, 'yea, why the hell is Stolas not present at a trial like this anyways?'
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Also, pay attention to all of the sins and other Goetic demons during Satan's part of the song, they're all harmonizing with him, with even the other sins being the chorus when Satan says that 'he is the law.', but notice who doesn't take a part in Satan's shit, that's right, Vassago.
Vassago is the only one who was questioning the trial, Vassago is the only one to not join in with Satan's song, even when he's expressing his authority, Vassago knows there's something horribly wrong with the trial, and therefore, refused to take part in Satan's song entirely.
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Vassago was quite literally the only demon royalty/sin in the room to not stand behind Satan.
So what if their individual actions would've changed nothing anyways? That's not the point at all, the point is that Vassago stuck to his morals by refusing the take part in the song, while everyone else, including Asmodeus, took part in the song, I'm sorry, but them doing that was an act of them upholding the abuse and corruption that clearly comes off Satan.
Vassago stuck to his morals and did the right thing, which is why I believe he could be a really valuable ally/friend if a revolution ever happens, which considering Satan is literally saying shit like 'I created imps to be obedient.', I hope a revolution happens.
Again, we need to see more of Vassago's character, but as of right now? He damn well has the potential to be a revolutionary type at some point, he's not like the other Goetic demons who stand behind corruption and abuse, as this episode very clearly demonstrates.
And well, surely I don't need to explain why Blitz is a revolutionary type with these examples, right?
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I've already mentioned a few reasons why I think Vassago and Blitz could be friends, and this is yet another reason why I want them to become friends at some point.
Plus, this episode really makes me hope there's a revolution coming at some point during the show, that the show has it's 'long live the revolution' moment at some point.
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