Tumgik
#and I about had a breakdown later because the answer is no
Text
Unknown, Ep 10: Qian and Yuan
I’ve had a few people ask if I was going to do a breakdown post for the final scene between Qian and Yuan. Admittedly, I was not planning on doing so, but I like the attention 😈 so I will! 
Last we left off, Qian and San Pang were having a very difficult conversation, San Pang forced Qian to think about the future and was kicked out as a result. 
We start with a moment with each character to themselves. Qian closes the door behind San Pang and we see him hand at the door for a second, head hung in a way that feels very tired. He walks away from the door back to the couch to grab his glasses and wrap up the evening, when the camera cuts to Yuan sitting on the staircase, just out of sight of Qian. 
Tumblr media Tumblr media
We see Yuan look up at the ceiling, take a deep breath, and then slowly move his eyes back to center. He is processing everything that he just heard from San Pang and Qian. Yuan is trying to keep himself composed here, he knows that Qian will be heading up the stairs eventually and so he stays seated because he wants Qian to know that he heard everything. Because Yuan is fucking mad. 
Tumblr media
Qian heads up the stairs and we get, what could not be a more perfect little deer in headlights look from Qian as he processes that Yuan has heard everything. And I do love what this show does in how it portrays its characters because Yuan is still Qian’s little brother, and his face in the camera looks like that of an upset little kid. “Xiao Yuan,” Qian says as Yuan stands up and rushes down the stairs. In such a quick moment, Chris rolls his eyes, looks up, and then down like Qian is annoyed at Yuan’s behavior while knowing that he is absolutely going to have to be the one to handle it. 
Tumblr media
Yuan brushes past him, but Qian immediately turns and follows after him, calls after him, tells him to wait. But Yuan keeps walking. Where he’s going? I have no fucking clue, but it is clear that Qian’s words aren’t going to cut it. Yuan has heard everything that Qian told San Pang. He’s heard about Qian’s wish for their happiness, he’s heard San Pang tell Qian that they love each other, that they have tried everything to make them not love each other, and what he hasn’t heard is an answer to San Pang’s question: 
“Do you want him to have a future without you?”
I don’t know exactly what (if any) part of the conversation acted as the tipping point for Yuan, but he has been pissed the entire episode about Qian hiding his medical stuff from him. So I can imagine that not hearing an answer from Qian about wanting to be in Yuan’s future might serve as a last straw kind of deal. 
Tumblr media
And it marks a very important change in Qian that he runs after Yuan this time, that he physically puts himself in front of Yuan to stop him. Because he doesn’t want Yuan to go somewhere to cool off the way he did during Yuan’s first confession four years prior. He doesn’t want to just wait it out. He actually wants to talk to Yuan about where his head is at. That is huge progress from Mr. Hit First Talk Later. 
“Ge.” Yuan says, and then lets out a very big breath, like he’s trying to temper his feelings, but the frustration still bleeds out of him “It was never your fault,” 
Ah, here we go. What set Yuan off is Qian talking with San Pang about the Russian Roulette, reading between the lines there and understanding that Qian is scared of giving in to his feelings for Yuan because he blames himself for how deeply, how steadfastly Yuan loves him. Yuan is willing to die for him, and Qian has never had that before. He’s scared of giving in to his feelings for Yuan because he is scared of losing Yuan, and he is scared that Yuan’s love for him means Yuan will be lost because of him. 
Tumblr media
“It was never your fault,” Yuan said and he put his hands on Qian’s shoulders. 
Tumblr media Tumblr media
I do not even know how to describe the look Qian gives Yuan when he heard those words, nor can I really tell you what emotion(s) Qian is feeling in that moment, but I can tell you that I am obsessed with that look on his face. It’s like his breath catches in his throat and there is an ambiguity there, just like there was a bit of ambiguity in the head nod he gave San Pang, because he’s out of breath from running after Yuan, but there is also this chance that the pause in his breathing there is because of what Yuan said. Anyway: 
“Even though I know that in the end you might not want all that I’ve given-” 
Tumblr media
Yuan says, while Qian looks down in the direction of his shoulders, where Yuan’s hands were just a moment ago. They made excellent casting choices here, I actually think for this scene it is really important that Kurt is taller than Chris, because it adds some extra power to Yuan’s position for me here. The way Yuan looks down at Qian makes him seem even more pissed off about the entire situation, almost like he’s belittling Qian. He wants to dig a knife in here, and he’s being successful at it
“Hearing it first hand still hurts a little,” 
And we are back in our original confession dynamic. Qian is not looking at Yuan, Yuan refuses to look away from Qian. Qian looks kind of out of it, I would say he is dissociating a little bit, but I actually think what is happening here is that Qian is getting hit with the full force of Yuan’s words. I think he is absorbing and processing everything that is being said and understanding how not making a decision is hurting Yuan. Mostly because of how quick his reaction time is to trying to stop Yuan from walking away immediately after he says it hurts. 
“I’ll be fine. I just need some time.” Yuan says, and I do think he means it. I think when Yuan came back from the States he had reached a point where he could live without Qian changing their relationship status, even if he didn’t want to. 
But as Yuan tries to walk away, Qian stops him.
Tumblr media
“I didn’t mean it that way,” look at him using his words!  Qian looks so fucking exhausted when he does. The world has weighed heavy on him for so long, he’s been fighting an internal battle with himself about his feelings for Yuan for ages. It’s a lot, and the way Chris holds Qian here makes it feel like a lot. But, Yuan finally settles, because Qian is willing to engage in conversation. He is trying to clarify a misunderstanding, he is not outright rejecting Yuan here, he is not running away from talking about his feelings for Yuan. And so Yuan can stay, because there is some hope left there for him to hold on to. 
Tumblr media Tumblr media
He releases another huge breath, he stretches for just a second, grounding himself. He looks back at Qian “Then what do you mean?” 
Qian stares in to the void, then rolls his eyes upwards, closes his eyes, and sighs. Chris shakes his head a little, like Qian is giving up. Because he is giving up. Because Qian is about to say the words. He is about to admit that his feelings for Yuan aren’t clear cut. Yuan looks away from  Qian in this moment, where Qian is getting himself together. 
Tumblr media Tumblr media
gifs by @wanderlust-in-my-soul
“I can’t really figure out if it is love or something else that my feelings for you are.” And at the end of this, he isn’t running from the words anymore, because he looks at Yuan and Yuan is looking back at him. When Yuan first admitted his feelings, his suffering caused Qian to avoid eye contact. When Yuan returned, Qian couldn’t stop looking at Yuan. When listening to Yuan once again speak to his feelings and tell Qian he was hurting, Qian started in his comfort zone, in the old habits of looking away. But when he is actually admitting his feelings to Yuan, he does turn to look him in the eye. He isn’t avoiding it anymore. 
“Is it the love of a brother? Can we really turn it into romantic love? I don’t know.” Qian is finally having the conversation he has needed to have with Yuan. This is confusing, how do you separate your feelings out? How do you know? What happens if things don’t go well? How much are you set to lose if things devolve?” 
Yuan is capable of holding, understanding, and pushing that nuance, we’ve seen him do it before at the river. “This thing between us, is it because you don’t want or you don’t dare?” 
“Yes.” Qian says “All I know is I can’t live without you.” 
Tumblr media
Yuan has seen that, San Pang and Lili have seen that, we have seen that. Qian wants to be careful with how he proceeds along this path, and he is right to do so. Because it is hard to determine, when you have known someone so long, when you have raised them, when you have seen them as a brother, when you have not had love outside of the family before, when that love has existed the entire time, and has been different the entire time, and how do you recognize that when you are in it? 
There is a pause. 
“Four years later, you came back.”
There is another pause. 
I love these pauses. I love Qian putting space between these thoughts, whether he is scrambling internally for what to say, or whether he is hesitant to voice them, I do not know. I just know that I love love love when directors allow for breathing room. 
“I saw your letter of last words.” 
Tumblr media
Qian stops looking at Yuan here. Another little pause. 
“That’s when I started to feel scared.” 
Tumblr media Tumblr media
The camera cuts to a wide shot, where both Qian and Yuan are visible. And we can see Yuan reacting to what Qian is saying. Yuan also is not making eye contact, he is fidgeting a little. But he is listening intently to Qian’s words. The blocking of this shot is interesting to me too, because the way that Chris is standing has Qian facing Yuan, but we don’t see enough of Chris’ eyes here, so while it looks like Qian is looking at Yuan, that is not necessarily the case. We have seen him look away multiple times and his head barely moves. 
Qian is talking in to the void, and Yuan is picking up the signal. Another pause, and right before Qian continues talking, Yuan turns to look at him with this look of surprise on his face. His mouth is slightly agape, his eyes look soft staring at Qian.
 “I’m terrified,” Qian says. “What if you had no chance to come back? I don’t know what I would do.” 
Yuan looks at Qian, looks away, looks up like he is trying to decide how to feel. What type of treatment he should be giving to Qian at this moment. Should he be bitter, should he be harsh, should he be soft? 
Tumblr media
“Wei Qian.” Yuan says 
AND I WILL ONCE AGAIN SHAKE MY FIST AT THE SUBTITLES FOR TRANSLATING GE AS QIAN BECAUSE IT SO SEVERELY CUTS THE IMPORTANCE OF MOMENTS LIKE THIS ONE. 
Qian cannot figure out his feelings! He can’t figure out if he loves Yuan like a brother or something more! So Yuan cuts the brother out of it. He calls Qian by his name. He calls him Wei Qian, he puts the separation up for Qian. Is this the love of a brother? That’s an easier question to answer when you aren’t being called ‘brother’. How do you feel when you aren’t being reminded of your connection? 
I do not have the ability to describe the way Kurt’s mouth moves here, but I love the expression he gives Yuan as he finishes saying Wei Qian. He’s clearly going for a soft approach. Qian’s mouth, which hangs open just slightly, closes shut. 
“I’ve told you. I can sum up my life in two words: Wei Qian.” A smile starts to creep up his face. That’s love, bitch! Yuan was pissed, but now that Qian has stopped him, not that Qian has voices his hesitations, now that Qian has admitted that he can’t live without Yuan, even if he doesn’t know what his feelings for Yuan are, the love Yuan has for Qian melts the anger and lets the love bleed through. “But I’m not making you take responsibility for me.” 
Tumblr media
This is a very important character trait of Yuan’s. One of the first things we saw of teenage Yuan was him grabbing one of the household bills. Yuan has been working side hustles while in school. He’s been helping pay the bills. He’s been as helpful as he possibly can be at all times, because this was a home he was given, not a home he was born in to. 
Tumblr media Tumblr media
GOD DAMMIT CHRIS IS SO GOOD. ALL HE DID WAS MOVE HIS EYEBALLS LIKE…TWO CENTIMETERS AND THAT WAS ENOUGH TO KILL ME. 
Yuan is saying all the things that Qian needs to hear. Yuan can sum his life up with Qian, Qian fed him, Qian kept him warm, Qian gave him a home, Qian gave him love. Qian has seen Yuan as his responsibility since they were kids, but Yuan has wanted nothing but to be a support system for Qian. I said it before, that Yuan is the only person who continuously helps Qian to whom Qian is not beholden. Qian owes San Pang and his family, Qian owes Le and the gang, Qian owes Xiong. Qian does not owe Yuan. Qian does not see Yuan as someone that owes him. 
That small little eye motion are some gears clicking in to place in Qian’s head. That small little eye motion is Qian well and truly listening to what Yuan is saying. 
And here comes the parallel: 
Tumblr media
gif by @wanderlust-in-my-soul
“Did you come after me because you feel guilty, or because you care?” (this thing between us, is it because you don’t want or you don’t dare?) 
A genuine question that Yuan is using to try to push Qian in to allowing himself finally see his feelings through to the end. Qian is standing here before Yuan telling him that he does not know what his feelings for Yuan are. Even though those In The Know (Yuan and San Pang) can see the truth in Qian clear as day, Qian himself has not admitted it. 
So Yuan gives him a test.
Qian pauses for a moment, starts to shake his head, blinks. 
Tumblr media
gif by @wanderlust-in-my-soul
“I really don’t know,” he says 
Qian has failed the test. 
Yuan’s soft smile has a hint of sadness in it now. 
“You don’t need to know.” Yuan leans back against the wall, looking up at the sky. Qian is looking straight ahead, once again not making eye contact with Yuan “It’s always been my problem. Going home with you.”
Tumblr media
gif by @wanderlust-in-my-soul
The weight of what Yuan is saying hits. Qian looks at the ground. Complete opposite direction as Yuan.  
“Getting attached to you. Falling for you.” 
Qian closes his eyes and sighs, pulling his head up from where it was pointed. It’s like he can’t get used to hearing Yuan confess. Like it hits him every time Yuan says he’s in love with Qian and has been forever. 
“Wanting you all my life.” 
Tumblr media
gif by @wanderlust-in-my-soul
That is too much for Qian. Even with his eyes closed, even though he can’t see Yuan right now, he has to face away. 
“It was never your fault.” Yuan says, and Qian’s eyes open ever so slightly. 
And I just have to say that it is really really important to me that with all of Qian’s trauma, with everything he has suffered, with the stuff he went through with his mother, that he finally has someone tell him that it wasn’t his fault. There is naturally a lot of hesitation in changing the way you see someone you have raised, someone you have looked at and treated as a brother, and suddenly see them as someone to be romantically interested in. 
Tumblr media
gif by @wanderlust-in-my-soul
So it is important to me that Yuan tells Qian he did nothing wrong. That Yuan’s feelings here are entirely his own, borne of his own mind and body, and that there is no aspect of Yuan’s feelings for him that Qian pressured him in to. That Yuan will be fine, eventually, if Qian does not reciprocate his feelings. Qian is not being forced in to anything here, and neither is Yuan. And I am so so so glad that Qian got to hear that. Twice! 
Anyway, Qian’s eyes open ever so slightly right as Yuan starts walking away, shoulder checking Qian on his way out. 
“Wait.” Qian grabs Yuan by the wrist “Wei Zhiyuan.” 
Tumblr media Tumblr media
gifs by @wanderlust-in-my-soul
Yuan’s eyes are locked on to Qian’s hand around his wrist. He once again looks surprised that Qian would be brave enough to stop him from leaving. We get a shot of their hands (😈) and Yuan ever, ever so slowly raises his eyes to look at Qian.  
Qian has passed the test at the last second.
87 notes · View notes
anonyma13 · 2 years
Text
.
2 notes · View notes
Note
as someone who's internet name has been gamma for years now, i would like to hear about who gamma is
OKAY, DOUBLE THANK YOU FOR THIS ASK!! first thank you is for sending my first ever ask!! hell yeah!!! second thank you is because this got me to realize that pages don't show up on mobile, which means the summary page I spent a couple DAYS writing was completely inaccessible to most people using the site (thanks for being a functional website, Tumblr! lol). (and I guess I could give you a third thank you for asking about Gamma specifically because I love to ramble about this guy lmao)
Gamma's a Creation (basically a biological robot) who acts as bodyguard and personal assistant to Alice, the creator of the world in Universe 1. He's the one who collects souls for Alice's army as well as accidentally becomes one of the main character's (Lydia's) mentors, and has become a sort of secondary protagonist for Universe 1 as a whole. Gamma's pretty reserved and takes his responsibilities very seriously, even if they're self-imposed, doing his best to keep Alice safe as that is what he was literally made to do. Honestly, considering the circumstances, he's done a damn good job. He's fascinated by Earth, which, thanks to him spending his entire life in Alice's Realm, is functionally an alien planet to him, and he spends most of his free time researching aspects of it (usually human history and sociology) from books he and Alice have stolen from Earth. He tends to creep out the humans a bit, both with the whole soul-collecting thing (which most of the humans still hold a grudge against him for, which Gamma fully understands) and with him being an unknowing resident of the uncanny valley who's oftentimes secretive to a fault, but he genuinely cares about their well-being and does what he can to help improve their situation, usually working himself to the bone to do so. There's... a lot more going on with this guy, but honestly I could ramble about him for another three hours, and that's what the prompt fills are for! lmao
I've got a little more info about him right HERE! (along with info about all of the other characters in Universe 1)
0 notes
churipu · 4 months
Text
𐙚 THREE TIMES NANAMI MADE YOU CRY ⋆ ˚。
Tumblr media Tumblr media
featuring. nanami kento x reader
warning. referral to the reader as 'wife'
note. i just felt so mellow today — because a lot of sad nanami edits have been passing by in my fyp and i'm about to have a mental breakdown because of it, when i catch gege >:( a lil note, i cried writing this bcs i miss nanami so much help
Tumblr media
✴ ONE : WHEN HE PROPOSED TO YOU
it took him a short time to realize that he wanted to spend the rest of his life with you — he sees you cooking breakfast at the crack of dawn just for him before he goes to work, and he realizes that, yes, you were the one for him.
"do you want to marry me?"
your head turned to him slowly, eyes following just a few seconds after and you blinked, "i'm sorry, what?" you ask him.
nanami's eyes raised up to meet yours, "do you want to marry me?" he repeats his question calmly.
it was a day like every other — the both of you sitting on the couch, the television on yet nobody's paying attention to it. nanami has his eyes on the magazine in his grasp, and you were on your phone, scrolling through social media.
"yeah, of course i do."
nanami takes out a velvet colored box from his pocket and opens it up, you stared at him in confusion; wondering if this was a joke or not, is he actually proposing to you while you were in your pjs? but that actually didn't bother you — it was the fact he is proposing to you.
"marry me." he murmurs out softly, taking the beautiful ring out of its place, waiting for your acknowledgement.
your tears began flowing out and it took nanami by surprise, "sweetheart, i'm sorry. was it too sudden? you don't have to—" you shook your head at him, wiping your tears away.
"i'm just so . . . happy, ken."
that was the first time he made you cry.
✴ TWO : HIS WEDDING VOWS
your wedding was a simple ceremony. it was filled with fun and laughter, your loved people were there — his loved people were there, gojo and his students were there. it was just, a one fine day, really.
when it comes to the delivering of vows, traditionally; the groom goes first.
"y/n, i'm not good with my words, but you know me better than anyone else, so i assume you know that as well. we met five years ago when i bought a casse-croûte in a bakery you worked in; and if you had told me then that we'd be standing here and i'd be spending the rest of my life with you, maybe i wouldn't believe in you and told you that you were saying nonsense.
first and foremost, i would never thought that a one stop shop in a bakery would lead me to the love of my life — that day, i decided to stop by the bakery you worked in because my usual place was closed for the day, when i think about that, i get so overwhelmed; if my usual shop had opened that very day, maybe you would be standing here with another man, another man who is not me.
y/n, you are the most curious person i have ever met in my life. and i am pretty sure you are asking yourself now, what is kento thinking of right now? the answer is you. i am thinking about you now, later, and forever. from the first day you asked me if i liked casse-croûte, i have not once stopped thinking about you.
i was never a person who sought for relationship or thought of it a lot in the past, but when you came into my life. i began thinking of my future with you, making our own happy family, having kids, traveling the world, all of that. the moment i saw you take your time to wake up before me to cook me breakfast before i go to work, i knew i just had to make you my wife. i want to spend the rest of my life with you.
you love me and completed me in ways i do not know existed, and my love — i promise you, that from here onwards, i will continue to love you and every piece of you and for who you are yet to become. i promise to be your husband, your best friend, your partner in crime as you always like to name it, and your number one supporter, also as you name it.
above all, i promise to show you how lucky i am to have you in my life. i cannot wait to start a new chapter in my life with you, i love you."
it was safe to say that everyone in the room was crying, including you (and gojo, who had to be escorted out by megumi because the male was straight up sobbing loudly).
✴ THREE : WHEN HE DIED
shibuya. october 31, 2018. god, how much you dreaded every single thing that happened in there — just the thought of october coming after that year made your stomach churn in sadness.
the day a lot of people lost their life, including nanami.
nanami is a strong man, and you know so. you believed in him, never did you once stopped believing in your husband; but the whole time nanami was fighting for his and everyone's life in shibuya, you were back at home with your few months old son.
"daddy is going to be okay, yeah? he's gonna be back soon," you cooed to your son despite the rising wariness.
but no, nanami never came back.
the one to break the news was no other than itadori yuuji himself, the sole witness to your husband's passing — he knocked on your door, beaten up, although his wounds were tended to. you knew the shibuya incident scarred the young boy with something that couldn't be closed off now or maybe ever.
"he's not coming back, is he?" you ask the teen with a sad smile.
itadori broke down on your porch that day. and you, nanami's wife was the one comforting him, after all, watching someone you care die in front of you was traumatizing. but itadori blamed himself for nanami's death — he was baffled when you pulled him into a tight hug, "it's my fault y/n-san! i killed him. he's dead because of me."
as much as nanami doesn't display his affection to itadori, you were a witness to how nanami really feels towards the young boy. telling you how he wishes your son would grow up to be just like itadori, bubbly and energetic. nanami cares about itadori like the boy was his own — although failing to show it.
"did he . . . did he say anything before he . . ?"
itadori cried in your embrace, "he . . . said he was sorry. for not coming back. and that he loves you and your son so much . . ." itadori was barely taking breaths in, he was hyperventilating in your arms, "he said he was sorry that he won't be able to accompany you to malaysia."
"okay." you didn't cry as itadori was breaking the news to you, you couldn't.
nanami's death quieted you — you didn't cry the first week, still not believing he was actually gone. finding yourself sitting on the couch, waiting for the male to open the door and to call out for you, "y/n, i'm home."
but it never happened. nanami was really gone. he's really dead.
grief is such an odd feeling, you relied on itadori to look after your son for the first two weeks as you didn't find yourself in the right mind to be capable of taking care of your own flesh and blood. a day before your son was going back into your care — you went grocery shopping, to buy things both nanami and you used to buy.
it was a mistake on your part not to use a basket or a trolley, putting all the stuff on the cashier counter was hard work. and as the baby food you put on top of the pile slipped through your fingers and dropped onto the floor, splattering the contents everywhere, you can't help but to let a few stray tears out.
your silent sobs turning into a full blown breakdown in the middle of a grocery shop as everything began coming in, a reality check.
that nanami was no longer going to be there with you again, you couldn't feel him anymore, you couldn't hear him anymore, you couldn't smell his cologne anymore.
but the world doesn't stop for that, it will keep going and you had to go on with your life without him.
Tumblr media
© CHURIPU 2023 , DO NOT COPY OR REPOST ANYWHERE
923 notes · View notes
deadsetobsessions · 2 months
Note
As the girl who came up with the Triplet! Tim AU PLEASSEEEEE continue it!!!!! I NEED to see Bruce who thought he had one robin finding out he actually has three separate completely different ones
I gotchu lmfao I think I’ll get to Bruce later? I’m really happy you liked it omg like that idea is so good
——
Their plan was perfect! It would have been perfect, had it not been for Dick Grayson and his nosy face!
Batman might not have known his identity, but Dick Grayson did. He promised to keep it from Batman, but Tim hadn’t exactly thought about his secret identity when he showed up to harass the man into being Robin again.
And now, they’re paying for it.
Tim leaned back and crossed his arms as he watched Dick cradle his head in his hands, looking half a short breath away from a mental breakdown.
“Are you telling me… there’s three of you?”
“Yes, Dick.” Tim sighed, having answered this exact question ten times in the past two minutes.
Dick lifted his head, wide eyes looking a little feverish… no, looking a little manic.
“Tim. Your name is Tim, right? I’m not-”
“Yes, my name is Tim. Technically, so are the others. But the one here with us is Lionel.”
“No, wait, Tim, you understand how this is- insane, right? It’s not even remotely in the realm of mentally healthy.” Dick paused. “Wait, are you skipping school right now?!?”
“Has anyone ever told you your priorities are screwed up, Dick?” Lionel-Tim walked back into the room, hands full of snacks and, most importantly, Dick’s emergency marshmallow bag. Dick turned to Lionel, eyes full of guilt, and grabbed the bag of marshmallows like a dehydrated man in the middle of a desert who’s only couple of feet away from an oasis that he’s been looking for for days.
“Oh my god. I’ve had three younger brothers and I thought they were all the same kid!” Dick wailed, grabbing a handful of marshmallows and stress cramming it into his mouth. Tim threw him a disgusted look.
“To be fair, we made sure to train to act like each other from a really early age,” Tim said, snatching the bag of chips that Lionel chucked at his head. His snack laden triplet plonked himself on the plush spinning chair, shoving a hand inside the bag of gummy worms and cramming it down his throat as he spun around.
“I can’t believe I’ve never even checked up on you at your place!! If I did, I would have noticed it way earlier!”
“Probably not,” Lionel mumbled through his mouthful of colorful gummy worms. “You only caught us because Tim got beat half to death by an edgy crime lord teenager.”
Dick hunched into himself, a myriad of complicated emotions- largely, guilt and fury and heartbreak- wormed its way past his face. Tim glared and threw a chip at his triplet.
“It’s fine, Dick. Lionel’s just being an asshole. We’re taking care of it. Revenge prank.” Tim explained.
“He wouldn’t have caught us and you know it.” Lionel grumbled.
“I’ll help.” Dick mumbled dejectedly.
“You’ll have to get in line, Wing,” Tim went back to his laptop. “My thirds got first dibs, and I’m not planning on staying still either. I’m gonna mess with Jason’s slush funds.”
“He’s got a stash of cash locked up in the fourth safe house, but that’s not interesting. Look!” Lionel proudly displayed a duffle bag- from where he got it from, Dick had no clue- and unzipped it to show batteries, lightbulbs, and random bits and bobs.
“What is that?” Dick asked.
“That’s the second lightbulb in his bathroom light! This is the left battery in his TV remote! And this is half of his back up boot laces. I took all of his 10 mm sockets! And the specialized socket he got for his bike! And this,” Lionel grinned, lifting up a piece of fabric. “Is his pillow case!”
“Niceee.” Tim whistled. He tossed a piece of tech at Lionel. “Sneak back into his house and put that in between his pillows. It’ll keep both sides uncomfortably warm.”
“Fuck yeah!”
“Is… this revenge for almost killing you?” Dick asked.
“It’s either this or complete and total financial ruin, social death, and then actual death.” Tim tapped away at his laptop.
“You’re kind of scary, you know that?”
“We know!” Lionel chirped.
“Base, come in.”
“Base,” Tim quickly replied, laser focused on Archy’s call. Lionel and Dick quieted.
“Hood’s lurking outside the school like a creep,” Archy muttered into the comm, papers rustling behind him.
Dick tensed, upset making itself visible once more.
“You still have the container I gave you this morning in your pocket?”
“Yes.”
Tim smirked in a way that made Dick suddenly have a horrible need to shake and lecture him on the moralities of not becoming a villain. “It’s glitter. Purple and pinks.”
“…Ah.”
“Godspeed, Archy!” Lionel chirped again, sounding slightly more demented.
A moment of silence before-
“Oof!” A puff. “Oh, no! I’m so sorry, mister!”
On the other end of the comm, the gruff voice of a beefy teenager spluttered, “What- why do you- egh- my mouth! The glitter went into- pleh, pleh! What the fuck, kid?!”
“I’m so sorry! It was supposed to be for a project! I worked so hard to mix the colors right! Wait, stay still, mister! I’ll help!”
Archy, eyes wide and innocent, patted some more glitter onto the vigilante.
“No, stop! Stop! You’re getting it on my bike!”
“It’s a pretty color- oh hey, this is open-”
“No! That’s the fuel tank!”
“Oh! Whoops! Sorry!”
As chaos spread on the other side of the comms, Tim and Lionel burst into cackles. Dick choked on the marshmallows, helplessly shaking with laughter.
Lionel whacked at Dick’s back, hysterically giggling.
“That’s- that’s Archy?”
“Archy pretending to be Lionel pretending to be me yeah. I hope he got glitter in the fuel tank.” Tim grinned.
“Want me to patrol tonight to see if he got the glitter out of his bike?”
Lionel jabbed his pointy elbows onto Dick’s shoulders. “Absolutely. Distract him, too! I gotta mess with his safe houses. He’ll never feel comfortable in a safe house ever again.”
“Don’t go overboard, Lionel.” Tim looked up. “But also, I changed his WiFi passwords to 123456, so do with that what you will.”
Lionel grinned. Dick mustered up a smile in response, pushing the guilt away. He had a lot to make up to his little brothers, and if terrorizing Jason was how he was going to accomplish that… well, Dick’s not feeling too nice about Jason right now.
——
Batman squinted suspiciously at a humming Nightwing.
“Something happen?” He managed to ask.
“Hm? Oh, no, I got some nice pictures.”
“…I see.”
Batman, regardless of what his history might suggest, knew how to pick his battles. This? This thing that brought Nightwing’s murder smile? This was one battle he was willing to walk away from.
“Hey, B, you ever think about adopting more kids?”
Batman choked and promptly grappled away. Nightwing cackled.
“You can’t escape the question!”
Batman ran faster.
551 notes · View notes
Text
Regarding the GeorgeNotFound Situation
This entire conversation should not have happened publicly.
It was clear from Caiti's initial post that there was a breakdown in communication rather than any "assault" or "molestation." In her own testimony, she never described explicitly stating no, nor giving any indication besides "getting up" to stop the attention (which was later disproved).
That does not mean she wasn't uncomfortable. That does not mean she was not hurt by George's actions. It also does not mean George is a molester because of it.
From Caiti and George's statements, it is clear that this took place over a couple of hours (3-4), and besides the texting afterward, there were no further physical interactions between them. To use a single incident to describe George's behavior is a stretch at best and downright misinformation at worst. In the Wilbur situation, the violations of Shelby's boundaries happened over months with repeated attempts to tell him to stop.
In George's situation, it happened over four hours, in which there were no explicit tells to stop.
That said, I do hope George takes this incident and rethinks his behavior with strangers. Even if it should not be described as molesting, it still hurt Caiti, and if I were him, I would make strides to not repeat the mistakes made here.
Moreover, I think that some parties involved should not have been. Some individuals used the volatile situation to spread their own hate toward the Dream Team. They used Caiti's story to push their own agenda, which, in no way, is supporting a victim. Her friends should have helped her find closure by seeking reconciliation from her "abuser;" instead, they made the situation a public massacre where she would most likely be harassed after already feeling vulnerable.
My hope is that, behind the scenes, the two will talk about what happened and try to find peace. George clearly did not know he hurt Caiti, and he apologized for making her feel uncomfortable. That does not make him a villain: it makes him a person who made a mistake.
The moral of this whole fiasco is not to support or not support victims. Support can be weaponized for personal gain, and to support blindly is almost as bad as not supporting at all.
Instead, we need to listen. From the beginning, Caiti's story was a plea for an apology from George, and all she needed was George's apology (which she received). She did not need people calling him an abuser, she did not need her friends to utilize her pain to attack George's friend Dream, and she did not need people to pry into both her and George's life for answers.
All of this could, and should, have happened off-screen where the two parties could reconcile and heal.
To Caiti: I wish this had not happened to you. I am sorry you are in pain, and I am sorry your friends used your pain for their gain. I hope you find peace from George's apology, and if you do not, I hope you find peace in life.
To George: I wish this did not happen in the public light. Your mistake did not need to be publicized and scrutinized and instead should have been between you and Caiti. I hope you will help Caiti find peace, and if she does not want it, I hope you grow as a person and do not make this mistake again.
As of right now, this blog will remain positive about the Dream Team. I probably will not be supporting George enthusiastically right now (since I want to be certain this isn't a repetitive behavior and just one incident). However, I will be happy to talk about any fandom content regarding him and the other members.
It has been a rough few days, and I am grateful for the lovely positivity we created between my anons and followers. I give you all many squishes of happiness. Thank you for being kind.
Now, let us all move on to a better and brighter future in this fandom. We have a lot of content coming up, and I'm very excited. Feel free to send any asks regarding the situation; I would love to read your opinions.
TL;DR This conversation should have happened off-camera. Caiti's story should not have been used for clout, and George should not have been attacked for clout. Both need to heal off-camera, and we should support that.
551 notes · View notes
d0youc0py · 11 months
Note
heyy saw your post ab requests!!
can you do simon and konig seeing their s/o for first time without makeup, but she's rlly insecure and overthinking it, while he's totally clueless bc he doesn't think much of it until he realizes she's acting kinda weird. ending with comfort/fluff plss
Tumblr media Tumblr media
“You’re mad at me?”
The question rang through your head causing a flood of confusion.
“What? No Konnie.” You assured.
“Why won’t you look at me? You’re barely talking to me. I did something to upset you.” Those sad blue puppy dog eyes nearly killed you. You rapidly shook your head.
“Konnie I would tell you if you did something. I just”- You cut yourself off. You knew Konig was the exact opposite of materialistic and vain, so you didn’t exactly know how to tell him how you were feeling without getting laughed at. “I’m not wearing makeup.” You said slowly. He squinted his eyes leaning forward. He didn’t stop til your noses were touching.
“I like it.” He stated. “You’re mad at me because I didn’t notice.” He also stated. You rolled your eyes.
“No Konnie!” You couldn’t really even hold back a smile. The fact that he was missing your point completely actually made you feel a bit better. Maybe you really didn’t look that different. “I just don’t feel pretty.” His eyes widened.
“How can you say that?” He mumbled. “I don’t like you saying things like that.” He grabbed the empty plate in front of you and began washing it. He muttered a few things under his breath that you couldn’t quite catch.
“What?” You pressed. He didn’t answer you and continued washing the dishes. Once he was done he sat back down with you. This was a common thing with Konig. Him needing time to plan out what he was going to say. At first it felt insincere- having to plan out exactly what you were going to say to a person. Then you realized it just made him all the more honest. He genuinely thought about things- instead of just giving the first answer that popped into his head.
“What do I call you?” He asked suddenly.
“Schön.”
“What does it mean?” He continued.
“Uh, Sweetheart?”
“No, that’s Schatz.” He said shaking his head. “It means beautiful.” That was enough to make your eyes light up. Schön was his preferred nickname for you when you were alone. It was usually mumbled against your skin, but other times it was spoken so proudly as if it were a fact. He held out his arms for you. You accepted his invitation and crawled into his lap.
“You’re beautiful.” He whispered.
Tumblr media
“Again.”
“Simon.” You groaned. “Can we do this later? My throat hurts.”
“Do you feel it?”
You paused.
“Again.” He insisted.
“I’m beautiful.” You muttered looking at yourself in the mirror. If anything this was worsening your self esteem. Having to stare at yourself next to your god of a boyfriend. Simon shot you a glare in the mirror.
He thought affirmations would help. After you had a small breakdown in the living room when he said you looked different. He didn’t mean it in a bad way at all, but that’s what you heard.
“When Johnny does this it works.” He muttered back, rubbing his jaw. Flashes of the Scot yelling affirmations to himself in the mirror before every mission flashed through his mind.
“That’s cause Johnny is hot.”
Cue another glare.
“You know what I mean. He just rolls out of bed- so do you. Do you know how much work I have to put in to not look ugly?”
“What did you just say?” His voice was so stern it caused you to jump. “You called yourself ugly?” He looked offended. His molten eyes were hard- but there was something else there. Hurt- maybe anger. Probably both.
“You know what I mean.” You sighed.
“No actually I don’t.” He spat. “Why do you talk to yourself like that? Makes me sick.” He growled.
“It doesn’t really have anything to do with you Si. It’s just how I feel without makeup.” You tried to explain. He wasn’t having it.
“It does have something to do with me. You think I have bad taste? That I’m attracted to ugly people? Well I’m not. I’m not saying I like you just because of your looks, you have a lot going for you, but you sure as hell aren’t here just cause you can make me laugh.” He shot back.
“Well you’ve only seen me with makeup.” You reminded. His brows furrowed.
“You’re still here yeah? I haven’t kick you out. You know why?” He took a step forward holding your face between his hands. “You are one of the most beautiful things that have ever happened to me. Don’t you ever insult my taste again, because I know beauty when I see it. Understand?”
A soft smile spread across his face when your glow came back. You smiled widely.
“Yes Sir.”
1K notes · View notes
randomshyperson · 1 year
Text
Mess is Mine - Milf!Wanda Maximoff x Reader
Tumblr media
Summary: Being divorced from Wanda Maximoff implies never getting over her.
Warnings: (+18), language, brief smut, divorced ladies who are very still much in love with each other, unspecified age gap, marriage going wrong, hopeful ending, mild angst, fluff.| Words: 3.949k.
A/N-> There's this divorced couple in a Brazilian soap opera with so much chemistry in their scenes together because of the intimacy gained during marriage (even though that didn't work out) and they won't leave my tik tok ; at some point, my brain thought about this fic. I would love to write more of this trope in the future.
General Masterlist | AO3 | Wattpad
--//--
Wanda had a persistent migraine, and the pile of work in front of her was not helping.
Still, all her stubborn brain could focus on instead of her real job was the stupid headline of the gossip magazine on her desk.
A cheap and badly angled photo of her ex-wife with colorful captions that read 'The newest business killer couple?" and dozens more insinuations about a secret high-society romance made her stomach churn.
Wanda tried not to be affected by the gossip, but you looked so happy in the photo that she couldn't help it.
The sudden opening of her door made Wanda jump in her seat, in one quick pull close the magazine and sigh with relief when she saw it was only Natasha.
"Why are you here?" Her long-time friend and co-worker asked. Wanda frowned in confusion.
"It's still my company..."
Nat rolled her eyes, walking into the office and taking long strides to her desk. "I meant in here, smarty-pants. The event is starting in an hour, the staff wanted some words of encouragement or something."
Wanda sighed wearily, massaging her forehead with one hand. "Can't you do that for me, Nat? I gotta make some calls."
Nat hummed in agreement, but her gaze caught the closed magazine on the table and she raised a brow at her friend. "One of those calls includes your ex-wife, I suppose."
Wanda chuckled dryly, taking the magazine out to one of the drawers and adjusting herself to reach the desk phone. "There's nothing else for me to say to her."
Her friend hid a smile that said that she didn't believe this one bit. "Okay, whatever you say. See you later, boss."
Wanda waved goodbye, with the phone to her ear. Her immediate instinct was to dial known numbers but she shook her head to push that ridiculous idea away and went back to work.
Several hours after the peak of the event when the company was filled with guests, from potential clients to journalists looking for any news like vultures at the carrion, Wanda was at her second glass of champagne, trying to keep the rest of her patience intact after having answered so many questions for gossip magazines regarding the headline from earlier in the day.
She absolutely did not want to discuss a possible romance between her ex-wife and the heiress of Bishop Industries. 
Years before, any of them would have been afraid to question her about something so ridiculous, but that was before you came along. And melted your way into the Business Ice Queen, the untouchable Wanda Maximoff, or whatever insensitive nickname they invented about her back then. Before breaking down all of Wanda's walls, making her a better person, and of course, before you left her.
It was definitely the alcohol's fault that she was thinking about this, and with these stupid tears welling up in her eyes. Wanda swallowed all the emotion, burying it deep and making sure that no one had noticed her broken expression. With an excuse to a group of investors who were boring her into a corner, she retreated to an area far away from the company's outdoor gardens, taking a deep breath to calm herself. The beautiful view of the state lake was most welcome.
So of course the reason for her almost minor breakdown had to show up wearing her favorite suit.
"Are you running away from your guests, Maximoff?" Your tone was casual, the smile provocative. She snorted to herself, crossing her arms and keeping her eyes on the lake. You didn't mind, walking over to her at a slow pace until you were beside her on the edge. 
"I just needed some air." She merely replies. With one hand in your pockets, you adjust your own hair, and Wanda hates that she can smell the shampoo, her body betraying her and shuddering as if your scent were addictive. 
"You're avoiding me today." You comment lightheartedly, studying her face. "I arrived an hour ago and it took me almost all this time to find you."
Wanda forced a smile, finally facing you back, but her angry look made you hesitate. "I thought your chaperone was keeping you busy."
You glanced back at the party, stealing a quick check on Kate at the food stand, chatting with a blonde girl, before turning your attention back to Wanda.
"I forgot how hot you get when you're jealous."
Wanda huffs away, her cheeks burning which she tries to hide by staring at the lake. "Don't even start." She warns between teeth. 
You chuckle, rolling your eyes, but don't insist. You turn your attention to the lake as well. "I wanted to let you know that the boys have already arrived in King Cross. I spoke to them and Charles on the phone."
"I know, Pietro texted me." She retorts more harshly than she meant to and bites the inside of her cheek as she sees you lower your head in upset. With a sigh, she mumbles, "I meant, thanks for letting me know."
You smile, nodding before turning your gaze back to the party. "What do you think of Miss Bishop?" 
Wanda locks her jaw; How dare you honestly. A list of curses lays ready on the tip of her tongue, but she remembers where you two are, and takes a deep breath. You were clearly trying for some kind of reaction from her, and she's not going to let you have this victory today.
"She's beautiful." Wanda replies. "As young as you were when I met you."
You chuckle shortly, raising an eyebrow at her. "What are you implying, Maximoff?"
Wanda shrugs her shoulders softly, turning to leave. "You're quite clever, Y/N, I'm sure you follow." She hits back, but you step forward into her path. You are suddenly too close, and Wanda finds herself holding her breath. She needs to take a step back to avoid stopping breathing for good.
Your eyes stare into theirs. "Not that this is any of your business, darling, but my relationship with Kate is strictly professional."
You assure her in a low tone, and Wanda swallows hard as your gaze moves down to her lips for a long moment before focusing on her eyes again. A smile forms on your mouth next. "Besides this, I've always had a thing for older women."
Wanda sighs heavily, using all her mental control to pull away at once. "Go pay attention to your chaperone, Y/N. Especially if she's a potential client."
You roll your eyes at the business tip; you already know them by heart, the vast majority learned from Wanda. And your ex-wife makes mention of leaving, so you slide your hand down her forearm gently, taking some amusement in seeing the way she shivers.
"I wanted to talk to you about something, Wanda." You let her know, with a serious tone but a tender look. The redhead swallows dryly at the closeness of your faces now that you're standing side by side, your hands connected. "Later, after the party, okay?"
"I-I..."
"It's important." You assure her, knowing her hesitation is so as not to break your agreement about relapses. With a gentle expression, you insist, "Please, it won't take more than five minutes."
She licks her lips, and you almost kiss her. Lucky for her she agrees and walks away because God knows you would have done it, right there in that garden for all the New York reporters to have a week's news about.
Without Wanda's perfume around you, you take a deep breath and try to clear your mind, having to wait a few more minutes in the garden for your heart to stop beating so fast.
As the event nears its end and Wanda needs to give a closing speech, you say goodbye to Kate before the parking area. You ignore all the journalists who try to insinuate something about you having taken the girl to the car and exchange a glance with Wanda in the small crowd before moving toward the elevator.
Wanda has always known you so well, and with a nod, she knows exactly where she has to go.
Her work floor is completely deserted as she makes her way to her own office. But she still closes the door as she enters, letting out a tired laugh at your figure sitting on her armchair.
Her smile fades when she sees what you are reading.
"Headlines nowadays are getting creative..." You wryly chuckle, laughing at your ex-wife's caught expression. "It says here that I might have an eye to the Bishop's fortune. How silly, you gave me almost half of yours in the divorce, why would I need more money?"
"Very funny." Wanda dryly retorts, reaching up to snatch the magazine from your hands with a tug, and raking the item into the trash afterward. She crosses her arms as she looks at you. "What did you want to tell me?"
You flashed a small, sideways smile. "You used to be more polite when you wanted to sleep with me. At least offer me a drink."
Wanda chuckled dryly, rolling her eyes and begrudgingly moving to the personal bar in the corner of the room. If she leaned over more than necessary to grab one of the whiskey bottles, aware that the position in the chair gave you a full view of her ass, neither of you said anything about it. She hid her satisfied smile as she heard your breath hitch at the image, and you hid your own reaction as you cleared your throat and looked away.
Shortly thereafter, two shots of whiskey were served on the glass table in front of you. But before the toast, you declared:
"I'm leaving."
Wanda frowned, and when you made mention of taking the glass, she placed her hand on your forearm. "Speak."
You chuckled, staring her in the eyes. "I closed a contract with the Ten Rings folks. They want me in Korea for the next four months."
Wanda lets go of your arm as if she had been burned and steps away from the table with an indecipherable, but very disturbed expression.
"B-but the boys.." She tries to formulate, but you rise from the armchair with a sigh.
"They'll be at school." You retort, even though firm, your gaze is almost pleading. For what, Wanda doesn't have the heart to wonder. "It's not as if they stay with us all the time, Wands. The boarding school takes up this time quite well. It will only be four months, and they've already invented the telephone and internet, you know?" You try to joke, but Wanda hugs her own body and faces you.
"Why are you here, then? You've traveled before."
"Not for that long." You say, taking steps toward her, and mentally thanking heavens that she doesn't pull away. "And not... not since we made the divorce official."
"Y/N..."
"I know, I know." You murmur with a sad smile, raising your hands to her arms uncovered by her dress. "Maybe it's stupid, but I wanted to make sure we're okay. That it won't be something...I don't know, that hurts us."
"More than a divorce? I find that difficult." She replies with restrained emotion in her husky voice. You sigh.
"Wanda..."
"No, you're right. It was stupid." She cuts off, pulling away so you don't see the tears welling up in her eyes. "Of course it's okay. But I appreciate that you respect the concept of shared custody. I imagine the kids already know?"
"Yes, I told them before I took them to the airport." You mutter upset, watching Wanda walk away to the window. "But Wands, I wanted to tell you in person..."
"And why is that, huh?" she retorts with an impatience that makes you flinch. And for this, Wanda loses it for good. "You know, I don't understand you! You left me! You filed for divorce, you wanted to break us up. But you keep showing up here, and at home, and everywhere, and now you want to come here and say you care-"
"I care, Wa-"
"Then why did you leave me?" she shouts back, almost regretting it when she sees the tears in your eyes. You laugh tearfully, shaking your head.
"We've had this conversation dozens of times, Wan." You say, much calmer than she is. "But you just can't accept that you're wrong, can you?"
"Right, I forgot that I'm the villain in your story." She sneers, wiping her face with the back of her hand. You give another sad laugh.
"I wish it were that simple, darling." You tell her, taking slow steps toward her. "If you were just the villain, the bad wife, the evil boss, everything would be easier. I could hate you, curse your names to all my friends, and spend all the divorce money on expensive, empty things out there, but it's not like that. You forget the part that I love you and tried to fight for us until the last second."
Wanda sobs quietly, looking down at the floor, "Don't do that, Y/N."
"But it's true, baby, you know. I'm not the one who broke any promises, Wands. I just got tired of begging for crumbs of attention from the person who swore to spend the rest of her days with me."
Wanda lifts her chin, and the determination in her gaze doesn't do justice to the tears. "You knew how much my career meant when you said yes."
You smile sadly, taking one last step to get close enough to hold her face. Wanda shudders as you wipe away her tears, as you have done so many times before, as if no time has passed and everything was fine.
"I am so proud of you, Wands, for all you have accomplished with your work. I only wish I had been as important as this building." 
You place a long kiss on her forehead, pulling away afterward. You offer her one last sad smile before closing the door on your way out. Wanda starts to cry as soon as you have done so, even though she tries very hard to keep her tears away.
–//–
You burned a pancake to answer the door, but all the irritation over the ruined dish vanished when you saw Wanda standing in front of you.
It had only been a few days since you had last seen her, and now all the furniture in your apartment was already packed away and covered with rags, prepared for the time you would be away. Wanda's party dress gave way to a casual suit that made you swallow dryly and become self-conscious of the sweatpants and sports top you were wearing. Wanda wouldn't have picked anything better.
"Are you going to let me in, detka?" Wanda asked with some teasing for your moment of shock. You immediately recovered, making room for her to enter and closing the door once she was in the hall. "Sorry for disturbing your breakfast. I wanted to see you before your flight."
"Oh, don't worry about it. And I'm not going until the afternoon." You clarified somewhat clumsily by her presence, one hand still holding a spatula and the other adjusting your hair. "I made pancakes if you'd like..."
"I would love it." Wanda assured with a smile that made your stomach twist. It wasn't fair that your ex-wife got more beautiful every time you looked at her, honestly.
Wanda followed you back into the kitchen, and to both your surprise, you fell into a light conversation about work and the boys while preparing and serving food, completely different from the tone of the conversation the last time you had seen each other. 
But it was a time bomb, of course, so you weren't surprised when Wanda suddenly bit her lip, assuming a more tense posture. 
Finishing chewing your pancakes, you asked:
"Why are you here, sweetheart?" 
Wanda raised her eyes to you, and you stared back at her, patiently for her to clarify. 
"I wanted to say goodbye to you properly." She said, spinning her own stool around first before tipping her hands around yours to spin you toward her. You raise a brow in curiosity, but the question of what she was doing dies in your throat as she leans in and brings your lips together. 
It has been exactly three months, eighteen days, and sixteen hours since you last kissed Wanda, and you only realize how much you missed the feeling when she does it again. It's as intoxicating as it is overwhelming, and you gasp into her lips, breaking the kiss at once as you stand up, taking good steps away from the countertop.
"Wanda, we talked about this." You remind her in a husky voice, pressing a hand over your face. It's ridiculous how much your skin is burning and your heart is racing for something that lasted less than three seconds. "No relapses. You promised-"
"It's not a relapse." She assured, reaching up and grabbing your hands to place them around her waist. You grunted at the sensation, closing your eyes as Wanda slipped hers over your shoulders, too close for you to think about anything other than her. "It's a parting gift. So you'll have a reason to come back."
"W-what...?"
Wanda presses closer and brings her mouth to your ear. "Just stop overthinking it and accept the gift, detka."
With encouragement, she bites the lobe of your ear, and you give up resisting.
With a tug on her waist, you bring your mouths together in a kiss much hungrier and more passionate than the first, which elicits loud, almost primal moans of need from both of you. Wanda pushes and pulls, and by the time you stumble to the back of the living room couch, your pants are already open and there's nothing covering your torso; much like the woman in front of you, who as soon as she throws you sitting up against the cushions, your breathing out of rhythm and your lips swollen from kissing hard, makes a show of removing the rest of her clothes.
She has time to smile mischievously at your look of pure adoration at her completely naked body in front of you before you pull her onto your lap by her thighs. Wanda climbs on you with a needy grunt, burning from the inside out in anticipation for you to touch her again.
Your touches are almost desperate, your kisses mark her skin. It is your gift, but you also seem determined to make sure that Wanda has the memory of this morning for quite some time. 
When your mouth closes around her nipples, she whimpers to the ceiling, arching her back and steadying her hands in your hair, a soft plea that you not stop.
"Yes, baby, just like that." She encourages over the stimulation on her nipples, breaking into an excited whimper when you simply use your free hand to masturbate her. At any other time, you would have taken your time to work her up until she was begging for your touch, but now, in the urgency you two were sharing, it wasn't necessary. She was ready for you. 
Your fingers penetrate her without delay, and Wanda digs her nails into your shoulder, breaking into a breathless moan. You give one last hickey on her hardened nipple before you move your face back up to hers, kissing her with intensity as your fingers dance inside her walls with the mastery of one who has done this a dozen times, one who knows her like the palm of the hand she so deliberately grinds against in the intention of relieving herself.
"G-god, detka! Right here!" She breaks the kiss into an affected moan, practically meowing as you repeatedly hit that sensitive spot inside her. The wetness grows in your palm, Wanda oozes into you, and to help her, you bring your free hand to her hip, coordinating her movements as she begins to fail. "I-I'm going to..."
"Don't talk, show." You interrupt her with a proud little smile, moving your mouth down to bite the sensitive spots on her neck. "Come to me, baby, I've got you."
That's all she needs to reach the first climax of the morning, and she is not surprised that you don't stop at the first. Or the second, or the third.
You are on your knees on the living room floor when your first alarm goes off. Breathing as out of breath as Wanda, on the couch with her torso exposed and her legs spread from which you against your will need to remove your face to turn off the alarm when you pull away.
She covers herself when you disappear to the kitchen because she knows it's because of the flight, and when you return, the cell phone goes on the coffee table and you sit on the floor next to her on the couch. 
There is a long silent pause, where only your breaths can be heard. Wanda skirts a hickey on her own thigh and you sigh.
"We shouldn't have..." But you can't complete, it because your voice fails you as if you are going to start crying. You look away, and Wanda lets herself fall to your side on the floor, where she reaches for your hand.
"Detka, look at me." She asks, and you have to wait a moment until you sniffle and do so with difficulty.
"I told you it hurts me, Wands. I can't-" You take a deep breath. "I can't heal if this keeps happening. There’s no getting over you if we keep doing this”
She shakes her head. "I don't want you to get over me." She says and you huff, trying to pull her hand away, but Wanda squeezes. "I love you, you know I do."
"Love is not enough." You retort bitterly, your eyes filled with tears. "Loving me doesn't mean you won't hurt me. Nor that you won't ignore me. Those are just words, Wanda. I haven't felt loved by you in a long time."
She releases your hand from the shock of your words, and watches you create a physical distance between you as you walk away. You slip away to the bedroom, muttering that you need to get ready for the flight, and she tries to make a decision the whole time you are in the shower.
When you return to the room, wearing a set of travel clothes, Wanda is wearing your sweatpants and her own dress shirt. Your chest aches to see her wearing your clothes again.
"Wanda, you'd better go, my flight-"
"I love you, detka." She cuts you off with eyes bright with determination as she stares at you. You swallow dry, but can't resist when Wanda reaches up to touch your face. "I will make sure you know it. You'll know it so deeply that you'll be able to feel it in your bones. And you'll never doubt it again."
You sniffle lightly. "Wanda..."
"Don't worry about it now, detka." She interrupts you more gently, caressing your face. "Have a great trip. I'll be here when you come back home."
You sigh, and Wanda doesn't let you say anything more, kissing you in a calmer, but somehow much more intense way than before. 
She leaves the apartment before you, with a wink and a request that you call the boys before and after the flight. 
And even before she gets to the first floor, Wanda has already texted Natasha about her early retirement procedure after her well-deserved family vacation.
2K notes · View notes
milaisreading · 3 months
Note
Isagi sister y/n x Sae? She was in love with y/n for a long time and he was planning to confess to her. While all this time y/n was thinking that Sae was gay for Shidou after she saw their matches together. When he confessed to her, y/n told him that isn't he is gay for Shidou.
🌱🩷: I was supposed to be studying this morning, but your idea was funny so I had to write it. Thanks for the request!
Warnings: Reader uses she/her. Requests are open
⚽️Blue Lock belongs to Muneyuki Kaneshiro and Yusuke Nomura ⚽️
"Hmmm..." Sae muttered as he looked at the screen of his phone. Over the past few days that was how most people could find him, just sitting and looking at his phone. From time to time, his expressions would change, but that was only if you looked at him fast enough. A lot of people might say it was pre-final game jitters, but whoever knew Sae enough knew that wasn't true. Rin, Isagi, and Shidou would sometimes ask if je was ok, but all they would get is a short nod from him.
'I hope he won't be acting weird tonight. We really need to have his head in the game if we want to win the World cup.' Rin sighed as he received another short nod from Sae.
"What's up with Undereyelashes senior? Did you two have another fight?" Shidou snickered, earning an annoyed look from Rin. But, before the younger could yell back at him, Isagi stepped in between them. They didn't need all of this hours before their final game with Germany!
"Just calm down everyone. Let's leave Sae-san alone for now."
'Be honest when confessing, and also be smooth about it?' Sae frowned as he read through the guide.
'I hate these internet advice sites.' Sae groaned, putting the phone away and rubbing his eyes. He was tired, very tired from all the training, but also from keeping all these emotions under wrap for the past few months. Sae Itoshi wasn't someone who saw himself falling in love with anyone, heck, he never saw himself having a crush! But, here he was, hours before his final game at the World cup, he was busy figuring out a way to confess his feelings for (Y/n).
'This is ridiculous. I should have done this before the game. But, only if I win tonight will I see myself worthy of her.' Sae shook his head as a blush spread across his face.
"I will take a walk." The rehead muttered to himself as he walked out of the room Rin  Shidou, and he shared.
"Are you not nervous? The final game kept mom, dad, and I up all night." The older Itoshi froze in his footsteps as he heard the voice of the one person that's been haunting his thoughts for the past months.
'(Y/n)...' Sae gulped as he observed her and Yoichi's interaction.
"I was nervous days prior, now I am just numb to everything." Yoichi shrugged his shoulders as (Y/n) poked his cheek.
'Wish she would do that to me-Is that Yoichi's jersey she is wearing?!' Sae gulped as he noticed the familiar clothing item, which caused a weird wave of jealousy to hit him.
"Hm?" Feeling eyes on them, (Y/n) turned to look at Sae, and gave him a smile and wave.
"Sae-san! Ready for the game later?!"
Yoichi looked back as well, noticing the blush on the older's cheeks.
"You finally got out of your room?"
"Finally?" (Y/n) asked in confusion, but instead of getting an answer, the boy turned around and quickly walked away.
"Maybe he is nervous?" (Y/n) suggested, watching in sadness as Yoichi chuckled a little.
"Hard to imagine. He basically breaths football." He answered back, earning a nod from (Y/n).
'I think he might be panicking because him and Shidou are in the same team again. After all, I know all to well how it feels to be close to someone you love, but can't tell them that.' She thought as her expression fell a little.
'I wish he liked me like I like him. But, Shidou is the one he wants.'
"Let's go and get some food. I can't play on an empty stomach." Yoichi said as he pulled (Y/n) towards the exit.
"Sure..."
'Maybe,in another life he would like me back.'
Meanwhile, Sae was having a small breakdown in the bathroom.
'That smile... shit, it's so cute! She is so sweet and caring, how can one not fall for her.' Sae thought as he washed his face, hoping the cold water might help his blush.
"That smile, the voice, the eyes, everything is way too ethereal about her. I need to get this off of my chest as soon as possible." Sae took a few deep breaths.
"Shit, get your head into the game, Sae. You can't embarrass yourself in front of (Y/n) tonight."
A few hours later, the game was about to start. The stadium had a special euphoria haunting it, something neither the Japanese or German team felt before. Was it because it's the final game? Was it the loud cheers from the Japanese fans? They didn't know, but they definitely enjoyed it... some more than the others.
"Sae-chan! Ready for the game? You finally got off your high horse?!" Sae flinched as Shidou jumped on his back and yelled into his ear.
"Get off!" Sae yelled, shoving Shidou off of his back and looked back to where (Y/n) was sitting (he had to beg Yoichi to tell him where her seat was). Sending her a small wave, the girl returned it, then she looked back to where Yoichi was.
"YO-CHAN, DO YOUR BEST!!"
Sae sighed dreamily as he heard her yell, ignoring the small jealousy he felt for Yoichi at the moment.
'I wish she would cheer me on like that.'
"I WILL!!" Yoichi was heard yelling back, looking away from Kaiser for a moment.
"Hmm? Who is that? Your girlfriend?" Sae froze for a moment as he heard Kaiser's voice, then looked at the blonde, who had an amused smirk as he stared back at (Y/n).
'Don't look at her, you creep.' The redhead narrowed his eyes and walked over to where Kaiser and Yoichi were.
"Eww! That's my older sister, you dumbass." The blue-eyed boy cringed, which only amused Kaiser more.
"Even better, then. Hope the cutie will not faint from all the magnificent goals she is about to witness from me."
Hearing his words Yoichi recovered from his disgust and sent a warning glare in Kaiser's direction.
"Stay away from her."
"And if I don't?" Kaiser challenged as Sae arrived at Yoichi's side.
"Just shut up. The game is about to start."
Although his voice sounded monotone, that was far from what he felt inside.
It was a tiring 95 minutes of the game. With Sae, Rin, and Yoichi scoring on one side, and Kaiser and Ness on the other, but they made it. Neither the players or the fans could believe it. Japan actually won the Cup. The players of the Japanese team collapsed on the ground after Yoichi scored the final goal, too tired and excited to do much, while the fans were the ones erupting in screams of joy and crying.
"YOICHI!! YOU DID IT!!" The said boy laughed a little as (Y/n) ran up to give him a tight hug, tears streaming down her own face.
"I am so proud of you!" She cried out as Yoichi hugged her back.
"Thanks... without you and our parents' support I wouldn't be here." The boy said back as they separated.
"You are too humble." She pouted, but before she could say anything else, Sae interrupted the conversation.
"(Y/n), can I talk to you for a moment?" The boy asked, looking oddly nervous to the two siblings.
"Sure." She nodded her head as Sae led them to a more private area, or at least a spot where there were no cameras.
"What did you need? And congrats on winning! Your goal earlier was amazing!!" (Y/n) said, which boosted Sae's ego even more up.
"Thanks, glad that you liked it. But, I called you here to talk about something else."
"What is it?" (Y/n) wandered, part of her wanting to ask why he was with her, when he could be celebrating with Shidou.
'Maybe he needs dating advice?' She mused.
"I wanted to tell you this for a while now... I really like- I mean, love, I really love you."
(Y/n)'s eyes widened in shock and her face turned red as Sae continued.
"You are always so calm and kind to others, you were even kind to me after I acted like a jerk the first time we met. I am not really one to fall in love, I never imagined myself in this position, but I am glad that it is you who I fell for."
"Sae... wait, so... so you don't like Shidou-san?" She asked, trying to process everything. Sae stopped talking and looked at the girl in bewilderment.
"Why would I like him of all people?"
"It's just... you both look so close. And your interactions during the U-20 match, I thought that you like him..." (Y/n) admitted, nervously playing with her fingers. Sae was pretty much speechless for a good 2 minutes, ignoring everyone around himself as he sighed.
"I only love you. Shidou is a friend, I will admit that, but I don't see hin as anything more." Sae spoke as he took her hands into his. (Y/n) got more flustered as she avoided Sae's eyes for a moment, but eventually spoke up as well.
"I.... I love you as well. I have for a while now." She stuttered out while looking up at Sae. The boy felt a variety of emotions hit him, but the one that stood out the most was happiness. Pure, utter happiness.
"That makes you mine, from now on. And I will be yours." He said, kissing the embarrassed girl on the cheek.
"I am glad then." She laughed a little.
214 notes · View notes
finelinevogue · 1 year
Text
you are the love of my life
Tumblr media Tumblr media
summary - you go to harry’s listening party and are reminded how he is the love of your life
warnings: heavily angsty, probably not a conventional happy ending but no pt.2, fluffy moments too don’t worry!, swearing
word count: 3k
pairing: ex-boyfriend!harry x reader
“Harry I don’t think that’s the best idea.” 
You rubbed a hand over your forehead as the call you were having with your ex-boyfriend stressed you out. It wasn’t the most ideal moment to be having this call either, since you were waiting for Chris, your boyfriend, to come and pick you up for date night.
Standing in the hallway you leaned against the wall and fought back the tears that were threatening to fall onto your cheeks. It was unfair how much your heart still hurt after breaking up with Harry and yet it was a mutual breakup, in which both of you decided to stay as friends. It was a hard decision for both of you and one you’ve regretted for all 482 days after. 
You knew his phone calls were a way of him checking up on you and making sure you were doing okay, which was the exact same reasons why you answered the phone. You each had pieces of each others hearts and that was something neither of you could let go. 
“Please, Y/N. I need... Just, please.” He said softly and your heart cracked just a little.
“Uh.. Harry, look I’ve got to go...” You tried to use your date night as an excuse to leave this phone call as it was.
“Uh.. Harry, look I’ve got to go...” You tried to use your date night as an excuse to leave this phone call as it was.
“Y/N...” 
The way Harry said your name with such familiarity made your heart so warm. His voice sounded like home and your heart knew it. You wanted him to come home, but his voice was as close as you’d ever get again. 
“You know Chris will be there.” You replied and you could hear him thinking out loud. His silence was so loud, thinking over the situation. You knew that it wouldn’t be an easy decision for him to make, but this was unfortunately the situation you’d both arrived at.
“Okay.” 
“Okay?” You questioned, just to make sure that had been his answer.
“Yeah. Okay. I’ll text you the details later.” 
You couldn’t even say goodbye to Harry on the phone because he’d cut the call. Back when you were together Harry would refuse to be the first one to hang up the phone, same as you, so you would both stay on the phone for hours and hours. Now the calls only lasted a couple of minutes, because it was too hard to hear each other without getting to be with each other every day. 
Putting your phone in your bag, you walked down the hall and looked at yourself in the hallway mirror. You tilted your head back as you tried to trickle the tears back into your eyes. Sniffling, you looked at yourself and tried to pull the corners of your lips into a smile. When your lips began to tremble you tried to quieten your fast-beating heart, preparing yourself to be loved by someone that wasn’t Harry tonight. 
Nodding at yourself, you left your house and walked to Chris’ car. Opening the door for yourself, you slid in the front passenger seat and greeted him with a warm hello.
“Hi!” You smiled brightly, Chris not being able to tell you’d nearly had a breakdown moments before.
“Hello! Ready for some Thai food?” He asked, checking his mirrors before pulling away from your house and down the street. 
“Yeah.” You said, when you really meant no.
As Chris drove down the street, talking about the best things to order off the menu tonight, you couldn’t help but think about how different this night would’ve been if you’d done it with Harry. How Harry would’ve rang your doorbell, not just beeped his car horn. How Harry would’ve opened and closed the car door for you. How Harry would’ve been lost for words on how beautiful you looked as his first words to you. How Harry would’ve listened to you when you said you didn’t like Thai food and would’ve simply taken you to Taco Bell instead. 
It wasn’t right to think about Chris like that. It wasn’t fair. But Chris wasn’t Harry and that would be something you’d forever compared everyone to. 
Four days later and Harry had sent you the details.
Hershel💛: 101 Rosewood Street. 3PM. 20th May.
You smiled at how his contact name was still saved as Hershel; a nickname that you’d heard his stylist Harry Lambert use and had found so adorably funny that you teased him about it for ever. You couldn’t find the heart to change it now. The yellow heart stayed too, because he’d always be a slice of yellow in your cake of life.
On the 20th May you and Chris showed up to 101 Rosewood Street.
Chris walked in without your hand in his, because quite frankly he was not impressed by this event at all. Chris didn’t like that you were still chummy with Harry and he found it even worse that Harry had invited you both to listen to his new album together with him, and some of his fans. 
You felt silly walking in alone and pushing the door open for yourself since Chris didn’t hold it, but you didn’t make a big deal about it because there were more important things to worry about; like seeing Harry for the first time in 498 days.
The room was set up so beautifully, with sofas and comfy chairs dotted everywhere. Some fans were already seated and getting to know each other. Some of them noticed you and gasped over seeing you. You weren’t famous by any definition, but you and Harry were very public with your relationship because you weren’t bothered by anyone’s opinions of you. The fans absolutely adored you then and still do now.
You waved to them and smiled, following Chris where he was being directed by a man behind some doors “backstage”. You made note to go and say hello to the fans later. 
You pulled your sweater over your hands to create little sweater paws as your heart anxiously awaited to see Harry again. No amount of calls and face-times that you had had with him over the past 498 days could ever mean the same as seeing him face-to-face. You couldn’t smell his familiar aftershave on the phone or really remember the way he hugged either. 
“Y/N...” Harry’s voice came from behind you and you turned around to see him standing there in shock. Even though he had invited you and you’d confirmed you’d be here, he was still surprised to see you. 
“Harry.” You nodded and smiled, earning a smile from him in return. 
Both of you were staring at each other and you felt like you’d just fallen in love all over again. The way his eyes danced with happiness over you made you feel as bright as a Christmas tree in December. 
His hair was a little shorter now, but the curls were more obvious because of it. He looked really good and really well. His skin was glowing, most likely from just coming back off a holiday to Brazil for a week for his mum’s birthday. 
“You...” “It’s...” You both said at the same time, then laughing when you realised you were still just as eager to speak over each other as before.
Chris then coughed beside you and made himself aware to the both of you. You had no idea how long he had been standing there, but you weren’t oblivious to the fact that Harry and you had just had a moment in a public room. It probably wouldn’t sit well with Chris, but the heart wants what it wants.
“Um, Harry... This is Chris.” You pulled Chris into your side by looping your arm with his. Chris’ body language showed that he was trying to be very alpha and it turned you off. Harry held out his hand politely waiting for Chris to shake it and flinched a little when Chris shook it a bit too harshly. You bit your tongue from telling Chris to stop being so jealous, because you hated it.
“Y/N’s boyfriend.” 
“Nice to meet you, mate.” Harry smiled, feeling anything but happy shaking this mans hand.
“Hmm, likewise.”
Harry turned back to you then and explained how the event would work. He had a million and thirty three things he wanted to talk to you about, but he knew now wasn’t the best of times. He would save those conversations for later. 
After being directed back into the main room, you went around hugging fans and talking to them about anything and everything. Harry stood by and watched on with the biggest smile, adoring you even more for how kind you were to everyone and especially his fans. 
Jeff introduced the event and Harry said some hello’s before the listening started. Everyone was given a set of headphones and told that the music would play at the same time for everyone in the same order. 
You and Chris sat next to each other, but the empty spot next to Harry called out to you desperately. 
The rest of the event was where everything changed. 
There were three songs that stood out more than any of the others, to you. Grapejuice, Satellite and Love of My Life. Every song was perfectly created, but you knew exactly what Harry was talking about when you heard the lyrics to those particular songs.
Grapejuice was obviously about the afternoon you and Harry had spent in your back garden sharing a bottle of red. It had been a hot weekend and so you and Harry had enjoyed some time in the pool, before relaxing with some wine that Harry had bought back from Italy. In fact, it was from the vineyard he had invested money into.
“Top up?” Harry had asked you, reaching for the bottle of red on the table with a little struggle. Your legs were draped across his lap, so he had to hold onto them as he bent forwards.
“I wouldn’t say no.” You smiled, head feeling slightly hazy from the four glasses you’d had already.
“Here you go, m’love.” He handed you your now full glass.
“Thank you.” Reaching for it, your fingers brushing against Harry’s with a slight warmth.
“I hope I’m living this life in 50 years time.” Harry said, sipping on his wine before putting it back on the table. He put his hand on your shins and rubbed his thumb on the soft skin there, not minding that there were a few rogue hairs that you’d forgotten to shave.
“How so?” You leant your head against the sofa you were sitting on, watching Harry’s face glow in the summer’s afternoon sun.
“I mean, I want to be in this moment in 50 years time with a similar bottle of red, not those crappy whites and pinks. With you, and only you. Maybe a couple of grandkids running and messing around in the pool - that pool. Just want something simple for my–our future.”
You looked at him with heart-shaped eyes, wanting that future to arrive here already. Nothing could break this moment or this love between you. It had engrained so deep into the roots of your soul and you hoped you never had the opportunity to say goodbye to him.
Bringing yourself back to the room where the listening party was taking place you bit your bottom lip to keep it from trembling, looking over to where Harry was sitting across from some fans. He immediately turned his head to face you as if he knew you were looking at him.
“Are you okay?” He mouthed from across the room, just for you eyes to make out what he was saying only.
You nodded in return and swallowed back the lump in the back of your throat, before looking down at your hands in your lap that were fiddling with each other. Chris was sat next to you with a bored expression and not a single thought behind his eyes.
When you listening to Satellite your heart pounded at your chest, begging to be sealed and sent over to Harry. Returned, in fact.
It was clearly about the many moments after the breakup where Harry didn’t care about anything other than making sure you knew he was right there for you still.
“Y/N, hi. Please call me back when you can. I’m getting worried a-and I… I…. Fuck, I just need to hear your voice to know you’re still there.” Harry’s voice faded out on the voicemail and you put your phone back on the floor next to you.
You were sat against the bathtub with a bottle of Whiskey and Daughter’s music playing on your record player. Tissues surrounded you on the floor and your grey t-shirt, that was actually Harry’s, was covered in wet splotches where your tears had fallen or where you’d wiped your nose.
An album that you’d made of pictures of you and Harry was sat to the side of you, but you’d thrown it away from you after your heart couldn’t handle any more happy.
You tricked yourself into thinking you were okay about this mutual breakup, but in reality it was the most soul-crushing event that had ever happened to you. Neither you, nor Harry, had fallen out of love with each other but you were both just so terrified that everything was moving so fast on the same timeline as Harry’s excelling career. You wanted what was best for him, and him for you. Turns out, looking back, maybe that wasn’t breaking up with each other.
The phone rang again but you left it to ring until it made a beep that meant that whoever had called you had left a voicemail.
“I know I’m going round and round, here, Y/N/N, but I need you to know that I’m here. I’m right fucking here and I always will be. Don’t shut me out. Please. J-just, shit, just call me back, okay? I’m a thousand miles away, but I’m right here.”
Your eyes had wept during listening to Satellite, because you were reminded of how you sat on the bathroom floor until all feeling in your bum and legs had gone numb. The tears hadn’t stopped until Harry had travelled all 1,000 miles to knock on your door with a bottle of red wine. You’ll always remember what he said when he stood at your door;
“If you’re going to be sad, I’m always going to be sad with you.”
So, when you wiped your hands over your eyes at the listening party after listening to the song, where Harry reminded you he was still here for you, you expected Chris to put and arm around you and console you. Instead, he took off his headphones and tapped your shoulder.
“I can’t do this.” He said to you. “I can’t deal with it.”
Your brain was confused, taking the headphones out of his hands - not that you had much choice from him.
“Chris…wha— deal with what?” Your eyes widened as you watched him stand up, brushing off his trousers to rid them of creases.
“You, Y/N. I can’t deal with you and your heart.” He cleared his throat and looked away from you, not being man enough to watch your heart break all over your face in front of him. “Goodbye, Y/N.”
And with that he was off out of the room and presumably out of your life.
There was no sorry and no hug goodbye. There was just an emotionless and dramatic man that couldn’t deal with a woman who had more emotions than he a plastic barbie doll. He couldn’t handle a real woman who was in touch with her heart.
The funny thing was, your heart didn’t break in the slightest for him even if Chris thought that it would. If anything, there was this sense of relief of not having him sat next to you and not having to go home with him afterwards. There was a sense of freedom that came from Chris leaving.
And it all made sense when Harry came and sat next to you, making you forget all about Chris and solely focus on the man with the green eyes that you remained in love with 498 days ago.
Harry took one headphone off one ear as you put yours back on your head. “You okay?”
That’s when Love of My Life started playing and your heart started racing from the images his lyrics were painting.
“I.. uh.. I-I think so. Or at least, I will be.” You cleared your throat and looked at him to show him that there were no threatening tears this time. Harry didn’t know exactly what happened, but he was just glad to see an empty seat next to you. This time, he wasn’t going to allow anyone the chance of filling it again. “You?”
Harry’s hand slid over to the edge of his leg and he held his palm up, his fingers still as pretty as always. You smiled at him, with a slight nervous blush as your hand took ahold of his and the dancing butterflies took flight all over again.
“Yeah. I think I’ll be alright too.” And with a soft squeeze of his hand in yours, it was felt between the both of you that you’d both be alright; together.
1K notes · View notes
wannaeatramyeon · 9 months
Note
Fem!reader Isekai in Lookism ?
Anon, so sorry I'm answering this exactly 3 months later. You're my last request from May and I was soooo close to deleting it because I have had exactly zero ideas. Then I got partly inspired by @honeyhotteok fic here and now I'm running on less than 3hrs sleep in work and it's your fault. Oh yeah, and I've completely twisted the ask as well. It's not even close. So all that wait was for nothing 🙇🏻‍♀️
Adventures of YOUR part time job in the Lookismverse
G/N. You work the graveyard shift in a convenience store. You meet bizarre characters on different nights. Part 2
There's something wrong with people your age these days.
Everyone seems to be either in a gang or up to some shady shit. Seriously what is going on. Is this all a big joke that only you aren't in on?
Just the other day you swear you saw a group of guys in boiler suits punch through some walls across the street. Like what the fuck? What did the wall ever do to you? And then someone apparently called Tabasco starts chanting something about Burn Knuckles and oh my fucking god it's 11pm please shut up.
Oh course you never said that, you still have some sense of self preservation.
And how does anyone even have the time for all this. Between school and this part time job, you barely have enough hours to sleep.
You miss Daniel, the coworker who you haven't seen for a good year but used to gossip into the early morning with. He always seemed a bit nervous and fidgety when you voiced your concerns and observations, but you just assumed he was a nervous and fidgety kinda guy.
There would have been some fun stories to share. Instead now you work the graveyard shift on your own.
.
.
Case in point, the guy standing in front of you looks like one bad conversation away from a mental breakdown.
And really you're not in the habit of checking out customers but he cuts a striking figure. Every exposed inch of skin besides his face inked, and (you silently ask for his forgiveness for the objectification) the biggest chest you have ever seen. What even is this guy eating? What is this guy injecting? Lifting?
The question is almost out of your mouth but then you see the look in his eyes and slam your lips shut.
Nevermind. You ring his purchases through and tell him to have a good night.
.
.
You're restocking the shelves when you notice a guy with a scar across his lip and nose, dripping blood from god knows where all over your freshly mopped floor.
Which is alarming in itself but come on man. Look at the floors. You're making it so fucking gross.
He notices you watching him, gives you an apologetic look and says he'll take care of it.
He makes a quick call and in comes 26 guys, one after the other and they line up in front of him.
You know it's exactly 26 because you counted all 26. And you've also watched all 26 pairs of dirty shoes trample over your previously nice clean floor.
The blood drippy guy asks politely for the mop and bucket and you think this must be some sort of prank because why the hell is this even necessary. 26 guys to share your one solitary mop and bucket and to clean a goddamn floor that you managed in 10 minutes.
"Get out." He blinks at you, taken aback by your tone. "Or I'm calling the police."
.
.
"You can bring your pups in!" You call out to the emo teen lurking outside.
Health and safety be damned because look how fucking cute these dogs are!
He hesitates but then the rain grows heavier and all three rush in.
You miss the suspicious glance he gives you, too fixated on how adorable the dogs are. You don't even mind their wet fur or muddy paws because look at these little babies!
And huh, this guy must really love them too with his, you squint, God? Dog? hoodie on. D'aww that's so stinking sweet.
.
.
Damnit, you knew these two would be trouble the moment they stepped foot into your store.
The tall blonde just gives off a distinct creepy vibe and the shorter one has his entire eyebrows shaved off.
Shaved. Off.
You couldn't help but stare when you put their purchases through and noticed some regrowth and stubble. Is this a trend you missed out on? Either way you're glad because there's no way you're shaving off your own eyebrows.
They converse in Japanese, not even saying a word to you. No thanks or anything, which is fine you suppose. But then they pay you in fucking yen.
They're out the door by the time you see the cash and fuck. Your boss is going to go apeshit when he finds out.
.
.
"What do you think, sweetheart?"
A new blonde guy addresses you tonight and for crying out loud, you just want a quiet shift.
What do you think of his white suit? With the garish LV logos? That it's tacky as fuck. That anyone with any sort of taste would never ever wear that. You keep your actual thoughts to yourself and instead just say it's fine.
That does nothing to subdue the blonde. He does stop talking to you though, and just mutters bitterly under his breath. You catch the words blind and tasteless.
His partner smirks at your response.
And isn't that a whole other kettle of fish because it's currently 2am and you're indoors and who the hell wears sunglasses right now. You think he's a douche of the highest calibre.
The smirk is wiped from his face when he asks for cigarettes and you ask for ID. He doesn't have it on him.
"No can do. No ID, no sale."
He leans aggressively into your space, and reveals his eyes peering over his sunglasses.
My god, what is up with this duo? One with the tacky suit, and this one with the ugly black contact lenses.
You don't budge and the guy is dragged out by the blonde cackling.
Ugh. That laugh gives you a headache for the rest of your shift.
.
.
You really wish customers would stop involving you in their conversation.
This one, who looks exactly like how you would imagine a SoundCloud rapper that has their mother following them and no one else, asks you to listen to his music.
He insists that he's good as the blonde girl rolls her eyes.
You listen to about 10 seconds and make up your mind.
He's wrong. He's very wrong. You want to suggest he gets checked out at the doctor because clearly his ears aren't working properly.
Instead, you mention you like Duke Pyeon, he's more your taste. Has he heard of him? It's the wrong thing to say though because this guy looks angrier than you've ever seen anyone.
"Don't start Vin, I've seen you listening to his music." The girl scoffs.
'Vin' shouts in indignation and storms off with his friend trailing closely behind.
.
.
"Can I help?" You ask with your customer service voice and customer service smile.
He has been standing in front of the hair dyes for a good ten minutes as his friend looks increasingly bored and you can't blame him.
"No thanks, I'm just browsing," he responds and you tell him you'll be just over there if he needs anything.
You kill some time playing on your phone, look up, and both of them are still in the exact same spot.
The one with the H on his neck looks about ready to tear his hair out.
"Come on bro, just pick one!"
"No Warren, this is important. I need it to suit my new aesthetics."
You shrug and return back to your kitty kat restaurant game.
.
.
"Cool glasses," you tell the guy walking around the store and he looks affronted at first before realising you're being sincere and gives you a small smile instead.
You wonder if you can pull off orange tinted glasses too or whether you'd just look like an idiot. It's probably the latter you decide when you ring up his energy drinks.
"I'm a boxer," he offers, as if you're judging the amount of caffeine he's going to slam down.
"Ok?"
"I need it for my training."
"Sure."
You've seen weirder purchases and weirder combinations. The people coming in looking frantic and buying a single plunger or pack of toilet paper never fails to make you chuckle.
To be honest the amount he's buying is a bit nuts, and you wonder if he's going to drink it all in one go. You probably wouldn't sleep for a year if it was you.
"Enjoy your training," you say, heaving and handing over the bag of 19 cans.
.
.
A mute blonde gestures at you
You try to use some sign language, but he looks at you as if you're crazy. At least you think he does but you can't see his eyes.
Somehow you're able to decipher he's lost his dogs. Four. Golden retrievers. And he asks if you have seen them.
(Huh. Do you have telepathy? Do you have the gift?)
You tell him no and he sprints out.
You spend the rest of your shift trying to move things with your newly discovered psychic powers.
Spoiler: you have zero powers. Zilch.
.
.
You think you might be having a stroke.
Because on what planet did this K-pop idol think the disguise would work. Cap and mask on but tufts of pink hair poking out and dressed completely in white.
It's like he's asking for attention and for people to ooh and aah over who that could be.
As he leaves, you shout that you can't wait for his next album. He turns around in complete shock that you recognised him, as if you solved the world's hardest puzzle.
It's a good job that DG has such a pretty face because what an idiot.
.
.
You hear two voices mention the words Daniel Park and your ears perk up, wondering if it's about your old colleague.
Nah. You're just being silly. It's not an uncommon name at all and too much of a coincidence.
"I haven't seen Daniel in ages! Have you heard from him, Zoe?"
"No," you see her friend shake her head from the corner of your eye.
The brown haired girl tilts her head in thought, "I wonder how Zack is doing too. I haven't seen him in so long."
"Ohhh~ you miss him!"
"O-of course I do! He's a friend!" She blushes bright red and you chuckle to yourself.
'Friend', sure.
For the rest of the shift, you reminisce about how you used to tiptoe around your feelings with your boyfriend, Taehoon, too.
784 notes · View notes
oscar-wilde-thing · 6 months
Text
Four years ago I sat in a psychiatrist's office. I was explaining why a certain Cognitive Behavioral Therapy technique felt impossible.
"If I don't think I know how a social interaction is going to work out, if I don't know the pattern, I can't do it."
The Dr nodded, and we moved on.
A few sessions later, she said she didn't think she could work with me anymore.
Great, I thought to myself. I'm being dumped by my therapist.
"I don't think I can work with you, because I think you're autistic."
I literally felt my world shift underneath me.
She explained more, about social interactions, about hyper sensitivity, about pattern recognition and anxiety and early-life academic achievement. I did end up stopping treatment with her, I don't really remember why. But I held that suggestion in my head.
The end of 2019 was rocky- working retail around the holidays is its own special hell, and my grandmother died in December of that year.
Then 2020 happened. COVID and isolation and protests and my workplace unionizing. Through all of that I was reading, and watching videos, and researching. About how autism and neurodivergency presents differently in girls and AFAB people. How the research is incredibly outdated and mostly focused on white, middle class boys. How getting a diagnosis as an adult, let alone an AFAB adult, is a fight.
I kept trucking along, learning new ways to cope. Figuring out that sometimes what I had thought were anxiety attacks was actually sensory overload. That my penchant for spreadsheets and what I called my "encyclopedic nerd brain" were probably hyper fixations.
It took 4 years.
4 years, 8 more mental health professionals, a mental breakdown, a month in residential mental health care, and 5 more months in acute daily mental health care, but today, at 12:55PM, I was officially diagnosed with Autism.
I'm sitting here at my desk weeping because I'm both so happy and so angry. Happy that there's a reason I feel the way I feel, that there's a reason why the world seems so harsh, that there's a reason why I sometimes physically can't talk and a reason why certain foods and sounds and textures make me want to crawl out of my skin. But I'm also so angry that it took 26 years for anyone to see. That it took another 4 years for me to get any answers. That there are countless other little girls and adult AFABS like me out there who feel like they're doing everything they're supposed to but not getting what the world tells them they should be getting.
My life has changed. Or maybe it hasn't changed. Maybe a door has opened that had never been seen before.
I'm not sure how to wrap this up.
I just know that learning more about myself is rarely a bad thing. And now that I know this big piece of who I am, I'll be able to go forward and learn more ways to exist in this world as an autistic person.
335 notes · View notes
idlerin · 10 months
Text
Tumblr media
THEY’VE GOT NO IDEA ABOUT ME AND YOU — sakusa kiyoomi one-shot smau
Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media
you and sakusa kiyoomi have been competing with each other since your first year when for the first time in your life, someone beat you at academics (something you based your self esteem on).
you developed a begrudging crush on him in your second year when you realized he wasn’t that bad when the two of you stayed late in the classroom and you had a breakdown and instead of telling you to suck it up like you expected he would, he wiped your tears with his handkerchief and calmingly brushed your hair away from your face (he still called you a dummy tho).
it was in your third year when sakusa (with a flushed face) asked you out while you were ranting about how you were going to outrank him in the next semester as well. you were so shocked it took you too long to answer and he stomped away annoyed (you ran after him and held his hand which made both of you blush— you guys did go on a date the following day).
once you made things official, you both have agreed to keep it a secret (mostly cause you didn’t know how to tell everybody, sakusa didn’t really care, but you do, so he cares by default). none of your friends know about your romantic relationship with your academic rival who you swore you hate so much. not even your childhood best friends, kenma and kuroo, knew. for kiyoomi, motoya didn’t know (but sakusa knows motoya has his suspicions).
you talk about sakusa all the time in your priv (which is an acc just for you, but ever since dating him you’ve let his account in).
Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media
the following day, sakusa was more aware of his surroundings— and glared at poor yuu a lot who didn’t know what he did to upset sakusa.
it took you a while to notice but when you eventually do, you laughed so hard your friends thought you were crazy. later on at lunch you coddle sakusa (and tease him also) but your laughs were contagious and he gave in after a while and even let out a small smile.
that small smile diminishes later on in the next period where you guys end up arguing— which was normal, what wasn’t normal was when “yuu” raised his hand and sided with sakusa’s point. which made sakusa mad, because why the hell would anyone disprove your point? you made sense! sure he was arguing with you too, but he wasn’t saying you were wrong, he’s just saying there’s more to it than that. (he’s the how-dare-you-disagree-with-my-gf boyfriend)
Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media
unlike our [name], sakusa has surprisingly healthy study habits despite juggling volleyball and academics.
[name] does indeed do better in the exams, with a point difference but still.
they go on a movie date after! motoya was looking for kiyoomi everywhere.
[name] accidentally sees kuroo and kenma in the mall when their date was about to end. they saw a glimpse of sakusa and thus, confirmed, [name] really wasn’t delusional.
Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media
kenma was following [name]’s phone in life360 and stumbled upon her sweetly feeding sakusa kiyoomi— the same person she’s been ranting about for years— while kissing his cheek. it grossed him out but not enough to not take a picture.
motoya signed kiyoomi up for the date auction for fun (kiyo currently has the most biddings).
you irritatedly dug out your wallet and tossed your bag to kiyoomi’s lap and ran.
Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media
a/n — apologies for zero nonsense updates i needed to get this out of my system!! (and a lot happened, one being i fINALLY finished jhs hello 3 weeks of freedom before i go back to school)
general taglist + @renardiererin @giyuus0nlywife @luvrsthrist @cherries4denki @cloud-lyy @misscaller06 @noideawhothatis @wolffmaiden @rivaiken @wooasecret @weird0o0 @eclecticlandmughoagie @gokm1023 @bitchotine @nicerthanu @sukunasrealgf @ris-krispie
620 notes · View notes
malum-forev · 11 months
Text
Co-Parenting
Tumblr media
*
Summary: Co-Parenting is always tough, especially with the man you thought you'd be spending the rest of your life with. Now add a super soldier.
Pairing: ExHusband!TFATWS!Bucky x Reader
Her foot impatiently tapped on the floor as she sat straight as an arrow on her couch, had she done everything already? Dusted the tables, done, washed the clothes, done, organized the fridge, done twice. (Y/n) looked down at her watch and huffed. 
“They should be here any minute now.” She said to herself while smoothing down her skirt. 
(Y/n) had gone to enough therapy and read way too many self-help books after her divorce to not know that this was just her brains way of controlling the situation. The only thing wrong with her defense mechanism was that there’s no way of controlling co-parenting with the man you thought you’d be spending the rest of your life with. 
--
Bucky had met (Y/n) through Sam’s sister, Sarah had insisted on setting him up with a friend once she heard Sam say he was ready to start dating. 
“I never said I wanted to be set up on a blind date.” Bucky groaned through the phone, the three-way call was obviously not his idea but he was too afraid of Sarah to not answer. 
“What did you expect us to do? Set up your Tinder profile?” Sam’s laugh resonated through the tiny speaker. 
“I’ve heard of people having successful relationships from the Tinder.” Bucky said. “And the internet thing will help me take it slow.”
“You are so not ready for Tinder.” Sarah said. 
And she was right because the moment Bucky saw you sitting at the bar of the restaurant, he knew. Before he met you, Bucky said he didn’t believe in love at first sight because that meant you were only judging a person by their physical appearance but when he saw you, he knew it was real. The emotions he felt were much more than because you looked beautiful, it was like a gravitational pull. You were a magnet. 
--
“Yes! Yes! A thousand times yes!” Sam wiped a fake tear as he pitched his voice up. It was a year later and Bucky was practicing his proposal with the only person who knew about it. Sarah could not be trusted with a secret this classified. 
Bucky stood up from his knelt position with a groan. “You think she’ll like it?”
“I’m not completely sure why she likes you but you’ve been clearly doing something right.” Sam patted his friend on the back. “Just do what you do best and she’ll say yes.”
“I don’t think she can tell the engagement story if I propose when I’m doing what I do best.” Bucky said with a smirk.
“And that’s my cue to leave.” 
--
Everything was going well, two years into the marriage was when Peanut came in. A beautiful baby girl that had Bucky wrapped around her tiny finger. Peanut was like a little tornado that went through the Barnes’ household, some days were easy and other days- well that’s where the problems came in. 
Sam first noticed it at Peanut’s third birthday party. He saw (Y/n) rush in and out of the house, decorations were still being put up and the serving platters with the appetizers were running low. 
“Shouldn’t Dad be helping Mom out?” Sam asked approaching Bucky on the dock of the house they’d bought.
The small ripples and the tranquil sound of the lake had eased Bucky’s nerves just to be altered again by Sam’s words. 
“I’m only in charge of holding up the pinata.” Bucky shrugged his shoulders. “Direct orders from the missus.”
“(Y/n) looks like she’s about to have a mental breakdown over cupcakes, I think you should go over there and ask if she needs any he-“
“Well I think you should mind your own business Sam.” Bucky said flatly. 
Sam’s eyebrows shot up at his friend’s words and Bucky cursed at himself. 
“I’m sorry it’s just-“ He tried to backtrack but it was too late. Sam got the message and he held his hands up.
“You’re right, it’s your marriage.” Sam said sternly. 
--
Only a year after that, (Y/n) and Bucky settled the divorce. It hadn’t come as a shock to her, and honestly she’d been thinking about it for some time before he mentioned the D word (and not the one she wanted to hear). They settled out of court and that was that. (Y/n) kept the house and the cat, and he got a pretty flexible schedule for his time with Peanut. 
That was that, six years of being together was supposed to be erased with one single signature. Bucky had stopped trying and (Y/n) had stopped waiting for him to do something. 
So now, at least two times a month, she was here. Waiting for the minutes to pass until it was 5pm. 
Alpine started purring once she heard the muffled voices coming from the other side of the door. 
“Of course momma’s gonna be home, silly goose.” Peanut’s small voice said before the doorbell rang. 
(Y/n) rushed to the door, waited a couple of seconds and took three deep breaths before she opened, not wanting to look like she’d been waiting by the door for an hour. 
Will I ever stop getting butterflies when I see him? She wondered. 
But she already knew the answer, no. Bucky had aged like fine wine, sure he had a couple of grey hairs here and there but he still looked amazingly handsome. And seeing him picking their daughter up so she could reach the doorbell- an activity Peanut thought was incredible and groundbreaking- sent her hormones into overdrive. 
“Momma!” Peanut yelled, wrapping her tiny arms over (Y/n)’s shoulders as she knelt down. 
“Hi P! How was your weekend?” (Y/n) asked her, taking in the strawberry scent her shampoo had at her dad’s house. 
“It was amazing! Uncle Sam was there and he showed me all the new planes they have, I got to watch a movie where Daddy said they copied his fighting style.” She beamed. “I also got to practice fight with some of Daddy’s friends and they said I do it just like Daddy!”
Peanut rushed into the house and quickly climbed up the stairs. “Oh! I also got to swing with Spiderman!”
(Y/n) widened her eyes at Bucky, she was about to tell him off for letting their four-year-old daughter swing with a teenager but Peanut’s voice rang through the house.
“Daddy! You need to come up and see my new bed!” She yelled from her room.
“Saved by the bell.” Bucky winked and he too climbed up the stairs of the house they had shared. 
Bucky came down the stairs ten minutes later, heading towards the kitchen. 
“You’ve done some remodeling.” He said resting his hands on the counter. (Y/n) only hummed in response. 
“Do you need any money? Are you wanting to remodel more parts of the house?” He asked quietly. Although they were no longer together, Bucky had promised to take care of the woman who gave him the most priceless thing in the world, his daughter. 
(Y/n) shook her head. “I’m okay.”
Bucky nodded slowly, taking in the uncomfortable feeling his old house gave him. He’d bought it with the intentions of remodeling it, to give (Y/n) the house she’d always dreamed of. Bucky had started it, he fixed up the whole basement and the master bedroom but somewhere in the middle of it all he lost inspiration. He lost himself. 
“Are you going to tell me why you thought Peter was qualified to swing our daughter around the city?” (Y/n) raised her eyebrows. 
Bucky chuckled. “Swing is an overstatement and they were in the training room, not the city. I was there, supervising every move.”
“I’m glad she got to spend some time with you, P misses you when you’re on missions.” (Y/n) offered Bucky a small smile, the kind of smile he knew (Y/n) reserved for people who didn’t deserve her. The smile meant he had broken his family in two over something he cannot remember now.
“I miss her too.” Bucky’s voice cracked. “I miss you both.”
(Y/n) rubbed her tired eyes, wanting to unhear Bucky’s words. “You should go home, James.”
“I am home.” Bucky’s voice just above a whisper. 
(Y/n) shook her head. “This isn’t your home, not anymore.”
Her harsh words drove the knife deeper into his heart. 
“We can try-“ He started but was interrupted. 
“You have no right to come into my house after all you’ve done and say that we can try. I tried, for months. I switched up date night, I got a sitter, I asked what you wanted me to become-“ (Y/n) let out a dry laugh. “I started to think of ways I could change myself to be someone you wanted. But the problem is that you don’t know what you want James.”
“So don’t tell me we can try. Because I played the part, the person who wanted this relationship to work only for you to burn my efforts to the ground.” (Y/n)’s voice waivered. “So now the only thing that’s left to do is for you to leave.”
Bucky swallowed the lump in his throat and blinked back the tears. 
“I almost forgot,” (Y/n) sighed, opening one of the kitchen drawers and pulling out one of Bucky’s action figures Peanut had said she “needed to survive”, even though her father is the one who the plastic is modeled after. “P wanted you to take this so that when it’s career day at school she can tell her classmates what you do. Something about how the figurine has more value if it’s been on a mission.”
“When’s Career Day? Maybe I can-“ He tried again.
“You’ll be somewhere in Europe.” (Y/n) shook her head. 
Bucky looked down at the action figure, a model of what he was supposed to be. A protector. 
“I’ll see myself out.” He croaked. 
Pt. 2 Pt. 3
Hi hiii I know this is short but I just couldn't get Ex Husband Bucky out of my head. Hope you guys like it! <;3
As always pls like, reblog and comment if you do! <3
And don’t forget to ask a prompt for my 1k bingo game! 💖
tagged: @kpopgirlbtssvt @shara-ne @namelesssaviour
*Any gifs posted are not my own and I give the artist full credit.
674 notes · View notes
girls-alias · 4 months
Text
The Silent Type - Dean Winchester
Title: The Silent Type - Dean Winchester
Words: 1,325
Relations: Dean Winchester X Reader (Somewhat platonic)
TW: Swearing, arguing, violence.
Prompt:
I saw the clip of Sam arguing with John and it triggered me. 😂
Tumblr media Tumblr media
I rolled my eyes as I approached the arguing boys. We were stood at the side of the road as Sam screamed at John. The truth is I feel the same. John has been nothing but a pain in the ass since he turned back up. He seems to tolerate me because I'm naturally quiet. I've been hunting with Sam and Dean for a while now. I was hunting with Dean for a little while before Sam came back from Stanford.
Dean and I have a unique bond. A medium we were talking to said we were soul mates or twin flames. I don't really understand it but I feel it. I love Dean. I love him more than I love anything and I don't care if I never get to kiss him, I will be happy if he's smiling. The real smile that normally only I can give him. I know he feels it too, we openly tell each other we love each other and Sam still, even after almost two years, doesn't know if we're dating. To be honest, I don't think me and Dean know sometimes. We do couply things, like dates and cuddling and constantly being together but we don't kiss or have sex. It's just weird but I'm comfortable in it.
I think Dean and I work so well because I know I can tell him anything and he can tell me anything. I know all about his past and he knows all about mine. We seem like we can read each other, I always know how he's feeling even when we're apart. The time that came to mind was intense. I had woken up in the middle of the night, nothing had disturbed me, I hadn't had a nightmare I just woke up. Quick and startled. I was staying in a motel away from the boys while a wound healed. I called Dean instantly, and as soon as he answered I knew he was crying. We stayed on the phone all night. He told me everything that had upset him and I reassured him and calmed him down until he fell asleep on the phone to me.
Dean seemed to look at me as he stood beside Sam and John. He looked fed up with the argument, wanting it to be over. I sighed softly knowing they weren't hurting each other they were hurting Dean. I listened in as anger started to rise inside me that they were upsetting Dean. Dean seemed to glance at me, somehow knowing I was growing angry. He studied me a little before being distracted by the argument. Dean's afraid of me when I'm angry.
It's rare I ever get angry but when I do I'm the silent type. I don't scream or make threats. I stay silent until something knocks me over the edge and once I'm over the edge I usually am blacked out angry until Dean stops me. Dean learned slowly that he was the only thing that calmed me down, he had always been afraid to approach me when I was that angry but now he knows he can wrap his arms around me and I'll calm down within a second. He just has power over me and he says I do the same. He can be on the verge of having a mental breakdown but if I walk into the room he forgets about it. His mind goes completely blank.
I listened as Sam shouted at John, his anger coming out with ease as he raised his voice and his words were laced with venom.
"Last time we saw you, you said it was too dangerous to be together. Now out of the blue you need our help." Sam explained getting his anger started. "No, obviously something big is going on and we want to know what's going on," Sam shouted, not backing down. My eyes glared at John waiting for his response, Dean growing annoyed and upset by the argument.
"Get back in the car," John instructed but Sam almost scoffed.
"No," He exclaimed but John's jaw clenched.
"I said get back in the damn car," John threatened standing closer. Sam didn't back down.
"Yeah, and I said no," Sam said, the venom in his tone almost suffocating the air.
"Yeah, alright. You made your point tough guy. Look, we're all tired, we can talk about this later," Dean explained before forcing himself between them and pushing Sam back forcefully. I couldn't move as my anger seemed to paralyse me.
"This is why I left in the first place," Sam muttered under his breath.
"What did you say?" John asked annoyed, and approached them. My body moved without thinking, staying beside John.
"You heard me," Sam bit back.
"Yeah, you left. Your brother and I needed you and you walked away- You walked away," John argued, his voice raising as his anger escaped him.
"You're the one who said don't come back, Dad. You're the one who closed that door. You were just pissed off that you couldn't control me anymore," Sam shouted, they quickly gripped each other. Ready to start hitting. Dean forced his way between them.
"Stop it! Stop it. That's enough," Dean shouted as he managed to pry them off each other.
"I didn't raise you like this," John commented. I didn't have to look at Dean to know how he was going to be looking. His sorrow clouded his eyes, hurt furrowing his eyebrows, his bottom lip pulled between his teeth as he begged it not to quiver, tears threatening his eyes. I saw red.
I punched John in the side of the face. His cheekbone was possibly fractured from the force. Adrenaline spiked to the point I was blacked out, doing things without thinking. John hit the floor with a thud, holding his cheek as he looked up at me startled.
"You didn't raise him, Dean did. Dean did everything for both of you." I boomed, standing over John as he started to look at me annoyed but fear was in his eyes. "You ever disrespect Dean like that again and next time I won't hold back." I threatened, spitting the words as if the thought of it sickened me. "Either apologise to Dean, the man who was a child and was still a better father than you. Or get up and drive away before I'm cleaning your blood off my boots." I practically growled.
"You think I'm scared-" He couldn't finish his sentence as I raised my foot, soon bringing it down on his balls to squeeze them between my boot and the gravel road. He squealed, grunting as he seethed in pain.
"That wasn't an apology," I instructed, He gulped, and glared at me as he breathed quickly, anger rising in him. He looked at Dean, and I could see him smirking proudly beside me.
"I'm sorry, Dean." He said simply but I pushed my boot down a little harder. He exclaimed in pain quickly. "I'm sorry! I'm sorry I left you to raise Sam. I'm sorry I've been a shitty father. I appreciate everything you've done for this family." John rushed. I looked at Dean, and he bowed his head to me letting me know he was happy with the response. I lifted my foot, taking a step away from John.
"Get up, you look pathetic," I spat, rolling my eyes as I walked away to get back in the Impala. Dean rushed to hug me from behind. I melted into the hug instantly. My whole body calmed and I felt safe in his arms. He spun me around to face him, cuddling me back into his chest. I smiled as I hugged him back, his scent intoxicating me.
"I love you," He whispered as he kissed the top of my head. I smiled a little brighter at his words. We really were made for each other.
Masterlist
Working On
157 notes · View notes
lace-coffin · 4 months
Note
Hello! Could you please write something about The Collector (Asa Emory) who falls madly in love with fem!reader who lives a very lonely life? At first the man begins to stalk the reader, but one day he still decides to kidnap her and brings her to his den in order to give her a happy life that she truly deserves. Thank you so much!🦋🌺💖
Asa Emory x lonely!fem!reader
Tumblr media
Requests are open!
I really hope you like this! Thank you a bunch for the request I love writing for this silly little guy !
You could try convince yourself that your life wasn’t mundane but…let’s be honest. It’s the same in and out, wake up, drag yourself to uni running on a cup of shitty instant coffee, try keep your eyes open and focus on said lecture, grab something quick to eat on the way home and then rot in bed until it’s time to sleep and start the cycle all over again.
It wasn’t like you didn’t have any friends, well not many but that’s beyond the point. You just don’t see each other much, always busy with university or work, god knows you don’t have the energy to meet up on your free days anyway. Keeping up relationships was always a struggle for you and it felt easier to just quietly drift.
Despite this you still get lonely, it can be an isolating existence when the only people you interact with daily are your lecturer and maybe the shop staff. Unfortunately narrating to yourself at home doesn’t count as company.
Little did you know that your lecturer had taken interest in you, he didn’t really have reason to in your mind, but to Asa you were different, reclusive and usually quiet, didn’t answer many questions but usually knew the answers when asked.
You stood out to him despite your best efforts to blend into the background noise of the class. Asa loves to dissect people like you, he finds there’s often more under the surface than you expect, maybe a reason for their timidness, or an unexpected shady social life. This is why Asa is currently keeping a good distance between you as you go about your day, lurking just far enough as not to raise suspicion but close enough to study you like a bug under a lens.
This was not the case for you. Asa couldn’t help but feel a little disappointed, instead of some shady back alley business or home drama he just witnessed a depressingly mundane day. Maybe you would meet a friend after uni? Maybe you would come home to a lover? Maybe you would have a fun hobby? None of those things.
Asa watched through the blinds as you sling a microwave meal in and slouch at the table, resting your head on the cheap wooden surface and groaning in defeat. To be honest Asa was bored out of his mind, having been trailing you for the entire evening and witnessing nothing of interest. After you lay in bed and start having some kind of breakdown, Asa thinks he’s seen enough, deciding to leave.
Later in the evening Asa can’t stop wondering about you, surely you can’t be content living like that, a young women like you should be in your prime years, eating at cute cafe’s with your friends and partying on the weekends, right? At least that’s what Asa thinks the 20 somethings are doing these days, he’s to old for this.
This won’t do, it’s not like you’re an unpleasant person, always an angel in his lectures but keeping to yourself, the way you move to put your hand up to answer questions but pull it back in shyness is endearing to Asa. Sometimes he asks you anyway because he feels you deserve to be heard.
After a few weeks and a couple more days of watching you, you wake up contorted into a box. Fantastic. You go through the motions as all captives do, the hysterics, crying, pleading, fighting and bolting. Usually this part is the most inconvenient for Asa. He’s never threatened by it, knowing well that he’s the one in control. With you he can’t help but want to coo and tell you everything will be ok if you’re good for him. Maybe he’s getting soft. Or maybe you just have that effect on him.
Time passes, a few months maybe, and things are better. Your body has softened out a little from your masters insistence on you eating good balanced food, a healthy glow in your cheeks and a little extra fat on your curves. You still attend lectures at the uni only now you’re arriving with Asa and parting ways until class starts, not wanting to raise any suspicion. It turns out it’s a lot more helpful to just have your tutor at home if you get stuck with work, Asa loves teaching you anyway, getting to talk about his special interest to his favourite pet? Beautiful.
On your free days you visit restaurants and events together, the way your face lights up when you try a new yummy food or find a cute trinket tugs at your owner’s heart. Sometimes you think about how you could just run now and not look back, easily lost in the sea of people at the market, however the idea no longer appeals like it did months ago. Given the choice you wouldn’t want to leave anyway, tied to your master so deeply by now. Call it love or Stockholm syndrome, you don’t care anymore, your days finally feel more like a new opportunity and not a burden. You look forward to weekends again, Asa jokes an old man like him isn’t the best company but you wouldn’t want to spend the time with anyone else.
This is how it should be, how it should’ve always been. Asa thinks, as he unclasps your collar for the night. enjoying the pleasant hum you let out as he massages your neckline, rubbing his coarse hands over it gently, tracing the faint red lines the display of his ownership left behind. “Let’s get you to bed cricket” Asa says softly, scooping you up and depositing you onto your shared king bed. You waste no time in snuggling into his soft fuzzy tummy once he’s stripped off his day clothes and settled into bed. With one last chaste kiss to the forehead Asa leans over and turns off the lamp, draping his arms over you. “Goodnight cricket, I love you” “night sir, love u” you mumble back, already half asleep.
160 notes · View notes