#ignored all her calls and texts and Letters even | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

sinofwriting · 8 months

Text

please, oh please - Max Verstappen

Words: 1,041 Summary: Max wishes she would just show up without him having to invite her. Note(s): Sugar Daddy!Max (though it’s not really said), Needy Max, Max is the definition of fell first and harder in this. No dialogue (i’m just as shocked as everyone else, that is my thing), also this is inspired by @theemporium and all of her wonderful blurbs and asks (and all the ones recently about sugar daddies, I’m living for them).

Taglist | Masterlist | Patreon

The point of contention in her and Max’s odd relationship had never been money like some people thought (despite money being the reason they even met and the slight foundation to their relationship). It was boundaries or rather Max wanting her to ignore every single boundary.

It wasn’t enough for him to be paying for her apartment, other bills, and giving her a hefty allowance that she either never really touched or spent it all on some charity he had never heard of until he was getting a letter thanking him for his donation. He could still remember the redness on Marko’s face when the PR team had burst into a meeting wondering why the IPPF was thanking Max for his generous fifty thousand donation. It wasn’t enough for her to come to nearly every other race, be on his arm for every event, to get dinner at least once a week when he was home in Monaco, to swap between staying at her apartment for a night and then having her at his. It wasn’t enough for him.

He wanted her in his apartment all the time. Wanted her there even when he was away and could barely talk for a minute. He wanted to come back from a run and she was still in bed waking up or in the kitchen wearing one of his shirts. Max wanted to come home to the dining table a mess from her collages and his printer no longer in his office but on the kitchen counter as she prints photo after photo out for them. But she doesn’t and it’s a point of contention.

He had given her a key to his apartment six dates into their arrangement, had given the front desk a picture of her and put her and only her on the list of people that were allowed to come and go from his place without a call or text being made to him. In the six months since then she hadn’t used the key once.

She refused to stay at his place if he wasn’t there. If after she stayed the night he left to go on a run or to nip to the shops, she’d leave, go back to her stuffy apartment. She wouldn’t go to his when he was gone for a race or at the factory despite his insistence that she could come and go as she pleased. No matter how many times he reminded her of the key he had given her or how much space she could have to storyboard and dance around. But still nothing.

So he knows what to expect when he comes home from a race weekend without her, the second one in a row, because inspiration had struck her and even though she constantly complained about barely being able to focus at her apartment due to thin walls and loud neighbors (he had nearly whined when she had mentioned it off handedly the last time, nearly begged her to use the key to stay at his or at least work at his), she couldn’t focus with all the people, fans, and press. It was always amusing to him that it wasn’t the sounds of the cars or the garage, all the engines and mechanical whirring, but the people that made her lose focus.

He knows that when he comes home, he’ll come home to a dining table with nothing on it, a living room with no pile of blankets piled on the floor in front of the coffee table, no mused sheets from someone sleeping in his bed. He knows that but it doesn’t stop his heart from being heavy and a large frown resting on his face as he unlocks his apartment door.

Wheeling in his two suitcases, he shuts the door, locking it before staring at the suitcases. “Fuck it.” He murmurs, it was late, he was tired and been on a plane for most of the day. He could leave them here and deal with them tomorrow.

He sets his keys in the bowl for them as he toes off his shoes before walking out of the entryway only to stop as he steps into the living space.

There’s a mess of collages on his dining table, two notebooks and some pens as well. His printer was sitting precariously on the counter and when he glanced towards the living room there was a small nest of blankets in front of the coffee table and another notebook on the coffee table. It’s a scene out of his dreams and he can’t help but pinch himself, wanting to make sure it’s real.

He rubs at the reddened hurt skin as he smiles because she was here. No warning or mention of it despite having talked to her briefly before his flight took off. No cajoling her into or doing the begging he was sure he was going to have to do. She was here because she wanted to be here.

Max nearly jogs to the master bedroom, beaming when he walks in and sees her asleep in the middle of the bed clutching at his pillow. And he should shower, his body was sore from the plane ride and it was a little gross to get into bed after flying, but how could he not immediately get into bed with her. Even if the shower would just take five minutes.

Stripping out of his shirt and sweats, toeing off his socks and kicking them towards the hamper, he pulls back the duvet and gets into bed. A quiet sigh leaves him at the feeling of laying down in his bed. Turning his head to the side, he smiles again at how she’s clutching at his pillow. He carefully pulls the pillow out of her arms, putting it behind his own head before wrapping his arms around her and pulling her pretty much on top of him. She had frowned when he pulled the pillow away, but thankfully didn’t wake even when he moved her. Just letting out a little sigh before relaxing into him.

His last thought before he fell asleep was wondering if she’d finally realize that he wasn’t joking when he asked her to move in.

---

Tagging: @cixrosie @darleneslane @gemofthenight @copper-boom @lpab @peachiicherries @topguncultleader @benstormy @iloveyou3000morgan @boiohboii

#max verstappen x reader #max verstappen imagine #formula 1 x reader #formula 1 imagine #f1 imagine #f1 x reader

1K notes · View notes

e-hv · 2 months

Text

Why II

This is a repost cause i deleted all my fics

Major warning if you have mommy issues or daddy issues or parental neglect issues pls do not read this

and if you do read this pls don't blame me for anything, including but not limited to excessive crying/sobbing, a depression slump/ wanting to kill someone or anything else

Or if you're name Sarah

part 1

Alexia Putellas X Child!Reader

Tw: Negelct, Angst

Summary: Why did she not try

Why didn't I make the effort to acknowledge you, or even offer a simple greeting, when all you wanted was a moment of recognition?

Alexia was back from Elena’s high school graduation when she saw the Envelope on the dining table, mark with her name on it, she was going to open it when she realized it was your handwriting. She rolled her eyes thinking it was one of your notes, asking her to spend time with you or something similar. She threw the envelope into the bin and started looking through her email. The sky soon turned dark, she realized she hasn’t seen you since she came back which was unusual since you were always clinging to her like a lost puppy. She was going to order take out for both of you, when she recieved a text from Elena asking her if she wanted to celebrate her graduation with dinner, she texted her back saying yes, and called you to come down so she could give you money for your dinner. When you didn’t reply her or rush down she just left the money on the counter and went out for dinner. When she came back the lights were still on, she thought nothing of me until she saw that the money she left you was left untouched. She walked up stairs and open the door, noticing your barren room. She decided to call you, but all she heard was,

"Thank you for calling. The number you have reached has been disconnected or is no longer in service. We apologize for any inconvenience this may cause. Please check the number and try your call again. Thank you.”

Since when did your number change she thought, she wanted to ask your friends if they knew where you were but she realized she didn’t even know who they were. Then she remembered the letter that she envelope that she threw to the bin,

When she opened the envelope and read the letter, she felt empty she didn’t know why, she thought would be happy wouldn’t she after all she had been pushing you away all this time. So she set the letter down, change into her evening gown and went to sleep. But as the weeks past, she felt the empty feeling grow into a pit in her heart. She started missing the notes you left, the way you would smile when she talked to you, the warmth of your presence in the house. She missed the little moments that she had taken for granted.

As more a month flash by she started trying to look for you after all you couldn’t have gotten that for right. She decided to go to your room trying to find anything that could lead her to where youu went instead she found, a book, she then remebered that in your letter you wrote that you were excited that you made it into the school's football team. When she first read it she was confuse as she never remembered you even taking an intrest in football. But after she saw the book she realized you did indeed tell her you make it to the football team, it was also the day she was supposed to fetch you from school as you had been begging her to for a long time, so she just said yes. Hoping you would stop pestering her, she didn’t fetch you that day, and instead of giving you an explanation, she just ignored you when you told her your exciting news, and told you she would talk about it over dinner, which she also missed.

She then remembered all the other times you tried talking to her, yet she just regarded you as a pest, wanting you to just stop. How she regrets it now, as all she wanted was for you to come back through the front door and hug her telling her you change your mind. And she would make up for all the times she dismissed you. However it didn’t happen you didn’t walk in, the house was still missing your presence, and the emptiness lingered in every corner.

Alexia couldn't shake off the overwhelming guilt that consumed her. She realized how she had neglected you, how she had failed to offer even a simple acknowledgment of your existence, let alone celebrate your achievements and share in your excitement.

As she sat in your barren room, holding onto the book that held a piece of your excitement and dreams, she couldn't help but feel the weight of her own shortcomings as a mother. She wished she could turn back time, to undo the hurt she had caused you, to be the supportive and loving mother you deserved.

But no amount of regret could change the fact that you were gone, that she had lost the chance to make things right. The realization hit her like a wave, crashing down on her with a force she couldn't bear.

Tears streamed down Alexia's face as she clutched onto the book, her heart aching with the longing for your presence, for another chance to show you that she cared.

Why did I neglect the most fundamental tasks you asked of me, yet expect you to readily assist me in my every request?

She was still trying to look for you when she, reread your letter for the hundred time, she read the part where you said that you asked if you could go to the arcade with your friends and that you’ve always bent over backwards to fulfill her every request. She recalled the times, she would asked you to help her buy things before and during team building and didn’t even ask you if you wanted to join, instead reminding you that you had to help her clean up after it ended. She then remembered all the times you ask her if she could go to the beach with you, or attend your concert or events and she said she was busy.

She remembered how she always seemed to prioritize her own needs and desires over yours, expecting you to readily assist her in every request without considering your own wishes and feelings.

The weight of her negligence and selfishness hit her like a ton of bricks. She realized how she had taken you for granted, how she had failed to see the love and effort you were pouring into your relationship with her, only to be met with indifference and neglect in return.

Alexia's heart ached with the realization of her own hypocrisy. How could she have expected you to be there for her when she couldn't even spare a moment to acknowledge your needs and desires?

Why couldn’t she had just try to make time for you maybe then you would still be here with her, she thought as she was holding back tears telling herself she didn’t deserved to feel sad as it was all her fault.

Why was I consistently absent from your most significant moments, offering nothing but hollow excuses in return?

Alexia now had a routine go to training or a match and comeback home to try to look for you. The only times it ever change was when she had an away game even then, she checked the camera that she installed in the front door ( incase you came back and she wasn’t there) religiously. When she checked her phone she saw a message from Elena, she ignored it as now every time she saw it she saw a message from her she only remembers the fact that she missed your primary school graduation even though she promised you. Or the fact she always said that she had to help Elena with something and missed your milestones and important moments. She remembered all the reasons she thought was good reasons that now she realized was pitiful excuses.

All the times she said she was busy, and the way your eyes dimmed but you still hugged her and said it was okay. She wondered how much she hurt you but didn’t realized or more accurately was to busy to care.

And you... why didn't you question me when I stopped paying attention to you?

She found a photo album titled 2019 summer road trip, she didn’t remember going on any road trip before, when she opened the album she saw a photo of you in a car, she then remembered of the week she didn’t see you at all. And when she did you asked her if she wanted to ask you anything and she just ignored you thinking it was one of your antics. Turned out you had gone on a road trip for a week, and she didn’t even realized. She wondered why you didn’t ask her if she notice but you did in fact try to, as she vividly remembers you trying to tell her something but she just tuned it out and focused on her phone.

The weight of her neglect weighed heavily on Alexia as she flipped through the album, each photo a painful reminder of the moments she had missed, the moments she had failed to share with you.

She recalled the times you had tried to reach out to her, to question her absence, but she had brushed you off, too preoccupied with her own affairs to spare a moment for you. The guilt gnawed at her insides as she realized how much she had hurt you, how much pain she had caused with her indifference and neglect.

Alexia couldn't understand why you didn't push her more, why you didn't demand her attention and question her absence. She knew deep down that you deserved so much more, that you deserved a mother who would be there for you, who would prioritize your needs and desires above all else.

But instead, she had failed you time and time again, offering nothing but hollow excuses in return for your longing for recognition and acknowledgment.

As she sat there, surrounded by memories of the moments she had missed, Alexia couldn't help but feel a profound sense of regret. Regret for the time lost, for the moments she could never get back, for the love and attention she had failed to give you.

What actions of mine led you to accept the disdain from me , your own flesh and blood, to endure such neglect?

What exactly crossed my mind when I opted to engage with her instead of you, my own daughter?

Alexia couldn’t help but ask herself what exactly did she do to make you accept her negelct like it was normalcy, and maybe it was to you. Her mind settled on to the memory where she believed Elena over you, and scolded you for something you probably didn’t do. She then recalled the fact she had took the necklace back from Elena planning to give it back to you when you apologized. You never did, and that was a blessing in disguised. She rummaged around her drawer for the necklace and when she found it, she knew she didn’t give it to you that’s when she remembered in your letter it stated that you found someone that treated you like her own daughter, who was there for you when she wasn’t. She shouldn’t feel sad, angry or jealous that you relied on that women instead of her but as she held the necklace in her hands, engraved with the word "Princesa" and signed by someone named L.W., Alexia couldn't help but feel a pang of jealousy towards this mysterious figure who had seemingly filled the void in your life that she had left gaping open.

She realized that she had pushed you away, prioritizing her own desires and relationships over nurturing the bond she had with you. The memory of scolding you based on Elena's words instead of listening to your side of the story haunted her, knowing now that it was a pivotal moment where she had failed you.

And as she sat there, clutching the necklace that symbolized the connection she had failed to maintain with you, Alexia couldn't help but wonder why she had chosen to engage with others instead of prioritizing you, her own flesh and blood.

She knew that her actions had led you to seek comfort and acceptance elsewhere, to find comfort in someone who treated you like their own daughter when she had failed to do so.

But even amidst the guilt and regret, Alexia realized that she couldn't change the past. All she could do now was acknowledge her mistakes, learn from them, and strive to be a better mother to you, even if it meant starting from scratch and earning back your trust and love.

And as tears welled up in her eyes, Alexia made a silent vow to herself – to never again neglect the most fundamental task of being a mother, to always prioritize you above all else, and to make up for the lost time and opportunities she had squandered in the past.

And despite the pain and letdowns I've inflicted, why did you persist in holding onto hope that I would come through for you

Despite the pain and letdowns she had inflicted, Alexia couldn't help but wonder why you persisted in holding onto hope that she would come through for you. It was a question that haunted her as she grappled with the realization of how much she had failed you, how much she had neglected to be the mother you needed and deserved.

When a parcel labeled for you arrived, Alexia couldn’t resist the urge to open it. Inside, she found a medal inscribed with the words "Copa Juvenil Estrella" – "Star Youth Cup." Confusion washed over her as she struggled to understand why you would receive a medal from one of the most competitive under-21 tournaments in Spain. It was then that the pieces of the puzzle began to fall into place.

She remembered the day of the tournament finals, the same day you had asked her to attend your football match. She recalled how she had brushed you off, claiming to be busy with her and Elena's training. It was a moment of realization that hit her like a bolt of lightning – she had prioritized her own interests over yours once again, and it may have been the final straw for you.

As Alexia connected the dots, she felt like burying herself six feet under. She couldn’t believe she didn’t know you were playing football much less knew you were playing it at such a high standard.

She wondered just what else she didn’t know about you. But she knew she could only hope that she’ll find you and that you’ll be able to forgive her so that you could build up your relationship again.

I just wish that one day I'll gather enough courage to ask for your forgiveness, and to find the strength to accept that you may never be there for me, regardless of how much I now yearn for your presence in my life

As Alexia was sitting down looking at her computer, a picture came up with you in her arms the day she adopted you and promised you she would love and take care of you forever. However all she did was the opposite, she remembered all the conversation’s or missed opportunities you had hinted at in your letter and, memories came rushing back to her,

“Mami, I made it into the school’s football team.”

The words barely registered as she mumbled a distracted response.

“But you promised you'd pick me up today.”

Your disappointment was palpable, "I know, sweetie, but something came up. The helper will take care of you," she said, barely sparing you a glance as I tried to focus on my task at hand.

As she watched you retreat to your room, she couldn't help but wonder why you seemed so upset. Didn't you understand that she had important things to attend to? Why couldn't you just be patient and wait for her to finish?

“Mami, can I go to the arcade with my friends? It’s the last day of school.”

She thought that you should help her with her teambuilding since you were her daughter after all.

"But I finished all my work."

Your insistence only added to her frustration. "I said no. End of discussion," I declared, my tone final as I brushed off your request. Didn't you understand that she had more important things to worry about than your petty desires?

"Why does she always choose someone else over me?"

As she watched you resign yourself to another night at home, she couldn't help but feel a twinge of annoyance. Why couldn't you just accept that she had my own life to live, her own priorities to attend to?

"Mom, why can't you come to my graduation?"

Your hurt was evident in your voice, but she couldn't afford to dwell on it. "I have a work commitment, sweetie," she replied, her words hollow .

"I didn’t do anything wrong, Mom."

Your protests fell on deaf ears as she refused to listen. "I don't want to hear it," she cut you off, her disappointment palpable as she struggled to come to terms with your perceived shortcomings.

All the things she thought about you and everything she said was what pushed you away. Each dismissive remark, each broken promise, each moment of neglect drove a wedge between you, widening the gap in your relationship until it became insurmountable.

As Alexia sat there, reflecting on her past actions and the impact they had on you, she couldn't help but feel a deep sense of regret and remorse. She wished she could turn back time, to undo the hurt she had caused, to be the mother you needed and deserved.

But she knew that she couldn't change the past. All she could do now was acknowledge her mistakes and strive to do better in the future. She realized that she needed to confront her own shortcomings, to learn from her mistakes, and to prioritize you above all else.

With tears streaming down her face, Alexia made a silent vow to herself – to gather enough courage to ask for your forgiveness, and to find the strength to accept that you may never forgive her, regardless of how much she now yearned for your presence in her life.

As she sat there, clutching onto the memories of the moments she had missed, a notification from Instagram interrupted her thoughts. The post was from Arsenal, and the caption read:

"Welcome to Arsenal, our new signing Y/N Williamson”

#angst #liquidation writes #woso soccer #woso fanfics #woso #woso community #fc barca femeni #womens football #woso imagine #alexia putellas angst #alexia putellas imagine #alexia putellas x reader #alexia x reader #alexia putellas

269 notes · View notes

gojos-fr-bae · 8 months

Text

Stood up

Pairing: Gojo x fem!reader

Genre: angst to fluff

Word count: 1.1k

Warnings: Cursing

Three hours.

You waited at that damn restaurant for three excruciating hours receiving a pitiful look from the waitress and you just couldn't handle it anymore.

Your precious boyfriend had let you sit there and feel embarrassment flood you every time you caught someone staring at you before whispering to their date.

He couldn't even bother bother to text or call nor reply to your texts or answer your calls. And as if this all isn't bad enough this wasn't the first but fourth time that month and you couldn't take it anymore.

It's been so long you two spent time together. He always arrived home when you were already asleep and left before you could wake. You were the only one even tying to keep you two together and you were so, so exhausted. You couldn't keep giving your everything to someone and receiving nothing in return, after all you're only human.

And so, driven by pain, you ignored your tears and painful sobs escaping your chest as you packed all your belongings and wrote one last letter to your soon to be former lover.

It hurt you so much to leave knowing you may never love anyone the way you love him, but you had to do this for your own sake and if that meant walking out that front door and not turning back then so be it.

It had been a week since you left the house you shared with the love of your life and you had received nothing but silence from his end, and yet today you woke up to 45 missed calls and so many messages from the bastard but you couldn't bring yourself to open them. You knew that if you listened to even one of the voicemails he left your resolve would crumble considering the texts you also received from his students begging you to speak to him and talking about how much of a mess he is.

You were scrolling through their messages when you barely heard the gentle knocking on the door over the rain outside. You had been staying at your friend's that night and as far as you were aware she was spending the night at her boyfriend's so you had no idea who'd be at the door.

You got up, groaning from the headache your crying had caused and began walking towards the door. You opened the door, breath catching at seeing Gojo standing on the other side of the door. He looked up at you and his eyes began tearing up. They were swollen, red and had bags, his cheeks sunken in slightly. It felt like a dagger was jabbed into your heart and was being twisted. You couldn't bare to see him looking so broken.

"H-hi" he whispered, looking at his feet and fidgeting with the hem of his shirt so that you don't see him breaking or hear how his voice cracks.

"Hi"

"May I- umm, may I c-co-come in?" this time you heard how his voice wavered."

"Goj-"

"Please, d-don't call me that"

"Come in" You said, finally noticing how much he was shivering, his hair and clothes soaked.

"Satoru, did you, walk here?"

"Walk, stand outside the building trying to gain the confidence to enter what's the difference?"

"Oh no, I'm so sorry let me get you some spare clothes, I hope I have something that can fit-"

"No no, that won't be necessary I don't plan on staying long."

"Well in that case uhm... how can I help you?"

There was a heavy silence between you two as you stood in the doorway, waiting for him to respond.

"P-please" he croaked, tears beginning to fall down his face, "Please take me back"

"Satoru don't-"

"I'm so, so sorry. I'm such a pathetic and useless boyfriend and It's completely my fault that we split up because I stood you up and hurt you and I know I don't deserve to be forgiven but I'm begging sugar cube please, I can't live without you"

"Satoru you constantly disregarded me and our relationship. You never spoke to me, constantly stood me up and never even bothered to apologise ONCE, It's like you never even loved me in the first place!" You shouted, feeling your tears begin to blur your vision.

"I know and I'm sorry! I feel like and absolute piece of shit but I LOVE YOU Y/N! I love you so much it hurts, I love you so much I almost have a heart attack whenever you smile! And I love you because you are the only one who ever made me feel like that, only one who ever told me that I would be ok who ever held me when I cried, no one else but you!"

"Even if you do I can't keep carrying this relationship alone Satoru! I can't be at peace unless I leave"

"BUT YOU PROMISED!! YOU PROMISED NEVER TO ABANDON ME! PROMISED TO NEVER BREAK MY HEART AND I BELIEVED YOU! I STILL DO SO PLEASE DON'T LEAVE ME LIKE EVERYONE ELSE!" You were both sobbing now.

"Satoru, even if I said yes, I know I would never be your first priori-"

"I quit!" He pressed out quickly, looking up to meet your eyes and lacing your hands in his.

"Wh-what"

"I quit at Jujutsu tech immediately after reading your letter a-and I realised that you were right. You were right about everything! I had neglected and mistreated you so much when you deserved none of it and I'm sorry."

You were stunned. flabbergasted even. You knew how important Gojo was to the Jujutsu world and so did he. You were pretty sure that the world would fall into chaos, he was the only person keeping things in balance. And he quit...for you"

"Satoru-"

"Before you say anything, don't worry about money. I already have tons and once I'm head of the clan it practically doubles so I can spoil you the way you deserve to be"

"Goj-"

"And I promise I'll work harder to make you happy. I know I really don't deserve it because I'm a worthless piece of-"

"SATORU GOJO WILL YOU LET ME SPEAK!"

"Yes ma'am" he said, almost in a whisper.

"Did you really quit for me?"

"Yes"

"Do you really love me? "

"More than breathing"

"And are you really going to change?"

"Anything for you"

"Then if we give this one more shot things will really be different?"

"Yes"

"Okay, then let's do it, I mean what's the worst that could happen?"

His face lit up up before he pulled you into a bone crushing hug, burying his head in the crook of your neck.

"Thank you so much, I love you"

"I love you more sweetheart"

"Eh, doubt it"

Yay

#gojo satoru #gojo #jujutsu gojo #gojo x reader #gojo fluff #gojo imagine #gojo saturo #gojo x you #gojou satoru x reader #jjk gojo #gojo satoru x reader #gojo angst #jujustu kaisen #satoru #gojo x reader argument

606 notes · View notes

r0ttenhearts · 7 months

Text

forgotten letters

xiao x reader

synopsis: after the fallout xiao attempts to apologize via letters

warnings; angst, no comfort, abandonment, one sided

xiao licked the top of the sticky envelope, the slight bitter taste on his tongue as he sealed the envelope. the anxious feeling welled up inside of him again. the same feeling he got when he was writing the letter to the one person he missed dearly. regretting every day that passed that he didn’t greet or see with that person. that person being, you. it wasn’t a lengthy letter, he didn’t want to bother you. especially after how the last meeting had gone with you.

all of his attempts to pour his regrets and frustration onto pen and paper laid balled up in the trash can in his room. so he started small, if you’d even respond that is.

he shook off the anxious feeling, sticking his painted hands into his pocket as he walked back home. now the hard part, waiting. waiting for a response, or waiting to get ignored.

his phone buzzed with a notification from his lover. the one who was to blame for this mess. as much as he tried to justify it, he blamed her for the falling out between himself and you. he was as much to blame, but he couldn’t admit to that. not when he still yearned for his touch.

some nights when he’d lay with his lover, he’d imagine it was you. only to remember it wasn’t when she opened her mouth and the sweet sounds coming out didn’t sound like yours. nothing like yours.

but he still smiled whenever he was with her. something you fought for, but never got to see.

he sighed, clicking his phone off. his dark teal hair hitting his pillow as he had finally made it home. not even his lover could comfort him, she wasn’t what he needed in the moment. he needed you. he needed to hear you whisper in his ear that he would be okay, that you would always be there. to feel the warmth of your hugs the few times he allowed you to touch him.

his eyes closed, drifting off to a distant sleep. the dark haired boy could only dream to find peace in his slumber. but he knew he only slept as much as he did to see you. you, before the end of your friendship with him.

“i don’t want anything to do with you.” xiao spoke sternly, standing at his door. he regretted the words as soon as they left his lips. the way your face crumbled as you stood on his doorstep, mouth open slightly in shock. “you don’t mean that, xiao.” you spoke calmly but your expression showed anything but.

“i do. i have a girlfriend now and i love her. i know you’ll only cling to me and cry if i keep you around. i don’t care to entertain this anymore.” xiao waved his hand dismissively as your tears began to fall.

“fine. if that’s how you want it to be, then so be it. but i don’t want you to ever contact me or look for me when you’re alone. what a waste.” you spoke coldly as you turned on your heel. the slam of xiao’s front door was all you heard as you angrily walked away. xiao fished his phone out of his pocket, pressing on the call button to his new girlfriends contact. “hey, sorry. i was just dealing with her..”

xiao woke up in cold sweat, his body shaking as the memories of that night came flooding back. though he had said goodbye to you, he regretted every moment he opened his door to see his girlfriend, not you. he spent nights dwelling on it. the way he had told you, the way he hadn’t cared to keep you in his heart.

he wasn’t sure if he felt anything for you. the thought of you with another man, holding another man the same way you did xiao, made him feel sick to his stomach. that thought would always make its way to the forefront of his mind whenever he woke up from a dream that served as a reminder for that night.

with a heavy sigh, he turned his phone on. 56 angry texts and 10 missed calls from his girlfriend, but it was a new day. xiao slipped on some shoes and made his way to the front of his house where his mailbox stood.

he had directly put the envelope into your mailbox, and he hoped you had done the same. he hastily pulled open the lid to the metal box, finding the same card he had inserted into your mailbox, but without the envelope. he flipped over the green paper, recognizing your handwriting.

his heart swelled with excitement and anticipation as his eyes scanned over the words in your familiar script.

taglist: @samarill @whorerificstuff @scara6 @darliingyu @gh0sts0up @foxlover1144 @xiaonscaraswife @linkookie197 @lelemnh @jaderose18 @saeism @dearsumire @astrolomona @sakiimeo

#genshin angst #genshin x reader #genshin x reader angst #xiao #xiao genshin x reader #xiao genshin impact #xiao x y/n #genshin xiao #xiao genshin #xiao angst #xiao angst genshin #xiao x reader angst #xiao x reader #xiao x you

491 notes · View notes

elliespassagerprincess · 6 months

Note

ohh i love your works smmm <3 can i request more loser ellie hc? fluff & nsfw <333

Headcannons: loser!ellie x reader

Part 1 Part 2

Sfw:

☆ Loser Ellie who took you stargazing on the second date.

There was no cloud in the sky as the two of you lay on the soft pink blanket Ellie brought. You were amazed by the stars, and Ellie was amazed by your beauty. She could stare at you for hours.

Ellie was lost in a trance before she heard your voice “what are you looking at?”

Ellie’s throat went dry. Her cheeks tinted pink, she’s been fucking caught.

“the air” she lied all you did was shake your head.

☆ Loser Ellie who refused to touch you because she was so shy. Even holding your hand scared her.

☆ Loser Ellie who had multiple accounts to stalk you because she was afraid that you might think she was weird for watching you every move.

☆ Loser Ellie who was too scared to make a move, and in the process she was pushing you away.

☆ Loser Ellie who didn’t touch you, who didn’t make eye contact with you and you truly felt unwanted.

☆ Loser Ellie who went to your house one night when she saw a picture of you kissing someone else.

She knocked on your front door. She was confused. Angry. Sad. Jealous.

The door opened and there you stood in all your glory.

“What the fuck do you want Ellie?” you asked with a huff.

Ellie’s gaze fell to the floor before she spoke in a whisper “who was she?”

“what?” you questioned

“who was she? The girl you kissed”

“that has nothing to do with you”

Ellie made eye contact with you for the first time in a long time

“it fucking does. We- i- I thought we had something”

“We have fucking nothing Ellie” you replied harshly

“you make me feel unwanted, and so I moved one”

You watched Ellie turn around to walk away and before you closed the door, she ran back to you, grabbing your face for a kiss.

She pulled away looking at you with wide eyes “I’m sorry” was all she said before she ran away.

☆ Loser Ellie who ignored your calls and texts.

☆ Loser Ellie who buys you things that she thinks you would like and she just kept it in her room hoping she’d get the guts to face you again.

☆ Loser Ellie who wrote you letter but she never sent them to you.

☆ Loser Ellie who tries not to cry when she sees pictures of you and other people.

☆ Loser Ellie who has a photo album dedicated to pictures that she thinks you would like. It was a collection of flowers, stuffed animals, memes just things that reminded her of you.

☆ Loser Ellie who loses her shit when she can’t find the letter she wrote you.

“Dina where’s the letters?” she yelled as she threw her clothes from her closet onto the floor.

“I gave it to her”

“what?”

“Ellie-“Dina sighed “you’re losing your fucking mind because of her, I had to do something”

☆ Loser Ellie who wasn’t even mad because you arrived at her apartment.

Before you could even open your mouth Ellie confessed:

“I’m in love with you”

you chuckled at her confession “I know els I read the letters”

And just like that you kissed her. It was a real kiss. Ellie didn’t want you to pull away but you had to tell her something

“in one of the letters you said that I’m the light in your life, that was very poetic” Ellie blushed before she replied

“yeah you are, but can I kiss you again?”

☆ Loser Ellie who asked you to be her girlfriend the next day with a poster because she couldn’t ask you the question.

☆ Loser Ellie who started punching the air when you said yes forgetting you were there. She was very embarrassed afterwards.

☆ Loser Ellie whose palms were so sweaty the first time you held her hand that you kept wiping your hands off.

☆ Loser Ellie who gains more confidence while being with you.

☆ Loser Ellie who has polaroids of you all over her room.

☆ Loser Ellie who has one of your sweaters that she sleeps with every night because she missed you and she was too scared to ask if you wanted to come over.

☆ Loser Ellie who waits at her phone for you to respond.

☆ Loser Ellie who doesn’t always text first because she doesn’t to annoy you.

☆ Loser Ellie who paints her nails your favorite color.

☆ Loser Ellie who secretly gets your initial tattooed behind her ear.

☆ Loser Ellie who buys you both matching outfits, bracelets, shoes, literally she wants to match everything with you.

nsfw:

☆ Loser Ellie who almost combusts when you wore lingerie for the first time.

“holy shit” she breathed when you walked out the bathroom.

“you like it?” you asked with a shy smile.

“I fucking love it, now come fuck me”

☆ Loser Ellie who’s a switch.

☆ Loser Ellie who likes when you ride her because she gets to suck your tits.

☆ Loser Ellie who loves it when she can leave hickeys on you (especially between your thighs)

☆ Loser Ellie who gets most of her pleasure from giving you pleasure.

☆ Loser Ellie who sucks your fingers after you made her cum multiple times.

☆ Loser Ellie who can stay hours in between your legs.

☆ Loser Ellie who’s scared to try new things.

“I want to try something new” she spoke one afternoon

“what?”

Suddenly Ellie went quiet. Should she really ask you?

“i- um- if you d-don’t want to its ok”

“Ellie talk”

“sit on my face please?”

☆ Loser Ellie who like it when you sit on her face. She could die this way honestly, being suffocated by you.

☆ Loser Ellie who keeps your underwear, and she has a whole collection.

☆ Loser Ellie who buys lingerie for you because she’d always imagine how’d you look wearing them.

☆ Loser Ellie who keeps the nudes you send her. She has a special folder.

☆ Loser Ellie who has polaroid’s of you in underwear that she uses to get off.

☆ Loser Ellie who gets turned on when you breathe, so she’s constantly ready to pounce on you when you give her the chance.

☆ Loser Ellie who can never get tired of you.

☆ Loser Ellie who wished she’d met you earlier

316 notes · View notes

somekindofpoet · 11 months

Text

Missed Connection 4

Summary: A flight delay causes a chance meeting between R and Jenna Ortega

Word Count: 4.2K

A/N: Did I write this as several needles deposit ink into my skin? Maybe. When the muse strikes, she strikes.

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3

Finding work for the Met Gala is shockingly easy. After your shoot with Dior, the fashion houses are practically banging on your door for more.

Sid had the right connections and got you front and center for the “not red” red carpet. You’d be snapping photos of celebrities and fashion icons all night, but most importantly, you’d be in the same vicinity as Jenna.

Her text back to you after you’d informed her you were going was incomprehensible. Mostly emojis and capital letters that didn’t make any kind of sense. It was safe to say she was excited.

You only had a few days to prepare for the trip, so you don’t see her at all. You text a lot, with a brief phone call here and there when you’re both between work. You know you can’t play dumb anymore. This is clearly more than friendship.

The thought of that sends conflicting emotions through you, twisting in your gut and making your heart race. Jenna’s world is one of many flashing lights, screaming people, flights, and mind-crushing work. It’s the opposite of what you thought you wanted for yourself. Your peaceful nature blinds, silent aside from the calls of birds and rustling of snow or grass. The images are so contrasting that it makes your head hurt.

But Jenna. She’s impossible to ignore. She’s beautiful; of course, she is. But there’s more to her there that people gloss over. Pieces of her you want to dig up and hold close to your heart like buried treasures. Sometimes it seems she wants to shy away from the limelight just as much as you do, but her work doesn’t afford her the reprieve. Other times, she appears so natural, so alluring in front of the camera you think she couldn’t be hidden away from the world.

Regardless of your hesitance, you find yourself smiling every time her name comes up on your phone. And the thought of seeing her at the Met just nails your coffin closed. You’re actively choosing to be at one of the most prestigious fashion events in the world, for her.

You were in denial about this fact until Dani was kind enough to slap you into some common sense. Her words were something along the lines of “You’re so delusional if you think you’re not taking your ass all the way across the country to photograph people you don’t give two shits about just because she asked you to.”

She’s right. You know she is. The fact grows in your chest with every article of clothing you fold up and place in your suitcase. It’s there lingering in the back of your mind when you pick out what you’re going to wear while you’re at the Met. It’s there when Jenna texts you before her flight takes off, and when she gives you her hotel and her room number.

You’re screwed, buddy.

You’re a ball of anxiety on the flight from LA to New York. Usually, you sleep like the dead as soon as the plane engines roar to life, but this time you just can’t still your mind. The movies on the plane are not distracting enough, your book seems dry suddenly, and all you can think about is Jenna Ortega.

What will she wear? What will she think of what you’re wearing? Does it matter? Will she talk to you at the event? Why did she give you her hotel room number? Should you go there? Is that even allowed?

You sigh, blowing your hair away from your face. The woman sitting next to you side-eyes you, probably tired of your fidgeting. In an effort to distract yourself, you bite the bullet and pay the (frankly insane) price for the in-air wifi and open your texts.

Dani has sent several messages, both encouraging and slightly threatening. Her version of consolation comes with aggressive pep talks. You don’t think you can handle her right now. You turn to the only person on your mind, figuring if she’s going to occupy your thoughts all day, she may as well soothe your anxiety too. She already texted you as of an hour ago.

Jenna

Can’t wait till you’re here!

Y/N

Only an hour out! You ready for tonight?

The blue bubbles appear at the bottom of your screen almost immediately, as if she’s been waiting for your message.

Jenna

Sitting in hair and make up now. I might die in this chair

You grin, picturing her bored out of her mind while Enrique fusses at the other stylists, perfecting his vision for her look.

Y/N

Already?!

Jenna

As Enrique loves to say, beauty takes patience…kill me

Y/N

Is that what’s wrong with my style?

Jenna

Please you look good in everything. Just don’t ever hire a stylist. Theyre supposed to make your lives easier……

Jenna

Took a brush to the skull for that joke. Hope you appreciate it

You chuckle to yourself, earning another glance from the woman next to you. You shrug at her and look back down at your phone.

Y/N

The woman in the seat next to me did not appreciate it, but I did

Y/N

I think she hates me actually

Jenna

I can have her killed. If youre interested.

Y/N

Have me killed instead, put me out of my misery

Jenna

About tonight…

Y/N

Jenna

I was hoping you’d come to the afterparty with me

You grimace, sucking air between your teeth. As much as you want to spend time with her, the Met Gala afterparty may as well be your worst nightmare. Luckily, you’re saved by the party’s policy against cameras.

Y/N

I cant, no press allowed. Technically I’m press.

Jenna

Damn. Thats right

Y/N

I’ll make it up to you

Jenna

I’ll hold you to that

—---

It feels strange, being back in the airport where you first met Jenna. The memory of you crashing into her and your conversation after has you grinning as you hustle through the crowds. It's almost enough to make you forget how badly you want out of the airport.

The city is in chaos, as it always is. But it’s more than usual, people coming in for the Gala, to attend or to stalk outside of the hotels. Vogue has put you up in a hotel near Jenna’s, as close to the Met as possible. There are already masses of people gathered outside, craning their necks as you enter to see if they know you. A quiet rumbling passes like a wave through the throng of bodies, whispers as jostling as they watch you push your way to the door.

“Is that the girl that was with Jenna last week?”

“No way, what are the odds?”

“Check your Twitter dude, it’s totally her!”

“The pictures are too dark, it’s hard to tell.”

Heat rises up your neck as you listen to the murmurs. In all the excitement, you’d forgotten that people probably did see you two at the observatory. You hadn’t even thought to look on social media. You tried to avoid that hellscape as often as possible. Dani would have mentioned it if she saw something, Jenna too…right?

You pull your phone from your pocket when you finally make it inside the sanctuary of the hotel. No more notifications than usual, everything seems normal. You call Dani when you're in the elevator, just to have her sanity check you.

“About time you call me back!”

“I’ve been in the city for an hour tops, woman. Why is it so quiet? Are you not driving today?”

“No way! I’m not missing the Met Gala are you kidding me?”

You laugh into the phone, your eyes on the growing numbers over the elevator door.

“We’re not even live for another three hours, Dani.”

“Anyway. How’s Jenna?”

“I haven’t seen her yet. And that's not why I called. Some girls outside my hotel were talking about pictures.”

“Yeah, girls do that.”

“No, pictures of me and Jenna.”

“Oh yeah, so cute. Wait, you haven’t seen them?”

“I don't have Twitter, you know this.”

“I can hear the panic in your voice, and you should know the pictures are very dark. Don’t freak out.”

“I’m kind of freaking out.”

“You’re totally fine dude. It's like, your shadow at best. Totally fine.”

Something in her tone tells you she’s lying. “Dani, seriously.”

“I’ll send you the pictures. But you’ve really got to get over this whole fame aversion thing babe. You’re dating one of the most famous actresses of our time.”

“We’re not dating.”

“Not yeeeetttt!”

“Okay, I need to change. Send me the pictures please!”

“Can’t wait to see you two on the carpet! Byee!”

The line goes dead as the elevator doors open. You drag your suitcase down the hall and slide your keycard into your door. The room is ridiculous. It's lavish and massive, and it takes you a moment to wrap your head around it. Why would they put a photographer in such a nice room?

You toss your phone on the bed and unzip your suitcase, pulling out your clothes for the night. You hang the slacks in the bathroom to steam them when you get in the shower. You keep the water scalding hot, washing off the anxiety of the plane and the journey from the airport to the hotel. You set your mind to the task at hand for the night. This is work. It’s all it is right now—just work.

You never get the chance to open the photo Dani sent you.

—----

The Met is beautiful, as always. But even more so with all the decorations and the carpet and the lights. Vogue has you positioned near the top of the stairs where you can catch both candid moments of the attendees and posed pictures. You make small talk with the other photographers and the interviewers and catch some long glances from others. People are treating you with more curiosity than usual, but you brush it off as pre-gala nerves.

As the sun starts to set over the city, the guests begin to roll in. You find yourself swept up in your work, enjoying the atmosphere and the mix of joy and nervousness. Everyone wants to impress everyone, especially the cameras. It makes your job more entertaining, watching these beautiful people quell their nerves. Because they seem more human, just people.

An hour goes by, and you still haven’t seen Jenna. You try your best not to look for her, and focus on your camera. You snag a stray shot of the things left behind on the carpet, a pearl here, a feather there. It’s just as interesting as the outfits that come strolling through. A long line of celebrities clad in clothing that costs more than your house passes you by in a haze.

And then you see her.

No one notices your jaw drop because theirs are all hanging open as well. Someone murmurs next to you, “Wow. She’s really leaning into the whole Wednesday thing, huh?”

“Uh huh,” is all you can say, unable to take your eyes off her.

You watch as she makes her way up the carpet, missing a few guests as they pass you by, but you don’t care. She’s well-versed and poses like it's what she was born to do. You think she looks happy, excited to be there, but then she sees you.

Her eyes light up, and her smile reaches so far across her face her dimple is on full display. She casually strolls up to you at the top of the stairs, ignoring the interviewers and leaning over the rail toward you.

“Well, hello, y/n,” she says, pretending to be surprised to see you there.

“You look…” your mouth closes and opens, waiting for further instructions, “you look….”

She giggles and reaches across the barrier, her hand resting on your forearm, “You don’t look half bad yourself. You clean up nice.”

“I…uh..thank you. You look incredible.”

Cameras are flashing around you, people are yelling, but you can't see them anymore. Someone comes to Jenna’s elbow, trying to guide her along. She pulls away and shakes her head, gesturing toward you.

“My PR team says I need to go inside. Take pictures of me so they leave me alone for five seconds of my life,” Jenna grumbles.

You grin and lift your camera, snapping candid photos of her before she poses. Those won’t go to Vogue; those are for you. She takes a step back and smolders you so well you think your camera may well melt between your fingers.

You wave your hand at her, “Take a step back. Let’s get the full body shot.”

“Oh,” she says, lifting her hand and turning her body to give you a better shot.

The woman behind her is trying to move her along again, and Jenna briefly shows mild irritation.

“Enough,” she says, cutting her hands out to the side, “I’ll be up in a minute.”

The woman in the suit looks like she’s chewed every nail off her fingers, drank a half liter of vodka, and it still wasn’t enough. You half feel bad for the woman. Being on Jenna’s PR team could not be an easy job.

Jenna comes back to you with a stubborn set in her jaw, “If you’re not going to the after party, where will you be?”

You shrug, trying (and failing) to manage your expression, “In the city, I guess. Text me when you’re out!”

Her arm is being taken by her now completely worn-out PR agent, and she laughs as she’s pulled backward, waving at you. You watch her take photos with Elle Fanning, listen to her joke about being the groom to her bride. It’s refreshing, to see her like this. Having fun, but still working.

When she’s finally pulled inside, you go back to work. You figure a missed guest or two…or three is excusable. The line trickles down, and the ruckus begins to fade, the real party being held inside the doors. You excuse yourself when everything is wrapped up, and make your way back to your hotel room.

In the lobby, the desk attendant calls out to you, jogging over to walk with you toward the elevators.

“We upgraded your room for the weekend. Is it to your liking?” she asks, nearly out of breath and stumbling to keep up.

You slow your pace, a confused frown furrowing your brow, “Uh, yeah. It’s great. Why?”

“Oh, management wanted to make sure you liked the room.”

“No, why did you upgrade me?”

She frowns at you, clearly as confused as you were, “Management has a celebrity policy. The lower floors have less security.”

“I’m not a celebrity?” You ask, more than tell her.

She shrugs, “Someone thinks you are.” And just like that, she’s off, scurrying back to her desk to welcome another guest.

You scratch your head as you wait for the elevator, unsure of what or who rather, just happened. You brush it off and don’t think twice about it. Who are you to look a gift horse in the mouth?

You don’t stay in your room long. Just enough to lock up your camera and change into jeans and a T-shirt. As soon as you’re able, you’re back on the street, blending in with the tourists and the bustling nightlife of New York City. You stop in a small bar and have a few drinks, content to have some time alone. After a bit, you pay your tab and wander off again until a smell overwhelms you. You feel like a cartoon character following a scent wisp, crossing the street, and turning a corner.

A little pizza shop is tucked away there, with a mass of people spilling out of its doors. Normally, crowds are a no-go for you. Unless there's food. Or Jenna. But mostly food. You maneuver your way through the crowd and stand in line, your buzz and the city making you feel like you’re in a dream.

Your phone vibrates in your pocket, and you pull it out, your heart jolting at Jenna’s name on your screen.

“Done with the afterparty already?”

A heavy sigh comes from the other end of the phone, “Just got back to my room.”

“Well, how was it?”

She laughs, “Technically, I’m not allowed to tell you. Press and all.”

“Okay, okay, that's fair.”

A group of loud teenagers pushes behind you, laughing and yelling, pizza slices dripping grease on their hands.

“Where are you?” Jenna asks around a yawn.

“A pizza shop, somewhere.”

She whines, “Lucky! I wish I could be out there.”

“I mean, you sort of can be?”

You can hear her shuffling around on the other end before she grunts, apparently flopping onto her bed. “I can’t, though, not really. It’s the sad price to pay.”

You hum, “Didn’t think about that. I’m sorry.”

She hums but stays quiet.

“Hey, I can bring you some pizza, if you want?”

“Wait, actually yes! Oh my god, you’re a saint, I’ll owe you.”

And that's how you find yourself, with a pizza box greasing over your palm, knocking at Jenna’s door at 1 AM.

When she answers, you feel even less prepared than you had been for her Gala look. At some point, you’ll get your feet under you, and just the sight of her won’t make you breathless. Right? Right?

Odds are not in your favor.

Her face is bare, the make-up from earlier washed away. Her hair is in a messy bun on the top of her head, and she's in an oversized shirt that's so big you can't see her shorts. You stand like an idiot in her doorway, pizza in one hand, a bottle of champagne in the other.

“Well?” She says, coy smile on her lips, “Are you going to come in?”

“I..uh..yeah, of course.” You’re not winning any points in the smooth factor, but for some reason, she still smiles at you like you’re suave.

As soon as the door closes, she snatches the pizza box out of your hand and leaps onto the bed, sitting cross-legged and gesturing you over. You kick off your shoes and sit at the end, trying with all your might not to be awkward.

Jenna slaps your shoulder, “Take the cork out of that and get comfortable. Let's watch a movie.”

You nod dumbly and stand to uncork the champagne. She crawls up the bed to rest her back against the headboard. You climb in beside her.

“What are we watching?” You ask, taking a sip from the bottle.

“Beetlejuice,” she says without hesitation.

She extends her hand for the bottle, and you pass it over, taking your own slice of pizza from the box. The movie begins, and your shoulder to shoulder, your entire body feeling like it's vibrating. Eventually, the bottle is abandoned on the nightstand, and the pizza box is kicked onto the floor. Jenna rests her head on your shoulder and her hand on your leg, and you can no longer focus on the tv. You want to kiss her so badly, it’s become the sole driving force in your mind.

“Jenna?” You say, turning your head to look down at her.

Her body is relaxed, her breathing even. She’s fallen asleep, wrapped around you. A piece of you is disappointed, but another part is relieved. She needs to rest. You can see it in the set of her shoulders and the bags under her eyes. You gently slide her down the bed, turn off the tv as you go, and slip out of her room.

—----

You’re back at her door the next morning at 7 AM. A small bag rests on your shoulders, and an excited smile overtakes your face.

She answers the door with messy hair and sleepy eyes. Her voice is scratchy when she asks, “Y/N? What’re you doing?”

“I have a surprise for you,” you say, pulling the bag off your back. You hand it to her and brush past her into her room to sit on an armchair.

She opens the bag and looks over at you, blinking slowly, “You brought me a hoody?”

You nod excitedly, “And jeans. You might need a belt for them, though. Also, did you bring shoes to walk in?”

She chuckles, “I have my own jeans, and yeah. I have my Addidas.”

“Great! Put them on. We’re gonna be late.”

“For what?” She says, scratching her cheek.

“It’s a surprise.”

—-

“My PR team is going to murder you,” Jenna says, the hood of your sweater pulled low over her face. Her sunglasses hide most of her, which is in your favor.

“I’m pretty sure they already hate me. But it’ll be okay. We just need to get there.”

The car pulls into the Pier parking lot, and your leg won't stop shaking. Jenna pats your knee reassuringly.

“I have no idea what you’re doing, but don’t be nervous,” she says, her head on your shoulder again.

The car parks in front of a boat, its Captain standing at the bottom of the deck shooing away pigeons and tourists. You drag Jenna out of the car and wave at him.

“He owes me a favor. We worked together in the Antarctic,” you tell her when she gives you a quizzical look.

“Y/N!” The Captain yells out, embracing you when you approach.

“Oscar,” you say as you hug him, trying not to grunt from his heavy hand patting your back.

“And who’s this?” Oscar says, releasing you and peering around your shoulder.

“Oscar, this is Jenna. She’s the cargo I was telling you about.”

“Cargo?” Jenna whispers, almost to herself.

“Just go with it,” you say, your hand on her lower back.

Oscar ushers you onto the boat, pulling up the plank behind you, “Good conditions today, ladies! We’ve got a fair shot!”

You smile and nod your head at him, leading Jenna onto the front deck. She shivers and wraps her arms around your waist, making your stomach flip.

“You’re going to explain all of this later, right?” She says, looking up at you.

You nod, “I just figured we’ve been in your world so far. Let me show you mine.”

She tilts her head but nods, slowly. The boat leaves the harbor and heads out for the open Atlantic sea, the water spraying you in salty mist, the cool wind whipping your hair. You pull Jenna’s hood off and grin.

“You won’t need this anymore,” you tell her, absently brushing her hair behind her ear.

She smiles up at you and pushes her sunglasses into her hair, her eyes wide and soft. She reaches up on her toes, wraps her arms around the back of your neck. Your eyes begin to shut as the distance between you closes.

“Yo! Sighting on the port side!!” Oscar’s bellowing voice makes you jump apart.

Jenna laughs and runs to the port side, the railing hitting her ribs. You smile and shake your head, following close behind her.

“What are we sighting?” She asks, her voice excited.

“Just wait. You’ll see.” You tell her, your hands on the railing.

A few minutes pass, and all that there is to see is rolling ocean and seagulls. Then, suddenly, a whale breaches the surface. It sprays water from its blowhole, it’s back coming into view.

Jenna gasps, “Holy shit!”

Your smile is miles wide now, and you wrap your arm around her shoulders. Half to make contact with her, and half to make sure she doesn’t jump into the ocean in her excitement. You’ve seen people do stranger things.

An entire pod of whales surfaces, sending Jenna into unbridled joy. She laughs, jumps, squeals at the babies. The whole scene is as perfect as you’d imagined it. Her hair is wild in the ocean wind, her skin dotted with ocean mist. You mentally pat yourself on the back for this and decide you need to take her into your world more often. She clearly loves it.

On the way back into port, Jenna is wrapped around you as you lean back on the railing, enjoying the view of the approaching city. She turns her head to look up at you and smiles.

“Thank you. For this.”

“Of course. Nature is kind of my thi-”

The rest of your words are stolen by her lips on yours. The kiss is soft, exploring, and sweet. Her hands on the back of your neck pull you down to her, wrapping you up in her. Tiny fireworks explode in your chest, and your head feels like it's spinning.

She pulls back, smiles at you, and kisses you again just as the boat pulls into port.

—--

You hate to leave the city before Jenna does, but she has more work to do, and you have a cat you need to get home to. Before you get on the plane, a text from Dani comes in.

Dani

HO-LY SHIT

Dani

You fucking legend!

Y/N

I’ve missed some vital information in this conversation here

Instead of explaining herself, she sends you a link. It opens to a page with a headline that reads:

JENNA ORTEGA AND MYSTERY PHOTOGRAPHER

Ortega makes waves at the Met Gala in her Thom Brown custom, and did we spot a beau? Read more for their heart eyes at the Gala and the steamy boat ride photographs!

Well, shit.

#jenna ortega x reader #jenna ortega x fem!reader #jenna ortega x y/n #jenna ortega

1K notes · View notes

undercoverpena · 8 months

Text

xi. hold her, and tell her everything's gonna be fine

javier peña x f!reader | chapter eleven of late night texts

summary: It's the year 2000. Javi is minding his own business on the porch of his pop's ranch when a text from an unknown number vibrates his phone. The only problem is, no one knows he has a phone and no one has his number.

chapter warnings: sad!reader, talks of jobloss, comforting!javi, two idiots pining for one another. fluff. flirting. continuous romcom vibes. falling in love. idiots in love ✨ wordcount: 3.3k. an: i know, when will jo stop changing the banner, but I love this so much and feel it encompasses everything for these two.

text key: bold is you/reader | italics is javi

I have one last thing to research and then I’m all yours.

have you eaten

There is a piece of fruit in my hand, as I research.

you said you were gonna order

In my defence, I’m not super hungry.

if I was there id hide your notebook and make you eat tamales my mama taught me to make

Make me, ay?

oh baby normally i would be so down to talk dirty with you and make you blush but only when youve eaten

I really want this job, baby.

i know but i really want you to not be ill

Because you really really really like me?

i heard that in your voice and yes because I really like you

In the last few days, the two of you have managed to complete three crosswords. Something he’s impressed with and you’re disappointed in.

“So, another one—I’m still unsure what this even means.”

Laughing, he hears you crunch another piece of fruit—thankful to hear you eating. “What’s the clue, baby?”

He’ll never tire of it, hearing you call him that. A sweet sound, all wrapped in kindness—floating down the phone line all the way to his ear.

“‘Not a company man’, six letters,” he says, fingers rolling the bridge of his nose.

“Hermit,” you say, calm, casual. “Or, you know, me if I don’t get the job.”

“Baby,” he warns, pen scratching the paper as you try to laugh.

Then you asked to change the conversation. Something he was more than happy to oblige, capping the pen, shoving the book away, leaning on the counter as you tell him about a new recipe you like. Talking fast, busy—almost far too energetic, but he knows why.

It’s all because of today.

The interview—the things he’s heard you jump through hoops for—arriving sooner than he could have relaxed you for.

You’d practised elements of your presentation and called him more than you usually would. Something he liked, enjoyed. The feeling of being needed. That his opinion mattered. It all weaving within him, stitching the parts of him that had weakened since the goodbye, since the drive home—alone and without you.

After a quick text in the morning, Javi had known not to expect to hear from you for a while. Likely not even immediately post your interview, probably needing a coffee—a breather.

If he lived there, where you were, you’d likely need him. Meet him outside, coffee in hand to give to you, a comforting hug, your breath on his neck as you let the tension out.

But he wasn’t there.

And he had thought he might have heard from you an hour later.

let me know how it’s gone baby

Javi tries not to be needy.

A battle he finds easy to lose when it comes to you. Digging his phone out the back pocket of his jeans periodically, ignoring the animals nuzzling their noses at him for food as he checks his battery, texts, calls…

Then the hour bled into two. Your interview was two-hundred and thirty-nine minutes ago, to be precise.

By now, he’s expected to have heard something, anything.

you still want me to call tonight

He tries not to worry. Even as his tasks dwindled, the sun beating down, his stomach growling and sweat building in parts of him that he should shower off.

But a part of him thinks if he goes inside, it’ll layer on top of him: the loneliness. The thing he feels, but pretends isn’t there.

Because normally, he’d have heard from you at lunch—if not more frequently throughout your day. The silence expected, very out of character. Which turns some cogs in him that twist and tighten, forcing his throat to burn and his stomach to flutter with a nervousness he can’t explain, except that:

Javi wants you.

Not just in the sense that he wants to run his fingers up and down your side, to crush his lips over yours, to bury himself inside of you as he feels himself falling, freely, and happily. But more that he wants to wake next to you, see you smile and laugh amongst the field, show you the water’s edge—feel some contentment there rather than boiling anger at the boats.

You could wear your jacket as the weather cools, and spread your warmth from the photo strip to the rest of the ranch.

youre doing that thing where you make me worry, baby

Eventually, after much internal fighting, he heads in and showers.

Hands washing the day as he hopes the water will take away his worries too. Pressing his palm flat to the tiles, he allows the water to beat down on him—eyes occasionally glancing to the phone on the windowsill, willing it to light up.

He suspects it’s why he stays in a bit longer.

Allows the soap suds to have long since vanished down the plug hole, letting the water begin to go cold as he uses all of the water up.

It’s only when he’s dried off, thrown some comfier clothes on—sunk into his usual chair, does he rotate the phone in his hand. His fingers slid along the underside of his chin, eyes fixated on a photo of him and his parents—their faces beaming, smiling, his hands in theirs.

even got me using punctuation and everything

Please, he whispers.

To no one. Not his Pop in the next room, some show bleeding into the air. Just to himself, as he works the spot on his forehead.

You don’t text him back, but you do call bang on time.

He’s spent the last half an hour pretending he wasn’t loitering, while his pop pretended he wasn’t coming in to make drinks to check on him. Giving him that look, the one Javi had seen so often when he’d first come back from Cali.

All concern, all deep lines embedded with worries as he ticks, tick, ticked.

This was different. Something in his gut telling him that you weren’t okay, a need inside of him to get to you—pack a bag, head to the airport and hope there was a flight or something.

He only hadn’t because a part of him, small—but loud—hummed that it could be him. He could be the reason, the cause. It all too good to be true. His fingers pressing keys to read back his texts, see if he can find the cause—the moment it all began to spoil and undo.

The last hour of investigation led him to nothing. Irritation threading into his muscles until he heard the phone ring—loud, punching holes with its noise into his unravelling.

Smirking, he wipes his hands on his jeans, cocking his head around the doorway—checking for the flickering television and no lurking pop, before he unhooks the ringing phone from its place.

“Took you long enough, was about to ring you and ruin—”

“J—Javi?”

Sniffle. A sob. The beginnings of you splitting in two.

That’s what he hears—clear as anything. It cuts straight through his attempt at teasing and slices through him as though the sound was laced with the edge of a knife.

It’s instant, barely explainable, the way his stomach falls to his feet. His smile vanishes, stolen and robbed, as another sob expands in the space of your two’s silence, making his throat dry, and the phone crunches a little under his grip.

“Baby. Talk to me, what’s happened?”

You swallow, all thick, as though it's a struggle. “I… I—I didn’t g-get the job-b.”

Slowly, his eyes close. Hearing you cry again, louder, less restrained and more freely, them rolling and rolling from you like a wave. The depth of it travels freely down the phone, in the same way, he usually craves when it’s your voice, noise, or presence.

“I’m… cariño, I’m so—”

“—I’m s-sorry, Javi. I’m so sorry…”

Frowning, he slides the fingers down his nose as you continue to apologise—them merging with your hiccups and tears.

“Cariño, wait. Stop.”

And you do. Your sniffles all of a sudden ceasing, more restrained—practically swallowing another one back. Trying to keep it on your tongue, rather than let it escape.

“Why are you apologising to me?”

You’re quiet for a moment, a second. Then you seem to let out a strange noise, before clearing your throat. “The job… I… we’d have been seeing each other more, and I’ve ruined it—I ruined-d it all.”

Frowning, he opens his mouth. Confusion there, all evident and brimming. Because he hasn’t got a fucking clue what you’re talking about. His brain runs, dashing through the notes it’s been making, the snippets here and there you’d spill about your day and your work.

“It was-s in Houston. I’d have been able t-to move. We’d have been c-closer.”

And then it lands.

The realisation. What it would have meant.

It appears in front of him before it slams straight into him. Forced his head to drop, sight lowering to a mark on the wall as his chest tightens. His eyes fixated, unable to tear his eye from the stain on the off-yellow wall—one likely made from him sitting on a stool or chair, maybe even his knee when he’s stretched, when minutes have quickly tumbled into an hour.

Even if he’s reeling, your ramblings have continued. They’re all in various pitches, spluttered and painted in painful cries and strangled sniffs.

“—I—I didn’t want to tell you at first, in case we didn’t, you know, get on.” You continue, some words slamming into the next as you try to level out your cries. “Then I didn’t want to tell you in case you got excited, and I fucked it up—and I did, didn’t I? I fucked it up. And now we won’t live closer, and—“

“Baby—“

But you’re tumbling, rolling right off the emotional cliff you’d been on the edge of. Thick, horrid sobs that shake his foundation and dart cracks through all of him continue to travel from you.

And it hurts. Makes him feel both horrid and weak—helpless. Unsure what he can say, do.

So he offers, “They’ll be other jobs.”

And as soon as it unfurls from his tongue, he wants to drag it back. Swallow each syllable, and letter, and never let you hear them again.

Because he’s sure you cry harder, louder. Even if it appears like you pull the phone away so he can’t hear how deep they go.

And you keep trying to spill out his name, a sentence here and there, trying to form as he pushes the phone against his ear, palm flattening against the wall—balling his fingers up—

“There won’t be…”

Sighing, he lets you take a breath. “Baby, of course, there will be. You’re good, I can tell, alright? And you’re brilliant and just cause those fuckin’ idiots can’t see—“

“I quit, Javi.”

The words he’d been about to say, fizz out on his tongue, die, fade. And it seems to only make you cry harder. His mind trying to catch up, to follow on with what is happening as you explain, in broken sobs, how your entire life seems to crumble apart all around you.

“I… I couldn’t take it. The reason, the explanation. How they gave it to the new guy, the one who doesn’t even know how Houston operates—and I just saw red, Javi. And I quit. Me? I… I just packed my desk up, left….”

He bites the inside of his cheek, listening as you take a breath—it sounds so much like defeat has replaced your sorrow.

“Then I just wandered. A box under my arm… and… I wanted to reply, but I didn’t know where to start. Like, ‘I miss you so much, but by the way, I didn’t get that promotion, and I snapped because they treat me like shit, so I quit. That my best friend is so excited because they’re paying for her to move this month for her new job, and my lease on my apartment is coming up’ and…”

“And what?”

It’s your turn to sigh, it more shaky and still embezzled with sniffles—fluttering down to his ear. “And…” you pause, his pulse suddenly quickening, waiting, mouth opening and then closing. “And, the person who would make me feel better isn’t even in the same State as me—because, I know this sounds crazy, but as soon as I heard why I didn’t get that job, all I wanted… well, all I wanted was you.”

Me?

His lips curl, sliding up into his cheek. His eyes look up, dancing around the marks on the wall as he straightens his spine, and swallows back whatever lump had been forming.

“I just…” you continue, “wanted to be back in that hotel room. Curled up in your arms.”

“You….” Clearing his throat, he tries again. “You know how we could solve that? You could come here—clear your head… just for a minute. Get all the hugs you want.”

You let out a noise, low, shifting it from it to a breath in record time. “Well, I wouldn’t be much fun. I’d just spend it in your bed.”

“That doesn’t sound all that bad, baby.”

“Sleeping and crying, do it for you, charmer?”

He grins, before rolling his lips. “Not if it’s not from how good I make you feel, no. But. I just—want you to have options.”

You go silent, far too quiet for his liking, until he hears the sound of movement, shuffling. His ears honing in, trying to work out what it is you’re doing, could be doing.

“What am I actually gonna do, Javi?”

Fuck. It suddenly dawning on him how unequipped he is for this. For comfort—for being there for another person. He barely looked after himself before, never mind since he came home. He hasn’t got a fucking clue what to say to even begin to make someone feel better, never mind someone who means as much to him as you.

“I… I quit my job. Without even finding another one—that’s… that’s crazy, insane—I don’t do these things and-and—“

Rolling his head on his neck, he ran a hand over his face. Trying to buy a second or two, digging deep for an answer—something comforting that would help.

“You, baby, are gonna get some sleep, and tomorrow we’re gonna sort it.”

He hears you swallow. Loud, followed shortly after by a sigh.

“We?”

You say it quietly, full of disbelief.

Because only you still wouldn’t realise how deep he is in with you. If he could, if he could risk hijacking the moment to explain, he’d tell you how worried he’s been, how he’s been obsessively checking and clicking, to the point he’s pretty sure he’s taken some life of his phone battery for it.

Swallowing, he bites his lip, nodding to himself. “It’s you and me, ain’t it, cariño? You’re not… you don’t have to figure this out alone, is all I mean.”

It’s soft—the way you reply, okay. Delicate. He’s hopeful it’s accompanied by a smile, one with a nose scrunch.

“Javi?”

“Yeah, baby.”

“Can you… can you stay on the phone with me?”

Pulling a stool over, he sits himself down on it. The ache in his chest widened, a lump in his throat forming. “Sure, baby. You want me to talk about anything in particular?”

“Not sure…”

“What would you do if I was there?”

He swears he hears you smirk.

“I would cook you almond saffron chicken.”

Shifting on the stool, he adjusts the phone in his hand. “Yeah? How come?”

“It’s the first dish Aish taught me to make, and I think you’d like it. And, I’m quite hungry, I… I didn’t really feel up to food before. But maybe, y’know, if I came to see you, had the chance to cook, maybe over a long weekend?”

Smirking, he lets out a content breath. “I like the sound of it already…”

“Because of me cooking in your kitchen?”

Laughing, he rolls his lips. “No, because it would mean you were here, cariño.

Morning baby, hope the cows aren’t trying to eat your shirt.

morning hermosa why are you up so early

Well, I thought of having a lie in but decided to grab a coffee, print off some CVs and not look as desperate as I feel.

if it makes you feel better im pretty sure my pop would hire you in a heartbeat

Bet I’d look real good in dungarees.

fuck baby

Could even wear your shirt, tie it so it’s a crop.

youre killing me

I’ll leave you with that, I have a list of places to beg to give me a chance.

wouldnt need to beg me

Stop, baby. Save it for later.

He’d barely dried himself off before your text came through.

Javi had found that the one upside to you being unemployed was the amount of time you had to reply or call—something he wasn’t complaining about in the slightest.

In a way (a small, acceptable way), it felt like a taste of what it would be like if the two of you lived closer. If there weren’t towns, cities and states between the two of you. If you lived close by, or better yet, on the ranch with him.

Across the last few days, while you’d seemed upbeat through text—just as you were when the two of you were in Houston—he quickly realised how much of a mask that was when he had you on the phone.

If not for the fact that when you ended the call, you seemed more yourself than when it started, Javi would have already begged someone from a ranch or two over to help, and book a flight out to surprise you.

“Hello, charmer.”

Grinning, he runs his hand over his chin. “Someone’s in a good mood.”

“Well, I have good news.”

“What’s that then?”

“Remember when I said I had to meet with someone in Houston, from imports? Well, apparently, they’ve been trying to get hold of me at work—one of the few nice people there let me know, even passed my details on.”

It begins—right in his stomach. A nervousness, a bubble—it rising and rising, sliding into his heart as it makes it beat just that much quicker.

“He wants to meet with me… apparently, I impressed him?”

“That’s—fuck, that’s amazing, baby.”

Javi can almost hear your grin as you laugh—can even picture you hiding your face in your hand at his happiness.

“Yeah,” you say, more in a sigh than anything else. “It’s obviously just an interview—maybe even a chat, but it’s something.”

Tracing the back of the phone with his finger, he runs his fingers up his neck, up his chin—

Pulse thumping in his neck. “I could… Could always drive up, see you after?”

“Oh… um?”

Oh? He thinks. The noise suddenly on repeat. It’s all he can hear—that little surprised noise rips from your throat and punctures his ear. His own fingers scratching at his cheek.

And then you clear your throat, and he grits his jaw. “Well, if you wanted, once I’ve had my meeting with him, I was going to ask if I could come to Laredo, see the ranch… and you?”

Just as quickly as it came, the earlier shame from your ‘oh’ vanishes. It bursts, erupts into a thousand pieces of nothing as the edges of his lips begin to curl up.

“For a second, didn’t think you wanted to see me.”

You don’t laugh, don’t ridicule his confession, and if you were here, he’d imagine you’d have tilted your head in that way you do.

“Javi, of course, I want to see you. I…” you take a long pause as though battling with yourself. “Baby, I’ve been trying to find my way back to you since the moment I left you. There’s nothing I want more than to see you. I promise.”

His shoulders descend from his ears, a smile spreading across his face so large—he’s not sure anything could take it. Something inside of him shifted, sliding back together.

“So, do you mind if I come to see you on your ranch? Bother your animals, let me admire your fence work?”

If he hadn’t been sure before, he’s sure now he would have kissed you. Grip you by your cheeks and crash his mouth to yours, stealing that question mark from the air and using his lips to remind you that with him, you never need it.

But, since he can’t, he finds words. One’s that are more eloquent than ‘fuck, yes’, but are close in family to it.

Because, of course, he wants to see you. He never wanted to let you go in the first place.

an: we have next weeks and then an epilogue, and LNT 'main story' will be done. honestly, thank you for all the love as we've gone on this journey. i never expected this for one second, and i'm so emotional right now at how well loved/supported this story has been. i'm gonna miss it, so much.

#javier peña x reader #javi peña x reader #javi peña x you #javier peña x you #narcos x reader #javier pena x reader #javier pena x you #javi pena x reader #narcos javier x reader #narcos javier #pedro pascal x reader #narcos fanfiction #pedrostories #mm: late night texts #javier peña fanfiction #pedro pascal characters fanfiction #pedro pascal characters #pedro pascal fanfic

498 notes · View notes

ruggiezz · 2 months

Text

— HANAHAKI DISEASE : twisted wonderland

[synopsis] they find themselves getting this deathly illness. how do they deal with it?

[characters] deuce, ruggie, azul, rook

[content warnings] spoilers for book 6, mentions of throwing up, food, death and dead bodies

★DEUCE SPADE is scared, really scared.

It was predictable that he was going to catch feelings for you; there was just something in the way you looked at him that got his heart doing leaps in his chest, the way your laugh would make him get butterflies in his stomach. Wasn’t love supposed to be sweet, like in the movies?

Deuce tried really hard to keep it hidden. He excused himself to go to the bathroom frequently, ignoring the weird glances the three of you gave him. Even if he felt dizzy almost all the time, he never stopped hanging out with you, finding your presence comforting in some way, as if searching for some reassurance that you may reciprocate his feelings.

Then he started to throw up.

His heart felt like it was going to come out of his chest. It all started to feel real; blood was everywhere in the Heartslabyul bathroom. Deuce cleaned it up desperately before somebody could see it, scrubbing as fast as he could and flushing the flowers away. ‘It’s fine. Everything will be okay,’ he told himself.

Valentine’s Day was approaching, and Deuce wrote you a heartfelt letter confessing his feelings for you. His mom called him, asking if he would spend it with someone special, and he laughed it off, suddenly feeling hopeful and energized. He got his hopes up; he shouldn’t have. He really shouldn't have. Without knowing it, Ace had decided his fate by confessing to you first.

As he saw you both holding hands, Deuce knew he was too late. Flowers filled up his lungs, and their thorns suddenly made him feel a very sharp pain in his chest.

That night, he called his mom, crying and apologizing.

★ RUGGIE BUCCHI felt a chill go down his spine when he saw the first petals come out of his mouth.

He knew what was going to happen to him in the next few months, starting from that moment. Seeing dead corpses back home that had colorful flowers coming out of their mouths wasn't uncommon to him back when he was a kid, but he never imagined it would happen to him, not even in his wildest dreams.

He told himself that he didn’t need help, that he would adapt and this would pass, but it just got worse and worse. It reached a point where he would struggle to get up from his bed without feeling dizzy, but he just wouldn’t acknowledge it. If he did acknowledge it, reality would come crashing down on him. Time is money, and he can’t afford to be sick.

The more he continues to ignore it, the sicker he gets. His face is pale, he is thinner, his hands tremble, and most surprisingly, he lost his appetite. Eventually Leona can't ignore it anymore and asks him to go rest; ‘he can't have a living corpse working,’ he says, but that’s just his way of saying he’s worried.

Ruggie keeps a bucket next to his bed that he can use to throw up the flowers, he feels so drained to even move; the only thing he can do is stare at the ceiling. His eyes burn, he can’t breathe, and everything hurts. Jack comes to check up on him after finding out what's going on; Leona asks for food to be delivered to him regularly; and you keep texting him, asking where he is.

He's angry—at himself, at you, and at everyone—but he doesn't have the strength to even cry out of frustration. It hurts, it hurts, it hurts, please make it stop. The flowers that were once used by him to make salads are now killing him slowly from the inside.

He can’t deny what’s happening to him anymore. Even if he didn’t want to ask for help, he decides to accept when Leona offers to pay for his surgery. His grandma is waiting for him back home, he can't break her heart.

★AZUL ASHENGROTTO doesn't want to die.

He can't die, he can’t die yet, don't mention the word ‘death’ to him. There are so many things he needs to do. What about his plans and his contracts? That’s his life’s work. You're telling him this is how he dies? That’s it? Azul can’t and won’t accept this.

He won’t cry; he won’t even shed a single tear. Instead of mourning what could have been, he will bury himself in his work. Azul will bite his lip out of anger and refuse to just lay there coughing ‘dumb’ flowers. He just keeps writing and writing paperwork, day and night. Wake up, eat, study, work, work, more work, sleep—that's his daily routine. Jade and Floyd are unusually quiet; Azul just keeps going on with his daily life. Nobody outside of the three of them could tell something was troubling him.

His throat burns, his chest aches from the pressure of the flowers inside him, and his head feels heavy, but there's nothing that some potions can't solve.

There’s resentment from Azul towards you; he can’t even look at you, and the twins won’t let you get close to him either. That feeling of closeness you ever had with the three of them is suddenly gone. Floyd doesn’t want to have anything to do with you, and Jade won’t explain why Azul doesn’t want you near him. The idea of actually losing Azul was scary, even if they wouldn't say it out loud.

So what if Azul was ever in love with you? So what if he still is? Love won’t stop him from achieving what he wants, even if it means forgetting about your existence. He will get that surgery, no matter what.

★ROOK HUNT is in awe when he sees the first petals come out of his mouth.

He has always been on the hunt for beauty, and there's beauty in the way such delicate flowers get mixed with his own blood, in the way his body could make him have a painful, tragic, but fascinating death. It’s fate, isn’t it? He was meant to meet you, and you were meant to meet him. Everything has a reason; he got so infatuated with you that now he’s in this frightening but charming predicament.

He doesn’t let anyone know, not even Vil. It's not like somebody can tell anyway; a hunter never shows his weaknesses. His smile doesn't falter as he writes thousands of poems professing his love to you, poems he holds close to his chest and cherishes with all his heart. The smell of blood doesn't bother him, as he focuses on the sweet fragrance coming from the daffodils that comes out of his mouth.

Rook has decided that he will let the flowers consume him, laying on his deathbed like the beautiful princess that could rival the fairest queen’s beauty. If this is how he meets his end, then so be it; love can be bitter, hurtful, but alluring at the same time. Words won’t be left unsaid; he will tell you everything. If you don't love him back, then he will accept it and wither away. It will be too late when Vil and Epel find out either way.

Rook would have loved to see your beautiful face one last time before he died, but the last thing he sees is Vil asking him to stay awake and Epel yelling for help.

#twisted wonderland x reader #deuce spade x reader #ruggie bucchi x reader #azul ashengrotto x reader #rook hunt x reader #twisted wonderland #twst #twst x reader #deuce x reader #ruggie x reader #azul x reader #rook x reader

259 notes · View notes

aikatoru · 3 months

Note

hi bby !!! wanted to request if u could write smth angsty where reader has a bad experience with relationships and geto or nanami (or any jjk character u prefer !!) helps experience what love is again (it sounds a lil corny im sorry 🥲 but the plot is based of a poem i made jajejajww)

thank you bby and have a nice dayy !!! 💛🩷

Someone You Love Note: (Hope you like it Riri!!)

Nanami x female reader angst

Word count: 1.5K words.

Warnings: Angst, cheating, kissing, making love, unprotected sex, pulling out, aftercare.

Summary:

When you found out your boyfriend cheated on you, you swore to never love again but fate had other plans when they intertwined your path with Nanami’s.

(Not proofread so please be kind)

Tagging: @planetoshun

Dividers are by myself

Love has always been such a funny little thing. The very word fascinates you. It’s just a four letter word and yet it carries so much weight. It can make a heart flutter, butterflies appear in your stomach and a smile form on your lips, as you hear your boyfriend told you that he loved you for the very first time.

It made you dizzy and filled with tremendous joy and in your daze, you pulled him in for a kiss. In that moment that was love, cause that was all you knew.

You never once thought that someone could just throw “I love yous” so easily, never once doubted him. In your naivety, you believed him as he held your hand and told you that you were the most beautiful woman in the world, you believed him when he told you that you’re special.

You let him make love to you, cause you were in love. He told you that you’re the best he’s ever had and you believed him. You let your guard down because you believed that you could trust him.

He was your everything. He made you feel safe and loved, he made you feel okay to be emotionally dependent on him. He was your best friend, until he started getting distant.

He stopped answering your texts as often and miss your calls a few times. Started coming by in the dead of the night, always wanting one thing, sex. And you would always give in, because you loved him and you thought he loved you.

It was only when he completely ghosted you, ignoring all your texts and calls, never once coming to see you, that you started to doubt. And yet, you held hope that he still loved you, so you went looking for him.

Hope came crashing down like a ton of bricks as you watch your boyfriend smiling and talking with another woman, reciting the same words he had once said to you on your dates, telling her the same “I love yous” you’ve always loved hearing.

Tears quickly formed and flowed down uncontrollably and you left, afraid of getting spotted, afraid of what he might think if he were to see you like this, because even after all that, you still care what he thought.

Yes, Love was a funny little word. And at that point you were done with it.

No longer will you love again, you swore to yourself.

But fate had other plans when they intertwined your path with Nanami’s.

He was overworked and sleep deprived. You had met him in the bar where you worked, nursing a glass of beer one night. He had just been staring at his glass the entire time and so you felt the urge to ask him if he was alright.

He snapped out of his thoughts and cleared his throat as he nodded and told you that he was fine, grabbing his glass and taking a large swig.

He ordered two more beers and a couple of shots. By the time he was done, he was stumbling all over himself, struggling to stand even. You managed to catch him just before he falls over. You tried asking him where he’s staying but he couldn’t form a coherent answer, your boss told you to just leave him on the bench outside but you refused and dragged him back to your apartment.

Nanami wakes up with a raging hangover the next day, his head was pounding and he looks around not recognizing where he was, slowly getting up to look around, only to find you in nothing but an oversized t-shirt…if you were wearing shorts it did little to cover your exposed thighs from his wandering eyes.

Your back was facing him as you were cooking in your small kitchen. He cleared his throat to make his presence known and you jumped, a little startled from it. Turning to face him, you gave him a small smile telling him that breakfast was almost ready and to take a seat at the table.

Fascinated by the unknown, he decided to not question it and just do as you said.

After a while he was greeted with a plate of pancakes and a glass of warm milk as you took a seat in front of him. You pass him an aspirin and he said a simple thank you before downing everything, he was hungry, he hadn’t eaten anything since last night.

You watched him eat in fascination. Taking small bites of your own plate, you didn’t quite realize just how good looking he was, you didn’t get a very good look last night.

When he was finished eating, you giggled as you told him that he had some syrup on the side of his mouth. He tried wiping it off but didn’t get it so you offered to help, leaning over the table, reaching out your hand to gently wipe at his mouth, but you lingered there, hand still resting on his face, eyes meeting his, searching, for something you’re not quite sure until finally someone leans in and your lips meet in a tender kiss.

And there it was again, the butterflies. That damn awful feeling again. It was addictive and that was how you find yourself spread out on the table getting fucked by the stranger you had just met last night. Dirty plates crashed on the floor as you continued your sexcapade.

You gasped as his cock pounded into you, scratching up his back, you never had someone as big as him before and the stretch was absolutely delicious.

He couldn’t help but rip your shirt to shreds desperate to see more of your skin, kissing every single inch of your expose flesh.

It was all so good, you were so good and he wanted more, he wanted you. Your tight wet pussy was so inviting as it squeezes around his thick girth.

His hips meeting yours in a sinful manner, his tip bruising your cervix with every thrust, causing you to squirm and moan in his hold.

But the lewd sounds of your increasing slick was a dead indicator that you were enjoying this just as much as he was.

You couldn’t help but scream as you hit your climax, walls squeezing, creaming all over his cock. Nanami chokes, quickly pulling out to spray all over your stomach.

Pumping his cock a few more times to coat your pussy in his cum.

After the high wears off, Nanami was the first to get up and head to the bathroom, coming back with a wet towel to clean you up. And after that he carried you bridal style to your bedroom, lying you down on your bed, getting you under the covers and spooning you.

It was funny, it was strange. You had just met this person and already you felt like he has done so much more for you, than your ex boyfriend ever has. Or probably you were just not used to aftercare.

But being in Nanami’s arms made you feel safe and you find yourself falling asleep sooner than you’d expected.

And that was how your relationship started, you found out that his name was Nanami Kento and that he was a salaryman with crazy work hours and a measly pay, when you had questioned why he continued working there, he kept quiet about it and you didn’t want to push him. You were not one to talk after all, working as a mere waitress in a bar. It wasn’t exactly first class either.

Since you both weren’t making much money, you couldn’t afford to go on much extravagant dates but what you both lack in money was more than made up for in sex.

You literally spend almost every single night fucking each other like rabbits, never getting enough of each other. How could you when Nanami Kento was a fucking menace. Always acting so gentle and sweet but rutting into you so aggressively leaving bruises in his wake.

You started spending more and more time together and on one lazy Sunday afternoon, while you were lying in bed and Nanami was stroking your hair, you finally confessed, telling him that you love him. And you didn’t miss the way he paused in his movements and sighs before giving you a smile, asking you if you were hungry, diverting the conversation.

Maybe you should have taken that as a warning sign, maybe you should have seen it for what it was, but you were so blinded, so wanting to be loved that you overlooked it all.

And maybe that’s why one day, he stops contacting you altogether. No calls, no texts and no more coming over.

At first you thought he was just busy, maybe work just got way too much for him so you decided to visit him at his workplace, only to find out that he’s quit his job and no one knows where he went.

It was as if he was a ghost, there was no trace of him except for the scent he left on your sheets. And as you sobbed on your bed, wrapping yourself up in the blankets that smelled so much like him, trying to remember what it was like to have him hold you…you couldn’t help but wonder if he was thinking about you too even for just a second…

…left to nurse your broken heart once again, you were just getting used to being someone he loves.

The End

#aika writes 🤍#aikatoru blog #nanami kento #jjk nanami #nanami x reader #nanami smut #nanami x reader smut #nanami x reader angst #jjk x reader #jjk angst #nanami angst #nanami x you #nanami x y/n

171 notes · View notes

drrav3nb · 10 months

Text

Carmy reacting to Claire's message/giving her a fake number vs Carmy reacting to Sydney's message and her having his real number

There's so much I could say about this. The first thing I want to point out is that Carmy gives Claire a fake number, not by accident but knowingly. She must've known this as throughout the season she asks him why and even asks him if it's even okay that she has his number.

Meanwhile, with Sydney it's established in season one that they already exchanged numbers as they're texting each other in the final episode. Now, they do work together and colleagues, especially business partners are going to need each other's contact information in order to discuss things.

But Carmy doesn't seem bothered by Sydney having his number, in fact in E5, he asks Sydney why she didn't call him about a problem that happened at the restaurant. And you can see a chain of text messages in E3 where they jest about Fak not having the proper tools. So then that begs the question as to why Claire having his number was such a big deal and why Carmy was so against it?

Like I mentioned before Claire brings this up a lot and Carmy either ignores it or answers her by not really addressing the question. He obviously didn't want her to have his number, as he's very surprised when she ends up calling his real number. This means that if she didn't chase his real number down by asking Fak, then they would've never reconnected or had a relationship this season, something Carmy might not have wanted. And honestly, it really did feel like Claire pushed the idea of a relationship on to him.

Then there's the differences in Carmy's reactions to Sydney's messages vs Claire's. I was genuinely surprised that when Claire gave him encouragement for passing the fire suppression test he looked at it like it was nothing, not a smile, not even a reply, just a blank expression. This is his 'girlfriend' and her encouragement means very little to him apparently.

Then there's Sydney. Though we didn't get to see them text often this season, or his reaction to her messages. Last season, we saw him smiling like a teenager when she told him to shove his idea up his ass. Now, the fact that Carmy texted Sydney before opening Mikey's letter shows just how important their relationship is to him, he couldn't fathom reading what his brother wrote him without first mending their own broken partnership. In a way, them mending their relationship was the encouragement he needed to open the letter and HE is the one that reaches out for that, HE is the one that texts Sydney first.

So yeah, that's all I have really. I noticed it and I thought I'd share my thoughts on here. I'd love to hear what everyone else thinks!

#sydney x carmy #sydcarmy #carmen x sydney #carmy x syd #syd x carmy #carmy x sydney #the bear fx #the bear hulu #the bear #jeremy allen white #ayo edebiri #sydney adamu #carmen berzatto #don't know why this isn't showing in the tags

555 notes · View notes

slvthrs · 8 months

Text

ALL THE THINGS WE MEANT TO SAY | vinnie hacker

— MINORS PLEASE FUCK OFF FOR UR OWN GOOD —

one stupid red hoodie makes it impossible for you to do anything and the only thing you can do is try to give it back

OLD BSF!VINNIE X FEM!READER

WARNINGS: NSFW CONTENT MINORS DNI, ANGSTY, + some fluff, sex, making out, grinding, oral (f receiving) praise kink, cheating, they're both not the best people but they're in love

word count: 4.7k <3

This dumb fucking hoodie.

I don’t know what to do with it.

I’ve had it for a week now and it’s been sitting on my desk, folded perfectly and untouched. The red on it is slightly faded and cat hair covers it instead of dog now but it still is the same crewneck that I loved on Vinnie and the same one I would wear every time I slept over at his.

But now I can’t even touch it. It smelt like him, it felt like him, it was just so Vinnie and it was too much for me.

3 days I spent trying to just ignore it despite everything my friends said, also trying to ignore Vinnie’s calls and texts.

And now I’ve spent 2 hours on a call with my best friend, Bowie, debating what to do with that stupid hoodie.

“I swear to god just get rid of it, burn it, rip it to shreds I don’t know babe just do something to get rid of it.” Bowie argues

She’s always been better at relationships than me. To the point that she and her girlfriend were planning for their one year anniversary in 2 weeks while I was her worried about a boy I haven’t seen in years.

“I can’t get rid of it, Bow.” I sigh

“Oh c’mon! Vinnie slept with you and literally RAN away the next day and refused to talk to you for 3 years, PLUS he has a girlfriend… you know you deserve better!”

“I know, you're right but I just can’t Bowie, I’m sorry.”

“Why,” She exclaims, “What is so special about this stupid hoodie and Vinnie?”

…

“I actually think I’m gonna die, Mom please hurry up.” I sigh, clutching my stomach.

We’ve been on the road for 5 hours now and we haven’t taken a single bathroom brake since we couldn’t spot a gas station but my bladder was screaming at me

“You're so dramatic, y'know that right?” Vinnie quips from the seat next to me causing me to throw my bag at his chest.

He’s sitting with his headphones in, playing some game on his console with the light from the window shining on the side of his face illuminating his side profile so perfectly.

The pain in my stomach doesn’t stop and I bend forward resting my head against the seat in front of me with my hands holding my stomach tight.

I feel a hand rubbing on my back and I realize it’s Vinnie trying to help and then suddenly I feel a sharp pain in my stomach and everything just clicks.

I’m on my fucking period.

“Mom,” I say, my voice hoarse. “Please tell me you found a bathroom, I’m pretty sure I just got my goddamn period.”

She tries to reassure me and turns into a parking lot while Vinnie keeps rubbing my back and offers me food to which I throw it at his face.

We finally get to a run down bath station which I run into with everything I need and I’m able to clean up but there's still a huge stain in my pants and for some reason I feel tears well up in my eyes and I just sit on the point seat for about 5 minutes until I finally force myself to wipe my tears and get up.

I walk back to the car but I hear a voice shouting at me from behind.

“Hey wait up!” It’s Vinnies, he’s holding a bag with snacks and a hoodie in his right hand, leaving the shop nearby.

“Take this, it’ll cover your pants up, plus it’s a Washington sweatshirt, and your favorite color!”

It’s a pretty red with white letters spelling out our state. It’s too big for me, most probably Vinnie’s size.

It’s cute.

He helps me wrap the sweatshirt around my waist and walks with my back to the car right next to me.

We settle back into our seats and thank god that no blood spilled onto the car seat.

With all the bags and the fact that we were in the back with the rest of our families in the front plus Vinnie basically grew a foot over the year, we were crammed together in the back seats with our legs hitting the others and our shoulders touching.

I end up plugging my headphones in and listening to music while staring outside the window, looking at the trees and the sky trying to take in nature but not even 30 minutes in and my stomach hurts again.

I try to hold it but Vinnie realizes and dumps the plastic bag of all the stuff he brought on my lap.

I look into it and I see chocolate, all my favorite candy and snacks, bottles of my favorite soda and medicine in there.

He didn’t buy anything for himself, he only bought stuff for me.

“Thank you Vin.” But my voice comes out no louder than a whisper.

“Eh, don't sweat it, you're awful on your period.” He laughs and I punch him in the shoulder.

“Asshole.” I mutter.

I end up falling asleep with my head on his shoulder listening to Ivy by Frank Ocean.

I never forgot that roadtrip; it was 2 years before Vinnie left for LA.

…

“You just don’t get it Bow, I can’t get rid of it!” I reiterate.

The phone call goes silent as I droop against my head board sighing.

My eyes roam back to the hoodie again.

I should give it back to him.

“What if I give it back to him?” I mutter to Bowie

“Babe no,” She continues, “You're using this as an excuse to go see him and it’s not gonna end up well.”

“But Bow-” I try to reason with her but she cuts me off.

“C’mon, we both know you shouldn’t go see him.”

“I know, I know. I’ll call you tomorrow; Love you.” I tell her

“I love you too, get some rest.” And she ends the call

I lay down on my bed staring back up at the ceiling.

Bowie is right, I’m just trying to make an excuse to see Vinnie and he probably doesn’t even want the hoodie back.

My mind goes blank as I stare up at the wall.

Bowie is right.

But I rarely ever do what’s right.

I get up and grab the hoodie, the bag it came with along with my phone and car keys and walk down to the parking lot and before I realize it I’m punching in the code to Vinnie’s house I got from Harvey into the GPS and driving off.

The road is wet from the rain which happens once in a blue moon and there is a surprisingly few number of cars on the road for this city but I try to look at that as a positive.

I try to put some music on and it auto plays to ‘White Ferrari’ by Frank Ocean and suddenly I remember this is an awful idea.

What if he’s home with Allison?

What if he doesn’t wanna see me?

What if he refuses to take the hoodie back?

What if I make a fool of myself?

Panic racks up in my brain and thousands of ‘what ifs’ terrify me. Just the thought of Vinnie not wanting to see me makes me wanna drive my car off a bridge but I try to push every negative thought away.

I skip the next few songs until my phone lands on “Black Beauty” by Lana Del Rey.

Every single day after Vinnie got his license we would blast this song, screaming the lyrics and staying out until our parents would call us home.

He loved to drive and I loved just sitting there in his presence, not even talking just being there with each other, it was our favorite thing to do together.

Now I have to drive myself everywhere in a black Honda Civic.

…

“This car is actually fucked you don’t get it like everything about it is broke what the hell did my dad make me fix this shit? I fucking hate Hondas.” Vinnie whines, he loves fixing cars but still always drags me to sit there and watch him do it whilst I text my friends.

The dust and oil lay cover his face whilst he sits there with black gloves and poking and prodding under the hood of the car.

“Oh c’mon are you even listening to me?”

“Yes yes I promise! And why don’t you just tell your dad you can’t fix this car?” I tilt my head to the side practically begging to finish this up.

“No, I’m gonna finish this and then we’re going out for ice cream.” He says with his chest puffed like it’s an amazing, unthinkable plan.

“Whatever Hacker, at least this car is cool.” I say sliding my hand across the shine of the black.

“It’s not. You just like every black car.” He shrugs but he’s right, I love black cars.

“Hey when we grow up I’ll buy you a black JDM so we can match.” He huff’s and I can feel a smile tugging the corners of my lips.

“We both know I’ll be the one making enough money to buy a car.”

“Whatever, as long as I get to drive you around in it.” He replies

I smile to myself imagining Vinnie and I when we were old still doing the same things we did as kids, driving and smoking until the sun comes up.

A familiar feeling in my stomach rises as we return to doing our own thing and I return to texting on my phone.

“Who have you been texting so much anyways?” He asks about 10 minutes putting some random tool down and picking up another

“No one Vin, it’s just that guy from that skate shop, he’s actually kinda cool I think you would like him!”

“Oh.” He replies in that voice he gets when he tries to not get mad

“Yeah! He asked me to go on a date with him to a skatepark.” I reply beaming.

“You're joking right? I ask you to go every week but you never do,” He reminds me whilst twisting something inside the car, “ But you’ll go with the sketchy guy from a skate park who always smells like weed and let me remind you, I’m literally a better skater than he is!”

“Dude it’s not that serious it’s just some dumb date!” I raise my voice at him but I don’t even understand why

“Fuck fine whatever just don’t come back crying when the date goes horribly with that guy.” He retorts staring dagger in my direction

“Whatever, I'm not gonna come back crying and you're just being a dick cause no one wants to go out with you.” I walk off when I finish leaving Vinnie in his dad’s garage.

Vinnie was right however, the date went terribly that night. He picked me up an hour late and all we did was smoke and walk around and when I wanted to leave he got pissed I didn’t hook up with him.

I ended up walking by foot to Vinnie’s house and ended up spending the rest of the evening crying into Vinnie’s familiar red Washington crewneck.

That was 3 weeks before Vinnie left for LA.

…

The drive feels like it’s going so slow.

My mind is so scattered that I keep zoning out until the robotic voice of the GPS snaps me out of my self induced trance.

The closer I get to Vinnie’s house the harder it gets to breathe and the more my mind keeps disassociating.

My eye’s keep getting foggy and I start getting scared that I shouldn’t be driving in this condition.

I run my hands through my hair, pulling at the roots.

It’s dry, I need to put oil in it.

I watch as the lights flash from red to green and watch as the trees sway due to the rain, watching stray’s scatter across the road’s and how my windshield wipers turn from one side to another trying to flick all the water droplets off.

The more breaths I take, the shallower they get before I finally decide to pull over on the side of the road.

My head falls against the wheel as I try to relax, forcing myself to take slow deep breaths, in through my nose and out of my mouth.

But I jolt my head back up as I get a call, grabbing my phone and picking it up, praying it’s not Bowie.

“Hello?” I whisper into my phone

“Jesus, Y/n where the fuck are you?” Vinnie replies back at me

“Vinnie? What the hell are you talking about?” My voice rises

“Outside your house, I’ve been waiting for like 10 minutes, where are you?” I can hear the rain pattering on the other side of the call.

“Fuck, I have a key under my doormate, I was just…out.” I half-lie.

“Just get here okay?” His voice is softer now and I can hear him unlock my door and walk in, ending the call.

What the fuck.

What is Vinnie doing at my house?

How does he even know where I live?

A thousand questions race through my head as I take my car out of park and turn it to drive back to my house, pressing on the gas and driving as fast as I can.

I arrive back there in about fifteen minutes and as I pull my car into the parking spot I suddenly become very aware of what I left the house wearing.

It was my black bralette and a pair of low rise sweats and I slammed my head against my wheel again.

I’m not going to see Vinnie in this yet there's nothing in my car to cover me up.

I mentally swear at myself for not thinking ahead enough cause even if I got to Vinnie’s house was I really gonna walk in wearing just a bralette and sweats?

The only thing in this car, besides me, is that red hoodie sitting right next to me, basically taunting me.

The stupid hoodie I tried to ignore for a week, sitting there, being my only option- it was like karma.

I slip the hoodie over my head as the neckline dangles over my shoulder. The sleeves are far too big and threads are coming loose. But one thing is most noticeably different, it’s scent.

What used to be old Axe body spray mixed with sweat, weed and dog smell, is now Dior cologne, teakwood, with smoke but with something else.

It’s pretty lavender and the essence of pineapple- Allison’s scent.

He gave our hoodie to her.

The hoodie he gave me he gave her.

I take a second to breathe again, letting the cool air enter my body and try to cool me off in the process.

I get so entranced in the hoodie that I nearly forget I’m supposed inside with Vinnie.

I slip out of the car and ever so slightly push down the handle walking into my own home with heavy steps, far too upset to try to be quiet.

I slip past the shoe rack and through the mirror and art littering my house.

Barely any lights are on and I can smell coffee from the morning and smoke from earlier in the day as I walk into my living room.

And there he is.

The same guy who left me days after he turned 18, after everything. He’s just sitting on my couch.

His head is tipped back with his hair damp from the rainwater, his legs are spread apart as he has his phone in his right hand whilst his left is fidgeting and picking at the skin surrounding his thumb. It was always his dumb tick that he did when he was stressed and I can’t help but feel worried.

“Vinnie.” I breathe out so desperately it sounds like a prayer

He stands up so fast he nearly loses his balance and he walks over to me in quick, hurried strides as he catches his balance like a baby giraffe running to its mother.

“Fuck I didn’t realise you arrived.” His voice is no louder than mine.

“Why wouldn’t I, Hacker?” His last name is all I can bear to muster to his face, “It is my home isn’t it?”

“That’s not what I meant.” He stops and breathes,”Hey, you're wearing the hoodie.”

A smile bleeds onto his face and a light blush quickly accompanies it.

“Yeah all my other hoodies were in the wash.”

And the smile fades away.

“Oh, of course.” He stops for a second, “But um, where were you?”

“It’s funny actually I was on my way to your house.” I chuckle to myself avoiding eye contact with Vinnie but he doesn't laugh.

He steps closer to me and now he’s towering right above me

“Why were you coming to my house?” He asks, his eyebrows knit together, looking at me confused.

His hands gently pull my chin up so I can look at him and for a second he looks like the same guy I fell in love with for the first time.

But I pull away, it’s not the same.

It’s never going to be the same again.

“I wanted to give you your hoodie back.” I say looking away from him

“But it’s not mine… I gave it you to keep-” I cut him off

“I don’t care Vinnie, you have a girlfriend, I haven’t seen you in 3 years I didn’t want your stupid hoodie asshole, I wanted you.”

I say the last part before I realize what I just said with shaky eyes and a stuttered breath.

Everything goes quiet, we don’t say a word, we don’t even move. The only sound in my house is the dripping of my broken sink and the brushing of the plants across the wall.

“Fine.”

“What?”

“Fine, give me the hoodie. It’s what you wanted to do anyways.”

Is he fucking serious right now?

“Sure whatever.” I grit through my teeth

I pull the plush of the hoodie off letting it settle in my hands before passing it back to Vinnie and then bringing my hands back up to my chest trying to cover myself up.

He takes the hoodies and holds it in his hand whilst his eyes rake over my body, going over the curves, watching as my skin ebbs and flows from my bralette into my sweatpants and as my hair sits, flowing over my shoulder like I’m the prettiest thing in the world.

“Allison.” I spit out like venom, a lot meaner than I intended, trying to catch Vinnie’s attention again.

“Huh?” He asks, his tone bleeding with disinterest

“Your girlfriend… remember?”

“Right.” Yet he still doesn’t look away from me.

His eyes rake all over my body watching, trying to memorize everything that has changed over the past 3 years. He’s trying to take everything in.

“You should leave Vin.” I say trying to stay stern

“Sure,” He shrugs off before he snaps out of his trance, “Wait what?”

He’s making this all so hard, I try so hard to ignore the way his gaze makes the hairs at the back of my neck stand up and causes butterflies to erupt in my stomach.

I try to pretend I’m not talking to Vinnie.

“I said you should go Hacker.”

“Wait, why?” He asks with that glint in his eyes.

It’s such a dumb question and we both know the answer to it but Vinnie tries so hard to pretend he doesn’t know why.

“Cause I’m trying to be strong for both of us, Vinnie.”

“Don’t be.” His voice is so quiet as he steps closer to me, his hand resting on my forearm whilst his other one holds on to the hoodie that got me in this circumstance in the first place

It takes me so much strength to not lean into his touch.

“You have a girlfriend.” I breathe out, looking right at him.

“I have a girlfriend.” He repeats but his tone is so much more soothing.

“We’re gonna fuck everything up.” I say and get a familiar feeling of deja vu

“We might fuck everything up,” He stops for a second, “But how could we fuck things up even more?”

He’s right.

This relationship is already doomed.

His eyes flick down to my lips and suddenly my hands are looped around his neck with our lips pressed together, his hands trails down my waist and he grabs both my legs, hooking them around his waist.

Our lips push against each other whilst my hands pull and tug in his hair, they trail down his face and I push them under his shirt.

He swipes his tongue across the bottom of my lip and his grasp on my thighs causing me to moan into the kiss, letting the kiss grow deeper and letting both of us gasping and moaning into each other's mouths, afraid that the moment would end.

We end up falling on to my couch, him towering over placing sweet kisses all over my neck and trailing down farther, trying to make up for the years we spent apart.

The kisses quickly turn into love bits and his roaming hands quickly start taking off the clothes we have on, my bralette falls onto the floor and Vinnie’s shirt is thrown over the armrest.

Gushes of cold air fly through my window and both tighten our grasps on each other in a futile attempt to cool us down, his hips grinding over my cunt and my nails dig into his back to try to get closer to him.

His hips are so unbearably slow whilst his lips are so fast and his hands play a tantalizing game scratching, clawing, and massaging the plush of my skin.

His lips are so chapped but they still feel nice, in between mine as he slipped his tongue in between the warmth of my lips.

I need to buy him chapstick

“Fuck I missed you so much.” He moans into my lips as his hands fall down in between my thighs and his hands slowly undo the knot and pull my pants along with my underwear off leaving my fully exposed under him as he dips his head below.

Faint kisses are placed all over my lower stomach and as they get closer to the inside of my thighs they turn into bites and my airy gasps turn into echoey moans as they bounce around my house coating the walls as my chest heaves up and down and my hands flow along the curves of his shoulder, tracing the muscles there.

“So pretty,” He heaves out, “So so fucking pretty.” His tongue lapped at my cunt, focusing on my clit whilst my eyes rolled to the back of my head.

My legs contorted as my right hand pulled and yanked in his hair whilst my left clawed through his back gaining a hiss from the blonde under me.

It didn’t take long before I came into his mouth with him sucking at my clit and vulgar moans and curse fell through my lips.

He lifted his head up back to see me and I could see the lower side of his face glistening whilst his eyes had darkened with lust to the point the faint brown looked like pools of rich obsidian ink.

He heaved above me before diving back into attacking my neck and lips and my hands returned around his neck.

“Fuck Vinnie,” It slips from my lips whilst his neck is sucking beautiful amethyst marks onto my neck, “God where did you learn how to do that.”

“Oh shut up.” He laughs continuing kissing me all over whilst his finger slowly and tantalizing play with my already swollen cunt.

My hands trail down his chest, feeling my hands go over his muscles reaching to the base of his pants I tug at the belt, whining, asking for permission to take them off.

“Please Vin.”

He laughs, “Please what baby?”

“Fuck me please.” I ask undoing his buckle and try to pull his belt off, right before he stops me, his hands grabbing mine.

“Jesus, were you always this bossy when we were kids?” His eyebrow quirks up, “Ask nicely.”

It’s a command that sends a shiver down my spin and I relax into his touch.

“Please.”

“Do you know what 'nicely' means?” He teases

“Vinnie, please.” I whine, looking up at him through my lashes and I watch as he breaks above me.

Years could go by and I will always know what’ll break him.

“I hate you.” He whispers onto my lips and pulls his pants down.

When he finally starts fucking me it takes me a second to get re-used to his size but when he finally starts thrusting into me I hide my head into his neck to try and subdue my voice.

My legs wrapped around his waist as my hands marked his back with red lines.

He sped up his pace and I arched into his touch, my heart was pounding in my chest and Vinnie wasn’t giving me a break.

He held me down by my hips and as I looked up at him I could see his eyebrows knitted together, looking as if he was focusing on making me feel good.

My hands laced their fingers together behind his head as I looked back into his eyes staring at him.

We stayed like that for a bit right before he dipped his head down kissing along my chest and placing kisses along my tits, covering them in marks and bites, sucking hickies all over them and marking them up.

His kisses moved upwards towards my neck and ear and he placed more kisses along my neck and bit my earlobe whimpering and moaning, making sure I could hear how easily and quickly he fell apart for me.

As we both got closer to our ends his pace became relentless, slamming into me, hooking my leg over his shoulder to get a better anger and more illicit, pornographic moans to fall from my lips.

When he finally came in me, he fell on top of me and we both breathed out trying to catch our breaths.

We stayed there for a bit to try to cool down.

He ended up cleaning me up and we just lay there on my sofa, my body swung over his as my head lay on his chest.

I trace his tattoos with my nails listening to his heartbeat and the sounds of satisfaction he makes whenever I scratch certain spots.

His hands trace my back ever so slowly whilst his other one lies behind his head, propping him up.

The room had quickly gone from being filled with moans of ecstasy and the sound of skin coming together to my voice humming and Vinnie breathing ever so gently.

We don’t say a word to each other but look up and his hand pushes away the hair on my face and lifts my chin up so he can place a gentle kiss on my lips.

We just stay in the kiss looking into each other's eyes and I truly let myself believe that we could be together.

I imagine us back home in Seattle, just us.

Everything’s the same. Ponchos sitting on his bed with his head in my lap. Vinnie’s playing some new game that just came out.

And he never left for LA.

He never left me.

I let myself forget for a moment and convinced myself that I didn’t just sleep with the man who left me all alone but rather I slept with the man that I truly thought I was going to end up marrying when I was a young girl.

I let myself forget.

But before we can deepen the kiss Vinnie’s phone buzzes and when he picks it up he sees her name.

Allison.

And without another word Vinnie puts on his clothes and leaves me there.

All over again.

But this time Inew what would happen but I still did it.

I lie there in my underwear staring at the ceiling and turn my gaze to the floor.

He left the red hoodie.

At this point I have no shame, I pick it up and slip it over my head and it smells so different.

It smells of sweat, mistakes, and all the things we meant to say.

#bella fawns over vhacker #vinnie hacker smut #vinnie hacker x reader smut #vinnie hacker x reader #vinnie hacker imagines #vhackerr #vincent hacker #vinnie hacker oneshot #vinnie hacker #vinnie hacker x you #vinnie x reader #vinnie imagines #vinnie #vinnie hacker fluff #vinnie x reader fluff #bella's full works #vinnie hacker angst #vinnie x reader angst #vinnie hacker x reader angst

366 notes · View notes

theeoriginals · 5 months

Note

klaus or elijah (your choice) x former flame!reader 👀

all i want | elijah mikaelson

+ Ohhh I loved your cat and mouse one! Could you please make a calm housewife/mom of the friend group type of girl and Elijah falling for her in a kind of best friend to lovers situation? Idk I just think it would fit cause elijah’s very family oriented and I see him falling for a dear old time friend too? Idk so uhm yeah. Feel free to refuse ofc!

elijah mikaelson x vampire!reader (no y/n)

author's notes; combining these requests :) hope that's ok!!

warnings; vague references to past violence but nothing insane. exes to friends to lovers, just plotless fluff, with an extra side of fluff. yes elijah is extremely charming, yes he can't make eye contact with a pretty girl. duality of man.

It’s an unspoken thing, what lingers between them still. Unspoken in the sense that they don’t talk about it, but everyone else does.

It always shocks people to learn that the oldest vampires on Earth are ridiculous, catty gossips. Elijah doesn’t know why it’s such a surprise. Living as long as they all have, you’ve got to keep things interesting, otherwise immortality becomes mind-numbing. He supposes that it just doesn’t measure up to their reputation for being ruthless animals, which isn’t unfounded. It’s just not the only thing they could be classified as.

Ruthless monsters that defend each other to the death at the end of the day, no matter how many times they’ve stabbed each other in the backs, certainly. Childish gossips that like to start rumors and rewrite history when they get a little bored, definitely. The two identifiers can coexist, and very much do.

And this thing, this unspoken thing that is unspoken for a multitude of reasons but none more so than the simple fact that even as long as they’ve known each other it’s still fragile, and something could break it with ease, is only unspoken to Elijah.

His brothers and sisters, however, like to do nothing but talk about it.

“Well, she’s almost here,” Rebekah rolls her eyes, but it’s just for the fact that her older brother is going to be a lovesick idiot the entire time the girl is here, and it really takes away from Rebekah’s own quality time with her. “No wonder Elijah’s been bumbling around like a fool all day.”

Klaus chuckles, and the two of them dutifully ignore the glare their brother sends them. “Do you think she sent him a letter to announce her arrival? Elijah always loves things like that,”

Rebekah’s blue eyes light up. “Oh, yes! I wonder if she sprayed it with her perfume– us ladies used to do that with a suitor back in the day,” She fans a hand towards her face, closing her eyes at the small breeze it creates. “They don’t text or call, of course, it takes all of the personality out of it. And god knows Elijah’s all personality,”

Klaus laughs again, and the two finally glance across the room to where Elijah’s leaning against a wall, glaring at them with his arms crossed over his chest.

“I hate you both,” He says, earning another round of laughter from them. “And stop going through my things, Rebekah. Those letters are none of your business.”

The blonde girl pushes her lips out in a pout. “But I get so bored, Elijah. You can’t be mad at me for entertaining myself,”

“I fear he just hates fun, dear sister,” Klaus says, feigning a wistful tone. “He doesn’t approve of my methods of entertainment either.”

“That’s because your methods of entertainment always end in a bloodbath,” Elijah says accusingly, earning a shrug from the hybrid. “You’re both immature. A thousand years old, still acting like children.”

Their faces twist in offense in unison, and Elijah distantly thinks that even though they’re not even fully related, let alone the same age even in their vampiric years, they were twins put on this Earth to terrorize him and ensure that he never knew peace.

Before they can begin their outcries of dramatized offense, and Elijah can continue to lightheartedly mock them, a voice comes from the hall, echoing fondly.

“Must you two always tease your brother?” The smile is obvious in her voice as she walks into the room, and the three of them snap their gazes towards the woman in surprise. “He’s a delicate soul, you know. His poor heart can’t handle too many jokes,”

Elijah recovers quickly, rolling his eyes, though he can’t (and won’t) stop the smile from growing on his face as she meets Rebekah for a hug. “Oh, wonderful. That’s just what they need. Encouragement.”

She chuckles at his poorly-feigned exasperation, and the sound settles in his ears like a morning dove’s song. She releases Rebekah from the hug and leans down to where Klaus is stretched out in a chair with his feet kicked up on the table, pressing a kiss to his cheek.

Glancing around at the vaulted ceilings of the compound, she sighs wistfully. “I can’t believe this place looks the same as when you bought it,” She shakes her head in slight disbelief.

Klaus shrugs, crossing his arms over his chest. “When we first returned, there was some… cleaning up to do, but it’s maintained its shape wonderfully.”

If she catches onto his double entendre, she doesn’t say anything, just nods in understanding. That’s something Elijah has always liked about her– she lets things go unsaid. She’s always had the ability to connect with him and his siblings in a way that most others can’t, and even when Elijah is at his worst, she’s been that olive branch that he can grab onto to bring him back to himself. Always so understanding and level. It’s a wonder that she still associates with any of them, given their penchant for chaos.

Finally, she turns her attention onto him, and in its entirety he feels breathless. Even after decades of knowing one another, it’s never gotten easier to hide his ardor for her. He knows she can still read him as easily as she could thirty years ago, too.

“Elijah,” She says his name better than he’s ever heard it, with a tilt to her head and a fondness in her voice that makes him feel more alive than anything else he’s found in his centuries on this planet.

She crosses the room to where he’s at, because he froze in his spot as soon as he heard her voice, and wraps her arms around him like she’s never been more relieved to see him.

It’s another thing he’s always liked about her. She’s never stopped loving him. He knows that. Lives with it everyday.

Regrets a lot of things, too.

He says her name back as gently as he can, like she’ll break in his arms. He wonders if she thinks of all the times she has broken in his arms, and then he tells himself there’s no way she’s forgotten it, because he hasn’t. And that is something that is theirs and theirs alone.

She pulls away and he misses her touch the moment she goes because it feels rarer and rarer with each day that passes. Every time she leaves, he fears it’s the last time he’ll see her.

He doesn’t want to ruin her visit with these thoughts. Even though he knows she’d offer him endless comfort, he doesn’t want her to worry about him for a second.

She turns to face them, clapping her hands together with a smile. “Well, then. What’s first on the agenda?”

──────

Something that comes with living as long as Elijah has is learning that some things about yourself you’ll just never be able to change. Such things like being a vampire in itself, having a firm hand when it comes to doing business with people. He’s been told he’s somewhat of a snake, and he’s well aware of his silver tongued ways, and it’s something he knows he can’t change, and hasn’t ever wanted to.

One thing that has yet to fall under that category of acceptance is his jealousy.

In his defense, he’s never jealous when he thinks he should be. He’s never been jealous of his siblings, spare for a few embarrassing months spent around the doppelgängers, but Elijah has never had to envy someone for something they had because if he wanted it that bad, he could just take it.

But this. This he knows is jealousy, pure and unbridled, and nauseating, if he’s feeling that correctly.

This is the jealousy that he’s seen destroy entire regimes. This is the jealousy that has driven his family to madness at times.

And of course, she’s at the center of it all. Of course she is. There would be no other way he could feel this so strongly if she was not involved in it somehow.

She’s the source of a lot of jealousy, he knows. He’s jealous of the carefree relationships his siblings get to have with her because they don’t have to be burdened with the feelings of the past that are most definitely still there. They don’t have to worry if they looked at her lips for too long, or if they held her a little too gentle to be considered entirely friendly. They don’t have to worry about saying the wrong thing, stepping past that line they so carefully drew in the sand for everyone’s sake.

These are the consequences of his actions, he knows. It doesn’t make it any easier to deal with, though. It might make it worse.

Watching his siblings drink freely as the band played on was nothing unfamiliar. Patrons had long since joined in on the fun, and he’s sure there’s a crowd outside looking in on the celebration of unknown origins.

At the center of it all, she is there, standing on a table with a crowd of adoring admirers surrounding her as she swayed and moved to the music. He would swear there’s a light shining on her, just for her, projecting her shadow above everyone like some sort of angel. He thinks she has every right to be worshiped.

And the reason he’s so maddeningly, bitingly jealous is because he is the reason that he’s not the one dancing with her. He can’t be the one to dance with her, and he can’t be the one that makes her laugh like she is because he’s the one that said they shouldn’t be together. He is the one who broke her heart, and he doesn’t deserve an ounce of the kindness she still shows.

So all he can do is sip his drink at the bar and watch as she pulls his sister, sweet, dangerous, devastatingly insecure Rebekah, up onto the table with her and shares her spotlight with her. Making his sister light up like she does with no one else. Earning another round of cheers from Klaus and Kol as they watch on, demanding another round of drinks for everyone in an odd show of generosity.

She brings out the best in his siblings. In him.

It makes him burn bright inside. Boiling, hot to the touch. He knows then and there that there’s a reason he’s seen something as trivial as jealousy take down the most powerful of men. Love is such a dangerous thing to get involved in in the first place, but finding someone, finding the woman who makes you feel like you could conquer the world is something else entirely. It bypasses dangerous and heads straight into fatal.

Because she makes you feel like you could conquer the whole world, but the second you lose her, it all means nothing. You’ll tear it all down if it means she won’t be there, too.

And the worst part of it all is the only reason he feels like this is because he is the one that ruined it. Blamed his family, blamed his parents, blamed everything else but his own fears for the reason they couldn’t be together. The distance, the timing. Whatever he could grasp, he pulled it out of his pocket and gave it to her on a silver platter, served with a distant coldness he’d long since perfect, and never wanted to use on her in the first place.

He had so much time under his belt, but he was such a child. So helpless it bordered on criminal, all because he fell in love and he didn’t know what to do with it.

It’s embarrassing more than anything else.

He hasn’t taken his eyes off of her since she started dancing. Hadn’t stopped listening since he heard her first laugh. Didn’t want to miss a single second, just in case.

For the first time all night, he blinked and turned his head away from her and threw the rest of his drink back like it was water.

He could allow himself a bit more wallowing. Just a bit.

──────

“Well, Rebekah’s safe in bed. I even got her in pajamas, believe it or not,” Her voice carries even in its whisper, and he looks up from his lap as she enters the small living space, hands clasped in front of her as she takes a seat in the chair beside him. “Original vampire or not, I doubt she’ll feel very good in the morning.”

Elijah hummed, thinking of his dear sister and how even if she’d healed a thousand times over, she’d still find a way to complain. He adored it.

“What about you?”

He raises a brow, lips twisting confusedly. “What about me?”

She gestures towards his slightly slumped form on the couch pointedly. He follows her direction, looking at his rumpled suit, and the white button up he’d undone the top four buttons off, at least. He feels momentarily embarrassed at his state of disarray but he simply huffs out a laugh, lifting his gaze to meet hers again.

“I’m a mess,” He shrugs, earning a quiet laugh out of her. “But I don’t think that has anything to do with our drinking tonight.”

“I can’t disagree, unfortunately,”

He hides the way his grin threatens to split his face behind his face, rubbing along his scruffy jawline as he looks at her. The longer he lingers, the more she avoids his gaze.

“What?”

He shakes his head.

“Elijah,” She intones, such a familiar adoration in her voice that it nearly makes him sick. He doesn’t deserve it. “You’ve been so quiet tonight. What’s on your mind?”

“You,”

Her eyes widen in shock at his quick, candid answer, and he has to hide his own surprise at how quick the word had shot out of his mouth.

“Me? What about me?”

“Everything,” He sighs, shifting his long legs so he could turn towards her and give her his full attention. “I’ve missed you.”

“Oh,” She breathes out, looking slightly bashful. “Well, I always miss you. I wouldn’t ever leave if I didn’t–”

She stops herself, covering her mouth with her hand as a sheepish look crosses her face. He knows she wants him to move past her slip up, but he doesn’t. Can’t.

“If you didn’t, what?” He leans forward, looking at her imploringly. “Why do you stay away so long?”

She takes a moment to collect herself, picking at the skin around her nails half-heartedly, like it’s not really bothering her, she just doesn’t want to be so open right now. He’d feel worse about pushing her if he didn’t feel like his heart was leaping out of his throat.

“Well, I didn’t think you wanted me around that much,” She says quietly, gesturing towards him.

He rears back like she’s slapped him.

“How could you ever think such a thing?” He whispers her name, a distant veil of horror laced in his tone. Fear, really.

“You said,” She says, face furrowing in confusion. “All those years ago– you said that there was no reason for me to stay here with you in New Orleans. So, I– I left. And I travel all the time until I come back here for as long as you’ll let me.”

Elijah feels something gripping his chest and it feels remarkably like his heart is breaking.

His voice breaks on her name and he leans forward again, reaching into her space to grab her hands in his. Allowing himself this piece of her that he simply doesn’t deserve.

“I never,” He stops, breathing out harshly. “I never wanted you to leave. I just–”

He stops again, squeezes her hands, and then steels himself because this is the least he owes her.

“You deserved more than to be stuck here with my family,” He starts slowly. “I never– I never wanted you to leave. Every time you walk out of those doors, I want to chase you down and make you stay. You have to believe me when I say that I only ever wanted you to be happy, and you wouldn’t have found that stuck here in the mess we had made back then.”

There’s a poignant silence that settles as she processes his words, and he holds the ragged breath that builds in his chest when she begins to drag her thumbs along the backs of his hands, smoothing at the skin there. Ever so gentle.

“All I’ve ever wanted was to be here with you and your family,” She says, shaking her head like she’s scolding him, even though her tone is anything but. “Being here makes me happier than any place I’ve traveled to. And I’m– I’m truly grateful that you had my best interest in mind, Elijah, but you have to understand,”

She trails off and an incredulous laugh leaves her lips as she smiles at him. “I’ve loved you my entire life. And my heart used to break every day knowing that I’d only have a short time with you. When I turned, I was so– I was so happy because I suddenly had the rest of time to be with you. And you… you broke my heart, Elijah. You truly did,”

She presses her thumbs into his skin firmly, just a pressure point to punctuate her words. “But I have never stopped loving you. And every time I walked out of those doors and left you behind, my heart broke again. You wouldn’t have ever had to make me stay. That’s all I’ve ever wanted to do.”

Elijah’s breath stalls in his chest, and lets it out slowly, shakily. There’s a distant string of hope he lets himself pull on, just this once. Because she let him.

He meets her gaze and smiles softly, just for her. “Will you stay, then? I’m– I’m asking you, truly. Will you stay?”

She nods before he even finishes speaking and laughs quietly, the sound just for him. “Of course I will, Elijah. I’ll stay as long as you want me to,”

“Forever,”

��Forever, then. I’ll stay forever.”

#elijah mikaelson #klaus mikaelson #rebekah mikaelson #the vampire diaries #the vampire diaries fanfiction #kol mikaelson #the originals #fic recs #elijah mikaelson x reader #elijah mikaelson fanfiction #elijah mikaelson imagine #elijah mikaelson fluff #the originals fanfiction

218 notes · View notes

ssentimentals · 7 months

Text

like a sunflower {choi hansol}

pairing: hansol x fem!reader

prompt: 'your heart is beating so fast right now' (this work is part of my 1k event, go check out other works of mine here )

warnings: none, this is pure fluff!

hansol doesn't know how to do it. how to just- say it. words are usually so easy for him, they spring themselves into sentences and lyrics so effortlessly, so he doesn't really know why he's having such a hard time here. it's just- how can he say it? how can he tell you that sometimes he feels like he was born for you without making it weird? how he can explain that he thinks a lot about how so many people spend so much time trying to find their place in this world and yet he has no intention searching for it cause his is right next to you? words don't feel quite right whenever he tries to open his mouth and talk about it; words don't do justice to everything what's bubbling and brewing inside his heart, they fall flat when he tries to put it all on the paper. with a frustrated groan, he tears off yet another unfinished love letter, throwing it down.

'you're overthinking it,' joshua admonishes him gently. he's been quietly observing his roommate for the past twenty minutes and starts getting a little anxious at the sight of torn notebook pages at his feet. 'you two are so close, i think she'll understand what you mean even if you won't write an ode to her.'

'i want it to be perfect,' hansol replies, stubbornly tearing up another page. 'she deserves nothing but.'

'don't get so worked up,' joshua pacifies, standing up and coming over to his friend, patting his back comfortingly. 'i don't think she wants perfect, though.'

at this hansol looks up at him, frowning. joshua chuckles, putting his finger right between hansol's eyebrows, making him go a little cross eyed. joshua doesn't know how hansol can be this blind, how he can't see how you two are so close that whoever sees you for the first time always ends up thinking that you're a couple. he's never seen any other two people who care about each other so deeply as you two do, so hansol being nervous before asking you out is laughable. only hansol doesn't find it funny. joshua sighs, patting his roommate's shoulder. 'she doesn't want perfect, she just wants you.'

hansol blinks, mulling over what he heard. it sounds a bit too good to be true, but joshua is not cruel, he'd never joke with him about something so important. before he can properly give this idea a good thought, his phone beeps and from the ringtone alone he knows it's from you. hansol instantly jumps on his bed, ignoring joshua's loud snort at this and unlocks his phone, smiling at the text message from you.

'judging from your smile, i take it she invited you to come over,' joshua speaks, watching with amusement as his friend hastily starts to get dressed. 'what for?'

'i'll help with her halloween prep,' hansol mutters, pulling on his favorite sweater, the one that you gifted him for christmas. he wears it with utmost care, loving the most how you light up at the sight of this sweater on him every single time. 'and she'll help me with my statistics exam.'

'don't forget the umbrella,' joshua's voice reaches him when he's almost out of the door. 'it's gonna rain soon!'

hansol ignores it in favor of rushing to you, zipping up his backpack on the way. the road to your place is his favorite one, he knows every single crook down the alley, every single tree is familiar to him - he spent so many hours memorizing it all, because this road leads him to you and his mind shuffles everything which is even remotely close to you to the folder in his brain called 'important'. he huffs in annoyance when it first rain drops fall on his head and then groans loudly, when two rain drops turn into a full on downpour, making him look around in search of the hideout. without thinking he runs to the nearest shop, announcing his presence with a grunt, blinking up at variety of flowers in front of him in stupor.

'hello, how can i help you?'

he passed this flower shop so many times but never really went it, so young man in dark brown apron,who stares at him too kind eyes, is entirely unfamiliar. hansol clears his throat, helplessly staring back, gesturing towards the exit and mumbling something about the rain.

'oh!' understanding lights up in stranger's eyes and he smiles, nodding. 'seeking shelter from rain? it's fine, you can sit here.'

it's very kind and it makes hansol shuffle from side to side with unease as his eyes take in beauiful array of flowers. there are all kind of them, colors vary from dark to bright ones and sunflowers stick out amongst everything in their yellow-orange glory; hansol takes a step towards them. his eyes gravitated towards them just like they do with you and this thought makes him smile. 'sunflowers are not very popular,' the stranger chimes in, watching hansol with a smile on his face. 'which is a shame, really. they are very beautiful.'

'what do they mean?' hansol asks quietly, not looking away from the flowers. their color is so warm - it reminds him of you. something sparks up at the back of his mind, something that demands his attention as he stares at these flowers.

'hm, adoration in most cases, longevity in others. they are known for being 'happy' flowers, you know? like i'd give them to someone who make me happy, to person who i want to stay in my life for a long, long time.'

hansol blinks and moves on instinct, grabbing bunch of sunflowers due to his inner voice basically screaming at him to do it. 'i'll take those.'

'oh, okay. i can wrap them up in-'

'no-no, i'll take them like that, how much is it?' hansol interrupts, suddenly needing to get out of here and run to you like right now. his heart starts beating faster as ideas form in his head, joshua's voice loud and clear in his head with 'she doesn't want perfect, she just wants you'.

he hastily pays, ignores surprised looks from the guy and runs to you with sunflowers in his hand, getting wet in seconds under the pouring rain. it's cold and his clothes stick to him in the most uncomfortable ways, but his heart is marching so loud in his head, he can't think of anything else but... you. and how you will love these sunflowers. how he's an idiot for trying to capture perfect words in lyrics because perfection in this world exists only in you and nothing else. how he really can shake off any pretense and come to you with an open heart, soaked clothes and unwrapped sunflowers and that you will take him in, because that's what you always did, have done from the start. it's you-you-you and by the time he stands in front of your door, knocking urgently, hansol thinks he might have gone a bit delirious.

'who- oh my god,' you gasp, stopping on tracks at the sight of him. 'hansol, what even-' you blink, gazing in confusion at the flowers in his hand and then back at his wet clothes. there's thousand questions in your head, he can tell, but instead of voicing them out loud, you say: 'get in, god, are you okay?'

is he okay? this questions makes him want to laugh and he barely holds it in. is he okay? he doesn't know but despite the shivers running up and down his body from the cold, he feels like he's on fire. you say something about him being dumb for forgetting umbrella and every second which passes by and he doesn't confess to you feels like a second wasted.

'-you'll catch a cold if you keep on standing in these wet clothes!' you huff, pushing towel in his hands. 'and... um, these flowers..' you trail off, unsure. something ugle tugs in your chest at the thought of these flowers not belonging to you, but you stomp at these feelings. 'do you want me to put them-'

'these are for you,' he rushes out, tripping on his words. 'i mean- obviously. obviously these are for you.' hansol looks down and grimaces: 'i'm soaking your carpet, sorry.' he then quickly looks up, handing you the flowers: 'sorry, here. i hope you like them.'

'sunflowers,' you voice, carefully cradling them in your hands. 'they are beautiful.'

like you is on the tip of his tongue and hansol holds it back but then thinks better of it; why the hell he'd hold back? 'like you,' he says, smiling at surprised look on your face. 'and they make me feel warm just by looking at them and you do, too. i look at you and i- it makes me warm all over.'

you blink at him, not exactly sure what to do with this information. hansol, with this crazy look in his eyes, looks like he's on the brink of fever and you frown, stepping closer to him and feeling up his forehead for any signs of high temperature. 'you're not warm,' you state, buffled.

second passes and hansol huffs in disbelief. he takes your hand in his and moves it towards his chest, knowing very well what you'll find there. just like he predicted, your eyes widen: 'your heart is beating so fast right now.'

'i assume it would, considering how i'm about to confess.'

a stupor and then, cautious and hopeful: 'confess?'

'and ask you out as well,' hansol nods. he's mindful of not pulling you very close, not wanting to get your clothes wet too; but he still tugs at your sleeves so you'd step more in his personal space. this is where he wants you all the time. 'i tore up two notebooks, trying to write you a perfect song, or poem, or love letter. but it's hard cause i can't really find the right words for this feeling, you know? you feel it, don't you know? you know what i'm talking about, right?'

your eyes glow with a keen understanding but you still press on: 'what feeling?'

hansol sighs and when your fingers squeeze at his sweater unconsciously, in tredipation for what's to come, he knows he just needs to be honest: 'like i was made for you. like everything could change, but there's one constant thing in this world and it's us. what you and i have.' he pushes your hand tighter to his chest, searching for your eyes desperately: 'don't you feel it too?'

a fire can break down for all he cares, but he'd never look away from your eyes. you open up to him like a sunflower opens up to the sun, it's a beautiful thing. all you can do is nod, because hansol has always been better with words between you two and because you're afraid your voice might crack in the end from all of the emotions.

'i ran all the way here like a dying man cause one more second without you knowing how i feel just didn't make any sense.'

you shut your eyes, trying not to start crying. hansol, who you always seen as your soulmate, who has always been your side to the point that it's hard to imagine life without him; this hansol is the very same hansol, who tried to write you a perfect song, who ran under the rain here with sunflowers to tell you that he thinks he was made for you. you open your eyes, taking a deep breath. glancing at him and then at the flowers, you smile shakily: 'this is perfect.'

'it is?' he lights up like a little child. 'really?'

'i mean, i never really cared or wanted the perfect, i just wanted you.'

hansol sucks in breath, feeling like he was punched in the gut. god, he really needs to listen to joshua more. he opens his mouth and then tremor wracks his whole body, making him cringe: 'i..really need to change out from these wet clothes.'

sound of your laugh is the music to his ears. he watches the way your head falls back at your laugh and feels love pour out from his pores, unrestricted anymore. he may be shivering of cold now, but just by looking at you he feels warmer. just like a sunflower.

a/n: i think this ended up being way too long and maybe a bit too mushy but!! no blaming me, i had a rough time and i cope by writing something like this. to the anon who requested it - hope you like it! - nini

tagging @prpldahy

#seventeen imagine #seventeen fluff #hansol imagine #hansol fanfic #seventeen hansol #seventeen vernon #vernon chwe #vernon fanfic #vernon #seventeen fanfic #hansol scenario #hansol x reader #seventeen reaction #svt vernon #svt x reader #svt fluff #svt hansol #i am in LOVE with him and this hansol is the only hansol i will accept in fanfics

213 notes · View notes

ughgoaway · 23 days

Text

you're just a stranger I know everything about.

Content warnings; sadness lol, confrontation, crying, a few Taylor references because I am unbearable, swearing, shouting, and just general angst. (no happy ending either oops)

a/n; day 1 of the matty 35 celebration! and what better way to start it than with some teacher au angst?? I know my birthdays always have an air of melancholy, so I feel like this is appropriate. I fear this is rushed and SO bad, but eh, too late now!! anyway, enjoy! maybe? if you can?

word count; 3.5k ish

(this fic is an extension from the "don't you think of me?" universe, which you can read here.)

✿❀✿✿❀✿✿❀✿✿❀✿✿❀✿✿❀✿✿❀✿✿❀✿

The text sits on your phone. Every time the screen starts to dim, you tap it to keep it illuminated, yet you don't reply. You can't. Every muscle in your body feels frozen except that one finger.

Tap. Tap. Tap.

You watched the phone dim, but the name of the contact seemed to stay just as bright, even when the light is as low as it can be, “Matty. DO NOT TEXT.” glows on your screen. The warning was added against your will after a few too many drunk almost-phone calls.

Tap. Tap. Tap.

It’s an hour later when the phone dies. You knew it was coming, watching the percentage of charge drop slowly. You got the 15% warning. Then the 5%. But still, you did the same thing until the screen finally went black.

Tap. Tap. Tap.

You don't need the phone to be lit up to remember what the message said anyway. You’d read it a thousand times over already. You’d analysed it, broken it down, performed autopsies on every single word, each letter was scorched into your brain.

“Hey y/n, long time no talk.

I hope you got my letter, if you didn't read it, that's okay. You already know everything I said. You always knew me better than I did.

Anyway, I know this is a long shot, but it's my birthday party next week, and I just can't imagine celebrating without you there. All I can think about is my last birthday, me and you in Hawaii. I don't expect it to be like that, but I would love it if you came. Even if you just had one drink, we don't have to talk. You can wave at me across the room and stay far, far away. Treat me like I've got the plague for all I care, but just come, please.

Give an old man his birthday wish?

See you there, maybe. I hope so, anyway.

Matty x”

You want to do the same to the text that you did to his letter, burn it to a crisp. But that doesn't exactly seem feasible, considering your phone was £500, and probably not flammable. plus, you had blisters on your fingers for weeks after the letter, and you dont know if it's worth it again.

But you can't deny that the blisters were oddly comforting. Reminding you what you did every time something brushed your digits, that he was gone, and you had the power. The ball was in your court, and you intended it to stay there.

And it was there for months. But Matty ruined that by sending that message, he got the power back whether he intended to or not. And it was made even worse by him telling Charli, and her endless phone calls begging you to come.

You’re so good at telling her its not going to happpen, and every message that comes in gets a firm “no.” or just gets point-blank ignored. She begs, saying that she needs a friend there and that she'll even let you choose a few songs for George’s DJ playlist. But you stay strong, shaking your head and sighing, insisting you've moved on, that chapter of your life is closed, and you'd like to keep it that way.

So you can't help but wonder how you ended up dressed up on a Saturday night standing outside of Matty’s house, bottle of wine gripped in your shaking hands and the distinct noise of your heels clicking against the pavement as you walk towards the house you've done everything you can to forget.

✿✿❀✿✿❀✿✿❀✿✿

As soon as you walk in, you can tell the house is different from how you left it. Obviously, the strobe lights and birthday balloons were new, but even ignoring those, the whole space felt wrong. Even more unforgiving and cold, which was impressive considering every inch was covered with people, dancing and chatting. Still, a lifeless air hung around.

Your eyes darted around, finding the places that you used to occupy. The painting you bought Matty no longer hangs on the wall, replaced by yet another award. You can't help but feel bitter when you see the poster celebrating the album full of songs about you. The spot where your mug used to sit on the counter was empty, but the dark stained ring of coffee remained, forcing you to fight a small smile. maybe he hadn't completely erased you, even if he tried.

People recognise you immediately, and they don't hide their shock well. They might think that they do, smoothly recovering from their initial surprise, but they don't. You see their wide eyes and disbelieving glances, each person acting like you're a ghost haunting the house you once lived in.

You play pretend along with them, smiling as best you can and answering all their questions.

"How's work?"

"How have you been?"

"you seen any good films lately?"

but, you both know you're dancing around the one question they really want to be answered.

why the fuck were you here?

Eventually, the people stop coming, and Charli finds you, plying you with drinks and half-slurred thanks as she begs you to stay for just 5 more minutes. You agree, only because you have yet to catch a glimpse of the birthday boy, and that made everything just bearable.

You quickly regret that decision when you see him not even a minute later, standing by George in the DJ booth smoking a cigarette and laughing in that contagious way he always did. High pitched giggles and his head thrown back.

But he doesn't see you, so it's still okay. You can hang on a few seconds more. Your chest might be tightening with every moment, but you're not suffocating yet.

However, when a tall blonde girl walks over and starts making out with him, it suddenly starts to feel like the room is on fire, and you’re choking on the invisible smoke. The burn of the flames starts to feel all too real when he pulls away from her, though, and his eyes find yours as if they're magnetised together.

The realisation falls over his face immediately, dropping his hand from around her waist and trying desperately to weave through the crowd surrounding him. You don't stay to see if he breaks through the sea of people, already rushing out as fast as you can, forcing your cup into a stranger's hand and moving as fast as your legs can take you.

✿✿❀✿✿❀✿✿❀✿✿

“y/n, stop.” You hear Matty’s voice behind you as you storm out his front door, but you don't turn. It sounds muffled, like you're being pulled underwater, and someone is screaming at you to get up. But the waves keep on pulling you deeper, and his voice becomes more faint with every step you take.

Yet, as soon as the cold air fills your lungs and his skin finally touches yours, you're pulled out. You spin around as soon as his fingers graze your shoulder, acting like even his touch is painful as you wrench away.

It was finally here, the time you were dreading. The time when it was just you, him, and everything that remained unsaid.

His eyes held yours as the silence of the night surrounded you, and you couldn't help but study him like you always did. He looked different. Not better or worse, just different. The colourful lights in the house had been hiding his features.

He had more lines on his face, deeper ones on his forehead, but the ones around his mouth had lightened, his smile lines fading. You could still tell even when it was slicked back with heavy gel that more grey streaks danced through his curls.

His eyes were the same, though. Always so telling, so revealing. If you wanted to know exactly what Matty Healy was thinking, look in his eyes. They spoke more than he did. Which sounds absurd if you’d ever had a conversation with him, but you'd bet your life on it.

You almost start to soften at the sight of him, old memories flooding back. Flashes of warm sun and hot kisses, filthy sex followed by soft breakfasts in bed. But then he speaks. Why do men always do that? Just as you're thinking about saying something and trying defusing the situation, they open their stupid mouth.

“Where are you going?” he asks softly, his chest heaving as he desperately sucks in oxygen, his lungs fighting to catch up.

“Home, Matty. I shouldn't have come. I don't even know why you invited me.” You try to spin and walk away, to finally move on. But of course, Matty’s voice drags you back under once again, and the same water fills your lungs.

“stay, please. i dont know why i invited you either, but I did. I didn't expect you to come. I just-” Matty stutters as he speaks as if his brain can't catch up with his mouth, things pour out that he doesn't mean. And he knows it. It's crystal clear as soon as his wide eyes shoot open, processing what he had really just said.

He didn't expect you to come? He put you through all this and didn't think you'd show up? What was the point then? Was it just to hurt you? Did he just want to see if he could? to see if his name popping up would have the same effect it always did, make you come running to him?

Your body moves without thinking, turning to face Matty with fires burning in your eyes, "You didn't think I would come? Then why the fuck did you even invite me, Matty?! to flaunt your new girlfriend? to try and "win" the breakup? Well congratulations, you've fucking won. I'm sure that model hanging off your arm is just perfect for you.” sarcasm drips from your every word, burning Matty like acid rain.

“No! It's not like that. I don't know. I think- I think I was just scared we’d never be in the same place again. That I would love you for the rest of my life, but I’d never see you again.” his voice softens as he speaks, and you almost want to give in, to crumble at his gentle tone and warm eyes. But he can't still love you, it seems impossible when you go back and see the destruction he left behind.

“That's what a breakup is, Matty. And did you ever think about me? About what I want? I can't help but think that maybe that would've been better. If being in the same room as you means feeling like this, I don't ever want to see you again.” You spit back angrily.

Matty's nostrils flare before he speaks, and you can see the anger building inside him. It takes a lot to get Matty to shout, but you can tell with every second you're making him inch closer. And you don't know why that makes you feel so good, but if you're honest, you don't want to know.

You want to keep going, keep pushing. You want him to act like he did that night. You needed to see it again. You needed to know he couldn't ever forget the night you're forced to remember.

“y/n, I don't- I just don't know what to say to you. What do you want from me? Do you want me to say that saying goodbye to you was the hardest thing I've ever had to do? That it ripped my heart out of my chest? That it fucking destroyed me? It did. Of course it did, you always made me feel everything. Losing you was no different.” You heard the way Matty’s voice cracked the more he spoke, but you ignored it. If he wanted to pull the dagger out of your heart, it was his job to deal with the bleeding.

“It didn't feel that hard when you stopped coming home at night. Or when you were fucking screaming at me. Or even that night when you walked out the door, you made it look pretty fucking easy that night. Because that's how it was Matty, you left. So don't come to me bitching and whining that it destroyed you. It's your fault. All of this is your fault.” you feel your voice wavering, but you suck in another breath, refusing to let him see you weaken, to see that wall you built start to break down.

“I deserved a better goodbye, Matty. If the goodbye you gave me hurt, the one I deserved would have fucking killed you.” You poke Matty in the chest harshly, pushing him back on his unsteady feet.

Streetlights flicker above you, the severe light dancing across Matty’s features. As long as you can remember, this light was busted, flicking on and off at will. It used to annoy you, distract you at night when the light poured through the curtains of Matty's bedroom.

Tonight, however, you loved it. No one could hide what they were really feeling under the harsh yellow glow. It seemed to pull every emotion to the surface of your face, illuminating even the darkest parts you wanted to hide.

So it was easy to spot when anger reared its ugly head in Matty. This time, he doesn't push it back. He physically can't.

He needs you to know that it did kill him to say goodbye, and that you can see that. he needs to understand how you can’t you see that he's the shell of the man he once was as he stands here?

“I apologised to you. I know you got my letter. Thanks for the response, by the way, a great way for us to get closure for whatever the fuck this was.” venom drips from every word that falls from his lips, and you have to fight to hide the smirk brewing on your face.

Finally. Finally, he was angry. He was pissed off. This is what you needed. You need the big fight, the final breakdown. Just one more time, you tell yourself, just one more screaming match, and you can move on.

A scoff involuntarily is ripped from your chest, as if you can't believe the utter bullshit coming from the man across from you. “I'm sorry, you think you deserve a response? What would I say in it, “Oh Matty, I'm so sorry! You're so right. Please let me come over so we can fuck all night!!” I know I'm not your usual airhead type, but you have to think more of me than that”

Your voice is high and piercing as you speak, and you know it. It always was when you started to get riled up. However, in this moment, you didn't care. You just needed something to happen, for him to get just as annoyed as you've been for fucking months.

“You don't think I deserved anything, though? Not even an acknowledgement?” his incredulous eyes met yours, begging you to take everything back and say you're sorry too, that it wasn't just his fault, even if he knew that wasn't true.

“Why should I? You never acknowledged my feelings. I don't think you asked me how I felt in the last month of our relationship.” Wet tears start brewing at your lashline. You want to fight them falling. But you can't, your resolve weakening with every second he stands in front of you.

“you know, that night we broke up, I realised something. you hadn't said you loved me in weeks. I said it every morning. But you'd hum back, or nod, or hug me. But you never actually said it.” Matty tries to cut in, and you already know what he wants to say. But you don't let him, powering through his half started words and desperate eyes.

After a few shaky breaths, your words start pouring again, “You treated saying “I love you” just like how you treated saying sorry. Like it would kill you to even think it. You've still never properly apologised for how you treated me, never said it to my face. But when we were together, I found myself saying sorry thousands of times over for feeling anything. I felt guilty for being pissed off at you, like I was doing something wrong. But I had every right to be! You had become a man I didn't even recognise, and for some reason, I still loved you, even when I shouldn't have. But at the time, I didn't see that. All I saw was you hurting. And because all I do is care, I wanted to stay. To stay for you, for us. Our family.”

Seconds pass, but they feel like minutes. The harsh wind blowing between you whistling through the street. Your eyes can't be dragged away from Matty’s, tears falling freely between the two of you.

And suddenly, you don't want him to be angry any more, you don't want this all to happen. You wish you could go back, never come here. But time doesn't work like that, so you’re stuck with tears pouring down your face as you stare at the man you once thought was the love of your life.

“Do you still have feelings for me?” Matty whispers, and you could see the desperation on his face, wet eyes tracing your every feature.

In that moment, he didn't know what he wanted your answer to be.

If you said no, it would kill him. Every ember of hope smouldering inside him would be burnt out, never to be relit.

But if you said yes, he doesn't know if he can let go. If you say you still feel anything for him, he knows he’ll be looking for you in every universe until he finds the one where you stay.

“I won't ever not love you, Matty. No matter how many times I tell myself I've moved on or that my life is better without you in it. I will always love you, and that's fucking agonising.” you sniffle as you speak, and you almost want to laugh at the absurdity of it all. How did you go from screaming at each other to professing your everlasting love?

Matty wants nothing more in that moment than to start begging you to come back, telling you how you can make it work, to talk about what he would do to get you back. But he knows he shouldn't, so he doesn't.

“Annie still thinks about you all the time you know,” Matty says, and your chest hurts from the whiplash of this conversation, jumping between memories of your old life so fast its almost unbearable. But you knew Matty. He needed to jump around to stay sane, so you jumped with him.

“I know, I remember you saying in the letter that she stopped asking when I was coming back. Is that true?” your voice drops again, as if you were sharing secrets at a sleepover.

“I thought it would be easier when she stopped asking, maybe then I'd not spend every waking hour thinking of you. But when the day came, it wasn't easier. It was like watching you leave right in front of me all over again. It brought me back to walking into the house for the first time after you left, looking at the empty space and trying to figure out how to fill it. Annie was filling it by asking about you, but suddenly she wasn't, and that glaring hole in my life was back." Matty's voice breaks as he speaks, but he clears his throat and tries to ignore it.

"I realised then that I'll never not think about you. Even if no one talks about you. Even if I never see you again, I'll still think of you.” Matty sucks in a shaky breath as soon as the words stop pouring out of him. His lungs seemed like they were sticking together with every word he said, and it felt like death. But he couldn't stop the rush of words, so he let the death surround him.

“Tell her I said hi” you reply meekly, not sure what to say in response to Matty’s outpour.

“I won't” matty says, forcing a half smile and chuckle that you half-heartedly return.

Once again, the blanket of silence surrounds the two of you, enveloping you in a way that feels all too familiar. So you break it, not letting yourself fall back into old patterns.

"i just dont understand how it all happened so quickly. how did you go from a stranger to the love of my life, only then to become someone I wish was a stranger all over again?" You whisper, your shaking hands coming to cup Matty's wet cheeks as you step closer. His hands wrap around your waist instantly, pulling you in and holding you so tight it almost hurts.

Silence hangs between the two of you. But its no longer painful or awkward, stilted or angry. It was a silence of acceptance, an acknowledgement that this had to be the final goodbye. There was no erasing the past, the demons that followed the two of you couldn't be ignored. So you were done, this was it.

Eventually, you pull away, and your face hovers in front of Matty’s for a few beats too long. You want to give him a final kiss, a proper goodbye. and you swear you can almost feel his lips against yours, taste the salty tears that would fall from your eyes. You don't, though. Your hands drop from his wet cheeks, and you walk away.

Every fibre inside you wants to turn around and go back to him. It feels impossible to face the future with the person you planned to spend it with standing 10 steps behind. But you do, moving forward and trying not to mourn the life you know you can never get back.

#starting off the celebration strong #by bringing the mood down #my fav activity #sorry if this is bad! angst is fun but HARD #matty healy fanfiction #matty healy x reader #matty healy fic #matty healy angst #the 1975 fanfic #the 1975 angst #teacher au!#Matty35

126 notes · View notes

nxathyx · 8 months

Text

"oh, that's my cousin"

Gn! Reader x Dazai Osamu, Gn! Reader x Chuuya Nakahara, Gn! Reader x Fyodor Dostoyevski, Gn! Reader x Nikolai Gogol, Gn! Reader x Sigma I legit should've stopped writing this after Chuuya and Dazai💀

Hi hello so I thought it'd be fun to write about a reader who has a really good friendship with their cousin (cause I have to good relationship with my one and I like throwing insults around)

So um here's a few examples of how readers relationship with their cousin looks (through texts, yes these are all my chats with my cousin on messenger)

something like this :)

C/n - cousin name

Tws: swearing, insulting, family dramas😻😻 my lack of motivation and my terrible sense of humour (I feel bad for you if you end up enjoying this one..)

Dazai Osamu

°Bro he lives for your and your cousins energy like holy fuck

°if he ever meets your cousin he'd definetly get along with them like oml

°loves reading your banters or listening to it

°if y'all beat each other up he'll purposefully cheer her on and not you (rude ass bitch)

° once you were texting your cousin like "bestie, I think he's a green flag"

"bitch that is redder than the colour red itself what are you on💀💀"

°has definetly texted your cousin before

°they're great friends, but at first your cousin was really skeptical

°if you, your cousin and Dazai were to work at the agency

° rip Kunikida holy shit

° THE FAMILY DRAMA YOU TELL HIM

°he's in heaven (probably hell but yk)

° put your cousin on speaker when you'll gossiping and he's sat there with his wine just like 🤭😮😃

Anyways let's move onto how he found out about this bond of yours

You informed your boyfriend you were going to go take a bath, walking into the bathroom with a fresh pijama, your undergarments and a towel. You took your time in the bath just relaxing, cleaning your body, washing your hair, maybe doing a little spa day for yourself. Whatever it is you were doing, however while you were having the time of your life, Dazai was reading a book, until he got rudely interrupted by your phone ringing.. "failed abortion" (or whatever you have your cousins name written down as) 'what the fuck..' he didn't pick up, just ignored it before texts kept popping up "BESTIE PICK THE FUCK UP YOU STUPID FUCKING BITCH DONT DO THIS TO ME RIGHT NOW YOU WHORE" huh... 'well that's not too pleasant' he thought in a sarcastic mindset, giggling slightly as the messages kept flooding your phone. Soon enough Dazai had the fantastic idea of texting back "ayo y/ns bathing right now" "idgaf tell that cunt to hurry her ass up cause i got some tea" he chuckled slightly, being quite curious what was so urgent, before knocking on the bathroom door.

"hey, dear. Someone called failed abortion keeps calling and texting you" although you couldn't see his face you just knew he had that stupid grin on his face, however given your curious nature, you cut your shower short.

Shortly after you were in your pyjamas, laying in bed with your back against the pillows as Dazai layed his face on your stomach, as his eyes were looking up at you with what almost seemed like a gleam, it was undeniable how much he loved you and how attracted to you he was, his fingers were gently running shapes and letters on your clothed skin, as you were typing profusely whilst giggling.

"hm? What's so funny?"

"just some family drama, nothing really important"

"so this failed abortion is a family member?"

You zoned out slightly whilst texting, before replying a few seconds later.

"yeah, sorry I zoned out"

"and who might this be, Donna?"

"That's my cousin"

He chuckled slightly before nodding a bit and sighing contently as he tried to bury his face into you tummy even more.

"you have quite the interesting dynamic with them"

"yeah, I guess so"

"im glad you keep in contact with at least someone in your family" he said with a light smile, before closing his eyes and just enjoying your giggles and the way your fingers and nails were hitting against the phone screen, already predicting how butchered the English is by your fast typing smiling a bit more at the times he just saw you communicating through texts with "ZDUHEZJHENHZ" "whst?" and other words that were completely written incorrectly.

Chuuya Nakahara

° Bro is confused

° if your cousins contact name is "failed abortion" or "mistake" or just something similar he legit thought you had a child for a second

"so uh.. Honey? Mind explaining when you had a failed abortion?"

°once he finds out its just your cousin he'd feel stupid (comfort him besties pls he needs it)

°he's so fucking tired and then out of nowhere this random ass bitch is calling you, spamming you with voice messages, photos, videos and piling up missed video calls and voice calls like bros about to destroy that fucking phone

°legit thought you were getting sent actual threats by how many insults he saw

°this fucker tried so hard to impress your cousin so they'll like him (he really wants your family to be fond of him)

°and then he just listens to you two gossiping being like 😰

"The fuck is wrong with this family😭😭"

°man's started stealing the Insults from you and your cousin

°if they get close and your cousin is younger y'all end up being like parents

"mama i papa" (idfk how that tiktok sound went)

°if you're also protective of your cousin he finds that so admirable and attractive like holy shit "hey mamas😍😍" (kms)

First meeting went interestingly.

You were sat next to Chuuya, and your cousin was sat on the opposite side of the table, at first it was awkward, no one really wanted to speak, until you started telling Chuuya something that your aunt used to do, when you and your cousin were younger, earning an appropriate reaction from him to the information you just shared, and that soon developed into you and your cousin just talking shit about your entire family to him (especially their younger sibling or your other cousin)

(Bro was flabbergasted)

"she actually used to do that..?"

Earning a small nod from you and your cousin as well as a few giggles that were muffled by your hands covering your mouths

Whenever you and your cousin were just calling each other the most gut wrenching names he was so confused, slightly amazed, intrigued and worried as hell, but more than anything he was glad you had such a close bond with someone that you two could've just insulted the fuck out of each other without getting mad or petty about it

Fyodor Dostoyevski

°Bro is just like "okay..? That's.. Yeah okay"

°like he doesn't know what to say

°takes inspo from the Insults and threats

°he legit just doesn't give a shit I'm gonna be honest

°"so just another weirdo? Alright"

°if he ever meets your cousin. tell him to wash that damn lice nest.

°please scrub his hair clean (make the shampoo go in his eyes)

°make him use deoderant for once in his fucking life

I want to write how the meeting will go but I doubt he'd go out and meet them, like I'm sorry

Nikolai Gogol

°this man is so entertained

°he acts almost identical to Dazai

°"put them on speaker I want to hear!!"

°he'd get along so well with them probably like holy shit

°y'all once just started taking about alphas (it turned into war)

°the Insults you two send are like a bed time story to him. Tell him all about the drama, speak your truth bestie

Yeah so like.. The meeting was entertaining, insults getting thrown back and forth by the three of you, some beverages and snacks and you just sat there for literal hours (can you tell I'm out of ideas and motivation?)

Sigma

°he is concerned

°you know how when he was with Fyodor, Nikolai and Dazai and he said "im the only normal one" or something similar

°THAT'S HOW HE FEELS RIGHT NOW

°like he's Fr just listening to you two talk about the family trauma while giggling and he's like "that ain't normal😶😶

°IF HE GETS ANXIOUS HOLD HIS HAND THROUGHOUT THE WHOLE THING I'M BEGGING YOU

°he finds your interactions interesting and definitely takes note of how you two speak to each other

°he never had a family of his own so he starts seeing your cousin as one as they became friends

°either that or your cousin is like your guys' child

°if y'all ever gossip in the casino he's kind of scared you'll scare the customers off

°definetly just sits and cuddles you while you're talking shit with them

°OKAY IDK WHY BUT A GROUP WHERE IT'S YOU, SIGMA, NIKOLAI AND YOUR COUSIN. PURE FUCKING CHAOS

153 notes · View notes