#just a pathetic hopeless romantic fool

[melancholyhigh]

CRUSH CULTURE.

ft. college au!leon x reader

synopsis. you fuck up at being leon’s wingman, ruining his chances of getting a valentine’s day fuck. he’s frustrated and takes his anger out on you.

tags. 2.8k words. smut. mean!leon, lowk angsty, reader is kinda pathetic, angry fuck, dry humping, cunnilingus, dom!leon, rough sex, unprotected p in v, degradation, name calling (bitch, whore etc.), happy ending (?).

note. i’m sorry for being so inactive and rarely being online. school sucks so bad. i hope you guys can accept this as a formal apology. (let’s ignore that this is 2 days late.)

masterlist. reblogs & comments are highly welcomed :3

You aren’t the biggest fan of Valentine’s Day. You're sick of seeing everyone fall in love, watching lovers exchange cheesy gifts and bashful smiles. You’re sick of people pretending they love each other more than they actually do. No, you’re sick of being left out.

You were a hopeless romantic, chasing love only for it to fall flat. You were obsessed with finding your other half, the person who would cherish you as much as you treasured them. You didn’t know if you loved love or just the idea of it, but it wouldn’t matter.

You’re only hopeless as you help the man you liked hook up with someone at a shitty college party.

It’s pathetic, truly, chatting up some sorority girls and putting a good name out for Leon while he stood beside you. You didn’t get why he couldn’t do it himself. He was handsome, albeit a bit awkward, but so were you. It’s why you two got along anyway. Leon was watching as you tried to get the drunk girl’s attention on him. Throughout the night, your wingman skills had only failed. They either did not pay attention to you or paid too much attention to you.

You were sick of it. You would have preferred staying in your dorm room and rewatching one of your favourite rom-coms. But you were only a fool, trying to help your friend out. It hurt more being there with him as he lamely tried to pick up girls in front of you. You didn’t know what was more pathetic, his terrible jokes or the state you were, absolutely heartbroken that he wouldn’t give you the time of day he’d give to random girls.

Maybe it’s faith’s cruel way of commentating on your desire for love by making you play cupid for the only person you seem to care about more than yourself.

You and Leon had something special, or you had hoped so. You met in your first year of college. You were both fucking awkward that you had to initiate the first conversation. Majoring in similar subjects, you both had gotten along well. You would even say you were best friends, but you knew deep down you always wanted more.

Ever since you first met, you found him enthralling. It only got worse as you got closer. Learning more about him seemed to solidify your pining for him. You were the only person he talked to, and vice versa. You confided in each other, maybe more than what close friends should, so it was only inevitable that he would share with you that he wanted to lose his virginity.

You had looked at him perplexed. Leon was pretty attractive, and maybe you were biased, but how had no one fucked him? You’ve seen the way girls look at him, blushing when he even glances at them for a second.

That is when Leon told you he planned on trying to hook up with some girl at the party, and he wanted your help because he knew he would fuck up somehow. You had humoured him. Nothing more romantic than taking a random girl home on Valentine’s Day and fucking her brains out.

–-

“It’s not that serious, Leon,” you groaned for the umpteenth time. You were both walking back to his apartment after unsuccessfully trying to hook him up with some sorority girl. He was grumbling behind you, pissed and sexually frustrated.

“It was your fault.” You roll your eyes at his statement. When you reach the door of his flat, you observe as he clumsily takes his keys out, trying to open the door. He finally manages to open the door, and you enter, taking your shoes off before settling on his couch.

You watch him beyond amused at his predicament as he paces back and forth in front of you.

“Why did you have to mention that? They were so into me before you fucked it up,” he huffs, stilling his movement to glare at you.

“C’mon, Leon. I’m sure they couldn’t give a fuck that you’re a nerd,” you said, repeating the same word you had let slip when you were praising your beloved best friend. You peered back up at him, acting casual as if his icy gaze didn’t have your heart beating wildly against your chest. You rarely saw him angry, and when he was, he never directed it to you.

“You ruined my chances at finally getting laid. I don’t know how to talk to these girls. You’re the only person I have.” He’s frustrated with you for fucking up whatever chance he finally had at popping his cherry. Even though logically it’s not your fault nor your duty to get his dick wet, he didn’t want to take responsibility right now.

“I think you’re overreacting,” you sighed, standing up and moving towards him. You try to put a comforting hand on Leon’s shoulder, and he shrugs your touch off him. You don’t take it to heart. He’s a few inches taller than you, head slightly tilted as he looks down at you.

“Yeah? Well, now I have no one to fuck tonight.”

“I can change that,” you quip, and you instantly freeze at your own statement. You part your lips lightly in shock as you observe Leon’s reaction. It was a freudian slip, and it seemed to be happening more often than you’d like.

He continues looking down at you with furrowed brows as he tries to comprehend what you said. He thinks this might affect your friendship if you even mean what you said. He was horny, being teased all night by pretty girls in skimpy dresses, only to be denied, fucking furious too.

“Really?” He responds, somehow stepping closer to you. His eyes flicker down to your lips, and you try to back up, only to be pushed against the wall by him. His stare is still cold, piercing through you. He’s still pissed at you.

“Are you still mad?” You mumbled, your back flat against the wall of his living room. You knew the answer. You just wanted him to say it. Maybe you found his mean side more attractive than you’d like to admit. It was so rare to see him like this — a usually composed man so broken.

“Yes, I’m still fucking angry. Do you want me or not?” He seethes. You squeeze your thighs together at the tone he uses. You were so pathetic, getting wet at him berating you, but any attention was good attention.

He notices your reaction, grinning to himself. “You backing down?”

You shake your head no in response.

“Beg for it then. Beg for me to fuck you. That’s what you want, right?” He says, mocking you. It’s as if he knows how deep your desire burns for him, how badly you’d do anything for him if it meant he noticed you. His hands grasp your face, his fingers squishing your cheeks together as he forces your head back against the wall so you look up at him.

“Please, Leon. Fuck me. ‘M all yours.” You plead through pursed lips. Your eyes are glossy, and he’s laughing at your desperate nature. He would have never expected his best friend to be a whiny mess within his grasp.

He lets go of your face before leaning down, capturing your lips into his for a needy kiss. Your eyes flutter shut, and a surprised gasp escapes you. Teeth clashing, you’re whimpering desperately against his lips as you entangle your fingers into his soft golden locks. His hands trail down to your hips, gripping them as he moves his body against yours.

You let out a soft moan, and he pulled apart from the passionate kiss. Both your lips are swollen and covered with your shared saliva. He continues to grope your body eagerly as he pushes you further into the wall. “Shut up. I don’t want to hear you.”

Biting your lip, you try not to let any moans slip free while he toys with your sensitive body through your clothes. He hooks one of your legs over his hip while he explores your body. He grinds his hardening cock against your crotch, and the action does little to quell the ache inside you.

Your back arches off the wall, your head tipping back as you try to buck your hips to his. Digging your nails into his shirt, he hisses slightly, but your movements don’t get past him.

“So fucking desperate,” he moans loudly.

He continues to rock his clothed erection against your cunt. The rough fabric of your pants provides enough friction through your damp underwear to your clit. Your hand clamps around your mouth shut, suppressing your whines as you near your climax.

Leon’s eyes close while he groans lowly at the pleasure coursing through him as he ruts against you. He wants so badly to feel your dripping cunt against his throbbing length. Just as you’re about to finish, he pulls away, panting, and the feeling in your core dissipates.

“I want to fuck you properly.” You’re unsure if he knew what he had just done, but with the smug look he’s giving you, you’re positive it’s on purpose.

You push yourself off the wall of his living room, and with trembling legs, you follow him to his bedroom. You were familiar with the area and used to the messy appearance while you two were either doing work or binging shows. But it’s different now, he’s going to fuck you dumb in it.

You both begin to rid yourself of your clothes once you’re inside. You’re fully nude, lying flat on Leon’s mattress, and your skin feels tacky with sweat as it clings to his soft sheets. Leon is only in his boxers, precum staining the fabric, as his strong palms spread your bent legs apart to admire your bare pussy.

You realise that this is most likely his first time seeing one other than in porn videos he jerks himself off to. He marvels at how wet you are, your folds glistening with your slick. Leaning down, he buries his face between your thighs, lapping at you.

His tongue teases your entrance before slowly moving to your clit. He alternates between sucking on your sensitive nub and lapping at it slowly. He looks like he’s concentrated as he focuses on pleasing your cunt, his brows furrowed and his nails digging into the flesh of your thighs.

You can’t help the moans and sighs that slip past your lips while he eats you out. The pleasure is nearly dizzying as you grip the sheets. Your hips are bucking against his tongue, and Leon groans as you use his face. He’s not so subtly grinding against the sheets, his cock painfully hard as he fails to relieve the sensation.

Tentatively, he slurps at you, drinking in your essence. The wet, sloppy noises your cunt makes are embarrassing, but he’s obsessed with it and your taste. It’s addictive. He sucks at your clit roughly, adoring the reaction you give him. Your tummy clenches as he pays attention to your throbbing bud. Your sounds are getting more frequent as your orgasm quickly approaches you.

When you finally come undone, your thighs are quivering around his head as he revels in your release. He parts from your cunt, his lips coated in your cum like lip gloss as he licks them clean. Trying to collect yourself, your chest heaves as you pant heavily.

Leon slips his boxers down, revealing his hard-on. His cock was flushed red and dripping with precum as he stroked it. It was average in length but quite thick and prettier than you had imagined. But you shouldn’t act surprised.

You let out a whimper when he slid the tip of his cock through your folds stained with your cum and his saliva. Your pussy was overstimulated, spasming as he teased your entrance with his head.

“Shut the fuck up, bitch,” he groans, gripping your hip to steady himself. The heat of your cunt was welcoming as it tried to suck him inside you. His tip touches your overly sensitive clit. He was quickly losing his composure, desperate to fuck you open.

You both moan simultaneously when he fully enters his length inside of you. Your walls were sucking his cock deeping into you, filling you up to the brim with nothing but him.

You had not imagined your first time with Leon like this. You daydreamed of him taking you out on a cute date before undressing you and then fucking you slowly on a bed littered with rose petals. You did not anticipate that he’d split you open on his cock as a last resort taking his sexual frustration out on you. You can’t complain with how good he’s fucking you, even if it’s out of spite.

He begins thrusting his cock in and out of tight pussy, groaning. You feel each ridge and vein of his cock as he fucks the shape into you. You sometimes forget how well-built he is, usually concealed by his clothes, sweat dripping down his muscular frame.

“Your cock feels so fuckin’ good, Leon,” you gasped out loud, your nails digging into his biceps as he stretched you out of his fat cock.

“This was your plan, huh? You wanted me to fuck you, whore.” He says as he punctuates each word with a thrust.

Your eyes roll to the back of your head as the tip of his cock presses against you deliciously. You did want him all to yourself, but you wouldn’t go as far as to sabotage him. You’re unable to answer him, too drunk on his cock bullying into that one spot inside of you.

“Answer me, bitch.” He huffs, gripping your jaw and positioning your face to his. He looks into your eyes only to note how they can barely stay open. His hips stutter at your fucked out expression. He was so fucking close, his abs flexing, only holding out so you can cum first.

“Y- Yeah, Leon. Want to you all for myself,” you stammer incoherently, tears collecting at your waterline as he pounds into your oversensitive cunt. Your walls grip around his cock sporadically as you near your climax.

“You like me too, then?” he mocks through clenched teeth. Your pussy hugs him tightly, and he thinks he might never want to leave your warm embrace.

“I’m so close,” you cry out, your body squirming in his hold. Your peak was rapidly approaching as he continued his assault on your pussy.

“Answer the question then you can come,” he whines, his fingers digging into the flesh of your hips, leaving marks as he nears his peak.

“Mhm! Yes, I’ve always fucking liked you, Leon.” You cried out, eager to expose all your secrets to him if it meant you came. As you climax, your pussy milks Leon’s cock as it gushes around him.

“Oh fuck. I’m gonna cum,” Leon moans, his voice breathy as his orgasm crashes after yours. He doesn’t know if it’s the weight of your confession or the whimpers that escape your throat that send butterflies in him as he spills into you. He kisses you one last time, moaning into you as he rides his high.

Pulling out, he collapses right next to you. You’re both panting, covered in cum and sweat. A wave of exhaustion overcomes you, and you hope he doesn’t bring up what you said amidst fucking. You’re content pretending it didn’t happen if it meant you wouldn’t get to face your fears.

“Thank you for uh,” Leon trails off, and it's like a switch flipped. He’s bashful at mentioning that he had just lost his virginity as if he wasn’t calling you a whore a few minutes ago. Turning to his side, you come nearly face-to-face with him once again.

“Mhm, you’re welcome, I think.” You’re still unsure how you feel about the situation. Finally, you had fucked him, but what significance did it hold to him? Your eyes flutter shut, sleep finally overcoming your wrecked body. You expected the same would happen to Leon, but you were wrong. Leon was in deep thought.

Leon calls your name, cutting your sleep short. You snap your eyes open, sitting up, you await his question with your arms crossed. He looked uneasy, but you’re too drained to question why.

“Did you mean what you said? That you liked me.” His voice is quiet as he gazes at your form.

“Uh, yeah,” you mumbled in response. What was even the point of lying anymore? His cum was dripping between your thighs. What is the worst he can do? You think you can already guess his response. Guilt was eating at you. He wouldn’t be in this position if you did what he wanted. You added, “Sorry for fucking up your night.”

It’s quiet, and you’re nervously trying to gauge his reaction until he breaks the silence.

“I think I found someone better,” he responds. You laugh at the mere absurdity of the entire situation.

“It took fucking me to find that out?”

“Shut the fuck up.”

#leon kennedy x reader #leon kennedy #leon kennedy smut #gender neutral reader #resident evil 4 #resident evil #re4 smut #idk how to do conclusions #✩‧₊˚ fics

[itmightneverbetherighttime]

...

#i am once again dealing with the weight of loneliness #and the intrusive thoughts that keep telling me i am an unlovable person #because i find myself once again in the same situation #and at this point i feel hopeless #i know i shouldn't worry about it but i do #i can't get over the idea that i highly doubt someone will ever really love me #and of course i mean romantically #i just feel like that's never going to happen #and i am a fool for getting my hopes up and crushing over someone who will never see me that way #because why would they????? i'm literally nothing #it's pathetic #i feel pathetic #talking to the wall

[reverieblondie]

Seeking Advice

Pairing: Rolan x Fem!Tav Reader

Warnings: 18+, NSFW, Fluff and Smut with Plot, Oral (fem receiving), Cum eating, Horn pulling?.

Summary: Asking out your crush can be difficult, Maybe you should seek advice from your friends on how to ask out your favorite wizard?

A/N: Look...I've been playing a lot of Baldur's Gate 3. Then this guy yelled at me and I fell. I have a thing for grumpy guys what can I say. Now do not worry! I still am writing for ATSV, TASM!Peter and my love Miguel, just I think I can squeeze the bg3 fandom on my blog. Trust I have plans for for all my fictional men. Plus I am working on request! Just had to get this story out, it was rotting my brain. Hope you enjoy it! Its kinda cheesy but its what I like, sorry.

Word Count: 6,957

The energy to the tavern is a welcomed one, All the noise you might have found irritating at a time is now a pleasant chime to your ears. How things can so easily change with time. Since becoming the city's hero many things have changed for you and your friends. The city is back to its wondrous glory. Finally, your life is starting to calm down, well for the most part… 

There is no longer a squirming in your head and the threats to the world's damnation are at the time eased, things should be perfect, and you should be happy riding an inexplicable high. You are happy for the most part, however there is just one thing that is causing you trouble now. It's the ache that swirls within you that only grows when you see him, the now master of Ramazith’s Tower, Rolan. 

The first time you felt it, it was simply a spark, harmless. It didn’t turn into this thrumming storm until the grove celebration after you defeated the goblin camp, and where he taught you his light spell. That night your fate was sealed, now as your friendship has grown you feel those glittering sparks storming through you more often. 

With a sigh, you rest your hazy head in your palm as you watch him with his siblings. The amber lights of Elfsong make his crimson skin appear as if it's glowing, he looks good in any lighting with his striking features but at this moment he looks damn near ethereal. You're acutely aware that you are staring at the trio, but in your buzzed haze from four wine goblets, you can not bring yourself to care. People are properly catching you staring like a lovesick fool; you will move your eyes eventually, you just want to watch for a bit longer. 

Rolan's journey to the city was different than yours but it was not without its hurdles, then when he got here he had to be met with the cruelty of Lorroakan. You won’t lie, you felt immense pleasure watching his spine get cracked in two for what he had done. Now with that horror over, the scars have faded and you see that Rolan is better, happier. He smiles just a bit wider and his eyes shine just a tad bit brighter. It only makes sense that the Tower and Sundries have become more successful with his influence, though you know he’s just happy that his family is now together and safe. 

Blindly you bring the metal goblet to your lips and taste the tang of the red wine nursing you through your pinning. The drink was meant to boost your confidence to go over there and shoot your shot for a date, but it only makes your head cloud into hopeless romantics. Why can’t you just ask him out? You can take on a horde of knols but you can’t bring yourself to confess to the guy you like? Doesn't get more pathetic than that…

Your eyes stay fixed on Rolan as he smirks and rolls his eyes at what Cal is saying, his clawed hand grabs his goblet and you watch as he brings the drink to his lips. Feeling looser from drinking you see as the red wine slightly escapes the side of his lips as he chugs the drink down. The deep red rolls down his jaw and you have to bite your lip from the thoughts that erupt in your mind. 

“Darling, you have got to stop staring.” 

With a sigh, you turn your head to your pale companion with a devilish smile on his face. With a roll to your eyes, you take another drink of your wine trying your best to play unbothered by Astarion as you can. 

“I wasn’t staring” 

“Tav, let's not be coy, you haven’t moved your eyes from a particular wizard since he strolled in. Sighing and squeezing your thighs together like that's going to help your ache.” 

The mentioning of the actions you thought were unnoticed makes your face blush from embarrassment. Asterion can only laugh at your fluster features as you look around the crowded tavern to see hints if others have noticed. 

“I- wasn’t, you don’t-” 

“Don’t be embarrassed, you could pick far worse. He’s a bit pompous for my taste, but the innocent little freckles on his face are pretty intriguing.” 

Astarion gives you a smirk as you whip your head to face him giving him a look of ‘back off’, though he is hardly intimated by you. 

“Relax, I am not going to take a bite out of your favorite wizard. I will leave that pleasure for you, however some advice, you won’t get him from just staring.” 

You hate to admit it but Astarion might have a point, you have been wanting to confess your feelings you just don’t know how. Looking at Rolan you rake your mind with your past chances to open yourself up but always seem to back out at the last moment, his rejecting you would be painful but being in this limbo is excruciating. You have to get your feelings off your chest for some inner peace. 

“Okay, Astarion…what's your advice?”  

Astarion's smile spreads to his lips and he sits next to you quickly, “My suggestion is you make it your mission to get that Rolan in your sheets, my dear. You obviously have had trouble getting your…” Astarion grimaces “Feelings for him out, so why not go the seductive approach?” 

You let out a laugh but Astarion just keeps his face neutral, “You think, I should seduce him? How am I supposed to do that?” 

“Simple, give him an offer he can’t refuse.”

“Yeah like what?” 

Astarion looks over at Rolan, seeming to think before his face lights up, he quickly wraps his arm around your shoulder moving your chin to face Rolan. Then he whispers in your ear, “You're going to go over to him, very calmly…place your hand on his shoulder and whisper in his ear very sweetly that you want to lick every ridge on his body.” 

Your mouth goes dry and eyes go wide at the thought…running your tongue…down…his… You blush feeling your face grow hot, so hot you think it could be radiating off you. 

“A-Astarion…I-I can’t do that…” 

“Oh, but picture it, once you're done he will be so spent he will be the one confessing to you.” 

An image of a panting Rolan looking down at you with a fist full of your hair sparks in your mind. Hells, maybe Astarion has a point…he has had plenty of experience seducing people, but you? The thought only makes it so you can’t even move. Astartion picks up on your dazed state and with a nudge he pops you from it. 

“Lucky for you there's a creature in here I have had my eyes on, so just watch and learn,” 

“Wait, you like someone?” You say it a bit shocked,

Astarion gives you a look, “Focus on your own love life, huh?” 

With that, you say quite as you watch Astarion's ruby eyes land on a particularly pretty patron. With a smirk, he grabs your goblet keeping his eyes fixed on them like a predator studying its prey. Quickly downing your drink he releases a cool and steady breath then makes his approach. He practically glides across the room to them, very carefully he starts the conversation with a smile and you can already tell the person is interested. Do they know each other?

In What seems like a quick second he is placing his hand on their shoulder and leaning down to their ear. You can only imagine what he must be saying to have their faces fluster so quickly. Nobody quite had a way with words like him. Astarion leans back up to meet their eyes where they are feverishly nodding. 

With that, he starts guiding them to the exit while turning back towards you to smirk. Well, looks like it's your turn…

Picking up your goblet you see he did finish it, okay next step. Standing you feel all the alcohol you consumed immediately go to your head, deep breath, then go. Making your way over you try to not stumble into people as you push to your destination. Keeping your eyes on Rolan you rehearse the lines in your head over and over, as you get closer. 

Rolan almost like he can sense it then flicks his eyes to you, watching as you approach. Swallowing to ease your dry throat as you continue to make your way over still keeping your nerves despite your stomach being in knots. Then his lips curl into a slight smile and you freeze…shit…looking down at your hands reality hits you suddenly, you're drunk and about to proposition him, you can’t do this…he is just going to dismiss you… the thought makes your chest ache and the feeling of your drink coming back up. 

Looking back at him he tilts his head looking at you concerned smile fading and that's when the fear of rejection rushes you. Opening your mouth you go to say anything, maybe smile at him something to mask your panic but it fails. Your lips tremble and before you know it you're rushing to the exit. 

Finding the exit you look back to Rolan, he’s up from his table and seems to be trying to make his way toward you, he looks completely confused and maybe…hurt. You can’t do this…not when you're drunk and on the verge of puking. 

With that, you're pushing out of the tavern and running off into the cool night of the city. As you're running past one of the city's allies you catch in your peripherals Astarion with that person pinned against the wall as he kisses against their neck leaving them moaning into his hand. You must have caught his attention from your running, he looks at your fleeing figure and calls out to you. 

“I guess it didn’t go well?” 

You don’t bother to give him a response, his advice might have worked for him but you're going to have to try a different tactic. 

Note to self, do not try to drunkenly ask out your crushes, it only ends in you making an ass out of yourself and puking up all your stomach contents. Thinking back on it you can only think back on the look on Rolan's face…the confusion…the disappointment…Maybe you should go talk to him? You don’t want him to think that you're trying to ignore him. You were drunk and didn’t want to spill your guts all over him. Feeling freshly invigorated you decide that you should apologize for running off. Who knows maybe the conversion could lead to something.   

Arriving at Sorcerous Sundries you're not even fully sure if he would even be there, the tower might have been the better bet. However, your guess is shown to be a good one when you see Rolan placing some tomes on the shelves. Gods, you could watch him work for hours…his dexterous hands placing everything so carefully. As you watch you think you almost see his tail wag before he’s fixing it down. The smile it causes to your face can’t be helped, though he is always so composed he still slips at times. 

As you watch Rolan work you have the oddest sensation come over you that you too are being watched. Turning your head you jerk back slightly in surprise seeing that Lae’zel’s yellow eyes are piercing into you with her trademark intensity. It’s quite odd that she is in here, she's not one for spells but as you're looking past her you see that Shadowheart is with her thumbing through a tome. That makes more sense, you're happy those two have become better friends. Especially since they did try and kill each other. 

Smiling you give Lae’zel a smile with a wave, she only narrows her eyes more at you as you move to go talk to Rolan. Approaching his tall figure you're taking in every inch of him. 

He's beautiful, from face to physique, you watch as the muscles from underneath his robes flex from his movements. It’s funny wizards are not known for their strong builds but Rolan's arms and back are a dead giveaway to his hidden strength. Looking up you trace down the length of his horns to where they disappear into his soft chestnut hair, twisted in that half-up style. You wonder if you two get closer in the way you hope he will let you play with his hair, it appears so tantalizing and soft…everything about him is tantalizing… 

In your approach your mind is running through a quick daydream of running your fingers along his horns and through his hair; it causes you not to pay attention to where you are stepping. With the perfect explanation for the night at Elfsong in your mind, you're ready to smooth things over with him. Just as you're reaching out you suddenly see Rolan's shoulders shoot up teasing like something just hit him. Confused you lean forward more but that's when you feel it, something is wiggling under your foot.  

Looking down you see that your boot is crushing his poor tail underneath your weight. Mortified, you quickly step off of it. Karlach had told you how sensitive her tail was when she yelped when someone sat on it, so having it crushed underneath a boot sure is not a great feeling. Rolan's back stays teased as he turns slowly, his tail swiftly moving away from you to go to his hands. His eyes look as if he could thunder wave you out of the building. 

“I-I am so sorry Rolan, I- I didn’t see your tail.” you ramble out as quickly as possible

“How do you not see the appendage handed down from my-!” Rolan stops his yelling and takes a breath, his hands tightening on his tail. There is now a mark from where you stepped and you feel even worse. 

“Here let me-” Reaching out for his tail you are quickly stopped by Rolan holding up his hand and shaking his head. Rolan tail in hands starts walking away mumbling a language you don’t know. 

“I’m sorry!” You call out to his fleeing figure as he ascends the stairs. 

Running your hands down your face, your intentions of apologizing to him for Elfsong completely disappear as you make yourself look like a complete ass again to him. Looking through your fingers you see that not only is Lae’zel still staring at you but now Shadowheart has joined her in watching your screw-up. You make your way over to them with your head down silently standing with them as Shadowheart keeps at her browsing. 

After a couple of moments, you see Rolan coming back down to the shop, his eyes meet yours. A part of you thinks you should go back over to him and apologize but you don’t want to annoy him further so you give him an apologetic wave. Rolan just huffs slightly with a nod before turning his back to you to get back to work. Leaning against the shelved wall you let out a long sigh.

“What am I going to do…”

“You mean about your crush on the new master of the tower?” 

You turn your head to stare at Shadowheart for her comment but she doesn’t even bother lifting her eyes away from the spines of the tomes. 

“How…what…” 

Lae’zel cuts in “Your lusting is obvious, sighing with your head in the sky with your pathetic pinning,” -wow ouch…   

A stray giggle leaves Shadowheart and you're quick to narrow your eyes at her as she bites her lip to silence herself. Crossing your arms you look back at Lae’zel 

“I am probably going to regret this, but Lae’zel what is your advice? How should I go about asking Rolan out then?”

The question is intriguing enough to make Shadowheart put her tome down and look at Lae’zel as well. Lae’zel rolls her eyes for a second before folding her arms and moving her fierce gaze to where Rolan is now helping out a customer. Lae’zel eyes narrow at him, sizing him up as she studies him before she turns back to you with a huff.

“I would not ask, I would grab that teeth-ling by the horns and command him to do as I say.”  The direct advice makes Shadowheart burst into laughter drawing attention from people near you, though you can’t seem to meet their eyes because you're too busy giving Lae’zel a confused look. 

“I don’t think that would work with him…” 

“Tis’k, you do not know this unless you try. Now go grab him by the tail and mount him forming a flesh bond with your desired.”  

You're staring at Lae’zel gobsmacked while Shadowheart practically rolls on the floor with laughter. 

“Lae’zel! I can’t just mount him!” you whisper yell at her. 

“I don’t know, she might have something to the direct approach” Shadowheart soothes

You glare at her “Oh you're done laughing on the floor?” She smirks with a shrug, absolutely no help. 

“Fine, I will gather him for you.” -what?

Lae’zel starts going towards Rolan but you are quick to grab her and drag her out. As the puzzled patrons watch you carry out the githyanki fighter cussing you in her native tongue with Shadowheart trailing behind you, smirk on her face. You try to rush out as quickly as you can mortified that Rolan might be seeing the display. 

Once outside you put her down with an apology, Shadowheart quickly places a hand on Lae’zel’s shoulder to prevent her from cutting off your head. “Why not try talking to the guys for advice? Maybe they can give you the male perspective on things.” Shadowheart offers. 

Thinking for a moment you find that she might have a point, it might help to ask the guys for some advice.

Piercing your lips you study the smiling wizard in front of you waiting for your question. 

“Actually Gale I don’t know if I should ask you for advice on this.” 

Gale's face changes from a smile into hurt then moves to irritation, “Wh- and why not?” he practically huffs. 

“Because the last time you tried to get a person to like you you ended up with a bomb in your chest.” 

“Magic orb…” he mutters while Wyll laughs, nearly choking on his wine. 

“Okay, Tav what advice are you needing? We can try our best to help aid you.” Wyll smooths out the tension of the room. 

“Well…the thing is I need some advice on asking someone out. I figured our most intelligent and most charismatic party members would have some great advice.” 

Wyll and Gale look at each other like they can detect each other's thoughts before they turn back to you “You're talking about asking out Rolan aren't you?” 

You purse your lips and narrow your eyes at the duo, “Who told you I was coming?” 

“Astarion and Shadowheart, they sang like canaries. Told us about your ...Mishaps” Gale says somewhat sing-songy. 

Sure he might have gotten a bomb in his chest but at least he got some for the goddess… And Wyll Mr. Prince Charming, half the girls in the city who were in love with him and his fancy footwork. Hopefully, they will have some good advice. You watch as the two men start pacing along rubbing their chins deep in thought. You appreciate they are taking this so seriously for your sake. 

“So have you at least tried? Asking him out? I know you two are pals but have you ever eluded to it.” 

You give Wyll an unamused look “Yeah I tried, but then something horrid goes wrong, I’m either stepping on his tail or about to puke.” 

Wyll nods trying to understand, “Maybe you could try to do an action, like an impromptu dance at the tavern between friends? The music is plentiful, and as you two sway along the music you can tell him with your eyes.” 

You watch as Wyll mimics the swaying of a dance keeping intense eye contact with you, but Gale comes behind him and places a hand on his shoulder stopping him. “Don’t think that will work with Rolan, he's….kinda dense…” 

Gale then lights up with the idea, “Why not ask him for some magic lessons? He can show you the ways of the weave and as you two flow through it, you can send him your thoughts.” 

You think for a moment, you have had him teach you magic before but…that was at the grove…and things were different. You hold that memory when he taught you his trick dear and you're about to agree to it. But you stop…if Rolan rejects you during that…it would ruin that spell for you forever…

“Yeah…he's a strict teacher…can we think of something else…Something that can explain how I feel but I don’t have to choke over the words too.” 

Gale and Wyll sit and think for a minute, then Wyll is snapping his fingers with an idea, “Why don’t you write him a letter!” 

You look at Wyll a bit skeptical, “A letter?” 

“Now that's the way to a wizard's heart, through the written word. Grand idea Wyll! Plus that helps with your shyness you can just hand him the letter! No conversion required!” Gale praises. 

You think for a moment, writing isn’t exactly your thing but it might be your only option left. Plus you're sure Gale and Wyll will help you through it! With a nod, you give them the okay and Gale is already conjuring up some paper and quill. They sit themselves on both sides of you and help you get through your thoughts. You thought it would be best to keep some more private feelings to yourself. They both seemed to be rather…really into letter writing, Gale helped fill the letter with praise of Rolan's grandeur with magic. While Wyll helps you spruce it up with flourishes about how your heart dances for him. It turned out a bit cheesy but Wyll and Gale seemed to have a good time. Maybe they should start a poetry club? 

Letter in hand you pace outside the shop, the letter was a great idea when Gale and Wyll were helping you write it but now… Now that you're here to give it to Rolan you're finding that familiar nervousness is eating away at you again. Peeking through the door you see that Rolan isn’t in the shop. It just seems to be his hologram today…Perfect! Now all you have to do is place it on the front desk for him to find later. That way if he isn’t into it you won’t have to meet his rejection immediately. The thought of Rolan looking at the letter and frowning pops into your mind, but you shake it off. Just place it down…easy…

“Tav! Hey!” 

Pausing you Turn around and see Karlach running towards you waving with a huge smile on her face. This is not good… It's not that you don’t want to see Karlach, she is amazing and you two have become incredibly close. The reason that this isn’t good is that Karlach isn’t exactly…subtle… Karlach is a complete badass but when it comes to love and romance she is a complete softie gushing about it to everyone. Wyll had told her about a crush of his one time and she had gushed about the story to anyone who would listen. It’s truly sweet that she loves love so much and gushes about her friends' conquest, but you're trying to be subtle here, placing the letter then leaving quickly, if Karlach finds out about it she's going to give you being here away.  

“Hello soldier, what are you doing loitering around Sundries? Waiting for someone?”

“Oh, no no…I just have this letter to give Rolan.” 

“Oh! What's it about?”  

“Just some questions about…spells…and curses…if he can detect the traces of the magical…What are you doing?” you quickly change the subject not being able to think of a good lie. 

“I was just at the Forge of the Nine catching up with Dammon, I had found some good iron ingots and wanted to give them to him, he could use them more than me anyways…” -oh Karlach you cutie

Karlach looks into sundries and appears to be looking around a bit, her smile slowly dies away before she turns back to you, “Well, I think you're out of luck soldier, Rolan doesn't seem to be around.”

You shrug trying to seem as unfazed as possible, “That's fine, I will just leave it on the front desk.”

“Or you could give it to-”

“No! No the desk will work, I mean…it’s important but he will find it.” you quickly interject. 

Karlach looks at you somewhat confused before she shrugs with a smile and follows you in. Finally, through the doorway, you quickly make your way to the desk and you feel…good! Finally one of your plans is going to work and you have Gales and Wyll's advice to thank! Maybe if this all goes well you will treat them to a drink at Elfsong. You will finally get your feelings off your chest, sure…it’s not exactly how you envisioned, but all the other attempts failed, this is easy and mess-free. 

Right as you reach the desk, something tells you to look up. Looking up you see Rolan descending the stairs wrapped up in whatever tome he is reading. He hasn’t seemed to notice you however so maybe you can just drop the letter and run-

“Hey Rolan! What udder luck, Tav has a letter for you!” -shit

Rolan looks away from his tome, eyes seeming to widen when he sees you and Karlach. You feel all the blood rush to your face as his eyes meet yours, you can’t quite tell if he is pleased to see you or not, kinda of appears to be…annoyed…or surprised? Damn that handsome studious face! 

Your hands tighten on the letter, you go to quickly place it on the desk and rush out but in the blink of an eye, the letter is out of your hand. Instead of it being in your hand or on the desk it's in Karlach’s hand as she is going towards the stairs…to Rolan…going to hand it to him! Oh, hells!

Rushing over to her you quickly snatch the letter from her hand. Karlach seems taken aback by your action, “Hey? What the fuck?” 

Karlach tries to take the letter back after you rudely snatched it. “Tav isn’t this for him?” 

“Uh…Yeah, but I changed my mind…”

“Changed your mind? But you said it was important?” 

Karlach goes to take the letter from you again but this time it is not so easy to take from your hand. Now in the middle of Sundries, you and Karlach are having a tug of war over a letter while Rolan looks at you two trying to piece together what is going on. With some quick moves on your part, you're able to shoulder check Karlach, not knocking her over by any means but just enough to cause her to loosen her hold slightly. 

Feeling successful you smile to yourself that you were able to get it back, but when you look back at Karlach your smile fades. Her eyes are narrowed and you see the hints of flames starting to spark around her, she looks pissed and you are about to get it. Looking up you see Rolan at the bottom of the stairs approaching you with a very irritated look, it makes sense you did have a fight in the middle of his shop. 

Shoving the letter down your pocket you do the thing that you only seem to know how to do nowadays, run. 

“Ohhhh…..so you wrote him a love letter….” 

“Yeah…I wanted to just leave it on his desk but…that didn’t work out….” 

You and Karlach sit on the stone wall looking out into the city watching the sunset. Of course, when you ran off she chased you down and demanded an explanation. You gave your explanation and that's how you are here now pouring your heart out to her. 

“Tav, I think you're going about this all wrong.”

“Oh? How do you figure?” 

“Well sure everyone giving their advice is nice but…I think you should just do what feels right to you. Instead of worrying about what he will say just…just stop being so scared and talk to him. Be honest. All these games, and trying to be sneaky isn’t how to do it. ” 

You take in her words for a moment before you speak, “So…you're telling me Lae’zel had the best advice? Being direct?” 

Karlach laughs “What I am saying is stop being so in your head Tav. Instead of talking to everyone else about this, just go talk to him. I promise it will be best that way.” 

“When should I do it?” 

Karlach hums then shrugs “Fuck if I know. Maybe it will just hit you.”

A smile spreads to your lips and you nod your head “Thanks Karlach, that...that's some really good advice…” 

Karlach smacks your back, basically knocking the air out of you. “Don’t worry I am here for all your relationship advice needs!” 

“So, how's Dammon?” you say coyly

“Oh don’t even start.” 

Laying in bed you think about all the advice your friends gave you and how all the advice had turned out. Why does this have to be so hard….

Looking outside you see how late it is, people all around are either asleep or going home to rest but as you lay you listen to the stillness of the city. Then your thoughts go back to Rolan. How you ache to be held in his arms…to get to look into those golden eyes on a dark still night like this. To talk to him about everything and nothing as his fingers gently caress your skin. You know you would so easily melt under his touch. How it would comfort you, how you want to comfort him. 

Rising from your warm bed you go to look out into the night of the city. With a click, you open the window and are met with the shivering cold of the night. A chill runs through you as you lean out and admire the star-dusted sky. For some reason, your thoughts go back to the night of the grove celebration. Rolan was being teased by his siblings as he focused on his fireworks show. They didn’t seem to be impressed but you clapped for him, before he gave some response about adoring fans there was a moment in his dark eyes where those golden fires shined just for you. That's when the glittering flickers within you started to storm. At the time you thought it was maybe residue from the magic, but now you know better. 

Holding your hands out into the still night you mimic the moves that Rolan taught you after a few goblets of wine after he got more comfortable around you or maybe just got tired of your begging. As you gesture you feel the fluttering of magic down your arms to your hands, motioning your arms up you release the spell. You used to call it just simple fireworks. Though after that night it now has a new name for both of you; Rolan’s Fire

“What are you calling it?” 

“Rolan’s Fire. You have to admit it has a nice ring to it.” 

The bursting lights grow in a flash then dim in a beautiful marriott of colors and white light. The elegance of the spell always fit him and it never failed to fill you with warmth, but now you still feel the bite of the cold despite how many memories of him you conger or how many times you spill the lights from your hands. 

“Just talk to him…” Karlach's words echo in your mind. Of course, it’s that simple, but would it be enough? Could you even be able to articulate how he sends sparks through you? Would he want you to? Or would he want something different…Clenching your fist hard, your mind running rampant with thoughts, with advice, with what you should do. Then finally you come to your decision. 

The cold air stings your face as you run down the dark streets. With every step, your mind screams how this is crazy but your heart urges your tired feet forward. Running as fast as your legs can take you, the city and the few late-night pedestrians blur beside you as your eyes keep forward to one goal. Ramazith’s Tower. 

Running up to the tower you don’t even give yourself a minute to catch your breath before banging on the doors with all your might. You know you won’t be able to rest until you finally settle this with him. Rolan needs to know, you need to know so you can function again. The pinning of your heart has thoroughly consumed you, it’s time. If only this damn door would open! 

The frustration you feel gets released as you beat against the door, 

“Stop beating against that damn door!” 

The voice sounds rough with sleep but still has that formal tone you have grown to listen for, to adore…

The door swinging open you immediately feel those sparks. His hair, usually tied back so precisely is knotted back in a messy rush, he looks surprised to see you. His handsome face contorted to scrunch in confusion at your slummed body still trying to catch your breath. Staring at him in this state is not helping you catch your breath in the slightest. 

Rolan's chest, usually concealed underneath his robes, is now exposed showing off his toned chest covered in those defining ridges that decorate his red skin. Unable to help yourself, your eyes follow the trail of his ridges to his abs then the simple trousers that are keeping the rest of him from you. 

“Tav?” his voice is laced with concern before it's going back to his usual irritated one. “What are you doing here? Going to act like a lunatic then run off again?” Rolan steps closer “What's been going on with you? I thought we were friends and you keep avoiding me! So what is it now that is so damned impor-”

“Rolan, how do I ask you out?” you interrupt while still trying to catch your breath. 

“Wh-What?” Rolan's dark eyes are wide, any trace of sleep has been knocked out of him by your question. 

Pushing past him you walk into the tower. The tower has usually been lit up when you have seen it before, but now it's dark and intimidating. Turning to look at Rolan he still has that shocked look on his face. You know your question is sudden, but you couldn’t think of anything else. Nervously you begin rambling. 

“Look, I know it’s a sudden question but I don’t know what else to do. I have asked everyone for advice, and I just can’t seem to do any of it right. So might as well just ask the source right? Because all the stuff I have tried I choke, or Im making a complete ass out of myself. So please, just tell me…so I can do it and get this…nonning ache out! I know the reject-” 

During your pacing rant, you feel hands cupping your face gently, slowly they raise your head to have you meet his golden eyes. All the words die off in your throat, Rolan’s is staring at you so intensely. With him so close you take in the details of his horns, the freckles peppering his red skin. The feeling of his hands warming your skin, you want to stay like this forever but you just wish you knew what he was thinking. 

“Rolan I-” 

“Quiet.” 

Rolan’s command instantly silences you. The sparks you have been feeling are erupting into a storm of excitement that rushes through you. His thumbs carefully brush against your skin only making you lean in closer. Rolons eyes glow in the darkness, you want to tell him how they set you on fire but right as you're parting your lips Rolan dips down and presses his mouth to yours. His soft lips make all your thoughts melt away. The thundering sparks are bursting into a warmth throughout your body. Rolan’s Fire…

Slowly as he keeps guiding your lips with a growing intensity, then carefully you feel your body being guided back. Once you feel your back meet the wall you break the kiss with a gasp, but it's only a quick second before his lips are pressing to yours once more. Rolan's hands slide down from your jaw to your hips bringing them closer to press against himself. A soft moan leaves your chest when you feel the hardness of his arousal straining against you. 

Rolan slips his tongue between your lips to taste you, the deepening of the kiss causes you to tighten your thighs feeling yourself getting wetter with each pass of his tongue. Your hands find a place on the hard ridges on his warm chest, as you trace over them slowly you feel him groan into the kiss. Then Rolan breaks the and his warm breath fans over your ear as he speaks.

“Ask me now.”

The words barely register in your foggy mind as you feel Rolan slipping his hands underneath your shirt. 

“What?” You can hardly manage the word, your shaky breath makes Rolan lean into your neck with a smile and a kiss, slowly he drags his soft lips against your skin sending shivers of excitement through you. Then his voice is back in your ear purring his words to you. 

“Ask me out again…tell me what you want…please…I need to hear it.” 

The hands underneath your shirt find your breasts and crease them as you stumble a moan trying to find your words. 

“Rolan…” 

“Yes?”, he whispers as he strips your shirt from you. His eyes roam over all your curves before he leans into your exposed chest, palming and lightly teasing at your sensitive skin. 

“I want you in every way possible…I..want you,” you practically cry as you feel him move from your chest to sink lower, sliding his lips against your stomach. Once reaching the hem of your pants he tugs down your pants, rolling your pants and underwear down carefully exposing your wet sex.  

Kneeling now you feel his lips press against your hips causing you to arch them forward. Shaky hands slide up the back of your thighs, suddenly you feel one of your legs being lifted to hook over his shoulder. Heart beating out of your chest you look down to see his eyes are already on you as he waits patiently on one knee. His eyes are completely blown with desire and you can feel the anticipation in his shaking touch as he rubs his hand on the outside of your thigh. 

“Go out with me?” you ask desperately. 

“Gods yes,” he groans before pressing his face into your folds, his hot tongue quickly finds your clit nudging and licking against the bundle making you throw your head back in a sharp gasp. 

Rolan being a quick learner latches onto your swollen bundle, sucking and twirling his tongue against it. The sudden stimulation has a moan escaping you then quickly your hand comes down to grasp one of his horns, holding on desperately as you watch him ravishingly pleasure you. 

Rolan's eyes widen then roll back as your grip gets tighter on his horn. The groan he releases from the sensation vibrates through you, tightening the coil in your stomach. The slick from your quivering slit is rolling down his chin. Moving slightly he laps his tongue to taste more, Adjusting so his perfect nose is rubbing against your clit. His tongue breaching your insides makes you grab both horns as you pull him in closer. You moan his name like a prayer as you ride against his face. 

The more you tug on his horns the more he groans, he can't help but grasp hard on your behind making you whine more as his nails dig into you. Your stomach starts to suddenly tighten more as his velvet tongue finds the sweet stop within you. 

“There! Fuck there! D-Don't, Ah!” you push your hips off the wall but he's quickly pushing them back against it to keep you still.  

Keeping his eyes on you, he watches as the hot wave of pleasure rushes through you. Clasping your hand over your mouth you moan and shake as your orgasm hits. Rolan eagerly licks and sucks up your release as you ride out your high. 

Finally coming down from it Rolan starts to move away from your spent cunt, though before he's moved away completely he gives a quick nip to your clit making you let out a sharp whine. 

Body feeling feverish you lean and brace yourself against the wall, trembling and breathing heavily. Rolan rises from his kneel and you watch in awe as a mix of your arousal and his spit glistens against his perfect face. He brings his hand to wipe his face, his eyes flicking down at you as he smiles then licks up the residue from his fingers. 

“Meet me at Elfsong tomorrow night?” 

Stars in your eyes you nod absentmindedly at him, “Yes…” 

Gods you can’t wait for tomorrow…

#baldurs gate 3 #baldurs gate 3 rolan #baldurs gate 3 smut #baldurs gate 3 fanfiction #baldurs gate 3 fic #bg3 #bg3 rolan #bg3 smut #bg3 fanfic #bg3 fanfiction #bg3 tav #rolan bg3 #rolan x reader #bg3 rolan smut #bg3 rolan x reader #bg3 rolan x tav #rolan fanfic #rolan x tav #rolan #pinning #bg3 x tav #bg3 x reader #bg3 fic #bg3 fluff #tiefling #tieflings #tav x rolan

[lovings4turn]

જ⁀➴  𝐊𝐈𝐒𝐒 𝐇𝐄𝐑 𝐘𝐎𝐔 𝐅𝐎𝐎𝐋  . . .  (𝐆. 𝐑.)

— two things are definite: you like george, and george likes you. unfortunately, you two seem to be the only ones who don't see it.

+ part of my 'be my valentine' mixtape series ! love this song and i was so excited to use it for a george fic, so i hope you enjoy <3

“oh mate, you’re joking.”

“shut up!” george huffed, running the palm of his hand down his face in exasperation. “it was not that bad.”

he could defend himself all he liked, because in spite of that, george knew it really was.

this was possibly the third time this month that george had fumbled his chance to ask you out, and alex was beginning to grow tired of his friend’s constant pining and lingering stares. 

“here’s what you’re gonna do,” alex said, his voice growing more serious as he looked george dead in the eyes. “you’re gonna ring y/n, and you’re gonna tell her you forgot something at her place. a shirt, socks, anything.”

"but i haven't?"

"not the point," alex groaned. "you're gonna tell her that, so you have an excuse to turn up there. this is your chance. don't be a stupid. tell her you think she's cool, that you like her, something to charm her."

george still wasn't convinced. his brows were pinched together as he ran over alex's plan in his mind, able to find a thousand different ways it could go wrong for him.

"right. and what happens when she realises that i haven't actually left anything there, and i just look like a massive twat for showing up?"

alex wasn't sure that he could take any more.

"mate, you can't just sit around and wait for some sort of fairy tale ending to come out of nowhere for you. at some point, you're just going to have to confess to her."

though he was being assertive, alex was still trying to be supportive, laying a hand on george's shoulder and delivering a friendly pat of encouragement.

"i can promise you she's probably thinking the exact same thing right now, anyways."

george scoffed, his answer hanging in the air unspoken. as if.

unbeknownst to george, alex was a lot closer to the truth than even he may have realised.

the events of the afternoon were playing on a loop in your mind as you tried to dissect every last piece of your interaction with george, from how he'd greeted you - a brief side hug and a smile - to how he'd said goodbye - a weak effort to get you to stay and a silly, yet endearing, wave.

was this your life now? driving yourself mad over even the smallest little details, all because of some stupid feelings?

when you'd first started developing somewhat of a crush on the mercedes driver, you made a promise to yourself that it would never become a thing. and you had kept that promise for roughly four months, until you made a huge error: revealing your feelings to someone else.

ever since you had let it slip to a friend that you actually quite liked george in ways that far surpassed the platonic label, you'd been - for lack of a better phrase - absolutely fucked.

now you had people to fuel your delusions, try to convince you that george had to feel the same way, and no, of course he wasn't just being polite when he offered you his jacket, you fool. outside interference and reassurance should have made you more confident in your feelings, maybe even push you to confess, but instead they'd had the opposite effect.

the weight of the word 'hopeless' in hopeless romantic had really started to resonate with you. though you weren't allowed to dwell on your misfortunes for too long.

some may have chalked it up to fate, some may have attributed it to a divine power wanting to laugh at a poor mortal, but whatever the reason, your phone rang with an incoming call from george.

the stupid candid photo you’d taken as a contact picture flashed up on your screen, and the automatic smile that painted your lips made you want to yell in frustration.

"y/n, hi!"

pathetic was the perfect word to describe you, thanks to how utterly gone you were for george, as the mere sound of your name leaving his lips was enough to make your heart jump.

"sorry, know i only saw you a few hours ago, but i just remembered that i think i left one of my mercedes shirts at yours when i was there the other day."

you didn't even think twice about it, why would you? george had left countless items at your place in the past, and he would leave more in the future.

"no problem. y'can always come by and get it, i'll try and grab it for you."

george's chest ached at how ready to help you were.

"yeah? you're a lifesaver, y/n, really. i'll set off now, should be there in about fifteen minutes."

brief 'see you later's were exchanged, and the moment you set your phone down onto the coffee table, your hunt began.

you didn't recall seeing one of george's shirts anywhere around, but previous mishaps had enlightened you to the fact that things could turn up anywhere. you'd thought that the shoes buried right underneath your bed were odd, until a sock turned up in your bread bin a few weeks later.

nothing was off limits anymore.

yet, somehow, no matter where you looked, you couldn't find the fucking shirt. frustration slowly nibbled at your mind, the sound of a knock being the only thing to break you from your frantic search.

an annoyingly attractive george russell greeted you when you swung open the front door.

in all of the years he'd known you, george thought this was the most adorable you'd looked.

your hair was in disarray, the strands unkempt as though you'd been running your hands through it over and over again. your face shone a little, and you were clearly a little out of breath, if the small, panting gasps you took were anything to go by.

your apartment was a mess, and george quickly realised that you'd turned your entire place practically upside down to try and find a shirt that wasn't even there in the first place.

guilt began to bubble up in his throat, and george hoped that, after today, it would all be worth it. he only had one chance, and he wasn't going to fuck it up.

before he could allow doubt to creep into his mind and sow seeds of regret, george lifted a hand to cup your jaw. the feeling of your soft skin against his palm elicited a gasp to slip from his mouth. the parting of his lips provided you with the perfect opportunity to meld your lips together in a chaste, sweet kiss.

feelings went unspoken, for now. time would grant you the chance to properly word every last affection you harboured for one another at a later date.

besides, george was a firm believer that actions spoke louder than words, and this kiss was living proof.

george forced himself to pull back, his forehead resting against your own, and he believed that to die like this would be a blessed fate. because you were definitely going to kill him when you found out the truth.

"i lied, by the way. there was no shirt," he mumbled, blue eyes meeting yours with a wince.

"you fucking dick."

#.° ༘🗝️⋆₊ becca’s drabbles #𐙚˙⋆.˚ ᡣ𐭩 becca's 'be my valentine' special #george russell #george russell x reader #george russell x you #f1 x reader #formula one x reader #f1 x you #formula one x you

[bloodyknucklesforme]

Carnal | VIII | When You Open Me

Carnal(adjective) : relating to or given to crude bodily pleasures and appetites

Simon was born with what his father called 'The Curse'. A wanton craving for taboo meat. Since meeting the similarly cursed Johnny, the two had formed a bond. They didn't just fight together, they ate together, slept together, and shared everything.

When a favor to Price reveals another cursed person, Simon worries she could destroy everything.

Masterpost

CW: cannibalism, gore, smut, anal sex

This is very much a horror fic mostly based around the films Raw (2017) and Bones and All (2022), if you sit through those you should be good here. This is my first horror fic.

Chapter Title Credit: Two Men in Love -The Irrepressibles

Johnny liked taking walks around the ‘house’ in the mornings. It was more of an estate considering how much land was included but Nina always referred to it as ‘the house’. To the East side was an old stable, empty for years. The path connecting it to the driveway had become overgrown. To the West and North were all woods. 

“I don’t go there,” Nina said, when he asked about walking trails. 

“Never? I would have been all over that as a kid. You can always join me…if you want”

“No…Just be careful.”

He never saw anyone else out there. He enjoyed the privacy but it was strange considering how beautiful and easy to walk it was. 

It was eight in the morning when he walked back into the house. Nina was awake by then, taking the kettle off the stove. She made tea, he made breakfast. Simple eggs and toast today. He’d have to go hunting again next weekend. 

“Who’s Simon?” She asked, stirring sugar into her cup. 

Johnny choked on his tea. Nina was unfazed as he wiped his chin off. He hadn’t wanted to admit that he still dreamt about Simon. He tried to dream about Nina. It didn’t feel kind to do otherwise. They were sharing a bed now. 

“Is that mask’s name?” 

“Aye, it is.”

“Can I ask about what happened between you two?”

“You can. Don’t know if I’ll answer.”

He didn’t truly understand it himself. One moment they were partners, comrades, lovers and the next Simon didn’t want him. Johnny had blamed himself for it all. His eagerness, his hopeless romanticness, his naivety. 

He’d wanted too much. Simon only wanted food and a fuck. Love was never on the table. Johnny wanted to be claimed, to be kept like a promise. He wanted Simon to consume him. 

Simon had wrapped himself around Johnny’s brain like a parasite and he was helpless to stop it. It made him feel like a schoolgirl, how enamored he was with him at one point. Chasing him down the halls, meeting in dark corners, the burn he felt whenever Simon touched his shoulder.

He expected too much from him. Simon was The Ghost. Any tenderness wouldn’t have lasted, it would all grow cold eventually. 

He’d fooled himself into believing he could bring the dead back to live. Make Simon his Lazurus. Breath life into him, make them into something better, something new. 

Like the grass in Oxfordshire. It was Spring, they were camping in a field. Everything was growing again, finding food would be easier as it got warmer Simon had said. Last night’s hunt cooking on a small fire. Johnny remembered thinking it was going to burn. 

They both had their jeans around their ankles. Simon had laid his jacket under Johnny’s head for comfort. Simon was gentle with him. Johnny’s spend covering Simon’s hand from earlier, using it to prep him.   

“You ready Johnny?” Simon stroked his back with one hand while three fingers on the other spread him open. 

Thinking back he hated how desperate and pathetic he was. Always begging for Simon’s affection, affection that had him pressed against the earth a random Sunday night in Spring. A day that used to be holy to him, when he’d walk up to the altar and eat the body and drink the blood of his savior. 

Now he ate and drank with his savior. 

“Please,” he moaned. He choked on air as Simon pushed the head of his cock inside him. His fingers tangled in the grass. Simon rocked his hips back and forth, keeping a steady pace. It was romantic…almost. He could close his eyes and pretend it was at least.

His first time in front of a fire and under the stars. He could lie to himself and say Simon loved him. It felt like love when he was laying sloppy kisses to Johnny’s neck and spilling filthy words into his ear. When their hands interlocked as Simon hunched over Johnny, chest to back. 

“Wait…” He gasped. Simon pulled out and brushed his knuckles across Johnny’s face.

“You alright?”

“I want…I want to look at ya.” Hopeless romantic.

Simon chuckled and helped move him onto his back. He leaned on his forearm, framing Johnny’s face. Johnny whimpered when Simon stroked his cock before pushing back inside him. Johnny grunted and grabbed the back of Simon’s neck. 

Simon tasted like blood and cheap beer. His tongue danced across Johnny’s lips, he opened his mouth eagerly. 

“S’tight. Mm’fuck! Johnny…” Simon caught his bottom lip between his teeth and tugged. “Touchyerself’

Johnny obeyed, wrapping a hand around his cock and stroking up and down. His stomach was heaving, feet twitching and back arching. He was close. 

“Please Si, please. Ahh..fuck..please… I need it.” Johnny leaned his bad back, exposing his neck. He wanted Simon to bite him, to mark him. Something physical to last after this moment. Proof that they were something more, not just partners, sergeant and lieutenant, teammates. 

Simon grabbed his face and pulled him back into a kiss. Johnny’s vision went white, his last breath caught in his chest. He came in his hand. Simon groaned and shuddered, pushing himself as deep as he could before following suit. 

They did burn dinner. It didn’t matter to Johnny. They kissed until Simon went soft inside him. 

He’d never been happier in his life. 

“You moaned his name last night,” She said, taking a sip of her tea. Her eyes never left him. “I’m not jealous or anything… I miss Arthur sometimes too.”

“What were you doing with a twat like that anyways?” Johnny asked, changing the subject. It was a rude question. He didn’t know what actually happened. Price didn’t like him but she might have. 

“Normalcy.” She shrugged. Her face fell, her normal look of neutrality turned to sadness. “He seemed nice at the time.”

She pouted and set her cup down harshly, sloshing tea.

“I didn’t want to kill him.” 

“I’m sorry.”

“He’d never gotten physical before. We’d yell all the time but that night he just grabbed me and was shaking me.” She stood up, grabbing her cup and plate. “I’m not strong. I can’t fight. I was only able to kill him because he didn’t think I could. I could barely get his body off me.”

She left her things in the sink and left. He didn’t mean to poke a wound. He did the dishes. 

She was the one to make contact again. He was half paying attention to some eastenders rerun when she came up behind him and wrapped herself around him.

“I’m sorry for bringing him up,” she said, resting her chin on his shoulder. 

“You’re okay. I know you're curious.” He reached around to stroke the back of her head. “I’m sorry for bringing Arthur up.”

She hugged him tighter. 

“I won’t ever touch ya like that, Nina. I won’t let anyone else do it either.” He and Simon hunted those types of men for a reason. He didn’t see Nina as helpless but she was right, she wasn’t strong. Her teeth were her only weapon and those could be broken easily. She had a hunting rifle stored in the upstairs closet. He’d get ammo for her before he was deployed again. Have her keep it under the bed instead. 

He kissed her, falling backwards to trap her on the couch. She laughed. He liked that she always wore dresses. Made it easier to kiss up her legs. The fabric shrouded his head as he licked up her cunt. Pink floral bunched up at her hips as he thrusted into her. 

They spent most of their time together fucking either that or watching a some dumb movie until that also devolved into fucking. It wasn’t out of pure lust. He liked the after more than the actual act. Being able to hold her to his chest, the smell of vanilla and sex filling the room. Sometimes cedar as well.

He knew Simon would come by to watch them sometimes. He’d resisted punching him in the jaw for it. He did miss him. He did dream about him. Dreamt about him and Nina together. 

Simon behind him, Nina under him. Naked, clothed, covered in blood; it depended on the night. Any time he watched Simon leave, he wanted to call out to him. The three of them together could make it work. Teach Nina to hunt, have a safe place to live. Less camping in fields, more nights in the living room by the fireplace. 

He liked this house and Nina but he missed Simon. Whatever life they were building didn’t feel complete without him. 

“I’ll go get us something to eat, yeah?” He said, pushing the hair from her face. Hopefully something fresh, even an animal would do. 

“Do you want me to come with you?” She asked, kissing his cheek. 

“No. It’s easier when I’m alone.” He wasn’t skilled enough to bring her with him. Killing was easy, yes but getting someone alone, doing it unseen was harder. He grabbed his coat, gloves, boots and the old ghost team balaclava. “I’ll be back soon.”

It wasn’t soon. Four hours later he tore into the driveway, a dead man in the backseat and a knife in his gut. He didn’t even realize he got stuck till he tried to lift the corpse up. He couldn’t leave the body. Luckily his car was close. He’d fucked up. He barely made it back. He leaned against the horn, holding pressure around the blade. He had no idea how deep it was. 

“Nina!” His voice was hoarse. Would she even reach him? Would be disposed of the same way as Arthur? Would Price burn his car and dump his body in the sea? 

He hoped she’d eat him. 

He saw the front door open, his eyes squinting from the light. 

“Johnny!” She smelled like vanilla. Her arms hooked under his as she tried to drag him out of the car. “Just keep pressure on it. Oh god.”

The gravel of the drive scratched against his legs. They collapsed into the foyer. Nina rolled him onto his back. She teleported around with every blink. 

Her hand against his cheek anytime he closed his eyes for too long. She cut off his shirt. 

“Oh fuck. Oh my god.” She looked horrified. “I can’t take it out. Johnny it’s deep. I…I don’t know what to do.”

The ceiling light made a halo around her head. 

“M’sorry.” He didn’t know if she could even hear him. He tried to focus on her face. There was blood on it, his blood. Her hands were red. She turned away from him. No, come back. He wanted to look at her. He wanted to see something beautiful when he died. He was dying. He was going to die.

“I can’t stop the bleeding. Please, help me,” She was begging to something unseen. A larger pair of hands covered hers. 

“Get disinfectant and a belt!” Simon barked at her. He could hear Nina run away. “Needle and thread!”

The familiar scent of cedar filled his head. Cedar and vanilla. It was wonderful. 

Simon and Nina had the same eye color, he thought. Big brown eyes. He loved their big brown eyes. 

“Stay with it, Johnny. You’ll be alright,” Simon’s bloodied knuckles brushed against his cheek. His eyelids were heavy, the world was slowing down, getting darker till the only light in the world was in that foyer. 

“Nina! Hurry!” Simon yelled. 

The light went out. 

Tag list: @gogh-with-the-flow @queen-ilmaree

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#Carnal #simon ghost riley x oc #simon ghost riley x john soap mactavish #ghostsoap #modern warfare II #modern warfare #call of duty fanfic #call of duty #john soap mactavish #John soap mactavish x oc #soapghost #simon ghost riley #ghost x soap

[rubykgrant]

(I can't believe I forgot about the April Fools joke in this, it was so relevant, and I didn't even do it on purpose, it just worked out all perfect... anyway, sharing this again for those reasons; Grif and Simmons telling the others about their whole relationship, the initial disbelief, and Tucker FINALLY feeling VINDICATED~)

The movie had been a late one, beginning at 9:30 at night… by the time they got home, it was after 1 in the morning. Technically, the next day. Grif was especially tired, barely holding in all the snippy little comments about how stupid it was for Simmons to suggest they walk there and back; the only reason he had agreed was because it was early Autumn, cool outside without being cold, and it smelled nice (that combination of dead leaves and dry grass starting to get damp). Grif was turning into a hopeless romantic when it came to their dating activities… and now he was paying the price.

“I can’t make it, man… go on without me…” Grif moaned in a pathetically tragic way as he flopped down on the couch in the living room. Oh, the drama.

“Grif, c’mon… if you sit down, you won’t get back up…” Simmons tugged half-heartedly on the sleeve of his jacket.

“Just leave me here to die… but YOU, you can still live your life…” now Grif was leaning over… and since Simmons wouldn’t let go, he took the guy down with him.

“Grif, you’re such a baby!” Simmons scolded… and Grif responded to the scolding by wiggling beneath Simmons so he was on his back, with them chest-to-chest. Now that he felt cozy, Grif wrapped his arms around Simmons’ waist and snuggled his face under Simmons’ chin. “Oh, no you don’t! Grif, I wanna sleep in the bed! And change out of my clothes, too!”

Simmons huffed and puffed and… really wasn’t trying all that hard to get away. He could probably roll to the side and slip free; instead he was letting out a sigh and kicking off his shoes. Grif grinned against his neck, feeling victorious, and did the same.

“I can’t believe you’re making me sleep on the couch with you… in my freaking JEANS,”

“Oh yeah, I’m MAKING you… got a gun to your head and everything…” Grif murmured. “Also, this is what you get for making me walk across town and back… and if you hate those jeans so much, take ‘em off…”

“Oh OK, I’ll just sleep in the living room in my UNDERWEAR, everybody will LOVE to wake up and see THAT…” Simmons let out a squeaky eep-noise when one of Grif’s hands left his waist and grabbed his butt.

“I sure like seeing it when I wake up…” Grif chuckled, and Simmons made more cute noises; partially in an indignant way and partially in a flattered way. “And hey- that’ll let them know we’re dating if they see us sleeping half-naked together,”

“Pfff… everybody will just think we got drunk… like last time when we ALMOST slept on the couch,” Simmons squirmed a little until he got comfortable (it wasn’t hard, Grif was like a big marshmallow).

“Oh yeah… you practically gave me a lap-dance, in front of EVERYBODY,” Grif gave his butt another little squeeze.

“Did not,” Simmons replied, no longer bothering to get flustered by how handsy his boyfriend was. “But you somehow managed to get us both to the bed THAT night… what happened to my prince charming, carrying me off to sleep?”

“You only get prince charming once a month… he needs time to re-charge…” Grif kissed his cheek. “But I love you all the time,”

“I love you too… lazy-ass,” Simmons kissed him back on the lips, and they both finally started to drift off making quiet hums of contented laughter.

In the hours of the early morning as they slept, Grif turned himself so he was against the back of the couch, and Simmons slid down beside him… but was safe from falling off; Grif still had his arms wrapped snuggly around Simmons. Some nights they kept to themselves while they slept (usually if it was too hot to cuddle), but more often than not they would get all wrapped up in each other. Even if they had made it to the bed instead of crashing on the couch, this is still how they would have ended up (minus the jeans).

The sun was slow to come up, taking it’s sweet time… somebody had also pulled all the curtains in the living room shut yesterday, so it stayed dark just a little bit longer… the others must have stayed up late on their own as well, because even the early-risers weren’t out and about yet… all this added up to Grif and Simmons being able to sleep on the couch until after 9 in the morning. Then, somebody came shuffling down the hallway from their room, and started knocking stuff around in the kitchen.

Simmons heard the unmistakable CRACK of something hitting the floor… a plastic-something, so it didn’t break, but it was followed by an also unmistakable voice muttering “… ah, fuckberries…”. Grif whimpered in protest at the noise, and tried to bury his face into Simmons’ chest, in hopes of blocking out the world.

Simmons wasn’t helping; he sat up to look at what was happening in the kitchen.

“Tucker? What did you drop?” he asked, eyes still blurred from sleep.

“Nothing, just… bumped into that bowl on the counter. S’fine…” Tucker was already picking it back up. The bowl usually had various snacks or fruit sitting in it for people to grab, but was currently empty. Tucker’s real task seemed to be making himself coffee. Thankfully, he had pulled some pajama pants on before coming out of his room (Tucker still slept naked whenever possible).

“Well, you woke us up, jack-ass…” Grif sat up now too, looking like a grumpy bear emerging from hibernation.

“Oh, excuuuuuse me… I didn’t realize I walked into your BED ROOM. That’s where we are, right? Your bed room, not the kitchen and living room? The place we all SHARE? Where people do stuff when they’re AWAKE?” Tucker shot him an irritated look. “Besides, what am I interrupting? Nothing, that’s what. All you two ever do is NOTHING… couple of teases… slow-burning like a tire fire…”

Now Grif and Simmons glanced at each other… because they knew EXACTLY what Tucker was talking about. He’d been insisting that they were basically married and totally in love for YEARS, and they had adamantly denied it. This had always driven Tucker crazy, especially when the two of them kept on winding up in suspicious situations… like sleeping all cuddled up together.

Well, denial time was over. Simmons smiled at Grif who nodded to him.

“Actually, Tucker… we, um… we wanted to talk to you about that,” Simmons began.

“Yeah…” Grif continued. “We were gonna tell everybody, but we might as well start with you. You’ll probably appreciate it the most, anyway…”

Tucker made a disinterested grunt as he picked out a mug.

“Tucker, we’re dating now. We FINALLY figured out how we felt, and stopped being so stupid about it,” Simmons threw an arm over Grif’s shoulders, and Grif hugged him across the chest.

“Yeah, dude. It’s true. I know it took way too long, but we’re actually together. Like, TOGETHER, in a relationship! Last night, we were out hugging and kissing, and everything!”

Now they both smiled at him. Tucker looked unimpressed.

“Haha. Very funny,” he rolled his eyes, went back to watching the coffee drip.

“Tucker, we’re SERIOUS!” Simmons insisted.

“Oh WHATEVER, I don’t believe you. It isn’t funny to try and prank me when I just got out of bed, either… but I guess this is payback for waking you both up? Gotta say, you improvise pretty fast… should’ve saved this for April Fool’s, though…”

“This isn’t a prank, man! And hey- did you miss the part where you woke us up because we were SLEEPING TOGETHER?” Grif pointed out.

“Yeah, sleeping on the couch… big deal. Everybody falls asleep together there. Last week, I fell asleep with Sarge and Carolina on the couch, but you don’t hear me bragging like I had a 3-way,” Tucker was now rummaging around in a drawer for a spoon.

“He’s not gonna believe us…” Simmons sighed.

“Unless… we do something DRASTIC,” Grif told him.

“Yeah. Let’s go for it,” Simmons agreed. “Tucker? TUCKER! Look over here! Seriously, Tucker! LOOK!”

“Look at us! Come on! TUCKER, LOOK! LOOK-LOOK-LOOK!” Grif joined in.

“What do you bitches WANT?!” Tucker whipped around to glare at them.

Now that they finally had his attention, Grif and Simmons kissed.

To really sell it, Simmons made sure to slide a hand up into Grif’s hair, affectionately stroking the back of his head. Grif happily moaned at this (perhaps just a little louder than he usually did so early in the morning; they had an audience, after all). The kiss continued for a while… a lot longer than something done simply as a joke. It looked downright ROMANTIC and SINCERE. This wasn’t all for show, either; for minute, they forgot all about proving something to Tucker and just got lost in the kiss…

“AAAAAHHHHH!!!” Tucker’s scream snapped them back to reality; they opened their eyes, but they didn’t break apart. Now they were smiling with their mouths pressed together, trying not to laugh. They heard the sound of Tucker running off to the side, and then the sliding-glass door opening to the patio. This is what finally makes them separate, to see what the heck he’s up to.

Tucker runs back in, still screaming, his arms now full of… flowers? These were the roses Tex had grown in her little garden out on the roof; she had white, yellow, pink, and red ones… most of them were done for the year, but the pink roses were still blooming. This is what Tucker had, several pink roses. He was now ripping their petals off in fistfuls, throwing them at Grif and Simmons. It was like some kind of aggressive yet supportive celebration. He was also still SCREAMING.

“What in the unholy FUCK!?” they all heard somebody shout from down the hallway that lead to the bed rooms. “Somebody better be DYING out there!”

That was Church, but he wasn’t the only one who had noticed Tucker acting like an emergency alert siren. Several more voices were grumbling and groaning now, followed by doors opening, and footstep coming down the hall.

Simmons and Grif were grinning on the couch, snorting and sputtering with nervous laughter, blinking at the rose petals raining down in their faces, as everybody came into the living room to see what all the fuss was about. This was already more of an extravagant display than they had intended it to be… but now it was just too funny to stop.

Sarge had his shotgun (which thankfully wasn’t loaded), in case they were under attack. Wash had tripped on something in the hallway (the foot of an invisible Locus), and Carolina caught him before he face-planted on the floor. Doc had a small first-aid kit, ready to slap a bandage on somebody. Caboose was still barely awake, bumping into walls and people as we walked out, adjusting his direction when this happened, like a Roomba. Donut had a bad case of bed-head, and he was already mortified to be seen in such a state. Kai was worse; she had slept without taking her hair out of a ponytail, and now the hair-tie was all twisted up in a mess (she didn’t care, though). Lopez was carefully trying to maneuver around people and get to the front of the crowd. Finally, Church came stomping down the hall, ready to kill whoever wasn’t dying. The others hopped out of his way, which was pretty funny considering how not-afraid they were of him… but right now he was sending out maximum pissed-off-vibes. Behind him was Tex, who looked equally confused and irritated, but still too fuzzy-headed to put any effort into being threatening. Church could go from 0 to 100 at the drop of a hat, and he was currently at 88.

“Tucker…” Church’s voice came out like gravel. “Why. Are you. SCREAMING? And the answer better be GOOD,”

“THEM! GRIF AND SIMMONS! I SAW THEM! I SAW-” Tucker was bouncing up and down like a kid on his birthday who just noticed a huge present in the corner. He pointed to the two men who were sitting on the couch, looking over the back at everybody who had gathered. Without even saying anything to each other, they both decided to do the exact same thing; mess with Tucker. They innocently shrugged, all wide-eyed, as if they had no idea what Tucker was talking about.

“Yes, Tucker… we ALL see them… you don’t need to yell about it, jeez…” Caboose told him, and then looked at Church. “OH, HELLO CHURCH! I SEE YOU! GOOD MORNING!”

“No no no, you don’t understand!” Tucker shook his head. “They were-”

“LAVERNIUS TUCKER! Are those MY roses?!” Tex gasped when she finally noticed what he had in his arms.

“Oooh, she first-named you… you’re in trouble~” Donut teased.

“Tex, I’m sorry, but I NEEDED them!”

“For WHAT? Your own funeral? Because I have to kill you now. I hope you realize that,” then she glanced around the couch. “Ugh, and you made a mess everywhere… you’re cleaning this up before you die,”

“Listen to me, dammit! These two! Right here! Grif and Simmons! THEY WERE KISSING!” Tucker pointed at them again, and flung another handful of petals as he did so.

Everybody finally seemed to wake up. They looked curiously at Simmons and Grif, who were feeling muscle cramps in their guts; trying to keep a blank-face when every fiber of your being wanted to crack up was not only a test of mental and emotional strength… it took a physical toll as well.

“I have no clue what he’s talking about…” Grif said, leaning himself over the back of the couch and yawning.

“Yeah… we got back from the movie late and passed out on the couch. Tucker woke us up just now by screaming, we’re as confused as the rest of you,” Simmons could feel how much his face WANTED to twitch (the non-metallic side, anyway), but somehow he kept himself under control. His voice was cracking from the concentration though… but nobody could tell the difference between this and his normal squeak.

Everybody groaned and rolled their eyes; this was clearly just another stupid stunt Tucker was pulling to try and force Grif and Simmons together.

“NOOOOO! You guys can’t do this to me!” Tucker wailed.

“Come on Tucker, give it a rest!” Carolina waved her hand at him in a settle-down gesture. “It is to early to pull a prank like this,”

“No, but- THAT’S WHAT I SAID! And then they kissed! Right in front of me! It happened!”

“Aquaman, you might wanna get your eyes checked…” Sarge muttered.

“Oh! I know how to test eye sight, we could do that later if you want!” Doc offered helpfully… and then O’Malley added something extra. “But if you wake us up by SCREECHING like that again, I will intentionally get you the incorrect prescription for your glasses, and then EVERYTHING will be blurry FOREVER!”

“I don’t need glasses! I need y’all to LISTEN TO ME!”

“Tucker…” Wash began, using a more gentle tone. “You were probably still sleepy when you came out here, and then you saw them on the couch, so your brain made you THINK-”

“I SAW WHAT I SAW!” Tucker interrupted him, then turned back to the two LIARS on the couch. “Stop making them think I’m crazy! You both SAID you wanted to tell everybody! Well, now everybody is here! Tell them! Better yet, SHOW THEM!”

Kai was a little worried… what if Tucker had seen them kissing, and now they were caught and embarrassed? Should she start trying to distract people? De-escalating Tucker was going to be the hard part… wait, he said they wanted to tell everybody? Was that true, or was Tucker just BS-ing? If Dex wanted her to redirect all this attention, he better figure out a way to let her know…

On the couch, Grif straightened back up and turned toward Simmons with a very sly expression. Simmons’ face finally split into a smile as he leaned closer to Grif. Their hands touched, fingers lacing together. This made all the others focus on them again… because it looked like… well, it looked like they were going to…

This time, Grif reached behind Simmons, gently holding the back of his neck and pulling him close. Simmons also switched by making the happy noise, sighing into the kiss and melting against Grif.

They were kissing. Clearly, obviously, undeniably KISSING.

They looked like they had some practice doing this, too.

“AAAAAAAAHHHHHHH!!!” and there Tucker went, screaming and throwing more rose petals over them.

For a few minutes, everybody else was just stunned into silence.

“Oh wow… Ok, so Tucker DIDN’T just imagine it!” Wash marveled, then laughed as he started clapping for them.

“Wait, SERIOUSLY!?” Church’s voice cracked. “This is happening? How long has this been happening?”

“Mmm… about 7 months, 2 weeks, and 3 days…” Simmons answered, moving away from Grif just enough to talk, but still keeping their bodies pressed together and looking at him like he was the whole world.

“Have you been counting the hours, too?” Grif touched his forehead to Simmons’, looking utterly enamored himself. The two of them giggled together.

“OK, that’s… that’s actually pretty damn cute,” Church admitted, all the anger gone from his voice, his expression turning soft.

“I’m just glad I don’t have to act like nothing’s going on anymore…” Kai said, walking over to the couch.

“Wait, you KNEW?” Tucker asked, finally out of flowers.

“Duh, this is my BROTHER. How could I NOT know? And speaking of which, now that the cat’s out of the bag, I can finally give Simmons my obligatory protective-sibling-speech,” she reached out, clasping Simmons’ chin in her hand, and turning his head so he had to look at her. He had a mildly alarmed expression mixed with a confused flat-smile, eyebrows rising up high. “If you break his heart, I’ll break your legs. Understand?”

“That sounds fair,” Simmons agreed.

“Good!” Kai kissed him on the cheek and released his chin. Before walking away, she gave Dex a pat on the shoulder. “And if YOU break HIS heart, then I’ll break YOUR legs!”

“Sis, you don’t need to threaten me and my boyfriend into treating each other right, we’re already pretty good at it!” he protested, but wasn’t able to stop smiling.

“HE SAID BOYFRIEND! THEY’RE BOYFRIENDS! YOU ALL HEARD IT!” Tucker was still too keyed-up to stay still. He’d been waiting for this to happen for YEARS. He had almost given up hope forever. Now, at last… the orange and maroon idiots were BOYFRIENDS.

“Wait, I thought… weren’t you two dating like, a long time ago? And then you broke up recently, or something?” Tex muttered, utterly confused.

“No, no…” Church explained. “They weren’t dating before. They were, uh, well they were kinda-”

“They’ve been being STUPID and dragging their heels for more than a DECADE!” Tucker added.

Grif and Simmons had to laugh and nod, because yes. This was true.

“Dating? I thought they were married this whole time!” Caboose said. He sounded genuinely distraught. “When did you get divorced?”

“Caboose, no… they didn’t- they weren’t-” Church wasn’t sure how to even start telling him what was incorrect with all of that.

“Well, I’m just glad they got back together. Maybe THIS time when they get re-married, they’ll invite us all to the wedding!” Caboose clapped his hands together once, excited.

“UH, YEAH, WE’D BETTER GET AN INVITE!” Donut spoke up, his high-pitched volume rivaling Tucker’s screech from earlier. “And right now, I want DETAILS! Who said the L-word first, who kissed who first, how many dates have you had, wait was last night a REAL date, have you two been sneaking off on romantic rendezvous every time you go do something together, have you guys taken this to the NEXT LEVEL yet, who-”

“Woah now!” Doc leaned over to try and get Donut to settle down before he started asking VERY personal and specific questions. “I think the most important thing to focus on is- we’re all proud of you two! So much emotional growth, and you decided to share it with us. I mean, we all kinda thought you guys had something there… or you COULD have something, but after so long we assumed it was just never going to happen. Seeing you both finally being honest and affectionate is really great!”

“Thanks Doc,” Grif smiled at him. “And Donut? I said I loved him first, but he didn’t get it, so nothing happened for a while. Then, he finally started to get a clue, but I wasn’t taking him seriously. Y’know, because we’re both stupid. We had a WHOLE conversation about being in love… uh, 7 months, 2 weeks, and 3 days ago, and that’s when we actually kissed. First he kissed me, then I kissed him. We went on a real date after that, and… I think last night was date number 34? Unless you add times where we just sit around at home and stuff… that would make about 55,”

“Pfff, and you made fun of ME for keeping track of how long we’ve been dating!” Simmons nestled his face into Grif’s hair. “Also, I guess stuff on Chorus still doesn’t count?”

“NO, IT DOESN’T!” Grif snapped, and the others around them laughed.

As the giggles and chuckles begin to die down, something shifts in the air by the refrigerator… then a shape takes form.

“Congratulations. I hope you’ll be happy together,” It was Locus. His sudden appearance made Donut, Doc, and Church jump. He faded away again, evidently feeling that he had satisfied the social requirements for a situation like this.

“Hey, wait a minute! I KNEW you were here! Church didn’t believe me when I said I thought you were in the apartment last night, but I knew!” Tex leaned over, waving her hands around in that direction, until she touched something unseen but solid. “You can’t trick somebody who ALSO used to sneak around invisible! And we TOLD you, just come hang out with us when you’re lonely, you don’t need to hide!”

Locus attempted to slip away, but she had a good grip on him now. He finally gave up, becoming visible again. It certainly was an odd sight; everybody else in various pajamas, Grif and Simmons still wearing their clothes from the date… then there was Locus, in full armor. Because he was just like that.

“Here Caboose, you hold him! Don’t let him go until he learns a lesson about friendship, OK?” Tex hoisted Locus up to Caboose, who promptly wrapped his arms around the very awkward and flustered man, holding him off the floor.

“OK! Hi, Locus!”

“Hello, Caboose…”

Laughter once again filled the apartment, and when it died down… they could what sounded like… sobbing?

It was Carolina and Sarge.

He was clutching his shotgun against his chest as very MANLY tears streaked down his cheeks, running through the spiky stubble growing on his face. She had her hands clenched into fists at her sides, eyebrows scrunched together, and a mess of a runny nose.

“Sarge? Oh my GOD, are you CRYING?” Grif asked, while Simmons could only stare.

“My boys…” Sarge choked out. “My boys are IN LOVE…”

He looked ready to just break-down; thankfully Donut and Doc were close enough to help hold him up.

“Aww… it’s OK, Sarge!” Donut said as the gruff old man leaned his head down, crying into Donut’s shoulder. From the couch, Simmons made a sympathetic whimpering noise… because he still couldn’t help but feel a swell of pride whenever Sarge made any reference to him as a son. Grif was less accustomed to this, but it was hitting him hard right here. They were his boys, he loved them, and they loved each other. The way Donut was smiling about it all… well, this was just a touching Red Team Family Moment, wasn’t it? A few years ago, this would have made Grif gag. Now… despite how awkward this whole situation was, Grif was actually sort of… happy everybody was here for it. Crap, he was just as corny as Simmons.

“What about you, Carolina?” Simmons asked, blinking back a few tears that were building in the corners of his eyes. “Are you alright?”

“NO- YES- I’M JUST- YOU TWO LOOK REALLY NICE TOGETHER, ALRIGHT? I CAN SEE HOW HAPPY YOU ARE, AND I’M REALLY HAPPY FOR YOU, AND-AND-” Carolina brought one had up to hide her face as her voice started to get shaky. The other hand she raised to flip them off. “FUCK YOU BOTH FOR DOING THIS TO ME!”

For her, Wash and Church tried to lean over and give her a hug, but she smacked them both away- they could tell it was only for show, so they tried again, and this time she let the comforting happen.

Lopez had been pretty quiet through this whole mess. He often just stood back and watched the humans be stupid, sometimes adding his own commentary, whether they listened to him or not. Now, he decided to say something direct. He walked over to the couch, placing one robotic hand on Grif’s shoulder, and another on Simmons’.

“Eres tan estúpido … No ME tomó más de una década decirle a mi amado cómo me sentía…” [You're so stupid... It didn't take me more than a decade to tell my love how I felt...] he was talking about himself and Sheila, his beautiful tank that would always have a special place in his “heart”. Lopez hadn’t wasted years and years in that regard; their romance had been clear and passionate from the beginning. “… pero me alegro de que finalmente te diste cuenta de la verdad. Ahora, asegúrate de permanecer juntos. No podemos volver a pasar por todas estas tonterías,” [but I'm glad you finally realized the truth. Now make sure you stick together. We can't go through all this nonsense again].

With that said, he hugged them, and walked back to the group. The sentiment was shared; it had taken Grif and Simmons so long to get to this point, and now everybody just wanted them to be able to enjoy it. Perhaps if there ever came a time when they were simply just… not in love anymore, then obviously they would separate, and the others would accept it. Everybody, but Tucker. Tucker would take it personally, and probably try to duct-tape them back together. However, this doesn’t even seem like a possibility; Grif hasn’t had a lot of luck with making a good thing last in his life, and he’s determined to make sure THIS endures. Simmons can’t picture a scenario in which he’d be able to want anybody else the way he wants Grif, and rather than make him feel trapped, this actually just gives him more confidence. Sure, they’re probably going to have problems, but that was nothing new (they certainly were no strangers to bickering or arguments). They had both seen each other at their worst, and none of it was enough to scare them away.

“Oh wait, hold on!” Tucker ran out of the room, and started to search for something in the hall closet. He came back with a camera; it was the one “good” camera they had (that wasn’t just somebody’s phone or a disposable hunk of junk). “We have to take a picture! One with just them, and then one with everybody in it! You two, kiss again! Go on!”

This time, they didn’t mess with him; Simmons and Grif kissed once more, and they could feel the vibrations in each other’s chests as they tried to suppress their laughter. A tear finally escaped from Simmons’ eye. It was just so many crazy emotions all at once; he was still tired, mildly embarrassed, a little bit proud of himself, incredibly happy, and absolutely in love. Grif was in the same situation, but was currently almost numb to everything happening… he’d start to feel almost shy, and then a wave of joy would wash all that away, and then another feeling would take over, and then another, then another… maybe later, when he could process all of it, he’d start crying too.

“OK, now everybody get over there by the couch!” Tucker started directing them, with most of the Reds coming around to sit on the couch with Grif and Simmons, plus Kai snuggling up to her brother. As everybody leaned in close, Tucker set the timer on the camera, and then placed it on the island countertop in the kitchen; it had a clear view into the living room. Tucker rushed over, hopping up to sit on the back of the couch, right between the love-birds. He almost ruined it, nearly slipping down too far, and then nothing but his feet would have been seen, sticking up in the air… Grif and Simmons caught him though, laughter finally erupting from them just as the camera went off.

#red vs blue #rvb #grimmons

[rattlingheart]

i finally decided to sit down and write out how i've been feeling.

Am I selfish? Am I jealous? Am I a bad person to the people I care about? Are they bad to me? I don’t understand why it’s so wrong of me to have wants. All i want is someone for myself. I want someone who would do anything for me at any time. I want to be cared for, i want to be loved and i want to be wanted and needed. Why is that so bad? I want my own person. Everyone else has their own so why cant i have one too? Every time i try to explain it i end up looking like the bad guy. Maybe my actions arent great and maybe i feel things too strong but none of that would matter if i had someone who understood. Nobody ive ever talked to knows what im going through because everyone at one point or another has had their person. They dont know what its like to think you have someone and then lose them to someone else, over and over and over again. At this point it just feels hopeless and im starting to feel like an idiot for ever thinking it could happen. I know it sounds conceited to think im the only person to ever feel this way but thats just how it feels. I want to be wanted so bad it hurts. Every day i spend alone makes me feel worse and worse. I dont know how much i can take. I want someone i can call and theyll answer right away, happy to hear me and ill be happy to hear them. I want to be able to have hours of conversation while also being comfortable with hours of silence. I want someone to think of me in a romantic way. To want to take me on dates and bring me flowers and show me how much they love me. I want to be so yearned for that it makes their stomach hurt. I want someone to be sad when they cant see me and angry when i talk to someone else. I want someone to put my picture in their wallet, or put a photo of us on their lockscreen. To be the first thing on someones mind when they wake up and the last thing before they fall asleep. In my eighteen years of life ive never come close. People say everyone has their time and everyone has their person, and i want to believe that so bad. I wish i could trick myself into being okay by myself and to just accept that my time wil come and that someone will love me but i just cant. Do you know how pathetic that feels? To know you have the potential to love and be loved but to never feel it? To just be fooled over and over to the point of not knowing what it feels like to have a crush anymore, not knowing if they actually want to get to know me or if they just need enough of my interests to get into my bed. I would love for someone to want to know me.

I want someone to know everything about me oh my god. I want to tell them everything about me and they tell me everything about them. I want to know someones deepest secrets and for them to know mine. I want to not be judged for the way i act, think, and feel. I promise i wont judge you if you dont judge me. I just cant understand why this is too much to ask. I want someone to meet my parents and my friends. I want to be a part of someone else's family and theyre a part of mine. I want to be thought of when holidays come around, and for them to know my birthday. I want them to ask if im coming over for dinner or if youre coming to mine. I want to be seen as a pair, if one of us is there then so is the other. It doesnt have to last forever, im not asking for a marriage partner, just a taste. I just want to dip my toes into the pool of love, i dont have to swim in it. Eventually i want to meet someone that just pulls me in with them and drowns me. I want to be smothered with love until it makes me sick. It would feel so much better than being alone. I cant even imagine how it would feel to be introduced as a girlfriend. For someone to show their family and friends my picture and to be excited about it. I hate begging for things but please. Its all ive ever wanted and yet its making me into a monster. I dont feel like myself anymore, i feel like a shell. It feels like my heart is just rattling around in my body making noise for someone to hear her. The butterfly in my stomach is dying, she hasn't fluttered in so long. I want her to be happy again, for me to just think of someone and she does somersaults around my stomach. I want to be nervous to go on a first date, maybe even a second or a third. I want to have a kiss at the end of the date like how it happens in the movies. I want someone to bring me home and want to see me again. I want to be a girlfriend, i cant wait until the day someone asks me. I think ill die right there in that moment. I want to say i love you. I want someone to say they love me every time they see me, every time they leave my presence and every time they enter it. I want people to know that im loved, and to know that i love the person loving me. I want to love someone so hard that just the thought of not having them in my life makes me sick. I want it to make me cry and i want them to comfort me and say it will never happen. I want them to lie to me. So that when the day eventually comes and they tell me they no longer love me I can have faith that ill find someone else to love me. I want to have a breakup that hurts me so bad i cant leave my bed and i stop talking to people for weeks. I want to lay in my bed and rot away just reminiscing over the way they loved me for so long. I want to know the feeling of having my heart ripped out of my chest and taken from me. I want to know the feeling of growing a new heart for someone else. And for that person to nurse me back to health, back to my original self. I know its strange to want heart break but as someone whos never experienced it, i want to know what its like. I want to experience every aspect of a relationship. I want to fight and argue. I want to apologize and make amends because we both know it isnt worth it to be mad at each other. I want someone to tell me that theyre sorry, and that theyll never yell at me again. I want someone to run their fingers through my hair as i lay my head in their lap. I want someone to hold me, hold my hand, hold my body, hold my heart. I want to put my legs on someones lap and for them to rub my legs just to know theyre there. I want to have someone to grab in a crowded room, to hold my hand so i dont get lost.

I want someone on the same level as me and i pray they never leave me behind. I just want to be loved and cared for the same as everyone else in my life. I want to feel like an equal to the people around me and not like an alien. Ive spent years building myself up for other people to notice me. Ive been noticed, but no one has cared enough to stay. It makes me feel so awful. Ive learned to keep things to myself, to not overshare. I try to go after what i want but it always ends badly, i always end up looking desperate. People use desperate in a bad way but i cant help but think, is that not what i am? I am desperate. I am so unbelievably desperate for someone to want me. I cant sit with my own thoughts or it starts to make me physically and mentally ill. I need someone to share them with. I need someone to talk to. I need somebody to be there for me. I need my own person. Someone i dont have to share and someone who will always be there when i need them. Someone who will know i need them before i even realize it. I think if i had someone to pour my thoughts onto and pour all of the love inside of me, id be doing a lot better. Im just scared that what if i find my person but they dont want me in my current state? What if im too much to handle and too much to take care of. I guess theyre not my person then. When i finally do find my person, someone just for me, they will love me for who i am, what i am, and they will see the good in me. Is that too much to ask?

#love #long reads #relationship #vent

[haeaster16]

Valentine’s Day…

…sucks. It always has. I’ve never liked it. Growing up it was because nothing romantic ever happened for me on Valentine’s Day—which is still true despite the two boyfriends I’ve had through a Valentine’s Day—but now…

It isn’t so much the holiday itself that I’ve always despised. It’s that it has never failed to be a complete and utter disappointment.

But this Valentine’s Day is the worst of them all.

Does it have something to do with the fact that the boy I dated for a whole year—the one I was sure I would marry—broke up with me just before Christmas? Yes. It probably does. And he gets to move on with his life. He’s fine.

And I’m here—sitting in the drive through line for my favorite coffee shop (where apparently everyone has decided to buy the love of their life a Valentine’s Day coffee), staring at the snowflakes drifting down to melt on the mucky pavement and doing my best to hold it together.

I’m decked out in hearts despite my disdain for this wretched holiday because even though I hate Valentine’s Day, I’m a hopeless romantic and therefore my favorite shape is a heart. This has lead to the purchase of a lot of clothes with hearts on them and I figure that it doesn’t hurt to wear them since they’re already hanging in my closet.

(It works as a self confidence booster too. You wouldn’t believe how many compliments a girl gets when she wears hearts on Valentine’s Day.)

I didn’t think Valentine’s Day would be this hard. I should’ve known better than that, but still…I hoped.

It’s amazing how much worse disappointment can wound you when you let yourself hope. When you can see the rest of your life with someone and you’re just so excited to see where it’ll go until the rug is pulled out from under you and you feel yourself falling…

Falling….

Falling…

I’m still falling into this black abyss of the unknown. Unsure if I’ll ever get to find the bottom. If I’ll ever regain my footing. If there’ll ever be a day that I can get away from the utter disappointment of what I was so hopeful for at this time last year. What I was hopeful for until the fall when everything started falling apart. When the ground was crumbling under me but I refused to acknowledge it because I knew. I knew it was him. I knew he was the one I wanted to do life with. The one I wanted to say “I do” to.

But I was just pulling the shades down while the world shook and fell apart around me. Until the roof caved in and I couldn’t ignore it anymore.

Until I heard the words “We aren’t supposed to be together.”

And now I’m here. With my heart breaking everyday while I try my hardest to patch it up with bandaids and scotch tape to get through the rest of the day. I keep it together and when my head hits the pillow, I’m so exhausted. It seems that the only escape from misery is the blissful nothingness of sleep. And then I wake up in the morning and paint on the “everything is fine” face that I’ve been fooling everyone with for the last month and a half.

They probably see through it but at least they have the decency to humor me. To go along with my pathetic act so that I can convince myself I’m fine. I repeat the words in my head over and over, hoping that eventually the repetition will make it true.

I don’t think I’m really fooling anyone…including myself, unfortunately.

[lithiumseven]

Don’t let yourself be fooled: immaturity, lashing out, infidelity, and any other “man” trait is not inherent to men, just inherent to losers and chauvinists. And anyone saying it’s because they’re men and not because they’re just pathetic assholes is trying to shift the blame. They want you to blame all men instead of the individual who is hurting you. Anyone who says otherwise is manipulating you, or has fallen victim to manipulation themselves

Demand better. Men, hold each other accountable and don’t let assholes get away with this shit. Everyone else, also hold these assholes accountable they don’t get to treat you like this. The problem isn’t Men it that man. You deserve better, be it in a friend romantic partner or family figure, and there are plenty of other much better individuals out there. Don’t settle for bullshit and don’t be brainwashed into hopelessness and complacency

#men #feminism #yes this is feminism it’s standing up for people wronged by assholes based on gender #tis i #men you need to hold each other accountable #and everyone else you need to hold these assholes accountable too #gender

[screamingintothevoid123456]

I sometimes feel like I’m floating between being realistic, being cynical and being a fool.

So there is this guy right? Known for a long time been crushing on him for like 5 years. Absolutely absurd I know. Told him in 2019 that I liked him, said he didn’t like me back. Whatever, disappointed, but fine. Life goes on. I felt like our story wasn’t over yet. (I liked him and was a hopeless romantic okay). We continue to still be friends. As most adult relationships do, we are adults btw despite the absolute teenage absurdity of the my feelings, we drifted apart. We talked on and off for like 2 years, but didn’t really have any significant contact. Then right before I left my home state to go to grad school out of state, he suddenly messaged me and asked me to get lunch. We went out to lunch and stayed in pretty regular contact until I moved. I would come back for school breaks and we would always meet up and get food and hang out. We were seeing each other every break for 2 years of my 3 of grad school. Thanksgiving, Winter, Spring, Summer. When I went to grad school I was determined that I was going to move to DC and work in the capital. Every time we had talked about what I wanted to do he would always makes comments and suggestions that I move back to my home state. Well my first year of grad school was a nightmare and I was homesick and missed my family. So summer of second year I did a lot of self-reflecting and decided I did want to go back to my home state despite its flaws. When I told him he did a fist pump and acted excited. We had this sort of weird mixed signals relationship. When I returned for summer after my second year of grad school, I texted him that I was back in home state and wanted to hang out. Usually he was quick to make plans with me as soon as I got home. He said we would plan something and then I didn’t head from him for 6 months.

This fall, in my last year of grad school, I was looking for full time employment for after graduation in home state. I applied to so many places as I was concerned that i wasn’t going to get a job. I ended up getting a response form a company, and it happened to be the company he works for. I ended up accepting an internship with the company with a potential to be hired on full time. I would be in the same office as him. I posted on LinkedIn about my new internship and he liked the post: the literal first interaction I’d had with him in months. Well it turned out that I got a better offer for internship and full time post grad and this lead to that and his company told me to go to the other company. When I arrived back from winter break, I had a package on my doorstep from his company as a welcome gift with some swag. A nice blanket and water bottle. After a lot of contemplation, at this point I assumed that he never wanted to talk to me again and wanted to end our friendship. I sent him a Snapchat of the blanket. He answered and we talked for like an hour about the whole situation. The I started sending him Snapchats that he opened but never responded to.

I was telling my friends about all of the drama and how I was acting like a crazed teenager, when one of my friends said, “invisible string theory” were two people separate and come together again over and over. Now my stupid brain is stuck on the idea that something mystical is pulling us together. That it is all going to work out and we are going to have this epic romance.

When in reality I feel like I’m delusional. I’ve had a crush on the same man for 5 years, a man who already told me he didn’t like me once. Why am I stuck here, why can’t I move on? Why am i so pathetic? I wish I could just face the reality of my situation.

#scream into the void #unrequited love #the invisible string #feeling like an idiot #feeling like a crazed teenager

[lookbutyoucanttouch]

The hopeless romantic to cynical avoidant pipeline is real.

Or course there will probably always be a tiny part of my inner child crying out for love. Salvation. A meaning behind all the torment and neglect I’ve suffered through the years between family, former friends, and past lovers.

But I won’t be made to look like a fool ever again.

Almost every example of romantic “love” I’ve seen in real life has been one sided. Usually the woman loving the man more. And even then; with all her gripes, does *she* love him? Or is she just caught up in the endless pursuit of getting him to love and respect HER? —in spite of all the times he’s shown her only breadcrumbs of compassion.

Self sacrifice in the name of finally being chosen isn’t love. It’s desperation. It’s pathetic. I’ll never allow myself to look that weak ever again.

#vent

[rexeipts]

Okay I know he hid the gun because cops were forthcoming. But like what if him putting the gun away was him telling her he trusts her. Like I’m putting it away, here’s my passcode literally right in front of you circa giving your girl your phone password vibes, here’s where I hide it in my inspector gadgetmobile, here’s both our prints on it. Cause I mean he took it from her like, “🙄 just give me the damn gun Elizabeth and chill out. We both know if I wanted you dead you’d be dead.”

#no I’m just a sap? #just a pathetic hopeless romantic fool? #okay cool cool #can they just use words #like just for one episode? #like words that have just one meaning? #beth x rio #nbc good girls #gg spoilers

[kookiecrumb]

how bout ex!jk?

he wants to explore with other people

i want oc to make him grovel when he realises she’s all he needs.

I'll do you one better.

warnings: weed, drinking, sadness/loneliness themes, strong language warning

-

In the summer, a few miles out from one of the more popular state universities, was a frathouse that was built by the brothers of Delta Chi around forty years ago.

Now, the men of Delta Chi aren't animals-- although they have done some notoriously inhuman things to its inductees over the course of the frat's history. But the golden rule is basically this: Bros before Hoes, respect your mentors, and don't make a fool out of yourself.

Whatever.

Jungkook's brother had been a member of Delta Chi when he went to school, so he kind of got dragged into it. It was kind of a way for him to make connections and just have fun after a stressful senior year of highschool.

You had broken up. He didn't break up with you, you didn't break up with him...it was by mutual decision. It was the first grown-up thing you ever had to do, leave one another behind for what the future held for you.

Besides, like Jungkook said-- "I want to explore other people."

That's a double edge sword he put in your hands and you know he's regretted it since.

His desperate attempts at fostering new love on campus are pathetic. He'd discover just how much of a hopeless romantic he is in contrast to the cultures running rampant throughout his social groups. It was night after night of great but completely empty and meaningless sex-- which was awesome for a while but after the first week it just felt draining.

At that point the natural thing is to chill, smoke some weed, work it out or sleep it off, but it really just didn't sit well with him.

"Everybody feels like that the first few times," his brothers would tell him. "Then you realize all women are just after your dick and you stop caring so much. You just worry about yourself."

Jungkook did worry about himself. At some point, he made his way back to the last text messages you sent him before you two split. He scrolled up to update the messages, as if you'd magically start typing just because he wanted you to.

He leaned over the couch and frowned. Taking notice of this, Taehyung set a drink down in front of his friend and asked: "What's good with you?"

"I don't know, man," he put his phone down on the coffee table and rubbed his hands. "Some bullshit."

"Only some, not all?" He joked.

Jungkook nodded and pursed his lips.

"Yeah, okay." Tae sighed, smiling at the black-haired boy. "Don't get too caught up in yourself, it'll drain you."

Jungkook agreed and he left. It's only been the whole summer, so what's up with this random yearning?

You, on the other hand, used the time and energy you spent on your relationship bettering yourself. You invested your time in forming healthier habits, developing healthy relationships with close friends, and having a little more fun in general. That never killed anybody.

It killed him. To be away, to be so alone, to be without you.

It wasn't like he'd deleted your number from his phone in the first place. Of course it was buried underneath spam texts from people he really did forget, conversations that don't matter. As soon as his eyes fell on the last message he had sent to you, his heart dropped.

It was a simple enough "goodbye."

A clean slice.

Deep in the night, Jungkook hugged his pillow. His eyes cracked open, his limbs tossed about the bed, he imagined you. You, who he had given up to pursue a whole lot of nothing.

That's what life is without you-- nothing. A whole lot of it.

With a grunt, he lifted himself from the bed and starts typing in that old conversation from months back, just to get everything off his chest. He had no intention of sending it, but fate is cruel and his thumb slipped. He sent it.

You were brushing your teeth after a long night out, with your phone turned screen-side-up on the sink. You spit out the toothepast and check your messages.

"I made a mistake in leaving you. I hope you feel the same. Let's have lunch tomorrow." Sent from Jungkook's iPhone.

#jungkook #jungkook x reader #jungkook ex au #jungkook drabble #jungkook ex drabble #jungkook x reader angst #jungkook x you #jungkook fluff #jungkook angst #asks #reqs

[yunopouts]

do i wanna know - l. mark [TEASER]

[1] mark lee: guitarist // do i wanna know

“WERE ART THOU, MOST LIKELY OFF GYRATING THY RUMP WITHOUT ME.”

in which in he’s a hopeless romantic that knows his feelings aren’t reciprocated

tickets: smut, a sad mark lee, ANGST, drinking, swearing, classmate!mark, smoking (cigarettes), probably won’t have a happy ending 🤷🏻‍♀️

Apart of the AM - NCT dream series

a/n: dm or reply to be in the tag list!

[23:05 pm]

“You asked if she was going to class? Doesn’t she sit in the same row as you?” a ginger haired boy cackled when the eldest nodded shamefully. As Chenle continued snickering, the blue haired boy took one long sip from his beer bottle, tilting his head back to finish the contents.

Mark felt like shrinking back into the booth while his mind replayed the incident over, and over again; it was like the tape loop cassette that Jeno had in his 70’s muscle car, that played that stupid song ‘Sister Golden Hair Surprise’ by America over, and over again. Wordlessly, Mark pushed up from the table and began his journey across the pub.

The lightweight boy stumbled across the floor towards the bar, wanting to order another beer, but sadly, he was caught.

“Woah, woah, woah-” Haechan said, grabbing Mark by the shoulders so he didn’t collapse in front of everybody. “Easy there tiger, easy there.”

“Hyuck;” Mark breathed, closing his eyes.

“Yes, Mark?”

“Let me get another beer.” the older boy’s fist kept clenching and unclenching.

“No- Mark, no.” the chestnut haired boy struggled to keep his friend in his grip, and thankfully Mark was lighter than himself- but Mark was still stronger. “No. Bad Mark.” Haechans voice was firm as he got the older one sturdy once more, holding a stern finger in front of the blue haired boy’s nose. “We’re gonna go get some air, okay?” Mark frowned but followed Haechan as they weaved their way through the crowded bar.

Once they were standing in a dim alleyway, Haechan pulled a small rectangular box out the inside of his leather jacket and took a cigarette from out of it. Lowering his head, he covered the front of the flame with his hand and lit it before looking back up to his best friend.

He was about to speak when the pair heard gravel crunch, spotting a raven haired boy with hard eyes walking towards them. Haechan tossed the paper pack to Jeno, who pulled one out too and stuck it loosely in between his lips.

“Did you just finish making out with somebody?” Haechan raised a brow, taking in his ruffled hair and semi-swollen lips.

“I forgot mine.” he mumbled, nodding towards the lighter, choosing to ignore the question.

Mark watched as his two friends got closer, trading the box for the small plastic bottle. They pulled away quickly after and faced him, one narrowing his eyes, the other one falling back onto the brick wall.

“So, you wanna explain to us whatever the hell is wrong with you? And why you made a fuckin’ fool out of yourself today?” Jeno asked, lighting up the cancer stick.

The older boy sighed again and copied Jeno in tipping backwards onto the wall, his head drooping low.

“We’re just worried about you, Mark.” the dick expression dropped from Jeno’s face, his features softening up to a look that rarely anyone ever gets to see.

“I can’t stop thinking about it.” The two on the opposite wall looked at each other, Haechans features softening up as well.

“It’s been four years-”

“You don’t think I know that?” Mark snapped, eyes shooting in Haechans direction. “You don’t think I haven’t killed myself over the fact that it’s been four years since I’ve fucked someone?”

“I can’t get hard if it’s not her, okay? I have cum in my own hand for the past four years. Do you know how pathetic that sounds? Do you know how pathetic I feel? No, you don’t, because you,” he pointed at Jeno. “You fuck someone new everyday, but you’re in love with your best friend- so that’s fine.” The raven haired boy coughed, neither one of his friends sure if it was because of the smoke or out of embarrassment.

“But you,” he pointed at the youngest, just like he’d done to him earlier. “You have a fuck buddy! Do I have a fuck buddy? No, I don’t! My hand is my fuck buddy!” Mark yelled, now waving the pointed finger in the air like a wand. “So don’t tell me ‘oh, it’s been four years, you should be over it’ because obviously, I know that.”

Haechan dropped his finished cigarette on the ground, putting it out with his foot before looking up at his best friend.

“I’m sorry;” His doll-like lips formed a line as he pursed them, thinking of what to say. “I didn’t even realize that you were still hung up on her.”

Mark's eyes slowly lifted up to meet his friends, an awkward silence settling around you.

“Okay, hurry and hug so you can make up.” Jeno urged, holding his cigarette between two fingers. “We have to go on soon.”

Trudging forward, Haechan pulled the taller boy into his arms, holding him tightly.

“You gonna be okay?” he mumbled.

“I hope so.”

The pair heard a light chuckle from beside them, pulling away to see the raven haired boy smiling softly at them.

“Come on, let’s go.” Jeno cocked his head towards the exit of the back alley, waiting for his friends to get next to him to start walking. “We have a show to do.”

i hope you liked it and you're welcome to send in your feedback because i'm always looking for ways to improve!

#mark lee #angst #nct #nct 127 #nct dream #nct u #mark smut #nshitty frathouse #mark angst

[letters-from-alex]

June 13, 2021

To the boy with green eyes,

It’s currently 12:59am and I can’t seem to get you out of my head. I’ve got a song on repeat: “You” by Regard. You made fun of me one day after picking you up from the hotel-- “You play this song a lot,” you said and laughed. “Well, I’m sorry it’s my current obsession right now!” I rebutted as I tried looking for a different song to play. But did it ever occur to you that maybe, just maybe, I am trying to speak to you through my favorite songs? And how relevant they may be to the current situation? If you are reading these letters, then perhaps you should pay a little more attention next time.

I wish I could go into detail about how amazing my night was with you yesterday and what it meant to me that you stuck around. You literally had no obligation to stay, much less had any reason to, but nonetheless, I thoroughly enjoyed your presence and I was thrilled and surprised to see you open up to some of my friends to whom you which barely greeted yourself to. “I don’t like people,” echoed through my head a lot-- worried me even, that you wouldn’t let yourself get loose and open up to a handful of strangers, but I hoped, just hoped that you’d open up for me because these were people that I care very much about, just like you. Slowly, but surely, you did. I caught you laughing and smiling way too much and that hugged my heart. 

All night you followed me like a puppy, and please take that as a compliment as I really enjoyed it. And the playful sarcastic banter that we do way too often that comes off as partly comedic, yet slightly and secretly flirtatious (at least for me it is). And the way you’d look at me with that side-eye stare, your signature move. And that smile you make when I try to compete with you. And even that moment when our friend asked “Who’s the DJ?!” Your face was priceless. A big “oops” painted across your face as you handed me the phone and picked up my arm, “It’s Alex. It’s not me!” But she saw through that guilt in your eyes and the lie in your voice. You can’t fool too many people and according to you, you are an honest person, but to what extent will you go to protect yourself? To make sure that you protect your heart from your own feelings?

You’re always reminding me of something: “Don’t let other people control your emotions.” I’ve been questioning myself ever since you said it to me for the very first time. We all have our moments, of course, when we can’t control our emotions after getting offended, for example. Just like you did when my ignorant friend said something out of line. I had never seen you so upset before, but I liked you anyway because you had valid points, valid reasons, and a passion of respect that made me fall in love with your mind than I did before.

In that moment, when you just couldn’t cool down that boiling anger deep inside you, I asked, “What is it that you’re always telling me not to do?” There was a pause. You smiled. I actually made you smile in a tough moment. You played stupid, but you knew exactly what I was talking about. I repeated myself. You laughed and said, “You say it.” 

I looked deep into your eyes and said, “Don’t let other people control your emotions.”

I could tell you breathed in a breath of fresh air and in that moment, I swear I just wanted to hug you. I don’t know why I didn’t. I should’ve, but I didn’t. Why didn’t I? You let me touch your shoulders through the night. I accidentally touched your hand. I punched your bicep. And caressed your back. You even tussled my hair as you called me short, yet feisty in Spanish. So, why couldn’t I wrap my arms around your body? I have no clue where to draw that line without getting too close to you or perhaps even pushing you away.

I felt the same way when we were lying in my bed together-- a moment that I thought would never come to fruition. I couldn’t believe you were actually sleeping... on. my. bed. And to make it worse, you were sleeping on the side I usually sleep on-- the side closest to the window.

I had accidentally woken you up after kicking a water bottle on the floor. “I’m sorry.” I whispered. “No. You’re good,” you said as you got up to use the restroom. Moments later, you walked back into my room and closed the door behind you. I don’t know why, but I had this thought in the back of my head that you were going to tell me something like, “I can sleep in the other room,” or “Could you take me back to the hotel?” But no... nothing. You just laid there, less than two feet away from me, with my dogs in between us, separated. I felt so close, yet so far from you.

You were on your phone for a moment or two. My heart began to race, much faster after you turned off your phone and got comfortable. I listened to you breathe, tried getting mine in sync with yours, but I was too nervous. I had so much on my mind. I had so much to say to you, but didn’t know how to say it or thought maybe I shouldn’t even speak my mind. I didn’t realize how much more painful it is to bottle up the heartfelt thoughts over the heartless ones until last night. 

I struggled to sleep for about half an hour. I felt you move around, I heard you scratch your face, and even turn your head around. Were you struggling to fall asleep too and if so, what was on your mind? What was keeping you awake? I wish the answer was me, but I know that won’t ever be true. Unlike me, it was you. It was you. My heart was racing because of you. My mind wouldn’t quiet because of you. I couldn’t sleep because of you. I laid there, staring at the ceiling, breathing heavily, and sighing, and thinking... just thinking.

“I have so many things to say, but I will only say them if you promise me you’ll pretend that I never did.”

You’d nod.

“And I just want you to listen. I don’t expect you to say anything because I know where we stand and I know you wont reciprocate anything I tell you or anything I feel for you.”

You’d nod.

“Okay. Now that we’ve got that cleared up... I just wanted to tell you how much I adore you. Your eyes. Your smile. Your laugh. Your voice. Your accent. Your hair. Your soft skin. Your callused hands. Your tattoos. Your defined body. Just everything about you drives me so crazy and I hate that you make me feel this kind of way only because you don’t feel the same way. Don’t get me wrong, you bring me so much joy and contentedness. You don’t know much about him, but you make me forget that this other boy with green eyes exists. You make me ever forget that my heart has ever been broken into a million pieces. I enjoy my time with you. I love being in your presence. I love breathing the same air in the same room as you. I love making you laugh and I love our playful banter because I bet you can’t be like that with just anyone, which also makes me wonder-- why me? But I guess that’s something I shouldn’t question and be something I should be grateful for and just go with the flow. But you see, I’d be lying if I said I just wanted this to stay like this-- to be friends, to be platonic. I don’t want to be platonic with you. Right now, I just want to hold you and intertwine my body with yours. I want to keep you warm throughout the night and caress your beautiful face and tussle your soft hair. I want to breathe on your neck and I want to whisper all the things I’ve never been brave enough to say.”

But I was mute the rest of the night. If only my mind was just as silent. It rushed so fast and my heart dropped each time I felt you move or showed any sign of being awake still, that I had to grab my blanket and walk to the guest room. I just couldn’t bear the pain of keeping all these unsaid feelings in while you were lying next to me-- a moment that I only dreamed about and never thought would actually happen. And I can’t help but beat myself up at the fact that something like this more than likely won’t happen again and should’ve taken advantage of the situation while I could, but I didn’t. And the most pathetic part of it all is that as I stepped out of the room, I actually hoped that you’d tell me to stay.

You’re always telling me not to let other people control my emotions, but I think it’s me who I’m scared of the most. People always say that happiness is a choice, but if that one emotion is a choice, why can’t the rest of them be? I am my worst enemy. I do these things to myself. I control my own emotions, but I’m not strong enough to let myself be happy in the moment because I know, eventually, this happiness will soon end. I get so carried away with my own feelings and everything that I want-- especially when it comes to fruition, makes me want to believe in this hopeless romantic fairytale fantasy that maybe things like this, nights like this, are meant to happen because it’s just the beginning of a beautiful love story. But then I start to come back to reality. I come back to the sudden realization that I can never have you.

Sincerely, Alex

#spilled ink #spilled thoughts #poem #poetry #prose #lgbt #lesbian #gay #gay love #lesbian love #unrequited love #i love you #i miss you #hurt #hurting #depression #heartache #poets on tumblr #writers on tumblr #writers #poets #my writing #spilled words

[bjornthorsson20]

The Broken Side of a Flaming Soul

As he walked through the school corridors, Harry Potter decided he had enough. His best friend was being completely unreasonable about this, and he couldn't stand to see him lose a chance to finally admit to himself what the whole House could already see.

The Yule Ball was just around the corner, and everyone was already running around like headless chickens trying to find a date. After being shot down by Cho Chang, Harry had recovered fast and, after making sure Ron was ok with it, he was going with Ginny. On the other hand, Ron had resigned himself to not going, not even bothering to try and find another date after his embarrassing invitation to Fleur Delacour that'd been made in a sudden stupor caused by her Veela powers.

When asked, Ron would just shrug and answer, "there isn't anyone that catches my eye, mate", forcing a chuckle in the hopes he'd drop the subject. Harry did, but he could see straight through that lie. He knew the real reason Ron wouldn't ask anyone else; he already had someone in mind.

And that someone happened to be their best friend, Hermione Granger.

Everyone that knew these two, or had witnessed their interactions all these years could already tell they were made for each other. The only problem was that they couldn't see it, apparently.

Harry first noticed in 3rd year, after that Hogsmeade trip they spent without him. They came back giggling at each other, and blushing whenever they happened to catch the other glancing in their direction. Their hands almost touched, their fingers twitching a little. From that day on, they'd keep this behaviour when they were in the common room doing homework, even around Harry. Without noticing, Ron would sit a bit closer than usual to Hermione and their elbows would end up bumping at some point, which would make their cheeks turn pink. They would continue to stare holes through their parchment before Ron would distance himself a bit, repeating the cycle until it was time to call it a night. Hermione would then rush upstairs faster than a Snitch after muttering a good night to Ron (and only Ron).

Then the Crookshanks and Scabbers fight happened, and Harry was seriously worried they would just call it quits on their friendship entirely. Thankfully, that argument was solved rather amiably, and the two resumed their awkward relationship soon after.

So, when the Yule Ball was announced, Harry thought that it would be the chance for them to finally get their feelings out in the open after a glorious romantic night. But alas, Ron was being his pigheaded self, and simply refused to ask Hermione as his date on account of his dress robes being horrible. "Why even bother going?" he'd grumble.

Harry thought that was rubbish, honestly. Why would Hermione care what Ron wore for the Ball? He knew that Hermione wasn't superficial like that, so, surely Ron had to know. There had to be some other reason he wasn't telling him about, and Harry was going to get it out of him today. And make sure Hermione heard it as well.

Harry had to suppress a grin as he thought back to his brilliant plan to get the two together at last. One day he pulled Ginny aside in the common room and asked her for a favor. She listened intently and, as he went on, the grin on her face kept growing and growing. He was glad Ron and Hermione hadn't noticed him slip away, as they were too busy with their awkward "elbow bumping" homework routine to pay him any mind.

Finally, Harry's feet had dragged him to the library entrance as he shook himself from his thoughts and went in, already knowing the table he was looking for. He made a beeline for one near the back, separated by a bookshelf from the farthest one, where he knew a certain bushy-haired witch sat everytime.

Ron was already there waiting for him, with a book opened up as he leaned an elbow on the table and rested his head on his hand. Harry was surprised to see Ron actually reading a book that didn't involve Quidditch, though he was definitely just pretending to read as he waited; Ron didn't read, that was Hermione's thing!

Harry quickly sat down as Ron finally looked up and fixed him with an unreadable expression. Harry grinned, hoping to lighten the conversation a bit before questioning his friend. Ron attempted to fake read again, but Harry wasn't going to let him avoid talking this time, so he pulled away the book.

"C'mon, mate, stop pretending to be interested in this. You're gonna talk to me." Harry took a look at the cover and snorted, "Immediate Transfiguration. Mate, you seriously expect me to believe you were willingly reading up on homework?" Ron snatched back the book and upon noticing his expression, Harry stopped laughing. Ron's face was set in a deep frown, gripping the book hard, and Harry noticed his lower lip tremble slightly before he bit it and stared a hole through the cover.

Suddenly, the air around them seemed very thick and tense, almost cold, as Harry glanced at his friend, stunned by the sudden shift in mood. That was, until Ron spoke in an unusually weak voice for him, which startled Harry.

"Yes, I was reading this book for real. Figured I could finally follow Hermione's advice and try to learn something to make myself worthwhile in class, saving McGonagall the stress and disappointment. But judging by your reaction, I guess I'm too much of a joke at this point to be smart in any way. I should've left it to Hermione. It's her thing." He spat the last two words venomously, further scaring Harry.

What happened? This didn't sound like Ron at all. Harry was seriously expecting Ron to look at him, laugh at his face and tell him he had gotten him good. But Ron kept looking at the book, and his hands had started shaking slightly.

Harry was about to break the uncomfortable silence when Ron spoke first.

"Harry, I know why you called me here, ok? So, let's get right to it so I can go back to our dorm and hide myself in there for the rest of today." His tone sounded detached, as if he had been rehearsing these lines in his head as he sat there waiting.

"Ron, I'm sor-"

"Forget it."

"No, lis-"

"Drop it." Even though Harry had said these same words to Ron when he tried apologizing to him after the First Task, the way Ron said them wasn't the firm, yet friendly, way in which Harry did. This time they were icy, as if Ron wasn't even going to accept his apology.

Deciding to just head on straight to the point, Harry asked, "Why won't you take Hermione to the Ball with you? Don't even try to say it's those dress robes, I know that's rubbish." He tried cracking a smile but his lips just kept a straight line on his face as he waited for Ron's answer. This whole thing just seemed silly now, and Harry desperately wished he could change Ron's mood somehow. This wasn't going as planned at all.

"You want the truth, then?" Ron's voice now sounded completely normal all of a sudden, as if he wasn't dreading the answer at all, something that immediately caused Harry's stomach to turn uneasily, nervous about what Ron would say.

Harry just nodded, not trusting his voice at the moment, and waited with bated breath as Ron sighed and sunk lower in his chair. He was still half expecting Ron to tell him it was the ultimate prank on him; for Fred and George to come out from under the table and join Ron in laughing at his expense.

What he heard instead made his heart sink.

"Ok, I'll give you the truth. The truth is, I'm not going to bother with something I know won't work. I won't allow myself to go to that Ball in those dreadful robes that'll make me look like a clown in front of the whole school, just so I can fool myself into thinking Hermione and I will have a great night that'll end with us declaring our love for each other. Because that won't happen, outside of my wildest dreams. I know Hermione doesn't feel the same way and I can live with that, although I'm not fucking okay with it. But who am I to say if it's okay or not? I can't be the selfish git trying to dictate who she should or shouldn't like."

He paused to look towards the ceiling as if bracing himself for the next part, before taking a deep breath and continuing.

"Hermione deserves to go to the Ball with someone that can give her a great night and a promise of something more, someone like, I don't know, Krum. Rich, famous, talented, and everything a girl wants for her future. I'll be bloody jealous, really, when I see her waltzing in with Krum or any bloke, for that matter, but that's just stupid. Being jealous of someone you aren't even dating is already low, and being jealous of someone who you don't even have a chance with is bloody pathetic. Really, who would take me? Poor, ugly, rude, vulgar, stupid, clumsy…"

Ron looked at Harry for the first time since he started speaking, and let out a mirthless chuckle at Harry's shocked expression. "I'm surprised Hermione and I are even friends; that she puts up with me when she can rattle off a list of all that's wrong with me, which just further proves I'm hopeless and I don't have a single worthwhile thing about me."

Harry was already feeling sick from everything he had heard. He tried to stop Ron from going on, but Ron just raised his hand and fixed him with a stern look, effectively silencing him, and resumed speaking.

"You are Harry Potter, enough said. I know you don't ask for the attention, but you're headed to greatness, mate. Your path has been set. Hermione is… do I even need to say it? She's brilliant, the smartest witch of her age and all that, and she's gonna rule the world one day. Even if I don't agree with how she goes about things sometimes, that whole S.P.E.W. thing shows she wants to bring a positive change to the world and she'll do that someday. Heck, even Ginny will do great one day, I just know it. Don't tell her I said that, though."

"Then there's me, honestly, can you point out a single thing you can say I'm good at? And, I don't want to hear you say things like "you're brave, you're funny, you're kind". No, I want actual talent for something." Ron stopped talking then to look quizzically at Harry, but by the time he realized he was supposed to answer, it was too late and Ron blurted out, "See? Nothing. None of the subjects here, nothing in these books, I'm not good at a single damn thing that at least 10 other wizards can't do better. I guess there's chess, but no one has ever taken that as something serious from me. It's just a game, anyway, not a career potential."

"So, I guess what I'm trying to say is, what people have been wondering all this time in the corridors is true. Why am I your friend, Harry? Why do you let me hang around you? Is it because I'm a joke, and it's funny to see me fail? Is it because you pity me, knowing no one else would have me? You can just, let me go, mate, don't let me keep dragging you down and distracting you from schoolwork. Merlin knows I can't even write in a legible enough way, so don't let yourself get dumbed down by me. One day, you're both going to realize I'm just deadweight anyway, so, just let me go. It'll make it easier for me to be alone and not have to constantly live in your shadows."

The silence that accompanied this speech would have been deafening, had Harry's ears not already been thundering with a million things in his mind that were just waiting to burst from his mouth in response to his friend. But Harry couldn't speak, he was quite literally stunned into silence by the slap that was felt by all of his friend's words.

Ron finally heaved a giant sigh before standing up, looking down to avoid Harry's gaze as he quickly muttered, "Put the book back on the shelf for me before you go, please", then promptly rushed out of the library.

Harry didn't move though, he literally couldn't. His whole body felt numb, aside from his heart, which was now clenching painfully in his chest.

Harry wondered what had happened to Ron. But there was nothing new. Ron had simply shown his vulnerable side. A side of him Harry had failed to notice before.

He heard a sob from behind the bookshelf, and a wave of guilt immediately came crashing down.

"What have you done?"

#ron weasley #harry potter #hermione granger #ginny weasley #angst #fanfiction #romione #romione fanfic #ron x hermione #multichapter #bjornthorsson20