#nothing is finalized though! im just procrastinating other shit | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

sombreboy · 4 years

Text

Please, noona ⤑ switch!jjk

✗ 18+ ✗ pairing: switch!jjk x dom!female reader ✗ genre: pwp smut ✗ word count: 1.5k ✗ warnings: profanity, blowjob, big dick, unprotected sex/creampie. (he subby but then switches at the end ok ok enjoy.) smh im jealous of koo in this one.

Hey, I heard you like subby men. @chimoona ily or something

You knew he loved it though..

He loved feeling helpless underneath, being nothing but a plaything for you.

“Just fuck me already…” Jungkook whined in annoyance, tugging at the cuffs above him that kept his wrists tightly pinned to the headboard. He watched the way your head slowly bobbed up and down on his cock, not too slow— but definitely not hard enough for his liking.

It was infuriating as fuck.

You didn’t respond, ignoring his bratty attitude by driving his cock deep down your throat, keeping his bulbous head lodged in the back of it as you stared up at him with a piercing gaze.

Nothing was more rewarding than watching him fall apart for you.

“Fuck…. Please, please…” his eyebrows were tightly knit together as he was unable to look away, cock throbbing desperately in your throat.

You didn’t move. It drove him absolutely insane.

“I can’t stand it, noona! Please move! My cock hurts…”

It hurt because you’d been edging him for so long.

You knew he loved it though..

He loved feeling helpless underneath, being nothing but a plaything for you.

You slowly ripped his length from your throat, saliva dribbling down your chin as you smiled, crawling up on top of the man to kiss him, deep and rough with tongue, swirling your wet muscle around his own. He moaned, the sound so whiny and sweet on your tongue as he squirmed underneath you, the taste of himself on your tongue only fueling his arousal.

You pull back to stare down at him with a wicked smile, tilting your head to the side as you observe his expressions.

“What do you want, little bun? Hm?” You coo softly, brushing his dark curls away from his face. He sighed quietly from your touch, bucking his hips upwards against your fleshy ass.

“I want to cum inside of you. Please. Fuck me, god please..” Jungkook threw his head back against the pillow beneath him, whining and begging for you to grant him something, anything to relieve his painful, aching desires.

‘’I’ve been so good for you, haven’t I?” He added, his doe eyes swirling with nothing but pure submission for you, a slight hint of sadness. He wanted you so bad it physically hurt his heart just thinking about not getting it.

‘’Ah, such a pretty boy when you beg, Koo.’’ You lifted yourself up from where you sat, clothed cunt hovering above where his slick cock laid on his lower abdomen, throbbing in anticipation as he watched you tug your panties to the side, exposing what he’s been craving all along. ‘’Is this what you want?’’ You wrap your fingers delicately around his heavy length, bringing the leaking, swollen head of his cock to rub it up and down your slit, gathering and spreading your juices up to your clit before using him to pleasure yourself. A quiet moan slips past your lips that has Jungkook’s entire body shuddering underneath you, the rustling sound of the chains on the handcuffs striking the room as he kept yanking his arms. He wanted to touch you so fucking bad, to show you just how good he could fuck you if he was given the power.

But it was more fun this way.

‘’Noona….’’ Jungkook’s pitch got higher as he gasped, the self control he possessed was uncanny, holding back from trying to fuck right up into your cunt. He wanted you to sink down on him when you decided to. ‘’Please, please, please…’’

Finally, fucking finally, you gave him what he wanted, slamming down your ass against his upper thighs as his entire length pushed inside of you in one swift, harsh motion. A series of curses slipped through Jungkook’s lips, his body trembling, his head snapping from one side to the other. He was a complete mess for you, your pussy was a fucking wonderland to him.

It was heaven.

‘’Ah, Kookie, you’re so big…’’ You breathed out, placing your palms on his chest for leverage as you began to grind on his cock, using him for your own pleasure. He fucking loved it.

‘’Stretching my tight cunt so well.. Does it feel good baby? Tell me.’’

‘’Yeah, s-shit, fuck..’’ Jungkook’s lower lip was swollen from biting back his moans, but to no avail. The second you started to move up and down on him without mercy, his jaw went slack, lips parting as heavy breaths and moans erupted from his throat.

‘’Yes, noona, it feels so good, keep using me until you cum, please..’’

He was such a good boy, how could you deny him when he begged so well?

You couldn’t…

‘’I will use your pretty cock, my little bun.’’ Your nails dug into the soft flesh of his chest, dragging them down to his stomach. His eyes fluttered shut, hips bucking up to meet you every single time you came down on him, the sound of your skin slapping together sinful and absolutely wonderful.

‘’Are you grateful? That I’m going to cum from using you?’’ You continued, picking up in speed, rolling your hips down. It was difficult to say much else, breathy moans emitting from your lips with every meeting thrust of his own. He was strong, well built, and you loved the desperation in his body to feel you more, deeper, faster, harder.

‘’Thank you, noona… Thank you, I love you, use me, please-- a-are you close? I can’t..’’ Jungkook’s voice broke into a sob when you clawed at his sides, fucking yourself on his cock harder. ‘’I can’t hold it mu-uch longer..’’

The wet sounds of his cock pushing into you was mesmerising, his eyes hyper fixated on how his length disappears every time your hips slam down on him. His body twitches with pleasure, the restraints leaving bruises on his wrists as he continuously jerks at them, annoyed whines turning into frustrated growls the closer he is to cumming.

‘’Y/N, let me loose, I want to fuck you so so bad, please..I promise I’ll fuck you so good.’’

You slow down, procrastinating both of your orgasms, watching his growing frustration turning into aggression. He was so riled up, and as he promised, you were sure he was going to fuck you good if you release him from the cuffs.

He’d earned it, and you craved it...

‘’Okay, bun. I’ll expect you to make me cum with your cock. Or I won’t let you loose next time.’’ You playfully taunted him, and he felt the corner of his lips tug at your words.

The very second the click of his cuffs echoed, falling from his wrists, he lunged at you with such force that you yelped. He swiftly handled your body with his strength, flipping you over to your stomach. He pulled at your hips, ass up, before shoving his cock back into you, giving you no time to prep yourself on your elbows before he started to fuck you with the utmost greed.

‘’Oh god, yes, Jungkook!’’ You moan his name, cheek pressing against the soft duvet as you allowed him to use your body this time around, body jolting forward with every thrust.

‘’Gonna c-cum, keep fucking me!’’

Jungkook initially had planned for himself to be able to hold himself from cumming until he’d made you cum first, but it was easier said than done with the absolutely sinful sounds you made, the way your body jiggled with every snap of his hips… Fuck, it was too much.

‘’Fuck, fuck, fuck, no…god, I--’’ Jungkook gasped, cursing through gritted teeth as his hips stuttered, his cum gushing into you-- so, so much, he’d been edged for so long that everything built up flushed out with his release. It was overwhelming, but your moaning spurred him to keep fucking into you through his orgasm-- ignoring the oversensitivity to the best of his ability, he wanted you to cum so badly.

‘’Please, noona, cum-- I can’t, I can’t, I fucking, ah…’’ Jungkook sobbed, gnashing his teeth together as his hips went into a frenzy, fucking into you with his still rigid length, cum sloshing inside of you with every thrust. Most of it dribbled down your thigh and pooled at the sheets, being forced out from your cunt as he fucked you.

As on cue, you hid your face in the duvet, gasping out a silent cry, tugging at the bed. You came around his cock, body tensing up and trembling, the pattern of spasms of your fleshy walls squeezing his sensitive length so hard that he cursed out a high pitched moan.

Jungkook slowed down, breath heavy and in tandem with yours slowly coming back down to normalcy. He winced when he pulled himself off of you to lay down, wrapping his arms around you in a sweaty hug. You nuzzle up against his chest, pressing a little kiss on his chin when he glanced down at you.

‘’Did I do well, noona?’’ He asked, hand mindlessly rubbing down your flushed back.

‘’You did so well, my bun.’’ You praised, looking back up at him again, reaching to brush away his overgrown fringe from his eyes.

‘’Such a good, pretty boy.’’

#fic: please noona #jungkook smut #jungkook x reader #jungkook x you #jungkook x yn #jungkook x y/n #sub jungkook #sub jjk #switch jungkook #switch jjk #bts smut #sub bts #jungkook x dom reader

1K notes · View notes

shhh-no-ones-home · 3 years

Text

atrevido matt murdock x reader

+++++++++

guess who found some motivation to finish another story?! its me!! hopefully ill have more out soon but im just procrastinating sleep at this point lol

prompts: "Hey, hey, calm down. They can't hurt you anymore." ; "It's six o'clock in the morning, you're not having vodka."

song: these things ive done by sleeping with sirens

tag list: @cynic-spirit

+++++++++

i felt a hand at my arm and jolted awake.

"GET OFF, GET OFF!!"

i yelled, my gaze going wide as i saw matt in front of me.

"hey, hey calm down. you're home, they cant hurt you anymore."

he said calmly, my breathing heavy as i sank back into the couch.

"Jesus matt."

i huffed out and he laughed.

"Satan actually."

i rolled my eyes, sending him a testing look.

"what the fuck."

i groaned, rolling off my back and sitting up as best i could. he had his arms out like he wanted to help me, steady me if i needed it. hell, i probably did.

"what happened? all i remember is getting hit and everything going dark."

he made that annoyed with himself look, staring off to the side as he weighed his words.

"i was too late. i said id be there for you and i was too late."

i shook my head frantically.

"no, no, don't do that to yourself. you got me out of there, im here safe because of you. you weren't too late."

he swallowed hard.

"if i had been there ten minutes earlier-"

"Matthew."

i said harshly.

"listen to me carefully. you saved me. i fought as hard as i could and no matter how early or late you showed up wouldn't have changed anything. the fact of the matter is that you still got me out, got me to safety, and away from those assholes."

he nodded slowly.

"youre right. im sorry. i was just so worried about you. and i feel so guilty that i wasn't there to help, that i didnt get to you in time. i- i was so worried id lost you."

i nudged him lightly.

"but ya didnt. im still right here, all annoying and shit."

i said through a soft laugh and he finally smiled.

"yeah, all annoying and shit."

he agreed.

"now, if we're done with the impromptu pity party, i am in serious need of a drink."

i said, wincing as i stood up, holding my side as i passed him still sat on the coffee table.

"y/n."

he said and i hummed.

"It's six o'clock in the morning, you're not having vodka."

i laughed, pulling the fridge door open.

"thats what you think matty."

i dragged the bottle of clear liquid off the bottom of the door.

"really?"

he asked, half annoyed and half impressed. i hummed in response, flicking the lid off and taking a long swig. it burned at first, my tongue tingling a little bit as i pulled the bottle away.

"shit. that is stronger than i remember."

he laughed at me as he stood, pacing his way to the kitchen.

"could say the same about you."

he said with a smirk and i sent him a look before setting the bottle on the counter.

"keep that compliment shit up and ill just have to kiss you about it."

"i think youre right, you might have to."

he said a little cocky, testingly. i smriked, stepping a little closer, touching his stomach lightly.

"that a challenge?"

i asked and he snorted.

"and what if it is?"

he said strongly, placing his hands at my sides. he leaned in, squeezing as he did and i hissed.

"what? what is it?"

he said worried. i shook my head, getting closer to his lips.

"its nothing, one of them kicked me in the ribs."

he stood back and i could tell he was trying to listen for it now.

"its fractured in three places, we should get you to the hospital."

he said and i rolled my eyes.

"yeah and how many times has that sentenced worked?"

he smiled, stepping back to where he had been before.

"youre right again."

i huffed a laugh and winced.

"just kiss me, then ill think about it."

he brought his hand up to my jaw, breathing me in for a moment.

"im sorry i didnt catch it before."

he whispered and i shook my head, our lips barely grazing each other.

"stop apologizing. you did nothing wrong."

i said softly and he closed his eyes, resting his forehead against mine.

"i love you."

he said, barely audible. i closed my eyes too and without a second thought my lips were on his. it was gentle at first, like we hadn't done this in a while. and though that wasn't entirely true, it felt like it because more was at stake now. i could've died and we both knew that. now it was about having each other back and safe. and with that realization the kiss got heavier, like our lives depended on it now.

i kissed him just as hungrily, scratching at his stubble lightly as he pulled me closer to his body. now it was heavy breathing, pushing me up against the wall, his shirt lifting, then my shirt lifting, but neither coming off. when he slid his hand up my side again to push up my bra i hissed again, feeling tears sting my eyes.

"shit, im sorry."

he said a little breathless, his face still very close to my own.

"its fine, just keep going."

i said, kissing the side of his mouth but he shook his head, pulling my shirt back down.

"no, we shouldnt, we need to get you to the hospital. get that looked at."

i sighed as he stepped back.

"kill joy."

i grumbled and he laughed, reaching down for my hands. i gladly obliged and he squeezed them.

"we can finish what we started when we get home. but first, x-rays."

#wattpad #x reader #335 #matt murdock #imagine #one shot #marvel #the defenders #daredevil

24 notes · View notes

perhapsthanatos · 3 years

Text

10:32 pm with yuta ♡

nct’s yuta x fem!reader (got inspired by a dream of mine & found the idea really cute)

alternate title: be the james dean to my audrey hepburn

genre: fluff. a pinch of angst. non idol au. badboy!yuta au.

word count: 1400~

playlist: chinatown by wild nothing, lover’s rock by tv girl & work this time by king gizzard and the lizard wizard.

warnings: featuring johnny (not a warning though). smoking cigarettes. cursing. lowercase intended. not proofread.

a/n: hi i was supposed to post a vampire!haechan fic but i really wasnt happy w it in general :( the plot or overall idea of the fic was really good, but i just felt as if i didnt do it justice so here we are :( but ngl, i kind of like this concept more? maybe bc i can see it more vividly? idk, i feel like my writings r getting repetitive & its getting on my nerves lmaoo this is getting long im sorry do u guys even read this part anyway? i would also like to apologize abt the amount of projecting im doing lmao ive been having some rough days & i love my sister but hate being compared to her so often so this is a way for me to rant abt it ig? also so sorry its coming out a little later bc i woke up late today (& procrastinated for the rest of it so here i am posting really late at night) & decided to go to the convenience store to get ice cream (& a ton of other bad shit pls dont do this its rlly unhealthy) for breakfast bc i can :) any who, enjoy lovelies <3

“oh my, y/n! you’ve grown up so well! just like your sister!”

“oh! i’m sorry i’ve almost mistaken you for your sister! y/n is your name, correct?”

“y/n, darling, you are looking so dashing! you really do resemble your sister, don’t you?”

“ah, you must be y/n! i’ve heard all about you and your sister from your father!”

you swear that your reddening cheeks are threatening to fall off any moment now from all the fake smiling. the hundreds of superficial compliments, the insincere flattery and the need for these people to constantly compare you to your godforsaken sister makes you feel even weaker than you are. it gets harder and harder to keep up with a big persona that isn’t at all you. as lucky as you are to live such a lavish lifestyle, you can’t help but hate how your family has to be so perfect. you hate how you have never fit in with them, even if you are so good at faking it. you hate how you have always been stuck in your sister’s shadow, constantly haunted with the reminder that you yourself aren’t good enough. you hate how you now have to entertain the rich and brainless guests at your parent’s gala because she’s gone for some stupid prodigy competition and everyone is only talking about her in front of your face. so what if she’s better the better sister? you still have the right to earn respect, right?

you’re exhausted from all the small talk. your facade gets more brittle by the second under all the pressure. your body feels as if it's gonna give out due to your brain shutting down after all that interacting. you try to keep on going with the night as it unravels itself by being the perfectly poised poster child, trying to make your parents proud. but alive yet almost completely devoid, you decide enough was enough. what if you left right now? no one would notice, would they?

after pulling up your phone discreetly to send a few text messages, you pass through lots of people dressed in gold and finery in a way that wouldn’t have you noticed right away. keep your head down and don’t you dare make eye contact with anyone. nearing the end of the room, grabbing the first glass of whatever alcohol you see and downing it in one gulp, you start walking away as quickly as possible from the ballroom. “ignorant privileged fucks,” you angrily whisper to no one in particular, setting the now empty glass on whatever surface and begin to head to the main exit where no one could spot you running away.

“and what do you think you’re doing here, miss?”

a voice interrupts you, looking up you see that it is your father’s head butler; johnny. he is dressed in a simple black suit that makes him appear taller than he is. his long brown hair is slicked back and his bowtie seems brand new. you have known the man since he started working in your household less than ten years back. you were a reckless child, often trying to find ways to sneak out, finding a way to escape from this life and he sympathized with you. after all, he could barely imagine living your life, never catching a break for yourself and always pretending to be someone you weren’t. he often helped planning when you would sneak out into the night, scheduling things like what time you should leave and what time you should be back, more specifically a time when no one would notice. he would take care of your form of transportation and have your location on at all times, just to be extra safe. as much as he wants you to have fun and have a bit of freedom, he still worries that something might happen to you. because of all this, you two have grown to have a very strong bond. you could confidently say that he is most definitely a parental figure in your life since your parents (and even your sister) are often overseas for work.

“what do you think i’m doing? you think i wanna be in a room with those half-baked bipeds? fuck no!”

“i know, i was just joking. you looked like you were about to explode in there, i wish i could help.” he laughs, pulling out his phone preparing what you might need. “so what will it be for today? the driver? we just need to pay him to keep his mouth shut. a taxi? it’s cheaper than paying the driver, but you still need to pay… not like that’s a problem for you though. maybe an uber would be good enough—“

“actually, i got myself covered. thanks.”

his jaw slightly drops and his eyebrows furrow. he looks straight at you in shock. “what do you mean you got yourself covered?”

you look down at your feet, a nervous habit. “i got myself a ride, you don’t need to help me. i’ll be back as soon as dawn comes.”

he raises his eyebrow. “who’s your ride?”

“doesn’t matter,” you glance down at your phone seeing a notification and wave a goodbye, leaving rather suddenly. “i gotta go, i’ll text you when you need to open the gates!”

“y/n! wait! who’s your ride— and she’s gone.” johnny sighs, watching as you run towards the front gates, tossing your stiletto heels away on the grass while you’re at it. he heads back inside, silently hoping you’ll be fine.

knocking the window of the old black mustang parked outside behind the big bushes, the driver rolls down his window and sends the most charming smile.

yuta in his black beanie, long blonde hair, worn out doc martens, signature leather jacket and black skinny jeans. it almost makes you laugh on how he wears the same thing almost everyday but still manages to look so good.

he is most notable for having a big bad boy reputation and you knew that he was the breath of fresh air you needed in your life. a person who can understand having the pressure of having to be or to fulfill your persona. a person you can completely be yourself around. a person who is full of warmth no matter how cold he may seem on the outside.

“get in, princess.”

and that was all you needed. you tiredly walked to the other door and sat yourself in the car. rolling his window back up, he looks at you. you are wearing a simple yet stunning black dress along with silver jewelry adorned on your neck and wrists. your makeup is perfectly done but still struggles to hide the fog in your eyes. he has the sudden urge to clear them away. he softens at the sight of you. no one is perfect, but he finds you being perfect enough without ever having to dress up.

“where to?” he asks as gently as he could. he knows that you are most vulnerable during these moments and that it is hard to finally break down your walls after a day full of stress, so he doesn’t pry immediately. all he wants to do is to keep you here, safe and away from your burdens and for you to stay comfortable with him, even if it couldn't be for long. but is that too selfish of him to ask? he hates how you hate your life and it is taking every bone in his body to not run away with you. but who is he to tell you what to do or what to change anyway? all he can do for now is try to find a way to make you genuinely smile.

“take me anywhere,” you whisper to the latter. “i just want to be as far from myself and my life as possible. miles away or the nearest convenience store, just take the long way home before dawn.”

you look down at the cup holders, spotting an open cigarette box. you tug one out of the nineteen and light it with the lighter you kept in your pocket. you lean back and close your eyes. he only admires as you bring the cigarette to your lips, exhaling a cloud of smoke afterwards. letting the radio play quietly, he starts the car and begins to drive away from the mansion. he can’t help but wonder how you (an elegant daughter) and him (a bad boy) are millions of worlds apart, but more similar than you think.

58 notes · View notes

hatsukeii · 4 years

Note

One where y/n has been obviously in love with Tsuki since they were kids and not afraid to show it, but he’s always been lowkey mean to her and thinks she’s annoying and then finally years later she decides he’s not a nice guy and let’s him know she’s fine with all that crap and then he realizes he’s falling for her and does something really sweet for her and they fall in love? 😭😭🥺👉🏻👈🏻 ty in advance. Sorry if this is too long or specific, if it is, feel free to ignore

I genuinely hope you didn’t think I would actually ignore this<33

IM SORRY IM A MASTER PROCRASTINATOR ILY ALL AND YOU ALL DESERVE AN APOLOGY FROM ME

Dear diary//Tsukishima Kei x Reader

Word Count: 1.4k+

Warnings: Cursing

Genre: Angst??? I guess???

Summary: He’s an ass, but you still love him to bits, and it’s killing you.

July 16, 2008

Dear Diary,

I got to play with Tsukki again! He had his dino with him, it was super cute! He told me his front teeth came off last night, and there’s a big hole in his teeth, but it’s okay, because he said it will grow back. I tried to hold his hand while going down the twin slides but he said it was sweaty, so next time I’ll wear gloves!

You flip through the hot pink diary, cringing at your young infatuation. Your diary entries were cringey as fuck, but they always rekindle something within you whenever you read them. You can’t even remember when you stopped writing in the book. Was it when you turned 10? Maybe 12? You don’t have a single clue.

April 30, 2011

Dear Diary,

Tsukki refused to marry me in the playground at break:(( I’ve known him for so long though, aren’t we supposed to get married? I just wanna hold his hand and hug him and give him a biiiiig kiss<33

Chuckling at the memory, you recalled the event from that entry clearly. You were seven years old only, still an immature kid. You still thought that getting married in a middle school playground was a huge milestone in life, almost as crucial as a legal marriage.

May 29, 2016

Dear Diary,

Love how Tsukki didn’t even remember my birthday:,) Must be nice getting made fun of. Half the students in my class felt my second hand embarrassment from when he completely forgot about it. God, why am I even in love with this asshole? I’m gonna have to go to school tomorrow and deal with all my classmates making fun of me for being hopeless. Brb, currently digging a hole for myself:)

Frowning at the memory, you think back to when you were twelve. He was an asshole then, still is an asshole to this day. And yet not an ounce of your unconditional love and support for him has faded. Grabbing a tissue, you wipe the remaining tears from your eyes, ignoring the dried tear stains on your cheek. Your hand slams onto the bedside table, lazily feeling for your phone. Tilting it towards your face, you sigh at the empty lock screen, accepting defeat. Flicking through the rest of the book, you are welcomed by pages and pages of white. “So that’s when I gave up on this diary...” you mutter to yourself as you lift yourself up from your bed. Heading towards your desk, you absentmindedly grab yourself a pen, notebook in hand. Slamming the diary down, you open it up to the next entry page after your last one, gently placing the tip of your pen on the first line. You grab your hair out of frustration, the ink bleeding into the thin paper. “What to do, what to do...?” You mumble, starting to form sentences in your notebook.

July 17, 2020

Dear Diary,

It’s been a while hasn’t it? Holy shit, all my entries were about Tsukki weren’t they? Jesus, of course they were. At least I was able to get it off my chest this afternoon. Telling him that I’ve been in love with him for years, that was fucking terrifying. Telling him that although I know he’s an ass, an animatronic dick complete with ballsack, that won’t stop me from falling harder, it was gut wrenching, but also relieving to a certain degree. I’m still waiting for some form of response, although I’m not sure I’m gonna get one anytime soon. I can’t decide whether telling him was the dumbest or bravest decision I’ve made. Maybe it was both. Just wait until I look back on this entry like a decade later and still cry about it lmao. Tbh he’s a genuinely nice person at heart. I know that all too well. He may be an ass most the time, and he may think I’m annoying, but despite how hard he tries to push me away, I’ll never abandon him. Jesus Christ, I sound like a yandere here, but it’s not that. It’s that I care for him a lot. Maybe even a bit too much. It’s ridiculous how absolute and utter shit a crush can make you feel.

Throwing the pen down, you flop back onto your bed, huffing into the thick blankets. You stay silent, not sure of what to think of the situation. “I’ll just deal with it all tomorrow, I’m tired of this shit.”

On the other side of the incident, Tsukishima is currently going through a mental crisis.

The blond sits at his desk, eyes unwavering, but focusing on nothing. It feels as if he hasn’t blinked in what seemed to be hours. Just hours of staring at his wall that led to nothing. Your confession plays in his head nonstop, like a broken record that refused to run out of battery.

“The thing is I like you. I’m pretty sure I always have. And I know that you’re such an asshole and all that, you won’t treat me as well as people would expect, but it’s fine. I’m fine with all that. All the dumb, stupid, careless insults you’ll throw at me, the side eyes and sneers, telling me to shut up and go away, I’m fine with it. I know you’re a good person, and that’s all that matters to me.”

“Well shit what the fuck do you want me to say?”

Maybe he shouldn’t have said that.

Maybe he should have let you down slowly.

But as he stares at his wall, the photos of the two of you framed and balanced on his floating shelves, he starts to reconsider his feelings.

The way your expression faltered then as you hastily took your bag and rushed away without a single word, the way you avoided him in the halls, the way you stopped talking to him throughout the day, it drove him crazy. He couldn’t handle the realisation that he hurt you so incredibly badly, so now all he can do is stare at his empty, blank wall. Did he know why he felt that way? No. He didn’t and still doesn’t. He’s Tsukishima fucking Kei, the emotionless, provoking, unlikeable king, yet a mere girl is somehow able to mess with his mind so badly, that all he can do is wallow in regret and confusion? What is this weird feeling? His throat itches, his heart is beating like crazy, sweat starting to gather around his temples. He clamps his two hands together, slamming his forehead onto them and squeezing his eyes shut.

How could I have been so dense?

How was he unable to see that you were absolutely in love with him? Even with the bento boxes, birthday gifts, constant compliments, he still only ever thought you liked him as a friend. However he never did. He likes you more than that. Way more. Yes, he thought, and still thinks you can be annoying at times, especially when you nag at him about not eating enough or being rude, but it was undeniable that there was something else he felt. But his stupid ass shitty ego would never let him admit it. And now that you finally confessed, he freaked out and fucked up. Even then, he didn’t think it would affect him to this extent.

“It was a stupid middle school crush, I’m over you (Y/N).”

He says that over and over again, desperate to cloud out the disagreeing thoughts in his head that scream otherwise.

“It was a stupid middle school crush, I’m over you.”

The guilt didn’t go away.

In fact, now that he’s said all that, he feels even worse. Oh how much he wants to find you right this second, wrap you in his arms, tell you how incredibly sorry he is, but he can’t. He doesn’t deserve to do that. His heart is begging for him to just get out of the house and run to yours as fast as he could, but his body won’t move. He wants to cry. Scream. Shout. Throw something. Shatter something. But most of all, he wants to get another chance.

Picking up his phone, he hesitates, before typing in your contact, the cleared out, empty chatroom showing up on his screen. Going as fast as his fingers could, he typed out the one sentence he’s been dying to let out.

“It was a middle school crush, but I’m still into you. I always have been.”

Is it just me, or is this bad-

Idk man it seems like all my fics are pretty much the same and I hate it😌

Tags:

@sunshines-and-tatertots @izzyphantomgamer @justachillgirl @trashcanweeb @just-another-bored-writer @poppirocks @majorfangirl37 @kaylacinderella @random-fandomlover @tiger1719 @tiredgr3mlin @itmekisuu @skyeackermans @talks-a-lot-of-stuff @shoutsukii @agentvicinity @sakusasgarbage @kuroo-thought-of-a-better-un @sneezefiction @bokutokoutarou @thirstyvolleyballhoe @iwaixiumi @iwaigroomi @inlwlevi

Feel free to comment or pm to be added to taglist!

I’m back to writing lmao I’m bored in two week quarantine rn

Edit: cue me realising I was half asleep and missed something in the request don’t be surprised if I repost this💀💀💀💀

Btw the hq manga just ended time to cry

💕💕💕💕

299 notes · View notes

sxfterhearts · 3 years

Text

42. [7:35 pm]

➳ pairing: youngjae x reader ft. amateur chef!jaebeom

➳ genre/warnings: fluff, just fluff, mildly suggestive towards the end (I haven’t written in ages so I guess that’s also a warning??)

➳ word count: 1,190 words

➳ summary: “Is this okay?”

➳ author's note: see below!!

“Speak up, hyung!” Youngjae breathed heavily into the microphone of his earphones. “I can’t hear anything you’re saying!”

“Young– Give me a sec,” He heard Jaebeom draw a deep breath before bellowing out an ear-piercing “Keep it down, Bam, or I’ll whoop your ass!”

Youngjae flinched, his sweaty palm nearly losing its grip on the rubber spatula.

It was an early Friday night in. He had purposely rushed back to your shared apartment the moment the clock hands struck five. Not that this wasn’t a regular occurrence, but he wanted to be extra early tonight in order to execute his plan. Youngjae thought of the perfect way to spend your first Friday after starting a new job at a well-known company in the city. Your boyfriend, being the attentive and caring person he was, intended to treat you to a bubble bath while he prepared a wholesome three course meal for you. Or at least, he was trying to.

“Sorry, Bambam’s just… being Bambam. You know how it is. Now, where was I?” Jaebeom paused, musing over his thoughts like an old man suffering from short-term memory loss.

Youngjae grit his teeth in frustration and stress as he watched the concoction of dark chocolate chips and butter melt before his very eyes. Who would’ve thought baking brownies could’ve been this stressful? “The chocolate. I melted the chocolate chips with the butter over the stove. What’s next?”

“I’m pretty sure you have to crack the eggs into the bowl. Oh wait, no, no. You have to add the vanilla extract first. Just a tiny bit, though. We don’t want it to overpower the chocolatey taste.”

“How much? Two tablespoons?”

“Are you crazy? This is a chocolate brownie, not a vanilla cupcake. A teaspoon should be fine, I think. Or was it a quarter? Shit…”

The man closed his eyes to contain his anger and heaved a large sigh. “If you just wrote down the recipe we wouldn’t be in this position, hyung…”

The elder completely dismissed his comment. “Try a teaspoon. I’m like, ninety-nine percent sure I’m right.”

Youngjae had no other choice but to oblige. After all, everyone knew, including you and the boys, that he could not bake to save his life.

And yet, here he was, trying his hands at baking your favourite dessert – brownies. He even bought the premium vanilla ice cream that you liked to quenelle on top of it later (thankfully it was on sale). Youngjae really wanted to pamper you tonight.

“It’s not that difficult, right, Youngjae? This recipe is foolproof. My cousin tried it last month and he’s only twelve.”

Youngjae wasn’t too sure about that. Sceptical, he cracked three room-temperature eggs into the gooey, fragrant chocolate mixture. “Won’t the eggs cook in the chocolate ‘cos it’s boiling hot?”

Silence.

“Hyung?”

“Listen, Youngjae, I’m not a baking god. I don’t know the answer to every single question you have. Just do as I say and pray really hard that your brownies will turn out well.” Jaebeom snapped. “Have you mixed the eggs? You have to make sure the mixture is incorporated well and as shiny as Jackson’s forehead on a hot day.”

A commotion broke out on the other end of the line. Youngjae assumed it was due to Jaebeom’s offhanded comment about the state of Jackson’s skin.

“The last thing you have to do is just mix in the flour and cocoa powder, then you can pour it into the baking pan. It has to be a square one, nine by nine inches and lined with baking paper. Oh, and you need to grease the bottom of the pan first.”

Youngjae’s mouth hung open in disbelief. “You could’ve told me this earlier! I don’t– What is nine by nine inches? Why are you even using inches, we’re in Korea!” He huffed exasperatedly.

“Twenty-three centimetres, you doofus. Find one, hurry! Otherwise the mixture will harden.”

After rummaging through your stash of baking supplies for a good five minutes, he finally found the all-important baking pan. With Jaebeom’s uniquely reassuring words, Youngjae eventually managed to pour the batter in and placed the pan into the oven with trembling hands. The boy was nervous – he just wanted everything to be perfect tonight.

Somewhere between the fifteen-minute mark and an endless string of ridiculously cute puppy videos, the door’s keypad beeped. Standing up straight, Youngjae pulled off his chocolate-stained apron and jogged towards the door in anticipation.

“Youngjae, guess what! Oh,” You paused mid-sentence, your head poking curiously into the apartment as the brownie’s fragrant aroma tickled your senses. “What smells so good? Did you bake?”

“Hey baby!” Youngjae greeted like his usual bright self, your previous bursts of stress long forgotten. He reached for your handbag and laptop bag, gently ushering you into the comforts of your home. “I did. You’re in for a relaxing night, my darling. I’ve already ran you a bath, and you can use one of your sparkly pink bath bombs.” You couldn’t take off your shoes fast enough the moment you heard the word ‘relax’.

Your mouth fell slightly agape as you held Youngjae’s buttery hands in yours, eyes filled to the brim with fascination and gratitude. “You did?”

“Yes, baby. Go! Take off your clothes and get soaking. Dinner will be ready in another half an hour.” Youngjae guided you towards the ensuite, where he ran the waters and tested the temperature just moments earlier.

You gladly welcomed his suggestion. After all, the best way to unwind after a long day of work was to soak in glittery rose-scented water and allow the knots upon knots of worries to melt away.

Your mind solely focussed on the motions of shucking off your pencil skirt and unbuttoning your blouse once you released the bath bomb. The sweet aroma overtook your senses and overpowered your stress.

A sigh involuntarily left your lips as you sank into the warm, perfumed water. Picking up the book Youngjae thoughtfully left on the edge of the bathtub, you repositioned yourself into a comfortable position. The distant humming coming from Youngjae in the kitchen, the gentle sloshing of water as you flipped the pages and the wonderful feeling of soaking your sore muscles… Nothing could get better than this.

Youngjae appeared twenty pages later to feed you a slice of his freshly baked brownies. Crouching down by your side, he inspected your facial features for any reaction with complete earnest.

“I hope that it’s okay. Is this okay?” He breathed.

“It’s more than okay, it’s everything that I need…” You paused, tongue running repeatedly over the edges of your lips in search of brownie remnants. “What did you put in these brownies, babe?”

“I… Is it… Bad? Does it taste funny? I–”

“No, not at all!” You giggled. “It’s so, so, so good! I could eat this for breakfast, lunch and dinner. Speaking of dinner…”

“The entrée is still cooking on the stove.” Youngjae admitted sheepishly.

“Hmm… That’s a shame. I’m hungry for a different type of dinner.”

“Wh… What do you mean?”

“I meant, I’d love to have you for dinner. Come, join me.”

➳ author's note: woah ok!! I started this towards the end of my last internship and finally mustered up the courage, strength, mental capacity etc etc to finish it off. I’m sorry if its lacklustre (which im sure it is) but just really really wanted to post this!!! (im busting with excitement omgomg) I’ve been busy with internships and having existential crises and also (ngl) procrastinated with my writing and this blog which is why I’ve been sosososoo absent. I don’t want to make empty promises but yeah, I hope to get back into tumblr again! Honestly was in such a good headspace when I was active on here, I miss it sm, I miss interacting with you guys omg okay I will stop rambling. Good night I love you ALL!!!

40 notes · View notes

tsunonotarou · 3 years

Note

**this start is basically just your Ly slowly losing it over Idia**

There are times where I question whether or not spending all my gems over GM Idia was a good idea or not— then I see you cry over FG Leona (I'm sorry for your loss) and I suck it up and become very grateful. Plus, I'm still not over that illustration!!!! — I don't think I'll ever be HXYCHFUVFDHFYCG

Help, I started adoring ignihyde because of how attached I am of Ortho, then I saw how Idia cherishes his brother so much and how he's willing to do almost everything for him and I just—😭😭😭 As someone who also does and feels the same way, I immediately became attached. Anyways, here I am now, crying over the Shroud brothers and maybe possibly highly likely internally screaming over Idia AGSYFUDRHB (as I was typing this the image of him in his STYX uniform just flashed in my mind and now—)

**end of whatever that was hfyxjsfjjfdc**

Great to hear that you've finished that report! Even if you procrastinated til the last minute, at least it's done, no? Now, togther, let's try to do better in managing our activities and try to avoid doing the same mistake again. Don't worry about being that awkward person when it comes to taking care of their s/o, because same. So!! This can be the start of us learning how to care for one another 😌😌😌

And I'm also very happy to inform you that I'm doing even better than last time! I think I'm finally getting used to things and I'm now able to properly manage my time as opposed to before (err, I actually did nothing productive this entire day because I convinced myself that this is my "break," hoping it wouldn't backfire). Hopefully things will go your way as well! I will personally have a chat with life and demand they let you be relaxed if I could because you deserve it 😤😤❤️

KAVDJWVAIVSID I'M ALWAYS SO VERY HAPPY WHEN I HEAR FROM YOU!! (no matter what it is, just seeing you on my dashboard makes me feel happy!! Like?? That's Sem! And she's cool and awesome and I get to call her my beloved! who's Idia Shroud anyway? ew /j)

😭😭❤️ I no longer remember where I was originally going with this ask and it's become quite lengthy so I'll just end it before it starts to lose even more sense. Please accept this final kiss to thee ( ˘ ³˘)♡♡♡

-Ly <3

M-My Ly 😳 THE COMMENT ABOUT YOU LOSING IT OVER IDIA COMPLETELY FLEW OVER MY HEAD NOW IM JUST GONNA THINK ABOUT MY LY FOR THE REST OF LIFE BYE

What’s done is already done so don��t dwell on that my love 😌 GM IDIA IS DEFINITELY WORTH IT YES TAKE MY INCIDENT WITH FG LEONA AS A REMINDER TO NEVER EVER LET GO OF AN OPPORTUNITY (not that I ever had one, mf I hadn’t even met twst back then why do they have to release FG so early 💔)

“(I’m sorry for your loss)” MADE ME CRACK UP PLEASEKSUDGWMCLSKFKWF THAT WAS SO FUNNY FOR NO REASON 😭😭

GM Idia card was really on another level…now imagine his dorm SSR 😳

Yup, the Shroud brothers’ bond would really make the most heartless bitch go (´༎ຶོρ༎ຶོ`) THAT STYX UNIFORM WAS THE SHIT IDK WHY PEOPLE ARE SAYING ITS UGLY MAYBE ITS MY TASTE BUT HE LOOKS GOOD IDC IDC AND HIM BEING ALL PROFESSIONAL AND SHIT GRRRR TAKING OVER FAMILY TINGZ GRRRRRR BARK BARK

Ly would do almost everything for a person? That made me love you more you’re so kind and sweet 🥺 but make sure you’re looking after yourself as well okay~? I know that’s my job, but you still gotta do it yourself in case I’m not there 😌

**I would love to hear more about your screaming and rotting so don’t hesitate to jump into my inbox okie hehehe**

Yup, I’ve finally finished it!! There’s still some fixing needed to be done after it was checked though so 💔 but yes let’s grow old together and learn to manage life a little better <3 we can help each other out <3

AAAA IM SO HAPPY TO HEAR THAT!!! This was answered so late I’m so sorry ಥ_ಥ but I’m really glad that you took the day off to have a break! Rest is very much needed and just as important as other tasks!

Aaa but since this was answered late </3 I’m wondering if you’re still doing okay? I hope you are! I haven’t heard from you after answering your most recently sent asks so…I’m getting a little worried tbh ಥ_ಥ

I’m doing fine! Thank you so much 😳 I too, shall personally have a chat with life if it ever made it too harsh for you 😤 nobody messes with my Ly 😡🔪

I FEEL THE SAME LOVE WHENEVER I SEE YOUR ASK I ALWAYS GET GIDDY AND HAPPY BECAUSE I LOVE SEEING YOU TALK AND HOW YOURE DOING ETC ETC I JUST LOVE YOU IN GENERAL EXCUSE ME FOR BEING TOO MUCH

I’m far from cool and awesome I’m just a simp for a person named Ly ʅ（◞‿◟）ʃ YES YOU GET TO CALL MY YOUR BELOVED PLEASE NEVER STOP CALLING ME THAT I LOVE YOU ARF WHO’S LEONA KINGSCHOLAR ANYWAY

No worries, bby <3 I genuinely don’t mind if your ask doesn’t have a specific reason, I could listen to you talk all day! And I’d still have hearts in my eyes because I adore you so so much <3 you can send me 4k long rambles and I’d still listen with all ears 😚 kisses accepted! Sending them back~

#garden tour #❀ – Ly

5 notes · View notes

unravelling-the-world · 3 years

Text

ok hiiii i havent rly talked bc what am i meant to say when ososan is over so idk just a random thought bc im finally playing the world ends with you after procrastinating it for abt ten years 😳😳 [storytime : ok so in this drawing app i used called spraycan (i used it around 2009-2015?) i once saw one of the top ten popular artists (emi) draw fanart of neku(the protag) and i thought it was sooooo cool (all of emi's art was super cool, and now i know it was mostly fanart but at age 10 i didnt know so whenever she posted id go :Oooo not just w her tho ok i was obsessed w this app sorry thing is in the comment section someone said it was fanart of a game and i was like WHATTTT and i saie obviously "i gotta play it wtf!!!" then looked it up and said yeah ill play it soon! then i forgot about it for years lmao] ok anyways back to the story thing is i wonder if i would have been as obsessed/hooked as i am now if i had played it back then? bc honestly most of the things i liked at 10 were casual or seem kinda cringe to me now? bc i know if i'd played it in 2014 i'd still be a big fan bc 2014 was THE year ok but i KNOW i saw that post before 2014 bc i never got to draw tokyo ghoul on that app so yeah! And like these years feel like (2014-2015) 2: electric boogaloo bc back then i was going through some shit and found comfort in media and now once again im Going through some shit and finding comfort in media (i have like 4 brainrots at once) but also i wonder how it would've been bc rn whenever i open my ds i end up playing for like 3 hours straight bc i can't stop but i can't always play ALL day bc i have other matters to attend to and i also have other games/hobbies i have to do and i rly have to study, but back when i was 10 i literally never studied AT ALL and i wouldn't really play anything that needed "daily farming/maintenance" as a hobby so HMMMMM pros and cons idk well im playing it now though. but i just wonder. how would it have been if i had played it at age 10/11? But maybe i'd still like it also bc i still like vocaloid HMMMM Big Thoughts......also i rly like it i think its gonna mark my life in unchangeable ways bc sometimes i think nothing can change my life like the stuff i got into pre 2016 but i only watched eva in 2019 and its core part of my personality now so yeah

#hinatalks

7 notes · View notes

suupernovalight · 3 years

Text

Addictive Drug

Ushijima W. x Reader

Masterlist || Previous || Next

6) A Short Cut

Currently you were outside looking at the view of the whole city. The breeze felt nice going through your hair. While admiring it, you heard the door behind you open. It was then followed by footsteps.

“I thought Ms. Everdeen said not to procrastinate” Ushijima said standing right by you.

You looked away from the city and at Ushijima. “Well after thinking about it, if there are actually trucks going around delivering these drugs, they won’t be going during the daytime.”

Before Ushijima could say anything, you continued.

“Aren’t they illegal drugs? If so, going in the daytime will increase their chances of getting caught.” You said smiling a bit.

“I would have to agree with you” Tendo said walking through the door and standing next to Ushijima. “You got a pretty good point”

“It’s not a new thing to know...” You mumbled.

Ushijima and Tendo titled their heads at what you just said. You noticed this and quickly backed away.

“I mean like shouldn’t everyone know this?” You laughed awkwardly.

Tendo nodded, so did Ushijima. After a long pause of no one talking, you broke it with a sigh.

“Ill be going to my apartment. The boss gave me my key” You said walking towards the door. “How bout we start this mission at around 5:00 pm?”

“Great idea” Tendo said giving you a thumbs up.

You smiled a bit then walked away from the two boys.

5:00 Pm

You and the boys were just getting ready for the mission to start. All three of you just got your equipment for the mission. You guys had a gun, ear pieces, and a few tracking devices.

“Hey Ms. Everdeen is still here.” You then looked away from the boys. “Are her and the boss like a thing?”

Ushijima nodded his head no. “I think they are just close friends”

“They kind of look good together” Tendo cut in.

The sound of heel’s clicking were heard from the other side of the whole room. You and the boys looked up in a bit a fear to find no other than Ms. Everdeen herself standing with an annoyed look.

“Get to business will you?” She smiled while cracking her knuckles.

“Yes Ma’am!” You and the boys quickly said jogging away from the scary lady.

When you guys got to the garage, you quickly got on your bike. That was until you were stopped by Ushijima.

“Not this shit again” You groaned. “Please Ushijima”

“I can’t let you go by yourself.” He said back.

Tendo ran in to stop any future arguing and thought of an idea.

“Well since the trucks are scattered all around Japan, we have to go our separate ways if we want good results” He said looking at Ushijima mostly.

Ushijima sighed in his defeat and was about to walk away when he suddenly stopped. He quickly turned around and put a tracking device on your bike.

“what the hell!” You said trying to take it off but it wouldn’t budge.

“Sorry but I need to know where you are somehow. At least I’m not with you” Ushijima said getting into his car.

You rolled your eyes then looked at Tendo. “What car are you taking?”

Tendo snapped out of his daydream and looked at you. “Don’t worry, I have another one”

“Ah ok...” You said starting your bike. “I guess this is where we split up.”

Tendo nodded. “Bye Y/n! Be safe”

You smirked and looked at the garage door. “They don’t call me the most dangerous woman in Japan for nothing” You then left with a zoom.

On The Highway

It’s been about 20 minutes now since you’ve been driving. While on the road, Ushijima was constantly talking to you over the ear pieces asking if you were still there. He has trust issues you guessed.

You knew this drive to no where was going to take awhile so you decided to stop and get yourself some food. You stopped at a nearby convivence store to grab a snack. You decided to get yourself some chips and pocky’s.

When you got out of the store, you took a short break to eat your food and just chill. Your break was cut short because Ushijima said he knew where you were. That made you quickly get up and drive away from the store.

2 Hour’s Later

Now it’s been 2 long hours since you’ve left the agency. So far no truck has been found. That is about to change. You were in another city, probably somewhat far away from the agency.

When stopping for a stop light, you saw a truck at the corner of your eye. It was speeding too which made it more suspicious. When taking a closer look at it, you knew it was what the boss discribed.

“Black truck with green splatters...” you repeated. You kept your eye on the truck and speeded towards it to catch up.

While catching up with the truck, you tried to get ahold of the boys.

“I found it!” You said into the ear piece.

No answer.

“Guys? Hello?” You said trying to get ahold of them.

Still no answer. That was until you heard a break out voice of what it seemed to be Tendo and Ushijima. You could only make out the words “Where” and “Y/n?”.

You were in a dead spot. The truck was speeding up more and you were being left behind. Being an assassin all across Japan has its perks though. You looked around and recognized where you were driving. You knew there were short cuts near by that can help you get closer to the truck and not lose it. That’s exactly what you did.

“Dear lord please don’t let this be a fail” You whispered while going another way towards the truck.

You passed by many apartments that were to close to each other. You also passed by many drunk guys and a bar. While driving, you dodged many things that could have got you into an accident.

Now you were in an alleyway. The darkness of it made you feel unsure but you had to toss those feelings aside. You were just about to get out of the alleyway. It’s a hit or miss at this moment. Just as your motorcycle got out of the alley, the truck zoomed passed you. Perfect shot. Now you were directly behind it, trying to hide from the drivers view.

10 Minutes Later

You never knew driving for awhile would make you so bored. Driving was your favorite thing to do actually. After following the truck for what seemed like forever, it finally pulled up to somewhere you didn’t know. There were rows of torn up apartments. It looked like a whole place where criminals hide at.

Nobody was outside except occasional rats scattering around. The truck was slowing down and soon stopped in front of a certain apartment. You quickly drove your bike behind a wall and got off it without a sound. You creeped out of the wall to see the truck driver getting out with a package.

This was your chance to put a tracking device on the truck. Quickly you ran to the truck and placed a tracker just in the nick of time. As you heard the footsteps of the driver coming back, you had to hold in your breath so your breathing wasn’t heard.

Everything was going well until you accidently stepped on a lingering beer can. You heard the driver groan and walk towards where you were hiding. You were dead. You looked around to find where to hide.

“Who goes there?” The driver said.

After a moment of silence, he shrugged it off and went back into his truck. Driving away as soon as possible. Where did you hide? Under the whole truck. The truck was gone but the lingering smell of gas stayed.

You put the tracker on the truck but now what. It was already long gone and you couldn’t catch up to it. You looked at where the driver went to go drop off that suspicious package. That made you have a surge of curiosity.

“Curiosity killed the cat” You mumbled while getting out your gun and walking towards the apartment.

Before you would break in for the package though, you tried talking to your ear piece one more time, knowing damn well you were in a dead spot.

“Guys... Im going off of the bosses plan” You said.

You then took a breath and kicked the door open. Inside you saw the guy just opening the package. You quickly pointed your gun at him.

“Keep your hands away from that package unless you want to fucking die” You said cocking your gun.

The guy slowly put his hands up showing he had nothing. Before you could pin him down though he grabbed out his own guy and shot at you. Barely missing, you ran towards him and put him in a choke hold, making him lose the grasp of the gun.

“you chose the wrong choice” You said holding him tighter.

The guy coughed and tried choking you back but it failed and he was about to pass out.

“Where did you get this package” You said loosening your grip a tad.

The guy coughed. “Why would I tell y-”

He was then cut off by you choking him harder. The guy coughed for air but he never got it.

“Hayashi!” He choked out.

“Fucking knew it” You mumbled. You then let go of the guy and knocked him out cold. He fell to the ground with saliva dripping out of his mouth. You then looked at the package and grabbed it.

“Ill be back at the agency...” You said walking out of the apartment door. Before you left though, you turned back at the guy.

“Sweet dreams”

You then shut the door and walked towards your bike.

Taglist:

@toaster-stick @ashydoesdumbstuff

#anime #fanfic #fanfiction #haikyuu!!#anime aesthetic #Ushijima #wakatoshi #Ushijima x you #Ushijima x y/n #Ushijima x reader #Ushijima Wakatoshi #haikyuu #assassin

9 notes · View notes

apenapaperandadoofus · 4 years

Note

Could you do a list of the RFA bad traits.🤧👌

Sure! This is just my opinion BTW!

I’m sorry if I said something wrong ;;; I mostly said more about my thoughts, and I hope you don’t take them too personally! You may have a different take than mine, and I’d be more than happy to hear it if you of course, say it in a friendly manner!

And if you have to add anything feel free to do so!

Also remember that if the mystic messenger characters were absolutely perfect, they wouldn’t be as interesting! Everyone has their good traits and bad traits! I say this because there may be some people that get a bit mad, but it’s just like a little disclaimer!

Take everything I say with a grain of salt!

RFA’s bad traits:

Zen:

For me I sometimes dislike his narcissism. I know, I know, it’s who Zen is and everything, and it’s a sort of coping mechanism, but it still throws me off a bit! I also dislike how he judges people because of his brother, like Jumin. I mean Jumin is actually a sweetheart, and it stresses me when he’s actually trying to do something good and Zen goes and becomes mad at him for it.

He may also overwork himsel. Not as bad as Jaehee, but still. Also he smokes and drinks beer, and those are not healthy habits, I mean you do you, but it still isn’t healthy and dats no good 😔

Yoosung:

His bad trait is procrastinating lmao

But I can relate. And I know it’s a way for him to cop with Rika’s “death”.

I also dislike how he blames everything on V. Like don’t get me wrong, V is partially at fault, and he didn’t tell the RFA which he should’ve when everything went to shit. But still, when Yoosung blames V and says that there’s something fishy going on, I can’t help but feel a bit mad, since this will only make V blame himself more, and not learn to actually ask for help. Like I said, V did also do things that aren’t ok, but if someone is having some problems you can’t just go and try to turn everyone against them.

Also Yoosung is a yandere and that’s not good lmaoooo

Jaehee:

FRIENDZONING ME BITCH (IM KIDDING YOURE QUEEN)

Jaehee’s bad trait would be overworking herself and wanting to fit in with society. She forces herself to do things she doesn’t enjoy, that she doesn’t like, to try and mold herself into a perfect sculpture she things everyone wants her to be. And it hurts, because forcing yourself to do something you don’t enjoy...it sucks so much.

Jaehee should learn to take more care of herself, and like in the end of her route, do something that she enjoys doing!

Jumin:

Even though it technically is part of who he is, it’s that he can’t really get the other person’s feelings.

Let me explain.

He doesn’t think feelings matter. Whenever he starts feeling something he buries it, only making it worse. That’s also why I feel like Jumin has trouble with other people’s feelings as well. Since he doesn’t give much thought about them, I’m sure he doesn’t really think about others.

I know he is a caring friend, and that he would do anything for his close ones, but I mean with overworking Jaehee, or just telling Seven in his route to stop feeling. That’s one of his biggest flaws.

I really like his route since he ends up learning to embrace them and he also leans how to express himself more freely

Saeyoung:

Right so, this man

Oh boy where do I begin

First of all, the whole pushing away thing.

I know it hot to some of y’all, I think so too, but it still doesn’t really make it ok! Seven wants to push people away since he doesn’t want them to be in danger, or because he doesn’t really want to show his real self to them. I know that when you’re depressed and sad, it’s hard to talk to other people about it, I get it.

But still, if you see someone trying to help you don’t push them away! Or treat them bad.

Wanting to protect someone does not justify making them feel super bad about themselves!

I mean I know it’s fiction and everything, and don’t worry I’m a simp for Saeyoung too, but if it were real life I would be so mad at him. He would get his ass beatttttt (he wouldn’t, but I would not talk to him until he finally has got his shit together)

Still love him tho, when he gets better and everything! :D

I was super sad when he told Yoosung that every single thing they did together meant nothing :(

Even if you’re trying to protect him, you can’t do it by breaking his heart

Another thing I guess would be hiding his feelings, like Jumin. Just because you ignore them, doesn’t mean they’ll go away!

I guess you can also say Saeyoung procrastinates a bit, which is technically not a good thing pft.

#mystic messenger #saeyoung choi #jumin han #yoosung kim #jaehee kang #mysme zen #mysme

27 notes · View notes

vanchlo · 4 years

Text

The Assistant / Chapter Thirty-Three, “If It Kills Me”

A story about what happens when she can’t be just his assistant anymore, and he can no longer be only her boss. Now, can they be happy with being just friends?

Read this story from the beginning here! :-)

Inspo tag here!

*NEW* Spotify playlist in the works can be found here, songs that inspire me for the story and have significance in the story c:

Warnings: one brief mention of vomiting, and some mild language.

SNEAKY PEEEEEEEEEEEK

“And Becky’s face consumes my thoughts, much like it’s been captivating my conscience as of recent. Rather unsurprisingly.

There it remains for days, much like it has been. It follows me through the air as I stare out the window, floating above the clouds. It crops into my conversations, leeching any enjoyment gathered from them. I even see it in a crowd of people inside the walls of the courtroom before I deliver my closing statement. When I look a second time, I’m disappointed to find the eyes of a stranger.

I only find a respite from longing for her face when I turn my phone off, trying to stop wondering why she won’t return my texts. That thought only sticks to all of my others during the coming week with more ignored texts, craving her voice, and sufficing for browsing her Instagram. Her face. That smile. The smell that sat in the corner of her neck. I miss all of it.”

Song Inspiration: If It Kills Me by Jason Mraz (click to listen)

“It’s like before it’s gonna storm, you know? You can’t see it, but you can feel it, like this, uh electricity, you know?” - Steve Harrington, Stranger Things

The warm rays hit my cheeks as my sandals pound on the pavement. I wonder how I could ever be unhappy given the May sun shining down on me, and walking from my favorite restaurant. Without fail, the blissful idea is stolen away by a swarm of thoughts dosed in reality. And a particular one that reminds me of what I need to do, despite the dread I’ve been feeling. Not even the former respite of Asher’s hug after our shared lunch can keep them away.

Pulling my phone from my pocket, I swipe through my apps until I find the right one. Stopping in front of my gray car, I lean against the door with a huff. My thumbs hover across the screen nervously, followed by a curse under my breath. Quickly, they flit across the screen composing words in front of my eyes. Sliding into my driver seat, I stare at the screen for a moment longer before hitting send.

I wait for the chime to come, telling me I have a new message, from him. Nervousness coats my limbs and only grows worse as the minutes tick by driving home. Waiting. But when I check my phone after walking in the door, my lock screen showing my dad and I’s smiling faces is blank.

No new messages.

Sliding off my black sandals, I pad through the shared living room and kitchen area before reaching my bedroom. My laptop beckons for me across the room on my desk, and I sit down before it. I hope that maybe if I don’t procrastinate this specific thing, maybe things will turn out a little better. But as I’m opening a study guide for Family Law’s final exam, I’m proven wrong.

The chime grabs my attention immediately, making my fingers still on the keyboard. Flitting my eyes to the lavender Speck phone case, I grow antsy at wondering who the text is from. And what it says. Inhaling nervously, I pick it up and wake up the screen. The few words of a preview I see of the text cues a sour anxiousness to grow in my stomach. Bringing my knees up onto my chair, I pull them against my chest as I open the text.

Hey I’m so sorry I’ve been terrible at texting back, finals these next two weeks are getting to me. Speaking of that I realized that I have to take a final at the time we’re supposed to get lunch in a few days. I’m really sorry but can we reschedule . . . again? I was thinking in two weeks when I’m finally free from the clutches of uni????? :(

Harry

sorry cant love. im in edinburgh all that week for a case. lets talk about it when im back. good luck w finals xx

Sighing, I type up a short response, agreeing to that. With guilt casting a shadow over me, I return my attention to the lengthy study guide. The gross feeling in my stomach remains, and with its arrival, my excitement for our lunch date is replaced with disappointment. I’ve been looking forward to it for weeks since we rescheduled it the first time, due to me messing up the dates, again. Peeking my eyes at my phone, I turn away and slump against my chair.

It’s been a month since I saw him last, and although we’ve sent a handful of texts, they haven’t been enough for me. Skye, of course, told me that there’s nothing stopping me from showing up at his office door, but she’s wrong. I don’t know his schedule anymore, and for all I know, I’d be waiting around for him. Plus, my appearance would just yell ‘desperate!’ Sometimes, I wonder what little world Skye is tucked away into that’s far simpler, not realizing I still have to work during the day, especially more so this summer.

But as the days drag on with chemo and radiation appointments, and lectures upon lectures, I think maybe Skye has the right idea being so optimistic. Maybe.

Over the next few weeks, I see him at almost every corner I turn, and it hurts more than it should after all these weeks. The ignored texts shouldn’t feel like a fresh stab wound when I see that Scrabble box in the family room, get on that very same lift, or walk past the nurse’s station I found him leaning against that morning. Nothing compares to the piano and the pang I feel in my chest at the sight of it. It comes every time I walk through those doors and am reminded of the intimacy held on those keys. No, it didn’t get easier after the first time being back there with my dad, or the fifth time. Avoiding that gray sofa like the plague only reminded me of the texts I sent him that went unanswered. I can’t blame him though, because like a bitch, I took a week sometimes to reply to him.

The tight feeling in my chest only feels heavier as I sit on the plaid couch in my childhood living room. I can’t even enjoy watching FRIENDS like I used to be able to, as their faces bring forth the sound of his laugh. It pains me to turn down their voices as I dig my phone out from under the cushions. I try not to let it get to me when I, once again, find no new text messages. My attempt is futile and it only causes me to take longer to open the phone app. By now, I know his number by heart, but my shaky hands cause me to mess up a few times.

Pressing the phone to my ear, all I can hear is its ringing and the pounding of my heart. As the seconds drag on, I’m almost certain I’ll hear the voicemail next. But then I’m pleasantly surprised, although the bitterness in my stomach blossoms.

“Hullo?” His gravelly voice pulls my lips into an instant smile. Rubbing the back of my neck anxiously, the words fall from my lips hurriedly.

“Hi, Harry.”

“Hey, how’s it goin’?” he responds curtly, a clattering noise heard in the background before he mutters a ‘shit.’

“I’m sorry, did I call at a bad time?” I ask quickly, regret filling my veins.

“No, yer fine. ‘m jus’ makin’ dinna.”

“Oh um, nice. What are you cooking?” I inquire, twirling the braided silver ring on my pointer finger. Swallowing, I wait to hear his molasses drawl again, like music to my ears.

“Jus’ a stir fry. So . . . why’d ya ring?” Harry responds, a coolness hugging his voice.

“Um, I haven’t heard from you in a while and wanted to say hi.”

“Hi,” he hums awkwardly, followed by the sound of a door closing. Squeezing my eyes shut, uneasiness falls over me in a wave. Oddly, I wonder if all of a sudden I can’t call to say hi. “Ya, we’ve both been busy. Cases fer me, an’ prolly uni an’ yer dad’s treatments fer you.”

“Yeah,” I agree aloud, my chin falling to rest in my palm. But it leaves a second later to lose my fingers in my hair. “I wanted to tell you that I finished my finals last week, so now I just have clinical left in the fall. Oh, and my dad got to ring the bell today. He’s all done with chemo and radiation after his scans all looked good. It’s hard to believe that he’s cancer-free. His doctors will, of course, have to keep an eye on him in the future to make sure it doesn’t come back, but I couldn’t be happier.”

“Tha’s wonderful, love,” Harry coos into my ear, the first notes of happiness heard in his voice. It begins to put me at ease, and cause me to think maybe something isn’t off after all. “‘m really glad t’ hear that- well both o’ those things.”

Unbeknownst to me, I find myself nodding along with his words as if I needed his confirmation. But his words stop there, and the sickening feeling that something is wrong settles back in. A small ‘yeah’ stumbles off my lips as my fingers form into a fist in my lap, debating what to say next. Or if I should ask what I’ve been wanting to say the entire time.

“We weren’t able to get ahold of each other a few weeks ago to reschedule lunch. Would you still like to?” Going out on a limb, I let the words fly.

I watch for them apprehensively, uncertain if they’ll take flight. The loud sound from his side, the subsequent shuffling, and a voice saying his name shoots them down hastily.

“‘m sorry, I gotta go. ‘ll text ya ‘bout gettin’ lunch,” Harry remarks, his words stringing together swiftly. I barely have the chance to say an ‘okay’ before he abruptly hangs up, sewing together an unwanted thought for me.

Tossing my phone to the other end of the couch, I fall back against the cushions. Turning up the volume of the telly, I avert my gaze back to the make-believe world I’ve always taken comfort in. As the phone call gnaws away at my insides, planting insecurities every few steps, I let the characters whisk me away. Even if their faces and familiar jokes will now never stop reminding me of him, and something I let go of that I didn’t know I had. I only feel worse when I realize that I knew then that he’d never send that text, and I think he knew that, too.

“Staring at it isn’t going to make it ring, y’know,” somebody states, pulling me from my webs of thoughts.

Lifting my attention away from the black screen in my hand, I catch Myles looking at me impatiently.

“Wha- ‘m sorry. I was listenin’.”

“Then what’d I just say?” he requests, the hand propped against his chin rising in a silent question.

My lips fall apart to welcome my voice, but nothing comes out. Shrugging, he receives his answer and replies with a disapproving glare.

“Hare, this is important stuff. We’re leaving for Edinburgh tomorrow for the case, it’s a huge one.”

“I know, My. Jus’ repeat what ya said, please,” I huff, batting a hand at him. His eyes roll into the back of his head when he leans back in his leather chair.

“I swear to God, Harry, I-.”

“Stop,” I retort, growing annoyed.

He plays with the point of his quiffed blonde hair before clearing his throat. Although I try to listen the second time around, my gaze is lulled back to my laptop screen. My fingers itch to touch the keys and type up words, and when Myles begrudgingly answers his ringing phone, I find my chance. Sliding my silent phone into my pocket, I click on the blue thought bubble, only to be met with disappointment. Brushing it away, my fingers fly across the keys and my words are sent with a soft hum. Soon, Myles hangs up the phone with a perturbed sigh and resumes the conversation we were having. Again, I try to return to the bubble we share and the words that occupy it, but my mind is consumed with the anticipation of that coveted ding. And with Becky’s face, much like it’s been captivating my thoughts as of recent. Rather unsurprisingly.

It crowds my mind when I wait for the boarding call, tapping my fingers along the screen and watching the words be sent off. I only find a respite from longing for her face when I turn my phone off, trying to stop wondering why she won’t return my texts. That thought only sticks to all of my others during the coming week with more ignored texts, craving her voice, and sufficing for browsing her Instagram. Her face. That smile. The smell that sat in the corner of her neck. All of it. I miss all of it. It gnawed away at me slowly, and terribly, burying doubts beneath my defenses. They sprang up when I least expected them, and when I thought about sending just one more text. A few words wouldn’t hurt anything, I thought, but at the same time, I distrust the ultimate impact they could have.

The pounding jars me from my reverie, bringing me to my feet slowly. Padding past the television and kitchen area, a yawn jumps from my lips. Another pound lands on the door, dragging my brow into a knot.

“Oh, shuddup!” I exclaim in disbelief, wrapping my fingers around the smooth metal of the door. Yanking it open, I find the grinning bearded face of my mate standing on my stoop. “‘m not goin’, Rore, I already told ya this.”

“C’mon, Harry, I’ll look like a right idiot being there all alone,” Rory responds, his steps telling me he’s following me inside once I turn around. “Help a mate out here.”

“Ya, ‘coz ya were so helpful tha otha day when I asked ya t’ consult with me fer the Starkey case.” Scoffing, his words pause between his lips as I fill a glass of water from the attachment on the fridge. “Why’re ya goin’ anyways, since it sounds like sumthin’ yer dreadin’? And since when d’ya even go t’ these sorta things? Last place I thought ‘d see you at, Rore.”

“I don’t, but it’s for me sister’s showing. I can’t miss it, she’s me baby sister. I’d hear about it from me mum for weeks.”

Snorting, I have to pull the glass of water away from my lips.

“Hope ya bloody choke on that water, mate,” Rory scoffs, only making me laugh harder. Water flies from my lips as I’ve forgotten the glass on the marbled countertop. “Are ya coming or not, Harry? Ya know it’s a good place to pick up chicks, too. They blooming love these art gallery places.”

Recovering from my fit of giggles, I turn my head to find Rory waiting with the question in his eyes. He huffs and riffles a hand through his tousled blonde hair a few shades lighter than that which covers his face. Shaking his head, he wiggles his head at me.

“I’ll consult with you on the next case, or even give ya first pick,” he whines, folding his hands together under his chin, as if he’s praying.

“‘m yer bloody boss, I always get first picks,” I murmur, a smile cracking at the end of my words.

“Oh, fuck off, would you?” he spits, pushing at a chair in front of the seated bar attached to the kitchen island. Clucking his tongue, he messes with the collar of his navy blue blazer thrown over a bloody Zeppelin shirt. Yeah, you sure look artsy there, Rore. But with the next words that fly from his sailor’s mouth, he pins me down. “What’re ya gonna do here anyways, sit and watch the bleeding telly all in your lonesome when ya could be with me getting damn a date?”

Biting my lip, my house slippers come into my view and when Rory’s eyes find them, a laugh explodes from his lips. “Go hurry up and bloody change before you’re too far gone, mate. I’ll be in the car,” he titters before his voice falls with a delighted sigh. Delight found in my pain.

“Two cases, Rore. Any two cases I want, ya consult with me on. Ya got it?” I argue, following on his footsteps.

“Whatever makes ya feel better, mate. I know you'll be thanking me later tonight.”

“Doubt it,” I mutter, watching him open the door, sure there’s a sly grin covering his face.

I turn to jog up the stairs until I arrive in my bedroom. Quickly, I toss on skinny jeans, a Keith Haring shirt, and a mustard button up smattered with faded white flowers. I look rather artsy, I reckon, I decide as I look at myself in my bathroom mirror. It’s an easy feat when you’re standing next to wannabe Rory over there, though. After taming my hair and finding a pair of shoes, I pad down the stairs.

“Alexa, turn off all o’ my lights,” I announce, slipping my wallet and phone into my pocket as my hous darkens around me.

“Take fucking long enough?” Rory groans when I slide into the passenger seat of his silver Sentra.

“Shuddup and drive, will you? So we can get this ova with.”

“If you’re gonna be an ass tonight, then just go back inside,” he almost laughs, beginning to back away from the towering walls of my house.

“Talking ‘bout yerself, are ya now?” I quip, bringing my phone from my tight pockets, tapping in my passcode.

“I’ve noticed, y’know,” he mumbles, barely loud enough for me to hear him. Looking up from the bright screen, his eyes don’t stray from the road. “There’s a girl, isn’t there? Or there was?” he continues, a man I’ve come to love over the last three years he’s worked with me. And somehow I thought I had fooled him, but it turns out, I haven’t. I can’t even fool myself.

“Sumthin’ like that,” I whisper, my attention straying back to the conversation lit on my screen. Another day of the ball being in her court, and she just leaves it in the bloody corner, neglecting it. “I see why ya wanted me t’ come now . . . jus’ don’ try t’ set me up with yer bloody sista. She’s like twenty.”

His hearty chuckle fills the space around us, the words of a song from Death Cab for Cutie lurking in the background. “I won’t, but y’know she’s not gonna let ya out of her sight, mate. She’s had the hots for you from day one.”

“Oh God, Rore, what’d I let ya drag me into here?” I joke, my lips curling into a nervous smile. But the smile feels good, and it feels even better when her name disappears from my screen, and I forget my phone in my pocket.

“What happened to making me dinner?” I whine from the couch, crossing my left leg over the other under the comfort of my blanket.

“That was when you were busy, and well, the other day when I was feeling generous. Not today, missy,” Skye scoffs, the sound of the fridge shutting marking her words. Something lands in my lap with a plop, startling me.

“Wow, how gourmet. Why thank you, I definitely don’t need to make dinner now,” I joke, picking up the wrapped piece of string cheese.

“I know you’re still going to eat it. Just eat cereal or something, you hobo. I’m going to bed at a decent time, unlike somebody.”

“Hey, it’s a Friday!” I argue, pressing the page down button on the remote, waiting for something to catch my eye on Netflix.

“Yeah, and some of us still have a job on Saturdays!” she calls from her journey down the hall.

“Party pooper!”

She remains silent on the defensive line, and so does the list of boring content on the television screen. Relenting, I click over to My Stuff and press play on the next episode of FRIENDS. Relaxing into the cushions, I unwrap the cheese and slowly eat it in strings. Giggles flow from my lips watching the scene unravel in front of me, and some eye-rolls because of Ross or Monica. After a while, my legs stray to the fridge, and I return to the tan sectional with a bowl of Cheerios. The milk threatens to spill over the side when I sit up suddenly, almost yelping in laughter at the scene when Monica and Rachel lose their apartment to Chandler and Joey. The sugary Cheerios soon disappear, and the milk follows them as the episode nears the end.

Placing my bowl and spoon in the dishwasher, I hurry back to the sofa to catch a Phoebe scene. My cheeks warm with a smile, but they soon grow cold when my thoughts have to interrupt with a memory of his face. That god awfully sweet smile adorned with his cherry lips and precious dimples. Without knowing what I’m doing, the cartoon looking app appears under my nose, and pictures fill my feed. I take a second look at a few of them that catch my attention, the angry voices of Rachel and Monica tickling at my ears.

Soon, the search bar materializes and although it feels wrong, I type in letter after letter to create his name. I can’t remember the last time I glanced at his profile, just to catch a hint of him. Finding the profile I’ve become familiar with, I tap on his picture and wait for his profile to load. Glancing away, the tv captures my attention once more as I scratch at an itch on my leg. Yawning, I rub at my eye before it falls back to the blindingly bright screen. Blinking hard to clear the haze from my vision, I scroll down to see what new pictures he’s posted, although they’re usually few and far between.

I find the most recent picture I recognize and tap through them. Picturesque shots from high in the clouds. His unbelievably adorable niece. Food-grams. A picture of a homemade pizza is making my mouth water and is still stuck in my mind when I happen upon the next photo, and the most recent one. The moisture in my mouth is wicked away, suddenly bone dry when the image in front of my eyes slowly registers with me. But I can’t believe it, even though I’m seeing it. I don’t want to see it, or believe it. The moisture reappears in the corners of my eyes quickly as a sourness quickly knits together in my gut. The image shakes in my hands and then blurs in my eyes, accented by the thrashing of my heart inside of my chest.

“Skye!” I shout, the words leaping from my lips with little success.

My lip wobbles and I feel my entire face collapse from pain, disbelief, the whole shebang. The sob screaming from my lips is muffled by my fingers coming to my mouth.

“No, no, no, no, no,” I mutter, inhaling fast and feeling the tears in my throat. Because I can feel it everywhere in my body - the pain. In my eyes, my stomach, my hands, and my chest. The sight of Harry’s lips touching that of another girl’s sends knives into my heart, and my stomach roiling. “T-this can’t . . . ,” but my words escape me, because the multitudes of feelings punished with anguish and despair course through me.

“Skye!” I yell again, not realizing that I’ve gotten to my feet. I stumble at first, feeling the weakness reach my legs. Her name leaves my lips wet with tears as I run past the kitchen and down the hall.

Pushing open her door, darkness meets my eyes, and I swear in that moment it swallowed me. Hitting me, I grab the doorframe and feel my forehead fall against it. Leaning there for support, the sobs roll through me, the very reason still clutched in my hand.

“Whaaaaat?” she groans tiredly from her bed across the room.

But I only reply with a sob of her name, hiccups havocking my chest. My hands claw at the wall, darkness coating my eyelids.

“Ree?” Skye asks groggily, the click of her lamp following her words. “What happened? Are you alright?” she hurries, the pillowy patting of her covers being thrown back meeting my ears.

Her arms wrapping around me are almost numbing, and do nothing. And feel like nothing. But when I feel my head meet her chest, the slowed-down world I lived in for those few seconds vanishes.

“Skye, I-. . . ,” I attempt, once again falling up short as tears suffocate my voice, much like they’re making me feel. Shakily, I press my phone into her hand as I try to find safety in her arms.

I wait and then am rewarded with her intake of breath followed by a sigh. “Holy fuck,” she whispers, and retaliates by pulling me closer against her. “Come here, Ree.”

She walks me over to her bed and helps me under the covers until I’m surrounded by them, and her arms.

“Who i-is she?” I demand sloppily, searching for something to hold onto and to anchor myself with. I’m compensated with the smooth fabric of her shirt that I cling to the back of, my head falling into her hair. The mundane scent of strawberries wafting from her body tries to relax me, but to no avail.

“Ree-,” she begins, but I don’t let her start, let alone finish.

“I want to kn- I need to know,” I respond, sniffling against the warm expanse of her neck. There’s shuffling next to me before she sighs, and I sense the light of my phone. Tapping prods at my hearing as I try to form coherent thoughts.

I’m met with images of him. Harry. His dark curls, the way his eyes crinkle when he laughs, and the high-pitched giggle that accompanied my tickling as well as his own. The intruding memories rack my body with shaking sobs, pressing my lips together as new tears gush over them. My belly contracts with each sob, and I don’t even register the cramping in my hands from holding on so tightly.

“I don’t think that’s a good idea,” Skye hums warily from above, pulling my head into her neck, leaving her arm there to shield me from her words. Or the image that I can’t remove from my mind even if I tried. It’s burned there indefinitely now.

His arms in a blue button-up surrounding her and his lips enveloping hers. A smile creasing his cheeks with happiness, and spreading to those of her dark cheeks. Her curvy body pressed against his, flowing ebony curls tickling her chocolate skin.

“Tell me.”

“Okay,” Skye caves, the tips of her fingers running marathons along my back, in attempts to calm me down. But I don’t know if the tried and true will work this time, although it has for every other, even when my dad’s life was painted with the C-Word. “She’s a London based artist, does some sculpting and gallery work locally. According to her Instagram account, anyways.”

“I asked . . who is she?” I repeat, my voice wavering under the dominance of the tears.

“Her name’s Bailee Taylor.”

“W-what does her page look . . . like?” I request, exhaustion blanketing me, and only adding another feeling to the rest. Blinking away the tears, I try to take in a deep breath, but my memories hit me with the safety I felt in his arms. Unwaveringly.

“It looks like they’re . . dating,” Skye announces quietly, squeezing me around the middle. The confirmation I didn’t know I’d been searching for hits me like a train, knocking the air out of me again. And all of a sudden, hatred pulses through me, asking me where to lay it. Where to feel it. “There’s a few pictures of them on her feed, looks like they met maybe a few weeks ago.”

“Why?” jumps from my lips finally, taking a nosedive to join a sea of unanswered questions. The word shakes the second it leapt from my tongue, and somehow it hurts more than all of the rest. “I h-hate him,” I cry, my nose smushing against her skin when I try to hold onto her tighter than I already am.

“No, you don’t,” she coos, raking her fingers through my hair slowly, and carefully.

“I know, b-but I wish I could,” I answer, the memories dancing through my head at hyper speed. Falling asleep in his arms, and waking up in them. The tickling fight. The almost kiss. The Scrabble game. Waking up to find him waiting there in the doorway. Him coming back even after the way I treated him. Finding him standing there at the front of the lecture hall. The reprieve of being in his arms again after so long spent away from them. And then, like a wall, my mind runs into the strings of unanswered texts. The canceled lunch dates. The both of us ignoring the other’s texts, but then at the end, it was him. It was him who was awkward during the last phone call. He hung up on me abruptly, and I heard somebody else was there. Was it her? It’s possible they would have already been together by then. He said he’d text me to set up lunch, and he never did.

“It won’t make you feel better,” she murmurs, cupping my head with her palm. The sound of tears edging at her words only makes mine come harder, and the feeling in my gut grows louder.

“Then what will?” I beg, wondering if I’ll ever forget the taste of the salty tears. A taste I thought I could forget just late last month when my dad was cured. News that I told him, and had been impatiently waiting to do all day. “I thought I was just feeling okay again, Skye.”

“I know, Ree, I’m so sorry,” she returns, placing her cheek against mine, the first tear peeking through in her voice. “I’m sorry.”

I unpeel myself from her anxiously, kicking away the blankets before my feet land on the floor.

“Where are you going?” she almost demands, the sound of her following me far away.

“I’m gonna be sick,” I confess, rushing down the hall before falling to my knees in front of the toilet. The Cheerios and milk from earlier make a reappearance, along with the string cheese, and mushy contents of my other meals.

Running a cold cloth along my face, Skye kneels in front of me, her face painted in sadness.

“How can it hurt so much, Skye, when he wasn’t even mine?” I croak, focusing on the lone tile in our bathroom that doesn’t match the rest of the flooring.

“I think you’re wrong, he was yours, Ree.”

“I was so close. I fucked up, again,” I weep, my lips collapsing with yet another sob.

“Don’t say that, don’t,” she insists, tucking her hair behind her studded ear when it goes every which way with the shaking of her head. “You can’t blame yourself for this.”

“It’s not your fault.”

“It feels like it is. She’s so pretty . . Of course she is,” I remember aloud, breathing in quickly before the tears take hold of me once more. Closing my eyes, I reach out for her and let my head rest against her shoulder.

“She really isn’t, Ree. A big pair of tits doesn’t make you pretty, and anyways, you’re far prettier. He could do much better, like you.”

“You’re just saying that,” I confess, trying to swallow, but my throat has tied itself into knots with the thoughts of him. And when that word falls out of bed inside of my head, I find that it can hurt worse. “I was his Becks, Skye, I thought it was right there. That it was gonna happen for us.”

“Oh, Ree,” she cries, sniffling against my hair when she pulls me against her. “I know, I’m so sorry . . so sorry.”

Nodding into her chest, it feels right as her necklace digs into my wet cheek. My jaw aches from clenching my teeth, and so does every other part of my body in some way. Somehow I let her bring me back to her bed, and hide me away in her arms. My head swims with questions, then fleeting hatred for him, and inconsolable longing the very next. I shed a tear for his smell, his contagious smile, that Scrabble game we’ll never finish, the churros I’ll never be able to eat again without him ruining them for me, the color of his eyes I could never forget, and the lost feeling of his lips I never got to kiss. The list miles long of things I never got to say to him, or do with him, or make him feel. Because now she does, and she isn’t me.

“I-I thought . . that he felt the same way about me, and that somehow he knew that I loved him.”

A whimper escapes Skye’s lips as my tears fall into her neck, adding to the puddle I’ve shed there.

“What does she have that I don’t? Am I not interesting? Does she have a nicer body than I do? Am I not pretty enough? Was I not nice enough or appreciative of him?” I weep, the questions flowing off my lips from the recesses of my mind. My name greets my ears firmly, but I ignore it. “I was trying to answer his texts when I could, but things got so busy with uni and my dad. All the driving, the tests in both places, and I couldn’t keep dates right in my head. Maybe if I’d texted him back sooner that one time, or made the lunch date on the right day the first time-.”

“Becky, don’t do the ‘ifs’ thing,” Skye urges, pulling the covers further up our shoulders before returning to combing my hair back again and again.

“But I can’t stop thinking about what went wrong, a-and how much I miss him, Skye. I miss him a hundred times more after seeing that picture,” I reveal, falling into her, my lips meeting her shoulder. My teeth dig into my skin and I let them, numb to the pain as the same word is too busy with my mind. “I don’t know if I ever wanna see him again.”

“You don’t have to if you don’t want to.”

“But I do want to, I’ll always want to. Like something inside of me will always want him.”

The sunlight streaming in through the windows is the first thing I see when I awake. Ducking my head back under the covers, I pull them over me with a groan. The blissful ignorance of the first few minutes after waking up follows me, until it all comes crashing back.

“Are you awake?” a voice murmurs, sleep clinging to it.

“Unfortunately,” I whisper, staring into the muted light underneath the gray covers.

“I can stay home if you want me to, I was just making some breakfast,” Skye responds, the tapping of her feet along the floor following.

“No, don’t cancel your hair appointments because of me. I’ll be . . I’ll be fine,” I tell her, but then the tears greet me good morning.

“Oh, Ree, I’ll cancel and we can watch movies all day, or FRIENDS. Whatever you want,” she announces. The bed falls to one side when she sits on the edge, and I feel her hand find my back.

“Thanks, I was hoping you’d say that,” I return, turning around and sitting up to dive into her arms. “I was hoping I had dreamt it all and it was just a bad dream. But my life is the bad dream.”

“Oh, Ree,” she coos, surrounding me with her arms. “I know this is cliche and it doesn’t feel like it, but it’ll get better.”

“I don’t know about that. My life is a running joke lately because it feels like it’ll get better, and then it just gets worse.”

“Your birthday is coming up, isn’t it, Becky?” somebody asks. Looking up from my cupcake, I find the face of Sophie.

“Yeah, end of next week,” I answer, picking an orange sprinkle from the white frosting to eat.

“Do you have any big plans?” my boss asks as she places her lunch in the microwave.

“My brother and I hang out every year, we’re twins.”

“Oh, how fun! I remember meeting him once when he brought you lunch one day,” she smiles, turning to face me as she waits in front of the humming microwave.

I just nod and dip my finger into the frosting, feeling it melt on my tongue a second later.

“Everything alright, love?”

“Yep, just tired is all,” I fib, taking a bite of the carrot cupcake, although I’m not wrong when I think about it. Skye has been a lifesaver for the last two weeks helping me get back on my feet. Thinking back on it and all of the tears leaves a funny taste in my mouth, but I try to brush it away with a forced smile.

“How old will you be this year, Becky?” Sophie asks, pulling out a rolling chair to sit to my right at the long table.

“Good old 26.”

“Wow, still a spring chicken, I’d say,” she comments, bringing a quirky smile to my lips. I almost follow her laugh with mine. “Well you know what, an early birthday present from me is you can have the rest of the day off. You always do a great job, Becky, and so you deserve it.”

“Sophie, I-,” I begin, my jaw falling to the floor.

“I mean it, go. Get out of here. Go do something that makes you happy, love, it looks like you need to,” she smiles, squeezing my arm from across the table. Standing to my feet, profuse ‘thank yous’ leave my lips before I leave the break room.

I drive around with my windows down, unsure of where to go instead of home. Before I know it, I find myself walking into my favorite little coffee shop. I’ve always loved to hang out here with a cup, reading a book, doing homework, or just relaxing on one of their sofas.

Soon, I sit down with a Cubano sandwich and an iced cinnamon roll coffee, my very favorite. Pulling a book out of my work bag, I crack it open to the first page, unable to remember when I last had the time to read a book for fun. The words of Ruth Ware stare back at me, slowly drawing me into a made-up world, and away from the desolate one trying to swallow me.

Quickly, I’m grateful for the respite from the thoughts mucking up my mind. Instead I lose myself in the sentences that spin a scary story, thanking my old self for stashing something besides a romance in my bag. That’s the last thing I could even think about indulging in right now. For some reason, the mystery entices me, a genre I’ve always had a love for. I think, especially now, it’s the aspect of being able to solve a mystery, and to fix a problem. If only I could do that now, I wish silently with a spiteful snort.

Placing my empty plate on the return area by the cash register, I return to my cozy spot on the couch and to my book. Losing my fingers in my hair, I prop my head up and open the book to where I had left off. Soft indie music trickles from the speakers as conversations float around me. Several more sofas are dotted around the large room and booths, as well as tables varying in sizes. Friends play board games borrowed from the shelf by the fireplace, and others do schoolwork or actual work. A laugh from behind the counter echos through the room, right as the bell on the front door jingles. Although across the room, I can hear the voices floating in from the sidewalk. Cars honking and birds chirping. The sounds make me itch to leave the air-conditioned room, and bring my reading outside into the June sunshine.

The words covering the pages root me to the spot, but they can’t protect me from what I hear. It’s a voice that I know inside and out, from the shortened words to the often used words. My vocal cords soon begin to tangle into knots in my throat at the mere noise. Beneath my baby blue blouse, there’s a clobbering in my chest as the voice grows near and then stops. Instinctively, hair falls through my fingers as I lower my head, wishing to remain unseen. Unknown.

I can’t stop myself, and there I am looking up to see that crinkly-eyed smile through wrenching tears.

Harry.

23 notes · View notes

kendrixtermina · 4 years

Text

Now here's an all new theory for where the procrastination comes from

Like the uni councilors thought of like generic selfhate insecurity or like spineless ppl pleasing (nope an anime cured me of that when I was 13 - thst sounded more like what that ladys own problems might be), fear or failure & wanting to spite my father, eveb that getting ahead through "talent" was an unfair advantage bad tainted and evil, or that "talent" meant being beholden and controlled by others (definitely somewhat right - we worked on that, it helped, the second guy was defs much much more helpful & compatible cause he focussed a lot more on strategies than wannabe-maternal pep talks) but there was always something else there that wasnt getting touched

In tje end I dont think I have talent and in any case what really matters is attitude toward "living the examined life" for example whst you do. What you notice.

Now I did notice that things get harder to do precisely because I actually want them(whereas a lot of ppl get distracted from stuff because they dont really want it) - at the same time I can totally function or pick up new habits in day to day life its not like I have some "hardware problem" like, say, ADHD or the like.

Like of course its some emotional knot it couldnt be anything else but I feel they didnt identify what kind of knot? Certainly not that first lady. If im trying to get clarity and you give me reassuring pep talks you just freak me out more for the love of god tell me whats happening. Nothing worse when a Doctor says "it will be over soon" rather than explain the procedure

Fear of/ distraction from wanting itself never really occured to me thats not a common stereotypical fear that ppl talk about.

Let me get this straight I never thought I was better than anyone I knew very well that I'm not. I thought of both those things as ways not to get bullied, maybe get somewhere where I feel that im in the right place.

If I look back at really breaking experiences it was times I really really wanted something and then I couldnt do it or some outside party stepped on my fingers. That Tori Amos Music Video where she escapes from a psycho killer's trunk and then the passerby's dont help her? That was my most favorite music video in the world for years maybe still is.

Like I was told I could maybe skip third grade and I poured all my energy and passion and strenght into that everything I had to do well, make friends with the new class i was so highly motivated I aced all the exams I felt so happy & fulfilled just being in thst flow state all the time... i wanted this more than anything. Maybe it was the first time I really wanted something beyond vague dreams or base desires. But the homeroom teacher hated my guts and put the kibosh on that; Probably because I was unwittingly repeating some of the artogant classist shit my father spouts without realizing how hurtful it is. my parents thought it wasnt worth going to the higher ups for that but having to essentially redo 4th grade in a crap school in the different town we moved to was one of the worst times of my life. Also I didnt find out that the teacher had hated me/acted in a petty way until years after I thought I just failed. That there was a possible place I could have belonged but turns out I really belong nowhere after all.

All my effort was for nothing. It was such a joy - i mean these days even getting code to work or solving math problems has that same joy - but all that effort and joy and wanting did was that... im tearing up and searching for the words to even process this tbh. I think I denied that joy, told myself that I was just a stupud kid thinking I was a special snowflake. It didnt even matter.

Rather than insist on staying up late to make sure my homework was done I just stopped caring and hardly did another piece of homework in my life just faking it on the spot or coasting through. It could have gone another way maybe if it werent for the bullies and my father the chief bully or if only I was more determined but it was like "okay I dont care anymore I just dont care" and I think thats stayed my default response to dissapointment to this day.

This TV show didnt turn out like I wanted? I dont care its just a tv show.

My father treated be with hatred all my life? Its okay I dont care about him and I dont want his love anyway.

Like there were other times when I thought I could be happy.

Like I really wanted to go to this boarding school for gifted kids. Again I thought maybe incorrectly that this would be a place where I can belong and not be bullied it was never about being better than anyone.

Again I wanted it I clamored and cried and made noise nonstop. Maybe I still hadnt wholly lost contact with willpower back then. I still thought of myself as strong willed.

And my father made me regret it. It was around the same time that mom briefly considered divorce maybe I was just the stress valve. Or he took it personally as wanting to get away from him. Duh he abused me of course I wanted away from him. He was such a suffocating control freak! Mom said yes first then he spoke to her and suddenly she followed everything he said. Thats when I really realized how emotionally manipulative was how abusive... i mean one of my first conscious memories of him is thinking "oh crap I will be just like cinderella" but he really laid it on so thick so transparently even a 10 year old could tell its manipulation. If you do this you dont love your mom. If you do this you dont love your siblings. If you dont obey me your mom will kill herself. No she wont you jerk even my 2 year old self could tell youre abusive.

The most cruel thing he did was briefly say yes. Again I got so happy. So invested. Just bending all I was towards that even though he bombarded me with abuse and mental torture.

And then on the day we were supposed to leave he said no youre not going.

Maybe I actually did say I didnt want to go because of one time he was doing this constant scientology type torture on me

That same reaction: "I dont want it I dont want anything so please please let me be"

Ppl think of bad childhoods as a game that you win if yoz turn 18 -or 28 maybe - without killing yourself. But its not. Every year you live it can take away from your potential. Every day less than you have to live it

He sure didnt let me have sucess with his overcontrol and abuse. Anything I was proud of he rules. When I graduated from school with a fairly good but not perfevt final score he humiliated me. When I turned 18 he humiliated me. Everything I did was a burden even just feeding and washing me. Hed give me unwanted white elephant gifts then bitch about how giving them to me ruined his life cause he had to work so muxh "Ingrate Ingrate Ingrate" Butch I never asked for anything I want nothing!

But as I had to eat I did in fact have to ask things of him and I hated it so much.

No wonder that I turned out afraid of wanting things eh?

Hed seen some poster when we went to see tje school I wanted to go to - not by the school by an individual student - about the history of abortion portrayed in a positive way or at least that was his official reason why I couldnt go. Again I had wanted something badly with all my being and again all my being availed nothing. Irrelevant like I didnt exist. All my screaming gone unheard.

And this is so silly cause im not a child anymore I have control and if I were to stop procrastinating I could have money and gave even more control.

I havent even spoken to him in years now hes no longer relevant. Its not about him its about thus bad pattern I picked up.

I like how this books handles it with the idea that certain experiences dont create the type but that it nakes you uniquely suceotible to certain kinds of hurt or certain misunderstandings.

Because with all this discourse about bad message free media ive really come to think that while it can and should be minimized its not possible to eradicate cause human mibds are so quicl so fallible to extract overgeneralizations and make it mean something abput themselves

Like an immature statistical learning model easily overtrained by noisy data.

Another time I was nearly happy was when I started looking for work, doing my thesis...

Same pattern I was engaged, happy to be engaged talking to ppl at both work and in the uni work group loving it all so much...

my life had started to feel meaningful again. And it had gotten to that point in part because of my ex-fiance. Yes the councelling heloed taking up meditation helped, getting high on morning glory that one time helped a whole lot got more self esteem from that than I ever got from my father.

But that all started because of my ex fiance.

He was an i tellectual type and he had a sense of purpose about him like hes a legendary character and everyone around him became legendary too. And he found me useful! Others had called me "walking dictionary" with mockery and scorn he called me his google and it meant love and admiration. Maybe I got a bit of an ego trip off of tjat but I also really stupidly dumbtastically loved him I bragged of him to anyobe who listened everything he did seemed fascinating abd interesting and meaningful, but also I just loved the sweet gentle warmth of being next to him in the morning. Once again I was happy and everything was joyful even when it was hard, I felt strong and meaningful and useful and I let myself openly want things.

And then it all blew up. Worse yet i was so mistaken abozt him it really shook my confidence in my own judgement or any sense of clarity. I was si confused during the fucking breakup like I hadnt been since I left my father's house.

Google hah! More like his personal Alexa! It turns out he didnt respect or like me at all.

I couldnt even be sad or angry cause it was all my mistake. The one feeling I allowed - and even that took me weeks to identify - is dissapointment. Heavy leaden dissapointment i didnt even kniw that was a feeling you could feel so strongly. I didnt even do anything wrong you have to open yourself to have love. He could habe choosen to love me he just simply didnt. He probably thought he did but he wouldnt evebn do something as simple as not make fun of my voice or clean when I am sick.

Once he started putting me in the "wife" role he just became unable to see me. His loss really cause I think he wanted to keep me from all those annoying texts and email he had the nerve to write.

By all means I was right to trust but also right to leave later but still my sense of certainty and purpose and meaning was totally shaken. He did the sort of romantic stuff I didnt think was real. I knew I loved him when we had this conversation about water on mars. He got me the perfect books for my birthday! He said I was pretty and a genius and looked just like an actress. He got me this titanic esque heart pendant with stars. We were stuck at midnight in a train station that one time and he pulled out a picnic rug two plastic glasses and a shampain bottle. It never worked out but he said he might take me to see the LHC! I really thought we would be buried in the same hole folks!. He had read that same steven Hawkings book that I loved. One of the rather few books he actually read as I would find. Sigh.

And I fell right back into that same old pattern. Dont care about anything dont want anything it would be stuoid unrealistic and silly to want.

When I first came to uni I also had this feeling of hapiness and belongingness and wanting, I was putting in an effort, talking to ppl more.. and when things went wrong the slightest bit I pulled by hand back from that like from an open flame.

And here I am years later most the sucess or contact I get is comments on my fanfictions.

I thought I was doing that, or drawing, because its Stakes/Evaluation-free (going by the fear of failure theory) or because at least with the ffs gratification/payoff for effort is immediate compared to original stuff or uni work. Its a nice little niche at least.

I mean I do care about it its not "just" distraction but maybe ive been profaning it in that way... and so etimes I dont even do that and go for full unadulterated undebatable distraction; Line to 7 I guess. Tje only reason I spoke face to face to anyone else than the delivery guy this week is that I had some doctors appointments.

But not its distraction from stuff Im too lazy to do or even from pressure like I always thought. But from wanting things.

So the original fiction went great while it was a distraction from school not so much when its one of the things I most want and actually have the time to do it.

Even thought thats the most practiced skill I have that I never stopped working on since I was 10. 🤦‍♀️

I mean they already explained that its basically like meditation. Or weeds. Or popup ads. Youve got to click them away as they pop up.

I always told myself thst I didnt have to be happy... and thats not even untrue actually but it would sure be neat to be happy again one of these days.

#enneagram #enneagram type 5 #feelings #enneagram 5w4 #5w4

5 notes · View notes

onthepageoftears · 5 years

Text

Little Secrets (Maeve Wiley x Reader)//Sex Education

A/N: I kind of combined requests for this one because it just kind of happened that way lol but it was really fun to write!! This one is pretty long too so ill leave you to it ;)))

(title from the song of the same name by Passion Pit)

Requests:

can i request a maeve fic where her and the reader pretend to hate each other but are secretly friends with benefits? they both have deeper feelings for the other but neither want to admit it, and the reader goes to Otis for advice

Hey, I love your writing!! Can I request number 4,18,34 from the drabble list with Maeve x reader?

Warnings: enemies to lovers, mentions of sex, friends with benefits, language, ANGST IM GONNA CRY, but also the FlUfFiEsT FlUfF THAt eVeR FlUfFeD

Words: 2,055 yowzaa

Please Don’t Plagiarize My Work!

When you first met Maeve, you didn’t think anything but hate could come of your relationship.

The first thing she said to you was: “Fuck off.” You accidentally bumped into her in the hallway, making her drop all her books. She only snarled those very words when you tried to apologize, and from then on you managed to form your own grudge for her, one of absolute chance. Maybe, if you hadn’t met that day, you two could have hit it off right away. But that’s not how it happened.

It was safe to say that you didn’t hate her; you hated the fact that she hated you, for some reason. Just because you caught her (or, pushed her) at a bad time, the two of you had to fix your glares to each other in the hall, or in class. It was like a game of who could hate the other more: whether it be through glares, words, or middle fingers, the two of you were in a constant battle of hate.

After a while, your hate for her subsided. You actually looked forward to hearing her newest remark and couldn’t wait to see her reaction when you spit out yours. You couldn’t hide the hope in your eyes when you found her in the library, waiting for her to look up so you could reach into your pocket and pull out your middle finger. And you would be lying if you weren’t ecstatic that you were paired with her for an English project.

Once you approached her, watching her lick her lips as she turned the page of her newest read, you realized this hatred was more of a lust. Though you had thought about it before, you never fully put the pieces together.

And then you two were in your room, grudgingly trying to work on your project while also trying to keep your hands to yourselves. It was only an hour of solid work when you suddenly felt the air in the room become a thin string of sexual tension, being cut off when she finally turned to you and grabbed your face in her hands, pulling you into a desperate kiss. You tangled your hands in her hair and let her push you back on the bed, quickly ripping your clothes off and ridding yourselves of the long awaited intimacy that had been clouding in your eyes ever since you bumped into each other.

And ever since then, you had been seeing each other quite often. Friends with benefits, as people called it. Though, you weren’t friends, not yet. You were just benefits, meeting up in the breaks of class and the free time you had after school just for a solid fuck. You weren’t complaining; Maeve was hot, and you were into it, and you didn’t care if that meant sneaking around to be with her. It was just benefits, like you two agreed, and it would stay that way. At least, that’s what you thought.

Slowly, you spent more time together; after a good makeout session in the asbestos bathrooms, you would end up talking about classes, books, movies, bands. You weren’t lethal with each other anymore, not even outside of your “relationship”. You just ignored each other in the ‘real world’, or the world outside of your little secret. But when you were together, the small whispers and soft touches after the sex was what you really looked forward to. Which is when you realized you were catching feelings.

So you told Maeve that. You told her you two should probably stop, that this friends with benefits was becoming more ‘friends’ than ‘benefits’, and you knew she wouldn’t want that. But surprise overtook you when she declined your offer to stop seeing each other, and instead said: “We should see where it ends up. Like an experiment.”

An experiment. You had never been good with science, but you supposed an experiment couldn’t hurt. And it didn't, at first. It actually felt really, really good. You both had a lot more in common than you thought, and your chemistry was much more meaningful than it had been when it was all based on sex. Now, the two complimented each other, and you felt like you were in a state of euphoria.

You two still kept your relationship a secret, because you both weren’t out yet and didn’t want to hear all the gossip and drama that would undoubtably commence. Or maybe it was the thrill of the secrecy, of this little pact between the two of you.

And everything would have stayed the same if Eric hadn’t caught you two making out in the asbestos filled bathroom shortly after your lunch period. Later, you told Maeve you were lucky he didn’t find you two a little bit later, where you would’ve probably had your hand down her pants, but she just rolled her eyes.

“I won’t tell anyone, I swear,” Eric said, fearful by the way Maeve clenched her jaw and held eye contact a little too strongly.

“Maeve, it’s fine,” you said, laying a hand on her shoulder. She ripped herself away from your grasp, but didn’t see the hurt in your eyes.

“I really won’t tell,” Eric said again, this time turning to you. He hadn’t known you too well, but well enough; you had been friendly with him during Maeve’s work with the ‘clinic’, and you nodded your head at the boy with a small smile.

“It’s okay, Eric. I trust you.” You watched the boy fumble away, still shocked by Maeve’s intimidation. She hadn’t been like that with him, or you, for a long time.

“That was kind of hot,” you remarked dumbly, hoping your rash comment would crack a smile in her angry face. But she didn’t even twitch, and you nearly face palmed as you watched her grab her bag. You softened your eyes, now realizing she was upset. Really upset. “What’s wrong?” You asked calmly, already knowing she wouldn’t tell you, at least not right away.

“Nothing,” she said, pushing past you with a glint of pain in her eyes. “I’ll see you later.”

You waited for her text, for her to tell you she was pissed or at least invite you over to talk. But the text never came. It was painful, watching your phone and only seeing the background of you two flipping the bird at the camera. You turned your eyes away, trying to focus on class. But how could you? Maeve was upset, and when Maeve was upset, you were upset. You two were like that. Always connected, even though no one else knew about it.

No one else knew about it. It had started to bother you more recently; the fact that you couldn’t hold her hand in the hallways, couldn’t kiss her cheek goodbye unless it was behind closed doors. You couldn’t make out in the main hallway of school, even though you both thought that was tacky and disgusting. But the idea that you couldn’t made you want it, and you wanted her so bad. You had her, but no one else could see. And you wanted them to see.

So, you were kind of glad when Eric found you. It was like a weight lifted from your chest, and your heart filled with hope at the chance of being with Maeve, in public. But then Maeve was upset, angry, distant. And now you were too.

She couldn’t avoid you for long; at least, that’s what you told yourself as you waited at your usual meet up in the asbestos bathroom. She hadn’t texted you all night, and you had begun to feel like you lost her, or wonder if you even had her to begin with. And all day you wondered that: does she think of me as much as I think of her? Did she even want this relationship to begin with? Was this ‘experiment’ going as far for her as it was for you? Or were you really just friends with benefits?

No. You refused to believe that. But the nagging in your brain wouldn’t stop, and you decided to go to the boy who maybe, somehow, could help you.

“Just talk to her,” Otis said simply after you spilled your entire story to him.

“That’s it?” He shrugged, unbothered by the harshness of your tone. You rolled your eyes but thanked him nonetheless, and got away from him as quick as possible. Could’ve come to that conclusion myself, you thought; but the truth was, you were purposefully procrastinating the talk you needed to have with Maeve, and Otis’ advice only made you mad because you knew it was true. Which is why you found Maeve at school soon after, in the library, and stood in front of her until she looked up from her book.

“We need to talk,” you said, grabbing her hand in public- though not the way you had always wanted to - and bringing her to one of the non-asbestos infested bathrooms. You looked at her seriously, trying to catch her eyes as they looked anywhere but you. “You’re avoiding me,” you said, ignoring the crack in your voice and the tears welling up in your eyes. You thought you wouldn’t cry, but now that you saw her, in front of you but still so distant, you couldn’t help but feel your throat tighten.

She clenched her jaw and glanced at you, quick, like it pained her to even to that. “No, I haven’t.”

“Are you serious?” You watched her face through blurry, tear filled eyes. “Ever since Eric saw us, you’ve been so distant…and I want to know why.” You wiped the tears on your cheeks angrily. “Are you testing me? Is this a part of our ‘experiment’? Or…is this some reverse psychology shit to make to break up with you?”

“No!” She jumped forward, placing a hand on your arm. You nearly pulled away, but the softness of her fingers make your heart nearly burst. “I don’t want to break up with you. Not at all.”

“What is it then?”

She took a deep breath, leaning against the sink behind her. “Do you know how long people have called me cockbiter?”You didn’t bother answering, knowing she would tell you anyway. “Too long. And do you know what they would say if they knew about you? About us?”

“Of course I do.” You frowned, a dry laugh escaping your lips. “I hear what they say behind those other girls' backs. I hear what they say everyday, and even though it’s not about me, or us, I still feel lit like it is. And if hearing that shit means that I get to spend time with you and share how much I love you to the world, then so be it.”

She turned to you, eyes wide. It looked like a bit of fear and surprise swirling in her glance, but tears welled up in her eyes as well. “You love me?”

You didn’t realize you said it, but now that you had, it was so clear. Instead of responding, you took a step forward, placing your hands on her cheeks and laying a soft kiss on her lips. “If you aren’t ready, it’s okay. But I don’t want to keep us a secret forever.”

She looked at you, the anger that you two once held dissipating into the air. It was strange to think that once upon a time you hated each other, and for such a dumb reason. But now, looking into her eyes, all you could see was love - even if she didn’t say it.

“If you aren’t ready, it’s okay,” you found yourself saying again, still holding onto Maeve like she would run away any second.

She looked at you, almost suddenly, with determination in her eyes. “I’m ready.”

And the two of you walked out of the bathroom, hand in hand, not giving a fuck about the people around you; you didn’t hear the slight murmurs or see the all too obvious posting of fingers. You both just focused on each other, on what your love was and what it would become, and you smiled wide at the thought that your love was no longer a secret.

#sex education #sex education netflix #sex education imagine #self insert imagine #maeve wiley #maeve wiley x reader #maeve wiley imagine #maeve wiley x reader imagine #maeve wiley angst #maeve wiley fluff #maeve wiley x reader angst #maeve wiley x reader fluff #otis milburn #otis milburn imagine #eric effiong #eric effiong imagine #writing #drabble #reader imagine

672 notes · View notes