#they still got it. pretending they didn't just to keep hating them is stupid | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

brucewaynehater101 · 2 days

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*sasukepose.jpg* I'm starting to realize that Trash!Tim is more like if OG!Cale regressed rather than Kim Rok Soo transmigrating, and rather than Trash!OGCale turning into a decent human, it's the other way around for Tim of turning from decent into trash and---

*lies on floor* I've been going about this all wrong!

Because in my mind, I was thinking Tim in the same way as Kim Rok Soo, because I hc Tim to have hyperthymesia and they both lost so many people but the only reason they're able to survive is because they learned to rely on other people!

And for regressed Tim to throw all that away in his new life, to make sure that the family he loves gets a happy life while he suffers? While he sees a family portrait with him missing from it? While he sits at the table and has Bruno from Encanto's levels of wanting to eat with his family but can only eat with them from afar? I just---

My heart is breaking. Unlike Kim Rok Soo who transmigrated and slowly built a family for himself, it's OG!Cale in the original timeline destroying his relationships with his family to keep them happy and safe. I am in tears.

I was thinking of Dick being Tim's Lee Soo Hyuk, telling Tim that living is best! I was thinking of Jason being his Choi Jung Soo, and Bruce being his Choi Han. Bruce who just lost his son having this sort of darkness in him, and Tim taking a page out of Jason's book and just feeding Bruce till he feels better rather than doing his whole Batman needs a Robin thing from the OG!timeline.

But now, NOW. THINGS ARE ANGSTIER. If in the OG!Timeline Jason and Damian were manipulated to get rid of Tim by Talia, Tim now goes on ahead and puts that target on his back himself. He's doing so well at being trash, he wonders if this is all he's good for in the long run of his life. How long can he keep this up, how long can he keep the gazes of disdain on himself by the people he loves? They don't even know him in this timeline, and that hurts even further.

My thoughts gets to a point where Tim got too deep in being trash that he ends up on a rooftop, looking at the sky and basking in the Gotham sunset. He's beside Jason's favorite gargoyle and he's just standing there.

Jason has plenty of reason to hate Tim, but Red Bat (stupid name, I know, but just to get to the scenario) has no reason to turn someone who may be a rich spoiled brat away.

So, he calls out to Tim. Asks him what's wrong.

Tim doesn't reply. But when he turns his head, Jason could only see how anguished this boy looks. How could a spoiled brat who knows nothing but being trash look so tortured and defeated when nothing even happened to him to look that way?

Or something is. Something might be happening behind the scenes.

That anguished look is instantly replaced with that cocky smirk, but his red eyes full of tears were still on display.

Tim says something, Jason doesn't listen.

It was probably to get a rise out of him, but so much is happening in Jason's head.

"Wanna get some chili dogs?" he asks on impulse.

It shuts Tim up, makes Tim have a complicated look on his face, before settling for what Jason could tell is forced disgust. Because the kids' eyes were widened, his shoulders relaxed. He's hopeful and excited.

Jason grabs Tim and jumps off the roof, grappling to his favorite chili dog stand. The kid didn't even force a scream or demands for a lawyer.

But he did hug Jason tight.

Huh.

Shizz... This kind of makes me want to actually write a bit of an angst fic about the Tim "Trash" AU. You are correct that the entire thing would be angsty, but I imagine Tim's narration of it would be full of jokes. He's be laughing, rolling his eyes, making slightly fucked up jokes about his situation, but he wouldn't go into it. Maybe he'd even convince himself that it's fun to pretend so much. He's a bit of a troll like that and makes internal debates with himself on how fast he can get someone to explode in rage.

But, yeah. I wrote a fic about Tim going back in time and purposefully cutting himself off from the family (and not rejoining them despite helping them). This, though? Him making himself into a public figure he knows his family would despise? Yikes.

It hurts but in a very delicious way.

How much time does he spend hesitating before doing an action that would lower the Waynes opinion of him? How often does he try to ignore his family so he can do what he must (being "trash")?

Hopefully, Tim isn't alone in that AU. I like to imagine he has another persona (maybe his vigilante one, maybe an online one) so that he has at least someone who doesn't hate him

#dc comics #tim drake #dc universe #dc au #thank you for the ask!!!!

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hopelessdazai · 25 days

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✿ 》 Will you talk to me again?

╰⧼ 🪻 note.. ⧽ ; I don't expect this to do well because its not smut but it'd be nice !! reblogs appreciated, support your creators :)

╰⧼ ☀️ features.. ⧽ ; @saelique angst collab!! dazai x gn!reader, WC ; 784

╰⧼ 🌙 contents.. ⧽ ; angst, reader isn't alive, letter from dazai. he's trying very hard to keep himself stable but it's not working™.

To my dearest ______ .

It's been a while, hasn't it? I hope you don't mind me writing to you like this, it's simply been too long. I'm sure you're still angry at me, so seeing you physically isn't my best interest right now! haha, I'm sorry. you know I'm just joking around, don't you? I'd love to see you in person. I'm sure you would've punched my arm if you heard me out loud right now, wouldn't you? I'm glad I'm spared of the bruises.

what does someone put in a letter? that's what I was asking myself before I even began writing. I decided that the best way to do something like this was to just write whatever I feel true as pen touches paper. I hope it makes sense to you, at the least. if I'm pouring my heart out on some paper only for it to be misunderstood, it feels like a waste, no?

though, i'd be lying if i said it wouldn't be rather cute to see you try to fathom what I mean. did you know you scrunch your nose like a bunny sometimes when you're reading? I'm sure you're doing that now too. you'll get wrinkles very at this rate ..

but anyway, I managed to prank kunikida the other day! you remember that hair dye trick I'd told you about? I managed to break into his apartment and swap out his shampoo, at last! he came into work the next day with black hair, it was hilarious, you should've been here! he was so angry with me. beat me black and blue!

oh, _____. I got a new heated blanket for our bed, you know? it took a while to save up for it, and I had to cut out some other necessities, sure. but it makes everything so much better! I hate cold beds, I'm sure you know that better then anyone. haha, back before we moved in together when I'd break into your apartment and crawl into bed with you. I'm sorry for the amount of locks I broke, but your place was so cozy!

... you know, it's been really hard without you here. I miss you so painfully, and I don't mean to call into the void without even an echo, but its killing me to pretend I'm fine about any of this. I'm not fine with this, how am I supposed to be? I wish it was just a bad dream.

I don't want to have to write letters to you anymore, ______. I don't want to have to buy heated blankets to try and stop my arms from aching for your warmth. I don't want you to be angry with me, I'm sorry I didn't apologise to you before you were gone. I shouldn't have been so stupid.

i had so many words on my mind that I was too afraid to say. maybe if I faced myself and told you 'I love you' it would've stopped you leaving.

have you met odasaku yet? has he told you any stories of his time? I wish I could hear your voice again. I wish you could answer my questions. even to hear you scoff at my stupidity again would heal me. I'm sorry I was annoying, I just wanted your attention. it stings knowing I'll never get it again.

I can't keep repeating to myself that you're not gone. I can't keep buying your perfume and pretending that you're in the next room over. your pillow doesn't smell like you anymore.

I wish I could apologise properly. I wish I could've stopped you from leaving the house that night. I wish I could kill myself to join you and yet I know we won't cross paths again in the afterlife. you were always too good for me, ______. i was nothing compared to you.

i picked up a homeless dog yesterday. you'd always wanted a puppy, I'm sorry I never let you bring one home. I named it after you. im trying to get used to them, I promise. if I couldn't save you, I'll save your name.

I'm sorry. if I continue writing, my throat will hurt more. its strange, isn't it? crying makes your throat sore. I forgot what it was like for a while, I remember laying in your arms wondering if I'd ever have a reason to cry again. now I can't seem to help myself.

keep your wings clean for me, white looks good on you. its a shame you couldn't wear the wedding attire i wished to see you in one day. you would've looked amazing.

I'll write again, missing you is the greatest honor.

sincerely, your osamu.

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007reid · 7 months

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u have absolutely no idea what 'coffee caramels' did to me omg 😭 u write spencer and his mannerisms so WELL hsbsghdbdh so i come to u with a lil request if that's okay with u !!

spencer insists on playing pretend-doctor for reader who's sick (but denying it) so he invokes his technically-a-doctor card and gives his second opinion just to take care of reader n smother them w looooove

essentially just him teasing y/n and being the stupid Cute attentive nerd he is <3

(inspired by S5E3 where he gets stuck at the bau w garcia bc he was being stubborn abt his injury)

i am never ever Normal abt this guy 😞 i look forward to reading more of ur work and losing my mind over reid with u, aine !! mwa

hiii tysm for requesting, youre so fucking sweet!! <33 drop an emoji to let me know who you are and let’s loose our mind over our fav boy together anon!!!! also sorry this took so long, i wrote like 3k but then hated it so i started over, i love this prompt sm so i feel like i had to do it justice.

pspspsp i love s5 spence so fucking much... his hair went from beautiful to ethereal to mad sexy...s5 treated us well. requests are ALWAYS appreciated !!!!!!

soup. spencer reid

spencer reid x fem!reader, 3k

you've been off it for so long, dodging virus after virus and disease after disease and just right when you thought that you are immune to sickness, you caught it. the inevitable fever.

there was no denying it, you've tried. after getting a headache, you popped a tylenol before you went to sleep, nonchalant. the next morning was when reality really came crashing down. a sore throat.

it progressively got worse throughout the day, and when you came crashing into bed after a long day at work, your nose was feeling stuffy and your were coughing, spewing sickness everywhere you went. you woke up in the middle of night sweating like you had just ran a fucking marathon and only able to breathe through one nostril unless you shift your body entirely.

you did not take to these news well. firmly in denial, you still planned to show up to work the next day.

except you didn't show up to work. sickly and delirious, the part when you press snooze then snooze again slip your mind and at one point you must've turn off your alarm entirely. drifting in and out of consciousness and slipping into dream after dream, it gets harder to tell what is real and what is not.

"y/n? y/n!"

now, it is very probable that the voice isn’t actually real, because why the hell would you be hearing spencer reid’s voice outside of work? the chances are slim to none, and despite the heat pounding at your skull you manage to smile. there is something unexplainably comforting about spencer’s voice, soft and deliberate. it would be foolish to say that under the mad spell he’d cast on you (him simply saying two words) he’s managed to melt away your headache, because he didn’t. you still feel like shit.

“y/n?”

you frown, the voice sounding too insistent and real and not matching up with the visuals of your dream. you feel a tapping on your shoulder and when you blink your eyes open you could’ve screamed.

you jump up and then backwards, huddling your blanket with you, scared for your life. because right in front of you is perhaps the most intimidating creature on the earth; spencer reid in a purple sweater vest with his face so close to yours he could breathe in your sickness, hair tucked carefully behind his ear.

“spencer?” you ask incredulously, but instead your voice comes out a rasp. you clear your throat, feeling something warm creep up your cheek. it might be a blush, but you blame it on the chills. you keep blinking, trying to regain your vision and feel instantaneous embarrassment. you look a mess, sick and dehydrated with dry lips and bad hair and you probably reek of morning breath. and spencer’s there, looking like heaven’s finest angel, smiling at you like he’s smiling at a person and not a monster. spencer has the tendency to treat and look at everyone like they’re the love of his life. you sort of hate it.

“hi y/n,” he breathes, crouching down on the floor before you on the bed. “i—“

“what are you doing here?” you’re too impatient to wait, still in shock.

now. you try not to make it obvious that you have a mad crush on spencer, because if the fact were to spill, you’re not eager cleaning up the consequences. it’s an unestablished, unspoken rule that should be common sense that no workplace dating will be allowed and usually it’s a ridiculous rule, because who the hell would want to date their coworker, like actually? work crushes are normal but they exist only in a part of your day, an eye-candy for you to stare at to get through the day, then you go home or go out and forget about them. who actually has serious work crushes, actually? actually? it’s ridiculous.

your defense is completely solid, you’d say. your number one defense is you can’t help the fact that you and spencer were meant to be friends. the moment you joined the team, you and spencer clicked together like two lego pieces, despite your clashing personalities. you find it refreshing to have someone like spencer, someone who’s soft and sweet but cunning and resourceful but thoughtful and kind, and it was equally refreshing for spencer to have someone blunt and straightforward but still patient enough to put up with him.

spencer doesn’t like physical touch but ever since your first week he made you the exception and if you could, you would parade the privilege around like a badge. what can you say, you’re proud to be spencer’s little exception, anyone would be. he makes you feel special, differently than the others do and what’s a girl to do? to have that great of a relationship with a coworker and not be work spouses and not be actually head over heels with the guy? how laughable.

it’s not something you’re proud of, however. you know it’s a lost cause, chasing after spencer. it hurts, sometimes, but you always patted yourself on the back with an ‘it is what it is.’ spencer, as sweet and vulnerable as he is, has layers behind his thinly veiled heart. he talks a lot but he never talks about himself and he never talks about the past so he doesn’t have to revive it, so all the memories are just wounds left out and neglected to burn. spencer’s trouble, definitely trouble, but it’s hard to be aware of the workload that spencer reid is when he’s rambling to you about something as innocent as halloween or knocking his knuckles on your knee during a flight trying to get your attention.

spencer blinks sheepishly, settling criss cross apple sauce on the ground, lanky legs twisting uncomfortably. “you didn’t come into work and you didn’t answer your phone,” he explains. “emily told me to go check on you.”

you nod. he’s here because emily told him to. it makes a lot more sense now. “i’ll head in the office now,” you say, making your way out of bed, wiping at your eyes. “sorry—“

“no you’re not,” spencer says immediately, not even hesitating. he places a hand on your upper chest, pressing you back down on the bed. the butterflies at the pit of your stomach throws a fit. you know he means nothing by the action—has spencer reid ever been the one knowledgeable about romance?—but knowing that doesn’t help the heat that spread up your cheeks that’s definitely not from the sickness. “you’re burning up,” he says. “i’ll get you some water. you should clean up,” he says, uncrossing his legs difficultly and then stumbling out the room, mismatched socks slipping on the hardwood floor.

you take advantage of the time that spencer’s not there and race to the bathroom, ignoring the blackout and the dizziness that threatens to make you faint from getting up too abruptly. you squirt some toothpaste onto your toothbrush and by the time you exit the bathroom, spencer is already there, waiting, except he’s by your desk, hands on a book.

typical.

he perks up when he hears your footsteps pad into the room, turning around, looking like a child who’s been caught with your book in his hands. you smile at him, albeit it’s a pathetic smile. you feel dizzy.

“you like toni morrison?”

“i love toni morrison,” spencer chirps, excitement bouncing all over his face. “especially her masterwork, beloved,” he looks back down at your red copy admiringly then sets it down. "get back in bed," he says, and you can't wrap your hand around how ridiculous the situation is. your coworker, or work crush, is at your house, checking your temperature and shooing you to bed to rest. "i bought you soup so you can eat up, i--"

“you bought me soup?” you ask, incredulous. spencer nods seriously.

“it's proven that eating soup makes people feel better, not just some stereotype. the right amount of sodium can help help relieve sore throat pains and the vitamins and minerals found in soup can play a very large part in recovery...i had a feeling you were going to be sick, it’s the weather, you know? everyone is catching the cold. you need to eat it before it gets cold, the heat helps with nasal digestion and also sinus pressure and it'll be useless if you ate it lukewarm...i’ll be right back…” and with the babbling his voice fades out as he walks back out to the living room, leaving you alone standing on the side of your bed. you look at the forgotten copy of beloved set carefully back onto your desk, smiling to yourself slightly before climbing back into bed, because spencer says so and spencer’s always right but mostly because your legs feel like they’re going to give out.

spencer is speedy, striding several steps at once with his ridiculously long legs that looks unnaturally lanky but once he reaches your room again, soup and spoon in hand you were already nodding off, head lolling and eyes slipping shut. spencer stops at your bed stand, thinking to himself for a second before balancing the plastic bowl of soup on one hand and using the other to gently nudge at your face, waking you up. he grimaces when he feels that your skin burns to the touch, a bright tint to your cheeks that he hates himself for liking because you're sick, he shouldn't be thinking that you're pretty or stuff like that.

spencer waves the thought away, determined to focus on his mission. deliver soup, make sure you're okay, and send his farewells. that's what emily told him to do, and even though derek added a "kiss her goodnight too, loverboy!" he's only going to listen to emily, because emily knows best.

yes. perfect. that's exactly what he's going to do.

"hey," he whispers, caressing his thumb across the lightly purple patch under your eye, frowning to himself. you haven't been getting good enough sleep, and he feels guiltier for waking you up, but then straightens himself up resolutely--no. emily said the soup must be delivered and consumed--just to melt again when your eyes flutter open, confused and traces of sleep still floating around your facial expression. "sorry," he mumbles, feeling oddly embarrassed. "it's just--i mean, you don't have to, jus' want you to eat something before you sleep again."

you sit up slowly, and once you're fully awake again, the smell of the soup hits you like a bucket of ice and you suddenly feel your mouth watering. you feel like a princess, sitting there with your hands crossed in your lap while you wait for spencer to unwrap the plastic utensils and tissues from its clear packaging, carefully opening up the lid of the soup on the night stand and hot steam floats around the room, engulfing both you and spencer in a bubble of tomato soup.

spencer, a planner that he is, didn't let you eat directly from the plastic take-out bowl from the restaurant and had rummaged through your kitchen for a bowl and pours half the soup into the ceramic, no spillage and perfectly clean. then he hands the soup to you, and you eat.

to say that spencer is concerned is to say the least. you're a profiler, and you're trained to pick up on this sort of thing but you only need to be a child with an undeveloped brain to work out that spencer's worried, watching your every move and monitoring that you eat enough, the crease in his brows deepen whenever you set the bowl down so you pick it up again and stuff two more spoonfuls in your mouth, to hopefully make him worry less.

the silence is awkward, the only sounds in the room is you biting down on the spoon occasionally as you drink your soup and spencer watching intently, hands on his chin and unaware of his staring problem. you and spencer rarely has these kind of silences, the silences where you scramble for things to say because the atmosphere would always be too comfortable. you sneak glances at him as you eat. since spencer's completely oblivious to the heaviness of the silence, you feel it's up to you to break it.

"i'll clock in once i'm finish eating this, don't worry," you say, trying your best to sound reassuring as you try to choke back a spoonful of soup too big. you lick your lips, and spencer is biting his, a bad habit.

"no you're not, y/n," he says, exasperated. normally, when spencer uses his 'i'm right so you should listen to me' tone like this, it means he's geared for an argument and you would be happy to challenge him, but now you can't find the energy for it. yet you muster enough up anyway.

"i'm only a bit shaken up 'cause of the weather," you say, trying to sound as convincing as possible, still in the calm before the storm of the bicker. "'m not immobile. and i already used up all my off days visiting my family--"

spencer, however, didn't bother for the peaceful offering. "you're not coming in today, y/n," he says, and he sounds a bit anxious but you know his true intent. his eyes are mirthful with confidence, and he knows he's already won the argument. despite the buzzing in your ears and the fuzziness in your brain, you can't let the bastard win. you can't.

“i can’t miss anymore days spencer, and i won’t,” you say coldly, but you slurping on the soup hungrily like it’s your last day on earth sort of ruined your cool facade. “i’m not too sick, either, it’ll be useless for me to stay home—“

spencer reaches to press his palm against your forehead, his skin cold to the touch. you close your eyes instinctively.

“you’re burning up,” he announces. “means your sick. you’re not coming in today, y/n.”

“says who?” you say defensively, feeling a bit like you’re loosing.

“says me,” spencer says cooly, cheeky smile at his lips. you should hate it more than you do. “who’s a doctor.”

you scoff. “so now you’re an actual doctor? you got a medical phd on you?”

“i have a bachelor in medicine and enough doctorates to make me slightly knowledgeable in every field,” spencer quips and you didn’t even know that he had a bachelor in medicine. how many fucking degrees does this guy even have on his resume?

“whatever,” you grumble, sounding a lot like someone who’s just got defeated. you set the bowl of soup down on the nightstand and spencer hands you a bottled water before you could think about needing water. you pluck it from his offering hands, muttering a “thanks” under your breath.

spencer laughs quietly, watching you drink patiently and putting the cap back on when you hand him back the bottle, setting it next to your soup. you feel ridiculously babied and your cheeks burn with the guilt you feel. you’re talking him off his office hours just to be here and feed you stuff and make sure you’re taking care of yourself.

spencer, the 24/7 profiler, notices. "is something wrong?" he asks innocently, round eyes blinking and oblivious. bless him. "you got redder. is it too hot? i can adjust the a/c."

“fine,” you mumble, still a little embarrassed with your realization. “little cold, actually.”

“it's the chills from your fever,” spencer informs you. “i…” he pauses, frowning again, frustrated from not being able to finish his thought. he abandons it. “do you need anything else?”

“no spence,” you laugh sort of pathetically, throat strained. “you’ve been an angel already. you can go back to the office, if you want.”

spencer thinks back to what emily had told him. soup. make sure she’s ok. leave. he’s done the past two steps. it’s time he completes his mission.

but…

“are you sure?” he prods, a little bit of him hoping that you'd say no. he doesn't know what it is; something bothering him, making him dread leaving.

you didn't get the cue. "mhmm," you shoot him a reassuring smile. as reassuring as you can manage, anyway, grimacing at the insistent throb in your head. spencer gnaws on his bottom lip, indecisive. you don't know what he was deciding between.

whatever battle it was, he wraps it up quick. "okay," he repeats. "i'll get back."

"you do that."

"remember to drink water."

"i will."

"do you need me to bring you more?"

"i'm okay."

"okay."

the conversation feels incomplete and spencer isn't interested to complete it, booting out the door, except he lingers for a bit and awkwardly turns around, hand on the frame. you are already looking at him when he looks at you.

you and spencer are never this awkward, never this hesitant and strange. the tension that suffocates your room feels like signature first-date-tension, the kind of nervous excitement and tip-toeing blind lovers and uncertainty.

"are you sure?"

i'd rather you stay. you push the response away. "i am."

"you have medicine right?"

you do have medicine. for a brief moment, you want to lie about it; want to say that you ran out this morning and then he would run to the store for you and return and then spend more time in your insufferable, sickly presence. you brush the thought away within a second. never in a million years do you want to bother spencer, especially not with a thing as selfish as that. maybe it's because of your biased vision but spencer is looking like he's desperate to leave, practically screaming for outlet at the door. it's time you let him go and indulge in the worst sleep you'll ever have.

"yeah," you say, clearing your throat. "i do."

"okay," spencer says. "i'll go."

"thanks," you add awkwardly. "for the soup. and for coming."

"'course" spencer says absentmindedly, lingering at the door frame but not looking at you in particular, not looking at anything. he snaps back and sends you a wave. spencer has a power to him where everything he does looks unplanned, like he's doing it against his own will.

he leaves. if you had change your mind and ask for him to come back, for him to stay, he would've. no hesitation. but you didn't, and he wiggles back in his broken in converses and return back to the bau with no elevator partner.

maybe another day.

a/n: sorry for the ending, this was getting too long so i had to cut it short 😓😓but i think it's kinda fitting! lmk if you guys want a part 2 <3

#spencer reid #spencer reid drabble #spencer reid oneshot #spencer reid x fem!reader #spencer reid x y/n #criminal minds #criminal minds fandom #matthew gray gubler #mgg #spencer reid fanfiction #criminal minds x reader #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid angst #spencer reid smut #spencer reid fluff #my works

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angelltheninth · 10 months

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Could I request getting into an argument with Hobie Brown or Peter b parker headcanons?

Oh angst! There's plenty of angst to be had in Spiderverse.

Pairing: Peter B. Parker, Hobie Brown x Reader

Tags: slight fluff, heavy angst, hurt/comfort, arguments, cuddling, makin up and making out

A/N: Have to use the crying gif cause Peter is such a drama queen.

Peter hates getting into any kind of fight with you, over pretty much everything. It's not that he's not just as stubborn as you are but he knows how ugly these can get, so would very much like it if instead of screaming your heads off at each other, you give each other a little space to process things.

"No, this isn't a break up, god why did you think of that first? Do you want to break up? Okay, I thought not. Then there's no problem in giving me space is there? I'm not moving out, I'm gonna sleep on the couch! If I didn't know any better I'd say you really do want to get rid of me."

Sleeping on the couch is not as easy as it once was. You see him stretching, groaning as he pops his back but he doesn't complain about it, not a sound. He will give you your space as you will give him his. There needs to be time for you to cool off. The worst part are the awkward goodbyes you sill share, with the both of you stealing apologetic glances at each other but neither making the first move.

"I'm going out on patrol for the night. No, you go to bed, I'll get home when I get home. As I always do. Don't look so worried, I'll be thinking about this anyway, I don't need your puppy dog eyes too. Want me to pick up anything while I'm out? Got it. I'll be sure to do that. Well... see you in a few hours I guess."

He does come home late, with flowers for you that he sets beside your bed before he crawls in. You're still pretending to be asleep but you feel his arms pull you close to him from behind, his lips ticking your neck as he mumbles he still loves you and gives you another squeeze before the bed creaks right before he leaves. You don't let him, you wrap your hands around his forearms before he has the chance to let go and tell him to stay.

"Sure? I think we're both too tired to talk about this now. Yeah, in the morning. Do the flowers bother you? I can move them. Haha, I got everything else too don't worry. But when I saw them I couldn't help but think of you so here they are. Cause they were beautiful and made me smile, just like you."

Hobie gets very heated when he gets into a fight with you. Not in the terms that he's loud or lashes out a lot but he can stay angry for a very long time, unable to let go. He wants what's best for you, how do you not realize that? If he takes any risks its because of you and for your safety.

"Oh so now its my fault right? Right, right blame it all on me why don't you? I'm being unfair? You just told me to stop putting myself at risk. I'm sorry sweetheart but that's not how being a hero works. Well its a stupid idea. No, I'm not calling you stupid I... forget it, no use talking this out."

Going out begins to get even more frequent for him. You get the feeling that he's doing everything he can to avoid talking to you about this problem. The good thing is that he's not getting hurt, yet. But he can't avoid you forever, he knows it too, he knows that sooner or latter he will have to talk to you. It drives you both crazy when you're in the same bed still, but back turned, in complete silence.

"How long do you think you can keep this up? Yes, you. I haven't been avoid- ah, I guess I have, a little. Look, I... I feel like if we don't talk about this, it's not go away on its own. Might take longer but... I'm being dumb? Well what about you? I thought you wanted your space? Too much of it huh? I can fix that. I'm not distracting you, I miss you."

The moment he gets his hands on your body, his lips on yours he can't get enough. It's like he's never kissed you before, like he's feeling these things for the first time, you arching against him, you sighing against his mouth and moaning his name as you try to get him as close as possible without seeming too needy for him. He missed you too, a whole lot and he's not holding back when it comes to showing you just how much.

"This isn't exactly an apology but I think it's a nice start don't you? Don't give me that look now, you like it too. I can make it better, if you want. Let's say, for every thing we manage to hash out we give each other a kiss. A little reward for us working out our issues."

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talaok · 1 year

Note

I don’t know why this request popped into my head but Spencer wanting to get BAU reader flowers for Valentine’s Day but they’re working and the team don’t know about them yet so Spencer, the sweetheart he is, he’s like ok I’ll just get all the girls flowers. And the girls are like wow that’s so sweet but Morgan’s like ‘funny, you didn’t do this last year, or the year before, why now?’ And just becomes really suspicious and starts investigating lmao

I love this. you're a genius.

Flowers

Spencer had been nervous about it for the whole week.

He knew it was stupid, but you know that voice in your head that keeps reminding you that it isn't stupid and that you should worry, probably even more than you're doing now because this is a huge fucking deal even if it's really not?

well,

that voice had had the best of him.

He had thought about it for a long time,

about all the possibilities and the related outcomes,

he had thought about surprising you later, after work, but then again, that meant seeing you at the office and having to pretend like he had forgotten, hence, hurting your feelings.

so that was a no.

He even thought about not coming into work, just make up some excuse to hotch and not show up.

but that didn't feel right,

and so it had come to the last possibility,

The best way to hide something is in plain sight, right?

__ __ __

he was sweating.

it was ridiculous how much he was actually stressing over this, but still, there he was, his forehead glistening, his tie too tight around his throat, and four diffrent bouquets in his hands,

well, not exactly diffrent,

only one of them was,

the most important one,

and he had already thought of the excuse as to why it was y/n's,

he was gonna say the truth,

or better, part of it.

See the thing was that he knew her favorite flowers,

Dahlias, she loved dahlias,

pink ones to be exact,

he remembered the moment she had told him, that day at the park, the sun shining on their faces, as their bare feet brushed the fresh grass,

He remembered finding it interesting that she would choose a flower that's also the symbol of one of America's most famous unsolved murders, and he recalled her turning to him, and as if she had read his mind telling him that she liked the flower even more because of that,

"it's not fair that just because one case has been named the black dahlia then all of the sudden all of those amazingly wonderful flowers lose their beauty. That's not how it works. The dahlia is only more beautiful now because even after all that, she remains unfazed, and so does her beauty"

And he remembered having kissed her,

because if there was one person able to think that way,

it was her.

And so she obviously had bought her those, while for the rest of the women he had opted for some red roses,

witch to the untrained eye may have looked like a much more romantic option, but trust me, after all those comments about how much she hated them, Spencer had got the hint she didn't like them.

Ding

The elevator's door opened

Ok, it's fine Spencer, it's fine, you can do this.

he took a deep breath as he pushed open the glass doors, immediately noticing the team already in the conference room.

He inhaled and exhaled deeply once more before entering the room.

"oh wow" Jj immediately commented, eyeing the flowers

"pretty boy" morgan grinned "you're really showing off huh?"

He felt his cheeks warm, but smiled nonetheless, everyone else was.

He could feel your eyes on him, and as he glanced at you, just as he had expected, he took in the twitch of your lips as they turned up in that cute way they always did, and his heart skipped a beat.

"well" he cleared his throat "since it's valentine's day I wanted to do something nice for all the wonderful women of the office" he explained "and even though, as a recent study showed, chocolate is the most common gift, In fact, approximately 48% of people who celebrate valentine's day gift chocolates" he stopped a moment to noticed every amused or questioning expression staring back at him, before continuing" but, anyway, I liked the idea of flowers better, "he smiled shyly "so- yeah" he looked down at the bouquets as he turned to his left "Emily, this is for you," he said, handing the roses to her, and earning a big smile and thank you from Prentiss, "JJ, "he said walking up to her "happy valentine's day," he said as she took the flowers "thank you" she grinned at him "I hope Will isn't gonna be jealous" she joked, and spencer laughed softly before finally turning to you.

The moment your eyes met, something traveled between them, a mutual understanding, a mutual sparkle going from him, straight to you.

"And these are for you y/n," he said "happy valentine's day"

You smiled, looking down at the flowers "dahlias"

"How could I forget?" he blushed, and you couldn't help but throw your arms around his neck, hugging him tightly, as you closed your eyes, lost in his scent.

"thank you Spence" you whispered, before remembering where you were and reluctantly leaning away, he was beaming when you did, and your heart warmed.

"are the other ones for my baby girl?" Derek asked, and spencer frowned, confused before realizing, "oh- yes, they're for Penelope" he said"I actually wanted to give them to her now if it isn't a problem" he turned to Hotch, and he nodded slightly before saying "make it quick" to witch spencer immediately answered "absolutely" before starting towards the door

"wait"

he turned around

"I'll come with you" you said before you could stop yourself

__ __ __

"so that was.." morgan chuckled

"what? it's nice" Emily came to his defense

"yeah Derek what are you talking about?" jj chirped in

"Rossi? Hotch?" he turned to them

"I think he's just jealous his baby girl is getting flowers from another man" Emily joked, making jj laugh

"what you don't find it even a bit weird?" he was facing Rossi now, who shrugged, " if there's one thing all my wives have taught me is that women love flowers"

JJ and Emily laughed softly at that

"hotch?"

"I think it's nice"

Derek sighed deeply "yes but doesn't anybody find it a little strange that he only did it this year?"

"Derek-" JJ shook her head

"What, we've been working together for 5 years, and now all of a sudden he gifts roses on valentine's day? You can't tell me that's strange"

There was a moment of silence

"maybe he just wanted to do something nice" Hotch intervened

"yes but why now?" Morgan asked "don't tell me you haven't asked yourself that"

Emily sighed "Even if you're right, even if it's strange. What are you tryna say?"

"I'm just saying there has to be a reason, that's all" he explained, sitting on his chair

"like what?" emily asked

"i dunno"

another moment of silence

"well he has been acting weird lately" JJ spoke up, and the whole room turned toward her

"Weird how?" Hotch asked, seemingly worried

"Nothing big he's just been busy a lot that's all" she shrugged " we haven't hung out in a while because he has always someplace to go to"

"yeah that's true" Emily agreed "even last night he said he had something to do didn't he?"

"yup"

"Maybe the kid just goes to a new chess tournament " Rossi joked

" I knew something was up" Derek mumbled

"but it still doesn't make sense. What does he blowing us off have to do with the flowers?" JJ asked

Derek's mind worked fast as he pieced all the clues together, all the glares, blushes, and smiles finally coming together.

"well," he got up again "who do you give gifts to on valentine's day?"

"your partner"

"Exactly" he nodded "but what if, and this is hypothetical, you couldn't give them to them directly because let's say nobody knows about you two. Then what do you do?"

Emly chuckled "you give them to everyone else too"

"Exactly" Derek grinned

"wait" Jj waved her hand in disbelief "are you saying-?" she couldn't even finish the sentence and just pointed blankly at your seat

Derek raised his eyebrow "I mean it would make sense wouldn't it?"

Emily smiled "it sure would"

"let's not get ahead of ourselves " Hotch intervened "this is all just speculation, it could all still be just a nice gesture"

"Hotch's right "Rossi agreed "we can't be sure of anything"

And just as he pronounced those words you and Spencer walked through the door, and as much as they were all trying to be professional, and respecting of whatever privacy you might have wanted,

it was very hard not to notice the pink on both your cheeks, or the way your lips looked somehow a lot more swollen than before, and spencer's collar definitely not as straight as it was just a few minutes before.

And what was even harder to not notice, was the big beautiful bouquet of red roses Spencer was still holding.

Derek grinned way too smugly as he witnessed everyone around the table come to the same conclusion he had just moments before,

and as Spencer finally spoke over the terrifying silence, asking "What's up?" He couldn't help but respond "nothing" he eyed the bouquet he was still holding "We were just talking about how much Penelope likes roses"

#spencer reid #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid Criminal Minds #spencer reid fluff #Criminal Minds #Criminal Minds Fanfiction #criminal minds x reader #spencer reid x fem!reader #spencer reid x y/n #spencer reid fanfiction #spencer reid fic

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padfootdaredmetoo · 4 months

Text

Tell Me Lies

Tommy Shelby X Wife Reader

Request for @luvlesavyy

Request: What if Thomas found himself in a sticky situation? What if he had to be compelled to pretend that he had betrayed his beloved wife, whom he holds dearly in love with, in order to protect her and their child? What if Tommy received life threatening letters from his gems? He lies to his wife, tells her he cheated on her, all this to keep them away from the harm he can bring to their lives... How would this story end? Would she forgive him after he found the letters, threatening her and her firstborn's lives, in Tommy's office drawer?

(They spent a week apart, and she had constant back pain, Polly said she was pregnant. Now what? Pregnant, with the love of her life, who "cheated" on her. Wonder what she's going to do about it? Will you tell Tommy when you discover the letters?).

Hey love,

Sorry this took so long but I didn't forget about you. I've never been the kind for the silent anger type of thing. Changed a few of the details around but I hope you enjoy this <3 Thanks for being so wonderful!

Warnings: pregnancy, cheating, screaming, passing out, hitting, biting, extreme anger & the usual peaky themes

Tommy was used to the bitter taste of whiskey doing absolutely nothing to calm his nerves. He stares at the telephone wishing that he had just imagined the phone call he had received. He pulled a red package of documents out of the top drawer of his dresser. He had finally been advised to open it. Now that he knows what is being asked of him he wants nothing more than to throw it in the fireplace.

For the first time, he really felt that he was flying too close to the sun. Everything he had started was for his siblings and aunt, now every day was for his wife and child.

How could he turn his back on all of them, on you, even for a second? What could he say to you that would keep you away? If he told you the truth, then Polly and Esme would be dragged into it and all of a sudden it would be a family trip to Austria. His stomach gave a lurch and he put his head in his hands.

He had to lie to you.

He would have to tell you something horrible so you would let go of him for the week-long mission. Then he could come crawling back with the papers as evidence. Sure, he would spend the rest of his life on the couch in his study, but at least you would be safe, at least you would still be his.

He could try to refuse.

How many wives and children would die if he did? Would you want to be married to that man? Looking at the papers in the file it was his own family on the chopping block if he refused.

“Fuck” He swore slamming his hands against his desk.

______________________________________________________________

“What’s wrong.” You said looking at him with sharp eyes. You could tell just by the way he held himself that he had gone and done something stupid.

“I have to go away for a bit.” His eyes were focused on you in a way that made it hard to look away.

“Why?”

“I can’t tell you.” He said firmly and you could tell your husband wanted you to accept this answer.

“I’m your wife. Spit it out, Tommy.” You said crossing your arms. You hadn't been in this position since you were dating. Once married in you were at every meeting, involved in every dollar, and every conflict. Okay, you weren't directly involved in every conflict but you helped out in areas that weren't covered with gunfire.

“Look, something's come up and I need to see to it, I really don't want to -”

“I don’t care what you want Thomas. Do what’s right and tell me.” The anxiety was starting to bubble up and turn into rage the way it always did. You hated when people lied to you.

“I got a phone call last night. Someone I may have had an entanglement with has had a child. She’s saying it’s mine.” The words fell between you and you knew something was off. You assumed he was just hiding the juicy details of his affair. Now a child is out there. Whose child would he father? His wife’s or his mistress?

You stood there feeling a familiar hysteria build up inside you. This time you didn't have to push it down. Charlie was with Esme and the cousins for the night. You could make him pay.

The feeling started to radiate into your limbs and you were freed from your initial shock. You picked up the crystal vase on the side table beside the couch. You threw it at him.

Head on where he was sitting at his desk. He narrowly missed it. His eyes flared with shock. You picked up every single thing you could reach and threw it at him. He stood up and charged towards you and you welcomed it.

You wanted him to hit you first. You wanted blood. It was your turn to cause trouble. He tried to grab your arms and you smacked his chest as hard as you could. He got his arms around you and you bit into his shoulder hard enough to draw blood. Hope his mistress likes that scar.

You screamed at him. You told him every single bad thing you could think of. You told him he was the reason the family was cursed. That his mother killed herself to get away from him. You screamed your own curse on his life.

You screamed and screamed until you cried. A deep sob that unraveled years of strength. Everything you had done for this family, just to be replaced as Lizzie once said you would be.

This was beyond anger and betrayal. This was beyond human. You felt your mind become otherworldly and your vision narrowed in. The blackened edges of your vision collided and you weren't screaming anymore. You had dissolved into nothingness and it was blissful.

______________________________________________

You woke up and he was gone. The family was in complete chaos over the news. Arthur was actually crying on and off, apologizing for his stupid little brother. He and John held the business together under Polly’s direction.

Polly eventually sat you down and told you the news once everyone had come to say they were sorry and how they would be helping. It was like being a widow at a funeral.

A pregnant widow.

“You're joking.” You took in a sharp breath. “And that is not very funny at a time like this.” Your voice was high and she grabbed your face with two hands.

“It’s not a joke. You’ll be fine.” Her eyes were so intense it put you at ease.

Esme reassured you and decided to stay with you at Arrow House for a while. The kids were used to being lumped together and they had no problem looking after themselves for the most part. Charlie was 6 so he didn't have a hard time keeping up with his cousins.

The two of you rot in bed and she did what she could to keep your blood pressure from rising. You could see it in her eyes though, she was pissed as hell and you were sure she would make Tommy feel it too when the time came.

If he ever came back. Your heart gave a painful clench and while you were alone in the bath there was no one to judge you for crying. It was a soft moment you allowed yourself. It felt shameful, it felt like letting him win. It was stupid but you felt like you were just a girl getting your heart broken again. This time it felt final. Your heart would not survive this.

But your family loved you. That was obvious from the cooked meals and even Arthur was around helping with the kids at bedtime. You could hear him and John reenacting all the monsters they fought when they had lived on the boat as kids. You even caught yourself laughing a few times at the wild stories.

It was almost a week since that night and you were starting to feel just as betrayed but you had your head back on your shoulders. In the middle of the night, you decided to see if this woman had written him any letters. You weren't sure why but you were obsessed with finding out who this woman was. Why could she steal him away from you so easily when you had done nothing but give him everything?

You went into his study and shut and locked the door. While you turned the latch you wondered where they had sex? Was it here? The office? The backseat of his car? The rage started to bubble up again and a hand went to your stomach. You took some deep breaths thinking about what a divorce would mean.

His - scratch that, your family would still love you. You would get to pick a new house and decorate it however you wanted. Fill it full of books and do nothing other than look after Charlie and read. You took another big breath and moved over to his desk.

You pulled open the drawers in his desk and started to pick through everything. You knocked on the bottom of the first drawer when you saw that the woodwork didn't quite line up. You remembered from all your spy novels that it could have a false bottom. You grabbed a letter opener and started to pry it open.

It came loose with a pop and you pulled out lots of extra copies of passports and documentation for your family. A cold shudder ran through you. You picked up your fake passport to see that he had named you, Arbella Shelby, maiden name Sutherland. You let out a snort as that was a character in a Highlander romance novel you adored. Why would he remember something so stupid when he was plowing another woman the whole time.

You reached into the hidden compartment a little further and pulled out a red envelope. It was made with very expensive card stock. You opened it and read through the document carefully.

He had been sent away to aid in the assassination of an English spy hiding in Austria.

Your brain hurt and you took another few breaths and kept reading.

It only got worse. Any outside interference would result in death. Failure to complete the mission would result in his death. Failure to accept the assignment and the government will move forward with prosecuting the remaining members of the Shelby family for acts against the crown. You read down the list of names and ran a finger over your name, following it was the rest of the family. You also noticed that Esme and John’s older kids were on the list.

He needed to leave without us going to find him.

He lied to protect you.

It got hard to breathe and you had to try and remain calm. You let out a weird sort of choking sound then threw up into a plant pot. Polly found you moments later.

“Breathe.” You let her grip your shoulders and tried to follow her breathing but your vision went dark again and you were out.

_______________________________________________

When you woke up Polly was pacing the room and shouting at someone in a hushed voice.

“You should have told us.” She hissed. “What if something had happened to you.”

“Churchill would have sent the news. Then she would know what had happened.” Tommy answered in a low and steady voice. He sounded exhausted.

“What if you had failed! They would have shipped us off to jail again.” She snapped. “She almost lost the baby over this mess Thomas.”

“Only if I had refused the job,” Tommy answered and he sounded so tired. You opened your eyes and watched them stare each other down.

“Promise me it won't happen again.” You mumbled.

“I wish I could.” He closed his eyes and looked positively exhausted.

“Let me talk to Churchill.” Your whisper still conveying your anger. Tommy gave you a big smile. You finally registered how battered his face was.

“I have papers saying you lot won't be used as collateral again.” He held his whiskey glass up to his cheek.

“Tommy, if i thought that the family and our children would get killed I would manage to stay away.” You said knowing that tears were starting to spill down your cheeks. Polly took in a breath and you knew she was going to lay into him properly now that you were awake.

“I’m sorry.” He said simply. His eyes opened and locked on yours. You knew he meant it. Shock crossed Polly’s face.

“I didn't think you knew those words.” She said waving her hand in the air.

“Okay.” You said not wanting to be apart for a moment longer. There was ringing in your ears and you knew he was sorry. You knew he wouldn't do it again. Tommy was a lot of things, but he never hurt you the same way twice. He always learned from his mistakes.

You started taking some deep breaths trying to get your head to stop throbbing. Esme came through with a mug of tea and Tommy put his drink down to help you into an upright position.

“Tea will help with the headache.” She said her eyes darting to Tommy.

“Esme?” He said calmly.

“What.” She answered looking skeptical.

“Thanks for looking after her.” He held her gaze and she nodded at him. The rest of the family piled in and discussed the events of the past week. The tea brought the ringing in your ears and the throbbing in your head down to a normal level.

Charlie came through and climbed up on his father's lap. Tommy’s arm fit around him and he continued talking about what needed to happen moving forward when dealing with Mosley.

You had hope for his cause. You rested in his arms and found your way back to him out of the darkness that had been threatening to swallow you.

#tommy shelby imagine #peaky blinders #tommy shelby #peaky blinders imagine #thomas shelby #thomas shelby x reader #tommy shelby x reader #peaky blinders request #peaky blinders fic

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norrisleclercf1 · 9 months

Note

pierre and reader who were childhood besties but he cuts ties with her to keep her safe but she gets hurt.

like i imagine they had those pretend weddings and printed out a fake marriage certificate and someone finds it and thinks they are actually married so they hurt the reader.

and pierre flips cus he literally left her to protect her but she still got hurt

A/N: See this is marriage, when you're having a shitty day and your wifey sends me this golden piece

"Will you just grow a pair; we need to find the information." A man hisses, standing in the pitch-black house. They shouldn't be in this house, no one was home, and the owner would not be so forgiving if they found out they were here. "Shut up, you fucker; the only reason we're here is because the boss said so." Creeping down the hallway, they have to be careful.

While this house had no one living in it for a while, they didn't know what type of security it would have. Breaking into the leader of the French Mafia was not brilliant, but they needed something against him. Studying the layout beforehand, they just needed to find the office.

They could use old papers or personal information. Reaching the door, they stopped waiting in case they could hear any ticks or anything to let them know if there were traps. Hearing nothing, they throw their bodies against the door, breaking it.

"Search everywhere." Nodding, the two men go off looking for a picture or a piece of paper with a name on it. One of the men stops, seeing a lock on a drawer. Taking their hammer, they knock it off and stop. "The fuck, he's married?" The other man laughs. "He's not." Reaching in, he pulls out the scrapbook.

"Really? Because this is filled with wedding pictures of him and some chick." Flipping through the pictures, he stares at the young face of Pierre Gasly and some girl in a white dress. "They look young." And they're right. The pictures were taken when you and Pierre were preteens.

It was one of those silly we'll get faked married and then promise to marry each other for real. Pierre was the first boy you loved, like truly loved in an all-consuming way. It was stupid, but you didn't know the future. It didn't realize that Pierre would stop talking to you and drop off the face of the planet. You last spoke years ago but kept the pictures and fake marriage certificates.

Sadly, the two dumbasses now in the office didn't know they were fake; to them, they found the holy grail of breaking Pierre Gasly.

--------------------------------------------------------------------------

"Yes, I'm home." Balancing your phone to your ear as you jam the keys into your apartment door. "Mama, stop. Paris is safe alright, no one followed me, and I'm about to enter my apartment. Please calm down." This was a daily thing, talking down your mother as you walked from work to home.

She hated that you lived in the big city, wishing you stayed home. But Paris has been safe for many years, and it was no worry to you. Walking in, you drop your purse, kick off your shoes, walking to the windows. Your cat, Eclair. The damn cat Pierre got you as a "wedding gift" was still alive. It reminded you of fonder times.

"Mama, I'm safe. It's just me and Eclair here. I'm hanging up." Ending the call, you groan, rubbing the tips of your fingers over Eclair's back. "It's not just you and Eclair here." Gasping, you spin around, coming face to face with a man in a mask. "Tell Pierre we say hello." Raising his arm, something heavy whips across your skull. You didn't even make it to the floor before passing out.

----------------------------------------------------------------------------

The harsh cleaner smell hits you first, then the feeling of your skull splitting open. Noises leave your mouth, and you want to move your arms, but your body is so heavy it's like lead. "Ow." Throat is tight, so dry from no water or talking for a few days.

"Mhmh." Blinding lights have you blinking fast. Eyes adjusted to the darkness, now facing the light worsens the pain. Yet you fight against it, ears ringing, and finally, settle on the beeping to your right. The blurriness fades away as you take in the pristine white of the room.

You're alive.

Eyes float around the room, taking in everything, but a splash of color has your attention. Dirty blonde hair and tan skin against the black outfit have you squint. You don't know anyone who would dress or look like this. Maybe a cop? Waiting for you to wake up to ask about the attack?

"You're awake?" That voice didn't belong to a cop; no, it belonged to someone you haven't seen for what seems like a lifetime. "Pea-Pierre?" You have to stop the slip of the nickname. The body stands as it moves over to your side, leaning over. Those blue eyes, you dream of those blue eyes.

"I'm here, ma femme." You make a noise, something of a laugh, which has him smiling, his fingers hanging off the railing, touching the cloth wrapped around your head. "Don't talk. They did some damage." Something in those soft blue eyes has them hardened in the corners. No one else would notice, but you have stared into those eyes and learned everything about them.

"I want to apologize, but I can't. I left to protect you, yet my leaving left you unprotected in a way I never imagined. They went after you to get to me." Pierre smiles, seeing how your face morphs, wanting to ask questions, yet you can't. "I can't tell you why," Reaching down, he clasps your hand in his, pressing a feather touch of a kiss to them.

"But, when you get out. You're coming with me, then I'll tell you everything. Just sleep." You hate that you can't fight, but sleep is dragging you down, slipping you back into the darkness you've grown accustomed to.

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restinslices · 3 months

Note

I love your stuff so much, could you write something with the reader getting jealous about Smoke? Someone getting a bit too close to him and the reader feels bad about it. And Tomas finds out and comforts her, finding it endearing.

And I love you💕 Idk why this was kicking my ass so bad. I did two drafts and idk if I like this but this is all I got😔

Word count: 1476

Tomas was not entirely stupid.

Sure he had moments where he'd made something that should've been simple, incredibly complicated but he wasn't stupid. He didn't think so at least.

Anyone who's been around him for the past week might disagree though.

Tomas had just returned from a mission along with his brothers, and naturally he was telling you all about it. If you were being honest with yourself, you weren't really listening. Tomas tended to ramble and his missions were usually the same as the last, so it was best to let him go on and on but still add commentary here and there. “Wow”, “Really?”, “No you didn't”, and other side comments would hold him.

Your ears perked up and you started to listen more when he started mentioning women.

It's not that he couldn't speak to other women or he couldn't have female friends, you weren't that crazy. It was just the way he was describing them. Great fighters, moving with the wind, long flowy hair that danced in the sun. It was compliment after compliment, and as much as you hated to admit it, it made your heart squeeze.

“Wanna tell me how they all looked in detail?” You said sarcastically. You expected Tomas to hear your sarcasm, realize what was wrong, apologize and keep telling his story. Instead he just chuckled and said

“Then we'd be here all day”.

Unfortunately for you, the day got worse.

Another woman whose name you hadn't memorized was all over him. Giggling at jokes that weren't nearly as funny as she pretended they are and finding any reason to touch him.

You should've said something. You should've communicated your feelings. That's how relationships are supposed to work.

But you didn't.

On one hand, you thought you had every reason to be jealous and if Tomas actually cared for your feelings, then he would've picked up on this and apologized. On the other hand you thought you were being unreasonable. Tomas couldn't help if some ditzy bitch liked him. Plus, you never told him how you felt, so you couldn't be mad at him for not understanding. In the same breath though, why didn't he tell her to get off of him and why did he feel it was necessary to describe how great these other women he met were?

You were arguing with yourself for a solid week, and each day that devil on your shoulder got louder. After all, if Tomas did care about how you felt, he'd stop entertaining that girl. Everytime she was near, you left. Didn't you absence bother him?

But once again, that damn angel got in the way telling you to just be honest with him. He'd understand. How can you be mad at something you hadn't communicated upsets you?

But communication came with shame. How would you look telling Tomas that you got a little butt hurt about him talking about other girls and a girl that kept flirting with him? He'd either understand, or he'd be upset. That's how relationships fell apart, right?

No. It was the lack of communication.

Maybe?

“I'm gonna throw myself down the stairs” you mumbled.

“Why?” he asked.

You somehow forgot he was there. You and him were in charge of washing dishes for the week, but neither of you had been talking.

“I just hate washing dishes” you said, not completely lying.

It went silent again, the only thing filling the air being the sounds of you washing and him rinsing.

Then that silence was broken.

“Are you ignoring me?” he asked. You didn't know how to answer. You didn't mean to ignore him. You were just in your head a lot.

You didn't answer and he sighed. “Did I do something?”

“No” you answered without thinking. It was a reflex at this point. Tomas over thought things a lot and you'd have to remind him not everything was on him. Telling him he wasn't at fault was natural, but you weren't sure who was at fault now.

“I mean… I don't know. It doesn't matter”

“It does to me”

“Does it?”.

You closed your eyes and breathed slowly. You were being way too harsh and you knew it. Tomas was asking you to share what was going on in your head, and you were saying no?

You opened your eyes again. Your mouth opened a few times, trying to figure out how to put what you were feeling but it never felt right.

“I don't know how to get this out. It doesn't even make sense in my head. It won't make sense out loud”

“Just say it anyway and I'll ask you questions if I'm confused”. You wondered how Tomas was so good and patient and wondered if he learned that from one of his parents. Or maybe his sister. Either way, you mentally thanked whoever he learned from.

“Ok so, I just feel- no. No, I should explain first in chronological order. You came back and then… actually that sounds really accusatory”. You groaned and looked over at him “can you just tell me to shut the fuck up”.

He smiled a little and shook his head. “I wanna hear it. We have all day”.

“It's late at night. That is not true”. He didn't respond and he wouldn't until you confessed whatever you were thinking.

“Chronological order then…”, after some more stumbling and backtracking you managed to get it all out. Why you were jealous, when it started, how conflicted you felt and how ashamed you felt for being jealous in the first place. The whole time he just listened, nodded, and furrowed his brows at some parts. You couldn't tell if it was confusion or anger.

“I didn't mean it that way” he said when you were done. “When I said 'then we’d be here all day’. I just meant there was a lot of them, which I realize now still sounds bad but I didn't mean it in some 'they were just too beautiful’ way. I didn't hear your sarcasm”

“And I just kept conversation with her to be nice. I don't know. I didn't wanna seem rude”

“Being rude can go a long way”

“I guess. And I noticed your absence, I just didn't know why. I figured you needed space for whatever reason, so I didn't bother you”

“I think it's impossible for you to bother me”.

Once again, he smiled and let out a small laugh. You looked back down at the soapy water and that's when you felt like a complete idiot. You were worrying him when you could've been had this conversation.

“I'm an idiot”

“I don’t think so” and you could tell by his voice that he was smirking. “I think you're just really in love with me”

“Ok buddy”. You rolled your eyes, even if he was right.

“It's cute”

“It's embarrassing”

“Loving me or-”

“Being jealous. I haven't been that jealous before with anyone else”

“I'm not like anyone else”

“You're white. You're quite literally like everyone else-” Tomas flicked water your way, some of it getting in your eye.

“I'm gonna kill you”

“You wouldn't. You'd get jealous over the Grim Reaper”. You frowned but he kept smiling that stupid smile that was both loving and antagonistic. Then he laughed. A nice heartfelt laugh that ended up making you crack a smile.

“Are you smiling because I'm laughing?”

“Absolutely not”, you lied.

“You really got a thing for me”

“I've never met you a day in my life”

“That's even more embarrassing then if you're that in love with me”. You went to make another smart comment, but he bumped his shoulder against yours “hey”, he said softly. So soft it threw you off guard. “I think it's cute. You're like a little guard dog”.

“Were you dropped on your head as a baby and now your social cues are scrambled? A guard dog? I'd prefer if you stabbed me. Here-”, you went to grab a knife but he caught your hand. Any other time you would've hated this. Both your hands were soaking and something about the feel of that made you skin crawl, but you guessed you could deal with that.

“I think it's cute that you love me so much. I just wish you'd be more honest about what you feel. I was worried”.

You cringed. You supposed that was your fault. You and your dumb brain making shit complicated, which is something you swore was more of a Tomas thing.

“I'll be better. I promise. I'll start now”

“Now?”

“Now. The texture of you wet hand makes me wanna die. Please unhand me”. He couldn't help but laugh as he let you go, and you couldn't help but laugh as well.

You didn't know what you were laughing at.

You were just happy to be laughing together.

Finally getting back to requests. The crowd goes wild. Tumblr has this big space between lines so I cannot tell if the format is weird and I should add more space or if I’m tweaking. Oh well.

#mk1 #mk1 2023 #mortal kombat 1 #tomas vrbada smoke #tomas vrbada #tomas vrbada x reader #tomas vrbada fluff #smoke x reader #smoke x you #mk1 smoke

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creedslove · 29 days

Note

https://www.instagram.com/reel/C5g5rRaK4BU/?igsh=MTRiMnlzd3NkM2JtYg==

I love Javier Peña and Angst 😭💔❤️

Javier Peña x f!reader

A/N: bestie, you altered the chemistry of my brain with this video, I loved it very much and I love angst too!!! So excuse me while I do a little something here ❤️

• Javier Peña didn't do relationships and that was it; he flirted, he took you out for a few dates and he fucked around, no matter if he was kind, sweet, and he seemed in love, he wasn't in love. He was just enjoying things - and you

• and he didn't count on, was the fact you feel for him, Javi wasn't cocky, but he knew it happened more than he'd like, but he couldn't help it, even if he made it clear he didn't do relationships, women still wanted that from him, all in the innocent and silly hopes they could change him

• when you ended up blurting out you were in love with Javi, he got all stiff, looking at you with a tense expression on his face, he cleared his throat and tried finding words to be honest as best as he could without being a disgusting prick and break your heart

"I'm sorry cariño, I don't do relationships"

• you swallowed hard and nodded, Javier might've not done relationships, but you certainly did not humiliate yourself for men of any kind

• you left his apartment and decided to cut ties with him, there was no reason to keep close and end up hurting yourself: he would always lure you into having sex and you'd be filled with hope only for having your heart broken once more, so you didn't call him anymore

• Javi even tried ringing you up once or twice, it was late at night and he felt horny, but you didn't pick up and he realized it was better that way, no further heartbreak for either of you

• the only real problem was he was having a hard time forgetting about you and letting you go; it was so stupid and pathetic, he wasn't like that at all, quite the opposite, he would easily move on until he found his next cariño to spend a couple of weeks with female companionship but still, all he could think of was you: your smile, your face, your body grinding against him, he dreamed of you; you were the last thing he thought of when he went to bed and the first thing that came to his mind when he woke up

• he really thought about going after you, but he felt embarrassed and shy to do so, instead, he tried letting go and kept on with his everyday life

• one evening, Javi felt like having a drink among people, he wanted to leave his apartment, flirt with beautiful women and perhaps take one of them home, everything was going alright for him until he scanned across the room and saw you, but you weren't alone, you were with a new guy

• he downed his glass in one sip, watching as it didn't seem you were on a first date: there weren't awkward conversations or weird body language, quite the opposite, you were giggling, flirting and that stupid jackass had his hand on your thigh

• he hated to see you biting your lips and giving that guy and not Javi himself that lustful look you often displayed at him

• Javier tortured himself by watching you and your new guy until he paid for his drinks and left without looking back

• you had seen Javier, but you made sure to pretend not to have acknowledged his existence, you still weren't over him, but you would try and be with someone who would really appreciate you, unlike Javier Peña

____

#pedro pascal #pedro pascal x reader #pedro pascal x you #pedro pascal x y/n #pedro pascal fanfiction #pedro pascal fanfic #pedro pascal headcanon #pedro pascal headcanons #javier peña #javier peña x reader #javier peña x you #javier peña x y/n #javier peña fanfiction #javier peña fanfic #javier peña headcanon #javier peña headcanons

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fandoms--fluff · 1 month

Note

Hi I was wondering if you could do a Damon x teenage reader but the reader sees Damon as a sorta father figure

Enough

Female teen Gilbert reader x Damon Salvatore

Warnings: bullying, ed, cutting, I think that's all

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

You're sat on his bathroom floor, thinking. Just two weeks ago you got back from Denver. Being compelled to move there because of your big sister, Elena, is one of the worst things that's ever happened to you. You were miserable there. The empty feeling after being forced to leave Mystic Falls never went away for those long months your and Jeremy were there for.

Your anxiety went through the roof, not being familiar with the place. And having to make new friends and meet new people.

But the worst was the bullying.

The kids at the high school there were cruel. They took one look at you on your first day and by lunch there were horrible rumors about you going around. Which you obviously hadn't told Jeremy about, not wanting him to worry about you or bother him with something as stupid as that.

The boys would come up to you, pretending to be interested, but then burst out laughing with their friends who were behind them when you looked even mildly interested in them.

The girls were the worst yet. Especially the one friend group of nine. They would come up to you in the hallway, during classes, during lunch, and even after school. They'd harass you, talk about your dead parents that has somehow gotten out, pretend to feel pity towards you, basically anything to make you rethink your existence.

They even made fun of your weight for a straight week, and the body you once loved, became something you hate. You hadn't consumed anything but water and maybe an apple here and there, just so no one would question anything. It wasn't until Jeremy brought up how pale you looked and started watching you more carefully at meal times did you start to eat more consistently.

But only a bit. Not enough a fifteen year old girl should eat per day.

Damon had fed you some of his blood yesterday. You had gotten hurt from one of the last remaining hybrids. The hybrid tried to suck you dry, but Damon had showed up in time to get you out of there and healed the bite mark and bruises on you.

You looked down at your wrists where there were cuts just a second ago before they healed, a razor laying on the ground in front of you. The blade littered with your blood and a couple drops on the floor underneath.

The blood must've been still on your system.

Again you picked the razor up and slid it across your wrist and fore arm causing a deep scratch releasing some blood. You kept on repeating this action before switching to the other wrist.

You had started cutting your wrists when you had gotten back, not knowing what to feel, and what to think is true or not. Always gave those girls and kids voices in your head. And not knowing how to act around Damon since you've learned he was the one to compel you. Someone who you trusted countless times before. You just don't know what to say or how to act around him. You've just done your best to avoid him.

Which had gotten kind of hard, considering you lived with him and his brother. Safer there than at your actual home. At least at the boarding house you didn't have the lingering memory of your parents.

Everyone thinks you're fine, you responded exactly how you knew they would want you to when they asked if you were okay. No one suspecting a thing. Except for Damon, yes he hasn't been the best person in the world, though he does care for you a lot, he can't tell exactly why, but he does. That's why it was so hard for Famon to compel not just Jeremy, but you as well to leave Mystic Falls to go to Colorado.

You had grown close to Damon after he came to town. You met him when Elena and Stefan brought you over to the boarding house to keep you safe for a couple of days while Jeremy was staying with Alaric. He immediately took a liking to you. You would just sit in the library reading one of the many old books for hours and when you weren't doing that you would be hanging out with him. You and gotten close fast.

Stefan and Elena didn't like it at much in the beginning, but came fonder of you guys having a friendship as the weeks went on. Damon had sort of mellowed out because of you. Not a lot, but some.

Damon can tell when there’s something going on with you and all he has to do is figure out why. Surely it can’t be about the trip. You'd say something to someone, or come to him or at least to talk to him about it a little right?

Damon is sitting on one of the couches in the main room with a glass of bourbon in his hand and the tv on playing re-runs of old sitcoms from the 70′s. He was carefully thinking of a way that he could get you to open up, in the end he came up with nothing before going into a daze.

It was getting later and you finally stopped cutting yourself feeling somewhat a little better. There are some littered left over cuts that hadn’t healed but you paid no attention to them. You took deep breathes before falling asleep, hoping to not have any nightmares tonight cause you don't think you can hold in the screams so Damon can’t hear you anymore like you had been holding them the past weeks. Before that you grasped one of his pillows bringing it towards your chest, hugging it tightly.

You've been having horrible nightmares about the school and the bullying and the others finding everything out and callig you a bay for how you reacted to the kids there. The nightmares have been taunting you and they won't go away, they've gotten worse every night.

Damon quickly jolted awake hearing screams coming from inside the house. At first he looks at his surroundings, the living room...he must of fallen asleep here. Then he listened and soon realized that those screams were coming from you.

Stefan isn't here tonight, and he hadn't told you at least where he was going to be.

Worried, Damon vamp sped upstairs to your room, surprised that your door is unlocked. He got closer to your screaming and squirming form, placing a hand on your shoulder.

"Y/n....come on wake up. It's just a dream.......Y/n?" Damon slightly shook you.

That only caused you to swing around to face him, still asleep but now hyperventilating. Damon started to shake you more cautiously now, who knew how hard it would be to wake you up from a nightmare. He'd never witnessed you having one before.

“Y/n/n Wake up!” After more shaking and talking to you, you finally sprung up, awake.

While you're trying to calm your breathing down, Damon twisted to his side and turned on the lap that’s placed on the nightstand.

“Damon? W-what are you doing in here?” you asked the vampire, confused as to why he was in his room.

“I heard you screaming because of a nightmare and I needed to know you were alright” Damon said softly and gently pushed you back down so you were lying down again.

“No, no y-you don’t care I-if I’m alright or not” you said looking away from him. Not having anyone beside Jeremy and maybe a few times Elena comfort you after a nightmare. And this was the worst possible one for Damon to be there for.

Damon had a hurt look on his face, but hid it before reaching his hand out and placing it on your shoulder. The action making you face him with dried tear streaks down your cheeks.

“Baby, of course I care about you. Yes, I may not have said it, but I do” Damon said gently and wiped the tear residue off your face.

“You do?” you mumbled with a tiny pout on your face from your dream and everything going on around you right now.

Damon nodded and pulled you into his arms, you immediately climbed into his lap and started to sob into his chest.

Damon ran his fingers up and down your back soothingly. He was surprised how fast you broke and hugged you closer to his chest, wanting you to feel safe.

After some time, you pulled back to look at him with teary eyes and your hands shaking. Damon gently grasped your hands to stop the shaking and looked down to see an angry red patch on your wrist. Bringing your wrists up closer to see, he rolled up the sleeves of your hoodie to show all of the unhealed scratches on you wrists and forearms.

“Y/n? Why would you?” Damon was at a loss of words.

You looked at him in the eyes, mouth parting, wanting to explain but just can't and not knowing how to.

"Y/n/n, you need to tell me what made you do this. Is it from Denver?" Damon asked more gently this time.

You nodded slowly with tears running down his cheeks.

"It w-was bad. K-kids made f-fun of me. St-starved myself. C-cutting myself helps t-take pain away fr-from me" you explained, whispering.

He quickly wrapped his arms around you again. You relaxed a little into the vampire, nuzzling your head into his chest before you started talking.

"Why don't you think I'm pathetic? You can be honest, we both know the answer is yes" You mumbled.

"Y/n, you are not pathetic, don't ever call yourself that again. You're enough, you're an amazing person, don't let anyone tell you otherwise. If anyone ever calls you pathetic again, you tell me and I'll make sure to raise hell on them." Damon explained and placed a kiss on top of your head which he's never done before.

That brought a small smile to your face and you mumbled out an 'okay'.

Damon is about to get up but you quickly wrapped his arms and legs around him tighter making sure he won't leave you alone.

"Don't worry baby, I wasn't going to leave I was just going to get into the bed so we can get a bit more comfortable than on the chair" Damon reassured you. You nodded, understanding and got off Damon, climbing into the bed. You moved over a bit so he could also get in. When Damon laid down, right away you cuddled into him, using a strong grip.

"Baby, promise me you won't ever cut yourself again and if you do have those thoughts just come to me and we can talk about it" Damon kissed the top of your head.

You looked up at him and nodded, "I promise" you mumbled and Damon smiled hearing your small words while you started to doze off on his chest.

"I love you Dee" You said right before falling into a deep sleep.

"I love you too, Baby" Damon responded, knowing full well that you couldn't hear him.

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wolfiesmoon · 5 months

Text

Dark chocolate

Reo x fem!reader

He could have anything he ever wanted, but the one thing he can't buy with money is your heart (can you tell this is yet another nerd girl x popular boy nuisances to mutual crush fic)

HAhah my blue lock debut🥳🥳🥳i'm making back to back fandom debuts

@noomon since you asked to be tagged (* ´ ▽ ` *)

It almost feels like he gets a new confession every day. It's safe to say he is very popular with the girls at this school. Even if it is for mostly shallow reasons.

Day after day, he receives a letter in his locker, asking him to meet behind the gym or something like that.

But the thing is, he isn't interested in any of these people. So he doesn't even give them the time of day.

The only one he's interested in is you, a girl in his class. But what is he to do when you never give him the time of day?

To you, Reo is a massive nuisance. You have no idea what made him like you and you don't care. Because the last thing you want is a stuck up rich boy as your boyfriend.

You came to this school to study and nothing more. You're not here to date or whatever else school isn't meant for.

(One exception is your singular friend.)

But no matter what, he never seems to give up on chasing after you. Even though there are far more beautiful and willing girls for him to date.

"Girl, just give him a chance. He's only got eyes for you." your friend nudged you as the two of you were eating lunch.

"And give in to him? Are you crazy?" you said with a straight face, continuing to eat.

"Oh, sorry. I only forgot that I'm friends with the most petty stubborn person in the world." your friend rolled her eyes, not understanding why you keep on rejecting Reo. He's rich, he's popular, so what's the hold up?

"Seriously, you're not 'giving in' to anything if you accept his confession."

"But I am losing my pride and my dignity. By the way, your food's getting cold." you replied simply, already getting a bit annoyed that your friend won't shut up about him.

"Girl, I lose hope in your romantic future every day."

"Good."

"Hi." he greets you at the school gate, as he does every day. And you ignore him, as you do every day.

"It's rude to ignore someone, you know that?" he joined you by your side and you just subtly rolled your eyes. You don't have time for this today, you have an early library study session to be getting to.

"My answer is no." you crossed your arms.

"I didn't even say anything, though." he gave you that stupid wide smile that you hate looking at so much. It's annoying how... uhh, above average his looks are.

"Would it kill you to stop bothering me?" you finally asked what you've been wanting to for the past few months. You have no idea how it took you so long to be harsh and honest about your feelings.

"What? I'm not bothering you." you had no idea if he was actually this dense or just pretending to be. You don't know him all too well, after all. But considering the fact that he's a student at this prestigious prep school, you think it's the second one. Unless his parents bribed the school to let him in.

"Seriously? Just leave me alone. I am not interested." it kind of felt good to admit that out loud. Directly, with no sweetened phrases to lessen the blow.

He looked away for a second. "Sorry, it's not that easy."

You looked puzzled. His tone didn't suggest arrogance or smugness. It was a quieter and thoughtful tone, something that doesn't seem fit for a stuck up rich boy.

How... strange. No, wait, what do you care?!

"You're... different. Unlike any other girl in this school." the strange tone still remained.

"Yeah, yeah, whatever you say." you sped up your steps, leaving him behind. You missed the worried look that crossed his face for a moment. To you, those words must have seemed like empty flirty comments.

But he meant it. You're a challenge to win over. To win over. Not take. You're the one girl in this school who won't just throw herself at him and somehow, that made him fall for you beyond belief.

Seeing as all you do is study and occasionally share a few words with your friend, he had a feeling boys weren't a priority for you from the very beginning.

But he'll make one boy a priority for you. Himself, of course. And he'll go through any means to achieve that goal.

"Girl, valentine's day is almost here!" your friend shook your shoulders, taking your attention from the notebook you were dutifully reading.

"So?"

"So, I am TOTALLY making chocolates for my crush and you should join me." she shook you again, making you furrow your brows in annoyance.

"Why? I have no one to give chocolate to."

Your friend smirked.

"No. No, absolutely not." you immediately shot her down, already knowing who she was talking about.

"Oh come on, you can still spend ungodly amounts of time studying while having a boyfriend. A hot rich boyfriend, at that." you weren't sure if she was doing this out of free will or if Reo was bribing her with copious amounts of money to get her to say this.

You sighed. You had a feeling your friend was going to be extra stubborn about this for the entire week leading up to valentine's day if you said no right now.

Your best choice was to resign to her and make chocolate for Reo.

And besides, you can just leave the chocolate on his desk anonymously if you come to school early. They don't mean anything to you, anyways.

"...Fine. But don't get any ideas, I'm only doing this because you would annoy me if I didn't." you raised the notebook back up, indicating the end of the conversation. You watched your friend jump with glee out of the corner of your eye.

"You should totally make dark chocolate for him." your friend suggested out of the blue as you were collecting the stuff you need to make chocolate.

"What does it matter?" you sighed, wondering what stupid reason your friend had this time.

"Dark chocolate seems more luxurious, don't you think? And besides, I heard that Reo isn't big into sweets. I'm sure he'd enjoy something healthier." she reasoned, seeming proud.

You pulled out your phone. "Hey, what are you looking at your phone for?!" your friend asked, offended that you aren't looking for the perfect meltable chocolate with her.

"Oh, nothing, just looking up the most sugary kind of chocolate." you shrugged.

"Damn, you're evil. Mikage-san's fallen for a baaaad one." your friend hit you lightly, feeling a little bad for Reo.

You looked at the meltable white chocolate on the store shelf, then at the meltable dark chocolate right next to it. You have no idea what possesed you in that moment, but your hand instantly reached for the dark chocolate.

You had to ignore your friend's smirking throughout the rest of the shopping trip.

"There! Ahh, these look so cute! All those tutorials helped out A LOT! My crush will totally fall for me after eating these!" your friend kept on gushing at the chocolates the two of you made.

"Mine are very sloppy." it was just a simple observation on your end, but to your friend it must have sounded like a discouraged comment.

"It's okay, girl! I'm sure he'll love them regardless of how they look!" she hugged you, patting your back encouragingly. Sadly, you don't have the heart to tell her that you'll just drop them off anonymously without a care in the world.

But, somehow... that seems wrong to you. Should you do that?

Dammit, this is all messing with your head. Who cares about Reo?! You're just doing this to appease your friend, nothing more.

"So, the day is finally here, huh?" your friend surprised you from behind just as you were about to leave the chocolate on Reo's desk.

"W-What are you doing here so early?" you quickly hid away the little box of chocolates, trying your best to act normally.

"Oooh, are we nervous?" your friend smirked.

"Speak for yourself. And answer my question while you're at it." you retorted, clearing your throat. That was far too close. But, how are you going to get rid of this chocolate without giving it to Reo directly and convincing your friend you did all at the same time?

Maybe you should just give up and do it. But your pride just won't let it happen. Not like this...

Later that day, you walked past Reo as he was receiving chocolates from two other girls. However, his eyes were on you the entire time. He seemed to be looking at you with expectation and you grit your teeth at the fact that he is, in fact, correct in expecting a valentine's gift from you.

As you turned the corner, your friend was waiting for you behind it. "What are you waiting for, girl? He's all alone now."

The girls that gave him the gifts seem to have already left. Oh no, this isn't good at all.

"Listen, I-"

"Oh hell no, you are not running away this time. Now go out there and make things happen!" your friend pushed you out from behind the corner, with you almost bumping into Reo.

"Hi!" he greeted you, a little more cheerfully than usual.

"Hello." you forced a smile. You silently took out the chocolate and handed it to him. You watched his eyes travel down to the chocolate and then widen.

"Wait... for me? Seriously?" He took the chocolate out of your hands, smiling happily. His cheeks seemed to be turning a pretty shade of pink, too.

His face isn't half bad when it looks like that, you must admit. Though, that doesn't mean anything. Reo's just handsome in general, that face is meaningless to you.

"Don't get any ideas. I'm only doing this out of obligation." you ignored the daggers being shot at you from behind. You can already imagine the earful you'll get from your friend.

"That just means I'll have to try harder, though." he gave you a big, wide smile. The kind that you've never seen on a guy in real life before. But to be fair, you don't look at guys all that much.

Still... Why is your heart beating so fast right now?

oh my god this turned into a whole essay LMAOOO

#˗ˏˋ ★ ♡ 「Wolfie’s other works」 ♡ ★ ˎˊ˗#blue lock #blue lock x reader #blue lock x you #blue lock x female reader #mikage reo x reader #reo mikage #mikage reo x you #reo x reader #reo x you #reo x y/n #bllk x reader #reo fluff #bllk x you #fem reader

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literaila · 2 years

Text

lean in, lean out

tasm!peter x fem!reader

summary: in which peter invites you to a wedding. as his girlfriend. which, evidently, you are not.

warnings: hahahaha, fake dating trope, pure fluff, peter is an idiot, reader is an idiot, we’re all idiots.

a/n: let me know how you like it!

"this is stupid."

despite the tone of your voice, despite the absolute death grip you've got on his hand, and despite all other things—

peter looks down at you. smiles that same irritating smile.

you know—the smile that makes your whole body feel... alive. the kind of smile that lights you on fire and doesn't apologize. no, you think. he's not sorry.

and he's really not.

"you're doing great," peter whispers, leaning a little bit closer to you. maybe just a little bit amused.

or a lot. it's hard to tell with how much you hate him right now. his encouragement is not welcome.

his breath on your skin and every stupid ounce of affection and appreciation—it’s not welcome.

"why do i even have to be here?" you ask him, between gritted teeth. his hand is warm in yours. rough. "you could've said i got food poisoning, or the flu. or maybe i was ziplining and the wire broke."

peter looks forward, but you see the little crinkle of his brows.

"that's a terrible excuse," he tells you, "you can't just start ziplining. you have to, like, take a course."

"because that's my biggest concern right now. the course i didn't take."

peter snorts, but is quick to cover it up with a cough, smiling at the people who turn to stare at him.

and at you with their evil eyes.

with their very nice smiles and wonderful table manners. their curiosity towards the man who, at the moment, is tickling your hand with his fingertips.

you try to smile at them.

you're supposed to be keeping your mouth shut, listening to the speeches.

you're actually supposed to be completely in love with peter.

which, you think, in the deepest, darkest part of your mind, isn't really that big of a stretch.

"can't we just get kicked out?" you mutter to him, pretending that you're not both playing footsie under the table. that you’re a mature adult and peter is a child you’re just babysitting.

you're winning, obviously.

"i don't think you can get kicked out of weddings..." but peter still looks around, like he's checking for a sign.

"you can if you snuck in."

peter looks at you again, sunken down in your seat and crossing your arms.

which is what you'd be doing if that was a part of your elegant girlfriend role.

instead, you're sitting up straight, pretending not to admire how the light catches his jaw--the little concave of his throat. pretending that you didn't stare at him the entire ceremony. nor that his suit has elicited an unfortunate reaction in your chest.

"luckily, we didn't sneak in." peter takes a sip of his water. he is deliberately avoiding your eyes.

maybe it's the guilt.

"yeah, yeah," you mutter, into your own glass—your only solace. "these people are your closest confidants. the people you'd want at your funeral, the ones who know you like no other—“

peter squeezes your hand. you can't tell if he's telling you to shut up, or thanking you.

you honestly can't tell if it's hot in here or if you're just sweating.

you contemplate chugging your water.

"shh," peter whispers, but he leans in close again. just enough that you can smell his soap--some kind of spice, some kind of ridiculously addicting smell that you can never quite place. he kisses your head, smiles at someone who is looking at you.

but you're staring at the floor.

you're really trying to keep the dumb smile off of your face.

there are spiders crawling into your brain and making you short-circuit.

"gotta have a wedding before a funeral. and," he says, teasing you, breaking the rules, "you're my closest confidant."

"how romantic."

peter moves back. it might be your tone of voice. he glances at you with a raised brow. "i thought this was stupid?"

"it is," you're quick to answer. quick to throw yourself off of the nearest building. quick to run out of here and pretend that you got eaten alive by wolves. "i'm just saying—if you want to trick all of your family members, might as well do a good job."

"i think we're a good couple," peter pouts like he's absolutely serious.

the words want to send sparks down your heart. they want to hurl bowling balls down your stomach.

but you refuse.

"this is stupid," you repeat, but this time, your lip twitches. if only minimally.

peter kicks your foot under the table. he opens his mouth to say something back.

but then everyone is clapping, peter is looking over to you—you with wide eyes and far too temperamental emotions—and laughing.

you must look shocked.

the bride's father steps down from the stage, voice echoing as he tries to collect himself.

peter pretends to wipe a tear away.

when you turn away from him—thanking whatever gods there are that everyone is focused on the stage and away from your glowing eyes—you pretend that you can't feel him smirking back at you.

"it's really not that big of a deal—“

you blink. you stare at him. you count to a million in your head, trying not to feel angry. or upset.

it doesn't work.

"you told your aunt that i was your girlfriend, and it's 'not that big of a deal?'" your poor imitation almost makes him laugh. almost.

"she already thought we were dating anyway—“

you think about strangling him. or kicking the chair out from under his feet. "may thought that you were dating the stupid library girl?"

"you're not stupid."

"i was talking about the library."

peter looks almost offended. "hey."

you roll your eyes. drop your head into your hands. his eyes are warm on you, and you know that he's not going to look away until you say something else.

until you agree to this stupid plan and pretend that the only reason he's okay with this is that he feels absolutely nothing for you—

it's not that big of a deal. really.

peter places a hand on your shoulder. when you don't look up, he sighs. and then promptly pulls your hands away from your face.

he is unbearably kind. smiling at you.

"peter..." you say, almost relenting. almost letting him win.

as if this was a game and you were a handy object he picked up along the way. just something to come in later.

"hey," he says, softly, still staring at you. he's never been afraid of eye contact. "if you want me to call her back and tell her that i lied, i will. i don't want to make you uncomfortable."

you'd like to mention that the only uncomfortable thing about any of this is how hard your heart bangs on your chest.

your head lands back in your hands.

peter pokes the bit of cheek he can still reach. you twitch.

"or i can tell her we broke up. that you broke up with me. you'd get a kick out of that." he nudges your shoulder.

you pretend that he didn't just slide his chair even closer to you.

you peek an eye at him. "i would enjoy breaking up with you."

"ouch." but peter's smiling. "seriously," he says. "you don't have to go."

you lean up, brows furrowed. "why don't you just find an actual date?"

you try to say it seriously. like you're not bitter at the prospect.

"having a first date at a wedding?" peter says, dryly. "no, thank you."

"you could, i don't know, try actually dating someone. it doesn't have to be the first date."

"i don't wanna date someone's," he's almost pouting. your lip twitches.

this statement is a lie, of course, but it fills your heart with a little unnecessary glee. something a little bit like relief. you want to dig a hand into your ribcage and rip your heart out just so you can scold it a little.

instead, you shake your head at peter. "then don't go with anyone. maybe you'll meet someone there. wedding romances are very popular this time of year.”

peter winces. "i know. it's just..." he blows a breath. runs a hand through his hair, only making it even messier. his sweater is bunched at his wrists. his glasses are hanging at the tip of his nose.

you want to lean in close to him and push them up.

you clench your fists.

"it's just what?"

"if i go alone then everyone will ask questions."

you frown. "questions?"

"yeah." peter sighs, avoids your eyes again. "and then they'll all give me those pitiful looks because 'poor peter he can't move on' and 'may said he was doing better.'"

you observe his face carefully, tiny pricks of anger hitting directly at your chest.

"it happens at every family event," peter laughs, looking back at you. "i… wanted them to see that i'm okay, for once. and you know i don't like answering questions."

you laugh. you move a little bit closer to him, maybe subconsciously. "you don't have to go alone," you say. maybe to him.

"i know," peter stares at you a second, smiles. "there's no one else i'd want to go with, though."

unsure if he's poking fun at you or being serious, you choose the safe option. the smarter one.

"i hate weddings," you declare to him, glaring.

peter laughs, head thrown back, teeth showing.

you feel a sense of pride. a tiny little branch growing in your chest—getting bigger.

peter shakes his head, because he knows you're lying. he's nice enough not to say it. "plus, may already likes you. no awkward introduction."

you raise a brow. "there wasn't any awkward introduction when i went home with you for thanksgiving."

"because she already liked you."

"you giving me glowing reviews, parker?"

he smiles. "no," tilts his head like he's hilarious. "may likes that you called me out on my bullshit."

you push him, frowning. "i'm very nice to you."

he rubs at his arm, still smiling at you.

and then there's a moment where the two of you just stare. just look in each other's eyes like you wouldn't rather be doing anything else.

you wouldn't.

but you know peter is waiting.

you take a deep breath in.

it might be his stupid smile. or his dimples.

it might be the way he's pleading with you--without his eyes, without even asking--like it's a secret that only you can keep.

"okay," you tell him. "but i'm going to eat all of the cake."

peter holds his hands out to you.

it's late enough in the night that the lights are dim. that his eyes are bright, illuminated by the fluorescents above your head. his smile is soft, his hands are big.

you frown. "what?"

"let's dance." peter says this like it's obvious. like what else would you rather be doing right now?"

you look down at the table, empty now. you look towards the dance floor, full.

"yeah," you drawl. "maybe not."

peter pouts. "you don't want to dance with me?"

his hand is still out, still perfectly intimidating.

"it has nothing to do with you, peter," you promise. "i don't want to dance with anyone."

"but you're a great dancer."

you point a finger at him. "there is no evidence of that."

"fall semester, last year."

"how very specific, peter."

he smiles. he waves his hand like he's very impatient. "c'mon, it'll look weird if we don't dance."

"you already look weird so i don't see the issue."

his free hand goes to his chest, in mock offense. you smile at him, so adoring.

"you dance around in my kitchen all the time."

"not in heels."

his face is blank.

"not after i've just eaten a bunch of wedding cake."

peter just stares at you.

"peter," you whine, feeling intimidated. but mostly worried about being any clsoer to him than you have been all night. "please don't make me."

"this is supposed to be fun."

you cross your arms. your neck has begun to ache from looking up at him.

"just one song," he makes a tiny little one with his finger as if that is going to convince you anymore.

"it's never 'just' with you."

peter crosses his heart. "scouts honor."

"that was a cross, not a pledge. and you're not a boy scout."

"i could've been," he sighs dreamily, looking up at the ceiling like he's got big goals. entire aspirations.

and then he looks down at you and smiles again.

and fine.

maybe you dance with him.

but it has nothing to do with his smile. you're merely trying to keep up appearances.

"when may calls you tomorrow and asks why your girlfriend hates you, just tell her—“

peter follows you as you stumble into the hotel room.

he flicks the lights on and sets your bag down in the hallway.

because he owes you, you just flop down on the bed. admiring how soft the sheets are. you lose track of your sentence.

"do you want to shower?"

"it is three in the morning, peter."

"yeah but you're all sticky."

you sit up in bed and look at him--peter who has now removed his blazer. who is quickly undoing his tie and staring at you like he's never looked at you before.

you look down at the sheets. rub your hands together because you're cold.

"are you saying that you don't want to sleep next to me because i smell bad?" you ask him, scrunching your nose.

peter slips his shoes off, laughing so quietly that you can barely hear it. he flops down next to you, looking up at the ceiling.

"i don't remember implying that."

you crawl closer to him, almost right above him. "it was written all over your face, parker."

"well," he smiles at you, more amused. maybe delirious. "it's not like i haven't shared a bed with you before."

you lay back, copying him. your hands rest at your sides, very close to his.

you blink. the white of the ceiling looks particularly interesting.

"it's too early to tell if that was an insult or not."

peter snorts. his laughter shaking the entire bed.

shaking your entire body from the inside out.

and then he groans as he leans up, stretching. you close your eyes, refusing to look at him.

refusing to notice how his shirt has ridden up his back and you can see an inch of soft warm skin.

refusing to notice how the bed already smells like him.

and the fact that you're supposed to sleep next to him, all night.

and that maybe dancing with him left behind some spare anxiety, crawling up your skin and massaging your neck.

you refuse anything.

when you open your eyes again, peter is unbuttoning his shirt.

"are you at least going to get in pajamas?"

"peter, these are pajamas."

he snorts. "really?" a shirt is thrown on the floor. a zipper can be heard from across the room. similar to your heart. "because i distinctly remember someone telling me that 'it was the most uncomfortable outfit ever' and 'not even satan would allow this.'"

you sit up, moving to cross your legs. maybe you stare at him a little. "what?" you gasp. "who would say such a thing?"

peter looks back at you and smiles.

it's quite possibly—in the realm of possibilities and three in the morning thoughts—the prettiest thing he's ever seen.

"here," he tosses you a shirt. a pair of sweatpants.

how he found those in the vast depths of your suitcase, you are unsure.

"i'm going to go brush my teeth, moisturize."

"is that how you get that baby-smooth skin of yours?"

peter raises an eyebrow at you. gestures down to the clothes in your lap. "change. get in bed. you look tired."

you frown. "did my makeup smudge?"

peter stares for a moment, surveying your face. his eyes are wide and his lips are just slightly parted. just enough for you to see a tiny bit of pink. a flash of white.

it’s a moment too long. peter clears his throat. "no," he says. "you--it, um. it looks good. you look beautiful."

your eyes widen, if only a little bit.

peter seems to realize this. he seems to run from you, if not literally, then figuratively. "okay. uh, you. change." he shakes his head.

and then the bathroom door closes.

you're tucked into bed when peter comes out ten minutes later.

you don't bother to ask what took him so long.

he smiles at you in the dark—you can see this, or, at least feel it. you're very familiar with it.

and despite the fact that you have shared a bed with peter before, that you were miles closer to him only a couple of hours ago, you still feel a twitch of nerves as he climbs into bed next to you.

the covers shift ever so slightly.

and then peter turns towards you. he knows that you're still awake.

you know that his eyes are soft. that there are circles under his eyes but he still looks just as beautiful. but he still looks like the person that you're undeniably in love with.

whatever.

"tired?" he whispers to you because it's dark.

these are late-night secrets, see.

"yes." you whisper back. "no."

peter chuckles, so low and quiet.

it's silent for a moment. cars passing by the room. lights shining in through the curtains.

your heart bouncing across the walls and hoping to land in peter's hands.

"did you have fun?" he asks, so soft.

you almost freeze. almost completely forget yourself. "yeah. yes. i—it wasn't as bad as i thought it would be."

"i think the dancing really sold it."

"oh, you mean, you stepping on my feet and me not yelling at you?"

"uh-huh."

"that's the testament to a good relationship, for sure."

peter is smiling.

you know that.

maybe because you're also smiling.

"you should go to bed," you say. "you're tired."

"i'm really not," peter says.

you want to lean in closer. something about the dark. something about spending the whole day with him. something about his eyes and his lips and his smiles—which, even now—are terrifying.

something about the dark.

"may wants to have breakfast with us," peter whispers to you.

"yeah?"

"yeah. i can tell her that you're too tired if you want."

you clear your throat. swallow. "no. it's okay. i like hanging out with her."

"yeah?"

"yeah."

peter is silent for a moment. he is so quiet that you're almost worried that he's disappeared into the dark.

but he's there.

your heart won't let you forget that.

"peter?" you whisper.

"yeah?"

"thank you for bringing me."

"thank you for being my girlfriend."

the sentence weighs more than a pile of bricks on your chest.

you think about the next ten minutes. about how this might be—this is—your last chance. this is it for peter being your boyfriend. even fake.

it's worth something.

but peter turns on his side, eyes shutting.

and so you follow, pretending that you can't feel him, warm, so soft, next to you.

you pretend that you can't hear his breathing. that all of this is meaningless.

and you're getting used to it. pretending.

still, you feel it, about seven minutes later.

a couple of minutes after you're sure that peter's already fallen asleep. that he isn't plagued by these thoughts, these ideas like you are.

it doesn't matter.

it's seven minutes later, in the dark, so early in the morning.

you feel peter's hand, right next to you.

you feel him intertwine his fingers with you.

and peter is warm and soft. rough and cold.

he is asleep. but it means something.

you pretend it doesn't.

you fall asleep holding his hand.

my masterlist here.

tags: @moonlarking-blog @v1ci0us @preciousbabypeter @alexxavicry @directioner5life @random_writer1021

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sebsbarnes · 1 month

Text

letters to a loved one || tangerine

tangerine x reader

summary: the only form of communication you and tangerine can use when he is on a mission is email, however, as the weeks and months go by, your words have been left unanswered.

warnings: angst

word count: 1.4k

masterlist

a/n: this is a lot different than my normal works so i hope you enjoy this different format

aug 5th, 2022: i know it's only been two days since you left but i miss you so much already! good luck today, kick some ass!! mwah! xoxo

aug 15th, 2022: hi honey. i hope the mission went well a few days ago! even though email is the safest way we can communicate while you're gone i know you can't always respond even if you're in a safe house. i'm not too worried, i know how skilled you and lemon are. tell him i say hi! i can't wait for you to be home, you estimated you'd be back on the 17th so i have a nice dinner planned. <3 love you so so much my sweet tang!

aug 27th, 2022: hey tang, i can't lie and say i'm not a tiny bit worried but i keep telling myself you've been gone longer before with zero communication. maybe it feels different now because of how long we've been together. i miss waking up to you and grabbing our keys and heading out for the day. if you see this message me back! even if you can't fully respond i'll settle with a smiley face if i must! haha. oh by the way i still cooked that dinner i had planned for us, it came out soooo yummy. but it took so long omg! you're lucky i love you and i'm willing to spend 8 hours in the kitchen again. it will probably taste better this time since you will be by my side. love you lots!

sept 12th, 2022: i only just saw the news of the bullet train derailment in japan on august 5th. that was your mission wasn't it? you said the 5th. i'm worried more now, i can't lie, but like i tell you every day i know how skilled you are. even though i never want to wish you are in a hospital i hope that's where you are recovering with lemon by your side. when you get the chance please email me back, okay? i love you.

sept 14th, 2022: tangerine if you see this please email or call me.

sept 30th, 2022: i wish i could talk to you just once. one word so i know you are okay. i can't reach lemon either. i wake up every day hoping you will be laying next to me. please, please give me something so i know you are alright? anything. where are you tangerine? i don't want to keep crying but that's all i can do. sit here in our empty house and cry. the walls feel like they are closing in on me. i went to our favorite breakfast spot the other day and i got that really sweet older lady with the grey curly hair as my waitress. she asked where you've been. i don't know how much longer i can keep saying you are gone for work and people believe it... i no longer believe it either. i hate typing it out. i don't want to believe something awful happened but something did, didn't it? i can feel it in my body. please reach out to me, i miss you so much and i love you so so much tangerine, please.

oct 26th, 2022: i love halloween, you know that more than anyone. decorations everywhere, piles of candy, and everyone dressing up pretending to be someone else for the night. now i feel bad about how much i bugged you about this year's halloween. my friends keep telling me to come out and join them, but if i'm being honest it's hard to do anything these days. it doesn't help that they think you just left me, ghosted me i guess. but they don't know what you do for work and i can't tell them. so i have to listen to them talk shit about you and i sit there trying to convince them you aren't this evil guy who ditched me and never looked back. maybe i should listen, maybe it's easier to believe you just left me than admitting to myself you're no longer here. i'm holding out, i'm trying so fucking hard to, tan. maybe in some sick joke you will pop up on halloween dressed in some stupid costume with a mask covering your face and in some grand reveal you will pull the mask off and i'll be in your arms again. it's wishful thinking. well, i have to go now, i'm meeting with a co-worker. love you.

dec 1st, 2022: i should be waking up this morning with your arms wrapped around me nearly crushing every bone in my body. but i didn't. and i haven't since the beginning of august. is it cruel now to admit i think you are gone. i really think you are and part of me has thought this since i saw the news of the bullet train. i feel scared. i'm starting to forget the little things about you. i can't play back the sound of your laugh in my head. i can't really picture the way your eyes crinkled. it makes me feel ill. i don't want to forget the small details about you. i crave to whisper goodnight and i love you to you. i crave just for your body next to mine. in the most innocent forms i crave you, like the way you'd absentmindedly play with my hair or pull out my chair or charge my phone when i always forget. the simple things i'm missing the most. i didn't realize i had so many forms of love until you've been gone. happy anniversary, dear.

jan 17th, 2023: tangerine, i'm not sure why i opened this email account. it's been over a month since i've checked it. maybe it was because i heard your favorite song earlier and thought of you a bit more than usual these days. i secretly hoped there would be a new message but that's foolish of me.

april 7th, 2023: Dear Tangerine, I know you won't read this email, but I felt as though I needed to explain what life has been like recently. My friends no longer bring you up in conversation which I am grateful for. I had to stop visiting our favorite breakfast place, each time I went they asked about you, even as recently as three weeks ago. I will miss their egg sandwich that you recommended to me on our third date but it is better off I no longer go there. Work has been great, a bit busy, but good. I removed your picture from my desk at the beginning of the new year. I saw the way my co-workers would stare a bit too long at it, I guess seeing it reminded them how I never mentioned you anymore. Speaking of co-workers, a few emails ago I mentioned I was meeting up with one of them. We've been seeing each other a lot outside of work, I enjoy their company. I can never say this to them but when they kiss me and hug me I sometimes think it's you. That's wrong to admit especially since I think I'm developing feelings for them, but they will never see this. They are kind and treat me well which I know you would be pleased to hear. I packed up your clothes in my house and put them in a box. I couldn't keep looking at them. I cried so much that I don't think I can cry again for years to come. I would hug your shirts and jackets so much that they lost your smell. I regret that a bit. I opened the box a few days ago and it smelled like me. Almost all signs of you are gone now that the remnants of your cologne is worn off the fabric. I think I might sell the house. It's too big for a single person now. It's too quiet in here and it almost feels like someone is watching me, it doesn't feel safe. Maybe that's because you provided me with safety. I'm not doing much today, it's actually pretty early right now, maybe I'll cook that dinner I never got to cook for you. I haven't since that day. I'm realizing how silly I sound in my own head as I type these words. Maybe I'll invest in a journal soon.

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forever-rogue · 1 year

Note

The last episode, oh my...

Come the idea of something fluff of Joel saying the "oh, baby girl" to reader. Idk, perhaps she had a nightmare or she's recovering from an injury. Whatever you want write, thanks Bee.

AN | This got a little away from me, but I think you’ll find some good angst and fluff 🥰

Pairing | Joel Miller x Fem!Reader

Warnings | Language, Injury [reader has a broken arm]

Word Count | 2.3k

Masterlist | Joel, Main

─── ･｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

You hated this. It was stupid and pointless and you weren't even that hurt.

There was no need for a cast. Especially not on your arm. Your entire arm. Ugh.

You tried to climb up the counter to grab the cocoa powder from the top shelf but you fell short. You couldn't get yourself up the counter with one arm.

"This is so stupid," you groaned to yourself. Maybe there was a step ladder or something nearby. You didn't recall ever seeing one but it was worth a look. With a heavy sigh you walked around the house to look for anything to help.

It was Joel's fault really; he was the one that insisted you go to one of Jackson’s few doctors. It was that same doctor that pronounced your arm broken in three different places. And then unilaterally decided to put you in a cast. It wasn't like you could have said no; Joel wouldn't have allowed you to leave without a cast. He was so overprotective sometimes - it was a blessing and a curse.

After you walked around the house and came up empty, you walked back into the kitchen with a huff. You still wanted your brownies and you were going to make them, come hell or high water.

You grabbed a kitchen chair and pulled it up to the counter. It was much easier to climb onto the counter with the chair and once you were almost eye level with the powder you reached for it.

But - but - life couldn't make things that easy after all. You felt the chair start to wobble before you lost your footing and started to fall off. You mentally prepared to collide with the cold kitchen tile….but the crash never came.

Instead you felt a strong arm wrap around your waist and then you were pulled into a warm wall. After a moment of panic, you realized what had happened and relaxed.

"Joel," you leaned into him and felt his long exhale before he hung his head and rested it on your shoulder.

"What the hell were you doing, huh?" There was a mixture of annoyance and panic lacing his voice, "what were you thinking?"

"I was just trying to get the cocoa powder do I could make brownies," you shrugged casually, trying to keep this situation from getting worse, "its not a big deal…?"

"No big deal?" He turned you around so you were facing him and you didn't like the look you found. You knew that he was about to turn this into a lecture, "you almost fell. You could have hurt yourself!"

"And what?" With a wince you lifted up your casted arm, "get another one of these? At this point I don't even care. I can't - I hate this. It's so hard to do anything with one arm, one hand. I hate depending on you or Ellie for everything!"

"Honey-"

"It's so frustrating," you threw up your free hand in exasperation, "I know you don't get - but if you were in my place you would be like this too. I just…ugh."

"Oh baby girl," his hands tenderly cradled your face as you looked up at him with big, soft doe eyes. Despite your best efforts, a few big, fat tears streamed down your face. He gently brushed them away with his thumb, "I know it's hard. That it is frustrating."

"It's your fault I have to deal with this," you tried to be stern with him. Everything he did, he did for you and Ellie. Everything he did, he did with love. If he hadn't cared, he would never have forced you to go to the doctor, "this could have been easily prevented!"

"If you hadn't been so clumsy and fallen off your horse, then yes, it could have been prevented," you couldn't even pretend to be mad at him. He was right after all, "but here we are. And all I can do now is take care of you."

"You don't hate me?" your voice cracked as you looked away, staring at your feet. And he laughed - a warm, affectionate chuckle that went straight to your heart, "don't laugh at me, Joel Miller."

"I'm not laughing at you," he promised, peppering a few kisses to your cheeks, "with you. Always with you, baby. Why would I ever hate you?"

"Because I'm a big baby," you huffed, "something happened, something that realistically is not that big, and yet I can't even handle. I've gotten soft!"

"I like you soft," he whispered, "it means you're not fighting all the time. It means you're safe and comfortable. That's what you deserve. If the worst fear you have is getting a broken arm, and that means what we're doing is right, it means we're okay. I want you to be able to be soft all the time."

"Oh," yeah. His words felt like a gut punch in all the best ways, "oh."

"Oh," he repeated with a soft smile. He brushed his knuckles over your cheek, "you know I love you right."

"Yeah," you nodded, "I know. I love you, Joel."

He made a soft noise before moving to the cabinet and easily grabbing the powder you'd been reaching. He set it down on the counter before turning back to you.

"Better?" You looked between him and can before nodding.

"Much," you promised, "so much better."

─── ･｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

Joel was out on patrol and you were lying in bed, unable to sleep. A million thoughts were swirling through your mind as usual and all you could do was stare up at the ceiling.

But then, as if he could somehow read your mind, Joel walked into the bedroom, slowly closing the door behind him. You sat up, unable to keep yourself from beaming at him. Before he could say or do anything, you jumped off the bed and ran over to him, throwing yourself into his arms.

As soon as he wrapped his arms around you, he felt like a weight had been lifted off his shoulders. You pulled back and leaned up to press a kiss to his lips, "hi."

"Hi," he kissed you back, "everything alright, baby?"

"Yes," you promised, reaching for his hand and pulling him to the bed, "everything's fine, love. I just missed you 's all."

"I do believe that," he hummed in content as he watched you lie down, "but I also know there's something else on your mind. You're easy to read."

"I am not!" An indignant huff escaped your lips, "'m not easy."

"First of all, I said easy to read, not easy," he put a finger under your chin and turned your face up to his, "and secondly - you are easy to read to me."

"Fine," a small smile tugged up the corners of your mouth, "do you always have to be right."

"Only when it's necessary," he leaned in and kissed you softly, "now come on, tell me what's wrong."

You paused for a moment before sighing lightly and waving your hand around, "its just that…I've been thinking."

"Uh oh," he teased, you dramatically rolled your eyes, "come on honey girl, tell me what's on your mind."

"The other day you mentioned I'd gotten soft," you took his hand and started tracing the tip of your finger along the lines of his palm, "and it had me thinking about that."

"Oh?"

"At first I was annoyed and mad," you marveled at how much larger his hand was than yours, "not at you, more myself. It made me feel like I failed myself somehow. Like I'd forgotten everything and how to handle myself. Like if we went back out there I wouldn't be able to fend for myself."

"You know that's not true," he flipped your hand over and repeated the gesture on you, "you'll be able to handle anything that's thrown at you. Except a horse apparently-"

"Joel!"

"Sorry - anything," he grinned; you hated how easily he managed to charm you sometimes, "you're not suddenly goin' to forget how to take care of yourself. I promise."

"I hope not," you sighed heavily, "but the thing is…I don't hate it."

"Being soft?"

"Mhmm," You stole a quick peek at him and saw that his face was pointedly neutral, "I like being here. I like our lives here. Like how normal it feels, almost feels like nothing is wrong out in the world. We can be a normal family here…and I don't really want to lose that."

"Okay," it was infuriating how hard he could be to read. Unlike you apparently, "you want to stay?"

"Umm…yeah," you confessed quietly, face warming up, "I want to stay here with you and our daughter and whatever other family we might have in the future. I like it here and it feels like home and I never thought I'd say that again."

"It does," he settled against the headboard and put his warm hands on your hips as he pulled you on top of him. His lap was one of your favorite places to be, "it does feel like home."

"And what are your thoughts, love?" You grew nervous as you put your hand on his chest, right above his heart where you could feel it beating steadily.

"I agree."

"With?" You groaned softly, "you're killing me here!"

"I like being at home with you every night," his voice was wistful, soft, "I like knowing you're safe, that Ellie is safe…"

"Why do I feel like there's a but coming?" Tears were welling up at the back of your eyes as you looked away. He was silent for a moment too long, "Joel?"

"But I don't know if I can stay here," and there it was. The big blow you had an inkling was coming but still managed to feel like a punch to the face.

"Well then I-I can't stay here either," you pouted at him and the man exhaled slowly, "wherever you go, I go. That's the deal. I'm not….you're not leaving me behind. No one gets left behind. You promised me."

"Baby…" he scrubbed his hand over his tired face. He squeezed your hip gently, "I always said I was going to keep you safe. Keeping you here will keep you safe. So."

"That's such bullshit," if he was even going to think about leaving you behind you were going to give him a hard time, "I'm safe with you. And so is Ellie - our kid. I'm not letting you leave me and I'm not leaving you."

"I don't…it's not that I don't want to stay," he tapped his fingers gently along your jaw, "I…I don't know if I deserve to stay."

"W-what do you mean?" Your entire heart dropped into your stomach as you watched his face grow hard, “Joel?”

He remained silent for a few moments, the quiet between the two of you hard and disconcerting, “Joel.”

“You deserve to be safe and happy,” he put his hand on your face before brushing your hair out of your face, “you deserve to be here.”

“And don’t you deserve the same?” judging by the look on his face, he did not think that’s what he deserved at all. He offered you the slightest shake of his head, “why? Tell me why.”

“I am not a good man,” was all he said. You scoffed in response, “the shit I’ve done and I’ve caused to happen is exactly my definition of good. Someone like you….you are good.”

“What about all the good things you’ve done?” you gestured to your arm in the cast, “and all the bad things I’ve done? The things we’ve done are things we needed to do in order to survive. There’s no way around that. All these other people - they’ve all done things and none of them deserve anything else. Your heart is good.”

He looked like a puppy as his soft brown eyes met yours. You could tell that this was hard for him to hear; that this was something he needed to hear, “how do you know that?”

“Because I know you, Joel Miller,” you gave him the sweetest of smiles as he opened and closed his mouth a few times, lost for words, “and I know that you are a good man. The things that you did that you think make you so bad? You’d never have done those things now. Circumstances happen and things change. But underneath it all, you have a big heart and give a lot of love to everyone else.”

“I-”

“And you should let us return that love,” and oh. Your words hit him like a freight and his eyes grew wet with tears, “it’s okay to be loved and to let people in. Especially now. If you think Ellie and I deserve to be here, so do you.”

“Okay,” you brushed away the tears that had rolled down his cheek with your good hand before blessing his skin with the touch of your lips.

“And if you want to leave or even think about leaving or trying to sneak off - I’m coming with you. I, Joel Miller, am with you till the end of the line,” he wrapped his arms around you in a warm hug before you even realized what was happening. But you wasted no time in melting into his touch, “I love you.”

“I know,” he whispered in your ear, “I feel the same. Terribly.”

And you did; you knew it was hard for him to say the words and never expected him to. Everything would come in due time. You pressed your forehead against his, “will you at least think about it? Staying here?”

“I already know what I want,” he insisted, “you. Ellie. Here - a stable home with my family.”

“Me too,” you beamed back at him, “you and Ellie and our home.”

“Home.”

#joel miller #joel miller x you #joel miller x reader #joel miller x fem!reader #joel miller imagine #joel miller one shot #pedro pascal #tlou #tlou hbo #the last of us

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d-targaryenshoe · 1 year

Text

Jackson Avery - Cherished In Secret

Word Count: 999

Summary: Having that one person to come home to in secret, still feels like home, right?

There were moments where you didn't know how to act, how to just...be. At moments it could feel as if it was all so complicated, even frustrating when you failed at a single suture.

But to lighten everything, there were also moments of laughter, happiness, and joy. The joy you felt whenever you were around your friends, friends that always had your back.

Whenever and wherever.

Although your friends did not always know everything, some parts of your life that you'd rather keep to yourself, were the parts they didn't know about.

But whenever all of you had finished your jobs for the day, there was one thing left to do, and that was all of you getting ready to leave the hospital and enter Joe's for having a few drinks and say whatever happened that day

Or talk about what happened when all of you weren't together or were too busy living your own lives besides being a medical intern. At times it could feel like coming home, while all of you were just sitting and laughing around a table.

"Taryn, Never have I ever thrown up on another person?" Levi watched his friend's face change into disgust.

"Levi, please-" Nico started.

"Are you serious?" You stared at your male friend with an amazed expression.

"What? You all wanted to play this game, so?" He watched Taryn searching for an answer to his question.

"Yeah, once, twice actually, Y/n was the first person to go through the horror event, and then...Casey was the second." Taryn sighed, watching all of you stare at her. "I'm not proud of it, okay? I still feel bad for it."

"Nico, you're next!" You sarcastically smiled at your friend, the friend you could hate at times, but still, he was your friend, unconditionally. "Never have I ever played strip poker."

The table ooh'd at your sudden wave of confidence. Noticing Nico's flustered face as he heard your question that was directed straight at him.

"Yeah, I did." He answered, shrugging his shoulders, doing his best to keep on a strong expression on his face.

"And?" Taryn took a sip of her beer, waiting for her friend to start explaining any further details.

"I won?" Nico shrugged his shoulder, noticing not one of you believed anything of what he said. "I lost, okay? I lost, ended up in my underwear, and a walk of shame, can we move on?"

"We sure can, but we're not done talking about this," Taryn spoke, pointing at Levi with her beer bottle. "Never have I ever worked with someone I couldn't stand."

Levi pretended to be in deep thought, thinking about an answer to the question that he'd just been asked. "No offense, but I work with all of you, that's already frustrating at times."

"Wow, way to go, Levi." You shook your head at your friend's answer, yet you loved the way all of you could say these sorts of things and yet still laugh and support each other unconditionally. "You're lucky I love you."

"Well, you're also lucky because the next question is directed at you." Nico smiled, fiddling with a card on the table. "Never have I ever kept a crush secret from people in this room."

And this is where he got you good, he got you good at a point and a fact where you had to find a way out. A way out, to not put everything you had built up in secret on the line.

To put it on the line for a stupid game of 'Never Have I Ever' with your friends. It was not the case that you didn't want to tell them, it was just nice to have something for yourself, something you didn't feel like sharing.

"I have never." You lied, looking all of your friends in the eyes, trying your best to make them believe you, which wasn't one of the hardest things to do. "I'd never be able to keep such a thing for myself, so no."

It seemed as if everyone was doubting you, but after a few seconds, they started smiling and nodding their heads, noticing your serious behavior, and suggesting you were speaking the truth.

Suddenly your phone started vibrating, and that was enough for you to know it was time to finish the night with your friends and get safe in your other secret bubble.

"Dr. Wilson asked me to come in early tomorrow, so I think I'm gonna head home, take a shower and just go to sleep for the day." You said, putting on your coat, and placing some money on the table, to make the lying somehow okay.

"Oh...okay?" Taryn furrowed her eyebrows, sharing a confused glance with your other two friends.

"Sure...see you in a few hours then?" Nico asked, receiving a nod from you.

"Yeah, we'll see you tomorrow, y/n" Levi smiled.

"See you tomorrow then." You took your purse and walked out of Joe's, pulling your coat somehow tighter around your body, because the cold weather, wasn't just it.

Taking your phone out of your coat pocket, you scrolled through all your messages, searching for any new message he'd sent you meanwhile, but you didn't see anything.

"So, you lied again to them?" A voice spoke up behind you, startling you somehow out of your concentration.

"My god- well, yeah, yeah I did, why?" You frowned, staring up into Jackson's eyes, trying your best not to smile.

"You've been lying to them for 3 months now, why don't you just tell them?" Jackson asked, taking a hold of your hand.

"I like keeping us and you to myself, is that selfish?" You released his hand and placed both of your hands on each side of his face, softly smiling. "They'd freak out if they would know."

"I get it, I feel the same way." Jackson smiled and kissed your forehead, taking once again hold of your hand as you both started walking into the night.

#greys anatomy imagine #greys anatomy imagines #greys anatomy x reader #request open #jackson avery imagine #jackson avery imagines #jackson avery x reader #greys #jesse x reader #jesse williams x reader #jesse williams imagine #jesse williams imagines #jesse williams #greys x reader #greys anatomy #jackson avery

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the-modern-typewriter · 2 years

Note

Hey! I love your writing! :D Could you pls do a holiday heroxvillain snippet where the hero ambushes the villain at a restaurant, thinking they want to attack civilians but the villain is actually on a date (That wasn't going too well!) Thanks!

"...you're on a date."

"So kind of you to notice."

The hero opened their mouth. Closed it. They felt heat creep up their neck, across their face, and had to resist the urge to bury their face in their hands. "I thought -"

"What exactly did you think?" the villain's date asked. Their voice was icy. "I didn't realise you did that. I thought dumb and strong was more your thing."

The hero swallowed. They focused, disconcerted, on the villain. "You're not attacking civilians. Or keeping people hostage."

"The night is young," the villain said.

The hero giggled. They hated the hysterical sound the second it left them. They hated the way that, as the embarrassed surge of shock began to fade, there were...other things.

They turned their attention to the villain's date.

The villain's date who obviously looked cold and suave and perfect. The bastard. They were all high cheekbones and refinement. Some bloody old-fashioned genteel vampire or - or something - in a crisp inky suit that clung to them like a second skin. They were nothing like the hero, soaked through with the evening rain still dripping down their back.

Eau de wet cat.

Had they said the embarrassment was fading?

"Well, it's not like I expected you to be on a date," they mumbled to the villain, folding their arms. Because they'd thought...

Well, it was stupid what they'd thought, given they'd also thought civilians were in danger. Whatever else they thought or felt was a moron's pipe dream. A terrible idea.

They should go. Right now.

"And why shouldn't be they on a date?" snapped the date, before the hero could take a step back. They placed their elegant hand on the villain's across the table, and squeezed the villain's fingers, somewhere between possessive and protective. The date's smile was like the bloody slice of a scalpel. "Because you're a sad narrow-minded little goodie two-shoes with no life outside of pretending you're a hero?"

The hero blinked, startled despite themselves.

The villain tensed.

"You're pathetic," the date continued. "Always running around after them, crushing on your own enem-"

"They don't like physical contact," the hero blurted.

The villain's eyes had widened a fraction.

The hero wasn't sure if it was at what they'd said, or what their date had said.

They wanted to die. Sink into the floor. Hell swallowing them up would have been less excruciating then the continued conversation. Still.

"Excuse me?" the date asked.

"They don't - " The hero stopped, glancing uncertainly at the villain. They'd always got the impression that the villain hated physical contact, given how their powers worked. One touch and the villain could start rather viscerally absorbing the knowledge and memories of whoever they came in contact with. Was it just with the hero that the villain hated touch?

Either way, it wasn't their thing to tell.

But the villain...

The villain laughed, and it was a strangled sort of giggle airlessly similar to the hero's. They started to slid their hand free from under their date's. Their date's grip tightened.

No. The villain didn't like it.

"Well. As you can see," the date said, "your precious civilians are safe. You can go now."

"Right," the hero said. They looked between the villain, their date, and their still entwined hands.

The villain's arm had gone rigid on the table and their face was slowly draining of colour.

Their date didn't notice. They were too busy puffing up their chest, indignant on the villain's behalf. At least, they didn't seem to notice...

"I'm just going to-" The villain began faintly.

"You're right," the date said. "We should find somewhere nicer. Somewhere that they don't just let any riff-raff in." They stood, sending the chair back with a screech that made the villain tense again, still not letting go of their hand and-

The hero didn't exactly remember picking up the glass of red wine on the table. They would remember the look on the date's face when the hero threw it all over them though.

Eau de dick head.

The date dropped the villain's hand in an instant to bemoan their ruined shirt, to wipe the red wine from their face, to shriek for a waiter.

And the villain...

In an instant, the villain had surged past them both, into the night, and gone.

The two of them stood there as the servers scurried over.

"So sorry," the hero said. "My hand slipped."

They didn't listen to whatever came next, letting the sound of the date's rage buoy them out of the restaurant.

They were three streets away when the villain appeared again.

The hero stopped.

The two of them stared at each other.

"Are you okay?" the hero asked. It came out too soft.

"Give me your number," the villain said. "The next time I'm on a date, I'll text you. That way we can avoid any misunderstandings."

#heroes and villains #villains and heroes #writing #story #hero x villain #villain x hero #creative writing #ficlet #writing snippet

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