adhdduckie

[adhdduckie]

bloodied kisses - m.g. x reader

photo creds to @cribabey w perms.

my masterlist reqs open!!

synopsis: mark grayson, who removes himself quietly from your life as if he was never in it in the first place. as if he wasn't your best friend for years and years. who shows up to your house for the first time in months, beaten and bruised.

wc: 3.8k

a/n: i finished it, posted it, and then i deleted it by accident. had to rewrite ending and i hate myself rn because i deleted it.

your friendship with mark had started when you'd first moved in, just down the road. you'd been young, still baby faced at 11.

you'd been helping your mom move the boxes out of the moving truck when you heard a small "you need any help?"

it made you jump, seeing how you'd not heard him approaching, and when you turned around to face him, he saw the fear on your face and quickly apologised, "oh my god, i'm so sorry. my mom told me to come help"

you'd told him it wasn't a big deal, and he'd introduced himself to you. you'd done the same.

after that, he'd come over so many times, and soon enough, you'd been inseparable.

you'd joined his school once the summer was over, and you spent lunchtimes with william and mark together, always talking about that comic mark loved, seance dog.

while you didn't like the comics as much as they did, you loved to hear them talk about them, especially the way mark got so animated when arguing with william about it.

you realised at some point at a lunchtime during school that you'd liked him a lot more than a friend. he'd been leaning forward talking to you, and when he'd gotten too close, you'd gotten nervous. your heart thumping, palms sweaty kind of nervous.

and that made you scared. he was your friend, first and foremost, and your feelings for him were pushed down, deep, deep, deep. locked in a little box where your heart would have been, in a bigger box, in a bigger box. which was then locked in large steel chains.

a little bit of an overkill, but you really weren't risking shit.

your friendship was sweet, mark was sweet, and he especially was sweet to you. mark was too sweet, too good to you.

kind, charming and funny, always cracking jokes to you in class, teasing you just enough to get you flustered, but only as a joke, which he would say.

it hurt a little, but as you said before, friendship was more important to you.

problem was, as soon as you hit 16, he'd stopped. stopped talking to you in the halls, stopped talking to you in class, stopped coming over. he'd dodge you in the halls, and pretended not to be home when you'd come over.

william didn't get it either, saying how mark wouldn't tell him why he'd been avoiding you, and goddamn, it hurt.

you'd been hurt, so hurt, and you'd had enough. he stopped responding to your messages, and had just stopped leaving you on read, opting instead to leave you on delivered.

that was the last straw for you. so you stopped trying. stopped looking for him the halls, stopped going over to his house to look for him, stopped messaging him, and stopped sitting with them at lunch.

and as soon as you'd disappeared from their normal table at lunch, mark had gone back to sit with william.

you'd seen it happen first time. sitting next to a guy who'd been begging you to sit with you at lunch for months, you'd zoned out from the boring conversation as soon as he'd started. he was going on about something about being on the football team and being the MIP of the team, but you weren't listening.

your eyes were on mark as he made his way through the hustling and bustling cafeteria, his yellow shirt underneath his blue sweater always standing out.

his sleeves were pushed up his forearms, and you'd been able to see the muscle in them, flexing as he carried his tray with one hand. you hated how it still invoked the butterflies in your stomach, and it pissed the hell out of you.

you dragged your eyes forcefully away from him, trying to pay attention to jacob and whatever he was saying about his football. but no matter what happened, your eyes went right back at mark.

him laughing, talking with william and just acting completely unaffected by your absence.

'fuck him'. you thought to yourself.

and just as easy that mark had come into your life, he disappeared from it.

a year had passed since then, and it was easier than it was before, but still not as easy as your friendship had been.

you still loved him, which pissed you off to no end, despite his completely lack of care for you.

initially you had tried to smile at him in the halls as you'd walked by in different directions, but he always stood straight, ignoring you completely, eyes ahead as you stumbled over your steps.

you told yourself it was for the better, that you didn't want his attention anymore, but that little box in of your heart ached every time you thought that.

william and you still spoke, but you'd found another group of friends, only ever talking to william when mark wasn't around.

and then, there was a new superhero.

invincible, (cue title card) or so he called himself. quite frankly, mark was horrible at hiding his identity.

ducking out of class, only minutes later invincible arriving on a scene. he had the same hair, same build and height, and that same….mark feeling.

but you didn't tell anyone, you didn't say anything to anyone, and god, why did it matter if you knew who he was. he wasn't your mark anymore, you weren't even friends.

you'd watched him as he changed over time, growing taller, broader and stronger.

you couldn't help but notice, and yet again it was something you cursed your stupid little heart box for.

in the halls it was easier to notice, he'd shot up over the summer, especially now that he's got his powers.

it's crazy to think that mark is invincible, especially the guy who was once your mark. well, he's no longer your mark, as you should be able to tell due to the complete and absolute avoidance of you.

still, with absolutely no reasoning whatsoever behind it.

william, even a year later, still urges you to speak to mark. but you refuse, saying that "it was completely unwarranted," And that "you didn't do anything that deserved this kind of treatment." all that could have possibly happened would be that he had enough of you.

he just stopped liking you and that there was absolutely no other reasoning behind it. which lowkey sucked but still, men ain't shit (says you who literally sometimes still cry remembering about how fucking upset you were when he just disappeared out your life.)

william is done. he really is. he's had enough of both you and mark, how mark just refuses to talk to you and how you just fucking won't talk to mark either.

it's not really your fault. you tried, you really did, messaging him, showing up, just anything you used to do together.

debbie, who you still see around occasionally, gives you a sad smile sometimes, like she knows what's happening. but you never ask, because maybe you don't want to know. but you also do, which is a big problem.

you're currently just hanging around at williams, watching TV with him when there's a news alert. 'Breaking, invincible in fight with (generic) villain'

you watch with bated breath, watching mark, or invincible, getting absolutely beaten up, quite frankly, and youre really worried for a moment there that you're gonna be attending a funeral.

but somehow, like normal he always managed to get out of it, but it leaves him bruised and bleeding. you're so irrevocably fucked, you want everything in the world to pause just so you can check if he's okay.

but you have to remind yourself you can't do that anymore, he's not your friend.

you're tired, so unbelievably tired. you're missing your conversations together, you're missing just being near him, being allowed to look at him with more than just stolen glances. you're just tired, and you want it all to go back to normal.

fuck normal, honestly.

you're done. with worrying and you don't want to see the news. knowing mark got out is enough, and you want to go home to cry.

william doesn't get why all of a sudden you're so tired, and you bode both him and rick goodbye as you leave, not really wanting to third wheel anymore.

rick's sweet, he is, but you just want to be home alone now, and not with anyone else.

the trek back home isn't a long one, but you soften the walk with some music. it's dark out, a little earlier than usual.

just as you reach your house, you look up to your room to see the light is on, and the windows open, which is strange because you swear you switched it off just before you headed out and closed your windows.

you can see the light shining down through the large oak tree in your front yard, and the way the light filters through the leaves is gorgeous.

you can see the curtains billowing from the night air, and you furrow your brows.

might have been a slip of the mind, you reckon.

nevertheless, you unlock your front door, setting down your coat on the hangers, dropping your keys onto the mantle, before heading into the kitchen to make yourself some quick noodles.

your parents are out again, on a date night, most likely. they won't be home for awhile.

as you're waiting for the water to boil, you're standing there rather impatiently. you just want to collapse into bed, it's been a tiring day.

your hands itch for your phone, to search up if invincible managed to get away compltely alright. but you won't. you have to remind yourself that you don't care, that you can't care.

next thing you know, you're letting out a sigh of relief, seeing that invincible got away alright, and then you're swearing at yourself for even caring.

but it's hard to switch it off like a switch, you just can't do that.

once your noodles are done, you're halfway up the stairs when you hear a shuffle coming from your room.

you freeze.

you're waiting for the sound to come again, and when it doesn't, you think it's just a trick of your mind, and you keep walking up.

stopping right at your door, something makes you pause but you're not sure what it is or why you're pausing, but you force yourself to move past it. you push open your door.

it takes your eyes a moment to adjust to the rather bright light all of a sudden, coming from the rather dark hallway. once your eyes do adjust, you see it.

mark.

he's sitting on the floor of your room, holding a hand to his stomach, eyes closed as he rests his head on edge of your bed, his jaw sharp, his neck taut.

his mask is off, flung to the side. you can see it in the corner, and it's covered in blood. his or someone else's, you're not sure.

but the absence of a large abundance of blood on his face makes you think it's someone else's.

"what the fuck." you say, more annoyed than anything else.

then you process the blood. it's on your floor, which is stone, so it's not so bad to clean up, but his suit is torn, and he looks like he's in pain.

"what the fuck, mark." You repeat, and only then does he open his eyes, to look at you.

"hey." he says.

a year and a couple months and all you fucking get is a "hey" like it's only been hours since he's seen you last?

"don't 'hey' me." you snap, setting down your quick noodles and your glass of water, before you think again, picking it up and passing the glass of water to him. he takes it with a grateful look, trying to smile at you.

even his teeth are stained with blood. his injuries look a lot worse in person, rather than on TV.

you stare at him for a while, before you walk to your bathroom, grabbing your first aid kit that you'd once run out to buy once when mark had fallen from the tree in your front yard when you were 13, the one you had used to clean up his cuts back then.

it had sat unused for four years, just waiting to be used again, in the corner under your sink. you have to brush the dirt off of it.

then you have to wash your hands, for the fear of infection.

you come back out, pulling out everything you think you might need.

"what the fuck are you doing here, mark." you snap at him again, pissed that he just shows up after 16 months of absolutely nothing, pretending that everything's fine when he's covered in blood, and this is the first time you've seen him up close in a year.

you're taking out your scissors, cutting the cloth around his cuts, trying to stop the fabric from sticking to it. you hate how close this makes you, hate how it makes the box in your chest ache, hate how you want to be closer.

"i wanted to see you." he groans, when you pull a certain strip of fabric away from a particularly deep cut. even his voice has changed. it's deeper, far more self assured, and somehow just more…mark.

"you wanted to see me?" you scoff, setting your scissors down and picking up some antiseptic cream and a piece of gauze. "you haven't spoken to me in 16 months. you've ignored and dodged me at school, you've left me on read for months, and. you just show up, bleeding and beaten in your invincible suit just completely out of the blue?" you can feel your throat close up as you finish speaking, tears pricking at your eyes.

you rub at them with your sleeves, making sure that your hands remain clean. you put just a little too much iodine solution on the gauze, pressing a little bit harder than you need to.

he lets out a hiss of pain, and it doesn't make you feel better, unlike what you were hoping. "fuck you, mark" you say to him again.

he's silent. he's just staring at you, his face unreadable.

you can see how much he's changed since the last time you were this up close.

you avoid his eye contact, knowing that if you made eye contact with him, you wouldn't be able to hold back 16 months of anger and pain back.

"will you just fucking say something?" you demand, bandaging him up with the rolls and rolls of bandages, basically wrapping him up like a mummy.

"mark. please." you beg.

you feel his hand cup your jaw, making you look up at him, his eye contact making you nervy, tears threatening to spill over your lash lines.

he swallows, mouth dry before he says; "i just… couldn't be around you anymore."

that admission makes you crumble, and you automatically assume the worst. but the way he's handling you now, so soft and gently is at odds with his words.

"what..do you mean?" it's your turn to swallow now, and you realise how parched you really are.

he sighs, as your eyes hone in on a cut on his upper eyebrow, and you're picking up the gauze and iodine solution again, shuffling closer.

you're hesitant to dab at his eye, holding out the gauze out for a moment, to see if he's alright with you being this close to him.

he nods, once, but you notice. of course you notice. you can count the amount of tiny tiny scars he has on his face from here.

you can see the one that's just under his brow , the one he got from a branch when he fell down from the tree, the one you'd helped him clean.

you dab slowly, gently. you've slowed down a little, waiting for his response. you're trying to avoid direct eye contact with mark, but you can still feel his eyes zeroed in on you.

"mark, what do you mean." you repeat, demanding answers. you've had enough of this cat and mouse, where he's constantly running from you. you're not letting him go till you're getting your answers.

he sighs, seeming to understand that you aren't letting go.

"you know, i just couldn't control myself. i want you. like desperately. like more than a friend, more than a best friend. i knew it was more than you were willing to give me , so i tried to distance myself. and once i did, it was harder for me to go back to normal, so i couldn't."

wow. okay. erm. not what you were expecting. but still, that was still a completely dick move.

"you want me?" you ask him, shy. you're hopeful, needing him to say it. the chain around the boxes of your heart snaps.

"i don't just want you, I need you. do you know how much it killed me to see you sitting with that tool jacob?? you smiling at whatever he was saying, but still looking at me? do you know how hard it was for me to pretend like i didn't see you in the hallways? like it wasn't suffocating to walk by you and not talk to you?" your outer heart box splinters.

you want to say something, you really do, but you can't get anything in with the way he's rambling

"my heart squeezes every time i look at you, and it killed me to stay so far away from you." he says, looking up at you again. your hand has stilled from where you were dabbing at his cut, and you're breathless. when the admission sinks in, another shell around your heart breaks.

"i fucking love you, and i never said anything because i didn't want to ruin our friendship." he whispers, like it's hard for him to say it. it probably is. the final box that was keeping your feelings locked up and tucked away, just fucking breaks. you're crying, and you're trying not to show him.

"and i know, i ruined it by walking away, but i didn't want to ruin it by telling you i loved you. and i'm sorry, i'm sorry… i just can't stay away anymore. it really took me almost dying to realise how much i've been needing you." he says to you, his hand cupping your jaw again. his other hand reaches up to your cheek, and his thumb brushes away a tear.

his head is no longer resting against your bed edge, and now he's sitting up rather straight. he's moving into your space, he's so close you can feel his breath fanning across your lips. he smells like blood and the minty spider man toothpaste he's been using for years. he likes to pretend he uses adult toothpaste, but he used to always go back to it.

"i'm sorry," he whispers, and you can feel the words on your lips. "i'll do anything it takes to make it up to you."

"it really took you almost fucking dying to apologise, huh?" you say, voice cracking, brittle from tears. you're trying to play it off, make it seem a little funnier to show him that it's okay. well it's not okay, but you get what he means.

he's trying, and he's always been bad with feelings, and you know this. 16 months will take forever for him to make up for, but you just want him back. you want him back in your life. you want to sit with him at lunch again, you want to be close to him again.

he laughs, and even he sounds like he's been crying.

"you're too good to me." he says, and you're glad he knows it, because if it was anyone else, they'd have been dropped like hot potato.

when you rest your forehead against his, his hands move to your waist, and he lifts you so easily onto his lap. you forget he's a superhero now, and it's too easy for him it's unfair.

you swat him lightly on the chest, apologising when you hear him grunt in pain.

"are you going to kiss me?" you ask him, voice hushed, excited, nervous.

he laughs, and pulls you closer before he captures your lips in his.

he tastes just like he smells like; metallic and minty, a taste so addicting you don't want to come up for air. he somehow tastes sweet in your mouth too, and he groans when you bite him lightly on his bottom lip.

his hands are warm and heavy on your hips, and your knees are pressed against the stone floor on each side of his hips.

your hands tangle into his hair, pulling lightly at his roots. when your nails scratch gently at his scalp, he groans into the kiss.

his groan vibrates through him into your mouth, and you smile against his lips.

he's unrelenting, all fierce kisses and licks, as if he's trying to devour you.

he licks slightly at the line between your lips, and you open, pliant and obedient for him, his tongue snaking in to meet yours, dancing together.

he tastes sweet, if you haven't said before.

when you finally have to break away for air, you rest your forehead against his, breathing hard. he presses a chaste kiss to the corner of your lip, and you kiss another to the scar above his eye, underneath his brow, that he got when he tried to climb the tree up your yard into your room, the one he'd fallen down from.

"this alone isn't going to make up for 16 months," You tell him, despite the smile on your face. "you're not magically forgiven."

he leans in again, smiling against your lips as he whispers, "i know."

later, you're both lying on your bed, both of you tired and exhausted, leaning into each other, when he whispers to you, "weren't you surprised that i was invincible?"

"not really." you respond, not opening your eyes. your head is resting on his uninjured shoulder, face tucked into the crook of his neck.

"why not?" he asks. you think about telling him that you recognised him almost immediately, from the curve of his back, the strong line of his jaw, and the light scar underneath his jaw.

but those things had only been memorised by you because you'd spent more timing staring at him then talking to him, so you decided not to tell him that. maybe you'd tell him one day. instead, you tell him, "i recognised your voice immediately."

he huffs in response.

a/n: goddamn i locked in for this. i had literally posted it and then tried to edit it to check word count but then accidentally deleted it and had to rewrite the entire thing from the kiss scene onwards. i was crying lowk.

anyway. hope you enjoyed!! as always, thank you if you made it all the way down here!!!

as always, likes and reblogs are appreciated, and let me know if you have any comments!! i love reading them.

[adhdduckie]

bloodied kisses - m.g. x reader

photo creds to @cribabey w perms.

my masterlist reqs open!!

synopsis: mark grayson, who removes himself quietly from your life as if he was never in it in the first place. as if he wasn't your best friend for years and years. who shows up to your house for the first time in months, beaten and bruised.

wc: 3.8k

a/n: i finished it, posted it, and then i deleted it by accident. had to rewrite ending and i hate myself rn because i deleted it.

your friendship with mark had started when you'd first moved in, just down the road. you'd been young, still baby faced at 11.

you'd been helping your mom move the boxes out of the moving truck when you heard a small "you need any help?"

it made you jump, seeing how you'd not heard him approaching, and when you turned around to face him, he saw the fear on your face and quickly apologised, "oh my god, i'm so sorry. my mom told me to come help"

you'd told him it wasn't a big deal, and he'd introduced himself to you. you'd done the same.

after that, he'd come over so many times, and soon enough, you'd been inseparable.

you'd joined his school once the summer was over, and you spent lunchtimes with william and mark together, always talking about that comic mark loved, seance dog.

while you didn't like the comics as much as they did, you loved to hear them talk about them, especially the way mark got so animated when arguing with william about it.

you realised at some point at a lunchtime during school that you'd liked him a lot more than a friend. he'd been leaning forward talking to you, and when he'd gotten too close, you'd gotten nervous. your heart thumping, palms sweaty kind of nervous.

and that made you scared. he was your friend, first and foremost, and your feelings for him were pushed down, deep, deep, deep. locked in a little box where your heart would have been, in a bigger box, in a bigger box. which was then locked in large steel chains.

a little bit of an overkill, but you really weren't risking shit.

your friendship was sweet, mark was sweet, and he especially was sweet to you. mark was too sweet, too good to you.

kind, charming and funny, always cracking jokes to you in class, teasing you just enough to get you flustered, but only as a joke, which he would say.

it hurt a little, but as you said before, friendship was more important to you.

problem was, as soon as you hit 16, he'd stopped. stopped talking to you in the halls, stopped talking to you in class, stopped coming over. he'd dodge you in the halls, and pretended not to be home when you'd come over.

william didn't get it either, saying how mark wouldn't tell him why he'd been avoiding you, and goddamn, it hurt.

you'd been hurt, so hurt, and you'd had enough. he stopped responding to your messages, and had just stopped leaving you on read, opting instead to leave you on delivered.

that was the last straw for you. so you stopped trying. stopped looking for him the halls, stopped going over to his house to look for him, stopped messaging him, and stopped sitting with them at lunch.

and as soon as you'd disappeared from their normal table at lunch, mark had gone back to sit with william.

you'd seen it happen first time. sitting next to a guy who'd been begging you to sit with you at lunch for months, you'd zoned out from the boring conversation as soon as he'd started. he was going on about something about being on the football team and being the MIP of the team, but you weren't listening.

your eyes were on mark as he made his way through the hustling and bustling cafeteria, his yellow shirt underneath his blue sweater always standing out.

his sleeves were pushed up his forearms, and you'd been able to see the muscle in them, flexing as he carried his tray with one hand. you hated how it still invoked the butterflies in your stomach, and it pissed the hell out of you.

you dragged your eyes forcefully away from him, trying to pay attention to jacob and whatever he was saying about his football. but no matter what happened, your eyes went right back at mark.

him laughing, talking with william and just acting completely unaffected by your absence.

'fuck him'. you thought to yourself.

and just as easy that mark had come into your life, he disappeared from it.

a year had passed since then, and it was easier than it was before, but still not as easy as your friendship had been.

you still loved him, which pissed you off to no end, despite his completely lack of care for you.

initially you had tried to smile at him in the halls as you'd walked by in different directions, but he always stood straight, ignoring you completely, eyes ahead as you stumbled over your steps.

you told yourself it was for the better, that you didn't want his attention anymore, but that little box in of your heart ached every time you thought that.

william and you still spoke, but you'd found another group of friends, only ever talking to william when mark wasn't around.

and then, there was a new superhero.

invincible, (cue title card) or so he called himself. quite frankly, mark was horrible at hiding his identity.

ducking out of class, only minutes later invincible arriving on a scene. he had the same hair, same build and height, and that same….mark feeling.

but you didn't tell anyone, you didn't say anything to anyone, and god, why did it matter if you knew who he was. he wasn't your mark anymore, you weren't even friends.

you'd watched him as he changed over time, growing taller, broader and stronger.

you couldn't help but notice, and yet again it was something you cursed your stupid little heart box for.

in the halls it was easier to notice, he'd shot up over the summer, especially now that he's got his powers.

it's crazy to think that mark is invincible, especially the guy who was once your mark. well, he's no longer your mark, as you should be able to tell due to the complete and absolute avoidance of you.

still, with absolutely no reasoning whatsoever behind it.

william, even a year later, still urges you to speak to mark. but you refuse, saying that "it was completely unwarranted," And that "you didn't do anything that deserved this kind of treatment." all that could have possibly happened would be that he had enough of you.

he just stopped liking you and that there was absolutely no other reasoning behind it. which lowkey sucked but still, men ain't shit (says you who literally sometimes still cry remembering about how fucking upset you were when he just disappeared out your life.)

william is done. he really is. he's had enough of both you and mark, how mark just refuses to talk to you and how you just fucking won't talk to mark either.

it's not really your fault. you tried, you really did, messaging him, showing up, just anything you used to do together.

debbie, who you still see around occasionally, gives you a sad smile sometimes, like she knows what's happening. but you never ask, because maybe you don't want to know. but you also do, which is a big problem.

you're currently just hanging around at williams, watching TV with him when there's a news alert. 'Breaking, invincible in fight with (generic) villain'

you watch with bated breath, watching mark, or invincible, getting absolutely beaten up, quite frankly, and youre really worried for a moment there that you're gonna be attending a funeral.

but somehow, like normal he always managed to get out of it, but it leaves him bruised and bleeding. you're so irrevocably fucked, you want everything in the world to pause just so you can check if he's okay.

but you have to remind yourself you can't do that anymore, he's not your friend.

you're tired, so unbelievably tired. you're missing your conversations together, you're missing just being near him, being allowed to look at him with more than just stolen glances. you're just tired, and you want it all to go back to normal.

fuck normal, honestly.

you're done. with worrying and you don't want to see the news. knowing mark got out is enough, and you want to go home to cry.

william doesn't get why all of a sudden you're so tired, and you bode both him and rick goodbye as you leave, not really wanting to third wheel anymore.

rick's sweet, he is, but you just want to be home alone now, and not with anyone else.

the trek back home isn't a long one, but you soften the walk with some music. it's dark out, a little earlier than usual.

just as you reach your house, you look up to your room to see the light is on, and the windows open, which is strange because you swear you switched it off just before you headed out and closed your windows.

you can see the light shining down through the large oak tree in your front yard, and the way the light filters through the leaves is gorgeous.

you can see the curtains billowing from the night air, and you furrow your brows.

might have been a slip of the mind, you reckon.

nevertheless, you unlock your front door, setting down your coat on the hangers, dropping your keys onto the mantle, before heading into the kitchen to make yourself some quick noodles.

your parents are out again, on a date night, most likely. they won't be home for awhile.

as you're waiting for the water to boil, you're standing there rather impatiently. you just want to collapse into bed, it's been a tiring day.

your hands itch for your phone, to search up if invincible managed to get away compltely alright. but you won't. you have to remind yourself that you don't care, that you can't care.

next thing you know, you're letting out a sigh of relief, seeing that invincible got away alright, and then you're swearing at yourself for even caring.

but it's hard to switch it off like a switch, you just can't do that.

once your noodles are done, you're halfway up the stairs when you hear a shuffle coming from your room.

you freeze.

you're waiting for the sound to come again, and when it doesn't, you think it's just a trick of your mind, and you keep walking up.

stopping right at your door, something makes you pause but you're not sure what it is or why you're pausing, but you force yourself to move past it. you push open your door.

it takes your eyes a moment to adjust to the rather bright light all of a sudden, coming from the rather dark hallway. once your eyes do adjust, you see it.

mark.

he's sitting on the floor of your room, holding a hand to his stomach, eyes closed as he rests his head on edge of your bed, his jaw sharp, his neck taut.

his mask is off, flung to the side. you can see it in the corner, and it's covered in blood. his or someone else's, you're not sure.

but the absence of a large abundance of blood on his face makes you think it's someone else's.

"what the fuck." you say, more annoyed than anything else.

then you process the blood. it's on your floor, which is stone, so it's not so bad to clean up, but his suit is torn, and he looks like he's in pain.

"what the fuck, mark." You repeat, and only then does he open his eyes, to look at you.

"hey." he says.

a year and a couple months and all you fucking get is a "hey" like it's only been hours since he's seen you last?

"don't 'hey' me." you snap, setting down your quick noodles and your glass of water, before you think again, picking it up and passing the glass of water to him. he takes it with a grateful look, trying to smile at you.

even his teeth are stained with blood. his injuries look a lot worse in person, rather than on TV.

you stare at him for a while, before you walk to your bathroom, grabbing your first aid kit that you'd once run out to buy once when mark had fallen from the tree in your front yard when you were 13, the one you had used to clean up his cuts back then.

it had sat unused for four years, just waiting to be used again, in the corner under your sink. you have to brush the dirt off of it.

then you have to wash your hands, for the fear of infection.

you come back out, pulling out everything you think you might need.

"what the fuck are you doing here, mark." you snap at him again, pissed that he just shows up after 16 months of absolutely nothing, pretending that everything's fine when he's covered in blood, and this is the first time you've seen him up close in a year.

you're taking out your scissors, cutting the cloth around his cuts, trying to stop the fabric from sticking to it. you hate how close this makes you, hate how it makes the box in your chest ache, hate how you want to be closer.

"i wanted to see you." he groans, when you pull a certain strip of fabric away from a particularly deep cut. even his voice has changed. it's deeper, far more self assured, and somehow just more…mark.

"you wanted to see me?" you scoff, setting your scissors down and picking up some antiseptic cream and a piece of gauze. "you haven't spoken to me in 16 months. you've ignored and dodged me at school, you've left me on read for months, and. you just show up, bleeding and beaten in your invincible suit just completely out of the blue?" you can feel your throat close up as you finish speaking, tears pricking at your eyes.

you rub at them with your sleeves, making sure that your hands remain clean. you put just a little too much iodine solution on the gauze, pressing a little bit harder than you need to.

he lets out a hiss of pain, and it doesn't make you feel better, unlike what you were hoping. "fuck you, mark" you say to him again.

he's silent. he's just staring at you, his face unreadable.

you can see how much he's changed since the last time you were this up close.

you avoid his eye contact, knowing that if you made eye contact with him, you wouldn't be able to hold back 16 months of anger and pain back.

"will you just fucking say something?" you demand, bandaging him up with the rolls and rolls of bandages, basically wrapping him up like a mummy.

"mark. please." you beg.

you feel his hand cup your jaw, making you look up at him, his eye contact making you nervy, tears threatening to spill over your lash lines.

he swallows, mouth dry before he says; "i just… couldn't be around you anymore."

that admission makes you crumble, and you automatically assume the worst. but the way he's handling you now, so soft and gently is at odds with his words.

"what..do you mean?" it's your turn to swallow now, and you realise how parched you really are.

he sighs, as your eyes hone in on a cut on his upper eyebrow, and you're picking up the gauze and iodine solution again, shuffling closer.

you're hesitant to dab at his eye, holding out the gauze out for a moment, to see if he's alright with you being this close to him.

he nods, once, but you notice. of course you notice. you can count the amount of tiny tiny scars he has on his face from here.

you can see the one that's just under his brow , the one he got from a branch when he fell down from the tree, the one you'd helped him clean.

you dab slowly, gently. you've slowed down a little, waiting for his response. you're trying to avoid direct eye contact with mark, but you can still feel his eyes zeroed in on you.

"mark, what do you mean." you repeat, demanding answers. you've had enough of this cat and mouse, where he's constantly running from you. you're not letting him go till you're getting your answers.

he sighs, seeming to understand that you aren't letting go.

"you know, i just couldn't control myself. i want you. like desperately. like more than a friend, more than a best friend. i knew it was more than you were willing to give me , so i tried to distance myself. and once i did, it was harder for me to go back to normal, so i couldn't."

wow. okay. erm. not what you were expecting. but still, that was still a completely dick move.

"you want me?" you ask him, shy. you're hopeful, needing him to say it. the chain around the boxes of your heart snaps.

"i don't just want you, I need you. do you know how much it killed me to see you sitting with that tool jacob?? you smiling at whatever he was saying, but still looking at me? do you know how hard it was for me to pretend like i didn't see you in the hallways? like it wasn't suffocating to walk by you and not talk to you?" your outer heart box splinters.

you want to say something, you really do, but you can't get anything in with the way he's rambling

"my heart squeezes every time i look at you, and it killed me to stay so far away from you." he says, looking up at you again. your hand has stilled from where you were dabbing at his cut, and you're breathless. when the admission sinks in, another shell around your heart breaks.

"i fucking love you, and i never said anything because i didn't want to ruin our friendship." he whispers, like it's hard for him to say it. it probably is. the final box that was keeping your feelings locked up and tucked away, just fucking breaks. you're crying, and you're trying not to show him.

"and i know, i ruined it by walking away, but i didn't want to ruin it by telling you i loved you. and i'm sorry, i'm sorry… i just can't stay away anymore. it really took me almost dying to realise how much i've been needing you." he says to you, his hand cupping your jaw again. his other hand reaches up to your cheek, and his thumb brushes away a tear.

his head is no longer resting against your bed edge, and now he's sitting up rather straight. he's moving into your space, he's so close you can feel his breath fanning across your lips. he smells like blood and the minty spider man toothpaste he's been using for years. he likes to pretend he uses adult toothpaste, but he used to always go back to it.

"i'm sorry," he whispers, and you can feel the words on your lips. "i'll do anything it takes to make it up to you."

"it really took you almost fucking dying to apologise, huh?" you say, voice cracking, brittle from tears. you're trying to play it off, make it seem a little funnier to show him that it's okay. well it's not okay, but you get what he means.

he's trying, and he's always been bad with feelings, and you know this. 16 months will take forever for him to make up for, but you just want him back. you want him back in your life. you want to sit with him at lunch again, you want to be close to him again.

he laughs, and even he sounds like he's been crying.

"you're too good to me." he says, and you're glad he knows it, because if it was anyone else, they'd have been dropped like hot potato.

when you rest your forehead against his, his hands move to your waist, and he lifts you so easily onto his lap. you forget he's a superhero now, and it's too easy for him it's unfair.

you swat him lightly on the chest, apologising when you hear him grunt in pain.

"are you going to kiss me?" you ask him, voice hushed, excited, nervous.

he laughs, and pulls you closer before he captures your lips in his.

he tastes just like he smells like; metallic and minty, a taste so addicting you don't want to come up for air. he somehow tastes sweet in your mouth too, and he groans when you bite him lightly on his bottom lip.

his hands are warm and heavy on your hips, and your knees are pressed against the stone floor on each side of his hips.

your hands tangle into his hair, pulling lightly at his roots. when your nails scratch gently at his scalp, he groans into the kiss.

his groan vibrates through him into your mouth, and you smile against his lips.

he's unrelenting, all fierce kisses and licks, as if he's trying to devour you.

he licks slightly at the line between your lips, and you open, pliant and obedient for him, his tongue snaking in to meet yours, dancing together.

he tastes sweet, if you haven't said before.

when you finally have to break away for air, you rest your forehead against his, breathing hard. he presses a chaste kiss to the corner of your lip, and you kiss another to the scar above his eye, underneath his brow, that he got when he tried to climb the tree up your yard into your room, the one he'd fallen down from.

"this alone isn't going to make up for 16 months," You tell him, despite the smile on your face. "you're not magically forgiven."

he leans in again, smiling against your lips as he whispers, "i know."

later, you're both lying on your bed, both of you tired and exhausted, leaning into each other, when he whispers to you, "weren't you surprised that i was invincible?"

"not really." you respond, not opening your eyes. your head is resting on his uninjured shoulder, face tucked into the crook of his neck.

"why not?" he asks. you think about telling him that you recognised him almost immediately, from the curve of his back, the strong line of his jaw, and the light scar underneath his jaw.

but those things had only been memorised by you because you'd spent more timing staring at him then talking to him, so you decided not to tell him that. maybe you'd tell him one day. instead, you tell him, "i recognised your voice immediately."

he huffs in response.

a/n: goddamn i locked in for this. i had literally posted it and then tried to edit it to check word count but then accidentally deleted it and had to rewrite the entire thing from the kiss scene onwards. i was crying lowk.

anyway. hope you enjoyed!! as always, thank you if you made it all the way down here!!!

as always, likes and reblogs are appreciated, and let me know if you have any comments!! i love reading them.

[adhdduckie]

bloodied kisses - m.g. x reader

photo creds to @cribabey w perms.

my masterlist reqs open!!

synopsis: mark grayson, who removes himself quietly from your life as if he was never in it in the first place. as if he wasn't your best friend for years and years. who shows up to your house for the first time in months, beaten and bruised.

wc: 3.8k

a/n: i finished it, posted it, and then i deleted it by accident. had to rewrite ending and i hate myself rn because i deleted it.

your friendship with mark had started when you'd first moved in, just down the road. you'd been young, still baby faced at 11.

you'd been helping your mom move the boxes out of the moving truck when you heard a small "you need any help?"

it made you jump, seeing how you'd not heard him approaching, and when you turned around to face him, he saw the fear on your face and quickly apologised, "oh my god, i'm so sorry. my mom told me to come help"

you'd told him it wasn't a big deal, and he'd introduced himself to you. you'd done the same.

after that, he'd come over so many times, and soon enough, you'd been inseparable.

you'd joined his school once the summer was over, and you spent lunchtimes with william and mark together, always talking about that comic mark loved, seance dog.

while you didn't like the comics as much as they did, you loved to hear them talk about them, especially the way mark got so animated when arguing with william about it.

you realised at some point at a lunchtime during school that you'd liked him a lot more than a friend. he'd been leaning forward talking to you, and when he'd gotten too close, you'd gotten nervous. your heart thumping, palms sweaty kind of nervous.

and that made you scared. he was your friend, first and foremost, and your feelings for him were pushed down, deep, deep, deep. locked in a little box where your heart would have been, in a bigger box, in a bigger box. which was then locked in large steel chains.

a little bit of an overkill, but you really weren't risking shit.

your friendship was sweet, mark was sweet, and he especially was sweet to you. mark was too sweet, too good to you.

kind, charming and funny, always cracking jokes to you in class, teasing you just enough to get you flustered, but only as a joke, which he would say.

it hurt a little, but as you said before, friendship was more important to you.

problem was, as soon as you hit 16, he'd stopped. stopped talking to you in the halls, stopped talking to you in class, stopped coming over. he'd dodge you in the halls, and pretended not to be home when you'd come over.

william didn't get it either, saying how mark wouldn't tell him why he'd been avoiding you, and goddamn, it hurt.

you'd been hurt, so hurt, and you'd had enough. he stopped responding to your messages, and had just stopped leaving you on read, opting instead to leave you on delivered.

that was the last straw for you. so you stopped trying. stopped looking for him the halls, stopped going over to his house to look for him, stopped messaging him, and stopped sitting with them at lunch.

and as soon as you'd disappeared from their normal table at lunch, mark had gone back to sit with william.

you'd seen it happen first time. sitting next to a guy who'd been begging you to sit with you at lunch for months, you'd zoned out from the boring conversation as soon as he'd started. he was going on about something about being on the football team and being the MIP of the team, but you weren't listening.

your eyes were on mark as he made his way through the hustling and bustling cafeteria, his yellow shirt underneath his blue sweater always standing out.

his sleeves were pushed up his forearms, and you'd been able to see the muscle in them, flexing as he carried his tray with one hand. you hated how it still invoked the butterflies in your stomach, and it pissed the hell out of you.

you dragged your eyes forcefully away from him, trying to pay attention to jacob and whatever he was saying about his football. but no matter what happened, your eyes went right back at mark.

him laughing, talking with william and just acting completely unaffected by your absence.

'fuck him'. you thought to yourself.

and just as easy that mark had come into your life, he disappeared from it.

a year had passed since then, and it was easier than it was before, but still not as easy as your friendship had been.

you still loved him, which pissed you off to no end, despite his completely lack of care for you.

initially you had tried to smile at him in the halls as you'd walked by in different directions, but he always stood straight, ignoring you completely, eyes ahead as you stumbled over your steps.

you told yourself it was for the better, that you didn't want his attention anymore, but that little box in of your heart ached every time you thought that.

william and you still spoke, but you'd found another group of friends, only ever talking to william when mark wasn't around.

and then, there was a new superhero.

invincible, (cue title card) or so he called himself. quite frankly, mark was horrible at hiding his identity.

ducking out of class, only minutes later invincible arriving on a scene. he had the same hair, same build and height, and that same….mark feeling.

but you didn't tell anyone, you didn't say anything to anyone, and god, why did it matter if you knew who he was. he wasn't your mark anymore, you weren't even friends.

you'd watched him as he changed over time, growing taller, broader and stronger.

you couldn't help but notice, and yet again it was something you cursed your stupid little heart box for.

in the halls it was easier to notice, he'd shot up over the summer, especially now that he's got his powers.

it's crazy to think that mark is invincible, especially the guy who was once your mark. well, he's no longer your mark, as you should be able to tell due to the complete and absolute avoidance of you.

still, with absolutely no reasoning whatsoever behind it.

william, even a year later, still urges you to speak to mark. but you refuse, saying that "it was completely unwarranted," And that "you didn't do anything that deserved this kind of treatment." all that could have possibly happened would be that he had enough of you.

he just stopped liking you and that there was absolutely no other reasoning behind it. which lowkey sucked but still, men ain't shit (says you who literally sometimes still cry remembering about how fucking upset you were when he just disappeared out your life.)

william is done. he really is. he's had enough of both you and mark, how mark just refuses to talk to you and how you just fucking won't talk to mark either.

it's not really your fault. you tried, you really did, messaging him, showing up, just anything you used to do together.

debbie, who you still see around occasionally, gives you a sad smile sometimes, like she knows what's happening. but you never ask, because maybe you don't want to know. but you also do, which is a big problem.

you're currently just hanging around at williams, watching TV with him when there's a news alert. 'Breaking, invincible in fight with (generic) villain'

you watch with bated breath, watching mark, or invincible, getting absolutely beaten up, quite frankly, and youre really worried for a moment there that you're gonna be attending a funeral.

but somehow, like normal he always managed to get out of it, but it leaves him bruised and bleeding. you're so irrevocably fucked, you want everything in the world to pause just so you can check if he's okay.

but you have to remind yourself you can't do that anymore, he's not your friend.

you're tired, so unbelievably tired. you're missing your conversations together, you're missing just being near him, being allowed to look at him with more than just stolen glances. you're just tired, and you want it all to go back to normal.

fuck normal, honestly.

you're done. with worrying and you don't want to see the news. knowing mark got out is enough, and you want to go home to cry.

william doesn't get why all of a sudden you're so tired, and you bode both him and rick goodbye as you leave, not really wanting to third wheel anymore.

rick's sweet, he is, but you just want to be home alone now, and not with anyone else.

the trek back home isn't a long one, but you soften the walk with some music. it's dark out, a little earlier than usual.

just as you reach your house, you look up to your room to see the light is on, and the windows open, which is strange because you swear you switched it off just before you headed out and closed your windows.

you can see the light shining down through the large oak tree in your front yard, and the way the light filters through the leaves is gorgeous.

you can see the curtains billowing from the night air, and you furrow your brows.

might have been a slip of the mind, you reckon.

nevertheless, you unlock your front door, setting down your coat on the hangers, dropping your keys onto the mantle, before heading into the kitchen to make yourself some quick noodles.

your parents are out again, on a date night, most likely. they won't be home for awhile.

as you're waiting for the water to boil, you're standing there rather impatiently. you just want to collapse into bed, it's been a tiring day.

your hands itch for your phone, to search up if invincible managed to get away compltely alright. but you won't. you have to remind yourself that you don't care, that you can't care.

next thing you know, you're letting out a sigh of relief, seeing that invincible got away alright, and then you're swearing at yourself for even caring.

but it's hard to switch it off like a switch, you just can't do that.

once your noodles are done, you're halfway up the stairs when you hear a shuffle coming from your room.

you freeze.

you're waiting for the sound to come again, and when it doesn't, you think it's just a trick of your mind, and you keep walking up.

stopping right at your door, something makes you pause but you're not sure what it is or why you're pausing, but you force yourself to move past it. you push open your door.

it takes your eyes a moment to adjust to the rather bright light all of a sudden, coming from the rather dark hallway. once your eyes do adjust, you see it.

mark.

he's sitting on the floor of your room, holding a hand to his stomach, eyes closed as he rests his head on edge of your bed, his jaw sharp, his neck taut.

his mask is off, flung to the side. you can see it in the corner, and it's covered in blood. his or someone else's, you're not sure.

but the absence of a large abundance of blood on his face makes you think it's someone else's.

"what the fuck." you say, more annoyed than anything else.

then you process the blood. it's on your floor, which is stone, so it's not so bad to clean up, but his suit is torn, and he looks like he's in pain.

"what the fuck, mark." You repeat, and only then does he open his eyes, to look at you.

"hey." he says.

a year and a couple months and all you fucking get is a "hey" like it's only been hours since he's seen you last?

"don't 'hey' me." you snap, setting down your quick noodles and your glass of water, before you think again, picking it up and passing the glass of water to him. he takes it with a grateful look, trying to smile at you.

even his teeth are stained with blood. his injuries look a lot worse in person, rather than on TV.

you stare at him for a while, before you walk to your bathroom, grabbing your first aid kit that you'd once run out to buy once when mark had fallen from the tree in your front yard when you were 13, the one you had used to clean up his cuts back then.

it had sat unused for four years, just waiting to be used again, in the corner under your sink. you have to brush the dirt off of it.

then you have to wash your hands, for the fear of infection.

you come back out, pulling out everything you think you might need.

"what the fuck are you doing here, mark." you snap at him again, pissed that he just shows up after 16 months of absolutely nothing, pretending that everything's fine when he's covered in blood, and this is the first time you've seen him up close in a year.

you're taking out your scissors, cutting the cloth around his cuts, trying to stop the fabric from sticking to it. you hate how close this makes you, hate how it makes the box in your chest ache, hate how you want to be closer.

"i wanted to see you." he groans, when you pull a certain strip of fabric away from a particularly deep cut. even his voice has changed. it's deeper, far more self assured, and somehow just more…mark.

"you wanted to see me?" you scoff, setting your scissors down and picking up some antiseptic cream and a piece of gauze. "you haven't spoken to me in 16 months. you've ignored and dodged me at school, you've left me on read for months, and. you just show up, bleeding and beaten in your invincible suit just completely out of the blue?" you can feel your throat close up as you finish speaking, tears pricking at your eyes.

you rub at them with your sleeves, making sure that your hands remain clean. you put just a little too much iodine solution on the gauze, pressing a little bit harder than you need to.

he lets out a hiss of pain, and it doesn't make you feel better, unlike what you were hoping. "fuck you, mark" you say to him again.

he's silent. he's just staring at you, his face unreadable.

you can see how much he's changed since the last time you were this up close.

you avoid his eye contact, knowing that if you made eye contact with him, you wouldn't be able to hold back 16 months of anger and pain back.

"will you just fucking say something?" you demand, bandaging him up with the rolls and rolls of bandages, basically wrapping him up like a mummy.

"mark. please." you beg.

you feel his hand cup your jaw, making you look up at him, his eye contact making you nervy, tears threatening to spill over your lash lines.

he swallows, mouth dry before he says; "i just… couldn't be around you anymore."

that admission makes you crumble, and you automatically assume the worst. but the way he's handling you now, so soft and gently is at odds with his words.

"what..do you mean?" it's your turn to swallow now, and you realise how parched you really are.

he sighs, as your eyes hone in on a cut on his upper eyebrow, and you're picking up the gauze and iodine solution again, shuffling closer.

you're hesitant to dab at his eye, holding out the gauze out for a moment, to see if he's alright with you being this close to him.

he nods, once, but you notice. of course you notice. you can count the amount of tiny tiny scars he has on his face from here.

you can see the one that's just under his brow , the one he got from a branch when he fell down from the tree, the one you'd helped him clean.

you dab slowly, gently. you've slowed down a little, waiting for his response. you're trying to avoid direct eye contact with mark, but you can still feel his eyes zeroed in on you.

"mark, what do you mean." you repeat, demanding answers. you've had enough of this cat and mouse, where he's constantly running from you. you're not letting him go till you're getting your answers.

he sighs, seeming to understand that you aren't letting go.

"you know, i just couldn't control myself. i want you. like desperately. like more than a friend, more than a best friend. i knew it was more than you were willing to give me , so i tried to distance myself. and once i did, it was harder for me to go back to normal, so i couldn't."

wow. okay. erm. not what you were expecting. but still, that was still a completely dick move.

"you want me?" you ask him, shy. you're hopeful, needing him to say it. the chain around the boxes of your heart snaps.

"i don't just want you, I need you. do you know how much it killed me to see you sitting with that tool jacob?? you smiling at whatever he was saying, but still looking at me? do you know how hard it was for me to pretend like i didn't see you in the hallways? like it wasn't suffocating to walk by you and not talk to you?" your outer heart box splinters.

you want to say something, you really do, but you can't get anything in with the way he's rambling

"my heart squeezes every time i look at you, and it killed me to stay so far away from you." he says, looking up at you again. your hand has stilled from where you were dabbing at his cut, and you're breathless. when the admission sinks in, another shell around your heart breaks.

"i fucking love you, and i never said anything because i didn't want to ruin our friendship." he whispers, like it's hard for him to say it. it probably is. the final box that was keeping your feelings locked up and tucked away, just fucking breaks. you're crying, and you're trying not to show him.

"and i know, i ruined it by walking away, but i didn't want to ruin it by telling you i loved you. and i'm sorry, i'm sorry… i just can't stay away anymore. it really took me almost dying to realise how much i've been needing you." he says to you, his hand cupping your jaw again. his other hand reaches up to your cheek, and his thumb brushes away a tear.

his head is no longer resting against your bed edge, and now he's sitting up rather straight. he's moving into your space, he's so close you can feel his breath fanning across your lips. he smells like blood and the minty spider man toothpaste he's been using for years. he likes to pretend he uses adult toothpaste, but he used to always go back to it.

"i'm sorry," he whispers, and you can feel the words on your lips. "i'll do anything it takes to make it up to you."

"it really took you almost fucking dying to apologise, huh?" you say, voice cracking, brittle from tears. you're trying to play it off, make it seem a little funnier to show him that it's okay. well it's not okay, but you get what he means.

he's trying, and he's always been bad with feelings, and you know this. 16 months will take forever for him to make up for, but you just want him back. you want him back in your life. you want to sit with him at lunch again, you want to be close to him again.

he laughs, and even he sounds like he's been crying.

"you're too good to me." he says, and you're glad he knows it, because if it was anyone else, they'd have been dropped like hot potato.

when you rest your forehead against his, his hands move to your waist, and he lifts you so easily onto his lap. you forget he's a superhero now, and it's too easy for him it's unfair.

you swat him lightly on the chest, apologising when you hear him grunt in pain.

"are you going to kiss me?" you ask him, voice hushed, excited, nervous.

he laughs, and pulls you closer before he captures your lips in his.

he tastes just like he smells like; metallic and minty, a taste so addicting you don't want to come up for air. he somehow tastes sweet in your mouth too, and he groans when you bite him lightly on his bottom lip.

his hands are warm and heavy on your hips, and your knees are pressed against the stone floor on each side of his hips.

your hands tangle into his hair, pulling lightly at his roots. when your nails scratch gently at his scalp, he groans into the kiss.

his groan vibrates through him into your mouth, and you smile against his lips.

he's unrelenting, all fierce kisses and licks, as if he's trying to devour you.

he licks slightly at the line between your lips, and you open, pliant and obedient for him, his tongue snaking in to meet yours, dancing together.

he tastes sweet, if you haven't said before.

when you finally have to break away for air, you rest your forehead against his, breathing hard. he presses a chaste kiss to the corner of your lip, and you kiss another to the scar above his eye, underneath his brow, that he got when he tried to climb the tree up your yard into your room, the one he'd fallen down from.

"this alone isn't going to make up for 16 months," You tell him, despite the smile on your face. "you're not magically forgiven."

he leans in again, smiling against your lips as he whispers, "i know."

later, you're both lying on your bed, both of you tired and exhausted, leaning into each other, when he whispers to you, "weren't you surprised that i was invincible?"

"not really." you respond, not opening your eyes. your head is resting on his uninjured shoulder, face tucked into the crook of his neck.

"why not?" he asks. you think about telling him that you recognised him almost immediately, from the curve of his back, the strong line of his jaw, and the light scar underneath his jaw.

but those things had only been memorised by you because you'd spent more timing staring at him then talking to him, so you decided not to tell him that. maybe you'd tell him one day. instead, you tell him, "i recognised your voice immediately."

he huffs in response.

a/n: goddamn i locked in for this. i had literally posted it and then tried to edit it to check word count but then accidentally deleted it and had to rewrite the entire thing from the kiss scene onwards. i was crying lowk.

anyway. hope you enjoyed!! as always, thank you if you made it all the way down here!!!

as always, likes and reblogs are appreciated, and let me know if you have any comments!! i love reading them.

[adhdduckie]

you did not kudos? you left the fic without a reblog? oh! oh! jail for reader! jail for reader for One Thousand Years!

[adhdduckie]

little blurb of a fic coming soon!!

⭐︎ gojo satoru who kisses you for the first time during shoko's version of spin the bottle, where you're blindfolded and thrown into the closet, and the bottle that you spun lands on him, but you don't know who joins you, and takes your first kiss.

⭐︎ gojo satoru, who doesn't know he just took your first kiss, can't stop thinking about kissing you. you don't know it was him who kissed you, but god, does he want to do it again.

⭐︎ gojo satoru, who can't help biting his own lip when he looks at your lips, all pretty and god, he can just remember the saccharine way you tasted when you kissed for the first time.

⭐︎ gojo satoru, who you've had a crush on for the last 2 years, without him knowing, is finally, somehow, realising his feelings for you, but you can't stop thinking of the mystery man who kissed you soft and sweet, but just had the drive behind.

⭐︎ gojo satoru, who doesn't know how to tell you it was he who kissed you, because the idea that he just might love you so much that he can't bear to lose you scares him, and he doesn't know how to deal with his emotions.

⭐︎ gojo satoru who can't ever look at you the same without thinking about the kiss, and who can't help but want to do it again, can't deal with these new feelings he's realised he's had along.

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let me know if u want to read an actual fic of this!!!

[adhdduckie]

little blurb of a fic coming soon!!

⭐︎ gojo satoru who kisses you for the first time during shoko's version of spin the bottle, where you're blindfolded and thrown into the closet, and the bottle that you spun lands on him, but you don't know who joins you, and takes your first kiss.

⭐︎ gojo satoru, who doesn't know he just took your first kiss, can't stop thinking about kissing you. you don't know it was him who kissed you, but god, does he want to do it again.

⭐︎ gojo satoru, who can't help biting his own lip when he looks at your lips, all pretty and god, he can just remember the saccharine way you tasted when you kissed for the first time.

⭐︎ gojo satoru, who you've had a crush on for the last 2 years, without him knowing, is finally, somehow, realising his feelings for you, but you can't stop thinking of the mystery man who kissed you soft and sweet, but just had the drive behind.

⭐︎ gojo satoru, who doesn't know how to tell you it was he who kissed you, because the idea that he just might love you so much that he can't bear to lose you scares him, and he doesn't know how to deal with his emotions.

⭐︎ gojo satoru who can't ever look at you the same without thinking about the kiss, and who can't help but want to do it again, can't deal with these new feelings he's realised he's had along.

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let me know if u want to read an actual fic of this!!!

[adhdduckie]

candy grams. g.w. x reader pt 2

my masterlist

music choice; dandelions by ruth b

word count: 2.4 k

pt 1

synopsis;

you've been in love with george for almost as long as you've known him.

that makes 6 years. and for the last 5, you've been in love with him.

valentines' day is around the corner. and you think it's a great idea to send him a candy gram anonymously.

a/n gang im so sorry this took so long i have so many IAs.

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‘fuck, fuck, fuck’ you’re whispering as you run up the stairs, back to the common room. you barge into hermione’s room, glad to see that she’s already lying on her bed.

she rises to see who it is, and immediately drops her book as you stumble towards her.

“what- what’s wrong?” she asks you, worry etched into her face.

it’s only then you’re vaguely aware of the tears on your face, and you can taste the salt on your lips.

you flop down face first on her bed, and scream into it.

you aren’t too sure what you’re going to do now, especially after this moment.

once you’re able to control yourself, and after hermione manages to roll you over so that you’re staring up at the ceiling, do you sigh and begin to tell her everything.

hermione sits there and listens, giving you the support that you weren’t aware that you needed so badly. she listens attentively, nodding every so often as to let you know that she’s still listening, despite her silence.

once you’ve finished recounting, you hang your head, hodling your hands to your face.

“why didn’t you just tell him?” you hear her ask you, and when you look at her, she’s staring back at you intensely, and you can’t tell why you feel slightly embarrassed.

“i can’t. I can’t face that rejection. I’ve been friends with him so long, i don’t know how i would deal with that.” you respond, voice hoarse.

she hums.

“you don’t know his answer.” she finally says, after a moment of silence, before she scoots closer to you, your shoulders touching, before you lay your head on her shoulder.

“i do. if it was going to work out in my favour he wouldn’t have waited so long to bring it up to me. or do everything that he did.” you try to explain lamely.

“you don’t know that. George isn’t a very confrontational person by nature. the only times he ever gets back at someone for something they did is when they’ve done it to other people, not him. he’s a prankster by nature, but he’s not all that outgoing.” she points out.

you don’t really notice that you’ve shaken your head until you hear her sigh.

“look, y/n.” she begins, and you know you’re not going to enjoy this, “i think you should have told him. i’ve said this from the beginning. your feelings are probably reciprocated. you haven’t seen the way he looks at you like everyone else has.”

you don’t realise you even huffed when she cuts you off before you even speak; adding on that, “no seriously, remember when harry was needing your help during their end of year exams? and how he kept sticking to your side? George was in a huff for the entire exam period, constantly glaring daggers at harry.”

you sigh, shaking your head again. “he was probably just annoyed of seeing harry all the time, and plus, wasn’t that when harry and ron were arguing again?” you try to explain.

you let out a little laugh, before saying; “i mean, i’d love to think that he cared for me the same way i care for him, but realistically, i don’t think that’s possible. plus, isn’t he super into angelina bell?”

“what’s the worst that would happen if he found out that you liked him?” she tries.

“uhhh, he hates me and never talks to mee again because he feels disgusted??” you respond, trying to seem lighthearted, but the mere thought of it is painful.

hermione stares at you, a frown on her face before she shakes her head. (there’s a lot of head shaking going on.) she realises that she won’t win against your self delusion and negativity, so she just tries to make you feel better instead.

the next few days are hard to get through.

you try your darned best to avoid the crap out of george, and it’s effective enough that even oblivious little harry is able to tell.

it starts off with you darting into a different hall, or empty classroom you see george in the halls.

you switched seats, so you were sitting with katie instead, as soon as classes that you had with george ended, you ducked out, running to your next one, often forgetting your friends behind as well.

avoiding him in the dining hall was a bit harder. you had to wake up a bit earlier in the mornings so you could get food, and everytime you saw him coming in, you’d have to shove what was left on your plate into your mouth, and then get running.

finally, on a sunday morning, fred corners you in the common room, when you’ve just come up from breakfast. luckily, (or unluckily, as you still feel a pang of sadness when you realise you haven’t seen george in forever) george isn’t with him, so you have a peace of mind. (YOU ARE LYING TO YOURSELF YOU LOOK LIKE A SAD LITTLE PUPPY)

“what’s wrong with you.” fred merely states, rather than asking you a question.

“i don’t know what you mean.” you respond, monotonous, and avoiding eye contact, as he looks so much like george you still hurt inside, but he and fred are still so different.

“you’ve been moping like a kicked puppy, and you’ve been avoiding george, so you’re both just moping, and he looks like he wants to end himself.” fred responds, eyes narrowing.

you sigh, before simply stating, “i can’t deal with my feelings, and he confronted me and i can’t deal with it.”

freds eyes somehow manage to narrow further, looking at you suspiciously. “everyone knows you’re in love with each other.”

“we aren’t. at least i am and he isn’t.” you respond simply, sighing as you close your eyes and rub them with your hand.

fred pulls your hand away from your face, and peers into your eyes, not letting go of your hand, he takes it and uses it to lightly slap yourself.

“are. you . dumb.?” he enunciates with each slap. it’s not painful, but its enough for you to fight back against him.

“what, fred.” you manage to snap out.

“he wants you so bad.” fred tells you.

“no he doesn’t”

“yes he does.”

“no he doesn’t”

“yes he does”

“no-”

“oh my gosh i am not doing this with you. he wants you, he’s in love with you, and he’s totally going to kill me for telling you this but i cannot stand this anymore.”

“what?” you ask, a little worried, which is kind of an understatement, as your heart is literally pounding in your chest.

“he is sooooo down bad for you.” fred says, shaking you by your shoulders.

“no.” you respond simply. you want to believe it, you do, but it doesn’t really make any sense.

“what-? …yes he is. i would not be telling you this if i was not the one who had listened to him complain for the entire two months every summer about how much he missed your ass.” fred asserts, continuing to shake you. you’re getting dizzy, so you have to step out of his grip.

“he what?” is your oh so genius response, as you struggle to maintain your composure, dizzy from being shaken and this revelation.

“he wants to kiss you and date you and profess his stupid undying love for his best friend who likes him back but you are dumb and keep trying to run away from him?” fred’s peering at you intensely, before he sighs. “i think it’s better if you hear this from him, so would you please do all of us a favour and just stop running? he’ll probably be on the quidditch pitch now so please please please go talk to him. he’s been working to the bone on the pitch because of you.”

you can’t even give fred a response, your brain is running a mile a minute.

you don’t process that your feet are even moving until you’re out of the castle until the cold hits you. you keep going anyway, until you see a little red blob in the distance, above the quidditch pitch.

as you make your way to the quidditch pitch you’re able to see that the little blob that was just a speck of red in the distance is slowly descending, until you realise its just george.

you break into a run, and as you’re getting close you can see the confusion on his face just before you collide into him, hugging him tight.

“what’s wrong?” he asks, the worried is etched onto his face. he processes that you’re not wearing a jumper, and you’re just in a thin top and jeans. “aren’t you cold? why aren’t you wearing a jumper?” he demands of you as he tries to warm you up, his warm hands rubbing up and down your arms.

“i’m sorry,” comes tumbling out your mouth, as you pull back from the hug. there’s a loss of warmth, and only then you shiver.

the lines of worry on his face smooth out, and he lets out a little sigh. “it’s alright, but please please don’t do that again, it was really horrible.”

you shake your head, your apology seems insignificant. it doesn’t seem like enough.

“i’m really sorry.” you repeat.

“it’s okay.” he asserts, and he picks his broom off the floor as he pulls you close.

“let’s go back in. you must be freezing.” he just says, and the walk back to the castle is mainly quiet. but it’s a good quiet, because you’re happy enough just to spend time with him. you realise you should probably bring up the candy gram incident, but you just don’t know what to do.

it’s as he leaves your side for a moment to set his broom back in the broom cupboard, when you finally muster up the courage. you’re watching him as he sets his broom down gently before you blurt it out.

“about the candy gram-” you start, before he interrupts.

“it’s okay. it was a joke i get it.” he says, as you watch him from the door frame of the cupboard. he’s deliberately avoiding making eye contact, but you need to get over this now or else you never will and fred will also probably commit murder if he was being honest.

“it wasn’t.” you manage to squeak out.

he spins around, and he’s completely silent, as if he wants you to keep on talking, or to explain yourself, or to burst out laughing that you’re just joking again.

“it wasn’t a joke.” there. you said it.

“it was never a joke. I couldn’t say it outright, so i was looking for a way that was less obvious, and when professor Mcgonagall came up with the idea, it seemed like a good idea to get my feelings out and finally get a break. i just didn’t think you’d realise who it was.” you finish, before you finally look up from where you were staring at the ground.

you didn’t hear him come closer to you as you were too stressed out, but now he’s standing close, too close. close enough that if you just leaned forward by a bit, you could touch him.

you look up at him, and the way he’s looking at you has you breathless.

“of course i realised it was you. I know what your handwriting looks like. i’ve sat next to you for years, and we’ve traded so many notes that i’ve saved over the years that i could copy your handwriting without even looking at it. i notice everything you do, even the things you don’t notice you do. you mean the world to me, far beyond what a best friend would be. i want to be more, and it’s something i’ve craved for so long.”

if you thought you were breathless before, you are definitely breathless now. you look at him, searching, searching his face for something that could just show how much he actually means it, or something that’d give it away that he’s not being serious. but you can’t find anything because he’s so earnest.

you know you need to say something, but you’re just searching for something perfect to say in response to the absolute poetry that he’s just sprouted, but the only thing that falls from your parted lips is a squeaked “really?”. it’s embarrassing, so you flush.

he laughs at that, and pulls you in by the loops of your jeans, so that you’re pressed up against him. he leans in close to you, his lips a fraction from yours. you can feel his hot breath fan over your cheek and you shiver, because its a stark contrast to the cold dreich weather outside.

he’s emanating warmth, and everything you’ve ever wanted. he finally leans in and… kisses your forehead, before he’s stepping away.

you’re left standing there confused and annoyed, before he sees the disappointment on your face before he laughs, pulling you in again, and giving you what he knows you both want.

it’s a kiss that’s hard and soft, and he lulls you into some sort of rhythm that’s just addicting, and you sigh happily into his mouth, and you can feel the way he smiles against you.

“you’re not funny.” you mutter, when he finally pulls away.

“i’m hilarious.” he laughs and you can’t stop fight against the smile that’s breaking out across your face, before he kisses it again.

“you wish.” you manage to get out, when he’s done.

“you love me.” he teases, and you don’t respond to it, which makes him smile even harder. you’re walking off without him, trying so hard to not start laughing out of giddiness. he stands there with a smile so big that he knows you can’t see, before he runs up to catch up with you.

he pulls you in close as he walks you back to the castle together, his hands clasped with yours naturally, and you think to yourself that you have a lot of lost time to catch up on.

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later on, you’re tucked into george’s side in the common room as you warm up near the fire. his arm’s around your shoulder, and when fred comes in through the portrait, and his eyes land on the two of you together, you’re able to hear a sigh of relief coming from him.

“it’s about time. i was going to go insane from all the negative tension. why did it take so long?” fred complains, falling into the couch across from you. you both look at each other, and without a response, you both look at him with a smile.

he shudders, “oh god you’re already gross.”

------------------------------------------------------------------------------tags

@aceofspades190 @mirkwoodshewolf @blackqueengold @serenablamelessheart. @hooneeyydroops (sorry wasn't sure if u wanted to be tagged so if not im sorry)

[adhdduckie]

harry potter masterlist !! (hogwarts)

full masterlist (multi-fandom)

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

harry potter universe:

Gryffindors;

-harry potter

nothing yet....

george weasley

i. candy grams: g.w. x best friend!reader, pt 2 soon!

↪ you've been in love with george for as long as you've known him. one day in year 6, you make the mistake of sending him a candy gram, anonymously of course, and you think that's the end of it. you're wrong.

fred weasley

i. felix felicis or liquid luck; f.w. x fem! reader.

↪you're sat next to fred in potions, and make felix felicis. in the end, you try to decide who gets to keep it, and it becomes a game. what happens if one day, you keep waiting for him to give it back, and he doesn't?

ron weasley

nothing here yet!

slytherins

draco malfoy

empty right now!

blaise zabini

...maybe something soon?

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

requests are open!

[adhdduckie]

candy grams. g.w. x reader

my masterlist

music choice; dandelions by ruth b

word count: 2.7 k

pt 2

synopsis;

you've been in love with george for almost as long as you've known him.

that makes 6 years. and for the last 5, you've been in love with him.

valentines' day is around the corner. and you think it's a great idea to send him a candy gram anonymously. a/n - no valentines this year so i thought id finally lock in and give some of yall a treat! hope u enjoy + pls interact!

George Weasley is one of your favourite people ever. He's sweet, funny and kind when he wants to be. So, many girls you know have a crush on him. So do you. It's kind of a pain, most of the time. He's your best friend, you're so integrated into his family, the burrow is your second home. Molly loves you, and so does the rest of the family.

George and Fred are both large parts of your daily life. You're one of the only people who are able to tell them apart. They look exactly the same, but you're able to tell a difference. You're not even entirely sure how you know, but you just know.

Classes with the two are entertaining, you sitting between the two on a bench, stifled giggles can be heard throughout the classroom, and are a constant in every class you have with the twins. You're closest with George, having become friends in first year when you were placed next to him in potions after snape had enough of the twins sitting together.

Although it wasn't till second year before you realised you cared about george beyond a friend should. A constant figure in your mind, and a constant figure in your life, he invaded every moment of your life.

it wasn't like he did it on purpose. he was just everywhere you turned. In the hallways, laughing with fred while they made fun of Ron, next to you in classes, sitting across from you in the great hall at feeding times, and during the holidays when he'd send you constant letters on updates of things he and his brother made in their room. You were invited over a lot, but obviously you had to spend some time with your family before you went over to the burrow.

You had lived with these feelings for years, not many knew. Fred didn't, so George didn't. Hermione seemed to be the only one that knew, and it was only because of her intelligence was she able to figure out. 5th year was honestly the worst. Your O.W.Ls were coming around, and you had the stupid pink toad umbridge for a teacher. she was a pain in the ass, constantly punishing students for practically no reason.

Because McGonagall understood how everyone was in low spirits, she introduced the muggle idea of candy grams. There were some students who found them stupid since they derived from muggles, but you wanted to try it. So, on the fourteenth of february, you bought one. Sent it to George. left it anonymous, because you just wanted him to know someone out there liked him.

you regretted sending that damn candy gram not even 20 minutes later, the moment he came bounding into the common room with a pesky grin on his face, yelling out your name.

"what?" you said as you looked up from your book.

he shoved the paper under your nose, effectively poking you in the eyes with the corner of the paper. "look! someone sent me a candy gram." he grinned at you.

"congrats?" you say, trying to keep your cool, hoping that he couldn't tell that you were the one that wrote it. You didn't want to lose his friendship. It really meant too much to you, and you'd probably rather die than lose him.

"do you not get the significance of this moment?" he clutched his chest dramatically.

"i refuse to believe someone actually has a crush on you. You're such a menace to society." you tell him, rolling your eyes, trying to keep yourself together and not end up screaming and running away.

There's a knowing glint in his eyes that you don't seem to notice, but he doesn't respond or comment on anything. He shoves the note under your nose again, forcing you to read it.

"Dearest George,

I hope this note finds you well. I couldn't keep these feelings hidden any longer, but I must remain anonymous for now. Over the years, I've cherished our friendship more than words can express. But it's evolved into something deeper, something I can't deny.

You've become the light of my life, and I can't help but feel a love that goes beyond friendship. If one day, you discover who I am and feel the same way, I'll be waiting, ready to take a chance for us.

Until then, I remain in secrecy.

sincerely and with love,

a secret admirer"

he reads out by heart, as if he's memorised the entire thing already. you gape at him, not knowing what you're actually supposed to say right now. nothing has prepared you for this moment.

"well?" he demands, plopping his weight down on the cushion next to you.

"well what?" you ask him, slightly flushed from having a love note you've written read out to you by the person you like.

"what do you think? who do you think it is?" he questions you, bombarding you with several questions when you're still trying to process what possessed you to send him the candy gram in the first place.

"man, i don't know." you tell him, shrugging, turning back to your book, trying to move the topic on.

"oh come on y/n! help me out here! I'm your best friend..." he whines, dropping his head in your lap. It's a common habit of his, invading your personal space, but let's be honest, you don't mind in the slightest.

"what do you want me to do?" you sigh. He always has a way of making you crumble. He beams instantly, Sitting upright again, almost head butting you and giving you a lovely little concussion.

"help me find out who it is!" he responds with a cheeky grin.

"why, george? are you going to make fun of them or something?" you sigh tiredly, really wanting him to give up on this, but you know how he is. once he starts, it's hard to get him to stop.

"because, what if she's hot?" he wiggles his eyebrows at you, and you can't help but crack a smile at his simplicity.

"just because she might be hot? What if she's super ugly? What will you do then?" You tease him, but you do want to know what he's going to do when he finds out it was you, and crushes his hopes of it being Angelina Johnson.

"I know she's pretty." he responds in retaliation.

"how do you know?" you challenge, raising your eyebrow at him as you question your own sanity for liking someone like him.

"It's a gut feeling." he shrugs his shoulders, before standing up from the couch, offering you his hand to pull you up. you set your book down with a sad sigh, accepting his hand as he pulls you up. His hand envelops yours easily, as if they fit together, and his hands are a nice kind of warm, warm enough to make you feel happy, but not warm enough to make you clammy and sweaty. the perfect balance.

he's a lot stronger than you give him credit for, and he pulls you up easily, till you're standing almost chest to chest, well more like head to chest, since he's so much taller than you. If you looked up at him, you would be close enough to kiss. His smell envelopes you, a rich smell of freshly upturned grass and the smell of smoke and a Christmas fire.

you clear your throat abruptly, and the pair of you spring apart. you're avoiding eye contact with george, but if you looked at him you would see how the tips of his ears are red enough to match the colour of his hair.

You get a strange look from the other people in the common room, and fred, who's been close enough to hear the entire conversation, grins at what he's just realised.

He lets out a light chuckle, and you turn to look at him, raising your eyebrow. He shrugs and grins. George's deliberately avoiding eye contact, looking everywhere but you. Fred laughs louder, to the point where he needs to lean on the edge of a couch to prevent himself from falling over.

George pauses, looks at you, before he grins. "You can start helping me tomorrow." He says, before bouncing away, out of the portrait hole. Fred laughs even louder. You turn to him again, before frowning.

"what?" you ask him. It sets him off again, he only stops laughing when he starts coughing.

Fred holds up his finger, and you wait till he regains his composure. He takes another look at you before it sets him off again. You groan.

"I think i know who sent my dear brother the candy gram." He says, wiping a tear away from his eye with his index.

"oh yeah? who?" you ask. Your heart's thumping in your ears, but you're trying your best to seem calm and collected.

a smile stretches across his face, and he looks like he's planning something. "oh, my dear y/n. I do indeed. It seems the girl and i are quite close." he purrs, pulling you close into a hug. You sigh, wrapping your arms around fred.

"please don't tell him." you whisper, hiding your face into his chest. he smiles. He's viewed you as a little sister since the beginning, and he's glad you feel the same way for his brother as his brother does for you.

"i wouldn't dream of it. Unless.....?" he starts, but drifts off, not finishing the sentence.

"fred!" you whine, irritated.

"okay, okay." he laughs, pulling back from the hug, resting his hands on your shoulder, staring deep into your eyes. suddenly he goes serious, the smile dropping off his face quick.

"but seriously. If you never tell him, i'll do it eventually. You can't stay secret admirer forever, and i'm most likely going to die of frustration just watching you two." He finishes. Stepping back, plopping down onto the couch

"i shouldn't have done it fred! i don't know what i was thinking." you groan, hiding your face in his shoulder, plopping down next to him.

"well i think it was a good idea." fred says, throwing an arm carelessly across your shoulder. you groan in response, closing your eyes with a sigh.

the next couple of days are strange, to say the least. George actively seeks you out more than usual, the only topic he speaks of is his secret admirer. It's quite strange, having the object of your affections constantly speak of a romantic gesture you made toward them without them knowing. It's nice, but quite scary, to say the least.

there's the constant fear of being discovered, and when discovered, you're afraid that george is going to be disappointed that you were the one that sent it to him and not Angelina Johnson.

but whatever, you need to act as inconspicuous as possible, right? fred certainly isn't helping, constantly giggling to himself whenever the topic is brought up, while george flashes him a questioning side eye.

one day after potions lesson during lunch, you and george remain behind in the classrooms, cleaning up as a form of punishment from professor snape.

you're kneeling on the floor, cleaning up a spill from some third years. without magic. if it wasn't obvious that snape hated you beforehand, it is now.

you don't even remember what exactly it was that you did, but here you are anyway. george, who somehow got the easier task, is just sitting on a chair as he scrubs at some of the tables in the room.

"this is all your fault, george." you blame, rubbing at the persistent stain on the floor.

"how? you were the one giggling too loudly." george throws back at you. very maturely, you throw the rag you're using at his face. he blocks it, instead of hitting his face, it hits his arm with a wet 'thwump'.

'hey!" he complains at you, throwing it back at you. you duck out of the way, and it hits the wall behind you with another wet sound.

you turn to stare at where it went, and you look back at him, before you burst out into giggles together.

suddenly, you hear the sounds of footsteps, and knowing snape, you stumble to get the rag and go back the stain, rubbing at it with the best of your ability.

you hear the sound of the door groaning on its hinges as it slams open, revealing a disgruntled and angry prof snape.

“i thought. i heard laughter.” he drawls in his cold and distatched tone, the corner of his mouth turning down in distaste.

“no, professor. we wouldn’t dare. Perhaps it was Peeves running through.” you answer, in your best imitation of a innocent student, and professor turns his eyes onto you, glaring at you with distaste.

“i’d hope not. if i hear another peep out of you both, it’s 50 points from gryffindor. each.” he teels you, before swishing around in his ridiculous cape and exiting through the door.

you both turn to each other slowly, before doubling over in silent laughter, clutching your stomach insanely.

once you’ve both managed to contain yourselves, you get back to the work you’re supposed to doing, letting the silence pass between you comfortably.

you hear a little sigh leave george’s mouth, and you turn to look at him, noticing that he’s already looking at you.

“what?” you ask him, raising your brow at him.

he flushes a red that makes his freckles stand out, and you wish so desperately to count them all at some point.

you will manage to do that at some point if you’re lucky..you’ll probably have to disguise it as some kind of friendly activity…

he avoids your eye contact and he sighs, before looking back up at you for a second, before he asks, “are you sure you don’t know who wrote the candy gram?”

your heart stutters in your chest, a little part of you feeling an intense need to run as fast and as far as possible.

“yeah. sorry, george. I promise I asked around.” you so blatantly lie, and he just kind of stares at you, and he doesn’t look impressed at all. you swear his left eye twitches a little.

after a beat of you avoiding as much eye contact with him as possible, by looking somewhere else, anywhere else from him, because he honestly scares you a little and honestly any thing to do with your emotions so obviously displayed is quite terrifying.

another moment passes by you, and you try to turn your attention back to the stain you’re scrubbing at. you begin to stand up, about to go get some more soap to make sure the stain really does get out, when you hear george call your name.

‘….you do realise I can recognise your handwriting, right? we’ve been friends for ages.” he tells you, and your head whips to him so fast, you get whiplash.

“what?” you respond, ever the poet.

“your handwriting. I know you sent me the candy gram.” he mutters, standing up to match you, stalking forwards with his eyes set on you. “why are you lying?” he asks you, stopping right in front of you.

you can’t respond. you’re frozen, mouth wide open as you gape at him. he’s very close to you now, and you feel your heart thumping in your chest. “i don’t know what you’re talking about.” you lie, walking sideways as he follows you, while you try to face the door to escape.

“i know, for sure, that it was you who sent it to me.” He asserts again, following you, not to closely as to make you uncomfortable, as he is ever the kindest soul you will ever know.

you know that you are not ready to have this conversation right now, so you feign that someone is calling your name, and make a run for it. “oh. is that someone calling me? oh yes it is. Yes I’m coming!”

george tries to stop you, by putting an arm out to block you, but you duck under, sprinting out the door as quick as you can.

you’re swearing as you run, and you hear him call out your name, once, twice and then silence.

pt 2

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

a/n -> this has been in my drafts for much more than a year so im glad i finally got it out...

pls pls pls pls interact and comment i love reading comments

[adhdduckie]

rip satoru gojo, you would have loved crumbl cookies

[adhdduckie]

hbd king

still not yours ; g.s. x reader, s.g. x reader

synopsis ;gojo has made the biggest mistake of his fucking life. he wants you back, but you don't want him, because now, you're with suguru. Tw: ANGST no fluff no comfort

#nofluffwedielikemen, lowkey happy ending for reader, not for gojo

PT 1

my masterlist

jjk masterlist

A/N : since there were a couple of people asking for a continuation, i thought i'd give it a go. in this one you've ended up with suguru, and gojo is finally understanding what he's missing.

1k (its a bit short, soz)

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

gojo has fucked up. royally. like he's definitely fucked up before, but god, he's never fucked up this bad.

to fully understand what's happened, we need to go back to the beginning of his and yuki's relationship, to where we left off last.

you had been crying in your bed, after yuki and gojo had finally announced that their relationship was serious, and that they were both hopelessly in love with each other.

you had heard a knock at your door in the midst of your sobbing, and you paused, before you let out a small "go away."

the knocking stopped briefly, before suguru announced himself.

the door opened, and he walked through, sitting on the edge of the bed as he looked at you with what you felt like was extreme pity.

not wanting to see what how he was looking at you, you turned your face into the pillow hiding it from his eye of sight.

"hey, hey. it's okay. it's okay." he told you, patting you on the back.

"this is embarrassing." you cried, trying to laugh behind your tears.

"c'mon, look at me." suguru told you, trying to ease you into sitting up and to look at him.

"i've got snacks." he tells you. that does it for you and you slowly sit up, trying to look at him, hiccuping through the tears that are streaming down your face.

he wordlessly passes the bag full of your favourite snacks to you, and you lean into him, letting him hug you.

"i feel so dumb." you tell him, hiding your face in his shirt.

"it's okay, he's the dumb one for missing out." getou tells you, combing his fingers through your hair. from that moment when getou had chosen to come to you to make sure you were alright, that changed everything.

as months passed, you felt yourself slowly feeling the love you had for satoru to slowly melt away, into a kind of reluctant favouritism of a friend.

because, no matter what, satoru would always just be your friend, and nothing else.

and in that time, you felt yourself falling hard and fast for getou.

it was everything about him.

the way how you were always the first person he'd talk to in a group, and how if you all went out together, he'd always be stuck by your side, to make sure that you were okay.

you thought you would never feel as cared for as you were by getou's side, because he knew you, like he really seemed to know you.

he was always just there for you, and spending so much time with him every day really changes the way you see someone.

and again, you felt like you might just actually have a chance.

you'd never heard him talk of any other girls, and so, at some point, you confessed your feelings for him. he'd been so happy at that moment, he'd picked you up and twirled you around, laughing as he pulled you close and kissed you hard on the mouth.

he'd been waiting forever for you, but he just knew that one day, you'd love him too.

and when you finally debut your relationship in your friend group, shoko's so happy for you she swears she's not crying, but you think you see a tear collect in her eyes. yuki's happy and congratulates you, but gojo, he feels something wrong in his chest.

something is so wrong in his chest. he manages to mutter out a half arsed congratulations and he turns his attention back to his phone.

he can’t just quite figure it out, and when yuki tries to pull him closer to her by the loops on his jeans, he realises he doesn’t really want her to touch him, and he’s never really enjoyed it for some reason in the beginning.

he thinks he’s getting sick. there’s something so wrong with him right now. and he really hasn’t told anyone this, but almost as soon as he got with yuki for real, he lost interest.

that sounded bad, sure, but once he actually got with her, she just seemed, too good. they never fought or anything, and there seemed to be no actual passion in their relationship, because everything was just, okay.

and that’s all it was with yuki, just okay.

from that moment on, gojo started noticing things he never noticed before.

how, for every lesson that the two of you had together, he was excited to go to, because he knew that he’d see you, and he’d be excited to talk to you.

and how if you all hung out, he wanted to talk to you the most, and mostly you.

and how he started to notice all the smallest things about you he forgot he’d ever even noticed in the first place, like how your hair fell over your eyes, the way you’d blink up at him when he said something that you were trying not to laugh at, and how you’d lean against a chair, or just the way you sat.

and maybe then, he started resenting a bit of getou. it took him a while to fully comprehend why. he had finally, finally realised that he was in love with you.

and god, gojo knew it was wrong. getou was his best friend, he should have known better. but secretly, gojo wanted you to break up, and realise how in love you were with him.

and there wasn’t a day that went by that gojo wished he had said something other than “that’s funny” when you told him that you used to like him, but his heart had stopped in his chest, and he really didn’t know what else he could have said at that moment.

and when he finally realised this, gojo broke up with yuki.

yuki, he thought, seemed secretly glad that they had broken up, and so he wasn’t too worried about how she was feeling about it.

and everyone asked why they broke up, and he couldn’t just tell him that he was in love with his best friend’s girlfriend, so he just told them that he didn’t love her anymore, and when you asked, he damn well almost blurted out “i’m in love with you.”

and that shit hurt, because there was nothing he could do about it now, and god he knew he really fucked up.

but getou had the girl now, and he still wasn’t yours.

@disilluzions @jprincesssf @superirisss

[adhdduckie]

not the one! g.s. x reader

synopsis ; you're in love with gojo. he doesn't love you back. It takes you awhile to realise this, and you find out in a way you wish you'd never. Tw: ANGST no fluff no comfort #nofluffwedielikemen my masterlist

jjk masterlist

A/N : guys sorry this came out of nowhere and kinda possessed me (did not at all stem from my own lovelife, no not at all, this was just something that came out of nowhere!)

PT 2

1.5k -------

being in love with gojo as his friend was pretty insane, a lot of the time.

the first time you ever even said that maybe you loved him, you cringed. it sounded weird, but even when shoko gave you a weird look, you knew that it was to be true.

sometimes, you'd swear that maybe, just maybe, he'd love you back. you'd read too much into stares, and lingering touches.

you'd think too much of how he just always seems to be just around the corner of wherever you'd be, and how he always seemed to be looking at you and only you.

you'd think that because of the smiles his friends throw your way, the fact that getou had spoken to you about him a lot, and how getou always made sure to wave at you when he was with gojo.

how gojo's eyes would seem to light up when he saw you, but maybe that was just his big baby blues, but honestly, anything would have made him look brighter. If you thought about it, maybe it was the sweets you always seemed to have on you, just always specifically for him.

and getou knew, and maybe gojo did too, but the fact that he never changed the way he looked at you meant that he felt the same way too, but he was just afraid to tell you, because that it's quite daunting! and if he needed it, you'd wait till the end of the world for him. this was so embarrassing, you'd think to yourself, finding yourself talking about him for the umpteenth time that day to your friends, who seemed interest in the conversation enough, but you knew they were just waiting for you to stop!

and maybe if you were more rational, you'd think properly. like, well obviously he was basically around every corner, you'd attended the same school and it was just you four students in the year anyway. and obviously he stares a lot, he's pretty unpredictable, and tends to just be super affectionate with everyone.

and getou's your close friend, of course you're gonna be getting smiles from him, because he's your friend. getou obviously is gonna just acknowledge you, because yet again you're his friend. and when you were away from gojo, you could think pretty rationally. "there's no way he likes me" you'd think, and "I gotta stop liking him, this isn't gonna go anywhere." and you were right, but once you saw him again, it was as if you hadn't even considered this at all in the first place, and it was completely gone from your mind. but all in all, no matter what, there was nothing you could do, because if you'd been reading everything wrong, you'd ruin your relationship, and you could never ever be with him at all, not even as his friend anymore. this is the conclusion that you came to one friday night, and honestly, it really did hurt, but then the next day, when he was sitting next to you super close and leaving absolutely no personal space to you, and then it was gone all over again. but when you finally realised, for the first time, that gojo didn't love you at all, was when you'd gone out to the convenience store with gojo, getou and shoko. You'd been standing in the aisle staring at some quick noodles, and gojo's arm had been slung over your shoulder.

you were trying to pretend that you weren't phased at all, but your heart was thumping non-stop in your chest. Shoko had given you a grin and a thumbs up, discreetly to cheer you on and hold yourself together. it had felt, for a moment, quite domestic and romantic. gojo was tactile, you knew this, but you also knew that he wouldn't do this to shoko, so it gave you some doomed hope. not like the hope was gonna last long anyway.

gojo's standing there, with his arm wrapped around your shoulder, and he sighs.

your attention turns to him from the generic brand quick noodle brand in your hand, and you frown, worried. "what's wrong?" you ask him, turning your attention back to the quick noodles on the shelf. "i got no baes." he says, blatantly.

you pause, very confused. "what do you mean?" "I mean that I can't get a girlfriend." he says, drooping a little as he even pouts, and you can't help but want to hit him.

you're not prepared for that sucker gut punch that it seems to give you, and you wince a little. you hear a smack in the vague distance, and you can only assume that it's nobara smacking herself in the face in exasperation at gojo, but you can't really think about that just now. after awhile, you hear yourself going; "loser." and you walk away. that's it, that's all you say. but you try not to think too much about it because that's rather normal behaviour.

you join shoko at the counter, and she slaps you reassuringly on the back, and she says that : "he's an idiot." and you have to agree, even if it's half-arsed, and you're muttering while you're staring off. it gives you time to think, because, if he did know that you liked him, and he liked you, wouldn't he just do something about it? in the distance, you hear a small cheer, and you manage to snap out of it. "what just happened?" you ask shoko as you watch gojo jump up and down like a kid, with getou standing next to him, shaking his head in exasperation. shoko looks at you with pity evident on her face. "getou said that he'd hook gojo up with someone." shoko tells you. you can hear the heart beating in your ears, and manage to limit your emotions to a small little frown that only shoko can see. "i'm sorry" she whispers to you, pulling you in for a hug. you shrug, not exactly sure what you're supposed to do in this moment. you're there when gojo first meets yuki. it's been weeks, and you hear about her non-stop. it's always yuki this, yuki that, and you can never seem to escape it. gojo always needs to talk to her, and you just can't take it anymore. and you see her, for the first time, and she's gorgeous. she's sweet, and she's everything you want to be, and in every single way. you want to be the one that gojo is all happy to see, he's chasing her like you would have chased him, like you did chase him. but unlike her, he didn't turn around to see you, as she did for him. the first time you see them hug, shoko's there, holding your hand. because she knows you love him, even if you won't even want to say it yourself. but he's happy with her. you tell yourself, the first time you see them kiss. he's happy with her and that's all that matters. it doesn't matter that he skips hangouts with you to be with her, it doesn't matter that he completely ignores you for her, and it doesn't matter that when you both sparred, and had a clash of powers, both of you were injured and ran to her, only helping her as you laid there bleeding. It doesn't matter.

it doesn't matter that you don't even see him anymore, and that he skipped out on your birthday just because she wanted to see him. and it really, really doesn't matter, when you 'jokingly' tell him that you used to like him, and he laughs and he says "that's funny." because honestly, that hurts, and you really hate it.

you want to resent getou for getting them together, but you can't because you can't even blame him, because, it's not his fault. nothing would have changed the way he saw you, not with yuki around at least.

and god, you couldn't stop thinking about them. how they would hold hands, how he'd offer his jacket for her if she so much as sneezed at the slightest cold weather, and how she would look at him as if he had hung the moon and the sky and the stars. and you look at her, and you think, god, is that how i look at him? but it's okay for her to do that, because he looks at her the same way.

and sometimes, you lie in bed at night by yourself, and you're overcome with the thought that she might be with him right now in another bed somewhere else, and it makes you sick to your stomach, that it's someone else. But no matter what, nothing will change how things have played out.

and it makes you cry. it really does. you think to yourself that if hanahaki really existed, you would be affected by it, no questions asked, and that thought makes you so upset, because honestly, what did you do to deserve this? but the fact that he's happy makes it all worth it. at least, that's what you tell yourself.

[adhdduckie]

not the one! g.s. x reader

synopsis ; you're in love with gojo. he doesn't love you back. It takes you awhile to realise this, and you find out in a way you wish you'd never. Tw: ANGST no fluff no comfort #nofluffwedielikemen my masterlist

jjk masterlist

A/N : guys sorry this came out of nowhere and kinda possessed me (did not at all stem from my own lovelife, no not at all, this was just something that came out of nowhere!)

PT 2

1.5k -------

being in love with gojo as his friend was pretty insane, a lot of the time.

the first time you ever even said that maybe you loved him, you cringed. it sounded weird, but even when shoko gave you a weird look, you knew that it was to be true.

sometimes, you'd swear that maybe, just maybe, he'd love you back. you'd read too much into stares, and lingering touches.

you'd think too much of how he just always seems to be just around the corner of wherever you'd be, and how he always seemed to be looking at you and only you.

you'd think that because of the smiles his friends throw your way, the fact that getou had spoken to you about him a lot, and how getou always made sure to wave at you when he was with gojo.

how gojo's eyes would seem to light up when he saw you, but maybe that was just his big baby blues, but honestly, anything would have made him look brighter. If you thought about it, maybe it was the sweets you always seemed to have on you, just always specifically for him.

and getou knew, and maybe gojo did too, but the fact that he never changed the way he looked at you meant that he felt the same way too, but he was just afraid to tell you, because that it's quite daunting! and if he needed it, you'd wait till the end of the world for him. this was so embarrassing, you'd think to yourself, finding yourself talking about him for the umpteenth time that day to your friends, who seemed interest in the conversation enough, but you knew they were just waiting for you to stop!

and maybe if you were more rational, you'd think properly. like, well obviously he was basically around every corner, you'd attended the same school and it was just you four students in the year anyway. and obviously he stares a lot, he's pretty unpredictable, and tends to just be super affectionate with everyone.

and getou's your close friend, of course you're gonna be getting smiles from him, because he's your friend. getou obviously is gonna just acknowledge you, because yet again you're his friend. and when you were away from gojo, you could think pretty rationally. "there's no way he likes me" you'd think, and "I gotta stop liking him, this isn't gonna go anywhere." and you were right, but once you saw him again, it was as if you hadn't even considered this at all in the first place, and it was completely gone from your mind. but all in all, no matter what, there was nothing you could do, because if you'd been reading everything wrong, you'd ruin your relationship, and you could never ever be with him at all, not even as his friend anymore. this is the conclusion that you came to one friday night, and honestly, it really did hurt, but then the next day, when he was sitting next to you super close and leaving absolutely no personal space to you, and then it was gone all over again. but when you finally realised, for the first time, that gojo didn't love you at all, was when you'd gone out to the convenience store with gojo, getou and shoko. You'd been standing in the aisle staring at some quick noodles, and gojo's arm had been slung over your shoulder.

you were trying to pretend that you weren't phased at all, but your heart was thumping non-stop in your chest. Shoko had given you a grin and a thumbs up, discreetly to cheer you on and hold yourself together. it had felt, for a moment, quite domestic and romantic. gojo was tactile, you knew this, but you also knew that he wouldn't do this to shoko, so it gave you some doomed hope. not like the hope was gonna last long anyway.

gojo's standing there, with his arm wrapped around your shoulder, and he sighs.

your attention turns to him from the generic brand quick noodle brand in your hand, and you frown, worried. "what's wrong?" you ask him, turning your attention back to the quick noodles on the shelf. "i got no baes." he says, blatantly.

you pause, very confused. "what do you mean?" "I mean that I can't get a girlfriend." he says, drooping a little as he even pouts, and you can't help but want to hit him.

you're not prepared for that sucker gut punch that it seems to give you, and you wince a little. you hear a smack in the vague distance, and you can only assume that it's nobara smacking herself in the face in exasperation at gojo, but you can't really think about that just now. after awhile, you hear yourself going; "loser." and you walk away. that's it, that's all you say. but you try not to think too much about it because that's rather normal behaviour.

you join shoko at the counter, and she slaps you reassuringly on the back, and she says that : "he's an idiot." and you have to agree, even if it's half-arsed, and you're muttering while you're staring off. it gives you time to think, because, if he did know that you liked him, and he liked you, wouldn't he just do something about it? in the distance, you hear a small cheer, and you manage to snap out of it. "what just happened?" you ask shoko as you watch gojo jump up and down like a kid, with getou standing next to him, shaking his head in exasperation. shoko looks at you with pity evident on her face. "getou said that he'd hook gojo up with someone." shoko tells you. you can hear the heart beating in your ears, and manage to limit your emotions to a small little frown that only shoko can see. "i'm sorry" she whispers to you, pulling you in for a hug. you shrug, not exactly sure what you're supposed to do in this moment. you're there when gojo first meets yuki. it's been weeks, and you hear about her non-stop. it's always yuki this, yuki that, and you can never seem to escape it. gojo always needs to talk to her, and you just can't take it anymore. and you see her, for the first time, and she's gorgeous. she's sweet, and she's everything you want to be, and in every single way. you want to be the one that gojo is all happy to see, he's chasing her like you would have chased him, like you did chase him. but unlike her, he didn't turn around to see you, as she did for him. the first time you see them hug, shoko's there, holding your hand. because she knows you love him, even if you won't even want to say it yourself. but he's happy with her. you tell yourself, the first time you see them kiss. he's happy with her and that's all that matters. it doesn't matter that he skips hangouts with you to be with her, it doesn't matter that he completely ignores you for her, and it doesn't matter that when you both sparred, and had a clash of powers, both of you were injured and ran to her, only helping her as you laid there bleeding. It doesn't matter.

it doesn't matter that you don't even see him anymore, and that he skipped out on your birthday just because she wanted to see him. and it really, really doesn't matter, when you 'jokingly' tell him that you used to like him, and he laughs and he says "that's funny." because honestly, that hurts, and you really hate it.

you want to resent getou for getting them together, but you can't because you can't even blame him, because, it's not his fault. nothing would have changed the way he saw you, not with yuki around at least.

and god, you couldn't stop thinking about them. how they would hold hands, how he'd offer his jacket for her if she so much as sneezed at the slightest cold weather, and how she would look at him as if he had hung the moon and the sky and the stars. and you look at her, and you think, god, is that how i look at him? but it's okay for her to do that, because he looks at her the same way.

and sometimes, you lie in bed at night by yourself, and you're overcome with the thought that she might be with him right now in another bed somewhere else, and it makes you sick to your stomach, that it's someone else. But no matter what, nothing will change how things have played out.

and it makes you cry. it really does. you think to yourself that if hanahaki really existed, you would be affected by it, no questions asked, and that thought makes you so upset, because honestly, what did you do to deserve this? but the fact that he's happy makes it all worth it. at least, that's what you tell yourself.

[adhdduckie]

still not yours ; g.s. x reader, s.g. x reader

synopsis ;gojo has made the biggest mistake of his fucking life. he wants you back, but you don't want him, because now, you're with suguru. Tw: ANGST no fluff no comfort

#nofluffwedielikemen, lowkey happy ending for reader, not for gojo

PT 1

my masterlist

jjk masterlist

A/N : since there were a couple of people asking for a continuation, i thought i'd give it a go. in this one you've ended up with suguru, and gojo is finally understanding what he's missing.

1k (its a bit short, soz)

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

gojo has fucked up. royally. like he's definitely fucked up before, but god, he's never fucked up this bad.

to fully understand what's happened, we need to go back to the beginning of his and yuki's relationship, to where we left off last.

you had been crying in your bed, after yuki and gojo had finally announced that their relationship was serious, and that they were both hopelessly in love with each other.

you had heard a knock at your door in the midst of your sobbing, and you paused, before you let out a small "go away."

the knocking stopped briefly, before suguru announced himself.

the door opened, and he walked through, sitting on the edge of the bed as he looked at you with what you felt like was extreme pity.

not wanting to see what how he was looking at you, you turned your face into the pillow hiding it from his eye of sight.

"hey, hey. it's okay. it's okay." he told you, patting you on the back.

"this is embarrassing." you cried, trying to laugh behind your tears.

"c'mon, look at me." suguru told you, trying to ease you into sitting up and to look at him.

"i've got snacks." he tells you. that does it for you and you slowly sit up, trying to look at him, hiccuping through the tears that are streaming down your face.

he wordlessly passes the bag full of your favourite snacks to you, and you lean into him, letting him hug you.

"i feel so dumb." you tell him, hiding your face in his shirt.

"it's okay, he's the dumb one for missing out." getou tells you, combing his fingers through your hair. from that moment when getou had chosen to come to you to make sure you were alright, that changed everything.

as months passed, you felt yourself slowly feeling the love you had for satoru to slowly melt away, into a kind of reluctant favouritism of a friend.

because, no matter what, satoru would always just be your friend, and nothing else.

and in that time, you felt yourself falling hard and fast for getou.

it was everything about him.

the way how you were always the first person he'd talk to in a group, and how if you all went out together, he'd always be stuck by your side, to make sure that you were okay.

you thought you would never feel as cared for as you were by getou's side, because he knew you, like he really seemed to know you.

he was always just there for you, and spending so much time with him every day really changes the way you see someone.

and again, you felt like you might just actually have a chance.

you'd never heard him talk of any other girls, and so, at some point, you confessed your feelings for him. he'd been so happy at that moment, he'd picked you up and twirled you around, laughing as he pulled you close and kissed you hard on the mouth.

he'd been waiting forever for you, but he just knew that one day, you'd love him too.

and when you finally debut your relationship in your friend group, shoko's so happy for you she swears she's not crying, but you think you see a tear collect in her eyes. yuki's happy and congratulates you, but gojo, he feels something wrong in his chest.

something is so wrong in his chest. he manages to mutter out a half arsed congratulations and he turns his attention back to his phone.

he can’t just quite figure it out, and when yuki tries to pull him closer to her by the loops on his jeans, he realises he doesn’t really want her to touch him, and he’s never really enjoyed it for some reason in the beginning.

he thinks he’s getting sick. there’s something so wrong with him right now. and he really hasn’t told anyone this, but almost as soon as he got with yuki for real, he lost interest.

that sounded bad, sure, but once he actually got with her, she just seemed, too good. they never fought or anything, and there seemed to be no actual passion in their relationship, because everything was just, okay.

and that’s all it was with yuki, just okay.

from that moment on, gojo started noticing things he never noticed before.

how, for every lesson that the two of you had together, he was excited to go to, because he knew that he’d see you, and he’d be excited to talk to you.

and how if you all hung out, he wanted to talk to you the most, and mostly you.

and how he started to notice all the smallest things about you he forgot he’d ever even noticed in the first place, like how your hair fell over your eyes, the way you’d blink up at him when he said something that you were trying not to laugh at, and how you’d lean against a chair, or just the way you sat.

and maybe then, he started resenting a bit of getou. it took him a while to fully comprehend why. he had finally, finally realised that he was in love with you.

and god, gojo knew it was wrong. getou was his best friend, he should have known better. but secretly, gojo wanted you to break up, and realise how in love you were with him.

and there wasn’t a day that went by that gojo wished he had said something other than “that’s funny” when you told him that you used to like him, but his heart had stopped in his chest, and he really didn’t know what else he could have said at that moment.

and when he finally realised this, gojo broke up with yuki.

yuki, he thought, seemed secretly glad that they had broken up, and so he wasn’t too worried about how she was feeling about it.

and everyone asked why they broke up, and he couldn’t just tell him that he was in love with his best friend’s girlfriend, so he just told them that he didn’t love her anymore, and when you asked, he damn well almost blurted out “i’m in love with you.”

and that shit hurt, because there was nothing he could do about it now, and god he knew he really fucked up.

but getou had the girl now, and he still wasn’t yours.

@disilluzions @jprincesssf @superirisss

[adhdduckie]

second choice - teen!gojo x reader

synopsis : you've loved him since the beginning, so you want to be there for him. in an attempt to speak to gojo after getou has abandoned you all, you tell him that you know you're not the first choice for him to speak to, but he wants you to know you're the first choice for everything else.

pairing; gojo x reader

wc: 2.2k

A/N: this has been in my drafts for like a year, jesus. hope yall enjoy.

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gojo has been different since the death of riko amanai. taking on more and more missions, spending less time with the rest of you. he's no longer the same gojo you fell in love with when you first met him, but you still do love him, he's just going through a rough patch.

ever since he finally understood his technique, the higher ups have been forcing him to go on more trips. you saw him every couple of months, but it wasn't the same as seeing him every single day. the messages you sent him being left on delivered, as if he didn't even want to read the messages you sent him.

when getou and gojo were protecting amanai as their mission, you and shoko had been doing your own thing. When geto came back with the absence of gojo, you freaked out. screamed, cried and basically just swore revenge on toji. you hated toji for taking gojo away from you.

when gojo came back covered in blood, and with a slightly feral look in his eyes, you jumped into his arms, throwing your arms around his neck and sobbing into his shoulder. He kind of just awkwardly patted your back with his hands, and gave you a sly smile, before speaking.

"what you crying for? i'm not dead, am I?" he said, before letting you go. the smile didn't really reach his eyes fully, and maybe that was the first time you noticed something was truly different.

"you fucking idiot." you responded with a laugh, wiping your tears away from your eyes, feeling slightly stupid about how emotional you were.

a year later after amanai's death, after geto left, things were even worse. you remember how gojo started screaming at yagi. you stood behind in the classroom, having just finished talking with the teacher, as you heard gojo's yells.

it had been a shock to you, too, to hear of getou's sins. geto used to be so kind, so nice to you. he helped you with things in class you didn't understand, bought you cold drinks from the vending machines as you sparred with shoko.

you should have seen it coming, you told yourself. how did you not notice his spiralling? How could you not be there for him? alas, it was far too late to even do anything now, especially after gojo confronted him in front of the kfc, strangely you had been sitting in the kfc, eating your lunch.

the lady beside you didn’t understand why you randomly started sobbing in the middle of your food, but you knew you couldn’t intervene, as this is something that was happening between the two of them, because you knew their connection would always be so much stronger than yours.

it was not exactly something you wanted to watch, although you hadn't known everything they were saying, you had a feeling of what was going on, and you didn't want to interrupt.

after the kfc confrontation, gojo was worse. taking on more and more missions, refusing to talk to you when you tried to see how he was doing. it was sad, especially because he had been such a close friend, and now he was just pushing you away.

it hurt much more due to the fact you cared for him beyond a normal friend should, but there really was nothing you could do. you sought him out when you knew he was back from missions, knocking at his door at various times in the night, praying to some god, some entity, really anything that would get him to open the door.

but your knocks always went unanswered. always. you thought maybe you were close enough that he’d trust you enough to talk with you, but apparently not.

the loss of haibara had taken a toll on you, seeing how he was basically a little brother to you, and you felt like maybe you could relate to gojo, and see how the both of you may have something in common to talk about, to make sure that you both had someone to support, and that spiralling didn’t happen again.

shoko was alright, for the most part. you had made sure to support her as much as you could, and she did what she could in return, but she had never been so close with getou and haibara as much as you did, as when she discovered her reverse cursed technique, she spent most of her time in the morgue, and it was the three of you on missions in the end.

and maybe you were starting to spiral yourself. life as a jujutsu sorcerer had really begun to take its toll on you, and you were beginning to understand just how much nanami had hated the life of a jujutsu sorcerer, and how he talked about how he wanted to go off as a salesman, quoting that “jujutsu is shit!”

despite having support around you, you really felt like you were missing something, and the only way you could ever really support yourself was getting some quiet time. the loss of haibara and getou was a strong one, and because other students understood this, they tried to make you feel as best as you could, even if you wanted alone time sometimes, which led to you feeling overwhelmed a lot of the time.

and because shoko would barge into your room whenever she could, you had taken to the rooftops as a way to escape questioning and the constant coddling of everyone else. it was quiet up there, and you liked the escape.

one specific night, you had been sitting up there for multiple hours, just staring off into the distance.

at some point, it had started to rain, but that had only really registered briefly in your head. the rain was light, so it wasn’t much of a problem.

you’d been sitting there for the best of three hours, just watching the clouds pass you by.

at some point you feel a small shift in the atmosphere, and you freeze.

“what are you doing out of your room, satoru?” you ask him, not bothering to turn around.

you hear the clacking of the tiles on the roof as he walks closer towards you.

there’s suddenly a light pressure on your shoulders as a blanket is dropped around your shoulders.

“they thought you left, you know?” satoru responds quietly.

“what?” you ask him, finally turning around to face him as he drops next to you.

“shoko was freaked, because she hasn’t been able to find you for hours.” satoru tells you, shifting closer to you on the edge of the roof.

“…and what got you out of your room?” you ask him, frowning as you stare back out into your surroundings.

“she freaked out, went crazy on me. she was telling me about how unfair I had been, and how selfish i was for forgetting that getou wasn’t just my friend.” he sighs, drawing his legs to his chest, resting his chin on his arms.

“…she’s not wrong.” You respond. you’re feeling a bit numb, and you’re upset that it’s taken him this long to talk to you again, so you’re being mean.

“yeah. I’m sorry, i really am. I got so caught up in myself after riko and getou, and i forgot that you guys were also affected by everything. and you especially, i knew haibara meant a lot to you.” he tries to explain.

“well, satoru, we all needed someone. i did my best with shoko, and nanami. i couldn’t do it all myself, you know? i felt as if i was the only one that was still trying to make sure that everyone was okay, because you disappeared on all of us.”

“and i’m going insane, too. i hate the life of a jujutsu sorcerer, but it’s the one thing i’m good at, and the one thing that i can do. even if shoko is doing her best to support us all as well, it’s not the same, especially because i felt that you and i could relate the most, and be there for each other. and i understand if you needed time to yourself, but you just shut us all out. all of us.” you finish, feeling tears prick at your eyes.

you can’t make any eye contact with satoru. it’s been months since you last properly saw him, and you don’t want to see him when you’re crying like this, so you’re avoiding his eye contact as much as you can.

you take a deep breath, and you continue; “and then, i thought i lost you too. not only did someone i love die, my best friend’s gone, and the other one shut us all out. “

“and then, the one person i feel like i could talk to because we both lost so much, just completely shuts me out.” You’re full on crying now, not even trying to hide it.

satoru wordlessly pulls you closer, understanding that you need to vent out all of your frustrations, because for so long, you’ve been unable to do so.

and it’s so much coming out at once, that you’re just crying at this point.

“i’m sorry, i’m sorry. i should have been there for you.” he whispers, pulling you so you’re crying into his chest.

your fingers are all bunched into his shirt, and you’re crying, so so hard. this is the hardest you’ve cried since everything’s happened, and it just seems that you just couldn’t hold it in anymore.

and you’re sobbing uncontrollably, hiccuping as you cry. he’s rubbing comforting circles into your back, and you notice that his infinity is off for the first time in a long time, so you have to pause and you have to draw back.

when you do, your hands are resting on his shoulders, and you could swear that you don’t look pretty right now, but it’s too late.

his hand goes to cup your jaw, and he tries to smile tentatively at you. his smile is a bit shaky, and his eyes are brimmed red.

“i’m sorry, i’m sorry.” he repeats, using his thumb to brush against your jaw, resting his forehead against yours.

“i know you needed time, and i understand that, but i was really worried. but please, please please, from now on, check in with me every once in a while, okay? I know i’m not your first choice-” you get cut off by satoru, when he interrupts.

“what, what do you mean you’re not my first choice?” he asks, his thumb pausing its motions.

“just that, i know you would have preferred to talk to someone else.” you tell him, a little embarrassed that you have to say it out loud, because no matter how much you thought of him as a close friend, you still wanted him more than that, but it was never the time to tell him.

“you are, though. you know these last few months have been so hard for me?” he asks, “i kept thinking about how much i missed you and how much i wanted you to be there with me, but i couldn’t go find you, i just couldn’t.” he interrupts you, staring at you intently as he tries to explain his feelings.

“why couldn’t you?” you ask him, trying to fight back a shiver when he pulls back, as the loss of warmth registers. you can feel the hesitation in his voice before he speaks, you’re so fine tuned into everything that is gojo satoru.

“because, i thought you blamed me for getou leaving.” he whispers out, so broken hearted.

you scoff, feeling tears run down your cheeks due to such an emotionally charged conversation. ”of course, i don’t. none of us do. getou leaving was a result of the jujutsu world, from everything that has happened to us, from riko amanai’s death, the unjustness of the world, and the non-human sorcerers.” you respond, grasping his hand in your lap, trying to get him to understand just what you mean.

your eyes track the water that falls down his face from the rain, and it just registers to you again that you’re both probably going to get sick.

he leans forward into your touch, resting his forehead against yours again, as he feels everything seem to just dissipate from him, all the pressure he’s been for so long.

and because he’s here with you now, he finally understands.

he understands everything everyone means when they say that once they’re reunited with their loved ones, all their pain and suffering doesn’t just disappear, it just feels lighter, and easier to carry, because they’ve got the support of those around them.

“you are my first choice.” he whispers out as some kind of confession.

and despite yourself, you are able to let out a wet laugh, your eyes closing as you just rest your forehead against his, feeling him squeeze your hand in his. because this feels right. it finally feels right.

the silence passes comfortably, and soon, you realise you’re not even getting wet anymore. you realise he’s sharing his infinity with you, and this helps you finally understand what he means that how you are his first choice. it seems, you are his first choice, for everything.

“i love you.” he whispers, opening his eyes briefly to stare into yours, as he lifts his forehead from yours to press a light kiss to your forehead. you don’t respond, because you know he understands that you do love him too, when you pull him closer to hug him.

because, the pain and suffering is easier to bear, together.

[adhdduckie]

still not yours ; g.s. x reader, s.g. x reader

synopsis ;gojo has made the biggest mistake of his fucking life. he wants you back, but you don't want him, because now, you're with suguru. Tw: ANGST no fluff no comfort

#nofluffwedielikemen, lowkey happy ending for reader, not for gojo

PT 1

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A/N : since there were a couple of people asking for a continuation, i thought i'd give it a go. in this one you've ended up with suguru, and gojo is finally understanding what he's missing.

1k (its a bit short, soz)

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gojo has fucked up. royally. like he's definitely fucked up before, but god, he's never fucked up this bad.

to fully understand what's happened, we need to go back to the beginning of his and yuki's relationship, to where we left off last.

you had been crying in your bed, after yuki and gojo had finally announced that their relationship was serious, and that they were both hopelessly in love with each other.

you had heard a knock at your door in the midst of your sobbing, and you paused, before you let out a small "go away."

the knocking stopped briefly, before suguru announced himself.

the door opened, and he walked through, sitting on the edge of the bed as he looked at you with what you felt like was extreme pity.

not wanting to see what how he was looking at you, you turned your face into the pillow hiding it from his eye of sight.

"hey, hey. it's okay. it's okay." he told you, patting you on the back.

"this is embarrassing." you cried, trying to laugh behind your tears.

"c'mon, look at me." suguru told you, trying to ease you into sitting up and to look at him.

"i've got snacks." he tells you. that does it for you and you slowly sit up, trying to look at him, hiccuping through the tears that are streaming down your face.

he wordlessly passes the bag full of your favourite snacks to you, and you lean into him, letting him hug you.

"i feel so dumb." you tell him, hiding your face in his shirt.

"it's okay, he's the dumb one for missing out." getou tells you, combing his fingers through your hair. from that moment when getou had chosen to come to you to make sure you were alright, that changed everything.

as months passed, you felt yourself slowly feeling the love you had for satoru to slowly melt away, into a kind of reluctant favouritism of a friend.

because, no matter what, satoru would always just be your friend, and nothing else.

and in that time, you felt yourself falling hard and fast for getou.

it was everything about him.

the way how you were always the first person he'd talk to in a group, and how if you all went out together, he'd always be stuck by your side, to make sure that you were okay.

you thought you would never feel as cared for as you were by getou's side, because he knew you, like he really seemed to know you.

he was always just there for you, and spending so much time with him every day really changes the way you see someone.

and again, you felt like you might just actually have a chance.

you'd never heard him talk of any other girls, and so, at some point, you confessed your feelings for him. he'd been so happy at that moment, he'd picked you up and twirled you around, laughing as he pulled you close and kissed you hard on the mouth.

he'd been waiting forever for you, but he just knew that one day, you'd love him too.

and when you finally debut your relationship in your friend group, shoko's so happy for you she swears she's not crying, but you think you see a tear collect in her eyes. yuki's happy and congratulates you, but gojo, he feels something wrong in his chest.

something is so wrong in his chest. he manages to mutter out a half arsed congratulations and he turns his attention back to his phone.

he can’t just quite figure it out, and when yuki tries to pull him closer to her by the loops on his jeans, he realises he doesn’t really want her to touch him, and he’s never really enjoyed it for some reason in the beginning.

he thinks he’s getting sick. there’s something so wrong with him right now. and he really hasn’t told anyone this, but almost as soon as he got with yuki for real, he lost interest.

that sounded bad, sure, but once he actually got with her, she just seemed, too good. they never fought or anything, and there seemed to be no actual passion in their relationship, because everything was just, okay.

and that’s all it was with yuki, just okay.

from that moment on, gojo started noticing things he never noticed before.

how, for every lesson that the two of you had together, he was excited to go to, because he knew that he’d see you, and he’d be excited to talk to you.

and how if you all hung out, he wanted to talk to you the most, and mostly you.

and how he started to notice all the smallest things about you he forgot he’d ever even noticed in the first place, like how your hair fell over your eyes, the way you’d blink up at him when he said something that you were trying not to laugh at, and how you’d lean against a chair, or just the way you sat.

and maybe then, he started resenting a bit of getou. it took him a while to fully comprehend why. he had finally, finally realised that he was in love with you.

and god, gojo knew it was wrong. getou was his best friend, he should have known better. but secretly, gojo wanted you to break up, and realise how in love you were with him.

and there wasn’t a day that went by that gojo wished he had said something other than “that’s funny” when you told him that you used to like him, but his heart had stopped in his chest, and he really didn’t know what else he could have said at that moment.

and when he finally realised this, gojo broke up with yuki.

yuki, he thought, seemed secretly glad that they had broken up, and so he wasn’t too worried about how she was feeling about it.

and everyone asked why they broke up, and he couldn’t just tell him that he was in love with his best friend’s girlfriend, so he just told them that he didn’t love her anymore, and when you asked, he damn well almost blurted out “i’m in love with you.”

and that shit hurt, because there was nothing he could do about it now, and god he knew he really fucked up.

but getou had the girl now, and he still wasn’t yours.

@disilluzions @jprincesssf @superirisss

[adhdduckie]

second choice - teen!gojo x reader

synopsis : you've loved him since the beginning, so you want to be there for him. in an attempt to speak to gojo after getou has abandoned you all, you tell him that you know you're not the first choice for him to speak to, but he wants you to know you're the first choice for everything else.

pairing; gojo x reader

wc: 2.2k

A/N: this has been in my drafts for like a year, jesus. hope yall enjoy.

main masterlist

jjk masterlist

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

gojo has been different since the death of riko amanai. taking on more and more missions, spending less time with the rest of you. he's no longer the same gojo you fell in love with when you first met him, but you still do love him, he's just going through a rough patch.

ever since he finally understood his technique, the higher ups have been forcing him to go on more trips. you saw him every couple of months, but it wasn't the same as seeing him every single day. the messages you sent him being left on delivered, as if he didn't even want to read the messages you sent him.

when getou and gojo were protecting amanai as their mission, you and shoko had been doing your own thing. When geto came back with the absence of gojo, you freaked out. screamed, cried and basically just swore revenge on toji. you hated toji for taking gojo away from you.

when gojo came back covered in blood, and with a slightly feral look in his eyes, you jumped into his arms, throwing your arms around his neck and sobbing into his shoulder. He kind of just awkwardly patted your back with his hands, and gave you a sly smile, before speaking.

"what you crying for? i'm not dead, am I?" he said, before letting you go. the smile didn't really reach his eyes fully, and maybe that was the first time you noticed something was truly different.

"you fucking idiot." you responded with a laugh, wiping your tears away from your eyes, feeling slightly stupid about how emotional you were.

a year later after amanai's death, after geto left, things were even worse. you remember how gojo started screaming at yagi. you stood behind in the classroom, having just finished talking with the teacher, as you heard gojo's yells.

it had been a shock to you, too, to hear of getou's sins. geto used to be so kind, so nice to you. he helped you with things in class you didn't understand, bought you cold drinks from the vending machines as you sparred with shoko.

you should have seen it coming, you told yourself. how did you not notice his spiralling? How could you not be there for him? alas, it was far too late to even do anything now, especially after gojo confronted him in front of the kfc, strangely you had been sitting in the kfc, eating your lunch.

the lady beside you didn’t understand why you randomly started sobbing in the middle of your food, but you knew you couldn’t intervene, as this is something that was happening between the two of them, because you knew their connection would always be so much stronger than yours.

it was not exactly something you wanted to watch, although you hadn't known everything they were saying, you had a feeling of what was going on, and you didn't want to interrupt.

after the kfc confrontation, gojo was worse. taking on more and more missions, refusing to talk to you when you tried to see how he was doing. it was sad, especially because he had been such a close friend, and now he was just pushing you away.

it hurt much more due to the fact you cared for him beyond a normal friend should, but there really was nothing you could do. you sought him out when you knew he was back from missions, knocking at his door at various times in the night, praying to some god, some entity, really anything that would get him to open the door.

but your knocks always went unanswered. always. you thought maybe you were close enough that he’d trust you enough to talk with you, but apparently not.

the loss of haibara had taken a toll on you, seeing how he was basically a little brother to you, and you felt like maybe you could relate to gojo, and see how the both of you may have something in common to talk about, to make sure that you both had someone to support, and that spiralling didn’t happen again.

shoko was alright, for the most part. you had made sure to support her as much as you could, and she did what she could in return, but she had never been so close with getou and haibara as much as you did, as when she discovered her reverse cursed technique, she spent most of her time in the morgue, and it was the three of you on missions in the end.

and maybe you were starting to spiral yourself. life as a jujutsu sorcerer had really begun to take its toll on you, and you were beginning to understand just how much nanami had hated the life of a jujutsu sorcerer, and how he talked about how he wanted to go off as a salesman, quoting that “jujutsu is shit!”

despite having support around you, you really felt like you were missing something, and the only way you could ever really support yourself was getting some quiet time. the loss of haibara and getou was a strong one, and because other students understood this, they tried to make you feel as best as you could, even if you wanted alone time sometimes, which led to you feeling overwhelmed a lot of the time.

and because shoko would barge into your room whenever she could, you had taken to the rooftops as a way to escape questioning and the constant coddling of everyone else. it was quiet up there, and you liked the escape.

one specific night, you had been sitting up there for multiple hours, just staring off into the distance.

at some point, it had started to rain, but that had only really registered briefly in your head. the rain was light, so it wasn’t much of a problem.

you’d been sitting there for the best of three hours, just watching the clouds pass you by.

at some point you feel a small shift in the atmosphere, and you freeze.

“what are you doing out of your room, satoru?” you ask him, not bothering to turn around.

you hear the clacking of the tiles on the roof as he walks closer towards you.

there’s suddenly a light pressure on your shoulders as a blanket is dropped around your shoulders.

“they thought you left, you know?” satoru responds quietly.

“what?” you ask him, finally turning around to face him as he drops next to you.

“shoko was freaked, because she hasn’t been able to find you for hours.” satoru tells you, shifting closer to you on the edge of the roof.

“…and what got you out of your room?” you ask him, frowning as you stare back out into your surroundings.

“she freaked out, went crazy on me. she was telling me about how unfair I had been, and how selfish i was for forgetting that getou wasn’t just my friend.” he sighs, drawing his legs to his chest, resting his chin on his arms.

“…she’s not wrong.” You respond. you’re feeling a bit numb, and you’re upset that it’s taken him this long to talk to you again, so you’re being mean.

“yeah. I’m sorry, i really am. I got so caught up in myself after riko and getou, and i forgot that you guys were also affected by everything. and you especially, i knew haibara meant a lot to you.” he tries to explain.

“well, satoru, we all needed someone. i did my best with shoko, and nanami. i couldn’t do it all myself, you know? i felt as if i was the only one that was still trying to make sure that everyone was okay, because you disappeared on all of us.”

“and i’m going insane, too. i hate the life of a jujutsu sorcerer, but it’s the one thing i’m good at, and the one thing that i can do. even if shoko is doing her best to support us all as well, it’s not the same, especially because i felt that you and i could relate the most, and be there for each other. and i understand if you needed time to yourself, but you just shut us all out. all of us.” you finish, feeling tears prick at your eyes.

you can’t make any eye contact with satoru. it’s been months since you last properly saw him, and you don’t want to see him when you’re crying like this, so you’re avoiding his eye contact as much as you can.

you take a deep breath, and you continue; “and then, i thought i lost you too. not only did someone i love die, my best friend’s gone, and the other one shut us all out. “

“and then, the one person i feel like i could talk to because we both lost so much, just completely shuts me out.” You’re full on crying now, not even trying to hide it.

satoru wordlessly pulls you closer, understanding that you need to vent out all of your frustrations, because for so long, you’ve been unable to do so.

and it’s so much coming out at once, that you’re just crying at this point.

“i’m sorry, i’m sorry. i should have been there for you.” he whispers, pulling you so you’re crying into his chest.

your fingers are all bunched into his shirt, and you’re crying, so so hard. this is the hardest you’ve cried since everything’s happened, and it just seems that you just couldn’t hold it in anymore.

and you’re sobbing uncontrollably, hiccuping as you cry. he’s rubbing comforting circles into your back, and you notice that his infinity is off for the first time in a long time, so you have to pause and you have to draw back.

when you do, your hands are resting on his shoulders, and you could swear that you don’t look pretty right now, but it’s too late.

his hand goes to cup your jaw, and he tries to smile tentatively at you. his smile is a bit shaky, and his eyes are brimmed red.

“i’m sorry, i’m sorry.” he repeats, using his thumb to brush against your jaw, resting his forehead against yours.

“i know you needed time, and i understand that, but i was really worried. but please, please please, from now on, check in with me every once in a while, okay? I know i’m not your first choice-” you get cut off by satoru, when he interrupts.

“what, what do you mean you’re not my first choice?” he asks, his thumb pausing its motions.

“just that, i know you would have preferred to talk to someone else.” you tell him, a little embarrassed that you have to say it out loud, because no matter how much you thought of him as a close friend, you still wanted him more than that, but it was never the time to tell him.

“you are, though. you know these last few months have been so hard for me?” he asks, “i kept thinking about how much i missed you and how much i wanted you to be there with me, but i couldn’t go find you, i just couldn’t.” he interrupts you, staring at you intently as he tries to explain his feelings.

“why couldn’t you?” you ask him, trying to fight back a shiver when he pulls back, as the loss of warmth registers. you can feel the hesitation in his voice before he speaks, you’re so fine tuned into everything that is gojo satoru.

“because, i thought you blamed me for getou leaving.” he whispers out, so broken hearted.

you scoff, feeling tears run down your cheeks due to such an emotionally charged conversation. ”of course, i don’t. none of us do. getou leaving was a result of the jujutsu world, from everything that has happened to us, from riko amanai’s death, the unjustness of the world, and the non-human sorcerers.” you respond, grasping his hand in your lap, trying to get him to understand just what you mean.

your eyes track the water that falls down his face from the rain, and it just registers to you again that you’re both probably going to get sick.

he leans forward into your touch, resting his forehead against yours again, as he feels everything seem to just dissipate from him, all the pressure he’s been for so long.

and because he’s here with you now, he finally understands.

he understands everything everyone means when they say that once they’re reunited with their loved ones, all their pain and suffering doesn’t just disappear, it just feels lighter, and easier to carry, because they’ve got the support of those around them.

“you are my first choice.” he whispers out as some kind of confession.

and despite yourself, you are able to let out a wet laugh, your eyes closing as you just rest your forehead against his, feeling him squeeze your hand in his. because this feels right. it finally feels right.

the silence passes comfortably, and soon, you realise you’re not even getting wet anymore. you realise he’s sharing his infinity with you, and this helps you finally understand what he means that how you are his first choice. it seems, you are his first choice, for everything.

“i love you.” he whispers, opening his eyes briefly to stare into yours, as he lifts his forehead from yours to press a light kiss to your forehead. you don’t respond, because you know he understands that you do love him too, when you pull him closer to hug him.

because, the pain and suffering is easier to bear, together.