#breakup fic

[queenie-ofthe-void]

A Desperate Fool

written for @steddiemicrofic

Prompt: 'fool' | wc: 454 | rated: T | cw: hurt/no comfort, break-up

~~~

“Stevie, baby, please answer the door,” Eddie begs just as the front door bursts open to reveal Robin Buckely in all her righteous fury.

“You need to leave,” she says, and god, he’s never heard her sound so cold before.

“No Robin, please, you don’t understand. I’ve been a complete f-”

“Fucking asshole?” Robin spits.

“Well,” Eddie sheepishly replies, “I was going to say fool, but, yeah.”

“Fool is a bit of an understatement, don’t you think? It’s been almost a year, and you just show up?" Her hands are white-knuckled and shaking, like she’s physically restraining herself from attacking him. Eddie’s pretty sure he'd deserve it. "How did you even find our new place?”

Up and coming rockstar money certainly has its perks, so he hired a PI.

“I asked Dustin,” he lies.

“No,” Robin cuts him off, “no you didn’t. The kids would never betray his trust.”

Not like you did rings unspoken. 

Months worth of tears finally spill over, a small sob wrenching his body forward. He harshly rubs his face in an attempt to ground himself. Gathering his breath, he looks up again to find Robin glaring, hard and unyielding.

“Robin please,” he sobs, leaning to glance around her, desperate to catch a glimpse of the boy he left behind. “I just want to talk to him. I need to tell him how sorry I am. I regret everything. All of it. I never should’ve said what I said or did what I did.”

“Oh!” she rages. “Do you mean when you celebrated your first big show by ditching Steve and hooking up with some rando in the bathroom?”

She’s yelling now, stepping out onto the front stoop to crowd his space. People are starting to gather on the sidewalk, among them a group of girls with their phones out, recording everything. 

This could ruin him. His reputation, future gigs, possibly the band as a whole. 

He doesn’t care. It’s his reckoning.

“Or, was it after he moved out and you threw a massive drunken doxxing bitchfest on TikTok and said– how did it go again?”

Her voice drops to mock his own ”’a rockstar can’t be seen dating a normie, suburban, ex-high school jock who’s only bullshit dream is to raise kids. That’s just bad for business.’”

“I didn’t mean any of it,” he whispers.

“I don’t care,” Robin says, voice hard and resigned. “You cheated. You embarrassed him publicly. Then you left without a word. Now I need to you to get off my porch and kindly fuck off.” 

Robin steps backwards into the townhome, and just as she’s slamming the door in his face, Eddie swears he sees a flash of chestnut hair and wet hazel eyes.

[0v3rcast]

Departure

You can give no more than you have already. You leave.

(Abandoning a relationship, for your own sake. Angst.)

(Content warnings: I dunno, it's just sad? Mentions of a failing relationship?)

Three bags of your belongings sit at your feet.

In the largest bag are your clothes. Not the clothes they'd given you or any of their clothes that you'd claimed - they are your clothes, both from before the relationship and that you'd purchased for yourself, as well as several sets of traveling clothing that you'd purchased a piece at a time in the past months.

In the second largest bag are your toiletries. Soaps for your skin and hair, a toothbrush and toothpaste, fine-toothed combs, several ornamental hairpins that had belonged to a relative, a small lint roller, and small bottles of both perfumes and colognes.

In the third bag are personal possessions. Mora, photos, a music box you'd been given as a young child, a favorite painting you'd removed from the frame and gently rolled up.

You take nothing of theirs. Nothing they'd given you. Nothing you'd found shared meaning in as a couple.

The weapon you'd learned to master rests against your leg from where you sit at the kitchen table a final time.

On the table lie the supplies you'll require to outline your grievances. Word of mouth does not carry the same hollow permanence as a written message.

It takes you some time to gather all of the scattered emotions in your chest into a tight, controlled ball.

Ink meets paper, pooling for a single solitary moment, and you begin to write.

'To my beloved:

I am sorry, but I can't do this any longer, and I suspect from your lateness and distance in recent months that neither can you.

At the beginning of our relationship, you were the only person I could see - no other living being on Teyvat had the same attractive nature you did. You were everything to me, and in some ways, you still are.

I have tried to sustain this crumbling connection we share, to preserve the magnetism that bound us so tightly. Every morning, if you are even still there when I wake, I do not recognize the person I see.

My concerns for your health seem to go unnoticed. When I make you a meal, you've either already eaten or are too tired to sit with me.

When I plead with you to rest, you refuse to, even though I can see the exhaustion in your eyes.

My presence seems to irritate you. Our conversations tend to either devolve into fights or slowly go quiet.

You feel as cold as your side of the bed we used to share.

When I ask you to join me on my trips to enjoy a night with others or to visit a restaurant, you are unavailable due to work or simply have no interest in the journey.

I know you have not been finishing what I make you. I have found the meals in the trash, often with very little having been eaten.

You have given me gifts in recent weeks. Trophies of your victories, symbols of your status, proof of your work. Once upon a time, I would have lovingly collected them and placed them in our home in such a way that all who visited would see them, would know my pride and love for you.

They are no replacement for your presence in my life. You cannot expect them to be an acceptable substitute for all the little moments we no longer spend together.

But I suppose I should thank you, as well. The argument we had last week has given me much to think on, including myself.

Your behavior leads me to a single conclusion: the fault lies with me.

Was I not enough?

Did my actions push you away?

Was it something I said?

...is there another, one who can take care of you the way I cannot?

Am I so thoroughly unsatisfying?

The answer doesn't particularly matter anymore.

I wish to ask for one final favor. You may reject it, but for both our sakes I hope you will humor it.

Find another. Move on. Heal from this. Live a life you will not regret. I will do the same.

Perhaps in another life, this would never have come to pass. But here it has.

I doubt we will meet again.

Thank you for everything. Thank you for pretending. Thank you for being here long enough to make me feel special.

Beneath this note you will find two stacks of documents. The first are a collection of every expenditure I have incurred during our relationship, in the form of invoices, receipts, and bills, itemized from most to least expensive.

The second stack are records of withdrawals from my private funds for the purpose of repayment, with signed affidavits from bank managers to confirm that I have done this of my own free will and through legally-accepted channels.

I cannot give you back your time. All I can do is return the money.

When you read this, I will be gone. The world is too vast to stay and fester miserably in the absence of you.

This is goodbye, both as a person and as your partner. I do not do this to hurt you, but to spare us both more misery.

I want you to be happier.

I love you.'

You gently lay the letter down, pack away your writing tools, and tuck them into the third bag.

The front door shuts behind you with a sense of finality, and your shadow slowly follows you in the afternoon light.

You leave the place you once thought of as a home with no outward expression of the grief and sorrow oozing inside of you like wicked poison.

Those who question your sudden departure are simply told you are going to visit family, but otherwise you say as little as possible.

When they come home, the stars now twinkling in the night sky, they find the note.

As you said, you are gone. You crept over the horizon with the sunset hours ago.

And the weight of your absence slowly begins to settle on their chest.

[tidbit-fanfic]

A/N: Finally finished this based off of a dream I had once upon a time. As always I do not own any named characters in this, except for the “reader”. Set in season 11, although Reader and Dean’s relationship has been well established before that. 

TW: no HEA, cannon level violence, swearing/language, kinda OOC!Dean, unhealthy coping mechanisms, implied smut (not explicit), blood (mentioned), spoilers for season 11, one use of y/n

I met the Winchesters after my college roommate passed away under unnatural circumstances. To make a long story short, a demon had decided that a college campus was the best place to set up shop, and nearly half of my dorm was harmed in the process. I did my best to help, despite having very little knowledge of such creatures, but I was willing to help. From that point on, I became a powerful ally to the brothers, and a formidable foe to the supernatural.

After Bobby’s death I stepped up full-time, becoming their go-to researcher for anything they were facing. Life was going fine, helping with research the best I could, working in the background against the Leviathan. 

Time blurred together, from helping the boys with the trials,fighting Metatron alongside Castiel, and along the way, something bloomed in between me and the eldest Winchester. What started as friendly teasing and taunting, morphed into actual flirting and soon enough, physical touch was involved. We were great, always backing the other when needed, even when the Mark of Cain became a third wheel in our relationship. Throughout it all, I stood beside him, forever and always. 

I waited for the boys at the hospital, standing on the steps as they helped Jenna out of the Impala. After helping them get her into a wheelchair, I checked them over, finding that there was no visible damage done to the brothers; the sheriff, however, was holding onto her side, her shirt covered in fresh blood. She tensed upon seeing me, her free hand inching toward her gun. I held my hands up in a defensive manner, intending to show no harm.“Normally, I’m the one grabbing the gun when approached.”

“Show us your neck.”

I furrow my brows, looking from her to the boys. Dean nods, and I reach down, pulling the collar of the turtle neck down. “Satisfied? Or do I need to conjure up a hickey or two?”

  Jenna relaxed, trying to look past me into the hospital. Dean grabbed my arm, dragging me just out of earshot of the other two. “I thought I told you not to worry about it.”

“Right, right, because that’s what you would do.”

“No, it’s just,” he ran his hand through his hair, huffing out air. “You know how I feel about you searching for trouble.” 

I snorted. “Honey, you’re all the trouble I need. But, I get it. My big, scary boyfriend is worried about me. Even though he knows how I can handle myself perfectly fine.” 

Dean opened his mouth, just as Sam interrupted. “What’s the state of the hospital? Where is everyone?”

“Dead. No pulse whatsoever.” Sam’s eyes took on a saddened glaze. I cocked my head towards the door, searching for an exit from the conversation. “Let’s get Sheriff Callie fixed-up then, shall we?”

All of us cautiously made our way into the hospital, wary of the chance of a rabid attacking at any point. The halls seemed way too quiet, the sounds of our beating hearts the only noise our ears intercepted. When we reached the exam room, Sam dismissed himself, searching for antibiotics for Jenna. Meanwhile, I stood to the side as Dean stitched the sheriff’s wound closed, watching the meticulous way he tended to her. Dean finished with his work, helping her down from the table, turning to me after. I crossed my arms, watching as he unrolled his sleeves. I looked to the sheriff, nodding to the room behind me. “There’s a comfortable chair in there, you should probably take a little break.”

“I’m fine.”

“You lost a lot of blood, I’m guessing?” I raised a brow as she looked away. “There’s some juice in the mini fridge and a couple granola bars in the lower drawer. Eat up, we don't need you passing out on us.”

She sighed, following my instructions and shuffled into the office. I shut the door behind her, regaining my composure before turning back to Dean. He busied himself with cleaning the area, avoiding eye contact with me.

“Are we going to talk about it?”

“About what?”

“You know what.” I huffed, hoisting myself up onto the table next to him. “About you running away, and then suddenly there’s a code red in the area you distinctly were in? Oh, and how about the fact that you told your brother to take care of me? The girl you are in a relationship with?”

“Are we going to address you going against my specific orders to stay put?”

“God damnit, I was worried about you! You went to get yourself killed and didn’t even think to tell me goodbye in person!” I slammed my hand down onto the table, leaning into his face. “I swear sometimes I don’t recognize you anymore. Mark or not.”

He glared at me, irritated with the invasion of his personal space. “Maybe that’s because I’m not who I was.”

“Yeah, go figure.”

“No, you don’t get it. The Mark—”

“Fuck the Mark. You’re Dean Winchester. The Dean Winchester. Even Hell trembles in the mention of your name. A stupid ass curse is the last thing I would expect to break you down.”

His jaw ticks as he looks to the ceiling, probably sending off a prayer to Cas for some sort of strength, to deal with me. “I am not the person I was before.”

“No, you're not. And you know what? That’s fine. We’ve been through worse than a fucking personality change. Shit, I ran from a demon you with a goddamn hammer in your hand. I’m sure if that didn’t turn me off from you, then nothing can.” I pushed the bag to the side, sliding over so I was in front of him. I reached my hand out, cupping his face as I looked deep into those emerald green eyes. “I’m in this till the end, you hear me? Forever and always.”

“Forever and always.” He sighs, pushing his face into my palm, before pulling me into an embrace. I wrap my arms around him, breathing in the scent that is so distinctly Dean, when Sam enters with a man holding a child. I pull away, eying the new editions to the room. 

“Sorry for interrupting, but we have company. I found them hiding from one of the infected.” Sam rushes out, nodding to the father. 

Jenna opens the door, joining us again, looking much better with the nutrients in her system. A look of recognition crossing her features. “Mike? Where’s…”

“She’s gone.” The father, Mike, looked down to the child, an expression of grief taking over his features. I slide off the table, pushing Dean back, crossing to him. The sheriff joins us, murmuring her condolences to Mike, who rocks his baby slightly. I step back, allowing the friends space as I check in with the brothers. Sam nods towards the father, the black veins creeping from the man's neck. Dean clears his throat, returning our attention. “We need to kill him.” 

“No, we don’t.” Sam states, exasperated with his blood.

“What are our other options then, because I don’t see many.” 

“There has to be some other way,” I reason, “he has a newborn, we shouldn’t even consider that.”

Sam backs me. “That’s true. This infection seems to have a time frame, the rabid in the hall, just died after some time. Maybe we have to wait it out.”

“Wait it out so he can attack us like the rest of us? No Sam, I can't let that happen.” 

I turn back to our company, not wanting to continue with this argument.  

Noticing the child fussing, I walk over, directly to the father. “May I?”

He nods, handing me the baby and I look down at her, cooing and rocking her in an attempt to calm her. Mike watches closely, ensuring his child's safety, and an ache rises in my chest at the action. Sam joins us, ignoring the child held in my arms. “We have a plan.”

“You have a plan, my plan was to kill him.”

“Dean.” I shoot him a glare, reminding him he is in the presence of the very person he wants to kill. He throws his hands up as Mike chimes in. 

“No, he’s right, it’s only a matter of time before I attack you all. I’ll leave, distance myself from you and wait out the time period.”

“What? No. What is she going to do without you, her father?” I hold her tighter to my chest, the ache returning. 

“Jenna? Will you take care of her for me? I’ll go wait out the infection and…” He rubs the baby's head, turning to the sheriff. Jenna nods, and holds her arms out for the child. I transfer the child to her arms, going to tuck myself into Dean’s side, his arm looping around my waist. 

“What’s the plan?”

We were stopped at a gas station, Dean calling Sam while Jenna took Amara in to change her. I sat in the backseat, the door open as Dean stood nearby, Sam on speaker. “Everything is going fine here. Really.” 

“Are you sure, because we can come back in a heartbeat.”

“No, you guys make sure Jenna and the baby make it to her grandmother’s, don’t worry about me, I can handle myself.” 

Dean hands me the phone as he heads inside, leaving me with Sam. “You’re one hundred percent sure that you don’t need us?’

A sigh echoes from the other end. “Honestly, no. I caught it, the infection.”

“Sam.” My throat swells. “We’re coming back, right after—”

“No! Just, don’t tell Dean.”

“Fine. I’m not going to lie to him though. And Sam?”

“Yeah?”

“You better use that big brain of yours to find a cure, I’m not looking forward to Dean trying to sell his soul again.”

“Promise me you’ll stop him from doing anything stupid. No matter the outcome.” 

“You know I can’t promise that.”

“Promise.”

I sigh, closing my eyes as the worry begins to creep in. “I promise.”

“Good. Now get Jenna to her grandmother’s, and I’ll see you both later.”

“Right. Bye Sammy.” 

He hangs up just as Dean returns, leaning against Baby. “Did he say anything to you?” 

I shook my head, picking at my nails. “Nothing he didn’t tell you.”

He scrubs his hand in his hair, looking up to the sky. “I hate leaving him behind in a hotspot.”

“I know you do, but this was his idea, he wouldn’t have said anything if he wasn’t confident in his abilities.” 

“You’re right, but I still can’t not worry about him.”

I stood up in front of him, tucking my hands into the pockets of his jacket. “I didn’t want to leave him either, but we have to respect his decisions. Right?”

He lets out a sigh, his hands slipping into the back pockets of my jeans as our foreheads meet. “You’re right. I still hate it though.”

“That’s fair. For now, we need to get those two to somewhere safe, then we can speed back to him, okay?”

He lets out a sound of affirmation before pulling away from me, just as Jenna returns. We all climb back into Baby, heading off to the safe house. 

“Do you think they’ll be fine?” 

Dean’s eyes flicker over to me, returning to the road before answering. “I think so. Might be hard to explain a few years down the road, but that’s not our problem.” 

I nod, watching the fields pass the window as we make out way back to the hospital. Suddenly, Dean’s cell rings, flashing Jenna’s name across the caller ID. He answers it as usual, muttering some responses before whipping the Impala around. “Change of plans sweetheart, we’ve got some other things to attend to.”

We get out at Jenna’s grandmother’s, meeting her at the end of the driveway. “I’m sorry for calling, it’s just, this is crazy. Also, I apologize ahead of time, my grandmother’s a big religious person.”

We enter the house, coming face first with the king of hell dressed as a priest. “Crowley?”

“Hello dears. About time you joined us.”

“So what the hell is happening here, Father?”

“Well, the same thing you were called for apparently, I have some connections, so when an exorcism is called in, I get called in.” Crowley shrugs, as if this isn’t the biggest news.

“Still doesn’t explain why you’re here.”

“I was called in about some sort of demon possession. But, whatever thing is in there, it isn’t mine…it’s darker, more powerful.”

“What do you think it is?”

“If I knew, I would have told you wouldn’t I?” He scoffs, watching as I turn back to the house, going to approach it, before a scream rips through the air. I whip my head to the two of them, eyes widening before we all rush inside, guns drawn. 

Inside, we find the grandmother lying in a pool of her own blood, Jenna nowhere to be found. I shoot a glare at Crowley, who stands to the side, thoroughly unimpressed. The two go upstairs,checking the rest of the house while leaving me with the corpse. “Sorry grandma, but we have to figure this out.”

I check the first floor, finding a sheet, which I lay over her body, out of pure respect. A smash sounds from the second floor, and soon enough Dean comes rushing down the stairs. “They're gone.” 

A few weeks later, I stand at the end of a table, looking in disbelief at the brothers. “Cas is Lucifer, Sam died again, but not really, so you overdosed in hopes of saving him?” 

Sam flinches, avoiding looking at me, while Dean shrugs. “I did what I needed to.”

“By killing yourself?! What if it didn’t work?! What if you actually died? Did you forget you have a vengeful reaper dying to sink her teeth into you?!” 

Dean shrugs, continuing to sip at his beer. 

“And he shrugs. What the fuck has gotten into you? Ever since the church case you've been acting like a total ass.”

Sam looks at his brother, then to me, before excusing himself from the room. I sit in the spot he left, directly across from Dean. “What’s wrong? You’ve been distant since this whole Amara thing began. Is it something with her? Cas?”

He scoffs, peeling at the label on the bottle in front of him, avoiding eye contact. I grab the bottle, reaching for his hand. He pulls it away, glaring at me. “Maybe it’s you.”

“I’m sorry?”

“Maybe it’s you. Maybe you're the issue.”

“Me? How the hell am I the issue? I haven't seen you since dropping off Amara and Jenna. You’re acting like a total ass to me, and yet I’m the problem?”

He stands up, his palms pressing flat to the table, turning to leave for his room.

“Fine, how do I fix this?”

“You don’t.”

“Huh?”

“You don’t fix it.”

“Whatever it is we can fix—”

“We cannot fix anything. There’s nothing to fix between us, not anymore.” He pushes off the table, running a hand through his hair.

My voice begins to tremble, a lump forming in my throat. “What? What do you mean there’s nothing? We’re—”

“There is no we anymore!” He whirls around towards me, a look of pure annoyance painted over his features.

“I’m sorry, but it sounds like you’re trying to break up with me? Which can’t be true.” I stand up, the chair screeching against the floor in my urgency. “Unless it is.”

“It is.”

“No, it’s not.”

“I kissed her. And I liked it. She’s been on my mind anytime I’m with you. Shit, I had to force Sam to promise he wouldn’t tell you. But us? This is done.”

“Wait, who are we talking about? There’s another girl?!” I shouted, tears forming in my eyes.

“Amara.”

“The baby?! The fucking one-month old?! You’re leaving me for her?!”

“Yes!”

“This is why you've been distant. God I’m so stupid. Forever and always my ass.” I wrap my arms around myself. “You know what, fuck this.”

Dean stood there, his back turned to me. I reached up, snapping the chain that once laid delicately around my neck. The silver pendant dangled gently from the ruined piece. I threw it on the table. “Fuck you. And fuck your girl toy. Don’t you dare come asking for my forgiveness when she destroys everything you love. If you are even capable of that.” 

I pivoted, heading to my room, locking the door behind me, not bothering to glance at him again. I rip the photos of us off the wall, tossing them in the trash bin. I hesitate with the first one, the one Sam took of us leaning into one another, passed out in the front seat of Baby. The day we first said the words. A single tear landed on it as I pulled my lighter out of my pocket, lighting the corner on fire before dropping it into the bin with the rest.

I hauled my bag over my shoulder, walking into the garage where my 1977 Chevy Camaro sat, unused since I began running with the brothers. Specifically since Dean. I threw my bag in the backseat, starting the engine and leaving behind what once was my home. Where my heart could no longer stay.  

Sam’s call lit up the darkened hotel room for the fifth time tonight. Not to mention Cas’s numerous calls and voicemails sitting in the inbox waiting to be opened. Yet not a single one from him. I turned my phone over, standing on shaky legs as I made my way to the en suite. I flicked on the fluorescent light, coming face to face with a ghastly image. My eyes were rimmed in red, the deep purple bags making the red so much brighter. Tear stains lined my cheeks, my hair thrown up in a knot, curled in on itself in a mirror image of my stomach. And the irises that one shone bright with life, were fogged over, dull. Dean’s ring sat on the ledge of the sink, mocking me. The ring he gave me that first hunt they went on without me. The promise echoing in my ears. 

“Wear this. It’s my guarantee to return to you, always.”

“For forever.”

“For forever and always.” His lips brushed my forehead, settling the ring on my forefinger, it wouldn't fit on the rest. “Forever and always, princess.”

He returned from that hunt with a nasty cut on his cheek, and a funny limp in his right leg, but he returned. And he always did from that point on, forever. 

“Fuck forever and always.”

I wake up with hair in my mouth, a raging headache thriving between my ears. I groan, moving to sit up, but held back by a heavily muscled arm around my waist. I look over my shoulder, coming face to face with a dark haired man. His deep breaths indicate he’s still sleeping, and the sticky feeling between my thighs reveals exactly what happened after the alcohol hit my system. My phone buzzes on the nightstand beside me, an unknown number calling me. I pick it up, grumbling choice words as I answer.“Who the hell is this?”

“Hello darling. Didya have a nice night?”

“Crowley,” I throw the stranger’s arm off me, getting out of bed and search for my clothes. “to what do I owe the honor?”

“Your man and his sibling have called me in, we have a lead on how to get rid of Amara.” 

“No.”

“I know you and him had a fallout, darling, we can’t do this on our own. So I suggest you get your freshly screwed buttocks to the bunker, asap.” The dead tone rang through my ear, and then through the air as my phone crashed into the wall. I yanked on my converse, mumbling towards my companion. 

“Goddamn Winchesters and their goddamn saving the earth. Look, I have to leave, just return the key to the desk when you leave, and thanks for last night…” I shrugged on my jacket, grabbing my keys and reaching for the door knob. The mystery man goes to speak, having been woken up by our conversation, but I ignore him, closing the door behind me. 

Crowley meets me the second I pull up to the building, a knowing smile displayed on his face. “So, where’s the lucky man now?”

I flip him off, walking inside. I’m greeted by Sam pulling me into a hug, a muddled kiss place in my hair. He pulled away, checking me for any signs of distress. “Are you okay?” 

I nod, glancing around the room, finding Cas, well, Lucifer, Rowena, an individual I didn’t recognize, plus Metatron. I scan the room, looking for the person I least want to see. The door opened behind me, and in walks Dean Winchester, looking like hell warmed over. My breath caught and I swayed into Sam, going lightheaded. He wrapped his arm around me protectively as Dean approached us. “Y/n. Look I’m—”

“Don’t.” Sam growls towards his brother. “They’re here to help us, not for an apology from you.”

“I’m just trying—”

“No, Dean. You don’t get to try anything. They will decide when you get to talk to them. Got it?” 

The unknown individual cleared his throat, directing our attention to the plan. I felt Dean’s eyes burning into my side, and then they snapped to Sam, when the announcement of who Mark would go to. I turned to look up at him, fear clinging to my ribs.“Sam? You can’t.”

“We didn’t talk about this. You can’t, it’s mine to bear.”

“I didn’t tell you because I knew you would freak out like this.”

I grabbed Sam’s bicep, dragging his attention to me. “Do you know what you are agreeing to?” 

He nods, dragging me closer to him. “I have to do it, you know I do.”

I let him go, looking at Dean, our eyes locking. I can see the pain he’s trying to hide, the anger, the worry, all for his brother. I return my gaze to the big man, resisting the urge to comfort him. “Well then, let’s get this show on the road, shall we.” 

The door opens, a beaten woman dragging herself in. Her dark eyes flicker around the room, landing on me, front and center. My breath catches in my throat, her beauty striking me. I swallow visibly, my eyes dragging down her body, before returning to hers. She straightens up, a smirk crossing her face. “Who are you?”

“I’m, I’m no one important.” 

Lucifer impales her from behind, as Chuck steps around me, looking down at his sister. They exchange words, before Amara stands up, throwing the rest of us every which way. My head slams against concrete, the world dissolving behind my eyelids. 

When my eyelids flutter open, I’m in a smokey void, with only Amara in front of me. I step forward, reaching for my knife hidden away in my jacket, only to find it missing. She lets out a laugh. “So you were the one who once owned the heart of my Winchester?”

“Your Winchester?” I let out a laugh. 

She tilts her head, smiling at me. “Right, you both are dating, aren’t you? I might just have to steal him from you. Oh wait, I already have.” She leans in closer, running her nose up my neck, stopping when her breath tickles my ear. “Or I could make you watch as I bind our souls together for eternity. What was the phrase you used? Forever and always.”

“You—”

“Careful what you say to me. I could end your life with the snap of my fingers.” Her smile drops, her hand wrapping around my neck. I grit my teeth together, hissing out my next words. “Do it then, you bitch.”

My body gets thrown backwards, hitting an invisible wall. She tsks at me, her face holding no emotion. “No, no. I’d rather keep you alive. Force you to watch Dean leave you over and over again until the universe ends. Keep you in a little glass cage, as a pet.” 

“You’re sick.” Amara throws her head back, letting out a laugh. 

“Perhaps I am, but are you much better?” 

I glare at her, silently cussing out Chuck for letting this happen. She takes my head into her hands, her eyes locked on my lips. “Nothing? I thought so.” She twists my head violently to the side, and the void disappears. 

My eyes snap open, lungs panting for air as green floods my vision. I sit up, pushing Dean back from me, as Cas stands up. Sam is crouching next to Chuck, helping him sit up, his complexion pale. Cas speaks up, his monotonous voice returned. “You were out for a while. I couldn’t find your soul.”

“Thank you Cas. It’s great to have you back.”

Dean opens his mouth, going to say something when Rowena bursts through the doors.

“You all need to come see this. We have a wee bit of a problem.”

A month had passed since then, and I was thrown into saving the world yet again. Collecting souls to build a spirit bomb, Dean gave up on attempting to talk to me, his brother my guard dog. Saying goodbye to the only man I’ve loved, just for him to remain alive, returning with his mother. Saving Sam from the crazy Brits, and so much more. I moved back into the bunker, much to Mary’s insistence: “The boys need you, as much as they don’t want to admit it.” 

I hid in my room, only coming out for the necessities, to share research I found, basically avoiding Dean. Unfortunately, he eventually caught up during one of my necessity runs. I felt confined as he barred my escape route. 

“We need to talk.”

“We are, aren't we?” I shook his hand off my arm, eyes darting to the exit he left unguarded. 

“No, we aren’t, and it’s killing me.” 

I snorted, “Well, apparently I’m the problem, so distancing myself seems to be the only way to remedy that.”

Dean flinched back, tucking his hands into his pocket as he looked to the floor. “About that, I—”

“No.”

“No?” “No, you don't get to apologize. I’m done Dean. Something in me shattered that day, the day I realized I’m not what you wanted. That I was just convenient for you. And now that there's not another woman pining after you, you want me back. It doesn’t work like that. My answer is no, you do not get a second chance, divine interference or not.” I turned on my heel, rushing back to my room, leaving him

standing there with tears in his eyes matching mine. But, if there's one thing I know about Dean Winchester, it’s that he’ll get over it. 

[tillystealeaves]

Steddie Fic- Part 1: Breakup

I don't know what to title this thing, but it's a 3 part story and this is Part 1. Hope you enjoy!!!!

Steve stood in the living room, not knowing what to do with himself. Eddie would be here soon. Eddie was working that day, at the music store in the town next to Hawkins (where people didn’t care so much about the Hawkins rumor mill), and his shift ended at 4, which meant Eddie would be getting to Steve’s house by around 4:30 because Steve had invited him over, and it was 4:15 now, so Eddie should be here any minute, and if it was a normal night Steve would probably be pulling something out of the oven but tonight-

Steve stopped himself. He took a breath. He couldn’t allow his mind to go on tangents like that or he was going to word-vomit all over Eddie.

Eddie, who would be arriving any minute.

Steve had thought for a long time about whether he wanted to have this conversation in his house. If he wanted the memories of this to be burned into his mind every time that he walked through his living room. But his house was already full of so many ghosts. Barb sat perpetually at the edge of his pool, his mother cried over a glass of wine at the kitchen counter, and his father was… everywhere. Always telling Steve how everything he did was somehow a stain on the Harrington name.

Besides, the alternative was to do this at Eddie’s house and that… he couldn’t do that. Eddie had been living for less than a year in the new double-wide trailer supplied by the government. His old home, even if it hadn’t been ripped to shreds, would have been forever filled with the ghost of Chrissy. Steve couldn’t make bad memories for Eddie in his new one. (Though he was fairly sure that Eddie wouldn’t be particularly haunted by this conversation anyway.)

And then there was the fact that over the past eight months since the Spring Break from Hell, Eddie’s new trailer had come to mean something to Steve. It felt like… home. Like the way a home should feel, in the way his own never had. It felt lived in, even though it was new. With Wayne’s mug collection and replacement posters tacked up on Eddie’s wall. With music playing or the TV on mute in the living room, coffee brewing in the kitchen because between Eddie’s and Wayne’s work schedule, it was always breakfast time for someone. Steve had felt welcomed there. Safe. Like he belonged. He refused to poison those memories for himself with what was about to happen.

“Stevie?”

Eddie’s voice pulled Steve from his thoughts. He wondered if Eddie had just let himself in or if he’d been knocking for minutes with no answer. Well, Steve figured he could always blame his damaged hearing if Eddie complained about waiting too long.

“Hey Eds.”

Eddie was smiling, warm and easy. Steve tried to freeze the moment in his mind. Sometimes memories were getting lost inside his head- the doctors said it would continue to happen, a side effect of too many head injuries. But Steve swore to himself that he would never let his brain lose this image of Eddie so happy just from arriving at Steve’s house.

Almost as soon as Steve had made a note to remember Eddie’s smile, it vanished. Suddenly, Eddie looked concerned. He approached Steve and put his hands on his shoulders. His long fingered hands, warm, with calluses that that had ghosted over Steve’s arms, his back, his hair- Steve bit the inside of his cheek and pulled himself back into the moment. “What’s up, Steve? You look… less like a ray of sunshine than usual. Something wrong? Is it a migraine?”

Steve stepped back, outside of Eddie’s grip. “No, my head’s fine. I just… can we talk for a minute?”

Eddie sank down on the couch and immediately began fiddling with his rings, his head angled so that his hair was falling in front of his face. “Yeah, of course we can. Um… did I do something wrong?”

His voice sounded so small. Gods, Steve didn’t know if he would be able to do this if Eddie was going to be sad. The whole point was to make Eddie happy- not tonight, of course. Steve knew tonight would sting. But it wouldn’t hurt Eddie. And in the long run, Eddie would be happy. He would be-

“Stevie? You’re sort of scaring me, baby. Did something bad happen? Like, Upside Down bad?”

“No,” Steve answered quickly. He rushed to the couch and sat down, putting his hand reassuringly on Eddie’s knee. (He ignored the voice in his head whispering that this might be the last moment that they touched.) “No, it’s nothing like that. I just-” He had to just do it. He had to put words to what he wanted least in the world, but what he knew was the right thing. “I think we need to stop this thing between us.”

Steve dared to glance up at Eddie, but found that he couldn’t see anything of his expression. His right hand pulled his hair across his face and into his mouth while his left hand fiddled frantically with the rips on his jeans. “Okay.” Eddie’s voice was thick. Was he going to cry? Steve didn’t think this would make him cry. “If that’s what you want, of course, ba- Steve. But is there anything I can do to fix it? I mean, could you maybe tell me what’s not working for you and I can do it better?”

“You didn’t do anything, Eds,” Steve assured him. Eddie had to know that this was absolutely not his fault. It was Steve’s fault, 100%. “It’s just… when two people want different things out of a relationship, someone’s going to end up unhappy. And I don’t want to ever make you unhappy.”

“I’m not unhappy!” Eddie protested. He looked up and even through his hair, Steve could see his eyes were red and wet. Steve looked down at the floor. “Are you unhappy? What am I doing to make you unhappy?”

Steve swallowed past the burning lump in his throat. He really hadn’t expected Eddie to put up a fight. He had expected him to agree, maybe give him a parting hug or maybe say that he was relieved that Steve hadn’t made Eddie have to do this himself. He had hoped that Eddie would say they could still be friends, or at minimum be cool with each other for the sake of the kids. But if this is what Eddie needed from him, he could spell it out.

“You’re not doing anything to make me unhappy. Look, I talked to Robin about this a lot, trying to figure out the best way to handle it. She said I couldn’t keep avoiding it by just wishing that we could stay this way forever. Sometimes, one person in a relationship just expects more out of it than what it is. And if they don’t talk about it, that person is going to get their heart broken. And the other person is going to get sick of them. I don’t want that for us. I don’t want resentment or hurt feelings or- I just think we should stop this where it is. It’s been so great, Eddie.” Steve heard his voice break at that; he hoped Eddie hadn’t noticed. “It’s been really good, but I think we should stop it here before it turns into something bad.”

With his eyes still pointed resolutely at the carpet, Steve could only feel Eddie nod. He heard Eddie take a deep, shaky breath and then felt the couch lift as Eddie stood. “Okay, yeah. Message received. I’ll get out of your hair. Um… bye, Steve.”

Steve didn’t answer. Couldn’t answer. Even with his terrible hearing, every step Eddie took towards the door reverberated through his head and his chest and his heart. He stayed motionless, barely breathing, as the front door squeaked open and clicked shut. It was only when the sound of Eddie’s rickety van faded that he fell forward onto the couch- still warm from Eddie’s body- and allowed himself to sob.

[avatar-anna]

“I just want to catch up. As friends.”

Hi I wanted to know if I could request something where harry is the one who fucks the relationship up (but no cheating bc we would never go back) and the reader is living their best life and has maybe even slept with a person or two and harry is miserable but they do end up together again and have a happy ending and she forgives him bc she loves him and she's like " I want you. I don't need you. Remember that" anyway sorry if it's not good or whatever. You don't have to do it remember that. Anywho live for your work !! <3

sure!!

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

“Just come tonight.”

“I just want to catch up as friends.”

“We can do that, can’t we?”

Those were the things Harry said to you over the phone when he called you out of the blue.

You’d been broken up for about three months. For good this time. Your relationship with Harry was...rocky. On and off. Toxic? No, not toxic, but breaking up with him for the last time was freeing.

After being completely heart broken for almost two months, but you were past that now.

So much so that when Harry called you earlier today, you agreed to his request to come to one of his shows. It had been enough time, and there was a time where you and Harry were close, and you wanted to explore that again. As friends, of course.

So you were at Madison Square Garden, his first ever show there as a solo artist.

Harry promised to take care of tickets, but you ended up buying your own and giving the free ones to your friend and her girlfriend. When you and Harry broke up for good, you were known to the world as “the woman who broke Harry Styles’ heart.” You didn’t need the attention from fans while you and Harry were having this weird, new experience.

The back of the venue wasn’t so bad. Young girls were dressed to the nines and singing their hearts out while you swayed in time with the music. He was so talented, was so meant to be a star. You used to tell him that you couldn’t imagine him doing anything else, which was part of the problem in your relationship.

You never wanted Harry to change, or give up his life for you, you would never ask him to do that. But you wished that just once in a while he would choose you over the music. Not all the time, just a few. The last straw was when he said yes to performing at the Victoria’s Secret Fashion Show, after you’d asked him not to. It wasn’t because you were insecure around models or anything like that, but that he would be around one or two of his exes, some of which you had a feeling would try to take this opportunity to throw themselves at him.

He said he wouldn’t, but caved when his managers urged him to do it. Betrayed wasn’t the right word for how you felt, but something close to that was fitting. It felt like he only cared about his career, that he’d grown comfortable with you not putting up a fight when he had to be somewhere or do something or jet off to another continent at the drop of a hat.

You couldn’t do it anymore. So when Harry returned from the fashion show, he came back to an empty house and a note that explained why you left. You hadn’t really spoken to him since.

Until his phone call. It surprised you, but what surprised you more was how much you wanted to see him. So, going with your gut, you said yes, but on your terms.

Harry was a force on stage, high energy and passion in every note he sang and with every strum of his guitar. He still used the one you gifted to him after he finished his album, and the sight of it tugged at your heartstrings in a way that you didn’t expect.

Getting over Harry was hard, but you did it. He’d been a part of your life for a long time, and letting that companionship go, letting go of the one person who knew every little thing about you, wasn’t an easy feat.

But you did it. You started going out again, seeing friends at bars and brunch tables. You changed your hair, but only slightly, thinking that maybe you just needed to change the person you were with Harry on the outside to solidify that fact on the inside. You worked long hours and volunteered at an animal shelter by your apartment. You were healing, finding out who you were without Harry.

You even made an online dating profile, though you didn’t use it very much. A coffee date here, dinner and a movie there, but none of them stuck. Not that you really wanted them to, you just wanted to see if you could do it. See if you could be a girlfriend to anyone but Harry.

As the night progressed, Harry performed a number of songs. You knew all of them, but it was like hearing them all for the first time now that you weren’t together.

And then he started playing the familiar chords of a song. One that wasn’t on his new album.

“If I could fly, I’d be coming right back home to you.”

It was your favorite One Direction song, and Harry knew that. He used to hum it under his breath whenever you were laying together, or say, “Missing half of me more than usual today, baby,” over the phone while he was away. In a lot of ways, it was yours and Harry’s song, even if he was the one singing it.

You still there in shock, eyes wide as phone flashlights winked on and lit up Madison Square Garden like it was the night sky. You expected him to search for you in the crowd, but he didn’t, just kept his head down and his eyes closed for most of the song. He opened them briefly during the bridge while the whole crowd sang to him, and you swore you saw tears in his eyes, but it was hard to tell because of how far you were from him.

Your suspicions were confirmed when he wiped his eye at the end of the song, but you couldn’t tell if it was because of the touching moment with his fans or if it was you.

The rest of the concert went by in a daze. Harry continued to perform like nothing was the matter, but all you could do was replay that performance over and over and over again.

Your emotions were all over the place, buzzing around inside your body and making you weak in the knees. Doing your best to stay upright, you watched the rest of the concert in a daze.

When it was over, you thought about what to do next. To call him, to text him, to try to go backstage and see him. You had to do something, you just didn’t know what.

But Harry decided for you, his name appearing on your phone screen with an incoming call.

“Ha—”

“You said you would come.”

“I know, I just—”

“No, Y/n, why would you make a promise like that and then just hang me out to dry?” he said with a sniffle. Was he crying? “I—I know we’re not together anymore, but the decent thing to do is tell me if you changed your mind about coming.”

“Harry, I—I came. I’m still here,” you said, feeling breathless for some reason.

“You what? But you weren’t—”

“I gave the tickets to a friend and bought my own,” you explained. “I thought it would be easier to watch from a little further away.”

“You’re here?” Harry sounded hopeful, and you could practically see his eyes lighting up.

“Yeah, I was just deciding what I should do—”

“Come here. Backstage,” he blurted. Pahsing for a moment, as if to contain himself, he said, “I—It would just be nice to catch up, you know? I’ve missed you a lot.”

The words, I missed you too were on the tip of your tongue, but you didn’t let them fly.

You and Harry were walking a fine line. Emotions were running high after the concert, and while he was inviting you backstage with the simple request to “catch up,” you knew that could lead to more. The question was, did you want it to?

Your life had been in shambles after leaving Harry, but you’d since picked up the pieces. You learned how to live a life that didn’t have him in it, and it was a good life, one you enjoyed quite a bit.

“Y/n? Did you hear me? I was wondering if you—”

But Harry was...Well, he was Harry. So charming and so kind and so endearing. If he said the right things, you would cave, and that was what worried you.

“I’m scared,” you said, cutting him off.

“Scared?”

“I’ve, um, I’ve learned how to live without you, and I’m scared that’ll all come crashing down if I see you.”

The only sounds over the phone for a few seconds were heavy breaths and the occasional sniffles, from you and Harry.

Then, in a voice so small, you were surprised it could even be Harry’s, “I haven’t.”

That made your stomach drop. You figured he would’ve moved on by now, that he would at the very least be okay. But he didn’t sound okay. Not at all.

“And—And I don’t want to, Y/n. I still love you. I don’t think I can move on. I’ve tried, but I can’t, I just can’t.”

Fresh tears welled in your eyes. Deep down, you knew that. After hearing that song, you just felt it in your bones that he was still in love with you.

So what did you do now? You’d broken his heart once before, and you didn’t think you had it in you to do it a second time. But you also broke up with him for a reason. A valid one.

And you’d moved on. Not to anyone in particular, but you weren’t the same person anymore. You were more independent, more outgoing. Would you revert back to going along with whatever Harry or his managers planned if you let yourself be loved by him again?

“I don’t know if I could do it again, Harry,” you said, trying to hide the wobble in your voice. “I came second to everything when we were together, and I would never get in the way of your career, but—”

“Do it. Get in the way. Y/n, please. I’ll never make the mistake of making you feel like anything else matters more to me than you do. Just—please. Can you come here? So we can talk?”

You found yourself nodding, wiping tracks of tears from your cheeks as you did so.

That was all you ever wanted from him. To know that you meant more to him than a performance or a writing session or a fitting.

“I—I’d like that,” you eventually said, nerves coiling in the pit of your belly.

“Thank you,” he muttered under his breath, but you weren’t sure if f you were supposed to hear that or not. “Just, um, make your way backstage. I’ll let someone know you’re coming.”

“Okay. See you then.”

You hung up the phone, but part of you didn’t want to, even if it was silly. You walked towards where you’d seen Harry and his band disappear after the show ended. Just as he said, you were let in without any fuss, and when you rounded the corner of a dark hallway, someone was at the end of it. It was dark, and all you could see was a silhouette, but you would know it anywhere.

Subconsciously, you picked up speed, letting your legs carry you quickly to where he was waiting. And when you were close enough, you launched yourself at him, cradling the back of his head with your hand while he squeezed you as tight as he could.

“I’m sorry,” he sobbed, his shoulders shaking with the sheer force of his crying.

You held him tight, letting him get all of his emotions out before speaking. You were sorry too, of course. Leaving him the way you did wasn’t right, but you were so hurt, you felt it was the only way to make him understand. And you worried that if you tried to break up with him to his face, you wouldn’t have been able to do it. So you took the cowardly route.

When the shaking mostly subsided, you leaned back far enough to hold his face in your hands.

“I forgive you.”

Harry’s smile was watery and weak, but it held hope, and you were sure you looked about the same.

Carefully, you lifted up on the balls of your feet and leaned in, pressing the gentlest kiss to his lips. It was short and sweet, but held every little thing that you couldn’t find the words to say.

Harry was quick to shake his head. “No. I’ll never be busy when it comes to you. I promise.”

“Are you busy right now?”

That was a pretty big promise, one that you weren’t sure if he would be able to keep, no matter how much he may have wanted to.

But you were okay with that. He meant it, and you believed him, and you just wanted to be in his arms again.

You’d moved on, and it was a fine life without Harry. You would be happy living without him, perhaps even better off, but you didn’t want to live without him. So you took his hand in yours, kissed his knuckles, and led him out of the venue, hoping against all hope that following your heart would lead you to a greater happiness.

[shares-a-vest]

@eddiemonth Day 8: Rockstar, Confident

Word Count: 952 Rating: T | cw: No Happy Ending, Break-Up Fic, No Resolution, Hurt No Comfort My first post for Eddie Month! With this event's prompts, I reallyyy want to challenge myself and write things I typically wouldn't/haven't so far. I'm sorry for starting out a week late with a no-happy-ending fic, I didn't mean for it to work out this way 😭😅 Thanks to both Lex and Lex for creating and hosting this event 💖💖💖

Since he was a boy, listening to a healthy combination of his mother's records and any and every radio station his dad could tune into, Eddie dreamed of being a rockstar.

When he was six, his grandma gifted him a battery-operated plastic microphone with sound effects. Later when he first moved in with his uncle and the Munson family had dwindled down to just the two of them, Wayne brought home an acoustic guitar from Goodwill.

Eddie practised and played away, sometimes for hours too long until underdeveloped callouses stung and bled. Wayne helped him paint 'This Machine Slays Dragons' on it so he could be just like Woody Guthrie, one of his mom's favourites.

He soon found his fellow bandmates in Jeff, Gareth and George. Gareth offered up his garage and Jeff came up with the name Corroded Coffin. Eddie and George made merch and drew up posters.

They practised and played until Gareth's mother kicked them out of the garage, complaining about what the neighbours might think of their noisy metal thrashing. They entered the Battle of the Bands contest in middle school, then started playing at The Hideout perhaps a few years too early for a handful of drunks who probably weren't listening anyway.

Then they spent the next few years scrimping and saving between jobs, travelling to other towns in his shitty van until they found an even shittier (but bigger) van and a studio that was willing to give them a booking to record a demo.

They shopped it around for a good long while as Eddie turned on his charm.

And one day they got a chance.

George called Eddie, frantically talking about a producer who wanted to re-record the demo with an expert on hand, all the while promising more music and a meeting with a potential manager.

And if all that wasn't enough, Eddie found himself with none other than Steve Harrington by his side.

After a good few years of pining and failed dates and the temporary comfort of other people, they finally got their act together. It was Christmas, just a few months after the demo got picked up. They kissed out on Claudia Henderson's front porch with snow falling around them as they promised each other more.

Then Corroded Coffin made it.

The perks came fast. Money – oh-so-much fucking money! Private cars and drivers to take them anywhere they wanted. Touring around the world and sightseeing between gigs. Adoring fans. Photoshoots. Magazine covers, interviews and TV spots.

Eddie always maintained it was about the music, though. The rush, the confidence and power it gave him to be performing on stage. Whether it be The Hideout or a goddamn stadium. It filled his soul from the moment he stepped on stage until the band finished their encore.

But most of all, he had Steve by his side. Always.

Until he didn't.

Until the night he got back to their hotel room, a swanky penthouse overlooking New York City that they always stayed in. They were barely a night out from returning back to the States from a quick promo tour in Europe for the new album.

Steve had left a note scrawled in his messy handwriting on the hotel's branded notepad.

'Going to Robin's' is all it said.

Eddie was angry at the time. He balled the note up in his fist and hurled it across the room.

At the time he was pissed because Steve was acting all bitchy pouty at the airport after barely speaking a word to him the whole flight. Then he was tapping away incessantly on the limo's middle armrest the whole car ride, looking at the window with his stupid Tom Cruise sunglasses on.

At the time he guessed it had something to do with the last night in Amsterdam. The band had a gig, the last one and Eddie just wanted some quiet so he skipped out on dinner, telling their security to pass the message on to Steve.

But it was just a tiff, right? Steve knew what it was like – how exhausting being on the road could get sometimes.

He thought Steve knew what the deal was, that he didn't mean anything by not going to dinner. Hell, Steve was used to a last-minute change of plans after years of this, right?

At least that's what Eddie told himself until Steve didn't call.

Or come back.

So, Eddie called Robin's number. No answer.

Then he asked Jeff to call, even their manager. Still nothing.

A call to Wayne made it real though.

"Eddie," his uncle had sighed, voice low and impossibly disappointed.

And then everything he had gained came to mean nothing.

As Eddie now stands at the door to Robin's apartment in Chicago, he knows he fucked up. Knows that it won't be easily forgiven.

Knows that Robin will probably cut his dick off if she arrives home from... Which gallery had she moved to, again? Steve told him. Weeks ago... months? He thinks...

He should have asked his publicist to look up the name of the gallery along with Buckley's address.

His stomach drops and tears begin to fall as Steve opens the door.

"Oh," his boyfr – Steve – mutters as his brows quickly knit together.

Eddie slaps his hand onto the doorframe, chancing the guy slamming the door shut and thus smooshing his guitar-wielding digits.

But then Steve rips off his wire-framed glasses and presses the heels of his palms into his reddening eyes.

"How could you just forget about me?" he sobs, his whole body shaking.

And Eddie is confident the sound of Steve choking on his own breath as he cries will haunt him for the rest of his life.

[hotpinkboots]

HEHEHEHEEEEE HELLO, DO YOU DO BREAK UPS? This is gonna sound SO deranged but may i please get an Anakin x reader where the reader TOTALLY breaks up with him one day?? I'm talking REALLY mean rejection, the most evil thing you can come up with. I dont know why I promise I'm not insane I'm not sure what excites me about this I'M SORRY 😭

~~~~~~~~~~~

~𝓐𝓷𝓪𝓴𝓲𝓷 𝓢𝓴𝔂𝔀𝓪𝓵𝓴𝓮𝓻 x Reader: Breakup Headcanons~

~~~~~~~~~~

AHAHAHA I LOVE YOU THIS IS NUTS OMG

MAKE BABY SUFFER >:))) I decided to do not only headcanons, but also a mini-oneshot with it because it adds to the misery

~Enjoy~

★★★★

𝓐𝓷𝓪𝓴𝓲𝓷 𝓢𝓴𝔂𝔀𝓪𝓵𝓴𝓮𝓻

★★★★

~Oh, he's so in love with you.

~So devoted, so doting over you, so cuddly, so sweet.

~...But you clearly aren't in the same boat.

~When you start becoming annoyed with him, he will try even harder to make you happy. You're all he desires. All he wants, all he needs- you're his oxygen, he'd suffocate without you.

~You think he's even MORE annoying now that he's desperately trying to make you happy.

~One night, he'll bring it up and ask you if you're happy. Ask you what you need so he can make it happen.

~You've had the last straw.

~~~~~

"Anakin, knock it off."

He paused mid-sentence, looking down at you with slight surprise in his eyes- eyes that were still bright just for you.

"What's wrong..?" Anakin frowned at your annoyed expression. He felt his chest grow tight. Why were you looking at him like that? He hated when leople looked at him like that. That was the look of annoyance and disappointment. That was the look of pure frustration on your face.

"You're trying too hard. It's annoying. No offense, but I can't stand to wake up to you every morning anymore. You go off on these... cheesy monologues everyday about me. It's getting old."

Anakin's face dropped, his brows furrowed slightly, his eyes becoming glossy with tears. Was he too clingy? Maybe he was. But he just loved you so much, what did you expect when you're the most perfect thing to exist?

"...I'm sorry...I can- I can stop-" Anakin stuttered out, his voice failing, his breath catching in his throat painfully.

You rolled your eyes and slapped a hand over your forehead. "No, Anakin, I mean I'm sick of it- as in DONE? You're obsessed with me. It's uncomfortable. I feel like you're always an emotional wreck, I can't keep getting dragged down into whatever pit of despair you're constantly in. I'm sorry, but I can't deal with you anymore."

Anakin looked like an injured puppy waiting for somebody to help him. Warm tears ran down those soft cheeks that you once used to kiss. He felt physical pain in his heart, a pain that caused his hand to shakily clutch his chest in agony. Anakin's throat felt constricted, and a soft whimper of pain escaped his kissable lips.

"(Y/N)..." Anakin breathed out painfully, his lips pulling down into a deep frown- the type of frown that one simply could not hide, the type of frown that forced it's way into someone's face no matter how hard they tried to hide it. He wanted to shout at you, he wanted to be angry, but he couldn't. He just felt this horrendously painful feeling in his body that made him feel both physically and mentally sick.

Had he really put all of his issues on you like that? Had he really been so clingy that it ended up pushing you away in the end? Were you just fed up with his personality...? Were you not attracted to him? For a moment, he thought of any way shape or form he could change for you. Would you love him if he looked entirely different? What did you dislike about him? Was it the prosthetic arm? Would you love him if he acted the opposite of his personality? Why couldn't he hide his problems? You should only be happy. You deserve happiness, not to be weighed down by him. He was a burden.

He was always a burden.

No matter where he went or what he did, he would always be a burden.

He could never be good enough for anybody.

"How...how can I make you love me again?" Anakin asked brokenly, his hand twitching as if he wished to hold yours, and he even instinctively reached forward to hold you. He stopped when he saw the uncomfortable, almost grossed out expression on your face when he reached for you. Anakin felt like he was drowning.

You looked him in the eye, your voice sounding unimpressed in your next statement.

"You can't."

~~~~~~~~~~

~He is going to be completely ruined for a VERY long time. No one can get him out of bed. No one can motivate him.

~He couldn't even if he wanted to. He was in the state of mind where focusing would not be possible. In fact, he'd probably cause far more danger on a mission than help with it.

~Anakin tries to be angry at you, but he only becomes angry at himself.

~Beats himself up about it, wondering what he could have done to make you happy, wondering why you didn't love him, or even like him for that matter.

~It makes the process of him turning to the dark even quicker.

~He only gets annoyed and angry when somebody tries telling him the usual, "Be mindful of your feelings, Anakin" advice. He's been hearing that everyday of his life. He's sick of it.

~Anakin is completely lost in the dark. He feels dead. He has no motivation. He feels unwanted, he feels like everybody hates him and is just secretly annoyed by his very existence.

~~~~~~~~~~

WHOAHOHOOO I LOVE WRITING ANGST :DD

Okay now someone request with happy baby boy because he deserves to be happy and loved 🥺💜

~~~~~~~~~~

Request Guidelines!

Fandom Masterlists! (Currently under construction (March 23rd 2023) because none of the links work. Nice job Tumblr.)

~~~~~~~~~~

Discord Server! Here you can roleplay with and as your favorite characters, get updates on my fanfiction, and get sneak peaks for my upcoming videogames!:

~~~~~~~~~~

~Love, PinkBoots

[daydream-cement]

cinderella's dead

Characters: Larissa Weems

Warnings: Some NSFW elements mixed in.

Synopsis: Larissa grows into herself after her breakup with Morticia. This is a songfic based off cinderella's dead by EMELINE.

Authors Note: I absolutely loved writing this. I hope y'all like it too.

I was nineteen in a white dress When you told me I'm your princess So I played right in to your fantasy

"Don't you just look beautiful tonight, my princess." Morticia purred in Larissa's ear. Larissa had been sitting at her desk, applying her make-up in the mirror when Morticia came up behind her. Now Morticia's hands grazed over the shapeshifter's shoulders, sweeping the hair from Larissa's neck before she pressed a kiss to her flesh.

"Thank you..." Larissa hummed, enjoying the attention. Morticia had been spending so much time with Gomez lately that she hadn't been paying any attention to her. This was nice.

"Want to do me a favor?" Morticia's voice was husky as she continued her kisses, allowing her hands to travel down Larissa's chest. Larissa leaned back into the touch.

"Yes, anything." Larissa usually agreed to Morticia's requests without hesitation, willing to do anything for her roommate. She was so beautiful that it was hard to say no.

"Fuck me as Gomez again?" Larissa's heart sunk. She wished Morticia would want to be with her as she was, but she wanted Morticia's touch more. She loved having the raven-haired girl beneath her begging for more.

Larissa set down her make-up brush and nodded, shifting into the person that Morticia wished she was with.

Was your good girl, so I'd sit tight And if I don't speak, then we can't fight Looked in the mirror, now I can't believe

Larissa laid in her bed facing the wall, trying not to listen in to Morticia and Gomez enthralled in one another's embrace. They were moaning and gasping for breath as they made out and felt one another up.

Morticia said he would leave by 10pm, but here it was 11pm and he was still there.

"Gomez," Morticia was obviously trying to catch her breath, "You need to get back to your dorm room..."

"Oh, Tish..."

"I don't want you to get in trouble..." The kissing resumed until Larissa heard a pair of feet hit the floor.

"I love you, cara mia." Gomez pressed a kiss to Morticia's hand, causing Morticia to bite her lip.

"I love you, mon sauvage." Morticia whispered as she shut the door to her dorm room.

Larissa felt Morticia crawl into bed with her, causing her to turn over and face her best friend. Morticia pulled her into an embrace, Larissa's head resting on her chest.

"Isn't he dreamy..." Morticia asked, playing with Larissa's hair. A groan came from the dark-haired girl as she thought of her boyfriend.

Larissa took a deep breath and released it, "Mhmm."

She lied. Morticia was the dreamy one. Morticia was everything.

Morticia's hand found Larissa's chin, tilting her head up to capture her lips with her own. Some of Larissa's frustration began to fade away. Morticia was intoxicating.

"Care to mess around for a bit?" Morticia broke the kiss to whisper, her hands trailing lower down Larissa's body, "I'm so horny."

Larissa nodded frantically, attaching her lips back to Morticia's.

I forgot I was a bad bitch, tragic Breaking all the rules 'cause they were only habits Cinderella's dead now, casket You thought the shoe fit but I

"Rissa, care to do me a favor?" Larissa had been in this situation one too many times before. Graduation was a month away and she had finally come to the realization that Morticia would never pick her over Gomez. Once again, Morticia wanted her to shapeshift into Gomez so she could fulfill the aching between her legs.

"Can't. I have a study date." Larissa shrugged, grabbing her bag from her desk chair.

"A study date?" Morticia stood, her tone sounded like that of a child who just heard the word 'no' for the first time.

"Yeah, me and Françoise are working on a project. Don't wait up." Larissa flashed Morticia one of her winning smiles before she left her roommate alone in their dorm room.

(Da-da-da, da-da-da, da-da-da, da-da-da-da)

Morticia was gone at Gomez's dorm room for the night. Larissa had been laying in bed. She felt an aching between her legs. She slipped a hand between her legs and began touching herself, thinking of only herself in that moment.

Enjoying the sensation between her legs, she was surprised when Morticia came back in the room, seeing that her roommate had been enjoying some 'private time'.

"Care for some company?" Morticia began sauntering towards Larissa, but stopped in her tracks at Larissa's response.

"No, thank you."

I forgot I was a bad bitch Now I'm blowing bubbles in my bath tub After six hours in the night club Got my feet up, put the TV on

Larissa was sitting in her bathtub, bubbles piled high in front of her. She leaned her head back on a towel behind her. The heat of the water and beautiful smells of the soaps had her in heaven.

The phone rang next to her. She pulled the long corded phone and set it on the closed toilet, knowing she wanted to enjoy herself in the tub all evening without having to get out.

She picked it up, a familiar voice on the other end.

"Larissa, it's Morticia! I'm coming into town. I was wondering if you-"

"Oh, sorry, Morticia. I am all booked up." Larissa said into the receiver before placing the phone back on the hook. She knew she was being petty and toxic, but nothing was going to wreck her peace. She had been working so hard to build her confidence that she didn't need Morticia coming back into her life to tear her down.

Probably end up on a rooftop With some new girls and our shoes off Might black out and text my mom (hello)

Larissa held up her drinks in unison with many of her newfound friends. She recently began working at Nevermore again as a history teacher. They had taken her to the bar in celebration of their newest addition to the Nevermore staff.

The night had been incredible, drinking and sharing stories and secrets. She hadn't thought of Morticia at all. For the first time she was building new friendships and didn't have a second half that people wanted to be with more. They all liked Larissa for herself.

Morticia stood outside the bar window. Gomez and her were supposed to be on a date night, but she paused to gaze at her former lover having a wonderful time. There was a pain in her chest. Was she jealous of her friend's new life without her?

I forgot I was a bad bitch, tragic Breaking all the rules 'cause they were only habits

Larissa wore black lingerie as she hung around her apartment. She had no visitors and no one to answer to. Morticia always told her to wear white. Black just wasn't her color, she would say.

Now, Larissa stood in front of the mirror. Hands trailing over her breasts and down to her thighs. She thought she looked incredible. That night she brought herself to orgasm again and again as she lay in front of the mirror. Only thinking of how beautiful she found herself.

Cinderella's dead now, casket You thought the shoe fit, but I

Morticia wrote Larissa a letter, but Larissa didn't even read it. She wasn't looking to have Morticia's friendship anymore.

Larissa put the stopper in the drain and turned on the water, filling the sink an inch full before she turned the water off. She took a match to the letter, allowing it to burn between her fingers before she dropped it in the water.

(Da-da-da, da-da-da, da-da-da, da-da-da-da)

I forgot I was a bad bitch, tragic Breaking all the rules 'cause they were only habits

Larissa was in a bar in New York, enjoying a trip with some of her new colleagues. Well, she was actually tucked away in the corner of a bar, tongue in the mouth of a woman she hadn't known but twenty minutes. Larissa didn't care, however. This woman was hot and she wanted her.

Half an hour later, they had moved to the bathroom and this stranger was going down on Larissa. The shapeshifter was seated on the bathroom counter as the stranger was on her knees, offering Larissa some of the best cunnilingus she had ever had.

This was the first time she had sex with someone that wasn't Morticia. This stranger wanted Larissa. Just Larissa.

Cinderella's dead now, casket You thought the shoe fit, but I

It was Larissa's ten year class reunion. She knew she would see Morticia, but she didn't care. She was now the Principal of Nevermore Academy. She didn't need anyone's approval but her own. Larissa stood in the entryway, greeting her peers as they entered the great hall.

"Larissa!" Morticia smiled at her former friend, her arm looped through her husband's.

"Morticia. Great to see you! Enjoy your night." Larissa's diplomatic smile brushed her ex lover to the side, knowing that Morticia would have to see her enjoying herself for the night.

I forgot I was a bad bitch (Forgot I was a bad bitch, bad bitch, bad bitch) I forgot I was a bad bitch (Forgot I was a bad bitch)

Larissa laughed with many of her old peers, reminiscing about the past, but she was cornered by Morticia when she went to get another drink.

"I've heard your still single." Morticia stated, was she rubbing it in or was she looking to reignite something.

"Well, I'm not really looking right now. I have a couple of people I may see on the weekends, but nothing serious." Larissa shrugged, as she looked back onto the party before looking down at Morticia, aiming to make her old roommate feel small.

"Oh, really?" Morticia straightened her back, trying to make herself taller.

"I actually have my eyes on someone right now." Larissa looked passed Morticia at an old classmate who had asked Larissa on a date back in high school when Larissa was pining after Morticia.

Morticia was left standing alone. Larissa really had moved on.

(Da-da-da, da-da-da, da-da-da, da-da-da-da)

[haruhar-u]

I’m Tired Of Always Chasin’, Chasin’ After You

-1117 words

Xiyao modern au, hurt no comfort

AO3 upload

TWS: breakups, overall angst, cursing

A/N: they may be out of character as this is my first time writing for this fandom

*･゜ﾟ･*:.｡..｡.:*･'･*:.｡. .｡.:*･゜ﾟ･**･゜ﾟ･*:.｡..｡.:*･'･

Lan Xichen was always slow to anger. He always had control over his temper. Whenever pissed, he always would remove himself from the situation; making sure to take a breath of fresh air. The only time he remembers actually losing it was at his brother’s husband but those two are happily married now and recently adopted a son. However, his boyfriend, Jin Guangyao, was close to pushing him over. He slept in his office instead of coming back to their shared apartment at night. The actions he took in his plot to climb the ranks at his company hurt everyone Jin Guangyao Yao was close to. His brother, father, mentor, and friends all cut ties with him. The only one who didn’t was Lan Xichen. 

Xichen wanted to give his A-Yao a chance, really he really did. However, the trust that was the glue between the two was weakening to the point where it might as well have fully dissolved into nothing. Was there really nothing between the two left? Xichen didn’t want to believe that. Surely the blossoms of his love for A-Yao were still in full bloom and hadn't withered and expired yet. 

He invited A-Yao out to their favourite cafe. It was where they had their first date and where A-Yao asked him out before that. It was a high tea place with exquisite china cups and teapots. On the platter placed in the middle of the table, there was an assortment of different cakes, macaroons, and other small baked goods. 

Xichen was surprised that this date could even happen. A-Yao was so concerned with his job that they had to reschedule multiple times because he worked too late or took on another project, pushing their date further and further back. Sometimes he even forgot to show up, leaving Xichen at the place alone. They were only able to go out today because Xichen quite literally chased after him to remind him. Xichen had this thought that occasionally popped into his mind. What if A-Yao didn’t give a fuck about their relationship anymore. Xichen knew this was an intrusive thought and tried to push it away. 

“What’s been keeping you busy?” Xichen asked him.

“I’ve received an anonymous letter detailing Qin Su.” A-Yao replied, cutting a piece of cake on his plate.

“A letter? About your assistant?”

“Former assistant, and no, not completely ” A-Yao corrected. Former? He fired her? A-Yao loved his assistant and would always sing praise about her over text, phone, and in person to Xichen. Why would he fire her?

“Not completely?” Xichen asks, confused. 

Complete and utter silence from A-Yao.

“Please answer me.”

“They threatened me. They told me that all my secrets would be released unless I fired A-su.” He muttered, avoiding eye contact with Xichen. “They wanted her fired because they felt I only hired her because of nepotism.” 

Xichen let out a sigh of disappointment. “A-Yao, what if they didn’t even have your secrets? Then, you just hurt your sister for nothing.” 

“Babe, I had no choice! What if they did know? Then what would I have done if they were released?”

“Did you want to fire her?” 

“No! Like I said, I didn't really have a choice. Maybe they were right, maybe it was nepotism.” 

“How could you not have a choice. She was your assistant, a part of your branch at work. Besides, if you felt it was nepotism, why would you hire her in the first place?” Xichen scolded 

“I-I was pressured into it by my father a few years ago.”

Xichen settled down. “I see.” 

“I was just scared this person would just reveal the fact that I got my father and brother fired just last year..” 

“You what?” 

A-Yao looks him dead in the eye, pleadingly his voice shaking. “I-I felt I had to. But, babe, you don’t have to worry. You know I’d never hurt you, right?” 

Xichen snaps at him, standing up and putting his hands down on the table, gaining attention from everyone else around. “You said you loved her. You say you love me, but how do I know that? How do I know you’re not just using me?! I just wish you’d thought things through before I you know, fell in love with you?” Fuck. Xichen can’t take that back. He does admit that he wanted to confront him about that. Not like that, though. He wanted to ask him about his worries, have A-Yao comfort him, and then tell him it’s okay and he won’t have to worry. Xichen fucked that up. That won’t ever happen. Especially considering Meng Yao’s reaction. His eyes widen, he mumbles something that looks somewhat like an apology, rummages through his wallet, leaves money to pay, and then he runs. Xichen felt he should chase after him and say he’s sorry, so he’s not the one who got away. But he can’t. He feels glued to his seat. 

After a while and a very concerned waiter who went by the name Wen Ning from his name tag asking if he’s okay, Xichen decides he’ll go home, apologize to Meng Yao, and maybe they can move past this like nothing happened? He leaves money to pay for his portion of the bill and spends what feels like forever on public transit. 

Once he unlocks the door, His apartment looks more desolate, as if something were missing. The grey colour palette looks more hostile. It reminded him of when he and A-Yao discussed painting the walls and agreed their landlord would have their heads. He walks into their bedroom when he finally notices it:All of A-Yao’s stuff is just gone, as if it were reduced to nothing by ashes. He found a note tied to a bouquet of hyacinths and rue...hyacinths and rue? Xichen wasn’t very well versed in flower language; that’s something he’d have to ask his brother-in-law about. He decided to read the note.

To my dearest Xichen,

I really cherished every moment we spent together. However, I realized I really treated you like shit. As if I didn’t give a fuck about you and as if I was only using you for protection against my father and for your status as a Lan. Towards the end of our relationship, I couldn’t give you what you deserved, and I didn’t communicate well enough with you. I want you to know I really give a fuck about you. I love you, and for that reason, I’m killing our relationship. Despite you telling me you’d die for me at one point, I feel you’re better off without me. I bid you well, my love. 

With regret,

Jin Guangyao

[scarletevening]

coffee as hot as hell [ kenma kozume ]

You knew it was his passion.  As childish as you felt thinking so, it felt as though you were nothing next to Kenma’s beloved video games, his streaming audience. He told you he loved you so often, maybe not with words but with his action. It felt as though those small actions, like buying you a bouquet of your favorite flowers that you mentioned over a year ago, or remembering how you like your coffee, it felt as though they were disappearing. 

Maybe you just got too comfortable. 

cw: angst, gn reader

Kenma had an ex before you. A woman named Yui, someone he meant through his frequent gaming. They dated for quite a while, and she was Kenma’s first. First kiss, first relationship, first everything, first ex, the first person to cheat on him. You had been friends with him during their relationship, unaware of the peaking romance in your heart. His breakup with her brought you two closer, as you comforted him the night he found out what she did. He couldn’t even say that he was disgusted because of his insecurities. You did everything for his happiness, you fell to your knees and dropped everything for him the moment he opened his mouth. 

So why couldn’t he have done the same? You were still tearing yourself apart for him but he was giving nothing to you except ignoring you, while he obsessively plays his video games, not paying any mind to you when you enter his room. You had finished a hard project that you had been struggling with recently for school, and you wanted to share it with him again since it was quite important to your degree. 

“Can you just be quiet? I’m trying to focus and this ranked,” Your heart stung, but you just gave a sour smile, pursed your lips, and left his office. Maybe he would be willing to speak with you after his session, just wait a bit. 

15 minutes quickly turned into 30, then an hour, then another. But by the end of the second, you had your shoes and jacket on, sighing as you lost your patience and couldn’t even keep yourself entertained. Your heart was crushed, stomped on, and shattered. Maybe it would be a one-time thing. 

It would be a lie if you said it didn’t sting when he didn’t call you later. Send you a text asking where you were. He could have just asked why you had left. Actually, he should have been apologizing for his lack of care! He didn’t even take a moment to speak with you! He didn’t even say hello, he went straight to criticizing you. What an excuse of a boyfriend he was! Kenma really wasn’t a good one, but the only thing that it brought up in you was how you could have changed. 

Maybe he was just tired and fell asleep. 

You had gotten almost used to the presence. Or lack of, since you were at least in the same house, just maybe four rooms apart. 

The first year of your relationship was like heaven on earth. Never once did the spark of warmth and comfort leave the both of you. His hand was always with yours and he never was four rooms away. He spoke to you first and texted you first. He even sent you flowers! Flowers!  From someone so indescribably lazy he went through the effort to go through flower language! 

All for you. 

It didn’t feel like it was all for you, not anymore. You heard the laughter, the air of smiles that suffocated you because it wasn’t you on the receiving end of Kenma’s happiness. 

“What is it.” The words sounded like a question but Kuroo knew better. You saw the think gulp he swallowed, his face like he was in pain. Every moment he would open his mouth to speak, before closing it again. Again, and again, and again. You felt the tears pricking at your eyes. His face told you everything, the scrunched eyebrows and the pitiful eyes he gave you. 

The three of them stood in Kuroo’s small apartment as your fist banged on his door. He jumped running at the sound of your voice. Akaashi quickly ran to you. Abruptly stopping when you were nothing like he expected. Straight face, wandering eyes from each face. Before you pulled to the kitchen far into the apartment, sliding into the barstool at the island. 

Bokuto stood in pure confusion, unaware of anything going on, Akaashi took this as a sign his assumptions were correct. Kuroo knew. He knows.

You slumped over your head on the cold granite, warm candle fires decorating the table fluttering in your sight. Bokuto was the first to approach you. He didn’t know the cause of this, but maybe he could help. Quick to stop him Kuroo began to roll your name off his tongue before you asked the question.  

“What is it?” Again, always again. Your voice shook and Kuroo stood in silence. Your head was still down when you heard mug tink against the table. 

“A drink?” Akaashi's voice was quiet, a sorrowful whisper as his gentle hand reached for yours. 

“Maybe a coffee, yeah, that’d be nice.” His eyebrows came tightly knit at the feeling of your hand trembling in his. His eyes through a violent glare at Kuroo, whose lips are pursed. 

-ˋˏ✄┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈

Ao3 link!

[eriquin]

So, I'm in a mood apparently because I think I want to know more about the "Breakup Fic" if you wanna share? 👀

Oh this one was spawned from another fic, or fic idea, that went around a few months ago. It's pretty dark and involves the characters being awful to each other and regretting it, then a significant time-skip of suffering and growth and probably a lot of therapy.

It's modern AU enough to have cellphones, texting, and the idea of revenge porn. The concept is that college-aged Eddie discovers Steve is exploring his bisexuality, though not completely out yet. Eddie remembers him from high school. Steve does not remember Eddie. They hook up.

Eddie hatches a plan of revenge. While he doesn't tell his friends exactly who is involved, he does tell them it's one of the insufferable jocks from high school who made their lives miserable. They agree that completely shattering the guy's ego is a great idea, because they're all in their early 20s and kind of assholes.

It's compounded by a bunch of under-negotiated kink and boundary pushing, and also complicated by Steve's reluctance to come out. He's financially dependent on his parents and unwilling to risk that. Secrets come out, they break up, and the whole thing leaves both of them feeling like shit.

There's some interaction with Will on both sides that resolves a little bit about it, but they still break up and go their separate ways for a long time. Part 2 is them reconnecting as more mature adults in a contrived situation because I love drama. There's also substance abuse, cheating, and other terrible coping methods. It's sketched out but not written.

[theycallmebun]

unbound are you by me

kuroo tetsuro x gn!reader 

genre: angst 

wc: 697

warnings: break upppp

things just weren’t the same anymore. how could they be? 

you were a year younger than kuroo. you knew that when you started dating, things would be hard when the next school year came around. you would finish your third year while kuroo was away at university. and you were hopeful–naive and stupid. 

what you and kuroo had was special, no doubt about it. the both of you wanted a future together and long distance to work out. you knew you loved him and he loved you, but was that enough? could that keep the two of you together?

you spent every day of the summer dreading the fall, thinking of all the possible ways things could go wrong– the worst case scenario. you tried not to think about it, to live in the moment, but the inevitable truth stuck with you. 

you understood it would be hard, but god, not this hard. 

the first week was slow. on the first day, you couldn’t have felt more alone. kuroo was busy moving and getting settled in, so you didn’t get to speak that much. the second day, you two got in a fight. the first of many while he was away. the fights were worse over the phone because nothing felt resolved long after communicating. 

kuroo got so busy so quick and you only had time to talk for a short bit at the end of the day, and sometimes, not at all. but it was out of your control. what could you do? ask him to be less busy? that’s almost impossible to control. ask him to make more time for you? that’s selfish. 

and on top of things, you felt terrible for talking to him at all. you felt selfish for the little time you got to “spend” with him. he always has late plans so he calls you before. always in a hurry, in a rush. he could just be with his friends already or be getting work done, so why was he wasting time on you? you felt like you were holding him down. holding him down from his new life, tying him to his old town, to nothing. nothing was there for him anymore. it was just you, but you weren’t even sure if that was enough to bring him back. more than half the time he called you, you would get in a fight anyway, so surely he was tired of that. tired of you.  

it didn’t take you long to realize… 

–

you two agreed to talk around 8 pm, like usual. 

“hey, baby,” kuroo greeted. 

“hey, tetsuro.”

you don’t give yourself or him the chance to talk about how the day has gone. you tell him how you’ve been feeling for the past couple of weeks, how you’ve been hurting, how you feel pathetically alone, how you’ve lost yourself, and how you hate to say it but you want to break up. 

kuroo doesn’t say anything for a while. he’s thinking, trying to give you his most meaningful words. 

“is that really what you want?” he asks. 

it’s the heartbreaking truth but the truth nonetheless. “yes.”

“ok then,” he pauses, “ i’m sorry i made you feel anything less than love,y/n. you’re the best thing to have happened to me and i’m so glad we had the time that we did. i couldn’t have gone this lifetime without experiencing you. i’m sorry i wasn’t there and can’t be.”

“it’s ok, tetsuro. please just go experience the rest of college. mess around a little. experience different people who are there with you. experience more than me,” you tell him. 

he knows more than to beg for you to rethink things. he assumes this is all you’ve been thinking about since the say he left–and he’d be right. 

“ok, y/n. i’m sorry, and thank you for everything. i love you. i’m so so sorry.”

with that, you hung up the phone. you allowed yourself to grieve but you knew it couldn’t be for long. you’d go back to him if you did. you need to put your focus back on yourself and where you are. 

a/n: if you read this, thank you so much. i’m sorry for not posting for such a long time and i hope you’ll still enjoy my work.

[chaotictarlos]

💔💔💔💔💔💔💔💔💔💔

Hello lovely! Thank you for the ask! Because of your ask I added 952 to the breakup fic! Here's a small peak for you:

When Carlos heard that there was snow in the forecast he actually laughed. He was sure it was the first time in months that he had actually laughed without it sounding like a half sob. 

Snow in Texas?

The odds of that were pretty even with the odds that he and TK would get back together - and that was slim to none.

In all his life he had never seen a single snowflake fall in Texas and he was pretty certain that it wasn’t going to happen now. It was just weathermen being confused and everyone would be laughing the next day when they woke up to warm weather.

T does Nano

[vanivenivici]

Character study #4! Artificial Flowers Kingdom Hearts | Modern AU | breakup fic | Kairi character study

Kairi can't complain about her life. She has everything she ever wanted: a big house; her childhood sweetheart; and even a low-stress job. So, why is she not happy? Only her prickly hairdresser knows for sure.

The quietly devastating unhappy sokai / fledgling vanikai fic that I wrote for me and maybe three other sickos (affectionate). Featuring Sora and Kairi having very different ideas of what it means to be in a relationship; mismatched love languages; and the cold, sterile emptiness of suburban living.

Also hairdresser!Vanitas and a banger first line (if I do say so myself).

[thatoneguy56fanfic]

https://archiveofourown.org/works/40826214

[morganski-19]

Conversation 3: The Breakup

JANCY BREAKUP SCENE. IF THIS ISN'T YOUR THING, PLEASE SKIP!!!!

I want to emphasize that I do love Jancy, but for the purposes of this fic series, Ronance and Jargyle are the relationships shown. I just had an idea of how the breakup conversation would have gone and wanted to show that it was mutual between the two. This takes place between chapters 3 and 4 of the main fic. It can be read as a stand alone and is also available on ao3

To say that Nancy Wheeler was nervous was an incorrect statement. Because Nancy doesn’t get nervous. That was something her younger self focused on too much and something she doesn’t have time to care about now. Being nervous meant that she was worried that this was the wrong decision, that she was going to make a mistake. 

Nancy Wheeler does not make mistakes. 

Or at least she tries not to make them anymore. She understands that people aren’t perfect, humans weren’t made to be. And the human psyche is bound to make mistakes and decisions that they would later regret. She’s seen too many people do the same thing. 

Her parents are a large example. Karen Wheeler married a stable man to have a family. White picket fence on the end of a culdesac where she has no worries in the world other than making sure her kids are safe and get to school on time. Them being a good match not being considered as much. Because who cares if your kids see you fighting once a week, at least you’re not starving. 

It's a life Nancy knows she doesn’t want. She doesn’t want to be trapped by a man as useless as her father. Waiting on her husband's hand a foot while he does absolutely nothing but make a fuss and the situation worse. She’s seen how marriage has treated her mother and she doesn’t want to become her. The love and pity Nancy has for her mother are great, and all she wants is for her to be happy. But her life is separate from her mother’s, and that’s by her own choice. 

Nancy’s had a lot of privileges in her life, but the ability to choose has been one that flounders in and out of her hands. She can choose her relationships, her friends, her college, her major. Things she loves so much that it makes her happy. What she can’t choose is the unexpected. Monsters breaking through portals in trees and ceilings, children going missing, best friends dying, the inevitable grief and pain of knowing that you could have done something to help. She didn’t choose this part of her life, and yet it is hers. 

Though the bad things in her life have brought her to people she never would have expected. A new sense of self and bravery. Assuradness in herself that she can do something with her life more than just be a mother. Drive and passion beyond what she ever envisioned that will fuel her future career. Friends and a family outside of blood relations that will be there for her every step of the way. And a boyfriend, who has his faults, but is there regardless. 

Except when she really needs him. 

It’s something she’s been grappling with for the past few weeks, maybe even for the past few months. There’s something that she can’t quite explain but has been lingering in the back of her mind for some time. She knows that what once was between them isn’t quite there anymore, something lost with the bits of themselves over the years. People grow, and more importantly, people grow apart. 

She knew that she started to feel differently about Jonathan since the phone calls and letters started to dwindle. When he stopped sending and she stopped responding. Stopped reaching out to make sure he was still there. At first, it presented in anger. Anger that he just left her behind and stopped talking to her. Anger that she knew he was keeping something for her and wouldn’t say it. That it was driving a wedge between them that was starting to stop being repaired. 

Nancy hated secrets. But she hated it more that he felt like he couldn’t tell her something.

She’d had that before in relationships, with Steve. Lying for the sake of saving face and saying things that weren’t true. Faking feelings for the sake of stability only to hurt when the mask had fell. It wasn’t that she didn’t like Steve, she did, she just didn’t love him. But he loved her, and that’s what she wanted. A shoulder to cry on, someone to tell her it was alright. A crutch to hold her until she could stand for herself again. That’s what he was to her, and she hated herself for reducing him to that. 

So, when she started dating Jonathan, she decided that it was time for a change. She was more open and accepting, and tried to get him to share so they would be on an equal playing ground. It worked, mostly. They had fights like any couple did, but they always came back from it. It was a promise they made, to never let something build so much that it would break. That was what she did to Steve, and she didn’t want to do it again. 

But she did do it again because apparently, she loved to hurt people like this. She kept in her disappointment in him not visiting for spring break. Kept back wondering why the letters stopped and why the news of college applications never came. Not that she would even be that mad if he didn’t go with her, she just wanted to be kept in the loop. 

And that is exactly what he didn’t do. Not that she blamed him. It was the plan for the two of them to go to Emerson together, her dream school. Nancy always wondered why he agreed to the plan so quickly, even though she heard him talk about dreaming of NYU since he was a child. And if that were really where he wanted to go, she would support it. New York and Boston were not as far away as Hawkins and Lenora. They could have made it work if that is what he wanted. 

Deep down, all Nancy wanted was for Jonathan to be happy. It’s why she kept up the appearance that everything was ok when it wasn’t. Because he was happy. It’s what he deserved to be after all that had happened. 

Then the bomb dropped. He never sent in the application and was too ashamed to tell her why. At that moment, something broke in their relationship and she didn’t know if it would be fixed. Because he didn’t trust her enough to say it, and part of her never trusted him to send it. 

Which is why the two of them decided to take a break from each other for a while. Not an official breakup, just a chance to spend some time not tied to each other to figure things out. Let the steam of their last argument fade away and come back when they were more level-headed. To have time to think about what this relationship meant to each other, and if being in it still matched each other's futures. Give her a chance to explore her newfound attraction to women and if one of them happened to gain feelings for another person, then it was done. 

Her screen lights up with a message from Robin.

Robin: Let me know if I have to break out the ice cream tonight

Robin: I still have the good stuff Steve bought me last week

She smiles at the text messages. The thought that Robin has for her sometimes surprises her. She just gets Nancy like no one else does, so far that she even makes time to carve out time for something that might not even happen. Nancy’s never had that many friends, and never one as close as Robin since Barb. It feels nice to have another person know her this well again. 

Nancy: I’ll be sure to let you know

Robin: Are you ready for this?

Robin: I know you were nervous about it before

Nancy: I still am

Nancy: I honestly don’t even know what I want anymore, I just want the two of us to be able to figure it out

The three dots show up and disappear as Robin figures out what to say. 

Robin: You’ll figure it out, you always do

Robin: And no matter what happens, I’ll be here for you

Nancy: I know, thank you

Robin: Anytime Nance

Nancy clicks off her phone and sets it on her desk. She’s been preparing what she wants to say to Jonathan when they get together later all morning. Making a list of feelings and worries she has. All of the things she can do to change to make this work. 

Something in her, however, tells her that it’s over. And that part of her is relieved. The other is worried, because she just doesn’t want to break his heart. 

. . . 

Jonathan sits at the foot of his bed, fiddling with a piece of paper in his hand. Argyle suggested that writing down what he wanted to say might help, even offered to practice with him, but it wasn’t right. He knew that the words he wrote on the paper weren’t the full truth. That he was extending himself more than he should just to make her happy. 

Because that’s all he wants to do, make Nancy happy. 

He doesn’t know if he can fully do that anymore. The hurt on her face when he told her about never sending in the Emerson application replays in his mind. The break that he sensed in their bond that has yet to be mended. The fight that ensued ended in him asking for a break, some time to cool off. She agreed that she needed the time too. And with some of his new realizations, he couldn’t have asked for a better-timed break. 

Time in Lenora drew a strain on their relationship, he knew it. He was the one that stopped reaching out after all. What started as one less phone call a month to never responding to a letter ended in one small form of communication every few months. A note from Mike at the bottom of one of El’s letters, a hello sent through Karen when she called to check in on Joyce. 

It was him who stopped reaching out, it was only fitting for him to be the one to end it. 

Still, it rattled Jonathan’s mind whether he actually wanted to end it or not. He loved Nancy, he really did. Still loved her even. Yet he can’t help but feel like the love has shifted into a different place in his heart. That it was more platonic than it was romantic.

It wasn’t always like that with her. Even before they got together, he had to settle the jealousy in his heart that would spurt every time he saw her kiss Steve. The knowledge that she was in a relationship loomed over his heart. Because she wasn’t his to have, and he had to learn to accept that. 

Then she and Steve broke it off one night and he took her home. Saw the way that he could have this if she wanted it. But it was too soon, so he didn’t say anything. Not until Murray weaseled his way into their love lives and revealed that he might just have a chance. A chance that he took. 

After all the upside down was dealt with and life returned to normal, he made a promise to himself. That he was not going to hold himself back in this relationship, hide like he did when they were just friends. If this was going to work, he needed to put all of his cards out on the table and show her that he cared. Couples fought, he knew that, but he knew how to do it wrong so he tried to do it right. It worked, until it didn’t. 

Because the one thing that Jonathan forgot, is that he got scared. Scared that voicing what he wanted would be downplayed. Scared that saying what he really felt would end in a fight. Scared that a big enough fight would end it all like it did with his parents. 

He knows that fighting wasn’t the reason they broke up. The fact that his dad was a raging abusive asshole was. Yet, there was still the fear in Jonathan’s mind that he could end up like him. So, he bottled up his feelings until they exploded, spreading words faster than he could think, not noticing how much they hurt.

There are a lot of things that he wished he could take back. Fights that wouldn’t have happened if he just talked to her sooner. Opinions that he kept to himself to ensure that she stayed happy. Choices he made without talking to her first, especially the ones that their future depended on.

Not applying to Emerson wasn’t the most logical decision in the sense of their relationship, but it was in the sense of his life and family. If he had just told her about it sooner, maybe then she would have understood. Heard him instead of blowing up what he said to fuel the fight. He wished he told her sooner, he really did. The secret pulled on his heart every time he thought about their future together, the plan the two had made. Go to Emerson, get jobs at the same newspaper, get married, and spend their lives together. 

It was a simple plan in theory, but a plan that Jonathan wasn’t sure he wanted anymore. 

His phone buzzed. Picking it up, he sees Argyle trying to face time him. Swiping, he accepts. 

“Yoo, my dude. How’s it hanging.”

Jonathan laughs at his friend, a familiar smile forming on his face. “Not great. Dude.”

“Awww no. What’s got you feeling down?”

“I’m having that talk with Nancy today. The one I was telling you about a few days ago.”

Argyle’s face lights up with recognition, a small O forming on his lips. “Right. Did you right write it all down like I told you to?”

Jonathan looks down at the paper in his hand, words scribbles out and jumbled into some sort of paragraph. He crumples it up and tosses it in his desk trashcan. “I did, but they weren’t right.”

“But they were something. It’s a start, try again and maybe it will get you further.”

He knows it won’t, because there is something he’s too afraid to think rather than write down. Someone new who started to move from the platonic to the romantic side in his heart. Someone who he never thought could be there before. 

With Nancy discovering new things about herself while they were on their break, he was starting to as well. That’s what it was for after all. Space for them to figure out what they wanted and see if their relationship fit that. If either of them started to have feelings for someone else, that was allowed. Because as far as they know, it was over until it wasn’t. 

It was Nancy who asked for a deeper separation after finding out about her attraction to women. Let herself find out if it was true or not by allowing herself to develop feelings if the chance came up. If Jonathan was being really honest with himself, he was almost relieved at the suggestions. He was starting to do the same thing. 

“I just think that what I have to tell her should come more, from the heart.” Jonathan starts, struggling to find the words. “I think I’ll be able to tell her more in person than I would on paper.”

“Whatever works best for you man. Have you decided what you want the outcome to be yet?”

The question strikes Jonathan speechless. He has thought about it, a lot. Late nights thinking about what he wanted to say, what he could change to make things work out. How they can work together and through this in order to keep what they had. Part of his mind started to wander to what ifs of actually breaking up. How the pain would overtake and leave him broken and alone. Because he didn’t want to lose Nancy. That’s all he seemed to be worried about though. Losing Nancy. Whatever the outcome of this upcoming conversation was, he didn’t want it to end with Nancy not being in his life. Whether or not they were still in a relationship didn’t matter to him as much. 

Which was the most confusing part for him. It was almost as if he had stayed in this relationship with Nancy for so long because of the fear of losing her. Sure, there was love there, had been for a long time. But recently he can’t help but to have noticed that the love started to fade, started to be overshadowed by someone new. 

And that was the scary part. 

“I’m not quite sure,” Jonathan confesses. “I don’t really know if I care too much about how it ends up, I just don’t want to lose her.”

“Have you thought that you not caring is exactly your answer.”

The way Argyle can read Jonathan is still one of the things that shock him the most. For the short time that they’ve been friends, they’ve grown closer than anyone he’s ever known. Including Nancy. He’s been able to tell Argyle things he barely even knew himself. Something about just being around the other wants to make Jonathan spill his darkest secrets. He was the first person Jonathan told about the college decision, about the break, and how he feels like there’s something missing from himself that he can’t quite explain. 

What he hasn’t told him, is that Argyle was starting to make him want to explain it. 

Jonathan sighed, “Yeah, you’re probably right.” He gets a text notification that Nancy is on her way over. “I have to go, she’ll be over here soon.”

“Ok. Let me know when you’re done, I’m coming with an emotional support pizza.”

“Some weed probably won’t hurt either.”

Argyle glares at him through the phone. “No weed when there are big emotions. It’ll only make it worse, trust me.”

Jonathan laughs. “Fine. Talk to you soon.”

“Good luck dude.” 

With that, Jonathan hangs up and flops back on his bed. He runs his hands down his face, pressing his fingers against his eyes. He can do this. He just hopes he doesn’t break her heart in the process. 

. . . 

Nancy pulls up in front of the Byers’ house, a million thoughts racing through her head. Gripping the steering wheel so hard her knuckles turn white, she takes a deep breath. She can do this. Just act like it’s a normal conversation, another one of their many talks after a fight that will leave them stronger than they would before. Even though deep in her heart, she’s less sure of that fact than she lets on. 

She walks up to the front door, knocking on it gently. When it opens, she’s met with Jonathan’s weak smile, the one she knows all too well. “Hey, Nancy,” he says, almost apologetically, rubbing his arm. 

“Hi,” she breathes out, giving him a tight-lipped smile. 

Jonathan moves aside, letting her walk through the door. He leads her up to his bedroom, what used to be a place where the two could be free and in love, now filled with tension and the unbearable weight of knowing that something is going to happen. Gesturing for her to sit on his bed, he pulls his desk chair to sit across from her. 

“So,” he swallows. “How are you?”

“Good,” she replies plainly. “And you?”

“Good.”

The silence between the two is deafening. Neither one of them know how to start this, fumbling around with their hands while avoiding eye contact. It shouldn’t be this hard. Jonathan was the person who Nancy could tell everything to. She still wants that relationship with him, but doesn’t know if she can have it by saying what she really feels. 

“I uh, did a lot of thinking in the past week,” Nancy says, trying to start something between them. 

Jonathan finally meets her gaze, if only for a second. “Cool, about what?”

“About my past and stuff. Who I always was attracted to and I found out that yeah, I definitely like girls.”

“I’m glad you figured that out,” he laughs. “It, uh, kinda got me thinking about all of that too. Who I’m attracted to and stuff.”

“Do you think you might be?”

Jonathan nods, filling in the sentence without words. “Yeah, I know I am. Same as you, kinda.”

Nancy smiles. “Well, I’m glad you figured that out as well.”

He stares at the corner of his room before shutting his eyes. Taking a deep breath, he whispers, “That’s not all I’ve been thinking about.”

It shouldn’t surprise her, she’d been doing the same thing. But it does. “Me too,” she whispers back, ashamed. “Mainly about us.”

Jonathan takes another deep breath and looks down at his hands. “Yeah, me too. I just … don’t know if this-” he opens his mouth to say more but the words don’t come out. 

Nancy purses her lips, willing for herself to finish the phrase for him. It’s the same for her, she had a feeling that it was. But she can’t say it, too afraid to have the words cemented in reality. Slowly, she reaches across the gap between them and takes Jonathan’s hand. He meets her gaze and holds it this time, the mutual feelings communicating between them when the words can’t. 

“I know,” Nancy finally says. “I’ve been feeling the same way. I’ve … tried to think of ways to fix this, come back together after all of this. But I can’t help but feel like we can’t.”

. . . 

Jonathan looks at Nancy saying all of the things he’s been feeling, and can’t help but feel relieved. It fills him with guilt, because he knows that there is something else to his decision than there is to hers. But she feels the same break that he did, the bridge that was broken so much that it could never be crossed again. Bridges can be mended and rebuilt, but he thinks that theirs will be rebuilt differently.

“I’m sorry,” he mutters, unable to find any other words. 

“I’m sorry, too.” A small tear runs down her cheek. “I just don’t feel the way I used to about you.”

He blinks away the tears starting to form in his eyes. “I feel the same way but I … I just don’t want to lose you.”

Nancy’s face fills with a soft sense of relief. “I don’t want to lose you either. You’re too special to me. Part of me wanted to make things work just so I wouldn’t, but I can’t force myself to feel something that I don’t anymore.”

Tears start to roll down his cheeks, unable to keep them trapped anymore. “I feel the same way.”

“I still love you, I think I always will. But it’s like that love is different now.”

A weight lifts off of Jonathan’s chest as she says the words he’s been feeling for weeks. “I know exactly what you mean.”

“Good, I guess. So, friends,” Nancy smiles.

“Yeah,” Jonathan exhales. “Friends.”

He stands up and steps toward his bed, leaning down to wrap her in a big hug. She grips the back of his shirt, digging her face into his shoulder. The two can’t keep their tears from forming anymore, finally letting the full weight of their decision flow through. Jonathan buries his nose into her neck, feeling the soft strands of hair brush against his face. 

He didn’t lose her, not from this. 

When she pulls back, she wipes the tears from her eyes, smudging her mascara a bit. He returns to the chair across from her, not quite sure where else to go. There is a burning in his chest to tell her everything. Lay all of what he’s felt in the past few weeks on the table. Even though he knows that she won’t be mad, there is still a part of him that’s scared that she’ll take it badly. Because how can he tell her that he’s started gaining feelings for his best friend?

“What’s wrong,” Nancy asks softly, always able to read him like a book. 

“There’s uh … another reason why I didn’t think we would work anymore.”

“Oh?”

Jonathan swallows the lump in his throat. “Yeah uh. I’ve sort of started getting … feelings for someone else.” He closes his eyes, unable to force himself to see how she’ll react.

He feels her hand grab his again. “Hey, that’s ok. We agreed that this break was open. You were allowed to start feeling things for someone else if that’s what happened.”

“Yeah, I know. Doesn’t stop me from feeling guilty about it though.”

“Don’t be. Can I ask who it is?”

Jonathan feels a small smile form on his face, like he’s gossiping with a friend, not a now ex-girlfriend. “Argyle.”

Nancy smiles. “Would it be weird of me to say that I had a feeling?”

“What,” Jonathan exclaims. “I thought I was hiding it well.”

“You were not,” she laughs. “Every single time we talked in the past week you’ve brought him up. Even in the most random situations.”

Jonathan scoffs. “Guess you’ve got me there. You’re really not mad?”

Nancy shakes her head. “No. I want you to be happy, no matter what.”

“Thank you,” he whispers.

She stands up and pulls him into a hug. “You’re welcome. And I’m not saying jump immediately into a relationship, but don’t hold back because of me. If it happens, let it happen.”

“I will. The same goes for me, if you find yourself starting to like someone again.”

“I definitely will be taking a break from dating for a while, but thanks.” She smiles at him, letting the room fall to silence. “I think I’m going to head out. Robin sort of promised me ice cream if this went the way that it did.”

Jonathan laughs. “Argyle offered me an emotional support pizza.”

Nancy snorts. “I’ll see myself out. Thank you for taking this the way that you did. I’m glad we can still be friends.”

“Me too, Nance.” 

She gives him a small wave before heading downstairs. He waits for the front door to close before shutting his bedroom door, leaning against it with a long groan. Pulling his phone out of his pocket, he clicks his chat with Argyle. 

Jonathan: She just left, I’ll take that emotional support pizza now

Argyle: Coming right up

Argyle: Is there anything else that you want

Jonathan smiles at his screen, a warm feeling spreading through his chest. 

Jonathan: No, just some company and pizza

Argyle: Alright dude, be there in 20

. . . 

Nancy shuts her car door and leans her head against the steering wheel. She wills the tears to stay in her eyes. It went how she wanted it to, so she should be happy. But there is a part of her that is still sad that she lost this little bit with him. Then another part of her is happy that he’s found someone else and it’s fighting with the part of her that feels like she should be angry. 

Taking a deep breath, she pulls out her phone. 

Nancy: Are you free, I could really take that ice cream right now

Robin: I’m getting the toppings out right now

Robin: Come over whenever you’re ready

Nancy: Thank you

Nancy: You’re literally the best

Robin: I know