#how do i talk about it without sounding like an absolute fool | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

hotheadedhero · 5 months

Note

Ok question how would the tmnt bros (all 4) react to someone having a crush on them, and they confess, but the turtle rejects at time... but later on he realizes no wait I actually do like them!

But theres already been like a good month or more since the confession and their crush has been sorta avoiding them by hanging out with the other turtle bros and though still being polite, they avoid like being alone with their turtle crush and try to act like they don't have a crush still(but they do)

Sorry if I didn't write the request right! and thanks for your writing I love how you write the turtles!

Frothing at the mouth. No words. Speechless. Thank you so much anon! This request is absolutely amazing and tugged at my heart in all the good ways, you beauty. So glad you like my writing tyty <3 Apologies for the wait btw :] I might have meddled with the idea a bit depending on the turtle but I hope this is the kind of thing you were hoping for! May even make a part 2 continuation because there was just so much to write, this was really a lot of fun so thank you again :P I let fate decide which version to base this on and we got Bayverse!

Rejection, Realisation, and Regret

Warnings: bad language, grovelling turtles for their idiocy, angst with this in mind, oh these boys are some real idiots

Bay Turtles x Reader

Leonardo

Turns you down as gently as he can but it still feels like a sucker punch to the gut. It may sound calloused but he's a ninja, a mutant, a protector before anything else and that includes being someone's boyfriend. With a constructive discussion on the matter, he can only hope that you understand his position. You assured him that you did.

So, then, how is it that he barely gets a conversation in with you these days? And why does that fact burn a hole in his stomach? This pit, although metaphorical, weighs down heavily on him. Assumably, he’s missing one-on-one with a friend until it truly occurs to him just what exactly is going on. There's a lesson to be learned here, he's sure - a saying that goes around as if taken from an ancient script: you don't realise how good you have it until it's gone. You're not gone perse but you make a point of avoiding him individually. As well-mannered as you try to be, he's noticed and he's noticed the hurt in his belly that comes alongside it.

He thought things were okay, that despite the rejection, you would still be able to comfortably continue your friendship without any issues. It seems he managed even to fool himself. Being so caught up in what it means to be one of New York's self-acclaimed protectors, he was completely absentminded to the feelings that had been bubbling up inside him all along. No wonder he's been losing focus on his training as of late. He has attempted to try and talk to you about it but to no avail. Has your heart really been that broken?

For once, he doesn’t know what to do, or what decision should be made. He’s stuck between a rock and a hard place right now. Who's the one person he can turn to at a time like this? Come on. Who else would it be?

"Sensei, you know better than anyone that our position comes with complications. That we as ninjas are sworn to certain oaths.”

"Yes, the duty of yourself and your brothers is indeed a heavy burden. Responsibility comes with risk and consequence as I am sure you are well aware of by now.” Splinter watches his son bow down as he thoughtfully strokes his beard. "However, sensei, rat, master; alongside all of these things, I am foremost a father who wishes to see his sons be happy. You're in love, are you not?"

Leo’s attention quickly turns up from the floor to his master. How had he figured it out? Must be that parental instinct. Either way, he’s thankful for that in some respect. It makes this easier. Less complicated.

The turtle nods and breathes out, "I am, Sensei."

"That's what I thought." His father lays a hand over Leo’s shoulder before it taps him against the side of his head. "Now, what are you waiting for? Talking to me isn't going to change the situation."

Splinter is right. It's high time for him to get out of his funk and strategise the best way to make amends. He can only hope he isn’t too late.

Raphael

Rejects you thinking it was some sick prank curated by his youngest brother or something. There's no way you have a thing for him. He's a mutant and you're a human. How could someone actually be in love with a freak like himself? That's why he blows up in your face when you attempt to pour your heart out to him. Whatever joke you thought would be funny, isn't.

He may have taken things out of proportion. This much is made obvious enough by the poorly thought-out excuses you make just to avoid being alone with him. Yeah, that's right, he thinks. You should feel ashamed for trying to pull a stupid stunt like that, for trying to mess with him. He's standing firm on his self-assurance. Don't think for a second that he's going to lose sleep over what he said that day.

However, life has a very funny way of playing its own game. It all comes to fruition when you're laughing with the leader of the brothers. When your hand landed on his forearm, Raphael was struck with something fierce. The shot of jealousy to his heart almost takes him for a wild spin but he disregards it for typical Leo/Raph rivalry. Until that night, anyway. This man is tossing and turning in bed, ruminating on that sickly feeling in his chest; losing sleep over it. No. Surely not. He isn't in love with you. This isn't something that's been in the making for however long now. So what if you managed to calm him down quicker than anyone else he's ever known? Big whoop if you used to make a point of checking up on him when no one dared to go near him. It’s no big deal that you’d hype him up and cheer him on before each mission.

Fuck. He's been in love with you this whole time, hasn't he? Oh, you have got to be kidding. This was probably the only chance he had at something close to normal in his life and he trampled over it like it was nothing. That's assuming it was even genuinely meant from your end to begin with. He still has his doubts all things considered. Either way, he can’t just sit in bed and wallow in his head all night. He needs some air.

"What crawled up your shell and died?"

Great. He had hoped to get some peace and quiet. Not that this city knows the definition of either word but that isn’t the point.

"Not now, Jones. I ain't in the mood."

Casey's head rolls against his shoulders and he sighs, "Hey, if this is to do with (Y/n) ignoring you, what do you expect? 'Can't just make someone cry and expect things to be okay after without an apology."

Raph's mask slowly descends and hoods over his eyes, those of which are now staring down the detective.

"Oh, shit. You didn't know?"

No. No, he did not. He really made you cry? Why would you-? Ah. Two things smack him up the head at this moment: you meant every word of what you admitted a month ago and he is an absolute asshole. Despite already living in the sewers, he feels like the scum of the Earth.

That's it. No more holding back. No more being chicken. He might have ruined his chance but he can at least try and make things right by you.

Donatello

Aloof. Absolutely aloof and utterly clueless to the fact that you were even trying to admit your feelings for him. Yet, the way that the whole situation plays out makes it seem as though he had denied you. His head is usually stuck in a book or on one of the many screens that litter his quarters. What can you really expect of him? Unfortunately, this isn’t something that comes to mind nor is taken into consideration when you attempt your casual proclamation. With his eyes glued to his computer, his inattentiveness could only be read as uninterest to which you find it’s probably best to withdraw yourself.

In the weeks to come, it still doesn't even occur to him that you were confessing. The only thing that dawns on him from your weirdly abrupt absence is how strange it feels without you around. You still engage in your regular visits to the lair but are always elusive to his corner. Had he missed a memo? He can't quite place a finger on your change in behaviour. Then he realises just how much he enjoys and misses your presence. Even just how you'd pass by his little section of the lair and do something as small as asking him what he's working on. The small details should always get their chance in the spotlight but he managed to miss them when they were right there in front of him. When you were in front of him.

Subsequent to this steady progression of fluttering heart palpitations upon the thought of you and his drying throat when he tries to speak your way, he decides to take some action. At least, that’s the plan he has in his head. You hardly look his way, so he needs to find a way to gain your attention. There must be some way. With somewhat of an idea in mind, he dials a number through his computer and lets it ring.

The other side of the line picks up and there’s a voice. “If this has anything to do with goons, aliens or whatever trouble you guys have gotten yourselves into, I don’t want any part of it.”

“Relax, Vern. This is something that entirely requires your expertise without life endangerment. I need to ask about women,” Donnie confirms, cutting right to the chase.

There’s a pause. "What-?” Another longer pause and then an inhale. “Can't you just ask one of your brothers or something?"

Yeah, right, because his family of sewer dwellers are so well-equipped for this matter. Even asking for Vern's aid is pushing the boat a little but it's better than nothing - a baseline structure of what to expect is all he needs. The internet would probably be more reliable but it doesn’t include that vital real-world experience.

"You engage in frequent courting. By all accounts, you're the only person I know who has enough field experience to give advice."

This might be giving Vern too much credit but this is a surefire way to get what he wants. Feeding a man's ego can accomplish many things. Call it manipulation of the circumstances if you will but no harm done.

"You know what?” There’s a brightness in his tone, an uptilted cadence in Vern’s rhetorical question. Bingo. “You being the smart one has never been more accurate, Don. Alright, I'll help you."

The notes he takes are unfathomable but he wants to make sure that everything is thought out with careful precision. That's not even taking into account that he needs to muster the courage to ask you out in the first place.

Michelangelo

One would think that this guy would be jumping with unparalleled joy to have someone confess their feelings for him but he's got eyes for someone else. April O'Neil is his one true babycake, his angel face, the first love he had ever known. He turns you down in the friendly way one would expect him to if not a little cocky. Who wouldn't want a piece of the MC Mikey? There aren’t any hard feelings though, right?

Well, no but the sting that follows is still too much for you to handle. Too much in fact that you decide it's best to recoil into a shell of your own and spend less time with the loveable terrapin. Such a shame as well considering you're missing out on your regular gaming sessions together. It probably sucks big time to be rejected but he meant no harm by it. He thought you could still hang out as you normally would. Perhaps you just needed some time. That’s what he reckoned until the days turned to weeks and those weeks to almost two months.

He’s subjected to playing bystander when you hang out with his family, barely getting a chance to have a word with you alone. If this treatment is good for anything, it gives him a chance to spectate and watch how you interact with those around you rather than directly with him. He recognises how much he adores that sparkle in your eyes, the playfulness of your tone when you crack out jokes with his brothers, how you light up the entire lair when you make your presence known. There is this unshakable spirit within you that he somehow never noticed until a few days prior when you took the liberty of playing an incredibly bold practical joke at Casey's expense. Man, this turtle's heart sored higher than it ever has before, which is saying something considering he had to jump out of a plane once.

Well, colour him surprised. He was so sure of himself that New York's favourite journalist was the only one for him but it seems he was wrong. Oh, man. He's feeling pretty bad now. He can surely make up for what happened though, right? Hopefully. There's only one way of finding out but he has one thing he needs to do first before talking to you.

"I'm sorry, angel face. My sights have been led astray. My loyalty shouldn’t be doubted but it’s for someone else now.”

The way Mikey is knelt down, head lowered with April’s hands in his own is a perplexing sight if not curiously amusing. His feelings and the pronounced “dibs” on the reporter have been no secret but his recent infatuation with you hasn’t been much of a secret either. Not to her anyway but she likes to think she’s good at picking up on these things.

“Just know that you'll always have a special place in my heart,” he finishes, ending the overly dramatised display by holding a fist to his chest.

"Considerate as always." Her expression is somewhere between humoured and endeared, fighting the shake of her head at how adorably ridiculous this turtle can be. "Thanks, Mikey."

Now that's out of the way, he can go into this with a clear head. Although, the only thing really going into this is going to be all of his heart.

422 notes · View notes

moonyswife · 1 year

Text

I heard a rumor….

from Inez

MASTERLIST

Remus Lupin x Fem!Reader

G: Fluff, jealous, irritable and oblivious Remus.

Warnings: NOT proofread, smoking, written late at night from an insomniac writer.

The dark winter sky was the only visible thing from the gryffindor common room, as the cold chased everybody inside, four best friends sprawled across cushions in front of the fireplace , trying desperately to get homework done, at least Remus was, his friends way to gossipy to get anything done, he has had enough of his friends fooling around, it seemed as if the world was ganging up on him, his friends were being annoying, homework was harder than ever, the full moon’s tomorrow, and you were out with some boy, at least that what was heard from some hufflepuff girl called Inez.

Huffing and groaning he got up, “What’s wrong, moons? Don’t you like that your girl may be snogging another boy?” Sirius laughs while mockingly pouting, James laughs, too loudly for Remus’s liking, still gathering his things “What’s wrong, pads? Can’t find anyone who likes you for more than just shagging?” Remus’s venomous tone surprised him even, James didn’t laugh, they just sat in awkward silence, it wasn’t strange for Remus to become more irritable as the full moon was incoming, that was somewhat understandable, they’re friends, they’ll put up with him and his attitude, but something else set him up this time, so they just let him leave.

Good, he needed to take a breather.

As Remus furiously left the common room, his mind was running, between his classes and his overbearing hidden need to overachieve, the way the full moon’s closing in, how his condition will always outrun him, the way his friends one day will get fed up with him, he’s too much anyways, his breath was staggering, he needed air, he needed to get out, but no matter where he’ll go, he knows he’s a liability.

The astronomy tower seemed like the perfect place for him to settle down, he walked in only to find out someone beat him to it, you were there, his heart did a flip and threatened with jumping out his mouth.

as he was about to leave you alone, you looked up, eyes meeting, Remus felt like fainting, all his emotional buildup was still persistent, but butterflies swarmed his stomach, “hi, Rem” “hi, y/n” “what’re you doing up here?” you asked eyes filled with curiosity, “Could ask you the same” he felt comfortable enough to sit down next to you, “I asked you first” fair enough. “Just needed a little bit of air, take a walk, this is the closest that I can get to the outside without freezing” he found himself letting out a long breath, “tough day?” “tough week, tough year, tough life apparently” she laughed, Merlin, her laugh, the ways her face looks when she does, absolutely beautiful, breathtaking.

they sat in comfortable silence, looking at the stars, hands nearly touching but neither of them was brave enough, Remus cleared his throat ready to break the silence “I heard you were going out with a Ravenclaw boy” he couldn’t help sounding bitter, “mmm, really? Who did you hear it from?” hope “Inez, well, Sirius, but he heard it from her in herbology, so it was just a rumor?” “Inez is so noisy, kind, but so annoying sometimes” she kept quiet, Remus didn’t push her to speak, “well, yeah, a ravenclaw boy sent me a note asking me out in charms, I said yes to not embarrass him in front of his friends, but afterwards I told him I couldn’t go out with him” a blush crept into her cheeks as she talked, Remus sweared that every time he looked at her he fell even harder, “why did you tell him you couldn’t?” Remus felt nosier than Inez and his friends, but he needed to know, “well…” she went shy all of a sudden, sigh “well ‘cause I like someone else, like a lot and I felt bad playing with his feelings”

Remus felt like throwing up, she likes another boy, all hopes are dead, as dead as he wishes he was, “you ok?” her sweet voice was music to his ear, “yeah, ‘m fine” “are you sure” “yeah, well, I should go, the guys are probably wondering where I am” bullshit, he needed to scream, to punch someone hopefully the guy she likes, as he was getting up she grabbed his hand, “please stay a little longer” she asked with teary eyes, “love, what’s wrong?” the pet name rolling of his tongue like a promise, “nothing just, I don’t want to be alone, but I don’t want to talk either, just… sit there, with me” her big eyes following her mouth pleading for him to stay and who was he to say no. He nodded sitting back down, putting his hand in her back, rubbing as she sobbed.

“It’s just, the boy I like” sob “probably doesn’t like me back” she takes a breath “ I like him a lot and he barely pays attention to me, always running out of a room when I enter” she was describing the dumbest guy Remus would ever know, “it’s ok, doll, he’s dumb, you’re the best that there is, a lot of boys are dying to be with you” me, I’m here, I want to be with you, I love you. that’s all he wanted to say, but she’s down and sad, he wouldn’t take advantage, and he doesn’t know why his words make her cry harder, “I’m sorry, I don’t know what I did wrong” with her head in her hands she mumbled something incoherent, “what?” she gets up suddenly, “sorry, that was dumb, sorry for bothering you, rem, you’re a good guy, sorry again” she ran out so fast Remus could barely hear her last words.

Full of worry he went back to his common room, decided to not do his homework, he’ll blame it in the full moon, and as he laid down in his bed all he could think of was you, and breaking the nose of the guy that made you cry that way.

Laying in your bed the events of today replaying in your head, what else could’ve went wrong?

A nice guy asked you out, that’s great if you weren’t stupidly in love with your friend Remus Lupin, you got shy in front of his friends awaiting for your answer, so you said yes forgetting the fact that rumors travel fast at Hogwarts, especially with the noisy duo on Sirius and Inez.

All your friends went crazy, asking if you were finally over your silly crush, if you were really going out with another boy, wondering when and what’ll happen or what you’ll wear, you tried to tell them that in the end you turned him down, but to no avail, they wouldn’t listen, so like outside was freezing, you figured that the astronomy tower was the safest option of a santuary, before you could cry your eyes out, to add insult to injury, Remus Lupin seemed to think the same thoughts as you.

Everything would’ve been better if you had stuck to your comfortable silence, but nooo, he had to ask questions, how can he be so oblivious, that he was the guy, that you like him, you’ve kept sending him signals since two years ago during third year, and every time you try to stop and get over him, he sends a small signal that maybe, hopefully, he feels the same, some hidden glances, small touches, meaningful smiles, all of this could be part of your friendship, but there’s something about them, just something that gives your heart hope, or maybe you’re delusional.

You ended up falling asleep on you wet pillow with tear stained cheeks.

03:17 AM

y/n woke up, she needed a air, she needed Remus, she needed sleep, she needed a smoke.

She settled for the cigarette solution, but she couldn’t open a window in her room without waking her roommates up. Walking down the stairs of the girls rooms to the common room she saw that a particular sandy haired boy has had again her same thoughts, but alas, this time he beat her to do it.

Blowing the cigarette smoke out the window Remus spotted her, with messy hair, mismatched socks, plaid red pants, a t shirt four times her size that looked like it belonged to a granpa, and looking as beautiful and gorgeous as ever, “hey, are you feeling better?” Rem whispered, scared someone could hear and ruin their peace, “hi, yes, I’m a bit better now, care to share? Just want a bit not the whole thing” ignoring the urge to run away, she decided that enough was enough, so what if he didn’t like her, he’s her friend, she’s not going to throw it out of the window because of her ego. “Yeah, sure,” Remus extended his arm to pass her the cig, hypnotized as she put it between her perfect lips took a drag, inhaled, watching her whole face take it in, eyes closed, eyebrows slightly furrowed, just the perfect sight, he also noticed her puffy red eyes and swollen lips, also the tip of her nose was a bit red, she’s been crying.

Smoking in silence, but compared to before, it was a bit awkward, “the guy, the one you like, who’s he?” She sighed “why do you want to know, Rem?” “To beat them up, I can tell you’ve been crying all night, that’s no good” y/n was getting fed up “are you really that oblivious, Remus Lupin?” wow first and last name, Remus knew she was mad, why? he had no idea, “what? What’s wrong?” she looked at him and god, how can he look so handsome and pretty and cute while being the biggest idiot known to mankind, “what’s wrong is that I can’t tell you the truth, it’s embarrassing” now he was even more confused “what? Wait you can tell me, you know I’ll never judge you” she put out the cigarette and looked at him then took a deep breath, “ well, the guy that I like, he’s my friend and I like him since forever, but since third year I’ve started sending him signals, like the I like you signals, but either he doesn’t like me like that or he’s very oblivious” Remus’s heart broke even more if that’s possible, maybe you liked James or Frank or Sirius that’d make everything worse, as she saw the gears working in his mind, she knew he wouldn’t get it “you know what’s worse” “what, love” the love made her want to tear her neck out, “he’s the smartest person I know, but when it comes to this, he apparently can’t put two an two together”

Remus’s mind was working harder than ever, which one of his friends was smart? “Oh” realization hit him, butterflies swarmed his stomach, was he dreaming, was she talking about him, “oh, indeed, I’m talking about you, Remus, all these years it’s been you”.

Remus Lupin fell to his knees.

“Are you serious, you like me?” “Don’t be mean, Rem, please don’t laugh at me.” “ love, I’m not laughing” he wasn’t but he was smiling like a fool, she was about to cry again, here she was confessing to him, and there he was laughing, “I’ve loved you ever since I saw you on the train, at the start of second year, with your braids and your cat, I love you now and I’ll love you forever” she was frozen, all this time he felt the same, she was grinning like an idiot now, falling in front of him bringing her hands to his cheeks caressing them. “Please, can I kiss you, doll?” “Remus, you can kiss me whenever and wherever you want”, his eyes were full of adoration as he leaned in, her hands on the back of his neck creeping up his hair, his hands sneaked into her waist grabbing firmly, he sat down pulling her into his lap, searching for more closeness.

“We’re idiots” she breathed breaking their kiss, “yeah, but we’re idiots in love” he said making their noses touch, once he had her he couldn’t get enough of her, and couldn’t stop kissing her, not that she complained, she felt like heaven was brought upon her when he kissed her, “I kiss can’t kiss believe kiss that kiss we kiss took kiss this kiss much kiss time kiss” “why don’t we take this to the couch, it’ll be more comfy” she said while kissing his neck, “.or we could go to my dorm, the guys are asleep, we can make out all night” all she had to do was nod to be picked up and brought to Remus’s bed.

James, Peter and especially Sirius had a great time in the morning when they found you in the same bed, by lunch Sirius and Inez had already made sure that all that was talked about was yours and Remus’s relationship and you couldn’t be happier to be finally together.

#remus lupin #remus lupin x you #remus x reader #remus lupin x reader #remus fluff #moonyswife

997 notes · View notes

noemilivv · 7 months

Text

What the

HAZBIN HOTEL CAST

are like as …

PARTNERS !! (And before that!) (Pt. 2)

Also before I get into this, I would just like to say THANK YOU SO MUCH for the immense amount of love I got on the first part of this!! I would’ve never thought I would’ve gotten so much love so quickly, so thanks a bunch for every like or reblog, they mean the world :)

Including: Vox, Velvette, Rosie, Cherri

Warnings: Sexual references (no smut), swear words, possible spoilers to S1

Vox

Crush!Vox had a crush on you before he even met you lmfao

You were a performer, a performer he really wanted to market, and he spent so much time gawking over you and that opportunity before he even met you

But once Crush!Vox got the opportunity to work for you and officially meet you, he was stoked, but don’t let that fool you, he kept his cool…on the outside

And, still, he spent more time gawking over you…

But now, that time Crush!Vox spent fangirling was now spent in his office. He would have to put so much concentration into not short-circuiting, he would not be able to catch what your saying.

After a few months of working with you, he invites you to a ‘business dinner.’

Yeah… ‘business dinner’ turns into fucking…

It took a few weeks after for Crush/Situationship!Vox to turn into BF!Vox, and to be honest, he isn’t sure where to start…

Sure, BF!Vox has fucked around quite a bit, but honestly… he’s never been in an actual relationship with a label, it’s a bit of a heavy weight and he’s scared to do it, but that doesn’t mean he won’t.

His love language is definitely physical touch and acts of service, he’s not great with his words, he actually sounds like a dick in most sentences that fly out of his mouth, so actions are the only way he knows how.

BF!Vox fucks up his words a lot when he isn’t using his business persona, because he’s not used to talking like that, he genuinely has to keep a mental checklist to make sure he doesn’t fuck up his words — especially if you’re upset.

BF!Vox tries to show it through actions (in more ways than one) instead, whether it be a hug while your upset, doing an extra bit of your work if you’re having a rough week so you don’t have to worry about it, physical intimacy, the list goes on.

Overall, he may not be all he’s built up to be, but he genuinely has so much love for you, he just wishes he could tell you.

Velvette

Crush!Velvette is the kinda girl to absolutely stalk your ass when she likes you (not actually), whether it be checking your location every five minutes, digging into your social media pages (especially with the help of Vox), and so much more.

Crush!Velvette decides to DM you about a potential ‘business offer’ (gotta keep the name clean, yk?) to start out, and you guys meet for lunch to discuss it, yeah uh.. turns out you guys hit it the fuck off immediately!

Once you and Crush!Velvette really get close, you grow close to the other Vee’s too, sorta making you and honorary Vee member.

Your off with Vox and Val, and Val’s bitching about god knows what, until he slips about Velvette’s feelings for you.

“Oh yeah, fuckin’ Velvette is just SO into you now, like excuse me bitch?! What the fuck am I to you if you think so HIGHLY of THAT? No offense… But anywa-” Val rants off as you three cruise the street, without Velvette’s presence.

“VAL.” Vox glitched, cutting off Val mid-rant, gesturing to you beside him, before Valentino mutters a “Shit.” under his breath.

Yeah… Velvette found out, and she was livid, but only for a short period because she got sidetracked when she found out you felt the same.

Now GF!Velvette LOVES spoiling you, she’s also constantly getting you business opportunities with either her or one of the boys, tailoring you custom outfits no one else has, spending a shit ton of cash on you, she’s basically a sugar mommy…

GF!Velvette’s love language is gift giving. She could for sure spend several hours at the mall picking out gifts for you, from all different ends of the extreme, one day she’ll come home with a small, cheap trinket from HellMart that was stupid but nonetheless reminded her of you, and the next day she’ll come home with some expensive ass designer clothes and bag.

GF!Velvette thrives off of princess treatment, especially because of how she was treated with the Vee’s before your relationship, so she kinda expects it cause then she feels kinda empty inside without it, and she can get a bit bratty about it, but baby girl means well💕

Rosie

Crush!Rosie notices right away, and she’s pretty smart about it. She spends time with you, but not too much. She’s nice to you, but she pulls back to tease slightly. She gives you a taste of what life would be like with her, but not a big enough taste so your left wanting to know whats next.

Crush!Rosie catches onto the fact that you just might feel the same way, so she decides to just suck it up and ask.

After realizing you two feel the same about each other, you share a lovely conversation over tea about what you two want out of this, communication is very important to Rosie so she thinks if she gives it to you, you’ll give it right back, right?

You two decide, yeah, a relationship would be cool, and GF!Rosie is through the roof!

GF!Rosie is a very open and honest gf, communication is very important to her, it’s one of her top things she expects out of a partner, she tries her best to have an open mind when it comes to her partner, even if you two have a problem, and she expects the same from you — She’s very vocal in a civil way about her feelings and expectations — but don’t let that scare you, she’s a sweetie!

GF!Rosie’s love language is quality time and words of affirmation! Rosie doesn’t expect anything extravagant, (although it is nice, and she surely doesn’t mind it), but being with you is simply enough— and as stated before, she’s not afraid to speak her mind around her partner, so she thinks you look good? She’s gonna say it. She thinks you’re amazing? She’s gonna say it. That’s just how she is, and she hopes you can get used to it because she’s sure as hell comfortable with you.

Cherri

Crush!Cherri will be completely oblivious to the fact that you like her, it could be right in front of her face, and she’d have absolutely no idea. Unless you flat out suck her face off, she’ll have no clue. Which kinda stops her from confessing for awhile.

But after having a talk with Angel, she decides to go for it.

“Cherri, you’re telling me your a badass hoe, who can chuck bombs like it’s nothin’, but you can’t tell someone you wanna bang?” Angel goes off to Cherri as they watch the romcom on the TV infront of them.

She thinks for a moment. “Huh. Yeah. You’re right. I’m gonna tell them!” Cherri announces, marching off,

“Wait now?! Yous leaving me ‘n Fat Nuggets alone!?”

And then, you get a knock on your door at 1am, and it’s Crush!Cherri, with bed head and peejays, going on and on, you didn’t understand a lot of it, you were fucking tired! But bottom line is, you got out ‘We should date’ and you did not pass that opportunity.

GF!Cherri tries to push you out of your comfort zone, and sometimes that leads to accidentally pressuring you, she won’t know unless you tell her (again, not the most aware person), but if you do she ends up feeling really bad, but she’s glad she knows now!

GF!Cherri’s love language is so quality time, it doesn’t matter if you guys are shooting bitches or cuddling on the couch or fucking, as long as she’s with YOU, she could care less

She may not be the best girlfriend ever, but as long as you stick by her side, she’s content.

396 notes · View notes

forever-rogue · 1 year

Note

So I have this idea for a peter x reader. basically reader is really quiet and shes friends with Peter. anyway, she develops feeling for him but doubts that he'll ever feel the same and tries to hide it as much as possible. eventually when Peter tells her his feelings she laughs and thinks it's a joke like "how would u like me?" and Peter slows down sadly and is like "why would u think I'm joking?" and ends with just fluffy fluffy confessions and comfort <3

AN | Oh yes, one of my favorite tropes, aka Peter Parker confesses his love but you’re not buying it❤️

Pairing | tasm!Peter Parker x Fem!Reader

Warnings | Language

Word Count | 3k

Masterlist | Main | Peter

─── ･｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

You’d known Peter Parker for the latter part of twenty years.

You’d known that you were in love with him for the last five years. You were pretty sure you’d been in love with him much longer than that, but realization hadn’t dawned on you just yet.

The revelation had come to you out of the blue one evening when you were at home in your shared apartment, the two of you watching a movie. He didn’t even really do anything special, it just hit as you listened to him comment on random scenes throughout the movie. You were in love with him.

But just as quickly as you had your breakthrough, you decided to push it to the side, compartmentalized to the back of your mind to decay there. You might have been helplessly in love with him, enamored and enraptured by him, but you would never tell him.

There was absolutely no way that Peter would ever return your feelings, not even remotely. No, nope, nah. You were his best friend, and that’s all you would ever be. That was your destiny, and while you hated it, you hated the idea of a life without Peter even more.

So, like some kind of self professed martyr, you decided to live with your secret.

─── ･｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

“Are you even paying attention?” you weren’t, not until Peter was waving his hand in front of your face, but he didn’t need to know that. You turned your attention back to him and gave him a tight lipped smile and even weaker nod. He laughed, sugar sweet and syrupy, “you’re lying!”

“Am not,” you huffed petulantly, poking around the food that was on your plate. Admittedly you’d lost your appetite and zoned out when Peter started talking about Kim from work and how she’d asked him out again. He insisted that he’d turned her down, again, but it didn’t cause that nagging feeling in the pit of your stomach to go away, “I couldn’t listen to another word out of your mouth, Parker. The sound alone could put me right to sleep.”

“Oh honey,” he took a sip of his drink, leaning back in his chair as he appraised you. You felt warm under his intent gaze, avoiding his eyes as you practically stared holes into the table, “we both know that’s not true.”

“How?” you snapped your gaze back to him, and found the most satisfied little smirk on his face.

“You wouldn’t have been friends with me for so long if you really thought that,” he leaned forward and shot you a wink, which caused you to almost melt into a puddle, “right?”

“You’re the worst,” there was nothing but an affectionate lilt in your words, “the absolute worst.”

“But you love me,” you knew it was meant as a friendly comment but you felt like your heart had just plummeted into your stomach. Did he know? He couldn’t know.

“Whatever,” you took the cloth napkin off your lap and tossed onto the table. You were out at a nice restaurant, both of you dressed to the nines; it would have been easy to assume you were a couple on a date. The waiter had made a comment about what a lovely couple you were, “hurry up so we can get out of here and get home.”

Home. As in your singular home. That’s right; not only were you a fool, you were an absolute fool. One that lived with her best friend that she was secretly in love with. It made things…interesting. But, if anything, it was a good exercise in futility.

“Pajamas and ice cream?” he asked, as if it was really any question. At least one night a week included a lazy night in watching movies in pajamas and lots of ice cream. You loved that you were able to enjoy such simple things, along with the finer things.

“Duh,” you teased, “now come on, before someone mistakes for a couple again.”

“Would that really be such a bad thing?” there was a look of genuine curiosity in his eyes that almost made you spill your deep, dark secret then and there.

“Yes,” you lied, biting the inside of your cheek, “the worst!”

Peter said nothing but you could feel him watching you. You were afraid that somehow he would learn all your deepest, darkest secrets.

You hoped he wouldn’t…you weren’t sure how you’d survive that.

─── ･｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

When you woke up the next morning, it was to something that smelled extremely delicious. You groaned as you rolled onto your back, rubbing the last of the sleep from your eyes, stomach gurgling loudly. You slipped out of bed and pulled on a discarded hoodie - it used to be Peter’s but was now yours - and socks as you padded out into the hallway.

Noise was coming from the kitchen and your brow furrowed as you walked towards the commotion. Peter’s bedroom door was open which meant that it was definitely him that was the source of all the commotion. Odd. He was usually not an early riser.

“Pete?” a large vase of daffodils, tulips, and daisies sat on the small kitchen table. Your favorites. The boy was in the kitchen, in a t-shirt and gray joggers (damn him), and moved around to make sure everything was ready at the same time, “what’s all this?”

“Hey babe,” the pet name flowed from his lips like it was a no brainer, like this was all so natural between the two of you. You supposed, in a way, it was, “I’m making breakfast.”

“I can see that,” you raised an eyebrow and gestured around, “what’s the occasion?”

“Nothing,” he shrugged lightly, “just wanted to do something nice for you.”

“Peter, that’s…really sweet,” yeah. You weren’t even going to attempt to deny that much, “it looks and smells delicious. And the flowers-”

“Also for you,” this time a sheepish expression crossed his features along with a pretty pink blush, “I just thought you deserved something nice.”

“Is there…it’s not my birthday,” you mused out loud, “it’s not a holiday. So…am I missing something?”

“No,” he considered you for a moment before swallowing thickly, “I just…let me do something nice without the whole interrogation thing!”

“You’re Spider-Man, you should be used to interrogations.”

“Not from you!”

“Well, consider it practice.”

“No, listen, I-” he groaned lightly, swiping a hand over his face, messing up his already roguish hair, “I-I-I-”

“You can’t get all flustered!” you teased, “can’t let the enemy know you’re weak!”

“I’m not-”

“Petey,” you laughed softly, enjoying the little back and forth banter, “I’m just teasing. No need to get so worked up. Look, I’m going to go-”

“I’m in love with you.”

“And shower before breakfast,” the two of you spoke at the same time, but you heard each other loud and clear. You opened and closed your mouth a few times, feeling the heat rise up in your cheeks, flustered and wanting to disappear, “w-why would you say that?”

“What?” he looked confused. Your heart felt like it was about to burst out of your chest, “what do you mean?”

“I was just teasing you, but you don’t have to be cruel,” you felt tears already welling up as your lip trembled with effort to keep from crying, “why would you be so mean?”

“How? I don’t…what?”

“Why would you tease me and say you loved me?” despite your best efforts the tears had welled up and rolled down your face, “I was just messing around, but that’s…hurtful.”

“Wait - what do you mean?” a look of pure panic crossed his features as he shook his head, “why would I just say that? I would never say something like that if I didn’t mean it. Honey-”

“You don’t love me,” you threw up your hands in exasperation, “not like that. You’re my best friend!”

“You’re my best friend too,” he took a step closer and you took one back, “and I do love you as you my best, but you’re so much more than that. I’m in love with you.”

“You’re lying,” you insisted, unable to wrap your head around the fact that he might be telling the truth, “why would you be in love with me? I’m just…me.”

“That’s why I’m in love with you!” he wasn’t sure what your reaction was going to be, but he wasn’t fully expecting this one, “I’ve been in love with you for years! Have you really never noticed?”

“You’re just being a good friend,” were asking him or telling him? You weren’t entirely sure, “you don’t love me! You could never love me. I’m nothing.”

“You’re everything,” but you weren’t listening to him anymore. You were shaking your head, absentmindedly brushing your tears out of your face as you stumbled towards your bedroom.

“No, please just stop,” you insisted. You ducked into your bedroom and slammed the door shut before locking it. Realistically, if he really wanted to get in it would have been a breeze for him.

He called your name a few more times before you heard his retreating footsteps go back to the kitchen. All you could think to do was to climb into bed and get under the covers. Dealing with anything - what he had said and what you had said - seemed like the last thing you wanted to think about.

─── ･｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

At some point you woke up from the stress and sadness nap you had taken and found that the sun was shining brightly into the room. You looked at your phone with a groan when you saw that it was the middle of the afternoon.

Hesitantly you dragged yourself out of bed, again, and slinked towards the door, sticking your ear to it and listening for any signs of life, also known as Peter Benjamin Parker. This would be one of the times it would have been handy to have his enhanced senses, but even with your regular old human abilities, you were sure he wasn’t home.

With a sigh of relief you opened the door and walked back into the crime scene; the kitchen looked exactly as it had when you’d found Peter in it earlier. He must have left to give you space after your little - okay big - freak out. He’d always been good with boundaries and giving you space when needed.

Part of you almost wished he was here. The flowers on the table were almost taunting you, and you walked over to them, gently touching over their petals. Of course he knew your favorite flowers, he got them for you…kind of a lot now that you were thinking about it. He knew you inside out, better than anyone else, and sometimes you were convinced that he knew you better than you knew yourself.

You stepped into the kitchen and started to clean things up, putting dishes in the sink and other stuff away. The thought that Peter had touched each and everyone of these things provided a sense of relief.

Peter often did these sorts of things. He doted on you, you would absolutely admit this, but you’d always chalked it up to his friendly nature. But then…he wasn’t like this with his other friends. He was openly affectionate, yes, but with you it was different. You thought about the fact that he never went on dates with anyone - he would always turn them down, including Kim from work. The few times you’d gone on a date he always seemed upset, even if he tried to suggest otherwise. Huh.

People often asked if the two of you were dating, but you always gave them the same answer: platonic friends with a capital P. It sucked sometimes, especially when you knew that women, and men, practically threw themselves at Peter.

You thought back on all the things he did for you, all the days, nights, and weekends you’d spent together through the years and oh. Oh.

“Oh,” you whispered the singular word out loud to yourself, halfway through washing a plate when it hit you.

Peter hadn’t been lying; he was telling you the truth. The truth had been so obvious and right in front of you the entire time.

You wanted to curl up and vanish. Not only had you accused him of lying and only loving you as a friend, you’d run out on him and refused to talk to him like a stubborn child. All you could do was hope that you hadn’t ruined everything.

When you were finished cleaning up the mess from earlier, you made a mental plan. Maybe he wouldn’t believe you or forgive you, but it was worth a shot like a sort of romantic hail mary.

─── ･｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

Peter spent the better part of the day out of the apartment, opting to go and work in his office. His mind was reeling and the only way he could think to get it to quiet down was to throw himself into his work. He hoped that by the time he got home you would be willing to talk to him, or at the very least you wouldn’t run from him.

Needless to say, he wasn’t expecting you to be in the kitchen making dinner as you sang along to whatever record you threw on the vintage player. You’d gifted it to him a few years ago on his birthday after you’d seen him eyeing it about a hundred times. It was just one of the many ways you showed him love. He’d fallen even more in love that day.

“Hello?” he asked timidly as he kicked off his sneakers by the door. On the table next to the flowers he’d gotten for you, was another vase, this one filled with daisies and sunflowers; his favorites…because they reminded him of you.

At the sound of his voice you slowly turned around, bracing yourself for about a million different possibilities.

“Hi Pete,” you held up your hands in a meek little wave, feeling your flush furiously, “listen-”

“I’m sorry,” the two of you said at the same time.

“W-wait,” a pretty pout settled on your lips. He wanted to kiss you until it went away and was replaced with a smile, “what are you sorry for?”

“For making you uncomfortable,” he shrugged nervously, “I didn’t think what I said would come across so…like it did. I thought you knew, or at least kind of knew, how I felt. I thought maybe you felt the same and it was finally time to tell you. That didn’t land well obviously.”

“Peter,” whenever you said his name like that it made him want to melt into a puddle.

There were a million things you wanted to say, but couldn’t think of anything. Nothing seemed quite adequate or strong enough to convey the amount of love you held for the man in front of you.

You walked the few remaining steps over and stopped right in front of him, both of you staring at each other intensely.

You reached up to touch his face, your hand resting on his cheek. You leaned up and closed the little bit of remaining distance, pressing your lips against his. It only took a moment for his brain to catch up to what was happening, and when he did, his hands settled on your waist, and pulled you ever closer into his body.

Kissing Peter left so natural, so right, like you’d been doing it forever. There was no learning curve - the two of you already know each other so well - no awkward fumbling or misses. It just…was.

And kissing him was addicting. Now that you knew what it was like, you never wanted to stop. You wanted him all over you, all the time, forever.

But eventually you needed a breath of air and reluctantly pulled apart. You found him watching you like you were the most wonderful thing he had ever seen (you were).

“I’ve been in love with you for a very, very long time,” you admitted softly, causing his eyes to lit up, “I just never thought…you’ve always been my best friend and I was convinced you’d never want more. So I never said anything.”

“I’ve always wanted more - I want everything,” he took your face in his hands, cradling it delicately as he studied, “it’s always been you.”

“I thought that I was just me, and I’d never be good enough for you. And then I thought maybe you found out how I felt and you were teasing me,” it seemed really silly saying it out loud.

“I would never do that,” you knew he wouldn’t. Your own self doubt had you convinced of all the wrong things, “I meant it all. I’ve always meant it.”

“I thought about it while you were gone,” it was a soft confession that had you giving him a shy smile, “and I realized it was always so obvious.”

“It’s been terribly obvious,” he agreed as you exchanged soft laughs.

“Terribly,” you agreed, “will you forgive me for how I acted earlier?”

“There’s nothing to forgive,” he insisted, sweet and saccharine, “can I kiss you more?”

“I would-”

Before you could finish what you were saying, you smelt something burning and turned around to find your pain on fire. You panicked while Peter fell into action, taking the pan off and setting it in the sink before getting the fire out. It was just one of the many ways in which you complimented each other perfectly.

“Anyway, you were saying?” He had the biggest, silliest smile on his face as the kitchen filled with the smell of burnt food. You couldn’t help but break into a fit of giggles at the absurdity of it all...and then the smoke alarm went off.

“You can kiss me anytime,” you finally got to say what you had wanted to, shouting slightly over the alarm before the two of you dissolved into laughter, “I love you, Peter Parker. Really.”

“I really love you, honey bee.”

#peter parker #peter parker x reader #peter parker x fem!reader #peter parker x you #andrew garfield #andrew garfield x reader #andrew!peter parker x reader #andrew!peter x reader #tasm!peter parker #tasm!peter parker x you #tasm!peter parker x reader

2K notes · View notes

steveshairychest · 2 years

Text

Eddie gets Steve for the party's secret santa and instead of just going out and buying him a present, Eddie spends the whole month making something personal for him, something to remind Steve that he is absolutely adored by the people around him. He's seen the way Steve dismisses any and all comments from the kids about how awesome he is, he's seen the way Steve curls in on himself whenever he's complimented or praised and it hurts to see.

No matter what they say, Steve doesn't seem to get it through his thick skull that he is the party's centre of gravity. Everyone, including Eddie, finds themselves pulled in by Steve's overwhelming love and care. He is their sun. He drops anything and everything the second he's needed by anyone but if they offer the same to him, he shies away from it, brushes it off and says he can handle it. Eddie can't remember a time where Steve actually willingly accepted his help; he usually has to forcefully grab a grocery bag from Steve to stop him from trying to take them all inside himself.

So, for his present, Eddie decides to make him a book, a book filled with everything the party loves about him and everything they appreciate him doing. It's a big book of love and all that love is for Steve. Some of the kids fill pages and pages of things they love and appreciate about Steve, Dustin draws a whole coloured comic that spreads over 5 pages and some of them just fill one page but that's okay. Eddie and Robin write enough to fill the whole book; they actually have to add more pages to the book because there's no room for anyone else to write after Robin goes full sap mode.

Nancy writes one page but forbids anyone else to read it, says it's only for Steve to see and they respect that. They leave the page next to her's blank so that no one sees it. Eddie's only mildly surprised when Jonathan asks to write in the book. He doesn't write a lot but from his sneaky glances, Eddie can tell Jonathan is extremely grateful for everything Steve's done for the kids.

When it comes time to actually give the gift to Steve, Eddie is extremely nervous. He's scared he's overstepped, that it's going to make Steve uncomfortable. Maybe he should have just gotten him that cute sweater or made him a mixtape.

Eddie opens his gift, it's a custom hellfire guitar pick and new strings; stuff he'd only talked about around Robin. He smiles knowingly at her but she acts the fool, pretends she has no idea who his secret santa was but her giant smile gives her away.

And then Steve is reaching for his present and Eddie feels like he's going to pass out. Everyone's smiling and shoving each other excitedly as Steve tears the wrapping paper off but all Eddie can do is nervously look between the present and Steve, watching for the slightest hint that it's too much, that Steve doesn't like it.

The room is so silent, the only sound is pages turning and Eddie's almost panicked breathing as Steve reads through every single page without looking at anyone in the room. He can't get a read on him, can't figure out if he loves it or hates it and then Steve's crying, his chest heaving as he gently closes the book and covers his face with his hands, tries to hide himself away from everyone. Oh, God he made Steve cry on Christmas. He feels like absolute shit.

"Steve, I'm sorry -" He doesn't get to finish because Steve pulls him into a hug so tight he can barely breathe. He feels Steve's tears soak through his shirt as he cries into Eddie's chest and Eddie can do nothing but hold him and try to read Robin's lips as she tries to communicate something to him from across the room. "Spoiler alert, I was your secret santa, but I can't tell if you hate or like your present. Just tell me straight up, I don't mind." Eddie whispers into his hair as he gently rocks them side to side. The book he made for Steve sits discarded beside them and from this angle, Eddie can see that Steve dog tagged a few of the pages. He'd been too focused on watching Steve's reaction to notice him do it.

Steve sniffs and pulls back, his eyes red and puffy. "I loved it." He moves away from Eddie and sits back in his original spot so that he can see all his friends, see all the people that filled a book with words he never thought he deserved to hear. "I really loved it. Thank you. I especially love the comic where I fight 40 demodogs even though I'm pretty sure it was only like 4." He says this while smiling at Dustin, who puffs his chest out with pride and boasts about being Steve's favourite part of the book.

"I think I wrote a whole novel in there." Robin says while scooting closer to Steve so that she can rest her head on her best friend's shoulder. "Did you even read all of it?"

Steve rests his head against hers and points to the dog tagged page in the book. "I've saved it for later. I didn't want to get snot and tears all over the page."

"Ew, you're disgusting." She shoves at him playfully but Steve catches her arm and pulls her into a hug, a hug that they both relax into, a hug that says a million things no one but them will understand.

Eddie feels like a weight has been lifted off his shoulders now that he knows the present wasn't one big mistake. He doesn't know if Steve read the pages he wrote, doesn't know if Steve will feel the same, doesn't know if confessing his feelings in a secret santa present was the right way to go but he can't bring himself to regret it. Seeing the way Steve pulls all of his friends into a hug and whispers something to all of them, something only meant for that person to hear, brings a warmth to his chest.

He hopes that Steve understands now. He hopes that having all of their love for him in physical form helps him realise that he is more than just a babysitter, more than a human shield, more than a bad ex boyfriend.

And to Eddie, he's more than a friend. He poured his entire heart into that book and he hopes that Steve will handle the pages carefully and that when he's ready, he'll answer the question Eddie wrote on the last page of the book.

'Will you let me love you?'

#RAHH ITS CHRISTMAS IN A WEEK #THIS WASNT MEANT TO BE THIS LONG #CHRISTMASSSS!!!!#steddie #stranger things #eddie munson #steve harrington #st4 vol2 #steveddie #stranger things s4

3K notes · View notes

cheesus-doodles · 10 months

Note

i wonder how izana is like if he had a s/o during the time when he was the black dragon leader

Red Dragonflies Masterlist | Masterlist

‎‎‎

i have actually answered this previously in these Relationship HCs ! and this is also the case in my red dragonflies AU, former gang leader reader is actually Izzy's s/o when he was the black dragon leader - have linked the masterlist up top cough

but because I like to rant, here are some more thoughts about yan black dragon-era Izzy and you, which can apply to both regular reader and gang leader reader!

Izana was probably already very unstable and jealous during his time as the 8th Gen Black Dragon leader, what with the entire situation between Shinichiro constantly talking about Mikey, and learning that the Black Dragon gang would go to said boy instead of him. Combined that with him having found you as an s/o, someone that Izana would see as his, something that he could finally own and keep to himself without having to share (unlike the whole situation with Shinichiro), no doubt that it wouldn't take long for Izana to swing into yandere tendencies, becoming extremely overbearing and overprotective over you.

‎

With you around, there is a very clear difference in Izana's mannerisms and general behavior. Almost a personality flip in fact, it's night and day how he acts in your presence and when you aren't present. After all, there's a certain way that Izana wants you to perceive him as, and then there's everything else - so this white-haired boy would be sure to carefully tailor and adjust how he acts around you to what he knows you like (to a certain degree of course). As long as you don't threaten the status quo, as long as you keep by his side and his side only, your precious Izzy is whoever you want him to be. Loving, kind, doting, he can almost seem to read your mind and predict your moods.

Knows how to make you feel better after a shitty day, knows what to say and what to do to get you falling heads over heels for him over and over. But don't let that fool you into thinking that you were beyond his manipulation, because nope, not a chance. If he even has the slightest doubt that you were drifting away from him, or worse, thinking of leaving him, expect for Izzy to start subtly tearing you down. He wouldn't sound any different from what he usually does, cooing, low, soft murmur, but the things that slip from his mouth; it pokes at your insecurities, stirs the doubts you have about yourself. Yes, you were the most beautiful person he had laid eyes on, but did you think that really extended to everyone? Surely, surely you know that only he can love you like this? You couldn't possibly survive away from his side the way you are, right?

In his mind, Izzy is only doing it because he loved you as much as he did - you were made for him, like he was made for you. He couldn't live without you, so even if he had to hurt you a little, it'll all be worth it. You'll see that it was all for you.

‎‎

Wouldn't be uncommon to see him roaring down streets, both city and mountain ones alike, on his motorbike with you clung to his back and with no specific destination in mind - just likes to spend time with you, brings you anywhere that you want to go. Besides, the delinquents in the city, be they Black Dragons or rival scum, know better than to stare at the two of you. Loves light, airy places, so be prepared to spend a lot of time just hanging out together on rooftops and mountains, somewhere where you can feel the breeze through your hair, where Izzy can get you all to himself. All your attention being on him is the best kind of date.

There's no such thing as privacy, period. He absolutely needs to know everything that happens in your life, and anything less would earn you a full tantrum and fit. Put simply, its either Izana is there, hovering next to you and keeping one violet eye on all your ongoings, and no doubt this baby boy has someone (cough Inupi cough) tagging you from a respectable distance when he isn't free. That is, on top of having unfettered access to everything on your phone; call logs, messages, photos. Nothing is secret from him, why would it be? What do you have to hide from your partner?

You don't go anywhere new without Izzy. Why do you have to? What were you hiding? Your future husband would be happy to take you anywhere you have to go: cafe, the new department store downtown, even festivals. So unless you were trying to hide something from him, why wouldn't you want him to go along? Don't you know how dangerous it is out there? What if you get jumped by a rival gang? Needless to say, keeping presents a secret from this boy isn't a walk in a park.

‎‎

Everything else that Izana doesn't think you would approve of seeing would be done out of your sight. He doesn't like having you see the darker side of your boyfriend, the one that deals with weapons and drugs, the one that beats people, both civilians and his own gang members alike for the mildest of perceived infringements against you. You were too soft, too delicate for that. What if you got scared off? What would he do if you became frightened of him?

Instead, all his rage, all his hatred, he poured into the Black Dragon gang, leading them down darker and darker paths. The entire world was scum as far as he was concerned, trash that he had to beat and flatten into perfection so you didn't have to foul your hands and feet.

Sure Izana couldn't keep Shinichiro to himself as much as he desperately wanted to, the first time he truly found family - the source of a lot of his anger and jealousy. He hated Mikey, and always will, for stealing his older brother. But you were perfection, divinity, and you filled the hole in his heart; you didn't have to see that side of him if you just stuck by his side and returned his love. You were the only thing giving stability to a very fragile Izzy, and god only knows what would happen to him if that stability ever left. Izana would give you the sun and the moon if you wanted them both, all he asked for in return was your loyalty.

478 notes · View notes

gigglesandfreckles-hp · 4 months

Note

OH can you please do "What do you need?" "A hug." for jily <333

from this prompt list

She’s been going for 20 minutes.

“It’s fucking ridiculous!”

James nods dutifully from his place on the couch. “Absolutely.”

“And it’s not as if Slughorn has the bollocks to actually say anything. Not beyond his usual rubbish anyway which is the whole reason Mulciber has the audacity to spout his blood supremacy nonsense at the bloody dinner table.”

“I hate that guy.”

Lily wheels around from where she’s been pacing by the fireplace. “Right? And I swear, James, he was pissed when he got to the dinner and Sluggy’s mead just made it worse. I was just sitting there, having to listen to him, as he…as he stares at me, over pudding. Because he doesn’t care that everyone knows exactly who he’s talking about. He makes my skin crawl, James.”

James takes a steadying breath and forces himself to continue to track Lily as she paces about the room, his face neutral and attentive. She’s made it clear enough times before that she won’t allow herself to go on these rants around him if she has to worry that he’ll just take them as permission to go hex the Slytherins. It’s a test of his self-control every time.

“I just wish that someone else would say something. For once! That it wouldn’t be me against the entire—”

James scoffs, his practised patience wearing thin. “I’ve told you—”

“You hate the Slug Club, James,” she interrupts with a sigh. “Don’t you remember the last time?”

Does he ever. Things had spiralled out of control at dinner, and the tension had spilled over into the corridors right after the party. Fortunately, Lily had the presence of mind to fetch Slughorn before anyone ended up needing a trip to the hospital wing. The Potions professor had quickly sent James and the Slytherins to their respective dorms, deducting only a few points from each house.

Of course, James and his friends had settled the score later that week, far from Slughorn’s watchful eye—but Lily didn’t need to know everything.

“And besides,” she continues, “I already know how you feel and it…it means everything to me, to have you on my side. But Jesus, James, you’d think at least one of the posh twats Sluggy invites week after week could at least have some sympathy.”

“Speaking on behalf of the posh twats of the world,” James begins, clearing his throat.

Lily cracks a smile, the first real win of the evening for James. “Oh, stop that,” she says, shaking her head. “We’re far too good of friends for you to fool me with that anymore.”

Friends. Good friends. Great friends!

James gives her a practised smile as she settles beside him on the couch, turning sideways to face him, knees drawn up to her chin.

“I’m sorry,” she says. “I really did mean for us to study. I—”

He shakes his head. “I’m happy to be a listening ear, Evans.”

She smiles softly, resting her chin on her knees as she watches him. The firelight dances across her face and hair, casting a warm glow that makes her look radiant. “I don’t know what I’d do without you.”

“Rot of boredom, probably,” he quips.

“You just…” She purses her lips. “You always know exactly what to do. What to say. It’s like…it’s like you’ve read the Lily Evans Manual.”

James forces himself not to drop his gaze, not to give up and openly confess how he’s studied her so closely for the past six and a half years that he could write a Lily Evans Manual.

“You make me sound way cooler than I am,” he says, leaning on one crooked arm against the back of the couch. “Do go on.”

She laughs, the sound muffled as she buries her face behind her knees, eyes squeezed shut. James's gaze lingers on her, absorbing every detail, as he commits the sight and sound of her to memory.

“I’m sorry you have to deal with them,” he says quietly, resisting the urge to reach across and lift her chin to meet his eyes. “It’s not fair.”

“No,” she sighs, “it’s not.”

“What do you need?” he asks. “I know hexing Mulciber is regrettably off the table for me,” (she laughs again) “but we could go get some ice cream from the kitchens or if you’d rather go ahead and start studying—”

“A hug,” she interrupts him.

His eyes widen. “From…me?”

“I mean,” she hesitates, her voice softening with uncertainty, “not if…not if it’s an inconvenience. I don’t—”

Before she can finish—before she can change her mind—he swiftly crosses the space between them on the couch and wraps his arms around her. Her knees collapse at once, falling off the couch between them, so she can press herself more fully against the solidness of his chest, her arms threading tight around his shoulders.

And they’re just friends. Good friends. Great friends! But he wouldn’t trade it for the world—not really.

#my fic #this was supposed to be short and sweet but alas #i am who i am #jily

106 notes · View notes

skeltrr · 25 days

Text

woke up with the urge to talk about P1 again, and I got a request to share my thoughts on his diary entries.

lets find out why I really don't think p1 is secretly a good person worthy of any sympathy for his actions

I'm gonna start this off by saying that I truly believe not just anybody can be a killer. It's my opinion that Dude must have been a violent person before his delusions ever took hold. But that doesn't take away from the "this could happen to anybody" aspect. It could, if you incubate a guy in hate his whole life and hand him a gun, yeah, he could also turn out this way.

But I do not buy Dude's excuse that Paradise is absolutely an evil place that needs to be culled. Maybe it is dangerous, but his unreliable narration is something we shouldn't forget about.

Entry one. Dude is freaked out about losing his house and his stress/anxiety is obviously high. But it's important to note his solution to this is to buy a fuckin gun. Right off the bat we have his viscous and confrontational nature shining through. This also says he bought a sidearm, which generally refers to a pistol. I don't see why it would be any different here. Conceal and carry and all that.

This is not the only gun he owns, because we start the game with an AR.

And that tips me off to Dude planning his course of action at least a little bit. You don't need an AR (especially one illegally modified to be auto instead of semi-auto) more than you need a pistol in any given self-defense situation. Unless you think you will have multiple targets that need to be taken out in rapid succession, of course.

The rifle also has endless ammunition. Guess we can safely headcanon that he stocked up. For what? I DUNNO....

level 2 lets us know that immediately after shooting up his neighborhood, Dude is already stuck to the narrative that he is the only sane person around. He's trying to get to the sheriff, but it's not to help anyone but himself.

By level 3 he's already calling everyone animals. This is an important nod to how he views his fellow human beings. They're just animals. This 'sickness' has turned them into something he doesn't feel the need to empathize with. He has put himself on a huge pedestal here. Still not actively trying to save anyone, though.

Now he wants to napalm the whole town and he wants the Air Force to do it. He continues to be self-serving. 'Ensuring this madness doesn't contaminate the rest of the country' doesn't really ring out as a heroic statement after the things he's already done and said. I still think he's out to save his own skin by finding or creating some kind of safe haven.

It's important to note on this one that the "parade" was actually just a parade. These fools were literally just playing music down the street and Dude decided they were maniacs that needed to be put down. Not only that, after this experience he turns his diary into a "war journal". If his "me against them and that includes innocents" mindset hasn't become clear yet... Let's keep goin.

here he's just getting excited to have the advantage. Because I think he likes killing and the power that comes with it. He hasn't shown any remorse yet for any lives lost.

Now he's convinced himself he has to kill everyone and he's going to do it not only efficiently (what a wild word to use when referring to murder), but without any fucking remorse as well? I mean come on man, this guy thinks he's the dealer of divine punishment. And he isn't sparing anybody.

These two are the best evidence that he's trying to help anyone during this rampage of his, but these still sound incredibly self-serving to me. I mean, he does say he's going to warn them. I guess that's... Noble. Except that he doesn't even do that. He never mentions ever trying to do this at the train station or after. It's never brought up again.

Why he gotta kill the ostriches? They sick too? Or does he just like killin.

I feel like these are starting to speak for themselves. I'm still not seeing a savior complex or hidden compassion. Not seeing any tears for the lost on this one boys. also the "prepare for.... deconstruction!" is straight from the loading screens. The entire entry echoes what the demon's says.

Maybe he and the demon ain't so different, i dunno.

I don't take this one seriously. He is making jokes, he knows he's the deadliest thing out and about tonight.

The last 4 entries are just him worrying about his own skin again. Still not showing us any remorse because he famously regrets nothing. And at this point he just kinda seems tired of it all, I mean the game takes place over the course of a DAYS long spree.

I guess an argument could be made that the whole overarching plot of Dude trying to find the source of this 'infection' and put himself in harms way to do it would be the proof he thinks himself a savior. Howeverrrr.... If he does think that of himself, it has nothing to do with his compassion or his want to do good. This man is on a murder spree, his delusions are all wrapped up in his distrust and dislike of the government, authorities and even general public. He is killing and elevating himself on an insane power trip while also remaining the victim in his own mind to justify his actions.

I do not think Dude is an especially good person at his core and I don't believe his delusions popped out of nowhere due to stress alone. I believe the "demon" and the delusion/hallucinations as a whole were tailored to Dude's already shitty nature, desires and fears.

Okay well... I guess that's all I got to say for now. See ya

#postal dude #postal hcs

95 notes · View notes

yanderehsr · 11 months

Note

Boooh…👻 happy october!

Can I request for yandere blade, Jing Yuan and Topaz with ghost catcher reader with an assistant woobaboo by their side(how adorable) and there like saying to the yanderes that there are ghost in the area so stay away…

Ha, you fool, I fear no ghosts, I fear but one thing...🍎

Hope you'll enjoy😄

Trigger Warning: Yandere, Obsessive behaviour, Possessive behaviour, Kidnapping, Murder... is it considered murder to kill a ghost?

Blade: If he wasn't enchanted by your beauty he would almost laugh, why would he ever get scared of a few measly ghosts. He can't hear a word you're saying, he just knows it sounds lovely and it makes him hurt less, he made a decision, you are coming with him whether you want to or not, he reaches out his hand to grab you but gets stopped by an angry looking ghost.

Blade can see the confusion in your face, you didn't realise what he was about to do... he doesn't care either way, you are coming with him and that's that. It didn't take long before the ghost was gone, it didn't even leave a body behind cus it didn't have one, Blade can hear your cries at the death of your friend but he finds himself unable to care, now come with him or he will force you.

"How annoying, stop crying and come with me, or do I have to do this the hard way"

Jing Yuan: He knows of you, you work with Huohuo with taking care of ghost problems, he had never met with you before today tho, never had he regretted not doing something until today, how come he hadn't seen you until today, you're an absolute beauty. Jing Yuan thinks it's cute how you warn him of the ghosts, didn't you know who he is?

Jing Yuan would try to manipulate the Woobaboo into liking him, if he can get it to like him then it would be easier to get you, the ghost is unsure of him in the beginning but warms up to him later. And when you see that your companion trusts him, you do as well, and that is exactly what he wants, you trusted him just in time, your room is finished after all.

"I was thinking you could stay with me for a couple of days, your companion is welcome as well... Hmmm, nope, you don't have work, I'm giving you a couple days off here, just accept them... and accept me"

Topaz: She loves your pet, she doesn't see it as a companion of yours, it's just a pet, she thinks it's super adorable. She will actually listen if you warn her to not go any further, if you warn her then it must be for a good reason. She doesn't go any further but she chooses to stay and talk with you instead.

Topaz feels like she has to have you, wouldn't your life be better without the stress of having to deal with ghosts, wouldn't your life by so much better by her side. This may be your first meeting but Topaz has already chosen your destiny, you are to stay by her side, comfortable and loved for the rest of your life.

"Oh darling, why can't you just accept my offer, do you truly want to spend your life working, just come with me and you'll never have to lift a single finger again"

#yandere #yandere honkai star rail #yandere hsr #yandere male #yandere female #yandere blade #yandere blade x reader #yandere jing yuan #yandere jing yuan x reader #yandere topaz #yandere topaz x reader

344 notes · View notes

argisthebulwark · 1 year

Text

"Are You Two Together?"

summary: Short pieces of how I think various Skyrim men would react to this question (they're all definitely together) gn reader, no pronouns or y/n used. feat: Brynjolf, Vilkas, Farkas, Arnbjorn, Cicero, Erandur, Balimund, Mercer warnings: slightly suggestive (Brynjolf, Erandur)

You can feel Brynjolf’s confidence skyrocket at the question. One hand sneaks to your lower back to draw you even closer. It’s absolutely the last thing you need - if anyone in the Guild knew about you two it would ruin their opinion of you. Barely getting your footing and already sleeping with your mentor? Ignoring Brynjolf’s cocky grin you clear your throat, trying to banish the heat in your cheeks. “Of course not.” Your words aren’t exactly convincing when you consider the messy state of your armor and the clear bite marks on his exposed skin. Mercer’s eyes dart between the obvious clues, offering nothing but an unimpressed grunt before turning away. “Right. That would be unprofessional.”

“Absolutely not.” Vilkas answers despite the hand clasped in yours. You fight to stifle a laugh at his staunch refusal to share his personal life with others. “We’re clearly coworkers. Why would you ask such a question?” “Well, you’re -” the poor recruit stammers into silence when Vilkas' glare turns to them. You’ll chastise him after the lad returns to his group of whelps across the hall but you know how much he delights in someone thinking he’s frightening. “The Harbinger’s relationship status is none of your business.” His tone is curt, a contrast to the delicate way his thumb traces over the back of your hand. “Now leave us.”

“Yeah, I’m courting them.” Farkas snorts at the question. He thought it was fairly obvious - the two of you were practically joined at the hip. On the rare occasion one of you left Jorrvaskr without the other he swept you into his arms upon returning. He sat dutifully at your side while you sorted through the mess of being a Harbinger, planning out training routines or sharpening his sword. “Hear that, love? I’m courting you.” Turning that dazzling grin on you, Farkas places an exaggerated kiss on your hand. “Many apologies for skipping a few steps.”

“Why?” Neither confirming nor denying Arnbjorn continues with his work, fully ignoring the conversation. As you’ve spent many days before you’re perched on his workbench, parchments spread around you entirely in his way. He’s grumbled about the mess a few times but hushes when you retort that he is far more interesting. “Why would you think Arnbjorn and I are together?” Sharpening your tone, you needle the young trainee with the question. You see uncertainty in the way he glances between you and Arnbjorn’s tense back. “Well, some of the others were talking.” “What do you think about that?” Arnbjorn pauses at your teasing tone, a gruff hand on your thigh as he reaches for the correct tool. The poor recruit looks ready to bolt. “Sounds like a ridiculous rumor.”

Cicero is absolutely overjoyed at the question. The mere thought of others knowing he is with his Listener, of being associated with the one he loves! He’s practically bouncing at your side, hand grasping yours to his chest while you await whatever he’s got to say. “Is it so obvious?” He sighs dramatically, a softness in his voice usually reserved just for you. “Oh, truly Cicero is quite the lovesick fool. It appears everyone has learned that the Listener owns his silly heart.”

“As a Priest of Mara, I love all of her lady’s subjects.” Erandur’s practiced words do nothing to hide the telltale marks you’d left on his throat. The skin’s a tender reminder of the night before - you sneaking through the temple into his chambers, his words like prayers promising whatever you wish as long as you keep touching him. Clearing his throat Erandur forces himself to refocus on the acolyte standing before him. “I would never allow them special privileges due to any personal feelings.”

“Never would’ve thought to put a label on it.” Balimund would surely get a kick out of the question. You don’t mind the interest - after the amount of time you’ve dedicated to him during your increasing visits to Riften it’s hardly a secret. You never intended on sharing your relationship with strangers but Balimund’s reliable hand on your shoulder or the way you lean into his chest in the market must’ve drawn some eyes. You’d never discussed your relationship, simply aware of shared feelings. “I guess we are.” He answers and that soft smile is enough to warm your heart.

“No,” Mercer lies through his teeth. You’d likely act no different if asked such a question - there’s too much at stake. If one lie unravels the others will surely follow. If anyone begins to speculate about your romantic entanglement with the Guild Master there’s no telling what else they could uncover. Ignoring the little twinge of hurt in your chest you return to your practice dummy, sure that you’ll say the same if they aren’t convinced. “I hardly know their name.” He scoffs, kicking a foot up on his desk. “No special treatment around here.”

#skyrim #skyrim fanfic #x reader fanfic #writing #skyrim x reader #brynjolf #vilkas #farkas #arnbjorn #cicero #erandur #balimund #mercer frey

467 notes · View notes

undiscovered-horizon · 2 years

Note

Eleventh Doctor x insecure/ anxious reader?

🫀REQUESTS ARE OPEN🫀 || Doctor Who-inspired playlist

"Cold feet" - 11th Doctor x Reader

SUMMARY: Funnily enough, after facing death and vicious aliens, it's small talk with strangers that gives you cold feet. Fortunately enough, you found yourself in the company of an expert on running away.

WORDCOUNT: ~ 1.9k

A/N: As an anxious person I cannot be thankful enough for people in my life who casually roll with my anxiety and don't try to "fix" it with cheap advice

"Time Lord to human! Are you listening to me?"

The sudden yelling shook you awake. Only then did you realize you zoned out in the first place, letting Doctor's rushed words brush right by you. You looked at him only to see pure annoyance seeping from his expression. Although you never meant to hurt him, the guilt still gnawed at you.

"Sorry, missed the last bit," you explained yourself as you awkwardly rubbed the back of your neck. "What were you saying?"

Instead of repeating his scientific ramblings which definitely would have been a little too fast and complex for you to understand, he shifted his posture to rest his hands on his hips. You felt as if he had caught you red-handed doing something he had absolutely prohibited you from doing.

"Oi, what's going on with you? It's like you've lost your head."

You absentmindedly shook your head to dismiss his worry. "Yeah, sorry, it's no-"

"Are you in love?"

For a moment you couldn't get any sound to leave your mouth. "What?" It was a bizarre conclusion to jump to. You couldn't tell what on Earth could even get him that idea. "No, it's on-"

"Good for you!" he said as he clapped his hands. "Now, moving on. Focus, eyes on me."

"Look, it's just that I've got a..." you suspended your voice thinking of the right word to use. The Doctor stared at you with wide eyes, clearly awaiting the second part of the sentence. "Thing."

"A thing?" he repeated in confusion. It seemed as if with each of your words he only grew more offended at your misplaced attention.

"Yes, a thing." Out of all the words you could have used, your choice seemed to have fallen on the worst and least exhaustive one. "My friend, Ada, is throwing a party for some of her college friends but apart from me everyone invited is from her course, so she's going to be the only person I know there."

"And that's what you've been thinking about while I was explaining my clever, clever plan?"

The Doctor stared at you with closely knit eyebrows. In some way, he couldn't fathom how a party invitation could be in any way more interesting than him showing off his extraordinary intellect and creativity. Choosing between a college party and aliens should have been a lot easier than it truly was.

"It's not as simple as it sounds, you know?"

"Alright, then tell me." By his hand-flapping and surprisingly undivided attention, you couldn't tell whether he was growing more upset or actually wanted to hear about what was troubling you.

"Honestly, I don't want to go but it's important for Ada. Also, I haven't seen her in ages. On the other hand..." your voice drifted away. Now that you've started this little heart-to-heart, it was pointless to lie to the Doctor - if successful, fooling him wouldn't gain anything anyway. "It's a party full of strangers."

For a moment he stared at you in silence, visibly expecting you to elaborate but truthfully, there wasn't anything more to say. The hypothetical group of strangers, as faceless as they were, was already stressful enough, even without giving them imaginary traits or habits.

"Strangers, right," he said as he clasped his hands. The sound echoed throughout the console room. He looked away for a moment, basking in enlightenment, before looking back at you. "How exactly is that a problem?" he dwelled on the subject. It seemed as if the discomfort of a company of strangers was hardly conceivable.

"You wouldn't get it." You vaguely waved your hand at him in a dismissive manner. Maybe it was unfair towards him but you really couldn't imagine a scenario in which he doesn't throw in a sarcastic comment about your anxiety. "I mean, how could you? Socializing has never been a problem for you."

"How could it be? People, party, cake, dancing. I love dancing! Great times, nothing to be scared of."

"Yes, there is: small talk and thirty people I've never met. And that's only the beginning."

Even the mere mention of that situation made a cold shiver run down your spine. A flutter of anxiety in your chest brought an unpleasant, suffocating sensation. Unconsciously, your face contorted in a grimace.

"You just go up to them and talk, what's hard about that?"

"Everything!" you exclaimed as you made a broad movement with your hands. "It's just... I can't do that. I physically can't make myself go up to a stranger and ask how they're doing, I'd rather hit my head against a wall. I know the theory, the 'walking through a house' metaphor, it's just... I can't force my body to do that. And when I do find myself talking to a stranger, I want it to end immediately. And the silence! Oh God, the silence... Like when you ask them a question, they answer and then the silence. The awkward silence of my anxiety, lack of social skills and being a generally uninteresting person. Just a bit of quiet and everyone knows I'm weird, awkward and-"

"Hey, hey, stop it!" he scolded you in a whiny voice as if you were a child. "Don't say that. You're not awkward or weird, you're brilliant!"

"Thanks, that's nice of you but unfortunately, I am self-aware."

He may have known you for weeks but you've known yourself for decades.

"No, really." He refused to let go. If the Doctor was going to spout cliche pick-me-ups, he appeared exceptionally committed to the meaningless act. "You crossed the universe as it is wide and long. Fought aliens and risked your life because a toddler couldn't sleep at night. Blimey, you told a Sontaran with a bomb bigger than your head to piss off. And it's house party small talk that gives you cold feet?"

Contrary to his presumption, the context didn't give you any comfort or motivation - it only made you feel worse. If you really were as brave as he made it seem, why couldn't you just start a conversation with your friend's guests? By the measure of saving the universe multiple times, you should be more than capable to do so.

"I know it sounds ridiculous and I agree it's stupid but it's not the same. When we're saving worlds it's a mission, a puzzle to solve." You paused for a moment but by your expression, the Doctor could tell there was something else on your mind. "And I've got you," you added.

"Me?" he asked sheepishly. The Doctor vaguely pointed his finger at himself. "What does that have to do with me?"

"You make me a little braver. I mean, you don't look scared even when you are, so it gives me a little push. I feel a little less anxious when I know that you've got my back."

"So what do you do when I'm not there?"

"Bail," you answered with a shrug. Were you really the same person who criticized the fashion choices of an alien with more guns than limbs? "I rarely go but when I do, I just run off around midnight like Cinderella." You made a small pause when you lowered your gaze, avoiding the Doctor's face. "Honestly, it always makes me feel ashamed like I'm making myself miss out on something but it's either that or panicking in the bathroom."

A silence fell between you. The Doctor's typical hand flapping came to a strange halt as he continued to stare at you with an inexplicable expression. He would have agreed on your resemblance to Cinderella, your regent-esque charm and princess-like beauty but there seemed to be a matter more important at hand:

"Has that ever happened?"

His voice was surprisingly quiet, hesitant even as if he didn't want to actually know the answer. Maybe he wasn't sure he was ready for the responsibility the knowledge would bring. The Doctor's words were barely audible over the whirring and wheezing of the TARDIS's engineering.

"Which part?"

"Panicking in the bathroom."

"Yeah," you said quietly. Your gaze fell to the floor. Looking for some kind of comfort, you slowly rubbed your arm. "It was New Year at my friend's, didn't know anyone there except for him. At some point, I just needed to take a break from being around so many people. I sat in the bathroom wearing a silver sequin ballgown and fought back tears. Funny, I probably looked equally pathetic and great. The only thing I could think about was how rubbish I was at just hanging out with people and, you know, being a normal teen at a normal teen party filled with normal teens. I just..." you stopped yourself at the last moment possible. A heavy, defeated sigh left your lips before you continued in a voice barely above a whisper. "I just wish I was a little less anxious."

"You never said anything."

"Why would I? It's not something I'm exactly proud of." You let out a bitter chuckle as you answered him.

Suddenly you found yourself engulfed in a tight hug. The Doctor's arms were tightly wrapped around you, his slow but ragged breath brushing against your neck. Surprised at the unforeseen affection, you hesitantly reciprocated the embrace. The tweed of his jacket was slightly coarse, some strings were coming out of the seams. He always smelled like burnt wires and a second-hand bookshop. At first, that distinct fragrance wasn't exactly pleasant to you but with time it became a beacon of hope, comfort, adventure and a good laugh.

"Oh, you brilliant, clever you," he quietly said in a sad voice.

Then he stepped away from you just as swiftly and surprisingly as he hugged you in the first place. The first thing you noticed was the change in his facial expression: the Doctor was no longer annoyed or concerned but excited as if he had just come up with a perfect solution to some mind-boggling problem.

"Well then, good thing you're not going alone this time."

"I'm... not?"

"Yes! A plus-one. It's still a thing, right? I'm your plus-one."

"That's sweet of you but you really don't have to. I'm fine on my own," you assured him, although he had no reason to believe you after what you'd already told him.

"Change of plans, sweetheart!" he exclaimed as he pulled one of the many levers. The TARDIS was about to take flight and it was a little too late for arguments and second thoughts. "We're going together and when people become a little too much we attend to an emergency," he said while running between different parts of the flight console. As if he was dancing, he made a whole circle around the control switchboard and stood in front of you once again. The Doctor stuck his index finger in your face as if reprimanding you once more. "No panicking in the bathrooms."

"Wait, what emergency?" you asked as he was already taking directions to your hometown.

"You know, this very real emergency that can't wait and we have to take care of it at the very moment. The crisis that I definitely did not invent just now."

"Right..." you drew out your answer as you caught on to his ruse. A smile crept unto your face. "Time travellers, defenders of the universe. You can never know when you're needed. Any suspicions as to what the emergency is?"

"Laskos' fourth moon. There's that small waffle bar that might need an inspection."

1K notes · View notes

loversj0y · 1 year

Text

three drunk nights.

wilbur soot x gn! reader

TWs: lots of drinking and alcohol, alcohol is used as a coping mechanism (dont do this), slightly suggestive content, vomiting, jokes about vomiting, lots of pining, drunk kisses n drunk confessions

word count: 8.8k (specifically 8888 words)

note: MAR IS FINALLY POSTING WHO CHEERREEDDDDDD this fic was a tiny idea that i discussed a bit with a friend and then it just absolutely spiraled into this. this is also probably the most suggestive thing i will ever write (it's not that suggestive, i am just anxious so i actually had to ask someone if one of the lines was too suggestive so-) anyway. hope you enjoy! big thank you to everyone who chatted with me about this fic and helped me brainrot over this concept so i could actually stay motivated

taglist: @l0veb0mb1ng / @corequeen / @zooone / @melunnek / @shubblelive

When you moved to Brighton, you knew you would have to find a roommate. Rent was expensive, and your salary wouldn’t be nearly enough to live alone. You didn’t expect your roommate to end up being Wilbur Soot. You didn’t know who he was when you met him, he just seemed like a kind guy looking for a new roommate. You were a bit wary at first, when you’d only communicated over texts after seeing ads in a coffee shop, but after meeting him, you felt okay to move in. He was a genuinely nice guy, and not only did he make you feel safe, the two of you ended up getting pretty close quite quickly. It helped that he was funny and kind and had the most gorgeous eyes you’d ever seen.

You couldn’t deny just how attractive you found your roommate. Even when you first met him, you thought he was quite fit, but you made an agreement with yourself that you wouldn’t catch feelings. You needed a place to live more than another ruined relationship under your belt.

Your heart didn’t quite agree. Within the first three weeks of living together, you’d become entranced by him, a crush that took over your body and soul. Every time you looked at him, it brought a grin across your face, and every time he looked at you, it had a wine flush rising to your cheeks.

Regardless, you wouldn’t act on it. As overwhelming as it was, you couldn’t risk it. Wilbur is always home, so it makes it kind of hard to escape him, but at least when he’d stream, you could have time alone without having to worry about acting like a fool.

Today was like that. When you got home from work, you could faintly hear the sound of Wilbur talking and yelling in his room, and you smiled at the sound. You changed out of your uniform foremost, grabbing some headphones as you walked into the kitchen. You used the headphones to play music, not wanting to risk disturbing Wilbur. Instead, you started making some dinner. Just something simple and easy, and you made a portion for Wilbur too. Even if he’d already eaten, you could at least save it for lunch tomorrow. You finally had a day off, and you were so incredibly excited to do nothing except lay in bed for hours. The cooking was calming too, allowing you to unwind from a stressful day. And speaking of unwinding from a stressful day, you grabbed a wine glass and poured yourself a quick glass, humming along to the song playing in your headphones. You drank and cooked at the same time, until your pasta was done, and you started preparing yourself a plate. You prepared a plate for Wilbur as well, setting it in the microwave to stay warm. You grabbed your glass of wine first, and as you went to reach for your plate, you yelped and jumped as you felt a hand on your shoulder, splashing wine across your shirt.

You pulled your headphones off, turning quickly to see Wilbur, chuckling softly.

“Sorry, I called out, didn’t realise you didn’t hear me over the headphones.” He smiled softly, then frowned when he saw your shirt, “Sorry. Didn’t mean to make you jump.”

You shook your head softly, “It’s alright. Didn’t realise you were done already,” you hummed, grabbing a napkin even though you knew your shirt would need a lot more than just that. “I made you some pasta too. It’s in the microwave, I didn’t want it to get cold.”

He smiled fondly, humming, “Thanks.” He reached for his plate, and you walked to your room to change quickly. “Did work go well?” He called out as he sat down on the couch.

“Eh, it was fine,” you called back to him. “How was your stream?” You asked, walking back into the room to pour yourself another glass of wine before eating.

“It went well. Just did some Geoguessr.”

You nodded, sitting next to him on the couch as you began eating. You grabbed the remote, tossing it to him.

He chuckled and took it, putting on some random YouTube videos for you to watch while you ate. Most of the meal was silent, occasional quips in between videos being the most spoken until you finished your food. You washed your plate quickly, knowing you’d be annoyed if you left it for tomorrow. Wilbur did the same after, humming as he looked around the cupboards.

“You’re off tomorrow right?”

You nodded, “Yeah, why?”

“You want a drink?” He hummed, grabbing a bottle of vodka from the cupboard. You thought about it. It’d been a while since you drank anything, and it’s not like you had any obligations tomorrow anyway, so…

“Sure,” you hummed, “Just use a mixer. You are not getting me to drink anything straight ever again.”

He rolled his eyes, “That was one time.”

“One time that resulted in me throwing up in a parking lot,” you remind him. He chuckles, starting to pour the drinks, “And now you have a very fun night out story to tell people.”

You chuckled, rolling your eyes, “Yes, and I’d like to keep the number of those stories at one.”

He hummed a bit, shrugging as he handed you a drink, “We’ll see. Cheers.” You tapped your glass against his, taking a quick sip.

“Wow, for once? It actually tastes drinkable.”

He snorted and rolled his eyes, “I know what I’m doing.” He grinned, and you followed him over to the couch, sitting down next to him.

As the drinks flowed, so did words and stories from both your lips as you sat next to each other, the TV having been forgotten in respect to the far more interesting view in front of you. Wilbur’s cheeks were dusted in pink from the alcohol, and you were almost certain that yours matched. Though it wasn’t just the alcohol in your case.

“Have you ever really been in love?” He’d asked a few minutes ago, and it brought on a whole conversation about past love.

It’s not like your case was tragic. It just wasn’t exactly the most loving either.

“Honestly? My ex was the most boring person you’d ever meet. Even now, it’s been almost two years since he and I were together, right?” You chuckled softly, “I couldn’t tell you a single thing about his personality. He wasn’t even interested in anything. And it’s not like he was mean or anything, the relationship was fine, but he barely even kissed me. Like if it’s been about two years since before we broke up, it’s probably been like two and a half since I’ve last been kissed.” You laughed, finding amusement in it, as morbid as that seemed.

“Really?” He asked, “Even when me and my ex broke up, we’d still at least been kissing by that point. Granted, that was only a few months ago, but still.”

“I’m serious, it was,” you hummed, “it was something to say the least. Truthfully, I question if maybe I’m just a shit kisser or something. Sometimes I wonder if I’d even remember how to kiss someone at this point.”

He tilted his head a bit, “Hm, I doubt you’d be a bad kisser. Have you ever- like- practised with someone? So they can tell you?”

You snorted, almost choking on your drink, “God, no, I, never,” your cheeks flamed as you shook your head. “Never was really close enough to anyone to do that, I guess.”

He was silent for a quick moment, “Would you?”

The bright blush on your cheeks didn’t falter as you spoke, “I’m not sure, uhm, it depends on who it is and-”

“Me.” He hummed, a grin on his face. “If you wanted to practise, and I offered, would you?”

This was incredibly dangerous territory for your brain. The logical part of you probably would’ve ended the conversation, switching topics onto something you felt that you could discuss safely without your heart trying to overtake it. But honestly, before you could even consider the consequences, the alcohol had knocked down the filter in your brain, leading to your easy response of, “Yeah.”

That brought a slight blush to Wilbur’s cheeks, and god, you didn’t even have the words to describe how gorgeous he looked right now with his tousled hair, loose striped shirt giving you a peek at his collarbone, and the alluring pink that covered his cheeks. He set his drink down, though the glass was empty anyway, and he shifted a bit closer to you.

“Do you want to practise? I can give you a thorough review.” Despite his big words, his blushing was just as bad as yours.

You should say no. This is probably a bad idea. It’s a terrible fucking idea. It’s a bad idea.

“Yeah.”

Wilbur didn’t hesitate, his hand wrapping around your neck and pulling you in for a kiss. It was soft for about half a second. Then it was passionate, your arms wrapping around his neck and gasping into the kiss. One hand moved down to your lower back, holding you close as the kiss deepened. After a moment, he pulls away, panting.

“You’re definitely not a bad kisser.”

He doesn’t even give you a chance to respond, pulling you in for another heavy kiss, warmth radiating through you. You knew nothing would escalate past this, but you didn’t even want it to. The way he kissed you had you reeling, gasping into his mouth as he held you close. You ran a hand up, tugging at the ends of his hair and making him groan against your lips. The sound was melodic, and you wanted nothing more than to hear it again. God, you knew it was wrong. You were so fucking in love with this man, and you were both drunk, and he was just doing this as a bit of a favor. But fuck, you were going to allow yourself to indulge this once. This was probably going to be the only time you ever got to kiss him, and you knew tomorrow the both of you would pretend this never happened.

Your prediction was correct. The next day, when you finally rose from bed with a brain-splitting headache, Wilbur was standing in the kitchen. Neither of you brought up the kiss and things went on, business as usual. You didn’t regret the kiss, per se. However, it definitely made your heart heavier whenever you saw Wilbur. The kiss was something you’d never recover from, but you had to try.

You devised a plan. Maybe you just needed to meet someone new. Someone to get your mind off Wilbur. And what better place to find a person who will most definitely be a mistake than a pub. While you were planning to go alone, Wilbur had seen you getting ready and asked where you were going. You could’ve lied. Call you weak, but when he looked at you with those soft eyes and gentle grin, you just couldn’t.

“The pub,” you answered simply, “Do I look alright?”

He took a moment to look over your outfit and nodded, “Yeah, looks good. I’ll get dressed, and I could join too? If- if you want, I mean-” he stuttered a bit, not wanting to impose.

You should’ve said no. But you were just so weak to him, “Yeah, sure. That’s fine. You can invite whoever too.”

He nodded, “I’ll see if Toms and his girlfriend want to join, yeah?”

You nodded again, humming softly. He walked to his room, presumably to change, and you fucking prayed that Tommy and Molly would be joining. You didn’t think you’d be able to go an entire evening of drinking alone with Wilbur without making some sort of mistake. You pulled on a coat, grabbing a sip of water before you left, trying to prevent another morning of groaning in pain and shut curtains. Wilbur walked back out from his room, and you mentally cursed yourself for just how good he looked. His black button up that he left just slightly unbuttoned at the top had your mind reeling, and you quickly shifted your eyes away. Tonight was not the night for thoughts like those; you were trying to get over him.

“Tommy said they’ll meet us there, sound good?” He asked as he grabbed his wallet.

Thank god. “Yeah, that’s fine.”

He held the door open for you to walk out, and you paused to let him lock the door to your flat.

“Any reason you wanted to go out tonight?”

“Not really,” you hummed, walking side by side with him. “Just felt the urge to get out of the house, I guess.”

He nodded, “Oh, yeah, I suppose neither of us really get out that much.”

“You get out less than I do. I’m shocked you even go into the sun anymore, you vampire.”

He laughed, head tilting back with a grin, “I’m not that pale. And I don’t bite, I just look like I do.”

The bump on your lip last week begged to differ.

“You do look like you would. What’s the opposite of an ankle biter? Because you’re too tall for that. Maybe a scalp biter.”

He snorted, “Careful, tease me too much and maybe I’ll stoop to that level.”

God. You knew it was meant as an innocent joke, but fuck, you were too sober for this.

You gave a half-hearted chuckle, “Right, mmhm. Not my fault you’re just that tall.”

He rolled his eyes, placing his arm onto your head, “You’re just mad you need help grabbing things off the top shelves.”

“Listen, they just shouldn’t make things unreasonably tall. You are an outlier here.” You moved your head from under his arm, huffing.

“Mmhm, console yourself however you please.”

The walk felt pretty short between all of your shared joking, and you had to continuously remind yourself that you were trying to get over him, not fall further in love. When you two arrived, you were thankful that Tommy and Molly were already there, at least allowing you to have some semblance of a mental break from his stupid, gorgeous face and mind. You shared a quick hello, sitting across from Molly, and taking a moment to look around and scope out the place. You were focused on trying to see if there was anyone that interested you when Wilbur nudged your arm.

“I’m going to grab a drink, you want anything?”

You hummed, nodding, “Rum and coke. A double.”

He raised an eyebrow, then chuckled, “Alright. Sure.”

He walked to the bar, and you let out a soft sigh. You felt bad being so relieved that he walked away, but there was a certain level of stress associated with being around him and hiding your feelings. You met knowing eyes from Molly, and you huffed, looking away.

“Soo, how’ve you been?” She asked, and you could sense the undertones there.

“Fine. Hoping to find someone tonight. You know how it is.”

Molly nodded, understanding flashing in her eyes. Tommy was none-the-wiser to the secret conversation you and Molly had, speaking up, “Oh, yes, I definitely know how it is. Ah, young love, young love. Sometimes, you know, young love is right under our noses.” He poked at his nose, pushing it up to accentuate his point.

You nodded slowly, “Right. Well. It’s been long enough, I think. About time to get back out there.”

Tommy seemed hesitant to this, “I doubt people here will be the best pick.”

“Probably not, but it’s pretty good practise, right? Flirting with strangers?”

“Sure. I mean, I flirted with so many women to be ready to flirt with Molly.”

You snorted, “Sure, Tommy. How many women did you flirt with, then?”

“Tommy?” Wilbur spoke up, having returned with your drink and his own, “None. Tommy doesn’t know how to flirt.”

Tommy gasped, “I do know how to flirt! You don’t! I have given you so many tips, Wilbur, and which one of us is in a relationship? Not you!”

Wilbur was laughing, rolling his eyes in response to Tommy’s annoyed griping, “Sure, Tommy. And how many times have you tried to get Phil and Kristin to divorce?”

Tommy went to respond, but he was stumped by Wilbur nonetheless.

Drinks and stories had been shared, you and Wilbur both feeling the familiar warmth of drunkness coming over you. It’d been almost two hours, and you still hadn’t even spoken to a single new person. You knew you’d lose your chance soon, and thankfully, you had a convenient way to slip away from the table.

“I’m going to use the bathroom and grab another drink, any of you want one?”

Molly and Tommy turned you down, but Wilbur was quick to ask for another drink with a grin that made your knees weak. You nodded, heading straight for the bar. You didn’t actually need to use the bathroom; you simply wanted an excuse to be gone for a bit longer.

You walked to the bar, standing there alone for a moment, both to get used to the drunken perspective and to scope out any prospective flirts. It didn’t take long.

The man next to you was tall (not as tall as Wilbur), with slightly wavy brown hair (not as soft looking as Wilbur’s), and hazel eyes (not as gorgeous and deep as Wilbur’s). The important part about him was the look he gave you; not quite undressing you with his eyes, but not innocent either. A haunting middle ground for you to discover what would likely become a mistake.

“Well, hey there,” he grinned, turning his body towards you, “You look like you could use a drink.”

You ignored the fact that you knew you looked and felt plastered already, letting a giggle pass from your lips, “And so what if I do?”

He smirked, turning to the bartender and ordering for you. A vodka cranberry. The drink seemed to reflect the man as well; basic and not the best choice, but at least a consistent one. You could always trust a man to be consistent in his ways, at least.

He handed the drink to you, and you took it with a smile, taking a sip, “Well, why thank you.” You chuckled, causing a laugh to bubble slightly from him.

“So, what’s a pretty person like you doing alone in a bar like this?”

You weren’t alone, and you were the exact reason men like this went to a pub like this. You held your tongue, “Looking for something new, I suppose.”

“Oh? A lost soul, then,” he grinned, taking a sip from his pint, “I can respect that. I think all of us are lost in some way.”

Jesus fucking Christ. “Oh, yeah?”

“Yeah. I think the society we live in makes us feel lost. Always searching for something new. You know, I read this article-“ you tuned the rest of his sentence out, watching his lips move and nodding in key occasionally.

“That’s really interesting,” you hummed after he finished, “So, what are you doing here then?”

He chuckled, and you could feel a weird response coming on, “Anything. Seeing where the wind takes me. Finding some action, maybe, if that’s what’s decided for me tonight.”

You wanted to rip your hair out. “And if that is what the universe has decided for you?”

He smirked, and it did nothing for you, unlike the butterflies in your chest when Wilbur did the same. He brought a hand to your hip, “Well, guess it’s just my lucky day, then. If the universe presents me with an opportunity, who am I to turn it down?”

“You big on fate then?”

“Sure,” he nodded, “I find that fate is one of the most interesting things in life. The way it brings people into our lives. It’s fascinating.”

You drank about half of your drink before responding. “Yeah, it is. It defines things in your life before you even have a chance to know them.” You didn’t even believe that. You hated the idea that your life could be predetermined and decided by some other force and leave you no opportunity to change anything.

“God, yeah, it’s amazing,” he spoke, his hand wrapping a bit closer to you, “I’m not sure anyone’s told you, but you’re really smart. Smart and pretty.”

Wilbur had told you that. Probably a million times now, calling you a genius simply for being able to reset your wifi router. But you didn’t want to think about Wilbur now.

You allowed the alcoholic flush on your cheeks to be mistaken for a blush, smiling with faux-shyness, “Wow, thank you.”

“Yeah, you know, a lot of guys don’t see the beauty of a beautiful mind, but I think it’s the best quality, to not be an airhead like most people here are.”

You wanted to slam your head against the wall. Instead, someone slammed into you from behind, pushing you forward into the guy’s arms. Your hand came up to rest on his arm, craning your head up to look at him, resisting the urge to glare at the person behind you. At least from this angle, you could pretend the man you were speaking to was cuter than he actually was.

He chuckled, holding you up against him, sighing, “God, some people really are dicks.” One hand came to your chin, and you hummed.

“Yeah, at least you’re not.” You smiled softly. You had to at least act like you weren’t in love with someone else for this to hopefully work. You let your hand raise further up to his shoulder, eventually resting in the cusp between his shoulder and neck. You leaned in a bit closer, ready to spur some flirtatious line about how his lips taste when you were being yanked away.

You stumbled, only gaining footing when you were pulled outside, coming face-to-face with a pissed Wilbur.

“Will? What the fuck is your problem?”

“Oh, my problem?” Wilbur chuckled bitterly. His words were slurred slightly, not unlike yours. He pinched his eyebrows together, scoffing softly, “What the fuck do you think you’re doing?”

You gave him an incredulous look, arms crossing, “I was talking to someone, Wilbur, is that a fucking problem?”

“Oh, sure, you can call it talking all you want. You were throwing yourself at him.”

Your jaw dropped. “You’re fucking kidding me, right? You’re- you’re pissed because I was flirting with someone?”

“That wasn’t flirting, you were about to fucking make out with him! You don’t know him, I’m trying to look out for you!”

“Wilbur, you’re acting like I was begging him to fuck me or some shit, I was just flirting! He seemed like a nice guy, God forbid I try to actually find a relationship for once!” You felt insane having to defend flirting with a stranger to a man you not only loved, but just a few weeks ago spent hours making out on your couch. You tried not to think on it much.

“You cannot possibly think that was safe! You have no clue if he’s actually a nice guy!”

“Oh, I have no clue if he was a nice guy?”

“Yeah, you, he could’ve been a total prick, and you were basically crawling into his lap, begging him to kiss you!”

“For fuck’s sake, Wilbur, don’t act all high and fucking mighty about this, need I remind you, you’re the only who made out with me!”

“Yeah, and I’m not the one going off and throwing myself across the lap of the first person to buy me a drink!”

“Are you fucking kidding me?” You scoffed. You were aware of people staring at the two of you. You were outside and weren’t exactly quiet, but you couldn’t bring yourself to care. “If that’s what you think about me, I may as well just go back in there and make out with him right there! At least then I’ll be matching whatever fucking description of me you have in your mind.”

“You know what? Fine! Knock yourself out! Serves me right for trying to keep my best friend safe, just don’t come crawling back to me when he breaks your heart or leaves you drunk and stranded!”

You groaned in annoyance, watching as he walked away, leaving you in front of the bar.

“Fuck you, dickhead!” You yelled after him, and he didn’t respond, just kept walking.

You panted, yelling out in frustration into the cool night. You kicked the brick of the wall, whimpering in pain afterwards. You turned and sat on the ground, leaning your back against the wall as you just breathed.

You focused on breathing until you could focus on the lights around you, signs illuminated by fluorescent street lamps. You willed away the tears that blurred the words. The argument was sobering, to say the least, every aspect of a hangover hitting you all at once now that you sat against the cool brick. Fuck. You felt miserable, both from the sobering feeling and the fact that your best friend and roommate currently seemed to fucking hate you. And the worst part is you didn’t even get why! Like, yes, you were being reckless, you can attest to that, but you’ve been reckless before. He’s been reckless with you. With your heart. You can’t blame him for that; he had no way of knowing how horribly in love with him you were.

The worst part was that it didn’t even work. Flirting with a stranger only brought you greater reminders of how in love with Wilbur you were. Fighting with Wilbur only made you worry that you’d never get over him. You should hate him right now. He said horrible fucking things; he was a prick, an asshole, a dickhead. There weren’t enough swears to properly convey just how mean he’d been. In the morning, you’d give him more sympathy for being drunk and not having enough of a filter to process what he was saying. But in this moment, you gave him no sympathy, and you still felt like you would tear your heart out and hand it to him if he asked.

Everything sucked. You were cold, shaking from anger, exhausted, and just downright fucking sad. Usually when you were upset like this, you’d just go to Wilbur for some cheering up, but you’d be damned before you faced him again tonight. Which left you two options. Either staying out until Wilbur was hopefully asleep or asking Tommy if you could crash at his. Knowing Wilbur, he wouldn’t be asleep until three or four at the most.

You didn’t want to go back inside. Didn’t want to face the stranger you’d flirted with, have to entertain another conversation that would lead nowhere. You would just wait. You’d sit here and close your eyes and just wait until Tommy and Molly came out.

“-y? Y/N?” You felt yourself being shaken slightly, eyes opening blearily.

Tommy was crouched in front of you, one hand on your arm.

“Oh, shit,” you groaned, rubbing your eyes softly. It was still dark, and you could still see the same couple Wilbur passed at the end of the corner when he’d left, so it couldn’t have been much later. “Must’ve drifted off, I guess.”

Tommy frowned, looking around. “Have you just been alone out here? Where’d Wilbur go?”

“We got into a fight,” you sighed, running a hand down your face, “Uh, would it be possible to crash on your couch tonight? I’d rather not face Wilbur again tonight.”

“Yeah, yeah, that’s fine,” he frowns softly, “Do you want to head there now, or do you need us to sit with you for a moment?”

You shake your head and sigh, “I’d rather head there now.” You stood up slowly, Molly coming to help you up as well.

“Was it a bad fight then? He said he was just going to check on you,” she asked softly, Tommy starting to lead the way back to his apartment.

“It was… rough. Think he hates me,” you admitted in a soft voice, and she frowned, rubbing your back gently.

“I’m sure he doesn’t. Wilbur’s just a little bitch,” Tommy sighed, and you could hear a mixture of disappointment and fondness in his voice.

You didn’t respond, and the topic dropped.

When you woke up in the morning, it was with the groan of a headache and a sore back. Tommy’s couch wasn’t uncomfortable per se, but it was bad enough to have you holding your back as you slowly sat up. The sunlight streaming in through the blinds made you wish that you had sunglasses, or some form of lightswitch to just shut the sun off. You grabbed your phone, sighing as you unlocked it. There were probably a hundred texts just from Wilbur, along with a few missed calls from the morning. As you scrolled and started reading the texts, another call came through. You huffed, setting your phone down and letting the call ring out.

“It’s been doing that all morning,” Molly hummed, emerging from the kitchen. She set a mug in front of you, and you took it thankfully.

“And here I was hoping to forget last night,” you chuckled bitterly.

She sighed, “He won’t let that happen. He feels like shit. He was on call with Tom for like an hour. Probably just got off, if anything.”

“Did he tell him I was here?”

“No,” she chuckled, “I wouldn’t let him. Figured you’d be too hungover to actually be able to handle that.”

“Thank you,” you sighed, running a hand through your hair, “You wouldn’t happen to have painkillers, do you?”

She nodded, standing and coming back with a small bottle in her hand. You took it from her gratefully, taking two and setting the bottle back on the table.

Tommy walked out, smiling a bit, “Well, I finally got Wilbur to calm down a bit. He knows your safe, but he’ll probably keep texting you until he heads to his office.”

You nodded, opening your phone and turning on Do Not Disturb, “Do you know when he’ll get to the office?”

Tommy shook his head, “Not sure. He won’t stream until later for sure, if he does, but I know he had editing to deal with and some band stuff.”

“Isn’t that stuff he could do from home?” “Possibly? Can’t say for sure.”

You nodded, sighing softly. You wanted to go home, take a shower and eat the pint of ice cream you had in the back of the freezer. “Is there anyway you can get him out of the apartment so I can sneak back in?”

Tommy frowned, “That bad?”

“I just don’t think I can do it today. I can talk to him tomorrow, but today is too much.”

Tommy nodded, “I can text him, see if he wants to get coffee or something?”

“Please, if you can.”

Tommy grabbed his phone, calling Wilbur.

“Hey, Will, any updates?” He asked, giving an overexaggerated wink to you and Molly. Molly stifled a laugh, and you gave a bit of a smile. You couldn’t quite make out what Wilbur was saying, but Tommy was responding a moment later.

“Well, I’m sure they’ll respond soon. They’re probably still asleep, mate. You might need a distraction.”

A chuckle, and a nervous glance towards you and Molly.

“Yeah, no, I just mean like, we could grab coffee or something. A little pick me up since you’re all upset.”

Tommy listened closely for a moment then seemed to relax, giving you a thumbs up. You relaxed and stood, letting him finish the conversation while you went to splash some water on your face. God, you looked fucking rough. You ran your hands through your hair to try and fix it up a bit, though there wasn’t much of a success there. You used cool water to try and lessen the bloat of your cheeks, sighing when you didn’t have much of progress there either.

You sighed, walking back out of the bathroom. Tommy was stood up, pulling his shoes on.

“Molly and I are going to head there, and we’ll text you whenever he’s there. My spare is under the mat, so just lock the door and put the key back once you’re done, alright?”

You nodded, “Thanks again, Tommy.”

He nodded, “it’s no problem. Try and talk to him when you can, alright? He’s genuinely upset over whatever happened.” “I will.”

You did not end up talking to Wilbur. Not that day nor the day after. Every time you thought about it, you just felt sick to your stomach. You snuck in the apartment with Tommy’s help, using the time he was out of the apartment to grab some food to keep in your room, and then you just used your room like a shelter. You heard Wilbur come back. You knew that he knew you got home: your shoes were left by the door and your keys hung up on the rack. But he didn’t try to say anything.

Until the day after. He was usually asleep when you left for work, and you assumed the same was true that day. After you came back from work, you snuck past his room, moving quickly to your own in case he heard. An hour after, you heard him knocking on your door, quietly asking if you were there.

You didn’t answer.

The next two days were a complete repeat. Sneaking out, avoiding him when you got back, ignoring him when he tried to talk. You don’t even know why you were so against talking to him. You wanted to fix it; you couldn’t stand living like this, and you wanted your best friend back. It hurt, though, because every time you thought about him, you thought about the fight. He was a bit drunk, and he always was a bit loose-lipped when drunk, but you couldn’t wrap your mind around why. Why he said those things, why he cared so much about some harmless flirting. You know he didn’t actually think you were someone who slept around or something, but it hurt nonetheless. You were banging your head against a wall trying to understand why he said those things, and it had you grasping at straws, questioning if you two were as close as you thought. You honestly just didn’t know what to think.

You needed to get out of the apartment. You felt a knot in your throat at the idea of going there. So you didn’t.

After work, you just went to the pub. It was the same one from that night, but you just sat at the bar and drank a bit, trying to get your mind off… everything. Your head was swirling with thoughts about the fight, about how much you love Wilbur, about how much you thought he hated you. You didn’t keep track of how much you were drinking. You didn’t feel it at first either. Not until you could barely keep your head up, words slurred as you closed your tab. You stood up, stumbling over your own feet and falling directly into a familiar friend.

“Y/N?” Tommy asked, holding your arms to steady you.

You smiled, blinking a bit as your eyes focused on him, “‘ey, Toms, w’as up?”

His face was full of concern. You found it funny, giggling to yourself as he spoke, “Are you alright?”

You gave him a thumbs up, giggling out, “Mmhm, I’m fuckin’ fantastic.”

“You are fucked, mate, where’s Wilbur?”

You pouted a bit, “He’s at home, like a loser. Di’n’t wanna be invitin’ him for our first conversation since- yeah.”

Tommy’s eyes widened a bit, and he sighed, ruffling a hand through his hair, “Alright, stay here. I’m gonna tell my mates something, and then I’ll be right back, okay? Have you drank water?”

You shook your head, and he nodded again, walking up to the bar where you’d just been and ordering a water.

“Wait for the water for me, and I’ll be right back, okay?”

You nodded, and he walked away quickly. You turned back towards the bar, waiting patiently, oh so patiently, for the water Tommy had ordered. You could understand why he seemed concerned, but it didn’t really cut through the haze in your mind. You were fine. You couldn’t see straight or stand straight, but you were fine. Everything was so, so perfectly fine. The bartender gave you the water, and you took it, holding it carefully for Tommy. He’s such a nice person, he deserved nice things. When he came back, he took your arm, guiding you outside.

“Here, take a seat,” he helped you sit down against the wall, pulling his phone out.

“I got your water,” you hummed, holding up the glass.

He chuckled softly, “it’s for you, drink it. I need to make a call.”

You nodded, taking a sip. He stayed stood up as he made a call, words hushed just enough so you couldn’t hear them. Not that you were really able to focus on it much anyway. Your head felt light, but your body felt heavy. Everytime you touched your skin, it felt like it wasn’t your own hands touching you, every nerve felt separated from yourself. Most of all, you were tired. You wanted to sleep. Your head hung forward, and you let your eyes slip closed for a few minutes, just to rest them.

You weren’t allowed to for long. Tommy gently shook your arm. It felt like a sick parallel of just a few nights ago.

“Hey, don’t fall asleep on me, alright? I’ll get you home soon.”

You groaned softly but nodded nonetheless.

He sighed, crouching in front of you, “make sure you drink that water alright? Not too fast though.”

You gave him a thumbs up, this one weaker than before. You took another sip of the water, rubbing your face a bit.

“Did you tell anyone that you were even coming here?”

“Nope,” you hummed, popping the ‘p’. “Too- too sad.”

“Too sad?” He frowned, “Is this because the whole Wilbur thing?”

You nodded, and you couldn’t fight the slight tears brimming your eyes, “I just… I don’t get why. I-” you choked on a weak sob, head falling forward again as you quietly admitted, “I love him. So, so much, Tommy.”

You could hear Tommy let out a hiss of air, almost a gasp, gently placing a hand on your shoulder, “I really think you need to talk to him. It won’t be an excuse, but I think you’ll understand it.”

“I want to, I-I’m just scared.”

“What are you scared of?”

“I’m scared that forgiving him means accepting how in love with him I am, because I know it’s hopeless. I’m scared of forgiving him and signing away my heart to someone who- who just won’t love me back,” you felt less coherent than you spoke, the drunkenness letting out slurred words you’d never let pass your lips otherwise.

Tommy frowned, pulling you into a hug as you sniffled.

“I just-” you sobbed quietly, “I feel so stupid.”

“You’re not stupid,” Tommy spoke, rubbing your back gently, “It is scary to love someone, but it’s not a bad thing. I really think you should just talk to him, I think-”

“Tommy?”

Your heart dropped in your chest slightly upon hearing Wilbur’s voice. Tommy let go of you, standing back up to head over to Wilbur. You took the time to wipe the small tears on your face, brushing off your temporary bout of sadness. Tommy spoke to Wilbur for a moment, and you fought the urge to hang your head again. Quite poorly you fought that urge, letting your head lull slightly, the exhaustion coming in full force. You heard feet shuffling, and you could see Wilbur’s usual Docs in front of you. He crouched down, one hand gently coming onto your cheek.

“Hey, darling,” he spoke in a hushed tone, similar to how one would speak to a wounded animal, “are you feeling alright?”

You hated that you leaned into his touch, even in you didn’t have much control over your body right now. “‘M fine,” you hummed out.

He frowned, clearly not believing that, “Let’s get you home, alright?”

As much as you wanted to fight going back to the apartment with him, nothing seemed better right now than lying in your bed rather than on the cold ground. You nodded, and he carefully helped you up. You immediately stumbled, but he was quick to hold you against his side.

“I got you, it’s alright,” he hummed, pulling you into his side. He gave Tommy a bit of a wave, humming out a thank you to him, before he started walking you both home.

The ground was swaying – or were you swaying – underneath you, and you groaned softly, leaning into his side.

“I know, I know,” he hummed softly, “if you need me to carry you, just let me know, okay?”

You snorted. “I’m fine, Wilbur,” you spoke with a slur, dragging out the word ‘fine’.

It made him giggle a bit, and honestly, fuck him for letting out such a beautiful sound, “I know you are. You’re just a bit silly right now, hm?”

“I’m always silly, actually, you’re just a lil bitch.”

He laughed, holding you closer, “I know I am, trust me. I very much am a ‘lil bitch’.”

You hummed, nodding, “Glad you know it.” You couldn’t stop the words that came out next, “you’re my lil bitch.”

If you’d been looking at his face, you probably would’ve caught the slight flush that covered his cheeks.

“Yeah,” he hummed, “I am.”

You gave an affirmative nod, leaning your head on his shoulder slightly as you looked up at the world.

“Wilbur.”

“Yes?”

“The lights are moving.”

He snorted softly, “What do you mean, darling?”

“The streetlights are moving.”

He hummed, nodding and stopping walking. “Did that fix it?”

You glared at the streetlamps, trying to determine if they were pretending to be still, “A little, but I think they’re lying about it.”

He started walking again, chuckling, “Oh, they are?”

“Yeah,” you hummed, “Government conspiracy, innit?”

He laughed, nodding thoughtfully, “Yeah, must be. Don’t look at them too much, alright?”

“Why? Scared they’ll start running after us?”

“No,” he laughed, “Just don’t need you throwing up on the street.”

“I’ll throw up wherever I please, actually.”

“Oh, do you need to?” He asked, concerned suddenly.

“No,” you huffed, “I have a gut of steel.”

“We both know that’s not true,” He noted, relieved once again.

“How dare you, actually, that is so rude. I’m going to throw up on your shoes as protest.”

“I’d very much prefer you didn’t.” “Mm. Don’t care. You’ve shamed me,” you giggled, “The shoes will pay for it.”

He chuckled, “I sincerely apologize, darling. Will that save the shoes?”

“Hmmm,” you pretended to think. “Well, darling,” you mocked, “that will save them, but only for now. They’re on thin ice.”

He grinned, walking up to the front of your apartment building and pulling out his keys, “You ready to walk up the stairs?”

You groaned, “Why did we get an apartment on the third floor? This is a curse.”

“You got this. I can always carry you.”

“I can do it, the stairs are just evil.”

“They are evil, but you can conquer them,” he smiled, holding you tighter as he helped you manuver the stairs.

“This sucks,” you groaned, trying to focus on your steps and nearly failing each time.

“We’re about half way, love. You still feeling alright? Wanna stop for a moment?”

“If I stop,” you paused, “I will not continue.”

He chuckled, “Alright, good to know.”

You both continued walking up, slower than usual to make up for the fact that you could barely see straight. He helped you every step of the way, taking his time to make sure you’d be alright, which you were thankful for given the amount of times you were tripping over your feet. You finally made it up to the door, fighting the urge to just lean against it as Wilbur unlocked the door. All the movement was making you feel a bit off and even more tired before. Wilbur guided you to through the door to your room.

He carefully sat you down on your bed, “Stay here, I’ll grab some water, alright?”

You nodded, eagerly sitting on your bed. You relaxed on the bed, pulling your phone and wallet out of your pocket and setting them on your nightstand. Wilbur walked back in, setting the glass of water and a pack of painkillers on your nightstand. He grabbed the wastebin, setting it next to the bed.

“Feeling any better?” He asked softly.

You nodded, but you paused, actually taking a moment to focus on how you actual felt. Your throat felt slightly closed, and your mouth was salivating. And your stomach felt rough. Oh fuck. You leaned over, spilling the contents of your stomach into the waistbin. Wilbur rushed over to clear your hair out of your face, gently rubbing your back as you threw up. You panted softly, gripping the edge of the bed. You cursed softly, wiping at your mouth.

Wilbur stood, bringing you the water. You drank it thankfully while he walked out for a moment.

He came back in with a big hoodie and a pair of shorts, and you looked down and noticed the vomit on your shirt and pants. You felt exhausted. You groaned softly, slowly getting up and taking the clothes thankfully, walking to the bathroom to change quickly. You only noticed it was his clothing after you already got dressed, and you did not feel like changing again either. You shuffled out, walking back to the bed. Wilbur was sat, waiting for you. You sat next to him, lying down with your head next to his lap. You wanted to rest your head on his lap, craving the comfort he brings you, but you felt wary to do so. Regardless, he brought a hand down, gently playing with your hair.

“I know we should talk about this more in the morning, but…” he sighed softly, “I really am sorry for what I said the other night. I just- I wasn’t thinking, and I was just drunk and upset. These are all just… excuses, but I… I really am sorry.”

“I know,” you murmured softly, “I knew it was just you being drunk, but… I just didn’t understand why and I was scared you hated me.” You spoke quietly, moving your head onto his thigh, solely so you could hide your face against his chest.

He shifted to move your head fully into his lap. “I could never hate you. I-I have a reason, but it doesn’t excuse what I did or said.”

“What’s the reason?”

He frowned, biting his lip and going silent for a moment, “I… can it wait until morning? I think I may only be able to say it once.” You felt the pit in your stomach drop, but you nodded nonetheless, burying your face further into his stomach.

“I’m sorry,” he continued, “that I brought you to this. Hiding and getting drunk and just… recklessness, I guess. I was really scared when Tommy called me.”

“I’s not your fault,” you sighed softly, “I just didn’t know what to do, I chose to do this. I could’ve just talked to you.”

“You could’ve, sure, but I was… a dick. I don’t blame you for being scared to talk to me. I said horrible stuff. I have no control over who you talk to or decide to flirt with, and it was entitled of me to even act like I do.”

You sighed, yawning quietly. You wrapped your arms around his torso gently, relaxing into him. You could feel the exhaustion taking over, eyelids heavy.

You spoke quietly, “I was only flirting,” you mumbled, “to try and get over you.”

He tensed, but you didn’t hear his next words, sleep taking you like you ached to take Wilbur’s hand.

In the morning, you were overwhelmed with a feeling of dread, created by a mixture of the hangover and the remembering. Shockingly, you weren’t alone. You thought once your words had processed to Wilbur, he’d have left you. Instead, you were pressed against his chest, cuddled into him. You could tell he was awake – could feel his hand gently carding through your hair – but for a moment, you just wanted to pretend. After whatever conversation was coming up, you didn’t know if you’d ever get to be wrapped up in his arms like this again. Not to mention, opening your eyes meant an imminent headache due to the daylight. So for a few minutes, you just tried to gain some comfort from this and ignore the growing dread.

But you couldn’t pretend forever.

“Darling?” Wilbur whispered, “Are you awake?”

You sighed, groaning lightly as you nodded, “yeah.”

“How are you feeling?”

You whined softly, chuckling a bit, “Like shit.”

He chuckled softly, “I have water and painkillers, you want them?”

You nodded, and he shifted up, grabbing them from the nightstand without pushing you out of his arms. You still had to eventually, sitting up to take the painkiller and drink some of the water. You opened your eyes, and you were thankful to find that the room wasn’t as bright as you had thought it would be. You saw Wilbur watching you with concern, one hand gently rubbing your back. You set the water down, sighing softly after.

He bit his lip before speaking, “Do you… want to talk now or when the painkiller has kicked in?”

The question you were dreading. Better to just rip the bandaid off. “Now.”

He nodded, shifting and gently taking your hand.

“Last night, you said… you were flirting to try and get over me. What did you mean by that?”

You gulped softly, closing your eyes to brace yourself for the potential rejection, “Wilbur, I… I’ve liked you for months now. And I thought I’d get over it, but it just- it just got stronger. I’m sorry if it makes you uncomfortable, and I understand if you want me to move out or something. But I wanted to at least try to flirt and see if I could get over you, and it just didn’t work. So, that’s- that’s why. I wanted to get over the crush I have on you.”

He didn’t respond for a while, and you kept your eyes closed, taking a shaky breath while you waited for him to respond.

“What if… I didn’t want you to get over it?”

Your eyes flew open, looking up at him quickly. He had a shy expression, a faint blush on his cheeks. “What do you mean by that?”

He sighed, squeezing your hand a bit tighter, “I got mad at you flirting because I was jealous. I’ve liked you for a really long time, but I didn’t want to say anything because I was scared to lose our friendship and my roommate. I asked to kiss you that night while we were drunk because I figured it’d be my only chance to ever get to kiss you. But if you’re telling me that isn’t true? Darling, I’d do anything just to feel your lips on mine again, let alone to get the chance to date you and make you happy.”

Oh. Oh.

You moved a hand up, gently cupping his cheek. He leaned into you, and you leaned forward, pulling him in for a gentle kiss. He let out a quiet gasp, kissing you back lovingly, his other hand coming to wrap around your back. The kiss was short lived, but only so he could pull away to speak, foreheads still pressed together.

“Darling, can I,” he paused, taking a quick breath, “Will you do me the honor of being mine?”

You chuckled softly, nodding, “It’d be the greatest gift I could ask for.”

He grinned, pulling you in for another kiss, this one stronger and… just.

You didn’t have the words to really describe it. It felt warm. Like daylight resting on your skin on a spring day. The warmth that felt like home. Like pulling clothes out the dryer and just holding them close for a moment. The warmth that came from laughter and telling stories in the middle of a summer night. It was golden.

When he pulled away, you two stayed close, panting lightly for a moment. When you finally separated fully, his arms were coming to wrap around you once more, hugging you tightly.

“And here I was thinking that I’d lose you when I confessed.”

You hummed softly, “I thought the same.”

He smiled, pressing a kiss to the top of your head, “Well you didn’t. And I didn’t lose you. Don’t worry, either, I’ll be taking you on a proper date once you’re feeling better. For now… cereal date?”

“Hm,” you thought, “Can it be a cereal date in bed?”

He chuckled, “Absolutely it can be, my love.”

#wilbur soot x reader #wilbur soot #mar writes #mcyt x reader #lovejoy #dsmp x reader #wilbur x reader #mcyt x you #wilbur soot x you #wilbur soot fanfiction #mcytumblr #mcyt wilbur

363 notes · View notes