#why is this the part that made me emotional

[alittlebitofsainz]

- just don’t want your friends to see -

prompt: “said you needed me, wanted to be with me, just don’t want your friends to see”

pairing: lando norris x reader

summary: the pressure of keeping the relationship a secret is getting to you both. is he ashamed of you? (everyone needs a little soft and reassuring lando in their lives every now and then)

a/n: can be considered a lil’ part two to told her you were just a friend. lyrics from ‘you to you’ by maisie peters :)

masterlist | the spotify wrapped collection

“hey, you guys, hope you haven’t been waiting long!”

your head turned to follow the sound of the voice, seeing max and his girlfriend pietra approaching, a few minutes late for lunch. you noticed lando doing the same, his fingers immediately disentangling from your own as soon as he spotted them, your hand feeling empty without his clasped around it as he took a step away from you. you knew you should be used to it by now, you’d both agreed that this was for the best, keeping your relationship in the shadows, locked behind closed doors. I want this relationship to be just ours, he’d said. it had sounded nice at the time, poetic, even, and you’d agreed, maybe a little too eagerly. but as you sat at lunch with max and pietra, perched awkwardly on the edge of your seat so as not to seem too close to lando, listening to him laugh off questions about his romantic life and saying he hadn’t really met anyone special yet - you had to admit that it stung. it stung the same way it did every time, and you found yourself unnaturally quiet throughout the meal, eyes flicking between person to person as the conversation continued around you.

if you’d thought it had gone unnoticed by lando, you thought wrong.

“baby, everything okay?”

even the pet name stung, the façade of ‘friendship’ falling by the wayside as soon as you made it back to lando’s apartment. just the two of you, a safe space, away from prying eyes and listening ears. you could be in a relationship again, having put it on pause for the time you were out in public.

you looked up, trying to plaster a fake smile across your face, the expression faltering slightly at the edges.

“yeah, fine. just tired, that’s all.” came your reply. but lando wasn’t stupid, and he wasn’t blind, either. you tried to escape through to the kitchen, but he wasn’t having any of that.

“y/n, I know you. I can tell you’re not fine. talk to me, please.”

the gentleness of his voice coaxed you to be honest, letting out a sigh as you turned to lean against the kitchen counter, facing him. you couldn’t quite meet his eyes, almost embarrassed. you’d both agreed on this - why were you suddenly feeling so upset about it all? you knew lando loved you, appreciated you, but something about the way he acted when the two of you were out in public, around colleagues, around friends, even, that just got to you.

“are you embarrassed of me?”

the words left your mouth before filtering through your brain first, and you regretted them immediately; the way lando’s face fell, pain and guilt etched across his features - you swore you would never forget it, and you never wanted to see it again.

“no, no. fuck, y/n, I could never be embarrassed of you.” his voice was strained as he took several paces towards you across the kitchen, casting a cautious gaze over you as he tried to decide whether to give you space or comfort. you felt emotions bubble up inside you, ones you’d been trying to keep hidden for months, for the sake of your relationship. you’d always worried that if you caused a fuss or spoke about your emotions in any way, it would push lando away. why would he want someone who was such a problem when he could have pretty much anyone he wanted? it was irrational and you knew it, but keeping it inside for so long, unable to talk to anyone about it…? well, it had festered in your mind until it had taken over.

“I just feel like that’s why you don’t wanna tell your friends about me…” you eventually said, voice coming out as more of a whimper than you’d intended. lando closed the remaining space between you, hesitating for split second before taking your hands in his, his eyes searching yours imploringly.

“baby, I’m sorry if I’ve ever made you feel like that.” his voice was firm, filled with conviction and sincerity, but also tinged with a hint of emotion, upset that he’d ever hurt the person in his life that he cared the most about, “I swear, I never meant to. I’m so sorry.”

“it’s just difficult.” you murmured in reply, relishing the feeling of your hands being in his once again as you dropped your gaze down to look at them. “I feel like I’m always acting in public, like I can’t relax. and I can’t even talk to anyone about it.”

“I wish you’d talk to me.” lando’s voice was equally as quiet as yours, his tone so genuine that you couldn’t help but relax just a little, fears of pushing him away by being too honest dissipating by the second. he reached a hand up to cup your cheek, and it was only when he brushed a thumb across your skin to wipe away a tear that you realised you’d started crying.

“really?” you blinked up at him with wide, watery eyes. “I thought you wouldn’t wanna hear about it.”

he took your face in both hands, eyebrows curved up into a soft frown. “why would you think that? is it… is it something I said? something I did?” you could tell he meant it genuinely, but it made you realise just how irrational you were being. nothing lando had ever said or done had given you any indication that he wouldn’t want to hear your thoughts, your concerns, the things that made you upset. you were still navigating things, but you were beginning to realise that this was someone who you could really open up to. someone who cared about you. you shook your head, brushing away your own tears with the palm of your hand, letting out a wet chuckle.

“no, no. you didn’t do anything wrong. I was just being stupid.” you admitted, but now it was lando’s turn to shake his head.

“you weren’t being stupid.” he murmured, dropping his hands from your face and instead wrapping them around your waist, drawing you into his chest as he placed delicate kisses to the top of your head. “nothing you feel is stupid. it’s not easy keeping us a secret, trust me, I know.” he sighed, resting his chin on your head as he held you close. “I’m not embarrassed of you, y/n, I’m just trying to protect you. people… they can be pretty crazy when it comes to people I date. I just wanna keep you away from that just a little longer.”

you nodded into his chest. deep down, you knew that. you just needed to hear it from him. you let out a soft, contented sigh, the sound mirrored by lando as he tightened his grip round you just a little. he didn’t want to lose you, especially not over something like this, a fact he told his mum on the phone later that night as he finally told her all about you.

the final part is out now :)

[rreids]

Hey love I have an ask bc I’ve been feeling super depressed lately and I haven’t wanted to get out of bed lol can you do a one shot when spencer leaves for the week on a case and comes home to the house a mess and the reader laying in bed crying and he makes her shower and eat and cuddles her

oh my love <3 i hope you are feeling a little better. please make yourself a nice warm drink and try to spend some time outside or doing something outside of bed, even if it's just five minutes <3 it's worth it, i promise — someone who also bed rots often

LITTLE BY LITTLE • S. REID X READER

hurt/comfort; reader in a depressive episode; mentions of emotional eating and food; perfect bf spencer; nonsexual nudity and intimacy; kisses; pet names; fluff; ~1k

Spencer being gone was normal, a common occurrence. You didn’t normally struggle when he was gone, but with a mix of bad days at work and him being gone, you could barely bring yourself to eat.

You liked to keep the house clean while he was gone so he’d have one less stressful thing to come back to. This time, it was a mess, clothes and food packaging left around. You’d raided the sweets stash, and made a mental note to replace his chocolate bars before he realized.

“Honey?” Spencer’s voice calls, and you blink away the sting of tears. You weren’t hydrated enough for more to roll down your cheeks, but you didn’t want to worry him. With a swipe of your (his) sweater sleeve, you work on rubbing away tear stains as he comes into the bedroom, tilting his head at the wrappers and mess on the nightstand. “You okay?”

You shake your head, not trusting your voice. “You’re home early,”

“It ended well,” he tells you, gathering the trash left sitting. He doesn’t even comment that his nice chocolate bars were clearly eaten. “How long have you been like this?”

“Few days, maybe?”

“Why didn’t you call?” He sighs. He sounds exasperated, but you know he’s not upset at you as he rubs a soothing hand over your cheek and lets you lean into him.

“I didn’t wanna worry you,” you mumble, voice muffled into his palm. You press a kiss to it, smiling softly when his fingers twitch at the ticklish sensation. “‘S okay.”

Spencer shakes his head adamantly, you know he disagrees. “Find some nice pajamas for me, okay? I’ll be right back.”

He comes back after throwing out the trash. “I put some water on. Tea or hot cocoa?”

“Tea,” you mumble, rubbing your throat.

“With honey. Don’t even try to tell me not to add it.” Spencer grabs the pajamas you scrounged up. “I’ll fluff these in the dryer, too. C’mon, gorgeous,”

He helps you stand and lets you curl into his side as he walks you into the bathroom and helps you undress, pressing a gentle kiss to your shoulder as he tugs the sweater off. You shiver at how cold the air is, and he reaches behind you to turn the water on and let it start to warm.

Spencer carefully brushes your hair out of your face with his fingers, frowning when you pull away a little. He doesn’t comment on it, just studying your face with his intent stare.

“Stop looking at me,” you mumble.

“Just trying to see if you’re okay, sweetheart,” he whispers, ghosting a kiss over your cheek. “You’ll tell me about it after. Do you want me to help you wash up?”

You pause. “Dunno.”

Spencer chuckles. “Ok, well, I’m gonna go start fluffing your clothes and put water in the kettle. Let me know when I get back?”

You nod, wrapping your arms around yourself as his movement creates a draft.

When he peeks back in, you’re staring at the water.

“You have to get in, honey,” he reminds you, voice sweet. It makes you feel like crying.

“I know. I think I’m okay.”

Spencer pauses as his mind processes what you’re responding to. “Okay. Take as long as you need. I’ll be waiting in the living room,”

The water is nice — heated exactly where you like it to be —, and you take much longer than normal letting it run over corded muscles and wash away your sadness as you get clean. It’s nice, and you know you’ll feel better when you get out. Part of you hates that, because it just makes another thing Spencer is right about (and he’s always right about things, so you pride yourself on the times you beat him). 

When you finally step out and towel dry, you find your warm clothes on the counter. He must’ve brought them in while you were distracted.

Finally dressed in clean clothes, you drop the dirty ones in the hamper and pad out to the living room.

Spencer is in comfortable clothes — a Washington DC hoodie, sweatpants, fluffy and mismatched socks — and his hair is no longer styled. That’s the first thing you notice. Then you notice the tea, the bowl of perfectly cut-up fruit, and the spread of cheese, crackers, and lunch meat.

“Figured you wouldn’t want a full meal,” he tells you, patting his thigh. You walk over and settle on him gently, squeaking in surprise when he pulls you into him more tightly and presses kisses on your face until you squirm from the contact, giggling. “C’mon, open,”

He taps the strawberry piece to your lips and you roll your eyes as you eat it.

“I love you, you know that?”

“‘Course I do, Spence,” you tell him, voice soft and scratchy.

“Then tell me. Please? Me not knowing you’re upset hurts more than being unable to be here for you. I can at least call you and leave voicemails or talk you through stuff.”

You sigh, shoulders dropping. “But you’re busy and dealing with hard stuff already.”

“And I will always choose to deal,” he says the word like it’s poisonous, “with what you are struggling with first. I signed up to be your number one supporter. Always,”

He hands you your tea and waits for you to finish drinking before he takes it and sets it back down. He holds your hands, rubbing his thumb over the back.

“Okay? Tell me.”

“Okay.”

Spencer smiles and relaxes, kissing you more gently. “Now eat up, sweetheart. It’s all for you.”

You whine at that, and he cuts you off with a stern look.

“My chocolate bars are not proper sustenance for an adult of your—”

“Spencer.” You mumble, picking up a grape. “Shut up. I’ll eat.”

He smiles, pleased, and leans his head on your shoulder. It should be weird, him watching you eat, but it fills you with warmth and happiness as he traces aimless shapes on your thigh and makes sure you’re okay.

title is bc: little by little you will be okay. i know you will. we all will be.

[beenbaanbuun]

Hey!! I just read your most recent Addams!MATZ fic and the angst is DELICIOUS. Your talent for writing is incredible and your creativity really shines through with each and every fic. The fluff, angst, and even the smut are so wonderfully well done, you're one of my favorite ATEEZ writers.

If you're up to it, and feel free to ignore this, but I'd love to see a part two to the angst Addams!MATZ where seonghwa talks to hongjoong and hongjoong comes to apologize. If that's not something you see yourself continuing, I completely understand!

Make sure to keep yourself healthy and hydrated and get plenty of rest.

thank you for the compliments!!! they mean the world to me. i’m glad that my passion for writing and my love for these boys shines through in my work. here is a continuation <333

——————————————————————————

seonghwa doesn’t even bother to knock before barging into his husbands office. yes, he thinks anger is an ugly emotion, but that doesn’t mean he is immune to it. in fact, it’s the only thing running through him as he steps through the doorway and slams the heavy slab of oak behind him. hongjoong hasn’t shown you the courtesy of being polite; why should seonghwa show his husband the same.

upon hearing the bang of the door, the overworked businessman turns around, pen still in hand and glasses low on his nose. he was half expecting to see your feisty little self again, but instead he’s met with the sight of his husband. if it weren’t for the sneer that twisted up his husbands pretty face, he might’ve explained the same thing he’d tried explaining to you. something tells him that seonghwa wouldn’t have appreciated being told ‘i’m busy, i’ll come and talk to you when i’m finished designing these pieces.’

“what’s wr—” hongjoong doesn’t even get to finish before seonghwa cuts him off with a scoff and a petty roll of the eyes. it’s hardly like him to wear his emotions on his sleeve, and yet hongjoong can see each one of them clear as day. hurt, anger, disappointment; emotions that he never wants anyone he cares about to feel. his heart sinks just a touch as he realises who those emotions are aimed towards.

“you are a piece of work, hongjoong,” seonghwa spits, sounding beautiful even with venom laced through his voice. hongjoong knows that’s the last thing he should be thinking right now, but he can hardly help admiring his husband, even when he is seething. it takes the man a second or two to knock himself free of the love-induced haze and allow the words to sink in. “do you think you’re in the right for yelling at our darling? do you think that just because you’re overworking yourself it gives you the right to make her cry?”

hongjoong’s world comes to a standstill. the clock on the wall stops ticking, the heart in his chest stops beating, and most importantly, for the first time in weeks, the brain in his head stops thinking. finally, finally, it’s no longer filled with a myriad of complex ideas, each one overlapping yet individual in its own right. finally he just has one singular thought. it’s just a shame it isn’t a good one.

he made you cry…

hongjoong made you cry…

it repeats in his head, over and over like a mantra. it taunts him, the idea that he’d upset you so much feeling like nails on a chalkboard. his hairs stand on end and his breath catches in his throat. lord below, what has he done.

“where is she?” his voice is weak, pathetic, nothing like he usually sounds. seonghwa has to admit that his resolve takes a hit when he hears it leave his loves mouth. he reminds himself to remain strong; your pain is his priority right now. “seonghwa, please—”

“take a guess, hongjoong,” seonghwa replies, once again cutting his husband off. this time it wasn’t out of anger but of fear that he might cave if he has to listen to hongjoong’s heartbroken pleas for much longer. the pained look on his face is enough to send seonghwa’s heart into overdrive; he doesn’t need any more distractions from the real reason he’s here. “where might you usually find her when she isn’t with one of us?”

the rug in front of the fire—jongho.

hongjoong almost feels ashamed that he even had to ask; he should’ve realised the second you silently left his office that you’d gone to seek comfort in your favourite onikuma. realistically, though, he should’ve realised a lot of things. it hurts him to know that he was too focused on work to do so.

he stands, and he’s grateful when seonghwa shifts to the side to allow him past, even going as far as to re-open the heavy door for him. hongjoong isn’t quite sure he deserves the soft hand that’s placed against his back as he walks through the doorway, but he appreciates it nonetheless. now isn’t the time to be wondering how he ended up with such a beautiful individual as a soulmate, but he finds himself lingering on that thought as the two of them begin their journey to the living room. it’s hard not to when the warmth of seonghwa’s touch never once leaves him.

in fact, it’s only when the two of them step through the archway that seonghwa gives a small shove to the bottom of hongjoong’s spine before going to reclaim his spot on the couch. with a single nod in your direction, seonghwa redirects his husband’s attention and hongjoong lets his gaze flicker to the floor.

the first thing he’s met with is a glare from the mutt he’d been so reluctant to allow into his abode. normally, the beast would be scolded for being so bold as to openly disrespect his master, but he let it slide this time. he can hardly tell him not to give him the attitude he so clearly deserves. in fact, this is light compared to what he would’ve expected from the overprotective creature.

at least hongjoong knows he’ll make a wonderful guard dog…

“dove,” hongjoong coos softly as he dips down to your level. he can’t remember the last time he’d sat on the floor, but this feels necessary. the closeness is something that he finds himself craving, wanting nothing more than to have you next to him again. he won’t lie and claim that the sole purpose of this is to comfort you; he needs it too, to stave off the guilt that has begun to eat him alive. “can you look at me?”

there’s a certain element of pain in his voice that tells you he’s being sincere. that he truly does feel remorse for how he treated you. whether or not it’s seonghwa that forced it upon him, you don’t particularly care. all you want is to feel hongjoong’s warmth again, so you listen. you turn your head until your watery eyes meet his.

“there she is,” he gives you a humourless chuckle, a sad smile twisting the corners of his mouth up and the corners of his eyebrows down. the warmth of his hand as he places it on your cheek is comforting; more so than any words he could say. you just need him close. he seems to realise that as he turns to the werewolf, dangerously aware of the way his ears twitch angrily above his head. “may i take her, yeosang? i promise i’ll be gentle with her.”

“you weren’t gentle with her earlier,” yeosang growls, behaving more akin to what hongjoong expects from him. it almost has hongjoong flinching back in fear of yet another bite-shaped bruise on his hand.

“that’s true, but i would like i make it up to her,” hongjoong is soft as he speaks, less so for the sake of the angry mutt, and more for the sake of you. he doesn’t want you to see any more anger from him. “besides i really think it should be my little dove’s decision as to whether i get to hold her, don’t you?” yeosang snarls, huffing in dismay as he unravels his arms from you and lets hongjoong swoop you into his. manipulation never really has been the man’s style, but he has to admit that it works wonders with the mutt. use you as leverage, and yeosang will behave like a fully trained lapdog. he’s just like them in that respect; so desperate to make you happy that they’d risk everything, dignity included.

it’s not hard for you to let yourself be passed around like some kind of teddy bear as a pose to a real, living human. you’re tired from crying, not to mention desperate for the confirmation that you’re still hongjoong’s good girl. in fact, as hongjoong tugs you into his grasp like a rag doll, you find yourself leaning into his grasp. it’s so soft compared to his sharp words and cutting tone earlier, and his familiar scent of spices fills your nostrils. it dizzies you, but hongjoong is there to catch you…

“i’m sorry,” he whispers into your ear as he pulls you up to straddle his crossed legs, “my darling dove, will you forgive me?”

you don’t answer. you don’t find it necessary to. the way you see it there’s nothing to forgive; you annoyed him, he yelled at you. it’s give and take, and despite your emotions getting the better of you, you refuse to place the blame on hongjoong. not all of it, at least.

“only if you forgive me too,” is the answer you finally settle on, mumbling it into his neck. he squirms a little at the tickling sensation, and in your own mind, you find yourself thinking he’s cute.

“you have nothing to forgive, my dove,” he answers, “but if it will make you forgive me, then yes; i forgive you…”

[reiding-writing]

Hiiii, first of all i wanna say congratsss!! You’re an amazing writer and i LOVE your stuff! Secondly, i would like to mention that i’ve never actually made a request before so bear with me 😬 Okay okay, so i was wondering if you could write cold!reader with angsty prompt 28. "I can't believe I didn't see that coming." and general prompt 23. “I thought I’d lost you.” Maybe spencer gets hurt and reader shows emotion (maybe some tears) and the team is all like ???

(feel free to ignore this btw 💗💗)

CLOSE CALL [CLIMACTERIC]

28. “I can’t believe I didn’t see that coming.”

23. “I thought I’d lost you.”

WARNINGS: fem!reader, guns, hostage situation, character death, reader is her typical rash self, happy ending

spencer reid x cold!reader || hurt/comfort || 2.8k ||

a/n: thank you <3 i’m honoured to be the conduit you chose for your first request and i hope this is what you envisioned 🫶

main masterlist!! ⋆｡°✩ cold!reader masterlist!!

event masterlist!!

Spencer’s hands shake so much as he pulls off his bulletproof vest you’re not sure how he has enough articulation in his fingers to do so in the first place.

“Reid, you’re not ready to do this.” You’re words aren’t as harsh as they are truthful, but it cuts him down the same anyhow. “Let me or Hotch do it.”

“No, I need to do this myself,” Spencer shakes his head determinedly, and if he wasn’t so focused on the sheer amount of adrenaline running through his veins right no he’d probably be proud of himself for standing up to you and not just following your word as law, but alas, the only thing he could feel right now is absolute dread. “He won’t listen to you.”

Why was it always him that got personally involved with the unsubs? It was like they were a heat-seeking missile locked only onto his location.

Literally locked onto his location in this case. He’d seen him —Daniel as he called himself— on the train home from work, in the coffee shop he frequented, the local library, and he swears he also saw him parked in his apartment building’s parking lot.

It was like he was silently screaming at Spencer to notice him, and when he finally got to speak to the man, he asked for help. He was afraid. He was afraid of himself because he was having horribly intrusive thoughts that made him want to do terrible things and he viewed Spencer as his only scapegoat. Pros and cons of being all over the news for his job he supposes.

Spencer really did try to help him, but every suggestion he made was shut down like they weren’t good enough, like Daniel wanted Spencer to physically go into his brain and remove all of the faulty parts that were making him feel insane.

Spencer’s help just wasn’t good enough, and it lead to multiple people dying as a result.

And now Daniel was holding a woman hostage in her own house.

How was he supposed to not feel solely responsible for that?

Spencer had to be the one to speak to him. Not you or Hotch and your negotiation training, him and his personal connection to all the deaths that had happened because he wasn’t able to help someone that was begging him to save them from their own mind.

He practically shoves his revolver into your hand as he commits to going inside, taking a second to regulate his breathing before emerging from behind the SUVs to approach the closed front door, leaving you all in wait, guns raised at every window in the event that something goes wrong.

Something was bound to go wrong.

“Reid the minute that something feels off you leave, understand?” It technically wasn’t your call to make, but as you spoke into the small radio on your chest you weren’t really thinking about that. It’s not like Hotch would disagree with you anyway.

There’s a few seconds of silence over the radio, even though you know he heard you from the slight jolt in his spine as he reached the front door of the house. “Reid. Tell me that you understand that.”

“Copy,”

You had half the mind to drag him back into the car from that response alone. He clearly wasn’t listening to you, not properly anyway, and having such an emotional involvement in something like this was going to get him killed if he treated it the wrong way.

“Be careful,” Hotch was less antagonistic in his warning, but it held the same message.

Spencer threw an arbitrary thumbs up above his head before knocking on the door of the house and entering slowly with both his arms raised.

Then it was a waiting game. A stalemate where you had to sit with your guns trained and just wait for any sign of change. It was like absolute torture.

It was virtual silence and tumble weeds for the best of five minutes, and then there was a loud gunshot sound that echoed from inside the walls of the house, and all of that waiting felt for naught as you pressed the button on your radio with a steady stream of trepidation raising in your throat that he might not answer you. “Reid? Reid come in.”

You wait for something to come from the other side of the radio, even if it’s just the crackle of static from him pressing the button without actually speaking into it. But all you get is silence, and it makes that sinking feeling grow until you literally feel like you’re about to throw up your stomach.

You don’t think twice about running towards the front door of the house after you don’t get an answer, ignoring the calls of Hotch for you to back down and let SWAT take care of it so he didn’t possibly lose two agents instead of just one.

He knew you weren’t going to listen to him either way.

You open the door with your pistol raised at your eyes, the weight of Spencer’s revolver tucked into the waistband of your jeans acting both as an instrument to ground you and as a torturous reminder that the gunshot you heard couldn’t have possibly been from him.

It had to have come from Daniel.

Logically you should’ve swept the ground floor first before rushing straight into the dining room where you knew the three had been last, in case Daniel had left the room and approached you from behind.

You don’t of course, and you kick open the barricaded dining room door with enough force to splinter the door frame holding the hinge pin in place, the door hitting the wall with a thud.

The sight you’re met with is not what you expected to find.

“Reid—” You drop your gun to your side the second your eyes land on the back of his head, his back to you and his eyes locked on Daniel, lying on his back on the dining room floor with a bullet hole to the side of his head, his blood slowly pooling on the linoleum.

The woman he had hostage was alive too, thank god, practically trying to melt into the corner as she cried into her hands, obviously still in shock over what happened.

“I can’t believe I didn’t see that coming,” Spencer’s words didn’t feel like they were coming from himself as he spoke, his voice feeling detached from his consciousness as his mind focused on fully comprehending the situation.

“I can’t believe how stupid you are—” Your body forces a sharp breath to leave your mouth as it cools don from the adrenaline rushing through your system, and you pull Spencer backwards by his arm to stop the blood from Daniel’s body reaching his shoes. “What the fuck were you thinking?”

“I just- I don’t know,” Spencer gives up on trying to find an explanation for his actions before even really thinking about it. He knows there’s no use, because he really wasn’t thinking, it was just acting on instinct.

“You see this Reid?” You give the radio on his chest a pull with your hand, causing him to stumble forward towards you in the process. “It’s a radio, use it.” There’s no denying the insurmountable rage in your tone as you berate Spencer for his carelessness, something that he most definitely deserves as he stands there nodding at you like an idiot.

You let go of his radio with a small push, sending him stumbling backwards this time, and you take a second to compose yourself before pressing on your own radio to communicate with the rest of the team. “I’ve got Reid and the hostage alive. The unsub shot himself.”

“Copy that, we’re coming in.”

Hotch’s voice may as well be a leaf in the wind as Spencer puts his full focus into how absolutely furious you seem with him.

“I’m sorry—”

”Sorry isn’t good enough.” You ignore the arrival of your teammates in the house, how they carefully guide the hostage outside to get her looked over by the ambulance waiting outside and how they secure the scene for the forensics team to deal with. “You cannot throw your life away by running head first into a dangerous situation knowing you can’t defend yourself.”

“I thought—”

“What? That it’d be fine? That you all of a sudden had all the training you needed to talk down an armed serial killer with serious delusions that could leave you as his next victim?” Maybe you we’re being a bit too harsh on him, but it was important he understood exactly what could’ve gone wrong. “You might be a genius Reid, but you are the dumbest goddamn person I have ever met.”

Spencer presses his lips together into a line at your declaration, lowering his head until his gaze is firmly planted on the floor.

“You are not an expendable resource, you can’t be replaced, and you need to understand that before you throw yourself into a possible line of fire do you understand me?” You ignore the lingering gaze of Hotch as you continue your verbal assault on Spencer, and you know you’ll probably get an earful yourself for being so hard on him, but he gave you a real scare, and you were expressing that to him in the way that suited you most.

“Yes I understand, I’m sorry…” The slight waver of his voice as he responds to you is enough to knock your anger down a peg, and you drag your hand down your face with a sigh.

“We were scared for you Reid, you could’ve died.”

“I know…”

You give another soft sigh at the voice he barely keeps his voice controlled as he whispers out his answer to you, on the verge of tears from your thorough verbal assault.

“Don’t do it again. I thought I’d lost you.” You lift up one of your hands to put it on his shoulder, although it lands closer to the curve of his neck, prompting his face upwards to meet your eyes once more. “And as much as you can be idiotic, the team needs you alive.”

He gives you a soft hum as an answer this time, not trusting his voice to not crack if he were to speak properly.

He tries not to focus on the warmth of your hand on his neck, nor on the fact that you’d said ‘I’ instead of ‘we’ when talking about being concerned for his safety under fear of only worsening his attempts at keeping himself composed.

Your gaze softens marginally as you spot the glassiness of his eyes, and for a second he swears that the protective shield you cover yourself with disappears to show the amount of concern you truly felt for him.

“I’m okay… I promise,” He nods softly at you with rounded eyes. He’s mildly flattered by how much you care, but he doesn’t want you to show it as concern, positive emotions suited you much better he thinks.

“You’re lucky, and it won’t last forever,” You use you hand against his shoulder to turn him around, pushing him gently towards the front door and using the opportunity of him not facing you to swallow the start of your own tears, clearing your throat into your elbow as he takes your lead in leaving the house.

“Reid,” Hotch is on top of the two of you before you even walk out the door. “Go and meet Morgan by the ambulance, I want you checked over,”

“But—“

“Go,” Hotch’s inherent ability to be authoritative trumps Spencer’s resistance immediately, and Spencer begrudgingly leaves your side with a small “yes sir,” to go and be checked out by one of the EMTs.

You attempt to follow him at first, but you’re promptly stopped by Hotch raising his hand in your direction, and then gesturing you over to him.

“Berating somebody for running into a dangerous situation head first with how you responded is very—“

“Hypocritical, I know,” You interrupt the end of Hotch’s sentence by finishing it yourself. “But if he hadn’t gotten into that situation in the first place then I wouldn’t have had to respond the way I did,”

“I understand you care about Reid,” Hotch crosses his arms over his chest, and although there is zero malice in his expression or his tone, you can still tell that he’s not exactly happy with you right now. “But you also need to be more careful with how you handle yourself,”

You narrow your gaze at him a little, and he mirrors it right back at you. “You can’t worry about keeping Reid alive if you’re not alive yourself, you need to be more careful, understand?”

“Yes sir,” The words are almost begrudging as they leave your mouth, but you know he’s right really. Running in after Spencer without a second thought and then berating him for being reckless was hypocritical, and you probably deserved to be reprimanded for it.

—

“You really gave her a scare you know,” Morgan speaks, prompted by Spencer’s very obvious lingering glances in your direction as you speak with Hotch.

“I know,” Spencer sighs dejectedly as he finally removes his eyes from you to allow the paramedic in front of him to check his pupillary response. “She made sure of that,”

“She cares about you Reid,” Morgan gives him a squeeze on his shoulder. “You’re gonna give the poor girl a heart attack if you keep this up,”

“That’s quite dramatic, the chances of somebody going into cardiac arrest from shock is extremely low, only 5% of all cases, and technically it would actually be cardiogenic shock, which isn’t a heart attack,”

“It’s a figure of speech Reid,” Morgan gives him a small playful shove after the paramedic has finished his evaluation, rolling his eyes. “Point is, you scared her, and I don’t know whether to be amazed or concerned at the fact that’s even possible,”

“She’s just as likely to be afraid as anyone else,” Spencer bites his cheek at Morgan’s declaration, unsure whether he should feel guilty or flustered at just how much you seemed to care about him, from the words of the rest of the team anyway.

“I mean yeah we were all worried about you, but she ran head first into the house with a potentially manic shooter inside, by herself, after Hotch told her to wait for backup,” Morgan gives Spencer a light nudge with his elbow, raising his eyebrows with an amused expression. “You know what I call that? Favouritism,”

Spencer lets out a small airy laugh, shaking his head as he stands from the edge of the ambulance.

“Face it pretty boy, you’re stuck with her for life, even if it means she follows you into an early grave,” The teasing in Morgan’s voice is unmistakeable, but his words ring truth either way. “Let’s just make sure you don’t end up in an early grave alright?”

“Yeah—” Spencer lets out another small breath through his mouth as Morgan pats his hand between his shoulder blades, gesturing for Spencer to follow him towards the rest of the team with a nod of his head.

Spencer doesn’t want to cut himself short just yet, especially if that means you’ll serve yourself the same fate. Although the idea of having you accompany him, even if it did mean in whatever lies after death, didn’t sound like too bad of an idea.

[chrisdr3]

"Ignorant" ~ OP81

Fluff

Oscar x Introvert!Reader

Summary: Y/n gets hateful comments about her appearance and for being "ignorant", whilst Oscar tries to understand what's going on with her feelings.

You never really liked to talk much, you always were shy and tended to hide your emotions. You were more on the introverted side, like Oscar. When you were together, Oscar did most of the talking, especially when you were infront of fans, reporters and team members unknown to you.

That's the main reason the hate started. Most of it, at least. Every day, you were recieving hateful messages and comments on your social media. Everywhere you went, several fans that recognised you said things about you. Because of that, you started staying at home and you stopped posting stuff on your social. The worst part is that you distanced yourself slowly from relatives and friends.

At the last few races, you went on McLaren's hospitality from the back, avoiding fans as much as you could and avoided places of the garage that had cameras and media. You took your headset and hid in lonely corners or in Oscar's driver room, where nobody could reach you, and stayed there, sometimes crying and others just sitting and thinking. Feeling hideous and snub.

As the time passed, you started distancing yourself from Oscar slowly, thinking he hated you just like the "fans". He wasn't talking much either, so that's what you thought. You didn't really hug or cuddle him, you ate and showered alone, you spent hours locked up in your office room, reading books, and didn't sleep well at night, staring at the ceiling, trying not to cry. Long story short, you started avoiding him, too.

The fist days, Oscar thought you had to study for uni. Then a week passed and Oscar started to get worried. He wanted to help you, he wanted to talk to you, to find what's going on. He was cooking your favourite meals, bringing them to your door, tried to understand if you had a certain time of going out to shower, but you didn't.

One day, he checked your social media, just in case he found why were you acting like that. He checked them that same afternoon he came up with the idea and scrolled through your accounts, every comment he saw made him even angrier. He then posted something in response.

"I've repeatedly seen hateful actions and comments about Y/n and I want people to know that she's not ignorant or rude, she's an introverted person. So, I'm requesting from everyone to respect her. If there are still people out there, still hating on her through internet or irl, they'll stop being considered "fans" by me and will be reported. Thank you." That's what the post said.

He then waited till you got out to shower and stranded waiting in the doorframe if the closed bathroom door. When you got out, he moved infront of you and pulled you into a warm, bone crushing hug. "Why are you so distant lately, sweetheart?"

Tears escaped from your eyes, and you cried silently in Oscar's arms, staining his shirt with them. He didn't move, he rubbed your back gently. "That's it, let it out princess." You continued crying till you hadn't any more tears to shed, holding the towel around your body tightly, afraid it will fall.

Oscar cupped your face and kissed your forehead. "It's okay baby, I'm here for you." He whispered. "Talk to me, what took you away from me?" You looked at him, your face tear stained, sad. "Promise n-not to get angry?" You mumbled. "Of course, I can't get angry that easily, especially from you." He replied, caressing your hair.

You didn't leave his arms, snuggled in their warmth instead. "D-do you hate me?" You mumbled, looking at your feet. "Why would I hate you baby?" He responded, not getting his arms off you. "Because I'm"ignorant" and "rude" and "snub"." Oscar looked at you and smiled sadly. "It's the comments, huh?" You raised your head, a questioning expression in your face.

"I know about the hate you get. I saw it on your social and you don't know how many rime "fans" talked to me of to other people about you when in races or downtown." He explained, ruffling yor hair. "Oh..."

"I'm here for you baby, I know you are shy and stuff but I believe in you. You can ignore them and you have the words to confront them." He smiled. "Can you try that? For me?" "I'll try..." You whispered. "Thanks, sweetheart." You kissed his cheek, adjusting your towel. Oscar noticed, he then grabbed your hand and led you to your shared bedroom. "Let's get you dressed, princess."

Taglist: @pinkswaet @dilemmaontwolegs @changetyre @thef1diary @f1driverszona

[hd-junglebook]

Its Always Been You

Part 2 - Word Count 4932

A.N - Don't hate me for how long this is OR that it's just arguing. I needed thing to move along sue me. And if you are mad, that's why y/n got her feelings hurt. sucks to suck.

Prev - Next

Y/N stared out the window, watching the city lights blur past as Jack navigated the busy Newark streets. The silence seemed to stretch on endlessly, broken only by the soft hum of the engine and the distant sounds of traffic, each second feeling heavier than the last. Y/N had not made a peep, her thoughts racing like a freight train through her mind.

Her mind raced with questions, each one more painful than the last. How could Jack have kept something like this from her? How long had he been seeing Daphne, and why had he never mentioned her before?

Y/N had always thought that she and Jack shared everything, that their bond was unbreakable. But now, she couldn't help but wonder if she had been fooling herself all along.

The thought that Jack might have known about her feelings for him made Y/N's stomach twist with humiliation. Had she been too obvious in her affection, too transparent in her longing?

The idea that he might have been pitying her all this time, or worse, laughing at her behind her back, made her want to curl up and disappear.

Y/N's eyes burned with unshed tears, but she blinked them back, refusing to let them fall.

Instead, she focused on keeping her breathing steady, on maintaining the fragile composure that was all that was keeping her from falling apart. The streetlights flickered past in a blur, casting fleeting shadows that danced across the car's interior.

The glow from the dashboard illuminated Jack's profile, his jaw clenched and his eyes focused on the road ahead, but she could feel the tension radiating off him in waves.

Beside her, Jack gripped the steering wheel, his knuckles white with tension. Y/N could feel the weight of his gaze on her, but she couldn't bring herself to meet his eyes. She didn't trust herself not to break down if she did, to unleash the torrent of emotions that were swirling inside her like a hurricane.

The silence was now feeling unbearable, a thick fog that clouded her thoughts and stifled her words. Her hands fidgeted in her lap, her fingers twisting and turning in a nervous dance. Her heart felt like it was caught in a vice grip, each beat echoing loudly in her ears.

But still, she said nothing, the words lodged in her throat like shards of glass. What could she say, really? What words could possibly encompass the depth of her pain, the magnitude of her unrequited love?

“Can you please talk to me, Y/N? I don’t get what's the big deal," Jack pleaded.

She risked a glance in his direction. He looked as uncomfortable as she felt, and for a moment, Y/N felt a flicker of hope. Maybe this was all just a misunderstanding, a terrible joke that they could laugh about later.

But then she remembered the way Daphne had looked at Jack, the possessive gleam in her eye and the casual intimacy of her touch. There was no denying the truth of their relationship, no matter how much Y/N wished she could.

As they came to a stop, the soft purr of the engine died down, leaving a heavy silence in its wake. Jack pulled into the garage of the apartment building, navigating the narrow road with ease due to the sparse traffic of the late hour, making the drive up seem even longer.

“It’s nothing, Jack. I was just shocked. You never even mentioned her to me,” Y/N began, her voice shaky. Her eyes darted to his, searching for understanding as she bit her lower lip nervously. “We’re supposed to tell each other everything, and you hid a girlfriend from me,” she continued.

 "Why didn't you tell me?"

Jack's hands tightened on the wheel, his jaw clenching. "Y/N, I..."

Jack's hand shot out, his fingers wrapping around her wrist. "Y/N," he said, his voice hoarse. "I'm sorry. Just let me explain somehow.”

Y/N swallowed hard, blinking back the tears that threatened to fall. "Okay. Let’s just get upstairs first."

With that, Y/N pulled her wrist from his grasp, she opened the car door and stepped out into the cool night air, her legs shaking beneath her. She couldn't bear to hear whatever explanation Jack might offer, couldn't stand the thought of listening to him speak of daphne.

They made their way up the steps to their apartment, Y/N's heart felt like it was breaking with every step. She had always thought that loving Jack was the one constant in her life, the one thing she could count on no matter what.

…

As they reached their floor, Y/N fumbled with her keys, her hands shaking so badly that she nearly dropped them. She could feel Jack's eyes on her, could sense his hesitation, but she refused to meet his gaze. She didn't trust herself not to break down completely if she did.

Finally, after what felt like an eternity, Y/N managed to unlock the door. She stepped inside, the familiar scent of their apartment washing over her.

Behind her, Jack closed the door softly, the click of the latch sounding like a gunshot in the heavy silence. Y/N could hear him take a deep breath, could sense him searching for the right words to say.

"Y/N," Jack said softly, his voice barely above a whisper. He took a step towards her, his hand outstretched. "It's not really what you think. Daphne and I... it's complicated."

Y/N laughed, the sound harsh and bitter. "Complicated? Is that what you call it when you have a girlfriend you never told your supposed best friend about?" She spun around to face him.

"Did you think I wouldn't find out eventually? Did you think you could just keep living this double life and I would never know?"

“I can't lose you, Y/N. You're my best friend, the most important person in my life. I know I screwed up, but I'll do whatever it takes to make it right. I'll spend every day proving to you that you can trust me, that I'll never keep anything from you again."

Y/N's eyes searched his face, looking for any sign of deception or insincerity. But all she saw was honesty and fear, a desperate need for her to believe him. She could feel the tension between them, thick and heavy.

"I know Jack," she answered, her voice barely above a whisper. "I’m sorry, it’s just been a long night. Let’s just let it go. I mean, for Christ’s sake you’re not even dating."

“Can we just watch a movie or something. Forget about her for tonight.” He suggested.

“Maybe tomorrow jack, I’m just really tired.” Jack looked disappointed but he nodded anyway, sitting himself on the couch as y/n walked to her room.

As she pushed open her door and stepped inside, Y/N finally allowed herself to break, the tears she had been holding back spilling down her cheeks in hot, salty tracks.

She sank to the floor, her back pressed against the door, and let the sobs wrack her body, mourning the loss of a love she had never truly had.

…

Y/N groaned as the shrill sound of her alarm pierced through the fog of sleep, dragging her back to consciousness. She blinked blearily, her eyes adjusting to the soft light filtering through her curtains.

For a moment, she couldn't remember how she had gotten into bed the night before, her memories hazy and fragmented.

The events of the previous evening came rushing back, hitting her like a tidal wave. Daphne’s appearance, the breakdown she had. Y/N threw her hands over her face, huffing out a string of unintelligible words as she tried to process the whirlwind of emotions that swirled inside her.

With a heavy sigh, she pushed off the blanket and swung her legs over the side of the bed. The apartment was eerily quiet, the only sound the soft hum of the city traffic outside her window. Y/N wondered if Jack was still asleep, or if he had already left for practice.

She padded softly to the bathroom, her bare feet cold against the hardwood floor. The thought of a hot shower to soothe her aching head and wash away the remnants of last night's tears sounded like heaven. Y/N turned the water to its highest temperature, steam filling the small room as she stepped inside.

The scalding water cascaded over her skin, turning it pink and raw. Y/N tilted her head back, letting the spray hit her face and wash away the smudged mascara that had dried on her cheeks. She closed her eyes.

A nagging voice in the back of her mind that whispered that she would never be enough, that Jack would always choose someone else over her.

Y/N shook her head, trying to dispel the negative thoughts. She couldn't let herself go down that rabbit hole, couldn't let the pain and insecurity consume her. She needed to be strong, to focus on herself and her own needs, even if that meant putting some distance between herself and Jack.

She was just about to step out when she heard the sound of footsteps approaching. Curious, she peeked through the sheer curtain, the gauzy material allowing her a glimpse into the hallway beyond, to see Jack standing in the doorway, his hair mussed from sleep and his eyes still heavy with exhaustion.

There, standing in the doorway, was Jack, looking like he had just rolled out of bed. His dark hair was mussed from sleep, sticking up in endearing tufts that made Y/N's fingers itch to smooth them down. His eyes were still heavy with exhaustion.

For a moment, they simply stared at each other, the tension from the night before still hanging heavy in the air between them.

The early morning sunlight filtered through the curtains, casting a soft glow over Jack's features and making his blue eyes appear even more vivid than usual. Y/N's heart skipped a beat as she drank in the sight of him, her gaze roaming over the strong lines of his jaw and the curve of his lips.

Even disgruntled he still looked beautiful.

Jack caught sight of himself in the mirror. His eyes widened as he took in his disheveled appearance.

Unable to resist, Y/N couldn't help but laugh at the sight of him, her shoulders shaking with mirth as she watched him pout at his reflection. The sound seemed to startle him, and he turned to face her, his lower lip jutting out in an exaggerated frown.

Even as he tried to look offended, Y/N could see the twinkle of amusement in his eyes, the hint of a smile tugging at the corners of his mouth.

"Oh, you think this is funny, do you?" he asked, his voice still rough with sleep. The sound sent a shiver down Y/N's spine.

Y/N nodded, her laughter growing louder as Jack's pout deepened. She grinned at him, her eyes sparkling with mischief. "I'm sorry," she said tucking herself behind the curtain, not sounding sorry at all.

"But you should see yourself right now. You look like a grumpy puppy who got woken up from a nap."

Jack's eyes narrowed, but the smile he had been trying to suppress finally broke through, lighting up his face and making Y/N's breath catch in her throat. "A puppy, huh?" he said, taking a step towards her. "I'll show you a puppy."

Jack's eyes sparked with mischief as he lunged towards Y/N, his hands outstretched as if to grab her from the shower. Y/N let out a yelp of surprise, her laughter echoing off the tiled walls as she quickly tucked herself behind the shower curtain, the flimsy material serving as a makeshift barrier between them.

"Jack, wait!" she pleaded, her voice breathless with laughter. "You can't hit a guy with glasses!"

Jack paused, his hands still hovering in the air as he raised an eyebrow at her. "You're not wearing glasses," he pointed out, his lips twitching with amusement.

Y/N peeked out from behind the curtain, her eyes wide with mock innocence. "Well, no, but I could be. You never know."

Jack shook his head, a chuckle escaping his lips as he stepped back from the shower, his hands raised in a sign of peace. "Alright, alright, you win. I surrender."

Y/N emerged from behind the curtain, her hair damp and her cheeks flushed from the steam. She was suddenly acutely aware of how close they were standing, the small bathroom feeling even more cramped with Jack's tall frame taking up space. She could feel the heat radiating off his body, could smell the faint scent of his cologne mixed with the clean scent of soap.

For a moment, the world seemed to fall away, and all Y/N could focus on was the intensity of Jack's gaze and the way his eyes seemed to darken as they roamed over her face. Her heart raced in her chest, her skin tingling with a sudden, electric awareness of his presence.

But then, the events of the previous night came rushing back, hitting her like a splash of cold water. The hurt, the betrayal, the overwhelming sense of confusion and uncertainty - it all came flooding back, making her throat tighten and her chest ache.

Y/N felt her smile fade, the laughter dying in her throat as she took a small step back, putting some distance between them.

She averted her gaze, suddenly finding the pattern of the shower curtain incredibly interesting as she tried to gather her thoughts.

The sound of the water hitting the tiles seemed to grow louder in the silence, the steady rhythm a stark contrast to the pounding of her heart. Y/N swallowed hard, her mouth suddenly dry as she struggled to find the right words.

"I'll be out in a minute, then it's all yours," she said, her voice barely above a whisper. She couldn't bring herself to look at him, couldn't bear to see the hurt or confusion in his eyes.

Jack's hands fell to his sides, his expression growing serious. "Are you still mad at me?” he said softly. “I meant what I said last night, Y/N. I'll do whatever it takes to make things right between us."

Y/N nodded; her throat tight with emotion. "I know you will, Jack. I’m not mad at you, I’m just not feeling good right now.”

Jack was quiet for a moment. Y/N could hear him shift his weight, could sense the way he was searching for something to say. But in the end, he simply nodded, his shoulders slumping slightly as he took a step back.

"Okay," he said softly, his voice rough with an emotion Y/N couldn't quite place. "I'll just... I'll wait in the living room." And with that, he turned and walked out of the bathroom, the sound of his footsteps fading as he made his way down the hall.

She knew that they couldn't go on like this forever, that they would have to face the hard truths and difficult conversations sooner or later.

But for now, she simply wanted to lose herself in the warmth of the shower, to let the water wash away the pain and confusion and leave her feeling clean and new.

…

After their last awkward encounter, y/n had decided to find someone to talk to. Y/N lay sprawled on her stomach, her feet swinging lazily behind her as she cradled her phone in her hands.

The soft glow of the screen illuminated her face, casting shadows across her features as she poured her heart out to her best friend, Jenn.

"I just don't know what to do," Y/N confessed, her voice tinged with a mix of frustration and despair. "I mean, I always knew that Jack and I were just friends, but I guess a part of me always hoped that maybe, someday, he would see me as something more."

Jenn’s face filled the screen, her brows furrowed in sympathy as she listened to Y/N's tale of woe. "Oh, honey," she said softly, her voice tinny through the phone's speakers. "I'm so sorry. I can't even imagine how you must be feeling right now."

Y/N sighed, burying her face in her pillow for a moment before lifting her head to look back at the screen. "It's just... I feel so stupid, you know? Like, how could I not have seen this coming? I really thought moving all this way together would open his eyes."

Jenn shook her head, her expression fierce. "You're not stupid, Y/N. You're human. And sometimes, when we're in love, we see what we want to see, even if it's not really there."

Y/N felt tears prick at the corners of her eyes, and she blinked them back furiously. "I just don't know what to do now," she said, her voice small and lost.

"I mean, Jack is my best friend, but how can I be around him knowing that he's with someone else? Knowing that he'll never see me the way I see him?"

They were quiet for a moment, Jenn/s face was pensive as she mulled over Y/N's words. "Maybe," she said slowly, her tone cautious. "Maybe it's time for you to start thinking about yourself for a change."

Y/N frowned, not quite wanting to get into her plan. "Not this again, we’re not playing matchmaker."

She leaned forward, her expression earnest. “whatever, but maybe it's time for you to put yourself out there, to start meeting new people and exploring new possibilities. You've been so focused on Jack for so long, but there's a whole world out there waiting for you, Y/N."

Y/N bit her lip, her heart racing at the thought. "I don't know, J. I'm not really the dating type. And besides, who would want to go out with me?"

She could feel the eye roll through the screen. "Are you kidding me? Y/N, you're gorgeous, smart, funny, and kind. Any guy would be lucky to have you." Y/N felt a blush creep up her cheeks at Sarah's words, a small spark of hope igniting in her chest.

Jenn nodded emphatically. “Why don't you download one of those dating apps, like Tinder or Bumble? Just to see what's out there, you know? No pressure, no expectations, just a chance to meet some new people and have some fun."

Y/N let out a surprised laugh, the sound bursting from her lips before she could stop it. "A dating app? Seriously?" The idea both thrilling and terrifying at the same time. She had never been one for casual dating, had always been more of a relationship kind of girl. But maybe Jenn was right.

Maybe it was time for her to step outside her comfort zone, to take a chance on something new. “It could be fun! And who knows, maybe you'll meet someone amazing who will make you forget all about Jack and his stupid secrets."                                

"Okay," she said slowly, her smile growing wider. "I'll do it. I'll download a dating app and see what happens."

…

The soft beat of y/ns favorite song played softly in the background as she stood in front of her mirror, taking one last look at her reflection, she debated between two pairs of heels when she heard the front door open, and the sound of familiar voices filled the apartment.

Her heart skipped a beat as she realized that Jack was home, and he wasn't alone. She took a deep breath before stepping out of her room.

The black mini dress hugged her curves in all the right places, and the smokey eye makeup gave her a sultry, mysterious air. She had spent the better part of an hour getting ready, determined to make a good impression on her date.

"Hi John," Y/N said, her voice soft and slightly breathless as she caught sight of Jack's teammate standing beside him. She couldn't help but notice the way John's eyes widened as he took in her appearance, his gaze traveling up and down her body appreciatively.

"Wow, Y/N," John said, a slow smile spreading across his face. "You look amazing. Got a hot date tonight?"

Y/N felt a blush creep up her cheeks, but she forced herself to maintain eye contact, a coy smile playing on her lips. "Maybe," she said, her voice teasing. "Guess you'll have to wait and see."

Out of the corner of her eye, she could see Jack stiffen, his jaw clenching as he watched the exchange. She tried to ignore the way her heart raced at the sight of him, the way her skin tingled with awareness of his presence.

"Well, whoever the lucky guy is, he's in for a treat," John said, his gaze lingering on her a moment longer before he turned to Jack, a knowing look in his eye. "Don't you think, Jack?" Jack's expression was unreadable, but Y/N could see the tension in his shoulders, the way his hands clenched at his sides.

"Yeah," he said, his voice tight. "Y/N always looks great."

Y/N felt a thrill of satisfaction at the barely concealed jealousy in his tone, but she forced herself to keep her focus on John. "Thanks, John," she said, her voice warm. "You're too sweet." She took a step closer to him, her heels clicking on the hardwood floor.

"You know, I've been meaning to ask you something," she said, her voice low and conspiratorial. "Why don’t you come over more often? It would be nice to see you more.”

John's eyes lit up, a grin spreading across his face. "Well jack here is trying to keep you to himself. Just say the word and I'll clear my schedule."

Y/N laughed, the sound light and flirtatious. "I might just take you up on that," she said, her eyes sparkling with mischief.

She could feel Jack's gaze burning into her back, could sense the tension radiating off him in waves. But she refused to let herself be swayed. "Well, I should probably get going," she said, glancing at her watch. "Don't want to keep my date waiting."

She brushed past John, her arm grazing against his as she made her way towards the door. "It was great seeing you, John," she called over her shoulder, her voice sweet.

"Don't be a stranger, okay?" And with that, she was gone, the sound of her heels echoing down the hallway as she made her way out of the apartment. She could feel Jack's eyes on her until the very last moment.

Y/N felt Jack's hand close around her arm, his grip firm but gentle. Before she could protest, he pulled her towards him, spinning her around until she was facing him, her body pressed against his chest.

Her breath caught in her throat as she looked up at him, their faces mere inches apart. “Supposed to tell each other everything, remember? Guess that doesn’t apply to dates or girlfriends,” he snapped, tone dripping with sarcasm. His gaze was icy, challenging him to respond. 

They both stood in the dark hallway, a silent standoff. The pale blue moonlight filtered through the narrow window, casting an eerie glow on their faces. y/n finally broke the silence, his voice as cold as the icy blue of a frozen lake. "If you're going to be like this, maybe I should find somewhere else to stay tonight."

Jack's eyes narrowed, his lips pressed into a thin line. The once vibrant blue of his eyes had dulled to a stormy gray, reflecting the turmoil within.

"I broke up with her three months ago, okay? You've been avoiding me for a week straight," he shot back, his words tinged with frustration and a hint of desperation.

"I..." He searched for the right words, but they eluded his grasp, slipping through his fingers like grains of sand in an hourglass. The silence stretched between them, as vast and empty as a cloudless blue sky. Jack didn't know what she wanted him to say.

In fact, all he could see was her eyes, two deep pools of blue that threatened to drown him in their depths. He was at a complete loss for words, his mind as blank as a fresh canvas.

"I know you have feelings for me. I never brought it up because if I was wrong then you'd be mad at me, but I've known for years," he finally confessed, his voice barely above a whisper. The words hung in the air, heavy and suffocating, like a thick blanket of blue smoke.

She felt a lump form in her throat as she listened to his words, each syllable carving a deeper wound in her already battered soul. The revelation was like a bolt of lightning, striking her heart with a searing pain.

She knew. Jack had known all along, yet he had chosen to remain silent, to spare her the pain of rejection. The realization settled over her like a heavy fog, obscuring her thoughts and feelings, leaving her lost and alone in a world devoid of color.

Her hand remained clasped in his, a bittersweet reminder of what could have been. She wanted to hold on, to cling to his warmth and the fleeting hope it offered, like a drowning sailor grasping at a lifeline in the vast ocean of despair.

Her fingers trembled, the icy blue of her veins visible beneath her skin, as if the color had been drained from her very being. And then, like a dagger to the heart, came his final confession.

"And I wish things were different, but there's no good way to say this. I don't like you in that way, but I really hope you find someone that does.

His voice was soft, barely audible above the deafening silence that engulfed them, but he didn't let go of her hand. It stayed there, a lifeline that tethered her to the harsh reality of the moment.

Y/N felt as if the air had been sucked from her lungs, her heart shattering into a million pieces at his words. She had always known, deep down, that Jack didn't feel the same way about her, but hearing him say it out loud was like a knife to the chest, the blade twisting with every syllable.

Tears welled up in her eyes, blurring her vision until all she could see was a hazy blue mist. She blinked them away, unwilling to let them fall in front of him, to show him just how deeply his words had cut her.

Her free hand clenched into a fist at her side, nails digging into her palm, the pain a welcome distraction from the agony that consumed her heart.

She wanted to scream, to cry, to beg him to reconsider, but the words lodged in her throat, as heavy and immovable as a boulder. Instead, she simply nodded, a jerky, mechanical motion that belied the turmoil within.

She forced herself to meet his gaze, her eyes a dull, lifeless blue, like the sky before a storm, void of the sparkle and warmth they once held.

The tears pooled in her eyes, threatening to spill over and reveal the depth of her anguish. "How long have you known?" she asked, her voice barely above a whisper, a fragile wisp of sound that hung in the air between them.

Jack sighed, his shoulders slumping as he released her wrist, his hand falling limply to his side. The warmth of his touch lingered on her skin, a cruel reminder of the connection they once shared.

"A while," he admitted, his voice heavy with guilt. "I didn't know how to bring it up without hurting you, so I just... didn't."

Y/N nodded, her throat tight with emotion, the lump growing larger with each passing second. She swallowed hard, trying to dislodge the knot of pain that threatened to choke her.

"I see," she said, her voice flat, devoid of the vibrant emotion that once colored her words. "Well, I guess I should thank you for finally being honest with me, even if it is a little late."

She turned to go, her heart heavy with the weight of his rejection, each step a monumental effort as if she were wading through quicksand.

Before she could take more than a few steps, she heard Jack's voice, soft and sad, calling after her, a desperate plea for understanding.

"Y/N, I'm sorry," he said, his voice cracking with emotion, the raw honesty of his words cutting through the suffocating silence. "I never meant to hurt you. You're my best friend."

She walked away, her heels clicking on the tiled floor as she made her way to the elevator. Jack's words echoed in her mind like a cruel, endless loop, a haunting melody that played on repeat, taunting her with the knowledge of what could never be.

She had always known that loving him would end in heartbreak, the inevitable conclusion to a story that was doomed from the start.

But somehow, that knowledge did nothing to dull the pain that threatened to consume her, body and soul, leaving her hollow and empty, a mere shell of the person she once was.

As the elevator doors closed behind her, she leaned against the wall, her shoulders shaking with silent sobs, the tears she had fought so hard to contain now flowing freely down her cheeks. The fluorescent lights cast a harsh glow on her face, illuminating the tracks of her tears.

She closed her eyes, willing the pain to subside, but it only seemed to grow stronger.

…

the next chapter is going to be put off for a while since I want to get until dawn started. Also do y'all not fw Until Dawn I really think Jack could eat us up in a fic that isn't revolved around hockey. there's only so many variations. But do you guys even want until dawn, please let me know.

[flkwh0re]

Casual - The Continuation

Warnings: Fluffy!!, Maybe slightly angsty?, Not a whole lot of warnings but this has no smut!

Word count: 1k (literally three words from 1.1k 😭)

Authors Note: Pretty sure this is like the first fic i’m posting here without smut, LOLLL. This has taken too long for me to get out but I felt randomly motivated to write it so enjoy! I listen to Snow Angel two times while writing this. 😭😭(There with be an alternative ending for this)

Tags: @mrsrushman @sgm616 @nikkinss

First part

It had been a few weeks since that night with Natasha, and to no one's surprise she had made no contact. Not with anyone. You tried reaching out every single way that was possible, but before you had gotten the chance all way were unavailable to you.

You had spent most days and nights with Wanda, you couldn't stand being alone. The moment Wanda was gone all thoughts had consumed you, eating away at your emotional state.

A knock came to the door, anytime there was one you would scurry to the door to check if it was Nat. Hoping she'd have shown to apologize, to tell you how she really felt. The person behind the door though was a girl you had only met a few times. Yelena Belova.

Yelena was Nat's sister, you only new this because of the few times Natasha had mentioned her family to you. One of the many reasons you thought she was in love with you, who discusses their family with someone they're supposed to only have a casual relationship with?

"Hi? Yelena right?" You asked, trying to make it seem like you haven't previously spent the past few weeks stalking her instagram for some news on Natasha. "Yea, hey. My sister said she had some stuff here, asked me to grab it."

The strength it took to fight back the tears that welled in your tear ducts was almost impossible. "Yea, come in. I'll go grab it."

You led Yelena into your apartment and told her to wait in the living room part of your place. As you wondered off down the hall, you let the tears slip. Why did she have to send her sister?? She wasn't woman enough to face you? After SHE broke YOUR heart? You weren't sure if the tears were tears out of anger or out of sadness.

What you hadn't known was that Natasha was too facing the worst, if not worse than how you were. She could barley leave her bed, rarely ate anything. She had asked Yelena to retrieve her stuff, not because she wanted it back but because she feared it was just in your way.

The lack of clarity between the two of you was what was tearing you two apart even more. Natasha feared you now hated her, and you thought Natasha had played with your heart.

You returned to the living room to find Yelena looking at a collection of pictures. They were polaroids taken by Wanda of you, and all your other shared friends. One of the pictures showed you and Nat, your arms wrapped tightly around her neck as you at on her lap. Natasha's hand rested on your thigh, and the widest grin plastered on her face.

"What happened between you two?" Yelena questioned, offering you a sympathetic look as she saw the tears stained to your reddened face and puffy eyes. "I thought we had more, clearly we didn't. I mistook her false overbearing love for me as real love." You mumbled out past your sobs that you held back.

"Mistook? Natasha does love you. She's talked about you, a whole lot. She's not left her room barely in weeks." You facial expression contorted into a look of shock, confusion, and worry.

"She hasn't tried to even talk to me, how could she be so upset?" It came out harsher than you intended and immediately apologized. Yelena understood your attitude, and offered to take you to Nats place. You were hesitant at first, but she insisted that she could convince her sister to talk to you.

The drive to Natasha's was awkward, which only made your anxiety worse. The skin around you nails had been picked away, alone with the skin on your lips. It was a short drive, but enough to ready yourself.

Yelena unlocked the door of Nat's apartment, silently leading you in just incase Natasha was to appear. Yelena left you to stand in the hallway while she took Nat's stuff in. You tried listening into what Natasha had to say, but her voice was so horse from her crying.

Finally Yelena spoke up about Natasha finally speaking to you, which Nat quickly denied. "Yelena I cannot speak to her, she probably hates me guts. I can't handle anymore of this situation." Yelena gave into her own feelings, "Natasha stop it! You're acting as if this whole time she did something to you! You shatter that poor girls heart by closing yourself off to her."

Natasha stared at her sister, realization came crashing into her mind. She felt so stupid, so very stupid. After a moment of silence Natasha finally spoke up, "I need to talk to her." Yelena nodded, "Lucky for you I brought her with me." Natasha's eyes widened.

"Let me go get her, I'll have her come in and talk to you." Yelena quickly turned the corner, motioning you to follow. You entered Nat's room, clothes strung on the floor. Bottles upon bottles on her nightstand.

"Sorry for the mess." She muttered in shame, you dismissed her apologies. "I am so sorry, I know that's not enough. I- I should've.. been honest. I shouldn't have ran from you. I love you, I love you so much. I was just so scared of committing to a relationship, I was scared of getting hurt."

"It's okay Nat, but you know that I would never ever, hurt you." You wrapped your arms around her, her head resting on your stomach and tears clinging to the fabric of your shirt. "I know, I'm so sorry. I understand if you hate me, I do. I just need you to know I'm so sorry."

"I don't hate you, I could never hate you. I love you Nat, I love you so much. I wanna start over, I wanna forget all the hookups. I wanna start a fresh new relationship with you, okay?" Natasha nodded, "Okay." Smiles grew on both of your faces. "You better hope Wanda doesn't beat the shit out of you." You both chuckled, "That girl couldn't lay a finger on me." You both laughed even harder.

Nat pulled you down onto her bed, her arms wrapping around your body. Her scent and warmth swarmed you, something you missed crazily. "Wait we should tell Yelena." As soon as the words left your lips, Natasha's phone lit up with a message from Yelena saying, "Bye".

You and the russian burst out into laughter, then shared a soft kiss full of love and passion. You'd finally be able to be happy with Natasha.

Masterlist

[coolemmasulivan]

Love Wins (Even in Red) | 2

Pairing: Mason Mount x Reporter!Reader

Summary: Fate reunites them under the red lights of Old Trafford. Interviews are frosty, leaving people wondering why. Can Mason forgive Reader for something that happened in the past? Can she win Mason's heart and prove love wins even on red?

Word count: 2631

Read part 1 here

Author's note: Third part is going to be the last. My first language is not English.

And if it's right I don't care how long it takes As long as I'm with you I've got a smile on my face Save your tears, it'll be okay All I know is you're here with me

The stolen kiss hung heavy in the air, leaving you breathless and confused. You practically fled the club, a whirlwind of emotions battling inside you. Lost in the chaos, your feet carried you away from your friends. After who knows how long, the ache in your legs jolted you back to reality. Miles from home, you surrendered and hailed a cab. Twenty minutes later, you were back in your apartment, tumbling into bed and burying yourself under the covers.

After an hour or two, the sound of the front door unlocking made you shut your eyes. Clare's familiar footsteps echoed down the hall, stopping at your bedroom door. The knob turned, and the next thing you knew, the sheets were ripped away, revealing you bathed in the moonlight streaming through the window.

"Where the hell were you?" She demanded, her forehead etched with concern. "I've been calling you non-stop. You just left-- wait, were you crying?" The last question hung in the air as she saw your face illuminated by the moonlight. "What happened?" she asked gently, settling onto the edge of the bed beside you.

You squeezed your eyes shut, the memory of the stolen kiss replaying in your head. "Mason," you whispered, your voice thick with unshed tears. "We run into each other in the club."

"Oh, honey!" She reached out and placed her hands on your arm, offering you comfort. "What happened? Did he say something? I swear, if he hurt you..." Her voice trailed off, a low growl rumbling in her throat.

You finally opened your eyes, meeting her worried gaze. The harsh light of reality sunk in – you couldn't hide behind the sheets forever. Taking a shaky breath, you sat up, the movement pulling a fresh wave of tears.

"He kissed me." You blurted out.

Clare blinked, a flicker of confusion crossing her face. "Wait, what? He kissed you? And that's… bad?"

Taking a shaky breath, you blurted out, "Of course, it is, Clare. What if someone saw us? Whad if they use the kiss against me? What if it jeopardizes Lily?"

"Hold on," Clare said, her voice firm but laced with concern. "We thought they didn't have anything left after Lily's graduated from Cambridge."

You ran a hand through your messy hair, dread clenching your stomach. "They might not care. They might just want to hurt me. And the video can still cause damage to Lily's professional life."

Clare's gaze softened. "Listen to me," she said, taking your hands in hers. "This is your life, Y/n. You can't let them control you anymore. Maybe this kiss with Mason..." she trailed off, a hopeful glint in her eyes, "maybe it's a sign. Maybe it's time to take back your happiness."

When Mason opened the door, you could smell the scent of the food floating through the air, a warm invitation into his home.

"Hi," he said, his smile radiating warmth as he held the door open. He was wearing a black apron with splashes of flour, giving him a charming domestic look.

"Hi," you replied, your cheeks flushing slightly. "What's cooking?"

"Just trying to impress you with my culinary skills," he chuckled, a hint of nervousness in his eyes. "Come in."

Following him inside, a sudden wave of nervousness washed over you as the door shut behind you. This was the first time you'd been to his house, and the intimacy of being alone with him was setting off butterflies in your stomach.

"Let me take your coat," he offered, extending a hand.

You shrugged off the coat, and as he reached for it, you felt him brush against you. He hung your coat on a nearby hook behind you and instead of stepping back, he lingered close. His gaze dropped to meet yours, a hesitant smile playing on his lips

Then, in a move that stole your breath, he leaned in slowly and so did you. The kiss was sweet and tender and as he pulled away, his eyes sparkled with a playful glint.

Just as he leaned in again, you interrupted him. "Uh, Mason?" you said, your voice barely above a whisper.

"Yeah?" he murmured, his lips hovering tantalizingly close to yours.

"I… I think something's burning," you stammered, pointing towards what you assumed was the kitchen.

Mason's eyes widened comically. "Burning?" He shot a panicked glance towards the direction you indicated and with a mumbled curse, hurried towards the kitchen, the scent of slightly burnt food growing stronger with each step.

As you watched him panic and run away, you couldn't help but stifle a giggle. With a teasing smile already playing on your lips, you couldn't resist the curiosity that tugged at you as you slowly followed.

The sight that greeted you in the kitchen was pure comedy gold. Mason, clad in his flour-dusted apron, was glancing into the oven with a spatula in his hand. Inside the oven, you could see a burnt mess that was supposed to be a romantic dinner.

"Oh no." you drawled, your voice dripping with mock sympathy. "Looks like someone overestimated their culinary skills."

Mason turned around quickly, his face turning a delightful shade of crimson. "It's… it's under control!" He stuttered as he carefully removed the burned food from the oven. "It didn't burn that much. Right?"

Unable to hold back any longer, you burst into laughter. The sound filled the kitchen, chasing away the awkwardness. Mason, unable to maintain his flustered facade, joined in, a sheepish grin replacing his earlier panic.

"Well, Chef Mason," you said once the laughing died down. "I think takeout might be the safer option tonight."

Mason chuckled, relief flooding his features. "Agreed. How does pizza sound?"

"Sounds perfect." As he scrolled through menus on his phone, you couldn't help but steal a glance at him. The domestic chaos, the shared laughter, it all felt strangely comforting. "Hey?" you said softly, catching his eye. He looked up, his gaze warm and questioning.

Taking a deep breath, you closed the distance between you. With a gentle hand on his cheek, you leaned in and planted a quick, sweet kiss on his lips.

Mason's eyes widened in surprise before melting into a smile. He reached out, his fingers brushing against your cheek before tucking a stray strand of hair behind your ear. "Maybe takeout... and a movie?" he suggested, his voice a husky whisper.

You grinned back, your heart fluttering in your chest. "Sounds like a plan."

The post-practice rush had subsided, leaving only Mason, Marcus, and Garnacho in the locker room. The stillness in the air was palpable, broken only by the steady sound of water droplets falling from the showers. Marcus, being wise as ever, noticed that Mason was behaving distantly.

"Seriously, mate, everything alright?" he asked, concern lacing his voice.

Mason jumped slightly, as if startled from a dream. He tried to smile, but it didn't last long as they kept looking at him. "Yeah, just haven't slept well."

Garnacho chuckled. "So it has nothing to do with Y/n?"

Mason's throat tightened. "Y/n? What? No, of course not." A flicker of annoyance crossed his features.

"Uh-huh," Garnacho drawled, raising an eyebrow. "Funny thing. I saw her this morning and she looked like she hadn't slept a wink either. Bags under her eyes, the same distracted vibe you got going on."

Mason's smile completely faded away, and was replaced by a look of sudden realization.

"She's here?" he blurted out, genuinely surprised.

"Yeah! She's interviewing Bruno."

Mason sank onto the bench, burying his face in his hands. He let out a defeated sigh. "The last time we went to the club… I run into her." he started, his voice barely a whisper.

Marcus and Garnacho exchanged a curious glance. "She was there?" Garnacho blurted, surprised. He knew Amelia wouldn't be caught dead in the loud, thumping chaos of a nightclub. She was very homie and very workaholic, a stark contrast to the flashing lights and booming music.

Mason's face flushed a deep red. "Uh, yeah," he stammered, avoiding their eyes. "The thing is… I kissed her."

The locker room went silent. His teammates stared at him, their amusement replaced by genuine surprise. "You kissed her?" Marcus finally managed, his voice incredulous.

Mason ran a frustrated hand through his still-damp hair. "Look, it was stupid. I'd had a couple too many drinks, saw some douchebag flirting with her at the bar, and…" He trailed off, unable to meet his teammates' eyes.

"And you lost it because you were jealous!" Marcus finished his sentence with a smirk.

Mason scowled. "No! It wasn't like that. We just… bumped into each other in the back hallway, and things happened."

Garnacho let out a suspicious snort. "Mate, come on. Don't try and deny it. It's written all over your face. You still care about her, even after what went down between you. Whatever it was."

A heavy silence descended upon the room, broken only by the distant voice of the staff working nearby the locker room. Mason finally spoke, his voice barely a whisper.

"The thing is, what she said after."

Both Marcus and Garnacho leaned in, their playful behaviour replaced by genuine curiosity.

"What did she say?" Marcus pressed gently, urging Mason to elaborate

"When I finally asked why she left, why she just walked away from everything we had… she said 'They made me.'"

Marcus and Garnacho exchanged a confused glance. "They made her?" Garnacho echoed, his brow furrowed in thought. "Who's they?"

"That's what I want to know." Mason said, his voice tight with frustration and a hint of fear.

You slumped back in your chair, the recorder switched off. The interview with Bruno had been insightful, but it felt like a distant echo through the fog of your worries. Bruno, a kind friend with gentle eyes, noticed the way your smile faltered and your shoulders slumped.

"You alright, Y/n?" He asked, his voice laced with concern. "You seem a bit… off today."

You attempted to smile, but it was clear that the smile was forced and insincere. "Everything's fine, Bruno. Just a bit tired, I guess."

Bruno wasn't convinced. He knew you well enough to see the worry etched into your features. "Is it Mason?"

"Why would you think that?"

"I know you have a history with Mason. Though he didn't tell me what happened, I can see that whatever it is, it's causing pain for both of you all over again."

The mention of Mason's name was like a dam breaking. Tears welled up in your eyes, blurring your vision. Before you could stop yourself, a sob escaped your lips. Bruno reacted instinctively, reaching out and pulling you into a hug. His embrace was warm and safe.

"It's okay," Bruno murmured. "Let it out."

You clung to him, the tears flowing freely. Bruno didn't pry, he just held you until the sobs subsided into shaky breaths. When you finally pulled back, wiping your eyes with the back of your hand, a raw vulnerability shone on your face.

Taking a deep breath, you poured out your heart to him. You told him about the blackmail, Lily's fear, and the impossible situation it had placed you in. You confessed your guilt over leaving Mason without explaining the real reason behind it, the burden of the secret a constant weight on your chest.

Bruno listened intently, his expression a mixture of sympathy and understanding. When you finished, a thoughtful silence settled between them.

"I think it's time you spoke to Mason, Y/n." Bruno said, his voice gentle but firm. "Keeping this from him is only going to make things worse. He deserves to know the truth, and maybe, together, you can find a way to make everything right."

You considered his words, a flicker of hope igniting in your eyes. The thought of facing Mason, of reliving the pain and tell him the thrut, was terrifying. But Bruno was right. The weight of the secret was suffocating, and honesty, however painful, was the only path forward.

The piercing sound of your phone shattered the peaceful silence of your apartment. Your heart thumped against your ribs as you glanced at the screen. An unknown number. Hesitantly, you answered.

"Hello?" Your voice was cautious. You hated answering calls from unknown numbers.

A low, distorted voice crackled through the receiver, sending shivers down your spine. "Y/n Y/l/n! Been enjoying Chelsea?"

Y/n's breath hitched. "Who is this?" You managed, forcing yourself to appear calm.

"Someone who knows a little secret about your beloved sister!" The voice exuded malice. "A little something that could ruin her life."

You felt a sudden surge of panic rising in your throat. Lily. "What are you talking about?" You demanded, your voice trembling.

"Oh, come now, Y/n," the voice scolded. "You don't know about that little video, the one of Lily… shall we say, being a little too carefree with a certain professor in his office?"

Your mind and heart were racing. Lily had never mentioned a video before, but being a rebellious teenager she didn't share much with you these days. "What… what do you want?" You whispered, your voice thick with fear.

"Simple, really," the voice replied with amusement. "We want you out of Chelsea. Pack your bags, say your goodbyes to your precious footballer boyfriend, and disappear."

"No!" The denial ripped from your lips. You couldn't leave Mason. You couldn't abandon your dreams and job.

"Then let's hope your sister appreciates your loyalty." The voice mocked. "Because if we see you anywhere near Mason again, that little video makes a surprise appearance online. Think about it! What would happen to Lily's future if everyone saw that?"

The call ended abruptly, leaving you struggling to cope with the silence. You cradled the phone to your chest, the weight of the threat crushing your heart.

The sting in your eyes couldn't compare to the nervous fire burning in your stomach. It had taken you a week to finally face the reality and gather the courage to talk to Mason. Today was the day, and nothing would stop you.

Practice would end earlier today, the perfect opportunity to catch him before he disappeared into Manchester's vast maze. You had changed your number a while back, and Mason's number wasn't on your contact list anymore, and you didn't know his new address. The training centre was your only opportunity.

Your anxiety had turned your stomach upside down. The lunch that you had earlier, which was already of questionable quality, made a fast and unwelcome reappearance in the toilet as you found yourself unable to keep it down. Wiping the cold sweat from your palms after you brushed your teeth, you muttered a mantra, "It's now or never."

"It's now or never, Y/n!" he boomed. "Swim with me, or be a pool princess forever!"

You pretended to scoff. "Princess? I like the sound of that, thank you very much."

He grinned wider. "Come on! The real fun's inside. You in? Give me your hand."

You hesitated. Taking a breath, you looked at him. "Now or never, right?"

He held out a hand, eyes bright. "Now or never."

You nodded and grabbed his hand. Water closed in, fear replaced by his warm touch. Maybe it wasn't just about swimming. Maybe it was about taking a leap of faith, with him.

Just as you grabbed your jacket, the sound of the doorbell shattered the fragile calm of the apartment. With a hopeful smile, you flung open the door, only to watch it quickly fade away.

"Lily?" There, standing on the doorstep, was none other than your sister.

"Surprise!"

Your stomach lurched. The familiar face triggered a fresh wave of nausea, and the last remnants of breakfast found a new, unwelcome home – on your sister's shoes.

Tags:

@bibissparkles @girlidekanymore @marialikescherries

[scekrex]

Love your writing!!

Can I request an Adam x Lucifer’s Ex! reader? Reader is basically the same rank as Lucifer was (so he’s the same strength as him too) Basically, they split up after he and Lilith got together and gave Eve the Apple. Reader is extremely depressed about it but then he meets one of the humans from Eden, Adam . And they find solidarity and comfort in going through the same/similar situation.

Lowkey giving that one scene from Steven Universe (No idea if you’ve watched/like SU so, if you’re not sure what I’m talking about, I’ll link it here. (If you want, you can probably just skip to the time stamps or watch all of it, either’s fine, but it starts at 2:33 and ends around 3:11

Spoilers for Steven Universe, if you even care.

https://youtu.be/PnlRR0rX_Q0?feature=shared

(The context for the SU scene is ofc different, but just the overall vibe of it is what I mean.) but just 2 people abandoned by someone who was supposed to be their soulmate (Twice for Adam) and them finding love in each other in the end.

(Like, imagine both the fluff AND angst potential.)

Also!! If/After you write this one, I might request a Part 2 of this with angst for the aftermath of EP.8. (ONLY if you’re ok with it OFC! If not, just tell me in your A/N for this one and I won’t send it!!)

I hope you have a great day!!!! 💙💙

Okay first of all: gimme that EP 8 request right now, I need it soooo badly °^° I haven't seen SU but I've watched the scene you linked and it helped to get the vibe right so much, this is a lil short but dragging it out just to make it appear longer felt wrong. I hope you like it though. Also friendly reminder: this is set in Eden before Adam became a douchebag.

I'm a jester and I'm yours, call me your fool

pairing: Adam x male!reader

warnings: language, hurt (with comfort)

note: not beta read bc fuck you I don't have beta readers

Eden had always been the place for you to ge whenever you felt sad or upset, it calmed you down, eased your mind, made your thoughts shut up for only a couple moments. Lucifer had betrayed you, you knew that, you also knew that it had been for the best to end things with him before he would take it too far with his wish for free will and with the things that were going on between him and Lilith. And before you even realized how sad that made you feel, to be betrayed, to be replaced by a mortal soul that would never be as pure as you were, you started crying - it wasn’t loud and if someone wouldn’t have paid attention it was also not visible but Adam did pay attention. Lucifer and Lilith had given Eve the apple, the forbidden fruit, how much further would heaven allow them to go? You weren’t sure. What you were sure about though, was the fact that you missed Lucifer, you missed his warmth, his chaotic yet gentle way of handling things, no matter what it was. You missed his creative mind, his joyful character, the love he had held for you that he had never been able to hide. You missed your clumsy blonde little angel - you shook your head, no, he was no longer yours.

And while you tried to sort your emotions out, the brunette human carefully creeped closer, he noticed your sadness and despite the fact that he didn’t know why you were crying, he felt like he understood without knowing the true reason - he had heard them whispering about it. About how Lucifer had left his boyfriend in order to get together with the first woman, his ex wife, Lilith. And while one loss alone had been seemingly impossible to carry, Adam had not only lost Lilith to his former best friend, he had also lost Eve. Eve, who had tried to talk him into eating the apple as well, he had refused to though, he wanted to remain pure, if she decided that wasn’t for her though, then that was her deal and not Adam’s.

Once he had reached you, he quietly sat down next to you, he wanted to take the sadness away from you, a creature as gorgeous and heavenly as yours should not sit in Eden and cry. He wanted to ask you why you were crying, who caused all those tears but he felt like it wasn’t his place to do so - you were an angel after all. Was he even allowed to sit next to you? The first man didn’t know, but he was sure that if he wouldn’t be allowed near you, you would tell him so. Lucifer might be disobeying heaven’s rules, but you? You looked too pure to do so.

You quickly wiped your tears away as soon as you noticed the presence next to you, when you turned your head to look at the person that had decided to take their place by your side, you were quite surprised to see the face of the first man there. “You look so sad,” the brunette hummed as he reached out to gently touch your cheek. Your golden, broken looking eyes met equally broken brown ones and you somehow found comfort in them, even though they belonged to a total stranger. “Yeah,” you softly chuckled at his words, a small smile forced itself onto your lips, “I guess that’s normal when you get dumped, though.” So the rumors had been true, Lucifer had left his boyfriend for Adam’s former wife. He inhaled deeply, “That’s what love brings.” And yeah, he had a point. Love was able to bring joy and happiness, but it could also take those feelings away from you within seconds. Carefully you leaned into Adam’s touch and closed your eyes as you breathed in the scent of the brunette. “A creature as beautiful as you shouldn’t be sad over losing someone like Lucifer though,” the first man continued and gently caressed your cheek with his thumb, wiping away all remains of your tears. “That’s so easy to say, Adam,” your voice cracked when you said his name and you opened your eyes again, “He was everything.” Adam nodded, he understood, “So was Eve. And Lilith. But sometimes they choose a different path than you do and there is nothing you can do to change that.”

And looking at it that way made you realize that Adam was in the same situation as you were, a situation that tore apart everything just because Lucifer had made a reckless decision. You had lost everything and so had Adam, you were sitting in the same boat, sailing the same ocean of sadness. But now you had found each other, so at least you weren’t sailing alone anymore. “Adam?” you asked quietly as you looked at the first man, making sure you’d get nothing but honesty when your eyes met his, “Can you stay?” And without hesitation the first man nodded, this would not only bring you comfort and take a little bit of the sadness away from you, no, the brunette would also find comfort in this, you would keep his mind busy and that he was very thankful for.

[forevermore05]

Zuko and his protectiveness over Katara backfired on the show

I think we're all quite aware of the fact that Zuko is canonically very protective over Katara

Exhibit A

When he saves Katara from falling rubble in the Western air temple.

Exhibit B

When he protects Katara from flames in that same episode when she is about to blood bend that fire nation soldier.

Exhibit C

The famous Agni Kai where he take lightning for Katara

Now why are these so significant? I think these are big gestures are to show Zuko's efforts to make amends after what he did to Katara. It could be argued these are very extreme ways of making it up to her because these came at the cost of his life. But this also goes to show his character development, as he is willing to protect Katara from danger. For me, one of the reasons why I ship them is because of his protectiveness. It's refreshing to see a character that has always been there to help and to be a support system to others be protected by someone else. I think it can be very fulfilling as a viewer. This effort that was made to write their relationship was so genuine, and it felt so heartfelt as the viewer, that it just made their dynamic one of the strongest in the show. Whether that be romantically or just platonically, their dynamic is probably one of the best in my opinion.

Now, with all that his protectiveness towards Katara immediately evaporate after the last Agni Kai which was pretty shocking, as they didn't get time to be able to talk about what happened. I feel like it removes a piece of genuineness from the show that the characters care for each other. And of course I know a reason why this could have happened is because, well, Kataang and Maiko exist. I think what made their dynamics so strong is because of their protectiveness for one another. Especially, Zuko's protectiveness over Katara. When it was removed in the comics, it felt like a bond had been destroyed because a big part of their dynamic was protecting each other and being there for each other, and having that level of communication. They were protecting each other through their communication and through their support for one another.

How I feel like it backfired on the show is that it created a bit of an emptiness in both of the characters. Especially when they interacted, it felt more distant in the comics, and it felt as if they were strangers. Zuko's writing, which leads to him being protective over her, is so poignant in their relationship that once it is removed it creates a hole in a way it makes his character feel more hollow in his relationship with Katara. It feels like an effort to create a divide and an erasure of their past and how significant his taking lightning for her was. A show that is built of meaningful character relationships took a piece of its own heart out and of its own show and stabbed it in front of all of us when it came to the erasure of Zutara. So they could push the canon ships. They were willing to remove that important element of character relationships for 2 poorly written couples.

I think it creates a level of ingenuity in this show. That is not shocking as many of Katara's other love interests met the same fate of ingenuity, whether that be Jet or Haru. Where she's never able to show her feelings about these people. Which I find quite strange seeing how the show aims to create depth and talk about feelings that actually provoke feelings in you. They don't actually go in-depth with what the leading lady's thoughts are about other people. For all the sake of keeping the focus on Kataang it costs the good writing for Katara to be able to feel complex emotions about the other male interests in her life. And it leads to a rough ending for a strong dynamic like Zuko and Katara that shows their desperation for Kataang at the cost of good writing especially for Katara.

[juniperskye]

Why are you in my head? Pt. 2

Sneak Peek: Eddie and you are soulmates. The legend of soulmates is that you start to hear one another’s thoughts around age 16 – not all the time, but when you’re feeling a strong emotion. It simply flows out of you and into the other, the legend also states that the closer you are, the more you can hear them. **The events of season 4 did NOT happen** I did also use some of the dialogue

Bold are Eddie’s thoughts; Italics are reader’s thoughts. (mind you, they are essentially hearing both sets of thoughts)

Eddie Munson x Fem Sunshine! Reader (Soulmate AU)

Fluff/Angst - Part 1

Word count: 2255

REQUESTS ARE OPEN - not edited - please be kind. Feedback is welcome if it's constructive!

Warnings: My blog is 18+, minors DNI, explicit language, no use of y/n, fem reader, mentions of drugs/sale of drugs/drug use, arguing, mentions of Eddie’s drug addict parents, teeny tiny glimpse into reader’s past, let me know if I missed any!

That being said I do not own the characters portrayed in this story.

So, I have 3 more parts mapped out for this story, making it 5 total parts. Please, Please, PLEASE let me know if you want it!!? I would love to write it.

Holy shit.

Holy shit.

You both let out a quiet chuckle.

All at once, colors were brighter, smells were sweeter, touches were softer. Everything came together in that moment; you couldn’t believe it. Here he was.

Before either of you could introduce yourself, the bell rang out, signaling that lunch was over. How long had you been standing here? Looking at him, seeing him for the first time, it made time stand still.

Don’t go. Not yet.

Neither of you made a move to leave. The cafeteria was slowly emptying around you, the reality of this moment creeping in. The second bell ringing brought you out of your thoughts, you looked into his eyes again and pulled back slightly.

“Shit! I can’t be late on my first day!” You hissed.

“Oh god O’Donnell is gonna kill me!” He facepalmed.

“You have O’Donnell this hour too? Also, you seem to be late to her class a lot.” You giggled.

“You’re in O’Donnell’s right now?” He questioned.

You nodded in confirmation. A grin took over his face, he grabbed your hand and began speed walking to her classroom. As you came up to the door, he looked over at you and nodded.

“Follow my lead.” He whispered.

You walked into the classroom, and everyone fell silent. Mrs. O’Donnell looked over at the two of you, and judging by her expression, she was less than impressed by your tardiness.

“Eddie Munson. I told you that if you were late to my class one more time I would be forced to fail you.” O’Donnell croaked.

“Mrs. O’Donnell, I understand that, but I couldn’t possibly let our new student wander the halls aimlessly.” He explained.

She looked at you, awaiting some sort of confirmation. When she was met with an enthusiastic nod from you, she finally relented. She looked down at her attendance chart and took note of the new student listed on it.

“Welcome to Hawkins High. Now both of you have a seat. Don’t make tardiness a habit.” She bit.

Eddie gestured for you to go first toward the back of the room. Once seated, he couldn’t take his eyes off of you. You couldn’t help the blush that crept its way onto your cheeks. His stare was keeping you from concentrating on Mrs. O’Donnell’s lecture about the debates you’d all be writing and then acting out in a week. You had no clue what the topics were, and you only hoped that she had put all the information on the handout that had been passed back to you.

God you’re so cute. I am so glad it’s you.

A giant shit eating grin enveloped Eddie’s face and you realized he must’ve heard that thought. You realized that you knew his name now, thanks to Mrs. O’Donnell, but he still didn’t know yours. You decided to pull out a pen and your notebook so you could write it down for him.

You caught his attention as you scribbled your name onto the paper, making sure to add a tiny heart next to it. You folded the paper up and passed it to him. If you thought his smile had been big before, well you were wrong, because you were sure this one would split his face in two.

A beautiful name for a beautiful girl.

Your face immediately heated and turned bright red. You just had to make it through a few more minutes, then this class would end, and you get to really talk to Eddie before your next one. Only a few more hours and you might actually get to spend some time with him.

You had called your parents after O’Donnell’s class to let them know you’d be getting a ride home with a friend. You didn’t want to tell them that you had met your soulmate just yet, you figured you should get to know him a little bit first.

When that final bell rang you all but ran out the front doors of the school. Eddie had told you to meet him at his van. As you glanced around the parking lot you could see the cliques, jocks hanging out by fancy sports cars, theater kids sitting on the picnic tables in the courtyard, and the Hellfire boys, well, they were loitering around Eddie’s big beat-up van.

His face lit up when he noticed you, that’s when you ran towards him. As you neared closer, he opened his arms and you leapt into them. He spun you around once before letting your feet land back on solid ground.

I want to kiss you so bad.

Please kiss me.

With that, Eddie leaned down and captured your lips in a sweet kiss. Eddie’s friends whooped behind you, which caused you to blush. You could see the confusion on some of their faces.

“Guys! This is her; this is my soulmate!” Eddie announced.

“Holy shit dude!”

“No way.”

“How much did you pay this girl to fake it for you?”

“Dude she’s way out of your league.”

“That’s awesome man!”

Eddie’s friends all spoke at once, it was hard to understand what any of them were really saying. But the gist of it was that most of them thought you were joking. You figured that his friends probably messed with him like this a lot, perhaps this was how their friendship was, lots of joking and messing around. Your heart hurt a little that his friends would assume you guys were lying, but you figured he’d tell you if it had upset him.

“Guys I’m serious! This is her, we met at lunch!” Eddie exclaimed.

“Hi.” You gave a small wave.

Eddie’s friends were bombarding the two of you with questions, faster than you could take in. It was pretty overwhelming, the way they were all talking over one another. Eddie was spitting out answers as fast as they were throwing questions, and your mind could not keep up.

This is…ok. Woah. Slow down. What is happening?

“Hey guys, I would love to sit and chat with you, but I think I am going to take my soulmate here out for a drive.” Eddie said, as his hand moved to your lower back, and he led you to the van.

“Thank you.” You whispered.

“You don’t have to thank me; I could hear how anxious you were. They can be a lot, especially when you’re not used to being around them all the time.” He laughed sheepishly.

“I appreciate it either way. The whole shared thoughts thing really comes in handy!” You huffed a laugh.

Eddie put his hand out to hold your as he drove you to wherever you were going…you should probably ask him where he is taking you.

That night, you and Eddie were out well passed curfew. You had talked about nothing and everything. You shared all your favorite things, your hopes and dreams, your deepest secrets. Sharing with Eddie was easy. Talking with him was like breathing, it came naturally – you guessed that was the whole “soulmate” thing at play.

It had been one week since that night and honestly, things had been really good. Eddie picked you up for school (he had yet to meet your parents yet), you sat with Eddie and the Hellfire guys at lunch, he walked you to your classes and waited for you at his van after school.

Things were perfect…or so you thought.

Soulmates had this sort of stereotype behind them. People always said soulmates didn’t fight, that the shared thoughts sort of helped to clear things up before they escalated to a full-blown argument. Things were meant to be easy, simple even. It was the fault of this stereotype that the argument threw you off guard.

The thought had slid into your mind during your last class of the day. You were sitting in history, listening to Mr. Warner drone on and on about a war, you were too distracted to remember which one it had been.

Two pre-rolls and a small baggie of shrooms…shit I gotta meet her in 5 minutes!

What the fuck is that about? You couldn’t help the upset feeling creeping into your veins. Pre-rolls had to be weed, and shrooms? Was Eddie buying drugs? And who is the girl he is meeting to get them from? Your mind was racing with all kinds of questions, you felt guilty about being mad at Eddie, but why would he keep this from you? You two had shared so much with one another in the last week.

When the final bell rang, you took your time getting your things from your locker and then slowly made your way to Eddie’s van.

As you approached it, you noticed a severe lack of brown curls. Your stomach sank, realizing that he still must be with her…whoever she was, buying drugs.

Why would he keep this from me?

The thought had hit Eddie like a freight train. He immediately kicked himself, he knew he should have told you about this side hustle of his, but he was scared you would judge him…but now you’d found out because his thoughts are so fucking loud and he’s a total jackass for keeping it from you.

He made quick work of the deal, it had been with some random theater girl and her boyfriend wanting to enjoy their weekend.

Eddie practically ran to his van to meet up with you and he noticed the far off look you were wearing.

“Hey baby!” Eddie reached to pull you into a hug.

“Hi Eddie.” You returned his hug with a noticeable lack of enthusiasm.

“Let’s go for a drive yeah? I want to talk to you about something.” Eddie suggested.

“Oh, yeah, okay.” You nodded.

The two of you got into Eddie’s van and he drove you to the clearing by the lake. There was a heavy awkward silence for a bit, your thoughts just circling round and around in your head. And judging by the look on Eddie’s face, he was clearly experiencing the same thing.

“I need to talk to you about something.” Eddie started.

“Okay…” You waited.

“I realize that a thought of mine may have made its way to you. A thought that had to do with something I have neglected to share with you yet. Listen sweetheart, I uh, I deal. It’s just to make some extra cash, ya know, to help Uncle Wayne out and to save until I have enough to get the hell out of this place.” Eddie rambled on.

“Wait a second. You’re the one dealing the drugs?” You asked.

“Yeah…did you think I was buying?”

“Eddie, you sell drugs? That’s illegal! I don’t understand, you could get a different job if you want to save money. Why would you do something so reckless?” You questioned.

“Woah. What the hell. I know it’s illegal, but I’m smart about it and didn’t you hear me? I am doing this for Wayne…and for us! Dealing makes me way more money than flipping burgers at big boy or renting out movies to asshole pre-teens. You’re my soulmate, I thought you’d at least try to understand!” Eddie snapped.

“Eddie, you purposely kept this from me. Which just proves to me that you know that this is wrong. I know that other jobs may not make you as much money, but at least they’re legal and don’t run the risk of you being sent to PRISON. Because that is where you would end up if you got caught Eddie. Prison! Did you ever stop to think about what that would mean to the people who care about you. To your uncle Wayne, to Dustin, to me? How could you be so careless?” You waved your arms as you spoke, growing more and more frustrated.

“Jesus. Of course you don’t get it!” Eddie sighed.

“What’s that supposed to mean?” You couldn’t believe him right now.

“You were born with a fucking silver spoon in your mouth babe. You have never wanted for anything. Your parents are well off and you have always gone to good schools with new supplies and a nice backpack. I mean fuck, your parents moved you here, set up this incredible room for you, bought you a car, and still ask you what you need or want. I live in a trailer and before that, I was growing up in an even smaller trailer that my parents were doing and selling crack out of. I am doing what I have to, to make sure I am set up when it comes time for me to leave Hawkins.” Eddie was practically yelling by the end of his rant.

You sat there, your mouth opening, then closing again. You weren’t sure what to say. Eddie had clearly gone through some really difficult shit that you hadn’t been aware of, but he was also assuming that your life had been perfect, which couldn’t have been further from the truth.

This conversation had truly made you feel sick to your stomach. How was this meant to work. How was Eddie meant to be your soulmate if he thought so little of you. And how were you meant to be his soulmate if you couldn’t agree with what was clearly a part of his life. You clearly had a lot to think about and you couldn’t do that right now, not with the tension that was beginning to suffocate you in Eddie’s van. So you did what you thought best.

“Take me home please.” You whispered.

[almonds-nsfw-world]

Death's Embrace - Blade

.ೃ࿐𝐌𝐀𝐒𝐓𝐄𝐑𝐋𝐈𝐒𝐓 : ̗̀➛

-‘๑’- summary -- you heal Blade's wounds, the smell of his blood clings to the air and you worry for him since his healing abilities cannot heal everything. (sfw)

-‘๑’- pairing -- Blade x gn! reader

-‘๑’- status -- stellaron hunters/ co-workers

-‘๑’- situation -- safe for everyone to read, mentions of death and desire for peace, canon personality, angst, perhaps some comfort.

"It's not healthy for you to keep on doing this...just because you can heal yourself doesn't mean your abilities will heal it all", you whispered, the smell of bitter iron clinging to the air like flies to a trap.

It sent a shiver down your spine.

"Sooner or later, you'll tire yourself out", your fingers worked on wrapping a bandage around his bicep, covering the stitches you had sown into his skin while the scars that adorned his skin caused your eyes to fill with a sadness that plagued you like the mara that's bound to his torment.

"I don't need your help, nor your pity", his words were firm and direct and his voice hoarse from exhaustion, his eyes closed whilst he's perched upon the softness of his mattress, sitting crossed legged with you beside him, "I'm only doing this to ease Kafka's worries. Not yours."

Your gaze fell, his blood staining the skin of your fingertips before you lowered your fingers, grabbing another set of bandages, "It doesn't matter", you softly spoke. Your fingers reached to grab his hand, feeling his muscles tense and the pain to shoot through his system as you began to undo the old wrapping.

The smell of death reminded you that only death could truly ease his soul should he not open it to the opportunities of peace.

Or perhaps death is a peace he has been longing for all these years.

You wouldn't know for you only knew certain pieces of his past based on what Kafka and Silver Wolf spoke of.

You sighed, gently applying a soothing ointment to his tainted wrists, "...Why do you wish to turn yourself into a blade?" You couldn't help but ask him, shifting your gaze upwards to study the details of his face.

He slowly opened his red eyes tinted in a yellowish hue, bringing those sharp pupils of his to glance into your own, "It is none of your business. You may be loyal to the cause, but your questions will end up with my blade against your neck should you provoke me." His jaw tightened and his gaze narrowed, "Elio sees your worth, so I shall spare you. But do not pry into what is not meant to be disturbed. You'll find yourself dealing with consequences you'll regret."

Your lips parted, causing you to blink as your fingers rested against his own, "...You sound as though you're speaking from experience. But I'm sorry...I didn't mean to intrude." You cast your gaze down, continuing on with bandaging his wounds.

His eyes studied you, taking in every emotion that filled your features before he tore away his gaze and allowing his eyelids to close and for the silence to envelope you both.

The sound of you standing up and gathering your things echoed through his ears, causing him to part his eyelids and watch you leave while the only thought that rang through his mind was...

"Peace. To find peace I must destroy all that I am in hopes to feel death's embrace." His words made you pause, your fingers tightening around the basket of items and ointments as you glanced at him over your shoulder, "Death is an escape...but not all escapes lead to a peaceful victory", your words echoed softly like a wind that caressed his skin, his gaze unfaltering as he heard your words.

He closed his eyes, not saying anything else as you left his room.

"I had died a long time ago."

©2024 almond, do not steal, use or repost elsewhere.

[ask-funnybunnydoll]

Hi!

I think I have to move on.

You may have noticed that all of a sudden my posts have become less and less frequent. That's not on purpose I simply don't have the motivation to keep this ask blog going. I made this blog at the peak of my TADC hyperfixation because I knew it would give me the boost to work. At the start I made like, what? 2 a day, wowzas! Then it became like every other day posts. It's not that I don't enjoy the blog, the ship, the asks. Hell, the asks were the best part of this, I love just seeing what you guys come up with for these three and I get to do the even more fun part of drawing the answer.

But I still have no motivation to keep this going. And I have fixated on something else if you follow my main.

So, thank you for being here and still liking my posts even if I hadn't posted often. This was the most fun I've had and being my first ask blog I ever created just makes it more important to me.

I probably won't ever revive this blog but I'll keep it open for you. And if you want to see what the story I originally planned out was gonna be then check below the cut! Or if you wanna stay curious and theorize then just scroll by. Thank you again, hope ya have a great day and year. I hope my shit was at least okay to you.

I'm not gonna lie. Most of the stuff was just created along the way of drawing. I was like, huh this would be cool let's add that in. And ofc I didn't get to any juicy lore in this but it would've been rushed because I didn't plan beforehand... which you probably could tell xd

For Pomni, here's the plot twist: she's dead and her conscience was updated into the game to keep her somewhat alive. She worked in the place that created the game, she even took part in putting people in there. The entire game was just an expirement to test if immortality was possible, but of course.. everyone goes insane in there so they have to keep on and keep on trying with more and more people to get anywhere. They wait until someone goes to edge of absolute insanity and that's when they take them out of the game, their bodies are still kept alive and they go back to normal. They forget everything that happened while in the game. For Pomni she died just after her conscience was converted to the game, for others they were forced to go while alive. Who killed Pomni? Well, her boss, the head of the experimentation. Why? Idk 😭

For Jax, I gave him a dark story. He was isolated in his home and kept away from the outside world, which is why he lacks empathy, because he simply doesn't know how to feel that way when he never really had knowledge of emotions outside or even inside his home. His father was emotionally and physically ab4sive so.. that didn't help. He latched onto his mother the most but they never saw eachother often. That's all I had for him in mind.

For Ragatha, she lived in the country on her own land with her husband. Yup! She had a husband and a daughter too. Husband was a total jerk and she couldn't leave because she didn't want their kid to experience separated parents. She's a doll in the game because it resembles the doll she made for her daughter.

I also had some plot that I made up in my mind. Like.... Pomni at the end would be the last one alone in the digital circus. That being since she's dead she would just be yknow. Dead if she left the game. Jax and Ragatha leave but only because Pomni forces them. Again don't know how, I probably would have made it up while I went along with the story. So, Pomni is just there alone, with Caine. And she lives like that for eternity. She doesn't go insane anymore and it isn't as lonely as it used to feel like. It would feel like home kind of. But she would be there, longing for her partners forever unless she decides one day to just. Yknow, die..

Also since Jax and Ragatha would forget everything after they leave the game, they just don't remember they were in a relationship and would live their lives like before. Sad and lonely.

Goodness, I forget I make the most sad stories ever sometimes 😭

[diazfox]

https://www.tumblr.com/diazfox/747945105989779456/lets-all-be-honest-the-fandom-doesnt-care-about

It’s interesting this anon seems to be confused how buck Tommy people are being told they are fetishizing things, because all I keep seeing is Buck Tommy endgamers posting how hot they are. How they want to see them kiss over and over and over. How they keep going and watching the one kiss they did have for the 40th time in a row. Or I see them ranting and raving how Tommy’s so nice and patient with Buck. (which that’s called being a decent human being??) but I’d like to know what they considering his behavior when he made a very pointed comment about closets in front of Eddie and Marisol? Knowing full well Buck wasn’t out to anyone? Or when he just got in an Uber and left Buck there without communicating fully? And never actually apologized to him for it? Just a I didn’t want you to feel pressured. Which again A) communicate that before leaving him in front of a restaurant, and B) How was any of his reaction meant to not make him feel pressured. And not to excuse Buck because his reaction was not good at all during that date but ✨he apologized✨

But the people on the buddie side are posting how they want buddie, the relationship they have seen for 6 years be built from the ground up, the way their foundation has been solidified, the way they are each others best friend, their person, the way they love each other, the way they co parent Chris, the way they are there for each other like no one else, the way it’s been nurtured, the people who want this and to not just settle, because that’s exactly what it would be. Oh we got bi Buck confirmed let’s just settle for the first random person he comes across. Which is insane to me that people are actually ok with. Like He’s been on 1 bad date with Tommy. He’s kissed him once. And he’s known him for, per the show, 2 weeks. 2 weeks vs 6 years of blood, sweat, tears, love, vulnerability, emotional connection, chemistry, family building, trust.

this ate anon, thank you!

the 2 weeks vs 6 years really helps to put things into perspective and i'm glad people like u can see where i'm coming from instead of just screaming at me that i'm being insecure about my ship (what? are we 10 year olds?) and/or being a bucktommy hater and not letting people enjoy things (idk how many more times i'm gonna have to repeat that i hope nothing but the best for bucktommy)

i 100% support the bi rep and everything bucktommy bc its fucking adorable and buck deserves to be pursued, to be flustered and be on the receiving end instead of giving all the time. but let's keep our eye on the ball please? let's not settle for something just bc it's canon or bc it's enough. let's take a moment to reflect deeply about why we want to give so much support to a ship we've known for a grand total of 4 episodes and want an endgame for them when we barely know tommy (and a good part of what we know is alr quite controversial to begin with.)

[robanilla-writes]

Dreamtale <s>Drabbles</s> Part 3, in which the brothers bond over a good meal

about 1.3k words | CW: Self-hatred / self-worth issues. Implied abuse. Bittersweet.

Part One | Part Two

---

Nightmare was very careful. He placed a ring of stones around his little fire and kept the flame low, relying more on the slow burn of the coals. He hums as he works, using what sparks of magic he can to fashion himself a small knife, which he uses to cut through leaves and grass and the fish he managed to catch in the stream nearby. He had been foraging today and had found himself some wild herbs and fruits too. Nature was a rather neutral force, but Nightmare had done a lot of reading as he prepared- he knew what to look for to keep Dream safe.

Dream had volunteered to head into the village and trade for spices and other useful tools that might help Nightmare cook. He was hoping for a cutting board, a pan, and maybe a plate or two- but he wasn't about to be picky. He looks up in the direction of the village at the thought of his brother.

Nightmare taps a rhythm along to his melody, which turns into a yearning call.

“I'm worried about him,” Nightmare whispers to himself. “I feel a weight in my chest. It feels bad, but this can also be good, because my worry means that I care about Dream. Overall, positive.”

Nightmare continues to hum his tune, pausing every now and then to check in with himself. He thinks he's in a pretty good mood today, despite the way he also feels bad. It's weird and confusing. He's trying to get better. This is also not bad.

Is he bad?

No. The villagers are wrong about that. Nightmare is the Guardian of Negativity. This is not bad or good. It is an overall neutral position.

Nightmare pokes at his coals.

“Mother, you made me to be the opposite of Dream, right?”

Nightmare sits still, and listens. His aura shifts in the wind, and his magic glows from his eye sockets. In his chest is the thumping of a weight, neither heart nor soul, that is ever confident of the answer.

Yes.

“Then… is Dream good?”

Nightmare stops breathing as he waits for her answer, not wanting to miss a single sign of her response.

Yes.

Nightmare curls up tighter, bringing his knees up so that he could rest on them. He flips the fish, avoiding a burn to the other side. He takes a berry from his small stash and nibbles on it.

Of course Dream was good. What a silly question. He was pure positivity, after all. Everyone liked him. It was only natural.

Nightmare’s whisper shakes a bit as he says to himself, “I feel a weight in my skull. I am upset, but I shouldn't be. This is bad. Overall, negative.”

That's what he is. A being of pure negativity.

Nightmare frowns. “Why do I feel other things if I am supposed to be bad? It is not always that I feel bad. ”

As he waits for a reply, he takes his fish off of the heat. Dream should have been back by now.

Then again, why would he hurry back to Nightmare? Dream probably felt so drained all the time, dealing with his heavy negative aura and bad emotions. The village wasn't safe, but…

He couldn't fault Dream for preferring the villagers’ company, who all loved him, and showered him in praise and gifts and hugs-

Your vessel is flawed and imperfect, child.

Nightmare looks down at his hands. He <i>was</i> flawed and imperfect. Which had to mean Dream was everything he wasn't; his brother was good, he was beautiful, he was loved.

Nightmare wasn't satisfied with this, and something within him kept pounding against his bones, cracking itself further and leaking through the gaps in his body. There was so much magic rumbling around in his vessel that it spilled from his eye sockets and dripped to the grass.

“Nighty?”

He jolts up from his position, wiping at his face instinctively, but only making his tears more obvious. He bites his tongue and looks up at his twin, doing his best to school his expression. It wouldn't do to put the burden of his negativity on his shoulders.

Dream frowns, and Nightmare hates it when he does that.

He glances over Dream's body and sees new bruises on his wrists. He glares at them- Dream's vessel was supposed to be perfect and good. Yet here he is, damaged and exhausted, feeling negative about… him. Dream takes a step towards him, limping as he does.

Maybe Dream was perfect and good, but only when Nightmare wasn't there with his badness to taint him.

That doesn't make sense.

Nightmare reaches out to Dream's hand, and Dream takes it as an invitation to drop down by his side. He is graceful about the movement, and Nightmare can see the way his aura glows. He sets his spoils down, and while Nightmare soothes his aggravated bones, Dream's other hand reaches out to hold his face gently. He has a question in his gaze, and Nightmare just shakes his head in response.

Dream doesn't accept that. He makes Nightmare look at him again and asks out loud this time.

“What's wrong?”

When Nightmare makes a point to refocus on healing him, Dream just sighs. He knocks his skull gently against Nightmare's, staying there for a moment.

Nightmare takes as much comfort as he feels he deserves.

Dream pats his cheek and moves away to collect the bounty of the day; a pan and a wooden board, a few small pouches of salt, pepper, and something red- Nightmare wonders if it's supposed to be spicy. Since when did Dream like spicy?

“Do you know what kind of fish that is?”

Nightmare sniffles, rubbing at his eye sockets. “Mother said it- uhm. It looked like a trout of some kind.”

“It looks like plenty for the both of us. Nice catch,” Dream says.

Nightmare thanks him, and takes the wooden board from the pile. With his small knife, he cuts into the fish so he and Dream would have equal halves before he seasons them. It would have been better to wait until Dream returned for this step, he thinks, so the seasoning could cook into the fish. He'd just have to try that next time.

Nightmare sniffs, and realizes a moment after that he was experiencing a negative emotion. That wouldn't do! He was cooking for Dream- the whole reason was to give his brother a happy, positivity filled meal. He pauses in his motions and wonders if he was an idiot for believing that he could manage that.

Dream hums. “Thank you for cooking, Nighty. Was it fun?”

Nightmare blinks. He looks over to Dream as his thoughts are interrupted. He had to backtrack for a moment to give Dream an honest answer.

“I… yes. I did.”

“Good! That makes me happy,” Dream says with a grin.

Nightmare stares at him.

“Me having fun makes you happy?”

Dream nods. “Of course it does. I love you.”

He says it like it was obvious. Effortless. Inevitable- because, well, of course it was. Nightmare smiles, the thumping pound against his ribcage easing.

“I love you, too.”

Dream's eye lights flash molten gold, and his aura balloons to engulf the world in that love. He grins so brightly, and Nightmare can't help but grin back.

He turns to the meager meal he's prepared, and with a loving touch, finishes it off with a sprig of rosemary on each side.

Dream claps his hands in a happy stim, and laughs, buoyant and joyful, and Nightmare is all at once certain that if he was able to make Dream happy then he could live with being in his shadow.

When they finally take a bite, the bridge of their noses scrunch up in unison.

Nightmare had added too much salt.

They look at each other and burst out in giggles at the same time.

They'll be fine, Nightmare thinks. As long as they could make each other happy… as long as they stuck together… as long as they tried.

They'll be fine.

[sc0tters]

jacob finding out it why emma broke up with him🥺

Jim and Ellen were 100% on the other side of this door listening so they could go yell at their sons for not apologizing to the couple.

He waited to hear that from her “y’know this is not how I imagined seeing this place.” Jacob confessed as he took in the sight of her teenhood bedroom “how did you think you’d see it?” She asked as she cocked her head resting up on her pillow.

Jacob sighed as he walked over to the edge of her bed “well maybe a little less heart problems and you were a little more my girlfriend.” The last part made her run her fingers through her hair “if I was bad to you in anyway then I’m sorry but please just tell me what I did.” His hand reached for hers as tears formed in her eyes.

Emma knew she needed to tell him “Quinn said that if I didn’t then you wouldn’t be a Canuck.” Her confession made him feel sick “I didn’t want to be the one to hold you back from your dream.” Her voice was barely a whisper as it made his heart break.

Jacob didn’t know how to respond “you couldn’t hold me back from my dream.” He shook his head now feeling the tears form in his own eyes “not when it’s you.” His words made her look up at him.

They were both emotional “I love you so much.” Emma mumbled making Jacob smile “you are worth so much more than hockey to me.” He announced as he cupped her cheeks and pulled her in for a kiss.

Honestly when she first went into the hospital Jacob was all she could think about, so to have him back by her side it made her feel like she was on cloud nine.

As his lips grazed hers all Jacob could think about was calling out her brothers for being so horrible to her that year, after all they forget her birthday.