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thislovintime · 10 months

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During the filming of 33 ⅓ Revolutions Per Monkee, November 1968.

Peter leaving The Monkees, post 3 of 3.

“I just basically think that I wasn’t feeling a part of it anymore already by that point, I’d already felt like I was odd man out, and of course I quit almost immediately thereafter.” - Peter Tork, Headquarters radio, 1989

“I’d always had deep doubts, ever since the session for ‘Last Train To Clarksville.’ I walked in there with my guitar and Tommy Boyce and Bobby Hart looked at me with derision and scorn, like, ‘Guitar in your hand, you fool!’ That was the end of it for me. Right there I was done with The Monkees in large measure. I struggled against it with some success at one point. But after Headquarters nobody wanted to be a recording group anymore. I did what I could, but I didn’t feel like there was any reason for me to be there anymore. I wanted to be in a rock group.” - Peter Tork, Head 1994 liner notes

“While we were making the TV Special, knowing I was not going to be there any longer, I just thought to myself — I don’t have to worry about this thing — and I just let everything slide off my back.” - Peter Tork, NME, January 25, 1969

“We never thought of replacing him — there’s only one Peter Tork in the world.” - Michael Nesmith, Melody Maker, March 1, 1969

Q: “So, when you left, did you want to be known as the former Monkee or did you want to erase that part of your past —” Peter Tork: “I tried to erase it.” Q: “— and start anew.” PT: “I tried to erase it completely.” Q: “How do you do that?” PT: “Well, you just don’t do anything connected with it, just absolutely refuse to have anything to do with it.” - NPR, June 1983 (x)

“Headquarters was by far the best album in the sense that it was us. It was honest, it was pure, and we had a great time. Peter says that the reason he quit was because after we did this album, we decided we weren’t going to be a group anymore. It broke his heart, because Headquarters was the whole reason why he’d become one of The Monkees.” - Micky Dolenz, Headquarters 1995 liner notes

“[Micky] did a great job [drumming] on Headquarters. [But] he wasn’t going to do it again, and there was nothing you could do [to change his mind]. We had to go back in the studio. He said, ‘Peter, you can’t go back.’ Eddie Hoh did the drumming [on Pisces, Aquarius, Capricorn & Jones Ltd., save for ‘Cuddly Toy’]. Chip [Douglas] got him ‘cause he could read [music]. The result is that you get directed stuff, there’s no group interaction, which is why I wanted the group to be on the album in the first place. You listen to Beatle albums and one of the things that makes them great is that they have found ways to use who they have to get what they want without asking anyone to do what they couldn’t do. That’s what makes group music happen. That’s all I ever hoped for, and I had it for like a minute on Headquarters.” - Peter Tork, Pisces, Aquarius, Capricorn and Jones Ltd. 2007 liner notes

“[Peter] admits he harbored a lot of bitterness for many years. The main bone of contention was the TV show’s producers insistence that the band members not play their own instruments. [...] ‘I was devastated at first. I originally approached The Monkees in terms of my own desire to be part of a genuine pop-rock music group. I felt like it was a professional slight to me. Like I was being excluded.’” - The Bellingham Herald, August 5, 1996

“Peter wasn’t satisfied musically [with The Monkees]. He’d been led to believe he could express himself musically. He was frustrated.” - Davy Jones, News-Press, May 14, 1977

“‘I was mostly interested in the Monkees as a musical entity,’ Thorkelson commented. ‘We didn’t fully realize that potential, and I felt ripped off.’” - The Bowling Green News Revue, May 24, 1979 (x)

“We’re all sorry to lose Peter but it was all very friendly and I personally can understand what is going through his mind, He’s a clever guy, you know, and he gets kinda restless sometimes. You should see the books he plows through… real deep stuff with words about a mile long.” - Davy Jones, Monkees Monthly, February 1969

“Peter and I were the bulk of the playing ability because we were musicians. But when Peter left it rather unnerved Davy and [Micky] — and I changed my mind [about quitting]. After all, the personal appearances were pretty well satisfying, the music was fun, and the whole thing was fairly lucrative. And Davy and [Micky] left alone would have been in real trouble.” - Michael Nesmith, Disc & Music Echo, September 19, 1970

“If the truth be known, the day Peter quit was probably the happiest day of Mike’s life. They’d never really gotten along, right from day one. Mike had always perceived of Peter as untenable, and they’d always been adversarial, if not outright combative. Finally he was out of the way. Now Mike could get on with doing what he had always wanted to do, make the Monkees his group. And I was happy to go along. I respected Mike and his music and was quite prepared to go along for the ride. [...] I saw Peter’s abdication as a minor setback at most. Basically, I think the three of us really thought that would be able to go on, just as we had before, and nobody would even notice there were only three people on stage instead of four — after all Peter didn’t sing on many of the songs anyway. How naive. […] I suppose it depends on whom you talk to, but as far as I’m concerned, the day Peter quit was the day the music died (apologies to Don McLean).” - Micky Dolenz, I’m A Believer: My Life of Monkees, Music, And Madness (1993)

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brienneoftarth1989 · 1 year

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“So reader is the daughter of a blacksmith, so she’s pretty strong, and believes she can hold her own when making deliveries between two villages. However, on the way back home, a small group of outlaws decide to have a bit of ‘fun’. Deciding she would rather die than let anything happen to her, reader fights back. Just as they are going to kill her, Brienne comes in the scene and fights them off, tending to readers sounds and helping to comfort her” - requested by @reddragon30000

I Would Rather Die

Brienne of Tarth x fem reader

Summary: read request

Warnings: implied sexual assault / rape, graphic fighting

Requests open

———————————

Working with your father was one of the best experiences you have encountered in your life so far. I mean you were only 15 years old so it wasn’t like you have lived much yet. Other girls your age were preparing themselves for marriage and learning all this stuff that a woman should know. However none of that stuff ever interested you.

This may be because you grew up with your father raising you. Unfortunately your mother died in childbirth which left your father raising you on his own. You loved your father though and loved the path he has led you down. Instead of preparing you for marriage he is teaching you how to forge swords and armour.

You couldn’t wait until your father taught you more and more. At the moment you seemed to know the basics. You knew how to heat the metal and how to cool it. That was all your father was willing to teach you when you were younger. But now you are old enough he is starting to teach you how to shape the metal to its desired shape.

However when your father is not teaching you how to forge correctly he has you out making deliveries to the local villages. You didn’t mind this as it kept you busy plus you could go out and explore. It was until one day that everything changed.

The day started like most others, watching your father teach you how to forge correctly before sending you out to make your deliveries for the day. You were lucky that due to the amount of swords and armour you have to move around you managed to build up a lot of muscle which meant you could defend yourself if need be however your father did forge you a sword just in case you ever needed it.

“Ok so all the swords and armour you need to deliver are over in those crates. They need to be loaded up into the wagon and need to be delivered to these addresses in the local villages” your father said as he handed over a piece of paper that stated all the addresses you needed to deliver to that day.

“Ok father. Not a problem and I will be back at some point this afternoon” you said smiling at your father as you turned around and walked over to the crates that contained the weapons. You lifted one of the crates grunting as it took all your strength as you lifted it and walked out to the wagon sliding the crate onto the back of it.

You repeated the same task with the other three crates. You were a bit puffed out when you had finally moved all the crates so you headed into your little home to grab some water and a small something to eat to have on your journey.

Once you knew you had everything you needed for your journey and all the deliveries were secure on your wagon you jumped onto the seat at the front grabbing the reins of your horses, giving them a slight whip indicating you wanted them to move forward.

“See you later, father!” you shouted behind your shoulder so he could hear you. “See you later, y/n, stay safe!” he yelled back at you knowing that all he cared about was you getting back home safely. He had told you before he didn’t care about the deliveries as long as I got home in one piece. He couldn’t afford to lose me like he lost my mother.

Making deliveries was always a bit of a lonely task. You didn’t have anyone to talk to so normally you would spend half your time singing away to yourself and sometimes you would just talk away to yourself. You must look mad to people who see you talking away to yourself but it always seems to calm you down.

As you arrived at the first village you grabbed the paper your father gave you and checked the addresses that were written down. The first delivery was at a butchers and as you looked under that address you saw that you were delivering next door to the bakers. You pulled up to the shops bringing your horses to a halt.

You jumped off your wagon and headed to the back bringing two of the crates forward. You opened up the top of the crates making sure that what you were giving them was the correct order. You were indeed correct when you saw the crates were filled with a number of small and large knives. You father didn’t just forge large swords and armour, he made a collection of different sized knives that the local shops could use.

“Morning y/n, how are you this morning?” Mr Hogan asked you. Mr Hogan was the local Butcher in this village and you normally delivered to him every month when he sent off a number of his knives to be reforged or sharpened. “Morning Mr Hogan. I’m doing well this morning. Is there any chance you can get Mrs Connolly’s attention as I have an order for her too just while I grab both of your stuff” you said pulling each crate off the wagon one by one.

“Of course, no problem y/n” he said as he knocked on the door of the bakers. “Where do you want your order sir? '' you asked, carrying the crate in your arms. “Just on the counter in the shop my dear” he smiled back at you. With that you took the crate inside placing it where he had asked. When you came out both Mr Hogan and Mrs Connolly were standing by your wagon.

“Morning Mrs Connolly. I have you order right here” you smiled at the older woman. You picked up the other crate before following her inside and placing it where she wanted it. As you went back outside Mr Hogan was standing there with your payment and Mrs Connolly followed out after you with hers. You thanked them both and would most likely see them soon before continuing your journey to the next village.

It took a bit longer to get to the next village as it was further away but you didn’t mind and just continued to sing away to yourself. When you finally arrived at the next village you basically went through the whole ordeal again, this time however delivering to another blacksmith and a fletchers. The two men gave you your payment to which all your deliveries were now complete. Finally you could head back home to continue your lessons with your father.

As you were heading back home you decided you needed to stretch your legs. Jumping off the wagon you walked alongside your horses still holding their reins so they wouldn’t go too far. After about half an hour of walking alongside the horses you heard a few male voices from behind you. It didn’t worry you too much as many people used this road so you just assumed it was other people on their own journeys. However when the voices started to get a lot closer to you and didn’t pass by you started to get worried.

Were they following you? Why haven’t they gone around you yet? There was plenty of room for them to get around. You decided to encourage your horses to move to the side and bring them to a halt so the people could get around you. Plus it would make you feel safer with them not tailing you.

When you stopped you half expected to watch as they walked past but they didn’t. Instead the group of outlaws just surrounded you and your wagon. “Umm…can I help you?” You asked, trying to sound confident. “Yeah we want you” one of the men smirked at you, eyeing you up and down. “W..what do you mean” you asked genuinely confused as to what they could possibly want with you.

“Oh come on sweet girl. You’re telling me no one has ever paid the slightest attention to you” one of the men smirked at you. They’re not gonna do what you think they’re gonna do. You’re only a child. Why would they possibly want you?

“I’m only 15 years old. I’ve got nothing you could want” you said trying to sound innocent and like you don’t have a clue what they’re on about. “Oh but that’s where you’re wrong” another piped up. “You’ve got an innocent body which we want to use. So you’re coming with us” he said, grabbing your arm.

There is no way you are going to let this happen to you. You would rather die than let them use your body for their pleasure. When they grabbed you your body immediately reacted which caused you to startle the horses. You watched as your escape plan ran away. You were fucked.

You grabbed your sword from the sheaf drawing it in front of you. “Oh is that how we are playing this then little girl. It may be better to have you exhausted before we use you. Will be less of a struggle for us” he laughed as you watched him and his men draw their swords.

You prepared yourself for a battle. If it came to it you would kill yourself in order to not be used as their little fuck toy. You swing your sword over and over, managing to kill one of the men and disarm the other. You were proud that you managed to do that.

However you didn’t expect one of the men to come from behind you causing you to quickly trip over your feet. Your sword now out of reach you stared at the men who now had blades pointed at your neck. “That’s it you little bitch. You’re in for it now” they said, throwing their swords on the ground.

The leader picked you up by the neck pinning you to a tree. You couldn’t breathe. You then watched his arm draw back and then collide with your face over and over again. Eventually dropping you to the ground another man came over kicking you in the stomach before grabbing his dagger and carving lines into your face and arms.

Everything hurts. Maybe they would just let you die. You hoped they would but then you heard one of them start talking again. “You really thought you could defend yourself. Look at what you’ve got yourself into now. You killed one of our own so maybe we should just kill you. Nah you don’t deserve that. We are gonna keep you as ours and tort….”

You were horrified to find he had stopped talking when his head rolled next to your feet. You let out this deafening scream, scared that this person was here for you too. However it wasn’t until they started killing the other men around you did you realise that they were defending you.

You didn’t know what to do. So you did the one thing you did know, you curled up into a ball trying to protect yourself from anymore harm letting out the occasional sob due to the amount of pain coursing through your body. Then there was silence and you heard footsteps getting closer to you.

“Hey sweet girl are you ok?” you heard a female voice ask you. Looking up you came face to face with a blonde haired woman. All you could do was shake your head no and start sobbing again. “Oh darling it's going to be ok. What did they do to you” she said, sitting down next to you wrapping her arms around your body.

“Th..they tri..tired t.to..r.ra..rape me! I tried to fi..fight them o..off but th..they were too st..strong” you cried into the woman’s armour. “Oh sweetheart. Don’t worry they are gone now. My name is Ser Brienne of Tarth but you can just call me Brienne. Now do you have any family that we can get you too?” she asked.

“Yes, my father and I live in the next village along. I just hope my horses and wagon managed to get back there. The fight startled them which caused them to bolt” you said in between little whimpers. “Ok well I’m going to get you cleaned up and then we are going to get you back to your father” she said moving aside to go and grab some supplies from her horse.

She came back with a small bag which you could only assume contained her first aid supplies. “Now let's fix you up” she said smiling down at you. Watching Brienne was like watching an artist work. Brienne damped a bit of cloth with salt water before whipping away the blood that surrounded your cuts. This way it meant it would be clean and disinfected. Your body tensed as the salt water caused a sting all over.

“I’m sorry darling. It will be over soon” Brienne whispered, trying to be gentle with you. Brienne then used clean fabric to cover up any massive cuts to stop any dirt and bugs getting into them. “Here open your mouth,” she said, grabbing a small bottle out of the bag. “What is that?” you asked curious as to what it could be. “It’s milk of the poppy. A painkiller to help with the pain. Now open up” she said to you.

You did as you were told, opening your mouth slightly as you felt a single drop hit your tongue. “That should be enough for your little body. Now come on let's get you home” Brienne said picking you up bridal style walking over to her horse. She placed you gently on her horse and she jumped on after. “Hold on young one” she smiled leaning over her shoulder.

She instructed her horse to run, taking you both to your village quickly. When you arrived you saw your father standing by the wagon looking terrified about where you could have gotten too. “Y/N! There you are. Oh my what happened to you” he asked panicking as he took you off the horse and carried you inside with Brienne tailing behind.

“She was attacked by a group of outlaws. By the sound of it they wanted to take her and use her but I managed to intervene before they managed to take her anywhere. Unfortunately they were already beating her when I arrived. I have treated her wounds and given her milk of the poppy to help with the pain” Brienne said calmly looking at you with concern.

“Thank you so much for bringing her home to me. I couldn’t afford to lose her as well. I didn’t catch your name” your father said to Brienne. “It’s ok sir. My name is Ser Brienne of Tarth. Her wounds will need to be checked daily and cleaned regularly.” Brienne said, smiling at you. “Of course Ser Brienne, thank you again. If you are ever in the area again you will always have a place in our home. Y/n owes you her life” your father said cradling your frail body.

“I appreciate that sir. Now y/n stay safe out there for me. I will be back to make sure you pulled through. Also keep up that sword fighting. You have great skills, young one. If you ever want to learn just send a Raven to Winterfell. That is where I reside” Brienne said, giving you a small hug goodbye.

“Thank you so much Brienne for everything you have done. Once I have gained my strength I may have to take you up on that offer” you smiled at the knight before sleep finally overtook your body. Brienne left soon after and you could only dream of her.

#gwendoline christie #gwendolineuniverse #fanfics #brienne of tarth #brienne x reader #comfort #caring #ser brienne #brienne of tarth x reader #ser brienne of tarth #knight of the seven kingdoms #blacksmith #fight scene #outlaws #deliveries #training #fluff #i would rather die #brienneoftarth1989

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starsfic · 2 years

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Hung Up

Xiaojiao realizes her feelings and tries to confess to Red.

It doesn't go well.

AO3

(Inspired by this TikTok: https://www.tiktok.com/@nugget.drea/video/7122292045598788907?_t=8U8IdqQYjVe&_r=1)

A phone call wasn’t the right way to do this.

Even more so a phone call Long Xiaojiao didn’t really trust would hold. But this was an important call.

Xiaojiao was confessing her feelings to Red Son.

Yes, the timing was...bad. She was in the middle of a summer-long family reunion. The site where they were meeting and having parties had a weird effect on electronics, making them unable to work, with no real Wi-Fi and a signal that almost never came. But her realization had come sharp and hard and left Xiaojiao bouncing the entire day.

She liked Red. Her friend, her wonderful teacher, who, despite his determination to keep a mask up, was so sweet and kind. She was the only person he called by their actual name. His cry of “Long Xiaojiao!” buzzed in her veins, the strongest point in her memory of fighting against Lady Bone Demon.

She huddled in the guest bedroom she had been given, gripping her dragon plushie tight. Her chest was a knot of nerves as the phone finally, finally began to ring.

It felt like an eternity before it picked up with “Hello?”

“Red!” she said, nearly toppling over and barely catching herself. Nope, she couldn’t lose the signal! “Hi! How are you!”

“I’m good?” Red said, sounding confused. “I thought you didn’t have a signal.”

“We don’t, I’m holding onto it.” Xiaojiao took a deep breath. She had to focus. “Red, you’re a wonderful person.” She heard him make a confused but accepting noise. “And...” She took a deep breath. Now or never. “I got a crush on you.” Silence. Xiaojiao sped on, determination crackling in her veins. “And I like you. I like-”

Nothing.

She glanced at her phone in confusion. It still had a signal.

...had he hung up on her?

The knot in Xiaojiao’s chest came undone. A wave of sadness hit her. Was...this Red’s way of rejecting her?

Tears began to roll down her cheeks.

-_-

It felt, somehow, both too long and too short before the reunion came to an end.

Xiaojiao knew her parents were worried. Ever since her failed phone confession, the sadness ate at her. She hadn't been as energetic nor had she been suggesting stuff to do. She had tagged along, but the desire to find a blanket to crawl under and cry tugged at her heels.

The moment they entered the state, Long Xiaojiao finally slapped herself. No, she couldn’t be glum about this. She had never been this upset over somebody not liking her back. So Red didn’t like her that way, that was fine! Maybe they could talk it out later. Her phone beeped and she turned it on, smiling at the few dozen voicemails, all sent from Xiaotian.

Right now, she had voicemails to listen to.

It was the fifth one that made her stop and re-listen.

Something crumbled in her chest.

Oh.

Xiaojiao felt her hand shake, tears blurring her vision, as she pressed PLAY on the voicemail again.

“Hey, Xiaojiao! I’m so sorry because you’re probably gonna be the last one to hear about this, having no signal sucks! But…me and Red are together!” According to the timestamp, it was left a month before Red had hung up on her and her confession.

Had she really been gone a few months?

Xiaotian’s voicemail was still blaring in her ears.

He didn’t know. Hell, Xiaojiao herself hadn’t known she had a crush on Red before she left. Xiaotian had no idea she loved Red, that he had stolen her love away.

No, Red couldn’t be stolen. He simply didn’t like her like that.

Fuck, she had confessed to Xiaotian’s boyfriend.

“Are you okay, sweetheart?” Her mother looked back at her with concern in her eyes, clearly hearing the sob she was biting back.

“Uh, yeah,” Xiaojiao sat up and wiped at her eyes, hoping to all the gods that she hadn’t started crying. “I just heard…some really good news, that’s all.” Her mom didn’t seem to believe her, but she turned away anyway as the city came into view.

Soon enough, Pigsy’s Noodles came into view as well. Her heart sank and jumped all at once as something else popped up. Tang and Pigsy watched from the shop’s windows with grins. A brown-furred monkey, wearing Xiaotian’s familiar jacket, held a banner up with Sandy.

WELCOME BACK, XIAOJIAO!

There was no sign of Red.

“Xiaojiao!” The monkey barrelled forward the moment she stepped out of the limo, wrapping his arms around her. She smiled, holding him close, pushing back the hurt in her heart. “I missed you!”

“I missed you too! And, woah!” Xiaojiao pulled away and looked him up and down, eyes wide. Xiaotian looked so adorable! She wanted to pet him and squish his cheeks! “Wow, when did this happen?”

He grinned and struck a pose. Xiaojiao immediately pulled out her phone and snapped pictures. According to his request, she got his good side. Of course, it wasn’t like he had a bad side. “Oh, a few weeks ago! I tried calling you-”

“Yeah, I was just going through the voicemails,” Xiaojiao admitted, her stomach suddenly sinking at the reminder. “I must’ve not gotten that yet.”

“Really?” An arm wrapped around Xiaotian’s shoulders and pulled him close. Red was there, horns and tail out. Said tail was wrapped around his boyfriend’s leg as he stared at her. He looked like he was forcing anger back, hair letting out sparks. “I guess you should really keep up to date on your messages.” Xiaojiao blinked, wondering why he looked so mad-

Shit.

He thought she had known.

Xiaojiao stepped forward, opening her mouth. She had to clear this up, no matter if Xiaotian learned of her mistake. “Red, I-”

“C’mon, Noodle Boy,” Red turned away from her, hand sliding down to the small of Xiaotian’s back. “I promised you lunch, didn’t I? The Dragon Girl should catch up with the pig and the scholar.”

“Okay?” Xiaotian sounded confused. “I guess, but-”

Before he could finish or Xiaojiao could say anything else, they disappeared into fire.

Leaving her there, a mouth full of explanations and a sinking heart.

#my writing #fic #LMK #Monkie Kid #Lego Monkie Kid #Long Xiaojiao #Red Son #Qi Xiaotian #Spicynoodleshipping #Spicynoodles

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aquamarinescarlet · 3 years

Text

Don’t give up just yet

Pairing: Wanda Maximoff x Reader

Word count: ~3.6k

Warnings: two curse word (I think), brief mentions of sex and cheating, angst (bare in mind these warnings don’t apply the way you think they do, you’ll have to read to understand)

Summary: The classic soulmate AU, sentences written on each other’s wrists, but with a twist.

Author’s note: This was basically an excuse for me to reinvent the soulmate AU with the wrist tattoos thing. It’s sorta angsty, but I just thought the ending was too funny. Just experimenting here, tell me what you think.

PSA: Dividers are the count down till the day: black is reader focused, red is wanda focused, gold/yellow is also reader focused, but I thought it deserved a little spark.

“You should call her, y’know.”

“Why would I do that? She made her point very clear.”

“It’s her wedding day, Y/N,” Mia reasoned, “and this fight was months ago, you have to get over it.”

You rolled your eyes at her insistence. This discussion has been happening every day for the past two weeks.

“I didn’t do anything wrong, why am I the one who should get over it?” You emphasized.

“He is her soulmate, and she is your sister, the least you could do is pretend.”

“Ugh,” you let out a guttural scream, “I can’t do this anymore Mia, I stand by what I said. That man is an asshole and this soulmate thing is stupid. I don’t trust him, no matter what the words on both their wrists say, and I’m not gonna watch her go down with this and not do anything about it.”

Mia didn’t respond, she knew she’d reached your last nerve. You watched as the woman left your office, sending a last sympathetic glance your way before walking into the hall.

Mia was right in some points, and you knew that. She was right about it being your sister’s wedding day and that you should be there to support her. She was wrong about you needing to be the one to apologize though. The way people manipulated their lives to fit this whole twisted Soulmate Theory made your blood boil.

The Soulmate Theory was quite simple: everyone was born with a sentence written on their wrists, popular belief is that those are the first words your soulmate will say to you. It was cute, and it worked most of the time, not for your sister though. Or at least you thought so.

Oli's soulmate was Isaac. They had met three years ago and eventually started dating. Oli was a firm believer of the Soulmate Theory and had never dated anyone before, so it was all new and exciting.

You started noticing the patterns roughly one year after they started dating. He was controlling her, discreetly, barely noticeable, but it was there.

First with clothes, Oli had made it a habit to always ask for his opinions on her clothing, and he would tell her he hated something, regardless of her telling him over and over again she had liked it. You made little comments here and there about his actions, mostly jokes but with some truth behind, she didn’t notice.

Second was friends, Isaac would always want to meet Oli’s friends, and if she went out with one he didn’t know he would make her feel guilty. You started giving more serious warnings, pointing out what he was doing more clearly, she didn’t care and called you crazy.

Third was her feelings, he had his mind set on what her role should be in his life. He praised Oli endlessly when she cooked or cleaned. Other than that, he didn’t care, didn’t pay attention to her stories, didn’t appreciate her paintings and drawings…

It got to the point where she wouldn’t want to paint anymore, when she was telling a story it would be without her usual excitement. Her smile no longer reached her eyes, she was constantly tired.

You confronted her about it, several times, but it was of no use. You’d point out the facts and she’d retort with ‘he is my soulmate, the universe bound us together, he wouldn’t do this to me!’

Three months ago was the last time you two talked. She told you he asked her hand. She knew you would be against it, she tried to ease you into the idea of her being with Isaac for the rest of her life. You weren’t having any of it.

After hours of screaming, arguing and loads of tears, she told you not to come to the wedding, and you said you wouldn’t.

It’s now four days from the date and you’re not going as long as he’s the one she’s marrying.

You stared at the words on your own wrist. ‘It’s you’. That sentence haunted you for years. What a stupid set of words for your soulmate to say.

As a kid you adored the Soulmate Theory, you paid meticulous attention to the first words you’d exchange with anyone, you made new friends nearly every day in hopes of hearing those words, but they never came.

Until they came. At first it was exhilarating, but the ones you said didn’t match the ones on the person’s wrist. You were extremely disappointed. And then you heard them again, and again, and again… It became almost routine. Every single person you met would say ‘it’s you’ or some variation of it.

You being who you are certainly didn’t help. During college you had started a tech company and now it had grown to be one of the biggest and most important in the field. The new inventions did win you several prizes and a lot of money. You were also stupid famous, being the young brilliant CEO and all.

Ever since, you gave up on looking for your soulmate. It seemed counter productive to get yourself all worked up just for it not to happen every single day. You made your peace with it, although a small part of you just wanted to meet said person.

The situation with Isaac and Oli helped. Seeing that it could end up hurting you made it easier to not fixate on finding your soulmate. Nonetheless, the desire was there; hidden, pushed to the back of your mind, but still there.

You just wished your sister could see it too, that the Soulmate Theory is not the solution to all her problems.

“Relax Steve, it’s all taken care of.”

“What about the flowers? Did you book the buffet? Did you check with the band? And the decorations? I saw some people didn’t RSVP yet, should I redo the seating charts?” Steve rambled on as Wanda just laughed.

“The flower problem is solved, the buffet confirmed, so did the band, the wedding planner is working on the decorations and redoing the whole seating chart seems… unnecessary, they still have three days to confirm their presence.” She reassured the man who was more stressed than her about the whole situation.

“Okay, sorry, I just want to make sure everything is perfect.” He huffed, taking a seat on the couch.

“It’s going to be perfect, don’t worry.” She couldn’t help the weirdness that surged upon uttering those words.

“How are you so calm?” Wanda just shrugged, not really sure how to answer.

Steve took a deep breath and gazed at the red head, offering her a smile.

“I’m going to sleep, all this wedding stuff has been stressing me all day.”

“Okay,” Steve made his way to his bedroom but she called him before he reached the hallway, “thanks for the help Rogers.”

“No worries.” He shot a last smile before disappearing.

Wanda found herself alone in the living room, the silence only making her thoughts scream louder.

She would be married in three days. It seemed unbelievable. After losing her parents, being experimented on at Hydra, fighting along Ultron, losing her brother and becoming an Avenger, she never thought she would have time to fall in love.

Yet, here she is. Although the feeling wasn’t quite what she thought it would be. It wasn’t exciting, or nerve racking. She felt no different than any other day of her life. Steve seemed like the one who was getting married, not her.

Vision is sweet and caring, she feels so happy around him. Then what is causing all these doubts to haunt her?

She knows what it is, she just doesn’t want to admit it.

Those words. Those stupid words painted forever on her wrist. ‘Don’t do this’. Ever since joining the Avengers she started using several bracelets to hide them, but they still burned on her skin every single day.

She’d heard of the Soulmate Theory at a very young age. Her parents had explained how those were the first words she’d hear from the love of her life. She would spend hours daydreaming all sorts of scenarios in which someone would say those words to her and they’d fall in love.

After her parent’s death, that stopped being her priority. At the Hydra base she’d only see her brother and a couple dozen different Hydra soldiers, too old and mean for a soulmate.

Gaining powers was a game changer. She was older then. Stronger. They finally allowed her and Pietro to leave the base and create chaos in Hydra’s name. “Do good” in Hydra’s name. She believed she was doing the right thing. She truly did.

Hearing her first ‘Don’t do this’ made her question everything. It came from a little kid nonetheless. A scared little kid. It must’ve been a mistake, she thought at the time. But that mistake happened, again, and again, and again…

When she joined the Avengers her eyes were opened to all the pain and terror she had caused. All the people she hurt. Then it dawned on her, what if one of those ‘Don’t do this’ came from her soulmate? What if she had hurt them, or worse, killed them?

The idea terrified her. So she hid those words on her wrist. A reminder of the evil she’s done and the love she’ll never have. She promised herself to never look for her soulmate, she already caused them enough pain, they didn’t deserve to get tangled in the mess that was her life.

And then Vision was created. Him and Wanda got along greatly. He made her happy. They fell in love, or at least that’s what Wanda told herself, that she fell in love with him. It was possible, there’s no rule on the Soulmate Theory that says you can only fall in love with your soulmate. Plus, Vision is not human, so he doesn’t have words written on his wrist, he doesn’t have a predestined soulmate, technically he doesn’t even have an actual soul for this sort of thing. They could be each other’s soulmate. A loophole on this stupid theory.

Why didn’t it feel like that though? Why was she questioning it so much? And why now? Three days before her wedding?

She took off the bracelets and stared at the ink, brushing her fingers lightly over it. She loved Vision, she affirmed to herself. She wants to marry him. This is what she wants. And she believes in these words, for a while. Long enough for her to fall asleep, turning off her brain from overthinking the situation too much.

Work has had you occupied all week. With back to back meetings and loads of paperwork to fill out, you’ve barely had time to think of anything else.

But now it seems like everything is done and you have more free time than you’d like.

You left the office early, not having much to do there anymore, and, instead of spending all afternoon home alone, you decided to go out for some coffee.

You were sitting on your usual table in the small coffee shop close to your place. It was calm, quiet and homely, a nice contrast between the places you frequent. The warm cup on your hands did nothing to distract you though.

The book you’d brought was long forgotten on the table as you glanced at your phone every few seconds. It’s two days till the wedding and, even though you tried not to think about it, you hoped your sister would text you saying she broke it off. It was unlikely, but wishing she could get some sense knocked into her wouldn’t kill.

You were so focused on your thoughts that you didn’t notice a woman glancing at you until you caught her trying to call your attention.

“It’s you!” She said, astonished, pointing to the cover of a magazine showing a picture of you.

Recognizing that issue as being a rather old one, you just nodded and offered the woman a friendly smile. She took that as an opportunity to approach you.

“Hi. Sorry,” she sounded excited and also nervous for bothering you, “I just wanted to say what an inspiration you are to women all around, to me especially. I’ve been opening my own business and seeing what you do has been such an encouragement to me. So, thank you!”

You were surprised by how nice she was. You’d expected her to ask you to invest in her business or something, like everyone who approaches you does, but she didn’t and it was a nice change of pace for once.

“What kind of business are you opening?” You asked. Listen to her talk would be a good distraction, plus, you could use the company.

“Oh, no, that’s ok,” she said, “I don’t want to bother you any further.”

“Please,” you urged, “I have the rest of my day off and I could use someone to talk to. Unless you’re busy, then I wouldn’t want to be a burden to you.” You laughed to ease the woman’s nerves.

“Sure?” You nodded and gestured to the empty seat across from you.

She accepted it and you spent at least an hour talking before she had to leave. It was a pleasant conversation, she praised your work but didn’t refrain from giving some interesting criticism on your business. The topic of an investment or a partnership never even came up.

It got your sister out of your mind for a while, although it didn’t last long.

Laying on your bed, your eyes fought to stay open, your mind swirling with all possible scenarios regarding Oli. She would be miserable if she went through with this, and you couldn’t do anything about it.

You love your sister, you care so much about her, but she refuses to listen to your warnings. You could swallow your pride and go to the wedding. You could try and support her. But that would just make an accomplice to her stupidity and you’re not going to just stand there and pretend that that’s ok.

You thought about texting her, way too many times. But your relationship is already rocky as it is, the least you could do is hope she gets some clarity on her own.

One day till the wedding. She’s 24 hours away from the happiest day of her life. Why is it, then, that Wanda doesn’t feel as happy as she should be.

She didn’t have to fake a smile, she was happy, but that smile didn’t quite reach her eyes.

None of the others seemed to notice it. They just thought it was the nervousness of having everything set so the day could run smoothly. Vision even brought up the possibility of her having cold feet about it, but she denied it thoroughly, assuring him she wanted this.

And she does. She wants to get married, have kids and build up a family of her own. She wants it all.

It still seemed weird though. Like something was off.

“Steve just called,” Nat interrupted her thoughts, walking back into the room, “everything is set, prepped and organized for tomorrow.”

“Let’s try on the dress then.” Carol urged the girl to put on the piece of clothing for the millionth time.

It did her justice. Slim at the top and flowy at the bottom, accentuating all her curves perfectly. It wasn’t big and puffy but light and delicate. She smiled at her own reflection as the other women crammed around her to take a look.

“You look beautiful.” Pepper said in awe.

“She does, doesn’t she.” Laura agreed, even though she’s the one that helped her choose it.

Wanda didn’t say anything, just smiling and appreciating her own image, excitement growing on her chest from wearing it in front of everyone the next day.

The girls spent hours planning how they would do her hair and makeup. There were so many ideas, disagreements and arguments that Wanda was completely drained by the end of the day. She was happy though, to see her friends being there for her, eager to help and make sure everything was perfect.

It was nice to have people around since she lost so much throughout the years.

After the women were gone and she found herself alone, Wanda’s thoughts from the beginning of the day came back, hitting her like a train.

Was she really more excited about wearing a dress than about getting married? Was this a sign of her actually getting cold feet?

She shrugged them away, affirming to herself these are just stupid uncertanties people always get before their wedding day. At least that’s what happens in movies, so nothing to worry about... right?

Thankfully your work slump had subsided as now a gigantic pile of papers sat on your table. Some contracts had to be restructured and a set of stores had to be chosen to distribute your newest technology.

You thrived in that scenario, with countless reports and 2D drawings of the prototypes scattered about the room. Your mind was going a thousand miles a minute, seemingly unaware of the events that would take place later that day.

That peace, however, was short lived. Your brain short circuited for a second when you checked what had caused your phone to buzz.

Two voicemails.

From none other than Isaac.

It was right then that it dawned on you: Oli was marrying that asshole today. In only a couple of hours actually.

Before listening to the messages you started to record your phone screen, maybe he would try to threaten you or something and you could use that to convince Oli to break things off with him. It wouldn’t kill to be precautious.

The first one was sweet, although it almost made you gag, it was sent with good intentions. Isaac was asking you to go easy on Oli, regardless of your feelings towards him, you should be supportive of her and her decisions. Too pretentious for your liking, but sent with good intentions nonetheless.

The second one started awfully weird. Some muffled sounds, things you couldn’t quite make out. Until you heard a loud moan, your eyes going wide as you pushed your phone away from your face. Isn’t it technically ‘bad luck’ to see the bride on the wedding day? You didn’t have time to dwell on those thoughts as the voice on the phone started to moan each other’s names. The woman didn’t sound anything like Oli, because it wasn’t Oli. Isaac was cheating on your sister? And on their wedding day!?

Oh you weren’t about to just let that go. You stopped the recording, thanking your intuition, and quickly ringed Oli.

It rang once… twice… three times… and then voicemail. You tried at least four more times until you figured she just didn’t want to talk to you.

“Marie can you come in here please?” You called your secretary.

A few seconds later she popped her head inside your office.

“How can I help?”

“Can I use your phone!?” You sounded more exasperated than you wished.

“Are you sure it’s a good idea to call your sister today?” Damn, that woman knows you too well. You sighed loudly.

“Please… I just…” You trailed off, sounding desperate this time around.

Thankfully Marie gave in and lent you her phone. You typed Oli’s number and rang it, several times, she didn’t pick up once. You were starting to get truly desperate now.

“Do you have the address?” You handed Marie her phone back.

“Here.” She handed you a piece of paper from her pocket.

It was on the other side of the city, at least a one hour drive. You quickly grabbed your coat, purse and phone, rushing out of the office, only being stopped by a hand wrapping around your wrist.

“Don’t do anything stupid.” You gave her a reassuring smile and a quick nod before making your way to your car. Marie has been working with you since the beginning, she always knew when you were up to nothing good. She also knew that when you set your mind to something, there was no stopping you.

The drive was excruciating. You kept making stupid mistakes and taking wrong turns. Everything seemed to work against you, being it: accidents, red lights, slow drivers, pedestrians. Even the birds chirping around were pissing you off.

You finally reached the venue and stopped the car messily in the front entrance. You quickly ran up the stairs, and almost tripped and fell when you heard the officiant was already performing the ceremony.

You reached the doors and yanked them open, hopefully interrupting the wedding before it was too late.

“Don’t do this!” You screamed at the top of your lungs, nearly breathless.

The guests all turned towards you, surprised. So did the couple on the podium.

Except those people weren’t Oli and Isaac. You recognized them, Vision and Scarlet Witch, or at least that’s the names they went for on television. You’ve seen them before, doing business with Stark had its perks, but had never been introduced.

You could’ve felt bad, but your stomach was a turmoil of faith and nausea. You were either really early or really late to stop Oli.

“Sorry,” you said, trying to catch your breath, “wrong wedding, carry on.” You turned around to leave, but not before noticing the bride glancing at her own wrist.

You didn’t get the chance to take a single step out the door before her voice filled the silence that had settled.

“It’s you.” You stopped dead on your tracks. Your wrist burning slightly, not the kind of pain to cause discomfort, just enough to be noticeable.

Those words.

Her looking at her wrist.

Your’s burning now.

You turned back around, earning all kinds of confused glances from the guests. Your eyes fell on the woman, a smirk plastered on your lips.

“Seems like this isn’t the wrong wedding after all.”

#wanda maximoff x reader #wanda maximoff #wanda x reader #mcu #marvel #reader insert #wanda maximoff imagine #soulmate au

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reidandweep · 3 years

Text

Something Bigger Than Us

Spencer Reid x Reader (female)

A/N- Hi guys, I am back after an eventful few months. Had to deal with some personal stuff, but I am back now and writing more! So, to celebrate, heres some fluff with our favourite genius!!

Word Count- 4026 words

Warnings- Fluff, mention of bodily liquids in the case, mentions of murder.

The beauty of love is that, you can fall into it with the most unexpected person at the most unexpected time. - Ritu Ghatourey.

Sitting in the subway cart, Spencer indulged in the book in his hands. It had been a gift from Penelope as she had always told him he had to read more fictional works. So, there Spencer was, on his day off, travelling to the science museum and reading ‘The Maze Runner’. He was taking more time than he needed; slowing down his reading speed to prolong the story to fit his entire journey. He was so engrossed that he nearly didn’t notice the subway cart come to a stop and the doors open, a woman walking inside. What made Spencer glance up from the novel in his hands was the slight change of weight near his feet. Looking away from his novel, he didn’t expect to see said woman sitting on the subway cart floor. Spencer glanced around to see multiple seats available, yet there this person was. Sat on the ground.

“Did you want to sit here?”

Spencer had found many women pretty in his life. He had found a few to be gorgeous. But this woman, she was breath taking. As she lifted her gaze to stare into his, Spencer felt a warmth he never felt. A moment. A spark.

The woman smiled up at Spencer.

“No, it’s okay. I quite like sitting on the floor. I can feel the wheels moving more.”

Spencer looked at the woman puzzled.

She couldn’t help but let her smile grow.

“Sit down and feel.”

Spencer’s brain went blank at the woman’s request. He knew how much bacteria there was on the floor and could not imagine doing such a thing as sitting on it.

“On average, more than 9 million people ride the subway every day. That’s 18 million feet on that floor. They could have stepped in anything. The number of bacteria is unimaginable.”

The woman shrugged.

“So, that’s 18 million feet and my butt. At least I can say I enjoyed my subway ride more because I felt the wheels on the tracks.”

The warmth in Spencer’s chest spread the more he looked at her. Before he even realised, Spencer found himself sliding from his seat and onto the subway floor next to her. She was right. You could feel the wheels thumping against the tracks.

“It’s like a heartbeat.”

The woman looked at the floor of the carriage with a smile.

“People ride the subway every day and never think about how amazing it is that this thing was created. That we can hop on something that could take us wherever we desired to in our city. They treat it like it's nothing. But it moves like we do, and it stops like we do.”

The woman looked up at Spencer.

“It has a heartbeat. Just like you and I.”

In his whole life, Spencer had never heard someone describe anything in such a way that made it feel human; that made him feel so human.

“So, where are we going?”

“We?”

The woman smiled and stood from the ground, holding her hand out for Spencer to take. He did so without a thought. It was like being around her made him forget everything.

“Yes, we? I had no plans but then I met you and it seems you had plans so now I do to. So, where are we going mister…?”

Spencer straightened his satchel, his hands gripping the straps. The warmth that had spread from his chest now burnt in the hand he had held hers with for those few seconds.

“My names Spencer. Spencer Reid. I’m actually a doctor but not a medical one. I have three PHD’s and three bachelor’s Degrees, but none of them are remotely medical. I could go into that field if I wanted to but…”

Spencer stopped himself as he realised, he was rambling.

The woman leaned against the pole to her side and looked at Spencer in earnest.

“You were saying you could go into the medical field if you wanted to but…”

She was actually listening to his rambling and she even seemed to be interested.

Spencer’s hands gripped his satchel tighter.

“But I have enough to focus on with work already.”

The woman nodded her head in understanding.

“Well, Dr Spencer Reid, my name is Y/F/N. Y/F/N Y/L/N. My title is just regular old miss. Unfortunately, I have no PHDs, but I do have a bachelor’s degree in Film Studies which I’m presuming is nowhere near exciting as what you have yours in. I could never have gone into the medical field because I hated biology and preferred chemistry at school as I liked drawing the chemical equations more than learning about photosynthesis. The only part I liked about biology was learning about thalidomide, which is really grim, but it was fascinating.”

Whilst she spoke, Spencer couldn’t help but notice the movement of her hands. Her nails on her right hand were painted a different colour to the ones on her left. Just like how he wore different socks on each foot. He liked that they unknowingly matched.

“Now we are no longer strangers, I think you need to tell me where we are going?”

Spencer looked towards the doors and noticed that they were actually soon to arrive to his stop.

“I was going to visit the museum. The next stop is my one.”

Y/N looked at the door and nodded.

“Cool. So, can I join?”

Even though she had already said she was joining him twice, Spencer did not think she actually meant it. He stuttered through his words as his thoughts blazed around his head.

Y/N could see his mind going into overdrive.

“Hey.”

Spencer looked down at the shorter woman in front of him. He wondered why she seemed so worried.

“I’m sorry if I made you uncomfortable. I tend to come off as quite strong but something about you tells me I need to know more. I want to know more. Spend more time with you. I’d love to see the things Dr Spencer Reid, who has three PHDs and was reading one of my favourite books when I hopped on the train, had planned to see today. I will only join you if it is something you want.”

Spencer felt the subway cart come to a stop and saw the doors in his peripheral open.

He was tired of living life through the view of work before anything else. The few moments of happiness he had was taken away by not allowing himself to be spontaneous. To be with them in person. So, for the second time that day, Spencer grabbed a hold of Y/N’s hand, ignoring the facts and statistics of germs and bacteria running through his mind.

Pulling her towards the doors, the pair stepped off the subway cart and onto the platform.

People walked around the pair as they stood facing each other, staring at one another with their hands entwined.

Spencer swallowed the lump in his throat.

“I would like if you would join me to the museum. I would like to spend more time with you too.”

Y/N smiled at Spencer’s words. With the hand still not in his grasp, Y/N lifted her arm towards the subway exist.

“Well, lead the way Dr Spencer Reid.”

Spencer did just that.

In silence the pair walked the short distance from the subway station to the museum. Their hands interlocked at their sides as Y/N looked around at the buildings by them. Spencer couldn’t help but glance towards the woman. He couldn’t understand why he felt so different with her. The warmth in his chest was still there, and it felt as though it was growing and spreading with every breath he took. His hand in her own was something he wished to never lose. It was like being enveloped in the softest blanket known to man. This stranger who sat by his feet on the subway has made him feel more comfortable and step out of his comfort zone more than any of his friends or family ever have. But why?

Coming to the doors of the museum, Spencer opened the door for Y/N to enter before him; letting go of her hand to do so. He felt empty without her hand in his. He couldn’t believe how empty his palm now felt.

“I’ve never been to this museum before.”

Y/N couldn’t help but laugh at the shocked look on Spencer’s face. As though what she said was the most shocking thing he had ever heard.

Before she could even make a joke about his expression, Spencer suddenly turned down a corridor.

“Woah! Slow down Doc!”

Spencer slowed down his pace.

“I’m sorry. It’s just this is my favourite place and I want to show you everything it has to offer.”

Y/N smiled at Spencer’s bashful behaviour. She couldn’t help her own cheeks blushing at the thought that this kind man wanted to show her around his favourite place. To think she had only met him a mere hour before.

Giving Spencer’s a comforting smile, Y/N bumped her shoulder with his own.

“I have a feeling that I am going to learn a lot with you as my tour guide.”

Spencer led the way as they walked through the corridors, reciting information about each exhibit they come across, stuttering when he felt Y/N’s hands brush his own as they walked side by side.

Just as Spencer was about the point Y/N to the next exhibit, he felt her hands slowly clasp around his own. Her smooth fingers fitting perfectly into the gaps between his rough appendages.

“Is this okay?”

Spencer smiled in delight, squeezing her hand in reassurance as he pulled Y/N in the direction they had been heading.

Walking hand in hand down the hall, Spencer silently led Y/N to one of his favourite parts of the museum. As they entered the room, Y/N’s eyes could not miss the large rock exhibited in the middle of the room, people sporadically standing around the object.

“What is that?”

Spencer’s chest became warm at the look of wonder on Y/N’s face as they walked closer to the exhibit.

“That is the Willamette Meteorite. It was found in Oregon and is the largest ever meteorite found in the United States and the sixth largest in the world. The smooth surface melted during its blazing entry into the atmosphere, while the pits formed on the Earth's surface. Iron meteorites form when large enough asteroids have had molten interiors catastrophically collide with other asteroids. These huge collisions blast out material from the molten iron core of the asteroid on orbits that reach Earth after millions of years.”

Y/N continued her wonderous gaze as they let go of Spencer’s hand, walking around the meteorite, taking in every crevice and crater. Spencer could usually spend hours staring at the meteor, but right now he could not tear his haze away from Y/N as she took her time looking at the artefact.

Turning to look at Spencer, Y/N wanted to find out more.

“How was it made? Like is it a piece of something much bigger?”

Spencer looked at the meteorite that stood much taller than all of them.

“The internal structure, made of metallic iron, suggests that billions of years ago, an early planet orbiting the Sun was shattered, perhaps in a collision with another protoplanet. The fragment was probably part of the planet’s iron-nickel core. While planets, including Earth gradually formed and matured, this fragment orbited the Sun. It was hit at least twice by other planetary fragments, knocking it into a collision course with Earth. Over many centuries, rainwater interacting with its iron sulphide deposits produced sulfuric acid, which slowly etched and carved large cavities.”

Spencer waited for a response, but as the seconds passed in silence. Had he freaked her out? Had he gone too far? Spencer moved his gaze from the meteor to Y/N, to see her staring at the meteorite in awe.

“Woah.”

Spencer laughed at her exclamation. His head dipping down to try and cover his reddening cheeks.

“Woah indeed.”

Y/N couldn’t help the blush now invading her cheeks. Walking back towards Spencer, Y/N nudged the genius’s shoulder with her own, gaining his attention. Spencer turned his head to look back at Y/N.

“It’s crazy how we get to look at something that was once part of something much bigger. Something that could have housed life and all sorts of wonderous things and yet, here sits part of its core, on our planet, in one of our museums. Now a part of something much bigger again.”

Spencer and Y/N looked at each other in silence. Taking in the moment and her words. Both of them acknowledging that they too were part of something much bigger, much more meaningful than they had every thought about.

A clicking sound broke the moment.

Turning around, Spencer and Y/N both saw an older gentleman pointing a polaroid camera towards the pair.

Realising that the pair had turned around the gentleman walked up towards them and handed over the picture.

“It still has to develop.”

Y/N looked down at the picture in Spencer’s hand as it slowly developed.

“Can you take another one? Just so we can have one each.”

The man nodded at Y/N question, stepping back to where he stood before.

Y/N moved her hand to clasp Spencer’s once more, tilting her head to lay on his shoulder, a smile blossomed on her face as she looked towards the camera.

Spencer’s own gaze was fixed on her. His eyes taking in the slope of her nose and the feel of her hair tickling his neck. Usually, if he was ever this close to anyone, let alone a woman, he would start to sweat and panic. And yet, all Spencer could feel was what he could only describe as serene. Spencer had never felt serene until now.

Being shaken out of his stare by the click of the man’s camera once more, Spencer looked to see the man handing Y/N the picture as she rummaged through her bag.

“No need to pay me.”

Y/N shook her head.

“I insist.”

The man moved forward, placing his hand on Y/N’s shoulder.

“I gave you the picture because sometimes it is nice to look back where it all began.”

The old man looked Spencer in the eye and gave him a wink, causing Spencer to blush.

“Both of you, enjoy your day, and may I suggest if you get hungry, try Giovani’s Café down the street.”

Spencer cocked his head.

“Is it good?”

The man laughed as he walked backwards, nodded his head.

“I should know, I am Giovanni after all!”

Laughter rumbled from the pair as they watched the older gentlemen walk out the door, his polaroid camera in hand. As their laughter died, Y/N looked down at the now developed picture in her hand. Spencer in turn looked at his own.

The picture was beautiful. With the light from outside cascading through the windows, creating almost a halo of light around the pair, the meteorite had never looked bigger than when Spencer saw the back of his and Y/N’s figures standing in front of it. But what Spencer couldn’t take his eyes away from was the fact that in the picture, Y/N was not looking at the meteorite. She was looking at him. If he looked hard enough, he could see a smile on her face. So soft and so beautiful.

The comforting silence of the pair looking at their polaroids was suddenly shattered when Spencer’s ringtone filled the air. Spencer couldn’t help but let his shoulders drop in disappointment.

“I’m so sorry, I just have to take this.”

Y/N smiled in acknowledgment,

“Go ahead, I’m just going to take a look over here.”

Spencer nodded as he watched her walk across the hall, examining the pictures and their information plaques as he answered his phone.

“Hello.”

“We got a case Pretty Boy. Wheels up in 50 minutes.”

Spencer rubbed his head at Morgan’s voice.

“Okay.”

Morgan could hear the disappointment in Spencer’s tone.

“Are we interrupting something?”

Spencer kept his eyes on Y/N as he took a second to answer.

“Yeah. But I’ll be there in 30 minutes.”

Morgan chuckled.

“Okay, Genius, see you later.”

Spencer hung up his phone. Walking towards where Y/N still stood, he tapped the woman on her shoulder.

As she turned, Y/N took in Spencer’s solemn look.

“Is everything okay?”

Spencer shook his head.

“Work called. I have to leave. I’m sorry.”

Y/N smiled in understanding.

“Work is work, whatever it may be. No need to be sorry. I had an amazing day that I didn’t think I would have.”

Spencer stared Y/N in her eyes, a little smile adorning his face.

“I did too. I have to go. But can we meet again?”

Y/N nodded her head, her own smile lighting her face.

“Yeah. I would like that.

Spencer grinned as he began to turn around, walking towards the corridors exit, waving as he left. He began to walk down the stairs when he suddenly heard his name.

“Spencer, wait!”

Spencer turned around to see Y/N running down the stairs towards him, polaroid in hand.

Stopping in front of him, as Y/N stood on the steps above Spencer, she was nearly as tall as the boy wonder.

“You dropped this.”

“Thank you.”

As Spencer went to reach for the picture, Y/N pulled it out of his reach.

He watched with bated breath as she carefully put the picture in the breast pocket of his jacket, tapping his jacket where the picture now safely sat.

“Now go before your boss gets angry at you for being late.”

Laughing at her truthful words, Spencer once again waved towards the girl, rushing down the steps as he looked at his watch, realising that he was going to be late. But even with that knowledge, as he opened the exit door of the museum, Spencer turned to wave goodbye to Y/N once more. Watching as she waved back, before he allowed the door to close behind him.

Spencer walked to the jet as briskly as he could, breathing heavily from the sprint through the airport, just about getting through easily with his badge.

Trotting up the steps, Spencer leaped into the jet, quickly taking the seat next to Emily, his breath heavy as he took in deep breaths.

The team ceased their conversation, all looking at Spencer in confusion and worry.

“Sorry I’m late, what’s the case?”

Spencer ignored the strange looks and elongated silence.

Hotch quickly broke it.

“We’re heading to Akron, Ohio. We got two murdered couples with the men both being found with used condoms on and Viagra in their systems. In both cases, the husbands were killed with a silenced 9-millimeter, the wife was stabbed multiple times. We’re meeting up with the Akron P.D when we get there. Everything you need is in the file.”

Spencer nodded his head as he grabbed the file from Hotch, opening the papers as the plane took off.

Briskly looking through the file, Spencer began to detail notes in his notebook about possible suspects and details the others may have missed. But as he scribbled, Spencer could feel the stares of Emily, Morgan, and JJ as they all sat by him. Fed up, Spencer lifted his head, flittering his gaze between them all.

“Can I help?”

“Why was you late?”

Spencer looked at Morgan.

“I was at the museum.”

“That’s the truth but why was you late?”

Spencer turned his eyes to Emily, confusion littering his features.

“I was at the museum, I had to get on the subway and get here.”

JJ tilted her head as Spencer looked between the trio.

The weight of their gazes quickly caused him to break.

“I was late because I was at the museum with someone.”

At his statement, everyone on the jet turned towards Spencer. Even Hotch had Spencer’s undivided attention.

Emily twisted to face the genius, a smirk on her face as she crossed her arms.

“Go on Romeo, tell us all about them.”

Spencer knew he could not get out of this. So, he began to begrudgingly tell his team about his day and the person he spent it with.

“Then after the gentleman took our picture, I got the call. I said goodbye and rushed over here.”

The team all looked at Spencer with mixtures of pride and happiness.

“Did you get her number?”

The looks soon turned to disbelief as Spencer bowed his head in shock.

“You had an amazing day with a woman you don’t know, which is something unlike you, and you failed to get her number? Pretty boy, I am very disappointed. I’ve taught you better than that.”

Shaking his head at Morgan’s playful words, Spencer couldn’t help his own disappointment take over. He can’t believe he didn’t ask her for her number. Rossi walked over and patted the man on his shoulder in reassurance.

“At least you got a picture to remember her.”

Spencer slowly nodded, solemnly reaching into his breast pocket to pull the picture out. But, as Spencer looked at the picture, he realised that she had handed him the second picture they had taken.

Spencer looked at the polaroid and couldn’t believe how comfortable he looked with her. Their hands interlaced as Y/N smiled brightly towards the camera. Spencer’s smile was directed towards the woman next time him, warm and content. He had never looked so at peace before. Yet, he still forgot to ask for her number.

As Spencer was about the place the picture back in his pocket, he paused his movement as Hotch spoke up.

“If I was you, I would check the back of that picture Reid.”

Looking at the people in front of him, he could see that they were all now smiling, looking at him expectedly, waiting for the man to look at the back of the picture. Flipping the picture over, Spencer couldn’t help the smile that blossomed over his face. His eyes crinkling from how large it was. On the back of the picture, a message was written.

“Meeting you made me feel part of something much bigger. Something I would love to explore. Give me a call if you want to as well.”

Underneath the message lay Y/N’s phone number.

Spencer lifted his head and looked around at his team. Pointing his thumb over his shoulder, he began to stand.

“I’m just going to…”

Emily pushed him up as the rest of the team laughed.

“Hurry up and call her Spence, no point in waiting!”

Spencer nodded his head in a flurry as JJ shooed him to the back of the jet.

Walking passed the team, Rossi and Derek patted him on the back, as Hotch nodded his head. They were all happy for him.

Walking into the jet’s toilet, Spencer locked the door and pulled out his phone. Flipping the picture in his opposing hand, he quickly dialled the number, clicking the call button before he could change his mind.

Just as he contemplated hanging up, the ringing stopped, and he heard an answer.

“Hello?”

“I want to be a part of something bigger. I want to explore it too.”

“Really?”

Spencer could feel the smile radiating from Y/N over the phone. A breathy laugh leaving his mouth as he realised, he was nodding his head instead of talking.

“Really.”

Spencer was not the type of person to sit in the bathroom on a plane talking to someone on the phone that he only met that morning. Even more so, having met that someone because they sat on the floor of the subway instead of the seats. Yet, here he was, in the bathroom talking to Y/N and getting to know her more. Spencer felt like the Willamette Meteorite. He had been broken and steered down different courses over the years, feeling like he would never be part of anything bigger than the family that was his team. But now, he felt like he was finally going to be a part of something bigger. Something extraordinary.

Never expected to meet you. When I met you I never expected you to become my everything and more than I could have ever dreamed of. - Maria Ana Bulquerin.

A/N- Thank you for the support. If you wish to in anyway, Please donate to the link below.

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father-time-and-baby-new-year · 3 years

Note

Would it be to much to ask for a Eren scenario where both he and the reader are both equally toxic, manipulative and possessive over eachother but both just cannot let the other go to the point where even when they reunite when Eren escapes the survey corps he asks her to tell him if anyone else whether it was the army or the jeagerists, if they had touched her even if it was just to escort her which she just nods and refuses to tell him any names cuz she likes to see him riled up by her having been "corrupted" and seeing how with a single act she can have him on edge and he falls for her even more by her devious and selfish wiles to have him get irritated and angry but only to end up wanting more of her charms.

Just some good dark angtsy feels all around🖤

A/N: just a little drabble. i've never done canon-verse stuff for AOT so this was fun to try. thank you sending this ask. i did deviate from your ending a little bit so im sorry <3

Warning: AoT Season 4 Spoilers, extreme possessive behavior, toxic relationship, anger issues, gaslighting/manipulating

Eren can feel himself getting restless. Hange had been getting on his nerves. He was the literally the only reason they had secured their victory against Marley on multiple fronts. She and the rest of the fucking Survey Corps should be bending over backward in gratitude.

He cracks his knuckles although he had no need to, wanting to focus on a physical sensation. His thoughts eventually circle back to you. He misses you sorely.

In Marley, there was this kind child Falco. Eren could say he felt guilty for manipulating the poor boy. But that's not true. He's shed that part of humanity a long time ago. All's fair in war after all.

The fair-haired boy was worried about his friend, didn't want a certain special someone of his to become titanized.

Is this other candidate a girl?

Eren had asked. Because he could relate to the Marelyan child. There was a girl he was trying to protect too, who he'd raise hell over, who he'd destroy the world for.

The dark-haired boy can feel himself grow restless. There are a million things to do. Coups to start. Militia to gather. A brother to manipulate. A world to ruin.

But first, he needs to see you. It's already been so long. He had barked orders to Floch to make sure you were safe and secure. If any hair off your pretty little head was misplaced-well no one wants to witness the rage of the Founding Titan's holder.

CRASH

The ground shakes. Eren closes his eyes and lets the Warhammer titan's power course through his veins. Foolish to think any prison could ever hold him.

He's walking uphill. The sunset bathes the land in vibrant pinks, oranges, and light violets. There is a crowd of people standing tall and at attention, postures rigid, save for one.

You hurl towards him at the speed of light and twice the fury, wrapping your arms around his neck. If Eren wasn't six feet of hard muscle, he would have been knocked off his feet from the vigor of your crushing embrace.

"Eren!" You cry out.

The attack titan vessel is too shocked to respond. He's been anticipating your presence for the longest but to finally feel you in the flesh and to smell your soft pretty scent was sending him into overdrive. He couldn't believe you were tangible and not some hauntingly beautiful apparition.

He wraps his arms around you, enveloping your body in his warmth, and you rest your head in the crook of his neck. He feels your nimble fingers toying with his hair.

"I like this new look. It suits you." You mummer.

"Like me without a shirt too?" Eren teases.

He forgot how easy it was to be himself around you, to joke and laugh like he wasn't planning a global genocide of epic proportions. No, even that's an understatement. His goal was an omnicide, utter annihilation. Only Paradis will be left after the ashes settle. A Paradis with you.

"What are you thinking about?" You ask, eyes wide with an untouched innocence that Eren doesn't know how you still possess. All of that eager wide-eyed optimism had been snuffed out from all of his friends. From him. But you, you don't change like the seasons or winds. You're you.

And that was going to be his ruin.

After the Yeagerists brief him on what happened with Zackley and Zeke Yeager's possible whereabouts, Eren gives into his overwhelming urges to see you.

He approaches your chambers, trying to conceal his impatience with soft knocks. You don't answer which irritates him, so he knocks louder and louder, the sound of his fist banging against the door sounding like thunderclaps.

Where the fuck are you? Were you with someone right now? He knew you were getting a little too friendly with Floch from the way you guys were talking at dinner. It was so obvious. He's been gone, for what, a few months and you're already whor-

The door opens and exposes a sleepy-looking girl whose rubbing one of her eyes. Admittedly, very adorable.

"Eren" Your voice is saccharine, "Do you need anything?"

He lets himself in, and shuts the door behind him, locking it in place.

"I don't usually lock the door," You pout but there's a playfulness in your expression that Eren would have noticed had he not been consumed by rage.

"What? So you let anyone in?" He asks, nearly snarling out the words. as he stares scandalized at your slip of a nightgown. A pale translucent pink that reached the middle of your thighs. He could even make the outline of your nipples poking through.

"No, silly." You giggle, twirling the hem of your dress, "Floch's security measure." You pretended not to notice how Eren's fist clenches.

"Is that so?" Eren said, words spoken between gritted teeth. As long as Eren was here, there need be no concerns over security measures. But he knew Floch. The ginger worshipped the ground Eren walked on and would never make a move on you if he cared about his limbs staying intact.

You sat down on your bed and Eren couldn't help but watch your skimpy dress ride up your creamy thighs.

He stood over you, his form looming over yours as you sat on your bed, feet swinging above the ground.

"I wanted to ask you something."

You look up with those big childlike eyes, "Okay."

"Did. Anyone. Touch. You?" His voice is low and he punctuates each word slowly.

You blink "What do you mean?” But there’s a coy smile tugging at the corner of your lips.

"Quit playing dumb." He growls, anger evident in the crease between his eyebrows.

You're quiet for a still moment, mouth opening and closing. Eren's anxiety increases more each second and it finally boils over when you softly ask, "What kind of touch?"

Like a chess piece topping over, he shoves you down the bed, pinning your wrists with his strong hands.

Usually, Eren was smarter. Quicker to call you on your tricks. But alas, absence makes the heart fonder. You love making him lose his stoic composure, so lost in his lust and desire for you that all he can see crimson. And if the price for that is to play the fragile maiden, it is what it is.

"Ow." You pitifully whine, lightly shaking your right hand. Eren knew he wasn't holding you too hard so he experimentally thumbs over a certain spot on your right wrist, eliciting another small whimper. He brings your wrist closer to him and finds a purple bruise.

"Who touched you? Was is it any of the yeagerists?" His voice is deadly calm but an ice-cold rage simmers in his eyes. You can feel yourself growing excited, heat pooling in the bottom of your stomach. You’re rubbing your legs together for the friction but Eren assumes it a nervous tic to avoid answering any of his questions.

When you avert your gaze and simply look the side, he delicately cradles your cheek: “Was it the scouts?”

The delicate touch turns harsher when you don't respond, forcing your pretty head to look straight at him. He sees your eyes glistening, and when he looks into your dewy irises, he can see himself.

His voice drops a pitch, "Please tell me."

Your breathing is shallower and you can't help but enjoy this so much.

It's been so long since you've seen him-since you begged him not to go but he went anyway, and having him here right now--the pride and joy of the Eldian empire , the holder of the Founding Titan-unravel in your fingertips, well this was the closest to true power you've ever been.

Eren can feel his patience sleeping, anger seeping into his bones at your silence, and the bruise on your delicate wrist only serves to anger him further. He can't even do what he swore to do and that was to keep you safe.

"Are you not telling me who it is because you're protecting them?"

The words are delivered deadly calm with the tension of a brewing storm behind it. You're nervous, exactly aware of what your beau is capable of, but the excited kind of nervous where butterflies are swarming in your stomach.

Maybe you underestimated his anger because within a second, the telltale red lines start to form under his eyes, lightning bright sparks forming between each breath.

Without thinking, you envelop the back of his head with one arm (the other hand rendered useless bu the force of his hold), trying to bring his head into the softness your breasts.

Understanding your gesture, Eren immediately calms down and lets himself be smothered in your chest like a babe being cradled in his mother's warmth.

"There, there" you coo, words soft and melodious on your tongue.

You can feel wet-spots on your nightie, "Eren...are you-" you begin, not sure when to end.

His voice is tightly controlled as if not let his coiled emotions fuse again, "I'm sorry. I'm sorry. I was about to hurt you." He sounds so broken, and all you can do is stroke his hair.

You press a kiss to his head. You know what the right words to say are. You should be comforting him and assuring him he could never hurt you.

Instead you stay silent, softly exhaling. He can't see the pleased smile on your face.

"Your wrist feeling any better?"

You whip up your head to see Floch whose peering down at you in slight concern. You must have looked confused because he elaborated, "The one you accidentally banged against the doorway. Looked like it hurt."

"Oh." You pause, looking down at the fresh set of finger shaper marks overtaking the fading violet.

You laugh airily, "Yeah it's alright."

#toxic eren #eren yeager x reader #eren yeager x reader fanfiction #eren yeager x toxic reader #manipulative eren #tw manipulation #tw yelling #tw gaslighting #attack on titan fanfiction #eren yeager x y/n

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thithesandofferings · 4 years

Text

“Open Wide”- Ogami Shirou x Reader

TW: 18+ MINORS DNI!! Dom!Shirou/Sub!FemReader, Comeplay, Choking, Voice Kink, Rough Sex, Praise Kink, Degradation, lil bit Size Kink SMUT!!

This is bad .

“Look at you Alan, I thought you said Purebloods didnt get Nirvalys Syndrome? Let me put in into you, before you lose your mind”

Who says stuff like that to the enemy? Ive never seen Shiro this angry before. Especially to say words like that. He barely speaks at all most days. Only when he absolutely has to. This should surprise me or- or stress me out but-

It's so hot.

Link to my Ao3 for this fic= https://archiveofourown.org/works/25414948

This is bad .

“Look at you Alan, I thought you said Purebloods didnt get Nirvalys Syndrome? Let me put it into you, before you lose your mind”

Who says stuff like that to the enemy? Ive never seen Shirou this angry before. Especially to say words such as that. He barely speaks at all most days. Only when he has to. This should surprise me or- or stress me out but-

It's so hot.

“Hey you! Look alive we gotta go!” Michiru yelled, startling me out of a downward spiral.

She was right. I had to get out of there before the place was destroyed to shreds. I could barely think. All I could think about was Shirou splitting that evil bastard's mouth open and putting his power inside it.

I couldnt help but feel jealous.

His wolf had such a presence on its own, how could I not be affected.

I needed to get it together, there were still people that needed to be saved. I shook my head and ran after Michiru towards Shirou. She was chattering excitedly, but I honestly couldnt understand anything she was saying. My eyes were on him.

He must’ve caught something in my gaze because he turned his attention to me.

“You okay?” His voice was gruff from exertion and I had to take a calming breath from the shiver that coursed down my spine. He caught that too.

“I should be asking you that Shirou” I looked away, but with a sideways glance I grumbled that he was, in fact, amazing. He raised his nose a notch, almost an afterthought, and I could see him take a deep breath.

With his penetrating gaze solely on mine, I could feel my pulse jump and my temperature rack up a thousand degrees, I had to look away. He scoffed, almost smugly, and slid attention back to Michiru, who was still talking and running around. Something about having Shirou howl to the town.

We watched as he changed into his silver wolf form again to howl into the microphone. It was a beautiful site to see. Seeing all the animals completely stop what they were doing just to howl with him. Alan had no idea what he had been talking about.

Shirou had the Howl.

Michiro and I could only watch in awe. We were born human turned animals so we didnt have the innate instinct to go along with him. It was such an eye-opening experience, so much so that I felt a little empty at not being able to do it. Shirou looked so regal, the urge to fall on my knees in front of him was an encompassing feeling.

Shaking violently at the thought, I had to blow out a long soul-suffering sigh. Michiru glanced with eyebrows in an “are you okay” motion and I could only just nod.

What is going on with me? Where are my thoughts?

I had hoped that thoughts of Shirou would leave. The attention was of us and finally life was, in all intensive purposes, back to normal. Michiru was able to hang out with her fellow friends, and I- was able to start my work in the office.

Except, I could get nothing done.

Shirou was constantly in my peripheral, working on whatever case was in that week. But when he wasnt there, he was in my mind whispering in his growling voice about the things he could do to me.

I was dying.

There would be times where I would stare at a research book, never turning the page, just staring. It was becoming so hectic that Shirou asked if I needed time off.

“I know its been hard for everyone” Shirou had said. He had been in that leather jacket again. Who wears gloves inside? Why was it so hot?

Its not fair.

“What's not fair?” I looked up from his gloved hands and I could feel my heart rate sky rocket in panic.

I said that out loud.

His gaze is so piercing, it felt like he was staring into my soul. He was leaning on my door frame, completely relaxed. His usual bored expression was placed with something that was almost- teasing? Not that couldnt be right.

But it had been the same expression and mood for weeks now. His casual bumps and grins were so much that Ive had to actively avoid him before I had a heart attack. I wasnt in control of my emotions half the time, so any sort of embarrassment would make me change into my animal form. Even through his cold demeanor, it still seemed like he was laughing at me. I'm sure he could tell that I was flustered, especially when he turned into his wolf form. It always made my blood pressure go up and something slick slide down my thighs.

Which is what was happening now.

Oh no.

I prayed that he wouldnt notice anything amiss, but the world wasnt on my side. He lifted his nose up again and sniffed. It was as if he was trying to find someone miles away, but when he finally looked towards me, his pupils were wide open. Alert.

“You never answered my question.”

There was a hitch in my breath at that tone. That growl that Ive been dreaming about for weeks.

I’m so fucked.

“I-i uhm… sorry what?” I could feel myself blinking rapidly. I couldn’t get my thoughts in order. This was getting ridiculous.

“You humans are very odd,” Shirou rose up from the door, and for a moment I felt relief only to freeze when he closed my door.

With him still inside. We’re alone.

“You even more so.”

He walked slowly towards my desk. Well more like prowled. There was intent in his walk.

I’ve never felt more like prey than right now.

“I’ve seen the way you’ve been looking at me” He’s whispering now. His gloved fingers gently spread out to the edge of my desk and he leans over it.

He’s so close.

“I smell you all day. Its intoxicating.” One hand lifts up and brushes my cheek, I know he can feel the heat.

“You’re the first human that I have ever wanted”

I froze.

Hes been feeling the same? From his expression and the dropping of at least two octaves, it was definitely confirmed.

“I- uh I want you too” My voice was hoarse from emotion. He could hear it just fine it seemed because if his pupils werent blown out before, they sure were now.

Shirou visibly licked his lips and I couldn’t help but follow the motion. He watched me watch him and he grinned, showing his fangs in satisfaction.

“Good because I plan to devour you. Stand up”

I could barely hear the order due to his growling. His ravenous expression was drowning me. I was swimming in heat and desire.

“I wont ask again”

Shirous’ voice snapped me back into reality and with shaky sweaty palms I pushed my chair away and stood. He never told me to move so I just stayed there. He seemed very pleased that I didn’t move.

Not like I could, I was barely able to breathe.

He stalked slowly around my desk until he was behind me, moving the chair completely across the room. It crashed into a plant and I jumped, still not moving an inch.

I could feel his breath across my nape and goosebumps coursed down my skin. I could feel him smelling my hair, breathing in the sweat that I felt that I was pouring out. I tried to move away, embarrassed, but I could feel his grip tighten and him growl at my into my neck.

“Stay still” He whispered. “You can be a good girl and do that for me right?”

I froze at the pet name. I’ve never heard him call me anything other than my last name. I couldn’t believe how it affected at me. I could feel myself become even more drenched.

He could tell.

“Oh? You like that huh?”

I felt his leathered hands slide slowly underneath my shirt and palm my breast. I gasped, my head falling on his shoulder at the groping. This was getting intense fast. I heard something tearing and tried to glance down only to have one of his hands press lightly at my neck. Holding me still.

Shirou shushed me, keeping his hand curled around my throat. Murmuring something about not needing this or that, I felt fabric fall at my feet and my chest became covered in hot leather. I let out a choked moan, only to have his grip tightened.

“You’re gonna have to be a quiet pup, you don't want all your colleagues to know what you're doing right?” He was so mocking, I couldnt help but feel flustered with how demeaning he sounded.

I nodded knowing I couldnt say anything in this position.

“Thats right, good girl, now go on bend over the desk” He slipped his hands away and disorientation readily slid back into my head.

I laid over my desk, paper be damned, and wrapped my hands over the edge to hold on. I heard him growl in confirmation at the act and I preened at the act of pleasing him.

I’ve never felt this way. I was completely ok with him taking the reigns. I didnt have many braincells left, I could barely think. All I could do was just do.

Shirou hands caressed my ass in appreciation, his ungloved hand (when had that happened?) made a purposeful track up to my waistband, hastily taking them off. I was completely soaked and hearing him swear obscenities definitely didnt help.

“I can’t wait to knot you, pup” I felt his weight against me, his bare chest completely covering my whole body. He was so warm, degrees hotter than his normal, his breath hot on my cheek as he licked my face from chin to forehead.

“The real question is,” he says through licks down my spine. “Which form do I want to take you hm?” I shivered violently at the thought of Shirou taking me in my wolf form. Outside of Anima city it is forbidden to have any of those kind of thoughts. But you couldnt help that you constantly thought about Shirou fucking you in his wolf form.

I could hear his deep chuckle at my spine. He knew my answer.

I felt him nose my wetness and my breath hitches. It didnt last for more than 5 seconds and I could hear myself grown out against the desk.

“I would love to taste you, but unfortunately we dont have that kind of time.” There was a zipping noise and I tensed, gushing even more at the thought of what it could be.

“I would need hours to be satisfied from your taste” He is suddenly in my ear. “But I plan to fuck you like you need it.”

I could hear myself mewling at the thought. I’ve been wanting this for weeks. I cant believe someone like Shirou even wants to touch me. Shirou, cool-mannered and distant, wants to fuck me five ways to Sunday is honeslty an eye opening experience.

There is a clicking sound and I gasped. I was so absorbed in my thoughts that I didnt feel the fingers. I could feel myself clenching around and my mewling became even louder. Colleagues be damned.

There was an surprised hum from behind me.

“You’ve been touching yourself?” All I could do was nod embarrassed. He cooed sweetly and added 3 fingers inside of me.

“What were you thinking about? Were you thinking of me? Tell me” I gasped in affirmations. I couldnt take it anymore. I needed inside of me now.

I felt like I was going to die.

“P-please Shiro, I need it.”

“You need what pup?” He grinned savagely and I felt something hard and hot against me.

I wiggled in frustration. Only to have him laugh and hold my hips still. Using his strength to make me stay still.

I was going to have bruises.

“Please fuck me Shirou” I whispered into my shoulder. I knew he could hear me. I felt my chest tighten at the gasp and growl.

“Good girl.” I shivered and gasped as he pushed the head in with a savage force of his hips.

“I wont hold back pup” He laid his furry chest against my back “You might be ruined for any one else.”

“I dont want you to Shirou, give me your all”

A growl was heard and then the most intense feeling of my life was radiating through my whole body.

He thrusted so hard that I could hear the desk screeching. The other colleagues, if they were still there, would definitely hear it. I prayed that they weren’t gonna check to see if I was okay. I wouldnt be able to speak anyways. I’m pretty much holding on dear life on the desk. There was no way I was able to explain anything.

Shirou didn’t seem to care either. The constant growling and heavy breathing that was coming from him was telling.

“Youre so tight, I cant believe all of me fit inside of you” He groaned and all I could do was tighten around him, which made him go even faster. There was a crack from the desk, but I ignored it. All I could concentrate on was the heat and his cock bruising my insides.

“Mine mine mine MINE” He stopped abruptly and pulled out. Only to pick me up effortlessly and turn me around, my back hitting the desk.

He entered me again and with that the world was crashing around me. I’d never come so fast in my life. Watching him in his wolf form growl over me as he pounded me into the afterlife, I wasnt gonna last long.

Seemed like he wasnt either, his thrust got more savage and I got louder. He took his right hand and placed it at my throat again to cut off the noise.

“Be quiet while I shove my knot inside you, I need to concentrate” It made me fall again, shivering while he grinded his knot inside me. He came with a roar, tightening his hands on my throat, cutting off my sound.

“Shhhh, good girl, you did so good” He whispered praises to me while he continued to grind himself inside me. He lifted his hand and I gasped dazed.

He looked up at me and caught my disheveled appearance and grinned.

“Dont move, I’m not done.”

I returned the grin.

“Good Shirou, cause neither am I”

#brand new animal #bna #shirou ogami #shirou ogami x reader #bna headcanons #bna drabble #i just live for this

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magioftheseas · 2 years

Text

Everything

Summary: In which Goro is stressed and overwhelmed about a lot of things, and he ends up lashing out at Akira for saying the wrong thing. He and Akira then have a lot to talk about.

Rating: T

Warnings: Swearing, suicide ideation, and references to past traumatic injuries.

Notes: Yes, I’m posting this fic too. I was possessed and wanted a shuake fic where they fight and then talk things out before making up.

***Alternate Ao3 Link*** Commission? Donate?

Here’s the thing.

He’s definitely done stuff he regrets, putting it mildly. He’s said plenty of things he wishes he could take back, be it to people he actually cared about or just to save face.

If he had been a more honest person, would things be different? Does it even matter to wonder that?

He can’t change anything, and he knows he’d hate being changed in any other situation.

But at the end of it all, he keeps coming back to this one thing.

On the morning of his boyfriend’s twenty-second birthday, he made said boyfriend cry.

What had caused it? Did that question matter?

He was studying for some stupid exam. He repeated the bullet points until his voice broke. Akira had, of course, pulled him aside to take a break. Calm, easygoing, so very dependable Akira.

His first mistake: still envying Akira so much that he wanted to hate him.

“You need to drink some water first, but I’ll brew you some coffee, alright?”

While sipping said water, he had taken in Akira’s flexing shoulders. His irritating hunching posture. He had wondered how such a sloppy individual could be so...everything.

“You should take a break,” Akira was saying. “You’re going to collapse at this rate, Goro.”

He couldn’t help but sigh at that, ever so painfully aware of his shortcomings. “I can’t retain the information no matter what I do, and to make matters worse, I can’t beat the time limit. I’m a disaster with the virtual labs. I’m going to fucking fail, Kurusu.”

“The professors understand that you’re trying,” Akira said. “You’re not going to fail.”

“No... I suppose they wouldn’t fail me.”

And at the time, he thought—didn’t that make it so much worse?

“I want to prove myself, to pass on my own merits, not because—because... Because my professors pity me for getting shot in the fucking head and losing almost a year of my life to a coma.” He ran his fingers through his hair, and the oiliness of the strands made him want to gag. “I want to show that I’m still capable—even if I’m not because I still have these stupid fucking memory problems.”

He’s not sure what he wanted Akira to say. Knowing Akira, he must have given it good thought—but nothing was ever enough for a greedy bastard like himself.

Akira had paused in his work and had stepped away from LeBlanc’s counter to come to Goro’s little booth of misery. As always, Akira wore a gentle smile and his hands were so painstakingly careful as he took Goro’s own and squeezed.

“I believe in you, Goro. I know you can do this.”

Ever the perfect boyfriend, and at that time—Goro couldn’t stand it.

“How?!” he snapped, lacking even the strength to recoil. Pathetic. So pathetic. “Kurusu, you’ve seen what a wreck I am!”

“I’ve also seen how strong you are,” Akira countered. “You’re strong enough to figure something out. You’re the guy who beat death twice, remember?”

He did remember.

He remembered—how happy Akira had been when he found out Goro was alive. How much that must have put his stupid hero complex at ease. His regrets, his everything...

“I didn’t survive because I wanted to. I put myself in those situations thinking I’d die.”

Akira’s desire to do right by his peers no matter how awful or wretched they are was just another reason why Goro was a worse person than him.

“It wouldn’t have happened if I just hadn’t been so foolish, to begin with. How is it strength that I got lucky when I made mistake after mistake?”

Another mistake was getting so caught up in the ways things should’ve been...

“I survived because that palace spat me out while I could barely think. I survived because doctors worked around the damn clock to make sure I wouldn’t waste away. I didn’t ask for any of that.”

...that he didn’t stop to consider just how things were.

“There are still times where I wish they hadn’t fucking bothered! I don’t... I’m not...!”

“Goro,” Akira had pleaded with him, and he still couldn’t take it.

“You believing in me doesn’t make any sense,” he spat. “You being with me doesn’t make sense either. Is it pity? Or just regret? The poor fucking orphan you hadn’t been able to save...”

“That’s not true...”

“W-Who just...would’ve turned out fan-fucking-tastic if not for senseless tragedies. Like his mother dying or his dad being a scumbag—!”

“I’m sorry,” Akira had said. “That came out wrong, I just meant...”

“You’ve seen what a wreck I am, and you’re tormented by thoughts of what could’ve been,” he hissed. “You can’t possibly be impressed by who I am. You’re impressed because I’m still here in spite of who I am. You’re interested in an illusion and a seeming impossibility, not...not...”

A wreck of a person, who only seemed to know how to make shit worse.

“I’m sorry.” Akira still hadn’t let go of his hands. “I’m so sorry. I didn’t mean it like that. Honest. Please, just let me...”

“Stop. Just stop.”

He had been so exhausted.

“I can’t...deal with this right now. I don’t have the time or energy. I should leave.”

He had been so embarrassed.

“Goro, I...”

“Stop.”

At the time, he just needed to escape.

“You’re distracting me. I’m just—I’m gonna take my coffee and go. We’re not continuing this conversation.”

He gathered up his things and tried to keep his hands from shaking so much. Akira poured the coffee into a travel cup without another word—because he really was the perfect boyfriend. He was the perfect boyfriend.

And when his fingers brushed against Goro’s while handing him that cup...

“I’m sorry. Please...take care.”

There had been a glimmer of brimming tears in that dark gaze.

Goro had fled, frantic and distraught.

I’ll deal with it later. I’ll talk to it later. I’ll make things up to him later. I need to focus. I need to focus. I need to focus.

It had only been the afternoon, because of course that day had to start with his big blowup.

Need to focus, need to focus, I...

In a moment of weakness he hadn’t been surprised by, he ended up scrolling through Akira’s social media. The usual stupid pictures of coffee, of coffee art attempts, of the stupid not-cat... Except there were balloons fluttering about.

He checked Takamaki’s account, and sure enough—a picture of a party at LeBlanc. A picture of Akira’s plastered smile as he sits in front of a tacky cake.

Seems our Aki’s got the Birthday Blues!

The party could still be ongoing. The post was only from an hour ago. He could still go—and maybe his birthday present to his boyfriend will be throwing himself at the mercy of his no doubt furious band of former thieves.

His birthday present.

He hadn’t even known.

I can’t study like this. I need to take a break.

He sets the materials aside and clicks out of the tab on his laptop. He’s already clicking open his email and getting ready to compose the most repentant message the world has ever seen.

I’m sorry, he types out. I’m so very, very, very sorry. I was being an asshole.

...he should probably start with something like, Dear Akira.

Dear Akira,

You’ve been so kind and wonderful, and you have such a big heart. I understand if you never want to see me again.

Just talking is...so difficult. Even now, I’m terrified of all the discussions we need to have... And I know that’s ironic, considering our history, but...

I’ll be honest. I’m scared of how you might react. I’m scared out of my wits to think that we won’t work out. I wish I was as strong as you seem to think, but I’m actually so much weaker than you. I always have been.

You’ve handled less than fortunate matters so deftly. You’ve stood tall so impressively. As agonizing as it is to watch, I still found you so admirable. Which is why...

I just can’t bring myself to actually talk to you. It’s easier to just type this stuff out and keep it to myself.

But I really, truly am...sorry. For ruining your birthday.

Unsurprisingly, he still doesn’t feel much better after all that. Shutting his laptop with a hint of finality, Goro went to tie up his hair and fetch his coat. He wasn’t going to return to LeBlanc, but getting a bit of fresh air might help him feel less miserable about himself.

Yeah, right, he thinks as he slips on his shoes. Like it could ever be that easy.

Case in point: his boyfriend flinches from where he had been lingering when Goro opens the door. Akira’s eyes went comically wide and his head quickly ducked. He played with his hair—the way he always did when sheepish. There weren’t any glasses on his face to hide behind. Akira hadn’t worn those in years.

Goro has no idea why he thought of that just now.

Akira’s just always been good about throwing him off-guard, he supposed.

“H-Hey, Goro.” This idiot, who gives him a dorky smile, is the one person Goro had once refused to lose to. “Can we talk?”

Had once refused.

“Sure...thing.”

The roof was a cliché choice, but a practical one. It was empty due to being locked, but Akira picked it open without any questions asked, and it had the best view of the campus.

It didn’t have much else, but Akira was admiring all the same.

“The roof on Ryuji’s dorm was much sadder,” Akira said. “Although for Haru, she like had this garden that she was growing on hers, and it’s really impressive, she...” His cheeks color more beautifully than any flower. “I’m rambling.”

“If you call that said string of words a ramble then I’m a wordsmith,” Goro mumbled, and he wanted to smack himself. “Urgh, no. That’s not what I wanted to say, so—just keep up with your insipid babble so I can stop...”

Akira laughed. It was a nervous little bout, and it was quick. Goro would kill to hear it again if he didn’t kill himself first.

Right.

He probably shouldn’t think like that.

“...what about your party?” he asked before the question could burn the tip of his tongue. “I can’t...imagine waiting in the hallway was all that...invigorating.”

“You found out, huh,” Akira droned, and his smile winced at its corners. “Well, they could tell I wasn’t...super in the mood. No hard feelings. We agreed to celebrate later.”

“Why didn’t you tell me?” It shouldn’t have sounded like an accusation. “If I knew...”

“I didn’t want to distract you from studying,” Akira said, shrugging. “So much for that. I’m sorry you had to find out that way.”

“I should be—!” He buried his face in his hands. Breathed in. Breathed out. “Urgh.”

“I should have told you sooner.” Akira’s voice was quiet yet clear. “And I shouldn’t...have said what I did. I really am sorry, Goro.”

“I’m sorry,” he said, and it sounded so weak. “I shouldn’t have lashed out. I wish I could take it all back.”

“...but?” Akira prodded, because of course he knew better.

“Even if I’m sorry and even if I didn’t mean to unpack on you, those feelings came from somewhere.” He sighed. “It’s important that we...discuss things properly, as a therapist or a not shitty counselor with a god complex would say.”

“You’re still angry at Maruki-sensei?”

“I’m fucking furious that you still call him sensei.”

“Maruki-san,” Akira amended.

“That’s better, but it’s beside the point.” The view didn’t distract him much from his thoughts, nor did it distract him from Akira’s warm shoulder pressed to his. That gentle breeze, the sky above... It was going to be dark soon. “Akira, I’m still not in the mood to talk. I don’t want to shout at you again, so... You can just leave. We can continue this later.”

“Is that really okay?” Akira asked. “Is it really fine to just...leave this hanging over your head when you have exams to worry about? I really don’t mind you shouting at me.”

“...seriously?”

His temper flared up before he realized it.

“How the hell can you not mind?! You can’t seriously tell me that your friends would be okay with you coming up here to get yelled at on your FUCKING BIRTHDAY!”

His voice hit a pitch that hurt the back of his throat, and he coughed. Akira rubbed his back, and he didn’t slap that offending hand away. But he was still beyond irritated.

“...I don’t want to be someone you accommodate to such a degree,” he grumbled. “The last thing I want is you acting like my behavior is either justifiable or just...water under the bridge, so to speak. Even if you feel sorry for me, that doesn’t mean I’m not a shitty person.” Shaking his head, he added, “I’m still petty. Vindictive. Aggravatingly insecure. I still hate feeling like a loser. I still don’t even feel that bad for all the horrible things I’ve done...not just to you, but...to people you care about. You brought up Okumura...”

“She named a succulent after you.”

Goro sputtered.

“W-What?”

“A succulent,” Akira repeated. “It’s like...a cactus. It was really prickly...”

“I know what a succulent is! That’s—also beside the point!”

“So is what you were about to just bring up,” Akira said, and shockingly, his voice was downright frosty. “Goro, do you really think I don’t know what kind of person you are?”

“Y... Maybe?” Goro thought about curling up in a ball and screaming. Maybe just screaming. “Look, I’m sorry. I just...can’t meet your expectations. I can’t stand being on a pedestal anymore.”

“I understand... I do,” Akira said, more forceful once Goro opened his mouth. “I don’t like being on a pedestal either. I really do just think you’re cool and inspiring. Intelligent and ambitious. Sexy and mysterious. Like all the things there is to like...” He trailed off, and that brilliant red of his blush is flaring. “Aah. Yeah. Sorry.”

“I don’t hate being praised.” Quite the understatement. He could get off to Akira complimenting him, as mortifying as that would be to admit. “You can be foolish, but... You have a lot to like, too. Which must be why so many people love you...” Goro sighed again. “But, I can’t help but feel like you’re hung up on my near-death experiences. I’m someone who survived twice, and that’s inspiring. It’s incredible to keep on living... Except that’s not how I feel. I know I should be grateful, but instead, everything hurts. Physically and emotionally. All the time. I don’t feel close to strong, Akira, and it hurts more that you don’t see that.”

“You’re still trying,” Akira argued, firm but a little uncertain. “If anyone’s lucky, it’s me. I was surrounded by a lot of good people, and if I had been in your situation, I don’t think I’d fare nearly as well. You don’t even have to work as hard as you do, but... You do. Shouldn’t I...praise and admire that?”

Goro scowled at him.

“So I should be praised for doing more than just wallowing in my own misery?”

“That’s a cruel way to put it,” Akira mumbled, playing with his hair again. “I just... I wanted to acknowledge your effort... I wanted...to acknowledge you...”

...

...and wasn’t that all he ever wanted?

“Sorry,” Akira said. “I’m just making excuses. I do want to do better with you, and I don’t want you to feel like I don’t see you. I...want to know more about you, actually.”

They couldn’t get any closer without embracing, but Akira still leans into him.

“I’ve noticed a couple of things. Like that you get your coffee completely black when you’re studying. That you still enjoy chess and pool. That your voice gets raspy when you laugh. That you do worry about my friends even as you refuse to get close to them. That...you have a lot that you’re dealing with, and you get overwhelmed.”

“I didn’t even know your birthday, Akira,” he muttered. “I’m a huge hypocrite. I’ve put you on a pedestal, and...”

“You recognize your flaws before I point them out,” Akira finished for him. “I really should be more open with you. I want to be equals with you like before.”

“Before? When I tried to kill you?”

“When we were rivals, Goro.”

His eyes burn, and Goro hurriedly wipes at them.

“...I made you cry. On your birthday. I’m...sorry. I’m glad...that you were born, Akira.”

Akira doesn’t remark on any further tears, but he does gently kiss the top of his head.

“Is it okay?” he can’t help but ask. “Will we really be okay, Akira?”

“I want us to be okay,” Akira says against his hair. “More than anything.”

With a soft exhale, Goro leaned in to press a soft kiss against Akira’s throat. Akira jumped, ever the sensitive one, and Goro couldn’t help but smile against his neck.

“Well, it is your birthday...”

“R-Right...”

He couldn’t help but laugh, even as the sound was raspy and almost painful.

“Let’s get back to my dorm and get some rest. I’m exhausted and could use a bit of sleep.”

“Honestly, me too,” Akira mumbled. “I love the others but... I’m not good with parties. I’d rather just cuddle with you all day.”

“It can’t be all day, I still need to study. Unfortunately.” Goro paused, pursing his lips for a moment before deciding, “But after exams... I’ll be at your cuddly mercy, Akira.”

“If you pass, I’ll reward you with praise and kisses,” Akira immediately promises.

He really is such a dork.

He’s so adorable. So unbearably, intolerably cute. And he’s currently wiping Goro’s tears away and saying nothing, he’s just smiling sweetly and adoringly.

Despite the promise, Akira still kisses him now like there’s no place on earth where he’d rather be, and nothing in this world that he’d rather do.

“...I-I’ll do my best,” he squeaks out before Akira kisses him once more.

#shuake #akeshu #goro akechi #akechi goro #akira kurusu #Persona 5 #p5 #Magi fics

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qjhughes · 4 years

Text

here’s to us

Pairing: Harry Styles x Reader

Genre: Enemies To Lovers (with a twist)

Word Count: 5.3k

Summary: You hate Harry more than you’ve ever hated anyone else, and he feels the same (or does he?). The people around you see the interactions that the two of you have and believe that you’re a match made in heaven, but you can’t see it, and you doubt he can either. When he’s the last option to help you with a project that you’re working on, things are either going to go very well, or they're going to crash and burn.

Warning(s): alcohol, cursing, kink talk, angst, sadness, innuendos, tension, a set of lovers trying to convince two people that they’re meant for one another, fluff

A/N: this was originally a piece written for a writing challenge but that’s been cancelled (i love u liv take your time i will still participate in any and every wc you ever do bb) so this is now just another piece haha!! Thank you to @tbslenthusiast and @harrysclementines for letting me know that this piece wasn’t as bad as i thought it was (literally forever ago like.... i wrote this a long time ago lmao)!!! Also thank you to @kiwismoon for letting me send you parts of the fic and scream about how much i hate myself for writing things like i did!!!

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Relaxing.

That’s what you were supposed to be doing tonight. You’ve been stressed out about the article that was due in less than a week and you were in need of a night out with your friends. No matter how hard you tried, you couldn’t find the inspiration to write the piece. Plus, you had been completely swamped with your school work. Even though you were still in college, you had gotten a job as a writer and chosen to take online classes.

Sarah had suggested that you and her go out and have a few drinks. That had quickly developed into you, her, and Mitch. Then your ‘friend’ Michelle was added into the mix.

Now, you’re standing at the bar, waiting for your next shot of tequila and wondering how you let Sarah talk you into this. You hate bars. In all honesty, you only hate them because someone always seemed to mess up your nights when they were drunk. Luckily, that someone isn’t here tonight. You had made it abundantly clear to Sarah that if she were to invite anyone, it better not include him.

As the bartender hands you your shot, you down it and place the glass down on the bar. You wait for him to retrieve it before turning to walk back to the table that Sarah, Mitch, and Michelle are occupying. Right before you sit down next to Sarah, you catch a glimpse of a very particular head of curls. Your stomach drops at the sight, and you immediately feel the urge to exit the building. There’s no way that you could mistake that for anyone else but Harry. He’s the only person that has curls as seemingly perfect as that. Plus, he’s the only broad shouldered, muscular, tattooed man that you’d ever seen around here with hair that’s grown out to the point where it passes his shoulders.

Fighting the instinct to be as far away from him as possible, you sit down next to Sarah and do your best to ignore his presence.

That lasts all of three seconds. It’s as if something is pulling your focus towards him, and you can’t stand that, so you quickly tell Sarah that you’re going to head out. Grabbing your coat, you give her a story about suddenly having inspiration and not wanting to lose it before offering to take her almost empty cup back to the bar. She nods, wishing you a farewell.

As you’re making your way over to the bar, someone knocks into you and the small amount of liquid left in Sarah’s cup splashes onto your chest. You scoff, turning to tell whoever bumped into you to watch where they’re going. You’re met with a pair of piercing green eyes, and suddenly your words get caught in your throat. All you manage is a scoff and a quick “fuck you” before handing him the cup and walking out.

You stand outside of the bar, leaning up against the brick wall of the building as you order an Uber for the ride home. The stench of alcohol is radiating from your shirt, and you almost gag at the smell. Beer has never been your favorite, and you have absolutely no clue how Sarah can drink it.

You place the order and go to stand on the sidewalk to wait for the car to pull up.

“Fancy seeing you here.” The voice seems to carry through the entire street.

“What the fuck do you want, Harry?” you snap. The chuckle that he releases at your words makes your blood boil.

“Just wondering why you’re avoiding me, love.” You don’t have to turn to know that he has a smirk plastered on his face.

“Do you have a degradation kink or something?” Your words have their desired effect as he all but chokes on the air.

“Um, no. Why? You trying to turn me on, darling?” You roll your eyes.

“Absolutely not.” How can he be so fucking annoying all the time? “I’m just wondering why you continuously pester me after I tell you how much of a dick you are and that I absolutely cannot fucking stand you.”

“Because normally when you do that, you find some way to compliment me. And I think it’s funny how flustered you get when you realize what you said.” You hear him walk closer to you, but you keep your eyes locked straight ahead of you.

“So you have a praise kink.”

When he speaks, his breath hits your ear. Fuck, you didn’t know he had gotten that close. You have to fight the shiver that’s threatening to run down your spine. You can’t give him the satisfaction of knowing that he’s having any kind of effect on you. “Do you want to test it out?”

You scoff, stepping away from him. “You fucking wish, Harry.”

He hums. “Maybe, maybe not.”

You finally turn to him. After seeing him, though, you begin to regret your decision. Seeing him like this, in a white t-shirt and black skinny jeans, hair forming his face in the most perfect way, isn’t doing you any good.

“I’m not going to be your temporary fix, Harry. Go find someone else to give you a good time.” He puts on an exaggerated pout. “I don’t even like you as a friend, so stop fucking around like that. It pisses me off.”

Before he can say anything else, your Uber arrives and you check the plates before getting in the backseat and shutting the door, effectively blocking him out.

What he would have said if your Uber hadn’t pulled up, though, is something that Harry decides you’ll never get to know. Because just when he was about to say, “I’d want you to be more than temporary,” you found a way to break his heart yet again.

The Uber driver has continuously given you looks since you got into the car. His nose scrunched up the moment that you closed the door, and honestly, you can’t blame him. You smell like cheap beer and probably look like an absolute mess. He’s most likely just checking to make sure that you don’t look like you’re about to throw up all over his backseat.

You roll your eyes, trying your best to ignore him. It’s not even your fault that you’re like this right now, it’s Harry’s.

Harry, who you absolutely despise with every bit of your being. He’s been an arrogant, selfish dick since the very day that you met. He only cares about things when they include them, constantly dropping comments about his success, and always finding a way to insert himself into any and every situation. You can’t seem to get away from him. He seems to be around no matter what you try (at first, you thought it was a coincidence, but now you’re convinced that he just does it to get on your nerves).

Harry, who’s so fucking annoying and unbearable but also so hot that he makes your mouth all but water. He can draw a reaction from you without even trying. Harry, who you’re so fucking attracted to despite hating him, and that fact makes you hate him even more.

It shouldn’t be like this. You shouldn’t be attracted to someone that makes your blood boil.

I’m just drunk, you repeat to yourself as you push the thought of Harry as far out of your mind as you possibly can.

You groan as you walk out of the kitchen.

“Y/N you know I’m right!” Sarah yells after you. “Stop trying to avoid it.”

Plopping down on Sarah’s black faux leather couch, you roll your eyes even though she can’t see it. “You’re delusional, Sarah!”

She doesn’t say anything until she comes into the living room and sits on the couch next to you. She has a bowl of chips in her hands. When you go to grab one, she pulls the bowl from your reach.

“Admit it, you and Harry would be absolutely great together.” You could scream. She’s so adamant about the idea, but there’s no way that she could be right.

“Dude, we hate each other. What do you mean? What do you expect from us in a relationship if we can’t even be in the same room together for more than a few minutes without arguing.” She sighs, running a hand through her hair.

“I know, I know! But Y/N, come on. The two of you are so compatible.” You laugh at her words. How could she possibly think that when she sees the way the two of you interact.

“How so?” you ask, just to entertain her theory and let her get her thoughts out.

“Okay, hear me out. You both like music, right? He sings, you write songs. That’s literally perfect right there, even if you were just friends.” You nod, not saying anything. “You’re always talking about how you want to do hair and nails and stuff for your friends and I know that he’d let you paint his nails and play with his hair.” You had in fact been telling her these things, but you weren’t aware that she would choose to use them to try and set you up with Harry. “You’re both really funny and smart. You guys talk about a lot of the same things, too. It’s just never when you’re around each other.”

“Alright, yeah, that makes some sense.” She perks up slightly but you hold a finger up, motioning for her to wait a moment before getting her hopes up. “It makes sense, but you’re forgetting a few things. I couldn’t write songs for, or even with, Harry. He’d find something wrong with him just like he does now. He’d nitpick them until there was nothing that I could find about the song that he didn’t hate.” You sigh, thinking back to what she had just said. “We’d have to be too close to each other for me to mess around with his hair or nails and you know that every time we get within a few feet of each other, there’s some kind of fight that always gets started,” you trail off, giving her a chance to speak.

“Are you going to give me a reason why the last example of why you’re perfect for each other is incorrect?” She groans when you nod.

“Yeah, actually. We may like the same things and be funny and smart or whatever, but there’s no way that we’d be able to talk to each other.”

“Why?”

“His communication issues.” She throws her head back and obnoxiously groans.

“He doesn’t have communication issues.”

You burst out laughing. “He’s an Aquarius. Of course he does, right on top of those commitment issues.”

She rolls her eyes at you. “Whatever, Y/N. One of these days you’re going to understand that the two of you are quite literally a match made in Heaven.”

“Not likely,” you mumble before reaching for the remote and finding a movie to put on.

“Wait, what?” Mitch is looking at Harry like he’s grown a second head.

“You guys were right. Always have been, really, I just couldn’t say it before now.” Harry gulps, waiting for the ‘I told you so.’ It doesn’t come, though.

“Fuck, dude, I’m so sorry.” Harry shrugs it off.

“Not letting it get to me anymore. I’m tired of letting her break my heart.” He curses himself when tears begin to line his eyes.

“If I had known you really felt that way I would have backed off.” Harry nods at his words. “Sarah would’ve too.”

“It’s fine, Mitch, really. I just, I’m just tired, you know? It’s like there’s a magnetic force pulling me to her but every time I try to get close she shows me, yet again, that she can’t stand me.” He’s never been ashamed to show his feelings, and right now isn’t when he’s going to start. He lets his tears fall down his face as he leans back against the chair he’s sitting in.

“I really didn’t know, H. Normally I can tell when you like someone but it wasn’t like that this time.” Harry nods at him.

“You get pretty good at hiding your feelings when you’re hiding heartbreak after heartbreak.” He’s silent for a moment. “Should I cut off my hair?”

“If you want. But don’t do it just because you’re sad or you’ll regret it.” Harry closes his eyes as he debates the decision. A part of him wants to do it anyway, make the sadness go away for a moment as the exhilaration of a new haircut sinks in, but the rational part of him knows that Mitch is right.

As he sits there with tear stained cheeks, new droplets wetting his face every few seconds, he really wishes that he could hate you. He wishes that he could find anything to hate about you. But when he searches his brain for a reason to dislike you, he comes up empty. It’s frustrating, really. You seem to hate everything about him while he can’t hate a single thing when it comes to you.

He hears Mitch get up, presumably to go get something to eat, but he doesn’t open his eyes. There are a million memories with you flashing through his mind and it hurts him even more to know that every single one of them have been bad.

“What do you mean you can’t do it?” Your voice is high pitched, some would even say a little whiny. “Sarah, you promised me that you’d sing the song for me.”

“I know, Y/N. But something urgent came up with Mitch’s family and I have to be there.” Even over the phone, you can hear how worried that she is, so you can’t really bring yourself to be upset with her.

“It’s fine, Sarah. Really, I understand.” You hear her sigh of relief and a small smile graces your face, glad that she now has one less thing to worry about. “I’ll just find someone else to do it.”

“Ask Harry.” She suggests.

“Why would I do that?” The way your mood changed was immediate and it’s almost sad, how fast he gets you worked up.

“Because, Y/N, this project is due in like two days and he’s available.” She says in her duh voice. “Plus, he can sing really well, so just ask him. The worst thing he can say is no.”

“That’s a lie. The worst thing he can say is yes.” Sarah laughs before wishing you good luck and hanging up.

You groan, thinking about what Sarah said. She’s right, honestly. There’s nobody else that you’re going to find on such short notice, especially not one that can sing as good as Harry can. Admitting to yourself that you need him (which is something you never thought you’d say), you pick up your phone and click on his contact.

“Y/N?” His voice sounds deeper than usual, a little raspier, too. Almost like he just got out of bed. You’d be lying if you said it didn’t have an effect on you, the way your name sounds coming out of his mouth when he sounds like that.

“I need your help.” You grimace at the words.

“Alright. What do you need.” Your mind races, trying to figure out why he didn’t have a sarcastic comment or a snarky remark to throw at you. You ignore it for now, though.

“I need you to sing a song that I wrote for a project.” He hums, and you can picture him pulling his bottom lip between his fingers and then running his hand through his curls.

“Okay, when do you need me?”

“Does tomorrow work? Around noon?” You hold your breath as you hope for the best.

“Yeah, I’ll be at your place then.”

You thank him and hang up, letting your phone fall from your hand down onto the couch. Harry Styles, the man that you swear you hate, is coming to your house tomorrow.

When he arrives the next day, you almost immediately hand him the song and let him read over it, not necessarily wanting to spend any more time with him than needed. When he says he has a few suggestions, you’re terrified that he’s going to tell you how awful he is, but he actually only has a few suggestions to help with the flow of things. Besides that, he promises that it’s a really good song.

You go to grab your camera and set it up while he strums on the guitar that he brought. Once you’re ready to begin filming, he sets the paper with the lyrics on it to the side and nods.

He begins singing after the camera has started recording and you get entranced by him almost immediately. His eyes close as soon as the first word leaves him mouth and with them shut you feel much more comfortable while looking at him. His hair is flowing all around him and you have the intense urge to tuck the strands behind his ears. There’s a small crease between his brows, that of which she wants to smooth out with a kiss to his forehead. He seems so concentrated, and something about it pulls at her heartstrings.

You shake your head. He’s your enemy, remember? you think to yourself as you divert your eyes to somewhere else in the room.

After you’ve looked away you find yourself wondering why. Why do you hate Harry so much, really? Yeah he can be arrogant and cocky and rude but who isn’t? Yeah he talks about his famous life and his awards and chart placements a lot, but you would do the same in his shoes.

Plus, he really is pretty funny now that you stop to really think about it. He’s all the things that Sarah had told you over the past few months, and you can’t believe that you didn’t realize until now. You don’t hate Harry, you’ve been convincing yourself that you do to hide the way that you really feel about him.

You’re broken from your thoughts when he clears his throat. Once you turn to him, there’s a smirk on his face. “Could feel you watching me, love.”

Your cheeks burn at the statement. Regardless of the truth in it, you’re still not very keen on admitting that you were ogling him only minutes prior.

“It’s alright, I find myself looking at you sometimes, too.” You don’t say anything to that, and the room falls quiet.

With that stupid smirk, that’s way too hot for it to natural and fair, he picks up his keys and his coat and walks to your front door. “See you later, sweetheart.”

You raise your hand in a pathetic half wave goodbye and try your best to smile. As he opens the door, cold air sweeps through the room and you can see the snowflakes falling outside. “Great, there’s a storm.” He groans, but still continues to walk out the door.

“Harry, wait!” He stops, turning to face you. “What the hell do you think you’re doing?”

“Um… leaving?” He gestures towards his car that’s most likely covered in snow by now.

“Not in this weather you’re not.” Your voice grows hard as you glare at him. You know that he’d most likely rather not be around you, but there’s not a chance in hell that you’re going to allow him to risk his life by driving home.

Surprisingly, he doesn’t put up a fight, he just shuts the door and shrugs his coat back off. He hesitantly comes back over to take a seat on the couch. You stay silent, struggling to find the words to say.

“So, um, do you want to watch something?” He asks after a few minutes of nearly unbearable silence.

“Yeah, I’ve been watching Lucifer on Netflix, but if you don’t want to watch that, we can watch a movie or something.” You offer, looking over at him.

“Yeah, we can watch that.” You grab the remote from the table and walk over to sit next to him on the couch.

Pulling up Netflix and starting Lucifer, you let your eyes wander to Harry for a split second before noticing that he’s already looking at you. You immediately divert your gaze. Your cheeks begin to heat up, but you try your best to ignore it.

After watching almost an entire season of Lucifer, you’re just about ready to go to bed. You’ve gotten increasingly more comfortable beside Harry and you’ve even started to lean into him slightly. Not a single part of your body is touching yours, but you can tell that you’ve gotten closer.

You’re about to get up and brush your teeth when the lights go out. You groan, throwing your head back against the back of the couch. “Great, power’s out.”

He doesn’t say anything, just hums in response.

“Stay where you are. I know where the candles and the flashlight is, and I don’t want you to hurt yourself trying to get around.” You stand up, feeling your way through the living room towards the kitchen. Opening the cabinet closest to the wall, you pull out the three candles and the flashlight. Fuck, you forgot that there are only two candles. That’s not enough for there to be one in the hallway on the table, in the bathroom, and in the living room for Harry. And fuck, your extra blankets are in the washer.

You shake your head, lighting the candles and walking to the bathroom to place one down, and then through to the hallway to do the same. Making your way back to the kitchen, you pick up the flashlight and switch it on.

Once you reach the living room again, you clear your throat. “Okay, bad news. There were only two candles, and they need to be in the hallway and the bathroom.” You cough awkwardly. “Also, my extra blankets are dirty and I don’t want you to lay out here in the dark and freeze to death so,” your voice gets quieter, “do you maybe wanna come lay with me?”

He chokes on his spit and then clears his throat. “Um, yeah, yeah, sure. If that’s okay with you, of course. Remember, I can always go home.” You shake your head as his words.

“Nonsense, come on.”

Once the two of you are in your room, you climb into your bed and wait for Harry to do the same. Neither of you say a word as you get comfortable as you try to get to sleep. Without the heater working and there only being one blanket, though, it’s a little hard to stay warm and comfortable. “Um, Harry, I- can I- you- can we maybe… fuck I don’t know.”

You feel him turn towards you. “Are you cold, love?”

“Yeah.”

He wraps his arm around your waist and pulls you closer to him, letting you lay your head on his chest and wrap yourself up in his embrace. His arms come to wrap around you and one hand finds its way to your hair as the other rests on your hip.

As you bask in his warmth, you try your best to not let yourself think about the way that you feel so perfectly comfortable in his arms. About how he smells so divine and he’s so warm that you’d be content with never leaving his embrace. About how, without even realizing it, you’ve been letting yourself believe that you hate Harry when really you’re in love with him. However, you’ll never tell him that. Not a chance. If there’s one thing that you absolutely will not do, it’s let Harry Styles break your heart.

When you open your eyes the next morning, you’re still in Harry’s arms. He isn’t awake yet, so you let yourself appreciate the way that his hair is tickling your face and the way that his arms are holding you tightly to his body. You let yourself enjoy the way that he’s got ahold of you like he can’t bear to lose you.

You know that when he opens his eyes, everything is going to go back to normal. You’ll have to hate him again and he’ll pretend that none of this ever happened. That thought shouldn’t hurt you as much as it does.

You’re broken out of your thoughts by his voice. “Mornin’, love. Did you sleep well?”

You nod, all but entranced in the way that his voice is so much raspier when he first wakes up. “Sorry for being all over you, it was cold last night.”

You go to move away from him, but he keeps you hugged to him. “Don’t apologize, like having you here, dove.” The words confuse you, but you don’t question them. Instead, you let yourself relax back into him.

Everything is silent for a few minutes, but the air is comfortable this time. “Do you wanna go get some coffee if the roads aren’t bad?” Harry whispers.

“Yeah, sure.”

The two of you climb out of bed and get ready for the day. You let him use an extra toothbrush and once you brush through your hair, you hand the tool to him. He gives a small “thanks” and gets to work on taming his hair as you walk out of the bathroom.

A few minutes later, he’s walking towards the living room with his keys and then he’s leading you out the door to his car.

The ride to the coffee shop is silent besides the hum of the radio, neither of you really knowing what to say.

Once the two of you slide into a booth at the little diner that he drove you to, you order a coffee and something as he does the same.

“So, tell me about yourself, Y/N. I don’t really know much about you.”

You hesitate for a moment, trying to figure out what to tell him.

“I write. My job is to write articles for this company. But I’m still in school technically, so I’m taking online classes to finish getting my degree. I like songwriting. Um, I think that’s about it.” Your cheeks heat up as you tell him about yourself, although none of the things that you’re listing are embarrassing.

“Why haven’t you ever talked about your songwriting before?” He ponders, placing his elbow on the table and resting his chin on his hand.

“Um, you hate me. Or.. hated me? I don’t know. I don’t want you to tear it apart just because you’re some hotshot writer. Or because you hate me.”

He pulls back, looking down. “Never hated you.”

“What?” You had to have heard that wrong.

“Ever stop to think why I was only rude when you got rude first?”

Your jaw drops as you think it over. “No, um, I didn’t.”

“Yeah, well. I never hated you.”

“So, you’re telling me that I hated you and you just… never hated me?” He grimaces.

“Yeah.”

“Fuck, I’m sorry.”

He offers you a soft smile. “It’s fine.”

Throughout the next few hours, you sit there with Harry and talk about any and everything that comes to your mind. He pays for the bill, although you insist on letting you help. As you’re walking out to his car and he’s about to drive you home, he stops. “Um, hey would you maybe want to hang out some more?”

The question takes you by surprise, but you agree nonetheless. “Yeah, I actually would really like that.”

He nods, climbing into the car as you smile to yourself.

It’s been six months since you made Harry stay over at your house because of that pesky snowstorm, and you’ve never been more thankful for the weather.

You’ve spent the majority of your time together, going out to eat when possible and staying over at your house most nights. His is too big, as you’ve always said, so for the simple sleepovers, you insisted that he came over to yours. You’ve grown closer and closer to him, and now you can confidently say that he’s your best friend.

Along with the growing friendship, your feelings have gotten deeper. There’s not a single part of you can deny that you’re absolutely, head over heels in love with Harry. And you don’t want to anymore. You still don’t want to tell him, but you’re no longer lying to yourself in the slightest.

Today is the only day thus far that you’ve even slightly regretted how close that you’ve become with Harry. And that’s because you’re currently standing at the airport, head buried into his chest as you try to find a way to say goodbye for the next six months.

“Don’t want you to go.” You whine as you hold him as close as you possibly can.

He murmurs a “fuck it” before pulling away from you.

“Come with me.” Your eyebrows raise in surprise. “I know, it sounds crazy. Absolutely ridiculous. But listen, we’ll go home, back to your place and we’ll pack your bags and then we’ll go. I’ll reschedule my flight. I- I can’t do this without you, Y/N.” He reaches up and runs a hand through his curls (which you’d begged him to let you braid, but he said it was easier to have it down for flights). “Listen, you’re my rock. I- I feel like I can breathe when you’re around me. Fuck, Y/N, I’m in love with you.”

You freeze, completely shocked by the words that fell from his mouth.

“Fuck, I didn’t mean to say that. That was stupid. Forget I ever said anything.” He’s rambling because he thinks there’s no way that you can feel the same but you do.

“I’m in love with you, H. Have been for a long time.” Before he can respond, you surge forward and grab his face in your hands. Bringing his face closer, you slot your lips with his and allow the kiss to envelop you. After a few moments, you pull back. “Let’s go home and get my bags packed.”

#harry styles #harry styles x reader #harry styles angst #harry styles smut #harry styles fluff #harry styles writing #okay yeehaw tell me what you think #here's to us

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danielxricciardo · 3 years

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Hi love the writing! Could you do something angsty around 26 or 35 with max??

Summary: You found out Max cheated on you

Warnings: angst, swearing

Word count: 2.5k

26. “Those things you said yesterday, did you mean them?”

35. “What will you do if we break up?”

'Max is looking at you' you read what your best friend Anthony, an engineer at Red Bull Racing, wrote.

And you worked at Red Bull Racing too, you decided with Max Verstappen, your boyfriend, that this is the best way for you to travel with him. You didn't have a complicated job. You dealt with filtering the negative ad on the team and then you gave it to Victoria to deal with the articles as she knew.

'Okay, let him look,' you write on the piece of paper that Anthony wrote quickly on.

You were at a meeting with all the Red Bull Racing employees, to your bad luck. Being in the same room with Max Verstappen was the last thing you wanted at the time.

Sure, your relationship was beautiful, or it had been anyway. He was whatever you wished from a man and more. He looked like a bad boy but he was the cutest and most thoughtful man you knew and he made you feel safe even when you couldn't see him.

His words still resonate in your mind and you had to make a supernatural effort not to cry.

You knew Max Verstappen loved you. He told you that every day and showed you through the gestures he made. He never gave you a reason to doubt him, and you didn't look for scandal either.

But every time you saw her, a lump appeared in your stomach. Without wanting to, you became careful around you, looking for her or Max. When you saw them talking, you looked for any excuse to go near them.

But your fear was unfounded, wasn't it? Max loved you, you were together for two years and you were fine.

But you also looked at her. She had also had a long-term relationship with Daniil Kvyat, a relationship of almost three years and they have a little girl together. There can be nothing between them.

Anthony has told you several times that Max and Kelly have been spending a lot of time together, at least lately, and you said you weren't worried. Why would you be?

But last night all your worries and fears came upon you at once. Anthony told you he saw Max leave the paddock with Kelly and didn't come back for about three hours. He didn't want to pay attention to this thing but when Anthony went to the driver to show him some sketches he noticed a small bruise on the backside of his neck.

"Really?" he tells you laughing. "How old are you to leave hickeys on your skin? Only teenagers still do that."

You felt all the color drained from your face. Hickey? You never left anything like that on his skin.

Anthony probably realized that what he said was not about you.

"Y/N... I'm so sorry..."

"It's ok," you say and smile at him even though you wanted to die at that moment. "I need a little bath, I'll be right back," you say and get up from the chair.

You started crying in the bathroom. You were disappointed, scared, disgusted, and shocked. To learn that someone you trusted unconditionally had been lying, cheating, and had developed an emotional bond with another woman behind your back was not registering in your brain.

Yes, you weren't a model, you didn't look like one, but Max always told you that you were perfect and that no other woman compares to you.

You literally could not wrap your head around what was happening...

You hoped that your darkest thoughts would never come true, but they did. Max and Kelly. Together. Behind your back.

It feels like every nerve in your body has either frozen or left your vessel completely. Your body literally enters a state of shock; adrenaline. You are absolutely stripped. Vulnerability. Disbelief. Disgust. Horror. Anger. Confusion. Shattering, crippling, traumatizing heartbreak.

Trust, honesty, and respect are necessary for a relationship, and Max just shattered all three at once. You have been the victim of an emotional crime. You ask yourself, how could this person fuck me over like this?

I trusted them.

I loved them.

I was loyal to them.

I kept my end of the fucking bargain.

How could you emotionally manipulate me?

What was I lacking?

Am I the problem?

Truly sickening, reality-twisting, mind-fucking stuff. You just couldn't believe that this was happening to you. Infidelity is something you hear about quite often, in books, movies, the media, or to other people, but not to you. This was somebody you loved with all of your heart, who told you he loved you, who had never shown the slightest inclination of dishonesty or moral transgression or disloyalty.

"Y/N, are you okay?" you heard Anthony behind the door, the fear and worry present in his voice.

"I'm fine," you say, though no one would have believed you. "I'll be there in a moment."

You splashed some water on your face, looked in the mirror, and bit your lip. You looked like hell. The eyes were red, the small veins that irrigated the eyeballs were broken, the face was red, in a combination between the violent crying crisis and the anger you had.

What were you going to do? Will you pretend you didn't know anything? Will you tell him you knew? Were you going to break up with him or were you going to wait for him to break up with you to be with Kelly?

You finally came out of the bathroom and Anthony was waiting for you at the door. He hugged you tight and assured you that everything would be fine. But he had no way of knowing that. It was nothing more than his simple hope that his best friend would not lose her fucking mind.

The phone starts ringing. Anthony lets you go and he goes to see who's calling you. He gives you a worried look. You immediately realized that it was Max who was calling you. Tears began to flow down your cheeks again and Anthony took your reaction as an invitation for him to answer the phone.

"Hey, man," he replies, and you don't hear what Max is saying. "No, she went for a coffee and left her phone on the table. Okay, I'll tell her. Okay, bye."

You approach him after he's finished the call to make sure you don't hear Max's voice.

"He said to go to his room."

"I don't want to see him."

"I realized that. Let's go, we'll deal with this problem later."

You went for a walk. The fresh air calmed you down a bit, but you had all kinds of thoughts in your mind.

How many times has this happened? Did you really want to know that? You really wanted to know how many times he kissed her and then he would come to you and tell you that he loves you.

If Anthony hadn't seen the hickey, how many more times did he planned to cheat on you?

Did he love her? That would have hurt you the most, knowing that you failed to give Max the love he needed and had to look for it in the arms and bed of another woman.

"Just know that I understand your feelings. I've been through this myself." Anthony breaks the silence and you look at him. "To be cheated on, it's a feeling of helplessness and zero self-worth. You feel as if you didn't do enough for that person which is why they reached out for someone else sexually or romantically. You blame it on yourself half the time. You dig for answers in your memories to try to figure out where you went wrong, where things started to go in a different direction. You hope that it won't happen again. You hope that the saying "once a cheater, always a cheater" it's just a myth. They broke your trust, how could you ever trust them again, right? You become paranoid when they go out at night or they don't answer your phone calls by the first ring. You find yourself having more down and depressed days than happy days. And a lot of questions will always replay in the back of your mind. Why? Why now? Why with them? How could this be happening to you? No matter how many times you get an answer, it won't be enough. Day after day, it'll get better but worse at the same time."

After two hours you returned to the paddock. You were immediately notified that Max was looking for you everywhere and he was worried he couldn't find you. Ironic, isn't it?

"Y/N!" you hear Max's voice.

"Do you want me to stay with you?" Anthony asks, standing in front of you to block your image of Max.

"No, it's okay. I'll handle it somehow..."

Anthony nods and leaves, staring angrily at Max.

"Hey, I was looking for you everywhere. Are you okay? Your eyes are a little red." he asks and if you didn't know better you'd think he cared.

"Let's go somewhere private."

You went to his room. You sat on his bed and thought about what you could say. You were thinking about what Anthony told you when you walked together.

Max hands you a dose of Red Bull and you take it, feeling your throat very dry.

"We need to talk," you tell him and you feel your eyes start to sting. It was not yet time to start crying.

"Okay? Is something wrong?"

"Is it true what Anthony told me?" you ask and you see that Max doesn't know what you mean; how would he know? "Is it true that you and Kelly spent some time together?"

His face went blank for a moment as he tried to understand.

"What you mean?"

You reach out your trembling hand to the collar of his polo shirt to lower it where Anthony told you it was the mark.

And Anthony was right. There was, in front of you, the hickey Kelly made on him.

Max didn't expect that. He looks at you with wide eyes and you hear his heart start beating harder. Sweat dripped down his forehead.

He looked away from you, numb. You discovered his secret. You didn't know if he was afraid of your reaction or sorry you found out his little secret.

"I didn't intend to hurt you," he says, and you realize he's telling the truth.

He had a guttural voice.

You smile at them. A broken smile that hid the primordial desire to cry and hit him with all your best.

"I don't care about your intentions. They're irrelevant. You didn't intend to hurt me? Well, you didn't intentionally try to keep me from harm either."

You don't know where you had the strength to look into his eyes and not cry. Max looks crushed. Because you found out? Because you're breaking up? Because he has to put an end to the affair with Kelly?

"How long was it actually going on before I found out?"

You see Max trying to think of an answer that doesn't affect you so much or destroy you at all.

"For less than a month," he answers.

One month? Where were you a month ago? In Spain. Did something happen there? Did you notice anything strange about him? To his behavior? No. You didn't notice anything.

Was he really that good at hiding his mistakes?

That, of course, if he considers the relationship with Kelly a mistake.

"Did you ever think of me when you were with her?"

He did not answer. You didn't even know if you wanted to know the answer to that. What would it be like to answer that he never thought of you and that his mind was soaked in serotonin that only Kelly could think of those moments?

"I never stopped loving you."

"I don't believe you loved me while you were cheating on me. Love and betrayal are incompatible. I don't feel safe with that kind of 'love.'"

"So? You're breaking up with me?" Max asks.

Although you still had so much to say, you no longer had the power. You were so mentally and physically exhausted that you just wanted to be alone and cry.

"There's nothing else to do, is there?" you say and leave his room.

Anthony was waiting for you. He noticed that you had no tears on your face and frowned.

"What happened? Did you guys make up?"

You hug Anthony hard and cry. At that moment you gave up being strong. You gave up pretending, even in front of you, that you were fine.

Fuck it, you weren't fine. You were far from fine.

You looked back at Christian Horner, who was presenting something on the video projector. You lost the whole meeting with the crew. You had no idea what was being said.

Honestly, you don't even care what they said. You only worked there because you were Max Verstappen's girlfriend. But for eighteen hours, this was no longer true. So what's stopping you from going to Christian and telling him you're resigning? What keeps you from going home and forgetting about Max, forgetting the last two years of your life and starting over?

"That's it for today, thank you very much, friends, and let's get back to work, yeah?"

Everyone gets up from their seats. Anthony draws your attention and beckons you to look at the garage door.

You could faint then and there. No one and nothing ever prepared you for the emotions you were experiencing then. Kelly Piquet was at the garage door, waiting for the meeting to end. She was staring at Max, but he was just looking at you.

"Can we talk a little?"

You nod to Anthony that you're fine and he can leave. You look at Max and you see that he doesn't look very good. He had dark circles and you're sure he didn't sleep last night either, just like you.

“Those things you said yesterday, did you mean them?” he asks, looking down at his shoes.

"Yes," you answer categorically, looking at his face, waiting for him to raise his head so you can look him in the eye.

“What will you do if we break up? You will leave here or-” you interrupt him.

"Not 'if I break up with you,' we've already gotten over it," you say and Max looks at you with wide eyes. "We already broke up last night. I'm still here because I haven't had a chance to talk to Christian yet to tell him I'm resigning."

"Are you leaving?"

"I have nothing to do here. I came to Red Bull Racing for you."

A tear runs down Max's cheek.

"What can I tell you to stay?"

"There's nothing left to say. Now go," you say and you feel a lump in your throat. "She's waiting for you."

Max turns to the garage door to see who you're talking about.

"I gave her a text message last night and told her it was all a mistake between us."

You smile at him. "Goodbye, Max," you say then you shout for Christian.

#max verstappen imagine #max verstappen oneshot #max verstappen #f1 fanfiction #f1 oneshot #f1 one shot #formula 1 oneshot #f1 fandom #f1 2021 #f1 #f1 x reader #f1 imagine #red bull racing #formula one oneshot #formula one imagine #forumula one #formula one #formula 1

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esther-dot · 3 years

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Wasn't Tyrion had been in relationship with Shae when he married to Sansa in books like show? Yet he felt victim because Shae 'betrayed' him but he could lust after both Sansa and Shae. He was angry that Sansa is not committed to relationship but had no problems in having sex with other girls. He hold power over both of them and he knew that. Yet he plays pitty party. Also he knew his father role in destroying Tysha, Shae and Sansa lives.

Yes, he was involved with Shae in both, but there are differences in characterization which change the impression of their relationship, imo.

I thought it was pretty clear Shae was doing what she needed to do to survive in the books, and Tyrion didn’t realize that. I thought his desire to send her away felt like it was for her safety, but (if I’m remembering correctly) the show made it more questionable/hinted that it might have been about the difficulty of having Shae around when he was marrying someone else. In the show, Shae seems to genuinely care about him, but Tyrion chooses to stay in KL because he enjoys the game, so when he turns around and feels betrayed that she spoke against him/sleeps with his father, it feels completely out of touch with the position he chose to put her in. And, to me, in the show, theirs was a real, mutual, relationship, so Shae had a reason to feel betrayed by his marriage because it forced her into the role of whore again, when, that really wasn't her relationship before. I think for book Shae, it was far more practical considerations. She believed the only way to be safe/taken care of was to be with a man or he would lose interest. She has a line about impregnating Sansa but Tyrion still coming back to her that gave me the impression. I sometimes accidentally mishmash book and show stuff, so I’m trying to be careful about what was what!

Anyway, the fact is, Tyrion didn't have to marry Sansa. I think in the show they made it feel like he didn't have as much of a choice as he did in the books (but again, foggy memory). In the books, Tywin would have married Sansa off to someone else, he would have married Tyrion off to someone else, but Tyrion chose to accept because he was tempted by Winterfell and then tempted by Sansa herself. Sansa and Shae, not Tyrion, are the ones who didn't have a choice. So, if, unlike D&D (who took Tyrion's side), we take a more balanced view, we can see that there are layers here.

We have a victimized person (Tyrion) who turns around and victimizes others. I think we’re meant to understand that because Tyrion has been so mistreated, because he has suffered so, he has good reason to feel wronged by his family/the world and no matter what he tells himself about why Sansa couldn’t love him (her being a Stark, him a Lannister) he can’t get over his bitterness because he has been unfairly hated/treated before. Cumulative effect. In fact, when he kills Shae in the books, to me it felt like that was more about his dad than her. He learns the truth about Tysha, we learn that he had raped her, and here, instead of that making him have any sympathy for people caught up in his father’s machinations, he immediately murders Shae. So you’re definitely right that there is something here about how his father pulls these women into this mess and then they suffer at Tyrion’s hands.

And, worryingly, Tyrion does associate all of these women:

""She was Robert's," Tyrion said bitterly. "That was enough for Cersei, it would seem."

"Yes. It is grievous sad. I must blame myself for the poor sweet babe and her mother, who was so young and loved the king."

"Did she?" Tyrion had never seen the dead girl's face, but in his mind she was Shae and Tysha both." (ACOK, Tyrion II)

and

"Was she your wife? She … she was very beautiful …"

And false. Sansa, Shae, all my women … Tysha was the only one who ever loved me. (ADWD, Tyrion IX)

@agentrouka-blog has speculated about Tysha’s fate here, and the way Tyrion grouped Shae and Tysha and then lumps Sansa and Shae together...I worry fam, I worry! Especially because, Shae and Sansa’s response to him is described in the exact same way:

For a time she said nothing at all. Tyrion tried to speak of other things, but he met a wall of sullen courtesy as icy and unyielding as the Wall he'd once walked in the north. (ASOS, Tyrion II)

and

He wanted to reach her, to break through the armor of her courtesy. Was that what made him speak? Or just the need to distract himself from the fullness in his bladder?[...]Gently, he spoke of Braavos, and met a wall of sullen courtesy as icy and unyielding as the Wall he had walked once in the north. It made him weary. Then and now. (ASOS, Tyrion VIII)

Even knowing Shae is a whore, referring to her that way, using her as such, not giving her more, and even knowing how his father uses people, Tyrion has no mercy for her. Even knowing what his father/his family has done to Sansa, Tyrion still resents her for not opening up to him, not wanting him, and then escaping when she had the chance. He thinks Sansa is “false” when Sansa had been forced to marry him, as if he had a right to her love.

I didn’t read the story thinking this, but it occurs to me that Dany and Tyrion both desperately want love. They love their first spouses, they possibly both killed them (see that link to agentrouka’s post), they have political marriages while carrying on affairs with someone else. Idk, I don’t really have anything on that, it’s just odd.

I think the way Tyrion was made to feel unlovable as a child translates into how he resents that he is unloved by these women even though, they aren’t wronging him the way he was wronged by others. There are genuine reasons to pity him, but he is so lost in the trauma of what he experienced, he doesn’t see how they are to be pitied too, and if he had been able to step outside of himself, his own emotions for a moment, he could understand. But, he can’t, so he wrongs Sansa in a way no one could reasonably expect her to forgive (marrying her to take Winterfell/the North from her family), and he murders Shae. And yet, to him, he is still the victim.

#ask dot #anti tyrion #anti tyrion lannister

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bakugoukatsuki-rising · 4 years

Text

Deku vs Kacchan 2

So a new friend of mine I made on tiktok wanted a meta on Deku v Kacchan 2, and of course I obliged because I never get tired of analyzing their relationship.

Deku v Kacchan 2 was the starting point to a shift in their relationship, because this was when Bakugou came face to face with his inferiority complex, and all of the emotions he had been holding on to came bubbling to the surface, and I would like to preface by saying Deku is the ONLY PERSON Bakugou has EVER shown his weaknesses to without question.

We don’t ever see him cry or vent to anyone else. Not a single person. He is completely open only in front of Deku.

The first example of this is actually in the start of the manga, when Deku means to tell him about One for All out of fear Bakugou would misunderstand him, and Bakugou makes his first step in becoming better by admitting he recognizes he isn’t as strong as he always thought and that Deku beat him. This is also the first time we see Bakugou cry out of frustration, which is a side of him he only ever shows to Deku.

For reference, this is Chapter 11.

My boy is just wanting to be the best, ya know? All his life he’s been boosted up for having such a strong quirk, and for always being the best at stuff, and now suddenly he just...isn’t. That would mess with anyone’s head, honestly. But the one he spills those feelings to, it’s Deku. Not any other person, just Deku. You think if he hated Deku at this point, he would open up about such vulnerable feelings to him?

I don’t think so.

Then we have the second time he’s vulnerable and recognizing different things about himself and Deku during their fight with All Might, and it is another instance we see him crying. Yes, All Might was there, but those emotions were a direct result of Deku’s words to him about not giving up.

For reference, these are chapters 62 & 63.

Look at the raw emotion Deku is able to draw out of this kid. You will never be able to convince me he EVER hated Deku. Yes, even when he bullied him in middle school and told him to kill himself, I don’t believe Bakugou hated him. I believe that he misunderstood him and it scared him, and so he lashed out in anger since that was the only real form of emotion he knew how to properly convey. Was it right? Obviously not, but at least we are able to understand more of his thought process at that time.

So from here, we get into the end of All Might and Deku vs. Kacchan 2.

From the very start of everything, once Deku was given One for All, Bakugou has been spiraling. He had been struggling and fighting with himself, trying to come to terms with the fact that reality proves he isn’t the strongest or greatest and there is actually a shit ton he’s lacking, so he needs to change to be better. That’s a little difficult though when the person who is a constant reminder of your weaknesses is always around you.

Then he comes to the conclusion that Deku was given All Might’s power, and that is kind of like an epiphany to him. I think, when Bakugou realized All Might gave Deku OfA, he really came to understand the parts of Deku he hadn’t before. The parts that made him the perfect individual for that power, even if he acted like he didn’t know and said some shit like “I’m weak, too!” when All Might broke up their fight, he doesn’t want OfA. He wants acknowledgment. Because to him, All Might giving OfA to Deku was like saying that he is the strongest, and he deserves that power.

When in reality it’s the opposite. Deku had nothing, he was weak and powerless, and yet immediately willing to protect those around him even if it meant losing his own life, and that’s the true make of a hero. Bakugou recognized that, I believe at least, during Deku vs Kacchan 2.

For reference, these are from chapters 117 & 118

So he’s venting, obviously. This is his opening to the big bit that we’ll be getting to shortly, but this is important but he’s opening himself up to Deku. I’ll say it again,

DEKU IS THE ONLY PERSON BAKUGOU HAS EVER OPENED UP TO EMOTIONALLY

This always gets me because Bakugou knows. I made a whole separate meta about him recognizing those attributes of Deku’s and recognizing that’s what makes him so powerful in his own right.

Bakugou completely understands by this point what it is that made All Might choose Deku. He witnessed time and time again how willing Deku was to throw everything away for other people, how his desire to save came before absolutely anything else. He understands that. This is just his denial, and his pride wanting proof.

Now we’re coming to the big bits, the meat of this entire fight.

I wanted to talk in between them but honestly, they should speak for themselves.

“This battle might have been pointless. Win or lose..maybe it didn’t really matter. But at that moment, I knew I had to fight. Because the only person who understood what Kacchan was feeling, was me.”

Now we have Deku recognizing what this is all about, that Bakugou is opening himself up to him and exposing those weaknesses he’s been struggling with for so long. Guilt, fear, anger, sadness. Bakugou has been holding onto so many things and had nowhere for it to come out until this fight. Remember, right after Kamino and All Might’s end, they went straight back to every day life. Bakugou was forced to train as normal and even take the provisional licensing exam before he was able to get a moment to process everything.

Now that he had time for it, he decided to come out with his feelings, and obviously they needed to be expressed to Deku. He does this because he knows Deku is going to accept them. If he’s learned anything from his time being a little shit, it was that Deku wasn’t going anywhere, and he would listen to him whether he was screaming in anger or crying in pain. Because Deku was raised to show emotion, he cried and it was okay and he wasn’t shamed or told he was weak. He wasn’t held to some imaginary scale of strength because he...never really had any, not the way strength is perceived in this universe, at least.

But Bakugou did have strength, and so it was pushed onto him since his quirk developed, which led to his horrible combination of an inferiority complex and a superiority complex. It skewed the way he saw the people around him, and he couldn’t understand that someone could have strength even if they lacked a quirk or a way to fight. Deku had strength Bakugou didn’t, the strength to protect and care and love without restraint. It terrified Bakugou, and so he tried to push Deku away because of it.

But Deku vs. Kacchan 2 put a ton of stuff in perspective for Bakugou.

For reference this is from chapter 120.

This scene is so beautiful to me. The way it’s implied they make eye contact. The emotion in this scene alone is so powerful, and should immediately tell you their relationship will never be the same; and it wasn’t.

I feel like a lot of people don’t see a difference because Bakugou is still hot-headed and foul-mouthed, but he is in no way the same kid from before this chapter. Not to Deku, and not to anyone else. Being able to express himself and get all of that frustration out from what built up over almost a years time, it allowed him to begin truly changing himself into a better person. This was his starting point to recognizing that he can’t continue just fighting on his own, and he would eventually have to depend on other’s if he wants to be the best. He would have to open himself up.

It’s gradual, and subtle, but it’s there. There are instances of it everywhere. From him joining in on OfA’s meetings, to the ways he encourages Deku to keep getting stronger by pushing him, to the JT when he acts with his team to win, all the way to the current chapters.

Don’t get it twisted though, Bakugou’s development for himself started way before DvK2, but DvK2 is when the real development between Bakugou and Deku started, and these beautiful chapters led us all the way to 284 and 285, which was the most definitive show of development and growth I have ever seen a character make.

#bnha #mha #bnha meta #bnha analysis #bkdk #bakugou katsuki #midoriya izuku #deku #kacchan #my hero academia #boku no hero academia #bnha manga #mha manga #deku vs kacchan 2 #dvk2 #bakudeku

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unhealthyfanobsession · 3 years

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Omg I love all your drabbles they are so amazing and brilliant I can’t believe you do that for free! What a blessing you are!! I was wondering whether there would be a part four to the vacation au and if not could you do maybe more jealous Cassian but in your lawyer au I’m obsessed but honestly anything you write has me happy!

This is so sweet I am so glad you’re loving the drabbles! I did a second part to the vacation AU a couple days ago so I’m going to go with Jealous Cassian in the lawyer AU. I already *kind* of did this but I’ve been doing jealousy light lately and this time we are cranking it up to 100. This one is kinda long and pretty angsty and I think I definitely need to smoosh all these lawyer drabbles into a mini story that follows Nessian from meeting while studying for the bar exam and then through snippets of their careers so maybe that’s what I’ll do next.

Actually facing Nesta in court was an extreme rarity. All of her non pro Bono work was strictly solicitor. Drafting contracts and negotiating deals in different chic board rooms with little glass bottles of Perrier and complimentary latte carts trolling the halls.

Nesta thought that she didn’t want to litigate. She thought that people didn’t like her and because of that she was a bad advocate. She couldn’t have been more wrong.

Watching Nesta fight for something that she believed in, truly believed in, was the closest thing to a religious experience Cassian had ever known.

“And I would urge you to consider in your decision, your honour, the fact that even if it should apply in this case, the very law my learned friend is attempting to uphold is currently under review by the Supreme Court and may soon be overturned on the basis of being unconstitutional as well as unconscionable.” Nesta took a pregnant pause.

“If that happens. If this law is overturned, as you well know, it will not be retroactively helpful to my client. My client who was born here. My client who grew up in Queens. My client who can draw you a map of which bodegas has the best coffee vs the best sandwiches and their proximity to the nearest train, and if that doesn’t qualify her as an American, and a New Yorker, then I don’t know what does.” The judge smiled a little at that. It was a calculated risk, the emotional appeal. But Judge Miluski was already on Nesta’s side and she was a born and bread New Yorker and she had the rare distinction of being a member of the judiciary with a sense of humour. “If this law is overturned, which we both know is highly likely, then my client will be sent to another country, a country she has never even been to, not because she did anything wrong, but because this trial happened a few weeks too-”

Nesta trailed off, eyes caught at the quietly opening gallery door. A man stepped in. Tall and thin and… greasy. Hair slicked back with so much product Cassian didn’t think he’d feel it if he hit him on the head with a hammer. Which he desperately wanted to do. That brutish, violent, raised in foster homes in Harlem side of him that even a legal education and a closet full of Armani suits could never quite polish out of him lit on fire at the sight of this creep. This asshole who was wearing fucking asics with his $4000 suit. And no tie. Top three buttons of a pinstripe white shirt unbuttoned. What a fucking rube.

Except that this guy. THIS fucking guy, made Nesta lose her train of thought. This guy who walked into court late and had yet to drag his eyes up from Nesta’s ass, had distracted her. Caused her to tuck a strand of hair behind her ear and smile a little. This shy, light, cutesy little smile that absolutely did not belong on Nesta Archeron’s face.

When Nesta smiled it was a sly, knowing, victorious thing that curled across her lips and set Cassian’s heart hammering in his chest.

This… this was insanity.

The man smirked, deep and arrogant, as he stood at the back of the courtroom, hands slid into his pockets. Not even respectful enough of the proceedings to sit down.

Nesta gathered herself quickly. The whole mess over in under 20 seconds, but Cassian noticed it. Even as Nesta went on and cited the law and the competing jurisprudence and the ethics and the constitution, he couldn’t focus. All he could think about was that little smile.

Cassian said his final piece, the judge ruled, as they both knew she would, in Nesta’s favor, and it was all over.

Nesta didn’t even gloat like she usually would have. She just stuck her hand out, the absolute picture of professionalism, and shook his.

“Good working with you, Counseler.” She said, as if he hadn’t pulled her around the side of a building and pushed her body up against a brick wall the other day, moulding her into him as they fought over this case. Discussed their future. Their passions.

She’d rejected his invitation to dinner, but she always did. It was a part of the game. A game that Cassian was determined to win.

“Who’s the tech bro?” The sneakers with the suit and the unbuttoned shirt and the general shitty attitude all pointed to that being the only reasonable profession.

“Babe,” the slimy man in question pushed past the swinging waist high half door that separated the gallery and the space where counsel’s desks sat. “Let’s go.” He wrapped and arm too tightly around Nesta’s waist and pulled on her a little.

Cassian curled his fists into his palms so hard his nails bit imprints into the skin of his palms. Babe? Telling her when to leave? The pulling? No.

“I’m Cassian.” He held out his hand. “ADA. What firm do you work for? Haven’t seen you around.”

“Tomas.” The man scoffed, “And I’m not a lawyer. Not interested in all that gibberish you’re type is always spewing. Sounds like pure nonsense to me. I’m a tech investor.”

Yeah. That sounded about right. No actual skills. Not an engineer or developer or even a business manager. Just an idiot with a trust fund throwing money at whatever looked cool.

“Well, Tomas. Do you know why they call that big exam full of all that gibberish you hate the bar exam?” The weasel just raised his eyebrows. “It’s because once you pass it, then you are an attorney. And allowed to cross past this BAR.” Cassian pushed Tomas back out the little half door again. “Which separates the civilians in the gallery from the lawyers making their cases. So maybe learn how to show a little respect.” Cassian scoffed, flicking his eyes to Nesta, “In a few different areas of your life.”

“What the fuck, bro?” Tomas rolled his eyes. “This is why I fucking hate going to your lawyer parties and shit. Jackasses like this.”

“Tomas, please.” Nesta placed a hand on his chest, Cassian tensed, and that seemed to calm Tomas down. Not Nesta’s touch, but another man’s jealousy.

“Why don’t you bring the car around. I have to work out a court date for another matter with Cassian but I’ll be right out.”

“Yeah, ok.” Tomas glared, keeping eye contact with Cassian as he kissed Nesta’s cheek, hand travelling too far down her back. “Hurry though.”

“Of course.” Nesta smiled that same tiny little smile that made her look like a doll on a shelf and Cassian wanted to scream.

“What the fuck are you doing with a piece of shit like that?” Cassian minced no words as he turned to face Nesta.

“Excuse me?”

“Pretty straight forward question, Nes.”

“You… you don’t know him. He’s not like that once you get to know him.”

“Sure he’s not,” Cassian scoffed.

“What is your problem?”

“My problem is that your boyfriend, who I’ve never heard of or seen before today despite knowing you for years, had a chance to see you in court. Had a chance to watch you all fired up and passionate and brilliant and instead he walked in late, stared at your ass instead of listening to what you were saying, and then shoved his way up here and pulled at you to leave like you were some kind of toy he didn’t mind tearing the arm off of.”

Nesta blinked. Huffed out a breath. “We’ve been on again off again for a while. That’s why you haven’t seen him before. And he just doesn’t like lawyer stuff that’s why he’s like that in here ok? Not that it’s any of your business.”

“So you’re dating someone who not only doesn’t recognize how brilliant you are but won’t even let you talk about your job?” That was wrong. That was so wrong. That was… why Nesta was so intense with him. Why she debated and fought and talked for hours. Because she couldnt do it at home.

“Why do you even care, Cassian? Let’s just set a date and-”

“Fuck you, Nesta.” Her jaw fell open. “Fuck you for even asking me that. You know why I care. You can’t play dumb with me like I assume you do with him.”

“You don’t know anything about my relationship!” Nesta defended a little too vehemently.

“I know you can’t yell at him about his take on immigration laws,” Cassian stepped closer to her. “I know you can’t get a little tipsy off your favorite Malbec and go on a rambling tirade about the corrupt judiciary and your twenty three- or twenty five depending on the night- reasons why voting for judges completely undermines the integrity of the legal system.”

The was almost no space between them as Cassian looked down, gently set his hand under Nesta’s chin and raised her gaze to meet his. Burning with anger and passion and barely concealed desire. “I know that he didn’t understand why you were crying when RBG died. Because he doesn’t care about how appointing Supreme Court judges works or what that meant for the future of the court. And because I know that you weren’t with him that night. You were with me. Just like election night in 2016. And the Kavanaugh trials. And when the travel ban came into effect. You found me. Because I get it, and I care about your thoughts on all of those things. I’m devastated by them too. You were with me, Nes. And don’t you dare pretend that doesn’t mean anything.”

“It does,” Nesta let her cheek sink into his palm. “It means everything Cassian, but…”

“But we fight,” he smiled. “We bicker and yell and cross ideologies and disagree on all the little things. But not the big things, Nes. Never on the big things. We disagree on how to change the world, not what we want to change in it. Isn’t that what matters?”

Nesta swallowed. “I can’t risk losing you.” She said quietly. “I need you. For all of those reasons, I need you to be in my life and if we… I hurt the people I love, Cassian. So if I let myself love you, I would only hurt you. And I can’t bear the thought of hurting you.”

“So you date him.” Realization was an arrow sailing into Cassian’s chest. “Because you won’t hurt him. Because you could never actually love him.”

Nesta swallowed. “See? See how awful I am?”

Cassian moved his hand to her back, pulled her into his chest. “Go,” he whispered. “Go do whatever you need to do. I’ll be here. And I’ll be waiting for you to realize that I’m not going anywhere. That I can take it. Whatever you want to throw at me, I can take it, Nes.”

#nessian #nessian fanfiction #nesta archeron #acosf #cassian #nesta and cassian #a court of thorns and roses #sarah j maas #a court of silver flames #a court of mist and fury #acotar

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darthkruge · 4 years

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Hi! So I've been reading a lot of you stuff, and it's great! And I was wondering if you could do a Jess Mariano x reader where the reader helps Jess get over Rory. And Jess realizes that he's already in love with the reader? If not, it's fine.

Thank you!!

Summary: Everyday since Jess and Rory broke up, Jess has gone to sit on the bridge. Everyday, you join him and sit together until, one day, he breaks the silence.

Warnings: Language, this is kinda angsty. Like it ends on a positive note because you know he realizes he loves the Reader but like this isn’t intense fluff.

Words: 1.3k

A/N: Thank you!! And yes of course, I hope you like this! Also, your request was so sweet and polite, I really appreciate that :). I know that this doesn’t strictly stick to canon, but I thought this made more sense. Moreover, I just love writing Gilmore Girls when it’s set in Stars Hollow. Anyway, I hope all that’s okay <3

Oh one more thing! I’m really tired rn and I formatted this super rushed so if something’s off or I forgot something...whoops

(gif not mine)

It had been a month since Rory broke his heart. Jess Mariano still visited the bridge everyday, sitting there, legs hanging over the water, disposition more solemn than you’ve ever seen. You hated seeing him like this-- his light, sarcastic remarks had become cruel and acerbic. Some days, you barely recognized him. Despite this, he was still your best friend and you knew that if the roles were reversed, he wouldn’t give up on you either.

Lost in thought, you allowed your legs to subconsciously carry you to the bridge, as they did every other night. Jess was illuminated by the moon, the cold, Connecticut air ruffling through his hair. You came and wordlessly sat next to him, something he’d grown to expect.

Every time started the same. You’d sit down and just be there with him, keeping him in silent company for the first fifteen minutes. He could talk if he wanted to but almost never did. Sometimes, he’d take your hand and play with your fingers. Sometimes, he’d notice you were cold and wrap his jacket around you. Sometimes, your eyes would briefly meet and you’d give him a reassuring smile.

Then, you always asked if he wanted to talk about it. Usually he’d just shake his head. Occasionally, he’d complain about her, saying he deserved better and that she was a terrible girlfriend. Occasionally, he’d complain about himself, asking why he was so broken that he had to fuck up the one good relationship he’d ever been in. He never cried. At least, not in front of you.

Expecting the same as every prior encounter, you walked up and sat next to him.

“Hi,” He greeted, catching you off guard.

You made sure to scale back your reaction, not wanting to scare him off with a huge response. “Hey.”

Jess wordlessly got up and held a hand out to you. Taking it, you allowed him to stand you up and pull you into his chest. He buried his face in your neck, tears running down his cheeks. As sobs were pulled from his body, you gently rocked him back and forth, trying to pour every ounce of comfort you had into him.

Eventually, Jess pulled back and, without meeting your gaze, returned and sat down on the bridge. You followed. You took a risk, opting to rub your hand up and down his back, letting him know you were still here and encouraging him to share, if needed.

“Why do you still come here?”

You looked at him, confused. “What?”

“Why do you still come here?” He repeated, finally meeting your eyes. “All I do is sit here, silently. So why do you still come here? I know you have shit you could be doing”

“Because you’re my best friend. Because you’re in pain. Because you have a tendency to shut the entire world out and I’m not going to let you plunge into darkness.”

“I just don’t understand how it all got so fucked up. It was fine! Rory and I were fine! And then it all just got screwed up and now I’m here and she’s gone and it’ll never be the same again!” His voice broke, anger and pain evident in his voice.

“Hey!” You said, voice strong. “You’re going to be alright, Jess. I know you loved her, I know. But your life isn’t over just because she isn’t in it anymore. Please, you know how much she meant to you, but you have to start looking forward. You’ll never get past this if you keep clinging onto what could have been.”

“Fuck, I know that! I do! I just- I really thought we would work out, you know?”

Your gaze softened. Jess wasn’t always the easiest to talk to but pretty much no one ever saw this level of vulnerability with him. As he spoke, he realized this, too. He was never more honest, more open, than when he was with you.

“I know you did. I thought you would, too.” It killed you to not scream ‘I’m right here!’ as he talked about his failed relationship. But you wouldn’t do that to him right now. He needed a friend, not someone dumping all these romantic feelings on him. Besides, you’d grown accustomed to swallowing your feelings for him. You realized long ago that he’d never like you back and you much preferred to have him in your life, even as only a friend, than lose him altogether.

Jess and you slipped back into that silence you were so accustomed to. He thought about the last month, about what a shit friend he’d been to you. He was beating himself up mentally, stuck in this unhealthy spiral. He knew you didn’t deserve it but he felt like if he pushed you away, you’d be better off. Further, he was trying to punish himself; isolating from you was the most painful consequence of all.

He took a breath, the gravity of everything settling on him. He realized how good you’ve been, how you’d sacrificed countless hours to simply keep him company. How you spent your energy ensuring he didn’t let himself drown completely. How he could turn to you always. How you were the kindest person he’d ever met. How you were the only person he’d allowed himself to trust on an emotional level. How your displays of affection made him feel safe. How you respected his boundaries and never forced him to talk about anything. How you just understood.

Shit, He thought, I’m fucking in love with Y/N.

Instead of telling you that, Jess started off by breaking the silence one more by thanking you.

“For what?” You wondered.

“Everything. I dunno, being you, I guess.” You looked at him quizzically, lips threatening to curl into a laugh and his inability to convey his thoughts.

“Just accept the ‘thank you’ alright?” Jess continued, defensively.

“You’re welcome.” Despite your smirk, your words were sincere. It truly did mean a lot to you that he’d come to you.

Somehow, this boy continued to surprise you. Suddenly, his lips were on yours and, being stunned, you froze. Jess pulled back immediately, an apology written all over his face. Before he could get it out, though, it was like your brain started working again and you pulled him back in. He smiled into the kiss, a relieved sigh passing through the both of you. You could hardly believe this was happening but you weren’t going to question it, it’s all you’ve wanted for so long.

Your heart was racing as you pulled away. You looked at him, no idea what comes next.

“I think I’m in love with you, Y/N”

Your mind went blank. Even though you had no idea what was going to happen after the kiss, you hadn’t even entertained the notion of him being in love with you.

You scrambled to find something to say but he cut you off. “It’s alright, you don’t need to respond. I just, I wanted you to know. I think that I was too stupid to realize it before, I mean I was so obsessed with trying to figure out what went wrong with Rory. I didn’t even think about moving on and then I guess we were talking and I realized…”

He trailed off but you knew the meaning of his pauses. Collecting yourself, you decided it was your turn to say something. “I think I’m in love with you, too. Actually, I know I’m in love with you. And I have been for a really long time, I just didn’t want to mess everything up. I love our friendship, I don’t want to lose you if we start dating and something happens.”

“You won’t. Nothing’s gonna happen.” He said it with such certainty, you couldn’t help yourself. You believed him.

------

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jess tags:

@serpntines

#megan writes #jess mariano x reader #jess mariano imagines #jess mariano x you #jess mariano x y/n #jess mariano x gn!reader #jess mariano x gender neutral reader #jess mariano fanfic #jess mariano fanfiction #jess mariano angst #gilmore girls x reader #gilmore girls imagines #gilmore girls fanfiction

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