#(they're doing alright it's just something they're not really talking about currently)

[uglyducklingofthe2000s]

Do Something About It - LN

Summary: Lando started to notice he was falling for his best friend but it didn't seem like she returned those feelings. Although she does voice her opinion of his choice of company to hook up with.

Best friend!reader also tattooed!reader (not like head to toe)

No part 2 requests please

Y/n and Lando have always laughed at anyone who says they resemble anything of a couple. They've grown up together, Lando was certain he was like a brother.

Then something changed a couple months ago, y/n had what can only be described as a second puberty that took her through a transformation. She was never ugly, or unattractive but she sort of changed her fashion style, she had a new glow about her and people noticed. Much to Lando's growing annoyance, a lot of men noticed.

"Christ, who are you trying to impress?" Lando questions as y/n appears from his bathroom.

They're going out tonight in Monaco and y/n looks as amazing as always, dressing herself in heels (which despite her glow up, she'll be crying about later) and a white short dressed that flashes her legs and allows her thigh tattoo to be on show. It's is unreadable to anyone who actually looks at it, but he knows it's a quote from her favourite song.

"A rich man who wants to spontaneously marry me, change is will for everything to go to me and then die mysteriously." Y/n smirks earning an eye roll while Max looks at her.

"You are a dark-minded individual." Max comments shaking his head. "But Lando is right, you look good."

"Thank you, Max." Y/n smiles before looking at Lando pointedly. "Are we ready to go? I know you're just chomping at the bit to tell me you've been waiting for me."

"Well I am meeting Lottie (sorry to any Lottie's, it's just a random name) when we get there." Lando states checking his watch. "And we are late."

"Fashionably late and she'll be there after us. Probably stalks your location." Y/n snorts having never hidden her dislike of Lando's current choice of company when it comes to women in his bed.

Max pulls a face to the others who are having to be a witness to the bickering as Lando jumps to Lottie's defence.

Truth be told everyone knows that y/n doesn't like Lottie because Lottie isn't a very nice person. She's just the only one with the courage to tell Lando. But they also all know Lando is using Lottie as means of trying to distract himself from y/n and his very obvious growing feelings. If y/n wasn't so oblivious it might be easier to be a witness to it.

"Alright, kiddos. Shut up, and let's go." Max finally cuts in while y/n huffs and moves ahead. "You could just tell her how you feel mate."

"I don't know what you're talking about." Lando states with a tone that tells Max to keep himself quiet.

"Alright, if that's how you want to play it." Max shrugs since it's not his problem really, he does wants Lando and y/n to be happy and he thinks they would be if Lando would just stop being a jealous prick.

It also doesn't help that Lottie always seems to be on a mission to provoke y/n a reaction out of y/n in how her and Lando go about with each other. As if she knows that y/n has a protectiveness over Land and as if she knows Lando is using her as a means to forget his feelings for y/n.

-

Lando is usually pretty good at paying attention to other things when it comes to y/n flirting with men on nights out. but there's something different about this one. She's not just flirting, there's something in the way the man is just lightly drawing shapes on her thigh as they talk.

Her lips keep brushing his ear when she leans in to speak to him over the music, she's laughing with him and it looks like every word he says is working a charm to make her eyes sparkle in desire. Lando can't decide if he's going blind, going to be sick or actually shaking with the anger from his jealousy.

"Lando." Lottie snaps making his gaze finally tear from over her shoulder.

"What?" Lando huffs hoping he didn't sound as irritated out loud as he feels.

"I was just saying, do you want to get out of here?" Lottie asks gently stroking up his arm.

"Yeah, I'm done." Lando nods then picking up his drink and managing to down the rest of it, not exactly his ideal of how to finish the night but he can't sit and watch y/n anymore. "You go ahead outside, I'm just going to let Max know."

Lottie thankfully disappears but Lando heads over to y/n, not caring around how rude he's being as he interrupts the conversation.

"It's shit here, we're leaving. Are you coming with us or staying with him?" Lando questions watching her retract back in shock of his attitude.

Lando has been moody with her before but usually alcohol loosens any tension that's built up between them.

"I'm sorry, will you excuse us? I'll be right back." Y/n laughs lightly, trying to remain composed as she places her hand on the man's thigh then standing up with her usual smile but her grip on Lando's wrist with her nails digging into his skin is not quite a poised and calm as she appears.

She tugs them out to the balcony of the club where people tend to go when they want to smoke, though it's empty at the moment.

"What the fuck was that? Are you deranged?" Y/n questions dropping Lando's wrist as she glare at him. "I was getting along with him."

"He was a nonce."

"He's 32 and I am in my 20s, not a child." Y/n scoffs then looking at him. "Not that I even know why that would matter to you."

"So you're allowed to voice your opinion about who I decide to have in my bed but I'm not allowed to voice my opinion about who you have in yours? And you don't save it for when she's not around either." Lando states making her almost laugh.

"I speak up because it's so obvious she's using you for money and fame-that guy would've been one night of fun for fuck sake. Not someone I keep bringing back around for you to have to endure the presence of." Y/n states before Max appears and she turns to him. "Can you put him on a leash? He's acting like a dick."

"I asked if you were coming with us or staying here."

"You marched over and interrupted with no regard at all. I mean seriously, what is wrong with you right now?" Y/n questions laughing through her words in disbelief. "What is happening?" Then she turns to Max. "Do you know what the hell is happening?"

"I..." Max tries feeling that something is about to snap in one of them to meet the tipping point of this conversation, it's just figuring out who.

"See? Not even Max can explain why you're acting this ridiculous."

"Because I'm sick of seeing you with other men!"

That was definitely the last chug of his drink finally kicking into gear.

Y/n is visibly stunned and silent, the shock on her expression doesn't need to be verbalised by her.

"Maybe we should all just get out of here." Max suggests wanting to diffuse the situation that he feels suffocated by, so he can only imagine how it feels for the two of them.

"No. What do you mean you're sick of seeing me with other men? What-What the fuck does that even mean?" Y/n chokes out while Lando feels his mouth dry up. "Lando?"

"You guys shouldn't do this now." Max mumbles earnings a glare from the young woman which almost questions why he's even there. "Sorry. I'll just be inside if you guys need me."

Leaving the two to hash out what Lando just admitted is maybe not the best thing to do when they've been drinking, but it's obvious y/n won't be letting Lando leave.

"Are you doing to explain or just stay quiet?" Y/n questions slightly more softly but there's an edge to her tone that he can read easily enough. Then when she speaks again it's almost desperation. "Please talk to me, Lando."

"I hate seeing you with all those fucking guys. Every single one of them. Every time you bail on me to go home with some random guy, I want to drag you back from leaving with them." Lando admits keeping his gaze trained everywhere but on her.

This is either going to end the way Lando wishes it would or he's going to lose her, he's risking it and he knows it but the better of the outcomes would probably make everything finally feel right between them.

"I don't know really when or why things changed because we've bene friends for so long and I was-it was great being friends, but I started to feel different when it comes to you and every time I see you with another guy, I actually feel like hitting him with a car."

Y/n just looks at Lando in shock for a moment and then...she starts laughing. A hard laugh straight from the bottom of her stomach, she even moves to the edge to hold on to the railing for stability.

"Lando, have you-you've lost it, haven't you? You stand there and you get jealous. You literally hook up with Lottie who is the worst person on the planet then expect me to believe you're secretly holding back feelings for me. Whatever you drank. I need-"

"I sleep with Lottie because I can't stop thinking about you and I need to try and distract myself." Lando snaps the muttering a few more colourful words. "I know Lottie is a bitch, but I chose the easiest person who I could keep on hand for when I needed to try and stop myself from fucking things up with you."

Y/n swallows then biting her lip for a moment as her gaze flicks inside, presumably considering the fact that Max's silhouette is visible through the glass of the doors.

"We should probably go. Max was right, we shouldn't be doing this now."

And if there was ever a point Lando has been tempted to jump off a balcony. It was now.

There's a few beats of silence before she shifts forward and offers her hand, possibly her version of an olive branch to keep the peace for now.

"I just think we need to be sober." Y/n mumbles looking so completely relieved when Lando links his hand to her own allowing her to lead them inside, stopping when she sees Max. "We need to leave."

"Yeah-Yeah, let's go." Max nods pulling out his phone. "I'll just let everyone on the group chat. No point trying to track them down."

Walking out, Lando had forgot about Lottie and when he spots her once they're outside he can't help but curse to himself about it.

"Fuck." Lando mumbles as she walks up to them.

"Where the hell have you been?" Lottie exclaims making y/n's hand drop from his immediately.

"Sorry, we got caught up."

Lottie sadly has to come back with them because Monaco doesn't really have last minute options for hotels. Lando is certain you can't just randomly book for a room on the spot. So it's going to be an awkward night that's for sure.

-

"You could've said something." Y/n mumbles as she moves to climb in bed with Max since they're sharing the spare room.

"It didn't feel like my place to tell you...and you wouldn't have believed me." Max shrugs then pausing. "What are you going to do?"

Y/n doesn't answer. She considers answering. She considers discussing the whole thing for the whole night and forcing Max to stay awake through her every thought process. But she figures she'll save him from enduring that.

"I'm just going to the bathroom." Y/n mumbles since she needs to take off her make up and really get herself cleaned up from the night.

Though as she steps into the bathroom, Lando manages to slide in behind her and close the door.

"I don't want to wait, I'm sober enough to remember this." Lando states making y/n sigh and slump a little. "Y/n...I just want to know if I've completely fucked up and you're going to left here and never talk to me again."

"Lando, that would never happen. Even if you still acted like a dick before spilling your guts." Y/n murmurs using some cleansing balm after removing her false lashes. "I don't know how I feel about you Lando, it's just not as simple for me to say that I feel the same. Because I've always tried to stay away from even letting myself think like that."

"You realise, if you've had to stop yourself, then it means you have." Lando mumbles earning a pointed look. "I'm just saying."

"You've just said a lot tonight. I need...time to process and preferably time to process without alcohol possibly clouding my judgement."

"Well I'll help. Is it clouding your judgement in a way that could...change sleeping arrangements tonight?"

"You are not kicking Max out the spare room to sleep on the sofa." Y/n laughs already knowing exactly what is going to be suggested by him.

"Can I at least squish in with you guys? Lottie keeps trying to get in my pants and I'm not in the mood." Lando tries while she suppress a smile. "Not for her at least."

"I'm using Max as a barrier. He's squished in the middle."

"That's fine with me."

And it is, only because he's had to share a bed with Max and another person before and Max seems to try to get as far from Lando as possible during his own sleep. Which means y/n is like going to regret having Max take the middle spot.

After y/n finishes her skin care the two get out the bathroom and in time for Max to appear, presumably needing the toilet.

"What were you two doing?" Max questions eyeing them suspiciously.

"Lando was just begging to be in our bed, you're in the middle." Y/n smiles brightly, patting his shoulder as she walks past while Max looks at Lando in disbelief.

"Really?" Max huffs since he definitely feels like he's being dragged literally into the middle of something he'd rather not be involved in anymore than he already has been.

"Lottie keeps feeling me up, man."

"So you're going to sleep in bed with me and the girl you just confessed having been jealous about?" Max hums though it's really a rhetorical question but Lando just shrugs and manages a smile.

Eventually he finds himself laid in bed and when Max returns they are all pretty quick to fall asleep.

He does stir enough to hear y/n mumbling something to Max but only get something incoherant back. Then a shift, shuffle and thud a little while later.

"Max!" Y/n hisses making Lando groan while Max is unresponsive with nothing more than a slight grunt of his sleep being disturbed but not enough for him to actually wake up. "You two are the worst people to share a bed with. One o literally pushes me out of bed and Lando, you snore."

"Just come lie over here, he's out." Lando mumbles though he can't help but smile at her tired grumbling about his snoring. "Come on."

Y/n grumbles but seems too tired to argue as she moves around and climbs into the bed next to Lando so he's now in the middle raising the blanket for her to climb in and she drops down. Not even caring that Lando sort of takes the opportunity to cuddle her. Which might sound a little bad, but the two aren't actually strangers to cuddling as friends.

But even with him snoring behind her, she does manage to sleep better than being shoved out the bed by Max.

-

By the time y/n wakes up, she finds herself with her face completely pressed into another body. She's almost ashamed to say she knows for certain who it is purely from the smell and she sort of takes a moment breathing in the soft residue of his aftershave.

"Weirdo." Lando states making her her groan and roll away from him, or at least try to. "No. I'm sorry, I ruined the moment. Keeping sniffing me."

"No. I gotta-Lando." Y/n laughs as she's overpowered and dragged back against him. "Where's Max?"

"I don't know. Not in here with us." Lando mutters then pressing his face into her next as he takes the opportunity to return the favour of breathing in her scent. "You smell good."

"Thanks, the perfume is expensive." Y/n jokes but there's a wobbly nervousness on her tone. "Are you sure about what you said last night?"

"Yes." Lando states in a serious tone making her roll back to face him. "I meant every word and I still mean every word."

"Ok." Y/n nods lightly before swallowing thickly. "Ok."

"Ok means?" Lando nudges making her look at him, gaze caught for a burning moment before she almost twitches forward then back and while Lando has the temptation to finish the action, he just waits knowing not to push her if she's not sure.

But after a couple more moments pass she closes the space and the soft press of her lips on his own feels like she's just triggered an addiction he didn't even know he had. He can't even stop himself when he moves to pull her on top of him, not breaking the kiss.

Neither of them are even sure how long passes, neither of them even want to stop even if sex feels like it might be a step too far too quickly.

"As amazing as you taste-" is she trying to put him into cardiac arrest? "-but my stomach keeps growling...I'm starving."

"Ok, we can get something to eat." Lando laughs while she smiles and hides her face in his chest, laughing herself. "Yeah. We'll get something to eat. I'm hungry too now I think about it."

-

Max must've been polite enough to show Lottie out or she left on her own accord. Lando will have to speak will her to make the situation between them clear.

"You know, I love your tattoos." Lando comments tracing over the curly writing on her thigh, having nudged the borrowed shorts up so he can access it. "Where's the 4 tattoo?"

Y/n had mentioned a while ago that she had a hidden tattoo for Lando's driver number but she told him he'd have to guess where it was or find it since it's not out in the open making it easy to find.

"Where do you think it is?" Y/n asks making him frown.

"The bottom of your foot."

"Oh god...no. But that might've been smarter though." She sighs before slumping down a little from her spot on the sofa, shuffling till she's leaning very much back, then she pushes the shorts down and reveals her hip where the number 4 sits. Actually in the style of the empty space that makes the number in his logo. No LN but the 4 makes him smile. "Don't look it like that. It was for your stupid brands video."

Yes. A Quadrant video that landed her with a tattoo. Max's idea obviously and he thought it was hilarious. But since it's not out yet, y/n said she didn't want to show him.

It was actually filmed pretty far in advance so the tattoo has healed but Lando still hadn't see it.

"That's so cool." Lando grins while she rolls her eyes a little since he's defintiely got some bias. "I'm inked on your forever now."

"Yeah, one of the reason I could never end the friendship." Y/n jokes before sighing and tilting her head. "We're going to be a pretty go couple."

"An improvement on being jealous of each other and constantly giving me a headache." Max comments appearing seemingly from nowhere. "I do like the tattoo though."

"Your idea. If you didn't like it. I'd tattoo it on your forehead."

"That!-is an amazing idea. We should do that." Lando grins looking at Max who fakes a laugh.

"Can you two go back to bickering?" Max questions earning a middle finger from both of them. "I'm just glad one of you did something about it. I thought it'd take y/n getting engaged for Lando to snap."

Y/n wrinkles her nose while Lando's smile drops to a more serious expression before y/n nudges him with her foot after spotting his change of mood just from the thought.

"Stop frowning, it didn't happen." Y/n laughs before sighing as she pulls the shorts back up to cover the tattoo. "I just hope the tattoo curse doesn't hit us in the worst way."

"You're not that lucky to get away from him because of a tattoo." Max comments and though he joking he does have a cushion launched at his head from Lando.

"Aww...don't be mean." Y/n laughs then grinning when Lando flops down against her in a hug. "You're just annoyed that you're the third wheel now."

"I was always the third wheel with the two of you. I wasn't as blind as you or in as much denial as him." Max smiles and though he might sound bitter, he's actually happy to see the two of them finally together. It's been far too long in the waiting. "I'll happily third wheel till P is around again."

Y/n only hums before being caught in another kiss from Lando that she can quite literally feel him smiling into. He's definitely kissing her to prove a point of Max being the third wheel. But she's certainly not going to stop him.

Taglist: @namgification @hiireadstuff @jsjcue @geniusalpaca @itsjustkhaos @llando4norris

#f1 #fanfic #formula 1 #lando norris x reader #lando norris #lando norris imagine #ln4 x reader #lando norris x y/n #lando x reader #lando #lando norris x you #lando norris one shot #lando norris fanfic #mclaren f1 #mclaren #mclaren formula 1 #lando norris mclaren #lando norris fic #lando norris fluff #ln4 x y/n #ln4 #ln4 imagine #ln4 fic #ln4 fluff #norris #ln4 x you #ln4 one shot #ln4 fanfic #f1 x reader #f1 fanfic

[rafeandonlyrafe]

safe

words: 1.1k

warnings: home break in (not really described though), drug dealer!rafe and reader, pregnant!reader, husband!rafe

“r-rafe.” your voice is timid and shaky, so unlike what rafe is normally used to hearing. he instantly knows something is off, wrong.

“baby, what is it?” rafe asks into the phone, wishing he could see your face right now, could read the emotion in your expression.

“something uh-something happened. the police are here.”

“shit, are you alright?” rafe is suddenly moving away from the party, needing the noise of music from the live band and people talking and laughing to stop drowning out your words. “is the baby alright? did barry get caught?”

“yeah, we are both fine.” you press your hand against your stomach, the spot your baby always kicks, glad when you feel her stomp against your skin, reminding you she's okay, even if you don't currently feel like you are. “its not the business. there were some um… robbers.”

“what?” rafe shouts, knowing he probably just made you jump over the phone, but he can't help the loud reaction, needing more information, and needing it now.

“yeah they came into the house. i hid in the closet, but they found me. they didn't do anything, just shoved me a bit. they did take a lot of the jewelry you got me, i don't know what else, you'll have to talk to the police and give them a full invento-”

“shit, y/n!” rafe interrupts you. “i don't care about our stuff! i only care about you and the baby. im coming home right now.”

“okay.” you whisper over the phone. “im sitting on the front porch.”

“and police are watching you?” rafe asks, hurrying to his car, not bothering to explain to anyone his sudden leaving as he tears out of the parking lot.

“yeah, they're here. don't worry, im safe. i don't think they even had weapons, at least none that i saw.” rafe can hear you take a shuddering breath, his heart breaking that he wasn't there with you, foot pressing down even harder on the pedal to get him there faster. “the police think they broke in and expected no one to be home because of midsummers.”

you look down, rubbing your hand over your belly. “guess they didn't expect me to be home because none of my heels fit anymore and even the maternity dresses make me look like a whale.” you mean it as a joke, but it has tears flowing down your eyes, wishing you would have just sucked up your insecurities and gone with rafe. you still would have got robbed, but without the trauma of being there during the break in.

“im two minutes, baby. two minutes and you'll be safe in my arms.” rafe tries to keep his voice calm for you, but it's a struggle.

“i… i just wanna be safe.” you mutter the last words of the call, voice breaking as you begin to sob. rafe hears an officer try to calm you, but he knows it won't work, knows the only thing you need is him.

he parks haphazardly behind the police cars, fully blocking the street without a care in the world, not even taking the car keys out as he runs across the yard, sprinting until he reaches you.

“im here.” his arms are finally around your shoulders. “im here.”

you continue to sob, only lessened by pressing your face into rafes chest as he cradles you, even managing to pull you onto his lap despite your protruding baby bump.

“ive got you, princess.” rafe kisses the top of your head, continuing his reassuring words, the police officers giving you some space, but not retreating any farther than the steps leading onto the porch.

“oh my god, i was so scared.” you whine out, managing to blink back your tears enough to look at rafe.

“im so sorry baby.” rafe sighs. “i should have been here.”

“no.” you shake your head. “you had to go to midsummers. it's okay.”

“as soon as you said you weren't coming, i should have canceled it. should have never left my pregnant wife at home alone. im the worst fucking husband.” rafe knows his words aren't comforting, but he needs to make sure you know that he is the one to blame for what happened.

“what?” you press your fingers against rafes cheeks. “you couldn't have known, baby.”

“i still should have been here.” rafe leans in, taking your mouth in a strong kiss. “i love you, baby.”

“oh my god, you're not gonna leave my side for the next year, are you?” you let out a tiny laugh, the noise relieving rafe, loosening some of the tension in his chest.

“definitely not, my love.” rafe pulls you closer.

“thank you for coming so quickly.” you whisper, letting your head rest against rafes chest. “i really am okay. just freaked out.”

“don't worry, baby.” rafes voice suddenly changes tone. “the second they try to sell any of your jewelry, ill find them. they won't make it far at all. ill make sure they can never hurt you or anyone else ever again.”

you know you should tell rafe to let the police handle it, to not get personally involved in clearly dangerous men, but any man who lays their hands on a pregnant woman doesn't deserve to breathe, let alone only be punished to a few months in jail like what would no doubtabley happen if you went the legal way.

“im surprised you haven't called barry already.” you laugh softly, knowing he will be just as pissed as rafe. you came into their life and helped expand the business, turning them from lowly dealers to something bigger, better. still dealing, of course, but offering protection and other services as well.

“figure id let the police leave first.” rafe rubs your back, glad that you're slowly getting back to your jokey and sharp witted self. “before he insisted on being your personal armed guard until those guys are put in the ground.”

“yeah, once baby girl pops, im going to have to ask him to teach me to shoot. just in case anything like this happens again.” you feel bad that you relied so heavily on rafes protection, that you let yourself slack to the point where an emergency arose and you hid in the closet instead of grabbing a glock.

“hey, what about me?” rafe whines, knowing he'd never let another man teach you how to shoot, not even your joint business partner barry.

“fine.” you joke, sighing and sliding off rafes lap. “you better go talk to the police about what else might be missing. i wouldn't let them snoop around.”

you don't keep anything illicit in your house, but just in case you weren't about to give the law open access to your home.

“in a minute.” rafe keeps his arms around you, not willing to let you move too far from his hold. “need to just keep my wife in my arms for a few minutes longer.”

you look out onto the sky, the stars glimmering in the darkness of light, allowing yourself to take a full, deep breath, at peace held in your husband's arms.

taglist: @winterrrnight @bejeweledreverie @drewstarkeyslut @forstarkey @f4ll-for-you @dilvcv @drudyslut @jjmaybankswifes-blog @rafescokenostril @jjsmarijuana @seeingstarks @angelofcigs @cece45450 @babygorewhore @vanessa-rafesgirl @michelleisheres-blog @outerbankspov @drewstarkeyswifehoe @cutielando @kamninaries @buckyswhxre @rafeinterlude @bellbottombaby @deeaardiary @rubixgsworld @wearemadeofstardust0 @leighbronk @starkeysheart @pradabambie @tobesolovelysstuff @alexiskirkland @rafestar @brioffthegrid

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[luveline]

Hey! Can you do something for rockstar!james x photographer!reader??

for you!!

You're standing behind a barricade and it's so fucking cold you could cry, but you have a job to do and no time to go back and get your jacket. Your arms are tired with the fatigue that comes with carrying your camera and its expensive lens around all day. 

At least you'll be paid well. And you get to see celebrities for the evening, picture perfect, handsome and gorgeous and famous enough that your breath catches when they stop for photos no matter how many times you've photographed some of them before. 

"Sirius!" The photographer next to you calls. "This way! Smile for us!" 

You follow the shouting and wait for the face connected to the name to smile. Sirius Black, front man of potentially the most famous indie band in Britain currently, poses without really posing. He's effortless. 

James Potter walks beside him. He seems more genuine, which isn't to say Sirius Black is fake, but James smiles at the photographers like he knows them. His gaze locks in on you for a second and you can't help the schoolgirl chills that race down your spine. He's breathtakingly handsome, brown skin glowing under the bright lights above, his hair glossy and curled as if each individual ringlet has been held and twisted in the hand of an angel. He's ridiculous in how pretty he is, truly.

Without thinking, you say something unlike yourself. Photographers are allowed to compliment the people they're shooting, but it feels clumsy on your tongue. "Hey, James," you call, not too loudly, almost hoping it'll get lost in the crowd, "smile for Getty, handsome." 

James doesn't hesitate to turn to you and smile. You take a photo, not your best, and drop your camera away from your eye. You give him your most genuine smile, hoping he thinks you're pretty (stupidly) while knowing you look ragged. 

"Thank you," you say. 

"You're welcome," James says, making a small hand gesture to Sirius. He approaches you, to the annoyance of the other photographers. "Hey, we've met before, haven't we?" 

"Yeah, we have, I take photos at all the events like this one. Where's Mr. Lupin?" 

"Mr. Lupin?" he asks, smiling. "Mr. Lupin's ill. He'll be alright." 

"It feels strange to call you by your first name, not knowing you." 

"You just called me James. And handsome, if I heard correctly." 

Your heart amps suddenly into racing speeds, as though only now realising that you're having a conversation with James Potter, and that he's grinning at you like you're friends, or better. "Sorry," you say. 

"So you take it back?" he asks, smile wavering. 

"Of course not, you're more than handsome, I– but I– I'm not trying to cat-call you." 

James' pretty smile moves back into place. He pushes his glasses back up the length of his strong nose with his marriage finger, and the blazer he wears bulges against his arm muscles from the movement. Your hands start to shake —you're a photographer, meant to take photos, not interview the talent. You have no idea what to say to him, worse, you've no idea why he's talking to you. 

"Are you cold?" he asks worriedly. 

"Wha– no, not really," you say. 

"Are you sure? You can have my jacket, shortcake, it's no trouble."

"It is trouble? You're about to be on TV," you say. 

James shoves his hands into his pockets. "I can sacrifice my TV appearances for the sake of a very cold looking, very pretty girl. It's selfish, really," he reassures you, "I like being complimented. I want you at the next event to do that again, not in hospital recovering from hypothermia." 

"James, can you stop flirting for five minutes?" Sirius asks. 

James nods at you apologetically and you take it for a farewell, catching up with his bandmate to ascend the stairs into the venue. The night moves forward slowly, taking photos of more celebrities, none as handsome and flirty. You're stopped short by a man in a tuxedo who looks like the servers from inside the show.

"Hi, this is for you," he says. 

You frown. "Are you sure?" 

"I was told to give it to the cold-looking photographer with a blue lanyard. You look cold." 

It's a hoodie. It's Marauders merchandise, a black hoodie in your size with a monogrammed drum set over the breast. You slip into it and worry it's a consolation present; maybe he'd thought you were a fan. 

It's not until you slip your icy fingers into the pockets and pull out a slip of paper you realise otherwise. 

Gorgeous, shivering photographer, 

Please ring me. I'm not above begging. I'd really like to see that photo. Love, James. 

P.S. I'm not kidding, (unless you don't really think I'm handsome and were extending some professional chivalry as Sirius thinks, then please ignore this) call me! :3 <3 

Your hands shake for the rest of the evening, despite the warmth of your new hoodie.

#james potter #james potter x reader #james potter x fem!reader #james potter x y/n #james potter x you #james potter fic #james potter fluff #james potter blurb #james potter drabble #james potter imagine #james potter fanfic #james potter fanfiction #james potter scenario #james potter oneshot #the marauders #marauders era #marauders #drummer james potter #rockstar!james #rockstar!james potter

[channelinglament]

I LOVED your SAHSR thoughts so please hear me out.

I actually doubt that HSR will understand what God means, like, they're in space and modern tech and with all the things they have encountered, I just feel that they have never understood "God" like in SAGAU. The only being that closer to a "divine being" being is aeon.

So my brainrot is, the player as aeon, who's just mindlessly flying across the Herta's Space Station that currently being invaded and taken interested in MC (who's literally stellaron) and favored them.

HSR characters are aware, that something powerful is actively watching and taking care of them. They are wary because aeons are areas they know very little about and have no control over.

But, who could resist the constant warmth and kindness of this peculiar aeon, plus, this aeon seems having no bad intention. Just some harmless mischief (scaring a cleaning service; those trash bing thingy; destroying property for some cash; etc)

Sorry if there any grammar mistakes. English is not my first language.

THIS ^

THIS IS AMAZING

TW:some religious themes, yandere

I agree, they indeed would think you're an aeon.

Some sort of highest of aeons.

AND THE MISCHIEF PART IS SO TRUE

They wouldn't understand why are you so different from all the aeons, but you don't cause trouble, and seem to actually care for them, make then stronger.. You really aren't that bad. And just like that, after their observation on you, their obsession began!

Considering what destruction everything else causes, you're the safest one, so some of them might even worship you. Admire you while being obssesses with divine aeon. Y-You even saved Belobog! And Herta's station.. They really should thank you, but how? Maybe offerings will do...?

Oh, some would be obsessive about you! Everything you do is absolute perfection! How could they not love you? Would keep a journal and take pictures/draw/paint you.

Some would be protective, you always look after them and their backs, so they are doing the same for you. "Just like in some romance book!" They say.

Others would be possessive (obv). They don't wanna share you with anyone. You're too special. They're the only ones who deserve you/ They may not deserve you but no one else is, so they'll try to isolate you. They want to keep you to themselves, you're to good for everyone and anyone else anyways.

Some are Manipulative and Cunning. This being paired with what I stated above is not a great idea. Thankfully, not everyone is like that.

Others are Clingy and Delusional. Would not recommend, as, if their delusion would shatter...the result would be..messy. you'll be alright tho. But everyone else won't.

Some would definitely share with each other and work together. Use their strong traits and cover the weak ones of others (and vice versa).

Running away? Kinda impossible, you're in space..

BUT

Hear me out, if in sagau we are sometimes ACTUALLY a God with gold blood

What if we are actually an aeon?

(We can talk and speculate about it more, I'm really interested about you're thoughts hehe. Everyone is so cool ><. Imagine being in both, SAHSR and SAGAU universe, both sides loving you, worshiping you and pursuing you. Oh it won't end well, and if it will, it won't be for you-)

#sahsr x reader #sahsr #SAHSR #self aware hsr #self aware honkai star rail #yandere hsr x reader #yandere hsr #hsr x reader #hsr #yandere honkai star rail x reader #yandere honkai star rail #honkai star rail #sagau #sahsr brainrot #kami rambles

[avatar-anna]

Aaaah i am so deep in my Harry feels and you write him so perfectly…

So i have a request !

Something i cannot get out of my mind are the lines from as it was “Answer the phone, "Harry, you're no good alone why are you sittin' at home on the floor?What kind of pills are you on?" … and maybe the reader just got home and she’s the one saying that to Harry? Idk …

Anyway i love how you write ❤️ stay golden !

Grief Fic, Part One

so, this turned into a really long fic that's full of angst (perhaps too much). part of me wanted to make it even longer, but i think i ended it at the right point where i could come back to it if people wanted me to.

Part Two

tw: mentions of death, depression, grieving

"Harry? You here?" you called, walking across the threshold of your friend's house. Looking down, you ruffled the hair of the little girl who came in with you. Her hands gripped the straps of her backpack as she skipped into the house, clearly not bothered by the band-aid on her knee or the cut beneath it.

She looked around and called out for her dad, who either didn't hear it or couldn't find it on him to respond. When the skip in her step faltered and a look of confusion and hurt began to creep onto her face, you helped her out of her backpack and said, "Why don't you go upstairs, kiddo? Change out of your uniform? We can decide what to do for dinner after. Your pick."

You hoped that the distraction of getting to pick what they ate for dinner tonight would be enough, but she still seemed rather subdued compared to how cheery she sounded as she talked about her day at school on the drive home. "Okay."

She scurried off to her room upstairs, leaving you alone in the big kitchen that hardly got used anymore. When the young girl was gone, you called out to Harry again, stepping further into the house. You eventually found him in his studio, but he wasn't working.

"Jesus, H. I can't leave you alone for five minutes," you muttered, picking the bottle of whiskey off the floor and screwing the cap back on before setting it on a high shelf where he wouldn't think to reach for it.

Harry himself was sitting on the carpeted floor of his studio, staring blankly at nothing in particular. This wouldn't be the first time you found him in a similar state, but each time you hoped it would be the last.

"Is Harper alright?" he asked.

"Yeah, she's upstairs," you said.

"Thank you for picking her up again today," he said, still not looking at you.

You sat down next to him, draping your arms over your knees as you crossed your legs together. "No problem. I knew you were supposed to be working today, which leads me to my next question. Why are you sitting in here alone? I thought today was a writing session?"

"Cancelled. Didn't feel up to it today."

Harry didn't feel up to much of anything these days. It was understandable, to an extent. You knew he was going through a lot, but it wasn't just him he had to look out for. Harper needed her dad, now more than ever.

"Was it...anything in particular?" you asked gently. Sometimes Harry got cagey when you asked him about his current situation. He would snap or get defensive or ignore you completely. You'd known him for so many years, but in the span of a few months, you had to relearn how to talk to him. "Yesterday you seemed excited to work."

Harry shrugged, which drew your attention to his narrow shoulders. He hasn't been eating, you thought. You quickly scanned his face, and looking past the obvious unkempt facial hair and dark circles, you noticed his features were more pronounced, eyes sunken in some. You thought he was doing better, you thought he was healing.

"Harry," you said when he didn't respond.

Ever so gently, you rested a hand on his arm. His skin was cold as ice, and pale. So unlike the warmth and sunny glow it used to carry. The person in front of you was a shell of the man he once was, and you didn't know how to bring him back.

"Do you know what kind of pills you're on? If they're not working, the doctor can prescribe something else," you said.

"It's not the pills," he murmured. "I just...I just don't know how to function without her."

So you're not taking them, you thought but didn't say. Instead, you gave Harry's hand a gentle squeeze. "I know."

"I don't want to function without her. I—I can't do anything else but exist, and even that's exhausting."

Harry's voice was heavy with emotion, his eyes downcast as he stared at the band around his finger.

You were aware of the dangerous waters he was wading into, and the pressure to keep him from drowning suddenly crushed your chest. You'd already said all the typical platitudes—it'll get better with time, she wouldn't want you to live like this, Harper needs you. Sometimes they were enough to get him out of the house or to sit down on the couch with Harper to watch a movie, but it would only last so long, and recently Harry's mood improvement would dwindle faster and faster. You did what you could to help by taking care of Harper and checking in on Harry everyday, but he was starting to scare you.

"Daddy?"

Your head whipped around to where Harper was standing by the door of the studio. At eight years old, she looked just like Harry with bright green eyes and dimpled cheeks and curly hair. But she looked like her mother too, and though it was nearly imperceptible, you saw the bob of Harry's Adam's apple when he looked at her.

"Hi sweetheart," he said, not standing up to go over to her.

Harper waited by the door, waiting for Harry to do more. To ask about her day or tell her about his or go over to her or something. But he didn't, like he was too exhausted to move.

"Can we—Can we go to the park? The sun is still out and I finished all my homework."

"Y/n can take you," Harry said.

"Or we can watch a movie? Or—"

"Harper, I think Dad is tired. Why don't we—"

"He's always tired!" Harper said suddenly. "He never wants to spend time with me or talk to me! Why are you acting like this!" She went over to Harry and began to shake his shoulders, her cheeks red and eyes imploring. "Wake up! Wake up!"

Harry didn't do anything at first, letting his daughter shake him and pound her fists against his chest. Your eyes welled with tears and your throat tightened as you watched, caught between pulling Harper off and letting her get her emotions out, half hoping it would stir something in her father. It didn't.

"I hate you! I want mom!" she finally said when Harry was still practically catatonic.

He said nothing, but you could see the tears in his eyes as she stormed off, flinching when he heard the door to her room slam two floors up. His shoulders shook of their own volition then, accompanied by tears and sobbing.

"She didn't mean it," you said, pulling him into your chest. Harry's grip was tight despite his lack of nourishment as he continued to cry, warm tears bleeding through your shirt. "She's dealing with this too."

"I don't know how to be what she needs," he sobbed. "I don't think I can."

Your heart broke for the two people you loved most in this world. You'd tried so hard to help Harry and Harper, to take care of her while he got back on his feet. But he hadn't, and now you felt like you were standing at a crossroads.

"I think it might be time to—" you stopped, getting choked up yourself, "to maybe go somewhere."

That got his attention enough to stop crying for a moment. "Go somewhere?"

"I've...looked into a couple places," you said gingerly. "Facilities. Where you can rest and get better and meet with grief counselors and groups. Get the help that you need, you know?"

When Harry's wife died, you obviously didn't expect him to bounce back right away, but you also didn't anticipate the state he was in now. Everyone grieved differently, you knew that, but his grief was all-consuming, slowly eating away at him and leaving him hollow. You did what you could to support him and Harper, but you had your own life, your own job, which was starting to become less and less understanding every time you left early to pick Harper up from school. You did it all happily and willingly because you loved both of them, but none of you could keep going like this.

"I'm not sick," he said. "I'm not an addict. I don't need to go to rehab."

"I love you, H, and I'm worried about you," you said. You put your hands on either side of his face so he had to look you directly in the eye. "Harper loves you, and she wants you to be her dad. You have so many people that love and care for you, Harry, and we all want you to be okay again."

"My wife died, Y/n. I'm never going to be okay again," he said, pulling away from you harshly, voice sharp. "How can you say that? You really think it's so easy? The mother of my child is gone, and she can never come back, and you what? You want me to just forget about her? Forget what we had? I bet you'd love that wouldn't you. That's probably why you've been so eager to 'help' Harper and me. Don't think for one second that you could ever replace her. So just go!"

It didn't matter that you knew this outburst was one of rage filled grief, but that didn't mean it hurt any less. You felt like you'd been slapped, like Harry had reached his hand into your chest and crushed your heart. That was never your intention. Harry was a friend, a dear one, but a friend just the same. And Harper was your goddaughter. You couldn't just sit by and let the two people you considered family fall apart.

But maybe you weren't who he needed.

"I know you think you'll never be okay again, but you will," you said quietly. "Because you love Harper, you will be. One day you'll stop resenting her for not being Sophia, and one day you'll stop resenting Sophia for leaving you. It'll always hurt, I know that, but one day it'll hurt a little less."

You stood up from the floor and smoothed your trousers, sniffling a little. Harry had gone back to staring blankly, but the tight clench of his jaw told you he was listening. "Bye, H."

You didn't leave right away. You made a phone call to his mom first, asking her to stay with Harry and Harper, not explaining why you couldn't be the one to check up on them anymore. Anne had asked you to keep an eye on the pair after she went back home after staying at Harry's place for a month. You'd already planned on doing so, but you agreed. Now the tough love needed to come from someone else. When Anne told you she was on her way, you went upstairs to Harper's room to check on her.

She was crying on her bed, her body curled into a ball around a stuffed animal. Sighing, you walked over to her and sat on the corner of her bed and soothed her back with your hand. "I know you didn't mean that, Harper Rose."

"Why is he acting like that?" she cried, not looking up at you. "Why won't he play with me anymore? Or take me to school?"

"He..." You didn't even know what to say to make this better. "Your dad is...sick."

"Like my mom was?" Harper asked. She sat up, her little face red from crying.

"Not—Not quite," you said, trying not to get choked up. Sophia had been a dear friend to you too. "His heart hurts so much that he can't, or doesn't know how to...function properly. Does that make sense?"

Harper nodded as she wiped a tear from her eye. "He's heartbroken."

"I think so."

She didn't say anything for a minute, as if she was processing that information about Harry. Then, "Does that mean I love my mom less if I'm not heartbroken like that?"

Her words made you pinch your arm to hold back your tears. It wasn't fair to Harper that she had to deal with all of this at a young age; she didn't deserve to have these thoughts or ask these questions, and selfishly, a part of you deep down felt you didn't deserve to answer them.

"No, of course not, kiddo. Your dad just—you and your dad loved her differently. And I think part of him is sad that you lost your mom and not just that he lost his wife."

"I don't understand," she said, her voice trembling. "When will he be normal again?"

"Do you think you'll feel normal again?" you asked her gently. Harper shrugged, more tears silently leaking out of the corners of her eyes. "People's hearts and minds react differently when someone dies. And right now, your dad's mind is telling him not to get out of bed or take care of himself or take care of you. It doesn't make sense to you or me, but it makes sense to him."

"Oh." Harper looked contemplative again, her eyes trained on the yellow patterned bedspread beneath her. Everything in her room was some shade of yellow—walls, curtains, lampshades, the sun behind the bedframe that Sophia painted—everything was made to feel warm and inviting. "What do we do now? How do we help him?"

"Well, what do you do when you're sick?"

"Go to a doctor."

"That's right," you said. "He's gonna go to the doctor, and the doctor will tell us what we should do. And in the meantime, you just keep loving your dad, okay? You're allowed to be angry and frustrated and sad, but never stop loving him. It might not look like it, but knowing you love him helps."

"Okay," Harper said.

"I called your grandma. She's gonna come stay with you for a little while while your dad gets better. She'll take you to school and pick you up and make you all sorts of treats with you."

"Why can't you take me to school?" she asked.

"I have to work," you explained. "But, if you need anything, you know my number. Just call me and I'll be there, okay? But you and Grandma will have fun, you always do."

You stayed in Harper's room until she fell asleep, smoothing her hair with your hand once more before standing up from the bed. You planned to stay until Anne arrived, but you figured you could tidy up and get the guest bedroom ready in the meantime. By the time she walked through the door, the guest room had been made up and the kitchen was squeaky clean. Harry never came out of his studio, or he went up to his room without you noticing but you were fine with that. You wouldn't have known what to say to him anyway.

You gave Anne the names of doctors and grief groups for Harry, and the name of a good child psychiatrist for Harper. You'd been meaning to set up a meeting for her, but you hadn't had the time, and it also wasn't really your place and you didn't want to overstep. Anne gave you a long hug before you left, thanking you for taking care of her family. Having someone hug you for once instead of the other way around was overwhelming, and you almost started crying right there in her arms.

But you held yourself together for a few more minutes as you pulled away. You promised to check in and help wherever and whenever you could, then you left, slightly relieved that Harry and Harper's well-being wasn't solely on your shoulders anymore and partly sad that you weren't able to help them more.

The first few weeks, you didn't come around the house as much, giving Harry his space. You met Harper at the park when your work schedule allowed it and had her over to your place for sleepovers when she asked.

Anne kept you in the loop, even when there wasn't much to report—Harper met regularly with a counselor and Harry didn't, Harper didn't wake up crying in the middle of the night as much and Harry still wasn't going back to work. Part of you felt like Harry needed more tough love than coddling at this point. You knew he wouldn't actually go to therapy unless you dragged him by the ear or eat something if you didn't sit with him until he was done. But it wasn't your place to dictate how he was helped, so you kept your mouth shut whenever Anne said he wasn't getting any better.

However, that all changed when Harry collapsed. He was so weak from not eating, he physically couldn't hold himself up. Or so Anne claimed. You didn't want to, but part of you thought there might have been some intention behind Harry's actions, or lack thereof. That was when you knew things had to change. If this were a movie, then that moment was the point of no return, and you weren't going to let Harry destroy himself anymore.

"If you get him in a car, I'll take care of the rest," you said to Anne the day after. She'd been apprehensive, but you insisted that this was the right choice. "He can't just sit alone on the floor of his studio all day. Either we do this now or his grief wins."

So it was settled. You didn't know how she did it, but Anne somehow got Harry up and in the passenger seat of your car. He clearly was not pleased by the whole thing, but with his lack of eating, he was no match for you or his mother.

"Where are we going?" he asked, arms folded angrily.

"My place."

"Why?"

"Because I'm not going to let Harper witness your path of self-destruction. You wanna die? You don't want to take care of yourself? Then you can do it at my place instead of in front of your daughter."

It was harsh, but Harry hadn't been particularly amicable these last few days. According to Anne, instead of catatonic, he was rude, his words sharp as a knife and just as cutting. His mother didn't deserve to deal with that, and neither did Harper, but you could handle him. Whether he liked it or not.

"Fuck you," he muttered.

"Fuck you," you replied simply.

Harry didn't say anything else the rest of the ride to your house, which was completely fine by you. You had a plan in place for Harry's stay, but you went over it again and again in your head, hoping it would work. You had Harry's meds, which he had not been taking, you picked out a grief group for him to attend, or one-on-one counseling if he didn't want to go to group therapy, you worked out a schedule that made sure Harry was constantly doing something rather than withering away on your couch. But first...

"You need a shower. I'm not living with you while you smell like that. And brush your teeth too."

"I thought you didn't care what I did," he said, begrudgingly following you into your house. It was much smaller than his, but that was for the better. It would be easier to keep an eye on him in close quarters.

"Don't be ridiculous, Harry. We all care about what happens to you," you said, leading him down the hall to your small guest room and bathroom were.

You gestured toward the bathroom when he set his small duffle bag on the bed, but he stayed where he was. "No."

"No?"

"You and my mum can drag me around and make me sleep in a different bed, but you can't force me to take medication, you can't force me to go to therapy, you can't force me to live," Harry spat. You took it on the chin, eyeing the way it seemed exhausting for him to just raise his voice at you. "I'm not a child, and I'm not one of your patients, so leave me the fuck alone."

"Lord, give me strength," you muttered to yourself before storming over to him.

You grabbed Harry by the collar of his sweatshirt and pulled him into the bathroom, where you promptly began to pull his layers off one by one.

"What the fuck?" Harry said, too surprised to fend you off, and too weak as well. "Get off of me!"

"You are a stubborn asshole," you spat, letting all the anger and frustration from the last few weeks seep into your voice. Once Harry was down to his underwear and socks, you quickly turned the shower on and pushed him in, holding your forearm against his chest as water sprayed both of you. "And selfish. You are a parent, Harry, you can't afford to fall apart, especially not in front of Harper. You can't do this to her. I won't let you."

Harry struggled against you, but not as much. He looked furious for having brought up Harper, though. But you kept going, needing to say everything that had been rattling around in your brain since he snapped at you.

"Sophia is gone, H," you said, voice gentle but firm.

"Shut up—"

"And it hurts. I can't imagine how much it hurts to lose your wife, but I—I know how it feels to lose a parent." Your voice began to waver, but you willed yourself to calm down. You didn't talk about it much, but you could relate to the situation at hand better than most. It was part of the reason why you helped Harry and Harper out so much. "Harper is strong and brave and charismatic. She's all the good things Soph was. Stop punishing her for it and celebrate it. She needs you, H. If you can't find it in yourself to get better for you, do it for your daughter. Don't do this to her."

Harry was crying by then, and you were too. Water sprayed the both of you, but he wasn't straining against you anymore. When it felt like he was starting to slide against the tiles to sit down, you didn't let him. "Don't do that," you said, using all your strength to hold him up. "Don't let it consume you. Lean on me if you have to, but don't—don't sit down."

To your surprise, he didn't. Harry let you give him a scrub down, starting with his hair and then sponging his body with soap. You left his briefs on for his sake. As a nurse, you were used to seeing every part of the body, but Harry was your friend, not a patient. When you were done, you left him to dry off with a towel and dress with the instruction to be in the kitchen for dinner in twenty minutes. You didn't have to say what you would do if he didn't come. Harry got a dose of how forceful you could be very quickly.

So he came out of his room, and the two of you ate in complete silence. You didn't mind the quiet and were content to let Harry figure out whatever was going on in his head. You did keep an eye on him, though, making sure he didn't push his food around and actually ate it. He did, thankfully; you really didn't want to have to spoon-feed him too.

"Tomorrow I set up a group therapy session in town. It's super confidential, so you don't have to worry about that, but—"

"No."

"No? Really? We're doing this again?" you asked, only half joking.

"I don't want to go to group therapy," he said, and you could practically taste his displeasure for it across the table.

"Well, I thought you might say that, so I also scheduled one-on-one counseling, though I thought you might prefer the group. Less opportunities to talk when there are multiple people in one session." You picked up and quickly washed your plate before setting it down on the drying rack. "Tomorrow's session is at ten. Let me know what you want to do before then, but you're going to one of them. Oh, and you're responsible for cleaning up after yourself. Night."

You left Harry to his own devices after that, deciding to get ready for bed. It was going to be a long few weeks, or however long to get your friend back up on his feet, and you were going to need all the peace of mind you could get.

Three weeks later, Harry was still irritable. You knew he resented you for making him do, well, anything, but he still did them. He went to his group therapy sessions and cleaned up after himself in the kitchen. He just didn't like talking to you. Or acknowledging you. Or looking at you. You were pretty sure all the anger he had about Sophia dying and having to take care of Harper alone was now directed at you. You didn't necessarily mind being his outlet if it meant he was getting out of the house, but it did get exhausting at times. And it made for a very awkward car ride.

"I...can't pick you up from group today," you said as you neared the building where Harry's group sessions were.

"What the hell am I supposed to do then?" he huffed, crossing his arms across his chest like a child.

You gripped the steering wheel tighter so as not to whack him repeatedly on the arm. "Are you really that much of a pampered celebrity that you can't use public transportation? Or your own two feet?"

"Well why the fuck are you signing me up for this shit if you can't take me. I don't even want to go to these stupid meetings."

In a split second, you pulled over and put the car in park. "Get out."

"What?"

"You heard me," you said, the frustration you'd been pushing down the last three weeks finally bubbling to the surface. You'd been patient, you'd done what you thought was right for Harry and his family, but you couldn't be his punching bag anymore. "I've been taking you to these meetings because I want to help you, because I want to help Harper, but you have...kicked and screamed like a child every step of the way, and I—I want you to be better. I want you to be able to handle your emotions in a healthy way, but I—" I give up, you wanted to say, but even you weren't that mean in the midst of your anger. "You're an adult, Harry. I can't force you to go to therapy, so don't. Get out. Do whatever the hell you want."

Harry looked at you for a moment, surprised by your outburst. His mouth was pressed into a hard line, his eyes roving around your face. Searching for what, you weren't sure. Maybe he didn't think you would ever actually kick him out. You gave him as good as he got when he snapped at you, but you never expressly kicked him out. You were pretty sure he was deciding if you were serious or not.

"Out!" you said when he still hadn't opened the door. Now you were going to be late to work.

"Fuck! Fine," he said, then he was opening the door and getting out of the car. It shut with a definitive slam, but you didn't wait around to see Harry glare at you as you rushed back onto the street.

Work sucked, which made your mood that much worse. You normally liked your job at the hospital. It was busy and made you feel like a zombie at the end of most shifts, but the work was rewarding, and you were good at it too. You ran the Labor and Delivery room like a tight ship, everything and everyone had a place. But tonight you were slammed, one issue after another for you to solve. Normally you could handle the stress, but your nerves had been frayed for weeks, and every minor inconvenience didn't feel so minor right now.

Nothing was going your way, patients' families were being bigger assholes than usual, and the charting system was being glitchy. Not to mention you were pulling a double shift, so it was safe to say you were tired out of your mind, irritated, and not as chipper as you normally were amongst the normal amount of stress.

"Y/n, have you taken your lunch yet?"

You looked up from the computer at the nurses' station where one of your coworkers was standing on the other side. "Look at this place, Miranda. When would I have the time?"

The Labor and Delivery wing of the hospital was full of patients, excited family members in the waiting room, OB interns, and nurses trying to maintain order. You could always expect a good number of people in this wing of the hospital, but today was more crowded than usual. In-laws that wanted to be in the delivery room were driving you crazy in a way that they normally didn't, and a surgical intern tried to talk down to you, which tried your practically non-existent patience. It was safe to say that your pink scrubs were very misleading about your disposition today.

Miranda narrowed her eyes at you. "It's thirty minutes."

"I can't. I have to get these charts updated because these idiots we call interns don't know how to—"

"Y/n?"

"God, tell me this is not happening," you muttered before looking up from the computer again. Harry was standing at the nurses' station next to Miranda, who was staring at him with wide eyes. "I can't do this with you right now."

"I know. I just wanted to—"

"I can take your bitching at home, but not here," you said, going back to your computer. Everything you'd felt this morning was still simmering in you, and you didn't want to make a scene at work.

"I just came to apologize," he said, his voice lacking the harsh edge it'd had since he'd been staying with you.

You shook your head and picked up a chart as you began to walk away. "Honestly? I don't have time for that, either, H."

Perhaps you shouldn't have been so flippant, but you were at work, for one. You got into a certain headspace to keep everything and everyone in order, and you couldn't compromise that on a hectic day like this, even if Harry had come to say he was sorry.

"But, Y/n, you still have to take your lunch!" Miranda said.

Stopping in your tracks, you turned back around. Your arms were crossed as you gave Miranda a look, but she just stared right back. She was always the one who looked after you while you looked after everyone else. Sighing, you walked back over to the nurses' station to hand over the chart on your hands. "Ten minutes."

"The law says thirty."

"Fifteen," you amended, then left before Miranda could argue with you. You heard footsteps behind you, and while you knew they were Harry's, you didn't do anything to stop him from following.

The break room was small, just big enough to hold a refrigerator, some cupboards, and a table with a few chairs. You didn't spend much time here, but it did see a lot of foot traffic despite its size.

Sitting down at the table, you rested your head in your hands, your eyes closing for a few seconds now that you let yourself have this short break. Your feet hurt and your head pounded, but you managed to stand up anyway and make yourself a cup of coffee.

"What are you doing here?" you asked, though you weren't really sure you cared. Not right now anyway.

"I wanted to apologize," he said right away, like he was afraid you weren't going to let him speak.

You laughed a little. "Oh? What for?"

You knew you were being difficult, but you couldn't help it. The way Harry treated you had all come to a head this morning, and the shit day at work didn't help your mood, either. Staring at him over the rim of your coffee mug, your heart softened the tiniest bit. He looked like a scolded puppy with his head tilted down and his hands behind his back. It was hard for you to balance the anger you felt for the way he treated you and acknowledge the fact that it was his grief that was making him act this way. There's no wrong way to grieve. It was something you knew and understood, but Harry's grief process didn't make your life any easier.

"I've been...horrible to you," he said, though he still wouldn't look at you. "I—I know you've been trying to help Harper and me, and all I've done was take everything I've felt out on you."

It was hard to find the right words to say. You didn't want to just excuse his behavior by saying he was grieving, but you knew he would never treat you the way he had been otherwise. But that didn't make it hurt any less.

"What made you come to this conclusion?" you decided to ask, curious to know the answer.

Harry smiled sheepishly and chuckled to himself in a way that was embarrassed more than amused. "Therapy. I went after you kicked me out this morning. Thanks for that, by the way."

You couldn't help but grin a little, at the very least because you hadn't seen Harry smile in months. "You're welcome."

"I'm really, really sorry, Y/n," he said once the air in the room sobered again. "I don't know if I could ever say it enough, or express how thankful I am to you for being there for Harper when I couldn't. I'm sorry for all the horrible things I've said and the way I've acted. I, um, I don't magically feel better, but for the first time since Soph died, I want to be."

You believed him when he said that. There was an air about Harry that seemed different than the last few months. And the fact that he was apologizing at all and seemed to have a small grasp of his feelings said a lot. And you wanted to believe him too, for the sake of his own health and happiness as well as Harper's.

"I know it was your grief that made you...act a certain way, but thank you for apologizing," you said.

"Things won't immediately go back to the way they were, I know that, but," Harry said, wiping the corner of his eye. "I wanted to take Harper out to dinner tomorrow night, and I'm hoping you'll join us."

"Not tonight?"

"No. I think I just want to go home and be with my daughter tonight," he said, sounding a little nervous and a little hopeful. "And I'm sure you're sick of me, so I thought I'd let you have a night to yourself."

You took a moment to look at your friend, really look at him. Harry's frame was still narrow, he was paler than usual, and the angles were still a little too sharp and pronounced, but his hair was neat and his eyes were clear, and he just looked different overall.

Standing up, you walked to where Harry was still standing by the entrance to the break room and threw your arms around him. A wave of emotion hit you the second his arms wrapped around you, and you couldn't help the sob that escaped your lips as you held him tight. He felt so frail, like he could blow away with the next breeze. It pained you to feel how everything affected him physically.

"You scared me," you said. Perhaps it was too soon to admit, but you needed to say what had been weighing on your heart since he collapsed. "You pissed me of and drove me insane, but above everything, I was terrified."

Terrified of losing him, terrified of not doing what was right by him or Harper, terrified that he'd never be the same. The fear of losing Harry to his grief kept you up most nights. More than the poisonous words or cold shoulders or childish behavior, you'd been so scared of every worst case scenario it nearly made you sick.

"I'm sorry I've put you through so much. You lost her too."

That made you squeeze Harry even harder. You'd known Sophia first and had been the one to introduce her to Harry. The three of you had been friends for a long time before Harry and Soph had even started dating, and you stayed friends long after. She wasn't your sister, but in a lot of ways she was family, and so were Harry and Harper.

Eventually you pulled away, wiping your eyes and stepping back from his embrace. You felt a little awkward, but lighter too, and hopeful for the future.

"So you'll come? To dinner?" Harry asked, his own eyes lined with tears.

Harry wasn't magically healed. He still had a long road ahead of him to be healthy again, not to mention mending his relationship with Harper. But you decided to believe that he was on the mend, that he was open to getting proper help and taking the right steps to manage his depression.

"It would be my pleasure."

#harry styles #harry styles angst #harry styles blurb #harry styles x reader #harry styles fanfic #harry styles oneshot #harry styles imagine #harry styles fanfiction #harry styles x you #harry styles fluff #harry styles writing #harry styles fic #harry styles one shot #hs angst

[funnylittlelad]

What's your favorite color? - steddie blurb

It comes as a shock, frankly. No, more like an affront. Maybe both. Either way, Steve finds himself wondering for the first time since they started dating if Eddie is lying to him. The whole conversation started over something stupid. Really, the whole conversation is stupid. Steve is the only one of them with a wrinkle between his brow and a twist on his lips. Eddie is looking at him all soft eyes and easy smiles. They're in their tiny kitchen. Steve has his arms crossed as he leans against the wall next to the landline. Eddie is bracing himself on the little table they got to use as an island for some desperately needed extra counter space.

"You're not being serious," Steve decides out loud.

Eddie laughs, only a little in disbelief. Mostly it's amusement at Steve's current childlike behavior. Eddie thinks he's endlessly cute and endearing when he gets like this. Especially because it's never about anything serious so Eddie never have to worry about it devolving into a real fight. It's just another flavor of conversation.

"I'm being serious!" Eddie insists.

"There's no way, Eds. I mean, have you seen your wardrobe?"

"Yeah, I see it on a pretty regular basis, believe it or not."

Steve levels him with an overly serious, analytical stare.

"Are you seriously telling me that you- Eddie Munson, metalhead extraordinaire- your favorite color isn't black?"

Steve's head shakes a bit in what Eddie would consider a bitchy move. That's okay, Eddie likes when Steve gets bitchy too. Hell, Eddie just likes Steve.

"It's not!" He laughs defensively.

"It's all you wear!"

"So, your favorite color is yellow," Eddie states matter-of-factly.

Steve squints, shaking his head a little more. Steve's hands can't stay still for too long while he's talking, no matter how hard he may try. Eddie has insisted he loves how expressive Steve can get. Even if Steve's parents didn't. Especially because they didn't. One hand breaks free of the opposite arm and begins to fly around as he speaks.

"Since when is my favorite color yellow?" he asks.

Eddie rolls his eyes, but his smile never leaves his face.

"It's all you wear!" he throws Steve's words back at him.

Steve pouts. He knows it's true. There has been a lot of yellow spotted in his wardrobe lately. That's just because he thinks he looks good in it... because Eddie told him once he looks good in it.

"Alright, fine, point taken. What is it then?"

Eddie's face softens. His smile becomes something warm and sweet like chocolate chip cookies fresh from the oven. He walks around the makeshift island to invade Steve's space. Steve isn't phased in the slightest. Eddie places a quick kiss to the tip of Steve's nose. The act earns him a smile that Steve works hard to fight off.

"Funnily enough, my favorite color is yellow," he answers easily.

Steve's face goes from bitch mode to genuine surprise. Then some confusion trickles in via his eyebrows.

"You're not fucking with me right now? Dustin isn't going to jump out with a camera to catch the dumb look on my face?" Steve questions, playfully looking over Eddie's shoulder like he actually expects Dustin to be there.

Eddie breaths a chuckle across Steve's face. For a moment there's nothing but the scent of mint and cigarettes.

"First of all, your face never looks dumb. No, I'm not fucking with you. My favorite color is yellow," Eddie insists.

"But... why? I mean yellow is so- and you're so- why?" Steve struggles to understand a world where Eddie Munson's favorite color is yellow.

A light blush blooms across Eddie's face.

"Because you wear it a lot and you look really fuckin' good when you do. Now whenever I see it, it makes me think of you," he admits softly.

Steve absolutely melts. How can he not? His arms end up around Eddie's neck as he presses a gentle kiss to his lips. Their foreheads rest against each other when they part.

"You're so cheesy, y'know that?" Steve chuckles lightly.

"Yeah, but you love it," Eddie grins.

"Yeah, I do."

After that, Steve realized that his favorite color is black.

Masterlist

#idk what made me think of this but once i did i needed it OUT of me #steddie brainrot #steddie blurb #steddie fic #steddie #steve harrington x eddie munson #steve harrington #eddie munson

[what-even-is-thiss]

Changing people's minds on major things is actually a very long and difficult process for both parties. I didn't actually believe that pedestrian-centric city design would be better for people that drive cars until I spent almost a year living without a car and watched hours of youtube videos explaining the issue to me. Turns out that traffic actually does go down and driving does become more pleasant if you make it harder to drive a car and easier to walk. I just straight-up refused to believe that for years. Because people just talked about it like it was obvious. But it wasn't. Because I had spent my whole life in a car-centric city going around in a car and also I was an English major in college who did not study urban planning. You can't expect me to change my entire mindset around transportation all at once. I did reach a eureka moment like two weeks ago but that was after like three years of getting exposed to these ideas periodically and living without a car for 11 months.

And yeah this post is about my big dumb animal brain accepting the science behind narrow roads and the evils of certain types of zoning laws, but it's also about stuff in general. If you don't know why someone isn't changing their mind on something, it's probably because the information they're getting hasn't reached a critical mass in their monkey brain yet. Whenever you hear stories about people changing their minds on things or leaving a certain ideology the story never goes "A person on the internet did a slam dunk on me and then I changed my mind."

It's usually a long process that happens over the course of months or years. Seeds planted here and there that coalesce eventually into a new thought or ideology over the course of years or snap together or send someone down a new path after a certain event. Same with me about pedestrian-centric cities. For me the tipping point was finding this video, which isn't necessarily super special or the best and the guy who runs the channel, in my opinion, isn't the most qualified or the most sympathetic towards every city in every situation, but it was the feather that tipped the scales in my brain to "Oh, wait. Maybe everything I thought I knew about how cities work is wrong actually." But that video alone didn't change my mind. With the amount of stuff and people that have gradually and gently been giving me information over the past couple years, something else was bound to eventually change my mind.

People on Tumblr yelling about abolishing the car, if anything, slowed down me changing my mind. Every time I saw a person saying that driving cars is stupid and that cars are bad I took a step back into my old way of thinking in defense. Because I grew up only ever using a car to get around. Rhetoric like that felt like a direct attack on my family, who I know to be loving people who care about other human beings and who drive cars literally everywhere.

And you might say, posts and videos like that aren't actually an attack on people that drive or have to drive. Okay then. Why are they phrased like that? Because that makes you feel good? Because you're angry? Alright, your anger at how it's currently impossible to get around if you don't own a car and how people who don't actually want to drive are being forced to drive is reasonable. And now I understand why it exists. I'm kind of angry too now that I get how this stuff works. However, is calling the people you're trying to convince stupid to their face and immediately bombarding them with your most radical ideas that might be completely detached from their reality and how they understand the world really the most productive way to channel your anger?

What about a guy with a knee problem that lives in rural Appalachia? Do you think he is gonna be convinced by your angry rants about bike lanes? No. He lives on a mountain that he can't climb or bike up because he's disabled and has only ever known getting around in a car. What about a person who overheats easily living in a suburb in the middle of the desert? Do you think she is inspired by your green lush pictures of trolleys running through parks in The Netherlands? No. If she leaves her house for too long without ice water she could literally die and you're going on about getting rid of, in her mind, the only thing that lets her go to the grocery store and not faint.

And again, this post is about my inability to comprehend walkable cities, but it's also about everything else you might ever want to convince someone of. The way you talk about things with your in-group that knows exactly what you're talking about should not be the same way you talk about that thing with people that you're genuinely trying to convince of something.

#roman said a thing #rant #ok to reblog

[bonny-kookoo]

Jungkook

Dearly Beloved 🔞 Final.

In which you've got a crush on your coworker- and a stalker problem.

Tags/Warnings: I do not condone any of Jungkooks questionable actions, this is fiction, soft Yandere!Jungkook, stalking, criminal actions (trespassing, stealing), obsession, he's really not quite right in the head, mc is kind of stupid for not involving police but wbk

Additional Chapter Warnings: insert 'oh no' tiktok meme here.

Length: long?

There is no taglist for this fic.

-> Masterlist

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He's gonna do it. He has to. What if he misses his chance? You already love him.

You just don't know it yet.

But the entire day at the office, someone steals your attention away. There's always someone standing at your desk, asking pointless things, chasing you around like a slave for things that could've been a fucking e-mail. Why do you need to go and copy something for Yaerin when she's got to working legs?

Maybe if she didn't wear those high heels she constantly trips in she would be able to do her job correctly. Or maybe she's simply a viper, trying to work you down until you burn out, unable to offer this place anymore of your energy. She's done it before. She'll do it again.

People like her disgust him. She's rotten to the core, especially considering how she constantly soils the office seats in the meeting room with her disgusting perfume every time she fucks another one of the higher ups in there. He knows it's happening, has walked in on her and a CEO once- and while he told her that her secret was safe with him, he really only did it to have something up his sleeve if he ever needed her for something.

Does that make him just as rotten as her? Maybe. But all is fair in love and war.

He can't help but fidget at this point, watching how you clearly try and stay nice to a coworker currently attempting to convince you to go drinking with everyone after this shift. You don't like karaoke, you don't even drink in social settings because it makes you anxious- Jungkook knows these things.

He would never ask something of you that you're not comfortable with- he'd take you out for your favorite fast food instead to eat it in the car while listening to crappy pop-songs on the radio. That's what you love.

You've mentioned it before. And he never forgets those things.

Who's that man to you anyways? He can sense the tenseness in your muscles as the guy leans on your table, clearly taking up space and showing that he's not going to leave anytime soon- and Jungkook feels his anger grow inside his chest. You don't like this guy. He needs to get him away from you.

"Uh- Steven, right?" Jungkook meekly asks, the man's face snapping to him with an annoyed smile.

"Yeah. What's up kook?" He jokes as if they're best buddies.

They're not. Jungkook couldn't care less if the guy died in a ditch.

"I think Yaerin wanted to talk to you about something being wrong with the calculations for last month?" Jungkook stammers, needing to uphold his image. And also, he can't help it- his emotions make him quiver a bit, muscles unable to stay still as he rubs his hands. "She said it's urgent." He presses.

That's actually only half a lie. It's not urgent- but that whore did want to talk to him about something. There probably won't be much talking involved except maybe a command to take his dick further down her throat- but Jungkook doesn't care what they do. The only thing he does care about is that he fucking leaves.

Which he does, finally, making Jungkook take in a deep breath as he watches the man walk off.

"Thank you so much." You say behind him, and when Jungkook turns around to look at you, you're gazing at him with such warm eyes he feels his trembling body levitate on nothing but thin air. Everything's alright again- if he could look at you like this for the next years of his life, he'd thank every god in existence for it. "I have.. a hard time telling people no." You sigh, running your hands over your face.

"That's.. that's fine." Jungkook nods, a little awkwardly, smiling back. "I'm not that.. good at it either." He chuckles, and you laugh along, already feeling a lot better.

"Do you.. uhm.." You look at your keyboard for a second before you lick your lips- is that new lipgloss you wear? Or did you eat something that stained them? Jungkook isn't sure, but he wants a taste. "Do you wanna.. grab a drink or two after work with me?" You wonder, rushing the sentence out, and Jungkook's lips part a little, eyes round and open as they stare you down with their boba-pearl charm.

"Uh- yes! Yes, sure!" He nods, closing his mouth, before he pats his pants, looking for his phone. "W-wait, I'll uh- I'll give you my number!" He rushes out, writing it down with trembling hands on a sticky note, before offering it to you, who smiles shyly.

"Alright!" You nod. "I'll.. see you tonight then?" You ask, and Jungkook nods, entire body set aflame.

"Tonight."

•━━━━━━━━━━•.♡.•━━━━━━━━━━━━•

He fucked up.

He fucked up.

He fucked up.

He's pacing in front of your door because you surely know. You had to have found out- there's no way you didn't. The moment you texted him, he knew you knew-

because he gave you the wrong number. In his panic, he gave you a number you already have.

Is the police on its way? Did you call the cops? Or another friend maybe to beat the shit out of him? You must be terrified, creeped out to no ends, and he can't blame you. What the hell did he even do? This isn't right.

"Jungkook?" You ask, ripping him out of whatever panicked episode he was going through, wild eyes staring at you who's looking at him with an unreadable expression.

It's quiet as you stare each other down, tension able to be cut with a knife for a good while, before you speak.

"You could've.. just said something." You mumble, and Jungkook isn't sure what you mean. There's a variety of things and situations this sentence could apply to- and he doesn't want to out himself if he's not caught yet. If there's just a simple chance of getting away with it, he will take it. "Do you... like me this much?" You ask, and he's swallowing thickly now.

You clearly want an answer, but he doesn't know in what context. What is he supposed to say.

"I mean, I knew something was off when.." you explain, playing with the strings of your hoodie as you fumble with your words. "When.. I wasn't scared." You admit.

"Because it was you all along."

His entire body grows cold, veins freezing over as he gets his confirmation. You know. You know, and you're probably going to tell him next that you've already asked for a restraining order-

Wait. What do you mean by you weren't scared?

"Do you want to.. come in with permission this time?" You ask, trying to lighten the mood, but he's confused. This isn't the reaction he thought he'd get.

"I-" he starts, stammers. "I'm sorry." He presses out. "I don't.. I just-" he fails to find appropriate words because he really doesn't know why he's like this. He knows it's a problem, he knows he's sick- it's obvious, that little sane part of him is aware of the pure wrongness of his actions up until now.

"I know." You say, nodding, before you step aside to let him inside.

"I can't." Jungkook denies. "I can't- I shouldn't, I'm not- don't let me in, don't ever let me in-" he worries, unsure what's wrong with him now. Is this what realization feels like?

If that's the case, he wants to go back to insanity, because this is torturous.

"Its fine." You reassure. "You're.. I'd really hate to see you leave right now." You deny, offering compassion. "You're not well right now." You say, and he agrees.

But he's never been well ever since he met you almost a year ago.

He'll never be well.

"You're too.. you shouldn't. I might hurt you." He explains in a hurry.

"You won't." You deny. You're not sure why you're so convinced about it- maybe because he's had the chance to hurt you so many times and didn't. Or maybe because you're so lonely that you'll take this love no matter how tainted it is.

"Please come inside." You ask once more.

And slowly, with great hesitance, does he enter your home, painfully wringing his hands as if to keep himself occupied.

"When my mom had a brain stroke, years ago, she changed a lot." You explain, walking in to fill up two glasses of water before you set them on the coffee table in the living room area, sitting down on the couch right after- inviting him.

He takes the invitation. His eyes sting with unshed tears.

"She suddenly hated me. Hated almost everyone." You remember. "The doctors said that it can happen. That if we.. injure just a tiny little specific part of our brains, our whole personality changes." You retell, and Jungkook listens, unsure where to look now.

He's been here before, but he's never seen the apartment with the lights on.

"But we still got along until she passed." You nod. "She went to therapy, and reconnected with me and her old friends." You say.

"I'm.. I think I know what you're suggesting-" he says, before he puts his face in his hands. "But I don't want to." He denies.

"Why not?" You worry with a soft tone. "Jungkook, you're not a bad person. You just need help." You offer.

"But what if my love for you is just mental illness?!" He yells out, panicked, eyes now leaking tears. "I don't want them to kill that. I want to stay- I want to stay sick if it means that I still love you.." he weeps, looking at you with desperation.

"Then we'll rebuild it." You shrug easily. "I'll make you love me again." You say, and Jungkook breaks.

"C-can I touch you?" He whimpers from the other side of the couch. "Just a bit?" He wonders, and you nod, opening your arms.

Welcoming him, because he's not a threat or a danger or a monster.

He's just a little sick.

#bts imagine #bts fanfic #bts fic #jungkook imagine #jeon jungkook x reader #jeon jungkook imagine #bts jungkook imagine #yandere jungkook #jeon jungkook imagines #jungkook fanfic #jeon jungkook fanfic

[shankss-magnificent-ass]

Imagine becoming a part of the red hair pirate's disembarking procedure

Part 2 of this post (it's free to view on Patreon, you just need an account I think)

Benn: *talking to the whole crew* Alright, we're going onto an island we've never been on before, and one we're not sure if anyone has ever landed here. We have protocol for this, and it's paramount that you follow it to a T.

Shanks: *whispers* oh shit, you know he's serious when he breaks out the big words.

Yassop: *snickers*

Benn: I'm going to give you a refresher on the rules.... We use the buddy system, no one gets to shit without their buddy.

You: Just what I always wanted, a poop buddy.

Shanks: *puts his arm around your shoulders* the only time our synchronized bowel movements are a blessing.

You: *rolls your eyes* at least we won't have to fight over who gets to use the bathrooms first.

Shanks: now I get what I have always dreamed of, to hold your hand and look deep into your eyes while we poop.

You: *shudders in horror* You're so weird.

Shanks: *plants a wet kiss on your cheek*

Benn: Now would those of you assigned to the exploration party please line up at the gangway for departure.

You: *goes to help Hongo prep a med pack for the exploration crew*

Hongo: *once the kit is finished* They're going to want you to take it to them.

You: Uh, okay? *takes it out to see them waiting patiently in line for them.

Benn: Excellent *takes the med kit and straps it to his pack* Now time for our kiss goodbye. *Bends down, so his forehead is level with your face*

You: Really?

Benn: yes, now hop to it.

You: *rolls your eyes, but gives each of them a forehead kiss*

The next island

You: *Currently too sick and infectious for Hongo to allow the crew in the med bay to get their kisses goodbye*

The exploration team: *has a horrible time on the island*

After getting back to the ship and getting the hell off that island

Benn: we barely got out of there, Hongo, you really need to get them back on their feet before the next island.

Hongo: *patching up Benn's shoulder* who are you talking about?

Shanks: My partner, obviously, we have the worst luck without them around.

Hongo: I'm sorry my skills aren't enough for you

Shanks: It's not that you aren't enough, because I have absolute faith in your skills. It's just I always feel bad, like I'm wasting your time, when I have to come to you for treatment every single time we step off the ship. Also being hurt sucks, if we can prevent it before that happens that'd be way better for everyone. I mean wouldn't you rather be conducting that research you've been working on for years?

Hongo: ....fair point, I'll have them up and at 'em as soon as possible. I'll also come up with some protocol to get y'all access even while they're sick.

Benn: how are you gonna manage that?

Hongo: *shrugs*I'll probably just stick 'em in a hazmat suit or something.

In the Port at the next island

You: *finally feeling better*

Hongo: I'm going to go refill my herb stores, I'll be back before dusk. *kisses you on the forehead, and presents his to you*

You: do I have to? I'm still sure this is how I got sick in the first place.

Hongo: *pulls out a pack of disposable alcohol pads, disinfects his forehead, and presents it again*

You: *sighs, but gives him a peck anyway* Buy more disinfectant while you're out, since y'all have convinced yourselves that I'm magic.

Hongo: *nods and walks down the gangplank to the dock*

Benn: We haven't decided you're magic, you know.

You: Oh really? Because you act like the world will crush you if you leave without me pressing my lips to your forehead.

Benn: It's not like that, it *growls in frustration*... we've noticed a pattern and most of us would rather not risk breaking that pattern. Okay, so suck it up and pucker up *pointing at his forehead and giving you his serious face*

You: *slaps one of the alcohol pads at his face.* Clean your oily forehead of yours first, I ain't gonna kiss it when it's clammy and gross.

Yassop: *laughs* you might need to give him two, since he's got such a big ass head.

Benn: *scoffs* Your forehead is bigger than mine, and where are you going?

Yassop: Deviating from the pattern, later. * steps off the gang plank and falls through the first dock plank he steps on, hitting his balls on the support beam, and gets slapped in the face by the other end of the plank before falling into the ocean*

The Crew present: *groan in sympathy as they protectively cup their own genitals*

Benn: dumbass

You: he doesn't learn, does he?

Shanks: Not quickly, he'll need to hurt himself a few times before it clicks.

You: ....we should make bets

Benn: two thousand on him falling down a flight of stairs next.

Shanks: You're on.

You: that's awful... and wrong, he's gonna get attacked by something in the water, and I'll bet ten thousand on it.

Coming Soon

#one piece #one piece x reader #one piece scenario #one piece imagine #shanks x reader #red haired shanks #akagami no shanks #red hair shanks #benn beckman #yassop #hongo #hongou one piece #one piece hongo #red hair pirates #from the depths of the dragon's hoard #tma original #4/28/23 #no beta we die like men

[uglyducklingofthe2000s]

Cuddly (Mouse series) - Max Verstappen

Summary: Max doesn't always voice his distress in normal ways. Y/n might seek out comfort in her boyfriend 100% of the time, but on the occasions Max begins to latch onto her, it's for specific reasons that make her worry

Warnings: This does discuss the issues currently happening between Christian Horner and the employee who reported him (nothing that specific since I won't write about anything I don't know is fact), I want to emphasise this is purely fictional and primarily focused on Max and Mouse but I wanted to warn readers the current situation is sort of referred to.

The questions were expected all surrounding the Red Bull team principal and Max had handled them as if he was the king of PR training, which is in fact one of the worst. But he knows it.

Y/n had been going about the first race weekend of the year, almost relieved that they weren't finishing the year with any attention on her. Usually Max's fans have grown to almost obsess over her. But this year so much had happened in the break and even just in testing. It was all just a lot.

From the Red Bull supposed rocket ship, Lewis' Mercedes departure to Christian's allegations.

It was all hot water and Max was finding himself stuck as part of it.

Y/n had initially really admired the way he was just not letting it effect him, but suddenly she found herself not being allowed to hide away in corners and keep away from others. He's holding her tightly in a hug whenever he can and GP is even noticing his suddenly consistent need to hold onto her.

At the moment he's got her held with her back to his chest as he talks with GP and Rupert who have quickly adapted to her more obvious presence.

Of course Max's hands move around a bit as he "maxplains" some things that he wants to address or feels is right about the car.

"Go find a spot, mouse." Max eventually sighs when GP says he needs to get in the car for FP1.

Y/n tries not to get flustered when he places a kiss on her neck before finally allowing her to rush off. Unbeknownst to her, he can't stop the smile seeing her huddle herself up at the side in the corner.

She's wearing her Red Bull jacket as usual and has her notebook at the ready for her own extra notes.

-

As soon as Max is out the car, he gets his helmet and balaclava he looks at y/n with a look that makes her stand immediately and move to him.

He doesn't really say anything to her, instead she moves over allowing herself to slide her arms around his slightly damp fireproofs that are just a little sweaty.

The same thing sort of repeats for FP2, it's only when they're in his drivers room y/n finds the courage to finally ask the question that's been playing on her mind with his constant need for her to be seemingly pressed against him.

"Are you ok?" Y/n asks as Max inspects her notes from FP2 now that he's in some clean clothes.

"Do I not see alright?" Max questions with a small smile as he moves closer to her. "Why are you asking?"

"Just...you've never wanted me so close." Y/n admits with a shrug.

"I feel better when you're with me."

Y/n tries to hide her smile but he's already cupped her face and she's forced to watch him grin at her.

"You don't need to worry about me, Mouse." Max states but really that tugs at something in her gut that makes her realise there's something she needs to worry about with him, if only because he's clearly worrying about something.

"I'll always worry about you." She whispers as he tips her head up and leans in kissing her softly.

"I'm ready to go." Max smiles earning a small nod before she looks at him for a moment.

Max is often the first one out the paddock, but even this speed and eagerness to leave is impressive. Clearly he debriefed whatever he needed to in the garage with his team while she was stood with him.

They leave and y/n does notice Max only really half-wave to most of the team looking like he almost just doesn't want the interactions.

Maybe it's not that there's something wrong. Maybe he just spent so much time with her over the winter break that her shyness is rubbing off on him? No. No. That's ridiculous. He talks far too much for that to be the case.

Once they're back at the hotel, Max proves that actually it's not just in the presence of others but he showers with her and finds any reason to not have to leave her side.

"Mouse, I can hear you thinking too hard." Max comments as he turns off the hairdryer from having helped to dry her hair. "You're frowning."

She feels her brows immediately lift as if to appear that she wasn't frowning the whole time.

"What is it?" Max asks softly making her look at him in the reflection.

"Is it all the stuff about Christian?" Y/n murmurs almost so quiet and blurring her words together so much that Max hardly pieces the question together but he just manages, mainly using Christian's name a means to figure out the rest.

"What do you mean?"

"You've just wanted me by your side since it all kicked off again. Is that why?"

"Christian wouldn't hurt you." Max states suddenly and y/n blinks in shock since she wasn't thinking that Christian would hurt her but it must be something that's lingering in Max's mind for him to say it. "It just reminded me that not everyone would...treat you like I do and I want to be able to protect you from that, mouse."

Y/n is sort of too stunned to speak and now she's got Max started...

"Having you close with me, I know you're safe and I can help you feel safe. You're not really the biggest fan of being here, mouse. I know you hate all the people and the crowds. And I know I help you feel better, even if it makes me sounds cocky."

Y/n softens a little, not even having realised her body had tensed up.

"I love you so much. I just want to protect you."

"Do I make you feel safe?" Y/n questions as she stands up and moves around to him.

"Mouse, you make me feel safer than I've ever felt before in my life." Max states trying to lighten the mood with some exaggeration and a big hand gesture but he softens quick when she smiles at him. "You didn't say you love me back."

"I didn't think it needed to be said." Y/n teases before suddenly being scooped up with Max lifting her legs to wrap up around her waist. "Of course I love you too, Maxie."

"Good." Max smiles then grunting as he drops back on the bed, careful of her legs.

The two end up tangled up in each other for a cuddle, y/n lying her head on Max's chest as they watch some tv, her fingers tapping on his arm in time with his heartbeat. some might find it annoying and Max thinks that y/n might not even realise she's doing it when she does it, but it's almost soothing. Her finger just softly tapping his inner forearm from where her hand is resting.

He's playing with her hair, giving her a slightly head massage that is certainly working to send her to sleeping. The feeling of her finger tapping tripping over a beat as her body grows heavier till it finally slows and he can just hear her steady breaths.

"Night mouse."

-

"Mouse, come on." Max instructs holding out his hand which she stares at for a beat in shock.

He's never tried to take her out onto the grid and it's certainly not what she was hoping for when race day was finally upon them.

"Max..." Y/n mumbles nervously while allowing him to guide her out onto the grid.

She does silence herself once they're surrounded by people, especially when Max gets caught for the grid walk by Martin and as soon as she sees the camera she tries to entirely hide herself behind Max's frame feeling him seem to sense her shrinking figure and squeeze her hand as he politely engages with the former F1 driver.

Thankfully Martin spots another driver and Max takes her over to his car, kissing her quickly before promising to be back as soon as the anthem is over.

"This is new. I'm not used to you out here." GP comments, expecting not verbal response and only getting a shrug which is enough for him to understand y/n doesn't know why she's here either. "I think I know why."

Y/n gives GP a look that communicates she knows why and suspects it might be the same reason before they exchange a nod as the anthem starts.

It's a couple minutes before Max is back giving y/n some final kisses before he actually puts on his helmet and balaclava while giving y/n the thumbs up and ok to go ahead with getting out of there. Which he's somewhat surprised when she hugs him tightly before moving quickly almost before he can return the gesture.

"She really is like a mouse." GP comments as he watches her manage to move faster than anyone ever thought the grid and into the garage.

Max is already itching to get this race done as quick as possible so he can be back by her side, it's really too bad that she can't just sit on a side pod or on the halo.

Maybe to the surprise of no one Max wins by a margin and he makes sure to celebrate and of course find y/n in the crowd at the front of his team. The mechanics seem to have been protecting her from being crushed in front of them.

He keeps his gaze trained on her once he's up on the podium and once he's down from the it, he gets himself into a clean and dry racing suit. Manages to sneak some kisses from y/n before asking her to stay in his drivers room.

They're in no rush for leaving since they're travelling over to Saudi Arabia for the next race weekend, otherwise if they were heading back to Monaco, he'd have them on a flight as soon as the debrief was done.

"I won't be too long, mouse." Max smiles, really just wanting her to stay there before she's looking unusually tired and dodging her way around the chaos of the paddock in a post-race setting is definitely going to drain her of the last of her energy reserves she's got. "You can have a nap, I'll come get you after the debrief."

Y/n smiles tiredly at him, getting enough time for her to hug him for a minute which he doesn't want to let go of. He knows that she's aware of his extra protectiveness being a matter of more than just loving her. Although he likes to think that's the main motive.

He just hates the stories going around, lies are being made up by anyone associated and he doesn't want y/n dragged into anything. Especially nothing to do with the nightmare that is Christian Horner right now. Max is trying his best to disassociate from it and just focus on himself, the team and y/n.

Y/n does end up falling asleep in his driver's room and then she ends up being carried out the paddock proving to be in a very deep sleep. Clearly it was very needed.

And when they get back to the hotel again, Max wastes no time having the quickest shower of his life and drying off, admittedly not using the hairdryer in fear of waking y/n up before climbing in bed and just cuddling her tightly to himself.

Taglist: @namgification @hiireadstuff @jsjcue @geniusalpaca @itsjustkhaos @llando4norris

#f1 #fanfic #formula 1 #max verstappen imagine #max verstappen #max verstappen fic #max verstappen f1 #max verstappen fanfic #max verstappen x reader #max verstappen x you #max verstappen fluff #f1 2024 #max verstappen x y/n #max verstappen series #mv1 fluff #mv1 x reader #mv1 imagine #mv1 fic #mv1 x y/n #mv1 x you #red bull f1 #red bull racing #oracle red bull racing #mv1 fanfic #mv33 x y/n #mv33 #mv33 x reader #mv33 imagine #mv33 fic #mv33 x you

[harunayuuka2060]

Ace: *pouting* Sensei!

MC: *smiling* Yes, Mr. Trappola?

Ace: You have the most interesting history and you don't even want to tell us!

MC: Ara~ But history bores you, doesn't it?

Ace: No! I really like history! Yes! I love it!

The first-years: Yeah! We love history, sensei!

MC: *chuckles* Professor Trein will be happy to hear that.

MC: Anyway, since all of you are eager to know about my history... Hm... Let's see. Ah!

MC: You can do an investigation.

Ace: Eh? Investigation?

MC: Yes! You've learned a lot of skills and I'm sure that your investigating skills are much better now compared last time.

Epel: But sensei... How are we going to investigate? What materials will we be using?

MC: *smiles mischievously* Ah... Now that's the problem, isn't it?

Ace and Epel: ...

Sebek: *yells* LET'S INTERVIEW SENSEI'S MOTHER!!!!

The first-years: *cheered* Good one, Sebek!

MC: My mom always stays at home. But be sure to behave there, okay?

Jack: Uh... So it's not a problem to you, sensei?

Deuce: Why would it be a problem, Jack?

Jack: I don't know... I feel like Sensei's doing this on purpose.

Professor Trein: Professor MC has already informed me about your home visit to their house.

Professor Trein: I trust that all of you won't cause any trouble because if I receive any reports of mischief, I will make sure to give you appropriate punishments.

Ace: Don't worry, professor! MC-sensei taught us how to be efficient. *grinning*

Jack: Yes. But you haven't applied that to yourself yet.

Epel: *chuckles*

Sebek: We should have a plan and not waste the one week given to us!

Deuce: I agree with Sebek. It's MC-sensei's history we're talking about here, but we don't want it to be vague.

Professor Trein: Just focus on their current life. As for their origins, the different lives they had, it is my duty as a professor to research on that.

Professor Trein: And I will be waiting for the results you will gain from this investigation.

The first-years: Aye, Professor Trein!

Professor Crewel: No. I'm not allowing it.

Professor Crewel: The freshmen will be off-campus and now you want to tag along?

Kalim: They're going to have lots of fun! *whining*

Jamil: I wish to know more about MC-sensei myself...

Riddle: Ace and Deuce needs to be supervised. I don't want them embarrassing themselves in front of Professor MC's mother.

Azul: I'm sure MC-sensei's mom isn't like your mom.

Riddle: *frowns* What did you say?

Professor Crewel: I don't care about your own reasons. You will be all staying here—

MC: *knocks on the door* Sir, may I interrupt your class? I have an announcement to make.

Professor Crewel: Of course, Professor MC. All of you, puppies. Listen to what Professor MC will say!

MC: *smiles*

MC: As you all know, the freshmen will be doing their investigation and I've made a bet with them. If they are able to make a theory about my existence, Professor Trein and the others would have to give them an A-grade mark. However, if they fail... *chuckles*

MC: The sophomores will enter a strict training.

The sophomores: ...

Professor Crewel: Ah. What a nice idea to train the pups.

MC: Indeed, Sir. Hehe~.

Ruggie: Uh, sensei? Is there a reason why you're making this bet?

MC: Nothing in particular. I just feel that I'm being negligent with the sophomores.

The sophomores: ...

The sophomores: Oh shit—

MC's mom: I'm sorry. Our house is too small and I can't accommodate all of you.

Deuce: It's alright, ma'am! The weather is nice here and we can camp outside!

Ace: Yeah! This sure is a nice place!

Sebek: Let's not waste our time with idle chats!

Sebek: Ma'am! Please tell us something about MC-sensei!

Epel: Sebek... Couldn't you ask more politely...

Jack: We've just got here.

MC's mom: ...

MC's mom: Well... I think I might've something that will interest you.

The first-years: What is it, Ma'am? Please tell us!

MC's mom: *smiles* MC was a stillborn.

The first-years: Eh? EHHHH?!!

Sebek: S-Stillborn?!

Ace: But how?!

Deuce: *crossing out the theory of reincarnation on his note*

Jack: Ma'am, you have to explain that to us.

MC: I wonder how the first-years are doing. *chuckles*

Leona: They're probably screaming right now.

MC: Hehe~. By the way, Mr. Kingscholar, you sure are laid-back.

Leona: I'm preserving my energy just in case your dear freshmen lose the bet.

MC: Have faith in them. The task isn't that difficult after all. *chuckles*

Leona: Like I will believe you on that, sensei.

#twisted wonderland #twst mc #twst ace #twst deuce #twst epel #twst jack #twst sebek #twst riddle #twst azul #twst kalim #twst jamil #twst ruggie #twst crewel #twst trein #twst leona #twst professor mc

[sunlightmurdock]

Ok rooster & mav's daughter...maybe they're just hooking up currently but she's been in the trenches with her feelings for him for yearsss and then he gets hurt or something during training & she's a mess and mav says he's going to be ok but she's so torn up and it forces them to DTR right in front of mav who is confused beyond belief & not angry yet because of the shock

Omg omg yes!! So I’m just imagining a scenario in which Bradley’s in the hospital after a big accident and Maverick has been sat in the waiting area for like eighteen hours straight, waiting for Bradley to be allowed visitors after an emergency surgery

And you’re there sat beside Maverick feeling sick to your stomach because you straight up just almost lost the love of your life and can’t say anything about it, and it’s been absolutely eating you up inside, to the point that you just can’t hold it in anymore.

So finally you let out a really big breath and put your head in your hands and say, “Dad, I need to talk to you about something.”

But maverick is too busy staring at the door to Bradley’s room and gnawing at his nails to notice. So, you try again, just a little louder.

“Dad. I need to talk to you about something important.”

Maverick’s brows crease together as he cranes his neck to watch the doctors speaking together in Bradley’s hospital room. Your heart feels like it’s in your throat and you feel like you’re going to explode if you don’t get this off of your chest.

“Mav. I need to tell you something important, right now.” But it’s too late, because a doctor just left Bradley’s room and Maverick leaps to his feet as they start to walk over to the two of you.

The doctor smiles politely.

“He’s awake, he’s doing well, but he’s very tired from the medication,” And then he turns his attention towards you, smiling sincerely as he nods in your direction. “He’s asking for you.”

And your eyes just go wide. Maverick’s head whips around, looking swiftly between you and the doctor.

“For — For her? — For you? Why would he be asking for you?” Maverick stumbles, the colour draining from his face. He starts speaking faster and faster and you just know that he’s on the verge of losing it.

You’re stuck, holding your breath for a second as you try to figure out how to approach this topic. Unfortunately, you handle stressful conversations about as well as Maverick does, and you pick the ‘rip it off like a band-aid’ approach.

Taking a big, deep breath, you pause for just a second before letting it all go. “I’ve-been-sleeping-with-Rooster-for-a-year-and-a-half. Sorry, dad.”

Maverick is never rendered speechless for long. There’s a split second where he’s shocked into silence, just staring at you, and you use that to your full advantage. He’s left behind as you duck around him and rush for Bradley’s room. He stares back at the doctor in front of them, both dumbfounded by what you just said.

You slow down as you walk into Bradley’s room, sucking in a sharp breath as your hands fly up to cover your mouth.

He smiles weakly, his face battered, bruised and cut up. His hands, his knuckles, his arms. You know he must be in so much pain under all of that morphine. He swallows, “Hey, baby.”

“Rooster, you big dumb idiot.” You whimper, rushing for him and crawling into the bed beside him. He groans softly and you remind yourself to be gentle. You’ve never had to be gentle with him before. “Oh my god, look at you.”

“I’ll be alright.” He tells you, his eyelids heavy from all of the medication that he’s on.

Blinking back tears, you swallow thickly. “I thought I was going to lose you.”

Bradley’s brows knit together as much as they can without causing pain, he gives a small shake of his head and lifts his hand as much as he can with the broken ribs. You lean closer so that he can hold your cheek in his palm.

“I thought about you. The last thing I remember thinking is that I just couldn’t do this to you.” He admits quietly. You can hear a small tremble in his always strong voice. You look up at him, eyes brimming with tears. Faintly, you can hear Maverick being told to calm down in the hallway. Bradley’s drugged up enough to not have noticed yet.

You lift your hand to touch him and pull it swiftly back to your chest. You’re not sure what you can touch anymore, what won’t hurt.

“I love you.” Bradley mumbles. He takes a big breath, the first one he has been able to take since the accident that isn’t painful. Modern medicine is incredible. His hand drops from your cheek and wraps around yours. You take his hand in both of yours and bring it up to your lips, gently kissing his knuckles.

“You’re just loopy. It’s okay.” You whisper, hoping that really he isn’t. He closes his eyes and gives a tired shake of his head.

“I feel so fucking tired,” He mumbles. He gives your hand a small squeeze. “Promise you won’t leave.”

Your eyes widen as you hear the door push open behind you. Maverick stands in the doorway, his eyes widening as he takes in the sight of you two so close together. He’s still processing.

Slowly, you turn your attention back to Bradley and lift one of your hands to gently smooth his hair back. He leans into your touch.

“I’m not going anywhere, I promise.” You kiss his knuckles softly once more and Bradley hums happily.

“I’m not loopy. I do…” He stops and inhales tiredly, not quite a yawn. He’s beyond exhausted, he doesn’t even notice Maverick’s presence. “I do love you. I have. I did — before this.”

Blinking back tears, you rest your cheek against his hand once more. You lower your voice to a whisper, so that this moment is just for the two of you. “I love you too.”

He’s back to sleep quickly. You stroke softly at his hair, keeping your fingers entwined wit his as you shift delicately to turn around to look at your furious father.

“Not now, Mav.” You breathe out, quiet.

Maverick shakes his head. “No. You’re right. Not now. But we’re going to talk about this. We’re going to have a big conversation about this.”

He walks slowly into the room and settles into the chair beside Bradley’s bed. His hands curl into fists, you watch him prop his chin on one and turn back to check on Bradley.

“He’s lucky he’s already in the hospital.” Maverick mutters bitterly.

“Dad.” You warn, turning quickly and shooting him a swift glare. He sits back and folds his arms over his chest.

#bradley bradshaw #bradley rooster bradshaw #miles teller #bradley bradshaw smut #rooster x you #rooster bradshaw imagine #thots night (:

[lokisprettygirl]

Under his influence (Post Avengers! Loki x female reader)

Read chapter 2 here //��Series Masterlist

Chapter 3

Summary : You obsess over the cuddle you shared with loki then you both share a joint together.

Warning: Smoking, recreational drug use, heat, so much of heat, bodyshaming comments, Loki being a soft baby, reader is insecure about her body, reader's mom is critical about her whole life, CUDDLING

Note : Song I used in this chapter. Now I know it was released in 2019 buttt I am going to use it anyways and you guys are going to ignore it the way we are ignoring TVA's existence. It also poetic in a way because time may or may not be linear in this fic 👀 Listen to the song first if you haven't, it's bomb, it's my go to whenever I'm drunk.

"Sooooo what does it mean if a guy cuddles you but you're not in a relationship or ummm dating or uhhh anything really" you asked your coworker Lyla. She was one of the trainers at the gym you were working at currently.

"Why are you asking? Are you cuddling with someone?" She asked you excitedly and you gave her a smile.

"Me? Cuddling? A guy? No no..noo no. Just a friend.. asking for a friend who's doing the cuddling..the cuddler is doing her i mean..you know what I want to say" She gave you a weird look as you said that.

"Yeah I figured..I mean aren't you allergic to men?" She rolled her eyes

"I'm…not allergic to men alright" you raised your voice so a few clients looked at you, the guy who had asked you out four times already did as well so you lowered your voice down a little "I love men..love themm like my own brothers and fathers and I hate the men hating we see these days" she gave you a questioning look as you said that. "Yeahh alright alright..just tell me what it means" you crossed your arms.

"What means what?" Attention span of a frog

"Man. cuddling... Friend?"

"Ohh yeah, tell your friend that this guy might be into her. I mean men usually don't initiate that sort of intimacy unless they're really into someone especially if it comes even before the sex does" she told you.

"Oh definitely no sex" you chuckled "That's what she told me"

You woke up this morning and you were squished against his body, completely squished all into him. Somehow you managed to get out of his hold without waking him up, though you did manage to fall down on your ass. What were you thinking rolling away from the bed that's the size of a toddler's cot?

He was a deep sleeper though and you just wanted to leave the apartment before he'd wake up but of course you bumped into him as you came out of the bathroom. He just smiled his usual angelic smile and wished you a good day at work as if you two didn't spend the night all squished together.

"How's the diet going? You seem even more chubbier today" you snapped out of your thoughts as you heard Lyla. She was an YouTube fitness model so she always stayed in shape and you ? Well you had tried to become one but nobody cared about the educational content you were making. You didn't have a response for her, you had been eating a lot of junk these days so this was clearly on you.

As you reached home after a long day he was watching something on the tv so you looked at the screen. He had a dark green tunic on that was probably made from some Asgardian fabric, a black trouser underneath, hair still wet from the shower.

"Captain released a statement that he had an altercation with me after I escaped, he claimed that I had morphed into him and was trying to steal the scepter"

"Whattt?" You looked at him confused

"Exactly what I'm saying. What is he talking about? I was here, I did not pretend to be him, as if I'd ever want to morph myself into him" you shook your head in disbelief as he said that. His accent always got thicker when he was excited or agitated.

"Why not? He's hot" He gave you the typical I don't think so look as you said that. You didn't understand a thing he was saying though.

"Something is happening..I clearly smelled the cologne of two Anthony Starks and now there are two Captains" you walked towards him as he huffed in annoyance, you placed your one hand on his shoulder to comfort him then you fluffed his hair up.

"Ummm how about you stop watching news? Let's start with that alright?" You grabbed the remote from him and turned the tv off, probably shouldn't have taught him to use it in the first place. He raised his brows in response, the crinkled lines on his forehead made you smile.

"I'm going to shower then you can do my lasagna" he smiled as you said that but you just heard yourself too "I mean we can eat each other" you took a deep breath after that mortifying slip up. Again. The cuddle sesh has infected your brain with some sort of virus "We can do…dinner..for fucks say" you mumbled as you stormed towards the bathroom.

Once you came out, you put on a tshirt and a pair of trousers. You could feel his eyes on you and it made you nervous.

"Do you wanna smoke weed or something?" You questioned him so he nodded immediately "Wow didn't have to convince you at all huhhh?"

"Is it a recreational mind altering herb? We have such herbs in Asgard, but it makes one rather foolish when consumed for a prolonged period of time, very detrimental for health" he said proudly.

"Ohhh your behavior makes so much more sense now you know" you chuckled as you looked for it in your closet and he rolled his eyes in response, he enjoyed this back and forth bantering with you.

You had two joints, where did the other one go? You made a mental note to look for it later because right now you just needed a moment of relaxation and distraction from that cuddling sesh you couldn't stop thinking about.

You came back to him and he looked at you curiously as you placed the end of the joint between your lips and lighted it up. The smell of the weed reached his sense, making him squint his eyes. Gah-dorable.

"Let's do it on the bed" you were saying all the wrong things today. You got off the couch and quickly hopped towards the bed. Oh he wanted to do it on the bed too, preferably the smaller one but he knew you didn't mean doing you exactly.

"So we can finally burn it down for good?" He retorted and you turned to look at him, feigning a hurt look on your face.

"It's my baby..how dare you?" he raised both of his hands up and took a step back "Because of the window..i don't want the smell to reach Mrs Geller" you said as you opened the window behind your bed "Okay the apartment in the front is still tenant-less..yayyy" you took a few hits and finally passed it to him. You didn't think he'd be able to smoke it because he just seemed so posh and regal and princely and you didn't think he had ever smoked anything in his life but turned out he was a pro.

You were already starting to feel the effect of it and you wondered if he did too? Passing the joint back and forth only made you hyperfocus on his lips. The lips that you wanted on--

"It is strong, though I never envisioned a lady like you to be into such a poisonous thing"

"It's just..grass " you said to him so he smiled, he was lying on the bed front side down, keeping himself all propped up on his elbows while you stayed seated with your back against the headboard "A grass that makes you feel floaty and drowsy.. besides I do it occasionally" That was probably a lie.

In order to avoid his intense gaze and that stupid smile on his face you decided to play music on your phone. Ofcourse you had to choose a song that screamed sexy.

Baby you can, ride it oh yeah..bring it over to my place

He put his hand forward so you passed the weed to him, he laid down on the bed as he took a puff. Did he actually want to burn the bed? You watched the smoke going up before it disappeared into the air.

And you be like

"Baby, who cares?"

But I know you care

Bring it over to my place

"Careful with the ashes" you said to him as you could see that it was about to fall right on his face. He suddenly clicked his fingers and you watched the particles of ashes beginning to drift in the air, as if that wasn't enough he made them light up again with his sorcery, it looked beautiful, reminded you of fireflies. You couldn't help but smile as you crawled on your knees to have a closer look, he sat up and watched that look on your face that he had come to adore so much.

You don't know what you did, did to me

Your body lightweight speaks to me

"Beautiful" you giggled as you tried to touch one of them.

"Isn't it?" He said so you looked at him. Always with the intense gaze.

I can make it hurricane on it

Hunnid bands, make it rain on it

Tie it up, put a chain on it

Make you tattoo my name on it,

You looked at him and his intoxicated eyes made you want to hide, this wasn't real right? You were just too high and romanticizing things. Yup

You took the joint away from him and he sat up, you were still holding it between your fingers when he grabbed your wrist and twisted it towards him. Placing the joint around his lips he took a longer drag and when he let it out it hung in the air as if he had made the time halt somehow, he waved his fingers around and you saw the smoke turning into the foggy portrait of a woman. It was a portrait of you.

It made your eyes well up with emotions that you felt were indescribable.

Make you cry like a baby, yeah

Let's GoPro and make a video

Shut the fuck up brown.

"I'm speechless"

"At last..Thank the norns" you gasped as he said that, you picked up a pillow and hit him a bunch of times but he wasn't even defending himself. He was just giving you that killer smile with every attack.

You don't know what you did, did to me

Your body lightweight speaks to me

"This was the best thing ever or what?" you huffed in excitement as you got off the bed.

"It is" he mumbled in his mouth as he watched the distance grow between you two. You were hungry now but he couldn't stop staring at you.

I don't know what you did, did to me

Your body lightweight speaks to me

The lyrics spoke to him, he had never felt such a yearning before, what were you doing to him? Whenever he wanted a sexual release he found it with an equally willing partner, but it was never filled with such palpable tension, he knew he didn't crave just sex from you. He was enchanted by you and he didn't know why. You were just a mortal, he have had his moments where he used to look down upon your kind once.

He still wanted to look down but only when you'd be on your knees in front of him with his co—

"Come here" you yelled from the kitchen space so he pressed a stop button on the filth that were starting to corrupt his head.

"Turn up the music ..I need it in my life yeahhh" you sang along and danced on your spot as you reheated the lasagna you had made. He made his way into the kitchen and leaned himself against the refrigerator as he watched you be goofy. You did funny over the top steps to make him laugh and your eyes teared up again as he threw his head back while laughing. Why were you getting so freaking emotional over him for doing such a normal thing? He was just another run of the mill alien god.

Wait what?

You both sat down to eat finally but you couldn't stop giggling, your phone has been continuously ringing so you picked it up.

"Hey mommm…mummmyy" you mumbled, her voice sounded unclear and then you noticed how you were holding the phone upside down.

"Are you drunk?" She asked you.

"Nooooooooo..what?" You were zoning out alot so you just hummed to whatever she was saying. You did remember that she would visit the day after tomorrow and you did feel worried about it especially with a certain god slash alien in your apartment but you figured you'd think about it tomorrow. As she hung up you relaxed again.

"Remind me to diet again from tomorrow, goddd she's sooo going to comment on it" you mumbled so he looked up from the book he was reading. It definitely wasn't from this planet.

"About what?"

"Me being fat"

"You're not fat"

"And you're the king of England" he tilted his head at the comment "Oh I thought we were playing that game where we had to tell each other lies"

He sighed as you said that.

"I would never lie to you" he said sincerely. He didn't appreciate how you felt so critical about your physicality. He understood it because he wasn't any better but he still abhorred that you felt this way about yourself.

"I'm not kidding, okay? The other day we were making this video at the gym where the male trainers were supposed to lift the female employees and this guy couldn't lift me because I have gotten so heavier than before" you blabbed as you put down the plate of lasagna after eating.

"Did you perhaps ponder over the fact that this male worker of yours is too frail to carry a woman?" He asked you

"Yeah righttt" you chuckled so he put his book down and got up, in a matter of seconds you were in his arms, didn't even have a chance to react.

"See?"

"Ohh shush..I'm sure you're strong enough to carry a rhinoceros"

"So this rhinoceros must be a small and dainty little creature from your planet i assume. Much Like a Cat?" You chuckled as he said that. As he put you down finally, you both brushed your teeths, separately. And then he conjured that princely bed for you. None of you were going to mention the cuddling right? Okay.

"I'm going to sleep on my bed tonight, okay? You take this" you laid down on your bed before he could protest or get an opportunity to manipulate you with his sad scrunchy brows.

The lights turned off but you couldn't fall asleep, how could you when you were thinking about him constantly? You had your back turned against him and that's why you didn't see it when he stepped down from his bed.

"It's strenuous for me to fall asleep on that bed, my body is habituated to this one" you heard his voice so you turned slightly to look at him staring at you, he looked giant from this angle.

"I'm not moving" you huffed and turned on your side again.

Your eyes widened as you felt the mattress dipping because of his weight.

"It is definitely acceptable for me" you gasped as you heard his voice behind you, you could feel his body next to you.

"What are you doing?" you turned to look at him so he placed his large hand on your cheek and shushed you up by placing his thumb on your lips. How dare he?

"Shhhhhh..now sleep" you were going to say something but his thumb went past your lips so your pulled your head back in order to slip the digit out of your mouth. He only chuckled in response.

"You're being inappropriate"

"Am I?" He responded as he scooted even closer and just like yesterday his arm went around your waist but before that he made sure to hook your leg over his own, he pulled you closer to his body and your breath quickened again. You can't handle such close proximity, it made you want to do bad things to him and with him. The bubbling scorching heat. Noooooooo

"Sleep well" he whispered as he placed his head over your breasts again, would he be able to feel your nipples getting erect? You'd die with embarrassment if he could. The vibrations you felt from his words went straight to your nether region.

"Can I lower the temperature?" He questioned you.

"What?"

"The temperature. May I please lower it down a notch?" Oh now he wanted to be polite?

"Yeahhh?"

The heat usually bothered him but he didn't do it for the heat this time, he just wanted you to submerge into him. He wanted you to be so close to him because he really did enjoy sleeping in your arms last night. It felt safe.

As it got colder you sneaked your arm under his head just like you did yesterday and he couldn't have been happier.

"This is better" his voice came out all whispery and it made you bite on your lips, you were so close to moaning his name or something at the least "Are you uncomfortable darling?" You gulped as he questioned. You have never been more comfortable in life but you weren't going to tell him that.

"Noooo"

"I know"

The audacity

He raised his thigh up a little and now his hard muscle was snuggled perfectly between your crotch. One flex and you'd probably burst into an orgasm. God you felt nasty, maybe his thoughts were pure unlike yours and he just wanted to cuddle.

Your other arm rested on your own body in an awkward manner so he brought his hand up and interlinked his fingers with yours. In what world was this an appropriate relationship between two friends slash roommates slash alien- human buddies? Maybe in Asgard it was.

Or maybe just maybe he was as touch starved for affection and these physical touches as you were.

Once your hormones relaxed, you were able to fall asleep, it wasn't that hard actually when you were holding onto this giant soft comfy teddy bear in your arms.

However you woke up to your door buzzing incessantly.

"Y/n? Y/n??" And you heard your mom's voice. Oh god.

"Get up get up get up" you tapped your hand on his chest and he smiled as he looked at your puffy little face before you yelled at him again.

"My mom is here..get upp" you said to him as you jumped off the bed and started to grab his clothes and other things he had scattered all over the place.

"You said she'd come tomorrow..as in tomorrow?"

"I know I don't know.. go hide in the bathroom or something please" you whispered to him. You didn't want her to think you had started to talk to yourself now.

"I can just make myself invisible"

"Whattttt?" Your voice got higher but you didn't have time to dwell into it at the moment.

He clicked his fingers and then he disappeared in the shimmery waves, took you a second to process it.

"I'm still here, you just can't see me" you took a deep breath as you heard his voice.

"Oh okay okay..stay quiet" you looked at him or at the spot he was before he disappeared.

"I'm next to you" you jumped on your spot as he spoke again.

You quickly made your way to the door and you were met with your mom's angry looking face.

"Hiiii..hey what are you doing here..you're..24 hours early" you hugged her and she looked at you confused.

"No honey. I told you yesterday that I'd come tomorrow"

"No you said you'd be here the day after tomorrow"

"No I said yesterday that I called you yesterday and you didn't pick up. I wanted to tell you that day that I'd be here the day after tomorrow" you looked at her confused as her words fried whatever working brain cells you somehow still had in your skull.

"Why it's so cold in here? Are you trying to freeze yourself" she shivered and rubbed her arms with her palms.

"Sorry..ummm how did you..who buzzed you in?"

"Ohhh i met your neighbor downstairs, Mrs Geller, what a nice lady, we had a cup of coffee" she said to you so you nodded. She looked around the house in disapproval. Well you were going to clean it today. You wondered where Loki was at the moment.

"Sooo how come you are here" she took a whiff, ignoring your question altogether.

"Is a man living here?" You burst out laughing as she said that..

"You're funny..so funny ..funny funny mom" she glared at you as you cackled like a witch "Why would you say that?"

She walked towards the sofa and grabbed the book Loki had left last night and it made you grit your teeth so harshly you feared they'd break.

"Since when do you read?"

"I uhhh mom –" she looked at you with and her eyes got teary with plenty of emotions.

"Ohhhh I'm so happy for you…finally you managed to keep a man? Oh Mrs Geller was right you're seeing someone" she hugged you tightly. Mrs. Geller needed to shut up one of these days.

"Mom–"

"Ohh by the way everyone is in Minesotta and I didn't bring them here because I knew your house would…look like thissss" she made a face as she looked around before she turned to you again "So we'll be here in the evening, just prepare a simple dinner okay?" She told you excitedly.

"By everyone you mean your boyfriend and his daughters that I love so much?" You gave her a tight lipped smile and she glared at you. The sarcasm definitely didn't sit right with her. It never did.

"He's my husband now.. it's been months, don't be disrespectful..okay I have to go..I'll see you in evening" you nodded as she said that. "Oh and bring that guy over, I'd like to meet him"

"Mom I just met him like two days ago" you lied to her so she thought about it.

"Doesn't matter..Just invite him for dinner"

As she left you put your head down on the door and sighed deeply.

You looked at Loki as he reappeared, he had a sympathetic look on his face. Fake boyfriend trope? Were you about to go through another rom com cliche?

Serves you right.

Now you couldn't wait for the dinner so the only decent friend you had in life could witness your humiliation by the hands of your step father, his perfect daughters and your own mother.

🥴🥴🥴🥴🥴🥴🥴🥴🥴🥴🥴🥴🥴

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#Spotify #loki x female reader #loki #loki x reader fluff #loki x reader #loki x reader insert #loki x reader fic #loki x you #loki x reader angst #loki x reader smut #loki fics #canon divergent au #soft loki

[wexhappyxfew]

crash landings and all

(a/n): to my annie x brady girlies, here is the piece i’ve since promised and since fallen in love with!!! featuring annie, brady, coffee cups and the rising sun + some heartfelt talks about reality. and of course all those emotions annie doesn’t really need but feels instead. enjoy!

It was 0600 and she couldn't sleep.

But this had been happening far too many times in the past few weeks for her to ignore it and call it nerves, or worry, or any other bothersome symptom that would have one of the girls nudging her and asking her if she was okay.

Which she was, alright?

Or she was at least trying to tell herself that.

When there were mornings without missions, that's usually when she would come and sit out, just outside of the mess hall, and stare out towards where the B-17s sat, silhouetted against the purple and pink skyline as the sun began to appear. She'd usually sit there for about an hour, before she started seeing people moving about, and then she'd disappear inside, grab herself a coffee, avoid one of Major Egan's horrible jokes in the morning, and then be on her way to her crew, or to Silver Bullets, or to anything really - to distract herself, get her mind active, get her brain focused on something other than the worry.

This morning was no different - beautiful as the early dawn was, it was also incredibly reflective. She'd sit in the silence, the only noise the breeze in the trees and past her ears, the birds beginning to wake up and sing. It was usually a lot of her convincing herself things were fine and that everything was okay. That she was okay. But usually that didn't last very long and she was off worrying about one of the girls, or that one damn engine on Silver Bullets, or better yet if Lemmons had screwed that one bolt in enough. It kind of ate her alive at the worst of times.

"Hey." Annie looked up and found, stepping down onto the step, and nestling in beside her was Brady, an outstretched hand with a steaming mug of coffee opposite her, and a tired smile on his face.

"Hey," Annie said, trying to hide her surprise and current spiral that she thought was normally drawn across her face, "you're up early. Thanks." She took the coffee and watched as he settled beside her with a sigh, sipping at his own cup of coffee and glanced her way.

"I could say the same about you." he said back, his voice still waking up it seemed from sleep, knocking her shoulder gently. Annie watched him, the first rays of the morning son painting his face a beautiful golden with his eyes and she nodded.

"Couldn't sleep." she told him honestly, "Haven't been sleeping too well anyway, so. What's not to lose with a sunrise, you know?" Brady watched her for a moment, his lanky knees bent up to his chest, the mug resting on his kneecap and his expression quiet.

"Something worrying you?" he asked her, seemingly the first assumption of many on this base - was something worrying her? The sun would shine and she'd be worried, she'd be sat at a table and someone would cough and she'd think she'd have to get the doctor, someone would come in with a headache and she'd assume the worst. So, yeah, maybe there was something wrong, but she wasn't about to spill that to Brady at 0600 in the morning.

"I just worry about the girls, you know how it is. Making sure people are sleeping, eating, feeling okay, not feeling too homesick they're bedridden. That their letters get sent, get read, they get comforted, listened to." Annie said, "Just making sure they're keeping what smiles they can on their faces." Brady caught her gaze as she glanced his way and she found a small smile lingering on her lips.

"It's just what I have to do. Make sure things work like a well-oiled machine." she told him honestly, sipping at the coffee, "I must say, you know how to make a coffee taste good." Brady smirked slightly, a bit of a laugh escaping his mouth, before he looked at her.

"I'm glad you like it," he told her, his voice tender, "but don't try to worry yourself over your crew. They're a good group of ladies flying a B-17. And they've got a great pilot to lead 'em."

"Thanks, John."

"Just make sure you keep an eye on yourself, alright," Brady said, leaning into her side a bit, causing her to glance his way, "you're a part of that crew and just as important." He spoke with a gentle ease of tone, but equally just as serious, like he was coaxing someone to calm down.

"John Brady, you are full of compliments this morning." Annie said quietly, sipping her coffee and peering at him over the edge of coffee cup, just in time to watch his ears flame red a bit and he gulped and smiled at her.

"I don't lie." he told her and Annie grinned and held his gaze for a moment.

"Humor me then," Annie said and a brief moment of reflection passed over Brady's face, "Croz sort of let it out, about those 'mechanical failures' when he mistook France for England…..what was that about…..?" Annie watched him expectantly and Brady's ears flamed a deeper red to the point it spread to his cheeks.

"Supposedly you covered for Croz, real gentlemanly, too, I must admit." Annie said, "Lying to Major Egan of all people, John Brady, I wouldn't suspect such a thing." Brady chuckled at her words and shook his head.

"I was putting it how it was," Brady said, "God, it was embarrassing though. In front of both Buck and Bucky. Land the plane on its belly, Croz vomiting just below, the thing about to blow up but it doesn't, our first introduction to the base. You do what you gotta do for the crew. I was a bit of a shithead to Croz, but to be flying over France -Nazi-occupied France - it wasn't the most pleasant." Annie smiled, watching him as he spoke.

Knowing how he cared how he flew, how he coped. He was so fluent in what he thought and believed, right and truthful. Caring, gentle, but firm and purposeful in his speech.

"The worst was that belly-landing though," Brady said, shaking his head as he sipped his coffee, "that was horrible." Annie watched as Brady seemed to relive it for a moment. She bit back her lip and then reached a hand forward and placed it on the sleeve of his wrist, the touch warm and welcoming and causing their eyes to meet.

"I crashed an AT-6 when I was doing hours for my license." Annie said - she had never dared to tell a soul such a thing, she wanted to take that to the grave, bury it, hide the humiliation. She'd jumped out of it like she was losing her mind, a lunatic sprinting across the base, with her hair ends crispy and black, her blonde hair suffering from the smoldering smoke, looking more monster than woman in that moment. Not her finest, but it had taught her a whole lot of lessons. Brady watched her for a moment, surprised.

"You?" Brady said with a nod, "Crashed not only a plane, but an AT-6? No, I don't believe you." Annie could get his joking tone pretty solid by this point and instead laughed at his words, leaning back to wrap her slightly cold fingertips around the mug and nodded.

"I did in fact crash-land it. Crazed eyes, hair-on-fire and all." Annie said and Brady watched her as if amazed.

"I must admit, it's hard for me to picture that because you're one of the best pilots I've ever met." Brady said and if she were honest, they both looked surprised as that came out of his mouth, but he was quickly talking next and she took a moment to relive those words.

"I mean, you look so calm and collected….what…what happened to warrant that?" he said, leaning a bit closer, evidently interested in the tale that had her losing her mind for weeks after.

"Truth be told, me learning to fly was like telling a fish to live in a tree," Annie said watching as Brady chuckled, "I wasn't always….this." She pointed to her face and Brady smirked.

"Oh c'mon, you're a goddamn good pilot, Annie, really." Brady said, and then smiled, "Go on though." Annie sent him a look with a playful smirk.

"You, asshole." she said and nudged his shoulder, "Don't try to get back at me with that or something in the future."

"Never, my lips are sealed." Brady said, sending her a wink - why would he do that at six am when she's somewhat still fogged with sleep and brain exhaustion.

"Anyway," Annie said, catching his smile again, "all the engines crapped out on me as I was coming in for the landing, the tower was telling me to eject, ejector was jammed, and the wheels were stuck at 45 degrees. So, I did what I could, braced myself and the thing slid across about hundreds of feet of sand before tilting to the side, me pouring out like Ma's soup for dinner. It was so bad, and horrifically embarrassing. God."

"Hey," Brady said, leaning into her peripheral, "'least you can say you know how it's done." Annie let out a laugh at his words then and there, her heart feeling warm for one of the first mornings sat out here; usually alone and now in good company.

"I mean, it wasn't the first time I even crashed landed." Brady offered with a shoulder shrug. Annie stared at him, trying to keep the smile from her lips.

"You're joking."

"Wish I was, Annie," Brady said, "back in training, went down, Croz could tell you all about it. Became pretty well-known among the base and the training groups." He smiled.

"But," he said, "'least I can say I did it." Annie let out a laugh, clasping a hand over her mouth as she glanced at him and watched him chuckle, his eyes glowing in the morning sun that was slowly peaking its way over the horizon line.

"You should join me for mornings like this more often," Annie said quietly, looking out towards the sunlight, "get some things off your chest. It's why I do well….usually alone, but it helps me think. Through things like that." She looked over and met his gaze and smiled. His expressions in the early morning were so much gentler than at dinner, and it almost made her wish he could stay like that forever in some selfish way. All of them, truth be told.

"I think I will," Brady said, "I'm glad you like the coffee. I wasn't sure what you went for, but….you seemed like a cream type of person."

"You either are really good as guessing or someone snitched." Annie said, catching Brady smirking.

"Nah, Bessie was in there the other day getting coffee for you two. I know she drinks straight black and was wondering who the hell she'd be getting a coffee full of creamer for so…." Brady admitted, glancing her way, "I hope you enjoy it." Annie looked to the cup of coffee and took another lingering sip. She wanted to stay like this for a while, freeze time maybe. But that would never be such a thing in their lives.

"We should take a spin together some time," Annie said looking towards him, a smile growing on her lips, "if you ever wanted to be in Silver Bullets when she gets going in the air. You could be my co-pilot." Brady watched her, his face still for a moment, held in a graceful balance of seriousness and surprise and then the corner of his lips ticked upwards.

"I think Francis would drop-kick me from the cockpit." Brady whispered quietly to her and Annie chuckled.

"She'd be fine with it, I swear to you," Annie said, "maybe not anytime soon, as long as we're going up, dropping bombs and all. But maybe when this whole thing ends. And we just get to be. When we get to go home." Looking over, she found Brady already watching her. Home, seemed to echo in her mind the longer she held his gaze.

"Hey! That you Brady?" Annie watched Brady turn away from her face and glance behind her, her own gaze following to find Crank coming towards them, waving an arm, "Buck's been trying to get a-hold of you!" Brady nodded and then looked back at her, a sudden shift in whatever it was that existed between them. He slowly got to his feet, brushed off his pants and then stopped to lean down towards her ear.

"I'd love to be your co-pilot," Brady whispered, sending chills up her neck, "ma'am." Then, he was up and off, sending her cheeks flaming red, her eyes going over her shoulder, as he went and caught up to Crank, shaking his hand and nodding to him, exchanging all the pleasantries. Annie caught his eyes one final time as he glanced back at her. He winked.

#im so normal about them i swear #THEM!!!! #annie bradshaw #john brady #annie x brady #john brady x oc #listen they were going through and its john brady so ofc he had to find a way to make her blush :')))) #very excited to continue just writing them #can promise they do get to take that spin in silver bullets together ;D #THEMMMMM #an absolute joy these two #proud of this one :) #enjoy!! #masters of the air #mota #mota writings #silver bullets

[prettyboykatsuki]

not enough trust to believe (not enough feeling to care) | a. shinonome

✮ tags ; fem!reader (usage of she/her towards reader + mentioned to wear make-up), established relationship, making-up, jealousy, hurt/comfort, light angst / happy ending, aged-up characters (this is sfw), single suggestive comment at the end.

✮ wc ; 4k (how.. literally what happened.)

✮ a/n ; the minute i touch that app a demon takes over and i end up daydreaming about this mf and toya . peace and love i feel insane. also for what its worth i do think adult akito is very good at communicating his emotions in comparison to now so if u find him ooc my apologies.

title from rental by brockhampton. shoutout if u know what manga this panel is from lol. also if ur a minor please do not follow me. u r welcome to read.

"Y'know, Akito - you're being a bit of a hypocrite right now."

"Shut up, Toya." Akito grumbles, forcing himself to tear his eyes away from the bastard you're currently giggling with "I'm not."

An laughs from the other side of the room.

"You so are being a hypocrite right now," An threads her fingers through Kohanes hair, the other currently seated on the floor while she styles it "What was it you said? It's nothing to get jealous over so don't worry."

"Akito-kun, it's not good to be dishonest."

"Kohane-san, you're being corrupted. I can't believe you'd join these two on this."

Kohane shakes her head.

"I'm not being anything. It's just not right."

An wraps her arms around Kohane's shoulders from above, chin resting on her head. Akito sighs, leaning his head back on the wall behind him with his eyes still closed - only bothering to open them again when another giggle falls from your lips. This time it turns into full blown heart eyes from that corny bass-playing bastard.

Akito Shinonome is not jealous alright? He isn't. So, this reaction is not by any means hypocrisy.

VIVID BAD SQUAD has officially been on tour for 6 months. This is their first international tour of their career, after releasing their first studio album. It was received well in Japan but surprisingly had more of an audience overseas. So, they'd been performing all over North America with another band.

You've been apart of the VIVD BAD SQUAD team for quite some time before then, working as a roadie for tours back home. Akito has been dating you for well-over a year, and so far - its been great. He gets to see you often and manages to sneak you onto the performers tour bus sometimes. He likes not having to be apart, even if he is incredible busy. A little is better than nothing at least.

A few months ago, the two of you got into a bit of a spat. You'd told Akito that you think he gets a little too friendly when girls come to meet him backstage. Went on a whole spiel about understanding his career and persona, that he doesn't need to be cold but that you wish he put a little more distance between them.

Akito had retaliated with the fact it's nothing to worry about. He's loyal to you and him being friendly isn't anything meaningful. You were upset about this reply and the two of you got pretty intense.

It took Kohane and An's intervention and plenty of convincing to get you two back on good terms - with An promising that she'd keep and eye out and scold Akito properly. You started talking again after that at least, and things went back to normal.

But nothing had really gotten resolved. You still seemed to feel upset every time he'd act too familiar with fans and Akito still didn't see it as a problem. To him it was just a fake part of the persona, and he didn't think it was like you to get so jealous about something like that.

Then, a few months ago - word got out that the bassist of the band they're traveling with has a crush on you.

FLASHBANG, a smaller indie rock band that everyone on tour is very fond of and a perfect addition to their set list. Both bands are friendly with one another. He'd assumed the news of their bassist having a crush on you was nothing more than some rumor. He just couldn't believe it having met them.

Sure, not everyone knew you two were dating but surely Akito would've noticed that before. He just wanted to double check.

It's been weeks now, and he's sure. Hiroaki Miura, bassist pretty boy, has a fucking crush on you. It's so obvious he has no idea how he didn't pick up on it before. He has no idea how you haven't picked up on it either.

He'd mentioned it to you just last week, just to see. You laughed a bit, but asked if he wanted you to stop hanging out with him as much or if there was anything you could do - all while assuring you didn't think that was the case.

"If it makes you uncomfortable, I can put some distance between us. Miura-kun isn't interested in me at all, though - I don't think. We're just good friends, we went to school together."

Ultimately he said that wasn't necessary. Akito stares at the two of you together now and scoffs. Haah. Good friends because you went to school together? He's practically making googly eyes at you.

"Looks like they're coming over here," Toya mumbles. Akito closes his eyes and pretends to be asleep, eye twitching when he hears Toya exhale.

"Hey, guys - great show! The duets today were just so vocally smooth and—oh shit, is he asleep?"

He hears An laugh and forces himself not to react. "Yeah. He was exhausted after today."

"Oh, really? Some sleep will be good then." The affection in your voice is so obvious he temporarily forgets whats happening until another, much more annoying voice comes through.

"You guys going straight back to the tour bus tonight?"

"Yeah, probably." Toya confirms.

"Ah, okay cool. We," He pauses, and Akito can only assume he's gesturing to you "Are gonna go check out a manga pop-up that's open here a few blocks down."

"Just the two of you?" An asks, very obviously barely holding in a laugh.

"Oh no, Eta-san is coming with us."

"Y'know, I wanted to go alone with you," Miura says, and Akito really thinks about waking up and hitting him "But Eta really wanted to come so I couldn't say no."

"I like how honest you are with your feelings, Miura-kun. Very refreshing."

"I don't have anything to hide," He insists, and Akito feels his hand clench "It was just nice we ended up tour together. We haven't seen each other since highschool so I thought I should make the most of our time together."

"I don't remember you being so sentimental. I actually remember you bullying me more than anything."

"Hey, quit it! I wasn't bullying you, i-it just came out wrong. I'm not good with my words and all."

"I know," You say completely good-naturedly. Akito knows objectively you're being friendly and thinking nothing of it. He knows that this is nothing to be bothered over and that you've been nothing but loyal. But god he’s annoyed."You would make fun of me then turn around and lend me your stuff. After I figured out you weren't a bad guy I wasn't scared of you."

"You guys have quite the history," Toya comments. You laugh.

"Yeah, I guess so. We lost touch after I moved for my internship so it feels like a big coincidence! Always good to see old friends."

Before any more conversation happens, another staff member calls Miura for whatever reason - leaving you alone. Akito keeps his eyes closed, hearing Toya sigh for a second time.

"Should I tell Akito where you went?"

"Oh, would you? That'd be great, thanks. I figure he wouldn't want to come, or else I'd invite him and go together."

"Why do you think that?" Kohane asks.

"I'm not blaming him or anything! I just don't think he'd be very enthusiastic about it, that's all. I don't want to force him. Me and Miura-kun bond over this stuff, Eta-san too."

"I'm sure he'd be happy to get to spend time with you," Toya assures. He can't see you but he can hear the insecurity seeping through your voice and something in him starts to bend.

"I know, but you know. It's weird lately with tour and all. I think getting my mind off it would help."

"Oh, no." An sighs. Akito's chest tightens "You poor thing."

"Oh stop that, I'm fine! Getting some air will be nice though, you know? For both of us maybe. I did want to tell him myself though."

"It'll be fine, I'll make sure."

"Thanks, Aoyagi-kun.

"And just so you know, Akito-kun really loves you!"

"Of course. I have no reason to feel stuffy about it. Just makes me wonder if I should still be apart of the picture if that's part of his career, no? Dating would hinder that."

"Don't think like that." Toya interjects. You laugh but even Akito can hear how sad you sound. He had no idea you'd even been thinking that.

"I'll try just for you. Now all of you, stop moping over my silly dating problems okay? It was an amazing show today!! Cheer up and I'll see you guys later."

"Where are you going now?"

"Gonna wait backstage for Miura-kun."

"Have fun," Kohane says last. You laugh brightly and assure you will before your footsteps trail off and get lost in the music. When you're gone, Toya punches him in the shoulder - hard enough to hurt a little.

"Ow, what the fuck?"

"You're such a jackass," An says seriously, shaking her head.

"I told you that it was gonna be a problem that you acted like that when we're a duo," Toya reprimands seriously. Akito can't do much to counter it "You should talk to her properly."

"About what," Akito grumbles "It is part of the gig. It doesn't mean anything to me."

"Oh my god, you're so clueless!" An says, exasperated, startling him "It bothers you this much that she's talking to Miura-kun but she should just deal with it when random girls act like to you all the time?"

"An-chan, don't get too mad."

"If I don't no one will! Did you see how sad she looked! She was even trying to be all understanding. That's not fair to her at all."

"...I also understand Akito-kuns view. But if that's the case, then that doesn't mean that she needs to tolerate it, right?"

"What are you saying, Kohane-san?"

She shakes her head.

"I just mean she doesn't have to continue if it's hard for her. If it's not something you can change, then she shouldn't endure it forever, right?"

“What the hell? Are you saying we should break-up?”

“Maybe. If it can’t be resolved, then isn’t unfair to expect her to always endure it?”

“That’s a mature way of looking at, Kohane-san.” Toya comments. Akito shoots him a dirty look. Toya shrugs, unbothered.

“Her and Miura-kun are a good match. They have a good atmosphere and Miura-kun doesn’t care about things like that,”

Akito sits up in frustration, nearly grabbing Toya by the collar.

“Don’t fuck with me.”

“Think about whats best for her in the long run.”

Akito stands to his feet, glare hardened but Toya doesn’t budge at all. He doesn’t have to listen to this shit.

"This and that isn't the same. It's work to me, that's it."

"Everything that she and Miura-kun do is strictly platonic to her. She's not flirting with him, and it's not her fault if he has a crush on her. She even offered to stop seeing him if it made you uncomfortable."

Akito stays silent at that.

"But what about you? You just immediately dismissed it because it's part of her job and didn't even apologize to her later. You seriously think that's fair?"

He sighs at that, and shakes his head.

"I'm leaving."

Toya shakes his head once Akito is out of ear shot.

"So stubborn."

___

It’s close to midnight and you haven’t returned to the tour bus.

Akito knows its stupid to worry but knowing you were out with that goon all day is grating on his nerves. So he’s been waiting. Pacing around and smoking cigarettes, going in and out - he even texted you couple times to check in. You responded with pictures of your items, and selfies.

You had a long day, you drank a bit, you'd be back to the bus soon, you miss him. All in a row.

The longer the time goes on, the dumber Akito feels.

He leans on the bus as he waits on his phone, fingers growing cold. He hears you before he sees you, the sound of quiet giggling followed by a loud laugh. Akito's head snaps up almost immediately.

He hasn't seen you since the afternoon, but you changed. You're wearing your going-out outfit and it looks like you've put on some makeup too, smudged and worn. Eta is between you both as you carry her - Miura just has lovesick as when Akito saw him last. His stomach drops a little.

But the feeling is washed away when you brighten, eyes landing on him. You wave with a bag in your hand and Akito waves back. He waves to Miura too, if only to be polite.

"Akito-kun," Miura is the first talk as all three of you approach "What are you doing here?"

"There was some stuff about tomorrow set we needed to talk about," Akito says, gesturing to you. You blink owlishly.

"Just for you guys? Not FLASHBANG?"

Akito nods. You hum, then look over at Miura.

"Will you be okay taking Eta-san?"

Miura nods.

"Of course. I can't believe she drank so much in the first place, but I oughta to walk her back to our bus." Miura says as you off-load the weight on your shoulder "I'll see you again for tomorrow. Had a lot of fun today."

You giggle, clearly a little tipsy as you give Miura a thumbs-up. "Me too. See you tomorrow!"

Miura laughs a little before turning the corner, mumbling some light reprimanding to the drunk Eta before going on his way. Akito waits until both parties have disappeared - all the way out of ear shot before he looks at you with clear eyes.

If he's come to any conclusion it's this one - Akito doesn't want to break up with you.

He can't give up his career either, and maybe that's selfish. Maybe that's the whole problem. He can't pick. He thought about it, whether or not breaking up would be the right solution. He landed on maybe. Rationally he understands it. But it makes him angry just to think about it.

Akito stares at you as you hold your bag in comfortable silence and look at him. Wide, honest eyes - so dazzling he can hardly breathe. He reaches forward and cups your cheek in the palm of his hand, smoothing his thumb underneath your eye.

"You're back late," He murmurs, though it's not accusatory "What were you doing?"

"Well, a new store opened up at the mall in Tokushima, a bookstore that had a little pop-up for an anime Miura-kun likes. So we shopped around for a while, then stopped to see a movie, then went to an izakaya to drink a bit."

"Did you drink a lot?" He says, gentle as he holds you "You're gonna get a migraine."

"I had 2 mixed drinks. They had shochu in them but it wasn't very strong. Some water will sober me up." You pause inbetween your words, brows furrowing "What happened with the set list?"

"I was lying," Akito admits without thinking twice. You look surprised and he laughs "I just wanted us to be alone."

You tug on the lapel of his jacket weakly "I said I'd put some distance between us if it made you uncomfortable."

"It's not that," And it's true. Akito just really, really needed to be with you alone for a while "I was getting grilled earlier."

"From who?'

Akito rolls his eyes "Who else but Toya?"

You giggle.

"What was he grilling you about?"

"...You," Akito answers after some time "Us."

A beat of silence passes.

"Were you really thinking about breaking up?"

You look a little startled before looking away and something in him is crushed.

"Is that what he told you?"

"It's what it sounded like," Akito replies back. He reaches for your hand and squeezes it "Do you?"

"It's not that I want to,"

"Then what is it?"

'We're gonna go around in circles again," You say through a wet-laugh, like you're already gonna cry again. Akito fucked up bad. He brings your free hand up to his lips, kissing your knuckles gently.

"We wont this time, swear."

"I know it's just work to you. It doesn't bother me all the time, either - like sometimes it doesn't bug me at all. But then, it's like, if I can't handle this much, maybe we should break up," You explain carefully and slowly, not trying to be too harsh at any point "I don't want to resent you or get in the way of your career, y'know. I know you're not gonna cheat on me. I'm a little insecure about it, but tough shit you know?"

"What do you mean?"

"It just...I dunno. It feels bad to watch you flirt with your fans, but if it's work for you than that makes it a me problem right?" You say thoughtfully, a sad but gentle look in your eyes "I don't know if I can handle that. So maybe, it's better to nip it in the bud now before things get serious."

"Aren't they serious already?"

"Yeah, but it's not like we're married. Or public. Like this, it's a normal break-up. It'll be awkward for a bit. But we get through it and things go back to how they were."

"It sounds like you don't take this seriously." Akito says, accusatory. You sigh and shake your head.

"That's not true at all. If you mattered to me in any less, it might be easier. Like if I loved you just a bit less, I could come up with a better solution," You hum. Akito believes it more than anything, that you love him. Even knowing doesn't make everything better "I love you and I know that your career is the most important thing to you. I would never want to make you choose."

"So what? You just cut yourself out of the equation so I don't have to?"

Where Akito expects you to disagree, you laugh and nod your head.

"Yeah. At least we'd be on good terms that way."

Akito stares at you in disbelief. He's partially angry, and partially devastated. He knows what you're saying, and it makes sense rationally. Logically at least. It's a problem with no good outcomes, like if there's already a stalemate - whose to say things will get better. It's in character for you to think like that. Where Akito is hard-headed and passionate, you're calm and analytical. To overthink to such an extent, to think so seriously about your futures. Both Akito's future and yours.

But it's not what he wants. His career is important, of course it is. What he's built is important. But does that mean he has to give up on you?

When Akito reflects on it, he doesn't think your original ask was that hard to fulfill. It hurts the worst to know that. Had he heard you out properly the first time, thought about it a little more - it'd be clear that it's nothing that serious.

Nothing worth making you worry over. Nothing worth making you question your entire relationship over.

But he didn't do that the first time, and now he's stuck listening to you think of all the ways things could go worse from here. It's his fault, really, for not thinking about it. He's always been this way about his career.

"You've been thinking about this a lot." He says first, almost paralyzed. You laugh humorlessly.

"I was going to wait until tour was over to talk about it."

"...Cause you were worried about how I'd perform."

"You're an important part of my salary," You joke, trying to lighten the mood.

"...Man this feels like shit,"

"Sorry."

"No, not it's not that. It's not your fault."

"It's not yours either."

"But it is," He says, exasperated with himself "If I would've just fucking... heard you out a few months ago. You wouldn't have been thinking about all this. If I had just done something then,"

"I don't see it like that, Akito."

"I know but it doesn't matter, cause it's my fucking fault anyway." He looks at you seriously. Shit, he almost wants to cry. "I don't want to break-up with you. I'm really sorry."

"A-akito?"

"I'll stop flirting with the girls who come to meet us. And I'll announce our relationship after I talk with the managers a bit,"

"A-akito, you really don't have to—"

"My career, music, everything we've built so far is important to me," Akito looks at you seriously, hoping it all comes out right. That everything comes through the way he intends "But shit, so are you. You're not...less important to me than any of that."

You stay silent, like you're in disbelief.

"Really?"

"Fuck—god, yes of course. I'm sorry. I really screwed up this time. I don't want to break up. I want to be with you, for a long time. Longer than this."

"I'm gonna cry." You say with a warbly laugh.

"Don't cry," Akito mumbles, pulling you into his arms. He hears you sniffle as he tucks your face against his chest, his arms around you tightly as he comforts you "I'm sorry for being an idiot. I love you,"

He presses a kiss to your head, looking at your tear-stained face with a sigh. He leans forward, knocking your foreheads together before littering kisses along your cheeks and face until you laugh again. He finds himself smiling too, before another somber wave of emotion washes over him.

"I'm sorry for being a shithead," He says with a sigh "An called me a jackass and I can't believe I have to agree with her."

You laugh "I don't think you're a jackass."

"You totally should though," Akito says back "I was pissed off the whole day."

"Really? Why?"

"Why do you think?

You look genuinely confused for a minute before something seems to click.

"Was it because of Miura-kun?"

"Yeah. Fucking walking around so lovey-dovey, making googly eyes at you."

You smile impishly "He confessed to me earlier today."

Akito stiffens immediately.

"What?!"

"Yeah. We were in an alley and waiting for Eta-san and he just... told me outright."

"...And then what?"

You roll your eyes "Of course I accepted and now we live together, happy ever after." Your sarcasm bleeds through your words as you flick Akito's forehead "Obviously I rejected him gently and said I was seeing someone."

"And then?"

"And then he asked who, and I said and then he was silent for a while before tearing up a little." You reply thoughtful, fond smile on your face "He said he wishes he did it in highschool and I comforted him for a bit. Guy cheered up really fast,"

"Seriously?"

"Congrats on being right," You lean into Akito, wrapping your arms around his waist "He bounced back after a drink or two and it hasn't been awkward at all. He can't hide his feelings for shit so I'm sure he's fine."

"Seriously? It's over just like that?"

"He's a positive guy and he doesn't dwell on things. Kind of dopey you know? Pure-hearted to a fault, the only thing he's really smart at is music and sports."

"So he's over it? There's no way."

"I wouldn't say he's over it," You say thoughtfully "More that he just accepts things as they are. I'm not into him so that's that. But we're still friends, and that won't change any time soon. I hope that's okay."

Akito widens his eyes.

"I mean, yeah it's fine - I guess I feel better about this way but. I mean, shit."

"I thought you'd be celebrating a little more."

Akito scoffs.

"He's still gonna make those stupid heart eyes at you, just not in front of me."

"He does not do anything of the sort!"

"Oh yes he definitely does. Ask Toya if you don't trust me."

"Maybe I will." You reply, sticking your tongue out.

"Ask him when we get to our bus."

"...Is that okay? Did you ask your manager?"

He laughs again, holding you close a second time. He tilts your chin up towards him, placing a kiss on your lips.

"Don't care," He says brazenly "I need you with me tonight."

"That sounds dirty, Akito."

"Oh, it is baby," He teases, turning his voice low "Try not to be too noisy. Kohane-sans a light sleeper."

#akito shinonome x reader #akito x reader #project sekai x reader #pjsekai x reader #writing tag

[everythingne]

KINTSUGI - AKIN TO A PRIDE VERSE - MV1

When brought to panic by ruthless reporters, Reina snaps and hits a reporter out of instinct. In desperation, Hana flies Max to London help her daughter out of a depressive episode caused by Reina thinking that she's more like her father than she ever wants to be. And Max realizes some things about who you call family.

warnings: reporters grabbing reina, mentioned rumors of domestic abuse, mentions of child abuse and past/current broken metacarpal (hand) bones (wow look at me being sciency?), many assumptions about max's childhood, reina has a whole break down, reminder this isn’t a romance series, also btw I changed reina's age to make her 20 (legit go back and look LOL) and that totally isn't something for silly foreshadowing purposes no no, my comeback after going to college LMAO

I'M FUCKING SCREWED. I'm so fucking screwed. I can feel the anxiety coursing through my arms as I stand there, my teammates off to my side as we try and fight through the media pen. We weren't even supposed to be here but Ollie Bearman had decided he was bored and dragged me and Kimi Antonelli along to see some other drivers by wandering along the pit lane. We were all pretty civil with one another, save for one or two weird rivalries here or there, so we were quick to amass a group that eventually Trident broke up when they needed Richard back.

And then media had shown up, and we'd gotten quickly swarmed with no real way out.

Luckily, Kimi had called someone from the paddock to come get us and help us out so as we slowly pushed through the crowd as politely as possible, someone was actively coming to us.

And then I had gotten split off.

"Ollie!" I shouted, trying to grab his attention, but my voice is lost among those of the reporters who chase after him. How theres so many reporters here, I have no idea. It's not normal. And then again, nothing about this season really was normal because of the whole siblings thing.

"Miss Matsumoto!" someone shouts and a camera is shoved in my face, I try to keep a calm composure, nodding sharply in greeting as I try to continue through the crowd, "How are you feeling about your race tonight?"

"I think I'll be alright," I nod, pulling the rim of my hat down a bit further, "My team has grown a bit with Max's personal trainer giving us some tips for my physical training and it's been really interesting seeing how just changing my diet and training has made drive different."

"How is your relationship with Max?" Someone else shouts and a smile happily crosses my face, okay, I can do this. Just keep talking and just keep pushing forward. Do what Max taught you.

"He's been incredible, a lot kinder than people give him credit for." I make sure to point that out as I walk. A few more questions about Max are tossed my way, what exactly he's been teaching me (how to train for Formula One specifically, different ways to keep my brain sharp, physical training adjustments, how to cope with the drastic difference between F2 and F1, which both Logan and Oscar had already told me about), if I've met Kelly and Penelope (I have, Penelope adores me for some reason), who I've met in Red Bull (Daniel, Max, Christian, Geri, a few engineers, some other drivers who now raced for other teams, and such.)

And then someone asks something that makes my stomach crawl, "Can you tell us why we haven't seen your father in the paddock this season even though his racing company is one of your main sponsors?"

"It's only the third race. I'm sure we'll see him in Sakura." I smile, trying to keep my voice level, but the reporters have found something to latch onto. I took too long to respond.

"How is your relationship with him been impacted since moving in with your mother?"

"The timezones make it hard to speak, but he is still my father, so," I shrug, trying now a bit more desperately to shove through the crowd. They're not letting me go. I can hear Kimi telling someone to move, his voice is sharp and annoyed, but the reporter doesn't listen.

"Is it true your father abused you?"

"What?" I gape, but reporters flash cameras and shove over each other to get to me. My reaction fuels them.

"Is Project Matsumoto a real thing, or just a mimic of Project Verstappen?"

I can't even recover from the last question as I gasp out, "I'm sorry?" I don't even know what they're referencing.

"Did Red Bull pick you to be Max's sibling due to your similar childhoods?"

I can't get words out now, the berating is on, and all I can do is try and back away. I can see Ollie waving a hand, trying to beckon me through the crowd, and now FIA officials are coming to move the reporters away. It's a mess of shoving and screaming, people in my face as they repeat themselves until their voices pitch to shouts and screams. I can't move through because any step I take is immediately countered by a shift in the tide of cameras and voices, blocking my path.

"Was your fathers attitude is Sakhir last year reflective of your childhood with him?" "How did your parents divorce effect your racing career?" "Is it hard to be living away from your Japanese roots?" "Why did your mother accuse your father of emotional and physical domestic abuse when they divorced?"

A reporter steps forward and grabs me and I rip back from him. Ollie's shoving a reporter to the side, trying to grab me before he's closed off by the ocean of people around me.

"Is the rumor of your fathers mistreatment of you true?" The man asks again, trying to grab me and I stumble back in a panic. My hat is pulled off by him instead, and I just let it go as I bring my arms to my stomach and wrap around myself.

"Please! Everyone, wait--!" I cry out, the obvious panic in my tone making my skin flame with embarrassment.

"Answer the question!" The same man shouts, shoving a reporter aside as raising his hand with his microphone. All I see is the raising of a fist in the shadow of my father, and my brain reacts before I can really think about what I'm about to do.

Crack!

I gasp as soon as I make the connection. It's hard. Max's training paying off well. Ollie's infront of me, grabbing my wrists and gently pulling me to the side until he can get me out of the crowd. Prema's around me in seconds, closing me off as I stare at my hands and feel the blood seeping across my knuckles.

I'm so screwed.

They get me into the paddock, voices over my head and slipping through my ears. I'm sat in my drivers room, Ollie and Kimi being peeled from my sides to go off and get ready for the race. I can't hear, can't think, a constant ringing ruining any conscious thought. My knuckle is split. My ring finger. I stare as one of the medics begins to clean up the wound.

Not even the sting can pull me from the thoughts racing through my head.

I hit someone. Struck a man out of fear. He had grabbed me, knocked my hat off, I had every reason to hit him. Yet, I had hit someone. I could hear my father's voice ringing in the back of my head, warnings of inheritance and passing down genetics I had shaken off to make myself feel better.

I was not my father. Never would be my father. I was so sure of that. Until today.

When the medic lets go of my hand and sets it on my lap, I feel fear strike my bones. And when René comes to get me, my silence is terrifying to everyone. I stand silent, straight faced, not even cracking a smile. The cameras watch me twice as much, I react a thousand times less.

Max is sitting on his bed, Penelope happily napping on his chest as he watches the pre-race bullshit for Reina. He had off today, oddly enough, and Kelly had gone out to do some sort of PR management event which left him to watch little Penelope. No problem at all.

The pre-race is what he's expecting, he can see Ollie dragging Reina and Kimi around and amassing a small group of F2 drivers outside of Trident. He laughs when Kimi hoists Reina into his arms, loudly announcing her by her nickname of Little Lion and making the rest of the boys cheer. What he isn't expecting is when they break up from the rest of the drivers to return to their paddock. Ollie's leading Kimi and Reina back when they get cut off by a mass of reporters. F2 hadn't been prepared for their usual amount of media to almost multiply by ten, and apparently it had been causing all sorts of issues.

Like this.

The questions are easy enough. He feels a weird swell of pride when he notices how easily Reina answers the reporters compared to before he'd started teaching her some media techniques.

And then the questions shift.

He can see Reina's panic after the first question, actually he sees it as soon as the word 'father' is brought up. He sits up a bit, gently readjusting Penelope as he turns the TV a bit louder. The camera swings away for a moment to show Ollie and Kimi pause when they realize Reina's not there, and their quick turn around before the camera swaps to show Reina.

She looks horrified. Max feels a burn in his chest as he sits up and leans forward, almost willing Ollie through the crowd. He can see multiple Prema people attempting to shove through, but every attempt is in vain. Nothing is working. It's a Sisyphean task.

Then the reporter tries to grab Reina and Max has to hold himself back from getting up and shouting at the TV. Not that it's gonna change anything. Reina steps back, and her eyes are darting around, trying to find a weak spot to escape. She can't, Max realizes, as the reporters close in.

The next thing he sees is her arm jut forward, a loud crack sounding over the speakers. His jaw drops, the sight of Reina hitting someone so foreign to him. Silence falls over the crowd as Ollie grabs her and pulls her away, someone else shouting for her to come on as Prema swarms her in a protective bubble. The feed cuts there and leaves Max on a cliff hanger for thirty minutes until they are just about to start the race. The anthem is playing. But, the Reina he sees on the screen is not his Reina.

She's silent, stone faced, frozen still and almost robotic. She moves soft as a dancer, but her gaze is sharper than an ice skaters blades. She wins, sure, but he can't get her haunted look out of his brain. She carries it even through her podium, not even able to smile when she hoists the trophy above her head.

The call from Hana the next day is expected. The invite to their flat in London is not.

"She just needs someone who understands what she's going through." Hana had pleaded on the phone, "I know it's wrong of me to say it, but you were treated a very similar way when you first got into F1 and especially when you started winning. You had a similar past, you both have similar struggles. She needs your help, Max.”

Max had wanted to suggest a therapist, a psychiatrist even, but he knew Reina would rather throw herself in front of a Le Mans car, probably the Porsche 936, than talk about her problems. Which left the question of if she would even talk to him.

But he tells Christian and Geri what's happening for a second opinion, and he is told he should go.

So he's on a flight to London three hours later, about a weeks worth of clothing packed haphazardly. He thinks he forgot a toothbrush and aftershave, but he doesn't care to check. After careful conversation, Hana had agreed to let him get a hotel close by, so he could give Reina space. Hana had been so certain Reina needed him, but Max wasn't even sure if Hana had tried to reach out to her daughter herself. Apparently Reina wasn't eating, doing her training, or even the sim. She had been in bed except for when she was forced out, and luckily there was a bit longer break than usual, it gave Max time.

He gets to the flat around eleven in the morning, twirling the keys of his rental car in his hand. He tells Hana he's coming inside and she gives him the code to the lobby and to the flat. The second one isn't needed, the woman is waiting for him in the hall.

“Thank you so much for coming out here.” Hana sighs when she sees Max and he’s shocked to see the usually classy woman in such a disheveled state, he gives her a hug in greeting but allows her to ramble through it.

“I’m sorry that I’m such a mess, I just—Reina hasn’t done this in so long it’s genuinely frightening to see it again.” Hana wipes her face, sniffling as she shakes her hands to sort of shake it off, “I’ve been trying to get her to do anything and she just won’t, she’s usually twice as active after a race, not sedimentary! I don’t know what to do—“

Max cuts off her rambling with a soft, “Hey, relax. You’ve done all you can. You go and take care of yourself, I’ll talk to Reina.”

It must be what Hana needs to hear (it’s something he’d been told by his mom when comforting Victoria growing up) because Hana barrels into his chest in a hug, thanking him probably thirty times in a row before stepping back and letting him in.

The apartment is gorgeous, Max can’t lie. It’s got big windows and tons of natural lighting, bright bold colors in decorations he’s sure Reina picked out. Which, he guesses, makes sense, because it will become her apartment soon. Hana points him in the direction of Reina’s room, but seems so genuinely distraught she can’t go near.

And this is where he’s stepping off the dock.

He hesitates to knock, but does eventually. It’s soft enough he’s sure Reina won’t hear it, but then he hears the most broken, teary and bitter, “what?” from the other side of the door.

“It’s Max.” He presses his hand to the handle, eyes staring through the wood as he leans in to the door itself, almost as if trying to see Reina through it, “can I come in?”

There’s a long enough pause he thinks she’ll say no. But theres a soft, "okay."

He pushes the door open to the darkness of Reina's room. One Himalayan salt lamp is on in the corner, providing a slightly warm glow to the room. The blinds are drawn tight, blackout curtains hastily thrown over them, and Reina's head is the only part of her body that's visible under her mass of blankets. Her room isn't quite messy, just cluttered with partially empty water bottles and a plate of cold breakfast. He remembers this. The shutting yourself off part of this all, of being raised like they had. Or, the lack thereof.

"Mornin'." He says simply, walking over to sit on the edge of her bed. Reina blinks a few times, like she can't even believe Max is there, and slowly sits up.

"Why are you here?" Her voice is groggy but not in the sense of just waking up, it sounds more like shes been sobbing for hours. A claim backed up by the redness of her swollen eyes and sniffly nose.

"Your mom called." He doesn't sugarcoat, never has, "I saw the punch. What did the FIA give you for that?"

“Five second penalty. Kimi was behind by six. Didn’t matter.” She grumbled, looking over at him from where she’s bundled up. She looks miserable, and though Max knows he’s started to crack through to get her to talk, he needs to keep trying.

“Did they fix your brakes?” Max asks and Reina nods, then sits up and sighs.

“I know you didn't fly all the way from Monaco to London for small talk. What’s wrong?” She asks, scrubbing at her red cheeks as she crosses her legs and grabs a large plush Hello Kitty and buries her face in it.

“Your mom said you’re not handling it well,” Max hums, leaning back on his hand and looking over at Reina as she curls a little bit tighter around her plushie.

“I hit someone.” She whines, “I hit him.”

“He grabbed you.” Max says, looking over at Reina and letting out a tiny non-committal hum, “the reason the FIA gave you such a little punishment is because it’s self defense.”

“But Max, I hit him.” Reina emphasized and Max blinked. What the fuck was she getting at here? His confusion must be all over his face because she shifts slightly closer and he can see where she'd split one of her knuckles open. Hana hold told him the finger was technically broken, but Reina refused to wear her brace on it. Something about having already worn one in the past. Not that Max would know. But when Reina goes to ball her hand into a fist, he notes her pinkie and ring finger don't close. Daniel's injury rings in his mind for a second, but he shoves the thought away as Reina continues to repeat herself, more broken, more panicked.

“Reina," Max attempts to soothe her, scooting a a bit closer to place a hand on hers, hiding the injury from her sight, "what are you getting at here?"

"I..." She stammers, eyes darting around his face, and then she huffs out a question he's not expecting, "Are you afraid of being like your father?"

Max blinks. The silence encompassing the room for a long while before he sighs out a soft, "Yeah, terrified."

"Me too." Reina nods, flexing her hand again. Max watches the way her eyes dart down to her injury and he realizes she's trying to cue him in. It's like a puzzle, and he has to put together the pieces to get the picture. She doesn't say anything next, leaving Max to figure it out himself, so he just watches Reina.

She's fidgety, fingers tapping along her injured hand, but he notes she keeps poking her pinkie. She'd injured her right ring finger, not the pinkie, so he's not sure what she's trying to do. She's not concerned over her current injury, but the past one. His eyes trail along her clothing, her mothers old NASCAR jersey, the rest of her hidden under mass amounts of fuzzy blankets. Her hair is braided back, greasy, and knotted, her skin is dull but still clear save for one or two pimples in her hairline. She wasn't taking care of herself, he could see that, it was a classic depressive episode.

Max meets her eyes and sees shes trying to pick him apart too.

But why? What did she need to know? Max was pretty open with her, he'd told her more than he told most people. Geri had encouraged it, hell she'd even asked if she could tell Hana some stuff from when he first got to Red Bull. The first time he'd snapped at Christian, expecting to be shouted back at, but was shocked at his calm tone. The first Christmas, when he had no one to go to, and Christian invited him to their home and though Max was slightly out of place he'd stolen the attention of the kids in a heartbeat. That was the day he'd become almost like a fifth kid to the Horners. Geri had asked if he was comfortable talking about his childhood with Hana, and he had, though it was a difficult conversation. She'd asked wonderful questions about healing and growing up and moving on, asked how much moving to Monaco and being on his own at eighteen had helped. Being on his own was freeing, he'd said that much, and though he kept some parts out he knew Hana could piece it together.

Hold on.

Max had snapped because he thought Christian would be like Jos when he'd failed to overtake on a turn.

Max hadn't had anywhere to go that Christmas because it was the first time he was celebrating without any family in the same home.

Max became an unofficial Horner because his own familial issues.

Max had moved to Monaco to get away from his father.

Reina was afraid to be like her father.

Reina was always looking to Max for validation, even with how short they had known each other.

Reina's injury, from what little Max knew, was caused after she had crashed out of a race--in heer drivers room. The last time she'd seen her dad after she'd left their house in Fukushima.

Shit.

"Reina." Max starts, not sure if he even knows how to approach this. He'd been the messy one, the one to snap, the one to shout, the one to lash out. It was evident of an 'avoidant attachment style' from his childhood or whatever the hell that meant, therapists always confused him with technicalities. Max wasn't gentle, he wasn't soft like this, he was hard edges and half-broken promises. How does one avoid their own sharp edges when trying to handle something so soft? How can Max be sure he won't break Reina?

"What happened to your pinkie?" He asks, gently prodding the knuckle with his own. Reina meets his eyes. He can't find her in her own gaze.

"Boxer's fracture." She murmurs, "Like Daniel's."

"I know that, but how did it happen?" He pushes and when Reina freezes up, he whispers, "Listen, it's just us right now. I'm gonna keep you safe, yeah? Like a real brother would."

Max had enough experience protecting Victoria.

"My dad." Reina starts, then swallows and closes her eyes. She leans forward, seeking out Max, and he moves so she can rest her head on his shoulder, staring down at her hands covered by his, "Last year, when I crashed out towards the end of the season. I was living with my mom by then, so I never really saw him. I didn't even know he was at the race. I got to my drivers room and we got in an argument. My mom tried to split us up and he slapped her so hard she fell over. I pushed him to get him to leave her alone and..."

Reina struggles to find the words and whatever she had gone through is a thousand times worse than Max could've ever expected.

"He grabbed me by the wrist, I grabbed a door to get away and he slammed it on my hand. Broke my metacarpal in two places, I needed surgery, so I never finished the season. Finished thirteenth."

Max is still. So still he's not even sure he's still breathing. Reina sniffles, and Max feels her tears hit the back of his hand.

"You don't wanna wear the brace because it takes you back." He says and Reina just lets out a soft hum. He doesn't know what to do. So, he does what Geri had done the few times she'd had to comfort him. One arm around her shoulders, the other on her head, and he pulls her taught to his chest to cradle her there.

The sob she lets out shatters his heart and he tries to pull her impossibly closer. They're flush to one another, theres no more space to close, but he still tries as Reina breaks and shatters in his hands like fine china. He attempts to piece her back together but there's not enough of him intact to repair her. Max, for his benefit, has dealt with Penelope's tired melt downs and so he gives Reina a waterbottle and wipes her tears, lays her down admist her blankets and tucks her in tightly. He sits on the floor by her face, running his fingers through her hair as best he can, gently running his thumb along her shoulder.

He can tell shes not just crying because she'd hit someone, but theres more to it. And an hour or so later, when the tears subside, she finally opens her heart to him.

"I hate my dad." She whispers after maybe five minutes of silence, no longer broken by her sniffles.

"I do too." Hate his dad? Hate hers? He's not sure. But he stands up to open her curtains and blinds, hands itching to do something rather than just sit silent. The noon sun warms the room almost instantly, and Reina lifts her head to shift into the sun. He turns and speaks as he bends down to pick up a stray bottle, "Why do you hate him?"

"Just... everything he put me and my mom through." Reina sighs, "There's a lot he did I can never forgive him for."

"What did he do?" Max sits down again and Reina reaches out to his hand, which he obliges, and she pokes at his fingers.

"When I was growing up, I started karting in Japan with my father. He wanted me to race rally cars since I was born, even with his obvious disappointment I wasn’t a son. I competed for the first time on my fifth birthday, and won. I got scouted that day and my dad completely changed. It went from a little hobby I could have to a future career, especially when my mother learned she was infertile after my birth." Reina speaks monotonously, eyes distant as she recalls, and though Max has read up on her past he knows he's getting a new raw look at her life.

"My dad finally got me in rally when I was ten, a year before the divorce. I did it for three years. The worst three years of my life." Reina shifts so she's laying on her back, looking up at the ceiling and avoiding Max's eyes, "everything that my father had just simply said became physical. Every single time I made a mistake, I was hit. Every time I talked back, ignored him, walked away, did anything he deemed to be incorrect, I was hit. Sometimes just a whack to the back of my head in annoyance, most of the time closed fists. The only thing I was allowed to do was race, extracurriculars, and school. And that includes sleeping, eating, showering, and such."

"On my thirteenth birthday, my mom came to visit us in Japan for a race I had in Fukushima. I finished second because of some dirty play and my dad was so angry at the company for not catching that, he took it out on me completely. My mom and her boyfriend at the time saw the entire thing, a huge fight broke out, the cops got called, it was a whole thing.

"My mom sued my dad for only my custody, no payment, nothing. And he dug his own hole, the court found out he was spending all the money my mom sent for me on himself, I had saved years of evidence... my mom ended up getting full custody without a challenge, and a payment that amounted to all her payments of child support and then two years worth of payments of my fathers child support in advance. That all happened around the time I switched to Formula racing. The entire time I've been racing Formula I've been living with my mom and my dad has been sending child support."

"When he got... aggressive with you, was it always physical?" Max hums and Reina shakes her head. Max slowly starts to undo one of the braids to redo it, trying to ignore the greasy feeling on his hands, and she leans into his touch so much he has to pause as he feels her face rest against his arm.

"No, it was just shouting until I got into rally and then every once and a while he’d hit me. And the most he did before I got into rally was slap me once when I was like, six? But it was mostly just him ignoring me or screaming at me, or making me race to exhaustion." Reina sighs as she then rolls to curl up against his side and Max adjusts so that he's half laying down with Reina curled up on his chest. It's similar to the way he'd gotten the youngest Horner kids to sleep when he'd visit or babysit over the years.

"My father is one of the worst people on the planet," Reina stares out the window. Max hums non-committedly, moving a little bit closer as Reina speaks in the most dead tone he's ever heard as she says, "and I have always been his favorite punching bag."

"I was my father's favorite too." Max admits and Reina nods.

"What was he like?"

"Just a lot more manipulative and way less physical. A lot of it was just him ignoring me, leaving me places, shouting at me, pressuring me. A lot of manipulation when I'd call him out on it." Max hums, finding the braid he'd half undone to fully pull it out. Reina grabs a brush off her nightstand and hands it to him so he can start to brush out her hair. It's weirdly remnant of Victoria and Penelope. Reina hums and as Max brushes out her hair, he feels the way her body relaxes.

“So did you pick me or did Red Bull?” Reina asks maybe five minutes later and Max hums, fingers finding loops of her hair to slowly braid it again. Practically hearing Geri’s voice instructing him on how to braid because it was ‘something good to know for Penelope.’ He was glad he had listened to her. It was a good thing to know.

“They told me I was gonna train you, then told me I was gonna train Ollie.” Max hums, “Ollie’s great but… I dunno. I just knew I should mentor you. Call it divine intervention but I knew.”

“Im glad you chose me.” Reina murmurs against the fabric of his hoodie and he realizes how odd this moment is. He’d packed up in thirty minutes, gotten on a two hour flight, and spent an hour coaxing his mentees trauma out so he can help her. He could’ve just said he was busy, and yet he’d already given so much of his heart to Hana and Reina he knew he couldn’t just abandon them. Reina needed him just as much as he needed her.

"I'm glad I did too. And... listen, Rei, you hitting this guy because he scared you doesn't make you an abuser." Max watches as Reina picks her head up, resting her chin on his sternum to watch him, "and Reina, you being afraid of being like your father tells me you will never be."

"But I just... I hit someone like he hit me and it was just an echo. He always told me I would grow up to be like him." Reina closes her eyes and Max takes a hand to cup her face, running his thumb along her wet undereyes.

"But you hit out of fear, not out of anger or with the intention of abusing someone, thats the thing that will never make you like him."

Reina nods, and Max knows it'll probably take him the whole week to convince her of that. But, as Reina lays her head back down with a soft thank you, he feels like he's done enough. Only twenty four hours ago he had Penelope sleeping on his chest. Now Reina’s in the same spot, her hand reaching out to cup the setting sun with her injured hand.

“Kintsugi.” She says softly, then sits up. Max watches her, head tilting as she moves to her closet and swings the door open. Grabbing a stool, she clambers up to the top shelf and starts rustling around. From his vantage point on the bed, Max can see deep scars running the inside of her leg and wonders briefly where they’re from before Reina settled back in front of him on the couch. She sees him looking and swallows, digging something out of a box from her closet.

“Also from my dad.” She says, eyes flickering up, “same day my mom was in Fukushima.”

“Ah.” Max nods, and lets Reina continue to rustle. He wants to ask questions, but he’s curious as to what she’s doing. She sets down her brace and a thing of gold paint and hands a brush to him.

“What is this?”

“Okay. It’s kinda stupid because this is no where close to what you’re supposed to do, but hear me out,” Reina raises her hands in defense. Max let’s her have the floor, he’s not gonna judge her.

“Kintsugi, it’s a Japanese art of repairing broken pottery or dishes or whatever with urushi lacquer mixed with powered gold or whatever and I don’t have lacquer and this isn’t technically broken but!” Reina pauses her rambling, chews her lip, and looks away from Max and to the window, “When I had my first hand brace, my Jiji—my grandmother, she painted it with this beautiful gold design. She told me it was my kintsugi. That I was broken, and that she was mending me. And… she’s always been my biggest support. Besides my mom, Jiji sacrificed so much for me, almost all her salary went to helping me get into F4 because my dad stopped helping me pay for racing until he started sponsoring me last year. And… Kintsugi is our thing. If she breaks anything she waits for me to fix it.”

There’s something hanging here, something so vulnerable, so Max asks with plenty of pause to show his trepidation, “Why did you give me the brush, then? Where’s Jiji?”

“In Washington.” Reina hums, “And… you… you’re a really big supporter to me. And you mean a lot to me, Max. I’ve only known you for half a year now but… you’ve helped me with a lot. And you sacrifice a lot for me. You flew all the way here to help me because my Mom asked. And don’t think Christian didn’t tell me about you trying to anonymously sponsor me.”

Max laughs softly, “Guilty as charged.”

“I want you to paint something on it. Anything. I have a—“ Reina starts to dig again, “a gold marker too. I do this all the time with things I break—like my phone cases or my hair ties. This is a whole bin of knockoff Kintsugi.”

She hands Max the marker and then rolls off to the side to curl back into her blankets, but rests her head on his thigh. Max sits and stares at the brace in his hand, rolling it around in his grasp as he thinks of what to write. There’s about a thousand things that ring through his head, and none he can settle on.

And then he gets an idea.

While Reina watches him focus, the golden light of the sun haloing him, she wonders briefly if she’s found her own form of Kintsugi in him. Sure they weren’t perfect, and both deeply troubled in their own right, traumas rooted deep within them, but they had each other and that was what they needed.

And Max knew he found Kintsugi in Reina.

Reina sits up when Max hands her the brace back, making an odd face when she sees its written in Dutch.

“laat u niet definiëren door uw naam. Do not be defined by your name.” Max says simply, and Reina looks up at him and tears prick in her eyes immediately. When Max helps her put it on, he adds a bit more gold flare to the boring black brace and smiles.

“Now you can wear it, yeah?” he says, and Reina leans up to wrap her arms taught around him. He laughs softly and hugs her back, letting her bury her face in the side of his neck.

If she sobs, he doesn’t comment, just lets her lay there until she’s run dry.

A week later, Max is unpacking in Monaco when he notices something new in his bag. He finds a small little keychain, a little blue ribbon tied to a clasp he knows he can snag on his keys. It’s in Japanese, but the note attached makes him smile a little watery smile.

‘Max,

Thank you. That’s all I can say. For everything you were supposed to help me with, and everything you chose to do on your own. I hope I can return the favor.

Reina.

ps. it says ‘do not be defined by your name.’ just like my brace,’

The keychain hangs off the zipper of his work jacket instead. And if anyone asks—and Yuki is the first to ask the meaning since he knows what it actually says, he simply smiles and says it’s a gift. No other explanation needed.

Except for when Geri asks, and he tells her the whole story, and then Christian ‘yells’ at him for making Geri cry.

reinamatsumoto made a new post!

liked by gerihorner, logansargeant, maxverstappen, and 458k others...

reinamatsumoto: [come back soon, big brother]!!

viewing translation from japanese

tagged: maxverstappen

misshanatanaka: [so sweet! glad having him by helped sweetheart!!]

user1: CAPTOIN HAS ME IN FUCKING TEARS

user2: MAX IS HER BROTHER !!!!!!

logansargeant: did our sushi date meaning NOTHING.

⤷ reinamatsumoto: GOD YOU WANT A POST FOR FUCKING SUSHI??

⤷ logansargeant: YES?

⤷ oscarpiastri: please rei he's pouting.

⤷ reinamatsumoto: fine. anything for my favorite white boys.

⤷ user6: my favorite prema survivors <3

user3: CRYING OVER HER CALLING MAX HER BROTHER. OH. IM SO NOT WELL.

user4: so are we gonna talk ab her punching a reporter? bc shes hot for that.

oscarpiastri: PERONI??? FOUL.

gerihorner: so so so cute!!!!!

⤷ reinamatsumoto: thanks mom!!!

⤷ maxverstappen: thanks mom

user5: logan crying in the comments is so real

yukitsunoda: [max is a big softie!]

⤷ reinamatsumoto: [I KNOW !!!]

taglist (thank you for your support!!)

@vellicora @justsomejess @struggling-with-delia

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