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#that got sort of angsty huh
yuri-is-online · 4 months
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Ace friend zoning himself is funny, especially since he's tried getting Yuu to share a bed with him before.
OK listen Ace does make some effort. He asks Yuu to share a bed not once, but TWICE, he goes over alone without Deuce to watch horror movies with them, and I still can't get over his line about leveling up making it easier to protect "a certain magicless someone :p"
But like. He could just be a really touchy, whiny friend. He's not an idiot, he knows he's just some guy and your... yuu. You mean everything to him but it's not like he means everything to you. In his mind he's competing with Malleus, your home world, all the other freshmen, and people he hasn't even met yet so why would you choose him? Sure he'd vote for himself in a heartbeat but... he isn't you. And as well as you know someone there's always room for error, what scares Ace more than seeing you with someone else is losing you completely.
So yeah. He's friendzoning himself. Because the person he is best at lying to has always been himself.
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liliacamethyst · 11 months
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So apologies if in advance this is in anyway triggering but I had an idea for a great angsty reveal and all I ask is to be heard out
It involves a miscarriage scare, not that it happens but the scare happens. Here’s the bare bones prompt:
During a mission Sun Spider (ie us) got really bad cramps and is of course terrified that she’s having a miscarriage. As soon as she’s able to she rushes to her place and sets up the ultrasound. (I was kinda thinking the reader were a doctor or nurse of sorts, or at least know another spider who is that would keep the secret.) She wanders the wand and begs that the baby is okay, finally breathing a sigh of relief when she hears the heartbeat and sees her tiny one. Unbeknownst to her Miguel had followed her….
Ahhh this is so angsty and good. Thank you so much Jesse! I thought it would be perfect to combine it with this comment by @fleeingdawn-blog1 :
"Imagine him being FURIOUS that you slept with someone else, the screaming and all the vitriol he would spit your way. Then the dawning horror when he slowly pieces it together and feels his world fall apart around him."
So, because you guys are amazing and have even more amazing ideas, here's another alternate reveal Drabble:
In the middle of an intense mission, you feel an agonizing pain in your lower abdomen. It's a sharp, cramping sensation that doubles you over and forcing you to stop in your tracks. You clutch your stomach, dread sinking in. No, it can't be... Please, no.
You have to leave. You have to get home.
Making some vague excuse to your fellow Spider-people, you swing off, all while trying to ignore the terror building up inside of you. “Please, please let my baby be okay,” you whisper to no one in particular. You had never prayed so hard.
You're careful as you swing, each movement precise so as to avoid jostling too much. As soon as you reach your apartment you rush inside, immediately heading to the hidden medical room you've set up.
You're not a doctor, but you're resourceful. You had to be. You had to protect your baby.
Setting up the ultrasound, your hands tremble with anxiety. You take deep breaths, trying to stay calm for the sake of your unborn child. Picking up the device, you slowly move it across your belly, your eyes glued to the screen, your ears straining to hear that precious heartbeat.
And then you see it. The tiny flicker on the screen, the reassuring beat that echoes through the room. Your baby is alive. The relief washes over you like a wave, tears prickling your eyes. You breathe out a shaky laugh, one hand coming up to cover your mouth.
"You're okay... oh, thank god, you're okay," you whisper, tears streaming down your face. You continue to stare at the screen, memorizing every curve, every line of your tiny baby. You're so wrapped up in your relief and joy, you don't hear the door creak open.
Miguel, who had silently followed you, leaning heavily against the doorframe. He's staring at you, at the screen, at the clear image of your unborn child.
As Miguel’s gaze moves between the ultrasound screen and you, something inside him snaps. His face contorts, his nostrils flare, and his eyes flash with a fury you have never seen before, turning even more red than usual.
“What is this?! Who is he?!” Miguel’s voice fills the room as he points toward the screen.
“Miguel...” you start, but he cuts you off, his voice now a roar.
“WHO’S IS HE? DIME!” Miguel’s words are like knives, slashing through the air.
You’re cowering back, tears streaming down your face. “Mi... Miguel, please, just...”
“WHO ARE YOU SLEEPING WITH, HUH?” He's practically spitting the words at you, venom dripping from every syllable.
“HOW COULD YOU DO THIS TO ME?!” he bellows. His eyes are wild, his rage all-consuming.
“I... I didn’t... you...” You’re stuttering, trying to get the words out, trying to tell him the truth, but his anger is like a tidal wave, overwhelming you.
And then just like that, in the midst of his rage something changes. His gaze flicks to the ultrasound screen again, and his face goes pale. The room is deathly silent except for your ragged breathing and the rhythmic beating of the baby's heart on the ultrasound monitor.
He blinks. Once. Twice. His voice drops to a whisper. “How... how far along...?”
“Three months,” you manage to whisper back, choking on your tears.
His brain races, the timeline whirring in his head. Realization dawns on him like a cold sunrise.
“Is it...?” His voice is barely audible, a ghost of its former fury.
You nod, tears streaming down your face. “Yes, Miguel. It’s yours.”
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ecoamerica · 30 days
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youtube
Watch the 2024 American Climate Leadership Awards for High School Students now: https://youtu.be/5C-bb9PoRLc
The recording is now available on ecoAmerica's YouTube channel for viewers to be inspired by student climate leaders! Join Aishah-Nyeta Brown & Jerome Foster II and be inspired by student climate leaders as we recognize the High School Student finalists. Watch now to find out which student received the $25,000 grand prize and top recognition!
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lilgoblinbitch · 27 days
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Gossip 𓂃 ࣪˖ ִֶָ𐀔
rick grimes x fem!reader
a/n: i based this fic on this post here! i might make a part 2 because i have some ideas in the back of my head of how i think this story could end up going eventually, but idk if i will write it yet. we'll see! also i made up the two random alexandrians in this story :)
summary: rick overhears you and some alexandrian women gossiping, and he decides to confront you.
warnings: 18+, alcohol consumption (reader gets drunk).
wc: 1.5k
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“Spencer does not like me, I don’t know what you’re talking about,” You scoffed, taking another sip of the pinot. This was your second glass, and your head was starting to buzz.
Two Alexandrian women became well acquainted with you, offering you a bottle of wine and some dinner after your first week in Alexandria. You decided “why the hell not.” You never really had great friends before the apocalypse and the only ones you had were the group you came in with, so it wouldn’t harm you to make more.
“Oh honey, did you not notice the way he was ogling you at Deanna’s party?” One of them asked — her name was Shannon. The other woman, Vivian, slightly chuckled, taking one last swig from her glass. She nodded, muttering something in agreement.
You sighed. “Even if he was checking me out, it’s not like I care anyway...”
The two women paused simultaneously, looking up at you with ‘bitch, HUH?’ written on their faces. “Y/n, Spencer is a beautiful man! He’s tall, handsome, and he’s around your age I believe,” Vivian gushed. You scowled, displeased at the comment.
You took another gulp from your glass, emptying the contents down your gullet and then setting it on the kitchen island. After licking your lips clean, you said, “Well, frankly, I don't really care if I’m being quite honest.” Your mind swirled with inebriated thoughts; you sort of had a love-hate relationship when it came to alcohol — it either made you perfectly giddy and sociable or very angsty and erratic. But that’s what it did to most people, anyway. Right now, it was making you angsty. “I have someone else on my mind.”
“Oh, my! Okay, who is it?” Shannon asked, her and Vivian both on the edge of their chairs anticipating what you were about to say — well, what they expected you to tell them, that is.
You thought for a moment; should you tell them? It seemed like they lived for that kind of gossip. But that could mean that they might spill your secret, and you weren't exactly ready for that. “I’ll tell you another time. I’m tired, gonna head to bed,” you stated, yawning as you got up from the stool you were seated on. The two women groaned in disappointment, like children who failed to convince their parents to take them to disney world.
After your friends left you strutted out of the kitchen, about to head upstairs when you heard a door open and shut. Instinctively you ran back to the kitchen to grab a knife to defend yourself from a possible intruder or walker, but before you could your body collided with something, or rather someone.
You cursed and looked up at the culprit; it was none other than Rick Grimes. “Rick, what the fuck! I could have stabbed you!” You scolded him, picking up the knife that clattered on the ground. 
“You forget we live together?” He teased, taking a step back to get a good look at you. Your eyes were glassy and eyelids heavy — a telltale sign that you were drunk. Rick had experience pulling over a few drunkards back in his day as a cop, so he knew immediately without even having to smell the alcohol oozing from your breath that you weren’t sober.
You pushed a strand of hair out of your face, swallowing the excess saliva forming in your mouth. You mentally scolded yourself for drooling over a man, but this one was just too beautiful to not gawk at. The sound of Rick clearing his throat snapped you out of your trance and brought you back to reality. “No, no. I didn’t forget. I just…”
“You’re just drunk, right?” He chuckled, turning his head to look at the empty bottle of wine sitting on the dining room table. You rolled your eyes, taking a bite of your lip while trying to think of a plausible excuse. 
“Look, I only had two glasses. Shannon and Vivian from a few houses down brought us a casserole and some pinot. Girls’ night. Sue me, Rick.” You slipped past him and headed to the kitchen, Rick hot on your tail. “There’s leftovers in the fridge, if you or Carl want any,” You said without turning around. When you got to the kitchen sink you started washing the dishes, but you frowned slightly, looking back up at Rick with worrying eyes. 
“Shit. Did I wake the kids? Is that why you’re down here?” You turned off the faucet, wiping your hands hastily on a dry towel. 
Rick shook his head. “No. Only I heard you. But you weren’t very quiet, and when I heard them leave that’s when I came down here,” he explained, leaning against the kitchen counter.
Your heart picked up its pace. ‘How much did he hear?’ You wondered. You pursed your lips and your eyes floated around the room, quite obviously avoiding his intense stare. He made you nervous. That sheriff always made you nervous, and part of the reason was because you were so utterly attracted to him. 
Finally you brought your eyes back to his icy ones, which were studying your body. You blushed and bit your lip again — it was a nervous habit you could never seem to break. “You got a stain–” Rick pointed to the red stain on your shirt, just below your breasts, “Right there.”
You looked down at the stain, it was wine — dark red wine, at that. And you were wearing a white tank top. How convenient.
You looked back up at him, snorting in slight amusement. “Guess I shouldn’t have worn white, huh?”
He let out a low chuckle, showcasing his pearly smile. God, he was pretty. “Thought you knew better than that, Y/n,” he joked, standing back up fully to make his way over to you. Okay, now your heart was really beating fast. 
When he was finally in front of you, face to face, you gulped. He smelled like the forest after a rainshower, and somehow he always did; it engulfed you like a tsunami. You berated yourself for getting so worked up over the smell of him, and just him in general. He was your leader, your friend. And he asked you to live with him and his children because he trusted you. Why were you acting like a cat in heat? ‘It’s the alcohol’, you convinced your mind, it had to be…
The silence was too loud. You had no idea what Rick was thinking right now; frankly, you never did. His poker face was always unreadable. But your tipsy brain gained a few confidence points, letting smugness wash over you.
“Whatcha thinking about, Grimes?” You shifted your weight to one leg and batted your lashes at the man in front of you. He only grinned, then glanced away momentarily only to stare back into your eyes. 
“Y’know, I overheard the conversation,” Rick started, his chest steadily moving up and down as he breathed. One of his hands gripped the counter while the other was glued to his hip. Your eyes trailed up and down his tanned veiny arms, taking in his manliness.
“Mhm. And?” You kept your composure, not wanting to let Rick taunt you; you knew you talked pretty loud when you were tipsy or drunk but it’s not like you said anything negative about him or anyone.
“You girls like to gossip, huh?”
“Well, yeah. We’re women,” you joked, cracking a smile and trying to ease the tension a bit. “What are you trying to get at?” Rick never bothered to indulge in any girl gossip you, Rosita, and Maggie used to partake in, so why was he so invested now?
Little did you know, he was always invested in literally anything you had to say.
Rick licked his lips and exhaled through his nose. “Heard you talking about liking someone. Is it anyone I know?”
He smirked when he noticed how red you turned. Your face would have matched the stain on your shirt if it was a few shades darker. “I– I don’t…” Of course now was the time to choke on your words, right when you were using every fiber of your being to keep your poise in check. But goddamnit, Rick just had to be a sly and cocky bastard.
“I don’t remember even saying anything about that, Rick.”
His smirk never faded. You wanted to slap it off his face, then kiss the hell out of him. 
He tilted his head to the side a bit, furrowing his brows as if to challenge your statement. “Really?”
You nodded and crossed your arms right over the stain. ‘Deny, deny, deny,’ You repeated in your head.
But he didn’t buy your bullshit. He brought his hand to your cheek, fingers barely grazing your skin as if he was afraid he’d scare you away. Your breath hitched in your throat and subsequently dropped your arms to your sides, separating your lips to say something. However, nothing came out.
“Well, I think I know your secret, Y/n. Answer seems pretty clear to me.” His voice almost came out as a growl from how low and raspy it was. Goosebumps awakened all across the surface of your body. You were tongue tied. 
“I’m the one on your mind, aren’t I?”
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ineffablywriting · 1 year
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to love someone
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Summary: an angsty one shot of one too many broken promises that leads to a broken heart or two
Word count: 2.8K
Warnings: angst, angst and more angst
Harry grinned to himself as he stepped out of the recording booth. 
“That’s the one,” he told Jeff, his heart racing with adrenaline at the prospect of a finished album. “I swear, this one’s the Grammy winner, Jeff,” he sighed, collapsing onto the sofa beside his manager. 
He’d rung Jeff and got his team together a couple hours ago when he’d been unable to get a melody out of his mind. He’d quickly scribbled together some lyrics on a scrap piece of paper he’d found lying around his apartment and rushed to the studio he had on retainer and worked nonstop for the last three hours getting the song together. And it was perfect - not to toot his own horn. 
“You just might be right on that one, H,” Jeff’s smile was almost as wide as Harry’s as they congratulated each other. “We need to celebrate properly,” he pulled out his phone and started to text people. “I’m thinking a party to commemorate the day our very own Harry Styles finished his second album.”
“An award winning album,” Harry joked, closing his eyes and lounging back in his seat with his hands behind his head. 
It felt like a weight had lifted off his chest. He’d been stuck in the worst sort of writer's block for the last couple of weeks, unable to even step foot inside a studio or pick up a pen. It had made him almost unbearable to be around. But now it was done and Harry could breathe again. 
He let a small smile perk up his lips as basked in the peacefulness that only a completed song - a perfect song - could bring him. 
He doesn’t know how long he stayed like that before the doors opened again. He sat up, a smile still fixed firmly on his face, expecting Jeff to walk through the doors. When he saw Nick’s gangly figure walking in instead his smile grew even bigger. 
“Grimmy, I did it!” he called out, standing up to give him a hug. 
“Finally finished the album, huh?” he lifted a fond brow, giving Harry an equally fierce and excited hug. 
“Yup,” he puffed out his chest proudly. 
“Congrats, Haz,” Nick patted him on the shoulder, glancing around the room searching for someone. 
“Jeff’s in another room organising a party,” Harry explained, letting himself fall back into the lounge. 
But Nick shook his head. “I’m looking for your better half,” he turned back to Harry curiously. “I thought for sure she’d be here with you, being disgustingly cute as always,” he joked. 
Harry’s face fell instantly. “Fuck.”
“What?” Nick frowned at him, watching the colour drain from Harry’s face. 
“Fuck, fuck, fuck!” he cursed, scrambling around and looking for his phone. He’d switched it off and thrown it to the side as soon as he’d entered the studio not wanting to get distracted by anything. “I fucked up,” he looked up at Nick in a panic while his phone rebooted. “What time is it?”
“What did you do?” Nick asked, the smile dropping from his own lips as he looked down at his watch and answered. “Just after 10pm.” 
“Can you please call her for me?” he asked, getting frustrated at how long it was taking for his phone to switch back on. 
“Call her? Isn’t she here with you?”
“I wouldn’t be so fucking stressed if she was, would I?” he glared at Nick, finally able to unlock his phone and open up y/n’s contact information and hit call. 
“You didn’t pick her up?” Nick asked, disapproval rich in his voice. 
“I forgot!” Harry pulled the phone away from her ear and redialled her number again. “She’s not answering,” he frowned worriedly.
“You forgot.” Nick stated, unsure what else to say. “How could you forget?” 
“I don’t know! I was so focused on finishing this album. I haven’t been able to write anything for weeks, you know this. It was only going to be a quick stop and then I was gonna leave and head straight to the hospital. Fuck. She’s still not picking up,” he looked at his phone worriedly, scrolling through all the missed texts he hadn't read and all the calls that had gone straight to voicemail because he’d had his phone off. “What do I do?”
Nick didn’t know what to say. He felt for his friend but he also knew that he deserved to feel this bad for leaving y/n waiting for him so long in the dark. 
“Can you call her?” Harry asked him, his green eyes wide with worry. “She might answer you,” he pleaded and Nick didn’t have it in him to deny the request. Besides, he was just as worried for her at that moment. The hospital she worked at wasn’t exactly in the safest part of town and y/n always hated finishing after dark. 
She answered him after a few rings and he let out a relieved breath until he heard her hiccup on the other end of the line. “Babe?” he asked quietly, voice soft over the phone. “You ok?” 
“N-no,” she told him, honestly. “Not really.” 
Nick took a step away from Harry when he reached for the phone, trying to take it off him and speak to his girl. He’d obviously heard her voice on the other end of the line and hadn’t liked what he’d listened in on. He followed Nick. “Gimme the phone, Grimmy,” he hissed, once again trying to reach for the mobile device. His worry was growing with every second he spent not in contact with y/n. 
Piss off, Nick mouthed at Harry and moved further away. 
But Harry continued to follow. How could he not? He could clearly hear his girl crying on the phone and he knew it was all his fault. 
“Hey, love,” Nick said to her softly, rolling his eyes at Harry. “Harold wants to talk to you.” 
“No,” he voice was firm this time, losing the hiccups and stuttering but not the sadness. “I don’t want to talk to him right now. I don’t think I’ll want to talk to him for a long time.” 
“Y/n…,” Nick began, turning away from Harry when he saw his friend flinch and lowered his voice as he once again tried to move away. This time Harry kept his distance. “You don’t mean that.” 
“I do,” she said firmly. “I mean it very much.” 
“Y/n, are you drunk?” Nick asked suddenly as she hiccuped again, this time a slight slur to her words. 
“Nooooo,” she extended the word and that was all the confirmation he needed. 
“Y/n, where are you?” He asked suddenly, hoping she’d say she was at home in the apartment she and Harry shared. 
“Dunno,” she said instead, no real worry in her words. 
“What do you mean, you don’t know?” Nick asked her a little more urgently, glancing over at Harry. He was frowning, his chest rising and falling in quick breaths the way it always did when he was worried or stressed. 
“Give me the phone, Nick,” Harry spoke through his teeth, holding out a hand for the phone. 
Wait, Nick mouthed at Harry knowing if he handed over the phone now, y/n would just hang up. 
“Y/n,” he spoke gently down the phone, slowing his words into a soothing drawl. “You need to tell me where you are and who you’re with so I can come and get you, yeah?” 
“No,” she said stubbornly, and now that Nick was listening carefully, he could hear cars driving by in the background and imagined she was stumbling around outside, drunk and alone. He knew Harry was thinking the same as his fists were curled up beside him and his cheeks had turned pink. He was angry now, but his eyes gave away his worry. “I don’t wanna go home. I don’t wanna see Ha-him.” 
“Aww, come on, love. Don’t be like that,” Nick soothed, while Harry flinched back at y/n’s tone. She hadn’t even been able to say his name. “He got distracted finishing his album, he didn’t mean anything by it. I'm sure it won’t happen again.”  
“‘At’s what he said last time,” she said, this time her voice soft and filled with hurt. “Last time and the time before and the time before that. He always forgets everything.” 
“I’m sure that’s not true,” Nick replied, doubtfully looking over at Harry. 
“It is true. Ask him. He’s there with you listening to everything. Ask him where he was on our second anniversary and his birthday dinner last year that I begged to take time off work for. Ask him where he was when I graduated and what he was doing when I asked him to come to my work’s Christmas party last year. He’s always late or doesn’t show up at all. I waited for him for an hour today before I gave up and Kiera invited me out for drinks,” she paused and took a deep breath, letting out a scoff before she spoke again. “I bet he doesn’t even know who that is. You know he never asks me about my day unless I ask him about his first. He doesn’t ask me anything about who I spent my time with or what I did that day. All he talks about is the song he wrote and how good or bad it was, about how Mitch and Sarah did something so talented I missed out on a magical moment, about how he’s going on tour soon and didn’t even ask me if I could come with him.”
“Harry?” Nick quizzed, looking over at his friend. “Tell me she’s exaggerating.” 
But Harry shook his head. He hadn’t realised how far down his list of priorities y/n had fallen until he’d heard her drunk, broken voice over the phone. He’d stood her up on their anniversary that year, having had a long day of meetings with his management, he’d gone straight home and fallen asleep in his suit. He’d woken up to y/n walking into their bedroom, heels in her hands and a small, sad smile on her face. She’d stroked his head and asked him if he’d had a long day and he’d nodded, told her she looked nice and how he hoped she’d had a good time at whatever event she’d been at. Y/n’s smile had tightened and she’d just urged him to go back to sleep and get some rest. He hadn’t even realised it had been their anniversary until a few days later when Gemma had asked him what he’d gotten her. 
He’d seen in her eyes how hurt she’d been when he’d finally given her a present, but it had been too late. He’d known it then and swore he’d never mess up so badly again. 
But he had. 
Over and over again. 
She was right. He’d missed almost every single milestone in her life and she’d never missed a single one of his. 
He’d been taking her for granted for so long, he’d just assumed she’d leave her job behind and come on tour with him indefinitely, even though he knew how hard she’d worked to get to where she was. He was so proud of her, and he didn’t think she even knew that, because she was right. 
He’d shown up late to her graduation, hadn’t met any of her colleagues or attended any of her work events, even after she’d asked him over and over again - he’d always promised her next time, but next time never came and eventually she’d stopped asking. He didn’t even remember the last time he’d asked her about her life. 
“Fuck,” he cursed, running his hands through his hair in distress. He was worried and guilty and all he wanted was for y/n to be next to him, her cute little smile on her face as they cuddled so closely they may as well have been glued together. 
He grabbed the phone from Nick’s hands before he could move it away again, holding it close to his ear and dancing away from his friend as he spoke down the line. “I’m so, so sorry, Sweets,” he said gently. “I’ll make it up to you, I swear.” He prayed she believed him.
There was no response on the other end of the line, just some heavy breathing and in his mind’s eye, Harry could just see his girl taking deep breaths to try and keep herself from crying, to try and keep herself calm. It was something she’d done from the very first time they’d had a fight and he’d seen her cry. He’d hated seeing it then and he hated hearing it even more now. Especially when he heard her sniffle quietly, as though she’d moved the phone away to try and hide her tears from him. 
“Please don’t cry,” he begged her anyway when still no reply had come through, but Harry was hopeful that she hadn’t hung up the phone yet like she’d promised she would. “I hate it when you cry.” He didn’t mention how much worse it was when he was the reason she cried this way. 
“I don’t want to talk to you right now, Ha-Harry,” she sighed. “Give the phone ba-back to Grimmy.” 
“No,” he said firmly, clenching his teeth and pacing back and forth while his other hand brushed through his hair trying to shake out some of the tension in his limbs. “No,” he repeated more gently this time. “Please, just tell me where you are so I can come and get you?” I just want to make sure you’re safe, he thought to himself. 
“Don’t wanna see you. Why can’t you just leave me alone when I want you to? You haven’t been around for weeks and now you want to pretend to care?” she asked him harshly. 
Harry squeezed his eyes shut as his shoulders hunched inwards. He’d had his heart broken before, but never had it felt so painful before; as though he’d never be able to put himself back together again. “I know I haven’t been the best boyfriend lately. I know I’ve been forgetful and neglected you. I know. But please, Sweets, can we just talk face to face? Please, just - just let Grimmy pick you up.”
Y/n was silent on the other end of the line for a couple of heartbeats before she let out a choked sob. “You forgot me,” she murmured. “You didn’t answer any of my phone calls or texts. You didn’t even - sometimes it feels like you don’t love me anymore,” she admitted. “Sometimes it feels like you’re only with me because it’s easier than breaking up.” 
“That’s not - no. Y/n, no. You can’t believe that. You can’t think that. You know - you have to know that’s not true,” Harry implored, stopping his pacing in the middle of the room. He looked completely lost, as though just the idea of not having y/n around made him question his place in the world. 
“Please give the phone to Grimmy, Harry,” y/n finally said. “I’ll tell him where I am. I - I think I want to stay with him tonight. Please don’t come over,” she said. “I really don’t want to talk anymore tonight. I have a headache and I’m tired.” 
Harry took in and let out a shaky breath, handing the phone back over to Nick. “Here,” he said, walking back over to the couch dejectedly and falling into it. It was a big contrast to the way he’d collapsed into it earlier with all the joy of a completed album sitting like a crown on his head. Now his whole world was falling apart in front of him. 
He thought of the rings he’d been looking at. He thought of all the times he’d walked past a jewellery store and itched to walk out with an engagement ring. He thought of all their friends who were having kids and how the only person he could see himself having a family with was y/n. And he thought about how everything was being snatched out from under him because he’d been so selfish the last couple of months. How he’d been growing more and more selfish over the last year of their relationship. 
He had to fix this. 
He didn’t know how, but he would fix this. 
“I’m gonna go get her,” Nick spoke softly, tapping Harry on the shoulder. “You should get home and get some rest too,” he told him. 
“I’m going to fix this,” Harry said to Nick, desperation thick in his words.
“I know you will, mate. I know you will,” Nick ruffled his hair fondly and walked out the room, leaving Harry sitting dejectedly on the couch. 
-
Hellooooo, please let me know what ya'll think. I would LOVE some feedback <3
My requests are also open
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daylite-writes · 4 months
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Ayo ayo!!! I got an angsty idea for ya!!
Imagine this:
The harbingers find out that the reader has a plot to kill them/the Tsaritsa. How does this go? How do they react?
And for even more angst;
Imagine if they were successful
(Songbird anon- New anon)
OKAY OKAY OKAY I LIKE THIS (also hi ur my first named anon!). I won’t be doing “if you succeed in killing them”, since they’re dead and therefore won’t have a reaction lmao. I also won’t be doing every Harbinger here because that’s so many words omg. Probably will have multiple parts if ppl are interested.
Wasn’t sure if the ask was meant to be yandere, but this kinda is lmao. To varying degrees for each. Didn’t go too hard on angst but oh well
HARBINGERS REACT TO READER ATTEMPTING TO KILL THEM OR TSARITSA—AND IF YOU SUCCEED? (Pt 1, ft. Childe, Dottore, Arlecchino, Scaramouche)
cw: yandere, violence, referenced death, implied kidnapping, death of reader (in Arlecchino’s), etc.
Childe - mixed results
If you attempt to kill him? Oh baby. He lives for this shit. If you are strong enough to even get close? Well, his heavy panting, wide eyes, and red cheeks convey his feelings easily. If he wins the interaction, overpowering you and forcing you to the ground, he won’t kill you. He’ll probably let you up, let you try again—come onnn. Don’t tell him you can’t continue. You wanted this, baby. Try again. If you escape unscaved, then by god he’ll be thinking about this for weeks. Blushing, refusing to wrap the scars you give him.
If you attempt to kill the Tsaritsa, Child takes it very, very badly. One thing people forget about this man is he is not loyal to the harbingers, but he is extremely loyal to the Tsaritsa. Sentient abyssal creatures tend to latch onto an idea, a “purpose” of sorts that they will hinge their entire sanity on. Without her guidance he is nothing. He will fight tooth and bone to squash any attempts you make on her life. He takes on his Foul Legacy form to fight you, and in his anger, would end up either maiming or ending you. If you survive, he will make sure it never happens again (Read: mangling you). You just had to ruin a good thing, huh baby?
Succeed in killing the Tsaritsa? He’s either killing you, or dying trying. There is no way you’d both survive.
Dottore - Takes it pretty well
Attempt to kill him? How annoying. If it’s a physical attack, he’ll simply thwart it, pinning you down, tossing you in an observation cell, or sedating you. After, he’ll probably just reduce your privileges—less access to the lab, no longer allowed to go out without him. Be a brat, and he’ll put you on a leash no problem.
But… if you're clever about it? If you're slipping poison into his coffee, or setting up traps around his lab, only to greet him at dinner with only a strained smile when it fails? How fun. He’ll let it continue until he’s bored of it, ignoring your attempts. Honestly; it’s a little cute. He’s blushing a little bit you can’t tell with his mask.
Attempt to kill the Tsaritsa? He’ll stop you. Weirdly enough, he’ll only really punish you if the Harbingers or the Tsaritsa herself noticed. Otherwise, he’ll chastise you, leading you back to his lab with his thin, sharp fingers digging into the back of your neck.
Succeed in killing the Tsaritsa? Well… damn. You gonna eat that? He’s kinda turned on. This isn’t a dealbreaker for him, unless it really messes with his plans, in which case he’ll punish you for it later. An easy way to get out of trouble with him is to just gift him the Tsaritsa’s corpse. So thoughtful! He’s never had the opportunity to play around with the remains of an archon. Hm? What about overthrowing Celestia? He’s the second of the fatui harbingers, on the power level of a god, they’ll figure it out.
Arlecchino - takes it badly
Try and kill her? Her eyes sharpen as she evaluates you, panting heavily and on your knees. You’ve proven yourself a traitor, and a bold one at that. Something so bold, to her, indicates you are not an independently acting force. There are others you work for or with. After a moment, her face softens. “I’m hurt” she says, voice raw, “But I love you. Leave and never return.” You take the chance. You have to.
It’s a trap. Her subordinates—handpicked by her—are trailing you, stalking you. The moment your guard drops and you meet with your associates, she’s got you again.
The last thing you see are her boots, languidly walking towards you. The last thing you hear is her voice, barely cutting through the screams of your co-workers. “I suppose I should kill you. It’d be fair. But I am… selfish. Don’t worry, darling, you won’t go unpunished. This will be a fate worse than death.” The last thing you feel is her claws, carding through your hair.
Try to kill the Tsaritsa? You’re called into her office with little explanation what for. Usually, it’s empty. But there are Fatui by the doors. Scattered over her desk, is the proof of your sins. An attack against the highest of the Fatui. You can’t see it, but her heart is quick, and her throat tight. She opens her mouth to speak, baring her teeth, too white, too sharp. Her voice trembles a bit, almost minutely. “You understand what this means? What the collapse of the Fatui would mean for me? For my children? And still…”
It’s a death sentence. She speaks it once, lifting her hand to signal her children to step forward. She doesn’t do the job herself, leaving the room, letting the heavy wooden slam behind her.
Kill the Tsaritsa? She’s not there at the time. Still in Fontaine while your plan gets carried out in Snezhnaya. When she gets the news, she freezes. Hardly a few weeks ago, she found the will to break character for a moment to press a kiss to your cheek before you set out on the voyage north. She ignites the page as soon as she’s done, storming to her private quarters.
Later, when she collects herself, she’d set her assassins out, correspond with any remaining harbingers, and lay out a plan for the future. For one, painful night though, she mourns.
Scaramouche - Manipulatable
Try kill him? Oh god. The monologue. You almost wished he just killed you in response. The “fourth betrayal, at the hand of his lover, cruelest of them all—” it’s a long tangent, and your body hurts from the binds. Don’t tune it out though, because the moment he notices, a jolt of electricity tears through your body. His face darkens at your scream. How dare you ignore him—he probably won’t kill you, but your leash shortens considerably.
Whether you kill the Tsaritsa, or plan to kill the Tsaritsa it’s roughly the same response. It all depends on how you treat him after. Suck up, apologizing again and again, creeping closer and closer, until you climb on his lap, whispering how you only have eyes for him. You love him. So much. Press a kiss to his cold, doll-like cheek. Say after it was all done, you were going to run away with him—it’s your best shot. He may just stow you away, somewhere where his coworkers can’t get to you. He’d keep you to himself and tell everyone he disposed of you.
If you’re unapologetic, making it clear you didn’t care for him, he’d freak the fuck out. A very dangerous temper tantrum. At the end of it, you’re hardly conscious, laying on soft blankets, body throbbing in pain, you wince when you try to move. A hand, porcelain and cold, drags you down. Stay still, he says. You’ve been an idiot and gotten yourself mangled. By him, yeah. He couldn’t bring himself to kill you though.
~~~
So… much… and i didn’t even get half of themmm aaaaa
Anyways I really enjoyed this ask, but doing something for all of the harbingers is a lot, plus this is a side blog and I’m 6k works deep in a main blog project, bleh.
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for the love of ... bob? - jake seresin x reader (2/2)
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Summary: Being Jake's (best) friend - sorry, Javy - proved to have its ups and downs but there was something about having him in your corner you couldn't resist. Jake and you just clicked on a deeper level. That's why you didn't get it when the Southern boy was acting so weird.
Word count: 6.9k
Warnings: Jealous! + Soft!Jake, fluff, language, kinda angsty, kinda mean!Jake
Author’s note: I haven't seen Anyone but You (I just get the icky when I see two blondes on screen), so I took Glen's sentiment that he's not the best singer 🤷🏻‍♀️ Is it obvious yet that I really like Lewis/Bob? 😏 Who knew that I would write a Jake story and have Bob's name mentioned soooooo many times to get Jake to freak out? This chapter made me realize ... maybe I'm not good with painting a scene when I feel more comfortable just writing the banter/dialogue because at times I'm just more "clinical" when it comes to narration and I just want to get to the point. 😅
No words can describe how much everyone's reactions moved me. Especially how so many people reblogged this fic. Keep on doing what you're doing, guys! 😘
Chapter Summary: Y/N is an absolute mastermind, but Natasha is one too. Bob is an absolute sweetheart (nothing new to see here).
Tagging: @mellowstatesmanhandsempath @ravenmoore14 @blackmagicwoman @silenthappyplace @mrsevans90 @dempy @arcxnxm @hookslove1592 @djs8891
Read me on AO3
~Jake POV~
“Special delivery for Floyd.”
Maverick showed up in the break room. And, without further ado, dropped a Tupperware container on the table where Bob was sitting. Bob looked up curiously. “Huh, okay…”
Jake was sitting with the rest of the Dagger Squad on base, when his mouth hovered over his sandwich, about to take a bite.
“Y/N dropped it off at Penny’s,” Captain Mitchell explained.
At the mention of your name, Jake frowned before turning his head to inspect what Maverick just delivered.
“Oh, Bob is climbing the racks of popular guys around here,” Natasha teased. “Let me see.” She reached for the piece of paper taped on the cover.
Despite Bob’s efforts to stop her, Natasha’s actions were too swift. He observed Jake with uncertainty.
Natasha narrated the post-it, “Just a small piece of Montana so you can feel more at home, Bob. Only meant for sharing when the others have done something nice for you,” she paused. “Woah, this can be tough for some people. P.S. I’ll be your Huckleberry. Y/N. That’s cute. And then there’s some sort of smiley face.”
Bob snorted before revealing the insides of the Tupperware. The smell of dessert reached their nostrils. It left a speechless Bob behind. He smiled fondly. “Oh, … it’s Huckleberry Buckle.”
The rest of the crew groaned in delight.
“Bob, my friend,” Bradley leaned down, to drape his arm over his shoulder, “you do know that I held the door open for you this morning.”
Bob chuckled. “Just dig in, y’all. If you want some, just grab a plate and a fork.”
This was the signal for most of the Dagger Squad to spring into action.
“Don’t be animals. One for plates and one for forks,” Javy reminded them.
With sentimental eyes, Jake took another glance at the freshly baked dessert. He cleared his throat. “That’s Y/N for you. Baking stuff is Y/N’s love language,” he explained before watching Bob out of the corner of his eye while everyone dug in.
Bob took his ringing phone from out of his pocket. “Hey, yes, I—we just got it. You just made everyone’s day, I think.”
The Dagger Squad echoed with their mouths full, “We love you, Y/N! Love—love you!”
Jake intensely watched Bob while he munched on the pastry, desperately wanting to know what you two were talking about.
“You want me to—really? Did you mention that to-” Bob’s gaze met Jake’s. Once he already found him already staring at him, Bob meekly averted his eyes. “Um, yeah, sure. Hangman, it’s for you,” he said, giving him the phone.
Jake put a smile on his face when he spoke with a gravelly voice. “Hello, stranger.”
He heard you on the other end exhale. “Has anyone ever told you that you got a really sultry voice?”
Jake inhaled deeply and instantly regretted it. Choking on a crumb, Jake coughed to clear his throat. He felt his skin heat up, either your words or the chocking hazard was getting to him. “Uhm, okay?” He phrased as a question. “Not under these circumstances, no.” For good measure, he took a huge gulp of water.
“Have you asked them yet? You know, the karaoke thing?”
“No?”
Jake could basically feel you vibrating through the phone.
“Well, are you gonna? Time is of the essence.”
“Why are you so adamant to get it done this quickly?” He asked, taking another bite.
You stammered, “I need to—I just do. Aren’t we best friends?”
Jake laughed at your faltering attempt to get your way. “Of course, we are.”
“Then it’s your responsibility to make me get to know your colleagues, no questions asked. Maybe I could make you look good, huh?” Now your insistence for this event kinda made more sense.
He exhaled, “Guys, want to do karaoke night with Y/N?”
The Dagger Squad made whoops of agreement.
“You heard that? You really know how to work the crowd, don’t you?”
“What can I say? I have to make use of my strengths.”
Jake shook his head. “I can tell.”
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“Now I know why we never did karaoke together,” Natasha mused before knocking back a drink of tequila.
“What?” Jake was still smiling widely when he stepped off stage.
“That was horrendous to watch. And I’m not even talking about what we were just forced to listen to.”
He rolled his eyes at her dig. “Come on, you’re just being mean. Y/N, hey, tell them.” Jake widened his arms, expecting you to snuggle up to his chest.
As if reading his mind, you stepped into his arms. Almost like you were keeping him in suspense, you licked your lips and patted his chest consolingly. “You looked really handsome up there on stage.”
“See?” Jake looked around to challenge his witnesses before realization hit him. He followed you as you stepped away from him. “Wait, what?”
Any disappointed feelings evaporated within him when Jake sat next to you on the couch which oversaw the karaoke stage and spoke softly, “You having fun?”
You leaned against his side, feeling content with just doing your familiar tradition. “You know I do. Thanks for being such a good sport about this.”
“You mean for me being such a horrible singer?”
“You’re tolerable,” you said soothingly and stroked the back of his neck.
“Gee, thanks.”
You nudged your head against his shoulder. “Kidding. You have a great shower voice.”
With a frowning face, Jake stared at you.
You paused in thought. “That sounded weird, didn’t it?”
“Already forgotten.”
“You’re such a sweetheart.” You briefly leaned your head back into the crook of his neck.
The expression which bordered between mischief and intimacy on Jake’s face was only meant for you to see. “Careful, darlin’. With words like that, you’re starting to make all the girls here jealous.”
“I’m good, thanks,” Natasha interjected, jolting you from your thoughts. “Don’t know if you guys are disgusting or just too adorable together.”
You chuckled, hiding your face behind your hair.
Jake leaned his arm against the back of the couch you were sitting on and said with a teasing voice, “Oh, Phoenix, is there something you want to tell?”
A mysterious smile lingered on Natasha’s lips. “I don’t know. Is there something you want to tell?”
Jake remained silent when he narrowed his eyes. “Nope.”
“Pity,” Natasha retorted.
“This tension is getting way too thick for me.” You decided and braced yourself to stand up. “Bob’s song choice is calling my name.”
At the mention of his name, Jake turned his head in an almost comical way. “Wait, Bob?”
You turned halfway around. “Definitely. I think I’m feeling ‘Take Me Home, Country Roads’, you know?”
Natasha gave her vote of confidence. “Don’t let Bob fool you. He’s great. As long as you don’t get into a duet with Rooster.” Her eyes widened at that specific scenario. “I’m serious. I can’t take one more ‘Great Balls of Fire’ today.”
“Thanks for the warning.”
Jake stood up, hiding his hands in the pockets of his jeans. “We’re singing together, right?”
“Of course we are, buddy. It’s tradition,” you said, patting his cheek before leaving again.
Jake sat back down with a sigh, mouthing, “Buddy?” to himself.
“You must have really scared her off with your karaoke performance, … buddy,” Natasha teased next to him.
“You know what?” Jake brooded over his next retort. “Why don’t you have fun with your next Britney song, huh?”
“Thanks. If I play my cards right, I could convince Y/N to join me. I bet she likes Toxic, huh?”
“Everyone does.” Knowing that you wouldn’t mind that one bit.
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~ Jake POV ~
“Another plane, another train. Another bottle in the brain. Another girl, another fight. Another drive all night,” You rapped without having care in the world while you mimicked guitar sounds. With your arm slung over his shoulder, Jake carried your body inside.
“You know, I got neighbors, right? I don’t know if they’d appreciate you hollering to the Beastie Boys.”
As if the thought just hit you, you rasped, “I could do it while whisper-yelling. You know, show them some taste.”
Jake shook his head at your antics. “You and your 90’s songs.”
“That was actually late 80’s.”
Jake only chuckled at your musical knowledge shining through. “Someone’s not drunk, huh? Do I need to carry you to bed?”
“Oh, Mr. Lieutenant Seresin-” You leaned back with a smirk, inspecting Jake thoroughly. That gaze alone, and that rank drop, sent a surprising shiver down his spine.
-“You know, I’m not that kinda girl.”
“Oh my God,” he whispered. “Only you would try to flirt in your affectionate state.”
“I’m always flirting with you.”
That reminder unsettled Jake, especially since that sort of affection seemed unusual to other people. For some reason, he didn’t want to lose that. Jake swallowed, frowning. “Yeah, that … that’s what we do. We’re just really, uh…”
“Really secure in our friendship,” you added, holding onto his arms.
His eyes lit up, feeling grateful for your words and warm from your touch. “Exactly. We are.”
You smirked. “How secure do you feel with Javy?”
“Hey, that’s very different. I’m very comfortable with ‘touching guys’, but we’re not in the flirty stage.”
You pursed your lips, imagining that specific scenario. “So, you’re saying you could get there with him one day.”
He didn’t have to ponder about that. “Nope. There’s never been the need for that.”
“Oh, you’re saying I’m special, sweetheart?” Your hold shifted into a tight hug.
“Don’t fish for compliments. You know you are,” Jake whispered quietly, like he was sharing something only for you to know.
“Oh, that’s nice,” you muttered. Snuggling deeper into his strong shoulders while enjoying his warmth. “Damn, your shoulders are really something else, huh? Did I already say that?”
Jake’s shoulders shook with laughter. “It’s fine.”
Like a gentle and exploring piano player, your fingers danced around his shoulder. “You must get them compliments all the time from everyone else.”
“I don’t care about everyone else,” Jake paused.
“Sorry for objectifying you. You’re a real nice guy.”
“First, I don’t mind you objectifying me. Second, don’t you dare call me nice.”
“Oh, you’re just a sweetheart and I don’t get why you don’t let others see that.” Jake felt his body vibrate when you nestled deeper into his neck. Maybe it was easier for Jake to admit stuff if he didn’t have to look at you.
That thought process was eviscerated when you leaned back to stare into his eyes. You stroked his cheeks with deep consideration. “You know, sometimes I keep thinking you deserve so much more than the small scraps of brief flings you’re setting for yourself.”
Almost allured, Jake leaned his face into your palm. Before he caught himself with that infuriating smile. “Oh, you’re thinking about me having sex. Is there something you want to tell me?”
He could feel your disappointment deeply in his core when you sighed heavily. “Jake, you really know how to kill the mood.”
Jake smiled proudly. “Thanks. I really worked hard on that skill.”
With wide eyes, your whole stance changed. “I changed my mind. Can you take me to bed, in a purely platonic way?”
“Only because you asked nicely.”
“Oh, proof that Jake Seresin is secretly a gentleman.” As soon as he offered his smile, you squeezed his dimples, like he was a little kid.
Jake shook his head. “Okay, I think it’s time for bed.”
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“And the great Hangman takes aim. Will he be able to defeat the local competition or forfeit his winning streak?”
Jake sighed at hearing Rooster commenting with high anticipation on their pool game at their usual hangout. His arm, holding the cue, hesitated on the pool table. “Rooster, if I have to listen to your droning voice any longer-”
Rooster leaned over the cushion, whispering teasingly, “Why? Am I getting inside your head?”
Jake scoffed at the insinuation. “You think you can get to me with mind games? I invented those.” He pulled his arm back. The moment he saw you enter, a fond smile tugged at the corner of his lips when he saw you laugh with Natasha and -
-pat Bob’s arm?
Jake pushed the cue forward. And watched in apprehension as it slipped away from the ball. “Fuck me,” he grumbled. He couldn’t look away from the unfolding car accident of his play as the ball slithered frustratingly to the middle of the table.
Rooster snorts morphed into boisterous laughter. “Outstanding performance. At least something is getting to you. Are you sure you’re as good as you claim to be?”
Jake whipped his head around. “You know, why don’t you play one of your piano sessions?”
“That would be kind of hard to do since-” Rooster leaned forward with his cue stick. “-you know, I’m beating you.”
Jake cleared his throat, rubbing the back of his neck. He felt his eyes wander surreptitiously to the pair sitting at the bar. Jake made grumbling noises when Penny covered his view as his fingers tightened around the cue stick.
“Ace, you need a special invitation or are you considering to surrender already?” Jake heard the annoying voice behind him. It took everything inside him to not give up and wander where he really wanted to go.
“You’re a hilarious bird.”
Jake lined up his shot.
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~ Y/N POV ~
“Okay, what did I miss?”
When you turned your head, Jake sauntered next to you. It took you another glance until you noticed something amiss. “Woah, what happened? You look really hot,” you said, inspecting Jake’s forehead with the back of your hand.
Jake smirked. “Well, thank you. I try my best.”
You rolled your eyes at Jake’s antics to view everything as a compliment. “No, you dork. I mean, you’re like really sweaty. Did you overdo it with the testosterone match?”
“I think I did it just right,” Jake sputtered.
“Who won?”
His green eyes twinkled at the spoken challenge, making your heart flutter. “Who do you think?”
It took you less than a few seconds to look towards Bradley, who swaggered behind Jake. “Who won?”
Jake opened his mouth to gasp at your cheekiness not to trust his word. “I won! What are you asking him for?”
“Barely,” Bradley mouthed, making you giggle. “Totally. I was absolutely … destroyed.” His eyes turned serious when Jake’s gaze found his. “I need some beer to recharge,” he said, moving away.
With a conspiring demeanor, Natasha leaned forward to whisper into your ears. “Oh please, let me tell him.”
Jake’s head moved in her direction. “Oh, you’re here too. Tell me what?”
She placed her hands on your shoulders, slightly shaking your body with her utter enjoyment. “Someone’s gotten herself a date,” Natasha trilled with a sing-song voice.
The glower on Jake’s face sent shivers through your body. You felt uncertain at seeing his reaction. You tried to tell yourself that Jake was just being an overprotective friend. His gaze alternated between yours and Natasha’s before it finally landed on Bob’s.
A wide-eyed Bob swallowed his cup of water. “Not me. I mean, not that Y/N isn’t … you know-” You felt touched that Bob tried to rectify his statement by not wanting to hurt your feelings when he truly looked at you. “You’re really pretty. A guy would be lucky to have you.”
You inwardly gushed at Bob’s gentlemanly ways and felt utterly compelled to give him a hug. Instead, you held him by the shoulder. “Oh Bob, you’re such a sweetheart. You just earned yourself a dance. Pick a song.” With an energetic jump, you moved from your stool and went towards the jukebox.
“I didn’t want to make things weird for the team,” Bob whispered with wide eyes.
There was something akin to respect shining in Jake’s eyes when he nodded once before staring calmly at Natasha. He tried really hard not to reveal his candid emotions on his face. Jake promised to himself, he wouldn’t clench his jaw or cross his arms. He felt like a twitching fool when he was about to cross his arms. Instead, he was forced to let his arms glide downwards before he stroked his abdominal muscles. In the end, he awkwardly hid his hands in the back pockets of his pants.
Natasha smiled mysteriously. “Don’t worry, I’m a great matchmaker. She’s in the safest hands.”
“Phoenix,” Jake started, before he inwardly winced. He crossed his arms and spoke slowly, “what are you doing?”
She shrugged. “Just listening. Y/N mentioned something when we were talking.”
He couldn’t help tilting his head in intrigue. “What exactly?”
“That’s for me to know and you to butt out.” Natasha’s expression softened when she tried to soften the blow. “All in good time. I have a plan. It’s gonna sound weird, but you seem like someone who likes having their best friend close. This is me ensuring to make San Diego as appealing as possible to her. I’m just saying—if she wants to stay,” she said, shrugging her shoulders.
“By giving her a date? You’re right, it doesn’t make any sense.”
“Best-case scenario: She’s gonna have the time of her life with the potential to meet the love of her life while getting a meal out of the date.” Natasha lifted the palms of her hands like a scale to weigh the chances. “Worst case: death by boredom. And next thing you know, Y/N is gonna seek comfort from her best friend after realizing that all naval aviators are douchebags.”
Jake groaned at the thought. “Ugh, great. It’s a damn naval aviator?”
She tilted her head in fascination. “Short question: does she have a thing for aviators? There was a fangirl moment when I mentioned Mav.”
He winced before murmuring, “It’s a statistics thing. Don’t mention Iceman around her.”
Natasha nodded. “Noted.”
“You’re way too involved in this.” Jake pressed his lips together, hoping to see her ultimate endgame. “What’s in it for you?”
“Not everything’s an agenda.” Natasha brushed by him, moving away.
Jake narrowed his eyes with deep suspicion. “And that’s not really an answer.”
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~ Y/N POV ~
You could feel your heart beating nervously in your chest. Even your stomach was being all fluttery when you looked into the bathroom mirror while putting mascara on your eyelashes. You heard shuffling behind you before you met green eyes in the reflection.
Your voice echoed in the bathroom. “Jake, you’re hovering like a mother hen.” You didn’t bother turning around since you needed to focus on the task at hand, in order not to go crazy with anxiety. His rare controlling persona wasn’t helping matters.
Jake leaned his shoulder against the door jamb. “I’m just curious, that’s all. You’ve never met the guy. Assuming it’s a man, I don’t want to presume.” He waved his arms around. “I wouldn’t put it past Phoenix to put you on a blind date with a girl.”
You pursed your lips while mentioning casually, “Nat did mention that most of the aviators on the force were duds.”
Jake grimaced. “Going to ignore that,” he mumbled under his breath.
You wiped some mascara remnants from your eyelid. “Your sex not being dating material or me hypothetically dating the same team?”
Jake shook his head, clearing his throat. “So, where are you two lovebirds meeting tonight? Romantic restaurant, picnic by the waterfront?”
The annoyed growl leaving your mouth surprised you. Normally, you weren’t an irrational person who was prone for aggravation. His hovering presence distracted you in an inefficient way. “Seresin, you’re starting to cramp me in this bathroom.” You puzzled yourself more than him when you shoved him through the door. “All answers will be given in the living room after I had some breathing room.”
As soon as the door was closed, it felt like you could breathe again. You exhaled a heavy breath. “Oh my God,” you whispered.
“I heard that!” Jake protested behind the door.
“Good!”
Jake released the breath he was holding. He was sitting on the couch, drumming his fingers on his thigh. He mindlessly watched ‘The Real Housewives of New Jersey’ on his TV, needing something to run in the background while he was waiting for you to come out. Every time he heard noises coming from the bathroom, Jake craned his head, unable to tamp down his curiosity.
The moment the door closed again, he felt nervous energy coming off of him. And he didn’t truly understand why. Jake heard your shuffling feet in the distance before you finally came out. It felt like the breath had been knocked out of his body.
There was something about a Y/N in a sundress and ballet flats that made him feel very weird. You swung around to show off the full effect of your date attire.
“So, what’s the verdict? Does it meet the expectations of Jake Seresin at least?”
“Um-” Jake cleared his throat before he averted his gaze. “-it looks good.”
“Oh, if the dress looks good… Lucky me, huh?”
“Whoever you’re meeting tonight, they’re the lucky ones.”
“Oh.” You rushed forward, hugging Jake sideways in gratitude. “I like when sweet and charming Jake comes out. He’s such a gentleman.”
“I’m going to assert plausible deniability, in case you decide to reveal my secrets.” Jake shared a small smile with you, reminding himself to at least appear like he was fine with the thought of you going out with another naval aviator.
“I wouldn’t. Not for a good trade at least.”
Jake pointed at you as a reminder. “No apple pie.”
You threw your head back, groaning loudly. “How about a strudel?”
“Not even that.”
“Fine.” She leaned back against the couch before whispering quietly, – like you had to remind yourself - “I need to get going.”
He looked up. “You want me to drive you?”
“That’d be weird, wouldn’t it?”
Jake had to keep trying. “To pick you up then.”
A small part of him would remember fondly how he made you chuckle. “Even weirder flex. I’ll be fine.”
The goodbye kiss on his cheek made him sigh before he nodded with a resolved air. “Text me when you need a getaway car.”
You laughed airily. “Alright.”
It was an hour later when he was already lying in bed and mindlessly scrolling through social media on his phone when he received a text from you.
Don’t need a getaway car.
Nodding dazedly to himself, Jake whispered, “That’s just … great.”
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Jake was proving to be an utterly, frustrating man. It had been fifteen minutes since you said good morning that Jake had uttered a word. Only the sound of awkward breakfast crunching could be heard.
You sighed when you saw Jake eye you inscrutably again. He truly thought he was being covert. “Okay, when are we going to break the tension?”
“What tension? There’s no tension.” Jake kept munching on his cornflakes. Like he didn’t have a care in the world. Granted, Jake was the kind to keep on eating food, even when he wasn’t feeling well. “It’s a wonderful morning. I’m having breakfast.” Jake scarfed down a mouthful. “There’s nothing out of the ordinary whatsoever.” To prove his point, he offered a close-lipped smile.
You narrowed your eyes in speculation. Talking gibberish was very unlike him. “You want to know how last night went.”
“I don’t want to know.”
“You don’t want to know,” you repeated slowly and in strong incredulity.
“Yep, no interest.” Jake paused in thought. “Unless you want to talk about your date.”
“I’m not going to force you into a conversation if you couldn’t care less.”
“I do care,” Jake rushed with his reply before his voice turned casual again. “I mean a meager amount.”
“Is this like a guy thing?” You sniffed, taking on a low manly voice for effect. “I don’t mind talking about my latest conquest but I’d rather die than talk about it in a meaningful way.”
“First, I hope that wasn’t an impression of me.”
Your face took on a blank expression before you crossed your arms. Waiting for Jake to continue with his list.
“Second, I don’t mind talking about your … dates, as long as it’s not, you know-” He winced. “-sexual.”
“Jesus, that was a first date. And besides, I don’t know if that’s sexist or something else, that you’re allowed to talk about that stuff, but not me?”
“I don’t know why we’re going the feminist route, but with you it’s just different,” he mumbled before shrugging.
“Why?”
“Because you’re my best friend,” Jake responded fervently. “And none of these guys deserve you.” His voice turned quiet, becoming serious all of a sudden. “You deserve someone better.”
Disappointment filled your body at Jake’s perspective. Recounting all the times in your head when you would tell him how he deserved someone who could challenge him, yet appreciate the things about him which made him such a decent and caring guy. It was a pity that Jake would rather wallow in his self-loathing, while pretending to be the most egotistical guy that ever existed than to be vulnerable for once.
Your shoulders deflated when you realized that maybe he would never be ready to have a meaningful relationship—or any relationship at all that progressed over the 3-day mark—and you swore that a small part of you died right there on the kitchen floor. Feeling more hopeless than ever.
Before you could fully understand the reason why this bothered you so much, Jake’s concerned expression pulled you out of the deepest parts of yourself.
“What? What’d I say?”
You shook your head. Never feeling this gloomy before. “You know, for someone who claims to be so smart, you’re just so dang stupid.” Every single word felt like it was torn painfully from between your lips.
“What?”
You just felt too tired to make Jake understand. It felt easier to just turn your body away. Despite how much you hated appearing this careless towards him. “I got to go. I’ll see you later, Jake.”
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~ Jake POV ~
“Well, someone’s in a bad mood.” Natasha teased him. Despite them having to endure the same punishment by being forced to do push-ups next to each other, Natasha still seemed to be in a formidable mood.
Jake turned his head. Not caring particularly that he sent her a dark glower.
“Don’t hang your head, Hangman. I doubt you could’ve evaded Mav’s hit on your best day.”
“Shut up,” he grumbled. Inwardly, he winced. His ma would have his hide if she heard him talking like that to anyone.
“What? No comeback? I wonder what else could be bothering you,” she mused to herself.
Natasha didn’t fool him one bit. Jake wondered if she had it out for him and that was why she focused so hard on Y/N.
“What do you think, Bob?” She decided to thrust the knife even deeper.
Even at the mention of his name, Jake swore his forehead garnered the first droplets of sweat.
Bob chose to focus on his push-ups before grunting, “I’m not getting in the middle of this.”
“You’re way too nice.”
Jake clenched his jaw. “Yes, someone’s a real goody two-shoes.”
Bob turned his head, looking bewildered. “What did I do?”
“Oh, just sweet and perfect Bob who can do nothing wrong.”
Heavy footsteps came closer. “Why do I hear chattering and see no push-ups over here?” Maverick’s voice came over their heads.
“Understood, Sir,” Bob automatically replied.
Jake kept his mouth closed. As much as it pained him.
After the completion of their punishment and he had taken a shower, Jake hurried after Natasha in the rec room. “I need to talk to you.”
Natasha tilted her head. “I thought we already did.”
“Who was the date?”
She exhaled in exasperation, glaring at him. “You’re so predictable, Hangman,” she said, turning around to leave.
“Wait, wait. I’m sorry-”
Natasha stopped in her tracks. She swivelled her head, frowning. “An apology? You just bought yourself two minutes of my time. Go on.”
“Was it Bob?”
Natasha breathed out slowly, pausing in thought. “…You have a weird fixation on Bob. I wonder why that is.”
Jake cleared his throat and crossed his arms. “I don’t-”
“Just kidding. I know why that is. And no. I asked, but he refused.” She shook her head, revealing that this bothered her more than she wanted to admit. “Honorable little fucker,” Natasha grumbled. She chose to clarify instead. “He wouldn’t have minded to date Y/N, but, you know- Didn’t he tell you this already?”
Bob did mention that. But Jake couldn’t help thinking that he might have changed his mind. He averted his gaze, feeling slightly depraved that he considered Floyd doing that. “Maybe. But still.”
Natasha raised an eyebrow in disbelief. “What does it matter who the lucky fella was? What are you gonna do? Scare the hell out of them?”
It was indeed bad when someone like Phoenix could predict his future plans. “If it’s someone who doesn’t deserve her, then yes.”
She hummed. “If you know her so well, then tell me, what kind of person do you think Y/N deserves?”
Jake spread his arms. It felt strange how a list of things ran through his head and how they just rolled off his tongue. “Someone nice. Someone who just gets her and adores her little quirks. Just a gentleman.” He counted the amount of traits with his fingers. “Funny, maybe a bit sensitive or vulnerable. Good-looking, but that’s not as high up on her list as the inner qualities.”
Natasha remained quiet. Her brown eyes were staring at him with a profound expression. “Very insightful. Interesting qualities you just listed off. Anyone you know that could fulfil those strengths?”
At the mere mention, he felt like he was put in the spotlight. Either she wanted him to say ‘Bob’ – since those characteristics could cover him easily—or maybe utter his own name. The more he thought about it, the more he realized how much he wanted to be with you. And wanted to be a part of you.
Jake carefully glanced at Natasha. Not trusting her look of consideration, he narrowed his eyes. He spoke slowly. “I’m not sure.”
“Pity. I could be persuaded into making something happen, if you know what I mean.”
Jake licked his lips, knowing exactly what she was trying to get him to admit. He pressed his lips together.
“But … you would actually need to say the words.” She waited patiently before sighing. “My patience knows its limits though. So, if you got nothing to say, then…” Natasha pointed behind her to threaten her departure. She nodded to herself once before saying, “Okay.” And walked towards the exit.
Jake opened his mouth, as he watched her walk away. He didn’t understand where his courage was coming from when the words left his mouth. “Natasha, would you squeeze me in as Y/N’s date?” He knew how he’d usually call her ‘Phoenix’ or in very rare instances ‘Nat’ so he figured that she caught him in a vulnerable mood for a change.
She dramatically turned around and pursed her lips. “Depends. Will you also apologize to Bob for being an absolute dick?” She paused. “Again?”
Jake sighed. “Listen, I don’t-”
“It’s called being a decent human being. It’s the least you could do. Not to mention-” Natasha tapped her chin mockingly. “-I can’t imagine how Y/N would feel if she found out that someone was being this rude to sweet Bob. I mean, what do you think? How would she feel about that?”
He revealed a tight smile at the slight warning. There was no need to hit below the belt. He would have done it anyway if Natasha said he was being a jerk. “Fine, I got your point. I’ll apologize,” he grunted lowly.
She smiled cheerily. “Now, that wasn’t so hard, was it?”
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You felt bad about ignoring Jake, you thought, while you waited in the midst of the amusement park of Belmont Park. Ever since this morning, things had been weird between you. Or Jake was just being his stubborn and obstinate self.
You had been baffled since Natasha sent you a message that the date location had changed. The more you looked around, you realized that you would’ve loved to spend time with Jake at this place. You exhaled with disappointment. Jake would absolutely force you on the roller-coaster, but then feel bad once your stomach was upset by buying you a funnel cake.
Deciding that your bond with Jake was far too important than to leave everything hanging like that, you yearned to clear the air. Pulling out your phone, you scrolled through your contacts until your thumb pressed against the name.
The sound of a cell ringing in the distance made you turn your body in uncertainty. You frowned once you saw Jake advancing with hesitation, waving an arm in greeting.
“Hey, you.”
You hung up your phone, trying to grasp his presence. “What are you doing here? Did you want to ride the Giant Dipper, or something?”
Jake smiled awkwardly. “I wouldn’t actually mind that. Depends if my best friend would be up for it too?” You tried to prepare yourself against his puppy dog eyes as he stepped closer. The movement made you take notice of his suave appearance. You swore you could feel your knees weakening when you saw him wearing his jeans and a pressed white dress shirt.
Jake rubbed his hands against the fabric of his pants.
Not wanting to hurt him, you spoke slowly. “That’s hard to say. I’m kind of on a date. Just waiting, I guess.”
“Yeah, I know. Natasha told me.”
You felt befuddled by his explanation. “Why … would she do that?”
“I asked her to?” Jake phrased the statement into a cautious question.
You pursed your lips as you tried to understand why she would do that in the first place. “Did you bribe her?”
Jake blushed at a memory when he explained with a gravelly voice, “I think I paid her off by giving her the satisfaction in seeing me grovel.”
“How did that look like?” You said, feeling fascinated by the concept of a begging Jake. Even that word didn’t seem to fit him.
“You don’t want to know, trust me.” Jake grew silent before something akin to hope lit up his eyes. “Why did you want to call me?”
You cleared your throat. “Why are you here?”
Teasingly, Jake pointed at you. “I asked you first.”
You sighed. “I wanted to clear the air.” Still, you were not above getting one small dig in. “Unlike some people, I wanted to be the grown-up one here.”
Jake narrowed his eyes. “Now someone’s just being cheeky.” He exhaled, willing to admit any wrongdoings. “I’m sorry for being a dick.”
“Why were you?” You spoke softly. Just because he was your close friend didn’t mean that Jake would get special treatment.
Jake stepped closer until you were only a foot apart. “Because I have a talent for it. Because it’s easier to just pretend. Because of you going out … with a naval aviator just pissed me off. Because I-” He breathed in, like he was preparing for you to hit him. “-I really, really like you.”
You blushed, not yet trusting if he meant it or if this was just some strange prank he wanted to pull off. “You like me,” you repeated, unable not to tease him just a little bit. “And here I thought most of the time I was your annoying best friend.”
“I think you’re confusing yourself with Javy.”
You cocked your head playfully. “Oh? Do you really, really like him too?”
He pursed his lips, like he needed to entertain that thought first. “He’s just alright, I guess. I mean, I more than like you. It’s like obnoxious.”
Wow, and here you thought, Jake could prove to be an adult for once. So, unless he decided to brandish a real love confession that didn’t sound like the most aggravating nuisance, you could do the same.
“Oh my God, you’re like a big kid, huh? Using those big boy words.”
His eyes were burning with sage fire. “You’re just so infuriating at times.”
You raised an eyebrow. “Says the great Jake?”
“That’s what I mean! You’re driving me absolute insane. You’re making friends with everyone you meet.” Jake counted at his fingers. “Maverick, Bob!-”
You furrowed your eyebrows. “What’s Bob got to do with this?”
“He’s like-” Jake grimaced. “-And you’re-” He waved towards you, very eloquently describing the issue at hand.
“I think somewhere was a compliment. Let me just reiterate: you think Bob’s a great, wonderful guy and I’m just-”
“Perfect,” he uttered with a hoarse voice.
You inhaled deeply, stammering nervously. “You can’t just say stuff like that.”
“It’s still the truth.”
“What if you’re only saying all of this because you can’t stand the idea of me getting with a naval aviator?” You voiced your inner worries, absolutely needing him to be truthful.
Jake opened his mouth several times before admitting, “Partly true. But the truth is, Nat made me realize I was just being too chicken to fully admit that I … I can’t imagine not spending the day with you. You make me think about you all the time. Even when I’m out with the guys and I keep thinking ‘Oh wow, Y/N would love to try out that drink’ or ‘As much as you’re a talker during Sunday Night Football-”
“Not always,” you mumbled quietly.
“-you still make it fun.”
You pressed your lips together, feeling very nervous and emotional by his words.
“Maybe I just didn’t realize I was in love with you until the concept truly hit me, that you might be into a … nice guy like Bob.”
Despite his familiar self-loathing, you couldn’t help reminding him with a small smile, “You’re a nice guy too, Jake.”
“Only with you.”
Jake’s confession made your heart palpitate in your chest nervously.
“So,” Jake started, “what do you feel for me?”
You hummed to yourself before confessing, “Ditto.”
Jake huffed loudly. “Oh my God. Of course, you’d be aggravating about it.”
“I’m just saying, maybe I really, really like you too.”
He shook his head, trying to suppress a smile. As much as you could tell what he wanted to hear from you.
In the end, you chose to take a chance. “Let’s just say, there are more times when I realized over the years how I’m in love with you than the amount of times when I can’t stand you. The second is pretty close though.”
You couldn’t have been prepared for Jake’s wide and blinding smile.
“Ditto.”
You rolled your eyes, while revealing a small smile on your lips. You decided to put him out of his misery when you admitted, “Nat was my date.”
“Wa-wait, what?”
You shrugged your shoulders. “She said that she had a specific guy in mind, but he wasn’t ready yet. I just thought it was someone who was still out on a mission. So, we hung out last night.”
Jake still remained confused. “And did what?”
“Nosy,” you mumbled. “Karaoke and stuff like that.”
“Why didn’t you tell me?” He inquired with wide eyes.
“I wanted to, but you decided to be a jerk about it.”
Jake narrowed his eyes, shaking his head. “Nat ‘Fucking Mastermind’ Trace.”
“What?”
“Nothing.” Jake looked at your surroundings, hiding his hands in the pockets of his jeans. “Do you want to go on a date?”
You smirked. “Like a platonic one?”
“Nope, like a real one. You know, the romantic kind. I promise to make it a bit fun, unique and unforgettable.”
“That’s a big promise.”
Jake smirked arrogantly. “I’m aware. It also perfectly describes me.”
You groaned loudly. “And here we go. I want Nice Guy Jake though and not the obnoxious one.”
He was walking alongside you, nodding. “I’ll tell him to take an off-day.”
“What is it about you and Bob though? He’s just a really stand-up guy. Really funny.”
“So am I.”
“Sometimes. Let’s just say, we just get each other. You know, cut from the same cloth.”
Jake hummed. At least he was no longer being a caveman when it came to Bob. “Okay,” he said, laying his arm over your shoulder.
“I mean, he was just helping me rent an apartment in the city,” you explained, gauging his reaction.
“What?”
“Yes, he offered to put in a good word and Nat sent me a few listings.”
It seemed like the rare event of a speechless Jake took place. “Huh, that’s-”
“As I live and breathe, a speechless Jake Seresin was just seen out and about.” You glanced at him through your eyelashes. “I think you were about to say that’s a real stand-up guy thing to do, huh?”
Jake sighed, not wanting to admit reluctant respect before mumbling something under his breath which sounded close to, “Damn it, now I really got to apologize.”
You turned your head. “What?”
“Nothing.”
“It’s okay. There’s still time for you to deal with your big boy emotions,” you replied before you chose to do something new. By taking his hand and interlacing your fingers together. “And here I thought, judging from your letters, you had more of a rivalry thing going with Bradley.”
“I know, right? I thought I would feel threatened by Rooster of all people. But Bob?”
“Let’s just say, in another life Bob would’ve swept me off my feet,” you retorted, patting him against his chest.
His blank expression could be described as something where he tried to imagine that so-called horror reality. “… Don’t even joke about that.”
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ecoamerica · 1 month
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queer-n-here · 2 months
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Y'all thank you for your responses! So here is: Large and in charge reader, who's only nice to their on true love: OSAMU DAZAI!
(And yes, as you can see, I voted on my own poll. And yes, I voted for Tanizaki. I'm a simp for him broooooo)
Also, bruv, I dunno why but I got so carried away and this got really angsty. Like... I never do angst. NEVER. Yet here we are. I wonder if I'm okay. Well whatever.
Contents: Dazai getting drunk with reader.
Warnings: No smut, kinda angst, I totally digressed from the original plot line I had planned, and now I want nothing more than to give Osamu Dazai a big fat hug.
Dazai had found himself a new hobby: watching people's reactions as you talked to him.
I mean, most would think, really, how interesting can THAT be? But being the sort of person you were, all mean and menacing at one look but really soft and gentle on the inside, it was rare for you to really hold a conversation without coming off as intimidating. So when people saw you smiling softly at Dazai's jokes, and watching him fondly as he chatted away, they were generally more than surprised.
Dazai remembered distinctly the day you'd met. Fukuzawa had found you fighting solo against three of the Port Mafia's best ability-users, and known with one glance that you were stronger than even you knew. It hadn't taken him long to convince you to join the Armed Detective Agency; with painfully dead parents and a burned down house, you didn't really have anywhere else to go.
You passed their little entrance test, even though after they revealed that it was just an entrance test you couldn't help but be slightly annoyed. All that hard work to try and save that girl only for the whole scenario to be fake. Should've just ignored it.
It had been two years since then. And even though you wouldn't really say it out loud, you were happy that Fukuzawa had taken you under his wing.
How else would you have met Dazai? Or any of the others, who you did secretly like, even though you were unsure about expressing it.
One day, Fukuzawa sent you and Dazai to investigate a letter that the detective agency had received. The sender threatened to blow up the Gundam Factory in Yokohama, which was a popular entertainment place for tourists. Fukuzawa did contact the owner, but since the area covered by the Factory was quite large, and the number of people who were already there was also ginormous, the owner asked for them to investigate the culprit before the bombs could go off.
It was an easy job, and you two had it finished before 3 in the afternoon. All that was left now was some measly paperwork, which you would have to take care of alone because Dazai despised that part of work with a burning passion.
And so Dazai decided to fool around a little.
He took you to a bar, somewhere in a deserted alley in the middle of nowhere, walking with his hands on the back of his head and making nasty comments about everything he could lay his eyes on. You followed silently.
"Say," He yanked open the door of Lupin. "What about you, though? Where do you generally spend after-mission free time?"
Dazai led you into the bar, plopping down on a barstool in front of the counter.
"I sleep," You said, sitting down next to him.
"Huh?" He made a weird face. "That's it?"
A bartender appeared behind the counter.
"Mn," You nodded, looking at the bartender.
Dazai ordered 'his usual', and you decided to have the same as him. It wasn't bad, frankly, sitting there next to him on adjacent barstools and hearing him ramble on about everything and somehow nothing at the same time. He drank and drank and drank and drank, till he was telling you about Ango, about Odasaku and the days they spent together. He drank till his pale cheeks were flushed red, till his neck didn't have the strength to hold his head anymore, till his head was pressed into your chest and his shoulders were shaking with silent sobs.
You stroked the back of Dazai's head. Sober, he was a goof, running around pretending that everything was jokes and comedy. Drunk, he was much more grim, face set firm even as more tears splashed sown it, eyes miserable in a way that made your heart ache.
"What's making you sad?" You asked him, desperate to take away at least some part of his sorrow.
But he didn't answer, shaking his head and clenching the fabric of your shirt so desperately it felt like he was hanging on for dear life.
You let him, wrapping your arms around him slowly, pulling him closer. You couldn't do anything but that, and the mere thought of it made you feel like the most useless being on the planet.
You paid for the drinks and heaved Dazai up on your shoulder, letting him stain a different part of your coat with tears as you walked away from the bar.
You took him to the agency dormitory, but once you were in front of his door you couldn't go any further.
"Dazai," You said, your voice gentle as you slowly put him down, and he wobbled on his feet. "Do you have your keys?"
The man couldn't even stand, and had to lean against the door for balance to look up at you. "Hmm..."
He began fumbling through his coat, hands slowly and thick with the weight of the alcohol in his veins. Finally, he produced a key, holding it up and pressing it into your chest. His tears had finally stopped.
You wiped the remnants off his cheek with your thumb. "Let me open the door, hmm?"
Dazai moved to lean against you instead of the door, and you placed an arm around his waist to support him as your free hand opened the door. You led him into the room, sitting him down on the floor near the doorway so you could take off his shoes. When you looked up, however, he had laid back on the floor, glossy eyes staring up at the ceiling.
"Say, [Name]," His voice was thick, his words were slurred. "Some people believe that right and wrong are relative... That there's no black and white... D'you think that's true?"
You looked at him. He was regretful, you could tell. But the fact that you couldn't help him, that you couldn't snatch all that pain away from him and swallow it was enough to make you bodily ache.
"I don't think I have a definite answer for that," You said, wishing you had, wishing you knew how to comfort him. "Why do you ask?"
Dazai's hands rose, clutching at the lapel of your jacket and pulling you closer to his face, making you hover over him on the floor. "D'you think... In a world like ours... We can ever do 'the right thing'?"
You shifted your weight to one hand, raising the other to caress his cheeks softly. "If you try hard enough, yeah. Even if no one's a hundred percent good, ever, if you try hard enough... I think that's all that matters."
"And..." Dazai's brow furrowed, and he looked adorably confused. "How hard is hard enough?"
You couldn't help but think of how, in any other situation, Dazai would've made a sexual pun out of those words.
"Hmm..." You thought of it, wanting to give him an answer that would satiate him. "Your best."
It was a simple answer, and yet Dazai's eyes widened, as if you'd solved the biggest mystery of the universe. "Just that?"
You nodded. "Just that. That's more than enough, Dazai."
And he nodded back, wrapping his heavy arms around your shoulders and pulling you closer, burying his head in your chest again. He fell asleep like that, holding you like a child.
You took him into the room later, taking off his coat and sweater and untucking his shirt before placing him on the futon and covering him with the quilt.
The next day when you saw him at the agency, he was back to his clownery, but something about the way he looked at you had changed.
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teyamsatan · 11 months
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𝕄𝕠𝕟𝕤𝕥𝕖𝕣 𝕚𝕟 𝕄𝕖 | ℂ𝕙𝕒𝕡𝕥𝕖𝕣 𝕀𝕀𝕀: 𝕀 𝔸𝕞 𝕃𝕠𝕤𝕥, 𝔹𝕦𝕥 ℕ𝕠𝕥 𝕀𝕟 𝕐𝕠𝕦
Pairing: Neteyam x (f)Omaticaya!Reader
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synopsis: in order to fulfil your revenge plans on Neteyam, you have to give up a lot of your life, including a future with a man who loves you dearly.
warnings: 18+ minors DNI, aged-up! Neteyam/Reader, enemies-to-lovers, angst (@lanasblood trying to be better about this), smut (fingering, orgasm denial), strong language, neteyam and reader being horrible to each other lol
wc: 6.5k words
a/n: things are starting to get spicy besties 😌 i have to admit, although i am a lot more comfortable with friends-to-lovers, or more angsty tropes, i adore writing the sexual tension that comes with e2l and i hope i did it justice and you enjoy this chapter. i can't wait to hear your thoughts, bbs and thank you again for all the love and support on this series xx (thank you very much also to @cinetrix for her amazing Neteyam art ily bestie x)
this is only half proof-read, so if you see any mistakes no you don't
na'vi compendium: yawne - beloved, Tsakarem - Tsa'hik in training, tìlor - beauty, txepvi  - spark
: ̗̀➛ previous chapter (x) : ̗̀➛ series masterlist (x) : ̗̀➛ series playlist (x)
In a perfect world, I'd kill to love you the loudest But all I do is live to hurt you soundless Say you see I'm lying, babe, and let this go I can never promise you tomorrow
The departing footsteps echoed through the forest as O'ì'en left you all alone, with a broken heart and the man that broke it, and the feeling left you empty, the hurt of what transpired, of what he did, what you did, how with each passing blow to each other’s lives, this was no longer just a petty rivalry but felt like so much more, like too much more. You threatened him, you spit all sorts of petty warnings about hell and burning - and in the heat of the moment, that sounded cool, and doable. Not anymore, as you stood motionless in the clearing and realised that Neteyam still had so much power over you, that his grasp on your life and on your heart was so tight, tighter than anyone else’s, tight enough to bruise and crush it with a tug of his fisted fingers. You removed yourself from his grasp like his touch burned you, which it felt like it did, and put distance in between your bodies, so that you could see him, so that you could clear your mind, so that his presence wouldn’t have the effect on you it always did, that you were sure was just your body recoiling in hatred, that always manifested itself in goosebumps and shivers down your spine. 
“You’re such a fucking asshole.” The tears stung as you willed them back into your tear ducts. It’s been 7 years since Neteyam has seen you cry, and you’ll be damned if that would ever change, and especially right now, as you watched the smirk grow with every departing step, with every erratic blink of your eyes, as you tried to stop them from falling down your face, as he knew he got to you, that he made you pay for the words you uttered to him before. 
“Oh, yawne. One day you’ll learn to not punch above your weight, and I guess since no one else is willing to, it falls onto me to teach you.” He walks slow, purposeful steps as he nears you once more, and his eyes boring into you, filled with intensity and a feeling you couldn’t quite place, that didn’t quite match the arrogance staining his lips like poison, stilled you in your spot, until he was so close, you could feel his warm breath and musky scent, until your heart boomed painfully in your chest, echoing loudly in your ears, marginally drowning out his next words. 
“Did you really think you could threaten me and everything I’ve worked for, my relationship and the rest of my life, without any repercussions, huh? Did you really think I would go down without a fight?” 
His hand raised and reached to push some unruly strands of hair out of your face, and you couldn’t look away from the soft glimmer in his eyes, that was so at odds with the rest of his face, you wondered if he even knew it was there. You wondered if he knew what it signified, because you didn’t. And despite your best efforts otherwise, you couldn’t deny the curiosity that deluged you, to try and find out.
The hint in his molten golden orbs dissipated as quickly as it appeared, and so did any middling emotion that tried you, as you once more found yourself reaching for your knife and unsheathing it, holding it in between both your hands, aiming for a shoulder… or a neck, and with a feral growl, you pushed your entire forced into the blow, and yelped in pain as one of his hands wrapped around both your wrists and twisted until the knife dropped pitifully on the ground with a loud clink. Tears threatened you once more at how futile the effort had been, how easy for him to overpower you like you were nothing more than a child, or a doll. He pinned your hands above your head and pushed you until your back collided with the bark of a tree and you felt the wind getting knocked out of your lungs at the contact. 
“Tsk, tsk, tsk… why must you always resort to violence… yawne?” Your eyes widened as the hand that wasn’t holding you ghosted over your cheeks, tracing the air right above your lips with his thumb, and you were struggling, yet again, with the feelings that were plaguing you, that made burning appear everywhere his fingers were, burning the travelled down your body until they reached your core, that throbbed and clenched, that desperately asked you for something you would never, ever give it. After exploring your face, and tracing your jaw, his fingers finally settled on your chin, pushing it gently until your face angled upwards to meet his and no further breath could inch its way down your airways at the sight of him, at the way he looked at you, at the way it made you feel. 
“You told me that you won’t mind burning in Hell as long as I burn with you. Well…” he broke eye contact to look around him at the forest surrounding you both. “Do you hear that, yawne? Fire is catching. And looks like we’re going to get to burn together after all.” 
“Let me go. I told you what would happen if you ever touched me again.” His smirk never faltered, but only deepened as his eyes trailed over your body, settling on your lower abdomen. 
“Mmm, yawne. I’m not sure you mean that.” It was your turn to reciprocate his guise, no ounce of shame or hesitation on your face.
 
“Let me go and you’ll find out whether I mean it or not.” his eyes widened, if only for a split second, and you felt like you imagined his grip on you loosening, or the fleeting sight of goosebumps peppered on his chest and neck, where your warm breath touched him. 
“Are you really going to miss your chance to find lover boy and apologise like the good girl you like people to think you are?”
Your eyes lost momentary focus as he spoke. His words, although as cruel as usual, made guilt peak its ugly head over the thin-veiled curtain it was hiding behind, and you knew he was right. This was irrelevant. This whole fandangle of aggression and snarky remarks you always engaged in was not what should be occupying your brain, it wasn’t what mattered. O'ì'en mattered. Fixing Neteyam’s damage… and your own - that’s the only thing that mattered right now. 
“Funny how quickly you seem to have forgotten about the one you supposedly love so much when I have your hands pinned above your head, isn’t it… yawne.”
His hands trailed over your arm as if on accident as he let you go and you felt embarrassed. Embarrassed at his words, at his effect on you, at how hard you were fighting your own body and mind as they were struggling to regain composure from his touch, and his voice, and his presence.
Hate. That’s all it was. It consumed you, and you wish it didn’t, but at the end of the day, it was still just harmless, bona fide, unadulterated hate. You ignored the way your cheeks caught fire and burned beneath your skin as you ran towards the village, towards where you assumed O’i’en was headed, without sparing your biggest, your only enemy a second glance. 
'Cause I have yet to learn how not to be his This city will surely burn if we keep this as it is
You spent hours searching for him, but despite trying every place you knew he liked to frequent, all efforts proved futile. You knew he wouldn’t want to be found, but still, you held a glimmer of hope in your heart that at least subconsciously, he’d want you to find him, to allow him to explain what was mostly inexplainable and inexcusable - you couldn’t blame him for proving you wrong.
Eventually, as eclipse was nearing with each passing moment, defeated and regretful, you went to the nearby river, that was almost deserted due to the approaching evening, that you hoped would bring you some answers, or some solace… some strength. What were you supposed to do? Were you supposed to listen to Eywa, and your own heart telling you to go for this mateship that you knew was wrong, but felt drawn towards, for your own twisted, sadistic reasons? Or should you listen to your mind who told you to fight for what you knew would be a comfortable, healthy future, one that didn’t particularly enthral you, but hoped you could aspire to and embrace in time, with the insight that came with getting older? As always, the war between your mind and heart led to a painful impasse where both of them were bloodied and injured, but no discernible winners were left to claim victory on the choice, or on all the questions that plagued you. 
You recognised Jake’s steps and his scent as he approached you, and you sighed. You were not in the mood for a lecture. Sure enough, he sat next to you, looking at the waterfall falling violently into the otherwise peaceful river, that rippled and bruised at the contact. It was funny to you now, sitting here, how that was a perfect metaphor for your relationship with Neteyam, how in his presence, you were just a river, and he was a force of nature, there to disturb and perturb, there to change you, so aggressive and formidable, and so strangely necessary. You were sad at how much his presence in your life mattered, how you knew that despite all the hurt and the pain, you owed him so much of who you were, so much of where you were. Because he pushed you every day, to be better, to strive for more, to want to be more like him in some ways, less like him in others - a better daughter, a better friend, a better sibling, a better soldier, a better warrior, a better clan member. 
“Hey, kid. What are you doing here, eclipse will be upon us soon. You know the rules.”
“I know the rules, Jake. And with all due respect, right now, I really couldn’t care less about them.”
You turned to him and noted his expression melting from one of annoyance, raised eyebrow and an open mouth, ready to chastise you for your insubordination and recalcitrance, into a soft and pitying one, as he took in your tear-stained face and trembling lips. You never cried, not in front of anyone who mattered, so the fact that here you stood, so obviously distressed, concerned Jake more than he could say out loud.
“What’s wrong, baby girl? What happened?” 
“I… I need to find O'ì'en… I’ve been looking for hours, but I can’t find him. Have you seen him anywhere?” Your sniffles and a hoarse, broken voice were more than enough to bring a grimace to the Olo’eyktan’s face. 
“Oh, honey…” his arms circled your much smaller body and he squeezed, the much needed hug warm and very welcome. Your hand tightened around his forearm, and you started sobbing silently as he held you. You’ve always been immensely grateful for the Sullys and their patriarch, but especially so in moments like this, when his paternal instincts kicked in, a role he was much better at than he ever gave himself credit for. 
“I ruined it… I ruined everything. I should have told him, I should have been honest with him. I should have come to you and asked you to free me of this responsibility that I never wanted to shoulder in the first place.” 
“You can still ask, kid. We would never force you into something you genuinely aren’t comfortable with, and you should know that. In fact, you do know that. But you didn’t come. Why?” 
You had no answer to that, because truthfully, you didn’t know. Getting revenge on Neteyam wasn’t a good enough answer, and more and more, you realised that - and you knew Jake would challenge you on it as soon as the words came out of your mouth. Getting revenge isn’t a good enough reason to sacrifice your own happiness, and liberty, your future as a warrior and your future with the man you wanted to want so badly. It wasn’t a good enough reason because it wasn’t the reason - not the only reason, not the full reason, but that was something you couldn't think about, you couldn't even fathom, not yet, so you didn't.
At your lack of response, Jake sighed and looked contemplatively at the river being perturbed by the waterfall crashing on it, at the way the water rippled and undulated, at the way the bioluminescent glow of the underwater plankton, that was visible now that eclipse settled over the land, warped under its force. 
“Did I ever tell you I had this girlfriend back on Earth? This was when I was young, about your age.” You shook your head softly, not looking at him, still focused and mesmerised by the same view he was studying. 
“She was amazing. So kind, and sweet, and beautiful… and good. Too good for me. And I loved her. She was the first girl I looked at and thought that maybe, just maybe, she would be the one. I used to pick her up after her classes were over and we would just drive in my car, just down the coast, in Anaheim at sundown, and I remember feeling so happy, thinking that I would feel this way the rest of my life.” 
You thought about that, and about your boyfriend, who very much seemed like what Jake was describing, who brought you comfort and safety. You thought about walking with him in this place Jake called Anaheim, in a heavenly place away from hurt and pain, away from mistakes and fears, just two people who loved each other, who wanted to spend the rest of their lives together. You felt grief envelop you when the face that appeared in your visions wasn’t the one you wanted to see, the one you hoped you’d see, the one you needed to see. You hated your brain and your heart for not allowing you to commit to him the way you knew you should, in the way that would ensure you a future of happiness and peace, a love worth harbouring, a pure and kind love, just like the one Jake described. 
“What happened? Between… you and her, I mean?” Jake shrugged, a small, content smile on his face. 
“It just didn’t work out. I joined the military, she continued her studies. We would have never worked. I wasn’t good enough for her, and she deserved someone who could love her the way she was meant be loved. Anaheim is still a beautiful memory to me, and I’ll always cherish it, but it made way for something much, much better. For both of us.
I think sometimes we hold on to things we think we need, we want to want, but these things pertain to a version of ourselves that isn’t fully authentic. I think it’s easy to pretend when we’re with certain people that life is one way, that we could fit in it, in this world we’ve created in our heads, in the world that they inspire, but the sooner we accept the realities of our circumstances, of who we are and where we truly belong, the more time we have to enjoy life for how it’s meant to be lived: fully, wildly, being wholly ourselves.” 
He stood up and headed back towards the village, not before giving you an affectionate pat on the head and a squeeze of your shoulders. His last words echoed in your ears long after he departed, leaving you with so much to think about, and so much pain at knowing he was right, and that soon, you’d have to break a heart and learn to mend your own.
“You can still ask, kid. I just think, deep down, Anaheim isn’t for you… just like it wasn’t for me.” 
But I'd give anything to stop time And drive around Anaheim at sun down And teach my mind to put you first
It took the whole night, but you eventually found him, after a painful conversation with his mother, at a different river he used to love coming to as a little kid with his father, one much further away from the village. He was sitting on the river bank, lost in thought, his feet dangling mindlessly in the water that rushed downstream, agitated and tumultuous, much like your mind. You sighed deeply, trying your hardest to build up the courage for the most difficult conversation you’ve ever had, one in which you knew the end result was a broken heart, one that you caused, that you never meant to, that you would never want. You knew what it was like to be broken-hearted, sad and unmoored from the reality you’ve built up in your mind, from your hopes and dreams, from the future you were promised and now will never have again. But after the conversation with Jake, you knew it was the right thing to do. You loved O'ì'en, you truly did, just not enough to ever give him everything he needed and deserved, not for the rest of your life. You had darkness in you he would never be skilled enough to wander through, to bring light into, and you would never want him to try, not when it would dim his own light, that deserved to be nourished and heightened by someone, who much like him, was good and pure, and better than you’d ever be. 
“O'ì'en…” 
He wasn’t startled by your presence. His gaze didn’t shift from where it was intently fixed, and you knew you shouldn’t expect that it did. You wouldn’t want to look at yourself, either. 
“You know, I watched for so long the interactions between you and Neteyam, and they always made me sad and uncomfortable. The hatred that I could not understand, that seemed to occupy so much of your time and space in both your minds, that consumed you both. I watched it, and I wanted to say something, but I never thought it was my place. It hurt me, seeing you suffer at his hands, and hurt me that you always reciprocated, that you never took the high road, that you always felt the need to one-up him, to give as good as you got. It was so toxic and unhealthy, and I hoped in time, you’d move away from it. I hoped I could help you. But now, I don’t think I’ll ever be able to, not anymore. And I don’t know if I want to.” 
Tears rolled down your face with every word uttered, with every sentence that cut deeper and deeper in you, until you were bleeding and bruised, until it all hurt, being here, seeing him, hearing him, the past and the future, the present and your actions, and Neteyam’s actions, and everything that lead to this moment. It was so much easier to get your heart broken, you realise faintly, than to break a heart. Heartbroken, you could pity yourself, victimise yourself, tell yourself and the world that it’s not you, but the other person, the one who instigated it. You can sleep at night knowing you were wronged, that if it wasn’t for the pain that someone else caused you, things would be different, easier. There was nothing easy about watching a good person suffer and knowing you caused it, and you wondered how you were ever going to fall asleep again, how were you going to be able to live with yourself. 
“I didn’t choose this, O'ì'en… any of this. I need you to know this. Mo’at asked us to come to her as a matter of urgency the other day, she told us that Eywa gave her a sign, showed her a vision, and that by her will, Neteyam and I will have to become a mated-pair.” You felt bad about leaving out certain… extenuating circumstances, but you realise that sometimes, certain things are better left unsaid and once some words are uttered, some actions taken, they can’t be recalled, they can’t be reversed, they won’t dematerialise - their echoes will forever ring through time, leaving damage and hurt in their wake, and you didn’t want that - not for him. 
“Have you told her you don’t want to? Have you gone to the Tsa’hik, or the Olo’eyktan, or the Tsakarem and talked to them, told them you are in love with someone else, that you made up your mind? Did you fight for us at any point? For me?” 
Your eyes widened at his words, that had an edge to them you’ve never observed in him before, that you didn’t even realise he was truly capable of. The words stung needles on your skin and in your eyes, that had prickling tears still falling uninterrupted, like summer rain, soaking your heart and soul that hurt because you knew that you couldn’t give him an answer that would satisfy him… you couldn’t give him an answer at all. 
“They look at you like you’re their daughter. They would listen to you if you asked. But you didn’t, did you?” 
“I once overheard Lo’ak talk about you and Neteyam to his human friend. He was concerned about you. About both of you. But aside from that, he talked about you two like you were an inevitability. About passion that ran so deep there was no way only hatred fuelled it. That there must be something underneath it all. I heard this and it made me angry at the time… I thought that he was unreasonable and out of line. Naively, I took your affection at face value and never looked beyond. Until now, that is. When I realised that in our time together, all the time we shared, all the moments that were sweet and innocent and everything I’ve ever wanted, you’ve never once shared even a fraction of that passion for me.” 
“O'ì'en, no…” 
“I think, deep down, you don’t want to get out of this because it’s finally a way to bridge the gap that has existed between you and Neteyam for so long, a gap you secretly wished had never existed. I think you’ve been in love with him since you were children, and this was the perfect opportunity to change a path you thought was set in stone before. I think he’s in love with you, too. But both of you are too mean, too stubborn with each other to see past your differences. To talk.” 
“You’re wrong.” The temper was rising in your chest as his head continued shaking, denying your statement, as his words were processing in your mind, the unbelievable, insane, unreasonable words that you couldn’t believe were being uttered right before you, not by him. You wanted to scream at him, to shout and tell him that it’s all wrong, all of this, everything is all wrong. That the passion he’s talking about is just intense dislike that was so grand, so overpowering, it couldn’t be contained inside your body, nor inside his. That you were not in love with Neteyam - you hated Neteyam. With every fibre of your being, you loathed the man that hurt you so deeply, so intimately, for so long, that forsook the past you shared and the memories you made and what you meant to him, or what he meant to you.
You wanted to tell him that he’s delusional in ever thinking that man could ever be in love with you, when all he did was find new ways to torture you, to belittle you, to make you feel lesser than him, lesser than anyone he knew. How could that ever be love? How could that ever work? This was love. What you had with O'ì'en. Pure and good and kind and easy. Love wasn’t supposed to hurt, right? Love was supposed to feel natural, like coming home after a long, exhausting day, it wasn’t supposed to be what made the day long and exhausting in the first place. He was so wrong. 
But you didn’t find it in you to argue with him. Not with him. Someone else will have to bear the consequences of your repressed anger, but not O'ì'en, because he deserves better than what he got, and what you gave, and in truth.. none of this mattered anyway. Arguing would make no difference in this doomed relationship, so you calmed yourself for the time being and spoke in as even of a tone you could manage. 
“O'ì'en… I think you’re wrong. But, it doesn’t matter. You’re right that I didn’t talk to Mo’at, and that I should have. Regardless of the circumstances that led to this, I am so sorry. I will forever be sorry for the way you found out, for the way this came to be. I’m so sorry you had to be collateral damage in a war that is only mine to bear. I had a whole plan about how to tell you, I had so many things I wanted to say to you. That I’m grateful to you, and that I love you. That I’m sorry it wasn’t the way that you deserve to be loved, but I do love you. That I will never forget you, and your affection that shone so brightly over me, that was a safe haven from the bad storms I’ve had to weather for so long. That I’ll be sorry every day that I wasn’t good enough for you, but am relieved by the notion that one day, you’ll find someone so much better than me, someone who will be able to give you everything you deserve and then some, and I’m relieved in knowing you will be thankful to have been rid of me.” 
You decided this would have to be enough for now. One day, maybe you’ll be able to face him again. One day, maybe he’ll even be able to spare you a glance, or a smile. But not today. 
“I hope you forgive me one day.” 
“Me, too.” 
But I'd give anything to stop time, commit to you and not crimes Against your truth and lose sight of every divide threatening to undo this story But baby, I'm so sorry, I don't think that I'll ever memorise this route
It was a long way back to the village, and with every step taken and every moment passed, the anger that you tried to stifle for his sake came back ten fold - the tiring days of fighting, of crying, of suffering, of uncertainty and rampant emotions all building up within you, all coming to a calamitous zenith that threatened to spill all around you, that begged and urged for revenge, for payback on the man that caused it all, the man that was at the centre of all your life’s woes.
He ruined your relationship? Well… let’s see how he’ll like a taste of his own medicine. You knew exactly where you’ll find him, because you knew he’d be in the place he knew he could pester you the most, in a place that’s supposed to be yours, that he tainted over and over, that you will make sure to conquer back from him, the way you eventually would all of the pieces of yourselves he’s taken from you through time.
Your tent was quiet and untouched, unlike the little nook behind it, that was completely segregated from the rest of the clan, an oasis of secrecy and privacy in an otherwise bustling environment. A place that should be yours alone, but now hid two Na’vi, one of them mewling softly at the actions of the other. Neteyam was focused on his mate’s neck, their make-out session so intense, they didn’t even notice you until it was too late, until you stood behind them, until your presence was announced by a deep sigh and a disappointed click of your tongue.
“Oh, how disappointing.” 
The girl let out a distressed yelp at your voice and pushed Neteyam off of her, eliciting a deep growl from the man that was less than impressed by the interruption. 
“Am I interrupting?”  
You saw Neteyam’s eyes widened slightly at the sight of you, at the way he knew what was coming. You laughed at his expression. What did he think was going to happen after what he’s done? What did he think you were going to do finding them here? The evil smirk that possessed you reminded you of his, and you wondered if this is how panicked you looked, too, when you saw him approaching you and O'ì'en.
“You know, if you’re going to continue going against the Olo’eyktan and the Tsa’hik’s wishes and cheat on your mate, I wouldn’t do it… you know, right outside of her tent.” 
“WHAT?!” The high-pitched screech nearly deafened you, but you didn’t let it show. Instead you just watched as Neteyam scrambled to get himself out of the eye of the storm threatening to tear him apart.
“Tìlor, I -“ 
“Ah, your boyfriend didn’t tell you?” Your smile was sickeningly sweet as you approached the couple, stopping right next to Neteyam, placing a hand on his arm, tracing the protruding veins that made saliva pool in your mouth, and you bit back a laugh at the girl’s rabid look, that looked a lot like she was going to pounce on you at any given moment - you hoped she did. Nothing would make you happier than to have an excuse to rearrange her braids. This girl that always looked down on you, that looked at you like you were an outsider or a freak, that never even tried to mask her jealousy, her disdain, her fear at the fact the Sullys preferred you, and always will. 
“I will be your Tsa’hik soon. Isn’t that right… yawne?” 
“So unless you want me to go and tell the clan leaders… and your mother… and your father, and everyone who matters that you’ve been fucking someone else’s mate and watch as little by little, your entire world falls apart around you, I suggest you realise this man right here, he’s not worth it. Not worth all the drama, not worth all the fuss. Just go, and find yourself a single mate, and give thanks to Eywa she’s rid you of him, cause damn, I know I wish I could be.” 
The hatred in her eyes was slowly replaced with fear and embarrassment, and for a second, just a second - you felt bad for her. Because no matter how badly she’s treated you, how she’s adopted Neteyam’s behaviour as her own with no reason or rhyme, much like O'ì'en, she was also just another collateral victim in a war that kept claiming lives and hearts, and you wondered where, if at all, the line would be drawn, when, if ever, would enough be enough?
You watched as she scrambled to fasten her top around her neck properly and without another word, she was gone, leaving just you and Neteyam alone, with enough tension in the air around you to suffocate you, to feel like smoke from a fire so grand, you didn't know if weren’t skilled enough to put out.
'Cause I have yet to know how to be mine You can try to unearth this soul I swear you'll hate what you find
“Why?” 
“You’re making out with someone behind my tent, knowing that would piss me off, after what you did yesterday, and you have the nerve to ask me why?” you threw your head back and laughed at the outrageousness of the question. Neteyam wasn’t stupid - far from it. He was also not naive, or oblivious, or harebrained. The question had no business coming out of his mouth, but yet it did. You didn't have time to ponder the reasons why.
“You see, Neteyam, I think you came here because you knew I’d come. Because you secretly wanted me to. Because you know deep down that this girl has nothing to offer you, and you just needed an easy way out to rid yourself of her, and you needed me to do your dirty work for you again. Well, you’re welcome, Neteyam. What the fuck would you ever do without me, huh?”
“You’re such a fucking hypocrite. All the theatricals of being heartbroken over what I did to O'ì'en and then you do the exact same thing to someone else, someone innocent.”
“Innocent, ha! You think I give a shit about your little girlfriend’s feelings, when you treated O'ì'en the way you did? He didn’t deserve this, Neteyam. Any of this. He’s good man, he respects you, and looks up to you. He -“ 
“He should have known better than to associate himself with you.” His bared fangs didn’t do as much to scare you, not nearly as much as his proximity to you did, at the way his eyes stared daggers at your face, that even in the heat of the moment, at the peak of anger and hatred, couldn’t help settle on your parted, wet lips. “He should have known better and realise that all you bring in people’s life is disappointment and pain. He also should have known better and realise you didn’t love him. That you never will. That you might try to act like it and convince yourself, but someone like him would never, ever satisfy you.” 
“And who the fuck would satisfy me, Neteyam? You? That’s rich. I bet your poor little girlfriend’s happy she’s rid of you. Bet you haven’t made her cum once. Too busy thinking of training and ruining my life, too busy thinking about how great you think you are to make room for anyone else in there.” You poked him in the chest with your index finger, right over his heart. Your touch lingered on his body, somehow unable to bring yourself to stop, half in awe at the way his heart was racing, at the way yours beat almost in sync with his, at the way you tried to convince yourself it’s because of the anger you were feeling, and no other reason.
“Yeah? Is that what you think?” 
And there he was again, once more grabbing you by your throat, and you wanted to object, and fight him, but you didn’t - you couldn’t -, not as you felt throbbing deep within you at the action, not as you had to push your thighs together to accommodate for the increasingly uncomfortable sensation, not as your loincloth was becoming more and more damp by the second. And you remember your words, and remember that you told him that if he ever touched you again, you’ll make him pay for it, but right now, in this moment, you couldn’t find it in you to speak a word, as the intensity of his gaze knocked the air out of your lungs and his fingers squeezed just enough so no more could get back in you. Your back scratched painfully against a tree as he pushed you into it, and you couldn’t help a small moan as his other hand pushed your loincloth to the side, brushing over your folds that were now sopping and swollen. He let out a soft chuckle as he felt you.
“If that’s what you really thought, you wouldn’t be dripping on my fingers right now, tsxepvi.” 
Slowly, deliberately, he started exploring your heat, thumb ghosting over your clit as he watched you squirm under his touch, struggling between what you knew you should do, between your conscious mind telling you you were going to pay for this in tears and heartache, and your subconscious mind screaming to let go, to embrace the overbearing desire to give in to him, as you did in the dreams you convinced yourself in time were nightmares, but knew more and more each day that it was just another lie you told yourself to keep going. 
One side of you won by a landslide, as he gently pushed two fingers in you, as he started increasing the pressure with which he was massaging your clit, and it felt so good, too good, better than anything you’ve ever felt before. You tried to contain the sounds coming through gritted teeth with all your might, knowing what he was doing, knowing giving him any indication of the pleasure he was giving you would mean another thing you’d have to pay for later, knowing you couldn’t allow him to enjoy this, you couldn’t possibly give him the satisfaction of knowing he could do this to you, but you couldn’t stop, not when his fingers curled in you and found the spongy part that made you see glimmering, blinding lights and his thumb circled your needy bud in the perfect way to heighten the sensations running through you, electrifying your every nerve. The moans turn into mewls as he increases the pressure and his pace, and you felt the pleasure in you reach a high that you were ready to ride out, your orgasm so close you could practically taste it, and you’re barely able to think about how fucking quick it was, how it took no time at all for him to get you there, how skilled his fingers, as they worked his ministrations on you. You had no will to think about what the fuck was happening, how weird it was, how the man you’ve hated for so long is doing this to you, before the feeling got too overwhelming to be contained anymore.
“Fuck, i’m gonna -“ 
“That’s right, tsxepvi. I can feel you squeezing my fingers. You want to come for me?” 
“Argh, I-“ 
The moan you let you wasn’t of pleasure, it was of deep, throbbing pain as the emptiness overtook you, as soon as he removed his fingers.
He smirked, an evil smile tugging at the corners of his mouth, as his fingers found his lips and he sucked on them, his tongue swirling in between them, licking every single drop. 
“You taste fucking amazing, tsxepvi. Maybe next time, if you apologise and behave, you’ll actually get to cum.” 
And with that, he was gone, living you an empty, horrified mess, as the high came crashing down violently and the consequences of the last few minutes replaced it to lead you in a spiral of mixed thoughts and feelings, each one more terrifying than the last. 
'Cause I am lost, but not in you Yes, I am lost, but not in you
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tinkerbelle05 · 9 months
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Spiderman Kiss: Miles
Genre: Fluff, Slightly Angsty
Summary:
Warnings: cussing (just 1)
Translation: mi sol = my sun
A/N: These were the same so I decided to put it in one post. Readers for both fics is black coded.
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You knew that Miles was Spiderman for some time now. He told you on your 2nd anniversary, he was late yet again to the restaurant and you’ve had enough of it.
There was an argument, things you both regretted were said and you both felt horrible about it. In the end he came by your bedroom window with his suit on, showed off his powers, and explained everything to you.
“This is why I'm late for everything. It's not because I don't love you or that I don't care for the stuff that you care about. It's just something’s always happening in New York,” he explains to you.
You took it all in, and in a way it made sense. This was months ago now and the two of you fell into a routine of sorts.
He would disappear to go off being Spiderman but will try to text you so you wouldn't worry too much. And you will cover for him.
“Oh Miles, he had to go to the bathroom, Miss.”
“Oh he told me that there was some family emergency.”
“He was having some..issues.”
The constant lying was tiresome but you two made it work, somehow. It was nighttime when you heard the knock on your window, you were binging a show so time escaped you.
You walked towards the window with mild annoyance until you saw Miles at the window upside down from the thread of his web. Instantly your heart leaped out of chest, it's been a while since you've seen him. Now you were just slightly annoyed with him.
You unlocked and opened the window, cool breeze made it’s way into your room.
“What are you doing here, Miles? Isn't it a bit late?” You asked him, leaning against the wall. You two were close, really close.
“Uh well I missed you so,” he admits to you and he seems to notice how close you both are two, with his avoiding eyes.
You chuckle softly, “Yea I missed you too. Guess it's the price I pay for dating the Spiderman.”
He laughs at that, and your heart just aches. You missed his laugh, the comfortable silence that envelopes when you both are together, you missed him.
You grabbed his head and lifted his masks to reveal his lips. You kissed him softly. He smelled like laundry detergent and mint toothpaste.
“Oh, an upside down kiss, huh? Was that in your bucket list?” Miles joked and cracked a smile.
You rolled your eyes and poked his cheek, “Your the one hanging upside down and I just saw an opportunity then took it. Don’t act as if you didn’t like it.”
“Yea, yea,” Miles said. He went to open his mouth but then his watch thing started beeping rapidly. “Shit, I have to go.”
“Is it serious?” You asked. You were looking at the screening, it was flashing red which honestly doesn’t seem too good.
“Yeah it’s probably pretty bad out there. I should get going,” he admits and you can feel how disappointed he is. You feel it too. It’s been barely 15 minutes and he already has to go.
Guess it’s the price for dating Spiderman, or one of them.
You kiss him again, “It’s all good, Miles. Go, just come back.”
His smile came back, “For you, mi sol, always.”
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Spiderman Kiss: Pavitr
Genre: Angst, Comfort
Summary:
Warnings: near death experiences, mentions of death
Translation: Piya = Beloved, Jaanu = Treasure
A/N: Yea the plot kinda expanded while I was writing. Oops 😅
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You were falling. You remembered that. There were bits and pieces to your memory on how you got there. You remembered the rain, how cold it felt on your skin. You remember that it was dark, it was an alleyway. You remembered the villain of the week who kidnapped you.
Who dangled you off the side of the building where he dropped you from.
You were terrified.
“(Y/N)!” You heard Spiderman yell. He was scaling the buildings with his web shooters. His arms reaching out to grab you, any part of you.
Were you going to be saved? You won't die then?
But the ground was fast approaching and there was still a wide gap between him and you. And he was tired and bruised. His movements were slower and wilder. Desperate.
But it will be fast, the death. From this height, you’ll fall and that will be the end of it. At least you won’t suffer. At least your family and friends won’t suffer. Mom, Dad, Pavitr.
There won’t be any agonizing months in the hospital. Them praying to any god that’ll listen that you will survive this. At least they won’t suffer like that.
“I got you!” Spiderman yelled out you and you fell into a web. Relief washed over you in waves and tried to catch your breath. “Are you okay?” He cradled your head softly, his fingers grazing your body gently as he looked you over for injuries.
He looked scared, and you could understand it. Watching someone die wasn’t an easy thing to deal with. Especially when your the one saving them but despite that there was something odd in the way he was acting.
“Um Spiderman?” You looked at him quizzically because while his hold on you calmed your nerves, you really should get to the hospital. And call your parents. And Pavitr.
He practically jumped away from you, “Oh, um I’m sorry.” He looked away and laugh awkwardly. “I called an ambulance so they should get here soon. Let me help you down.” He extended his hand to you which you took and with careful, slow steps you made your way down.
It felt good to be on solid ground again it helped calm your heart down a bit. Then the ambulance came and whisked you to the hospital.
Thankfully you didn't have anything serious going on, just cuts and bruises. The doctors said they wanted to keep you for a day, just to make sure. Your parents called every two hours. The city’s brigde was damaged serverly by the villain of the week so they couldn't be there with you, unfortunately. And no matter how many times you called or texted Pavitr, he wouldn't answer. You hoped he wasn't hurt.
It was very lonely but you promised yourself that you wouldn’t cry if you do then you won't stop. In the midst of your misery, you heard the tapping from the window. You saw Spiderman hanging upside down, he gave you a little wave.
You walk over to the window and open it. You were surprised to see him but it wasn't unwelcome. Plus it was nice to be around someone that wasn't a nurse or a doctor.
“Hi Spiderman, are you okay?” He looked a bit tattered and beaten up. His hair, which was usually smooth, was now dirty and sticking all over the place. His suit had cuts of all sizes.
He scratched the back of his head, “Um, actually I was going to ask you that. That fall, um, it seemed terrifying and I wanted to check up on you.”
You leaned back a bit. You couldn’t understand it but there was something off about Spiderman. Was his voice cracking?
“Oh thanks, Spiderman. You visit everyone you save?”
“Huh, well I try to,” he told you. “May I come in? I have some important to tell you.”
You widen your eyes at that because what could Spiderman possibly have to to tell you. You nod your head even though you were still confused. You walked backwards some to make room for Spiderman.
He sighs and paces a bit. He doesn’t say anything but you could tell he was nervous about whatever he has to tell you.
“I’m sure it can’t be too bad,” you attempted to encourage him. His nervousness was started to make you nervous.
“Okay, I’m just going to say it,” he told you with his back turned to you. “But please don’t freak out when I do, okay.”
“Um okay then.”
He takes off his mask and turned around.
Your knees almost gave out when you saw his face. It’s a face your familiar with, it’s Pavitr. Standing right in front of you in Spiderman’s suit. Or well his suit you guessed.
“So your…?” You couldn’t get the words out. That’s why Pavitr wasn’t answering your calls because he was too busy fighting villain after villain. You look at him again.
He had a bloody nose and bruised cheek. And the scars on his body looked worse under the harsh bright lights of your hospital room.
“I’m sorry,” he said. “I wanted to tell you so many times but it just never seemed like it was the right moment.”
You walked over to him and you could see the tiredness in his eyes. You hugged him and he melts into your arms. He was so strong. Dealing with all of this by himself. But god you are still screaming on the inside. You had millions of questions but Pavitr, he didn’t look well.
“You have nothing to be sorry about Pavi,” you comforted him and walked him over to your bed. You noticed how he was limping and winced.
“What are you doing?” He asked and looked at you in confusion.
“Fixing you up,” you responded. You had to do something. He looked terrible and well you are still freaking out that your boyfriend is Spiderman. So you will help him the only way you can.
You found the first aid kit and started to clean the blood off of Pavitr’s cheek. You tried being delicate when you saw him flinching a bit.
“I’m sorry,” he repeated again but quieter this time. “I thought I could do this on my own but I was wrong.”
“It’s okay,” you told him. “There is no reason to be sorry about anything, Pavi.” You were about to kiss him but his watch thing started bleeping rapidly.
He glanced down at his watch and got up immediately, and you followed him.
“Pavi, where-. Where are you going.” You grabbed on to his arm. He was hurt and still wanted to go back. Why?
“Jaanu, I have to go. The city needs me,” he argued.
“Your still hurt! You could get more hurt, you could die,” you protested.
He stopped at the doorway, “I know, Jaanu, I know. But someone has to protect Mumbattan. I can't promise I won’t come back hurt, but I will promise that’ll come back to you. Haven't I always come back to you?”
You were taken aback but his speech because he was right. He'd always came back, and that’d have to be enough for you. For now.
You’ve loosen your grip on his hand but couldn’t let go until he was oh the balcony. He shot up webs (You’ve always wondered how that work. You’d ask Pavi when he come back to you) and hung upside.
You stared at eachother for a while before you thought of something bold. You got close to the railing and took off Pavi’s mask. Just revealing his lips, and kissed them.
“What was that for? Good luck?” He joked, a smile gracing his face. It was nice to see him smiling.
“Yea, something like that,” you replied and putted his mask back on.
He gives you a playful salute and slings off into the darkness.
When you go back inside of your room and lay on your bed, it finally hits you.
My boyfriend’s Spiderman.
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Which did you like more? Miles or Pavitr
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gay-wh0re-slut · 7 months
Note
Hi! Can you write some angst + NSFW ending with the prompt
“You think I wanted this to happen? You think I, of all people, wanted to fall in love with you? This is why I knew I shouldn’t have gotten close to you.”
oooohohohohooo this is a good oneeee
idk if i can think of a way of ending with this but maybe somewhere in the beginning or middle/end ish? i hope that’s alright? it’ll still be angsty tho don’t worryyyy (i hope) hehe but thank you for the request!!
after writing: i kinda broke up what you wanted to be said and added a few things, i hope that’s okay
Please
content: rhea ripley x fem reader, angst, NSFW but pretty vanilla unfortch :/ sorry friends
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Working backstage at WWE has its perks: getting to talk with the superstars, seeing how everything is put up and taken down, getting to go behind the scenes of the show; but it also has its downsides. You’re up late at night after the show taking everything down, cleaning up after everyone, making sure everything is put back in its place in the trucks to move to the next city. You’re always tired because of the schedule they have you on. Very rarely do you get time for yourself so you haven’t even thought of trying to have any kind of relationship.
Lately, you’ve been a bit on edge. Is it the lack of sleep? Probably. Is it the crush you have on THE Rhea Ripley when you swore to yourself you would never date a coworker? Most likely.
You’ve never voiced that you had this, but a lot of your coworkers have told you multiple times that you suck at hiding it. The way you stumble your words around her, or how your face gets red when she’s brought up in conversation, or how you refuse to talk to or about her in case of messing everything up. You’ve never had a crush last this long and it was eating you alive. It was hard to work sometimes because you would just stare, she was so captivating.
Unfortunately, one day the goth wrestler caught you staring and decided it would be a good idea to talk to you. “Hey, (y/n), you alright?”
“Huh?” your face became red, “oh yeah sorry, got caught in a daze.”
“Don’t apologize, I can tell you’re tired,” she sounded so caring, this was not helping your case, “they work you all too hard back here.”
You nervously laugh it off, “yeah, but that’s show biz.”
“Tell me about it,” she sighs, “You sure you’re okay?”
“Oh, psshh! Yeah totally,” you wave her pity away landing your hands on your hips.
“I know I’m scary looking but I’m always here if you want to talk. I know how it can be, trust me,” she takes out her phone, “let me get your number in case you want to chat.”
Oh god, oh fuck.
“Y-yeah for sure,” you hesitate grabbing the phone. You shake as you type your number in, you see that she already has your name typed out with the bubbles emoji next to it. “Why the bubbles?”
“You’re always bubbly,” she says casually with a small smile.
“Right,” you smile as you hand back the phone, “thank you.”
“For what?”
“Checking up on me.”
“Us tired people gotta stay together,” she laughs, “I’ll see ya around, yeah?”
“I’ll be here!” You give her a weak thumbs up as you watch her walk away.
“God,” you groan as you begin to fan yourself. You got nervously hot trying to muster up any sort of coherent sentence. Hopefully you didn’t sound too weird, you kinda blacked out for a second. “My number?!” you whisper to yourself, “that’s crazy.”
You could barely think about anything else the rest of the day constantly checking your phone to see if she texted you. Luckily, nothing happened. You were relieved when you went to the hotel that night and saw that she hadn’t texted you because that meant you couldn’t mess it up. You kept telling yourself that this was a silly crush that will go away soon…but you’ve said that for the past three months.
You didn’t realize the time until you heard your phone ding at 2:43am.
hey, it’s rhea
Of course her texts are all lowercase. You lay staring at the screen. Do you answer? Do you lie tomorrow and say that you actually fell asleep?
hey! what’s up
You decide to text back, what’s the use in lying, you thought.
i knew you’d be awake
you caught me
these hotel beds aren’t the best for people who can’t sleep huh
idk mine’s pretty comfy
Was that flirting? You weren’t sure, but hopefully she didn’t take it that way. The last thing you need is for her to start having a crush on you.
damn, you’re lucky. maybe i should come sleep with you then haha
Oh no, what do I say? Yes? Is she joking? Surely she’s just joking…fuck.
if i’m lucky again, maybe the next hotel we can share a room
Oh yeah good save…totally not flirting.
sounds like a plan
good. well i’m going to try to sleep hopefully
me too, we both have a long travel day tomorrow
goodnight ripley
sleep well (y/n)
You’ve only just realized that you’ve been cheesing at your phone this whole interaction. She’s taken over your entire being.
It was now 3:15am and you had a flight at 7:30am, so you might as well just lay there with your eyes closed in hopes of getting some sort of rest.
The week has passed, it was Monday again. Though the show starts at seven at night, crew had to be there at ten in the morning to make sure everything was ready before the stars showed up at two. You and Rhea hadn’t texted much, just some hello’s here and there with a few how’s your day’s, though she was on your mind constantly.
As the time drew closer and closer for the australian to walk through the door, you avoided that door at all costs. You tried to do anything to get you away from her path to her dressing room. Sweeping, wiping, snacking, literally anything.
“How’s the bed?” her accent flew threw the air behind you.
“W-what?” you turn around quickly.
She meets your gaze and stops a few feet in front of you with her little booty shorts and big tshirt, no makeup with her beefy arms crossed, “did you get lucky?”
You widen your eyes as you were taken aback, trying to process what she just said for a good few seconds before you realize what she was talking about, “oh!” you sigh in relief, “sorry! Yeah, no, got the lumpiest in the whole building probably,” you chuckle.
“Damn, seems like we switched sides this time around-,” she smirked.
You cut her off before anything else could happen, “Ha! I guess so,” you take a carrot from the snack table and chomp down, “I- uh… gotta go mop… th-the back hallway, see you later!” you lied. You basically ran away from her. You’ve already mopped that hallway… twice. Something about her in the shorts and tshirt made you so nervous.
Time went on, the show went on, the audience left, and luckily you’ve avoided the buff goth the whole night successfully.
“Hey, (y/n), Rhea’s looking for you. She’s in her room,” one of the PA’s said, nervously, “she seems a bit upset.”
Oh no, was all you could think. Repeating it in your head with every step, getting louder and louder, until you finally reached her door. You take a long deep breath before knocking lightly.
“It’s open,” she yelled through the wood.
So you walk in, closing the door behind you, you stand right behind the threshold not wanting to go any closer. She was already back in her tshirt, but this time she was wearing sweatpants. Her makeup was still on though with her hair rough with sweat.
“Are you avoiding me?” she asked bluntly.
“No,” you answer a little too quickly.
“You sure? Cause it sure does seem like it,” her arms crossed with anger.
“I’m pretty sure,” you lie again.
“Then why haven’t I seen you all day?” she sneaks closer to you.
“I’ve been…working, it was busy today,” you step back.
“You just so happened to be extra busy today,” she stood wide in front of you, basically pushing you against the door.
You couldn’t think, she was so close you could smell the faint cologne she put on earlier that was left on the shirt. You settle for a small nod, holding your breath, hoping she would take that as an answer.
She didn’t, “I don’t believe you,” she growled.
“Well, I-”
“What? You think you can be friendly one day and the next you just completely ignore me?” she threw her hands up in surrender before landing them on her hips.
Your heart was beating a million miles a minute, you could barely breathe, “I-I’m sorry, I didn’t thin-”
“Yeah, you didn’t think. You didn’t think how I would feel, did you?” she stepped back a little as she turned away from you shaking her head.
You didn’t dare say anything.
A few moments passed of her staring at the wall with her jaw clenched and you plastered to the door deciding whether or not to make a run for it.
She dropped her chin to her chest with a big sigh, “look,” she started calmly, which was scarier than earlier somehow, “being me,” she gestured towards herself turning back to you, “it’s hard to make friends, so when you were one of the only people that were nice to me I thought we had something going.”
“Rhea…” you drop your guard, but only a little.
“Please,” she held her hand up and you shut your mouth immediately. “I try so hard to be nice to everyone. I’ve been betrayed so many times it’s hard to let the walls down.”
Now you’re the one stepping towards her in hopes of creating some sort of comfort.
“I don’t want to be let down again,” she admits.
“I understand,” you whisper.
She didn’t take the comfort, “How could you? Everyone loves you! I’ve never seen you not make a friend. You’re so nice and caring,” her voice raised again. “So when you didn’t talk to me all day, I knew it was something I did. And I can’t bare to have another ‘friend’, ” she air quoted, “leave me because of…me.”
Your heart sank at her words. You did think of her as a friend except you wanted her to be more than a friend, which was the problem. You scoured your brain thinking of something to say that would make her feel better, until it clicked.
“You think I wanted this to happen?” you finally say.
“What?” she barks.
“I like you, Rhea, a little too much actually,” your heart was beating indescribably fast.
She just stared in surprise.
“You think I, of all people, wanted to fall in love with you?”
“In lov-” she began to question.
“This is why I knew I shouldn’t have gotten close to you. I would’ve gotten too close and I was afraid that you wouldn’t love me back,” you finally admit with a sigh. Your eyes begin to form tears but you try your best to suck them back in.
The purple eyeshadow blinks. Without a second thought, she rushed towards you grabbing your face, pulling you in for a deep kiss. After a few seconds, you push her away. Piercing blue eyes were just as surprised as yours as if she didn’t know she was going to do that either.
Still holding your jaw, “I- I’m sorry. I shouldn’t hav-”
You pull her back in by her waist to kiss her once more. Your lips moving gracefully against hers. You knew the black lipstick was smearing, but you couldn’t care less. She gently walked you backwards towards the door with a small push to pin you against it. One of her hands found its way to your back pulling you in as close as possible. Heavy breaths filled the room as lips continued to dance.
Her hand sneaked its way to the button of your pants, “can I…” she panted.
You nod your head, “mhmm,” you whine, as you go back to kissing her.
She swiftly undoes the button and sneaks her hand in, but not in your underwear. She was gently caressing your center, when small moans fell out of you. Her free hand grabbed your neck and tilted your head to the side to allow her to kiss your neck, leaving black marks as she went.
“Is this okay?” the accent whispered.
“Yess,” you breathe, “do whatever…you want to me.”
“Oh?” she kisses up your neck between words, “how about…I just… give you a taste… of what could happen…then later…I’ll show you…what I can really do,” by now her pace has quickened and the familiar knot in your stomach is quickly being untangled.
You could only nod your head in response, not wanting to moan too loud in fear of someone hearing you from the other side of the door. Your lips catch hers once more as you whine into her mouth.
It didn’t take long for you to almost come undone. Your hips were slightly riding her hand as she moved perfectly against you, “that’s it, love, don’t hold back,” she held your neck a little harder than gentle, secure against the door.
The oxygen left your lungs and the knot finally loosened as you slammed your head against the door. “Fuuuck,” you moan. Your legs were weakening by the second as she tried her best to hold you up. You scratched your way down her back as she chuckled in your ear at the slight pain.
As you came back to earth, your lips met hers a few more times before she removed her hand and buttoned your pants back up for you.
She let you catch your breath still holding you against the door but her hands were now at your waist with most of her body flush with yours. “Now, do you want me to come to your room or you come to mine?”
“I thought you had the nice bed this time,” you breathe.
“Oh yeah,” she smirked knowing what the answer was already, “my room it is then. See you there,” she kissed you once more before removing herself from you. She grabs her bags and gestures towards the door.
You open the door and let her through, following behind her. “I’ll meet you at the hotel, I have to grab my stuff,” you walk the opposite way.
“Don’t take too long, or we’ll be up all night,” she winked towards you.
“See you soon, Ripley.”
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bomber-grl · 1 month
Text
Touch Starved
Pairing(s): Hiro Hamada x Gn!reader
Summary: you’re rarely the touchy type but when you get into a fight with your parents you leave home. The only person on your mind is Hiro so you drop by his house in hopes of comfort.
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They were so stupid. Obviously you felt even more strongly about your parents at the moment but that’s what automatically came to mind.
They just don’t understand and sure you’re acting like an angsty misunderstood teenager but that’s exactly what’s happening. Whatever, they’re the reason their teen kid is walking out at night.
Well, regardless of what you thought you were brought out of your head. You were now in front of hiros window, the window that you’d try and climb and hope to not get caught doing so.
Luckily for you, you brought along some gadget you invented while at SFIT so with some A LOT of effort you managed to make it through his window.
Ok, step 1 complete.
….
That’s all you got, you hadn’t planned ahead and now you were standing in the middle of Hiros bedroom luckily without causing any sort of racket What a lie
Well because of how in your own head you were you completely tuned out the footsteps walking towards the door. Aaaaand now you’re face to face with Hiro..
“Uhh hi?” He says a bit awkwardly, he’d been taking a shower if the towel around his neck and wet hair was anything to go by.
He steps out of the door frame and into the room. He’s staring at you…
Huh??? Hes staring at you
“So? Why’re you here” you can practically hear his smile through his tone.
“Oh! Well uh… I just wanted to hang out” that’s all you said, he immediately got it and stepped closer, a little too close.
“Kay, want to play games or something?” He asked nonchalantly, and of course you answered-
“Sure”
-
It had been fun, you and hiro were laughing until it hurt if the ridiculous drawings of each other were anything to go off of.
Half way through your little hang out Cass might have heard the commotion as she popped in and offered some sweet snacks, luckily not suspecting anything.
Now? It was quiet, you both calmed down and you were sitting on his bed and he was standing.
“So uhh, what’s been up with you?” He asks obviously stepping on egg shells around you.
“Huh?” You perk up “what’re you talking about?” You really didn’t know.
He laughs awkwardly “don’t think I haven’t noticed your weird behavior.”
You cleared you throat but hiro interjected “look I-“
Suddenly hiro back was against the wall and despite almost tripping over Baymaxs charge box-thing he managed to hold onto you, you were hugging him.
What you did didnt sink in until you felt his hands reach around you.
Suddenly you became hyper aware, he was breathing close to your neck, his hair was tickling your cheek and most of all? You could feel his heart pounding against yours, and to say it rivaled it wasn’t exactly an understatement.
You held him back of course, your face hid away in his neck and after a moment of stiffness hiro relaxed once more.
You thought you were being silly for reacting this way, but hiro? He was just as much head over heels for you as you were for him.
His face was bright red and all he could hope was for you not to notice, he really couldn’t handle any teasing after this.
Then you let go and backed away. Seeing your face was much more reassuring for him.
It was silent until you both spoke
“I-“hey” you glanced from the floor to him in an instant
“Sorry- “you can go first”, you guys spoke at the same time, again..
You spoke up once and for all “you speak first, please do..” the last part was said in your head but who’s to say otherwise?
“Uh, what’s really up with you?” He breathed in and then out “you can tell me, and if you don’t want to? Well that’s ok.”
The last feelings of conflict left you and you finally told hiro about the big fight with your insufferable parents- albeit in a bunch of jumbled words.
He smiled obviously trying to hide it and when he asked why you hugged him? You told him that you just wanted to be held…
WHY WOULD YOU SAY THAT??-
“Oh..” hiros face went ablaze and was now covered in a darker shade of red. Atleast now he couldn’t tease or say anything sarcastic-
He spoke again “then I’m assuming you’re sleeping here?”
-
And boy was he right, now you’re here laying in his bed while he brushes his teeth.
Luckily Cass had a spare and he let you use the restroom before him.
Now you were laying here in suspense, your heart was practically pounding in your chest and you were filled with all kinds of nervous energy.
The door creaked open and in popped in hiros head, then followed by him as a whole.
He stood around the bed for a second, very obviously hesitating. Then he went all in and laid down
He was faced away from you but once you reached out to touch his neck it was hot to the touch.
“U-uHm” his voice cracked “you want to talk about it any more?”
He was going for the normal approach
“No, just… hold me, ok?” You really didn’t know how to respond, was it even possible to say this in a relatively normal way? You rlly don’t think so.
He flushed again then opened his arms. You joined to lay in them and despite the constant pounding of a heart you couldn’t decide was his or yours; you enjoyed it.
It was nice to finally be able to be affectionate with someone.
The next morning rolled around and the two of you got ready and headed down.
You two were met with a delicious looking breakfast and cass may have picked up on the energy between you two because she asked
That morning you witnessed your boyfriend hiro having the Heimlich maneuver performed on him by no other than his own aunt.
-
For those who can’t read between the lines, the last paragraph is basically saying that since hiro and reader were already having tension from the events of last night, cass brought it up and startled hiro- catching him off guard. Prompting him to choke on his food)
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cerealboxlore · 1 year
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ok so just imagine one of the younger jl members or yjl members decide to ask the older members why they decided to become a hero/their origin story and some of the members are answering, some preferring not to, giving different sorts of answers but they all chose to use their circumstances to become a hero
and then they get to marvel
of course marvel has the nature? i guess? of a hero with his whole “do good and good will follow” thing but he never really wanted to be a hero in a fair few versions (i think, don’t source me), he was chosen but didn’t do the choosing
when he was “offered” (in quotation marks because he was basically forced into it anyways, his consent was dubious at best) he basically said ‘no, i’m not the right guy for this’ but was pressured into it anyways
rather than deciding to be a hero, it was more like he decided to do good with what he had, and what he had were superpowers
so just imagine them asking marvel why he chose to be a hero and marvel saying “i didn’t”
(depending on the age you depict him as getting his powers could make some difference, my automatic age for him being chosen is like 9 for some reason)
High time I answered this amazing ask, holy cow it's been cooking in here for some time
I really love the idea of a younger JL/YJL member going around and coordinating interviews with the older superheroes and getting their origin stories and asking questions on why they decided to become who they are today. Perhaps after all the news and stories they've heard from a certain popular radio host, Whiz Kid, they wanted to be like them a little with this personal project of theirs.
Every hero they ask either gives them a simple answer of "it was what I was meant to do", or, "I want to help people", or "eh, I had free time, why not". There are some that refuse to answer (batman), but that only makes the interviews become more fun and exciting. The young hero is learning so much from their elders, and once they get to Captain Marvel, they think his answer is going to be a delightful and sunny one, as expected from a cheerful guy like him.
They expected his answer to be simple, maybe even adding some humor to it. Like, "Well, someone had to compete with superman" or "it was my biggested dream to become a hero just like my heroes".
But.
They don't get that kind of answer from him.
"Hm? Oh, I didn't."
"...Huh? I'm sorry, excuse me, but, what? What do you mean you didn't choose to become a hero? Why are you a hero now when you didn't want to be?"
"Oh gosh, I didn't expect this kind of question, but I guess...well it's because it wasn't exactly planned. There was never really any chance for me to have a choice in the matter. I didn't choose to be a hero, I just chose to do good with what I had all of sudden, you know? I never thought of becoming a hero until it actually happened, and I didn't know I WAS a hero until people starting calling me one. Ha, can you believe that? Really blew me away hearing people of my city call me their hero. Me, of all people."
"...huh. That's...really incredible, Captain Marvel. But, what do you mean, you didn't have a choice in the matter?"
"ha...well, let's just say that some things are just meant to happen, and they can't be avoided, no matter what....yeah...."
The younger superhero then sees what they swore was a split second melancholy emotion drown Captain Marvel's eyes, then just as quickly disappear when the man excuses himself to leave.
Gosh that got a little angsty there for a moment, but I really enjoy the idea of Captain Marvel initially refusing his powers and not believing himself in being worthy. He really was pressured into those powers, and he deserved to know what he was in for before being made Champion of Magic. A warning, before Billy entered a world of his heroes, and his worst nightmares.
Maybe the wizard knew that if the child knew what dangers were to come, perhaps he would have refused. Or. Maybe it was pointless to tell Billy, because the soul of a bright hero and a pure heart, radiated that much within Billy, that the wizard knew he would be a hero no matter what in the end.
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adaptacy · 8 months
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Hi! Since requests are open I wanted to suggest a second part to the fic you wrote about Johnny escaping from prison and tracking you down, obviously sexually frustrated, missing the touch of his partner and being treated with basic human decency. It would be so cool if you could make it angsty too 🥲
hiiii anon! here you go :)
no smut here but rough treatment/handling and angst.
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It was gentle, but it was still a push. A push away. He remained in the same spot, though his head recoiled, and he looked down at you, eyes narrowed, irritated with your choice. "Why?" He hissed.
"It's been twelve years. You're a fugitive, Johnny. I- I have a son. We can't be doing this," you stammer, shaking your head as you keep him away with a palm against his chest. "I'm sorry."
"None of that shit matters. C'mon, darlin'. I've missed you," he stressed, pushing back against your hand and nearing your lips again, but you pulled away.
"I'm serious. I'm sorry, maybe I led you on, but... I never intended to- Can't you see? Don't you... see the problem?" You asked, your voice light, trying to remain unaccusatory. You understood him to an extent; you'd been able to make a life for yourself, and he'd been nothing but a spectator to the outside world. You were living a completely different story from his. And your paths had crossed in the past, but they weren't meant to cross again.
Hell, he was supposed to be in jail. Both of you knew that very well. Every day that he was out may be his last day before the cops found him again. You couldn't just cling onto a fading memory like that. Never knowing when your kiss may be the last, never knowing how long he was going to be in your life. That was way too much stress, even if some part of you did still love him.
You'd tried loving others. Hell, you'd married one of them. Had a kid. But it wasn't the same. Nothing ever came close to what you and Johnny had all those years ago. And when the marriage fell through, he conveniently showed up a few months later. A possibility you never could've even dreamed of being real. And you dreamed about him quite often.
With a quiet sigh, you pushed him off of you and tried to step out of the way, but he grabbed the middle of your shirt and tugged you backwards, pushing you against the brick wall of the alley the two of you were in. He was tipsy, but he wasn't drunk enough to accidentally be rough. He was doing it on purpose. "Johnny, I'm not doing this."
"Just fuckin' explain it to me again. Tell me why," he demanded, looming over you, his tone nothing short of menacing.
"I have a family."
"No, you have a kid. What he doesn't know won't hurt him."
"I have a life- I can't go housing a fugitive," you argued.
"I got my own place. You ain't gotta house shit."
"I hardly even know you, it's been forever," you pushed.
"So? We'll get to know each other again."
"You're dangerous, Johnny!" You snapped, heart picking up it's pace as you shook your head at him. His expression fell, his head retracting a few inches. "You killed people. Broke out of prison. You-" You huffed, finding your voice shaky despite trying your best to remain calm. "You're bad news," you whispered.
There was silence on Johnny's end, his chest rising and falling with a sort of determination as if his anger was slowly bubbling up. "What the hell did you just say to me?"
"Please, just... let me go. I shouldn't have encouraged this, I'm sorry, Johnny. I think it's best if we part-"
"No. What the fuck did you just say to me?" He snarled, and you flinched, your breath caught in your throat. His grip on your shirt tightened, and he pushed his fist harsher into your chest, his breaths coming out in rough bouts. "You didn't give a shit about any of that twelve years ago. That husband of yours fuck you that good, huh? Think you're too good for someone like me now? Think you're gonna be a good little suburban wife who can't be caught with a criminal like me?"
"I didn't say any of that. And, god, no- He's an ex, for one, and-"
"Listen, little miss picket fence, I don't give a shit about your new life. Whether yer believin' you changed, whether you think I'm nothin' more than a fugitive, it-" Johnny huffed, looking down, some unfamiliar emotion crossing over his eyes. "It don't change what we had. You wanna go denyin' that?"
"Johnny, that was twelve years ago. You-"
"It don't matter. None of it fuckin' matters. Ain't you able to see that? You wouldn't have given me the time of day if you didn't miss me."
"Of course I missed you. But you're insane if you think that just... randomly showing up as a goddamn jailbird escapee is going to suddenly have me back on my knees, you need to have a reality check. Please understand," you begged, scoffing at his inability to see clearly.
"That's all I am to you now, huh?"
"What?"
"You were the only thing I thought about in those walls. The only thing encouragin' me to break out. The only thing keepin' me fightin' back against the rat bastards who went around pickin' fights. You think you're just gonna say no?" He scoffed, looking back up as he searched your eyes for something. What exactly, you weren't sure. "Ain't you scared, pumpkin? You think yer safe from me?"
You frowned, lifting a hand and slapping him square across the face, staring him dead in the eyes. His head turned at the impact, and he stared down the alley for a few moments. "I know I am. Get the fuck off of me, Sawyer."
"The hell'd you just call me?" Johnny finally returned his sights to you, and he released your shirt just to slide his hand up to your throat, tightening his fingers around it and forcing your head back.
"Get. Off," you repeated, stern despite how incredibly intimidated you were. He could very well snap your neck like it was nothing, and he had no reason not to; he was already on the run, it wasn't like crimes were something he was scared of. Especially not murder.
"You think you can just talk to me however the hell you want? You think I won't kill you?" He growled, and you grabbed at his arm as he squeezed even more, causing genuine difficulty breathing. As you strained for an inhale, he leaned down, his mouth right next to your ear, his every huff making you flinch. "I was made for you. You're s'posed to be mine. Ain't that what you said? Promised me you'd be mine forever. I'm just comin' to claim my property."
"I'm not- an object, Johnny," you choked, but he hardly seemed convinced. "I said that because I was young, and dumb. And I was in love," you strained, squeezing at his arm. "I don't love you anymore, Johnny."
He stared for a moment, and then surprisingly, released you. You coughed, rubbing your throat where he'd grabbed you, breathing heavily. You never realized you could take breathing for granted, but you certainly had.
"You left. You killed. And clearly, you haven't changed," you muttered, taking in a deep breath as you panted. "I thought you didn't belong in prison. But I read about what you did. I... I guess I thought you'd changed. Thought you'd learned your lesson. But you're still as aggressive as ever."
"Sweetpea, I-"
"Don't. You just tried to kill me. Don't- Just... I'm going to go. I don't want to see you again. Especially not around my kid," you demanded, and his mouth hung slightly open, some apologetic rage behind his eyes.
But he didn't say anything else. Just... let you walk away.
Truth be told, he would've killed you. You knew that. He had the means to, had the reasons to.
Why he didn't, you had no clue.
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nancy-reads · 4 months
Text
am I the one you think about?
part 2!!
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pairing: fred weasley x reader
summary: having your heart broken before love really blossomed hurts more than it should. but fred's flirty banter never quits. maybe your love story isn't quite over?
warnings: slightly angsty but with a happy ending
authors note: i am so sorry for how long this took! school got crazy and college applications are a nightmare. however, i hope you all had a good holiday season and enjoy this late christmas gift!
part one
CROSS-POSTED TO AO3
You refused to cry as you stomped back to your shop. Fred could do whatever he wanted. It wasn’t like the two of you were together or anything. He just flirted with you like crazy and you developed a massive crush on him. 
And of course, the girl Fred was kissing was gorgeous. You couldn’t get her face out of your mind. Clear, gorgeous dark skin and eyes, black hair in a braided ponytail that looked effortless, and a tall figure that looked like she was meant to be a model for Quidditch robes. 
You didn’t know how you even thought you could pull someone like him. Fred was gorgeous and strong and funny, and you were just…well, you. Not anything special. 
You swore as you stepped into a massive puddle near your shop. Tears were beginning to prick your eyes, but you blinked them away. You would not cry over a man you knew not even twenty-four hours. 
And it would be better if it didn’t work out, you thought. You were going to be very busy with your shop once it opened, and you wouldn’t have time for any sort of relationship. It would be an absolute logistical nightmare, and you had to focus on your business. 
You nodded to yourself as you stepped inside your shop, decorated with candles, fairy lights, and plants. This was where you belonged. This was the important thing, not some stupid boy you met once. 
*
MAGICAL HERBS AND HEALING GRAND OPENING!!!
You smiled to yourself as you lowered your wand and took in the exterior of your shop. Everything looked perfect. The plants were in place, the widow displays were shining, and best of all, the banner hung front and center, inviting anyone and everyone to come in. 
People were beginning to trickle into Diagon Alley for some early morning shopping, so you rushed inside your shop and flicked the sign from open to closed. You bounced on your heels as you did some final checks to make sure that everything was in place.
You had already checked about seven times, but there wasn’t any harm in one more, was there? 
Soon enough, you didn’t have time to check anything, too busy ringing up the barrage of customers who entered your store. The line was spread throughout the shop, and you couldn’t stop smiling as your products and potions flew off the shelves. 
Your dreams were coming true. Everything was running smoothly, the customers were marveling at the aesthetics of your shop, and you’d gotten many promises to come back.
But the day couldn’t stay perfect forever, and your eyes widened as a familiar face entered the shop. You couldn’t help but notice Fred’s handsome face and body, but you cursed yourself. You would not be thirsting for a taken man.
Attempting to look as busy as possible, you straightened the boxes behind you and fussed with the register. You could feel his stare on your back, and it took every ounce of your will not to turn.
He is a taken man. He has a girlfriend. 
And he is still staring at you.
After a generous amount of time, Fred cleared his throat. You sighed, closing your eyes for a moment, and finally began to turn around. As slowly as humanly possible. 
“That excited to see me, huh?”
You ignored him.
“And what are you looking for today sir?”
His eyes widened. “Sir? You haven’t forgotten my name already, have you?”
Taken man. Taken man. Taken man.
This was going to be an exercise in self-control.
“Just-” you paused. “Come on, Fred-”
“I knew you remembered-”
“This isn’t a great time-”
“Well then tell me when is,” Fred said. “I’d be glad to arrange a date.”
Why did he have to say these things?
“Are you really going to make me do this now?” you asked, anger coloring your tone. “It's opening day, and I’d really rather you not ruin it.”
“Ruin it?” he asked, dumbfounded. “What do you mean?”
“You know what? Fine,” you snapped. “Come here after closing. We can talk then. I have customers to help, and I’m sure you do too.”
Fred’s eyebrows were scrunched together, and his mouth pulled into a frown. “I-” he paused when he looked at your face, and a defeated expression appeared on his face. “Okay.”
You stared at him as he left, and a part of you wondered if you’d hallucinated the whole thing. He seemed so earnest, like he actually wanted to talk to you. Like you were important, not some other girl he wanted to have on the side. 
But you couldn’t think like that. He probably had some other ulterior motive.
You turned to the next customer in line. “Hi, how can I help you today?”
*
You had to give him credit, Fred was at your shop door at six pm sharp. You tried to ignore him for a while, but he eventually caught your eye as you wiped down the counters.
He gave you a big smile as you opened the door, and part of you wanted to melt. His smile was so bright and full of ardent hope. His freckles made him look younger, and it really added to the sweetness of his face. 
“So,” Fred began after a moment. “Why didn’t you come see the shop? It’s been weeks.”
You sighed. “Look, Fred. I just don’t think us talking like this is appropriate.”
He scrunched his brows. “Appropriate? Why not?” his eyes widened. “I haven’t been impolite, have I? I swear I’ve never meant to say anything weird, I just like to have a laugh-”
“No! Nothing like that,” you said. “I’m not interested in the kind of relationship you want.” There you said it. You would not be someone’s side piece or a good fuck. You wanted something real.
You should have known he was too good to be true as soon as you hit him with those boxes. 
“Oh,” Fred said, his face falling. “I’m so sorry that I assumed-” he paused, “I mean, yeah, sorry, you’re really busy so…yeah.” He forced a smile and stepped back. “I guess I’ll see you around?”
You nodded. “Yeah. I’ll see you.”
You ignored the disappointment in your chest as the bells rang, signifying Fred had left the shop.
*
The shop was still packed a few days later. You supposed word had spread about your low prices and fast wait times because potions were flying off the shelves. You’d begun to think about hiring someone else to help check people out while you brewed in the back. 
Plus, people seemed to like the idea of a small A&E in the back, and you’d definitely need more help with that. 
You’d just finished restocking some salves when he walked in. His brown eyes sparkled when they met yours, and that easy, earnest smile was back on his face. There was no hesitation or the anxiety you’d seen the other day. He was acting like nothing had happened. 
You hesitatingly smiled when he reached the counter, but your jaw dropped when you noticed the bruise that had formed around his eye. 
“Holy shit, Fred!” without thinking, you reached to touch his black eye. “What happened?”
He scoffed. “This is nothing. We just had a slight malfunction with one of our new products.”
“This doesn’t look very slight.”
“I’m fine. But,” he smirked. “I do appreciate your concern.”
“It’s professional concern,” you muttered as you searched for the anti-bruise cream behind the counter. “You’re not special.”
Fred’s jaw dropped dramatically. “You hurt me, dear lady.”
You snorted. “I think you can take it.”
Fred’s hand brushed yours as you handed him the cream and the anti-swelling potion. Your cheeks flushed, and he gave you a sweet smile as he left the shop. 
You could feel yourself smiling throughout the rest of the day, and you cursed yourself every time.
 He isn’t actually interested. He’s just a flirt. 
*
The next time Fred came in was a week later, and this time he had a cut branching up his arm. Thankfully, it was nearly closing time and most of your customers had trickled out by then. 
“What is this?” you fretted, grabbing his arm. “You hurt yourself again?”
“It was just a small incident with one of the pygmy puffs,” he chuckled. “They don’t like being told what to do.”
“Probably because they’re your orders,” you joked. “They can probably sense the stupidity from a mile away.”
“Hey!” he mock-yelled. “They don’t listen to George either.”
“My point still stands,” you said, tapping the cut with your wand. You held back a shiver as your thumb brushed his strong bicep. Was it just you, or did he have goosebumps?
“You don’t even know George.”
“He’s your brother, so if he’s anything like you, I’d be worried about his intelligence.”
Fred pouted. “They don’t listen to Angelina either, and she’s got a good head on her shoulders, so I think they just don’t listen to anyone.”
You paused your cleaning of his cut for a moment and tried to make your face as neutral as possible. “Who’s Angelina?” Could she be the girl he was kissing?
“Oh she’s George’s girlfriend,” he said, oblivious. You breathed a silent sigh of relief. “I don’t know how they’re still together, honestly she could do so much better, but she likes him, I suppose.”
You hummed, finally letting go of his arm to grab a potion. The cut was just barely a scratch now, but you wanted to make sure it didn’t get infected.
“Make sure you drink this, Fred, tonight and tomorrow morning. It’ll wash out any weird pygmy puff or whatever you call it infection from your body.”
“Yes ma’am!” he saluted and headed for the door. You couldn’t help but watch him make his way back from his shop, a spring in his step and a smile on his gorgeous face.
*
It kept happening. Fred came in with food poisoning, many more bruises, and even boils at one point. They were apparently from his inventions and experiments, but you were starting to get worried. Who gets injured this much?
The last straw was when he walked in with an injured leg. Your A&E hadn’t been opened yet, but you had hired a retired healer to run the counter so you could run in and out on occasion.
You were in the back, mixing a new potion when there was a loud commotion at the entrance. You had a sneaking suspicion of who it was but continued to stir the liquid until Martha poked her head into your office. 
“It’s your boy,” she said. “And I think you’ll want to see this.”
That got you out of your seat immediately. Most of the time Fred’s injuries honestly seemed more like excuses to come see you, for what reason you didn’t know, but Martha’s tone made it seem much more serious.
“What’s wro-” fear shot through you as you saw the pain on Fred’s face, and the fact that he was leaning on….a direct copy of himself?
You weren’t sure whether to be more worried or confused. Had Fred somehow invented a cloning machine? 
As you looked closer, you realized that they weren’t completely alike. The person next to Fred’s face was more rounded, and his nose was slightly bigger. His face was a bit uneven, and there was something off with his ear, but you couldn’t tell from far away. 
Suddenly, it all clicked. 
“You must be George!” you exclaimed. “Fred, you never told me that you had an identical twin!”
“Pleased to finally meet you,” George said, turning to Fred. “I can’t believe you never mentioned we were twins!” He glanced at you, mischief in his eyes. “It’s like you don’t care about me or something.”
“Shut up, George,” Fred said, turning your attention back to him. “I’m sorry to bother you again, darling-” your heart jumped, “-but I’m in quite a bit of pain and I was wondering if you could fix me up again?”
He is just a flirt. He is just a flirt. He is just a flirt. 
“Yes, of course,” you scooped Fred’s other arm over your neck and helped George carry him into the patient room. “Martha! Can you hold down the fort for a bit?”
You didn’t wait to hear her affirmative before slowly and carefully lowering Fred down onto the patient bed. His face was contorted in pain, and you couldn’t help yourself from squeezing his shoulder in support once he was safely in bed. 
“Drink this,” you said as you passed him a cup full of silver liquid. “It’ll make the pain go away for a bit.” Fred gulped it down, and a goofy smile filled his face when he finished. 
“You’re so pretty,” he said lazily.
You could feel heat creeping up your face, but you ignored him.
“Sleep well.”
You cleared your throat and turned to George. 
“Judging from the dirt and the Quidditch robes, I assume he fell off his broom?”
George nodded. “Yeah. He got distracted and a Bludger came flying toward him and…” he made a violent gesture, “Crash!”
You nodded. “Did he fall unconscious at any point, or hit his head?”
“He was a bit confused at first,” George said, hesitating. “He kept asking to come here though. My girlfriend kept trying to convince him to go to St. Mungos, but he wasn’t having it.” George smiled. “Are you two together? Because he kept asking specifically for you.”
Call the fire department, because your face was scorching. “I-” you stammered. “I thought he had a girlfriend or something?”
George snorted. “Fred? A girlfriend? He hasn’t dated anyone in a long time. I was honestly starting to wonder if he was gay and just afraid to tell me or something.”
“Really?” Your mind was spinning. Had you actually just hallucinated seeing Fred kiss someone outside of Weasley’s Wizard Wheezes? “I thought saw him kiss a girl outside your shop a few months ago.” You sighed for a moment. “They looked really happy, so I didn’t want to intervene or anything.”
“That would be news to me,” he paused for a moment, lost in thought. “Wait, what did she look like?”
There was an insistent knock on the door. 
“Sorry, we’re busy right now!” you called. “Ask the counter if you need anything.”
The door burst open, and your jaw dropped when the women came crashing in. She was much less put together than the last time you’d seen her, her hair flying everywhere and her cheeks flushed. But she had the same dark skin and hair, and the same commanding appearance that made you see why Fred liked her. 
“I’m sorry,” you said politely. “But I’m currently busy with a patient. Please wait outside or go to St. Mungos if you-”
“She's fine,” George interrupted. “This is Angelina, my girlfriend.”
Suddenly, it all clicked into place. It wasn’t Fred you’d seen kissing a girl, it was George. Who was kissing his girlfriend. Like a normal person. 
You were completely and utterly stupid. 
“Angelina, this is that girl that Fred won’t shut up about.”
“Oh excellent!” She strolled over to you and stared at you seriously. “Please go out with him. Just to put him out of his misery. All I hear about anymore is him whining that some beautiful girl from the shops won’t date him and I need it to stop,” Her eyes were wide and solemn. “Please.”
George snorted. “Way to expose Freddie there.”
Angelina grinned back at him. “I think he needs it.”
“Well,” you clasped your hands, ignoring the redness in your cheeks. “I’m just going to do a quick skull exam just in case he hit his head, and then I’ll set his leg and let him rest.”
You couldn’t believe you’d messed it up this bad. Of course, you’d just seen Fred’s identical twin kissing his girlfriend. How hadn’t you thought of it before?
You quickly began your work, murmuring spells to yourself as you ensured everything was fine. You winced at the loud crack that sounded when Fred’s leg was set, but a final “Episkey,” finally healed the break.
You turned to face George and Angelina, who were watching with rapt attention. “Fred needs to sleep for an hour or two, just to make sure he doesn’t feel all the pain right away. I’d prefer to keep him here, just to make sure he stays asleep and pain-free, and I’ll also be able to check him over again once he wakes,” you said. “But I’ll do whatever you guys want.”
Angelina elbowed George before he could speak. “I think Fred will be perfectly content with staying here for a few hours.”
“Yup,” George said. “He’ll be fine.”
*
You’d been running in to check on Fred for what probably was close to every 5 minutes for the past hour and a half. Martha had given you multiple suspicious nods and knowing looks every time you stepped out of the back room, and she winked at you as she left at the end of her shift.
The store was closed and empty after another long and busy day, and the urge to go check on Fred was already pulling at you. 
Just in case.
It seemed your intuition had been correct, as he began to stir the moment you opened the door. His nose twitched adorably, and there was a small smile on his face as his eyes opened, the sleep still present in his stare.
Without thinking, you stroked his hair, but Fred didn’t seem to mind. He actually leaned into your touch, the smile on his face growing. It was all so domestic, and you couldn’t stop your own smile from spreading across your face. 
“Your smile is so pretty,” Fred mumbled. “You should do that more.”
Warmth filled your face. “I like yours too,” you sat on the edge of his bed. “Does anything still hurt?”
“Not when I’m looking at someone as beautiful as you.”
“You are shameless!” you giggled, smacking him on the side.
“Are you slapping a patient?” Fred teased. “I’m gonna have to report you to the Ministry.”
“You’re making me wonder if you have brain damage that I missed somewhere.” You said as you helped Fred sit up on the side of the bed. “Let me check again.”
Fred, much to your surprise, passed all of his exams with flying colors.
“First time that’s happened,” he joked. 
“I guess that means you’re sane enough for me to do this.”
You leaned in and brought your lips against his. Fred gasped into your mouth and responded eagerly, his hand rising to cup your face and bring you closer. His mouth was soft and gentle, and you almost wanted to cry with how sweet he was. One of your arms wrapped around his neck, while your other hand grabbed his bicep.
Fred leaned back for a moment, chuckling. “I guess you’re finally free to touch my arms now.”
“What do you mean?” 
“Don’t pretend that you haven’t been thirsting over my arms the entire time we’ve known each other.”
“I have no idea what you’re talking about.”
He laughed again as he leaned back in, taking control of the kiss this time. He was more passionate now, and you let out a gasp as his tongue brushed against yours. Your heart was beating faster than it ever had before, and you had to break the kiss because you couldn’t stop smiling.
After you leaned back, Fred just stared at you for a moment, a soft smile on his face. Sure, he was already handsome, but that smile made him look ten times better, and even younger than before. His freckles made his smile boyish, and there was childlike joy in his face as he looked at you. 
“What made you change your mind?” Fred asked after a moment, his brows furrowing. “I thought you didn’t want a relationship.”
“So here’s the thing,” you laughed nervously. “I thought you didn’t want a relationship.”
Fred’s eyes widened. “I think you’re the one who needs to get your brain checked, love. Because I think I was being pretty obvious.”
“Hey! You’re supposed to be nice to me now.” You poked his chest. “But remember when I told you I’d come over to see your shop the day after we met?”
“Vividly.”
“Yeah, so I ended up seeing George and Angelina kissing in front of the door to Weasley’s Wizard Wheezes, and since someone,” you stared at him pointedly, “didn’t tell me he had an identical twin, I assumed it was you.”
Fred was silent for a moment. “I have been coming to your shop nonstop for months, and you still thought I had a girlfriend the whole time?”
“Well now it seems stupid-”
He kissed you lightly before you could finish. “You can never make fun of me for being clueless again.”
“Don’t worry, I’m sure you’ll find a way to upstage me.”
Fred wrapped his arm around you and pulled you close. You couldn’t stop the stupid smile that was on your face, and you were sure Fred had a similar one right next to you. He squeezed your shoulder, and you leaned your head against him. Warmth enveloped you, and you’d never been so comfortable before.
“Don’t worry, love,” Fred said. “You’re the only one I think about.”
*
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spacebubblehomebase · 5 months
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ANOTHER "Fanfic Search Help" Request because I'm at the end of my rope and very desperate for some good ol' nostalgic read. Pls help me.
Kaishin pairing.
DCMK fandom.
Angsty and Dark.
Toichi lives sort-of???
Other world mishaps.
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This time the plot is mostly about Kaito Kuroba being sent to another world where the BO didn't ruin his life. I say "mostly" because this is a series of fics in AO3 and some of them focus on Shinichi's P.O.V. too. The biggest (heart) kicker is that in their original world, the BO killed off each of their friends and family one by one until it's just the two of them against the world with nothing but a few small tokens to remember each person they lost by. The two of them were always together, but they were in too much danger to prioritize the idea of being "together". Still, Kaito and Shinichi were each other's lifeline. At their last chance to keep Pandora away from the Crows, Shinichi made a choice that had him be disguised as Kaitou KID while he paralyzes Kaito from following so he, instead, can die in the thief's place. A sequence of mourning and magical mishaps happen after, which led to Kaito being sent to a world where BOTH his parents were still alive, but there's another him in it too. One who still has a crush on Aoko and had no reason to take on the KID mantle from his father. While he gathers his bearings in this new reality where he still has people to care for him, we later learn that another Shinichi exist here too. One that never took the Apotoxin, but is somehow just as miserable as his dead counterpart. Mostly homeschooled, this Shinichi never grew up being viewed as a "great detective" rather more as a "corpse magnet weirdo" who has no friends and got involved in an incident in his childhood that would traumatize anyone (except for one indigo eyed boy he met then who was adamant about his dad rescuing them. Huh... He wonders how that kid's doing now). Bullied and distant from even Ran and Sonoko, he lacks the confidence and self-assurance of our Shinichi who takes pride in the truth. Rather, this one is more afraid and saddened by it and is mocked for his bluntness. That's why this new world's Kaito never heard much of this Shinichi too, because he's not featured in the news for solving cases, but he's been ostracized for it. I just love the idea of how different people could turn out to be with just a change of perspective. This Shinichi is still observant and cares for people's safety, but because of how he was viewed as a negative instead of a positive, in this world, his strengths became a weakness and what attracted our thief Kaito never got to shine. Changing their meeting and this Shinichi's personality instead to meek and lonely. Not as driven and assertive.
Last time I checked, it's not finished, but that's fine. I love the concept too much! My biggest fear is that it's been deleted.
-Bubbly💙
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specialagentlokitty · 11 months
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Patrick Jane x reader - signs
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Hi! I love that this is a safe space and I appreciate the work you’ve done so far! Been reading for a bit now. May I request a Jane (Mentalist) x reader (platonic please) with the reader getting lightheaded? You can make it fun, angsty or whatever feels right. Totally okay if it’s not on your “want to write” list. I’ll follow for more stories either way :) Have a good day! - @their-love 💜
Getting lightheaded was nothing new for you, sometimes it happened while standing up, sometimes while walking around, other times while just sitting.
It was something Patrick had picked up on pretty quickly, he noticed the way you would sway or stumble about sometimes, and he decided he was going to ask you about it.
“Why do you stumble when you stand?” He asked.
Looking up from your worked, you felt the familiar rush of being lightheaded it you and you blinked a few times before smiling at him.
“It’s nothing serious.”
“It just happened again didn’t it?”
You grinned a little bit.
“Yeah, I get lightheaded a lot.”
“Medical condition? Anemia?”
“Nope, there’s not reason for it really they did all the tests. Sometimes my brain just decided it’s not having any of it.”
Patrick smiled and nodded his head a little bit.
“So when you stumble or nearly fall over it’s cause you’ve gone light headed?”
“Yup! Exactly!”
He nodded and made a mental note of that, so when a few days later you were standing at a crime scene with him listening to Lisbon talked he watched you.
You were stood perfectly fine one minute then the next you stumbled back a few times and he planted his hand on your shoulders.
“If you’re going to fall at least give a man a warning (Y/N).” He chuckled.
“Sorry, sorry.” You laughed.
You stood up properly and looked at him.
“So what’s it like?”
“It’s kinda like you just space out, and the world is flipped on its side I guess, something like that. It’s really weird.”
Patrick nodded his head.
Whenever you got lightheaded he always caught you and supported you until you were able to stand on your way.
It was instinct for him now to just catch you, he didn’t have to think about it, he just did it.
It’s why you were such good friends, because you knew he would always have your back and he would always catch you if you needed him too.
You two were walking down the stairs at the precinct and you just seemed to stop.
“Oh Jesus Christ!”
Patrick lunged forward and he stood in front of you, letting you fall into his back and he caught you, nearly falling himself.
“We really need some sort of warning sign.” He said.
You laughed a little, patting his shoulder.
“I mean you could’ve just let me fall down the stairs. I’d get time of work and that’s always great.”
“Uh huh, then I’ll have to explain everything to Lisbon and I’m not taking the fall for you.”
“You nearly did.”
He chuckled a little and shook his head at you.
“You ready?”
“Uh huh.”
He nodded and he helped you walked the rest of the way down the stairs.
“Seriously, do you not get any warning signs or anything?”
“Oh no I do. I can feel it.”
Patrick snapped his head to you.
“And you didn’t think to tell me because…?”
You shrugged a little.
“You have a sixth sense for this now it’s fine.”
“It’s not fine oh my god!”
You grinned at him and ran away and Patrick chased after you demanding you tell him exactly what the warning signs were that you were going to get light headed so he knew
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