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bittersweetimaginings · 2 years

Note

I know he’s far from sweet, may I request though some fluff with Alex DeLarge? Pronouns for she/her and I don’t mind dark content mentions ^^

In the aftermath • Alex DeLarge

⚠️Content warning: Mentions of s3x (consensual), violent actions/behavior, thr3ats, gang activity, manipulative behavior, ghastlighting, verbal, psychological and emotional abus3, hoovering, over all the depiction of a very t0xic and codependent relationship. (I'm sorry, but this is just angst with a few ""cute"" moments sprinkled here and there, tho I might do something more "light" in the future for Alex)

*These characters do not belong to me, all rights to their respective owners, this is just a piece of entertainment by and for fans.

Summary: You finally get fed up of your boyfriend treating you like shit, so you gather up the courage to end the relationship; too bad he knows his way to your home and heart.

Reader’s pronouns: She/Her

Keys: Y/N = Your Name. Nadsat glossary.

Recommendation: I based this piece on the song “Hoax” by Taylor Swift, “Embers (Alt Version 2014)” by Max Richter & Elfa Rún Kristinsdóttir & Chui-Yee Trey Lee, “Beth’s theme” and “Broken” by Ólafur Arnalds so I highly recommend listening to them as you read :)

Author's note: If you want to send your own request, please check the Disclaimer & Rules post and the MASTERLIST post to see more content and which characters are available.

I try my best to not let characters be OOC and I think the only way to have a "fluff" moment with Alex is him using this as a manipulation tactic...so yeah, he's an asshole.

Also I believe in the movie Alex is 18/19 and by the end of it 22 or something idk, so I implemented this on the story (and will keep doing so in future requests), so to keep you from any confusion that might arise: Alex and reader are currently 18 in the story, with reader developing a crush on Alex at 14 until they met and started dating at 15-16, a bit before Alex started his criminal endeavors with his droogs; this is a very long piece, sorry if it differs much from what you were expecting (the “fluff” part is almost at the end), I got carried away ._.

I'm not here to judge why you are consuming this type of content (I'm the one doing the writing after all) I know from personal experience that this type of content (as weird as it sounds to some of you) might be used as a coping mechanism to a similar situation some of us might've experience or are currently experiencing irl; but just in case, I want to encourage you to reach for help, so please, if you're going through a tough time or experiencing some kind of violence, here are some resources that I was able to find and might be of help, please stay safe everyone:

List of countries and their helplines for d0m3stic abus3, s3xual as5ault and other resources.

List of other resources for immediate help.

List of countries and their respective helplines for su1cid3 prevention/crisis.

It's been almost 2 whole months.

It's been almost 2 months since you last saw him.

They say time heals all wounds but in your case you have only grown more anxious as time keeps passing and you haven't seen him.

"Maybe it’s part of the breakup process." you try to find some peace in that idea, but it's quite difficult once you take into account that this is the longest breakup period you had endured without him, normally it will only last a few days, maybe a couple of weeks at most and the two of you would be back together as if nothing ever happened until the cycle repeats itself once again.

"you're fine, it's better this way." You repeat out loud in order to convince yourself.

Two months ago you broke up with Alex, your boyfriend of almost 3 years but you had been in love with him for quite some time before that; Alex had been one of the boys you went to school with and since the very first time you saw him you felt a connection, so passionate and vibrant it was almost frightening; but since Alex had always been quite the charmer, he was surrounded by people (especially girls) all the time, so your shyness and immense fear of embarrassing yourself prevented you from approaching him in any way and for a time you were fine with just loving him quietly thinking that in time you'll grow out of your little crush; but it wasn't until your friend Pete (He was mostly friend of your brother, nonetheless you still hung out with him and got along) started to hang out with Alex that the two of you finally met.

You and your brother had been hanging out in Pete's house as usual, talking nonsense while playing a friendly game of poker when suddenly his new friends stopped by and that was the first time Alex saw you, it was hard not to, you were the only woman in the room and he promptly teased Peter by asking him if you were his girlfriend which he quickly denied.

“‘Course not, she’s too pretty for you, ain’t that right, my lovely?”

As a not so subtle blush crept into your cheeks you could only reply to the unexpected compliment with a sheepish smile, fearing you might say something ridiculous if you were to utter a single word.

That night you didn’t say much if anything at all, only uttering your goodbye’s once you decided to leave, not being able to bear Alex gaze sizing you up “discretely” from time to time without growing redder everytime it happened.

The next time you met him was outside the local library after a long afternoon dedicated to your studies, you had lost the track of time and now the sun was almost setting, nervous and quite frightened you decided to head back home as fast as you could manage, you knew just how awful the city can get at night, you had seen the news; the ever increasing gang activity in town had everyone cowering back to their homes before sunset in an almost unspoken curfew, you knew that if you didn’t make it back home in a few minutes not only your Mama would worry, but also something horrible might happen to you if you had the bad luck to encounter the wrong people.

“Well, well, well; Greetings Y/N!” the sudden mention of your name making you turn around immediately, only to find dear Alex leaning against one of the light posts in front of you.

“um…hello, Alex” your reply comes in a hushed tone, your shyness momentarily taken away By the surprising fact that he knows your name which you never told him but you guess Pete must have done so.

“Say, no pretty ptitsa* like you should be out at this hour, your poor em* must be worried.”

He stated as he approached you, not even bothering with hiding the fact that he was once again sizing you up lasciviously with his eyes; now no longer oblivious to the fact that he was flirting with you and high on all of his unexpected but very much wanted attention you decide to make a move even if a small one, you were grateful to have the perfect excuse laid before you, and so you asked:

“I know, I just lost track of time.” you chuckle lightly “Alex, I know it might be troublesome to ask this of you, but would you care to accompany me home?”

Though momentarily surprised by your unexpected brief moment of boldness, Alex does nothing but smile widely to himself before replying a few seconds later:

“It would be my pleasure.”

that night he had indeed escorted you home, but made a brief stop in an alley near your house to fuck you hard in the cold winter air of a january night; not exactly how you had planned to lose your virginity but you were happy nonetheless, specially because he had treated you so sweetly afterwards even making you laugh with him placing a kiss on your hand in a chivalrous but over-the-top farewell gesture before parting ways as he left you safe and sound on your doorstep.

you guessed that would be the end of it, a one night stand and nothing more, and you were fine with that, at the very least you had experienced being embraced fully by the very person you had had a crush on for a long time.

And for a while it was true, remaining as almost perfect strangers, the only thing changing between the two of you being the small acknowledgements you’ll give each other in the forms of brief smiles, small hand waves or a slight tipping of the bowler hat he had begun wearing recently, as he saw you passing by.

But then there was a night as cold as the other, you were sitting by the vanity near the large window in your room, getting ready for bed; until you heard the sound of something hitting the window, harsh enough to spook you but lightly enough to see that breaking it was not the intent. As you approached the window your face now reflecting disbelief at the person standing at the bottom of it: Alex.

“Well hello, Darling” he seemed a bit…off, jumpy, perhaps even restless.

“Alex? what are you doing here?”

“Oh, you know, just passing by, it occured to me that might as well pay you a visit, long time no see and all that.” you know it’s a lie as he is looking over his shoulder as he says this, and that's when you heard it: faint due to distance but very much recognizable…police sirens.

Alex looks at you dead serious, gauging your reaction in search of any sign you had put two and two together and whether or not you would help him, you look at him with the same intensity and without a word you retreat back into your bedroom; Alex almost curses you out right then and there, but his face is met with a large white cloth emanating from your bedroom window.

“I'll hold it, but you better hurry.” Your words pleased Alex greatly and in no time he was climbing up the make-shift rope, a big smile plastered all over his face; as he is climbing the last bit of the cloth, you hear the sirens approach dangerously so without wasting a single second you pull Alex in with all the strength you can muster, which is not much as he ends up falling and hitting the left side of his body against your bedroom floor, but once he’s inside you let the cloth fall (deciding that you’ll recover it later), shut the windows, the blinds and turn off the lights. What follows are a few tense seconds that felt like minutes as you hear the police siren right in front of your house and the blue and red light reflecting on your bedroom as they pass by it and only when they drive away, Alex's infectious laugh is what breaks the silence, but as you hear footsteps approaching your bedroom you cover his mouth quickly.

“Y/N? Dear, what was all that noise? Are you alright?” The voice of your father outside your bedroom door makes you panic, you look at Alex as you try to come up with an excuse but even with your hand over his mouth you can see he’s smiling, his mischievous blue eyes trained on you awaiting your next move.

“Umm…yes, Dad, don’t worry I just dropped some things”

“You sure? Do you need help with anything?” your father questions and you can hear the door knob turning.

“No dad, please don’t enter, I'm changing.” you yell hurriedly, and that’s all you need to drive your father away as he mutters an apologetic “ok” and you finally hear him walk back to his bedroom, is only then when you feel you can finally breathe and as you remove your hand from Alex’s face, he bursts out laughing once again though this time, as quietly as he can manage.

“Is not funny, we almost got caught!” you scold him lightly.

“Apologies my dear, but you should have seen your face.” he manages to muster in between laughs. Part of you is curious and eager to ask why he was running from the police while wearing such strange clothing? but the questions get caught up in your throat as you become aware of Alex’s injuries.

“God, are you alright?” you mutter as you inspect his face carefully to which he immediately goes silent analyzing your face as an unreadable expression falls on his own. Moments later you have Alex sitting on your bathroom toilet as you stand before him cleaning and tending to his injuries as best as you can;his face still lays frozen in that same serious yet mysterious expression as he looks at you.

Truth be told he was trying his best to comprehend the situation, your unwavering gentle and soft demeanor paired with your eagerness to help him had taken him by surprise to say the least; most girls he had one night stands with had never treated him like you had in the aftermath, in fact; that night you weren’t the first girl who’s window he had come knocking, but you were the first one to have helped him, even if that could’ve put you in a dangerous or troublesome position; you even went as far as to care for his injuries, minor as they were, so attentively.

And the first thought that popped into his mind is how adorable he finds what he perceives as foolishness on your part, a thought that allows for a small smile to break his serious façade of which you take notice and smile back at him almost instinctively.

“What?” you questioned with a glint of nervousness on your voice, Alex shakes his head slightly before closing the small space in between you with a soft kiss that caught you by surprise but you returned his affection shortly after by allowing him to fuck you once again, though this time was quite different, not only because you where no longer in an alleyway in the cool night air, but because this time it felt more real somehow as his touch was no longer hurried nor rough but soft and gentle; he spent the whole night beside you, you even remember him caressing your cheek as your head laid there near his chest.

And after that night everything changed, he wasn't just greeting you from afar, oh no; this time around he make sure everybody knew of your “relationship”, greeting you warmly by holding you in his arms every time he had the chance, introducing you as his girlfriend to everyone even his parents, showering you with gifts, compliments and fun escapades that made nothing but accelerate your heart.

You genuinely thought of him as being “the one” and how could you not? Oh how unbelievably sweet Alex was when he was trying to conquer you.

You were so deeply blinded by his so-called love that today it’s impossible for you to know exactly when things began to change. Did it began with all those “jokes” or comments he made about you in front of his droogs? You hated those because they made you uncomfortable, especially the ones that made fun of your body. Perhaps it was right after that time where you decided to hang out with your friends instead of him? The next time you saw him he acted as if you didn’t even exist and stopped talking to you for days until you apologized. Was it after your first fight? He yelled at you so horribly you almost thought it was a nightmare and not reality, but he apologized right after so it was alright, right? or Was it that time he belittled you so badly he made you cry in front of his friends? you’ll never forget the look they gave you, almost as if they pitied you, you felt so ashamed and demoralized you felt your eyes would start bleeding as your tears kept falling nonstop, or maybe it was after you found out about him being a gang leader? about the things he did? he started off by revealing just the small things: robbery or vandalism, always ready with a very good excuse up his sleeve (that or you were just desperate to believe him, believe he wasn’t…all that bad) but as time passed by he didn’t even bother to make any excuses nor did you bother to ask what he had done in his outings; you had learned that doing so would only end badly as the last time you did so he had made you tag along and forced you into beating a poor man who’s only mistake was being at the wrong place at the wrong time, his screams and pleads for help still haunt your nightmares, but at the time you were just too afraid of the look Alex gave you, he didn’t even need to threaten you with anything, you knew hell would be released upon you if you didn’t follow his orders.

How you had been able to put up with everything for so long? that’s a question that keeps you up at night; perhaps it was because he knew when to take two steps back with you and treat you just as kindly as he had done in the beginning, it was those moments of fleeting but intoxicating tenderness that kept you by his side, even when you found out he had even cheated on you multiple occasions.

You had broken up with him more than once, but the only thing he needed was to say sorry, get a bit emotional, perhaps even give you some flowers and you’ll be back easily. And in your now torn apart mind, you loved that; the aftermath of the breakup had now become the only moment in the relationship where you were truly happy as sad as that might be.

And now here you are, panicking because two whole months have passed and he hasn’t come to see you.

Yes, it’s true that for the past month and a half you took to visit your sick aunt who lives in another city entirely; not because you cared about her fragile state, at least not entirely (you were hardly familiarized with her, having only seeing her 5 times in your whole life) but because then again, your torn mind found a worryingly amount of pleasure in the thought of Alex finding out about you leaving and then…what he’ll do then when he couldn’t reach you to ask you to take him back? oh, the fantasies your mind infected with both feelings of adoration, sadness and a desire for a bit of vengefulness create; every night as you laid on the sofa near your aunt’s bed you wonder…How did his face look at the moment he found out about your departure? had he brought you your favorite flowers, climbed all the way to your bedroom window only to find nothing? had he threatened your poor brother for information on your whereabouts? and when he denied him such information (as you had instructed him to) would he have grown desperate? paranoid? mad with the idea that perhaps you had found someone else? or maybe, just maybe he finds your location and comes looking for you? you relish on the idea, knowing deep down it’s just not going to happen, it would be too much of an effort and too much of a hit to his ego doing so, but one can dream, right?

But as you arrived back in town you were met with nothing but disappointment; according to your brother, Alex didn't even come to your house much less spoke to him nor your parents, neither he came looking for you the days after; to say that was a low blow to your own ego would be an understatement, and as you sit there, in your pajamas, body almost completely submerged between the sheets and shaking as you allow yourself to snivel, all the while your intrusive thoughts swallow you whole: What did you expect? for him to actually be waiting for you? for him to come running the second you came back? for him to say how much he missed you, how he can’t live without you, how he knows he hurt you once again by cheating on you…again, how he hates seeing you sad and from now on things would really be different this time around? for him to love you? What is there to love? he was right, you were always too dramatic, too sensitive, too weak; he must’ve finally grown tired of you and left to find someone better.

You don’t know when you fell asleep, time hasn’t been something you’re keenly aware of at the moment; it takes you a few seconds to get past the headache that falls over you like a ton of bricks as you open your eyes, you feel your face stiff, probably because of the tears and then slowly begins to dawn on you: faint as ever, a small knock on your bedroom window. You lay still for a few moments, second guessing if what you’re hearing is true or not, only when it happens again is that you’re sure it’s real and as soon as you do, you hurry past your bedsheets, heading straight for the window.

There he is, looking straight at you with an expression you can't quite pinpoint; he’s not wearing that hellish white attire instead opting for regular clothes, his hands in hiding as he tucks them in the pockets of his pants and gives you a small almost invisible smile. It’s a unspoken agreement between the two of you, once he shows up at your window you help him climb up and into your bedroom just like the very first time; and that’s what you do, almost entirely out of instinct you tie and let the large cloth fall so he can make his way to your heart once more.

You find yourself unable to look him in the eye once he’s right in front of you, tension thick in the air you feel unable to breathe properly as his gaze does nothing but seek yours.

“You left this at my home” he finally declares, voice barely above a whisper and you pick up on his serious tone as he abandons his usual cheerful and taunting manner of speech. He presents you with a necklace and as it dangles lightly in front of your face you recognize it: is the necklace he gave you on your 2nd anniversary, he knew you had taken quite a liking to Basil so he gifted you the necklace with a pendant of a snake resembling Basil.

You reach for the necklace in his hand slowly, but he pulls it away lightly before you’re able to take it, this earns him a confused look on your part but alas you’re finally making direct eye contact which is what he was aiming for. You feel as if his vibrant blue eyes bore into your soul and that’s enough for your heart to start beating so loudly it plays into your own ears and as he moves forward you wonder if he can hear it.

He reaches his hand carefully to your hair, lightly brushing it aside as he allows himself to put the necklace on you once more, once he has finished he once again brushes your hair gently back in place all the while maintaining eye contact.

He gazes at you so softly this time, as if even the tiniest speck of dust could break you and sadly enough you feel like it just might. you feel so exhausted as your eyes and chest still burn with pain after crying for so long.

“Darling” he utters in what comes off as a sigh “you have no idea how much I’ve missed you” his words come slowly as he closes the distance between you little by little.

Somewhere in the back of your mind you snort in laughter at those words as you have lost count of how many times he had spoken them; but all that manages to break through is an incredulous smile on your part as you struggle to maintain eye contact once more. He takes note of your expression and acts on it quickly, lifting your face by your chin ever so softly.

“I know I messed up, that I've hurt you, there’s no denying that.” he admits “That’s why I´ve come here, to make things right, to apologize.”

You shake your head slightly, as if in denial and wanting to get rid of all those intrusive thoughts that slowly creep up into your mind as he speaks.

“Love, I am so sorry for what I did to you, to us.” Oh no, here he goes. “I know there’s nothing I can do to change what I did nor can I force you to stay with me after all you’ve been through.” He emphasizes his words as he drips emotion into them, almost as if he is at the verge of sobbing.

“You are the only one who has ever understood and cared for me, no one else has loved me the way you do.” silent tears begin to dance dangerously in the corners of your eyes.

“I didn’t realize just how wonderful I had it with you, you’re probably the only thing I have ever felt this strongly for.” Your eyes betray you and the tears you’ve been holding begin to slip, he catches on quickly and so he places a hand near your cheek and begins to wipe your tears ever so sweetly with his thumb.

“Y/N If your wish is for me to leave you alone, I promise I will do so, even if my heart can’t bear it…but if you allow me, just this once; I swear to you…dearest, I’ll make things better.” The determination in his words paired with that sickly sweet emotional delivery do nothing but disarm you for the final blow.

As he leans forward once more, gently places your head in between his hands and joins your forehead against his while still caressing your cheeks with his thumbs he whispers:

“I love you Y/N.”

And that’s all he needs to break you, you fall apart in his arms as quickly as those words leave his mouth, you’re a bawling mess and somehow you still have tears left to shed.

But you’re not crying because you believe for even a second that what he just said to you is true and you are so touched by it, no, you’re not that foolish. You know better than anyone that those are nothing but empty words, a perfectly timed and rehearsed monologue that he tells to every other girl under his spell the second he starts to feel like they have begun to slip away.

You’re crying because you’re crying because there is no strength left in you to fight back, you’re crying because his affections and the seek for his approval have become like a drug to you, you’re crying because Alex has consumed all of your life at this point, you don't even remember what life before him was like, You’re crying because at this point you’re utterly and completely alone, you abandoned your friends and fractured your family ties so badly nothing would be the same any more, you are crying because you’ll play along in this twisted game he has trapped you in, at least for now; you’re just not ready to let go, not yet; but as you lay there, in the aftermath, as he holds you tightly, you pray one day you will.

#alex delarge #a clockwork orange #alex delarge x reader #Alex DeLarge #Alex DeLarge x reader #alex x reader

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jonathanlejonhjarta · 2 years

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okay okay, favorite crows, in order, 1 thru 6! (or 7 if you want to include kuwei, and yes theyre all amazing, but if you had to rank them based on personal enjoyment)

you come into my askbox, asking my to choose a favourite child—

but okay, if i have to– edit: THIS IS LITERALLY IMPOSSIBLE. you'll just get an answer where i talk about why i love the crows kfbsjsjs. i can't rank my kids.. (except for matthias, he's my boy always)

1. matthias

MY SCANDINAVIAN BOYFRIEND. MWAH ! yes, the name and the fact he is from fantasy the fantasy nordic countries/scandinavia are two of the reasons why i love him, but ! the development he goes through during the events leading up to the books and during them makes me extremely emotional. the way he manages to break free from a cult and its brainwashing. he learns to see humans where he previously would've seen abominations. he falls in love and allows himself to love wholeheartedly, both romantically and platonically. just a thing like breaking free from the chastity and purity culture he grew up in... i'm so proud of him for finding the courage to reclaim his own body and mind, making them into his , going against everything he's been indoctrinated with. i may be a ninej girl, but nina and matthias' love story means a lot to me personally because of how much i love matthias and because i relate to him in some ways.

i'm still very torn about his ending; it's bitter-sweet and can be interpreted in different ways which i appreciate but listen. at the end of the day i just wanted a happy ending haha ;;

kaz — my disabled icon with his cane! 💕 in my heart he's a short king even though canon say otherwise and he also radiates trans masc/agender energy !! he's my stubborn little bastard!

for someone who suffers from a personality disorder which emerged because of what happened to me in my childhood, i find kaz's story very relatable and you know just. affirming. to see a character who's whole personality and manners taking shape because of something that happened to them a long time ago. at the end of the day, he's just a 17-year-old who wants to feel safe.

also, his relationships to basically every character is so good and interesting, i love reading about kaz interacting with the crows. his journey of actually starting to like and care for his team mates also gets me every single reread ;; 💕

nina — she's iconic, she's bisexual and smart, she's fat and gorgeous and, to quote matthias, has magnificent thighs 🥰 no but really all of the above are actual things why she's my favourite, but she works sooo well with everyone of the crows. her interactions and relationships with the other characters on the team are so good ;; nina & jesper? bisexual icons! nina & matthias? enemies to lovers bickering! nina & inej? girlfriends!! nina & kaz? finally someone who puts kaz in his place without hurting him! theyre just siblings!

i can't remember her relation to wylan and kuwei atm but the thing is that nina is kind and caring. she cares so much that she's ready to let herself be completely changed by the parem. she did that for her friends! instead of giving kuwei back, she put herself through something life-threatening. she stood up to van eck and kept fighting. she keeps fighting even when she's in extreme pain.

wylan — his story breaks my heart but the way he 1) finds self worth among the crows, 2) finds love 3) and finds out the truth about himself and his family? he's so good;; i love me a happy ending. disabled queer representation ♡

jesper — such a sweetheart. once again, a character who has interesting and heartwarming relationships with every single crow, and i love him for that. a little happy ending for me. yeah, jesper and wylan's story is so so cute and empowering; about realising you have value despite what others have told you, and finding the courage to face the things you've been running from for a long time.

kuwei —kuwei's story is one about never being wanted for you, but what you can do and who you are related to, which makes me very sad but is also one of the reasons i relate to him. i wish we got more about him! fuck leigh bardugo for giving us so many good stories!!!

inej — i love her, but i don't relate to her that much, plus i am personally not a fan of inej/kaz. doesn't mean her story and journey aren't good, they very much are but the inej/kaz storyline makes me feel weird. it's a sweet story, about how both of them struggle, but i think it hits a little bit close to home and triggers something in me that makes me go: 😖 but her relationship with nina (ninej 4ever!), jesper (they're siblings!!) and wylan (her brother-in-law!!) are all so good ;; another thing i love about inej is that she's religious ♡ which is something i relate to.

shit, this answer got long,, i know u didn't ask for explanations but hey. i love my kids so much haha .. in my defense, as i began writing this answer i realised i have sooo many thoughts and feelings about these characters, and i literally can't rank them;;; i really tried, for you, but their own arcs are SO good and can be analysed in so many ways so it's impossible ! ;; sorry for a messy answer, this book is just GOOD. the characters are my LOVES

#somanyworda #elliot says #small letters

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wozman23 · 8 months

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Our Tastes In Music Related to Time, Part II: Goo Goo Dolls

Today's albums were 1998's Dizzy Up the Girl and 1995's A Boy Named Goo by Goo Goo Dolls.

I mentioned how much I love "Iris," so they were my prime band to start with. Today, it perhaps ranks amongst one of my favorite songs of all time, particularly for the chorus, the overall cathartic feel of the tune, and the way it flows between time signatures. It's a song that I enjoyed in its time, but didn't really fully appreciate until many years later. When one of my favorite (and underappreciated) vocalists of all time, Jeff Gutt, reappeared on X Factor around a decade ago, he finally found some success. On one of his final shows, he got to sing "Iris" with John Rzeznik, and that's when it really hit me. It's one of only a few songs that will make me tear up nearly every time I hear it. I could write a whole post about its beauty, and the psychology about why I identify with it and how I interpret it. (There are various interpretations, the most common mirroring the plot of the movie it was written for, about an angel who gives up his immortality to be with the love of his life, and in doing so, becomes vulnerable to both the joyous and undesirable qualities of being human, like love and joy versus pain and loss. But I also think the great thing about music is how fluid the definition of a song can be based on people's own experiences. I don't seek out romantic relationships very often. And even if I'm interested in someone, I may not even approach them unless I feel compelled to by a detail about them that I find out. But when I do find someone I like, I'm all in. I know I'm an enigmatic, stoic, weirdo, so I just “want that person to know who I am.” I'm really honest, and never shy away from being vulnerable, and try to paint the perfect picture of who I am – a person who I'm very proud of these days. Sadly, and painfully, things haven't worked out, but I'm always peering through my spyglass, observing my world to find my next “Iris.” But enough about why “Iris” is so damn good.) With Dizzy Up the Girl, I knew the big hits well: “Iris,” “Slide,” and “Broadway,” but found some other great songs as well. There are a few slow spots, but overall it's pretty good. I feel like Rzeznik's voice has dimensions I never knew about, and they're a little more punk influenced then I originally thought. Then I went right into A Boy Named Goo. There I really was only familiar with the big hit, “Name.” But the rest of the album feels even more upbeat and punk-ish. There's even an F bomb at one point. Punk, and grunge, aren't necessarily genres I liked as much, so I'm not sure how I feel about the more punk-ish stuff. But there's still a lot of great, anthemic pop rock there as well, like “Long Way Down,” Flat Top”, “Ain't That Unusual,” and “Eyes Wide Open.” Ultimately, I'm not sure how much I'd crave listening to the deeper cuts of Goo Goo Dolls, and I didn't find a gem like yesterday's 3 Doors Down track that dumbfounded me, but the hits definitely stand up well today. Also for reading this far, I'd like to remind you of one of my favorite stupid jokes. It came from Andy Richter as part of one of Conan's In The Year 2000 bits. I don't remember it verbatim, only the basic punchline, but let's say it went something like this: Baby's everywhere will fill stadiums when Lady Gaga and the Goo Goo Dolls decide to unite, forming the supergroup Gaga Goo Goo.

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archnemesisofthearch · 2 years

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Went to a mental hospital a few years ago and I stumbled across this.

It makes me think of those experiences; all the people and them explaining why they were there. The two different day rooms, one for the suicidal and the other for the suicidal- and violent. I went to one before, but it was for underage children, which is a story of its own.

The girl I can most definitely recall was this girl with beautiful, very dense and integral curls. Her hair was somewhat of a red color if I can remember. She was beautiful too, likely in her early 30’s.

But- holy moly… she was crazy. The first time I saw her, was in the lunchroom. Her head hung low, and the only thing you could tell from her essence was that she looked like she had been more-so caught rather than brought in. Which although, everyone there had not voluntarily gone, her total essence was more unaware and unmovable. She stayed on the violent side.

When she ate, she was really messy, like a kid but as an adult. I never saw such a mess, and I am a really messy eater. It was really sad. Literally 1/3 of her food surrounded her.

Later on everyone found out she was still coming off of heroin. I’m guessing the withdrawal was really severe. She eventually started having a tantrum, as she wanted the replacement dosage for the come off. It lasted through the night from like 12 pm-4am. The staff didn’t bring any type of sedative, so everyone listened to her go crazy. But crazy, crazy. Make you want to cry because you have no control at all, crazy. I thought it was a younger man they brought in, her screams were so demonic.

They later took her to this other area called BRIDGE. I looked on their website to see if they had any info on it, which they didn’t. Anytime I’d ask questions about the place- I never got full answers- except that it isolates anyone severely distraught. I have no idea how long they kept her there. I know there are certain laws that prohibit doctors from keeping patients from unsaid amounts of time but the concept of what she went through was honestly really traumatic. To not know how long you’ll be isolated. To not have a strong connection to the outer world, one you could at least find even in the violent patients. Given, she was probably entertained enough by her withdrawal symptoms, yet the whole essence had a very sedated, helpless, solipsistic tinge to the whole justice of things.

To just go crazy without knowing how to deal with your emotions, and then have to be further isolated in a room with no socialization. Not really understanding time except with 3 meals a day. They probably let her know the time. They probably weren’t as severe; yet how would you know? The staff are mainly just require to check boxes anywho. She could’ve easily just finally reached her dead end; no outer support. A person utilized as an easy loophole for a corrupt system.

to just be stuck there.

I understand she was mentally unwell, as I was, as you can see from my drawings when I was there, and the crumbs I leave when eating, but it’s scary. Basically being a John Doe for the psychiatric. You know there’s some weird shit they can get away with. Some of the staff there seemed to enjoy their job, but not to help people, but rather to see pathetic and vulnerable beings with no choice but to wait until the doctors orders are met.

My psychiatrist basically was assigning bipolar and antipsychotics to everyone like they were gifts from Opra.

YOU GET BIPOLAR- YOU GET BIPOLAR.

yet when I was analyzed, just as everyone, there was no interest in my trauma or my actual essence. There were only observations, based on a pragmatic heavier list the monitoring staff would document. Given, state requirements are there for a reason, yet one that is in a vulnerable state shouldn’t be treated as cattle. It was as if they wanted the experience to be enough of a punishment so that you’d actaully make sure you kill yourself the next time you tried anything like this. I understand there’s a lot of hidden politics with suicide but these people still are moving and breathing and want to have community, just like the staff that would belittle.

The only interest was pointing out symptoms that intertwine and bridge with other disorders and general human nature with the validation of newest version of the DSM. I also noticed other patients would get different types of bipolar medications, even if it was same disorder type. The “group” activities we did never really helped us feel. It was like those really easy reading questions from thirds grade. I understand there’s different language and learning barriers, but even the empathy was at 3rd grade level. It helped the intern who was in charge of the class check off lists, so she could graduate. All the psychiatric and medical interns looked down upon us, which you never would see in a hospital. We were material for their thesis, rather than viewed as beating hearts with the same potential.

The medicine I was on, immediately started giving me auditory hallucinations. Never had I had any effect like that before. When I got out, I would hear banging, like I was in my room, as if there was spatial awareness to my hallucinations. it would sound like it was really close, yet when I would get up it would go away, or oddly fade with each step I took. Going back to the woman I had mentioned, I remember the sheer trauma of the night, and thinking about her well being- thinking about all the current prisoners- how they are stuck for life with no control… it would wake me up from the sheer trauma. Interesting enough, I lived literally one block away from the hospital. I’ve realized I’m quite empathic, so I’m wondering if I was picking up on something.. idk. It could also just be from realizing the amount of uncontrollable yet stagnant pain others feel in the justice or mental health system, even just in our 1st world living status.

But the psychiatrist and her minions were scary in a dishonest, loophole, I see your flesh as material type of way. You could truly sympathize with the movie One Flew Over the Cuckoo’s Nest, at least with the power dynamics. The drug- staff- it all made me feel as if my trauma was bulldozed/ and it felt like the whole situation gaslit me. Never had I felt so submissive before. My tone was so sweet..ew

I later found out the drug they put me on can cause severe gain weight, diabetes, and a lot of toxic and internal and mental conditions that you may have to counteract with other medications, with, ya guessed it.. more symptoms. I remember gaining like 10 pounds in a week. I was constipated the whole time I was in there. 7 days. My loved ones told me I had to stay on my medicine after I got out- good god it was a terrifying spiral. I felt like I was being suggested what to do by a cult, as it was scary for everyone and no one knew what to say. I immediately got off that medication and have further found an alternative called Wellbutrin, as it covers a multitude of disorders- ranging from Anxiety, Bipolar, to ADHD, which all consistently have very similar symptoms to the ones I have most issues with.

I understand the system- they have to run it almost like a hotel. Get this persons adrenaline down enough for him to want to clean his home when he gets out. I get there is not enough money in the 2nd poorest state. Yet why do doctors have the right to diagnose without doing a proper analysis on their living status and trauma? If anything, that time is the absolute best time to ask and help organize a better path. Sometimes a patients honesty can help them get subsidized care and resources, yet it’s hard to actually ask for that from an inpatient and impersonal doctor who otherwise has 20 other patients with the same severity of issues.

From the two times I’ve gone- I’ve always found that they hold you hostage with low level activities that could be further approved through sensual measurements. They restrict your individuality in significant ways when everything is based on quotas- and never well being. I think the pragmatic neutrality am environment like that provides is essential- yet there needs to more personal essence for someone to have their own stability after such a severe incident. Having a constant rotation of mentally ill people is overwhelming, the amount of heinous and degrading qualities can truly be insulting; to have adult tantrums, violence, negligence, self harm. Yet time in this kind of system it should be further organized to help their home and life value, rather than controlled medications. If anything, there should just be one sedative that is consistently used to get you through the week, and then have a different provider use the data to prescribe a proper medication. So many of those patients- such as me are still lethargic from overdosing on 300, 500 mg of Advil PM. If anything, drugs such as lithium only bring more illhelaht, thus leading to increase in medical bills as many in these establishments are on supplemental government care. You literally have all the people that want to degrade bunched together. Usually people that actaully do care, but just don’t know how to find flow. To accept themselves, and to properly follow laws so they can further better prosper and communicate.

Me and my grandma tried getting my brother into some sort of rehab- something state funded as he was internally spirally very similar to that girl I spoke about. But way fucking worse. Unspeakably so. Yet the hospital and mental hospital always rejected him, or only kept him for 24 hours, as he physically never tried to harm himself. He never was drunk when claim he struggled with alcoholism. It never was enough to only be thoughts, and very toxic daily habits he couldn’t get out of.

My brother died from alcoholism and malnourishment in a hoarded unlivable home where he degraded for 2 days, before my severely traumatized mother found him, as she had always been too unwell, since my father shot himself on my birthday in front of her because the medication he took gave him intrusive and suicidal thoughts.

I understand everyone is responsible for how they feel, but you’d think a woman in menopause with 20-30 years in the mental health field would know what fucking emotions are. I hope Ms. Curly is ok. And I hope they give everyone pillows thicker than a half inch one day. Those patients-are not inmates you slug-esque kings and queens that look down upon the sick that feed you. I bet budgets are easy to move around; just saying. Especially with an almost hotel like system that can further utilize the system of disposables to cover up indecency.

It’s a perfect time to help people thrive, yet it was arguably almost as bad as prison. Prison should be restraining to a certain exten and so should one that harms themselves, yet those in a mental hospital should have more exercises to help them realize the present moment. This young, very kind and considerate man I met in there was named Eric. Talked to everyone. Always was down to be part of the buzz. Very complimentary and gracious with any vibe. He died like a month later after falling asleep, drunk behind a grocery store due to hypothermia. He was only in his early 20’s.

Idk, like he could have gotten help from all the staff that are normal people and actually do have real lives and understand the present moment, yet a majority of those hired were excited to know your weaknesses. No interest in your movements with the future. It was definitely understaffed, but you could sense a weird hierarchy of egos rather than actual help. They were allowed to look in random and innocent peoples psychological, dirty laundry without actual feasible help as they left- except schizophrenic visuals and diabetes.

I know many of those staff were only paid $15 to possible walking in on someone stabbing themselves in the throat with a shard of glass they beat out from the overhead light (true story) etc., but there should be more empathic boundaries and considerations, otherwise you only further reminds those who feel victimized to further find more pity- not matter how excited they are to clean their house again.

Y’all’s needs sum mini horses er something

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rafescoke · 3 years

Note

hiiiii!!

Can I please request a rafe x reader based on that song need to know by doja cat.

Basically the reader heard rumors about the rafe’s and he’s past with his ex. Basically all saying how he was a 10/10 on bed. The reader is furious but sad and quickly confronts the rafe. You can choose the ending. Smut or fluff ending!!

Also pls post the rafe x reader, jj fic with the 19 chapters plsssss!!!! I beg you!

Need To Know ; Rafe Cameron

masterlist

#Part 1

Pairing: Rafe Cameron x reader

Summary: The reader confronts Rafe about his past

Warnings: Straight smut, hella angst, substance, swearing, Rafe being a total dick

A/N: this one shot’s too long but i hope you will love it. i poured all my love into this however this isn’t my best work and im sorry!!

p.s, i’m always open for requests <3

“Hey! thanks for coming,” Topper smiled, hugging Rafe’s side before kissing (Y/N)’s cheeks. He ushered them both to the middle of the ongoing party, to the centre where all of Rafe’s friends were hanging out.

(Y/N) is never a fan of parties, especially the ones that she will have to tug on Rafe’s collars for them to finally enjoy the night alone. However, she passed up the chance of watching netflix with her partner tonight to go to Topper’s birthday party, since, it was, well, Topper’s celebration.

If it had not been for Topper, she wouldn’t even bat an eye to this party, especially when she knows the amount of girls silently crushing on her boyfriend of 6 months now. Rafe’s incredibly handsome, with his hair messily parted and his blue eyes shining everytime they’re exposed to the glowing sunlight of Obx. . . (Y/N) couldn’t justify why he would even choose her.

“What are you thinking?” Rafe playfully groaned, pulling his girlfriend’s waist near him. His fingers played with the hem of her dress, giggling when she hissed, swatting his hands away. “Seriously. You’ve been quiet since we got out of the car.”

“I just don’t like the attention’s you’re getting tonight,” she sighed, rolling her eyes when Rafe poked her, an amused expression plastered on his face. “I shouldn’t have told you that. Now you’re this proud prick.”

Rafe laughed, throwing his head back, his hands still around her waist. She waited for him to regain his posture before kissing his cheeks.

“Go and find Topper. I know you want to kiss him.”

“Not as much as I want to kiss you,” Rafe replied, laughing again when (Y/N) stuck her tongue out at him before walking away to go and get some drinks for herself. In truth, Rafe doesn’t understand why she would feel so inferior towards other girls; she’s simply the most beautiful girl he’ve ever laid his eyes on. No one can ever compare to (Y/N), and that’s for sure.

(Y/N) muttered a thanks when someone handed her a beer, standing on her toes to search for her friends. When she couldn’t see any of them, she began making her way towards Rafe and Topper. She decided that instead of waiting alone in the resting area of the club while everybody else is socialising, she would rather listen to whatever Rafe and his friends were conversing, knowing that somehow she’ll find something interesting in the discussion.

That was when she bumped into a figure, causing the person to drop the drink they were holding onto her front dress. (Y/N) groaned, not liking how she was already ruining the branded new dress she bought with Rafe. The smell of strong alcohol wafted into her nostrils, causing her to scrunch her nose.

“Watch where you’re going,” the person said, and (Y/N) rolled her eyes before finally leaving the scene, not wanting to stir any unnecessary drama. She knows it will always end up dirty and Rafe will have to calm her down in the car.

(Y/N) pushed her way through the swarm of sweaty bodies as the dress reeked with alcohol clung onto her body, and she momentarily regretted her choice of wearing a skin tight short sequin dress to a club where dropping drinks on someone is just something that is bound to happen.

She sighed when she finally reached the bathroom, quickly washing her stains with the cheap toilet paper. It left some white bits on her dress when she finally removed them, and she groaned again before washing the fabric under the running water. Her day was going totally bad, and she dreamed of the night she could’ve spent with Rafe if only Topper wasn’t born on yesterday’s date 19 years ago.

“That’s what I’m saying!” a loud voice shrieked, followed by group of shrill laughs. “God, I really wish I’m still with him.”

(Y/N) raised her brows at the familiar voice, but thought none of it. Topper wouldn’t invite Rafe’s ex, he knows what she did to him. There was no way she was allowed to be in the private part of the club, unless someone had brought her as their plus one.

(Y/N) shook her head at the thought, trying to focus on the stains that seemed to be making everything hard for her.

“He has this habit of running his fingers through his hair when he’s receiving head,” the voice continued, and (Y/N) stopped in her tracks.

That’s exactly Rafe. Whoever the voice was, she was talking about Rafe. Rafe has this habit of running his long fingers through his hair while he’s whimpering, and it always drives (Y/N) crazy.

She thought nothing of it, thinking about the possibility of another guy doing the same thing. It’s a common thing anyways; she wasn’t going to pull the crazy jealous girlfriend card that night.

She turned to pull another tissue paper, her ears still intently listening to the group of friends who seemed to not mind receiving any attention from their bold topic.

“Now he’s with that (Y/L/N) girl. I honestly don’t get why he would be with her. Oh and-” the voice squealed, “Do you know that Rafe called me when they were talking?”

What?

“What?” her friends asked in disbelief, and (Y/N) didn’t move a muscle. She pressed her back against the tiled walls, listening close. Her heartbeat beat faster, and she could feel her head getting lighter.

“Yes! It was like, the first month they started getting close? He told me he couldn’t get over me and that he tried everything including finding me in her.”

(Y/N) felt the walls closing in, and quickly got to her feet to splash some water onto her face. She felt like dying right then and right there, but she knew she had to at least hear more to, now identified, Rafe’s ex girlfriend.

“He drove to my house and we just talked, you know. . . and then he told me something, and I refused. He got mad, I guess, and we fought like always, and he left me to be with that girl until today. Kinda sucks to be her, you know? Like the second choice kind of thing?” she continued, an amused tone lacing in her voice.

At that point, (Y/N) had heard enough. She walked towards the exit as fast as her heels could take her, not stopping to stay goodbye to her now approaching friends. She could feel her hot tears crashing down, but she didn’t feel like crying in the club and having random strangers coming up to her to soothe her down.

When the night breeze hit her square on the face as she finaly exited the suffocating club, she let out the hardest cry ever as she tried to find any available taxis through her tears. There were none, seeing that it was only 9 p.m. and people had just starting to arrive, so she decided to walk to nowhere until she finds any yellow vehicle.

“Hey, (Y/N)!” a voice called out from behind her, and she turned when a hand pulled her shoulder. “What the fuck? Are you okay? Where’s Rafe?”

“Kelce, I’m not feeling good. I just want to go home, okay? Please, oh my god. I can’t do this right now,” she cried, covering her eyes with her palm. Kelce pulled her into a side hug, allowing her tears on his new t-shirt. When she finally soothed down, he tried to find an answer in her face again.

“What happened?”

“I can’t tell you now, I just-” she took a deep breath, “I just can’t. Can you um, call a Uber for me, please? My phone’s with Rafe.”

“What? Why would your phone-” he sighed, taking out his own phone. “Borrow my phone. It’s safer this way. Call a Uber, get home, and don’t do anything stupid. Okay?”

(Y/N) nodded, kissing Kelce’s cheeks before ordering a Uber, waiting by the sidewalk impatiently. She was scared Rafe would come out to look for her, and she didn’t feel like talking to him.

She felt like shooting him in his ribs until he’s begging for her to stop.

When she got home, her fingers trembling and her dress now ruined, she stripped out of her clothes and got under her covers. Her mother tried asking her about why she had come home earlier than expected with a running mascara and a smudged lipstick, but decided to let it pass when she didn’t answer, knowing that something has indeed happened.

She felt like screaming. She had trusted him so much, and he was even the first guy to take her virginity. Now she felt disgusted, thinking about how she had allowed herself to the sweet words he had given her before.

She couldn’t ignore the memory of the night she first experienced sex with him, and the whole sweet care he had provided after.

It was Friday the 13th, and Rafe decided it will be a good night to watch some type of a horror movie. (Y/N) agreed, being a fan of horror, but until one point, she was bored with the super-slow plot and boring characters.

She played with Rafe’s fingers, intertwining them with hers, before she got an idea midway of the female character’s scream that echoed throughout her bedroom.

“Rafe,” she said, and Rafe hummed in response. His eyes were fixated to the screen, not paying any attention to her. She whined, “Rafe. . .”

“Yeah?” He finally looked down to her, and laughed when he saw the face she gave him. “What the hell is wrong with you? The best part’s coming up. Watch it, the guy’s going to- fuck.”

(Y/N) had slipped her hand into his basketball shorts, teasing the outline of his v-line. Rafe’s breath shuddered, and he grabbed her hands before things escalate.

“What the fuck are you doing?” He grunted.

“I just wanna try something,” she replied innocently, and Rafe swore he felt like his heart stopping right then and right there. She was that sweet girl, and he has never saw this side of her.

“Can I?” she asked, and with a tiny nod, she continued her movements as Rafe’s eyes stayed glued on the television screen, though his mind was already on cloud nine.

She was so good, and Rafe couldn’t explain the feeling inside of him when he watched her palmed him, her mouth slightly open and her hair falling down to her shoulders. Rafe felt like attacking every inch of her, wanting to give anything that she desired.

“Stop,” he said, closing his eyes. “Fuck, you’re gonna make me cum from just your hands.”

“I want you to,” she said, and Rafe cursed. He liked, scratch that, he loved and is obsessed with the way she did anything to him, with her innocent eyes and her teasing smile. He felt like fucking her numb every single time she purposely brushed her hands against his buldge in the restaurant or bumping her bottoms against him when playing golf.

And when she would deny her actions, god, he felt like giving his all to her until she couldn’t walk.

“Rafe,” she said again, with that gint in her eyes. She leaned onto him, and he shievered when he felt her lips brushing with his earlobes.

“I want you to fuck me.”

Rafe groaned, not wanting to look her in the eyes, afraid that he would do things he will regret the next morning. He felt her fingers around his chin, forcing him to look at her.

“Please.”

“You told me you wanted to wait,” he said softly.

“I’m done waiting,” she had said, and that was enough for Rafe to crash his lips against her soft ones, pushing her lightly to her queen sized bed. He felt her hands playing with the hem of his shorts, and being an impatience fuck like his dad, he guided her hands to his already hard penis, craving for her touch.

“Fuck,” he groaned, closing his eyes to the euphoric feeling starting to form in the pit of his stomach. His fingers fumbled with her shorts, trying to untie the waistband, and grunted when he couldn’t gues the knot.

(Y/N) giggled, untying the ribbon, sliding her shorts to the edge of her bed as Rafe waited with his eyes staring at her hands eagerly, like a prey waiting to attack.

Once her shorts were off, Rafe didn’t waste anymore time to place kisses from her stomach down to the sides of her aching core. (Y/N) couldn’t take it anymore, after so many nights of trying to picture this exact moment in her head whilst fingering herself, pretending like it has been Rafe’s fingers instead of herself, she wanted to feel him around her so bad.

“Please, Rafe,” she begged, looking at him with the innocent eyes again. She moaned when he inserted his fingers in her, pleasuring her the way pornstars would from the many porn videos his cousin had taught him to watch since he was 10 before.

“Oh my god,” she screamed, not able to comprehend the strange feeling in her stomach. She tried to close her legs, only for Rafe to gripped them apart tightly, his eyebrows furrowing.

“Do that again and I’ll leave you hanging.”

It was the way he had said that that left (Y/N) all red, pushing herself against him to reach her end. She felt a sudden feeling approaching, and gripped Rafe’s wrist to tell him.

Rafe laughed when she had came around his dingers, feeling her juice soaking up his fingers and her bedsheet. (Y/N) sighed, still heaving from her high, making a mental note in her head to love this other side of Rafe Cameron.

“Suck,” he said, placing his two soaked fingers in front of her face and watched her as she sucked on them like a little girl who’s licking off a lollipop that her mother had bought for her. He felt like cumming just from the sight of her face.

“I want you inside me,” she had said again, and Rafe groaned to look away, not wanting to be a regret she had made the next morning. He looked at her again when she sat on his lap, looking at him with puppy dog eyes.

“Please?” she whispered, and before he knew it, she licked his ear to the the side of his lip before placing a soft peck on his lips.

Rafe has never removed his basketball shorts as fast as he did that night, not even when he had felt an animal crawling in his pants in the pet shop when he was 8 that resulted Sarah into having a laughing fit when they found out that a hamster had gotten into his pants.

He positioned himself in front of her slit, waiting for any new demands for him to stop now that she had changed her mind. But there was nothing, only (Y/N) demanding for him, and without wasting any more time, he slowly slided into her, strecthing her hole.

He grunted when she felt her closing in, knowing that if she kept doing that, he’ll finish straight away. (Y/N) screamed as he fucked her with a quick pace, causing him to quickly pull her head close to him to whisper into her ear.

“Shut up, princess. Don’t want mummy and daddy to wake up, do we?”

(Y/N) shook her head, wanting to reach her end soon. She moaned against her mattress, smelling Rafe’s scent from it, and liking the way he would whimper when he hit her g-spot.

“I’m so close, baby, fuck-” he cursed, his pace getting sloppier. His fingers with his cold rings intertwined with hers as he slammed into her for good measure, and pulling out to aim on her face as she tried to regain her breath.

(Y/N) felt a shot of hot load landing on her face as she finally looked up to him, his sweaty chest heaving from the ungodly practice they just did. Rafe groaned, feeling himself getting hard again from the sight of her with his load all over her, and quickly turned away to grab a clean towel to clean her up.

That night, with a soft lullaby playing from (Y/N)’s record player that Rafe had bought for her in Italy, he ran his fingers through her hair as she snuggled close, watching the moonlight brightened the ocean.

Rafe sighed, now wrapping his arms around her, forcing himself to not touch her breast in any way. “I’m sorry if it wasn’t what you had pictured in your mind.”

“Are you kidding?” she turned to face him, “God, Rafe. That’s exactly how I wanted it with you.”

Rafe chuckled and placed a soft kiss on her forehead, “God. I love you.”

“I love you too.”

Riing! Riing!

(Y/N) wiped her tears with her fingers before pressing on the green button, bringing the phone to her ears when she saw Topper’s name. She decided that he deserved an explanation after she had ran off from his birthday party.

“Tops?”

“Hey, baby, you didn’t pick up my call. I have to use Topper’s phone but, um-” (Y/N) heard the crowd sang happy birthday, “But um, are you okay? Kelce told me you were crying and I-”

“I’m fine. You should sing happy birthday to Topper.”

“I’ll be there in a bit,” he said to a voice in the background, and tried to talk to her again. “What is it, baby? The line’s kinda shitty here. Are you okay?”

“I’m fine.”

“Okay. I know you’re not. Can you please tell me what happened?”

“It’s nothing, Rafe. Go and enjoy yourself.”

“God, (Y/N), don’t pull this shit on me,” he sighed, and she waited until the background noise lessen. “Okay, I’m at the smoking area. Can you please tell me what happened?”

“You used me.”

“I’m - what?” he asked, “What the fuck are you talking about?”

“I heard her talking about how you drove to see her and you told her that you tried finding her in me,” she finaly confessed, her voice breaking. A tear slowly rolled down her red cheeks and she quickly wiped them away.

“Baby, it’s not how it sounds like.”

“Then what is it?” she yelled, clutching onto Kelce’s phone like it was her life support. “Fuck, Rafe, I gave you my everything.”

“Baby, I swear, it’s just-”

(Y/N) waited for him to finish his sentence, and sucked in a breath when she heard the voice that had caused her this misery.

“Rafe! What are you doing here?”

“Fuck, (Y/N), I’ll come by to your house, okay? Please, don’t do anything stupid, I’m coming back home-”

(Y/N) pressed the end call, letting go of the breath she was holding before finally throwing her head back against the pillow.

#Part 2

add yourself to the taglist!

#rafe cameron #rafe cameron imagines #rafe cameron x reader #rafe obx #rafe cameron smuts #outer banks #outerbanks #outerbanks imagines #drew starkey #drew starkey x reader #drew starkey smuts #outerbanks x reader

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sunrisefairy · 3 years

Text

Cameras and crushes

Pairing: George Weasley x reader

Warning: Alcohol, small mention of death, pure fluffiness

Summary: Y/N is used to being a background character someone you glaze over but never really notice. But more recently she longed for someone to see her, well she longed for a certain redhead to see her.

A/N: Wrote this for @theweasleysredhair writing challenge based off the prompt “You remembered?” very proud of this fic so i hope you love it as much as i do. All feedback is welcomed :))))

italics represent a flashback

Taglist: send me a message if you would like to be added @hufflepuff5972 @inglourious-imagines @klausdatprettyboi @georgeweasleyswhre

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Y/N is very content with being a background character, she’s quite used to it actually. Growing up with 3 older and much louder brothers she was pretty happy with sticking to the sidelines, letting them be noisy and crazy while she kept to herself. Y/N grew up with mostly boys around her, her mother passed away when she was young. Y/N would always beg her brothers and her dad for stories of her mother, wanting to feel closer to her. Y/N’s dad would fondly retell memories of his beautiful wife, reminiscing on how witty and charismatic she was. He’d mention all the small, quirky things she would do which made him fall hard and fast for her. Y/N longed for that kind of love, she longed for someone to take notice of her in the way her dad did for her mum. Ever since Y/N was a little girl she yearned to be heard and seen but that proved difficult when you’re as shy and quiet as her.

Judging by most of the people in Y/N’s life she seemed to attract the boisterous types, guessing her quiet nature balanced them out. She loved her friends with her entire heart, even if their personalities were the opposite of hers, Y/N wouldn’t change their qualities if she could.

One of her friends, although still lively and vibrant as the others, also had a calm and tranquil side to him. George Weasley. Y/N had only known George for a few years having met at Lee Jordan’s 18th birthday 3 years ago. Somehow that night she had ended up climbing a tree with the tall redhead whom she had only met 30 minutes prior.

“How the hell did you get up to that branch?” Y/N mumbled, trying to figure out how to reach the higher branch where George Weasley was currently sitting, his long legs swinging back and forth as he chuckled at the girl below him.

“I used that branch sticking out there and then swung my leg up to get here.” George points to the branch to the girls left.

Y/N grunts as she attempts what George said but huffs and pouts her lip feeling defeated, “you forget that I have little legs, unlike you Mr. giraffe.”

George rolls his eyes and stretches his hand out, “try again, I’ll help pull you up.”

Somehow, George manages to pull Y/N up and they sit comfortably next to one another up high in the tree. “There you go little bunny, don’t go falling off now.”

Y/N rolls her eyes at the nickname wishing she had brought her cider up with her feeling very self-conscious and unsure of what to do her shaking hands.

The pair fall into a comfortable silence, watching the party goers below them gathered around a very intoxicated birthday boy chanting as he chugs another beer, “we love to drink with Lee cause Lee is our mate and when we drink with Lee he gets it down in 8…7…”

Their voices drown out as George gently nudges Y/N’s shoulder pulling her attention back to him, “soo, Y/N I hear you’re not much of the talker?”

Y/N blushes hard grateful for the lack of light outside. “No I guess not. Not many are interested in what I have to say.”

George smiles, his eyes not leaving the girl beside him, “well I am. Tell me something.”

Y/N chews on her bottom lip nervously and looks back at the drunk crowd, “like what?”

George shrugs, he didn’t really mind what the conversation was about, he just wanted to hear the pretty girl speak. “I dunno, anything. Tell me about something that makes you happy.”

Y/N racks her brain for something to talk about, her palms getting sweaty from the long silence. Finally, she settles on something that always fills her with joy, her mother.

“Um okay so,” she starts staring at the leaves swaying in the tree, pushing down the anxiety. “Before my mother died she always had this film camera with her, my dad used to joke around saying that she loved this camera more than him,” Y/N chuckles quietly before continuing “She would take photos of the most random things, we have this big box back home filled with all the photos she ever took with that camera.” Y/N pauses, fumbling with her fingers. “I wish we still had the camera. You see after my mum passed, dad had to look after us 4 kids and with only one income coming in, it was pretty tough. For my 12th birthday I reeeaaally wanted a new bike, I’d complained for years that I couldn’t have my brothers old one because it was a gross boy’s bike. So, my dad sold my mums camera to get me a pink one. Kind of wish he didn’t because I would have loved to still have mum’s camera with us.”

Y/N finished and chewed her lip realising speaking about her dead mother probably wasn’t a great conversation piece, but any story of her mother always made her feel warm inside.

George hadn’t taken his eyes off her throughout the whole story, his heart fluttering when her eyes had lit up as she spoke about her mother.

“I’m sorry, probably not what you wanted to hear, it was the first thing that popped into my head.” Y/N mumbled.

George simply shook his head and replied, “you don’t ever have to apologise to me for saying what’s on your mind Y/N. I’ll listen to whatever you have to say.”

For the first time in a while, Y/N felt seen.

Y/N’s phone dings and she pulls it from her pocket to read the message.

-Hey bunny :) so 4 tonight, we’re aiming to get to urs at like 7. does that work for u?

It was from George. Even if she didn’t have his number saved, she’d be able to tell it was from the redhead simply from his choice of nickname. Y/N hated when he called her bunny but George insisted on using the nickname ever since Lee’s 18th mainly because he thought it was cute not that he would tell her that.

Y/N’s heart thumped harder in her chest purely from the fact that George had texted her. Her crush on George had amplified over the years of knowing the boy, feeling both thankful and uneasy at the fact that he had so effortlessly slotted into their tight friendship group mainly because he was always around making Y/N a stuttering mess.

Y/N’s fingers fumble as she types out a response, it was her birthday today and all her friends we’re persistent in throwing her a party. They had agreed to a small gathering at Y/N’s place, Y/N didn’t want them to make such a fuss over it.

-Hey Georgie, 7 is perfect! Cant wait.

-See u then bunny, hope ur ready to get ur drink on ;)

-IDK, after the other weekend I dont think im ready to face alcohol again

-nope! no excuses from u, u only turn 21 once

Y/N chuckles at George’s message and goes back to tidying her house, ready for tonight.

~~~~

As soon as it hits 7pm her friends are barging through her front door lugging drinks.

Each of them greet Y/N giving her a hug and wishing her happy birthday.

“We’ll do presents later, first let’s get some drinks into us!” Angelina cheers as she starts to mix some deadly concoction. Alicia connects her phone to the speaker, the living room filling with music.

Y/N jumps as a voice pipes up from behind her, “happy birthday little bunny.”

She turns facing George as he places a brightly coloured wrapped box on the counter with the other presents. He opens his arms, engulfing her into a giant hug. Y/N wraps her arms around his waist, giving him a tight squeeze, “thanks” she mumbles into his chest before pulling away looking up at his warm eyes. They stare at each other for a second before the moment is broken when Fred places something on Y/N’s head.

“A birthday tiara for the birthday girl” Fred states loudly, Y/N glances at the mirror hanging from the wall on her left sees a plastic silver and pink tiara perched upon her head.

“Oh god,” Y/N mumbles adjusting it slightly.

Lee shouts over the music, drawing everyone’s attention over to him. “Okay everyone, the ever lovely Angie has made us each a questionable looking but delicious drink to start the night. So get your butts over here and let’s get this party started!”

A few hours and many, many drinks later, everyone is huddled in the living room, sitting on the couches watching Y/N open her presents. So far, she had gotten some perfume from Angelina, chocolates and a gorgeous photo frame from Alicia and Fred and Lee had gifted Y/N with a bottle of wine and voucher from the little boutique at the corner of her street. Y/N’s cheeks were hurting from smiling so much and her heart swelled at the sweet gifts her friends had gotten her.

“Okay, only one left,” Alicia says, clapping her hands excitedly.

“Probably the best one,” Fred whispers to Lee.

“Of course it’s going to be the best one you idiot,” Angelina says as a matter of fact, overhearing the two boys.

George, who is sitting to Y/N’s right, hands over the brightly colour box, trying to hide his excitement and nerves. “Here you go Y/N, happy birthday.”

The box feels heavy in Y/N’s grasp as she places it in her lap tearing off the wrapping paper. Y/N glances around, noticing everyone’s eager eyes on her. She sees Angelina nudge Alicia’s side smiling at each other knowingly. Y/N furrow her brows, slightly confused then draws her attention back to the box. She ripped off the paper carefully and uncover a brown box, no hints as to what is inside.

“Oh my god, hurry up and open it the suspense is killing me!” Fred says impatiently, George whacks him across the head telling him to shut up.

Y/N take off the lid and immediately her mouth gapes open finally seeing what’s inside. She shakily lifts the film camera out of the box and hold it so gently as if it’s made of diamonds and gold.

Small tears prick in Y/N’s eyes, shocked and surprised at George’s gift, it looks exactly like the one her mother had.

She manages to squeak out a small, “you remembered?” referring to the first conversation they had 3 years prior.

George has a small smile etched onto his lips. “Of course I did, I remember everything you tell me. I take a lot of pride in knowing everything about you actually.” He says, puffing his chest out proudly.

“Yeah like what?” Y/N cradles the camera in her arms.

“Well,” George starts. “I know that you hate the smell tequila because it reminds you of your 18th when you spent most of the night by the toilet. I know that you can’t sleep if the room is dead quiet. I know that you love buying plants but can never seem to keep them alive. I know you never wear matching socks because you think it’s a fun way to spice up an outfit.” He finishes smugly.

Alicia and Angelina let out a small aww in the background reminding Y/N of the 4 other sets of eyes watching her and George right now.

“Well there’s one thing you don’t know about me.”

“Yeah? What’s that then?” George counters.

Y/N doesn’t know where she musters up the courage from to speak the next words, maybe from the alcohol buzzing through her body or finally being sick of keeping this to herself for the past 3 years. Whatever it may be, she’s rather proud of herself, ignoring the way her stomach churns.

“That I have a huge crush on you.”

She expected George to laugh in her face before rejecting her gently. What Y/N definitely didn’t expect was him to cradle her face in his large hands, pressing a sweet but passionate kiss to her pink lips. She squeaks in surprise before melting into the kiss, gripping onto his shirt tightly, scared he would slip away.

Much to Y/N’s dismay George pulls away from the kiss tucking a strand of her hair back behind her ear, “no I knew that too.”

“Wha-how?” Y/N stutters.

The attention is pulled to Alicia as she begins to speak, “it wasn’t much of a secret babe. Everybody knew you were crushing on George. Can’t believe it took either one of you so long to do something about it.”

“Little Georgie here spent months trying to find that camera for you as a way to confess his undying love for you.” Fred reaches over and ruffles his twin’s hair who shoves him off.

“Yep, we were all so bloody excited for you to open his presents so you two can stop pining over each other.” Lee adds downing the rest of his drink then standing up. “Right, now the two love birds have finally confessed their feelings. Who’s up for a round of beer pong? Reigning champion here has yet to be defeated.”

“You’re on Jordan, that ego of yours has gotten large enough.” Fred challenges, everyone moving over to the table to set up for beer pong. Leaving Y/N and George alone on the couch.

George wraps his lanky arm around Y/N’s shoulder pulling her into his side, “I hope you’re enjoying your birthday bunny.”

Y/N grins widely, playing with her new camera before lifting it up and aiming it at George. “best birthday ever Georgie, thank you.” She squeezes the button down, snapping a picture of George who is staring at her like she’s the only person in the world.

Y/N is very content with being a background character, she’s quite used to it actually. But for once she doesn’t mind being the centre of someone’s undivided attention.

#George weasley #George weasley one shot #george weasley x reader #george weasley x you #george weasley fanfic #george weasley fluff #george weasley fan fic #Fred and george #george weasley imagine #twrh9kwritingchallenge

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hotdamnhunnam · 3 years

Text

Nefarious Shit

Charlie Hunnam: Lockdown Lovin’

A/N: Here’s a fluffy smutty little fic with Charlie being all cuddly and domestic! 🥰 Based on the below request, in which you are Mrs. Hunnam, spending quarantine with him. He’s recording this video for his fans, but your presence in the room is a distraction—and gets him in the mood for some action...

Pairing: Charlie Hunnam x F!Reader Warnings: smut, swearing, dirty talk, stupidly fluffy fluff, you & him behaving like silly little idiots in love Request: Request 1 (@rochyu) + Request 2 (anon)

Word Count: ~2.2k

Note: I definitely recommend watching the actual video for context! (It’s less than 3 minutes.) This fic quotes some of Charlie’s lines from it, plus some gifs! ✨

“Hey.”

It’s a very simple word for anyone to say. One of the simplest. But somehow the way Charlie Hunnam says ‘hey’ turns you on like nobody’s business. As he starts to record, he says it with a playful smirk like it’s some kind of dirty word, and makes it sound so hot it hurts, ‘cause he’s a cheeky little bastard.

The word wasn’t even addressed to your ass in this instance. Your loving husband—yes, your husband, be that as it may, you still pinch yourself damn every day—is recording a short video for his fans. Felt the need to condemn some nefarious hooligans, using his good name in vain, for their personal gain. Ordering them to never do shit like that ever again. And warning his fans not to interact with frauds on social media who falsely represent themselves as him.

Watching him from the other end of the room, you’ve never been happier to be Mrs. Hunnam.

Charlie acknowledges to his audience that he doesn’t do stuff like this very often. “So, I don’t usually, um—make videos like this, but...”

While he records you keep distant and quiet; your marriage is thankfully private. No one else in the world needs to know that a humble civilian girl is the love of his life, and his wife, and his full-time cock-worshiping slut.

Speaking of being such a slut... you’re currently wearing nothing but Jax Teller’s legendary kutte. It’s one of your husband’s most prized possessions, hung in pride of place in his closet—he never lets anyone touch it. It’s sacred, and strictly off-limits. But on certain occasions, he tells you to strip your ass naked... and then put his kutte on so that he can fuck you in it.

So right before this little video, no more than five minutes ago, that’s what he just did. You reminisce about it, while Charlie carries on scolding the scum of the internet. “You know—far be it from me to dictate what anyone is doing, other than: if you’re using my name to do some nefarious shit...”

Meanwhile you figure you should change into a somewhat respectable outfit, smiling to yourself as you think about all the ‘nefarious shit’ you and your husband do. The whole world has no clue...

And you have no clue—though you probably should—that as soon as you take off this kutte, to put some proper shirt and pants on... your bare skin captures Charlie’s attention. And just as any dirty bastard would, now he’s already thinking of the next nefarious thing he’s gonna do to you.

***************

Charlie mentions on the video that he hasn’t left the house in a long while. As he says it he looks over at you with a chuckle and a thirsty little smile. He tries to keep it subtle, but it’s hard for him to focus when you’re half-naked and all he can think about is just how lucky he is you’re his girl. In the meantime he’s saying on record how it’s a weird time for the world, what with social distancing and isolation, and how angry he is that people would be using his good name to manipulate others in the middle of such an insane global situation.

2020 has certainly been a strange year. But you’ve been so blessed to spend every damn minute of lockdown with your loving husband, in this house that you’ve made your home, as Mr. and Mrs. Charlie Hunnam. Home is where the heart is and yours is right here.

Your man signs off, sending his fans all of his love. Well, not quite all of it of course—to be sure, the best and biggest part of his heart is all yours.

So is 100% of his dick. The two of you have been fucking roughly five times a day in the midst of this global pandemic. ‘Roughly’ as in ‘approximately’—though fortunately for you, the other meaning applies too, more often than not. After all your husband is a literal sex god.

By now you’ve put on a pink lacy bra and panties with one of Jax’s SAMCRO T-shirts thrown over your torso. So you’re hardly respectably dressed but much more so, compared to when you were in only his kutte a few moments ago.

You had been considering pants but decided against it given that this men’s tee is plenty to cover up most of your skin. It’s all soft and comfy and smells of him. Wearing his clothes as often as you want is one of the thousands of benefits of being Mrs. Hunnam.

But the biggest benefit is the enormous piece of meat between his legs. Which always treats you to the world’s most epic sex.

“Well, that was distracting as fuck,” your man playfully scolds as he slams his laptop shut. Through his grey sweatpants you can see that he’s already hard as a rock. “Good thing the camera didn’t catch sight of my cock. You cheeky little slut.”

“What? Love, it’s not as if you’ve never seen me with my clothes off...” you scoff, with a provocative bat of your lashes as he slowly crosses the room toward you.

“You think that makes the sight of you any less stunning?” he asks as he takes in the view. Although your top is mostly covered by this tee, your legs are bare to see, and Charlie loves seeing his clothes on his woman. “You know nothing, Mrs. Hunnam.”

He then approaches till he’s close enough to place his hands upon your hips, to hear your heated breathing, taste the next words from your lips: “Enlighten me, then.”

Your husband clicks his tongue at you as if he seriously disapproves. You often jump at any chance for 50 Shades roleplay given the role that he turned down some time ago and Charlie is all too familiar with your moves. “Now, Y/N, I think you just mixed up two very separate pop culture references.”

“Then maybe you should educate me on the differences...” you suggest. Of course you’re well aware that Christian Grey and Jon Snow are two very different men, and Charlie knows that but it’s fun for you to both pretend. “You’re the movie star, after all. What does this so-called ‘enlightenment’ involve?”

He smiles and shakes his head, referring back to the first time that he played Mr. Grey in the bedroom as if you could ever forget. “I’ve already given you a lesson in proper submission.”

“Well, I guess I didn’t listen.”

“I doubt that,” he purrs, suddenly reaching to rip the shirt off of your shoulders, letting it fall to the floor. “You look prettier without that.”

You hadn’t resisted at all but it’s fun to pretend that you had. Scowling at him as if you’re mad, you then reach up and tap your palm against the top of his head with a patronizing pat. “Well, you looked better with the hat.”

Charlie gasps as if appalled, insulted to the core of his soul. “Hey, that’s not fair...!”

“I told you to do something with your hair,” you remind him of the brief conversation you’d had before he recorded. Acting as if you’re seriously scolding him though you both know you’re not at all. “Or at least to keep that fucking hat on over it. Instead you showed up looking like a chicken with that ridiculous tuft sticking out at the back of your head, and then admitted to the world you need to get your hair sorted.”

There’s a mirror on the wall nearby, and you gesture toward it, so that Charlie can see with his own two eyes. He realizes he really does look like the world’s sexiest chicken. “So what, now looking like a chicken is a sin?”

“Of course it is.”

He flashes you a precious pout, knowing you’ll be desperate to kiss it off his mouth. “But you once told me I could strut around in a potato sack and still look gorgeous.”

It’s all too true yet you refuse to take the bait. Instead decide to make him wait. “I just said that to butter you up so you’d marry me, sucker.”

“Motherfucker—!” Charlie gasps again, as you start running away from him flapping your arms like a chicken.

You laugh back at him. “More like motherclucker!”

The two of you are very adult—perhaps to a fault—when it comes to the hot filthy sex that you have with him. Honestly filthy as hell. But when it comes to foreplay and teasing and everything else... you are literally just a couple of overgrown idiot children.

Charlie chases you all through the halls and downstairs to the kitchen. “Don’t tempt me into punishing you!”

Needless to say you want him to. “Oooh, you mean with that big cock-a-doodle-doo?”

He finally catches you as you run to the living room, your laughter picking up in volume, pinning you down to the sofa as he ruins you with his icy blue stare. “Shut up about the fucking hair.”

His hands are so close to your neck and you just wish that he would put them there and squeeze. “Mmm, but you’re so much fun to tease...”

Instead of choking you, he drops his hands down toward your chest, tracing the lacy fabric of your bra to grab your breasts, tenderly stroking you. “I bet you think this is when I say to get on your fucking knees.”

You moan at the touch of his talented fingers, begging in a breathless whisper. “Fuck, yes please...?”

“No,” he responds, so brutally denying what his woman wants. “For once, that’s not how this is gonna go. Sit up.”

He props you comfortably in position, amidst all the cushions. Ignoring your urge to get down on the floor, in submission, serve him as his cocksucking whore. Play your usual role as the good little slut. “But—”

“Stay up,” he interrupts. “I don’t wanna play rough. Today I’m feeling soft.”

“Well, that’s a lie...” you reply, lowering your eyes, one hand reaching to graze the prize bulging between his thighs.

“Hands off the merchandise. Let me indulge in playing nice.”

“But whyyy?” you protest with a sigh. “I’ve been such a bitch, hoping that I would get punished for it...”

Your man just shakes his gorgeous chicken-haired head. “You mean rewarded. There’s no point in getting punished when you’re gunning for it.”

Well, fuck him for being so fucking correct. “Charlie...”

“Shhh,” he hushes you softly, as you realize that this is how you’re getting punished: he hears your inner cockslut loud and clear but is determined to ignore it. “Just lie back and let me love this body that belongs to me. Admire and adore it.”

And at those words off of his lips, which he seals with a loving kiss... you lose all power and desire to resist. You’re so completely fucking his. As eager as you always are for rough and filthy sex—as much as part of you will always want to beg—you’re equally obsessed with this. Getting lost in his touch, sweet kisses and caresses from the man you love so much, drowning in the pure magic of romantic bliss.

You love each other so much it’s ridiculous. Hilarious. Downright nefarious.

Within seconds both of your clothes are gone, like they were never even on. His every move is slow yet sudden all at once. The warmth of his soft lips and tongue lavishing love across your chest, his mouth latching around your breast, two fingers slipping in the hot flood of your cunt. Thumb playing with your swollen clit, as he keeps passionately sucking on your tits.

Time fucking bends, seconds to minutes, hours even, as your man descends, until his mouth is where his hand had been—when did that even happen?—every inch of his tongue sending you to heaven. Soon enough he seamlessly replaces his mouth with his cock, and by then... fuck, you’re honestly done. So far gone. He never has to ask to know exactly what you want, because he’s everything you want. And need and love.

As mind-blowing as Charlie is at playing rough, he’s just as good at being soft. He’s all about the fluff and stuff. One tender hand sweeping a strand of hair behind your ear, the other reaching down to pull you near.

There are so many words he doesn’t have to say for you to hear.

Just how grateful he is, that you are his. To have you here. It’s been a weird and crazy year—so fucking weird—and heavy with the weight of blood and tears, the whole world literally plagued with pain and fear. But the love that you share with your husband, is the one thing that’s always constant, true and clear.

And the love he makes... cradles your heart till it’s so full it aches, fucking breaks, as your whole body quakes and the earth fucking shakes. Knowing that he will spend all his life putting every last piece into its perfect place, and holding it together whatever it takes.

It’s not fair that a man like this even exists. Let alone that you’re so fucking blessed to be his. It’s some serious, downright nefarious shit. Gazing up into his eyes of endless blue, you realize for the thousandth time no girl in all the world is luckier than you.

And of course once this session of soft tender loving is through—then, to make all your deepest and dirtiest dreams cum true... there are at least fifty thousand shades of filthy shit your nefarious husband can do.

***************

Hope you enjoyed this, and would love to hear if you did! 🤗💖

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#charlie hunnam #charlie hunnam smut #charlie hunnam imagine #charlie hunnam fanfiction #charlie hunnam fic #charlie hunnam x reader #charlie hunnam x you #jax teller #sons of anarchy #soa #rpf #rpf fanfic #rpf fanfiction #celebrity imagines

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unloved-cadillac · 3 years

Note

aot manga spoilers⚠️

(angst prompt 2) 3 and 9

okay so armin has been cheating on the reader and feels so guilty he tells annie while she’s in her crystal not knowing she liked the reader and was listening the whole time so when she comes out she keeps it to herself but when she sees armin and the reader together she gets jealous she eventually tells reader and comforts them when they break up with armin (so basically an armin x reader that turns into annie x reader)

sorry if it’s to much and feel free to ignore

C/n: fuck it’s feels time! 🗣 MANGA SPOILERS AHEAD!!!Thanks for requesting and I hope that you enjoy🤍

——————————————————————————

Deserve Better. (Armin x Reader; Annie x Reader)

Armin sat in front of the giant crystal with his shell in his palms. His bright blue eyes flowing with tears as he confessed to all of his wrong doings.

“Annie, I don’t know how. I don’t know why I did it. Y/n is amazing. I just...I needed to release all of my stress and Y/n was always busy. I get it but I had needs. We hadn’t..you know in a while and I just needed that release. It’s been going on for two weeks. I need to stop. Y/n wouldn’t forgive me if they found out.” He sniffs and looks up to the “sleeping” girl. “Thanks for listening, Annie. I hope you wake up soon.” He finally says and gets up and goes outside, composing himself before going to see you.

Annie’s eyes shot open. The next day, her crystal was empty.

~~~~

You, Armin and a few others sat at a table eating pie while discussing some plans. Armin saw you had crumbs on your face and gently removed them. You smile and peck his lips as you continued to eat. Annie watched Armin fake a smile and affection and it pissed her off to the max. He didn’t deserve to do that. He didn’t deserve your love. Not after being unfaithful and lying straight to your face.

“Annie?!” Connie screams and points at her as she stops mid-chewing. You turn as well as Armin and your eyes widen. “Annie! You’re here! How? Are you okay?” You sit next to her as you dust her face and search her for injuries. In her head, Annie is hugging you and giving you many kisses across your beautiful face. But in reality, she just smiles and nods. “I’m okay.” She looks at Armin who smiles. “It’s good to see you, Annie.” He says and she nods. She couldn’t talk to him. Not after hearing all of the horrible things he did behind your back. She would lash out and cause a scene, something she really didn’t want to do.

“Annie, we should get you back home. Just so you could rest and recover. Please?” You say and hold her hands. Annie smiles and looks at your intertwined hands. “Ok.” She whispers and you hug her. Even though she was a the Female titan who gave you night terrors of the horrible expedition that happened all those years ago, she was still the girl who had your back no matter what. The girl that you befriended because she was one hell of a fighter.

Annie got up with you and Armin took your hand and walked ahead of her as they led her back to base. She saw so much of love in your eyes to the man who betrayed you. He didn’t deserve your unconditional love.

~~~~

A few days passed and Armin was away with Jean for a meeting. You volunteered to stay with Annie since she was still your closest friend and you hadn’t seen her for years. She sat on her bed as you sat across her, smiling.

“What, idiot?” She asks you and you chuckle. “Nothing. I’m just glad that you’re here. I visited you as often as I could, you know. Not as often as I liked though.” You scratch your head and avoid her gaze.

“I know.”

You lift your head up, wide eyed. “Huh? You knew?” Annie nods. “I..was conscious that entire time. I heard Hitch, you and..Armin.” She begins and you blink at her, shocked. “Wait. Really?” You ask and she nods again. “Y/n, Armin told me a lot of things. Things that he thought would go unheard by me. He was venting to me and he said some stuff that you should know.” Annie says and your eyebrows pull in.

“What things?”

Annie gets up and sits next to you. She reaches and takes her hand in yours and looks at you. “Armin had been cheating on you for a while. He went to a brothel in town and did all of those things. He said it was to relieve stress and to forget. Y/n, I know it isn’t my place to tell you but you really don’t deserve him. Not if he is doing all of this to you.” Annie concludes as she looked at your shocked face.

“T-Two weeks?” You stutter and she nods. “That’s all I know. I won’t make this up. Originally I had hope that he would come clean but to see him so lovey with you and it just made my blood boil.” She grips your hand a bit tighter. All you do is sigh and cry, using Annie’s shoulder. “Thank you, Annie. For telling me.” You say and kiss her cheek. Annie hoists you into her lap and hugs you. “You deserved to know.”

You wipe your tears away and wake up from her lap, heading to the door. “Where are you going?” She asks and you face her. “To end it. I’ll be back.”

~~~~

Armin was on his way back to base when he saw your figure in view. “Y/n, what are you-..” he gets cut off by your hand slapping his face. “You son of a bitch! First you lie about working late and then you go fuck another person behind my back?! What kind of a man are you?!” You shout and he looks at you. “How did-..” “I know? Annie told. That’s right. She was conscious all that time you confessed and she told me. The fact that I had to hear it from her not you just shows me how much of a coward you are!”

Armin’s eyes begin to fill with tears and reaches to hold. “Don’t.” You slap his hands away. “I wish I had never met you. That way I wouldn’t be so heartbroken right now.” You spit out and Armin falls to his knees. “Y/n. I’m so sorry. I didn’t know what I was doing. I just felt so lost with this whole war and I know that isn’t an excuse but...” “No, Armin. You don’t get to defend yourself. Not after this.” You say and he bends his head down.

“I just...wasn’t enough, was I? We all were struggling with this war, but does that give you the right to cheat? You could’ve just talked to me. We would’ve taken a day off to relax. But no. You just took the easy way out instead of facing the problem.” You look at the top of his head as his shoulders shook as he cried. “I’m sorry.” He whispered and you scoff. “Me too. Goodbye Armin. It’s over.” You turn and walk away from him back to your room.

Annie sat on your bed, waiting for your return and when you did, you collapsed onto her lap and cried your heart out. Annie leaned over and rubbed your back until she heard your breathing even out and you slept on her. She fell back into the bed and slept with you until the next morning.

~~~~

You woke up from lying on Annie and rubbed your eyes. Annie was still knocked out and you smile at her. You yawned and got up from the bed. Annie heard you rustling and immediately woke up. “Hey. Sorry didn’t mean to wake you.” You say as you put on your jacket. “No it’s alright. How’d you sleep?” She asks you and you shrug your shoulders. “I’ve had better. Thanks for staying with me last night.” You walk over to her and kiss her forehead. When you pull away, you see Annie looking at your lips and few seconds later you feel hers on you.

Why didn’t you feel like this was wrong? Why did her first kiss with you feel one hundred times better than any of Armin’s?

You close your eyes as her hands cupped your face and yours wrapped around her. Annie pulled back and kissed your cheeks. “I’ve loved you for so long, Y/n.” She mumbles against your neck and you feel her crying. “I’m sorry. I couldn’t tell you what I was. I couldn’t bear the thought of losing you.” She whispers and you cup her face. “It’s alright, Annie. You’re not going to lose me. I love you.” You say and her face brightens.

Funny how the thing you needed was right in front of you this entire time.

~~~~

After the war, you held Annie tightly as she did too. She was so scared that she almost lost you. But you were okay and she was okay that was all that mattered.

You turn and see Armin who was on the floor crying as Mikasa walked away. You leave Annie for a little bit and walk to him. You wrap your arms around his shoulders and hug him.

“We’re okay, Armin. It’s over.” You say as he holds your hands. “I’m sorry, Y/n. I’m so fucking sorry.” “Shh. It’s okay. It’s all in the past now. All I want you to do now is heal. Promise me you’ll be okay? Promise me, Armin.” You tell him and he nods. “I promise. Have a good life, Y/n. You deserve it. You and Annie.”

“Yeah,” you turn and face her as she spoke with her dad,

“We will.”

——————————————————————————

“Have a good life.”

🖤🤍Thanks for reading🤍🖤

-Caddy.

#armin x reader #annie x reader #snk armin #annie leonhardt x reader #snk annie #attack on titan #shingeki no kyojin #aot #snk #aot fanfiction #aot x reader #armin alert x reader #shingeki no kyojin x reader #attack on titan fanfiction #attack on titan x reader #shingeki no kyojin fanfiction #shingeki no kyojin armin #annie leonhart imagine #annie snk

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jiminrings · 4 years

Note

hellooo can i request a drabble of uni!au art major tae and biochem major yn? also part one of the would you series is AMAZINGGG seriously i cant wait to read more!! <3

rich kid kim

pairing: taehyung x y/n

wordcount: 5k

glimpse: tae’s cold and probably needs a friend more than he needs a model, y/n feels this nEED to take care of him, a term of enderment then a dash of emotional constipation and a sprinkle of jealousy :D

notes: thank you for the request babes!! writing this made my heart melt and aND!!! thank you omg i’m glad you like would you :((

if you squint or if you’ve read insufferable, this is most probably taehyung and his y/n!!!

taehyung is personally more than willing to pay himself out of this project

oKAY LISTEN

he’s not the proudest knowing that he comes from a rich family and he’s the only kid and he’s never really struggled for much

everything was just given to him without any hesitations whatsoever

and yeah he admits that he can nEVER admit that his pampered and luxurious lifestyle since birth has shaped him to be this way and it’s hard to unlearn these types of things

things were too easy for him and thAt’s what made it hard

tae is the farthest thing from an outcast..,.,.,.,

.,.,. but that’s him in his usual rich boi bubble of elites wherever he goes because he’s surrounded by people like him

hoseok and jimin have got to be his closest friends but of course they pursued business degrees and everyone must’ve probably saw that coming

nobody, however, expected the kim taehyung to pursue a degree based rootly on passion and even major in it

yeah that’s right what are yOU looking at???

he’s an art student and yeah he’s taking this seriously ://

do yOU have a problem with that?? do you?? no what did you say?? step the fuck up ky-

spoiler alert: people do have a problem with that

taehyung could tell that his parents did a complete 180 when they learned through jimin’s noisy-ass mouth (not even through their own son) that he’s gonna be getting an art degree

his dad’s the one who’s most especially disappointed at him because well he’s the only child and uhhhh.,.,.,, so who’s gonna inherit the company now.,.,,,

tae normally feels selfish and this time, he felt like he was being rational rather than being selfish!! this is what he passionately wants!! pls god can i be selfish oNE more time

eventually his parents had no choice because as their son explained,, having an art degree won’t keep him away from the family business at all and he could even expand it!! he doesn’t need a degree!!!

lmao he’s been putting the money he gets on the stock market ever since he was ten years old

and they had to accept it eventually because this is what HE wants and if this is the only thing that he wants... then might as well help him through it, right??

now this is another dilemma

taehyung’s applied at a regular university in which everyone’s blended together and no one really cares about who’s who

it’s not exclusive to people like him.

he submitted his requirements and his portfolios by himself!!

and he got accepted!!

he’s nOT SURE if it’s purely because of his skills and himself and not his parents’ money nor influence

whatever it is, he doesn’t want to know because if it ends up being the answer he doesn’t want?? lol he’d crawl into a hole and mope for a week and would be doomed to wear three-piece suits for the rest of his life

so anyways

yeah..,, this is one of the handful of times that taehyung is completely willing to pay himself out

this project was supposed to be easy enough as what the professor said but uH he’d like to passive-aggressively decline pls and thank you

their final project was to make a portrait

right?? easy!!

a portrait of sOMEONE IN CAMPUS,,, regardless if you know them or not

(( well of course you’d get to know them by the end because yea they’re required to show proof that they indeed met and the model did agree to be painted ))

and by the end of the project, it’s either they keep it to themselves or give it to the model!!

that should be easy, right??

...

....

...... pls say right

oh my god tae should probably drop out now so he doesn’t get to do this

rich people don’t necessarily have to be educated, right???? maybe he’ll just settle into being a himbo

he learned about the meaning of the word through urban dictionary that he tHEN only learned about like six months ago and now he gets so many things

taehyung’s not intimidated by the workload of it all -- in fact, he’s even excited about it because it helps him relax!!

what he’s intimidated about is the fact that he’s kim taehyung and there are only two possible options

either his model would be someone who knows him and would be taking every possible step to ensure that they climb the social ladder through him and they’re not even gonna be dISCREET about it

his model wouldn’t completely care about who he is and in the process belittles him upfront and tbh his hart wouldn’t be able to take that and he’s probably wipe his tears away with dollar bills

there is almost no in-between, that one he’s sure of

so why are you like this?

why are you neither of the two and why are you sO kind and go against his expectations????

do you have an ulterior motive or something????

you who’s a biochem major and is actually another building away from his own

you who’s made the initiative that you become hIS model

you who actually oFFERED and almost begged to be a part of a project that would only be for tae’s benefit

... aha

that’s about -5 points from being a cool laid-back nonchalant gal

+10 for looking like someone who’s had a massively obsessive crush on him since day one and looking like you’d lay his life for him

no but lmao actually you just learned about taehyung in a magazine

you were bored at the dentist’s and scrolled through every possible outlet in your phone and it didn’t satiate you anymore!!! so how about reading a good ol’ magazine :D

then came taehyung

it was a whole issue dedicated to him and you were probably too dedicated into reading it that this time it was you telling the dentist to wait lol

that’s as far as you knew about him

and then you learned just some weeks ago that taehyung happens to study where you also study at and that was.,., inch resting

you never really saw him before around campus because it was too big and well maybe if you put in the effort, you’d actually find him

maybe you had a tiny lil admiration for kim taehyung just from one whole issue alone you read at the dentist’s or whatever

you’ve only known about this final project situation through changbin!!!

changbin, your neighbor at the apartment next to you, who’d crash over whenever his wifi feels the tiniest bit slow

yes you did spend a little more money to upgrade your internet situation (most times it’s the router who makes all the difference) because you were so tIRED of having things slow in the middle of researching for your projects in biochem)

no you will nOT have that <3

and of course changbin’s not having your that shitty wifi either so he pushed you to get that in the first place so he can use it too lmao

he’s told you just a couple of days ago about his final project and that maybe, just maybe, he’d make it into a move for this girl that he likes

nothing’s more romantic than pleading for someone to paint ur face right

and your grade and the decision to whether you’re gonna pass or flunk and graduate or retake are relying on you mostly

and in changbin’s case it’s also hIS heart on the line so yeah no pressure at all luv

“i kinda feel bad for rich kid kim, y’know?”

“what about taehyung???”

“eW do you have a crush on him??”

“addressing someone by their name equals to a crush??????”

your banters never stop because you’re as quick-witted as him and he both loves and hates it

he loves that omg someone can keep up with him and that way he gets challenged to always have the last say!!

he hates that oh god why is he friends with someone who reminds him of himself so much how is hE gonna deal with that??

sometimes he’ll purposely argue with you to fEEL something lmao

but there’s just something here that tells him you’re a little more interested now in this flow of conversation ever since rich kid kim was mentioned

“hm, nothing. i’m pretty sure he doesn’t have a model yet.”

he dodges you in the kitchen to look for peanut butter in your cupboard and oddly... you’re not berating him for decreasing your groceries....?

what does changbin mean by that? whAt model?? model as in taehyung doesn’t have the newest model of whatever car he wants? or maybe he has a model girlfriend and-

hold on wait wHAT

taehyung has a-

“m-model?”

he looks at you weirdly but you don’t even bat an eye when he gets ahold of your marshmallow spread so that he could make another one of his s’mores sandwiches

“uhhhh model as in he doesn’t have someone to paint for our project??”

is that what you wanted to hear or,.,

you and changbin share one (1) brain cell and it SHOWS

the two of you have to open your mouths, then close, then ponder, and then do that aGAIN until the both of you could finally grasp if you were in the same page

“oh cool!! i’ll be his model then!”

“yeah but did he ask”

“it’s gonna be easy!! i’ll just tag along with you to your building”

“yeah but did he aSK”

“we’re probably gonna hit it off instantly and then you’ll have to leech off from someone else for their wifi and food and every other necessity that you already have-”

“yeah but dID HE ASK????”

long-story short: no. taehyung most certainly did not ask you to be his model.

but here you are

saying that you came a long way is a bit of a stretch because taehyung mostly turns his head the other way around when you call out to him in public

progress is still progress :D

you’re eating lunch with him at the same table and this time you’re sat beside him!! when normally he’d just walk home to his apartment (lol that’s not allowed but you won’t be surprised to know that he has a free pass) and eat!!!

before that, taehyung would gLARE at you until you stop asking to sit with him in his table

yea he gets a bit lonely at time because jimin and hobi aren’t with him and hE’S the outcast but he won’t do anything about it,, just scroll through his phone while he eats and tune everyone out

you figured that maybe it’s changbin always linked with you in lunch because your schedules just matched up thAt perfectly like it does with tae’s

hee-hee so you might have elbowed him until he begrudgingly agreed to be tolerable, keep atleast four feet of distance from you, and not call tae rich kid kim

spoiler alert: taehyung doesn’t really care about whatever you do because doing those changes with changbin did nOT work at all

however

H O W E V E R

taehyung doesn’t know at all how you’ve wormed your way into his heart!!

what seem to be cold to you is his warmest he’s ever been in such a new environment and outside of his usual comfort bubbles!!!

it’s like you occasionally stealing the food from his plate when you have the same thing is the equivalent of h*lding h*nds with him

you putting your leg over his before he pushes it after five seconds mUST be the equivalent to marriage

wait he’s lying

taehyung does know how you’ve wormed your way to his heart

“hi! i’m y/n! :D”

ok u are a little bit sweaty and out of breath from doing all that fast-paced walking for the past ten minutes

your new shoes that you still need to break into further aren’t helping your situation in the slightest bit

honestly? this is all changbin’s fault <3

he unknowingly gave you the sign that you were looking for

if he says yeah five times with five minutes?? okay yeah you’re definitely looking for kim taehyung and offering yourself to become his model

you don’t wanna sound weird but you feel sorry for him and you wanna help him :((

he’s not helping you tho because he has long legs underneath those trousers and it looked like he wouldn’t budge at all not unless you jogged and stopped right in front of him

“hi! i’m y/n!! :D”

“...”

“.....”

tae’s a bit... perplexed

because who’s THIS entity and why are you standing in front of him

...

....

“bye y/n.”

he wants to exit from this situation because oh my god??

why r u like this

he didn’t ASK for your name!!

and he doesn’t even know you and giving him your name honestly won’t do anything and he doesn’t get what’s your motive and-

“oh c’mon!! you didn’t even shake my hand :((”

he feels even more lost as he tries to wrap his head around that uh.....

you uh.... you wanted a handshake??

.....

tae doesn’t even hide his annoyance because it’s clear as day!!!

he’s blatantly tilting his head at you rudely with a blank stare omg take the hint pLEASE

realizing it now you mAY have came on too strong to taehyung that looks confused as ever

“hi, i’m y/n.”

changbin’s by one of the lockers taking pics of you beaming at taehyung and him scowling down to show you later how dumb you look and how you shouldn’t do this at all

okay LISTEN

his personality trait is to immediately assume the worst out of every scenario possible and that way when something slightly less worse happens? that’s a win babie ;D

he became ur friend in the first place because you heard him yelling since he’s at the door right next to yours and you could hEAR him throwing things around as he cusses his laptop

yeah he cusses his laptop what about it??

if you close your eyes hard enough, you could hear him throw his router against the wall (you later learned that he was so close to finishing his digitalization but then his laptop decided to die) before punching the air

(( the friendship started when you knocked vERY gently and offered him to borrow your laptop even if you aren’t done with all your homework ))

((( changbin thought at first that u were such an organized and too-friendly social butterfly who’s a kiss-ass to everyone but now he thinks ur the coolest person ever and he treasures you more than life itself )))

although, taehyung’s a lot more vicious and closed-off and critical than changbin

he narrows his gaze at you as you introduce yourself for the second time before merely clicking his tongue

“ok cool”

is that uhm

is that IT good sir

“you’re not,” you’re dancing around your words and being careful to not let a pout grace your lips at the sheer lack of enthusiasm, “gonna introduce yourself to me??”

you got a reaction alright

taehyung sCOFFS and that’s the loudest he’s ever been with you in the span of two minutes

“you followed me for ten minutes just to tell me your name. kinda seems like you already know mine if you do that, no?”

this is why you took up biochem instead of law

how do the lawyers not break down???

why does phoenix wright make it seem SO easy?? especially when he’s spoken to in a confrontal tone???

oh god taehyung broke you already

not to be rude but uh what do you wANT

can you get it over already??

“o-oh! uhm i was wondering if i could uHm,” you sound ridiculous now that you think about it and this is perhaps one of the only times you feel embarrassed, “volunteer to be your model for your project?”

hmm

was that a wrong answer,,,

sHOULD YOU HAVE SAID THAT??

“are you in my class?”

taehyung asks and he’s finally said a sentence to you!!! omg

you’re quite shocked so he had to click his tongue to get you to answer

“no, actually!! i’m a biochem major and-...”

that’s all it takes before he hums and nods his head

and for some reason taehyung looks at you like you’re pREY

“are you a stalker?”

okay wait holy fuck wHAT

you know what

you took a sip from changbin’s coffee half an hour ago but why are you only choking on it nOW

you’re positively sputtering and now ur pressured bc tae thinks you’re a stalker!!! a damn stalker!!

“looked at you long enough. i don’t need a sketch artist and i could just-”

no no no pls no

this meeting is going downhill very quickly

“oh my god taehyung i’m nOT a stalker okay!!!”

that shuts him up because your voice is so firm and okAY then how do u explain this stalker smh ://

throughout the whole time you’re talking about changbin being an art major and also your neighbor and everything in between, tae has such a neutral expression that you feel so intimidated

“-and that’s what!! i’m not taking advantage of you or anything, if that’s what you’re thinking i guess? i swear!!”

he listened and well if he’s being honest,,, okay yea you did make sense and he does know changbin

“okay then. i’ll think about it.”

“are you gonna give me your number???”

it’s either you’re so forward or he’s just not used to being caught off-guard

WHICH FUCKING ONE

“what for?”

it’s been so long ever since someone asked taehyung for his number

usually in galas and any other socialite gatherings you could think of, everyone’s number would just be in your phone automatically and you won’t even rEMEMBER how it got there in the first place

better yet, it’s been so long since he went back to his usual routine lifestyle of being himself

his last gala was two weeks ago and tae had to keep looking at his phone to study pdfs and whatever clear pictures he can get of his reviewers back at home because he had a test tomorrow morning

“so you could text me where we’re gonna meet so you could paint me, silly!!”

okay wOAH there

“i didn’t even say that you’d be my model????”

“lol but you were thinking it huh”

that’s it

taehyung has nO choice but to paint you if he wants to finish this project and graduate and have something of a thicker paper to flaunt

it came as a shock to him that hE took your offer and he could only imagine its effect on you

not to brag but tae didn’t even have to sweat for a little because it’s yOU who came to him with this offer!! not him!!

tae lives in the classiest apartment here in uni and everyone probably knows that

much to his insistence that he doesn’t want anyone from uni going outside his apartment, he had to take an L and invite you over

he wouldn’t risk doing his work in any place else because he doesn’t want anyone thinking and getting the wrong idea!!

speaking of, he’s regretting it now because you seem to be too happy being in his space

you’re pointing around and being awed at every possible thing!!!

what??? is this ur first time seeing a rattan hanging chair :// or a massive couch?? or a canvas painting of something so beautiful?? all of that in what’s supposed to be a student’s one apartment??? christ y/n get yourself together

“so what do you want me to do?? where do i sit oR do i stand instead?? i’m gonna need you to know that-...”

“nothing.” taehyung deadpans before he gets his camera so he could get digital shots as well if ever he needs an extra touch when it comes to his final product

the gears in your head are going bRRR and you’re gonna have to ask him to elaborate but taehyung already sets the pace

“nothing. just be your rEALLY annoying self and pretend i’m not here.”

normally you don’t take his words to heart but this one just hits a little close to home bc it’s early in the morning and taehyung already finds you intolerable

“by pretend, do you mean-...”

“up to you. are you more annoying around me or no?”

how did he read your MIND

tae got the thoughts in your head word per word and you’re so amazed at that because fUcK you originally thought that he’s good at bluffing his way up

click!

it’s you smiling at him

no you’re beaming at him

and you’re in front of his morning-lit curtains and you’re against the light

the portrait itself is already visually appealing and satisfying and man the shadows!!! the value!!!! they’re so raw and dreamy and this is exactly his style!!!

it was just a one-take wonder as soon as he took a picture of you!!! and he may have you to hold that position if he needs the push!! he just needs to translate it to canvas with his own language and emotions and then he’s dONE!!

you’re a pain in the ass

you laugh and you move too much

taehyung had you to to revisit that pose and hold it and you wouldn’t stop giggling bc you were too proud that you did THAT!

you also ask too many things that even hE doesn’t have the answers to

how is he supposed to know if red string lovers exist when you went into a spiel just because you saw a red tube of paint???? and why is he saying his opinions on such trivial things when he has his final project to take care of???

and how is he supposed to know why YOU’RE here hanging out with him instead of finishing your own final project

jk maybe it’s the L word but you’re gonna subdue that as much as possible since taehyung looks like he’d leave you by yourself with any chance that he gets

and you even call him terms of endearment!!! nicknames!! pet names!! names that you’d call someone who’s familiar to you and you probably l*ve!!!

angel

that’s what you call him :))

“why do you call me that?”

“because you look like one”

“and how would yOU know what angels look like??”

“because if they were to exist then you’d probably look like one!!”

“but-”

“ok that’s one minute no more questions taehyung <3″

tae just provides you with all the conviction you need to take care of him without even knowing

not in a maternal type of instinct type of way, but rather in a sPECIAL someone type of way

you find yourself caring for him mOre than you ever could for any regular friend you have!!

you just throw a whole loaf of bread to changbin and call it a day

but for tae??? you go above and beyond!!

“did it ever hit you that rich kid kim never really introduced himself to you?”

oh right....

changbin points out one day and you could see where he was getting at

for some reason he always knew what was in your mind at any given time and sometimes it’s to your disadvantage

you seem to be growing on taehyung though!!

he tolerates you better now!!

sometimes he’ll find you loveable even

he likes having someone around and you’re the perfect contender

if he decides to not talk too much, then you fill up the white noise!!

if he wants you to shut up?? then yOU shut up but of course not without babbling for a little

he’s opened up but with some reservations

some reservations that you don’t mind but it’s normal that you feel sometimes left out, y’know??

because it’s been a good month since you and taehyung properly interacted but he still resents you as much if you think about it

“hey angel!!”

“what is it-...”

taehyung looks up from his meal that he’s been poking at his fork because this has to be the fourth time you call out to him

so he turns to look at you and-

uhm

there seems to be a misunderstanding

you weren’t calling HIM

you were calling out to some other guy that iSN’T him

that’s seungmin!!! omg you haven’t seen him in so long and he just happened to pass by your lunch table!!!

apparently he has something to talk to you about which is why you’re standing up and leaving tae all alone on the table

seungmin’s smile is adorable as always and he gets you in a pretty good mood!!

oh god

dear gOD

what is taehyung feeling in his chEST???

tae’s grip on his fork is starting to get pRETTY tight

and if he’s aware enough, his right eye’s twitching and he’s practically scoffing under his breath

why tf would you call him that

WHO is angel and why is it nOT him anymore????

what he’s feeling is just unexplainable and it tastes something like betrayal

“who’s he?”

he quizzes you as soon as you get back to your table and you don’t waver one bit because you know he’s been asking questions recently

“oh that’s just seungmin!! we were childhood friends then he just transferred here awhile-...”

there’s a bitter taste on his tongue and it shows up in his face and you’re not even paying attention to him!!

“really? thought i was him for a second.”

ok now that got you to stop eating

????

why is he acting weird

taehyung looks even more irked because you look sO oblivious right now

“do you call everyone angel?”

o-oh where is this going

“uhm-”

you’re not even finished and to be honest you’re quite lost and taehyung sCOFFS you to the next century

“‘course you do.”

taehyung angrily finishes his meal and you leave it at that because ok maybe he had a bad day?? and he’s just taking it out on you??

and well tae DOESN’T want you to leave it at that

he wants you to ASK him why he’s mad!!! he’s passive-aggressive and it’s getting unhealthy but he’d rather choke than have him spill whatever he’s feeling

the next few days, taehyung avoids you like his LIFE depended on it

you’re not really bothered by it because he has his days, but this one’s just getting out of control

“are you giving me a time-out or something??”

lmao what did u do now

you nudge him when you see him by changbin’s apartment to borrow an easel even though he’s already got it by his apartment

yeah he’s mad at you and he’s petty but maybe he wants to see you again

tae’s giving you silent treatment and you don’t even question him for it

you don’t bother!!

you’re letting him do whatever he wants as always and he dOESN’T like it anymore!!!

he feels like he’s gonna combust at any given time and you don’t give a shit and he feels like yOU should give a shit because you always do!!

you always hover and worry around him but wHY does he feel like you’re not doing it anymore??

why does he yEARN FOR YOU???

it’s quite an an early night for you

you love biochem but sometimes it kicks your ass and it makes you retch at the mention of all-nighters nowadays!! bc they used to be fun but now doing them because you nEED to?? no thx

you’re already in your pajamas and you’re all washed up!! what could changbin need from you at 9 in the evening??

there’s an urgent knocking on your door and you resist the need to groan because you were about to really knock yourself out!! you need to get back all the rest you’ve wasted over your own final project

is that-

“taehyung?”

the man in question is in his huge yellow hoodie that swallows him up every time and he looks positively spent

his hair’s shaggy and his eyes are glazed and there’s a pink tint to his cheeks :((

he’s holding a baby hydroflask in his hands and you’re pretty sure that’s alcohol in there lol

“don’t call me taehyung!!”

he immediately snaps and you’re lost as aLWAYS

did he really just walk all the way to your complex to snAp at you??

“i’m not taehyung,” he frowns deeply and that’s when you’re a bit more mesmerized, “i’m angel.”

is this what you think it is??

your no.1 deflection move is to laugH and you’re doing that rn

something about this whole situation tickles you funny and you’re not sure what to feel about it

“i like your bottle!! i should get one for myself!!”

he could see right through you though

he ignores your stOOpid statements and goes to hold your hands :((

“no, no. i’m your angel. i-i’m your taehyung, right??”

listen

taehyung is the most confusing being you know and he’s so emotionally constipated that he outperforms changbin but this one,,,

this just feels so different

he’s hugging you

he’s embracing you

he’s burrowing his face to your neck and you’d be lying if you said you didn’t ever imagine what this would feel like :(((

he positively 100% might be in love with you

and you positively 100% might be in love with him too

he’s fishing for your hand by your side to put in between your bodies as he shakes it and that’s because he doesn’t wanna let go of the hug

:((((

you’re melting and this what heaven must feel like :((((

“h-hi. name’s kim taehyung and i’m yours.”

#I SPENT A LOT OF TIME ON THIS PLS LEAVE FEEDBACK PLS AND THANK YOU :D #taehyung #kim taehyung #taehyung imagine #taehyung imagines #taehyung x reader #taehyung x y/n #taehyung drabble #taehyung drabbles #taehyung au #taehyung oneshot #bts taehyung #bts imagine #taehyung fic rec #taehyung fic recs #bts fic recs #kim taehyung imagine #requested drabbles

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yoonsshadow · 3 years

Text

ETERNAL - iv

➳ summary ; They have died so often that death has lost its meaning; hurt so regularly that pain has become inconsequential; lost so much that they hold each other to the light of the stars. They have nothing yet they have everything, as long as they have each other. And, after centuries, they now have her.

➳ pairing ; bts!ot7 x fem!reader

➳ genres ; The Old Guard au; fantasy, historical, action, romance, alternate universe

➳ themes ; angst, fluff, death

➳ warnings ; talk of death, ptsd/flashbacks, war zone, heavy violence, course language, panic attack

➳ word count ; 2k

➳ note ; Hello! I know that this chapter took a little longer to get out, and it is a little shorter than usual, but it’s because it takes a lot of time and research to make sure that I’m doing this story justice. That being said, I hope that you enjoy!! The journey for these eight have truly begun now, and boy, do they have a lot coming. :3

masterlist

For a while now, your life has been slipping between your fingers. Like a shadow passing through the night, every moment has melted through you, pooling at your feet until you’re slipping, falling, thrown to the ground. From the moment the first bullet was delivered through your skull, you have lost grip of your control; of the things you hold dearest to you.

Sitting here, surrounded by these seven men, that empty cavern in your chest aches just a little less. It hasn’t started to fill up yet⎯⎯might not for a very long while⎯⎯but the silence no longer echoes.

“It still feels weird to think about,” you say, soft voice carrying through the room with ease. They are all listening so carefully that you cannot meet any of their eyes. “That I died, I mean. I’ve had time to rationalise it, but my whole life has been spent thinking one way⎯⎯believing in life and death, mortality, the fragility and preciousness of living⎯⎯but now I’ve been killed multiple times, died naturally a handful more, and so it feels as though the whole world has been skewed and I’m yet to find my balance.”

Your fingers fiddle together in your lap, eyes downcast to the empty soup bowl on the coffee table.

“The story of how I died the first time is kind of a long one. I can’t tell you about the final moments without explaining everything that led up to it, but there are a few years of history to go through. So, if you want me to condense it…”

“We have all the time in the world,” Namjoon assures, and it could be a joke, a satirical remark regarding your current situations, but instead he speaks with the utmost care, as if he is afraid of any wrong word, any misstep. He is telling you that they are patient, that they don’t mind waiting, that they will listen to every word you say. For you.

And it warms that hole in your chest enough for you to meet his eyes⎯⎯all of their eyes⎯⎯and offer a small smile. Then you nod to yourself. This is a story you need to tell, no matter how painful the memories are.

“Two-and-a-half years ago,” you begin, “the Special Warfare Command uncovered the elaborate smuggling operation of North Korean forces. Untraceable men⎯⎯assumed Black-Ops⎯⎯would enter South Korea through other countries using fake documentation. It’s unclear how long they stayed, months or years, but they would eventually kidnap vulnerable children and smuggle them to North Korea via Mongolia and China.

“Unfortunately, it took years to trace the movements of these men to a point where we knew what they were doing and how they were doing it. The SWC eventually concluded that North Korea were kidnapping and training future sleeper agents and spies, and avoiding suspicion by hiding in the Gobi Desert. They had an entire base of operations on a grey-zone of the border between Mongolia and China, and managed to leave no traces of their movements.”

You need to take a deep gulp of air at this point. Up until now, you have merely stated facts; regurgitated information as you have been told. However, you know that everything from this point on will become personal. You try to think back on your years of conditioning in the army.

“It was at this point that my team was requested for the operation. The 707th Special Mission Group has hundreds of personnel, all within two assault companies, one support company, and one all-female company. There are many missions in which female operators are a better fit, this one included, and out of the female company, my team was chosen.

“When I was promoted to Captain, and at such a young age... All I felt was excitement. Excitement for such an honour, for the experiences ahead, for being able to lead my very own team. The women on my team worked so well, too. We had many successful missions, small and big, and we were ready for this operation. We were ready for Operation Fawn.”

The air in your lungs stutters as you exhale, and you try to swallow the lump in your throat. You’ve avoided thoughts of the thirteen women who had become your friends, your family, but now you are submerged in the memories. Both joyous and tragic.

A few of the men around you look as if they want to move forward, to comfort you, but they also know that it isn’t their place to do so. Not yet.

“The plan was relatively straight-forward. We had found the location of the children, and so it was our job to silently infiltrate the site. Remove all hostiles, retrieve the missing kids, bring them back safely. It wasn’t unlike other missions we had completed before, so we were confident that we could execute it without fail.”

Pulse pumping loudly in your ears, heart beating violently in your chest, you begin to see flashes of that night, playing before your eyes without your permission.

“Get down!” A bullet whirs through the air where your lieutenant’s head had just been, close enough to be able to hear it cutting through the air. “Shit,” you mumble to yourself, peeking around the corner of the collapsed wall for the rest of your team, “how the fuck are there so many of them?”

“Captain.” A voice cuts through the chaos, the intercom in your ear crackling to life. “They’re still pouring in - West entrance - all armed. There shouldn’t be this many men.”

You land shots on three oncoming men, their bodies falling to the ground, but they are quickly replaced by more on their way. You have to do something; you can’t allow your team⎯⎯or the children⎯⎯to die tonight.

While your lieutenant watches your back, you fiddle with the dial of your radio, changing to a different channel.

“Command, this is Dragon, do you copy?”

No response comes through, and you’re forced to move from the wall with your gun poised, firing shots at any unfamiliar figure you see.

“Command, this is Dragon, do you copy?!”

A grenade explodes a short distance away, shaking the ground and sending you stumbling.

“Command, this is Dragon, Operation Fawn has been compromised! I repeat, Operation Fawn has been compromised! Delta Team needs immediate backup, over a hundred hostiles, and counting!”

Either the commotion around you drowns out the voice in your ear, or you’ve yet again received no response. You are starting to get desperate.

“Jesus fuc⎯ we’re completely overwhelmed, Command! My team can only hold out for a little while longer, but these fuckers just keep pouring in! Something is wrong, there shouldn’t be this many of them, we can’t fucking⎯”

Somebody tackles you to the ground. Gunshots, shouts, dirt in your face, a hand on your throat. The man on top of you is heavy, but you’re able to roll him off of you and shoot him between the eyes.

The blood splatters across your goggles.

It’s all too much. There are men everywhere, and you can’t see any of your team members throughout the chaos. You can’t get through to your command centre. Everything that was supposed to be easy tonight has gone wrong. Something heavy, and dark⎯⎯something that feels a lot like doom and panic and we’re going to die⎯⎯lurks in your guts, but you can’t think about that right now. You have to find your girls, have to save these children, have to stay alive⎯

Your fist aches nearly as much as your thudding chest.

Images of death and violence fade away as you blink violently, flexing your fingers individually and then all together, mind still scrambled, still alert.

There are hands on your shoulders, solid and heavy and grounding, and a pair of soft eyes searching for yours. All eyes in the room are on you, but all you can focus on is Yoongi, who looks as if he knows, as if he understands.

And there is a fist-sized patch of red on his left cheekbone. God, your fist, his face, what have you done, oh god I’ve hurt him⎯

Cool air blows on the silent tears that stream down your cheeks, your bones trembling with adrenaline and fear and sorrow. He’s saying something, lips moving slowly, but the clouds in your head are muffling everything. His hands move to hold yours.

You recognise the movement of his lips as the words breathe, it’s okay, and you try your best to obey, but your throat has closed up, tight like the grip of that enemy soldier who had held you to the ground⎯

Yoongi brings one of your hands to his chest, pressing your fingers into him, and you faintly feel the thudding of a heartbeat against your palm. Then, he breathes in, slow and deep, and you follow.

In and out, one by one, Yoongi slowly guides you to breathe steadily once again, your chest growing less tight with each shaky gasp. The tears have stopped flowing, and your limbs have calmed into only a slight tremor, and the darkness in his eyes are captivating. You want to lean forward, let them swallow you whole, but you instead squeeze his hands in silent thanks.

“Let’s get you to bed,” he whispers, and you realise that your head has calmed down enough to take in your surroundings. All seven are watching you with a careful and guarded eye, but you find no pity. It brings you a sliver of relief.

Rather than replying, you merely nod your head and allow Yoongi to pull you up onto shaky legs. Exhaustion is already weighing you down, and all you want to do is escape your own mind.

They have been once before. You, asleep in the spare room, and them, huddled together on the lounges. They are worried about you, but they are also much more; the fear in your voice, the heartache in each memory, was familiar to them. As they watched you relive your trauma, they relived theirs as well.

“I’m sorry, I-” Namjoon’s words stutter out, unsure, unplanned, unlike the way he usually speaks. “This is my fault. I should’ve known- it was too early to- and maybe you wouldn’t have gotten hurt...”

“Hey, no.” Seokjin’s hands on Namjoon’s shoulders are as firm as his words, kind eyes seeking regretful ones. “Don’t blame yourself; this is nobody’s fault. She made her decision to tell us. Don’t take that away from her. And we all know that she couldn’t help that reflex. Yoongi’s been hit harder.”

“We didn’t even hear the rest of the story,” Jimin pouts, nibbling his lower lip between his teeth. “Like, how she died, how her team died, what happened to the mission.”

“We’ll have to be patient,” Yoongi sighs. His cheek is already blue and purple, and will probably be fully healed in an hour. “We know the fundamentals, anyway. A mission that was supposed to be clear-cut somehow got turned on its head. It cost her team’s lives.”

“How does something like that even happen?” Next to Jimin, Taehyung’s pout is not quite as full, but still full of the emotions he is trying to keep in. “It isn’t just her team that got hit, but the entire Special Warfare Command. This was a big operation, guys, so something like this should’ve been prevented.”

“Do you think…” Jeongguk is clutching a pillow close to his chest. “Do you think somebody from the inside betrayed them?” Six faces turn to look at him, shocked at the implication, shocked that it makes sense. “I mean, the information about the operation would have been top secret. North Korea has resources, sure, but they shouldn’t have known the when, where, and how of the mission. Somebody had to have turned.”

“Who would’ve done it?” Jimin’s question is not asking for an answer. He feels sick at the thought.

It is at this moment that Hoseok chooses to emerge from his deep silence. When he speaks, his voice is regretful. Knowing. “I think she knows exactly who did it.”

< prev - next >

tags: @leafyturtle, @loveyoongles, @paint-music-with-me, @barbikatherine, @itsmorgo1604, @calling-dips-on-j-hope, @veronawrites, @applepie1000, @yoonchrisgullwrites, @ally22042000, @ireallylikefoodandyoutube, @blglmgk01, @basicgukk, @softescapism, @sinceritythatcouldntbedelivered, @m1nt-3lla, @hunnayesblog, @rosycheekb, @hemmofluke, @the-bisaster

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ginkgomoon · 3 years

Text

Gavin’s Old Days Date- Analysis

I received an ask just then about this date and so I’m typing my heart away at 2 in the morning. It didn’t really fully sink in to how much of a good date Old Days was until some time had passed, with the way how I looked at Gavin back then different to how I saw him now. This date brought back so many emotions and memories- especially when it’s such a well-rounded story with various hidden meanings and references which enabled me to have something to analyse!

This date circulates around Gavin and MC’s high school history in the span of days Friday and Saturday- on that fateful day when Gavin wanted to give the letter, to the night he waited for her.

It also has a circular storyline structure, from when MC first dreams of Gavin that catalyses following events. But something we also have to note is that the whole entire time until the very last few minutes- MC is ‘dreaming’.

The turbulent flow of time and space stunned me, and countless doors opened before me one by one.

The memory fragments poured in, and those images reflecting me and Gavin flew past quickly.

He turned his back to me and walked away, his white shirt fluttering in the wind, almost engulfed by the increasingly denser mist.

I shouted his name aloud and ran desperately, wanting to catch up with him, but the corner of his shirt was like wind that couldn't be grasped, dispersing between my fingers.

His figure became increasingly blurred as he was farther and farther, finally disappearing completely in the narrow field of vision.

Standing in the void, I seemed to have lost all directions and motivation forward.

Until a gentle breeze with a familiar fragrance blew the fog away.

There seemed to be dazzling sunlight piercing through the clouds, and after the mist dissipated, a completely different space-time appeared before me…

This part of MC’s dream is like a metaphor for Gavin’s sudden leave. The mini fragments of her memories and the information that she knew now compared to back in high school come together to try to form some comprehensible picture in her mind, which in this case- her dream.

(Which probably was helped by the presence of Black Cabin with the ‘“doors”. But I could also argue that it wasn’t, because this isn’t supposed to be the first time MC enters Black Cabin. Then again, dates differ from the main storyline.)

But just like how MC is Gavin’s North Star, without him, even she is lost and directionless. They both need each other. As they are each others’ mystery, they are each others’ answers.

“This uniform and medals are my beliefs, with you guiding me in the direction forward.” -Go See Him

MC wants to reach out, not wanting Gavin to leave her, just like how he left seven years ago. Though even here, Gavin’s wind helps guide her forward- to meet him again in this time-space.

Dreams are still a big mystery to us. Some say it reveals our deepest desires and fears presented by our subconscious. By listening to it, we are able to guide our efforts in achieving and chasing what we truly desire whilst avoiding our fears. And if some dreams are based on truth, then it can easily foreshadow what we are about to encounter.

As MC finally settles in appearing at their old school of Loveland High, she sees Gavin.

Through the crowds, he seemed to be looking at the girl standing on the middle of the flag raising platform with a speech draft in her hands. Without realising, he crumpled the letter in his hand even more tightly.

The infamous letter.

Moments ago he saw me, he was so shocked that his pupils contracted slightly. He also slipped when he was about to jump down.

“Who are you?”

The shock in his eyes was now replaced by alertness and uncertainty.

Gavin clearly doesn’t know this MC- because in this time-space, she doesn’t really exist. As I said above, as dreams can be based on truth and our desires, MC feels like she could have done something to correct their relationship in this course of time. But at this stage between her and Gavin, she doesn’t know much about it because he never explicitly told her and she wants to know. This dream is a manifestation of that.

MC: “Excuse me, do you know MC? I am her cousin.”

MC also experiences being her own cousin such as in Time Subway’s Loveland High Noodle Bar and STF Drill Ground.

Gavin looked at me suspiciously for a long time, and finally nodded indifferently.

Gavin: “Oh, what do you want with her?”

MC: “How is she doing in school lately?”

Gavin: “I don’t know her that well.”

Gavin helps MC locate herself- her high school self- but when she looks back, he has already disappeared. She then overhears students talking about Gavin getting beaten up by a hundred people and becomes an investigator into his whereabouts.

The next part of the date isn’t from MC’s narration, which led me to believe that this really did happen in MC and Gavin’s own universe. The ‘truth’ of the dream.

*Beating up happening*

Random Kid Who Doesn’t Have Better Things To Do: “I heard that our school overlord is transferring to another school. Is that true? Since you are leaving, why can’t you be good?”

Gavin: “That’s none of your business!”

Random Kid Who Doesn’t Have Better Things To Do: “True, but after you leave, your beloved girl will no longer be under protection, right? Don’t worry I’ll take care of her for you. And I heard she’s our campus belle.”

Gavin (fiercely with an angry face): “What did you say?”

*More beating up*

MC’s POV begins.

Finally, I found the alley from memory.

Gavin: “You won’t get off so easily next time. Try getting near her and see what happens.”

Gavin leaves and even MC wasn’t fast enough to catch a wounded, bleeding Gavin. She racks her brains to try to figure out where he is, and finally comes to the piano room.

And BEHOLD- Gavin casually sitting on a ginkgo tree dressing his wounds.

Gavin (annoyed): “Why are you everywhere…”

MC: “Are you waiting for MC? She’s preparing for exams so she won’t be here today.”

Gavin: “...I wasn’t looking for her.”

Gavin reluctantly agrees to follow MC into the infirmary and she starts to help properly dress his wounds.

MC: “Are you not a close friend with MC?”

Gavin: “... I’ve just heard her name before. She’s got good grades and she’s very kind.”

MC: “Have you ever talked to her?”

Gavin: “Nope.”

MC: “Then how do you know she’s kind?”

Gavin: “Why should I answer your questions?”

He looked a little vexed, looking away with his ears turning red.

MC: “Sorry, I meant well. It’s just that she’s mentioned you to me. She says you’re not as bad as what people say you are. You helped carry her books and took her to the infirmary…”

Gavin: “I just happened to be around.”

MC: “Err, then you must happen to be around quite a lot.”

Gavin: “How do you know all of this?”

MC: “She tells me everything. We even look very similar don’t we?”

Gavin: “But you act differently.”

MC helps Gavin finish patching his wounds and Gavin is noted to be unwilling to stay with her.

MC: “I have one more thing to tell you. MC is a bit slow. She is not as good as you think, and will also be blinded by rumours…”

Gavin interrupts me coldly.

Gavin: “She’s a very nice person. What she thinks of me has nothing to do with anyone else. If you're here just to tell me these things, then I don't need to listen to you.”

Gavin grabbed his uniform, but a white object fell from his pocket to the floor.

It was a crumpled letter. Stained in blood.

I went to pick it up but the paper slipped out and I caught a glimpse of the contents by accident.

Gavin quickly picked up the letter and put it back without saying a word.

There was a flash of dismissal in his eyes. He tried to flatten the creases on the letter awkwardly.

(RIP LETTER. He even tried to flatten it. GAVINNN)

Gavin’s view remains the same in their own universe- “You can’t change other people’s opinions but you can change your attitude towards them. Don't let yourself be easily affected. You shouldn't envy me. You’re different from me. You're kind and thoughtful. That's what makes you, you. Besides, I’m not as free as you think, and I care about a lot of things.” -Company Footage [Chapter 3-7]

The scene around her changes. MC figures that if this is the memory of her and Gavin, then the most important thing was to find him.

MC’s mind fixates on the familiar bloody letter- recalling its words. MC then sprints to the school library.

The library looked a little deserted in the darkness. Looking along the rows of bookshelves, I finally found Gavin seated next to the window.

At this point, Gavin has been waiting a whole day for high school MC to meet him. She didn’t read the letter that had the time he wanted her to come.

He turned around and the moment he heard my footsteps, and the glimmer in his eyes suddenly died away again when he saw me.

I realised that on this day, he had wanted to say goodbye.

He just frowned and looked away, uninterested.

MC: “Are you waiting for MC? She might have misunderstood. Sorry, let me apologise for her.”

Gavin: “It has nothing to do with you.”

He paused and said in a self-mockery tone.

Gavin: “I knew she wouldn't come anyway.”

I’ve never seen Gavin like this. At this time, he was still so young and one could easily read his emotions.

Only then did I realise how he described his past as a mere “regret” was an understatement. He had to endure the long wait and the misery of being understood silently.

(It’s 2am and I’m crying.)

I mistook the farewell letter as a threat and threw it away. I never tried to learn the truth and misunderstood him. And still was protected and cherished by him.

I never felt so sorry and never wanted to blame myself even more.

If I didn't know all of this, if we had never met each other after we went in opposite directions…

MC: “Although I know saying these now is meaningless...You’ll be a very awesome person in the future, and you will stick to your belief and to justice. And you’ll also meet the person you want to meet. Even though she might not be great and always troubles you, you will definitely meet each other in the future. So…”

But when I looked back up, Gavin was gone.

As if back to the beginning of the dream, no matter how hard I tried, I couldn’t catch up or make a sound.

And MC wakes up. (Circular storyline- starts and end with a dream- starts and ends with Gavin.)

“Why did it take you so long to answer? Did you just wake up?”

It was Gavin.

MC: “Gavin… I….”

Gavin: “Why do you sound so weird?”

MC: “I had a dream about you.”

Gavin: “Was it a bad dream? Don’t worry, it won’t happen. By the way, I'll be at your place soon. I brought steamed buns and soybean milk for breakfast.”

Just like how he bought milk and bread for her at the infirmary after she fainted during a school sports event.

The moment I saw Gavin, I threw myself into his arms, crying.

His strong chest, the familiar smell under his collar. This was Gavin, the Gavin who would never disappear or leave me.

Gavin: “Why are you crying?”

He tried to dry my tears clumsily, but both his hands were occupied, so he had to move to the table and put the breakfast down while I hung onto him like a koala.

Gavin: “Tell me, what was your dream about?”

MC: “In my dream, you skipped class, got into fights, and ignored me.”

Gavin: “...”

MC: “You also said, ‘it’s none of your business’ to me coldly several times.”

He held back laughter and listened to my tearful complaint. Then he suddenly took my hand, and slapped it on his palm.

Gavin: “Then bully me back now.”

MC: “Gavin, have you ever thought about… what if we didn’t meet?”

He gave it some thought and nodded seriously.

Gavin: “Yes I have. If I wasn't there, would the girl get bullied? Would someone be looking out for her? I’ve also wondered if someone would fall in love with her or give her a love letter.... Would she like someone else? So, if I were to meet her again, I must hold onto her.”

He took my hand lightly, and kissed it preciously, his voice soft.

“And never let her go again.”

(The same hands that helped dress his wounds. CRYING.)

All this time Gavin had regretted not being able to give the letter to her in person, presumably with the fear of rejection from the one person he cared about. Even if Gavin hadn’t had a conversation with her or knew her very well, the interactions they have had together was enough for Gavin to form an opinion of her- a strong enough opinion that even he refuses to listen to MC’s ‘cousin’ (interactions like wanting to introduce himself in the library but MC dashes off LOL).

Wanting to protect her continuously from the students during the alleyway fight and waiting day and night for her also really does showcase his determination and the effectiveness of having a glimmer of hope from and for someone goes a long way, especially with a loyal man like Gavin.

Additionally, MC states that he was cold to her, which shows that even someone who claimed to be her cousin wouldn't melt Gavin’s heart with secondhand words. (That wall that he built up between him and MC of how he bats each question she asks with another question LOL.)

Even in front of Cousin MC, he wants to keep up that tough and unbreakable persona, the one that high school MC is more familiar with- until the very end when he finally has to come to the conclusion that MC is not going to see him. This therefore really does make him think that she didn't want to meet him. And in the storyline, he really did have to live like that, thinking that she thought of him just like how everyone did- until they met again.

But after all that Gavin had been through, he’s willing to cherish every moment he has with MC in the future. Not basing their relationship off of the failures, misunderstandings and regrets- but their hopes and dreams of a better future together.

“Before you… I lower all my defences.” -Gavin

#ITS 2 AM #ANALYSIS OH HOW IVE MISSED YOU #mlqc #mr love queens choice #love and producer #恋与制作人 #mlqc gavin #mlqc en #mlqc analysis

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hadtochangemyurlquick · 3 years

Text

here’s 7.1k of Toni pining and Shelby and Toni being childhood friends and also far more character analysis of Rachel than I was expecting? also Marcus is real and I made him a gorgeous himbo. it’s based off that poem by @theycallmedizzy and you can find it here. lmk if you want a second chapter from shelby’s perspective, tho i literally just finished this one. like literally ten minute ago.

Mr. Williams finishes reading the poem and looks over his spectacles at the class. Yes, they’re spectacles, those kind of tiny thick ones that make his eyes too big because he’s much too old to be teaching.

It’s eight am on a Tuesday, Toni walked the three miles to school because she missed the bus only to walk into her shitty honors English class and hear the teacher reading a poem aloud to the class. Her poem. She’d sat down after a momentary pause and listened to him read the final damning stanza.

And then he looks at Toni.

He reads her essays right? What if he recognizes her writing voice? Is that a thing? Or maybe her handwriting or—

“Toni, I was just explaining to the class that whoever wrote this should submit it to the state literature festival,” Mr. Williams says, Toni almost sags against her chair. “I was hoping someone would come forward,” He turns back to the class, eyes hovering over Quinn and Monty, two of the more sensitive guys who sit in the back and ruin the curve for everyone. “But I’ll leave it on the board here,” he clacks it on with a magnet and Toni flinches, “and hopefully someone will come forward. Now onto today’s lesson.”

After class Martha goes up to the board and takes a picture of it, her eyes a little starry at the words and Toni grits her teeth.

“You have to admit it’s pretty,” Martha says. “Even you can’t deny that.”

“It’s dumb,” Toni says flatly, crossing her arms.

“Well I’m keeping it anyway, maybe someday someone will write a poem about me,” Martha says.

“How do you know it’s not about you?” Shelby asks coming out of nowhere and uninvited too. Toni glares at her, letting her open disdain shine through like sunshine through clouds after a gully washer.

“No guys notice me,” Martha informs Shelby sadly. “I bet Andrew wrote it for you.”

Shelby purses her lips and looks over the poem, “I doubt it. He’s more of a doer, I think. Besides, I’m sure that guys notice you, you went on a date with that boy Sam last month.”

Martha sighs and before she can launch into what a disaster that date was, Toni tightens her hands around her backpack.

“I’ll see you in science,” She tells Martha and manages to escape Shelby’s eyes burning at the back of her neck.

———

reasons not to kiss her

1.) this sort of love is not allowed. you are both too soft, and the world around you is all knives and chipped teeth

Toni had played about every sport she was allowed to growing up. Basketball was her favorite, but she loved beat it ball, the game she made up with the other kids in the neighborhood. It was basketball but without rules, devolving into fist fights within the first half. Nothing tasted better than her own bloody lip on a hot summer day. Not even the cool glass of lemonade Mrs. Blackburn always had ready when she ran all skinned knees to Martha’s telling her about how she beat guys two years older than her.

She got angry when she had to stop playing, moving to a different neighborhood. Apparently, Mrs. Blackburn had figured out that she wasn’t only getting her split lip from the older kids in the neighborhood.

The new foster parents were a little stricter, a little richer, and signed her up for youth soccer when she complained about how there was nothing to do without beat it ball.

Martha Blackburn would always be her person, but Toni didn’t expect to find her people so young. Dottie killed as goalie, and Becca’s sweetness made her defense all the better. But it was Shelby and Toni who were the dynamic duo. Toni had a never ending amount of energy as a midfielder and Shelby’s precision made her the perfect striker. It worked the same way every game, Becca would kick it to Toni, who got it to Shelby, who scored a goal. It got to the point that Becca didn’t even need to do much and the coach had to pull Toni aside to tell her to pass to the other girls too.

At the end of the season they sat together at the team party, wearing orange slice smiles. With sticky fingers they held hands and Toni kinda wondered how someone’s eyes could be so green.

Toni doesn’t remember why Shelby’s parents were so angry about them holding hands, but she knows Mr. Goodkind talked to her foster parents and Toni was off to a different home, in a different district, and she lost even Martha for a few months.

———

At lunch everyone’s talking about that fucking poem. Martha sent it around to the whole school and Leah is discussing its merits with Rachel and Nora. Even they don’t seem bored with the topic, though Nora is sure Quinn didn’t write it.

“It could be Monty,” Leah says. “I wouldn’t have thought he had an eye for this stuff.”

“I don’t think it’s Monty,” Rachel says. She looks at Nora, “C’mon, you know what I’m talking about, right?”

“What?” Nora asks.

“I mean it smells like Anna Akhmatova had a baby with Adrienne Rich,” Rachel says.

“Who had a baby with who?” Martha asks.

“Please,” Fatin says. “You’re not exactly the world’s leading expert on free form poetry.”

“Uh, I know when something’s written by a girl,” Rachel says. “I bet you fifty bucks some closet case wrote this.”

Everyone looks at Toni. “You caught me,” Toni deadpans.

“Rachel’s right,” Nora says. “A girl definitely wrote this. Toni, do you know anyone?”

Toni glares at her. “I’ll shake the lesbian phone tree and see what comes out.”

“Well, could it be Regan?” Martha asks. “Maybe she wants to—”

“It’s not fucking Regan,” Toni grabs her books and stalks out, kicking a chair randomly strewn around away as she did.

She hears Shelby sit down just as she leaves, “What’s got her madder than a baptized cat?” Shelby asks and Toni rolls her eyes.

———

2.) no one ever taught you how to love. your war paint and scarred hands could never hold her like she deserves

The worst of it was that Shelby was gentle. Her hands were warm and soft around Toni’s callouses, and there was a crinkle between her eyebrows as she focused on Toni’s hands. No, the worst of it was that Shelby didn’t let go of Toni’s hands when she finished, kept holding onto them as she met Toni’s eyes.

“Well?”

Toni swallowed hard, “I’m not gonna apologize.”

Shelby sighed, her thumb traced little circles around Toni’s hands. “I know today ain’t easy for you.” Toni scoffed and looked away. “But you know you were pickin' a fight. Andrew promised to leave you alone.”

Toni ripped her hands away and jumped from the bench of the locker room. “What the fuck do you know? You weren’t fucking there.”

Shelby’s calm only made Toni’s anger redder, “You ain’t denying it.”

“Why the fuck are you dating him? He’s a self-satisfied little asshole who just wants a little trophy girlfriend to—”

“Toni,” Shelby cut her off sharply and got to her feet, meeting Toni’s eyes.

“You’re not denying that either,” Toni spat.

She could’ve screamed at the hypocrisy. She wanted to scream. She wanted to pound her fists against the walls and bleed all over the bandages Shelby wrapped around her knuckles. She wanted to hurt, to make Shelby hurt. She wanted everyone to see and feel how hurt she was, and hurt them with that hurt. Finally level the playing field.

“Andrew is my business,” Shelby said. “Not yours.”

“He becomes my business when you—”

“When I what?” Shelby asked.

Toni looked at her hands, “Never mind.”

Shelby sighed, “Martha’s helping you move in today, right? Shel’ll be there the whole time?”

“Don’t pretend you give a shit.”

“Of course I care. The last time you lived with your mom you didn’t eat for a week.”

“I was five, not fifteen,” Toni said. “And seriously, stop pretending you give a shit.”

She shoulder checked Shelby as she walked out and winced at the sound of Shelby hitting the gym lockers. Her hands still sting where Andrew’s teeth had scrapped them.

———

Regan approaches Toni during science, her eyes serious. Martha straightens, and Toni does her best not to make eye contact.

“It’s not mine,” Regan says.

“Yeah duh,” Toni mutters.

Regan frowns, “I just—I didn’t want you to—”

“You made it perfectly clear what you want,” Toni says.

Regan sighs and leaves and Toni regrets it.

“Shelby thinks it’s Marcus,” Martha tells her. Toni blinks up at her and Martha nods. “She thinks he wrote it for me.”

“Martha, that kid is dumber than a box of rocks,” Toni says.

Martha furrows her brow, “Maybe he has hidden depths.”

“If you think it’s him ask him out,” Toni says.

“Shelby thinks it’s him,” Martha is quick to correct. “But he doesn’t even know who I am.”

Toni rolls her eyes. Marcus had been in love with Martha since the ninth grade. They had gotten placed as lab partners and he literally didn’t take his eyes off her the entire time. Every time there was a dance he would always look like he was about to say something, shoot his shot, when Martha would loudly proclaim she couldn’t wait to go with her friends.

Toni would’ve pulled the guy aside and told him to grow a pair, but a guy who’s not brave enough to go after what he wants wasn’t good enough for her Marty, not by a long shot.

“Rachel still thinks a girl wrote it,” Martha says.

“Maybe Rachel wrote it,” Toni mutters.

Martha’s eyes light up.

———

3.) no one has ever loved you this full surely you would drown in it all

Being a lifeguard was the worst. It was super boring, the pay was shit, and also Toni would probably get someone killed. Like, they pretended she was CPR certified but she absolutely had no idea how to do it. She went to some hour long course, slept through it, took a test that was just: should you kill people? And then they wrote some bullshit on some papers about a three week long set of classes.

But Shelby was tanned and golden looking and on their shifts they’d text back and forth about which kids they were betting on to win sharks and minnows. Tweenage boys in all their adolescent infancy would gaze open mouthed at Shelby and Toni alike but Shelby was the only one who let them down gently. Toni would ruin them for girls forever with something enough to cut through even the thickest skin.

On the fourth of July the pool paid for fireworks and Toni found a blanket and Shelby found her and they sat watching the reflections of the lights together. Shelby rested her head on Toni’s shoulder, all gentle, like she was afraid Toni would spook.

“I know this ain’t much of a holiday for you,” Shelby said. “But thank you for spending it with me.”

She had her hand on the blanket, splayed out like she was waiting for Toni to take it, there in front of everyone. Toni imagined a world in which she did.

———

“Yeah it’s not me,” Rachel says. “I wish I could write that good.”

Which is such bullshit because Toni knows Rachel could say well if she wanted to. Rachel’s weird inferiority complex about Nora pisses off Toni to no end. Nora’s the smart one, Rachel will be the first to say, and Rachel’s the athletic one. But Nora has a six minute mile and Rachel has perfect pitch so Toni hates them both.

“Maybe it’s Dot,” Toni suggests and Rachel, Nora, and Martha snicker.

Out of all of them, Martha’s the best driver, but they always end up in Rachel’s car after school anyway.

“Most of the school seems to think it’s by Andrew,” Nora says. Toni’s fists clench.

“Yeah,” Rachel rolls her eyes, “I’m sure he would love to take the credit. C’mon Toni, you don’t know any lesbians who could’ve written this?”

“You’re a lesbian too,” Toni says. “You don’t know any?”

“I don’t have a life outside of the pool,” Rachel says, “and none of them have picked up a book since Hop on Pop.”

“Regan says it wasn’t her,” Martha cuts in helpfully. “But maybe it’s another kid in theatre. Shelby says—”

“Oh my god,” Toni grits out. “What is everyone’s deal with her anyway? Why is everyone still obsessed with her? She’s just another basic Jesus bitch.”

The car goes quiet and Toni wishes she could melt into her seat cushion.

“I didn’t mean that,” Toni says.

“Except you did,” Martha snaps.

Toni winces.

“What’s your deal with her?” Rachel asks. “You guys were fine last year.”

“Quinn says there’s a poetry club,” Nora says. “Maybe it’s someone there?”

No one takes the bait and they don’t talk the rest of the way.

———

4.) she belongs in a museum, and you are merely here to gaze. look around you, all the signs scream ‘do not touch’

“Shelby?”

Toni grabbed the shoulder of the girl and pulled her away from Marcus. Shelby was bruised lips and ruined make up and Toni took her by the hand. Thank god Martha wasn’t here, thank god Andrew wasn’t here, thank god Marcus looked just as trashed.

“Toni?” Shelby sorta stumbled, her ankle twisting painfully on her heel and Toni steadied her.

Shelby could do a cartwheel in six inch heels.

“I’m gonna get you home, okay?” Toni called over the music.

Shelby didn’t really respond, just leant into Toni as she led her away and outside. The party had spilled into the backyard and front yard some, the cops probably already on their way, but everyone was too fucking hammered to notice them making their way out.

Shelby’s house was only about a twenty minute walk but it was cold and Toni was only wearing her basketball shorts and her mom’s jacket that she promptly put over Shelby’s shoulders.

“Are you still—” Shelby swallowed hard, “You’re still living with your mom?”

“Mostly with Martha,” Toni said.

“Martha’s great,” Shelby said. “She’s so pretty it makes my eyes hurt.”

“One of our finest,” Toni grunted as Shelby nearly fell on her heels again.

“She could be a model,” Shelby told her. “We should get waffle house.”

“Shelbs, we’re nowhere near a waffle house.”

“What was Becca’s order? At waffle house?”

Toni sighed, looping an arm around her. “I dunno.”

“Neither do I,” Shelby said.

“I’m sorry, Shelby,” Toni said.

Shelby shook her head and stopped right there, circling her arms around Toni and pressing her into a hug. Toni closed her eyes, holding her back as tightly as she dared.

“Oh, Shelby, I’m so fucking sorry.”

———

“Day two!” Mr. Williams calls. He taps the poem again, “I will investigate the handwriting if the poet doesn’t come forward by Friday. I know it’s someone in one of my classes.”

His eyes narrow as he takes them all in and his eyes don’t linger on Toni. Not even for a moment.

There’s a part of her that wants to march up to the front of the room and write her name down, make eye contact with everyone who never even considered her before. But no one expects shit from her, and even if he does go over the handwriting he won’t really be able to pin it on her. He might not even bother checking to see if it matches.

Toni tries not to jump when Marcus takes the seat in front of her during quant lit. It’s not like they have assigned seating but everyone sticks to the same seats anyway. Marcus won’t get shit for it though, perks of being the quarterback.

“So, listen,” he scratches the back of his head and Toni rolls her eyes at him. “I know we aren’t really friends but I—um.”

“Marcus,” Toni says.

“I wanna ask Martha out,” Marcus rushes out. “She’s like the nicest, smartest, coolest girl in the school and like her eyes are out of this world radical.” Radical? “And I would take her somewhere nice like Olive Garden. Or Cheesecake Factory? And pay for it, and open all the doors for her, and I’d carry her books to class—”

“On your date? This is happening during school?” Toni asks.

His eyebrows furrow as he tries to connect the dots. Football players.

“Oh no! I meant like, after, if she wants me to,” He says. “Can I?”

“Can you what?”

“Can I ask her out?”

Toni blinks at him. “What?”

“My buddy said if you want to get with a girl you get close to the best friend first, and I figured I’d ask you for your blessing because that’s what they do in old fashioned stuff right?” He bounces up in down in his seat. “Can I? Or like, do you wanna give me your blessing?”

She feels like she’s having an aneurysm.

Listen, Marcus having feelings for Martha is one thing. Everyone on the planet who’s ever met Martha falls a little in love with her. That’s kinda just how she operates. Toni narrowly avoided that pitfall by being lucky enough to know her since she was five, but it was a tough time. But Marcus was never gonna act on it. Marcus can’t—he’s the quarterback.

It’s basic math, Marcus is a six foot five football player with shoulders wide enough to bench press the Subaru Forrester Toni’s legally required to buy when she turns thirty-two. He’s got that all American boy smile that shows of perfectly white teeth, and dark hair that sweeps in front of his eyes. His face looks like it was sculpted out of marble, like literally he looks like some sort of roman god, except if that roman god volunteered at the humane society on the weekends and called his mom Mami.

Martha is a res girl who’s best friend is the dyke with anger issues. And like yeah, she’s stupid pretty, but Marcus has exclusively dated varsity cheerleaders since the seventh grade.

So yeah, even if Marcus may have feelings for Marty, everyone fucking does, and there’s a host of reasons why she doesn’t have a date to every dance and a new guy every week. And most of them are the cliche high school movie hierarchy sort.

“It’s really none of my business, man,” she says.

“Dude, it’s totally your business,” Marcus says. He leans closer, “you two are like sisters right? What do I gotta do to prove I’m not gonna hurt her? I’ll do your math homework for a month, no two months.”

A thought occurs to Toni and it’s a terrible one. But when has that ever stopped her?

“You’re in my honors English class right?”

Marcus’s face screws in, “Uh, yeah. But I don’t think you want me doing your homework in there, I’m like totally failing.”

“I have a better idea.”

———

5.) she touches you like youre fragile, and if you break you wont be able put yourself together again

Dot was asleep which was Toni’s first indication that something was deeply wrong. The second was that Shelby wasn’t. She was definitely trying her darnedest, but Toni could tell she was awake. Awake in her arms.

Toni shifted, just enough to let Shelby know she was awake too. The movie was some horror flick, something dumb and flashy and almost muted it was so quiet. It was the only thing rated R that they could all agree on. Dot’s house was the only place they were allowed to watch anything rated R when they were still thirteen, so it was all they watched there.

She felt Shelby shift up, so her head rested on Toni’s chest, shifted until her lips met Toni’s clavicle.

Toni wondered if she’d die.

Shelby went up instead of down, pressing kisses up the length of Toni’s neck, soft barely there things that made Toni’s breath catch as she watched Dot snore on the couch next to them.

Toni’s hands moved to the inside of Shelby’s thighs and they stared there, tracing delicate patterns that only made Shelby curl closer.

“I think you’re probably the most beautiful girl I ever saw,” Shelby whispered.

“I—”

“I’m not done.”

Toni’s mouth clamped shut.

“I think about you all the time,” Shelby whispered. “Even when I—”

“Shelby,” Toni warned. Shelby pressed a kiss to the corner of her mouth.

“You’re right,” Shelby said.

Neither of them slept that night.

———

Toni walks into class three minutes late with Mr. Williams, and takes her seat with a sulk.

“He still won’t let me redo that paper,” Toni mutters to Martha who’s eyes are wide.

“Toni, Marcus just—” She nods her head at the poem where Mr. Williams is studying it too.

“Marcus Gonzales?” Mr. Williams asks.

Marcus gets to his feet.

“You wrote this?”

“Yessir.”

“This poem right here?”

“Yessir.”

Mr. Williams blinks and takes off his spectacles, setting them down on the desk. “We’ll talk after class. I should hope everyone has a copy of—”

“I wrote it for Martha,” Marcus doesn’t sit down and the entire class stares at him.

“—Franny and Zooey and I would like you all to turn to page 52. Begin by annotating—”

“Martha, can I take you out on a date?” Marcus asks.

“—this first section, and on to page 64. Remember what Seymour serves as in—”

Martha blushes hard and glances at Toni who smiles before she looks back at Marcus in all his golden boy 6’5” glory.

“Um, okay,” she mutters out and he grins.

“Cool.” Marcus finally sits and gives Toni a thumbs up. She rolls her eyes.

“—this story and compare that to his roles in the other parts of the work we’ve read.”

“I told you it was for you, girl,” Shelby says on Martha’s other side. “People always have a way of surprising you.”

———

6.) she is all bubblegum skies and chapped stick kisses, and you cannot watch the love run out of another persons eyes

They were all a little bit slap happy by the end of the night. A little bit drunk, a little bit high, and laughing far too hard at one another.

“I’m scared,” Shelby told them, still grinning wider than any pageant smile.

“Girl, you picked dare,” Fatin said.

“I did,” Shelby bit her lip. “But all y’all dared Leah to do was finish the vodka.”

“That was—that was bad vodka,” Leah slurred from her position on Dot’s lap.

“But now we’re out of vodka,” Martha sang. “You picked dare.”

“I’ll go with you,” Toni got to her feet, surprised when they were more steady than she assumed they’d be. “Two chairs right?”

“Alright,” Shelby said. “And you’ll hold my hand?”

“Sure princess,” Toni rolled her eyes.

It was an office supply place, probably. The parking lot had this killer decline, and it was one of those spring nights where nothing could really ruin anything. Not forever.

The rolling chairs were kinda gross, left there but not yet picked up by the garbage men. They had to do a special pickup for that, which costed extra. No one in the office had done it for the weeks the girls had been going there after parties.

“Be careful,” Nora urged.

“Don’t fall,” Rachel suggested.

“Hold on, I’m not recording yet,” Fatin said. “Okay now go.”

They pushed off in their rolling chairs, holding hands, and sped down the decline laughing as they barely managed to hold on and steer at the same time.

Toni went flying as she bumped into a patch of grass and for some reason, Shelby went flying with her, landing on top. Toni grunted, but she wasn’t in pain, not really.

They met eyes.

“Sorry,” Shelby said. She didn’t sound sorry.

“You okay?” Toni asked.

Shelby smiled, this real soft thing, Toni wondered what it’d taste like.

“Fuck yeah bitches! I’m so putting that on snapchat!” Fatin screamed and Shelby pulled away, turning white.

“God if this is you in in freshman year, I’m terrified of you as a senior,” Toni called back.

Shelby’s hand slipped out of her’s and Toni tried very very hard not to overthink it.

———

“So I’ve been thinking,” Leah said. Toni took her gym bag out of her locker, pretty much the only thing she kept in there.

“Oh no.”

“Rachel was right about that poem being written by a girl,” Leah continued. “Which meant Marcus lied. And Marcus would never do that unless someone gave him permission to take credit. And since Marcus lied so he could ask Martha out that means the person who wrote the poem wanted Martha to be happy.”

Toni swallowed hard and tried not to fumble with the lock, stumbling with it.

“Toni,” Leah walked over to her. “You need to face the facts: Shelby’s into you.”

Toni blinked, “What?”

“She wrote that whole poem for you, don’t tell me you don’t see it. It’s about you!”

“She—” Toni stopped and furrowed her brow, finally making eye contact with Leah, “You think she wrote that poem for me?”

Leah nodded, “And she let Marcus take the credit. Listen, I know I’m right. I’ve been thinking about it for ages. Whatever fight the two of you had—you need to get over it. She’s into you, Toni. She’s been into you.”

“You have no fucking idea what you’re talking about,” Toni told her. “Seriously, fuck you Leah and fuck off. This is none of your fucking business.”

“You aren’t denying it,” Leah crowed. “Shelby likes you.”

“No she fucking doesn’t!” Toni spat at her. “She fucking hates me! She didn’t write that poem Marcus did! For Martha!”

Leah’s brow furrowed, “But… but you wanted her to. Didn’t you?”

Toni looked away.

“Shelby’s actually straight, isn’t she?” Leah asked. “Fuck Toni.”

“I’m happy for Martha,” Toni said, and marched away.

———

7.) if you jump, she might catch you, and then youd have to watch as she tumbled through the dark

“What if we ran away?” Shelby asked, which was Toni’s third indication that the punch was spiked.

The first two were her arms wrapped around Toni’s waist, swaying in the soft breeze to the distant music of Junior prom.

“Oh yeah?” Toni asked. “Where’d we go?”

“Peru,” Shelby said. “Or LA, or New York or—” Shelby sort of trailed off, losing her thought halfway through it.

“Our parents,” Toni pointed out. She’d moved in with Martha a few months ago but her mom had taken it as a wakeup call, promising to get her shit back together as soon as she could. Toni couldn’t help but believe her, even if it put her in stasis.

“Right,” Shelby sounded cold, “Our parents.”

“Are things worse with them?” Toni asked.

“No,” Shelby said. “The same, really. They’ve lightened up since—since Becca. Have you heard from your mom?”

“Every week or so,” Toni said. “And if you ever need a break you know—“

“Martha is happy to have me,” Shelby finished.

Toni smiled and pulled away enough to meet Shelby’s eyes, her hands slid from behind Shelby’s neck to either side.

“Did I tell you you look beautiful tonight?” Toni asked.

“You did,” Shelby said.

“Can I say it again?”

“You can.”

“You look beautiful tonight.” Shelby closed her eyes and Toni tucked a lock of hair behind her ear. “You’re gonna get out, you know that right?”

Shelby nodded, leaning into Toni’s hand.

Later, Toni will learn that was one of two lies Shelby told that night.

———

Martha gets home at 11:30, exactly when Marcus promised, and Toni smiles as her sister collapses backwards into her bed.

“Toni,” she actually giggles, giggles like a little school girl. “It was amazing.”

“Where’d you go?” Toni asks.

“Olive Garden, I think he was trying to win points with you,” Martha says.

“As he should,” Toni nods.

“He was the perfect gentleman,” Martha swoons. She rolls onto her stomach and looks at Toni and oh god, Toni knows that look. “He did tell me something about you, though.”

“Oh yeah? How I’m better in quant lit than him?” Toni asks.

“He told me you wrote the poem,” she says.

Toni looks away, “Okay, and?”

“You told me you were over Regan,” Martha says.

“It’s complicated,” Toni decides. “And whatever. I wrote it awhile ago anyway.”

“Have you thought about submitting it to that contest Mr. Williams was talking about?” Martha asks.

“Can we go back to talking about your date with Prince Charming?” Toni says. Martha acquiesces, she’s too damn giddy to do anything else.

———

8.) her gaze is too gentle. you will not be the one to tell her that not everything can be fixed with a smile

“Toni,” Dot began, and Toni could tell she was looking at her. “Toni, is Shelby—is she gay?”

Toni snickered, “Dot, Shelby is possibly the biggest straight girl in our school. Maybe our state. She’d sooner give herself a buzzcut than she would ever even kiss a girl."

“Andrew said Shelby got a job as a counselor at this church camp—Guiding Light—in Plano,” Dot said. “I wanted to find the address so I could write to her and it’s a conversion camp.”

The breath left Toni’s body.

“What?”

“And I got to thinking,” Dot said. “About what a mess she was after Becca died this year. Ignoring us, going to all those parties, signing up for a crazy number of pageants. Hell, it was only once you two started talking that she talked to us again.”

“Stop it, Dot.”

“Toni is Shelby gay?”

“Dot,” Toni said.

“Because if she’s gay, if she’s not there as a camp counselor—Toni, did you know about this?”

“Of course not! Jesus!” Toni said. She jumped to her feet and started to pace, “Jesus Christ. Oh my god.”

“Toni is Shelby gay?”

Toni looked at Dot and Dot sighed, her entire body sagging.

“What do we do?” Toni asked.

Dot, her solid, steady, friend since fucking youth soccer was silent.

“Dot, what do we do?”

“Dot, what the fuck do we do?”

———

Shelby finds her before school, Toni smoking like she hasn’t since ninth grade when Bernice gave her a stern lecture about lung cancer. It made Toni cry, actually. Not because it was so stern but because Martha and Toni had been separated for three years and Bernice still cared enough to get angry with her. She promised then and there to stop, and each drag she took now makes her feel like she’s committing treason.

“Smokin’ kills,” Shelby tells her, like they didn’t all go to Dot’s dad’s funeral last year.

Toni takes another drag, just to watch Shelby roll her eyes.

“How’d Martha’s date go last night?” Shelby asks.

Toni glares, “Seriously? You avoid me all year and now you’re asking about Martha’s date?” Shelby looks away. “It went fine. Whatever.”

“I just—I was surprised Marcus wrote that poem is all.”

“You literally said multiple times you thought it was him,” Toni says.

“I know, I know but—”

“Still holding out hope for Andrew?” Toni sneers. “Marcus may not be the sharpest tool in the shed but he cares about Martha. Even a fucking idiot could write a half decent poem if they had someone worth writing about.”

Shelby meets her eyes and Toni’s breath catches.

“Know a lot about poetry, Toni?”

Fuck fuck fuck.

Toni flicks the only half used cigarette away. “I have to go to class,” She says, aware it’s just about the worst thing she can do.

Shelby doesn’t even need the last word, she’s aware she’s already won.

———

9.) she is so good. she is so good, and you cannot ruin one more good thing

It hadn’t been the first time Toni found her mom overdosed on the couch, but it’d been the most terrifying. Toni had waited in the school parking lot for a pick up for twenty minutes before Shelby had offered her a ride.

When they trooped inside, after having to use the key Tamera kept tucked away in a loose brick, her mom had been passed out on the couch. And the stupid thing had been that Toni had known her mom hadn’t been doing great. Like she’d known Tamera had lost her job, and was close to losing the car, that the pain in her back had been getting worse again from stress. Toni had known that.

But for some stupid, naive reason, Toni had never thought she’d pull this, go back to who she was.

Her tolerance was low, the doctors had told her, because she’d been clean for so long. She hadn’t realized it and had taken more than she could handle.

Shelby had taken the three of them to the hospital, helped carry Toni’s drooling mother into the ER, and held Toni’s hand until the other girls showed up, who she texted to come.

Shelby had been there when the police and social services came to talk to her about going back into foster care. Shelby had never left her side.

Toni couldn’t help but contrast that to the Shelby she saw now. The Shelby who showed up for senior year was barely christian, barely anything, just sort of blank and empty and waiting to grow up so she could have daughters that'd also wait to grow up so that they could have daughters that’d also wait to grow up so that they could have daughters that’d also

Shelby didn’t even look at her, for the first week of senior year she didn’t even look at Toni. She talked with Martha in that faux friendly way, she passed off on lunch invitations to do school work and Toni felt like she was going insane.

Sometimes she would just stare at the back of Shelby’s head in English class, writing whatever gibberish came to mind, and not listening to Mr. Williams at all. Just stare, for forty-five minutes, at a girl who wouldn’t even make eye contact, Toni’s pencil moving rapidly as she barely even glanced at the words her hands produced.

On the last day of the semester Toni finally looked away and came to two realizations:

a. Her mother was never getting better. Not really. b. Toni had written P E R U over forty times in her notebook.

As quietly as she could she tore the page out, and maybe about fifteen pages behind it, filled with similar drivel and recycled them at the end of class.

When the next semester started the seats were changed and something she’d written that she barely remembered was on the board.

Her mother was still in rehab.

———

Toni watches Marcus carry Martha’s backpack to class and watches as Martha giggles at him, argues with him. She is literally so happy it makes Toni’s heart burst.

“Shelby’s quite the matchmaker, huh?” Fatin asks.

Toni looks at her.

“Leah told me,” Fatin explains.

Toni rolls her eyes.

“Yeah, that’s what I said too,” Fatin says. “Leah’s good at noticing things but putting the pieces together is not her strong suit. So I called Dorothy.”

This makes Toni’s shoulders tense and Fatin wraps an arm around them.

“Dorothy didn’t want to talk but what she didn’t say was enough.” Fatin sighs, “I’m all for a little drama but this is cutting into my me time.”

“What going from twenty-four hours a day to twenty-three and a half?” Toni asks.

“God forbid,” Fatin nods sagely. “I didn’t know you could write.”

“I can’t.”

“Clearly not.”

Toni slips out from under her arm, and follows Martha into class. Mr. Williams glares as she comes in and Toni realizes if Marcus came clean to Martha he definitely came clean to Mr. Williams. At least the poem is off the board.

When he passes out papers from a recent essay her’s has a “see me after class” sticker that makes Toni slide down in her seat. Martha doesn’t even notice enough to give her an odd look because she and Shelby are yukking it up about the quarterback.

When everyone files out she hangs back and he looks at her, over his spectacles.

“I’m disappointed,” he says at last.

Toni scoffs.

“You write essays based off spark notes, you never participate, and half the time you don’t even do the homework. But you write this.” He slides the crumpled paper over his desk, her poem shining back at her. “So all I can conclude is that you’re lazy.”

Yeah, obviously.

“Why did you have Marcus tell everyone he wrote it?” Mr. Williams asks.

“So he could ask out Martha.”

“He didn’t need to have written the poem to do that,” Mr. Williams says.

“Can I go?” Toni asks.

“I want to submit this poem to a contest, I want you to start trying in this class, and this,” he hands her a slip of paper with about twenty sets of numbers on it, “is a list of Dickinson poems I want you to read by next week. Pick at least three to write me at least a page about. Single spaced.”

“What?” Toni asks, “You can’t make me do that.”

“I know half the kids in this class write off spark notes, I can easily have them all—including you—fail. So yes, yes I can actually.” He takes off his spectacles and Toni glares at him. “You’re a smart kid, Toni. You’ve got a talent for this.”

Toni shakes her head, “I’m a one hit wonder.”

“You know Britney Spears said the same thing after Baby One More Time.”

“That’s not true,” Toni says.

“Yeah,” Mr. Williams says. “Because she kept working at it.”

And Toni takes the slip of paper with the numbers on it, and marches to her next class and he watches her the whole way, not bothering to put on his stupid spectacles.

———

10.) you will not watch her crumble under the weight of your sins. she is too light, too breathless to be caught up in the dizziness of your heart

Dot didn’t invite them all to the funeral but they came anyway, even Shelby who Toni knew had been waffling back and forth.

Some of his army friends showed up, a doctor or two, and Mateo—the hot nurse Dot steadily ignored. It was a small and quiet service, and the seven of them sat towards the back, holding steady for her.

There was too much on Dot’s shoulders, there always had been, but she didn’t look any freer now that the burden was lifted. She just looked scared, small, and sad.

Toni couldn’t help but wonder if that was what she’d look like, if she got the call about her mom. It was a terribly selfish thought but who could blame her?

Shelby’s hands interlocked with hers, in broad daylight, and stayed there for the entire day. When Toni met her eyes she saw pure terror reflected back at her.

God, were they really only seventeen?

———

Rachel is complaining at lunch about owing Nora five bucks, how she was so sure some closet case wrote the poem but it’s no surprise Nora got it right.

Fatin and Leah don’t contribute and Martha probably wouldn’t have either except she was eating lunch with Marcus, they had found their own little table and were smiling at one another.

“They’re certainly cute together,” Shelby says, glancing back at Martha and Marcus.

“I say it’s weird they have the same name,” Rachel says.

“Says the girl who dated a guy named Raymond,” Nora says.

Rachel throws a straw wrapper at him, “That was a phase and you know it.”

“Marcus is sweet,” Shelby says. “If anyone deserves someone sweet it’s Martha.”

“Don’t you think he’s a little,” Leah trailed off and they all looked at her. “You know a little…”

“Spit it out, Leah,” Rachel says.

“Like the porch lights on but no one’s home?” Leah says.

“Martha is smart enough for the both of them,” Toni says. “And thank god because I was sick of doing his homework in quant lit.”

“That’s literally the easiest math class there is,” Fatin says and Toni shrugs.

“What’s that?” Shelby asks, pointing at the yellow slip sticking out of Toni’s binder.

“Some extra credit stuff, from Williams. Apparently I’m not doing so hot in that class,” Toni says.

Rachel leans way over from the other end of the table. “What is that, Dickinson?”

“It’s a list of numbers,” Shelby says. “Why would it be Dickinson?”

“All of Dickinson’s poems were numbered. It was only after she died that other people named them,” Nora says.

“And Nora said it so you know it’s true,” Rachel smirks.

“Join the fucking club,” Dot says to Toni. “I don’t know why y’all didn’t take non-honors English twelve with me. We just sit around and talk about whatever football game was on the most recently.”

“Well I’ve never liked football so.” Toni gets up, “I’ve gotta talk to my science teacher. I’ll see you guys after school.”

“I’ll go with you,” Shelby smiles and Toni clenches her jaw. “Ms. Roberts said I needed to rework my psych paper.”

“See you guys,” Rachel says and as they leave she’s arguing with Dot about why football is stupid and Toni can feel Fatin’s eyes on her all the way out.

———

reasons to kiss her

1.) she loves you, and her eyes are closed, and didnt your mother ever tell you not to leave a good thing waiting

Toni hated the magnet program kids at her middle school. Like everyone not in their cluster she found them annoying, rich, and privileged as fuck. They only hung out with each other and it was clear they’d never give—

———

“Toni?”

The stair well is empty, it’s the short cut through the language hallway and no one goes there during lunch.

Toni is working hard on ignoring Shelby but is forced to turn around when Shelby stops halfway up.

“Ms. Roberts doesn’t need me to rework my psych paper.”

Toni stares at her.

Shelby takes a step up, one step closer to Toni.

“I had hoped maybe you wrote it for Regan,” Shelby says.

“No such luck,” Toni croaks out.

“That’s a lot of reasons not to kiss someone,” Shelby says. “You’d think if you really shouldn’t kiss someone you’d only need the one.” She takes another step up, until they’re only separated by a few inches.

“I guess,” Toni says.

“Are you really gonna keep me waiting?” Shelby says.

Toni blinks, “You mean you still—”

“I have to do everything myself,” Shelby says.

She kisses her.

#did something different with time than i usually do #and with structure #lmk what you think #shoni #the wilds fanfic #the wilds #goodfoe fanfic #goodfoe #shelby goodkind #toni shalifoe #gus writes #ren don’t

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spencesglasses · 3 years

Text

sweet creature (spencer reid x f! reader) pt 5

a/n: to anyone still reading after 2 months of silence... here’s a new chapter. as always, ignore any errors and feedback is always appreciated. enjoy <3

part one | part four

The sun brought its wrath on Y/N’s skin as she lies on the red and white quilt blanket beneath her. She extends her hand to the edge, twisting the grass in between her fingers. Letting her hand linger to the patch of Zinnia flowers. She sits up on her forearms and crosses a leg over the other. Reds, pinks, and yellows bloom in the field, and Y/N stared in awe. A noise from her right causes her to jolt up from her spot, clenching her fists tightly. The wind coos in her ear, leaving the hair at the nape of her neck stand. She slowly brought her legs to her chest, resting her chin on her knee, and tries to calm her breath. It’s fine, she’ll be here any minute now, Y/N thought. She released her hold on her legs and let out an exasperated sigh, shifting to the lonely picnic basket that sat at the base of the blanket. She flipped the basket open and let her hand search until she felt the smooth cover of a book. Y/N smiled to herself, bringing it into her lap. She opens the book to find a stray note taped to the back of the cover. Meet me in a field of wildflowers where the sun falls in love with the earth and the moon falls in love with the stars, it read. Her fingers gently trace over the letters as she admired the note, trailing down to the signed “E”.

Y/N closed the book, tossing it to her side, and she felt the corners of her mouth rise when she saw the familiar strands of raven hair. “Hey, you.” Y/N said, holding out her hand for the girl to hold. “You finally made it.”

“Hey,” a voice takes her away from the memory. “Are you okay?”

Y/N looked up from the book that was splayed across her lap to meet the owner of the voice and locked eyes with Spencer from across the round table. She nodded softly, the tip of her finger ghosts over the letters of the cover. What was so special about this book? She turned over the cover just as she did years ago, to find the same mysterious note. Her eyes linger on the inscribed “E”, and she huffs in frustration. “Why can’t I remember you?” she mumbled.

“What was that?” JJ asked from beside her.

Y/N closed the book, setting it next to the case file in front of her. She moved her attention to JJ and shook her head. “Nothing.”

JJ and Spencer met eyes, then both looked at the book quizzically. JJ shrugged her shoulders when Spencer tilted his head in wonder. He glanced at Y/N, who was attentively listening to Garcia as she promptly showcased yet another case to solve.

“Last night, this girl, Gina Bryant, flagged down a police car in St. Louis,” Garcia said. “She was wearing nothing but a dirty nightgown, and she was barefoot. And she told them she was kidnapped when she was 8.”

“That girl’s gotta be 19 or 20 years old.” Morgan said.

“18,” Garcia corrected. “And they confirmed her identity. She was a foster kid who disappeared 10 years ago.”

Y/N shuffled through the photos the file contained. “She’s been in captivity this whole time?” she asked, looking up to Garcia, who was nodding her head.

“Long-term hostage. That’s rare. We got another Ariel Castro here?” said Rossi.

“Funny you say that. Not funny ha ha. Funny weird. She told the police that she was held captive with this girl,” she explained. “Sheila Woods, 15 years old, who disappeared from Nashville 7 years ago. Also, she said there was another girl, too, but all she knows about her is that her name is Violet and she was older.”

Y/N brought her eyes to the board of the missing girls from Garcia and bit the inside of her cheek. “You’ve checked the missing children’s database, correct?”

“Affirmative. There’s no Violet anywhere.”

“Did Gina say anything about her captor?” Spencer questioned.

“Just that his name was Tom, and he was an older white dude.”

JJ spoke up. “And where were they being held?”

“This house,” Garcia brought up a photo of the home to the screen. “Gina took the cops there. They brought Sheila to the hospital, very ill with something yet to be determined. Violet nowhere to be found.”

“It’s probably safe to assume that she’s with the unsub.” Hotch said.

Y/N nodded in agreement. “Who owns the house?”

“Oh! That’s where it gets even weirder. This woman, Clara Riggins,” she displayed a photo of the woman. “She’s MIA, but her checking account is active. She pays her bills on time, and if my math is correct, she’s 108 years old.”

“I might be going out on a limb here, but I’m gonna bet she had nothing to do with the kidnapping.”

“The real question is, where’s the unsub and this other girl Violet?” Morgan says.

“That’s what we’re going to find out. Lewis is on a research assignment. Wheels up in 30.” Hotch finalized . He gathered his file and promptly made his way out of the room, leaving the team to follow his lead.

Y/N stood from her seat, gathering her own file and the book that sat by its side. Her feet swiftly brought her to her desk in the bullpen and she opened one of the many draws in search of her go bag. Double checking if she had everything prepared for the trip, she carefully tucked her book between a few belongings, but noticed something peculiar peeking out of it. Y/N furrowed her brows. Never did she notice this. She had found the book a few days ago while searching through her closet for an extra jacket for Garcia. Instead, she found a box labeled with an unfamiliar date. In it, she found the book. It seemed familiar, but she couldn’t pinpoint exactly why. Y/N didn’t think much about it until she’s noticed the the note. The signed note. Why couldn’t she remember anything? And why can’t she remember who “E” is?

She groaned, slipping the item that was nestled between the pages into her fingers. And to her surprise, it was a photo. A photo of her and… the photo was torn in half. Someone else was in the photo, but who? Perhaps it was this “E” person. Though her memory was hazy, she could recall very little of the note and the book itself. She remembered this girl. That must be E, she thought. But who exactly is she, and why can’t I remember her face?

Y/N’s thoughts were cut short when she felt a hand grasp at her waist. Her eyes widened in surprise, and she quickly spins on her heel to face the person behind her.

“Woah, there!” JJ exclaimed, placing her other hand to Y/N’s waist to steady her. “You alright?”

Y/N visibly relaxed, letting out an exhale. “All good,” She placed her hand atop JJ’s and offered her a small smile. “Just surprised me, that's all.”

JJ quirked up a brow, and her eyes trailed over Y/N’s features. “I’ve been calling out to you… you didn’t hear me?”

Y/N inwardly frowned. “Guess not,”

“Are you sure you’re alright?” JJ brought her hand up to Y/N’s face, cupping her jaw.

Y/N covered JJ’s hand with hers once again. This is what made her feel more at home when joining the team. Before she had joined, she had known about the team. Spencer would mention them every now and then when he would stop by to visit her at the shop. He would tell her various stories about the cases they’ve solved, about the people they’ve, along with stories about each member of the team. And she admired them. They were like a little family and at first, Y/N was scared to intrude. She pat JJ’s hand, giving her a tight-lipped smile. “I’m fine, Jayge,” she took JJ’s hands in her own. “Now, we have people to save, don’t we?”

Y/N released her hold on her hand, grabbing hold of her bag. She looked over the bullpen and noticed Spencer awkwardly standing over his desk with his go bag halfway off his shoulder, and a smile formed. She took a step forward, turning to JJ, and offered her arm for her to take. “Join me.” Y/N said.

JJ linked her arm with hers, letting Y/N lead the way to Spencer’s desk, and his head perked up when he saw her. “Y/N…”

“Hey, you,” she held out her arm just as she did to JJ. “You ready to go?”

To Y/N’s surprise, Spencer grasped her hand in his instead. She glanced over to JJ, and she looked as shocked as she was as her eyes went back and forth between the pair and their locked hands. Y/N’s heart sped up a bit when she felt Spencer squeeze at her hand. She had grown used to the feeling of his hand in hers. Every once in a while, they would grab hold of each other's hands if something in a case hit too close to home. It was a comfort for them, though it was something that went unspoken. But each time, she would feel her heart speed up ever so slightly. She shook her head and gave Spencer’s hand a light squeeze back.

Morgan, Rossi, and Y/N walked in silence as they surveyed the basement of the home. Y/N’s eyes wander over the room, noticing various arts and crafts that littered the murky walls and blankets and stuffed animals that sat on the abandoned mattresses. She took a step closer to one mattresses when she saw a deep red peeking out from underneath a blanket. Nudging Rossi with her shoulder, she gestured down to the atrocity. He lifted the blanket with his gloved hand, uncovering a large patch of dried blood. The two glanced up at each other and shook their heads, continuing on after Morgan.

They parted ways to investigate different areas of the house, and Y/N found herself in a bedroom. It was tidy, the bed perfectly made, and not a speck of dust in sight. She opened the draws of the dresser, noting the clothes that were neatly folded. Y/N heard footsteps enter the room, and she looked over her shoulder to see Morgan opening the doors of the closet. Just as she had expected. The closet was just as neat and orderly as the rest of the room.

“Look what I found in the kitchen,” Rossi’s voice broke the silence as stepped into the room. He sat the box he held on the bed and Morgan stood beside him.

“Bondage and torture porn.” he reported.

“Also found another tool box in there, that makes three.”

“Well, you saw that guy's woodwork. He’s obviously good with his hands.”

“He must be a carpenter. Maybe a handyman of some sort, but,” Y/N said, keeping her eyes fixed on the closet. “Look at this.”

She beckoned the two to peer inside the closet. “He must have OCD. The closet, the clothes, even the bed… perfectly organized.”

“He wants total control over every aspect of his life.” Rossi stated.

“Makes sense for a sadist.”

“He’s not gonna like it on the run,” Morgan said. “He’s gonna feel powerless.’

Rossi spoke. “And that’s why he took Violet with him. Sheila Woods was probably too sick to travel.”

“You know, Violet was the oldest and helped with the abductions. She was probably his first victim.”

“Perhaps. Or maybe his daughter?”

“Well, either way, she was important to him.”

“You know. I also wonder, what happened to Clara Riggins?” Rossi asked, rounding the bed.

Morgan answered. “The bedroom down the hall is untouched. Looks like it’s been that way for a while.”

Y/N walked around the bed, to the door frame, and peeked her head to briefly view the rest of the house. “He looked after the house. It’s well cared for. Maybe that’s how he found this place,” she turned on her heel to face the two men. “Elderly woman, no family. She must’ve hired someone to fix things now and then. She thought he was a nice guy, does good work, and they build a relationship,”

“You think he took advantage of Clara Riggins?”

“That’s what it seems like. Though he doesn’t profile as a killer, I think he made a spot in her life and waited until she died.”

“And he made sure that she came to depend on him for survival. Just like his victims.”

The three of them hurried to the location the unsub��s vehicle was spotted. Y/N sat in the back seat of the van, fastening the FBI vest over her torso. Morgan and Rossi occupied the driver’s and the passenger’s seat. Police cars trailed behind them as they came to a stop and they hurriedly made their way out of the car. Y/N pulled her gun from her holster that sat at her hip and stealthy surveyed the blue van as Morgan ventured to the driver’s side. “Michael Clark Thompson, FBI!” Morgan’s voice booms when he approaches the man. “Show me your hands! Show me your hands! Now very slowly use your right hand to open the driver’s side door. Slowly.”

Y/N and Rossi stayed outside the back of the van with their guns pointed forward. A small voice of a woman was heard, and Y/N gestured for the surrounding officers to be prepared to open the car doors. “Get out the van nice and slow. Keep your hands where I can see them.” Morgan ordered.

She heard Morgan groan in frustration, along with a figure whizzing past him. “Ah, you gotta be kidding me. This guy!” he quickly took off after him and with that, Y/N signaled the police officers to open the back of the van.

She stepped quickly, looking over the inside of the van, and locked eyes with a girl. With her knees to her chest, she scurried backward in fright, heaving with each breath. Y/N returned her gun to her holster and extended her arm towards her. “It’s okay, It’s alright,” she cooed. “We got you.”

“Nothing to hide, my ass. He’s full of it.” Rossi scoffed as Hotch informed the team about Thompson’s defence claims. The team occupied the sitting space of the hospital the girls were admitted to, along with Thompson, who was kept contained in a spare room. According to Hotch, Thompson “saved” the girls from their parents and claimed that he had nothing to hide when it came to Clara Higgins. The entire ordeal made Y/N’s blood boil. The man was a pig, and he deserved to rot for his crimes.

“The preliminary M.E. report does suggest that Clara Riggins died of natural causes.” Spencer said.

“I think he’s telling the truth about that. He didn’t kill her.”

Y/N moved from her spot next to JJ and settled on the empty seat next to Spencer. She snuck a glance his way, noticing the wrinkle in between his brows from them being furrowed. She thought it was cute, not that she would ever tell him that, of course. Y/N scrunched her nose and nudged him, signaling for him to pass her to M.E. reports.

“I’m sorry, guys. I can’t stop thinking about Violet,” says JJ. “She could not wait to get out of here. Like, it was urgent. It’s all she could talk about.”

“Well, she’d been held captive most of her life. All this has to be a tremendous shock.” Rossi said.

“No question about that, but that wasn’t it. It’s like she had somewhere specific in mind and she needed Thompson to go with her.”

“Well, he’s conditioned her to depend on him for everything.” Hotch said curtly.

“Exactly. You condition someone by doing something over and over again. Now, we know he repeatedly abused them. I don’t think she was itching to get out of here to go do that.”

Y/N flipped over the documents absentmindedly and tossed her leg over the other. “Perhaps he did something to reward her somehow,” she starts. “What if she has a child? Where else would she want to go so badly…”

JJ gave her a nod of agreement. “Sheila Woods did have a miscarriage. Maybe Violet brought one to term.”

“We did profile that he might be trying to fill some kind of void since he didn’t have a family.” said Spencer.

“Yeah, but Gina Bryant never mentioned any baby.” Rossi pointed out.”

“Violet could have had the baby before Gina was abducted. Gina wouldn’t even know about it.”

“Well, if we’re right about any of this, that means there’s another kid somewhere out there.”

Y/N walked behind Rossi and Hotch as they led Thompson to the room Violet occupied. Passing through the halls of the building, seeing the parents of these girls, made her heart break for them. For Violet’s parents, most of all. They’ve spent so many years mourning the loss, just for this sick man to step in and claim their girl as his own. Y/N clenched her jaw tightly, picking up her steps to meet their destination.

“Daddy,” Violet says with a smile.

“Hi, Vi.” Thompson replied.

The interaction made Y/N’s stomach churn, and she let out a deep exhale. “Have a seat,” she spat.

“No, I want to be close to her.”

“Not part of the deal,”

The man turned to her with a deep frown on his face. “Then give us some privacy.”

“No,” she deadpanned. “Sit.”

Hotch pulled out a chair behind Thompson and he reluctantly claimed his spot. Violet’s eyes darted between the agents and the man, gasping when she noticed his arm sling. “You’re hurt…”

“Don’t worry about that. It’s nothing.”

Violet fiddled with her fingers, trying to settle her breaths. “I’m really sorry?”

“About what?” he asked.

“My sisters,” she answered, afraid to meet his eyes. “I had to tell them. Please don’t be mad. I had to…”

“Now, listen, it’s alright, Vi. Okay? It really is okay.” he said sincerely.

“Did you get the groceries yet?” she asked him.

The question made the agent’s ears perk up.

“No, honey,” Thompson says. “I’ve been here the whole time just like you.”

“But can we go now?” she urged.

“I have some bad news,” he lamented. “We- We can’t go there ever again.”

“What? We have to go today! It’s by the disappearing place, we can be fast.”

“You’re right, Violet, but I can’t. These police,” he said, nodding towards the agents. “They don’t think we should be together. They’re going to break apart our family, just like I told you they would. I just wanted to come and say goodbye before they took me away.”

“No! Wait. When will you be back?!”

“Not for a very long time. I would give you a hug goodbye, but they won’t let me.”

“No! I- Please…” she pleaded, inching closer to the edge of the bed. “Please, can I just hug him?”

Y/N shared a look with Hotch, and he gave her a curt nod. She arched a brow at him, brining her attention back to the pair. “Okay.” she said.

She grimaced and looked away as the two embraced. Y/N felt bad for this girl. All the awful things she had to endure… at the hands of someone who claimed to care for her? This poor girl was so stuck in their ways.

“Oh, Violet, I’m gonna miss you,” he whispered in her ear. “I’m gonna miss you.”

He placed a kiss to her cheek as he pulled away, his hand cupping her face in affection. “My beautiful Violet.”

Y/N’s attention shifted back to them when she heard Violet’s footsteps. She was backing away from him… she must have remembered something. Rossi gestured for JJ to bring in the girl’s parents from outside of the room.

“What is- What is this? Who are these people?!” Thompson demanded when he saw the couple.

“These are her parents,” Y/N said sternly.

“And that gentleman right there is her real daddy.” Rossi continued.

“Huh? She knows who her real daddy is. Daddy is the only one who loves you. Isn’t that right, Violet?”

The girl sat there in a silent war with herself. Her eyes flicker between the couple and Thompson for a moment, her face scrunching up in displeasure. “No… my name… is... Amelia.”

“Amelia…” she repeated. “Amelia. Amelia!” The man’s face paled, and he stiffened in posture before she charged at him. Her fists hit his chest in a fit of rage, and the man was trapped between Amelia and the wall. The agents made haste. Hotch and Rossi were on either side of Thompson, and JJ and Y/N wrapped their arms around Amelia’s waist in efforts to pull her back.

“Get off of me!” he shouted.

But regardless of the agent's restraints, Amelia was feverish in her movements. Y/N couldn’t blame her. He was going to get exactly what he deserved. “My name is Amelia!”

Her and JJ were able to pry her off of him and Hotch and Rossi escorted him out of the room. “There is no deal! You hear me?! There’s no deal!”

Y/N wrapped her arm around Amelia’s shoulders and rubbed languid circles as she tried to steady her breath. “You’re okay… you’re okay,” she soothed.

The case came to a close, and the four girls were saved. All was well, with the exception of the situation with Thompson. He was brought to his demise when the mother of Sheila Woods shot him. Y/N thought he deserved it. If she were to be honest, she probably would have done the same if she were in her shoes.

Now, Y/n found herself snuggled on the couch of the jet with the same book from earlier that day in her lap. Though the case took her mind off the note, the lack of familiarity was making her frustrated. Not to mention the memory… her mind was hazy, but she couldn’t let it go. Why was this so important to her?

A new weight at the end of the couch made the cushions dip, and Y/N caught Spencer lazily fumbling with a small blanket. The dark circles under his eyes didn’t go unnoticed by her. She watched as he hopelessly tried to make himself comfortable in the small proximity.

“Spencer…” she finally called out to him.

He turns his gaze to her and hums in response. Y/N turned her body to dangle her legs over the couch, placing the pillow on top of her thighs. She tapped the pillow on her lap as an invitation. “Sleep, Spence,”

Spencer hesitated, his eyes flickering between the pillow and her eyes. “It’s fine,” she says. “Consider it as an apology for making you sleep on the floor.”

Spencer smiles and shuffles to his side, resting his head on the soft pillow. “Of course,”

Y/N mirrored his smile, holding in a snicker. The two sat in comfortable silence for a moment, and Spencer’s eyes fluttered shut. “You still owe me another movie night,” he whispered, not bothering to open his eyes. “You know… as an apology.”

She looked down to her lap and saw the corners of his lips curl upwards. “Why, of course,” Y/N poked his cheek. “But now, you need to rest.”

He nodded, nuzzling further into the pillow. The sound of Spencer’s soft snores reached her ears, and Y/N closed her own eyes. She draped her arm over his form and let her head lull back, allowing herself to be engulfed by sleep.

a/n: honestly i never intended to ship y/n and jj, but look at me. shipping y/n and jj.

taglist: @measure-in-pain @ceeellewrites @eevee0722

#spencer reid x reader #spencer reid imagine #spencer reid #criminal minds imagine #criminal minds #spencer reid x you #spencer reid fanfic #matthew gray gubler #matthew gray gubler x reader

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kalimagik · 4 years

Text

Not A Movie...Right?

Harry Potter x Reader

Word Count: ~7,400

Warnings: Some cursing, mentions of sex, but that’s the only time the word is used....

A/N: Soooo, here’s a fic I wrote that isn’t based on a song! (Look at me trying to expand!) It’s got angst, tears, strong women standing by each other, oblivious Harry, and then fluff at the end cuz I love me a good happy ending... If you enjoy it, like, reblog, comment, or follow! You can also send me a message if there is something you’d like to see me post! still new on here, so I’m open to pretty much everything! Happy reading <3<3

*not my GIF - credit to owner

The corridors were empty, the classrooms were quiet, and the students were busying themselves outside, well most of the students. Y/N dragged her feet down the hallways, avoiding the windows, she didn’t want to be seen by the other students. Why be lost in conversation when she was lost in the thoughts that had been consuming her brain?

Had she made a mistake? Was it stupid to get everything off of her chest? It had been four years after all, right? It was okay to feel these things. She’d hid them for as long as possible, she tried to at least. Maybe she shouldn’t have told him, but maybe he shouldn’t have kissed her after the quidditch match. Didn’t he know that would completely scramble her brain? He knew her! At least, she thought he knew her.

“Y/N? What are you doing?” Hermione called from a little bit ahead.

Y/N looked up for her eyes to meet her best friends’ right away. The brunette knew something was wrong, she’d barely seen Y/N in the last week.

“We’ve been outside all day. It’s so nice and you told Ron that you were going to meet us out there. I didn’t even see you this morning. What’s going on?” she prodded, knowing that there was something more happening with her friend.

Y/N couldn’t look at her. She knew that tears would start rolling down her face the moment she did. Yes, Y/N normally told Hermione everything, but she hadn’t told her about this yet and she’d been dealing with it all herself. So, maybe she should tell her?

“Y/N/N…Please talk to me!” Hermione’s voice begged. Y/N finally looked up to see the concern in her friend’s face. “Oh common!” Hermione rushed to Y/N and pulled her hand until they were at the Gryffindor Common Room and climbing the stairs to their shared dorm room. Of course it was empty, everyone was enjoying one of the few nice days that Hogwarts saw.

Once in the comfort of her own room, Y/N started to sob. How did she start to explain what had happened? Before she had to, Hermione spoke up.

“Y/N/N. I know this has something to do with Harry. You never act like this. You’ve been up early for breakfast every morning and leave by the time I get down there with the boys. Sometimes Ron gets there early enough to see you, but then you leave before he can have a full conversation. You don’t speak during lessons and you’ve been sitting in different seats. Y/N/N, you sat with the SLYTHERINS the other day! You’re obviously avoiding him!”

Y/N just looked down at her hands that were folded in her lap.

“What happened? Please? You normally tell me this stuff. We’ve talked about all of your other boys before. I know that you like him. You may have not told me, but I am observant. I did notice. Just talk to me!”

Taking a deep breath before she started talking, Y/N began the story.

“It has been going on all year, ‘Mione. Remember when we first got back to school and we had that huge party after quidditch tryouts? Well, Harry and I just went and got some air. We were talking like we always do. You guys became my best friends in our second year, so it was easy. And it was probably the fire whiskey, but Harry started talking about how great I was. He was all of course I’ve had a crush on you before! You’re exactly my type and fun and cute. And I just sat there listening and thinking. And it was just nice to hear, but then I realized something. I could have always fallen for Harry so easily, but I always kept myself from doing it. I didn’t want to because I knew it would be too big for me. But, he, he opened the gates. It’s his fault, ‘Mione!” Y/N could feel her voice raising as she thought of how stupid she had been.

Hermione looked at the 6th year girl, whose eyes were puffy and red, whose lips quivered as she thought about everything. Hermione didn’t want to push her anymore, but she knew that Y/N needed to get it all out. She’d been holding it in for too long and it was affecting how she was in school and with her friends and as a person.

After giving Y/N a few moments of silence, Hermione spoke up. “So, what happened then?”

“Well, I started letting myself fall. I was such a git! And I wanted to spend so much time with him and be around him. I mean, I always was, but it just felt different now. I wanted to be close to him and touch him and it just felt different. And he was different too! He was attentive and seeking me out and yeah…” Y/N paused as she thought. Thinking about what happened.

“‘Mione,” Y/N whispered, “we snogged. A lot. And it went further than that. And – and I thought we were on the same page, but then he said he just wanted to stay friends because he didn’t want to ruin what we had…”

“HE DID WHAT?!” Hermione howled. Y/N could see the rage building up on her face. She knew maybe she shouldn’t have said that.

“ ‘Mione, please don’t get mad. Don’t yell. Don’t get mad at him. It’s already happened. I made the same decision he did. Plus, I told him it was okay. I told him I was fine, so I messed up. I didn’t check and make sure we were on the same page…” Y/N tried to explain.

“This is not your fault! Why is he so daft! Why would he do that! He did that AND THEN said he didn’t want to mess up the dynamic?”

“Well yeah, but he’s a boy, it's fine. Seriously.”

“Fine. I won’t yell at him yet. When did this all happen?”

Y/N bit her lip, thinking. Everything seemed to always blend together. “Two months ago, maybe…”

“Y/N! It’s April now…What happened next?” Hermione asked, knowing the story wasn’t over.

“Well, you know the quidditch match two weeks ago? When they beat Hufflepuff?” Y/N asked, wiping her eyes.

“yeah….”

“Well, I thought I had come to terms with everything by then. I went on that date to Hogsmeade and even though Zacharias Smith was an ass after, it was still nice when we went.”

“Okay? I knew that. He was an ass…”

“Yeah, exactly. Well, then the match came and they won and I didn’t get to see Harry because the people were just crowding and I couldn’t get to him. So, I waited for everyone to come out of the changing tents so I could congratulate our friends.. Well, Harry was the last one to come out and he was so excited that he kissed me. And I pretended I was fine because I couldn’t go through the ‘we’re just friends’ talk again. But, I couldn’t stop thinking about it after that. All the feelings that I gated off flooded right back in because it just felt right! He held me in a way that no one ever has and his lips just felt right. I couldn’t stop it!” Y/N was gasping, reliving what she had been avoiding.

“But, you’ve only been acting strange for a week. What changed between then and now?” Hermione asked. She’d been nodding along since Y/N started. She was thinking a lot and felt pretty angry, but she was keeping her anger at Harry hidden for Y/N’s sake.

“Well, I became overwhelmed. It’s all I could think about. It didn’t feel fair because I didn’t get to say what I really felt. I just took everything in. So, I worked up a little bit of courage and I told him how I felt last week. I said everything. I wrote it down and I just told him! But, but, but he didn’t say anything back. And when I saw him the next day, he just acted normal and as if nothing happened and I couldn’t do that! I couldn’t, ‘Mione…” Y/N felt the tears begin to swell up along the edges of eyes.

“Wow…he hasn’t said anything?”

Y/N shook her head.

“And you’ve just been dealing with it and acting as normal as possible?”

Y/N nodded.

“But, you’ve still been avoiding him and he hasn’t said anything.”

“I don’t think that he noticed,” Y/N said. “Of course, I haven’t seen him to know whether or not he has.”

Hermione thought for a second. She knew that Harry hadn’t said anything to her about Y/N not being around, so either it wasn’t bothering him or he didn’t notice. Ron was always slightly oblivious, so he didn’t completely understand what was going on, but he knew Y/N hadn’t been around as much. Hermione could tell Y/N this, but she didn’t want to be the one to break her friend’s heart, no matter how honest she wanted to be with her. She couldn’t do it.

“Do you want me to ask him what he’s thinking?” Hermione asked timidly.

“NO!” Y/N spoke louder than she had in a while. “I don’t want him to know I told you. ‘Mione, I’ve been thinking a lot. Harry not saying anything to me is an answer. He doesn’t want me… I can’t keep walking around here thinking that he’s just going to run up to me and tell me that he loves me. That only happens in the movies and this isn’t a movie. I need to just move on, but I needed a little bit of time before that. I needed to come to that decision myself.” Y/N tried to explain, with pleading in her eyes.

“I get that, but it isn’t fair to you…You deserve to be so happy!” Hermione argued.

“But, it doesn’t look like I’m going to get that from him…”

Hermione couldn’t hear it. This whole situation was ridiculous! Harry couldn’t just not say anything. If she had been in that situation, she wouldn’t have taken it! But what could she do? Y/N didn’t want her to get involved.

Y/N spoke up, breaking Hermione from her internal thought process. “I told you ‘Mione, I just need to give myself some time to move on and I can’t do that when I’m seeing him every day.”

“That makes sense, but I miss you! Can you please just be around more. I can stay away from him. Plus, we have to start studying for exams soon anyways. I just want to spend time with you!”

“I’m sorry you got caught up in all of this. You don’t have to worry about me.”

“I’m always going to worry about you!” Hermione assured her friend, fighting the internal struggle about what to do. She could do what Y/N asked and just leave it be, but that didn’t feel right. Boys this year were just messing everything up.

“I know. But we only have like two months of school anyways. It’ll be fine.” Y/N waved off whatever she was feeling, wiping away the few stray tears.

Hermione nodded, knowing there was nothing else she could do in that moment. So, she spent the rest of the day with Y/N. She convinced her to walk around and go out to the courtyard for a bit. Everyone else was on the grounds, so it was clear. They did run into a few Hufflepuff girls, but it was fine interacting with them.

Being a Sunday evening, the girls knew that they had a busy week, so they headed to the Common Room after a short dinner. A Harry free dinner of course.

“You go up, I need to gather some books from the Common Room,” Hermione said as Y/N went to the steps for the dormitory.

“Okay!” Y/N waved as she went up to their room.

Hermione looked around. She knew it wouldn’t be long before the boys got back from dinner. Hermione noticed on her way out that Ron and Harry ate with the other boys in their dorm tonight. She waved, but only Ron saw her. Y/N was walking out of the Great Hall so quickly that she didn’t have time to stop and say hi.

She dawdled picking up what she could, taking her time. She’d just tell Y/N that she realized she had to finish an essay if they took much longer. But, as if on cue, the portrait door swung open and in walked 5 boys. Seamus, Neville, and Dean stumbled up the dormitory stairs while Harry and Ron walked towards where Hermione was standing over her books.

“Where have you been?” Harry asked casually.

Hermione felt the fire inside of her flare, but she responded as calmly as possible. “I’ve been with Y/N for most of the afternoon and evening.”

“Blimey! So that’s where you went! We sat by the lake forever and figured you just went to do an assignment,” Ron shrugged as he turned.

“No, I went to find our other best friend. I haven’t seen her nearly at all this week and Ron said she was coming to the lake, but when she didn’t, I went to find her unlike you two blathering gits!” Hermione raised her voice.

Ron and Harry looked at her confused. “What are you talking about, ‘Mione?” Ron questioned.

“Have you two noticed nothing?! She’s never at breakfast with us, she skips meals, she hasn’t sat with us in lessons all week! We haven’t had our best friend! Ron, you’ve been so caught up with your break up and you, Harry, with that stupid book! We’re losing her!”

Now, the boys looked concerned. Hermione did raise her voice at them quite often, but something about this was different.

“What is wrong with you, Hermione?” Harry spoked up.

“You of all people should know!” Hermione spat before picking up her books and heading towards the stairs.

Ron looked at Harry with so much confusion in his eyes. “What’s she talking about?” he asked.

Harry stood there for a moment before he called after Hermione. “Wait! Come back here!”

Hermione stopped at the bottom of the stairs, taking in a deep breath before turning around. “What?” she responded sternly.

“Can you just tell us why you’re so angry?” Harry asked, trying to get a little more information out of her.

“It’s not my place,” Hermione barked. “Besides, it could be more efficient for me to just not say anything at all. Then I’ll just act like everything is normal!” With that small jab, she stomped up the stairs to her bedroom. She promised Y/N she wouldn’t say anything and she didn’t really. Not out right.

Hearing the door slam, Ron turned to Harry aghast. “What was she blithering on about? Bloody hell!” He ran his fingers through his hair.

“Fuck!” Harry cursed, when it dawned on him why she was so angry.

“I mean, I know Y/N’s been out of sorts this week, but she gets like that sometimes. I figured it was just that thing that happens to girls every month.” Ron rambled on, not hearing Harry. “Sure, she seemed a little more rushed and like she just wanted to be alone. I didn’t think it had anything to do with us.”

“It didn’t have anything to do with us, Ron. It had everything to do with me,” Harry flopped onto the couch as he slapped his hand over his face.

“What are you talking about?” Ron asked stupidly.

“I was an idiot! How couldn’t I have noticed that she was avoiding me?”

“What?” Ron asked again.

“Whenever you were at breakfast early this week, did you see Y/N?”

“Yes? But..”

“And did she always leave right before Hermione and I got there?” Harry cut him off.

Ron sat on a chair near Harry, thinking about the past week for a moment. “Now that you mention it, I guess she did. I thought she just had assignments to get ahead on. You know how her and Hermione can be…What are you thinking about, Harry? Come off it!”

“I’m an idiot!” Harry stood up quickly and rushed towards the stairs.

“Harry, you know that’s not going to work…” Ron called as he heard the stairs turn into the slide to keep the boys out of the girls’ dormitory.

“But, I’ve got to get up there! I’ve messed up Ron!”

“You could send her a note. It's only 7:15. I bet you could make it up to the owlery before curfew,” Ron suggested, getting comfortable.

“Ron! That’s brilliant!”

Before Ron could continue, Harry was out of the portrait hole again.

“OR!” Ron tried to call after him, “or you could wait until one of the other girls comes back and give them a note for Y/N…” Ron finished. “What the hell is going on with everyone?” Ron wondered as he placed his hands behind his head and relaxed in front of the fireplace.

______________________________________________________________________________

“What took you so long, ‘Mione?” Y/N asked when she came out of the bathroom to see Hermione just putting her books down.

“The boys came in while I was gathering my things,” Hermione responded truthfully, not knowing how her friend would respond.

“Oh…” Y/N faded off. “Did they have a good time at dinner?” Y/N asked, trying to be as normal as possible.

“Yeah, they did. We didn’t say much about dinner though.”

“Oh? What did you all talk about?” Y/N questioned as she moved around the room, pulling on her pajamas and hanging up her towel.

“Well, they asked where I went and then I kind of got angry with them…” Hermione tried to look innocent.

“Mione?” Y/N was now getting worried. “Why would you get angry?”

“I just, they asked where I went and I said to find you and then I got mad that they hadn’t noticed how you had been acting all week and…and _ I –” Hermione cut herself off to look up at Y/N just in time to see a horrified face. “Don’t worry! I didn’t say anything about what you told me! I can hold my tongue at least that much. But, I may have made a slight comment just to get him thinking…”

“YOU DID WHAT?” Y/N yelled, dropping everything in her hands.

“I don’t know if he got it. Ron was blabbering like an idiot when I came up the stairs. I just think that he owes you something! You are friends, at least! Maybe he just didn’t realize how he felt about you…” Hermione tried to explain.

“Mione! Now he knows that I’ve been sulking over him all week! He may be daft, but he’s not THAT daft!”

“But, you deserve to get something!” Hermione yelled out.

Luckily, it was early enough that the other girls weren’t back to the room just yet, so Y/N had a moment to compose herself. She really despised whenever Lavender tried to act like her best friend and comfort her. It was really the worst and just awkward. That all started when Ron and Lavender dated and Y/N wound up around her more often than she would have liked. Whenever she was with Harry and Ron and Lavender always popped up to be with Ron. It was the worst.

“What am I going to do now? I was so close to moving on, Hermione! Common!”

“I’m sorry! I’m really sorry, Y/N/N! But, someone needed to do something. He needs to talk back so that you can actually get some closure!”

“What did I tell you earlier! This isn’t a fucking movie! Merlin! I just wanted to move on before being around him all the time again, okay? Now I’m going to need to keep doing what I’ve been doing for a week!” Y/N ranted as she paced back and forth across the floor.

Hermione sat there silently, realizing how what she did may have been stupid, but she was going to continue to defend her actions. “Y/N/N, I’m going to tell you this again. He needs to say something. You can’t just let him off the hook. He’s being an idiot! And –”

Hermione was cut off by a light tapping at the window. The two girls turned to see a white snow owl.

“Hedwig?” Y/N was startled as Hermione went to open the window to let the owl in.

“She has a note tied to her leg…” Hermione noticed. “It’s for you.”

“He wrote me a note?” Y/N questioned.

“Maybe he realized that he was being an idiot. What’s it say?” Hermione asked as she handed Y/N the note and sat down next to her.

Hedwig flew over and hooted happily as Y/N unconsciously petted her, holding open the letter to look at Harry’s tiny, scribbled handwriting.

“What’s it say?”

“Give me a second! I need to decipher his writing,” Y/N trembled.

Y/N looked down at the note. It wasn’t long, it was straight forward.

“He wants to talk to me…” Y/N sat the note down and stood up suddenly, pacing around again. Hermione picked up the note and quickly scanned it.

“Y/N/N, he’s pretty much pleading for you to come downstairs right now. I bet he just ran all the way to the owlery to send this and get back in time.”

Y/N stood there thinking, not sure what to do, but before she could speak anymore, the dorm door flew open.

“Why was Harry so out of breath?” Parvati wondered out loud as her and Lavender discarded their things onto their beds. The two were giggling.

“What’s going on up here?” Lavender asked, trying to read the room.

“Nothing!” Y/N blurted quickly, knowing that Lavender wouldn’t ask Hermione for any details. The two hadn’t spoken in weeks. Before she knew what she was doing, she swept to the still open door. She didn’t know why she was going so quickly, but she forced herself to slow down when she was about halfway down the steps. She couldn’t seem too desperate. She had “moved on,” remember.

As she went to take the last turn, she practically stopped. She could hear the soft voices of the boys that she knew so well.

“Do you think Hedwig got her attention?”

“Mate, you haven’t even told me what’s going on,” Ron pointed out.

Y/N inched a little further down, trying to hear better.

“I’ll tell you once I know what’s going on!” Harry practically exploded. He’d gotten better at that from last year, but his temper still spouted from time to time.

Y/N felt her heart constrict. Was that good or bad? She moved forward just a little bit more as Harry had lowered his voice again. But, she must’ve gone a little too far and her foot slipped off the edge of the step. She felt her torso follow quickly after, tumbling down the last stairs and onto the Common Room floor.

“uhhh, hey guys…” Y/N felt her cheeks heat up. Thinking quickly, she added, “I just left something down here…” Maybe she couldn’t do this. She’d already poured her heart out over a week earlier. She couldn’t go through the pain again.

When she finally stood up, she realized that her fall must’ve caused both boys to jump out of their seats.

“What are you guys doing?” she tried to ask as normally as possible.

“Ummmmmm…well, look at the time! I’m going to go to bed!” Ron spit out quickly, lifting his arms and pretending to yawn. “Goodnight!”

Y/N watched helplessly as the only buffer in the room left. Now what was she going to do?

“Y/N?” Harry spoke up, Y/N still looking at the stairs Ron had just ascended.

“Uhhhh, hi? I’ll just grab that thing that I forgot and get out of your way.” Y/N looked around, trying to find something in the Common Room that she could claim as hers.

“I can help you look. What did you forget?”

Shit! Y/N thought to herself. Why was he so helpful?

“I didn’t forget anything, Harry.” Y/N sighed. “I – I got your note. Hedwig popped in upstairs…”

“Oh? You did? Good. That’s good because I wanted to talk to you about the other weekend and this week.”

“You really don’t have to, Harry. I know Hermione put you up to this. It’s fine. I told you that last week. There’s nothing to talk –”

“Y/N, will you just let me say something?” Harry interrupted. Y/N closed her mouth and nodded.

“Hermione didn’t put me up to this. I should have realized that something was wrong all week. I’m just blind and an idiot and I’ve been busy and…” Harry looked up to see Y/N looking at the ground. “That’s beside the point and not an excuse. I should have said something last week when you opened up to me.”

Y/N lifted her eyes from the floor for a moment, waiting to hear what else he had to say because as of that moment, she did not have any words that would fit in quite yet.

“I did the worst thing possible for that situation. I’m sorry, but I thought everything was normal between us, at least, I let myself think that.”

Y/N couldn’t handle the rambling anymore. “What do you want to tell me, Harry? I should really get back upstairs. I can’t go through this again. Stop dragging it out!” Well that was courage that she didn’t know she had.

“Right, I’m sorry. I guess what I want to say is that I really didn’t know what to say then. You caught me by surprise…” Y/N stared at him. She obviously already knew this and at this point, the situation was just getting irritating. Was he going to break her heart or not?

“In reality, I’m just scared. We’ve been friends for so long. How do you stop being friends and begin being more than that? I don’t know. No one I know seems to be figuring it out,” he added in, rolling his eyes. Y/N couldn’t help but giggle. She knew he was talking about the undiscussed feelings between Ron and Hermione.

“And you’re just amazing at everything you do. I’m not. You deserve so much more.”

Y/N’s heart panged at his words. Of course he was going to break her heart. Why did she bother getting her hopes up even slightly?

Harry must’ve noticed the sudden change in demeanor of the girl standing a few meters away from her. He knew he needed to change his tactic. “You care so much about everyone that you love. I don’t know if I could be enough for you.”

“HARRY!” Y/N just couldn’t take it anymore. “These all sound like excuses and ways for you to soften the blow. Just tell me that you don’t want to be with me so that I can go back to moving on like I was trying to do for the past week, for the past two months really!!” Her heart raced and she could hear the blood pounding in her ears. Couldn’t she just go back upstairs and flop on her welcoming bed?

Harry stood, speechless for a moment too long. Y/N huffed and turned to go upstairs. This really wasn’t a great way to start her week, so why prolong it? But, before she could reach the steps, a hand wrapped around her wrist, pulling her back. Y/N closed her eyes and took a deep breath. She was not going to cry.

“That’s not what I want though!” Harry blurted once Y/N turned to face him. “Y/N, I care about you so much. And I told you! I’m scared! These feelings scare me. What if something happens to you? It will all be my fault! I could never forgive myself.”

Y/N instinctively bit her lip, taking in his words. What could she say to that? She still wasn’t sure about any of this. Why had he waited a whole week?

“Say something?” he asked, eyes wide and looking at her hopefully.

“Oh? Say something? Maybe I should just nod and walk away. It seems to be really effective in avoiding situations,” Y/N scoffed. She could feel her walls going up. She knew she had avoided these feelings for so long and this was why.

“I was an idiot, Y/N! How was I supposed to tell you that? It would’ve just been easier to pretend that there was nothing between us. Then I wouldn’t have to think about what I’m feeling, let alone how I could potentially hurt you.”

Y/N could hear the sincerity in his voice.

“I don’t know what you want me to say now, Harry. You hurt me. You played with my heart all year. You had me thinking there was something when we were ‘just friends’ according to you. That hurts!” Y/N felt her voice waiver, but she was still set on not crying. She’d done more than enough of that.

Harry looked shocked. This was not what he was expecting obviously. Just a week ago, the girl of his dreams told him that she had feelings for him and he was too daft to say anything back. He screwed up, badly.

“My thoughts exactly,” Y/N spit as she began to pull away from him.

“No, wait. Don’t go.”

“What else is there to say?” Y/N asked, throwing her hands out to the side.

“Say, say that you still love me like I know you do. You may not have used those words, but I know you do. So that I can tell you that I love you and didn’t mean to play with your heart. It wasn’t fair of me because I didn’t know what to do with my own heart. And then I could pull you in and kiss your lips like I’ve wanted to again since two weeks ago, but didn’t.”

Y/N looked right into Harry’s green eyes. They looked as desperate as she had felt coming down the stairs earlier.

“Please, Y/N/N?” Harry asked again. “Please, because I love you…”

Y/N felt every time her chest rose and fell. She wanted this. She had wanted this for so long and now, here he was, fighting for her. It was literally like something she would see in one of those muggle movies, but why couldn’t she do it?

“Harry, I want to say it. I want to be in this moment with you. I haven’t wanted anyone like I’ve wanted you in so long, but you broke me. How can I trust that you aren’t going to want to be ‘just friends’ again next week?”

“You can trust me. I’m your best friend. You’ve always trusted me. Don’t think I didn’t notice that you went out with Smith. I did. And it made me so mad that it wasn’t me!” Harry continued to argue and explain. He realized that he should have said this all to you months ago.

Y/N sucked in a large amount of air, pulling her mouth muscles into her usual thinking face. What should she listen to? Her heart or her head. One telling her that this would be great and that they would be great together. The one telling her that this was what she had been wanting all year. Then there was the other side warning her that this could end in her hurt in just a few days. He didn’t seem so sure a week ago, why was he so sure now when he didn’t even realize how she was acting throughout the week?

Y/N looked down to where he was still holding her wrist. This wasn’t right. He should have found her days ago and said this. Or he should have said this when she poured herself out to him. He had every moment to do that!

Y/N shook her head. She had been right to tell Hermione earlier that this wasn’t a movie. It just wasn’t. He broke her trust and he broke her heart. But, she wasn’t going to do to him what he had done to her. She was going to tell him. She was going to break her own heart. And most importantly, she was going to give herself the chance and the opportunity to finally move on. Only she was going to be able to make that decision for herself.

“Harry, I just can’t do it. I dreamed about you coming to me, but it just doesn’t feel genuine. If this is how you actually felt, you would have said it last week. You aren’t that oblivious. You knew that was your chance if you wanted it too. I can’t just take you and pretend that you haven’t hurt me. Our chance is over. I’m sorry.”

At the end of her words, she looked up to meet Harry’s watering eyes. She’d seen so much joy in them in the past, but now all the pain in them was because of her. She couldn’t do it anymore. She needed to get out of the Common Room, but go where? All of her roommates were upstairs and it was well after curfew. Honestly, leaving and facing the possibility of detention sounded a lot better than a room full of girls.

“I– I have to go.” She pulled her wrist out of Harry’s grip and darted sideways towards the portrait hole. She flew out, not even stopping to see if the Fat Lady saw her, and climbed the stairs. She found herself in a 7th floor corridor before she even stopped to look around.

With eyes threatening to spill tears at any moment, Y/N fell to the floor. I just need somewhere to cry – she thought to herself as she began to sob. That’s when she felt the wall behind her start to shift. A small door appeared and without looking Y/N crawled inside. Once the door closed, she let her head rest against it and the tears fell in steady streams.

Rushing out of the Common Room so quickly, Y/N hadn’t seen Hermione and Ron emerge from their hiding places on the stairs. They found a stunned Harry, who was already beating himself up for how that went.

“Do I go after her?” he asked, tears starting to stream down his cheeks.

Hermione shook her head. “It’s after curfew and you have no idea where she went…”

“She’ll have to come back eventually mate,” Ron encouraged. “You could always just wait here.”

Harry nodded as he let Ron and Hermione direct him to the couch. Why had he been so impulsive? Why had he waited to begin with?

He sat there, staring as Ron and Hermione attempted to cheer him up. He knew that wouldn’t work. The only person who could make him happy ran from him. He blew it. He’d have to find a way to accept that, but he knew he wouldn’t be able to for a while. Not until she was at least his friend again because he couldn’t lose her all together.

______________________________________________________________________________

Y/N cried until she didn’t have any tears left. Once they ran dry, she only felt numb. She couldn’t go back to the Common Room now. Knowing how stubborn Harry is, he would still be sitting there, wanting to try all over again. Y/N couldn’t take another round of that tonight. I wish that this room had a bed – She thought to herself, finally looking around. Then, there in the corner, she saw a folded up cot. That would do. On one of the shelves, next to some tissues, she found a blanket and pillow. Okay. Now I just have to wake up early enough to sneak back in and get my books in the morning.

Feeling completely drained from the day, Y/N fell asleep quickly. She dreamed of nothing, which was a relief and in the morning, she decided that today was the day to start moving on. She would do it no matter how hard it was because this wasn’t a movie and she wasn’t going to wait around for someone who didn’t truly want her.

With that attitude in mind, Y/N quietly left the small room of requirement and tip toed back towards the Gryffindor Common Room. It was maybe 4:30 in the morning, so she hoped no one would be up for any reason. Giving the Fat Lady the password and receiving a slight scolding for waking her up so early, Y/N shut it silently behind her. Once in the Common Room, she could see that the coals of the fire were nearly burnt out, but there were three forms resting in the chairs in front of it – asleep.

Y/N couldn’t help but smile to herself? Had her friends been there all night? Did they really try to wait up for her? Okay…maybe seeing Harry sleeping there tensed and cold would make it a lot harder for her to move on. It was really sweet. She could only guess that Hermione was the one that kept the three from going to look for her. Y/N tip toed over to the three lumps as she summoned some blankets from the other side of the Common Room. She placed a blanket on both of them and took Harry’s glasses off his face. Then she saw the old piece of parchment open and clenched tightly in his fist.

Of course he’d pulled out the Marauder’s Map. She could now see where she was standing next to the three of them, but his finger was stationed at the entrance of where the room of requirement usually popped up. How did he know she would wind up there?

Y/N carefully pried the map out of Harry’s hands, so that she wouldn’t wake him up and mumbled “mischief managed” in order to make the parchment erase the lines of the castle and appear blank. Folding it and setting it next to his glasses, Y/N left the three and headed towards the stairs. But before she could get there, she heard movement. Not wanting to be noticed, she froze in her spot, hoping whoever it was had just been moving in their sleep.

“Y/N?” a soft voice rang out.

Y/N closed her eyes and scrunched up her face. So much for not being seen. Why had she gone over to her friends? Why hadn’t she just gone right upstairs?

Not knowing what else to do, Y/N turned back towards the fireplace to lock eyes with Harry’s, albeit sleepy, green eyes. He looked concerned and worried, but also happy and relieved at the same time. He picked up the glasses she had just taken off of his face and put them back on.

“Where did you go? Are you okay? We were worried when you didn’t come back,” he whispered, being mindful of the other two in the room.

“Uhhh, yeah. I just had to get away for a while and didn’t want to face a room full of girls…” she drew out, matching his soft voice.

“I understand. I wanted to come find you, but Hermione wouldn’t let us. I was going to sneak out after she went to bed, but then she stayed. Plus, she thought you may have gone to the room of requirement and said we wouldn’t be able to get to you if you didn’t want anyone bothering you…” Harry explained, recounting his night as quickly as possible.

“She sure does know me well,” Y/N replied, brushing one arm with her hand. When had it gotten so cold in here?

Harry must’ve noticed instantly because he immediately took off his jumper and tried to hand it to her.

“No, Harry, it’s okay. I’ll just go up to bed.”

Harry lowered the jumper, looking defeated. Now Y/N felt bad.

“Harry,” Y/N sighed. She had really wanted to avoid this.

“No, you don’t have to say it again. I heard you the first time. But, just let me say something?” Harry asked.

Y/N nodded in response.

“I don’t want to lose you. If you don’t want to be more than friends anymore, I understand. I was a complete prat, but I can’t lose you in my life. I still want you to be my friend. Of course, I won’t stop trying to prove myself to you, but that’s besides the point. I just need you with me in some way.” Harry’s eyes widened, begging her to understand. Of course she understood, that’s why she didn’t want to tell him how she felt to begin with. Why had she done that again?

“Of course I want to be in your life, Harry. I can’t imagine mine without you, but you might have to give me some space.” There she goes, continuing to put distance between them. Harry hated it.

“Well, how much space? Because we could keep that space to just the meter in between us across at the dinner table or…” Harry moved a little bit closer. Y/N was frozen in her spot. “Or, I could drop out of school and pretend not to go here for a month. I’ll go back to the Dursley’s if you need that much space.”

He moved towards her again. Y/N felt her heart thump in her chest. It was too early for this. She wasn’t in her right mind because it would just be so easy to give in to him right now. Why did his eyes have to melt her insides every time?

“Or, the only space could be the short distance when we sit next to each other in potions. Please, don’t go sit with the Slytherins again. Draco looked way too smug.” Y/N couldn’t help but smirk at that comment. He moved a few steps closer to her again. “Or, we could just forget the space…” Why oh why did he do this to her? By this point, Harry was towering over Y/N, pretty much daring her to look up at him and meet his eyes.

Y/N could feel his breath near her skin. It was warm and slow. She knew that he was waiting for her to do something. Common Y/N, just do something! – she thought. Shit! She gave in, she looked up to meet his eyes. There was a determination she had never seen in them before. It bared into her soul. She instinctively bit her lip, she couldn’t help it. She always did it when she was nervous.

She watched as Harry’s eyes wandered down her face and to her lips, then back up to her eyes. Damnit, she was going to give in.

Softer than she had ever spoke, she whispered, “Maybe, space is a little overrated…”

That was all he needed to crash his lips onto hers. His hands found their way to the nook between her face and neck and he pulled her closer to deepen the kiss. It felt like so much more than any kiss they had shared before.

Y/N was the first to pull away, breath heavy. “This is not what I had in mind when I told myself I was going to move on,” she whispered.

Harry chuckled, shaking his head. “No, probably not, but this way is definitely better for me,” he smirked.

Y/N let her hand move up to hold one of his, both of which were still holding her face. No, things that happen in movies don’t usually happen in real life, but maybe this was the exception. Maybe, this was her movie.

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