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your-eternal-muse · 4 years

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Wish I Were....

Heather Series Chapter 12 (FINAL PART)

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4 Part 5 Part 6 Part 7 Part 8 Part 9 Part 10 Part 11

Bonus!:Readers Card Confession Bonus!:To Hold On, To Let Go, Spencers take Bonus!:Series Playlist

Summery: Reader no longer wishes she were someone else

Words: 4k

Warnings: Swearing, Description of Birth, just pure, tooth aching fluff

Pairing: Spencer Reid x Female!Reader

Y/N: This is it y’all. This is the final chapter of the Heather's Series. I started this journey a little over a month ago, and my god, has it been amazing. I never thought it would pick up the traction it did, and I am so glad I decided to start posting in the first place. I’m gonna take a short break from posting any writing just to recuperate and stuff, but it won’t last longer than a week, and I will still be interacting on the platform itself. I want to thank every single reader who has liked and/or reblogged my work. It means so much to me, and I would not have gotten this far without your support. I love you all with all of my heart. There will be one more bonus “chapter” that I will be posting within the next couple days, but it’ll be mostly headcanons, and answering any questions you may have about the series. I hope the ending is worth it.

With love, your eternal muse,

Frankie <3

~~~~~

I used to be a night owl.

I used to live in the night, sit under the stars and soak it all up.

I used to not go to bed until hours after the sunset, perfectly content to not waking up until hours after it had risen.

Now, I’m lucky to sleep for a few hours between dusk and dawn.

But I’m okay with that.

The ringing of trembling tears echoes through my ears, and I stir awake.

I rub my face, looking at the clock as I push back the comforter.

4 am.

Oh goody.

“I’ve got her baby, go back to sleep.”

Spencer whispers in my ear, planting a kiss on my shoulder, and I’m not one to argue.

I fall back into the pillows, pulling the blanket back up to my chin, my eyes closing without much resistance.

I wake an hour late, expecting to feel his body warmth against my back.

I turn, rubbing the sleep out of my eyes, realizing that the blanket is still pulled back from when he got up the hour before.

Oh dear lord please tell me she didn’t get sick.

I climb out of bed, padding down the hallway towards the soft glow of light emitting from her room.

I pause at the doorway, watching as he holds her close to his chest, a smile draped across his face.

I can’t help but stand and watch as he sways back and forth, watching her sleep in his arms.

I notice her tiny hand is clasped around his ring finger, the gold of his wedding band glowing in the dim light.

I love that ring on him.

I never thought I’d be the one to put it on him.

My heart is pounding in my chest.

Why am I so nervous?

He’s not going to leave me stranded.

Right?

Jesus, get a grip, y/n.

“Are you ready y/n?” Hotch walks around the corner, fixing his cuff links as he walks up to me.

I take a deep breath in, trying to convince myself that I wasn’t going to throw up.

“Yep. I’m ready, I just….” I fan myself. “Is it normal to feel like you’re going to pass out on your wedding day?”

He smiles, coming forward and taking hold of my hand. “It is. And I guarantee you, he’s worse than you are.”

I laugh, just imagining the state he’s in.

He hasn’t seen me in three days, since I’m a stickler for tradition.

It was my bachelorette party, than his bachelor party, and now here we are.

“When Haley and I got married, I was a nervous wreck. I don’t think I took a normal breath until hours after just because I was so worried about everything going to plan.”

He brushes some of the curls framing my face out of my eye sight.

“But, when I met her eyes, it didn’t matter. Nothing mattered. It was just us, and I knew, at that moment, that everything would be okay.”

I nod, exhaling. “Okay. I’m ready.”

He loops my arm through his, turning to the closed doors where my future waits for me.

“Thank you, Aaron. For giving me away. You’re the closest thing to a father I’ve got.”

He pats my hand. “It’s my honor, y/n.”

I hear the start of the music, and my heart jump starts.

I grip his arm, trying to control my breathing.

“Don’t let me fall.”

“Never.”

The doors open, and for a moment, I panic.

But then my eyes meet his.

And everything else disappears.

His hands are clasped in front of him, and I see him look me over, taking in everything.

Tears are streaming down both of our faces, and god, I never realized how much I missed him when he’s gone.

We reach the altar, where a proud Rossi stands, and Hotch hands me off with a kiss to my cheek.

I hand JJ my flowers, turning clasping Spencer's hands in mine.

When my hand touches his, my breathing returns to normal.

However, before I even notice, JJ is handing me a folded piece of paper that holds my vows.

Weddings always seem longer when you’re not in them.

I unfold the paper, clearing my throat.

“I don’t have an eidetic memory, so I need this so I don’t make a fool of myself.”

A couple laughs from the crowd.

Okay, here goes nothing.

“The first time I saw you, you were sitting at your desk, while Derek and JJ sat around you, watching you explain the scientific inaccuracies of Star Wars.”

He laughs, and Derek pats his shoulder from behind him.

“I was awestruck to say the least. The way your eyes lit up with excitement, how your hands couldn’t stay still.”

I take a breath, trying to keep the tears at bay.

“I fell in love with you at that moment. But I knew I was done for when you looked at me for the first time.”

Rossi produces a tissue from his pocket, and I laugh, accepting and blotting at my tears.

“You are my best friend. You are there for me in my darkest times, and are often the cause of all my light ones. You hold me when I cry, and you laugh when I’m angry at something stupid. You never make me feel stupid. You are the greatest thing to have ever happened to me.”

Christ, why was this so hard?

“I love you. And I promise to cherish you, and not get annoyed when you ramble on about god knows what, because I love to listen to you talk. I promise to never make you feel like you don’t matter, because you matter so much. I promise to love you through thick and thin, in sickness and in health, until the end of time itself. I choose you, forever and always.”

I fold the paper up again, dabbing away my tears.

“Well, look at that, I still made a fool of myself.”

More laughs, and I hear a few sniffles here and there.

Spencer wipes his own eyes. “I don’t know if I can top that.”

I giggle.

He goes into his jacket, and pulls out a white envelope, and my face scrunches in confusion.

“It’s not what you think it is.” He whispers.

He opens it, pulling out a car, and begins to read from the inside.

“You told me once, in a card similar to this one, that the moment you admitted to yourself that you loved me, was on a road trip to visit my mom. I thought it fitting that I tell you that, that was the moment I admitted to myself that I loved you in the same way. So here we are.”

I bring a hand up to my mouth, covering the ugly sobs that threaten to spill out.

“We had only known each other for a month, but you were easily taking over every brain cell in my mind. I was terrified of you saying no, but I asked anyway. Those two weeks were some of the best of my life. I fell in love with your laugh, your smile, the way your hair looks in the sunlight. I fell in love with you from the driver's seat and I’ve loved you ever since. You deserve to be reminded of that every day for the rest of your life. I promise to hold and cherish the heart that you have given me. I promise to catch you, every time you run away. I promise to protect you with my life. You mean everything to me, and I can’t wait to spend the rest of forever with you. I love you, forever and always.”

He closes it, and it takes a moment for me to gather myself.

“I promise I didn’t look at your vows before writing mine.”

I laugh.

Rossi clears his throat. “The rings please, Henry.”

Henry walks forward, our rings sitting on the pillow as he smiles at us.

“Thank you buddy.” I say, taking hold of Spencer’s between my fingers.

“Alright. Y/n, repeat after me. I, Y/n Y/l/n, take Spencer Reid, to be my husband.”

I repeat the words, a smile growing bigger and bigger on my face.

“To have and to hold from this day forward, for better for worse, in sickness and in health, to love and to cherish until the end of time.”

Can I kiss him yet?

I say the words, like casting a spell, before slipping the golden band onto his finger.

Rossi repeats the phrase, and Spencer’s smile is as big as mine, if not bigger.

“Until the end of time.”

He delicately slips the ring on my finger, and my heart starts pounding.

“One more question for each of you. I promise, we're almost there.”

He smiles at each of us, before turning back to me.

“Do you, Y/n Y/l/n, take Spencer Reid as your lawfully wedded husband?”

“I do.”

Not even a question.

“And do you, Spencer Reid, take Y/n Y/l/n as your lawfully wedded wife?”

“I do.”

I start bouncing on my toes, too excited to care.

“Then it is my great pleasure and honor to pronounce you, husband and wife.”

He turns to Spencer. “You may now kiss the bride.”

He doesn’t hesitate, cradling my face in his hands as he places his lips on mine.

It’s just me and him, in an empty room.

I move my hands up his chest, wrapping my arms around his neck.

It’s only when we break, that I remember people are here, and the room is filled with applause.

With our hands clasped together we walk back down the aisle, and I swear I am never going to be this happy ever again. And that’s okay.

My eyes fall from his arms, to the dresser sitting next to her crib.

The top is covered with photos, personalized trinkets, and books.

One picture is framed with her name in gold lettering down the side.

My first sonogram.

Through the glass I can see wrinkles in the film.

Spencer carried it with him until the day she was born.

He had always mentioned how he wanted to have kids someday.

It didn’t make me any less nervous to tell him, though.

“Hello?”

“Hi! Is this Mrs. Y/n Reid?”

I stop writing, my pen mid stroke on my paper.

“This is she.”

“Hello! This is Nicole calling from United Health with the results of your pregnancy test.”

Jesus that was fast.

“Oh! That was quicker than I expected.”

I set my pen down, closing my file, pushing some hair behind my ear, looking around to see if anyone was in ear shot.

They weren’t.

“We get that a lot. But, I’d like to say congratulations! You are pregnant!”

I stop breathing for a moment.

“Oh my god. Oh my god! Thank you!”

Holy shit.

Holy fucking shit.

“You’re so welcome! Congratulations again! Have a great rest of your day!”

I hang up, still trying to grasp the words that have just been spoken to me.

I’m pregnant.

I’m fucking pregnant.

Holy fuck.

“Y/n? Baby, are you okay?”

I snap out of my daze to see Spencer standing beside my desk, a look of skeptical worry on his face.

“Uh...yeah. Yeah. I’m fine. Um…”

I have to tell him. I can’t keep this a secret from him, even if I wanted to try and surprise him.

I stand, running my hands over my pants.

“Okay, somethings wrong. You do that when you’re nervous.”

I can’t help but laugh, placing a hand on his shoulder.

“Nothings wrong, Spence. Um, I just got a call from United Health.”

He’s confused, setting the file in his hand, down on my desk.

“Why would United Health be calling you?”

There are days when I can't believe he has an I.Q. of 187.

“I went in yesterday, to get a test done. I’ve been gaining weight, and I’ve been getting sick in the mornings. I also skipped my last period.”

I can sense the wheels beginning to turn in his head.

“Wait. Are you…”

I nod, tears falling down my cheeks. “I’m pregnant, Spencer.”

It takes a moment for the words to register in his brain, but then he’s yelling in excitement, throwing his arms around my waist, picking me up and spinning me around.

He sets me down, his eyes red rimmed, his smile one I will never forget.

“You’re pregnant. Oh my god we’re having a baby.”

His hands are placed on either side of my face, and I can’t help but laugh at his infectious excitement.

“Who’s having a baby, now?”

Derek walks up, and Spencer turns, and I know Derek knows just by the shit eating grin on Spencer’s face.

But I just love saying it.

“I’m pregnant.”

Derek’s eyes light up as he claps his hands together, before pulling Spencer into a hug. “My man!”

JJ and Emily gather around, all smiles and squeals as I’m captured in the middle of a group hug.

Penelope walks into the bullpen then, confusion written across her face.

“What’s going on out here? Why are you guys screaming? Who won the lottery?”

I bite my lip, trying to hold back the smile.

“I’m pregnant!” I all but scream.

Penelope’s expression changes in an instant as she practically runs forward.

“Oh my god! Holy crap! Baby genius! That’s so much better than the lottery!”

She catches me in a bone crushing hug before suddenly pulling back.

“Crap. Sorry. Fragile baby.”

“Congratulations baby girl.” Derek swaps places with Penelope, who is now hugging Spencer with everything she has.

“Alright, why are you guys hugging each other?”

Rossi and Hotch walk through the glass doors, taking in the commotion.

I feel Spencer wrap his arms around me from behind, as he kisses my shoulder, my neck, my cheek.

“I’m pregnant!”

A smile immediately forms on Rossi’s face as he comes forward, grasping my face between his hands, kissing me on each of my cheeks.

“Congratulations, principessa.”

“Congratulations, to both of you.”

Hotch is smiling, waiting his turn to give hugs.

“It’s decided, celebratory dinner at my place tonight!” Rossi announces and we all cheer.

I turn my head, placing my hands over Spencer’s which are now resting over my stomach.

“I love you.” I smile.

“I love you, too. Both of you.”

Soft humming breaks the silence of the room, and quiet words float through the air as he sings to her sleeping form.

“Come Josephine, in my flying machine. Going up she goes, up she goes.”

I enter the room then, tip toeing over to stand by his side, leaning my head against his shoulder as I gently stroke her hair.

“Up, up, a little bit higher. Oh! My! The moon is on fire! Come, Josephine in my flying machine going up, all on, goodbye!”

She’s tiny.

I couldn’t fathom how tiny she was a month ago, and she has grown, but she’s still so small.

Has it already been a month?

“Jesus fuck, I promised myself this wouldn’t happen at work.”

I shouldn’t have come in.

I know that.

I know that waking up with contractions is a tell tale sign that you should not go to work.

But she isn’t due for another two weeks. Two weeks is a long time. Hopefully enough time to get a grip on myself so I don’t panic that I’m gonna fail as a mother every time I think about it too hard.

I thought maybe I could just get through the day, but the warm stream trickling down my leg is a big fuck no to that.

I’m trying to steady my breathing, the cup of tea I was making abandoned on the counter as I grip the edge with a force I didn’t know I had.

“Y/n? Is everything okay?”

Hotch walks up, worry creasing his brow.

He places a hand on my back, a comfort as pain ripples up and down my spine.

I shake my head. “I need Spencer.”

I shift my weight from leg to leg. “And a towel.”

He nods his head, looking around for a chair, frowning when he comes up empty.

“Aaron,” I say, turning my head towards him. “Please go get my husband.”

“Right.” He nods, taking a second to make sure I wasn’t going to topple over before almost running towards Penelope's bat cave.

A hiss escapes my mouth as I feel a jab in my side.

“Yeah, I know baby, I wish he would hurry the fuck up too.”

A plethora of footsteps fall upon my ears, and Spencer immediately places a hand on my lower back, taking hold of mine with his other.

“How far apart are they?” is the first thing out of his mouth.

“I’m fine, honey, thanks for asking.” I say as we start to make our way towards the front glass doors.

He gives me a look and I sigh.

“I don’t know. I thought if I didn’t count they’d go away and I could pretend this isn’t happening at work.”

“I wish it worked like that.” JJ laughs, holding open the door and what I presume is my go bag.

“Me too.” I grit, squeezing Spencer’s hand.

“Remember our deal. Not one statistic, or fact is to be uttered from your mouth today. You are not a doctor once we enter the hospital.”

I can see the panic start to form on his face, but he laughs.

“Yes ma’am.”

~~~

I’m never doing this again.

I don’t think I’ve ever been in this much pain before.

I’ve been in this room for what feels like forever, because she’s taking her sweet time being early.

No amount of pillows or soothing rubs can help the aches that are washing over me.

My hair is falling from the bun I threw it up in, sweat coating every inch of skin I have.

I feel gross in every sense of the word.

I lean forward and groan as another contraction rips through me.

How do women do this?

Spencer brushes some hair out of my face and lays a cool washcloth on my neck as I grip the side rails of my bed.

“You’re doing so good baby.”

It feels like I can’t breath.

“I don’t know how much longer I can do this.”

He knows there’s not much he can do right now to help, but he holds my hand, trailing his hand up and down my back.

“Just a little bit longer. I promise. She’s almost here. You’re doing so good, y/n. I’m so proud of you.”

If only he knew about the panic flowing through my veins, the thoughts that I’m not ready to be a mom bouncing around my skull like an insistent headache.

A knock at the door, and my doctor walks in, smiles and bright eyes. “How are you feeling, y/n?”

“Like a,” I groan, trying to move away from the pain, shifting forward and backwards. “Like a million bucks.”

She laughs, and I don’t have the energy to be nice and laugh with her.

“Well, I still need to check, but I’m pretty sure you’re ready to push.”

I close my eyes, not wanting to look as she sticks her fingers in a place that will need some R&R after this.

“I was right. You’re ready. Now, your body knows exactly what to do. It’s best to not fight it, and just listen to what it’s telling you okay?”

I start to move myself back away from her, my breathing picking up pace.

I can’t do this.

“No. No. I can’t. I’m not ready.”

She doesn’t seem phased at all, but Spencer easily notices the fear in my voice.

“Hey, Hey, Hey. Look at me.” His hands stroke the sides of my face, and his fingers are wet from my tears and sweat.

I shake my head. “I’m not doing this. I’m not ready. What if I fail? I don’t want to fail her. I can’t. No. I’m gonna be a horrible mother.”

“Y/n, baby, breath with me.” He takes my hand, and places it on his chest.

I can feel his breaths beneath his breastbone, the frantic heartbeats that give away his true state of mind.

I hate that I’m stressing him out.

“You are going to be a great mother. One of the best. I don’t think you could fail even if you tried.”

He brushes my tears away. “But you can’t force your body to stop. You need to let go. I’m right here.”

“Alright, were ready, y/n.”

My eyes pass between Spencer’s and I know he’s right.

I just need to let go.

I nod, and I move back to where I was.

My left hand grips the rail, while my right is situated inside Spencer’s.

I feel the next contraction start.

“Alright I need you to push for me.”

I’m on the brink of a mental breakdown, but I take a breath and let my muscles do the work.

I hear that groaning and screaming can actually help, so that’s what I do.

With every push, my voice grows louder, words lost in the back of my throat.

But I’m getting tired, and I can feel myself crashing.

So when another contraction pulses through me, I push myself forward, and use every muscle in my body.

“Get out, get out, get out, GET OUT!”

I don’t think I’ve ever screamed that loud, but it seemed to work.

It felt like a gush and then crys fill the room.

I fall back onto the bed, tears streaming down my face.

“She’s beautiful!” I hear my doctor say over her screams.

Spencer kisses my forehead, his own tears coating his face. “You were amazing, baby. I’m so proud of you.”

“Here she is!”

My doctor lays a bundle of white blankets onto my chest, and when I see her face, my heart stops.

The world could be burning around me, but I wouldn’t care. Even covered in gunk and red faced, she’s the most beautiful thing I’ve ever seen.

I sob, holding her close to me, Spencer right there beside me, his hand gently stroking the top of her head.

“Hi, Ettie.” I whisper. “We’ve been waiting for you.”

“She’s so beautiful.” He whispers, his voice thick with emotion.

I can’t take my eyes off her. I never want to let go of her.

Nothing else matters anymore, nothing but her.

Juliet Diana Reid.

Born at 6:08 am, on the third of December.

He places her in my arms, and I clutch her close to my chest as I move back towards her crib to lay her down again.

I don’t understand how I could have ever doubted how amazing my life would be with her in it.

Soft snores emit from her small mouth, and Spencer wraps his arms around my waist, resting his chin on my shoulder, only moving when he hears me sniffle.

“Why are you crying, love?” he whispers

I wipe my face, turning around so I can face him.

His hands are on my hips, his thumbs rubbing circles on my skin.

“For so long, I was jealous of so many people.” My hands play with the fabric of his t-shirt, rubbing it between my fingers.

“I was jealous of Heather. Of what she had.”

My hands move up his chest, coming to rest at the base of his neck.

“I dreamed about this. About having this with you. And I never thought I would get it. But here I am.”

I smile up at him. “I have everything I have ever wanted. I wouldn’t wish for another life even if it was offered. I have you, and Ettie, and the life I wanted so bad. I’m just…”

I swallow the noise threatening to spill from my throat, so I don’t wake up the sleeping girl behind me.

“I’m just really happy is all.”

He smiles softly down at me, and he brings up a hand to cup my cheek.

He leans down and kisses me slowly, gently, in a way that always leaves me paralyzed.

“I love you.” He whispers.

I nuzzle my nose against his, before laying my head against his chest, feeling his arms wrap around me, holding me tight against him.

“I love you, too.”

I love you, Spencer.

I love you.

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Heather Tag List: @drsoftboyreid @racerparker @avaholcombe @rodgertayloroof @stephanieisgay330 @swiftspaperings @rainsong01 @darthseph @liaabsurd @tracyn910 @holypicklelightnickel @pianofirepirate @radtwinkie @madcrazy50 @bweakmybonez @constantlywishingonstars @l0ve-0f-my-life @expressiodepressio @flannelpjpants @x-midnight-violets-x @kwyloz @todaynotseen @caitlin-f @mylovehes @yoongi-holland @vamp-army @realimbo @stardream14 @magicbeanssss @jessaminelovelace @darthvadersturd @nikkilikewhoa @mellifluouswildbluebells @lex-rodgers-sheild @crist1216 @voguekristen @doctorspencrreid @girlwithcrocs @harryscherrymoon @cherriesnwatermelons @heyitssomegirl101 @mollygetssherlockcoffee @colorfulsunflowerx @falcon-arrows @hereforbeebo @legallyplatinumblonde @thatsonezesty13

#spencer reid #spencer reid series #spencer reid fluff #spencer reid angst #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid x female!reader #criminal minds #criminal minds series #cm #mathew gray gubler #mgg #Heather #Conan Gray #song fic

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seungmoroll · 3 years

Text

Heather | Hwang Hyunjin

Word count: 3.8k

Genre & tags: angst, dance team au, brother!Minho, mentions of other idols

A/N: this is the 4th part of the Heather series, you can read the others here.

Shining through the city with a little funk and soul

I’ma light it up like dynamite, whoa

Pants could be heard from all around the room showcasing the hard work and dedication everyone had put into the dance. Your eyes filled with awe as you sit off to the side. After 5 seconds of listening to their tired pants, you stand up and bust out in applaud, and soon the rest of them join you.

“You guys looked amazing! That was the best run so far. There’s no way any other team can beat you guys this Friday.” The looks and smiles on their faces let you know that they’re thankful for your words. However, you don’t have enough time to fully appreciate the moment as a body crashes into yours, forcing you back onto the sofa.

“Ugh, get off of me Minho.” Unfortunately for you, your attempt to push him off only makes him put even more of his weight on top of you.

“Can’t you let your tired brother rest for a moment?” You had the pleasure, note the sarcasm, of calling Minho your brother. You swear it’s his life mission to annoy you, however, there are perks of having him as your brother. One of them being that he has to drive you around everywhere, and another one being that you get to hang out at the dance studio that Minho goes to, which means you get to see your favorite people in the world. Speaking of favorite people, the sound of heavenly laughter fills your ears, and you turn to see Hyunjin laughing at yours and Minho’s antics. Gaining enough strength thanks to Hyunjin’s beautiful laugh, you manage to push Minho off of you, making him land on the sofa next to you with a groan.

“Gosh Minho, your big butt was suffocating me.”

“So, you admit I got a big butt?” All you want to do is knock the cockiness off his face, but you choose to be good, since Hyunjin was only a few feet away.

“You’re insufferable.”

Plopping himself on the sofa next to you, Hyunjin says, “I’m surprised you two haven’t killed each other yet.”

“Our mom says we can only kill each other after 10pm.” Is what you and Minho say synchronously, causing for laughter to erupt from Hyunjin.

“You guys are basically the same person.” Taking offense to his comment, you playfully smack him, “Don’t insult me like that.”

“Ow, you can’t hit precious things like me.” You roll your eyes at his dramatics. A year ago, if someone were to tell you that you would’ve had feelings for Hwang Hyunjin, you would’ve laughed in their face.

Hyunjin was an interesting character, not everyone realized that. Everyone only saw him for his exterior; they only focused on his visuals. Yes, you agree that he’s handsome, heck, you were sure that he sparkled sometimes, but that’s not what made you like him. Behind his looks, was someone that was so in touch with his feelings and wasn’t afraid to show them. One night, you had to go to the dance studio and wait for Minho who was helping Hyunjin with a dance, and before you had barged into the practice room, you saw Hyunjin and Minho sitting on the ground with Hyunjin crying his eyes out. He was crying because he was stressed out and he just needed to release everything. You didn’t make your presence known, but instead you watched as your brother comforted him. That’s when your perception of him changed; he wasn’t the mysterious beauty you thought he was.

“You’re coming with us after the competition, right?” It was tradition for the team to get a meal together after a dance competition.

“Duh, Minho’s my ride home.” That wasn’t your only reason why you were going. You actually enjoyed hanging out with the team.

“Good, I like it when you hang out with all of us.” His statement makes you blush, and you hope that Hyunjin doesn’t realize it’s because of him. From your other side you hear Minho scoff, making you smack him in the chest.

“You’re still doing my hair, right?” Ever since Hyunjin started growing out his hair, he’s been finding out new ways to style it, and that meant you doing his hair.

“Of course, can’t have you looking like a hot mess in front of a large audience.” It didn’t matter what his hair looked like; he’d still look good.

“So you think I’m hot?” Hyunjin asks with a teasing smirk.

“Psh, what, no.” He raises an eyebrow at you as you attempt to form a sentence, “But you’re not ugly either, you’re, you’re…fine yes you’re hot…or whatever.” The sound of his laughter fills your ears and you can’t help but want to record it to listen to it all the time.

“I’m just messing with you, Y/n.” He gently ruffles your hair, “It’s so fun to mess with you.”

Huffing, “I disagree.”

“Well I agree.” Minho butts in. More laughter comes from Hyunjin as you launch yourself at Minho.

A few days later and it’s the night of the competition. You and The Snipers are in the dressing rooms getting ready. Because the dance had more of a fun theme, you and Hyunjin had agreed to add a little bit of pop to his hair. As you started to braid small sections of his hair, you added some colorful beads. You can feel Hyunjin’s stare on you through the mirror and you hope that he doesn’t notice the nervous tremors in your hands.

“You better make sure I look good Y/n.”

“When do you not look good?” Covering up your mouth, you couldn’t believe that you had let that slip out.

“I think that’s the nicest thing you’ve ever said to me.”

Playfully shoving at his shoulder, “Hey, you say that like as if I’m not nice all the time.”

“You’re the devil, of course you’re not nice.” Minho butts in. If looks could kill, you were sure Minho would be a goner.

“I want you to keep your eyes on me tonight, Y/n.” Hyunjin’s bold statement makes your heart skip a beat.

“What? Why?” There was no reason for Hyunjin to say this to you.

“Because I’m the only one you should look at.” His sentence sounds whinier than it does serious, but you see it as a sliver of hope that shines for you.

“Yah,” Minho starts, smacking Hyunjin in the back of the head, “They’re my sibling, they should be focused on me, plus it’s my last dance with you guys.”

“Oh boohoo, Y/n has seen you dance plenty of times. They should have something that’s more eye catching to look at this time.” Another smack is landed on the back of Hyunjin’s head.

“Yah, stop that Minho. You’re ruining my masterpiece.”

“See, Y/n thinks I’m a masterpiece.”

Scrunching your nose, “Not you, your hair.”

“My hair is a part of me; therefore, I am a masterpiece.” You couldn’t disagree with him, however, being you, you have to say something a bit insulting.

“Why is everyone on this dance team delusional?” You feel a pair of eyes on you and you instantly say, “Not you Felix, you’re a wonderful human being.” This time it’s you who gets the smack to the back of the head, but it doesn’t matter because you got to see Felix’s beautiful smile.

“Hey, why do you like Felix more than me?” ‘Oh Hyunjin, you big idiot. If only you knew.’ Minho snorts at Hyunjin’s question, and you send him another life-threatening glare. Minho knew about your feelings for Hyunjin, he wasn’t blind. He’d send you teasing glances every chance that he got, but you were thankful that he never brought it up to Hyunjin. To be honest, he thinks you could do better, but you think he only says that because Hyunjin is his friend.

Deciding to mess with Hyunjin a little bit, you respond, “Because Felix is precious.” A pout settles on Hyunjin’s face and you swear that it’s the cutest thing you’ve ever seen. Though you do have to say that the smile and hearts Felix sends you is almost as cute.

“Oof, Hyunjin looks like you don’t have everyone wrapped around your finger, isn’t that right Y/n?” Jeno says, poking fun at Hyunjin.

“Nah, I know Y/n has heart eyes for me.” Hyunjin playfully winks at you, and you hate the way your heart did somersaults in your chest.

“You wish Hwang.”

After the team had left to get ready to go on stage, you went on your way to find a seat in the audience. While searching for a seat with the best view of the stage, you see an individual frantically waving at you. Squinting to see who it is, you recognize the person as Jungeun, an acquaintance you made thanks to the dance team. Jungeun, or better known as Kim Lip on stage, was part of a different dance team and you guys happened to meet at a different dance competition. You were on your way to your seat after doing last minute touchups to Hyunjin’s hair, when you saw that she needed help fixing her hair, so you lent her a helping hand. From then on, you guys would say hi to each other every time you saw one another.

Reaching Jungeun, you are pulled into a hug, “Hey, I didn’t know you were going to be here.” There was no indication that Jungeun’s dance team was competing tonight.

“Oh, I was invited to come, plus I wanted to watch the competition anyways.” To you, her answer seemed normal since she was a dancer after all, so you didn’t bother to question it any further. Though you did want to know if you knew the person who invited her, but you guys weren’t close enough for you to ask.

“Do you have a seat already?” Jungeun asks.

“No, I was just about to look for one.”

“Oh you can sit with me!” She offers you the vacant seat next to her, and you kindly accept it; one, because it had a nice view of the stage, and two, because you didn’t like sitting by yourself.

“This is your brothers last competition, right? I heard he was going to be a backup dancer for a boy group.” You weren’t surprised that she knew of this. Practically everyone in the dance scene here in your city knew of Minho, so of course word would spread about his new position.

“Yeah, it is. He wanted his last dance with The Snipers to be amazing, so him and the others put so much work into this performance.” If you were forced to compliment Minho, the one thing that you could say that wouldn’t make you gag was that he was passionate. He gave it his all for every dance he’s done, which is why no one was surprised when he told you that he was going to be a backup dancer for a big idol group. Since he always gave 110% effort in his dances, for this performance everyone else gave 120% effort to have one last win for Minho. Honestly, you were confused when the team decided to dance to Dynamite by BTS because you would’ve thought that they would’ve wanted something more intense, but their reasoning was that they wanted to have fun on stage with Minho for one last time.

“Hey, I think the team is about to perform.” Jungeun points towards the stage, and you see the familiar figures of the dance team. Minho is front and center, but your eyes travel towards Hyunjin, who’s on Minho’s left. Sitting there in the audience, you anxiously wait for the music to start. This was the last time your brother was going to be dancing with this team before he goes off on tour as a backup dancer, and you just hope this doesn’t mean that this will be the last time you watch the team dance.

Once the music starts playing, you block out everything else around you and focus on the dance. You’ve seen this dance so many times, but every time you become mesmerized with their moves. It’s refreshing to see them dance with this concept, and you’re loving the way everyone’s expression is showing that they’re having fun on the stage. Like Hyunjin wanted, you kept your eyes on him, watching him do the moves like they were nothing. Though, you did tear your eyes away from him to watch Felix do that one flip that makes you worried all the time, and to watch Minho’s solo. Aside from those instances, your eyes were glued to Hyunjin. If you were to describe his movements, you would say he was like water. Every single move he made was elegant and flowed nicely.

Once the performance had ended, you quickly stood up and loudly cheered for them, and you didn’t miss the moment when you caught Hyunjin’s eyes and he sent you a wink. This only caused for you to cheer for them even louder. Watching them leave, you dismiss yourself from Jungeun, and make your way back to the team. As soon as you reach the boys, you instantly pull Minho into a hug, “You guys were phenomenal. You had the whole audience cheering for you.” Pulling back from your brother, a different pair of arms wrap around you.

“Thanks Y/n.” Taking this moment as a chance, you tightly hug Hyunjin.

Your time with the team is cut short as they’re called back onto the stage for the announcement of the results. Making your way back to your seat, you nervously wait for the announcements to begin.

“Alrighty everyone, are you guys ready for the announcements?” Cheers fill up the auditorium as everyone wants to know the results.

“I guess that settles it, starting off with 10th place…” There were only a total of 15 dance teams, so there was a very high chance that The Snipers at least placed. When the MC announced a different team as 10th, you let out a big sigh, and you could hear Jungeun chuckle at you, but you chose to ignore it, focusing your attention on the MC. Every time the MC announces the placement of a team, you become even more anxious because now third place was about to get announced and the team hasn’t been announced yet.

“And in third place, we have…Trailblazers!”

“You and the others must be nervous.” You can only shake your head as response to Jungeun.

“Coming in second place, we have…Revolution X!” You had thought Revolution X’s performance was good especially with Kino’s solo, but not as great as The Snipers of course. The Snipers thought of Revolution X as their major competition, so maybe they had a chance at getting first.

“And last, but certainly not least, coming in first, we have…drum roll please.” The auditorium fills up with the sound of beats as everyone is anticipating the winners.

“The Snipers!” They did it, they won. You jump out your seat and loudly cheer for your boys. On stage the team is all huddled up together with Minho in the center, jumping up and down, and you wish that you could join in with them, but you’re also alright with just watching them from the sidelines, like always.

Instead of meeting in the dressing room, you meet up with the team outside in the parking lot. Jungeun had tagged along with you, which you didn’t mind since she knew the members of the team. Upon seeing the team, you run towards them, jumping on your brothers back.

“You guys did it! I told you, you were going to win!”

“Alright, alright. I just won and you’re already trying to kill me, get off.” Hesitantly, you get off of Minho’s back, but you don’t miss the smile that’s on his face, so it makes up for it. Your vision darkens when you feel something on top of your head cover your eyes, pulling up the unknown object, you see Hyunjin smiling brightly at you. Realizing that the object was Hyunjin’s bucket hat, you adjust it to sit right on your head as Hyunjin exclaims to you, “We did it, Y/n. We got first!” He then grabs onto your forearms and makes you jump around with him. The sounds of yours and his laughs are mixed together, and it makes you feel light on your feet. Eventually the two of you settle down, and Hyunjin finally realizes that there was someone behind you.

“Jungeun!” Leaving your side, Hyunjin goes off to talk to her. Before you can even think of anything, you’re being whisked away by your brother, “C’mon slow poke, we got to get going to the restaurant.” You don’t even manage to bid a goodbye to Jungeun as your brother pulls you towards his car.

You and Minho were the first ones to arrive at the restaurant, going up to claim your reservation. One by one the members of the team, came in filling up the seats at the tables. So far, the seat in front of you remained empty, and you hoped that Hyunjin was going to occupy it. When Hyunjin arrives at the restaurant, you see that he’s brought a surprise with him.

“Hey guys, you know Jungeun. It’s okay if she hangs out with us, right?”

“The more the merrier,” someone who you can’t register says, as you try to figure out why Jungeun had come. The seat in front of you becomes occupied by Jungeun as Hyunjin grabs another chair and sets it to the right of her. ‘Ah, he’s such a gentleman.’ Though, you couldn’t help but feel a little bit disappointed that he didn’t sit in front of you.

The dinner was amazing, and you weren’t talking about the food. Everyone was in such a good mood that you didn’t even realize that you guys had been sitting at the restaurant for almost two hours. San is in the middle of telling a story about the disaster of time when him and Wooyoung went on a double date when Hyunjin got up from his seat.

“Hey guys, I’m gonna head out early.” He motions towards Jungeun who has also gotten up from her seat and that’s when reality hits you. Hyunjin was the one that invited Jungeun to come out tonight. He was winking at her, not you. You never had a chance with Hyunjin. There will always be girls like Jungeun and guys like Hyunjin want girls like her, not you. In Hyunjin’s eyes, you’ll always just be Minho’s sibling, the person that just tags along with the dance team. Any chance of hope that you thought you had didn’t exist. Hyunjin was just being Hyunjin. He was just being playful with you without realizing the things that he did to you.

Now that you think about it, you couldn’t believe you missed the signals; more like you chose to ignore them. You can’t say that you missed the small interactions that the two had at every dance competition, like this one time you were looking for Minho, but when you turned the corner Jungeun was leaning against the wall while Hyunjin had a hand propped up against the same wall next to her. You had just tried to explain to yourself that they were just having a normal conversation. Or that one time, you saw a familiar sweater Jungeun had on and assumed that they just had the same sweater. For every situation you had made an excuse to calm your delusional mind, but now as you sit there in the middle of the restaurant and watch the two of them, you can’t ignore the painful feeling in your chest that’s starting to form.

“Boo, can’t you spend a different night with your girl? This will our last time hanging out with this group.”

“Oh leave him be Wooyoung, you’re just jealous that he has someone and you don’t.” San says.

“And if I am?” His question makes everyone, but you laugh. That’s just because you’re too focused on Hyunjin.

“I’ll take you out another night Wooyoung, don’t worry.” Hyunjin sends Wooyoung a wink, and in returns he gets a flying kiss.

Laughing, “Anyways, we’re going to go. Don’t have to much fun without me.”

“Bye guys!” Jungeun bids the rest of you goodbye before she walks out the door Hyunjin is holding for her.

Your eyes follow the couple through the window as they walk away from the restaurant, and you wish that you could say that you didn’t see the way he playfully wrapped his arm around her. Gone from your line of vision, you tear your eyes away from the window and tune yourself back into the story San is telling the others. However, the image of Hyunjin with Jungeun is the only thing going through your mind, so you can’t even bother to focus at all. Instead you choose to swirl your straw around in your drink, doing all you can to think of something else.

“Are you okay?” Minho’s soft voice breaks you out of your thoughts.

“Hmm? Oh, uh yeah, I’m fine,” you answer indifferently.

Nudging you with his elbow, he gives you a concerned look, and in that instance, you felt like you wanted to cry even more because now your brother was worried about you. The last thing you wanted to do was ruin what is supposed to be a good night for him. “You want to go home?”

Shaking your head, “No, you shouldn’t have to leave early because of me, you should be celebrating with the rest of the team.”

“Y/n, you’re my sibling. You come first, no matter what and I can tell that you’re not okay. C’mon get up.” You and Minho had weird ways of showing it, but when it comes down to moments like these, you knew that you two loved each other. Hyunjin may be unobtainable, but as long as you had Minho by your side, you knew you would be fine.

As the two of you get up, Minho speaks to the rest of the team, “I’m sorry guys, but the life of the party is going to have to leave early, something came up.” The group boos at him, but eventually lets him leave. Silently, you bid the others goodbye, ignoring the concerned look Felix gives you.

The ride back home is silent, which is how you preferred it because you think if Minho had mentioned anything that you would’ve been full on sobbing, and that’s something you’d rather save for your pillowcase. You were 100% sure that Minho knew about Hyunjin and Jungeun, and you’re not sure if you’re glad that he didn’t tell you earlier or not. You know he had the best intentions. Looking out the window, you watch as the lights flash by and you internally laugh at yourself. You look like someone who’s in a sad music video, ‘pathetic.’

A/N: we’re half way through the series, yay! I've never seen anyone mention Kim Lip as a “heather” but I love her and think she would be one, so I had to include her. like always, feel free to let me know what you guys think

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aomine-ryo · 4 years

Note

Um, hello I’d like to ask, since your scenario requests are open, a little scenario with Aomine (Or any GoM+Kagami of choice) based on the song “Heather” by Conan Gray? (It could be about Momoi or another girl) If possible, make it extremely angst with a happy ending? I’m sorry if it’s too specific or too vague and you don’t need to do this but I thought it’d be nice. Keep up the good work regardless!✨💖

Ahhh I love conan’s music so I should be thanking you for this request!! I hope you like it xx

Scenario: Aomine Daiki x Reader based on “Heather” by Conan Gray

You had a crush on Aomine Daiki. Who wouldn’t? He’s tall, athletic, and a smooth talker— it’s so incredibly easy to fall for him. Your feelings for him blossomed almost instantly when you first laid eyes on him in your classroom at the start of your first year at Touou. He sat at the desk behind you and he would often ask to borrow your pencils during class, which allowed you to casually strike up a conversation with him by joking that he never has his own pencil.

Over time, the two of you became quite close. You wouldn’t talk to him much out of class, because both of you had other things to do, but in class you two were inseparable. As you grew closer, you couldn’t help but wonder if he felt the same way you did.

“Hey, you and Aomine are getting really close, huh?” one of your friends pointed out to you as you walked around the school courtyard during break.

The mere sound of his name caused your heart to race. “Yeah, I guess. We only talk in class though,” you shrugged, being careful not to show that you had a crush on him because word spreads fast in your school.

“You two look cute together,” she said to you out of nowhere, causing you to almost choke on the water you were sipping.

“W-What?”

“It’s just a thought, you probably don’t like him anyways,” she continued nonchalantly, just speaking whatever came to her mind, “one of the girls in our class was telling me how he’s always smiling when you speak to him.”

“Why is everyone watching us? That’s so weird,” you said coolly, though it did make you happy that your friend also thought that you two would be a great pair— which encouraged you to shoot your shot with him.

Your friend shrugged, “Class gets boring sometimes.” There was a small silence between you two as she looked up at the cloudy sky and sighed, “Too bad he has a girlfriend though.”

Just like that, all your hopes came shattering down around you. The fluttering in your chest came to a halt and everything felt heavy. “He does?” you were able to say, doing your best not to scream in frustration.

“Yeah, you didn’t know? That girl, Momoi, from class 3. She’s gorgeous, I think even I might have a crush on her,” your friend joked.

You forced a small chuckle in response, unable to stop your mind from spiralling. It made sense that he had a girlfriend. You couldn’t be mad at him for having one because well, he was never yours to begin with; it just hurt.

When you got back to class to resume the second half of your school day, you did your best to act like everything was normal while you talked to Aomine. It didn’t help that just seeing his face made you want to burst into tears, but you held them back, telling yourself that you’ll have a good cry to yourself when you get back home.

The school day finally came to an end and you bid your usual goodbyes to your friends and Aomine before heading off to the bus stop near school. You were finally alone for the first time that day, and you couldn’t help but let a few tears slip out as you pulled your school blazer closer to you for warmth. It was unbelievably cold that afternoon, and you cursed your past self for not remembering to bring a warmer piece of clothing in the middle of winter.

“Boo!” a deep voice suddenly said from behind you as a pair of hands gripped your shoulders, causing you to gasp and jolt your body at the surprise. Before turning around, you quickly wiped the tears off of your face and put on a smile.

“Aomine! You scared me,” you chuckled, voice raspy even though you were only crying for a few seconds. “Don’t you have basketball practice?”

“Never mind that,” Aomine said, looking at your trembling body, “you’re shivering. Did you not bring a sweater?”

You shook your head in response, “I forgot it this morning.”

Aomine sighed and dug around his backpack before pulling out a large black sweater and handing it to you. “You got lucky that I have an extra one. I can’t have my pencil supplier dying of hypothermia,” Aomine joked as you pulled his sweater over your head. It smelled just like his cologne, with a hint of fabric softener— and suddenly you had this bittersweet feeling overcome you. You would have been over the moon if he had done this the day before, but you couldn’t enjoy it as much after what your friend had told you earlier. “Hey, it looks better on you than it does on me— that’s not fair,” he sighed.

“Thanks,” you said with a smile, unable to even look him in the eye as you internally panicked at his words.

“Dai-chan!” a high-pitched voice called out from a distance. You looked over and saw a pink-haired girl that wore the same uniform jogging towards you. She was undoubtedly pretty. As she got closer and closer to you, you started to take note of her features; her bright eyes, smooth skin and luscious hair were nothing short of beautiful. Almost instinctively, you glanced at Aomine, and his eyes were glued onto her, even when she finally came to a halt and stood in front of him. He was completely mesmerised by her and you couldn’t blame him— which made you even more frustrated somehow. “It’s so cold,” she pouted, before hugging Aomine tightly.

A smile began to form on Aomine’s lips as he returned the warm embrace, wrapping his long arms around her small body. You felt an ache in your chest as you watched Aomine place a small kiss on the top of her head, wishing it was you he was holding instead of her.

“Oh let me introduce you two,” Aomine said, finally looking at you. “Satsuki, this is Y/N, she’s one of my classmates. Y/N, this is my girlfriend, Momoi Satsuki.”

A small part of you was hoping that what your friend told you wasn’t true, but hearing the words come out of his own mouth felt like your heart was getting repeatedly run over by a bus. “H-Hi, nice to meet you,” your voice trembled.

“Oh God, you’re shivering! Are you sure you should be out here? My house is nearby, you can warm up there if you’d like,” Momoi offered. Of course she was incredibly sweet too.

You spotted your bus finally approaching the stop, and you couldn’t be more relieved to see it. “It’s alright, my bus is here. Thank you though,” you smiled at her before waving goodbye to the two of them as you got into the bus. Once you were settled, you peered out of the window, watching the two of them interact with each other with smiles on their faces. They began to walk together and you noticed Aomine put his arm around her shoulder as the bus slowly began to drive away. You felt your throat tighten up as you hugged Aomine’s sweater closer to your body, begging your heart to get over him because there was no way he’d leave someone as perfect as Momoi for you.

For the next few weeks, you were able to contain yourself, finally feeling yourself slowly getting over it, and you even returned his sweater because it pained you to keep it. You’d notice him walking to the canteen with Momoi during break, which hurt you at first but it fizzled out as days passed by. You were glad that Aomine was happy, you wished that you were the one making him feel that way, but it wasn’t. The two of you paired up for a task in art class where you had to draw each other. “Ugh they make us do this every year,” Aomine groaned as you turned your desk around so the two of you were facing each other.

The two of you began to draw in silence. However, every time you’d look up at his face, you’d feel that familiar heartache, which was awful because it meant that you weren’t getting over him like you convinced yourself you were. Every time you’d look up at him, you wanted to scream that you liked him, but you did your best to tell yourself that you didn’t.

Aomine began to chuckle, “Oh God, I’m so bad at art,” you didn’t like him. “You’re nowhere near as ugly as my drawing,” you didn’t like him. “I hope you don’t hate me after seeing my work—”

“I like you!” you suddenly blurted out, before immediately clasping your hand over your mouth when you realised what you had said.

Aomine’s smile faded away as he wore a confused expression on his face, “What?”

“I’m sorry, just forget I said that, please,” you said quickly, as you avoided all eye contact with him and pretended to be invested in your art.

“What do you mean you like me?”

“Please just drop it. I don’t know what I was saying,” you mumbled, cursing yourself for saying something.

The bell rang for break and your teacher left the class after telling everyone to finish their work by the next class. Your classmates around you got up from their seats and began to move all over, but you and Aomine were frozen in place. After a long moment of silence the navy haired boy finally spoke up, “I like you too.”

You looked up at him with eyes as wide as saucers. Did you hear him right? “Don’t say that,” you said in what was barely a whisper, knowing that lies would hurt more than him just rejecting you. “What about Momoi?”

“I didn’t tell anyone yet, but we broke up. She was my best friend before we dated, and we realised it was better that way,” Aomine explained. “Besides, she’s still hung up over one of my friends from middle school.”

You couldn’t believe your ears. This had to be a lie. Nothing is ever this easy. “Okay, but there’s no way you like me,” you said to him, ridding yourself of any filters because you just wanted things to be clear.

“What’s not to like? You’re one of the few people I enjoy talking to. I don’t know if you noticed, but you’re the only person in this class that I actually talk to.”

The butterflies in your stomach seemed to return as your heart began to race. It was real. He liked you. Your feelings weren’t unrequited after all. “You have no idea how happy I am right now,” you gushed, colour rising to your cheeks as you tried to collect your thoughts. For the first time in a while, the thought of Aomine wasn’t painful.

The two of you went on a date after school to a nearby cafe. As you walked there in the chilly winter weather, Aomine put his arm around your shoulder. And after ages of wondering what this very action would feel like, you finally had your answer; it felt warm and loving and it was even better than you could possibly imagine.

#kuroko no basket #kurokos basketball #aomine daiki #aomine daiki x reader #kuroko no basket imagines #kuroko no basket x reader #kuroko no basquet #kuroko no basuke #knb aomine #aomine x reader #aomine

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yabakuboi · 4 years

Text

They’re three years old when Katsuki bounds up to Izuku on the first day of class to show him his All Might action figure. It bends at the knees and elbows, and all the little costume details are painted on with great care. Izuku ooh’s and aah’s over it accordingly, and Katsuki grins at him, offering to let Izuku hold it as long as he’s careful.

Izuku gingerly takes it in his little hands, and lets Katsuki manipulate the little doll until it looks like All Might’s jumping through the air.

“Press the button,” Katsuki commands, and Izuku does.

“Never fear, for I am here!” All Might’s tinny voice booms, and Izuku gasps.

Katsuki’s grin is big and infectious. “He’s really cool, right?! You like him? Let’s be friends!” he says, because they’re three years old and it’s as easy as that.

In that moment, something warm and heavy blooms in Izuku’s chest.

DAISY Izuku, at the age of four, takes a bite of rice and immediately starts coughing. When it’s finally over, his throat hurts a little and a tiny little flower sits bloody in his palm, barely even a bud, its white petals closed up tight and dripping with red.

“Oh, Izuku,” Inko says. She picks up the flower bud, and it stains the tips of her fingers.

“What is it?” Izuku asks.

“It’s a sign,” she says tearfully. “You love someone very much, who doesn’t love you back. And that love will hurt you, unless you let it go.”

“Oh.” He takes it back, holding it between his fingers. The corners of his eyes suddenly burn and the urge to cry floods him. He turns and buries his head into his mom’s shoulder. “Why doesn’t Kacchan love me?” he cries. “Is it because I’m quirkless?”

“Oh, Izuku,” Inko sighs, petting his hair as he cries. She holds him tightly and whispers, “Don’t let it go too far. Don’t let it strangle your heart. Please, please don’t ever fall in love.”

Izuku is dimly aware that his mom is also crying, he voice far away. Instead, all he can think about is Katsuki, bright, amazing, powerful Katsuki who pushes him down and laughs, but always lets Izuku follow him home.

DAFFODILS “Of course, I’m fine!” Katsuki snaps, standing up in the stream. “I’m not some quirkless Deku who can’t do anything.”

He’s dripping wet and scowling with embarrassment, but he’s fine. Izuku presses his hands to his shirt, hunching his shoulders.

“Okay,” he says timidly. “It was scary, but I’m glad you’re okay, Kacchan.”

Katsuki huffs and grabs Izuku’s arm, dragging him from the stream. Izuku shoes squelch, soaked, as they climb back up the hill, and Katsuki snatches Izuku as he stumbles.

“Can’t you walk, you baby?” he says, pulling Izuku up.

Izuku turns his head and coughs as quietly as he can, his throat burning. There are three little yellow petals in his palm when he’s done.

“What’s that?” Katsuki demands, his hand a brand around Izuku's wrist. The other boys peek over his shoulder, and Izuku stares at the ground.

“N-Nothing,” he stutters. “Just some flower petals.”

They snort and laugh, teasing Izuku for picking flowers. Katsuki stares him in the eye, before releasing him and turning away. The skin of Izuku’s wrist is hot where Katsuki had touched him.

HEATHER Katsuki pushes Izuku into the dirt and Izuku stays there, and Izuku throws away one bloody, purple petal. For the next four years, he doesn’t cough up so much as a single leaf and Izuku’s mom breathes a sigh of relief.

CALLA LILY He avoids Katsuki and Katsuki avoids him in turn. Middle school is lonely and loud, but Izuku keeps to his notebooks. He's fine with that. Fine with dreaming. If something is sitting, still, a stunted, heavy thing in his chest, he pays it no mind.

And in that one moment of weakness, when he'd seen Katsuki crouched down on the sidewalk in Izuku's path home, feeding a stray kitten, and Izuku had coughed up long, bell shaped petal... Well, Izuku had decided not to think about it.

"Never fall in love," his mom had said.

LIALACS He's on his way home, tired after such a strange day, Katsuki's yelling still ringing in his ears, and Katsuki's desperate face asking him for help burning in his mind. His chest heaves suddenly, and his lungs ache, and his already abused throat screams.

Izuku coughs up three little purple flowers. They sit innocently in his palm. By the time All Might catches up to him, Izuku's already thrown them in the trash, along with a bloody napkin.

GARDENIA Izuku knows he may be in trouble, staring at the bloody bud in his palm, the sleeve of his UA uniform stained red. He clenches his fist over it, and his hands are strong enough now to crush it. He doesn't.

HYACINTH They're barely back in the dorms, aching and awaiting their early morning house arrest when Izuku has to stop. Katsuki pauses as well, and Izuku has to turn to the side to hide the tiny blue flowers in his palm.

"Don't tell me you're that weak, Deku," Katsuki huffs.

Izuku wipes the blood quickly from his mouth and hides his hands behind his back before he faces him.

"Are you concerned, Kacchan?" Izuku says with a weary smile.

Katsuki scowls and whirls around. Izuku watches his back, the flower petals wet with blood on his finger tips.

SUNFLOWER Katsuki turns to him, grin triumphant and challenging, and Izuku is struck so suddenly that Katsuki sees him that he's scrambling for the bathroom and bowing over the sink. He heaves, tears streaming down his face, until the white porcelain is yellow and red.

There are fifty petals in the sink. Izuku scoops them up and counts them each before he throws them in the trash. The tears haven't stopped just yet.

"Never fall in love."

Izuku wishes Katsuki had made it a little harder for him.

ASTER The day they graduate is cold but sunny, and Izuku has to excuse himself to the bathroom three times during the day. The flowers in his hands are beautiful, red as they are from Izuku's raw throat. People have gotten used to his raspy voice.

His mom looks at him sometimes, like she knows, like she's already mourning him, but they don't talk about it.

Izuku collects bloody bouquets, and watches silently as Katsuki's shoulders grow broader, as Katsuki's back straightens, as Katsuki's voice deepens.

CARNATIONS "We'll be unstoppable," Katsuki grins, and Izuku just nods along. The years have stolen Izuku's words slowly, and he's fine with that. No one seems to notice the difference, and he's fine with that too. He gets to stand by Katsuki's side as his hero partner. He's happy.

He finds flowers on his pillow, blue and white and pink, and always, always stained red.

"Never fall in love," his mother had told him.

This love may hurt, but Izuku soaks it up anyways.

ROSES The first red petals brings fresh tears to his eyes. He can feel the thorns in his throat, choking him, and he lets himself weep for a moment, weep for the life he'll lose, and the dreams he'll leave unfulfilled.

The flowers are soft as snow on his skin, and he thumps along the edge of the rose. He almost can't see his blood between the folds.

His mother said to never fall in love, and a part of him wishes he'd listened.

But mostly, he's just tired.

Blood loss. Oxygen deprivation. Each breath is a battle. It hurts to walk, to stand, to breathe. He's going to miss his morning shift. Katsuki will be pissed off, but Izuku stays curled under the covers, coughing weakly with each flower that blooms on his tongue. He closes his eyes.

Dying is a cold, lonely affair.

So Izuku sleeps. He dreams of warm hands on his face, and voice calling to him. He can't really hear the words.

"Don't ever fall in love," his mother had said. She had been crying.

Izuku takes a breath.

It's the easiest he's taken in years, filling his lungs despite the aching in his ribs. It feels like relief, his chest light. The growing, choking thing inside of him, that had wound its way around his heart and into his body loosens, and then withers away.

"You idiot. You absolute fucking idiot."

Izuku opens his eyes. Katsuki is glaring at him, tears tracking wet paths across his scowling face. He's ugly when he cries. Izuku thinks he's the most beautiful thing he's ever seen.

"I hate you," Katsuki sobs. "You goddamn idiot."

"Kacchan," Izuku says.

It's the first word that's gotten past the flowers in his mouth in nearly a year, and he can't help the way he smiles, or the way he hand reaches up to cup Katsuki's face, wiping away the tears. Katsuki sobs a little harder.

"You're so stupid," Katsuki hisses. "Waiting for me all this fucking time. Waiting for ME. What were you thinking?"

"That I love you," Izuku says.

There's still rose petals between his teeth, bittersweet on his tongue.

"So you were going to die? Stupid fucking Deku."

Izuku grins. "That's me."

And Katsuki huffs, pulling Izuku a little closer where he's lifted him into his arms, and presses his face to Izuku's still beating heart.

"I can't believe I'm in love with you. Stupid Deku."

Izuku chokes a little on a laugh, his body aching.

In his closed palm, there's still a rose sitting, pretty in his fingers. He turns his hand over and drops it, watches as it falls to the floor amongst the countless others and instead presses his fingers into Katsuki's hair, holding him close and breathing in deeply.

#bkdk #bakudeku #izukatsu #dribble drabble #my fic #originally a twitter thread but i liked it so much so HERE #hanahaki au fam watch out

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todoshotoki · 4 years

Text

𝙋𝘼𝙄𝙍𝙄𝙉𝙂: bakugou katsuki x reader

𝙏𝙍𝙄𝙂𝙂𝙀𝙍 𝙒𝘼𝙍𝙉𝙄𝙉𝙂: depression, self-loathing, unrequited love

𝘼𝙐𝙏𝙃𝙊𝙍'𝙎 𝙉𝙊𝙏𝙀: i found about this song recently and i’ve never cried to a song so much before because it just awoke some past experiences ??

thanks for 100 followers :)

...

i still remember, third of december

it was a cold evening as you were heading back home from ua highschool. you had left your sweater back at home and you were hugging your arms around yourself. your teeth were chattering as you speed-walked to your bus stop.

you bundled yourself up on the bench, rubbing your hands up and down your arms in effort to create heat. you plugged in your earbuds, listening to the quiet acoustics while looking at the people passing by (all correctly equipped with warm, thick clothing).

“oi!” you jolted as you felt your left earbud being snatched out of your ear and being promptly yelled at afterward. you met the blonde’s crimson eyes next to you while slightly dazed. “don’t fucking ignore me!”

me in your sweater

“here, you were shaking like a lost dog,” he shoved a sweater in your lap and turned to look toward his phone once again. “huh?” you were about to protest but he shot you down quickly, “i have my own plus i don’t want you to think that i had some sort of favor to return after training this morning.”

you said it looked better, on me, than it did you

you gawked a little at the red and black sweater before nodding and thanking him. you slipped the material over your uniform which fit you a little on the bigger side. “don’t thank me and don’t bother returning it... it looks better on you anyway.” he grunts, getting up to go on the bus as it rolled up to the curb.

it smelled like him – like caramel. your heart did summersaults in your chest as you wondered how it would feel to be held by him or even to be his special someone. you stepped onto the bus shortly after him, peeking a bit at him as you passed by to your seat by the window.

only if you knew, how much i liked you

you seemed to adore him after he had that exchange with him. everything made sense, you deemed him a “tsundere” and began to watch his mannerisms and slowly but surely fall further into fascination. you didn’t notice yourself doing until the signs were waving in your face.

there was no way to reverse it, it was a blooming infatuation that was spreading from your chest to the smallest nooks and crannies of your very body. your hands started to become sweaty, your face flared up, your knees buckled. it was an anxiety you had never seen before.

but I watch your eyes, as he walks by, what a sight for sore eyes

“bakugo,” you had your hands behind your back and your feet rocking back and forth as an anxious tendacy, “do you want to come with me and a few friends to a movie on sunday?” he hadn’t even gone as far as to spare a glance at you, “no,”

you slightly frowned, “okay, tell me if you change your mind,” you turned back to your chair and to say you were bummed out was an understatement. that’s when you the class’s sunshine had walked into the room, “hey bakubro!” the redhead made a beeline for his desk and bakugo promptly looked up at the boy in annoyance, “what do you want, shitty hair?!”

“we still on for sunday?” kirishima places his hands on the blonde’s desk leaning in with his toothy grin. “yeah, yeah, don’t ask me again or you can forget about it!” your frown deepened. kirishima had beat you to it.

it only made sense. he was a happy virus. you pursed your lips ceasing your eavesdropping and burried your head into your desk.

brighter than a blue sky, he's got you mesmerized while i die

this wasn’t the last time you had tried to hang out with bakugo. two out of five attempts had succeeded. the lastet one was with the whole class involved. momo was holding a get together for christmas before the holidays had started.

you had decided to dress to impress. bakugo clearly has standards and you need to meet them. you went out of your way to wear eyeliner, blush, and the whole extra mile. when you had arrived, it was mainly the early birds who had arrived. uraraka, midoriya, todoroki, kirishima, and iida has been there when you had arrived.

you had received compliments from all parties. “wow, you look really nice tonight! i wish i had done something like you and everyone else, i just came in an ugly sweater and old pants.” kirishima scratched his neck sheepishly.

“kaachan, you came!” midoriya’s outburst had shifted your gaze toward the door. he was wearing essentially the same thing that kirishima was wearing. he looks your direction.

he’s looking your direction! maybe you had finally-

“you’re wearing the sweater i gave you,” his words had cut you out of your thoughts as he walked beside kirishima. “oh-! this was your’s? i-i had been wondering where i got this from...” kirishima stammered. you had defaulted to escape the scene before you became more sad than you already had become.

as the party carried on, you couldn’t stop thinking about it, “he was wearing his sweater,” you thought, pouring yourself a drink. you hadn’t noticed the blonde slipping right beside you until a few whistles and snickering were heard. “hey, what’re you guys laughing about?!” bakugo had snapped.

“look up, blasty!” ashido says which you both reluctantly do.

a mistletoe was looming over your heads. you could feel your ears turn red as you realized the whole class was looking at you.

“bakugo, we don’t have to if you don’t want-“

why would you ever kiss me? i’m not even half, as pretty

he cut your sentence off with his lips on your’s. you had almost dropped the solo cup in your hand at the sweet taste of his chapstick. the hint of caramel you smelled as you two were so close, you felt so incredibly warm and longed for the kiss to last longer.

as you parted, you tried to stutter out a sentence but only mumbling left your lips. “that’s so cute!” you could hear hagakure squealing from the audience that had accumulated.

you didn’t feel happy about it. the stupid branch had grabbed more attention than you yourself as a person.

you gave him your sweater, it’s just polyester, but you like him better

you had gone home early that night. you claimed that you were tired and hadn’t planned to stay long anyways.

you sat in your bed with silent tears dribbling down your cheeks. the sweater that you had been given by bakugo was clenched betweeen your cold fingers. it had lost it’s smell- the smell of bakugo.

wish i were heather

you had dyed your naturally black hair to blonde by the time you got back from the holidays. you had kept the same winged eyeliner to help with your looks and hopefully show some type of attention.

you waited for bakugo to come in that morning. you had came early and as the students began to trickle in. you heard some cheering. you looked up from your book to your heart shattering.

watch as he stands with, him holding your hand

they were clearly dating. kirishima has acted as a docking station for the blonde who was more shy to the attention they were getting. the two of them had no objection to the dating rumors and confirmed them even. he had his hand in his. you knew bakugo was bisexual, you had a chance...

put your arm 'round his shoulder, now i’m getting colder

you had huddled up in your blankets and stared at the photo that bakugo had just posted on his instagram.

they were at a diner together, a smug smile on his face as he looked at his giddy boyfriend who was equally as happy to be with him. the caption: “eyes on the prize”.

you felt the tears bubble up again and you wiped your snot and tears with the same sweater that he had given you.

but how could i hate him? he’s such an angel

“(l/n)!” kirishima had entered the classroom that morning. you had your head down on the desk due to your restlessness last night. you peaked up at him, squinting at the bright light that had been shining through the windows. he had a candy bar in his hand and placed it right in front of you. “you look a little down today... you can talk to me if you want to.”

you pick up the candy bar, sitting up straight. “thank you, kiri. i really appreciate it.” you smile, trying your best to fake the lift in your eyes. “no problem,” he says and sits in his respective seat.

no matter how much you wanted to scream at him and ask him why he had ruined your life, you couldn’t do so he was the sunshine of the class after all.

but then again, kinda, wish he were dead, as he walks by

“hey, (l/n), it’s been a while. do you want to go to the new ramen shop that opened near your house?” kirishima asks as you were leaving together with bakugo on the other side of him. you shook your head, “no thanks,” not even an excuse out of you before you left his sight.

you hated him so much. how could someone just look at you like that? he knew how you looked at bakugo. i mean- he didn’t necessarily know that you had feelings but shit... the blatant gaze of pure adoration should’ve been a hint.

what a sight for sore eyes, brighter than a blue sky

the whole new dorm system had made everything so much worse for you. before, you could run home and forget about it by drowning yourself in whatever distraction you sought fit but now they were constantly around you.

he’s got you mesmerized while i die

the pda (mostly initiated by kirishima) had been accepted the whole class as a normal thing so if you were to say anything, you would definitely stick out. this resulted in you locking your bedroom door and not giving anyone a chance to interact with you outside of school. you began skipping out on events like going to the beach and instead stood in front of the mirror picking at the fat that was gathered up at your stomach.

why would you ever kiss me?

you wish these feelings would just rot. you wish it would just wither away. you wanted to run away, you wanted to give up, you wanted to just tell him.

“bakugou, i love you! i’ve loved you for months!”

you would cry but instead you were practicing in the mirror. your puffy eyes and bloated face making your heart drop. who were you kidding.

i’m not even half, as pretty

“(l/n),” bakugou had knocked on your door one day. your room was a mess: clothes scattered on the ground, textbooks thrown aside, random pens and food wrappers cluttering your desk. you almost wish you could jump off the balcony and take off to never see heights alliance again.

“what is it?” you call to the door after clearing your throat, listening closely waiting for him to say “i know you like me just stop stalking me”.

“do you happen to... have that sweater i gave you a few months back?”

you gave him your sweater

after that statement, jumping out the balcony seemed 1000x more appealing.

“yeah, um- hold on,” you got up from your bed and frowned at the sweater hanging on your desk chair. it had lost bakugou’s smell weeks ago but the fact that bakugou gave it to you never failed to make you smile.

you crack open the door and hand it to him through the slit. you didn’t want him seeing your room as it was right now.

you felt the fabric leave your fingertips. “thanks,” and with that he was off.

it’s just polyester, but you like him better

you desperately try to push the tears back into your eyes, denying the fact that you were crying over someone so stupid.

“you’re not crying! it’s just fabric! it’s just polyester!” your bottom lip trembled as you try to recompose yourself. your coping mechanism was gone.

i wish i were heather

“i wish i were kirishima,” the words had met your lips subconsciously. you clamped your hand over your mouth instantly regretting it. it was no secret you had been paying attention to kirishima in the past few weeks. he was everything bakugou could ever want.

he was brave, strong, and he dared to even go save bakugou from the league. without kirishima’s outstretched hand, bakugou might be in a different situation.

you had to tell bakugou. maybe the feelings would fade.

wish i were heather

today was the day. you had texted bakugou to meet you outside of the heights alliance gates at 6:30 that evening.

you were trembling. it was so obvious. it was a confession. bakugou probably had better things to do then stay around you. you gulped as you saw the blonde tuft of hair round the corner.

wish i were heather

“so why did you ask me to meet you here? i swear if this is a waste of my time...”

you hadn’t noticed how long you had just been staring into his eyes. you averted your eyes to the ground. the bubbling sensation of your throat cramping up, caused you to clear it with a thump to your chest.

you grew angry as you tried to choke it out of your throat.

“why would you ever kiss me?” you ball your fists and pursing your lips. bakugou’s eyes dilated, not knowing what to say, “what are you talking about-“

“that night! at the christmas party! couldn’t you see? i-“ you pause to wipe a tear from your eye. you shake your head, twisting up your face in a scowl, “i’m not even half as pretty any one else so why?!”

“half as pretty as who-?”

“you’re a real dumbass, y’know? for someone who gets high grades. you’re really fucking clueless.”

“i didn’t come here to get yelled at by some extra, okay?! if you have something to say that isn’t an insult then spit out.” he pulled at his shirt incredibly uncomfortable.

“you gave him your sweater that’s why you took it back to the other day, huh?” you said. “you’re getting worked up over that? it’s just polyester.”

there was nothing but your hitching and crying after he said that. he clicked his tongue and shook his head. “i’m leaving,” he turned away and you watched him walk away.

“but you like him better, wish i were...”

#my hero academia #boku no academia #boku no hero fanfic #bnha angst #bnha #kirishima eijirou #bnha bakugo katsuki #bnha bakugou #bnha oneshots #bnha bakushima #mha #mha eijirou #mha fanfiction #mha bakugo katsuki #mha bakugou

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alias-b · 4 years

Text

sins of my youth. 012

Billy Hargrove x OC! Evie Fenny~ Also posted to my AO3

Summary: It was common knowledge that Billy Hargrove hated Hawkins. Hated Cherry Lane. Even loathed the strange girl next door. Evie Fenny wasn’t too fond of the chaotic Cali transfer either. An awful high school tradition sparks a chain of events that changes everything, ultimately bringing two frayed souls together.

A/N: Hey all! Billy and Evie continue their strange mating ritual. TW: Mentions of past abuse and student/teacher relationship. Heavy petting. SMUT. Phone sex. ;)

TAG LIST OPEN. Chat with me if you have the time xoxo

Chapter 12: Cupid and Psyche

Evie groaned the next time she woke.

Pain blared like the morning sun streaming on her face. Flames licking supple cheeks.

Billy gone in the bed upon turning over.

His scent apparent all over her damn sheets. Seeped into the pillows. Aramis. Hairspray. Paco Rabanne Pour Homme. Evie wondered if Billy liked to leave parts of himself where he goes. An impression similar to hands in wet concrete.

Sometimes a warm body pressed up against you was the only thing reminding you that you were here.

She curled around his pillow to inhale. Felt butterflies flutter her stomach. Landing on delicate organs to decorate them in jewel toned wings. Iridescent glows that washed harsh reds away.

Evie wondered what it would be like to crystallize. Utterly.

Feet touched the floor to leave such fantasies aside. Those butterflies decayed upon seeing her face in the mirror. Hissing, fingertips gingerly touched the skin on fire. Upset welts around her puffy eye. Lungs gave a shudder before Evie was scrambling to replace the emptiness.

Needy fingers went for her drawer and pulled out a box labeled “FB + EF.” Pushed all the way in back hidden under sheer and lacy panties. Hands clicked around the little pieces of jewelry she wasn’t able to wear in the open until she lifted a brooch to the light. A sparkling ladybug.

Fredrick got for her during the first month of that magical summer. They went to some dirty adult party three cities away where people in their twenties and thirties were doing cocaine out in the open. Evie shared a tab of acid with Fredrick that unlocked her entire psyche. Draped herself into him to watch colors spin along the TV. Felt his hand palm her breast before they found a room.

“Do you think I’m fat?” Evie asked between kisses, coming down from her trip and sweltering with heat. Trembling too hard.

“What?” He actually laughed into her mouth, came out and pulled her body flush. “You’re not fat, love, you’re so beautiful.”

At the time, Evie wasn’t sure how that answer made her feel worse.

But, the lady bug pin was now scuttling into her stomach. She nearly broke the drawer with her clenched fists pushing it down.

Exhale.

Oh, how she moaned like a wanting slut that night. Rode Fredrick hard and turned over afterward for him. Started to cry when he tried to take her home afterwards because she didn’t want to go.

Didn't want the dreaming to end. She wanted to stay wrapped up in him forever.

It was their first fight. He screamed she was being a child and manipulating him. They both shouted about telling her mother the truth.

Evie really started to sob that she hated him and he just held her wrists and kissed her deeply. Softened suddenly as she fell into his arms. Told her she was too pretty to be so upset. That she had a hold on him. That he was starting to fall deeply and madly in love with her.

And that made her feel like a god.

They ended up back at his place. Evie got home the next day to Mona hiding her pack of smokes behind a picture of Dolly Parton. Not asking where her daughter had been all night. Just said to get ready for her next talent show.

Hungover, Evie still won the prize money that went into some new clothes, her future fund, and fresh paint for the salon. Talent scouts cooed to keep growing.

“Evie!” A knock startled her daydreams. The drawer smacked shut. Heather poked her face in and frowned. “Oh, honey...you need some more ice on that. We made pancakes.”

“We?”

“Steve and I. Billy went home to shower, he had to give Max a ride somewhere. Come on, eat some breakfast.”

Evie changed, rubbing her throat on the way out. Steve blinked at her and tried not to wince.

“I know it’s not pretty.” Evie pressed her lips.

“You saw me after Hargrove kicked my ass.” Steve reached over the little island counter to give her chin this encouraging tap. Darling smile curling. Heather put a big plate down so Evie slid onto a stool.

“Thanks, sorry I passed out last night.”

“Ice cream will be a good pick me up later.” Heather kissed Evie’s good side. “Want us to stick around today?”

“Ah, we can hang out tonight. I gotta clean up and I wanted to go talk to Billy about something.” Evie took a bite and sighed. Steve and Heather exchanged looks. “Nothing happened. Perverts.”

A beat before laughter erupted. It felt so needed this hour

** ** **

Evie tried to use makeup to cover the easier welts. Felt useless with her eye socket the size and color of Jupiter. A huff before she flicked a brush aside and stood. She left Blue on the couch before venturing out. Frost and slush marked the unforgiving winter outside. Evie had waited until Neil’s car left and crossed over. Knocked.

Susan poked her head out.

“Oh, Evie, I... Dear, what happened?” Susan’s wedding ring caught the light as she touched her lips with worry. Red hair piled up upon her head and a sea foam sweater dress.

“I slipped on the ice.” Lashes batted. “Sorry, I caught you in the middle of something.”

“No, I was unpacking the last few boxes in our garage. Shifting some furniture. Think we’re finally moved in. I was just going to change and catch the bus, our shelves are bare.” Susan held the door back.

“I was here to see Billy, is he…?” Evie trailed off when she heard it. The blasting music from the farthest bedroom. Shut tight.

“Yes, in his room. Evie, he’s… He’s in a mood and might not come out.”

“A mood?” Evie studied the woman. Thin hands clasping so hard that they paled.

“Maybe a friendly face will be good.” Susan decided, not convinced but too polite to turn Evie away now. “Go on ahead.”

It appeared Max was out with friends. Susan disappeared into the kitchen after gesturing so Evie crossed down the hallway. Knocked and wasn’t heard. Pounded harder.

“I’m busy, Susan!” Came the bark.

“Not Susan.” Evie shot right back. There was a curse before some scrambling and the door yanked open. Billy in a white tank tucked into some jeans with grey socks. Lax. Chain shifting as he breathed. “You look real busy.”

Eyes screwed up at her. Seemingly irritated.

“What are you doing here?”

“You left, I just...wanted to hang out. Talk, I mean.” Her feet shuffled before she matched his taller posture. Chin lifting.

“Getting clingy on me.”

“As if you have any business talking about that.” She joked, arms crossing.

“I spent the night in your bed. We shot the shit, I’m not your boyfriend.” His clipped tone etched some surprise over Evie’s face.

“Okay, asshole, when and where did I ask if you wanted to be my damn boyfriend? You going to ease up a little bit? I don’t need that.” Evie flared and he sucked in his cheeks before pulling her into his room and shutting the door. “The fuck is your problem all the sudden?”

Billy had gone to turn the music down a bit, head craning to see her pressed into his door. One of his hands was idly rubbing his ribs. Some of their anger died. A tense expression crossed his face.

Evie realized she’d never really seen the inside of his room. Smelled like Billy. Smoke, hairspray, and cologne. Random plates and beer cans with smashed cigarette buds. A little vanity made of crates. Near empty shelves. Weights laying round. Laundry mostly in a basket propped up in the corner. Curtains that were really clipped up sheets. Something somber about it all. Like nothing was his. Like he had to make the space livable. Bearable.

“I don’t plan for guests.” He plucked up a pack of cigarettes.

“Bullshit, I see girls climbing in and out of your window.” Evie lightened the tension. Billy hitched as if he might chuckle. Felt guilty instead.

“Well, help yourself to a seat.” Billy kicked back into a beaten brown couch so Evie nudged her shoes aside and joined him on the other end. “Well?” He lit himself a smoke and scratched his chin, eyes on the window.

“About last night, that stuff I said...”

“Weren’t drunk so you can’t take it back.” The white hot cherry pointed to her.

“I’m just saying," Evie gestured at air, "it was a lot.”

“Me beating the fuck out of our second period teacher was a lot.” Billy got his cigarette snatched before he plucked it back. “Think of your pretty voice, yeah?”

Evie pouted, made this rumbling sound at him before she sat back.

It clicked in Billy’s head.

“You’re looking to drown your sorrows. Finally something I can really help with.” Billy reached over the couch and came up with a bottle of amber liquid. There was an unmistakable sound of the front door closing, signalling Susan had left.

“Heather and Steve wouldn’t approve.” Evie took the bottle anyways. Gulped.

“Easy, jesus.” Billy drank after. One quick swig. Watched her bring her legs up to cross them. Leggings and a thick, violet sweater with wool socks. Curls spilling. “Small drinks, don’t be an idiot.”

“Strong words from you.” She sipped that time. Savored the woody burn as it went down.

“Don’t I know it?” He puffed. Evie offered him the bottle and sighed, relaxing before she spoke.

“Did Fredrick cry when you hit him?”

“Like a bitch.” Billy exhaled smoke. “Drove past his place after I dropped Max off at her friend’s. Cleared the fuck out.”

“Oh.” It still ached. This person who touched her life was suddenly gone. Maybe never to return. Like her father. It should have been a fucking comfort and instead everything ugly swimming under Evie’s skin pushed to the surface.

“Did you like it?” A whisper.

“I always do.” He spoke, drank about it. Evie thought back to leveling Tannen’s face. Silently agreed. Wondered when he would break his chains to get revenge.

“Do you think I’m fat?” Her tone droned next.

“Why are you asking me stupid questions, Evie?” Billy’s cigarette was hanging lazily from his lips. Bold, crystalline eyes appeared bored at her as an arm came up on the couch. She blinked at him.

Evie liked that reply. She was fat. She was pretty, too. She hoped. They can coexist. Billy could just be crass about it. Obscene.

She enjoyed that about him, too. Even if she wouldn't admit it.

“Do you think about fucking me when you masturbate?” She said in the same controlled tone.

Billy choked, almost inhaling his lit stick, and spit it on the floor. Still coughing, his head snapped with bulging eyes. Stepping on the cigarette to kick it under the beaten sofa.

Pride swelled.

“What the fuck, Evie?” He set the liquor aside. Evie was on her feet lightning quick so he got up also. Just as quick. “Hey, why’d you come here?”

She had the door open when his palm smacked it shut. Evie spun there, pressed between him and the wood. Billy breathing into her space. One arm still outstretched. Too intent.

Evie thought for a moment, she heard his pulse begin to race.

Her heavy eyes flashed at him. Waiting there for something to crack.

And then trembling fingers dipped and clicked the lock on the doorknob without breaking eye contact.

This shrewd look crossed his eyes. Filled his whole expression with neon light.

God damn, he was just too beautiful. Stunning like ethereal Cupid about to revive Psyche with true love's kiss after their trials. Wings unfurling all delicate and feathery. They both crystallized.

“I should go.” Evie said without trying. Not moving an inch. Billy dropped his arms and stepped back to see her. Flicking his eyes before he let his light burn. Leaned forward and bit the inside of his cheek. A rasp.

“Take your fucking clothes off.”

Evie threw herself at him.

Knocked Billy back into the bed while their lips collided. The boy caught fire. He pushed her to turn them over. Already shoving between her legs. So hard, he figured he might blow his load right there. Evie’s lips on his neck made it worse. Made him moan until his leg shook like a dog’s would.

Yeah, it had been awhile.

“Fuck.” Billy pulled up, left Evie pawing for him. Fingers under her sweater to yank.

“Wait.” Evie gasped out so he stopped. All her fervor hid under the bed. Unable to meet those eyes.

“What?” Billy sat back on his knees. “Scared I won’t like what I see?”

“It’s too bright in here.” She turned to let the sheets fall over the blinds. Went for the other.

“Leave some light. Wanna see you.” Billy batted his lashes as he said that. Made her melt. Quickly, he pulled his own shirt off. Flashed the reason for all this anger earlier. Splotchy bruises along his ribs where Neil’s knuckles pushed in for whatever reason he picked that morning.

Evie paused to see them. Saw Billy’s rock hard chest sink in. Reached out and got her wrist snatched. Gentle as can be.

“Don’t worry about it.” His eyes averted.

“Don’t worry about mine.” Evie asked so Billy cupped her face and pushed her back into the sheets. She paused only to sit up and remove her top. Covered in fracturing rosy marks across fleshy curves. Before she had a chance to get insecure, Billy cut in.

“Leggings, too.” He winked, snapping the fabric. She scowled instead.

“You first.” Evie undid the loop of his belt, teeth tugging at her bottom lip as she did. Billy felt himself shudder. Stood up so she followed.

They stared at each other. Didn’t touch and undressed there in the too soft lights down to their underwear.

Billy’s eyes followed the swell of her breasts. Everything about Evie was plush. Dark curls hung over her shoulders. Really looked like a twisting goddess from a painting. She had her hands in front of her stomach and dropped them when he crossed. Inching her back into the wall.

A hand cupped her jaw before their lips opened. Arms went around his shoulders. Unafraid that he was looking at her in daylight.

Alive. Both of them felt alive.

Billy pressed further, let their bodies melt together. Tested how she felt against him. Flesh on flesh.

Several sensations erupted the moment his mouth was on her neck. Clouds bursting with rain. Fireworks splashing the night sky. Petals unfurled within Evie’s stomach. Gemstones grew out to crystallize. She wondered how pretty she’d be if Billy took a chisel to her flesh. Cracked the shell open. She ran her hands over his arms and felt the soft hairs there. Pulled him even in closer.

Fingers slid one bra strap down. Evie coaxed him further with digits woven into golden curls. Maybe Billy had a point about her being molten because she was about to spill hot between his fingers.

He came up. Moaned into her mouth. Palms gripping at flesh. Like he had to feel all of her at once. Evie bit her lip, neck craning back so he could inch lower again.

Billy Hargrove is about to fuck me, she could have giggled, and I’m going to fuck him hard and thoughtlessly.

She hitched a gasp just as his fingertips inched into cotton panties. Got ready to pull him back into bed.

Billy’s head lifted. The earring dangled almost violently when a door slammed. Evie’s dreams were sent scattering before they frozen together. Marble.

Water pouring over red hot iron to elicit the tempering sizzle.

“Fuck.” Billy recognized the sound. “Fuck. My dad.” He kept saying, pushing Evie’s clothing at her. “You need to go. Out the window.”

“What?” Evie barely had time to get dressed while he helped her. Both of them bursting at the seams. Billy yanked his jeans up and got the window open. Guided Evie over it as she was still forcing her sweater on.

“Billy!” Came a bark at the front of the house. Stomping followed. Evie plopped into the snowy grass with a groan as Billy dropped her shoes into her lap. Evie scrambled back up around the back of her house. Slammed the door and fell back against it like she had to hide too.

Lungs sputtered.

“What the fuck?” Her cheeks were an obscene cherry shade. She felt Billy all over her. Ached all between her thighs even in wet clothing. Huffed because she was unfucked and her sweater was inside out. “Shit.” Evie scrambled to her bedroom. Blue scuttled out to a food dish as Evie jerked the curtain open. Couldn’t see anything in Billy’s room.

Her phone rang.

“Yes?” A cry into the receiver.

“Cute that you worried for me.” Cool and even. Almost macho.

She puffed, sinking.

“Shut up.”

“Guess my dad’s beer run wasn’t as long as I thought.” Billy blew air out his lips. “Was hoping he’d be working today. They cut his hours down this week for some reason. Made him real fucking happy.”

“Come over here.”

“No, I’m locked in for playing my music too loud and for being disrespectful this morning. Gotta wait till later, he’ll get drunk enough and forget.” Billy reclined on his bed. Something horrible there because he was used to this. Music was playing softer behind him. Mingling with Neil in the living room watching some show play on. “You’re...intense.” His blase attitude and joke almost set Evie at ease. She fell into bed, eyes rolling.

“Uh. So, are you." A beat. "...Were you surprised?”

“Yeah, actually. I had you figured for a shy, little birdie.”

“Everyone thinks that about me. I sing and dance. I like sex and stage lights. I get mad. I’m not shy. Maybe at times about my...but, I get over it. Women can be as intense as men in the sack, you know?” Evie sounded insulted.

“Don’t worry, I’m a quick learner.” He’d mused. “Learning new things about you every day.”

Evie couldn’t explain why that made her blush. Hard. The silky timbre of his voice lulling her into genuine security.

“Learned that I can make out your accent more when you’re sleepy, on the phone, and in lust.”

“In lust? Shut up.” She mocked. “Don’t have an accent. You probably can’t even tell the uptown and downtown accents apart in N'awlins.” Ah shit. Billy found that hilarious as Evie cringed.

“That so, N'awlins?” Billy countered. “Just say the word, bayou, for me.”

“...That’s a hard pass. Are all Cali boys this insufferable?” She rolled over to swing her legs up.

“We are, actually. But, I am the prettiest.” His smile dazzled with no one to admire it. Evie saw it in her mind and wanted to just toss him over town.

“I’ll give you that for admitting it.” A breath followed. Evie toyed with one of her curls. Tugged. “I had you all shaky there.” His tongue clicked.

“No idea what you mean.” That cheekiness she enjoyed dripped from his rich tone. “Bummed, I was this close to seeing your tits.”

“They’ll be the same later. I think. I don’t know, I always thought they were shaped funny.” Brown eyes turned to the ceiling as she rolled back. one arm behind her head.

“Later, she says. Huh. And I’ll be the judge of that. I’m a professional and I’m not picky. Any shape is good, I’m in this for the taste.”

“Sleaze.” Evie pouted and a chuckle sounded. Billy sighed. "How'd you get my number, by the way?"

"Begged it from Heather on my way out. I can be smooth." He said. “You really want me over tonight? Steve and Heather won’t approve, am I right?”

She let out an aggravated sigh and Billy smiled again to himself. Imagined that scrunchy pout she liked to make. Fingers tapping his bare stomach.

“I mean, we can…hang out. Nothing wrong with that.”

“Like you came over just now to hang out, chica?”

“I didn’t come over just for that.”

“Sure. As if you also didn’t wet your blue panties for me.”

“You’re so gross.” Evie rubbed her legs together. Remembered his hands worshiping her flesh. Her flesh that she was conditioned to hate. Adjusted the phone and licked her lips. “Don’t make me regret this.”

“I’m just saying we can easily pick up where we left off, Evie.” The name rolled sinfully from his tongue. She swallowed. Flashes of Billy across her brain. His peachy tanned skin. His gold curls. His lips kissing her.

“Remind me where that was? Landed pretty hard there when you pushed me out the window.”

“Shit, yeah. About that-”

“I get it.” Evie didn’t need to make him explain. “I didn’t land on my head. Still raw from…” Where Fredrick tossed her into the wall. They both went silent. Just listened to each other breathe. Evie gave this dreamy sigh. “I like...your arm hair and I like the way you smell.”

He laughed.

"You're a funny girl, Evie."

"It's just...that intensity you have, I don't know. You are pretty." She rubbed her face. "I don't know what I'm saying."

“Your perfume goes right to my dick. You know that, too.” His joke lightened them both again. Evie rolled her eyes. “Explains why you practically crawl into my skin at night.” Billy remembered suddenly that he’d spent two nights with Evie and hadn’t screwed her. That was a rarity.

“You snore a little. Couple of grunts. Sorta adorable.”

“Don’t even get my started on how dead silent you get.” Billy’s eyes trailed over his room. He could still smell her honey amber scent lingering. Hummed into the pillow. Obsession by Calvin Klein. Odd scent for a teen, but matching him in intensity and she wore it so subtly. All they could do was battle and weave together. Obsession and Aramis. This strange dance he was thrilled to continue.

“Never answered my question.”

“Already forgot it. Was it where we left off or what I’d do to you next?” Lips curled as her breath hitched. “Let’s see. I had you against the wall. Moaning so pretty. Lipstick smeared.”

Evie almost didn’t speak up when he paused before...

“And?”

“And I was gonna keep kissing down your tits. Get the rest of your clothes off. Tongue my way over your sweet nipples. Stomach too, I like to cover all the ground I can. See how shy you really are.” He licked his lips and Evie’s eyes got heavy.

“Not so shy when I tell you to keep going.”

“No, I guess not. Not until I push your sensitive thighs open, I bet you’d quake and purr. Blush like you clearly are now.”

Evie realized she’d been holding her breath. Didn’t even fight him. Clutching her sweater as he spoke so casually.

“It’s a real fucking tragedy. Me, waiting longer before I find out how you taste. That’s all I’m saying.” Billy’s breath was labored on the other end. “Still with me here, Angel?”

“Is...this your private line?”

Another snicker.

“Obviously. Why?” Billy had his jeans open. Bit his lip while he pooled arousal around his tip. Watched it trickle down into his stomach. Again. No reply. “Answer was yes, by the way… What you asked early if I thought about you. I do a lot. Fucking you. Eating you out. I knew you were a hair puller, we have that in common.”

“Not sure I trust you to last and get the job done with how worked up you get. All the trembling, it was kinda cute.”

“You clearly haven’t ridden my tongue.”

Fuck him.

“You have to actually stop talking to do that, Billy.” Evie laughed in the open and Billy smiled brighter, eyes crinkling. He walked into that one. Idly, she ran her fingers up her thigh. “Between you and I, I never let guys eat me out.”

Billy stopped to sit up.

“No shit?”

“It always made me nervous so I stopped them when they tried. All the mouth action comes from me.” Evie had sat up on the other end too. “I’m pretty good actually.”

“You’d let me fuck that beautiful mouth after I taste you?” He’d cooed. “Betcha that lipstick won’t look half bad on my skin since you never did start buying waterproof.”

“I guess it’s only fair.” Evie dropped her tone. “Still think you can’t handle it.”

“There’s the ego I was hoping for.” He shook his head. “But, I have to say, sweetheart, you’re missing out. That’s the real crime, not letting yourself get tongue fucked once in a while. Do you not know how to treat yourself?”

Evie mashed her face into the nearest pillow.

“I can’t stand you. I shouldn’t have said anything.” She muffled and Billy only laughed again, laying down. Imagined how cherry her lips and cheeks must have looked. Thought about tracing his thumb over her wet mouth. Smeared in slick red.

“Don’t get shy on me now. We established you weren’t.”

“It’s weird.”

“Not weird. You just let a guy kiss down and nature takes over.”

“It’s not that simple with me.”

“Sure, it is. Let me walk you through it. Take your leggings and panties off.” He licked his lips. “C’mon, we got time to kill now.” There was some shuffling.

“It’s not a big deal,” Evie undressed anyways, “it’s just...I think about the angle and guys looking up and seeing my stomach and I get freaked out.”

“Sweetheart, my mouth will be buried in your pussy, I ain’t worried about your flesh. I’m more worried about my technique. These things you get so worked up about. Guys really don’t give a shit, the good ones anyways.” His vulgarity sent these fizzles all down her nerves. Actually made her feel better. “You just...tip your head back and enjoy it. Although, I don’t mind a little praise and eye contact. Make me feel like a good boy for once.”

“And I can’t like...play with myself to help?”

“You can, but just relax and let me take over. You can trust me to make you feel good, Evie. Might be nice to give up some control.”

He had no idea that he’d hit a nail on the head.

“So, kisses. Thighs open.” Evie settled into the pillows, free hand twisted into fabric with a cool breeze on her thighs. Breasts rising. “Would you use your fingers too?”

“If you ask me sweetly.” Billy saw beads of precum all over his abdomen. Throbbed and tried not to grunt. “I’d like to. I’d like to lick my way inside you. Hold your legs open and kiss your clit until you’re begging for more. Love the view of you. Spread open and wet for me. Like how you feel.”

“You’ve never been with a girl my size.” Evie broke into his daydreams.

“You don’t know that.” He paused. It was true.

“Yes, I do, Billy.” Evie didn’t know why the thought was stark and gnawing. “I’m bigger than you. Wider. Maybe even heavier.”

“Bet, I can lift you just fine.” He rubbed his face, eyes searching. “I liked it. Touching you. I wasn’t shy about it, was I? Fucking soft. I’m not used to that against me. You’re warm and when I squeezed you against me, I wanted to throw you on my bed so fucking bad. Can't explain it.”

She went silent so he found a joke.

“If it makes you so nervous, I promise to let you suck me off after.”

“A dashing gentleman if I ever saw one.” She broke out of the nerves.

“Just think about it, Evie. You ever just take the time to appreciate how wet you made someone? Up close. It's a thrill.” Billy hitched as he palmed himself. Evie swallowed a lump.

“Are you…?”

“Am I, what?” Billy’s labored breathing made it obvious, but he wanted her to say it.

“Did I make you wet?”

“Jeans are ruined for the day.” He offered, husky under the music. “Should have risked hiding you in the closet.”

“We would have so been caught.”

“His problem.” Billy gruffed, changed the subject to work himself up. “Two clasps away from those tits. I won’t forget that.”

“Maybe I’ll play with them since you’re not here to.” She moved a hand under her sweater and Billy outright groaned.

“What do you taste like?”

“I recall you predicting heaven.” Sarcasm etched out. “It's possible you’ll find out if I’m in the mood again. I could be just now realizing this was a lapse in judgement.”

“Ah huh.” Billy gave himself a few strokes. Evie listened to him sigh too soft and husky in her ear. Pictured him atop her. Rock hard and moaning. Gorgeous like Apollo. Sun streaming upon his back. Illuminating curls.

She slid her fingers down. Hitched a sigh because she was soaked and aching.

“Would you kiss me after I sucked you off?” Evie played with herself. Let him hear the moan.

“With tongue. You could spit directly into my mouth for all I care. In fact, I might like that.” Billy hummed, tone changing to give an order. “Slip your fingers in if you haven’t already. I know what you’re doing, Evangeline.”

“You were doing it first.” Evie’s head pressed back into the pillows. She spread her legs and drew circles into herself, pressed two fingers in and moaned.

“Who’s fucking you right now, Angel?”

“Oh, you.” She was forward about that. Heart thumping. “Want your mouth and hands.”

“Told you.” His head tilted back. Tried to stay immersed in the lingering scent of her. “Play with your clit again. That’ll do until I get my tongue on you.”

Evie cursed that time. Accent lacing her tone. It made him smile brighter.

“If I had it my way, you won’t play with yourself at all. Know that? You want to get off, you just come to me and let me take care of you.”

“What a chore.” Evie sped and started to rock into her own touch.

“I’m always up to the task.”

Billy worked himself on the other end to every little mewl and sigh. Dirty talk went out the window as she gasped. Started to build herself up. Pictured Billy slicked and surrendered against cotton sheets. Stunning and batting his lashes while he opened his mouth and pumped his fist.

“Get yourself there, Angel, don’t wait for me.” He heard her curse louder and almost drop the phone back. With Billy’s little murmurs of dirty encouragement, she rubbed perfect circles. Imagined his fingers and tongue. His sly eyes and those fucking lashes. Muscles bulging hot under her grasp. Evie cried out, succumbed there and hitched to shake and shudder. Billy closed his eyes while she got off. Couldn’t wait to be the one who got her there.

“Fuck, Evie. You’re killing me.” One fists jerked up and down. Unable to get close because he was distracted with her. “I can’t...fucking shit. I was almost there a moment ago when you were here and now, ah…fucking hell.”

“Sounds like you need help.” Evie stretched like a cat against her pillows. Still trembling.

“Or another hand.” He sighed. “Or a mouth. Think about how you’d leave that red lipstick all over my dick.”

“I got an idea. If you give me shit, I’ll end you.” Evie pushed her blissful body up. “Come up to the window.”

“What…” Billy shoved a sheet aside to see her. Out of breath and curls sticking all over. Blushed and fucked. Gorgeous. “What are you doing?” He was still slowly jerking himself to keep the momentum. Evie looked around the grass and shrubbery. Rolled her eyes before lifting up her shirt and moving the bra down.

Billy’s mouth dropped along with his phone so she giggled as he disappeared to grab it.

“Fuck!” Billy caught himself and returned.

“Are they everything you pictured?” She bit her lip and winked. He was dead intent on her tits. Mouth open. Working himself harder.

“Push them against the window.”

Her hard, dark rosy nipples pressed there and Billy moaned. Wished he had them in his hands. Wished he would fuck her mouth and shoot his load on them.

“Yes, Evie, fuck.” He submitted. Almost sounded like a zombie. Under her spell. Typical boy. Working himself until… “Gonna cum.” Strings of release hit the wall as Billy dropped the phone again to finish. Evie still heard his muffled moans on the end and brought herself back down, giggling at the same time Billy fell into his pillows.

“Did I lose you, Billy?”

“No, but if you could pick my balls up off the floor, that’d be great.” He puffed and felt around for a tee to clean up with. “Okay. I’m gonna say this. We’re going to fuck. Hear me? I am going to fuck you. Can’t today. But, it's happening.”

“So certain. What, are you spent already?”

“Not gonna plan that far, we hang out as you say...and see what happens.” He caught his breath. “Can’t do it here and your two guards are going to be on you this week.”

“You thought awhile about this.” Evie licked her lips, still fixing her bra in place. “Maybe my common sense comes back.”

“Maybe you admit you’re warming up to me again. Sizzling fuse.”

“Yeah, yeah.” Evie rose out of bed and paused to sigh. Tone shifting. "Billy?"

"Hm?"

“What if he comes back?”

“He’s scared. He won’t. I stopped him.”

“I feel like I’m going to be constantly looking over my shoulder. You know?” Evie didn't want to touch the floor again.

“Then, I guess I know where to stand for your attention.” His quip had Evie biting her lip. Roses bloomed up her thighs and cheeks. “I also left my number under your lamp, by the way. Use it.”

Evie blinked and lifted it to see a torn slip with his handwriting. Slippery bastard.

“Yeah, I got it.” She bit back a smile. “I’ll...ah, see you later, Billy.”

“Yes, you will.” He paused. “One more question. More of a courtesy.”

“What?”

“Preferred method of birth control? Have a couple rubbers. I’m clean, by the way. But, are you an in or out type of girl?”

“Also clean. And I’m an avid user of the pill, smartass. Use that information however you like.” She hung up, leaving Billy to laugh on the other end. He brought the phone away, still so stupid happy. Dreaming himself away.

Psyche went through so many trials for Cupid. Billy wondered about the after. About Eros picking up some trials of his own to keep a girl that tangled him so ardently. About how it felt worth it down to the beating core. All’s fair...

Evangeline Fenny might really be the end of him.

~~~~~~~~~~

Thanks for tuning in!! That was actually my first full phone sex scene, it's so fun to write these two and their weird dance. I just love them more by the chp. xx Stay and chat with me if you can! As is open :)

TAGGED:: @80sbxtch @nottherightseason @orxhidshavana @alagalaska @alongcamedolly @kellyk-chan @10blurredsmoke10 @stanley--barber @charmed-asylum @unmistakablyunknown

#billy hargrove #Billy hargrove x oc #Billy Hargrove imagine #billy hargrove smut #billy hargrove fanfiction #billy hargrove fic #mine #writing #SOMY #Angel Fenny #billy x angel

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ofstarsandvibranium · 5 years

Text

Some Alpha: Part 8

Fandom: Marvel (ABO AU)

Pairing: Chubby!Bucky Barnes x Reader

Summary: Bucky is an Alpha, but can never seem to find someone who wants him to be their Alpha. Until he finds you, a Beta, who’s as firey as an Alpha, yet also tender-hearted like an Omega.

Warning: smut - fingering

A/N: slowly and surely. we’re getting close to the mating chapter!!!

Bucky couldn’t make it to your class today. He was called in for work early to supervise some trial runs. Despite you being so understanding and supportive of Bucky, he still felt like he was failing you. Even though you had a smile on his face and made him promise to come by after he gets off of work, he still couldn’t help that he was disappointing you, and he hated that.

To make up for that nagging feeling, Bucky decided to come by during lunch, a bag of takeout from one of your favorite restaurants in hand. He planned on surprising you while you were in the pool, but that immediately failed because as soon as he walked into the gym lobby, you were at the reception desk talking to Hope.

“Hey, Tubby!”

You look over your shoulder to see Bucky and you immediately scold Hope, “Knock it off, Gregory!” and then you sauntered your sweet ass over to him, pecking his lips, “Hey, I wasn’t expecting you.”

He shrugged, “Surprise! I brought some sustenance for my beautiful Beta.”

You bounced with delight as you kissed Bucky’s cheek, “Why thank you, my handsome Alpha. Good timing too ‘cause I’m starving!”

Bucky’s proudful grin immediately turned into worry, his Alpha instincts kicking in, “Starving? Did you not eat this morning?”

You regretfully shook your head, “No. I woke up a bit late since we stayed up all night marathoning Black Mirror.”

Bucky physically winced, mentally berating himself for not being considerate of your sleep schedule and that you had work the next morning. What kind of Alpha keeps their Beta up all night to to then not have them eat breakfast because they slept so late? You’re a terrible Alpha. Not only are you inconsiderate, you’re ugly, and fat and-

“Bucky,” you cup his cheeks to get him to look at you, “Whatever you’re thinking, don’t. I knew it was likely to happen. You didn’t make me stay at your place all night. I wanted to be there, so it’s my fault. It’s my fault I didn’t get anything to eat this morning either. Not yours.” your thumbs softly stroke his stubbled cheeks, “You didn’t do anything wrong, Alpha. I promise,” you whispered.

Bucky took your hands and kissed them, mumbling, “You’re such an angel, you know that?”

“Gag me with a fork!” Hope hollered from the counter, obnoxiously chewing on some bubblegum.

Bucky rolled his eyes, “I believe the saying is ‘gag me with a spoon’, Hope.”

“No, gag with me a fork so it could puncture my throat and I can die. Jesus, you guys are disgusting!”

You snorted and wrapped your arms around Bucky, “It’s okay, Hope, once you find your someone, you’ll be just as cute and disgusting as us.”

“I’d rather die,” she sneers before turning on her heels and heading to the gymnastics room.

You rolled your eyes, “Pretty sure she’s cranky ‘cause her heat is creeping up. Anyway, wanna eat this at the tables in the back?”

“Whatever you want, sweetheart,” Bucky leans in and kisses your nose. He then proceeds slip his fingers into yours and follows you towards the picnic area towards the back of the gym.

____________________________

Bucky had come to your place after you got home from work. Your hair was still damp from your shower. A hoodie and shorts donning your form. Bucky still wore his suit from work. A heather gray blazer with matching slacks and a white button up shirt. However, his blazer was tossed on the back of your couch, the sleeves of his shirt were rolled up, and the top two buttons of his shirt unbuttoned. He looked delectable.

Offer yourself to him. That’s what you’re here for, to serve Alphas like him. Your inner Beta was telling you, but your logical mind was scolding it. You shook your head and went back to paying attention to Bucky talking.

“Something wrong?”

“Tired. I know I asked you to come here, but I can’t help but feel exhausted.”

Bucky chuckled, “I get it, baby. It’s alright.” he stood up with a grunt, stretching his arms out, “I’ll leave and you can-”

“Actually...can you stay? It’ll probably be just a two hour nap. After that, we can go out and eat or something?”

“If you want me to stay, then I’ll stay.” He helps you stand and guides to your room, “Finally get to see if you talk in your sleep or not.”

You scoff, “I mumble nonsense, so I highly doubt you’ll hear anything good.”

“We’ll see about that,” he mutters into your hair and kisses your head.

_______________________

It didn’t take long for you to fall asleep. Looks like you were exhausted just as you told him. Bucky laid in your bed, down to his undershirt and boxers, not wanting to feel uncomfortable as he laid in bed with you.

You were curled up into him, his protective arm wrapped around you as you soundly slept off today’s work. You made little noises here and there, but no mumbling or talking in your sleep so far.

“Bu...cky.” Nevermind.

“Bucky,” you whispered in your sleep, a moan following his name. So...that’s how you sound like.

“Alpha,” you panted as you rolled over, your back now facing Bucky’s, but you scoot back until your ass met his crotch, “Alpha, please,” you whimpered, grinding your ass against Bucky.

Oh shit. She’s having a sex dream! A sex dream about you!

This is it. You can take her. Listen to her! She’s begging for you!

He grunted as you pushed your ass back to him hard. He could feel his cock harden within every second. His arm around you tightened. A part of him, his Alpha part of him, wanted him to take you. Fuck you and mark you his. But his logical part of him was shaking his head: You can’t take advantage of her like that. It’s wrong and she deserves better than that.

Bucky, despite his urges growing, removed his arm from you and began to shake you awake, “Y/N, baby, wake up.” He couldn’t see if you were beginning to stir, so he continued, “Sweetheart, come on, can you wake up? Please? Y/N?”

After a few more shakes you groaned and lifted your head, “Wh-Bucky? What’s wrong?” you turn over to look at him, you notice that his cheeks are flushed and there’s a sheen of sweat on his forehead, “What happened? Did I do something wro-” that’s when you smell it. The musky smell of lust radiating off him, “You-You woke me up ‘cause you’re horny?”

Bucky sat up in an instant, “No, well, yes, but no! You-You were talking in your sleep. You were moaning my name and then you started grinding against me a-and I was, well, you know, so I decided to wake you up.”

“Oh,” you look down in shame and embarrassment, “I’m sorry, Bucky, I didn’t-I guess I’m still a bit turned on from earlier.”

“Earlier?” he looked at you confused, his heading cocking to the side like a confused puppy.

“Yeah. Earlier you looked really sexy with your sleeves rolled up and your shirt unbuttoned. I guess the thoughts I was having about you slipped into my dreams.”

“Were you,” he gulps, “Were you having a sex dream about me?”

You bit your lip and nodded, avoiding his gaze, “Yeah, but I know you wanna take things slow so I don’t expect-”

“How about we help each other out?”

“What do you mean?”

“Well, I’m clearly turned on right now, and I’m pretty sure you are too, so we, uh, handle it together?”

“But-”

Bucky raises his hand and wiggles his fingers, “Some hand and mouth action should take care of it in a jiffy.” he repeats your words from the last time, making you giggle.

“Alright then, Alpha. Want me to work on you first-”

“Actually, can-can I go first w-with you? I won’t use my mouth, I just-I wanna touch you.”

“Okay,” you whisper as you kick off the blanket and wiggle out of your shorts. You then take his hand and slip it your underwear, you gasp when you feel his fingers graze along your slit.

“You’re so wet already, Beta,” his whispers.

You whimper out for him, “Alpha, please, touch me. Fuck me with your fingers.”

You watch as his eyes dilate and darken. He smirks and lets out a dark chuckle, “My Beta wants me to finger fuck her, then finger fuck her I shall.” His fingers delve into your folds, already coating themselves in your juices.

“Fuck,” you moan and hide your face in Bucky’s chest, but it doesn’t stay there.

He pulls you back and tsks, “No, no. I wanna look at you while my fingers are inside your pussy, my sweet Beta. Wanna see your eyes when I make you cum.”

“Alpha,” you cry out as your fingers dig into Bucky’s arm. His fingers are pumping in and out of you hard and fast, “So good, Alpha.”

“Yeah? Your Alpha making you feel good, sweetheart? Is your Alpha gonna make you cum all over his fingers?”

“Want it, Alpha. Please, make me cum.”

“Rub your clit while I finger you, Beta.”

You gasp as even more pleasure is added to the mix. You haven’t felt this much heated, raw pleasure in a while. It felt so good, so euphoric. You skin felt like it was on fire, hot to the touch.

You hear humming and Bucky’s chuckle, “I feel you tightening, my Beta. You’re close aren’t you? Can’t wait to feel you cum. Come on honey. Let me feel you. Cum for your, Alpha, will ya?”

You feel the pressure building up inside and when Bucky started to go harder and faster, that’s when the dam broke loose. You squirt all over Bucky’s fingers as well as your underwear, plus some of your bed.

“Shit, sweetheart,” he growls as he helps you ride through your orgasm right until you grab at his hand to make him stop. Slowly and carefully, he pulls his fingers out of you, purposefully grazing along your clit before pulling his hand out. It’s completely covered in your juices. You watch with hazy eyes as Bucky licks his fingers and hand clean, while remaining eye contact with you.

“So taste delicious, Beta. Can’t wait to get my mouth on you someday.”

You groan and hide your face into the neck, “Thank you, Bucky. Shall I do you now?”

He shakes his head and confuses you, “No, it’s alright. You should probably go back to sleep now.”

“But-”

“Y/N, I promise. It’s alright. I just want you to sleep, okay? I don’t mind that I’m not taken care of. Once you’re asleep, I’ll just take care of myself in the bathroom.”

“Are you sure?”

“Positive.” he kisses your lips and then your forehead, “Go back to sleep, my Beta.”

You hum in compliance, your eyes fluttering closed and you mumble out, “Thank you, Alpha.”

#Bucky Barnes #bucky barnes x reader #bucky x reader #chubby!bucky #abo au #au #marvel #smut

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addictedforbooksquad · 4 years

Photo

B O O K R E V I E W

╙ T H E Q U E E N O F N O T H I N G B Y H O L L Y B L A C K

genre: fantasy, young adult

publication date: 19th November, 2019

rating (1-5 scale):

writing: ★ ★ ★ ★

characters & character development: ★ ★ ★ ★

could-not-put-it-down factor: ★ ★ ★ ★ ★

general rating: ★ ★ ★ ★ ★

WARNING: CONTAINS SPOILERS!

“By you, I am forever undone.”

Exhilarating. Feels-inducing. Heart-attacking. I didn't just read this book. I devoured it. Inhaled it through my pores. Drank it in with haste and thirst as if indulging in faerie wine after a year-long fast. Perhaps from a storytelling point of view, this wasn't as good as “The Wicked King” but nevertheless, I revelled in every single page. I read it in one go, from cover to cover, and all I can say is that it was absolutely worth a sleepless night. And then it left me so satisfied and full of reflections and feelings, then I just cannot stop thinking about it. And aren't those books, which leave us content and sated, and yet somehow yearning for even more of a good thing, just the best? Now, onto the details, the good and (despite 5-star rating) the bad: I. the sister thing Anyone who knows me, knows that I absolutely hated Taryn in the first two books. Betrayal of her sister aside, I just found her utterly and unforgivably...boring. In "The Queen of Nothing" though, I was happy to discover depths to her character that weren't that fleshed out before. From killing Locke (YASSS!!!) to standing up to Madoc, side by side with Jude and Vivi, Taryn finally showed with her ACTIONS, not words, which side she is on. And look, this perhaps doesn't erase what she did to Jude in “The Cruel Prince” but I liked how the story unfolded between them in this last installment. This is not a series about pure-hearted good characters. They all did awful things. They all did some of those awful things to each other. So in the end, I'm glad there was no "grovelling" on Taryn's part, no act of "official" forgiveness. That's not how things work in Faerie. More than that, all the sisterly moments! Loved them! Whether it was Taryn trying to gossip about Cardan with Jude or the three sisters united against Madoc, it was great to see a positive sister relationship in a fantasy for once. I definitely prefer them together than apart and set up against each other. II. the trick thing I had lots of theories after finishing "The Wicked King" about Cardan banishing Jude from Elfhame and damn, do I have a satisfaction of getting it at least partially right. I know a lot of people hated what Cardan did in TWK but personally, I loved that plot twist. I thought it evened out the playing field between them and I always knew there was more to it anyway. And would you look at that, it was indeed a trick! When Jude and Cardan reunited and he was so utterly confused that Jude WASN'T proud of him for pulling one over her...priceless. He did it to impress her. He did it to protect her (and his kingdom). He did it to, let's face it, get back at her. It's so wonderfully twisted, my pitch-black heart rejoices and flutters. Added to that delicious cake of dark and twisted is a cherry of irony on top which is the fact that Jude did realize that she could pardon herself...and didn't. She, who is usually so smart and devious and quick to pick up on other people being smart and devious, wasn't able to see through the smoke screen and guess Cardan's true intentions. Which isn't that surprising to me, because when it comes to feelings, my daughter Jude is the most hopeless and oblivious person in that fantasy realm. That lack of trust in Cardan cost her and it only underlined what needed to change - to be able to rule together, Jude and Cardan need to lower their defences when it comes to one another. But more on that in the next point. III. the love thing Jude and Cardan's dynamic has been one of my very favourite things about this series from the start. I love them both as characters and I love them as a ship. I was happy to find out that what unravelled between them in this last installment was utterly (with some minor mishaps) satisfying. Their reunion, untangling the coiled web of mistrust and misunderstandings, learning to trust and be trusted...it was everything. I longed to see them as allies and a team, rather than enemies and reluctant/forced co-operators from the start (not that it wasn't fun to see them as enemies and reluctant allies, IT WAS SO MUCH FUN) and here I got what I wished for. Love scenes, their talk of lowering their shields, those that had been kept up for so so long, melted my heart. Cardan's love confession? Perfect! And so fitting for him in my opinion. Only he would say ILY in such an off-handed manner.

Basically:

"Hi you probably already know this because you're so smart (and I love you) but I've loved you for a long time, OK we got stuff to do BYE" Perfection 😍😂 Cardan was also, quite obviously, Jude's first stan, and I just live for relationships like that. And the longing between them was so palpable. Especially in Cardan's letters to Jude, I could feel how much he missed his Queen *ugly weeping* I'd say that Jude's confession could've been handled better, as in, there could've been even more build-up to it, considering how good she is at holding on to her walls and defences. Still, I loved it in its own way. IV. the character development thing I know there are some who were dissatisfied with the plot twist and the ending. Personally, I thought it was very fitting though. The decision that Jude faces? Between love and power, between her own humanity and the possibility of utter control over Cardan? That dilemma was the best way to capture the character development she had gone through throughout this series. Ever since the beginning, Jude had been wondering about one thing - where will she draw a line? Is there a line that she won't cross to get more power? She got her answer in this book. As Jude was making her choice between killing Cardan or killing her chances at ruling Elfhame, I was crying heavy tears of someone who had witnessed a painful yet utterly satisfying journey. Jude had always been scared. Jude had always resented being weak and human. Jude had always craved power and security for herself. Jude had always hated being vulnerable and relished in the control she gained over Cardan. And with her choice, she embraced so much of what she had once resented. She chose hardship and uncertain future and opened herself up to being hurt. She chose love. She chose being human and weak and what-the-hell-I'll-deal-with-it-because-I'm-not-weak-at-all. She chose Cardan. *this reviewer took a 5-minute break at this point to wipe off all the tears from her keyboard* The point is, I loved the character development this choice represented and yet, Jude also remained very much herself by doing this. V. the loose thread thing Not to be overly sweet on this book, there were also some loose ends, all right. For one, I wish the relationship between Cardan and his mother was explored more, same with more insight into Jude's biological parents, especially her mother. It seemed like it was teased a lot in two previous installments and yet, I didn't experience nearly as much delivery as I expected on those subjects. I just wish there was more on this. VI. other things

Cardan calling Jude his wife, THE FEELS ARE REAL

the not-so-subtle hinting at the possible Taryn-Ghost romance, I dig it

loved the conclusion to Jude and Madoc relationship, he got exactly what he deserved

onto punishment topic, I also loved that Cardan left that responsibility solely within Jude's power

underlining the fact that Cardan is very stable in his feelings, very un-faerie-like was very much appreciated, I love one (1) Faerie boy

Vivi and Heather getting their HEA as well, YESSSS

the symbolism of Cardan creating two thrones from one, my heart stopped

Cardan in the mortal world (P.S. I NEED MORE OF THIS, approximately 483949 pages more)

I could go on and on but there was just so much - and in such a (relatively) short book too. What I will say is this - The Folk of the Air had been shaping up to be one of my favourite fantasy series, and "The Queen of Nothing" made it into a fact. Which it could have very well failed to do, as it often happens with final books in a series. Because ever since I finished "The Wicked King", I've been holding my breath, waiting for the proverbial other shoe to drop and for this final book not to live up to the very high expectations I've had for a conclusion not only to a great series, but also some of my very favourite characters and relationships. But after reading this, "I feel as though I can finally breathe again."

#the folk of the air #the queen of nothing #queen of nothing spoilers #book recs #jurdan #litedit #bookworm #bibliophile #book reviews #jude duarte #prince cardan #our reviews #by kate

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sprnklersplashes · 5 years

Text

dead girl falling

AO3 (rated teen and up)

Veronica slams her bedroom door shut, her heart pounding a frantic rhythm against her ribs, her mother’s concerned cries beginning to calm down.

‘I know exactly what you’re going through,’ she had said and Veronica nearly laughs. She doesn’t know what her world looks like, no one does. No one except her and the judgemental ghosts of Ram, Kurt and Heather Chandler, looking at her with narrowed eyes and feral grins as she looks around her bedroom for anything to use, to defend herself, to attack him with, she doesn’t know yet. By her guess, JD is right down her block. Five minutes from her house. Marching down the street with an untethered brain and a gun in his hand.

Five minutes to live, how should she spend them?

She looks over at her desk, covered with notes and flashcards and text book from a time when she thought her SATs were the most important thing in her life. She remembers telling JD when they were sitting on the wall outside the school one morning “if I don’t pass English, I’m dead” and he had laughed. At the time, she had loved his laugh, the way it sounded, the way it made her feel. Now, remembering it, she felt sick. She’ll never read the Bell Jar again.

Still, she sees a blank page and a pen and inspiration strikes. She grabs the notebook and pen off the desk and dives into her closet, locking the door behind her and turning on the light. It’s almost nothing, but it will work. It has to.

She closes her eyes and pictures JD’s writing. The sharpness of his ‘f’s and how tiny his ‘s’s are and how he never crosses his ‘I’s. It’s not easy, leaning on her knees under a nearly burnt-out bulb with her hand shaking as she scribbles, trying to form the words he’d say on the page, but she can’t stop. Even when she hears her window lock snap off, she keeps writing.

“Knock, knock,” he says. He almost sounds like he’s laughing. He’s so far from the boy she used to know, who was calm and collected, even when wrapping his arms around her with a gun in his hand after shooting down Kurt and Ram. She can only remember one time he’s ever sounded out of control; when he exploded after Kurt and Ram’s funeral, telling her about the evil fucks who made life unbearable. And even that pales in comparison to how he sounds now. “Sorry for coming in through the window, dreadful etiquette I know.” She keeps her mouth shut, pressing her back against the wood of her closet. Just keep writing, she tells herself. Just keep going. “Veronica, come on, I know you’re in here.”

She hears the tap of his knuckles against her closet door. No, not his knuckles. It’s too hard, metallic even.

“I can see the light on in there,” he taunts. The door handle rattles. “Open the door.”

“Why?” she asks, her voice small. “What are you doing here?”

“I’m here to tell you I forgive you,” he tells her. “Come on out and get dressed, you’re my date to the pep rally tonight.”

“Why?” she repeats. One syllable words might be all her fried brain can come up with right now.

“You know our classmates thought they were signing a petition. You should come out and see what they really signed,” he explains, his voice growing higher and higher and she hopes her parents can’t hear. She can’t drag anyone else into this mess. “After you chucked me out, I fell apart, Veronica. You should have seen me, screaming, crying, punching the wall. BAM!” On the other side of the door, his fist collides with the wall and she lets out a scream before clamping her hands over her mouth. “You should be dead for what you put me through.” Tears form in her eyes at how cold his voice sounds. She wants the boy who kissed every inch of her at 2am and told her how beautiful she is, the boy who told her he worshipped her, who fawned over her. But it’s the same boy who did all that. Just the side she never wanted to see. “But then I realised something… it hit me, you know? This wasn’t your fault. Nothing could ever be your fault, you’re too perfect for that. It’s them, those assholes. It’s our class, it’s our whole damn school. They’re the ones keeping us apart. Poisoning your mind, turning you away from me.” She hears him fall to his knees outside. “But it’s okay babe. I can fix you, set you free. Make everything the way it was.” His voice catches, and she wonders if he’s crying. “Make you love me again.”

“What?” she asks, so quietly she’s surprised if he even heard her. “What did they sign, JD?”

“A note,” he explains. “Listen, it’s good. ‘We the students of Westerburg High, will die. Our burnt bodies may finally get through to you. Your society churns out slaves and blanks, no thanks. Signed the students of Westerburg High. Goodbye’. Sounds good right?” As he reads, she tears her own note off the book, folds it as small as she can, and puts it in her bra. She hears him laughing breathlessly. “I built a bomb, Veronica. Went home and took a bunch of my dad’s explosives. Our school’s gonna be Vietnam, baby. Boom, boom, BOOM!” She can only imagine what he’s doing in her room. There’s three inches of wood between them but it feels like he’s punching her over and over. “Veronica, we can do it together. Remember what we said? We’ll burn it all down and plant our garden here, together. Veronica, I… I can’t do this alone. We started this together, we’ll end it together.” She wants to spit in his face. They didn’t start anything together except… well, they kind of did. She hears his ragged breathing. “We were meant to be together. I was meant to be yours and once we make them all go away, we can be together again. That’s what you wanted, right? To be with me?”

Not like this, JD. Not like this.

“Okay,” she whispers. “Okay. JD, I’m going to open the door.”

“You are?” he asks, hopeful and more than a little surprised

“Yeah.” She raises on her unsteady legs. Deep breath. “Just, stand back, please?”

“Sure, sure, anything.” She waits for a few seconds, slides the bolt open and takes a shaky step outside. JD is almost on the other side of the room, looking like a kid on Christmas morning when he sees her. Other than that he looks awful; his hair is completely dishevelled, like he’s ran his fingers through it, his eyes are red, his face is pale. “Hi.”

“Hey.” He crosses over to her and she meets him halfway. He looks confused, unsure whether he shoulder be happy or sad. He caresses her face with one hand. She looks down and sees the gun in his other hand.

“I was never going to use it,” he promises.

“I know,” she says.

“What made you decide to come out?” he asks.

“I think… I think you’re right.” The words feel wrong in her mouth, but she forces them out anyway. “Everyone at school thinks you’re wrong for me. That you’ll hurt me. They just got me so confused.” She covers his hand on her face with hers and grabs his coat with the other. This shouldn’t feel wrong but it does. “They messed me up, put things in my head, they scared me. They made me forget everything about you.” He smiles as she talks, leaning into her touch. “You said you’d set me free? You’d put things right?”

“Of course I will,” he tells her, kissing her head. She wants to cry. Instead, she bats her eyes and smiles.

“Then let’s do it,” she says. “Make this whole town disappear.”

He laughs again and kisses her. She remembers at the beginning, when kissing him was like fire running through her veins, making her feel like she could do anything. She remembers when he kissed her after promising he’d change, slow and long and painful, tasting like tears and hope. Now all she feels is cold, dead weight on her lips.

She follows him out her window and down the drive, down the whole way to the school without question, letting him hold her hand and whisper to her that he loves her, all while the note crinkles against her chest and his gun sits in his pocket and a bomb in his backpack.

He takes Veronica down a back door into the boiler room. Having never been down there, she’s not sure what to expect, but it’s uncomfortably hot and the boiler looks ancient.

“Norwegian in the boiler room,” she mutters as he takes the bomb out of his bag and begins setting it up. It seems more complicated than she thought; coming in different parts he sticks together with a roll of duct tape.

“Well, my dad’s good for one thing,” he laughs as he keeps working. Veronica nods, her heart clenching in her chest. Above their heads, the rest of the students dance and cheer in blissful unawareness. Students who will be dead before they can sing the national anthem if she doesn’t act soon.

She looks back him JD. Sweat beads on his forehead, beginning to stick his dark curls to his head. She said it that first night they spent together and she meant it; he’s beautiful. Deceptively so. She leans against the wall, casting her mind back over everything. All the bad, Heather Chandler and Ram and Kurt and even what just went down in her bedroom, but also the good, the rush she felt when he’d hold her, how she cried against his chest after the three-way rumour was spread around the school, the sound of his laugh, them sitting together on his bed while he told her about his love for books, walking home from school together, their hands linked. A whole kaleidoscope passes in front of her eyes of the past month, half of it painful and ugly, half of it brilliant and spectacular.

She knows he could have been beautiful inside. She saw him be gentle and soft and kind with her. She wonders what would have happened if his mom had stuck around, if his dad was good. If she had met him before everyone convinced him life was war.

“Hey.” He stops his work and stands up. It’s only when he wipes away her tear she even realises she’s crying. “What is it?”

“Nothing,” she lies. “I just love you.” He smiles and presses a kiss to her knuckles. For a moment, she doesn’t see the God complex and the violence, the manipulation and the pleading. She just sees her boyfriend.

“I love you too.” He sits down and gets back to whatever he was doing. “I brought some marshmallows. I thought it would be fun to toast them together, you know? Should have brought some crackers too, could have made s’mores.”

She presses her shaking hand to her stomach as a wave of nausea takes over. It’s now or never.

“What was that?” she asks, looking down the hall.

“What was what?” he asks, looking up.

“You didn’t hear that?” she says, pushing herself off the wall. She wills her voice to stop shaking. “I think someone came down here.”

“No one ever comes down here,” he says, but he doesn’t sound sure. He gets up and pushes her against the wall. “Stay here, I’ll check it out.”

“No,” she protests, grabbing his arm. “You’ve got this to do. I’ll do it.”

“Are you sure?” he asks, rubbing his thumb along your cheekbone. “If someone is down here you can get hurt.”

“Then give me the gun,” she requests. He takes it out of his pocket and looks from it to her. “I know how to use it, you taught me. You’ve got work to do here, and I’ll protect you if I have to.” He nods slowly, handing it over to her. He pulls her in and kisses her forehead.

“Be careful,” he tells her. “Don’t get hurt.”

“I won’t.” She starts walking away from him and hears him kneeling down in front of the bomb. She walks slowly, thinking about everything they could have done. Everything they could have been. Everything he promised her.

Camping, lying on the grass and looking up at the stars. Playing poker under blankets next to a campfire. Him letting her drag him around stores for summer clothes. Him holding her close on prom night as they dance and feel like they’re the only two people in the world.

“I’m sorry,” she whispers, so low he can’t even hear. What he does hear is her beginning to cry. Behind her, she hears him stand up.

“Veronica?” he asks.

It’s time. She turns to face him, looking straight at his concerned face.

“Veronica what’s wrong?” When he steps forward, she steps back. Her arm feels like lead, but she raises it anyway. “Veronica-”

The bullet hits him in the stomach. She finds something ironic in the look of betrayal on his face when she pulls the trigger. An angry read stain grows on his t-shirt, spreading out like tentacles across the fabric. Neither one of them move, not even when the gun clatters to the floor. He gaps like he’s only just felt the pain and touches his hand to his stomach, wincing.

“Nice shot,” he says before he hits the floor with a bang, waking her up.

“JD!” she says, kneeling beside him, shaking him, forcing him to stay with her. “Listen to me, it’s over. It’s over JD! Which wire do I pull? How do I turn it off? Damn it which one?”

“You… you don’t need to,” he says weakly. “I never got that far. I never got it started. It won’t go off, ever.” He coughs painfully. “Unless you want it to.”

She reaches into her bra and takes out the note she wrote earlier. She smooths it out and drops it beside him. He laughs again and it sets him off coughing.

“And here I had thought you lost your taste for taking suicides,” he jokes. He keeps looking up at the ceiling. Veronica tells herself she shouldn’t go near him, but her body doesn’t obey and she kneels beside him. She doesn’t have the guts to look at the wound but nor is she strong enough to look at his face. She places the gun in his right hand, wrapping his cold fingers around the metal. “So what did you write?”

“What?”

“Can I hear my dying words,” he asks. He nods weakly towards the note she wrote, groaning in pain. “My final statement? I hope you made me sound good.”

She nods and lifts the page. It’s hard to read with tears in her eyes and her hands shaking, but she tries.

“Dear World,” she starts. “You weren’t kind to me. You gave me a father who never learned to love and dragged me around from state to state like a dog on a leash. You never let me stay anywhere and plat roots. You never let me grow. I was here for seventeen years and all I learned was pain and violence and anger. You were a war I never agreed to fight. You weren’t too kind to my mother either. You are cold and unfair, you give free passes to people who cause pain and let them relish in it, while giving no help to people who get hurt. Year by year you damaged me and now it’s all too late. I’m far too damaged for you or anyone.”

“Damn,” he wheezes. “You made me sound real deep.” She laughs despite everything. She pauses and considers continuing.

“To Veronica,” she reads. “I’m sorry I was never the love you thought I was. I’m sorry that I couldn’t protect you enough. I wish we had met before. I hope you remember me. Yours, JD.” When she looks at him, his eyes are closed and she nearly panics until she sees his chest rising and falling and hears his strained breathing. She sits there in silence for a while, keeping her eyes on him, assuming him unconscious. “I love you. Damn it, after everything you did, I love you, and what kind of idiot does that make me?”

“I,” he wheezes and she jolts. He heard what she said. “I love you too… As much as I could have.” She leans over him and touches his face. His skin is almost grey now. After what seems like forever, he opens his eyes. “I wanted the world to be right for you. I never wanted you to cry again.”

“I guess the irony isn’t lost on you,” she says. “After everything, you’re the one that made me cry.” He nods slowly, his eyes drifting shut again. He coughs painfully, struggling to breathe.

“That was nice, what you wrote,” he says. “Really. Especially that last part. People are gonna think I was deep. Special. Romantic, even. Some tragic anti-hero.” She nods, not bothering to wipe her tears. “I’m going to guess the similarity is incredible.”

“Yeah,” she answers, her throat tight. Part of her wants to shake him and make him hold on. Part of her wishes there had been another way.

“You need to stick around here now,” he says. “Make things better. Clean up the mess down here.” She doesn’t want to know what he means by that, but in her mind, she thinks she knows where to start. A red scrunchie that should be meaningless. She’ll make it meaningless. “I worship you.” He must be hanging on by a thread now. Nothing he’s saying is in any way coherent.

She remembers when he first said those words to her. In the back of her mind, a small alarm bell rang, but something else took over; something in the way he was looking at her, the way he was smiling. She wanted love and got worship. Be careful what you wish for Veronica.

“Our love is God,” he says. He frowns slightly, his body tensing. A whimper escapes his mouth and it hits her; as terrible as he is, as much pain as he’s caused to her and to the school, he’s seventeen. He’s scared “Our love is God.” He wheezes in and out. “Our love is God.” He coughs some more, blood escaping from the corners of his mouth. “Our love is God.”

“Say hi to God,” she replies.

JD lets out a final, long, pained breath. His hand goes limp, the gun rolling out of it. His head lolls to the side. When she touches his forehead, it feels like ice.

She pulls her knees against her chest. The pep rally is probably still going on upstairs, but she can’t hear it. She can’t hear anything.

Selfishly, she thinks about how people will see her now. Her image has changed a lot over the past weeks. First she was Veronica the nobody, the frumpy geek who didn’t fit in. Then she was Veronica the honorary Heather who dressed like hell on wheels and went to hot parties. Then she was both Veronica the ex-Heather and Veronica who was dating psycho trench coat kid.

Now she’ll be Veronica whose boyfriend killed himself. That’s a fun way to finish high school.

She looks up and sees the half-finished bomb still sitting on the floor.

Shit, she thinks. She gets up and stumbles her way over. She looks inside JD’s bag and finds it filled with packs of what she guesses are thermals, if she was judging by his dad’s methods. She wonders what his dad will do now. Will he show up to the funeral? Oh God, there’ll be a funeral. Will he care that his son died?

She decides she can worry about that later. She puts the unassembled bomb back in JD’s bag and takes it outside, throwing it in the dumpster, pushing it down below the rest of the garbage bags. It’ll end up in some landfill somewhere, buried under everyday trash like broken bikes and chip bags. Maybe some Slurpee cups.

It’s still not over. She’s got one more part to play.

She runs in through the front door of the school, nearly falling on her face, weak as her legs are. She stumbles through the hallway, her ears ringing, her stomach churning.

“Veronica!” Miss Fleming comes down the hallway. Veronica only imagine the sight she’s greeted with, her pale faced, tear soaked student stumbling through the hallway like a zombie. “Veronica are you all right?” She shakes her head silently.

“It’s JD,” she says flatly. “Jason Dean. He’s dead. He killed himself.”

He’s dead.

She finally allows herself to break. Allows herself to let grief catch up and take over her. Allows herself to cry.

The words echo through her mind “Jason Dean is dead”. She answers Miss Fleming’s questions without much thought. “I found him in the boiler room” “He called me to say goodbye” “I looked all over” “By the time I got there it was too late”. It’s amazing how easily lying comes to her now. She nods when Miss Fleming tells her how sorry she is and if she needs anything she’s here. She thanks her without thinking and excuses herself, running to the bathroom.

She finally empties her stomach into a toilet, not that it does much good. She feels hollowed out but at the same time too full, like she’ll burst.

She stumbles out of the cubicle and makes her way to the sink. God, she does look awful. Her face is chalk-white and tinted green, dark shadows under her red eyes, her hair is a mess, tear tracks and grime and sweat run over her face.

“You know, this could be beautiful,” Heather Chandler had said once. She doesn’t feel beautiful. She looks as messed up and exhausted and horrible as she feels.

“Veronica?” A familiar voice asks. It’s not like it used to be, but nothing could take away Martha Dunnstock’s heart.

“Hey,” she says weakly, turning to face her. She rides on a mobility scooter now, a cast on her left leg and right arm and although her sweater covers it, there’s a brace around her ribs.

And it’s all her fault.

She may as well have pushed her off that bridge herself, and why did she do it? To protect the boy who is lying cold in the boiler room.

“Martha I’m so sorry,” she sobs. “For everything, for writing that note, for not telling you, for letting Heather walk over me, for how I spoke to you.” Martha comes closer, tears in her eyes too. “I’m so sorry.”

“Thank you,” she says. Her hand reaches out and grasps Veronica’s. “And I forgive you.” Veronica knows she doesn’t deserve it, but she lets herself take it.

“I’ve missed you,” she confesses. “I should never have gone off with the Heathers in the first place.” They were never friends to her, not the way Martha is. Was. Except for maybe MacNamara.

“I missed you too,” she says. “Movie night was so dull without you.” She chews her lip anxiously. “Veronica… I’m sorry but I have to ask… is what they’re saying about JD true?” She nods, a fresh wave of tears coming over her. Martha’s mouth falls open. “I’m so sorry.” Martha pulls her into an awkward hug, but it’s the warmest, most beautiful kind of embrace she has felt and she melts into it.

“I gotta go,” she says after a long time. “But… are you free next weekend? Maybe we could pop some JiffyPop. Rent some new releases?”

“Yeah,” she answers, smiling weakly. “I’d like that.” Veronica smiles and leaves the bathroom, bracing the hallway. Students weave in and out, some too caught up in the latest gossip that’s no doubt spreading through the school to notice her. Some see her and stare, whispering in their groups. Some offer sad smiles.

“Isn’t she dating him?” she hears one say.

She pushes her way through the crowd until she finds who she’s looking for. A small, blonde girl with wide eyes in a cheerleader uniform and a sour looking girl with a red scrunchie.

“Where have you been?” MacNamara asked, throwing her arms around her. Veronica hugs back tightly, revelling in the comfort. “People are saying that JD… he didn’t, did he?” She can only nod. “Oh my God…” Veronica pushes MacNamara off her and marches up to Duke.

“You look like hell,” is all she says.

“I just got back,” she replies. She turns Duke around, ignoring her protests, and pulls the scrunchie off her.

“What are you doing?” Veronica kisses her cheek, leaving her speechless for the first time in a while. It’s not an unpleasant sight.

“Good news kids, war is over. New sheriff’s in town,” she says. “So hang up your weapons and start playing nice. Or whatever.” JD thought the only place Heathers and Marthas could get along was Heaven. Maybe he’ll be wrong about that. “Martha and I are doing a movie night next Saturday. If you want to come there’s room on my couch. BYOB. Bring your own blanket.”

“That sounds nice,” MacNamara says. She and Veronica share a heartfelt smile, while Duke looks on, her eyes conflicted.

“There’s room for you too, Heather,” she tells her. “Should you decide to come.”

She turns and walks off down the hall. Despite everything that’s happened in the past two hours, she feels a weight lift in her chest. She feels hope. She watches the social hierarchy of Westerburg fall in front of her and damn does it feel good.

Still, it’s not over. It won’t be for a long time.

She explains it to her parents. Explains that her “friend” JD killed himself. She lets them hug her and tell her how sorry they are and if she needs anything, they’re there for her. She sleeps all weekend, re-reading her diary entries from the moment they met. Laughing at the funny parts, crying during everything else. She picks at the food her parents bring up for her. She lets them kiss her forehead. She sleeps two to three hours at a time, waking up with a start each time. Sometimes she dreams of JD and her in her bed, while he kisses her and tells her that she’s the most perfect thing he’s ever seen. Sometimes she dreams of them dancing, him spinning her around and making her breathless.

Sometimes she dreams of Kurt and Ram lying lifeless with bullet holes in their chests, of Heather Chandler coughing up drain cleaner, or Martha lying broken with empty eyes under a bridge, of the school gym going up in smoke while she watches safely in JD’s arms, of JD bleeding out on a boiler room floor.

She always wakes up screaming at those.

On Monday, there’s a special assembly held in memory of Jason Dean. His suicide note gets spread around the school like a shiny new toy. Everyone sees him in a new light, the tortured romantic hero whose heart had too much pain to bear.

She hides in the bathroom at lunch. She’s unable to eat anything, so she just sits there with her arms wrapped around herself, wanting to disappear. She listens to the girls outside; JD has become a topic of bathroom gossip now, Westerburg’s newest pin-up.

They call him Jason Dean now, which makes her stomach turn more than anything. He was never Jason to her. He hated it when people used that name for him. JD was what he called himself, and it suited him. Jason Dean is the tortured soul, the one who searched for friends in the pages of books, the perfect prince to Veronica’s princess, the boy taken too soon, the perfect image of a tragic teenager, the boy who hung out at the 7/11 to escape his sad home life and stare up at the stars. JD was angry and violent, smart, cynical but cunning. Too smart, too cunning. He was the one who used books to make himself more articulate, holding on to some degree of control. He was the one who deliberately gave himself brain freezes so he couldn’t feel anything. He was all the ugly, twisted parts that the town wanted to hide away under the image they had crafted.

Jason Dean is the boy who was too beautiful to live. JD was the ticking time bomb that was bound to go off.

“Did you see what he wrote to her?” a girl says. “So romantic.”

“I wish I had a boyfriend like him,” her friend says.

No, Veronica thinks. You really don’t.

After school, she sits on one of the benches outside. It’s cold now and all she has on her is her flimsy blue blazer. She watches as her breath comes out in puffs of smoke then looks at her blank diary pages. After pages and pages of angry scrawling followed by short entries where she wallowed in misery and pity, she finds she can’t write anything. Her mind buzzes with thoughts she can’t seem to articulate any more.

Dear Diary, she writes.

What else is there for her to say that hasn’t been said already. She hates him? She misses him? She hates herself for letting this happen? She’s disgusted with the school for what they’re saying about him? How even people who never gave him a second glance are now half in love with him, waiting for their Jason Dean?

She clicks her pen closed and open, closed and open, closed and open. She’s poured out her heart and soul, her pain and anguish, rage and grief, and now what else is there to write?

Maybe the truth.

Dear Diary, I wish he’d stayed around a little longer.

And that’s it.

#heathers ff #veronica sawyer #jason dean #heathers the musical #5000 words of just pure fuckin angst #not 100% sure about tht ending but wyd #not sure if i should tag this as jdonica or not

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ashleyrobyn · 3 years

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I started doing art and music because i wanted my soul and my voice to live on after I died. You see, when I was young, I never expected to live this long. My brother told me every day that he would kill me and it would be the best day of his life, while he was beating me, kneeling on my chest, and throwing me around like a rag doll. He would strangle me and block off my nose and mouth just to watch the fear in my eyes. I'd lay in bed at night staring at the birds on my ugly wallpaper in my little bed wondering how long I had. Wondering if it would be scary once he finally beat me to death. Having nightmares of being buried in the backyard next to the dog. I was so young. And i hid in my room and started creating things because I wanted the people I loved to have something to remember me by... When my brother killed me. It's just insane... It just kind of hit me.

The craziest part is that I actually made it to adulthood. People will forever think that's a dramatization but it really is a miracle. I was beaten almost daily up until the day before my 14th birthday. That was the day my mom finally left my dad over her resentment of the years he spent abusing her. She told me she was going to do it in the summer. To quietly pack my favorite things in the next couple months and not to breathe a word of it to anyone. The abuse seemed more bareable during those months when I knew my salvation was finally coming.

My dad resented me for not telling him ahead of time. I knew and didn't warn him. Him and my 2 brothers felt that I had betrayed them. He blamed me for the dissolution of the family and put all his suicidal thoughts on me the next day, for my 14th birthday phone call from him. But had I told him like he thinks I should have, him and my brother would have killed us and let the buzzards pick our bones clean in the woods. These are not the people that talk out problems. They are not the ones that try counseling. We would have both been destroyed for wanting to go and even at that age I knew that.

I traded abuse for neglect as my mother worked a lot, and focused on her new relationship with the man I'd later call my stepdad, and built her life back up from scratch. I joined marching band in my freshman year of high school to try and escape the pain of my total lack of family and I worked on a dairy farm starting at age 14 to support myself as far as hygiene, clothes, and food. My dad never paid a dollar of child support. My mom was either too stubborn or too scared to ever push for it.

There was no love felt. I felt like my mom just took me out of obligation. I didn't feel loved or like I belonged. My stepdad had no kids of his own. He didn't seem to like sharing my mom's attention with me. In hindsight, a damaged teenage girl IS a hell of a crash course in parenting, but I digress.

I had an older friend named Heather, who had a car. She gave me something to do. A place to go to get away. But she had an ex that was stalking her and I didn't know it at the time. She introduced him to me. He was 21 and I was 15 but she encouraged us to date so he would leave her alone. Again, hindsight is 20/20. I was desperate for love and a sense of belonging, support, and protection. He manipulated me into thinking I had that with him. All I needed to give in return was my unconditional obedience and loyalty.

He let me come to him with my problems. He let me be vulnerable with him. Then he called it love when he took advantage of my weakness. I was with him for 7 months but wanted out by the end of month 2. Once I tried to pull away, he started to stalk me as well. He lived over an hour away but would show up at my high school unannounced and demand me to skip class and leave with him. If i hesitated he woukd question my loyalty and threaten to kill himself if i didn't love him the way he loved me. So i went. He had connections within my school report to him if they saw me talking to any males. He forbade me wearing makeup or looking cute at all unless it was just for him. He watched my social media like a hawk, harassing any guy that liked my pics or commented. Demanding I delete them all or else he would kill himself. I was so naive. I had no idea how those types of games worked at the time and I feared that he actually would kill himself and that it would be my fault so he kept me in his clutches for awhile. I wasn't even allowed to focus on family, friends, or class because if I didn't text him back immediately and constantly, he would accuse me of cheating and make threats. I blamed myself for choosing this but really I guess a lack of family support and a safe place to communicate was really to blame. My adult "friend" who encouraged us to meet and date. The adult "man" that thought this was ok...

He coerced me our entire relationship to be sexual. I didn't want to be. He wanted pics. I said no. And so again he threatened and wore me down until I didn't know if I would deserve love if I said no. I didn't want to be alone. I felt like I had no one else in the world. So after months of saying no, he made me give in. And it wasn't at all what I expected it would be like.

It took me my entire adult life to fully become aware and to process that I was being groomed and molested. And I seemed to have no way out because my father uponing learning of my "relationship" and the age difference, simply said "don't get pregnant." And walked away.

My mother and stepdad didn't agree with me being with this guy but shamed and punished me for it instead of letting me turn to them about the horrible truth of my situation. I came home from school one day in November to find all of my belongings outside of my mother's house in boxes. Her and my sister packed it all while I was at school. I was not allowed in the house even to pee while I waited for my dad to finish his shift at work and come get me. I waited for hours outside with my stuff, crying.

When my dad finally pulled up, he was annoyed to see me and all my stuff. He didn't want me but had no choice. So i loaded my boxes into the bed of his pickup, and cried under my breath the whole ride back to the place where my brother felt safe letting the monster come out on me. I faced returning to the abuse at home, while being forced to stay in a relationship with a child molester.

It was then that I started wanting to kill myself. I was already expecting to be beaten to death up until that point so it didn't take a big shift in my mentality to resort to suicidal ideations. I pretty much figured I was gonna die anyway. Might as well end my life on my own terms rather than waiting for the day my brother finished what he seemed to start with every beating.

Side note, for those who think this was just sibling rivalry and it's normal, no. I never even got to defend myself. He was huge and mentally ill, with equal amounts strength and rage. It wasn't an even match. It wasn't normal. One time, he held me down with one leg over my body while he tried to snap my shin bones over his over knee like old dead tree branches. He kept trying. It was so scary it makes my stomach churn thinking about it. I could feel my bones bending with every time he slammed them down over his knee. I was small enough to wriggle out his his grip but my legs hurt too bad afterward to run. Or the time he grabbed me by my face, and broke several of my baby molars inward. After that he helped clean up the blood and tried to bribe me with honey candy, not to tell my parents. I don't even remember my childhood except for flashbacks back to stuff like that. Otherwise, it's blank.

So anyway, I wanted to die. I continued to create though it was less. All of my song lyrics and poems were about abuse, anguish, and the peace of death.

The point of this post originally was to explain how crazy it is that this all came full circle. At the time, I thought of everything I was drawing, writing, and singing on record, as my legacy. A way to live on and haunt those who put me there. When 13 Reasons Why came out, it really resonated with me because it was so close to the way I had always imagined my own death.

Now, i am still creating a legacy but this time it is out of gratitude because despite all of this, I lived. I lived to have the chance to inspire my own children and now the legacy I am building is for them to hold onto me forever. I'm getting to do more than I ever thought possible. Even though I didn't plan it out this far because I never expected to make it, I am starting to warm up to the idea of becoming an old hippie lady. I wanna take my dark and twisted life experience and use it to create beauty for others who are suffering to behold and connect with. It would be most fulfilling to find a way to share my story in hopes that it may shed light to other children who are being abused and feel like they have no one.

I refuse to believe that my suffering was for nothing.

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p-artsypants · 6 years

Text

320 State Street (16)- November 24, 2016

FF.net | AO3

Wow guys. Just. Wow.

The last chapter was apparently…not appreciated by a lot of people. I’m sorry if you felt hurt or betrayed by our characters, but I promise that there’s always a happy ending. And the pay off will be so worth it.

But if you don’t want to read anymore, I understand.

Hopefully this chapter helps a little.

—

Silence.

Pure unadulterated silence.

Thanksgiving dinner was always a treat at the Haddock household. Gobber had a knack for cooking, and showed it in his deep fried turkey. This year, Finn Hofferson was invited to join, melding two families together in harmony. There would be corn casserole, mashed potatoes, green beans, and plenty of cranberry sauce. Really, everyone should have been in good mood.

Stoick Haddock was in the kitchen, helping to make corn and green bean casserole, but his mind was a thousand miles away. Two days ago, his brother-in-law called him for a warrant on a missing person. His son, Scott. According to Soren, since the truth came out about his affairs and Heather had asked for a divorce, Scott had taken up drinking. He hadn’t been home in two days, and Soren worried that he’d gotten in an accident. His best, and really only friend, David, had no idea where he was.

Well, the police had found his car abandoned in a parking lot with the keys and phone inside. But no Scott. He didn’t know how to make heads or tails of the situation.

Valka Haddock had returned from Africa four days ago. She still felt very jet lagged, and she was exhausted from moving and flying, and even helping with the dinner. She had stayed up late the night before making pies. Currently, she was taking a nap in her room. Toothless curled up around her, a sucker for a warm body.

Gobber was struggling with his turkey on the porch. The fryer didn’t want to start earlier, and now it was running late. They were supposed to eat at 1 o’clock, but it was leaning more towards 1:30. Not to mention, it was just too small. He, Stoick, and Finn were not small by any means, plus there was Hiccup, Astrid and Valka to feed, and he wanted to have left overs. At this rate, he wasn’t sure if they’d have enough for turkey sandwiches for dinner.

Finn Hofferson was on the road. Astrid had given directions to her boyfriend’s house, and he was thankful to have a big family to join this year. In the past, he and Astrid would go to Hospice and have thanksgiving with Axel. Volunteers in the community made food for the guests, and it was good, but it wasn’t the same. Before Hospice, Finn had been invited around to his co-workers here and there. Sometimes Axel would convince Phillis to have him over. It was different from year to year. So as Finn drove under the tunnel, he hoped that this young man that held Astrid’s heart would be good for her.

He also thought about his unpaid parking ticket, and if the Police Chief would magically know about it.

Hiccup and Astrid were cleaning the house. Hiccup washed the big windows as Astrid set the table.

You can probably guess what they were thinking about.

—

As Astrid crouched in the back trance to the church, a pair of headlights shown on her. Headlights that belonged to her own car, which had carried Hiccup back to her. The door slammed and he ran to her.

“Are you alright?” He asked, kneeling.

She smiled very softly. “As alright as I can be.”

He returned the smile, and held an arm out for her. “Let’s go home.”

She nodded and stood with him.

His touch, however delicate it had been, stung her. Maybe she thought she didn’t deserve his kindness, or maybe she felt shame. Whatever it was, the heat from his hand burned to the touch. Still, she refused to let go, because this was her Hiccup.

The seat to the car had been thoroughly cleaned, and there was no sign of blood anywhere. Astrid was grateful for it.

The ride back home was quiet. Astrid considered asking if she could turn on the radio, but couldn’t find the voice to ask. The clock glowed a miserable 2 am. There was no one on the road now, as they drove through endless darkness.

“Your left brake light is out.” He finally spoke, his voice as neutral as possible. “I got pulled over.”

Astrid looked over to him, her face full of horror.

He reached out with one hand and held hers. “He just said to make sure to get your light fixed. I didn’t get a ticket or anything.”

She swallowed. “Where you with Scott when it happened?”

“With,” He confirmed.

“And he didn’t say anything?”

“He thanked me for taking him home so he didn’t drive drunk.”

Astrid breathed heavily. “That’s…crazy lucky.”

“Crazy something.” He huffed.

At home, Hiccup pulled into the garage, and took out her big suitcase.

“I can carry that,” she tried to stop him. “I got it.”

Astrid didn’t argue, just followed him into the silent house. He took the suitcase downstairs to the basement, to her little suite.

“Thank you.” She spoke softly.

“We’ll get the rest of your stuff in the morning. Dad should be home by then.” It seemed that he was avoiding the inevitable. “Why don’t you take a shower and get ready for bed?” He suggested. “Then we’ll talk.”

She glanced at his shirt. “You should get changed too, your shirt…” She gestured at him.

He wore a black Batman shirt, but the yellow logo was totally red now, and parts of the black looked darker. “Oh, yeah. Probably. I really liked this shirt too.” He huffed.

“Soak it in hydrogen peroxide.”

“That’ll get the stain out?”

“It’s what I use.”

He looked at her smugly. “You often have blood staining your clothes?”

“I am a woman.” She responded, blankly.

“OH.” Couldn’t meet her eyes.

Without anything else he left her in peace.

Astrid took her pajama’s out, and made her way to the bathroom. She stripped off her dirty clothes and ran the shower to warm up the water. It all felt monotonous.

Since the sound of the crack of the frying pan, an invisible hand had taken hold of her throat and was slowly crushing her. Maybe it was Scott, or maybe the wounds inflicted during the fight still ached.

I’m going to kill you! I’ve always wanted to kill you!

Scott’s last words still echoed in her head, sending a chill down her spine.

She checked herself over in the mirror. There was a very clear hand shaped bruise on her throat. She figured there would be, considering what she saw on Hiccup’s throat. Some makeup should cover it easily. She was just so thankful Scott hadn’t punched her in the nose again. That had taken forever to heal, and she really didn’t want anyone to think Hiccup had hurt her.

She stepped into the water, and let the boiling temperature serve as a comfort.

She had almost lost Hiccup. His lips had turned white, and his eyes slid shut as Scott pressed into him. Her boy couldn’t even find the strength to push him away.

But now…would she lose him anyway? He had promised her he wouldn’t leave, that he would love her until the end of time. But those were just words. No matter how wonderful and earnest he had been. He came for her, at the church. He didn’t have to. He could have abandoned her, but he didn’t.

But now that this was all over, and they both had time to think…what would he say? What would he do? Forget Africa. Did he even want to be with her anymore? What if…what if…what if…?

Astrid found herself leaning against the wall, and sliding down into the tub. The porcelain was wide, wide enough for a man like Stoick. As the water filled the basin, she felt like she was drowning.

She didn’t even realize she was crying until Hiccup knocked at the door. “Astrid? Are you alright?”

“What do you think?!” It wasn’t supposed to be harsh. But the emotional storm inside her body had brewed and now overflowed. Fear, loneliness, uncertainty and overwhelming sadness gripped her in choke hold. This was Scott’s last gift to her. Gone in body, but still torturing her in spirit.

Hiccup had decidedly entered the bathroom, despite his better judgement.

The curtain wasn’t pulled back all the way, so from the door, he could see her curled up against the wall of the tub. She saw him, and pathetically covered her chest.

No words were spoken. As both were at a loss.

Truth be told, Hiccup was feeling very similar to her. He was worried she would be afraid of him for his decisions. Maybe she would push him away and refuse to be with him. What kind of missionary was he if he hid a dead body? What kind of person would he be if he lied to everyone he knew and loved?

Astrid stared into his eyes deeply, begging him for help.

He was just full of crazy ideas tonight. He knelt next to the tub, resting his arm on the edge. Then he finally spoke, “I’m not here to take advantage of you.”

“I know.” She whispered, which was hard to hear over the water.

“But…” he spoke sincerely as he glanced over the bruises on her neck. “I want you to know that I will never leave you. That this stupid thing we did tonight will not drive us apart.”

“I know…” though she said it, it didn’t sound like she believed it. “You said that earlier.”

He sat at the edge of the tub. “I feel like no matter what words I use, they won’t be enough. So I…want to show you something. And if at any time you’re uncomfortable, don’t hesitate to tell me. Okay?”

She nodded.

He leaned down to remove his leg, then followed suit with his clothes.

He stood before her, awkwardly balancing on the rim of the tub, completely naked. If she felt scared and vulnerable, he wanted to too. He waited with baited breath as she looked him over. He exposed himself to her, his body, his heart, his raw emotions, and even his ugly stump leg. If ever there was a time to turn him away, it was now.

But she didn’t.

She slowly lowered her arms and patted the tub beside her.

Gingerly, he stepped in and crouched to sit behind her.

Her face was flushed, as she was embarrassed to be participating in something so intimate with him. She looked shaky and unsure.

Hiccup gently combed her hair back, away from her face. “You’re perfect,” he assured.

She smiled, liking the feeling of his hand on her shoulder. “You are too.” She confirmed.

He leaned in and kissed her shoulder blade. He combed his fingers through her hair. “Can I wash your hair?” He asked.

She nodded.

Taking the shampoo from the rack, he squirted a little into his hand and began to massage her scalp.

It felt nice, and she felt herself start to finally relax.

He took special care to make sure none got in her eyes. Then he allowed her to rinse her hair before conditioning, and then ran a soapy washcloth over her body. All the while, he made sure to ask her permission before doing anything. The ball was in her court, and she was in control.

He draped her hair over her shoulder and washed her back. “Is this okay?”

“Yes,” she confirmed, her eyes closed. What had she been worried about? His was gentle, sweet, and kind Hiccup. She loved him for all those reasons, and in this moment, her heart was overpowered with love. How could she have doubted him?

She turned around to face him, being thrilled by the way his eyes widened as he looked at her. “Now it’s my turn.” She stated, with a smile.

She took the washcloth from him, and began to scrub his still stained arms. She attentively scrubbed at his finger nails.

It continued like that. She carefully shampooed and conditioned his hair, and made sure his skin was cleaned of blood. When she finished, she shut the water off and allowed the washcloth to rest on the bottom of the tub as she caressed his face. “Thank you.” She spoke, a serene smile on her lips.

He chuckled a little. “For what? Showing you my dinky-winky?”

Astrid snickered, the ache in her neck disappearing, and replaced with a warm tingle in her stomach. “Well, yeah. That was a treat.”

Little wrinkles appeared around his eyes as his smile widened.

“But, for this…just…showing me that you meant what you said.”

“Of course.” He took her hands in his, and kissed her knuckles. “I want to protect you. I want you to always feel safe around me.”

“Except…I was kind of uncomfortable for most of this.” She admitted.

“Oh! I’m sorry, I can leave!”

“No, I’m fine now.” She tugged him to sit again. “It took me a little to get used to it, but I’m really glad we did this.” She scooted closer to him, “this was probably the most non-sexual sexual thing I’ve ever done.”

“I was trying to keep it as non-sexual as possible, honestly.”

“I know, you want to wait until marriage. So…I think it means more that you would kind of go against what you believe in and tempt yourself, just for my sake.”

A contemplative look came over him. “I wouldn’t say that.” He made his way to the edge of the tub and sat up on it.

Puzzled, Astrid stood and fetched two towels for them. “What do you mean?”

Hiccup took the towel and wrapped up in it, as did she. “I’m going through and re-reading the Bible right now, and I’m in John, chapter 13. Right before Jesus is crucified. He takes time to wash his disciples feet. In Israel, all the roads are dusty and everyone wears sandals. So feet are the most disgusting part of the body. But Jesus humbles himself to wash them, to show them that he’s equal to them. I was trying to show…by washing you, that I don’t think any less of you. You’re still my princess. And I wanted you see me vulnerable too. Did that come across?”

“Absolutely.” She smiled. “I know you weren’t just trying to sneak a peek.”

He blushed as he grinned mischievously. “I did get a good look, though.”

“Like what you saw?”

“Uh, duh? You’re the most beautiful woman I’ve ever met.”

She grinned. “Aw thanks!”

They turned their backs to each other while they dressed. Astrid tied her wet hair up in a bun on top of her head. When they were ready, Hiccup took her by the hand and led her to his room.

Toothless was already taking up the bottom half of the mattress.

“What a surprise!” Hiccup said, feigning emotion. Astrid chuckled, before Hiccup scooped her up into his arms. She let out a surprised shriek. “Hiccup!”

“I got you!” He laughed warmly, his arms tightening around her. Only a few steps later, he dropped her onto his bed, and then leaned over her. “I swear, you are the most beautiful creature on this earth.”

Coupled with the look he was giving her, the words lit up butterflies in her stomach.

“Hiccup?”

“Yeah?”

“I love you.”

He leaned in a gave her a smoldering kiss, the kind that made her toes curl. “I love you too,” he spoke when he pulled away. He leaned down and rested his head in the crook of her neck.

Astrid quietly thread her fingers through his damp hair and listened to the labored breathing in her ear. Then she wrapped her arms around him and pulled him down to lay against her.

Here in this quiet moment, they could be safe in their little bubble, but the wages of sin and death gnawed at the edges and fought to get in.

“I’m scared.” Astrid finally admitted.

Hiccup raised his head to look down at her, tears in his eyes. “I’m terrified.”

“Hold me?” She whispered.

“Only if you hold me back.”

Together, they burrowed under the sheets, and wrapped their arms around each other. It wasn’t the most comfortable, but it was the most comforting. Tonight would be the worst. Their harrowing deeds pressed in on all sides. But they had each other, and for now, that’s all they needed.

—

“Turkey’s done!” Gobber’s shout of enthusiasm startled everyone as Astrid dropped a handful of forks with a clatter.

“The green bean casserole will be just another 5 minutes.” Stoick stated, looking at the timer. “I’ll go wake Val.”

“Astrid, where’s your Uncle?” Gobber asked, transferring the bird to a platter.

Before the girl could respond, the door bell rang. “There he is!”

“I got it!” Hiccup answered the door and greeted Finn warmly.

There was a small moment of chaos where everyone worked to put things on the table and find seats, while Finn was properly introduced to Stoick and Valka. Hugs and handshakes were exchanged, and Finn’s wine found a home on the counter with the rest of the alcohol.

The table was set, candles were lit, and everyone settled in.

“Let’s give thanks,” Stoick urged, holding out his hand. Everyone joined hands.

Astrid was expecting the Lord’s prayer, or something similar, but instead, Stoick started singing.

Thank you, Lord, for saving my soul

Thank you, Lord, for making me whole

Thank you, Lord, for giving to me

Thy great salvation so rich and free

#320 State Street #fanfiction #fanfic #httyd #how to train your dragon #hiccup #Astrid Hofferson #hiccstrid #nudity

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too-raph · 7 years

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Dragons, yu yu hakusho!

Sorry this is late..!!

Dragonsthe first character i ever fell in love with:Ruffnut!! When the second movie came out, I saw all those gifs of her ogling Eret and I was sold :’Da character that i used to love/like, but now do not:potential spoilers, but what they revealed about Trader Johan in this new RTTE season makes him more unappealing to me when he was a fun character before,a ship that i used to love/like, but now do not:Used to be more into Ruffret than I am? I still prefer it to lots of other Ruff ships tho…my ultimate favorite character™:RUFFNUT FOR SURE My wonderful daughter, the best girl, who is allowed to be “ugly” and ridiculous and even gross,prettiest character:Still Heather, probably,also a lot of the dragons just have really cool designsmy most hated character:Viggo, and now Krogan, too. I am not a fan of villains, usually, they tend to have personalities that I find unappealing. Too competent, lolmy OTP:Don’t really have one?? my NOTP:Ruff/lout and Ruff/legs and especially Ruff/settling down, having children, and proceeding to lead a normal, boring, run-of-the-mill life(…really tho I do hate the idea of her having children like have you met her?? what part of her makes everyone think she would want to be a mother ever. and what part of her makes everyone think she’d be fine being a housewife. like holy shit. she’s not even the marriage type, imo.I really despise that, since she’s a girl, everyone shoehorns her into this kind of bullshit without even considering her personality./end rant that literally nobody asked for)favorite episode:I love any episode that showcases the twins caring about each other and being competent, oh man. Also ones where Snotlout does good things. Snotlout and the twins doing ridiculous stuff together is also Great ContentFree Scauldy was really good, too! A rare Ruffnut spotlight episode.saddest death:Has there ever been like…a dragon that stayed dead..? My memory is failing me haha. Ah, and Stoick of course…favorite season:This is difficult, bc I have trouble keeping episodes straight, aha,They all have their good and bad moments, imo. I’d probably have to rewatch the whole thing to give a better answer :’Dleast favorite season:^^^character that everyone else in the fandom loves, but i hate:I mean I don’t necessarily hate Hiccup or Astrid but to me they can be…pretty boring…my ‘you’re piece of trash, but you’re still a fave’ fave:Dagur, maybe? :’DThe twins and Snotlout also unfortunately probably qualify, lol. Love these problematic kidsmy ‘beautiful cinnamon roll who deserves better than this’ fave:I still want more focus on Barf and Belch…they are a good dragon…my ‘this ship is wrong, nasty, and makes me want to cleanse my soul, but i still love it’ ship:I mean, Ruffret isn’t exactly, reciprocated, but then, I don’t exactly ship it fully anyway, somy ‘they’re kind of cute, and i lowkey ship them, but i’m not too invested’ ship: Astrid/Heather

Yu Yu Hakushothe first character i ever fell in love with:Kuwabara for sure, he’s been so lovely from day one, I’m gonna crya character that i used to love/like, but now do not:Don’t think there is one..? I don’t fall out of love with characters easily ahaa ship that i used to love/like, but now do not:also none?my ultimate favorite character™:Kazuma Kuwabara is on the fast track to becoming one of my absolute favorite characters of all time ngl. He’s just got such a big heart, and he’s so…genuinely good, and yet ridiculous and a bit rough, maybe a little dumb and a little “ugly”, but he never gives up and will do anything for people (and animals) he loves and Idk he’s just such a pure soul who proves you can achieve anything if you tryprettiest character:Botan and Shizuru!!Yomi, too. And both Kuramas, bc why would you be one pretty anime boy stereotype when you could be two pretty anime boy stereotypes.my most hated character:Toguro brothers, maybe? They made me so angry all the time.The older one was at least ridiculous but imo the younger was an ass for no reason

my OTP:I have so many feelings about Kuwameshi…they just…care about each other so much…my NOTP:Nothing really stands out but this one time I saw a fic that was Yusuke/Hiei/Kurama and completely left out Kuwabara and I felt personally insulted…also I really don’t think Toguro has ever deserved Genkai everfavorite episode:There are so many wonderful episodes bc I just really love this cast of characters BUT one that stands out is episode three, y’know, the one where Kuwabara has to keep from fighting and also study to bring his test score way up just so his friend can keep the job he needs and even tho ppl beat on Kuwabara he refuses to fight back or mess this up in any way and okay listen I’m crying againsaddest death:The second time Yusuke died really got to me, what with Kuwabara crying and begging him not to while remembering their first meetings and all,also when Kuwabara “died” and Yusuke was so devastated he released more power than he even knew he hadthe fact that both of these involve both of them feeling incredibly useless for not being able to save the other makes for added sadnessoh manfavorite season:There isn’t one that really stands out, I really enjoyed the series as a whole! Wasn’t bored once.least favorite season:My heart wants to say season four bc of the (relative) lack of Kuwabara, but even the way that was handled made sure he still had plenty of presence, and it didn’t feel like he was being tossed aside at all. Plus, we got really good Hiei, Kurama, and Yusuke content, not to mention the return of the best minor characters from the Dark Tournament, So ye, in the end I love season four just as much as the others, hahacharacter that everyone else in the fandom loves, but i hate:this doesn’t count at all but I didn’t understand why everyone apparently loved Kurama so much until I met himmy ‘you’re piece of trash, but you’re still a fave’ fave:Shishiwakamaru or Suzuki maybe? If they even count anymore, they seem pretty harmless when all is said and done..Hiei…? lolBui maybe?? He was my favorite on Toguro’s team, at least,my ‘beautiful cinnamon roll who deserves better than this’ fave:Mitarai…like I mean his canon storyline was actually really good but he definitely fits the first partmy ‘this ship is wrong, nasty, and makes me want to cleanse my soul, but i still love it’ ship:…Karasu/Bui?my ‘they’re kind of cute, and i lowkey ship them, but i’m not too invested’ ship:Jin/Touya is really good!!Botan/Shizuru too!!And Hiei/Kurama, of course. Oh, also Yusuke/Keiko, especially doubled up with Kuwameshi feat. polyamorous Yusuke,

#Anonymous #thanks for asking!!!!#this made me want to rewatch YYH ahaha #I should have an ask meme tag

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pepper-chase · 7 years

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Therapy has never been her favorite thing to do. Not even her like, thirtieth favorite. It’s pretty far down. So far down that it reaches into the least-favorite end of the spectrum.

After her esophagus ripped open, it started, the constant flow of forced speaking. It never helped anything, because, to be fair, she wasn’t really trying. It wasn’t going to make her feel better, or stop hating herself, so what was the point of explaining why she didn’t want to eat? It was almost impossible for her to understand, so why would anyone else?

Even after she’d almost killed herself, talking to anyone but Gina was weird, difficult, more troubling than helpful. She’d always been a fucking burden, and dumping all the weight of her problems on someone else was fucked up, and probably wouldn’t make them go away. She could keep it locked away, deep down, and little pieces could come up occasionally, for Gina. Telling her things felt good, right, like carrying a heavy backpack and three textbooks and letting someone else take a book or two.

But Gina’s gone and she feels so alone for the first time since she sat in the pink bathwater by the ocean and stared at the knife. She’s been coasting since then, got a little better, then broke her hip and got a little worse. Now she’s sitting on the edge of her bed crying and hating herself for crying because Gina is better and Heather will be soon and all she can think is that they left her, like everyone else. Like Tess, like every foster parent, like God, like Hanna. She wants to release it all, bleed it out, puke it out, something. She surprises herself when she thinks maybe she could talk it out instead.

She sits in front of the blonde therapist, somehow talked into a fizzy tea that has something like 6 billion little organisms living in it. Maybe she just offered and her dumb fat mouth said yes before she could stop it. She’ll take two sips, then it’ll get flat and warm and she’ll abandon it. She doesn’t want those extra calories she doesn’t want more pounds they’ve forced too much and ninety-five feels too much like jiggly thighs and standing on the scale in front of everyone and wanting to disappear completely.

“I’m glad you came to see me. What do you want to talk about?”

“I don’t know. I just want to get some shit out before I decide to cut myself or barf.”

“You made a good decision. Can you explain why cutting or purging is your typical answer to stressors?”

This is already annoying, but she’s trying. “Because. I have to get some of this out. It hurts too much to leave it all in. And I don’t believe in talking shit out.”

“Well, you’re here, aren’t you?”

Pepper leans to her left, sticking both feet under her right hip, but doesn’t respond to that.

“So, what do you want to get out?”

Again, she doesn’t know.

“Did anything specific upset you?”

“The only two people I love are leaving me here.”

“Let’s talk about that.”

Pepper says Heather is the only real family she has, Karl and Tess are fake and don’t know her, even if they buy her things and try to make her like them. Dallon says that they’re probably desperate for a way in, and she has to help them out a little. Pepper just stares at the desk. Anyway, Heather is what she always needed, someone who stuck up for her and believed in her and cared, who was around just because she wanted to be, not because she had to be or because she was getting paid for it. She was like a cool older sister who thought she was cool, and smart, and pretty, and nobody ever thought that, at least, not in a way that was obvious or made her feel loved.

She says Gina is like other-kind-of-family, like they might end up sharing a last name someday kind of family. She didn’t think it would ever happen again because Hanna was the first one to love her, ever, at all, the first person to say you are worth my time and money and effort I want you to be alive I love you and she was suddenly gone and she never said it back. So she spent three years trying to make up for it, nightly visits and occasional brushes with death the closest she got, then she said Hanna I’m coming and Hanna said NO! and made her stay because Gina’s mom killed herself and what the hell was she going to do if she did, too? And Gina won over Hanna, and no one had ever done that before. And she went back, left the knife in the hotel room and let them take her back. Because she loved her. She let her talk and she listened and smiled wide and didn’t judge but she pushed because she fucking cared. She loved her, and-- she loved her back. And this time she said it. And everything was good.

“So, you just told me how much both of these people love you. And how you love them.”

“And?”

“So, why do you feel abandoned? You said the note promised you’d see each other again, and I’m sure Heather feels the same way.”

“I’m just tired of people leaving me! They’ll get out there and realize they don’t want me. And I’m never fucking getting out, I’ll die in here.”

Of course, she asks why she thinks that. Because Tess dumped her and decided she didn’t need her anyway and left her there until she was seventeen and too fucked up to feel anything but bitterness. And everyone she lived with for sixteen years just said fuck this and sent her back, over and over, return to sender. ( We don’t want this one. She’s not good enough. ) And God obviously hated her, because what the hell did she do to deserve all this crap?

Dallon slides her notepad over to let her make a list.

ALL THE CRAP GOD GAVE ME - pepper chase 1. a shitty body 2. a fucked up brain 3. a mom who threw me away 4. a brother who apparently did not ask about why i was thrown away enough to instill guilt before i was fucking seventeen 5. self loathing 6. a dead girlfriend 7. no spiritual guidance. seriously. no fuckin leads man 8. stretch marks 9. sadness 10. nothing good to offer the world #worthless trash

By now, she’s crying, digging tissues into her eyes. “And then, like, even she left me, so, fuck me I guess.” The words slip out before she knows what she’s saying.

Dallon says Hanna didn’t get to choose. Pepper knows that. But everyone else did, so why did they leave? They didn’t care. Dallon reminds her that Gina and Heather care. And they have no reason to change their minds about her. “They know just about everything, don’t they?” She nods. “So what would make them decide they’re out, suddenly?” She doesn’t know. “They won’t,” She answers for her. “You just tell yourself bad things are going to happen so you won’t be disappointed by anyone. And you don’t expect anything from yourself because you think you’ll let yourself down, too.”

“Do you trust them?”

“Of course.”

“Then, trust them.”

Dallon looks at the list.

“Why do you hate your body?”

“It’s ugly.”

“When did you decide that?”

“A long time ago.”

“When did you start acting on it?”

“2013. I wanted people to like me.”

“You wanted to like yourself?”

No answer.

“So, if it hasn’t helped so far, what makes it hard to give it up?”

She says she’s scared. Of what? It’s hard to answer.

Falling apart.

Dallon says she needed to be in control, after years of watching everyone else move her around and put her in the trash and leave her behind. She says she can take control of her life completely now, not just this tiny part of it. She says actually, the hateful alt-Pepper in her head is controlling her now, making her go further than she ever wanted to. And she can stop her.

Pepper says she doesn’t know how.

“Yes, you do.”

She must not understand how it all works. No, she doesn’t know how. If she did, she would be better by now--

“You came here today. You won today. You can win again.”

She says a lot of other stuff, but that sticks.

She decides she wants to win-- she knew it when she got up out of the bathtub, let Jordan hold her. Now she just has to fight.

#i feel like this is all over the place #but important #bio #ft.dallon #tw:anorexia #tw:bulimia #tw:self harm #tw:mention of suicide #tw:depression

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fuckyeah-esmeralda-seay-reynolds · 7 years

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One Model’s Road to Recovering from an Eating Disorder

"DIETING" SINCE CHILDHOOD, HER EATING HABITS SPUN OUT OF CONTROL UNTIL SHE GOT HELP AND FACED HER ISSUES HEAD-ON. By Esmeralda Seay-Reynolds [ http://www.toneandstyle.com/one-models-road-to-recovering-from-an-eating-disorder/ ] I began modeling when I was sixteen years old. I was tall and blonde with pale skin, big eyes, and even bigger ambitions. I was going to become a supermodel and drink tea with Grace Coddington, paint watercolors with Karl Lagerfeld, and rub shoulders with Sofia Coppola. It was a big plan for a young girl from rural Pennsylvania, but I was smart, hardworking, and loved the industry. In the end, I didn’t land so far from my dream. I was a rising model, traveling the world and making serious connections, but inside, I was falling apart. Almost a year ago I entered Evergreen Eating Recovery Center in Denver, Colorado, considered by many as the premier facility for eating disorders in the United States. It was a locked facility of grey and green walls, and much of my time there I was filled with resentment. But never in my anger, did I blame fashion for what I’d done to my own body. Modeling wasn’t what made me sick; conversely, it’s what saved me. My whole life, I was raised to believe perfection was not an idea, but an achievable goal. My mother—a strong willed woman whom I love dearly, but who had exacting standards when it came to my appearance—had my hair dyed starting in second grade and chose what I wore every day. She also, with my father’s support, put me on “diets” starting at seven. Given this, it’s not much of a surprise I developed an eating disorder, but what is surprising is how long it took people to notice. I was 15 when my problems truly began. I was already fairly thin, and it’s hard to say exactly what triggered it, aside from the obvious desire for recognition from my otherwise oblivious parents. It started with salads and what I perceived to be a normal amount of calorie restriction for a girl who wanted to lose a few pounds, but within a month, I was eating nothing for days and purging what little I did eat. I recall once crying over eating a mushroom, then running upstairs, blasting my bathroom radio, and climbing into the shower with my clothes on so I could vomit without being heard. My diet had stopped being a diet. I kept cutting out foods and purging because I got a rush from it. With every new bone that appeared in the mirror, I got a kind of euphoric high—a feeling of pride and accomplishment that even being a straight A student didn’t give me. I began leaving classes to look for ribs and bones in the bathroom mirror, and when I was in class, I would find myself stroking my collarbones and wrapping my hand around my upper arms (always my least favorite part of my body). If my index finger and thumb couldn’t meet, I’d fly into a panicked fury. It was an addiction, not just to“thinness,” but to the feeling of control it gave me, the sense of power and achievement that came with knowing I could control the way my body looked, when everything else was in chaos. The problem was, I wasn’t in control at all. My sickness was. A year later, my eating disorder had become a way of life, and it could easily have continued that way, but then something big happened: I got signed. It was Monday, June 10th of 2013, when I walked into a modeling agency’s open call and was offered a contract. I was 16, and by that September I was traveling the world, deemed a “top newcomer” and “one to watch.” I was working with the best in the business, with more money at my fingertips than I knew what to do with, and it seemed as if all my fashion dreams were coming true. But all the glamorous parts of my job that I should have been enjoying, I couldn’t. I remember being in Paris, staring out my bedroom window at the bright lights of the Eiffel tower and the dark mysterious winding streets lined by ornate houses and cottages, too tired and too cold to dare to wander outside. I remember photographers stopping me in the streets after fashion shows and the little girls clamoring in wonder at “the model” before them, but being too distracted by my own disordered thoughts to even remember to smile. I was hungry, exhausted, and my brain clicked so slow it was hard to even talk at a normal pace. Everything around me seemed to fade into a grey of depression and anxiety. Then, just after I turned 17 and had been modeling for a little over a year, my bookers told me they were “concerned.” About what? I thought to myself, though deep down I knew exactly what they’d meant. They told me that clients (designers, casting directors, etc.) had called asking if I needed help. I was, apparently, way too thin. I remember feeling embarrassed, humiliated, and completely furious. I couldn’t see what everyone else saw when they looked at me. Where they saw illness, I saw control and self-discipline. A few days later, after my agents had sat me down, I had a seizure. I was in a doctor’s office because I’d cut my finger, and then, suddenly, everything went black. All I could think was that I was going to die without ever having been kissed. When I woke up I was on the floor, a disarray of knocked over papers and bins all around me, my body pinned down by my doctor, his eyes filled with a mix of concern and terror. My organs were going into failure. My parents yelled at me to eat, offering options of food, under the delusion that I’d “accidentally” gotten so thin. My mother screamed at me and told me how “ugly” and “disgusting” I looked. Never once did she or my father ask if I was ok. They couldn’t fathom that I’d done this to myself on purpose, or that their little girl had something “wrong” with her. Only my bookers understood the complexity of my situation. They told me what I needed to hear: that they cared about me and that they just wanted me to be healthy. They were kind and supportive, but most importantly they got me exactly what I needed, or more precisely “who” I needed. Her name was Heather Marr. Heather may be one of the top trainers in the U.S., but to me, she’s the woman who saved my life. Heather listened to me and didn’t make me feel ashamed or embarrassed for my messed up eating habits or thoughts. She taught me how to eat and exercise, that protein wasn’t going to make me fat and that I didn’t need to exercise for hours to stay lean. She changed my body, but she also changed the way I viewed it. Instead of bones I started looking for abs, and instead of trying to encircle my arms, I felt for their strength. My body was strong and capable, and my brain was speeding faster than a Ferrari. It made me feel powerful, important, and beautiful. My organs completely recovered within a month and I went on to have the best runway season of my career. In the Fall/ Winter 2015 shows, I walked for Marc Jacobs, Giles, Fendi, Saint Laurent, Dolce and Gabbana, Gucci, Vionnet, and various others whom I was also offered campaigns with. Every day I made the choice to get up and eat, despite the voice in my head telling me not to. My ED (eating disorder) would say don’t eat, you can be in control, just put down the plate, you don’t deserve to eat today, you don’t matter anyway, nobody really sees you anyway, why not disappear? but this time, I knew not to listen to them. I knew that I had people around me who were watching out for me, whom I could depend on, whom I did matter to, and who did see me. It was hard, some days so hard I’d break down and scream into a pillow, but I did eat, everyday. I stayed strong throughout the rest of my modeling career, and after I switched out of the field last year to my agency’s acting and artist boards, I went—with their support—to Evergreen to finally tackle some of the deeper issues related to my eating disorder. In the insanity of being in a locked building for four months where you have supervised pee times and daily vitals taken, I had the hardest and best experience of my life, because not only was it recovery, it was discovery. I discovered the truth about my disorder and about myself. And that was this: My disease had become a part of me, but it wasn’t as the friend I thought it was. It was a safety blanket. Unlike jobs, unlike affection, I could rely on my not eating to make me thin. It always came through for me. But my anorexia was an addiction, and the safety blanket it provided was killing me. So what kind of safety was that? Now, almost a year later, I have an apartment in the West Village, a new kitten and a pint of Chocolate Mint gelato in my freezer. I’ve been out of treatment for nearly eight months, and being healthy is still difficult at times, but I refuse to relapse. I eat three meals and snacks a day, meet with a nutritionist and a therapist once a week, take long walks by the Hudson, and occasionally grab a cupcake from Magnolia’s Bakery while I stroll through Bloomingdales and giggle at the ad campaigns of my model friends. I no longer see my body as an art project, but rather the portfolio holding the art. Now when I put on my sneakers or put down a fork it’s because my body is telling me to, not a voice in my head. As for my appearance, I try not to look in mirrors too often, or even photos of myself (which as a former model, can be rather hard to avoid), but when I do, I remind myself that my body is something that needs to be taken care of so I can achieve the things I really want in life, not the thing to be achieved. And also, that the way my body is, is beautiful, because it’s the way it was meant to be, and that’s all that matters. I am 19 years old, and am currently working on getting two books published. One is a novel with artwork and the other is an art and poetry book; both were written during my stay in treatment. I’m pursuing acting with a fire-like passion and working on a script for a movie. I’m aiming for the stars, for the whole freaking universe, and maybe that’s a lot, but I’ve fought for this life, and I’m going to sure as hell going to make the most of it. (Author’s note: If you’re out there reading this, and you recognize yourself in this story, even a small part, know you’re not alone, you are not insane, and just because people may not see you, or the pain you’re in, that does not mean you are not worth seeing or the pain you are in is not real. You matter and you can get better.)

#eating disoder recovery #esmeralda seay reynolds #esmeralda seay-reynolds #model #female model #I'm so proud of her #so happy #this is so important #eating disorder

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