#and she'd better be fucking dark skinned i swear to god

[azurlily]

Dont ask just read, this is what a bored and horny mind can come up with. Yes, this woman needs a name so for now we will call her LSM. What does that stand for? Lets find out together. Completely UNEDITED.

Lesbian Sugar Mommy

You had a daily schedule, a routine. You followed this routine everyday for years. For years. So you being poor as hell at only 24, being barely able to afford food and rent. It was an all time low for you, and an embarrassing one at that. Recently your friend recommends you try a sugar dating app. At first you thought it was stupid, but mulled it over and remembered how broke you were. You made a profile and it took a couple days before you matched with a woman. At first you were incredibly awkward when texting and felt embarrassed. She seemed like the kindest woman you've ever met. She understood you and was better than any man or woman you had previously dated.

You were honestly pretty enamored with her, she has dark green eyes. Like a forest green, god they're beautiful, and you swear they change color depending on what she's wearing. Her hair is long and dark, contrasting her lightly tan skin. Her hair is slightly curly, definitely not straight. In the many pictures she's sent you, you notice all her nails are perfect manicured, but two on each finger have been cut down completely. You didn't bother asking, weren't a virgin or stupid, simply poor. You two began talking a bit more about finances after a couple weeks. She listened to you talk about your financial situation, how you could barely keep a roof over your head. By the end of your two and a half hour conversation, you found yourself being wired $10,000. It wasn't as if it was out of nowhere considering what the conversation was, but it was surprising. LSM had said she wanted to give you a bit of money to keep you going for the month. She had not said she was give 10,000 fucking dollars! You didn't know what to do with the money. Other than pay your bills and let the rest sit.

For a couple days you were worried she'd want it all back, but no, instead she asked if you wanted more.

"Well I didn't give you that much...so I'm just making sure it's enough. I can give you plenty more, sugar."

You had reassured her it was enough, much more than enough. In the following days you were finding her flirting with you more, being more straightforward. You blushed everytime she made a crude joke, but you almost wished it was a statement.

When LSM had asked if you wanted to have dinner at her place you agreed. You wondered how the night would go, if you would fuck up and she'd be mad. You hoped the night went as well as possible, and if not, that she'd at least tell you.

The night went a lot of different ways. At first she was playing the kind and gracious host, then she was flirting with you. Finally you had both drank a little too much of her expensive red wine, and she fucked you against her king size bed.

You dont remember the first little bit, but you certainly remember how your night ended. Well not all of it, that woman has the sex drive of a beast. She continued until she couldn't, until you couldn't walk and she couldn't see straight. If nothing else; your legs will remember this until you die.

"Good morning sugar, how are you feeling? I hope I wasn't too rough on you, although I can't say it was entirely my fault. You kept begging me to keep going, and who am I to deny you?"

You whined, talking hurt, and you couldn't move without some part of your body below your waist hurting. You sit up just a enough and look at yourself in your phone mirror. Oh she knew exactly what she was doing, theres a massive bite mark on your shoulder. Everywhere else there's hickeys, like they're changing color.

"Before you get mad- please look at my back!"

She turned and you saw large scratch marks running down her back. From her shoulders to her ass, you can also see quite the array of bites on her shoulder. One looks like it was actually bleeding. Your reaction must be funny because she's laughing like crazy. She gently cups your face and kisses your lips.

"So pretty. My girl is so pretty arent you? Mommy's little girl."

You just laid in her arms for a while, letting her talk about whatever she wanted. You were tired and her touch made you weak. You began thinking about your job, did you have to call in to work today? Were you working today? You asked LSM, but she just smiled and shook her head.

"You wont need your job anymore, at least not this one. I've already sent your monthly allowance over to you. You can quit that job anytime, it'll give you more time for me."

Monthly allowance? You pulled away to check your bank account. Sure enough she had transferred over $40,000.

You stared at the number for a moment a then looked back at her. You assumed she was some sort of big millionaire, but now that you're looking around. Really looking. You dont want to know what this woman does for a living.

"Pay no mind sugar, now come here. I'll have someone bring breakfast and we can stay in bed all day!"

#wlw #lesbian #im bad at this #women are hot #i cant write #sugar mommy #lesbian sugar mommy #lesbian sugar mommy x reader #rich #unedited #i tried #she might be in the mafia but i am not confirming nor denying that #maybe shes a mafia boss #maybe she is just really really rich #i dont see this as smut

[argisthebulwark]

Tbh you should post about Mercer more 👀

tbh you're right. i really like writing about Mercer because it's so fun to make him fucked up and violent. something in my brain always fears that i'm stepping on people's toes when i stray out of the Brynjolf and Miraak zone though lol. i'll add a snippet below the cut from an unfinished Mercer story i was working on a while ago. cw for some swears and blood/violence. also 10000% inspired by @daedrabait if you need mercer content PLS read his writing

"Better watch that mouth of yours, kid." Mercer's tone was clipped, eyes glaring down at whatever parchment Maven's crony had delivered. "Brynjolf might've recruited you but you haven't proven shit to me. Just another drain on our coffers." "Proving myself to you is the least of my worries." She scoffed, making a show of each motion while inspecting the blade of her dagger. The practice dummy's stuffing floated down to the stone floor, though any pride at the sight was outweighed by the annoyance of Mercer's presence. "Oh? Who you worried about, then?" She could hear the sneer in his voice but refused to look, not wanting to give him the satisfaction of knowing he'd gotten under her skin. "If one of these lads caught your eye, by all means -" "Shut the fuck up." Another slash of the dagger, more hay spilling to the floor. It was a comfort to feel the cool metal in her hand, to know that she could turn it on him any moment. "If you're willin' to let one of these greaseballs into your cot, that's none of my business." It all happened so fast. Rage burned through all sensibility, all pretense failing at the sheer annoyance only Mercer could incite. Her blade pressed to his throat, that fucking smirk on his face only fueling her desire to end him. Blood trickled over the blade but he did little to fight back, chair teetering on its hind legs under her hold. "Got quite a temper." Mercer's laugh was dry, one hand wrapping around her wrist. Gods, she wanted to do it - to shut him up forever, to never hear another one of his biting remarks ever again. Something deep within her stilled her hand, something disgustingly close to arousal. She could feel every callous on his fingers where they wrapped around her wrist, terrified that he felt the erratic beat of her heart. "Who I choose to fuck is none of your regard." She growled, teeth gritted against the insults begging to be unleashed. He hardly reacted to her words, simply waiting. His silence was far worse than any taunt - he knew she wouldn't kill him. The world tilted, spinning before it stopped harshly. Dark spots bloomed across her vision and pain splintered through her skull when it smashed into his desk. Gasping for air she struggled to keep her arm up, Mercer's palm forcing it toward her throat. Panic jolted through her and she squirmed away, eyes never straying from the blade stained with his blood. It was a terrible sight - though, where the disgust should be she found only arousal, heat flashing under her skin when Mercer's chest pressed to hers. That damned smirk was still on his face, though there was a wild look in his eye, unfamiliar and violent. "If you pull a blade on me again," his voice was deadly smooth, a tone she'd never heard before. "Better be ready to kill me."

#asks #anon #writing #skyrim #mercer frey

[rose-coloured-prince]

The Shadows Will Never Find You

Pre-romantic Prinxiety, Fantasy Au

Word Count: 1,756

Warnings: Fighting, Blood, Violence, Kidnapping, War(?), Knife/Weapons, Fainting, Campfire ment,

Summary: Virgil protects Roman from everyone who's out to get to the prince.

-

The crackling of the fire and the soft rustle of the leaves had lulled Roman to sleep which was good on Virgil's anxiety. He carded his fingers through Roman's curls as his head rested in his lap.

Virgil was tired too but he's keeping lookout. They can't get to him. He's gotta make sure they don't get to him.

Roman doesn't deserve this. He deserves to be back home, dressed all pretty, and painting or singing or whatever things he did while Virgil watched from afar, not running for his life, exhausted, covered in sweat and dirt.

Not to mention the fact that he feels so guilty. He knew that Evercrest would be attacked like this. Well, he didn't know but he had heard. He could've said something and he didn't. He didn't say a fucking word. He got Roman away in time. That's all that matters. Roman's safe...

Virgil immediately felt the lack of weight on his legs and warmth by his side and his eyes snapped open just in time to see Roman struggling to get out of someone's grip, a yelp barely escaping his lips before being covered by hand. He was looking right at Virgil utterly terrified.

"Shit." Virgil jumped up quickly, chasing after him.

He fell asleep! He fucking fell asleep and it got Roman in trouble! Fucking hell, Virgil.

He noticed there were a few others in the dark with the person who had taken Roman. Virgil stopped running to put both of his hands out and have the area around Virgil and the people who've taken Roman sealed and it glowed and faded to show that the spell had been cast. They cursed.

"Put him down!" Virgil growled, his hands still held out. They turned to him and Virgil could see that Roman was still fearfully squirming to get away. "I mean it."

The guy holding the runaway prince laughed. A smaller person to his left pulled out a knife and held it to Roman's throat.

Virgil didn't flinch. They wouldn't kill him.

"How about you let us go and the prince lives?" He can hear the grin just off of their words even if he can't see it in the dark behind their mask.

"You and I both know you need him alive." Out of the corner of his eye he sees the lady to the right of the guy holding Roman make a hand motion off into the distance. He didn't pay too much mind to it as he was too focused on Roman.

They huffed, "Fine. You're right. ... We don't need him to speak though." They slowly slice the knife against Roman's skin and Roman screams behind the guy's hand.

"Wait! Stop!" Virgil yells frantically and they do. He's gotta figure out something... something... something...

"He's a person! Not an object or a machine. You guys have to have better morality than to try and use him the way that you want."

The guy holding Roman scoffs, "Says the magic user who ran away with him."

Virgil watched the body collapse to the floor and huffed from the exhaustion of fighting.

"...You're a magic user?" His voice came out hushed and alarmed.

Damn. He turned back to Roman. "Listen, I-"

Roman stepped away from him. "No. You lied to me. You're a magic user!"

"I'm sorry. Please listen to me." Virgil tried to come closer to Roman.

"No! Get away from me! I don't trust you anymore!"

"I promise I wouldn't hurt you!" Virgil pleaded. "I swear I'm just trying to protect you. I... I lied cause I didn't want you to think I was one of the magic users I said would try and get you."

"That's exactly what one of them would say isn't it? Oh my gods. I'm so stupid." He turned away.

It's fine. He knows Roman trusts him now. He doesn't need to worry about that. Just get him back.

Virgil opens his mouth to say something when the force field flickered. He looked back at the girl to the right who was staring back at him, scared that she'd been caught trying to break it.

She shot a flash of light toward Virgil and broke the force field while Virgil was distracted, dealing with that.

"Go!" She shouted and they took off again. Virgil was right back to chasing them.

Virgil threw his hand out, having the roots of a tree trip the girl down. That'll keep her down for a bit.

He pushed his hands out and a gust of wind rushes forward pushing the guy holding Roman over which caused Roman to fall out of his grasp. Roman was disoriented trying to get up and away. The other kidnapper next to him only tripped up a little bit. However, he saw that Roman had gotten loose and then glanced back at Virgil. He, then, lunged out to grab Roman pulling him along.

Roman tries to pull himself away from them, yelling for Virgil to come get him.

Virgil caught up to them, grabbing on to the person's wrist where they were holding Roman. They pulled out their knife again and Virgil placed his hand over theirs on the handle of the knife.

"Let. Him. Go."  He let his hand heat up hotter and hotter til they were shouting.

"Okay! Okay!" They let go of both the prince and the knife.

Virgil stepped away from them, shielding away Roman.

Roman tugged on Virgil's shirt. Behind them the other two had come back.

Virgil is exhausted. "Just leave us alone!" He yells.

The girl whistled and a few moments later someone dropped in seemingly from the trees and another person dropped in on the other side of them. Another person came up and another.

Virgil looked around, standing back to back with Roman. There's no way that he can take on their entire group. They're so fucked.

Roman grabs Virgil's hand in fear looking for some semblance of comfort, whispering for Virgil to get them out of this. Then the people in front of Roman stepped back, much to Roman's confusion. His irises began to glow this golden white and then Virgil's eyes followed.

"I don't get it? Why do they want me? Why risk all this?" Roman asks, while they're resting on the first night after Virgil helped him get away from... everyone who was attacking Evercrest.

"You're like an untapped source. They call it Potential. Whatever it is inside you, it's like magic you can't access but everyone else can. Mundane people too but especially magic users. And it's like a huge boost in just raw power. Power hungry magic users are going to be after you like insane but those people are rotten inside."

Roman shook his head like he couldn't wrap his head around it. "...Are you a magic user?"

Virgil froze for a second. "...No. But even still, I'm not after that from you. It's more important to me that they don't... fucking kill you trying to use you."

"Why? You don't even know me?"

"... Let's just say, I'm just a really good person and leave it at that."

Virgil instantly felt that power. He was way more alert and aware of his surroundings. He felt energy just surging through him.

The people around them got scared and that made one of them throw the first blow.

Then the battle broke out and Virgil was managing to keep Roman from being hit even with him standing in the middle of it all.

Then it ended. Just as quick.

It was like Roman blinked and everyone surrounding them ready to fight was on the ground in an instant and Virgil...

Roman looked back to Virgil who was swaying and out of breath. He watched the white glow of his eyes fade to dark brown and then Virgil collapsed and Roman's heart dropped.

"How do people even know I have this Potential?"

Virgil shrugged, "It got out. I don't know how he found out but I think your Royal Mage told someone who told someone who told someone and... yeah."

Roman groaned, throwing himself back to lay on the blanket. "Why me? Why am I the only thing with Potential?"

"I don't know the history behind it really but Potential is a divine thing. There were a group of people a long time ago who had it as well and... Well you see all they're doing to get a hold of just you. We thought no one else held Potential anymore and no one else would."

Roman looked up at Virgil, wide-eyed.

"Shit. Look. I mean what I said. I won't let anyone hurt you."

Roman quickly pushed himself back up and hugged Virgil tightly. "I appreciate it. I don't know where I'd be if you hadn't come along."

Virgil tensed at first before hesitantly wrapping his arms around Roman.

"...Of course. I'm just doing what I can."

Virgil blinked open his eyes, staring up at the trees and their rustling leaves and hearing the campfire crackling and—

Virgil sits up.

Roman looks over, from picking at his clothes and tending the fire, at Virgil, concerned. "Hey... How are you feeling?"

"What the hell happened?" Virgil asked, looking around frantically trying to gather himself. They're... back at where they set up camp? Roman had bandaged his neck up himself.

"You fought those guys and then passed out. I have never seen you do anything like that. You were taking them out like flies, like it wasn't anything." Roman recalled. "I brought you back here when you fainted."

Virgil nodded as he listened. His memory is a bit foggy but that sounds somewhat accurate. He's just glad Roman's safe. He looks up to ask about Roman's neck when he cuts him off.

"Did... I do that?"

"What?"

"You got Potential from me and you– you were able to do that?"

Oh. That makes sense.

"Yeah. I think so."

Roman's silent.

"Yeah. I see why people are trying to get that from me." He brought his knees to his chest.

"No one's getting anything from you. Not unless you allow it. We're going to get you to your parent's safe house and everything's going to be okay." Virgil says, trying to reassure him. It's all terrifying.

Roman looks up at Virgil and smiles a little. He moves over closer to him. "I guess, I'll be okay—" He wraps his arms around Virgil and Virgil follows. "—as long as you're here."

Virgil hums in acknowledgement.

The prince falls asleep again.

#sanders sides #roman sanders #virgil sanders #prinxiety #erriwrites

[perspectivestarters]

Perspective's Sentence Starters; Save Rock and Roll by Fall Out Boy (Part II)

THE MIGHTY FALL

"Oh god!"

"Why the hell is there a light that's keeping us forever?"

"Did you get dressed up?"

"I can't stop it when there's chemicals keeping us together."

"How the mighty fall."

"They fall in love."

"Oh, how the mighty fall in love."

"Your crooked love is just a pyramid scheme."

"I'm dizzy on dreams."

"If you ask me two's a whole lot lonelier than one."

"Baby, we should have left our love in the gutter where we found it."

"You think your only crime is that you got caught."

"It's getting clear, you're never coming clean."

I know you said not to call unless I'm dying.

"Even though my eyes closed, I still see you."

"I just hope that when you see me, I'm not see-through."

"Sometimes I swear, I need a day just for me."

"Like, I let her climb on top."

"I'm either fuckin' or workin', so the grind don't stop."

"They say I got screws missing, well hell, only when I'm missing you."

MISS MISSING YOU

"Don't panic."

"No, not yet."

"I know I'm the one you want to forget."

"Cue all the love to leave my heart."

"It's time for me to fall apart."

"Your hot whiskey eyes have fanned the flame."

"Maybe I'll burn a little brighter tonight."

"Let the fire breathe me back to life."

"Baby, you were my picket fence."

"I miss missing you now and then."

"Sometimes before it gets better, the darkness gets bigger."

"The person that you'd take a bullet for is behind the trigger."

"We're fading fast."

"I see through you when we're sitting in the dark."

"So give me your filth, make it rough."

"Let me trash your love."

"I will sing to you every day."

"I've heard you got it so bad."

"I am the best you'll never have."

DEATH VALLEY

"I want to see your animal side."

"Let it all out."

"I wanna see the dirt under your skin."

"I need your broken promises."

"I want the guts and glory, baby."

"This town is wasted and alone."

"Don't take love off the table yet."

"Tonight, it's just fire alarms and losing you."

"We love a lot, so we only lose a little."

"But we are alive."

"Oh, there you go, undress to impress."

"You can wear the crown but you're no princess."

"We're going to die, it's just a matter of time."

"Hard times come, good times go."

"I'm either gone in an instant or here 'til the bitter end."

"What I've got will make you feel more alive."

"I'll be your favorite drug."

YOUNG VOLCANOES

"We're the beginning of the end."

"Tonight, the foxes hunt the hounds."

"It's all over now."

"Before it has begun, we've already won."

"We are wild."

"We are like young volcanoes."

"C'mon, make it easy, say I never mattered."

"We will teach you how to make boys next door out of assholes."

RAT A TAT

"It's (Name), bitch."

"No thesis existed for burning cities down at such a rampant rate."

"They just DIY'd that shit and they built their own bombs."

"She's his suicide blonde."

"She's number than gold."

"Are you ready for another bad poem?"

"One more off key anthem."

"Remember me as I was, not as I am."

"I kept wishing she had blonde ambition and she'd let it go to my head."

"If my love is a weapon, there's no second guessing when I say."

"If my heart is a grenade, you pull the pin and say."

"You need to lower your standards."

"It's never getting any better than this."

"You settled your score."

"This is where you come to beg."

"This is what we do, baby, we nightmare you."

"I'll take your heart served up two ways."

"I'm the lonelier version of you."

"I just don't know where it went wrong."

"She's sick and she's wrong."

"I've seen bigger."

"I've lit better."

"Not a dry eye left in the house."

"Talk less, mean more."

"Go boy, run for your life."

"Let's be electric, like we were before."

SAVE ROCK AND ROLL

"I need more dreams and less life."

"I need that dark in a little more light."

"I cried tears you'll never see."

"So fuck you, you can go cry me an ocean, and leave me be."

"You are what you love, not who loves you."

"In a world full of the word 'yes', I'm here to scream no."

"Wherever I go, trouble seems to follow."

"I only plugged in to save rock and roll."

"Blood brothers in desperation."

"An oath of silence for the voice of a generation."

"How'd it get to be only me?"

"I'm the last damn kid still kicking that still believes."

"I will defend the faith."

"Oh no, we won't go."

"We don't know when to quit."

#rp sentence starters #rp sentence meme #rp sentence prompts #sentence starters #sentence meme #sentence prompts #lyric sentence starters #lyric starters #music starters #rp meme #rp memes #rp prompts #ask meme #*mystarters #*srar

[beewitch4]

I think if I saw a story about being Black and female and how that effects your view of self love and the love you receive from others, I’d cry.

#and she'd better be fucking dark skinned i swear to god #im not saying these stories DONT exist obviously i just havent had any shown to me #and i didnt realize until just now that i wanted to seek out #also like #obviously being mixed does leave me personally with a wonderful identity crisis #but when a black girl is mixed in stories its basically never about that #its so that she can have light skin and loose hair #i need to read more diverse stories this is on me #but also these stories havent been advertised to me the way others are #cuz #yknow #racism #and im getting tired of it #like do you ever get tired of writing white ppl?? #god thats too many tags #dorian rambles

[neon-vocalist]

get what you deserve- c.1

tw blood, mentions of abuse

reply, send an ask, or DM if you want to be added to the taglist!

It's no secret that Heather Chandler hates her best friend's boyfriend, even though it's against girl code on so many levels to let her know. He's sneaky, cunning, mysterious in a completely unattractive way, a liar and a manipulator. He's gotten Veronica wrapped around his little finger with threats and punishment. She's pretty sure he's killed someone. She can see in Veronica's hollow eyes and paper-thin frame that he's hurting her and driving her to hurt herself, and that makes her want to kill someone. She'd be able to treat Veronica so much better. Veronica deserves the world. Certainly not some manipulative man who toys with her emotions and feeds her insecurities.

Lost in her angry daydream, she nearly jumps out of her skin when the doorbell rings. She pauses at the mirror in an attempt to make herself look less murderous before opening the door and feeling the fury in her rise higher than it ever has before.

Veronica jumps back at the fire in her eyes, trembling in her blood stained undershirt. To be fair, it's mostly just dirty. But there's very clearly blood in the process of drying on the front. Heather quietly curses, realising she's scared her. What does she do here? Treat Veronica like she would a scared stray kitten? Nothing she's leaned in sex ed or babysitting class could ever have prepared her for this situation.

She's frozen for a while, staring at Veronica's huge dark eyes, before her inner voice sets her into motion. Stop thinking about how pretty she is and help her! Right. Help her. How does she do that? "Ronnie-" she starts, and immediately cringes when Veronica takes an audibly sharp inhale. "Crap. That's what he calls you, isn't it?" she murmurs more to herself than to her friend. "Vera. That'll work." She approaches Veronica with open hands in front of her, going with the nervous-dog approach to make sure she's aware of the incoming touch, that it's not going to further harm her. "I should probably let you in, yeah? Yeah. Come on." She nervously opens the door and prompts Veronica to take her hand. After a few moments' hesitation, the shaking, freezing hand latches onto hers. The fierce urge to protect her flares in the back of Heather's mind, and she puts what she hopes is a comforting arm around her shoulder.

"Are you alright?" she asks as she leads her friend to the couch. "Stupid question, you're not alright. Listen, babes, I'm not mad at you, alright? I'm mad at whoever did this to you. I swear to God, I will go out there and-" she stops when Veronica tightens the grip on her hand. "Sorry. No. What I meant was, I'm not mad at you, okay? I'm, like, the opposite of mad at you. Then again, you know that, if you came here." She takes a deep breath. "I'm rambling. I'm sorry. I'm worried. What happened, hun?" She internally kicks herself. This is probably not helping. And maybe her queer brain is going into overdrive, but she does her best to shove it aside. Right now is all about helping Veronica and not about how nice she looks in the strappy top.

"He- I-" Veronica doesn't get much further than that before she starts to cry. Heather sighs and slowly pulls her into a hug. At first, she doesn't respond, and Heather's worried that she's scared her somehow, but then the fiercest grip she's ever felt tightens around her waist, and both their bodies shake with the intensity of Veronica's sobs. He. Who's he? Her dad, maybe? A random creepo? Ram Sweeney or Kurt Kelly? Maybe even-

No.

If Jason fucking Dean did this to her, somebody's getting murdered tonight.

"Where does it hurt, hun?" she asks, taking the steps of a daycare employee when a child falls off the swing. "Can you show me where?"

Veronica gingerly moves her hand to her nose and then up to her eye, both of which Heather carefully examines. "Oh, crap," she whispers. "That's broken. Are you okay if I leave you here for a teeny bit?" She looks nervous, but she nods, so Heather gives her a gentle kiss on the forehead and stands up. "Okay. I'll be right back, promise."

When she says she'll be right back, she means it. Heather sprints into the kitchen and grabs an ice pack, a glass of water, and the bottle of Tylenol she keeps in the pantry. Just as quickly, she zooms back into the living room and puts the ice on Veronica's nose. "You think you can hold it or do you want me to?"

Eyes blank, Veronica puts her hand on top of Heather's, who wiggles hers out gently so as not to disturb the nose. "Okay. You alright if I just hold you and you can talk to me when you're ready?"

"Yes please," Veronica whispers in a voice so hoarse and soft it's almost like no one said anything.

"Okay."

"I'm sorry. I didn't know where else to go."

At a loss for words, Heather eventually replies with a soft "Don't apologise." She lays back on the couch and gently coaxes Veronica to lie on top of her. They wait like that, Heather's hands lying loosely on Veronica's shoulders, until Veronica's breathing finally evens out and Heather shifts to look at her face. "Are you hurt too bad?"

Veronica shifts the ice pack off her nose and sighs, a tiny heartbreaking sound. "No, it's too cold to feel anything, it just scared me. He does scare me, and I know I'm gonna have to go back to him. Like, I love him a lot, but he's a little terrifying sometimes. He fired a gun at the TV once to annoy his dad." She holds out one of her hands to Heather and points to a few scars on the back of it that go up to her wrist. "Got simultaneously cut and burned while he yanked me away."

"Jesus," Heather murmurs, examining the scars. Would it be weird to kiss them? Is that a couple thing? Would she even see it as romantic? She turns her eyes back to Veronica's quickly darkening eye. That's gonna be one heck of a bruise. "What do you say we get you cleaned up and you tell me what happened?"

As they walk up the stairs, it's very clear to Heather that this is Jason's handiwork. It was clear the minute Veronica showed up on her doorstep, looking like Cinderella lost a battle with her pumpkin carriage or perhaps one of her horses. She just didn't want to believe it, but it's clear as day that Veronica's trapped.

Maybe she can help set her free.

"Here," Heather says, rifling through a drawer of old pajamas. She tosses Veronica a nightgown before surveying the blood and dirt on her face and clothes. "Do you wanna just take a shower and toss that top? I can give you one of mine."

"Sure," she says hesitantly. "Can you help?"

"Help-?"

"Get my shirt off," Veronica clarifies helplessly, and slowly straightens out her arms. She's being too careful for it to just be apprehension; maybe she did something to her shoulder. Heather dutifully tugs the tank top off over her head and throws it out the open window before gently unclasping Veronica's bra. Don't make this sexual. Do NOT make this sexual. Just two best friends, one of which has just been beaten up and has a broken nose, doing best friend things like undressing each other. Perfectly normal everyday activities for besties. Her crazed internal monologue would be almost funny if she wasn't freaking out. "Thank you," Veronica says softly, giving Heather a tiny hug before turning and heading into the bathroom to shower.

Heather is about as productive as possible in the next two minutes: finding Veronica a small pile of clothes to take home, putting the ice pack back in the freezer for future use, and setting out a towel and hairbrush for her. Then, with the water running as an accompaniment, she's left to stew in her rage towards Jason.

How dare he just hurt her like that? Break her nose and black her eye without even a second thought? A little piece of Veronica was left at Heather's door, and yet another shed along with her tears. How long has this been happening? Will it keep happening?

How much does Veronica have left until he shatters her completely?

Heather knows the story. She's seen the news, read the papers. She knows how this goes. Abused person gets stuck in their relationship, threatened if they try to leave, sometimes even hunted down if they do. Abuser takes pleasure in their pain and fear. And it gets worse and worse, with no way out for the abused, a constant cycle of terror and threats and harrassment.

She can't just stand by and let that happen to Veronica.

After a while, Veronica steps out of the shower, wrapped in a towel and holding out the hairbrush. "Heather?"

"Yeah, Vera?"

Veronica smiles a little and comes to sit cross-legged in front of Heather on the bed. Normally she'd yell at her for getting the covers wet, but they have a bigger problem to deal with here. Veronica sighs, visibly uncomfortable. "Can you brush my hair?"

"Oh, definitely." Heather takes the brush and gently starts brushing the tangles out of the bottom half of Veronica's rats' nest. "May I ask why you don't just do it?"

"It hurts to lift my arms," Veronica confesses. "He tossed me against a wall, I'm pretty sore."

"A wall? Like, house wall, or-"

"Brick wall," Veronica says quietly, picking at her cuticles. "He got mad because he wanted a kiss, and I didn't give him a kiss because, you know, like, he gets... aggressive with his kisses and there were children, and he was all give. me. a. kiss. and I was like what the hell Jason no and he threw me at the wall, hit me, and kissed me, and hit me again, and I feel bad for the children who were most definitely watching the scary tall dark man beat up his girlfriend."

"My God. Has he ever..?"

"No, he's never done anything like that before. It scared me a lot. I was in shock, really. It didn't even register that he'd made contact until I heard the crack and saw blood all over my shirt. But he gave me his coat and drove me home like a true gentleman, but he was all yelling and mad and I was scared so I told him I had a college lecture and he was like, yeah okay bye Ronnie be home by nine and- oh. Oh, crap, Heather, I need to go."

"Vera."

"It's almost ten, Heather, I need to go."

"Veronica Sawyer." Heather places a hand on Veronica's arm. "You are wrapped in a towel with half-brushed hair, hurt, and you look like a rag doll. At least get dressed and dry your hair off. I'll deal with Jason."

"You will?" Veronica asks, casting quick glances at the clock as it turns from 9:49 to 9:50.

"I will. Go get dressed, I have clothes for you on the hall table."

"Heather, you didn't need to-"

"Go." Heather waves Veronica away and picks up her phone, taking deep breaths in preparation to have a civil conversation with JD.

"Greetings and salutations," comes from the other end of the phone, which is set default to speaker, and Heather can practically hear the spike of terror that runs through Veronica's system.

"Christ Jesus," she whispers, turning the phone back to normal and putting it to her ear. "Hey, JD?"

"Hello, Heather," he replies coldly. "I don't suppose you happen to know where my girlfriend is, do you?"

Veronica's right. He sounds downright terrifying. "Uh, um, her car broke down on her way back from her lecture. She's at my house." Hearing this, Veronica turns around with wide eyes and makes a slicing motion across her throat.

"Oh, did it now?" JD asks. Sure, he sounds like he knows something. He could be putting on a front. Stay calm, Heather.

"Er... yeah." Better to stay consistent with the lie.

"Well, I happen to know that she walked. Try again next time." He hangs up with a stony click that pierces her brain.

Heather turns back to Veronica, who has put on the offered sweats and tank top. "These looked close enough to what I came here in. I can say I dropped by my mom's for fresh clothes, but then he'll ask why I didn't just get clothes at home. I could tell him that they weren't gonna let me into my lecture and all mine were in the wash, but then again, he knows I was never at the lecture."

"I'm so sorry."

"You didn't know. It's fine." Her voice and stance are strong, but Heather can see her legs and hands shaking. "He's coming for me, isn't he?"

"I would assume, since he knows you're here."

"Oh God," Veronica says quietly. "Do you think he's gonna hurt me again?"

She sounds so scared and so innocent, like a child. Heather walks up to Veronica and pulls her into a bear hug, her cheek resting on Veronica's head. Her queer brain comes poking back in again, ready to torture her again. Come on. We've been over this already. Just best friend activities. "I don't know, Vera," she replies carefully. Best not to make a promise she can't even come close to keeping. "But I'll do whatever I can to help you. And you know if you need a place to go, my door is always open."

"I know. Thank you."

"You'd do the same for me."

A few beats of silence pass before Veronica again begins to cry. "Hey, what's wrong?" Heather asks, rubbing her back. "Am I hurting you?" She eases up on her grip.

"No," Veronica replies. "I wish I'd kissed him."

"Aw, baby."

"He's gonna make me do more things, Heather. He knows he can scare me now. I don't even know if he'd hit me again, but I know he's gonna use the power he has over me. He's not gonna let me leave. I don't know if he'll even let me out of the house. Do you think-"

"What, babes?" Heather whispers. It breaks her heart to see Veronica going through this. It's not something anyone should be experiencing, but out of anybody, why her?

"Do you think he might hurt you too? If he knows I've been here?"

There's the Veronica that Heather knows and loves. The one who would put anyone else before herself even in the middle of having a breakdown in their arms.

"If he does, he's got another thing coming. It's alright. I can hold my own against him."

"Okay. I just worry..."

"I know you do. But trust me, you never have to worry about me." She's putting on a show of confidence and strength, but really, she's been worried about the same thing. If JD comes for her, Veronica will have no one. Heather Duke doesn't talk to them anymore and Heather McNamara's rightfully too busy with her new family. She'd have nowhere else to turn. No one to care about her.

"We're gonna get you through this, Vera."

"You promise?" She sounds so hopeful. Heather's inner mom is rioting. Don't make a promise you can't keep! But how can she not?

"I swear."

They're both startled by the ringing of the doorbell. "Oh, God," Veronica murmurs. She straightens up in front of the mirror and runs her fingers through her hair a few times.

"Want me to-?"

"No. I'll go. I don't trust him not to do anything to you. He doesn't take well to being lied to. I can handle him. You stay up here."

"Okay." Before she loses her nerve, Heather darts forward and gives Veronica a tiny kiss on the forehead. "Be safe."

"I'll try."

"Do more than try," Heather retorts, completely serious.

"Okay." Veronica looks more nervous than Heather feels. For a moment, she considers saying something witty or meaningful, like the end of a chapter in a book or something, but after a few seconds, Veronica turns tail and heads down the stairs.

"God damn it," Heather whispers, hearing Veronica open the door and start up awkward chatter with her boyfriend, words spilling over each other as she rushes to explain why she's here. "How do I get her out of this one?"

#chansaw #veronica sawyer #heather chandler #heathers the musical #veronica x chandler #veronica x heather chandler #veronica sawyer x heather chandler #heathers #angst fic #heathers fanfic #system scribbles #get what you deserve #gwyd

[damiano-mylove]

To Kiss is To Love

Pairing: Vic De Angelis x GN!reader

Wc: 1k

Cw(s): Negative self talk in the beginning, stretch marks, lil bit of self hatred, and an atrocious amount of swearing, tell me if it sucks

Summary: Reader is extremely self-conscious about their stretch marks, so Vic takes action

Masterlist

They were on parts of your body that you arguably hated the most. They gave unflattering detail to places that didn't need detail. Your inner thighs, your outer thighs, you stomach, your chest. There were even stupid fucking stretch marks on your back! Like a teenager who just hit a growth spurt! God, it was embarrassing, and it made you hate your body only that much more.

Now, here she was, the vision of your life, the girl you wanted to marry, tracing her fingers over those dark fucking marks that you detested so fully and truly.

You shouldn't have taken your shirt off, but it was just so fucking hot in this fucking flat, that you had virtually no other option. It was take your clothes off or sit in the freezer. It was a decision of embarrassment and taking your shirt off was the victor.

"Why do you keep doing that?" You finally asked on an advert break. Vic looked at you through furrowed eyebrows. Your eyes darted to her fingers on your stomach. "Tracing my stretch marks."

"I dunno, they're nice."

Her response had you scoffing. Nice? Fuck, she really must've wanted you to love her if she could say that about one of your biggest insecurities. You could barely believe that she said that out loud. Why would she say something she obviously didn't mean?

Well, Vic doesn't say things she doesn't mean.

"What do you mean 'eugh'?" Vic immediately asked, sitting up now. You shrugged.

"They're ugly as fuck, not nice," you rebutted. Vic's jaw clenched a bit and you could physically feel the room getting a bit warmer.

"So you're saying my stretch marks are ugly too?"

Aw fuck, you fumbled the bag with this one. You should've just shut up and taken the fucking compliment. Did you? No. Instead, you make Victoria feel like you don't like something about her. The one girl in the world who has shown you time and time again how much she loves you, how much she'd do for you, just how limitless her love spanned for you.

"No, no, yours aren't ugly," you quickly answered. Vic raised her eyebrow. "Mine are. Yours only add to your amazing good looks."

Vic stood up from the couch, and knelt in front of you. You couldn't possibly look away without making it seem like you weren't trying to be an asshole. "They're not ugly. All they mean is you either were big and got small, or you were small and got big. Nothing wrong with either of those, Y/n."

You couldn't help but smile. "Did you just quote Katt Williams to me to make me feel better?"

"Did it work?" Vic asked, eyes dancing with light. You nodded a bit, which had your girlfriend a smiling mess. Without warning, she stood up and took your hand, hoisting you from the couch.

Wordlessly, Vic guided you to the bathroom and sat you down on the edge of the peach coloured tub. Vic rummaged around in her cabinet of potions and serums, until she came out with a tall, clear bottle. Within the bottle, was some amount of orange-pink oil. The words Bio-Oil were written in big white font on the front of the bottle. Vic handed it to you to inspect.

"It reduces my stretch marks," she told you. You handed the bottle back to her. Vic grinned, "Do you want me to put some on you?"

Heat poisoned your blood, not not from the heat wave. This time, the heat was from embarrassment, from love, form the blood rushing to the tips of your ears like a kid in year 5 who has a crush.

"Y-yeah, actually. That sounds...nice." Suddenly, that word didn't feel like lead on your tongue. It felt as it normally should've. Vic smiled so graciously as she unscrewed the white cap of the bottle.

In front of you, once again, Vic knelt down. Before she poured any oil on her hand, she planted a soft and smooth kiss to one of your dozens of stretch marks. It made a certain amount of nerves explode in your stomach and even more heat rush to your face. Knowing what she was doing to you only egged Vic on further. She kissed another and another. Then on one, she licked it and blew cool air against it, making jitters and tingles erupt everywhere on your body.

Before any protests came from you, Vic began with spreading the oil against your skin, making you flinch at the temperature. It was a ridiculously cool substance, that smelt like a mix of cooking oil and lavender essential oil.

Vic left no mark untouched. They shone in the harsh bathroom light, slick with the nice smelling oil and with Vic's fingers splayed upon you. Your heart beat like its never beat before and you felt as if you'd just eaten a full meal. You were fucking wrong. You were so totally wrong about Vic, about your stretch marks.

"Okay, now don't wipe it off, but it'll be drying for a minute or ten," Vic laughed as she capped the bottle.

No time wasted, you stood up and pulled Vic in by the waist, with tears brimming your eyes. Your lips connected with hers like fireworks. She tasted of her strawberry lip balm and of the grapes you both had been snacking on earlier. Softer than pillows, her lips were. They moved like the perfect puzzle piece against yours, like this moment was made to be.

Around your shoulders, Vic wrapped her arms, only bringing you closer together. When the kiss was broken, it was some time before either of you said something. There you both stood, in the bathroom, that smelt of lavender, breathless, admiring each other.

"I'm lucky to have you, Victoria," you whispered. Vic laughed lightly, her eyes crinkling in such an attractive way that made heat bloom once a-fucking-gain. "I love you. I love you so much."

"I love you even more," she replied, pecking your lips lightly. Once again, she had your hand in hers. "C'mon, show's probably back on."

#måneskin #maneskin #vic de angelis #victoria de angelis x reader #victoria de angelis fanfiction #victoria de angelis #victoria maneskin #maneskin fanfiction #x reader #one shot #oneshot

[julemmaes]

Payback

Rowaelin Month, Day Five

A/N: Yall I'm dying. I didn't even wanna write today and I kinda forced myself to and I'm not proud of myself for this but I just wanted you to have something so yep. Tomorrow's will be a lot angstier and sadder than this one, so soak up the very light fluff I'm giving you till you can

Signing off, goodnight yall

Word count: 3,614

Aelin hated the underground car park reserved for the residents of her building. It was dark, so narrow that you had to do at least a hundred swerves to avoid taking any corner and scratching off half your car, and it was impossible to find a spot when everyone came home in the evening after hours and hours in the office and parked as they saw fit while still thinking about the thousands of pieces of paperwork that would be waiting for them at their desks only nine hours later, sometimes taking up more than two spots at once.

The only reason she still tried to park down there was that there was a flock of pigeons in the trees just outside their block of flats, on the main road, which had made a nasty habit of shitting on anything - or anyone, on some unpleasant occasion - that stopped for more than five minutes under the thick branches. A perfect hiding place for birds, that no one had thought to warn her about when she had moved in only a few months earlier.

She had deemed herself lucky the night before, when she had returned before anyone else and found the lot completely empty. She'd been so happy that she'd driven around a bit down there just for the hell of it. She'd pulled up next to the exit, thinking it would be easier to get out the next morning.

She hadn't anticipated the three assholes who had parked so as to block her path in every conceivable way.

She grunted, banging her fist against the steering wheel when she realised she still wasn't clear, and put the car into reverse for the twelfth time, before changing gear and driving three inches forward. And so on, and on, and on, until she managed to steer the face of the car towards the exit and let out a satisfied howl.

She started up the slope towards the road, taking her eyes off the driveway and distracting herself for a moment to choose which radio to listen to, when the car hit something and the dull sound of the bang echoed throughout her body, propelling her forward.

Aelin squealed, hitting the brakes hard enough to cause a high-pitched squeal, and soon the smell of burnt plastic filled her nostrils.

The car shut off and she pulled the handbrake vehemently, getting out of the car and trying to figure out which wall she had hit, already cursing every deity that had ever existed. She didn't have enough money to afford a repair, and she knew perfectly well that the dent would be there for months before she let any of her friends help her.

She wrinkled her brow, noticing how no side of the car was touching walls or columns.

"What the..."

And then she heard it, a grunt of pain.

She opened her eyes wide, running around the car and finding a man on the ground.

To the view of a head full of stark white hair, the fear she’d just ran over one of the oldies that lived on her floor stuck her. But then the person got up on their elbows and she let go of a sigh of relief.

But still, she had just runapartment someone over. She hurried his way.

"Oh, fuck." said Aelin, approaching the stranger. The man pulled himself up to sit, bringing a hand to his face, on his cheek, where a cut was bleeding profusely on his shirt.

"Holy shit." muttered the guy, looking up at her, "That hurt."

Aelin was frozen in time, her hands to her gaping mouth, looking for the right words.

When he tried to stand, swaying a little, she pushed through the fog in her mind and truly looked at him, searching other injuries, but not failing to notice his sheer handsomeness.

The man looked like he’d been made in heaven.

She shook her head, mentally reprimanding herself – now was not the time – and started talking.

“I’m so so so sorry. I didn’t see you there and- oh god, you’re bleeding. You need me to rush you to the hospital? Fuck, you think you broke something?” the words just kept flowing and flowing. “Where were you even going? Why didn’t you just got out of the main entrance? This fucking parking lot. I swear we have to call the landlord and have him put some lights down here. Your shirt,” she grimaced, eyeing the blood standing out on the white fabric. Aelin looked him in the eye, “I have a very similar one upstairs? You want me to go fetch it for you, I could-”

“Jesus Christ!” he yelled, putting his hands in between them, forcing her to step back, “Shut the fuck up!”

Aelin’s mouth closed shut and her eyebrows raised so high she felt her skin pull on her temples. She crossed her arms over her chest. Her eyes popping out.

This man. Sure, she’d just ran him over, but no one had ever talked to her like that.

“I’m fine.” he grumbled, “And I live in this building, I’ll go take my own shirt, thank you.” He took a deep breath, brushing off his trousers and bending to gather his stuff that had scattered around during his fall. When he lifted his head again, he gave her a tight smile and his piercing green eyes stared at her with an intensity that had Aelin’s toes curling in her shoes.

“Have a nice day.”

He then proceeded to walk away, leaving Aelin alone in the darkish driveway.

She looked around, hoping to see someone who could confirm that it had just been a figment of her imagination, but there was no one.

Getting back in her car, Aelin started the engine and drove up to the street, chewing on her lips, “What the fuck just happened?”

***

Aelin had thought all day about the mysterious man. She hadn’t been able to focus during her meetings and hadn’t even finished one of her projects. Something that she sure as fuck knew her boss would make her notice and work her ass off to make up for once word got to him.

Her day had started off so bad she knew it couldn’t get any worse, but she’d been wrong.

Her assistant had spilled coffee over her only finished drawing and herself. One of her coworkers had decided today was the perfect day to quit her job and pile her projects on Aelin’s desk. Then she’d gone out for lunch with some of her friends and it had started raining so heavily she’d been forced to stay in the office, only eye-eating the mouth-watering dishes her friends had posted on their instagram stories. They’d made it to the diner just before the sky cracked open.

And, the cherry on top, someone had keyed her car.

She’d been on the verge of tears when she’d spotted the red stains of her neighbor’s blood on the parking lot floor when she got back home, but she didn’t let any fall.

She had a date.

And she wouldn’t let all these little things get to her and ruin what could possibly be the best night of her life.

One of her life-long best friends had set her up on a blind date with one of her boyfriend’s best friends. She’d promised the man was the perfect match, someone Elide thought would keep her on her toes and match her overflowing personality.

Aelin had been hesitant at first when Elide hadn’t wanted to give her a name, or show her a picture, claiming she’d go all FBI style on him and ruin their first meeting, but she’d also promised Aelin she’d met the guy a few times and he’d been nothing but a gentleman.

And she had heard so much of him she felt like she’d known him her whole life.

Some of the things Elide had told her, she’d liked better if she’d found directly from him, but Aelin was a picky woman and she wasn’t risking another date with a creeper.

She pulled up in the restaurant’s parking lot where Elide had reserved the four of them a table and turned off her car, clutching the wheel. She took a deep breath. And another.

She was still a little worked up and all the pent-up emotions of the day were threatening to spill over the surface any minute, but she could make it past dinner and then have her little monthly breakdown in the peace and quiet of her apartment.

She fixed her lipstick, tightened up her ponytail and let two strands of hair cascade on the side of her face. She blew herself a kiss in the mirror, “You can do it.” she whispered as a short pet talk.

She got off the car, pulled out her phone to check if Elide was already inside and she was so focused on the screen she failed to notice someone backing up right in front of her until it was too late.

The car only bumped into her hip, but it was enough to make her lose her balance.

Aelin merely had time to register what was happening that she found herself lying in a puddle of rain and mud. She closed her eyes at the dull pain on the back of her head, but she knew for a fact the hit hadn’t been that bad.

She lifted her arms up, looking down at the wet spots on her dress, darkening by the second. Her seventy euros purse soaking up the water all around her.

The tension behind her eyes just increased when she heard the driver’s door open and someone step out of the car. She couldn’t have stopped the sobs even if she wanted to.

“Miss? Oh god, I’m so sorry. Are you alright?”

Strong arms circled her waist and pulled her up in a standing position. She brought her hands to her face, her body now racked by her crying as she tried to get a handle of herself.

“Miss?” the voice called again, now nearer. “Are you hurt? I didn’t-” the man talking stopped suddenly and Aelin looked up, not seeing anything through the tears. “You.”

And then it hit her.

That voice.

She knew that voice.

She ran her hand over her face, rubbing her eyes and staring right back at the man she had ran over that same morning.

Her mouth fell open.

He was looking at her with an amused expression and Aelin couldn’t find the words once again.

What was it with this man and his ability to take her ability to talk by just showing up?

He had a transparent band-aid on his cheek, his cut far less severe than she had thought, and his eyes were glistening with mirth. He was wearing a simple black pair of jeans and a dark green t-shirt, but he was even more handsome than in his work clothes.

Aelin was taking rushed, trembling breaths, and she was about to kill this man with her bare hands. Shred his skin off his bones and have him beg-

“I guess we’re even now, uh?”

His attempt of a joke flew over her head and she charged at him, a scream lodged in her throat.

His eyes widened and he took a step back when she flung her arm at him, trying to hit him. His hands closed around her wrists, blocking her from causing him more harm that she’d already done.

“You asshole!” she was screaming at the top of her lungs. “You ruined my dress!”

Aelin lifted a leg, more than convinced to kneel his balls, but he managed to block her blow again, infuriating her even more.

“I was about to meet the love of my life and ruined my fucking dress!”

He tried to push her away from him, still squeezing her wrists, and his brow furrowed.

“He’s everything I’ve ever dreamed of. He’s a pediatrician! He loves children! And he has a cute fucking dog my friend said I would love and cuddle the shit out of! Her name is Fleetfoot and she’s a golden retriever and Elide knows I fucking love goldens. And he’s from Orynth, just. Like. Me!” she got louder and louder with every word she spit out. “And he’s tall, and handsome and he’s the perfect match! And I deserved this one night!”

The man was now looking at her with a dumbfounded expression, his hold slightly loosening.

“I’m so done with this dating thing and I’d finally found him and you!” she shoved a finger in his chest, making him retreat a few steps. “You wanted your payback so bad you ran me over with your car!

“And now he’s gonna take one look at me and think I’m a fucking psycho! I bet my hair are the most disgusting thing he’s ever seen and my make up. Oh fuck, I must look like a panda.” Aelin started crying harder, laying her hands flat on the man’s torso, pushing her head to his chest. “I look like a fucking panda.”

She tried to speak again but her mind just couldn’t form any coherent thought, until she felt the man’s arms closing around her shoulders. He stepped closer, running his hand up and down her back, whispering something she couldn’t really hear over her crying.

Aelin didn’t know how much time she spent in the stranger’s embrace, but when the gravity of the scene she’d just made in front of him downed on her, she felt her body flare up in embarrassment.

That was her life now?

Having mental breakdowns in a dark parking lot after someone she’d ran over with her car had returned the gesture and then making them console her?

She detached herself from the man and for a second she thought she’d felt him hesitate before he took a step back. And another, leaving her standing her in her soaking wet dress and her puffy, surely-red eyes. He bent down, picking up her purse and handing it to her.

She lowered her gaze, not even daring looking at his shoes and closed her eyes.

“I’m sorry.”

The man made a sound of surprise, “Why would you be sorry?”

Aelin wished she could die on the spot. Evaporate out of existence.

“For hitting you. Or at least trying. And crying all over you.” she said and then grimaced. She ran a hand over her face. “I just had a very hard day and I wasn’t even sure I wanted to come, but this guy seriously seems like he could be the missing piece to whatever the fuck my puzzle-life is. I didn’t want to take a raincheck and have him thinking I’m not serious about this.”

A beat of silence, “I’m sure he would have understood.”

She shook her head, keeping on talking as if he hadn’t even been there, “And now I can’t go in like this.” she passed her hands on her dress, the tears building up again in her eyes. “Plus, Elide didn’t tell me what he looks like, cause she thinks he’s a real snack and wanted to see my face when I saw him for the first time.” she was bordering on pouting, “That means he’s gotta be smoking hot or I’ll be so pissed at her.”

The man snorted loudly, “A snack.” he hummed, “Maybe I should meet your friend and thank her.”

Aelin’s head snapped up, “Oh no, she’s taken.” she shook her head vehemently, “Like so freaking taken. I swear she and her boyfriend have been together for a whole of three months and they already act like a married couple.”

He nodded, a lopsided smile on his face, “I know the kind.”

She’d been so absorbed by her talking that she hadn’t noticed she’d stopped crying.

She breathed through her nose and clasped her hands together, before reaching one out towards him, “I think introductions are needed. I’m Aelin.” she offered a tentative smile.

His hand engulfed hers, shaking it with impressive gentleness. His smile grew even larger if possible and Aelin was starting to think she was about to het murdered.

But then he said his name and the world ceased existing around them.

Their hands still moving up and down between them.

She tilted her head forward, “I’m sorry, could you repeat that?”

He licked his lower lip, “I’m Rowan.”

Aelin closed her eyes, holding her breath.

She squeezed his hand before releasing it. She took a step back, wishing for the ground beneath her feet to crack open and just eat her whole.

“I’m gonna go kill myself now, if you’ll excuse me.”

His laugh reached her ears with painful speed.

Rowan.

She couldn’t believe it.

Well, she could. The man laughing his heart out at her expense was probably the most handsome person she’d ever seen in her entire life.

At least Elide hadn’t lied about that.

“A tad dramatic, if you ask me,” he said as his laugh died down. He pointed at the restaurant behind him, “You want me to go fetch the married couple so we can go back at the appartment and you can change? I’m not against you walking in there with this outfit at all,” he gave a pointed look, matched by a shit-eating grin that seemed to be etched in his lips, “I’m not gonna think you’re a psycho, not for this at least, and I’m ready to fight everyone who looks at you the wrong way. But you look like you could use the comfort of a warm house.”

Aelin looked up at him with a questioning look, trying to understand if this man she’d just tried to maul was seriously offering her options, letting her choose after everything that had gone down so far between the two of them. As if still giving her a chance.

Rowan arched a brow, looking around and glancing back at her, “Aelin?”

Oh, fuck.

She had been oh so not ready o hear her name from his lips.

She nodded and he smiled, leaning down a bit.

She could smell his cologne from here.

“Yes to what? Me calling Lorcan and Elide or getting inside even if you dripping wet?”

Holy fucking shit, this man shouldn’t have been allowed to say the words dripping wet.

She stilled herself.

What the hell was she thinking? She brought her hands to her face, “Please call them and let’s head home. I’m so fucking tired.” a yawn broke her sentence, as to prove her words, “And I’m freezing in this skimpy dress.”

Rowan rushed to her side, “Oh, god, sorry for not offering sooner, here,” he opened the trunk of his car and pulled out a huge blue sweater. Without even waiting for an answer he snatched her purse from her hands and shoved her head in his sweater.

Aelin felt better right away and gave him a big smile.

Rowan answered with one of his own and of course he had to be this perfect and more.

“I’m sorry for ruining your dress, I’ll make sure they wash it carefully when I take it to the laundry. If you’d let me.”

She nodded faintly, exhaling the panty-dropping smell of his sweater.

“And I’m hoping to see you wear it again once we finally get to go on a proper date.” he smirked, “I bet you looked amazing before I went and ran you over.”

Aelin chuckled, shaking her head, “You truly are a gentleman. Elide wasn’t exaggerating.”

Rowan’s demeanor changed completely and Aelin feared she’d said something wrong, but he averted his gaze as if he was embarassed.

“I’m sorry for this morning,” he said. Aelin almost tripped on her feet. He was sorry? “I shouldn’t have talked to you like that but I was just coming back from the hospital and Elide was right saying I work with kids, but I’m not a pediatrician, I’m a pediatric surgeon.”

His gaze grew dark as he looked over her shoulder, avoiding meeting her eyes at all costs.

“Yesterday night we lost a eight years old and I wasn’t really there when you hit me with your car. I didn’t mean to yell at you like I did, it was just-”

Rowan couldn’t finish his sentence that Aelin lunged for him, hugging him as tight as he’d held her a few minutes before, hoping she could relieve some of the pain that was surely clutching his heart. She felt him sag in her arms and hold her in turn.

She was glad she could offer some kind of support.

“It must be hard.” she whispered against his chest.

Rowan nodded, hitting her head with his chin, “It is, but it’s part of the job. The only way you can live with something like that in your baggage is knowing you did everything you could to save them.”

Aelin could feel the emotion lacing his every word and tightened her arms for a moment before freeing him of her embrace. He silently thanked her and told her he’d be right back with their friends.

The second he was gone she realized she couldn’t wait for when he’d be back and they could keep talking.

She’d never felt this way before. Not this fast at least.

Sure, she had loved all her exes, but this. This was different.

There was something there, a connection.

And while he walked back to her, Lorcan and Elide in tow, a bright smile on his handsome face, she couldn’t help but think she was ready to find out all about it.

tog tag list (if you wanna be added or removed just dm me or send me an ask)

@maastrash @ireallyshouldsleeprn @sleeping-and-books @hellasblessed @thegoddessofyou @ghostlyrose2 @claralady @sayosdreams @perseusannabeth @letstakethedawn @terrible-and-proud @post-it-notes33 @booksstorm @nalgenewhore @queen-of-demons-and-hell @lanyjoy-13 @vasudharaghavan @cupcakey00 @bri-loves-sunflowers @queen-of-glass @thewayshedreamed @the-regal-warrior @fangirlprincess09 @januarystears @rowaelinismyotp @starbornsinger @bookstantrash @thegreyj @feysand-loml @autumnbabylon @a-court-of-milkandhoney @highqueenofelfhame @story-scribbler @mariamuses

#rowaelinmonth #rowaelin #rowan whitethorn #aelin galathynius #rowaelin month day five #tog #throne of glass #rowaelin fic

[beverlyonvinyl]

wasteland, baby! - JJ Maybank

summary; after a jealousy-fueled fight with your Kook ex-boyfriend, Rafe Cameron, the hot-tempered JJ has a long awaited meeting with you on the dock.

warnings; swearing, underage alcohol/drug consumption, plenty of angst, fluff.

word count; 1.5k

song; wasteland, baby! by hoizer

[ gif via pinterest ]

wasteland, baby / i’m in love / i’m in love with you.

The Boneyard was crowded with all walks of life tonight. Slimy Tourons looking for a girl to hook up with before they left town, rich Kooks getting drunk off of just a few beers, and the almighty rulers of the Outer Banks, the Pogues. Party animals by nature and fighters by chance, whether a nosy Kook got in their business or a Touron took something too far, a Pogue was always up to throw punches.

One of the Pogues stuck out, a particular blond-haired boy that was consistently sporting some kind of gnarly bruise or cut. The infamous JJ Maybank was always getting into of trouble, typically for a good cause. He's a ticking time bomb, and he can't keep his hands to himself.

The sandy-haired troublemaker was currently surrounded by a small arena of people, unbeknown to his circle of close friends that were sipping on bitter alcohol on the opposite side of the moonlit beach.

"JJ has been gone for like, twenty minutes," a girl with caramel skin and the most annoyed expression on her face pointed out to her other friends. "He probably found a girl."

The boy across from her looked behind him, he was a bit more sober than his reckless buddies.

"Kie... are they screaming his name?" He asked, still gawking at the large swarm of people behind him.

Another girl chimed into the conversation. "I bet someone is—"

"Is he in a fight?" Kie set her solo cup down on the ground and stood up. "What is his deal?"

The ringleader of the Pogues, and the boy who had thrown this party in the first place, came striding over to his other three friends with a freshly filled cup in his hand.

"John B.," the other boy stuttered. "JJ is beating the shit out of someone..."

His drunk and tired features expressed enough that he was done dealing with JJ's outbursts. Honest to god, everyone was tired of it. Picking him up from police stations, icing his bruises, making sure he didn't break something, he was acting out more than he ever had previously.

"Go deal with it," John B. gestured to the girl that wasn't Kie. "He'll listen to you."

Y/N raised her eyebrows at her best friend, contemplating if what he was saying was the truth, or just bullshit to get out of meddling with JJ's antics.

"I'm not getting between him and whoever he's kicking in the ass," she took down a gulp of her beer. "He's dangerous when he's angry."

"You make him less angry," John B. countered. "Now go fix it and I'll get the rest of these assholes off our beach."

Y/N headed for the crowd of onlookers, kicking up the sand with her worn, green Vans. She could hear another voice barking back at JJ, and unfortunately she recognized it.

She pushed her way through some brainless Tourons in cheap shark tooth necklaces, shoving them to the side and ordering them to scram. This was between her, JJ, and the guy that had got beaten to a pulp.

"Fucking Rafe," she sneered, watching JJ throw another punch to her ex-boyfriend's bloody face. "What did you do this time?"

JJ turned his head, his cerulean eyes piercing into hers. Rafe took this precious moment to breathe, for JJ's very violent assault had offered him little time for that.

"Everyone out!" Y/N yelled at the last few nosy people that surrounded them. She watched Rafe catch his last breath before he took another blow to his jaw. "Stop it, J."

"What?" He pushed Rafe's limp body to the side and looked at the frustrated girl standing above him.

She disregarded JJ's questioning look and crouched down next to her quivering, former lover. He was still very much alive, lord be damned if Rafe Cameron ever lose his life to a weed-smoking, beer-slugging, couch-surfing Pogue like JJ, but he had stil been pummeled horribly.

"Tell me what you did to make him hurt you," she muttered in Rafe's ear.

Rafe chuckled at her. Once his beaming girlfriend that thrived in country clubs and sundresses, she traded her perfect Kook life for a life full of treasure hunting and disappointing her parents.

If only he hadn't started with the cocaine.

"Just told Kelce some stories of how good you were in bed," he smirked at her with dark eyes.

JJ came stomping back towards them, open lighter in his tight grip. "You're fucking disgusting..."

Y/N narrowed her eyes at him. "Wait for me on the dock."

He let out a huff of aggression, not feeling free of the anger he had towards Rafe. His heavy boots hit the frail wooden planks of the Chateau's dock, and he couldn't help but let his thoughts drift to maybe, just maybe, Y/N wanted her dickhead of an ex-boyfriend back. Maybe they were out in the Boneyard reminiscing of old times when they would go to the country club and sneak kisses when their parents weren't watching. Maybe she wanted to help Rafe get clean so they could be together again.

JJ looked out at the calm water, such a contrast to the storm he was feeling in his chest. When he felt that strike of hurt, that pain and fury within him, he took it out on the nearest thing that crossed him.

"I'm sorry about that," a small voice hummed from behind him.

He turned around to see Y/N's figure framed by the blue moonlight.

"I should be the one that's sorry," he mumbled.

She sat beside him on the splintering dock. "J, I would've cut his face up with a beer bottle if I heard what he said."

He laughed at her a little. "So what'd you say to him?"

"That I'd cut off his dick if he talked about me like that again."

JJ looked at her in pure admiration. He knew when he first met her that she was locked up in the gates of the Kook lifestyle. Rafe always made him jealous, whether he spotted them holding hands while he was busing tables or sharing a drink while he was at a party with his friends. It dampened his mood and he wasn't afraid to show it... until she became a Pogue herself.

It would be an instant crime to make a move now. Pogues don't mess with other Pogues.

"I've always liked you, Y/N," he observed the way her eyes sparkled, even though it was dark.

She backed away from him every so slightly.

"No! Wait— not like that," he put his paw-like hand on her shoulder, cold rings creating a vibrant contrast against her hot skin. "As friends."

"Oh," she glanced down at the water. Endless nothingness.

There was a string of tension between the two rebellious teens that just couldn't be cut. Every time he saw her it made him dizzy, and getting drunk or high in her presence seemed to be a risk. If he let out even a whisper of how he felt, she'd hear him.

Y/N took his chin in her delicate hand, bringing his face towards hers in a moment they had both long awaited. His golden strands of hair fell in his entranced face. The ice had melted from his doe-eyes and the curve was back in his lips, formulating the smile that she chased after.

"I've always liked you too, JJ," she ghosted her lips over his. "Not as a friend."

He tried to stutter something out, tripping over his own tongue, but he was cut off by her plush lips on his own. The pungent liquor that she had been downing in the wake of her boredom met the smokiness that laced his breath. His warm hands found her waist, wrapping her in an embrace that he didn't want her to get out of. Maybe he would wake up in a cold sweat on John B.'s couch, this whole ordeal just a result of attempted manifestation, but he just wanted to indulge in her soft skin and sweet nothings. Even if they were a figment of his imagination.

"You're so beautiful," he murmured against her mouth. "Closer."

She whined at JJ's words, propping herself in his lap and kissing him harder. He had been waiting so long for this to happen, and now that he was getting it, he couldn't believe it was real. It was better than he had imagined it late at night when his heart and body ached for her. This was a new kind of euphoria.

If the world was ending, he would have no idea.

“Why didn’t we do this ages ago?” Y/N breathed against him as she left little pecks along his jaw.

JJ melted like a burning candle into her touch, praying that the flame in her that had ignited for him would forever stay lit.

“The Pogue rules,” he answered.

She cupped the side of his flushed face with her hand. She had never seen him so malleable for as long as she’d known him.

“I’d break all the rules for you,” she hummed. “I’m in love with you, that’s it.”

#jj maybank #jj maybank x reader #outer banks #jj maybank one shot #jj maybank imagine #jj fluff #outer banks pogues #john b routledge #kiara outer banks #jj maybank smut #jj x reader #obx imagine #obx cast #obx fluff #jj angst #outerbanks #rafe cameron #jj x y/n #pope heyward #netflix #the pogues #the kooks #rudy pankow #rudy pankow x reader

[reaction2whatever]

Agents of SHIELD S3E18-S3E20 reaction

Agents of SHIELD S3E18

-Well at least when Daisy destroys the base she didn't kill anyone

-what if Daisy's vision of somebody dying is that she actually killed somebody on the team under mind control. That's a dark thought I don't think she'd ever recover if this was the case

-oh I'm so done with this. Can they please just get rid of Ward

-I am so sick of seeing Daisy's pretty little adorable face in the same shot with freaking Ward's face

-ugghh I cannot express how frustrated I am with this.

-So done with this show rn. Just. Don't come at me like this.

-AND I wondered why people say season 3 will kick me in the teeth

-welp now the said teeth are very much feeling the kick

-Seeing FitzSimmons awkwardly talking about sex briefly lifted my mood lol they are still cute af

-I hate seeing Daisy with Ward so much. fucking hell. just stop. seeing Daisy put her head on Ward's shoulder physically hurt me and cringed me

-Leave my girl alone already

-Lincoln calling Daisy Coulson and May a small messed up family lol this show really is NOT subtle in implying who is Daisy's father and mother figure

-Oh Simmons is gorgeous. Her usual makeup in this show is undermining how beautiful she is

-Why is Daisy still so hot when she's in evil mode

-The way her power can make the ground split open aww man she's so powerful

-But yeah definitely need to save her before she does something too far gone

-"She's the closest thing I have to a daughter"

-really just not subtle at all. I like Coulson and Daisy's connection though so I think that's pretty moving.

-Are FitzSimmons gonna have sex soon... because it feels like it

-I won't be against it. It'd be pretty cute

-ewwwww that needle into the eye scene is sooooo gross ewww

-sooner or later this show's gonna need to pay for my therapy

-Daisy. Don't do anything stupid.

-poor FitzSimmons omg

-Fitz and Daisy's actors can both ACT in this choking scene but I swear if Daisy ended up killing Fitz she'll never recover

-Even if Daisy didn't actually choke Fitz to death she'll have a hard time dealing with this when she's free of mind control

-oh no alien warm Ward has Will's memories. This must be so traumatizing for Simmons. her dead ex-bf wearing the skin of Grant Ward having a creepy conversation with her? So glad Simmons shot him lol

-At least FitzSimmons made it out alive and Simmons looks gorgeous in this episode

-But uggh it's been a whole episode and Daisy is still with alien octopus warm ugghhhh like come on now...

-I swear to god they better not drag saving Daisy to the finale

-Just how cute is this sex scene between FitzSimmons tho. It's about time

-Kids really all grew up huh

-I want to punch Ward's face so bad

Agents of SHIELD S3E19

-four more episodes to go and this zombie Ward finally got a name

-Hive makes me think of arrowverse lol

-I used to love watching scenes with Daisy in it but now Hive-Ward is standing right by her and he sucked all of the fun out of watching Daisy uggghh

-Also why is this show grossing me out every episode now. That scene of a person melting is just ewww ewww ewww so gross

-Did Simmons just call Fitz her boyfriend. That's so cute

-Lincoln just risked his life to save Daisy awww

-ugghhh Daisy needs to snap out of this or she's gonna get herself killed

-In theory, Kree made the Inhumans so they should be a lot stronger?

-What did I just witness...Daisy just killed a Kree so easily???

-is she really this powerful?

-welp Daisy's fully looking like she's losing it...and I'm pretty sure if she's not under mind control she won't mean these things that she's saying

-Seeing Daisy beat up Mack is so painful I need help

-Welp seems like Hive can't be killed

-Did May just shoot Daisy????

-Uggh another episode and they still haven't saved Daisy and now I'm so frustrated

-This show is very good at making me feel all sorts of negative feelings ugghhh it is looking more and more likely that they'll drag this saving Daisy thing to the finale and ugghhh I hate this

-and ughhh fucking hell Daisy did not just offer herself up as a sacrifice to be drained

-Imma die of frustration and agents of shield better be paying my therapy bills

-When can Ward finally die I just can't deal with this any longer

Agents of SHIELD S3E20

-Daisy darling I know you are under mind control but still. You are gonna get yourself killed

-They really be draining Daisy of her blood when she just got shot

-she looks like she's in real bad shape

-Can't they just let shield save her already there're only three episodes left in this season ugghh I'm so frustrated

-What's sokovia accords and this avenger reference they keep on making

-feels like I need to watch a lot of movies for this show

-yeahhhh Daisy sounds pretty brainwashed rn

-yoyo and Mack make quite a cute couple

-Just when I thought watchdogs are gross they turn into these primitive-looking ugly people ugghhh

-The way Daisy just manipulated Lincoln into escaping shield base ugghh

-eww warm-Ward calling these primitive ugly people his baby with Daisy is on another level of grosss omfg

-AT LAST shield and Lincoln has some brain ugghh

-But I don't see how sending over Lash can accomplish anything?

-ohhhh so Lash can resist mind control

-Daisy is on the verge of bleeding out and she can barely walk and still she's gonna go out to fight Lash??

-welp she's gonna get herself killed

-oh waiiiitttt a minute

-Gotta admit I did not see this coming

-FINALLY they save my girl omfg took this bloody show long enough

-So Lash's purpose is to save Daisy from mind control??

-"This is agent Daisy Johnson I'm coming home"

-Somebody gives her some blood transfusion and don't let her walk on her own omfg she looks like a ghost

-istg this show be playing my emotions and it better not be Mack who dies in Daisy's vision

#agents of shield #agents of s.h.i.e.l.d.

[staticscreenwriting]

Love like the movies // Bucky Barnes // 5

Five - Dirty Dancing

Masterlist

Summary: This is a story of boy meets girl. The boy, Bucky Barnes, finds himself thrown into a world that seems so different from everything he’s ever known. The girl, (Y/N) knows entirely too much about rom-coms and is quite particular about the way she eats her popcorn. Bucky meets (Y/N) a few months after returning to NYC. He knows almost immediately that becoming her friend is inevitable. This is a story of boy meets girl. This is a story about love. (Bucky Barnes x female!Reader // a few spoilers for TFATWS)

Bucky wakes up to music. It's playing from outside the room, echoing through the halls and filling the apartment with sound.

It reminds him of when he was a kid and his mom would make them all breakfast as the radio would softly play in the background. She'd always have a smile on her face and twirl around the kitchen and sometimes, when they were still little enough, she'd pick up him or one of his sisters and slowly sway along with them in her arms.

It's a hazy memory, he's barely able to grasp it, but it's there nonetheless and that makes all the difference.

Rays of sun flood the apartment, coloring it in hues of orange and gold. Bucky steps out of (Y/N)’s room and into the hallway from which he can see straight into the kitchen. (Y/N)’s standing by the stove, a frilly pink apron wrapped around her waist and spatula in hand. Her hips shake slightly to the beat of the song and her lips move along with the lyrics.

Bucky wonders if he’ll ever get that. This feeling of pure comfort in his own home. To find who he really is and allow himself to be that person, no inhibitions, no holding back. Just be himself and be confident in who that might be.

“ You can keep standing there like a creep or you can come over here and help me, grumpy”

At the sound of her voice, he jumps a little, too lost in could-bes and what-ifs to realize she’s long noticed him leaning against the doorway. Her hair is a mess and there’s still eyeliner and glitter from last night stuck to her skin. But Bucky thinks she’s never looked better. It’s an intimate moment, to watch her in all her imperfect ways, move around her own home, being the most comfortable and at ease she’s ever been. There’s something about the way she looks at him then, showered in golden sunlight, a bright smile on her face. Bucky knows what it is he feels, deep down inside of him, flickering up like a light in the dark. He knows what it is. It’s not a feeling you forget once you’ve felt it.

He’s not gonna say it though, not gonna admit it to himself or anyone. All that can come from it is misery and heartbreak and while his heart is of very little value to him, hers means everything. So he’ll ignore it, shove it to the deepest darkest corner of himself and try not to acknowledge it in hopes it’ll go away.

“ You’re cooking? “ he asks as he steps up next to her, eyebrows raised in uncertainty.

“I’m making pancakes, and don’t look at me like that!” (Y/N) replies, swatting him with a dish towel, “ I know my cookies weren’t the best and I am well aware that my coffee sucks. But if there’s one thing I can make, it’s pancakes. Trust me. “

He does trust her. It’s something that he only fully realizes at that moment. Such an insignificant little moment. He trusts her, which is terrifying but also liberating at the same time. Maybe his life is on the right path. Maybe things can get better. Step by tiny step.

“ Hey, I ate your cookies, didn’t I? “

She looks up at him, a small smile playing on her lips, eyes shining with — something he can’t quite place. Maybe, he thinks, maybe he doesn’t need to know what it means. It means something and that's all that counts in the grand scheme of things.

“Yeah, yeah you did.”

For a moment it’s just them and the music and the bliss of a morning spent with a friend.

“ Okay, hand me the batter please?” (Y/N) says and points towards a big blue bowl standing by on the counter to his right. As he hands it to her though, (Y/N) doesn’t immediately start pouring the batter, instead, she dips her finger into it and holds it out to Bucky.

“ Try it, tell me if it’s too sweet. “

He’s hesitant for a moment. You don’t just go around licking your friends’ fingers. Surely social cues haven’t changed that much. But when she moves her hand closer once again and adds a determined “taste it before it drips onto the floor”, he wraps his lips around her finger, tasting the sweet pancake batter. It’s not too sweet, not at all, it’s perfect. He can’t really voice that thought though, not when his mind is somewhere else entirely. Somewhere it really shouldn’t be.

At that moment Bucky feels something he hasn’t felt in forever — arousal.

“ Good? “ she questions him as she pours the batter into the pan, a sizzling sound filling the kitchen.

Buck nods, completely at a loss for words. This is entirely silly and inappropriate. You’re not supposed to feel those things for your friends. Wasn’t this exactly what they talked about in the Harry and Sally movie? Sex ruining friendships. He can’t and won’t let that happen. Not with (Y/N). Not when he’s just starting to trust her. He needs this friendship more than he cares to admit.

“Grumpy? “

“ Hmm? Oh uh — yeah it’s good. “

And it is good, too good to give up. Too good to jeopardize it for some fleeting sense of passion. Too good to ever let go.

It’s ridiculous of him to put any sensual notions to such a silly little gesture. These things can be friendly. Innocent. People probably do it all the time with no ulterior motives. Maybe he needs to go with the times, let go of antiquated morals. Yeah, surely that’s what he’s gotta do.

They’re sitting by the kitchen counter, (Y/N)’s plate licked clean while Bucky is struggling to finish his pile of pancakes.

“ Do you want the rest of mine? “

“ Did you not like them? “

“ No, I did! I ate an entire pile already. But I can see the way you’re lusting after them. Come on. Open up. “

He cuts off a piece, lathers it in the syrup pooling on his plate, and holds it out towards her. Nothing sexual about it, just two friends sharing food. Absolutely nothing sensual about the way her lips wrap around the fork, they’re still tinted red from last night. Absolutely no dirty thoughts as the syrup drips down her chin. Or when she uses her thumb to wipe it away then licks the sticky liquid off of her fingers. All innocent. All —

“ Have you ever seen 9 ½ weeks? “ she asks him, looking up at him through her thick lashes.

“ No. What’s it about? “

“ Um — “ she starts then laughs to herself as if she’s sharing a funny inside joke with herself “ nevermind. “

“ Noooo, you can’t just start something and then not give me an explanation” he declares as the two of them get up and put the dishes into the dishwasher.

“ You know, Grumpy. There are a few things you better figure out on your own, trust me.”

“ Now you’re just being mean. “

“ No, I’m not I — “ her eyes grow wide as the song changes again and a big bright smile overtakes her entire face. Messy hair, makeup smudged, a smile on her face. God, he wishes they could stay in this little bubble forever. Hurt doesn’t exist here. Only them. Only happy things.

“ I forgot Dirty Dancing.”

“ What? “

“ You don’t know Dirty Dancing. “

“ I know plenty of dancing, thank you very much.”

“ No, Bucky. It’s a movie. It’s one of the most famous romantic movies and I forgot about it. I made a list of all the movies I wanna watch with you but didn’t think of Dirty fucking dancing. Sorry for swearing.”

“ You made a list? “

“ Yes, Grumpy. I made a list because I take this very seriously and I intend to make you watch them all with me because — because it’s fun and I like spending time with you. “

People, Bucky thinks, often take the smallest things for granted. The smallest things that make the most impact. That you will remember forever and cherish with all your heart. Like this one. People also don’t tell each other enough how much their friendships actually mean to them. People should. It feels wonderful.

“ I like spending time with you too.”

She grants him another sunshine smile before grabbing his hands and dancing along to the song. It’s faster than their late-night sway on the balcony, way less coordinated and there’s more jumping on her part and more shaking of — pretty much every body part.

This is so her. Chaotic and a little messy but so unapologetic. So fun. So happy.

“ Because IIIIII've haaaaaad the time of myyyyyy lifeeeee. No I neeeeeever felt this way before. Yes I swear it's the truuuuuuuuth. And I ooooowe it all to youuuuuu.”

“ That’s a catchy song,” Bucky says as a smile finds a way onto his lips. Sometimes it feels nice to surround yourself with people who make you smile. It’s one of the little pleasures in life one should allow themself to indulge in.

Bucky wishes he could bottle up this moment and never let go of it. Keep it for himself forever. That’s the thing about losing your memories, it makes you realize how precious every moment is and it makes you want to hold on tightly to each and every one as they happen.

“Right? I can guarantee you’ll be humming this song all day.”

(Y/N) twirls herself under his arm, away from him, then back before her eyes fall onto his glove-covered hands.

“ You don’t have to wear them for me, you know that, right? “

Sometimes he doesn’t even remember he’S wearing them, it’s become such a regular thing to him now. They are a part of him like the arm itself. They’re a shield really. From looks and judgment. And maybe, if he’s being entirely true to himself, they’re also to keep his eyes from focusing too much on the shiny silver of his hand. Of the fact that he will never be whole again. That he will never be able to feel a loving touch there ever again.

“ I know. It’s not you I’m worried about. “

“ Is it you? “

Bucky scrunches his nose up in discomfort. Talking about feelings wasn’t really a thing back when he was younger, especially for men. Sure there had been late-night talks with Steve about god and the world. About their hopes and fears and about the future. But those were few and far between and really opening himself up was never one of Bucky’s strong points. Talking about your feelings makes you vulnerable and being vulnerable was the last thing Bucky was ever allowed to be back then.

But as he said before, maybe it’s time to give up on antiquated ways.

So he nods “ Yeah. It’s — I still have a complicated relationship with the arm. I know it’s part of me and I’m glad it was given to me but it’s a huge reminder of all that I’ve lost and of a version of me that I can never go back to. A man I can never be again.”

“ Bucky,” (Y/N) starts and takes his face in between her hands. It’s a touch so soft, he can’t remember ever being handled this gently. Like a baby bird. Like a piece of porcelain. Like a treasure too precious to break. “I will never be able to fully understand how you’re feeling and I know that some of those things you have to go through alone and do the work yourself. But let me tell you something. Whoever you used to be might be gone but there’s a long-ass future waiting and it lets you be whoever you want to be. Maybe it’s time to let go of the man you were and start being the man you are because that one’s pretty great. And your arm is as much a part of that greatness as your smile or your constant grumpy mood. It’s what makes you you and you are really cool, honestly. “

His heart beats faster and stops entirely all at the same time. When he was younger he used to relish in the compliments thrown his way. He gracefully accepted them all with a knowing smirk playing on his lips. Nowadays it’s hard to believe them. Hell, it was so hard to have faith in Steve’s words. To believe that he was really worth all the effort and trouble Steve and the others went through, for him of all people. It’s so hard believing you are worth something when all you can see are your wrongdoings and shortcomings.

He wants to believe her words though. If only for a moment. If only for right now, safe and sound in their little bubble as the sun filters through the windows and the tastes of syrup still lingers in his tongue.

A few days later...

“They’re screening Dirty Dancing at the cinema around the block from me! Starts at 8pm. Come meet me, I won’t take no for an answer! xx “

He reads the message and tries to remember the way he felt that morning a few days ago when they danced around her kitchen. When she told him he was worth something. When she made him believe he wasn’t the actual worst person walking this earth. A disgrace. A mistake. A killer.

But every time he tries to go back to the bubble, a different pair of eyes show up in his mind. Eyes filled with sadness, with unimaginable suffering, with grief. All of which he put there.

He ran into Yori last night on his way home. The old man looked more fail than usual, sadder, more tired. Bucky found out why a few minutes later when he asked Yori about the cake in his grocery bag. The one with the white and green frosting.

“ It would be my son’s birthday today. I know he’s not here anymore but he was crazy about these cakes ever since he was a kid. Felt like remembering him. Would you like to join me for a piece? “

Bucky made up some half-assed excuse why he couldn’t, rushed to his apartment, and had a full-on breakdown. The kind that you don’t realize is happening until you’re all the way in the center of the hurricane.

There are shards of glass on his floor from when he threw a bottle against the wall. It’s a shame when you can’t even drown your sorrows in alcohol. His cheeks, he’s sure, are stained with tears that he had kept inside for so long.

How could he ever spend another second with (Y/N) when this is the kind of person he is. Brainwashing or not. The blood of Yori’s son is on his hands. Yori’s pain is his doing. All this grief and this hurt. It’s his fault and his alone. And Yori is just one of so many.

(Y/N) deserves a friend that doesn’t have a body count. Someone who doesn’t know what it feels when someone loses their life at his hands. Someone who doesn’t go to sleep seeing the eyes of those he’s killed. Someone who isn’t him.

His phone rings and he expects it to be (Y/N). She’s one of those people that text you then immediately call you right after. She likes to talk. In-person or over the phone. He doesn’t know if he wants to answer. Doesn’t know what to say. Would it be easier to just tell her not to contact him again? To rip off the bandaid quickly and then deal with the pain afterward?

Before he can come up with an answer to any of those questions, his eyes register the name on the caller display.

“ What?” he grumbles and leans his head against the wall.

“ Well, aren't you a happy chappy today. “

“ Sam, now’s not a good time. “

Sam hesitates for a moment then his voice sounds out from the speakers again.

“ Hey, Bucky. Are you okay? “

For a second, Bucky thinks about saying yes. He wants to keep on pretending the way he did so many times before. Wants to deal with this all by himself and not have anyone else get caught in his mess.

But he can’t. He’s tearing at the seams. He’s barely holding himself together, cracking open more and more with each passing second. So he takes a deep breath and tells the truth.

“ No. No, I’m not. “

30 minutes. No actually 34 minutes. He’s 34 minutes late. In fact, he hasn’t even answered her god damn text. He’s read it. Hasn’t answered though. And while that’s not entirely unlike Bucky, it still annoys her. Especially since when she tried to call him, the line was busy. So surely he’s on his phone. Is it too much to ask for a little reply?

If he doesn’t want to come, that's no big deal, (Y/N) tells herself, but a quick text would be the bare minimum he could give her.

Pout on her face and mood soured, (Y/N) enters the cinema and slumps down onto one of the plush red velvet seats. Not even in the mood for popcorn anymore, thanks Bucky.

There are hardly any people in there with her. Probably because by now almost every person on this planet has seen Dirty Dancing before and the weather is actually quite nice out tonight so most would rather enjoy the last rays of sun before winter will fall upon them than be stuck in a dark stuffy cinema watching a decade-old movie.

Not her though.

And if Bucky thinks she’s gonna miss out on watching this classic masterpiece because he can’t be bothered to show up, well he’s gravely mistaken. And yeah, maybe she’s being a bit dramatic, there might be a perfectly valid explanation for his no-show. That doesn’t mean it doesn’t hurt.

What happens if he actually goes on to date Leah? He’ll have less time for her that’s for sure. Movie dates won’t be happening then. Maybe it’s good she’s getting used to this now before she grows too close to him and breaks her own heart in the process of mending his.

She hates herself a little for those thoughts. Bucky deserves to be happy and if that means their friendship will be put on the backburner, then she should be okay with that, right? That’s what friends do, they want you happy no matter what it means for themself.

The Ronettes’ Be My Baby starts echoing through the room as the lights dim and (Y/N) sinks deeper into her seat, embracing the dark. The screen lights up with a black and white montage of people dancing and a swirly pink font spells out the actors' names. (Y/N) can’t wait to get lost in this picture-perfect version of real-life where things might seem bad but turn out right in the end. They always turn our right for these people. If only real life was this easy.

She’s so ready to just forget about all her troubles for the next 90 minutes.

And then a figure steps in front of the screen, nothing but a silhouette. A black shadow in front of the moving pictures. A shape she immediately recognizes.

“ Come on, dude. What the hell!” some guy in front of her yells out to Bucky, immediately following the words with a fistful of popcorn being thrown his way.

He’s here. He’s here and he’s obviously looking for her. She can’t make out his face but he’s shielding his eyes with his hands and letting his gaze wander over the crowd.

There’s a flutter in her stomach, one she knows oh too well. One she wants to bundle up and stuff to the very back of her being. A flutter that shouldn’t be there. That’s not what this is. Butterflies and goosebumps. This is eating spaghetti on the floor, dancing in the kitchen, and crying tears of laughter in IKEA. That’s what it is and what it should be. Right? But that doesn’t mean they can’t be affectionate. Right? That doesn’t mean they have to be cold and stoic and distant.

Right?

As (Y/N) reaches up her arms and waves, Bucky hurries down the platform and lets himself plop down in the seat next to her.

“ I’m sorry I was — “

“ It’s okay. You’re here now. “

That’s what matters. Being there. Just being there.

“ You deserve to have a friend, Bucky.” Sam said “ and she deserves to make her own decisions. If she decides you’re worth it, who are you to question that choice?”

Sam is right. Of course, he is. Despite how much Bucky hates to admit it, Sam is one of the smartest people he knows. Not in the way Tony or Bruce or Shuri are. Smart in a way that lets you know he gets you, he understands the chaos inside you, empathizes with it. He’s got this sense of incredible emotional awareness and a calm that exudes from him. Bucky will obviously never let him know this but talking to Sam feels more soothing and helpful than talking to his therapist.

He still doesn’t feel like he deserves her friendship, her affection, and her care. But really it would be foolish to think it’s his right to dictate who she can and can't care about.

Sitting beside her now, in the dark, with a movie playing on the big screen, makes things a bit easier. His thoughts aren’t so loud anymore and his heart, though still heavy, feels a little bit lighter. It’s easy to get lost in a story that’s not his and forget about the rest.

He almost forgets about his emotional turmoil by the time the two main characters dance around on a log, when he feels something against his left hand. First, it’s but a whisper of a touch, then more deliberate and then he feels the glove being slid off of his fingers. He doesn’t dare look over at her, eyes focused straight ahead. He doesn’t pull away though. There’s never been a touch quite so gentle against the cold vibranium metal. He doesn’t pull away, instead, he locks his fingers with hers and softly closes his fist.

If there’s moments worth holding onto, this is surely one of them.

“ I’m glad you came.” (Y/N) murmurs as she places her head against his shoulder. The one made of vibranium. The one that’s a part of him like his smile and his eyes and — his grumpy personality.

“ Yeah, me too.”

As Johnny and Baby give their all during the end of the season dance, Bucky can’t help but let himself relish in this moment.

There are two things on his mind.

One is the idea that maybe this is what friendship can be. Showing affection through soft touches and loving words. Maybe he doesn’t have to assign any deeper meaning to it. No matter how much it makes his heart beat faster or how the flutters in his stomach won't seem to settle down.

The other thing is the fact that this song is so damn catchy and while he hates himself a little for it, his feet tap along to the rhythm and he catches himself mouthing along to the lyrics.

And damn if it ain’t fitting because he has never felt this way before either.

Taglist // if you want to be added or taken off just message me :) //:

@zaynyierulez / @je-like-you / @dracoxxyoflam / @jackiehollanderr / @majo240820 / @kay-gilles / @booksb4looksstuff / @jckie94 / @charmed-asylum / @shawnie--jo / @yllwtaxi / @tailsoflightning / @giuliarogers / @mangoogirl / @gerim-1995 / @elen-alambil / @threeminutesoflife / @writeroutoftime / @buckybarn3s /

#bucky x reader #bucky barnes x female reader #bucky x f!reader #bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes x f!reader #winter solider x reader #buck barnes imagine #bucky barnes imagine #bucky barnes fanfiction #bucky barnes fanfic #avengers imagine #avengers imagines #sebasian stan imagine #sebastian stan imagines #marvel imagine #marvel imagines #james barnes x reader #james barnes x f!reader

[nashibirne]

Painkiller - 2

Here is the second part of Painkiller. Enjoy and let me know what you think!

You can find the first part here: Nashi's Masterlist

Pairing: Henry Cavill x OFC (Ella) Summary: Boy meets girl...in this Chapter they get to know each other a little better Warnings: Mentioning of body issues (slim OFC), smut in upcoming chapters but not yet Unbeta'ed. English is not my first language, so there might be mistakes/bad grammar/wrong spelling Credits: I took the pictures for the moodboard from Pinterest, for Katie I chose a pic of the lovely Nicola Coughlan. The "back pic" is from Pinterest too. If I violate any kind of copyright, please let me know.

Tags @hell1129-blog @lunedelorient @willkatfanfromasia @mis-lil-red @inlovewithhisblueeyes @agniavateira @omgkatinka @legendarywizarddetective @summersong69

Here we go!

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Ping!

Ella froze when she heard the tone of her WhatsApp notifications. It was almost noon and though she'd never admit it, she'd been waiting to hear from Henry since the moment she'd opened her eyes in the morning. Hoping it was him, she took her phone and read the message. 

Hello, Ella. This is Henry...the guy with the hard blow from the party last night.

Did he really think he had to remind her of who he was? That was damn cute.

I hope you're feeling better. I know I sound like a broken record but I can't say it often enough. I'm really, really sorry for hurting you. 

...

Hey Henry. Thanks for checking on me. I'm much better, no headache anymore. No harm done, so I can easily forgive you.

....

He answered immediately.

That's a big relief! Has your brother already examined the bruise? Are you sure it's not a concussion and nothing's broken?

....

Yes, Alex stopped by on his way to work. I'm fine, just have to take it slow for the rest of the weekend. That's it. It looks much worse than it actually is.

....

Meaning I gave you a huge shiner?

...

Yeah... It's quite impressive. Wanna see?

....

Absolutely! Videocall?

....

Sure!

Videocall! Ella didn't see that coming. She had planned to send him a selfie. Video Call...before she was able to get into a panic her phone rang and she touched the green button to take the call, her heart racing like crazy. Henry's ridiculously handsome face with the friendly blue eyes and this very pretty nose, appeared on the screen instantly. She smiled at him sheepishly, suddenly very aware of the fact that she looked like shit with her bruise, without any makeup and with uncombed hair.

"Gosh, Ella....that looks bad. I can't believe you didn't pass out after that hit." he said horrified and ashamed at the sight of her bruised eye. His beautiful deep voice sounded hollow through the speakers of her phone. "Yeah...I know. But I'm the youngest of four. I'm able to take a lot of knocks." She laughed. "I feel terrible about this." he said, sounding serious.  "Please don't, Henry. It was an accident and I'm fine. I can cross off 'having a black eye' from my bucket list now. So I guess I have to thank you for this." She winked into the camera.  Henry chuckled. "You're welcome. And to be honest...it suits you, the dark blue and violet match your beautiful green eyes perfectly and you're still incredibly pretty."  "Oh...thanks." His words took her by surprise and she knew she was blushing which made her feel self-conscious. Her short answer to his compliment was followed by a long pause and Henry wondered if he had been too straightforward or too awkward. He wished he was just half as good at flirting as everyone considered him to be. "What about your back?" Ella said hastily to keep the conversation going. "My back is fine." "Really? You can be honest with me." "Really. I swear. Only a light red trace. It hardly hurts, it's really nothing serious. I can send you a back pic later." Henry grinned. Ella almost choked on the tea she was just sipping. Back pic - dick pic. The association hit her hard and of course she blushed like a shy wallflower. Again. It had always been like this. Her pale skin turned red for the most trivial reasons. Even at school when the teachers called on her she used to blush. And there was nothing she could do about it. She hated it. Coughing she gave Henry a funny look and he cursed internally for obviously making her feel uncomfortable with his stupid remark. Back pic, really, dumbass?

"Umm...yeah...why not. But maybe you still should put some ointment for burns on it." "Well...this is going to be a problem. I'm not that flexible. I doubt I can reach that area of my back and Kal won't be able to help." Henry replied, smiling. "Kal?" Ella was irritated. Who's Kal? His boyfriend? Oh my god. Is he gay? Am I making a complete fool of myself? "My dog. He's a clever boy but he can't do that." Henry laughed. "Oh. I see..." Ella let out a relieved snort. "Maybe your girlfriend can help you." She knew her attempt to find out if he was single was both obvious and pathetic. "I don't have a girlfriend." He said calmly, looking directly into the camera. "If I had, I wouldn't be chatting with you, clumsily trying to flirt, making you feel uncomfortable." He added with a shy, apologetic smile. Flirt? Ella was speechless for a moment. She started fiddling with her fingers, nervous all of the sudden. Good heavens...Henry Cavill is trying to flirt with me. "That's good to know. And you're not making me uncomfortable. On the contrary." she said softly, smiling back at him. 

Henry didn't really know how to go on with the conversation but he didn't want their chat to end so soon either so he tried to change the subject. "That's an impressive pile of books there right behind you." "Yeah...when you take work home with you...you know how it is." Ella grinned,  turning around, giving the book on top a gentle tap. "Work? What do you do for a living?" "My sister and I run a little bookstore-cafe." "What's that? A bookstore and a cafe at the same time?" "Yeah, exactly. Like an ordinary bookstore but we also sell coffee, tea, cake, muffins and sandwiches and stuff." "Wow, that's cool. Downtown London?" "No. On the outskirts. In Uxbridge." "Is that where you live?" "Yes, I live in the flat above the store. What about you? Notting Hill? Belgravia?" "Kensington." Henry said laughing. "Of course." she joined in with a smirk. "Must be nice living there. Quite fancy I guess. Tell me all about it." And that's what he did. 

Their easy going and very funny chat was interrupted by a ring at Ella's door a few minutes later. Ella made a face, giving Henry an apologetic look.  "That must be Katie, my sister. I told her what happened and she promised to supply me with some food. I hope for pizza and ice cream but I bet it's broth and fruits." She rolled her eyes. Henry's rumbling laugh echoed through the speakers. "Well, I better say good bye then, before her sisterly revenge hits me."  A second and a third impatient ring.  "Yeah. We better say goodbye. It was really good to talk to you Henry. Thanks for checking on me. And thanks for trying to flirt with me." She gave him a sweet wink and managed to blush only a little, her cheeks turning light pink. "You're welcome, Ella. It was my pleasure." "Bye." she said and the screen of his phone turned black.

It was my pleasure? What's wrong with you, Cavill?  Henry asked himself after the end of the call. He let his head sink down on the table top of his desk. You're welcome?  That really sounded smug as fuck. Not smooth, not witty....just smug and arrogant. Like he was doing her a favour by flirting with her. Your compensation for a huge black eye? Henry Cavill being socially awkward, trying to flirt clumsily for 15 minutes straight. Jackpot. You're welcome!

"I'm an idiot, Buddy." He said, sighing, turning to Kal. "I didn't even manage to ask her out on a date."  

****

When Ella opened the door her sister swept into the room with all the vigour that was so typical for her. With her 31 years of age Katie was only 14 months older than Ella and she was the exact opposite to her. Where Ella was tall and lean, Katie was short and voluptuous. Well, Katie herself called it fat but Ella had always considered her sisters curvy bodily features pretty and enviable. She had the boobs and the butt Ella had prayed for throughout her puberty. She'd waited in vain for some curves to grow. She hardly needed an A cup and her hips were anything but round. "Don't be ungrateful." her sister said whenever Ella raised the topic. "You can eat as much as you want without gaining weight, you don't need a bra and you'll never have saggy boobs. And your ass is crisp like an apple. I would kill for a body like yours." It was hard to see it that way for Ella, when she had been called a twig and worse throughout her schooldays. "You have to eat, Darling, if you ever want to find a husband. You're thin as a rake." her late grandmother used to say with a deep sigh whenever she saw her granddaughter. The problem was, Ella did eat. A lot actually, but she never gained weight, though she really wanted to. Her ex Craig used to call her Twiggy and she'd hated it. 

"Why did it take you so long to open the door?" Katie asked, placing a big bag on the kitchen table, running a hand over her round belly. She was six months pregnant with her first child. She turned around with a worried look on her doll-like face, that was framed by wavy, blonde hair. Katie had the same big green eyes like her sister but her face was heart-shaped with a sweet little nose and plump lips. A stark contrast to Ella's oval features with the grecian nose and the wide mouth. "Are you really ok? Alex said you'll be fine but you look a little flushed." "No, no...I'm good. I was just on a video call with Henry when you ringed." "Henry Cavill, huh?" Katie wiggled her eyebrows. "Yes. Can you believe it?" Ella giggled, feeling like a schoolgirl. "Hardly. I mean, how did you -Isabella Marianne Jacobs- manage to get into a close combat with Superman. Literally." "I really don't know. I went to this party with Jax and I sit at the bar hoping to maybe catch a little glimpse of Geralt of Rivia and the next thing I know is I almost get knocked out and the guy who makes me see stars is Henry fucking Cavill in person."

Katie laughed out loud, shaking her head in disbelief. She started unpacking the bag, placing various boxes on the table. "I made you some broth and here are some apples and pears and some oat cookies." "Broth, Katie? Really? I'm not sick." "A nice, tasty vegetable broth is good for anything." "Yeah...sure." Ella made a face. "But I was hoping for some food for the nerves. Chocolate, crisps, ice cream and lasagna or pizza for example." "Why?" Katie grinned. "What's wrong with your nerves? Did your little chat with Henry shake you up?" "Very funny."  "Why did he call you in the first place?" "He wanted to make sure I survived his punch. He's really a decent and nice man." "And the simple question if you're okay, left you so flushed?" Once again she was an open book to her big sister.   "He flirted with me, Katie!" Ella blurted out, turning tomato red. "Oh my god. How? What did he say? Spill it."

Ella gave her sister a little summary of their conversation, including all the details. Katie was not only her sister, she was her best friend besides Jax and there was no need to leave something aside. "Awww...this is so romantic." "Romantic? I don't know...maybe he was just trying to make me feel better. He has a reputation to lose." Ella was sceptical. "Nonsense! If it was an act he would have been much smoother, don't you think? After all he's an actor. He knows how to pretend a flirt." "And you really think a man like him isn't a smooth flirt in real life?" "Well, he obviously is not. Even famous people can be shy or insecure, Ella." "Yeah, sure..." "Do you think he's really going to send you that....back pic?" Katie grinned. "I hope so." Ella answered sniggering. They kept talking about Henry for a full hour, giggling and laughing. Ella felt like a teenager again, drooling over her newest crush. 

After her sister had left, Ella was sitting on her couch, eating her broth, thinking about Henry. Was it really possible that he was interested in her? And maybe even more important, was she seriously interested in him? Sure, he was incredibly handsome and attractive with an interesting personality. Of course it was flattering that he flirted with her and of course it boosted her ego. But what if he'd really ask her out. Would she say yes? Was she ready?

She hadn't dated anyone since she and Craig had decided to split up and go separate ways a year ago and she wasn't sure if she was okay with getting emotionally involved with somebody again. 

A few months ago she had kind of a fling with Jackson's older brother Hunter. It was something she used to call friends with benefits, Hunter preferred the term fuck buddies, Jax called it booty calls. Whatever it was, it was strictly physical and it had come to an end when Hunter had to move to Berlin for a job. She was sad when he had to leave because the sex really had been great. He had shown her a side of physical love she'd never known before. Her sex life with Craig had been okay. Not more, not less. The usual stuff, mostly vanilla and it had been satisfying, she'd never asked for more. But Hunter was anything but Vanilla. He had awoken this naughty, dark side of Ella, taking her sexuality to the next level. 

The sound of an incoming WhatsApp message interrupted her thoughts. She took her phone and saw it was a text from Henry. Her heart skipped a beat when she started reading.

Hey Ella, here's the promised piece of evidence.

Ella gasped when she saw the picture of Henry's bare back that was taken in front of a mirror. This man was built like a greek god. But he was right, there was only a light burn along his spine. A light red trace that didn't look too bad.

Thanks. Looks good. That's a relief.

Just seconds after she'd sent her answer her mobile rang. Henry. Now her heart started racing.

"Hello?" "Hey, it's Henry again." "Yeah, I know. Hi." Ella was glad it wasn't a video call this time because -of course- she was blushing again just for the sound of his voice. "What's up?" "Well, I just wanted to say how much I enjoyed our chat earlier. And I was thinking and wondering if you might want to talk to me again and if you maybe even want to see me again...all of me. Not only my back. And...yeah...what I'm trying to ask is if you would go out with me. On a date." "Um...yes...sure. That would be nice." Ella said without hesitation. Seemingly her brain had erased all doubts about dating someone from her mind successfully. "Really? Okay. Great! So what about dinner on Saturday? Gonna pick you up at seven?" "Saturday it is." Ella said. "Where do we go?" "What about Italian?" Henry suggested. "Oh yes. I love Italian food. There are a few good restaurants here in Uxbridge." Henry hesitated for a moment. "I'd rather take you to a place I know in Notting Hill. It's really nice and cosy." "Ok. Great. Do I have to dress up?" "Well it's not the Ritz. It's sophisticated but not too fancy. You're going to like it." "Good. I'm gonna text you my address."

~~~~~~~~~

tbc

#henry cavill #henry cavill fandom #henry cavill fan fiction #henry cavill x ofc #friends to lovers #slow burn

[heresathreebee]

A Real Date

[Ava Starr x Female!Reader] 

Summary: You and Ava trying a dinner date that goes very wrong (just kidding it's actually fine). 

Previous Masterlist Next

Word count: 1.8k words

Warning(s): 13+ | no-snap au, post-Ant Man and the Wasp, swearing, internalized homophobia(?), I think I’m working through something here this might be a little personal (sorry in advance), past relationship angst, presumed past of dating multiple genders but there is no definitive sexuality established for reader in the present, this was going to be something else but the story took over and I had to roll with it. 

Author's note: no-snap au, post-Ant Man and the Wasp. I’m sorry I do not edit anymore, it only serves to stand in my way. This is part 3 of Ava Starr series beginning with Strawberry Soda. Art by Artmilla on DeviantArt (correct me if I’m wrong please)

It's important to note that not everything you see in media is the hegemonic truth. Take sapphic dating rituals for example: in media it’s a constant joke about how fast people move in together and own pets and plants like they were soulmates and always meant to be together. Which is nice to see– it’s not meant to be a cruel joke– but it does paint a picture of perfection. It doesn’t explicitly state whether your future wife is your first or fiftieth girlfriend but it sure as shit might lead you to believe every girl might be your last. 

Real people don’t work that way. Real people have different interests, different lives, different traumas, different styles and needs. Every relationship is new and it has to be done deliberately and with care for what you and your partner want. So when you think about your relationship with Ava you can’t help but feel a little guilty. 

Ava seems to like to take things slow. Your relationship prioritizes quality time over physical touch which you're fine with, but you can’t help it if you compare the details to other people you’ve dated. You’ve known each other for three months and in every other relationship by this time, you and your previous partners had hit a ton of milestones that you and Ava had just… not. So when you bring up the prospect of a ‘real date’ to Ava one night while cooking pasta in your kitchen, Ava chuckles. 

“And what exactly constitutes as a ‘real date?’” 

The television is playing some daytime television game show and the volume’s on low. You pass her the salt and take a swig from your beer with a shrug. Already you feel silly for bringing it up. 

“Dinner. A movie. Sometimes both, I guess,” you say, flustered. 

Ava raises an eyebrow at the softening bowtie noodles in the pot. “We’re having dinner right now…? Name one time we haven’t come back to your place to watch a movie.” 

“The time the power went out and we played jenga by candlelight. But I– I mean like a date outside of the house.”

“We go to out to parks, the antique mall, lunch, the arcade–” 

“Well, yeah I guess you’re right I just don’t know I still feel like–”  

“Again, how is any of it different from a ‘real date?’” 

“I don’t know! Just… just forget it.” you’re trying not to be bitter about it but you don’t even know what you mean so how could you explain it? 

Ava calls your name softly and you already feel hot shame lick up your neck when you see her face. “I didn’t mean it like that, I– I just don’t think I understand what you mean and I want to! Honestly…” 

You sigh and lean closer to her, careful not to touch but you want her to know you’re not mad. “No, I’m sorry. I just… I’ve been stuck on it for a week but I can’t seem to figure out why. Everything you’re saying I agree with but there’s still this nagging voice in my head telling me it’s not fair or I’m doing it wrong but I don’t know what it even is and I–” 

You collapse onto the kitchen floor breathless. What the fuck were you even saying? Why was this bothering you so much? What ‘s different about this relationship than any other relationship you’ve already had? Your eyes are darting back and forth and your head is a million miles away. You keep talking as if saying it out loud will make your impulsive and intrusive thoughts and motivations clearer to you. 

“It’s out of order. No, it’s not but it’s… with Jordan and Becky and Hal, I went on three dates before it felt normal. We did the traditional getting to know you stuff. Damien and Palavi were straight physical– not traditional at all but that still felt good enough somehow. And– and it’s not that I don’t believe what we have isn’t real, I just–

“Fuck, I don’t know! It feels a little like my relationship with Kat.” You can’t believe it but then the words were out there. You had never told anybody about Kat– Ava was still learning about the rest of them– but the instant those words left your mouth you regretted them. Ava was not Kat. 

For instance, Ava slipped down to sit beside you on the floor– Kat would never lower herself to meet your eye. Ava looked at you and she saw you– Kat chose to ignore your feelings whenever it became more convenient to do so. Kat made you feel special and yet not special enough– OK maybe they shared a little bit of that. A tiny, micro piece of that. 

“What was Kat like?” She said the words softly and without an ounce of jealousy. 

You gather your mind with a deep breath. “Dating Kat was like being strapped to a rocket. It was like being a part of something bigger and stronger than me. Being with her made me feel inconsequential and sometimes I liked that, but then… then I realized I was just a dirty little secret. Kat liked me because I was convenient to her, not because she actually cared about me. 

“When we talked or hung out, it had to be on her terms. No public, no friends or family, no social media. No one was allowed to know. She passed it off as just wanting me for herself but after she dumped me for something better I realized she never saw me as her equal. And it just… I was already in a dark place and that place just kind of got a whole lot darker after that. I felt especially not special.” 

You lean back and rest your head on the cabinet under the sink. “I know that’s not you. Maybe I’m just tired of feeling like I have to hide a part of myself. I did a lot of stupid things in the public eye with Palavi, maybe part of that was because I was proud of who I am and I wanted everyone to know it?” 

“I think I care too much about what other people think of me,” you said closing your eyes. 

You didn’t expect to feel Ava lean her head against your shoulder but you don’t pull away. God, you could never pull away even as you worry she may be causing herself harm just to comfort you and your rambling. Her hair tickles a bit and smells like strawberries and lavender. 

Ava lifted her head after a moment. “Let’s go on a real date then.” 

~

Why the fuck were you so nervous? This was your idea! You had trouble picking a restaurant and picking a day and picking your clothes out and picking where to sit. So many choices with so much meaning or none at all. You just need this to be perfect because you hoped maybe this is what you need to stop that nagging in your head. 

You made the call to meet each other there. You made the suggestion that it had to be somewhere nice– as in get dressed up nice. And darling, sweet, patient Ava let you have the control you so desperately needed. She offered suggestions here and there, and it helped you narrow everything down to a science. You feel a little self conscious sitting by yourself in your get up but you knew she'd be there on time. 

It's just a matter of whether or not you could sit still for five more minutes. 

You hold the cloth napkin in your palms to try and soak up the sweat. Forcing yourself to sit unnaturally still and you haven't touched your wine because you just know you'll get it everywhere somehow. Your eyes trace over the table to stop yourself from meeting the eyes of other patrons. Do nothing, wait it out. 

Ava is stunning and you don't know she's there until the wait staff places the dinner menus in front of you. So much for pulling out her chair like you wanted to– but she's here and you break out into a big smile. 

"You look amazing," you tell her. 

Ava smiles and takes a sip of the rosé you ordered. The dim lighting in the room seems to soften the contours of her face but never the sharpness of her bright eyes. Something blossoms inside you and you feel it– that thing that's been bothering you like a knot in your stomach turns into a seed and its flowering now. This is your girlfriend. Not your friend who is a girl– your significant other. She's important to you and she has decided that she feels the same way about you. 

You feel your body unwind, reaching across the table like you might touch her hand then stop an inch from her empty plate. She watches you curiously but without fear. After a beat, it's Ava who finishes the contact. She slips her hand into yours and you are delighted to discover she's not a corporeal being you've convinced yourself is real. Her skin is a little dry around the palm and she has calluses you never knew were there and she's real and this is happening. 

You resist the urge to squeeze her fingers. Let her lead. Trust her to move away if she experiences any pain. She looks away from you with a flustered face you've never seen her wear and takes another draft of her wine. 

"This is nice," she says softly. 

You eat off each others' plates and you laugh together, and if anyone's watching you wouldn't know because for once you couldn't give a rat's ass what anyone thinks. You're with your person, for now or forever doesn't matter because she's letting you hold her hand and talk about a play you want to take her to on Saturday. Your heart flutters in your chest the whole way home and it’s not until you’re standing at your front door does her hand finally slip from yours. The feeling lingers though and your face hurts from smiling. 

“This everything you wanted,” she asked. 

“Yes,” you reply, “yes it was. Thank you for indulging me, it’s exactly what I needed.” 

“I enjoyed it too.” She steps closer, seemingly reluctant to leave just yet. “We’re still going to see Rocky Horror Picture Show, right?” 

“Absolutely,” you beam, “trust me, you’re gonna love it, it’s wild.” You blow her a kiss to send her on her way and spend the next hour giggling to yourself until you finally pass out from exhaustion.

#three bees writing #ava starr #ava starr x female reader #just girls being girlfriends #I'll make a masterlist for this soon I just want like two more fics

[thirstofgames]

kitty and the jailbird

#️⃣2️⃣

-IT'S A MATCH-

A blank chat popped open and Damien stared at it for a second. He had honestly not expected it. The girl actually swiped him right. He looked at the clock impatiently; he did not have much time left in the library. There was a loud shout from the hallway, his muscles tensing, ready to hide the phone and bolt at any second.

He regretted that last question right as he pushed send. It sounded so bitter in his head now. It was a dating app after all and she was a good looking young woman.

you there?

...

hello?

busy flirting with your other matches, huh?

And there it was all about to end, the hot topic of his whereabouts. And the swift and cruel rejection that followed. It had already happened one too many times! Could he go through his again? Was it worth it? His palms were sweaty, but he never felt so cold. If the ground could just open up and swallow him whole before she finished asking... 

No, sorry

Just a little surprised we matched

you can unmatch if you want

Well, what I want is to talk with you 😊

Your profile caught my eye

what part?

Your profile pic at first.

Most guys can't pull off the broken, deep and scowling thing

But... looks good on you.

you don't look so bad yourself-

but then I read your description...

and I have to know something

shoot 🙄

It was a simple Yes/No question, but it took Kate way to long to answer. She bit her lip, thinking hard on the possibilities. It was such an unfair question though. She was not going to leave, but was not going to pursue anything with him until she knew what he was in for and how long he was going to be locked up. She'd wasted enough years waiting up on others... 

I'm just a little confused 🤔

Are you really in jail?

you gonna leave if I say yes?

It really depends...

A bittersweet smile spread on his lips. What was he expecting from a girl like her? She probably had a nice job, a supporting family and tons of friends and... an actual future. Why would she even consider wasting her time with him? The little time he had left... Better to just pull off the band aid!

She felt to bad! She hadn't meant to disregard his feelings, but wasn't it fair to let her know what she was getting into? She didn't even know what he was expecting from the conversation they were having... She was curious, but she didn’t want to lead him on.

okay, let's just say...

the orange pants and barbed wire are real

OMG

I have so mane questions 😱

here we go...

What did you do?

Wait, where do you even hide your phone?

STOP!

enough with the interrogation, alright?

I'm just curious...

sure, but i'm more than just a prisoner

a little respect goes a long way

Kate’s heart sank. He was hot, but the prison was a serious issue... She supposed people were not lining up to get to know him. He seemed pretty well rounded and mannered, but he was very defensive about his crime. Did that mean it was something really bad? But he was on a dating app... so maybe he was getting out soon? 

You're right!

I'm so sorry 😓

Let's change the subject

Why don't you tell me what you're looking for

hmmm

What?

i'm thinking...

nobody's really asked me that before

Seriously?

most people stop talking to me when they find out i'm locked up

i don't really blame them. i'm rough around the edges.

She didn't say anything for a while and Damien started wondering if he should just close the damn phone and leave. He should also probably take a break from Lovelink after this... it clearly wasn't doing him any good. Dark thoughts swarmed his mind and he had to close his eyes and head his head back against the bookshelf to get rid of the harrowing feeling. Like he was falling in an endless pit...  

The screen showed him typing and deleting several responses. Kate pursed her lips, impatient. Had she said anything wrong? She’d never spoken to someone who’d been locked up, she was still unsure what could trigger painful memories, or just remind him that he was... not free. But he said he just wanted to chat and his profile mentioned 'deep conversations'... 

Okay, I'm not running away, for now

but...

But I can't really make up my mind

If I don't know anything about you

So...

alright

honestly I'm just looking to talk to someone from the outside

it can get pretty boring in here, just waiting around the clock

Let's be friends then 😊

I'll be your window to the outside world

If that's alright with you...?

Damien sighed on the other end. Beggars can’t be choosers. It was a step in the right direction though. Maybe he was not going to find the love of his life at the very fucking end of said life. He was not living in some fairytale! He was still going to die, alone and forgotten.

But maybe... just a little less alone at the very end of his road. One friend meant more than none and maybe, just maybe... he could tell her his side of the story. Eventually. She seemed patient and understanding enough. Let at least one person out there know he did not murder his own father. 

sure

that's more than most

Of course a pretty thing like her got a lot on attention... She was only chatting up with him because the others were offline- 

but it must have been pretty bad to be such a long sentence

you still can't tell me what the crime was?

look, i've been making my own rules my whole life

you better ask what crimes I DIDN'T do

wow...

i'm no bragging or anything, just letting you know where I'm at

anyways, I'm more interested in what you're all about

what are you doing on an app like this?

Honestly...

I was about to uninstall it right before we matched 😅

Oh

you already found the one?

or no luck at all?

Well, I went on a few nice dates...

i see

Suddenly his experience on the app seemed less awful. Maybe it was not the right place. Or perhaps it was just the place for a misfit like him, here with all the weirdoes and con artists. 

And then they ditched me for their exes

Just my luck 😂

Oh and I swear to god if I see one more vampire 🙄 🙄 🙄 🙄 🙄

vampires?

Yeees

You wouldn't believe some of the things I saw...

OMG, one dude was actually dresses up as a centaur

I...

don't even want to ask

There's also the 'prince' scam going around

Dudes claiming to be the heirs of some  

Made up countries and asking you for money

It wasn't quite a rejection, but it still hurt a little. She already mentioned twice she was only interested in him as friends. She didn't need to spell it out every few minutes! But she was the only one... 

Met some nice people too ☺️

Actually became good friends with some

Which is nice since I just moved here

were did you come from?

Pallay 💜

you're a long way from home

I know 😢

I suppose it was getting kinda lonely

My friends and family come visit when they can

But that's not a lot...

what brought you here?

Got a really good job opportunity

But I didn't quite realize how far away I'd be

So yeah, to answer your question from before...

I'm kinda just chatting with new people

Made more friends than anything else lol

Hope that's aright with you 🤗

A smile crept on his lips. An actual, genuine smile. How long had it been since he had any reason to? God, it felt good to talk to someone! Someone who didn't know him, who didn't shout 'walking corpse' after him, didn't judge him. He almost felt like his old self. Almost. 

i'm cool with that

Great!

Looking forward to getting to know you, Damien 😄

so let's get to it

tell me about yourself

hobbies, favorite food, anything

my hobbies are always changing 🤔

I start something new every month or so

Oh, and I started volunteering at a vet lately

🐱🐶💕

With a friend I made on this app

it suits you

Hmmmmm how would you know?

We've only just met

just a hunch

I could secretly be evil 😈

you couldn't hurt a fly

besides, I've seen evil and believe me

you're not it

I'm guessing you're not going to elaborate on that

Are you?

see, you know me so well already

Smartass 😝

 At lest until she finds out.

And I love food 🤤

Who doesn't? lol

But picking a favorite is like... impossible

I do have one hell of a sweet tooth  🍫🍬🍦

I'm soooo jealous

I miss making my own meals

That's right! You probably just have a cafeteria.

I'm so sorry 😓

it's cool

i'm glad we have something in common

Is there any food you miss?

Wait... was there even steak in that picture? Kate felt her ears burning, the fluffy pajamas studently itching at her skin.

just makin my own in general, being in charge in the kitchen

Damien scrolled quickly through his phone, the memories leaving a bitter taste in his mouth. He nearly didn’t send the photo. It felt like so long ago, a different time...a different person. But it felt so good to remember! To be reminded of the more happier moments when he had all his life ahead of him! And showing her a piece of his past may make her curious enough to stick around for a while longer.

He hit Send.

-Tap to download photo-

Oh

Looks... delicious

you like steak? 

Oh yeah, the food 😳

Wish I could have a bite of that hahaha

So not so shy and innocent as she claimed. Good to know. Even if it didn’t lead anywhere, which he had to be realistic about - he was on death row after all - it was still fun. The most fun he’d had in a long while. It felt...nice.

HA!

i wish you could too 😏

The door of the library swung open hitting the opposite wall. The guard in charge could be heard arguing with someone. At least four voices. He had to move fast.

I'm really hungry now 😅

good

Kate stared at the screen, the little green light besides his profile picture going grey. She scrolled through the conversation as if to make sure she hadn’t just imagined it. She tapped the picture he’d sent, a small smile creeping on her lips. He looked so... normal. Well, more like smoking hot, but she expected some kind of dump, or some greasy repair shop, not Greek sculpture level abs. The boy should come with a warning! She was a sucker for bad boys, but had she gotten so bad that she was now considering a fucking convict? What if he was a murderer or something??

shit!

???

someone's coming

gotta hide my phone

talk soon

Be careful! 🙏🏻

Her ice cream, forgotten on the coffee table, had turned to soup.

What had she gotten herself into?

#lovelink #damien jones #kitty and the jailbird #austin russo #counterpart

[bandomgay]

My brain to yours pt.1 b.u

Tw: blood,gore,self harm,violence,hallucinations,slight mention of an ed

Au: hey babes this is gonna be my 5th time trying to post this and i want death so bad...however if there is any confusing things or typos or things seem to quickly paced im sorry thats just my brain babey! Enjoy...i guess

Word count: 1,894

It all started when he was about 6 years old, he never spoke ever,not that he couldn't he just wouldn't, his parents were worried about his development,however nothing was ‘wrong', he had a quite developed thinking process for a child, but it wasn't a good one for his age nor was it a normal one,no child should be so terrified of talking to people and being thought lesser of as his voice shook violently while trying to say the easiest of sentences.

he understood people to early into his young life ,he got the memo that everything was too stupid and too hard to understand so he gave up . his mother took him back and forth to hospitals and child psychologists ,his mother scared for what was to come of him could this weirdness she didn't even have a name or diagnosis for develop into something more as he grew? She thought, would he be normal? Would he be like the other children who laughed and giggled at the littlest of things? Would he be happy like them? She had decided to push her concerns into the back of head deciding that maybe he was just awkward it's okay to not fit in hes a fucking 6 year old boy maybe it's not that deep.

he was now in the 3rd grade now and teachers became more and more loud and responsive with their problems, he thought maybe whatever bad stuff they had going on at home they just needed to vent threw aggressiveness and shaking hands and restless mornings,but however it was their screams he didn't care for, he looked them in the eye wondering what he had done wrong, however he didn't care enough to continually think about it, but he realized slowly that couldn't feel anything like the red faced teacher did, he’d envy the poor mannered teachers feelings if he could, just how they could get so angry and fed up with kids who were disgusting and vile and how he never felt that…... he never felt anything at all .Now he was in the 5th grade he had to repeat the 4th grade due to staggeringly low grades and his failed attempts at homework he never seemed to have remembered. Things were getting hard to remember, so hard to remember what the teacher had said in the classroom that seemed to fade away after he was picked up by his mom and the sheer silence of the drive home and his mothers sneaking looks into the mirror with furrowed eyebrows at her son who never told her how his day went.

In school it was just so easy just to drift off in the land of dark swirls and dark worlds filled with make believe that he couldn't separate from the real world that never seemed to go away and darkness he felt comfort in his head till he heard nothing but the disgusting laugh of a teacher who had looked as if she wanted to deck him in the face ( he imagined about 3 different scenarios of how that actually could have occured, he held back a giggle and a sly smirk) as she snapped her wrinkled hands in his face “earth to brendon” he heard the aged feminine voice laced with anger repeat twice but he had failed to tune into the first reminder he was too dissociated to notice, he came too but didn't understand her reasonings of not just leaving him alone and let him rot and break free and he soon heard the fits of laughter coming from children he knew he was too weak to stop.

he wanted to do terrible things to everyone in that very room including himself, a dark desire he couldn't contain from his mind but he never followed through with these type of thoughts. he could never seemed control them he thought of them like messages being sent from an unknown source in the back of his head that had an invisible connection to someone he could see but nobody else could he dared himself if he could just pull at the cord in his head he wouldn't have those those thoughts, the figure never showed up in the same form it could be the shadows of dirty rain water coming from outside showing like a projection on the dingy beat up wall rising above him to claim a mental dominance , or the rotten stain of mold on the bathroom floor that now seemed to have a charming glow yet secretive smile or the bag of dirty clothes that sat high up on its rounded edges now smiled at him and watched him threw the night .

now it was the 7th grade and things had went to shit,it was already shit but it had gotten no better, fits of depression had left him wanting to call a hitman on himself and letting himself be cut open so all the organs in his body to be shot out of him or rip his jaw and everything behind it out of his body but he was too fatigued to think about it anymore his brain seemed to have stopped working back in the 6th grade, he could never think clearly a heavy fog on his brain he could never do much for himself he found the most simple of things he couldn't do, he couldn't pay attention, he felt dizzy at random times becoming feverish and not thinking about why because he couldn't think he thought process lessen and lessened with every passing day until all there were was thoughts of gore and death,sadness and the never ending thought of killing anyone or anything that had managed to make him want death even more.

he just continued to fade in and out of reality staring into the wall for to long or unknowingly staring at the couple of people who he thought was calling him pathetic and worthless with the contradictory voice telling him he's so much better than the disgusting people he saw and that they didn't deserve to smile they don't deserve happiness even though they’d never even spoken a word to him, they were never mean to him. he started pinching,stabbing,pulling at his hair,clawing at himself hard trying to see if he could care that he'd just hurt himself he continued to hurt himself hoping somewhere in the back of his mind he start to feel things, to show him he's real everyone sees him, but his inner self knew what he was doing he wasn't just trying to see if he was a real person he was punishing himself because he couldn't do what the rest of the real kids could do he couldnt plop himeself in a hard metal chair and take a test without thinking about what a disgusting person he was, without hearing them say he wasn't shit that his brain is mush that he couldn't understand the easy directions how he could get so angry and mad without hesitation how he could imagine killing his parents im cold blood… he stomped on his own foot,why is he thinking about this why is he thinking about this why, they creeped back up on him showing him images of his brother and sisters dead and gutted his parents choking on blood and vomit pale and dying, he hated himself for thinking these things,but if it was possible for him to be completely honest with himself he didn't care if they had died or not he just didn't have the ability to care.

He couldn't look people in the face without seeing these images of grewling faces pushed together in piles of pink and red flesh crawling into each others organs which looked rotten and distorted, why was he seeing this things these disgusting things these things… he wouldn't admit to himself that everytime he looked in the mirror he tried not to vomit he tried to hard, he bashed in the mirror bloodlying his hand, his hiss echoing in the empty bathroom he couldn't go to the nurse he couldn't look her in the eye and see her like that, besides he was on the first floor and he was too weak to go all the way to the fourth floor he knew he would pass out, he felt something pooling in his stomach it was anxiety he felt the cramping in his stomach and the salivating in his dry mouth, he vomited into the sink, he hasn't eaten anything in about 3 weeks so the pain of dry heaving for almost half in hour into the sink made him dizzy and ultimately pass out. he had now awoken to bright lights that made him nauseous and whimper, he was in the hospital again. he tried so hard not look the nurses and doctors in the eye and seeing horrific images in his mind of them dead, rotten maggot filled and bloody be he regained his ability to see the normally after a while.

“Brendon honey…” his mommy's voice was there “mommy...hi mommy” he said in a broken whisper. She had realized he never calls her mommy unless something's wrong he wasn't aware that he was, he turned to the right finding an iv carefully placed into in scarily pale arm “honey...they found you in the bathroom your hand was cut up...you where passed out what...t?” she silenced herself for a moment seconds later starting up again. “They found you in the bathroom..the mirror was broken and your hand was cut pretty deep and passed out” he mouth trembled a bit, she moved his sweaty bangs out of his forehead, he felt wetness on his skin his own uniform shirt clinging to his skin he was sweating.

He didn't feel real he didn't respond properly to what she had said he only looked away.. And said “dizzy….everything hurts…” he was so surprised he felt something but if feeling was like this he didn't want it. “I d..don't wanna feel like this..can you make it stop mommy please?!” Nani was absolutely terrified she'd never been so scared for her little boy, “its gonna be okay,sweetie...i swear..to god i swear…” in this moment if she was honest she didn't believe there was a god, no god would do this to her son, she turned around after hearing the door and hard footsteps.

“Hello ms. Urie im dr. Yakima, i will be assisting and diagnosing your son” she nodded softly wanting her son to be okay. “Hey son,open your eyes for me,i'm here to help” brendon heard a much more distorted version of what the doctor had said than nani did, but then again he was fading in and out. He handed her pills and said firmly “these are anti-nausea and pain killers i'm gonna give these to him and he will feel much much better i promise..” He was right it with his cocked up eyebrow and charming smile that sparkled with calmness and reassurance that worked its way into nani. the medication  worked but not instantly. “Sit up honey..” She said softly, he followed what she said slowly with a wrecked groan and intense muscle pain however there was no rush.

#brendon urie #panic! at the disco #patd #*****mine #brendon urie imagine