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havin-a-wee · 3 years

Text

If Only She Knew

pairing: dad!harry x cheerleader!reader

word count: 4.2k

warnings: smut (fingering + unprotected sex), cheerleading position implies readers weight, 20 year age gap

hi! ive been having some really bad writers block but i wrote this and even though its def not my best work i like it enough to post it :) also, i totally didn't mean to imply the readers weight, i only realized afterwards, so im really sorry about that. also the age gap is kinda big, so if ur uncomfy with that you shouldn't read this <3

PLEASE REBLOG IF YOU ENJOY

“Geez watch where you’re going!”

You don’t even look up at the girl, recognizing her nasally voice easily from how annoying it is. You were nose deep in a book while walking down the school hallway, and of course your worst enemy had to be walking down the same hallway, at the same time, in the opposite direction. You are both at fault for the collision, considering Ella had her eyes locked on her instagram feed. But knowing the girl, there is no way in hell that she will take any responsibility, even though you are the one who has coffee dripping down the front of your white blouse.

Since middle school, Ella Styles has always hated you. You have never known why, but she seems to have a vendetta against you, and tries her best to make your life miserable. You never let her, always refraining from giving her the explosive reaction that she was looking for. And that makes her hate you even more.

High school is over in 2 months, and although you are going to miss the freedom of being a child, you most definitely won’t miss the people from the tiny town you’ve lived in since you were young. You’ve always been the type of person to have a small friend group, only 4 people in your circle. But that’s how you like it, because crippling social anxiety makes it difficult for you to meet new people.

“I- sorry.” You still don’t look at her, instead peeling the soaking wet top off of your stomach.

“You better be sorry.” She flips her blonde hair, ensuring that the fluffy locks hit you right in the face. You are lucky this time seeing as she didn’t take it further, because sometimes she would purposely embarrass you after small incidents such as this one.

Tears well at your waterline and you run into the nearest bathroom, pushing open the blue door and locking yourself in a stall.

After all these years of torment, Ella rarely was able to get to you. But sometimes, she does something that pushes you off the edge, leaving you with red, tear-stained cheeks. The final straw this time was her ruining your brand new shirt, the one you were anxiously waiting to debut at school.

But now there was coffee dripping down your chest and staining the bright white fabric. Your only saving grace is the cheerleading uniform in your backpack. In fact, you were walking to the locker room to change for practice, and then for the game at 6 tonight.

You had been excited for the game, knowing that Friday night games always led to parties and fun afterwards. You rarely go to parties of course, but the buzzing energy never fails to rub off on you. But now that stupid Ella had to go and mess up your day, you’re dreading seeing her smug face while she asserts her dominance as cheer captain.

You untie your top and rip it off in a haste, frustrated tears running down your face periodically. You could’ve put a jacket on and gone to the locker room, but Ella would be going there soon, and the last thing you want to do is run into her with teary eyes. She can’t know that you let her get to you.

You brush your hands down your uniform, pulling down the skimpy costume and stuffing your old clothes in your backpack. Once out of the stall, you pull your hair up into a high ponytail, reapply your lip gloss and walk back into the hallway, having already done your makeup that morning. You’re happy that it’s a home game today, because the home game uniforms are two pieces and the skirts are smaller than the ones on the away game uniforms. There is a certain someone you are looking to impress, and the way your tits spill out from the top of the outfit will most certainly help you in your mission.

It’s not like you need to impress him, because he’s shown time and time again that he finds you sexy no matter what you wear. And when he doesn’t tell you, he shows you, by pressing his hard on up against your ass after you just woke up, despite your messy hair and bare face.

However, he also loves when you tease him. And that’s exactly what you’re planning to do.

You sling your heavy backpack over one shoulder and trudge down the hallway, the old fluorescent lights practically blinding you on your journey. The locker room is dingy, smelling of cheap soap and Victoria’s Secret perfume. At least it doesn’t smell like the boys locker room, which smells like sweat and more sweat.

It's already bustling with people, your teammates scrambling to get ready in time as to not get yelled at by the coach.

“Y/N!” The familiar shout of your best friend Rose is like a breath of fresh air, and you bound over to her. She’s standing in front of your lockers, the two of you obviously picking ones next to each other. “Wait, why are you already changed?”

“The bitch spilled her coffee all over me,” you grumbled, your eyes shifting over to where Ella and her little goons are giggling.

“I keep telling you, anytime you want me to beat her up I will gladly do it.”

“Not that I doubt your abilities Rose, because I know you would have her on the ground in a heartbeat, but I can’t let you do that. She can’t know that she upsets me.” You lower your voice for the second sentence, irrationally fearing that she can hear you over the loud chatter echoing through the room.

“I still think you should let me beat her up, but you do you I guess.” Rose shrugged her shoulders and turned back to her locker, bursting out into laughter with you after a beat of silence.

The rest of the getting ready process goes smoothly, Rose distracting you from the girl side-eyeing you in the corner. Soon enough, the whole squad was in formation outside, and you have your hands on the shoulders of Rose and another girl named Bethany. You are a flyer, meaning that you’re the one who the bases support while you pose and flip in the air. Its a hard job, but you are one of only three girls on the team who is advanced enough at flying to be safe doing it in routines. One of the other three girls is Ella.

Ella is the flyer for the middle group, seeing as she is the captain. You are on the right and the other group is on the left. Luckily, Rose is a base in your group, so you feel a lot better putting your safety in the hands of someone you already trust with your life.

“ELLA! YOU’RE DOING IT WRONG!” Coach Habbiths voice is piercing, her angry shrieks bouncing off your ear drums. Ella audibly huffs, displaying her frustration with the critiques she has been receiving since we learned the routine weeks ago. That’s one of the biggest problems with Ella, she believes that she's always right.

Every single practice she has done a needle instead of a scale at the end of the routine. It's aggravating for everyone, and that frustration is amplified everytime she makes the same mistake over and over. “Alright, everyone down. group 1 and group 3 take five, Ella and group 2 stay on the field.

The team obliged to her instructions, and you are brought down from the air.

“Okay Ella, I want you to watch how Y/N does the last move, because she’s actually doing it correctly.” Coach is standing in front of you now, and she emphasized the word ‘correctly’. This is much to Ella’s dismay, and much to your excitement.

Nothing brings you more joy than seeing Ella’s face when you one up her, and this time is no exception.

Aside from a few eye rolls and nasty looks, Ella corrects the move without much fuss. By now there's 15 minutes until the game, and the players have been warming up on the field for about half an hour.

“Did you see her face!” Rose tugs on your arm while you walk back to the locker room, water bottles in hand.

“I know! I should’ve taken a picture!”

“We can only hope that it knocked her ego down a peg.”

“I doubt it” Rose nodded in agreement and you continued your chatter, talking about the random things that best friends talk about.

“It’s go time ladies!” You jumped in surprise when Coach Habbiths yelling booms through the locker room, the hefty amount of metal in the room enhancing the echo.

In a blur, your entire team rushed out onto the field, the crisp air cooling your warmed skin. There was a huge crowd. probably the biggest the teams ever had. But that makes sense, because this game was against your school's biggest rival. Luckily, despite the huge crowd you were able to lock eyes with those piercing green irises you have gotten to know so well over the past couple months. Everytime you see him he gets more and more attractive, and this time is no exception.

At this point, the teams routine is muscle memory and you’re done with it before you can blink. Most people would think that being thrown in the air is memorable, but your main concern is the growing wet patch on your panties that spreads each time you squeeze your thighs together. Just the thought of the man is enough to turn you on, and now that you’re sitting on the cold metal bench your imagination has time to go wild.

The only thing that snapped you out of your daze was the eruption of appaulause from the audience, and the realization that the other cheerleaders were standing up and running towards the players. You breath out a sigh of relief, recognizing the cheering as a signal that the game has ended.

“Hey, you coming?” Rose tugs on your arm, looking down at you still on the bench.

“Um, actually I don’t feel so well, I think I’m going to go home.”

“I should’ve known. You know, one day you’re going to have to go to a party.” Rose places her hands on her hips, giving you a sarcastically annoyed stare.

“And today is not that day.” You grab your backpack and sling it over your shoulder, turning back to Rose for a second. “Have fun and be safe.”

“I always do.” Rose places a chaste kiss on your cheek before turning back to the gathering crowd on the turf.

Instead of heading to the sidewalk and walking home, you duck under the bleachers and walk down the gravel path, pushing open the fence that separates the field and the school. The contents of your backpack slosh around while you sway your hips as you walk. Finally, you make it to the back wall of the school, leaning your back against it and plopping your heavy backpack down by your feet.

And now you wait.

Much to your convenience, the wait this time isn’t long, only five minutes passing before you see the familiar man following the same path you did earlier.

He has a pair of brown slacks on, pressing against his waist courtesy of his black belt. A button up white shirt hides the tattoos on his stomach, but he's rolling up his sleeves as he walks over to you. He's walking with intention, hungry eyes zeroed in on you.

When he’s only steps away, you cheekily bite your lip and use your finger to push up your skirt a little bit more.

Your actions have the intended effect, his eyes blowing wide and hands grasping at your waist.

“Y’can’t do that.”

Before you have a chance to ask what he means, his lips collide with yours, his tongue slipping in only moments after the initial kiss. But as soon as he started, he pulls away.

“Y’can’t be teasing me on the field like tha’, had me hard next t’my friends.” His hand is on the wall above your head, and his other arm is wrapped around your waist pulling you into his chest. He’s panting, and you are too.

“Sorry Mr. Styles,” you push your bottom lip out in a pout, giving him the most innocent look possible. “Just wanted to wear it cause I know how much you like it.”

“Aw, my babygirl wore this f’me? Well I guess y’can be forgiven. Now let’s get t’my house before I fuck yeh right on this wall.” He places a soft kiss to your lips picking up your backpack from the floor and turning to the direction of his car.

“But it hurts!” He turns around again, giving you a sympathetic look and caressing your cheek. The rings on his fingers are cold, but you’re used to the feeling.

“I know sweet girl, but I can’t take care of yeh here, s’too risky.” He pauses for a moment, thinking of a solution to your not so little problem. “How bout I give y’my fingers in the car? Hows that sound hm?” You nod eagerly, pulling his hand down from your cheek and holding it. He takes the signal and begins walking to his car while you follow him.

You never planned to sleep with your bullies dad. But a few months ago your parents dragged you to a family friends housewarming party, and that friend happened to be a friend of Harry’s too. There were no other teenagers there, so your focus was on the attractive older man who had been checking you out since you first locked eyes, and after ending up in the upstairs bathroom together the two of you have been fucking at least twice a week. You only learned that he’s a dad when you saw him for the first time outside the party. He didn’t look the part, and you actually thought he was in his 20s until he corrected you. He’s 38, having become a parent at only 20 years old. Your relationship is a bit taboo, but you’re a mature 18 year old and you and Harry get along well. So well that your time together has developed from casual sex to a mutually exclusive relationship. (Neither of you like labels, but you’re basically boyfriend and girlfriend).

He makes you really happy, and when you have to face off against Ella, it helps knowing that you have power over her, even though she doesn’t know it.

“Did she do anything today?” Harry is walking beside you, hands still intertwined.

“Besides spilling coffee on my shirt, nothing much.” Harry sighs in frustration and squeezes your hand as a show of affection.

“M’so sorry, I wish y’didn’t ‘ave to deal with her.”

The thing about Harry and Ella is they can barely be considered family. Ella’s mom is, for lack of a better word, a bitch. She’s snobby, conceited, and rude, and those behaviors have rubbed off on Ella. Another thing that rubbed off on her was her mom’s hatred for Harry. Being young parents put strain on their already struggling relationship, and they split before Ella’s first birthday. Harry said he tried his best to make it work for Ella’s sake, but her mom was looking for someone to pay for her life, and Harry had just started working his way up as a businessman.

Now, he’s a CEO, but luckily Ella’s mom already found a new beau with plenty of money, so she didn’t come crawling back to him. However, the success Harry achieved only a few years after their breakup made her jealous, and so she instilled that anger in their daughter. So currently Ella spends most of her time with her mother, and when she is with Harry she doesn’t treat him kindly.

“It’s not your fault Harry, you don’t have to apologize for her actions.”

“I know, I jus’ hate tha’ she treats yeh like that.” He sighs again, reaching into his pocket to grab his keys. In a few more steps you’re standing outside the sleek black suv, walking around to the passenger seat and sliding in once you hear the click of the door unlocking.

You both take a few seconds to breathe, an unspoken gesture to prepare for the night's events. Harry turns to you, a sexy smirk plastered on his face. “What d’ya think about fixin’ that ache darlin?” You nod eagerly, sliding down a bit in your seat to give your legs room to spread. “Think yeh can take off y’skirt fo’me?” Your head bobs once again as you nod, hooking your fingers under the elastic waistband and shimmying out of the skirt. While you’re doing that, Harry turns the car into the deserted street, using only one hand to steer.

You toss the tiny skirt into his lap, giving him a signal without distracting his eyes from the road. He reacts immediately, his free hand coming down to squeeze your thigh. You mewl at the contact and bite down on your lip, trying to stop your hips from bucking up in search of relief. His squeezes move up your thigh, and finally his fingers press against your weeping cunt. Swiftly, he pushes your soiled panties to the side, swiping his fingers up your folds collecting your juices. You shriek and buck your hips up into his hand, but much to your dismay he removes it from between your thighs. The car comes to a stop at a red light, and Harry takes the moment to look at you, his eyes wandering your squirming body. He’s practically drooling when he places his fingers in his mouth, tasting your sweet wetness.

“Sorry pup, jus’ needed t’taste yeh.” He chuckles again, and you whine softly in desperation. In one quick motion, he dives his hand back to your pussy, pressing his thumb on your swollen clit.

“Fuck!” The pleasure shoots up your spine, goosebumps raising across your body as he rubs circles on the puffy button. “Harry- please,”

“What d’ya want puppy? Want m’fingers?”

“Yes, yes,” you breathe out, words barely comprehensible through your panting.

“Alright, alright, I gotcha.” And with that his two fingers press into you, filling your tight hole perfectly. There is no hesitation before he begins pumping the digits in and out of you and his thumb never lets up on your bundle of nerves. “Such a needy puppy, got yeh soaking f’me from out in the stands hm?” His eyes are still on the road, but you can picture the lust filled eyes that are undoubtedly on his face.

“Get so wet jus- just thinkin’ about you,” you gasp, writhing as his fingers slam in and out of you.

“Yeah? This is my cunt, m’the only one who can make yeh this wet, isn’t tha’ right?”

“Only Harry.” At your confirmation he speeds his hand up, your vision clouding with white spots as the knot building in your stomach grows tighter and tighter.

All of a sudden, he pulls his fingers out of you, leaving you empty. “Wha-” You begin to question him but you realize that he’s pulling into his driveway. Instead of complaining, you sit up quickly and unbuckle your seatbelt, pulling your skirt back up your legs to avoid being nude on his front lawn.

As soon as you feel the little jolt your hand yanks on the handle and you hop out of the car. Your brain is fuzzy with need and all you are focused on is alleviating the aching between your thighs. You hear Harry lock the car while you're on the steps, and you turn back to ensure that he’s behind you. And sure enough, he’s hot on your trail, just as eager as you to get inside and onto his bed. Your foot is tapping on the ground anxiously, waiting for Harry to unlock the front door. After what seems like an hour, he is next to you again, fumbling with the silver keychain in his hand, eventually unlocking and pushing open the door. You both practically run inside, hands roaming each other's bodies and lips locking as you shuffle through the hall.

You disconnect breathlessly when you reach the stairs, subconsciously wrapping your hands around Harry’s neck so he can pick you up bridal style. He does so hastily, barely a second passing before he’s plopping you onto the fluffy mattress. “Finally,” he pants, hands fumbling with his belt buckle. There’s a prominent bulge in his trousers, and although you’ve seen it plenty, you are always in awe at how thick and big he is. While he’s busy removing his clothes, you are practically drooling at the sight of his bare cock, full, heavy, and dripping precome.

“Harry?”

He looks back down at you with his emerald green eyes, simultaneously dropping his recently-removed shirt on the floor. “Can I ride you?” The look he gives you is indescribable, a mixture of need, lust, cockiness, and beauty all rolled up into one.

“Whatever y’want puppy,” His hands scoop under your ass, and he lifts you up and switches your positions. Now it’s your turn to undress, and Harry makes himself busy by running his hands up and down your torso. “So gorgeous, y’know that?” You nod quickly then pull your shirt off of your head. “Most beautiful girl in the world I reckon.” You blush at the compliment, butterflies being added to the many sensations occuring in your body. You straddle his thighs, wrapping your hand around his length and tugging a few times. A loud groan rumbles through his throat, and you smile knowing you’re the one who made him feel like that. “Thought- thought yeh said y’wanted to ride me pup.”

“I do.” You keep your hand on his cock, sitting up on your knees and lining him up with your weeping cunt. All at once, your body is put at ease as his cock fills you up perfectly. He bottoms out inside of you, both of you moaning and groaning while you adjust. “So big-” Your words come out in choppy pants, the syllables being cut off by your heaves. You suck in one deep breath and move upwards, sinking back down onto him quickly. His large hands hold a tight grip on your waist, guiding you up and down his member. His lips attach to your neck, suckling on the supple skin just enough so that it doesn’t bruise.

“What a dirty little puppy you are,” he growls, eyes focusing heavily on where your bodies connect, watching himself disappear inside of you as you bounce up and down on his cock.

“Feel so full-” Tingles ricochet down every part of your body, and your legs are becoming weaker with each movement. Harry can feel your movement faltering, so his hips thrust upwards to meet yours, fucking you from underneath. “Harry!”

“I know pup, I know.” His thumb strokes your cheek and he leans in for another kiss, devouring your plump lips and swirling his tongue around yours. “So fuckin tight,” The words tumble from his mouth in a low growl, which sends the butterflies in your stomach into a frenzy. His cock twitches inside of you, encouraging you to muster all your energy and finish both of you off. Adrenaline kicks in and your strength returns, riding him faster and harder than before. “Let go f’me Y/N.” It only takes a few more thrusts for you to come undone, Harry’s orgasm following suit. The waves of pleasure roll through your body, and you throw your head back in ecstasy as you allow the feeling to overcome your body. Spurts of his hot cum cover your velvety walls and you ride out your orgasms together, resting your foreheads against one another.

You end up sleeping at his house, feeling safe knowing that Ella is staying with her mom today. It’s normal for you to sleep at his place, seeing as both of you are usually so tired that you pass out before you can leave. What isn’t normal is for you to be woken up in the morning by Harry’s phone ringing. Harry is a deep sleeper, and you laugh at the sight of him conked out while his ringtone blares on the nightstand just a few inches away. Carefully, you reach over his sleeping body and grab the phone, planning on hanging it up and going back to bed. However, when you saw that it was Ella calling, you changed your mind. Making a split second decision, you slide the icon to the right, holding it up to your ear.

“Hello?” Her whiney voice rings through your eardrum and you wince. Not the nicest thing to be woken up to.

“Hello,” you answer, your voice not reflecting the cocky grin that spread across your face.

“Who the hell is this!” she shrieks, and you make a mental note that she must not be a morning person.

“A friend of your dads.” Your response is once again calm and monotone, trying to stifle the laugh that is bubbling in your throat.

“Ugh! What’s your name?”

“Y/N. Y/N Y/L/N”

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yourmidnightlover · 3 years

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all my fault

Request: spencer and y/n are married, and they’ve been trying to have kids, and then she finds out she’s pregnant. a few weeks into the pregnancy, she has a miscarriage, and at the hospital the doctor said it’s bc she had an abortion as a teenager, and it fucked up her it yet us. spencer didn’t know she had an abortion, and blames her for the death of the baby, and they end up sleeping separately for a while and they have to grieve by themselves. spencer ends up talking to emily about it bc of her experience and it has a comforting ending!

Summary: when reader has a miscarriage after trying to have a baby with spencer, and things about her past are revealed and leaves things rocky within their relationship.

CW: miscarriage, pregnancy, mention of abortion, spencer’s rly harsh at first, teenage pregnancy, mentions of surgery, a cervix condition that i kinda made up, depressive thoughts, negative self-worth, HAPPY ENDING. *please let me know if i’ve missed anything*

A/N: i’ve been working on coming up with a series, which i posted last thursday! i’m sorry i haven’t been as consistent with my schedule, this summer has really taken a toll on my mental health and school is about to start back up. i promise i’m not quitting writing, but my writing might become a bit more sporadic in terms of my posting schedule. i’m still not sure if i like how i’ve executed this piece, so please let me know what you think!

IMPORTANT A/N: this contains serious topics centered around pregnancy and abortion. reader end up blaming herself and it is a very triggering subject to some. if you aren’t comfortable with those kinds of depressive thoughts PLEASE DONT READ. i don’t want anyone to be triggered by my writing. your mental health matters. you matter. do not read if your sensitive to the subject matter, please!

———————————————————————

when you and spencer checked the third pregnancy test and saw those two, very clear lines on the stick, you felt an unbelievable amount of joy.

“oh my god,” you clamped your hand over your mouth, your eyes welling with tears.

“y/n…” he held his breath, holding your free hand with both of his own.

“you’re gonna be a dad,” you huffed out a laugh as his arms flew around you.

“and you’re gonna be a mom! we’re gonna have our own little family,” he cheered as he breathed in your scent, elated from the news he had hoped for since you said ‘i do.’

spencer had wanted to be a father since he met henry, you remember how attached he was to the child who wasn’t even his own. you hadn’t always wanted children, only when you were absolutely ready for them. now, you were more than ready.

your arms flew around spencer’s neck as his went around your waist. he dropped to his knees and began pressing kisses against a bump that wasn’t even visible yet, praising you and your body for carrying his child.

because it was so hard for you to get pregnant, spencer decided to baby you every chance he got. you didn’t do the dishes or sweep, you weren’t allowed to reach for high shelves or even step on a chair to do so. he was worried about you and the baby, so you let him. you found it endearing.

the perfect man that you married was so worried about the little bean inside of you, worried for your safety, that it drove him a bit mad. who were you to complain? each time he’d do one of the new little quirks like not letting you lift anything above 10 pounds, you just smiled to yourself and brushed it off.

being pregnant was something that you had lost hope for, in all honesty. spencer had been talking to a few friends who had adopted children prior to finding out you were pregnant. if this hadn’t worked out, the two of you were going to look into adoption.

spencer had planned your doctors appointment for 6 weeks after your last period. the appointment was in three days. and then the perfect outline you had for your future went down in crumbles.

you had been having pains in your lower abdomen, and you figured it was just because you were pregnant. you went to the bathroom like you normally would when you felt queasy, kneeling by the toilet in preparation for what was to come. only nothing came.

you decided to just go pee and get back to bed. there was a pain that wasn’t like you’d felt before when you were peeing, like someone had been pulling your intestines out of your body. when you looked down, you felt your stomach drop.

“spencer!” you cried out. “spencer, hurry!” you felt tears well in your eyes until he ran up beside you. his hand was on your thigh as the other one was trying to steady your shaking hand.

“what is… oh,” he looked in the toilet to see blood inside of it.

“spencer… what happened? i don’t know what happened. everything was doing so well and the baby-we just found out and now they’re-wh-what’s gonna happen?” you rambled out, unsure of how something this horrific happened so quickly.

“i-i don’t know, my love,” he pressed a kiss to your forehead. “i don’t know. but we’ll go to the hospital right now, okay? we’ll get answers.”

you just nodded. you couldn’t speak anymore. you felt your throat closing in on yourself. you cleaned yourself up and got dressed. even looking in the mirror with spencer’s arms around you, you didn’t feel anything but guilt and worry.

spencer’s touch would usually be something to ease your mind and take away the thoughts of everything else around you. only this was something wrong inside of you. you were the problem this time. and you didn’t think anything could fix this feeling.

“let’s get to the hospital, yea?” you nodded as he held onto your hand, trying to ground you to himself as he guided you to the car.

you were silent the entire drive to the doctor. there was nothing to say. there was nothing to do. there was just… nothing. you were numb.

“hey,” he spoke up, “we don’t know what happened yet. there’s a chance it’s just a fluke, right? the baby might be okay.”

“what’re the statistics, spencer? tell them to me,” you ordered as tears flowed from your eyes.

“y/n…”

“tell me! why don’t you want me to know?!” you accused him, looking over at the man driving as he but his lower lip. “1 in 4 women who experience bleeding during a pregnancy are fine. 25 percent. the other 75 percent of people have either a miscarriage or serious complications. those are the statistics.”

“y/n…” he sighed, “it’s not your fault. you didn’t want this to happen. besides, there’s still a 25 percent chance that nothings wrong.”

“whatever,” you rolled your eyes and opted to look out of the window for the remainder of the drive to the hospital.

“alright,” the doctor entered the room. “we have the results from the test and we’ve examined the ultrasound pictures. i’m so sorry, but you’ve had a miscarriage.”

what were you supposed to feel? an overwhelming sense of sorrow? like a failure? like the one thing you wanted most in the world fell through?

“how-how did this happen?” you spoke through the tears. “we were so-we were careful. i didn’t lift heavy objects, i didn’t do repetitive motions, i just… we tried so hard to make this work,” you shook your head in disapproval, as if you wouldn’t accept the answer that had already been proven to you.

“there’s proof of an abortion when you were a teenager. there was severe damage done to your cervix that wasn’t assessed pre-pregnancy. now, we can repair the damage within the next two months, but it will still be difficult to become pregnant after the surgery,” the female informed you.

“then what’s the point of getting the surgery?” you scoffed, looking at spencer who was just staring off in space.

“while getting pregnant will still be difficult, maintaining the pregnancy is much more likely. the fetus would be more protected and secure after the surgery,” she explained with a pitiful smile, you couldn’t help but wonder how she could smile after giving you the worst news of your life.

“right,” you nodded curtly, allowing her to sense the mood of the conversation.

“i’ll leave you two be. i’m so sorry for your loss,” she gave the both of you a pitiful smile before exiting the room, the only sound audible being the closing of the door.

it didn’t feel real. it felt as though you were in a nightmare. only this time, you wouldn’t wake in spencer’s comforting arms. you wouldn’t hear the soft soothing voice of the man you love trying to calm you down. you wouldn’t feel the solace he would provide by merely being himself in your proximity.

the drive home was eerily quiet. there was an inkling of animosity between you. looking over at spencer in the driver’s seat, he had a dead look on his face, the only sign of previous emotion being his red-rimmed eyes and tear-stained cheeks. he didn’t even look like your spencer. he looked like a stranger in the drivers seat with a cold expression that you could barely read.

you knew this was something you should talk about. when the nurse came back in the room it was only to offer a few referrals go therapists that specialized in this kind of grief. clearly, any couple should talk about losing an unborn baby. but you knew that’s not what spencer was truly upset about.

you waited until you shut the door to your apartment before saying anything.

“maybe we should talk about it?” you whispered, not knowing how he’d react.

“about what? the fact that you’ve lied to me for our entire relationship?!” he wouldn’t even turn around to face you. “i thought we were in this together, y/n. we aren’t supposed to keep secrets from each other - especially not any that just killed our child!”

“hey…” you winced at his words. “why would you say that?”

“that’s the truth! your choices when you were a teenager just killed our child! my child!” he finally turned to face you, and you wished he hadn’t.

“do you think i knew they would botch my abortion, spencer?! do you think that’s what i wanted?!” you stepped closer to him, he sighed and ran a hand through his hair.

“i don’t know what you want anymore, y/n,” he shook his head, clearly exasperated.

“i want you. i want to get the surgery to fix my cervix. i want to grieve our child. i still want kids… with you, spencer,” you tried to ease the mood, calm him down. you reached your hand out to cup his cheek before he dodged your touch, afraid of touching you. “but you don’t want that?” you whispered so quiet, too afraid of the answer to raise your voice.

“i-“ he sighed and bit his lower lip. “i don’t know.”

“right. of course you don’t,” you shook your head before sitting on the couch, dropping your face in your hands.

“what’s that supposed to mean?” he scoffed as he took off his coat.

“it means that: of course, you’re making this about you! it can’t be about us grieving our loss together like the doctor recommended?!” you peeked between your hands at the man you still didn’t recognize.

“maybe we shouldn’t grieve together since we can’t even have a conversation without getting angry at one another,” he tried to reason.

“the only reason i’m getting mad is because you’re blaming me for my baby’s death,” you spat back at the doctor before you.

“because it’s your fault!” he stood strong in his belief. “when you were a teenager, did you or did you not have an abortion?”

“i did,” you admitted.

“and the nurse said that in said abortion, they screwed your cervix up! if you didn’t have that abortion, our child would still be alive! we would be on our way to become happy parents!” he accused, rubbing salt in the already stinging wound. “it’s your fucking fault!”

“stop saying that,” you shook your head and dropped it back in your hands, trying to hide the tears that began to flow down your face.

“it is, y/n! i can’t believe you’re even trying to say this isn’t!” he chuckled, clearly getting under your skin.

“shut up, spencer!”

“i can’t, y/n!” he sat in the chair across from you before standing back up, too hyper to sit. “no wonder it was so hard for you to get pregnant.”

“spencer,” you begged him to stop, meeting his face with your teary eyes.

“y/n,” he stared you in the eyes, and you saw a glimpse of the man you loved for a second before he retreated to the bedroom.

you sat on the couch in confusion of what had just occurred.

when you were 15, you’re boyfriend was adamant about taking your relationship “to the next step.” you didn’t think you were ready to have sex, but you wanted him to stay with you. so, you gave in. it just so happened to be that you were one of the lucky girls that ends up getting pregnant her first time in spite of birth control and a condom. you couldn’t tell your mom about your pregnancy, she’d have your head on a pole.

so, you earned enough money from your job to get an abortion yourself. you went to a clinic and had your boyfriend’s mom come with you to sign as your guardian. was it smart to get an abortion that cheap? probably not. but you had no other choice. your mom had made it abundantly clear that if she caught you fooling around with him that she’d kick you out.

you were 15. you were young and still had to finish high school. there was no support system for you. you would’ve been on the streets with a little baby - not to mention the amount of debt you’d go into for just giving birth to a child in a hospital. it was the only choice.

and now you were being berated for making the only choice you even had - and by the person you loved most in the world.

you curled into yourself on the couch, laying your head on the arm and crying into the fabric. you released all of the tension and turmoil. you held onto the cushions as if it were the man that you wanted - no, needed to comfort you. because as much as you’d hate to admit it and try to fight those thoughts, part of you thought that spencer was right. it was your fault.

you fell asleep on the couch that night. you didn’t have the strength to get up to grab a blanket so you just sucked it up.

spencer didn’t sleep at all. he was used to having you curled into his chest, or himself on yours. he felt terrible about how he had talked to you, but he was too stubborn to admit anything just yet.

in the middle of the night he went out of the room to grab a glass of water. he saw you curled up in a ball, you head resting on the arm of the couch as you slept. it was the most peaceful you looked in the past 24 hours. but you began shivering as you slept. you were probably too exhausted to get up to do anything.

he went to the hall closet on a detour and grabbed your favorite, soft blanket and laid it on top of your body. after placing a soft kiss on your forehead, he went into the kitchen and made his glass of water before taking one more glance at you. you had snuggled into the blanket, pulling it up to your chin with a gentle smile that always appeared when he kissed your forehead as you slept.

maybe he didn’t screw up too badly, after all.

the next few days were spent avoiding one another. spencer couldn’t face you after knowing you had kept something so dire from him for the entirety of your relationship. you couldn’t face him after he made you feel as though it was your fault you lost your baby.

you would stay on the couch all day, barely eating or drinking anything while spencer would go out - only mentioning the library or the office to do more paperwork. eventually he just started sleeping at morgan’s house - probably because he couldn’t stand being around you.

you didn’t know how to grieve your baby, you were hoping that spencer might help, but that clearly won’t be happening. on top of that, you were worrying about your marriage. he couldn’t even look at you, how was he supposed to talk to you and sleep beside you?

a lot of times, it’s perceived that the only reason women were put on this planet were to have children - of course that’s a false notion, but it didn’t make it sting any less. your body had betrayed you. you had betrayed yourself.

it was only 12 days after spencer left when he came back home, if he could call it that anymore. once he walked into the living room, he saw you curled up in that same position on the couch. you had a blank stare that was directed towards the black tv. the only evidence that you were doing something was the empty water bottles surrounding you - certainly not enough considering he’d been gone for over a week.

when he entered you didn’t even flinch. your gaze stayed on the empty screen and your face remained vacant of any emotion.

in all honesty, morgan was the one to tell spencer he should check on you. spencer hadn’t told him everything about your argument, he knew he was in the wrong. but he was just so angry. regardless, he was here now, and it’s a good thing he was.

you hadn’t been taking care of yourself. spencer had morgan and savannah checking on him, but you had nobody. he only realized this when morgan pointed it out. and as upset as he was, spencer would always love you. your expressionless face only worried him more. your clothes had been changed from when he last saw you, but he doubts you’ve had a shower.

he stayed silent as he began picking up the empty water bottles from around the table and couch. you looked at him quizzically with furrowed brows.

“what’re you doing?” you asked, your chin already quivering as tears threatened to stream down your face.

“i’m trying to help,” he whispered as sensitively as he could, making eye contact with the most pitiful face you’d ever seen.

“i think you’ve helped enough,” you rolled your eyes before resuming your serious stare-down with the television. “you can leave.”

“no, i can’t,” he replied, sitting down on the opposite end of the couch while being sure not to touch you - he didn’t know if you were ready for that.

“you already did,” you brought to his attention, briefly looking at him. “just go.”

“y/n, i-“

“i don’t want to hear it! what’re you gonna say that could make me feel worse, spencer?!” you let the tears fall past your waterline. “i know it’s my fault. i know i screwed up! and i’m sorry! i’m so sorry!” you replied with far too much sincerity, the tears streaming down your face before he scooted closer to you, planning on wrapping his arms around you. “stop! don’t come near me!” you pushed his shoulders away. “it’s my fault,” you lowered your voice significantly before wrapping your arms around yourself.

he had called emily as soon as he got back into the bedroom. he knew she had previously had an abortion when she was a teenager, and he just needed to hear her side of it. part of him didn’t even expect her to pick up the phone.

“reid, what’s wrong?” she immediately answered.

“i-i think i need to talk to you,” he whispered in a hushed tone.

“right now?” she asked in a mildly concerned tone.

“if you can? the sooner the better,” he answered honestly.

“alright. you want to meet somewhere or just come over?”

“can i just come over? it’s really personal and i wasn’t sure who else to go to,” he began tying his shoes and hoping she’d agree.

“of course, come on over,” she replied in a worried voice.

“ok. i’ll be there in twenty.”

he quietly left the apartment, not before sparing you a regretful glance. he lost his child, but you also lost your child as well. he just couldn’t control his anger. and partially, he thought he was right.

how could you not have told him about something so serious? the second you had began having issues getting pregnant, maybe you should’ve been open about previous pregnancies.

“hey,” emily greeted before giving him a hug after seeing his teary eyes. “come inside.”

“thanks,” he sniffled before stepping into her apartment.

she guided him into her living room and sat down on the couch beside him. they sat there for a few silent minutes before he was able to work up enough courage.

“y/n was pregnant,” he whispered, barely audible if she weren’t right beside him.

“was,” she pointed out, already feeling as though she knew the rest of the story.

“she uhm-she miscarried two weeks ago,” he somberly admitted for the first time to someone else. “the doctor said it was because she had an abortion when she was a teenager that somehow ruined her cervix.”

“and that’s why you felt like you needed to talk to me?” she gathered, she was a great profiler for a reason but this was far more obvious.

“i was pretty harsh. i-i told her it was her fault,” he bit his lower lip as he grimaced. “i really rubbed it in, too.”

“spencer… “ she sighed, taking a deep breath before continuing. “you’re mourning a life, right now. obviously, that would raise tensions and emotions would be heightened. but… have you apologized? for telling her it was her fault?”

“no?” he replied after thinking about it. “i was going to do that today but she’s… she’s not in good shape. i’m not saying she needs to be perfect, but while i was at derek’s i can tell she didn’t take care of herself. she barely drank any water.”

“did you ask her why she had an abortion? why she didn’t tell you? did you ask her anything about how she’s feeling?” emily asked once more.

“no,” he cowered down, feeling even worse about the truthful answer. “i was just… selfish. i didn’t think about how she’s feeling. i just-i feel so bad now, seeing what state she’s in.”

“when i got an abortion it was because i wasn’t ready for a child,” she began to inform him. “i was a child, myself. how was a child supposed to take care of another one? my mother would’ve been disgraced. i basically had nobody there for me. i kept it a secret because having an abortion is so controversial. i knew people would look at me differently for making a responsible decision for my future.”

“god, i feel so bad,” he began to tear up himself. “i love her so much and i told her these horrible things.”

“make it right, spencer,” she gave him a supportive smile and pat his thigh before he stood up.

“i-i have to go,” he wiped the tears from his face before giving emily a hug, grateful she would listen to him at such an ungodly hour.

he quickly drove back home, where he decidedly belonged in the first place. he never should’ve left home. he never should’ve left you. you were his home, and he didn’t know how he could possibly lose sight of that.

“y/n,” he cooed as he entered the apartment once more. it was noticeably a bit more clean. the trash was taken out, the dishes were done, and your hair was wet from a shower - he assumed. “hey,” he smiled when he saw you sitting on the bed, cheeks still red and tear-stained with red, puffy eyes.

“hi,” you sighed as you brushed your hair, spencer sat down beside you.

“how’re you feeling?” you shrugged. “i need to apologize to you,” he admitted, placing a hand on your thigh. “i’m so, so sorry for what i said. telling you that it’s your fault that we lost our child… i-there’s no excuse. i was clearly upset, but so were you. what i said was so out of line, and i’ll never be able to express how sorry i am to you.”

“you’re right,” you shrugged. “it was my fault.”

“no,” he rubbed his thumb on your skin. “it was not your fault. i’m so sorry i made you believe that.”

“when i was 15 my boyfriend at the time pressured me to have sex. we used a condom and i was in birth control but i still-i still ended up pregnant,” you began, taking a deep breath before continuing. “i couldn’t tell my mom because she would’ve kicked me out, so i saved up some money and had his mom take me to a cheap clinic. she signed as my mom and i got the procedure done. that was the end of it,” you finished tears streaming down your face. “a few weeks after the procedure i started having pains in like my lower back, but i didn’t think anything of it. so… it is my fault. i shouldn’t have gone to a cheap clinic, but i couldn’t live on the streets with a baby and no way to clothe or feed them.”

“y/n,” he got your attention, wiping the tears from your cheeks. “you were a teenager who had no other choice, love. it’s not your fault, it’s the clinic’s.”

“i just… it hurts so bad, spencer,” you shook your head in defeat before he wrapped his arms around you. “not even just emotionally, my body physically hurts so bad. i don’t know what to do and i thought i lost you and i didn’t know what i would do without you because i didn’t think you loved me anymore because it’s my fault,” you ranted out, sobbing into his shoulder before he moved the two of you around the bed to lay down, you on his chest.

“i’m so sorry you had to go through that, and that you’re still dealing with the repercussions,” he pressed a kiss to your forehead. “but know that i’m not leaving you. i love you and nothing will ever change that.”

“there’s nothing we can do now,” you whined, clutching to his shirt as if he’d disappear once more.

“we can go to the recommended therapy. we can get that surgery to fix your cervix,” he reminded you, rubbing circles onto your back as you sniffled. “then, if you’d like, we could try again for a baby.”

“so you still want to be with me?” you whispered by his ear, clearly worried of the answer.

“of course i do,” he said as if there were no other option; there wasn’t. “i’m so, so sorry, love.”

“the reason i didn’t tell you is because,” you sighed as you shuffled on top of spencer, now sitting on his lap and facing him. “because there’s this stigma that comes with having an abortion - and i didn’t know how you’d react. i also didn’t know it didn’t go well in the first place, but that’s a different story,” you chuckled. “i’m sorry. i should’ve told you about something so serious.”

“you don’t have to apologize,” he brushed a strand of hair from your face. “that was from your past. this is our future, we shouldn’t get caught up on it and allow it to ruin this.”

you nodded, “you’re right. are-are you staying here, now? or are you going back to derek’s?” there was an obvious look of hope in your eye that spencer never planned on squashing.

“i’m staying here,” he smiled. “home. you’re my home.”

“you’re so cheesy,” you rolled your eyes as a laugh left your lips.

“i’ve missed your smile,” he pressed a kiss to those very lips, your smile not going away but growing even bigger.

“i’ve missed you,” you pointed at his chest. “please don’t leave again.”

“i won’t. ever again,” you held your pinky out, he smiled and wrapped his own around it. “i’m so sorry.”

“we’ll work at it,” you sighed. “we’ll build back the trust and fix my stupid cervix and then maybe try again for a baby.”

over the next few months spencer and you had been going to therapy once a week, mourning the loss of your baby and working through your other issues.

five months after you found out about the miscarriage, you had the surgery to fix your cervix.

one year after you fixed your cervix you and spencer began talking about having a child. you were extremely nervous, rightfully so. you voiced your concerns to spencer about what if the surgery didn’t work? what if your cervix wasn’t the only issue? and he replied by reminding you that you would both take this one step at a time.

seven months after having the conversation with spencer about having children, a miracle had caught up to you.

you were pregnant.

taglist:

@averyhotchner

@greenprisca

@muffin-cup

@spenxerslut

@spencerreid9

@spencyreidpls

@spencerreid9

@spencersmagic

@calm-and-doctor

@the-local-pendeja

@spencersrose

@spencersmagic

@shemarmooresfedora

@pastelbabygirl19

if you’d like to be added to the taglist, please don’t hesitate to message me or leave a comment!

#tw pregnancy #tw miscarriage #tw abortion #tw abortion mention #tw depressive thoughts #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid #spencer #spencer reid angst #spencer reid comfort

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noteguk · 3 years

Text

white lies | teaser 1: you | jjk | m

[ ! ] this is one of two teasers for my upcoming fic (White Lies) which will be posted on July 5th. The second teaser, following Jungkook’s pov, will come out next Monday!

— contents and warnings (for the teaser); no major warnings for the teaser, kinda angsty but not really, athlete!jungkook x reader, college au, childhood best friends to lovers, idiots to lovers, mutual pining, heavy simping content, actually a good warning would be jk being all sweaty and shirtless

— words; 1,3k

The sun was a merciless god above you, sending its scorching waves down onto the open field, burning on your scalp and inducing the sweat that dripped down your neck. Even with your palm shielding your vision, you were still having a hard time following the movement of the ball amongst the players, a low buzzing sound in your ears muffling their excited exclamations. It wasn’t even summer, but it surely felt like it.

Maybe you were having a heat stroke, you thought, but quickly disregarded the idea. It wasn’t impossible, but you had just come out of a long hibernation period near the lockers, where a large shadow mingled with a cool breeze, relieving you of that free trial of Death Valley. Still, it wasn’t all good, and you certainly would’ve rather been inside an acclimatized environment with a bucket of ice cream than to be treated like a piece of meat in a barbecue. You would’ve left a long time ago if it wasn’t for him.

There was no excuse inside your head that didn’t sound like you were simping hard — because, even though it was a difficult pill to swallow, it was the truth. Yeah, maybe it was a nice gesture for you to stick around until Jungkook got his much-deserved break, maybe it was super nice of you to make sure his water bottle was freezing cold for when the time came. There was no reason he couldn’t do that by himself, though, and he had the rest of his teammates to spend his break with. You were just simping. And acting like a complete clown because of it.

Two sharp whistles interrupted their practice, their coach signaling that it was time for a break. You breathed out in alleviation for exactly two seconds before you saw Jungkook jogging in your direction, and then your nervousness picked right back up.

It was so unfair how dazzlingly handsome he looked that you wanted to go up to heaven and have a very heated argument with whoever thought it was a good idea to send that level of perfection down to Earth. He even looked like those scenes in Shrek in which Prince Charming is moving in slow motion, his luscious hair to the wind and a striking smile on his face — okay, maybe you were having a heat stroke.

“What’s up?” He asked, a little out of breath, as he reached you. At some point amongst your catastrophe of horny thoughts, you had reached for his bottle, and were now handing it to him. “Thanks. You look sweaty.”

You scoffed. “If I'm sweaty, I don’t know what makes you.”

Jungkook squeezed the bottle, sending a squirt of water directly into his open mouth. Did you stare at his jawline and the muscles on his neck for a little too long? Absolutely. But he didn’t have to know that. “Yeah, fair enough.” He brushed the back of his hand against his mouth. “Coach went insane today— Did you bring something to eat?”

You nodded, reaching for your backpack. The bench next to you was covered with your scattered notes, most of which you didn’t even have the attention span to go through. Midterms suck hard enough as it is, but you just had to make it worse by accompanying Jungkook during his practice. “Yeah, I noticed that,” you mumbled, miraculously finding a couple protein bars in your backpack — who were you kidding? You had put them there because of him. “Any reason for it?”

Jungkook shrugged, taking one of the bars. He looked out to the field as his hands worked on unwrapping it, a deep frown covering his face. He looked so gorgeous with his dark, sweaty hair pushed back that you almost didn’t compute his following words. “My fault, probably. Left early last time.” He shoved the bar inside his mouth before he could speak any further, his sparkling eyes growing wide at the taste. “Hm! This is great, by the way.”

Uneasy, you shifted around on your seat. From the corners of your eyes, you could see the silhouettes of his teammates walking around the field, looking like ghosts. You wondered if Jungkook didn’t prefer talking to them instead. “Wait, you said that you all got sent home early,” you said.

Jungkook chuckled like a nervous kid. “Hm, yeah. Kind of,” he admitted, unable to meet your gaze. “Didn’t want to make you mad. Besides, it was much more fun hanging out with you.”

Through the years, you had become a pro at pretending that his random praises didn’t get to you — mostly through minor bursts of frustration. “You’re such an idiot, you could’ve just waited another hour.” You slapped his shoulder lightly, which only made him laugh harder. “Do you know if it’s going to take long today? I kinda have a test on Friday and it’s hard to review out here. You know, for that class I’m basically failing already.”

He shrugged. “No idea. You can leave if you want.” Jungkook returned the water bottle to you, along with the bar he didn’t eat. “I have a date later so I’ll have to rush home, anyways. You can take a break at being my personal cheerleader for the day.”

That was the moment that you wished that he had stabbed you in the chest instead, considering he had caused much more damage with his casual words alone. It wasn’t the first (nor the last) date that Jungkook had, but they all felt like it; they all surprised and hurt you all the same. Maybe it was your own fault for building up some hopeful expectations that, deep down, your feelings were mutual. Maybe it was time to snap out of that alternate reality you had created in the name of your own comfort, and search for someone else.

“Who are you going out with?” Your voice was normal, controlled, not at all equivalent to the shattering of your heart.

Problem was: there wasn't someone else.

Jungkook rubbed the back of his head, oscillating his stare away from yours. “You don’t know her, and I—”

Two sharp whistles (which now sounded so merciful) interrupted his excuses. Jungkook took a dumbfounded glimpse at his teammates, soon meeting the pissed off look in his coach’s face.

“Already? Fuck,” he complained, hand grabbing his shirt and using it to dry the sweat on his forehead. If your heart weren’t in shambles, you probably would’ve enjoyed the view of his abs in full display for three glorious seconds, before his team shirt fell back into place. “I think you should go home and rest, ___.” Jungkook started to jog away, raising his voice so you could hear it. “I’ll text you about how it went later, alright? And don’t get a heat stroke!”

“Okay,” your voice was a soft little thing, and you knew he hadn’t heard it. Jungkook was already halfway across the field, his back turned to you and the large number ten bouncing on his back. “Have fun.”

You took a deep breath, hands working to put your notes on a neat pile. The smell of fresh grass was intoxicating, making you a bit dizzy as you got up to your feet. You let his water bottle in the corner of the bleachers, where there was a small shadow, and went home.

#bts fic #jungkook fic #bts x you #bts x reader #reader insert #jungkook x you #jungkook x reader #smut #fluff #angst #bts smut #Jungkook smut

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obeyme-kaidii-writes · 3 years

Text

Period Comfort

All Brothers x gn!MC

NOTE - obviously this story is about people with uteruses. But it’s still gender neutral because more than just females have them. This is based on my personal experience with my horrible periods. Some people may feel differently and that’s ok too. 👍🏻

Format - Headcanons / Scenarios

Words - 1895

Content warnings - talk of periods, but other than that just lots of fluff and cuddles

Prompt/Inspiration - self-indulgent comfort piece, (aka I’m on my period and feeling grumpy)

Summary - You’re looking forward to your date this weekend with your favorite demon when the unthinkable happens - your period starts. The boys drop by to check on you.

AO3

Scene -

Things had been going so well. The sun (well, the moon) was shining, the birds (crows) were singing (squawking). It was a lovely day in the Devildom. Who cares if you had been a little emotional the past couple of days? You didn’t. You had plans for this weekend with your favorite demon and you were not about to let anything get you down.

That’s when you felt it. It must be my stomach, you thought, so you ignored it. Then you felt it again. Is it a cramp? Nah can’t be a cramp, you argued with yourself.

And then you realized what you were doing - it’s the same thing you do every time your cycle rolls around: you try to convince yourself that your accursed uterus wasn’t deciding to shed it’s lining at the most inconvenient time. And you knew from experience, anytime you had that conversation with yourself that that is exactly what was going on, and only disaster awaited you if you continued to ignore your own intuition.

So you dragged yourself to your bathroom, inserted/applied the period product of choice, and popped a couple ibuprofen as a preventative measure, before crawling into bed. It occurred to you then that you should probably message the other residents of the House of Lamentation to inform them they were not to disturb you for a week or there would be...consequences. But before you could even turn on your DDD, there was a knock on your door and in walked….

Lucifer

You were relieved to see it was Lucifer, you knew he wouldn’t pester you.

He had come to check on you, and remind you of your upcoming date

Was immediately concerned when he saw you glaring out from under your bundle of blankets

He asks if you’re feeling ok, and you explain about your situation

He’s not all that familiar with human anatomy, but this isn’t the first time you basically went into hibernation mode

It occurs to him you’ll probably not be feeling up to your date, so he says you can reschedule when you’re feeling better.

Offers to bring you anything you might need, and promises to keep his brothers away so you can rest

Kisses you on the forehead before leaving, but you pull him back for a real kiss. He smirks at you because he knew that’s how you’d react.

No one else comes to your door for the rest of your cycle (except Lucifer when he brings your meals)

Lucifer had to string Mammon up a few times when he caught him trying to sneak into your room

Mammon

You love your precious idiot to bits, but he’s a little clueless sometimes. Like now when he didn’t immediately realize the death glare you shot him when he came into your room unannounced and started talking to you about your weekend plans

Finally stops to see why you aren’t responding and notices the look you’re giving him from under your blankets. His blood runs cold and he starts to panic internally...did he do something? Did he say something?

You have mercy on the poor boy and call him over, he sits on the bed next to you and holds your free hand while you explain what’s wrong

You tell him that you’ll need to reschedule your date, and he’s a bit disappointed at that, but he reassures you it’s fine

Huge sigh of relief from him when he realizes he didn’t screw anything up. Immediately switches gears to wanting to know what he can do for you.

You let him know you really just want quiet and to sleep, and he asks if he could stay, cue the biggest puppy dog eyes 🥺

You tell him he can, but he has to promise to sit still and not to talk. He swears that he can manage that.

To your great surprise, he does. He distracts himself by browsing Akuzon, and you cuddle up next to him for a nice, cozy nap, with him occasionally pressing kisses to the top of your head

Leviathan

Unlike Mammon, he notices you glaring at him immediately and freezes. He knew he shouldn’t have come. You might have been a couple but of course you wouldn’t want him around all the time, right?

Once you realize it’s Levi, you relax a little and smile at him. He’s still nervous so reach out your hand to him until he comes over.

He stands next to your bed holding your hand while you explain to him what’s going on

He really doesn’t know what he’s supposed to do here. Do you want to be left alone? Should he stay? It’s not contagious is it? You aren’t going to die right?!

You reassure your poor panicking otaku that you aren’t dying, it’s not contagious, and that you really just want to rest.

That’s when he realizes that you probably won’t want to go on the date y’all had planned and he’s really disappointed, he can’t even hide it

You kiss the back of his hand, making him blush, and promise you’ll make it up to him

Feeling a little better, he asks if you want to watch an anime or something with him instead and you agree.

He sits next to you in bed with your head in his lap while you cuddle up to his legs.

He gets so engrossed in the show he doesn’t even notice when you fall asleep until the episode is done. He doesn’t want to wake you, so decides he’s just going to be stuck like that forever and picks out one of his favorites series to binge watch instead.

Satan

He raises an eyebrow at you when he sees the look you’re giving him

He notices the bottle of ibuprofen next to your bed and quickly pieces together what must be going on

He does have a basic understanding of human anatomy, but the nuances like your food cravings and self comfort measures are unknown to him

He catches on pretty fast once you explain it though, he may make a couple odd suggestions that he read about once or twice

You let him know that you won’t be able to go on your date that weekend, and he is only concerned with comforting you

Gives you a sweet kiss to your forehead before asking if you need anything, which he’ll fetch immediately

You ask him if he’ll stay with you, just so you can have him close and of course he agrees. He heads back to his room to grab a couple of books for himself, and one for you too, just in case you feel up to reading.

By the time he returns, you’ve already fallen asleep. He’ll make sure you’re tucked in and comfy, giving you another forehead kiss or two.

Takes a seat in the large lounge chair in your room and quietly reads until it’s time for dinner

Asmodeus

He’s the kinda guy that has been tracking your cycle for you. He just can’t help it.

So when he opens the door, he already has some of your favorite snacks and a heating pad in his arms

You’re really relieved to see him. If there is one thing Asmo knows how to do, it’s pamper you! (Besides his other talents of course)

He makes sure the snacks are within easy reach of your bed, and sets up the heating pad for you so you can cuddle with it when needed

Tells you right away that you don’t need to worry about the date, he’s already had it rescheduled.

Asks you if there is anything he can do for you, and you ask if he can just cuddle with you

He’s happy to agree, and crawls into bed alongside you, with you resting your head on his chest.

If you’re feeling up to it, he’ll even brush and braid/style your hair. But if you don’t feel like being touched he’ll just gently hold you in his arms

While you’re sleeping, he does manage to sneak in a few cute selfies snuggling with you. He’ll send you the best ones...once your period is over and he knows you'll no longer be mad about it 🙃

Beelzebub

He is really confused when he walks in and sees how grumpy you look. It kinda reminds him of how Belphie looks when his naps get interrupted so he doesn’t take it personally.

You smile at him once you realize it’s Beel and not anyone else

He comes and sits on the bed next to you, brushing your hair out of your face so he can get a better look at you

You explain why you aren’t feeling well, and he immediately grows concerned. It takes a lot of convincing to assure him that you’ll be fine in just a few days

Realizes that your date will need to be rescheduled and tells you not to worry about it. He just wants you to feel better soon.

When you mention that you have some favorite foods that you crave during this time of month, he is all too happy to fetch them for you

Like seriously - he gets Beel-sized quantities for you, and you’ll probably get sick of whatever it is by the time your period is over, so be sure to ask him to share otherwise you won’t finish it all in your own

He asks if you feel up to cuddling or if you’d rather be left alone (he really doesn’t want to leave you alone though)

If you agree to cuddles, he’ll wrap you up in his arms, holding you securely. It’ll be so nice and warm and comforting you’ll fall asleep really quickly. He won’t be far behind you either.

Belphegor

Doesn’t hesitate to ask you who peed in your Cheerios

You have to laugh at that, and then explain how you’re feeling and why

He realizes right away you won’t be able to go on your date, but won’t say anything about it unless you bring it up. He doesn’t want you to feel pressured.

He also gets a little nervous at first about your health and safety, so expect to need to explain to him that it’s a normal part of human life

He’s still going to be feeling really protective of you though, and will make sure under no circumstances that his brothers bother you. Beel can come visit because he gives good cuddles, but that’s it.

When you mention that you really just want to sleep, his face lights up. Naps are only his favorite thing in the world to do with you, so he’s happy to be able to comfort you this way

You’ll lay on your side and he’ll spoon you from behind. He’ll even give you his cow pillow to snuggle as he holds you. It smells just like him, which you find very relaxing.

For once, he doesn’t fall asleep until he’s sure you’re asleep. Then he’ll give you plenty of gentle kisses to your neck and shoulders before cuddling up to you and falling asleep himself.

His arms will stay wrapped around you the whole time, making sure you stay warm and comfortable.

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retrievablememories · 3 years

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U.N.I. | doyoung (m)

title: college love pairing: doyoung x black!reader genre: fluff, smut, college!au request: There’s suddenly a foreigner in his class (University of course). He teases her and always seems to stick to her side. The kick is, is that she finds out he likes her by eavesdropping [I wanted to give you room to flex that brain of yours bc your writing is like magic] word count: 6.3k warnings: emetophobia warning, alcohol use, sub!doyoung, handjob, oral (female receiving...and a little bit male receiving?), thigh riding a/n: shout out to anon for the new title idea cuz i be struggling lmaoo

Doyoung is curious.

You are new to his class, having joined a couple weeks after the semester had already begun. You’re certainly not the first foreigner he’s seen, considering that the university is an international school that sees a wealth of students from other countries every year.

But still. He’s curious.

You both sit in the same row, with you a few seats down from him. That makes it harder for him to sneak glances over at you without being too obvious or receiving weird looks from the other students who think he’s staring at them. Mostly, he contents himself with hearing your voice when you answer questions or occasionally talk to your other classmates.

Doyoung tries to think about how he might also get to talk to you without seeming weird or too random, which makes him feel even sillier because he usually doesn’t have this much anxiety over talking to new people. However, he doesn’t have to ponder over it for much longer when the professor decides to split each row into groups for an in-class assignment.

You and him and three other people from your row gather together in a circle, and there are a few awkward introductions—as is the norm with classmates who haven’t truly interacted with each other before.

“I’m Y/N,” you introduce yourself, glancing at the others sitting across from you.

They nod in acknowledgement, and Doyoung responds with, “It’s nice to meet you.” He makes sure to give his best welcoming smile, which you return.

Despite all five of you being in the same group, it soon becomes apparent that Doyoung is the best ally to have on your team. The other three students couldn’t be less motivated about the assignment if they tried, mostly gleaning answers off the two of you.

By the time the period ends, you are more than ready to get the hell out and go to your next class. You can only roll your eyes at knowing they’ll get credit for work they barely even helped with. However, your bad mood is momentarily interrupted by your only other partner who bothered to help—Doyoung.

“Thanks for that,” he says as you pass by his desk. You stop and turn around, raising your eyebrows. “You know, for...that.” Doyoung shoots an icy look towards the other people in your row. Only one of them meets his eyes, though they pointedly try to pretend like they never saw him as they gather their things and leave.

You watch the awkward exchange and can’t help but laugh. “Oh yeah, no problem. It’s nice to have someone who actually cares enough to help.”

Doyoung instantly thinks your laugh is pretty, and he decides he wants to hear more of it.

“You know, if you ever want to work together again, I’m here,” he suggests. “I mean...you’re new here, right? So if you need any help with anything...just ask.”

You smile, grateful for the offer. “Oh really? That’s nice of you. I might just have to take you up on it...because I really don’t know a soul here.” You check your phone. “Shit, I should be getting to my next class. See you later. Thanks again!”

Doyoung waves as you leave the classroom, wanting to say more but knowing you’re busy, and he hopes that you really do consider his offer.

The next class doesn’t involve groups this time, much to your relief—and Doyoung’s as well. Doyoung still finds a way to talk to you without having to do group work, though; and the best part about it is that he doesn’t even have to do anything.

“Hey Doyoung,” you say, coming to stand by his desk at the end of class. He perks up in his seat at your presence, giving you an amiable smile.

“Hey Y/N, how are you?”

“I’m fine, though I do feel a little lost at the moment.”

Doyoung’s eyebrows draw together. “What’s the matter?”

You laugh and shake your head, a little embarrassed to tell him. “Okay, like, I have a map of the campus and everything, but I keep getting lost trying to go to classes and it’s kind of annoying...plus I don’t need a bunch of tardies in my first month here.”

“Your professors still care about that kind of stuff?”

“Yep. Unfortunately, I didn’t get any of the cool ones who don’t give a fuck about someone coming in late—for a class I’m paying for. Amazing.”

Doyoung smirks. “So you need a tour guide, is that it?”

You shrug. “If you’re up for it. I don’t wanna take up too much of your time, you know, if you’re busy. This campus is unnecessarily huge.”

Doyoung gathers his bag and stands to his feet. “Of course I can help the damsel in distress.”

“Damsel, huh?” You snort. “What’re you then, a knight in shining armor?”

“I can be if you want me to be.”

“You a comedian or something?” You give him a look between incredulity and amusement, a bit surprised at him being so brazen. “Let’s go then, brave knight. Help me find out where the Student Affairs office is before I completely lose my mind.”

Just as you asked, Doyoung leads you right to the Student Affairs office—and to a bunch of other places on campus, which you’re not entirely sure you’re going to remember. At least you have him to walk you through it until you memorize everything.

Finally, you both stop in a grassy area of campus with a few benches nearby, standing under the shade of a tree. Doyoung turns to you. “I’ve dragged you all over this campus now, so I guess the least I could do is buy you a coffee or something.”

“You did it because I asked! But...if you’re determined to pay, I won’t stop you.” You laugh.

“Do you remember where the coffee shop is?” Doyoung asks, like he’s a professor giving you a pop quiz. You sweat because you’ve already forgotten, and you screw your face up in mock concentration.

“Umm...that way?” You point in a random direction and he chuckles when it’s wrong. He grabs your arm and guides it to the right direction, which is behind you—right in the area you just came from.

“No, it’s here! Let’s go. We’re gonna need to spend some more time out here later.”

By the end of the day, you’re surprised by how comfortable you already feel around Doyoung despite only talking to him for the first time in your group assignment the other day. He appears to think the same of you, if him sliding you his number is any indication.

“I know we have a class together, but if you want to talk outside of that…you know where to reach me now.” He taps his fingers against the table you’re both sitting at. “I think you’ll definitely be needing another tour soon.”

“I tried my best.” You sigh dramatically, placing your chin in your hand. “But thanks. I’ve got your number now, so don’t feel a way if you see me bothering you more often.” You flash him a teasing grin.

Doyoung shakes his head goodnaturedly at your statement, taking another sip of his coffee. “Somehow, I don’t think I’ll mind.”

Though you do call on Doyoung to help you get around campus a few more times, he ends up hanging around you a lot more often outside the guise of being your personal tour guide.

Whether it’s to go to the library, visit a fast food place off campus, or even see some sports game, he’s never far away. During your first month of being at school, he’d simply explained it as wanting you to get familiar with the sights in and around campus so you wouldn’t get lost again. However, it quickly culminates in him randomly asking you to go places just because he can—and because he wants to.

You’re glad for his company—much more than you’d let him know, not wanting to come off as too clingy. Though Doyoung seems like the type to be all about his studies—which he mostly is, and it’s not a bad thing—he also knows how to have fun and how to make you laugh, even explaining jokes in Korean that go over your head.

He makes you feel remarkably less alone while adjusting to living in another country, far away from home. It also doesn’t take you long to find out that he’s good for teasing you to no end, which often makes you want to roll your eyes or flick him in the forehead, but even his banter reminds you of your friends back home. You’re incredibly grateful for that small piece of familiarity.

After a couple months of finally settling into the campus life, you, Doyoung, and a few of his friends decide to go to a frat house party, along with Seulgi—a girl you’re becoming close to in another one of your classes. You’re not entirely sure what to anticipate, but the experience is quite similar to what you’d expect to see back in your home country—the same drunk dancing, endless shots of alcohol, loud music, and men who are far too grabby for their own good.

Speaking of that last point…

You and Seulgi dance together amongst a flood of bodies, which is fun for a while until random men keep trying to drag you away from each other to dance with them instead; some of them are more agitated than others about being rejected.

“College guys are dangerously horny.” Seulgi laughs, though she also cuts her eyes at a small group of men nearby who’re giving you both ravenous looks.

“Kinda wish they’d go be horny somewhere else,” you say, and then you roll your eyes when yet another hand brushes against your waist. You turn to see who the culprit is this time, but it’s only Doyoung, and you’re palpably relieved to see him. “You’re back! Seems like you’d disappeared forever.”

“Yes, I am. Someone’s excited. Did you miss me that bad?” He smirks.

“Oh, please. I’m just happy you’re here so the creeps will go away.”

When you say this, his expression instantly morphs into one of recognizable concern. “Is someone bothering you two?”

“Not really, these dudes are just weirdly pushy.” Seulgi giggles, trying to wave it off. The last thing you all need is to start an argument or a full-out fight with one of these frat guys.

“Forreal. Therefore, you should act like you’re my boyfriend until the night is over.” You declare this unabashedly, linking your arm with Doyoung’s. For a second, he seems flustered at your suggestion, and then his face settles back into the same cool countenance as before.

“Fine, since you want to be next to me so much.” You elbow him at that. “That’s a good save for you, but what about Seulgi?” Doyoung asks, looking at the other girl. She is unbothered, though, and casually grabs his other arm.

“Poly relationship. Ever heard of it?” Now he really is flustered, and you laugh out loud at his expression.

You spend a good portion of the night like that, all three of you linked together as the perfect “throuple,” with some people at the party giving you interesting looks. When Johnny sees you all, he throws you and Doyoung an expression reminiscent of a grin—but somehow more devious—and Doyoung only twists his mouth up in a sneer. You don’t know what any of that interaction means, though it makes you wonder.

Seulgi eventually decides she prefers Johnny to be her fake boyfriend instead of Doyoung and goes off with him to do...whatever it is they went to do. You’re sure you can take a guess, though.

After the other two take their leave, you and Doyoung eventually end up on the back porch. It’s a little cooler out here than it is inside, though still a bit crowded with lingering couples and groups. You’re both bunched up in a small corner against the side of the house, leaning over the railing to look out at the backyard—which is mostly just trees and bushes.

“Well, how are you enjoying your first college party?” he asks, casting a questioning glance your way.

“It’s fun. I think I could see why some people end up spending all their time on this instead of studying, ha.”

“Hey, don’t become a party girl ‘cause I’m not gonna do all your homework for you.” Doyoung snickers.

“Oh, Doyoung. I wouldn’t expect you to, you’re not even good at science.”

He sucks his teeth and tucks his chin into his arms to hide the grin playing across his face. It’s quiet again for a little while, or as quiet as it can be with the others on the porch talking and laughing.

Doyoung peeks at you from underneath his fringe and thinks about what he should say next. Something like...not that, but…well, what if he did? Would it be terrible if he said it now, right here at a crowded frat party on some rickety back porch? Maybe, but…

Doyoung pushes himself off the railing and looks at you, tracing your profile with his eyes. Maybe the alcohol has taken more effect on him than he initially thought. “Y/N…” he starts, and you glance at him.

Just then, a red-faced dude who’s obviously incredibly smashed stumbles over to where you two are and promptly throws up on the floor. Some of it gets on Doyoung’s shoes, which causes him to jump back and curse loudly.

“Are you a fucking idiot?!”

“That’s disgusting,” you groan, turning your face away from the mess. You’d probably laugh if it weren’t so gross—and wasn’t right next to where you were standing. The guy doesn’t pay either of you much attention, though, because he’s too busy slumping against the railing like he’s going to pass out. Maybe somebody should worry about that, but it won’t be either of you.

“Ugh, for fuck’s sake...come on.” Doyoung takes your hand and carefully steers you around the mess, heading back indoors and maneuvering through the thick of the party. You’re not sure where he’s going at first until you both end up in some cramped bathroom, with him pulling his shoes off and running them under the tub faucet. You lean against the door, feeling like you need to stand guard so no drunken couples will burst in, even though it’s already locked. You’re not quite sure why he brought you along for this little ride, but you’re not complaining; it’s better than being left outside.

You look at him sitting on the edge of the tub and angrily wiping his shoes as best he can with toilet paper, and you giggle, though you try to keep it quiet. However, you can’t stop more giggles from pouring out at his comically pissed-off expression. Doyoung looks up at you with his eyebrows creased, a confused and irritated look coloring his features. “What’s so funny?”

You shake your head, unable to speak for a few moments. Doyoung tilts his head to the side and looks at you impatiently while you try to catch your breath, though his upset face only makes you want to laugh more. “I’m sorry, but from where I’m standing...th—this is pretty hilarious.” You burst out into laughter again. “I’m locked in a bathroom with you at a college party while you scrub vomit off your shoes. If this doesn’t make us friends for life, nothing will.”

To your surprise, he actually cracks a cynical grin after a few moments, shaking his head and sighing. His shoulders heave with the gesture. “I hate university sometimes.”

Doyoung tries not to think too deeply about that “friends for life” comment, though to his irritation, it stays in his head for days after the party. Even after he’s nearly forgotten about the shoe incident.

You go to the library one night to find an academic journal for an upcoming paper. You’re not happy about having to make the trek, especially in this digital era when everything imaginable is usually readily accessible online, but it is what it is.

At night, the library becomes more of a hangout spot rather than a place for studying, and you don’t entirely expect to get much reading done in there. You’re hoping there’s an empty room or something you can duck into to take some quick notes on the information you need.

Finding the journal takes a bit of searching, but you finally locate it on a shelf near the back of the library. You’re about to leave the aisle and find somewhere to read it when a couple of people walk into the aisle in front of yours. By their voices, you know it’s Doyoung and Johnny.

You decide to peek over and say hi, but before you can get to the end of the aisle, you hear their heated conversation. You stop in your tracks and listen, which you probably shouldn’t be doing; but you’re not sure if you want to interrupt this talk they’re having once you hear what they’re saying, either.

“You’re being ridiculous. Just tell her!” Johnny hisses under his breath like he wants to talk louder but doesn’t want to be too distracting in the library. Ever so courteous of him, but you doubt anyone else really cares at the moment.

“Hyung, not everybody is like you. It’s not easy to just go up to someone and say you like them.”

“You act as if you’re gonna be talking to a stranger. She knows you and you know her, you hang out all the time. It’s more likely that she does like you than she doesn’t.”

“...You really think that?”

“She lets you tell all your unfunny jokes without much complaint, so yeah, I’d say she must be head over heels for you.”

“Shut the hell up. Unfunny jokes? You’re one to talk!”

You listen to the conversation intently, wondering who this mystery girl Doyoung apparently likes could be. He’s never told you about having a crush on anyone, nor has he made it obvious that he likes someone else. Although you know he has other friends—Johnny’s obviously one of them—you’re not sure what girl he hangs out with all the time besides you.

Johnny chuckles. “Don’t be mad that Y/N laughs at my jokes more than yours.”

Your eyebrows raise at this. Wait. What does this conversation have to do with you? Unless.

“Yeah, you’re supposed to laugh at a clown,” Doyoung retorts.

“Whatever, Doyoung. You just do what I told you. It’s seriously so sad watching you pine over Y/N like there isn’t an easy solution for this.”

You’re reeling with shock by now, but their voices are also getting closer to the end of the aisle like they’re about to walk into the very one you’re hiding out in. You run away before they can spot you, though you do end up drawing a few peculiar glances from some other library goers.

You eventually find a quiet, uncrowded space to sit down and take notes in, though you can hardly concentrate on the work at hand with this new information in your mind. Doyoung likes you? Doyoung likes you. Then that must be why he always messes with you, and why he’s practically been glued to your side since you got there.

Your hand tightens and loosens around your pen repeatedly as you mull over this knowledge. The longer you think about it, though, a smirk grows on your face.

The week after, you and Doyoung have one of your regular study sessions together. You’ve dressed up for it more than you normally would—the same thing you’ve been doing throughout the week, too. Even if Doyoung doesn’t know what you know, you get a bit of fun out of dressing up to catch his eye. And it definitely works.

He always steals glances at you when he thinks you aren’t paying any attention, and you get infinite amusement out of whipping your head around to try to catch him in the act. The light blush on the tips of his ears and his startled bunny look is worth it every time.

“You got so dressed up just to study? You’ve really been going all out this week,” Doyoung comments as you sit down at your usual table in the library. He gives a small smirk as he scans your new outfit for today. He does this as if he’s only teasing and evaluating your clothes, puckering his lips in concentration, though it’s also an excuse to check you out.

“You could just say ‘you look so fucking fine this week, Y/N.’ I know you want to say it, anyway.” Doyoung’s cheeks flush a little, and he shakes his head.

“You’re something else. Okay, you look pretty. Does that satisfy you?”

“Well. You forgot the ‘fucking,’ but I’ll let it slide.”

You both get into your work and a calm quiet settles between you, punctuated with you occasionally asking each other questions about the assignment. At some point, you grow a little bored with staring at the text for so long, and you stop and simply look at Doyoung sitting across from you in one of his favorite hoodies and his glasses. Something tender rises in your chest, a sensation you hadn’t quite given a name to until now, and you put your cheek in your hand, grinning slightly.

“I wonder why someone like you doesn’t have a girlfriend yet.”

Doyoung looks up as if he’s not sure if you’re talking to him, then furrows his eyebrows. “Someone like me?”

“Aw, you know, you’re handsome and caring and smart, and you can even be a little bit funny—even though you get on my nerves sometimes.” Doyoung rolls his eyes at the last part, though you know he’s preening at your compliments.

“I don’t know, I’m busy with studies.”

“But isn’t there even one person you might like? Or might be interested in?” Doyoung’s not looking at you anymore, his eyes dropping back down to instead focus on his book, but you notice how his fingers tighten around the textbook’s edges.

“Um—well, I haven’t really thought about that…”

“Really? No one in your dorm or your classes has caught your eye?”

Doyoung shifts a little and clears his throat. He shakes his head in response to your question, though the movement is hesitant. “What about you?”

“Changing the subject, huh? Excellent method of evasion…” You flip a page in your notebook, pointedly avoiding Doyoung’s gaze even though he’s peering up at you again. You wait with your lips clamped together, trying not to laugh as his expression grows more impatient.

“Well?! Aren’t you going to answer, after forcing me to?”

“I will when you tell the truth.” You slap the notebook closed, which causes him to jump, and this time a laugh does slip out. Doyoung’s eyes dart around your small section of the library like there might be someone else listening, or like he’s searching for a prank camera.

“The truth about what? I already told you!”

“Then what about what you told Johnny?”

Doyoung freezes for a moment, and various emotions flit across his face. He finally settles firmly on embarrassment and disappointment. “...He told you? I’m going to kill him.” His voice is softer now, like he would disappear completely if he could.

“No, I—okay, don’t get mad at me, it’s not like I did it on purpose, but I heard you two talking in here a week ago…”

“Oh...shit. You—you were there? And you didn’t say anything?!”

“Yeah. Not very discreet, huh? Maybe you want to do that in your dorm room next time.” You’re still smiling. Doyoung shifts nervously again, as if he just wants to get up and run the hell out.

“So, um…you know, then.”

“Yep.”

“If you don’t like me, you can just say so,” Doyoung blurts out. “I...it’s fine. I don’t expect anything of you, so we can really just forget all about this. I promise I won’t make things weird, Y/N. I just...I just found myself really liking you as we got to know each other.”

“You can’t make things weird when you’re already weird.” You giggle and place your hand over Doyoung’s, grasping his fingers. “So...let’s date, then.”

He looks at you questioningly, surprise taking over. “Wait, you’re serious?”

“I’m serious.” And now you’re a little embarrassed yourself, but you continue, “Doyoung...I like you too. I guess I don’t totally hate all your teasing. But don’t get cocky about it.”

Doyoung rearranges your hands so your fingers are now laced together. A relieved smile makes a home on his lips. “Well, too late. Now you’re never going to hear the end of it.”

“Oh, I can’t wait.” Your response is sarcastic, but the smile on your face is totally genuine.

That weekend, Johnny leaves the dorm to go visit some of his other friends in town, which means Doyoung will have the room all to himself for those few days. Normally his plans would consist of studying, trying to catch up on sleep, or seeing what his other friends are up to, but with you as his new girlfriend, he wants to spend that time together.

“So, this is your dorm,” you say, holding Doyoung’s hand as he leads you into his shared dorm with Johnny.

“Home away from home, I guess,” he says, leading you over to his bed so you can sit down. Before he can let go of your hand, you tug him to you and gesture for him to bring his face closer to yours, like you’re going to whisper something to him.

“What is it?” he asks. He’s quickly silenced by you pushing your lips against his in a kiss. When you both separate, it’s reluctant, and Doyoung pecks your mouth once more before straightening up again. You laugh at the slightly goofy grin on his face.

“What should we do?” you ask, getting more comfortable on his bed and leaning against the wall.

“I had movies in mind, but we can do anything you want.”

“Movies are fine! Hurry and start it up, I’m gonna get cold without you beside me.”

Doyoung gives an overexaggerated cringe, and you hide your face. “And you complain about me being cheesy?!”

You both make it through two and a half movies before you start getting antsy with sitting in the same spot for so long. Doyoung is still lying calmly beside you, his arm around your shoulder and the other behind his head as he continues watching the movie. Deciding to act on a whim, you abandon all pretenses of watching any more of the movie and swing your legs over his own so you’re sitting in his lap. When you situate yourself in his lap, he seems a bit starstruck, as if he wasn’t expecting this to happen—like, ever.

“Y/N…” Doyoung’s voice is surprisingly soft, like the day you revealed your feelings for each other. It’s a noticeable departure from his usual demeanor. He blinks at you for a couple moments.

“What?” you say innocently, copying his actions and blinking back at him.

Doyoung swipes his tongue across his lips, though it’s more of a nervous gesture than anything else. “You’re...you know.”

You chuckle. “‘You know’? Let’s use our words.”

“You’re, uh...s-soft,” is what he stammers out, like it was the only thing he could think of at the last minute.

“And you should be hard, but you’re not yet. So let’s fix that. If you want to?” You quickly tack the last sentence on, trying to give him an out if he really doesn’t want this. However, the hands that suddenly go to your hips make you think otherwise.

“Do it, then.” He provokes you, trying to regain his usual confidence, though it still comes out less forceful than intended.

You bring your hand to his crotch and palm him over his pants, and Doyoung takes a deep breath. You bring your lips to his, kissing him deeply and adding to the pleasant feeling. He kisses you back eagerly, flexing his hands on your hips and gripping you more tightly. You end up making out like that for a little while, and he grows underneath your palm as you tease him.

Eventually, you want more than simply feeling him over his sweatpants and pull them down, exposing his bulge. You don’t touch him for real, not just yet; instead, you trace your finger along the shape of his dick underneath the material of his boxers. Doyoung whimpers against your lips at that touch, very quietly, but audible enough for you to hear it over the TV in the background.

“Don’t get all sensitive on me now.” You pull away from his mouth and laugh. “What happened to all that teasing you love to torture me with?” You drag his underwear down so you can release his member, which is still growing underneath your caresses. Precum is already beading at the tip, flushed with need. Doyoung looks down at your hand holding his dick and worries his lip as you begin stroking him earnestly now.

He leans his head back against the wall, and you watch his throat work as he swallows and tries to keep his sounds quiet. The soundproofing in these dorms certainly isn’t the best; the people on the other side of the wall have kept him awake enough nights to know that. The few moans he does let go are low and pretty and soft, and they fit him perfectly.

Though you are stroking him mostly for his own pleasure, you do take the time to explore his dick while you have it in your hand—running your finger over a vein that stands out against the hot skin, sliding his precum between your fingers and using it to get the rest of his shaft slick. You take your time with him, but he doesn’t seem to mind the leisurely pace.

“Do you wanna come in my hand?” you ask him, and his body tenses as you reach further down to tease his balls. Another bead of precum runs down his shaft.

“That would be a waste,” Doyoung huffs, and he shifts his leg a little so his thigh is tucked between your legs now, your heat pressing right down on him. He moves his thigh back and forth slowly across you, and you let out a long, shaky breath at the way the muscles of his leg flex and release against your clit.

“Then where do you wanna do it?” You still your movements on him for a few seconds but keep your thumb on his tip so you can tease the sensitive slit there, and another choked groan comes from him.

“T-take a guess,” he says, and pulls on your hips again so he can drag your pussy over his thigh more firmly. The friction makes you whine.

“Maybe I should just make you cum like this, since you seem more interested in making me ride your leg.” You go back to steadily stroking his cock, tightening your grip on him. His mouth drops open a little at your actions.

“Y/N,” he whispers breathlessly, and lifts one hand to pull at your sweater. “Take this off.”

“Then take yours off.” Doyoung strips his sweater off as soon as you say it and waits for you to do the same. His mouth goes to your breasts once they’re free. You grin at the pleasurable sensation and run your hand through his hair, pushing him closer to your chest. Your other hand goes back to his dick, and it twitches when you make contact. “I really think you could cum just like this, with you sucking my tits and me jerking you off. Wouldn’t you like that, Doie?”

Doyoung’s face flushes at that claim, though he doesn’t deny it. He simply keeps sucking at your nipples and leaving marks across your chest, flexing his thigh against you for added stimulation.

You want him to come first, so you spit in your hand for more lube and stroke him faster, the slick sound of your hand on his cock filling your ears. His moans are more frequent now, though he still tries to hide them; all the while, you try to pull more out of him. If the people next door know what’s going on, they’ll just have to enjoy the free entertainment.

“Y/N,” he pants against your skin, and his body tenses up more underneath you. You pull his head away from your chest so you can tuck your face into his neck, placing your lips over his beating pulse and feeling the way his muscles jump under the slight touch of your mouth.

“You don’t wanna come in my hand, right? Where do you want it, then?” You keep your lips close to his ear and slow your pace to make sure he doesn’t come too soon.

“I…um—”

“Don’t be shy now, you’re about to come, aren’t you?” You twist your hand over his tip and he groans low in his throat; the sound vibrates across your lips.

“I...in your mouth.”

You sit back to look at him, grinning devilishly. “So that’s what you like? Fine then, baby boy.” You remove yourself from his thigh, which is noticeably damp now, and position yourself between his legs with the tip of his cock pointed towards your mouth. You lean forward a bit to take the head between your lips, rubbing your tongue against the sensitive underside of it, and Doyoung comes quick with a soft cry. His cum floods over your tongue in thick, salty waves, and you keep sucking the tip until he has no more to give.

You get back onto the bed after you’ve swallowed everything, and before you know what’s happening, Doyoung has turned you on your stomach and is pulling your panties and sweatpants down in one fell swoop. “Doyoung—” Your sentence breaks when he lifts your hips up and his tongue parts your lower lips, sliding through the slickness and pushing into your hole. Your words melt into a moan as you arch your hips more to get closer to his face.

“Doyoung, y-yes, please—” You curl your fingers in the fabric of his comforter, panting harshly against the material as Doyoung dips his fingers and tongue into you like he’s starving. His tongue on your clit is maddening, circling back and forth and making your legs shake as you try to balance yourself in this position he’s tugged you into.

His fingers find what they’re looking for quickly and he teases your g-spot, thrusting into it only sometimes and leaving you wanting all the other times. In the very back of your mind, you wonder if what he said about being too studious for relationships is true, because how else would he have learned to do all this? God.

When you get close to coming, Doyoung takes some mercy on you and crooks his fingers into that soft spot more consistently now, and you cry out as you tighten around his fingers. It’s beautifully, wonderfully satisfying. The soft sounds he releases while he eats you out make you even weaker, as if he can’t hide just how turned on he is from tasting you.

Your climax hits you suddenly, and by the end of it you are laughing softly with the intoxication of how good you feel, how good he’s made you feel. When he finally pulls back from you, you let your body fully collapse against the small mattress, and Doyoung rests his head against your thigh momentarily, as if he himself is exhausted.

“I...wanted to do that for a while,” he says, and you can’t see his face but you think he must be blushing, with how sheepishly he admitted it.

It takes a bit of shuffling but you eventually end up lying side by side, stripped bare and looking up at the ceiling. The movie has long gone off, and there’s nothing but Netflix’s slideshow of new shows and movies playing on the screen now.

After a few more moments of nothing but the sound of heavy breaths, you say, “We are having round two, like right now.”

“You’re already addicted to me, huh?” Doyoung chuckles, dragging his knuckles over your side and making your skin tingle. You smirk and throw your leg over him, and he groans at how your pussy slides over his hardening length.

“By the end of the night, you won’t be able to get enough of me.”

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alt-rose · 3 years

Text

waste love - colson baker

colson baker imagine

waste love - you’re in a bad relationship, and your ex, colson, is there for you.

word count: 5.9K (tis a lot)

WARNINGS: domestic abuse (lowkey kinda graphic), f-bombs?

please don’t read if this is a trigger in anyway, shape, or form for you.

long story short, your boyfriend was kind of a dick. everyone knew that. your friend and co-worker, Pete had told you multiple times that your boyfriend Trevor was a pretentious asshole. even your ex, Colson, disliked him, but he honestly disliked everyone you dated.

you had called it quits with Colson right before Eminem’s Kamikaze came for him. you blamed it on lifestyle differences, but in the end, you couldn’t handle him getting wasted every night. you told him that you felt like he was constantly choosing drugs and booze over you, and looking back on it, Colson had to admit that you were right. you had a right to end it, but that didn’t dismiss the feelings you felt for each other.

for Pete’s sake, you and Colson remained friends. together, the two of you helped Pete through his breakup with AG and his struggle with his mental health. however, your friendship began to dwindle after a few months. the guys started to notice you slipping away from them when you started dating Trevor.

Trevor was appealing at first. he had a stable job as a manager for a production company. he stayed out of the party scene for the most part. at the beginning of your relationship, you felt like coming home to him was a break from the world. with your busy career as a cast member on SNL, you worked long and late hours, leaving you with two options: you could let yourself fall prey to the temptations that the New York nightlife had to offer, or you could go home. you tended to choose the latter and having someone to go home to made things less lonely.

by the third month, things had taken a turn. you had pulled away from your friendships, turning down opportunities to go out with them during the week. Trevor didn’t like you going out without him. you stopped talking to Pete and Colson for the most part, but you still saw Pete at work. Trevor didn’t like you hanging out with them. it even got to the point that Trevor didn’t like you talking about them so for your sake, you cut them out of your life.

for Colson and Pete, it was a blow. they missed you, and over the course of your relationship, they watched you change. the style of clothes you wore had changed. you traded in your mini skirts for jeans or loose-fitting pants; your dresses were more modest, always covering your arms and shoulders. you started wearing more jackets and turtlenecks. your skin was always covered, which is not to say that you walked around practically naked before. you were just less daring with your clothing choices now. even your makeup had changed. you were like a reformed version of yourself, looking more reserved compared to your usually expressive self.

unknown to them, you had something to hide. the jackets and turtlenecks weren’t because you were ‘always so cold’ like you’d tell people when they asked. you stopped with your makeup because you already spent so much time covering up bruises in the morning that you would run out of time to do anything else.

Trevor not only was possessive and controlling, but he also had a temper. it wasn’t that bad at first. it started with the comments. he’d comment on your hair. he’d comment on your makeup and clothes. you brushed them off at first because you were an independent woman who could look how ever she wanted to look. the comments were then accompanied by cheap insults taking shots at your insecurities. your tough exterior began to crumble at that when you began to doubt your looks and appearance. your confidence had faded. the last straw was when he had yelled at you for the first time. you were going to a banquet for his work, and he screamed at you for the dress you had chosen to wear, it was just a simple black dress that you thought was a safe option. he thought otherwise. he said you looked ridiculous, pointing out that it made your arms look flabby and that it gave you back fat. you offered to change, but he screamed at your even more, telling you that you were already running late so you would just have to go in what you were wearing. you cried to yourself in the bathroom as you struggled to fix your makeup.

ever since then, you made changes to your appearance because he was right. you started dieting. you stopped wearing your fun and creative makeup because Trevor said you looked childish. you started dressing tamer, only in sweaters and jeans. your spirit was dwindling away.

the first time he hit you was after the Tuesday night host dinner had run late. you were out later than you usually were, and Trevor had accused you of cheating on him. you of course yelled back at him, defending yourself. he responded by swiftly smacking your head into your pantry door and calling you a “lying bitch.” your head rung, and you pulled yourself away from him. you kicked him out that night, only for him to come crawling back to you in the morning with flowers and an apology. he seemed sincere so you accepted the apology, and he told you that he loved you.

the vicious cycle repeated for months. you’d be all lovey-dovey. you were happy, and he was kind. then, something would happen, most likely something small or insignificant that would set him off. then, he’d be angry. you’d fight. he would hit you. you would kick him out, or he would quickly apologize. then, you were in this weird period of walking on eggshells around him while he acted like nothing happened. then, he would do something sweet for you, like buying you a pretty piece of jewelry or making you a fancy dinner. then, you’d be the lovey-dovey couple that you were.

the things that set Trevor off the most was when you would support your friends. Pete had his movies out, and you wanted to watch them to support him. Trevor had caught you watching The Dirt, the movie that sparked Pete and Colson’s friendship, after it had been released to Netflix. Trevor was pissed. he claimed that you were still harboring feelings for you ex. you had argued that you no longer had feelings for the rapper/actor, but Trevor didn’t believe you. in his anger, he ripped the remote from your hand and had thrown it into your TV, shattering it in the process. the next morning, he took you out to buy a new TV, letting you pick it out so he could pay for it. you had learned your lesson from that one. you couldn’t have anything to do with Colson.

the summer was rough for your relationship with Trevor. without the stable routine that you had established with him when you were working at SNL, he began to spiral out of control. now that you were working on two films and couldn’t be in the city all the time, Trevor began to lash out at you to gain some sense of control over you. he grew violent and possessive, and you were grateful when you could travel without him.

at some point, you had ended up at Colson’s album party for Hotel Diablo. you had spent the night out with your friends, finally getting to party with Pete and Colson after months of never getting to see much of them. as strange as it may seem, the man of the hour had himself glued to your side the entire night. he brought you drinks and followed you around instead of celebrating with all of his friends. he danced with you like he had on your 21st birthday, the night that had started your relationship with him. later into the night, he sat with you as you lounged on one of the pool chairs in the backyard of the house that you were partying at. you started making smile conversation with him, now that you could hear yourself think.

“how are things?” you asked staring up at the sky.

“getting better, I guess,” Colson responded.

that night he told you about his dad’s prognosis, and you held his hand as you listened to him talk. he listened to you gush about the projects you were working on, and you listened to him go on and on about how proud he was of Casie. you laughed as he told you stories about the things he and his bandmates had done.

by the end of the night, it was safe to say that you didn’t regret going to that party. you didn’t think of Trevor once the entire night, and you felt free. however, problems started to arise once the party had ended. Colson had offered to drive you back to your hotel since he didn’t feel comfortable sending you off in an uber by yourself. you let him take you since he was sober. the two of you had stopped drinking about an hour into the party, and it was about 4 in the morning now.

Colson had his hand on your shoulder as he led you to his purple Aston Martin. you covered eyes as cameras flashed as the two of you left the party. the paparazzi had found you.

Colson quickly opened the passenger door for you, blocking the paparazzi’s view of you as you slid into his car. once you were safely seated inside, Colson closed your door before quickly making it to the driver’s side. he chuckled as he watched you turn on your heated seat and plug your phone into the aux, just like you had done when the two of you were dating.

when the two of you arrived at your hotel, Colson took your hand in his.

“I’m glad you came,” he softly told you before placing his lips delicately on the back of your hand, a gesture that was foreign to you after the past few months.

“I’m glad I came too,” you whispered to him.

your faces were so close together that if you took a deep breath, your lips would be pressed against his. part of you wanted to kiss him, and part of him wanted to kiss you. however, you pulled away before you could. you weren’t a cheater.

“promise me you’ll take care of yourself?” his eyes softly gazed over your features.

he could tell that you were wasting away. despite your carefree attitude tonight, he knew that you had changed. your independent, badass attitude had diminished over time, and he only hoped that you would take care of yourself so you could return to the girl that he used to know.

you only gave him a nod before turning your eyes away from him. turning the conversation back on him, you squeezed his hand.

“I’m really proud of you, Cols,” you smiled to him. “I can’t wait to hear your album.”

he murmured a response to you before placing another kiss on the back of your hand. with that, you had pulled yourself from his car, giving him a small wave as you entered through the glass doors of your hotel.

the next morning, you were on a plane heading back to New York. even though you were broken up and you were with someone else, the pain of missing Colson was still there. it was like something deep in your soul was crying out for him.

this trip was a breath of fresh air for you, and you had clarity now. deep down, you knew one thing to be true: you would rather have a little bit of Colson in your life than not have him at all. you didn’t realize how bad your situation was back in New York until you had an outside perspective. with Colson, you had people who loved you for who you were. no one tried to change you. no one tried to tell you what to do. they accepted you for the person you were, and they loved you unconditionally.

you needed those people in your life. Trevor, you realized, was not one of those people. he had done nothing but feed you lies about yourself that made you doubt your self-worth. he never treated you with respect, and every time he told you that he loved was like a punch in the face. it hurt worse than the ones with his fist.

stepping off the airplane in New York, you knew what you had to do. you had to breakup with him, and if you managed to survive, you promised yourself that you would never let yourself fall prey to a man like that ever again.

with your luggage in hand, you made your way to the pickup line, where Trevor was waiting for you. he insisted that he would pick you up, even though you told him that you could just take a cab.

“hi,” you smiled to him after you placed you bags in the trunk.

he only gave you a nod of acknowledgement as you closed your door. the air felt thick. your smile faltered the longer you stared at him. you watched his movements carefully. he roughly turned the keys, starting the car. his knuckles were white as they gripped the steering wheel. his other hand picked at his lips. he did that when he was pissed, and it put you on edge.

he began to drive, only addressing you once you were stopped at a red light.

“how was the party?”

your blood ran cold. how did he know?

“what party?” you laughed lightly, trying to brush him off.

“DON’T.” he slammed his hands on the top of the steering wheel before looking over at you. “DON’T FUCKING play dumb with me. I saw the pictures. did you fuck him? did you let him fuck you?”

“NO,” you shouted back at him.

his fist slammed your head into the cool glass of the window. your head rung as tears prickled in your eyes.

“you’re such a bitch, you know that?”

you watched the road in front of you. the light turned green. the lights around you blurred, and you let your head rest against the window. the tears ran down your face.

you said no word to Trevor when you arrived at your building. you grabbed your bag and quickly made your way into the building. Trevor quickly caught up with you, roughly placing a hand on your arm.

as you stepped off the elevator, you ripped yourself from his arm before making it to your front door. before you could unlock it, Trevor had you pinned with his hand secured tightly around your neck.

your eyes bulged as you gasped for breath. you began to kick at him, until he let you go. you stumbled into your apartment getting as far away from him as possible.

“I want to breakup,” you rasped holding your throat.

“why? because you love him more than you love me?” Trevor laughed throwing his keys on your counter.

“no, you’re a monster.”

he seethed as he moved to close the gap between the two of you. he roughly snatched you by your arms pulling you close.

“you are not leaving me,” he growled. “you’re mine.”

“I am not yours,” you grunted out as you struggled to pull away from him.

with all of his force, Trevor tossed you to the floor. your shoulder slammed into the floor as you landed on your arm funny. pain began to splinter from your shoulder before echoing throughout your body. you moved to sit up, clutching your arm, as his boot collided with your ribs.

you gasped for air. your lungs burned. you took blow after blow, barely listening to the cruel words he shouted at you.

once he finally thought you were down, he turned his back to you. you had somehow managed to pull yourself up from the floor, swiping the bat that you kept hidden under your couch. with your weak arm, you swung at him, only landing a small blow to his back. he stumbled before taking you by your throat and shoving you into the fish tank on the small cabinet you kept in the hallway.

you heard the glass crank from the force of your body. Trevor had thrown you to the floor, and the fish tank came crashing down on top of you. you laid on the floor, covered in glass and dirty fish water. you watched Trevor’s boots as they made their way to the door. he spit in your direction before calling you a slut. the door slammed shut behind him.

your vision began to blur as you watched your beloved fish, the two angelfish that Colson and Pete had bought you, begging you to name them both after them, flop against your hardwood floor.

you opened your eyes, wincing at the brightness of your kitchen light. you were disoriented. you felt a buzzing in your pocket. gently moving your arm, you pulled your phone from your pocket.

Pete’s contact picture flashed across your screen, announcing an incoming call from him. you accepted the call before moving the phone to your ear.

“hey girl,” you heard Pete’s voice flood through your phone. “whaddup?”

Pete could hear your raspy, heavy breathing coming through the phone. whatever he was planning on talking to you about was long forgotten now.

“(y/n/n), are you okay? what’s wrong?” Pete gently asked through the phone.

his heart beat loudly in your chest as he heard your sobs.

“I’m sorry,” you whispered to him. “I’m so fucking sorry.”

“(y/n), what did you do?” Pete began to scramble out of bed, looking for the spare apartment key you gave him. “where are you?”

“I’m at my apartment. I love you, Pete.” your speech was slurring. “tell Cols. tell him too.”

Pete called your name through the phone waiting for you response, but he was met with none. he called 911 as he ran from his apartment, catching a cab to your building.

the police had made it there before he had. damn, traffic. he stood at your apartment door as he watched the paramedics set you on a stretcher. you had an oxygen mask placed over your mouth and nose, and a paramedic began to tie a tourniquet around your thigh, above the shard of glass that impaled you when the fish tank fell.

as they rolled you out, Pete followed, holding the hand on your bad arm. your eyes found his face as the paramedics took you into the elevator.

“Pete,” you sighed, moving the oxygen mask away from you with your good arm.

“I’m here,” he nodded to you, stroking your wet hair. “who did this?”

you barely whispered Trevor’s name before you blacked out once more.

the second time you woke up, you were laying in a hospital bed. your body burned from the pain. your head buzzed. your neck was stiff. your lungs burned as you tried to breathe. your leg throbbed, and a shooting pain erupted from your shoulder. it took you a moment to focus your eyes, but you found your parents sitting in your room with you.

Pete had called them after the doctors rushed you into surgery for your shoulder. he also called the Mulaney’s, who had become your second set of parents. they were someone for you to rely on while you lived in New York City all alone. you could call them at any hour, and John and Anna would be at your beck and call, whether it was shopping for furniture or getting dinner. Pete felt like they would want to know.

he contemplated calling Colson, but today was his album release. Pete knew that part of you would be angry at him for bothering Colson, but he also knew that Colson would be even more upset with him if he didn’t call him. So, Pete made the call, only after you were out of surgery. your parents had arrived about a half an hour after your surgery had ended, and Colson was doing everything he could to get to New York.

you were kept overnight, but they planned on releasing you the next evening, making sure that nothing ended up infected and that your pain was manageable. your parents were out cold on the couch in your room. Pete occupied the chair next to your bed. your parents lied to the hospital staff, telling them that Pete was your brother. you could tell that the nurses didn’t believe them for a second, but no one wanted to argue with them. Pete was grateful that they let him stay, even after visiting hours had ended. after the state he saw you in just a few hours before, he didn’t feel comfortable leaving you.

from your spot in your bed, you watched Pete as he attempted to dose off with his head hanging awkwardly over the back of the chair. you saw his eyes pop open as if he could feel you staring at him.

“hey,” he whispered sitting up and stretching his neck out. “how long have you been awake?”

“not sure,” you whispered back as you picked at the hem of the thin hospital sheets you were given.

“what are you thinking about?” he asked leaning forward to rest his folded hands on your bed.

he could tell that you were deep in thought.

“I’m think about a restraining order.”

Pete gave you a small laugh.

“after the amount of evidence, the police gather from your apartment, he might even do a bit of time.”

“I don’t really care if he does time. I just want him gone, and I want him to pay for the stuff he broke,” you told him, moving your eyes away from the frayed hem in front of you.

“he will. (y/n/n) will get him to pay for all of it.”

he gently patted the top of your hand resting on the pillow the nurses placed it on to help your shoulder heal. taking a moment to flick through the tv, you grew frustrated before landing on an old concert playing on one of the channels.

“have you listened to it?” you asked turning to Pete.

“listened to what?” Pete asked glancing over at you.

“Cols’ album.”

“Ah, yeah,” Pete sighed sitting back in his chair. “it’s a banger.”

“he did good?”

“fuck yeah, Colson always does good.”

“good,” you sighed leaning your head back on the mountain of pillows.

“have you not listened to it yet?”

you shook your head.

“from the flight and Trevor, I didn’t get a chance.”

“I can play it for you,” Pete said sitting back up. “do you want me to grab some headphones or something?”

“no,” you said stretching your fingers out to stop him. “you can just play it out loud. I don’t want to listen to it alone.”

with that, Pete opened his phone before setting it on the table by the side of your bed. he hit play on the first track, adjusting the volume so that it was loud enough to listen to without bothering your sleeping parents.

you closed your eyes, letting the music surround you. you listened to the powerful lyrics in el Diablo and Hollywood Whore, taking in the struggles he had to face after the hate that came for him.

the opening to Glass House had tears prickling your eyes. you squeezed Pete’s hand as Colson sang the part about Nipsey and him. the first set of tears had slipped from your eyes. the tears were falling freely from your eyes when Colson sang about Peep, Mac, and Chester. you could feel his pain through the words he spoke. in this piece, he was completely vulnerable, open, sharing the darkness in his life and the loneliness he felt.

“I didn't sign up to be the hero but I don't want to wind up a villain. I put my daughter to bed then attempted to kill myself in the kitchen. Yeah, I should've screamed, but nobody listened. So I passed out with the blood dripping. In this glass house, feeling like a prison.”

your breath hitched in your throat. Pete squeezed your hand before pressing his forehead to your head. you let out a few quiet sobs. the emotions from the day were crashing down on you. you were exhausted. you were fucking terrified, and you wanted nothing more than to call Colson. you wanted to hear his voice. you wanted to know that he was okay, even though you had seen him just the night before.

“I think we should stop,” Pete whispered gently to you as you broke down.

“no,” you told him. your voice thick with tears. “I want to keep listening.”

“okay, okay,” he whispered, stroking your hair.

the two of you listened to Burning Memories, your heart clenched at the words he sang about his mother. A Message from the Count caught you by surprise, and you and Pete laughed gently at him and Colson messing around. the break from the heavy stuff was much needed, and your spirits were slightly better. you nodded along to Floor 13. you felt like the song was an appropriate response to the hate he received after Killshot, and you were proud of him for it. a small smile appeared on your face as you heard Casie’s outro for the song.

somewhere in the middle of the Truck Norris interlude, your parents had woken up. they gave you and Pete weird looks as they saw the position the two of you were in. Pete was awkwardly hunched over, resting his head against yours as the two of you bobbed along to Hotel Diablo.

Death in My Pocket had you in tears again. the rawness of the lyrics made your heart clench. you could feel his sadness through the lyrics about his aunt, father, and his relationship with his father. it reminded you of the conversation the two of you had the other night by the pool.

Candy was a bop to say the least, and you knew that that was going to be a fun song to perform. part of you couldn’t wait to see Colson perform on tour, but you knew that you should probably keep your distance from him for now.

Waste Love was another one that surprised you. the lyrics echoed your breakup from almost a year ago. you moved your head away from Pete, looking at him from your peripheral. your reaction had Pete lightly laughing.

“I knew it,” he nodded at you.

“shut up,” you whispered back at him.

your mom shot her head up at the two of you quietly bickering.

“what?” she asked, causing the two of you to snap your heads in her direction.

“NOTHING.”

Sunday afternoon, you sat on the edge of your hospital bed. the nurses helped you and your mom as your mom tried to help you get dressed. now, you sat with your hair pulled back loosely in a scrunchie, wearing a very large pair of sweatpants and sweatshirt that Pete had snagged from his apartment earlier that morning. your arm rested in a sling since you ended up dislocating your shoulder. your thigh was wrapped up, but you could still manage to limp on it. those were your two major injuries. other than that, you only had a few cuts and bruises.

the police had arrested Trevor last night, and as far as you knew, he was still locked up. you were relieved that you didn’t have to worry about him anymore.

now, you were waiting to be discharged so that you could go back to your apartment.

“ready to go?” your dad asked extending a hand to help you into the wheelchair.

you nodded to him, and with that, a nurse wheeled you to the exit with Pete and your parents following behind. your dad ran to get the rental car that your parents had picked up that morning. they didn’t really want to take a cab back to your apartment.

when you got back to your building, you closed your eyes as your rode up the elevator. you had been silent the whole ride home, listening to your parents and Pete’s conversation. Pete and your dad held you under your arms to support you, so you didn’t have to put all of your weight on your bad leg. they helped you hobble to your door as your mom unlocked it.

inside you could hear the hum of one of your records playing on your record player. your mom set the keys in the bowl by the door as you unlatched yourself from your dad and Pete.

on the kitchen counter, you saw a bouquet of yellow roses sitting amongst a bunch of shattered glass. on the floor, you saw the water stain from your fish tank mixed with your blood stain. your eyes flicker with tears.

“shit, I’m sorry,” you heard a voice from the sink in your kitchen. “I meant to cover that up before you got back. I talked to your landlord. he’s got a guy to fix that.”

standing in front of you was one of the only people you wanted to see. your 6-foot-4 blond giant friend. he had gloves covering his hands, and a bucket was filling in your sink.

hobbling forward, you pressed your head into his chest as you balled your good fist into the fabric of his black t-shirt. you could hear Colson take the gloves off before he wrapped his arms around you. you sobbed into his chest as he lightly stroked your back.

Colson gave Pete and your parents a look. they gave him a small smile, and your mom mumbled something about finishing cleaning up. around you, your dad took the bucket from the sink before moving it to clean your blood from the floor. your mom vacuumed your couch cushions to make sure there was no glass left behind. Pete pulled out a bottle of febreze to mask the scent of your dead fish.

you pulled yourself from Colson to laugh lightly at Pete. Colson gently wiped the tears from your face.

“where are my fish?” you ask him softly.

“they were too big to flush down the toilet, so I have them sealed in a zip lock bag for now,” he said gently. “figured you might want to do the honors.”

“thank you,” you murmured to him before hugging him once more. “your album is really fucking good.”

you could feel him lightly laugh as he wrapped his arms around you again.

“glad you liked it,” he murmured into your hair. his hands traveled up your back to cup your cheeks. “why are you crying?”

“I don’t know,” you laugh using your good hand to wipe away your tears. “thank you for being here.”

“always,” he smiled at you. “come on, I cleaned up your room. let’s get you off your leg.”

Colson helped you hobble to your room, helping you take your sling off before you laid down. he situated you on your pillows, propping your shoulder up and apologizing as you winced. he set your laptop up for you, giving you your headphones. he sat with you while you weakly scrolled through Netflix before finding the movie you wanted. The Dirt.

“you suck,” Colson smiled at you, causing you to laugh.

“I haven’t seen it yet. cut me a break.”

“alright, alright.”

he pulled himself up from your bed, placing your favorite blanket over you. as he moved to leave your room, you reached your good arm out to grab his hand. with your hand wrapped around his fingers, he turned back to you.

“did you write that song about me?” you ask him softly. your voice was so quiet that he almost missed what you said.

Colson gave you a small smile before raising your hand to his lip, pressing a kiss to the back of your hand.

“of course, it’s about you.”

“did you mean it?” you stared into his bright blue eyes, searching for an answer. “did you mean what you said?”

“(y/n), I will always mean it, and I know now is not the time to tell you this,” he paused to sigh. “I never stopped loving you, and I will probably always love you. and, I know I fucked up. I fucked up our relationship. I wasn’t around, and I was always wasted. and, I am so sorry for that. you deserved better than that, and I’m getting better. and, when you’re ready, I want to talk about us because I don’t want to live without you anymore. this year sucked without you by my side, and I don’t want that anymore. I want you in my life, and I don’t care how long it takes for you to get there. I will always be here, waiting for you.”

you had tears streaming down your cheeks. he sat back on the bed to wipe away your tears.

“you kinda suck,” you laugh as you used your good hand to wipe your eyes.

“I’m sorry,” he sighed avoiding your gaze.

“I missed you too, Col,” you said reaching up to trace his cheek. “it’s gonna take me sometime to get there because I want to get over this mess before I jump into something else, but I feel the same way. I don’t want to live without you in my life anymore.”

Colson smiled at you before moving to kiss you on your forehead. a knock on your door pulled you out of your little moment. Pete stood in your doorway with his jacket on.

“hey, Colson,” Pete began, causing Colson to turn toward his buddy. “we gotta go now if we are going to make the store.”

“okay, I’ll be there in a second,” he nodded to Pete as he got up from your bed once more.

“where are you going?” you asked him still holding his hand.

“we’re going to go get you a new tank. tomorrow, we’ll go get some new fish for you,” Colson said.

“but, you can’t just buy a tank-”

“I know,” he smiled back at you. “your dad made Pete and I a list. enjoy your movie.” he winked at you, closing the door lightly behind him.

the next morning, you stood in Randy’s Pet Shop with Colson and Pete, staring up at the multiple tanks of fish in front of you. like little kids in the candy store, the two of them made sure to pick out the craziest looking fish for your tank, begging you to let them name them. you of course agree, and the three of you left the store with Kevin and Barracuda, your new gold and blue gourami fish.

you knew that it was going to be a while until you were going to be okay again, but at least you had the guys in your corner. no matter how far you strayed from them, they were always there for you, and you were forever grateful for that.

life could only go up from here.

i know this was a bit darker than usual. feel free to send requests - rose xx

#machine gun kelly imagines #colson baker imagine #colson baker imagines #machine gun kelly x reader #machine gun kelly imagine #colson baker x reader

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fullmetalscullyy · 3 years

Text

royai week day 4 - communiqué

summary: roy has an announcement to make to everyone

rated: g | words: 2084 | tags: royai, post-canon, romance, marriage, marriage announcement, marriage of convenience, kinda? bc they just have~ to do it but it works out for them, basically royai using royai to further their agenda

read on ao3 | read on ffnet

“Good afternoon,” Roy greeted with confidence into the microphone atop the podium in front of him. Hundreds of pairs of eyes stared back expectantly, and while that should have been unnerving, his excitement at the upcoming announcement kept the feeling at bay. This communiqué had been a long time coming, crafted from years of subtle diversion, and playing a tactical game. Now, it was coming to fruition. It was all still part of their game, but Roy had a personal stake in this part of it too. It was still a win for both parties involved.

A huge personal win.

Up there, on the podium, he was completely exposed. While that was dangerous for someone like him with such high political standing, Roy trusted the eyes that were watching his back implicitly. He does not turn complacent, but is more than confident in their abilities. He trusts each and every one of his subordinates to ensure the day goes well and without incident.

“Today’s announcement,” Roy continued, “will hopefully put to rest any fears you may have had regarding me assuming the role of your leader. Fuhrer Grumman has led this country exceptionally well over the last five years but feels ready to step down. As you all know, I have been named his successor and will make a promise to you all now, this country’s citizens, that I will do my utmost to ensure I do my best by you.”

There was a pleased applause after he finished, accompanied by a quiet murmur.

He meant every word, but that was not the reason Roy had taken the stage that day.

“I would also like you to know that I’ve heard the rumours surrounding me,” he smirked, letting his gaze sweep across the crowd before him. Out the corner of his eye, he noticed how this had piqued the interest of those in the audience with the various media outlets. Their ears perked up at the mention of rumours, understandably. “I am aware of the public’s opinion on a bachelor like myself being given the title of Fuhrer. However, I have come here today to offer my reassurances.”

Some people in the crowd turn to one another, momentarily confused by what he’s saying. Roy smirked to himself, thinking of his own private joke before he opened his mouth to finally reveal to the world something he has wanted to for over two decades.

“As you can imagine, this will be a busy transition period for us, so I hope you will extend your respect, as well as privacy, to both myself and my new fiancé as we navigate this new chapter in our lives. I can assure you though, an official date for my upcoming wedding will be announced soon.”

It was like the crowd had frozen. A few jaws went slack, and mouths parted in shock as they processed the news faster than others.

“More news will come in due time. Thank you.”

With a simple bow of his head, Roy stepped back from the microphone and turned to look at the stunned officials up there with him. Breda and Havoc approached, nonplussed by the news, and started to escort him off the stage.

There was a split second where the world was completely still, as everyone was still processing what he’d just announced. Then, everything felt like it exploded. The crowd erupted into applause and cheers. Cameras flashed in desperation to capture the moment that Roy Mustang, the most eligible bachelor in Amestris and a well-known womaniser in his younger years, announced he was engaged, and his wedding would be announced soon.

Roy can hear some of the questions being yelled by the reporters.

“Who are you due to marry?”

“What’s her name?”

“General Mustang! When did this happen?”

He ignored them all, for all would be revealed in due time. It was enough for now that it had been announced. Roy never planned on revealing anything else other than that today anyway. He would have loved to. He can’t wait for the day he can finally give the order to give the announcement, but he must hold off. The mystery will drum up interest in their favour. It will draw eyes to them and get people talking. No other Fuhrer had caused quite as much a stir as he had, and Roy wasn’t even officially in office yet. He was popular and well liked among the masses. Not as much as the Fullmetal Alchemist, the alchemist of the people, but Roy’s work over the years had built up a perfectly crafted reputation for him. It played well into his plans.

A womaniser who announces he’s settling down with someone who is a complete mystery. It was interesting news. Especially for the imminent ruler of the country.

The public ate it up, desperate to know. Out the corner of his eye he could already see heads bowed together in excitement as they gossiped about the news while Roy walked off the stage.

He was led by his security team into a private room within the building behind them. Havoc gave him a quick nod in response to his order, reaching for the door handle and pulling it closed behind him. Breda was down the hall, already speaking into microphone after microphone in order to soothe public relations about the surprise announcement. Poor guy, but he did volunteer. Having Breda assure them, but give nothing away, would only cause more intrigue. If Roy went out there and spoke to them all, they’d never let him leave.

His shoulder slumped now he was away from prying eyes. Not with fatigue, but just to relax. The initial phase had finally started, and his plans were set in motion. While he did have a personal stake in this and was more than happy to go along with it, it could certainly be draining. But then again, nothing had ever been simple between them.

The door opened as he was pouring himself a glass of water. He reached for a second glass and smirked, not turning around because he knew who it was who’d entered. His order to Havoc was to permit only one person entrance to the room.

“Did you really have to do it so dramatically?”

There was a grin on his face as he turned on the spot, coming face to face with his fiancé. Well, according to the country, she was still his fiancé. Nobody, except from them and his team, was aware that they were already married, and had been so for a while. While touring Aerugo last month they’d taken a clandestine trip to one of the islands off the coast to the south. It was just the two of them, the team, and his mother in attendance. Gracia had made the trip, and so had Edward and Alphonse, along with their respective families. Everyone who mattered most to Roy was there to witness them come together as a couple.

Marriage was not the be all and end all for him and Riza. They already knew where they stood with each other and what their relationship was. They had done so for years, and the ring that nestled comfortably on the end of his dog tags proved that. The legal document was just a formality at this point and given his current position as leader of the country, it would be necessary. So, they’d compromised. A private, personal ceremony for them to do things their way, exchanging the rings they’d already given each other years ago. The grand wedding that was yet to come was for the masses, not for them. Once the official ceremony happened, he would move the ring onto his ring finger where it had always belonged and where he’d always wanted to wear it.

Riza’s lifted one eyebrow expectantly, awaiting his answer.

“They expect a show,” he shrugged, “so I’m going to give it to them.”

“So, our official wedding is just a show,” she deadpanned.

His expression softened at her light teasing. “Our official wedding has already happened,” he reminded her. “In case you had forgotten, we are already legally married.”

“I hadn’t,” she placated as she approached him, “but you need to stop talking about it so openly. You were the one who suggested keeping it a secret, and the walls have ears,” she replied cryptically. Once close enough, she brushed a piece of invisible lint off his immaculate uniform and his shoulder tingled where she’d ran her hand over it.

“Let them listen,” he shrugged again. Roy lifted a hand to rest upon her hip as he grasped one of hers, lifting them both to rest between their bodies. He bent his head forward and kissed the backs of her knuckles, a small, fond smile playing on his lips. “It doesn’t matter now that our news is out.”

“Part of the news is out,” she reminded him. “You were quite adamant about only revealing some of the truth so early on,” Riza smirked. “It will be a busy transition period for us, after all,” she quoted back to him with mock sympathy.

His eyes rolled fondly.

“So,” she continued, extracting her hand from his and taking a step backward to put some distance between them. Roy felt like a petulant child, pouting at her actions. “We must keep up pretences and give ourselves the time and space we need to adapt to our new circumstances and navigate through it.”

“You’re no fun,” he complained, his tone nearly a playful whine.

“I know, dear,” she replied, sounding like she didn’t particularly care he felt that way. Roy was only joking though, of course.

“How did it look from up there?”

Riza’s perch had been on the roof of the building behind him, on the lookout for anyone who may wish harm upon him, along with her own elite security team.

She snorted lightly. “I will admit, it was entertaining to see the looks on their faces.”

“They were very surprised,” he chuckled, pleased with himself.

“It’s never a dull moment with you.”

“I would hope not because you’re stuck with me now, fiancé,” he grinned.

“Unfortunately,” she deadpanned quietly. When he scowled at her, she laughed loudly, her smile reaching her eyes.

For a moment, Roy is enraptured by her beauty. Her grin lit up his whole world and the sound of her laughter pulled at the stings of his heart pleasantly.

He is married to this woman, he thought to himself, and still couldn’t quite believe it.

After so long… After so many years of ignoring feelings and holding back – or trying to – now he didn’t have to.

Although it was his plan to delay the information given, he really wished it wasn’t. He wanted to go back out there and tell everyone how much he loved and cherished this woman before him.

All in due time. And the pay off when that day finally comes will be so worth it.

They’ve both waited for so long. Roy could stick it out for a few more days. What was more important was holding this woman close and loving her so freely like he has always wanted, and Roy planned to do just that.

Riza smirked and didn’t shrug him off as Roy wrapped his arms tightly around her frame. He pulled her close and kissed her, trying to convey just how much he loved her with one kiss alone. She hummed against his lips pleasantly as her arms lifted to loop around his neck. One hand slowly, tantalisingly, trailed up the back of his neck, making him shudder. She noticed and grinned against him. When her nails scratched lightly against his scalp and Roy groaned, Riza’s smile widened. She knew exactly what she was doing to him. She could play him like a fiddle, but Roy didn’t mind at all. There’s no way he was going to stop her ministrations when they felt so good.

“I love you,” he breathed. His chest heaved with his breath and the words almost got stuck in his throat, both from the emotions overwhelming him and their passionate kiss.

“Love you too, Roy.” When she pulled away to look at him, Roy didn’t let her move far. Their noses were almost touching but he could see her expression soften. She looked so happy and content. So in love. Which was exactly how he felt too.

They both couldn’t wait to start this new chapter in their lives together.

#royaiweek21 #royai #royai fic #royai fanfic #royai oneshot #emma writes

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slashermom · 4 years

Note

That childhood friend ask had my heart, so how would it be with the other slashers? Like a friend Michael made at Smith’s Grove, a camper that stood up for Jason before he was thrown in the lake, those are just a couple of ideas. I’d love to see what you could come up with💕(just to shorten the list, it’s still kinda long, but they’re soooo cute Billy Loomis and Stu (separate) Brahms, Bubba, Thomas, Jason, Michael, and Norman deserves some love too) thank you so much❤️ I adore your writing btw

You already know the drill. Nothing spooky just big and didn’t wanna clog the feed. Enjoy!

Michael was only a boy when he entered what would become his personal hell.

He wasn’t really allowed too much time with other children in the ward but he did get some supervised recreational time a few times a week.

Which is where your story begins.

You never really told Michael why you were there but he could tell you didn’t want to be there any more than he did.

You typically kept to yourself but seemed kind to anyone who approached you. Even though you were nice enough you were quite reserved, so you can imagine the surprise he got when you came to him.

Michael wasn’t a big talker even back then but you talked enough for the both of you.

Michael wanted nothing to do with you in the beginning. I mean absolutely nothing to do with you but slowly you began to grow on him - a part of his routine.

Every once and a while he would mumble a one-word answer and make your whole day.

But as he grew older those treats grew few and far between. But you didn’t seem to mind.

Dr. Loomis definitely studied your interactions with Michael and tried to use it to figure out more about the young boy.

Michael even began to enjoy tolerate your company. But just as things started to blossom between you two - you pulled away.

“I’m going home Michael.”

You’re what? Did he hear you correctly? No. You couldn’t go home. You couldn’t just leave him here.

“This is my address... Once you get out you’re more than welcome to come visit anytime you like. You always have a place with me, Michael. “

You slid a small piece of paper across the table and then went to go reach out to put a hand over his but he yanked his hand away like he had been shocked.

You begged him not to be mad. But he was livid. How dare you leave just when he was about to let you in? When he did let you in.

Michael didn’t say a word but his eyes spoke volumes and you left feeling sick that you managed to leave and he didn’t.

Quite some time would pass before you two saw each other again.

But bet your ass one of the first things Michael did when he escaped was locate your residence.

He had every intention of watching the life drain out of your eyes and being done with you. Forget you as you forgot him.

But as he watched you, he remembered how much he missed you. Michael didn’t think there was anything to miss but boy was he wrong.

He noticed how you kept some of the routine Smiths Grove lays out for its patients.

You can take the kid out of the sanatorium but you can’t take the sanatorium out of the kid, huh?

These quirks that made you so recognizable in the sea of grey at Smith’s Grove. Things that grew on him like moss and sunk their claws in deep.

He watched you turn on the news and see the report on his escape. You stared a the screen with an unreadable gaze before shaking your head and turning to go to the kitchen.

Not before bumping into the Shape.

Taking in everything that the young boy had become, not that you could really see much with the mask and jumpsuit but he definitely had changed a bit since you had last seen each other.

“Michael.”

He knew what he should do, what he had to do, but he couldn’t seem to make himself move. Michael could only stare at you intensely and catalog your features.

Michael didn’t react when you slowly reached out and looped your fingers into his. Ignoring how the other hand was white-knuckling a kitchen knife that you suspected was taken out of your kitchen.

He only felt your warmth.

“I told you that you always had a place with me.”

And with that his mind was made.

Jason didn’t have any friends. Period.

He wasn’t expecting to find one at a summer camp he really wasn’t interested in being at in the first place.

You two never really played together per se but definitely acknowledged each other’s existence.

Always giving him a wave or a smile in the dining hall or across the field.

You even sat down next to him during downtime between activities and tried to strike up a conversation. He wanted to talk to you, he really did, but it was just a little hard for him.

Jason was working on putting something together for you to show his appreciation and willingness to be your friend.

Unfortunately, he never got to give it to you.

He remembers you running towards the end of the dock where he was about to be thrown into the water

“Stop! What are you doing?!”

The other kids laughed and explained they were just gonna dunk him.

“He hasn’t done anything wrong! Just leave him alone! You’re gonna get in trouble if you do this.”

As hard as you tried they still threw him into the water and scattered and as fast as you ran for help Jason still drowned.

You never forgave yourself for it.

Which is how you ended up back at Camp Crystal Lake as an adult.

Feeling guilty and some way responsible for his drowning, you returned to the summer camp in hopes to be the best camp counselor and somehow make up for the past.

It was an accident. You told yourself.

But you could never get the look of Mrs. Voorhees’ face out of your head. Poor woman.

Well, those plans were abruptly put on the back burner when your fellow counselors began being murdered left and right.

You didn’t know who was violently attacking everyone only that he was big, scary, and was wearing a hockey mask. That was more than enough for you to get the hell out of dodge.

Jason had managed to corner you into one of the old bunkhouses when he faltered just for a second.

Wait.

You looked familiar... Where had he seen you before?

“Y/N! Where are you? We need to go now!” The voice of one of your peers called from outside.

Y/N. That Y/N?

He flashed his gaze back down to your form across the hallway and seemed to come to the conclusion that it was, in fact, the same kid who tried to save him.

Each step you took back, he took one forward. You continued this dance until you were practically pushed up against the wall of the cabin.

Frantically looking for an escape or weapon you missed him reaching into his pocket and pulling out a piece of old construction paper.

His large hand held it out to your shaking form and waited for you to take it. Well, if you’re gonna die might as well see what the paper has to say.

It was old, wrinkled, and water damaged but still cared for in a way. You carefully unfolded the paper and felt your heart jump into the throat.

It was covered in colorful leaf rubbings and had flowers and pine needles taped all over surrounding a messy sentence in the middle that read:

‘My name is Jason. Do you want to be my friend?’

Billy was a little prick as a kid.

So not much has changed.

His anger always got the best of him and he had to always be king of the playground.

It wasn’t until you pushed him off the top of the jungle gym for messing with one of your friends that he really acknowledged you.

The rest is history.

You two were always picking on and chasing each other around the town.

That is until Billy formed his love for movies.

Always wanting to show you this new movie he got his hands on and get your opinion. He would watch your reaction and smile, especially if it was a scary movie.

You: That was kinda lame

Billy: Yeah... *flashback to last night when he was hugging his pillow and chewing on his fingernail* Totally!

Billy actually spent a lot of time with you or at your house.

He didn’t like being home.

His folks were always arguing or bossing him around and he wasn’t about that.

Billy would always brush it off when you asked if he was alright but it mattered a lot to him actually.

But he would sooner punch you in the gut before even hinting at the idea that he might be grateful for you.

He began to wish he told you more often than he did when you broke the news that you would be moving.

Billy was angry.

Not at you, he knew it wasn’t your fault.

He was angry at life for taking away what was supposed to be his rock. He didn’t have much and he didn’t need much but without you, what was the point?

But per usual, Billy’s anger got the better of him and he took it out on you. Claiming he didn’t give a damn where you went.

And that’s how things ended.

With Billy angry and you in new town.

Billy hated the way things ended and wished he could apologize but he wouldn’t even know where to find you. That is until he heard a new student had arrived at Woodsboro High.

He heard your name in a few different people's mouths but had failed to actually see you. He was beginning to think there was another person who just shared your name.

But as he came out of third period he just happened to look to his left down the hallway and find just the person he was looking for.

There you were. All grown up and still looking like a hurricane.

A smirk creeping on to his face as you met his gaze. It didn’t take you long to make your way over to him.

“Hey, jackass. You miss me?” It was meant to have more of a punch but he could see the fondness behind your eyes and words.

“You know it.”

Stu has been the class clown his entire life.

Which is actually how you two bumped into each other.

He was always up to some shenanigan or making things as difficult as possible for the poor teacher.

You two officially met each other when you were sent down to the office for something you couldn’t remember even if you tried and he was sitting outside the main office waiting to be called in.

Plopping down next to him and saying how you thought all his little tricks were pretty funny. But you also gave him some tips on how he could improve.

You began trading ideas back and forth, laughing about different things and exchanging stories.

From that day forward you were two peas in a pod.

Raising hell and having fun while doing it. Never a dull moment with you guys in the room.

It got to the point where you had to separated in class.

Which actually ended backfiring on the poor teachers.

Because this meant you guys had to resort to glances from across the room. You were practically able to read each other’s minds with just eye movements and facial expressions.

They basically just helped evolve your friendship to the next level of fuckery.

But you also shared some more tender moments.

Stu used to always confide in you. Expressing his frustrations about always having to act a certain way. It really got under his skin that nobody saw him.

When you told him you understood and that you saw him for who he really was he knew right then and there that you were a keeper.

But life always gets in the way.

Your family had found their dream home in the next town over.

Stu was heartbroken, to say the least.

He even offered to have you live with him. His parents have the money! He can take care of you!

You only laughed and promise that you would come back. You told him he could visit anytime he wanted and he told you the same.

But those sort of plans never work out and you lost contact.

Stu was actually just thinking about old memories he shared with you as he walked into the movie store where Randy worked.

Quickly finding his buddy at the checkout counter helping a customer, he had no problem getting into this person’s space while leaning on the counter to talk to his friend.

But what he didn’t realize was that the person at the counter was no stranger.

“Stu?”

His eyes flicked down to see who called his name and actually jumped when he realized who it was.

Stu took a step back in to get a better look at you and see if it really was you, all the while spreading a goofy grin on his face.

His features fell into a much softer smile as he opened his arms to give you a hug.

The partners in crime of Woodsboro were back in business!

You were actually friends with Emily Cribbs before you were friends Brahms.

Brahms believe it or not only had a few friends.

Emily Cribbs being one of them so it was only natural that you two would end up being friends.

Natural. Everything about his interactions with you seemed natural. Like it was always supposed to be this way, things always seemed right and just when he was around you.

And he felt this way almost immediately about you.

He would often invite you over to play games like hide and seek and listen to music while talking.

Brahms would often read you riddles or give you impossible challenges and you would beat almost all of them and ask him for a new one.

Brahms enjoyed your company more than anyone else’s and couldn’t quite understand why.

Probably because you never patronized or looked at him a certain way.

He found himself wanting to hang out with you more often than not.

But you had other friends. Like Emily Cribbs.

Brahms hated third-wheeling with you and Emily.

It could even be said this is one of the factors that drove Brahms to take his first life.

When you heard about the fire that broke out and snatched the lives of not just one of your friends but two, you were lost.

Even as young as you were you understood you would never see either of them again.

Or so you thought.

Many years had dragged on before you heard the name Heelshire again. After the fire, the couple kept to themselves and rarely went out in public.

You had heard of a nanny position at the Heelshire mansion through a friend of yours named Malcolm and decide to check it out.

Wondering if Mr. and Mrs. Heelshire had another child or adopted after Brahms’ passing.

But of course, it couldn’t be that simple.

You pitied the couple when they showed you the porcelain doll that looked about as close to Brahms as you could get in doll form.

We all cope in different ways you supposed.

The least you can do for your former good friend’s parents is to watch a doll for a few weeks.

But what you didn’t know is that it wasn’t just you and the doll.

The real Brahms had been patiently awaiting your arrival for days.

After his mother announced you would be applying for the nanny position he was ecstatic.

He wondered what you looked like after all these years.

Same smile? Same mischievous ways? Same ability to outsmart him in his own games.

All things he began to wonder even move as his heart hammered in his chest and his eyes moved over your figure from behind the wall.

Oh Y/N, welcome back.

Your father worked at the same slaughterhouse as the Hewitts which is how you and Thomas stumbled into each other.

You first caught a glance at him from a distance while your father was talking to the boss.

His mask is initially what grabbed your attention. Maybe he had it on because of the smell or he didn’t want anything to get on his face.

You didn’t know but you intended to find out.

But this innocent curiosity slowly grew into an interest in the boy and everything he was.

Thomas typically kept to himself and was skittish around anyone who wasn’t his family.

Hell, he was skittish around his family.

So it was some trial and error before you were even able to get a chance to get close to him.

But he did take note of your efforts. Thomas did wonder what it was like to have friends but he would never put himself out there in fear of being rejected.

You were able to catch him by himself hiding out back of the slaughterhouse.

“Hey!”

Thomas whipped his head up to see you jogging over towards him.

Thomas nearly jumped out of his skin when he saw you making your way over. Packing up what he had in his hands and turning to go back into the factory.

“Wait! Please stay! I won’t bite I just want to sit with you.”

Thomas stilled all his movements and waited to see what you were gonna do. You took slow steps over to him like you would a stray dog.

“Whatcha’ working on?” You sat down next to him on an old crate and looked at the piece of leather and needle he held between his fingers.

He didn’t reply. Only opening himself up from his hunched-over position and giving you access to see the piece of leather he was sewing to make a new mask.

“You think you could make me one?”

What would you want with a mask? There’s nothing wrong with you, at least not like Tommy.

He turned to make awkward side-eye contact with you to see if you were serious before giving a shrug. You seemed more than happy with the answer.

You two began to meet each other out back a few times a week where you would talk and Tommy would listen. Or sometimes you would go on walks down the road or through the tall grass.

He found peace in your presence.

No hatred, expectations, or ridicule.

Just peace.

But like most good things for Thomas, it didn’t last.

After your father was injured in an accident at the slaughterhouse you and your family could no longer afford the house you were living in and were forced to move.

There was never a formal goodbye between Thomas and you. Just a ‘I’ll see you tomorrow.’

Hoyt definitely gave him hell for being a bit broken up about you leaving. So he kept all of that buried with the rest of his trauma.

Thomas thought he heard the sound of a car pull up from his hideout in the basement and quickly stomped up the stairs to deal with whatever poor son of a bitch that had wandered in.

Instead of Hoyt and Luda getting ready to nab the visitor, he saw them sitting down at the kitchen table having a conversation with someone he couldn’t see due to just being able to see the back of their head.

“-I’m sorry about what happened to your old man darlin’. He was a good man. Oh! Tommy! Look who it is! Y/N L/N! You remember them right?”

Remember you? How could he forget you?

You turned around in your seat and beamed up at him.

His peace had returned.

#oooga booga #chonker post or whatever #happy monday all!#michael myers x reader #jason voorhees x reader #billy loomis x reader #stu macher x reader #brahms heelshire x reader #thomas hewitt x reader

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libsterslobsters · 3 years

Text

Whole Lotta Love

Synopsis: For some people, Valentine’s Day is another word for "stress", especially when you don't know what the other person is expecting. Several years into their relationship, Bucky’s pretty sure he has a good understanding of the Reader, until a word from Sam makes him question everything he thinks he knows. The race is on to make their first Valentine’s Day since saying their vows a special one, but as per usual, fate has it's own ideas about what will make the holiday truly memorable

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Fem! Enhanced! Super-soldier Reader

(Reader can see bits and pieces of the future in visions as well as speak every language)

Warnings: Smut, Fluff

Author's note: This fic contains references to earlier stories. For more information, click the series masterlist link. As always, the reader is unnamed so that this can be read as a self-insert, but at this point, I think of her as an OC.

The song referenced is Hearts Don't Break Around Here by Ed Sheeran

Series Masterlist

A The Song Remains The Same Fic

---------‐-----------------------------------

“So, Valentine’s Day.”

Bucky doesn’t look up from his laptop (or more specifically, the field report he’s typing) at Sam’s words. Despite his concentration, he can tell that his partner is staring at him, boring holes into his back with his gaze.

“Uh-huh.” He’s listening, but so far, he doesn’t care.

“What are you doing for it?” For Valentine’s day? Um…

“Not much.” It’s a Tuesday this year, right? Then probably working, like most other people, he’d imagine.

The room is silent as he types, so Bucky assumes that settles the matter. That is, until Sam mutters a quiet, “You’ve gotta be fucking kidding me.”

“About what?” How many paragraphs does he have to type before he can pass this off as a full report? When he joined the Avengers, he thought the hardest part of his job would be the bad guy of the week, not doing paperwork!

“You’re really not doing anything for Valentine’s Day? Seriously?” He nods absentmindedly and clicks the save icon. He’ll finish this tomorrow. It’s five o’clock. Time to head home. Home to-

“What’s your wife gonna think about that?” He shrugs and cuts the power to the laptop.

“She thinks that the whole holiday is a rip-off. See you Monday?” He turns around for confirmation, only to catch Sam staring at him, mouth hanging wide open. “What?”

“A rip-off?” Is he just going to be stuck repeating himself?

“Yep.” Told him that the first February 14th they spent together.

“And you actually believed her?”

He nods. “She’s not one to lie.”

Sam nods incredulously. “Uh-huh. And are you planning to ever have sex again?”

He’s not going to dignify that with an answer (because really, isn’t it obvious?).

“Fine.” Sam shrugs. “You do you, man. All I’m saying is, if I had a wife who looked like that-” he indicates the lock screen of Bucky’s phone (a picture of her laughing, telling him to put away the damn camera after wrestling the dog for the tie to her favorite robe). “-I’d have my V-day plans set up a month in advance.”

Normally Bucky would take what Sam says with a grain of salt, but he is after all a man out of time, so maybe it’s worth considering that his partner may be right.

“What would you suggest I do?”

“Outside of the bedroom?” He narrows his eyes at the Falcon. “Okay, bad joke.” Sam scratches at the back of his head, thinking. “I don’t know, man. That’s your girl. You know her best, but flowers are always a good place to start.” Good to know that hasn’t changed since the 1940s. Although, last time he brought her flowers, she spent the afternoon sneezing until he eventually convinced her that it was okay, he wouldn’t be offended, she should throw the damn things out. Then again, that was before she was a super soldier.

“Flowers.” He repeats, earning a nod from Sam.

“You can get creative. Do a little research. But I’m just saying, when a woman waits five years for you to reappear, the least she deserves is a few flowers.” On that, they can agree.

He must bid Sam some sort of goodbye and make his way through the Avengers compound, but he’s unaware of anything until he’s in the parking lot, sitting behind the wheel of his car, googling “What to do for your wife on Valentine’s Day.” There’s a web page that boasts twenty different selections. Might as well give it a look.

___________________________________________________________________________________

She’s nearly home when her phone dings with a text from Barnes. “Just got in. Forgot to get milk. Can you swing by on your way, or should I go to the gas station and pick up a gallon?” A frown forms on her face. It’s pretty rare that Bucky forgets things. Must’ve been a hell of a day at work, then. Either that, or his brain has completely turned to mush thanks to typing out field reports. Either way-

“I got it. See you in twenty.” She thinks about tacking on a “love you”, but the light turns green before she can.

The grocery store is packed thanks to so many people getting off work. There’s only three carts left, all with bad wheels. She chooses the least squeaky option and, grabbing an add on her way, heads into the grocery store. Milk, and if she remembers right from this morning, they’re running dangerously low on coffee and tea. Despite caffeine having absolutely no effect on their enhanced bodies, both of them are nightmares to be around in the mornings without their beverages of choice. Force of habit and all.

She’s halfway to the checkout when she sees it. A sign, decorated in garish shades of red, pink, and purple. “All Valentine’s Day chocolates 10% off.” Shit. Yeah, that is coming up. To tell the truth, she’d completely forgot all about that day halfway through February. For most of her life, it only meant giving homemade cards at school when most kids had store-bought. Then, once she reached adulthood, it was a reminder that she was destined to be alone. Who would want someone who’s on the run, and what’s more, sees the future? Once she and Barnes got together, it didn’t change much. That first Valentine’s Day, he mentioned the holiday, and she shut it down immediately. They were both broke (or at least, he had no legitimate way of making money while she was broke), and celebrating a mostly commercial holiday seemed like a waste. Plus, she didn’t want to put a strain on a new relationship. Over the years, the subject never came up again, and she’s content for it to stay a non-starter, thank you very much. In her opinion, you should show your partner you love them every day of the year, not shoe-horn it into one twenty-four hour period. Call her unromantic if you must.

She’s completely immune to the various displays of cheap chocolate in heart-shaped boxes and overly sentimental cards as she approaches the register and starts to unload her items. Milk. Tea. That one specific brand of coffee that he likes because, “It tastes like what we drank in basic training. Terrible, but I kinda got used to it, so now everything else tastes like it’s trying too hard.” whatever that means. He’s right; she’s tasted it, and it’s fucking awful. Still, every morning, he drinks at least three cups while she drains her pot of tea.

“You got a hot date for Valentine’s Day, hun?” The cashier asks her, never breaking her rhythm as she rings up the items.

She chuckles. “As a matter of fact, yes.” The cashier’s eye go wide, and she holds up her left hand. “And every other day.”

“Ooh, nice. How long have you been together?”

“Nine years.” Wait… “Or four years, depending on which of us you ask. He blipped, I stayed.”

The cashier nods. “So are you older than him now?”

Physically? They’re not completely sure, but if you calculate the times he was off the ice with HYDRA and add that to the age he was before the serum, then they’re not far off. But chronologically- “No, he’s still older.” And yes, it will always be funny that Sam responds with “Okay, boomer” whenever Bucky makes an outdated reference (even if he’s off by a good twenty years).

With a little more light chatter, she pays for her items and leaves. Now, for home.

As soon as she opens the front door, she’s greeted by their dog, Sarge, barking excitedly and hopping around like he’s on a trampoline despite missing a leg. Bucky’s not far behind, placing a quick peck on her forehead before taking the bags from her and unloading them in the kitchen. Tonight’s his night to cook, but unless her nose has suddenly decided to give out, he hasn’t started dinner yet. She doesn’t mind taking over tonight, and when he sheepishly apologizes while she begins her preparations, she brushes it off. Although, for the second time in an hour, she’s seen proof of his unusual absentmindedness. Oh well. She’ll ask him about it later.

Despite being relieved from tonight’s chef duties, Bucky stays in the kitchen, sitting at the breakfast bar scrolling through his phone as she cooks. His expression is neutral, which can mean one of two things; a) he’s just killing time and there aren’t any interesting posts or articles vying for his attention, or at the opposite end of the spectrum, b) he’s deep in thought, possibly angry, sad, or even frightened, but he’s gone into Winter Soldier mode and shut down so that she won’t pick up on his mood. Damn the man and his poker face.

Eventually dinner is served and she sends him off toward the fridge in search of two beers while she serves their plates. Just as she’s spooning a generous helping of salad into her bowl, it happens. A vision, but a limited one. All she’s seeing is a phone. Well, that and the hand holding it. She’s not sure whether to be proud or embarrassed that she immediately recognizes the hand as Bucky’s, but that goes by the wayside as she takes in the article he’s reading. “Should you do something for Valentine’s Day even is she says no?” It’s a thread on some anonymous discussion board. The reply that has his attention is in reference to a now divorced individual who “was dumb enough to believe that, on our first V-Day as a married couple, she didn’t want anything.” Oh boy. Not good. This will be their first Valentine’s Day since exchanging vows, and if the fact that he’s read this reply (if not already read, will read soon) means that it’s at least crossed his radar that she might be feeding him bullshit. That’s not the case, but after his research, she knows from experience that no matter how much she tries to convince him otherwise, a small part of his mind will be stuck on, “But what if this is a big deal?” Which means-

“Doll, are you just gonna stand there with the salad tongs in your hand?” That snaps her out of it.

“No. Just a vision.” He frowns as she passes him his plate.

“Anything important happen?” Should she say?

“No.” She’s not sure if the smile or not, so she takes a bite from her roll to cover it. “Random sneak peek.” It’s not a lie. What she saw really isn’t important. Still, if he’s in that mindset, she should probably go on and do something for him just in case. After all, why should it only be the ladies who reap this holiday’s benefits?

___________________________________________________________________________________

Not flowers. That’s the one thing that, after copious amounts of research Bucky is one hundred percent certain about. They may still be a common romantic gift, but since they were also a go-to back when he was courting girls in the 1940s, it’s safe to say they’ve been overdone. Plus, he doesn’t really want to remind her of that time she had such a severe allergic reaction to the flowers he picked her on a walk through the park in Bucharest that her eyes nearly swelled shut and she sneezed herself sick. That doesn’t exactly seem like prime romance.

Chocolates or other candies have the same issues as flowers. Contrived and predictable. A bottle of wine is nice, but neither of them can so much as get mildly tipsy thanks to the super serum. The fourteenth is his day to cook, so he guesses he could do some reading and try to create something a little more special than spaghetti (he thought about going to a nice restaurant for dinner, but there’s a few issues with that, not the least of which is they’re likely to be recognized without their disguises, and he’d rather not look at his wife through sunglasses on Valentine’s day), but that seems a little underwhelming.

As he loads the dishwasher (she fell asleep half-way through the third episode of whichever nonsensical comedy they’re watching this week, so he sneaked back downstairs to clean up the dinner dishes), he thinks back to the dozen separate articles he read on the subject of Valentine’s Day gifts. Jewelry was a common theme, but that’s out. She’ll say thank you to his face, but worry about the cost behind his back. Plus, he has absolutely no idea what she’d like, and there’s no sense in purchasing something only for her to hate it.

Another common one was lingerie. Bucky almost choked on his tongue when he saw some of the examples given with that option. None of it looked comfortable (in fact, he’s still scratching his head about how you even put on one of the pieces that popped up on the web page) and he doesn’t want to give her the impression that she has to dress up for him. Even putting all that aside, he has no idea what size she’d even wear. He likes to think that he knows his wife pretty well, but somehow, in all their years together, it never occurred to him to ask her for her clothing sizes. That, and have you even seen the bra sizing system? Does it make sense to anyone, because to Bucky, it’s all gibberish. 32 B? 36 DD? What the hell? Somehow, when HYDRA was training him to extract information, they failed to go over the translation of a woman’s bra size. He supposes he could ask, but he’s not sure there’s a non-suspicious way to work, “Hey, sweetheart. What size are your breasts?” into casual conversation.

Sam said to get creative, so he tried to think outside the box. What’s something she really needs? A new vacuum cleaner is the first thing to come to mind, but he’s not stupid enough to think that would make a good gift. He knows she’s had her eye on a set of throwing stars, but that doesn’t seem to correlate well with what this holiday is all about. That’ll keep until her birthday.

He’s still wracking his brain for anything at all that might work when he feels a wet nose poking at his hand. Sarge. “Hey, boy. Has your mom gone to bed?” The response is a quiet “woof” and lick to his palm. He scratches the mutt behind the ears, smiling to himself as Sarge’s back leg thumps at the treatment.

“What do you think we should get our girl? Huh?” There’s no reply (of course not, he’s talking to a dog), but he nods, pretending all the same that Sarge has offered up a suggestion. “A bone. Yeah, somehow I don’t think that’s her thing. Try again.” The dog blinks at him lazily. “No, you’re the one who wants new tennis balls. Not Mom. Although you’re right about her liking peanut butter.” At this rate, he might as well get her a bone and some tennis balls, because he’s sure not coming up with any ideas.

She likes music. The thought pops into his head while he’s brushing his teeth. All sorts of music. Over the years, he’s tried to make sense of the songs he’s heard her listen to, but has yet to find a discernible pattern in her listening habits. She doesn’t seem to stick to just one genre or era. More like she picks songs by how they relate to what she’s feeling at the moment. Wait a second-

“A mixtape.” His reflection mouths the words back at him. Despite technology having moved on from the days of burning CDs, she still has a thick stack of the disks stored in a cabinet and plays them on the regular. He’s even seen a few that she made herself, pasting together the songs she likes to make a “Cleaning mix”, “Workout Mix” and “Pissed off Mix”. Bucky’s sure he could figure out how to burn a CD, but it’s not like she’d be able to listen to that everywhere she went. That leaves a playlist. She uses one of those apps to listen to music on her phone, right? Surely he can put something together for her using that.

Quietly, he climbs into bed next to his sleeping wife and pulls her back against his chest, slinging one arm over her waist as usual. He closes his eyes, but his mind is alight with activity. A playlist. Of course. He’ll put some extra effort into whatever he cooks that night, stop by a bakery and pick up some sweet treats for dessert. Hell, maybe they’ll both dress up and act like they’re on a date. Then, once they’re sitting down to their meal, he’ll pull out his phone and hit play. It’s perfect. At least, he hopes it is.

___________________________________________________________________________________

Putting on a lacy bra and panties set underneath her regular work attire seemed like a brilliant idea this morning. Today’s a short day; she’s only got three classes to teach, and Rhodey called last night to tell Bucky that he’s suspending work hours at three pm “Since most people have holiday preparations to make.” Her plan was to be waiting on the sofa in the living room when he arrives home, professional button-down blouse open just enough for him to get a good look at what’s underneath, pencil skirt pushed up enough to reveal the stockings and garters she’s donned for the occasion. It’s fun, with just enough cheesiness to match this whole holiday. And, well, it’s a guarantee that by the end of the night they’ll be in bed together, both rumpled, sweaty, and satisfied. Perfect, right?

Wrong. On her drive to work, her skimpy underwear began to ride up, giving her a wedgie, and there was no way to adjust without running the risk of wrecking. She was so distracted by her discomfort that she missed her exit, and by the time she arrived at the college, she was running so behind that she didn’t get the chance to run to the bathroom and readjust. Her lecture on sentence diagrams was pure torture before the underwire from her bra decided to join in the fun and poke her directly in the ribs, but with that addition, she was especially impatient with her students’ tendency to joke around a little too much in class.

Luckily, she had just enough time to wrap the exposed metal bit in tissues before her next class, which eliminated the pain in her chest, but did nothing to alleviate the discomfort once her stockings began to slide down, having at some point disconnected themselves from the garters. She taught like that for the next two classes, but as soon as they were over, she pealed the whole ensemble off in the teacher’s restroom and changed into her gym clothes. Alright, screw the whole seduction routine. She needs to blow off some steam and fast, or else she’ll be in a bad mood all night.

That’s why, thirty minutes later, she finds herself in the training room of the Avengers compound, working over a punching bag. “Fuck-” Her fist connects, making the bag swing crazily from it’s hook. “-this- whole- day!” It goes sailing, and she feels a little better.

“Ouch!” The voice comes from behind her and she whirls around, gaze resting on-

“Sam.” The man in question holds up his hands in an “I surrender” gesture.

“Don’t shoot! I come in peace.” Rolling her eyes, she holds up her middle finger, receiving a snicker in acknowledgment.

“Just working off a little frustration before I head home.”

“Good.” Sam chuckles. “’cause otherwise, I’d be worried that when Barnes pulls out his dick tonight, you’ll bite it off.” She thinks about telling him that there’s no chance of that, but she might just cut off his if he crosses her. However, that jogs her memory.

“Has he left yet?” Sam nods.

“About an hour ago. Said he had to pick up groceries.” Shit. There goes her plan to shower, throw the damn lingerie back on and proceed as planned.

Bidding Sam a hasty reply, she makes tracks towards her car and, once inside, heads for home. Fine. New plan. She’ll shower once she arrives and then when the evening is drawing to a close, wait for him in bed. Nodding to herself, she puts the car in park and climbs out. Now, to psych herself up enough in the next few hours to put the damn lingerie back on.

___________________________________________________________________________________

Where did he go wrong? It takes all of Bucky’s self control not to spit out the spoonful of sauce he just tasted. This was supposed to be an easy recipe for Chicken Alfredo (or at least, that’s what the website boasted; he should’ve known better than to get his information from the internet and stuck to a good old-fashioned cookbook from the library). Not… whatever the hell this is. Maybe even if the sauce is nauseating, the chicken is okay?

He pulls open the oven door, and immediately smoke billows out, making his eyes water. Okay, chicken’s a little well-done. Who is he kidding? Black. The chicken is burned black. And the pasta… he lifts the pot lid and stirs, only to come to the realization that the pasta is completely stuck to the bottom of the pot. Wonderful.

It’s inevitable; over the years, he’s had his fair share of cooking disasters, but usually he does okay. Tonight though… who the hell up there did he piss off, because the only explanation for how badly this is going is his karma coming due.

Still holding the offending spoon, he looks over at Sarge, who’s staring at him, long pink tongue sticking out as he pants. “Trust me, boy. You don’t want any of this.” There has to be something else he can pull together on short notice. Normally he’d be worried that she’s running late without so much as a text, but today he’s relieved. At least if she’s running behind he’ll have time to… what? Maybe order takeout? Before she gets-

“I’m home.” Shit.

Sarge yips, shaking with excitement, and starts towards the kitchen door, then turns back, uncertain. “Go on. I know you’re dying to jump on her and lick her face.” Something they really should be training out of him because he’s getting too big for that sort of behaviour but, well… there’s a reason they call them “puppy dog eyes.”

Not needing to be coaxed, the dog takes off, tripping a little in the momentary lapse in his memory that he’s a tripod, but easily catches himself and goes on his merry way, leaving Bucky to clean up his mess. From the sound of things, a game of fetch is going on in the living room, so she should be distracted for a while.

He manages to pour the sauce down the drain and scrape most of the pasta into the trash while Sarge is acting as a decoy, but there’s absolutely no way he can dispose of the chicken without tipping her off (damn enhanced senses, it’s a wonder she hasn’t already smelled it). Finally, he decides to just go for it. She’s going to notice whether he throws it out now or two hours from now. Might as well get a head start on cleaning.

Sure enough, not ten seconds after he empties out the oven, he catches a movement in his peripheral vision, and the familiar sound of her breathing tips him off that he’s no longer alone.

“Hey, Doll.”

“Hey, Bucky. Did something burn in here, or-” He holds up the pan for her inspection before continuing his scraping.

“That’s one way to put it, yeah.” He slams the lid back on the trashcan and turns on the tap, intent on rinsing out the pan. “Another is whoever the god of culinary arts is has it in for me today.”

She chuckles. “You know, that would be funnier if we didn’t actually know a god.”

“Yeah, but he’s in control of thunder.” He meets her eyes, smirking slightly. “Although it did look like I electrocuted the bird.” Her lips quirk up into a smile, and he takes the opportunity to kiss her, cupping the back of her head gently to hold her in place when she tries to move away, muttering something about being sweaty.

He’s not entirely sure how it happened, but by the time they come up for air, her back his pressed against the wall and he’s got her pinned in place. Not that he’s complaining.

“Anyone ever tell you that the tip of your nose turns pink after you’ve been kissed?’ Her cheeks go rosey in response.

“I think so. One guy did. I told him it’s only when I’m kissed properly.”

He really would like to continue the playful banter, but there’s still the small matter of whatever it is they’re going to eat.

“What do you feel like for dinner tonight?”

“Apart from electrocuted chicken?” He responds with a swat to her ass, which earns him a snicker. “Let’s keep it simple. Pizza. Your choice of toppings.” Right, that’s easy enough. Plus, if they have to wait longer than thirty minutes, it’s free.

“Okay. I’ll order while you shower?”

“Sounds like a plan.”

He’s just pulled up the menu on his phone when the sound of her clearing her throat attracts his attention. She’s standing in the doorway, combing through her freshly let down hair with her fingers, a playful look in her eyes.

“Or you could join me. Just a mild suggestion.”

Dinner can wait for a while.

___________________________________________________________________________________

The Brooklyn townhouse they live in has many nice features. There’s a functional if small screened in back porch, big enough to hold a table for two and a grill. Two bedrooms, on the off chance someone from work needs to crash for a night or two. A kitchen with a dishwasher. A working fireplace. Good closet space. And an en suite bathroom.

Maybe it’s a little ridiculous to call a bathroom luxurious, especially when, in comparison to what’s featured in many brownstones, it’s more than modest, but she can’t help but think of it as such. There’s a double sink so that in the morning rush to get ready, Bucky’s able to shave and brush his teeth without having to wait for her to finish applying her makeup. Shelving above the toilet makes certain that even if the last person to shower took the towel with them, another one is on hand. Speaking of the shower, it’s not the largest one in the world, but both of them can fit in comfortably at the same time, which is what’s lead to their current situation.

She’s just finished allowing the water to course over her body, easing the sweat from her skin, and is about to begin the process of washing her hair, scrubbing her body, but she hesitates. She might as well ask. It’s only practical after all.

“Do you want to start now or get cleaned up and have dinner beforehand?” It’s obvious what she’s referring to, so she doesn’t bother to spell it out.

His brown knits, and if she didn’t know him as… intimately… as she does, she’d actually believe he’s confused.

“Oh, so you’re just assuming there’s gonna be sex involved at some point tonight?”

She shrugs, wringing out her hair.

“Seemed like a safe enough bet.” She glances pointedly between the two of them. “After all, we’re already undressed. “

His laugh is a quiet huff, barely discernible over the sound of the water. “Then I’d say start now, have dinner, then go for round two. Sound about right to you?”

She nods. “Solid plan.”

“Then get over here.”

Unlike the welcome home kiss they shared not half an hour ago, this one is less tender, more electric. Hands twist in hair, bodies press together. Tongues begging for entrance quickly give way to teeth nipping at bottom lips, an unspoken sparring match for who’ll be in control this time around. Ultimately he wins, grasping her hips and lifting as she wraps her legs securely around his back.

There’s no need for prep; the teasing of their earlier words is foreplay enough. Back pressed against the wall, her body easily welcomes him in as she braces one arm against the glass shower doors for balance. Any concerns about slipping and falling wash away as they move together like so many times before. She’s sure her nails will leave marks on his back, fingertips digging in for purchase and it’s a guarantee her hips will be littered with fingerprints from his grip, but she can’t find it in her to care, and if the desperate, bruising kiss assaulting her lips is anything to judge from, neither can he.

“So damn good, Doll.” It’s panted against her neck. “Always. So damn perfect for me.” All she can manage is a moan in response.

She feels him twitch inside of her and knows he’s close. So is she, but she can’t quite get there without-

As if he’s read her mind, he reaches between them to touch her where she needs it most, and on instinct, she readjusts, locking her arm around his neck to stay in place. “Let go, sweetheart. Can you do that for me?” She couldn’t disobey if she wanted to.

“Fuck.” As her walls contract around him, he pulls out just in time to paint her middle with his release.

“That’s one word for it.” She’s still fighting to catch her breath, but she shoots him a shaky smirk, which he returns.

“Happy Valentine’s Day, Mrs. Barnes.” Snickering, she releases him to stand on unsteady legs and pecks his legs.

“Happy Valentine’s Day, Mr. Barnes.” Maybe there’s something to this holiday after all.

___________________________________________________________________________________

“You want the last slice?” Bucky considers it for a moment before deciding-

“Nah. You can have it.” It may not be exactly what he planned, but it’s been a good night. Between the two of them, they’ve gone through two large pizzas while watching the new version of Beauty and the Beast (she rolled her eyes when he asked if this was her way of saying he reminds her of a certain hairy, horned character) in their pajamas.

“No, really. You take it. I don’t want it.” She nudges the mostly-empty pizza box towards him. The noise makes Sarge lift his head from where he was snoozing beside her on the sofa. That gives him an idea.

“I don’t want it either, but I can think of someone who does.” He cocks his head towards the now-drooling dog. “How ‘bout it, boy? Wanna help us out?”

Snickering, she picks the pepperonis and pieces of sausage and ham from the pizza, forming a pile. “Here, Sarge. Catch.” She tosses a coveted treat in the air, and Sarge’s jaw snaps, swallowing it whole. “Good boy.”

They sit in comfortable silence for a few minutes before she speaks again.

“You know, I actually did have something planned for you.”

“Oh, yeah?” She nods.

“Absolutely. Had a whole seduction plan laid out. Tiny underwear, lacy bra, and stockings with garters included.” Huh. Guess she wouldn’t have taken the “lingerie” option the wrong way. He’ll file that away for future use… along with a mental note to ask her bra size. “That is, until I tried wearing the damn things for longer than an hour. Turns out, hiding a dirty secret under your clothes is more itchy than sexy.”

He can’t help it. He laughs, producing a pout from her which quickly turns into her own quiet laughter.

“Well, that fits in perfectly with my fancy dinner going up in smoke.”

“We really do have shitty luck with the whole “romance” thing.” She’s joking, but he decides to respond anyway.

“I don’t know about that.” Entwining his fingers with hers, he lifts their hands, twin wedding bands catching the light. “You waited five years for me to reappear after the blip, and I convinced you to elope with me. Seems pretty romantic.” Although, that reminds him…

“Don’t move.” Releasing her hand, he stands and goes in search of his phone.

“Bucky, what-”

“Don’t move, Doll. Stay right where you are.” Ah. On the kitchen counter, just where he left it. Jogging back into the room, he resumes his place on the couch next to her. Ignoring her questioning gaze, he pulls up the app and, selecting the correct playlist, hits play.

Immediate recognition blooms on her face at the opening lyrics. “She is the sweetest thing that I know. Should see the way she holds me when the lights go low.” He’s not one for modern music, but when he was googling “songs for Valentine’s Day” and this one popped up, he couldn’t help but think that the lyrics were fitting.

“I didn’t know you’d heard this one.”

He chuckles. “Even old men have a few tricks up their sleeves. That, and a wifi connection.” She rolls her eyes but leans closer, which he takes advantage of to show her the playlist.

“This is the app you use, right?” Receiving a nod, he continues. “Feel free to scroll through and add whatever you want. I haven’t listened to all of them the whole way through, but they seemed to fit the mood.”

Her hand closes over his, covering the phone. “Thank you, Bucky. It’s perfect.”

As the singer goes on about how hearts don’t break around here, he presses his lips against hers.

“I love you, Doll.”

“Love you.”

Not bad for a disastrous Valentine’s Day. Not bad at all.

#marvel #the avengers #bucky fanfic #bucky x original female character #bucky x you #bucky x reader #bucky x y/n #bucky barnes #captain america #the winter soldier #bucky barnes smut #smut #fluff

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wolfstar-supremacy-innit · 3 years

Text

"Tell who?"- Part 3

Remus smiled into his pillow. Why’s he so cute? He felt something rustle under his stomach. Reaching under himself, he pulled out a wrinkled piece of parchment. His resolutions list. Remus flipped onto his back and squinted at the letters. Warmth was pooling in his chest. Something is missing here. He patted the bed in search for his quill and ink, then wrote:

5. Fuck this I wanna tell him I love him

The paper slipped to the floor as Remus’ arms gave out and he drifted into an instantaneous, profound sleep.

Alternatively:

The Marauders are in their 6th year at Hogwarts, it's New Year's Eve and Remus writes a New Year's resolutions list. Sirius finds it the next day. The story is written from Remus' point of view. It's wolfstar and lighthearted. Kinda inspired by this fanfic.

This is part 3 of the story. I will be posting the other parts separately here and also the full fic on ao3 (I will link everything when it's done, check this post for that in some time). Warnings: underage drinking and smoking, mentions of anxiety disorder.

Part 1 Part 2

Enjoy <3

I’m such an idiot. I’m an idiot. Why didn’t I lie?! Why didn’t I disprove it? This was it. This was the end of the world. He knew Sirius wouldn’t react terribly badly. He wouldn’t express disgust or resentment, not after Remus confided in him about how sensitive he was on the question of his own sexuality. But it would be painfully awkward. Their connection would never be the same; it couldn’t. Remus dreaded losing his best friend. But it was done. Sirius’ best friend was James anyway. Remus buried his face in his hands as tears stung his eyes. He settled into his new hideout and slept there for the night. He couldn’t bear to face Sirius.

In the morning, Remus made an effort to arrive to Charms class as late as possible, right as Flitwick was commencing his lesson. He slid into the chair at the end of their usual table, next to James. Sirius was on the other end. “Where were you, mate? You scared us,” James whispered. Peter was gazing at Remus over his shoulder.

Remus cleared his throat. “Sorry, fell asleep in my spot,” he said. In his peripheral vision, Sirius was leaning far on the table, trying to catch his attention. But Remus took it upon himself to laser focus on the lesson, his nose buried so deep into his notes, it was nearly touching the parchment.

After the class, he bolted again. He just couldn’t face him. He couldn’t. He returned to his hiding place and waited out his free period and most of lunch. He had to repeat his breathing exercises more than ever. Suddenly, Remus paused. Determination was rising in his chest. Then he forced himself to pull it together. It wasn’t like Remus to run away from his problems. If being a werewolf had taught him anything, it was that neglecting and avoiding your issues doesn’t make them vanish. Makes them worse, even. Also, Remus didn’t have a lot. He had his parents, music, books, magic, and he had his friends. There wasn’t much he prised more than his friendships with James, Sirius and Peter. Sirius knowing about his crush was thoroughly embarrassing, yes, but it wasn’t worth completely losing his friends. Plus, he was due for a shower. So Remus took a few more deep breaths, dusted himself off, and headed for the dorm. When he got there, nobody was inside. He took his sweet time in the shower, allowing the warm water to drain out more of his nervous energy. I can handle this.

When Remus got out, Sirius was there, lying on his stomach, doing homework. He looked up. Remus put on a brave face and said: “Hi.” Sirius’ worried expression was exchanged with a slightly more relaxed one. “Hi.” Remus sat on his own bed looking in Sirius’ general direction, but not quite at him, cleared his throat, and said: “Um, sorry I bolted. That was childish.”

“That’s alright,” Sirius replied in the tiniest voice. It was very unlike his usual loud, assertive self.

Remus wanted the bed to swallow him whole, but he pushed through. “We don’t have to talk about the... thing. Or acknowledge it. It’s not a big deal, really.” A lie. But it needed to be done. Sirius didn’t say anything. Remus was certain he didn't know what to say. Reaching into his bag, Remus retrieved his Charms textbook and started on his own homework. Out of the corner of his eye, he could see Sirius still looking at him for another minute, then he went back to work. The silence was agonising and tense, but Remus had known it would be. They would just have to persevere. After a while, Sirius asked: “Hey, could you help me with this? It’s Arithmancy. I procrastinated, and now I have to hand it in in half an hour.” Remus snorted. Their next class was Arithmancy, and only he and Sirius took it. So, Sirius was choosing to act like nothing happened. That was okay with Remus. “Sure.”

Only, as it happens, Sirius didn’t ignore it. Throughout the next week, he started acting a little peculiar. He was still loud and fooling around, but he would also hold doors for Remus, for example. If anyone knew Sirius, they knew doors were either held for him, or he would just swing them open and let them slam behind him into the next person’s face. Even James noticed it and asked him if he had brain damage. Also, a couple times at meals, Sirius would scoot his seat closer to Remus’, making their arms brush while they ate. The first time it happened, Remus blushed so profusely, he could see giant pink splotches splattered all over his neck and cheeks in his reflection in one of the large silver bowls on the table. Sirius stopped calling him ‘mate’ too. Occasionally, he’d ask for help with his homework, even though he clearly didn’t need it. It all made Remus want to shoot himself in the face with a hex. It seemed like Sirius was pitying him, and he despised it. It was somehow worse than Sirius being awkward and distant around him.

January’s full moon fell on the 25th, and Remus’ transformation didn’t go particularly smoothly. It was likely one of the worst ones out of all those he spent with his friends as animagi. He was fairly confident it was because of the whole Sirius thing. Just because he decided to deal with it didn’t mean it wasn’t taking its toll. Remus was stressed all the time. Not just because of Sirius, of course, but that was a key factor. When he woke up in the hospital wing the following morning, his friends were there. James rambled on enthusiastically about an upcoming Quidditch match. Remus didn’t really comprehend half of it, but still tried to nod at appropriate times. Peter piped in once in a while to agree with James or add something. Sirius, however, was completely silent the whole visit. About an hour later, Madam Pomfrey chased James, Sirius and Peter out, but Remus didn’t mind too much. He was knackered. He drifted off to sleep before the boys were even out the door.

Later that day, at dusk, Remus sat in his hospital bed reading a muggle novel when Sirius popped in. Or rather sneaked in. He was alone this time. “Had a free period. Thought you might want some company,” he explained. Elation started brewing in Remus’ stomach.

“Oh, brilliant, thanks.”

“What are you up to, then?” Sirius sat on the bed.

Remus lifted his book. “Reading. Not much to do here, really.”

“Sweet. Will you read to me?”

“What?”

Sirius smiled. “Will you read out loud for me?” He turned around, plopped on the bed face-up with his boots propped up on the railing at the foot of the bed. He tucked his hands behind his head, half lying on Remus’ legs.

“Oh, okay.” Heat sneaked up Remus’ neck. He read to Sirius until it was almost time for him to leave for his next class.

“Transfiguration next. Think I’m gonna gouge out my eyes if we don’t move on from teacup to gerbil.”

“Yeah, yeah, we get it. You mastered it two lessons ago.” Remus rolled his eyes, smiling. Sirius let out a soft laugh.

“Moony...” He was now sitting on the bed next to Remus. “I feel like this is my fault.” He reached out and gently touched the bandage on Remus’ arm. Sirius was referring to Remus’ beat-up state.

“What? Of course not. Why would you think that?”

“Well, because of the... You know... I mean, you’re upset and-“ Remus’ heartbeat picked up swiftly. They hadn’t so much as mentioned the crush since that day in the dorm.

“I’m not upset. Really. I just have a lot on my mind.” He searched his brain for something more to say to make Sirius feel better. It wasn’t his fault at all. It was Remus’ for letting this bother him so much. “It’s not you.”

“You sure?” His eyes were so sad; it was painful.

“Yes, Sirius, really. It’s not you, okay?”

“Okay.” After a pause, Sirius continued: “Oh, I almost forgot. Brought you something.” He smiled, finally. After rummaging in his bag, Sirius emerged with a stack of chocolate bars and dropped them into Remus’ lap. They were Remus’ favourite. Warmth fluttered across his chest. Sirius had to have ordered these from Honeydukes. Now it was Remus’ time to smile.

“Oh, brilliant! Thanks, Sirius.”

“No problem. Right. I better clear off, then. I can’t handle another detention with Minnie for something as stupid as being late.”

“Right. See you in the dorm then.”

“See ya, Moony. Oh, loved the reading. We should definitely do that again!” Then he walked out the door. Remus’ cheeks flamed crimson. He sank deep into the covers, yanking them over his head. He’s gonna be the death of me.

***

After that visit at the hospital, another strange thing started happening. On several occasions, Remus caught Sirius staring at him, then quickly looking away when their eyes connected. In class, at meals, in the common room as the four of them sat in front of the fireplace doing homework. It made Remus very nervous and a little confused. Furthermore, with James’ upcoming match, Sirius and Remus found themselves alone more often than not. James either had practice or was in the library going over tactics for his team, and Peter loved tagging along. When Sirius and Remus were alone in the dorm, Sirius would usually suggest that Remus read to him. At first, they were in their respective beds, but then Sirius started sneaking onto Remus’ bed as he read. It made Remus’ heart thump every time, because Sirius Black in his bed, well. That was a sight to see. He would lounge on his back, one ankle over the other, hands behind his head, eyes shut, and listen. He never fell asleep. Occasionally, he would laugh or comment on an interesting segment.

One of those times, both of them were on Remus’ bed as Remus read “A Stranger in a Strange Land” by Robert A. Heinlein. Sirius liked the muggle books. He was in his usual disposition, with half of his hair loosely and messily pulled back with a hair tie. Remus adored that look on Sirius. He was sitting cross-legged in level with Sirius’ hips, with the book sprawled onto his lap.

“Hey, got a cig,” Sirius asked as Remus was turning the page.

“Yep.” He used Accio to fetch his rolling equipment from his bedside table, placed the contents on the rizla and performed his spell. It rolled smoothly, the tobacco and filter tucked tightly into the paper. He’d been practising.

“Hey, that’s one thing off your resolutions list,” Sirius said, smiling as he accepted the cigarette. Their fingers touched.

“Well, technically, it’s two, isn’t it...,” Remus trailed off, clearing his throat. Christ, why did I say that?! He could already feel the blood rushing in his ears. Maybe Sirius wouldn’t get the reference... But Sirius pushed himself onto his elbows and peered at him. Remus pretended to pack up his cigarette equipment with intense concentration. Sirius sat all the way up and leaned so close, Remus could feel his breath. Nervousness sparked off goosebumps all over Remus’ skin. He swallowed thickly. Sirius smelled of mint and expensive shampoo. “Moony,” he said, and Remus finally turned to face him. Their noses were less than two centimetres apart. Remus’ heart was hammering against his ribs.

Sirius glanced at his lips, then slowly leaned in and closed the distance. Remus fluttered his eyes shut as adrenaline set his insides ablaze. The kiss was warm and gentle. “Sirius..,” Remus started, but the other boy just connected their lips again, this time kissing him more eagerly, and Remus just gave over. Sirius was letting him know this wasn’t charity; he really wanted it. He licked into Remus’ mouth delicately, grasping the back of his neck to pull him closer. Remus had never had a real tongue kiss before, but Sirius was leading him, and it all came naturally. Without warning, he felt tears burning behind his closed eyes. Remus had never, not even for a moment, let himself get caught up in the idea of Sirius liking him back. He knew rejection would shatter his soul, and he couldn’t let himself be torn apart by his own fantasies. But it wasn’t a fantasy anymore, and Remus was overwhelmed with the relief of letting go. Of finally allowing himself to crave what he'd been pushing down for months. His favourite person wanting him back. He entwined his fingers into Sirius’ hair and kissed him back intensely. They were both breathing heavily, then Sirius placed his other palm on Remus’ upper thigh. A tingling sensation shot up his lower back as he inhaled a long breath through his nose. Sirius was remarkably skilled, Remus noted.

Remus lost all sense of time. He didn’t know how long they kissed, it simultaneously felt like minutes and hours. Suddenly, they leapt apart as steps and chatter echoed on the stairs leading to the dorm. Sirius stood up and hurriedly smoothed down his hair. Remus wiped his lips with the back of his hand and frantically covered his lap with the covers. He was tight in his trousers. Christ. He wondered whether Sirius noticed as the heat blazed his cheeks. Peter and James trudged into the room, still talking.

“Alright lads,” James said, sauntered to his bed and started taking off his Quidditch robes.

Sirius cleared his throat, then said: “Uh, yeah. Brilliant.” His voice came out lower that usual.

"Bloody amazing practice today!"

“Oh, you guys Should have seen them! I could barely keep track of the Quaffle! Ravenclaw hasn’t got a chance,” Peter prattled on, but Remus couldn’t focus. His brain was whirring a thousand miles a minute. Holy shit, was the only coherent sentence his mind could congregate. He could still feel the the ghost of Sirius’ kiss on his lips.

Minutes later, Sirius returned to his usual banter and mucking about with James. If something different was going on inside his head, it didn’t show. A sudden arrow of disappointment and yearning shot through Remus’ chest. Was this just a one-off? His excitement dwindled for a moment, but when he glanced over to Sirius again, he was already looking at him. They smiled at each other. It didn’t matter anyway. Remus felt like this kiss could power his brain for all eternity. It had been like something straight out of a dream.

Part 4 will probably take me a little longer, given that I basically had the first 3 parts drafted when I posted the first one. Also 4 will probs be the last one. Hope you like it so far! :) <3

Part 1 Part 2

53 notes · View notes

develation · 3 years

Text

SCP AU

So @emeraldtrainer1 (Ao3), @writingforfunandbecauseboredom (Ao3), and DarkstarWolf53 (<-Dunno if they have Tumblr) did an SCP AU three-way Convo fic some months ago. I really enjoyed the outline and concept and asked if I could expand on it. With their permission and about a month of research into what the actual SCP Foundation is (and holy cow there is so much, no wonder people are all over this) I've finally managed to get a start on this. There is a decent amount of things that are different from their original Convo (via their permission) but it will basically follow the same storyline that they created. Please go check their Convo out, it's a very long and fun read with a lot of good fluff and Angst mixed in.

I will hopefully be drawing some of my designs soon but for now, writing seems to be the way to go. Here is a link to it on Ao3 -> https://archiveofourown.org/works/33213928/chapters/82464553

I'll also have it below in case you would like to read it on Tumblr instead.

------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Error: (The End Of All But Me.) There are too many unworldly traits that spiders have that I couldn't just not give to Error, so I've kind of combined their Puppetmaster concept to my design. He has 4 arms with clawed fingertips, his tail is prehensile and his jaw can split open. He has 5 tongues still, 2 of them are spear-like, and can shoot out and impale victims. The saliva produced under the tips of the barbs on the two tongues can liquidity a prey items insides so he can drink them up (still a clean freak, using the skin as a cup and drinking up any mess leaving a skin bag behind). His other three tongues are prehensile and can extend to an unknown length, they are barbed aswell but do not carry the venomous saliva. Strings wrap along his bones from his eye sockets, which he uses to create a nest atop the ceiling of his cell.

SCP-002's (Apollyon class) cell is a blank room (it ask for a TV later on) that goes up vertically 2 floors. The top half is required to be shrouded in darkness as it likes voids of either white or black. It has filled the darkness of its cell with a nest of strings that it spends all of its time in, even when feeding. It does not attempt to attack staff, when asked why it replied with, "Not yet." Personal have not been able to decipher what it means by that statement. In an interview via speakers and mics within containment cell, it was asked why SCP-002 stares off at seemingly nothing for extended periods of time and never touches the ground. Subject responded with, "Busy." When asked what it was busy doing- "Watching." When asked what it was watching- "The world. Everything." Due to this experience, it can be concluded that 002 can view any place in the world and perhaps beyond via "screens". These "screens" are unviewable to anyone but 002 and 001 as the latter SCP had called them so, hence their given name. SCP-002 has a strange relationship with SCP-001 and it can not be determined if 002 likes or dislikes 001.

Ink created Error on accident. In the beginning, Ink didn't know what he was doing, and the brutality of Earth's natural forces of destruction were uncontrollable. If he wanted to bring life to his chosen planet he needed a way to control the chaos. And so through the storm, a new force was born. And even if Ink didn't create it, he did wish for it.

Error is a ticking time bomb for extinction. He waits and watches until he decides it's time for a "spring cleaning" and starts his work. The Ordovician, Late Devonian, Permian, Triassic, and Cretaceous mass extinctions were all him. He deemed the human race ready for a "cleaning" a long time ago and Ink agreed with him, ready to see and make something new. But Nightmare threatened the both of them by stating that he would make the earth forever inhabitable and they would have to kill him before he stoped his rage. Nightmare fears that if another extinction event were to occur he'd lose his boys.

Ink: (God doesn't care about what's right or what's wrong. God just wants to watch interesting things happen.) His form is always changing, different traits from different animals and organisms he's created. Ink is basically Gaia. Born when Theia crashed into Earth around 4.5 billion years ago, he made everything that ever existed. Since he's made A LOT of organisms he has a ton of favorites and the traits from them are what mostly show up when he mutates. Sometimes it's Kaprosuchus with belonged snout and fangs. Sometimes it's Tylosaurus with its marine reptilian posterior. Sometimes it's Chital Deer and their antlers. More often than not though, his tail has consistently stated having bristle-like hair at the tip of it, which is basically his brush. The concept of paintbrushes is pretty new to him since the human race has been around for a short time compared to other species, so while he does have one, his tail is his broomie. If his next from doesn't have it then he just uses his hands and his blood.

Ink can't be contained. It's that simple, he just can't. He just sticks around because it's interesting and hilarious to see his creations so intelligent but so stupid. (remember how humans are still young in terms of Earth's age, so the fact that they're so smart... on a thought level that could almost match his own is so very interesting to see and watch. even if there ruining his planet.) The SCP foundation just has to let him do his thing and hope that he doesn't override 003's and 004's decision to not have an extinction event.

His cell is basically a mini-ecosystem, with all of his favorite organisms living within whether they are extinct or not. He loves his little sample of the world and it keeps him in his cell for a good amount of time so the foundation let him have it. If any of them even touch what is HIS without permission then he rips them apart and feeds them to the baby Rhamphorhynchus. Don't touch his babies.

...Cross though... he can touch his babies... and Dream... and maybe Error... That's it though!

SCP-001 (Apollyon Class) is a being older than all living things, despite his toddler-like mannerisms. Even more infuriating, within an interview, 001 openly admitted to being the cause of all SCP's and their anomalous effects. It stated that they were all just mistakes and/or experiments, testing the limits of their own abilities. 001's quoted response- "You don't get it do you? I made everything here! All of your little "SCP's" are just of my creation as all of you. Sure there all mistakes but, it just proves my point that it's time to start over again. A clean slate y'know? Pfft- wow you look mad! If it makes you feel any better, I don't like most of them either. They were cool at first but... it's like flicking black paint over a finished painting. Sure, you can try to get over it but eventually, it will just bother you so much that you just can't stand it! Well... I do kinda want some of them to stay... If I could just convince Ru..." -shows evidence to this conclusion. Termination trials were approved by the 05 Council, though have not been able to start since 001's creation of a barrier around its cell, preventing entry of anything that tries to pass.

[Note: Error, Dream, and Nightmare are not included in what Ink views as "mistakes". Y'know when you're trying something new and you don't know what you’re doing, yet it works somehow. That's them, happy accidents. Ink adores them.]

Ink finds the attempt of Termination trials on him to be absolutely hilarious. The fact that humanity's insecurity about their lifespan and control is so great that they'd try to KILL HIM. Amazing. He can't believe he's managed to make the simultaneously best and worst organism ever.

Dream: (When day breaks.) Again he was accidentally created by Ink’s actions in an intense solar storm. The flare drifting over the earth in combination with Ink’s magic still working to bring life brought him to existence. Dream’s design is almost harpy-like, with beautiful golden, sun-like wings with a small feathery crest atop his skull. Two tail-like feathers sprout from the crest that can rise up and down depending on expression and mood. He also has bird feet and legs, and a tail.

Dream adores all life, his is the warmth and growth of the sun (original form being a ball of light and plasma that literally looks like a mini sun). He is basically like a piece of the sun on earth. His cell is kinda like Ink’s, only in the fact that there are just a couple of animal species. Some deer, birds, and insects mainly. Ink obviously just appeared in his cell one day and made it for him. While Dream could be considered to be a Safe SCP, his ability to damage or completely ruin the planet if inraged prevents that classification.

SCP-003 (Apollyon Class) has proven to be a relatively docile creature. It is elegant in nature (like that of a bird) and shows greater empathy towards all life in general. Unlike SCP’s 001, 002, and 004 who view it as more interesting and admirable, more like a pretty crystal than an actual being with its own consciousness. 003 can not be fully contained and has shown the ability to travel through light rays. Its aura has also shown to be some form of anesthesia, and exposure for prolonged periods causes victims to feel more at peace and calm. 003 does have the capability to travel through the “dreamscape”, what exactly that in tails is unknown.

Dream doesn’t agree with the extinction event thing because the Holocene period hasn’t lasted for nearly as long as it should. On the other hand, he does distaste humanity/monsterkind for all it has done to the planet. Even so, he feels like they deserve more of a chance.

Nightmare: (Does the Black Moon howl?)(Death) Complete with the theme of being Dreams opposite, Nightmare was born from a black moon and the combination of Ink’s magic bringing life to the earth. He isn’t an evil force or anything, just the night to the day. His design is pretty true to OG nightmare, although his legs and feet share the same digitigrade format. His tentacles are more ghostly than slimy and they drip upwards instead of towards the ground. His bones also have a ghost;y wisp to them, but it isn’t that noticeable. Instead of only having a turquoise glint in his magic, there are sparks of purple aswell. (His original form being a black sphere of what looks like smoke).

His cell is basically an entrance to a cave system that Ink had made for him. Inside is a galaxy of crystals and gemstones that glow and sparkle like the night sky. A small stream runs through, the light refracting off of the water, adding to the glow effect. It is a nice calm place for Nightmare to just chill in, his separate own little world.

Nightmare is kind of mysterious, in the realm of Error in which he likes to watch things happen. Just lurking in the shadows, a quiet observer. Though, he wasn’t as fascinated by life as the others. So to prevent his boredom Ink made him a present- Killer. Nightmare hated the little thing at first but it didn’t take too long to grow fond of the little guy. Not too long later Ink pronounced his joy in watching Nightmare sigh in frustration by sending 2 more bundles his way -Dust and Horror- and Nightmare had to threaten Ink to stop before any more joined the fray.

SCP-004 (Apollyon Class) is an entity whose intentions are completely unknown. A mysterious being that chooses to dwell in the cave system 001 made for it. The entity refuses to interact with personal unless in interview. And when it does respond, it does so in riddles and metaphors. It seemingly takes joy asking more questions than the interviewer, turning the conversation in its favor. On such question that has been repeated multiple times - “Does the Black Moon howl?” has puzzled personal. Though 004 states that if answered correctly and explained why, then it will share its secrets with that person and that person only.

004 proves to be uncontainable like its counterparts, able to travel through shadows. SCP’s 012, 032, and 024 seem to be “followers” of 004, and regularly go missing from their cells. Most likely 004’s doing.

[Ink created Killer, Dust, and Horror during the era where dinosaurs were still alive, so they have some traits from them.]

Killer: (War) Was created by Ink for Nightmare to keep him entertained. Killer was born as a baby in Ink’s very hands, a little skeleton with curved blades for hands and digitigrade legs and feet (and little quills on his back). Growing up under Nightmare’s care was an interesting experience, but he thought Kill’s everything he needed to know.

-[SCP-012, Keter]-

Killer is fast, very fast. And he enjoys killing things (what a surprise). He’s pretty much the same cocky boi as always. His more SCP side is that he doesn’t seem to ever feel pain and the black liquid that leaks through his eyes. That can be used as a type of venomous toxin to whatever he pleases.

Dust: (Pestilence) You know Epidexipteryx and Therizinosaurus? Those are Dust hands, long with even longer claws. He can also turn into literal dust, more of a phantom or wraith in nature. He can walk through walls, and turn others to dust and grow himself if he wishes.

He and Horror could be twins since Ink made them both at the same time. Holding his little creations in his arms as they wriggled and whined in confusion at suddenly being alive.

-[SCP-032, Keter]-

Dust is pretty quiet and tame. He has his episodes but he stays pretty much the same as bookwrym’s, writing’s, and Dark’s Dust.

Horror: (Famine) Since Horror is a vent crawler I based his design on that. Horror’s second set of arms are like a praying mantis with an extra joint, hands serrated blades almost like Killer’s. He used to sit in trees and wait for prey to walk underneath him, plucking them from the ground with his long arms and eating them alive.

Same thing when in vents, just waits over the openings and plucks a person off of the ground and into the vent (if personal don’t keep up with his feeding times)

-[SCP-024, Euclid]-

Other than his design Horror is pretty much the same as bookwyrm’s, writing’s, and Dark’s concept.

Outer: [SCP-044, Safe] His stardust makes him have luminescent galaxy and star patterns on his bones. He floats regularly without control over it and can sometimes make other objects float, in rare cases people, aswell. Ink made him a jacket where pieces of its hood and aglets float off like a sort of fluffy foam. The pieces orbit him like planets to a star before joining back, making a continuous cycle.

(And yes writingforFUN, he will still keep his anime sparkling eyelight’s).

Cross: [SCP-00X, Thaumiel] Was created by Dr. X to help contain and terminate Keter SCP’s. Being forced to kill his brother when he turned Keter, not completely in control of his actions. Dr. X’s “programing” making him see his brother no longer as such, just an object to be eliminated. When Cross became uncontrollable Dr. X put wiped his memory without the 05’s or administers permission and an MTF was sent after him that came back empty-handed. Cross was brought back soon enough and had his memory wiped.

They bring him back in as a staff member and that’s when the story kicks off, mostly following bookwyrm’s, writingforFUN, and Dark’s original outline/convo.

(I apologize for any typos)

#undertale au #scp au #writing

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kyloswarstars · 4 years

Text

PETRICHOR Peaky Blinders • Oneshot

Bonnie and you. You and Bonnie. It’s perfect. And then it’s all gone. Grieving is a strange, complicated thing to do and you don’t have a single clue on how to survive without him.

Pairing • Bonnie Gold x Shelby!Reader

Words • 5.4k

Warning • some swear words; mentions of death/murder

A/N • i still cry every time watching that scene; for years i wanted to write some Peaky Blinders fanfiction and out of all the ideas i have, this is the one which burned under my fingernails to be written a few days ago. so here we are.

/////

For once, you felt completely and utterly peaceful. It’s been a long time since you last felt that way. The hectic of accomplishing Peaky business and dealing with Tommy’s tantrums had worn you out. For Tommy it may have been Grace’s death to turn him even more away from the man he once used to be. For you it’s been John Boy’s death three years ago – three fucking years ago already – that turned everything upside down. Sure, before that a lot of deaths happened too and scarily disturbing shit you’ve been involved in, including a lot of eyes cut out by razor blades. But when the first of your siblings was killed – and that it would be only a matter of time when the next will be taken away, maybe even you, who knew – it changed something completely. The Shelby’s weren’t invincible. Never were and never will be, no matter how intensely Tommy tried to make everyone believe it. Not even by the order of the Peaky fucking Blinders.

Right now, though, with this cold airstream on this foggy morning, sitting on the steps of this caravan, wrapped up in a blanket – everything felt okay for a short while.

Last night you had been sitting at the bonfire and enjoyed the warming flames like the couple nights before. Lately you spent more and more time out of the city, trying to escape the business and Tommy’s orders.

They didn’t know. You never told them. All this time you spent with him and no one knew. You didn’t want them to know. The chance of them ruining it all was so fucking high, the only way you saw was hiding it from them. You thought, maybe they would start to worry where you were. Maybe. But they didn’t. So, those nights at the bonfire with him belonged to you two. Occasionally accompanied by his family, but mostly it’s been your nights, chatting away, making out for a while and roasting the rabbits or squirrels over the fire you had hunted during the day.

The fire had been burning brightly, dancing up into the night sky and competing with the stars. The booze in your veins had made you dance along with it, circling it like druids performing a summoning, until raindrops started to extinguish the bonfire. For a moment you looked up to the sky, feeling every raindrop slowly touching your face – then the rain changed its mind and rushed down onto you like someone opened a faucet. He had grabbed your hand and ran to the caravan with you.

His laughter still echoed in your ears as you sat on the steps. It was the only sound you heard in this early hours of the day. No birds had woken, no wind was finding its way through grass and leaves yet. Only his laughter in your ears, igniting a warm feeling in your chest and spreading through your whole body.

The smell of the earth was lingering everywhere. It had been the reason why you woke up so early in the first place. It was the best thing ever, how soil decided to send out this beautiful scent after rain had poured on it. The best thing, after him.

He stirred behind you and got out of the bed. His steps were creaking on the caravan’s wooden flooring. Without any words, he sat down behind you and wrapped his arms around your body.

He rested his chin on your shoulder. „Why are you sitting here, Y/N?“

„Enjoying the woods, Bonnie.“

„How long have you been sitting here?“

You shifted in his arms to meet his eyes. „For a while.“

He tried to pull you even closer to him. Of course he knew what was struggling you. Of course he knew you weren’t only enjoying the woods. The short period of peace slowly faded and made room for the exhausting reality once again.

„I’m sick of it“, you whispered. Back in the day, when the boys came back from war, in your childish mind you thought everything would get better or at least back to normal or to a new normality. It never did. You grew up and with every blink of your eyelids another month passed, full of events that happened at such a fast pace you could hardly understand what was going on most of the times. And then you had met Bonnie and everything stopped for a while. And when the world started to spin again, the speed had slowed down a little. Not much, but enough for you to be able to breathe again.

„I know, my love.“

„Unfortunately, I have to go back“, you mumbled and heard Bonnie sigh. „I need to show my face and get some work done. Can’t stay here forever.“

„You could…“ Bonnie’s warm breath on your neck was giving you shivers. His voice was still raspy from his deep sleep. You loved to wake up next to him. „We could just go away, take the caravan and leave forever, Y/N. Imagine how perfect life would be. Imagine how cute little you’s would be.“

You tried to picture it. Traveling from one place to another with Bonnie, living in the woods and find food in the wilderness. Freezing during winter and warming each other in bed, sweating in the summer and skinny dipping in a lake to cool down. Growing his child in your belly. Giving birth, becoming a family and repeating it over and over again until you two had a whole soccer team. With Bonnie, this idea didn’t feel scary anymore. With Bonnie, everything seemed pretty easy actually. With Bonnie, it always felt like you were running through a field full of wild flowers, brushing against your skin, and making you feel exactly as beautiful as all the blossoms around you.

„Okay“, you agreed, feeling his arms hold onto you even tighter. „I’ll find a way.“ But first you had to go back to sort everything out.

Bonnie hardly ever wanted to let you go. When you got up and tried to get dressed, his hands were all over you and his lips tried to delay your departure. As always, he ‚helped‘ you getting dressed. First, he inspected every piece of clothing, to see if you could really wear it, then delicately put it on you with a lot of fumbling around to expand the time he had with you. The most dangerous part of it all was, when he came to the last piece: the shirt. He made you stretch out your arms over your head and when he pulled it on and the shirt covered your face, he would most likely try to grab and carry you back to the bed. And that is exactly what happened again. You tried to somehow get out of his grip but had to surrender in laughter. He didn’t seem like it at first glance, but he was so incredibly strong, not even the giant Goliath had a chance against him in the end.

„Bonnie, stop it!“ Laughing under his tickle attack, you tried to get your head out of your shirt to see at least what was going on. Instead of accomplishing it on your own, he pulled down your shirt and freed your head. Only to press his lips on yours and make it even harder to want to go back to the city.

„This.“ Kiss. „Is.“ Kiss. „What.“ Kiss. „Will.“ Kiss. „Await.“ Kiss. „You.“ Kinda out of breath, he rested his forehead against yours. He stared down to you, even though in this proximity eyes couldn’t focus anymore. „God, how much I love you, Y/N. Do you even know how much I love you?“

„I don’t know“, you couldn’t suppress your grin, „maybe to the moon and back?“

„No.“ Bonnie’s grin was probably even bigger than yours. „More than that. To every single star in the sky and way beyond what’s in the darkness lurking between them.“

That’s probably the most perfect description of what your love felt for him as well. „I love you, Bonnie.“ Your lips brushed against his briefly. „But I really have to go now. The sooner I go, the sooner I’ll be back and we can go wherever the wind blows us.“

Groaning, he let himself fall next to you on the bed so you could stand up and fix your clothes.

He stood as well, when you reached for the car keys and pulled on your Peaky cap. It was a quick walk to where you had parked the car – Bonnie wouldn’t let go off your hand. And he didn’t let you close the door for a while when you were sat behind the steering wheel.

The birds still didn’t chirp, nor were any other animals being heard. The silence was still there, still granting you some peace, even though it wasn’t the same as on the steps.

„Don’t take too long, okay?“ One hand on the hood, the other on the door, he leaned down to kiss you once more.

„I won’t. I promise“, you smiled. Starting the car, Bonnie softly closed the door and watched you drive off. You saw him getting smaller in the mirror, didn’t really want to leave him, but you would see him soon again. And when that time came, you wouldn’t leave him again.

/////

Parking the car in front of the house on Watery Lane, you already felt uncomfortable being back in the city. Out in the woods everything was so much more easy. Especially with Bonnie by your side. But, this, and only this, would soon be everything you had to care about. The blue sky above your head and a loving Bonnie, who you would share freedom with.

Isiah was making a beeline for you, the second you entered the building. That can’t mean any good. „What’s it, Isiah?“

„Where the fuck have you been?“

„Language! I’m the fucking boss here“, you snarled, not very seriously. He just rolled his eyes with a little smirk. „What did I miss? Short story, please.“

Shelby’s weren’t supposed to do the dirty work anymore. But someone had to supervise those who did the dirty work for the Shelby’s. When Arthur became Chairman, you gladly inherited the job. You couldn’t stand paperwork or all the other serious business stuff, your work field was more physical.

As a teenager, while the Shelby’s tried to consolidate their position within the betting world, you had been part of the razor gang like your other siblings as well, except for Ada. You hadn’t been treated differently, only because you were a girl. You had grown up with them, with the violence, and to be honest: none of them tried to hold you back from taking your spot within the rows as they did with Finn. You wouldn’t have left them.

You were awaiting a ‚normal' report, but what you got was far from normal.

„Well… Finn got shot for the first time and Michael’s back, got married on a ship, was being held captive and knocked up his lady.“

„Are you kidding me?“ That was already too much drama to comprehend for only being back two minutes.

He shook his head, being dead serious. „Oh and Charlie wants you at the yard. Didn’t say anything else.“

„News from Tommy?“

„No.“

Good. That gave you the opportunity to check on Charlie right away. Leaving the house, you chose to walk over. Maybe it would be the last time to do the stroll, who knew. The dirty alleys of Small Heath and their people had been home for all your life. It would be strange to leave it all behind but an adventure would be waiting for you. Bonnie.

People were greeting you on your way, you returned it with a tap to your cap. To be a Shelby wasn’t always bad. You loved being a Shelby. Sometimes, it could just get a little too much for you. Especially after John died and wasn’t there anymore to defuse tensed situations with his silly jokes.

„Charlie?“ Entering his yard, no-one was to be seen at first. Your call was answered soon, though. Curly was running up to you, throwing his arms in the air.

„Yes, Y/N. Yes.“ He was smiling. You always enjoyed Curly’s presence and friendship. „Sorry, sorry, not Charlie needs you, I do. Help me, yes?“

„Of course, Curly. What’s the matter?“ Besides being the dirty-work-supervisor, you also spent a lot of time in Charlie’s yard. Helping them with every sort of work they were going after or just hanging out – sometimes with Finn, trying to maintain your bond.

Curly was returning to the shed he came out of, you followed behind. „I just found them. Couldn’t leave them just like that. Have to take care of them, you know?“ There was an old box, lined with hay, which he knelt down in front of. In it were laying a dozen tiny kittens, meowing in an unrhythmic canon. How cute. Curly just could never see an animal in need. He always took care of them. And more than one time, you had helped him with nursing them back to health.

Promising Curly to organise some milk, you left for the Garrison. It never failed to amuse you, that the noise died down for a moment when a Shelby entered the pub. When they realised you didn’t care for their business, they continued with their chats again. Grabbing some bottles of milk from the back, you went to the office and tried to call Tom. You probably wouldn’t return to the Arrow House tonight and spend it at the yard, just wanted to let him know, but he didn’t answer.

Afternoon and evening was spend trying to feed every kitten some milk. Once you accomplished it and were done with every kitten, the first one cried out for more already.

At some point you must’ve fallen asleep in the shed. When you woke in the middle of the night and returned to Watery Lane, Finn was sitting in the kitchen. „Why are you not at home?“ ‚At home‘ meaning Arrow House you had been living in with Tommy.

„Tommy called. Sit down with me.“ By his foreign facial expression, you feared they somehow found out you were in love with Bonnie. You hadn’t even told Finn, just to make sure. What if they ruined your plans on going away with him? „I wanted it to be me to tell you because–“

„You know of me and Bonnie?“ For a second you were scared that maybe he didn’t find out and now you just revealed it on accident.

„Of course I do. I’m your twin, Y/N.“

„So did the others find out? How mad are they?“

Finn flicked his cigarette into the fireplace and fully turned towards you. He reached out for your hands and took them both. „I told them but this is not what this is about right now.“ Taking a deep breath, he locked eyes with you. „Bonnie was killed today. He’s dead.“

Slipping from this room, you must’ve fallen through the floor and deep down into the ground. You went somewhere dark, where your body couldn’t breathe anymore, your eyes unable to see and your mouth not able to let out the scream that was building up in your throat.

No. Impossible. „This can’t be right. I was there this morning.“

Finn didn’t answer.

He swallowed and got up, wanted to hug you, but you refused. You got up from the chair, stumbled backwards and crashed into the wall. All you could do was stare at him. You were waiting for him to say that he was wrong and Bonnie wasn’t dead. It didn’t happen. His face didn’t light up, it only got darker.

You had a stare down and kept the distance between you because if he came closer, you might’ve started to cry.

When the front door got opened, your attention was drawn away from Finn to the person coming through it: Tommy. The moment you saw him, everything crashed for you. He wouldn’t have come if Finn’s words weren’t true.

Tommy was wordlessly coming over, seemed as if he had been in a rush to get here, but you stumbled away from him, using the wall as guidance. „No!“

„Y/N–“

„NO! Stay away!“ Your heart was starting to pump blood through your veins at an incredibly high speed, it roared in your ears and made your lungs speed up in sync. Hyperventilating and almost sinking to your knees, you didn’t know what to do. What should you do? What could you do? How could Bonnie be gone if you wanted to get back to him as soon as possible?

„Y/N, let us help you, okay?“

„No!“ Still with your arm stretched out in front of you, to keep them away, your mind was running wild on what the fuck to do. „Where is he?“

„Y/N, you can’t go–“

„Where the fuck is he, Thomas!“ Maybe you were waking up everyone on Watery Lane but you couldn’t control the volume of your voice.

„Aberama put him in his caravan–“

Rushing past him to get out, you heard him shout and come after you. „You can’t go and see him.“

Fumbling for the keys in your pocket, Tommy was faster. The last thing you remembered was a sting in your neck, then everything went black as if you fell asleep.

/////

You were soon to understand why Tommy had prevented you from seeing Bonnie that night. He had drugged you so you wouldn’t rush out to the woods and find him like that. Not when you just found out he was dead.

For a whole day you had locked yourself in your old room at Watery Lane. After Tommy told you why and how Bonnie was gone, you couldn’t stand anyone around you without going after their throat, especially Tommy’s. You had just sat on the floor, staring at the wall and tried to understand it but you couldn’t. Not until you saw him. That’s why you told Tommy to go fuck himself, when you finally went downstairs, and drove to the woods you had last seen Bonnie at.

The caravan looked just like you had left it. Climbing the steps, you were scared to open the door.

„Go on in“, you suddenly heard someone speak, startling you. Aberama had appeared from between the trees, holding an axe.

„I’m scared I won’t leave it once I stepped in.“

„You will, Y/N. There’s work we have to do.“ He disappeared again and some thuds were to hear, almost like he was mauling wood.

You opened the door. You stepped in. You found him. And instantly turned your back to him. You started to sob so hard – crying for the first time actually – because looking at him for only a second was devastating. It took some minutes to get in control of the situation and turn to him again.

Bonnie was laying on the bed. Aberama probably didn’t have the strength to clean him yet. He almost didn’t look like himself anymore. Like the handsome, adoring guy with those dark eyes you fell for so hard. The dried blood, brown on his skin, covered all of his face. Eyes were closed. Jaw unnaturally misaligned. A big hole in his head.

Bonnie was crucified. They had been beating him up and hung his body on a cross.

Bonnie was shot in the face. Killed merciless.

Bonnie was a fucking message. To your brother.

„Bonnie, please open your eyes.“ The sobbing started again when you sat down on the bed next to him. His hand still felt the same when you intertwined your fingers with his. The coldness made your crying worse, though. It didn’t stop. You couldn’t and didn’t want to for a while. For a long, long time. Until your body felt completely numb and unable to cry more before you hadn’t refilled it with water. But that didn’t make you leave just like that. Deep down you knew he wouldn’t wake up but you still called his name again and again. You told him to wake up, so you could leave and go wherever you wanted. You wouldn’t waste another day, trying to sort everything out. You didn’t care. All you wanted was him. And he… he was laying there and didn’t wake up.

Following the thuds outside, you found Aberama still slamming an axe to the ground. It wasn’t the ground he was hitting, though. You tripped over your own feet when you realised that the wood to his feet must’ve been the cross.

„Tommy gave me his word that I’m going to kill that Billy Boy scum.“ He stopped in his motions.

„Tommy’s word is as much worth as that scum,“ you huffed and let yourself drop to the cold ground. You didn’t expect an answer or anything else. The night you were told Bonnie was dead was when you lost any expectations. You just stopped caring. Except for one thing. „When… when do you want–“ Unable to finish your sentence, Aberama stopped once again.

„To burn his damn caravan?“ Throwing the axe to the remnants of the cross, he sat down next to you. „Never did I think I had too. Always thought he would burn mine one day.“

Against your assumption your body couldn’t cry anymore tears, it started again. This time leaving out the intense sobbing, though. „Can I help you clean him?“

„I’m not ready.“

„If we wait until we’re ready one day we will never do it, Aberama.“

„You know, Y/N, he was so incredibly happy to have met you. He was my son, so I knew from the moment he came walking up to me, wearing that big grin, that he met someone very special.“ Aberama joined in with the quiet crying. „There was only one thing he wanted more than being the best boxer to ever live.“ Bonnie’s dad placed an arm around your shoulder and pulled you closer to him. „To love you for the rest of his life.“ You totally lost it with his last words, crying your fucking heart out which you were sure would burn with Bonnie in that caravan.

It’s been his sisters that pulled both of you out of your grief. They were bringing water and some fresh cloths.

Cleaning him up, together with his father, was a rather monotonous thing to do. Saying goodbye not so much.

How the fuck were you ever going to say goodbye to him?

Losing Bonnie was unbearable. In the past two years he had brought you more joy than the nineteen years before you fell in love with him. He had learned you to love someone so deeply, it pained to imagine ever being without him. So you never had. Out of all the people, you never thought his time would be up next. How could you switch places with him? You’re a Shelby, why did they not choose you to send a message with?

Leaving Bonnie was like stabbing ten knives into your own lungs. You held your breath when you brushed through his hair one last time. Some tears were falling down to his cold skin when you pressed your lips to his temple one last time. The moment you placed down his hand and stood, gathering the strength to turn your back on him, asked for every small amount of willpower left in your body. Your feet didn’t move further than to the door. You didn’t want to go. You knew he wasn’t there anymore, even though he was so close.

„I love you“, you whispered and then let your eyes slip from his face and opened the door. Every step hurt but you pulled through with it. You didn’t know how or who told him but Finn was standing outside when you exited the caravan.

He took your hand and you let him. Being able to hold onto someone was very much needed when Aberama lit fire under the caravan.

And just like a few nights ago, the fire was winding its way up, dancing into the stars. Bonnie’s words were echoing. To every single star in the sky and way beyond what’s in the darkness lurking between them. That’s where the wind was taking him now. Not to another forest with you together how it should’ve been. No. You drove off, saw him getting smaller in the mirror and just like that, he slipped from your grip forever without you even being aware of it.

/////

For months you wished you wouldn’t have been so good with protection. That maybe, somehow, within the last few times you had slept with him, something of him found its way to stick in this world. That he left behind something, someone, of himself. But he didn’t. There was nothing, no little him or you, that would be left of him. He would never live further than this stupid year of ’29.

It was hard. Every day. Since he was gone there hadn’t been one day where it didn’t feel like his absence tore you apart completely.

You quit work, just couldn’t work under Tommy anymore. You didn’t really know anymore if it was justified, if he could’ve prevented it somehow, but for a long time you found him guilty for Bonnie’s death.

The only one of your family you still talked to was Finn. And only then if it was a nonchalant topic. You didn’t want them to know how broken you, Y/N Shelby, were. And you didn’t want to be around while Tommy was working together with the man who killed Bonnie. That just wasn’t an option at all.

Phantasies about killing this Billy Boy were haunting you. Mostly in your daydreams because the nightmares were filled of Bonnie at a cross or Bonnie with no face. Or the worst: Bonnie still alive. When you dreamed of him being alive and woke from the sleep, you didn’t even stand up that day. Had someone told you a few years ago that love could do something like that to a person, to you, you wouldn’t have believed it in eternity.

The only reason you didn’t leave yet, ignoring Tommy’s deal and went after this McCavern’s life: You felt like it was Aberama’s place to take that bastards life.

For the last months you’ve been staying with Aberama’s family. The only solace you were able to find was with the people that grieved for Bonnie as well. They were beautiful beings, cheering over his life rather than being sorry for losing him. And yes, it helped some, but no, you couldn’t just adept their mentality like that.

When the news came, that the assassination of Oswald Mosley didn’t work, that Aberama was stabbed to death, another time, everything crashed. For a few more days you were able to stay with Aberama’s kids and his sister, then you couldn’t fight the urge to go after McCavern anymore.

You went away only by horse – Bonnie’s horse. With some blankets and the Peaky cap on your head, you made your way up north to Glasgow. The first three days it was only cold, which was endurable. When snow started to fall, it got harder to continue with your route. You spent the nights curled up in your blankets, trying to shelter from the snow under a big tree. None of it could’ve stopped you, though. Your determination was stronger than the weather. So you kept riding, kept freezing in the nights.

On the seventh day, not far away from Glasgow anymore, everything fell into place suddenly. You heard voices. Something had aligned everything perfectly well for you.

Getting of the horse and tying it to a tree, you snuck your way through the bushes to the street. You had followed it in some distance for a while now.

A car was parked on the side, three men tried to fix a tire. One of them was Jimmy McCavern. You had seen him back at Charlie’s yard from afar. No doubt, it was him.

You didn’t expect luck would grant you such an opportunity but there it was. Remaining covered in the bushes, you waited for their discussion about the tire to come to an end. For a second you thought they would start throwing punches but then McCavern ordered the two men, he had travelled with, to go and find the next village and steal a new car. They obeyed his orders and started to walk away.

He watched them leave and muttered some slurs you couldn’t understand. You waited. Until at some point he did, what every man did: pee at a tree.

The snow covered the sound of your steps when you moved out from behind the bushes and crossed the road. After imagining his death for such a long time, in so many different scenarios, it surprised you how calm you actually were. Arthur was always so furious. Tommy so cold. John was a miracle. And Finn… he was just not meant for the Peaky business and that was a good thing. To be honest, you expected to be just like Arthur in this very moment but that wasn’t the case. You creeped up on the man who had killed Bonnie and you couldn’t be more calmer. The fact you would be able to close this chapter in a few seconds was astonishingly relaxing.

He just finished up his business, when you pushed him to the snow covered ground and held him there. You quickly removed his gun and threw it behind you. He didn’t have any other weapons on him.

Bonnie’s boxing lessons had made you a lot stronger, so you turned McCavern around to face him. The swearing, which again you didn’t understand even though being way closer this time, stopped. You didn’t know if he knew who you were or if he was surprised you were a woman. You didn’t give a fuck, though.

„Time’s up“, you hissed. Your full body weight held him down and the arm under his chin prevented him from talking. Slowly, you reached out for your head, grabbed the Peaky cap and revealed the razor blades. That’s when his eyes showed some sort of realisation.

„This is for Bonnie.“

/////

You waited for three days. But nothing changed. You didn’t feel better. Right after taking McCavern’s eyes and cutting his throat open, bleeding to death, you fled from the scene back south as fast as possible. One more death, the one death you had longed for in such a long time and it didn’t change a single thing. Bonnie was still gone, vanished from your life without a possibility to ever get him back. And revenge didn’t change a single thing inside of you. The bleak beast was still eating your insides.

You waited for three weeks. But nothing changed. You went to Aunt Pol, didn’t know where to go anymore or what to do. You told her what you had done. She was grieving for Aberama. She wanted you to stay and you decided to do so. But only a couple hours later you heard her phone Tommy that you were here – so you left again. Still with McCavern’s blood on your razor blades.

When the third month came around, something odd happened. You sat on the steps of your own caravan somewhere in the woods all by yourself. Rain must’ve fallen the previous night because the smell of mother nature rose. It wrapped around you like Bonnie’s arms always used to. Like he did on the day he died. Half a year had passed and nothing changed. You felt guilty, you felt left and lost but the scent of soil filling your nose brought some peace to you. The first time ever since Bonnie was gone.

His laughter still echoed in your ears and his words remained with you, repeating themselves every night before you fell asleep. You knew he wasn’t here anymore but you also knew he would never leave your heart. You wouldn’t let that happen. And that’s when you realised what to do next.

#peaky blinders #fanfiction #imagine #peaky blinders fanfiction #peaky blinders imagine #bonnie gold #peaky blinders bonnie gold #peaky blinders bonnie #bonnie gold x reader #bonnie gold x shelby!reader #bonnie gold x shelby!sister #shelby!reader #shelby!sister #peaky blinders sister #shelby sister #peaky blinders bonnie x reader #bonnie gold fanfiction #bonnie gold imagine #kyloswarstars

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pankows-girl · 4 years

Text

What Happens When Pogues Mack Ch.1 - JJ Maybank

Summary: Y/N finds out she’s pregnant.

Word Count: 2.4K

Warnings: Cursing, pregnancy, angst

Requested: Yes

A/N: i tried to make this as angsty as possible. i hope its somewhat decent because i kept rewriting certain areas. also as usual i was kinda too lazy to go through and edit so there might be a few mistakes. more jj fics to come soon! Part 2 maybe?

[Ch.1] [Ch.2] [Ch.3]

“Wake up, Sleeping Beauty!” You heard right before getting smacked in the face with a pillow. Kie laughed above you, bouncing on the bed next to you.

You groaned in annoyance, grabbing the pillow and throwing it at her. She dodged it and plopped down next to you. “I am never sleeping over at your house again,” You scowled at her jokingly. Kid smiled in response, poking you in the side.

Suddenly your stomach churned and your scowled contorted into a grimace. Kie watched concerned as you jumped off the bed, cradling your stomach and covering your mouth as you ran to the bathroom and lifted the toilet seat before emptying the contents of your stomach in it. Your eyes water and you use one of you hands to hold back your hair and the other to support yourself.

This was the third morning in a row that you woke up sick and you thought it was just the flu or something but now you weren’t so sure. You tried to remember the last time you had gotten your period and came up empty. You were definitely late for it and a million thoughts crossed your mind before you called out for Kie.

“Are you ok, Y/N?” She questioned.

“Shit,” you breathed out beginning to panic. “Kie! Get it here now! Please!”

Kie ran into the bathroom as fast as she could, accidentally kicking the door frame with her foot. “Fuck, shit!” She cried out. “What’s wrong?”

“Kie, I think I might be pregnant,” You said, voice quivering slightly.

She froze in place, whipping her head around to stare at you. Her eyes looked like they were ready to pop out of her head in shock. You looked away from her scrutinizing gaze, feeling ashamed of yourself.

“Ok, don’t freak out. We’ll go get a test so we can be positive. Well hopefully not positive ‘cause you know…” Kie trailed off. You would have laughed at her awkwardness had you not been freaking out.

The two of you rushed to the shop and back to Kiara’s house as fast as possible. You went to the bathroom, holding the bag with the pregnancy test in hand and closed the door behind you for some privacy. You took the box out and opened it.

You stared at the test for a minute before you worked up the courage to get down to business. You pulled down your pants and sat in the toilet ready to pee on the stick and get this whole thing over with. After you finish you wash your hands and set a timer in your phone until the results are ready. You let Kie into the bathroom to wait with you.

The timer went off and your eyes were filled with unshed tears at this point, threatening to spill over at any given moment. You almost couldn’t bring yourself to look, too scared of what the result would be. You stared down at the pregnancy test in your hand. It showed two thin lines that took your breath away and not in a good way. You felt like you were gonna be sick again. Shakily, you passed it to Kie to examine.

Kie took the test in her hands, eyes widening as she looked at the results. “Y/N… It’s positive,” She said, giving you a look of sympathy.

You shook your head, tears in your eyes. You. How could you take care of a baby when you could barely take care of yourself? You started to cry, feeling overwhelmed by the situation. Kie set the test on the counter and pulled you into her arms as tears streamed down your face.

“How are you gonna tell JJ?” Kie asked carefully, knowing the two of you had been ‘sneaking around.’ It wasn’t really a secret between the Pogues that you and JJ were together. They didn’t seem to mind either, despite it breaking the rule of no pogues macking on other pogues, because they knew how much you liked each other and were good for one another.

You sobered up, freezing in Kiara’s embrace. You had no idea how you were going to tell him or how he would react to you being pregnant with his child. You were just kids and could barely even take care of yourselves let alone a baby. JJ already had enough on his plate having to pay off his restitution and avoid his dad's wrath, you were worried how he would take the news.

“I don’t know, Kie,” You sighed. “What if I tell him and he freaks out?”

Kie bites her lip. JJ has never been known to act rationally when it came to such serious things but she also knew how he felt about you. He loved you, anyone could see that. And she just hoped that JJ’s reaction proved it.

Later that day Kiara dropped you off at home and you texted JJ to meet you there. You flopped down on your bed waiting for him to arrive. You and Kiara both agreed that you should tell JJ the news straight up no matter what. There was no point in beating around the bush, especially since soon you wouldn’t be able to hide it after your baby bump started to show.

You were snapped out of your thoughts when you heard tapping on your window. You roll out of bed when you see it's just JJ. You told him to go through the front door since no one else was home but like usual he didn’t listen. His hand brushes against yours as he climbs inside your room and your heart starts to beat so loudly in your chest you’re sure JJ can hear it too.

“Why didn’t you use the door?”

“Sneaking in through your window makes me feel like a badass,” JJ said laughing. He sat down on your bed, patting the seat next to him. “So, you said you had something important to tell me or did you just miss me?”

You ignored his invitation to sit down, biting your lip as you practiced what you were about to say in your head.

“Y/N?” JJ said when you didn’t respond.

“JJ, I’m pregnant.”

You stared at the floor, unable to meet his eyes. He didn’t say anything and you wondered if he had disappeared into thin air. You wished a hold would open up underneath you and swallow you whole or maybe even for another store to come and wash everything away because anything would be better than JJ’s silence.

“Are you sure?” He asks hesitantly and you nod, still not having the courage to look at him. “Fuck. What are we gonna do? We’re just a couple of Pogues who don’t know shit about taking care of a kid.” JJ hopped off the bed and began pacing.

“JJ, hey,” You said, trying to get him to look at you. “It’s fine. We'll be fine.”

“I’m not ready to be a dad, I can’t.” He declared, finally looking at you for the first time since you told him you were pregnant.

“You think that I’m ready to be a mom? Hell no, but it doesn’t mean I can’t do this,” You said hoping to get through to him. “I’m keeping the Baby, JJ.”

“No, no. I can’t do this with you right now. I’m sorry but I have to go.”

You watched JJ as he dashed out of your room. “You’re just gonna walk away like that?” You yelled at his back. “Well fuck you then! I don’t need you!”

He did walk away just like that, slamming your front door behind him. You scoffed, now he wanted to use the fucking door. You heard the door open a moment later and you ran out of your room hoping JJ changed his mind and came back. Instead you saw your mom and younger sister, faces filled with confusion. You didn’t even notice you were crying until your mother had her arms around you, wiping your fallen tears away.

You hugged her back tightly. Your heart was broken into a million pieces, your worst fear had come true when JJ walked out on you. Ever since your dad left you mom for some rich kook woman you had been afraid of the same thing happening to you. JJ knew that too and he still left. Maybe that’s what hurt the most.

“Mom, I’m so sorry,” You cried out. “I didn’t mean to, I swear and h-he, JJ, got upset and he left. Oh my god, he just left.” You cried some more as your mom comforted you. You felt like your throat was closing as you choked on your tears.

“Go get your sister some water,” Your mom told you little sister. “It’s ok, baby. I got you.”

Your sister returned with the water and you drank it all within a matter of seconds as your mother guided you back to your room. She crawled on the bed with you, placing the blanket over you and stroked your hair.

“Mommy, I’m pregnant,” You whispered. You expected her to get mad like JJ did but she didn’t. Instead she wrapped your arms around you and whispered reassurances to you. She said that JJ would come around and it might take some time but to trust him. You really hoped that she was right because you didn’t know what you would do without him.

You cried yourself to sleep that night, grateful for your mom who never left your side until the morning. She gave you some tips on how to help with morning sickness and went to make breakfast for the family. You didn’t feel like getting out of bed or even eating but you forced yourself to get ready for the day. You opened your window, hoping a little fresh air would help get you out of your slump.

You took a quick shower, most of which you spent feeling your tummy, unable to imagine a tiny baby growing inside of you. The hot water felt good on your skin and you wished you never had to get out but of course you did. You threw on a pair of sweats and a t-shirt of JJ’s that he had left over one night. It still smelled like him and it made you want to cry.

When you walked back in your room you saw JJ trying to sneak into your room through the window and it scared the shit out of you. “What the fuck, JJ?”

“Y/N, please hear me out,” JJ pleaded, staring at you. His eyes were filled with determination and you knew he wouldn’t give up without a fight. You crossed your arms in response. “I’m so sorry for how I reacted. I was being fucking stupid and I was scared. You’ve seen how my dad is and I guess I was just afraid I’d end up just like him. I never want my kid to grow up with a deadbeat dad like I did. I wanna be here for you. For our baby.”

Your lip quivered at his confession, feeling heartbroken at the truth about how he felt. From the moment you met JJ you knew he was special and for him to think he could ever be like his father was a punch to the gut. He was the sweetest, kindest person you ever had the pleasure of knowing and you knew with your whole heart that JJ would ever end up like that monster.

“Don’t ever think that of yourself again. You’re going to be a great father,” You sniffled, clutching the material of his shirt in your hand before pulling him into your arms. You clung to him like a baby, your tears wetting his lips as you pulled him into a kiss. JJ had a few tears of his own streaming down his cheeks and you wiped them away, holding JJ’s chin in your hand and turned his face to look at you. “I love you, JJ. I’m so happy you came back.”

“I’m never leaving you again, pretty girl.” JJ murmured. “It was the biggest mistake of my life.”

Your bedroom door creaked open and your mom stuck her head in. “Breakfast is ready if you-,” She started but stopped when she saw JJ. She smiled at you both before giving JJ a look that said ‘you better not hurt my daughter again,’ and closing the door on her way out. She was happy to see the two of you making up. JJ was a good kid and she knew you loved each other very much so for now she would let you be and save the safe sex lecture for later even though now it was far too late for that.

“Does your mom know?” JJ asked nervously.

“Why? Thinking about backing out again?” You teased.

JJ shook his head. “No, not by choice at least. Just want to make sure your mom doesn’t murder. Did you see the death stare she gave me?”

“You’ll be fine,” You laughed, patting his chest.

“I can’t believe we’re gonna have a baby! Our own baby Pogue!” JJ chortled, spinning you around the room. He pulled you into a kiss and you both laughed in excitement.

The next few days that followed consisted of you and JJ telling the rest of the Pogues besides Kiara, who already knew, that you were pregnant. They took it surprisingly well and you figured Kiara might have let something slip so that they had some time to process you and JJ together before freaking out when you told them.

JJ also would not stop saying “damn my baby momma is fine!” any chance he got. He felt immense pride knowing you were carrying his child and he would let the whole world know if he could. He loved you with his whole being and he would continue to for the rest of his life. Not only you, but your child as well. JJ realized that he finally had the chance at the family he always wanted and he knew would do anything he had to make it work. He thought back to when you and him started sneaking around. He was the one who initiated the relationship, breaking the no pogues macking on other pogues rule, not caring about the consequences. He surely didn’t think it was you pregnant but now that he knew what happens when pogues mack, he still didn’t regret a single thing. He was finally happy.

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spookysweet-heart · 3 years

Text

Just Another Runaway?

Parings: Circus!Egos x Fem!Reader

Fandom: Youtuber Egos (Mark, Jack, and Nate)

Warning: Vague mention of abuse

A/N: Hello! I deleted the original work I had because I wanted to change a few things. I hope you all like this new Introduction to this Circus series! The lovely aesthetic I’ll be using for this intro is by the very talented @huffle-princess! Thank you again for letting me use your aesthetics! Edited by @semiproeagle23

Life was never the greatest, you had to admit that. From the screaming, to the fights, the bruises, and tears. The only escape you had from what was supposed to be your home, was the local Gym. A little weird, but they had a gymnastics section in there and that’s where you loved to go.

Your best friend since childhood, Stretch, is the owner's daughter. She goes to the same school you do. You two would always be at the Gym after school for a bit, and you’d always find the time to practice some moves and get a workout done with some of the other girls who were practicing.

Though you would never really join in, you were more off to the side.

Stretch would help you cover up bruises you had that were visible, but you could see it in her face that she was worried about you, though you always told her you were fine and pushed through it.

Those unspoken words you and her shared when she looked at the pain you were in always ended in you running away at the end of the day, but none were successful.

You made plans and sure you were careful to the tiniest detail, perfecting it after each attempt you took.

Failure after failure, you never gave up. The first few times after being brought back home from the cops, you were yelled at, degraded.

It took a couple more years, but once you turned 17, you decided to go through with your new plan you worked so hard on.

Packing up some things in your backpack, you made sure to take everything you needed. You went to school as normal, and hung out with your friends. You weren’t really paying attention to their conversation at lunch till you saw one of them pull out a flier out of her bag.

“What’s that?” You looked over curiously at the piece of paper.

“Haven’t you heard? There’s a traveling Circus coming into town.” You shook your head and Sam smiled at you. “I heard this Circus only pops up for one week in the year.”

Meer rolled her eyes. “So what? You’re saying it like it’s supposed to be scary?”

“Well, it is. I heard each town this Circus goes to at least one kid from the town goes missing and they never see them again. They say the Circus is for the lost souls of the living.” Stretch made a face while making spooky noises.

The whole table burst into laughter. You pointed at the flier and asked. “Where is it going to be?”

“In the middle of the woods two miles away from the abandoned train tracks.” Sam piped up in excitement.

“Wait, how do you know that?” Meer raised an eyebrow, looking confused at her friend.

“Jordan from science said he was in the woods this morning and he saw them set everything up.” Sam said as she took a bite of her food.

“Jordan?! You can’t believe everything that kid says.” Meer looked at Sam like she was joking.

“Why not?” Stretch asked as she slid the flier over to you when she saw you trying to look at it.

“The kid’s kinda weird, like not normal weird.” Meer made a face and took a sip of her juice.

You rolled your eyes and carefully folded the flier, putting it in your bag. “Just because he’s really into science doesn’t make him weird. He just likes what he studies.”

Standing up from the table and making your way to your next class, Stretch stopped you in the hallway. "Hey! Are we still going to the gym after school? You haven't been going the past week and the coach is starting to get worried."

Adjusting your backpack, you gave her a small smile. "Yeah, about that. I just haven't been feeling too well and haven’t been up to going to the gym."

"Is everything okay? (Y/n), your parents aren't-"

"No! No…they aren't, I just haven't been up to going lately. I'm sorry, I have to get to my class."

Right as you started to walk away, she grabbed your arm. "(Y/n), whatever it is you're going through, you can talk to me. You know that, right?"

You nodded and gave her a brighter smile. "Yeah, of course I know. I'll see you around, okay?" Taking back your arm, you headed off to your next class.

------

Towards the end of the day, you had a free period for your last class, so you decided to go look through the school's library. Besides gymnastics, you always loved reading when you were actually home. Scary stories were what you loved to read. Sure, it was a bit childish, but you loved it because you would control the fear and how it affected you.

Your eyes scanned the shelves of many horror novels, comics, and picture books. Though….you noticed one book in particular. It looked a little odd to the rest.

Picking it out, you saw the cover was faded. There were spots of brown and red, the spine was a bit torn, and the pages looked like they could crumble with the lightest touch.

Taking a look at the cover, the faintest words could be made out. "The Circus of Souls….I read that somewhere- no way…" Quickly taking the flier out of your bag, you put it side by side with the book. "They're the same…."

Gently opening the book, you saw drawings of a ringleader in the shadows with a wicked smile. In his hand held a cane with a small orb. His eyes were hidden by the top hat. What looked like red and black smoke surrounded him.

There were images of a magician in a mask with glowing potions in his hands, a man who seemed to be surrounded by purple smoke singing to a crowd. A mystic and dark fortune teller. A man in pink wearing a blindfold and holding knives. And a girl with glowing green eyes standing next to a tiger.

Every page had a story and specific person to it. Staring at the picture of the Ringleader, you were lost in thought when the last bell rang. You jumped as it brought you back to reality.

Looking around and making sure no one was near, you placed the book and flier into your bag heading out of the school as fast as you could.

Holding your bag close, you walked towards the woods, not looking back. You started walking the trail until you turned away from it.

Carefully, you maneuvered your way through the trees and bushes, making your way to the abandoned train tracks.

Moving through a bush, you made it to the other side to where the track was. Looking around at the abandoned train cars, you sat at the edge of the tracks, taking out a water bottle from your backpack. You sighed after taking a sip, and looked up at the sky, seeing it was pretty cloudy out today. Tugging your jacket a bit closer to your body, you decided to explore the cars that were open.

You knew some homeless people used to live in them, but no one ever saw them around much anymore, so you figured it was safe. Climbing into one, you carefully took out your flashlight and looked around. It was mostly dusty and smelled of rotting food and rusted metal.

In the corner of your eye, you thought you saw black smoke outside of the car, but when you turned to it, it wasn't there. "Weird…" Jumping out of the car, you turned off your flashlight and took out the flier again. Examining it, you saw the picture of the Circus Ringleader. His eyes were, again, covered by his hat and what was supposed to be a charming smile actually looked malicious.

Taking a deep breath in, you turned around to see the black smoke just barely disappear again. You raised an eyebrow at this until you heard the faint sound of music. It was something you'd hear from a music box or a children's lullaby.

Before you knew it, your feet were walking towards the distant sound. In your head, you were protesting, but it felt like something else was controlling your movement.

Squeezing through tight areas, climbing and jumping from car to car, you put good use into the years you'd taken gymnastics. Keeping your balance and heart rate at a steady pace, you felt like you were being watched with each move you made.

With the music getting a little louder, you knew you were going the right way. After a while, you found yourself willingly going towards the music instead of fighting back. Curiosity grew with each step, knowing you were that much closer to seeing the source.

Climbing up onto a tree, you hung onto one of the branches by your hands, carefully pulling yourself up to sit on the sturdy branch. In the distance, you saw it. The circus tents, the lights, the music….everything looked so inviting.

Deciding to stick with staying in the trees so you wouldn't be seen, you managed to swing from one branch to another.

As you got closer and closer, you sat on a branch a good distance away. Placing your bag on your, lap you took out the book and looked over at the tents. "This can't be real…" Opening the book again you saw the circus layout was exactly the same.

Flipping through the pages, you saw two acrobat and tightrope walkers. One was in a blue outfit and the other in a green matching outfit, both standing side by side. Flipping through the pages of story and art, something caught your eye.

There was a drawing of four silhouettes, but it felt incomplete. Lightly brushing a finger over one, you thought your eyes were playing tricks when you saw golden specks appear when you did so.

Closing the book, you sighed as you put it away. You jumped a bit when you heard a twig snap from underneath you. Quickly putting a hand over your mouth and bringing your knees closer to you, you tried to hide as best as you could.

"Don't be such a frightened stranger. I'm not gonna hurt ya. But it's no use hiding when I already saw you up there."

Your heart dropped hearing that. The man's words meant no harm, but his tone told a different story.

Glancing down at the figure below, you realized who it was. Carefully, you made your way down the tree and stood a good distance away from the man in the red suit.

“Well, what do we have here? A spectator?” He looked over at your bag and noticed how full it was. His smile grew, making him seem more intimidating. “Ah, just another runaway, I see.” Taking off his top hat, you saw his eyes for the first time. Piercing bright red eyes stared down at you as you took a step back. “Now, now….as I said before, no need to be afraid….yet, at least. Let me introduce myself.” He reached his hand out for you to shake. “My name is Phantom, I’m the ringleader of this Circus here, if you couldn’t tell already.”

Hesitantly, you shook his hand. A shiver ran down your spine when his cold hand touched yours. “N-Nice to meet you…” Taking your hand back, you immediately shoved it into your jacket pocket, surrounding it with warmth.

Phantom stood up straight again and placed his hat on his head. “Tell you what, kid, I’ll give you four free tickets to the Circus Of Souls. They’re valid for the whole week we’re here. You and three of your friends can have all the fun you’d like, my treat.” Reaching into his breast pocket, he pulled out four tickets. He smiled as he handed them to you. “You look like you could use a little fun in your life.”

Taking the tickets, you looked up at the man who now you know as Phantom. “There has to be a catch. You don’t just give tickets away like that…”

Phantom held his stomach as he laughed to himself. “Of course, everything has a price to pay. So what would you pay for happiness, then?”

“If I’m being honest….anything really…”

Phantom started to smile again, but you noticed it was the same wicked smile he had, like the picture in the book. “Anything….interesting.” He looked up at the sky for a moment before he heard someone shout by the big tent. “Well, looks like I have to go. You should get home before it gets dark. The woods are a scary place to be at night. Wouldn’t want you getting hurt now, would we. Go home, I’ll see you soon, (Y/n).”

As he turned away, you looked down at the tickets and looked confused because you never gave him your name….so how did he know it? Just as you looked back up to get his attention again, he was gone.

Tag List:

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