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multi-fandomfuckboy · 8 months

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Stranger Than Fiction

Part 23: Study

Billy Hargrove x Reader (Slowburn)

Part 1,... (Masterlist)...Part 24 (Coming Soon)...

AN: Got it done! This is a LONG one so strap in. Word Count: 6068 Warnings: Language, Suggestive themes

You remain next to Billy for the next two hours. He explains the first section of material to you in a way that makes the whole thing sound like a classic tragedy. You start to see different events as small pieces that fit into the whole flow of the story, when you take a step back it makes thematic sense. It’s interesting to hear Billy speak in a tone other than flirtatious or angry, but when he’s tutoring you he almost sounds professional. After recovering from the initial shock of Billy Hargrove agreeing to tutor you in exchange for free meals, you have to admit he is a pretty good teacher.

Like when it’s clear you don't understand a portion of the chapter he takes the time to explain it within the context of the larger story. And to make sure you’re actually grasping the material he intermittently asks you to explain portions in your own words. The two of you fall into an easy rhythm of work, only falling into hushed silences when Billy thinks he hears movement outside his bedroom. You eventually find yourself interested in learning what happens next. Just like anticipating the next chapter of a story.

When you can hardly get through a sentence without yawning, Billy closes the textbook.

“Alright, no use in studying if you can barely keep your eyes open.” he mumbles, setting the book on his night stand. Glancing at the time you internally curse, it’s already past 11, listening for a moment you note that the rest of the house is completely silent.

“I should get going anyways.” you say, pulling yourself away from Billy. You hadn’t noticed that during the course of your study session you ended up sitting thigh to thigh on the bed, with the book spread between you. Your side feels cold without him next to you.

Scooting to the edge of the bed you gather your bag from the floor and move to stand.You're stopped by Billy’s hand gently grabbing your wrist. Your heart leaps slightly as his fingers hold you in place.

“You can stay if you want.” Billy offers. Your eyes dart to his face, prepared to see his smirk. Instead you are met with his tired gaze, no hint of teasing in his eyes. He rubs a hand over his face, looking as exhausted as you feel. You’re reminded that along with school, Billy also had basketball practice today. You’re filled with guilt knowing that you’ve kept him up so late helping you.

“No, it’s okay.” you say, fully standing. Billy keeps his light grip on your wrist. You know you could pull away if you tried. You’re overly aware of how warm his hand feels against your skin. You chuckle, trying to ignore how your heart is racing. “Is this your lame attempt to get me in bed with you?” You ask jokingly. Billy immediately stands, his grasp moving up to your elbow.

“I’ll sleep on the floor.” The seriousness of his tone stuns you for a moment. Or maybe it’s just hard to focus on anything other than the way he’s gazing down at you, the dim light of the lamp casting shadows over his sharp features. Your heart leaps into your throat at the feeling of his thumb gently grazing the skin inside your arm. Swallowing thickly you search his expression. He looks tired, but his blue eyes are clear. He’s not joking. “It’s the middle of the night. Walking home alone isn’t smart.” He explains, his eyes staying on yours.

For a moment you let yourself imagine staying. Imagine crawling into his bed, under his sheets, knowing that they undoubtedly smell so much like him. Think about Billy only feet away on the floor. Think of being in that space that is so entirely him, surrounded by him. You feel heat creep up your neck, unable to stop a few thoughts from pouring into your mind.

“I-it’s fine Billy, really.” You look away first, unable to hold his penetrating gaze with the thoughts currently wreaking havoc on your mind. “I walk home alone all the time.” you try to minimize his concern, forcing yourself to take a step away from him letting his hand fall from your arm. Turning from him, you grab the empty food container and shove it in your bag.

Billy sighs, rubbing his hand over his face again.

“That doesn't make it any safer Loca.” he insists, sounding slightly more irritated.

“I’m sorry, I must have missed the part where you became concerned with my safety.” you quip, rolling your eyes. “With how you drive, I didn’t know you even knew the meaning of the word ‘safe’.” You tease. Glancing over your shoulder you see the slight upward twitch in his lips.

“I don’t think you have room to talk about my driving. I was lucky that I didn’t have to replace my clutch after you drove my car ONCE.” He shoots back, following you as you head for the window. You can't stop the small smile that pulls at your lips.

“I guess playing it safe isn’t either of your strong suits.” you say, slinging your bag over your shoulder.

“I guess so.” Billy relents, allowing you to flip the lock on the window and pull it open enough for you to slip out. “Still though…�� Billy starts, taking your arm again. This time he pulls it towards him slightly, grabbing a pen from his night stand. “Call this number when you get home.” he instructs, cradling your hand in his as he scribbles a number onto your palm. The feeling of the pen moving swiftly over your skin tickles, sending a shiver down your spine. “Let it ring once and then hang up, just so I know you got home.” He tells you.

“Got it.” you confirm curtly. You curse your body's reaction to his touch. To make it worse, when he finishes writing he brings your hand closer to his face, blowing gently on the ink to make sure it dries. Something swirls deep in your stomach at the action. The feeling of his hand gently holding yours, his warm breath fanning across your palm.

You don’t want it to stop. It’s so quiet between you, it seems like your heart is pounding in your ears. Thankfully Billy doesn't seem to notice the quickening of your pulse or the blush you know is creeping over your entire face.

“That should be good.” he assesses, keeping his eyes on your palm. With your hand still in his, he swipes his thumb over the ink to check it. The swirling in your stomach quickly tightens. You pull your hand out of his.

“Thanks.” you manage to get out, hastily moving to the window, hoping to escape into the darkness before Billy notices how flushed you are. You can’t be sure but you think Billy chuckles lightly as you rush to swing your legs out the window. Placing your palms on the sill to lower yourself to the ground, your toes search for the top of the plastic crate in the dark. You nearly topple off of it as you finally drop down.

“Hey!” Billy whisper-yells down to you, leaning out the window slightly. Looking back to him, you can barely see the smirk pulling over his teeth. “I like my eggs with a little tabasco.” he says with a wink.

You open your mouth to snap back that you’re not a servant, but he clicks his tongue wagging a finger at you.

“Hey now sweetheart, a deal is a deal.” he reminds you, seeming to delight in this new aspect of your relationship.

“Fine.” you grit out, reminding yourself that he is, in fact, doing you a favor. “I’ll see you tomorrow.” you grumble.

“See you then Loca.” He grins, closing the window as you walk into the dark.

The journey home is quick. You seem to be buzzing with electricity. Hyper-aware of the number inked onto your palm. You pick up your pace, trying desperately to stop your mind from wandering back to Billy’s hands on you. He’s been so different since that night, somehow gentler with you. How could someone like him possibly be so gentle?

The memory of Steve’s battered face flashes through your mind. You walk faster.

When you get home you immediately head to the phone dialing the number scrawled on your hand. It rings once and you hang up, just like Billy told you. Then you stumble to your room falling onto your bed, you pass out on top of the covers.

---

The next morning you're woken up by your mom coming home. She comes into your room to check on you because you’re normally up when she comes home. Seeing that you just slept in a bit, she gives you a quick hug and heads to bed.

You make breakfast, packing an extra portion for Billy (not forgetting the hot sauce). Then get started on lunch. You’re not sure what Billy likes to eat so you stick with the basics, packing him exactly what you normally eat. You double his though, rationalizing that he needs more energy because he’s bigger than you and has practice after school.

Finishing with that you turn your attention to getting a few things prepared for dinner. Billy mentioned meatloaf, so that’s probably a good place to start. You skin and dice potatoes, for mashed potatoes. You snap the green beans, setting them in a bag. Finally you pull a pound of ground beef from the freezer placing it in the fridge to thaw.

By the time you finish, Steve is already pulling into the driveway.

His arrival draws your attention to a gaping hole in your plan to pass history with Billy’s help. There is no way in hell Steve is going to let you be alone with Billy for more than a second. Your mind spins as you pack your bag, placing Billy’s portioned food at the top.

As you exit the house and head to Steve’s car, he gives you a sleepy smile that sends a wave of guilt through you. There is no way you can tell him. You know he still has nightmares, it’s one of the many reasons he stays at your place so much. You can’t place this on his mind, he’ll go crazy with worry.

You shove these feelings and all thoughts of Billy into the back of your mind, opening the passenger door. You set your bag on the floor as you slide into your usual seat.

“Morning.” Steve greets you, a yawn cutting off the end of the word.

“Tired?” you ask, buckling your seatbelt. Steve only shrugs, rubbing sleep from his eyes.

“Yea, my parents are both home.” he offers in explanation. You understand the meaning behind his words. He once told you during one of your late night conversations that his parents are hardly ever home at the same time. But when they are it’s like a silent war is being had. Neither of them speaks to the other, only interacting through passive aggressive comments and actions taken to provoke the other. Steve told you that his parents never fight, but he wishes they would. Just for once have them say exactly what is bothering them to bring air into the vacuum or their marriage. He explained that the tension between them puts him on edge most nights they are home and it makes it difficult for him to sleep.

You give him a sympathetic smile.

“If it makes you feel any better, I didn’t get much sleep either.” you say, leaning back in your seat. Steve chuckles as he backs out of the drive.

“Yes, of course knowing that you’re suffering always makes me feel better.” He jokes. You roll your eyes, shoving his shoulder lightly.

It’s so comfortable between you. You enjoy being with Steve. For some reason it’s reassuring to know that through everything the two of you have been through, he still manages to laugh. And somehow make you laugh with him.

“Are you still having those dreams?” he asks. Glancing at him, you catch the worry in his expression even though he keeps his eyes on the road.

“Yea.” you confirm. “It gets harder to remember them though. I just wake up with this weird feeling, like my mind has been somewhere else all night.” you try to explain.

Steve knows about the dark dreams that have prevented you from getting a full nights sleep since you woke up in the hospital. There have been many nights where you have woken Steve up after coming out of one of your dreams. He’s theorized that they have something to do with what happened the night Eleven closed the gate. Like maybe you have some connection with the upside down. Neither of you like talking about it though.

“If you want, I can try to sneak out and stay over tonight.” Steve offers, pulling into his usual spot in the school parking lot. It’s a nice offer and you almost accept it reflexively, but your eyes land on a familiar blue car two spots down.

“That’s okay Steve, I don't want you to get in any trouble with your parents home.” you say, gathering your bag into your lap so you don't have to look him in the eyes when you lie to him. You hear him sigh.

“I doubt they would even notice. They are currently in a “not fight” about my mom buying a persian rug.” You feel another pang of guilt, you hate having to keep Steve out, but there is no way you can study with Billy AND stay home with Steve.

“It will be okay.” you reassure him. “Plus you are always complaining that the cot isn’t as comfortable as your bed.” you remind him.

“Well, it’s not.” he grumbles, reaching into the back for his bag behind your seat. “But I do sleep better at your place.” he adds. You look at him, seeing that he’s still twisted in his seat, his arm stretched behind you to feel for his bag. In this position he’s somewhat leaning into your space. He pauses when your eyes meet.

“I sleep better with you there too.” you admit. “But it’s better in the long run if you don’t get in any trouble.” you explain, keeping your eyes on his. This close to him you can see the slight flush in his face at your words. His throat bobs as he swallows, his gaze flickering over your face before he blicks quickly, finally grabbing his bag and sitting back in his seat.

“Yea, you’re probably right.” he relents.

“And I need a break from your snoring.” you tease, trying to hide your smile when Steve scoffs.

“You must have confused me with some other guy that sleeps on your floor, because I sleep like an angel.” he snaps, looking only slightly offended.

“Whatever you say.” you say, opening your door to climb out into the frigid December air. Steve follows your lead, both of you heading towards the entrance.

“I’ll have you know that I have never once gotten a complaint from any of the girls I’ve slept next to.” Steve defends himself.

“I’m sure they just didn’t want to hurt your feelings.” you continue, unable to hide your smile at his displeased expression, his brows furrowing in indignation.

“I do NOT snore.” he insists.

“Don’t worry. I’m sure one day you will find the nicest girl… who can sleep through a fire alarm.” Steve finally breaks, a smile splitting across his face. He slings his arm over your shoulders to pull you roughly into his side. You laugh, only stumbling half a step as he jostles you slightly.

“You’re such a pain in the ass.” he groans, keeping his arm over your shoulders as you walk through the parking lot. You chuckle at his antics, resisting the initial urge to pull away. You know now that Steve is a very physical person. It’s how he shows affection, with a hug, or a pat on the back, a gentle touch here and there just so you know he’s there with you. It was jarring at first to have someone touch you so casually, but the more it happened the more you came to associate the gentle touches with Steve showing you what good friends you are.

On cold mornings like this, you can’t say you mind the warmth of his arm over your shoulders.

A prickling sensation creeps over your skin before you enter the building. Glancing around, your eyes fall on Billy. He stands next to his car, unmoving, as students file past him to get into the warm building. His eyes are locked on you, watching you with such intensity you wonder what exactly he sees in your expression. The first bell rings, but he remains leaning against his car, waiting.

You suddenly stop, ducking from under Steve’s arm. He immediately turns to you, a question in his eyes.

“I forgot something in your car.” you explain before he can ask. You take a few steps back, trying to keep your smile casual.

“I’ll go with you.” Steve says, taking a step towards you.

“No, it’s okay” you insist, waving him off continuing to walk backwards. “I’ll be quick, you’re going to be late.” you warn. As if to emphasize your point, the second bell rings. “I’ll see you at lunch.” you reassure him, turning to walk back to the car leaving no room for discussion. You glance over your shoulder a moment later to make sure Steve has gone to class. Luckily he has.

You walk in the opposite direction of the flow of students into the building. By the time you reach Steve’s car the parking lot is practically empty, except for you and Billy. You walk past Steve’s car, heading straight to Billy’s. He watches your approach, his expression so carefully bored. A look you’re sure he’s perfected.

“Looking pretty cozy with Harrington this morning.” he says, looking down his nose at you. You ignore how much like his father he looks when he does that. You roll your eyes, slipping your bag off your shoulder to pull out his packed food.

“Don’t tell me you’re jealous, Hargrove?” you ask, extending the containers of food out to him. Instead of taking them, Billy smirks, taking a step towards you. A predatory gleam fills his eyes causing your pulse to spike as you take an impulsive step back. Following you back, Billy’s arms bracket around you as your back connects with the cold metal of his car.

“Jealous of what? Harrington?” Billy asks, his smirk growing wider into a wolfish grin. You hold the containers of food between your bodies like a physical barrier. He leans in closer, watching you so closely you swear he can see the thoughts racing through your mind. “How can I be jealous when I know it was my window you were sneaking into last night.” His voice is low and he’s so close you can smell the peppermint of the gum he’s chewing.

“Do you want the food or not?” you ask, narrowing your eyes at him. You do your best to keep your voice calm, irritated by your body’s response to being this close to him. In an attempt to make room so you can breathe properly, you push the containers into his stomach. Billy just chuckles, it’s like pushing against a solid wall.

Seeming to take mercy on your nerves, Billy lowers his arms, taking the containers in his hands, but does not take a step back.

“I don’t want to be late for class bringing you food every morning.” you tell him. “From now on, meet me outside the bathrooms behind the gym before first period.” you say, doing your best not to inhale the smell of his cologne too deeply.

“Why there?” he asks, looking down at the containers in his hands. “Scared your boyfriend will see you with the competition?” he asks. It sounds like a joke but there is something sharp under his tone.

“Steve’s not my boyfriend, he’s just protective.” you explain, avoiding his question. Billy’s eyes return to yours, pinning you there, he searches your eyes like he will find an answer there. You swallow past the lump in your throat. “I need to get to class.” you say, struggling not to shift under his gaze.

“Alright, fine. I’ll wait by the gym tomorrow.” he confirms, finally taking a step back. You sling your bag over your shoulder walking away quickly, before you can give in to the small part of yourself that wants to stay pressed between him and his car.

---

When you get to history you see Billy has occupied the seat next to you again. You're not too surprised, it makes sense that he would want to sit next to you during the subject he’s tutoring you in. He seems to keep an eye on you through most of the class, leaning over to look at your notes every so often.

When the bell rings to excuse class you pack up your things preparing to head out but before you can stand, Billy steps into your space. He places one hand on your desk and the other on the back of your chair. Your head snaps up to him as he leans down close to your face.

“Bring your notes when you come over tonight, I have a few ideas that might help you retain what you write.” he tells you. His tone is serious, but to anyone watching the two of you it would look like he’s coming onto you. You glance around, seeing a few pairs of eyes on you as your classmates exit. You grit your teeth, giving him a shove which is enough to get him to take a step back giving you space to stand.

“You’re enjoying this too much.” you say, turning to leave, knowing he’s following behind you.

“What’s the matter? Scared people will think you like me?” you can hear the grin in his voice.

“People already think I’m a freak, liking you would just make me look like a masochist.” you explain, making a beeline for your final class. Before you can escape into the classroom, Billy’s arm darts out blocking you. You whip your head to him, glaring at his cocky smile. Your look doesn't seem to phase him as he leans in, practically whispering in your ear.

“I’ll see you tonight.” you grit your teeth, knowing he’s just trying to mess with you. That knowledge does not help the heat pooling in your gut at the feel of his breath against the shell of your ear.

Then he's gone. Taking a deep breath you begin to mentally prepare yourself for whatever is waiting for you tonight.

---

All the mental fortitude in the world could not have prepared you for that night.

Billy is all business. From the moment he helps you crawl through the window to the second he ends your study session. Not one joke or jab intended to make you blush. It’s like he flipped a switch and now his main goal in life is to cram as much history into your brain as possible. You’re partially thankful for that, not sure if you could fully focus with him flustering you.

He doesn't argue when you leave this time, just telling you to call the house again so he knows you’re home.

Wednesday follows the same routine. You meet Billy by the gym before school to give him his food and he’s all charm, invading your space and doing his best to make your face so warm it could serve as a space heater. Then that night he’s back to being professor Billy.

It’s so intense you’re almost sure you’re dealing with two different Billy’s. But you can’t argue with the results. By class on Thursday you actually feel like you’re retaining the information being thrown at you. Granted after three nights of staying up late with Billy you’re having a hard time staying awake in all your classes.

After school on Thursday you finish dinner, say goodbye to your mom and pack your bag to head over to Billy’s. Stepping outside you notice the exceptionally crisp chill in the air. Glancing at the sky you see what look like storm clouds rolling in.

You start walking, knowing that it shouldn't take you too long to get over to Cherry Lane. You keep an eye on the menacing clouds closing in and hope that you will be inside by the time the storm is on you.

Unfortunately snow starts to fall 10 minutes into your journey. It’s alright at first, big fluffy flakes that want to stick to the ground, easily handled by your winter jacket. It doesn't stay that way for long though, soon the flakes turn to rain mixed with sleet as it freezes in the cold atmosphere. You try to run but the combination of snow and rain mix into a dangerous concoction that makes the asphalt slick, threatening to take you down every other step.

You move as quickly as you can, but by the time you reach Billy’s window your hair is plastered to your head, the ends beginning to turn stiff as the water freezes again. Your jacket has kept your torso protected but your jeans are soaked and you lost feeling in your hands and toes a while ago.

Billy meets you at the window, like he was waiting for you. He takes one look at your shivering form before he hauls you through the window, not even giving you a chance to attempt the climb. He grabs your arms and lifts you easily into the room. You can’t even feel the relief of being out of the rain, the cold having numbed most of your body.

“Fuck!” Billy curses, pulling you further into the room as he closes the window. His eyes scan over your in a quick assessment. “Your fucking lips are blue.” he says, he looks pissed but his voice is low and calm.

You try to stutter an explanation but the violent chattering of your teeth cuts you off. Billy doesn't seem to need an explanation, he immediately starts moving. First he grabs a towel from the back of his door and drapes it over your head, hastily twisting your hair into it and piling it on top of your head. He grabs the zipper of your jacket but pauses, his eyes meeting yours, you're shaking so hard it makes it hard to focus on him.

“We need to get all the wet clothes off and put on dry ones.” he explains. His face is so intense, his eyes searching yours, looking for a sign that you understand him. “Focus on your breathing, I’m going to help you change, okay?” he asks, his brows pulling together. You know that he’s right, you’re likely to freeze to death at this rate if you don't get out of what you're wearing.

You manage a nod. He moves quickly, unzipping your jacket and pulling it off your frigid frame. He tosses it in the corner of the room, quickly grabbing the hem of your shirt and lifting it over your head. You’re thankful that he’s helping you because looking at your numb fingers you can barely move them. You don't have the presence of mind to be embarrassed about standing in front of him, shaking, in just your bra, but when he darts behind you to grab a dry sweatshirt your chest tightens. There is a slight pause in his hurried movements and you can feel his eyes on the scars that cover your back. You close your eyes tightly, you have never really let anyone see them, even in locker rooms you keep your back to the wall as much as you can to hide them. You can barely stand to look at them yourself.

Billy pulls the dry sweatshirt over your head, helping you get your arms into the sleeves. You keep your eyes closed, not able to look at him as he unties your shoes, pulling them off of your numb feet with your socks. Quickly unbuttoning your jeans, he peels them off, helping your step out of them and into dry sweatpants.

Being out of the wet clothes helps, but you're still shaking uncontrollably. Opening your eyes again, you see Billy reassessing. His brows are pulled together and his lips are pressed into a firm line while he thinks. Seeming to come to a decision he grabs your arm gently pulling you towards the bed.

“You need to get warm again, get under the blankets.” Billy tells you, there is no room for argument in his tone. You want to protest but another wave of violent shaking urges you forward. You don't fight him as he guides you under the blankets. Burrowing under them, you try to curl tightly into a ball to generate heat but Billy pulling back the blanket again confuses you. You glance up in time to see him strip off his shirt before sliding under the sheets next to you.

Your heart pounds as his arms wrap around you immediately, pulling you against his now bare chest.

“I-I-I’m F-Fin-n-” you try to say, but the moment his warmth starts to seep into you all thoughts of pulling away leave your mind.

“Jesus christ, you feel like ice.” Billy grumbles, beginning to move his hands over your back and arms to generate more heat.

He’s so warm, all you can do is pull yourself closer, your hands curl against his side pressing into his skin. He hisses, the muscles in his stomach contracting away from your touch, only for a moment before he pulls you tighter against him. Your face is pressed against his chest, tucked under his chin, some of the sensation returns to your nose. You borrow your face into him, taking a shaky breath.

Billy continues to run his hands over your shuddering form for what feels like an eternity. All you can focus on is breathing in and out as he gently warms your body with his. Every so often you can hear him grumbling to himself.

“What were you thinking… fucking crazy…I swear to god if you get hypothermia for a fucking history test I will never let you live this down… “ the last one actually makes you chuckle, though it sounds more like a groan with your teeth gritted together.

When the shaking finally stops you are left with a feeling of utter exhaustion. You can finally feel your fingers and toes again but your eyelids feel unbearably heavy. You keep them closed as you take slow steady breaths. You are still pressed against Billy, your legs tangled with his under the sheets, your cheek resting against the muscle between his shoulder and chest.

Being this close to him stirs something low in your gut, seeming to add to the warmth he’s already generating in your body. You have to resist the urge to wiggle against him. He smells so good, like the forest after rain. You know that it’s most likely his cologne but something about it is so undeniably him, and you can’t get enough of it. You unconsciously tilt your head closer causing your lips to gently graze the column of his throat.

You feel him tense under you, his breath catching slightly. You find his reaction to the slight touch interesting. Normally he’s the one making you flustered, so his physical reaction is surprising. This is the closest you’ve ever been to a boy. But there is something inside you urging you to do it again. To press your lips against the thundering pulse in his neck. To see what kind of reaction that would get out of him.

It feels like you're in a dream, surrounded by Billy, in his bed, his arms around you holding you close. You’re so tired of bad dreams, you just want this good one to last a little longer. Without thinking you press closer, your lips gently kissing the smooth skin of his throat.

Billy inhales sharply, his arms going taunt around you. You feel his hands fist into the material of his jacket you’re wearing. When he doesn't push you away, you move your head slightly, your nose grazing along the curve of his jaw. You notice that he tilts his head back slightly, allowing you to place another light kiss to the skin under his ear. His breathing is shallow, you can feel it from where his chest is pressed against yours. Your insides feel molten, pulsing heat through you.

“You should stop.” Billy whispers, his voice is gruff breaking the silence. It shocks you back to reality, breaking whatever spell processed you to act so boldly. Your eyes snap open as the embarrassment and shame slam into you all at once.

“I’m sorry.” you rush to sit up, Billy’s arms falling away from you. “I dont know what- I just- fuck.” you scramble out of the bed, unable to even look at Billy. He was just trying to keep you from freezing to death and you go and practically molest his neck without warning. The embarrassment feels like it's going to swallow you whole and the worst part is there is no escaping. Your only option is back out the window and from the looks of it the rain is still coming down in sheets.

You run a hand through your hair, pulling at the roots slightly. Your mind spins in circles, making it difficult to take full breaths and the room feels like it’s closing in around you.

“Fuck!” you curse under your breath. Your stomach twists unpleasantly and you feel nauseous. What does Billy think of you now? You took advantage of him just now. What could you have possibly been thinking? He literally had to tell you to stop. What kind of monster acts like that?

“Hey, hey, don’t freak out or anything, I didn’t mean it like-” his voice sounds muted in your ears. You still can’t look at him, keeping your back to him. “It’s okay, just calm down, you didn’t do anything wrong.” Billy insists. You wish you could believe him, but nothing about what you did was okay.

“I’m so sorry.” you say again.

“It’s okay. Seriously, it’s fine. Let’s- Let’s just study okay?” He suggests, sounding slightly out of breath.

“What?” you ask. How could he suggest studying after all that?

“You still have an exam tomorrow. Or did the part of your brain that stores lost causes get freezer burn?” he asks pointedly. You see him grab a shirt from the floor out to the corner of your eye. Glancing back at him you watch him quickly pull it over his head. Meeting your eyes evenly he lifts a brow. He doesn't look bothered by what just happened, his face is a bit flushed but other than that he looks unphased. You expected anger, maybe even teasing, but he looks completely serious. You swallow back your initial panic. If Billy is okay with acting like nothing happened then… so are you.

“Grab the textbook and some paper.” Billy instructs gesturing to his desk with one hand. While you grab the book and paper you hear the rustling of sheets as Billy moves to sit up. Heading back to the bed you sit next to him, being sure to keep your distance, noticing that he’s pulled one of his pillows over his lap. Guilt stabs at your mind, knowing that it's likely to keep you off of him. You bite the inside of your cheek and swallow down the apology that rises up in you again.

Billy clears his throat.

“Alright, go to the section we covered in class today. It’s definitely going to be on the exam and I want to make sure you totally grasp the timeline.” he explains, easily slipping into his teaching mode.

He goes over the material, teaching you calmly, just like any other night. If it weren't for the fact that when you finally leave you're still wearing Billy’s clothes, you would have sworn you imagined the whole thing.

AN: I warned you guys it was going to be long! Let me know if you guys liked this! Reader was feeling a bit bold, leave a comment about what you think and what you want to see in the story going forward!

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@myrcellavonswartzschild @awk-sauced

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tweedlydumbtweedlydoo · 2 years

Text

Hostage Situation | Spencer Reid x reader

Requested by anon / Summary: Spencer is protective over his team, especially you and when a rookie officer decides to test his the water with you, Spencer steps in.

A/N: Okay so I don’t know if this was a request or if I had wrote this on my own?? I can’t find the request but i have it was requested by anon on my list. If so, i hope you enjoy x

Tag list is at the end. Let me know if you want to be added xx

Go follow my fic rec blog! ---> @imaginationgonewild0912

**MASTERLIST**

Requests: {OPEN} closed

** Rules for Requesting **

** Who I Write For **

********************************************************************************************NOT MY GIF, CREDIT TO OWNERS

Spencer’s self doubt and self consciousness rose as he saw you’d caught the eye of who he’d say was a particular handsome specimen and was what your type had been in the past. The man was tall, broad shoulders and by the looks of how tight his uniform shirt was, he was rather fit. He was leaned against his desk chewing a piece of gum and a small note pad in his hand, ready to hear the profile you would soon deliver.

This man was the complete opposite of Spencer. Spencer glanced at his tie, running it through his fingers. Seriously Spencer? a tie? He asks himself. He mentally criticizes his wardrobe choice as the rest of the team takes their place, you taking your usual spot by his side.

He watched as the talk dark and handsome officer whispered something to his partner, smirking at you and his partner nodded in agreement. Spencer clears his throat and slips his hands in his pocket as his thoughts swirl. He didn’t deserve someone like you.

As you begin to give the profile to the officers, some nod, listening intently and take notes. You make it only half way before the officer speaks up, raising his hand, “I’m sorry, can you repeat what you said we should look for?”

You give your team the side eye, “Yeah so you all-”

“I was a bit distracted by how beautiful your voice is.”

Spencer could tell by the look on your face, you weren’t impressed, but more annoyed than anything and growing impatient at the time even wasted on this short conversation. This was a time sensitive case and you had no time to deal with officers on their high horse.

“This is a time sensitive case and we have been asked by your chief to help and she has given us full reign. Including over her officers. So, I’m more than capable of kicking you off this case if you decide being a bloke is more important than the 5 year old girl missing.”

A surge of pride rolled through him. That. That was the woman he’d fallen for. You wouldn’t take any shit from anyone. You stood your ground tall and strong, even if the other side towered over you by feet. The feelings of self doubt slide off him like water over plastic. This wasn’t the type of guy you were into anymore.

He and the rest of the team had to hide their laughs with a cough. Some of the other officers let out a chuckle. Spencer cleared his throat, a smile on his lips, which he tried to cover with his fingers.

The guy blushed a deep shade of red, full of embarrassment. He wasn’t one to be shown up; especially by a young woman.

“Right, well, like she said, everyone has their jobs.” Rossi steps in and soon the place clears out.

It had been a long day. The leads you all had been following were dead ends and at the moment, you were lost. No idea where to begin the search. You take a deep breath and lean against the break room counter. You and your team were exhausted and the time to save the little girl was running out. 24 hours is the usual cut off and if you haven’t found her by then, the odds decline tremendously.

“You good?”

You glance up to see Spencer approaching you. “Yeah,” You sighed, “Just tired.”

“Coffee?” he motions to the coffee maker, “I’ll make some fresh.”

You nod, “I think we’re going to need it.” You turn around and lean against your elbows, your forehead resting in your hands, “We’re running out of time.”

“Garcia’s working on a lead now-” Before Spencer could even finish his sentence, Rossi called in everyone. There was a break in the case and a new solid lead to follow.

“sorry about the coffee.” Spencer apologizes as he follows you out of the break room.

“Make it up to me later?” You tease, “Maybe you could buy me a cup of coffee after this case was over?” You suggest, “I really like-”

“Brooklyn on Main, iced caramel latte. extra caramel” Spencer finishes with a small grin. He knew your order by heart.

You nod, impressed with a small smile on your face as you enter the SUV.

When you and the team arrive at the old building, the officers are standing by, ready for the instructions.

You and the rest of the team tighten your vests in place and instruct the officers to stay behind you and the team. They are to follow strict orders and do things your way or else it could end in disaster.

The rookie cop was the first to speak up against the orders, “Why can’t we storm the place? Surround it, shoot the guy and save the girl.”

“We have no confirmation the girl is even in there with him. She could be at a secondary location and killing him could put her in danger. We wouldn’t have any idea where she could be.” JJ tell him.

You can see on his face he doesn’t approve of the orders, “He’s to be taken in a live. Everyone understand?”

The officers agree and begin following you and your team inside. That’s when everything went wrong. There was gun fire everywhere. There was more than one person like expected and soon bullets were flying from every angle.

Trying to escape the rookie cop trampled you, sending you flying into a room where the bullets were then aimed at you. You’d hit your head in the fall and couldn’t ground yourself as the world spun. Before you could react, someone had grabbed your foot and was dragging you across the cement floor.

When your eyes finally adjust, standing above you is two men with very large guns aimed at you. You were in deep deep trouble.

Spencer had seen the whole thing go down and before he could get to you, the team grabbed him and retreated out of the house, outnumbered and unprepared. “Stop! Stop! Y/n’s still in there!” He tried to protest but the ones that grabbed him had won.

“Where is agent y/n?” Rossi asks, looking back toward the building and at Spencer.

Spencer fills with anger and rage as he sees the Rookie cop, the one who had pushed you into the line of fire. “What the hell is wrong with you!” He stormed the man, grabbing him by his vest and throwing him against the nearby van, “You threw her into the line of fire!”

“What? Dude are you crazy, let me go!”

“She could be dead because of you!” Spencer yells. Rossi and JJ grab Spencer, “Spence calm down!”

“You’re psycho man! She was shot!” The rookie tries to defend himself with a lie, “I saw her go down!”

“no. she wasn’t, you pushed her to get out of the way, I saw it happen.” Rossi practically drags Spencer away, “Spencer, talk to us, what happened?”

“The coward pushed her to get out of the way so he could get out of there, but he pushed her right into the line of fire. Into the room where they were” Spencer tells Rossi and JJ, and now Emily who has just approached.

“He said she was shot, she went down.” Rossi says.

“No, Rossi. I watched it happen with my own eyes.”

Rossi knows you’re a great agent and knows Spencer wouldn’t lie. If Spencer saw it happen, then it happened. And that’s one of his agents in there. No agent would be left behind. “Damn it.” Rossi looks to the building, knowing the situation they are now in.

Emily catches on as well, “We now have a hostage situation.”

Comments likes and reblogs are always appreciated Thanks for reading! xx

#spencer reid #spencer reid imagine #spencer reid imagines #spencer reid x #spencer reid x you #spencer reid x y/n #spencer reid reader insert #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid x reader fic #spencer reid fanfiction #spencer reid fanfic #Spencer Reid fic #criminal minds fanfic #Criminal Minds Fanfiction #criminal minds fic #criminal minds imagines #criminal minds imagine

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daisydoesfanfics · 1 year

Text

|Confession|

Kaveh x fem!reader

Description: Kaveh, your best friend, has been crushing on you since your school days. Alhaitham had enough of him ranting about you so he pushes Kaveh to confess.

Genre: Fluff, romance, friend to lovers

Warning: None (pls let me know if there are any)

A/N: OKAY SO, it's been a while. My school year is almost ending and I finally have some motivation. (Definitely didn't have a wheel decide this for me...) Enjoy!!!

Does Kaveh like you? That's an understatement, he loves you. For how long? Longer than he could imagine. He first thought that you were just nice to him, nothing special. So he returned the favour, because that's what friends do, right? He then started falling for how sweet and beautiful you are. He brushed the thought off, thinking that it was just a silly crush. But he started getting jealous when other scholars flirted with you. He started thinking about you 24/7. He started day dreaming about you. Kaveh knew that he didn't just like you, you were his everything. You understood him so well, better than anyone else could.

Alhaitham groaned as he listened to Kaveh complain. "And he even winked at her!!" Kaveh practically yelled from across the table. Alhaitham rolled his eyes, not putting his book down. "Worst part is, she blushed! She blushed!! Do you know what that means?!" Kaveh was telling Alhaitham about the events earlier that morning. Long story short, a store owner was flirting with you. "Hey, are you even listening??" Kaveh asked in an annoyed tone. Alhaitham put his book down and looked at Kaveh seriously. "Kaveh, she was just flustered. Anyone can blush at that, even if they don't like the person." Alhaitham sighed. "Just confess to her already." Kaveh's eyes widened at Alhaitham's suggestion. "No! What if she rejects me?" "What if she doesn't?" Kaveh slumped in his chair. Fine, he'll confess.

As you were doing your paperwork, you received a message from Kaveh.

'Hey, can we have dinner later? I want to hang out with you!'

You smiled and picked up your phone and replied with a short: 'Sure! I'll see you there at 6 pm.'

A few hours went by and you decided to get dressed for your meet up with Kaveh. You picked a simple outfit (I'll leave this to your imagination.) Kaveh on the other hand was panicking. How was he going to confess? What will he do if you say if you didn't feel the same way? Alhaitham tried to calm him down and reassure him. (It didn't work.) Kaveh rushed to the restaurant 10 minutes before the agreed time. He waited a few minutes and when he heard your soft voice calling out to him, he couldn't help but feel giddy yet nervous at the same time.

"Kaveh!!" You said sweetly before sitting down across from him.

"Miya, wow... You look... Great." He smiled shyly. A thin tension is felt in the air as you both stayed silent for a while. He finally speaks up, clearing his throat. "So, let's order? I'll pay this time." He took two menus and gave one to you. "Am I dreaming or are you actually going to pay?" You laughed before opening the menu. "I'm kidding. Anyways... I'll have pasta. How about you?" Kaveh blushed a bit at your teasing before answering. "I'll have steak." The waiter soon comes and collects your orders.

The next few minutes were filled with you two laughing and catching up with each other. The nervousness and anxiety he had earlier was now gone as he was more comfortable. The food was given to you both and it was delicious. The restaurant light glowed a faint yellow, setting a calm and somewhat romantic mood. You two talked more about work, the past, and other useless stuff.

"Oh, it's getting late now." You glanced at your watch. "You're right. How about I walk you home?" Kaveh offered. You nodded and smiled. You both stood up and gathered your stuff. As you two were walking to your house, you notice him being a bit more silent than usual.

"Are you alright, Kaveh?" You stopped walking on the sidewalk. Kaveh sighed before turning to you. "I can only do this now, so I have to make it worth it. I love you, Y/N... I've loved you for so long now. Your hair, your smile, your kindness, your eyes, your lips... Everything about you is so intoxicating in the best way." Kaveh's confession caused you to slightly open your mouth in surprise. "Kaveh..." Before you could finish talking, he intreupted you. "It's okay if you don't feel the same way. I just had to tell you..." You grabbed his hands and held them in such a soft and secure way that it made him feel so safe. "I love you too. I just never told you because... I was scared... And I-" Kaveh intreupted you once more, but this time not with words but with a soft kiss.

There you both were, holding each other passionately and lovingly in the dim light of the street lamp. How perfect~

#fanfic #fiction #genshin impact #genshin impact x reader #kaveh x reader #kaveh x y/n #kaveh headcanons #kaveh x you #gi kaveh #kaveh fluff #kaveh fanfiction #genshin impact fluff #fluff #kaveh #love #romance

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gumpistol · 1 month

Note

❤️ + enruiinas

Send ❤️ + a URL and I’ll write something nice about them/their blog!

♪ never gonna give you up! never gonna let you doown! ♪

this is me, hanging onto dear life and clinging to saro whether she likes it or not! she is my ride or die, my brain twin, a fellow member of the AAA ( aro ace audhd ) club! i have so many things to say about her and how much she means to me, it hurts my brain trying to figure out where to start! but knowing me, it will be long, so buckle up buttercup~

i will never forget our first interaction: i filled out her interest tracker, she came to my discord dms, and i swear we barely stopped talking with each other for the next 24 hours. when i had only known her for a day, it felt like we had been friends for years!! i still don't know what to make of that, but i don't think i've ever clicked with someone that fast. but the rest is history, and now we have so many threads in various verses together!

seriously, saro has such a massive brain with so many interests and thoughts and a desire to consume knowledge like i inhale a bucket of popcorn. she is one of the easiest people to talk to and bounce ideas off of. a good chunk of my character and story development for luffy ( and others ) are thanks to her picking my brain and asking the difficult character questions! she's excited to talk new ideas and what-ifs, and LOVES enabling me to write new muses. it is because of her that i ever started writing rosinante, robin, and penguin over on my multi~

outside of writing though, she always makes me feel more excited to share and talk about my interests, including OP trading cards and my science-y rambles. SPEAKING OF! she loves me SO MUCH that today, despite hating making phone calls, she called her local card shop to see if they had a set of cards that i wanted!! as someone who also hates making phone calls, that is true fucking friend behavior right there ♡

she really is quick to think about her friends. it could be the little things, like when she saves manga panels of unique luffy faces for me that i might not have yet, sends art of our muses, shares writing resources, or even just suggests reading the same science articles or listening to the same ologies episode together. she's also an excellent listener who gives meaningful words of encouragement, who refers back to things in conversation that i maybe said months ago, and who is a huge help when it comes to getting my brain unstuck on threads.

i haven't even touched on her writing and her Law portrayal though! when i say she puts SO MUCH work into doing him justice, i absolutely mean it. she analyzes even the smallest details, and her brain worms when she talks about him and his relationships are infectious. she got me so invested that she is the sole reason lawbin is now one of my favorite ships. she is the reason i put so much time and effort into a side character like penguin. and she is why i put so much stock into law and luffy's friendship. i. am. hooked.

and i know she gets a little worried about the length of her writing sometimes, but the waiting period is worth it. the quality of saro's writing is so organic and it flows like reading a good novel. i'm convinced at this point that i could come to her with any sort of thread or verse idea and she could weave it into a beautiful story. god i'm so stupidly eager to write with her always!!

anyway, i wrote so much, but such is the nature of anything we write for each other. there's a lot that i didn't even get around to talking about, but in summary, saro is incredibly kind, fun, and so brilliant it makes me want to SCREAM! i love her a lot, she is one of my best friends ( if she disagrees then too bad ), and i'm incredibly happy that i get to be her friend :)

sent by: @mingos for: @enruiinas

#enruiinas #mingos #long post cw #❝ its not like ‘thanks’ are something i can eat ❞ — answered #❝ adhd thought dump ❞ — ooc #sorry not sorry for how long this got #the first mistake was putting saro's url in my inbox #i will not shut up about the bestie

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mermaidmelodyedits · 2 years

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Return to the Sea (Older Mel AU) Ch.17

Author Notes: This fanfic is a retelling of The Little Mermaid 2 Return to the Sea but with Melody at 19 instead of 12. This fanfic was originally posted on my deviantart, and as of 5-15-22 it HAS FINISHED WITH A PROLOGUE AND 24 CHAPTERS. You can also find it on fanfiction.net where it also has all 24 chapters and the prologue. I’ll be posting a new chapter to tumblr every week on Saturday, so look forward to that. Thanks for reading! Story starts below

P.S. Sequel Started on 6-15-22!

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

Chapter 17: Nothing is as it Seems

It took an agonizingly slow day of swimming in chilly waters to finally get to the lair. Manta rays don’t exactly swim fast, keeping a constant snail's pace as they glider over the sea floor. Ariel and Flounder also needed to distance themselves away to keep from being spotted, and neither of them were willing to speak and blow their cover. Thus a slow silent day of tracking bore on, Ariel praying her hunch was right.

And after all those hours, it had been. Ariel and Flounder were hiding behind ice as they watched the two mantas swim behind glaciers and into a secret entrance of ice caverns.

Ariel kept her eyes focused on the entrance, and waved Flounder off over her shoulder.

“Flounder, you need to swim back as fast as you can and tell my father. I'll try to find Melody.”

Flounder whisper protested, “Oh, but if that old sea witch is in there, and then there's that mean little shark...and then those manta rays come, and she can use magic!”

With a gulp he used his firmest voice possible, “Uh-uh, no way you're goin' in there alone.”

Ariel was slightly surprised by Flounder’s response, he had matured so much since the guppy she remembered. She instantly imagined him scolding his children in the same tone he just used on her.

“But, Flounder, if we both go… who's going to tell Daddy where Morgana's lair is?”

A loud voice interrupted and prevented Flounder from replying. A seagull who somehow could follow Ariel’s location for hundreds of miles underwater, yet fail to understand a simple conversation.

“Say, what's all the whisperin' about? Is Melody around here? Did you find her yet? If she's…”

“Scuttle! Get down and be quiet!”

Ariel instinctually clamped her hand around his bill and yanked him in close. A tactic she used to prevent him from talking and force him to keep his focus on her.

“Wait a minute…Flounder, Scuttle can help!”

Flounder seemed unimpressed, “he can?”

“Of course he can!” Ariel was smiling for the first time in what felt like forever.

The bird glanced at her in confusion, “I can? Er, I mean of course I can!”

Ariel grabbed the bird's bill again and forced him to look her right in the eye, “Scuttle, listen very carefully.”

Flounder groaned again, “We’re doomed…”

The journey back to Morgana’s lair was much quicker than the journey out. Besides the fast potions she had sent, Undertow the piranha lacked an ounce of patience. The girls seriously debated ditching him and figuring out the way on their own, but Lily had never been to the ice fields and they were sure to get hopelessly lost.

Besides the rush, Undertow would not shut up about the trident at every second. He even attempted to grab it himself at one point, only to be mercilessly zapped. Learning nothing, he then begged Melody to use it on him.

His insistent pestering of her friend finally caused Lily to snap, “Why are you so desperate to use the trident anyway?”

With an eye roll Undertow replied, “That stupid king laid a curse on me almost twenty years ago small fry, I actually used to be a shark! Betcha didn’t expect that.”

Lily and Melody shared a doubting look, which Undertow didn’t let go unnoticed. “Believe it or not, it’s no scales off my tail.”

Melody had heard many things about the king, and a curse was certainly something she hadn’t heard before. Although based on everything she had seen and heard so far, it didn’t seem so far-fetched.

Melody felt a surge of pity, and swam up next to the little fish. “Why didn’t Morgana ever change you back herself?”

Undertow sighed, “Oh she tried, trust me did she try. But transformation magic isn’t her speciality…”

Melody furrowed her thick eyebrows in confusion, “What? But she turned me into a mermaid?”

Lily joined her friend, “Yeah, how is that not transformation magic?”

“That was, but it wasn’t her magic. It was her sister’s, Ursula. She specialized in transformations, and potions. That was the last of it she had, I begged her to use it on me but she insisted on saving it…”

There was silence for a few moments as the girls processed what he said.

Melody spoke up quietly, meant only for herself and Lily to hear “Then why did she save it for me… a stranger?”

Lily locked eyes with her friend and then directed her gaze to the gold trident in Melody’s hands.

By the time they had arrived, Melody wasn’t really sure what to believe or think anymore. All she knew for sure was that Lily had her back, and that was the only person she could completely trust. The Princess would be utterly alone right now if it wasn’t for her best friend, and she thanked the stars for having her.

The witch had appeared so generous at first, never even asked Melody outright to go after the trident. Yet there were details that weren’t adding up, hinting that nothing was as it seemed.

So when they finally made it into Morgana's ice caverns, a thousand questions rested on the tip of both of the girl’s tongues.

A sweet honeyed voice rang through the open space, “Oh, my darling I was so worried about you. I should have never doubted, you’ve returned and even managed to bring back my family’s precious heirloom! What a clever girl.”

Lily’s eyes darted everywhere, trying to take in every detail of their surroundings. A sick feeling had been building inside of her, and she instinctually huddled into Melody.

“Morgana, I-”

A familiar shriek ripped through the water, “MELODY DON’T!”

An all too familiar anxiety exploded in Melody’s heart, “Mom…?”

Her mother floated there before her at the cave’s entrance. Melody couldn’t remember the last time she had seen her mother’s fiery red hair not immaculately done up, jewels or a crown adorning her perfect head. She hadn’t realized how long it was, hovering like a cloud in the water around the Queen’s face. This was also likely the first time Melody had ever seen her mother in something besides a gown or dress. This woman wore a purple seashell top, and a glittering emerald tail with minty translucent fins.

All of this made the Queen almost unrecognizable, but no one could ever forget Ariel’s unique beauty. Everything told Melody that this was in fact her mom, her voice, her face, her bright hair, but how could it be?

The two women locked eyes, and Lily couldn’t help but hear the similarities in their stunned breathy voices.

“You’re… You’re a mermaid?”

Behind Ariel a larger fish appeared, yellow with blue fins and eyes. Lily began to have the exact stunned experience she had just seen Melody go through.

“Dad?!”

Melody’s eyes drifted to the fish, his face immediately contorted from fear, to shock, to rage.

“Lilian?! What in the sharks are you doing here?!”

Melody’s brain could barely process everything happening at once, and before Lily could reply Morgana interrupted them all.

“Ariel… How nice of you to come. You even brought your little friend, Flopper.”

Melody hadn’t heard this tone of voice from the witch before, like the sweet honeyed words had been converted to poison. Yet she still held the same wide, happy, and welcoming expression she always wore.

The fish quickly snapped back, “The name is Flounder.”

Undertow wasted no time ramming into Flounder full force, nearly identical to how he sent Lily flying only a few days ago with his appearance. Although Flounder was twice the piranha's size, and barely budged.

“Grr yourself pipsquek.” Flounder hissed back.

Undertow stabbed a fin into Flounder’s chest, “I used to eat fish like you for breakfast everyday.”

Morgana glided to Melody’s side, resting a reassuring hand on the Princess’s shoulder. The two girls huddle into each other even further, and Melody locked eyes again with her mother.

The pain in her voice was palpable to everyone in the room, cracking as she spoke.

“All this time… and you never told me?”

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poetsdepartment · 11 months

Text

more thoughts on taylor x m/tty because i literally have not been able to think about much else for the last 24 hours

as prep for tour, i try and relisten to albums on loop to get extra hype and give love to songs that i don’t usually listen to. yesterday, i literally couldn’t get through the first three songs on fearless. fearless is one of my favorite songs of all time, and when it started at the top of the album, i was just filled with this deep sadness of “what if the girl who wrote this song has grown into a woman who can overlook racism, antisemitism, misogyny, etc. in a guy because she’s attracted to him? what if she could sing this song ABOUT him?” it felt so disgusting.

i truly cannot control my sadness at this whole thing. m/tty is just so disgusting, there’s so many sources out there. this situation is really showing all of taylor’s worst sides. someone who is willing to overlook not flaws, but signs of hatred and an overt wielding of privilege, because she is in a “hard time.” someone who is unable to listen to legitimate, triple-checked sources proving someone she knows is the dirt of the earth, just because she has had tabloids overexaggerate her flaws before. someone who claims she owes everything to her fans but has overlooked how someone’s presence in her circle could cause them to feel unsafe. someone who swore she’d start “speaking up,” just to only abide by social justice pedagogy when it benefits her. the performative anglo-saxon feminism is really being seen, and in a way that goes beyond “you are no more privileged and out-of-touch than other celebrities” to “you are actively making choices that reflect poorly on your character and make people question your morals.”

most all criticisms to this point have been situations we’ve been able to joke about to some extent, because again, she was getting more than other celebrities for doing the exact same thing. that doesn’t mean it’s ok, but it means it isn’t something taylor herself can take down. should taylor be using a private jet if she cares about carbon emissions? probably not. but it’s not like she’ll ever use anything in comparison to massive corporations.

still, since that moment, i’ve been backpedaling on the idea of stanning in general. just because i will never know taylor fully, and started thinking defending her for just about everything well, isn’t healthy. it’s ok to move away from someone when they do things you disagree with.

but m/tty feels different, because this is something she has 100% autonomy over. and she’s literally endorsing the character of someone who she should be running from! there are no caveats. not even the “she’s backsliding” or “she’s rebounding.” rebound with someone else if you do not want to be questioned for your morals. she has one of the largest dating pools in the world. i don’t care what personality flaws she has of running back to toxic guys. i don’t care if this is just a blip. i don’t care. taylor knows how to cut a problematic person out of her life and m/tty should be out of her circle. not every bit of bad press is an exaggeration or untrue. the way you know someone intimately does not undo the ways they have caused harm publicly. it is okay to make mistakes. but she is 33 and has internet access and a brain and heart. and if her heart has the values she claims that is has, she should not be giving m/tty any room to be close to her at this moment, with the way he is right now. she should not be okay to get papped with him. she should not be okay bringing him to shows, knowing his onstage “persona,” knowing he could harm people in the audience.

taylor, seriously, what are you doing?

#taylor #music

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wrenqueenisboss · 2 years

Text

Fake-ish Parents — p!philza x f!reader

warnings: cursing (mild), insomnia, mental health, self-destructive behavior, relapsing (mentioned) characters: philza, mumza words: 931

you groaned as you looked at the time on your computer screen.

4:32 am

you had been up for way too many hours. editing, procrastinating, watching YouTube, watching your friends' VODs, criticizing your own VODs, and just listening to music.

but you were battling your insomnia.

insomnia: habitual sleeplessness; inability to sleep

it explained your behavior perfectly. sadly, you hadn't gotten a good nights' rest in over three months. your life a a streamer had taken over and honestly... it had become a cycle. you had gotten so used to staying up late that you began to fill the time, making things worse.

and it was getting seriously unhealthy. you had passed out twice on stream in the past month. chat went apeshit with concern and your friends refused to not be on call with you 24/7. you did manage to let them give you space; they eventually calmed down.

but the person who had been working to help you the most was Philza. every day, he had messaged you:

how's you day been?

how are you?

did you get enough sleep? (which quickly turned into: how many hours of sleep did you get?)

are you taking care of yourself?

and sometimes, the answers wouldn't be great. sometimes, you'd get four hours of sleep three days in a row... before relapsing into only one and a half- sometimes two. when that did happen, he was never angry with you. he simply wanted to make sure you were okay.

"if you ever need anything, just call, y/n," he always said. after every stream, every call, he'd always say it. and that warmed your heart.

so tonight, as you stare at the ceiling, you debate calling him. tears fall slowly down your cheeks. tears of frustration. because why can't you do better? why can't you take better care of yourself? why can't you stop being a burden?

but Philza's words ring through your brain. you know he would be proud when he finds out his daily mantras help.

you pick up the phone that's sitting next to you. press "call" next to Phil's name. and you take a shaky breath as it rings.

it's 2:35 in the morning where he is. the poor man is probably sleeping soundly with his wife. you're about to frantically press the "end call" button when a familiar, yet sleepy, voice fills your otherwise silent room.

"y/n, mate? what's up? are you okay?"

his concern makes you smile. makes tears rise up to the corners of your eyes.

"yeah, Phil. I'm okay. I just can't sleep as usual, but I really want to. I really want to get better. I really want to take better care of myself but I just don't fucking know how."

there's a little bit of rustling on the other line - he's moving around - before everything in the background goes silent. then the man speaks again.

"I'm proud of you for being willing to take this step and ask for help. that takes guts, mate. but I'm also proud of you for recognizing that you need more sleep. two months ago, you wouldn't have agreed. it's a huge step in the right direction. we're making progress!"

and believe it or not, a perspective that might seem overly-optimistic helped you feel a little better that night. it brought a little more warmth to your heart.

and you felt bad asking, but you thought it was okay, so you took that leap of faith.

"Phil?"

"yeah?"

"could you... stay on call with me, please? I- you're really calming and I want to get some sleep and-"

he was definitely smiling softly on the other side of the connection. "mate, you're like Kristin and my unofficial daughter. the entire internet agrees. of course I'll stay on call with you."

and he was about to say something else when another, still familiar voice, interrupted. you recognized it immediately. mumza.

"hey, y/n."

her voice was tired. your call had woken her up. she didn't sound mad but you still felt guilty.

she and Phil...

phil and kristin

dadza and mumza

regardless of the specific iteration, their relationship was perfect. they always loved you. always there to provide comfort. tonight, at 4:37 for you and 2:37 for them, was no different.

the blond man seemed to have caught his wife up to speed on mute because when you hear her voice again it was far more cheerful, yet still calming and kind.

"of course we'll stay on call with you, kiddo. you're like our daughter. we love family bonding time!"

that made you let out a tired chuckle, an almost secretive smile on your lips. "yeah," you mumbled. "family bonding time."

and as you changed into your pjs and brushed your teeth to get ready for bed, Phil and Kristin chatted about their day, their night, their plans, and past stories.

and when you finally curled into the covers, your phone resting on the other pillow by your head, you finally felt exhaustion crashing over you like the ocean waves.

and the mother-father duo, the perfect pairing, the parents of a ridiculous amount of internet heard one last thing from you before you fell into a deep sleep.

the words were mumbled and slurred with exhaustion, but they were still easy to understand.

as you eyes drifted closed and you mind began to attach from really in preparation for tonights' dreams, you said one thing

"you guys are the best fake-ish parents a tired girl could ask for"

the best compliment, really.

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mochinek0 · 2 years

Text

2021:24-Last Minute

Marinette sighed in the back of the class. She hated Mondays; it just meant she had another week of putting up with Lila's imaginative stories and hateful glares thrown her way, for no reason. Class had been in session for maybe an hour, when Jagged Stone slammed the classroom door open.

"Marinette!" he cried, "Pack your bags; your coming on tour with me!"

Marinette stood up from her seat and shouted, "Seriously?"

"Yep." the rock star smiled.

"Mr. Stone?" Bustier questioned, "Marinette is in class and-"

"Her parents are in the process of pulling her out of school." he announced.

Marinette happily began to put her things away in her backpack.

"Why are you taking Marinette?" questioned Nino.

"Yeah?" spoke up Kim, "Why aren't you taking Lila on tour with you?"

"Who?" Jagged Stone asked.

"Lila Rossi!" Alya announced, picking up Lila's hand and waving it.

Jagged frowned and looked confused, "I don't know her."

"Of course you do!" cried out Sabrina.

"She saved your kitten on an airport runway!" Nathaniel shouted.

"She got tinnitus from it." declared Ivan.

"You dedicated a song to her!" Rose squealed.

Jagged glared at the class, "I've never met this child in my life nor have I ever had a bloomin' cat-"

"Ki-kitten." spoke up Mylene.

"Whatever!" the rock star rolled his eyes, "Marinette, did you know about this?"

"I told them she was lying, but no one wanted to listen to me. I mean why would they listen to the person who made your sunglasses, or designed your album cover, made the t-shirt designs for your last three concerts, has had you appear on TV in my own home?" Marinette question, as she made her way down the steps to the front of the class and stood next to him, "He's only mentioned me a handful of times in the media as his one and only niece. Not to mention, I'm his designer. I make the clothes for his concerts."

"Has any of those lies been posted?" Jagged asked Marinette.

"I don't know. Alya, did you post any of that bullshit on your blog?" Mari asked.

Alya panicked and pulled out her phone, looking through her blog.

Jagged sighed, "Tell Penny where to look and if they are publicized, she'll make sure their parents receive a lawsuit."

Alya's grip on her phone went slack, her phone dropping from her lap to the floor. The clatter drowning the class in silence.

"A-A lawsuit?" Lila questioned, paling.

"So you hear your own lies?" he snapped, "A middle aged man writing songs about a minor! I could get my name and music smeared for sexual assault, harrassment of a minor; child pornography!

Adrien couldn't believe what he was hearing. This is what lying caused? His father had always told him to ignore them; the PR department always dealt with them.

"I texted Penny where to look." Mari spoke, "She said she'll look through it right now."

"Thanks, Cupcake." the rock star smiled.

"So, how did you persuade my parents to take me?" she asked.

Jagged Stone smiled, "Oh, I didn't; your boyfriend did."

"What?" Marinette questioned.

"Surprise, Habibiti." Damian spoke, announcing his arrival.

"Damian!" Marinette shouted, rushing into his arms for a kiss, "What did you say? How did you convince them?"

"I fought with your mother." he admitted.

Marinette pulled away from her boyfriend and stared at him.

"Damian Wayne," she growled out, "what did you say?"

"I battled your mother." he repeated.

Marinette let go of him and took two steps back, glaring at her boyfriend.

"She isn't injured!" Damian declared, "I merely disarmed her and subdued her. She's working in the bakery, as we speak. No fractures. No bruising. No sprains. I checked myself!"

"Uh-huh." Mari spoke, tapping her foot in anger, "What else?"

The Wayne heir sighed, "I promised I would be with you every step of the way and would be your bodyguard."

Marinette shook her head, "Of course you did. How did I ever think my overprotective boyfriend would let me go on a World Tour, without someone watching my every move." making him smirk.

Jagged watched the two in concern, "We're setting up guidelines with your parents, today. If they say sperate sleeping arrangements, I don't wanna see you with her after a certain time; you got that kid?"

Damian pulled Marinette back into his arms and glared at the rock star, "Angel and I have already spoke to her parents about our relationship and my intentions. I, in no way, intend to impregnate her at the earliest convience. We have laid out a guideline. Marinette plans to graduate and open her studio, before anything."

"All right, you two." Marinette spoke, " Let's go back to the bakery. I have some last minute packing to do and we have arrangements to make." walking out of the class.

Damian and Jagged threw one last glare at each other, before rushing after her.

The class couldn't comprehend what they had just witnessed. Jagged Stone had no idea who Lila was. Marinette had known him this whole time; explaining why she called Lila a liar. Lila had claimed that their class president was bullying her due to her obsessive crush on Adrien Agreste, but she had her own boyfriend and an overprotective one, at that. It sounded like he didn't plan on letting her go anytime soon. Not to mention, Marinette just left school for the year. Who knew what would happen during that time?

"I guess we now know who the real liar is now, don't we." Chloe laughed.

Lila slid down in her seat, as Alya picked up her phone, deciding it was best to delete all her hard work, before she was sued. The blogger refreshed her blog only for an ERROR message to come up. She saved herself, but lost a great friendship in the process. Alya turned and glared at Lila, with tears in her eyes.

"I think the lying bitch should take her seat in the back, don't you, Liar?" she growled out, "It's where you forced us to move Marinette. I think the rightful Queen of Lies should sit in her throne."

Lila gathered her things and moved to the back, without a word. She had thought she had won the war, but in the last minute, Marinette turned the tide and won with an overwhelming victory. She had lost sight of the battle, of her opponent. Marinette had moved on from the people who had turned against her. She had moved on from the Prince, she had swayed to her side and found herself a King.

@maribat-calendar-events

PERMANENT TAGLIST: @animeweebgirl @animegirlweeb @abrx2002 @blueblossombliss @thepaceperson @alysrose-starchild @marveldcedits20 @09shell-sea09 @nickristus-dreamer @saltymiraculer @icerosecrystal @vixen-uchiha @a-star-with-a-human-name @meme991001 @fandom-trapped-03 @dood-space @moonlightstar64 @insane-fangirl-of-everything

#daminettedec21 #daminette #damian x marinette #marinette x damian #last minute #jagged stone #lila rossi #lila exposed #lila lies #marinette dupain cheng #damian wayne #fashion designer marinette

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cipheress-to-k-pop · 3 years

Note

Hi, I absolutely adore your writing and it’s quite inspiring and making my imagination go WEEWOO!

Could I request something for YJ With Dick? So like a headcanon or one shot (which ever you prefer queen) where the reader is quite reserved, snarky and can get angry real fast. They have feelings for Rob and they are especially snarky to him to hide their feelings, but they eventually start to open up more and during the events of episode 24 (you know, the one at haly’s circus), they open up to him and they confess? And he does the same?

Flower Language

Pairing: Dick Grayson as Robin x Reader

Warnings: Blood and injuries and plant death.

Word Count: 3.8k words

A/N: This is kind of my take on the Hanahaki disease, kind of. This was so much fun to write honestly, I didn't realize I like all this floral stuff so much. It also reminded me of another 'True Love's Kiss' trope I wrote for Dick Grayson as well. Also I changed the episode this was based on because I’ve already done something based on the episode with Haly’s circus @hanbedumbaf I really really really hope you enjoy it! Sorry it was so late, I finished it a month back but it was in my queue.

Adrenaline was a common feeling to you. A little too familiar. The life of a superhero puts you in peril more times than you would like but it was the only life you had known. You knew the familiar feeling of sweat forming on your skin and your heart pounding so loudly that you could hear it in every step you took.

However, when you heard the pounding, it was because there was a supervillain, usually hairy, chasing after you and determined to get your head on a stake.

Although, feeling your heart jump to your throat was becoming more familiar whenever you were around a certain someone. Robin annoyed you to no end, whenever he was around you couldn't help your face from growing warm and your lips from tingling to form a permanent smile on your face.

Having a crush was irritating, you couldn't think or even function without thinking of him. It was frankly humiliating, you were always so gung-ho about being bold and to the point and yet whenever you were around Boy Wonder, you couldn't help but bend your personality to something you felt like would appeal to him more.

Sometimes, you couldn't even stand yourself.

And so, as a pathetic act of rebellion, and maybe as a clear-cut sign that you had no idea how to handle emotions or anything similar to it, every time your heart got just a little soft, your tongue got a whole lot sharper. Probably not the best way to win a boy’s heart. But you weren't here for a romance story.

It was also a true sign that you had no idea how to flirt, thinking that borderline insulting witty banter was the way to go. Or perhaps it was a way of controlling your emotions, since being bitter and snarky was the thing that came easiest to you.

You seriously needed better tactics.

It was also your oblivious mistake thinking that Robin only saw what you wanted him to see. He was raised to be a detective, of course he was more observant than that. Papa (or let's be real, Alfred) didn't raise no fool.

You made the mistake of thinking Robin saw you as strong and independent and bold, just as the rest of them did. But he saw much more than that.

Robin was distressed by the number of crying faces around him, the kids were inconsolable which was understandable because of just how many things went wrong in the past couple of hours. To be quite frank, Robin was a couple seconds away from having a fit himself.

"Shh, little one," He heard distantly and his neck practically snapped. You were crouching in front of the few who were crying, with a small nurturing smile. It was the first time he had seen you out of uniform, usually referring to you as Antheia, named after the goddess of flowers, but this wasn't she.

"I know you're scared, my flowers, but I promise, we will find your parents." You soothed, gently wiping away their tears. They still looked up at you apprehensively and with uncertainty.

"I'll show you a magic trick." You began, grinning as the kids began to smile back at you. You pulled a seed out of your pocket and held it between closed hands, using a bit of your powers and felt it grow in your palms. When you revealed what you were holding, they collectively gasped.

A bud of a flower now rested in your hand. You smiled at their innocent eyes and held it to them, "Now I'm going to need your help for the next part. Everyone has to blow on the flower."

They nodded eagerly, crawling around you and on the count of three, everyone followed your instructions. And low and behold, the bud bloomed into a beautiful blossom right between your fingers.

One of the girls clamoured into your lap to hold the flower herself and you chuckled, wrapping your arms tightly around her, "You know what this flower means?"

They shook their heads, "It means faith, and hope. If you have faith and hope in us, then you'll get something beautiful in return."

For once, they look contemplatively and you chuckled, feeling pride at the fact that you managed to sow some wisdom in their minds. The girl that had been sitting in your lap turned in your grasp, with the flower in her hand and then reached up to tuck it behind your ear.

"For me?" She nodded happily and you smiled widely, kissing her cheek, "Thank you, petal."

Satisfied that you were able to calm them down, you gently placed the girl back on the floor before moving away from the group. Just as you were about to join the others, you ran into Robin. You didn't know he had just seen the whole thing.

Pulling the flower from behind your ear, you handed it to him, "You know in some cultures, this flower means to pick up the slack and stop looking like a confused chicken." You snapped.

Business as usual.

Robin looked back to the flower you had slipped into his hands, you had said it meant faith and hope, and you had given it to him. He looked back up to see you shuffling away from him quickly, a blush on your face. He smiled.

You were more nurturing and kinder than you let on, it was like it was programmed into your personality and yet you never showed it when you knew they were watching. That wasn't the only part of yourself that you were hesitant to show them.

And the more Robin observed you, the more he realized that you used flower language to depict a lot of your emotions. It was a silent way of letting them out, without having to tell other people what's really in your heart.

You thought you were sly about it, but nothing went under Robin's radar.

Everyone was watching a movie on the flat screen in the rec room. You hadn't realized you were so tired, the movie was boring, something that M'Gann had picked and you hadn't slept the night before, busy patrolling your city.

Your eyelids began to droop before you could even understand what was going on, your head lolling as you drifted in and out of consciousness.

Robin hadn't realized that he was napping through the movie until he felt a weight on his shoulder. He nearly jumped awake and glanced to his side to see you sound asleep, breathing gently. He nearly chuckled, was this what you looked like when you weren't scowling at everybody?

His heart skipped a beat, god, were you beautiful. The smell of flowers vaguely hit his nose and he noticed the red gardenia plant growing steadily in the corner of the room.

'Red Gardenias means a secret love,' Robin recalled from a book he had read, 'It's a secret way for someone to say I love you.'

He glanced back at you still sleeping peacefully, face completely relaxed and briefly wondered if your powers were taking the lead on your emotions and making gardenias grow around the cave. Or were you dreaming about something?

Something in his heart grew, here you were sleeping against his shoulder, making symbols of a secret love grow around the room. This had to be a sign of something, right?

Before he could contemplate it any further, you squirmed and then began to stir. Your eyes fluttered open, hazily taking in your surroundings before they landed on the boy beside you and widened in size, skin darkening with a blush.

"Why the fuck didn't you wake me up?" You snapped and turned on your heel to stomp out of the room without even waiting for a response from him. The others who noticed the way he was just staring at the place you were in surprise. You always do such a 180 when you're around him and conscious.

"Wow, sunshine's crabby in the morning." Wally commented from beside him. When he didn't get any response, he looked over to see Robin with a silly smile on his face.

Dick couldn't stop himself from grinning. The gardenias were still blooming.

***

"Antheia, do you think you will be able to stop the plants from growing any further?" Batman turned to face you, only to find you staring at him with a hazy, blank expression.

"Antheia?" Robin called but you didn't even flinch, your eyes were locked onto the holo-computer, seeing the thick vines that were twisting and turning. Their call was overwhelming, you could feel them grow even beneath your feet. It was like a siren was blearing through your head.

You couldn't tell what they were trying to say, it was like they were muffled. It was confused and lost, following Ivy and it was happy listening to her. And yet, it was feeling pain, the Justice League was busy pruning her as we speak. It was scared, crying out for someone to help them and you felt obligated to help. Your mind was getting heavy, throbbing with an oncoming migraine.

"(Y/N)!" Your eyes snapped open and focused onto the boy in front of you. Everyone was staring at you in concern and you blinked, suddenly not able to remember what the hell was going on. You were just trying to focus on something other than the screams and cries of the plant.

"......What?" You asked a little dumbly, noticing the concern on Robin's face. The plants were still crying. You couldn't get the painful sound of their screams out of your mind. You felt like curling up into a ball and crying.

"Batman asked if you would be able to stop the plants?"

"Oh, um, no." You answered in a distracted way that made his face pinch with worry. His hands were still grasping your shoulders tightly, keeping his face in close proximity to yours. You didn't even realize, too out of it to even notice.

Robin on the other hand felt his cheeks get uncomfortably hot the more you stared at him with those innocent, beautiful eyes of yours. If Batman hadn't been breathing down his neck, he was sure he would've kissed you in the moment.

Unfortunately for him, his dad always knew how to ruin the moment. And he would continue to for the rest of his life. Until death do them part. Even after the two of you grow up and live together, the Batman would find some way to interrupt your fun.

"Robin?"

"Huh?"

"The mission."

Oh. Right.

***

"Robin!" You screamed when one of Ivy's plants wrapped around his neck and slammed him against the trees. They didn't let up curling tighter around his throat. Fear struck you as he began choking from breath and you knew you had to do something.

Suddenly murderous intent took over you and you glared at Ivy who returned it with a smug smirk of her own. Oh, how you'd rip that smirk off her face.

"Okay Ivy, you wanna play? Let's play." You ground out, slamming your hands against the vine around Robin's neck and it began disintegrating beneath your fingers. He fell to the ground, gasping for breath and you tuned out the sound of the plant crying as it died beside him.

Ivy heard it just as loudly as you had, she screamed and more plants lunged towards the both of you.

"Go help the others! I'm about to snap this twig." You spat at Robin, using your powers to kill the roots as it reached you. It was working slowly, your powers weak to the pain of the plants around you. Even as every cell of your body told you not to, you clenched your fingers into fists and watched as the creeper feel to the marsh, dead.

You engaged in battle with Ivy. Plants were screaming for mercy all around you but you couldn't stop for even a second. Life around you was trembling but you had to keep fighting the villain in front of you because if you hesitated for even a second, many more would die.

Thorns scratched your skin, drawing blood and curled around Ivy, sinking barbs into her skin.

"Face it girlie! You're never going to overpower me!"

"Oh, I'm not trying to overpower you, just distract you long enough for Robin to get rid of the control system." You replied, just as smug as she had been at the start of the fight. Now you got to see her face melt into one of panic just as Robin jumped over her head and to your side with a grin identical to yours.

"Cover your ears!" He sang, wrapping an arm around your shoulder and ducking, covering your body with his own. You were grateful for it; you weren't sure you could even keep your body upright at the moment.

Then you heard the explosion and your heart stopped. Every single fibre of your body burned red hot fire as you heard screams and cries around you. Bile was crawling up your throat and your breathing got thin. They were sobbing a heart-broken wail and your eyes misted at the mere sound.

Without realizing it, you were gripping onto Robin's hand, brows furrowed together. The sound of the explosion cleared, the Injustice League was captured and he pulled you up to stand with the others.

It was silent for a moment. You had won.

And then the consequences of your actions hit you.

Everyone's necks snapped towards you when you let out a heart-wrenching sob. Robin, who was standing right next to you caught you just in time before your body hit the ground. Pain exploded in your chest as you began wailing against him.

"(Y/N)? (Y/N)! What's wrong?!" He panicked but you didn't respond, crying into his chest as you gripped his cape in an iron fist. Everything hurt and all you could feel was sorrow and guilt.

The other heroes crowded around you but your eyes were screwed shut, tears making your eyes sting. Robin held onto you tightly, pulling your body against his as you continued to cry.

"What's happening?" Artemis murmured, looking around to see the environment change before her eyes. Everyone else followed her lead to see how leaves began rotting, then the trees. The smell was pungent. Thorns and weeds were crawling up the dying trees, pulling them into the swamp.

"(Y/N) please, what's wrong?" Robin whispered in your ear but you couldn't hear him. The sounds of plants screaming and wailing was echoing through your mind. How they begged you to save them. How they begged you to stop.

And then it got hard to breathe, your chest constricted and you were wheezing. Robin had to watch in horror when petals and blood poured from your mouth. You were choking, throwing up and sobbing in his arms, and he was unable to do anything to help you.

"Flash get her to the Batcave." Batman said gruffly, he was shocked and worried for you but didn't say anything, not wanting to scare his son more, "Sending you the coordinates now."

"Alfred prepare the med-bay."

Dick watched with a sinking heart as he handed you into Flash's arms. It took him a few seconds for his mind to stop whirring, he was still kneeling in the swampy marsh when the team huddled around him.

"It's gonna be okay." Wally murmured, wrapping an arm around his shaking body.

"We just have to hope for the best."

***

When the others had gotten back to the Cave, you had just been moved there, after being looked over by Alfred. He joined you in the med-bay, wanting to keep an eye on you. But as of yet, you still had to wake up.

Dick wasn't supposed to be listening to the adult’s conversation, but he couldn't help himself, he had to know if you were going to be okay.

"The situation is undeterminable, sir. But as of now, the flowers that are clogging her respiratory system keep growing. If we don't find a cure for this, it's inevitable that she will suffocate and pass."

His heart stopped. Die? You couldn't die, not when he still had so many things to tell you. For so long, he hadn't told you of his feelings, wanting to keep the relationship between the two of you professional. But now more than anything, he wished he had said something.

There were so many things he didn't get to do with you yet. You had yet to give him a bouquet on your first date. He wanted to lay in bed with you, smelling fresh flowers as you told him what different plants symbolized. He had yet to see moments where you can't control your powers and make plants grow around the cave.

He hadn't even given you a flower yet.

"Rob listen, I did some research on this 'disease'." Wally said, falling into step with him, "It's called the Hanahaki disease."

"That's fiction Wal—"

"But that's the best we've got right now." Came his curt reply and Dick's heart clenched.

"Hanahaki disease is a fictional sickness that only occurs when someone is suffering from unrequited love. The victim will cough up flower petals that symbolize their love. This disease is only cured when the victim's feelings are romantically returned." Wally read off his phone before turning to Dick with a smile.

He raised a brow, "What?"

"You have to kiss (Y/N)!"

"What!?"

"Yep! You have to return her unrequired love!"

"Wally that's ridiculous, kissing someone doesn't cute anything."

"Well, it's the only thing we have. And for (Y/N), we need to try anything." He said, pushing him towards the med-bay. His voice was tight and tense, like he was holding onto his as his last hope and Dick prayed that it would work when the door of your room came into his sight.

You were asleep and if he hadn't known any better, he would've thought you were healthy. Wally closed the door behind him, leaving Dick alone with you. The only sound in was the beeping from your heart monitor and your light wheezing. It was getting harder to breathe.

Dick inched his way closer to you, watching as your eyelashes fluttered gently in your sleep. Leaning over the bed you were lying in; he pressed a gentle kiss to your forehead before moving his head in line with yours.

"God, please let this work." He whispered and your bottom lip was caught between his. It was feather-light but yet, electricity was buzzing through his veins and fireworks went off in his mind.

For a minute, nothing happened and his heart clenched in his chest before he kissed you a little harder. This had to work because they didn't have any other lead. Dick felt you exhale feebly against him and he almost gave up hope.

But then you took a deep breath, stealing the breath from his lungs and he pulled away quickly to see your eyelids fluttering open. The colour was returning to your cheeks and your eyes were sparkling up at him. You smiled gently and he blinked away tears of relief. Thank goodness.

'His eyes are blue' You thought, staring deeply into them. They were beautiful, alluring. You didn't know why but just looking into his eyes was addicting. Was this what it felt like to be so deep in love? That even his eyes were enough to captivate you?

"I'm so glad you're awake." He muttered, cupping your cheeks firmly and planting another kiss on your lips. You giggled lightly, heart overjoyed to find the boy you had been in love with for so long had returned your feelings and you responded to the kiss eagerly, placing your palms over his hands and leaning into him.

With your regaining strength, you felt a flower materialize in your hands. The stem between your fingers brought you comfort just as the scent of the flower brought you back life.

When Dick pulled away, you delicately slipped it into his hands and he turned his attention to it, blue eyes softening when he recognized this particular flower in his hands.

"It's an Aster." You whispered quietly, lips brushing against his and he chuckled. It was the only flower you thought of when he came to your mind, "Get it?"

Dick turned his eyes away from the blossom and looked at you again. Your heart jumped, noticing just how much love he held in them. Eyes you could swim in, overflowing with love for you. Suddenly you were overwhelmed, feeling adoration and attraction. You needed to be closer to him, even though he was pressed against you.

Your fingers curled into his collar and pulled him closer to you, slanting your lips over his in an open-mouthed kiss. Dick gasped against your lips, startled for no longer than a second before sinking against you and wrapping an arm around your waist to pull you closer.

Your lips moved gently against his, the blushing flower trapped between both your bodies. The smell of fresh flowers clouded Dick's mind with everything that was you. Your hair, your smile, your lips. If you kept kissing him like that, he was certain he'd forget his own name.

And then you pulled away and Dick noted that you were as beautiful as a fresh flower. Your skin was glowing with life and your tired eyes were twinkling. You smiled sleepily at him, eyes closing shut and he lowered you back to the bed. Immediately, you slipped back into slumber, exhausted from the day's events.

He watched for a couple seconds, making sure you were able to breathe without any problems before realizing he should tell the others that you were okay.

He slipped out of the room quietly, stealing a final glance of you sleeping peacefully in the bed and a huge smile grew on his face, "She's awake."

It was only then he noticed just how colourful the room had gotten in the few minutes he was with you.

The walls were covered with vines and roses of different colours, camelias and carnations of different shades. It littered the room, not leaving a single inch of the wall untouched and scattered petals all over the floor like confetti.

Different creepers hung from the ceiling, dusting all the superheroes with sparkling pollen and colourful petals. Not to mention there were stems crawling up the Justice League members, flowers hugging their ankles lovingly.

Batman looked a lot less intimidating with petals in his cape and a rose stuck behind his ear. Robin blushed at the sight of everyone giving him knowing smiles.

"We noticed."

Aster: This flower became a symbol of love when in Greek mythology it was placed on the altars for the gods. So now, when you send a bouquet featuring this vibrant bloom, the message of "Take Care Of Yourself For Me" is implied. It conveys deep emotional love and affection for someone.

Forever Taglist:

@simonsbluee

DC Taglist:

@emmacata

@p--e--a--c--h--e--s

@sometimeseverythingsucks

@sokkas-honour

@unstable1902

@lostgirlheart

@missdisapear

@tadpole-san

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asset35-maya · 3 years

Note

I am sleepy but I gotta make a request before the busy tomorrow so 2 things on my mind! Sleepy and the 'oh my god they were roomates' vine xD with any characters and aus I love everything you write anyways xD Happy timezones and best vibes your way >^<!! 💖💞💕💕

Oh my god, they were roommates…

“The rental market in Detroit is absolute shit! How dare these bloodsuckers charge such high rates for the most under-developed properties! This city’s going to the dogs!”

“Uh-huh.”

“You have to pay your own weight in gold just to live in a shoebox for a year. Nonsense!”

“Uh…”

“Are you even listening to me, Tina!

Tina?

Goddamnit Tina!”

Gavin thumped his fist on her desk, but Tina’s eyes barely flicked up from her phone.

“Oh my god, you sound like my grandpa…”

Gavin turned red and his brain buzzed with a thousand colourful retorts. He was just about to pick one when Tina stopped scrolling and turned her phone screen towards him.

CYBERSCALIA @ NEW JERICHO

The suburban paradise for executive androids and humans alike. Located 25 minutes drive from downtown Detroit, with a full amenities.

Gavin’s eyes widened to the size of dinner plates. He balked at her.

“You’re joking? How could I possibly…?”

“Get with the times, boomer…”

Tina lazily skimmed her thumb over the screen. The webpage promised plenty of greenery, good infrastructure and modest but spacious rooms. The extremely reasonable price tag was Gavin’s dream come true. He’d spent weeks apartment hunting in the wake of an early lease termination by his cantankerous landlord. Gavin knew he’d never find a better deal.

“Shit, this is so good, T! Why the phck does it have to be in that- that place!”

His friend arched a sceptical eyebrow.

“What place?”

“The Tincan ghetto!”

Tina smacked him on the arm. None too gently.

“It’s subsided public housing located in an android-friendly estate… because they’re the ones that need it most right now. And frankly, you seem to be in just as much need, so you should really get off that high horse.”

“Fine, fine. You’re right. I should seriously consider this place, even if my neighbours are gonna have more in common with my car than me. But damn, it seems a little too good to be true. There’s probably some fine print, hidden costs that’ll come out later.”

“Hmm… let’s see…”

Tina scrolled further and then let out a half-laugh. She held her phone up again.

“Nothing shady about the rates, but there is something you should know…”

At the risk of being called old again, Gavin squinted at the screen and read aloud.

“Bearing in mind the founding principles of New Jericho, all human occupants may only apply for tenancy in co-habitation with at least one android citizen of the United States of- JESUS PHCKING CHRIST! Absolutely not! I am not going to live with a plastic prick!”

Gavin had to get through half a bottle of wine before he could bear to scroll through the rental listings. Unlike other humans who had happily moved into New Jericho with their android friends or partners, he had to find an android who was also looking for a flatmate.

Some listings came from ardent supporters of Markus. These were the androids who wanted to ease the post-revolution transition by reaching out to humans. Some listings were put up by the android equivalent of frat boys. These individuals were clearly looking for someone on the fringes of human society, someone who could show them a good (if not illegal) time.

Other posts came from eccentric androids who craved company but had likely been rejected by their own kind. Gavin felt a strange twisting sensation, almost like pity, when he came across a post written entirely in third person by someone called Ralph.

He had almost given up hope when he came across a simple little listing for a two bedroom apartment in Cyberscalia.

RK900 #313 248 317 - 87: Seeking a neat, self-sufficient co-renter. Human or android, no preference. I spend most of my time working and will be out of your way for the better part of the day. I only ask for silence during my nighttime stasis cycles, timely payment of dues and upkeep of cleanliness.

Gavin sighed in relief.

“Your room is the first door on the left, mine is the second. The bathroom, laundry and kitchenette are shared, as is the living room. I scarcely find use for the latter, so you need not worry about my intruding on any of your social gatherings, or vice versa. As long as you adhere to the terms of the agreement, our paths will not cross much.”

The tall, stiff-necked android dropped a set of keys, both mechanical and digital, into Gavin’s open palm.

“Er thanks.. RK… sorry I forgot your full model number…”

“You may call me Nines. Although, I’d rather you didn’t call me much of anything. Now if you’ll excuse me.”

In a swish of black fabric, the android turned on his heel and disappeared into his room. Two rapid clicks indicated the shutting and locking of his door.

Gavin sighed and looked around the open-plan living room. It was nothing fancy, but it was far beyond any of the other properties he’d viewed in weeks of unsuccessful house-hunting.

He sat down on the simple black couch with a huff and contemplated his situation. He’d ended up where he’d truly never expected to go, but objectively speaking, things were good… barring the high-handed manner of his robot flatmate, but who gave a shit about that.

He pulled out his phone to text Tina his thanks.

“I can’t! I refuse to! It is a violation of my personal ethics and I will simply not take this assignment any further. Good day to you sir!”

Gavin nearly dropped his bowl of cereal one morning when his roommate burst out of his door and rushed into the open balcony.

He hadn’t seen Nines in days, which was perfectly normal. The android came and went at odd hours and made hardly any noise. It was almost like living alone. The only reminder of Nines’ presence was the sight of several dark shirts and trousers regularly hung out to dry on the rack above the washing machine.

Gavin set his bowl down and watched the android tightly grip the bars of the railing and take several unnecessary breaths to calm down. He’d seen deviant colleagues express emotion many times before, but this was the first time he witnessed such a potent mixture of rage and sorrow from a synthetic being.

Out of empathy, but mostly curiosity, Gavin approached cautiously.

“Hey Nines… is everything alright…?”

There was no response for several moments. Then Nines turned around with a grimace and hands held upwards in a placating gesture.

“I apologise for the disturbance. It was hypocritical of me to disrupt the very peace and quiet I demand of you.”

“Uh… no worries…? Are you okay?”

There was a flash of steel blue eyes.

Gavin kicked himself mentally as he realised too late that he’d broached uncharted territory. Their interactions didn’t extend beyond curt nods on the rare occasion they found each other in the same space. It was almost as if Nines engineered the lack of contact, which wouldn’t surprise Gavin at all if it were the case.

“I’m fine. I merely experienced some frustration with my work.”

Perhaps it was boredom, perhaps it was his usual lack of self-preservative instinct… Gavin threw caution to the winds.

“What do you actually do?”

Nines’ expression remained stoic but his LED went through a spectacular series of colours and flashes. His next words were reluctant.

“I’m a private investigator.”

“Oh shit! I’m actually a cop.”

Gavin pointed dumbly at himself and then let his hand drop when he saw absolutely no surprise cross the android’s face.

“I know. That’s why I let you stay with me.”

“For safety?”

“Certainly not for your fashion sense.”

“Wow okay, I didn’t think I’d be much protection for a big scary droid like you.”

Nines hummed dismissively and started to move out of the balcony, body language fully indicating the end of the conversation.

Unable to help himself for some strange reason, Gavin blurted out another ill-advised question.

“What pissed you off so much?”

Nines paused halfway through side-stepping the human. A thrill went through Gavin at the shards of ice he observed for the first time up close in Nines’ irises.

“If I tell you, will you promise to stop asking pointless questions?”

Gavin nodded earnestly, and frankly… rather foolishly.

“I helped a client gather evidence to initiate divorce proceedings on the grounds of infidelity. I provided ample photo and video evidence for his lawyers to work with. Now they want me to keep following the spouse to capture more details that could gear any future settlement in his favour.”

“So what’s your problem?”

“They’re offering me an incredible amount of cash to follow her 24/7. To stake out her workplace, her gym, her parent’s home. They want me to crouch under the window of the bedroom where her children sleep. I can do a lot of things, but not that. It’s deeply insulting that they even asked. That’s why I was so… pissed.”

Nines slipped past and was nearly back to his bedroom when Gavin spoke.

“I respect that.”

“I didn’t ask.”

“I know, but for real though, I think ethics are important in our line of work. Not just because of we need morals or a sense of right or wrong blablabla, but because we need… clarity.”

Silence floated through the hallway as Nines paused with a hand on his doorframe.

“Clarity?”

“Yeah, like a sense of direction. We don’t just take cases right-left-centre because they make us money. I mean, we could, and people do… but they never become specialists or experts of any kind. You gotta strategise if you want a career. Ethics helps with that. I think…”

Gavin wasn’t sure what made him say any of that. He was neither one for small talk, nor a man of many words… but something about Nines prompted that unusual level of introspective discourse.

“Sorry that was weird. Never mind.”

“That was actually… very astute.”

Their eyes met and Gavin could’ve sworn he saw the hint of a smile.

“It’s good to see that not all humans are as one-dimensional as I thought.”

The door clicked shut, but there was no locking sound.

Since the morning of Nines’ uncharacteristic outburst, the frequency of their encounters in the common areas of the apartment increased. Wordless nods became hellos, and hellos eventually became full sentences.

Not that he’d admit it, Gavin actually looked forward to enquiring about the android’s day and the cases he was working on. It was utterly fascinating to hear about legal investigations without the constraints of police procedure.

For his part, Nines would share as much as he had the patience to, before disappearing into the confines of his room. Though the time he spent outside steadily increased every day.

Another morning, while Gavin was making his coffee, Nines emerged from his room, still in his pyjamas and looking as livid as he had the time before. Gavin had never seen him in anything but crisply ironed businesswear. Before he could voice any concern, Nines stiffly asked Gavin to keep a lookout for a homicide suspect.

He nodded and immediately reached for his phone to text the sergeant on duty at his station. By midday, there was an arrest.

That evening, when Gavin settled in front of the TV with his usual glass of wine, he heard the familiar sound of Nines’ door opening. The couch dipped beside him.

“Thank you.”

“Just did my job. I should thank you for the tip.”

“Hmm.”

Gavin chanced a glance at his roommate, and found him looking right back.

“What?”

“Nothing… I just had the realisation that much of my work is impotent without the authority and means to take any kind of action.”

The sitcom began to play and Gavin thumbed the remote to reduce the volume.

“Takes all kinds to keep the streets clean. PIs can do things cops can’t. We rely on guys like you for intel all the time, you know.”

“I know.”

No words were exchanged for a while thereafter. Gavin found himself unable to focus on the TV show with all the brooding energy emanating from his right.

“If you feel like being a private eye doesn’t make enough of a difference, then why didn’t you… um… you know…”

“Join law enforcement?”

“Yup.”

“Plenty of my fellow androids have done so. I know for a fact that my predecessor model chose to remain there. You might know him.”

“Connor? Yes. Very annoying.”

“He is, isn’t he?”

“Totally. But why didn’t you join too? You’d be brilliant on the Force.”

“My skillset is certainly well-suited, but I didn’t want to become another puppet of the state.”

Gavin really didn’t know what to say to that. He nodded uncertainly and looked back at the television. He wasn’t sure why Nines was suddenly this social.

“What are you… watching?”

Androids could scan and detect just about anything in the world, so there had to be something else to the question. Gavin, strangely, was happy to oblige.

Nines made an appearance every evening, without fail. He would sit through the TV shows if they were of interest, or he would bring his case material and notes to the coffee table to work in silence beside Gavin.

Sometimes Gavin liked to work on jigsaw puzzles on the dining table. Nines would sit beside him, pretending to read a paperback novel, but actually scanning the puzzle and passing the right pieces over from time to time.

Against all odds, an evening ritual and a tentative friendship developed. It was simple, but it was warm. Comfortable. Like nothing Gavin had ever had before, even with humans.

He awoke one morning with a slight crick in his neck but the feeling of being very well-rested.

His eyes flickered open and fell upon the window. Familiar greenery came into view… but wait… had everything slightly shifted to the left? And was that the New Jericho Capitol building? He couldn’t see that from his room! There was a tree in the way! A tree that was now a few feet away from where it used to be.

Gavin sat up in alarm as he realised that he was not in his own bed. His heart flew into his throat as Nines walked through the open doorway. Shirtless and carrying a mug of blue liquid.

“Oh good, you’re up.”

“Wha-what happened!?”

Nines frowned and sat down on the edge of the bed. He set the mug on the floor and pulled on a plain black t-shirt.

“You passed out on the couch last night. I think you finished a whole bottle waiting up for me? Sorry, I was out working later than expected.”

Gavin looked down and sighed in relief as he found all his clothes still on him.

“I didn’t want you to injure yourself sleeping at an odd angle so I brought you here. Your door was locked.”

“You could’ve easily opened it.”

“Yes, but that would’ve been an invasion of privacy. I reserve that for working hours alone.”

Gavin looked deep into the sparkling blue eyes and as usual found no trace of humour.

“Thanks…”

“Don’t mention it. Now get out. You’re ruining my silk sheets.”

Against his best efforts, Gavin could not keep the thought of being carried to bed and tucked in safely out of his mind. How many years had it been? Since something like that had been even remotely possible for him?

He knew that Nines was just being kind in his own pragmatic little way… but Gavin found that he wouldn’t mind the prospect of waking up in the android’s bed in a wildly different context.

He realised he had it bad when Tina caught him smiling to himself at work one day.

“Why so happy?”

“Oh… nothing. Just remembered something my roommate did… He’s a… funny guy.”

“Huh. Well, look at you getting along so well with androids.”

“Android. Singular. Just him.”

“Wowwww… he sounds special.”

“Who did this?”

“Gavin, the damage is merely superficial-”

“Who phcking did this??!”

He reached forward and gingerly touched Nines’ split cheek. His synth skin was smeared with blue blood and glitching in and out. Nines winced at the contact.

“Shit, sorry. That must hurt like a bitch.”

“Androids do not feel pain.”

“Bullshit.”

“I’m merely experiencing a surge in sensory input wherever my chassis is exposed. I’m fine.”

“Shut up and give me your first aid kit or whatever toolbox equivalent you tincans have.”

A shade of embarrassment appeared over the android’s features.

“I… actually don’t have one. I didn’t think I’d ever need it.”

“Didn’t think anyone could kick your ass, huh?”

“No… I didn’t think anyone would ever spot my hiding place.”

“Huh. How’d that happen?”

Nines’ eyes dipped, but as always, he answered the question.

“I was… distracted.”

Something in the air solidified and both of them felt it. Gavin cleared his throat and slapped his knees like an old man about to stand up.

“Right. Let me go check if the neighbours have anything that might help with your face.”

“So who’s this dapper young gent you’ve brought to the party, Gavin?”

“Er… he’s my uh… roommate.”

Captain Fowler nodded and winked.

“That’s what they called it in my day too.”

Nines shifted beside Gavin and cleared his throat.

“He’s a PI. But I think he’s wasting his talent taking pictures of cheating spouses. He’s quite interested in police work. Maybe we could get him to assist on a couple cases now and then?”

Fowler put down his drink and extended a warm hand to Nines.

“Oh thank RA9!”

Nines came running to the cluster of police cars and enveloped him in a giant hug. Gavin laughed as he patted him weakly on the back.

“Watch the ribs, big guy.”

“I was so worried.”

“Why? Your info was good. No chance of error.”

“I meant about you.”

Gavin pulled back and regarded Nines with confusion. The flashing red and blue lights of the cars made it hard to read his LED.

“Why?”

“I can’t believe you have to ask.”

The android pulled him into a bruising kiss. The officers standing nearby broke into wolf-whistles and applause.

“What the-”

“Oh I take full credit for that, sir.”

Fowler glanced at Tina.

“The case, Chen?”

“Oh of course. I solved the whole thing. But I mean that specifically.”

She waved a hand in Gavin and Nines’ direction. The two held each other tightly and seemed unlikely to come up for air anytime soon.

“Like I helped Gav find an affordable place in New Jericho and then he met this handsome investigator droid and they were roommates.”

“Oh my god, they were roommates…”

“Yeah legit.”

\\\

Thanks so much for the request @jude-shotto

This ended up being a lot longer than expected, but I couldn’t help it. Your prompt just took me on a whole journeyyyy <3

#maya bday ask event #reed900 #rk900 #gavin reed #dbh gavin #dbh nines #gavin900 #gavin x nines #gavin x rk900 #dbh fanfic #dbh rk900 #dbh #dbh writing #my writing

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letarasstuff · 3 years

Text

Minimal Loss - Maximal Stress

(A/N): This was requested by an anon and plays in the intern universe. It’s based on 4x3 “Mininal Loss”. I didn’t follow the exact plot, but the quint essence is there (you’ll see what I mean). I hope you enjoy it.

Summary: An intern goes along on a seemingly undangerous case with Emily and Spencer on a ranch under the lead of Benjamin Cyrus. What could go possibly wrong (well, everything ig)?

Warnings: Mentions of child abuse, guns, vomit, swear words, ususal Criminal Mind stuff

Wordcount: 2.9k

✨Masterlist✨ ________________________________

“Do you guys really think it’s a good idea to bring a child to an interview about child abuse?” Agent Lunde asks skeptically while steering the car towards the ranch, where the allegions originated from.

“(Y/N) is our intern and we thought she has to make some experience in the field and since this is the most peaceful case you can find within the BAU, it’s her opportunity”, Emily defends the team’s decision.

“Also, she is nearly the same age as the girls, so it’s easier for them to open up to her and she is incredibly bright, meaning she can help us deducing a profile”, Spencer adds. The teenager doesn’t acknowledge anything they say, too engrossed in listening to One Direction over her bluetooth earbuds.

Soon the quartet arrives at the Saptarian ranch. “I’m looking for Benjamin Cyrus.” “You found him”, answers the man, who sits in front of a chapel.

“He really is nicely placed. I feel like I looked like this in my math classes. I was like beautiful decoration, but had no use”, (Y/N) whispers to Emily. She in turn has a look of confusion on her face. “You aced math, you graduated with an A+ in it.” “Just because I have good grades doesn’t mean I’m not stupid. I mean, I’m educated, but stoopid.”

A little later she sits across from a blonde girl named Jessica, asking her questions about the 911 call. Her mother continuously steps into that conversation.

“Jessica, can you tell me, if anyone here were ever touched inappropriately?” “Is this really necessary? You are a child yourself, shouldn’t ask one of the other agents the questions?” Slowly the teenager’s patience is wearing down and Spencer can definitely see that from five meters away.

“Ma’am, with all due respect, but I’m perfectly capable of conducting this interview, if you stop interrupting me. I may be young, which doesn’t stand in my way of being an intern for CPS and still knowing my way around, so please step to me colleagues or something and let me do my job.” Hesitantly the mother gives the two girls their space.

As soon as she is out of earshot, Jessica begins to explain. “Nobody is touched in a way they shouldn’t be touched. Or is it wrong for a wife to share a bed with her husband.”

(Y/N) remembers Emily telling her to not judge anything anyone of the girls will say. But damn it, this girl is really hard not to judge.

“Wait wait wait. Let me get this straight: You are simping for that walking quote machine?” Okay, maybe she is judging. But just a little bit.

“If simping means deeply in love then yes, I am simping for Benjamin Cyrus, my husband.” At this point the other three agents get closer again. “Jessica, the state of Colorado demands parental consent. You aren’t married to him unles-'' The black haired woman cuts the young doctor off. “She did give consent.”

(Y/N) can barely contain the unsurprised “surprised” gasp leaving her mouth. But it would have been cut short nonetheless, since sudden gunfire erupted outside the school building.

Fairly quickly everybody is evacuated through the tunnels. As Cyrus tells the cult members to trust in god, the teenager turns to the agents. “This much to it’s safe for me here. Didn’t anybody check for weapons or something?” Flabbergasted because of the whole situation Spencer answers. “Yes, Garcia checked with the authorities and nothing was suspicious.”

Suddenly Lunde takes all the courage she has (maybe because a teenager she brought into this is in immediate danger like all the other kids) and goes up with the cult leader to speak to the shooting law enforcement officers. Shortly after the other three get the message of her death.

But they don’t have any time to think about her, since they all are shoved into the chapel.

While Cyrus holds a speech about trust in god in dangerous and trying times like this the BAU in Quantico learns about the shooting through the tv news report.

“HOTCH”, Morgan yells up to the Unit Chief’s office, probably giving everybody else a heart attack. Alarmed Aaron storms out into the bullpen followed by Rossi, who is attracted by the tumult. “Aren’t Prentiss and Reid on that ranch?” Derek asks, his eyebrows furrowing in worry.

Squinting at the screen, horror etches on the other agent’s face. “(Y/N) is also there”, he says, realizing that they sent a minor with zero field experience into a lava hot situation.

Suddenly the whole bullpen’s phones ring, which results in Hotch barking his first commands.

After a nightflight to Colorado the team sets up at the crime scene.

“Dave, I was appointed to determine the primary negotiator”, Aaron tells him after he pulls him to the side. “It makes sense. I trained most of the people here, if you want me I can give you a few recommendations.” But the Unit Chief shakes his head. “No, I want you to be the negotiator in this.”

Now it’s Rossi’s turn to shake his head. “Aaron, I can’t do it, I’m too emotionally involved.” “So are all of us and why should I take the student if I can have the teacher?” The older one sighs in resignation and accepts the offer. They don’t have the team nor reccourses for any mistakes in this.

As he goes to prepare for his task at hand, Hotch hears a man complaining loudly. “I demand to talk to know why I wasn't told that the FBI was sending undercover agents into the Saptarian ranch?” “The only thing you are in position to demand is a lawyer”, he says while stepping closer to the scene.

“Who the hell are you?” The man spits out into his direction. “I’m Aaron Hotchner, Unit Chief. I’m the guy who is gonna tell the Attorney General of the United States whether to charge you with obstructing a federal investigation or negligent homicide.” “You can’t talk to me like that”.

Upon closing the little bit of space between both of them, Aaron stares him down. “Get off my crime scene.” Just a few seconds of the intense and pissed Hotch Stare are enough to chase that man down to his car and go on his way to Coward Island.

Meanwhile the first contact is made, Emily and Spencer tell (Y/N) in hushed voices what the situation means. “There are three groups here. The leader, in this case Cyrus. The hard die hard believers, the goons of him, and the followers”, Spencer explains.

“In a case like this we go for minimal loss. We try to get as many of the followers out as possible, because the rest won’t give up as long as they can breathe. At first we go with one or two people, children mostly, then with smaller groups and in the end we get out as many of these people we can. Soon, there will be the first supply delivery from our team, but it’s gonna be bugged, which means we know they are listening. Understood?” Emily adds.

Aside from the knowledge that there is a great possibility that they won’t come out alive of this one, (Y/N) is pretty calm. “Honestly, it’s pretty extra here. I mean I can’t even, look at the walls and the whole pseudo decoration. Why would anybody choose this willingly? But yeah, I understand.” Seeing that these phrases are a kind of a coping mechanism, the two agents aren’t too concerned about her right now. I mean, of course they are pretty much on edge because they all are in a hostage situation, but since the teenager doesn’t seem to be on the verge of a breakdown she has to be fine.

“Is there anything you want to know?” The black haired woman asks, stroking the younger one’s hair out of her face. “No, not right now. This is anything but basic, but I’ll hit you up if something shoots into my mind.”

When Rossi comes in to hand make the first delivery, he looks beyond worried. It seems like he got years older in the span of the last 24 hours. As he glances through the rows of people, he subtly acknowledges their presence and well being.

“How do we know this will be nothing like Waco?” (Y/N) asks out of the blue as all the members get a cup of wine. Surprised Emily turns towards her. “You know about Waco?” “Duh? I told you, I’m educated. So, how do we kno-” “And together we drank the poison.” “Oh well, I guess we do now. It’s nearly iconic how bad his acting is.” Now both of the agents look confused at her.

“What? Didn’t I tell you that I was a theater kid? Also, his goons are writing the reactions down, so it’s just a test to know who to separate from the group and who not.” Even in a situation like this a girl in a red and black flannel over a white graphic tee - it is a Doctor Who Tardis - astounds them.

Not long after this, the three of them are shoved into a small room, which looks sort of like an office.

“Which one of you is it?” Cyrus asks. Confused Prentiss, Reid and the intern look at him. When nobody speaks up he pulls out his gun. “One of you is an FBI agent. So who is it?”

In the short silence he points his weapon at (Y/N). “Oof. Dude, what the fu-” “She is a child. The FBI doesn’t recruit children. But she is a good leverage. So, if neither of you reveals their identity, I will blow her brain out.” This is the final point for the teenager to slowly freak out.

“It’s me. I’m the FBI agent”, Emily confesses. Seeing the young girl with panic in her eyes sets something off in her. Roughly she is taken away by two big guys.

“No no no! This can’t be right. Nobody of us is from the feds. It’s not her, you stupid piece of boom-” With a swift motion of his gun Cyrus knocks her out.

“Damn, this is an annoying one. I don’t know how you can even take her seriously.”

(Y/N) wakes up half an hour later in the chapel draped over two stools with her head in Spencer’s lap. He strokes her hair while his mind is running non stop looking for a solution to this situation. A groan tells him that she is awake.

“Hey, how are you feeling?” The young doctor asks in a soft voice. “If good means your head feels like it’s dancing samba without me, then I’m good.”

He smiles. “We are going to get out here, soon. I convinced Cyrus that we are on his side. He also won’t hurt Emily any further. I saw her earlier, he held a speech. She is fine, just a bit roughen up.”

To lie to the girl like that feels wrong to Reid, but he can see signs of a concussion by her behavior and doesn’t want to worry her more than she already is.

Three o’clock rolls closer and closer, which makes both of them more nervous. Because of the lack of communication they don’t know the tactic the team will use to come in. They can only hope that they all come out alive and in one piece.

Since they are in the chapel, their attention is solely on the cult leader. They don’t even notice all the women and children leaving. As (Y/N) and Spencer spot Cyrus with the remote for detonating the explosives, she mumbles “Let’s get this bread”.

When the leader sees Spencer trying to convince one of the die hard believers that he has a choice to change his mind, he punches the young doctor so hard in the gut that even (Y/N), whose vision is slightly blurred, feels the pain he endures.

“Hey Cyrus”, she calls out, “TBH I think all the shit you are doing here didn’t pass my vibe check. Also, the whole system is pretty whack.”

“You are a child, you don’t know anything. If god doesn’t want me to do any of this, he would stop me.” As Cyrus cocks his gun towards Spencer, Derek runs in and shoots him in the chest twice.

(Y/N) crosses her arms over her chest, says “Ok, Boomer” and rolls her eyes.

“Are you ok, princess?” Morgan asks, going over to her and examining the wound on the side of her head. “Never felt better now that there are two Derek Morgans to protect me.” Concerned he goes to say something else, but is cut short by Spencer shouting “RUN!”.

A look behind them shows Jessica short circuiting upon her husband’s death and grabbing the remote.

When the explosion erupts, Emily looks terrified at the remains of the chapel.

“Morgan! Reid! (Y/N)!” She shouts, followed by the other members and their calls after the three. A certain fear captures every single one of them. If only one of them is- No. Nobody can go through this thought. They are going to be fine. They are alive and-

“Thank god”, JJ breathes as she spots three limping figures. They slowly approach the group of four. “EMILY!” The teenager shouts relieved, though a little loud for the proximity between them. “SPENCER WOULDN’T REALLY TELL ME HOW YOU ARE! YOU LOOK TERRIBLE! THANK HARRY STYLES YOU ARE FINE!” Yes, the explosion definitely messed all of their hearings up, since Morgan and Reid also speak with the same volume.

Emily hugs her. “I’m okay. But you need to get checked out.” But the teenager vehemently shakes her head as she hugs Aaron. “I DON’T NEED TO”, when she sees her teammate’s faces, she reduces her loudness. “I am ok. But Spencer, he got a good blow to his guts. I think the Queen in England even felt that vibe check.”

As Derek escorted the young doctor to one of the awaiting ambulances, JJ also gently stirs the girl in the same direction. “Just let a doctor look over your head, it looks like a nasty cut and believe me, you want to get this checked out, Honey.” “But Jayje-” She begins to complain, but gets cut off by bile rising up her throat. In the next moment (Y/N) kneels on the floor, letting out anything she got in her system over the course of the past few days.

“I think this is nothing your body should do, Bambi”, Rossi adds up. Unwillingly the intern goes with the blonde mother to the EMTs. They decide to have a doctor looking over her and getting her x-rays done at the hospital.

A few hours and uncountable complaints from (Y/N) later, the team is back on the jet on their way home. She thanked Emily in a heartfelt moment in the hospital shortly after she got pain killers, which made her loopy, for saving her life by putting her own on the line by exposing her identity. Even Prentiss had tears in her eyes as she saw the young and innocent girl so frayed by the just occured events.

Unusual for Rossi, he takes a seat on the sofa, petting his lap as (Y/N) sits beside him. With pleasure she lays her head onto it, cuddling closer into the fuzzy blanket she got from Morgan.

A few minutes into the flight, Rossi just got into describing the interviews he conducted with Ted Bundy, Aaron motions him to make space. David excuses himself with the reasoning of getting a cup of tea for her.

“I’m sorry”, Hotch says as he runs his hands through his youngest employee’s hair. He is careful to not mess with the bandage she has on the side of her head. Confused (Y/N) looks up to him. “What for?” “For sending you into a situation, where you got seriously hurt.”

This makes the girl sit up, though her world once again begins to spin. “Aaron Hotchner, I hope you don’t mean that. You nor anybody else knew that this was going to happen. You only wanted for me to get as much experience as possible while this internship lasts and I tell you, with that story I’ll go viral on TikTok. Just because I got a medium severe concussion and a wound, which hopefully will leave a badass scar, doesn’t mean you have to apologize. But you can do me one favor.” “Anything.” “When I fall asleep, please make sure I don’t choke on my own vomit. The doctor told me it could happen, that’s why I am not allowed to fall asleep unsupervised. But I haven’t slept in three days and I think I'm beginning to feel uncomfy because of that.”

Smiling softly Hotch nods and lets the teenager take her original place in his lap. Minutes later she is fast asleep. But one thing is certain: As soon as she wakes up and feels any better, she is going to tell everybody who wants to listen about the one time where she got blown up by a fifteen years old girl, who was married to a cult leader. And nobody is gonna believe her tea. Except for Penelope, who greets (Y/N) with a hug and the promise to never let her out of her eyesight.

All works:

@agentshortstacc

Criminal Minds:

@averyhotchner @mggsprettygirl

Spencer Reid:

@calm-and-doctor

#spencer reid x reader #spencer reid x teen!reader #emily prentiss x reader #emily prentiss x teen!reader #derek morgan x teen!reader #jennifer jareau x teen!reader #aaron hotch x teen!reader #david rossi x teen!reader #criminal minds fanfiction #Criminal Minds #x teen!reader #reader insert

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oitommothetease · 3 years

Text

Invisible String (13/15)

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Female reader (Modern AU)

Word Count: 2.2k words

Warning : angst, violence, sad reader, sad Bucky, shitty Rumlow, maybe Steve isn’t that bad, the doughnuts are back from chapter 11, did I mention angst?, angst, more angst

Everything was dark, you noticed. When you slowly returned to consciousness, you half expected to be in your bed with Bucky tangled beside you, just like in your dreams. He fit so perfectly in your bed — your life and you, as if he was a part of you, and you weren't sure where he ended and where you began.

But when you moved to stretch your aching limbs, they moved a few inches before halting by some sort of restriction. Instantly, the bubble of your dreams burst, and everything came to your mind, and you abruptly looked around to find him. Bucky was still unconscious — tied to a chair, but instead of rope like yours, he was tied down with manacles. He had restraints on his wrists and ankles. You were sort of offended that they didn’t think you were strong enough to be captured like him. Not that you wanted those manacles anywhere near your body, but you preferred not to be treated as if you were meek.

What could be worse than getting kidnapped? It's definitely getting rekidnapped with the person who came to rescue you. Clint lied, he was working with Rumlow. His source was nothing but an ambush for Bucky. There were more than 4 of Rumlow’s men in the warehouse. Clint lied so that Bucky would come under prepared and he fell right into the trap.

Earlier, it was just you in a room alone, but now it was you and Bucky in a dingy cell-like room with a closed door. He was still knocked out when the man known as Rumlow walked in. You recalled him from the time he came to the club, and you wanted nothing more than to run towards the safe embrace of your lover.

“Well, well, what do we have here?” Rumlow’s steps halted when he was near your tied form. His hand came for your cheek and naturally, you recoiled away. Your rejection didn’t deter him, it only fueled his fury more as he held your chin tightly in his other hand and made you look at him. You attempted to get out of his grasp, which only angered him more, and he struck his hand to your face. It ached so much and it was so loud that it jolted Bucky up.

“Will you look at that,” Rumlow mocked, pushing your face away from his hold. “Lover boy can feel her pain.”

It took a second for Bucky to drink in the sight and commemorate everything. Once everything came back to him, he looked at you deplorably, his eyes filled with concern and guilt as he saw the blood dripping down your face.

“Get away from her, Rumlow!” Bucky seethed when his gaze was back at the man who hurt you. Despite the warning, Rumlow moved more towards you. One hand running his knuckles on your face in an attempt to be soothing, while the other held your chin in a painful grip.

“Why do you get to keep such a pretty thing all to yourself?” Rumlow asked rhetorically. “I should get a taste too.”

Before Bucky could try to do something, a knock on the door attracted everyone’s attention. Clint came in with a look of victory on his face.

“You betraying son of a bitch,” you hissed. Unlike Bucky, you didn’t have much self-restraint or any wise escape plan cooking in your head. “Why the fuck did you do it?”

“You’re new, sweetheart,” Clint pointed out, his tone condescending. “You don't know how it works.”

“What I know is that your wife is friends with Wanda's girlfriend,” you retorted back immediately. You were tired of being seen as weak. ”How will she feel when she finds out that you betrayed Bucky?”

A look of uncertainty came over Clint's face and you continued, “I might be new, sweetheart, but I’m not dumb.”

When Clint was astounded, Rumlow spoke up,” Ah, the power of pillow talk. You are one feisty little bitch. What else did he tell you? Did he tell you that his work is not illegal and he sells weapons to the government?”

You looked at Bucky, hoping that the man you knew and loved was nothing like this monster who assaulted you. Rumlow continued, “Barnes, Rogers and I started this whole a business together. They enjoyed the money that was brought in with our illegal escapade. He enjoyed girls like you every day. Until one day, the childhood buddies decided it was time to go clean. And they just left us in pursuit of some dream life.”

You didn’t know what to say, so you just looked over at Bucky who was staring at the floor as if waiting for it to open and swallow him whole. Was he ashamed of his past? Did he think that his past would make you love him any less? If he did, then he was highly mistaken because now you didn't see James as your arrogant boss. Now you saw a young boy who made some questionable choices and, to make a better life for himself and his family, he changed his direction. Now you saw a reckless boy who did stupid shit in his past like everyone in the world and instead of letting it define him, he made a better life for himself. Now you saw a hardworking boy who worked his ass off to build an empire for himself and his loved ones. All of these versions of him existed before you, but you only saw one — the one that mattered to you at least, you just saw the love of your life, your Bucky.

The universe might have listened to your pleas because Rumlow’s phone rang and both he and Clint exited the room. You didn’t know how to start a conversation with Bucky. He didn't want to, that you were sure of. What were you supposed to say? That his hardship and past made him look hotter in your eyes? You wanted to avoid romanticizing his struggles, so you resorted to the only thing you do when you are tense.

“This is not the lunch date I had in mind,” you teased, forcefully huffing to make the situation seem less intense. When Bucky did not respond or even looked at you, you retorted to another antic. “I remember that song name, you know — Invisible String. Taylor Swift, of course. It would make an excellent bakery name. We can -”

“We can what?” Bucky finally snapped, “You want me to fire my friends and convert the most profitable club into a fucking bakery, huh?”

“Is that what you want? A life with a man who got you involved in this shit?” you flinched at his harsh words. You knew this wasn’t your Bucky — your Bucky was all about sweet touches, teasing words and passionate kisses. No, this was the Bucky that Rumlow recognized.

“You don’t mean that,” you whispered, your tone gentle. “I’m sorry you're stuck here because of me, but -”

He cut you off. “Doll,” he exhaled, his voice devoid of all the venom present a moment ago, It was filled with the adoration towards you that you were used to; Nonetheless, it still made you feel dizzy all the time. His face softened before saying, “This isn’t your fault. It’s mine. I got you into this mess. I should have stayed away from you.”

You opened your mouth to object. You wanted to tell him that he was being stupid — that you would get through this together, but he sustained.

“I will stay away from you,” he pondered, his eyes avoiding yours again.

No, you wouldn't let that happen. You finally had him, and you wouldn't let Rumlow get into Bucky's head. “We’ll talk about this later, okay?”

“There is nothing to talk about,” he concluded, “When we are out of here. I will maintain my distance.”

You tried to ask him to stop saying that, but he kept ignoring your words and looked at the wall behind you for almost an hour. When it got to your nerves, and you were starting to get pissed he started whistling a song you weren’t quite familiar with. “Seriously? How old are you? Five?”

He didn’t respond. “So what? You're just gonna ignore me while we’re tied here?”

“Hey, let's play a game,” you tried again.

Before you could lose all your patience and start yelling at him, you heard grunting sounds from behind the door. You shuddered, swallowing the lump in your throat. You didn’t want to see Rumlow again, in fact, you never wanted to see Rumlow.

Sensing your discomfort made Bucky finally speak up. “Y/N, look at me,” his voice sweet as ever, as if he hadn't been ignoring you for the past hour. You looked at him, and he held your gaze, assuring you, “I won’t let anyone hurt you again.”

You nodded, not trusting yourself to speak anything. Both of you held your breath, waiting for someone to walk in and hurt you more, but it never came. All that came was a blond man with a gun in his hand, whom you recognized instantly — Steve. You didn't like that man one bit because he clearly disliked you, but at that moment, he was your angel who came to your rescue.

Immediately, Steve ran towards his pal who nodded his head towards you, indicating his friend to let you out of the restraint first. Again, he had manacles around his wrists and limbs, and he wanted you to be free of the rope that was around you. Steve took his friend’s request and freed you of your restriction before doing the same for Bucky.

When you stood up, the world stood up with you, and you realized that you hadn’t eaten anything in more than 24 hours. You almost collapsed on the floor when two strong hands came to your relief and held you. You didn’t need to keep your eyes open to see who it was. Likewise, you knew it was Bucky — you could recognize his touch anywhere, and just liked that you passed out.

The next time you gained awareness, you were moving swiftly. It took you a few seconds to acknowledge that you were in a car. You craned your neck upward to find your head situated on a hard and firm chest, Bucky looked down at you and engulfed you tighter to his side, your legs resting on his lap while his free hand was settled on the back of your thigh, holding you closer to him.

“Doll,” his voice was barely audible, and you wouldn't have heard it if you weren't so close to him or if he didn't whisper it in your ear. “You gotta eat something.”

Tiredly, you nodded and Bucky nudged you softly, encouraging you to straighten up a little before eating something. You straightened your back and somebody passed a box from the passenger seat. Steve, you recognized him and the person in the driver's seat — Sam. Both of them looked at you sympathetically, and you smiled at them, or at least tried to. You were so exhausted.

Bucky opened the box and took out a doughnut, which you brought for him that morning, or was it the previous morning? How long had it been since you were kidnapped?

Two doughnuts and one bottle of water later, you were back at your apartment. Bucky’s hand rested on the small of your back as Steve and Sam followed both of you. You hesitated before unlocking the door, and Bucky ran his hand on your back reassuringly as he ensured you, “I’ve got you, doll.”

Bucky said something to Sam and Steve, but you were too exhausted to listen. Once they were gone, Bucky strode towards you, cupping your face in his hands as he scanned your face for all the wounds. “How about you clean up, and I’ll get the first aid kit. Okay, doll?”

Just like the whole night or day or whatever time it was, you didn't remember most of the bath. You remembered going into the shower — you remembered water running down your body — you remembered seeing red water (probably from your bruises) seeping in the drain — you remembered seeing someone in the mirror you didn't recognize — you remembered falling to the floor and crying and most importantly you remembered calling for Bucky.

As if standing outside the door, Bucky was crouched over you instantly . He wrapped a towel around your naked form and held you on the bathroom floor while you cried and finally acknowledged the trauma that you had encountered.

Bucky held you as you continued to cry in muffled sobs against his chest. When you fell asleep, he placed you and tucked you in your bed comfortably before getting in himself. You wrapped your arms around him in your sleep and held him like the anchor he was to you. Bucky pressed a kiss in your hair and whispered his love and apologies to you for pulling you into his messed up life. You couldn't fathom a word he confessed before sleep finally engulfed you.

TAGS : @bananapipedreams @akkinda10 @rivers-rambles21 @emmabarnes @valsworldofcreativity @boofy1998 @marvel-3407 @mybuck @priii @coffeebooksandfandom @ladydmalfoy @shaking-a-jar-of-bees @elizamalfoyy @maladaptivexxdaydreaming @sabrinathesimp

A/N - Hey, I finally made a Taglist .This was a very intense (please don’t hate me) I love you bye. Take care!

#bucky barnes fanfiction #bucky fic #bucky fanfic #bucky barnes x you #bucky barnes series #bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes x female reader #bucky barnes fic

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midday0nightmares · 3 years

Photo

24 - through the night.

previous chapter number 4.

m.list.

warnings: this series contains themes of yandere\mafia, blood, violence, mental health, drugs, non-con.

author note: this is pure fiction and it is not intended to romanticize any of the situations mentioned bellow.

8:11 pm

You pushed the fluffy covers off and hoped off of the high bed, dragging your feet to the bathroom to wake yourself up. The untouched food was waiting for you, the thoughtful warms your heart. You flipped through the channels looking for something to interest you, settling for a cheap action movie to watch while you ate the cold meal.

9:42 pm

It’s getting late, guess no fun for you in this trip..

10:53 pm

Are they seriously staying late and leaving you alone? That’s when you notice that jeno’s bag is gone.. it can’t be, did he leave?

11:28 pm

You look outside the window, everything I closed, the road is empty.. are they staying out all night? You huff.

12:17 am

Maybe you stop waiting and just sleep they are grown ass men, but what If something’s wrong.. you can’t help but to worry.

01:06 am

You stir awake to the sound of the door peeps announcing someone’s arrival. you sit up on the bed in anticipation, you swallow a knot of anxiety as the door slowly opens, you let go a breathe of relief when you see jaemin’s face, finally.

“Where have you been?” It comes out louder than you intended it to be, your feet taking you closer to him as he walks in, he doesn’t answer you but still gives you a weak smile, his hands stops you before you can wrap yourself around him. he pushes you back deeper into the room. confused, you can see the words hanging off of his lips as he wants to say something, you impatiently wait for him to speak.

Jeno comes behind him, struggling with his suitcase, he drags it to the bathroom.The strange behavior takes your attention away from jaemin, the wheels in your head turns trying to figure what was he doing. Slowly you begin to build a terrifying idea, horror washes over you turning you pale. he drops the suitcase on the floor, its heavy weight makes the ground under your feet shake.. the fine hairs on the back of you neck raises.

your heart was throbbing in your ears, loud and irregular,

“sera” jaemin calls your name,

but you barely hear it, as your mind was clouded with fear, he gently shakes you “listen to me” he tries to calm you, but it’s too late, panic has already setted in.

he tries to pushes you down to sit you on the floor, now that you are standing in the farthest point of the bathroom door, between the bed and the window, but you are frozen in your place, your eyes are transfixed on the suitcase, you can’t stop watching as jeno closes the door.

Plastic, thats all you can hear.. something plastic begin unfolded. A feeling of dread crept up from the pit of your stomach, it’s too much for you to withstand, your knees buckle from beneath you collapsing you to the floor.

Tremors take over you, you look at at jaemin through a blurred vision, wanting him to deny what you think is happing, but he doesn’t.

The sharp sound of the suitcase being unzipped echos in the bathroom, he tries to calm you down as your teeth chattered in fear, his hands cup your face “shhh.. here” he take his AirPods case and puts the earbuds in your ears, they connect to his phone “here, listen to music okay? Don’t take them off and don’t move okay?”.

You open your mouth to speak but you choke, irregular shakes take over your hands, you don’t realize you were crying until his thumbs wiped the tears from under your eyes, “stay here” he repeats holding your face to make you look at him “don’t come close to that door” he only lets go after you’ve nod, he plays a song from his playlist and turn the volume to the highest setting, discounting you from the noise surrounding you. he puts the phone in your hands before he gets up and leave to join jeno.

Time dragged through you at an aginzing pace, each minute passed brought you closer to madness, the horror has became a living creature, it crept over your skin like a hungry beast. You sat in the same exact spot for hours, not daring to move. shaking and on the brink of losing your sanity. It didn’t take you long before you started praying to god to make it stop, but as always, his ears were deff to your prayers.

Hours passed with the same song replaying itself for the thousandth times, the explosive horror that toke over you before has melted into a cold lump of disfigured sadness mixed with sickness, it sat on your heart. The black sky turning blue outside, You were exhausted and worn out.

Jaemin comes into your view, scaring you for a second. You gasp and jump in your place, he shows his open palms to you in non-threatening manner, your eyes scan him for anything, you note that he’s not wearing the same clothes he was the last time you saw him. he crouches down in front of you, the strong stench of bleach coming from him, your stomach twist and you hold down the need to throw up. you scoot away from him in fear, he singles for you to take out the earbuds. He looks at you for a minute, your hand clawed in fists, your eyebrows noted in distress as hot tears fill in your eyes again. he sighs and looks away, that’s when you notice the dark red spot under his ear. the sharp intake of air you made, the way your eyes were struck, staring at his neck, and your tense body, they all screamed to him that he missed a spot. He quickly wipes the spot your eyes were looking at, cursing under his breath when his fingers return red, he gets up and walk away..

The cheerful birds chirping outside contrasted the grim atmosphere in the room, your stiff joints crack as you stand up, you carefully look around the room, scared your eyes may land on something you don’t want to see. But it’s just you and him, the room looks the same, the bathroom door is wide open with jaemin in it washing his hands, it looks like nothing had happened.. clean.

he comes out drying his hands and starts packing his belongs, he avoids your eyes.

“what the hell jaemin?!” You yell at him, encouraged by jeno’s absence, a heavy sigh leaves him while he keeps his back to you.

“is this what you’ve become now?” Your voice crack as you choke, for some reason you feel betrayed by him. You sit on the edge of the bed, hot tears flow down your face, it’s not until a pained sob breaks free from you that he turns to you.

“he was a very bad man, look at me..” He stretches his hand to you,

but you doge his touch “don’t you fucking touch me!” you get away from him “your a criminal and a killer!” Your voice rising as well as your emotions. He takes one step towards you, he towers over you, “keep your voice down” his tone threatening enough to shut you down, but the angry hot breathes that fanned over your face, the jaw muscles that seethed under his skin, and the icy look in his eyes have crushed your newly regained courage.

You try to clam your cries as you watch his hands picking the items from around the room and throwing then into his bag, not believing what they have done, what they are capable of. shiver ran down your spine at the thought, you bite your bottom lip and look away, you look outside the window trying to distract yourself.

The room’s door opens and jeno walks in, he exchange looks with jaemin and nods his head confirming something to him, something you wish didn’t understand, but unfortunately you do. Unlike jaemin he looks unbothered, normal, absolutely no guilt. you look at him with and you just hate him, you despise him. you force yourself to look away from him.

He points at you, “Why the hell is she crying now?” He asks jaemin, destine evident in his voice. you panic and do your best to tame your cries and wipe your tears, you were scared of him, of his anger, of what he could do to you.

Jaemin throws you a glance as you try to recompose yourself, but the four cold eyes that were starring at you in this particular situation are making it extremely difficult for you not cry. Jaemin shrugs his shoulders and returns to packing. strong wave of hurt hit you when he turned his back to you, it felt like he had given up on you, leaving you for jeno to take care of.

Jeno on the other hand had his hands on his hips, anger storm rising in his chest, he walks towards you and collapses on yourself in fear, pathetic pleads for forgiveness falling out of your mouth as you cry harder, he grabs your arm and pick you up, his grip threatening to snap your bone into two pieces, you cry in pain but it doesn’t faze him. “Stop crying! You want to gets us caught huh?” He violently shakes you “huh?” He demands an answer, you shake your head denying his accusations “no” your crying getting louder..

“I don’t have time for you and your childish tantrums! cut it out” he shoves you to the wall and turns, he picks the car keys with him and slams the door behind him.

You lean against the wall, tears streaming down your cheeks. You were unable to left your head feeling overpowered and too broken, your hands shaking as you gasp for air between the hiccups, yet again pitying yourself.

Jeamin who was quietly watching, sighs. his feet comes into your view, this time you don’t flinch away when his hand land on your hair and his fingers run through it. he holds your your chin and make you look up at him, his eyes watching the misery floating over your tired features. he tsk and wipes your tears away. you lean into his warm palm, your own hand holds his wrist to keep his in place, you squeeze his arm as a silent plea. he takes you in his chest, his arms wrapping around you, his tight hold reassures you. he keeps you close until you pulled away ready to leave before jeno comes back angrier than before.

You slip into your shoes and put on your jacket, you want to zip it up to keep the clod out but you can’t, you can’t still your freezing fingers enough to do it, his hands take the zipper from your fingers and he zips it up for you, your face heating up as he looks down at you and ruffles your hair. Again, he sighs and takes out his sunglasses and puts them on your face to cover your puffy eyes, you cried too much tonight.

#nct yandere #nct dream #nct mafia #nct imagines #nct jeno #nct jaemin #nct reactions #lee jeno #na jaemin #nct blurbs

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sunmoonandeddie · 3 years

Text

feelings are fatal (21/24)

pairing: bucky barnes x reader, past steve rogers x reader

word count: 4,110

summary: After the events of Endgame, you struggle to come to terms with what you’ve lost, though you’re learning that you still have something to gain.

chapter warnings: swearing, violence, fluffiness, SMUT

masterlist

a/n: you guys

“Stevie?” You murmured softly as you laid on his chest, tracing shapes on his shoulder absentmindedly.

“Yeah, honey?” He asked with a grunt, his eyes closed. He was clearly really, really close to falling asleep, but…

You couldn’t sleep.

You were wide awake, the only sign of exhaustion being the ache between your legs.

Steve had just gotten back from a mission a few hours before. It had been no contact for a week as he took down this bad guy or that bad guy in… Where was it this past time? South Korea? Seoul, you were pretty sure.

Though, you didn’t understand why he was considered ‘undercover’ anywhere, considering the fact that he kind of stood out no matter what he did.

“Have you… Have you ever thought about marriage?” You asked, voice trembling. You two had been together for a few months, but… He’d already told you he loved you.

And you just wanted to know if you two were on the same page for the future.

Your boyfriend’s body went tense underneath you, and a sense of dread filled your heart.

You knew you shouldn’t have asked such a dumb fucking question.

“Sweetheart…,” he said slowly, coughing to clear the lump in his throat as he smoothed down your hair. “You know I love you, right?” He relaxed a little as you responded immediately with an affirming nod.

You sat up as he did, straddling him as he cupped your face in his hands. You needed to be close to him, pressed against his chest and leeching his warmth.

“The man that wanted marriage… kids… the whole picket fence thing…” He took in a shaky breath. “He died in the ice… That’s not saying that I don’t want a future with you, because I do! You’re my girl. You’re my forever,” he said reassuringly, his lips finding your forehead. “I don’t need to involve the government to know that—they’ve involved themselves in my business enough—or a dumb piece of paper. If you want a ring, I’ll buy you all the rings you could ever want.” Steve gave you a warm smile, the same smile that was plastered all over tabloids and history books alike. “Besides… We don’t need a piece of paper as long as we’ve got each other, right?” He asked.

“Right,” you said without hesitation, giggling as his lips pressed to yours and he flipped you over, ready to ravish you all over again.

“Malen’kaya?”

You stared out the window above the kitchen sink, elbow deep in soapy water.

“Honey?”

Vaguely, you can hear the mirth in his voice, tinged with a bit of worry.

But you’re too busy staring out the window, watching as the storm raged outside and rain pounded against the glass.

“Sweetheart? Darling?”

You’d watched Steve leave you from this window. Your life had ended, or so you thought.

So much had changed since then, and… And it was all for the better.

You jumped a foot in the air as gentle hands found your hips. His metal appendage slipped under your sweatshirt, gently rubbing your tummy. “H-Hi.”

“Hi,” he chuckled, resting his head on your shoulder. “What’s going on in that pretty head of yours? You’ve been staring off into space for ten minutes.”

Sure enough, you realized that the formerly hot water in the sink had gone cold and most of the bubbles had disappeared.

“I was just thinking…”

“Oh, yeah? Sounds dangerous.” He let out a laugh as you smacked his arm, not caring that you were getting him wet.

“I was just thinking about the last time we were here and I was in this spot… and how much better my life is,” you said.

You could feel his sharp inhale at your words, his hand continuing to rub soothing circles into your skin. “Yeah? You mean it, pretty girl?” He asked, his lips ghosting against your shoulder.

“I mean it.”

Bliss surrounded you two like a heavy blanket as he held you, the both of you relishing the closeness.

“Maybe we should just stay here forever,” you said with a lazy smile, finishing the dishes as he held you.

Bucky hummed softly, his eyes closed. There was no way he was going to disagree. “Why are you washing the dishes by hand if we’ve got a dishwasher? A very expensive one, might I add.”

“Because,” you snorted, rinsing your hands and drying them after letting the water out. “Sometimes it’s better to do things yourself…” Heart warm, you let your head fall back against his shoulder as he slowly began to rock you back and forth.

A hum from deep in his chest lulled you, some forties song.

“Heaven… I’m in heaven,” he started to sing, surprisingly well. “And my heart beats so that I can hardly speak, and I seem to find the happiness I seek when we're out together dancing cheek to cheek…”

It was all you had ever dreamed of, when you were younger. Like in that dingy motel room. Despite knowing it was wrong and he wouldn’t take advantage of you like that, you had so wanted the Soldat to love you. You had wanted him to take you like how the older girls had talked about when you were barely a teenager.

Of course, it hadn’t been your Soldat doing that. He wasn’t like that.

But the other Soldats had been, and you were lucky that yours had protected you so well as you’d gotten older.

“Yes, heaven… I'm in heaven, and the cares that hung around me through the week seems to vanish like a gambler's lucky streak when we're out together, dancing cheek to cheek.”

“Isn’t this song usually a lot faster?” You asked, a smirk playing on your lips. “Are you just so elderly that you can’t keep up, Barnes?” Squeals filled the air as he tickled your sides, and you thrashed in his hold. “Jamie! Jamie! No!”

Hot breath tickled against your ear as he stopped. “Are you gonna let me be all sweet with you or are you gonna keep being such a brat?” He asked, squeezing you close once again.

God, you’d let him sweet with you all he wanted and then some.

“I guess you can be sweet with me,” you said after a moment, voice breathy and barely audible. “Especially since you actually aren’t a half-bad singer.”

“Not as good as you,” he said, beginning to rock you once more as lightning lit up the sky outside, a clap of thunder following soon after. “I love listening in when you’re putting Morgan to sleep… singing her those little lullabies…” He pressed a kiss to your hair before he continued on, “Oh, I'd love to climb the mountain, reach the highest peak, but it doesn't thrill me half as much as dancing cheek to cheek.” He finished the rest of the song, before humming a faint melody as your head lulled back against his shoulder.

“You’re my favorite person in the whole world, James.”

“And you’re mine.”

Bucky, the loving man that he is, led you to the couch and tucked himself in beside you. “Friday, turn on the fireplace,” he said as he wrapped his arms around you. The hunk of a man pulled you to his chest and onto his lap. “You know, if we keep joking about staying here forever, I’m gonna take it seriously and you’ll be stuck here with me.”

“That doesn’t sound like a bad thing to me,” you said, your lower lip tugged between your teeth as you leaned back against him. Your fingers ran up and down his arm, tickling his skin. “Just you and me… Maybe Morgan can come visit…”

“Or we can go live in the woods like a bunch of cavemen,” he said. You could feel his lips turning into a slow smile against your shoulder. “You wanna watch a movie? We could continue on our journey of catching me up on pop culture.”

You turned to look at him, mouth opening with a response. But as soon as you looked into his eyes, every thought you had ever had just disappeared.

The cerulean of his eyes seemed to pop, glittering in the flickering warm light of the fire. Shadows danced on his face and for a moment you could’ve sworn he was a Greek god.

You have compared him to Hades many a time in your head.

Bucky breathed out your name, his hand coming up to cup your cheek.

“James… I—” You suddenly cut yourself off as you rushed forward, pressing your lips to his in a fierce, passionate kiss. It wasn’t like the one from the aquarium. This one held so much more.

“I need you,” he breathed out as he kissed you over and over again, his hands cupping your face. His broad chest was pressed against yours as he moved one arm to wrap it around you and lay you down on the soft couch. “You have no idea how long I’ve dreamed of this.”

“Trust me, I’ve probably been dreaming of it longer,” you insisted with a snort, the two of you laughing into the kiss.

You never used to laugh with Steve during sex. It was always so serious, so intense.

You liked being able to laugh while the love of your life was holding you, touching you, kissing you like you’d never been kissed before.

Bucky pulled back enough to look you in the eyes. “Absolutely not. I’ve been dreaming of it way longer than you have.”

You sit up on your elbows so you can kiss your noses together. “Jamie… I’ve been dreaming of this since I was sixteen.” A smile spread over your face as you watched his cheeks go red.

“That’s not fair,” he insisted as he pouted at you. “If I wanted you like that back then, I would’ve been a sicko. You were allowed to have a crush on me without being a creep.”

There’s another round of kiss-drunk giggles as you peck his lips over and over again. “Not my fault. Though I do really appreciate that you didn’t see me that way when I was a literal child.”

His vibranium hand slips up underneath your top, tickling your tummy as he left a trail of kisses down your neck. “Not that I didn’t find you absolutely adorable back then, but can we please not talk about you as a child right now?” He murmured against the delicate skin of your neck.

“Yeah, I guess that’s fine,” you said, trying to joke but losing your voice as his lips found a particularly sweet spot right along your collarbone. “Oh, Jamie…” Your skin feels like it’s on fire everywhere he touches you. “Fuck…” You barely heard him curse about how small the couch was for his super soldier frame, before he scooped you up, wrapping your legs around his waist. Arms wrapping around him, you found his lips again as you kissed him deeper. “Where we goin,’ Jamie?” You asked with an impish grin.

“Right here,” he said, chuckling as he laid you down on the fur rug in front of the fireplace.

Tony had resorted to only buying fur from indigenous vendors. Hell, he’d given Natasha a whole lecture about how her faux fur and faux leather (AKA plastic) clothing and accessories were worse for the environment than real fur and leather.

Which was true.

He’d spent the last decade of his life doing everything he could to turn his life around, even though he did mess up quite a few times.

But you’d rather not be thinking about the environmental logistics of fur at the moment.

The only thing about fur you wanted to think about was how soft it was against your skin as Bucky laid you down, leaning over you and pecking your lips over and over again.

“Comfortable?” He mumbled in between kisses.

The fire crackled beside you as you nodded breathlessly, shivering as his hand found its way to the hem of your shirt, tugging on it.

“Can I take this off, darlin?’” He asked, his voice husky and deep, slow like molasses.

You were pretty sure you heard a bit of his old Brooklyn accent slipping in there.

Fuck, that was fucking hot.

“Please,” you said, lifting your arms so he could tug it off of your frame and toss it somewhere to the side.

“Fuck, you’re so fucking perfect,” the man breathed out as he looked at you under him. His hands went to your cotton sleep shorts next, and his eyes flicked up to meet yours in a silent question.

“I trust you,” you said, lifting your hips for him.

It was like a wave of reassurance had washed over him. He carefully tugged your shorts down and pulled them down your legs. The shorts did get caught on your foot, and he scowled as he had to untangle it, though he clearly wasn’t actually mad.

The air was soft and light around you, which you hadn’t been expecting. When you’d had sex with anyone else, it was always so heavy and hot and intense. Stifling, was the word you were looking for. It felt like you were performing when you were naked with anyone else.

With James, in your mismatched laundry day lingerie, you felt more like yourself than you ever had been.

“I like this,” he teased as he nodded to your Calvin Klein bralette and your bright tie-dye patterned panties. His flesh hand had wrapped around your ankle and was holding your foot up so it was up at his chest. “I didn’t know it was possible to look so cute and so sexy at the same time.” He pressed a kiss to your inner ankle, right next to the bone. “You’re the most beautiful woman I’ve ever seen.”

“Jamie,” you whined, instinctively covering your face. “Stop it.”

“What? Nah. That would make me a liar. A liar by omission,” he said as he kissed up your calf, taking his sweet time. Occasionally he’d give a little nip and smirk at the way you jumped. “And baby girl, we both know I’d never lie to you.”

You’d never been loved on the way he was loving on you. Your insecurities seemed to disappear under his heated but adoring gaze. “James…” You wanted to reach out and pull him to you for another kiss, but at the same time, you never wanted him to stop the trail he was leaving up to your knee.

“You know, I could spend hours just looking at you…,” he said as he started to lay down between your legs, his lips pressed against your inner thigh. “I went to art school back in the day… and I could fill an entire gallery with pictures, sketches, paintings, sculptures of you.”

Despite how calm he seemed, you could feel the slight trembling of his hands, could hear the waver in his voice.

He was nervous.

His baby blues focused in on the wet spot at the front of your panties, his breath hitching in his throat. “Can I touch you, baby doll? Please?” The second you nodded, his hands were on the thin, silky fabric, and you gasped as you heard the tell-tale rip.

“You ripped my panties?! Those are one of my favorite pairs!” You whined, pouting. “And all my other pairs are in the laundry!”

“Good thing I can buy you a million more,” he shot back with a sheepish grin. “And I don’t think you’re gonna need panties for the rest of the day, honey. Or clothing, for that matter.”

Rolling your eyes, you peeled your bra off your body and threw it in the general direction of the couch. “You’re such a bad influence.” But every thought in your head completely disappeared as he leaned in and his tongue ran through your slick folds. The moan he let out shook you to your core. “Holy shit,” you cursed as your hands flew to his head.

Bucky just smiled as your fingers tightened in his hair and accidentally pulled as he did it again. “You taste like heaven,” he said into your pussy as he sucked one of your folds into his mouth. Using his fingers, he spread your pussy open so he could get a good look, letting out a groan. “So pretty… So soft.”

“Jamie… Please… feels so good,” you breathed out as you instinctively tried to push his head closer again. You needed more. He couldn’t just tease you like that.

He really didn’t need anymore encouragement, and he wasn’t going to make you beg for something he’d been daydreaming about since he’d seen you again, when he’d broken out of Hydra’s control. When he’d seen you again, and even after he’d found out that you were his best friend’s girlfriend.

You had no hope of hanging on the second his tongue found your clit. For a moment, you felt like you’d blacked out as your orgasm washed over you, wave after wave of pleasure drowning you. “JAMIE!” You shouted as black dots appeared in your vision. Chest heaving, you tried to catch your breath as you laid back on the rug.

“How you doing, baby?” Bucky asked huskily as he kissed your hip, rubbing your thighs soothingly. “You still with me?”

“Yeah, I’m with you,” you breathed out as you reached for his face, pulling him close to kiss you. “You with me?”

“Yeah,” he said as he rested his forehead against yours. “I’m with you.” He smoothed down your hair, pecking your lips. “You wanna keep going? It’s up to you,” he said, voice low and soothing. “This is all about you, malen’kaya.”

Running your fingers through his hair, you kissed him fiercely. “I wanna keep going. I want you. I need you.” You didn’t hesitate as you pulled his shirt off of him, drinking in the sight of his broad chest. “Beautiful,” you said as you ran your hands over his hot skin. Your fingertips traced over the scars on his left shoulder, and you could feel the shaky breath he took. “You are, James. You’re so fucking handsome…”

The blush that dusted across his cheeks complimented that bashful smile he wore. “Now you’re just flattering me, sweetheart,” he said, kissing you as he worked off his pants with one hand.

“Commando? Really?” You drawled as you glanced down between you. However, you were mostly just trying to not let yourself panic a little at his sheer size.

Steve had been long, yes, but Bucky was thick.

What was it Peter liked to say? Thick with two c’s?

“You sure you wanna do this?” He asked quietly, pulling you out of your head. “We don’t have to.” His fingers blazed a trail along your hip, dipping into the apex of your thighs. As he waited for your answer, he slipped two fingers into your wet t, heat, slowly pumping them in and out and scissoring them to open you up, preparing you for his length. “You gotta talk to me, pretty baby…”

“Yes, I wanna do this,” you insisted, mouth falling open as he found that soft, spongy spot inside of you. “Fuck… Jamie, please… Don’t wanna wait any longer.”

Thankfully, he relented and withdrew his fingers, leaving you with an empty feeling. He lined himself up as he gave his hard cock a few strokes.

The air left your lungs as he slowly pressed against your entrance, before he finally pushed in.

“Holy shit, you’re so fucking tight, angel,” he whispered, the strands of his hair tickling your face as his head hung low. “Is it romantic of me to say that I might cum just from this?”

Laughter bubbled up in your chest as you nodded, raising your legs to wrap around his waist. “The most romantic thing anyone has ever said to me,” you teased. “I wouldn’t judge you if you did. I know how good my pussy is.”

Bucky had tears in his eyes from how hard he was laughing, nuzzling his nose against yours. All of the anxiety you had noticed before had dissipated, leaving behind the man you knew and loved.

The fire crackled beside you, and you reached up to caress his face. “You’re my favorite person in the whole world,” you said. You’d told him before, but you felt the need to remind him.

“And you’re mine,” he answered as he pushed in further, moaning lowly. He was really struggling with the whole not cumming too early thing apparently. “I haven’t had sex with anyone in over seventy years, let alone a dame as stunning as you,” he said, stuttering over his words. “Fuck… Really not trying to embarrass myself, come on, Barnes.”

He hadn’t even noticed that you were losing yourself to the pleasure he was giving you, the delicious ache the stretch of his cock brought.

“Jamie, please.”

It must’ve been the whine in your voice or something, but his eyes locked in on yours. “Fuck. I gotcha, baby girl.” Focusing hard enough to cause a vein in his forehead to pop, he bottomed out inside of you, taking a moment to compose himself before he started to move. “My sweet malen’kaya,” he said against your lips. His fingers threaded into your hair as he leaned on his elbows for support. The roll of his hips was unlike anything you’d ever experienced.

“Yes, yes, yes,” you moaned, head falling back to expose the smooth, unmarked column of your throat.

Well, it wouldn’t be unmarked for long.

You squealed as his lips found your neck, sucking and biting. It might’ve been a little juvenile, but the thought of him being so desperate to mark you up, to show the world that you were his, got you even more hot and bothered than before.

“Feel good, baby? You like that?” He asked in a growl as he jerkily moved one of his hands down your body to rub your clit, awkwardly having to take a moment to regain his balance on one elbow. “You feel like heaven. My own little corner of paradise…”

The rainstorm raged around you, but you didn’t notice or feel the thunder that shook the earth. The only thing you could focus on was Bucky.

You would’ve liked to think that you would’ve been a lot more eloquent, perhaps sexier and kinkier, if and when you two finally slept together, but every thought had left your brain. It was like he’d fucked you stupid.

It didn’t take long before you felt the familiar tightening in your belly, your nails digging into his back muscles. “Oh, god. Yes, yes, keep going,” you begged, finally finding your voice. “Yes, holy shit, yes. Feels so fucking good. I’m gonna… Oh, fuck.”

“You gonna cum for me? Huh?” He rasped, brow furrowed. “Go on… Cum for me. On one… two… three.”

Your back arched sharply off of the bed, and he wrapped an arm around you to hold you to him as he continued thrusting. Your climax came on like a tsunami, and if you weren’t so dazed from the orgasm, you might’ve been stupid enough to been embarrassed by the wet sounds of his cock sliding in and out of your core.

“Fuck, I’m so close,” he said, biting at your neck as his thrusts became sloppier and harder. “Fuck, fuck, holy shit, malen’kaya.”

“Inside me,” you said, forcing him to look you in the eyes. “Please… Need you to fill me up, Jamie. Please.”

At that exact moment, you watched a moment of panic come over him before he suddenly slammed his hips against yours before going incredibly still.

Your heart caught in your throat as you felt him cumming, spilling inside of you and filling you to the brim.

“Darlin,’ you can’t just say shit like that and not expect me to lose it right then and there,” he rasped, feeling like he was walking on air.

The tight grip your legs had around his waist stopped him from pulling out.

Not that he was complaining.

“Mmm… I need to lay down for a minute… let some blood get to my brain,” he said, lying completely on top of you and hiding his face in your neck.

“Mmm…. I think we should just stay like this forever,” you said as you closed your eyes, letting him take his comfort from you. You craved it. Loved it. Your lungs felt heavy as you (somehow) snuggled even closer to him.

“Me, too,” he said as the two of you started to doze off, utterly exhausted. “Me, too.”

#bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes x you #bucky barnes x y/n #bucky x reader #bucky x you #bucky x y/n

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a-froger-epic · 3 years

Text

Interview with a Queen “groupie”

Cross-posted to AO3. I encourage you to leave any comments you have there.

---

I compiled this interview following a long email exchange with J, a very sweet lady who went to Ealing Art School between 1972 and 1974. She knew all four members of Queen personally and was part of their larger circle of friends.

First off, you may find this hard to believe. I don’t blame you. But I assure you I’m not pulling your leg. As well as the pictures I share in this post, I have seen current pictures of J (which I will not share to protect her privacy). There is no indication as far as I am aware that she isn’t who she says she is.

Nastally, hold up. How exactly did you find this lady?

She found me. It turns out that she has been following my story Dawn of Aquarius for quite some time. The story is set in 1969. A lot of research about the era went into it, because I wanted to portray that time period - and Freddie’s and Roger’s surroundings - as accurately and realistically as I possibly could. That was what drew J in. She tells me it brought back a lot of memories for her. One of the reasons I love DoA so much is the nostalgia, she says, which genuinely means the world to me. Eventually, she talked to me in the comment section. Of course, I freaked out!

And then, I asked her for an interview, to which she replied: I will give it a go, but you must remember that I am 65 and there were great drugs in the 70s, and at 16, away from home, I had a lot!

And so...

Here’s what is IMPORTANT TO KEEP IN MIND when you read this interview.

These are one woman’s 50-year-old memories and subjective impressions. J has been incredibly kind to let me pick her brain, trying to recall everything as best as she can. In her own words:

Just remember that when I answer the questions, it is from a 16-year-old who is 9 years younger than Freddie and a little girl with no family and friends in a strange country trying to fit in. The only reason I was there, was because some hippie thought I had a unique art style.

---

J as a teenager.

[I have edited the interview together from our long, and somewhat messy at times, email exchange. Typos have been fixed and some punctuation added for clarity, but I have not changed anything J has written to me. Again, bear in mind these are personal opinions and impressions.]

So, J, how did you end up at Ealing Art School in 1972 and what was it like?

This was the painting done for the Australian school-leaving certificate.

It placed first and gave me a scholarship. I could pick France, the USA or England. As a dual citizen of the UK, the choice was easy. The scholarship paid for board and fees, so had to be and sell whatever for spending money.

This picture is from the dorm. We all had a 10pm curfew and a very thick rule book that, I am proud to say, I broke every one of them, one by one. The rooms were on the 1st and 2nd floor. We were on the first floor, rooms one side and admin staff the other end. We had two bathrooms for 18 girls. One of them had two baths. The walls were your standard half wall, so it was a given that if you had a bath you run the risk of having a bucket of cold water dropped on you. Downstairs was the kitchen and lounge room.

I want to ask you a few things about life in London in the early 70s, to get a picture of what it was really like. For example, was there alcohol at the music gigs you went to?

If it was a school, church or community hall, no. If it was a pub, yes.

Did you and your friends drink as much then as young people tend to drink now when you all went out?

No, we didn't. I think it had a lot to do with money. We didn't have the disposable income, and it was unheard of to still be living at home with the parents after the age of 20.

Was weed and LSD as big and easily accessible as depictions of the 60s and 70s would have us believe?

The drugs! Got to have drugs. Pot (weed) was easy to grow, very cheap. Used to smoke it in bongs rather than joints, more bang for your buck. Trips [LSD] were cheap, I think. About 2 pounds and you were on the high for over 24 hours with no sleep. My drug of choice was hash. Either the oil or the block. It was a nice high, but you could not function well. But if you listen to the music of the time it really does reflect what it was like, to have a group of friends over for a session. Having said all that the most outlandish and shocking drug I ever saw anyone use was the birth control pill. Didn't you have to hide that stuff away?!

Can you tell us some 70s slang that isn’t really in use anymore? What in the world does “ultra-blagging” mean? (As written in a letter penned by Freddie to his friend Celine in 1969.)

Abso-bloody-lootely!

Man, I thought I was the bees knees to be on a scholarship in London. But that didn't stop me from jigging or having a skive day. They were the days that I blagged my way into a pub, had too many lagers and ended up chundering in the gutter. That was how you knew your night was ace. I would get a right bollocking if anyone found out. It would be a bugger when all that you could find at a car boot sale was chavtastic, but sometimes you could be Jammy Dodger and tickety-boo you find something brilliant. Bob's your uncle. Anyways, I need to see a man about a dog.

[It seems to me that J uses a bit of Australian slang here, like chundering, which makes sense because she is, after all, Australian. She also provided the translation:]

Cheers

It would be my honour.

I felt very privileged to be given a scholarship that let me study in England. But being so young and having no family to guide me, it was often tempting to not turn up or give a false excuse for being sick. (I had a lot of food poisoning). These would often happen if the night before I had been drinking beer and ended up vomiting outside the pub. But in my young mind that was a good night. If any of the teachers found me drinking I would be in a lot of trouble. Often I would have to say I was holding it for someone else. Not having much clothes with me, I would buy them second hand from church jumble sales or other students and, yes, Kensington market (the market). Some of the stuff would not be very tasteful or in good condition. But sometimes you would find something that was cheap and in good condition. I will stop this text now as I must go to the toilet.

PS: Ultrablagging sounds very Freddie. Blagging was used, but not ultra, meaning to persuade someone to do something or act better than you are. They were always rock stars.

Sincerely

[It was at this point that I realised I was talking to an absolute legend. She also told me then that the majority of her old photographs had sadly been lost when her house was flooded in 1988, including most of the photographs from her stay in London. Noooo! :(]

When you went out to dance, did you have only live music? Were there DJs yet?

You know, that is hard. We did not have a DJ. Sometimes there would be a band. Often we looked for places with a band or the jukebox. I think pubs closed at 10pm and some stayed open to 12 or 1, but public transport stopped at 9. So if you had not arranged a lift then you had to make the last bus. Most of the time we would be heading back to someone's place to get stoned and then crash there. In the morning you would have to work out where you were. When I got back to Australia, the discos were all the rage. They could have been in London too but it was not cool to like disco.

How many people would show up to Queen’s gigs when they played in pubs or at, for example, the Imperial College?

Depending on the location and the night: 10 to 1000!

So how did you first meet the Queen boys?

I was at the pub talking about a band we saw last week when Brian stuck his head into our booth telling us he knew a better one. Thinking about seeing them at the stall... Roger not often, Freddie quite a lot. Often on different stalls, I think that is why I can't remember the name. [The name of the stall. Other sources confirm that Freddie also worked at Alan Muir’s stall, for example, selling shoes.]

How well did you know them?

Just looking at your tumblr account. [she has had a look at my blog, where somebody asked if ‘groupie’ meant she had slept with the band] No, I never slept with the boys. I would not say I was a close friend, but I started at Ealing Art College in ‘72 and moved in the same circles. I loved the music and could be called one of the first groupies. I had to sneak into the pubs because I was 16. Roger always teased me for being so young. They all did seem to be one very large family, not just the band. It was a group of about twenty regulars, both male and female. Everyone knew that Fred was too gay to function. We were all at the gay rights march in London in 1972, had to run after the march. Lots of sharpies [Australian slang: youth gang, thugs] wanting to bash us. Back then I was in every protest that was going, student union rights, even the secretary protest. Just part of the times, stick it to Man or Woman. I left London in ‘74 for Australia, been here ever since and lost track of the boys but have never stopped being a fan.

What do you remember about them? How would you describe their personalities?

Don’t let the trolls hate me, but I did not like Brian. I found him to be rather full of himself. Space was a subject you never brought up around Brian or you would die of old age before he stopped talking. He was always the first to speak and start a conversation and then quickly passed you off to John, who was always tired and shy. Roger was also quite shy at times. He was very self-conscious of his looks, as he felt being pretty, nobody would take him seriously. Fred, well, he was not yet the big star, so I think he was working on his stage persona. When talking to groups at parties, he had the best stories of things that had happened to him or close friends. They were very funny and very descriptive. He was the life of the party. When he had a few to drink or was the centre of attention, he would take a cigarette out of the closest person’s hand and start smoking. Now remember this is the point of view of a 16-year-old girl that was a fish out of water, trying to fit in and not having much worldly experience.

It is said that Freddie and Roger were very stylish. How did they dress in everyday life?

Fred would do his hair and makeup to check the mail. Yes, he was always turned out, but so were a lot of people. Freddie did go over the top with hats, scarfs and jewellery. With Roger, it is a surprise he was able to have kids his jeans were that tight. And his shirts were always open unless he was in a jumper. I think it could have been so that you knew he was male, as it was the start of the unisex clothing. When I travelled out of London I realised it was a London thing. When I got back to Australia everyone thought I was a show-off.

There are some disagreements about how tall especially Freddie was. I know this is a difficult thing to try and remember accurately. But do you remember?

Freddie was taller than me but everyone was. Roger was shorter than Fred, but I never saw Roger in platform shoes. I did meet up with the band by chance at Sydney airport in 1984, said ‘hello’ but they did not remember me, or if they did then they did not say anything and I did not want to be a dork. At that time Fred was the same height as me (5ft 8in/1.72m), Roger was taller than me. It made me think at the time that he had a growth spurt! John was shorter than me and Brian has always been tall. [I have a feeling the platform shoes - or lack thereof - played a vital role here! Although 172cm for Freddie seems likely.]

You said everyone knew Freddie was “too gay to function”. Attitudes towards homosexuality have changed so much that it can be hard for us, now, to fathom what exactly people must have thought of him. Was it more of a joke that he was so camp? Was it something he would have been teased for? Also, he had a girlfriend. Did you ever meet Mary or the other girlfriends?

In 1972 a whole group of us - and I am pretty sure that Fred, Roger, Brian and Tim were there - were in a gay pride march. [Since then, J has found and showed me a picture of a boy she thought was Tim Staffel, and it wasn't, so Tim was most definitely not there. Whether Freddie, Roger and Brian really were there or if J is misremembering, who knows?] Us youth believed you could not choose who you fell in love with and if it was same sex, so what? However, if it was two girls then it was every guy’s duty to change her!

It was also a time that the gayer the guy was, the more the girls were interested. Also, if a guy was gay then you did not have to worry about him and he was a good person to take with you if you were going out drinking. However, the police, parents, teachers and anyone of authority were horrified and treated them badly. I did meet Mary a couple of times at pubs and once after a gig. This is just my opinion, but I found her a bitch. It could be that I was so young. It could be that I was very Australian. It could be that she felt threatened as my accent was a magnet to people around. And the boys (Queen) were no exception. Brian had a cousin in OZ and was always asking questions. I remember that my close group of friends thought that Mary made the perfect girlfriend for Fred as they were as fake as each other. Having said that about them, I often wonder if I would think the same now and if my perceptions were just because she would not give me the time of Day. Chrissy and Jo were a lot of fun.

This was before your time, but I read that Freddie's nickname at Ealing Art School was ‘Freddie Baby’. Any ideas how this came about? His showmanship or maybe personality traits?

I don't think so. There were an older crowd that would talk like that. I think the slang ‘baby’ was a 60’s thing, like groovy baby.

How long, roughly, did Roger and Freddie have their stall? I can't find anywhere when it closed down. What did it actually look like? Was it a sort of wooden stall type of thing? Or an actual room? What were some of the other things people sold at Kensington Market? Mostly clothes or all sorts?

The markets were little divided shops. The back was brick and the walls wood. I have been trying all day to remember the name. [Of the stall.] I think it was something hard to say. More often than not it would be Freddie's dad in the store. It was still open when I left. Roger and Freddie were both in the store on Saturdays and some Sundays. There was a girl, I think Jill, who was in the store more. And during the week it could be anyone. You name it and you could get it at the markets. Second hand or designer clothes, shoes, jewellery, pot and assortments. Hair cuts, food, bric-a-brac.

Wait, wait. What? Freddie’s dad? Really now?

Yeah, it was an older Indian man. so we just assumed it was his father. It was my understanding that he started the stall then the boys would work it as the whole markets were set up for younger people, but if needed he would work there. I don't think the boys would be able to pay the rent on their own. [I have since found out that the stall closed in late 1971, and Freddie continued to work at the Market until '74, for Alan Mair and possibly others. So the stall J witnessed wasn't their original stall - explaining all the different people she saw there - but she had no way of knowing that it wasn't.] They always had incense burning that was very big in the 70s. I still occasionally bring out the sticks, but it does not last like the candles and diffusers of today. If you could get in touch with Robert Daniels, he ran ChaChaDumDum it was the stall across from Freddie. He would know the dates.

[J says it’s this look, in a picture she happened across while looking at my tumblr] Yep, that is the one. It usually means that he does not believe or agree with something that was said and is working out how to respond, or he has lost the plot.

You mentioned Roger seemed shy to you at times. Was he also quite charming? We read a lot about what a chick magnet he was. Was this the impression you had?

My favorite subject! I had a thing for Roger. Everyone has a type and mine is the blue-eyed blond. Now, before you ask, was he brunet? No, he was a mouse/dirty blond. If it was summer he would have blond streaks mostly at the ends. He knew he was pretty and was always dressed in the latest fashion and had the current hairstyle. So, being my type I was constantly watching him. Everyone slept around during that time. I did not notice Roger doing it more or less. 80% of the time he was with Jo. Yes, he was a chick magnet, but he did not do the chasing. He was always very polite to everyone. If it ever looked like there would be any conflict he would be the first to leave it. It was not that he was a coward, just not into conflict. If he saw anyone that needed help he was right there, and often had to have Freddie's back. I never saw him in a fight. He could always talk his way out of things. He was also very patient and would listen for hours to other people talk. However, he would get this vacant look in his eyes at times.

And Freddie would either click his fingers, change the subject or just give up. I don’t think that Brian noticed, and it would be fair game for John, he would see how far he could push it. Roger liked to drink a fair bit and when drunk he would be hanging all over Jo. If she was not there then he missed Jo. If, however, he thought that he or his friends were not being respected, then look out! It was a verbal volcano heading your way. That is what happened to me one time. I was trying to talk with my friends close to where a drunken Roger was and I yelled at him to shut the hell up, you wannabe blond. We/I coped a mouthful back, all in the same sentence, that finished with: Sorry, I didn't realise you were on your rags (period)! I have to have the last word, so I told him the truth: I don’t get them yet! (I was a late starter.) He went so red in the face and called me JB [jail bait] from then.

You also mentioned Roger’s cat Ziggy having kittens. I read about this but never when exactly it was. Do you remember?

I think it was winter ‘73. I remember being cold when he was asking around the pub. [To find homes for the kittens, I gather.]

Is it quite strange reading fictional interpretations of real people you knew? When did you first find out there was Queen fanfic?

No, we used to make up stories about people all the time, a verbal fanfic. Was looking up Adam Lambert and came across the fanfics. Some had me in stitches! Others, like DoA, had me hooked.

Please, allow me to be a little self-indulgent at the end. What's one thing I got totally RIGHT in DoA?

All the Ibex stuff.

What's one thing I got totally WRONG in DoA?

Roger did not have a temper, and I don’t know what the go with his father was, but he would talk about him quite a bit and was always visiting his mum. [Absolutely fair, not only did I change the timeline of Roger’s parents divorce in DoA - for lack of information at the time - but also created a completely fictional narrative around it for the sake of storytelling.]

J, thank you so much for all this, sincerely. Can you tell me a little more about yourself? Are you still an artist?

I don't paint or draw any more. At the age of a 50 the doctors operated on an aneurysm or three, and now my eyesight is very bad, I have no fine motor skills and a tremor. I was married in January 1984 and have just celebrated our 37 year anniversary. I have one daughter who is 30 and two great, although tiring grandkids. A girl, 11, and one boy, 5. I have lived my life as the average middle class Australian with great memories. Talking with you has helped me a lot to remember a time when the world was mine for the taking. When I returned to OZ I started nursing, met my best friend, and we planned that once we graduated we would go back to London to study midwifery. But I fell in love instead.

J's wedding in 1984. As you can see, she found her own blue-eyed blond.

---

Upon request, J has shared some of her past and present artwork with me.

These are from her time at Ealing Art School:

These were done later, back in Australia:

J: Did this just before Christmas as you had inspired me. It did not require fine motor skills!

So there you have it! I hope you found this little glimpse through a 16-year-old girl’s eyes as much of a fascinating read as I did. I urge everybody one more time to remember that J did not have to share any of this, and I think we all owe her a big thank you for delving into her memories. She is likely to see the responses on AO3, so I have comment moderation enabled there as I will not let anybody harass this lovely lady. The tumblr she created is @since72, but she isn’t really an active user and also very new to it all. Again, I can only urge everybody to be respectful.

If you have other burning question for J, feel free to leave them in the comments on AO3. I will either pass them on, or she may want to reply to them herself directly.

#Queen band #Freddie Mercury #Roger Taylor #John Deacon #Brian May #interview #i am so excited about this #so much into #information #JB

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a-supernatural-writer · 3 years

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hcs for poly! tlb with a fem! s/o who’s style is dark academia and is really blunt/logical and smart. she basically gives off a ‘mysterious, quiet, dark, critical’ vibe (she also doesn’t really know how to handle people who are extremely emotional and she doesn’t know how to soothe someone. she’s just really oblivious/clueless when it comes to others feelings). i’m so sorry if what i requested doesn’t make sense or if it was too much. i am seriously incapable of writing anything without making it look like an essay lmao. love your work btw 💕✨

Dark Academia Fem! S/O

Poly Lost Boys x Fem reader

I had so much fun writing this! I love the dark academia aesthetic! And it made perfect sense and it wasn’t too much! Having a lot actually helps me expand and write more so thank you. And I’m the same, once I have an idea, I write a lot, so you’re all good! And awww!!! Thank you!!! 💗💗✨✨ I really appreciate it! I hope you enjoy!

Okay, so you are very different compared to the large number of characters on the boardwalk. Your style consisted of button shirts, sweaters or turtle necks, dress pants or a plaid pleated skirts, cardigans or waistcoats, oxford shoes or even wire framed glasses if you wore them for seeing or just for the look.

To say that you caught the boys attention would be an understatement. You seemed to stand out amongst the crowd and they became curious. You were a mystery to them and they love the challenge.

Somehow, someway, after days or weeks later, you became good friends which soon lead to you dating four trouble making punks. It was tough on both parts, but it happened, and hey, you weren’t complaining.

You were very blunt when you first met them, not really interested in them and more or less interested in the book in your hands. It took a lot of “accidental” run ins to even get you to hang out with them.

You slowly opened up when they offered to take you out for dinner at a local diner. They’re constant joking soon had you letting out small, almost whisper-like giggles and tiny smiles that sent them into a frenzy.

When you would start talking about yourself, your ideas of fun were different from theirs. You liked museums, opera houses, bookstores and going to theaters to see plays. The games you played were chess and cards, and the music you listened to was old. You were pretty sure they thought you were boring but you actually peaked their interest.

After a while of being friends with them, they asked you out. You liked them and the only logical step was to see if you liked them the same way they liked you was to date them, so you said yes.

In general, them having a girlfriend with a 1940s/1950s dark prep look was fun. David and Dwayne like it the most. Paul next, then Marko.

David actually really likes picking out your clothing on most days. You have an extensive collection of clothing with material from cashmere to linen, all the colors consisting of browns, black, cream and even a little dark green.

His favorite thing to put you in is trench coats. Doesn’t matter what color it is, he just likes seeing you in them. Also, there are a handful of times that he has MADE you wear his trench coat. Yeah it almost swimmed on you, but he thought it made you look cute and it fit in perfectly with your look.

Dark academia isn’t only your style, but it’s your way of life. David is the one that plays chess with you. You had to reteach it to him and pretty soon, the two of you had your own little set up in the cave that was always ready for a game of chess.

David is sort of like you… in a way when it comes to others feelings. But deep down he knows that he really likes you and tries to show it the best he can. He took you to a theater to see a play that you were constantly talking about and so he took you on a date. You being you, didn’t realize that’s what it was until he told it straight to your face. Let’s just say you were speechless for the next hour.

Also, when it’s just the two of you, deep inside the cave where your nest is, classical music is playing from your record player. It could be Beethoven, Tchaikovsky or Mozart. Whoever it is, David is the one that will listen to it with you the most. I think he really enjoys classical music and he enjoys it even more if the two of you are cuddling in your bed.

Occasionally Dwayne would join the two of you. You would be sitting in between David’s legs as Dwayne sat in between yours, his head leaning back against your chest. It was like a cuddle pile… cuddle train?? Whatever you wanted to call it, it was cuddling while the three of you relaxed listening to classical music. And it was darn cute.

Dwayne loves listening to you go on and on about any books you were reading at the moment. Whether or not it was nonfiction or even about any type of history. He was down. He lived through a lot and he knew about half of the stuff you gushed on about, but for some odd reason, it never bored him when you talked about it.

He would be the one to get you new books, leaving you sweet little notes tied to them. Of course you thought it was just him being nice and thanked him for it without thinking there was any romantic meaning behind it. Yeah he was one of your boyfriends but it never really crossed your mind that way. He would just shake his head at your obliviousness and give you a small peck on the lips.

Don’t ask him why, but his favorite look on you is a light cream colored blouse with a plaid skirt and Mary Jane shoes. Dwayne is a leg man so… he’s very happy when decide to show off some skin if you decide not to wear knee-socks or stockings with it. Even if you did wear them, he would still be attached to your side the entire night.

Like David, Dwayne would bring you out to a lot of places that were opened late at night. If there was an art exhibition in town or even a museum that was open late, just say the word and he will happily drive you on his bike. Heck, David might even tag along.

Also, late night bookstore dates… oh my heart, it’s too sweet it hurts. There are times that he does have to throw you over his shoulder when the bookstore is closing and you're pretty much refusing to leave. When he does that, you just stay frozen over his shoulder, not knowing if you should be blushing or cursing at him for carrying you like a sack of potatoes.

If anything, you and Dwayne connect very well. You’re naturally very quiet and so is he. Not much is said between you two but there's a mutual understanding that can’t be explained. While the others are out causing trouble, you and him are on the sidelines watching hand in hand or your reading and he's just staring at you as you do so.

Paul and Marko kind of give you whiplash. They’re loud and rowdy and definitely 100% opposite from you. But they interested you. They had a very chaotic outlook on life which made you ask many questions.

Paul found your look sexy. He’s horny and you give off preppy school vibes, he’s living for it 24/7. Constant teasing of you giving him ‘private lessons’ which results with you whacking a book against the back of his head. But it doesn’t stop the reddening of your ears which doesn’t make him stop.

This man is also your designated jewelry expert. You only wear some accessories and they're very simple. So you are very surprised when Paul finds you jewelry that is your style and collects it for you. You like leather watches, guess what, he’s got it for you. You want some fancy victorian looking brooches, he’s got that too. Simple rings with a single jewel in the middle, expect constant ‘will you marry me’ jokes, but he gets you the best.

Also, he’s not overly big into your music selection. He does try to get you into his type of music, which you only like very few and far between. But when you do get him to listen to your type of music, it’s only if you agree to listen to his music the next night. You guys come up with a system and decide to switch every few nights.

Each of the boys have their favorite look on you and Paul's is when you wear a button-up of any color with a simple black tie, a pencil skirt and a pair of Dr.Marten boots. He especially likes the tie… for reasons. God damn it, you know the reasons, get out of here.

He’s a very affectionate boy and he finds your looks over confusion some of the cutest shit he’s ever seen. Probably the first one to tell you that he loves you and you honestly like glitched out. Did you feel the same way? Yes, but poor little thing you doesn’t say it right away, but Paul knows that you aren’t really used to saying things like that without warming up to it. Which is okay. He knows even if you don’t say it.

He definitely steals one of your blazers to put pins on it. Marko helps, putting a few patches on it that they both know you would like. It’s the one item that stands out in all of your clothing and you will wear it if they ask you to.

Marko definitely thinks the look is cute and it suits you very well, but why no color?! You wear dark colors but nothing bright like the colors that are on his jacket. He tries to slip in some colorful clothing into your everyday look, it never goes as planned but you give him an A for effort.

He loves how dark you can be at times though. You want to go to a local graveyard just because? Sure! Let’s go! He’s your designated graveyard buddy. You have many date nights there, looking at all the different gravestones and finding it interesting when you jot down some names in one of your notebooks.

Speaking of notebooks, you have many of them. They were filled with notes from books you’ve read, real life observations or even just some random poetry and short stories that you wrote. Marko would go through them a lot and even sometimes draw little doodles or rough sketches that were thought up from your writings.

When you spend nights down at the Boardwalk, your go to drink isn’t a slushie or a milkshake or even a soda. It’s coffee or tea. Yeah, and only Marko knows your drink orders by heart. None of the others seem to remember them correctly which you thank them for trying but Marko has got them all beat.

Marko likes seeing you in sweaters and in your trousers or linen shorts with chelsea boots. If anything, when the two of you are alone, just wearing a knit sweater and shorts were perfect for him. He likes how cozy and warm you look. He’s very happy when he cuddles you and you are warm.

Now when they tell you that they’re vampires, you think that they’re joking. Vampires aren’t real, they’re a work of fiction. Yes there was a real man named Dracula, but there was no way that they were actual vampires.

Then they showed you hard proof and then there was no denying it at that point. Instead of running away, you were fascinated. You wanted to understand your boyfriends vampire ways that lead to you conducting extensive research and a notebook dedicated to them.

They showed you everything about them, how they feed, to which you didn’t bat an eyelash of watching them feed one night. You were one morbid chick but they saw that as a plus that you didn’t react. You had graveyard dates for crying out loud, nothing really surprised them at that point.

Flying came next and they had a lot of fun showing you just how high they could go with you in their arms. You never screamed at the height, you were too caught up in seeing the overhead view of the town. You could get used to seeing a view like that every night.

Then came the other things; how they slept before you came along, what actually hurt them and what didn’t. There was one time that you stared at their vampire faces for hours because you were taking notes on how their facial features changed.

Soon you had to stock up on more turtlenecks because of the many bite marks they would leave behind from feeding on you if the weather was bad one night. It wasn’t tough adapting to their occasional feeding. A lot of your clothing already covered up your skin so it was easy to hide from people on your nights out.

Not too long after, they popped the question. Would you want to be a vampire? Live forever, never grow up? Be with them for all eternity? You didn’t really need to think about it for too long, you knew what your answer was and so did they even if you didn’t say it out loud. You loved your boys and not much would change.

When you did change, it was entertaining for them to watch. You soon started taking down notes about your progress, comparing and contrasting your experience to their own.

To the eyes of many, you became even more dark and mysterious. You had an aura around you that drew people in, it’s what got you your four vampire boyfriends, only now, it brought in your meal for the night.

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