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slasherrabbitmadness · 3 years ago

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Victorian DILF Brahms x Female Reader

Slasher Victorian AU series Featuring Brahms Heelshire.

Divider by https://firefly-graphics.tumblr.com/

Series: Don't forget who you belong to.

Chapter 1

Prompt: 79

Brahms taps his foot under his large, dark oak desk. He taps his pencil on a stack of papers, legal documents for his clients, ranging from the mundane like Mr. Krueger complaining about his neighbor Mr. Voorhees, ranging from 'standing there, menacingly' to ' He breathed in my direction.' To the extreme as an abuse case against a young vulnerable girl named Carrie.

Brahms pinches the bridge of his nose, the paper in front of him the most important and he was to not be paid for solving the problem. He picks up the paper to re-read the sections that stuck out the most.

We are advising you on your son, Lawrence, we regret to inform you of his wild, ruckus-filled behavior. We understand that young boys have a degree of tomfoolery to them but he, Lawrence, is turning out to be one who fancies himself an urchin.

Brahms grunts, eyes scanning the page,

He recently had put candy, that was similar in appearance to the headmistresses medication.

Brahms chuckles,

He also has set up a boxing club. He charges the boys a pence a piece for admittance and takes bets against the two boys fighting.

Brahms bit his lip, his cheeks turning pink. He clears his throat as a co-worker glances his way.

His face fell as he re-read the final line.

If these behaviors fail to be corrected over the upcoming break, we recommend a crammer school for young Lawrence.

Brahms slams the paper down on the desk, he leans back in his chair, gripping the arm of the chair, "Crammer school" he seethes. Brahms made a vow to Gerti, to never let their son end up at such a place, he was to be a gentleman and a gentleman comes from a gentlemanly background. Not a Crammer school for the slow and sluggish, a Gentleman's brute offspring to be fed into the army for slaughter.

"Any plans for the night?"

Brahms snaps his head towards his co-worker, Mr. Bates.

"Any plans for the night, Brahms? Taking the maid out for another moving picture?" Mr. Bates grins and nudges Brahms's shoulder with his elbow.

"Ah, no, she's been," Brahms twirls the pencil in his fingers, "Busy."

Brahms glances at his desk, the picture of his late wife and son.

Mr. Bates's eyes follow Brahms's, "You know, I'm sure Gerti doesn't mind. Lawrence adored her, yes, I'm sure that boy is dying for a new one," He rests his clammy hand on Brahms's shoulder, "After all, a boy's best friend is his mother."

Brahms recoils, "By God, Norman, listen to yourself," Brahms brushes off Norman's hand as he stands, "A Boy needs friends his own age," He grabs his important papers, stacking them loosely, he yanks his briefcase from under the desk to slam it on his desk, "Not a mother as a friend."

You gleefully prepare the ginger beer, the old beige and brown bottles embedded with the Heelshire name. You scan the current bottle in your hands, "1771" you read aloud, "My goodness."

You delicately place the plates on the table, humming as you admired the beautiful set. "This costs more than one week's wage." Another tentative glance, "Which is why..." You twirl in the drawing-room, "I'm getting another job!"

Your mind raced back to last week...

The carriage ride was bumpy, every bump from a pothole to a large rock made your already uneasy stomach flip.

"Almost there, miss!" The coach called out to you, "Sorry for the ride, Daniel has made a donation to get the road fix, beautiful ain't it?"

"Yes, that's very kind of him." You opened the flyer in your hand, you read the bold letters over the top,

Apple Pickers wanted weekend work. Only at Daniel Candy's Farm

"Tis nice of him to hire those with no work history or those already with a job, ain't it?"

"Yes, that's very kind of him." You repeated. You brought your attention to the upcoming estate, the large white manor stood out among the hues of greens, from the grass to the pine and oak trees in a neat line leading to the entrance of the manor.

The coachman helped you out of the carriage, "Now, miss, memba' to curtsey and all that."

"Thank you, and thank you for being so kind."

"I only hire the best."

Your breath caught in your throat, eye bugged out to the tall man who appeared to appear as if from nowhere. You looked up, the source of the voice, the deep baritone still carried itself within you.

"My coachman, I only hire the best, shall you prove me right?" His voice was like thick honey, his onyx eyes were warm, his hand was large with not a hint of labor upon it.

You froze, swallowed a hesitant hello, hand reached for his, "It's is very nice to meet you," His hand melded in yours, his thumb rubbed the back of your hand in small delicate circles, "Mr. Robitaille"

"Daniel works just fine." He flashed a bright smile, his eyes twinkled as they stared into yours.

"Daniel," you bite your lip, "It's nice to meet you, Daniel." and curtseyed.

He led you along a light dirt path adjacent to the abundant apple trees. The birds in the trees sang a beautiful melody, they danced between the trees, the songs becoming more jovial as you and Daniel walked.

"You'll be working for the next three weeks, Thursdays," He waved to one of the workers picking apples, "Fridays," He nodded at a male with a wheelbarrow full of apples, "and Saturdays." He placed his large hand on your upper back, "If that is alright with Mr. Heelshire?"

You squeaked at the mention of Brahms, "Ah, yes,"

"Hesitation my dear, would he not be so accepting of a free woman working where she pleases?"

You shook your head, tucked a loose strand of hair behind your ear, "It's not that, he just..."

"He doesn't know." Daniel finished for you with a knowing laugh.

You shied away from his words, eyes took in the mass of workers, happily picking apples, chatting with one other, the made it look easy being up twenty feet high on the ladder to pick the apples.

"Pray tell," Daniel removed his hand from your upper back, "Why do you need this job?"

"Well, money." You said earnestly. "I could use the extra money is all."

"For family?" He asked, accepting an apple from one of his workers. He admired the deep red color, "A gift for Mr. Heelshire?"

You wrung your hands together. You chocked in a breath, "It's private."

Daniel stopped, a low chuckle as you had noticed he stopped. He grinned as you fiddled with your fingers, face turned to the ground, a coy smile over your delicate features.

"What's his name?" Daniel stepped to you, his baritone sent a shiver down your spine. "I'd like to hear it be spoken from such shy lips." Daniel rolled the apple in his hand, nudged it towards you, gesturing for you to take it.

You hesitated, your hands shook as you tentatively grabbed the apple. You stared at the red fruit, the color deep and rich, "His name is Daniel Cain, well, Dan, he goes by Dan."

A startled laugh erupted from Daniel. You jumped, eyes darted to the workers around you, their eyes fell upon Daniel. "Do tell, does this Dan Cain happen to be studying at University of London?"

You stammered out, "Yes,"

"How admirable. So tell me, a gift for the young man?"

"No, it's." You roll the apple in your hand, you looked up at Daniel, "A new dress, I wish to look beautiful, well," You grimaced, "At least while with him."

Daniel frowned, his hand reached for yours, you gasped as he held firm, "Pardon for being cliche, but you are already beautiful, How your hair shines in the sun, to how the sun lights up your eyes, your timid nature is quite endearing." He winked at you.

"Come," Daniel gestured, "I shall introduce you to Carrie, she'll be your site boss for the next three weeks."

You jump from the front door slams open, Brahms shouting as he entered, "Please come to the foyer, my love."

You cringe, the nickname spills so easily from him, saying it like it was second nature, "Yes, Sir, be there soon."

"This instant, my love. I need you here."

Your eyes linger on the half-set table, too busy with your dancing and reminiscing to fully finish your job. "Coming, Sir!"

You walk out of the drawing-room, feet picking up pace as you make your way down the narrow hall, the green carpet embroidered with gold string, bought in Egypt, fairly recently. The walls a dark wood, matching the soil in the garden. The small lamps light up the hallway in a yellow hue. The walls lined with portraits of Heelshires past, their eyes unnerved you with every quick walkthrough you made through the hallway.

Brahms sighs and lets his shoulders relax as you step into view. He removes his jacket, tossing it on the coat rack, "Are the Victorian sandwiches done? Is the Ginger Beer ready?" He asks while loosening his tie, his adam's apple bobbed, "Hm?"

You wince "I was a little distracted, I'm terribly sorry, Sir."

"Brahms, we've been over this, my love, you may call me Brahms."

"Sorry, Brahms." You choke out his name, "Is there anything you need of me at this moment?" You place a warm smile over your face, eyes looking at him as he took off his custom-made shoes.

"Is it so bad for a man to want a woman to greet him when he's come after a hard day's work?" His bright smile made rock in place, heart thumping rapidly in your chest. "You know how good it feels to see your warm face as I get home?"

"I can't say I do." You answer earnestly.

"Do you not feel a sense of joy as I come home?"

You squint your eyes, gaze adverting his, you cough "Yes, I do." You look back at him, "I am simply your maid, Si-Brahms." You gesture to him to follow you down the hall, "I feel great joy when I see you come home to your...home."

"Our home. This place is just as much mine as it is yours." Brahms steps in front of you, gesturing for you to follow him. "You sleep here, eat here, are here every weekend..." He glances at the paintings in the dimly lit hall, "I mean, you must like it if you are here in your free time."

You flinch, nails scratching in the back of your hand, "Uhm, Yes."

Brahms reaches the table as he stares back at you, his eyes narrow, "Sit." He pulls out the ornate chair, his hand padding down the expensive leather, "Enjoy lunch with me."

You smooth your dress from behind as you sit, scooting up as he pushed you closer to the table. Brahms rounded the table, a jovial smile as he sat himself across from you, delicately placing a napkin on his lap.

"Now, how has your day been?" He starts, shoving a victoria sandwich in his mouth, rolling his eyes in ecstasy, "Mhm, my love this is delicious, you outdid yourself."

You giggle, shaking your head, "No, Brahms it's nothing. Just same old same old."

"You sell yourself too short." Brahms clears his throat, "This weekend," He wiped his hands of crumbs, "My son is coming home, he hasn't been excelling at school like he should be," He took a sip of the ginger beer, an approving smile after he gulped, "So I shall be sending him to a nearby crammer school."

You nod, "I'm sure in the end it'll work out for the best." He sips the beer, letting the taste linger on your tongue, "After all, probably be for the best he comes back home. I can imagine boarding school can be isolating after a death," You froze, eyes wide in panic as you glance at Brahms, "I'm so sorry." You place down the glass of beer.

Brahms laughs, the corner of his lips pulling up, "No no, don't be sorry, it's very true." He sips again, "Very true. Ever since Gerti crossed onto the other side, little Lawrence has been lost." He coughs, "He'll be more than thrilled to be home, hid loving father, his second favourite lady ready to greet him with open arms."

"This weekend?" you ask, "This Saturday?"

Brahms stills, his eyes squint, "Yes, I already said this weekend."

Your throat constricts, a burning sensation spreads throughout you. You look away, eyes catching on the ornate couch.

Brahms reaches his hand out to you, his thumb running on the back of your hand, "My love, what?" He raises his brow, leaning in, "What's the problem with Saturday?"

"I have something private to attended to." You state, eyes falling back to his, "I won't be here to greet Lawrence." You swallow, the burning searing through you, "I'm terribly sorry."

Brahms stood up, one stride and he was at your side, "Tell, why won't you be there? It mustn't be family matters, they live awfully far away, days by train." He leans in, "Something in town perhaps?"

You nod with a smile, "I shall be away this coming Friday and days thereafter, a flower picking job just a town over, the lady of the manor is allowing me room and board, very sweet of her." You sip more ginger beer, hands shaking as you brought the glass to your chapped lips.

Brahms places his large hand on your upper back, "Flower picking job?"

"Yes."

"What flower?"

"Excuse me?"

"What flower are you picking?" Brahms leans in closer to you, his other hand resting on the table, "I'm sure you know."

You grin at him, "Narcissus, beautiful flowers." You gulp back more ginger beer.

"That's a nice flower. Beautiful." He leans in closer, his eyes holding a critical glint. "Pray tell, how will you be picking a flower out of season?" He smiles down at you, licking his teeth, his hand clenches around yours. Your mouth agape, breath held. You choke as he leans closer to you, "I know apples are in season."

The air felt thick, the air from your lungs fell from your mouth in rapid breaths, the grandfather clock ticked, each one was felt in your spine. You jump as the grandfather clock thunders out his five pm chime.

You breathe in, "It's only for three weekends," You start, "No more than that."

Brahms chuckles, his fingers pressing into your back, "No more than that...why?" He rests his elbow on the table, chin in his palm, "Why the work when I could easily up your pay."

Your lips in a tight line, eyes dry, bugging out as you stare into his, "Savings." You lie.

Brahms slides his arm around your shoulder, his bicep flexing on the back of your neck, his hand running up and down your arm. He leans into your ear, "If by savings, do you mean Dan?"

#Brahms heelshire #Brahms x reader #Brahms x you #Brahms imagine #Brahms heelshire x reader #Brahms heelshire x you #Brahms heelshire imagine #Female reader #sfw #Candyman #daniel robitaille #Victorian era #Victorian AU #edwardian era #Dain Cain

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tobi-momo · 4 years ago

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You Belong With Me

“What was she so mad about?” Your voice bleeds through his phone as he scribbles on his homework with his number two pencil, sighing at your question. He looks up briefly to his window to see you at your desk across your two properties’ filing the papers for your math class, organizing your work. Your phone is sandwiched between your shoulder and your ear, your eyes narrowed as you focus on what assignments are what.

“Kei?”

He shakes his head as his mind snaps out of the daze, his golden eyes flicking down to his work. “Uh,” he sighs as he re-grips his pencil, “I teased her a little bit and she got mad,” he finished. You chuckled before covering your mouth with your hand, finally looking up at the man through your clear panes.

“You’re kidding,” you giggle, a smile leading onto Kei’s face while he listens to your voice, although refusing to look up at your face, he shakes his head in a joking dismissal.

“No, I’m not. But we are never mentioning it again.”

“Oh, good luck getting me to keep quiet!” You shout as your back straightens against your desk chair, a smug look playing on your face once the blond male looks up at you.

He stands up, a reciprocating smirk laying on his lips before he says, “You will,” before he takes his phone away from his ear, pressing the “hang up” button and raising his arm to close the drapes. You laugh with satisfaction while you exit his contact, turning on some music and tossing your phone on your bed before cleaning up your area and strumming your fingers like an imaginary guitar.

He opened his curtains expecting to see you sulking while doing your work, only to see you dance like an idiot while you blast your music, your pencils acting as a microphone as you perform your concert in front of your stuffed animals. He could hear the music from across the yard, him identifying it as your shared playlist that you two made a couple years back, the duration over fifteen hours as about three-hundred songs reside. An accidental chuckle escaped him as his eyes rested on your jumping figure for just a couple seconds. It was for entertainment. Yeah. That’s it.

~.~.~.~

Sticking your fabric marker on the construction paper, you write out your message to Kei.

“I love you”. It was a message that would tell him that he deserves the best and nothing less. It was something that you treasured and wanted to share that value with him. Something that told him that he belonged with you.

You hoped that one day you’d be able to give it to him, to tell him how you really feel, to show that you can do a better job than her, but you never got the chance. Carrying the folded slip in your pocket, ready to pull out, his phone rings. As you sit on the bench on the side of the road, you wonder how long it had been since you had seen him really smile. You had made him smile a lot before, even if he doesn’t smile a lot genuinely, there are some times where real happiness seeps through his facade. You like it when that happens, always have. You noticed how much his happiness had reduced over the course of these last few months, though.

He answers the phone very monotone, very uninterested. He sounded obligated while he spoke to his girlfriend, sighing sharply once he hung up.

“What was that about?”

“Just drama. Kind of sick of it at this point.” He sticks his phone in his pocket, looking over to your concerned expression. “It’s nothing to worry about,” he says while rolling his eyes, placing a soft hand on your head and letting it rest. His hand retracted quickly when the sound of his name rings through his ears, his head whipping towards his girlfriend's figure. He readjusts his glasses, sitting straight up and swinging the strap of his school bag over his shoulder before he gets up and sluggishly walks across the street, meeting up with the one he was set to have a date with later. He subtly waved to you prior to turning his head away and continuing his stroll with his date hanging on his arm. You ignore the glare served your way when you wave back to him, forgetting the multiple reasons of why you wanted him away from her so he can enjoy his date. Hopefully.

~.~.~.~

As you stand on the bleachers of Kei’s game, you watch him stride over the court and jump to block the ball, a playful smirk residing on his lips as he sends the ball to the other side. You clap for him, shouting praises his way in hopes he might hear you over everyone else. Especially her. The screaming and unnecessary noise making your ears bleed a bit. You didn’t mean to be irritated by it, but the pulse on your forehead and the grit of your teeth made it painfully obvious you didn’t really like her.

When the end of the game hit, you were overloaded with joy at Kei’s victory. You hurriedly make your way over to him before gripping him tightly in a hug, not caring about the sweat that drips off his body. You could feel his arms flex as he raised his arms to hesitantly reciprocate your actions until his arms completely dropped, his body stiff.

“What the hell?” He muttered under his breath as he firmly moved you aside to walk away. Following after him, you let your head peek out from the side of his back, watching it all occur in front of you. “What’s this?”

“What? Nothing, Kei,” she mewls, setting her hands on her boyfriend’s shirt as if she thought he was silly.

“Yeah, we were just, uh, talkin’.” The man before her fibs.

“Not according to what I just saw,” Kei accuses the two with a furrowed brow, fed up. You come out from behind him, glaring at his girlfriend in hate. This was it.

“Don’t worry about it, man,” the man dismisses, turning to keep the conversation with her going.

Stepping forward, you place an arm in front of Kei, stopping his movements as you eye his girlfriend. “Tell me you were not just flirting with this man and we’ll leave.”

“I wasn-”

“Don't,” you pause, taking a deep breath as you watch her take a step back, “don’t lie to me, or you will regret it,” you threaten, a sharp glint in your eye telling her that you are oh so serious about this. Behind you, Kei watches as you make his girlfriend stammer on her words, a subconscious smile leaking on his face.

She stomps away with anger, the man beside her moving away as well, scoffing.

~.~.~.~

He didn’t say much on the way home; you trailed behind him as he walked away in part anger and denial. You didn’t really know what to say. Should you go back and find the girl and beat some sense into her? Should you give some words of the wise to Kei? Would he even take it?

As you watch him slow down to match your pace, you grow confused. You were headed to your place, so why was he suddenly following? “Kei?” He hums in response, his head hanging low. “Would you like to stay at my place? I can make coffee and we can stay up shit-talking our least favorite people,” you giggle and softly bump into his side, a stifled chuckle escaping him.

“Whatever,” he mumbles with an obvious smile as he continues to walk with you. When you quietly shut the door and take your shoes off, you softly tread to the kitchen to turn on the coffee machine- the man that you took home followed, his arm planting on the marble counter as his eyes trail over your moving figure.

As you sit on the stool next to him beside your kitchen island, you converse about the drama he’s been scooped in, him rolling his eyes twice a minute and his irritation level going off the charts as he recalls the events. He hated it, you could tell. He made it pretty obvious he wasn’t happy about it, too.

“Are you still going to the dance with her tomorrow then?” You speak curiously, twirling your fingers around each other while staring blankly into the marble as you awkwardly sit there, awaiting an answer.

It takes him a second to respond, a long sigh and a deep thought coming into play in his mind once he looks over to your spaced expression. Does he really want to go? Did he want to go with her, or with someone else- you? “Probably.”

Oh. “Are you sure you wanna do that? After what happened today?”

“Why not. Nothing better to do,” he justifies, shrugging. Yeah, you probably should have seen that coming.

The note that resided in your pocket seemed to crumple a little bit when you came to terms with the fact that he may never notice you the way you wanted him to.

~.~.~.~

“Are you going?” Kei asks over his phone as he takes his suit out of his closet.

“Ah, no,” you breathe out as guilt pools in your stomach, your elbow balancing sitting on your desk while dozing off into something that is not mathematical equations.

“Oh,” is all he says before telling you he needed to get ready, giving his goodbye.

After the call ends, you see the light fading away from his room as he closes the drapes, giving you a sign to start working again. You wondered what would happen if you possibly showed up. You originally were going to go, but the date that canceled soon beforehand gave your mind a gentle squeeze, telling you that the dance wasn’t for you. Still, the tiniest urge told you to make an appearance. You groan in waver, giving in.

~.~.~.~

You felt good. You felt really good. Wearing your planned outfit to this dance, you make your way inside carefully, minding the crowd. You catch the eye of the one girl that you held a grudge against, watching her grope another man on the dance floor. You roll your eyes in disgust as you move your head around to find a tall blond in the crowd. He leaned against the wall across from you his arms crossed while his dilated pupils trace the light that bounces off the floor.

“Hey,” you greet him, his attention whipping to you as he raises his head.

“Hi,” he reluctantly answers you while standing straight up, a relieved smirk leading onto his lips. “I thought you weren’t coming.”

“I didn’t want to put my outfit to waste,” you smile, spreading your arms to show your attire.

“Yeah, well you came at perfect timing,” he points towards his girlfriend which you identified earlier, although he seemed like he didn’t care all that much.

Gripping the folded paper in your pocket, you slip it out with two fingers confidently. “I have something to tell you,” you admit, your eyes staying centered on his black suit.

“Go on,” he eggs, hands staying at the side of his body while he watches you fluster yourself. It takes you less than a second to shove the note in his stomach and turn around, your face turning hotter and hotter every moment. Your hands lay against your cheeks as your nerves rattle beneath your skin, your ears tingling when you hear a sweet chuckle glide against his lips. “You should have told me a long time ago, Y/n. I wouldn’t have to deal with,” his eyebrows turn up as his head tips towards the dancing figure just a couple of feet away from you guys, “...that.”

You turn around slowly, disbelief covering your face when you look at his smug expression. “Are you kidding me? You’re telling me this,” you gesture at the both of you with your pointer finger, “could have been something a long time ago?”

He sucks in through his teeth, taking a grip on your arm and pulling you with him as he walks through the crowd to the middle of the room. “Yep. Guess you missed out.”

“Says you,” you roll your eyes with attitude as you pick up your pace and place your hand in his.

He knew he belonged with you, he was just wondering when you would admit that.

aaa here it is! three days of work! sry i havent been posting lately ive been working <3 (reupload bc tumblrs a little bitch)

REQUESTS: OPEN

reblogs are VERY appreciated!

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luxshine · 2 years ago

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I posted 1,680 times in 2022

That's 303 more posts than 2021!

860 posts created (51%)

820 posts reblogged (49%)

Blogs I reblogged the most:

@drifting-pieces-blog-blog

@ragnell

@lunaresystem

@enigmatist17

@stealth-liberal

I tagged 898 of my posts in 2022

Only 47% of my posts had no tags

#amigurumi - 280 posts

#murphysplushtrips - 279 posts

#murphysplush - 273 posts

#yarncraft - 215 posts

#moon knight - 174 posts

#sdcc2022 - 74 posts

#cats - 74 posts

#webcomic - 70 posts

#yarncrafts - 62 posts

#building blocks - 61 posts

Longest Tag: 93 characters

#as she complained about her status as a glorified cameo and wanted byrne back on her pencils.

My Top Posts in 2022:

Queerbaiting in real life -and it's not what you think it is.

So this is no longer 2 cents. This is a whole dollar because I am sick and tired of certain parts of the fandom discourse re: what happened with Misha. Because I KEEP reading people having to "forgive" (or, conversely "hating") Misha for "queerbaiting" us and In the wise words of Inigo Montoya: You keep using that word, it doesn't mean what you think it means.

(Once again, YOUR feelings about the situation ARE valid, yes. You have the absolute right to feel hurt over everything that happened. BUT I also urge you to consider WHY are you hurt, and WHO hurt you. Especially given the horrible biphobia that the fandom showed even BEFORE Misha spoke up)

Queerbaiting is, at its core, "the practice of implying non-straight relationships or attraction to engage or attract an LGBTQ audience or otherwise generate interest without ever actually depicting such relationships or sexual interactions". Which means that no, a real person can't "queerbait" because come on, do we want everyone to parade their private lives around all the time? (This is even HARDER for say, a bi person. I mean, are we REALLY going to start asking for queer credentials and demand every bi person is in a poly relationship with partners of more than one gender just to prove they're bi? WTF people!)

More importantly, what kind of benefit would this weekend have? No one sold tickets "so you could hear the most incredible secret of Misha's life", and while Stands did send that mail about the pins and everything... well, if everything HAD been a pr move, don't you think it would've lasted MORE than three days? I mean, at least until SOMEONE bought something and couldn't take the order back!

And besides... We, society, know EXACTLY what "RL" queerbaiting looks like. And yes, the younger members of fandom may not know about this, but I side eye any 30 + year old Queer who ignores this.

Allow me to introduce you to t.A.T.u:

youtube

This video? Was SO SHOCKING in 2002 that the UK wanted to forbid it world wide.

t.A.T.u was a Russian (YES, I know) girlband formed by Lena Katina and Julia Volkova in 2001, when both girls were 15. They came from a children's music group named Neposedy and had been scouted specifically by producer and director Ivan Shapovalov in order to fulfill a very curious concept he had.

The name of the group (usually pronounced Tattoo) comes from the phrase Та любит ту (ta lyubit tu) which literally means "This girl loves that girl" so... yeah, the concept was VERY Clear if you add the video up there, right?

And I mean it, there was NO official image of these two that was not dripping with sapphic longing

See the full post

108 notes - Posted April 27, 2022

I can't sleep, so hey, my .2 cents on what happened.

First, disclaimer: I am a cis-bisexual woman who was lucky enough to be born to two very open minded parents (and, ironically a match made in homophobic heaven. My dad was gay, and only married because he wanted kids and he didn't want to come out to his mother, My mom is a lesbian who, up until three years ago, was in the most transparent closet in the universe and ALSO married just because she wanted children and didn't want to come out to her family, AND the other option was a convent. So, yeah) and while I had had that one very awkward "but are you SURE you are not 100% gay? I mean, you can be gay and we'll love you anyway" conversation I think every bi and pan person has had at some point in their lives, I never had the impression that I had to HIDE that I liked both boys and girls when I was growing up from my PARENTS.

Clear point there: My parents.

So in a way, the whole "Coming out to family and friends" is a bit alien to me.

Even now, I didn't really came out as much as I stopped denying it when asked point out. So, when the first news came out about Misha's slip of tongue on Friday? I was happy for him because THAT's exactly how I -and many, many of my Bi friends- ended up coming out. Casually, by accident, and trying to change the subject to a different thing.

HOWEVER... I also don't blame him for correcting himself ("taking it back") for two reasons:

If his current label is straight? Then good for him that he corrected the record as soon as he could -even if I find it weird that he didn't know about it until now as I assume there were a lot of bi-fans squealing the whole weekend- because doing otherwise WOULD be really bad and leading on fans (See: T.a.T.u for the best example of that. RL Queerbaiting, no joke) And yes, I said CURRENT label because I 100% believe that sexuality is fluid. A person can identify as cis-straight at one point of their lives, then as cis gay, then as trans-gay after a long road of discovery, then as trans straight when they realize that they were attracted to the opposite gender (To their REAL gender, not their ASAB gender) all along, and it is ALL Valid.

However... IF he is Bisexual? Then we have to consider WHY he might have felt he had to take it back, and it was not JUST that it was made a big deal out of it in the Media and Social Media.

I mean... the reactions that were not 100% supportive? Were a cesspool of horrible biphobia that just reminded me of the one truth that every queer person knows: No matter how safe you think you are, no matter how much you trust the people around, no matter how much society insists that it's OK to be GAY now? Coming out is ALWAYS hard, and it will always HAVE backlash.

Coming out as Bi, Pan, Ace or Aro? Same thing but in HARD modality (And when you add coming out as Trans? That's Nightmare difficulty and I am so sorry it is so)

So yeah, I can see someone trying their toes in the queer pool, coming out as a bit of a joke, as a bit of a casual thing, trying to see how the label fits. And then being first love bombed -because as far as I know, in the con itself? It was all love, rainbows and puppies- but then coming back to reality and social media and... well, reading all THAT.

Some queer people could say "Ok, my bed, I laid on it, I can do this." But others? Well, others could go "yeah... no. This... This is not worth it. I can go back to the safe presenting side and... just hide part of me". AND BOTH ARE VALID. BOTH ARE OK. BECAUSE we all have to remember that every individual's path is, well, individual.

So, as I stand, for me there are two possibilities: Either Misha is Straight, he misspoke, he apologized and we should all respect that -which doesn't necessarily means forgiving him or accepting the apology. That's something YOU have to decide on your own. Just, respect that he APOLOGIZED- or he is Bisexual, got very spooked at coming out and ran back into the closet, which should ALSO be respected if it's the truth because rule number ONE of the Queer fight club is : WE DO NOT FORCE ANYONE OUT OF THE CLOSET.

So TL;DR? If Misha is identifying as straight? I respect that. If he at a later time changes his label? I WILL respect that and NOT take this incident as a point against him. Is it FAIR and OK if you felt hurt by the REACTIONS around it, but it is also important to remember that he is human, he also has feelings and, INCLUDING his apology? He has NEVER once gave us a reason to believe he is not at the very least a great ally who is willing to learn, to listen and to CHANGE his attitudes if needed.

And I think that's what we all should take out from this (Besides the importance of re-visiting at a later time the fact that for a very gay friendly fandom? There's also a lot of virulent biphobia going around)

OH! And if you need a safe place to come out? My DMS are open. Seriously, I can be your trial run for typing those words if you need one. My services as queer fandom auntie are always, always open for everyone.

132 notes - Posted April 26, 2022

The Moon Knight #15 preview has Steven saying EXACTLY what we all have been thinking.

And of course, he gets STRAIGHT to a barber. Because Steven Grant is NOT going to let the body he and his headmates use look like an emo kid from the early 2000.

187 notes - Posted September 2, 2022

Believe it or not, this is one of the BIGGEST honors someone can get in Mexico. Your own bootleg TORTAS food cart (Tortas or tacos. Both work)

BTW, "Tortas ahogadas" are literally "Drowned Tortas", which are basically your average torta pretty much drowned in salsa.

212 notes - Posted November 17, 2022

My #1 post of 2022

American Uterus-having people:

I'm so sorry about what is going on, but you guys aren't defeated yet. Because of the leak? You have time to organize, protest and fight this draconian thing. Just... FIGHT. Don't stop sharing links, don't stop informing people of what is going on and what is at stake.

Non-Uterus having people, while you may think this doesn't affect you?Remember, this is just the first step back to the dark ages. And you won't like where this ends. So please, please, please, fight with your uterus having friends. Help them to protect reproductive rights, and that, in the end, will protect you too.

I'm not in the USA, and I'm not a citizen. So I can't vote and help you guys overturn this. But I can help you raise your voice, and retweet and reblog and let people know what's going on. And I will. Because this is not over, and the good guys can still win.

(Also, if you need a shoulder to cry, I'm here. We're all together in this)

246 notes - Posted May 3, 2022

Get your Tumblr 2022 Year in Review →

#tumblr2022 #year in review #my 2022 tumblr year in review #your tumblr year in review #Youtube

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joontier · 4 years ago

Text

Subliminal in Scrubs | V1; report iv

pairings: dr. jeon jungkook x female reader

chapter rating: NC-17 | genre: humor, romance

warnings: swearing

word count: 2.5k

g/n: Send me your thoughts?

[taglist] @nottodayjjk @ditttiii @zeharilisharaban @btsbunny07 @turquoiseandplaidinautumn @aamxxrii @codeinebelle

Subliminal in Scrubs (the records) | navi. | m.list

Your phone blares at exactly 6:45AM, and a memetastic image of Chohee lights up your phone screen as you’re brushing your teeth. When you swipe to answer the call, you don’t even manage to get a word in when Chohee chatters you out of your sleep-deprived soul.

“Just as practiced, I’m punctual, and you’re late.”

Garbling out a reply about how it’s still five minutes prior to your agreed time, you tap your toothbrush loudly against the sink, likewise spitting out the foam from your mouth. “Fine, just hurry because I’m starving!”

Being the gold-hearted person that she is (although that fact is not known to the public), your best friend had offered you a ride to the building where you’re scheduled to take the Korean Medical Licensure Examination today.

The moment you settle yourself on the passenger seat, she greets you with a cheery “Good morning!” - one that was too cheery this early in the morning, and all the more way too cheery for a certain Kim Chohee. The two of you share a look and you lean in for a hug. “Hey, we’ll do just fine, okay? We’ve been studying our asses for this.”

You don’t let go at once, looking up at her with a kissy face. She pushes your head backwards with a disgusted expression, keeping your face at an arm’s length. With an unattractive snort, you lean back in your seat, laughing your ass off at your poor attempt to lighten the mood.

“Seriously, _______, I know you’ve been lusting after me for years even when you’re well aware of my ‘strictly beef’ diet,” Chohee states, dusting your imaginary germs off her shoulder. Turning on her Benz’s engine, she checks her reflection on the rear-view mirror before driving off.

With both your hands occupied with the sandwiches you’d ordered from Subway, you use your pinky to connect your phone to play some Mozart via bluetooth. You try not to talk much about the test, knowing it will only cause unnecessary anxiety on both your ends.

As Chohee leans towards you, you tilt her sandwich in her direction, letting her take a bite from her sub. “Hey, what’s an abscess again?”

“Isn’t that more commonly known as boils? Built up pus within or below the surface of the skin?”

Kim Chohee chokes on her BLT.

“Pus?” she repeats, swallowing her bite with great strain. “Seriously? While I’m eating a sandwich? Couldn’t you be more subtle perhaps?”

Equally just as surprised as she was, you narrow your eyes at her. “We’ve been studying medicine for the last six years! It shouldn’t be a surprise by now...and besides, we’ve heard and see a lot worse too...Would you rather have me say purulent exudate then? And waste my precious saliva on a six-syllable word rather than the common term for a liquid form of inflamm-”

“Okay!” Chohee throws an arm up in defeat. “Sheesh _______! Don’t I deserve at least some gratitude for driving you to our exams?”

“Plus we’ve already seen a cadaver too, which was supposedly one of the peaks of our med-student lives! What’s all this hype about some viscous mass on the surface of the skin?”

Your best friend peeks at you from her peripheral vision, absolutely mortified. You love it.

“Can you please remind me how we became friends in the first place?” Chohee shakes her head and increases the volume of the player as the droplets of rain start pouring down the windshield. “Anyways – I was meaning to ask the histological meaning of it.”

“Oh, right,” you nod, recalling your notes, “well, it’s a localized collection of neutrophils and necrotic debris. Basically, it’s a suppurative inflammation which is associated with pyogenic bacteria and characterized by edema fluid admixed with neutrophils and necrotic cells. Staphylococcus aureus usually produces abscesses because it’s coagulase positive and coagulase helps the production of fibrinous material that localizes the infection.”

As soon as you finish, silence takes over the car, and suddenly, a sniffle comes from Chohee’s side. With a matching frown, you best friend looks at you with shiny eyes. “Oh _______, what would I do without you?”

With still half an hour to spare, you decide on relieving your bladder first before all the toilets get occupied later a couple of minutes before the actual exam. You take your time with it, even managing to put some effort in fixing your hair in clipping your fringe back so as not to eliminate all distractions possible during the exam.

While looking through the large panel windows on your way back from the comfort rooms, you spot a familiar face – the last person you’d want to see on such an important day. Perhaps your prayers weren’t loud enough to actually reach heaven.

There Jeon Jungkook was at the end of the hall, walking like a newly-canonized saint in all his glory. Most (if not all) of the female onlookers stare at him as he passes by, with Jungkook seemingly unbothered by their unwavering attention. You aren’t one for exaggeration, but these women look like they’re willing to worship the ground he walked on.

Your nerdy, anti-Jeon Jungkook ass quickly hides beside a nearby locker, not wanting to be ‘graced’ by his presence, just as some girl coined a few moments ago as she headed to the toilets with her friends, collectively gushing over the boy.

The popular kid turns to his right and you swore you’d never prayed harder and faster than any other time in your life. Your room assignment was just the one by the corner...and if he could just make a few more steps and head straight to the next classroom a-and...nope. It’s official. The universe loved shitting on you.

Jungkook enters room 132, the very same numbers indicating your room assignment for the licensure exam. You ball up your fists in your spot by the lockers, releasing all your pent-up frustration in the simplest and least violent way possible: a long, tedious exhale.

Gathering up all your self-control, you re-enter the classroom with an inward grimace, desperate to not have Jungkook’s eyes meet yours. He’s looking for a seat, and with all the back rows already occupied, he’s stuck with picking one from the first two rows.

He’s already stood near the seat you’ve picked and you bore holes into the back of his head with your fake telepathy, silently ordering him to pick a chair on the other side of the aisle instead.

Just as you had not wished for, Jungkook plops his huge ass backpack on the chair next to yours. You tread back to your seat as discreetly as possible, avoiding his gaze at all times as he rummages through his military backpack. What the fuck is in that thing in the first place? You won't be surprised if he manages to pull out a whole microwave inside – and yet funnily enough, he can’t seem to own a single damn pencil.

As you were minding your own businesses (hopefully it stays that way for the rest of eternity), you catch the other students discussing surgical cases last minute.

“Hey, which artery is the one for transection for an epidural hematoma?”

“Was this the kid that got hit by a fastball in the head?”

“What happened?”

“Poor boy got hit in the temporal area during a baseball tournament. Remained conscious during the rest of the day but during the same evening he gets a severe headache with vomiting and confusion. When they got to Severance he got scheduled for immediate surgery for epidural hematoma.”

“That sounds awful…”

“I’m not sure which artery it was again though…”

If that were the case...then it’d be the transection of a branch of the middle meningeal artery...but then you wouldn’t want to answer that out of the blue and get mistaken for being too snoopy…

Instead, you reach for the bottle of water by the legs of your chair, likewise hearing the same answer coming out of Jungkook’s mouth in a whisper. Huh. You raise a brow. Well, there was a major chance he knew the case since he came from Yonsei too, just as you had speculated from some of your roommates who seemed like they came from the same school after mentioning Severance Hospital.

The group continue discussing their answers when this girl, who had an obnoxiously unnatural high-pitched voice, approaches Jungkook.

“Jungkook-oppa?”

Oppa? OPPA?!

You wanted to throw up. This girl looked at least two-three years older than him. At the least. Guess Jeon was really more of a fuckboy than Chohee would ever admit. “We were just discussing something and we’re really unsure of our answers, maybe a smart oppa like you would know?”

With as much discretion as you could muster, you adjust in your seat, leaning a little bit towards their conversation as you eavesdrop like the nosy person that you are.

“The surgery was a transection of the meningeal artery,” says Jeon nonchalantly like it’s the most basic thing in the world, still scrolling through his phone. Silence ensues after that. That’s it?! He’s not even going to bother explaining-

Jungkook exhales as he puts his phone down. “Epidural hemorrhages result from a rupture of one of the meningeal arteries, as these arteries supply the dura and run between the dura and the skull. Plus you said temporal area right?” he asks, facing one of the guys.

“The artery involved is usually the middle meningeal artery - a branch of the maxillary artery, as the skull fracture is usually in the temporal area. Since the bleeding is of arterial origin, symptoms are rapid in onset even though he seemed normal for a few hours. If they didn’t bring him to the hospital that same evening, he could’ve had tentorial herniation and would have eventually died.”

As much as you hate to admit it - you’re beyond impressed. Chohee always stays true to her word, but it doesn’t change the fact that he was still a jerk for clearly cutting the line at the subway.

The girls coo over him, praising him over how cool he looked by explaining his answer. Jungkook settles back on his seat like he hadn’t just perfectly given an on-point pathological explanation for a neuro case.

The group continues their review, until they’ve come to another question they’re unsure of. “Jungkook-ssi, would you know where the rupture of a berry aneurysm of the Circle of Willis would likely produce hemorrhage?”

With only ten minutes left, you’d usually be preparing yourself mentally but this group and Jungkook’s intervention has you all ears once more. Nothing wrong with some last minute review, right?

“It’s the subdural space.”

Wow. Okay, quick and close but wrong. Impressive wit though.

You open your mouth to say something but you hesitate as it dawns on you that you really aren’t part of this group and you’re not the one being asked. Jungkook not missing a beat gets a collective ‘ooh’ from the group, who’s clearly impressed at how quickly he’s answered the question.

Meanwhile, your conscience is making you contemplate on your earlier hesitation with the voice of the angel on your right shoulder telling you it isn’t right to let the wrong answer pass just like that, especially on a day like this. The devil on your left, however, tells you otherwise. You go with the former.

Amongst their murmurs of mutual praise for Jungkook (you bet this man is rejoicing inside with all the attention he’s getting, despite looking nonchalant), you take a deep breath and say the correct answer, voice coming out louder than expected.

“Excuse me?” another ‘spectator’ says, jutting her chin towards you.

“I said,” you look up at her, “it’s actually the subarachnoid space.”

“Are you sure?” she retorts.

Seriously? Just because you’re not some fuckboy jock who smolders at all boobed humans means you can’t be sure with your answer?

“Hey! I know you!” Someone exclaims from the side, causing everyone to turn their heads toward him, “You’re the foreigner valedictorian at SNU!” Similar to their earlier praises directed towards Jungkook, the same dudes marvel at your most recent accomplishment. You give a shy smile in return, quietly thanking the stranger for the sudden confidence boost.

“Jungkook-oppa is also the valedictorian at Yonsei.”

Well, that didn’t last for long...somebody has always got to rain on your parade. You won’t allow this girl though, not today.

You purse your lips, collecting your thoughts first before explaining it to them. “Subarachnoid hemorrhages, although they are much less common than hypertensive intracerebral hemorrhages, but the former are...more often than not...resultant of a rupture of a berry aneurysm.” You pause momentarily when someone drags his seat closer to yours, “Go on please.”

“Right, um...berry aneurysms are most commonly found at the Circle of Willis, usually by the junction of the communicating artery and the cerebral artery. Chances of rupture increase with age and cause marked bleeding into the subarachnoid space and produces severe headaches.” The same dude earlier blinks at you, urging you to explain further, “uh...additional symptoms may include vomiting, pain, stiffness of the neck, and papilledema. Death may follow rapidly as well.”

A few from the people gathered around your seat clap their hands, along with compliments and offers along the lines of marriage and organ swaps.

Someone mentions seeing the proctor approach the room and the group immediately disperses, everyone rushing back to their seats as quickly as possible. A middle-aged man enters, tells everyone to bring out their pencils and place their stuff by the platform, then momentarily leaves for the restroom.

Jungkook fishes through his bag, turning each pocket inside and out over and over again. There’s no way this kid actually-- “Shit, where did that pencil go?” he murmurs, going through his bag once more. Looking away, you bite your lip to stop yourself from snickering. Jeon Jungkook is definitely on a different level.

As expected, your entertaining seatmate calls you and asks for a pencil. With a deceivingly enthusiastic nod, you retrieve a pencil from your case just beside your chair. Your life after meeting Jungkook at the subway had finally led to this moment. He clears his throat and you figure it’s signaling the coming of another obnoxious comment.

“Oh, I’m sorry, this wasn’t meant for you,” you look at him with the most apologetic look you can muster. Then you look at him, down then up, just as he had done back in the library, you smile widely before winking at him, making him hand your extra pencil over to the guy sat next to him, “Thanks, babe.”

Jungkook scowls hard and you rejoice inside your head, making sure that your face doesn’t register the slightest bit of jest. His scowl however, does not last for long. “Hmm, you’re the girl from the library, right? Smart and feisty...maybe you are my type after all,” he murmurs, tongue poking his cheek. You scoff loudly, scrunching your face in disgust. “No thank you.”

“Oppa,” the girl’s shrill voice calls him one more time and you face forward to freely roll your eyes. If you aren’t mistaken, there’s even a hint of mild annoyance on Jungkook’s features. “Don’t mind her, oppa. You can have my extra pencil instead.” She tsks. “Some people just don’t know when to quit.”

At least she got something right this morning: you don’t know when to quit.

#jungkook x reader #bangtanhq #ficswithluv #btswritingcafe #bangtanarmynet #btsghostie #bts au #bts fic #jungkook au #jungkook imagine #doctors au #bts series #jeon jungkook

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tangtownie · 4 years ago

Text

Ranny Daddy - Reader Insert x Ransom Drysdale (College AU)

Author’s Note: Okay, so this was supposed to be a quick re-write of an old story of mine but it kinda got away from me. This was originally about John Murphy from The 100, so if any of you want to thirst over him with me, drop into my inbox! ❤️

Anyway, College AU because the potential is just too damn great. An enemies to lovers kinda vibe, although they’re just FWB.

Also, the song inspo was one of my best friends that read this, and then told me that she’d found the perfect track to match it. So I listened to it, and agreed, and also realized that this story was really supposed to be about Ransom all along. So thank you, my darling! ❤️

About the title, I just… I don’t know. Before I started the re-write I had to name the document something, and when I was done, I kinda loved the title.

As always, dividers by the brilliant @firefly-graphics

Warnings: So… A lot of fucking cursing, smut, smut and smut, both reader and Ransom are kinda toxic bitches that are only soft for each other, kinda dub-con as reader is drunk when they get nasty, but she initiates it, Daddy kink, possessiveness and jealousy, unprotected sex. Ransom kinda switches between Dom!Daddy mode and soft!Daddy mode.

Song Inspiration: Violent Minds by VUKOVI

Word count: 4.283

The sound of his laugh was all it took. My stomach flipped and I could barely keep from jumping his bones right then and there. He had this douchy laugh, and it was just one of the things that I hated about him. He was crude, disrespectful and completely manipulative. He would always treat me like a plaything; grabbing my ass whenever he wanted, calling me every single pet name he could think of and of course, threatening to beat up any guy that got too close. It was honestly just so offensive and belittling and so damn sexy.

The scowl that always rested on his face, his rough hands that were always toying with me. God, how could someone so stupid be so damn intoxicating? I was not even sure how it all started, just that ever since I first slept with him, my body had been craving his like he was a damn drug. We had absolutely nothing in common and my friends all hated him, just as his friends all hated me. Another loud and obnoxious laugh drew my attention back to his group and I couldn’t help but roll my eyes at those idiots. Ransom actually had quite the following and of course, they were all morons.

“Ugh, could you imagine actually dating one of those guys?” My friend Katy’s voice was the first thing in a while to pull my attention from Ransom. I was pretty jealous of that skank sitting in his lap and flipping her hair around like it was nobody’s business, not that I would ever tell him or anyone that. “Ugh, tell me about it.” I decided to turn my back on the scene, knowing that if I did not I would keep staring at them and probably see something that I did not want to see. Katy quickly sat down next to me and started going on about some rapport that was due in a few weeks. It was a typical day for us, meeting in the cafeteria for coffee and gossip in between lectures.

I leaned my back against the table and tried not to cringe at the excited squeal coming from the girl in Ransom’s lap. “God, what about having some self respect?” Katy questioned and I shot her a confused look. “That girl in Drysdale’s lap? I mean it’s not like there aren’t any chairs available. And those constant hair flips? Like “Oh my god, my hair is so fake but if I just keep flipping it around, maybe no one will know.”” I could not help the loud laugh falling from my lips as Katy finished talking.

She laughed happily with me and I pretended not to notice Ransom staring daggers at me, as him and his little posy had clearly heard everything Katy said. “Fucking sorority girls.” I was still laughing, a little louder than usual just to make sure Ransom heard. “Anyway, babe, I have to get to class. But swing by my place later, alright?” I quickly gathered my things, before pecking Katy’s cheek. “Of course! Bye babe.” She gave my ass a little slap as I walked away and I couldn’t help the smile on my lips, already feeling my mood improving.

Finally making my way across campus, I slipped into my usual spot next to Eric just before class started. I pulled out my books and laptop. “I swear to god this class is going to be the end of me!” Eric sighed dramatically. “Hon, you say that about all of them.” I couldn’t help but laugh at the offended face he shot me. “I’m serious. College is just too damn hard.” I huffed slightly as I nodded in agreement.

“You got that right.” College was hard, but I had also never felt as at home as I did here. I had my own little apartment just off of campus and it was a crapbox, but it was my crapbox. I had made some great new friends that were just as sarcastic and bitchy as me. And I was finally studying psychology. I did not really know what I wanted to use it for, but I also did not care. As cliché as it sounded, I was having the time of my life.

As per usual, Eric and I were the last to leave class, taking much too long to pack up our things and laughing as we did. Making our way back to the main building, my phone buzzed and I reached into my pocket to check it. As I saw whom the text was from and what it said, my breath hitched in my throat.

RD: “Your tits look great in that top 😜”

My eyes quickly scanned the vicinity, searching for him. Before I found him, my phone buzzed again.

RD: “Why are you wasting your time on that loser when you know how good I make you feel?”

I did not realise that I had stopped walking until Eric’s hand was on my arm. “Hon, are you okay?” His warm green eyes peered into mine curiously. “Yeah.” I quickly cleared my throat and shook my head trying to rid it off the flashes of my latest adventure with Ransom. “Yeah, I’m great. I just thought I dropped something.” I could not tell if he really believed me or not, so instead I started talking again.

“Anyway, Katy’s coming over, so I should run. But I’ll see you soon, okay?” He nodded quickly and waved at me as I started walking backwards, away from him. Once he started walking as well, I turned around to see where I was going and almost immediately crashed into someone. “Oh my god! I’m so sorry!” I exclaimed. I dropped to the ground to help pick up the things that I had so rudely pushed from their arms.

“Well, how could I complain when you just dropped to your knees in front of me?” Ransom’s smug voice made the hairs on my arm stand up and I slowly got back up. “Hmm… Well, don’t get used to it, baby.” I smirked at him before offering his notes back to him. “Now, if you’ll excuse me, I have a date with someone I actually want to see.” As I pushed past Ransom and his friends, a quiet gasp went through the group and I knew I would pay for that one soon enough.

When I made it home, I was greeted by what looked like a bomb crater and I was reminded of my stressful morning and the fact that I needed some new batteries for my alarm. I went into my bedroom to put my bag down and change into something comfier. I reached for my black cotton pencil skirt and tossed my jeans over the chair. I decided to take my top off as well, wearing only the skirt and my cropped flannel.

Katy was supposed to be here soon, so I ducked back out to living room and started cleaning up. I had managed to get the worst of it, just as there was a knock on my door. “Come in.” Katy quickly poked her head through the door opening, a smile covering her entire face. “Ugh, babe, you will not believe what happened today!” I could not help but mirror her smile as I looked at her. “Why? What happened?”

She put her bag down next to the door before riding herself of her coat and shoes. “I got the job!” She squealed and started jumping up and down. “What? Oh my god! That is amazing!” I squealed right back at her and ran towards her to jump around with her. “I know! They called me just as I was getting out of Brit Lit. Oh, I just can not believe that I will be working at a real publishing house!” Her squealing was reaching dangerous heights and I almost could not make out what she said, but that did not stop me from continuing to jump around squealing with her.

After hours of dishing, drinking and celebrating, Katy finally had to go home. Pouting, I followed her out to the front door, watching her quietly as she put her coat and shoes on. “Text me, when you’re home safe, okay?” I asked. She shot me a quick smile. “Of course, babe. I always do.” She gave me a quick hug and then made her way out the door. I wandered back into the living room again and started cleaning up, again. Suddenly, there was a knock at the door. Confused I made my way back to the door. “Babe? Did you forget something?” I asked, pulling the door open. The face that greeted me however was not Katy’s.

“Hugh?” The surprise was as evident in my voice as it probably was on my face. He was leaning against the doorframe smirking down at me. “God, I thought she would never leave.” He practically growled as he pushed his way past me. “No, please. Come on in.” The sarcasm was dripping from my voice, as I closed the door after him. When I came back into the living room, he was smirking again. “Looks like you girls had fun.” He looked sceptically at the empty bottles of wine and then back to me.

He smiled slightly as he noticed, that I was swaying a little. “Yeah, well, we did. Why are you here, Hugh?” I said, stumbling a little as I reached for my wine glass. “Oh no, I think you’ve had plenty.” Ransom quickly snatched it from my hand before I could empty it. I pouted again, trying to take it back from him. In my drunken struggle for my own damn drink, I did not even notice the breath hitching in Ransom’s throat as the buttons of my flannel had come undone and my chest pressed against his or the way he tensed slightly, as I whined in his ear, before giving up and resting my head on his shoulder.

“You smelly really good.” I mumbled as I nuzzled my face in his shoulder, slowly wrapping my arms around him. He laughed quietly before resting a hand on my lower back. “You’re so drunk.” His tone was almost gentle. A giddy smile broke out on my lips, as I looked back up at him. “You’re being nice to me.” I said quietly before continuing. “Don’t get me wrong, your douchy holier-than-thou attitude is sexy as hell, but I don’t think you have ever been nice to me before.” His eyes sparkled at me and that signature smirk crept over his lips again.

“Sexy as hell, huh? And here I was starting to think that you were getting tired of me.” Shocked, I quickly shook my head no but had to stop as I stumbled slightly again. Ransom’s arms locked around me and held me tight against his chest. “I could never get sick of you, Hugh. I mean, you’re not a very nice person and I don’t actually think we have anything in common, but fuck… I cannot get you of my mind and I am not even sure why. It can’t just be the sex, even though the sex is pretty damn great.”

I let my head fall onto his chest again and sighed deeply. “Stay with me.” His hands squeezed my hips in response. “Sure, babygirl. I’ll stay.” A shiver made it’s way down my spine at the pet name. “Fuck, I love that.” I mumbled before pressing a hard kiss to his lips. Ransom’s grip on my hips tightened and I lingered there for a while, loving the feeling of his hands on my hips and the warm feeling of his skin against mine. Slowly pulling away for air, I took his hand in mine and lead him to my bedroom.

As we reached my bedroom Ransom’s hand fell from mine. I wandered over to the chair and softly tugged my skirt off, before turning to face him. “What are you waiting for? Strip.” My words seemed to pull him from his thoughts as his eyes went from scanning me all over to looking straight in my eyes. “What?” He sounded like he was choking on the word. I walked over to him, closing the distance between us again. My hands quickly grabbed the edge of his shirt and started pushing it up his chest.

“Strip.” I raked my nails carefully over his nipples and a light moan escaped his lips, before he helped me pull his shirt all the way off. Our eyes met again and for a few seconds we just stared at each other. He gently reached out and started unbuttoning the few remaining buttons on my flannel. As he did the last one, his hand moved up to my shoulder and slowly pulled it off. I let my fingers wonder about his chest again, tracing invisible patterns.

An impatient huff left his lips before he roughly grabbed my neck and crashed his lips onto mine. Almost instantly, I kissed him back. I let my arms settle around his neck and pulled myself even closer to him. Our teeth clanged together, as he greedily tried to swallow every breath of mine. His other arm snaked around my waist as he started guiding me back to my bed. Suddenly, he shoved me onto the bed and he smiled as my boobs bounced from the contact with the bed. I let myself get comfortable, knowing that Ransom liked to watch me. I let one hand twirl around some hair while the other rested comfortably on my bare stomach. My eyes locked with his again, as I patiently waited for him to join me.

Too much time had passed and I was starting to get cold and frankly also a little annoyed with him. “Come on, Hugh, just-“ His sharp voice interrupted me. “No.” There was a playful light behind his glaring eyes. “No?” I questioned, as I sat up. “Exactly, babygirl, you know that’s not my name.” A shiver travelled down my spine again at the pet name and Ransom noticed it, smirking from ear to ear. “What are you talking about, Hugh? Of course, that’s your name.” He shook his head, still glaring at me, before leaning down to whisper in my ear.

“You know it’s not. And if you keep calling me that I might just have to punish you, babygirl.” My breath hitched in my throat as his scent took over my senses. He was so close; he smelled divine and damn it, if I hadn’t been thinking about this all day. I had to close my eyes to keep from pouncing on him. As everything I had been fantasising about all day started flooding through my mind, I remembered the last time Ransom and I had been here and a smile curled around my lips, before I opened my eyes and spoke.

“Oh, so Daddy wants to play, huh?” My tone was low and breathy. A strangled gasp escaped his lips at the pet name. “It must be my lucky day then, because I’ve just spend all damn day thinking about Daddy’s rough hands pinning me down while his big beautiful cock pounds into me.” I barely got the last word out before Ransom was all over me, pinning me to the bed with a ravenous growl. His entire body pressing against mine, as he kissed me like it might be the last thing he ever did.

My hands quickly tangled themselves in his hair and I arched my hips up to meet his. Ransom‘s teeth sank into my bottom lip and he tugged harshly on it. I couldn’t help the loud moan falling from my lips or my hands tugging harshly on his hair. His hands roughly grabbed my hips, his fingers digging into the skin as he pushed me upwards. A whimper escaped my lips when I couldn’t reach his any longer and I could feel him smirk against my throat. He slowly made his way down my body, sucking and licking all over, leaving a trail of hickeys over my neck, chest and stomach.

He stopped just as he reached my thong and I almost could not bear to look at him; so sinfully gorgeous, his hair falling into his beautiful blue eyes and his thin pretty lips already swollen and red. One of his hands moved to my thong, hooking his fingers inside of it and slowly pulling it down. I squirmed impatiently and he laughed at me. He casually flung it over his shoulder, before suddenly plunging two of his fingers deep inside of me.

I gasped loudly, surprised by his rough actions and clenched around his fingers. My eyes fell shut as he build up a steady rhythm and I relaxed again, relishing in having him so close to me. “No, no, babygirl, got to keep your eyes on me.” A strangled moan escaped my lips, as I struggled to focus on him. Our eyes locked and I watched him closely, as his gaze never fell from my face despite his fingers being buried knuckles deep inside of me and him placing shallow kisses on my lower stomach. He smirked at me again. “You’re such a good little girl, aren’t you? So eager to please Daddy.”

His deep voice rumbled against my skin and my hands forcefully grabbed the sheets to keep from pulling on his hair. “Look, how responsive you are, babygirl. You fucking love this, don’t you?” He curled his fingers inside of me and I panted loudly as he brushed against my g-spot. I could feel the pleasure building and knew that I wouldn’t be able to hold it in much longer. As Ransom mercilessly poked at my most sensitive spot, I could not help but lift my hips up, trying desperately to create some friction. He chuckled deeply before pinning my hips to the mattress. “Easy, babygirl. We’re almost there. Just relax.” His hand slowly crept across my stomach, until it reached my waist. Before I registered what had happened, Ransom had pulled his fingers from me and quickly turned me, so that I was on my stomach.

Surprised and confused, I let out a huff of air. “Hugh, what the-“ A high-pitched moan interrupted my sentence as he smacked my ass. I panted harshly, both from surprise and pleasure. At first it stung, but I couldn’t even pretend not to like it. His hands settled on my hips again, before he pulled me to him. My ass was flush against the front of his jeans as I was supporting my weight on my arms. “I told you, that’s not my name.” His deep voice made the goose bumps rise on my skin and a low moan escaped my lips.

He was so damn hot like this, all rough and angry and dominating. “You better play nice, if you don’t want me to stop.” He hummed slowly as his hand caressed the spot that he had just slapped and I grinded my ass against him. His erection was pressing tightly against me and all I could think of was having him inside of me again. “Daddy, please.” I impatiently begged for him and relished in the moan he tried to suppress. Another slap was delivered to my ass and this time I did nothing to hide how much I loved it.

A pornstar-like moan fell from my lips as I threw my head back and grinded against him again. His hands fell from me but before I could complain, I heard the sound of his pants being unzipped and seconds later they were thrown to the floor next to my bed along with his boxers. Ransom roughly slid his fingers through my folds, collecting my wetness and I arched my back at his touch. A sinful slurping sound filled the room as Ransom sucked my wetness from his fingers. “You taste so damn good, babygirl.” He hummed softly, as I moaned back, loving his filthy words.

His hands wrapped around my hips again and he pulled me harshly against him. His hard dick was rubbing all over me and I was loosing my damn mind from all of his teasing. I opened my mouth, completely ready and willing to beg for him again, just before he slid into me. A high-pitched whimper fell from my lips as he bottomed out and I relished in the feeling of being full of him.

Too quickly he pulled out, before slamming back into me. “Fuck.” Ransom grunted from behind me, building a fast and hard rhythm. His fingers were digging into my hips, trying to pull me as close as physically possible. I arched my back up and was met with his warm chest against my back. His hot, laboured breath was falling down my neck and only drove me closer to the edge. One of my hands tangled themselves in his hair and the other desperately grabbed his arm, digging my nails into his skin.

“You take me so well, babygirl. Letting my cock pound into you while you moan like a damn pornstar. You’re so fucking hot, baby.” Ransom’s voice was raspy against my neck and I almost lost my mind, when he intertwined our fingers and wrapped our arms around my waist. My legs started to shake beneath me and I let my head fall on his shoulder as he continued pounding into me. I moaned loudly as he pressed against my g-spot. “Just like that, baby. Take it. You’re mine.” Ransom practically growled in my ear, as he sped up.

He led me back down on the bed, pressing his lips to my neck and shoulders. His hand resting next to my head as he continued fucking me from behind. His other arm was still wrapped together with mine and around my waist, lifting my ass up slightly to meet him. Every time he thrusted into me, I moaned loudly, trying desperately not to fall over the edge just yet. My walls clenched around him and all I could see, hear or feel was Ransom.

“Mine.” He grunted harshly. “All mine.” My hand desperately reached for something to grab, but only found my sheets. “Yours.” I was surprised by my own voice, but it was like I had lost all control of it. “I’m yours, Ransom, any time, any day. All yours.” His head rested in the crook of my neck and he slowed down his thrusts. Slowly dragging himself out, before slowly pushing himself back in but never missing my most sensitive spot. “Ranny, Daddy, please. Please let me come.”

The desperate plea also left my lips without me controlling it. His hand flew to my clit and rubbed fast circles on it. A loud moan fell from my lips and my knuckles were turning white from grasping at the sheets. “Just let go, babygirl. I’ve got you.” I could feel the vibrations of Ransom’s voice through his chest and with a loud whine I finally let go. My eyes rolled back into my head as I clenched and unclenched repeatedly around him. My arms gave in and my pillow muffled the moans and profanities mixed in with his name.

He continued thrusting into me, riding out my high until he stilled. He was deep inside of me as I felt him release inside me. His loud groaning of my name, eliciting even more clenching on my behalf while his hips continued grinding into mine. My loud whimper mixed in with his panting as he slowly pulled out of me. He collapsed beside me on the bed and suddenly grabbed my face, slamming his lips back onto mine. His tongue eagerly met mine and I hurriedly wrapped my legs around his hips, trapping him there.

As I broke away for air, Ransom kissed his way down my neck and I could not stop the question falling from my lips. “Did you mean what you said?” He hummed softly against my neck, before biting down on one of the hickeys he had left there earlier. “Well,” he said as he broke away from my neck to look me in the eyes. “The sex is pretty damn great and I can’t seem to stop thinking about you.” He brushed a few wayward strands of my hair away gently. “Not even when you’re completely ignoring me or making fun of my friends or pretending that you aren’t jealous of the girl sitting in my lap.”

A blush quickly spread across my cheeks at his last comment. “I didn’t think you noticed.” I said while running my fingers over his chest. “Oh, baby, I always notice you. Besides, it’s not like you could hide anything from me any more. I know all your tells.” His signature smirk was plastered on his lips again. “So the skank from today?” I couldn’t help but ask. A small laugh left Ransom’s lips. “Was just a skank that means nothing to me, yeah. Now, what about that boy-toy of yours?” Ransom narrowed his eyes at me in suspicion. “My boy-toy is named Eric and is actually gay.” I said and smirked at him.

“What?” The surprise was evident in his voice. “Yeah. I actually think that you know his boyfriend Liam. Apparently, he’s in a lot of your classes.” I shrugged as I finished talking. Ransom wrapped one of his arms around my waist and pulled me closer. “Jesus, how the hell did I not know that? I’m a damn idiot.” I rested my head on his chest, before speaking. “Yeah, but I guess you’re my idiot now.”

#imagine #chris evans #reader insert #ransom drysdale #fan fiction #smut #reader x ransom #reader x ransom drysdale

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sprnklersplashes · 3 years ago

Text

songwriter!janis fic (unrequited crush, no-very-happy-ending)

also on ao3

It all started because she loved Taylor Swift when she was in middle school. Who is she kidding, she still loves Taylor Swift, but that’s where all this began. A middle school girl’s obsession with Taylor Swift. A confused, sad girl with a broken heart and smudged black eyeliner, finding refuge in lyrics about loneliness and anger and revenge. They became anthems for her, mantras to mutter when the warzone of middle school became too much for her.

“Someday, I’ll be living in a big old city, and all you’re ever gonna be is mean.”

“Cause I knew you were trouble when you walked in.”

“I can still see you, this ain’t the best view.”

It amazes her. It’s honestly as if Taylor Swift has managed to look into her life and given her a bundle of songs for whatever she needs. For when Regina has thrown her one too many snide looks, for when she’s standing at the door of North Shore High on her first day, for when she eats lunch alone, for when her mom is the best mom she could have asked for, for when she and Damian are lying on the grass in her backyard, staring up at the sky, laughing at absolutely nothing. The songs become the soundtrack to her life, the chords and those raw, honest lyrics an emotional outlet she so desperately craves. Taylor, and her songs, become a confidant, almost a close friend who always knows what to say.

With all that in mind, perhaps it was only a matter of time before she asks for a guitar for Christmas. She’s fourteen, braces and a slight lisp, and jumps up and down like a mad woman when she sees it under the tree.

She practices for three days straight, until her fingers bleed, but Should’ve Said No is the first song she learns off by heart. She yells the lyrics with maybe a little too much passion, but her parents applaud her nonetheless.

Like she said, that’s how it all started.

Because that same Christmas, she realises that screaming her feelings while playing guitar actually feels pretty cathartic. And that if it worked for Taylor Swift, it could work for her. So she writes stuff down, plays around with chords and strumming until the beat on the guitar matches the one in her head. She grabs a page and a pencil and writes and re-writes her innermost thoughts and feelings on the page until they sound the way she wants them to. She plays around with rhyme schemes and structure and everything she’s been taught about in English class, and a thrill runs through her as she does so. It’s the same breathless high she feels when she paints or draws, the rush that comes from creating something.

Her parents sit on the other side of her bedroom door, no doubt exchanging worried glances as she repeats the same verse, same chorus, with only a word changed. She watches them when they think she can’t see, peering through the crack in her door. The conclusion they seem to come to is ‘well, as coping mechanisms go, it’s pretty good, and she’s happy, so who are we to stop it?’.

It takes her four days to finish her first song. And it sucks. But she keeps it, writes down the lyrics and chords in one of the few empty notebooks she has, and there’s no going back from it now. She writes, and she writes, and she writes, near enough every day. She likes to think she gets better with each one. She learns more chords, buys a cheap ukulele the summer after freshman year, tries her hand at piano during a particularly difficult few weeks. She doesn’t plan on doing anything with them. They’re just her little pieces to hold on to. Her therapy sessions outside the carpeted office.

No-one knows about it. She has a reputation to keep up, after all. The loner-by-choice, too-cool-for-school, aloof art freak. Everyone has their roles to play in the ecosystem that is high school and, much as she hates the entire system, that is hers to play. And she plays it well, if she may say so. The fact that hardly anyone knows her past that facade suits her just fine. After all, if people think she doesn’t care, she can’t get hurt. No-one needs to know that Janis Sarkisian actually has feelings.

Even less need to know that she writes songs about said feelings.

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By the time she reaches her junior year, she’s onto her third notebook. She keeps them tucked away in her sock drawer, expertly hidden so only she can find them. Damian teases her about it, calling her “the protagonist of a Disney Channel Original Movie”. She just rolls her eyes and reminds him that “if either of us is gonna be Disney’s first openly gay character, it’ll be you”. He can’t argue with that.

It should be noted that when Janis said that no-one knows about her songwriting, Damian was the obvious exception. He found out just weeks after she started. There’s no keeping secrets from him.

Between all her notebooks, she’s written around forty songs.

Then she meets Cady Heron one day. The human embodiment of a labrador puppy, complete with wide, lost eyes. She likes her instantly, decides to take her under her wing because Lord knows the girl needs it. Cady’s smile is infectious, her laugh like a summer breeze. She has dimples and caramel-coloured hair and really likes maths.

She meets Cady on a Monday.

By that Saturday, song number 41-titled “Dimples and Curls” is more or less complete.

She plays it for Damian, hands only slightly shaking as she changes chords, the strumming short and upbeat, the melody strangely happy for such a bittersweet song.

He applauds her, but the subject of the song hangs in the air even after she’s played the last chord and the music fades. Unsaid, but not unknown. Just like her songwriting, Janis couldn’t keep a crush from Damian if she tried.

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“Hey, check it out.”

Cady drops onto the seat across from Janis, the whole table shaking as she does so. Like a small meteor just hit Earth. Janis looks up from her lunch, pretending like she had been doing her own thing and not watching the door until Cady came in. Pretending like her stomach doesn’t do little flips at the sight of her crossing the cafeteria. She pulls the flyer towards her and hums in amusement.

“The winter talent show,” she reads before chomping off a carrot stick. “Oh, is it that time of year already?”

“Seems like only yesterday we was welcoming the young’uns into this brave new world during the harvest season,” Damian sighs, putting on a delightfully over the top Southern Belle accent, no doubt influenced by their reading of Streetcar Named Desire in English class. Janis cackles, and nearly chokes on her lunch as she does.

“And now the cold winds of winter are descending upon us,” she replies, her accent equally heavy. She bats her eyes for good measure, because she can and because it makes Cady laugh. “Oh but I pray the children will survive this season, it is often rough for them.”

“I am never showing you two anything winter related ever again,” Cady says.

Janis just shrugs and runs her hand through her hair before her eyes go back to the flyer. Clearly, whatever sophomore they got to design it this year did their best; found the prettiest looking snowflakes on Google Images to put on the cartoon stage, decided to write in some swirling, slanted font rather than the start-studded block lettering they usually went for. It’s still the same as it is every year, meaning just as mockable, but she’ll give them points for tying.

“Well, anyone here going for it?” she asks. She looks from Damian to Cady and back again, a teasing smirk on her lips. “Last year and all that.”

“Not sure I can,” Damian sighs. “I mean, I’m booked up with Spelling Bee rehearsals and spring cabaret auditions happening next semester.” He drums his fingers against his throat. “Gotta give the little vocal chords some rest, you know?”

Janis’ response is to sing the lowest note she possibly can before turning to Cady and giving her a pointed look, the corner of her mouth quirked up.

“Who? Me?” Cady’s cheeks turned crimson and she shakes her head so much that the caramel curls bounced around her shoulders. “No way. Damian can take the stage, I’m fine with my calculators and textbooks.”

“You could always solve equations in front of everyone,” Janis says. “I could call out college-level questions from the audience and you solve them in under 30 seconds.”

“I think I’ll pass,” she giggles. She leans forward slightly, eyes glittering, and Janis does her best not to squirm. The effect Cady Heron’s eyes have on her should be studied by scientists. “What about you, Janis?”

“I don’t know.” She thinks back to when she helped on stage crew last year, as well as helping out (or taking over) with the set design. It had been fun, the kind of challenge she needed to keep her mind off the slowly-going-off-the-rails plan. And she was told it looked good on her college applications, because all people can think about apparently is college, college, college. “Maybe. They might need another genius stage manager.”

“And you’ll step in if they can’t find one?” She digs Damian in the ribs for that comment.

“But not performing?” Cady asks, and Janis freezes. Performing had never even crossed her mind before. She’s used to backstage, hell, she likes backstage. It’s not that she has stage fright or anything, and if she had, her stunt at Ms Norbury’s little healing session would have squished it. She had just never thought about it.

But Cady had, apparently.

“I-No, I-I don’t think so,” she stammers out. “Um, I might do backstage again, but not actually doing something, you know, talent related.” She bites her tongue and clamps her lips shut before anything else can come out.

“Okay then,” Cady replies slowly. She gets up from the table, her little empty water bottle in her hands. “I’m going to go for a refill, save my seat.”

“No problem,” Janis says, but Cady’s already jogging away.

She doesn’t know if it’s good or bad that Cady’s known her too long to think of her as cool, and so this kind of awkward babbling isn’t really surprising to her. Instead of thinking about it, she just sets her head on the table and lets Damian rub her back.

“You were nowhere near as bad as you think you were,” he assures her.

“Title of your sex tape,” comes her murmured reply. Damian chuckles and runs his fingers through her hair, like she’s his pet cat. It helps.

“So you’re definitely not going for the talent show then?” he asks.

Her first instinct is to say no, because of course she isn’t, because she never has before and she sees no point in breaking a three-year streak, but the answer catches in her throat. At the same time, something begins forming in her brain, pieces of a melody she’s already known, words filling in blank spots in her brain, and her fingers twitch involuntarily, playing the chords on an invisible guitar. Without a word, she grabs a notepad and pen from her bag and scribbles the words down before she forgets them, quickly becoming breathless just by sitting there. She forgets, for a moment, everything else, the talent show, Cady, even Damian next to her, and just revels in the task and the quick buzz she gets just from writing. Just like that she has one eye on the clock, itching to get home and put her notes into the rest of the song.

But with those notes came an idea, an idea so completely out of left field she almost laughs at it.

“Janis?” Damian asks, just slightly unnerved by her. If anyone else were at this table, even Cady (especially Cady), she would have had to excuse herself and run to the bathroom, or just hope the words stayed in her head long enough for her to get a quiet moment. “Did the Goddess of Music just possess you again?”

“Maybe,” is her response. He doesn’t know it, but she answered both the questions he asked in the past minute.

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She sits on her bed that night, her homework half-done and strewn across the desk, abandoned in favour of the guitar sitting in her lap and notebook open on her bed. She’s been working on his song for the better part of a week, inspiration and motivation seemingly striking and then fading whenever she gets a free moment. Abandoning it has crossed her mind-she’s no stranger to abandoning things that aren’t working-but for some reason she hasn’t quite been able to shake this particular song off.

Maybe it is Euterpe, the Goddess of Music, descending upon her because this song has to be finished, it has to be, Olympus willing it so.

Or maybe it’s because this song is one of the most personal things she’s ever written, a love letter she’ll never send, and the idea of it sitting unfinished drives her crazy.

She plays another chord and sings the line again, changing the ending slightly, and makes the adjustment in her notes.

She’s crazy. This is already crazy, her secret double life as a wannabe T-Swift, but now she’s gone beyond that. Thinking of actually playing it. On a stage. In front of people. She doesn’t care what people think of her, she stopped caring about that a long, long time ago, but holy shit what will people think of her after she does this? Life isn’t like the movies, she knows that much. It won’t be some pretty, softly-lit moment where the crowd sits with teary eyes, Cady runs onstage and kisses her and she’s offered a deal by some big shot producer, and they all live happily ever after the end. What could happen is people think she’s even more of a weirdo than they do now.

Or she gets tomatoes thrown at her head and she’s booed off the stage. That’s a possibility.

She calls Damian, because that’s the only way she sees out of her little thought cul-de-sac. She puts the phone on speaker and props it up against a pillow, keeping her hands free for her guitar and her pen. He picks up on the third ring, just as she’s strumming out a G chord.

“Oh, is someone prepping for her Grammy?” he asks. “You’re still taking me as your date, right?”

“Only if my dog can’t go,” she replies. She taps her nails against the wood, the rhythm too fast and frantic to just be a habit. Yes, she can tell Damian anything, and being nervous in front of him is laughable, but sometimes her body forgets that. “So, I was thinking about the talent show.”

“Oh? You’re going for stage crew again? Cool.”

“No-not exactly.” She knows he can’t see the smile creeping across her face, but she’d wager he can hear it through the phone. A small swarm of butterflies flutters in her chest, leaving her just slightly out of breath. “I… I. think I’m going to try performing in it.”

A burst of laughter comes through the phone, slightly tinged with static, and Janis wishes he were here so she could slap him. Even if it’s not malicious in intent at all, and she’s laughing right along with him. Slapping is kind of a love language for them.

“Okay, okay cool. What’re you going to do?”

“I’ll give you a hint,” she says, and then she plays the opening chords to her latest experiment. She doesn’t add in the lyrics, not yet. Still, she sits back and basks in his applause when she finishes, cackling into her hand. He might be one person, but he’s got enough enthusiasm to match a packed auditorium. “What do you think?”

“I’m into it,” he tells her. “So… that’s the one you’re doing?”

“Think so.” She tosses the pick between her fingers. Like he could feel her smile, she can feel his raised eyebrow through the phone, the elephant in the room poking her with its trunk. “Yes, I know.”

“I didn’t say anything.”

“You thought it,” she tells him, and he doesn’t deny it. She looks back over the lyrics she’s written and re-written. Despite some adjustments, it’s still in essence the same. Still about a girl with pretty hair who smells like vanilla and cinnamon, who has a boyfriend and is unknowingly breaking the heart of a girl with black eyeliner and paint stained fingers. Because her boyfriend is pretty and clean and smells like soap and can do math, and how is the poor art girl even meant to compare to that?

“Yes,” she says after a while. “It is about Cady.”

“Aw, my poor lovestruck songstress,” he sighs. He shifts then, and the air shifts with him. “You sure that’s the one you want to sing? I mean you have dozens of other non-Cady related songs. I’m sure Mr Duvall would love to hear Angry Teenage Lesbian Anthem.”

“First off, I gave that one a title, it’s called Shattered,” she reminds him. “And-” She freezes, the rest of her sentence catching in her throat. He’s right. She could perform one of her other songs, that are already finished and therefore removing the pressure to have this one finished, polished and stage-ready. And of course, it would mean she wouldn’t be standing in front of her entire grade and telling them all how badly she’s in love with her best friend. Showing her deepest secret to the people who have already driven her out of school once. It’s a far safer, potentially less traumatic option for her.

But…

“No,” she says. “I know it sounds crazy but I feel like… I feel like I need to do this.” She swallows thickly and picks softly at the guitar strings. “It’s like… like this way at least I’m telling her, you know? Even if she doesn’t know it.”

Of course, Damian gets it.

“That’s beautiful, babe,” he tells her. “So you’re actually doing this?”

“I’m actually doing this,” she replies firmly. “And tomorrow, I need you to make sure I don’t chicken out before I sign up.”

“Got it. I’ll just order you to do it as Senior Co-Chair of the Student Activities Committee.”

“That’s an abuse of power.”

“Then consider yourself abused baby.” He laughs and she laughs with him, and then she hears something on Damian’s end. “I have to go. A certain little sister of mine has a princess costume that needs attending to. See you later.”

“See you later,” she replies before he clicks off the call. She looks down at her paper, then at her guitar, and thinks about what she just committed to. “I’ve got some work to do.”

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The song goes through four rewrites in the weeks leading up to the talent show. The whole first verse is changed, the chorus scrapped and replaced with a new one, then that one is scrapped and she goes back to the old one. She sits hunched on her floor with a pencil in her mouth, wondering if what she’s written is too personal or not personal enough. If it’s too obvious that Cady, smart cookie that she is, will work it out and that’ll lead them down a new, scary path. She cuts some lyrics that give the game away, opting to replace one about love for numbers with love for learning, because that opens up the pool to half their grade. She writes about Cady’s blue eyes rather than specifically those double dimples that make her melt. Maybe she’s compromising her artistic vision, but it might be worth it if it’ll keep her crush a secret. She keeps the old lyrics tucked in the back of her notebook, just to have them.

Meanwhile, she’s also dealing with the fact that people know she has signed up for the talent show. That Miss Too Cool For School Loner Art Freak Janis is actually performing at a school event. And she doesn’t even get extra credit for it. They’re surprised, and curious, and none more so than Cady. The other girl appears at her side almost instantly after first period, skinny little arms wrapped around her bicep and blue eyes alight.

Oh, the things those eyes do to her.

“Janis!” she squeaks. “I saw-on the sign up sheet-your name! Oh my God, is this a joke? Did Damian put you up to it?”

“No, no, I signed up of my own accord,” Janis tells her. That only makes Cady bounce more, ponytail bobbing up and down.

“Oh wow, that’s amazing!” she says. She stops then, her mouth freezing in its place and her cheeks turning pink. Slowly, she comes down to Earth, like a balloon that had the air let out of it. Janis can almost hear the wheeze. “I mean um, it’s pretty cool, I guess.”

“It’s pretty grool,” Janis replies, and just like that Cady bounces back up again.

“Oh my gosh, what are you going to do?” she asks. “Or do you want it to be a surprise?”

“You think I have some secret knife-throwing talent?” she grins. She hesitates for a moment, looking down at Cady’s excited face, because even if this isn’t telling her… it’s telling her. “I’m… I’m going to sing.” She pulls on the strap of her backpack and avoids Cady’s eyes. “Something I wrote.”

“Okay,” Cady says. “Who are you and what have you done with my best friend?”

“Hey!” she laughs. “I can write stuff. I can be deep.”

“Oh, I have no doubt about it,” Cady says, bumping her arm against Janis’. “But for real, Janis, I can’t wait to see it. I know you’ll be amazing.”

Warmth spreads across her pale cheeks, a pink blush no doubt colouring her face, and she somehow manages to choke out a “thanks” as her brain turns to static. Her only thought is ‘Cady thinks I’m going to be good’, and it’s written in glitter pen across her brain.

“This is going to be great,” she goes on. “Oh, wait until I tell Aaron. He’s got a break in his schedule that week so he’s coming up to see the talent show! Isn’t that great?”

And just like that, Janis’ good mood falls. Her face stays the same, because she’s trained to do it, but everything behind it crumbles.

“Yeah, that’s great,” she replies. Cady squeezes her hand, oblivious, and drags her along the hallway, chatting away about some lion documentary she had watched last night.

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She finishes the song that night. She arrives home with a heavy chest, so full of complicated, messy feelings, and her conversation with Cady still so fresh in her mind, her ears still ringing from the emotional whiplash. Her parents barely get a ‘hello’ as she enters and bolts up to her room, her hands shaking, the thoughts swirling around her brain desperate to be let out.

And let them out she does. She writes so quickly they look more like smudges than words, her fingers flying over rapidly changing chords, her voice broken and panting as she sings. The words almost write themselves, like the song has taken on a life of its own and she’s just along for the ride. She barely remembers to pause, to breathe, so wrapped up in the storm she’s created with just her guitar and pen.

It’s only when she finishes and falls back on her bed that she notices the tears in her eyes. She blinks them away and pulls herself up, her notebook in her hand. It’s done. The perfect blend of her own honest feelings and just enough smokescreen to keep people from knowing who it’s really about.

There’s no backing out now, she thinks. Her stomach drops, like she’s on the top of a roller coaster about to go down. A laugh bubbles up in her throat and leaves her breathless, her head spinning while she’s still laying there.

If holy shit were am adjective, she'd use it to describe how she feels. Because holy shit.

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Being backstage when she’s not on crew is a strange experience. She stands with her guitar slung around her body, in the middle of a current of students moving around her, half with the clunky microphones and walkie-talkies she’s used so many times before. She asks five of them if she can do anything to help-because they’re her people and she needs to do something to occupy her time-until she finally takes the hint and leaves them to it. Stagehands are the most efficient parts of any production, as she told Damian once. They’re a well-oiled machine at this point.

“Yo!” For a second, Janis thinks she imagined the whisper, just one in a jumble of backstage noises, until Damian appears at her side. A tiny ‘shit’ escapes her mouth, her body jerking. Barely anyone bats an eye at her, except him. “Sorry, didn’t mean to spook you.”

“Don’t worry. I think at this point a small breeze could knock into me and I’d crumble.”

“The great Janis Sarkisian gets nervous?” he asks, eyebrow raised.

“Only when she’s doing something incredibly personal and scary in front of her entire grade,” she whispers back. She swallows past the lump in her throat. “Aside from that I’m a beacon of confidence and unshakable will.”

“Hey.” He taps his knuckles against hers. “Remember how scared you were at Norbury’s assembly?”

“You mean after I had my picture all over the school with the d-slur written underneath it?” she mutters. “Yeah, I was shitting myself.”

“And yet, look what you did there,” he reminds her. “You were amazing. And you’re going to be amazing here too. Once you get on that stage, all those butterflies are going to make you fly, kid.”

She smiles, her heart warm, and pressed her face into the crook of Damian’s neck.

She doesn’t know how she got so lucky to have him, but she knows better than to tempt fate.

“Janis Sarkisian?” She lifts her head to find a freshman girl with a headset around her neck looking at her. “You’re up next.”

“Okay.” It’s only now she becomes aware that the last minute of Fairytale Of New York is playing, the notes will soon fade out, and that’s her cue. She turns to Damian and lets him straighten her black cardigan and fiddle with the collar of her shirt. “Wish me luck.”

“You don’t need it.” He drops a whisper of a kiss to her nose. “But good luck.”

She holds her half-heart necklace as he goes, the twin to the one around his neck. It’s as close as she can get to having him with her. Her chest tightens as she makes her way to the stage and she tries to breathe through it, because the next thign she knows, Mr Duvall is announcing her name, and she’s being greeted by a blinding spotlight that thankfully obscures most of her peers’ faces.

“Uh, hi,” she says into the microphone placed out for her. It’s just people , she reminds herself. Somewhere in that crowd, second row, seat 14, is Damian, and she breathes easier. And next to him is Cady, the girl this song is about, and for some reason that straightens her spine and irons out the shaking in her voice. She takes the pick out of its holder and tosses her hair back. “This is a song I wrote about being in love with someone who doesn’t love you back.” She blinks and hopes no-one sees the tears in her eyes. “So sing along if you get into it, because we all know it’s a shitty ass feeling.”

She plays the first chord, and then any and all doubts she had about this flee her. As cliche as it sounds, the song takes over her, and she blows through the nerves in the first verse. The experience becomes cathartic instead, like releasing a pressure valve on her soul. Even with the little diversions she threw in, she hasn’t felt this open and god damn free since last year, paraded on her peers’ shoulders with both middle fingers up. Except now she’s not flipping anyone off, or proving a point, she’s just finally telling someone how she feels, and holy shit, it’s amazing. Whatever the aftermath of this is, she won’t care, it’s worth it just for this feeling.

As she sings the last word, and that final note rings in the auditorium, her hands are shaking, her cheeks wet with tears and her hair sticky with sweat. She touches beneath her eye and her fingers come away stained black. She hasn’t cried in front of people since middle school. She doesn’t care.

The cheers of her classmates ring in her ears, Damian’s whooping the loudest of all, and as she takes her bow, she hopes she’ll remember this moment for a long time.

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“Oh my God!” she’s barely into the auditorium when Cady launches herself at her, arms wrapped around her neck and legs circling her waist. Janis nearly topples over, digging her back leg into the ground just in time, and hugs Cady with the same ferocity. “You were amazing!” she yells into her shoulder, the sound muffled by Janis’ hair.

“Really?”

“Absolutely.” She sets Cady down, but the other girl keeps a tight grip on both her arms. Janis wonders if it’s to keep herself from flying away, given the amount of bouncing up and down she’s doing. “I can’t believe you wrote that! It was so good! You need to record it, Jan. Do you have any other songs?”

“Just a few,” she says. “And I don’t know if I’m in the business of making an album any time soon.” She swings her guitar case a little. “This might have been a one-time thing.”

“Well, even if it was, it was awesome,” she says.

“Thank you, Caddy,” Janis replies. “That means a lot.”

Her mouth runs dry as Cady smiles, all baby pink lipgloss and sparkling eyes and full cheeks. If this were a movie, she thinks, this would be the part where they kiss. No need for talking, or an explanation. Because Cady would have just known. The music would turn soft and twinkly, and the lighting would match it and it would look like they’re in a dream and they’d just kiss, and it will fix all of Janis’ problems. Maybe a single tear will run down her cheek. And then they’ll run off into their new lives as the end credits roll.

How sweet that would be.

But her life isn’t a movie. If she wants anything, she has to go for it herself.

And that includes-

“Caddy.” Her name is delicate on her lips, handled with care. Cady looks at her, giving a simple ‘mm-hm’ in response, and Janis’ heart beats out of control. “That song I just sang, it-”

“Hey, guys.”

Also if this was a movie, Cady’s sweet, lovely, nice boyfriend would not be barging in right now. He’d either be a douchebag who she doesn’t feel bad about hurting, or he’d be nonexistent.

Unfortunately, this is not a movie, and Aaron Samuels exists and is the human equivalent of a squishmallow.

“Hey Aaron.” He slings his arm around Cady’s shoulders, and she leans into his touch almost instinctively. “Janis, you were great up there. I didn’t know you wrote songs.”

“It’s a bit of a new hobby,” she says, her voice hoarse. She clears her throat, and finds a bottle of water being handed to-thrown at-her.

“Hydrate those chords,” is Damian’s greeting.

“This is what I get for being friends with a theatre kid,” she sighs before she takes a drink. She hadn’t realised how dry her throat was until now.

“Okay, so we’re all going for pancakes,” Aaron says. “I take it you two are coming?”

“How can I say no to pancakes?” Janis asks. “Uh, you guys go ahead, I have to get my stuff from the green room.”

“Okay, we’ll wait for you,” Cady says. “Aaron brought his car so he can drive us.”

“Grool.” Cady and Aaron turn around together, Aaron spinning his eyes around his finger and Cady lacing her fingers through his, talking about something she can’t hear. It’s like watching them through a sheet of glass.

Not a movie. Not unless it’s one of those really, really sad movies. Sad homophobic movies.

“You okay?” Damian asks. She snorts at the question. Nothing has changed, so of course she’s okay. But then, nothing has changed, so she’s not really okay.

“I did it,” she sighs. “It’s out there. I told her, unofficially. Whether or not she works it out…” She runs her hand through her tangled hair. “That’s something else entirely.” Damian hums in agreement, a sympathetic look on his face that soon morphs into a grin.

“Hey,” he says. “I’m proud of you.”

“Thanks Mom.” They snort, Janis caught between a laugh and a sob, and squeezes Damian’s hand. She’s not optimistic about any romance in her future, at least where Cady is concerned. She and Aaron are still rock-solid and she’s happy for them, whenever she isn’t angsting about it. It’s a weird combination to have.

And at least she’s done this now. Despite a future for her and Cady not being in the cards for now, she’s glad she did it. The secret isn’t out, not entirely. Just written on the walls in invisible ink.

“Come on,” she tells Damian. “I actually do have to get my bag, and you can use this as an opportunity to double check the ghost light is on.”

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Cady and Aaron keep their promise and wait for them, waving off their apologies as they jog across the parking lot. Cady lets Damian take the front seat with Aaron and slides into the back with Janis instead. Janis frowns, confused as to why she isn’t taking her normal seat up front, and Cady rolls her eyes.

“There was a draw on the way here, and we lost,” she explains. “And now Damian has control of the aux chord,” She gestures with her head to the passenger seat, and Janis turns just in time to see him open his Spotify and scroll through his playlists. As the opening notes to Waving Through A Window fill the car, it’s met with three loud groans. Damian only turns it up louder, and adds in his own backing vocals.

“So, that song you sang,” Cady asks, leaning back in the seat. “Was it about anyone in particular?”

Janis looks down, her hands pressed together in her lap. If this is the moment the universe decided to give her, it’s a really terrible moment. Not only is Cady’s whole boyfriend sitting an arm’s length away from her, but she left her nerve back in the auditorium. Clearly, her and fate aren’t on each other’s wavelength.

“You wouldn’t know her,” she says. “She doesn't even go here.”

“Oh,” Cady replies. Her face falls, but she’s not too put out by it. Why would she be? She nudges Janis’ shoulder, a proud smile on her face, and squeezes Janis’ hand. “Well, if she has someone like you into her and she hasn’t taken the chance yet, then she doesn’t know what she’s missing.”

Janis only thanks her, and quickly changes the subject.

Someday she might tell her for real, but for now she'll stick to the songs.

#mean girls broadway #mean girls fanfic #cadnis #janis sarkisian #cady heron #cadnis ff #cady x janis #space safari #mean girls musical

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mariamermaid · 4 years ago

Text

The Queens Gambit

Ron Weasley x fem reader

Summary: Ron had been waiting for weeks for the upcoming chess tournament in London, but what if his title is endangered by a rookie…

Words: 4k

A/N: I think it´s pretty obvious where I got the inspo from, but in case you haven´t watched the show; I can highly recommend it! (That doesn´t mean you have to watch the show before reading though) I decided to add a few more characters from the HP fandom to make the story a little more entertaining. It´s basically like a little alternate universe story (but not really??)

“Do you have a clock?”

You shook your head as you filled out the form with your name and other information. It was your first tournament and as much as you were excited on the inside, you kept a cool exterior. In reality, your heart was pounding against your chest. You had counted the days to this precious Saturday midmorning.

“If you´re opponent doesn´t have one, we´ll loan you one. Play starts in 20 minutes”, the boy in front of you nonchalantly explained. He was tall, but his slack figure was loosely positioned on the wooden chair. His teeth were a little crooked and he barely looked up to eye you any further. “What´s your rating?”

You glanced up from the paper in your hand, furrowing your brows. “My rating? I don´t have a rating.”

“Have you ever played in a tournament before?”

“No.” Your voice was steady, but a slight annoyance grew as the rules of the tournament seemed to have decided to play against you.

“Are you sure you want to do this?” Starring directly at the boy, merely a man, in front of you, you nodded. Then you handed the paper back to him. “I´m sure.”

“Then I put you in beginners”, he sighed and shrugged.

“I´m not a beginner”, you argued, but apparently, that didn´t change anything. “Doesn´t matter, if you´re an unrated player, you go in beginners and people with ratings under 1600.”

A pause fell from your lips, clearly Merlin didn´t want you playing against actual contenders.

“Is it against any rule for me to play in the Open?” The boy with dark short hair seemed taken back by your sudden and quick answers, and he stuttered when answering. Maybe it was your confidence that startled him, maybe it was the pure attendance of a female.

“Not… Not exactly.”

“Then put me in the open.”

“There are three guys with over 1800 and Weasley might show up, you have no chance.”

You didn´t answer, leaving him sitting behind the desk. You weren´t sure, if he meant to spare you with good will, or simply feared that an irascible woman could ruin the tournament.

Neville Longbottom, looked at the paper handed to him and read out the name. “Y/n Y/L/N.”

When entering the hall, that was used for all kinds of events when booked, very few decorations fell into your eye. A few flags with symbols of schools or teams and a few goblets. Pieces of sports equipment were pushed to the sides for space. The tables, all fairly small with enough space for the chessboards, were placed induvial throughout the room. Boys, mostly around your age and older were talking to each other, while other´s sat down to study their strategies. At the back was a partitioning, that’s where the big players gamed.

Another boy, he seemed to be around your age with dark hair and round glasses joined you in eyeing the scene.

“Are the matches played random?”, you asked him quietly without looking away from the tables. You hoped for no unwanted attention, which was easier said than done. Especially giving the fact, that you were one out of two girls.

“No, they match it by ratings on their first round. After that winner play winners and losers play losers.” The boy answered. He seemed calm about his presence as well as his answer. He had clearly played before in tournaments. You nodded understanding, before walking to the first table assigned to you.

The second girl other than you, was sitting to your opposite.

You starred at the clock at the side of the chess board, you had never played with a clock. It annoyed you deeply that it made you look like a beginner. You were good and you were planning to win. The girl, black shoulder length hair and almond shaped eyes, noticed your look and offered you a polite smile.

“I´m Cho Chang. Each player has 90 minutes, after you move, you press the button closest to you. Then it´s your opponent’s turn.”

You didn´t want to talk much, you were there to play, but you appreciated her explanation. Then your eyes traveled through the room, just to find Cho´s again.

“Why do they put the girls together?”

“They´re not supposed to, but if you win, they´ll move you up. Have you ever played in a tournament?”

You shook your head slightly. “No.”

But she simply shrugged. “I´m sure you´ll do fine.”

“What about Ron Weasley, is he coming today?” Oh, the king of chess, at least currently.

You had read about him, his matches from his first years at Hogwarts. Even Dumbledore himself had praised him and the daily prophet had written multiple articles about him. You had studied his games, over and over. It was him, who you wanted to play.

“Yeah, he has to defend his title.”

After 20 minutes, Neville heard light steps approaching. Only seconds after, he found you standing in front of him again. “What do I do with this?” You hold up the paper from your match. It took every bit of effort to hide your happiness, the first game had taken a lot of weight off your shoulders. After beating Cho, you were more determined than ever.

“Is your match already over?”

“Yes, I won”, you shrugged.

“That was fast, circle your name and drop in the basket”, he muttered and you did as said. Neville starred at the spot where you had previously stood; something tingled in his senses. Maybe you would actually get a chance to prove yourself to the higher players.

You snuck through the rows of players still starring at their boards until reaching the dividers. Clearly, you were fast, faster than most of them, which gave you time to study the room further. But the interesting part was happening behind the dividers. You paused for second, before deciding to enter. Around the table was a group of people watching, within the crowd, the boy from before with the round glasses. It was your turn to join his side and watch the two seated players. By the red hair, you could easily make out Ronald Weasley himself. His green eyes were pierced on the board as he chewed on his lips. You had seen several pictures of him in the newspaper, but seeing him in person? It was a new excitement rushing through your veins.

“Is he a Grandmaster?”, you asked the dark-haired boy to your left. Curiosity had always been in your nature, it even more so, got you into trouble.

“He´s working on it, it takes time. You have to play a grandmaster to become one.”

“How much time?”

“Do you mind?”, Ron turned from the game, eyeing you with caginess. His green eyes pierced right through yours and you pressed your lips to a thin line, looking to the floor with guilt. Internally, you cursed at yourself, but the smallest part showed a weird reaction; Ron Weasley had taken notice of you. Not in the way you wanted, but maybe he´d remember you. Slowly, they all focused back on the game.

Weasley´s opponent, Blaise Zabini, had his arms crossed in front of the board. “Draw?”

Ron shook his head, he wasn´t cruel. However, the victory was too close and too easy for him. “No.”

Zabini sighed, watching as Ron´s Queen moved on the board to shatter his king. The art of wizard chess remained aggressively; how queens and rooks smashed and destroyed kings and pawns. It was fascinating to you.

Weasley clapped at his own win, just like the crowd, a smirk back on his lips. “Yes!”

The group around you echoed in further applause and you couldn´t help but feel a smile. The two of them shook hands, before Zabini took off in defeat. He tried his best not to show his disappointment and anger. Ron watched his tall figure leave through the crowd, until his eyes landed back on you. You felt a blush rushing into your cheeks. Did you said he´d remember you? He probably despised you already.

Avoiding his glance again, knowing you had already attracted unwanted attention, you swallowed. Ron on the other hand just realized the pretty girl, who had watched him…

The minutes and hours took by and one after one player was defeated by you. Oh, how you loved winning. Some might decline it as a weakness, but it was the drive that kept you going.

“That´s check”, you explained after successfully beating another man. He adjusted his hair, feeling clearly uncomfortable. You on the other hand, had found your safe zone.

“I know what it is”, he then replaced his Queen, which rose from her throne, before making her way to the newly assigned field. But you had already figured out his move and even more so, your own win.

“Draw?” He asked, nervously tapping with his pencil. You had placed your head on top of your hands, watching him closely. You shook your head.

“I resign”, he admitted.

“Dinner break, then three more rounds. Final round on Sunday 11a.m.”; Neville explained, while the players had gathered outside the hall to either chitchat or look at the charts of the past games. You eyed the chart; you had won four games already. Two games were listed above you, the next one was against Harry Potter. You furrowed your brows. “You said there were three people with ratings higher than 1800!”

Neville, the boy of drossy posture and crocked teeth, looked up from the papers. He had already guessed that you would complain. “Yes, that´s right.”

“I thought I´d be playing one of them.” Neville sighed, his love for chess, organization of tournaments and the clear instructed rules, were a little thwarted by you. “You don´t have a rating, consider yourself lucky.”

“How do I get a rating?”

“You play 30 games in the USCF tournaments and then wait four months.”

“But that’s too long! I want to play Weasley”, you exclaimed. The calculations in your head were fast and no matter how you turned it, time was your enemy. “If you win your next three games and if he does the same…”

“I will.”

Annoyed, you stepped back into the hall. You were ambitious to win. It was all you had and the potential price money lurked you even more. At home, nothing but your mother waited for you. Money had always been a big concern, she wasn´t even able to afford for you to go to Hogwarts. Everything you knew about magic; she had taught you. She worked two jobs to make enough money for food and rent and while she cleaned motel rooms, one of the guests that often stayed at the motel, taught you to play wizard chess; Mr. Lupin was an amazing teacher…

At the table of your next tournament, you found the dark-haired boy with round glasses. He awaited you and smiled as you finally sat down. “I´m Harry, Harry Potter.”

Besides your prior encounter, you had seen him talking to Ron Weasley and a small wave of exhilaration rose inside you. He and Weasley seemed close friends. “Y/n, Y/L/N.”

The game started with innocent moves from pawns. In between, Harry glanced up to you, checking. But you were sure of what you were doing. Minutes passed into the game and Harry started realizing that you were better than him, he didn´t show it yet, but he was well aware. Nevertheless, he was enjoying an exquisite game of chess.

You took his queen nonchalantly, which fell off the board in debris, and nervously licking his lips, he wrote down new notes on his notepad, before making his move. Your turn again, the rook.

Harry folded his hands, starring at the game. He pondered how to get out. After more minutes passing, a few people even started to watch you. They stood in the background, far enough to not make it conspicuous, but close enough for you to notice.

You moved your king and Harry sighed. “Merlin, Y/n, you´re humiliating my rook.”

“You won´t have to suffer much longer.”

Yes, you had it all played out in your head. Your win was safe and secure.

A smile was on your lips. Two further moves, and it was done.

He stretched out his hand in defeat and you took it. “Good game, you´re very talented.”

You shrugged as if it didn´t matter, but it did. To you it did. “You really are something.”

Saturday came to an end; you had won every single game. With your head tilted high, you stepped out the building. Fresh air flowed through your lunges and you took a deep breath. Suddenly voices echoed from your right; a few steps away Harry was talking to Ron Weasley. They chuckled in ease as they continued to make conversation. Ron´s back was turned into your direction, but Harry quickly noticed you.

“Hey Y/N! You played well today; do you want to grab a butterbeer with us?”

A bitter taste spread on your mouth; you had never even tried butterbeer. But all your savings had gone into the fee of the tournament and you already expected a long lecture when coming home. You shook your head with a polite smile on your lips. “Sorry, I have to get home.”

The two boys watched as you left, silence between them.

“She´s good, better than all the other girl´s I´ve seen”, Harry added and his friend rolled his eyes.

“Come on, Harry, just because she beat you, doesn´t mean she´s some kind of unknown genius. She doesn’t even have a rating.”

Harry shrugged innocently. “Whatever you say, but be careful, maybe she´ll even beat you.”

Ron echoed in laughter as he playfully punched his friend’s shoulder. “As if!”

Sunday came, Ronald Weasley was late.

“Mom, have you seen my shoes?”

“Ronald, if you just once tidied up you might find them at the right place!”

Ron wasn´t nervous, but as so often, he was running late. With the annual tournament of wizard chess, he was ready to defend his title as current state champion.

Finally, the shoes had been next to the dishwasher (probably Fred´s and George´s play), he threw over his jacket and made his way to the fire place. “Mom, I´m leaving.”

Molly Weasley, who always knew where every single one of her children was, came hurrying down the stairs. With swift motions she brushed away dirt from Ron´s jacket and then started fidgeting around with his red hair. “Mom!”, Ron instructed his mother to stop and hurried towards the fireplace. He took the floo powder and rolled his eyes as Molly started wiping away a tear.

“There goes my champion!”

You sat at the table, the same table where Ron had previously won against Zabini, waiting and growing impatiently. People around you waited as well. You couldn´t help but feel a deeper reluctance towards the conceited champion. Finally, you flinched as the door opened.

“Sorry, took a butterbeer on the go”, Ron added and held his cup high to show his evidence. You wanted to let out a sigh and roll your eyes, but you resisted to do so.

He took another sip before stretching out his hand.

“Ron Weasley, what´s your name?” Quickly, you shook his hand. Ron knew your name, Harry had told him, but he asked nevertheless. It was a rude tactic to make you feel smaller against him. You on the other hand wanted to begin, not waste more time. “Y/N, Y/L/N.”

He nodded acknowledging and the game started.

Five minutes into the game, he yawned.

It drove you insane. Did he do it on purpose? To make you lose focus? Or was he as underwhelmingly annoying?

He played confidential, not even thinking he could lose. It didn´t even take seconds for him to plant his moves. It intimated you and no matter how hard you tried not to show, the second yawn as you moved the pawn, did bring you to a slight stumble. Neville as well as Harry stood in the audience watching.

You felt sweat forming on your neck and cleavage, and strain pushed against your temples.

“I´ll be right back.” You jumped off your seat and hurried into the bathroom, leaving behind their confused faces.

Cold water ran down your hands and you placed the refreshing cool on your cheeks and neck.

Your eyes were pinned in the mirror, starring angrily at yourself. Running away from the game felt like an embarrassment enough, you weren´t ready to lose.

“Come on, you can beat him.”

Slowly, your stare wandered towards the ceiling. The chess board appeared out of your imagination and the figures stood tall, just like you had left them behind. Then, they started moving and each time you found yourself in an inescapable path, they pulled back into their initial position. Until…

As you sat down, you were steadier as before. It surprised Ron a little and he watched as you moved your knight to take out one of his pawns. His rook then took your knight and you followed by replacing your pawn. On and on. The game continued. You were dangerously calm and as you placed the bishop down, you watched his face closely.

Ever so slightly, Ron shook his head and the glint in his eyes vanished. Harry in the crowd had the smallest hint of a smile.

“For Merlin´s sake”, Ron muttered and his hand pushed back his ginger hair.

“I think that´s it.” Your tranquil voice didn´t help him at all, but it gave you the confirmation you had hoped for.

“No, I can get out of this.”

“I don´t think so.” Then you tilted your head to side, completely deserted. “Maybe, if you had gotten here on time.”

Ron´s green eyes pierced into yours, then back on the board. Oh, time could be a cruel opponent and right now, he was losing. He took another move, not wanting to admit it yet, but you sighed sounding bored and exhausted.

“It doesn´t work, I don´t have to use the Queen.”

It didn´t matter to him. This was now more and ever about his ego. “I´ll just cover it with the bishop and-“

“Move.” His voice was low and unlike his usual character, deadly serious. Harry had never seen his friend in such a situation and even though he found it alarming, what a terrible loser Ron was, he was happy for you. You deserved it.

You did as said, covering your queen, while his rook took one of your pawns. It didn´t help, all it was, was a desperate cry. Your rook moved right next to his King, which he placed further away, but then your queen came along.

“Do you see it now? Or should we finish this on the board?”

In disbelief, he shook his head once again. But this time, his eyes found yours in an amazing gaze. “For Merlin´s sake.”

The King was destroyed by the Queen. You had won.

The people around you echoed with applause and Ron clapped as well, gentle smiling.

It was useless denying it further, you had beaten him fair and square. Harry had been right, you were good and better than Ron.

He lifted himself off his seat and shook hands with you, a reassuring smile on his lips.

For the first time on this day, you could smile as well. All the worries and the lecture that lasted till late in the evening, had been worth it.

You defeated the state champion and you won the prize money.

“Y/n?”

You had planned to go home, your mother would be enthusiastic about the money, but Ron´s voice held you back. You were outside in the hall, hand already on the railing to the staircase leading outside.

“Do you want to grab a butterbeer with me now?” He sensed your hesitation and quickly spoke up again. “Don´t worry, I´ll pay. I guess I owe it to you”, Ron shrugged and pushed his hands nervously deeper into the pockets of his brown pants. He looked different than when seated behind the chess board, taller but less comfortable as well.

“I´m not sure…”

“Come on, you can´t leave me hanging like this after taking my title.”

A small chuckle escaped your lips and Ron noticed how well it suited your face. While playing chess and debating over strategies, there wasn´t much time to give away polite smiles or studying your opponent’s traits.

You couldn´t help, but feel how the reluctance towards Ron disappeared. He sighed relieved as you nodded agreeing.

The bar was only a few streets away, a side alley and the entrance to the magical ambience was hidden. The door opened as the front side to a large dumpster and lead a few steps down into the pub. It was cozy and due to the early time on a Sunday afternoon, still fairly empty. The bartender nodded towards Ron, they seemed to know each other.

“Two butterbeers, Dean.”

Together you sat down in niche to the side, a few plants hung from the ceiling and blankets and pillows laid on the armchairs in between. Chill jazz music played in the background and a house elf washed up used glasses. You imagined how the room was filled with people in the evenings.

“So, you never played in a tournament before and yet you beat the state champion?”

Ron was curious, which was understandable and you blushed at his question.

“A friend of my mom taught me how to play chess.”

“Really? He must know a lot about it, I imagine.”

“Yeah, and he gave me many books about openings and strategies.”

“I never saw you playing in the school tournaments, when did you start?”

You avoided his glance, starring down at the butterbeer Dean just brought to your table. The yellowish, sweet smelling liquid with soft foam on top.

“I don´t play for a school team”, you admitted quietly. The topic was hard to avoid, but you didn´t have many friends anyways to talk to.

“Well, I think you should maybe start then. They often travel together to other tournaments and-“

“I´m actually not going to a public school, I´m home taught.” You voice was louder now, but still shaking enough for Ron to realize your indisposition. He maybe was a genius on the board, but construing social interactions? Not his strength. Awkwardly, he scratched the back of his neck.

“Oh.”

An uncomfortable silence settled between the two of you and you decided to take your first sip to take off your mind. He watched carefully, how your face enlightened with joy. “It´s really good!”

Ron kept his assumption, that it was your first butterbeer, to himself and smiled nodding.

“Dean knows how to make one of the bests around here”, he paused before continuing.

“I admire you.”

“Excuse me?”

“Everything I know about wizard chess, I learned in school from my teammates. Actually, everything I know, I was taught in Hogwarts. But now you come along and beat me, you´re brilliant Y/N.”

“I always liked chess, it´s a whole world on a simple board. I´m not as good in other things, trust me.” You admitted, but his compliment spread warmth around your heart.

“If you want, I could teach you a few things about magic.”

Maybe Ron Weasley wasn´t the best teacher, but he truly wanted to see you again. Something about you was so charismatic and mesmerizing, he couldn´t help himself. To his luck, excitement was shown in your face. “That sounds amazing!”

When you had finished your beers and left the pub, Ron faced you again. The two of you had talked for over an hour and he was beginning to like you more with each minute.

The thought of Ron teaching you more about magic, made you enthusiastic. Maybe it was also the fact, that seeing him again, brought a tickle in your stomach.

“Well, I see you next week, Queen.”

You chuckled at his new nickname for you, it was a pleasant flattery.

“We will see how good your gambit is when it comes to dueling.”

#ron weasley imagine #ron weasley x reader #ron weasley oneshot #ruppert grint #harry potter imagine #the queens gambit #mariamermaidimagine

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ground-riot-jack · 4 years ago

Text

doesn’t equal forever | r. tanaka | part 1

bestfriend!tanaka x reader

tanaka has been your bestfriend for years, but you’re determined to confess your feelings this movie night

warnings: angst, a lot of angst, cussing of course, a little bit of fluff.

You and the crazy ball of aggressive energy that you called your bestfriend, Tanaka, have been friends since middle school. You’d been sat next to each other in homeroom so it became natural to ask the other for a pencil or homework answers or to just study together. You’d grown close and decided to both attend Karsuno High School. Your first year you realized you had feelings for Ryu. He was funny, nice and he always made sure you were okay. As the time went on your feelings for Ryu only grew stronger.

The only person who knew about your feelings was your mutual friend Nishinoya. You’re not sure how but he figured it out before you did, teasing you quietly to make a move on the bald crackhead you liked.

You never tried too hard to show Tanaka your feelings for him, sticking to light flirting and usual bestfriend antics. You figured if he liked you, he’s forward enough to tell you. By your second year, you quickly realized Tanaka didn’t have feelings for you, but instead was obsessed with Kiyoko, team manager.

It began as a joke, really it did. Noya, Ryu and you would fangirl over Kiyoko any chance you got as an inside joke about her beauty. Then you slowly backed off as the boys took their job as Kiyokos personal hype man and bodyguards a little more seriously.

Today was like every other day. You were helping Noya and Ryu set up some drills in the gym, talking and gossiping about random things when the gym doors opened quickly, Kiyoko and Yachi jogging in quickly and immediately going to Coach Ukai and Takeda.

“Awe man, It looks like Kiyoko got us that practice match we’ve been looking for. What can’t she do?” Tanaka sighs dreamily while watching his older manager. His task was long forgotten and now laid on you and Noya to complete.

“Oí, have some respect for Kiyoko and yourself. Quit staring” Noya smacks Ryu on the back of his shaved head, who jumps and goes back to his task, while mumbling about a new headache.

“So, do you guys wanna come over and finally watch the season finale of-“

“VAMPIRE DIARIES” The boys shouted in unison.

“Of course y/n, we’ll meet at your place at 8. Ive gotta shower and big sis cooked dinner tonight.” Tanaka replies

“Okay, i’ll grab us some snacks and be ready at 8. if either of you aren’t there before 8:30 I’m starting the show without you.” You send a pointed look at the two boys who weren’t very good at time management.

Once practice ended, you, Noya and Ryu were getting ready to walk out when Tanakas name is called. You all stop and turn and see Kiyoko motioning him over.

“She’s calling me? She wants me!” Tanaka stutters out before sprinting full speed to where she’s standing across the gym.

“whatever, let’s just head home, get a head start in my shower and dinner.” Noya pouts, clearly jealous. You both begin the walk home, living fairly close to each other.

“I think tonight’s the night Noya.” You sigh dreamily.

“The night? Like tonight? Woah y/n, when did you get bold?”

“I just-I really really like him and i’m tired of hiding it. Plus, we’ve been flirting since we were kids. He has to have some kinda feelings for me. And if he doesn’t it’s fine, i’m a big girl and rejection is just apart of life” You huff. You look over and see Noya wiping fake tears from his eyes.

“My baby is all grown up” He fake wails into the air, causing you to shove him to the side. He gasps before jumping on you and tickling you making you beg for mercy. When you beg and his hands finally let up, he lets out a light sigh. “I’m serious y/n, i’m proud of you, plus i think he likes you too, you’ll be so cute together” Noya smiles brightly before hugging you and waving bye before heading down his street, leaving you to yourself.

8pm rolls around and You hear a knock on your front door, before you can move to open it, it flies open revealing Noya standing there in pajamas holding candy.

“Damn, do come in them bitch” You giggle at the energetic boy.

“Ryus not here yet?” Noya says, plopping down on your couch.

“Uh, no. I’ll text the group chat.” You vite your lip and pull out your phone.

“Uh he’s so lucky, Id die if Queen Kiyoko asked me to run an errand for her.” Noya sighs dramatically.

“Even if it was during your bestfriend weekly movie night?” You grumble before standing and moving to the kitchen to bust your mind.

“Don’t be upset pumpkin, Kiyoko is just like a little crush everyone, even you, has so Ryu is doing something for her. He will be here in no time, you can confess your feelings and then we can watch our absolute favorite show.” Noya follows you, smiling brightly at you.

“Yea you’re right, i’m just a little nervous. You wanna watch some youtube till Ryu gets here?” You smile back. You both head into the living room to pass time until your other bestfriend arrives.

At 8:45, you and Noya began getting a little worried. You’d called Ryu but he hasn’t answered. He wasn’t always on time, but he was never this late without contacting one of you. You went ahead and texted Ryu and couple more times just in case he fell asleep after his shower. You sat silently chewing your lip, worried about Ryu when Noyas phone dinged. He tapped the screen to reveal a text from the man of the hour.

Tanaka 🥵✨

on my way!

Noya relayed the message to you and decided to use the bathroom before Tanaka got there so you could go ahead and start the episode. While Noya was gon his phone, left on the coffee table, made another ding. You took a quick look so you could tell Noya when he came back, like you usually do.

Tanaka 🥵✨

also y/n kept blowing up my phone while I was with kiyoko, she almost cock blocked me 😭it was low key annoying

Your chest tightened, your stomach dropped, your heart broke and your breathing sped up. Ryu had never once expressed that you were ever bothering him, to your face atleast. Maybe he always texted Noya about you like this. Your eyes stung with tears that you pushed back. You re read the text until it something else crossed your mind. You’d almost cock blocked him? Does that mean-

You’re interrupted by your front door swinging open to reveal a exasperated Ryu. You stood and ran to the kitchen, claiming you needed more snacks. You heard Noya leaving the bathroom and saying hey to Ryu. Then you heard hushed yelling, but you couldn’t make out the words. You gathered food and took a deep breath before waking back out. You just had to casually ask Ryu about his night with Kiyoko, then you could admit your feelings if the time was right.

You walked in and saw Noya looking at his phone then Ryu and then you. You set the food down and got on your phone to text Noya, letting him know you saw the text. You heard his breath hitch and he looked at you with pity and confusion.

“Where’s my hug y/n?” Ryu smiles brightly, you hugged him but pulled back slightly when you realized he smelled like expensive perfume instead of his usual cologne. He took his jacket off and sat on the couch, and your heart broke more than you thought it could.

There were atleast 5 hickies on Ryus neck, and one peeking out the collar of his shirt, letting you know there were more on his chest. You looked at your lap but saw Noya kick Ryu in the shin.

“wha- oh you guys want an announcement, haha i get it. Yes okay, I slept with Kiyoko. No big deal” Ryu bragged, striking a pose as you held back a fountain of tears.

You tried to open your mouth to share a false congrats but the lump in your throat made it next to impossible to say anything without sobbing. You gripped your sweatpants tighter in an effort to calm yourself. The air in the room grew awkward as everyone sat in silence.

“Y/n? Are you okay? What’s wrong?” Ryu asks, at his question you can’t help but let the dam break, sobs racking your body as tears flowed from your face. You could do nothing but cry into your hands.

“I-i, i don’t understand. Are you okay?” Ryu moves closer but you run upstairs and slam your bedroom door shut. You can vaguely hear them talking downstairs but not clearly enough to even tell who’s speaking. Meanwhile, the boys were having a heated discussion.

“You absolute idiot! Why would you do this.” Noya gripped his hair and pulled.

“What the hell is going on?” Ryu pleads.

“I-You- You just had to fuck Kiyoko on movie night? You just messed everything up! Oh and y/n saw your text by the way! Some friend you are” Noya laughs dryly at the taller boy.

“My text...Oh shit! I didn’t mean it like that. I just- I didn’t. Kiyoko asked me to help her with something and I did and then she was flirting with me and then-“

“Y/n IS IN LOVE WITH YOU IDIOT!” Noya shoves Ryu over the couch, causing his to trip and land on his ass. “She loves you more than a friend and she was going to confess tonight, then you stroll in here almost an hour late with hickies all over you and smelling exactly like Kiyoko. You don’t think that hurts y/n, and then on top of that you called her annoying when she was worried about you. So you either need to go up there and say you like her too or you need to apologize and leave because I will not sit here while you play with her feelings.” Noya says now standing over the taller boy.

“I-, I didn’t know she liked me. I-I don’t like her like that. She’s my bestfriend Nishinoya. Of course I love her, but like you love a cousin or something.” Ryu spits out, eyes full of regret.

“Then go upstairs, apologize and let her down gently.” Noya picks Tanaka up by his collar and pushes him towards youre bedroom. Tanakas throat tight hens as he gets closer to your room. He can hear you sobbing from down the hall he’s walked a million times.

He slowly pushes open your door and see you laying in your bed, face pushed into a pillow and sobbing.

“I love him so much, Noya. And stupid gorgeous Kiyoko gets him. She wasn’t even there for everything. She wasn’t there for him like I was!” You scream into your pillow before looking up and seeing Tanaka standing in your doorway. You quickly straighten up and wipe your face while avoiding eye contact with your crush and bestfriend.

“Y/n, i’m so sorry. I’m so sorry, I didn’t know. I wouldn’t have-“

“It’s fine Tanaka, if you like her then you like her” You sigh.

“I didn’t mean to call you annoying. You know you’re my bestfriend and I love you, but not like that. I’m sorry y/n, I can’t be what you’re expecting me to be.” He sits at your desk chair.

“Then why are you here Tanaka? Here you can have all your stuff back-“ You stand, speeding into the anger stage of your grief. You quickly grab jewelry and stuffed animals you’d received from him over the years.

“Stop calling me Tanaka, and I want you to keep the stuff”

“I will continue to call you Tanaka because I clearly don’t know you as well as I thought I did. And you think I want your stuff in my room? You think I wanna roll over and be reminded that you will never feel the same way about me and that fucking Kiyoko was the one to get you in the end? I’m not doing that. You think i want your stupid hoodie that smells exactly like you in my closet? or even on me? So i can be reminded that I can never hold you this close again and that you will never be my Ryu. Is that what you want for me Tanaka? So take your shit and leave, please” You box as much of his things as you can and press the box into his chest.

“Y/n...”

“No Tanaka. It’s okay. Deep down I always knew you didn’t feel the same. The way you look at Kiyoko, I knew you’d never look at me that way. I’m just your friend right, so i have no choice but to support you.” You sniffle and open your bedroom door for Tanaka to walk out of.

“Y/n, can you just wait a second. I’ve barely got a word in,”

“If you’re not going to tell me you love me, then you need to go because honestly dude, it’s hurt so fucking bad just looking at you.” You bite your lip and keep your eyes trained on the floor. You dared to sneak a glance at Ryu but what you saw caused ur heart to clench. His eyes were wide and glossy, his hands were lightly shaking. When he was like this, your normal reaction was to hold him and tell him everything’s gonna be okay, but now you couldn’t. You kept your hands to yourself and you waited as he walked out of your room.

“I’m sorry y/n. I am” He sighs before leaving your house completely.

Authors note: PHEw!!! i actually cried writing this so i’m sorry, i hope you liked it. I love tanaka so much and i love kiyoko but i saw the opportunity and i decided to hurt my own feelings :)))

#haikyū!!#haikyuu!!#haikyuu imagines #haikyuu tanaka #tanaka ryuunosuke #tanaka x reader #tanaka ryuu x reader #tanaka imagine #ryuu tanaka #nishinoya yuu

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nahimjustfeelingit-writes · 5 years ago

Text

Imagine: PRT THREE.

Reader gets a surprise visit from nasty Erik.

This was requested for another part. May be the final part because I didn’t plan for this lol. Wrote this today.

Part One. Part Two.

You had a certain pep in your step that didn’t go unnoticed. Heading towards your Micro Biology classs, books in hand and a blush on your face, you try and discreetly enter the classroom only to find eyes on you. Head down, you pull your hoodie further over your head, sitting down slowly so you wouldn’t gain anymore attention.l

Erik put it on your pussy last night. You ended up spending the night and fucking another two times after the first. After each hard fuck this man’s fat dick would just plump up and harden with the tiniest look in your direction. He loved the way you looked dressed in his large t shirt with your curly hair pulled back from your face. He would kiss your cheeks and stroke it with his thumb lightly, causing you to bite your lip and blush profusely.

He knew what he was doing to you. He was your new addiction and it had only been one night of him. As you open your laptop to begin typing, the vision of him burrowing deep inside of you with your legs over his shoulders had you rubbing your hands over your face. Your shoulders begin to bounce with excitement as you laugh, still perplexed that you even opened your legs and gave your tight pussy away to a 30 year old man.

A hung, freaky, pro of an older man.

“Miss Y/N?”

You hadn’t noticed that your Professor had been calling you the entire time.

“Your research paper, please?”

Your heart sank.

Fuck. You forgot to grab your written paper from your desk within your dorm this morning when you came back around 6:00 am. Brandy, your room mate and close friend, was knocked out on her bed, snoring and all. Brandy didn’t have an 8:00 am class like you did. And to top it all off your paper was also on a flash drive you forgot to bring to class.

“I’m so so sorry, I-“ you shake your head with disappointment in yourself. So much for a 100%

“I forgot to grab it from my desk this morning. I didn’t wake up to the alarm.”

Your professor nodded his head slowly, “Okay, you know how I feel about late assignments, correct? That will be a five point deduction from your grade, Miss Y/N.”

Your professor left it at that, returning back to the discussion about virology and parasitology.

“You know, this shit ain’t really like you, Y/N.”

That deep voice made you laugh. Your assigned partner and school friend, Lakeith, has to have something to say about everything you do.

“Lakeith, mind your business for once, please.” You sass in a hushed tone.

“I would if I wasn’t enjoying the fall of a supposed future Nurse Practitioner.”

With a death glare, you turn to him, his chestnut eyes always a hypnotic thing for you. Then he decides to smile, showing off his dimples.

They weren’t deep like Erik’s but they were still something.

“I got my shit on lock, Sir, worry about scoring higher than me on the TEAS, Mr. Future RN.”

“Baby girl,” he chuckles low, “My shit always on lock. Coming up in here like you just left a dick appointment.”

Your heart flutters. Was it that obvious? I mean, the dick appointment was hours ago but damn it was still written all over your face. You decided not to respond to that portion. He didn’t need to know.

“So, somebody hitting that and you down played every chance I offered? Wow.” He laughs to himself, leaning in towards you, practically all up in your grill.

“You getting some dick, Y/N?” He smiles, his shiny teeth almost blinding. Damn him for being this fine.

“Why are you checking for me so much?” You roll your eyes into your head.

“I’ve been checking for you. Don’t act brand new because you let some other nigga wow you.”

He smelled like cinnamon. Lakeith always smelled good.

But Erik smells like sandalwood and citrus.

Even Erik’s sweat smelled like cologne. The thought of him had you shivering down the spine, you focus your attention back on your typing.

“Yeah, you got a noticeable arch in your back that wasn’t there before.”

You heard a chuckle from Lakeith’s partner in crime, Marvin. Both of them, two Kappa brothers that joked like teenagers.

“Fuck you.” You fire back, flipping him off, “sit on it and spin, nigga.”

“Yeah, okay,” He puts a base in his voice, “I’ll have your little ass sitting and spinning on something if you keep playing with me, big headed ass.”

“You started with me!” You argue back, trying your best to keep your voice low.

“Whatever,” he shoves your head, “do some damn work.”

Kissing your teeth, you throw your led pencil at his head, watching him scrunch his face with discomfort, rubbing the spot that stung.

“Bitch ass,” you end the argument there, cracking your knuckles to get back into the grind. Lakeith wasn’t about to fuck up your A average.

How about Erik and his big Daddy dick fucking you? Remember, he said you can come see Daddy anytime you wanted some dick.

You press down over a series of keys, typing out something like dmcbcdjendh.

———————————-

“And again, this tutoring shit will not help me get through Calculus I. I don’t need some student tryna teach me.”

You ball up the flyer that your calculus teacher gave you for tutoring help. Tossing it in the recycle can, you march out of her office, fuming with fists balled and cheeks puffed out. Yes, you were a straight A student but the last calculus exam you took you received a 79 on it. That had you crying into a bowl of cookies and cream ice cream. Now, she was offering you tutoring yet again. The students who tutored acted so self righteous. She didn’t need for any them laughing at her behind her back or hounding her because they had the upper hand at the moment.

“Y/N!” Your young, chipper, Calculus teacher called out to you. She reminded you of Daria but less moody and socially awkward.

“Yes?” The annoyance in your voice was clear.

“Would you like another referral? There is a guy on campus who is here as a Graduate Student receiving his Doctorate. I graduated with him and he’s basically a genius. If you want, I can set you up over the next few weeks to meet with him during library time.”

Another teacher? Maybe this would help. She lectured crappy and it had you zoning out every few seconds. You had to result in teaching yourself.

“What’s his name?”

She motions for you to re enter her office. Closing the door behind her, you take your once vacated seat, staring at her accomplishments from M.I.T.

“His name is Erik Stevens. He is back getting his Doctorate in Engineering.”

Your Calculus professor handed you his business card. It was laminated, perfect watermark and everything. She didn’t understand the pure shock on your face. How could you forget that name after you moaned it and imprinted it within the hippocampus of your brain.

“Is there something wrong?” She asked with a slight smirk on her face. You must have looked crazy.

“No!!” You take the card, placing it in your hoodie pocket, “No, I just thought of something out of nowhere. You know how that happens sometimes.”

“Yeah,” she laughs it off awkwardly, “Give him a shot, Y/N. He’s really good at what he does.”

“Mhm,” you felt a sudden wetness in your panties. He sure as hell is good at what he does. Even your own teacher recommending him to you had you horny as a bitch.

This fucking man.

“I’ll give him a call today.” You look up at your teacher one last time before grabbing your bag, exiting her office.

//////////////

Erik: Call me and put that pussy on the phone, lol. I wanna hear her talk to me cuz I know she wet as a motherfucker.

You bite on your thumbnail while sitting in one of the study rooms within the Library. You were surrounded by Lakeith and a few other Micro Biology class mates to study for the next exam. You didn’t inform Erik about him tutoring you yet because you wanted to drive over to his apartment and tell him in person.

Y/N: It is wet, but I’m in study group right now I can’t show you. 😩

You were NEVER this damn bold with a guy.

“Y/N, you’re supposed to be the one writing on the white board what the fuck you doing?” Lakeith startles you from your sexting.

“Shit, my bad,” you stand up, grabbing your phone and expo marker. The group began telling you information to write out, your mind in tune with education. After applying the top to your marker, you hear a soft knock on the door as if knuckles were tapping it. Craning your neck, you make out the outline of a guy around 6’3, new balance on his feet and a navy blue Champions sweatshirt with matching pants. He had a black North Face beanie on his head, with an artistic pair of gold rimmed glasses on.

At first glance you didn’t recognize him but the moment you stepped closer to the door to open it, a deep pleasure ran through your veins like lava. With a sly smirk on his face, he leans into the door further, staring down at you while curling a single finger for you to come here. He bit down on his bottom lip the moment you were staring at him face to face, the only barrier between you both was the door. He jiggles the door knob, motioning with a tilt of his head for you to open it before he did. Sighing nervously, you open the door, his body smelling like testosterone and patchouli. The thought of the pheromones he produced after sex had you buckling at the knees.

“You in here studying?” He asks with a whisper.

You knew eyes were on you at that door.

“Yes, Biology.” You respond, but not with a whisper. You didn’t need any of them wondering why you were being secretive.

“What kind?” He asks with a tilt of his head, his finger discreetly stroking your hand. You pause to breathe, shifting on your feet.

“Micro.” You meet his gaze, blinking away as soon as you saw the heavy lust there. Why did he have to bring his fine ass over here? Clearly he was in the library the entire time. He did say he’d been watching you around campus and he wanted your thick ass for a long while. So maybe he was watching you study with friends?

“Were you keeping an eye on me, Erik?” You smirk.

“That’s all I can keep on you for now, ma. Ain’t like I can keep this dick on you while you in front of your friends.”

Erik looks over your shoulder. His eyes fell on Lakeiths. He knew from that moment that homeboy wanted you. It was all over that niggas face.

“Let me help I know a lot about Micro Biology.”

Erik wasn’t asking really because he pushes past you, fully within the room. You shutter slightly before closing the door, taking in calming breaths.

“Can we help you?” Lakeith speaks for the group like he was the leader.

“Nah, looks like y’all need it though,” Erik takes it upon himself to spread your notes out on the desk, craning his eyes behind his glasses to read what you had. He takes his other hand, stroking his gotee before turning to the white board.

“Y’all sure y’all know how to study for this?” He asks with a joking tone. Lakeith and Marvin share a look before turning back to Erik.

“Yeah, we got this, bruh. You looking at the top students in the class.”

Erik nods his head slowly, “How about you, Y/N? He speaking for you like he know you smart.”

Lakeith laughs, “we work close together all the time. I know she got it going on.”

Erik lifts a single brow, taking your notes to stack neatly, “Y/N, this nigga always speak for you?”

You bit the inside of your cheek, staring from Erik to Lakeith. There was clearly a weighing of dicks in this room but Erik would come out on top for sure, gold metal and all.

“Not always, but he has a habit to sometimes,” you hide your smile, focusing back to the white board.

“Y/N,” Erik calls for you. He had the right to do that you felt. He opened your pussy up and ate your pussy like a bowl of ice cream, licking his fingers and all. He could call you and you would answer.

“Yes?” You turn to him, giving him your undivided attention.

“You want me to help you study? I can do that right now I got time before my evening class starts,” he places his hands in his pants pockets, waiting for your answer. You both knew you would say yes, and you didn’t hesitate either. This could lead to what you needed.

“Okay, sure,” you try and pack your things but Erik was already on it, zipping up your back pack and throwing it over his shoulder. He walks to the door, opening it for you to leave first.

“You not gonna say goodbye to your little friends?” He says with a smirk before licking his lips.

“Bye y’all, see you this Wednesday,” you step out of the study room, Erik’s arm around your shoulder. Before you could leave the library, Erik pulls you in between an aisle full of history books, slamming you against the shelf. He pauses, trying to keep the solitude of the library at bay.

“Who is that little nigga?” He asks you with a calm that had you squirming.

“His name is Lakeith.” You respond with a whisper.

His eyes look from your toes and back up to your face. Erik takes off your hood, your messy curly bun frizzy from wearing it all day.

“Damn, you ain’t even fix this after I was all in yo’ shit last night.” He laughs with a deep raspy tone.

“I didn’t have time,” you whine, pouting like a baby.

“Why the fuck are you so cute? He had a slight tendrill of anger building up, you could tell from how his brows furrowed, “why you so damn cute, lil mama? Out here having these weak dick niggas craving you.“

You swallow spit, shrugging your shoulders nervously, “I don’t know.”

“What I tell you about that I don’t know shit?”

You forgot he didn’t like for you to tell him that.

“Sorry.”

“All you gonna do is say the shit again. But it’s cool, I know you remember how this strong dick nigga had you crying.” He was even closer now, breath on your cheek.

“I mean, to be honest, aint like you can do much about being the cutest bitch on campus. Cutest bitch with the tightest pussy.”

You could feel him grabbing your breasts with no restraint. Anybody could spot the both of you. You watch as he unzips your hoodie, the thin t shirt you wore underneath giving him a clear view of your big ass nipples.

“Y/N....shit,” he takes both, pinching your nipples and playfully slapping them.

“Big ass titties.” He kisses your neck on both sides with a little tongue.

“Erik,” you moan out with a shiver.

“I’m the only one allowed to put it on you, you hear me?” He whispers. Erik pulls you from the shelf by the collar of your shirt, palming your ass hard before slapping it.

“Daddy is gon’ be all in your shit girl, you wait and see,” he bit your ear, taking you by your hips to make you grind on him from the front. It was the wildest shit ever. You never did anything like this in public. For the most part it was kissing and ass grabbing but not this.

Erik pulls one of your legs up, his hands on the shelf while he dry humped your crotch.

“Damn, babygirl, that leg all the way up there, huh?” He pulls you with three quick pumps over his clothed and now fully hard dick. You could feel it against your leg and it was long as hell. He had you so open last time...Damn, he was gonna do that shit again.

“Let me stop before I have a big ass nut,” he chuckles, lowering your leg but never moving his hand away from your ass, “girl, when we get back to my place, I swear to God your ass is mine.”

————————————

“You’re so hard, I can feel all of that big dick, Daddy.”

You moan while grinding on his crotch, wet pussy wrapped around his bare dick. The minute you stepped out of his car and entered his apartment, he started undressing you without a word. Now here you were, fully naked and coating his dick with that good sticky shit. Erik has his fingers on your clit, rubbing in a slow circle while he instructed you to keep wetting his dick down to his balls.

Erik places his fingers within his mouth before grabbing your waist, angling you and making you bounce on his dick in rhythm with his grinding. It was an erotic sight to see, legs spread wide, pussy wet, hard dick all slick.

“Fuck, Y/N, got me ready to buss a fucking nut, damn girl!” He slaps your ass, “You ain’t all sweet, your little ass a fucking devil. What kinda sweet girl put a pussy like this on a nigga? Ain’t never heard of that.”

Erik grabs his dick, smacking your pussy with it, “Get on your fucking knees. Go on, ma, get down there.”

You were on your knees now, grabbing his dick with one hand, licking yourself off of him.

Damn this girl.

“Y/N, don’t be shy girl, c’mon, lil mama,” Erik motions for you to take him more, “open up...yesss, just like that. Mhm, good girllll.”

You gag on him. He was just so big. You had to stop and look at his dick like it was from another world. He laughs at your tear stained face and swollen lips. The spit on your chin he had a lot of fun with it seems, smearing it in with his fingers.

“I ain’t say you were done,” he jerks his dick, smacking you in the chin, “let’s go, ma, dick ain’t gonna suck itself.”

You grab him up, sucking him again. This time, he was fatter than before. What the hell was this! Your pussy was leaking, no lie. You could feel it on your thighs. Fuck if you weren’t sucking his dick. Erik rolled his eyes, head falling back when your tongue snaked up his dick.

“And you was tryna play scared?! Shit,” he shakes his head, “scared of what Y/N? You ain’t afraid of all this big dick.”

Erik grabs your hair, fucking into your mouth. You grab his thighs, eyes on him while he fucks your mouth.

“Damn, I’m balls deep in your mouth.” He grunts, pushing one final time before releasing your mouth, a thick stream of spit caught on your lips.

“Sloppy mouth bitch.” He slaps you with his dick. You were so astonished. He just hit you with his dick.

“Fuck. Me,” he looked from his dick to your wet face, “Come ride Daddy.”

You climb up, watching him apply a condom again. You pout with sadness, looking down at him roll the condom over all that spit on his dick. The vision was covered and it had you rolling your eyes.

“Fuck you doing all that for?” He caught that shit.

“If you fuck me raw I won’t act like this,” you speak in a timid tone. Erik licks his lips leaning back to admire you.

“You want some raw dick?”

You nod yes.

“Ard...take the condom off then.”

Quickly, you snatch it off, throwing it to the ground.

“Like I said, a slut for this dick,” he pulls you over him, “Get up here and fuck me since you want it raw. Fuck this dick like you tryna mold my shit in that little kitty.”

You squat over him on your tip toes, rubbing his dick over your clit a bit before lowering over him. He slaps your ass extremely hard, the connection complete and your lips in a full pout now.

“Yeah, thats my fucking girl, such a good little girl. Making that face I like, that dumb struck face with all this dick in you balls deep, fuck.”

You start bouncing, hands on his shoulders and head thrown back.

“Ohmygodddd ohmygoddddd.”

He was really hitting different. It was so much pressure you were sure to squirt. The dick was knocking on your walls for a squirt in return. Damn, his big dick was all the way in there. Shit didn’t make no sense.

“You hear all that?” He speaks to you but you were dickmatized, “you are splashing on me, girl! What the fuck!” You sure were. You could hear it loud and clear.

“Yes I am, oh my Godddd,” you gasp.

“Yes I am, Daddy. I’m so wet, Daddy.”

“You taking this big dick girl, it’s okay for me to keep fucking you like this? Fuck, Y/N this pretty pussy so wet.”

His hands were everywhere. He was low on the couch, hips pumping up into you with his eyes low and on your face. You were in an eye lock with him and it made the moment even better.

“Never thought you would be bouncing on this dick did you?” You both shake your heads at the same time, “I already know I just wanted you to agree with me, sexy bitch.”

You watch as he presses his hand into your back, lifting your leg with the other hand, pounding into you, beating your shit in.

“Damn, ma, I got you looking possessed,” he says all of this while fucking you deeper, flesh smacking louder, “mhmmm, this cool? Huh? Daddy hitting that spot, right?”

You were in no shape to speak. This man had a tight grip on your leg while he beat the brakes off your pussy.

“Shit better than the first time? You getting all of me girl ain’t no holding back. You want this raw dick you taking it like a big girl.” He slows down, making you feel every inch. It was literal murder.

“You a big girl,” he looks down at the way his dick was fucking you, “big girl when you getting this pussy fucked.”

“Fuck, yes.” You moan out. You’d be a big girl and take anything. This man had you wide open.

Damn, hold up, shit,” Erik slips out, arching you over the couch now. He used your shoulders, pushing you down so your face was pressed into the cushions. Your ass was pointed so far up, pussy spread wide for him to slip inside with ease. Your pussy was already wet anyway so he would be in that shit with no problem real soon.

“Throw this phat ass back on me.”

You move with as much energy as you could force. He had you tired. You move your hips seductively while throwing it back, your eyes on him to watch his every reaction. You watched him take in a deep breath, several to be exact, trying his best to control the urge to cum.

“This little pussy finna make me buss.”

You were about to buss from the way his head stroked your sweet spot.

“Ahh, I’m about to cum, Daddy,” you grab the back of the couch, legs shaking and cum spilling out like warm sugar.

“Pussy so sweet, Y/N,” he grabs your hips, taking control now while drilling you. The change of pace had your mouth wide open and eyes glossy from the pressure.

“Damn, you really in there!” You yell, back muscles flexing from the intense feeling. This man was stirring your guts around like a bowl of noodles.

“You putting it on me Daddy I don’t wanna stop!!!” You yell with literal tears in your eyes. You were being completely honest. You didn’t want him to ever stop. You wanted him to keep going and going.

“Putting it on this tight pussy?” He asks with a smirk, “This my tight pussy, you hear me? My tight pussy, little mama.”

“Yes, it’s for you!” You couldn’t believe it, you were cumming again, “DADDY MY PUSSY!!!”

The way you reacted to him had his balls tight and dick rippling, ready to cum.

“Best believe little girl I’m taking. this. SHIT.” He started fucking then stoping, fucking then stopping, like a pattern of torture. Your body would jerk forward in surprise, and then he would stop for about three seconds leaving your clit a throbbing mess. Each time he started back up you would gasp, the surprise of it leaving you motionless and breathless.

“Mhm,” he stops, slapping your ass, “Mhm.”

You reach back, hoping for him to grab your wrists. When he does, you prepare for the pounding of your life. Arching more, you feel him increase momentum, eyes growing lower and lower each time. He had you hooked. That’s it. You were fucking Erik Stevens from now on.

“How you feel about me bussing this pussy open?” He says in a breathless tone.

“I feel so good, Daddy.”

/////////////////////

You watch as he sucks on your nipples, your shirt lifted over your head. You just got out of the shower, your legs weak. He had you against his front door, wet hair all over your face and chest arched forward into his mouth. You cry and do it loudly like a whiny brat, his tongue flicking your nipples in the best way.

“Daddy...stop...” you push at him weakly.

He starts sucking like a damn baby and you extend your head back, hitting the door with a loud thud.

“Chill out,” you say between breathless moans. He was a damn animal for you.

“Daddy, what the fuck,” you rub your thighs together, “ooo...stop,”

He doesn’t say a word as he tongues and sucks on your titties. Nipple play never aroused you this much. Erik was a man of firsts for you. How was it that you could feel your pussy throb and drip from this? His eyes meet yours while he flicks his tongue over your right nipple. Damn, he was a fine motherfucker with a mouth you wanted to sit on. Imagine having a tongue like that slipping from front to back and side to side in your slit.

“Daddy eat my pussy,” you ask with no regard.

“Suck on that pussy?” He lifts with spit on his chin, “If I eat it you ain’t going no where for the night cuz im only gonna fuck you again.”

“So?” You sass, “plus, I’m gonna be here more often anyway. My calculus teacher recommended me to you for tutoring.”

He looks at you with dark eyes of lust while twirling your nipples, “Damn, forreal?”

“Yeah, I figured you could reward me with more dick if I do well.”

“Yeah, I can do that. But that means you gotta do well though.”

You kiss your teeth, “Okay, I’ll do my best.”

“Put that bag down and undress. Squat over the couch with that pussy sitting over the edge, okay?” He said it so casually, his naked chest looking edible.

“Okay,” you put your bag down, undressing again. You know you looked a mess but he didn’t care about that shit. Walking to the couch, you watch him as he takes a hit from his blunt. You get into position, arching with your legs wide and pussy sitting for his mouth. Erik admires you while blowing smoke from his lips, walking over to you and getting on his knees.

“You gon pop that ass and pussy while I eat your juicy shit from the back?”

“I’ll do whatever you want me to.”

“Good.”

You could feel him turning around, his arms up and on your ass, spreading you wide. You feel his lips kissing your pussy, eyes closing with bliss. He tongues your folds apart, his tongue dancing with your nectar. He slobs, then slurps, slobs, then slurps, a continuous pattern. Each time you would flinch, your clit jumping each time he did it. Fuck if you would get your pussy ate from someone else. He knew your pussy like the back of his hand. His tongue started flicking upward, only the tip of it teasing your clit and inner folds. It moved all over, Erik working that thing. You claw at the couch, turning your head no matter how painful to try and watch how he did that. This man was full of surprises.

“Daddy, how you doing that?” You ask with a sweet tone. He responds with a sloppy kiss to your clit. You fall against him, giving in to his dance.

“Fuck, Daddy.” You start popping your ass, the feeling of his gold slugs making you shiver. Shit, he was making you cum. Already this man was making you squirt. You were overwhelmed.

“SHIT,” you shake, pussy squirting in his mouth. He applauds you with a slap to the ass before going back to work. Now your clit was overworked and sensitive. The more he slobs the more you cum. And just like that, you were creaming.

“Oh, fuck yeahhhhh.” You talk into the couch cushion beneath you.

“My dick hard again. I told you.” He stands, dick ready to rip through his sweats.

You could hear your phone ringing, sure that it was Brandy but all that didn’t matter, Erik had you up in the air. You could see yourself in his mirrors that he had on his living room wall over his TV. You were so small compared to him. He’s taller, extremely taller, and so toned and cut, not one part of his body was covered with fat. He looked into that mirror too, eyes on you at times but also on the way he held you up like you were as light as an infant, bringing you down over his dick. Each time you both connected he would look back at you to catch your reaction. It didn’t matter how this man fucked you, it was great each time.

Erik walks over to the mirror while he still bounced you, turning sideways now, those full lips of his pouty and his eyes low and hazy.

“Creaming on me something serious,” he rewards you for that buy fucking up into you quickly. Your toes curl, hands around the back of his neck squeezing.

“Y/N, damn,” he scrunches his face, hands palming your ass to keep you up and open for him, “Baby girl, look at me.”

You look at him, moans stuck in your throat.

“Why you letting me take this pussy like this? You not afraid to fall for a nigga?”

You were already falling. It was only day two. He knew what he was doing. He played the game well.

“You not afraid to fall for me?” You catch your breath, “you’re not afraid to get pussy whipped by a girl like me? A little mama?”

“Nah, ma,” Erik shakes his head with a smirk, “not at all.”

You blush, your pussy gushing further over him. He may be your fuck buddy now but the thought of him being more excited you. He made you forget about your ex. Erik was the man of your dreams now a reality.

“Shit, I’m about to have a big fuck nut!!!” You watch as he fucks you at full throttle, body bouncing, wet pussy sliding, moans and groans loud for the entire apartment complex to hear.

“Fuck, girl!!!!” Erik slips out, resting you on the floor while cumming on your face and titties. You catch as much as you could and scrape up the rest to put on your tongue. Erik watched you with primal eyes, his sweat dripping on you. The sweat that smelled like citrus and patchouli. While you tasted and swallowed his cum you wished he would cum in you. You know why but damn his dick was good that’s where you wanted it next! You could only beg for it honestly.

“Ard, ma, time to get up we got some studying to do.” He picks you up, throwing you over his shoulder. You watch him pick up your back pack Erik walking you back to his bedroom. How were you going to study and get through the semester with Erik’s dick in you at any given opportunity? This was going to be tough. Erik drops you on the bed, your body bouncing. As you sit up and fold your legs, Erik opens you bag while his blunt rested between his lips, pulling all of your things out that you needed.

“I’m serious about this studying, shorty. Education is important. You want me to help you out you gotta pay attention to everything I tell your little ass, Aight?”

“Okay, whatever you say, Erik.” You pull your hair up into a top knot bun.

“Gotta work hard for what you want,” he looks at you, a smirk growing on his face, “you hear me talking to you?”

“Yes, Daddy.”

“Daddy Erik when I’m in that puss, professor Erik when we hitting these books,” he takes a puff of his weed, “you smoke?”

You take the blunt without answering, smoking a little.

“Aight, what you get on your calculus exam?”

You felt embarrassed to say. You knew he would frown at you if you told him what it was.

“I’m an A average student, Erik.” You try and ease away from answering his question. His eyes were on you like he was ready to fuck you yet again.

“Ma,” he shakes his head, “just tell me. What you get?”

“A fucking 79.”

“You can do better but that’s better than shit I’ve seen. Stop beating yourself up, Y/N.”

His words had you dripping on his bed. You bounce, titties jumping and a seductive smile on your face. Your eyes focus on him, his still hard dick pointed to your mouth. He bites the corner of his lip, eyes peeking at the way your big ass titties looked bouncing. With a shake of his head and closed eyes, Erik grabs you by the chin, making you look up at him. He opens his eyes real slow, trapping you.

“Just suck my dick again, ma. You did that shit right the first time. I like the way you look chocking on my stick.”

Yep, this was going to be difficult.

@dameshaemonique @sheisexcellent1 @blktinkerbell

#killmonger imagine #killmonger x reader #killmonger fanfiction #black panther killmonger #erik killmonger #nahimjustfeelingit-writes

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sinner-as-saint · 6 years ago

Text

Capital Letters.

Bucky Barnes AU.

Requested.

Run-through: You were fortunate enough to work for who was considered to be one of the best, most admired and affluent authors of your time; Mr. James Buchanan Barnes. And soon, things weren’t so professional between you and the man…

Themes: SMUT, ANGST, language.

A/n: Hi babies, just a word of caution, the Anon who requested this told me that I could end it as I like, and by now I believe everyone knows that I am a sadistic fuck so… don’t say I didn’t warn you ;)

Also, unfortunately, this will not be made into a series. Enjoy! Okay, okay, change of plans, this fic will have a part 2. Soon, I don’t know when, but soon.

The ding of the elevator caused you to abruptly place the book you were currently reading down, and caused you to jump to your feet.

The floor where you worked was not that busy, just a couple of people who worked close to your boss. At the very brief thought of the devil, he appeared; stepping out of the elevator.

Your e/c eyes watched him as he walked across the dark marble floor, focusing on the screen of his phone and ignoring each and every greeting which was spoken at him.

There was no denying that James Buchanan Barnes, probably the most well-off and most talented authors of the past years, was in fact super arrogant and rude. Unlike the characters he wrote.

You watched as he passed by your desk – ignoring you just like he did with the rest, his cologne following him and lingered in the air for quite a while. He was . . . enticing. Despite the standoff-ish manner, and arrogance, you had to admit that the man could make anyone weak in their knees just by sparing them a glance with his ocean eyes.

The slam of his office’s door as he shut it broke you out of your reverie and you hurried in collecting your phone, a notepad and a pen and you rushed into his office right behind him.

You usually didn’t interact with him. The only thing which linked the two of you was that he signed your paycheck every month.

You were his assistant’s helper. And since the assistant was away with her husband for her honeymoon, you were to be Mr. Barnes’ assistant for the next couple of weeks.

Normally, this wouldn’t be a hard task. But you had been hearing around lately that Mr. Barnes was having a little bit of trouble in writing his current novel. Apparently, the word got out that he was having a writer’s block moment since he very publicly broke up with his long-term girlfriend, Natasha Romanoff.

Given the circumstances, the publishing house was putting a lot of pressure on the man, and he has been having a terrible temper lately.

You took a deep breath once you stood outside the dark, wooden doors of his office. You quickly straightened your knee-length, long sleeved navy blue dress and secured the notepad in your hand as you knocked on the door, twice.

His name was written in black, bold, capital letters on a thin, shiny, silver plate situated on the door.

You waited for two seconds and then came the reply.

“Come in,” he said, the annoyance could clearly be heard in his voice.

Already? It’s barely 10 a.m. and he’s already in a bad mood?

You whispered a quick prayer in your heart as you pushed open the door, stepped inside and closed the door quickly behind you.

“Good morning, Mr. Barnes,” you spoke as you took in his majestic appearance. Sat in his chair, carelessly scrolling through his phone, as he slowly looked up at you.

You approached his desk, yet as soon as his baby blue eyes met yours, you could’ve sworn that your heart skipped a beat.

You had met with countless blue eyes before, but none quite like his. None with this many flares of grey in them.

“Who are you?” he asked in pure confusion and nonchalance.

His eyes narrowed slightly at you as he placed his phone down and leaned onto the table, folding his arms in front of him.

The gesture caused his dark suit jacket to tighten up around his broad shoulders and you found yourself momentarily daydreaming about your boss.

“I, uh, I’m replacing Peggy for the coming few weeks since she’s away. And I should inform you that the publishing people called and scheduled a meeting for this afternoon. Is there anything you want me to do right now?” you asked in your ‘professional’ tone.

It was the voice you used whenever you had to conceal your nervousness.

“What’s your name?” he asked. He looked calm, and looked like he was in deep thought.

“Y/N Y/L/N,” you replied just with what he asked.

He nodded, his eyes never leaving your face. It seemed as though he was studying your face, as if he was remembering each one of your features.

He stared at you for so long that you were beginning to think that your hair must be messy or that there must be something funny on your face.

But there wasn’t.

And unknown to you, in that moment, a devious, cruel plan was made.

---

The days at work went by rather smoothly. Given the reputation he had, James Barnes was actually behaving in a much more tame way.

You were handling his life at work perfectly; and he even told you that he was impressed with you. That comment of his caused all the other people to wonder how come you could bring out the good side of him.

You were getting much more confident around your boss. Confident meant that you weren’t on the verge of sweating each time he looked into your eyes.

He was . . . different. A little demanding and arrogant yes, but charming nonetheless.

You found yourself in his office for the third time one morning.

“Mr. Stark wants me to inform you that he’s extremely pleased with the advancement made in the novel,” you said with a faint smile.

Your boss leaned back in his chair and toyed with the pencil in his hands, flicking it around his fingers as a smile formed on his face when he heard that the head of the publishing house was finally content.

“Well, I’m glad. Tell me, Y/N, have you read any of my work?” he asked, casually.

You studied his appearance quickly; dark grey suit, his long, dark hair in a man bun with a few strands falling around his face. His pink lips lifted in a smirk, and a confident yet slight narcissistic demeanor around him.

You nodded at his question.

“I have,” you answered, with absolutely no idea where he was going with this.

The smirk never left his face as he got back to staring at you with his piercing blue eyes. You never admitted this out loud, but with the sun rays illuminating the room, making the color his eyes pop out even more – you thought that his blue eyes matched those of the White Walkers from Game of Thrones.

“Which ones?” he seemed genuinely interested, and you wondered why.

Embarrassment rushed through you.

“All of them,” you sheepishly replied and lowered your eyes to the ground as you felt like you would collapse under his stare.

You saw him moving. He stood up, walked around the desk and approached you; slowly. Once he stood in front of you, he inched closer to you; his breath hitting your face as he curled his finger under your chin and lifted your face up until your eyes met his again.

Your heartbeat quickened when you noticed the lack of space in between your bodies. One of his hands was stuffed in his pocket, while the other gripped your chin gently.

Your thoughts were a mess.

“Have dinner with me. Tonight. And I might even exclusively share the plans I have for the next one with you. Sound good?” he basically left barely any room for negotiation.

The fan girl in you jumped with joy at his suggestion. You didn’t lie when you said that you had read all of his books. You owned all of them, and you loved each one of them.

There was something about the way he wrote that made him seem like an angel, even if he was the complete opposite in real life.

Some of his books had very detailed, intimate chapters. Ones which made you blush, also ones that you couldn’t stop re-reading.

You often wondered if any of the sex scenes were based off his real life experiences. Because if they were, then that would make Mr. Barnes damn good in bed.

He said your name to drag you back to reality.

You couldn’t find any excuse not to, so you agreed to have dinner with him that night.

So you agreed, with a smile on.

Or maybe you didn’t want to find any excuses.

---

Sat behind your steering wheel, you blushed on your way home that evening.

Mr. Barnes told you that he would be sending his driver over at yours at around 8 p.m. to fetch you. So, that left you with 2 and a half hours to get ready for your rendezvous with your boss. For dinner. At his house.

As it became too much for you to handle, you texted a close friend about it. She replied almost immediately with how excited she is to receive the details later.

Could it be that your boss had a thing for you? Would that explain why he was nice to you these past few days while he was impolite towards the staff?

Could this be the start of something beautiful?

For quite a long time now, you had been shamelessly developing a crush on your boss. I mean, what’s not to like, you thought.

The very brief thought of him reciprocating what you felt for him, had you feeling lightheaded.

You made good use of the time you had to get ready. Took a bath, applied a light makeup, and got dressed in a casual, flowy white dress. You had your hair down, since it was always tied into a neat bun at work.

Pairing the dress with black heels, you stepped outside your apartment as soon as you heard honking downstairs.

Your ride was here to take you to your boss.

---

The driver dropped you off right at the front door of Mr. Barnes’ mansion. And you were practically shaking in nervousness as you pushed open the front door and stepped inside.

The house was well lit, and well furnished, but silent and empty.

You sensed the very faint aroma of food in the air and kept walking forward in the hallway, which eventually led you to a grand, spacious living room.

You looked around for a few seconds, taking in the interior which mainly consisted of reds, and white and black – occasionally.

“Mr. Barnes?” you called out and heard a rather clear voice reply back; which meant that he was close by.

“In here, Y/N!” it said, and you followed it across the lavish living room.

The fine, elegant all white/black kitchen was not hard to find actually.

You walked in and found him pouring red wine in one of the glasses he had in front of him. He stood beside the kitchen island, with an unfamiliar, genuine smile on his face.

“You look beautiful,” he spoke, his voice softer than it usually is. His hair wasn’t tied in a bun anymore, it was down, wavy and framing his gorgeous face flawlessly.

He wasn’t wearing a suit anymore, just black pants and a dark blue shirt. He looked good. Like, really good.

The shirt seemed a little too tight around his muscular arms as he extended his arm to offer you the half-full glass.

You accepted it and whispered a ‘thank you’ at your boss.

“You have a lovely home, Mr. Barnes,” you spoke and took a sip of the wine. He observed you intently as he poured himself a glass as well.

He placed the bottle back on the table and leaned against the counter, just a feet or two away from you.

“It’s… lifeless, but thank you. And please, call me Bucky when we’re not at work, Y/N,” he spoke and took a seat on the stool by the end of his sentence.

He had said it so effortlessly, yet his words caused your heart to skip a beat.

Bucky…

You repeated the name a couple of times in your head as you took a seat as well, opposite of where he sat.

“Okay, Bucky,” you tested the name and it rolled off your tongue perfectly.

He liked it, judging by his smile, you could tell he preferred that to ‘Mr. Barnes’.

Dinner was great. Simple food, simple conversation. You noticed that 2 glasses of wine later, your grumpy boss was actually a funny man.

---

“I hope you know that I still haven’t forgotten about the next novel. You promised you’d talk to me about it, I’m waiting, Mr. Bar- I mean, Bucky,” you spoke as the two of you put away the plates and the cutlery into the sink.

You offered to place the dishes in the dishwasher but he promised you that his housekeepers would handle it, so you let it go.

He finished his third glass of wine and gave you a fake, shocked look.

“Wow, Y/N, is that really the whole reason why you accepted my offer? All for that book, not for me? I’m hurt,” as he spoke, he gradually made his way to you.

And in no time, he had you trapped between him and the counter.

Your bodies were so close that you lost your ability to think straight. His eyes were darker and glossier than earlier this evening.

The scent of wine was evident in his breath and his lips looked even more pink than before. His face was inches away from you, and you blamed it on the wine in your system but leaning forward and closing the gap between the two of you was incredibly tempting.

His fallen lock of dark hair tickled your skin and you let out an involuntary giggle.

Bucky’s body tensed at the sound. You don’t know why.

“Come on, everything’s in my study upstairs,” he grabbed your hand and pulled you along with him up the stairs.

Something changed once you entered his study. Maybe it was he demeanor, or his intentions or perhaps even the temperature. You couldn’t place a finger on what it was, but something definitely shifted in the air as you walked into the room.

It was a cozy room, with couches and even a fireplace in one corner. Book shelves were filled with works of other authors, his awards and trophies stood proudly on a shelf on the other side of the room. A large desk was planted in the middle, and a bunch of papers scattered all over it.

Your thoughts were foggy from there on, one moment you were listening to him as he explained his supposed endings to his next novel. And the next moment, you stood in front of him – stripping.

You weren’t drunk completely, but you definitely weren’t thinking straight.

You found yourself standing in front of your boss, while he sat on one of the dark red couches, enjoying the show.

“Why did you stop, Y/N? Go on, take it all off,” he urged you to take off your white dress, followed by your lacy set of underwear as well.

His voice barely hid the lust he had coursing through him. His breathing got more and more shallow with each article of clothing that you discarded.

You felt naked, and very, very nervous. But seeing his reaction to your bare body caused an unfamiliar sense of confidence to erupt in you.

Bucky shamelessly eyed you up and down, taking in every inch of your skin. Studying your body, observing each one of your features intently.

His eyes lingered around your breasts and your hips. All your curves drove him crazier with each passing second. The perkiness of your breasts matched the growing hard on in his pants.

With the discussion over the upcoming novel long forgotten, Bucky reached out and pulled you into him.

You straddled his thighs as you landed on his lap. Your breasts merely inches away from his lips, he smirked.

Slowly, he took of your sensitive buds in his mouth. He sucked on the soft skin as his teeth applied just the slightest bit of pressure upon the bud.

His warm tongue swirling around your nipple had you throwing your head back in pleasure. Your eyes closed as you relished his touch.

His hands gripped your waist as he pressed you to his clothed body. You instinctively bucked into him and he pinched your ass as you did.

Never in a million years had you thought that one day, you’d be grinding on your boss in his study. But here you were, guess life was unpredictable like that.

Bucky released your nipple and kissed his way up until he reached your collar bones. He nibbled on your skin and the sweet pain had you whimpering in no time. One of his hands moved away from your waist and slipped in between your thighs instead.

His knuckles rubbed against your wet folds as he smeared the wetness around, making you moan quietly against his cheek. His beard scratched your skin but you enjoyed every second of it.

“You are so beautiful, Y/N,” he whispered along your skin as he pushed two fingers into your entrance.

He let out a series of swear words when he took note of how tight you were.

“Fuck!” you whined when he curled his fingers inside of you, hitting your most sensitive spots.

His touch left you wanting more, and more. His fingers slipped in and out of you at a steady pace and you were a messy, moaning mess.

He stroked your walls with his two fingers and he soon had you coming undone around his fingers, which were now coated with your arousal.

You muttered his name over and over again as you rode the waves of euphoria which washed over you. Bucky slowly slipped his two fingers out of you and placed them against his lips, sinfully licking them clean.

He closed his eyes and enjoyed your taste.

The sight had you blushing like crazy. You tried controlling your intake of air but just as you regained control over your senses, Bucky flipped the two of you on the couch and knocked the air out of you again.

Your bare back came in contact with the velvety couch and you mentally moaned at how soft and comfy it was.

“You’ve been driving me crazy since the day I first saw you, you know that? Ever since then, I can’t get you out of my mind and I’ve been dying to touch you,” Bucky whispered along your skin as he left marks all over your neck.

You could only whimper in pleasure under his touch.

His hair fell around his head and you constantly had to remove it from his face just so you could get a good look at him.

He was beautiful, in the dimmed lights of his study, he looked angelic even.

As he was straddling you, you could clearly feel his growing bulge as it rested against your dripping core. The only thing keeping him from fucking you was his clothes. And for a second, you wondered why he wasn’t getting undressed.

But before you could dive deeper into that thought, he placed his mouth on yours. Your lips moved in perfect harmony; tongue rubbing against each other’s.

You sighed in delight through the kiss.

He deepened the kiss by stroking the top of your mouth with his skilled tongue, and you were on the edge just by that simple action.

His scent filled your senses and suddenly he was all you could think of. His hands roamed around your body, touching you wherever he could, memorizing the shape of your figure until he finally cupped your core and rubbed the sensitive skin around your swollen clit – making you shudder under him.

“Bucky, I- oh fuck!” you whined as he slipped his fingers into your entrance yet again. His head dipped into your neck and he licked and bit around your skin until he found your sweet spot.

He messed around with you for a little bit, then lifted off of your body for a quick second; removing his pants and briefs and unbuttoning his shirt in no time.

It seemed weird, having your boss standing naked in front of you, but given that the man looked like his body had been crafted by Gods – you didn’t mind it a bit.

Bucky climbed back into the couch and hovered over you, stroking his thick length while he did so. Your mouth shamelessly watered at the sight of his Adonis belt.

Damn, he’s fit!

He placed his mouth on top of yours again, to swallow the winces which came out of you as he pushed his length into your tight entrance. His long hair fell and tickled your skin. His breathing got shallow again as he pushed himself fully into you.

He lifted his head and watched you frowning as his cock stretched you to your maximum. He watched you attentively as your lips parted and you moaned his name once he filled you up nicely.

“B-bucky, I- holy fuck-,” you whined as he slowly slipped out of you completely, before slamming back into you with a slightly bigger force.

He groaned at the feel of your walls wrapped around him, squeezing and clenching around him.

“I’m right here, Y/N, tell me if it hurts too much. Okay?” he whispered against your mouth, before he tugged on your lips and he started moving his hips – rocking into you slowly, then gradually increasing his speed.

You were too caught up in pleasure to even make sense of what he said to you. Your back arched off the velvety surface of the couch and your chest pressed to his.

Bucky’s lips kissed your face; all over. He seemed to be compensating for the sweet pain he was causing you.

You hooked your legs around his lean waist as his thrusts got rougher than the last. You were a moaning mess under him.

“So tight, fuck! You’re all mine, babe you get that? All mine,” he spoke in your ear, groaning as you bucked your hips to meet each one of his thrusts as well.

He slammed into you, his hands travelling all over your body, until one of them wrapped around your throat. He fucked you raw and relentlessly, watching how your face morphed into frowns of pleasure.

Bucky applied just the slightest bit of pressure at his grip and your eyes flew open in surprise at the revelation of this more dominant side of him.

“That’s right, look at me. Look me in the eyes while I fuck you like no one ever has. Look at me babe, you look so beautiful, fuck!” Bucky mumbled under his breath as your moans got more and more high pitched.

His voice was gravelly and laced with lust and passion as he rammed into you like he owned you.

Your body shook against him, your legs felt numbs as he relentlessly slammed into you. Bucky slid his hand in between your connected bodies and furiously rubbed your bundle of nerves, earning a loud moan out of you.

As he did so, the pressure at your core became too much to handle, and you craved for release. Guess he noticed, as he slipped his tongue back into your mouth one last time and took your bottom lip between his teeth again.

“Come on, baby, cum for me. Let me see how pretty you look when you cum around me, with my cock buried so deep in you… fuck,” he finished as he came, cursing some more as his seeds spilled in you, coating your pulsating walls.

In your haze, your foggy brain managed to notice that Bucky was just as vocal as the characters of his novels.

Were his love-making scenes inspired by his experiences in real life?

You came right after him, back lifting off the couch and moaning his name out loud. Bucky kissed you wherever he could and whispered how good you were to him in your ear as you tried gaining control over your senses again.

Your vision was blurred as you slowly opened your eyes again.

Somehow, his cock erected inside of you again.

He removed his cock from your warm entrance. His strong hands found your waist again as he flipped you over; you lying in your stomach and your ass up in the air.

You were still breathless but he wasn’t quite done with you yet.

“Just can’t seem to get enough of you,” he mumbled, breathlessly.

The palm of his hands hovered over the skin of your ass cheeks as he traced all your stretch marks and whispered how beautiful you looked under him.

His finger ran up and down your spine, leaving goose bumps in its way. Bucky chuckled at how responsive you were, and bent down to place kisses along your shoulder blades and the back of your neck.

He breathed in your fresh, floral perfume and mumbled under his breath something you didn’t catch.

He lifted your hips upwards and bent your knees under you so your glistening core was on full exposure in front of his face.

You blushed as he placed yet another kiss on your ass before running his fingers up and down your wet folds. You shivered as you felt him aligning his red, leaking tip to your entrance again.

He rubbed the tip of his member along your folds; coating his length with your cum as he rubbed your clit and wet folds, separating them as he glided his cock in between them at a pace so painfully slow that you felt like you were slowly collapsing into insanity.

You moaned out loud, unable to hold back as you surrendered to him completely. Your face against the velvety surface of the couch, your hands unmoving under your chest and your ass in the air – you were happily helpless.

A toy for him to use as he pleased.

He groaned as he slipped into you, the new position granting the two of you immense pleasure simultaneously.

Once his cock sank completely into you, you felt his fuzzy base against your ass and whimpered as one of his hand slipped under and rubbed your clit.

You let out a series of cuss words as Bucky bucked his hips against you, slipping in and out of you with ease.

Soon, he was slamming into you all over again. The pace he chose was much faster than earlier, it was almost animalistic.

Your body moved against him like a rag doll; you tried meeting each one of his thrusts but you gave up midway because you were too focused on the pleasure his body brought you to be able to focus on something else.

Bucky slammed in and out of you continuously, moaning and grunting in the process. Tears fell out of your eyes as the pleasure became too much to handle; and your felt the pressure forming again.

“You take me so well, Y/N, fuck!” Bucky murmured as he increased his pace; ramming into you mercilessly.

Your thoughts were a mess yet again as you felt your vision becoming blurrier with each passing second. Your squirmed in pleasure as both his hands gripped your hips, pushing you into him harshly each time he filled you up.

The sweet, familiar pain formed again, and you came without any warning – gushing out all over him as he kept slamming into you, chasing his own orgasm as your walls clenched around him, squeezing him all over again like the first time that night.

You couldn’t hold yourself up anymore, so you collapsed onto the couch, him following right after. His sweaty torso pressed against your back, he rubbed along your sides as he whispered comforting words in your ear.

He did that a lot, you noticed.

His member throbbed as he slowly removed it from inside you. His cum dripping out of you as he did you. It seemed as though he took a moment to admire his cum dripping down your folds and onto the couch.

Soon, he got off you and disappeared for a little while. Your eyes remained shut as you rode out the waves of euphoria. You were too worn out to even move.

Your body shuddered as you felt the loss of contact. You missed him against you already.

You felt a sweet fatigue washing over you. It was satisfying almost, and the next thing you knew is that you were being scooped up in the arms of the man who had just fucked you into oblivion.

He walked for what felt like forever until he finally reached his destination.

He laid you down on cold, yet comforting satin sheets and you peeled your eyes open to see him. Bucky bent down and placed a kiss on your forehead.

“You did so good, Y/N, thank you. Thank you for your help, now get some sleep, you need it,” he whispered against your forehead and left.

You wanted to question him further, but you figured that it was rather late, and your body was shutting down. And sleep seemed really tempting, so you gave in, and allowed the soothing darkness to engulf you.

However, one last thought rushed through your mind

What help was he talking about?

---

The next morning, you woke up rather late. The antique clock situated on the wall facing you indicated that it was 9:15 a.m.

Fuck! You thought, I should be at work.

You removed the covers and realization hit you gradually. You weren’t home, no. You slept over at your boss’ place.

Your nervous eyes looked around the room. It was well furnished, yet it seemed as though no one really used it on a daily basis. It had that stuffy smell.

You looked down at your bare body and panicked. Yet, relief quickly washed over you once you noticed your white dress and underwear carefully folded and placed at the corner of the king-sized bed you were currently in. Your purse was there too.

You were in desperate need of a shower. You wrapped the cover around you as you sheepishly walked towards what should be the bathroom, yet the click of the door handle stopped your advances.

You were frozen to the ground as the door opened.

You were half hoping it was your boss, but much to your disappointment, it wasn’t. Instead, it was a middle-aged woman with blonde hair.

She walked in with ease and smiled at you.

Her actions seemed much… practiced. As though she had done this a million times before.

“Hello, Miss Y/N, I’m Lily, the housekeeper. Mr. Barnes told us you would be here. He asked me to let you know that you may have today off. You won’t be required at his office today. The car is waiting for whenever you wish to go back home. Breakfast is downstairs,” she informed you with an equally practiced smile and a tone which made it seem like she was forcing herself to sound cheerful.

You nodded, in shame and disappointment.

“Is Buck- Mr. Barnes home as well?” you asked, your voice hoarse and you sounded dehydrated. Which was of course, no surprise given the activities of the previous night.

You were sure that this lady was able to see all the marks Bucky left on your neck and you noticed how her eyes briefly flashed a strange emotion; pity?

“No, Mr. Barnes is at work. I’ll be downstairs, Miss, call me if you need any assistance,” she seemed like she walked away to avoid any follow up questions from you.

Bucky was at work, and told you to take the day off?

Well, that was weird.

You shrugged at the thought and moved into the bathroom. You took the well-deserved and much needed shower and allowed the warm water to take away all the tension from your muscles.

You found a spare toothbrush and continued with your morning routine. You washed the remnants of your makeup and wiped your face once you were done.

You walked back into the room, wrapped in a towel and stood in the middle of the room for quite a while.

Was your boss avoiding you?

Well, clearly he was. But why?

Was it something you said, or did?

You replayed the previous night’s occurrences over and over again, yet you couldn’t find anything which would explain his sudden hostile behavior.

You rushed to check your phone, hoping that there would be a message that would explain why he wasn’t checking up on you. But there wasn’t.

Involuntary tears formed in your eyes.

Did he not want you anymore? Or were you overthinking it all?

You refused to let the tears fall as you slipped back into your underwear and finally your dress. You looked at your appearance in the nearby mirror.

The marks of his kisses and his bites on your neck in contrast with your pure, white dress. The contrast was rude.

You picked up your purse and slipped your phone back inside it as you quickly made your way down the stairs.

You weren’t angry, you were embarrassed. Really, really ashamed at the situation in which you found yourself.

You rushed outside and found his driver standing next to the car. He smiled apologetically at you and simply nodded when you told him that you wanted to get home as fast as he could get you.

You checked your phone obsessively as you sat in the backseat of his car. A lump formed in your throat as you thought about him.

It was a Friday, so thankfully you wouldn’t see him for the next 2 days. And hopefully you’d get over the sadness which flooded your senses.

Or, perhaps he actually was really busy and would get back to you over the weekend. You hoped to hear from him.

---

You were a complete mess during the weekend. Every time you phone signaled that you had a new notification, you would all excited thinking it was your boss. But each time, you could feel a piece of yourself sinking in disappointment as you realized that it wasn’t him.

You were falling for him, hard and fast. And he wasn’t there to catch you. Your life had become a broken fairytale.

You sent him a few messages, not getting into details, but just asking him what the problem was. None of which were replied to.

You had internalized that he was ignoring you, but the one thing which bothered you was that you couldn’t figure out why he was doing so.

You were miserable during the two days you had spent away from the office. And Monday morning was no different.

You got ready, barely paying attention to what you looked like. All you knew was that you needed to confront Bucky about what was happening.

You drove silently, not even bothering to play your usual playlist. You had skipped breakfast and even skipped your morning coffee.

You were a mess.

Sitting at your desk and waiting for him to arrive must have been the most difficult 15 minutes of your life.

You thought about everything. Even went to lengths you shouldn’t have.

Would he sack you out?

Would he apologize for ignoring you?

While fucking you, he did mention that you were his, did he mean it?

Was it wrong to fall for his charms in the first place?

Yes, yes it was.

Sometime later, the elevator dinged, he was here.

You stood up, straightening your burgundy dress and hoped that he would at least spare you a glance, but he didn’t.

It felt like a déjà vu. Him ignoring everyone, focused on his phone as he walked into his office.

He passed by you just like every day and didn’t even look up from his phone.

The lump in your throat came back. And it stayed for longer than the last time.

You gathered your phone, your notepad and a pen and made your way into his office. You knocked just like you are used to, and his reply came back just like every day.

“Come in,”

You pushed open the door and walked in; heartbroken.

He had his glasses on and he was typing something, eyes never leaving the screen of his laptop. The silver screen held his attention more than you did. And you hated how insignificant you felt.

“Mr. Barnes, um, is everything okay?” you asked, and he still didn’t face you. He was busy writing whatever he was.

His reply came back monotonous.

“Yes, Y/N. Why?” he asked back, clearly not wanting to know why you asked him that in the first place.

You didn’t know what to say.

Why did you ignore me for 3 days after fucking me?

Why aren’t you acknowledging the night we spent?

It would all make you seem so desperate.

“Nothing, I was just w-,”

“Y/N, if it’s nothing important, would you mind stepping outside and closing the door behind you. I’m rather busy at the moment. Thank you,” he spoke, monotonously still.

You nodded; taking in his appearance one last time before turning away from him. Dark blue suit, a silver tie, his hair up in its usual bun with a few strands still framing his face. His beard was a little more untidy than usual, but he looked good nonetheless. His black framed glassed sat on the bridge of his nose and he looked just a majestic as ever in his dark leather seat.

The room was silent as you walked back towards the door. The only sound was made by your heels clicking on the marble floor.

You stepped outside and mentally cursed yourself for even thinking for a moment that there was a chance of him and you being a thing together.

You were nothing compared to him.

Realization hit you as you finally came to the conclusion that you had been so easy. All he wanted was to get you in bed, and he succeeded. And now, you were just another woman who had been used by him. You weren’t special, and he confirmed that.

You took a deep breath as you turned around to face the closed door again, his name written upon it in bold letters added to your injury.

James Buchanan Barnes.

As if you needed another reminder of how small and powerless you were compared to him…

---

The following week went by as painfully as the first day. He ignored you and treated you like you were just an assistant. He refused to even spare you a proper look, he was engrossed in writing and people soon found out that he had come out of his writer’s block moment and that he was hell-bent on finishing the book now.

By the second week after your intimate moments with your boss, Peggy was back. And she took over her job so you very rarely saw Bucky.

Bucky… even just saying his name brought back all the memories.

Your feelings were bottling up inside of you; the shame, the anger, the embarrassment, the feeling of having been nothing but a toy to him – it all remained unspoken inside of you.

Until one day, a Thursday in the second week post your sexual interaction with your boss, you decided to confront him.

You found yourself in his office one afternoon. And he was still writing, typing furiously on the keyboard.

“Mr. Barnes, I need to talk to you about something,” you spoke, trying your best to hide your nervousness.

He didn’t look up from the screen.

��“Sure, Y/N, go ahead,” was all he replied and you knew for a fact that he wasn’t paying you any attention.

And that was it. You reached your limit and your patience ran out.

You stepped closer to his desk as you raised your voice.

“Oh for fuck’s sake! Stop ignoring me, and don’t pretend like you aren’t avoiding me ever since we fucked! I need to know what the fuck is going on. What did I do?” the desperate tone in your voice was hard to ignore.

And your slightly raised voice caused him to finally look at you. He didn’t have any emotion on his face as he looked at you. No apology, no remorse, nothing.

You noticed that the skin under his eyes were darker than usual.

Without saying a word, he removed his glasses and placed them back on the table. He stood up and walked around the table, approaching you like how an animal approaches its prey.

Slowly, confidently – knowing damn well that he was the superior one in this situation.

“Watch your tone with me, Miss Y/N. Now, tell me, what do you want to know?” he asked again as if he hadn’t just heard a word you said.

“Are you- who do you think you are? What makes you think it’s okay to avoid me like the fucking plague after we’ve-,”

Before you could finish telling him off, he pushed you back against the wall right next to the door and grabbed both your wrists and pinned them above your head.

His legs on either side of you as he trapped you between him and the wall.

You winced when your back hit the wall, but he didn’t care.

“I told you to fucking watch that tone when you’re talking to me, Miss Y/N,” he whispered sinisterly. A completely different person to who he had been the day you went over to his house.

“Frankly, I have no interest in you, Miss Y/N. I just needed the right . . . muse to help me write the ending of my novel. I needed an elaborated, steamy, intimate scene, but with Natasha gone, I couldn’t write without experiencing it first. To be honest, you were an immense help in helping me get out of that headspace,”

He spoke, looking you dead in the eyes. His blue eyes, the ones you often daydreamed about, now had this look in them which reminded you of how heartless the man in front of you was.

He continued.

“I should be thanking you, in fact. Thank you for being so easy, so naïve and so fucking good to me. Really, Y/N, I fantasized about your body for days after I fucked you. Even got hard while I was writing the scene, just thinking about how you moved while I was buried deep inside you,” he whispered, darkly, against the shell of your ear.

Silent tears streamed down your face as each one of his words hit you like a punch in your face.

“You’re sick. Let go of me,” you tried to free your hands from his tight grip, but you failed.

He moved his face dangerously close to yours, and if you hadn’t moved your face to the side, you were afraid that he might have brushed his lips with yours.

“No, you said you wanted to know why, well here you go. You’re beautiful, Y/N, so fucking beautiful but God are you fucking stupid, I mean, you didn’t even put up a fight, didn’t even to chase you, all I did was ask you and you gave in to me. So fucking easy,” his words hurt.

Tears threatened to fall as he spoke; humiliating you.

“I still vividly remember the sounds you made, and how I got you moaning in no time. So responsive, so beautiful and so fucking naïve. Tell me, do you let every man take you with such ease?” he mocked, and chuckled as you tried to move away from him but again, failed to do so.

“But don’t worry, I’ll get you a free copy of the book so you can finally see what you helped me create. Now go on, and stop behaving like a child. You’re gonna stop acting like I owe you an apology, and you’re definitely not going to mention any of this to anyone. Understand?”

His voice reflected the power he had. Of course you wouldn’t tell anyone, you couldn’t. It would only ruin your reputation.

Silent tears streamed down your face as he released you, finally. He walked away from you and got back to his seat.

“Go on now, I would really like a cup of tea. Black, no sugar. Thank you, Miss Y/N,” he spoke as if he didn’t do anything to hurt you.

He acted as though he didn’t just break your heart. Of course, he didn’t know that you had started to develop feelings for him.

He was right, you were naïve. So fucking naïve.

How could you think that he would even consider to reciprocate the feelings you had for him?

You got him his tea, and avoided looking at the smug look on his face and you went on with your day; heartbroken.

---

The week ended and over the next weekend, news circulated around that the publishing process of his book was nearly over. That meant that he would be having his launch party very soon. Something you were initially excited for, but now dreaded.

The day he had invited you over for dinner, for a brief moment, you had indeed thought about what it would be like to be his date for the party.

But now you simply felt like you were stupid for even having thought about such a thing. You laughed humorlessly at your stupidity.

---

Earlier that week, the paparazzi had caught him and a certain dark haired beauty having dinner at some posh restaurant which you couldn’t afford anytime soon.

And the mystery woman turned out to be a rather well-known model. And ever since, she was rumored to be his date for the party which was to be held the following weekend. The magazines and websites believed that the two made a ‘perfect’ couple and that they looked great together.

Even your friends and colleagues thought the same.

And it hurt.

It hurt a lot.

Even if your boss indeed turned out to be the same arrogant, savage man every one said he was; it didn’t change the fact that you were actually falling for him. Nothing would change the fact that you felt a connection between the two of you when he fucked you that night.

And being the overly emotional, apparently naïve, person you were – you couldn’t simply get rid of the thought of him.

The night of the launch party, you missed it. You made an excuse of being sick and your colleagues easily bought it.

You cried yourself to sleep that night; thinking about everything was . . . heartbreaking. You were in pain.

Thankfully, you wouldn’t have to clean up for work the next day, so you basked in your miseries thoroughly.

---

Saturday morning was just as miserable as the previous night.

You roamed around your apartment aimlessly, purposely avoiding your phone and PC because you knew that your social media would be filled with pictures of last night and frankly, you did not want to see his face, nor his new girl’s.

An hour spent doing nothing later, you decided that going to the gym and working out might actually help take your mind off him and help clear whatever it is that you were feeling.

You got changed, grabbed a water bottle and your keys and made your way to the front door. As you opened it, you found a white box right at your door step.

Hoping that it is not what you think it is, you picked it up and made your way back inside. You didn’t know whether to be angry or cry when you finally opened it.

Inside the impeccable packaging, laid carefully in the middle of the box was the new novel by James Buchanan Barnes.

The book had a hard cover, it was pure white and the title was written in dark, red, capital letters across it.

Weirdly enough, it reminded you of how you looked the morning after he was done with you. How your neck was covered in his cruel, red marks and how your white dress taunted your stained reputation.

A part of you screamed when you opened the book. You briefly skimmed through the foreword page, and you kept turning over each page – dying to read the novel yet wanting to burn it at the same time.

Something in the acknowledgement page caught your eye.

Instead of thanking the usual; he showed his appreciation to a certain Muse.

To all my loyal readers, without whom I would be here today.

Big thanks to my Muse as well; the one who helped me during a tough time and provided me with the right inspiration.

You scoffed as you read it, knowing perfectly well that he was talking about you. No one would ever be able to figure out that you were the Muse. And to be honest, you preferred it that way.

Before you knew it, you were flicking through the book, looking for the last chapter. The chapter. The one written while keeping you in mind. The one written thanks to you. The one which caused your humiliation in the eyes of your boss. The one which acted as a blemish on your image, in your own eyes.

Chapter 21 was the last one, and the most important one. It was the one in which the two main characters got together for the last time, before going their separate ways “for the better.”

Your tears fell uncontrollably as you read it.

The description of the female character matched you perfectly. Her naked body, her appeal, her features – the unkind author even mentioned that she had a mole on her right hip bone. And so did you.

Now you knew why he was observing you as such. Now you knew why he was taking his time in memorizing each part of your body. All because he wanted to write about it later.

The sex scene at the very end was an exact replica of how you and Bucky had fucked each other. He had shamelessly written it all; detailed perfectly. He had written about how her body moved, exactly like yours did.

He described what she tasted like to the male character, probably how you did to him. The description of the white dress his female character wore matched the one you wore to his house as well.

You slammed the book shut and threw it on your bed.

You felt used. The selfish man had used you and there was nothing you could do about it.

You couldn’t believe how easily he had manipulated you. And how easily you fell for his charms.

The book laid on your bed, the red title in capital letters taunted you. And there was still nothing you could do about it.

The book; the soon to be best-seller by J.B Barnes contained a secret only you knew about. Well, you and him.

One which you would carry in your heart for a long, long time – along with the heartache.

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travllingbunny · 5 years ago

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Clarke Griffin’s memories and images in her mindspace

In this post I will list all the drawings from Clarke's mindspace seen in season 6 of The 100 (in episodes 6x06, 6x07 and 6x10) that we have been able to spot - most of which (over 90 of them! Yes, this is gonna be a long post) we've been able to identify, with image comparisons to scenes from the show.

First, credit where credit is due: this idea first came from @ofnailbatsandaxefives who identified many of the drawings and made a bunch of side to side comparisons last year after 6x07 aired in this post.

I later tried to identify the rest of the drawings, with the help of a few people here and on Twitter (rewatching the show also helped), but this resulted in an endless number of reblogs. Episode 6x10 Matryoshka also had more drawings that weren't in 6x07 Nevermind, some images were misindentified, and I decided to redo all the images with better resolution screencaps.

Big thanks to everyone who helped in identifying some of the trickier images (many of them are on Twitter and I don’t know if they have Tumblr profiles), especially (Twitter handles) SheiGarche (who identified several of these and corrected some of my mistakes), Lovestory813, BellarkeMood, taunadora, becki_travels, fabiana_vec, indreamswake, KindZouzou and my Tumblr mutual @jeanie205 (I’m sorry if I forgot anyone).

See also my earlier post about Sets, props and costumes in 6x07 Nevermind.

As a BONUS in addition to the images on Clarke’s memory wall, I’ll also go over audio flashbacks heard at the end of 6x06, in 6x07 and 6x10 - as a mix of voices representing Clarke’s jumbled memories. Many of them can be heard and identified in the episodes, but special thanks to (Twitter user) klarksbell for removing the background sounds from the scenes so some of the background voices could be heard clearer.

(In a follow-up post. I’ll go over Clarke's drawings from her Shallow Valley home in season 5, which we also saw in the mindspace version of her Shallow Valley home in her happy place; and those we saw in season 5, many of which overlap as the set was re-used for 6x07. I’ve also noticed that the art department used many of these drawings for the drawings representing Clarke’s memories on her mindspace wall.)

Before I start listing the moments from Clarke’s memory wall - her mindspace version of the actual cell in Skybox she used to be locked in on the Ark - let’s compare the two different versions of this wall. The first one was seen in the very last scene of 6x06 Memento Mori - where we first learned Clarke was still alive (yeah, yeah, of course no one really bought it that she was dead ;) but it was still such a Hell yeah moment) and in 6x07 Nevermind.

But when we saw Clarke in her mindspace again in 6x10 Matryoshka, the walls were different: there were at least 3 new images that weren’t seen in 6x07, and many other images were moved around and placed in different ways. Which does make sense, as Clarke’s mindspace was reacting to her states of mind, so we should probably assume it was always changing, with different memories being more or less prominent at any given time.

And finally here are the identified images with side-by-side comparisons. Some were obvious and taken straight from the scenes (I've been told there's a software for that), others are a bit less straightforward (and several of them were also seen as Clarke's drawings in season 5).

I'm going to do them chronologically, not by episode but by when those things happened in Clarke's life.

Starting with the image of Clarke and Wells as children on the Ark (confirmed by Jason Rothenberg on Twitter). The closest thing in the show is the video of them Jaha watched in 1x12.

The next one was tricky as it's not a scene from the show either. It was first misidentified as Clarke watching what ALIE showed her in 3x16, nuclear plants melting on Earth, but that scene is shown in another drawing. It shows a young girl watching the Earth from the Ark. We've decided that this is young Clarke on the Ark. I used the Octavia flashback scene from 1x06 for comparison to show this is a window on the Ark and a view from there (not because it's the same scene - which it can't be,as this wouldn’t be Clarke’s memory). But the girl looks younger and is touching the window as if yearning for Earth.

Flashbacks in 1x03, a year before the Pilot: Abby and Jake during the happy times; Jake when Clarke overheard him tell Abby that Ark was dying and he'd go public with it; Wells when Clarke told him about it.

1x01 - there are more images from the Pilot than from any other episode.

The first scene of the show - the image on the floor in the mindspace version of Clarke's cell in Skybox is the same image she drew on the floor of her actual cell.

This portrait of Abby seems to represent the next scene where Abby told Clarke she was being sent to Earth. When the camera zoomed on it in 6x06, we heard the dialogue from that scene over it ("Clarke, I love you so much!" - "Mom?")

When the camera zoomed on this pic of Wells on the dropship in 6x07, we heard Wells' voice saying "Welcome back" as he did in that scene.

I've been told that the inscription from the Ark we see below is a Chinese proverb that means, more or less, "A friend in need is a friend indeed".

"We're back bitches!" twice - the second is from Clarke's POV. The first one was one of the drawings Josephine touched and we (and Josephine) heard an audio flashback of it and this, uh, memorable line.

Mount Weather - the first time Clarke saw it, after landing.

I spot the same image among Clarke's drawings we saw in her Shallow Valley home in season 5, though it was really tiny in the background.

More scenes from the Pilot:

1x03

It's a pity that the plan to have Eli Goree guest star in 6x07 didn't work out, but at least we had many Wells images and even in the voice memories - I clearly heard Clarke telling him "How can you forgive me?"/"I blamed you because my father's dead and it's my mother's fault."

1x04 Finn with one of the pencils from the shelter he found, trying to impress Clarke.

1x05 Brief time of Clarke being happy and infatuated, right before Raven arrived and her heart got broken for the first time.

There was a bit of disagreement about this Bellamy image (or images). It shows up as a part of the drawing of him torturing Lincoln in the scene from 1x07 on one of the walls, but it also appears on its own on the ceiling:

@SheiGarche believes that, since this appears as a part of the Lincoln torture scene, the Bellamy image must be from that episode. However, while the rest of the scene 100% matches the 1x07 scene, Bellamy's image doesn't match - in posture or expression - anything from that episode. On the other hand, especially when you look at the Bellamy image on its own, as it is on the ceiling, it looks most like a drawing based on the scene from 1x02 - "I heard you have a gun''...

I think that the ceiling drawing represents season 1 Bellamy in general, and was drawn based on the 1x02 scene. OTOH, the art department made the 1x07 image from the 1x07 scene but couldn't get a good Bellamy angle so they edited in that same Bellamy image in. You decide.

https://youtu.be/Cj37TWjBwvE?t=59

A Raven portrait, which is probably not about any particular scene (some images just represent certain characters), but it most closely matches this love-triangle moment from 1x08.

The same portrait was seen as one of Clarke's drawings in season 5.

1x09 - negotiations with Anya and the Grounders on the bridge. Also the first time Clarke has ever seen horses in real life.

1x13

Probably some of the Grounder warriors who got burned in the Ring of Fire, but this scene clearly indicated that Clarke was thinking about closing the door on Finn and Bellamy and that they may have been burned.

2x01

This image gave us so much trouble, until it turned out it was just a random woman from Mount Weather who yelled "CONTAINMENT BREACH!" when Clarke entered the mess hall dragging Maya and saw all the people sitting there.

Another one of character portraits that are probably not important for any particular scene or moment. But going by Miller's hair and facial hair, it can only be season 2 Miller at the time he and Clarke were both in MW (this is from 2x02).

Ending of 2x02:

2x03 - Escape from Mount Weather

2x04 Anya after Clarke beat the crap out of her and managed to win their fight. "You fought well".

Now a few more character portraits. This image of Raven with a brace doesn't 100% fit a scene from the show, but it looks a lot like this promo pic of her - except for her red jacket, which she wore in 2x05 when Clarke first saw her with a leg brace.

Since Jaha has a beard and hair, it can only be from season 2 or 3, which limits it to 2x07 or 3x16, the only times he and Clarke were in the same place. I used 2x07 image of non-chipped Jaha, when he came to Camp him and argued for Arkers leaving, pitting him against Clarke,as this would’ve meant abandoning her friends to their fate in MW.

Portrait of Indra - also probably not about any particular scene, but it looks like their first meeting in 2x07. It was also among Clarke's drawings in season 5.

2x08 This image is one of the few that were not seen on the memory wall in 6x07, but appeared in 6x10. Maybe it's because the ALIE projection said in 6x07 her most painful memories were not on the wall - and the scene of Clarke killing Finn was only seen represented in her dark place by the pole and knife. Maybe she was able to process some of those memories better by 6x10?

2x09 Raven holding Finn’s dead body

This profile of Lexa is probably not from any particular scene, but a general image of the warrior leader/ally Lexa from S2. I used the scene of her making a speech in 2x15, but there were scenes in 2x09 (like when she told Clarke that Love is weakness) that looked similar.

2x10 Well, an attack by giant mutant gorilla would be pretty memorable to anyone.

2x11 I previously thought this image of people in radiation suits (also seen among Clarke's drawings in S5) was from 4x12/13, but looking more closely, now I think these are Mount Weather Ground unit guards - specifically, are Emerson and the other Mountain Man who tried to assassinate Clarke in 2x11. The outfits, helmets, guns are the closest match.

2x12 Clarke's guilt over letting the MW missile drop on the people in Tondc was referenced not just in 6x07 when her projection of Octavia called her out on writing her off there, but also in 6x10:

Josephine: I wasn't always like this.

Clarke: I know the feeling. I mean, look around you.

*Josephine looks at this big image on the wall*

2x15 - breaching the Mount Weather door

I'm about 95% sure that this picture of Lexa is her betrayal in 2x15.

2x16:

"Together" - "Together"

3x01 The most important character in the show! LOL

...seriously though, this little bunny (? who looks more like a squirrel in the drawing?) that Clarke used as a bait to catch a panther, stands for the 3 months Clarke spent in wilderness.

The only image of Niylah on the wall. It's the scene when she lied to protect Clarke when Roan and a bounty hunter came looking for her.

Another character portrait not related to a specific scene, and another one that was seen as one of Clarke's drawings hanging in her Shallow Valley home in S5. Going by the hair and beard, it's seasons 3-4 Kane, so I used the scene of his and Abby's meeting with Clarke in 3x03.

3x04

3x07 - there are 3 images of Lexa from this episode

Lexa smiling during the talk in which she asked Clarke to stay - this is the most prominent of the images of Lexa (one of the images that appear multiple times on the wall + had a flashback). Seems these softer moments are larger in Clarke's mind than warrior/leader Lexa.

The second most prominent image of Lexa (one of the pictures the camera zoomed in on in 6x06, when we also heard the dialogue among the audio memories - "Can we talk about something else?" - "We don't have to talk at all").

and Lexa right after she was shot by Titus.

3x11 What turned out to be the most important of all Clarke's memories, as it contained info on the neural mesh and how Raven was freed from ALIE and that Clarke has to remove from the wall and hide from Josephine.

3x13 Luna, refusing the Flame

3x15 When Clarke didn't break and give ALIE the password and it almost cost her her mother's life. This drawing was previously misidentified as Murphy being hanged in S1 - some thought there were two hanging scenes, but there's just one and it's clearly indoors.

3x16 - there are several scenes from the City of Light. Including the image of the COL itself. You can see even see the tiny figures of Lexa and the people she's fighting.

What ALIE showed Clarke: the Earth, full of nuclear plants melting, telling her about the upcoming Praimfaya.

Clarke pulling the kill switch and destroying COL

One of the first things Clarke saw after returning from the City of Light was Murphy is one of his most heroic moments - pumping Ontari's heart so Clarke could take the Flame.

4x01

This one seems a bit random: it's a moment when Indra came and hugged Kane while Octavia, Clarke, Bellamy and Abby were already there in the Grounder shrine - but I think it's important as the scene when they all discussed what to do in the situation and Clarke told them all about Praimfaya.

Roan, after agreeing to an alliance because of Praimfaya, giving a public speech in Polis to say that 'an attack against the 13th clan is an attack on all of us'.

The drawing of Arkadia is another one that was hanging in Clarke's Shallow Valley home in season 5 - and was also seen in the mindspace version of that home in 6x07. I used a scene from 4x03.

4x04 There are 3 scenes from this episode, and all of them have to do with Jasper. The first two are two of Jasper's pranks: "floating" Jaha, and the prank Jasper pulled on Clarke. But the mood of the latter got ruined because he had already found the List before Clarke came in. (Josephine touched this drawing briefly in 6x07 and we heard the audio flashback: (Monty: "Clarke, wait..." - Clarke: "Really?" )

And what happened right after, in the same scene, when Jasper started telling everyone present about the List. (Jasper's angry comments can also be heard clearly among the mix of voices at the beginning of 6x07 - more about that later)

The portrait of Emori is probably from 4x07, when they had their first major interaction. It was also one of Clarke's drawings that could be glimpsed in the background in S5.

Skip the next one if you don't want to see an image of a person dying a gruesome and painful death in a radiation chamber.

4x08 The unfortunate Grounder thief from the Rock Line clan whose name we never learned, at the moment of his death.

4x10 Octavia in the Conclave - more of a symbolic representation (with the sigils around her). This was a very prominent drawing in Clarke's sketchbook that we saw a couple of times in season 5.

4x11 Another one of the 3 images that weren't seen in 6x07 but were in the second version of the memory wall, in 6x10 - Clarke pointing a gun at Bellamy to stop him from opening the bunker door, before she broke down and cried. The drawing even shows Clarke’s hand with a gun.

4x12 the rocket in Becca's lab

4x13 Clarke being left behind in Praimfaya and watching her friends leave while she was aligning the satellite dish so they could get to the Ring and survive.

This was also another prominent drawing from Clarke's sketchbook we saw in season 5.

There's another scene from 4x13, but that one happens 6 years later, so I'll come back to it later...

5x01 Post-Praimfaya

Polis was Clarke's destination after she left Becca's lab - trying and failing to open the door of the bunker after the temple had collapsed on it. Then realizing she'll be alone for at least 5 years.

Then she went to Arkadia, where she only found "ghosts" - the chest with Maya's music player, Jasper's goggles and his letter to Monty (as we saw in the flashback in Clarke's "dark place", where the chest played an important role).

The bird that kind of tried to eat Clarke (?), showed Clarke where Eden was, and then got thanked, shot and eaten by Clarke.

Shallow Valley

This image is both a memory of 6 year old Madi (not the moment they met, but when Clarke was drawing her while she was fishing), of Clarke drawing her and of the drawing she made and gave Madi to make friends with her.

Madi and Clarke, but some 6 years later. This image was prominent of at the beginning of 6x07 when we saw a flashback of it when Clarke touched it ("I'm sorry they left without you" - "If I was with them, I never would've met you").

4x13 - 2199 days after Praimfaya: Gagarin transport ship, the moment when Clarke saw it clearly and realized it wasn't the ship she was hoping for ("Never mind, I see you"), but one to be afraid of.

5x03 - Makes snse that images of Diyoza, Shaw and McCreary are all from the episode where they captured and tortured Clarke.

5x04

Bellamy reuniting with Clarke.

Coming out of the bunker.

5x06 - Madi watching Octavia practice.

5x09 - There were quite a few changes between the memory wall in 6x07 and 6x10, and the most obvious one was seen right after Clarke woke up in her mindspace - the big image of Bellamy when Octavia arrested him and right before Clarke left him at her mercy in Polis.

5x12 - This is one of the rare drawings that doesn’t fully represent a memory correctly as Clarke saw it. But it makes sense to me that Clarke remembers it this way - seeing Madi in pain when she zapped the shock collar to stop her from leaving and going to war. But in fact, the screenshot shows Madi shocked that Clarke put a shock collar on her. Clarke closed her eyes and had her back turned to Madi, because she couldn’t watch it when she actually zapped the shock collar, and only heard her scream.

This was another drawing Josephine touched and had a flashback of (we heard Madi screaming and Clarke saying “I won’t let you die in this war”), commenting "Child abuse dressed up as protection!"

5x13 - Clarke pulling the lever to close the door of the Gagarin ship, after waiting until the last moment for Bellamy to come in, closing the door after Bellamy, Monty, Emori and Murphy were inside and the missiles were already hitting the Earth.

One last image. It's clearly Madi, and with the horizontal placement of the drawing, I thought it was Clarke putting Madi in cryo. But it turns out the same image - only vertical - was one of her drawings she had in Shallow Valley in season 5... so, I don't know.

There are other images that we couldn't link to anything specific or weren't sure. Mostly locations, objects and nature images. 1) A forest? 2) Waterfall/rocky shore? 3) Rubble?)

If anyone identifies any of them or notice other images or anything else, I’ll be editing and reblogging this post.

BONUS - audio memories

ending scene of 6x06

vimeo

Lines I can hear:

over the image of Abby: Abby and Clarke in 1x01: "Clarke, I love you so much!" - "Mom?"

"I'm scared"? - this line can be heard clearly but I don’t know who it is. It sounds like a child, but I don’t thin Madi or Charlotte ever said it.

Finn in 1x01 when they see the deer: "No animals, eh?"

Madi in 5x11: "I love you, Clarke" (the entire line was “...but we’re on the wrong side of this war”

Clarke to Wells in 1x03, after learning the truth: "How can you forgive me?"

Madi to Clarke in 5x01, during the scene by the fire: "I'm sorry they left without you."

Bellamy trying to convince Clarke not to leave in 2x16 “You don’t have to do this alone”.

Clarke to Madi in 5x12, as she puts a shock collar on her: "I will not let you die in this war!"

over the image of Lexa in bed with Clarke - Lexa and Clarke in 3x07: "Can we talk about something else?” - We don't have to talk at all."

over the image of Bellamy: Bellamy to Lincoln in 1x07: "You're gonna give us the antidote or you're gonna wish you had". Other lines whispered in the background:

Bellamy in 2x16: "(If you want forgiveness) I'll give that to you"

Bellamy during his reunion with Clarke in 5x04: "Clarke, you saved us all."

"This is how we get to peace" (sounds like Bellamy but Clarke was the one who actually said it in 5x08)

Bellamy in 1x07: "Who we are and who we have to be to survive are two different things."

opening scene of 6x07

vimeo

Clarke to Wells in 1x03: “I blamed you because my father’s dead and it’s my mother’s fault” (heard while Clarke is looking at the wall with the image of her parents, among others)

(over the image of Wells) Bellamy: “Who else knows about this?” (in 1x04, when Clarke realized one of the Delinquents had killed Wells)

(also over the image of Wells) Wells: “Welcome back!” (1x01)

(over the image of Roan & Lexa fighting in 3x04: “It’s always something with you!” – Roan to Clarke in 4x01

we also hear Lexa’s and Roan’s grunts during their fight

(over the two images of Madi) Madi (5x11): “I love you, Clarke”

Madi screaming when Clarke zaps the shock collar in 5x12

Two angry lines by Jasper are overlapping as the camera slides from Lexa to Bellamy:

as we see Lexa in focus: “Truth hurts” - Jasper in 3x11, after ALIE!Raven blamed her for the deaths of Jake, Wells, Finn & Lexa

as we see Bellamy in focus: “I found your list. I guess we know who really matters to you” (Jasper in 4x04)

Madi in 5x12: “I’m not a child anymore, Clarke. I’m the Commander, and my people are dying”

(ETA) Jasper yelling “We are Apogee!” and Clarke, Octavia, Monty and Finn yelling happily with him, just before he gets speared in the Pilot

Clarke in 3x11: “I let her get to me.”

the flashback to Madi and Clarke by the fire in 5x01 “I’m sorry they left without you” - “If I was with them, I never would have met you”

more of Jasper’s ranting in 3x11: “I was going to save everyone!” (talking about his plans in 2x16 to kill Cage)

flashback to the Pilot, as we see the drawing on the floor: “Prisoner 319, face the wall!” Some of the lower volume lines in the background, which can only be identified after the background noise was removed:

Bellamy to Clarke in 3x11, after ALIE!Raven had made her lost it: “I’ll let her beat me up for a while.”

ALIE-controlled Raven yelling “Let me go!” in 3x11, when she’s trying to find out the location and help ALIE, and everyone grabs her and subdues her

Octavia in 2x16: “I know where my loyalties lie!”

Bellamy in 5x09, when he brought Madi to see Clarke in her cell: “Clarke, this isn’t goodbye”.

I also hear someone yelling "Octavia!", and mentions of Jasper’s and Jaha’s names.

Josephine and Clarke in 6x07

vimeo

Josephine touching images and we hear flashbacks of scenes from 1x01 (”We’re back, bitches!), 5x12 (Madi screaming when Clarke puts a shock collar and Clarke saying “I won’t let you die in this war”) and 4x04 (”Clarke, wait...” - “Really?” when Clarke got covered in foam as Jasper pranked her). There are many other whispered lines I don't recognize.

In 6x10, however, everything was mixed up - Clarke's and Josephine's memories were all mashed up, because the boundaries between their minds were disappearing - so it’s pretty much impossible to make out anything. But Clarke’s memories are probably the same mix as in 6x07, because I can still hear Wells saying "Welcome back".

vimeo

If anyone notices something I did not, please tell - I will edit this post with any new info!

#the 100 #clarke's mind space #clarke's memories #clarke griffin #the 100 6x07 #nevermind #the 100 season 6 #the 100 6x10 #matryoshka

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