#YOU'VE BEEN ASKING BUT I DON'T HAVE AN ANSWER (DAVID) | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

psychedelic-ink · 11 months ago

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ㅤㅤㅤ✦ 𝐅𝐎𝐋𝐋𝐎𝐖𝐄𝐃 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐁𝐄𝐀𝐒𝐓

ㅤㅤjoel miller x f!reader

genre: angst, hurt comfort, minors dni

word count: 5k

summary: You, both a member of David's group and one of his former victims, are already contemplating escape when Ellie arrives at the resort. Seeking Ellie, you decide to take advantage of the unexpected opportunity to run. But before you can find Ellie, you cross paths with Joel instead.

warnings: age gap, virgin!reader, mentions of past grooming attempt, mentions of cannibalism, past rape attempt, PTSD, blood, canon typical violence, no smut for now, spoilers for s01 e08

a/n: this was previously named let me follow this is also new for me because I've never written virgin!reader before (mostly because i didn't have the best experience with that) but i felt like it was fitting with the story and where i wanna take it in the future.

Revelation 13:3-4 "One of the heads of the beast seemed to have had a fatal wound, but the fatal wound had been healed. The whole world was filled with wonder and followed the beast. People worshiped the dragon because he had given authority to the beast, and they also worshiped the beast and asked, 'Who is like the beast? Who can wage war against it?'"

The wind blows cold. You, a girl who has lost everything, sit on your knees on the ice. Your family has been long gone. Your hope dwindles, hanging only by a simple thread. You don't know how long you've been crying. Your hands, young yet covered in the warmth of blood. The scent of pine reaches your nose, and you sniff involuntarily, just like you did before you lost everything. Before the world ended. You hear the sound of men approaching you, and you wish they would just kill you. Sixteen and already you wish for the sweet mercy of death.

“Now what do we have here?” A man speaks, his tone is humorful. Melodic. Your mind and body already slipping and reaching towards the warmth of it. “You poor young thing. Where’s your family, girl?”

When you finally look up from your hands you see a man on a horse. Typical for this day and age. Near him hovers four others. All of them looking weathered and older than you. Your eyes move back to the one that seems in charge. He has strawberry blond hair and a thin beard of the same color. His eyes narrow slightly. They pop under the cold blue sky and the frozen lake. You don’t know what to say. How to answer this man who is an obvious threat.

He hops off the horse, and you attempt to move away but your legs are frozen in place, your heart beating loudly against your ribcage. He kneels next to you. Observing. You swallow, fear coating your tongue with the taste of bile. His eyes soften when he takes in the sight of you. Bruised and wounded. Your eyes squeeze shut as he reaches out and pushes a loose strand of hair only for the wind to bring it back.

“No need to be afraid, child. We’re a peaceful group and there are more like us if you want to join.”

“J–Join?” your teeth chatter, your lips hurting as you speak. There’s a bit of light filling the cracks of the iron cage of your heart. Hope. You realize it to be. Hope that you found someone to help you. To look after you in this infected world. He must’ve seen it in your expression because his soft smile grows, eyes glimmering with mirth.

“So afraid,” he hums. “But we’ll change that soon enough. You’ve been brought here for a reason. And I think I know what your purpose is in our small clan.”

He swiftly stands, leaving you dumbfounded and still upon the freezing ice. Your mouth gapes, your body buzzing with a newfound need to stay alive.

“What’s your name?” you ask. He throws an old coat over your shoulders. Not his own. But one he had extra on his horse. Probably taken from someone else who was more unfortunate than you.

“David,” he answers gently, as if he’s scared you’ll run away. Before you reach out, he grabs your hand and lifts you. You nearly fall, only prevented thanks to the strong arm that wraps around your waist. He’s warm. Much warmer than you expected. “Lovely to have you with us.”

The men near him don’t seem to share the same sentiment but you smile all the same.

You don’t want to think for a while. Maybe not even for a millennia. If possible.

10 YEARS LATER

Whispers of death surround you. The names of the fallen circling you and squeezing your heart tight. Suffocated. That’s how you feel. Helpless. Trapped. Consumed. Faint murmurs fill the hall room. The cold that seeps through the wood, the same wood that was intended for summer and not winter, worries everyone, including you. But at the same time, you think this is what you all deserve. An icy grave. Freezing to death and surrendering to the cold.

You were never meant to feel warmth. You know that better now.

The chair creaks next to you and when your eyes shift to the side. You see James taking a seat. A sudden rage fills you. An indescribable rage. It disappears as soon as it appears like it always does. He turns to you and gives you a curt nod. You don’t nod back. He might think he’s looking after you but he’s not. All he’s done is turn the other cheek to a faith that is spewed by a liar. A deceiver. A disgusting man that makes your stomach turn—

The aforementioned man finally stands and clears his throat. Loudly. But not loud enough to overpower Hannah’s cries. She sniffles. Rubs her eyes roughly. Her mother wraps an arm around her and starts whispering words of comfort. You have no idea what that comfort would be since it was her father that had died. You remember the day you lost your parents. You felt utterly defeated at the time. Hopeless. Swallowed by darkness. Your eyes rubbed raw and stinging from crying and crying and crying—

David opens the bible and reads. His glasses are perched innocently above his nose. His voice, despite the rasp of time, still carries that melodic lilt. You don’t listen. Refuse to.

“And I saw a new heaven and a new Earth. For the first heaven and the first Earth were passed away. . .”

You close your eyes with a stuttered breath. Your body is thrumming. Your legs shaking and heart pounding. These are the most painful times for you. The times where you have to listen to him and pretend to be moved by God’s will. You hate hearing his voice. The same voice that told you you were his. The same voice that commanded you to strip for him completely when it was only your arm that was wounded.

Your pulse quickens. Your cheeks grow warm.

You can’t breathe. You can’t breathe.

It happened years ago but it doesn’t matter. No matter the passage of time it still feels like it happened yesterday. His touch on your cheek. The way his blue eyes ate you up as he stalked around you, pretending to be worried while he was just taking in the sight of your body. A soft touch here and a soft touch there. Knuckles following the curve of your spine. Palms feeling the weight of your behind. The memory makes you sick. The way he was marinating you for something unspeakable.

He enjoyed when you flinched. Enjoyed the way you whimpered and curled away. He laughed and did nothing else. He wrapped a bandage around your arm while you remained stark naked. Then he left. Leaving it to James to come to the room, telling you to get dressed while averting his eyes.

You jerk, eyes going wide as a sharp cry echoes within the thin walls.

“. . . And I heard a great voice out of heaven say, ‘Behold… the tabernacle of God is with men. And God shall wipe away all tears from their eyes—’”

He’s trying hard to ignore it. You can tell by the way his lips twitch ever so slightly, his nostrils flaring with annoyance when another cry is heard.

He stops.

And your heart stops along with it.

You’re still afraid even when his anger isn’t directed at you. Cold beads of sweat make you feel clammy and gross. You want to hide. And even though you blame him, you want to move closer to James, hoping that whatever it is that’s going to happen, he can shield you from it.

David turns his gaze towards Hannah and Joyce, Hannah’s mother, and lets out a sigh as if it pains him to see someone so distraught.

“I’ve read this passage too many times,” He walks towards Hannah, his brows slightly furrowed and eyes full of rue. He places the book on the table and removes his glasses, placing it above it. You’re surprised when he kneels but your stomach twists as he places a hand above Hannah’s knee. She’s unaware, her bottom lip trembling. “Do you remember what comes next?”

She shakes her head.

“‘And God will wipe away all tears from their eyes… ‘that there will be no more death, neither sorrow, nor crying, neither will there be any more pain… for the former things are passed away.’”

Your eyes move to the crowd. Everyone holding on to one another, eyes red and wet. Hannah takes a sharp inhale, your gaze promptly landing back to the scene.

“Do you know what that means?” She nods and when she does, David grips her shoulder. “Good.”

He exchanges a glance with the mother and stands up, a groan dropping from his lips as he does so. You feel a momentary satisfaction at his discomfort.

“When can we bury him?”

The question surprises everyone, including David who doesn’t show it. The only oddity is him looking at James, a gaze so quick and short that if you hadn’t been sitting next to James you would’ve missed it. “The ground is too cold to dig. We’ll bury your father in the spring.”

Hannah seems content with the answer for now. The sermon is over when David opens the doors. His eyes linger on you as you get up, slow and groggy. Despite her recent loss, you find Hannah to be lucky. At least she had someone to protect her for a good while, her body free of being viewed as an object that belonged to someone else.

You don’t look at either James or David as you leave. Not that it mattered. They were too busy talking amongst each other.

You wipe the snow that catches over your eyelashes with the back of a gloved hand. Everyone had a job to do and yours today was to chop wood in the freezing weather. You hate the feeling of shivering and sweating at the same time. It’s a disgusting feeling. But you were the youngest of the group—and had fallen out of favor with David, which meant that he didn’t try to get into your good graces by giving you the stay-by-the-fire duties. Not that you missed it. You’d rather freeze to death than give any part of yourself to him.

Your feet drag over the snow. Your biceps ache with the added weight of the firewood within your arms. Breathing from your mouth, your eyes are drawn to one of the sheds. That place always gives you the creeps. It’s always locked. The windows dusty and blocked by cabinets from the inside so no one could see. You never thought of asking what the hell was in there, no one else did either. Everyone just wanted to survive. A herd of sheep following the blood-stained mouth of their leader. Not that they knew he had a blood-stained mouth. That information was only reserved for his victims and James.

A log slips from the top and you loudly groan towards the sky. You need to leave this hell hole. You don’t know when. But you have to.

Just as you lean down you sense someone coming towards you at full speed. Jumping, you move back only to see James huffing and puffing with a small package in his hand. You raise a brow. “Weren’t you supposed to be hunting?” you ask, picking up the log. “What the hell are you doing here running like a maniac? ‘Scared the shit out of me.”

“David is at gunpoint.” Good. “And the crazy girl demanded some medicine. Hopefully, I can sneak up on her.”

You scoff, “A girl? Since when does David follow any kind of demand?”

“It’s complicated.” He looks uncomfortable, you must’ve struck a nerve with that. “She’s with the man that killed Alec.”

“You’re taking medicine to her? Actual medicine.”

“David said. . .”

You raise a hand and shoo him away, “Just go. I don’t care.”

Watching him leave, your brows knit tightly together. This had to be a joke, they found the girl and by proxy, the man who killed Alec and. . . David is helping the girl? You don’t necessarily care for revenge— but the fact that he’s actively wanting to show just how kind he is to this girl is suspicion-worthy. He likes what he sees and pulls a curtain over his true colors to obtain it. You know word of this will come out soon. You’re positive that James told at least one person when he went in to get the medicine. It would spread like wildfire.

And most of the people here, starving and cold with no warmth left in their chests are hungry for the heat of revenge.

Just like you had predicted rumors were spiraling.

You’re sitting someplace unnoticeable and near the windows. Snow hits the glass like heavy rain. The clear panels freezing over, you visibly shudder. Your decades-old jacket isn’t enough anymore to keep you warm.

Your head turns with another whisper coming nearby. Something about a girl being with the man who killed Alec. Your eyes shift to Hannah and her mother sitting in the middle, the young girl seemed furious, her eyes hardened but still carried a juvenile chubbiness in her cheeks. The look doesn’t suit her. It looks like a drop of blood on top of snow. No one is touching their food. Steaming bowls of meat sitting on top of weathered tables. You’re not hungry so you push it away. You’re hoping with every fiber in your body that they haven’t found the girl. You wouldn't wish David on even your worst enemy.

The doors open with a loud, bone-chilling creak. You jump at the sound. Soft flakes of snow hurry inside, melting as soon as the light touches them. James holds the door open for David and the latter, with great effort, drags a large stag inside. The entire room stops breathing, their eyes glued to the scene, their minds full of questions.

The door closes. Suddenly you feel trapped and suffocated.

“Big one,” David says, looking towards the tables with a crooked smile. Not even one person is talking now. Just deafening silence. James moves away quickly, his eyes find yours, and takes a seat next to you. You’re not sure why he hovers around you. Maybe in some sick way, he thinks you’re friends?

David sighs loudly, bringing your attention back to him. “If you’ve heard a rumor… yes, we found a girl who was with the man who took Alec from us. When the sun rises, I’ll lead a group out to pick up her trail. Won’t be hard to find in the snow. We’ll follow it to wherever they’re hiding… and we’ll bring that man to justice.”

“You should kill him. You should kill both of them.”

David’s head snaps towards the vengeful voice. Your blood freezes, a tingle settling at the base of your neck, your skin grows taut over your muscles. You’re afraid. And your fear only grows when David stalks towards the girl, a faint smile on his lips, he removes his gloves. One by one. His movements slow, unrushed. He stands in front of Hannah, briefly stares down at her—

You flinch at the sound. The loudest smack and thud you’ve ever heard. Your eyes widen, heart beating in your throat as your eyes remain glued to Hannah who’s scrambling on the floor. David seems unbothered by it. Like he hadn’t just backhanded a young girl. The mom stands, murmurs getting louder, without thinking you attempt to get up too, thinking of all the ways you can kill the man.

But James—fucking James—he stops you with a hand on your knee. You give him a disgusted look and he quickly pulls his hand away. But the damage was done. You settle back, the chair groaning underneath you.

You watch as David halts the mother with a single hand, gently gesturing her to sit back down. She does—she does and it drives you insane. It’s surreal almost. There’s a loud hum in your ears as David kneels next to Hannah, her eyes looking anywhere but him. Scared, she takes David’s offered hand. You feel sick. Your stomach churns, bile rising to your throat. He helps her up and sits her down. He’s still on his knees, his eyes soft.

Disgusting.

“I know you think you don’t have a father anymore. But the truth is, Hannah, you will always have a father. And you will show him respect when he’s speaking.”

Tension rises with his words. You can tell from the brief glances that happen behind David’s back. However, it’s not enough. No one does anything. They just sit and wait as Hannah’s mother brings David a bowl of food. They begin to eat, the rest follows.

Spoons clink. Wind blows. Birds caw.

You look down at the meat, clutching the fork in your hand. You can’t. Something disturbs you. James also lingers before he takes the first bite. Something in his eyes makes you rather starve than taste.

You look back at Hannah. Her bottom lip is trembling, her cheek red.

She eats.

“Where is she?”

David’s eyes glimmer with amusement, his teeth showing as he smiles. You’re out in the open. Snow falling all around you. Your chest squeezes. You can barely breathe, yet your chest continues to rise and fall.

“Is my little lamb jealous?” Heat simmers under your skin. How fucking dare he? “Head back. This doesn’t concern you.”

“Like hell, it doesn’t,” you snap. His eyes narrow and for a brief moment, your mind flashes images of him tying you to the bed whenever you swore. A nasty shiver crawls up your spine. “Let her go.”

“And why would I do that?” he shakes his head. “Do you want to know why I never touched you again? I got bored. I knew I could have you whenever and wherever I wanted. The fire in your eyes died. You had no fight left in you.” he chuckles. You’re trembling now, your legs feeling weak underneath you. “And I enjoyed seeing the fear in your eyes whenever I entered the room. . . wondering. . . thinking about when I would finally make you my own.”

You don’t know what to say. The snowfall picks up in pace. Hurling, dancing around you both. A sign of a storm. The cold kisses your cheeks. David grins and extends his arms towards the sky, you take a step back.

“I finally found myself a pet that’s fun to play with. Someone that won’t be so easily broken.”

Broken. Broken. Broken.

That’s what you are, isn’t it? Broken. Alone. Unwanted.

You have to get to the girl and get the hell out of here.

You lift your chin, “You’re sick.”

Bad move. His nostrils flare with anger as he grips your chin and forcefully brings you closer to his face. As someone who went on and on about you being too submissive for his liking, he sure as hell seems to hate that you’re defying him.

“Don’t you dare talk back to me,” he spits, squeezing your jaw until your lips part with a whimper. “I'm the one who saved you and spared you. I’m a good man but never forget that you belong to me.” Without hesitation, he cups you between your legs. You stiffen at the touch, fear chills your skin, feeling little pins needling into your muscles. “You’re mine to break and when I do, you'll love it. And you'll finally be a woman.”

He doesn’t linger. Leaving you, he disappears between the cabins. You collapse to the snow, shaking, trembling and tears flooding your eyes. You fist at the snow, your fingers becoming numb as it melts between your fingers. You were a fool to think that you were safe. You genuinely thought that after so long he’d let you do your own thing within the community. But no. He still had his eyes on the “prize”.

You want to run into the forest but you can’t. Your eyes fall to the ground where his footsteps are perfectly visible. Now you know where the girl is.

The door that is always locked is open.

Your brows knit together as you observe the old wood swaying back and forth due to the wind. Your skin is icy cold. Coming closer you see that the lock had been broken, shattered. You see a spray of blood on the snow and that entices you to take a step forward into the dark cabin. You know you shouldn’t be taking any detours. Your backpack is secured tightly against your back filled with essentials and some sentimental items you gathered during the years. You should go. But you’re curious. You have to know what’s been in this shed for all these years.

You sigh. Curiosity killed the cat.

“But satisfaction brought it back,” you murmur.

You pull out your gun, your finger on the trigger as you explore. It seems pretty standard. Some items, lots of dust—

Two large hands shove you roughly against the wall. You choke, all the air leaving your lungs as your gun is knocked out of your hand. Momentarily you’re pulled away and slammed back against the wall again, this time the back of your head thudding against the wood. You groan in pain. Your body screaming at you to run and hide.

“Where is she?” you hear a man hiss through gritted teeth. “Where the fuck is she?”

You’re slammed once more, tears prick the corner of your eyes and you barely manage to raise your hands.

When you finally manage to open your eyes, panting heavily, you see a disheveled man. At first glance, he doesn’t make you feel that you’re in danger—which is an ironic feeling considering the throbbing at the back of your head is his doing. Lines run across his face, his eyes full of worry and anger. You immediately know who he is. There was only one girl after all.

“You’re—” you swallow. “You’re him.”

His hand tightens around your throat and a gun is hastily pressed against your forehead, “Tell me where she is or I’m shootin’ you.”

“I’m actually trying to find her myself,” you answer, which by the looks of it was the wrong this to say. “I—I wanted to help her. Free her. David. . . the man that took her—he’s a monster.”

His eyes narrow, “You from this community?”

“He took me in when I was sixteen,” you explain. “I had no choice but to join.”

“And why should I trust you?”

“Because I know exactly where she is,” you bite the inside of your cheek. “And I know that you’re hurt. I can help.”

“Then what?”

You shake your head, not understanding. He clarifies. “You help me and then what? What’s the catch?”

Your eyes blur with tears. You’re just so fucking tired.

“I just want to leave.”

Something about the way you whisper must’ve wake something in him because he lets you go. He lights the flashlight. “I ain’t in the business of takin’ in strays.”

What? “What?”

“Just leave. I don’t need your help.”

“You—You don’t understand!” Just as he turns you jump towards him, fisting the back of his jacket, the fabric isn’t soft enough for you to get a good grip on him so you grab his shoulder instead. “He’s a monster! Everyone fucking underestimates him—he’ll—he’ll—!”

He stills. Rushed steps coming to a halt. You think he’s going to shove you off, push you away but he’s glued. With the fear of silence, you pull back and step to the side. He’s still not acknowledging you. His hard gaze glued to where the flashlight is illuminating. You follow the light speckled with dust. Horror curling in your stomach like a hook.

There are three of them. Three bodies hanging like animals being prepared to cut into pieces.

“Oh god—”

You bring your hands to your head, your heart ramming into your chest, you shake your head. “No, no, no, no—” You take a step back. The man rips his gaze away from the bodies, away from what it implies. You take another step back and another. You’re shaking, your eyes glued to the floor. He—David—he fed you people.

Fucking people. People that you knew.

Finally, the scent hits you. The smell of flesh and blood.

You scream.

The man is on you in an instant, you tumble to the ground and he goes down with you willingly. “Shit—no no no. Shut the hell up— shut the hell up.”

The knot that forms in your throat is large and uncomfortable. You bawl your eyes out, hiccuping against his chest. He takes you into his arms and you can’t be bothered to think of the why of his actions. His biceps tighten around you. You’re still shouting, still thrashing around, crying—he presses you further into his chest, muffling your sounds. You vaguely hear him shushing you, telling you it’s gonna be alright. Lies. He’s telling you lies.

You start to quiet down and only then do you begin to make sense of his words. He’s murmuring bits of his life. Of what he’s seen. You finally learn the name of the girl: Ellie. The thick baritone of his voice is like a melody. It soothes you. Maybe not fully. But it helps calm your raging heart. You breathe. He smells like wood and snow.

“Thank you,” you manage to whisper, pulling away. “Please let me help you.”

“Yeah—Yeah, you can help.” He guides you to your feet in a way that your back is turned to the bodies. Just the thought of what's behind you makes your lungs cave in.

“What’s your name?” you ask, desperate for any kind of distraction.

“Joel.”

“Alright, Joel,” you head towards the door. “Let’s go.”

She escaped.

You can’t help but be impressed at the sight of an empty cell. But the pride for a girl you haven’t officially met dies in your throat when you see who’s against the wall, covered in blood.

“You knew him?” Joel asks, his tone lacking any kind of grief. A question asked more so as a courtesy than actual worry.

You stare at him. His blue eyes now lifeless, lips parted. It almost looks like he’s sitting, just taking a rest on the cold floor. It would be easy to make you believe that if it wasn’t for the cleaver sticking out of his neck.

“No,” you answer dryly. Yet, you still walk to the dead man and gently close his eyes. You warned him this would happen. Joel doesn’t ask any more questions. He doesn’t have to. “We need to find her before David gets to her.”

Joel immediately rushes out, you following him close by. You feel utterly useless. You have no idea where Ellie might’ve run off to. It doesn’t help that some part of your brain is still occupied with James. You hated him in a way but still, he was there. You’ve known him nearly your entire life. It felt off to be the one to close his eyes.

The storm had stopped. The sun reflecting from the snow irritating your eyes. Joel seems to be getting irritated with every step. Desperate.

He’s the one that sees her first.

Ellie staggers out the large building currently being engulfed in flames. Her walk is uncoordinated, her steps uneven as she breathes in the icy air. Before you can warn Joel not to startle her, he’s already running, grabbing her by the shoulders. Your heart shatters into a million tiny pieces when you hear her screams and shouts.

“It’s me,” Joel says, cradling her face with both hands. She hits his chest with sideway fists, he holds her more firmly. “It’s me.”

You see it in her face, the exact moment she realizes. You see blood splattered across her face, her expression hurts you. It’s the same expression you’ve seen on yourself for years.

“Hey… look. It’s me… It’s me. It’s okay.”

She mumbles, “He—” Before Ellie can complete the sentence she wraps her thin arms around Joel, the man hugs her tight. Your heart shatters then. The damns you were so adamant on keeping locked being teared down by people you barely know.

You cry. Salty tears just bursting out of your eyes. There’s no slow build, no single tear and then the rest. It just all comes down flooding. Your shoulders sag, your fingertips numb.

“It’s okay. It’s okay, baby girl. I got you.”

You sniff and look up to the sky. Fuck. It’s so hard to stop when it begins. You see grey smoke rising into the crisp air. He’s dead. You don’t need to see the body to know that he is.

Your eyes drop to the two survivors embracing infront of you. That girl saved your life while you were trying to save hers. You were too late. Both of you were. She looked the beast in the eye and slayed it. Freeing you.

They part and Joel quickly wraps his jacket around her tiny trembling shoulders. You’re empty. What now? That was his question. You don’t know. Do you go back? Do you explain to the people who David manipulated just how horrendous he really was? Would they believe you?

Your eyes are drawn to a flicker of movement. Joel is looking straight at you. Ellie still unaware of your presence and you can’t blame her.

You’re lost.

But then his eyes soften with something akin to understanding and he gestures you to follow.

Like a lamb to a stream, you do.

#joel miller x reader #joel miller x fem!reader #joel miller x f!reader #joel miller fanfic #the last of us fanfic #pedro pascal characters #pedro pascal character fanfic

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patscorner · 7 months ago

Text

FAMILY DINNER PART 3

Summary: Chris joins your family for dinner for the first time and it does not go as planned

Tw: Swearing, narcissistic dad, verbal arguing, panic attack mentions of alcohol use, use of taser, police, mentions of ed(NO DETAIL), lmk if I missed something

______________________________

The door swings open, and your eyes widen. You're met with two police officers, hands on their tasers, faces of stone. Behind them are 3 cop cars all parked haphazardly on your front lawn.

How long were you out of it? Who called them? Why are there so many of them?

You gasp, and Chris squeezes your hand. You look at him before looking at the officer. "Hi, how can I help you?" You ask, not even attempting to hide the nervousness.

"Hey, we got a call from a David, saying that he was attacked." The officer looked at Chris with raised eyebrows. "You wanna tell me what happened to your face, kid?"

"You've gotta be fucking kidding me." You speak out. "DAD?!" You yell into the house leaving Chris behind, and turning around and frantically searching for your father. You walk into every single room and not a David in sight.

When you get to the one room you hadn't checked, you notice it's locked. You put your ear to the door and listen closely. "Dad?" You ask loudly. All you get for an answer is soft sobs. Shit.

You reach on top of the door frame and grab a small key, swiftly unlocking the door. You swing the door open, looking frantically for the sound of the sobs. The lights off, so you turn it on, only to be met with your younger sister, Julia. She's sitting on the floor of the closet in the fetal position, just like you had been a couple of years prior. Your heart broke as she reminded you of your past experiences of this fucked up family.

"Hey, hey, hey, baby, hi." You say, kneeling down to her and pulling her onto your chest. Her sniffles turn into harsh sobs as she melts into your chest.You run your hands through your sisters curls as you feel your chest tighten with sympathy.

"Shhh, it's okay... it's okay." You whisper in her hair, planting a kiss. "What happened, baby?" You ask, pulling away to look at her face. Julia wipes her tears, looking up at you sadly.

"You don't know?" Her voice cracks. You tilt your head in confusion, waiting for her to elaborate. "Unless you're talking about dinner, I have no idea." You say. Julia sighs, looking down at her hands.

“Take your time. Don’t rush it.” You run your hair through her curls. She sighs deeply, closing her eyes before speaking. “While you were… away…” She smiles, and you laugh slightly. Julia always had a way of lightening the mood with humor, much like Nick. “Dad got upset. He… he had your boyfriend...”

Your heart sinks, knowing whatever comes out of her mouth could either be a gift, or a curse.

“Your boyfriend punched him… and then the one with the cool necklace pulled him off- and- and then dad came into the living room…” You feel her heart rate pick up as you pull her impossibly closer. You have no idea what’s coming next, and at this point, you don’t know if you want to. “Shhh, slow down.” You drag your hands through Julia’s hair, providing comfort for the both of you.

She takes a deep, shaky breath. “Dad, he yelled at Maya. And James came and stood in front of her. James wouldn’t move, and so Dad pushed him… and the blonde boy-Nick, I think- he hit Dad. And the man with the necklace had to hold him and Chris. Mom was crying, and Maya, too.” She breathes out. “She called the police… and Dad took the phone and told them that he was attacked.”

You nod slowly, anxiety growing deeper as you remember Chris’s bruised face, realizing that it looked worse than before. “I’m sorry.” Julia whispers so softly, you almost miss it. You shake your head and squeeze her tighter, if that was even possible.

“It’s not your fault, it’s never your fault. Do not blame yourself, it’s not your fault that you were born into this fucked up family. It’ll be okay, love.” You say. A comfortable silence falls between you two, the only thing being heard is her sniffles. You feel tears brim your eyes as you realize, Julia is a younger you. This was you only five years ago. This was you crying in Peter’s arms. This was YOU, praying for the yelling to stop, hoping your parents would come to their senses and just hug you. You were heartbroken that after all this time, nothing had changed. Your prayers were left unanswered, and your hope had dissipated over the years, slowly accepting the fact that your family was fucked, and there was nothing you could do to change it. After all this time, it was still the same. And you pray that it changes by the time Maya is 15.

The peace only lasts for a short moment (per usual), as loud screaming could be heard from downstairs. You both take a deep breath as you both stand up and go investigate. You take Julia’s hand in yours, pulling her behind you until you reach the bottom of the stairs. “Take Maya upstairs, keep her calm, she’s seen more than enough.”

“But-”

“It’ll be okay, Jules. Protect her, please. I’ll find James, and he’ll be up there soon.” You watch tears fill her eyes once more, before pulling her into a quick, heartfelt hug. You kiss her forehead before turning around and running outside. If the neighborhood didn’t know of your dysfunctional family, they sure as hell do now.

The scene outside is chaos. Nick is yelling at the top of his lungs, having to be held back by an officer and Matt. His screams are directed to your dad, who is on the ground, Chris on top of him, who also has officers attempting to hold him back. You knew Chris was strong, but you didn’t know he was able to hold off two officers, as well as still throwing punches at your dad.

All you can do is watch in shock, until you notice an officer reach for his taser. “WAI- '' your cut off by the sound of the prongs of the taser being released into the air, attaching themselves to Chris, eliciting a loud, strained groan from the boy. The groan held for a couple of seconds, until you hear Chris gasp for air, as his muscles relax.

“You stupid motherfucker! You’re tasing the wrong person! Maybe try tasing the abuser!” Nick hollers as you all watch Chris be put in handcuffs. “Get the fuck off of him!” Matt yells, leaving Nick’s side, moving quickly towards the officer, but he’s stopped before he can do anything stupid.

“Back the fuck up!” The officer shouts, pointing the taser at him. “I know you’re upset, but you need to calm the fuck down. Or else everybody’s going to jail.” Matt puts his hands up in defense, as he watches the other officer put your dad in cuffs. You scoff as you see your father putting on a face of fake innocence, one he’s been using for years, one you know all too well. Chris is put into the back of the cruiser, the officer getting into the driver's seat.

Nick isn’t yelling anymore, but he’s speaking passionately to the officer. You really commend the officers you were given this time around. Previous run-ins with law enforcement told you that they could either be real dicks, or the best people you’ve ever met, no in between. Matt had made his way over to you, hugging you tightly, as you started to come back to reality.

You don’t know when you started crying, but the tears fell regardless. Matt shushed you, just as Chris did earlier, accept this time, you were interrupted. “Hey, we need to talk to you guys,” a voice rings from behind you. You look up as Matt turns around to see one of the officers, with Nick behind him. You glance back into the house, seeing James, eyes wide with horror.

You looked at Matt. “Can you go with him, please? I gotta make sure Chr-” Matt cuts you off with a hug. “Of course, go handle your shit, I got ‘em.” You nod into his chest, before flashing James a weak smile. Matt turns around, leading James upstairs, presumably to find Jules and Maya.

You turn around, meeting the apologetic eyes of Nick, and the sympathetic gaze of the officer. You sigh, sitting down on the wooden steps. “What do you need to know?” you spoke out, starting to get a headache from tonight. You just want it to be over. You wished it was a bad dream..

“Listen, I know you’ve had a long night, so I’m gonna try and get out of your hair as soon as possible, especially because I know there’s kids inside.” The officer spoke kindly, something you didn’t expect. “I’m Officer Garroth, and I’ll just start off with some basic questions.”

You nodded, and answered the same questions you’d been asked many times before, once again reminding you of your childhood. “Okay, so what happened tonight?” you sigh deeply. “I’m not really sure. I remember an altercation with my dad and Chris at dinner, but after that, I have no idea.” Officer Garroth tilted his head, confused by your wording. You look at Nick, who nods, convincing you to continue speaking.

“My brain does this thing, that the second shit gets all wild, and like, aggressive, I just shut down. I don’t have any idea what’s going on around me, like my brain puts me in a little bubble.” You close your eyes and take a deep breath. “My therapist said it’s from all the past yelling and… all of this, at such a young age, it’s a coping mechanism.” You look up at the officer, who writes all of this down, careful not to miss anything.

“You said this has happened before?” He asked, pushing for more information. You nod. “So many times.” you whisper, licking your lips as you look down. He hums in response. “Alright, thank you. I’ll be back.” he said as he turned to walk away.

“Wait-” you say, cringing at your fragile voice, pathetically trying to gain volume. “Is he going to jail?” you weren’t 100% sure who you were referring to, your dad or your boyfriend. On one hand, you know that your dad should be imprisoned, for everything he’s done to your mom, for everything he’s said to your siblings, to you. But you also know how little control your mom actually has, and how hard it’d be for her to take care of three kids on her own. How little she’s actually done for any of you. She just stood back and watched as you and your siblings took the brunt of your fathers drunken, and sometimes sober, anger.

Chris, on the other hand, his anger was understood. His was warranted, you just wished he would have kept his cool, just a little longer. But you don’t blame him. Chris had grown up under the impression that family was everything, that when the whole world is seemingly against you, you’ve got your family behind you, to help you carry the burdens that weigh you down. But that’s not the case for everyone, 75% of families consider themselves dysfunctional. And Chris had just witnessed firsthand that you are a part of that percentage. It was overwhelming, and Chris had no idea someone so sweet, so caring, could come from people who didn’t give a shit at all.

Officer Garroth smiled sadly. “I’ll see what I can do. Hang tight.” he turned away and this time you let him walk away. You didn’t have any tears left, but you still felt like crying. What a fucking disaster. Nick put his hand on your shoulder, before pulling you into a hug. You melted into his arms, angry at him, angry at your mom, your dad, and even Chris.

“Why? Why couldn’t they just be normal.” You say, your voice muffled in Nick’s hoodie. He just holds you, shushing you occasionally. “It’s not your fault, love. A daughter shouldn’t have to beg their father for a relationship.” You laugh, tears starting to fall down your face. “Fuck you, I just stopped crying.”

Nick laughed, pulling away, wiping your tears. “Sorry, babes.” he shrugged. You shook your head, looking up towards the two police cruisers. “Home sweet home.” Nick leaned against you. You eye a black Camaro on the end of the street, the headlights off, but the car on. You go to say something, but before you can, you notice Officer Garroth coming towards you.

You instinctively sit up, Nick’s face furrows in confusion, but when he realizes who’s coming, he also sits up. You pray that Chrsi doesn’t go to jail, that your father isn’t that cruel to actually press charges.

“Alright, so I have good news and bad news. Unfortunately, there’s more bad than good.” he says. You nod. “What’s the good news?” Nick asks.

“Well, David is going to jail. Resisting arrest, and assaulting an officer. He could potentially gain more charges based on what you told me, as well as your mother, for child neglect.” You nod, not really knowing how to feel. You don’t care about them, not as much as you care about Chris at least. “What about Chris?” you ask.

Officer Garroth cleared his throat. “That’s the bad news. He’s probably also going to jail tonight. He did resist arrest. He also could be charged with assault and battery, but that’s highly unlikely, considering who he assaulted and why. If he gets a nice judge, those charges could easily be dropped.” Your heart drops with disappointment, you were hoping for something better than that. “How much would it be to bail him out, tonight?” You weren’t particularly fond of the idea of Chris spending the night in jail, and although he’d proven he could handle himself, jail was much different than fighting your girlfriend's abusive father.

“There's more bad news. He probably can’t be bailed out tonight, but you’d have to ask the county jail commissioner. And if he could be, it’s not cheap. 60 grand at least.” Your eyebrows raise as Nick gasps in surprise. “What the fuck? 60 grand for WHAT? 60k for him beating the fuck out of an abuser??” Nick spoke out. You put your hand on his shoulder, knowing the officer can’t do anything, and he’s just relaying information. Not that that’d stop Nick, he’d shot the messenger many times before, and he was afraid to do it again, whether that person was on law enforcement or not. Nick took a deep breath before looking down at his shoes. The poor boy was just as stressed as you, although you were used to this, desensitized to the adrenaline rush,

“Okay. Can I talk to Chris before you leave?” You ask, hopeful. The officer hesitates, but after considering the circumstances, he nods, walking you to the cruiser Chris is in the back of.

He unlocks the door, and you open it, making eye contact with Chris’s glossy blue eyes. “Baby.” his voice cracked as you leaned in and gave him a hug. He sniffled into your shoulder. “ ‘m so sorry. ‘m so fucking sorry, ma.” his voice muffled by your shirt, as you feel his tears soaking through it.

“It’s okay, baby, it’s okay. I know. You did what you thought was right.” You say, your voice cracking once again. Chris pulls away, looking you in your eyes. Your hands go up to cup his jaw, thumbs running over the bruises littered all over his face, leading down to the cut on his lip. He winces and you look at him apologetically.

“Are you okay?” Chris spoke out softly. You shake your head. “Not yet, but as soon as we get you outta here, I will be.” Chris nods, leaning his forehead against yours. You pull him into a passionate kiss, your hands still cupping his jaw. He sighs into the kiss, whining when you pull away. “God, I fucking love you.” he whispered.

“I love you, too, baby. How’s your back?” you say pulling away. “Electric.” He flashed you a toothy smile. You smile and roll your eyes. “Seriously. How are you feeling? Anything hurt too bad?”

He shakes his head. “Nah, it’s nothing, baby. Getting tased hurts like a bitch, though.” He said, looking towards the driver's seat, where the officer who tased him typed on a computer.

“Sorry, son, just business.” the officer spoke. You chuckled lightly, looking back at Chris. He was already looking at you, examining your features.

“You should get some sleep, ma. I know you're exhausted.” You shake your head. “I’m not sleeping tonight and you know that.”

“Alright, love birds, time is up. Sorry to break this up.” the officer from the front seat called. “The other cruiser just left, so it’s our turn.”

You sigh, kissing Chris once more. “We’ll be there as soon as they allow you visitors. I’ll do whatever I can to get you out.” Chris nods. “Don’t worry, ma. I got this. I’ll be alright.”

“You better. I can’t lose you, too.”

You nod, backing up, and before you close the door, you both exchange ‘I love yous’. You back up, letting the cruiser pull out of your driveway.

You back up into Nick’s arms, sighing deeply. “Where are we going to get 60 grand?” you speak out quietly. Nick breathes in. “I have no idea.”

Suddenly, an unfamiliar but familiar voice meets your ears. “I do.”

______________________________

@sturnioloblogs @y0urm4m @sturniolosmind @thenickgirl @muwapsturniolo @breeloveschris @worldlxvlys @freshloveforthefit @miloisdone1 @vanteguccir @annamcdonalds67 @freshsturns @rootbeerworshiper @matty-bear @orangelala @imwetforyourmom @stunnaagirllsworld @lanixsturniolo @blackhorses-posts @starsturns234 @junnniiieee07 @pepsiboyy @deadxrx @ribread03 @ariieeesworld @venusxsturnio @mattslovelygf @Spencereidismybitch @ablanstar333 @jjmaybankshousekeeping @Larnieboox88 @Preppy234 @endereies @eurphoric-rush

@kqyslyho3 @sstvrnioloo

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railingsofsorrow · 1 year ago

Text

(not so) stupid things

[spencer reid x reader]

A/N: hi! this is my entry for the CM meet cute challenge created by the amazing @imagining-in-the-margins

summary: the one where reader is a detective responsible for a case the FBI is called to work on and as they try to make a good first impression, it slips their mind that one of them does not shake hands.

or... based on the eighteenth episode of criminal minds' S8.

pairing: s.reid x gn!reader

w.c: 1.7K

warnings/content: anxiety (implied); case related violence; mentions of injuries and blood; mentions of needles; two awkward people (try) flirting; fluff; language.

navi

masterpost

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“The number of pathogens passed during a handshake is staggering. It's actually safer to kiss.”

“O-oh,” you stutter out, blinking in surprise and immediately drawing your hand back. How could you have forgotten this?

Your boss had told you some important information about the team you were going to work with: the Behavior Analysis Unit. It completely slipped your mind who the “Doctor who doesn't shake hands” was. You just vaguely knew Aaron Hotchner and David Rossi, but the rest was a bunch of strangers you hadn't connected the name to the face yet. That included the Doctor who was giving you a tight-lipped smile and had sputtered out the most quick statistics data you had ever heard.

Did he just said kissing is safer than shaking hands?

The blonde sighed, her glare towards Dr. Reid softening when she turns to you. She offers her hand and you take it with a light chuckle.

“That's just Spencer's way of saying he doesn't shake hands.” She clarifies. “I'm Jennifer Jareau, but you can call me JJ.” She introduced herself and then proceeds to do the same with the rest of the team. You finally connect the name to the face and you feel more at ease.

“Nice to meet you all,” you say. “I've prepared a room for you to set in during the investigation.” You lead them to the bigger roundtable room you had in the station and wait for them to scatter around to start listing the findings of the case you had until now.

They had a quick way of thinking – it was the first thought that went through your mind as you observed each Agent throw a possibility on why the crimes were happening and the reasoning for the M.O as well. It kind of amazed you how connected they seemed to be to have reached that adjustment within themselves.

The first lead took you to a museum. Your main goal there was to find anything on the suspect you've been following. That required you to speak to one of the museum tour guides who apparently had contact with them as you saw in one of the security cameras.

“How long have you been doing this?”

You immediately grimace at the invasive and completely inappropriate question that leaves your mouth. You couldn't help saying stupid shit when you were nervous. The FBI made you nervous. You had been chasing the suspect for more than three months and only now you were able to find a pattern in their behavior. Obviously, you weren't working alone, but you still feel dumb for not having noticed what is clearly obvious in federal agents’ eyes.

“Doing what?”

Your attention snaps back from the crowd of people to him, whose head was slightly tilted in confusion. The question you made escaping your mind for a second. “Oh. I— Actually. You don't have to answer that, I'm sorry.” Cheeks burning and hands sweating weren't a great combo right now. Your witness still hadn't stepped away from the group of children so you had to wait.

“It's okay.” He shrugs, burying his hands on his pockets. His eyes fall into your fidgety hands and he's familiarized with the feeling of being uncomfortable in big crowds. The museum was full, which was unusual according to you. “Mhm, did you mean how long have I been in the FBI?”

You hum quietly, arms folding across your chest.

“Seven years, five months and twenty-one days.” Your lips part in astonishment.

“Seven years?” You ask, dumbfounded. Spencer nods in affirmation. “You look like a college student—” you quickly cover your mouth with a hand, your cursing being muffled by it. “Sorry, I'm sorry. That came out wrong, I just meant that you look young and—”

“No, no, it's okay.” Spencer chuckled, amused by the whole thing. “I do get that a lot. Technically, I am a college student. I'm on my third PhD.”

Have you just met the next Einstein?

“How do you do it?” You say in wonder. “I mean, I went through college one time and I couldn't wait to get far from it as I possibly could and—” you were interrupted by the sound of his laugh, his eyes crinkling at the sides caused you to smile a little. You realize your shoulders were less tense and you could actually feel your feet again.

Spencer clears his throat before responding, his face carries a soft flush and you find it endearing. “I like studying.” Before you can ask him to elaborate, your eyes narrow at the tour guide, who you were supposed to talk to, stealthily disappearing into a hallway. This is how you end up running around a museum chasing someone that had just moved up to be the primer suspect in an ongoing investigation.

“You okay there?” Agent Morgan's voice pulled your gaze away from the medic stitching up your wrist.

Luckily, you and Doctor Reid succeeded in catching the museum tour guide, leading you to find out that the murders in the city were actually premeditated by two people, not just one. But that didn't go smoothly, the unsub — a curious name the BAU used, you've never heard it before — had a knife in their possession. Just as you were about to snatch it away from their reach while Spencer talked him down, your skin earned a slice right on your wrist because you were bold enough to tackle them to the floor.

Not a nice feeling, but you faced similar situations before, so that wasn't out of the ordinary. That didn't mean you enjoyed the feeling of being poked around.

“I'm fine,” you give him a grateful nod. “Just a scratch.” The image of the BAU's genius flash through your brain. “Huh, is Doctor Reid okay? I'm pretty sure he almost got one of these in his face.” You refer to your cut that was currently being dealt with.

Something that you can't recognize twinkle in the Agent's eyes. Amusement? Smugness? “Oh, Reid's alright. He's actually been asking non-stop about y—”

“Morgan.”

You see his smirk increase when Spencer strides over to where you are. The two share a look that you can't translate due to the tickling of the needle in your sensitive skin.

He's sitting beside you in no time and you're about to say that he doesn't have to bother, but he beats you to it.

“Up to 1 in 10 adults struggle with needles. 16% of them actually avoid getting vaccines because of their trypanophobia.” You look at Spencer as he inhales to keep rambling. “Studies show that many people grow out of that fear, but some remain with it.”

“Clearly,” you mumble, embarrassement causing your neck and cheeks to become red.

His eyes widen and he quickly raises his hands, “Oh, no! That's not what I— I didn't mean to—” he sighs as your lips try to hold back a smile. “I tend to say stupid things when I'm nervous.”

The medic says you're good to go and that's your cue to let out the breath you've been holding in instant relief as you can not longer see the needle. You thank them and step out of the ambulance.

“Like claiming that kissing someone is safer than shaking their hand?”

He stumbles upon an answer which takes you to a laughing fit that attracts some attention. You ignore the ugly looks in order to focus on a warm touch on your shoulder, stopping you from bumping into a police officer.

“Sorry, I was messing with you,” you say slightly breathless, your shoulder tingling where his hand lay. “I say stupid things when I'm nervous, too. I guess we have that in common.” Spencer is grinning when he pulls his hand back. You wonder what his thinking as his eyes travel across your features.

Maybe he's finally concluded that I'm a fool.

“Why would you be nervous?” You look away at a passerby to avoid his stare.

“Nothing, I—” he swallows, folding his arms and unfolding them right after. You don't need to be a profiler to realize he's nervous.

Your slow pace halts when he stops following you. You wait for him to sputter out random statistics or literally anything except for what he says next.

“Can I have your number?” He croaks out. “I thought that it wouldn't be unprofessional after the case was over because technically we aren't working anymore and— you know what? Never mind, forget I said—”

“Doctor Reid,” you say carefully. He clips his mouth shut. “Yes, you can have my number.” He lets out a soft oh and you smile. You ruffle through your pockets to find a pen and when you do find, you silently ask for his hand and he raises it towards you, confusion drawing his brows together.

He feels a tickling sensation as you write your number down on his open palm.

“There.” You offer him a smile to which he replies with one of his own as his eyes scan your scribbling on his hand. A vibration in your blazer forces a heavy sigh to leave your lips. You apologize as you grab your phone. “Ah, yes. I'm— I'll be there.” You turn to Spencer with a disappointed look after the call ends. “Sorry, I have a lot of reports to finish and they need me in the station.”

“It's okay.” He nods. “I understand.”

You don't leave right away though, hesitating in your step. He just as awkwardly stands there. Are you back in high school or something? When have you ever been that shy?

“So, I'll see you around?” You ask.

He outstretches a hand to your surprise, “Yes.” When you accept it, your fingers tingle at his soft skin. Both of you draw yourselves back at the same time. “Bye, Detective.”

You wave at him, already retracting to leave to avoid further embarrassment. “Bye, Doctor.”

You can't help the giddy feeling in your chest as you walk back to your car. A few hours later, your phone screen flashes with an unknown number.

#mentioningmargins #reader insert #criminal minds fanfiction #spencer reid fanfic #spencer reid x gn!reader #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid blurb

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c-m-stuff · 1 year ago

Text

Clingy

Spencer Reid x Female!Reader

-Description: You and Spencer are together. You've been the whole day clingy to Spencer, which the team noticed. And, they won't stop teasing you about it.

-Warnings: Fluffiness, language, horny, mention of smut

-Word count: 599

-Note: This is an idea from @mrs-ronnie-reid Thank you! Tag: @radiant-reid

Masterlist

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Y/N POV:

Hot. Yes, Spencer Reid was hot. I couldn't help, but felt a little horny today. The whole morning, I have been a little touchy to Spencer. I played with his hair, gave him many kisses, or hugged him for a while. Now, it was no different.

Everyone was filling in files, as it was paperwork today. I just finished another one, and stood up, to walk to Aaron his office. I gave it to him, and made my way back, as I stopped at Spencer's desk. I wrapped my arms around him, as I gave sweet kisses on his neck. Soft hums of content, escaped his mouth.

'Are you a little horny today, pretty girl?' I heard Derek say, from across his desk.

'Oh, shut up.' I chuckled, before placing a kiss on the genius his lips.

I made my way back to my desk, which was across from Spencer's. I tried to concentrate me on the work, but got easily distracted. He just sat there, licking his lips sometimes, as he was fully concentrated and thinking. I catch myself staring at the doctor in front of me, while I looked at him with full adoration and love.

Spencer noticed and glanced at me, smiling slightly, as I was biting my lip.

'Pretty girl, the work is on your desk. Not pretty boy.' Derek continued teasing, as my eyes finally found the muscular man.

I rolled my eyes, playfully, and went eventually back to work. At least, I tried to work.

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The day came to an end, while the whole team was walking out the elevators. They all were discussing to do something tonight.

'We can go to the bar.' Derek suggested.

'Or go to Rossi's house and play board games.' Emily said.

'Hey, my place is not a playground. And, I don't have a house, I have a mansion.' David teased, making everyone laugh.

'Dave, we all know, that you actually love it when we come over.' Aaron spoke, matter of fact.

'Are the two cuties also going to come?' Penelope asked, looking at Spencer and me.

'No, the two lovebirds are going to make love.' Derek chuckled, before we could answer her question.

'DEREK!' Spencer and I, yelled at the same time, causing everyone to chuckle.

'What? You've been clingy all day. I bet, that you are going home, and make love.'

'No, we're not!' I exclaimed.

'Actually, we're going to cuddle all night.' Spencer spoke, putting emphasis on the word "all".

'Love, don't say something, you can't finish.' I joked, making him smirk.

'Oh, I can finish, and make it last long.' I froze at his words in front of the team, making me wanting him more and more.

'We all can tell, that's the code word for they're going to do it.' Emily pointed out, as they laughed, everyone nodding in agreement.

'No, we're not-' I began, but stopped as I felt Spencer's lips on my neck.

'Oh whatever, we're going to fuck.' I admitted, and took his hand in mine.

'Again, and again, and again.' he said, teasingly.

'Spencer!' I playfully hit him on the chest, making him laugh.

'Bye guys, see you tomorrow.' I spoke to everyone, dragging my beautiful boyfriend with me.

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#criminal minds #cm #spencer reid #fanfic #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid x yn #spencer reid x fem!reader #fluff imagine

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ginnsbaker · 1 year ago

Text

In Losing Grip On Sinking Ships (15/22)

Chapter summary: You make a decision about Vision, the video, and your lingering feelings for your ex-wife

Chapter word count: 6.6K | Warnings: None | Ship: Wanda x Reader, Yelena x Reader

Author's note: If you decide to yell at me after this chapter, I guess this is a good time to tell you that I'm smol.

AO3 | Masterlist

Next chapter: Sixteen

Fifteen

Two sinners can't atone from a lone prayer - David Kushner "Daylight"

"Will you let me know once you figure out what you'll do?" Wanda asks, her voice wavering as remnants of dried tears cling to her cheeks, leaving faint trails in their wake.

You respond with a subdued sound of agreement, but deep down, you harbor doubts about your ability to follow through on your promise. The thumb drive still burns in your palm, and your clenched fist refuses to release it.

Alone in your apartment, hours after Yelena has departed for work, you find yourself replaying this memory time and again. Having taken the week off, your days are largely spent fixated on a particular file on your computer screen. That’s the last time you’ve heard from Wanda. Neither of you has made any effort to reach out since then.

“He recorded us having… having the affair.”

Your face involuntarily twists into a grimace of raw pain. Each breath feels heavier than the last, like you're dragging them from a place deep within you that you've been desperately trying to avoid. Your gaze remains fixated on the screen, eyes glassy, as if staring longer could somehow give you the answers you so crave.

A small, dark corner of your heart wishes you had gone further than just cracking Vision's skull with that vase, now knowing that he did more than violate a marriage.

You hover your mouse over the file.

"I’d take it all back if I could.”

Blinking rapidly, the strain in your smile grows more palpable, etching lines of tension across your face, until you’re gritting your teeth in an effort to maintain some form of control over your emotions.

But in the end, the tears well up and they spill over.

In the end, you can’t bring yourself to watch how Wanda chose to break your heart.

You delete the file from your computer, erasing any trace of the painful reminder. As you empty the trash bin, it feels like a symbolic act of letting go, even though the ache in your heart remains.

***

“Wanda? Did you hear what I just said?”

Wanda blinks, appearing slightly disoriented, as if she had been drifting away, coming back and forth to the present like a restless ghost. Calliope regards Wanda with a gentle caution, noticing that she appears different from her usual self this morning. There is a noticeable absence of her usual active engagement in conversation, with Wanda providing only succinct and dismissive replies to her questions.

“Hm?” Wanda's gaze focuses on Calliope, a flicker of apology crossing her features as she tucks a strand of hair behind her ear. “Sorry, could you repeat that? I... got distracted.”

“Wanda, I was asking about how you spent Y/N's birthday last week,” Calliope repeats with a soft smile.

Your birthday. It had been one of the best days in recent memory, a rarity considering the limited number of such occasions. And unfortunately, the joyous feeling it brought her was short-lived, lasting only two days before Yelena shattered the blissful bubble she was in.

"I, uh, baked her a cake, but it was more for my own enjoyment and for my customers,"

Wanda shares, and though her expression becomes slightly dreamy, it’s still tinged with despondency. “And then in the evening, we ran into each other by chance, and she treated me to dinner. All in all, it was better than I imagined."

“That sounds wonderful, Wanda,” Calliope says. "But how come you don't seem as happy about it now?"

“A lot has happened between then and now,” Wanda explains. “Her birthday isn’t the last time we saw each other. It’s actually just three days ago, and we, uh, didn’t exactly end that meeting on a good note.”

The only indication that Calliope looks slightly concerned is the eleven that appears in between her brows. Otherwise, her face remains soft and void of tension. “Can you tell me more, Wanda? But of course, only if you’re comfortable to share them.”

Wanda takes a moment to weigh her options. On one hand, there is legal information that she would need to disclose, but on the other hand, she can sense the possibility of her spiraling down if she keeps these things to herself. Ultimately, she decides to place her trust in her therapist and rely on the foundation they have built together, telling Calliope everything. She begins by recounting Yelena's visit and the subsequent confrontation with Vision. Then, with regret she describes the following morning when she visited you to give you an option to fight Vision back another way.

Calliope listens attentively, and though she usually maintains a professional demeanor throughout these sessions with her clients, she couldn’t help but inwardly sigh in relief that Wanda chose to talk to her about the crucial week she’s had.

There are at least a dozen emotional and mental implications for someone who had gone through what Wanda did in the recent days. As someone who lives and breathes science, Calliope doesn’t believe in good or bad luck, but this is one of those rare occurrences that she’s handling someone who’s gone and continues to go through a multitude of life-changing storms in just a year. Wanda's resilience is a force to be reckoned with, refusing to bow to the hardships she constantly faces.

“It must be beyond overwhelming to be confronted with such things at the same time,” Calliope says. She retrieves a pad and a pen from her desk and looks up at Wanda. “Do you mind if I write some of these things down? So we can go over them one step at a time?”

Wanda gives her a short nod, placing her complete trust on her therapist. Calliope proceeds to write on the pad and then suddenly, she stops and looks up at Wanda who’s chewing on her lip.

“When you learned that Vision filmed your trysts without your consent, how did that make you feel?”

Wanda feels the familiar coil of anger tighten in her stomach at the mere mention of his name.

Her response slips out slowly. “Violated. I–I know I’m half of that affair, and I have no right to feel like a victim–”

“Wanda,” Calliope quickly cuts her line of thought, dispelling right away the notion that just because she agreed to something, she agreed to everything. Even though the sex was consensual, the act of recording it without consent was a violation of trust and not to mention, a breach of the law.

“Your role in the affair does not negate the fact that you can still feel violated by this type of invasion to your privacy. You have the right to acknowledge your own feelings and experiences, separate from the affair itself." Calliope tells her.

Wanda presses her fingertips against her temple for a few seconds. “I feel like a victim to my own stupid decisions. I’m angry at Vision, but mostly I–I’m angry with myself.”

“Blaming yourself may be a natural response, but the responsibility for the violation lies with Vision. It's not a reflection of your worth or intelligence. You trusted him that time, and he betrayed that trust.” Calliope says.

Wanda is silent. It’s been a long time since she felt like none of Calliope’s words make sense. None could make her feel better at the moment.

Sensing that she’s not getting through to her, Calliope continues, “You don’t have to believe me right now. All of it is new, and you can take as much time as you need to face your feelings.”

"You know what else troubles me the most? I find it very difficult to reconcile myself with the married woman who slept with a kid all those times. Who is she, Calliope? And by asking this, I'm not trying to absolve myself of responsibility because she was me, but I simply can't comprehend how I allowed it to happen. If you were to ask me now why I entered into that affair, I honestly wouldn't have an answer for you.”

Calliope nods in understanding. It's not unusual for individuals to struggle with recognizing the person they used to be, even if it was just a year ago or even a week ago. Personal growth and experiences can drastically change people’s perspectives and actions, often leading them to question their past choices.

“We are always changing. You're a different person today than you were yesterday, even if the change isn’t that significant. There’s always something in us that’s changing, progressing, growing.”

“Why couldn’t I have grown back then,” Wanda mumbles in regret. I should’ve been able to prevent it. Things would have gone differently.

Calliope smiles, understanding Wanda's inclination to obsess over what could have been. “We only realize what's wrong within us when the signs become apparent, like having a fever. A doctor wouldn't say you're sick with a fever alone; it's just a symptom. There's an underlying cause. But the fever serves as an important indicator that your body needs treatment.”

Wanda sighs; she can’t think of any argument to that. “Maybe you’re right.”

And as she replays the memories of that day in her mind, a sudden realization strikes Wanda. There was a vivid detail from her conversation with Yelena that she had almost forgotten.

“Yelena said something,” Wanda begins, her fingers idly toying with the wedding band now adorning her necklace. “Something about Y/N not being completely hers.”

“Go on,” Calliope encourages.

“Do you think she was indirectly telling me that Y/N still has feelings for me?” Wanda's voice is tinged with uncertainty, yet her eyes shimmer with hope.

“Interpreting someone else's words can be subjective," Calliope says. “I want to be honest with you, Wanda–it’s always best not to read too much into it. Yelena's perception of the situation differs from your own, and her words might not necessarily reflect the true feelings or intentions of Y/N.”

Wanda's hopeful expression wavers slightly, a hint of disappointment flickering across her face. She nods, understanding the need to approach the situation with caution.

“I know it's easier said than done. Believe me, I struggle with it too, sometimes…” Calliope trails off as if reminiscing her own experiences, before continuing, “But whether or not Y/N still has feelings for you, your well-being should remain a priority. Overthinking and making assumptions can be detrimental to our happiness.”

Happiness. It’s elusive, and she wants nothing more than to hold onto it longer than a fleeting moment.

***

“Are you certain about this? Once we send this letter to his attorney, it cannot be retracted,” your lawyer states as she neatly organizes the pages of the counter demand letter into a folder.

“And if they agree to the terms, will it finally be over?” you inquire, seeking reassurance.

“Yes. I have drafted every clause to safeguard you from any future legal actions regarding the same matter,” she assures.

You take a moment to process the information before a new concern arises. “You mean, he won't be able to sue me in the future if he decides that $800,000 isn't enough?”

“No,” she says with a confident smirk. “If he does that you can sue him for double the amount.”

“That’s quite impressive.”

“It's what you hired me for,” she replies with a hint of pride.

After your lawyer leaves, you pick up your phone and dial Natasha's number. The ringing persists until a recorded voice message greets you.

“Hey, Nat? It’s me. Uh, when you get this call can you please call me back? I–” Your voice breaks, and you close your eyes, envisioning Natasha's stoic expression as she listens to your message. This silence between you is uncharacteristic, as you have never gone this long without talking to each other except when she's working. It pains you to realize the strain in one of the most important relationships in your life right now.

“I’m sorry, okay? I hope we can talk soon and I’ll explain everything. Please, Nat,” you say. “I don’t think I can handle losing you.”

***

“It’s a send off party for those who are racing the New York City Marathon this year.” you explain to Yelena as you stuff your socks into a duffel bag.

Since joining Valkyrie's running club, you have mainly trained alone, only joining the group for runs on two occasions. However, you've come to realize the benefits of running with others who are faster than you. It pushes you to increase your pace during tempo runs and has led to a faster rate of improvement in your performance. Wanda has chosen not to join the weekday runs with the club, and you secretly appreciate the opportunity to focus solely on running and enjoying the company of other people. Wanda never fails to catch at least some of your attention. It’s one of your more serious flaws.

“Yeah, I get that it's a party,” Yelena mutters, gathering toiletries from the bathroom to pack in her own bag. “What I don't understand is why the party is being held at a park.”

“You know athletes–we need some form of activity first before we drink the booze and eat the cake.” you say.

Yelena wrinkles her nose. That doesn’t sound like the parties she’s familiar with and knows how to enjoy.

“When’s the NYC Marathon anyway?” Yelena asks.

“It’s this Sunday,” you reply, organizing the items on your packing list. You realize that among all the things you need to bring, a pair of shoes and sunblock are the only essentials. The rest are optional.

“Are you running in it?”

“Nope. I wasn’t picked in the lottery.” you say.

Yelena's expression shifts to one of surprise. "There’s a lottery?" she exclaims, clearly unaware of the selection process. The idea of so many people willingly participating–and paying–to tire themselves out is baffling to her. Yelena tried jogging one time and only thought of it as a grueling experience. So this interesting trivia about marathons just leads her to the conclusion that people must truly have a fondness for pain and suffering.

That causes a laugh to bubble up your throat. "If you don't feel like coming, it's completely fine."

Initially, you hadn't planned for Yelena to join you, but since she expressed a desire to spend the day with you on her day off, you casually suggested she could come as your plus one. And since you knew how she felt about the sport that you do, you assumed she’d turn you down.

“How about we just stay in?” Yelena mumbles, wriggling her eyebrows in suggestion, making you laugh harder. “You know… Netflix, and the other thing.”

“As tempting as that sounds,” you reply, still chuckling, “I can't. I'm responsible for bringing a damn good apple pie for the potluck. People are expecting it.”

Yelena pouts playfully, feigning disappointment. “Well, I guess I'll have to settle for cheering you on then. Just make sure that apple pie is worth it.”

“I'll do my best. And hey, there's always Netflix and 'the other thing' waiting for us when we get back.” you say.

Yelena grins, satisfied with the compromise. “Deal.”

***

As you and Yelena arrive at The Great Lawn in Central Park, the sight of tables and chairs being set up in preparation for the event greets you. Shaun, the closest friend you made from the running group, approaches you, dressed in a similar fashion of running shorts over a base layer, dri-fit shirt and the latest Alphafly. Introductions are made, and Shaun takes the dessert from your hands, ushering you and Yelena to a table near the spread of food and drinks.

Yelena makes a quick remark about feeling a bit overdressed for the occasion, but you dismiss her concerns with a smile, complimenting her appearance, which prompts her to lean in and give you a long, tender kiss.

A kiss that your ex-wife witnessed as you catch her looking at you and Yelena from afar when you open your eyes at the end of it.

You’re unable to hide the look of surprise from your face because you weren��t expecting Wanda at this party. While everyone else confirmed their attendance, Wanda remained quiet, never participating in the conversations. Had you known Wanda would be here, you wouldn't have invited Yelena.

Yelena follows your line of sight, and then seeing Wanda, mirrors your surprised expression.

“Why is she here?” she asks, her voice holding a hint of accusation though she tried to hide it.

“I... don't know,” you mumble absentmindedly as your attention is drawn to the person Wanda arrived with.

Valkyrie.

“And why didn’t you tell me that Wanda also belongs in the same running group?”

You shift your focus back to Yelena as Wanda and Valkyrie engage with the other runners, their presence quickly absorbed into the conversations and exchanges happening around them.

“I honestly didn't think it was important to mention,” you admit. “Wanda hasn't been actively involved in the group–she never joins our runs.”

Yelena raises an eyebrow, and says, “Well, I think it's worth mentioning.”

“You’re right, I’m sorry. I didn’t know she was coming today. We all confirmed in the group chat and she never said anything.” you say.

“I get it, just remember, be open with me, especially about her,” Yelena says, her face softening. “I don't want to be 'that' girlfriend, but trust takes time. You not telling me the whole story about her doesn't help.”

“I'm sorry. It won't happen again,” you promise.

Yelena nods, pulling you in for another kiss. This one feels more intense, more insistent. Just as Yelena's tongue finds its way into your mouth, Wanda happens to glance your way. The sight causes her to promptly look away.

As Yelena's lips leave yours and she steps back, Valkyrie saunters over, her hands nonchalantly tucked into the pockets of her vest, a cheeky grin playing on her lips.

“Glad to see you again, Y/N,” Valkyrie greets, her gaze shifting to Yelena. “Who's this?”

You offer Valkyrie a tight smile and proceed to introduce Yelena as your girlfriend. Valkyrie extends her hand to Yelena, their handshake lingering a moment longer than necessary, with Valkyrie's thumb softly brushing the back of Yelena's hand before letting go. And then she excuses herself, winking at you both as she returns to Wanda’s side.

It might just be your intense dislike of this woman, but you can't help but worry about Wanda trusting someone who evidently likes to flirt.

As you slide an arm around Yelena, you both find a quieter spot, away from the buzz.

“You don't seem too thrilled about her,” Yelena notes.

With a small scoff, you try to dismiss it. “Valkyrie?”

"Yeah. Right there, when you say her name... It's like you'd rather jump off a cliff," Yelena remarks, noticing your disdain.

“She's just... too full of herself for my liking.”

Yelena gives you a knowing look. “You sure it's not because she showed up with–”

“Of course not,” you retort, a bit too quickly. Feeling the conversation veer into uncomfortable territory, you quickly reroute. “There's beer in the cooler, want one?”

Yelena is momentarily taken aback by the sudden shift, but she nods and replies, “Sure.”

They decide on a casual game of Ultimate Frisbee, as suggested by Valkyrie.

You find yourself on one team, while Valkyrie stands on the opposing side. In the sidelines, are your ex-wife and your girlfriend, both seemingly enthralled by the competition that’s about to unfold. You've never played this game before, but Shaun takes the time to show you the ropes of throwing a frisbee with a backhand and a forehand. He explains the rules, which turn out to be fairly easy to understand, given their similarity to soccer. The objective is to get the disc to the other side of the field and avoid turnovers.

The frisbee soars through the air, hurled by none other than Valkyrie to signal the start of the game. Adrenaline courses through your veins, as a fierce determination fueled by the seemingly permanent smirk on Valkyrie’s face propels you forward.

With every throw and catch, you channel your frustrations into the game. It's no longer just about Valkyrie, but also about Vision and the money he managed to extort from you. It's about Wanda and how closely she's watching your every move with something akin to regret and longing in her wide, green eyes. It's about the video you chose not to watch, yet its very existence continues to haunt you.

Valkyrie, agile and naturally athletic, matches your intensity on the field. Each time she catches the frisbee, you feel a surge of anger ignite within you. It's as if every point she scores is a personal affront to your pride. You relentlessly pursue her with a goal in mind to outmatch her every move.

The crowd cheers and gasps with each spectacular play. Wanda's eyes lock with yours, her expression caught between concern and admiration, and you return her gaze with a look of spite as you try to block the movements of the person you’re guarding.

In a pivotal moment, Valkyrie sprints toward the end zone as the disc flies in the similar direction. Taking this window of opportunity, you charge after her, consumed by a desire to tackle her to the ground.

With a surge of strength, you lunge forward with an aim to bring her down.

But fate has a different plan.

In the chaotic collision that ensues, you crash into Valkyrie with all your might. But the strong and sturdy body she’s paraded around for weeks proves to be impenetrable. As the dust settles, you find yourself sprawled on the ground, nursing a deep gash on your elbow. Valkyrie, remarkably unscathed, stands tall, a defiant smirk on her face.

Both Yelena and Wanda rush to your aid, much to your chagrin.

“What the hell was that?” Yelena yells as she leans over you with worry.

Wanda, keeping a cautious distance, chimes in, “Y/N, are you okay?”

Valkyrie, offering you a hand to help you up, dismisses the incident casually. “Oh, she's fine. It happens often in these games.”

Reluctantly, you reach out and steady yourself on Valkyrie's arm, disliking the fact you need her help in that moment. You take a couple of steps back from Valkyrie as soon as you find your footing and grab Yelena’s hand, giving it a reassuring squeeze.

“I’m okay,” you tell Yelena.

"You're bleeding," Wanda points out, eyes fixed on the wound on your elbow.

“It’s just a small scratch,” you argue, even as the blood drips from your skin and onto the grass.

“Sorry, but it's a general rule to sub out a wounded soldier,” Valkyrie cuts in.

You sneer inwardly at Valkyrie’s flowery choice of words.

“Come on, babe. I'll help you clean that up,” Yelena says, placing a hand on your lower back as she leads you back to the sidelines.

“I’ll get the first aid kit.” Wanda says. Yelena looks at Wanda over her shoulder and you hold your breath, anticipating their exchange. But your girlfriend simply offers your ex-wife a small smile and thanks her.

The night approaches rather quickly after the game.

Everybody helps pack up the picnic spread before the sun sets, as the group collectively agrees to move the party to a pub that Valkyrie claims she managed to reserve at the last minute. The bar she picked is also unbelievably convenient, only being a few minutes away from the park by foot. So, now, everyone looks at Valkyrie with a sense of awe, seeing how effortlessly she can organize a good time. You remain skeptical, however, suspicious that she’s planned everything in advance.

“This Valkyrie–is she some kind of socialite?” Yelena wonders aloud as the two of you enter the bar. Taking in its classy interior, you can tell almost immediately that reserving the entire area must have come at a hefty price.

You shrug in reply, walking straight to the bar to order a double right away.

Valkyrie hasn’t left Wanda’s side all day after the game. Your only interaction with Wanda so far was when she returned to where you and Yelena sat as your girlfriend tended to your wound. Although she didn't utter a word, a small smile graced her face as she handed the first aid kit to Yelena.

“Are you okay?” Yelena asks, rubbing your shoulder, trying to ease the tension she finds there.

“Just tired,” you answer, knocking down your drink.

“May I have everyone's attention, please?” Valkyrie's voice cuts through the blaring music, drawing everyone’s attention towards her.

“I'd like to take a moment to express my gratitude to each and every one of you for joining us at this event. Your presence is invaluable, and it greatly contributes to the success of this gathering,” she states, and you stifle the urge to roll your eyes. Valkyrie lifts her beer can, prompting everyone else to raise their drinks in unison. “Here's to our courageous participants of this Sunday's NYC Marathon. May you conquer the finish line with strength and surpass your own expectations. Cheers!”

With the toast complete, the assembled crowd joins in, raising their glasses and cheerfully clinking them together. Just like that, the party that Yelena is more amenable to officially begins.

Yelena mingles with the group of people who have come to support their partners' interests, all sharing a similar confusion about the appeal of waking up early to cover long distances that, typically, should not be covered by foot. You relax at seeing her chat with them animatedly, looking like she’s enjoying herself so far.

With Yelena occupied, you allow yourself a moment to sulk in a corner of the bar. As you look around the room, you can't help but think about how your lawyer hasn't given you any updates about the counter demand letter. You think about Natasha, who still hasn’t called you back. It makes you feel uneasy, not knowing where things stand.

You try not to think about Wanda, who currently has her head thrown back, laughing at something Valkyrie said. It strikes you that you haven't seen her so carefree in quite some time.

“Hey,” Yelena taps you on the shoulder, pulling you out of your thoughts. "Me and some of the girls want to go check out this band playing a couple of blocks away. It won't take long, just a few songs. Is that alright with you?"

“Sure,” you respond. “I'll be ready to leave when you get back.”

“Great,” Yelena replies, giving you a quick kiss on the cheek. “See you later.”

You observe Yelena as she happily leaves the venue with her new friends, while you catch the bartender's attention and order another drink.

An hour passes by swiftly, and there is still no sign of Yelena or any message from her. You take a break from alcohol and sip on water, trying to sober up in case Yelena gets back. Shaun tries to engage you in a conversation about World Marathon Majors and his aspirations to qualify for Boston, but your lack of interest is evident, and he eventually excuses himself to join Valkyrie's group. You notice that they are now playing a drinking game, and Wanda receives a shot glass from Valkyrie.

“Truth or drink, Wanda?” Valkyrie teases, hovering a bit too near Wanda for your comfort.

“Truth,” Wanda responds.

“Got anyone you're into at the moment?”

A laugh escapes Wanda, followed by a nervous gulp. “Actually, I think I'll take that drink,” she deflects.

Valkyrie's expression drops, clearly let down by the missed chance to pry into Wanda's love life.

“Since you dodged the truth, you're up for two shots,” she announces, her lips curled into a roguish smile. Wanda obediently follows, and you observe her wince as she slams back the tequila shots. A delicate flush on her cheeks hints that this isn't their first round.

You remain an onlooker as a series of questions are effortlessly answered by various individuals until Wanda is in the hot seat once again.

“Can I pass? I think I've had enough.” Wanda says.

“Oh, don't quit on me now. We're just warming up.”

Wanda offers a weak smile, then capitulates, “Alright. Just one more round, okay? Uhm, truth.”

Someone from the group throws the question. “Have you ever cheated on someone?”

Wanda's smile evaporates almost immediately. She forces a feeble laugh as she once again backtracks from her initial selection. Her gaze flickers towards you before darting back to Valkyrie, finding you already watching her closely.

“I think I want to drink for this one,” Wanda declares, going ahead to down two more shots in line with the game rules. The group cheers her on while Valkyrie, laughing, refills the emptied shot glasses.

Valkyrie finds herself intrigued. Wanda could've simply said 'no' if she hasn’t. She only becomes more fascinating in Valkyrie’s eyes knowing that she’s not as saintly as she looks.

The game continues, everyone takes their turn and it lands on Wanda once more. This time, she dismisses the drink pushed towards her. “I really should pass this time.” Wanda says.

Yet Valkyrie keeps pushing the drink towards Wanda, seemingly blind to her discomfort. Seeing this, you feel the urge to step in.

“She said no. Didn't you catch that?” you squeeze yourself in between Shaun and another girl who looks stunned at your sudden interjection. “Because I could hear her just fine from way over there,” you add, thumbing back at your former spot, some distance away.

“Chill out, we're just having a good time.” Valkyrie shrugs.

“Fucking respect her boundaries, okay? She’s had enough. And she has good reasons to avoid it, trust me.” you assert, your eyes narrowing slightly as you emphasize your point.

Almost immediately, Wanda stands, her lips clenched and her face flushed with annoyance.

“I’m gonna go get some air,” Wanda says to no one in particular.

“Need me to come along?”

“Just stay here, Val, okay?” Wanda interjects, her voice softer as she deftly maneuvers past you.

Your heartbeat quickens as you trail after her.

“Wanda, wait!” you shout, pushing through the crowd.

She pays no heed, her steps resounding heavily as she marches on. Her shoulders are stiff, her movements terse. You can almost sense the anger radiating off her like a dark halo. Chasing after her, you weave through the throng of nosy people who are all looking at you openly, as they watch the commotion continue to unfold before their eyes.

A second later, the door shuts behind you, effectively muffling the music from inside.

Wanda has made it a good distance from the pub, her silhouette illuminated by the soft glow of the moon.

“Wanda!” you call out again, your voice softer this time, carrying a note of desperate concern.

At your call, she finally stops.

She stands frozen for a moment before turning to face you. Her face, usually so tender and kind, is etched with an unusual hardness now.

“Why did you do that?” she asks, her tone unexpectedly steady.

“What are you talking about? It was clear she was pushing you into drinking more than you wanted. I simply backed you up there–for which, by the way, some gratitude wouldn't hurt,” you snap back, irritation seeping into your tone.

Wanda's empty laughter rings out in the quiet night. “You practically just implied to everyone that I have a drinking problem!”

“Don't you?” you hiss through a sneer. “I remember getting a call from the person you cheated on me with because you were almost passed out on the street after a night of excessive drinking.”

Wanda visibly flinches, her body recoiling as though she’s just been slapped. The instant your words escape your lips, remorse floods over you, your chest heaving as you catch your breath. Watching the shock on Wanda’s face slowly shift into a profound sadness only deepens your regret.

“Wanda–”

"Thank you... for standing up for me earlier. Good night, Y/N." she murmurs, her voice barely above a whisper. With those words, she turns her back on you and starts to walk away.

You think about stopping her, but you’re too ashamed of yourself to do anything.

For the next few minutes you just stare at the spot where Wanda stood, haunted by the look of hurt on her face. In the distance, Yelena’s unmistakable voice reaches your ears, signaling her return.

‘Hey, baby!” she slurs, elongating the final syllable, leaving no doubt in your mind that she's drunk.

You approach Yelena, keeping your steps hushed, while she bids farewell to her companions.

“Ready to head home?” you ask in a calm voice.

Yelena's face lights up with enthusiasm as she eagerly nods. Taking her hand into yours, you signal a passing cab.

Later, a little before midnight, your pretense of sleep is broken by the piercing ring of your phone. The truth is, you haven't slept a wink, instead lying still with eyes closed, the happenings of the day replaying ceaselessly in your mind. You pick up the call immediately, taking care not to disturb Yelena's peaceful slumber beside you.

“Y/N?” Wanda's voice comes through the phone, quaking with fear. “I came home and there's… there’s sick all over. Sparky... he's…” Her words fragment into inconsolable sobbing.

“Hey, hey. Just stay calm, okay? I'm on my way," you reassure her before ending the call. You turn to Yelena, sprawled unconscious on the bed. With delicate motions, you snugly wrap the comforter around her and carefully place a pillow under her arm that was previously draped over you. You plant a kiss on her temple before dressing up quickly to meet Wanda.

Around 1:30 in the morning, the veterinarian steps out of the examination room to announce that Sparky is now stable. Wanda's eyes are puffy and bloodshot from crying, but she pays careful attention to the doctor’s report on Sparky’s condition. The situation was critical, but thankfully, Sparky has rallied, his vital signs settling back into normal ranges. Despite this, the vet recommends keeping him under observation for an additional 48 hours to ensure his continued recovery.

You settle the bill out of your own credit card and escort a grief-stricken Wanda back to her apartment. You instruct her to get comfortable on the couch as you move around the kitchen and prepare yourselves a cup of tea. As you re-enter the living room, you notice Wanda remains in the same position, her gaze fixed on Sparky's dog bowl, a few kibbles still left untouched.

“Do you remember when Sparky first became a part of our lives?” Wanda asks suddenly.

You nod solemnly, settling down beside Wanda as you hand her her tea. She accepts it gratefully, cradling it in her hands to soak in its comforting warmth.

“It was on your 25th birthday, and he was my surprise gift for you,” you recall with a hint of nostalgia.

“Your sneaky way of adopting him without telling me,” Wanda retorts, finally managing a small smile.

The fond memory brings a soft chuckle to your lips. Wanda had never been keen on having a pet, especially in your small Manhattan apartment. But Sparky quickly won her over within just a couple of days. She would serenade him with renditions of "You Are My Sunshine" every day for a week, until she eventually grew tired of the song and moved on to another tune to sing to him.

“I always knew that we would outlive him. But it's just too soon,” Wanda sniffles, new tears welling up in her eyes. “He deserves more years. I want him to stay with us for as long as a dog possibly can.”

“Me too,” you sigh.

Before you know it, you’re gathering Wanda into your arms. She instinctively nestles her face into the crook of your neck, tears dampening your skin. Your hand gently rubs soothing circles on her back, while your other hand softly strokes her hair. In a hushed voice, you whisper reassurances, telling her that everything will eventually be alright.

When Wanda’s trembling subsides, you feel her shift in your arms. And as you begin to lean your head back from where it’s resting on her shoulder, a magnetic force seems to hold you in place, and you find yourself unable to completely let go. Your forehead ends up resting against hers, watching her calm face in silence. Her eyes stay closed a bit longer, and when they eventually flutter open, you're captivated by the most perfect shade of green, and in that moment it becomes perfectly clear to you that you love her and you never stopped.

Not even then.

A hint of worry appears in Wanda’s deep, emerald eyes as she meets yours. “Y/N–” she starts.

But her words get lost as your nose delicately grazes against hers, and your lips find hers in a clandestine kiss.

She responds to your kiss instinctively, and you merge in a manner that's both wonderfully familiar and refreshingly new. Your fingers trace a soft path across her neck before firmly cradling it, eliciting shivers that ripple through Wanda, right to her core.

The need for breath brings an end to the kiss, and you part from Wanda's lip with a slight wet sound. You take in as much air as you can, ready to lean in once more. But before your lips can meet hers again, she gently places a hand on your chest, giving you a gentle push.

“This... this isn't right,” Wanda stammers, pulling herself back from you. The spot on her neck where your hand rested is warm, the embers of your touch still smoldering as she tries to extinguish the fire you had sparked within her. “We can’t do this to Yelena.”

“Wanda, I–”

“You’re better than me,” she reminds you. “I’m sorry.”

It feels as if you're being jolted awake from a surreal dream, and you instinctively distance yourself from Wanda. Her eyes, filled with worry, attempt to meet yours, but you evade her gaze, the gravity of your actions slowly sinking in.

In a heartbeat, you find yourself bolting from her apartment, your feet pounding the pavement beneath as if trying to outrun the harsh reality of what you’ve done. You just betrayed Yelena. You'd just kissed Wanda. And you don’t know what was more frightening: your actions, or the fact that part of you didn't regret it.

In the waning hours before dawn, sleep proves stubbornly out of reach. The lingering taste of Wanda's kiss and the guilt eating at your conscience keeps slumber at bay. You had done to Yelena the very thing that ruined your life. You spent these hours looking at Yelena’s sleeping face, knowing that this may very well be the last few hours you get to be this close to her.

And just as your eyelids begin to droop, Yelena stirs, slowly waking up.

Yelena hums as she stretches like a cat, and then blinks up at you, a smile already working its way to her lips. Your heart is ringing loudly in your ears by now, making it impossible for you to mirror the delight on your girlfriend's face.

“Hey, is something wrong?” Yelena asks, concern creasing her forehead as her hand lifts to cup your cheek.

“Yelena, I–” Your gaze drops, focusing on the unforgiving reality of the mattress beneath you, avoiding her piercing eyes as you muster the courage to confess. “I… I relapsed–”

“Don’t,” Yelena's voice cuts through your racing thoughts, her intuition already piecing together your next words. "Don't say it."

The silence that looms over your heads is oppressive and suffocating.

“This has gone on for long enough,” Yelena finally declares, her tone resolute. “I have to go.”

“Wait, Yelena–” you stutter, your mind scrambling to string together a sequence of words that might lessen the blow of your betrayal. “Where will you go?”

“Somewhere far away from you,” she replies, her words carrying a frosty undertone.

It stings. And you deserve it.

With that, she gets up and leaves the room, leaving you to the wreckage.

#wanda maximoff x reader #wanda maximoff imagine #wanda maximoff x you #wanda x you #wanda maximoff #ifiss 2 #ilgoss #yelena belova x reader #yelena belova #unbetad #my writing #my fic #elizabeth olsen x reader #elizabeth olsen #wanda maximoff fanfiction

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violetrainbow412-blog · 1 year ago

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Day 31: halloween costumes

Masterlist flufftober 🎀

First I want to thank all the people who followed this during the month, I honestly never thought I would be able to join this kind of events, and I am very happy with the reception that each work received, you are incredible and made my days the best! I Hope this last one is to your liking, I send you a hug wherever you are

Deciding on an individual costume is already difficult, so you weren't surprised when you realized that a couple costume involved a bigger concern.

Halloween had finally arrived and you had practically begged Spencer to find a couple's costume for the party the FBI was hosting, something not really official, but with most of the agents, at the bar your friend David Rossi had chosen.

“Any suggestions for our outfit?” you had asked the man, once you convinced him to match his costume with yours.

Spencer thought about it for a while and although many of the options he gave you sounded excellent, there was the detail of the short time you had to get things or the disadvantage that few people would be able to recognize the theme of your costume.

“It has to be something practical and known,” you had murmured, when both of you were sitting on the couch at dinner time and a children's channel filled the void in the room.

Until, watching TV, you finally figured it out: you had the perfect option right in front of your eyes and you never saw it.

So it was that on the night of the 31st, quite happy and satisfied with the choice you made, you drove to the place and let him behave like a gentleman by opening the car door for you.

“Are you sure I look good?”

“You've never looked more handsome” you smiled at him, trying to calm his anxiety, while both of you walked hand in hand towards the entrance.

You didn't have to wait long to see your friends and, as you expected, they were comically surprised at you.

“No way…” Morgan had laughed, looking at you up and down. “Pretty boy in bell-bottoms? Now that's something I didn't think I'd see."

Shaggy and Velma from Scooby Doo. That was you two.

It was true that Spencer was wearing brown bell-bottom pants that you had gotten at a thrift store. You also searched your closet and luckily found a v-neck shirt in the perfect color. Unfortunately, your boyfriend had recently cut his hair and you wished you had thought about the costume more in advance so he could show off his long locks just like the animated character.

You had bought a few things from your all-orange outfit, but the bonus with you was that you could wear them later. When Spencer saw you, he was stunned and didn't waste the opportunity to compliment you extensively.

“What can we tell you? They solve mysteries and catch monsters, it's almost like our job”

"How nice!" murmured JJ, who had just arrived accompanied by her husband Will. Both of them were dressed as vampires “I loved Scooby Doo when I was a kid. My favorite was always Daphne.”

“I don't know why that doesn't surprise me,” joked Emily, who was dressed as the bride of Frankenstein's monster and drank from a glass with an unknown concoction.

“You should have told us and we could have done a group costume,” she smiled, while she looked at Will, hinting that they could have been the other couple on the show.

"Clear. You Daphne, him Fred and Morgan would have been the dog”

A collective laugh filled the place where even Derek, the affected one, smiled while he pointed a finger at you.

“Guess who was my favorite,” you murmured, a little more to your boyfriend than the others.

“Huh, Velma?”

“It was Shaggy!” you replied amused, while you took his arm to plant a kiss on his cheek.

“Reid looks a little like Velma if you think about it. You know, with all those facts and statistics and they're the damn nerd of the group”

Spencer blushed slightly at the comparison and didn't think of anything clever to answer because, sadly, Morgan was right this time.

You complimented the others' costumes and everyone agreed that you were looking forward to seeing Penelope Garcia and her extravagant clothes, since she hadn’t yet honored you with her presence. After that the group started talking about something else and soon the two of you were no longer the center of attention, allowing you to take the man's hand and sneak over to the drinks bar to look for something to cool your throat with.

“Does this have alcohol?” your boyfriend asked the bartender over the noise of the music, making you laugh lightly. When he checked that the drink was safe, he took one and made sure to order your favorite cocktail afterwards.

“If you think about it a little, we are both more like each other's characters,” you murmured thoughtfully, because what your friend had said seemed to have echoed in your head. “Shaggy was always clumsy and an enthusiastic eater. Like me"

“You're not clumsy.”

"I am. But not in a bad way, not like being an idiot or something, but like something…”

“Cute and adorable?” he completed.

"Exactly. You always know what I'm thinking."

“Despite I agree, I think the costume wouldn't have worked at all that way,” your boyfriend smiled, approaching you to grab your waist. Because of the heels your height was more balanced and he only needed to extend his hands a little to reach your body.

"Why?"

“Don't get me wrong, but I don't think that skirt would have looked good on me at all” you let out a loud laugh at this, realizing what he was referring to “Although you, on the other hand…” while he spoke one of his hands slid down until he slapped your butt, startling you slightly “you look gorgeous in it”

“You have all night to figure out how to take it off,” you said flirtatiously. Now it was Reid who held his breath “I'm wearing something underneath that I make sure matches the rest of the outfit and that I think you'll love”

The wink you gave him was enough to make him nervous and, evidently, excited by the images that his skillful mind was already beginning to generate.

Once you got your cocktail you returned to the hustle and bustle but your velvety voice couldn't leave Spencer's mind, who couldn't wait for the night to end because he was sure that the best candy he would receive this Halloween would be you.

taglist: @navs-bhat @reidwritings @tricia-shifting14 @spencerslove @vivian-555 @r-3dlips @rhiannonhippiegirl @taygrls @simp4f1 @sdddoobydoobydoo @taintedstranger @missabsey

#spencer reid #spencer reid fanfic #spencer reid x reader #criminal minds #criminal minds fanfic #dr spencer reid #matthew gray gubler #spencer reid x you #flufftober 2023 #prompt list #writing challenge #spencer reid fluff #spencer reid fanfiction #criminal minds fanfiction #spencer reid imagine #spencer reid drabble

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intimacyequalsdeath · 1 year ago

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Bubz's Slasher Fictober Day 7: The Lost Boys x Reader (Poly) (Apple Cider)

And with that the first week of Fictober is over with! I hope you've all enjoyed the first 7 fics of this wonderful month and I hope you all stick around to enjoy the rest <3

Notes: Minors DNI, This one still isn't smut but do stay tuned for later in Fictober (wink wink). No pronouns or descriptions of reader used. This is a poly relationship fic so if you aren't into it this isn't the fic for you. (Not my gif but i loved it too much not to use) I used a lot of creative liberties in this so if it doesn't seem 100 percent canon that's why.

Fic specific notes: Star doesn't exist in this neither does Laddie.

Rays of the light from the moon were peaking through the clouds as the coolness of the nighttime descended on Santa Clara. You had been awake for a couple hours and knew once the night came the boys would be ready to proceed with what you had promised them a year ago on the dot.

A year ago to the day was when David first brought it up.

"Become one of us" He rasped at you one night after a night out at the boardwalk.

At first you hadn't thought you heard him correctly, One of them? There was no way he meant a vampire? could he? Marko butted in before you could ask him.

"Yeah c'mon babe, You've been with us almost two years now we want you to be with us forever" You glanced at Paul and Dwayne and they both smirked and nodded.

You told the four that night that you wanted nothing more then to be one of them and be with them forever, but you needed time to process what that would mean for you. You promised them if they waited a full year you would drink the blood and become theirs forever. The past year had flown by and in reality felt like you had only had a week to process.

One by one you could hear the boys wake deeper into the cave and one by one in that order they emerged into the main room where you rested behind the sheer curtains that surrounded the bed.

Marko, Dwayne and Paul as usual entered first but as on any other day they stalled back waiting for David. David entered the main room a few minutes later fully dressed in his normal gloves and trench coat and approached your bed slowly and casually. He used a gloved hand to pull one of the curtains away from the bed and leaned over you with his other hand at the side of your face on the bed.

"Darling, I think you know what time it is" You opened your eyes to look up at one of the men you had promised yourself too a year ago but had been with for 3.

"Doesn't max have to be here?" you asked, you knew the answer was no but you still wanted to stall for as long as possible. David fixed you with an unamused look.

"Of course not doll, But you knew the answer to that, C'mon let's get you up and ready we have all night but we'd like to go to the boardwalk at some point" David said grabbing your hand and helping you sit up.

You noticed the other 3 had disappeared off somewhere probably to get a few things in order for you after you drink the blood. You placed your feet on the side of the bed and stood up pulling the shawl you were sleeping in tighter around you as the chill of Santa Clara night hit you like a truck.

"You're nervous" David stated, You turned to look at him and he chuckled a bit.

"The nerves are rolling off you like waves" He continued "Though I'm not sure why, You aren't second guessing this are you?" He asked you incredulously, You swiftly shook your head.

"Of course not David, that isn't it at all" He still stood next to the bed staring at you, you sighed.

"It's just, I don't know. What if the blood doesn't take or something, what if it goes wrong and makes me sick or something. I want to be with you guys forever but I'm so scared David" His face soften and he brought a gloved hand to your chin to bring your eyes to his.

"My love Max explained to you the worst things that can happen, Even if the blood doesn't take at first me and the boys are prepared for any situation. Even if something goes wrong we aren't going to let you get hurt, you just have to trust us darling" You sniffled with unshed tears in your eyes. David had a soft side but it was rare that he showed it.

Dwayne entered the room and fixed you with a worried look before turning to David.

"Everything is ready if you are David, Is everything ok?" Dwayne asked. You nodded and smiled at him.

"I'm fine hun. Just got a little nervous" You said wrapping your arms around Dwayne's middle, he pressed a quick kiss to your forehead.

"Well I guess that settles it then Dwayne, tell Marko and Paul that we're ready" Paul turned to leave and you grabbed his hand into yours and followed, David coming behind the two of you into the section of the cave where David's makeshift throne sat.

Marko and Paul had matching grins upon seeing you and you knew they were just as excited and anxious as Dwayne and David were even if Dwayne and David were better at their poker faces then the younger two vampires.

David stepped away from the group to walk up to the throne and grab the bottle that held the blood. Marko and Paul came up and wrapped their arms around you seemingly keeping you in place in case. Marko leaned over to your ear while David got the blood ready.

"Once you start drinking don't stop until David tells you, you might faint or pass out but me and Paul got you. If you do you'll wake up in an hour or two and we'll all take care of you till your fully turned" You nodded at him and gave him a small smile to try and show you weren't nervous.

David stepped forward and held out the encrusted wine bottle to you.

"Here Darling, Let's get this show on the road" He uncorked the bottle and handed it to you.

"Like Marko said, Don't stop drinking until I tell you too ok?" You nodded bringing the bottle up to your lips and with a final nod from David you took mouth full of the blood.

The metallic taste was sharp as the cold liquid made it's way over your tongue and down your throat as you swallowed the first mouth full of blood. Without any indication from David you took another drink followed by another. After the fourth mouth full you were feeling lightheaded.

"That's good enough" David said gripping the bottle and gently taking it from your hand. You let him take the bottle as you stumbled lightly. Your head was swimming in a way you had never experienced before, your vision was blurry.

Marko and Paul tried their best to steady you as you stumbled back and forth between the two of them like a ping pong ball.

"Get to the bed Marko" You heard David command before your world went black.

================================================

Two hours and some change later you awoke again. You were having the most weirdest vivid dreams before you woke up in a cold sweat sitting straight up in bed.

You immediately noticed all four of your boys sitting in chairs placed in different areas around your bed. You gather the blankets around yourself to try and fight off both the cold night and the shivers in your own body as your boys start to gather around you.

Paul reached you first and moved the hair from your eyes to place a hand on your forehead before looking to David.

"No fever" He said, David nodded.

"Good, I want us to check every hour or so to make sure" He said to all the boys. Dwayne leaned down and put his hands on your cheeks.

"How are you feeling?" He asked

"I'm ok, Just really cold and my stomach feels gross" You said, Dwayne nodded.

"That's normal angel, You're gonna have to deal with it till it breaks unfortunately" You nodded but inwardly groaned.

"By tomorrow night your probably going to feel some pain in your jaw area accompanied by more cold sweats and possible stomach aches, that's how you know it's time for you to feed" David stated, you looked up at him.

"We don't want you out there hunting yet till your better and we can teach you, so you'll stay here tomorrow night while we bring you food" Marko said from beside him.

"A fledgling" Dwayne said.

"A what?" He laughed at your confusion.

"That's what you are dear, A baby bat"

"Our little baby bat!' Paul exclaimed laughing out loud, you joined him.

Once you were able to conquer the mountain of fear and nerves the other side was much easier to deal with. Sure it didn't feel the greatest but if it meant spending eternity with your boys then it was a sacrifice you were willing to take ever since they had found you all those years ago they had shown you nothing but a level of love and protection you had never experienced before and you wouldn't know what to do if you didn't have that anymore.

You stretched your arms above your head and craned your back into a stretch while yawning.

"When do I get to learn how to fly?" You asked them at once, they all laughed before David answered.

"All in due time my love, All in due time"

#poly lost boys x reader #the lost boys david #david x reader #dwayne the lost boys #the lost boys #paul the lost boys #marko the lost boys #slasher fandom #slasher fic #slasher headcanons #slasher imagines #slasher x reader #the lost boys x reader #Fictober #Halloween

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cherrycola27 · 2 years ago

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Red, White, and Rooster

Series Warnings: Language, alcohol consumption. Frenemies to lovers, relationship of convenience. Political situations. Allegations of affairs, military and political inaccuracies. Smut. 18+ Minors DNI. Banner Credit: @thedroneranger

Masterlist Previous Part Next Part

...........................................

Chapter 13: What's In a Name?

After the holidays, you and Bradley fell into a comfortable rhythm. You'd decided to stop taking your birth control, and whatever happens, well, happens.

After the New Year, it's Valentine's Day, and soon, you're celebrating another birthday. Bradley's gift to you is a weekend away at Camp David, just the two of you. He jokes that it's because he has run out of oval shaped diamond jewelry to give you. You throughly enjoy your uninterrupted time with him.

During the first weekend of May, you host a two day camp for teen girls who are interested in STEM careers. You bring in women who are experts in their field to teach classes, host demonstrations, and answer questions. It ends with a gala for all the attendees and volunteers.

The Tuesday after, E! News tweeted a photo of you with some of the girls from the camp with the caption "First Lady Y/N Bradshaw host first annual 'Girls in STEM' gala at the White House." You click the link and read the article about your gala.

You decide to retweet it, but make a subtle correction. You type out your response. "Thank you for the wonderful coverage, E! News, but it is First Lady Y/N Wiseman."

You tap the button and send it out into the digital universe before returning your attention to some logistical things you were working on in your office.

Across the White House, Bradley's phone dings with an alert that you've posted something. He sees that you've tweeted about your gala from this weekend. He smiles at the photo and article, but his smile quickly drops when he sees the caption you've added. "What the hell?" He mumbles.

He immediately stands up from his desk, putting off his work for another time. He needs to talk to you— now.

After a quick conversation with your assistant, he learns that you are in your office. He bursts through the door without knocking. "Bradley!" You shriek as you jump in your chair.

"What the hell is this?" He asks as he points to his phone.

"Your cellphone?" You say skeptically.

"I know that, I mean this!" He huffs as he makes his way over to your desk and shows it to you.

"Oh, the E! article. You should read it. I thought it was great." You tell him.

"Not that, the damn article, woman! I meant what you tweeted about it. First Lady Y/N Wiseman? You're Y/N Bradshaw. Why would you go by your maiden name?" He asks you with an annoyed tone.

"Actually, I never changed my name when we got married. Legally, I'm still Wiseman." You reply nonchalantly.

"Wha—why? Why didn't you change it?" He sputters.

"Beacause, Bradley, when we got married, I was planning on divorcing you in four years. I didn't see the point." You shrug.

"Is that still your plan?" Bradley asks with an edge of anger. "No. It's not. I have no plans on divorcing you, Dearest." You tell him with a smile.

"Then why haven't you changed it? We've been married for over eighteen months." He states.

"There's no law that says I have to. It's the twenty-first century. Why is it such a big deal? You ask him.

"It's a big deal because I've always called you Mrs. Bradshaw. That's who you are to me. If we don't have the same last name, it's like we aren't a —united front. It means—I don't know how to explain it." He says, frazzled.

"It's just a name, Bradley. It doesn't matter." You say before turning back to your work.

Bradley's jaw ticks. "It doesn't matter?" He says as he stalks over to your desk. He stands in front of it and plants his hands firmly on the wood. You can tell he's tense. You get up and slide in front of him and wrap your arms around his neck. "Don't get yourself all worked up, Mr. President. I mean, what's in a name, really?" You ask as you thread your fingers through his hair.

"I want you to change your name." He gruffs.

"I'll think about it." You tell him.

"You've had time to think about it. I want you to change it. He states, crossing his arms over his chest.

"Bradley, it's not a big deal. Chill out." You sigh. You move to slip out from in front of him, but he locks you in place with his arms.

"You're my wife. You're going to change your name, so that way everyone knows you're mine." He growls. You narrow your eyes at him before saying those two faithful words. "Make me."

You stood in front of your desk, your eyes locked with Bradley's silently daring him to say something back. He had half a mind to throw you over his shoulder and take you to the bedroom and fuck the brat out of you. Instead, he spun you around and pushed you flush with the top of your desk. He hiked your skirt up and tugged the lace of your underwear down your thighs before delivering a harsh smack to your ass.

"Bradley!" You gasp from pain and pleasure. "You wanna act like a brat. I'll treat you like one." He breaths in your ear before delivering another smack.

"Fuck!" You groan as you arch your back to him. He chuckles and spanks you again before sinking to his knees and burying his face in your already dripping cunt.

Your fingers grip onto the edge of your desk as he fucks his tongue into you and sucks your clit into his mouth. It's hot and fast and dirty, and you're already about to tip over the edge. "I'm going to cum!" You warn him. But right before you fall, he stops.

You whine in protest. "Bradley! I was so close." You tell him.

"I know." He responds back with a smirk. He slaps your rear again before gathering up your wetness on his digits and sinking them into you. He has no trouble finding your gspot, and he strokes it over and over again while his thumb toys with your clit.

"Fuck! Feels so good, Bradley. Please!" You gasped as you feel your release approach. Bradley can feel you clenching around his fingers but before you can cum, he pulls them out and wipes them on the back of your skirt.

"What the fuck!" You scold him. "Brats don't get to cum." He tells you. "Now, I'm going to fuck you, and you don't get to cum until you decide to be a good girl for me." He growls before slamming into you.

He doesn't give you any time to adjust to his size before his hips are roughly smacking yours. He has one hand gripped on the back of your neck. The other his holding both of your arms behind your back. This gives him the leverage he needs to hold you in place or pull you back against him while he fucks you.

He's so deep you can feel the head of his cock kissing your cervix with every thrust. Within minutes, you're already close to the edge, after being denied twice.

"Fuck—please. Bradley, I'm so close!" You practically cry. "Are you going to be a good girl for me?" He grunts out. "Yes—yes. Please." You moan. "Tell me who you are then." He commands.

"I'm you're good girl." You pant.

"Nope. Not right." He moans.

"I'm you're little brat." You preen. You're so close that you feel like your body is on fire.

"Still wrong." He groans.

"Fuck. I'm the fucking First Lady!" You whale.

"Close but still not it." He hisses as he tries to hold off his own finish.

"Mrs. Bradshaw. I'm Mrs. Bradshaw!" You scream.

"Yeah you fucking are. Now cum for me Mrs. Bradshaw." Bradley moans. He doesn't have to tell you twice. Your orgasm crashes over you in waves as tears stain your cheeks. Bradley grunts as he finishes deep inside of you. Painting your walls white with his release.

He collapses on top of you. The room is filled with your gasps for breath and the scent of sex.

"I want you to change your name because you're my family now. You're the only family I really have. I'm the last Bradshaw if you don't." Bradley admits to you. As you both come down from your highs.

"Okay." You breathe out. "Okay?" He clarifies. "Okay, I'll if it means that much to you, I'll make it Mrs. Bradshaw, officially." You tell him.

He smiles and kisses the top of your head before slowly pulling out of you. He grabs some tissues to help clean you up before sliding your underwear back into place. He spins you around and kisses you deeply before exiting your office.

He walks down the hallway whistling and greets Jaycee as he passes her. She rolls her eyes and has a knowing smirk on her face.

She strolls into your office moments later.

"I was going to see if you were free for lunch, but it looks like you've already had some afternoon delight." Jaycee snickers as she plops onto your couch.

"I have no idea what you're talking about." You blush as you try to deny her.

"Oh, so it's just a happy accident that Bradley just so happened to be walking down the hall with his suit crumpled, and you just have thst freshly fucked look on your face because it's a Tuesday?" She prods. You try to come up with a witty remark, but you know you've been caught.

"Hey, I'm not judging you one bit. Lord knows what Jake and I have gotten up to in the middle of the day in his office." She laughs.

"Oh, trust me. I know. I've seen it." You shudder at the memory.

"Alright, enough talking about office sex-capades, or I'm going to end up having a vice president for lunch. The new secretary service agent, Alex, I think, is downstairs waiting for us." Jaycee says as she hops up to take your arm to escort you out.

......................

A few weeks later, you wake up early. You have a very busy day. You spend a few extra minutes cuddling your husband before both of you get up. You enjoy breakfast together. Bradley asks about your day, and you tell him that you have some errands to run, but you'll be home in time for dinner.

He briefs you on his day full of meetings and budget proposals, and there are two new bills on his desk that he had to take a look at.

You promised you'd help him look over them tonight, and you let him know you had a surprise for him this evening.

You kissed him before heading out to the garage with your new secret service agent, Alex.

Bradley finished his breakfast before heading to the bedroom to get ready. He was eager to get this day over with, because the quicker this day was over with, the quicker he was able to find out what your surprise for him was. He was praying that it was that little black number he saw you sneaking into the closet last week.

..................

It was getting close to five in the afternoon and Bradley was just finishing up his last look over for this new bill. He was anxious because he knew it was almost time for you to be home, but suddenly, an eerie feeling washed over him. Something felt—off.

He ignored it before continuing to work.

He was just about to wrap up for the day when Dante burst into his office with wide eyes and a heaving chest.

"Dante? What's wrong?" Bradley asked as he abruptly stood up. Several other members of the security team and Jake filed in behind him. Bradley's heart dropped.

"Dante—" He began as he gripped the side of his desk, terrified his legs would give out.

"Sir, the First Lady has been taken."

Taglist: @daggerspare-standingby @shanimallina87 @teacupsandtopgun @hecate-steps-on-me @roosterscock @roosterbruiser @roosterforme @seresinsbabe @startrekfangirl2233 @soulmates8 @xoxabs88xox @avengersfan25 @blackwidownat2814 @loveforaugust @mak-32 @cottagecori @amysteryspot @heyimmadisonn @princess76179 @bradshawseresinbabe @sunlightmurdock @lewmagoo @cassiemitchell @die-cunt @shipinabluebottle @malindacath @violyn20 @imawkwardlysoc @books-for-summer @blackroseboulevard @recordblues @desert-fern @luckyladycreator2 @katieshook02 @samhapner6 @sebsxphia @roosters-girl @diorrfairy @je-suis-prest-rachel @mizzzpink @a-linabean @amklibrary @gretagerwigsmuse @jstarr86 @actuallyazriel @krismdavis @bradshawsbaby @wkndwlff @dakotakazansky

#cherrycola27 #top gun maverick #top gun #rooster bradshaw #bradley rooster bradshaw #rooster top gun #bradley bradshaw #rooster smut #tgm #rooster x reader #top gun rooster #top gun smut #top gun 2 #tgm fanfiction #tgm fic #tgm smut #red white and rooster

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owlobservation · 4 months ago

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Interview with Itoshi Rin (Blaze Battle)

Taken from Blue Lock mobile game "Blaze Battle". Currently, the game is only available in Japan. I haven't played the game yet but thankfully a fan is kind enough to upload Rin's interview on youtube. You can check them here!

There are 10 Q&As in total, most of them are information that has been revealed in Egoist Bible and canon sources.

1. Where are you from?

Up until junior high school I played for Kamakura United Junior Youth. If you play soccer, you've probably heard of it.

2. What is your favorite food?

Ochazuke. I won't even complain if it's sea bream ochazuke.

3. What is your favorite animal?

Owls. They have good eyes. They're cute I guess.

4. What is your favorite subject

Physical Education and Art. English? That's a must for a soccer player.

5. What subjects are you weak at?

Calligraphy is so damn pointless. If you want to copy something, just use a copier.

6. What is your motto?

"The field is a battlefield." That's what soccer is to me.

7. What do you do in your days off?

Immerse myself in horror. Whether by playing games or watching movies. Back in the day it was only soccer...

8. What is your favorite movie?

I've only watched horror movies in these past few years.

9. Who is the person you admire?

Are we talking about soccer players? or....

Sae? ...Bastard, do you want to get killed?

10. What made you start playing soccer?

...Listen up. Don't ever ask me stupid questions again. Ask again and I'll seriously crush you. I'm dead serious.

===================================================

My Notes.

Q1. Rin played for the junior youth (U-15) division of Kamakura United. Sae used to be the ace of this team, winning Japan Club Youth Championship (U-15) when he was only a first-year junior high school student. He was scouted by Re Al because of this. (Light Novel). On his last year of junior high school, Rin also lead his team and won the U-15 Championship. I think that's why Rin answered the question with a bit of sarcasm. His club was pretty famous.

Btw, here's the club name in Japanese: 鎌倉ユナイテッド・ジュニアユース

Q2. Ochazuke (or Chazuke) is a Japanese dish made by pouring green tea, dashi, or hot water over cooked rice. Rin loves the one with sea bream. In Episode Omotesando oneshot, Rin said Ochazuke with sea bream is his tranquilizer* (精神安定剤）and he needs to eat it at least twice a month.

*Tranquilizer/sedative: something used to reduce anxiety, fear, tension, and stress.

Q3. "Owls. I'm fascinated by them. I think it's their eyes." (Egoist Bible)

Q4. He's already fluent in English.

Q5. "I hate having to write exactly as I'm taught." (Egoist Bible)

Q6. 「フィールドは戦場」 "The field is a battlefield" is what Sae told him. (Ch. 124). His other motto mentioned in Egoist Bible 「ぬるい」 "tepid/lukewarm" , is also what Sae told him from the same chapter. and night.

Q7. His hobby: Feeling the "chills" from playing horror games and watching horror movies. (Egoist Bible).

Q8. The Shining is his favorite horror movie (Egoist Bible). They didn't state that in the game for a reason I think lol.

Q9. The interviewer guessed that the person he admired is Sae which pissed him off. He didn't even answer the question. Anyway, the soccer player he admires is David Beckham. Rin said "I respect his kick". (Egoist Bible).

Q10. The question is harmless but Rin refused to answer again. The person who introduced him to soccer was Sae and it seemed like Rin didn't want to mention him at all...

#Rin #Itoshi Rin #Blaze Battle #Translation

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rekino2114 · 1 month ago

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How about we hop on the second trial train~ with the Despair Time girl with a boyfriend who's kind, affectionate, and helpful and their reaction to his secret, the secret being that he has two ultimates and his secret is the Secondary one as the Ultimate Assassin or Hitman. This ask was inspired by this artwork of a Kaede akamatsu talent swap. The first ultimate can be whatever you can think of heck it can even be the ultimate caregiver, though I do prefer for it to be one that matches their personality as a kind and loving person despite their other talent.

The drdt girls with an ult. Assassin reader

A/n:Thanks for the request, that's some really good art, also I decided to keep the reader other talent ambiguous (partly because I couldn't think of one) I didn't put min cause.....you know

Teruko tawaki

"Finally, now everyone's secrets's been revealed....that took a while"

"No that's wrong"

"H-hey why did you yell that? We weren't even arguing"

"S-sorry force of habit........anyway look at the scoreboard we're still missing one"

"Oh yeah, I didn't notice "You've been lying to everyone about your talent. You're actually the ultimate assassin" That's a pretty big one. I see why they didn't reveal it"

"There's something that's been bothering for a while about the secrets, in total counting the dead there's 17 of us, that's not divisible by 2 so you can't give every person another one's secret without someone being left out"

"So that means"

"Someone has their own secret"

"W-what? who is it?"

"It's easy to find out we just need to check who received that secret"

"Wait but that's....."

"It can't be"

"Y/n.........that's your secret isn't it?"

"............"

"Y/n......"

"Wooooooow, who would have expected that? Another helpful and kind person reveals his true colors in this trial. Are you trying to copy me y/n?"

"David-"

"And how do you feel teruko? What is this? The second boyfriend who betrayed you? You really do have terrible luck"

"............."

"Y/n, answer me"

".......I.........it's true. That's my secret"

".....R-really?"

"Yes. Although if I have to be completely honest, it's phrased quite poorly, I haven't been lying about my talent. I just also am the ultimate assassin"

"That must mean you killed a lot of people if they gave you that ultimate"

"To put it simply........yes"

".............."

"Teruko, I'm sorry, I didn't mean to hide this, I was just scared what you'd think of me"

".........We'll talk after the trial I need to stay focused on the case"

"......o-ok"

You were very nervous about what she was going to say later, but you still helped during the trial. When it ended, you tried to help teruko and to stay with her after everything but she told you she needed to stay alone for a while and after she went to find you in your dorm to talk to you

"T-teruko are you ok?"

"Yeah don't worry........I'm better but we need to talk"

"...........I'm sorry like I said before i didn't mean to lie to you I was just.......I was scared of how you'd react"

"............I forgive you"

"H-huh?"

"I understand why you did that, plus it would be hypocritical of me to criticize you for that, I kept my secret to myself until the end too after all"

".......your family....."

"I want to trust you, if I had trusted Rose from the start we would have solved the case faster and it's because I trusted eden that we found out that ace was the killer......I want to trust people and treating you badly because you kept your secret because you were scared of how I'd react......that would just be repeating the same mistake I did before.......I forgive you and I'll trust you"

You immediately hugged teruko while almost crying from joy"

"........thank you teru you have no idea what that means to me"

"..........You're welcome, just please don't make me regret my choice"

"Of course, I promise, I could never"

Arei nageishi

You were lying on your bed thinking about everything, especially the killing game and your secret. When you heard a knock on your door, you opened it without fear. If it was someone trying to kill you, you could probably easily incapacitate them with your strength but to your surprise you saw your girlfriend arei there

"Hey can we talk?"

"Arei? What are you doing here? It's almost night time"

"I know but I really needed to talk to you, especially with no one around"

"Arei you-"

"I know your secret"

"......!"

You let her in and closed the door and after you two sat on your bed

"So is it true? Are you the ultimate assassin?"

"........yes"

"And so you kill people for money?"

"Pretty much"

"........I see"

"Listen arei I'm sorry i-"

"So you're not a good person either"

"I-i-"

"That's a relief"

"Uh?"

"I'm really glad I found this out, because then that means you're just like me"

".............."

"No matter how kind or sweet you are, you kill people daily. You're still a bad person, and.....that's such a relief"

"i'm sorry"

"Don't be, finding this out made me love you even more, not even you, my sweet and loving boyfriend are a good person, so good people don't really exist and i will never become one"

".............."

"Hey, what's with the frown? Come on, smile a bit. I think your talent is sooooo cool you must have a lot of cool stories about how your missions went, I wanna hear alllll about them, I bet you're so badass"

".......really? You don't hate me?"

"Of course not, didn't you hear what I just said? I'm not a good person, so I'd be an idiot to be mad at you for not being one either, especially since I love you so much"

"............Thank you"

"Don't mention it"

"One question how did you find out my secret? I was the one who received it"

"Well I miiiiiight have looked at your paper when you went to the bathroom"

"......really?"

"Hey don't be mad at me, I was curious, plus it's a good thing I did isn't it?"

"........I suppose it is"

"Anyway, now I gotta go, I need to talk to David about something very similar, actually"

"OK stay safe I love you

"Me too"

You two then shared a kiss......not knowing it was the last one you'd ever share

Hu jing

"Teruko,please reconsider, I think you made a mistake"

"How so?"

"That can't be y/n's secret. He's always been so kind and nice to everyone else. He can't have killed all those people"

"Sorry, but it's the only explanation that fits. If he doesn't have his own secret, then who's does he have?"

"I.....I don't know but I'm sure he can explain it right y/n?"

".............."

"Y-y/n?"

".......teruko's right"

"W-what? That's.........not possible"

"I'm sorry hu but it's true, I'm also the ultimate assassin"

".........and you just......take people lives like it's nothing?"

".......I......I can't say that's inaccurate"

"So.....everything you did.....everything you said to me.......was it all a lie?"

"N-no i-"

"Were you playing with my feelings just like david?"

"Hu listen, I really love you and care about you and everyone else, my talent.....it has nothing to do about how I feel towards people"

".......still, all those people you killed, they had families, they had people who cared about them, you caused them pain"

"............."

"I can't forgive you so easily for that and for hiding it from me"

".......I'm sorry"

"But......I love you, I really do, I know it in my heart that you're a good person, an helpful and kind soul unlike David........so I'll give you a chance"

"......R-really?"

"I'll try, it won't be easy, but I want us to keep being together and if it means accepting this side of you like you accepted my secret......then I will"

"Thank you hu, I really don't deserve you"

"I love you dear, so please don't betray me"

J rosales

"W-what the fuck? You can't be serious"

"J listen"

"No, what the heck do you mean listen? You're telling me all this time you're a killer, and I'm just supposed to accept that"

"I-"

"Also you just kept that hidden from me all this time"

"I was scared of what you'd think, and also you hid your secret too"

"Don't you dare compare my secret to yours, you're a murderer, we're nothing alike"

".........."

"You're even worse than Levi, you could emphasize with all the people you killed and you still murdered them in cold blood for what, money? Do you understand how serious murder is? Did you kill arei?"

"No, of course not. Why would you think that?"

"........I just don't know if I know who you really are anymore"

"...........I'm sorry j I really am"

".......I need to think about this, just leave me alone k?"

".........Y-yeah"

Veronika grebenshchikova

"I see,y/n, is it true? Are you really the ultimate assassin?"

"..........yes"

"Hm, so how many people did you kill?"

"U-uh? I don't know, I guess it's so many I don't count them"

"......I understand........so could I get an autograph?"

"........what?"

"Sorry it's just.....finding out that my boyfriend was a serial killer this whole time. It's so exciting"

".......I'm an assassin, not a serial killer"

"You killed more than 3 people, right? To be called the ultimate assassin you have to, so you're still a serial killer hitman or not"

".....i-"

"Please darling, don't think I'm mad at you or anything. In fact, I love you 10 times more now which is saying a lot"

".........really?"

"Of course, unlike Levi, you could feel those people's emotions, you knew they had people who loved them and you knew they would feel pain, and yet you still killed them in cold blood that's so...........attractive~"

"What the fuck? Is she getting turned on by this?"

"Freak"

"I.......thanks, I guess? You're not mad, which is good........... but how are you? Your secret was pretty bad, just know that I'm always here for you"

"Of course I'm not mad my love, like i said before, I love you even more, and.....don't worry about my secret, I don't care about it, I just want to kiss you all over now"

".....that's not the reaction that I expect but....thanks"

Rose lacroix

"Rose can we talk?"

".......yeah of course why?"

"David said we had to say our secrets......I had mine and I want you to hear it"

"......ok"

"I.....I'm the ultimate assassin"

".........w-what?"

"I have two talents, my other one is the ultimate assassin"

"....so you're a hitman"

"Yes you could call me that"

"......*sighs* I could never"

"...Hm?"

"Killing people I mean, I could never do that, the screams, the blood, the pained expression, it would never leave my mind"

".......something the people who taught me this told me is that it's easy to kill someone, you just have to forget what sugar tastes like"

".............."

"But i know you could never, that's why I was scared to tell you"

"......well, I guess everyone has a couple of skeletons in their closet......I just didn't expect you to have so many"

"I'm sorry"

".....You're kind, sweet, I love you, my heart yearns for you......so even if I'll never be able to forget that you kill people for a living......I'll still be with you"

"........thank you"

"Don't mention it, what is love if not staying for each other despite everything...... I love you"

"Me too, more than you can imagine"

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jewreallythinkthat · 3 months ago

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ugh im sorry. you are more reasonable than i expected. seeing the horrific crimes committed by israel and some of its citizenry has made me far to cynical. i do not think that israel in its current form should exist but that is because i think *most* countries in their current forms shouldnt exist. i do not want any jewish person harmed for the crimes of a state that shouldnt have the right to claim they are the sole representatives of a religion. hamas is not a good force but its the only thing allowed to exist for palestinians. i just hope that palestinians have a safe home, and so do jewish people

Hi Nonnie,

Sorry for taking 24 hours to answer this, I wanted mull it over a bit for a couple of reasons. While I appreciate you recognising that you've become cynical (something I can very much empathise with), I do slightly resent the implication you assumed I would be unreasonable. I have done my very best to try and remain steadfast in my ideals that both Israelis and Palestinians deserve better and deserve dignity and I do ask you to think about why you were shocked that I would be reasonable in response to an ask which was in and of itself, asked in a civilised manner and that didn't attack me as a person.

I would be interested to hear what your issue with countries in their current form is and how you would see an alternative as being? My view on the matter is that seeing as the countries exist, and there is no way of dissolving a country without leaving power vacuums and a catastrophic number of innocents dead, then we should be fighting to make every country as good and just and fair as possible.

While I understand some people genuinely believe countries shouldn't exist, I find it concerning when they focus exclusively on Israel as the first they want to eradicate as the only thing that separates it from other countries really is that it is a majority Jewish state.

While Israel is not representative of Jews, in the same way Iran is not representative of Muslims and the USA is not representative of Christians, it is (sadly) the only country where I have never felt like I needed to be aware of whether my Magen David is on show or not because in Israel, it is safe to be a Jew. Much as it's shit to say this, being Jewish does make me a target in the UK - it's not fair, but it's true.

Hamas made themselve the only option in Gaza. Originally this was not the case. Hamas were elected as leaders of Gaza and proceeded to brutally murder all those who opposed them and there hasn't been an election since. Alternatives to Hamas could exist, but this would absolutely require a level of outside protection (from how I can see it) to prevent Hamas using violence to take over again. In the West Bank, the PA also exists (although is also incredibly problematic - but that's a different post). I don't know how one would go about it but a way to allow an alternative to Hamas which can effectively keep order, and work with surrounding countries to create a safe and less tense middle east has to be forged.

#jumblr #i/p #ask answered #i hope this was relatively understandable. I'm quite tired again but ive tried to address the points as i have seen them

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cannibalcoyote · 1 year ago

Text

Rockstar: Your Story(Interview)

You're a famous rock star being interviewed about the beginning of your career to the current (includes mentions of Mick Ronson, David Bowie, and Mick Jagger):

"Ma'am, can you tell us a little bit about when you first met David Bowie?" The question was so sudden that I could only scrunch my eyebrows at it. I expected David to be brought up sometime, but I didn't expect the first question to be about him.

"Sure, let's see.... I can't remember the exact date, but my dear friend - Mick Ronson - had called me up saying some band was interested in having us as guitar players. I was hesitant because I enjoyed my job as an architect, but something pushed me to go with him; we hopped on the next train to London and did the audition." I explain, tilting my head up at the memories resurfacing. Ronno had been unsure as well, but I'm glad we went.

"We heard it wasn't a pleasant experience? What happened?" They emphasize 'wasn't', clearly looking for some juicy gossip on Bowie, and who am I to disappoint.

"Well, David had accepted Mick but rejected me, and Ronno originally turned down the offer because of that. He didn't even tell me the truth, just grabbed me by the arm and lugged me as well as the guitars out of the building. I knew it hadn't gone well because he had this angry glare in his eyes, which is strange, because if you've ever met him, then you'd know he's rather sweet, and has a very discerning disposition.

I asked what was wrong and he just said that they didn't want us. I knew he was lying, but I didn't want to argue with him. We spent the rest of the time wandering around London sightseeing." I state, folding my hands up in my lap as I look at the interviewer. I don't like looking back to the '70s, a lot of stuff happened, and I fear what they will bring up.

"What happened after that?" The interviewer continues hastily digging, wanting more information. I guess this person isn't going to quit until they get the full story.

"We had stopped by a restaurant and were having lunch. Ronno was saying we should catch the train home after, but we were interrupted by David. I don't know how he found us, I just remember being shocked when he started begging Ronno to join his band. I was also a little confused, and I remember saying, 'I thought you didn't want us?'

To which David responded, 'No, I want him, I just don't want you.' That line had run through my head the following 3 years until I realized how lucky I was David didn't want me." I say the last few sentences in a softer voice, not liking to relive that particular memory.

"He said what?!" The interviewer over exaggerates their movements, getting the audience laughing just as they had hoped. I laugh a little too, David saying something so rude does seem rather uncharacteristic.

"Yah, I was rather astonished as well because the words left him in such a casual way, as if choosing what bread to buy at the market." I say, gently chuckling at the visual of David buying bread in such a critical way.

"What- How, how did Mick react to that." Their eyes widen, the crowd quiets down as they await my answer.

"Oh, he almost punched David! But I grabbed him and pulled him aside, asking why he lied and all that stuff." I respond, remembering the beautiful anger that he so desperately wanted to act on.

"I bet the last thing you wanted was for him to join David's band, right?" The interviewer asks the question humorously.

"That's... Wrong actually. He was vehemently against playing in a band without me, this is mainly due to the fact that ever since we were 12, we've always played together. But, I wanted him to take the opportunity, to show the world his ability, and to be able to be a confident player without me." I explain in a gentle voice, vaguely thinking of how self-conscious he was at the time when it came to him playing guitar.

"You seem to be a really supportive friend, (Y/N)." The tone of their voice turns genuine, the whole conversation losing the humorous quality that had been sustained.

"I try to be, the last thing I want is for people's failings or regrets to be because of me." I smile, my relieved guilt ebbing away as I think of where he and I are now.

"As well as being supportive, you also seem to be fairly protective, at least, that's what I got when Mick told us the story of you traumatizing his high school bully! With that in mind, how did you feel when you learned he was earning next to nothing during the tour?" The beginning of the sentence sent the interviewer and audience into a bit of a laugh, I laugh as well at the memory of scaring off Ronno's bully.

The laughter lightly quiets down to a more serious tone at the end discussion.

"I was appalled! I hated myself for a while because of that, because I pushed him into this situation where he was barely getting paid. Which was the opposite of what I thought would happen, especially after their popularity went through the roof!"I exclaimed, my eyes widening as I relived the shock; the ebbing guilt rushing forward tenfold.

"I heard you went to some extreme measures in order to help him out, what exactly did you do?" The interviewer goes on, the questions digging into lesser known information.

"Well, I joined any band I could, I would try and get hired by restaurants for live music during nights, and then during the day I had a job as a waitress as well as working part time as a lyricist." I explain, just saying that makes me remember how tiring my schedule was back then.

"Now that's a lot to juggle, and I'm sure you have some great stories from those days, but we have a specific story. What happened during one of your many tiring nights of live music?" They ask, this question is sort of a bore to me, one I'm frequently asked to retell.

"I had been band hopping at the time, and was hired for a gig when I didn't have a supportive group, so I improvised. I played my guitar and was singing live, but before that I had recorded the drums and rhythm guitar parts for the songs I was scheduled to play, so when I got up there I just started the recording and played along.

This was for a club where they wanted rock, so it was heavier playing. It was during my guitar solo I noticed someone in the crowd." I divulged, deciding to add in some information I had never shared before.

"Ooh, is this when you met the Rolling Stones?!" Someone screams out, the crowd and interviewer looking in shock before they all burst out laughing at the person's eagerness.

"Yes... but I technically only met Mick Jagger that night. I wasn't a big fan of the Rolling Stones at the time, but I did have an appreciation for their music. I was actually playing one of their songs at the time. Either way, it just surprised me to see him." I continued after we had all calmed down.

"I know you joined their band after that, but can you tell us what exactly went down?" I squint slightly at my interviewer's vernacular before deciding to just answer them.

"I don't think I can tell you all the details, I worry J might get embarrassed! But, I can tell you that he met me backstage after I was done and asked me if I was available tomorrow to meet him at a recording studio. It was the weekend the next day, so I said yes, he wrote down the address and time on a piece of paper, handed it to me, then said goodbye and walked away." I state in a jovial tone, Jagger is one of my favorite people to talk about, because he loves to call immediately after the interview and schedule a meet up. He's strange like that.

"Sounds strange? How did you feel after that?" They looked intrigued, clearly wanting me to divulge the information that I withheld.

"I was shocked. The next day I went and met him and his band mates, then they started playing a song together and asked me to improv. I had never heard the song before, so I just started watching their movements and playing off of that; by the end they asked if I was interested in joining their band, which I clearly said yes to." I exclaim, the interviewer's face looking shocked by what I just said.

"Wow, that all sounds like it went really fast?"

"Oh it was, we had only been playing for 20 minutes when they all stopped and asked me to join. I was going to say no because I needed to make enough money to send to Ronno, but when they mentioned how much I would make weekly I immediately accepted." I reply, chuckling as I remember my astonishment.

"I know after joining the Stones, your career skyrocketed, your solo albums have done well, and you write all your own songs?" They continue, motioning to my newest album sitting on their desk.

"Yes, my solo albums have done surprisingly well, and I write my own songs. I do accept and sing other songs sometimes, but I usually have a story told throughout my albums, and throwing in a random song messes that up." I explained.

"Did you and Mick Ronson keep in contact during this?" They question, looking at me in interest.

"Of course! In the beginning, Ronno and I called every week at the least, and we would send letters sometimes too!" I state ecstatically before calming myself down.

"How did that work? He was touring at the time right?" They ask in a befuddled way.

"Yes he was, but he would tell me the places he would be as well as the dates that he would be there, and I would do the same with him. It was a little complicated, but it was worth it." I reply, my hands waving as I mimic us writing letters.

"Honestly though, what would you send him that couldn't be said over the phone?" They ask after a few moments, laughing as their mind runs.

"Photos, drawings, songs, food-"

"Photos?" I can hear what they're implying, and I can't help but squint my face in disgust. The crowd's laughter magnified at my reaction.

"Stop thinking like that, you all have dirty minds! I would take pictures of me and the band, as well as the places around me. I loved drawing as well, so I would send him some, as well as some songs that I thought he would enjoy playing. Lastly, I knew he was getting food, but I knew it wasn't food he was used to, so I would bake him something, or buy him local snacks and ship them off to the correct address." I explain, describing the different things I would send him.

"Did he ask you to do any of this?"

"No, Ronno was never a complainer, he hated telling people his issues. I was usually the exception, but he prefers telling me in person as compared to over the phone or in a letter. He did enjoy them though, and he would send me songs and pictures as well. I remember him snapping a picture of his drummer scarfing down some cookies I made!" I jubilantly state, smirking as I remember that the picture is still hanging on my fridge.

"You sent him all these lovely things, what did he send you?"

"I never asked for anything more than a letter or a phone call, but he would send me these extravagant songs, asking me how I thought they sounded and if I liked them. He would also send me drawings - he's not really an artist, but he knows I love the little doodles he does randomly, so he started sending them to me." I grin, knowing Ronni will be embarrassed by me sharing this information.

"Was this an easier time in your life or would you consider it one of the more stressful?" Ah, here it comes, the questions I am most dreading.

"The fame and fortune made my financial issues about none, but socially I felt isolated. I had played in popular bands before, but never like this, I was only consistently around my band mates and the people that worked for them. I only really talked with Jagger and Keith, and then Keith randomly started hating me, so I was down to only talking to Jagger." I reply almost subconsciously, my mind wanting to distance itself from these memories.

"What about Ronson? I thought you said you had weekly phone calls and sent letters?" They ask in confusion.

"We did, but about 3 months into that, David started complaining to Ronno that he spent too much time talking to me, and that he was ignoring his band mates for someone he might never see again." The answer in a short tone, clearly still holding resentment for David's decision.

"David said that?" They say in shock.

"Yah, he said it straight to Ronno's face. We obviously didn't stop talking, we kept calling and messaging each other, but it lessened after that to about 1 call every 2 weeks. They became much longer phone calls though, he said that David was limiting his amount of calls, but stated that David couldn't limit his time, so we would end up talking through the entire night!" I smile on glee, our weak form of rebellion still makes my heart warm.

"We've talked about Ronson and his band mates reactions, but how did your bandmates react?" They continue, going down a different avenue.

"Well, everyone basically made fun of me and said we were in love. They told me to stop being so desperate because I was probably annoying Ronno, that remark actually made me start to overthink a lot. I started worrying that I was annoying him, and that he didn't like talking to me anymore. I think that's around the time I began to develop anxiety, I was already depressed, so that just added on to my plate." I responded before realizing I was over sharing on live TV.

"Did you tell Ronson about that? How did he react?" They gratefully kept moving right along, not leaving an awkward silence.

"Well, I never actually told him about that, I think this is the first time he's hearing this." I smile in discomfort, and an uncertain smile on my face.

"Really? You never spoke to him about any of this?" They ask in surprise, slightly taken aback.

"My anxiety had me thinking that saying a single word to him was annoying him, so no, I didn't just start talking about this to him. It was a really dark spot for me, the person to pull me through was Jagger actually. He noticed my extensive isolation, how I stopped eating around others, how I stopped talking. He really pulled through for me, which is probably why I'm still friends with him." I voice solemnly, deciding that I might as well be honest about the situation since there is no going back now.

"I know this is a heavy topic for you, I have some more questions, but if you're uncomfortable we can move on." Wish you had said that earlier, but oh well.

"Ask away, we can just skip the ones I'm uncomfortable with." I smile in response.

"Alright, what did Mick do? Did he just pull you aside and talk to you?"

"No actually, he wrote a song and asked if I would listen to it." I responded.

"What?" Perhaps I should rephrase my vague response.

"That's honestly what he did. But he wrote a song with true meaning, it was rather dark, and it actually made me cry and begin to hyperventilate. We were alone, so he just rushed over and helped calm me down; he didn't ask me any questions until I had completely relaxed." I explained honestly.

"What did he say exactly?" They continue.

"He just apologized, asking if I wanted to talk. I said no at first, but then he asked why I've been distancing myself from him and the band, why all the songs I was writing were either dark or sad.

I told him the truth, that I was depressed, that I felt so intensely alone, and that I could no longer talk to Ronno because I was probably annoying him." An uncomfortable shiver ran up my spine, reliving those memories makes me feel nauseous.

"How did he react to that? I can't really picture him being the best at giving advice and comfort." She smiles in a joking way, attempting to lighten the conversation.

"He was lovely, he hugged me like a giant teddy bear and told me that he would help me through this. We talked for a while, he asked me why I thought I was annoying Ronno, and I told him what the band had said to me." I answer, feeling a small smile appear at the memory of Mick comforting me.

"What did he say to that?"

"He told me that they were a bunch of single idiots who were jealous, and that I shouldn't ruin a meaningful relationship with my best friend by believing the words of immature drug addicts." I respond, barely withholding my laughter as I watch everyone's reaction.

"He said that?!" They nearly yell, everyone laughing at my answer.

"Yes, and the next day he told them all off for belittling me. During our talk he spoke to me about my isolation, I explained that I did that when I was sad or feeling out of place, and he asked what he could do to make me feel like a part of the team. He honestly made me cry a couple of times from how caring he was. Then he started talking about heavier subjects, such as why I wasn't eating during lunch breaks, why I never accepted snacks, and why I was noticeably losing weight." I state, realizing that I was now broaching the subject of my eating disorder.

"That must've been tough." They state seriously.

"It was, I realized at that moment, how much I missed Ronno. I asked Jagger if he wanted me to leave the band since I was such a problem, but he told me to stop being an idiot. The next day I was given a few sheepish apologies from my band mates, and Jagger became a very prominent person in my life from that day on." I explained.

"That's good. So Mick Jagger stepping up to help you must've put him pretty high on your list of friends right?"

"Yes, I only realized how much he was doing for me when he barged into my room during a depressive episode and all but shoved the phone into my hand. I distinctly remember him telling me not to come out until tomorrow morning. When I held the phone up, he had actually dialed up Ronno, who sounded very tired and confused, as well as concerned." I smile, these are the memories that I hold onto dearly.

"Really? How did he know what number to call?"

"I assume he went snooping around my desk, in one of my drawers was a paper with dates, addresses, and numbers. It was one of the sweetest things anybody had ever done for me." The look on my face was genuine, that was honestly one of the sweetest things anyone has done for me.

"I know you two are still good friends, but was there ever the possibility of anything more?" Oh boy, I hate it when they try to talk about this subject.

"I did find him to be attractive if that's what you're asking, but I was never in love with him. He did ask me out on a date and I had said yes, the date was lovely, but we got caught in a crowd of fans and he was like how he normally is. It made me remember how many groupies I'd seen leaving his room, and how many women I've seen smothered over him at all times, and it scared me away from ever allowing myself to love him." I reply sincerely.

"Could there have been something? If you hadn't cut it off?" They continue to push the topic.

"There could've been something eventually - from the despondent look on his face when I said I didn't want a relationship, I think he wanted us to become something more. I don't regret what I did, I like the friendship I have with him, the last thing I wanted to do was ruin it with his promiscuity and my need for loyalty. We've moved on though, I kind of see him as the older brother I never had." I reply, explaining my reasoning and the aftermath.

"Well, since that ship has definitely sunk, what about Ronson? Was there ever anything there?" They just won't give up will they?

"No... Well, there was one time in high school when we thought we should try dating, but that was spurred on by our teenage inability to understand that we loved each other, but not in that way. We realized that that wasn't us when we tried to act like a couple and both noticed that it felt forced. Ever since then we've been best friends." I state.

"Gosh, you're shooting down all of the fan favorites. Are you interested in anyone? Anyone at all?" They sound slightly exasperated, maybe I should throw them a bone.

"Hmmm... Maybe." I smile, a mischievous glint surely in my eye.

"What do you mean maybe? You can't leave the fans hanging like that!" I can tell that I have their genuine attention now.

"Well, ever since David and I have become friends, I've been... slightly interested in him." I say, jumping straight into the deep end.

"..." The silence could almost be described as palpable, it almost makes me want to laugh at how everyone is stunned into silence.

"Well, don't just stare at me." I laugh lightly.

"... I'm sorry, just processing. Does David know this?" They ask in hurried confusion.

"Well, if he's watching like he said he would, then he knows now." I laughed once again, but this time it had an air of uncertainty to it.

"Don't tell me you just confessed over live TV, in an interview no less!" They say in shock, looking at me with wide eyes.

"What if he doesn't reciprocate!" Their response makes me shiver in discomfort at that possibility, but I respond in humor.

"Then I die of embarrassment, cut all ties, and become a hermit!" I state loudly.

"Oh don't do that Y/N! Only healthy reactions are allowed on this show." The crowd laughs lightly at our convo.

I'm about to respond, but my Motorola starts ringing in my bag. I look to the interviewer before quickly digging through my bag and pulling out the phone. I sheepishly glance at it, the audience having fallen silent at the interruption.

"Is it alright if I answer this? It might be important." I state, I know this sounds bad, but it could actually be important since I left my home and animals under the care of my neighbor.

"Of course, but you owe us one more question before you leave then." They respond, holding out their hand.

"Deal!" I agree, shaking their hand quickly.

"Hello, this is Y/N." I state in a professional tone, getting a funny look from the interviewer at my seriousness.

"Y/N darling!" I am thrown off by the happy and familiar tone.

"...David?!" I state in slight confusion, everyone seeming to lean in closer.

"...Yes?" He responds in the same tone, making fun of the way I responded.

"Why are you calling me? I'm in an interview." I explain, swiftly going back to my professional tone.

"Yes well, when someone confesses they are interested in dating you, I thought the first thing one should do is accept." He responds in a joking yet serious tone.

I'm silent for a few moments in surprise, did David just say he wants to date me too?

"Well, don't leave me without a response darling... Will you go on a date with me?" His serious and self assured tone dwindled slightly, I can hear his uncertainty.

"Yes." My response was short, it was rushed and all I could muster with my amount of shock.

"Good, I'll pick you up after the interview, so I'll see you in a few minutes." He stated before hanging up.

I can't contain the overjoyed smile that spreads across my face, most certainly accompanied by a warm blush. The audience snickers as I clumsily put my phone away, then they start laughing as the interviewer stares at me with a smug grin.

"Who was that?" They ask tauntingly.

"Ohhh... no one." I try to brush it off, but I know no one is believing.

"Really! Does this no one happen to be named David Bowie?" They continue.

I avert my eyes in embarrassment, the audience laughing even louder as I sheepishly nod my head.

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