#also if anyone is confused about why I’m a freshman in a French class with juniors it’s because I’m technically in honors French

[t-a-l-i-a18]

Chat, why’d two JUNIORS in my French class say they were gonna push my out of the way at the when I went to get my phone at the end of class and I gave them room to leave the class. Chat I’m a freshman I’m scared. I can’t Folie a Deux this anymore

It is the 4th week of high school and death is already stopping me

[junhuiste]

next level (ex-wip)

pairing: wonwoo x gn reader

word count: 2200

tags/warnings: fluff, angst, slightly suggestive, cursing, friends to enemies to lovers, college au

a/n: so i said i’d publish my other ex wips and here’s another one! i planned on making this a 3 parter where y/n asks wonwoo for help on a computer game even though they were enemies but before that they were friends …does that make any sense i didn’t think so! also this is an ex wip so sorry for the asterisks everywhere! those words were the ones i was gonna replace later on lmfao!!!! also i wrote this 2 years ago when i was 17 so my apologies if its utter bullshit 😭

as wonwoo help you leveled up, you wondered if you should do the same regarding your friendship…errr…enemyship….

It’d been an hour or so of Wonwoo verbally guiding you through the various moves and strategies but once he stood up your breath suddenly hitched, for whatever reason.

Breathing seemingly became somewhat harder as you saw from the corner of your eye that wonwoo was coming to stand behind you.

“it’s gonna get harder,” he said softly, his hand finding yours, “let me help you.”

as much as you appreciated his help, you didn’t need wonwoo to baby you; you were perfectly capable of taking verbal directions without needing guidance like a rookie. “i can do it; i swear!”

though it was hard to train your eyes on both wonwoo and the computer monitor simultaneously, you managed to do it anyway. “that’s not what you said last week when i offered you my help.”

it wasn’t that you didn’t need wonwoo’s help, and it wasn’t certainly that you didn’t want it, but there was something mischievous yet somehow alluring and amusing pushing him away. it was honestly quite ***horrible ** for you to admit it, but playing cat and mouse was refreshing, though it was a game hard to keep up with.

eventually you gave in and you took deep breaths slowly and surely as wonwoo’s hand rest atop yours. it was warm, but not sweaty; relaxed, but not ***heavy***. his head was most definitely closer to yours than last time, even though you tried to focus solely on the computer monitor, he was within an ear’s whisper from you. as he guided your hand, your thoughts glided slowly away from the game entirely and onto the boy behind you. it was hard, really, to ****focus*** on the 146th level of the game when the boy you liked a while back had his shoulder barely leaning into yours, with his warmth radiating onto you so so comfortably.

it hadn’t even been 10 minutes since wonwoo had stood up behind you that his arm was now resting ***comfortably***on yours. the weight of his top half ***barely*** on yours wasn’t even what went into consideration, for the most part. it what you could feel was ***slowly*** developing in the room, moment by moment, and it was excruciatingly painful how much time it took to build up. palms clammy, fingers ready to give out, and breathing ***most definitely*** not under control, you were ready to tap out and give into your instincts.

a mosh pit of psychedelic colors reflected onto both of your faces as the round ended. with the blinds only half drawn and how bright the screen was turned up, you winced at what seemed like a light source that envied the sun glared at you. the heat from the screen wasn’t the only **warmth**** prevalent, however. you certainly hadn’t forgotten about wonwoo’s shoulder ***leaning** onto yours.

avoiding all what you’d learned in high/secondary school about what freud said about the ego calming the id, you surpassed straying from your normal actions. you’d leaped from them, and it couldn’t be fathomed by anyone, by you or soonyoung, or especially jeon wonwoo, what lead you to remove your headphones and turn around in the computer chair and then kiss jeon wonwoo. what was most surprising was that he leaned in too, so much didn’t have to be done on your part.

as he leaned in closer, you pulled wonwoo closer, as if it were instinct and you’d kissed him a thousand times before. knowing him for quite some time, it was evident that he didn’t link up with anyone, whether that be for a single night of pleasure or months of commitment, so it was ***most definitely*** more than alike to a jack-in-the-box when he knew what he was doing, and so well too. his hand **softly*** stroking your cheek with your thumb and your hand ***softly **rubbing*** his neck were a pair you never would’ve expected in light years would be together. the whole ***thing** was just unbelievable…and undoubtedly **breathtaking***, as such as you would ***hate*** to ever tell him.

flashes of blue and red glossed wonwoo’s face again as you looked up at him. “would you look at that,” a slight tinge of satisfaction laced his tone and captured his expression, as you heard a faint “level 147 unlocked” behind you.

the exact reason you were at the dorm for you had completely abandoned; your endeavor was ***seemingly** cut short by your id, too strong for it to be tamed by your superego. in fact, all goals for the game were temporarily thrusted into the iceberg of your unconscious thoughts as you looked up at wonwoo again while tugging his shirt.

it was a precarious game of truth or dare you were playing with yourself, and you were losing to nothing none other than your current desires? mere attractions? repressed feelings? whatever it was, it didn’t really matter as wonwoo leaned into you again, this time more ***forcefully/intensely**, with both of you managing to slip a tongue in here and there. french kissing wonwoo? not exactly on your bucket list but something you were glad to have checked off, be it for lust, regret, or simply nostalgia of how you once felt for the boy who’s sweater you were tugging at to bring him closer and closer and closer.

it had **certainly** been more than a few good minutes of locking lips with jeon wonwoo, and what resulted was both of you panting heavily and looking each other in the eyes a little too intensely for your liking—not necessarily a look of sin but rather of repressed longing and ***regret**. the tension swore to engulf you and spit you out but what was sprinting through your mind instead was that wonwoo kissed you back.

had the naive, freshman you known that making out with jeon wonwoo would become a reality, you would’ve jumped at the thought. was he cute or irritating? bold or brazen? or was he simply just there that you immediately caved in and let your libido think for itself? it was just like that class where he palpated you; did feelings resurface because of a craving for affection? or was wonwoo a person you genuinely wanted to pursue something with. restating what he’d said earlier, that’s not what you’d thought a few months ago.

confusion. that’s what it was at most, at best, with the clearest label. wonwoo was there, yes, but he was also ***caring** (yet competitive), offering (yet **pretentious**), and someone you’d cared for back. the way he carried himself around you was *annoying** at times, sure, but he was never malicious. wonwoo had not one bad bone in his body, and you were willing to stand by that statement. his competitiveness and bold nature that peeked in once in a while were far outweighed by his humility.

no matter how many times he corrected you as naive and curious freshmen, you’d always find yourself falling back to feelings. just like now. but what was it really? did bubbles reappear just because of his hand on yours? because of his somewhat secret smiles when he knew you enjoyed his company? maybe. but it certainly wasn’t because he was just there.

even if bubbles popped and didn’t reappear, it would be better to get feelings out, right? it would lessen the blow, for both you and wonwoo. would you come to terms with what you once harbored for jeon wonwoo? maybe not.

sitting on the bed, wonwoo perked his head up at the sight of you in the chair finally facing him. “this…this isn't a heat of a moment thing…” you began, taking as much of your precious time as possible. if you were going to confront how you felt and didn't feel simultaneously, it might as well have taken some thought at the very least, especially for wonwoo’s sake.

the raven-haired** boy hunched over with a quirked eyebrow to continue to hear you out.

“i like you—i’m sorry, i mean i used to like you. like a lot. sometimes a lot for my own good. back in freshman year.” it was a struggle to get it all out in one breath. confrontation should be something you’d never have to do again. wonwoo stayed silent, his eyes no longer **trained* on yours, but shifted **somewhat** nervously to the floor. the way your heart pulsated mercilessly at the brutal sound of silence forced the temperature to shoot up suddenly.

it didn’t work; you didn’t feel clean, worse actually, and from what it looked like at the moment, wonwoo probably did as well. he usually did well when it all boiled down to fear, feelings, and *rationality* mixing, because he pushed it away. everyone knew that, and you especially. he didn’t take any hard hits when he was third-wheeling soonyoung or roaming mindlessly at one of **NCT’s** notorious frat parties.

maybe it was time to leave. perhaps those moments of silence where you had to recollect yourself, your dignity, and your feelings were a pure waste.

“i’m sorry, i don’t know why i just threw that at you. i’ll leave now—and uh, thanks for the help.” sometimes feelings weren’t merely felt, other times they were ruthless and just sprung up at the worst of times. maybe that’s why your body was unforgiving and threatening to prick your eyes with water. hurriedly, you grabbed your headphones and clenched them tightly in your fist before taking a step to leave.

however, a pang of something hit. it was unidentifiable, that thing that was keeping you from taking any more steps to leave wonwoo’s room. it was agonizing at the same intensity as it was delirious, and wild and tantalizing even. whatever it was, it was piercing you, forcing you to stay in place.

once again, the air around you was impassioned and the evident thumping and thrashing and thrusting in your chest occurred as wonwoo stood up in front of you. his tall stature didn’t threaten you, only how you felt did.

“how long?” he pried with a *cold** kind of warmth before sitting down in the computer chair. his knees were almost touching yours, and he leaned back with burning curiosity.

“i…don’t know. it was a while back…and for a long time; that’s all i remember.”

the unspoken miracle had graced you as river that almost formed around your eyes earlier had finally dried up.

wonwoo had that same look on his face he always had when no answers or solutions came to mind right away. it wasn’t expressionless, far from it. you didn't know if it was inquiry or discontent, or even a thrill; the latter you’d wished but was far from being a reality.

the way wonwoo struggled to get out what he wanted took you aback. he always knew what to say, whether witty, spiteful, or helpful, and to plain sight of him also choking on his words threw you for a numbing, yet throbbing** loop.

“do you still like me?” wonwoo finally made eye contact with you, the kind of eye contact someone makes when they itch for the answer to so badly be yes.

it was at that moment that he locked you in again. but you spent the last year convincing yourself you hated him. indeed, hate was too strong of a word for it. something else. and just as you’d told him, it was absolutely not the kiss that stirred you to confess in a half-assed manner. it was just so bothersome to not know what those feelings were.

it almost choked to say it, because you *genuinely* felt it, but didn’t know what exactly to do about it.

“i-i don’t know.” you couldn’t keep up with eye contact. it was much too biting.

wonwoo captured your eyes again, but this time it wasn’t the same confused gleam they held, but rather one of clouded elation. you couldn’t exactly tell, but you knew it was just electricity in there somewhere.

“do you want to kiss me again?” was the million dollar question that was lurking. wonwoo asked it with such subtle amusement. instead of taking advantage of your feelings and vulnerability in this situation, which he would never think to do, he decided to act upon his own.

there was an evident yearning in his tone, his body language, his eyes, everything. you knew the difference between when wonwoo was simply waiting for an answer and when he was aching for it immediately. this moment called for the latter.

his inclination provoked a smile out of you. whatever it was, you didn’t know how you felt; you just knew you needed to kiss him again.

you dropped everything you had been clenching so tightly in your hands and and bent down to hold his face in your hand as you leaned in. his soft lips finally met yours again, and unlike the first couple of kisses you shared, this time it was *softer***, slower, driven by an avid and throbbing want to be as close to the other person as possible. this time it had meaning. and you couldn’t find yourself pulling away as wonwoo’s hand came behind your thigh to pull you closer to him.

he was never one to make the first move, for most things, and it surprised you when he popped the question and pulled you to him. practically falling on him in the chair, you whispered out a faint “sorry”, as he rushed to hold you. he *giggled softly** before he continued to kiss you. eventually you repositioned yourself to straddle him in the chair and oh my god you were making out with jeon wonwoo.

videogames, huh?

[something-fanfiction-ie]

Out of the Lion’s Den

Pairing: Spencer Reid x Reader

Warnings: Mentions of rape (not against the reader), attempted rape and assault (against the reader) angst, cursing, insults, the usual super dramatic shit you see in the taken down of an unsub

A/N: Wowie wow wow wow, so this is kinda long. And I know I said I was gonna post it like two days ago, HOWEVER! In my defense, I started writing it and then about halfway through I accidentally closed tumblr so it deleted everything I had. So I went to bed defeated. But it’s here now, that’s the important thing, right? Remember to like, comment, reblog, send me asks, and just be your usual amazing selves and give me the attention that my parents never gave me as the oldest of eight. As always, THANK YOU FOR SUPPORTING ME AND I APPRECIATE YOU GUYS SO MUCH!!

___

[ Part One | Part Two | Part Three | Part Four ]

December 1998

It felt good to be back home in Georgia. The wind whipped at the trees outside of the diner you and you best friend were currently catching up at. The waitress, Flora, knows you by name and sets your usual in front of you with a ruffle of your hair and a couple of southern endearments.

“Tell me everything.” Madalyn says, reaching across the table for the ketchup that was placed on your side of the booth. You swat at her hand when she makes a grab for one of your fries. Her laugh is loud and feels like home, making you smile into your drink in a way you haven’t smiled all semester.

“I’d like to preface this conversation by saying that I feel like this would be a much cooler experience if I were the same age as everyone else.” You point out, brushing your growing bangs away from your eyes with an annoyed swat. Her eyes soften with sympathy, swirling a fry into the ketchup tucked into a safe space on her plate. She doesn’t say anything though, knowing that you have more to say.

“The classes are awesome. The campus is beautiful. I learn something new all the time, which was never happening when I was going to school here,” you pause long enough to glance around the room. It’s packed with all kinds of people, from old men clustered at the counter sipping on coffees to construction workers munching on hamburgers during their break, even big families squished into booths and tables for a nice Sunday family lunch.

“But?” You shrug in response, knowing that Madalyn will be able to read you like an open book if you meet her eyes. Across the table, the amateur profiler squints her dark eyes at you with suspicion.

“Everyone just kinda avoids me. The guys are cute, but they’re all nineteen and twenty. Most of the things to do on campus, you have to be eighteen for, so I mostly just spend my time at the library or at Aunt May’s doing homework.” At this, Madalyn stops eating, raising her eyebrows with a cheeky grin.

“I bet your grades are super rad,” You resist the urge to throw a French fry in her face after what she says next. “And besides, I’m the only friend you need in your life.”

“Actually, I have made a kind of friend?” Flora is over before you can finish the drink in your cup, filling the glass with a dark, blue pitcher. When you thank her, she reaches out to pat your cheek, mumbling something about missing you while you were gone.

“Should I be jealous? Is she pretty? She may be a big sister type, but I’m your soulmate.” You laugh into your sandwich having to cover your mouth when you take a bite and the laughter doesn’t go away.

Madalyn has been your best friend for four years, although time seems to have no meaning in your relationship because nobody would doubt it if you told them you’d known her since birth. While most kids in your age group had grown up thinking you were odd, Madalyn had decided that you were just interesting. That interest had turned into a friendship that would span years and miles more than many friendships do.

While the things you both enjoyed, like Leonardo DiCaprio and Ben Affleck, certainly brought you together, it was your differences that made you click like the pieces of a puzzle. Only true friends can debate on opposite sides of an argument and then end the night eating popcorn while watching Space Jam in the living room.

“His name is Harvey.” When Madalyn’s eyebrows go up this time, it is from surprise. You’ve never been one to socialize with anyone of the opposite gender, much less become ‘kinda friends’ with them. Plus, as a young lady of very womanly curves, she’s quite aware of the way some guys cross the line on a regular basis.

“(Y/N)-” You wave your hand in the air, once again pushing at the bangs that keep falling in your face. You should have never cut them in the first place, and you never would have if you realized what a hassle they would be when you started growing them out.

“I don’t like him like that. He’s just a really nice guy, helps me with homework and walks me to a class or two. We’ve never even met up outside of school.” Her eyes are still narrowed, a stray dark wave falling from the hair comb that pins the top half of her hair away from her face.

Eventually, she changes the subject. Trusting that you are smart enough to know when things have gotten out of hand and how to take care of it.

“So why are you growing your bangs out? I thought you liked them. Didn’t you say they make you look more grown up?” You unstick your thighs from the leather booth seat, pinning her with a look that she knows all too well.

“Now that’s a crazy story.” She also makes herself comfortable in her seat, preparing herself for a story. It’s probably a good thing you’re a phenomenal story teller, or else she would have gotten tired of all the stories you tell really quickly.

“So last month a girl comes forward and reports that she was cornered by a man she didn’t know on her way from the library back to her dorm. He held her at gun point and rapes her. It got kinda big, because she was rallying a group of men and women to escort girls around campus. And, I mean, I understand the unease she must feel, and I was sympathetic, but I was kind of confused why there was so much uproar over one rape.”

Having finished your own fries, you reach across the table and steal one from your outraged best friend. Before she can grab it back, you’ve shoved it into your mouth.

“Until a second girl comes forward and says that she reported the same thing happening to her a month ago. The campus, meanwhile, is doing nothing about it. No increased security, no curfew, not even acknowledged them.”

“For two girls?”

“For five,” The pause you take is natural, scooting the bottom of your cup across the tabletop so you could sip from the straw without picking the cup up, but it reads as dramatic effect. “And that’s not even the craziest part.”

One dark eyebrow raised into her hairline, waiting for you to continue the story and also answer the question.

“Every victim was a freshman, so they’re a little on the younger side, they all had the same hair color and style, all had the same body type, all were the same height, all had the same eye color.” This time you do pause for dramatic effect, using the silence to build the tension.

“And all of them look exactly like me. Bangs and all.”

Madalyn leans forward a little, suddenly very worried about you going back next month. As she hurriedly tries to make sure you are taking the necessary precautions during a scary time like this, Flora floats around the diner, stopping to fill up the cup of a single man just behind your booth. All he has is black coffee, a textbook of some kind is splayed open across the table but he doesn’t seem to be too interested in it. Instead, he leans back in his seat, his ears listening to your every word.

“So in summary, I’m growing out my bangs because that’s obviously apart of this dude’s type.” Madalyn doesn’t protest anymore when you reach for another fry on her plate.

“Stop looking at me like that. I’m going to be fine. I’ll even color my hair if you’re so worried.” And the conversation continues, your best friend overly worried about you and your life as a fifteen year old college student, and you masking your fear for appearances sake. Harvey, however, finishes his coffee and asks for the bill.

He thought you were smarter than that. He thought you were smart enough to connect the dots and at least notice that he’d done all of it for you. That you were his everything. Apparently that was wrong. One day you’ll figure it out, of that he is certain.

For now though, you don’t even notices when he passes your table to get to the door.

Present Day

Spencer steps away from the car door, the cool wind hitting his cheeks and tousling his hair. It helps the dizziness in his head, and the nausea in his stomach, but it doesn’t help the sharp pain in his heart. His brain is swimming in all of the information, putting the pieces of the crime scene together like it was a puzzle.

“He left her in the driver’s seat after stabbing her from the backseat, walking around the front before knocking her out and carrying her to his own vehicle.” JJ looks back at the car, peering around crime scene analysts as they hurry about collecting evidence.

“She tried to leave, but her tires spun in the mud.” Rossi notes, nodding to the mud splatter along the sides of your car and the tiny graves each tire has dug into the ground for itself.

“There’s blood in the back.” Spencer finally speaks, looking away from the backseat window and back to his two partners. All eyes flick to the back seat where there is indeed two drops of blood on the floor and a smear of it on the headrest of the passenger seat.

“If he’s in any system then we’ll catch him.” Rossi said, nodding for the techs to collect what they could from the back. Spencer turns back to the car, well aware that there wasn’t anything else here for them the find that would lend them any information as to your whereabouts.

“In a system or not, I will hunt him to the ends of the earth before I let him get away with this.”

Back at the BAU, Prentiss makes calls to your mother and your best friend, Madalyn. Both answer on the first ring, and both are all the more willing to answer any questions that may assist the team in finding the man who had taken you.

“Is there anyone you remember (Y/N) mentioning that maybe stood out to you or her as creepy and stalkerish?” Your mother doesn’t recall anyone, having been focused on so many different cases during your childhood and having been so distant from you since you decided to not become a detective.

Madalyn, however, is quick to answer with a name Prentiss recalls crossing off the list of persons of interest.

“Harvey Morgenstein. They were friends in college, and although it weirded me out because he was a lot older than her at the time, he seemed harmless and I trusted (Y/N). But then he became her agent’s personal assistant all coincidentally and it just seemed too fishy to me.” Prentiss writes the name down, sliding it across the table with a pointed look at Garcia.

As quick as lightning, Harvey’s life history is pulled up between computer screens for both women to delve into.

Harvey is a short man with a wide build that, in earlier pictures, shows him to be more soft than muscly. His hair is dirty blonde but his eyes are two dark circles of coal that seem to pierce through the screen and into the souls of both Penelope and Emily.

“He’s totally not creepy looking.” Garcia remarks sarcastically, eyes sweeping across the information given to her the way Reid’s eyes might fly up and down the pages of a book or a case file.

“Tell me about it.” Emily replies, leaning into the seat designated for those on the team who so wished to give Penelope a visit while remaining off their feet.

“Harvey is a pretty normal guy for the most part. Single child of a Harvey and Lucille Morgenstein. Graduated from Georgetown in 2000 with a major in computer technology, minor in criminology.”

“The same graduating class as (Y/N).” Prentiss notes, her eyes just behind Garcia’s as articles and documents fly around the computer. Where some people talked with their hands, Garcia talked with her screens. The constant tap-tap-tapping of rings and fingers against the keyboard was like the audible churnining of cogs in her brain.

“Yeah, he spent some time as an IT guy at Georgetown before he got a job as a personal assistant. The only spot on his squeaky clean record that I can find is that he was a person of interest in a few rape cases involving some girls on campus back in the late 90’s, but he had alibis for every single one so they let him walk.” The pictures of every victim pop up across the screen in the form of a newspaper article talking about the serial rappings.

Gasps come from both their mouths as the dots connect.

“Call Reid and the others, and then call the agent. I think I may know what is going on.”

A couple of hours later and the pieces are all starting to come together.

Harvey had been the serial rapist from the 90s, attacking women who looked like you out of anger over not having you for himself, and pure obsession. After graduation, he tried to move on by distancing himself from you, but when his mother was diagnosed with cancer he fell back into his old stalkerish ways.

He followed your every move through your agent, who was the only person you spoke to the most outside of your mom and Madalyn.

After a little digging into unsolved rape cases in the area, it was obvious from the victimology and an oddly specific M.O. where he bit each of his victims on the neck, that he had also fallen back into his perverted rapist ways.

Harvey might have been content to stay like that, an obvious self esteem issue keeping him from ever approaching you directly for a date, until a month ago. Not even two days after the death of his sick mother, you and Spencer went on your first date outside of the bookstore. A double trigger.

In a sick and twisted display of love, Harvey started killing people the way you’d written deaths in your books. But with every death you continued to ignore him and see Spencer.

“Eventually it all became too much for him to handle and he snapped, kidnapping (Y/N) and calling to taunt Reid over his victory.” Hotch passed a hand over his face. The sirens blared loudly as they raced for Harvey’s house just outside of Quantico.

“This guy has been stalking her for a ridiculous amount of time.” Morgan commented with a shudder, sympathy and guilt from the earlier interrogation eating at him as the black SUV careens around a corner.

When they bust through his door, clearing each room and finding a creepy amount of pictures and papers about you, they realize that he has taken you somewhere else. And who do you call when you’re at a dead end and you need information?

“You’ve reached Penelope Garcia in the FBI’s Office of Supreme Genius.”

___

Breaking a chair that is nailed to the floor is a lot harder than it sounds, and it already sounds kinda hard.

There was a lot of kicking and hitting and some bruises were definitely starting to form, but the amount of blood coming from your leg was scary. The chances that the knife had nicked your femoral artery were relatively slim, especially given how long you’ve been bleeding, but you couldn’t help but waver on the side of caution.

After several failed attempts of throwing your body into the wood and kicking and hitting and pulling and crying and then repeating the cycle, you managed to pop a leg off. While the base of the leg stayed nailed to the floor, you spent the rest of your time trying to tear the chair from the rest of the legs, when you did you threw the top half against the concrete wall.

Taking two spindles from the back, you quickly scurry back to the mattress and wait for him to return. It’s only a matter of time before he decides to come back down here to taunt you or try something.

In your short time in what Harvey has so lovingly deemed ‘your room,’ you have come to a couple conclusions in an attempt to distract yourself from the excruciating pain in your thigh.

One being that this is not Harvey’s home. Of that you’re one hundred percent certain. Upstairs, you can hear the sound of two sets of feet thudding around. You can only assume this is his childhood home. You remember that his mother had died about a month ago, causing him to resign from his position as your agent’s personal assistant. She had mentioned to you that he planned to help his father as much as he could before he too passed away.

The second being that you were probably going to loose your leg. Any move this way or that sends a thousand knives through every nerve in your body. Your throat is scratchy and sore from how long you’ve been yelling, both in trying to get someone’s attention and in pain.

The light coming from the small window next to the ceiling hasn’t even begun to wane with the falling sun when the door opens again. The chain around your uninjured leg clatters when you pull your knee up to your chest. You don’t even attempt to move the other leg.

Harvey appears in the opening, a tray of food balances in his hands as he shuts the door behind him.

“Find some weapons?” He asks casually, setting the tray beside the lamp as he sinks to his knees on the mattress. Your knuckles are white around each spindle, the inside of your mouth is sensitive to the touch from how much nervous chewing you’ve been doing.

“Get away from me, or I’ll kill you.” You seethe, fighting through the swimming in your head that hasn’t gone away since you woke up here. He gives you a look like you’re a misbehaving child, but it’s soon replaced with anger when you slap him across the face with one of your weapons.

You were hoping the attack would break skin, but all it does is turns the skin over his cheekbone dark red.

Faster than you can blink, he pins both your wrists with one of his hands above your head on the mattress, using the other hand to deftly pluck each spindle from your grip.

“I’ve done so much for you. I’ve given you a room, and a career, and so much more, and yet you attack me.” The wooden spindles hit the wall next to the door, his body lowers to yours in a way you know means more trouble.

“You’re a creep and a perv and I don’t want you to touch me! You’ve done nothing for me. Only for yourself.” In a way that would make any young boy proud to know you, you collect all the spit and bile in your mouth before shooting it into his face. Part of it hits him in the eye, causing him to roar in outrage.

He lets you go, giving you a brief moment of relief, but he only wipes away the loogey before rocking his hand back hard enough to crack against the side of your face. In your moment of disorientation, he flips you to your stomach and undoes the cuff from around your leg. The chain rings against the ground when he tosses it to the side.

His knee went to your back, his hands went to your waist, and the moment you manage to come back to yourself, your fingers clawed at whatever flesh you could find near you. You screamed and flailed as much as you could, the shooting pain of your leg barely noticeable when your body was in panic mode.

All you can think as that this is the kind of thing you read about. People don’t actually get kidnapped and rapped by people they knew in college. But you know that isn’t true either. You are the daughter of a detective, things like this were apart of your everyday life growing up. Just never as personal as you or a friend being the victim. For some reason that makes you fight harder, a sickly feelings creeping into your throat when you felt his fingers brush under the hem of your underwear.

Then a sound pulled you from your hysteria, the door fell to the ground and a swarm of FBI Agents descended upon the concrete basement you still refused to call ‘your room.’ Spencer was the last of them to enter, but the unadulterated fury in his eyes was enough to tell you that was not a decision on his part.

To you, and maybe even everyone else in the room who managed to look at him for longer than a millisecond, he looked like an avenging angel. Every chocolate caramel curl perfectly framed his face, which looked like it was carved out of stone. His jaw was so tense you could slice your finger if your ran it along the edge. The revolver in his hands was unwavering, only growing in steadiness when he caught compromising position you were in.

The sob that came out of your throat was one of relief. Harvey lifted you from the mattress, reaching into his pocket to pull out that damned pocket knife. He held you so close to his chest that it made your skin crawl.

“Harvey Morgensten, drop the weapon.” Morgan’s voice boomed around the room. Harvey held you with one arm tensed around the front of your shoulders and the other holding a knife to your neck.

“She’s mine! You weren’t supposed to be able to find us!” He screamed, you winced away from the shrilling pitch that scraped against the inside of your ear. It caused him to push the knife into the skin over your exposed collarbone, blood beading around the the metal tip. Your heart was hammering beneath your ribs, your hands flexing at your sides, your mind racing for a way to get out of this situation.

Spencer’s lip went up in a snarl, you half expected him to let a growl tear through his chest as if he was a lion standing against an enemy. The hairs on the back of your neck stood to attention when he took a hesitant step forward, his eyes softening for just a fraction of a second when he looks down at you.

In that fraction of a second all of his defenses fall and you can see all the grief and panic in the bags under his eyes and the raw skin of his bottom lip.

“She was never yours, Harvey.” Spencer says, wincing when Harvey responds by yanking you even closer than before. His breath is hot on your neck, his lips so close that they brush against the skin on the back of your shoulder when he speaks.

“She was never yours, Dr. Reid. She is mine, she always will be.” You cry out in surprise, your fingers coming up to scratch at the arm around your shoulders when a pair of teeth sink into the crook of your neck as if you were the victim of a vampire or something equally supernatural and territorial.

The action has the desired effect on every agent watching, especially Reid, who stumbles forward before Hotch grabs him by the back of his arm. They don’t have a shot, not without hurting you. That much you can tell just from the look they share. It doesn’t take a genius to look around and see that the end of every gun in the room is pierced right through you.

It makes you angry. You grind the back of your teeth together when a dark chuckles echoes from behind you. In your mind’s eye, you see it all happening the way you see a scene from a book playing before you like a movie.

Reaching up with one hand, you grab the onto the arm holding the knife. With the pad of your thumb, you shove every bit of strength you have into the soft skin at the inside of his wrist. At the same time, you pull your head forward before sending it reeling back onto his already broken nose. This time, you can feel the crunch of bones as your skull makes contact with his face.

Simultaneously, he drops the knife to the floor with a cry and drops his arms to reach for his gushing nose. Adrenaline pumping through your veins, you manage the couple of steps forward into Spencer’s arms. In a quick and graceful display of surprising strength, he carries you back into his embrace and spins around to shield you from the monster staggering back toward you.

Prentiss is quick to catch him in his blind pursuit for you, twisting both of his arms back without an ounce of sympathy for his pain. The jingle of handcuffs precede the finality of each click around his wrists.

“Everything I did, I did for you! I made your book come to life, I ruined the reputation of those girls, I did it all for you.” Harvey struggles against the restraints, twisting his body any way that he can to get a glimpse of you curled into Spencer’s chest.

You brain is caught between reality and a distant world, everything around you feels like make believe. Only the feeling of Spencer’s sweater curled into your fingers and his hand on the back of your head feels real. Harvey’s voice is like a recording being played three blocks away, still loud enough to hear but not close enough to focus on. He’s hissing threats and insults at Spencer’s back, that psycho-something in him finally snapping under the circumstances.

Somebody is yelling for a medic and there, just underneath it all, is the sound of someone wailing in such a way that words could never accurately describe the intense pain and grief being carried on every screaming sob. As the events from the last twelve hours come rushing back to you, reality takes the reins of your mind.

It’s you that’s crying like that. That desperate, broken sound is coming from your heaving chest. When your leg finally gives out from under you, the pain too much for your body to bare, he was already there holding you.

The screams fade into small shattered sobs just in time for medics to descend the stairs. Their hands are voices are everywhere, medical jargon flying over your head as they pry your hands from Spencer’s sweater. You pull back from every touch, the thoughts in your brain flying too fast for you to keep up.

It takes them a while to get you to the ambulance, but when they do you start to panic.

“Spencer?!” You cry out, unable to move your head too much due to the neck brace and head strap holding you down. It takes only a second for him to come into view, his eyes glassy and his smile watery. His hand slips into yours before they raise you up to the ambulance, your hand is icy to the touch.

The paramedics had mentioned a possible concussion, excessive blood loss, and signs of acute compartment syndrome. The fact that you had remained conscious and walking this long was a testament to your strong will and fighting spirit.

“Don’t leave me.” You whispered, the black around the edges of your vision creeping in despite how hard you fought it. Spencer almost winced from how hard you tightened the grip on his fingers. His mouth moved, but you never heard the response, your mind fading quickly with every second.

“Don’t leave.”

The sound of a heart monitor steadily beeping was what woke you up. Groaning from all the aches and pains that surged up with consciousness, your eyes fluttered open before squinting into the bright hospital lights.

Your mother was the first thing that popped into your field of vision. The last time she had looked at you with such worry, you’d been in the ER after flipping your car into a ditch. In your defense, it was dark and, as a young driver, you over corrected when you hit a patch of standing water.

“Mama?” You pushed up on the bed, the pillow behind your head falling to the space between your lower back and the mattress. Your mom was quick to pick it up and fluff it back behind your head. She must really be concerned. Had they found cancer while you were out or something?

“Oh my goodness, (Y/N), you had me so worried.” Gingerly, you pressed the heel of your hand to the bandage that stuck to your hair and the corner of your head. Brushing the butterfly stitches that went across the cut on your cheek, you barely had time to react before she pulled you into a breath-stealing hug.

The wound on your neck smarted with the movement and you hissed in pain. Your mom pulled back, squishing your cheeks between her hands as tears began to collect on her lower lash line. Your mother was not the type to cry, about really anything, as far as you knew of. So to see her tearing up like this only added to the confusion and shock you were already feeling.

“Never join law enforcement. I thought I wanted you to, but I can’t deal with this kidnapping and near-death nonsense. I’m getting too old for it.” She teased tenderly, releasing your face from the death grip of love to wipe away the tears before they fell down her cheeks.

“When did you get here?” You asked, taking note of all the wires and tubes that connected to your body via IVs and sticky pads. A glance down at your leg eased the fear that you might have sustained a leg wound that would take your leg from you. You didn’t move it for fear of the pain you could already feel throbbing to the beat of your heart.

The bed dipped under your mother’s weight as she sat beside you, gathering one of your hands into both of hers. Scars littered the knuckles that had wiped away your tears and taught you to throw punches.

“I only got here about an hour ago, but you’ve had round the clock protection from the FBI so no need to get panicky. I can see that look creeping into your eyes.” Her own eyes squint a little, those highly observant detective skills kicking in. She’s always been able to read you like an open book, making you wonder if she would have been good at profiling.

Of course she would have, your mother was good at everything she set her mind to.

“FBI?” You’re full of so many questions, but they all fall away when you mom shifts out of your line of sight to reveal the sleeping agent tucked away into the corner of the room.

Spencer is curled onto a hospital chair that is placed into a corner beside the window looking out over the parking lot. His back is leaned against the wall, one shoulder leaned against the back of the chair. One long leg is curled into the seat and the other is stretched out next to the chair. From across the room, you can see the shadows his eyelashes cast across his cheekbones in slumber. Oddly enough, your first thought is of Sleeping Beauty.

The sight is enough to make your heart feel like it’s squeezing around a ball of broken glass. Before your mother can read too much into the mixture of emotions that, surely, skew your features, you look away.

“He’s been here since they brought you in. I met his team, they’re a fine group of agents. You didn’t tell me you were friends with anyone in the FBI.” Before she can say anything else, you clear your throat. Putting one hand, a little dramatically, to your chest you give your mother a look you haven’t used since you were a kid trying to stay home from school.

“Mama, I’m a little hungry. Can you get me something to eat?” It works like a charm. You’ve never seen your mother jump so quickly before, she races out the door like a woman on a mission. It warms your aching heart.

“Maybe you should have tried acting.” Spencer’s voice is groggy with sleep as he sits up and stretches into awareness.

“How long have you been awake?” He meets your gaze, his expression soft and earth-shaking. When you imagined seeing Spencer wake up first thing in the morning, it was never in a hospital room while feelings of betrayal and confusion stabbed into your chest.

“Just long enough to hear your mom talk about my team. She’s a nice lady.” He doesn’t move from the chair, sensing the tension in the room the way only a profiler can. He’s afraid that if he gets up, you’ll make him leave. He doesn’t need to know that he’s right.

“How long have I been out?” You’re asking every question except the one you’ve been dying to ask.

“A day. You had a pretty bad concussion and acute compartment syndrome in your leg. They weren’t sure you were going to be able to retain control of the muscle given how long you were kept hostage with it untreated, but I know you’re too stubborn to let that happen.” The silence that follows is stifling, your eyes interlocked in a battle of wills.

Was this the same man that had accused you of being a serial killer?

You’re the first to look away, fidgeting with a fray string from the blanket thrown over your legs.

“I think we need some time apart.”

“I’m so incredibly sorry.” You both speak at the same time, but your words drain the blood from Spencer’s face when they finally register. He had hoped that, by some miracle, you would forgive him of the unforgivable sin he had committed against you in the name of justice. He understood why you didn’t.

“I just,” The threads of the blanket you recognize from your childhood bedroom bump underneath your fingers when you smooth your hand over it, “I want to forgive you. But all I keep thinking is that none of this would have happened to me if you had used all those brains in your head instead of all the insecurities in you heart.”

It’s like a slap across the face, and yet Spencer can’t help but feel like he deserves it. Even still, none of it hurts as much as the crack in your voice and the tears that you try so desperately to blink away before he can see them.

It isn’t often that Spencer Reid is rendered speechless, but the guilt and heartache have stolen all the words of every language and all the breath from the air right out of his mouth.

“It’s still so fresh in my mind, I think if we distance ourselves then we’ll be able to come back to something rather than trying to scramble to bridge together the chasm that has formed between us.”

He wants to argue, everything in him screams that he needs to fight for you, but the look in your eyes stops him. If you need space, then space is what he will give you. Spencer would do anything to make this right. He wishes he had the intelligence and technology to build a time machine and go back to two mornings ago.

“I understand,” he says solemnly, trying to talk around the hurt in his chest that is growing like a tumor. “But I promised I wouldn’t leave you. I’ll give you space, but I’m only giving you the space of the wall between this room and the hallway.”

And then he’s gone, staying true to his word and sinking to the floor outside your room. When you mother comes back, holding a collection of jellos and cookies and granola bars from the hospital cafeteria, her steps falter at the sight of the young doctor outside your door.

Inside you’re curled into yourself, taking very deliberate breaths into the cotton stuffed pillow you have buried into your chest. You half expect your heart monitor to be screaming for the nurses, but despite a small quickening in the constant beeps, it gives away none of your heartbreak.

“(Y/N)?” You look up, meeting your mothers eyes with tear stained cheeks. Your head is going to be throbbing later, but for now you’re only focused on the sharp pains shooting through your ribs and clouding every other pain in your body.

Between one gasp of air and the next, your mother drops all the foods to the chair vacated by Spencer before rushing to pull you into her arms.

“Can you die from a broken heart?” You whimper, feeling like a small child as you bury your head into her chest. She smells like home, running her hand over the back of your head with gentle shushing sounds.

Outside, Spencer wipes at his own tears, a silent statue of sadness protecting you from everything but himself.

[miss-kittys-magical-library]

60. “have you always been this beautiful?” + 68. “You owe me a kiss.” for sean/reader plssss?

Glitter in The Air (Sean X Reader)

A/N: This is just pure Sean Falco bubble gum cotton candy fluff just for Joz ☺️☺️😍

You held your finger above the mouse and debated which road to take:

Add him. It's only been four years, but he's bound to remember you.

Forget it. It’s been four years, how would he ever remember you?!

Without a second thought you clicked add friend on the Facebook name “SeanFalco92.” You typed out a little note just in case.

Hey, Sean.

I'm sorry about what happened at the University. You're a bit infamous. Not every day the quiet Irishman gives it to the campus police. That fire hydrant was ugly anyways.

Y/N, The Dark Room Princess

Then you switched off the internet to prevent yourself from nervously checking every ten minutes to see a response. So you poured yourself a cup of coffee and put your headphones in. It was gonna be an all-nighter on your grad school thesis.

Your computer made a loud ping noise that startled you from sleep you didn't realize you had fallen into. You raised your head and looked at the time “11am.” Thank God, still a few hours until you had to turn in your thesis. Then you were free to never worry about university again, until the loans rolled in. You groaned.

Still you adjusted yourself and your glasses to read the message that had come up alongside the friend request acceptance.

Hey! Yeah it's totally been awhile. How have you been? I felt the wrath of my parents when they bailed me out. Due for a bit of community payback for a few months. Sorry “Service.” Next time I won't get nicked.

Not quite sure about the dark room reference, but was thinking you should meet me at the carnival on Friday. I know I shouldn't be on campus, but I had tickets before everything went down. Care to be my reason for still showing my face after all that humiliation?

Sean

You shook your head and laughed. He definitely didn't remember you, and you weren't exactly sure what he was up to. Who turns down an opportunity to spend the night with Sean Falco?

You took your time replying. Showering. Eating lunch. Printing your thesis and assembling it. Not wanting to appear eager in your reply. He pinged again.

You there? It looked like you were online. Sorry, didn't mean to appear so needy or forward. I just thought it’d be nice to be reacquainted.

You cocked an eyebrow, cheeks flushed a bit and finally returned a response.

Yeah. I would like that. I live in the Madison apartments. Get to Union station (I'm guessing you lost your license?) and we’ll take the Gold Line back to campus. See you at 7.

Sean's comeback was immediate.

It's a date!

Your face grew even hotter. Fuck, it's a date.

-----

You couldn't help but be nervous as you paced around the front steps of your apartment complex. You felt confident in the cute outfit you rushed out and bought impulsively. Or how you bit the bullet and got your hair done too after you delivered your thesis. You claimed it was in celebration of the rest of your life and nothing to do with the tall, lanky Irishman now headed your way.

“Sean!” a bit startled as you turned around in his direction.

Curly hair a bit wild, his jeans looking industrial but you knew they weren't bought that way. The purple tee-shirt he wore somehow made his leafy green eyes positively stunning. His hand was outstretched with a flower held towards you.

“T’ought I might go a bit old-fashioned t’night,” you took the --- from him. “Maybe a bit o’ congratulations for finishing your t’esis paper.”

Glad your hair covered your ears because you knew the tips were bright red. You never remembered his lilt being that strong or noticeable. Maybe for some strange reason it was his nerves too?

“A Peony? Sean, these are my favorites! How’d you know?” you smelled it briefly before you tucked it away behind your ear. Pleasantly surprised. “Thank you.”

“I may have creeped around your photos a bit, hope ye don't mind?” Sean raised his hands and crinkled one of his eyes shut.

“This is my first flower from anyone, so I'll take some light stalking in the meantime. We should hurry though, the train leaves in ten minutes.”

The two of you side by side. You sat turned to face him, back towards the window of the car. Sean faced forward and stole sideways glances while you talked.

“So what does a young lady with a Masters in Art History do fer livin?”

“I want to restore old paintings at the Met in New York, but I'll probably be stuck here in Portland till I'm thirty. What about you, think you can bypass a degree and still be a photojournalist? Maybe and Irish Ansel Adams?”

Sean laughed, “How did you know any of that?” He looked directly at you with a gleam in his eyes.

“You really don't remember me do you?”

You took a chance and slid your hand into his to prevent him from picking at a loose thread in his shirt. Sean easily enclosed it without hesitation.

“Mostly!” Cheek hidden in his smile. “I just thought something about ye clicked in my brain. Can't figure out why, but was hopin’ going out with ye would jog my mind. Is t’at ok?”

There was no time to answer. Soon enough you were back on campus. You talked Sean into some french fries and corn dogs before tugging at his hand excitedly.

“Ok, the Ferris Wheel! Let's do that first? We should be able to see downtown, and it'll be dusk by the time we get on.”

Sean hesitated as his eyes glanced up towards the top. A flash of nerves behind his eyes, but he gave up and shrugged. Obediently following you in line while he ate, a bit sullen.

Surely the guy who just fought a fire hydrant and a cop wouldn't be scared of heights, you thought. Then you flashed back to that day Freshman year and Sean's panicked voice in the dark. His ragged breath and palms that sweat through your tee shirt as he held onto your shoulders.

You shoved a cheese fry in your mouth as the line staggered forward slow and steady. The conversation had died quite suddenly, but you knew you had to take the chance. Cheesy romantic comedy as this all was, who doesn't want to be with a hot guy alone stuck on a ride?

“Uh y/n?” The giggle was back in Sean’s voice now as you broke from your reverie. “You've got some..” His thumb swiped at the corner of your mouth before he lifted it to his own. “Cheese.”

“Thank.. you?” The tension was silent and awkward.

Then, as the two of you simply stared at each other, Sean let out a sound somewhere between a strangled laugh and a snort. It was infectious, and you instantly joined in. That type of laughter you aren't sure how people achieve, but it leaves you breathless and annoying to everyone in your sight.

“I don't know.. why..I licked.. my thumb,” he wheezed around the most childlike giggle. “It was like a weird compulsion.” The way he said the word came out like “way-rd,” and instigated more laughter from deep inside you.

It seemed to ease Sean’s apprehension as the two of you began to board the ride, though. A calm coming over him as you both quieted down. He white-knuckled the bar as it clicked into place over your laps. Eyes wide as it lurched into motion.

You brushed your fingers tentatively over his clenched fist. Sean had a glazed look in his eyes as you slowed and stopped multiple times. You inches towards the top. He really was frightened.

“I've just gotta get over this. I'm confronting my fear is all.” He sounded so serious with a hint of pride, you stifle a chuckle with a bite of a lip.

Sean peered slightly over the edge of the car and looked downwards. Then it halted suddenly and he grabbed your hand and covered it with his massive one. You squirmed around to hold it properly as he squeezed his eyes shut. The car swung back and forth a bit on the precarious side, even for you. One last time, and it would start spinning in its giant lackadaisical circle.

Forward. Pitch to a stop even harder than the last few. This time Sean buried his face in your shoulder, and you relished this surprising role-reversal. But then he looked up at you in the most serious manner.

“Have you always been this beautiful?”

At the same exact time you said:

“First claustrophobia now heights”

You both sat up straight and gaped.

Again simultaneously.

“How d’ye know I'm claustrophobic?!”

“Did you just call me pretty?”

For the moment, Sean was no longer afraid. Your sentiment about his fear distracted him long enough that he loosened up immensely. Long fingers scratched at his mess of curls while deep in thought. Your eyebrows knit together in confusion, heart beating wildly in your ears.

Sean tugged at his chin with a forefinger and thumb. Obviously deep in thought as he gazed off into the sky. It was like a lightbulb finally popped on over his head.

“Jesus (jaysus) Dr Bacher’s photography course. Freshman year!”

You smiled, “By Jove I think he's got it!”

“T’at’s how ye know me. We got right stuck in that darkroom door. It was like a pitch-black tube really. Man I bloody well panicked.”

“I thought you were screwing with me at first! Your hands were so sweaty my tee-shirt was wet from where you were groping me. I kept thinking how every single girl in our class would've killed our professor to be stuck with the hot Irish guy. All that heavy breathing, my teenage brain thought it was sexual tension.”

“I was 18 wedged in a small space with a cute girl. It was claustrophobia, but it was also sexy.”

You bit the inside of your cheek and smiled. The two of you ignoring the ride and it's slow rotations. Still holding hands.

“I don't think I imagined that..” you struggled with the next line.. “parts of you were totally poking into me.”

Sean's mouth dropped open but he repeated his prior sentiment. A bit higher pitched. “I WAS 18 IN A SMALL SPACE WITH A HOT GIRL!” His lilt was more pronounced.

“Who gets a fear.. boner,” you rolled back into the hysterics from earlier on the ground.

Sean's face a deep crimson as his mouth tightened into a straight line. He looked away, but you knew he was playing along. Those eyes betrayed him with a hint of a smile.

“You told me if I got us out you’d take me on a date.”

“I said I'd kiss ye if we got out alive. Never knew how long it’d be til someone found us.”

“You did!” you agreed excitedly. “The door just needed hoisted up and back on the track. Which I did! Then we stumbled out and I practically threw myself in your arms for that kiss.”

“Wait, did we?” Sean turned back to you as the Ferris wheel slowed to another stop. Neither of you remembered it moving.

“No. Stupid ass Derek Sandoval was in the classroom waiting for you.”

“Oi! Watch now, he's still my mate.” Sean's turn to tease now.

“I bet he is.”

The two of you sat back in the car. Your fingers still entwined but the fright had melted away. Sean let out a long steady breath as he really looked out on the carnival and the multicolored lights as they danced around you. The stars blanketed the sky.

“Sean?”

His face heavenwards. “Yeah y/n?

“I think you owe me a kiss,” your words soft, almost a whisper.

Sean’s gaza came back down from the clouds. The music and noise from the crowds seemed to fade away as your breath caught in your throat. Without a second thought, he let go of your hand and put his arm around you. That soft mouth leaned over and almost melted with yours. Your bodies enveloped in a hug as Sean slid the tip of his tongue between your lips. Your own darted forward to fight with it.

Then the car hulked into motion again and you broke apart. A smirk on Sean's face revealed a dimple, and you joined in with a grin of your own.

“Well, that was worth a four year wait.”

Tag list: @joz-stankovich @robertsheehanownsmyass @magic-multicolored-miracle @elliethesuperfruitlover

[yelenasdog]

il un a visage gentil (prof!gwilym lee x prof! gn reader)

genre: fluff

summary: who knew the attractive english lit professor also happened to speak french? not his new coworker, that’s for sure.

words: 1.7k

warnings: reader embarassing herself a lil bit, that’s it :)

a/n: hi!! first of all, no pronouns are used as this is from readers pov, so anyone can read. second of all, so i typically don’t write for gwil, but i had this idea in french the other day when my french teacher (sweet old french man who deserves better LMAODSJO) was going over some assignment that for some reason had il un a visage gentil in it LOLOL. that being said, i obvi don’t speak fluent french and this is all fictional! love u, hope u enjoy!!

。·☔︎◎❦·。·

“Hello everyone, and welcome to your first day. I’m Dr Gwilym Lee, and I am the head of the English Literature Department here at Oxford University. Feel free to call me Gwil, it’s what all my students do.”

I slanted my eyes from my position at the door, gripping the frame just a tad tighter than I had been before hearing his voice. I continued to listen to the doctor talk as I made my way behind the last row of seats in the lecture room, trying not to make any noise. My heels were thankfully mute against the carpet, not drawing any attention towards me, the professor keeping complete focus on his students.

“One of the first things I wanted to kind of, um, touch on, is that I will be quite flexible. I understand that you have lives, as do I. As long as I can see an honest effort being put into my class, I will hold no repercussions for late work or being physically late to class.”

With that, he looked up to where I had just sat down, quirking a brow. The eye contact was momentary, only lasting what seemed to be a second, if that.

I cleared my throat, looking to my feet.

“We at the english department are quite proud of our status, ranking 4th in english programs overall in the UK. Now I won’t continue to bore you with the statistics, but-“

I made a scan of the room, seeing how only 1 or 2 pupils were actually listening, the rest either slumped over looking at their phones, or pretending to take notes on a laptop while really watching netflix. (More than one student was watching gossip girl, oddly enough.)

Considering it was only 5 minutes into the hour long lecture, I was confused, as he was holding my attention, at least, quite well.

After about 30 minutes, I realized that my own “first day lecture” was in 15 minutes, which assured that I most definitely had to leave. I was saddened by this (even though I had only even planned on staying in Gwil’s room for a small while.

I sighed quietly, picking myself up from the surprisingly comfortable seats and making my way towards the door. Just as I was about to go, I felt eyes boring holes into the back of my head. I turned, realizing Gwilym to be the perp. I opened my mouth to speak and then closed it again, quickly walking out and down the hallway to my own room.

I made it in, hurrying down the many stairs, past where a few students were waiting.

“Hi, everyone, I’ll just be a few moments, just waiting for the rest of your new classmates to arrive.”

I smiled briefly, before slamming my office door audibly, chest heaving with my back against the shaded window. I closed my eyes, unaware of why I had been so panicked by the brief interaction, not to mention the butterflies it hatched in my stomach.

After giving myself some time to decompress, I exhaled, smoothing out the skirt of my dress and rotating. I placed a hand on the handle, preparing myself for the fresh faced freshman.

As I opened the door, I heard half a knock, before whoever was behind the door (poor soul) essentially fell on top of me.

Expecting to see a red faced pupil who had just made a very interesting first impression, I looked up, suddenly becoming the one with a warm and itchy wave of embarrassment making its way up my neck.

“I’m so terribly sorry,” He stood up, reaching out a hand. I hesitated before reaching forward and gripping tightly, allowing him to tug me up.

“It’s alright, Gwil, really.”

He opened his mouth (not that I was paying any mind to his lips), presumably to ask my name. Before he got the chance, I beat him to it, blurting out my full title, unfortunately in a quite awkward way.

The students that had gathered had mostly turned their attention elsewhere by now, only a few of them still watching the live disaster that was my interaction with the incredibly attractive man in front of me.

He spoke up as I tried to maneuver my way around him to the podium positioned in the front of the room where my laptop was waiting.

“Well, I had assumed you were a student who was trying to sneak off early, but I stand corrected, then.” He looked around my slowly filling space, a slight amusement hiding in his gaze.

“Yes, sorry, I had caught you at a bad time, I was hoping to introduce myself, you know, trying to make a good impression. Feels like the first day of school all over again.” I laughed, bringing a hand up to brush away a stray strand that had somehow managed to escape my bun.

“It’s alright, don’t stress about it. And trust me, I get it. New jobs are scary.”

I huffed, looking out at the sea of judgmental young people that I now would have to face after that fiasco. Lovely.

“You could say that again.”

We sat in a comfortable silence for a short amount of time, the clock striking 2:30 being what woke me from my trance.

“That’s my queue.” I gave a small wave as he walked off, a smile spreading across his face at the motion.

I turned to my teaching assistant, fully believing he was out of earshot.

“Il un a visage gentil, eh?”

She only laughed, nodding her head and plugging in my macbook, allowing the screen to come alive with a flurry of colors in my powerpoint.

“Hi guys! Or should I say bonjour!” I paused, receiving a few chuckles in the crowd.

“I’m sorry for getting us started so late, I had a small mishap. I’m Dr Y/n Y/l/n, and I am your professor this year in the French undergraduate course, where you will have the opportunity to study medieval literature, modern day linguistics, and much more, which I will get into later on.

 We here at Oxford have the single largest French department in Britain, which we have come to have extreme pride in. We also have a french cultural center, where you will find a large selection of programmes and literature to choose from. If you haven’t yet checked it out yet,” I briefly looked up, seeing Gwilym still stood at the top of the stairs. He gave me another small smile, crossing his arms.

“Sorry, lost my place. Where was I?”

-

After class, I walked up to where the tall man had now moved to the side, allowing students to flood right by him.

“Gwil, hi!”

“Hi to yourself.”

I blushed, the feeling of fuzzy-ness once again flooding my entire system at just the brief statement. Odd. Extremely odd.

“That was very nice, I have a feeling this class will be quite popular in the coming years.”

I smiled and nodded my head. “Thank you, I appreciate it, truly. Although, I must say that I can tell everyone is racing to get a spot in Professor Gwilym Lee’s class 100% percent.”

He cocked his head, slimming his eyes.

“Really, you think so?”

We continued to walk down the long hallway, neither of us quite aware of where we happened to be going.

“Oh for sure, I can imagine you’re especially popular with a certain demographic, too.”

His confusion seemed to only grow, stormy blue eyes seemingly lost.

“What do you mean by that, exactly?” His voice slightly raised an octave at the end, earning a chuckle from me.

“Look, all I’m saying is that with looks like that, I bet your roster was full in seconds.”

I paused, the flow of conversation stopping as I came to terms with what I had just accidentally said. Out loud. In front of my new coworker, who happens to be incredibly gorgeous. A wonderful first day I’m having.

We resumed walking, a blanket of complete silence falling upon us all the way until we reached the entrance to the facility.

The chilly December air hit my face immediately, as well as droplets of rain that were falling so hard it felt like small bullets were grazing my nose, which I could barely feel after just a few moments outside.

“Here.” Gwil muttered, pulling out a bright red umbrella and using it to shield us both from the angry pellets sent from above.

“Ah, thank you.”

“Of course.”

Then it was quiet again between us both, minus the sounds of chattering students and the rain hitting and then sliding off of our cover, coming in contact with the ground with a final splat.

“You know,” Gwilym began, always the one to break the silence.

I hummed, turning my head in his direction.

“I speak a little bit of French, as well. And I think you also have a nice face.” He nudged my elbow and laughed, while I closed my eyes and sighed, hanging my head.

“So there really isn’t any other way I could possibly embarrass myself right now, is there?”

He only shrugged, scratching the back of his head. “Actually, now that I think of it, there might be one more thing I can think of?”

“What would that be?”

“Saying no to a cup of coffee?”

It was like I froze over completely, my mind suddenly growing blank when I needed it mostt.

“With me?” I asked, the question more aimed towards myself, a miniscule act of reassurance and affirmation.

Gwilym smiled brightly as he shook his head, and I swear, I had never seen anything more amazing.

“Yes, Y/n, with you.”

I stuttered, embarrassed for what seemed like the millionth time that day, specifically at my lack of verbal skills.

“Yes, yes of course, that sounds amazing.”

“Then what are we waiting for?”

He offered me an arm which I gladly took, and we started walking to the quaint campus cafe just across the street from our building.

It was the same cafe where (not that we knew it yet) the both of us would make many late night coffee runs together during midterms week, the stressful time growing to become one of our favorites as it was now filled with giggles and caffeine. 

Usually it would end up with one of us, that one of us usually being me, leaving a ring of coffee on the other’s ungraded assignments. Or even better, spilling an entire drink on the paper, only a “sorry!” written in Gwil’s rushed handwriting at the top of the curiously scented paper as explanation.

But as I said, we didn’t know that yet.

。·☔︎◎❦·。·

kinda gross but whatevs, like and rb if u did indeed enjoy it. mwah, go eat some protein, take an electronics break and drink some water. love u 

xx hj

[crystalstar8]

Knights of the Night (ch 7)

Chapter 7

Ch 1, ch 2, ch 3, ch 4, ch 5, ch 6, ch 7

https://archiveofourown.org/works/29139240/chapters/71536491

pairing: Jungkook x oc

genre: vampire au, college au, twilight, romance

word count: 1,367

warnings: blood (obviously), kidnapping, child kidnapping, needles, France

notes: vampires, vampire au, college, college au, so many twilight references, blood, needles, kidnapping, children, homelessness, dance, ballet, flashbacks, romance, slow burn, probably no smut, idk yet tho, France, French things, attempted genocide, inaccurate French history, bisexual main character, @strawberriewithchocolate-blog @mozy-j  @daechwitad-2​ @zobadak​​

summary: Catalina starts college in a small town all the way across the country. She doesn’t know anyone and isn’t exactly looking for friends. She just wants to focus on dance. But when she meets fellow dance major, Jimin, and adventurous, fellow freshman, Jungkook, Catalina ends up discovering a whole new side to the small college town; one that is dangerous but oh so enticing…

              After they had shown the ghost hunting documentary at game night, which everyone had loved, Jungkook declared that he was thirsty and was going on a hunt for beverages. That’s how Catalina found herself searching the front of the house for the garage with him, since Taehyung said, “There’s soda pop in the garage refrigerator.”

               They ended up in a back kitchen, which connected to a mudroom, which led them to the garage. The garage was filled with ancient looking equipment and a tractor so rusty, Catalina figured she could shatter it with a good tap.

               “Here they are!” Jungkook said, facing two refrigerators against the wall.

               “Which one is for the soda pop?” asked Catalina. Jungkook opened both at once. The one on the left was filled with pop, beer and a single head of moldy broccoli. The other was filled with…

               “What do you want? Coke?” Jungkook asked, closing the other fridge and reaching into left one.

               “Wait, what was in that other fridge?” asked Catalina. She opened the one on the right. Blood bags. It was filled with blood bags. They both gasped.

               “The secret soda pop,” Jungkook whispered. Catalina slapped his arm.

               “Jungkook! Why do they have these?” she asked. Jungkook shook his head.

               “I don’t know. Maybe one of them is a doctor or something?” he said.

               “Probably not,” Catalina thought for a moment. “Not a word about this to anyone. We’ll discuss it later. Let’s just go enjoy game night. We probably shouldn’t stay the night though. Just in case.”

               “Right. Got it. So, coke?” he asked, pulling an entire case of coke out of the left fridge.

               “Yeah, coke is good,” Catalina nodded.

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

               Later that night, Catalina sat up in bed on her laptop, unable to fall asleep. She just couldn’t stop thinking about what she saw in that fridge. She opened Google on her laptop and typed in “vampires”. Most of the sites that came up were about vampire novels or movies. She typed in “vampire history” instead. This gave her a bit more. There were tales about bloodsucking monsters all over the world. In Europe, they were considered demons or witches. There were many names for them throughout the middle east and Asia, but all the stories had the same few things in common: red eyes, superhuman speed and strength, unnatural beauty, and the need to drink human blood.

Catalina closed her laptop and sat against the wall, since her mattress was still on the floor against the wall. She had seen enough. Catalina knew what she needed to do.

 ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

The front door looked less intimidating than it did the first time Catalina had laid eyes on the house, but her heart still pounded in her chest as she raised a hand to knock. She waited a few seconds before the door opened. It was Namjoon. Catalina’s heart stuttered. God damn, he is so beautiful…

“Oh, hi!” he said. “What are you doing out so late? Not that I mind seeing you- I mean…”

Catalina giggled and momentarily forgot why she was here. Namjoon scratched the back of his head.

“Um, anyway, come on in,” he said.

“I was actually wondering if we could go for a walk,” said Catalina. Namjoon nodded and stepped outside, closing the door behind him. He led Catalina into the woods on the cobblestone path.

“Is there something you wanted to talk about?” he asked as they strolled side by side. Catalina felt her heartrate pick up again.

“I know what you are,” she said. Namjoon stopped and faced her.

“What do you mean?” he asked.

“Don’t play dumb Namjoon. I know what you are,” said Catalina. The confusion melted from his face, replaced with an intense gaze.

“Say it,” said Namjoon.

“You have blood red eyes, and all of you are unnaturally beautiful. I haven’t seen it, but I bet you have superhuman strength and speed,” said Catalina. “I saw the fridge in the garage. It was filled with blood bags.”

“Say it,” Namjoon said again. “Out loud.”

“Vampire.”

“Are you afraid?”

“I know you won’t hurt me,” Catalina said, looking up at him.

“You know the risk, and yet, you still want to see us,” he said.

“You’re not a killer.”

“I’m a predator, Catalina. Everything about me is meant to draw you in. You couldn’t outrun me if you tried, and you certainly couldn’t fight me,” said Namjoon.

“Namjoon. I don’t care. You and your friends have been nothing but kind to us. I’ve seen you all and none of you seem like you want to drink our blood,” said Catalina.

Namjoon scoffed and said, “You have no idea how much I’d like to taste your blood. You smell…irresistible.”

Catalina blushed. “Can you stop? Once you’ve had a taste?”

“What?”

“I mean, if you were to drink from me, would you be able to control yourself before you took too much?” Catalina asked. She couldn’t believe what she was saying. She was playing with fire, but the thought of it made her a bit dizzy with anticipation. Her blush was hot all the way down her neck.

Namjoon stared at her and said, “You can’t be serious.”

Catalina shrugged and brushed her hair off her shoulder, baring her neck. Namjoon smirked and shook his head. Catalina’s flush turned to one of embarrassment.

“I’m not drinking from you,” Namjoon said. “I’m old enough to control myself, but what if I wasn’t? A younger vampire wouldn’t have turned you down either.”

Catalina sighed and said, “Sorry, I don’t know why I asked that.”

“It’s okay,” Namjoon said. They continued walking.

“So, vampires are real?” Catalina asked. Namjoon nodded. “Are other things real? Like werewolves and demons?”

               “Werewolves are real, but you probably won’t ever meet one,” Namjoon explained. “They tend to live off the grid and the ones who don’t are hunted pretty relentlessly by the Pack Hunters. Also, demons[PG1]  aren’t real. Religion is a human based concept that holds no truth.”

               “So, crucifixes don’t repel you or anything?” Catalina asked. Namjoon laughed and said no. “Cool, wait who are the Pack Hunters?”

               “The Pack Hunters are an organization that hunts werewolves,” he said. “They say that they’re protecting society but most of the time, the people they hunt are harmless, just trying to live peacefully. It is a problem in the werewolf community. Werewolves can no longer live in packs like they used to. They’ve been on the run for so long, it’s basically every man for himself.”

               “That’s terrible,” said Catalina. She had so many questions buzzing through her head and she didn’t know where to start. She supposed what she was most curious about was what lore was true and what wasn’t. “Do you have fangs?”

               Namjoon flashed a toothy smile, showing off sharp fangs. Catalina gasped.

               “I didn’t notice those on any of you guys before!” she said.

               “That’s because we didn’t want you to notice,” said Namjoon.

               “Can you be killed with a wooden stake?” asked Catalina.

               “No.”

               “Does silver hurt you?”

               “Yes, it just burns a bit.”

               “Can you enter a place before being invited in?”

               “It’s not the polite thing to do, but technically yes.

               “Do you burn up in sunlight?”

               “Not exactly, we’re just more susceptible to really bad sunburns.”

               “Are you actually immortal?”

               “Yes.”

               “How old are you?” Catalina asked.

               “Twenty-three.”

               “How long have you been twenty-three?”

               A pause. “A while. Catalina, I’d love to stay out and answer your questions, but don’t you have class tomorrow morning?” asked Namjoon.

               “Do you need sleep?” she asked. Namjoon sighed.

               “No, I can sleep but I don’t need to. I’m pretty sure it’s nearing two in the morning,” he said.

               “You’re right, you’re right. I’m sorry for bombarding you with questions,” said Catalina. They stepped off the trail and Catalina didn’t even realize they had made their way back to the house.

               “No, it’s okay,” said Namjoon. “I never mind spending time with you.”

               Catalina blushed again.

               “I like spending time with you too,” Catalina mumbled, playing with the ends of her hair.

               “I’ll drive you home. Someone recently went missing in this town, you shouldn’t be out at night alone,” he said.

.

.

.

(Happy Valentine’s Day everyone!!!)

[starbuckie]

Some Quarantine Lovin’ Chapter 2: Going Home

Marvel Highschool! AU

Pairing: Bucky x Reader

Warnings: Obscene amounts of fluff, kissing, swearing, kinda a lot of angst

Description: Bucky Barnes is absolutely, no doubt about it, in love with Y/N L/N. He’s loved her since the day he laid eyes on her in the third grade. He loved her when he had his own girlfriend, and when he was barely friends with her for a whole summer. And of course, in his freshman year, they are now stuck together. In a house. During a worldwide quarantine. This should be fun.

Words: 2,130 words

A/N: I am here with Chapter 2! I’m sorry that it’s short, but I think that I’m gonna have a lot of chapters with a smaller amount of words. Also, I’ve been thinking about opening asks so I can write drabbles if people request them. I don’t really know, but if anyone wants it, I’m all in to do it. And, of course, thank you to my amazing friend @transparentfestivaltiger​ for editing and reading this beforehand (go check out her series Doll, its freaking awesome). Thank you so much for reading and enjoy <3

The end of the day was very emotional. Students ran around the courtyard and halls, hugging each other, tears running out of their eyes. After all, they didn’t know how long it would be until they saw each other again. Sitting at a table, Steve, Bucky, and Y/N had joined up with Natasha, Wanda, and Sam. Bucky and Y/N had told the group their news, and they were really happy for them. “Y’know,” Sam whispered to Bucky, “if you’re staying in her room you might be able to get a chance to get a little action.”

Bucky’s eyes widened and flush took over his face. “What the hell, Sam?” Bucky slapped him, “That’s so messed up. How can you say something so crude?”

“Alright, alright, I’m sorry. But seriously, you now have this huge opportunity to tell her, and if you don’t, I swear to God I will whoop your ass into 2035. She’s been waiting on you for six years, it’s about goddamn time.”

Steve grimaced and nodded. “While I wouldn’t phrase it like our sweet Sam over here did,” Sam smiled cheekily, “I agree with what he’s saying. Go get your girl, Buck.” 

Bucky rolled his eyes, but smiled at his two friends. “Thanks for the pep talk, guys, I just don’t want to ruin this.”

Sam and Steve rolled their eyes. “James Barnes,” Sam started, “do you really not see the absolute buffoonery going on between you two? Y/N clearly loves you back. Y’all have been glued together by the hip since third grade, and don’t even get me started on how she looked at you when you wore a suit to the winter formal. She looked like she was ready to jump your bones.” Bucky blushed once again and looked down at the ground.

Steve sighed. “Look, we aren’t gonna force you into anything. But one day she’s gonna get picked up by someone else, and when that happens, I know for a fact that you’re gonna regret it. You two have practically dating for six years-”

“With the exception of Dot.” Sam interjected.

“With the exception of Dot. Also, if ‘ruining’ your friendship is what you’re worried about, then you should know that Y/N is one of the sweetest people on the planet, and she wouldn’t do anything to hurt you, even if you get turned down. But I doubt it’ll come to that.” All three boys glanced to the other end of the bench where the girls sat. Y/N was braiding Natasha’s hair, and Wanda sat on the ground, animatedly telling a story about something that happened in her English class. 

Bucky focused on Y/N. Her nimble fingers made quick work of twisting the redhead’s hair into a perfect French braid, her nails painted with a light pink. She wore a black pencil skirt and a jean jacket, and it was a change from her normal hoodie and leggings she usually wore, and Bucky thought she looked gorgeous. Her lips were stretched in a bright smile and her nose scrunched up. Y/N always hated her laugh, saying that it was more of a wheeze than anything else, but as cliché as it sounded, her laugh was like a breath of fresh air, when he didn’t even know he was drowning. 

Steve and Sam glanced at each other and smirked, realizing Bucky was once again, staring at Y/N. She realized as well, as she yelled, “Hey, Buck, enjoying the view?” He blushed even harder if that was possible, and she giggled. Natasha and Wanda joined in, knowing how lovestruck their friends were. 

After Y/N tied off Natasha’s hair, she walked over to the end of the table where the boys were and leaned her head on Bucky’s shoulder. “You ready to go, Buckaroo?” She asked with a grin. He rolled his eyes at the old nickname, but he honestly adored it when she called him that. He took her hand in his, and stood up, not even noticing Y/N’s smile grow wider. 

“Ready as I’ll ever be.” He looked over at his friends and smiled. 

Natasha checked the watch on her wrist. “We all better get going, they’re closing campus in fifteen minutes.” The six friends said goodbye to each other, tearing up because they didn’t know when they would see each other again. Y/N gave Wanda and Natasha huge hugs, with promises to FaceTime every night and Netflix party. 

“Y/N, for the last goddamn time, I swear I will not forget about you.” The Sokovian girl had been dealing with Y/N’s dramatics for years, but Wanda knew she would miss it during the quarantine. As she pulled her friend back into a tight embrace, she whispered, “God, you better tell Barnes how you feel or I’ll strangle you in your sleep with my powers.” The two girls laughed about the running joke that they had, concerning Wanda and her “powers”. Whenever Wanda went somewhere with them, something unfortunate had happened to them, such as falling down a hill or banging their knee on a table. Natasha had claimed that Wanda was a witch, and three years later they still bugged her with it. 

Natasha kissed Y/N on the cheek, knowing that they would be okay. “I love you, Y/N, be smart and give us daily updates.”

Y/N snorted. “Okay, mom.” She went to join Bucky again, grabbing his hand again. Sam and Steve stood there, and she gave them each a one-armed hug as a goodbye. “I’m going to miss you two dumbasses a whole lot.” 

“We’re gonna miss you too, girly.” Sam said with an easy smile. “Call us whenever you and Bucky aren’t busy being idiots in love.” Y/N blushed, and Bucky glared and hit him in the head. She hastily dropped his hand and completely missed the expression of hurt on Bucky’s face. 

Steve felt uncomfortable tension and broke in the conversation. “Y/N, take good care of Buck and Becca, okay?”

Y/N gave a small smile.”I wouldn’t dream of doing anything else. Talk to you soon.” With a final wave to the rest of their friends, the two friends walked away to go to Bucky’s house.

“Do you wanna take the shortcut to your house, Buck?” Y/N was determined to get Bucky and Becca to her house as fast as possible. Rain started to fall lightly as they walked through the streets of Brooklyn, and Bucky took it as an opportunity to wrap his arm around her waist and pull her closer to him. When she looked up to meet his eyes with a confused expression, he simply said, “For warmth.”

Finally making it to his house, they stood outside the door as Bucky fumbled with the key. “Hey, James?” He looked at her, and she saw the fear in his eyes. “We’re gonna be okay.” 

Giving her a small watery smile, he slid the key into the lock and twisted it. He grabbed her hand for reassurance, and walked in. The wood floors creaked under their steps, though they were practically tiptoeing already. They searched the whole house besides Becca’s closet room in the back, and not to their surprise, found that Bucky’s father wasn’t home. “Y/N, can you get Becca from her crib? I’m going to pack our things.” He started to turn around to go to his room.

“Yeah, and while you're at it leave a note or something for your dad, just in case he wonders where you are.” 

Bucky’s footing faltered for a moment, until he replied over his shoulder, “Why? It’s not like he cares anyway.” Y/N’s heart dropped at this, and she saw past Bucky’s cool demeanor. He had been hurting, only ever seeking his father’s approval and attention, but it never seemed to be good enough. He didn’t even have to say it out loud. She knew that the only reason Bucky pushed himself to be the best, to maintain his 4.0 GPA, honors classes, and several tiring sports, were all for his dad. He has been taking care of his sister ever since his mom died, and never got any sleep. And all for what? With her eyes watering slightly, she made her way to the closet at the back of his house.

As she passed by the rooms, she realized that she hadn’t ever spent much time in Bucky’s house. She wasn’t upset about it, but she couldn’t help but to admire the architecture and interior of it. With a sigh, Y/N opened the closet door, and came to a sight she never thought she would see. Letting out a gasp, she turned around and ran. Practically sliding into Bucky’s room, she whimpered. “Y/N, what’s wrong?” He asked, seeing the clear panic on her face. He ran forward and grabbed her hands.

“Your dad is here.” She whispered. Bucky’s face lost all its color.

“What?” Y/N nodded. 

“My mom said that if he was here, to just leave and she would bring us back late-”

“No.” He said with determination. “I’m gonna talk to him.”

Y/N’s eyes widened slightly. “Do you want me to come with you?” Bucky nodded, and they went off to talk to his dad. George Barnes sat in the small foldable chair behind the crib. “Hey, uh, Y/N, right?” He lazily asked. Bucky gulped, and Y/N squeezed his hand to reassure him. 

“Yes, sir.” She responded.

“Cut to the chase, what do you want?” George snapped.

Bucky had a hard tone in his voice when he spoke. “Y/N’s family offered to take me and Becca in during quarantine. I’ll be taking her food with me, as well as mine, so I just thought I’d let you know I’ll be with Y/N until it's all over.” His father stared at him with a wrinkled brow and confusion written all over his face. That’s when Bucky realized that his own father didn’t know about the shelter in place order. “Oh god, you don’t even know do you? I can’t say I’m surprised, dad. I’m taking Becca. Goodbye.” And with venom in his every action, he grabbed Becca and stomped away with Y/N trailing behind him.

Once he had all of his things in a duffel bag, he looked over his shoulder to find his dad looking at him. Bucky was expecting anything really, yelling, or a lecture, but Mr. Barnes only sighed and retreated to his room. Y/N bundled Becca up in a blanket and cooed at the baby. Little Becca had known Y/N ever since she was born, and had even accidentally called her mama. That was very awkward for both Bucky and her, but they managed to move past it. The two freshmen took one more look at everything in the room, and after nodding in agreement, left the house without another word.

It was about a twenty minute walk to Y/N’s house, but with the rain it took a little longer. After ten minutes of silence, she spoke.

“Bucky, are you okay?” Becca was snuggled safely in her arms, and Bucky’s arm was once again holding Y/N against him, with his duffel bag thrown over his shoulder. The two of them almost looked like a happy couple, and she had to hide back the smile at the thought. Bucky on the other hand, was content with holding her close, but the only thing he could think about is how his dad didn’t even care that he was leaving. He was nearly disappointed, but he didn’t dare say that out loud. His feelings were boiling in his chest, and he wanted to do just something, anything, to get his mind off it, so he just held her tighter.

“I’m okay.” He replied shortly, hating how it came out as soon as he said it. Y/N understood he was upset and didn’t say anything, but she would be lying if she admitted that it didn’t hurt a little bit. “God, I’m sorry Y/N, I just don’t know how to feel anymore. Just don’t wanna think about it at all.”

She nodded. “I’ll be right here whenever you wanna talk, Buck. You can always tell me anything.” Leaning her head on his shoulder, Bucky let his lips turn upwards in just the slightest, and relaxed. “Do you wanna watch Gossip Girl when we get home?”

“I swear to god, doll, you’re addicted to that show.”

“I can’t help it, Carter Baizen is simply too hot for his own good.” Bucky just chuckled at her antics, and thought about how good he would feel when he didn’t have to worry anymore.

[pcssessicn]

☆ . · . miguel bernardeau, twenty-one, male, he / him . · . ☆ fitzwilliam 'fitz' phénix-alvarez lives in that huge mansion over there! no, not that one. look for white stucco walls & terracotta shingles and that’ll be it. the nhl defenseman has offered occasional glimpses of soft yellow walls and an impressive collection of plants in the background of social media posts, but all of that is nothing compared to seeing the opulence in person. they’ve remained protective as ever since moving to tercet court two months ago, but it seems like they might’ve gotten a little more mistrustful too. maybe that’s why they’re rumored to have such a distant relationship with everyone else who lives on this street. ☆ . · . ooc info: ollie, they / them, 21, est . · . ☆ career claim: cale ma/kar.

BASICS

Full name: Fitzwilliam Phénix-Alvarez Nickname: Fitz Birth date: September 29th Languages: English, Spanish, Quebecois Francois Hometown: 

PHYSICAL

Age: 21 Weight: 196 lbs Height: 6′2″ Body build: athletic, lean Eye color: grey-blue Faceclaim: Miguel Bernardeau Glasses or contacts: neither 

Tattoos: a raven in flight over his left shoulder blade, monochromatic vines winding up his left bicep

Scars: most predominantly a thin scar near the base of his neck where a skate slashed him when he was fourteen ; several other smaller scars of less note, especially on his hands --- much less noticeable

PERSONALITY

Good personality traits: observant, calculating, protective Bad personality traits: mistrustful, dishonest, aggressive 

Fitz comes across as very confident and in control, and at ease in his skin. The truth couldn’t be farther from it. He works hard to put forward the easy front he does --- and some days he can’t tell which one is more real. He has a dishonest smile that masquerades as honest, and a tendency to manipulate those around him when necessary to shed suspicion off himself. He can be almost charming at times, at least extremely amiable. Despite all this, Fitz is not rash or impulsive -- in fact everything he does is carefully calculated, though he goes to great lengths so it does not come across as so. The one place he feels truly effortless is on the ice.

He finds it hard to truly allow people close to him and to really see beyond the most superficial layers of himself. Furthermore, there is a deep-seated fear of not being enough and being forgotten ; he finds it easier to not let anyone close so there’s less chance of this happening.

THE STORY ( i rly was gunna try to write this nice and eloquently but... u get this instead 😔 )

— fitz was born to up and coming spanish actress reyna alvarez in chicago. the result of a messy one-night stand, but reyna ultimately decided to keep the baby. he is indeed named after fitzwilliam darcy from pride and prejudice bc his mother’s first breakout role was in a film adaptation of the book and she loved the book after reading it. how unfortunate for him.

— his birth father was never in the picture, but the man he would come to know as his father came into the picture a year or so after his birth. already one of the top architects in north america, paul robert phenix was in chicago for a conference and he and reyna fell in love. fitz has been told it’s was all very romantic. so then the happy family moved to pittsburgh where his father’s architecture firm was based.

— despite growing up with two parents who raked in a fair amount of cash, they made sure nothing was just given to fitz. they’d both had their humble beginnings and big believers in tough love, they made sure not to spoil their son. they did however make sure he was sheltered from the media when it poked around and the two things they did pay for without question were his education and sports.

— he started playing hockey when he was six after seeing a pens game on tv while they were out at dinner and knowing he just had to do it --- and never stopped. he got recruited to the us national team development program when he was sixteen and spent his last two years of high school in michigan living with a billet family most do who are with the program, which gave him a huge sense of “normalcy.” but really he was far from normal, his development taking great steps over those two years leading up to his draft year.

— queue the cale ma/kar career claim lads aka all the hockey development & logistics u can probably skip if u don’t care laksdjf: 

 one year before graduation and a draft, he vocally committed to playing at university of massachusetts - amherst. he went fourth overall to the la kings in the 2017 draft ( yeah technically irl that pick belonged to the avs but sh ), and proceeded to remain loyal to his commitment and play two years at umass despite his new top five prospect status. he was put into a first pair role from the start of his freshman year ( 2017-18 ), was a huge part in bringing the umass team up from the bottom of the standings. he plays for team usa in world juniors 2017 and 2018.

his sophomore year ( 2018-19 ), they make it all the way to the frozen four. fitz gets announced as the hobey baker winner and the day after they get knocked out of the tournament. not long after that he signs his entry contract with the kings and finishes out the season with them. he scores his first nhl goal on his first shot in game 3 of the first round of playoffs irl the kings don’t make playoffs but again shh. they get knocked out in the first round and fitz goes home and trains harder than ever.

he come back to kings training camp the next season ( 2019-20 ) more determined than ever to make the team. he does so out of camp and has an incredible rookie campaign. he gets injured in december and misses a few games but is back mid-january. fitz is given the calder ( award that goes to the best rookie in the nhl ) at the end of the season. technically cale hasn’t won this yet but we all know he will.

— la is a bustling city and fitz is a fan of one night stands : he just doesn’t feel like he has time for a relationship and hookups scratch that itch. he’s not an asshole about it, really. there is typically that understanding that this is a one time, no strings attached thing. but this one girl he sleeps with in march obviously does not get this memo and continues to not get the memo. she starts seriously stalking him in the following months and eventually he gets a restraining order against her ( use ur imagination kids ). he’s not really comfortable staying in his own apartment downtown for the time being though after he still sees her around. he stays with a teammate until the season ends, which then brings us to his connection to tercet court.

— paul robert phenix, now world reknowned architect, had a hand in designing several of the homes on tercet court, including one in the style of old money spanish mediterrianian villas that he designed with his wife in mind to be their new home. fitz’s mother had loved the house and moved in for a few years after the court opened but with her taking fewer roles up in the movie industry and getting exceedingly more lonely, she decided to embrace the more nomadic livestyle of her husband and moved out about a year and a half ago. since then the home stood vacant ( though certainly still cared for by several paid landscapers and maids ) until fitz’s dilemma arose a few months ago.

— a few phone calls and a begrudging agreement to pay the extremely steep taxes on the place for the year ( again, tough love and fitz may be a pro-athlete but he’s still making less than a million a year with his entry level contract ), and fitz moved in about two months ago ( say mid-may ).

MISC

— tri-lingual. father is french-canadian and his mother is spanish. needless to say he grew up a little confused. that worked itself out soon enough though. uses he uses quebois french in-season kind of frequently to talk to a couple teammates. really only uses his spanish to talk to his mother and family.

— since moving in fitz has filled the mansion with plants. he absolutely does not seem like a plant guy but he is... absolutely loves it. his major at umass was kinesology bc he thought it would be the most helpful and knew he wasn’t going to graduate but he snuck in some out-of-major classes on horticulture. truly just likes plants a lot. they don’t judge him.

— probably set up his own puck shooting pad in the backyard. why not there’s enough space. he had to retrieve a couple pucks from the bottom of the pool though which has been good incentive to not miss the net lmao. he also has revamped one of the rooms in the house to have synthetic ice.

— runs in the morning before it gets hot. skates a few days of the week in the afternoon. home gym in the house is definitely a perk but he prefers to work out with others because it feels more productive.

— probably drives like. a range rover.

— offensive defenseman. likes to jump up in the rush and is good at break out passes as well as zone entry. earned his place quarterbacking the first powerplay towards the end of the season. he can be quite physical when he needs to be though and don’t ever go after his goalie. ( his nhl.com player page )

— he’s not a recluse by any means, but he has no desire to built connections in tercet court so probably hasn’t actively reached out. they’re likely to have met outside of the small community or if your character forcibly came and introduced themselves. or if they knew each other already mayhaps??

— oh and he’s bi. like really really bi. obv not advertised given his career path but he’s not having some crisis over it either. it just is. probably has a stack of nda’s next to the condoms ready to go at anytime alsdkfj.

OOC

hey lads. i’m ollie !! for those around for round 1.0 of this rp i played alya ( the sports photog ). i am back and this time going back to what i do best : playing hockey boys 😔😔😔.

[gorgxoxus]

Giving Klaine fic recs for my least favourite tropes:

This is not my original idea. I took it from Merphy Napier on YouTube.

https://youtu.be/6wC3qrYAHV0

https://youtu.be/TbqjMdj7Gtc

Miscommunication:

Fic rec: OKAY SO MISCOMMUNICATION IS ONE OF THE THINGS IM HATING THE MOST ABOUT THIS FIC BUT ITS STILL A GEM AND I CAN SEE WHY ITS BELOVED.

All the other ghosts/Grey by rainjoy:

ATOG podfic (how I read most of it)

It's a big city for one more lost soul in a mask. Superhero AU.

Flashbacks:

Fic rec: This verse is not full of flashbacks but the ones used are GREAT. There is one in Staccatos that hits me in the feels every time and leaves me an emotional wreck.

Symphony Verse by Shandyall:

Blaine has spent most of his life feeling like the only thing people notice about him is that he stutters. He’s working hard to overcome his (mostly self created) roadblocks when he meets Kurt in an online class the summer after his freshman year of college.

Love triangle:

Fic rec: This is the only love true love triangle Klaine fic I’ve read (where you truly don’t know what the end results going to be). Spoiler warning it’s Klaine endgame.

What a feeling by elfinder:

Through the hell he faced while living in Lima Ohio, Kurt Hummel finally made it out of the backwards cow town to the city of San Francisco. However, to survive meant dreams had been crushed, hopes forgotten, and impenetrable walls built around him. Long gone is the naive youth who dreamed of Broadway and romance. To the new Kurt Hummel, romance is dead. After finally turning 21, Kurt decides to let loose and finally get laid. He didn't count on the two young men that would come into his life because of this choice. Enter Sebastian Smythe and Blaine Anderson, both offering different things within Kurt's life, and causing varied reactions within him. Will he be able to keep the life style he fought so hard to gain without the risk of emotions ruining it?

Cheating:

Fic rec: Okay I hate cheating in all forms no matter what but I have a large affinity for this piece of fiction. One of my all time faves.

Sideways by crisscolferl0ve:

Blaine is the most popular kid at school, he's also a bully. Kurt is the new kid and the victim of the football team, but bullying somebody doesn't necessarily mean you won't end up liking them, even if you try your best not to.

Dumb choices made by smart characters:

Fic rec: They are kids and make a BIG choice that affects their lives. But a beautiful fic.

Beautiful mess by WildHurricane:

What do you say when your very straight friend tells you he wants to know what it's like to kiss a guy and all you want to say is "kiss me".

Kurt is secretly in love with his best friend Blaine. He's recently figured out he's gay, but hasn't told anyone. Especially not Blaine. Or his girlfriend.

Blaine is confused and in denial about why he wants to kiss Kurt. He's not gay. He has a long line of girlfriends to prove that.

Both are scared what it will do to their friendship if the other finds out.

Hollywood ending trope (slow burn with no payoff):

Fic rec: This kinda subverts this trope because even though it takes FOREVER for them to get together the beforehand makes it worth it. (It’s not a Hollywood ending).

Hold the line by dontbefancy:

Everyone is a senior, marching band is the new glee club and Blaine is the new kid set to topple Kurt’s well-earned, and long-awaited reign as the lead trumpet in their award-winning ensemble.

Badboy trope:

Fic rec: I have a rant where I talk about why I don’t like badboy!Blaine especially but I LOVE this fic. It just hits me in the feels every time and doesn’t have a lot of the tropes around badboy Blaine I dislike.

Fire with fire by mmerainbows:

William McKinley High School has its jocks, its geeks, its preps, and its skanks. It also has the one kid even the bullies stay out of the way for - Blaine Anderson. No one crosses him, and Kurt knows to keep out of his way and do what he wants, whether that's supplying Blaine with a pencil for French class when it's demanded of him, or just staying quiet.

There are definitely other tropes I dislike that I cannot give a fic rec for (or at least a good one).

I’m interested if there’s a trope that you guys don’t like but you have a fic a chance and it blew you away - @esperantoauthor @lilyvandersteen @hkvoyage @steph-luvs-klaine ???

[louhooo]

Hello My Old Heart | Chap. 3

Summary: Reminiscing and Showers

Pairings: Bucky Barnes x Reader [AU]

Warnings: Fluff, swearing, angst (sorry)

A/N: I’m so sorry it took all week to put this out!! I had it written up, but didn’t like what I had, and I struggled with motivating myself to rewrite it. I’ve also been in a pretty good mood, so writing angst has been v difficult 😬

Feedback is very much appreciated! 💘

“Your boyfriend won’t stop asking about you.”

You rolled your eyes and shut your locker. 

“He’s not my boyfriend.” She gave a disbelieving look. “He’s not!” She scoffed a laugh.

“Right. And the sky is green, the grass is blue, and up is down.” You shrugged your brows.

“Good thing we aren’t pilots, ‘cause that sounds confusing and very stressful.” She growled and backhanded your arm, making you laugh. 

“Will you just ask him on a date for all of our sakes? He’s just too nervous to do it himself.” You started walking to math. You shook your head softly.

“Do you know for a fact that he wants to ask me out, or is that just a guess?”

“Dude, are you fucking serious?! Of course he does! He won’t stop asking me if you’re talking to anyone, even though he literally sees you all the time, so he’d clearly know if you were….” she grumbled under her breath. You grinned and walked into Mr. Pym’s class. Steve and Bucky were already there, immediately stopping their conversation when you and Sharon sat down.

“Hey, Y/N, Bucky has a–” Bucky leaned over and pushed Steve out of his desk. Steve looked up from the floor at Buck. “What the fu–”

“Language... Mr. Rogers.” Mr. Pym spoke from his desk, not even bothering to glance up from his newspaper. Steve got bright red and shot Bucky a look as he got back into his desk. You and Sharon shared a look.

Just talk to him already, she mouthed. You sighed and chewed on your bottom lip as you shrugged off your backpack. You hesitantly walked over to the other side of the room where Bucky and Steve were sitting. You sat down in the desk in front of Bucky and turned around so you were looking at him. His eyes were wide and his face was losing color by the second. You grinned.

“Hey, Buck.”

“H-Hey, Y/N.” He gave you a nervous, but still endearingly charming smile. Bucky wasn’t sure how his brain managed to form a sentence with you right in front of him. Lately, every time you talked, he shut down completely and just stared at you like the angel that you were. God, you’re pretty…. 

“You know what my two favorite foods are right now?” He pinched his brows, trying not to show that he had only just started listening. You watched him glance over at Steve and then back to you.

“Uh… no?”

“Chocolate ice cream and french fries. They’re great on their own, and even better together.”

“I thought there were too many flavors to pick a favorite?” You grinned.

“Chocolate’s better with french fries.” He nodded his head, still looking puzzled. You took a deep breath, “Well, I was gonna go to Peg’s after school and get a shake and some fries…” he kept nodding his head, “would you, maybe, wanna come with?” He stopped nodding abruptly and blinked.

“Alright, folks, back to your seats,” Mr. Pym walked up to the front of class. All Bucky did was stare at you. You sighed softly and stood up, and walked back to your seat, ignoring the expectant look Sharon was giving, and silently pulled out your notebook and pencil and watched Mr. Pym work through a homework problem. 

You should have known he wasn’t really interested in asking you out on a date. He was Bucky Barnes, the only freshman to start on varsity, and unbelievably sweet and caring and un-believably out of your league. Even when you were kids he was still too cool to be associated with you. 

With homecoming in a few weeks, you were now dreading having to hear Dot Williams talk about how Bucky asked her.

Dot already talked about how “close” she was to Bucky asking her out all. The. Time. You’re sure it would only get worse once they went to the dance together.

And why wouldn’t he ask her? She was the head cheerleader for football, wrestling, and, somehow, baseball last summer, even though the baseball team wasn’t supposed to have cheerleaders. Everyone knew she was Bucky’s biggest fangirl, one you weren’t even on the same playing field with. She was the definition of “perfect” for every boy in school. And you… were you. 

You would have to be completely naïve to not realize that she was better than you. 

“Yes, Mr. Barnes? You have a question?” You snapped out of your daydream and looked up at Mr. Pym. You followed his line of sight to Bucky, who had his hand raised.

“Uh… it’s actually for Y/N.” On cue, everyone’s eyes landed on you, including Bucky’s. “I’ve got practice after school until six; can you wait until after?” You felt your cheeks get hot and you nodded quickly. Bucky smiled widely, “Okay. Then, it’s a date.” A slow smile spread on your face as everyone else made small hooting noises. Mr. Pym cleared his throat, attracting everyone’s attention.

“Any more questions for Miss Y/L/N, Mr. Barnes?”

“No, sir.” Mr. Pym glanced between you and Bucky, and shook his head before moving back to the board and writing out the math problem. Someone tapped your shoulder and you turned around.

I told you, Sharon mouthed with a big smile. You grinned, making no attempt to hide your happiness. You glanced at Bucky and saw he was already looking at you. You both smiled at each other, everything else fading away. 

Okay... maybe you were wrong. 

Someone clearing their throat pulled your attention and you went back to copying the board and trying very hard to not look at the other for the remainder of class.

You stared up at the ceiling of your hotel room. You weren’t ready to get out of bed yet, because that meant starting your day, and you still weren’t sure how to feel about it. 

Sharon’s bridal shower was today, an event purposefully scheduled the weekend before the wedding so that you could be in attendance. Because despite whatever you believed, your friends still loved you just the same and wanted you to be included.

Maybe it would have made things easier if more people hated you for leaving. When you first left, you waited three weeks before getting ahold of anyone, and those early calls were full of tears and pleas to come home.

But you couldn’t. Home just wasn’t the same for you.

Your phone vibrated on the nightstand, interrupting your thoughts. You sighed and rolled over, unplugging your charger and squinting at the screen. Another sigh, and you answered the call.

“Hello?” Despite being awake since 3:30, your voice was rough from sleep. You cleared your throat.

“Wake up, I need help setting stuff up.” You rubbed your hand down your face.

“Good morning to you, too, Natasha.” She sighed on the other end.

“Good morning, how’d ya sleep? Good? Good, okay. Come over to Sharon’s in an hour.” You glanced at the red numbers on the nightstand, and groaned. It was only eight, and the party wasn’t until noon. “Y/N… don’t make me come drag you out of bed, ‘cause you know I will. I’ll even get Clint and it can be just like old times–”

“Oh my god, don’t. I’m gettin’ up, I’m gettin’ up… I’ll see ya in an hour.” She laughed out a goodbye and you returned the sentiment. You dropped your phone on the bed, and continued staring at the popcorn ceiling. You’re doing it for Sharon. Put your big kid pants on, and buck up. You’ll be fine.

Time had only made you forget how much you disliked Sharon’s mom. Amanda, had made it abundantly clear that she only thought you were going to bring bad luck to Steve and Sharon’s marriage, and took you to the side and told you that it would be “just fine” if you left. 

Peggy stopped it before Amanda could say anything else, but it was too late, the thought was already in your head. 

“Ignore her. She’s only happy when she makes other people feel terrible.” Peggy pulled you along, keeping you by her side most of the morning, having you do all of the busy work, you’re sure to keep your mind preoccupied. 

She sat you at the kitchen table and you both bundled the silverware and napkins together with gold ribbon.

“So, when’s Pepper getting here?” Peggy sighed.

“Not until Wednesday. She had to help a client at the last minute.” She continued to bunch the silverware, “She’s a divorce lawyer, you know?” You eyed her, put continued working at the same pace.

“Yes… I’m aware.” Peggy briefly glanced at you through her lashes.

“Have you talked to her at all? I’m sure she’d lower her rates for you.” You took a deep breath and calmly set the spoon in your hand down.

“Peggy…–”

“It’s just an idea,” she defended herself while looking at you, “and I think it would be good. For both of you.” You blinked.

“I–”

“Oh, god, is mom making you guys do this? Ugh, I’m gonna kill her, I told her to do this.” Sharon pulled out a chair beside you and started wrapping silverware and napkins together. She glanced at you, and you grinned in return. Her brows pinched, “What’s wrong?” You shook your head.

“Nothin’! Peg was just saying that Pepper won’t be here?” Sharon bought the distraction and started explaining why Pepper wouldn’t be here. You figured it was easier for everyone this way. You were tired of everyone walking on eggshells for you, and you were sure they were tired of doing it.

By the time the shower started, you had already volunteered yourself to be the one who replenished food and drinks whenever they were just slightly low. Nat gave you a look when you offered, that silently promised you she would be discussing this later. 

Sharon’s family and a few of her work friends started to trickle in until there were about forty some people mingling in the backyard. You circulated and talked to just enough people that you didn’t look like you were dodging any serious questioning, but any time Sharon’s second cousin or maternal aunt would ask anything personal, you’d find an excuse to leave.

You were stirring the punch when you felt someone stand behind you. You looked over your shoulder and felt your resolve quickly start to fade.

Sarah Rogers. 

Her eyes flitted over your face and the empty cup in her hand shook faintly.

“Y/N?” Your eyes glassed over and you tried your best to form some type of grin or smile. “Oh, sweetheart…” You put the ladle down, and turned to her, her arms immediately spreading. You walked straight into them, the same floral perfume she’d always worn enveloping you. 

She squeezed you like you might evaporate right in front of her. 

Sarah had been everyone’s second mom growing up. She was the one you all went to whenever you needed help with something, and she never judged you for whatever was going on. 

You spent more time at her house than you did your own, most of the time. Sarah Rogers was just one of those people who genuinely cared about everyone, and made sure you knew it.

She made it easy on you and talked the most, filling you in on everything that had happened since you left. You didn’t want to tell her you’d been fairly kept up-to-date on town gossip, scared that you’d hurt her feelings even more if she found out you still kept in touch with all of your friends, except her son and his best friend. 

You were very relieved to find out, however, that Winnie wouldn’t be here because she and George were helping Becca get settled at her new apartment. They would be back in time for the wedding, she assured. 

Wonderful.

Two hours later and the party was finally over. Peggy had sacrificed herself and invited Sharon’s family to her house for coffee or tea, so that they would leave Sharon alone without being explicitly told to do so. Peggy made sure that you all knew that you owed her “big time”. 

You would have left earlier, too, but Nat mentioned something about “bridesmaid duties requiring you to do everything she tells you to.” The power of being maid-of-honor had gone to her head, and without Pepper there to back you up, you were defenseless.

“So, Y/N…” You glanced over your shoulder at Sharon. She came next to you at the sink and wrapped an arm around your waist. “How are you doing?” You gave her a confused face and pulled the plug from the drain.

“I’m fine…? How are you?” You laughed a little at her questioning.

“Well, Peggy told us about yesterday.” Your grin fell and you sighed loudly.

“Peggy and her big mouth,” you spoke under your breath and shook your head. “Everything’s fine, and Peggy can kindly mind her own business.” 

Sharon opened her mouth to talk, but the front door swished open.

“Sharon?”

“In here!” Heavy footsteps sounded on the hardwood flooring and Steve appeared in the kitchen. Sharon dropped her arm around you and met Steve in the doorway, where they shared a kiss in greeting, “How was work?” They walked further into the kitchen.

“Quiet. Hi, mom,” he pecked her cheek and turned back to Sharon, “How was the party?”

“Good! We got the blender we wanted!” Steve shared in her enthusiasm and thrusted his hand up in the air.

“We’ll have to test it out tomorrow. I found a new recipe for a green smoothie that I wanna—”

“Oh my god, you are literally an old married couple already,” Nat teased. “Disgusting.” You all laughed and Sharon flipped her off with a smile. You dried off your hands.

“Well, I think I’m gonna head now.”

“No, stay! We were gonna grill out for supper and Sam and Clint were gonna come over, too!”

“Oh, I’m still kinda recovering from my hangover yesterday,” you chuckled, trying to play it off. “I really just need to sleep for sixteen hours straight.” Sharon and Nat shared a look like they wanted to say something, but didn’t. Sharon sighed softly.

“Alright. Well, thanks for helping set up, and thanks again for the sign! I love it!” You hugged and swayed together.

“You’re welcome. I didn’t want to risk you getting mad at me for not remembering.” You both chuckled. When you had made the sign for you and Bucky, Sharon made you promise to make her one for when her and Steve got married. No one would have guessed Steve was going to wait as long as he did.

“Only a little mad.” You pulled back and gave a hug to Nat, who forced your hand in agreeing to come to dinner at her and Clint’s Tuesday night. You always somewhat believed Nat was an assassin in another life, so there was a genuine fear in upsetting her. 

Sarah gave you another tight hug and told you, for the fifth time today, that she was glad you were here. You turned around to grab your purse, and saw that Steve was already holding it.

“I’ll walk you out to your car.” He grinned, and you gave a smaller one back and nodded. You said another quick goodbye and you and Steve stepped outside. “Do you remember when I finally asked Sharon out?” You chuckled at the memory. 

Steve had been even worse than Bucky had. He could hardly talk when Sharon was within twelve feet of him, nor could he hold eye contact with her, regardless of the distance. Sharon was convinced something was seriously wrong with him. It took him about ten weeks before he finally asked her out without running away two seconds into the conversation.

“I think you owe me fifty dollars, if I remember correctly.” He laughed genuinely and you gave a sincere smile.

“Does Sharon know you bet I’d marry her?”

“Of course she knows. I told her as soon as you asked her out.” Steve chuckled.

“Remind me next time I see ya, and I’ll write ya a check.”

“Wow, you really are an old man, huh?” He bumped into you with his elbow and you giggled. He handed you your purse and you pulled out your keys, and hit the unlock button a few times. “Thanks for walking me out, Steve.”

“Have you gone to the Grove yet?” You dropped your keys, surprised by his question. You bent down and picked them up with a shaky hand.

“N-not yet.” You stopped in front of your car and he opened the door for you.

“Just asking.” You dared a glance up at him and couldn’t stop the tear from sliding down your cheek. “Y/N….” he sighed with a soft exhaust. He wrapped his arms around you as you cried into the chest of his navy shirt. He rubbed his hand in a soothing circle on your back and let you break down. 

You and Steve were friends well before you were friends with Sharon. His house was only a block down from yours, and Bucky’s just a couple down from his. The three of you spent that summer before third grade making memories that built your friendship. Sharon’s desk was beside yours, and it was an almost instant friendship. She introduced you to Nat and Sam at recess, and you met Clint at lunch. You acquainted everyone after school, and the rest was history. 

Even if he was your Stevie, he was Bucky’s first. There wouldn’t be a fight to decide who “got” Steve; he would always choose Bucky. So, you never reached out to him, that way he wouldn’t have to be in the middle. There were many times you just wanted to call Steve for one of his famous late-night talks on the phone, but you couldn’t. You had made your bed, and were forced to lie in it. 

“I’m just so-so…” you broke into another sob and clutched onto his shirt. Steve hugged you tighter. 

You don’t know how long you stood there, Steve letting you ruin his shirt with your tears and watery mascara. You were only distantly aware of the sound of a truck coming down the street. Steve shifted slightly and you looked up at him. He was looking over to the side and you followed his gaze. 

Clint and Sam had pulled up and were having a silent conversation with Steve using only facial expressions. “I’m sorry, I should go. Thank you, Steve.” He looked back down at you and still looked concerned, his hold on you not loosening enough to break away.

“Y/N, you really don’t have to. We have a guest bedroom. You can—” You shook your head.

“No. You need to go in and spend time with your fiancé. She needs you more than I do.” He gave you a look.

“I’m not worried about my fiancé at the moment….” You cupped the side of his face.

“I’m fine, Steve. I promise to call someone if I need anything, alright?” He gauged your response before he slowly nodded. He bent down and kissed your forehead.

“Go get some sleep. I’ll call you in the morning.” You nodded and dropped your arms and got into your car. He softly shut the door after you started the car. You rolled the window down and he leaned his forearms on the sill, “Just a warning: I’m not above busting a few doors down if you don’t answer me when I call.” You smirked, the expression almost foreign to you.

“Wouldn’t expect anything less from Captain Rogers.” He gave a crooked smirk. Steve knew better than to believe you were “fine”. 

You did your seatbelt as Steve stepped back. You slowly pulled away, tears brimming as Steve stayed in the street watching you until you were out of sight. You drove to the hotel, and for the second day in a row, cried yourself into a dreamless sleep.

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••••••

TAGS: @allonszassbutt, @amazonianbeauty

[itsalliepg]

Hometown - Zig x Scarlett (MC) - Part 2

SUMMARY: After an enjoyable afternoon, Scarlett (MC) takes Zig to some places from her childhood and teenage days.

PAIRING: Zig X Scarlett (MC)

RATING: Everyone

WORDS: 2143

NOTE: English isn’t my native language. I write to practice and learn, so please sorry any mistakes. I hope you like it, and if you do, I’d appreciate if you like/comment/reblog!Tag List:  @maxwells-nut @seawhite-seafair @molly7998@ziggy-o@purpledinosaur4ever@writtenbycandy @chenchen731@thatspicegirlssong @christopher-powell@zigortega4life @emerald-bijou

Fanfic Masterlist

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The afternoon at Thomas’ house was extremely pleasant. Zig was already bonding with Therese and Louis, to Scarlett’s delight. But she decided the night would be just her and Zig. She wanted to show him the schools where she studied and the places she used to go before college. She took a shower and got dressed after he did the same and was downstairs waiting for her. When Scarlett got ready, she went to the living room, but couldn’t found her boyfriend or her parents. She heard a few voices coming from outside, and when se as peeked out the door window, she saw Zig, Louis and Therese wrapped up in conversation. Scarlett couldn’t help but smile widely. They only interrupted the chat when she opened the door.

               _Perfect timing, Scarlett! – Zig smiled and Scarlett approached them – we were talking about you.

               _Oh, dad, I hope you’re not telling him embarrassing stories about me…

               _No yet, but just wait – Louis winked at her – I’m kidding, bean. I was telling him about that spelling bee you won in fourth grade.

               _Oh, right! Zig saw that picture I keep in my room in Hartfeld – she wrapped an arm around Zig’s waist and he kissed her temple.

               _Aw, aren’t they a lovely couple, honey? – Theresa nudged her husband.

               _Absolutely – he put an arm around her shoulders – are you sure you don’t want to have dinner here?

               _Yes, dad. I want to take Zig to Golden Crispy, he has to taste the fried chicken sandwich, right? – she smiled.

               _Oh, she talked so much about this place… - Zig winked at her.

               _But she’s right, the Scarlett-life-tour couldn’t be complete without it – Therese glanced at Scarlett’s neck – oh, so that is the gift he gave you on your birthday? – she approached to see the star necklace her daughter was using – you have good taste, it’s pretty! – she smiled to Zig.

               _Isn’t it? – Scarlett looked at Zig, beaming.

               _Thanks, ma’am – Zig beamed as well – but the saleswoman gave me some tips, I’ve never bought anything like this before.

               _But it was you who chose it, right? – Louis smiled and Zig nodded – well, have fun tonight, kids, take care!

               _Don’t worry, dad, we’re just going for a ride in town – after saying goodbyes, Zig and Scarlett got in his car and she laughed – actually, there’s a place I want to take you that my parents can’t know.

               _Yeah? Don’t they know you’re a real troublemaker? – he smirked.

               _You can say so – she grinned mischievously – look, my first school! – she pointed to a building with a playground in front of it. Zig parked and they climb out of the car – first day at school, I met Emma on that swing. I’m taller than her, so she asked me to push her. Then our gaze caught Kelsey and her jumping rope skills. We decided to take a closer look, and she invited us to play with her. Later we realized we were from the same class and, well, we’re still friends today.

               _I like your friendship with them. You keep in touch even with you here, Kelsey in California and Emma in France.

               _It’s not easy, but we have technology in our favor, thank God – she took his hand – one day, I can introduce you to them by Skype. I also told them a lot about you.

               _I’d love to – he squeezed her hand – is there another school there? – he looked behind her.

               _Yes! My elementary school! Come on – hand in hand, they walked two blocks and reached another building – there’s the auditorium where I won the contest. And that window is from the science lab. It reminds me of the tarantula hunting – she giggled – in my fifth grade class, there was a boy named Trevor Miller, he was such a brat. Once, he decided to pick a tarantula from an aquarium in the lab and scare our science teacher. But shortly after he grabbed the spider, she returned to class after a little chat with our principal. He released it, and throughout the class, he couldn’t get it back, so the tarantula simply ran away. When class was over, she noticed the empty aquarium and asked what had happened. When he saw none of us would have his back, Trevor confessed his plan.

               _Wow, and what about the spider? So you said it was a hunt?

               _Yes, we decided to look for the whole school, but who found it was a seventh grade girl, in the window of her classroom. Trevor got a month’s detention and we decided to give his name to the spider – they laughed.

               _That was priceless, Scarlett – he hugged her – and what else did you enjoy doing then, besides looking for tarantulas?

               _Well, when I wasn’t at my friends’ house chatting, listening to music or watching TV shows, I was in the library or riding my bike in a park I’m planning on taking you to in the morning. But since we’re close to downtown, let’s walk around here, there some places you’d like to see – Scarlett led Zig through the streets and she spent the early evening introducing her hometown to him, and he felt a little closer to her, listening to her life stories.

               After the walk, Scarlett and Zig headed back to the car and she told him directions to her favorite diner. Soon they were sitting side by side at a table and eating.

               _So, what’s the story behind this place?

               _Me and my friends have a tradition since our freshman year. We came here before the homecoming ball. But we didn’t have dates for the Prom, so we returned here while the party was going on. So, we set up this ritual: we could come here other days of the year, but we must come before the balls and the last night before the first day of school.

               _Oh, so it really is an important place for you – Scarlett nodded while she chewed a potato chip – and I imagine you have a bunch of memories here.

               _You’re right, but my favorite was when my friend Gina got a summer job here. She was hired to wash the dishes, and after a few weeks she was promoted to waitress. We decided to congratulate her during her first day. She’s very funny, so we decided to make her life a bit difficult, like filling the cups with lots of napkins and soiling the whole plates with mustard. But suddenly, Kieran, my crush, came and sat on the counter and I immediately stopped what I was doing to pay attention to him. I noticed he was looking too much to me and I was nervous, but also excited, because he finally noticed me. Before he left, he approached me, leaned in and…said my face was yellow – Zig almost choked on the soda.

               _Let me guess…mustard? – Scarlett began to laugh and he joined her – oh, poor Scarlett…

               _I ran to the bathroom and saw a big yellow stain on my forehead. It was hot that day, and when I saw him, I wiped my sweat so fast I didn’t realized there was mustard in my hands – they laughed.

               _You’re so adorable – he kissed her quickly – but if I were him, I’d offer to help you clean up.

               _Of course you would, you flirt – she rolled her eyes, but giggled and kissed him again – but you’re also adorable. I love you.

               _I love you too – he smiled – and what kind of teenage stereotype were you?

               _Mmm…not surprising I was in the literature club, but I also played volleyball for a year. During junior year, Emma and I joined the foreign film club, so she decided to study French. And one teacher once tried to convince me to join the chemistry club because of my grades. I don’t know if I fit into some stereotype.

               _I was joking. Since you’re so talented, I knew you didn’t fit in just one path. Unlike me, the math’s club great nerd – he giggled and she tapped his nose.

               _But you’re nothing close to a typical nerd – she rested her head on his shoulder – because you’re unique.

               _Look who’s talking – they giggled and kept talking about their high school years. When they got back to the car, she grinned devilish again.

               _Continue forward and then take the first left. Go for more four blocks. And we’ll get to that secret place.

               _Now I’m curious – he followed her directions and then he parked a little confused – this is…your high school?

               _Yes – she got out of the car – come here – she approached the railing and looked sideways – oh, it’s still here – she lifted the railing and crouched a little to get to the other side – we used to do that often too – Zig chuckled and did the same as Scarlett.

               _Okay, and why would you want to break into your school in the middle of the night?

               _Because of that – she pointed to an Olympic-size pool, and she took his hand to guide him there – my parents never imagined we did it.

               _The perfect and beloved Scarlett Thomas also has secrets to hide, huh? – he arched an eyebrow.

               _Come on, Zig. You know my naughty side better than anyone else – she unzipped her dress and let the fabric fall down to the floor, then cautiously descended the stairs – aren’t you going to join me?

               _Sure – he took off his shirt and jeans and met her in the water. He slowly approached her, a grin on her face, and closed the distance in a gentle kiss – so, are you the evil mastermind behind it?

               _No. Who discovered this hole in the railing was a bunch of seniors, when I was a sophomore I guess? But at that time the news ran easily, I don’t know how that didn’t reach the principal’s ears!

               _Or maybe the principal knew, but it was the person behind the hole in the railing – he winked and they laughed.

               _It’s a good theory – after a lingering kiss she pulled back, floating, but he pursued her, his arms wrapping around her tightly.

               _Inhale deep – she obliged and he dove in, taking her with him, and then caught her mouth again. Under the water, they focused only on that long, slow kiss. After a while, they returned to recover air.

               _Okay, this kind of kiss we didn’t try before, and was really great.

               _It was. Don’t get me wrong, I love your parents, but I was crazy to get you alone.

               _I know, and I wanted too. That’s why I wanted to bring you here, to get some privacy – she bit his lower lip.

               _Yeah? – under the water, he ran his hands over her thighs around his waist – and what do you have in mind now?

               _Let me show you – she kissed him again, as he led them forward, keeping her pinned against the wall. The intensity of the kisses increased – I never did it here with anyone before.

               _Yeah? I’m honored – she kissed his neck and he moved his hands to unclasp her bra.

               _WHO IS THERE? – suddenly, a strong light beside them made them freeze.

               _Shit! – Scarlett swam quickly to the stairs and Zig followed her – this is new – they grabbed their clothes and ran to the hole they had entered earlier.

               _YOU TWO ARE INVADING A SCHOOL, I’LL CALL THE POLICE! – a tall man in a security uniform was chasing them as they returned to the car. Still wet and undressed, Zig tried to start the car.

               _Come on, come on! – he glanced to the man, approaching them with the flashlight – damn, it never happened before! – suddenly the car started and Zig accelerated as fast as he could and turned onto the next street he found.

               _Do you think he saw the license plate? – Scarlett was looking back.

               _No, I got off really fast, unless he has a real quick eye – they remained in silence while he drove for a few minutes. In a moment, he stopped. Still panting, they glanced to each other and burst out laughing – I don’t think this thrilled ride was part of the itinerary.

               _Definitely not. But when I used to come here, they had no guards. Maybe they found out what ninety per cent of the students do – she squeezed his hand – sorry for that, Zig. I really had no idea.

               _Hey, it was fun! Nothing like an electrifying escape to liven up the ride – he kissed her hand – but I drove so much I don’t even know if we left the city. Do you recognize it here?

               _Oh, sure! – she looked out outside, still behind the window – it’s an old quarter, close to the city hall, the theater and the biggest hotel in city.

               _Cool. I have a towel in the glove compartment. We can dry ourselves and go for a walk.

Thanks for reading!

Let me know if you want to be tagged in future fanfics!

[sporadic-writer]

Mrs. All American pt. 3

Harrison x Reader

Warnings: swearing, mentions of alcohol and partying, but that’s about it

Also this may be considered long.. Idk I just wanted to write and kept going.

Summary: the three of you prep for the party.

Yeah that’s a boring summary but it’s all I got ok?

Part 1 here! Part 2 here!

°••°••°••°••°••°••°

It was around 11:45 in the morning. Tom and Harrison were hanging out in Tom's kitchen while he made some lunch. Both men had been up for a couple of hours. You however, had yet to emerge from your room.

"Should we wake her up? It's almost 12." Harrison looked to the direction of your room then back to Tom who simply shook his head no.

"Nah she usually wakes up between 10 and 1. Broad range but it's how she is. I will guess though that she will be up soon." He wiped his hands off of crumbs and looked at his sandwich. "Man I could be a chef. This looks amazing."

"Mate, last time you made soup you burnt the fucking pot so badly you had to throw it out."

Rolling his eyes he replied. "Yeah but no heat involved this time so all is good." He turned to clean up and get a drink and failed to see you come up to the island.

You smirked and made a shush motion to Harrison. Quietly, you grabbed the plate and moved to sit next to Harrison. Then you grabbed half of the sandwich and took a bite. It was around then that Tom turned around and noticed you.

"Hey sleeping beauty made it up before 12. Proud of you!" He seemed to take no notice of the theft that took place. Grabbing his cup he took a sip and turned back around. You suppressed a laugh along with Harrison. Then he turned back around and went to grab where his plate was. He stopped as you were on your second bite. Confused, he looked around and then his eyes met yours. While chewing you maintained eye contact. "You bitch! Give that back!" He leaned over and snatched the plate. At this point everyone was laughing.

"Dude that didn't even click right away for you. I got 2 bites deep. Tasty by the way."

"I made that myself. You don't deserve it!" You noticed the purpose and guard he had while eating. You simply laughed more. While sitting you felt Harrison's hand on your back and heard him speak up.

"Let him have it love. It apparently is a major accomplishment in his life that he performed a basic life skill." Tom flipped his friend off and you slipped off the chair. Moving around the island you brushed your hand on Harrison's arm, mentally noting how strong he felt. You were a sucker for nice arms and good abs and Harrison was the jackpot for both in your eyes. The abs were yet to be seen, but you knew. Call it female intuition.

"Tom, not being able to cook just confirms the privileged actor stereotype. Don't let the haters be right. Now where do you keep your pans. I'm makin’ eggs." He told you were they were and you began preparing your breakfast.

With your back turned you didn't see a set of blue eyes look at you fondly. However, your ears heard him speak to you. "You know how to cook?" He saw you nod yes. "Lovely! Now teach Tom here. You really are just light years ahead of him."

"Oh I am. Speaking of being better than you! When do you want to do that rematch boy?" You looked at him, away from your pan of scrambling eggs. Although, Harrison was in the dark.

Tom scoffed. "We can do it whenever you want. You won on because of lag and I still call bullshit."

"Anyone want to fill me in?" Harrison felt the slightest ping of jealousy that you and Tom had inside jokes and stories. He knew that you knew him longer and all that. But he pushed it down. After all, you weren't kissing Tom on the couch last night.

Your voice brought him back to reality. "He and I played a series of Call of Duty: World War 2 games and I won overall and he got pissy. He also claims I only won because of lag on his end. I say he's a sore loser." As you finished your sentence you plated your eggs and stuck your tongue out. Then you sat back down next to Harrison.

"When you're done I'm kicking your ass." In a condescending manner, you nodded your head to play along. You sat and ate your eggs while he finished his sandwich.

Eventually both of you finished your food and Tom dragged you to the couch and turned on the TV.

"Can we use the Xbox? I'm trash on Playstation."

He groaned. "Fine. Either way I'll win. But we play a few public rounds to warm up and then I pick the first style of game we play."

"Whatever. Neither of us has played in a hot minute so let's see how this goes." You cracked your knuckles and the 3rd person in the room simply watched in amusement. Plus, he thought it was kind of attractive you knew how to play video games. You were cool as hell, played video games, and could cook. He found the most well rounded girl in the world. He watched both of you play some team deathmatch and he had to admit, you weren't horrible. You knew what you were doing and held your own.

Tom left the lobby and you looked at him. "Ok I've gone positive the whole time. So I am either set or it's all downhill from here. How about instead of 1v1 we just see who does better each round of a public game? 1v1 is boring."

"Fine but I'm picking the first game." His voice got sly and he smirked. You watched in fear as he selected your worst game mode. "Get fucked Y/N."

"Noo can't we just play regular team deathmatch or like kill confirmed? People kick my ass in any hardcore mode."

The non-player spoke up to settle everything. "Just play free for all and whoever is higher is better. Duh."

You and Tom looked at each other and agreed. Then you made your classes and played for a while. Harrison tried to make a joke about you only using SMGs and like 1 assault rifle. All you did was respond with a “careful Harrison” in a warning tone and he backed down while laughing. In the end, Tom came out better than you by 2 games. Once Tom got his moment of being a sore winner out of his system you asked the boys how the party was going to happen. Harrison spoke first.

“I say we go to the liquor store first. I want to see the guys face of us buying so much shit before 2 pm.” He came up behind you on the couch. You leaned your head back and smiled up at the blue eyes above you. He winked at you in a flirty manner.

Picking your head back up you looked to Tom. “Now Tom, not to be a smart ass,” he scoffed, “shut it. But will people say something about you running into a liquor store then buying a ton?” You looked at him and he went into thought.

“I guess it wouldn’t look great for someone through Disney to clean them out. But take my card when you go. I will get food and some stuff. That way it looks fine. Plus, we can still get trashed.” Everyone agreed with that plan. “Ok so Haz you and Y/N go get the booze, enough to make all our livers cry, and I will get other stuff. Meet back here.”

So you and Harrison went off to the store after you changed into some shorts. Luckily, booze was a generally understood and universal concept. Everything was sorted out as usual, but this time there was a few different European selections, and an American section.

“So what do you want? Tom made the mistake of leaving us his card, so we can get top shelf stuff.” Harrison looked to you with mischief in his eyes. You liked it, but the good friend in you told him no need to go crazy.

Walking towards the vodka, grabbing some schnapps, you turned to scold him. “I am not taking advantage of my rich friend. I will get some stuff on my own. But I don’t see the harm in the bulk coming from him. Nothing crazy though, we get a lot and get make sure we get drunker than a French skunk. Put down the Everclear! I did that my freshman year and don’t remember a thing past the second shot.”

“That’s impressive! But fine at least grab the Ciroc and that kind of nice stuff. If we are going all out for this then we are doing it right. No protests! You only party in London once love.” He grabbed some various vodka bottles and you got a couple other varieties of rum, whisky, and some silver tequila. Between you both you looked like you could restock the busiest pub in town.

As you were walking out of the store you asked him, “Hey wait. Who all is coming to this tonight anyway? I only know you, Tom, and his family.”

“Uh I think the twins, some of his Marvel friends, and some of our friends along with co-stars.” He spoke as if it was a normal thing to casual get trashed with celebrities. However, you stopped right at the car.

“I’m sorry did you say Marvel people and co-stars?! Like it’s nothing? I can’t meet famous people! And I for sure can’t get trashed in front of them.” You looked at him as if he had lost his mind.

The bafflement on his face was clear. “Why not? You know Tom. They are normal people. It’ll be fine. We don’t hate your presence, neither will they. And they don’t care if you get drunk. I have seen plenty of Tom’s Marvel co-stars get very drunk. The co-stars are around our age it’s fine.” His words made you feel a little better, but the nerves were there regardless. Both of you drove back and carried everything into Tom’s apartment. He turned to you both as you came in.

“Awesome you’re back. The food, pizza mainly, is ordered and will be here on time. People will start showing up around 7 I think.” You nodded. That gave you plenty of time to get ready. Since celebs were going to be there, you wanted to look your best. Tom spoke again and snapped you out of your planning. “I say we be ready by 6 or half past and pregame just us."

"Works for me. I am going to make a drink myself to sip on while I get ready."

"Y/N you literally have like 3 hours." The boys looked at you like you were crazy.

"True. But I like getting ready early so it can settle and I am not rushed. I like to take my time. Don't worry I'll be ready before 6." You made a vodka cranberry and walked off to start your process. Admitting it to no one, you were excited to get ready. This kind of stuff was fun, you got in the zone and did your thing. Eventually, you found yourself in a towel trying to work the shower. Every time you use a new shower, it’s like trying to solve a Rubik’s cube. You sighed and gave up hope.

From the main room the boys heard you yell that you can’t work the shower. Both looked at each other after. Tom smirked and looked back to his phone. “You go. I know you want to.” When Harrison didn’t move he spoke again. “What are you waiting for?! A hot girl is waiting in a towel. Have you ever seen American Pie?”

“Shut it mate. You’re an idiot.” He got up and started walking towards where you called from.

From the couch the actor mumbled, “At least I didn’t freeze when a girl called needing help with the shower.”

You heard the knock at the door and said come in. Expecting Tom, you smiled when Harrison walked in instead. “Sorry.. I just don’t know how to get the water started.”

“It’s fine love.” You thought it was cute how he was trying, trying, to look anywhere but you. What a gentleman you thought. The smile on your face and the blush on his was adorable.

“Harrison, you’re allowed to look at me. It’s a towel, not the direct blaze of the sun.” His blue eyes met your e/c ones and he smiled faintly at you.

Turning the water on then scratching the back on his neck he smiled again and said, “Sorry, I just didn’t want to be rude.”

He started walking out and you said it’s totally fine and that you didn’t mind. As he shut the door you thanked him and slipped in. Music playing and you singing along put you in a good mood. Taking your time, you enjoyed the hot water with your nice travel products. Plus,Tom had a nice shower.

Soon your shower was done and you slipped out to your room. Keeping the towel on you put on some lotion, brushed your hair, put in some product, and sat down to begin your makeup. This didn’t take long, it was just that you took your time to get it right. You kept YouTube music and videos playing. Hair drying, drink being drank, and makeup looking on point made you feel damn good. It’s like Iiza Shlesinger said, ‘You know when you look hot.’ Your clothes weren’t even on and you felt great. The nerves of famous people being around lessened. You were relaxed. Next thing you did was drop the towel and put your outfit on. Luckily, you asked Tom what kind of a party this was going to be. He told you to dress like you were going to a casual club with your friends; so a simple but sexy outfit. No need to dress for a popular club in LA or New York, but not jeans or basic stuff. This was more than your college parties so you put your simple black dress. It was the kind that could be worn at a party, a cocktail dinner, or even a funeral (not to be morbid, but to note that it is still formal and not too slutty) it just mattered how you worked it. Zipping it up, you grabbed your black platforms and stood up. Unlike most girls, you liked wearing heels. Yes, they hurt by the end of the night but it was fine. Not to mention, at school you didn’t wear them out too much since you would walk back around outside more. That and you were typically lit when you did. Friends leaning on each other were no held if they were just as gone. But not tonight! For the finishing touches you swapped out a couple rings, put on your leather and Alex and Ani bracelets, and your earrings and necklace. Doing one final look over in the mirror, you were satisfied. The time read 5:38. Perfect. Spraying some perfume on, you went to see what the boys were doing.

Walking out you heard the microwave go off and smelled popcorn. You noticed Tom was in a nicer shirt and shoes. Harrison changed as well into some more appropriate clothes. His jeans were darker and his red shirt looked good in contrast to his light hair, which was brushed and styled a little. As Tom turned with the popcorn, he heard the clack of your heels as you approached and leaned on the island. He whistled lightly, you blushed and smiled, and Harrison looked up and his jaw dropped. Never before had you made a man’s jaw drop and it simply added to your confidence. 

“I don’t know about you guys, but I am ready to party.” Your eyes lingered on Harrison and the corner of your lips turned up. You finished your drink and took a grab at the popcorn. Tom made you a new one while Harrison kept his eyes on you. He took in how you looked more dressed up compared to your cute and casual looks from before. In his mind, you looked sexy. No doubt about it.

Despite his mind being rattled, “Y/N you look great,” is all he managed to get out.

Tom nodded and set out three shot glasses. “I gotta agree. On vacation you never dressed like this.”

“Well that was me in high school. An awkward dork who didn’t do this stuff that often. Let alone know how to do it well. But I have a few years of college under my belt. You haven’t seen me in action Tom.” The shot glasses were filled with Ciroc. You all cheered and downed the shots. When you didn’t wince, both became impressed. Even they coughed or cringed a bit. You grabbed another. You could hold you liquor quite well and knew a couple shots to start would be fine until later tonight. After downing the second easily you walked over to Harrison and put your hand on his shoulder. His arm went to your waist.

From the other side of the island Tom just looked at your shot glass, back to you, smiled and said, “Shit. This is gonna be a great night.”

°••°••°••°••°••°••°

Next chapter will be the party. Sorry if this wasn’t enough Harrison and stuff, you don’t like the swearing, or the booze was something you didn’t like.. Also, this may be boring to you. Idk I like the “domestic” and simple writing sometimes. Nice filler and fun is always good.

As always, I hope those who read liked it. Feel free to comment, like, and reblog!

[weelittleweasley]

City Girl Part Three | Archie x Reader

Prompt: After the incident at Archie’s house, it left you confused and Archie heartbroken. A week has passed and both Betty and Veronica have tried to get you to work things out with him, but you bushed them off and told them you needed time to yourself. Archie yearns for you still, but he isn’t sure if he can get you back.

 Back at home after a hookup was over with, gossip would contaminate the school halls in seconds. Rumors spread like wildfires—they could only be put out by confrontation. Girls would gather in the bathrooms talking about how the guy was now available and the next move they were to make if they wanted him next. Guys congregated in the locker room to talk to the guy who was hooking up with the girl to see if she was any good. It was like the animal kingdom back there. Everyone was out for blood.

At Riverdale High, there was none of that. No one was gossiping. No one was starting rumors, well, maybe Cheryl and her minions. It was a week after you and Archie called it quits, so if there was any hype, it was dead by now.

You were walking in the halls after class last period ended and Betty linked her arm with yours. “Hey there,” she smiled brightly at you as you returned one. That was the thing about Betty Cooper, she always knew how and when to make you feel better. “Veronica and I are headed to Pop’s. I have the car, so I can drive us all there,” she offers.

“Thanks, B. But I have a lot of work to do. I have to finish this lab report and then tutor this freshman in French tomorrow, so I have to print a lesson plan for him. I thank you for the offer though,” you say as you try to make your way out of the building, trying to find someone to hitch a ride home from.

Betty grabs your arm, pulling you back to her. “Oh come on. I’ve asked you every day this week to come out and you’ve made an excuse every time,” Betty tries to guilt you. You huff and avert your eyes from hers, knowing that she’s giving you that look. “I know that you want a chocolate malt shake…” she trails off, dangling her car keys in front of your face.

Man, that sounds good.

You softly smile and Betty lets out giggle, knowing that she has won. “Alright, alright. But I have to be home before six or my mom will have my head on a silver platter!” you threaten as Betty brushes the comment off. The two of you find Veronica and drag her along to Pop’s.

As the three of you exit the school, the cool fall breeze encompasses you as you pull your coat closer to your body, trying to keep warm. Betty and Veronica start to chatter about a Trigonometry test they took earlier in the day, fighting over the right answer, but you tune them out. Looking past the parking lot, you see Archie’s car. The car is empty, but you can’t help but feel a little sick looking at it.

You remember sitting in his car, listening to the R&B station as you two just sat there hanging out. He would flip through the channels if a crappy song came on, trying to find a better song. Instead, the static sound came blaring in because he only paid for ten channels of satellite radio. “Oh my God, just turn it off. I’ll plug my phone in,” you’d laugh, trying to push his hand away from the tuning knob.

“Stop, I know that there is a Hits One Station on here somewhere,” he’d laugh, tickling your sides to get you to stop as you squealed. Finally, he’d find what he was looking for. “See! I told you I’d find it!”

“Yeah, it took you long enough. I just turned eighteen,” you’d tease, sipping your cherry cola. He gave you a look that would make you giggle and you’d say in response, “I’m kidding.”

Archie would lean over the middle console and grab your chin. “Patience is a virtue, my dear,” he’d say before kissing your lips tenderly.

“(Y/N)? Are you okay?” Veronica said, snapping you out of your trance.

You looked to her and Betty, clearing your throat. Shaking your head with the light laugh, you tell them, “I’m good. I’m just thinking.” Even though they didn’t believe you, they continued to talk as you all piled into her car.

When you arrived at Pop’s, something seemed off. Betty and Veronica were both silent the entire car ride with only a few sentences murmured here and there. Hopping out of Betty’s car, you noticed that Jughead’s car was also here. “Betty, I didn’t know Jug was meeting us here?” you say almost as a question.

“Oh,” she says, but the quality of her voice didn’t seem to match what she was saying. “I guess he decided he wanted to tag along.” Veronica leads you three in as you furrow your eyebrows.

Why were they acting so strange?

As the bell rang signifying you walked in, you looked at Betty and V to speak. “Guys, what’s going on?” When the words escaped your lips, you saw what they were staring at.

Tucked away in the third booth was Jughead. Sitting across from his was that redhead who made your heart skip a beat. He wore that stupid Letterman jacket you always made fun of him for wearing, but he wore that beat up thing with so much pride. He fiddled with his thumbs at the table as if he was waiting for something, in this case, someone. His eyes met yours and they were filled with so much hope it made your heart hurt. A small smile came across his face as if to say, “She’s here.”

You looked at Jug and he stood up, knowing that you were not going to agree to do this. That statement was true. Looking to Betty and Veronica, you shook your head. “Absolutely not. I can’t do this,” you said, tears slowly welling up in your eyes. Trying to escape the diner before anyone could do anything, Juggie grabbed your waist pulling you backwards.

“(Y/N), please,” he begged. “You need to talk to him. For both of your sakes.”

You looked to Betty and Veronica for some back up, but you knew that they devised this plan. “Jughead is right. You guys need to talk,” Veronica said.

“There is nothing to talk about. End of story,” you say through gritted teeth. How could they go behind your backs like this? They knew how hurt you were already.

“(Y/N)?” a voice said from behind you as you turned around to meet his gaze. There, Archie stood, his hands tucked in his jean pockets meekly. “I just want to talk. Nothing else…”

Staring at him, you gulped. God, he was gorgeous. You turned to your friends and told them it was okay to go. Slowly, you walked over to his booth and sat down across from him. “Well,” you start. “What did you want to talk about?”

Archie licked his lips and then bit his lower lip in thought. You missed his kisses. You missed him, period. “The day we were in my room,” he starts, but you cut him off. “Archie, I don-“

“Hear me out,” he states. “The day we were in my room. You told me that you couldn’t be in a relationship because of what happened.” You nod your head. “What happened, (Y/N)?” You start to get up from the table, knowing that this is going to get out of hand too quickly. Archie grabs your hands and stops you from leaving, his touch making your ache for him. “Stop. I just want to know if I made the same mistake that happened before. Please.”

“You didn’t Archie,” you tell him. “You didn’t do anything wrong.” Archie furrows his eyebrows in confusion. You sigh, knowing that you are going to have to recount the past. “The first relationship I was in was the summer going into high school. It was a boy that I met the summer before and we started to like each other. I thought it would be great. We would be going to the same school, starting a new chapter together. Everything seemed perfect,” you softly smiled at the memories of tanned skin and innocent pecks being shared with your boyfriend.

Archie shakes his head, understanding every word. “It was far from it,” he finishes. You nod your head. “Drew was his name. He was a year older than me and he got into alcohol and drugs. I was completely clueless to all of it. I thought that he was always the sober one when he went out to parties. Turns out I was wrong. Two weeks before school started, his friend had a last hoorah party at his place. Drew went and got crazy drunk. He originally drove to the party, so he thought that he could drive home since his apartment was two blocks over. So, he got in the car and…” you trail off, the memories flooding back to you like a tsunami.

You remember getting a call at one in the morning from his dad, saying that Drew was in a car accident. When the ambulances got there, the car was flipped over and Drew was declared dead at the scene of the accident. You remember the phone dropping to the floor and your knees buckling from underneath you. Your throat was on fire from sobbing as your mom cradled you in her lap.

Before you knew it, Archie was holding you tight as you buried your face in his neck, little sobs escaping your lips. He hushed you and rubbed your back, making you feel safe in his arms. “It’s okay. Everything is fine. I’m here, (Y/N),” he says, kissing the top of your head.

You look up at him, wiping your face. “I shouldn’t have let him out that night. He should have stayed home with me. It was my fault. I told myself I wouldn’t let myself get attached again to someone like that. I was too fragile,” you confess as Archie grabs his face in your hands.

“Look at me,” he says, your eyes meeting his soft brown ones. “I am not Drew. I’m not gonna make the same mistakes he did. And what happened was awful and I’m sorry you had to go through that. But that was not your fault. You need to know that just because he made a mistake doesn’t mean it’s also yours,” he tells you, rubbing your cheeks as you lay your face against his warm hands. His eyes were filled with compassion and adoration. You couldn’t help yourself from doing what came next.

You immediately grabbed his face, connecting your lips with his. It felt so right to be kissing him again. He was obviously taken aback by this and after a few seconds, he relaxed and pressed his lips harder against yours. His touch made you crazy and you craved him after being without him for so long. Pulling away, you pressed your forehead against his. “I promise that I am going to protect you no matter what. Okay?” he says, staring into your eyes. You smile in return as he presses his lips onto yours again. “God, I’ve missed you,” you speaks against your lips.

Breaking away from your kiss you say, “I got lucky with you, Andrews.” He laughs and says, “You hit the jackpot.” You roll your eyes as he kisses your cheek, knowing that what he said before was true. This boy was going to protect you no matter what it was.

And that’s exactly what he did.

[crystalstar8]

Knights of the Night (ch. 5)

Chapter 5

Ch 1, ch 2, ch 3, ch 4, ch 5

https://archiveofourown.org/works/29139240/chapters/71536491

pairing: Jungkook x oc

genre: vampire au, college au, twilight, romance

word count: 1,942

warnings: blood (obviously), kidnapping, child kidnapping, needles, France

notes: vampires, vampire au, college, college au, so many twilight references, blood, needles, kidnapping, children, homelessness, dance, ballet, flashbacks, romance, slow burn, probably no smut, idk yet tho, France, French things, attempted genocide, inaccurate French history, bisexual main character, @strawberriewithchocolate-blog @mozy-j  @daechwitad-2​

summary: Catalina starts college in a small town all the way across the country. She doesn’t know anyone and isn’t exactly looking for friends. She just wants to focus on dance. But when she meets fellow dance major, Jimin, and adventurous, fellow freshman, Jungkook, Catalina ends up discovering a whole new side to the small college town; one that is dangerous but oh so enticing...

               “Come downstairs and meet our new friends!” said Hoseok.

               Catalina’s eyes widened when she saw the person coming around the corner upstairs. He was bookmarking the book in his hands and closing it. As he walked down the stairs, Catalina took in his sharp, intelligent eyes, his full lips and otherwise soft features. His hair was styled delicately over his forehead, his shoulders were broad, his chest was big, even under his sweater and…

               Catalina knew those thighs.

               Jungkook choked beside Catalina and nudged her.

               “Thighs,” he whispered. Catalina nodded.

               “We saw you in the souvenir shop the other day,” said Catalina. “I’m sorry, uh, my name is Catalina.”

               “It’s nice to meet you,” Namjoon said with a smile, his dimples appearing. Catalina blushed. He was way too gorgeous. “Yeah, Hoseok and I stopped there on our way into town the other day. I think I remember seeing you two there.”

               “Oh! You guys work at the souvenir store!” said Hoseok. “I knew you looked kinda familiar.”

               “Yeah, we’re only there on the weekends,” said Jungkook. “We’re only gonna be working for the season.”

               “It seems like an interesting job,” said Hoseok. “You’ll get to see all the tourists.”

               “You guys are all students?” asked Namjoon. Catalina, Jungkook and Jimin all nodded. He asked them about their majors and what kinds of classes they were taking, which they happily answered until Catalina caught a glimpse of the time.

               “Guys, it’s three am,” she said. “We should probably head home.”

               “Oh jeez, we have that stupid French class at eight tomorrow,” said Jungkook.

               “We won’t keep you then,” said Taehyung. “Classes are important.”

               Taehyung walked them all out, through the front door this time, and the three friends began making their way back to the car.

               “Well, that was interesting,” said Catalina. “We didn’t die, so that was cool.”

               “I thought they were all pretty cool!” said Jungkook. “I mean, still a bit weird, but cool.”

               “Taehyungie wants me to teach him how to play video games,” said Jimin.

               “He wants you to teach him?” Jungkook asked with a laugh. Jimin smacked his arm.

               “We’ll be learning together,” said Jimin.

               “That’s so cute,” said Catalina. “You already have a nickname for him. Anyway, I have a question: why the hell were they all so attractive?”

               “I was thinking the same thing!” said Jimin. “It didn’t make any sense! Like, normal people don’t look like that. They were way too beautiful.”

               “We’re normal people though,” said Jungkook. Catalina and Jimin looked at him in confusion. “I mean, we’re hot too. Sometimes people are just hot.”

               “We’re like, normal people hot though,” said Jimin. “Those guys were like…gods or something.”

               “Yeah, way too pretty. Perfect skin, perfect hair, all charming,” said Catalina.

               “Red eyes,” Jimin mumbled.

               “Okay fine, they were unusually pretty,” said Jungkook. “I’m just glad we got some awesome footage today. I can’t wait to dump this.”

               “Okay, well don’t do it tonight, because we do have class tomorrow morning,” said Catalina.

 ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

               Catalina was running again. Always running. Her feet were bare and her lungs burned. The concrete beneath her feet gave way to metal grating. Her footsteps clanged and echoed here as she made her way through the tunnels. She glanced behind her. It was dark, but she could see a set of red eyes approaching her, almost glowing. These eyes weren’t the ones she was used to. These were mean. These eyes looked at her like she was prey. The man who the eyes belonged to walked, as if it didn’t take much effort to chase after her. He had a sickening smile on his face.

               Catalina needed to get out of these tunnels. If she could get back to her friends, they’d protect her.

               “Here, kitty, kitty,” the man said, his voice mirthful. “Don’t you know trespassers get eaten, little kitty?”

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

               “I don’t remember what he looked like, but I remember what he said,” Catalina said to Jungkook as they made their way to the library. “He said, ‘Don’t you know trespassers get eaten, little kitty?’ Just like in your story.”

               “That’s creepy,” said Jungkook. “He had red eyes though? Was he one of those guys from the house?”

               “No, definitely not,” said Catalina. “I remember thinking about them, and you and Jimin, and thinking that I needed to reach you guys because you’d keep me safe. This is the first time I could remember so much.”

               “I wonder what these dreams mean,” Jungkook said as he opened the library door for her.

               “Thanks. Yeah, I have no idea,” said Catalina.

               “Maybe they’re prophetic,” said Jungkook.

               “God, I hope not,” Catalina said as they approached the table. Jin and Jimmy K were both sitting there, textbooks open.

               “Well, well, well,” said Jin. “Look who decided to finally show up today.”

               “You don’t have to greet us like that every time,” said Jungkook as Catalina laughed.

               “How are you guys today?” asked Catalina.

               “Now that you’re here? Fantastic,” said Jimmy K with a wink.

               Catalina blushed and said, “Okay, that’s enough, captain.”

               Catalina and Jungkook sat down as Jin began their tutoring session and Jimmy K studied silently beside them.

 ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

               “So, game night,” said Jimin. “Do either of you know what to expect tonight?”

               “Nope! I’m just excited to sit around and eat,” said Catalina. “Take a right up ahead.”

               “Where? There’s no driveway, oh wait,” Jungkook turned into a somewhat overgrown driveway, hidden by the woods. “Also, we have a premier to watch!”

               “They’re gonna love it,” said Catalina. “Jimin, did you have fun yesterday?”

               “I did! Hoseok is a really good dancer,” he said. It’s been a week since they broke into the house and met Taehyung, Hoseok, and Namjoon. Yesterday, Catalina and Jimin had invited Hoseok to a freestyle session in the campus studio. He was happy to join them and show off his moves. They all ended up teaching each other different styles, but it was mostly Catalina and Jimin asking Hoseok to teach them the pop and lock style he was so good at.

               Jungkook’s car pushed through the heavily overgrown driveway until they reached cobblestone, which led right up to the mansion. Catalina closed her phone map and said, “Well, it’s good to know there’s an easier way up here.”

               “Yeah, I thought we’d have to keep hiking up those rocks every time,” said Jungkook as he put the car into park. The three friends piled out of the car, arms full of snacks, wearing their comfiest pajamas. The porch lights of the mansion were on, illuminating Taehyung as he opened the front door.

               “Welcome!” he shouted. “Did you find it okay?”

               “Yeah, Hoseok texted us a route,” said Catalina.

               “You guys and your fancy telephones,” said Taehyung. He let them in and they all took off their shoes. “So, we were thinking some board games tonight. Or card games. Or a game Hoseok described to us called Pictionary. Or we can just chat. Or-“

               “Tae, that all sounds great,” said Catalina.

               “Right, sorry,” he chuckled. “Here, follow me.”

               They followed Taehyung through a few halls before entering a cozy lounge. Big plush couches lined three walls, a flat screen tv was mounted against one wall and a low coffee table sat in the center of the room. Hoseok and Namjoon stood up from the couch as they entered. The smile fell from Taehyung’s face.

               “Where’s Yoongi?” he asked.

               “He said he wasn’t in the mood for game night,” said Namjoon.

               “Who’s Yoongi?” asked Jimin.

               “He’s our other roommate,” said Namjoon. “He’s been tired these days.”

               “He promised!” Taehyung pouted. “He told me he’d come to game night.”

               “Let’s go find him then,” said Hoseok.

               “I’ll go with you!” said Catalina. “I really want to see the house.”

               “Me too!” said Jimin.

               “Me three,” said Jungkook.

               “Okay, Tae tae, Namjoon, you two stay here and set up a game. I’ll give these three a tour,” said Hoseok. They dumped the snacks onto the coffee table and followed Hoseok out of the room.

               He led them through the massive house, through rooms so grand, Catalina wondered how big this house actually was.

               “This is the library,” said Hoseok. The room they were in was enormous. The ceiling was cavernous and domed and the bookshelves towered high.

               “This is an impressive collection,” said Catalina.

               “I know, these guys do love their books,” said Hoseok. “They’ve been collecting for years I guess.”

               “I’m sure,” said Catalina.

               Hoseok then led them through several hallways then showed off his bedroom. His room was so unlike the rest of the house, it felt like stepping into another world. Everything was bright and colorful, there were brand posters all over the walls and an impressive shoe collection beside the closet, which was open and showing off an array of colorful clothes. Hoseok then took them on a walk through the conservatory. There wasn’t much growing right now. It was mostly cracked marble and empty pots.

               “Maybe we can fill this room with plants next summer,” said Hoseok.

               “I garden with my mom every year,” said Jimin. “I’d love to help.”

               “That would be very nice,” said Hoseok. “This house deserves to be put back together again. It’s just so pretty.”

               He then led them back through the house. As they walked the halls, chatting about their classes and classmates, Catalina could hear the faint sound of a pipe organ.

               “Ah, he must be in the auditorium,” said Hoseok. Catalina’s eyes widened.

               “The auditorium?” asked Jimin. “You guys have an auditorium in here?”

               “With a pipe organ?” asked Catalina. Hoseok chuckled and rolled his eyes.

               “I know, right?” he said. “These guys are so dramatic. I guess they’re used to a certain lifestyle and they’re all rich for some reason…I mean, back in collage, I was happy when I could afford a cup of ramen in my one room dorm.”

               They followed the sound of the pipe organ until they came to the auditorium. The three friends gasped as they entered. The auditorium wasn’t huge, but it was incredibly elaborate. When Catalina was about twelve, her mother had taken her to a show at the Detroit Masonic Temple. This auditorium reminded her of the Masonic Temple auditorium, all carved wood and velvet seats. Up on the stage was a huge, ornate organ. The pipes lined the walls near the ceiling, emitting long, haunting notes. A man sat at the organ, hunched over the keys.

               “Yoonie-boonie honey-baby!” Hoseok shouted in his loudest, cutsey-est voice. The man at the organ stopped playing. Hoseok skipped down the aisle and hopped up onto the stage. “We have visitors, come meet them!”

               The man turned around slowly to look at them. He was just as beautiful as the other residents of the house. His eyes were dark red, just like the others, catlike and tired. His round face was pale, his lips in a slight pout.

               “I thought we weren’t having humans at the house,” Yoongi said. Hoseok laughed loudly, slapping his knee.

               “We’re all human here, so I’m not sure what that means!” said Hoseok. Catalina and Jungkook laughed along with him as Jimin just looked at them with wide eyes. Yoongi seemed like an interesting character. “Come to game night with us. I miss my honey-boy Yoonie bear.”

               Yoongi stood up and looked down at Catalina, Jungkook and Jimin from the stage.

               “It’s nice to meet you,” he said. “Will there be food at game night?”

               “I brought salt and vinegar chips,” said Jimin.

               “I brought chocolate,” said Catalina. Yoongi pointed at her.

               “A woman after my own heart,” said Yoongi. “I’ll come.”

[lysitheaioandeuropa]

All the autumnal asks

ayyy

lantern - how did you meet your best friend? What were your first impressions of each other?'best friends' are so arbitrary. but michelle and i had the same training class at work and she thought i was intimidating lmao i thought she was odd but then realized she was actually cool. we're kind of inseparable now. i want to say my partner is my best friend as well, aside from being my gf we rly do have a close bond and i like talking to her and sharing things with her. of course both of those relationships are different dynamics, but i tell her everything, even shit that i know she's not interested in but she'll enjoy listening bc i am lmao and vice versa, and i wouldn't want it any other way

frost - if you could give some advice to your younger self, what would you say?oh MAN. i always say i wish i could go back and just do high school and on all over again knowing what i know now. i would cry a lot my freshman year bc i didn't have any friends and like, i wish i would have known to seek out help? and i wish i had known how outright abusive my first boyfriend was and how not good for me the other couple were. that "attention" doesn't always equate to good, and being violated multiple times against my wishes was something i should have found an adult i trusted and talked about with. i wish i could tell myself to work so much harder for what i want. i wish i knew i was gay sooner lmfao, like i KNEW but kids today are more exposed to that now, it's so easy to find a label or lack thereof for yourself with information at the tip of your hands you know (also kinda wish i didn't grow up in a church at all). i didn't figure out a label until.. far too late in life i think. i wish i knew to not feel guilty about it, to talk about it to other people, to not have to struggle with having crushes on just about all my friends and just being so confused about it lmao. anyway, i just want to make better choices for myself and a better person.

maple - is there a hobby / skill that you’ve always wanted to try but never did?i rly rly wanted to learn to play the harp.

harvest - what fictional character do you most identify with? Why?i'm not sure, none of the fictional characters i read about or anything are relatable to me. i do admire so many of them though

fireside - if you had your dream wardrobe, what would it look like?who knows bro lmfao i have no idea what my aesthetic is lmao. it would be absolutely flawless though and would have a bit evertything. punk, goth, “professional,” whatever. right now i just think i am stuck in “ugly old lady hag” and i don’t know what to do about it. i absolutely hate my entire fucking wardrobe rn

cider - a food that you disliked as a child but now enjoy?i know there are quite a few things actually, but currently the only thing that comes to mind is salad dressing lol. i used to have all my salads naked but now i like italian and caesar but just those two

amber - share an unpopular opinion that you may have.SUMMER IS NOT THE VILLAIN IN 500 DAYS EVERY MAN THAT THINKS SHE IS MISSED THE ENTIRE POINT OF THE MOVIE. TOM IS PROBLEMATIC ACCEPT THAT SHIT.

SAME GOES FOR FUCKING TED AND ROBIN. LIKE YES YOU KNOW FROM EPISODE ONE THAT THEY ARE END GAME AND YOU EVEN ROOT FOR THEM AT TIMES, BUT LIKE NO IT SHOULDN'T HAVE ENDED LIKE THAT.

fog - how well do you think you’d do in a zombie apocalypse scenario?i say this all the time i would not survive that shit lmao, i hope i rly do find a way to make it or die within the first couple seconds bc i'ma be pissed if i put in all that work to still die before there is a cure. i wanna see how society is reconstructed or if it is at all like that'd be more interesting than TWD of FTWD

jack-o-lantern - if you could look like any celebrity, who would you choose?shay mitchell

spice - have you ever encountered a house that you believed to be haunted?no but i am watching paranormal survivors atm

orchard - share one thing that you’d like to happen this autumn.gingerbread houses & a nice gift exchange. i'm excited to spend most if not all of the holidays together

crow - which school subject do you wish you had an aptitude for?i pretty much have an aptitude for everything but i'm not like spectacular at anything. so i guess music bc i didn't practice anywhere near enough as i should have

bonfire - describe your dream house.two-story w maybe three bedrooms (i guess 4 if i magically end up having 2 kids). i would like "den" so to speak as an office/library space. i prefer open layouts with a lot of natural light available. enough greenlife in a balcony upstairs, the backyard has nice landscaping and a huge deck. whole thing is fenced in, white picket type thing so my neighbors ain't sneaking. it would be nice if it looked over a lake of some sort. i have a nice vision in my mind that i know i can't put into words. ideally we'll build a lot of it ourselves. the master suite would be NICEEE w french doors leading out to the balcony as well. bathroom has both, a nice porcelain tub and a two-headed shower (in this fantasy we can afford that kinda sewage bill). floors are hardwood all around, and matching marble countertops in the bathroom(s). the kitchen is a nice tile as well. cabinets are a pretty hard wood as well. alternative is a nife spacious open loft with everything mentioned, except the balcony is much bigger and access to a rooftop deck of our own. a loooot of glass, a lot of natural light over looking a huge city. in the perfect world i'd have that view of the space needle on one side and the mountain range on the other.

cinnamon - if you had to live in a time period different than the present, which would you choose and where?there are no previous time periods that are exactly good for women of color

cobweb - (if you’ve graduated) do you miss high school?fuck no. but i would still want to redo it better. the only thing i miss i not having to pay bills but.. everything else i dealt with wasn't worth the tradeoff

cranberry - what’s one physical feature that you get complimented on?uhh i don't get complimented. however, every year students have said "ohh she's really pretty!" lol like they're surprised and i'm not what they expected

maize - share the weirdest encounter you’ve had with a stranger on the street.i can't rly think of any.

quilt - how do you take your tea (or coffee)?hazelnut flavored coffee w half and half, & 3 splenda

pumpkin - do you think that humans are inherently good or bad?bad, i don't trust anyone to be good enough to be as such "inherently"

moonlit - are you a neat or messy person? Is your room / house orderly?SUPER NEAT  however, depression can get in the way of that. but even then my messy is not at all someone else's messy i'm just picky. my house and room are very orderly and i'm not fixing to have it be otherwise

flannel - have you ever gone on a bad date? not like a date horror story, and the one's i've had in my last & current relationship have been rly nice. but i think before some of the dates i had were certainly questionable

cocoa - if you could have any type of hair, what colour and cut would you have?i mean if i could have any i would try them all or change them at whim. rn though i just want my long dark curly hair again

ghost - is there someone that you miss having in your life?yeah dude, a ton to be honest. but it is what it is

[rosepenrants]

!!!Trigger Warning!!!

I’m currently 18 years old. I lost my virginity to my boyfriend, at the time, at age 14. You know how when you meet your first love they become your first everything? Well, in this case...everything means, everything. I thought he was making me happy. I thought HE was the reason I was still alive. When he caught wind of that statement, he knew that I’d do anything for him. And I would. And I did. Let me start at the beginning....

Freshman year of high school. I knew a couple people from my middle school, but I wasn’t that popular, at all. Our homecoming fell on October 30th, and the people I had met up with, ditched me on the dance floor. Before I left for the game/dance, I was thinking for hours. And I talked myself out of committing suicide. I told myself if I didn’t make at least one friend tonight, I would go through with it. I’m standing all alone on the dance floor where the dj was, no one came near me. I zoned out, thinking about the ways I could’ve done it. Until he walked up to me and scared me. He was about 6′1″ while I was 5′4″. Since it was Halloween themed everyone was in costume. He mumbled something through his mask. I couldn’t hear him, he was wearing a robe with a hood that had a cloth covering his face, where his eyes should’ve been were two red glowing dots. I backed away as I said “I can’t hear you.” He took off his mask and the eyes and repeated “I said, ‘What are you doing just standing on the dance floor?’” I couldn’t answer, so he continued, “Do you know how to dance?” I just shook my head. I couldn’t confide in some stranger, so I stayed quiet while staring at my shoes. A couple minutes went by, and I was sure he had left by now, I looked up and was greeted by him. He looked disappointed for a second, once he realized I was looking at him he smiled, I just smiled back. He started to say something but as soon as he did, one of his friends came up and started talking, I knew his friend, we went to middle school together. His friend left and the boy before me continued, “Since you don’t know how to dance would you like to dance with me?” I smiled, thinking to myself that this could be the reason I stopped myself from doing that. I nodded, and it wasn’t a slow song at all. Yet he grabbed my hands and told me to start swaying with him. As the tempo kept increasing we did too. By the time the song was over we were jumping and laughing.We got off the dance floor after that and he asked me again, “Why were you just standing n the dance floor?” I told explained to him how the people I met up with had left me and I just started thinking. We got to talking, we got to know each other a little bit more, until I realized I didn’t know his name. He told me, and I exchanged the favor. The night was coming to an end, and he asked for my number, I gave it to him. He walked me out of the gym and to my dads car. He texted me as soon as he waved goodbye. I smiled and we texted almost all night. As Halloween day went on, we texted. I was handing out candy and he was with his friend and his friends little sister, trick-or-treating. He acted like he liked me, and I liked him. We didn’t have any classes together but most of our classes were close. He told me one night, that the next time he sees me in person, he’d kiss me. I hadn’t had my first kiss yet so I was scared. I didn’t tell him that. 

November 5th, he told me to stay after school for tutoring, his Spanish teacher, and my french teacher were the same person, so we stayed after together and talked while the teacher was helping other kids. I got done first and he told me to go behind the school and sit on a bench. I did, but I curled up in a ball, knees to my chest and my head in my knees. As he came out I finally confessed that I haven’t kissed anyone. He said it was okay and to just follow his lead. I did as he told. He stopped after a couple of seconds and started to laugh. I started to think that this was a prank, and he really didn’t like me. I was about to cry, but before I did, he told me that I just need to relax, put my feet on the ground and put a hand on his face. I did as he told me to. Everything he did in the kiss, I retaliated. About a week and a half goes by, and were still talking, but one day as I’m on the bus, I see him. And he’s with some girl, I thought they were friends until i saw them kiss. And i did know this girl, she went to my middle school, and she bullied me everyday. I texted him about it and he told me they were dating. I got depressed, I self harmed that night. His girlfriend told him to stop talking to me, and he did. After a month he texts me saying they broke up. We talk about it and he tells me it’s because he couldn’t stop thinking about me. I told him he needed to regain my trust, he did in about a month.

January 13th, we started to go out. We kissed in school and at our houses, but that’s all. Until about a week, he started to touch me. When I told him no, he said, “Well if I can’t pleasure you, can you pleasure me?” I wish I didn’t, but I agreed. We didn’t do anything except kiss for the rest of the night. The next day at school, he asks me to skip my 5th period, which was math class. I had first lunch, while he had third. So, I stayed in the small gym until he showed up. He took me to a staircase and told me there was no camera in here and rarely any teachers/staff came through it. I was scared, I’ve never skipped class before. He told me it was going to be alright. He made me feel safe. So I said okay. He leaned in and kissed me, as things got a little heated up, he pushed me against the wall behind me, and started to push me to my knees. Obviously if I hadn’t had my first kiss, I definitely didn’t know how to do this. He described to me how and made me do this until he came. This became routine, every school day during 5th period, he made me skip and pleasure him. He seemed to enjoy it, and if he was happy, I was happy. Or so I thought. This went on for the entirety of our relationship. A couple weeks in, after him begging me, I gave into him asking if he could pleasure me. But I didn’t want to do it at school, so we went to his house. and he did it. I enjoyed it and he did too.

February 10th, it was a school day, but it was a snow day. The snow was mushy and muddy, but it felt nice out. He texted me around 9 AM asking if I could come over.I told him not at the moment, my parents weren’t awake. He told me to sneak out and come over. I asked what was so urgent. He told me he needed me. Not the way I had been pleasuring him, he meant 100%. He wanted to have sex. I told him that I didn’t know if I was ready or not. He manipulated me, saying if I truly loved him, I’d go. I thought he was the only thing keeping me happy. I felt like I owed him my life. So I went. We were supposed to meet half way. But I ended up walking about 80% to his house. He met with me the last 20%. Once we got to his house he told me to take off my shoes outside. I did, but I just untied them cause he told me to stay on the porch while he makes sure his sister wasn’t in the living room. She wasn’t so I proceeded inside with no shoes. We walked to his room, and to secure the door, he pushed his dresser against the door. We sat on hi bed awkwardly, about 5 minutes of sitting there in silence, I was about to tell him that I was definitely NOT ready, but before I could get the words out, he kissed me. It still didn’t change my mind, so as he laid me down, I told him I wasn’t ready. He looked at me confused saying, “You love me right?” I nodded, “Then let me have you.” I didn’t say anything, and he took it as a go ahead. After he finished, he got up and told me to get dressed. It was my first time and he didn’t cuddle me or anything. I got dressed while he made sure the coast was clear, as it was we got outside, I put my shoes on and we started walking. He told me he loved me, and that he enjoyed it. I just agreed. He walked me to the end of his street. And kissed me bye, telling me to text him when i get home.

Throughout our relationship, we exchanged pictures, me more so than him. He also made me take videos of myself as well. I didn’t and still don’t like my body, so I hated that 100%. After sending those pictures and videos, I deleted them off my phone and the messages. Just off my phone, so he still had them. One day he asked me to send, and he sent one first. After I sent mine, they were off my phone immediately. His, I didn’t delete his. I would just delete our whole conversation. After this time I didn’t, I got straight in the shower. My mom told me to get dressed and come to her room. I did so. Back then, my parents went through mine and my sisters phones. I didn’t realize that’s what my mom was doing. So, I didn’t delete anything. She saw the ‘sexting’ we did after the pictures. She yelled saying “You don’t talk to someone like this unless you’ve had sex.” As she scrolled up she saw his picture. She asked me then if I had sex. I didn’t answer and she knew that meant that I had. She started to cry and my dad came up to their room. She told me to tell my dad. I did. I got yelled at and grounded. I was also forced to break up with my boyfriend. I did, in front of my parents. But at school we talked, and we started to date in secret. It was mid-March. One night I had a mental breakdown and almost killed myself. I wrote notes and everything. My boyfriend talked me down, told me to tear up each note, except his. He wanted me to bring his to school the next day. I did. When I got to school, I got informed that our schools power was out. And classes were cancelled until they ran again. School wasn’t cancelled just classes. I met up with my boyfriend and gave him the note. He read it, and didn’t cry or make a face. After he was done reading it, he folded it back up and put it in his pocket. He asked if I wanted to go to a place near school. I said sure. My fascination is nature, it calms me down. He brought me to a field. And took me to the middle of it. Since it was March, it was muddy. It was breath taking. I took it all in, and he grabbed me and hugged me. After about a minute of hugging, he pulled back and started kissing me sweetly. It got heated quickly, he pulled away from the kiss and simply said, “You might want to lay down for this.” I definitely didn’t want to do this, not after I tried to kill myself the night before. He was already laying me on my back, and I finally got the courage to say “No, I don’t want to do this.” His reply was too quick for comfort, he said firmly, “Sure you do, just be quiet.” And proceeded to undress me and his lower half. He broke the button off my pants, and got my black shirt all muddy. At this point I realized that this relationship couldn’t go any longer. That night I was thinking about all the times we’ve done something sexual. From the beginning I didn’t want to do it at all. Remind you, I was still skipping my 5th period to give him a blow job. Every day. I did some research, and as it turns out. Almost to the T, I was being date raped by my boyfriend. This whole time. After I broke it off, and was giving him his stuff back, he was threatening to kill himself. I talked him down, and I have barely spoken to him since.

I do have questions for him though...even though he won’t see this.

Why did you choose me at the dance? Why did you take advantage of me, day after day, after day? Why did you hurt me so much? Do you regret anything you did to me?