#Also can you fucking imagine how much this thang has to put away
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Oh you know what I'm about to do
#why is he standing like that#Also can you fucking imagine how much this thang has to put away#Imagine saying good morning to Wrathion and hes like 'HEM HEM YES GOOD MORNING!!' carefully removing his jaws from around your mount
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Disco Ball Diva
A/N: For @buckyshelves Merry Christmas, I hope you enjoy this and have a great festive holiday
To @bucky-smiles for organising this secret Santa gift exchange, you’re awesome and so, so kind
Also... thank you to my friend Haz who beta read this for me. You are always so supportive of my writing and I love you
Summary: You’re inappropriate, sassy, have snazzy powers, and now you’re an Avenger-in-training. Not everyone appreciates your blasé attitude, and when a surveillance mission goes south you’re thrown together with one hot brooding super soldier. It doesn’t help that you can’t stop ogling his bum.
Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Reader w/ powers
Word Count: 7k. I actually feel bad that it’s so long.
Warnings: Violence, gun violence, Bucky kills people, mentions of blood and injury, bad language (which is a given for me), some sexual tension (light) but mostly just reader is an asshat XD
The Avengers compound is not like you imagined it. Or maybe it is but you haven’t found any of the secret stuff yet. Hidden jet hangers under the basketball court, labs in the basement, glass cases full of superhero suits. Wait. That’s the freakin’ X-Men.
Still, it’s nothing like you hoped. The conference rooms are boring, obviously, because meetings are the epitome of dull. The communal lounge and kitchen are both boring; there’s no espresso machine that doubles as a drone, no fridge that transforms into sentry bot, there isn’t even a SodaStream. Yawn! You don’t even need to see the fitness suite to know that it’s not a place you want to visit, and you’re not allowed below the ground floor yet. Talk about not trusting the noob.
Your room is a vision of extreme lacklustre, but you only moved in yesterday, so, no redecorating just yet, save for the peace lily your brother gave you.
Congrats on your new job and home by the way, here’s a half-dead plant I had but couldn’t be bothered to look after. Now it’s yours. Enjoy!
Your super power is definitely not green thumbs, nurturing life, healing, or anything even a tiny bit supportive. You can’t fly, don’t have super strength, speed, or a crazy-good aim. There’s not a green rage-monster just below the surface waiting to erupt and smash things. Well, if someone steals your cookies you might have to choke a bitch but hey, rainbows are cool, right? Super distracting, like oh hey, what’s all this shiny shit flashing around? Oh dayum, I totally didn’t see that badass super warrior coming to kick my ass.
You swallow hard. The small conference room feels like an interrogation room despite the polished wood table and plush leather chairs. Of four sets of eyes that are currently watching you, only one pair is encouraging.
Tony Stark. The guy who recruited you. Took you from a life of selling hotdogs on street corners in the City and apartment sharing with a crazy cat lady called Angie who you found on Craigslist. You had nothing against crazy cat ladies, per se, but you would prefer it if the pissy smell was optional. Angie had opted in, hence why you jumped at the chance to opt out. Ugh.
“Rainbows?” The scowly but buff brunette with the dreamy blue eyes and robotic arm, scoffs mockingly. “You project rainbows?”
The equally buff blonde who you suspect might be Captain America (or maybe his stunt double) snickers, his head lowered to hide his amusement. Does Captain America have a stunt double, for like, TV appearances and meetings with officials, and stuff? You’ll ask later. Right now, you’re annoyed.
“Oh, I’m sorry, fist-of-victory!” You snap your fingers like the queen you are. “Am I too snazzy for you? Do my rainbows ruin the whole Neanderthal vibe you got going on there?”
Loud snorts and chuckles pull you back. The redheaded vixen you know already as Black Widow is pinching her nose to stifle her laughter, and Tony is looking to the heavens in askance but emotional stability is not forthcoming.
“Wow.” The brunette says flatly.
“Fist of victory.” Tony ponders, eyes twinkling. “I like that.” He levels an amused gaze at you, rolling his next words around in his mouth. “Manchurian candidate is a little out-dated, wouldn’t you say, Barnes? Ready for an upgrade?”
Oh shit! Your eyes get big. The brunette is none other than the infamous Winter Soldier. You should have known by the arm. Show no weakness! Your brain screams.
“What’s the official title for that skill, you have?” Steve Rogers has gotten his face to cooperate, now there’s no trace of a smirk. “Light manipulation?”
“Walking disco ball.” You put on the light show again, manipulating the effects so the lights are dancing across the, now stormy grey, eyes of one Sergeant Barnes.
“It’s definitely distracting.” Natasha says objectively. “Could be useful.”
“See! That’s what I said!” You punch the air, sending the lights into a frenzy.
“I have a theory.” Tony is playing his cards close to his chest still. “That’s why y/n is here. She’s agreed to work with us, and at the very least she can be a supportive member of the team.”
“Team, frickin’, playahhh!” You holler, earning a concerned look from Rogers and a downright obnoxious groan from Barnes. “What? What you complaining at? You fucking love me already!”
The truth was that you didn’t know how your ability worked. You could feel it when you did your thang, like the hairs on the back of your neck stood on end and the air in your hand felt stiff and substantial.
Better not talk about hands full of substantial stiff things around grandad Tony, he might kick the bucket.
You could manipulate the amount of reflections in your light show by making the air heavier, make them move, dance, even adjust the size of them a little. Agreeing to work with The Avengers had been a no brainer; you get paid, get a place to stay that isn’t full of the stench of sadness and cat piss, and you get to find out more about your ability. Win, win, win.
+++ A couple of weeks later +++
“You really expect me to take Rainbow Brite on this mission?” Barnes has his arms crossed across his chest, refusal crinkling his brown and pursing his lips into a thin line. The guy looks hot in tac gear. One bicep straining against the material, the other is obviously free and oh-so-fucking-awesome. Thighs tight under those black tac pants, thigh holster accenting the flex of muscle as he shifts his weight. Wait-what!?
“Wait a fucking minute!” You squawk. “Rainbow Brite? Oh, hell no!” You march up to him, similarly decked out in black gear that makes you look like some tiny recruit in ill-fitting body armour instead of badass like him.
There’s a smirk on his perfect mouth now, dusky pink lips lop-sided with amusement, and the twinkle in his eyes is more than a little alluring. What the fuck?
“Huh.” You stop your tirade, blinking, baffled. He’s playing with you. Trying to get you pissed so you’ll refuse to go, or maybe he wants you to go so you’ll make a fool of yourself and Tony will see you’re not useful. Too many mind-games already, you don’t have the patience for this shit, so you go with an insult instead. “If I’m Rainbow fucking Brite then that makes you Twink. Dink!”
“Well, he does epitomise my sparkling personality.” Sardonic, deadpan. It’s classic brooding Barnes and you’re almost proud that he got an 80’s pop culture reference. Almost.
“And they did rename him Mr fucking Glitters back in 2014.” You pout, adopting his stance, arms crossed.
“Perfect!” Tony pops m&ms into his mouth, turning away dismissively. “Rainbow Brite and Mr Glitters it is. Head to the carpool, there’s a vehicle waiting for you both.”
There was no getting away from this mission. You’d grumbled, griped, whined, and begged Tony to send you with anyone but Broody Barnes but the Iron Man was true to his alter ego, he did not budge.
You are about to take a few pot shots at him in the insults department when Barnes’s voice comes over the earpiece you have already been fitted with.
“Earth to disco ball. Get in the damn car already.”
“It’s disco diva to you, giant cocksicle.”
He laughs at that and is still grinning when you slide into the passenger seat beside him.
“You’ve got some mouth on you, kid.” Was that acceptance? Admiration? Whatever it was it looked good on him.
“Yeah, you know you want my mouth.” It sounded better in your head but now that it’s out it can’t be taken back. Barnes looks a little frowny but at least he’s got nothing to say so you can quietly die in peace.
Can someone cringe so much they die? You might find out.
The mission is surveillance. Low-key observations of a facility out in Nova Scotia that makes products for iGoddess, a beauty company owned and run by Gabrielle Porter, the niece of one Alexander Pearce, crime syndicate king-pin and scumbag extraordinaire.
You know the company; you buy their stuff. Well, you do now you can afford it and it’s not wasted under the scent of cat urine and bleach. How can a company so devoted to making women feel special and empowered be mixed up with drugs, weapons and human trafficking? Fucking bullshit, that’s what it is.
Bucky had ditched the car in the parking lot of a lake-side leisure and visitors centre about fifteen miles away, and with gaudy waterproof outerwear over your tac gear, you had begun the hike that would set you smack-bang in the middle of nowhere good. Posing as hikers had been Tony’s brief but you’re cold and bored, and your body aches from being on the solid ground.
You’re both lay just behind the crest of a hill a little way away from your target building. Bucky mutters his observations into his comms as you look through your own binoculars trying to see what he’s looking at. He’s talking guard numbers and movements, the weapons they carry, security features and people entering or leaving the facility. It’s no use, you’re not cut out for this. Surveillance is soul destroying. You’d rather be interred in Tony’s kitchen, at least there’s coffee there.
Not even an hour in and you’re itching to get up and move around. The hike had gotten your blood pumping but now you’re going stir-crazy, joints tingling with the need for motion.
Boring. Boring. But at least you can entertain yourself. Where there’s light there’s beauty and you tease the air through your gloves, finding that your skin doesn’t need to be bare for you to create the effect. Well whadd’ya know.
“There’s movement.” Bucky warns. “Looks like some of the guards are exiting the compound.”
You snort, they’re probably bored too.
“A Jeep and a couple of motorbikes, moving quickly.”
“Sounds like they’re going home.” You mumble, focused on the lights in your hand.
“They’re headed this way.” He curses. “Grab your- What the HELL are you doing?”
Bucky tackles you to the ground from where you were on your knees almost at the hill’s crest.
“Asshole!” You’re trying to get away from him but he pins you to the ground.
“I’m the asshole?” He complains as he rolls off you, sliding down the hill on his ass, shoving his gear unceremoniously into his backpack. “Mission compromised.”
“What happened?” Tony’s disembodied voice doesn’t sound happy.
“We were spotted.” At the bottom of the hill, Bucky starts picking a path through the rocks and small fissures hidden by the wild grass and heathers. A quick glance back tells him you’re not following; you’re caught.
“Uh, hi, guys.” You chuckle nervously as one of the guards levels an assault rifle at you. “Would you believe we’re winners of a free weekend iGoddess Spa?”
Bucky is livid. If it had just been him, he could have taken them out and escaped, but, no. Tony had to insist that he bring you, show you the ropes, look after you. Babysit you.
He snorts. You don’t need a minder you need to be put in a padded room where you can’t inflict any more of your weird bullshit on him. Fucking rainbows. What kind of skill is that, other than one that gets you caught?
Eight hours ago you were both doing great. There’d been some small-talk in the car, he’d opened up a little and you’d responded. Even on the hike over you’d been great, your filthy mouth was a source of much amusement for him, and you’d listened. His instructions were followed close enough to the letter, and he was happy. Everything was good.
Now it’s all fallen to shit and he’s locked up in a heavy-duty restraint chair that brings back memories of dark places and dark times for him. To his side, you’re slumped forward in a regular wooden chair, cable-ties binding your wrists and ankles to the wood, pulling at your skin, making your hands and feet turn blue. How the hell are you both supposed to get out of this?
He’s watching the movements of your chest that tell him you’re still breathing. The cut on your head has stopped bleeding but you’re drooling blood-tainted saliva down your grey rash-guard. Both of you had been stripped down to your undergarments and checked for hidden weapons. He was the first to be incapacitated as they’d used you as leverage, holding a gun to your head until he complied, stripped, and submitted to the chair. When they’d took away your gear you’d fought and Bucky had seen red; he’d strained against the chair until the butt of a gun to the head had put a stop to that. When he came to you were out cold, beaten and bloody. How hard had you fought?
Your feet and hands are turning purple now. The weight of your body pulling the restraints against your skin is making the plastic ties dig deep, cutting off the circulation.
“Y/n?” Bucky hisses, hoping the noise doesn’t prompt the guards to come back. “Y/n! Wake up!”
The room you’re in looks like an interview room. Two-way mirror, camera in the corner, reinforced door with heavy-duty locks that were strangely not engaged. It’s grey and cold, and the only things in the room are the two chairs and you two. The device Bucky is locked into is bolted into the floor; a permanent feature, like they expected him or maybe Steve. He tests the chair again. It creaks but doesn’t give. He’d have to really put some brute strength into it to break out, and that would create too much noise. He’d wait.
“Y/n!” A little louder now, and you stir.
He keeps talking to you, just bullshit words, what he wants for dinner, what film he’s going to watch when he’s home safe. Anything to help draw you back to consciousness.
“You wana watch a film with me, y/n?” He thought for sure you’d tell him to go fuck himself.
You moan, head lolling as you come back to him.
“Hey! Rainbow Brite!”
“Fuck you.” It’s a whisper but he’ll take it.
“There she is.” He allows himself a relieved smile. “C’mon, sweetheart. I need you to sit up for me. Take the weight off those ties before there’s any permanent damage.”
It takes a few more moments before you can shuffle yourself properly into the chair, then you’re flexing your hands and feet to get the blood moving again.
“Oh-god-it-hurts-so-fucking-bad!” You are practically wailing as the pins and needles sensation in your extremities reaches a peak. The slightest movement now sends a cacophony of intense pain into your limbs.
“It’ll be over soon.” Bucky sooths.
“Why are you being nice to me after I got us caught?” You eye him suspiciously, flapping your hands to rush the blood into your fingers. Rip the band aid off. “Is this some kind of prank? Ohhhhhhh! This is an initiation isn’t it? Oh, I see. Where’s Iron Doosh? Hey! Tony!”
“Would you shut up? This is real. We’re really captured.” Bucky hisses.
“Tony Stank, Skank, Spah-hank.” You sing-song as you struggle against your restraints, examining your bound feet through spread knees. “I hope this is one of the chairs from his good dining set.” You stand, leaning forward and centring your weight above your bent knees.
“What are you doing?”
“Just need to…” You shuffle over to the mirror.
“No, y/n, wait!” Bucky begs. “Don’t break the glass.” His frantic expression says the rest. Your feet are bare and you’ll shred yourself to ribbons.
“What? You’re crazy. Why would I do that?” You chuckle, amused that he’s so worried. “There’s no one in there.” You wink at him. “They’d be in here by now if there were.”
You shuffle a bit more and grunt as you throw yourself backward to the ground. The chair cracks but doesn’t break.
“Fuck!” You struggle some more, grunting and groaning like a butch female tennis player in a grand slam. One of the arms loosens and you fight against the wood until you get your left hand free, then you’re reaching into your hair for a bobby pin to jam into the clasp of the cable tie on your right arm.
Moments later, you’re free and rushing to Bucky who is fighting against his own restraints. There’s sweat beading on his bare chest and his hair is sticking to his forehead. A quick swipe of your hand clears his brow and he stills, watching you as you search the chair for whatever mechanism has him trapped.
“There’s a big red lever at the back.” You muse. “You think it’s an ejector seat?” A cheeky wink. “If I sit in your lap we can both go for a ride.” You don’t have time for giggling and flirtation, but you do it anyway.
“Y/n.” Bucky chastises lightly.
“What? This is every girl’s wet dream. Every, damn, girl.” You mumble as you grip the handle. “And I can’t even enjoy it.”
“Just pull the damn thing already. We don’t have time to mess around.”
“Pity.” You tug the lever and a loud hiss fills the room, pressure releasing from the chair.
Bucky is on his feet and at the door before you make three steps. He’s rubbing his right forearm where the metal clamps had bitten into his flesh, there’s blood there too, long ago dried.
“There’s movement out there.” He has his ear to the door. “I need a weapon, we need our gear, and we need a vehicle.”
“I need some chocolate and bottle of wine.”
“What?”
“Are we not making a shopping list?”
Bucky rolls his eyes and grabs your wrist. “C’mon.”
With the door cracked open, Bucky can see movement at the end of the corridor; there’s a security room which is promising for retrieving your gear, but not if you want to avoid being seen.
“Stay behind me.” He pushes you towards his back.
You look down at his bum. “No problem.” You sigh and then you’re moving, your hand on his bare back so you can feel where he’s moving next.
Bucky suddenly shoves you down into a squat, shushing you with a finger held against his lips. The way he moves is like water, smooth and forceful, carrying the momentum of his body towards a lone guard who has paused at the corner by the security room. How he hasn’t seen you is a miracle but the man doesn’t even hear Bucky until the his own knife is slipped from its sheath and into the his temple. There’s no sound, no gurgling, not even much blood. Bucky lowers the body to the floor and cleans the knife on the pants of the dead man.
Looking at him now, you can see why people fear him. His expression is cold, calculating, and focused. It’s necessary, the distance he puts between himself and the act of killing. Even when Bucky was him, there was always a distance; a gap between him and his orders. Now the killing is his choice and he has to live with that, there’s no excuse of mind control now. This is all him.
The security room has one guard inside who is overpowered moments after Bucky opens the door.
Fucking amateurs, you think. Does that room not have cameras that cover the door and surrounding corridors?
Turns out that it does and the reason the guard hadn’t seen you was because he was sexting his girlfriend.
“Sexting?”
“Yeah. Like sex role play and talking dirty over text.” You snort. “Jeez, you’re old.”
“What can I say? You’re broadening my horizons.” He winks then and it’s so out of place in this grim situation that you laugh nervously. “Sounds fun.”
“Well don’t take tips from this guy.” You wave his phone in the air loosely. “He’s fucking terrible at it.”
“What’s bad about it?”
You’re not sure if he means to ask that, he’s busy trying to get outside communication through the phones which seem to be keycode protected and also checking through the security feeds to see if he can find your gear and a way out of this for you both; he’s clearly distracted. At least he’s happy now that he has a pair of handguns and a pair of knives, no weapons for you because you haven’t completed your firearms training yet. But let’s face it, who would arm you anyway? You were a disaster waiting to happen.
“He’s a bit of a wham-bam-thankyou-ma’am kinda guy.” You chuckle. Bucky is going to regret starting you off down this line of conversation. “His poor woman has probably never experienced even mediocre sex with this schmuck if his sext skills are anything to go by.”
“Too eager to bury the bone?” Bucky sounds distant, but he is listening to you as he checks drawers for weapons, keys and anything else that might be useful. God knows your gear was nowhere to be found.
“Check it.” You hop up on the desk near him and scroll through the laughable chat. You feel slightly guilty reading this guy’s private shit but he’s dead so he isn’t going to care. Reading from the chat, you do fake voices. “So she’s like ‘hey baby, you free tonight? I got something for you.’ Peach emoji, cat emoji. And he’s like ‘you off your period? Can we bang?’ I mean, what the fuck dude?”
Bucky is smirking when you look at him. “What did she say?” He straps both thigh holsters to his almost naked body. It’s comical how he’s gearing up from salvaged stuff wearing only a pair of skin-tight spandex shorts that leave nothing to the imagination. Once Bucky is packing (in more ways than one, now) you have to force your eyes elsewhere.
“’Yeah, baby! I missed you so bad. Can’t wait to be in your arms again.’ She just wants lovin’ y’know?” You spoke the line in a soft, breathy voice. Fake, of course.
“And what did he say?” Bucky is checking the monitors one last time before he moves to the door.
“You like a bit of sexting? Huh, Barnes?” You smirk, eying him mischievously. “Living vicariously through the sexting chronicles of Captain Dick-Down over there?”
“Just looking to know what not to do if the opportunity for sexting ever arises.” It’s light-hearted and completely unlike the grumpy Bucky you’re used to. Maybe there was something in the air; sex pollen or something. That’s totally a thing. “C’mon.” He says after a moment, eyes twinkling with mirth, soft lips pulling up to the side in a cute smile. “Let’s get the hell out of here.”
It’s comedy gold, the pair of you running the halls of an apparently secret part of the factory, him in his tight little shorts and you in your panties and spandex t-shirt over a sports bra that makes your rack look like a uni-boob. You awkwardly tug your rash-guard down over your ass whenever Bucky is behind you and you’re thankful you didn’t wear a thong though that would be better than skid marks. God, you hoped you’d not shat yourself when they beat you.
You barely encounter anyone until you’re almost at the warehouse; Bucky is so stealthy that even with you hindering him, he only has to subdue one foreman and drag you into a cleaning supply closet once, to avoid a pair of patrolling guards. Not that you’re complaining, being squashed up against an almost naked super soldier gave you endless thrills, even if he was all stiff and awkward about it.
Bucky stalls before the double doors that lead to the warehouse. There’s a heavy plastic strip curtain over the exit too, it’s almost opaque with age and hinders your view of what is beyond the meshed safety-glass of the door’s small windows.
“They know we’re coming.” He whispers to you, mere inches away. “There’s a lot of them out there and I can’t keep you safe if you disobey orders. So, please,” he begs, “please do as I tell you.”
He begs so sweetly, you think, blushing. But you’re not one for passing an opportunity for inappropriate comments.
“I’ll be a good girl, Daddy.” You bat your eyelashes, feigning innocent. “Cross my heart and hope to die.”
“Really?” Bucky doesn’t know whether to blush or be annoyed. You never seem to take anything seriously; it’s always a joke, or something you can twist to your amusement. He gets doubly serious. “If you die, it’s on me. You think I haven’t lost enough people over the course of my very long life? You think I want to wash your blood off my skin later tonight? Bury you alongside all the other people lost to some fight or other in the name of SHIELD or the Avengers? I can’t save you if you don’t want to be saved.”
You watch him as he fervently tries to convey the dire nature of your situation, desperate to make you understand that he doesn’t want you to die here, he cares. His eyes are piercing and your heart is a ricocheting bullet in your chest. What if you don’t make it out ok? What if this is it for you? Both of you? Suddenly, you’re acutely aware that Bucky Barnes, Winter Soldier, Fist of HYDRA come Fist of Victory, has cleared himself a little spot in your fucked-up soul, and is there to stay. You don’t want him to get killed because of you, but there’s nothing you can do, you’re not trained for this, or at all really.
You nod once, not trusting your voice in that moment. You could choke on your words or you could vomit all over yourself. It’s a lottery, so you say nothing.
“Good girl.” He gives your shoulders a reassuring squeeze. “Stay behind me. Be quick, keep low, don’t hesitate, and for Christ’s sake no disco ball.” There’s a small smile tempting the corners of his lips, like he’s saying he forgives you for getting you both into this mess. “Ok, sweetheart, lets go.”
Out in the warehouse there’s a whole host of guards and workers, patrolling and overseeing shipments being loaded into lorries. It look like it’s important, and probably why the majority of the facility is clear of security staff; the merchandise is being moved.
It’s a mad dash, crouching low as you ghost around the edge of the warehouse. The huge rows of stacks are packed full of boxes and crates, further obscuring your movement around the area. Bucky is silent, especially since he’s barefoot; he’s every bit the assassin he’s hyped to be, but you can’t take him seriously padding around almost naked with the top of his crack showing and his junk all jiggly in the front.
A radio crackles to life. Three personel down. Prisoners have escaped. Cameras last caught them headed your way.
They must have found the bodies.
“They’re in here somewhere.” A man says, loud and authoritative. “Search the rows, shoot to kill. They’re not low-life mob goons, they’re Avengers and can’t be allowed to live.”
Well that settles that, you think, gone are the chances of mere bodily harm. It’s death or death.
You watch in awe as Bucky scales a nearby stack to stalk one of the patrolling guards. When his opportunity arises he yanks the man up by the throat, snapping his neck in the process. You can’t help but admire that metal arm, so sleek and powerful. You groan, light and lusty, earning you a concerned look from the owner of said appendage.
Killing that guard has yielded an assault rifle, another knife and another handgun. You’d think Bucky would be too smart to arm you but apparently he’s not. Silently he points to his eye and then to the gun where he shows you how to turn off the safety, puts the gun in your hand and moves behind you to adjust your grip. He aims for you, pressing his chest against your back and you swear you can feel his junk against your ass. Once he’s satisfied that you aren’t going to injure yourself, he’s gone from behind you, crouching low at the end of the row.
He grabs another guard and drags him backward. The struggle is louder than he would have liked, and the man got out a partial shout before his throat was closed forever but Bucky is hopeful that he can thin the numbers down enough to make it possible to get you into a truck and away safely.
Bucky shoves the newest body under the nearest stack and beckons you to him. You both move like a two-carriage train, he’s the engine and you’re the caboose following in his wake. He only leaves you to commit murder but you feel lost when he’s gone, cold even. There’s something alluring about the way he uses his body and your mind drifts to other carnal things.
A hand on your shoulder makes you jump. There’s more of a commotion going on in the warehouse now, not just the sounds of men moving goods and silently searching for two prisoners. There are massive amounts of footfall, boots hitting the concrete at speed; bringing in reinforcements from outside.
Bucky is about to whisper in your ear when the squeal of a megaphone pierces the air; he stills with his lips almost touching your skin before pulling back with a frown.
“Sergeant Barnes?” Bucky knows that voice, he’d heard it for years, worked with it, even obeyed it on occasion. “Save the girl. Turn yourself in.”
You shake your head, panicked, urgent. Don’t leave me, your eyes are saying.
A noise nearby draws Bucky’s attention and he suddenly forces you to the ground under a stack where he slots himself immediately after; the security team are searching for you, stealthily stalking the rows. It’s cramped and dusty, the bottom shelf above you so close you can barely breathe without your back brushing the metal supports. How Bucky fits is beyond you, the man is a beefcake, all bulk and magnificently defined muscle. Thinking of him naked is the only thing that keeps you from succumbing to claustrophobia. Something brushes your hand and you jolt, eyes snapping to meet his. He grasps your hand properly and gives it a reassuring squeeze. In your chest, something gives. Maybe your permafrost heart is thawing, maybe you’re about to have a stroke, maybe you really like him.
When the coast is clear, Bucky pulls you free and you emerge into a different row, one with fewer boxes, one you’ll likely be spotted in. You can just see the massive doorway of the warehouse, double sliding doors like a hangar, several half loaded trucks and maybe forty men with body armour and guns. One guy in the middle is wearing a full-face helmet with a white skull etched across the features.
“Holy shit! Is that Punisher?” You hiss before Bucky can clamp his hand over your mouth, the warning look on his face is stern as he leans in to you.
“Crossbones.” He corrects you, barely audible despite the proximity. You still don’t know who that is but he’s totally not as cool as the Punisher, so it doesn’t matter.
His hand is still over your mouth but there’s no point in struggling, you couldn’t break free of him even if you tried, so you push your tongue out and squirm it against his palm, making him recoil in disgust. Your chuckle is silent and his frown turns to the ghost of a wry smile before his attention is fully back on the man he calls Crossbones.
Bucky is taciturn at the best of times but he’s in full diagnostic mode now, assessing the situation. His eyes flicker around the warehouse from yet another new position. It seems like he’s trying to get you closer to the trucks but you suspect that’s what Crossbones expects. There are more men closer to the trucks too and Bucky has already had to kill another two in the latest relocation. The missing men haven’t gone unnoticed and Crossbones is issuing orders, plugging the gaps so you can’t escape.
“I will find you Barnes.” Crossbone’s voice sounds wet through the megaphone, like he’s salivating with excitement at the prospect of getting his hands on you both again. “If you turn yourself in, maybe I’ll let the girl live.”
Bucky’s eyes are downcast, like he’s actually considering it, but the moment passes and Bucky’s resolve hardens. He drags you away towards the end of the row.
“The end of this row has a direct line of sight to the exit. I need a distraction. Can you do that for me?” He whispers.
You nod, lips set in determination. “One disco ball distraction coming right up.”
“On my mark.”
The fluorescent strip lights overhead create more than enough light for you to use. With your right hand flat against Bucky’s left shoulder blade and your left manipulating the air to create a huge show of dancing lights, you move in tandem. Bucky steps out of hiding, keeping you just behind him with his metal arm, he surges forward squeezing off four shots. The way his arm snaps to aim so quickly is astounding, like he has a targeting chip implanted in his brain. Who knows, maybe he does. Four men fall and remain still. Another three shots, then another two and he’s pulling you into another row at a crouching run to the opposite end as he discards the empty gun and pulls out another. He’s saving the assault rifle for Crossbones.
“Again.” He instructs gruffly. “Can you get their eyes?”
“It’s not an exact science this, you know?” You huff and he seems to know that you’re saying you’ll try your best. Of course you’d try, but you don’t know much about your power, even after the few months you’d been training with the team. If it meant you both got out of this alive, you’d flash your tits at the enemy for Christ’s sake.
You emerge again, him with the gun in his metal hand this time, stepping out with you at his back. This time they are ready for you and they start firing before Bucky gets off his first shots. He makes a dash for a fork-lift with a huge pallet of crates sat at floor level. He shoots his rounds in threes until the 9-round magazine is done. The gun is discarded as you both slide behind the cover of the pallets. Machine guns rattle, pummelling the crates with round after round. Bucky prays the crates don’t contain munitions.
“I make fourteen down. Twenty-two left.” His breathing smooth where your is ragged. You curse yourself for being so unfit that even a tiny bit of stress and exertion leaves you heaving air like a couch potato made to climb stairs. “Crossbones is a problem.”
“What do we do now?”
Bucky has two handguns, four knives and an assault rifle, you have one gun and your rainbows. This isn’t going to go well, you think.
“You’re going to hide over there and watch the rear.” He points to your left.
You smirk. Now isn’t’ the time for joking.
“I’m going to thin the crowd some more and, if I can, take Crossbones out.” He looks determined but ridiculous in his underpants, dusted with dirt and debris from the floor that’s stuck to the slightest bit of moisture on his skin. “This might not work. Run to the left, hide in the stacks again, stay down and don’t expose yourself.”
You nod and he readies himself to break cover. The shooting has stopped now and it sounds like the guards are changing positions again. His muscles clench, coiling ready to spring.
“Wait!” You stop him with a hand on his arm, the metal is unnervingly cool. Tension builds. “I wanna fuck you until you pass out.”
“Ummmm.” Bucky blinks, eyebrows raised in surprise but he’s smiling. “You’re serious?”
“Yeah, well, no, but, uhhhh.” You splutter, this hadn’t gone well at all. “I couldn’t let you go without telling you, you know, what Captain Dick Down said to his girl. You asked, for future reference, and all.”
“Oh. Right.” He frowns, turning away again. “Move when I do.” He orders stiffly, preparing to move.
Well, shit!
“Bucky, wait.” Your voice is softer this time, tears prickling your eyes. There’s a chance that neither of you will make it through this and it’s suddenly hit you that there’s something missing.
“What now?” He grumbles, turning to find you closer than he expected.
You surge forward, cupping his jaw in your hands as you capture his lips in a kiss that’s both urgent and needy. You don’t care if he doesn’t respond, you need to feel this before it’s too late. All this tension between you, the jibes and snarky banter, it’s unresolved and sexual in nature. You want him, and if this is all you can have then so be it. One stolen moment before it all slips through your fingers, and you both go to your graves.
You’re already pulling back when he snaps back to attention, quickly pulling you back for another kiss. His tongue delicately touches between the seal of your lips and you sigh with longing.
“You ready?” You pull away but he’s still clearing his head, trying to focus again.
On your feet you’re running out, pumping your legs as fast as you can, heading to the wrong place. Machine guns stutter to life and Bucky is on your heels a second later, fear contorting his features as he scoops you up in his metal arm and returns fire almost blindly. He’s shielding your body with his own and yips like a wounded pup when the bullets find him.
On your knees beneath the curved shield of his back you see the enemy are far closer than you thought. Everything in you yelled stop and you felt the pressure rise through your body and out, cascading off you like a roiling storm.
The bullets stop but the guns are still firing, muffled by the thickness of the air. Despite the pain in his lower back and hip, he turns to see what’s happening. Bullets sluggishly pushing through the air like flies in syrup, all but stopped and slightly redirected on a path that will take them away from a central focal point that is you. You’re doing this, shielding you both as if by some miracle, your power not only refracting the light causing rainbows but acting like a forcefield.
“As much as I have to break up this little party, I really can’t have you killing my friends.” The voice of Tony Stark is heard a second before the Iron Man himself and several of his Iron Legion appear and shoot each and every remaining guard with a taser disc, stunning them into unconsciousness.
Crossbones is a different matter and is somehow resistant to the zapping he just got. He levels a grenade launcher at the stacks near where you and Bucky are crouched and fires. No air shield will save you from all of that falling metal, but Bucky is still fast despite his wounds. There’s blood running down his leg in rivulets as he pulls you to safety, and shields you instinctively with his body once more while the sound of explosions and grinding metal fill the air.
“I did not know I could do that.” You praise yourself.
“I still got shot.”
“It’s just a flesh wound.” You snort. “Walk it off.”
“You’re a real ray of sunshine, you know that?”
“I must be something special if you took one in the ass for me.” You wink. “I hope it heals puckered, then you’ll have two rusty bullet holes.”
“STARK!” He shouts but pulls you closer to him. “Evac for one. She’s walking hom-owwww!” You pinch the skin on the inside of his thigh viciously enough that he shoves you out of his embrace.
You both stay close on the Quinjet home. Bucky had been confused as to how Stark had known to mount a rescue mission but when you produced Captain Dick Down’s phone from your uni-boob bra it all became apparent. All of the comms in the facility had been locked down but that was a personal device, one that probably wasn’t allowed to be carried. Good old Captain Dick Down.
The facility had been put to a far worse use than drugs and weapons trafficking. iGoddess was a front for human trafficking and also human experimentation. The restraint chair they had strapped Bucky into had been used to restrain test subjects; Alexander Pearce was trying to replicate the super serum that made Steve and Bucky what they were.
“So, this was a win for us.” Steve said in the debrief. “Our intel was lacking but it worked out in the end.”
“Says you who didn’t get shot in the ass cheek.” Bucky grumbled, shifting cautiously on the Mr Glitters cushion you’d given him as a joke.
“I got to see some wonderful scenery,” you grin brilliantly, “so I’m not complaining.”
There had been no further discussion about the kiss you and Bucky had shared when you thought you might die in that place, but that’s ok. Your daily thrills are made up of making him squirm, and since you two had become closer since your ordeal, you have had several of moments like those. There’s plenty of time and you’re prepared to play the long game, starting with your newest idea. You pull out your phone and casually write a text while Steve is rambling on about seized research and assets.
[I’m so turned on right now].
Bonus add-on for this work: Captain Dick Down - External link to AO3
Because apparently 7k words wasn’t enough and I just had to try my hand at a little text chat/social media piece. It’s more of an embellishment. Enjoy
And if you liked this story, why not try Good Ole Stuffing, a smutty follow on for the same reader/character.
#cmmsecretsanta#bucky barnes x reader#bucky barnes x you#bucky fanfic#reader insert#reader with powers#marvel fanfic#powers au#my writing#cloudy's writing
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38. Part 2
I want to question Maurice if he is feeling warm because of the layers he has on right now but I won’t, he probably feels comfortable, protected this way that nobody will notice him but we are in California and it’s not cold but I guess it is what it is, I won’t say anything but I am judging him. He seems to be very quiet now though, I don’t regret bringing him because I think it’s best this way, I can watch him, I can keep an eye on his wellbeing “are you ok?” I have to ask him, I just feel like something is bugging him “uh, yeah. Just thinking, I am ok though. I mean I am with you so of course I am ok” I cooed out “did you leave boo thang at the hotel?” I didn’t question that “I guess you haven’t really looked in your bag, it’s in your bag at the bottom, she is with us” I gasped “you put her in my bag, you and this damn bear!” opening my bag “I put it deep down, like very down” digging into my bag feeling around for the bear, and there it is “pootie, why?” picking it out of my bag, he just shrugged “it’s cute, don’t you think?” he said, I just sighed out “why do you like this bear so much?” I would like to know because it was the cheapest thing, he keeps it with him “because it’s such a simple gesture, it’s the simple things I like. It comes from the heart, I like that” that is sweet, placing the bear between us, reaching over and taking his shades off “I want to see your eyes Maurice, I feel your warm in this” Maurice shook his head “I am ok, I am feeling a little tired though. Little bit pain in my leg, just getting used to things. I guess” I love him with my whole heart “does it upset you with people react to how you look?” I think it does “look at this” Maurice leaned forward, he pulled up his sweat pant leg, reaching down “I see, it’s dry skin and you have been scratching it. It’s just bled out” lighting touching the spot “I think it’s the effects of the tablets, every tablet does have some sort of effect. But we will get some cream and fix that, don’t scratch it though, try and not too please” Maurice pulled down the sweat pant leg “I am trying to get better for you, I am trying to eat more to make me more fat. I mean like imagine trying to get freaky with this, I couldn’t either” shaking my head at him “stop it, I don’t expect you to be better in a day. Maurice, it takes time. You’re jumping, stop it. It will be special for us, and your dick works so who cares” I giggled “I lost a lot of weight haven’t I? I don’t like it, I look worse you know” grabbing his hand “then I guess nobody else will look at you which is good for me” Maurice laughed out “oh I see your game” I shrugged smiling, now I don’t need to worry about no girl.
Reign has been so quiet, for once anyways. I think car journeys for her she enjoys, they are peaceful, but she is wide awake just staring out of the window. Unlocking my phone “oh yeah, Leon said he can’t come right now so he will see us later on, probably about midnight for him you see” tapping on Insta “that is ok, wait till he seems me, he will be like where did you find this tramp from” he worries on what people think too much, tapping on my explore page “I found him at Davenport hotels” I said laughing “wow, you agree too” squinting my eyes, this does look like Maurice and someone. Tapping on the image “oh” this is Malik’ page “look” holding up my phone to Maurice “that is you and Malik? I noticed your pouty little face” Maurice smiled looking at it, he looks genuinely happy “look how dark I was there, so I remember this. I was just turning nine, I came back home in Texas, but we had another home. I just came back from being in South Africa with my dad, and I caught a real bad tan and we came home, it’s my birthday so my mom wanted to see me. Malik wouldn’t leave me alone, look at my arm. He kept bugging me so I was upset, my mom was like he is little brother be nice but I was being a brat. I wanted to be back in Spain, I didn’t want to be in Texas, boring Texas I used to say. I wanted my nanny, I remember it all because my mom flipped and said I am your mother, and yeah. What did he put?” moving my phone away and looking down “he put, I miss you big bro, I hope you get better. I still love you” Maurice shook his head “he fucked up” he mumbled; I think it is a cute picture “with your face like this, I know where Reign gets the attitude from” I am keeping that picture.
Home sweet home, I mean it’s been my home and I have missed it so much “look at my home” I grinned “your old home, are you going to gather your things while you’re here?” Maurice said, I just took in a deep breath “I don’t think I will get the time Maurice, so I may need to come back again” Maurice nodded his head, he understood. Looking over at Reign “little momma we home now” I’m happy to be home “are you ok to take Reign?” I asked Maurice “for sure” he pulled his hood up over his head as he got out of the car “daddy is coming to get you, you look so cute” I put on her best dress, my mom hasn’t seen her in a while and she bought her this dress that finally fits her, unbuckling her as the door opened “where is my Mi Amor?” Maurice said and there she go, she showed off her gums, she loves him so much “my big girl, you got so tall now” grabbing my bag from the floor of the SUV and shuffled out, quickly grabbing the bear before I got out, can’t leave this now “I left your suitcase just there” the driver said “thank you, can you get the car seat out for me and leave it there also” I asked him, stepping out of the car and kicking the door shut “Maurice come, let’s go inside. I’ll get my dad to get the case” I don’t want him to do anything “but I can, I’ll just take you in” walking towards my house “stop it, I don’t want to hear it. I want you to rest, then later we will get some ointment for your leg” pressing the doorbell “sure, I just think I’m going to cause shit being here, for you anyways” I don’t want to hear it, he’s my husband. Shaking my head in annoyance, the door shot open “Robbie! Oh my god, Robyn!” My mom jumped on me “oh, baby I have missed my daughter so much” hugging my mom close “I missed you too mom, I love you” this hug made me feel some type of way, a little sense of sadness “are you ok?” I asked “I just missed you” my mom moved back to look at me “my beautiful and-” my mom abruptly stopped talking seeing Maurice “you poor thing, Maurice. Is he ok now?” Reaching up and taking his shades off “he is getting there, it’s been hard for us” my mom walked around me and hugged him “it’s good to see you, honestly and my grand baby! Look at you” Reign clung onto Maurice “come on in, please” walking into the house, I’m wondering where my dad is and here he is “oh you back, Robyn” smiling at him “come here” he hugged me “where did the rest of Maurice go?” Shaking my head “stop” moving back from the hug, I am not sure if he was trying to be funny.
Sitting next to Maurice “she is clinging onto you, isn’t she now. Don’t be like that baby, this is my parents” rubbing her back before pushing his hood back and taking off his snapback “we’re inside now Maurice, it’s ok” placing his snapback on my lap “I know but you bought the case in, I can do it you know” fixing his overgrown hair “I know you can Maurice, never said you couldn’t. Just you had Reign” he is very anxious; I feel it from him. Turning a little and sitting back on the couch “it’s so good to see you Robbie, I have missed you so much. It’s been hectic for you, I am sure” I groaned out “trust me, it’s been a mess mom, but I got good news. I have got the job in New York; I mean it was easy. They gave it me like as soon as, I am so happy mom. I feel blessed, so that is a good thing don’t you think?” my mom nodded her head “baby I am so happy for you, all I want for you is the best baby” watching my dad walk over to us, he is looking at Maurice but he can stop now “so you got the job in New York? You’re doing it?” he said, he sat down and let out a big sigh “I am, and it’s the best option for me, for us and Reign. I am happy to move there, I am just sad to leave my city, I love California, but my life is with Maurice, I will…” I dragged out as my eyes diverted towards the TV, I swear I heard Maurice’ name on the TV, my dad would have the news on “with the Davenport business expanding, rumours of Maurice in talks with Hilton which we can’t confirm and his publicist could not confirm, what do you think to Maurice, what was different from his dad to Maurice, the heir to this business?” the reporter asked “what is this?” I asked pointing at the TV “this is the segment on the news channel where they speak on business, I guess I am the topic” Maurice said, letting out an oh “he is fresh blood, he is taking what is his, I think he is coming in hard. If the reports are true about Hilton then boy, he is about to rack in the money. In his own right he is a billionaire, and we can take out the Davenport empire, in his own right he is a billionaire. This is huge for them, I mean why not celebrate and buy a sixty-seven-million-dollar townhouse, this just fuels the rumours, his placement, his vision it’s just brilliant. He has his hands in every aspect of business. He will be in Forbes and he will be putting to shame a lot of companies that are in this hotel business, he is great guy. I like him, he is giving back too. I just hope he is ok, as he has been in hiding. I mean they are in talks in Tokyo, I feel like this young black man is someone we should look too, the whole family. A black family business that made it in Texas, who does that?” this guy is really loving Maurice “do you know him?” I asked, I mean he must do “in passing, I know of him” nodding my head “he praising you Maurice, I agree” it’s nice to hear such positivity, looking over at my dad and he’s like not happy, he is mean mugging the TV.
I turned the TV off, I mean it’s enough of that “we have a billionaire in our home” my mom would say that “he’s just Maurice mom, I think he prefers that” my mom is funny “so you got a home?” my mom asked “yes, I wanted him to not do it. I think he was being silly, but Maurice did it. He got the home in the Upper east side, it’s beautiful. How many bedrooms?” I asked “erm, seven bedrooms but it’s our forever home, I don’t think I would want to move. That is it, it’s safe there” my mom’ eyes bulged out “fancy, can I move in?” I laughed “you can stay with me whenever you want mom, I think it’s hard to you know” I got choked up “to leave you here, I miss you. I miss you just walking into the home, just you. Your vibe settles me, I miss you a lot” my mom rushed over to me “baby don’t cry, Robbie I am always around. Call me when you need me” my mom hugged me “you’re my best friend mom, I love you. I just miss you” my mom kissed my cheek, she cooed out “baby, listen to me. When you need me you call me, I will be right over ok?” nodding my head “I also have some other news, I just need to say it now. I want to get it over with” I don’t want to just hold it off, I just want to say it and get it over with.
My mom looks so nervous “oh you’re pregnant, again aren’t you?” I laughed out “oh my god no, I am not pregnant. Don’t wish that on me just yet thanks” my mom is awful, do I look fat or something “sorry, I just thought you was. The way you said it” shaking my head still laughing “so, my birthday is coming up. I mean very soon, and Maurice and I decided. Well Maurice asked me and I accepted but we are going to do something small and private for now and on my birthday I will be marrying him in Texas, something very just private between us” my dad got up from the couch “a billionaire polygamist marrying my daughter, you marrying him like this? A fucking billionaire that is marrying my daughter on the low, you ashamed of her. Maybe you don’t want people seeing the state of you, you can do so much better, are you crazy? You will be his second wife” shaking my head staring at my dad, getting up from the couch “who is crazier, me or him. Probably him for marrying me without a prenup, this man you’re disrespecting will be my husband whether you walk me or not, probably not. You’re not hurting him, you’re hurting me in this” my dad didn’t know what to say “go on, what next? Yes, I will be his second wife, and his last wife. I won’t have it, no. I am not having you giving him bad vibes when he is trying to get better. You know what dad, I can already imagine it now on my wedding day, your negative vibe. I don’t need it, Maurice we are going to your hotel” I don’t want to stay here “no, you’re staying” my mom piped up “I can’t mom, it was a mistake to think he would do something for me. Who are you, I don’t think I know you anymore dad, not the dad I know, I am not staying here” I can’t stay here “no, Robyn. You are staying, Thomas, you can go” my dad looked at my mom, not even in shock but just looked at her “they are staying here, you can go to your mom’ home where you said you wanted to go anyways” my dad didn’t even say anything “Maurice, maybe I need your advice soon” my dad said before walking off to go upstairs, my mom just smiled at me with a hint of hurt and I can see it in her eyes.
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Snow in Hollywood Chapter 3
@tephi101 @sweet-teekorbs warnings: flirting, hot tub scene, teasing brothers, intimacy interruptions, naked Skarsgards, angst, makeover madness
Chapter 3
The day moves along into the evening and Bill makes cheeseburgers and French fries for dinner. Soon it is time to put the little ones to bed. Kolbjorn fell asleep at the dinner table after eating his French fries but it takes 4 stories to convince Ossian to go to sleep. You help clean up the dishes from dinner. Valter has gone off to meet up with his girlfriend.
Bill says, “You want to chill in the hot tub?”
You say, “well um…”
Bill said, “A tank top and panties is fine if you are uncomfortable. I know its more of a big thing in the States to be naked in front of people and if it would make you more comfortable, I’ll wear shorts.”
You say, “Yeah we do have our hang-ups.” You giggle saying, “I can just take this skirt off and I’m ready to go in the tub.”
Bill says, “Cool, I have boxers on so I can take everything off but them for you Princess.”
The way he looks at you while he says that makes you blush. Then you both head out to the pool and hot tub. You take off your skirt and throw it over a lounge chair. Then you watch him get undressed admiring his slim body in the light of the half moon and few lights around the pool. He helps you into the hot tub. The water is hot but not to hot. Steam rolls off it. Bill gets into the hot tub and relaxes with his head back. You move over closer to him laying back on his arm, so he pulls you a little closer. He looks at you.
Bill says, “I think you are going to have a fun day tomorrow.”
You say, “Yeah.”
You seem frozen looking at each other for a moment before he leans in. You close your eyes as you hold your breath a little.
Alex says, “Hey little brother.”
Bill says, “Fuck.”
Gustaf says, “Its been a long day. We will join you two.”
They take off all their cloths and jump in the hot tub. Your eyes are wide.
Alex says, “So, how was your day Princess. My brother hasn’t been being all creepy has he.”
Beat red you say, “No, he hasn’t. He is taking me to a Ball this weekend.”
Gustaf says, “I’m not sure that is a good idea. You keep a watch out for any one out of the ordinary.”
Alex and Bill look at him and in unison say, ‘How can you tell if anyone is out of the ordinary in Hollywood?”
Grumbling Gustaf says, “Just be careful with her Bill. If anything, ever happened to her our Dad would kill us.”
Alex says, “Maybe we should all go to that Ball.”
Bill says, “And maybe not.”
You laugh a little.
Alex says, “I’d be happy to take you to find a dress tomorrow Princess.”
Bill says, “I made her an appointment with Fairy Godmother tomorrow. Then an afternoon at the spa. I was hoping one of you had the time off tomorrow and Friday to watch the little ones.”
Alex says, “Sure thing little brother.”
You get out of the hot tub and Bill quickly follows to wrap a towel around you. He rest his hands on you your shoulders.
You say, “I should get some sleep for tomorrow. I must be there at four in the morning. What time do we have to leave, Bill?”
Bill said, “Three thirty should be fine even if we hit traffic. Its right at the bottom of the hill.”
You head inside.
Bill says, “I’m heading to bed to. You guys have fun.”
Alex says, “Not the same bed. Give the girl some space.”
You can still hear them and blush badly.
Bill says, “Shut up asshole, of course not.”
Teasing a little more as Bill walks into the house Gustaf says, “Hope we didn’t interrupt. Oh, Hell I know we did and I’m fine with that.”
Alex and Gustaf laugh hysterically. Bill catches up to you. He throws you his t-shirt for you to put on to be warm. He leans on the door.
Bill says, “Sorry about them. They can be idiots sometimes.”
As you scoot passed him with his shirt and get clean under garments you say, “Yeah, I know guys can be like that.”
You go into the bathroom with your things. He stands at the closed door.
Bill says, “Good night Princess. I’ll see you in the morning.”
He walks towards his room with his head down as you come out in his t-shirt. It’s a perfect night shirt on you.
You say, “Good night Bill. I’ll see you in the morning.”
A small smile crosses his face as he goes into his room and shuts the door. You go to your room. Snuggling into the extra-large t-shirt you fall asleep.
In just under six hours you hear Bill’s softly trying to wake you.
Bill says, “Princess its time to wake up. We have a half hour before we have to leave.”
You jump up hearing you have such little time. A guy can easily get ready in half an hour but you have to shower and figure out what to wear and do your make-up and…. Bill sees you rushing around like a chicken with its head cut off.
Bill says, “All you need is a shower and throw on some pants and a shirt. We won’t be late I promise.”
You grab yellow shorts and a royal blue button up sweater and run into the bathroom to shower. You brush your hair out and put it in a ponytail since that is the quickest thing you can do. You are out in the livingroom within twenty-five minutes. You put on a baseball cap you see on the table but hide your face. You don’t wear much make-up, but you like to hide the imperfections you think you have.
As you head to the door you say, “Don’t look at me.”
Chuckling as he grabs his keys Bill says, “Ok, but you will always look beautiful to me. You probably look your best without any make-up at all.”
You need coffee and you’re angry he didn’t wake you sooner. He opens the car door for you to get inside. You have your arms crossed. You snap at Bill when he gets in the car.
You say, “Look at me. I’m hideous and I want coffee. I never go anywhere in the morning without make-up and especially without first having coffee.”
Bill says, “I got it Princess. What kind of coffee would you like? Do you want some food also?”
Bill is on his phone as he calmly tries to get you everything you want.
You say, “Carmel latte and a chocolate chip croissant.”
Bill says, “No problem. Your make-up and hair will be the first thing they do this morning. “
He starts the car driving to the appointment.
You say, “Oh, I guess that’s cool.”
You take a deep breath to calm down. You know he is just doing his best. He did set up this whole day for you. When you go into the shop you are both greeted with coffee. Bill is taken one way for a last fitting of his suit and you are taken the other direction. Everyone fawns over you as one lady twists your hair up out of the way and puts some basic make-up on you. You feel much better after that.
You get measured when they stand you on a small stage. Then a myriad of dresses are brought into the room in every color and style imaginable.
A shorter guy with bleach blond hair enters the room with a clip board in hand.
He says, “You look beautiful Princess. You will be easy to fit. I will find you the perfect dress for tomorrow night. Just call me your Fairy Godmother. Now what are some of your favorite colors?”
You say, “I like to wear red, blue and yellow mostly, but I’m open to whatever you think will look best.”
He says, “Absolutely no yellow. The critics will crush you for that color and it does nothing for Billy. We are here to make you look fabulous to complement his completely dopey sexy man thang. He is yummy, isn’t he.”
You blush as you say, “Yes, I guess he is um yummy.”
He says, “Your so shy. I love it. Oh, I know he’s going to want to eat you up when we are done. Of course, he won’t see this creation until tomorrow night but boy are we going to blow his mind.”
You giggle as you watch your Fairy Godmother go through the dresses on every rack throwing a bunch on the floor as his helpers come to grab them to take them to the back. They are obviously the no pile. He finally turns to you.
He says, “I think we can work with one of these. You ready to play twenty-seven dresses but with more like fifty?”
You say, “Bring it on. I love trying on cloths.”
He says, “That’s good because we are going to be here awhile.” He snaps his fingers and says, “Bring her a Evian or do you like Fuji water better Princess?”
You say, “Either one is fine.”
He says, “With that meekness someone is going to bring you tap water.”
You say, “Fuji water is what I want while I try on all these dresses.”
He says, “That’s the way to do it girl. Now I have mostly short dresses for you. We can also make them shorter to fit your frame. I think you will look best in ruby red but also I have some blue to see if they bring out those gorgeous eyes more.”
His assistants help you try on each dress. He looks at you from all directs. they pin things when they are told. You turn around when you are told. Sometimes a breast pops out. Sometimes the dress just isn’t comfortable and you say so. Your Fairy Godmother keeps shaking his head no, even though there have already been a few you really like. Its way more work than you expected, and you ask for another fuji water. They bring it to you quickly. Eventually he raises his hands.
He says, “Stop, I think we found it. The perfect dress. I knew red was your color. How do you like it?”
You say, “I love it. Its comfortable to wear. And I love how the skirt twirls up a bit when I spin. “
He says, “now for shoes Princess. How high of heel can you walk in without falling. Your man is very tall. We don’t want it to look like he is dating a little girl and you easily look like a teenager.”
Giggling you say, “I can wear six-inch wedge heels but I’m not comfortable with stilettos.”
He says, “Oh, sweetheart he didn’t hire you to go with him so we are definitely staying away from anything that would insinuate you are a girl for hire. Give me a minute. I will go find you the perfect wedge heels to go with that amazing dress. We only need to shorten it up three inches, so it is exactly six inches above your knees.”
His associates start pinning the bottom of the dress while he goes to the back for your shoes. You drink your water as you try to stand as still as possible. You rather not be pricked by a stray pin. He comes back with three pairs of wedge heels. One is red glitter that match the dress perfectly. The other is silver glittery that matches the material of the dress. The third is shiny but not glittery. They are red with a royal blue flower that has a little yellow in the center. He holds those up first.
He said, “I thought you might love these. A dash of yellow and blue to match your eyes is fine I say. To Hell with the vultures.”
You say, “I love them!”
He says, “Good the rest of these are a bit gaudy anyway. Sit, sit so I can put them on you and see your strut.”
You sit down and he puts them on you. The strap fits perfectly on your ankle. They don’t feel to big or to small. They feel and look perfect. You get up. After walking a few steps you spin.”
He screams with delight as he says,” You will truly be the Princess of this Ball. You just need one more thing from me.”
He opens a few drawers and shovels things round before he pulls out a lace mask. He put it on you.
He says, “Look in the mirror Princess.”
You look in the mirror and grin.
He says, “You don’t remove this all night and it will drive him crazy until you do. Now, I am sorry, but I must fix that dress overnight, so I need it back. I will go check on your love while my assistants help you get yourself back into that cute shorts outfit you were wearing when you came in today. I don’t care what the fashion police say, yellow looks fabulous on you.”
He leaves the room. His assistants help you get out of the mask, shoes and dress and put them all together on a hanger with a bag attached and mark it with the name “Snow Princess”. You are way happier than when you got there. You walk out and Bill is standing there rubbing his neck, picking invisible lint off his shirt and rubbing his hands together. He sees you are happy and smiles. You run over to him and he picks you up and swings you around before putting you down,
Chuckling Bill says, “So, it went well.”
You say, “It was amazing. I tried on about fifty dresses.”
Escorting you out to the car Bill says, “But you found one you liked.”
You say, “I found a dress you will love.”
He says, “I wasn’t planning on wearing a dress but cool.”
You laugh as you get in the car. He goes around and gets in to drive.
Bill says, “A trip to the spa is next.”
Without telling him detail about what you will be wearing you go on and on about your experience. He just smiles. He pulls up to the doors of the spa and a valet is there to park the car. Bill gets out, hands the valet his keys and goes around to open your door. He kisses the top of your hand as he helps you out and you swear you see a flash of light like a camera go off before he rushes you inside.
Bill says, “Sorry about the pictures. Sometime the paparazzi figure out where I am going and just take my picture. They might have just got your hand. I shielded you enough so no one will see your face. I know we can’t let your Stepmother figure out you are here.”
You say, “Yes, that would be bad.”
Bill says, “We will leave through the secret exit when we are done. I don’t what to take any chances with you.”
The two of you walk in and several attendants come over to greet you. You are taken to two separate rooms again. They have you strip and just put on a white rob. Then you meet up with Bill again in a room with two tables. The low-lit room has some light piano music playing and smells like jasmine and vanilla. Bill unwraps his rob and lays on the table. You do the same on the other table.
Yawning Bill says, “They will let us rest here for a while before our message so if you are tired go ahead and nap.”
You say, “Ok, I could use a little nap.”
You both drift off for about an hour before you feel warm oil on your back. You keep your eyes shut as you get a soft gentle message over your whole body.
Your masseuse leans down when he whispers, “when you are ready, I can take you to the other room for a facial and mani-pedi.”
You open your eyes as you lift your head and look over to Bill. He seems passed out. Steaming rocks are laying all over the back of his body. Just a towel barely covers his ass. You get up slowly and your masseuse helps you put your robe back on and tie it in the front. When you sit in the chair for your facial another person offers you a bottled water before he gets started. You take a few sips and then he lays you back and message your face. He rubs some thick gritty lotion on your face and puts a warm towel over it.
He says, “This just needs to set a few minutes Princess. Can you breathe?”
You nod yes. The music is relaxing so time seems to pass quickly or maybe you dozed off again. After he rinses your face, he puts some light make up on you. When you look in the mirror your face looks brighter than it ever has been. Another person comes over to you.
She says, “Hi Princess. I will be doing your mani-pedi. We can do your pedicure first so you can have some lunch. We can get you anything you would like.”
You glance around for Bill as you follow her over to the pedicure station. You see him relaxing as he gets a facial. It makes you feel better when you see him close by.
You say, “I’ll take a Pink drink and a Tomato and Mozzarella sandwich from Starbucks please.”
She nods and gives your order to an assistant who runs out the door. As your feet are soaking, she is back with your lunch. By that time Bill is sitting next you and the assistant runs to get his lunch.
You say, “Did you have a nice nap Bill.”
Chuckling he says, “Yeah, how about you?”
You say, “Yeah, this is very nice.”
Bill says, “Yeah, it’s cool to come here before I go to an event or if I just feel stressed.”
He reaches over to hold your hand. Your meal sits on a small table beside you, so you take a few sips and eat slowly. Then its time for your manicure. You slowly let go of Bill’s hand as you are led away from him again. You explain to them what your shoes look like so your nails will match. You don’t want them to long but a little over lay with red color and blue flowers with yellow middles would be great. They do just that without making it look to gaudy. You watch Bill get a manicure with clear polish. He patiently waits for you when he is done. When you are done you head back home.
In the car Bill says, “Your nails look great. I can’t wait to see the dress that goes with them.”
You say, “I can’t wait to show you the dress that goes with them.”
You walk to the door hand in hand looking at each other smiling. He takes both of your hands as you stand at the door.
You say, “Thank you for all we did today.”
Bill says, “Your welcome Princess. I’d do anything to see that pretty smile on your face.”
This just makes you smile bigger. He pulls you in closer. You wrap your arms around his neck as you look into his eyes. He leans down. You close your eyes really wanting to kiss him at this moment. Its about as perfect as it can be. Alex opens the door.
Alex say, “They made it home. I made spaghetti and meatballs for dinner.”
Even though you didn’t even kiss him you rush in a little embarrassed you were caught in an intimate moment. You head to the restroom to wash up.
Under his breath Bill says, “Fuck you Alex.”
Gustaf says, “We have to protect the Princess’ virtue.”
Sam says. “I think someone could use some alone time in their room before they get to backed up. You know that’s not medically safe.”
All the guys are laughing when you come out of the bathroom. Even the kids are laughing even though they have no idea what they are laughing about. Bill has a dopey pouty look on his face. You put your hand on his back and he jumps.
You say, “You alright?”
Gustaf says, “Oh, he’s just a little blue.”
They all laugh again.
You say, “Ok, boys enough for now. Let’s have a nice dinner.”
Alex, Sam, Gustaf and Valter say, “Yes, Princess.”
The kids follow suit and say, “Yes, Princess.”
Bill goes to wash up before dinner. You sit down.
Gustaf says, “We should start without him. It might take him awhile.”
You give him a stern look.
Gustaf says, “Sorry Princess.”
But everyone starts to eat including you. Eventually Bill comes out to join the family feasting. Everyone is to busy eating to say anything else. You excuse yourself when you are done. Exhausted from your day you just want to get some sleep, so you are ready for whatever this ball has in store for you. You know you will eventually get time alone with Bill tomorrow to get that first you hope of many kisses and more.
#alex skarsgard#gustaf skarsgard#bill skarsgard#hot tub#snow in hollywood#red and the full moon#vee#fairytale
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Kitten (part 1) - ⛈️
JAJDOSJDJSJSNZJD I’m so excited. So, if you don’t know, I originally wrote a sugar daddy! David smut and then a stripper!reader smut. I kept coming up with new ways to keep both stories going, and decided to keep going with the sugar daddy one because that one got more of a response, BUT then an idea for a scene of angst (not in this part) came to me with the reader being his sugar baby and a stripper and I decided to combine the two stories. This is the beginning, it’s very slow, nothing really happens except meeting most of the VS. as always, this is trash but I hope you guys enjoy. also s/o to that one anon that said Kitten as her stripper name cause I fuCKING CHOKED!!
“Babygirl!” Zane calls through your apartment, you hear that door slam close and footsteps coming through towards you’re living room. You pop your head around the corner seeing that Heath is with him too.
“What’s up guys?” you ask. You had given them a key to your apartment for emergencies only, but they never really used it for that.
“Wanna go to a party with us tonight?” asks Heath.
“Ugh guys, I’ve worked all week and was technically supposed to work today-”
“But you aren’t and you’re not staying in! When was the last time you partied?” Zane interrupts.
“Yesterday, when I was working! My feet hurt and I’m tired guys, maybe next time.” you whine. Both boys shake their heads and look at each other and back to you.
“You’re going, that’s final.” says Heath. He turns to your bedroom and walks in Zane following after.
“Hey! What are you doing!?” you yell, shooting up from your spot to follow them through your door.
“Looking for something for you to wear!” Zane says. They go through your clothes deciding some pieces were too revealing or not revealing enough. Heath pulls out a sheer diamond studded top gasping.
“This! You’re wearing this honey!” he shouts.
“Oh my God that would go so good with those thigh high boots I bought last week! Oh and black jeans, I can wear a fur coat, or is that extra- wait I’m not going!” you ramble. They laugh at you and Zane throws a pair of dark black jeans at you.
“Yes you are. Now get ready, we have to be there in an hour.”
You spend the next hour doing your hair and makeup, making sure you looked good, your tiredness faded away and was replaced by excitedness. You didn’t get to go out often, only really partying at the club when you were working, and you were ready to have a night with your friends and meet new people. Zane opens the bathroom door as your finished putting in some diamond studs into your ear piercing.
“I gotta pee babe.” he says and goes to the toilet. “You look good, oh my! Were you being serious about the fur coat?”
You turn back to the mirror making sure you didn’t miss a hair or anything, “I don’t know, it’s my first time meeting your friends. I don’t want to overwhelm them or make them think I’m snobbish.”
“I think you should wear it. It’s apart of your personality, and honestly they’ll probably love it.” he says finishing up and flushing the toilet, he walks to the sink and washes his hands, “Plus, imagine the type of impression you’ll make? Dripping in diamonds and wear a fur coat? A queen.”
You giggle, “Yeah I guess. Black or white?”
“Heath! Black or white coat to go with miss thangs outfit?” Zane yells, grabbing your hand and dragging you out the bathroom.
“White, it’ll give you a sense of purity. And you can yell at someone for stepping on it and make it a bigger deal.” he says. You throw your head back laughing.
“If someone steps on my coat or my shoes I’m fighting, period.” you say still laughing. You go back to your room and grab a long white fur coat from your closet, then reach under your bed for your shoe box. You slide the boots up your thigh, zip the side, repeating the action to the other side, then slip on the coat. Looking on your full length mirror you think you look extra, a diamond studded sheer shirt, white fur coat, thigh highs, and diamond covered jewelry? It’s a little much, but that’s your personality. You go to your dresser sliding on a few rings and a heavy silver necklace with diamonds glittering everywhere and walk back to your living room where Zane and Heath wait.
“Damn bitch! You look like a real rich bitch!” Heath says, making you snort.
“Is the fur real?” he asks.
“God no, I would never.” you place your hand over your heart mocking offensive. He rolls his eyes at your dramatics.
“Okay, let’s go. We’re already running late!” Zane ushers us out of my apartment. We make our way to the garage and hop into Zane’s G-Wagon.
“You gotta let me drive GiGi one day, I kinda want one.” you say.
“Oh for sure, yeah.” he says.
“I thought you wanted a Tesla?” Heath questions.
“Yeah i still do but I want to test drive one first and I don’t know if they allow that at the dealership.”
“One if our friends has a Tesla, we could ask him to let you test it out.” he says.
“You know David isn’t going to let her drive his car, he doesn’t even let us.” Zane says laughing.
“That’s because we’re boys, she’s a pretty girl. He’ll probably let her do whatever she wants just for smiling.” he says while rolling down his window and blowing vape smoke out.
“I’d do a lot more than smile to test out his car.” you say. Zane lets out a loud laugh and Heath starts choking on smoke. You guys start talking about the club and how you’re getting more tips and they talk about vlogging and their friends.
“You should pick up a Vlog camera, y/n. People would probably be interested in the daily life of a LA stripper.” says Zane.
“Oh yeah”, you snort “waking up at 1pm, eating leftovers, showering and then getting all dolled up just to sweat it all off on a pole. Real interesting.”
“Then do beauty videos, show people how to do your dramatic ass looks. You’ll put Jeffree Star and James Charles to shame.” adds Heath.
“You just should put videos up, you have such an amazing personality and people would love you. Hell our fans love when you join coffee talk!” says Zane.
“Maybe, I just don’t know where I’d begin. And then if someone finds out what club I work at then what?”
“It’s not like they could get in, most of them would probably be under age.”
“Exactly, then I’d be considered a bad role model.”
Zane looks back to you through the rearview mirror “Are you ashamed of your job?”
“No, bu-”
“Then who gives a fuck? Do YouTube if you want, we both think you should. We’ll help you pick out equipment and set up and edit. It’ll be a bonding experience!” Heath says, turning in his seat to look back at you. You throw your head back and sigh.
“I’ll think about it.” they cheer from the front and start talking about the best cameras for you to use and you roll your eyes. Minutes later you’re pulling up to a mansion, Zane parks his car on the street lined up with cars. You hop out the backseat, closing the door and straighten out your clothes. You feel the vibrations of the music as you walk around the car standing in between the two.
“Okay, if for any reason you feel uncomfortable and want to go home, tell me and we’ll go home. Don’t take drinks from strangers, don’t go anywhere with someone you don’t know. If you feel like someone is getting a little to close just punch them, if you feel like something happened to your drink but you drank it already go to the nearest room and lock yourself in and text us. If you-”
“Jesus Zane! I’m 21, and work at a freaking strip club. I’ll be fine. Since when did you become daddy bear?” you laugh.
“Actually, we prefer brother bears but whatever.” says Heath. You guys start walking towards the house and he holds the door open for you. You’re immediately engulfed in the sound and smell of the party, beer cans and red cups littering the floor and smoke coming from all directions.
“Remember what I said!” Zane leans down and shouts in your ear, you nod your head. You feel Heath’s hand snake into yours and pull you along, reaching back you grab Zane’s and pull him too. Heath’s leading you out the back door to the backyard.
“Carly said they were back here, let’s go find them and introduce you to everyone.” he shouts over the music. You start to get nervous, Zane and Heath were your only real friends in LA, all others were fake or stopped hanging out with you once they found out that you strip, you were scared that their friends weren’t going to like you and that would be it.
“Heath! Zane!” a girl shouts, you look over and see a short girl with short red hair waving you guys over. You guys make you way, the boys hugging her when you reach her.
“Carly! How are you babe?” Zane asks, moving to stand on the side of you.
“I’m good, how about you guys?”
“We’re good. Oh! This is our friend that we’re always talking about, y/n” say Heath.
She smiles at you and opens her arms for a hug you step forward and are engulfed in her embrace. “It’s so good to finally meet you! We were beginning to think you didn’t exist.” she laughs.
“It’s nice to meet you too!” you say.
“Where’s everyone else?” asks Heath.
“Oh, some are sitting over here . Others are walking around filming bits . They can never just relax, always have to have a camera attached to their hand.” she says rolling her eyes. She starts walking back towards a few people sitting on some couches, a boy with blonde hair and a nose piercing and has his arm thrown over a girl with brown hair and a nose piercing. On the opposite couch there’s a boy with dark hair and a girl with blonde hair holding hands. There’s a few other people scattered about that you recognize.
“Alright! Introductions!” shouts Zane. He starts pointing at people and naming them. “Scotty Sire, and Kristen McAtee vlog squads only functioning couple.” he points blonde boy and his girlfriend, you wave and they wave back. “That’s Todd Smith and Corinna Kopf, our very own drama series.” he points to the opposite couch, the guy flips him off and the girl waves at you. “That over there is Erin Gilfoy, her and Carly are best friends. The guy standing next to her is Alex Ernst, you probably know him as the Doritos guy.”
“The one from the vine!?” you ask.
“The one and only.” you throw your head back laughing.
“You’re friends with Doritos guy and didn’t tell me, I would have came sooner.” the rest laugh along with you.
“I don’t know where everyone else is and I’m not chasing them down looking so this is your group for the night. I’m gonna go get a drink, stay here.” Zane says and drags Heath along with him. Kristen pats the open spot next to her.
“Sit here.” she says and moves over to give you more room. You sit and smile at her in thanks.
“So how do you know Zane and Heath?” Todd asks, leaning forward.
“Oh I’m used to live nextdoor to them, one night they were like, insanely drunk, and trying to open my apartment. I was terrified at first and didn’t want to open the door but when Heath started singing some country rap song I dragged them inside and let them sleep in my living room. Been friends ever since.” They all laugh at the story finding it hilarious.
“Yeah, that sounds like them.” he says.
“Are you a YouTuber?” asks Kristen.
“Nope, I’m a stripper.” you say casually. Scott laughs loudly while Todd chokes on his sip of beer.
“I knew you had to be a stripper, that fur coat is beautiful and extra.” says Corinna as she rubs his back trying to calm him down.
“It’s not real fur, is it?” asks Kristen.
“No, it’s not. And thanks, I was going for the extra vibe tonight, hence the whole outfit.” you gesture to your necklace and shirt.
“That’s good, where’d you get it?” asks Corinna.
“This one I believe I got in London from Jakke.”
“You’ve been to London?” Scott asks and you nod. “How was it?”
“Cold and rainy.” you say laughing “but really fun. I would love to go back.” For the next few minutes you sit talking about places you’ve been and where you want to go, you learn that they’re all YouTubers and that Scott makes music and is going on tour soon. Alex and Erin join in the conversation and Zane and Heath come back with bottles of beer and a handle of vodka.
“Let’s get fucking drunk!” they screamed. The next hour and a half is full of conversation and drinking, some people leaving to dance and others coming back after getting footage for their videos. You meet Durte Dom and BigNik,Dom already trying t o make a move on you but you quickly shut him down. You were now sitting down in between Zane and Heath as Zane talks, waving his hands about wildly telling a story. Your head is resting on Heath’s shoulder, and you’re falling asleep when a boy with all black, even a black baseball cap, on and a camera in his hand walks up.
“Heath, can you come film a bit with me really quick?” he asks.
“Uh I don’t know, I think y/n is sleeping on me.” you sit up and shake your head.
“Go ahead I’ll just fall asleep on Zane.” you say.
“Actually, you wanna come film it with us? I need a girl for it.” he asks. You look up at him taking him in, he’s cute, in a dorky way.
“Are you going to pay me?” you ask and Heath chuckles.
The boy looks you up and down and scoffs “I don’t think you need me to pay you, sweetheart.”
“I might not need it, but I want it.” you stare at him and he stares at you, quirking up an eyebrow at the very obvious double meaning. You don’t know where this random burst of confidence came from. Heath clears his throat interrupting the weird staring contest.
“Let’s go so we can get you home baby girl. I think you’ve had a little too much to drink tonight.” Heath reaches for you hand and pulls you up dragging you to the front the house. It takes a few minutes for you guys to understand what to do and then a few takes to get it right. By the time you’re done Zane is walking out calling for you guys to hurry up so you can go.
You turn back to the boy. “Well I hope you got the footage you need.”
“I did, thanks. My name’s David by the way.” he looks down messing with something on the camera.
“My friends call me y/n, but the special ones call me Kitten.” you say, suddenly confident again. His head shoots up and opens his mouth and closes it again thinking of something to say, but you’re already walking away.
“See you around, David.” you call over your shoulder. You get into Zane’s car, him and Heath already inside.
“What did you say to the poor boy?” asks Zane.
“My name. And my other name.” you say looking out the window at the boy still standing dumbfounded. They both start laughing loudly and the car pulls off as you join them.
#david dobrik imagine#david dobrik blurb#david dobrik smut#kitten: the series#vlog squad#the vlog squad
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[神なる君と] Osananajimi Duo - Yakumo
Second route of the game. #mfw ==== (ง•̀_•́)ง‼
*
-Takekiyo Yakumo-
Niiiiisssssaaaannnnnnn!!!
Yakumo is the other osananajimi of the trio. He is one year older than Sakuya and Narumi, and acts as the protective big brother - when they were young, some older kids took Sakuya’s *precious amulet*, and Yakumo went to get it back from them and got beaten up really badly.
Sakuya later tells him that at that time he seemed like a ‘hero’ and she had always looked up to him. So I guess there’s like a love triangle (...love flowchart??) that goes: Narumi --> Sakuya --> Yakumo since the very beginning.
Also early on in the story, Yakumo tells Sakuya in a ‘simulation event’ that, even if he loved her, he would never confess and they can never be together, because it would end in tragedy. Pfffft whatever nii-san, that just means I will have to make the first move *evil laugh*.
My feelings during his route went from hilarious, to sad, to finally disconcerting. He’s kind of a poor bastard and MIA in half of his own route. When I finally got the the two endings I wanted to throw my game console out of the window... (╯°□°)╯︵ ԀSԀ
Yes, exactly.
Aaanyway, there are two big revelations here:
1. Aki’s backstory: Kibi Aki is the 16-year-old spirit medium sent by the Ministry to spy on monitor Kunihoshi Shrine, because Mikoto forgot to send in his report (#justMikotothings). After Sakuya accidentally fucks up one of her assignments, it’s revealed that she actually comes from a renowned onmyouji family, and left home to train under the ministry at a young age in order to prove herself.
2. Kunugi’s backstory: Kunugi is the shape-shifting demon who stole the *magical seal* that protects the town, and Aki’s target of investigation. I didn’t expect to like him at first, but his tragic romance is pretty kewl I have to admit:
Kunugi was a douchebag since birth and terrorised the village so all the villagers hated him. One day, a girl named Yuki wandered into his territory. She was a grade A-level village idiot idiot, and after 3 days of trying and failing to find her way out, he gave her some food and water so she wouldn't die on his grounds. She was very grateful and started to get close to him. She also begged him to stop terrorising the village. Eventually she annoyed him enough that he agreed.
Then gradually, he began to help the villagers here and there, and even became friends with them. One day they wanted to thank him for his help. They gave him a small wooden box, and told him it was some kind of national treasure. Just then Yuki intercepted, and the box emitted some light beam that went into her body.
After that Yuki got progressively sicker and on the brink of death. Out of anger and confusion, he tried to destroy the box, but it's more sturdy/fireproof than an LV tote bag. Eventually she told him that the box contains a cursed rock (i.e. the remains of the Great Demon), and once every two hundred years the village has to offer a human sacrifice to prevent the curse from escaping and causing disaster. This time the villagers chose him, so she gave her life to save his...
Kind of hard to imagine how she fell in love with this (ahem *Aki*)... hopefully a few hundred years ago he took on a sexier appearance...
But I digress. Let’s get back to Yakumo XD. So his deal is basically that the Takekiyo bloodline has been chosen as the human sacrifice every 200 years. As a result, Yakumo is inflicted with a curse that puts him to sleep for longer and longer periods, until he eventually goes into a longggg sleep and never wakes up. This also explains his superhuman athletic abilities and sixth sense, because the Force be with him powers of the Great Demon live within him.
Early on in the common route, he occasionally says things like, ‘you must live on happily when I am gone’ and gives Sakuya a #sadface, like someone with a terminal illness. Eventually Sakuya finds out the truth from his parents, after which he couldn’t hide anymore, and starts to reveal all his fears and doubts, as well as his feelings for her.
As it turns out Yuzuru knows a way to break the curse, but it requires putting Yakumo into a coma for years, and there’s a good chance of death. Basically the supernatural equivalent of a high-risk medical operation I guess. He has until the hoshimatsuri to decide whether to take a gamble with this method, or let the curse continue slowly chipping away at his lifespan.
...Of course he chooses the former. You’d be an idiot not to.
1. Good End: It’s been 7 years (!), and he still hasn’t woken up from his coma. According to Yuzuru, 5 years is the ‘safety period’, and after that he’s as good as gone. Sakuya doesn’t give up, and **10 years later** (#tumbleweeds) he finally wakes up on hoshimatsuri night. They go on to have a baby who looks ridiculously like Yakumo ...and will probably be affected by the same curse...? Oh well let’s hope Yuzuru is still alive by then to do his thang.
2. Tragic End: Under Yuzuru’s advice, Sakuya gives up and lets him erase all her memories. Yakumo eventually wakes up after 10 years anyway, and it sucks for him because unlike in Narumi’s end, Yakumo still remembers everything and has to live with it for the rest of his life. Like I said, poor bastard...
Understatement of the year.
*
[Thoughts] Somehow this route felt shorter and less tearful than Narumi’s, maybe because I got used to the general setting and gameplay. Yakumo’s ema events feel like they came out of a shounen manga and had me in stitches the whole time. I can’t recall any other otome game that made me laugh this much (...except maybe 「私のレアルは充実している」).
What I like about this route is the added tension here compared to Narumi’s route: in Narumi’s case it’s pretty obvs that he has a crush on Sakuya. He said it himself that he’s never viewed Sakuya as a sister from the beginning. So on that front there’s no doubt from his side, his whole conflict revolves only around the ‘forbidden love’ aspect.
Whereas with Yakumo, when he shows hints of feelings towards Sakuya, they’re often ambiguous between the actions of an older brother towards a little sister vs. a love interest. That made it all the more exciting.
Also apart from the curse/risk of death and that stuff, Yakumo also had his ‘manly pride’ to reckon with - letting Sakuya see his weak side and realise that he’s not always her ‘hero’. It was pretty damn emotionally satisfying when he finally came clean about his secrets and started letting Sakuya into his world. Although, much of his later dialogue is pretty cliche tbh. I actually found his baka persona more interesting. But eh.
I guess it’s this pride of his that makes it necessary for Sakuya to be an adult here. Whenever his white lies or ‘fake cheerfulness’ made her angry, she had to learn/choose to coax things out of him gently instead of calling him out on it. Conversely I felt that with Narumi she was more direct, and had more leeway for wagamama.
The Aki/Kunugi story arc was a high point of the route for me. Aki’s background helps to explain her personality in so many ways. I love her character growth and development here, as she eventually learns to accept help from other people, instead of trying do everything by herself. Ahh... her whole story strikes so many chords with me. I also love how she got her own grand love story here.
(Part of me is curious if the Aki-lookalike and Kunugi’s ‘true form’ will make an appearance later on. It’s a long shot, but let’s hope!)
This route also revealed a lot about Yuzuru, whom I’m liking more and more and whose story I’m really looking forward to... I thought I had more to say about him but nahhh. Asshole who’s a secret softie at heart <3.
I’ll sign off this post with the following pun from Genpei which I thought was pretty cheeky -
#otome#otome game#idea factory#otomate#psp#kami naru kimi to#sakurai takahiro#wafuu#supernatural#fantasy
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My first ever nurseydex fic! Please go on ao3 and leave comments and reblog & all that jazz, I’ll love you forever. Also! If you have a prompt you desperately want someone to fill, just send it my way! Okay enjoy :)
//
William Poindexter was wheeling someone, but for the life of them, no one in the haus could get him to confess who.
Nursey noticed it first, entirely on accident. Dex had walked into the kitchen, shoulders at least two inches lower than they usually were, expression calm, and when Nursey knocked over his water, Dex just laughed and said, "Don't worry, I'll clean it up."
Nursey stared at him, shocked. The shock had to be the reason he said something as stupid as what he said next: "Whoa, bro, who took the stick out of your ass? You're acting... weird."
Unfortunately for Dex, Ransom, Holster, AND Shitty were all in the kitchen (preparing for the kegster that night) when Nursey said this, and the way they all immediately stopped their conversation and zeroed in on him was truly frightening. Dex barely had time to give Nurse the stink eye before he was being devoured by their well-meaning but invasive friends. Nursey wanted to join in on the chirping, but he realized he was feeling a little bit sick to his stomach, so he escaped upstairs.
Despite this, or maybe because of it, Nursey was the first person Dex told.
A couple days later he still hadn't cracked, to the endless irritation of Ransom's spreadsheets. They were hanging out in the library with Chow, but when Chris went to the snack shack downstairs, Dex tapped Nursey's foot with his.
"Hey," he said, which made Nurse's heart start thumping a little bit harder, because what could he possibly have to say that Chowder couldn't hear? And Dex's expression didn't help. He looked... nervous. And a bit vulnerable, like he was made of glass, which of course was never a good combination with Derek's clumsy ass.
"Yeah?" he said, trying to be delicate.
"I kind of have a question."
"What's it about?"
"Well, it's about... poetry," he said, looking anywhere but Nursey's eyes."Poetry? Bro, have you been holding out on me?? Do you need me to critique your couplets? I'll do it, I promise, there is nothing I want more than to read poetry written by Mr. Grumpy—"
"Shut up," Dex laughed, the tension eased a little bit. "No, it's not my poetry. It was written... well. It's kind of, um, about me. And I want you to tell me if it's good."
Nursey's heart plunged into a cold lake. "Oh, for real? Well, I mean, there isn't really such a thing as bad poetry, you know. I'm not elitist about that sort of thing." The look on Dex's face told him that was the wrong answer. "But, I mean, I'll take a look. Do you have it with you?"
Dex wordlessly handed it over, and Derek read.
"I've never been very religious
I believe in entropy and science, experiments and evidence, gravity and stars
But then I look and I swear, there is something in the glow of your golden eyes and well
that is an unexplained phenomena if I've ever seen one
And perhaps you were always meant to disprove my hypothesis
Because I swear
I found Virgo in the constellations on your collarbones
And there must be a gravity around you
because I feel it like a tug on my sternum when you leave
And if there is a God, he must be a sadist
Because I am sure he made you and thought,
"Here is a smile they will start wars for.""
There was a lot going through Derek Nurse's head.
First, his English major brain started critiquing it: too short, not a very smooth flow, some odd sentence structures.
Then he thought, God, who could describe Dex in cliches. Gravity? Constellations? I would have said—
Then he stopped himself. And started to panic. And realized this person was really in love with Dex, because duh. They weren't wrong about the smile.
He glanced down and saw he'd been gripping the page tight enough to crinkle, and smoothed it onto the table.
"So?" Dex said, searching Nursey's face almost desperately. "Is it good? Do—do you like it?"
Nurse almost laughed at that. Was it good? Yeah, maybe. Did he like it?
Fuck no.
He focused on the first question.
"Um, well, I really liked the way she tied the subject to her questioning religion and science, almost making him a messiah-like figure, and the continuity of that metaphor—"
"Nurse. This isn't workshop. I asked you if you liked it."
Derek tried to imagine that he'd been presented this piece in workshop, and not by his d-partner, who was currently giving him the most unbearably eager expression. Nursey couldn't imagine why his opinion mattered to Dex, but he glared down at the paper and said, "Yeah, overall, I liked it."
Dex stared at him for another really long moment, and Nursey didn't know what to do with his hands, and then Dex grabbed the paper and shuffled it around.
"So. I mean, not to pry, but obviously—"
"His name's Evan," Dex said. "I met him at that Sunday kegster, the day party. He told me he wanted me to 'look' at his poem, but it's obviously about me, and I don't know. He's really nice and cute and it's just." Dex sighed, avoiding Nurse's eyes. "It's nice to know someone looks at me like that. That someone could, in any fucking universe, describe my eyes as 'unexplainable phenomena.' But I didn't know if it was just bullshit or what, so I wanted to show it to—to you."
Dex finally looked him in the eye again, and—oh. Nursey had been so fucking stupid, he was so mad he hadn't thought of writing poetry about Dex's eyes first. They were so raw, so expressive. He was a tad dumbstuck, until he managed to sputter out, "Well, do you—do you like him too?"
"I think I could," he said, like it was a confession. He looked away, toward the window, and Nursey really wished he was a photographer in that moment, so he could capture that look. "I really think I could."
//
In the end, Evan gave himself away.
Dex and Nursey were sitting alone at the kitchen table, with Bitty humming happily at the counter, when Derek saw it.
Before he could help himself, he whispered to his phone, "Oh, you know not what you do."
This earned him a very confused look from Dex. He simply handed over his phone, watching Dex's eyes bug out, as he raced to unlock his own phone and delete the incriminating evidence.
It was too late. They heard the loud, "Dude!" followed by Holster's booming "DUDE!!!" before Dex had even pulled up instagram. Ransom was on insta almost as much as Bitty was on twitter.
Dex's fate was sealed.
"Ummmmm DEX?" came Holster's voice down the stairs before he thundered into the kitchen. "Who is this HOTTIE commenting WINKY FACE EMOJIS on your selfies??"
"It's not a selfie—"
"Actually Holtz, I believe the comment in question was, 'looking good dex,' then the winky face emoji."
"Oh, of course, how could I be so foolish."
"Did y'all already send the screenshot to the gc?" Bitty asked, looking down at his continuously vibrating phone. "Oh, give Dex a break, will ya?"
"Yeah, I would love to, Bitty," Rans said, grinning at his phone with what could only be called malicious glee, "but it turns out Dex's new boo-thang has been posting delightful candids of our boy here along with captions written in—wait for it—free verse poetry."
"How the fuck did you find--? He's on private!" Dex objected, the confusion momentarily distracting him from hiding his very red face.
"Dude, this kid can write," Holster said. "Are you sure he's not only dating you for an excuse to write autumnal prose?"
"YES!" Rans yelled. "The poetry drew her in! Lardo joined the flaming!"
"GOD," Dex groaned, muffled into his sleeves since he was facedown on the table. "LET ME DIE HERE.”
"Now, of course we all support you and your sexuality, but in the interest of equal opportunity chirping—"
"SHUT UP HOLSTER!"
//
The real problem began when Nursey went to his poetry writing seminar on Wednesday, because now he knew what Evan looked like. He’d put a face to the poem, and discovered the proof confirming Evan’s sadist theory that God was personally TiVo-ing Derek’s Actual Life and laughing his ass off, because Evan?
Evan was in Derek’s poetry writing seminar.
Even better, when the prof counted them off into groups for mini-workshop sessions, Evan was in his group.
Guess which poem he brought to workshop?
Derek would have been the first to admit that he maybe didn’t handle the situation as maturely as possible. He had a reputation in their class of being opinionated, but even he knew as the words were coming out of his mouth that he was going overboard. He talked about this metaphor not hitting just right, that line maybe wasn’t totally accurate? (After all, he did know who the poem was about. He could judge accuracy.) By the end of class, he had practically rewritten the whole thing for him, but to his credit, Evan took the whole thing like a champ, taking notes on everything Derek said.
“By the way, are you married to the whole second-person thing?” Derek said, hating the words even as they came out of his own mouth.
“Um, well, I kind of conceptualized it as a literal love letter. Like, I wanted to evoke the feeling in the reader of like, the person who I love is pouring out their soul to me in an ode, and all that’s missing is some cursive and a postage stamp in the corner,” he said.
“That’s a really cool idea,” Derek gritted out, mostly because he meant it. “Is that why it’s so vague?” he asked, because maybe there was hope. Maybe he really just wanted Dex to read his poem.
“What?” Evan replied, looking surprised.
“Well, I mean, you don’t have any particular details in it: this could be about anyone. Did you do that intentionally so the reader could envision it being addressed to them?” And, honestly. His prying was getting a little pathetically obvious now.
“Oh. Um, I guess you’re right, but that wasn’t intentional. Actually, it is about a really specific person. Ha, guess it’s just the closeted queer kid in me, avoiding any obvious markers of gender or whatever. You’re totally right, I’ll work on that.”
Derek sunk back into his seat, real guilt settling on his chest as their groupmates sent Evan sympathetic looks.
It would have been much easier to hate Evan if Derek didn’t like him so much.
//
He didn’t mean to write the poem.
Honest. It just spilled out of his fingers, typed into a shame-note on his phone, not even titled.
Well, until the third draft. Then he titled the note, “Freckles.” And then he had to transfer it to google docs, where all his poetry went, just to be safe.
And somehow, some way, Derek ended up in the library printing out 20 copies for his entire workshop to read.
It wasn’t that he hated himself; nor even that he was convinced that it was that great of a poem. The whole “having feelings for Dex” thing was too confusing and intense and new for him to be able to be objective at all. It was just, he’d procrastinated the hell out of the assignment, since he'd had two essays due the same week and thought, “It’s a poetry prompt. I have notebooks stuffed with poetry. I’m sure I have something.”
Except, then it was the night before Wednesday, and he realized he didn’t have anything that fit the prompt.
Well. Except one poem.
Which was how he printed out and handed his own ode to Dex right into his boyfriend’s fucking arms.
Oh yeah, because that was a thing.
A couple weeks ago, half the team had “accidentally” run into Dex and Evan on a date, where Dex had introduced Evan as his boyfriend and Evan had tried to chat with
Nursey about their seminar and Nursey had excused himself to the bathroom, to quiet his shaking hands.
Since then, whenever Dex went to kegsters and the bars and even a house party at one of Rans's Weird Sciencey Friends's place, Evan was with him. Which like. If you didn't know they were together, you probably wouldn't even guess it. Nursey had never seen them kiss, and the most PDA he'd spotted was Dex dragging Evan out of a kegster by his hand. Technically. But the thing was, Dex was so...different when he was with Evan. Evan made him laugh, like belly laugh, all the time. Dex was constantly smiling or laughing or joking whenever Evan was in the room, and Nursey really just could not deal. If he'd thought he had it bad before, that was literally a joke compared to the sight of Dex animatedly telling a funny story, swinging his arms everywhere, barely able to finish for laughing so hard.
The problem was that he wasn't telling the story to Nursey.
All this, maybe, possibly, Nursey could handle. He could move on. If Dex hadn't walked into their room looking extremely distraught less than a week ago.
Well. Extremely distraught on Dex looked like mildly perturbed on most other people but Nursey could read Dex pretty well at this point.
"Dex?" he said, "Are you alright?"
He expected a brush-off, like every other time Nursey inquired after his emotional state. What he got was, "I don't know."
Nurse swiveled away from his laptop, full attention to Dex. "What's up?"
Dex gave a frustrated huff. "It's just...ugh. It's gonna sound shitty."
Nursey raised an unimpressed eyebrow.
Dex huffed again. "Okay. But I might not say it right. Um, so Evan has some... mental health issues. Which is fine! That isn't the problem. I like all of who he is, not just... ugh. The problem is... I don't think he's really... dealing with it?"
Nursey kept his face impassive. Dex knew about Nursey's mental health struggles as well, and yet he chose to come to him for this. He would withhold judgement until Dex said what he had to say.
"Like he... he makes me happy, and he makes me laugh, and he makes me feel good about myself. But he puts himself down all the time. And I don't think he's fishing for compliments or reassurance or anything, but it feels like, if I don't reassure him every time, I'm just feeding into it and reaffirming those thoughts and making everything worse. And that's like, a lot of pressure? And he has some really concerning symptoms. Like, he'll just casually drop that he had a panic attack in class or that he dissociated for hours this morning and I don't know what to do. I don't know how to help. I can't, I am so not qualified for that. So I'll be like, 'maybe you should see a therapist or get a diagnosis or like...talk to someone'? And he'll just be like 'I probably should' and then do nothing. And I try to tell him nothing will change or get better if he doesn't do anything, and I'm just starting to feel like if I don't make his mental health a priority then no one will, and because I care about him, I want to see him, I don't know, be okay. But that means taking it all on, and I just, I don't, I've been monologuing about this for long enough and please help."
Nursey nodded, face still carefully composed. He'd been in a similar situation with a cousin, and told Dex he was on the right track and had to take care of himself first, and to talk to Evan about it first, and if after that he couldn't prove he was making an effort to improve his health then Dex should end the relationship. All in all,
Nurse was quite proud with his maturity in handling the situation, and could sleep well knowing he gave Dex the advice he would give anyone.
Except.
Knowing this was so detrimental to Nursey's dumbass feelings-for-Dex heart balloon, which expanded with shallow, selfish hope with the knowledge that Dex wasn't totally happy and that Evan had, like, at least one flaw.
It was the stupid balloon that had made him write the poem in the first place. He just had to let some of the air out before it popped. How could he have known it would end up like this?
He reread the poem nervously while class was winding down, tuning out the prof's droning about atmosphere.
i bet you heard that your freckles were constellations, stars scattered across shoulders
but i have never heard something so wrong
stars are dead things, explosions of heat and gas, and what we see are the remnants of light, hanging on only to the echo
but your skin is a living masterpiece
a splattered miracle of pigment and sundrops and pointilism
you might be the water droplets that bead up on the car ride home, as i watch two drops race each other to avoid looking at your hair or your eyes or your freckled fists on the wheel, because i know if i look i will do something stupid like fall in love—
but it's too late. i didn't see it coming because i always thought it would be gradual, but all it takes is for me to see the fireworks of freckles on your sternum, permanently burned onto your skin like the imprint of the sun on the back of my eyes
and it explodes in my chest, this thing that i let happen
so no, dear, you are not like the constellations
so fickle, disappearing every morning, hiding behind the clouds
your freckles are like freckles
because i have tried and tried, but i cannot for the life of me think of a more beautiful word
An elbow in his side jolted him back to class. It was Evan's.
"Can't wait to read your poem!" he said.
"Haha, thanks," he said.
Haha, fuck, he thought.
//
"Nurse. I read your poem."
Nursey's eyes tracked slowly up from his reading to the puppy-dog eyed boy in front of him. Evan. Shit.
"I can explain," he said.
Evan slid into the booth next to him at Annie's. "I need your advice."
Nursey repeated Evan's word in his brain once, and then twice, and then a third time, really breaking down each word, and he was still confused. "What?"
"With Dex. I have eyes. You obviously really care about him. Like, you're in love with him, I mean. And maybe that makes me stupid for asking you, but I don't really have anyone else I know who'll hear what I have to say and have Dex's best interests at heart, and so I'm trusting you to be honest with me, because I don't really think I'm capable of being honest with myself right now."
"I'm sorry, are you asking me for relationship advice?" The words left his own mouth but they still didn't make sense.
"Kind of. It's just. Has Dex told you anything about me?"
He knew what Evan was asking. "He told me you had some mental health issues, yeah. And that it's been... well. A support system can't be one person."
Evan nodded, like this was what he had been wanting to hear, which only succeeded in confusing Nursey more.
"Yes. Exactly. So. I wanted to ask someone who actually knew Dex about it, because I don't think he's being honest with me. I mean, I think he's trying to hide his feelings because he's afraid it will like, break me, or make me feel worse, or whatever. I guess my question is... am I hurting him?"
And, fuck. All of Nursey's irrational dislike of Evan flew out the window when he heard that soft little question, Evan's voice almost too raw to bear.
Which was why Nursey knew he was being honest when he whispered, "Yes." He rushed on to amend, "Well, it's not actually your mental illness, whatever that is, Dex never specified. It's that Dex feels like the responsibility for your mental well-being is entirely on his shoulders, which is not healthy for anyone to feel, ever. He really cares about you, Evan. But from what I gather, you're putting a lot of weight on him. You need to have someone else besides Dex: your family, other friends, maybe a therapist. Okay, no, as someone with bipolar, you actually should definitely have a therapist. But it's gonna take a while, dude. And until then... yeah. You are hurting him."
The fucking look in his eyes, man. "I need him," he said.
"I know," Nursey replied. "Which is probably why you have to let him go."
Evan sighed, a release of understanding, of learning something you already knew. "Thank you. I just needed someone to say it out loud to me." He looked down at his hands, picking the skin off the side of the nail. "Um. Do you know how... where would I find a good therapist? Do you think?"
//
Things after that were harder. But also better.
Dex was devastated, he was. But Nursey could also see the relief in the set of his shoulders. That Evan would be okay, or he was on his way to being okay, and it wasn't Dex's job to fix him. Or anyone's job but Evan's, honestly. Nursey had almost forgotten the whole ode to Dex thing.
Almost.
Until Dex burst into their room, paper in hand, yelling, "Hey, Nurse? What the fuck is this?"
Nursey froze at his desk. He didn't have to look. He could feel the words on the paper in the room with them, haunting him. Why did he have to be so melo-fucking-dramatic all the time?
"What's what?" he said instead of all that, swiveling around calmly, thinking maybe if he acted chill his blood pressure would be fooled and decrease.
(Or maybe it would increase just enough that he could have a heart attack and be in the ER and not this room?)
"Nursey. Please don't insult my intelligence."
He risked a glance up to Dex's face, which didn't look mad or embarrassed or any of the emotions Nursey would immediately associate with an unwanted love confession.
"Look, you were never supposed to see it, okay—"
Dex let out a laugh, one of those laughs when there's some sort of emotion in you and you don't really know where to put it and it just bursts out into a laugh. Nursey thought of volcanoes and pillow fights and popped balloons. His fingers itched for a pencil.
"Oh, so you were just gonna let me be ignorant forever? You were really never gonna tell me this is how you feel?"
"I—" Nursey watched Dex's face, but he really couldn't reconcile Dex's tone with his words with his face. They were all criss-crossed, like Dex's eyelashes when he woke up from a nap.
His hand actually made it all the way to the pen on his desk, screaming to write it all down, before he forced it to return back to his lap just to fiddle with. It wasn't his fault Dex looked so beautiful like this. So alive.
"I don't know what you want me to say."
This was clearly not the right thing, because he saw the irritation settle into Dex's face, like tinder on a campfire, before he closed his eyes, leaning back, and breathing in deep.
"I'm sorry. I didn't mean to come in here picking a fight. I want you to be honest with me. Please."
"I—" Three seconds ago, he'd been composing poetry, prose, metaphors about his feelings. And yet somehow in this moment, he couldn't think of one single thing to say.
"I'm obsessed with you," he blurted. "It's kind of embarrassing, actually. I think about you literally all the time. And I always write what I'm thinking about. So I wrote that."
Dex shook his head, his lips turned up faintly in disbelief, like he was laughing at a joke no one had told yet. "I'm sorry, when did you write this?"
"Um...like... a month ago? I think? Maybe."
Dex's eyes closed, like he was having trouble with the math. Dex was really excellent at math.
"So you're telling me you've liked me about as long as I've been with Evan."
Nursey mumbled something that sounded suspiciously like "maybe."
"What about his poem?"
Nurse blinked. "What about it?"
This time Dex really did laugh. It sounded a bit delirious. "When I showed you his poem! Did you really think I wanted your opinion on his prose?"
Nursey said nothing, but the look on his face probably betrayed that yes, that was what he'd thought.
"For someone who can write such brilliant shit—" he waved the paper around, "—you really are dense sometimes. I was giving you a chance! To say something, to stop me, I don't know. But then you said you liked it, so I thought, 'well, that settles it, he's not into me. Time to move on.' And then I did. And then you have the audacity to write this motherfucking—"
Dex looked like he was edging into full on rant mode, so Derek stood up quickly and interrupted with, "Hey Dex?"
Dex hit the brakes, looking up at Nursey like he very much wanted to finish. "What?"
"Can I kiss you?"
And, man. Dex was so beautiful like this, arms askew in the middle of the point he'd been making, hair mussed, face confused, like his words had stopped but his brain was veering off course. He kind of looked like a mess. Derek's heart swelled.
"Okay," he said.
Derek rushed in, worried if he waited any longer Dex would keep talking.
He didn't.
Dex's hands found Nurse's waist, paper still in hand, gripping at his back and grabbing him, pulling him closer. Nursey framed his hands around Dex's face, dragging him into the kiss. One of his hands gripped at the back of Dex's neck, sliding up over his short hair, like he'd wanted to do for months.
His mouth was so warm, just like the rest of him, but more, somehow. Nursey opened his mouth, sucking on Dex's lip. Dex's hand reflexively squeezed Nursey's waist. Before he could get too cocky about that, Dex caught Nursey's bottom lip in his teeth, scraping slow over it, sending chills down his scalp over his whole body.
"Wait, wait, wait," Dex said, pulling away, kinda, in the sense that his mouth was no longer attached to Nursey's, but he was still pretty entwined all up in Derek. He leaned his head down to catch his breath, his panting blowing over Derek's neck, giving Derek the mental image of Dex kissing him there, which, fuck—
"I was gonna say something," Dex said, eyes still looking kind of scrambled.
"Mm-hmm," Derek hummed, leaning in close again. One of Dex's hands left Nursey's waist and brushed his own lips, and yeah, Nursey knew the feeling. His mouth was literally humming, floating away from the rest of him.
"I can't remember," Dex said, grinning, already leaning back into Derek.
"That's okay," Derek murmured against Dex's pulse, which he could actually feel thrumming rapidly against his lips. "We have time."
And he kissed and kissed and kissed him, until there wasn't a single freckle left untouched.
#nurseydex#dexnursey#derek nurse#william poindexter#dex x nursey#nursey x dex#omgcp#Check Please!#my fic#my nurseydex fic
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I needed a rant
I'm just going to write this down because I don't know how else to deal with this at the moment. My roommate is an asshole, it's gotten to bad that at this point I'm literally on the verge of tears. She is inconsiderate and rude and I don't know what to do. Sometimes my gut just tells me to go fucking punch the shit out of her but I wont because I'm better than that. I know for a fact that she could never beat my ass and it's not like I'm scared of her it's just that I'm scared of losing this home. I don't want to move anymore and if I do result to violence I'll be out and who knows where I'll be next? The last thing I want or need is too be in another fucking group home which will be right where I'm headed if I lose this place. '
And what could make me come to all of this? When I first met my roommate I knew we were not going to become close friends it was like I could see the future. You know when you meet someone and you just feel their negative energy? Well it was like that with her. Nevertheless, being that I just came out of a hellish rehabilitation program it was a miracle that I somehow was given a foster home. Foster homes are very, very rare for someone my age- especially coming from someone who was currently in a rehab. All anyone wants are little kids, and as a matter of fact my foster parent even admits she wasn't going to take me because she herself only wanted young kids. The only reason she took me is because I have an interest in church, quote me.
If I had to go to a group home then so be it, but now that I'm here I don't want to lose what I have. The problem with group homes is that they occupy too many people. Just imagine what its like to be living with 5-9 teenage girls mixed in with 3 or 4 tired, angry under-payed, overworked staff members (that switch out 3 times a day) all under the same roof. It's not pretty. There's ALWAYS fights, there's ALWAYS drama, ALWAYS something weather it be someone running away, two or more girls not getting along or a staff member not doing their job, or overstepping boundaries; there is constant stress. All. The. Time.
For someone who likes solitude, quietness, this kind of environment is- it's just horrible. It's already bad enough but then mix in someone who can't handle that kind of lifestyle and it can worsen their mental health, it can lead to self harm, suicidal ideations or worse.
Once upon a time I used to be able to handle group homes, I just moved along when the drama happened, it was frustrating definitely (not just for me but for everyone), but it wasn't unbearable. But then I moved... And I moved again. And again. Then I started getting more fed up with it, then I started breaking down more easily, and self harmed, attempted suicide. I started to runaway, and use drugs... And every time I moved the staffs/therapists/supervisors seemed to care less and less and it was so frustrating. There were so many rules but so much unacceptable behavior slipping right under the rug!
And there was pretty much nothing you could do about it.
Then I got put in that rehabilitation and residential program which was some of the worst times in my life. It was like a bad group home to the max. You thought 9 teenage girls was bad? try 18-29. Together, all fucking day. No phones or internet, you had to be cut off- you couldn't even have a diary or pass notes without it needing to be checked everyday. You can bet there was fights and drama all the time, you couldn't leave the campus at all until months after you arrived. Not even mentioning that there was a strict schedule when to, sleep eat, shower, have mandatory groups that everyone hated. The staff in these places was even worse, virtually EVERYONE hated their job, and the staff in programs are allowed to put there hands on you if deemed necessary, and oh-fucking-boy did they. That power was abused way to fucking often but you want to try to run away? Straight to jail for 90 days just to get sent back and have to start all of your progress over from scratch... or possibly get sent to an even longer program.
These programs are technically 6 months but most people end up there for 8 to 9 months. You are given a set of 5 'levels' or 'phases' that you have to complete in order to get discharged from the program. Some kids are lucky and their insurance runs out and their parents can't pay to keep them there. I wasn't that lucky considering my parent is the state of fucking Florida. I'm grateful to be able to have good insurance and all but fucking hell that place was bad.
Due to having to move to a switch different program 5 months after I was sent to my first program (over something that wasn't my fault, it had to due with medication issues which is a whole other story), I had to start all of my progress over and start the levels off from scratch. I spent 8 months in my second program making 13 months completely cut off from society (did I mention you weren't even allowed to watch the news?). That’s where I spent Christmas, Halloween, Mothers and Fathers day, even my birthday. I was discharged just two fucking days after my birthday. Just two.
Anyways, the point is, I worked really, really hard to prove that I was responsible enough to get a foster home and I did. Even though my roommate is a fucking asswipe dealing with one girl is better than 9. At least I can kind of ignore her. But It's just so hard to act like it's not that bad she’s always
-touching and stealing my belongings
-throwing actual garbage with bloody tampons in it over my ART SUPPLIES
-always calling me disgusting and dirty when this bitches side of the closet -smells like fish
-talking dirty to boys late at night (I don't want to hear about how you want to eat his ass. Stop it. Get some help.)
-using my towel that I bathe with to clean the floor with BLEACH FUCKING BLEACH
-USING MY LOAFERS AND WASH RAGS
-plays loud angry rap music, or movies at full volume all night, usually until 2am, -or really early in the morning to wake me up
WHEN SHE OWNS FUCKING HEADPHONES
-Talks shit about me to everyone that comes through the door of this house (and loudly)
and I’m over here basically kissing her ass because anything is better than those fucking group homes. And I've tried to ask her to stop, or turn down her music, I've tried confronting her- and peacefully and respectfully but she either ignores me or gets violent. I've tried tried telling the foster parent, my therapist and no one is doing anything. I'm backed up into a corner. Like I said before, I'm not scared for my life, this bitch is like 5'3 (no offense to short people) but like I could kick her punk ass any day- and I would if I number 1.) wasn't trying to better myself and number 2.) cared about this home so fucking much.
I just don't know what to do except pray and try to focus on other things. I wish I could just sleep in the living room. I keep breaking my headphones because I have to sleep with rain noises or something to drown out whatever she decides to play. Can you believe she has the audacity to wake me up just tell me to turn down my headphones when she tries to sleep? Like they aren’t even big headphones they are 6 dollar earbuds how loud can they be?! I do every single time though because I'm trying to 'stay blameless in Gods eyes' because I believe in karma and also if I didn't she would probably do something really petty like purposefully play loud music to wake me up even earlier or play it all night so I can't sleep.
It really sucks. I have to live with this person for 110 more days (and, yes, I have it marked on my calendar) but one day she'll be gone and I wont have to deal (or smell) this person again. So hopefully I'll have some more learned patience by then.
The whole reason for me even righting this is because yesterday she asked me to turn the light off in our room when I'm not using it (which is understandable, except you're never home anyways nor do you pay the bills) and of course when she came home the next day I made sure the light was off (did I mention the reason I'm not in the room when she comes home is because I avoid being in there when she is? My foster parent apparently thought that was important enough to report to my therapist like I have problems-But when I tell you whats actually going on you don't do anything about it so like...). Then today when came home I asked her to close the door when she goes in the room, while she was going to the room (because I can still hear whatever she plays from the living room). Guess what? She looked right at me, then walked to the room which is right across the living room and left the door wide open ON PURPOSE. Later on she said that basically it's not her job and that if I want it closed then I need to walk over and close it every time she leaves it open. It pissed me off so much that I just needed to write my feelings out because there isn't anything else I can do about it. Maybe when I'm older I'll look back on this and think 'wow look how strong you are now' and hopefully by then I'll be in a position where if someone is being an outright dick I can punch the shit out of them on the spot- I mean deal with them professionally.
just 110 more days Jasmine, you can do it. Do it for yourself girl do it for your boo thang
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Can you do small introductions on each loona member? Or i mean not all of them if u dont want ik theres like 27 of them but just little descriptions of what u think of em would be cute
a chance? to talk abt the loves of my life?
heejin: you knwo that friend who like if u fuck around during the school yr and need someone to help u out w notes and getting yourself together bc u know shes always on top of her game? thats heejin. girly is an all rounder tbh she can sing dance and as much as ppl like 2 clown her for her rapping shes really not all that bad. LIKE shes just so versatile. she showed that thru mixnine which lol i didnt watch besides cuts but if u watch her performing on there and then see her performing with loona 1/3 it’s like complete opposites but she manages to shine no matter what like it’s effortless for her. shes such a sweet girl too i really do feel like theres a reason she was picked to go first bc she has such a likeable personality. shes funny, hardworking, humble (but not to the point to where she downplays her worth), and just seems like a real ride or die type of friend
hyunjin: MY BABY i hav such a soft spot for hyunjin and it’s hard not to??? she comes across as a little quiet at first and she acts like she doesnt care but she does u know she does shes not fooling anyone idc how many times shes told yeojin 2 shut up on camera i know she’d be one of the first if not THE first girl 2 be by her side (and any members side) if some shit went down. shes such a determined little thing too and when she has her eyes on something she goes for it no thinking abt it no questions asked she just does what she wants and thats something so impressive for a girl her age to be able to do. i feel like shes the type of person to just sit in the back and watch more than participate bc she doesnt mind if the other girls take the spotlight like shes such a chill, laid-back soul. i aspire to be like her. and shes so fucking funny really it’s almost criminal how hard she makes me laugh. ALSO she has the best reactions it’s a disgrace more than anything that i dont hav a folder of just her making stupid faces
haseul: the absolute love of my life? THE jo haseul?? theres a reason shes the member i latched onto the most at the beginning and ultimately kinda the member that tied me down to loona for good. like i was onboard w them from the get but it’s her that sealed the deal. i dont joke when i say she really is their guardian angel and no matter what u think of her in the comparison to the other girls u cant deny the fact that shes born leader material. she makes the other girls feel good and at-ease yknow. like she was always around vivi in the 1/3 loona tvs and u could tell it was like 2nd nature to her being by her side as vivi navigated her way through a country and language she wasnt all too familiar with. and like w/ yves for another example like yves if all facts check out was only w/ bbc for a three week period before they debuted her so obviously she wasnt familiar with any of the girls which is why she was so awkward at first. but haseul? bless her soul she did all that she could to make her feel at home. and she has such a beautiful voice i feel like not enough ppl praise her for it. also fuck yg for making her feel bad during mixnine she deserves the world and he can suck my big toe
yeojin: miss thang miss thang. what 2 say what 2 say. first things first shes a trooper. shes a baby i mean a lot of them are babies but yeojin is an actual baby baby i almost fainted when i learned how old she is. but despite her age shes so firm yknow. when shes doing things she wants to do them right to the best of her abilities and shes always striving to be better which is so admirable bc for me personally at that age i was a goddamn mess i couldnt be doing and juggling even a third of the shit she does. and shes right next to hyunjin when it comes to making me laugh shes just so loud and full of energy even 2 the point where i get tired watching her and im loud and full of energy but her being loud and being full of energy kicks my being loud and being full of energy in the ass. if any of that made sense. but theres never a dry eye in sight when shes in the room and u can tell shes such a joy 2 be around as much shit as the other girls give her lol i just feel real protective of her bc shes just so full of life and laughter and i just want her to be out here living her best life
vivi: it needs 2 be said that i have such high respect for any kpop idol who’s from another country bc theres just so much thats going against them. miss vivi is away from home away from her comfort space away from her friends and family away from a place where she can speak proficiently and fluently bc shes struggling to learn a new language and?? on top of that shes doing all the other standard idol stuff. thats some tough shit thats some scary shit but she takes it all on with a brave face and an open mind. and being able to slowly watch her build up more confidence in the language and basically everything else has been such an honor. like when im out here on my weak shit feeling sorry for myself i gotta think 2 myself what would miss vivi do? how would miss vivi tackle this? i lov this girl honestly i would die for her she does so much and i feel like not all of it is fully appreciated but she’ll have her moment i know she will and it’ll only be a matter of time before ppl see how amazing she is
kim lip: giiiiiiiiirl. lip is such a strong person. like in all aspects. shes crazy talented it’s a little scary to think abt how much she’ll grow once they properly debut as a group and she gets more experience bc?? she just has so much going for her. her charisma is off the charts she can easily pull a crowd if her solo being a real big jumping point in spreading the loona name says anything at all. and shes such a good pick for the oec leader she definitely has those vibes like u just cant help but listen to her regardless of whatever bullshit she says and she says a lot of bullshit but do i liv by that bullshit and eat it up like shes spouting out the new testament u can bet ur ass i do. lip is definitely one of those girls that u cant help but be drawn to like u just want 2 be her bff bc once u remove her from the stage she has such girl next door vibes i feel like she’d be the type of girl u see in the club and u make small talk by the bar bc u made eye contact by accident and all of the sudden before u know it youve spent ur whole night w her and u hav her phone number and plans to meet up next week bc shes so friendly
jinsoul: i make fun of her a lot. but w good reason: shes easy 2 make fun of. shes so quirky but not in the ironic way like shes really quirky and a bit of a walking disaster but it’s charming and she makes it work. even if shes not ur fav? shes still? kinda ur fav? even if u dont know it? if i made a list of some of my fav loona moments i assure u she’d be included in about 80% of it like shes such a staple to the group i really cant imagine her not being w them i mean i cant imagine the group w/o any of them but jinsoul especially. sometimes i watch loona vids knowing good and damn well shes not gonna be in them but i still end up thinking where is jinsoul?? bc not 2 speak for everybody (i will tho) but no one can get enough jinsoul. also her voice? i love it it’s one of my favs in not only loona but kpop in general. both speaking-wise and singing-wise. it’s just so pretty i really did astral project the first time i heard sitr & love letter. true out of body experiences 10/10 would recommend the yelp reviews are in shes 100% worth It. what is the It shes worth? idk but whatever It is .. shes worth It.
choerry: i just want her 2 be my little sister wow. miss yerim really has my heart. truly the embodiment of :) . shes so smily and has such a strong energy u cant help but like her. in every loona tv shes in shes making someone laugh or smile and it’s no coinkidink it’s bc shes really just that much of a ray of sunshine and u cant help but fall for her. give her some time i pledge w my life that once they debut she is going 2 shine on variety shows theres no way she wont. she has such good sense and shes so flexible. and if lcm is anything 2 go by shes able to switch it up and kill different concepts and sounds at the drop of a hat. def one to keep ur eye on bc u just know shes gonna go far in the future theres no way she wont she has all the tools in her arsenal to make it big no problem. does she resemble the annoying orange? yes and i’ll hate kim lip forever for putting that image in my head but that wont stop her shes truly a force to be reckoned with.
yves: my baby! u didnt hear this from me but i lov her a lot. she was kinda just thrown 2 the wolves w/ her three weeks of training i can only imagine how nerve wracking it must’ve been for her. here is an army of girls bbc has as potential loona members whove been training for years/knew the other girls who were already chosen as loona members/have even gone along for the ride with the chosen loona members to film their mvs and yet shes the one who was picked to be added after three weeks of her being w the company. three weeks !!! thats a lot of pressure but despite that she gave us everything she got. she was real nervous in the beginning anyone could tell when u watched her loona tv arc but she got over it and by the time chuu’s arc rolled around she was joking around w/ the others like it was nothing. shes so funny too but in an awkward way. like she doesnt mean to be but she says and does shit that makes u ?? and u cant help but laugh. her gig with marishe? i have never seen anything funnier like that bitch really took 100+ photos all w the same face and w the same three poses if that’s not talent idk what is. and i dont think it’s been confirmed in writing yet but shes gonna be such a good leader for the eden unit i feel it in my bones
chuu: when i tell u my heart has skipped a beat over this girl. im not saying it 2 be dramatic im deadass. my heart has skipped a beat multiple times watching her whether it be a fancam or a loona tv or even a selfie. i’ve watched that little instagram update of her in her pig onesie more times than i want 2 disclose. her voice???? oh my god im in love with it. shes such a strong singer like STRONG and u can hear that in heart attack and girl’s talk and see saw but if u listen to her covers shes done before being introduced as a member it’s like !!!!! wow. and she makes a lot of noises. like just incoherent sounds and its so cute i could cry. like i dont have the attention span 2 sit and watch a vlive if it’s not subbed … but i’d do it for her just bc i love hearing her talk i love her voice on any and all levels u could love someones voice. and all her little mannerisms are adorable and this could really turn into me typing a whole mla formatted essay on how i find her 2 be one of the cutest girls in the world but i’ll spare u. and ofc shes not just cute like i said before this girl is talented and i cant wait for loona to grow as a group so she can be on bigger and bigger platforms for more and more ppl to hear her sing bc thats just how it should be
gowon: i lov her i lov her i lov her!! i’d do just about anything for this girl if she asked but i feel like regardless of who u are u wouldnt be able to refuse her even if u wanted to. i latch onto every word she says everything she says is gold. shes so giggly and a lot of that giggling is bc she probably feels awkward but it’s still real cute. shes also lowkey highkey gotta mouth on her like she’ll really come for ppls throats if she feels it’s necessary and thats beautiful to me. she doesnt get enough credit but as pretty as she is more attention should be focused on her talents bc she is a talented girl. her vocal tone is high and ‘cute’ but i think it melds so well w/ the other girls’ voices and theres a lot of opportunity there if and when they decide to create new sub-units/have more duet songs. and my girl can dance im tired of ppl overlooking her bc?? her pre-debut vids are a little stiff ye but theres so much potential there shes such a gem and i cant wait for her to grow more bc i know theres so much she could be doing w/ what she has
olivia hye: when she said love myself today let u go today? i felt that
#this was just me rambling i know theres no substance at all but here take it its all i can giv u . idk if this is what u were looking for??#U SAID SMALL INTROS IM JUST NOW REALIZING IM SRRY I HOPE THIS IS SMALL ENOUGH FOR U#also yall dont hav 2 read it but please like this i typed too much for it to flop lol
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“The Most Complicated Situation”
My homegirl Michele always tagged along with me to gay clubs and made me go with her to other clubs and parties all the time because she hated it when dudes who weren’t her type would hit on her. Whenever we were together in a place with straight guys, dudes automatically assumed she was with me and rarely approached us to talk to her. The one damn weekend that I was out of town and couldn’t be with her, she ended up meeting Ivan at a club. It wasn’t that I was picky about who got to date my best friend, I just wished she would’ve started talking to someone other than Ivan Campbell. I knew him. No, he wasn’t some player that I’d heard about. I knew Ivan because me and him used to fuck.
He told me that he was bisexual when we first met over a year ago. He also told me that he was equally attracted to men and women. However, I never in a million years would have thought he’d end up talking to my best friend. She talked about him nonstop, too. I knew when Michele really liked a guy and I could tell by the way she talked about Ivan that she was ready to give him some. I was completely torn. Yeah, my loyalty was with her but Ivan was closeted. I couldn’t just out him like that. The fact that he was pretending not to be bothered by it was making me feel some type of way. I had to say something to him.
“I knew you’d come by here one day,” he said to me as I stood in his apartment doorway. “What’s good, Taj?”
“We need to talk,” I said as I barged my way inside his apartment.
“Yo, I didn’t invite you in.”
“I don’t give a fuck. Ivan, I was gonna sit back and not say shit but Michele keeps talking about you and it seems like it’s getting serious.”
He closed the door and told me, “That’s because it is. I really like her.”
“Okay, so you’re going to tell her you’re bisexual”
“What? Hell nah I’m not gonna tell her that. Nobody needs to know that.”
“Ivan, that’s my best friend.”
“So?”
“Just last year me and you were fucking. Nah, we weren’t just fucking; we were exclusively fucking.”
“What does that have to do with me and Michele?”
“Nigga, are you serious? I know my friend and she would want to know if the man she’s involved with is bisexual. She deserves to know the truth.”
Me (Tajir “Taj” Jackson)
“So, just because I’m bi that means I’m gonna cheat on her with random niggas? I guess you’re forgetting that I got tested with you so we could fuck without condoms. You were the only person I fucked for eight months. I don’t cheat. I’m not that kind of dude and you know it.”
“First of all, I was protecting myself. I never have unprotected sex with someone who hasn’t been recently tested. Second of all, me and you had already been fucking with condoms for over a month before that point. Third of all, this has nothing to do with me thinking you’d cheat on her. She has a right to know you’re bi.”
“No, she doesn’t.”
“You’re really going to make me have to tell her, aren’t you?”
“Man, what the fuck is this really about? Huh? You must be big mad because it didn’t work out between us.”
I laughed out loud and exclaimed, “Nigga, please! I was the one who stopped talking to you. The shit we had going wasn’t even that deep. Yeah, we hung out at the mall sometimes and worked out together at the gym but let’s be honest here; it was always about the sex. We’re both vers and love seeing who can fuck the hardest and who can take dick the longest before tapping out. We were friends with benefits and when I realized I wanted more, I walked away from it.”
He stood there looking at me for the longest before saying, “Bruh, it’s time for you to go.”
“I thought I was big mad, though?”
“Get the fuck out my apartment, nigga!”
“No! Either you’re going to tell Michele or I am. I’m not gonna keep lying to my friend for your ass.”
“You want me to come out as bisexual to clear your conscience?”
“I’m not asking you to tell everyone you’re bisexual. I’m telling you to be honest with Michele.”
“Telling me?”
“Yes! I’m not gonna let this go on longer than it has to. She doesn’t have to know me and you fucked last year. I just want her to know that you’re bisexual. If I have to tell her, then I will tell her about us.”
“Yeah, because you’re jealous.”
Ivan Campbell
“No, because I don’t want my friend with a fucking liar! Is that the kind of man you want to be?”
“I’m not lying to her. She doesn’t need to know about us and definitely doesn’t need to know I’m bi. When me and her start having sex, I’m only going to be with her. You know that.”
I shook my head and smiled as I approached him and asked, “Is that right?”
“Yes. I don’t fuck around like that.”
“So, if some dude that you find attractive hits on you, you’ll just ignore him?”
“Yeah.”
I got closer to him and looked him up and down as I asked, “Even if he’s your type?”
“I wouldn’t do that Michele and you know it.”
“Okay. What about if it’s a dude you’ve fucked with already? One that knows how much you like to get freaky after the gym.” I got so close up on him that our bodies touched and asked, “You still like getting freaky when you’re sweaty and funky after the gym, don’t you?”
“What are you doing?”
I grabbed the zipper on his sweatshirt and pulled it down, exposing his shirtless body underneath. I smiled and asked, “You just returned from the gym, didn’t you? I bet you could use some good head and a rim job right about now, huh? I bet them balls and that ass taste good as fuck right about now.” I looked down and when I saw how hard his dick was in his sweatpants, I shouted, “I knew it! I fucking knew it!”
He pushed me and shouted, “Get off of me!”
“Nope, don’t even try that shit. Your dick is hard!” I pointed to the noticeable boner in his sweatpants.
“That don’t mean shit! Don’t even flatter yourself. I don’t want you.”
“And I don’t want you. All I want is for you to be honest with Michele. You have until tonight.”
“Tonight?”
“Yes.”
“She won’t believe you.”
“She will after I show her all of our text messages, including the many dick and ass pics we sent each other over our eight-month sex-only relationship.”
“Fuck you, Tajir. I mean that.” He stepped over to his door and opened it before telling me, “Get the fuck out, now!”
Without saying anything else to him, I left his apartment. As I drove home, I tried to imagine how Michele would react to me telling her that I used to have a thing with Ivan. She’d said on many occasions that she never wanted to be in a relationship with a guy who was on the downlow, but I knew if Ivan was honest with her and told her that he’s bisexual she might give him a chance. I had nothing against them being together because I didn’t have feelings for him like that, but I didn’t want my friend with someone who would keep something that serious from her. I really didn’t want to out Ivan but he was putting me in a difficult position and as I’ve said, my loyalty will always be with my friend.
“That pizza was good,” Michele said to me later that night in her apartment. “Thanks for coming over with it, Taj.”
Michele Gordon
“I owed you,” I said back before taking a sip from my wine. “You paid for the movie we went to see last weekend. So, what else you got planned for tonight?”
“Nothing. You know there’s usually nothing going on during the week.”
“True. How’s everything with Ivan?”
“Taj, that man is damn near perfect. He calls me just to see how my day went and texts me goodnight and good morning every night and morning. I think I’m gonna take it to the next level with him this weekend.”
“You’re gonna give him some?”
“He’s been hinting at it and we’ve already been talking about what we like and don’t like sexually. I honestly think we’re ready for it.” Her phone vibrated and she quickly picked it up. Her eyes lit up as she said, “Ooh, it’s a text from Ivan. Let me see what my boo thang wants.” She read the text and then looked at me and said, “Taj, you gotta go.”
“Why?”
“Ivan is on his way over. I need to go wash my face and put my hair up and…”
“Michele, we need to talk.”
“What? Boy, we’ve already been talking tonight. Thanks for the pizza but you gotta go, baby boy.”
“No, I can’t. I really need to talk to you.”
“About what? Taj, what’s going on?”
“I think it would be best to wait until Ivan gets here.”
“Okay, what does he have to do with anything concerning you?”
“It’s very complicated and after you learn everything, I don’t know if you’ll want to be my friend anymore.”
“Now you’re scaring me.”
“I don’t mean to. I really don’t, Michele. Just know that I’m very, very sorry and I am and always will be your best friend.”
She sat there and looked at me for the longest as we waited for Ivan to arrive. My heart was pounding in my chest and I was extremely stressed during that fifteen-minute wait. When Ivan got there, Michele went to the door and let him in. He stepped inside and when he noticed me sitting on the sofa, he turned back to Michele and asked, “What’s going on?”
“Taj told me he has something to tell me,” she explained. “And that it has something to do with you.”
I stood up and pleaded, “Ivan, do the right thing. Just tell her.”
“Tell me what?”
“Nothing,” Ivan said to her. He then looked at me and said, “Man, you need to leave. You already tried this shit at my apartment.”
“Tried what at your apartment?” Michele asked.
Realizing what path he was about to go down, I went ahead and confessed, “Last year for eight months, me and Ivan had an exclusive friends with benefits relationship. I have been wanting to tell you since you and him met, but I was torn between outing him as bisexual and being loyal to you. Michele, I am sorry. This isn’t how I wanted it to go.”
“Yeah, right,” Ivan snapped. “Your punk ass wanted it to go down like this because you still want me!”
I rolled my eyes and told him, “I actually think you two would look great together. I wanted you to be real with her as proof that you took her feeling seriously. Ivan, this had nothing to do with my nonexistent feelings for you.”
�� “You two had sex?” Michele asked, looking back and forth at us. “Like, y’all were boyfriends?”
“No,” I quickly replied. “We weren’t boyfriends. We just had a sexual agreement. There were no feelings attached. Well, at least on my part.”
“You are so wrong for this shit, man,” Ivan said while shaking his head.
“No, I am not! All you had to do was tell her. If she wanted to break it off with you because of it, then fine. But you owed her the damn truth, Ivan!”
“That’s right,” Michele said. “You should’ve just told me. You’ve been honest with me about so much, but you hide this? Ivan, I don’t care if you’re bisexual.”
When she said that, he looked at her and asked, “You don’t?”
“No. I’m not one of those women who can’t be with a bisexual man or who believes there’s no such thing as bisexual men. I know that it’s possible to be attracted to men and women and I have no problem with that. What I have a problem with is you being with my friend.”
“What?” I asked. “Michele, it wasn’t anything serious. It honestly was just eight months of friends with benefits.”
“I believe you and I believe that it was without strings on your part, Taj.” She looked back at Ivan and said, “I just don’t believe it was for you. The moment Taj said he didn’t have feelings for you, you put your head down. I saw it. I noticed the change in your demeanor.”
“But baby…”
“No, Ivan. I think you’re one of the best guys I’ve ever dated but I can’t be with someone who may have feelings for my best friend. It wouldn’t feel right and I’ll always have to wonder what if.”
“You can trust me,” I told her. “Nothing will ever happen between me and Ivan again.”
“I don’t think there’s anything either of you could say to change my mind. I’m sorry.” She stepped over to Ivan and hugged him before saying, “I wish you the best. I hope we can still be friends.”
“Yeah, me too,” he said back. After their hug, he looked at me and said, “I hope you’re happy.”
“This didn’t have to happen,” I said back.
“Yeah, whatever. I’m out of here.” He turned to the door and left the apartment.
I stepped over to her and offered, “I’m really sorry about this, Michele. I should’ve said something when you first told me about him. I honestly thought he’d tell you at least that he was bi.”
“I feel like I dodged a bullet.”
“You know he wouldn’t have ever cheated on you, right?”
“I know that. But I also know he’s not over you. I could see it in his eyes.”
I laughed and said, “No, that’s not what it is.”
“Tajir, I’m serious. The way he was looking at you and the tone of his voice when he’s talking to you, it’s all there. Ivan has feelings for you.”
I thought she was crazy so I just laughed it off. After apologizing to her a few more times and making plans to hang out that weekend, I left her apartment. When I got downstairs to my car and saw Ivan standing by it, I said, “If you’re planning on hitting me, at least let me take off my shoes because I paid a good grip for them.”
He laughed and told me, “I’m not gonna hit you.”
“Then why are you still here?”
“Because she saw right through me, man. Michele saw right through me.”
“What are you talking about?”
“Look, I wouldn’t have cheated on her because as you know I’m not a cheater. But Michele got it right when she said I have feelings for you. Taj, what we had was based on sex but when you told me you wanted to stop, it did kinda hurt me.”
“It did?”
“Yes.”
“Why didn’t you say anything?”
“Because I have a hard time telling people what I want. I really like Michele, but I do still like you. You said you wanted more and in my head, I told myself I could be more for you. But I didn’t say it. I know I should’ve but I didn’t.”
“Ivan, this has become even more complicated because you’ve been dating my best friend.”
“So, there’s really no chance that me and you can start something?”
“Something like what? Ivan, you’re closeted and I’m not.”
“And you’re not willing to work with me on that? I mean; damn, do you not believe in signs? I had no idea Michele was your best friend and I ended up talking to her. Now, me and you are here in this very moment. This isn’t a coincidence.”
“Ivan, I don’t know. I’m not really into dating closeted bisexual guys. I like to go out on dates, not stay behind closed doors twenty-four/seven.”
“Well, I’m not going to be coming out as bisexual to everyone tomorrow but I can give you my word that I’ll work on it. But I bet that’s not good enough, huh?” He shook his head and leaned against my car before asking, “How about we go out to eat tomorrow night?”
“Are you serious?”
“I’m very serious. I already know what you like sexually and you already know what I like. So, we can talk about other stuff tomorrow.”
“I’d have to talk to Michele to make sure she’d be cool with it, but I don’t see any harm in it.” I smiled and shook my head before asking, “All of this isn’t because I made your dick get hard earlier, is it?”
He laughed and admitted, “You made me horny when you said all that shit about licking my balls and my ass, but it’s not only because of that. I’m mad that it didn’t work out for me and Michele, but I do think it could work out between me and you. So, meet me at the China Express on Calvert Street tomorrow at eight. I’m buying.”
“I’ll see what Michele says. If she feels some type of way about it then I won’t be there.”
He stopped leaning on my car and stepped up to me as he said with a smile on his face, “You’ll be there.” He licked his lips and looked me up and down before heading over to his car and leaving.
I rolled my eyes and laughed as I finally admitted to myself, “Yeah, I’ll be there.”
[Disclaimer]: Pictures used do not reflect the sexuality or personality of people in the pictures. They only serve as visual examples of the characters.
© D.A. Morrison 2017
#D.A. Morrison#short story#drama#dating#romance#love triangle#complicated#bisexuality#Bisexual#closeted#black lgbt#lgbt fiction#semi-non fiction
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Wild thoughts - Jeff Atkins
A/N: this one is based on the song wild thoughts by Rihanna. This one made me go crazy so I hope it has the same effect on you guys. Also big thank you for my girl @mleodicaprios for this awesome idea!
Word count: 1242
Enjoy!xxx
I don’t know if you could take it
Know you wanna see me nakey, nakey, naked
I wanna be your baby, baby, baby
Another weekend, another party, another chance to drink away your sorrows. You were looking forward to this evening in particular. You met someone new in school, his name was Jeff. You accidently walked against him on your way to the classroom. When he gave you your books back he scanned you from head to toe, undressing you with his eyes and a grin appearing on his face. Jeff seemed like a challenge and that was just what you liked.
White girl wasted on that brown liquor
When I get like this I can’t be around you
I’m too lit to dim down a notch
‘Cause I could name some thangs that I’m gon’ do
When you entered Jessica’s house you were feeling pretty confident, you were wearing you favourite high waist jeans where you knew your butt looked great in and an of the shoulder crop top. It was an understatement to tell you were feeling yourself. You went straight to the kitchen and poured yourself an extra strong Bourbon. You felt an arm swing around your shoulder and that pulled you closer. You looked next to you and saw it was Montgomery de la Cruz accompanied by, yes you guessed it right, Jeff Atkins. They were probably both trying to fix a drink. A couple months ago you had had a fling with Montgomery, but it was nothing special. Just a one time thing, you felt like he wanted more than just a nice make out and you didn’t need that.
“Looking good babygirl, any chance I’m getting some of that tonight?” He asked with a smirk. You took a sip of your cup not breaking eye contact with Montgomery before you said:
“I have other plans tonight, sorry babe.” Your gaze switched from Monty to Jeff. You saw a smirk appear on his face before you gave him a wink and walked of. Being around Jeff was dangerous and you liked it, so so much. You entered the living room and decided to join some of your friends who were dancing on a table. You really loved dancing, feeling the music, moving your hips. In between dances you fixed yourself some refills and you were starting to get drunk.
Wild, wild, wild
When I’m with you, all I get is wild thoughts
You were dancing on a great Drake song when you saw Jeff entering the room. His gaze was wondering around the room went he found yours. You were looking him straight in the eyes while you were rolling around your hips in a very sensual way while slightly biting your lower lip. Your imagination was filled with all the wild things you wanted to do to him, and those were pretty nasty things. You couldn’t help but thinks how Jeff looked naked, he probably had and amazing body. You felt yourself getting a little wetter just by the thought of it. Jeff smiled at you while he rubbed the back of his neck, before he walked into the kitchen.
Jeff’s POV
Ayy, I heard that pussy for the taking
I heard it got these other niggas goin’ crazy
Jeff entered the kitchen and needed a drink after what he just witnessed. The girl had some serious moves. He didn’t understand why he didn’t see her before, she was the sexiest girl he ever seen. Honestly he just wanted to walk up to her and dance with her but he couldn’t help but feel a little nervous that he couldn’t handle her that’s why he was fixing some liquor confidence. In a strange way he felt attracted to her from the moment he saw her and this was his chance. He was pouring the liquor in when he overheard a couple guys talking.
“Dude, have you seen y/n dancing? And that ass thoooo”
“I know right, man that chick. She’s that type a girl you can’t fuck, she fucks you.”
“The first one to get her tonight get 50$?”
Throw that ass back, bouquet
Call me and I can get it juicy
I can tell you’re gone off the D'usse
They all started to laugh and joke and that’s when Jeff knew it was time to make his move. He drank the whole thing in once and walked toward his target. When he entered the living room he saw you dancing on your own and damn those boys were right, you had a great ass. You were dancing even more flawless. He walked up to you from the back and whispered in your ear:
“You can’t seduce people like that in public babygirl.” While his movements started to synchronize with yours.
Y/N POV
Careful mama watch what you say
You talking to me like ya new bae
Girl, talking to me like you tryna do things
Jeff was grinding up to you and that was exactly what you wanted. He was whispering some dirty things in your ear that’s how you knew you had him right were you wanted. You teased him extra hard when you suddenly felt his erection against your butt and to be honest it turned you on. You turned around so you were facing him.
“I can help you with your problem down there.” You whispered in his ear before you slowly kissed his earlobe. Jeff took you by your wrist and guided you upstairs. On the way you passed by some guys whose mouth fell agape. Jeff saluted them.
White girl wasted on brown liquor
I probably shouldn’t be around you
‘Cause you get wild, wild, wild
You looking like there’s nothing that you won’t do
Ayy, girl that’s when I told you
When the two of you entered the room Jeff locked it immediately and walked towards you like it was his last mission in his life. He started to kiss you heavily you pulled at his shirt zo he knew he had to take it off. You unbuckled his belt before you pushed him onto the bed. You started to undress very slowly, not breaking eye contact. You walked up to him and set down on his lap.
“No that’s not how we’re going to it, I’m going to fuck you and there’s nothing you can do about it.” Jeff said before turning the both of you around. You were surprised by his dominance, but you liked it.
“Okay daddy.” You moaned out.
Jeff placed you on the side of the bed, your ass facing him. he thrusted into you without warning. You arched your back as far as you could making Jeff moan louder and louder. You never experienced something like this. Jeff made you cum 3 times, nobody ever did that to you. You had to admit the boy had serious skills. When the two of you were finished you both collapsed onto the bed. You took a minute to catch your breath before you started to put your clothes back on.
“If you ever feel like doing this again, call me.” you said with a wink before leaving the room. Normally you weren’t the type to say those things but you knew there weren’t a lot guys that could give you this. When you close the door you hear something from the room.
“Oh I definitely will.” You heard Jeff say.
Hope you liked it! Let me know what you think and thanks for reading xxx
#jeff atkins#jeff atkins imagine#jeff x reader#jeffrey atkins#13 reasons why#13 reasons why imagine#13rw#thirteen reasons why#13reasonswhyimagine#montgomery de la cruz#montgomery de la cruz imagine
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FUCK MY LIFE: WHY I HATE MONDAYS
It’s normally mid to late afternoon on a Sunday when all of a sudden that little timer goes off in your head. ‘Fuck me it’s Monday tomorrow’. Unless you absolutely love your job, or just can’t wait to dump the kids off on someone else after a troublesome weekend, chances are you are just like the rest of us mere mortals and don’t especially love Mondays.
Mondays suck. Tick the box, close the book.
That is why there are so many GIFs and Memes about Mondays because we all hate the beginning of a new week. Five more days of spending time somewhere we don’t especially like, with a bunch of people we may or may not especially like. The only thing we often have in common with them is that we work in the same office and they too fucking hate Monday.
Monday’s are often made worse because most of the ‘Clints’ and ‘Cynthias’ you work with. You know the type: do a chillax Friday also known as ‘working from home’ whilst actually either not doing anything or doing plenty, but nothing relating to work. These corporate clowns are the type who get to Monday and realise that they need their work request to be delivered ‘by the close of play’, even though they have known about it for weeks. And guess what, you are the lucky minion who gets to have your already shitty start to the week dumped on from a great height by one of these Clints.
The thing about Monday is that it is the realisation that your reality is not as good as you hoped it would be. The weekend was either spent getting absolutely shit-faced with your friends, a dirty weekend away with the object of your affection, a camping trip with the family or the quintessential Netflix marathon in your pants covered in a takeaway.
It is and always has been far better than being cooped up in work or doing something because you have a monster mortgage to pay for.
The weekend is the equivalent of day release for the masses who are imprisoned each week for at least four to five days a week in asylums filled with moronic minions acting out all manner of craziness. If you’re lucky, Friday is the transition into your weekend, you may be allowed to wear your own clothes and even kick back a bit, clock off early after a long lunch because all the ‘management’ is pretending to be busy at home. Even though their status is more often than not: ‘offline’ or unreachable.
Think for a second of the Clints in your office. He’s the kind of guy who turns up on a Monday full of stories to rub in your face, just how much better his weekend, no, his life, is than yours. Clint lives for Monday, he has no one else who will talk to him after 5 pm on a Friday, except maybe his mother because she feels obligated to or another bunch of other Clints from some other office.
Or perhaps Cynthia brings you back down to Earth with her tales of woe that just need an X Factor backing track and Samaritans on speed dial for when she’s done. Welcome to Monday, and that is after your shitty commute into the office.
The only good thing that ever happens on a Monday, is a bank holiday and they are best days ever. For the rest of the year, Monday is miserable. It’s confirmation that if there is a God, he fucking hates you because that’s the first day of the rest of your week.
The Monday Phenomenon
It isn’t just the work thang that gets up our nose when it comes to Mondays. Given it is a brand new week, we often set ourselves up for that belief that maybe a new week means a new you. Monday is suddenly a beacon of hope, a change in the grand scheme of things, a time for a change and new dawn.
This euphoric and inspired feeling often doesn’t last long, you are after all diving into a pool of zombie-like miscreants who just want the day to be over. Fuck it, they don’t really want it to start at all. Before long all of your mojo is drowned within a sea of dying souls all just keen to get a coffee fix and find a hiding place until lunch.
How many best intentions start off with a Monday launch?
Most I’d guess, it’s a fresh start; a new week. Time to hit the gym and start eating like a rabbit, having just consumed every last morsel of ‘naughty’ treats over the weekend that may have induced diabetes.
It’s okay though, Monday is here and the new you is going to kick ass like a Marvel superhero. Until of course, the Monday morning meeting sees all of your greatest hopes dashed as the reality of the week ahead drowns out the rays of sunshine with apocalyptic clouds of gloom.
Then Cynthia politely informs you that you are not going to get your expenses paid this month because you didn’t check something on her overly complicated form. It isn’t long before that new you has bent over and allowed Monday to royally roger it for another week. Then you’re off like an angry Gorilla, ploughing a trail through co-workers all the way to the vending machine.
Never use Monday as the day for a fresh start. You will never see a new dawn as long as you follow the first day of the week rule. Quit smoking on the weekend, after a heavy night of debauchery on the town, by lunchtime you’re like the Marlboro Man on crack, chain-smoking your way to lung cancer.
You see, we have been indoctrinated into hating Mondays, from an early age. From double Maths on a Monday at school, all the way through to your shitty 9-5 existence waiting for death somewhere doing something not entirely captured by your job title or paycheck.
Growing up, I loved the cartoon character Garfield and he absolutely hated Mondays too, even though he was a cat and had zero concept of what Mondays meant in reality. Point is, even he knew the drudgery and affliction of Monday-itis.
There are countless songs about how crap Monday is, ironically written and performed by people who probably don’t even work on a Monday because they are too busy coming down from immense highs from the weekend or banging groupies like a bunny with a Duracell battery up their bum.
From the ‘Rainy Days and Mondays’ of The Carpenters, through to The Boomtown Rats ‘I don’t like Mondays’, and ‘Manic Mondays’ of The Bangles. They all caption our pain, whilst churning out huge royalties to these clever folks who wouldn’t know a true Monday if it slapped them in the face. Still, it’s good that they can give us some jingoistic anthems to get us through the fucking day. I am rather partial to some heavy metal or ‘Rage Against The Machine’ whilst simultaneously imagining myself armed with an AK47, creating COD4 carnage, on an epic scale. But, whatever floats your boat I guess.
Managing Monday-itis
That irritating cough or a lousy headache that emerged after 10 pints of Stella and a particularly raucous night of Karaoke classics has lingered throughout the weekend. Monday is coming for you like a Bailiff on commission and all of a sudden you realise, ‘haven’t taken a sick day in a while’. It’s easily done and routinely so.
Before long, Monday-itis will be rightly recognised for the debilitating illness it is. Much like ADHD and all manner of bullshit made-up conditions to justify people’s behaviour, Monday-itis is characterised by a sudden onset phobia to pressing work deadlines that were not met in the previous week. It leads the poor soul inflicted with this heinous curse developing all manner of ‘flu type symptoms’ that means they will be unable to attend work until the aforementioned work problem is resolved.
It doesn’t have to be this way. Chances are that after the self-certification is expired you will return again on a Monday, no doubt with two times the burden of a normal week. This double whammy Monday aka Thundercunt Monday will burn more than Satan’s balls when it comes around. There are other ways to manage the transition.
If your workplace operates a flexible working or agile culture, get your own back on management and make Monday, your work from home day. Technically, you are able to complete your duties and manage incoming calls and emails without anyone being able to micromanage or monitor you doing it. You’ll avoid all the usual office guff from the Clints and Cynthias about their meaningless and made up lives. You can do your work in your pants, or gimp suit for that matter, and no one would be any the wiser.
No commute, which is even better than a commute when the spawn of the planet are on their holidays. You can even reward yourself with a lie in. It’s a nice smooth transition into the work week without all the heaviness and bullshit that comes along.
If you have kids and need to drop the little buggers off at school, see if you can come to an arrangement with a friend or neighbour (preferably one with kids at the same school) to take it turns on alternate Mondays to drop them off.
Plan to do something on a Monday that feels like a reward or is something you actually enjoy. I work from home on a Monday and like to work out. My favourite day is Push Day, so, I save this for lunchtime on, and you guessed it: a Monday. Half the day has gone, and now I’m feeling pretty awesome. Before you know it, the end is near and you have escaped another wretched start to the week.
Then when the work day is done, because you don’t feel quite as pissed off as you normally do, you might even plan something fun for the evening. A few drinks, a takeaway, or back on to the Netflix marathon you began the previous weekend.
Over time, you will begin to find that Mondays are not so bad after all. Then, when you apply some of the same thinking to other days in the week and get a bit of a balance to life you’ll feel like a completely different person. Then when you are in work and only putting up with the nonsense a few days a week, you will not feel quite as drained. Cynthia will be miserable as sin, but she hasn’t got any friends anyway. This is actually you showing compassion to the silly sausage and creating space in her life to make some better decisions.
If working from home is not an option, create a Monday game in the office and get your co-workers to join in. Perhaps set up a sweepstake of Clint Bullshit Bingo, with the winner claiming the pot based on whatever nonsensical shit they correctly predict Clint spouting off about when he does his Monday monologue. You could also, inject some fun, by stealing items off of Cynthia’s desk and placing them all around the office creating a faux treasure hunt that means she’ll be occupied all day so as not to kill your Monday mojo.
If it is truly unbearable, set up an email or Whatsapp group and invite all your fellow Monday-itis sufferers to it and bombard each other with humorous messages and content to get the laughter flowing.
Book out your diary every Monday with a two hour private and busy meeting that on your monitor reads ‘Fuck all’. This should give you ample time to adjust to the new reality of the work week without allowing the more moronic minions the chance to rape your soul like a Harry Potter Dementor.
Try doing a gratitude journal for the first time, but do this as though you are coming from the perspective of how much worse your life could be if you were, say: a Clint or a Cynthia. Be careful not to type this out in plain view of said Dementors though, Mondays with an HR meeting on office bullying probably wouldn’t be a great start to the work week. Alternatively, you could write a long list of things you could be doing had you not been stupid enough to have children.
No More Manic Mondays
Too often the wonderful weekend has been cut short by the early onset of Monday-itis and the anxiety that its symptoms bring. The transition into another week in your miserable existence is ramped up tenfold on a Sunday evening and several times higher the following morning.
The stress of another work week Monday takes its toll on your soul. The pressure of a new beginning or the familiar anxiety of yet another week afflicts millions every single week. Then like the extras in The Walking Dead, we all descend to our paycheck prisons or weekly workhouses to be used and abused for another week. The only tool we previously had in our arsenal is the hope that either a bus would knock us down before we got there, or that we could sleepwalk through to Friday.
The truth is, Monday is just like any other day, the stigma attached to it is largely because we have to end something fun or something we chose to do (the weekend or week off) for something we have to do (to pay for the shit we do on said weekend or weeks off).
How we navigate this transition from awesome back to mundane is entirely down to our ingenuity and individual approach. Manic Mondays are often due to lazy arse Fridays, so as long as you play hard through the week and get sufficient stuff done then you can reward yourself with a stellar weekend of fun.
Monday is the first work day, so anyone who plans a Monday morning meeting at 9 am is probably worth avoiding in or out of work. These people tend to be the types who book the 4 pm slot on a Friday too. That’s classic Clint right there.
Making your transition into the work week should be your number one goal to stave off that Sunday evening bah-humbug feeling. To end the sleepless night before the Monday morning rush, find a more flexible approach: start later after a trip to the gym, start earlier and plan an evening event to look forward to, or work from home to avoid all those competitive conversations about who has the best/worst life of all.
Normally, once you have gotten past the mid-point of the day, you are back in work mode, so make sure you manage your diary and time in a way that is both rewarding and low pressure (where possible).
The week is a marathon, not a sprint, so getting everything done on a Monday morning just isn’t going to happen. This is especially true after a week or so off. Book out the morning for just acclimatising back to work, finding out who fucked up whilst you were away, flaunting your tan lines to colleagues and just ‘catching up’ with corporate bullshit life.
Saving favoured activities that motivate you and booking them into a Monday will also make it less likely that you succumb to the temptation to do a Monday-itis phone in.
Never start a new thing (diet, exercise routine, quitting a bad habit, etc) on a Monday as the pressure of the day makes it highly likely that you’ll get triggered and fall into the old pattern. You’ll end up hating yourself even more than you already did. And if you must, be sure to allow yourself a restart on a Tuesday or at some later point in the week. Mondays are hard enough.
Injecting fun shouldn’t be limited to a Monday, but may prove incredibly helpful in the navigation of this troublesome day. The stressors that trigger the Monday Blues, like those annoying co-workers you have imagined executing in multiple ways in your head, should be reframed within this humorous approach. Nullifying them from the monstrous problems they cause to realise the ant-like irritants that they really are.
When they start to get under your skin and you are close to a full-on transformation into the Incredible Hulk, just ask yourself what they didn’t get up to on the weekend. In all in all likelihood, work is the only place where anyone shows them a modicum of emotion, try to be gentle with them and feel free to fuck with them a bit, until they learn the error of their ways.
By the time you are done for the day, you’ll realise that Mondays can be okay. The things that worked for you can be applied throughout the week. Make life a bit more bearable and to give your hopes and dreams of becoming something better a real chance. Mondays do not have to suck. They just need to be managed.
The best bit about getting over your phobia of Monday is that your weekends tend to get longer. That period after tea on a Sunday creates an opening for something fun. If you’ve successfully made the work arena a little bit less like a prison, you might find that by Friday the ease down into the weekend is smooth and all things are in place for a nice restart come the following week.
If you’re a Clint or Cynthia and you’re reading this. Stop booking meetings on a Monday morning. While you are at it, try to make friends and then you’ll have some real experiences to share with, rather than vomit over, your colleagues the next Monday. Life is hard enough without Monday being a total motherfucker. So stop being you, and strive to be awesome.
Make Monday the new fun day.
‘Dear Monday, I want to break up. I’m seeing Tuesday and dreaming about Friday. Sincerely, it’s not me, it’s you’ - Anon
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A Dance with Fan Fic Ask Round Ups
I have a confession: I was a little terrified that everyone would be mad at me for going to a cliff hanger with the groom storming out to a pretty unrelated chapter involving middle-aged ladies and repression, not least because it took me two months to get it out. But the feedback on this chapter has been so sweet. Thank you.
Now that the next chapter is out, I’ve finally decided to catch up on all of these….
Anonymous said:
I don't think your buying into stereotypes with your dornish women, they aren't all identikit, they're all just reflective of a place which expects women to be a bit more involved in everything. From outside of Dorne you've got Sarra who was assertive in her own way by telling eliott how to behave with his new wife, it was a gentle type of assertiveness but she took control and had that conversation no matter how awkward. Lady Darklyn too certainly seems not lacking in confidence.
Well, good. I sometimes worry about women who are less assertive and how they cope in this society. With Sarra, what I was more going for was more encouraging her son to be gently assertive about his marital rape license.
Anonymous said:
Elliot, you are my sonion, and I understand that you're upset, but you're acting like an asshole. Stop being an asshole.
I’ll pass this on, but I’m not sure El will be able to hear me over the sound of his raging hangover right now.
Anonymous said:
Your fic is so much fun, I find myself going yeah oh poor Eliott's he's going to marry a whore, and then im like, wait what the fuck corret man. I get so into each chapter that by the end of it im agreeing with these twits. that's when I know im hooked and your good at your thang.
Thank you? POV bias is a bitch, though.
Corret has a very logical brain, and he’s very normative. He just doesn’t question the assumptions of his society. And he didn’t say Loree was a “whore”! He said she was “little better” than one. Big difference, dude!
Anonymous said:
A few ask rounds ups ago, someone mentioned Dylan having high hopes that Ellaria Uller will get a prominent job in KL, oh my god I need this. I need Corret to just have no clue what going on and why is buddy would want such a thing when he has a second son to put those hopes onto. Maybe Dylan thinks Ellaria is his cleverest kid or something and he's excited of her progress report from the water gardens/tutors at Hellholt or something, and Corret is just so uncomprehending.
Lil’ Ellaria aces all the math tests.
I can’t think of any reason why Dylan would stop hanging out with his old buddy Corret or why he wouldn’t be one of the famous Dornish Proud Papas.
Anonymous said:
Hey my Jeyne Swann love is perfectly reasonable and normal!!! Sorta. I just feel bad for her she went to a place where she could have done anything (within reason) and shiteros had screwed up her view of herself and marriage and life so much that she was never able to take even one second of advantage of it then she got a disgusting growth in her body and died. I feel much better now and zen knowing that she as some fond times with her girls to give her happy memories as she wasted away.
I’m sure she thought she was the luckiest woman in the world.
Anonymous said:
I kind of feel sorry for eliott and how unprepared he is for the world he's walked into. I mean there are limits to my sympathy given his attitude and his opinion on stuff, but if someone (ADWIN!!!!) had just given him a few more facts from the start or they'd journeyed through Blackmont and he'd been able to see Meria and Simon and have a little chat with him, it wouldn't have fixed everything but he'd have at least been more like a good little scout and been (a bit) prepared.
I mean, Adwin threw a pile of books at him. Was that not enough?
Eliott’s problem is sometimes connecting theoretical knowledge to the real world. He can know things about Dornish culture, or even that some historical Princess So-and-So had half a dozen paramours in her life or something, and still not have it occur to him that it would apply in this situation.
Anonymous said:
Something I sort of noticed as the Rowan caravan was journeying was they never stayed anywhere where there was a marriage like Eliott was about to enter into. Manwoody, Fowler and Vaith there is no spouse in residence, Allyrion the dude is the Lord, so everywhere they went of the big houses he's not getting the chance to really see the role he'd have which probably keeps the shackles on for even longer.
I suppose that’s true, I didn’t plan it or anything. But the most important thing keep the shackles on is Eliott and his Brain Virgin. I’m not sure if swinging by Sandstone would have helped him much except maybe that he would think that Allin ain’t a real man or something.
Anonymous said:
Given everything that happened between AWiS and the present, would it be fair to say that Edgar Yronwood was right, or at least had a point when he said that the Martells trying to win the favour of the Northerners wouldn't yield the result they wanted? A bit rich coming from the man who backed the Blackfyres, but still...
Well… ask Elia how it all worked out. Though, to be fair, the amount of autonomy they seemed to have under Robert is a little ridiculous.
Anonymous said:
I'm excited and sad for the upcoming Alysanne chapter. Excited because she's a brilliantly written character; sad because she's spent her whole life getting shit on and thanks to patriarchy brain, thinks it's all her fault. Which makes me sad.
I feel guilt about how long it took me to get this round-up out. Like, that was two chapters ago… I hope it lived up to your expectations.
Anonymous said:
On your favourite subject of Jeyne Swann, whats the age gap between her two girls? did Allyster try and get two kids on her relatively quick so they'd be able to stop making appointments? Must have been a bit weird for her not to have anyone pushing for the her to birth the prodigal penis, even with huge amounts of pb that must have been kinda nice, even if she did probably think she'd failed or some crazy shit like that.
The gap between them is maybe five years or so, and Jeyne (the younger) didn’t marry as early as Rebanna did, so her kids are quite a bit younger than Maron. There may have been some infant mortality between them, or even after as well. I’m not sure, I don’t want to pile on. Allyster stopped making appointments because he could tell how not into it she was, and that got weird after ten years.
Anonymous said:
why is alyse ladybright not tagged for your fic? she appears plenty and yet the poor Lady doesn't get a tag.
Ha. I think I only tagged people who already had tags.
Anonymous said:
Is Lewyn's paramour someone we've already met in a AWiS? Jennelyn Sand mayhaps?
No and no.
Anonymous said:
If Casson had married Loreza would that mean that Ellaria would have been Lady Vaith one day?
I suppose so. Unless it prompted Vanella to bite the bullet and get hitched.
Anonymous said:
Speaking of trophy consort, I always thought he'd be younger but not young enough to be her son. More in the vain in your fic verse of Emerik Qorgyle or Trebor Jordayne if he wasn't heir. that way he's very much a man grown when they marry and has plenty of life experience so he has something to offer as a ocassional advisor. But he's still a younger hottie too.
Okay.
Anonymous said:
I like owain a lot. He seems like a real good guy. Plus he's got Tully links too which makes him dynastically well linked along with his Reacher and married Martell links. Alyse is going to be all over that, but I imagine there might be a queue.
Owain is the pragmatic one. Marq is a mini-Corret with all his ISTJ-ness. Lymen is the racist one. Jon the Green is also there. Maybe he’s the funny one.
Yeah, Eliott’s peeps aren’t as cool as Loree’s.
Anonymous said:
I have sympathy for Jeyne Swann lover anon because I'm actually drawn to your background characters more than your POV's. I like all your POV choices and they're a nice spread but its the unknown with the background characters that interests me. I like Deria, Deneza is someone I really wish for more of, Adwin's a professor in another life, Owain is just perfect, Sarra/Aelora are just the cutest, I need more Dylan, Simon Leygood's life intrigues me even if he's only a name, Alyse is a dream.
Alyse has dreams.
Anonymous said:
How do Rebanna and Allyster feel about the fact that Maron is almost 30 and not married? I get that the Dornish don't push marriage as hard as some, but they still do succession through bloodlines. Would the fact that he hasn't married make them question if he's responsible enough to rule Wyl?
Well, he had his heart broken once.
They’re probably in Wyl right now talking about how they’ll totally bring it up as soon as he hits thirty. Also, keep reading.
Anonymous said:
Does Lenelle have ladies-in-waiting, or is that a right reserved for Martells proper? Similarly, does Jenny have ladies, or is her status low enough, and scandal that she caused great enough, that no knight or lord wants his daughters to serve her?
Lenelle does have ladies of her own, I just haven’t really thought about who they might be or had cause to mention them. Emelyn was one, once upon a time.
I have no clue about Jenny. She would probably ditch them if she did have them.
Anonymous said:
This is a bit of a random comment but I loved your response to my asking about where the Fossoways were. It just highlights how different peoples minds work. once I read who the groom was on the Dramatis personae my first thought was who were his cousins on the other side of his family and thought they must be young or female for him not to have any of them as his little group of companions. When I saw none were there I just immediately jumped to conspiracy theories like a normal person...
I mean, we can weave a tale about how Sarra doesn’t get on with her family ever since they found out that she doesn’t like apple pie, or something.
Anonymous said:
Besides GRRM, who would you say the biggest influences on your writing are?
Jane Austen is kind of obvious. Especially in the dialogue, probably.
Actually, Martin doesn’t influence my style nearly as much as I would like him to. My descriptive passage are always very, like, functional.
Anonymous said:
Whether or not it occurs in on page, I'd imagine that, at some point during the events of AWiS, some Reach Bros got drunk and decided to loudly sing The Dornishman's Wife. They couldn't understand why their Dornish hosts didn't find the song amusing.
I think their Dornish hosts just find it dumb. And it will be quite the wedding feast, I’m sure. Literal wine fountains.
Anonymous said:
Will AWiS feature anything like Martin's weirder, trippier passages? Either a character having a fever dream or ingesting a hallucinogen of some sort?
I’m not sure if I’m up for that. I did once write a dream for Eglies, though.
I’m not sure which pov character is most likely to eat a magic mushroom. Probably Ormond.
Anonymous said:
Aside from Loreza being dornish and set to be ruling Princess of Dorne, I can't help but feel like anther problem Eliott may encounter with her is she's very much a grown woman. Whereas there seems to be so many really young brides elsewhere, some criminally young but even 19 year olds like Olenna haven't really lived, they're in a lot of ways children in women's bodies due to the way they get infantilized. Loreza isn't any of that and that is a new experience even before the political stuff.
I think that’s quite insightful. And Loree has this confidence about her sexuality that I don’t think Eliott will know what to do with.
Anonymous said:
Love Deria, she sounds like she has a bed warmer and wants to find someone for her new friend, lol.
Deria’s a classy lady. She doesn’t kiss and tell.
Anonymous said:
I volunteer to kill Tybutthole, it would be my pleasure, I'd even pay you for the honour. As realistic it is, I hope there can be something positive to come out of this even if it only sadly Marigold getting out.
I suppose that all depends on how you define “positive outcome”. As I believe I’ve said before, this society is tailor made for men like Tybutt, but I think Alysanne is starting to realize that that may be problematic, so I would say not all hope is lost.
Anonymous said:
Princess Trystana and Lord Gargalen totally seem like marriage goals for the setting. they've found a way to function as a couple, communicate and raise their kids together with respect and support.
I mean, maybe they seem like that now. You should have seen them in the old days.
Anonymous said:
Daenella seems kind of Targ to me, like she inherit all the privilege like a Martell has but without any of the dutiful nature that goes with it, which seems Targ-ey. By the time she was born her dad was gone/or almost, so her mother had to help Rhodryn in his new role, and child bearing problems and grieve and adapt so Daenella probably just got to have all the fun of being born into such great position but without any of the lessons in duty.
All the best royal families have that “only two kinds” thing and in the Martells’ case it the whole “hot and cold” thing I made up for The Princess and the Septa. It was kind of, like, institutionalizing the contrast between Doran and Oberyn, (a contrast so obvious that even GoT noticed it...) And Daenella is kind of this generation’s Oberyn. Though, so is Arion, so…
But, of course, the sharp contrast is also an oversimplification. Like, which one is Lewyn, for example?
Anonymous said:
Linette!!! nice to hear about her a bit. I wonder if a tiny bit of Duran's appeal to Alysanne, as she gets to know him better, if his obvious pride in his daughters, and the fact he's ''satisfied'' with them.
Tiny bit?
Linette’s a pro. She has charts.
Anonymous said:
Daenella and Trystana seem like they just don't understand each other at all. they try in their own ways to connect but they're so different that the other just doesn't see these overtures as being meant to be kind or loving. Little Trystana might momentarily unite them when she's probably likely to be born at the most inopportune time. They're sisters, they clearly care for one another they just have no clue how to communicate with each other.
Anonymous said:
The princess of the breeze seems to bring the worst out of her sister. I think Trystana just has no idea how to relate to her, and as she's so used to being in control and knowing what she's doing she can't quite function as she wants to around her sister and they just end up having this escalating back and forth, that Trystana seems to know if ridiculous but can't quite break the cycle.
Deanella always has the best intentions for things, but she just gets overwhelmed by her emotions and can’t focus on things enough to actually follow through. She wants to be a good mother and a good sister but… omg, that dog has a fluffy tail! No one sane would trust her with any actual responsibilities.
And Trystana is very dutiful, but she also wants to make sure everyone knows how dutiful she is. Specifically that she’s more dutiful than Daenella. That being said, she would drop everything to help her sister in a crisis, even after the twentieth time.
Anonymous said:
Whilst I'm enjoying the little romance Alysanne has going on, I'm particularly enjoying her simple joy at having people notice her and making a few new friendships and how she just seems to spill to these people because she's probably never had anyone to really talk to for years aside from her daughter, and you can't tell you child any of this sort of stuff. I could see her and Deria becoming great friends, and Trystana too if Alysanne's world continues to open up.
Female friendships are important for women.
Anonymous said:
Someone needs to engineer ''accidents'' for certain assholes so that Daisy and Marigold can be left the fuck alone.
Anonymous said:
LMAO, Alysanne thought she was in for an earful and instead she was being set up with her dreamboat again. Honestly when this is all over however it goes or doesn't go she's going to need a good neck massage from all the whiplash she's getting trying to get her head around all these dornish ways.
Those mysterious Dornish ways of, like, consent and stuff.
Anonymous said:
On a scale of 1-10, how concerned should we be for Alysanne's safety? Tybutt doesn't seem the type to take his wife showing agency lying down.
If Tybutt gets on Trystana’s wrong side you should be more concerned for his safety.
Anonymous said:
Trystana girl, you looked in the mirror lately, Daenerys is wilful? lol. Maybe their wilfulness comes out in different ways but they've both got bucket loads of it. I did enjoy her chat with Alysanne in general though, she likes her husband and wants him to have some happiness and joy. the fact the lady he likes is the biggest sweetheart that ever sweethearted is a big bonus though.
How dare you! Dany is nothing at all like Trystana!
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