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mandomover · 11 months

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The Rookie

Chapter Twenty - Dinner date, Javi’s late

You get a much deserved chance to relax and catch up with Murphy, Connie and Javi.

Warnings: swearing, smoking, drinking, angsty feelings

Words: 2450

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A/N: ok I’m sorry it’s gotten a bit shit. It trailed off for a bit and I lost the way of it so some of it reads a bit too fillery but I swear I have a game plan! I still love Rookie and this version of soft Javi but bare with me- I’m a few weeks off popping a human out, I’m ill af with sinus and chest infections and I’m feeling super sorry for myself so hang tight. I’ll get back to it soon I swear 💕

You settle back in your chair, setting the knife and fork side by side on the dinner plate, nursing your full belly with a groan.

“Jesus Connie, that was amazing!”

“Thanks,” she grins.

“Just one of the many reasons I married this wonderful lady,” Murphy pipes up, shoveling another forkful of noodles into his mouth.

“Oh stop it,” she beams, looking bashful.

“Yeah, truly delicious Con,” Javi mumbles after swallowing his mouthful.

You were so hungry you shoved your food in like you hadn’t eaten in days, only speaking really once you finished, allowing Connie and Murphy to carry the conversation, mostly about Olivia and how she was settling into her new home, which apparently was like a duck to water.

“Oh I’ll clear these then we can get dessert sorted, it’s getting late,” Connie exclaims, pushing back from the table and reaching for your empty plate.

“Yeah sorry Con, meeting ran a little over.”

“Where was your meeting?” you ask suspiciously.

“Downtown.”

“Who was there?”

“Informants.”

“What kind of informants?” You knew fine rightly the kind of informants Javier Peña used to keep on a regular basis and while he hadn’t mentioned any of them recently, that didn’t mean he wasn’t still receiving information from them.

“None that concern you.” He gave your thigh a squeeze under the table that implied ‘leave it’ but he left his warm palm on your leg so you didn’t take too much offense by his tone of voice. While it should have given you goosebumps to be shot down, it made you feel protected, and safe, even though being in the Murphy’s place made you feel just as safe as being anywhere else with Javi. But it was still a strange sensation, Javi’s calloused hand on your denim clad leg. Comfortable; like everything about Javi, but dangerous in a way that made your stomach clench in excitement.

You looked at the clock on the wall, noting that it was well past eleven. Javi wasn’t kidding when he said he’d be a little late, but you still weren’t convinced by his noncommittal answers.

Connie tried to balance a plate and crockery together but they slipped and Murphy’s hand shot out to catch a falling knife from the plate.

“Here let me help,” you said, jumping up from your seat and grabbing the most haphazard looking items off Connie.

You followed her into the kitchen, as Javi rose from the table pulling his cigarettes out of his pocket, taking himself out to the balcony for a smoke, and you set the dishes into the sink before moving to the fridge and lifting out a fresh beer. You chugged the neck before leaning back against the counter, watching Connie as she bustled around the kitchen preparing dessert.

“How are you and Javi?”

“Yeah, good thanks. We’ve got a good routine and it works, gets the best out of us work wise.”

“Mm I bet. How are the living arrangements?”

“The living arrangements?”

“You and Javi living together.”

“Oh we’re not-“

“I take Olivia out for a walk at seven every morning. Don’t act like I don’t see you coming out of his, wearing his sweats and shirts.”

Your face flushed as you splutter out a response.

“Oh well, it’s just a handy arrangement, I don’t think-“

“I didn’t think anything of it, I’m obviously not privy to the workplace drama or romances. But then Steve saw one morning and if he noticed something and it got his tail wagging then I knew something must be going on.”

“There’s nothing happening I swear. I would tell you. He’s helping me out. I-“

You stop, afraid that by admitting out loud to someone else what’s been happening, it might make the reasons for it more concrete and give your brain a reason to do it again.

“I had a panic attack. And it wasn’t the first time. I haven’t had one while in Columbia but it was a bad one and Murphy and Javi were there to witness it after a chase, and Javi helped me out of it. So he’s just keeping an eye on me. Making sure I’m OK.”

Connie sets the knife she was using to cut the cheesecake down and turns to envelope you in a tight embrace.

“Oh honey, I’m so sorry! I didn’t know.”

“It’s OK,” you shrug, a little embarrassed. “It’s just nice I guess to not have to worry as much when I’m with Javi. I mean don’t get me wrong, it’s hella convenient, but I feel like I won’t have another one if I’m with him and I can’t lose that focus right now. If I start down that road again and someone else finds out, I’ll get pulled from this mission. Can’t have a basket case on the payroll can you?”

You take another swig, looking at your feet while your face reddens deeper and Connie turns back to the dessert, giving you some privacy while she plates the food.

“Why do you think being with Javi will stop you having another one?”

“I just… I feel like…”

You trail off, not sure how to put into words the feelings being in Javi’s presence gives you. You feel like you belong there, right by his side. He’s a dick to a lot of people but with you he’s soft and genuine and vulnerable and you’re the same with him, and very rarely in this lifetime have you known someone who can evoke those feelings from within you. You feel safe; like you know he’s a good shot if it came down to it, but you feel protected, safe from the outside world be it physical damage or mental damage or anything that could make you feel sad or hurt. Spending every moment with him the past while has crippled you though, because the rare moments you’re apart, it hurts you to watch him go and you feel like a part of you is missing.

“Do you like him?”

“Course I do. Wouldn’t spend so much time with him if I didn’t.”

“You know what I mean,” she raises an eyebrow at you skeptically and crosses her arms expectantly, waiting for the truth.

“Fuck, I don’t know. I just know I can’t be away from him.”

Connie purses her lips in thought before turning back to the dessert.

“I haven’t seen Javi like this before. I mean, he’s always quiet and I know he’s a hard shell to crack, but Steve talks about this lonely hardass ‘Bogotá Batchelor’ and with you here every day, he hasn’t had to go anywhere else to seek solace and that’s been nice. For everyone. And that’s not like Javi. He’s so comfortable around you. It’s like you’re already a couple. You’re not a couple are you?”

“No,” you laugh. “I’m pretty sure I would know. And it’s not like that.”

“Are you sure? I saw the way he looked straight for you when he came in, and the little touches during dinner. I might be married but I’m not blind.”

You laugh again and shake your head.

“I swear, nothing’s happening. We’re not like that.”

“You’re telling me nothing has ever happened?”

You scratch the back of your neck, wincing slightly as you catch her appraising look from under your furrowed brow.

“We, um, slept together once. It was about a month ago. But we kind of fell out and only just reconciled a week or so ago so I don’t think we’ll ever test our friendship like that again.”

You didn’t need to include the kiss last week, because you definitely had no idea what the fuck that meant.

“Ahh.”

“What?”

“Steve said you and Javi had both been strange for a while but wouldn’t go into specifics. Just got really annoyed when I asked after you guys. Makes sense now.”

“Yeah you could say we were acting like dicks.”

She watches you with the flicker of a smile on her lips then questions you, “were you acting like that because you genuinely felt awkward about crossing those lines, or because your heart realized it was something you actually wanted but your mind hadn’t got the memo yet?”

Your mouth falls open and you’re stuck for something to say. What Connie said resonates with you and you wonder if your head and your heart are aligned at all? You're falling apart as it is, you can’t have them not on the same page. But as usual you push the realisation that you need to face these feelings, away to a locked compartment in your brain and traipse into the dining room after Connie, flashing a smile at Javi and a Murphy, the former who is watching you from the balcony while he draws a smoke.

Dessert is fantastic, and you’re most definitely full to the brim now, sure you’ll pop if you squeeze even one more bite in.

You lounge in your chair so you can finish your beer, Javi’s thick arm slung casually over the back of your chair and you can’t help but hyperfixate on his position. The way he’s left it there, casual in its placement, has caused his body to shift, turning into you slightly and you can’t help feel like he’s still trying to protect you, caged territorially around you like an animal sheltering its pride.

Connie throws you an all knowing smirk across the table and you stifle your coughing fit by sinking the remainder of your drink, wiping the escaped droplets with the back of your hand.

You rise to put the empty bottle in the trash, lifting other empties on your way to the kitchen and as you place the last bottle into the can, Javi peers around the doorframe, shining eyes lit up.

“Coming upstairs?”

You nod and smile at him, setting the lid down.

His shoulders seem to relax like a balloon that’s released the air, as though his shoulders were hunched in anticipation of you saying anything other than ‘yes.’ A wary grin spreads across his face and he nods towards the front door, pulling himself backwards out of the kitchen. You sigh as you hear him make his goodbyes and wonder why you over-thought the seating position at the table at all. He’s your best friend. And he told you that nothing would happen on his end. Of course he would lean an arm around you while he’s relaxing at the table. Of course he would give you a reassuring squeeze on your leg. You care about each other deeply, in a purely platonic way so that’s how you show affection and care in this scenario. Your relationship is heightened because of the stressful non stop situation you’re in. Sure you slept together but there were no feelings there, that’s why the following few weeks were awkward. Then you kissed him out of nowhere but think of the day you had had. Heightened emotions on top of heightened emotions. But you’re not awkward now. You’re friends again. Taking care of each other in the little ways you can while on a shitty mission like this one. You’re not stupid. Javi’s a hard man, reserved and simple but he’s let you in enough to peel away some of those layers so you’re not going to fuck that up again. So you say your goodbyes and follow him up the stairs.

You throw yourself onto the top of the bed, sated and sluggish after a few more beers with Javi, lounging against the headboard while he pokes about his drawers for a T-shirt for you to sleep in. His brow is furrowed and he slams the drawer shut, wrenching open the next one down.

“What’s up?”

“Have you actually used all my T-shirts and not returned a single one?” he accuses.

“I haven’t been home much to wash them and bring them back! I’ll get round to it. You’re bound to have something for me to borrow.”

“You’re at the point now where you’re looking the clothes off my very back.”

“It’s a nice shirt,” you protest.

He laughs, a real belly laugh and pulls his shirt off his head, revealing his golden chest.

“I’m kidding!” you squeal, covering your eyes childishly and pretending to peek through your fingers as he balls it up and throws it at you. “There’s bound to be something.”

“Cariño, you’re bleeding me dry here.”

You jump up and go to his wardrobe, noseying through his suits and shirts until you find an old jumper at the back, a thin layer of dust sheening the shoulders.

“Jesus when did you last wear this?”

“Some date a while ago.”

“Javi Peña doesn’t date.”

“Yes I do. They just need to be worth it.”

“The only girls you know are me, Connie, and your informants from the whore houses,” you snort, turning away from Javi and pulling your shirt off, replacing it with the jumper. “You need to broaden your horizons.”

You turn back around, looking at Javi, mustache bristling and wide hands splayed on his hips.

He lifts his gaze from the floor and looks at you expectedly.

“What?”

He doesn’t answer, dark eyes smoldering into yours before he shrugs and sits to pull his jeans off and climb into bed, almost as if he were deciding to say something or not.

You shirk your own jeans, dumping them on the foot of the bed for you to roll back on tomorrow morning for your traipse home to shower and change before work and roll the sleeves of the long jumper up to free your hands, pulling the sheet right around you and snuggling in. You eye Javi, lying on his back with his hands behind his head looking up at the ceiling distractedly.

“I’ll go home tomorrow and wash all your stuff, I swear.”

“Good. You may aswell bring some of your own stuff back too so you stop stealing mine.”

He leans over, turns off the light and rolls back towards you, pulling you in tight to his body. “Would save us some time dropping you off at yours every morning too, you’re taking longer every day and all the good coffee’s gone by the time we arrive at the office.”

He places a gentle kiss to your forehead and nuzzles his face against your hair, getting himself comfortable for the night.

It’s much later and you can hear Javi’s soft snores against your cheek telling you he’s sound asleep but you’re a million miles away from sleep. Your mind is racing, pouring over Connie’s comments and your own thoughts about them, and Javi’s last remark.

What did he mean by ‘bring some of your own stuff back too?’

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yowyowyaoi · 7 months

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Nagato’s Daily Texts from the Akatsuki

From Hidan

Ok but what pill do you take? Because there’s no way you do her naturally.

Fuck him and his money.

Did you even look at the chair? There was BLONDE hair all over it! It was DEIDARA.

Make two more bodies but make them chicks. Bouncy bouncy 🤤

Just eat it man it’s freaky that we can count every one of your fucking ribs through your shirt …

For the last time I don’t eat them, I just kill them. That’s it. Ask plant-dick!!

Yeah but won’t your bones snap or some shit if you move outta that thing?!

Pleeeeeeeaaase Leader just let me preach one sermon to them all I can convert those fucks I know it!

He PUSHED ME DOWN THE STAIRS!! And then the old bastard blamed ME for it!!

We ALL deserve a raise!! What he gives us barely buys food for the week!

No because Lord Jashin does not consider animals to be sinners. It has to be humans or nothing.

From Itachi

No need, Kisame and I shall bring the tea to you.

If you wish but he’s likely to try and blow me up first.

One of meditation, one on healthy eating. I believe both would benefit you.

Sasori is gruff but he *helps*. His medicine *works*. If you feel awkward asking, command him.

She’s growing very quickly. Already catching mice on her own 🥰

I used to be scared but not anymore. The only thing I worry about is how it will affect Kisame.

I know what she means to you. She will be safe with us, I promise.

Don’t tell anyone yet but we’d be honored if you’d officiate for us. And I’m baking a large cake for everyone to share after.

He gets the job done but the cursing gives me an awful headache 🫤

You weren’t there so I left the dango on your table.

I don’t know if I can do a gengetsu strong enough to make him spend his money 🤔

From Kakuzu

They’re just whining. They’re fine.

The two bounties should be enough to pay our informants with some left over for base repairs.

His entire existence is a waste of money. You’d be doing everyone a favor if you just let me kill him.

For fuck’s sake, let them learn how to hunt and fish! *I* did when I was a young nin!!

I found a cheaper place. Smaller and the three idiots might have to bunk together but we’ll save a lot on utilities.

I have sewn that child’s arms back on THREE TIMES this week. Take away his clay he isn’t responsible with it!

Nothing is immortal. I’ll find a way to end him.

Your woman hits much harder than one would expect. Lesson learned.

What USE is he?! All he does is prance around after Deidara and babble nonsense! I’d bet money that if he took off that mask he’d be the highest bounty in my Bingo Book!

From Kisame

My many thanks, Leader.

Oh, apologies, that was me. I simply ate what Zetsu couldn’t finish.

If that brat even looks at Samehada again I’ll end his entire bloodline 😡

You’re looking rather pale lately. I tell Itachi to spend more time in the sun, perhaps you need to as well.

Define “dangerous” 🤔

We could carry you there. The locals swear that the lake has regenerative healing powers.

A bit more money would be nicer. Itachi sleeps better in Inns rather than camping in the cold.

He’s actually an excellent fisherman but he has to wear gloves or his hand-mouths start eating them raw.

I understand that you worry but believe me, she is more than capable of protecting herself.

I’m glad it makes him happy but I feel like she looks at me and thinks “dinner”. 😳

It’s a book about life after loss. I’m trying my best to prepare myself for the inevitable.

If he starts in on that Jashin crap again I’m taking his head and burying it where noone will ever find him.

From Sasori

Your biological limitations are what holds you back. You would benefit THE MOST from the puppet-transfer process.

You and her can find other ways to “be romantic”. But as easily compromised as your immune system is, I’d strongly advise against that.

Pushed? What am I, a child? He FELL. I can’t be held accountable for his own clumsiness. 🤦‍♂️

The new legs should be ready no later than three days from now.

I’m happy but falling for him was very clearly a horrible lapse of judgement on my part.

Take the two red pills when you first wake up, the blue capsule before you go to bed, and the small green one with food anytime you think your heartbeat seems irregular.

Mm, well, she is very aesthetically pleasing.

I don’t mind at all. Modifying the Pein-bodies gives me a much needed mental challenge.

I’ve tried to persuade him but he’s made it clear he’s not interested in prolonging his life. I have to respect his decision.

Ah, cake. One of the few things I miss from my eating days.

From Zetsu

We scouted out the location for them. Marked out the easiest way on the map.

He calls us a freak again and we eat his head right off the shoulders. His eternity can be spent in our stomach.

Foolhardy but very amusing. His little explosions liven up such a dreary organization.

The paper dance may have been the most beautiful thing we’ve ever seen. You’re truly a lucky man.

If it helps, our share can be divided amongst the others. No need for money.

Ah but the cloak truly irritates our delicate skin. We mostly travel underground anyway, does it matter if we wear it or not?

Can’t imagine a world in which one would *willingly* be preached to like that.

We merely wanted to pet the kitten. We weren’t going to eat it. Licking it was just what a mother cat would have done!

From Deidara

He’s literally just jealous because I look better than him!

It had nothing to do with my bombs, the guy got away because Tobi was watching the ducks instead of keeping watch on him like I told him to!

Of course! I can have your face and hair looking like new in no time!

Ffs I’m not going to explode her! I’m not crazy! Please make Uchiha just let me pet her!

Technically you’re like our father. I’m the youngest so I’m your responsibility. You CAN make him marry me, you CAN make Kakuzu throw us a reception and you CAN send us on a two week honeymoon. Sasori will come around to the idea. 🙃

Come have dinner with us. Kisame made the salmon just how you like it.

I’m not doing it on purpose! He’s not even using his own thread he’s using some cheap shit he found to save money! THAT’S why they keep coming detached!! 😡

What’s your favorite animal? I’ll make it for you.

I’m not a baby he doesn’t need to monitor me!

I would have brought it home because free milk but Kakuzu would have turned him into steaks 🙄

We stopped at the park after. I’ll send you pictures she looked so pretty on the swings

From “Tobi” / Obito

I bet he would if the puppet got put through the wood chipper 😊

He needs to be reigned in, his sacrifices attract far too much attention.

I’m surprised you want to take her there, considering how much you both hate the rain.

Doing the voice puts a horrible strain my on throat. Raw honey helps.

I’ve spent my whole life not going after what I want. I’m going after him. Period. Sasori be damned.

Itachi needs to be *forced* to take the medication. He’s too valuable to lose just yet.

The old man really picked the cheapest phones possible. The reception is horrible. We’d be better off communicating through smoke signals.

Let ME cook once in a while. “Tobi” would blow these fools’ minds.

From Konan

Of course not! You silly asshole 💙

I remember. It’s about the only good memory I have from that wretched place.

Think those new legs of yours can carry you to my room? I’ve got some exercises I think would help strengthen them 😏

Don’t stress out, I’ll deal with them. They’re more scared of me anyway.

Idc what he told you, DO NOT let him turn you into a puppet 😡 If he tries it I’m throwing him in the fireplace.

I mean yeah there’s Hidan and Deidara, but all in all I think this group turned out very well.

I made you a nice dinner. And your favorite dessert 😉

Kakuzu thinks they can live in the same room?! That fool will end up spending more on repairs than it would cost to just give them their own rooms!

All he ever wanted was for us to be happy and safe. We are. We’re very much honoring his memory.

Well you never sneezed around Chibi so the kitten should be fine for you to hold.

Not when they make me gain 100 pounds per bite 😖

I need that to be the case. Very badly.

Sounds like you and I are due for a little vacation, eh?

Working on this technique where I have bombs mixed in with the regular paper. Different colors. I’ll show you later.

Friends to lovers is the perfect story, don’t you agree?

“Mediating” is almost impossible. I just shut the people fighting into a room and pray the room is still intact when I come back later 😓

I don’t care, the Pein body isn’t YOU. I prefer it natural.

It was hilarious I yelled and they all looked terrified. Pretty sure I made Hidan pee his pants 😂

#nagato uzumaki #nagakona #nagato x konan #the akatsuki #hidan #deidara #itachi uchiha #obito uchiha #tobi #sasori #kakuzu #kisame hoshigaki #konan #zetsu #texting #Akatsuki Daily Texts Series

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sarahowritesostucky · 4 months

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📖"Body Heat" : A Snowpiercer-Marvel Mashup Story

Part 2 - "A Microcosm of Humanity, Boiled Down to its Base Elements" (Wait! I haven't read Part 1 yet!)

Rated: Explicit

Pairing: Curtis Everett x ofc

Tags: dystopia, food insecurity, post apocalypse, age difference (18/34), dark!fic, implied/referenced suicide, background character death (offscreen), poverty, arranged marriage, implied/referenced past cannibalism, hurt/comfort, attempted rape, dub-con

Summary: Curtis stops a would-be assailant in the wash car. Still worried for Rose's safety, he brings her back to his bunk to sleep.

Author's Note: This fic is dark. This chapter includes explicit, non-gory mentions of: past cannibalism, the consumption of rat meat, and a character who attempts to rape another character but is stopped just in time. 🖤DNI if you can't handle it 🖤

Part 2 - "A Microcosm of Humanity, Boiled Down to its Base Elements"

Mealtimes in the Tail are more about social interaction than they are about food—Kind of hard to have a dinner party when the only things there are to feast on are protein blocks and a meat that you’re pretending is chicken, after all. But they make due.

They have dishes now, at least. A couple hundred plastic bowls and cafeteria cups, dimpled and chipped at the rims, but still serviceable. They’re some of the newer amenities, part of the package that the council negotiated for in last year’s talks. It’s never much but it’s something, brings them just a smidge closer to being able to live like human beings, rather than animals.

It’s been twelve years, and still they’re celebrating over bowls when they should be aiming for antibiotics. But conditions were so miserable after Boarding that even the smallest concession from uptrain feels like a luxury now. Curtis would prefer the progress be faster, but he’s not in charge. He’s Gillam’s second in command, and Gillam’s so old and frail now. After the turmoil of the Year Two (and Three, and Five) Revolts, Curtis made him a tacit promise to not resort to such violent measures again lightly. For now, negotiated castoffs and increased recyclables from uptrain will have to do.

He doesn’t see Rose again for the rest of the afternoon. Four hundred people living in a metal box tend to brew discontent and interpersonal problems over the tiniest of things, and as one of the Tail’s five elected, a big chunk of Curtis’ days are spent solving petty conflicts between the Tailies. He navigates his way through a list of waiting disputes in the market car and in the bunks, making his rulings on what’s fair, and trying not to worry obsessively over Rose and where she is and how she may be doing and who may be bothering her.

But he’s not entirely successful, because something still loosens in his chest when he catches sight of her—looking peaceful and sitting quietly alone at dinnertime. He walks over, grinning the closer he gets as she continues not to notice his approach. “Hey Petal!” he whisper-yells right beside her as he taps her shoulder and sinks down to sit next to her on the floor.

She gasps and almost drops her bowl, but a relieved smile splits her face when she sees that it’s him. “Curtis! Hey. It’s you.”

“Course it’s me.” He frowns quizzically at just how relieved she looks. “Who’d you think it was?”

“Nobody,” she excuses quickly, shaking her head and inching over to make more room for him. “Just glad to see you, is all. Today’s been … long.”

“Yeah,” he agrees. “Did you get the clothes to Gilliam?”

Her smile softens and she nods. “Yeah. And the arm to Coulson.” She gestures down the car to where Phil is sitting, using the rudimentary limb with clumsiness but steadfast determination. “He has to practice, but I think it’s gonna work pretty well for him.”

“I’ll bet.” Curtis smiles, happy for him. Phil’s also one of the elected, and along with Gilliam, Curtis, The (recently deceased) Man, and Banner, he’s always done his best to help the people in the Tail survive. That’s why he’s currently missing his arm from just above the elbow.

Curtis remembers the taste of human flesh. He wishes he didn’t, but he does. And what’s more, he wishes it’d tasted worse than it had, wishes he didn’t have the memory of how his mouth had watered when he’d finally gotten to eat for the first time in over a week. He averts his eyes from Coulson, ashamed, setting his bowl on the floor and sliding his right hand up under his left coat sleeve to trace the jagged evidence of his own failure.

It hadn’t tasted bad. That’s something he’s never said out loud. Because it’s too shameful. Talking about the early days isn’t forbidden, per say, but there’s an understanding amongst the Tailies that you don’t discuss the actual experience of eating human flesh. Unless it’s in private with someone very, very close to you, you don’t talk about the worst things that went down in those days.

Curtis glances back to Phil, wondering. He doesn’t actually know who he’s eaten. Back in the Desperation, there had been a decision amongst the volunteers that their donations would be mingled and prepared anonymously, to avoid people knowing—even family members, even the donors themselves. Curtis gets lost in the horror of the memory for a minute or two as he stares across the car at Phil, wondering, remembering the taste …

He snaps out of it when Rose says something to him, and he realizes that he’s still got his right hand stuck up his left coat sleeve, touching the scar. Rose’s voice pulls him out of it, like a fog suddenly lifting, and Curtis hastily picks his bowl back up, asking Rose to repeat herself and then mustering a cheerful answer for her as he puts the memories of the past back in the box on the shelf in his mind.

He and Rose sit shoulder to shoulder and converse over their bowls of stew. It’s one of only a few things that Tailies ever have to eat, and it consists of broth made from cooked down protein blocks, and chunks of meat from the only other animal that shares the tail section with them.

Yeah, they eat rats. Curtis has stopped caring at this point. In fact, he’s not sure he ever really cared in the first place. Once you start with cannibalism, the only way to go is up. And it doesn’t taste too bad—especially since they’ve graduated from catching the rats to actually breeding them in cages. Between that and the artificial salt substitute that Curtis negotiated as part of last year’s package, things have a nicer flavor to them than they used to.

“Didn’t you work in the kitchen car for a hot second?” he says between one sip and another, when he’s paused to try and use his fingernail to get a stringy bit of meat out from between his teeth. “What’d Wanda have you and MJ doing in there?”

Rose makes a face. “There're only a couple steps to making this slop, Curtis. Use your imagination.”

He laughs at the comical shudder she gives, and she kicks him for laughing at her. “So dramatic,” he teases. “What do you have to compare it to, anyway, huh?” He rolls his eyes. “Train babies. Don’t realize how good you have it.”

She gasps and pokes him as though he’s heaved a grave insult at her. “I am not a train baby!”

“Barely.”

“I’m eighteen!” she says, as if that makes her a full fledged adult. “I remember food from Before,” she insists, and Curtis shakes his head in amusement at her.

“Fine. What do you remember?” He’s breaking one of his own rules for her, talking about Before. It should alarm him but it doesn’t. “What food?” he taunts.

She sticks her chin out haughtily and thinks about it, before declaring, “Goldfish. And noodles. I remember noodles.”

It takes all Curtis has inside him not to snicker at her expense. He does want this girl to like him, after all. He looks down at his own bowl of stew and smiles fondly. “Goldfish crackers and noodles. That’s very specific.” The kind of thing a young child would remember. “Is that all?”

She twists her lips and admits, “Yeah.”

You have blocked a lot of it out, Curtis thinks sadly. Just not the parts that happened after Boarding. “It’s better that way,” he tells her. “Makes all of this more bearable.” Rose has never really had a life that was anything other than “bearable,” and while that is something of a mercy for her, it also makes Curtis want to be the one to give her more; be the one to introduce her to finery and pleasure, show her what it can taste like, what it can feel like. “There’s things I want to get for us,” he tells her, speaking quietly because he doesn’t need the people nearby overhearing and getting themselves worked up. “Things for the Tail, food I want to negotiate for. I think this might be the year.”

Rose looks intrigued. “What?”

“Lean closer,” Curtis whispers. “This is top secret.”

She smirks and scootches even closer to him, until they’re pressed together from hip to shoulder. “What?” she whispers.

Curtis looks her in the eye and lets the tension build for a moment, trying his damnedest to keep his expression serious, and then he declares, “Goldfish and noodles.”

She gives an outraged squawk and swats at him for making fun of her, though she’s laughing herself. “You suck!”

Curtis stays her hand, pulling her into a one-armed hug and apologizing through his own laughter. “Wait, wait, wait. I’m sorry, I’m sorry. Shh. I’ll tell you.” He calms down from laughing. “I’ll tell you, I will.”

“Jerk,” she mutters, but he can hear the fondness in her voice.

“Chickens,” he whispers in her ear. “You remember those?”

She purses her lips thoughtfully, then shrugs in a way that tells him she really doesn’t. “That’s an animal,” she says, in what she doesn’t realize is a sad demonstration of her limited knowledge. “A bird.”

“Yeah,” Curtis says. “Yeah it is. You know the New Year’s eggs?” Every year since Year Five, a wheelbarrow from uptrain arrives on New Year’s Day bearing the coveted gift of hundreds of gleaming white, hard-boiled eggs—one for each blasted soul who lives trapped in the Tail section. Rose hums and Curtis nods. “Those come from chickens. They lay the eggs and you can eat them. It’s a good source of food. And you can kill the chickens and eat them, too. Eat their meat.”

“But … don’t baby chickens come from the eggs?” Rose asks naively.

Curtis smirks. “Yeah, but that’s when they’re fertilized. If a male chicken isn’t around fucking the hens, then the eggs just come out, and you can eat ‘em. They don’t have baby chicks in them.” He watches Rose’s face screw up at the stark visual, and is surprised when she bluntly declares,

“Oh. So … like a period, with us.”

Curtis almost swallows his tongue. First of all, he wouldn’t have expected Rose to be able to make the comparison. Because she may be old enough to bleed, but they don’t exactly have comprehensive sex ed in the Tail. As far as Curtis knows, the girls are taught young—very young—what sex is, what it leads to, and how to avoid it at all costs. Curtis doesn’t think he’s heard a person talk openly about these things since before Boarding. It just isn’t done. The women handle their stuff themselves, and the men have their heads bitten off if they interfere.

“Um,” he says, face heating. “Yeah, I guess. Except you don't lay eggs." Rose snorts and Curtis winces and scratches awkwardly behind his ear. “So anyway, I want to get us some chickens. If we had those, it’d help a lot.”

Rose stares pensively into the depths of her soup bowl, with its globulous broth and stringy bits of meat. “It’d taste better than this?”

Curtis scoffs. “Most things do, Petal.”

“Jeez, you’re really sticking with that, aren’t you?”

He wraps an arm around her shoulders and gives her a squeeze, laying out his vision for the future. “I want to negotiate for another car. With dirt and chickens.”

“Dirt?”

“Yeah. They grow things uptrain. Crops. We could too. We could raise chickens in half of it, grow potatoes in the other half.”

Rose looks at him like he’s just announced he’ll be negotiating for the moon. “They’ll never give it to you,” she whispers. “Why would they?”

“If I could threaten them with something big enough. We might have the bargaining power.”

“What would you threaten them with?”

He smiles sadly and squeezes her shoulder. “I dunno. That’s what I’ve gotta figure out.”

“But you’re not gonna … I mean there’s not going to be another war, is there? Not like before …”

There’s genuine fear in her voice when she asks, which makes Curtis feel like crap. Everyone had suffered back then. Many had died. He thinks about how Rose would’ve only been eleven or so, during the Year Five Rebellion. Just a kid, still playing with the crummy little doll Curtis made for her. “No, Hon,” he promises gently. “No. There are other ways. Other things we can do to gain leverage. It just takes time.”

“What ways?”

He shakes his head and smiles. “Don’t worry about it.”

“I can’t help it,” she pouts. “I may not know many things. But I like to know them.”

He smiles fondly. “I know, Petal. You’re curious. Always have been. You like to 'know the scuttlebutt', as they say. You’re not afraid to ask questions. I like that about you.”

“You do?”

“... Among other things.” He sees her cheeks color prettily, and realizes he’d better stop talking. “Sorry.”

“It’s okay.”

“I’d tell you if I could, but these things are above your paygrade. Me and Gilliam’ll figure it out.” He shoots her a wink. “That’s why they pay us the big bucks.”

She titters at that, because they both know that there’s no such thing as money in the Tail. Oh there’s currency, for sure, just not the kind that’s handed over as stacks of bills. Curtis lets his eyes drag over the few parts of Rose’s body that he can see: her attractive face and the slope of her neck, the delicate suggestion of a collar bone where it peeks out before it’s swallowed up by her sweater. He looks away. “I want to improve things for us. Change is possible. There are things we can get. We just have to work for it.”

“What things?” she presses, leaning closer.

He thinks about brushing her off, but he can see that she’s genuinely curious, and the interested gleam in her eyes sways him. Because ideas can mean hope, and he wants her to have hope. They’ve both seen what can happen when there isn’t any.

He tells her about the basic medicines and medical supplies that could be useful, tells her about the items they could receive if people uptrain were more willing to bargain. “More castoffs would go to us, instead of into the recycling machines,” he tells her. While it is true that some old and unwanted items eventually make their way into the Tailies’ “market,” the sad fact is that many more materials are cleansed, disintegrated, and recycled for use through the train’s 3d printing machines. Curtis has never seen them, but due to his yearly talks with a woman named Melanie, he now knows that they exist, and they’re why not much gets sent back to the Tailies.

“We’d have more clothes, toys and books, all sorts of new things.” Of course when he says “new” he only means new in the sense of new to them. To people in the front, Tailies are second class citizens at best, subhumans at worst. The funny thing is, Curtis doesn’t take offense at it like he used to. He’s learned by now that it’s human nature to kill, cheat and steal, clamoring all over each other whenever resources are limited. They’ve literally eaten the weak in the Tail, after all. It’d be hypocritical to hold the first class passengers to a higher standard.

No, Snowpiercer is just a microcosm of humanity boiled down to its base elements. Nine-hundred people surviving on a miserable little train, barreling endlessly around the frozen corpse of the planet. Of course there’s going to be subjugation of the weak so that others can have more. Curtis doesn’t hold it against them anymore, but he sure as hell isn’t going to take it lying down. The Tailies were never ticketed passengers. They forced their way on, they scraped and scrounged and earned their survival. And if they ever get the chance, they’ll turn the tables on the passengers uptrain in a heartbeat. Curtis makes speeches about “leveling the playing field,” but he doesn’t have visions of utopia. Not really. He just wants to die in a feather bed.

“What would we have after chickens?” Rose asks, drawing Curtis out of his gloom. She knows as well as he does, what the definition of a 'pipe dream' is, but it’s fun to pretend with someone you like, and Curtis likes her. Always has. He likes that she hasn’t turned grey and dull like everyone else in the Tail. So he indulges her 'what ifs' and they continue to tease each other over various colorful and increasingly stupid imaginings: how they’ll have potatoes, and then beef, then televisions, bathtubs, a swimming pool.

At some point, Curtis realizes that he’s actually managed to make her smile, and giggle. Even sitting on a cold steel floor slurping at a bowl of rat and god-knows-what stew, he feels like a king knowing he was able to do that. “You’re really beautiful when you smile,” he blurts out, soaking up the way that her eyes get just a little bit wider and her lips part in surprise. He averts his attention back down to his bowl, pleased as punch. “‘Course, I always think you’re beautiful,” he murmurs, fully intending for her to hear.

She gets quiet after that, bashful and seemingly deep in thought. Curtis doesn’t worry though, because when everybody settles in to listen to that night’s story, she goes to fetch one of the blankets off her bunk and brings it back. She plops herself right back down next to Curtis and hands him a corner of the blanket to wrap it around both of their shoulders. He obliges. The assembly car fills up for that night’s entertainment, and just before the lights are dimmed down to their lowest level, Curtis locks eyes with Tanya from across the car, who’s shooting him a scrutinizing look. He’s grateful to escape her judgment for the moment, but he knows she’ll be on him before long.

They set out the tall stool at the head of the car, and Painter, the Tail’s historian, climbs up and settles on it.

A quiet man of short stature, Painter’s been performing the nightly stories since almost from the very beginning. He has a way of seeing things that others don’t, a way of weaving words and details together in graduating, elaborative cadence; like his drawings, like strings on a loom, always managing to convey the true heart of a matter in a way that resonates with people. It’s the closest thing to watching a movie any of them will probably ever get again, and in Curtis’ opinion it has just as much value as the food they feed their bodies with. People need more than just food to survive. They need community, they need love, they need hope.

Painter sits silently at first—a sign that he hasn’t decided on the topic and is taking suggestions that night. Someone calls out in the dimness to suggest The Man for tonight’s story, and a murmur of general agreement goes through the crowd. Up ahead on his stool, Painter nods. The Man was well known in the Tail, having long-served on Gillam’s council, among other things. Curtis hadn’t been lying to Rose, when he’d said that her father had been a good leader.

In the crook of his arm, he feels her shift subtly. Aware that this might be hard for her, he leans over and kisses the top of her head. “Hey, are you okay?” he whispers, giving her the option. “You want to go?” But she shakes her head and tucks herself further into him, so Curtis relaxes back, looking forward to getting to hold her in his arms for the next hour or two.

Painter does The Man justice. Children are always kept in another car during storytime, so that the plotlines don’t have to be watered down for their sensibilities, but even still, Curtis doesn’t doubt that Painter knows Rose is present, because he takes care to soften the corners of the story where she features, and to use gentle words when the most painful memories are fleshed out.

For over an hour, Curtis lets his eyes slip closed and the words wash over him. He tucks his nose into Rose’s hair and breathes the scent of her in, holding her small, soft body against him. He can feel every shift and sway that she gives as she hears the story, too, and they enjoy their time together, connecting over the shared intimacy of Painter’s words.

At some point, he brings her into his lap, and she comes so easily—like she was just waiting for the invitation, and is relieved that he wants her there. This isn’t something they’ve done before. Not like this. And he can tell by the slight tension in her body that she knows it, too. This is new. It could be the first time a man has ever showed her attention like this, and Curtis wants it to be good and easy for her. He gently rubs her back as the story stretches on, relieved when he can feel all the tension slowly leaving her. “Good girl,” he whispers against her hair.

She hums and rubs her cheek on his chest with complete trust, and Curtis suddenly remembers what it used to feel like to sink into a full, hot bath. Is this what it means to be touch starved? he wonders. Probably. It’s been so long since he’s been genuinely intimate with another person, that he’d almost forgotten the feeling.

Eventually he can hear the tone of Painter’s words changing, can hear it all coming to a close as he wraps up his retelling of that night’s story. Curtis has never hated anything more. Please, he thinks. Please let him keep going. Let him keep talking just a little bit longer so she’ll stay in my arms. He doesn’t want to let her go.

… Maybe if he plays his cards right, he won’t have to.

Tanya does confront him that night, cornering him by her spot before he can follow after Rose on her path to the wash car. “Pretty sure that girl knows how to bathe herself,” she says, hand planted firmly on Curtis’ chest. “She doesn’t need you, Curtis.”

Curtis loses sight of Rose going into the next bunk car, and he settles back onto his heels, glaring at Tanya. “I’m trying to look out for her.”

Tanya raises an unimpressed eyebrow at him. “You sure that’s all you’re trying to do?”

Curtis’s eyes narrow. “Have you been paying attention? Look around.” He nods at the crowded bunk car around them and speaks in a hushed tone. “You’re in charge of all the female stuff, you should know better than anyone what’ll happen now that her father’s gone. I’m only trying to protect her.”

Tanya purses her lips. “Uh huh. Protect her with your penis, is that how?”

“Jesus.” Curtis takes a step back, crossing his arms in frustration. He leans back against a metal rail. “I’m just being realistic,” he eventually says, after sulking over it for a moment. He respects Tanya—she’s a crucial part of the Tail, helping the women who get pregnant and give birth, helping the girls when they start developing (and, eventually, when they start attracting the attention of the men). “You’ve seen them looking?” he asks, not having to look at Tanya to know that she understands him. “So what am I supposed to do? Just wait until somebody else stakes their claim?”

Tanya makes an angry sound, though it isn’t directed at Curtis. “I stop them.”

“You stop the ones you can,” Curtis says lowly. “But eventually—”

“Eventually is eventually. Right now is right now,” she hisses.

Curtis turns back to her. “We play it your way and the first guy who stakes his claim gets her. That’s how it works. You know that. Is that what you want, huh?” Tanya’s face works in frustration, and Curtis softens. “Hey,” he says, placing a consoling hand on her shoulder. “I don’t like it either. We do the best we can with what we have.” He feels her shoulders rise and fall in a beleaguered sigh.

“I boxed Batroc’s ears last week,” she tells him; her way of giving tacit approval. “Keep an eye on that dirtbag.”

Curtis nods. He’s aware of who the biggest threats are, currently. It’s the men in their twenties and thirties who prey on the up and coming girls. Marriage isn’t a thing in the tail so much as claiming is. The men have a sort of ‘first dibs’ honor system that Curtis despises, but that he can’t change on his own. Not when the majority is so set on it. “I’m not going to force her,” he promises Tanya. “Okay? I’ll give her the choice. You know I will.”

Tanya’s jaw works, but eventually she nods and turns to the side to let him pass. Curtis pats her shoulder in thanks and heads off in the direction that Rose went with her towel.

He gets there just a few seconds too late—or at least, that’s what he thinks when he hears her crying out from the women’s side of the wash car. Curtis barrels around the partition, heedless of whoever else may be in there when he can hear Rose in distress.

There’s a man standing at her back, pushing her face up against the wall of one of the stalls. She’s naked, the shower spraying aimlessly not even a foot away. She’s struggling, crying … and the man’s pants are halfway down his thighs.

Curtis sees red. “Get the fuck off her!”

Everything happens in a blur: him pulling the man back by his shirt and throwing him onto the floor at the opposite side of the car, the man’s head hitting the wall, Rose crying out in fear, Curtis going over to gather her naked body into his arms. “Are you okay?” he asks breathlessly, holding her as she sobs and presses her head of soaked hair against him. His hands slide over the water-slicked skin of her back, his heart in his throat. “Did he hurt you?”

She sobs and shakes her head, clinging to him. “Curtis!”

“Shh, you’re okay. It’s okay. I’ve got you.” He looks across the car at the man, who’s now rubbing his head with a pained wince. Curtis feels rage consume him and he has no control over his actions as he abandons Rose by the stall and stalks across the car to punch the guy square in the face. He immediately grabs his shirt collar and hauls him back in. “Who the fuck do you think you are?!” he roars.

“Stop!” the man—a guy Curtis knows only as Hodge—coughs out, speaking through blood and what’s likely a broken nose. He holds up his hands to defend himself from further assault, and Curtis shakes him with a furious growl.

“Did you touch her?! What did you do? I’ll kill you!”

“I didn’t!” Hodge coughs, pushing against Curtis. “I didn’t do anything! I was just—”

Curtis slams him back into the wall of the car. “Then why’s your dick out?!” Hodge sinks down the wall to the floor and Curtis follows him down. “Answer me!”

“I just wanted to talk to her!”

He’s about to reach down and rip this guy’s nuts off, but Rose calling to him from the other side of the car draws his attention away: “Curtis, please. Curtis!” She’s standing there—naked, wet and shivering, futilely trying to cover herself. She looks at him pleadingly through her tears. “He didn’t. You stopped him. He didn’t.”

It’s enough to make Curtis rein himself in from further violence. Rose needs him more than he needs to hurt Hodge. Still, he shakes the man again as he hauls him back up to standing and shoves him towards the exit of the car. “This isn’t finished,” he warns him at the door, pushing him through hard enough that he falls to his ass on the other side. Curtis points at him. “You’ll pay for this.”

He slams the door and goes back to Rose, who’s still standing there looking lost, shivering, cold. The shower’s still running, so Curtis hurries over to turn the water off. He grabs the towel that’s hanging on the hook and brings it to Rose, intending to bundle her up as quickly as he can. She takes it and wraps it around herself, but it ends at mid thigh and Curtis’ eyes are drawn to a trickle of red running down her inner thigh. All the blood drains from his face. “You’re bleeding,” he says, horrified.

Rose looks down at it and sniffles. “Oh.”

“I’ll fucking kill him,” Curtis breathes, already turning to go back out and finish the job.

“Curtis! Curtis wait!” Rose grabs his arm with both hands as she shakes her head frantically. “I’m fine. It’s my period. He didn’t hurt me.”

Curtis calms down, his chest heaving from adrenaline. “You swear?” he urges, grabbing her upper arms and holding her in front of himself to get a better look at her. Now that he’s paying attention, he can see that she’s dripping wet and rattled, but not visibly hurt.

“I swear. I’m okay.”

His eyes track back down to the blood on her leg, suspicious until he looks beyond and sees her pile of clothing sitting over on a shelf. There’s a small folded rag there the likes of which he’s seen before; what the women pass around silently amongst themselves when they bleed. Curtis calms down as he realizes that Rose is telling the truth and not just lying to keep him from murdering Hodge. He lets go of her upper arms, suddenly aware that she may not want him touching her right at this moment. “Sorry,” he mutters, not knowing what else to say. He feels like he’s just run a marathon, his heart is beating so fast.

Rose surprises him by throwing herself into his arms again, a sob making her whole body heave against him. “Thank you,” she cries, hugging him, hiding her face against his chest. “Curtis, god. If you hadn’t come in …”

“Shh. I did. I did come,” he reassures her, wrapping his arms around her fully again now that he knows it’s welcome. She feels so small. “You’re okay. I’ve got you.”

They stand there for who knows how long. Minutes, at least. Calming down together. Rose’s crying fades, and Curtis’ blood pressure re-enters the stratosphere. He can feel the red hot anger and instinct to kill bleeding out of his mind the longer that time stretches on. He becomes aware of how cold Rose must be in only her towel and still all wet. “Here,” he says, ushering her back towards the shower. The stalls have changing areas right in front of them, and he steps back so that she can have privacy. “Get dried off. Get dressed,” he says. “I’ll …” his gaze falls back down to the trail of red on her leg. He swallows thickly and averts his eyes. “I’ll be right here.”

Shakily, she nods and pulls the curtain. She gets dressed, and when she opens the curtain again, her hair has been towel-dried and hangs limply about her face. She looks shyly up at Curtis. “Hey.”

“C’mere, Honey.”

She folds back herself into his arms eagerly, whining and pressing into him. “Thank you,” she whispers. “God, Curtis. Thank you.”

“I should’ve been here,” he grunts, thinking of how Tanya had held him back. He silently curses her. “I knew something like this would happen,” he hisses to himself, though he regrets saying it when he feels how it makes her shudder against him.

“Can we get out of here, please?”

He nods and starts to lead them towards the door of the car. He’s not surprised to find Hodge gone on the other side. Curtis silently fumes about what he’d walked in on, as he leads Rose backtrain. They walk through the car where her spot is, and Curtis gives her hand a squeeze when she looks back at it and makes a questioning noise. “I want you with me tonight,” he tells her, gentle but firm, because no way in hell is he leaving her alone now. “Please?” he coaxes, pleased when she looks up to him and nods.

“Okay.”

He smiles softly. “Good girl.”

Curtis has a good sized spot. Certainly big enough for two, which he’s grateful for when he guides her to scoot in across the bed. His is the third bunk up out of four, which means climbing a few rungs, but once you’re up there it affords a fair sense of privacy, especially once he draws the curtain across to close them in together. He flicks the small lamp on, its dim bulb flickering to life and giving just enough light to see by.

He’s got his blankets spread out on the bed. There’s plenty of room enough to sit up and move around, all of his worldly possessions hung to the wall or else strapped against the top of the bunk above. “Home sweet home,” he says, gesturing around half heartedly. “Nothing special.”

“It’s nice.” Rose looks around with a little curiosity before tucking her head down. She shrugs. “You’ve got one of the lights. Our spot doesn’t. I mean … my spot,” she amends quietly. “Our neighbor has the light.”

The lights are built into the walls, meant to faintly illuminate what were once the train’s original baggage racks, powered by the Arc Reactor and impossible to move. But some people have managed to rig up their own lamps from salvaged materials and a little creative wiring over the years. There are no windows in the Tail. Curtis has heard that there are windows uptrain, but he doesn’t know whether to be jealous or not. Would it really improve anything, to have a view of the wasted, frozen world they left behind? He’s not so sure. At least this way they can pretend that Snowpiercer is all there is, the delusion only ruined whenever the Jackboots arrive to deliver food or raid them.

Curtis settles beside her and knocks their legs together. “I’ll keep my eye out for something in the market,” he promises. “Someone as pretty as you shouldn’t be in the dark.”

She smiles as though pained, looking down at her lap. “Being pretty is what got me into this mess.”

Curtis sighs. “No. It’s not just that, Hon.” He cups her face, stroking his thumb over her cheekbone. “It’s not just that.”

“What then?”

He smiles sadly. “Look, if there’s one thing you gotta understand about men, it’s that we covet the rare … and the pure. You’re good. Truly good, in a way most of us aren’t. In a way we can’t afford to be.” He drops his hand and turns away, feeling gross for having told her that, for having included himself in the roster of ‘men’ who think like that. But it’s true. “That’s why you stand out,” he mutters. “None of us are good the way you’re good.”

“What? But you’re good.”

Curtis scoffs. “Please.”

“You are! You’re on council aren’t you?”

He rolls his eyes. “That means I’m good with people, not good. There’s a difference.”

“No,” Rose insists. “No, you help everyone. You lead us, try to make life better for us.” She gets incensed when he continues to disagree. “You do! You … you make dolls for little girls who’ve lost all their toys. You protect us.”

Curtis slumps back against the wall. “Is that what I did back there? Protected you?”

“Yes. Curtis you saved me. You stopped him from …” She falters, unable to say the word, and the silence grows uncomfortable between them. Eventually she stares down at her lap and scoffs bitterly.

Curtis looks over. He doesn’t like the pinch that’s settled between her eyebrows. There’s something strangely self-deprecating about it, and he can’t figure out what’s going on in her head. “Hey.” He nudges her knee with his. “What are you thinking, Hon?”

She shakes her head. “Hodge,” she whispers. “He said things.”

“Oh god. Don’t. Rosie, don’t pay attention to anything that cretin said. Did he threaten you? Because if he did, you know I still have half a mind to rip off his—”

“He said that somebody would choose me, and if it isn’t him it’ll be someone else ‘staking their claim’.” She looks rather mortified as she repeats it. “And he’s not wrong. I mean that’s the way it’s done, isn’t it?” she asks bitterly. “The men. They choose who they want. We don’t get a say. Not really.”

“Rosie,” Curtis mourns, wishing that he could spare her, wishing he could tell her that she has choices, choices that people will respect. But he doesn’t want to lie. She doesn’t deserve to be lied to. “Hey,” he says instead. “You know I care about you, right?”

She nods, sniffling. “Yeah.”

“You should sleep here. Not just tonight but every night.” He can tell by her reaction that she realizes what he means, and he’s pleased when she leans against his side, still seeking comfort in him. He relaxes now that the hardest part is done. “Would you like that, Petal?” he asks softly, wrapping his arm around her and holding her close. She scoffs at the nickname, and Curtis kisses the top of her head. It’s been a long time since he’s had another person in his bunk—a long time. Not having a partner is lonely, sure, but with the way things are in the tail, it’s easier just to jerk off. Romance is all but dead, as is evidenced by the Tailies’ near-transactional customs regarding sex and relationships. “Will you?” he checks, relieved when she gives a little nod and a sniffle.

“I don’t want to be alone.”

“I don’t want that either.”

They sit there in silence for a while, and just as Curtis starts to wonder if Rose has fallen asleep, she whispers, “What was it like?”

“What was what like?”

“Men and women. Before. How did it …” she pauses, considering what she wants to say, or perhaps how to ask. “My dad and my mom,” she settles on. “They loved each other. Nobody claimed my mom. They chose each other.”

Curtis nods and gives her arm a squeeze. “Yeah. That’s how it was.”

“Tell me?” she asks, sounding for all the world like a child asking for a bedtime story. “Please?”

Curtis rubs her back, resigning himself to telling her the truth. “People met,” he says. “At school, at work, through friends. If they liked each other romantically, they dated.”

“What’s ‘dated’?”

He winces where she can’t see. “When you liked someone, you’d ask them out on a date. You’d meet them and go do something nice together. Something fun. Get a drink or see a movie, eat a meal in a restaurant.”

“Did the man decide the dates?”

He frowns. “Sometimes. Women would too, though. Sometimes they’d be the one to ask the guy out. It just depended.”

“What happened next?” Rose asks.

“Well … you’d just keep spending time together, you’d keep dating. If the people decided not to date anybody else, they’d agree to be a couple. Boyfriend and girlfriend. … Or husband and wife.”

“What’s the difference?”

Curtis winces at how sad it is that she doesn’t know that. The long term implications of their confinement in the Tail section are obvious and jarring, at times like this. He licks his lips. “Marriage was more serious than dating. More permanent. You might break up with your girlfriend eventually, but if you made her your wife, then that was like saying you wanted to be together forever.” He doesn’t bother getting into the concept of divorce, knowing that she just needs a basic understanding of the matter. “That’s how it was,” he finishes. “Before.”

Rose is quiet for a long while, thinking it over. Eventually she says, “And now the men choose.”

Curtis hates how resigned she sounds about it. “What happened in the wash car isn’t allowed,” he says, aware of the way her body tenses against him. “I’ll make sure Hodge is punished. But the thing is, Sweetheart … I’m worried he won’t be the last.”

Rose sniffles. “It’s ‘cause my dad’s gone, isn’t it?”

“That doesn’t help the matter. But you’ve been old enough for a while now, for some. And I’ve seen them looking.”

“For some?” Rose peeks up at him. “Not you?”

Curtis hesitates to answer. “... You’re young, Honey.” It’s not like he can say that he wants her. But saying that he doesn’t would be a total lie. He might not be looking yet, if he didn’t have the other men to worry about; but he does have to worry about them, and so he has been looking. “I’ll make sure Hodge is punished,” he reiterates. “Severely. Even with the way things are now, that was completely beyond the pale.” He feels that hot surge of fury boil up inside him again as he thinks about it: Rose standing there, shivering and crying, Hodge with his hands on her, his dick hanging out of his pants. “He was going to rape you,” Curtis growls. “He needs to pay.”

“And the others?” she asks. “You’ll stop them?”

His chest aches at her unshakable faith in him and what she thinks he can do. “I can only protect you one way,” he murmurs, pulling her close and burying his nose in her hair so that she can’t look up at him with those big doe eyes again. “Has Tanya talked to you much?” he asks. Her head moves against him in a little nod, but she doesn’t say anything. Curtis kisses her hair. “What happened in the wash car could happen again. Someone’ll want to claim you.” She whines and rubs her face against his sweater, clinging to him. He pulls her into his lap just like he had during storytime, earlier that night. “Hey,” he soothes, “I wish it could be different, you know? Wish I could take you outta here, make other people respect your choices.” He sighs sadly. “That’s just not how it works anymore, Petal.”

“I know,” she says quietly. “Would you take me on a date, Before?” He hesitates, and she notices. She looks up at him. “You wouldn’t?”

“You’re too young for me,” he admits. “Or you would’ve been. Before.”

“Now I’m not?” she asks, and Curtis averts his eyes uncomfortably, because of course she’s still too fucking young. If they were still in the World she’d be finishing up high school, going to prom and the mall, glued to her phone. Learning about sex from school and porn and from fumbling encounters with boys her own age, not from some jaded midwife in a squalid train car.

“Now …” he sighs. “Now, it’s different. It doesn’t make it right, but girls become fair game once they’re about your age. And any man who’s interested can try for you.”

“I know that,” she whispers. “But what about you? Are you interested?”

Curtis’ mouth is dry. He can’t answer. So he nods smally instead. He’s surprised when she doesn’t seem frightened or upset by this admission. He lets his hands hold her more securely, fingers dipping into the curve of her waist from over her sweater. “I care about you,” he croaks. “I want to protect you. And the only way I know to do that is to claim you myself.”

“Will you?” she asks. She lays her cheek back against his chest and yawns. “Claim me?”

Above her resting head, Curtis grinds his teeth. “Let’s just take it one day at a time, okay Hon?”

“Mm.” She nods sleepily. “Okay. I trust you, Curtis. Thank you for helping me today.”

He doesn’t answer her, just holds her against him and rubs her back as she gradually falls to sleep. He’s not the man she thinks he is, and she should be in her own spot right now, not tucked away in here with him, because sooner or later he knows he’s going to take advantage. He’ll have her, and he’ll make sure that every other man in the train knows that she’s his. That may not be what she really wants, or even what’s good for her.

But oh well, he thinks. At least it’s better than the alternative.

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vvatchword · 6 months

Text

Someone Else's Dream

The first thing Delta saw was the stage, and the second was the woman standing in a spotlight. A nice wooden dinner table set for four stood beside her; cheap ceramic plates ringed a basket of wax fruit. She wore a bright red dress and heels and a yellow apron. She waggled a slab of raw steak around as though she were tempting a dog while jabbering about… shit, he didn’t know, preservation or something.

He was distracted by a creaking floorboard, then by a man’s cough. He heard the click of a lighter and looked up: past the spotlight, there were walls of glass, through which human shapes shifted. Someone was lighting a cigarette, the trembling flame gilding his cheeks.

Oh, I get it, Delta thought. It’s a dream.

Then the woman said, “Instant refrigeration!”

She flung the steak up toward the ceiling and snapped her fingers. Blue light flashed like a firework; a weird halo hazed her hair in neon blue. The steak spun down and she snatched it out of midair, then rapped the meat on the table.

Hard as a rock.

The crowd clapped.

“Food can be stored indefinitely,” she said, striding across the stage. “But what about last-minute guests?”

I’d tell them to get out of my house.

Spinning on her heel, she flung the steak at the table, whisking her hands back and snapping two fingers. This time, Delta could see her whole face light up. Her eyes flashed like twin torches, her fingers blazed up from her knuckles to her fingertips…

A burst of flame and smoke. With a sizzling hiss, the steak splattered on a plate. Pink spots splashed across the white tablecloth.

The crowd oohed.

She strode back to the table, arms thrown out as though to challenge the whole theater.

“With Incinerate, your meal is thawed, or even thoroughly cooked, in seconds.” She jammed a fork into the steak, sliced it with two neat sawing motions, and held it up to the light. It had been perfectly seared. She took a bite and hummed her approval.

“Truly,” she said, dabbing at her lips with a napkin, “what would life be without Fontaine Futuristics?”

“Not much, Mrs. Wright! Not much!” said a disembodied announcer in a peppy voice. “Give it up for Mrs. Wright, housewife extraordinaire, will you, folks?”

Mrs. Wright curtsied with a wink. The music swelled up; the crowd clapped, and somewhere, someone whistled. A couple of guys in uniforms walked out of the shadows, grabbed the table, and ran off stage. She followed them at a trot, breezing by Delta without looking at him.

I’ll bet I’m naked. God, I hate naked dreams.

“And without further ado, ladies and gentlemen, the moment you’ve all been waiting for!” said the announcer. “I am most pleased to produce for you… Subject Delta of the Protector line!”

Applause exploded out of the darkness. Voices whooped. Someone started shouting: “DEL-TA! DEL-TA!”, and soon the whole crowd had picked up the refrain.

A man in a white coat stood next to Delta with his hand on his arm.

Where’d you come from?

“Delta,” he said, “would you please stand in the middle of the stage?”

Well, it was a dream, after all; dreams had dream logic. Delta lumbered out underneath the lights. So fucking heavy. He felt like his thoughts and feet were encased in cement and he couldn’t move his head very far from side to side. He glanced down.

Not naked. Just wearing deep-sea diving gear.

Oh, this was great. Too bad he couldn’t remember any Shakespeare.

The spotlights zipped across the room and focused on him. He swayed. The edges of the room disappeared in a wash of light, and he could no longer see the audience through the window. He was suddenly aware of how hot it was. He was fucking sweltering.

A voice grated through a speaker in his helmet.

“Steady, Delta,” said the man. “Steady.”

Shut up. I’m not a fucking dog.

“As all of you know,” the announcer said, “these are uncertain times.”

A door clanged open on Delta's right.

Delta whirled around. A man in prisoner’s fatigues sprang out of the darkness. His face was horribly distorted, riddled with tumors and scars and sores; his eyebrow drooped over one eye like stretched-out chewing gum.

He whipped out a rusty crowbar.

Holy fucking shit!

The announcer spoke on, his voice bizarrely upbeat. “Police are expensive. Spend hundreds per month just to visit your factory down in Neptune’s Bounty? Not anymore!”

Delta raised his arms and took a step back. He opened his mouth to say, “Get away from me!”

Instead, he woofed.

He woofed!

The fuck!

The prisoner gonged the crowbar against Delta’s helm. With a scream so inhuman he frightened himself, Delta punched. But when he swung his fist, it was like swinging a battering ram. He cracked the prisoner across the room and into a tangle of curtains.

The crowd howled with delight.

The announcer’s voice blazed out of the speakers.

“Protectors are cheap to maintain and nearly impossible to kill. The secret is twofold: their sturdy armored diving suits, which repel most ammunition, and Fontaine Futuristics’ Plasmid technology.”

It took Delta this long to realize that there was a huge drill on his arm—wait, when did they start putting drills on the arms of the suits? He didn’t remember ever training to use the thing, just seeing some guys in the field using it. When had they ever strapped the thing to their arms, anyway? It was hard enough to handle with two hands, goddamn!

The man lay sprawled on the stage not far away, blood pooling underneath him. The crowbar lay only a few feet away. He stretched out, coughing up red foam. His fingers grazed the weapon.

“Delta, would you please drill the prisoner?” said the voice on the radio.

Delta clenched down on the lever. Gears kicked and the drill roared to life.

He couldn’t stop his hand.

He couldn’t stop his hand!

The announcer spoke on, his voice chipper. He might have been advertising potato chips or introducing the latest teen pop wonder.

“When wounded, they regenerate within minutes to hours. With proper upkeep, they do not sleep. An added benefit: no speaking! This lot can’t tell your secrets to the little woman.”

Lazy laughter from the crowd.

Delta had started striding and he couldn’t stop. He wrapped his hand around the prisoner’s skull and lifted him effortlessly. Weakly-kicking legs dangled beneath him.

He had just lifted a whole man by his head. A whole fucking man!

Wake up! Wake up! Please!

For a moment, the two were face to face. The prisoner’s eyes rolled, white and rheumy. It was a face Delta knew from somewhere, he knew he knew it, fuck, what was his name, he had a name…

“Please, god, no!” said the man.

Wake up!

Delta punched the drill through the man’s ribcage. He couldn’t stop it. Oh, god! He couldn’t stop it! There was a horrible scream, a grinding sound, blood all over him… Christ, what was that on his face? His spleen? A liver chunk? A kidney?

The drill kicked like a mule and snapped the body in half.

Wait! Wait a minute! He was holding the drill with one hand! How was he holding it with one hand like that? He’d have to be some kind of superman!

Fuck! Fuck! Fuck!

He dropped the torso and it hit the ground with a wet thud. His fingers were numb. There was a sound coming out of his throat, deep and gravelly and nonsensical. He tried to form a word, but his tongue wouldn’t touch his teeth.

He had no tongue.

Oh, Jesus Christ, he had no tongue!

He whirled, screaming.

“Delta, would you please calm down.”

Wake up! Please, god, wake up!

But as though someone had hit a button, he wobbled to a stop and his throat closed up. Another door popped open, and another man in prisoners’ attire limped out, dragging an axe. His eyes were huge.

The announcer, cheerfully: “Protectors come with the latest in Plasmid technology, including Electro Bolt 3…”

Over the radio: “Would you please use Electro Bolt 3, Delta?”

Delta’s left hand rose mechanically—he could feel an electrical charge building up through his shoulder, down his arm, to his wrist—

He flung his hand up toward the ceiling. The shockwave blasted the curtains back and showered the stage with plaster. For a moment he stood there shivering with the power of Zeus on his palm, asbestos floating down like snow. Then he closed his hand into a fist, light crackling around his fingers, and backed across the stage.

The crowd roared.

“DEL-TA! DEL-TA! DEL-TA!”

“Look at that power!” said the announcer. “All in one convenient package. Other Plasmids include Incinerate 3, Winter Blast 3, and Telekinesis, all prepared with special attention to combat scenarios.”

Radio-man groaned. “Would you please use Electro Bolt 3 on the prisoner, Delta. God, he’s off today.”

“That’s not good,” someone said. Their voice was faint. “Who has his dailies? Give it here.”

“Either someone fucked up or he’s building resistance again.”

Delta jabbed his finger at the prisoner and shocked him—just one long thin lance of light that zapped him and made all his hair stand up. The prisoner yipped and jumped back. A dark stain spread on his pants.

The audience laughed.

The radio crackled. “Oh, dear. He’s thinking again. Last time he started he killed ten people. We’d better dose him.”

“Now? But the investors…”

“Exactly, the investors. Don’t worry about it. It’ll only take one.”

One what? Who are you? Where is this?

The announcer’s voice burst out. “A special surprise! Here’s Dr. Alexander, lead developer on the Protector Program, and…” A pause. “His coworker!”

Dr. Alexander? Delta hated that name. Why did he hate that name?

A round-faced man in a white coat trotted onto the stage, accompanied by a young man who had tucked a sawed-off shotgun beneath his arm. The man with the axe hesitated on the edge of the stage, hugging the weapon like a life preserver.

Dr. Alexander—the white coat—had a mike in one hand and a syringe in the other. The needle caught the light like a silver thread.

“Today, we’d like to give you an extra little demonstration,” said Dr. Alexander. “We’ll show you how easy it is to modify your Protector. They have a small cap on the inside of the arm, which can be removed. Every Protector has a special tube inserted into a vein so that it’s easy to give him Plasmids and Gene Tonics. Remember that your Protector will need weekly doses to stay fit. Delta, would you please stand down? John, you take that convict over there. Just a convicted murderer, ladies and gentlemen, no harm done.”

Axe-man backed away as Shotgun-man lifted his weapon.

Delta stepped back.

“Delta, would you please hold still? Would you please hold your arm out for me?”

Delta wavered, but like clockwork, he raised his arm. Dr. Alexander only came up to his elbow. It didn’t seem right. He didn’t remember being so fucking big.

“As you can see,” Dr. Alexander said, “all you have to do is unscrew, remove the pad, and…” He raised the needle.

Another clicking sound—someone firing up a lighter. Delta twitched, glancing out into the crowd.

A man lit his cigarette. All Delta could see was his face, three quarters view. Crinkled eyes, a sardonic smile, glossy black hair swept back… he could almost hear him laughing.

The rage blinded him, it hit so hard. For a nanosecond, he could only see that man grinning down on him. He felt suddenly that he’d lived a lifetime hating him.

You.

Delta whirled ’round, sending Dr. Alexander sprawling.

“HRRROOO,” Delta said, slinging his arm up toward the crowd. “HRRROOOO!”

“Fuck!” said Shotgun-man and Axe-man at the same time.

Delta boomed off of the stage. In four steps, he’d crossed the divide. By the fifth, he’d jerked on the lever in the drill, and with an ungodly scream, he smashed it through the bullet-proof glass. The pane flashed opaque, spidered through with cracks. The audience shrieked, leaping to their feet. All Delta could see for a second was the cigarette man lifting his head, slightly puzzled; then the whole crowd had leaped to its feet and Delta couldn’t see the man anymore.

He couldn’t be far! He was in there, somewhere, and he couldn’t outrun Delta—not here, not now!

Someone had started screaming at him over the radio. Delta’s arms intermittently hitched mid-swing, but there was no room for magic words in the depths of his overwhelming rage. Delta smashed into the glass over and over and over. Big chunks crashed out onto the floor, and then he hooked the pane on the drill’s helical flighting and yanked the whole thing out of its frame, dashing it into pieces at his feet.

The doors at the far end of the auditorium were plugged up with indistinct human shapes.

He couldn’t get far.

Panting, Delta leaned over the divide between theater and auditorium and attempted to push himself up—but his knee wouldn’t bend far enough, and the suit was too heavy to lift. He felt a bump on his back, then someone kicking—and realized that Dr. Alexander had crawled up between the tanks. The announcer was saying, “Everyone file into the corridor, please, stay calm… everyone stay calm…”

Delta spun around. Needed something to stand on. Where was that fucking table?

He was halfway across the stage when he saw one of the big spotlights. He wrenched it out of the stage floor. His right hand was useless with the drill, but he could use it to hold the light steady.

“Distract him, distract him!” Dr. Alexander shouted.

“With what, Einstein?” said Shotgun-man.

Delta threw the light down in front of the stands and stepped on it. In a squeal of steel, it crunched underfoot. It still gave him about a foot of clearance. He jammed the drill down into the window-frame and tried to raise his foot again… fuck, too short, too short! And the theater was empty.

Oh, god, he was getting away!

“Delta, would you please stop!” Dr. Alexander shouted. “Delta, would you please stop!”

There was a squeaking sound as he twisted a valve.

Delta raced toward another spotlight. He yanked it out of the floor. The cords snapped. Electricity sizzled. Whirling, he rushed to the wall, stacked the second light on top of the first, then went for a third.

Was he imagining things, or was it getting harder to breathe?

Sucking air, he whirled ’round for his fourth light. This time, it took all his effort to jerk it out of the floor, and then he had to bend over his knees to catch his breath. He panted—his lungs ached—his faceplate fogged—he was seeing spots. He dragged the light to the pile—first in his arms, then finally dropping and dragging it behind him. The man was getting away. But Delta knew where he lived. Delta could find him. Delta just had to get out.

Delta dropped the light against its brethren. He struggled to lift his foot. All he managed was to scrape his boot forward. His vision smeared; his heart thudded in his ears. He slumped to the wall, then down on one knee. Dr. Alexander dropped off of his back and grabbed his arm, flipped it over, jerked the pad on the inside of his elbow, and thrust the syringe there.

“Grab me another vial,” he said to Shotgun-man. “I’ve cut off his oxygen for now, but I can’t leave it like that forever. Get the prisoner back into his holding cell! Now! Hurry!”

Cotton crept into Delta’s brain. The images faded away. The room was turning upside down. He toppled over slowly—onto his elbow—onto his shoulder—onto his side. He couldn’t stand and his head was throbbing. Dr. Alexander was saying something, but he didn’t understand it.

Fuck, fuck, fuck, he was getting away, he was getting away.

UPRISING: BLACK SCRAPBOOK HUB

This Chapter on AO3

#bioshock #bioshock 2 #subject delta #gilbert alexander #augustus sinclair #topclair occurred in the past #bye :)#ok you should know this one is definitely not being used hence its inclusion here #I wrote a big note about it on AO3 #that is all

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nancypullen · 1 year

Text

It’s DERBY DAY!!!

Late last night I baked a few cupcakes so that the little miss and I could decorate them this morning. The cupcake liners are red roses (run for the roses) and the decor speaks for itself. Here’s hoping that they taste better than they look.

After breakfast I started a pork butt in the slow cooker so that we can have a Derby dinner of pulled pork. I’m throwing together a broccoli salad and a couple of other things, keeping it simple so I can sit down and enjoy the race. Crossing my fingers that my gray horse wins. I never bet enough to get rich, but if Tapit Trice wins I will be placing a healthy Sephora order. Wrinkle cream ain’t cheap. It also ain’t working, but that’s a story for another day. Around 10 o’clock we ladies went to Easton to paint pottery. Before departing Tennessee a dear pal gave me a gift certificate to Kiln Born Creations. Painting pottery and chatting was a favorite past time of ours in Mt. Juliet and her card said to use the gift to create special memories with the grandgirl. I didn’t intend to wait this long to use it, but between Covid, kidney stones, her 4 year old attention span, etc we did end up waiting. I’m so glad we did. Today Little Miss Magic and I painted a fairy house for her garden. She believes in fairies with all her heart and is convinced she’ll have tenants. I’m going to have to order some tiny shoes or items of clothing to drop inside from time to time. She’ll know they’ve been there.

Once it’s fired those colors will become brilliant and glossy. I think any fairy would be happy to live there.

Can we take a moment to appreciate that adorable dress?

That little Peter Pan collar and the blue waist sash - swoon! My sister made that dress for her daughter twenty plus years ago. She has gifted me with dresses, a kuspuk (also handmade), dance recital outfits, scads of American Girl dolls, clothes, and equipment, and books. Aunt Cathi is an absolute celebrity in my grandgirl’s eyes. When we see a car that even slightly resembles hers, she’ll sigh and say, “I wish that was Aunt Cathi coming to visit.” She’s a fan. Me too.

Right now I’m actually home alone. The gang went off to an animal festival sponsored by Caroline County’s Humane Society. There’s supposed to be live music, food trucks, alpacas and other interesting animals, fun booths for kids, dogs doing tricks and chasing lures, and lots more. I declared that they should go on without me because I still had some meal prep to do, which I truly did need to do if I intend to enjoy the Kentucky Derby. That didn’t take long and now I’m tapping away on the ol’ blog and talking to you. I may have gotten the better end of the deal. I hope they come home with an alpaca. We can add it to the squirrel that is currently residing in our garage and refusing to leave. I’m not sure when he got trapped in there, but he tore up the blinds at one window trying to get out. Mickey cracked the big garage door, but apparently Steve the Squirrel has gotten pretty comfy where we store the bird seed. He was heading toward the door at one point and Mickey raised it which spoked him and he ran back into the shelving. When we came home from Easton and painting pottery I was assured that Steve has gone. I don’t think I believe it. I don’t want to go into the garage to grab gardening stuff or spray paint something and end up with a squirrel in my hair. It doesn’t do any good to demand that he show himself, he won’t do it. I asked Mickey why he thinks the squirrel is gone and he said (and I quote), “Because I saw one that looked just like him run across the street.” This man can’t tell the difference between Ann Margaret and Lucille Ball (”Well, they both have red hair.”) but expects me to believe he can ID a squirrel at twenty yards. Steve is probably behind the shelves raising a family right now. But I can’t think about that right now. I’ve got DERBY plans. The more I do now, the more likely I’ll be able to watch the most exciting two minutes in sports. I’m going to tune in early to ooh and ahh over the hats, listen to the crowd sing My Old Kentucky Home, and get chills when I hear the “Riders up!” call. I love it all. Even if I’m not a winner today (Forte is still the favorite), I’m having a ball. Hope your Saturday is relaxing and that you have as much fun as you’d like. That may mean a big outing or an afternoon nap. Your call. Sending out love, grab some if you need it. Stay safe, stay well, RIDERS UP! XOXO - Nancy

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eartht137 · 3 years

Text

FOR THE BETTER

Hello and greetings to anyone that gets to read this. It is my first story. I wanted to try and see how this was received before continuing so please feel free to let me know how you like it. Please be easy on me it is my first one I am new to this, but I hope you like it. Its a bit slow right now but I swear the chapters will get going as we go along on this ride together. Okay *curvies* love ya! Enjoy!

Dark Clark Kent x (Black)!Plus Size Reader

SUMMARY: (I suck at them but here goes) After working miserable unfulfilling jobs, you decide to go back to school to pursue your dream in writing. You get the very handsome, very smart Mr. Kent as your English/Literature Professor. You've always stayed to yourself preferring to have your alone time and focus on your writing. Mr. Kent comes in to shake that way of thinking up and its all with your best interest at heart (well his best interest at heart){Cheesy, am I right?}

"For the weekend's assignment. Something very simple, almost high school level. Don't complicate it." Mr. Kent said dragging his feet to tell you all what the stupid assignment was.

"Get to the point." You thought out loud as you rested your head in your hand. He glared at you for moment before continuing. You felt your face flush, because-'no way he heard me' you thought.

"I want you all to write me a paper on...one thing you like about yourself and why." He rushed out. "I want you all to be as genuine as possible, if you're going to be journalists you have to capture your audience. If you can sell yourself, then you can sell a story. If you're a snooze fest......I honestly don't know what to tell you" He chuckled

Everyone groaned because why???

"Due next Monday on the dot. NO EXCEPTIONS!" He belted. "If you don't have your paper on Monday, you will stand up and give a 5 minute speech on said topic."

'What kind of teenage topic is this?' You thought.

"Don't give me lip guys, you signed up for this. I didn't make you do anything." He said pointing at all of you. "No complaining. Monday! Class dismissed." He announced causing everyone to scatter. You were just about out the door when he stopped you.

"Y/n, can you stay back for bit?"

"Yeah sure." You immediately got nervous. You weren't used to being singled out, you always managed to stay below the radar. You'd figured out ways to stay out of sight out of mind after always being criticized by your family, so getting asked to stay back wasn't a normal thing. You braced yourself for the "you can do better speech" and hoped it wouldn't take too long. You watched as the room emptied and he gathered his stuff.

"Come on, lets step into my office." He said leading the way with his hands full. "Have a seat." he said motioning to the chair in front of his desk. you sat feeling butterflies in the pit of your stomach. Literally everyone would've given anything to be where you were. Mr. Kent was almost mythical. You didn't know a day where you didn't think 'DAMN that man know he fine!' And you knew he knew it.

"Bet you think I'm gonna talk about your grades." he chuckled. "While I do require your improvement,"

'Require?' you thought hoping your face didn't covey your attitude.

"I wanted to talk about something else."

"O-kay?"

"I've notice, you're very um...to yourself, is everything-"

'Oh there it is.'

"Mr. Kent, please don't analyze me. I am a whole different breed of human. I don't do people."

"I'm sorry?" he asked tilting his head.

"I just value my alone time. You can't have that with people."

"You can still have space with other people in your life." he said shaking his head at you.

"I didn't say space, I said alone time, and that's not the same. That's still with people. Like, no." you said crossing you arms.

He stared at your for a second, the he began to laugh, and rub his eyes. "You really are something."

"Mm-hmm its true."

"I'm just saying its healthy to get out and socialize every once and awhile, not all the time, I mean-don't you get lonely sometimes?

"No, not really. I mean don't give me wrong I'm human. I get the urge to hang out, then I do, then I remember why I didn't want to do it in the first place." you said realizing you were almost ranting. He eyed you as if he didn't believe you.

"I tell you what, I know you say you're fine, but for my sanity, can we be friends? You know just someone to check on you, make sure you're okay? If-if you hate it by the end of the week then I'll let it go."

"Mr. Kent, no offense, but why do you care? I mean, you have your own life, I'm sure you got a nice family you should be there for, so like....I'm gonna need a it all to make sense."

"Its mean, don't get me wrong I enjoy solitude too, and its not because I don't like people," he chuckled, "but I know what its like to sometimes need someone I could just talk to when I really needed it most and not having it. I wouldn't wish that on my worst enemy. Its funny because it would always lead me home."

"Well that's the difference between you and me, there is no going back." you sighed. You contemplated it 'It couldn't hurt could it?' "Okay."

"Okay?"

"We can be friends." you resigned.

"Great!" he said clapping his hands together.

"Only til the end of the week." You said standing stretching. "So we good? Can I go?"

"Actually, what are you doing tonight? I mean, my ma is cooking dinner and-"

"Okay anything food related, I'm down." You cut him off.

"Good, well I'll pick you up at 6?"

"Yeah sure." You said trying to get away.

"Uh, Y/n?"

"Yes?" You asked sweetly.

"I'm going to need your address." He said knowing you knew he needed it.

You gave you your information and booked it out of there. You immediately went home and took a nap. The whole ordeal was a bit draining for you.

It was your phones constant vibrating that woke you out of a deep sleep. You let it ring a few more times before picking it up.

"What?" You groaned into the phone.

"Y/n are ready? I'm like 15 minutes away." Mr. Kent asked.

"Ready for what?"

"Food?"

"Food? Food! Oh shit!" You said jumping up remembering dinner plans. "I'll be ready when you get here." You said quickly hanging up and rushing to get ready. By the time you felt you looked decent enough, he called and told he was there. When you walked out to meet him, you saw his girlfriend was with him and you put on a small smile. 'Of course he has a girlfriend, why wouldn't he. Still a bummer though, oh well.' you thought to yourself as you walked toward them.

"Y/n this is Lois, Lois this is Y/n. Lois is one of the top editors at the Daily Planet." He bragged, and you immediately got nervous. You'd read her work and you'd give to be as good, even better at writing.

"It really is nice to meet you, Clark speaks very highly of you and your writing." she said smiling.

"Really? I mean writing is my passion, I'm aspiring to get at least in the door. I'm not an editor or professor, but I think I'm okay." You said realizing you were babbling on because of your anxiety.

"Be confident in your work. It shows when you really mean what you're writing about. It also shows when you're doubting yourself." She said smiling at you. You immediately liked her and hoped to get to know her for advice sometime. You all got in and they fell into easy chatter along the way. Every now and again they'd touch on a topic you'd find interesting or be excited about, and you'd really get into it, smiling and being expressive. You'd catch Clark staring at you, a bit shocked at how much you had to say after months of being so quiet, and you'd retreat like a turtle back into your shell. You tried to not enjoy being around them, but every now and again, you liked talking to people on your level. Every now and again, you'd get lost in the breeze of the night air. You'd look out and get lost looking at the stars and the moon out of the open window of the moving car. You get so lost you forgot the other two people in the car and you'd miss the glances Clark took at you through the rearview mirror. When you all arrived at his moms farm you practically gawked at all the land around. You driven by open field and corn fields, you'd never actually gotten to see it up close.

As you all got out, his mom stepped out and waved at you.

"Well, looks like we got extra family tonight." she said smiling. You immediately felt a bit awkward. "Oh dear don't be shy, any friend of Clark is family." She said pulling you into a big hug.

"Thank you for having me Mrs. Kent." You said smiling.

"No go on now you just call me Martha." she said smiling and leading you inside. "You two come along, you know the routine." She said waving Lois and Clark inside. Dinner was great, you even found yourself laughing out loud. It exhilarated you and scared you to have such a good time around other people. You almost, ALMOST, didn't want the night to end, but you missed your bed. As if reading your mind, Clark announced it was time to leave.

"Looks like someone is ready for bed." He chuckled.

"Yep, I miss my solitude." You said stretching. Clark shook his head at you.

"What?" You asked innocently.

You said your final farewells and got in the car heading home. The ride home was peaceful, there was a calm silence between you three and you smiled watching the love exchanges between the two. You could see how much he loved her and you could understand why, Lois was beautiful woman. Your mind jumped from reasons you weren't in a relationship, to the assignment Clark had given you for the weekend. One thing you like about yourself? That topic was always hard for you and you couldn't even begin to find the words to start. Over the years you'd tried hard to accept yourself, love yourself, and be who you were unapologetically, but the moment you got to the threshold of truly giving yourself a chance, all of the criticism, judgment, and years of being invalidated filled you with fear and dread and you'd go back to your shell and do what you did best. Stay in your own bubble. Tears stung your eyes as you tried to stomp down the voices of doubt and resentment, 'It's okay, I'm good, I do what I have to and I'm happy with it. I'm at peace.' you thought to yourself over and over.

"You okay?" Clarks deep voice full of concerned pulled you from your thoughts and you shook you head to bring yourself back to reality.

"Yeah, just trying to stay awake." you said avoiding his gaze. The ride continued in silence and you couldn't help but drift off. One moment you were letting the ride soothe you to sleep and the next you heard a voice cooing you to sleep.

"Shh shh shh it's okay" Clark whispered. You couldn't help but cover your eyes. You were in Clark's arms as he carried you to the apartment.

"Woah," you said trying to get out of his arms. He gently placed you on your feet like a flower.

"Hey, its okay, calm down." He said gently rubbing your arms.

"S-sorry, I've just never-"

"Had anyone carry you before." He said finishing your sentence. You shifted feeling a bit awkward.

"Well, thanks for dinner. Thanks Lois!" You waved at her before going to your door. "Goodnight." you said one last time as you got inside. During the weekend you were extremely restless and was finding it hard to concentrate long enough to work on your assignment. Even when you sat waiting for words to form in your mind you eventually got busy doing something different. The night before class, you had an idea pop in your head, and you decided to go for it. You just hoped it would all make sense, it was the only think your mind focused on.

#dark clark kent #x black reader #plus size reader #smut fic

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fbfh · 3 years

Text

I think you've horribly misread the situation [shitty roommate pt 2] - leo x reader

wc: 2.3k

genre: contemporary drama, you're definitly going to get second hand embarrassment, cozy fluff

pairing: leo x reader, attempted isabella x leo

reader: gender neutral, they/them

requested: hell yeah

warnings: mild swearing, roommate tries to steal your man once again, mentions of various mainstream vampire media (twilight, the vampire diaries etc.), brief mention of castlevania (even though i haven't seen it yet lol), breif mention of videogames and assassins creed, very mild delusion (roommate is secretly convinced leo is a vampire that's in love with her), attempted age gap relationship (she's 17 and leo's 19, he shuts that down real fast), very bad poetry

summary: You and Leo are both looking foward to spending a long weekend together, and Leo is determined not to let anything interrupt it, even if it means turning down your roommate's attempts to seduce him in the kitchen.

a/n: absolutley no hate or shade or judgement to anyone who has the same or similar traits as isabella!!!!!! at her core she's annoying because she's the antagonist, not bc of any isolated trait or traits

also she's shitty cause she keeps trying to steal your boyfriend?????

Edit: I forgot to mention before, but this is a college au where you're both still demigods, so you went to camp and on quests and stuff together

This weekend is going to be all about recharging. Recharging from the ridiculous back to back closing and opening shifts at work, recharging from having to redo that stupid project twice because your professor couldn’t decide on a clear way to define the criteria, and recharging from Isabella having her townie friend Regan over almost non stop to “completely shake up her look” as she put it.

Between the constant presence of someone you’d barely consider an acquaintance and Big Time Rush’s self titled album blasting on repeat out of her giant airpod shaped speaker, it’s been harder than usual to get in some effective self care. You have no idea how many more times you can hear the phrase “I’m going for Jade West meets Elena Gilbert, with just a little Buffy Summers” before you lose your fucking mind.

Thankfully, the hard part is almost over. There’s some minor holiday tomorrow on friday, so you and Leo both have a three day weekend ahead of you, which you intend to spend entirely together. You planned ahead, frontloading homework, chores, errands, and everything you could think of to remove anything that isn’t cuddling or playing video games and watching netflix together from your horizon.

This includes going straight from work to the grocery store to stock the fridge and get any snacks you and Leo want. You had texted him a while ago asking for anything he was craving, and head into the store with a concrete list. After a while, you circle around some aisles, avoiding the check out.

“I feel like I’m forgetting something,” you muse, knowing it’s untrue, but hoping to trigger a memory anyway. You can’t put it off any longer, finally checking out and heading back to your apartment. You’d be lying if you said you weren’t avoiding Isabella just a little.

You know bringing in all these groceries would be way easier with Isabella and possibly Regan’s help, but you just don’t have the social energy to talk to anyone, much less her, right now. By some miracle, you bring everything in yourself, and hope to get it put away before you see Isabella.

You turn to the freezer, putting away the ice cream. When you turn back around, you’re suddenly met face to face with Isabella, who has opened one of the boxes and is picking at a pastry.

“Hey girlie,” she says, elongating the hey.

“Hey,” you reply lethargically, putting the last of the groceries away. She looks at the pastry in her hand like she’s just noticing it.

“Sorry, I can’t help it, I’m italian.” She smiles, endeared by her own behavior. You have no idea what being italian has to do with asking before you open a box of your roommate’s food, but this really isn’t out of character for her. She brings up the fact that she’s half italian more than Lele Pons blames her behavior on being latina.

She’s wearing sweatpants that say chaser on the leg in red and gold varsity font, and a tight tee shirt that says “it’s okay to love them both” with silhouettes of the male love interests from one of the vampire shows she always watches. You collect the plastic bags to put in recycling, and see a piece of paper on the counter.

It reads as follows:

Drowning in my mind

No one hears me cry

Who was I before society

Before society put me in a pink dress

And handed me blonde hair dye

And told me to lose ten pounds or be labeled a freak?

The happiest people cry the most

Let the lyrics be your story

But I’m not like the other skinny blonde pretty girls

I’m

Different

-b.g. xox

You hold back a sigh.

“I think this is yours.” you say, handing it to her.

“Oh, it’s just some of my poetry I left lying around, that’s so embarrassing.”

I know, you think, you do that all the time.

“Did you read it?” She asks, hopefully.

“Nope.”

“Thank god, that would have been so embarrassing. My poetry is something really… deep, and personal to me.”

“Uh huh. Hey, I’m going to be doing a lot of self care this weekend, so-”

“Oh!” she interjects, eerily similar to Phoebe Buffay - you guess she’s been watching friends again - “I wanted to ask… is Leo coming over later?” Her voice is riddled with subtext, the expression on her face a little too invested in your answer.

“Uh, yeah. I told you the other day we’re spending the weekend together…”

She cuts you off again, a sudden, intense look on her face.

“When will he be here?”

You check your phone, scrolling through your recent texts.

“By 7 at the latest.” It’s around 6:40 now.

“Oh my god, I have to change,” she rushes back to her room, presumably digging through her recent additions to her closet.

You’re frozen for a minute after the interaction, left with a furrowed brow and the beginnings of a headache. You blink, then choose to reschedule processing why she feels the need to change for your boyfriend to a more convenient time. That’s enough of that for today. You don’t care what else happens, you’re not talking to anyone besides Leo for at least the rest of the day. You retreat to your room to finally shower and change into something comfy. As you pass by Isabella’s room, you hear her talking to Regan.

“...There’s something almost… supernatural about him.”

You bite back a laugh.

“Do you think he’s a…” Regan begins, ending the sentence with something too quiet to hear, but you’d bet almost any organ she said vampire.

So close. So, so close, and yet… here you are.

Not much later, Leo texts you to let you know he’s here. You read his text, and run out to hug him in the living room before even typing a reply. He picks you up, and spins you around. The embrace is warm and fulfilling and familiar, and you wish it would last forever.

“Hi, Sparky.” you murmur into his neck.

“Estrella…” he says, rocking you back and forth gently and pressing a kiss into your jawline, “I missed you so much.” He punctuates the sentence with another kiss, this one to your lips, and you smile more genuinely than you have all day. You’re about to agree when you remember the good news you’ve been saving to tell him in person.

“Guess what I got on sale for like, half off,” you start, excitedly, continuing at his invested expression, “the Assassin’s Creed bundle I showed you!”

“No way,” he starts, and you nod.

“I’ll go get everything set up, drinks are in the kitchen!” He watches you retreat into your room, disbelieving how he could possibly get someone as perfect as you to fall for him. He’s not going to question his luck. He grabs a couple caffeinated sparkling ices, and meets you in your room, setting down his bag and grabbing some comfy clothes to change into.

As you both get settled in, you fill each other in on all the ridiculous shit you’ve been through this week. You finally conclude the bizarre - yet somehow standard - Isabella escapades.

“So I will be avoiding all contact as much as possible,” you laugh.

“Yeah, no shit,” he agrees, “Consider me your human buffer.” You thank him, hugging him again and pressing a kiss to his lips.

The next couple hours are spent cuddling and finishing season 4 of Castlevania. Both reeling from the season finale, you agree this is a good place to take a break, get some food, and decide what game you should start with. It’s already 10pm, which most people would consider too late for dinner, but you have all weekend to fuck up your sleep schedules.

“Let’s review,” Isabella says, holding up two red lipsticks. She turns to Regan. “Which one?”

“That one,” Regan says, pointing to the one on the left, then turns to her list, and continues. “Here’s what we know; we’ve never seen him eat, and he never seems tired. He’s really smart-”

“Almost too smart,” Isabella adds, selecting black rose dangle earrings from her jewelry. Regan agrees, and continues.

“He’s almost hypnotically attractive, and his smile is a little too dazzling.”

“There’s something… supernatural about him. Like he’s not… all human.”

Regan writes this down.

“Plus he’s always wearing black and red, and those flowy button up shirts? It’s all adding up, Ree. That dream that someone was outside my window, the ring, everything…” She says, referencing the black and red cocktail ring she’d found with her stuff when she’d first moved, “I’m not saying it’s definite, just that… there’s a chance.”

“What about…” Regan says hesitantly, nodding toward your room.

“Please,” she scoffs, “he’s only with them to get close to me, like Damon and Caroline. Edward couldn’t have just approached Bella out of the blue, he had to infiltrate her friend group first, to seem less suspicious. Not to sound mean or anything, but they really don’t seem like the type someone… like him… would choose.” her voice gets dreamy when she mentions him.

In spite of having seen most mainstream vampire media almost as many times as Isabella, Regan still considers her the expert on these things, and decides not to point out that Edward didn’t infiltrate Bella’s friend group. Maybe it comes up in one of the retellings she hasn’t read yet.

“So, what now?”

Isabella sets down her lipstick, and turns to her friend.

“I tell him.”

Regan’s eyes widen.

“You’re going to tell him you know?”

“No… not yet. It’s too soon, we don’t have enough evidence. I’m going to tell him I know he’s in love with me, then once he’s secure in our relationship... we’ll see where it goes.”

She stands up, assessing herself in the mirror. She chose her outfit carefully; short red dress with black roses and black mesh collar, black rose bracelet to match her earrings, snug faux leather jacket, and black stiletto ankle booties with a very skinny heel, the zipper on the outside gold, not silver. She fluffs her wavy hair and turns towards the door. She looks back one more time, holding onto the doorway.

“Wish me luck.”

Leo enters the kitchen, seeing Isabella already there, leaning against the counter seductively. She’s wearing an outfit and jewelry this late at night that makes Leo wonder if she’s going to an emo tea party. He puts the takeout in the microwave. She’s still staring at him.

“Uh… hey.”

She lets out a dainty giggle, looking him up and down.

“... Hi.”

At a loss for words, and really wanting the awkward silence to be over, he continues, “Did you need something?”

“What I need,” she walks closer to him, tracing her finger over his collar, “is you.”

What the fuck?

His brain seems to stall for a moment, and she uses this opportunity to continue.

“I know why you’re here. I know that you’re only using them to get closer to me. I know-”

“Woah-”

“That you’re in love with me.”

Okay, double what the fuck.

She takes his stunned silence as shyness, and steps closer, putting her arms around his shoulders.

“You don’t need to play so coy, I-”

This time she’s the one that gets cut off. He grabs her arms and gently steps away, trying to make it abundantly clear that he’s not into this.

“Woah, okay, slow down. First of all, you’re 17 and I’m turning 20 in a couple months, so that’s a hard no. Second, I don’t know where you got this idea, but I am not dating them to get closer to you. We’ve known each other since we were like, 15, and have been through everything together. I’ve only known you for a couple months. I love them. Probably more than I’ve loved anything ever. I thought that was pretty obvious.”

He doesn’t want to be mean, he really doesn’t, but he can tell from the look on her face that she still thinks this is all part of some game.

“So why don’t I ever see you eat? Why are you so smart, and always up at night? I know what you are.”

He has to physically hold back a laugh. He takes a step back, and places his hands on the counter.

“Isabella, I have adhd. And I’m literally an engineering student. Why wouldn’t I be smart and have a shitty sleep schedule?”

She starts to protest, and he pulls out the reheated take out from the microwave.

“And for the record, I do eat.”

Exiting the kitchen quickly and retreating back to your room, he hands you your food.

“I got the game set up!” you say excitedly.

“Nice!”

You take one look at his face and can tell something happened. He sees this, and continues.

“I just had a very… interesting interaction with Isabella,” before he finishes the sentence, your head is already in your hands. You let out a groan.

“What did she do?” you mutter from behind your hands.

He pulls you into his lap, rubbing your back.

“I’m not totally sure,” you laugh, “but I think she thinks I’m secretly in love with her…” you’re both laughing before he can even finish the sentence.

“No…” you laugh, “no fucking way…”

“Believe me, I put an end to that as soon as it started.”

“Oh, I do.”

He runs his hand over your back, and you’re quiet for a moment.

“You know,” he continues, “I think getting our own place has definitely moved up the priority list.”

You couldn’t agree more.

#leo valdez x reader #leo x reader #leo valdez #leo valdez imagine #heroes of olympus #heroes of olympus x reader

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flowerwrites06 · 3 years

Text

deathly dry spell — jjk

Plot: When Taehyung is away for months on a trip in the peak of winter, alternative methods of keeping a succubus pleased comes into play.

Pairing(s): Jungkook x Succubus!OC (Name: Belle) ft. Boyfriend Taehyung

Rating: G | PG | M | R 18+

Type: Drabble | Oneshot | Two Parter | Series

Word Count: 2k+

Genre: Succubus AU | Roommate AU | PWP

Tags & Warnings: explicit smut, spanking, squirting, unsafe sex, coarse language, succubus being angry horny

Authors Note: idk what’s happening with my writing streak lately but I’m kind of just going with the flow and hoping you all like it lmao let me know what you think!

Another frustrating morning. Belle had taken pills to suppress some of the aching in between her legs but they were only aggravating the hunger. Even her ivory horns began to ache from the increasing frustration and her breasts felt tender than ever before. Winter was always the worst time for her to be away from him. The grey sky framed by the apartment windows and cool atmosphere stinging her flesh made her desperate for warmth. No. Heat. She wanted burning heat everywhere.

“I’m going to be gone a couple of months, sweetheart,” Taehyungs’ voice crackled through the speaker.

“Months?” Belles’ dark brows furrowed looking through the computer screen as her boyfriend delivered the disturbing news. His curls were messy and a loose shirt draped over his body, making her heat up between her legs even more. In turn, increasing her frustration towards him for being so far apart.

If it were a normal relationship with two humans then they would probably just be very saddened. Unfortunately leaving your succubus girlfriend for a couple of months isn’t exactly safe. Especially if you’re desperate to want her faithful. She let out a deep sigh, staring out again at the heavily clouded sky. It was probably going to snow a lot this winter. She clamped her thighs together, cuddled into a crème blanket. “Tae—I can’t.” She buried her lips into the fluffy material. “Maybe I could come visit you.”

“You know why you can’t visit me here.” Taehyung didn’t sound too happy about the ordeal either but Belle had too much on her mind to feel bad for him. “These idiots don’t like magical creatures and you’ll be in danger.”

“But I can’t—”

“I had a suggestion.”

Belle blinked curiously. “What?”

Taehyung bit down his bottom lip, unsure of the thoughts rushing through his mind. “If you start feeling pain or sick at all—Jungkook could—”

“No.”

“You know it can’t be negotiated.”

“No!” she winced.

Taehyung sighed. “Baby…I can’t have you in pain.”

“Well that’s just you have to live with for leaving me.” She sniffled, scrunching her nose as the cold stung her. “Does Jungkook even know about your decision?”

“I kind of mentioned it to him.” Taehyung scratched the back of his head.

Belle’s eyes burned into him. She understood that there was no other choice if she wanted to survive the winter. But to take part in this pact felt so wrong. “So you just discussed it like it was some kind of business transaction.” Her feelings were indifferent. Some part of her still wanted to pretend that she was against it. Succubi were always known to become disloyal to their partners. If she took part in this thing, she’d be one of them.

“You—” Sadness spread across Taehyungs’ face; eyes glossed and features twisted in pain. “—you’ll die. Please…I want to come back home to you alive and well.”

Belles’ expression softened, tightening the blanket around her as she averted her gaze. “I’ll think about it.”

“Thank you.”

It kept getting colder and her body kept getting painful. Belle didn’t remember the last moment she sat still. Not having to squirm somehow to be comfortable. Spending nights rubbing against pillows to get some kind of tension but only sleeping with tears filling her eyes. This morning wasn’t helping her mood either when Jungkook made food for the both of them to eat.

Belle hadn’t talked to him ever since the call with Taehyung. Except that didn’t mean Jungkook stopped making an effort to keep some kind of interaction going. Forcing a dinner on them was one of his genius attempts.

Roasted potatoes, chicken curry, spinach paste and a blueberry pie. Hearty enough meals for Belle to sustain herself when she couldn’t be filled in other ways. The scent suffused the cool air, making it homely and comforting. In her stubbornness though, Belle leaned back on the chair as Jungkook tried to start a conversation.

“You’re just not going to talk to me.” Jungkook shook his head.

Belle folded her arms over her chest refusing to eat a morsel of food. It smelled delicious to a point where it could even make her mouth water.

“Look I know you’re hungry.” He gestured to the meal. “If you’re not going to do it the way you have to at least eat the way humans do.”

Belle glared at him. “Don’t act like this is an inconvenience to you. I didn’t ask for your goddamn help!” She never snapped at Jungkook. Or anyone for that matter. Then again, she hadn’t gone this long from getting her sustenance.

“It’s not an inconvenience. I don’t want to see a friend hurt like this.”

“But you’re willing to treat me like a bet in a club.”

Jungkooks’ expression hardened. “Sex means life and death to you, does it or does it not?”

Belle pressed her lips together. “Yes,” she muttered.

“Then why the hell would we not take it seriously?” He stabbed the fork into the chicken. “I can’t force you to get what you need. But I’m sure as hell not letting you leave until you eat something.”

She wanted to stay relentless and keep her arms folded. Except the meal might help sleep at night better at the very best. With a defeated sigh, she relaxed herself and began to eat.

“Stop squirming,” Jungkook said.

Belle scoffed, slouching on the couch after a good hour of trying to get into a comfortable position. Even the winter chills were turning into mere summer breezes from the way her body kept heating up. It was strange to have light snow falling outside and her body was adorned with a nightie. “I can’t get comfortable, alright? If you don’t like it, just go to your room.”

“This is my apartment too.”

“And you have a TV in your room.”

“But I want to be here.”

“Then stop complaining.” Belle shifted when the pooling between her legs was getting heavier.

Jungkook scoffed, raking his fingers through his hair roughly. “You know, I didn’t realize you had the potential to be such a bitch.”

“Well, we’re learning a lot of things, aren’t we?” Belle smiled bitterly. “Like how you have absolutely no patience whatsoever.”

“Sorry I’m not Taehyung keeping check on you like you’re a toddler.”

Thick scents of amber suffused the air and taunted Jungkooks’ nostrils. He tried not to scrunch his nose too much but it was strange not smelling the usual jasmine scent from her body.

“Just cause I don’t function like you humans doesn’t mean you get to demean my needs.” Belles’ voice had gotten deeper, eyes burning in anger and frustration. “Especially you. Acting like the nice best friend to Taehyung for months on end but the moment you have time alone with me, you act like I don’t exist. You’re no different than those people Taehyung works with—”

Jungkook grabbed the back of her neck and pressed a kiss on her lips. The desperately loyal part of Belle screamed to pull away. But whenever she tried, the warmth of another’s lips and the grip on her neck only caused her to whimper. He pulled away then. Chests rising and falling in the new brewing heat.

Belle hated her body for trying to grab onto him again. She tried to muster a frown. “Did you just do that to shut me up?”

“I can’t watch you ruin yourself.” Jungkook tightened his grip into her hair. “So please, for the love of god, fuck me.”

Like a trigger pulled on a gun, Belle pounced on the male, lips crashing against each other as her hands moved down to pull her panties off. She threw the flimsy material on the floor without a care before moving to straddle the male on the couch.

Jungkook pushed down his sweatpants and boxers, bare skin meeting the soft surface of the couch.

Belle raised herself until she felt his tip position at her sloppy entrance. She slid down slowly, the almost nonexistent sleeve of her nightie slipping down her shoulders. Without waiting a second longer, Belle moved up and down his cock, snug walls hugging him perfectly. There was no more time to wait. She didn’t want to wait.

He pushed up her dress, kneading her ass and forcing her hips to grind against his own. “F-Fuck…”

Belle threw her head back, hands placed on the back of the couch. Her breasts bounced along with her movements, nipples peeking out a little.

Jungkook growled lightly wrapping his strong arms fully around her waist before pounding up in to her pussy. He moved at a dizzying pace, balls slapping against her ass like a round of applause.

The sounds drowned Belle’s choked screams infused in an overwhelming pleasure as his lower belly roughly rubbed against her clit. “O-god.” She whimpered, gripping at the couch pillow until she scratched one of them.

Slowing his thrusts down, he moved deep inside her, feeling his cock drowning in her arousal. Jungkook kept his hold and turned them around so she was on the couch instead.

She immediately spread her legs apart watching him lean in and drink in her leaking core. Her hand moved to his hair.

Tongue lapped at her clit as he snuck a finger prodding at her slit. Jungkook slid inside with so much ease that a moan emitted in his throat. Then he slid another. Her heat burned against his flesh. Curling his digits upward, he rubbed against the spot inside her. His thumb brushing against her clit, he drilled his fingers into her pussy.

Belle let out a small sob in between her moans. Nails digging into her thigh as she watched her pussy spluttering out her arousal onto his hands moving at lightning speed. The pleasure coiled in her lower belly; tightening beyond control.

Knuckles deep inside her, he felt it getting hotter and more sloppy causing his member to spurt more arousal onto the floor. “That’s right, baby…” He whispered, dipping down and wrapping his lips around her clit, suckling like his favourite treat as his fingers continued to pound into her.

Belle’s body shook like insanity embodied, the heat gathering in her lower belly almost unbearable as she felt a heaviness ready to burst. “I’m gonna cum, Kook—” She cried out, thrashing against the messed up pillows.

The coil then sprung out in a light gush of clear liquid, squirting out of her as Jungkook kept moving his fingers in and out while suckling on her throbbing clit. He felt wetness dripping down his hand, soaking into the couch but it only made him hungrier for more as he growled against her puffy, sensitive pussy.

Belle winced from a slight ache as he continued to go beyond her sensitive point. “Ah-Kook-“ She pushed him away gently causing him to chuckle a little.

“We’re not done yet, baby.” Jungkook smirked, picking her up again, off the couch and turning her around. He bent her over so her breasts pressed against the wet stain. “Look at the mess you made.”

Belle replied in a whimper, swaying her ass his way until she felt his leaking tip brush against her. The stamped down pleasure reignited quicker than her own body could handle it. She wanted more. A sharp pain swung on her ass cheek causing her to let out a throaty chuckle as she swayed again. Much to her pleasure, Jungkook landed another swing on her ass cheek much harsher than the first. “Do it again.”

Jungkook obliged, slapping it once again. His tip rubbed in between her blushing cheeks to gain some friction when he landed another smack. Pressing his sweat layered chest to her back, he jabbed his glistening fingers through her lips. He hungrily watched Belle suckle on her arousal. Jungkook took a cheeky moment to push it down her throat until she gagged. He pulled his fingers out and grabbed onto her neck. “You want more?”

“Yes,” Belle whispered, desperately swaying her hips to gain his fill again.

“Yeah?” Jungkook pushed his length in, moaning at how much her walls still closed in on him, pushing him further over the edge. Veined fists pressed against the couch, slamming his hips against hers.

Belle rested her cheek against the soaked fabric. The smell of her own arousal made her mad with ecstasy, light groans emitted in her throat, her lower belly tightening again. The couch shifted and creaked at every thrust as her legs lost all ability to move properly.

Jungkook growled as the heaviness in his lower belly became hard to control, screaming to release. “I’m coming…” He breathed out.

“Come inside me.” Belle reached behind her to grab the back of his neck. “Please, come inside me,” she cried out.

Forehead pressing against the top of her head, Jungkook gave into frantic thrusts. Pleasure burst out of him in a thickened wave. Fingers dug into the cushion as a shaky moan passed his lips.

Belle grinned in complete bliss as her orgasm pounded through her, knees trembling and her body convulsing until she swore she saw stars. So many days of keeping herself contained. The proper pleasure of Jungkook filling her up brought her to tears, dripping onto the already ruined couch cushions. She giggled through her light sobs.

“Hey—” Jungkook brushed her hair away from her sweat-layered temple. “You okay?”

“More than okay.” Belle grinned, sniffling. “Thank you.”

Jungkook chuckled. “First time I’ve heard that after sex.”

The rest of winter moved a lot smoother and warmer for Belle and Jungkook.

#jungkook #thebtswritersclub #jungkook fanfic #bts imagines #jungkook imagines #bts fanfic #bts smut #jungkook fanfiction #bts fanfiction #succubus au #bts succubus au #supernatural au #tw: smut #jungkook smut

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alwaysachorusgirl · 3 years

Text

Adoption Day

Pairing: Frederick Chilton x Female Reader

Word Count: 2089

For: Covers the Animal Shelter square for @adarafaelbarba 's fall moodboard bingo

TW: very brief mention of past childhood abuse and animal abandonment, but other than that, it's mostly fluff

Dedication: This is for the world's best cat mom, @madamsnape921 ,because it's her birthday! Go send her some birthday love today!

Author's Note: Jumping back a little in the Cat Daddy Frederick timeline to cover Buttercup's adoption story. Per my previously established continuity, this would take place in January, right after New Year's, and prior to "Not According to Plan"

Tags: @itsjustmyfantasyroom @prurientpuddlejumper @thatesqcrush @welcometothemxdhouse @raulesparza4eva @teamsladsandgents @rosequcrtz

The winter wind howled outside the window and snow drifted across the windowpanes, but inside Frederick Chilton’s ornate home you were safe and warm. No, our home, I live here now, you thought to yourself. You were still getting used to thinking of it as your home, too. You were unpacking the last of the boxes from your recent move. A fire was roaring in the living room fireplace, giving the room a cozy, comforting glow. You inhaled the aroma of the hearty vegetable stew that was cooking in the crockpot in the kitchen, and your stomach growled. You were going to need to take a dinner break soon, and as if he was reading your mind, Frederick entered the room and came over to where you were placing your books on the expansive built-in shelves.

“How goes it with the books? Do you need more shelf space? I can always move somethings into my office if you need more.”

“Thank you, Frederick, but don’t worry; I think I have more than enough. I am, however, getting rather hungry. I think it’s time we ate dinner, don’t you?

“I couldn’t agree more, my love, shall I set the table?” he asked, taking your hand, and helping you to your feet.

“Thank you, Frederick, that would be lovely.”

*****************

“This stew is fantastic, my love! We’ll most certainly have to use this recipe again.”

When you didn’t respond right away, Frederick started to worry and reached for your hand. “Darling?”

“Oh! Sorry! I zoned out for a moment, must be more tired than I thought; Thank you, Frederick, I have a whole slew of crock pot recipes that are perfect for cold winter days.”

“Y/N, are you alright? Have I done something wrong? Is it the house? Is there something you’re not happy with?”

“What? Oh, Frederick, no!” You squeezed his reassuringly. “You haven’t done anything wrong, my love, and the house is perfectly fine. It’s just…” you paused, not sure how to broach your thoughts.

“What is it? Whatever you need, I’ll make sure you have it! Cost is no object!”

You took a breath and tried to collect your thoughts. You loved cats, but your previous apartment had not allowed pets. You had promised yourself that when you eventually moved you would be a cat mom again. It had been far too long. But it was something that you and Frederick hadn’t discussed yet, and you had no idea what his feelings were on the subject.

“What did you think about getting a cat?” You blurted out, bracing yourself for what you were sure was going to be an argument.

It was now Frederick’s turn to go silent, taken aback by your unexpected query. He mulled it over in his head before answering.

“Honestly, my love, I’ve never thought about it before. I never had a pet of any kind growing up. My parents did not allow animals in the house.”

“Oh, Frederick, I’m so sorry, I didn’t know.” In theory, you knew you probably should have guessed that. You knew that Frederick’s father had been a hard, cruel man, and had been abusive toward Frederick and his mother. Frederick’s mother had been so worn down by it that she eventually shutdown, mentally and emotionally, and neglected to protect her son when he needed it the most. Of course, they hadn’t allowed pets, they hadn’t even allowed their son to have a normal childhood, or an ounce of happiness.

“My darling, you have nothing to apologize for,” said Frederick, placing soft kisses on the back of your hand. “If it’s a cat you want, then a cat you shall have. I’ll do some research after we finish here. Cats need supplies, right? Food, litter, toys, those fancy cat trees, cute little sweaters?”

****************

After dinner you and Frederick sat side-by-side on the couch with your laptops, him researching what kind of supplies you going to need to buy, and you were looking at your local SPCA’s website.

“Good god, I had no idea how many different types of cat litter there were!”

“Oh, Frederick, if you think that’s bad, wait until you see how competitive the cat food market is. Hmm…that’s interesting…”

“What is it?” asked Frederick, looking over at your laptop.

“This listing here,” you said, pointing at a blank gray box. “There should be a picture here, like there is for the other listings, but it’s blank. It says it’s supposed to be a 2-month-old black female…. hang on; I have an idea.”

You grabbed your phone off the coffee table and scrolled through your contacts until you found the name you were looking for. You hit “Call” and waited.

“Hello?” A voice finally picked up on the other end.

“Joanne! Hi! It’s Y/N. How are you?”

“I’m great, how are you? It’s been ages since the last time we hung out.”

“I’m good, and you’re right; it has been too long. Is this a good time to talk?”

“Sure! What’s up?”

“Do you still work for the county SPCA?”

“Oh, you bet I do! Oh my god, are you finally in the market to adopt?”

“Yes, I am, and I have a question about one of the cat listings on the website. The one that’s missing a picture?”

“Yes, I just noticed that a few hours ago. Our website person put that up prematurely. The kitten was just spayed, and normally we wait until the animal has had adequate recovery time before we add them to the site, but accidents happen. Last I checked, the little one is recovering nicely and should be ready to interact a couple days. She’s the sweetest thing. Someone dumped her in a cardboard box at our front door. She had a leg injury, but that’s also healing up. She loves to play, loves to cuddle, and I’ll think she’ll thrive in a good home. Would you like to make an appointment to see her?”

“Yes, I would! What time slots do you have available?”

*******************

A few days later, you and Frederick walked arm in arm into the county SPCA. Frederick had rush-ordered all the supplies you thought you’d need and then some. You both excited and nervous. You’d already taken a huge step by moving in together, and now you were adopting a pet. You looked over at Frederick and noticed the uncertainty in his eyes. He also seemed leaning on his cane for support. He always seemed to do that when he was unsure about something. You gave his arm a gentle squeeze and kissed his cheek.

“It’s going to be okay, Frederick, you’re to be a wonderful cat dad. I believe in you.”

Frederick blushed and placed a soft kiss on your temple.

“Thank you, my love, I appreciate your faith in me, even though I’m still not sure what’s done to deserve it, or you.”

Before you could respond to that, Joanne came out her office and rushed toward you.

“Y/N! It’s so good to see you!”

“It’s good to see you, too, Joanne.” You enveloped her in a big hug and then motioned to Frederick. “Joanne, this is Dr. Frederick Chilton, my Frederick.”

Frederick gave you the most loving of looks, and nearly melted into a puddle at your feet at sound of you referring to him as “your Frederick.”

“Nice to meet you, Dr. Chilton,” said Joanne, extending her hand.

“And you,” he replied, shaking hands.

“Well, I suppose you want to meet the little one; right this way!”

You and Frederick followed Joanne to cat section of the shelter. You walked past several cats, each one trying to get your attention from their enclosures. If you had your way, you’d take them all home, but you didn’t think Frederick was quite ready for that yet; but maybe one day…

“Here she is, “announced Joanne, stopping in front of one of the enclosures. A tiny black, fluffy kitten was inside, and her eyes lit up when she saw you. She was immediately on her feet, and you noticed she still had a slight limp in her injured leg, but she was full of energy and mewing incessantly. Joanne opened the door and carefully lifted her out. You reached out to take her, but the impatient kitten leapt out of Joanne’s hands and into your waiting arms.

“Oh! Hello! Hi baby, hi sweetheart,” you cooed.

“Mew, mew, mew!”

You looked into her eyes, and it was love at first sight. You did your best to hold onto her, shifting and adjusting your arms to accommodate her constant movement and attempts to climb up your shoulder. You gave her a little scratch between her ears and kissed her head. She was perfect.

“Mew! Mew!”

“Yes, baby, it’s okay, I’ve got you, I’ve got you.”

Frederick stood there watching you with the kitten, completely dumbstruck. Just when he thought he couldn’t fall anymore in love with you, you had to go and surprise him. You were a natural cat mom, cradling the tiny ball of fluff and talking to her like she was a human. He saw the kitten rub her nose against your chin and looked like she was giving you kisses. He also saw the look of pure love and joy on your face, and he lived for that, wanted to see that every day. He didn’t know anything about raising a cat, but for you, he would try.

**************

Joanne led you to a visitor’s room so that you and Frederick could spend some quality time getting to know the kitten. Frederick removed his coat and offered to take the kitten so that you could take off yours. You demonstrated how to hold the kitten and then handed her to Frederick. He held her close to chest and sat down.

“Mew?” the kitten looked up at him, confused as to who this new person was.

“It’s alright, little one, I’ve got you,” he tried to reassure her. A lock of his normally perfectly quaffed hair suddenly flopped in his face, and the kitten’s eyes grew wide.

“Mew?” she raised a paw and tentatively batted at Frederick’s hair. “Mew…”

“Oh, that’s adorable,” you said, plopping down next to them on a bean bag chair. You saw the smile on his face and nudged him with your elbow. “See? She likes you. And I think she wants to play.” You looked around the room and saw the toy boxes, filled with various dog and cat toys, but then something else caught your eye. “Frederick?”

“Yes, my love?”

“Hand her back to me and take off your scarf, please.”

He did as he was told. You carefully placed the kitten on the carpet and proceeded to dangle the scarf in front if her. Her eyes went wide again, and then she crouched, wiggled her backside, and pounced. Her little paws batted at the scarf, then she would roll around kick at it with her hind legs.

“It certainly looks like she’s enjoying herself,” Frederick chuckled. “So, what are we going to call her?”

“I was thinking ‘Buttercup”,” you said matter-of-factly.

“I am not the least bit surprised,” he replied, immediately picking up on your reference. He looked at the kitten. “Well, what do you think about that little one?”

“Mew?”

“Your name,” you told her, “Buttercup, do you like it?”

“Mew, mew.” She forgot about the scarf and crawled into your lap, kneading you with her paws.

“I think she likes it.” You threw Frederick a smile.

“Yes, I quite think she does. I have an idea, how about a story? Would you like that Buttercup?”

“Mew.” She replied with a yawn,

“Darling, if you check your bag, I believe you’ll find a book there.”

You checked your purse, and sure enough, in the largest section was a children’s book, one that you instantly recognized from your own childhood.

“If You Give A Mouse A Cookie?”

“It came highly recommended by the lady at the bookstore.”

“It’s perfect, Frederick.” You handed him the book and leaned your head against his knee. As he began to read, Buttercup curled up in your lap and shut her eyes, she was soon fast asleep, purring away. When he finished reading, Frederick caressed your cheek with hand to get your attention.

“So, shall we go find Joanne and make it official?”

“Yes,” you replied, gazing down at Buttercup, “If we don’t take her home today, I think I’ll cry.”

“Then let’s go fill out the paperwork and bring her home.”

#frederick chilton x reader #frederick chilton x female reader #frederick chilton #cat daddy frederick #frederick chilton imagines #hannibal #hannibal fanfiction #adarafaelbarbaseptmeberbingo #my writing

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multi-obsessed-fanfic-writer · 3 years

Text

Bet On It (Draco Malfoy x Reader)

Author’s Note: Hey!! Here’s a fun little Draco Malfoy fic. I love him and have been in the mood to write for him recently, so I cooked this up! I hope someone enjoys it :) And requests are open! Thanks :)

Summary: You’re the it girl of Hogwarts, and no man can seem to tie you down. Draco’s the it boy of Hogwarts, and no girl can seem to keep him long. What happens when Draco approaches you with a bet that could make or break your reputation?

Bet On It

Draco Malfoy x Reader

Word Count: 8,281

Warnings: a little bit of angst and a whole lot of fluff. like one mild curse?

“Look, it’s (Y/n).” You hear the whispers surround you as you walk to the Slytherin table in the Great Hall. This is a natural dinner-time occurrence since you are the most popular girl in school. You’re the player of the school, the girl who can get any guy and always drops them in the next couple of months and breaks their heart. It’s a reputation you love to uphold.

“Hey, girls.” You sit down next to your friends, flashing them all a blinding white smile. Every boy within a ten-foot radius swoons at the mere sight.

“Hey, (Y/n). How was potions today?” One of your friends asks, completely ignoring every boy nearby.

“It was alright. You know I don’t like Snape, so that’s never fun, but at least my potion didn’t blow up this time,” You chuckle, the smile never leaving your face. Part of your charm to boys is your natural confidence and kindness. Even though you have the reputation of a heartbreaker, you’re still kind to everyone. It’s an odd dynamic, but it’s the dynamic you’re known for.

“Hey, (Y/n).” A boy sits down next to you. You’re not quite surprised, just startled. You turn to see Harry Potter next to you, a smile donning his face at seeing you. You smile in return.

“Hi, Harry.” You turn to face him. You had already been down this road before. You dated Harry in sixth year, and it’s currently seventh year. Maybe he thought time would change things, but it hasn’t for you.

“How was your day?” He asks, fiddling with his hands in his lap. You feel bad for making the poor boy so nervous, so you try to be as casual as possible. You’re still human, after all.

“It was decent. We had potions together today, right?” You hum, turning slightly to your plate to eat a bit as you chat.

“Yeah, we did!” Harry brightens at the fact that you noticed him in class. You give him a polite smile.

“Well, you know how Snape can be. You’re not the only one who doesn’t like him,” You say, a small laugh escaping your lips. Harry looks triumphant at your laugh in the conversation.

“Yeah, I get it. He’s a pain.” He runs a hand through his already messy hair. As much as you enjoy a pleasant conversation with someone every once in a while, you really wanted to get going. You needed to get to the astronomy tower for some alone time. Boys had been hanging off of you all day long and you’re looking forward to a much-needed break.

“Indeed, he is. Now, if you’ll excuse me, I need to go. I’m terribly sorry, but I’m feeling the beginnings of a headache and I’d like to lie down.” You smile pleasantly at him and stand up from your seat. You had finished your food quickly so you could go to the astronomy tower sooner.

“Oh, of course. I’ll see you around, (Y/n).” Harry gets up and heads over to Ron and Hermione, talking animatedly to them as he arrives. Ron’s ears perk up at something he says and he immediately gets up and walks over to you on your way out.

“(Y/n)!” Ron grins at you as you approach the door to the Great Hall.

“Hello, Ron.” You smile politely again. This was tiring every day.

“I heard you have a headache. Do you need any assistance?” He asks, real concern swimming in his eyes. You chuckle softly.

“No, but thank you, Ron. You’re very sweet for asking.” You brush past him in the politest way possible. You had dated Ron just a little bit before Harry in sixth year, and he was as persistent as anyone to get back together with you. Before Ron, you had even dated Fred, George, and Cedric back in fourth and fifth year. Like you said before, you’ve dated quite a bit and you’re always the one to break up with them.

Once you’re past Ron, you make a beeline for the astronomy tower. No one stops you on the way.

Once you arrive at the top of the astronomy tower, you finally let your guard down and relax. You look up at the stars, closing your eyes and relishing in the moment alone. That is, until you hear a voice next to you.

“Needed to get away?”

You whip around, seeing Draco Malfoy sitting in the corner, likely annoyed that you had shown up. Draco’s one of the few, if not the only, boy in Hogwarts who isn’t throwing himself at you at any given moment. You hadn’t talked to him much, but you also didn’t plan on it in case he turned out like the rest.

“Yes. Sorry for bothering you.” You scramble to stand up. Draco shrugs.

“Suit yourself, leave if you want. I’m not one of your fanboys, though, so if you stay I’m not going to try and endlessly chatter with you. I’m here for peace and quiet, too.” His voice seems offended that you immediately wanted to leave, likely because you thought of him as a “fanboy.”

“Right. I suppose I’ll stay, then.” You sit back down, relaxing slightly when he doesn’t make a move to continue the conversation.

You decide to test the waters after a few moments of silence.

“So, why are you up here?” You hum, looking up at the sky instead of at him. He grunts in annoyance.

“For peace and quiet, didn’t you hear me the first time?” He grumbles, obviously annoyed that you’re disturbing his peace. You chuckle. You’re not used to this reaction from guys, so this is a nice change for you.

“I did. Just wanted to see if you’d change your answer, that’s all.”

“Change it to what? Because I wanted to see you? Please, I’m not one of your meddling nosey little--”

“Fanboys?”

“Yes.”

“I bet you would be.” You smirk, finally looking over at him. He looks like you just slapped him across the face.

“Excuse me?” He growls, annoyance spreading across his features.

“You would be. If you knew me.” You smirked. You’re not sure where this arrogant confidence came from, you would never dare talk to another boy like this.

“Yeah, right. I bet I’d have you groveling at my feet before I fell for you.” He scoffs, crossing his arms.

“Not true. I’d break up with you like every other guy I’ve dated.” You sigh, looking away again.

“Is that a challenge?” Draco asks, standing to his feet and walking over to you. You hate how he looks down upon you, so you stand up in front of him.

“And what if it is?” You quirk an eyebrow, suddenly intrigued by the conversation.

“Let’s make a bet, then, shall we? Whoever falls in love first loses and gets broken up with.” He holds out his hand for you to shake. You look down at it.

“And what does the winner gain?” You ask, eyeing his hand cautiously.

“The satisfaction of humiliating the other person, being right, and ruining their player reputation in school.” He states matter-of-factly. You narrow your eyes at him.

“And the conditions? What are we doing exactly?” You ask.

“Well, that’s easy. We’ll be a couple. We will date until one of us falls in love, which will be you, and I’ll break up with you.” He smirks arrogantly. You grab his hand and give it a firm shake.

“You’re on. I won’t lose this bet.” You scoff, letting go of his hand immediately after. He chuckles.

“I wouldn’t be so sure about that, darling.” He lets the pet name roll off his tongue gracefully, annoying you. He walks down the stairs of the astronomy tower, a new pep in his step. If he’s already using pet names then he’s going to fall for you so much harder and faster than you would for him.

Oh, yeah. You’ve got this in the bag.

~+~

You walk down the hallway to your next class, hips swaying absentmindedly as you carry your books. You ignore the whispers around you, silently wishing that people would stop talking about you behind your back. Whether it’s good or bad things, you’ve always been talked about. It’s been getting on your nerves lately.

“Hey, (Y/n), is it true?” One of your friends sidles next to you, matching your pace down the hall. You furrow your brows.

“Is what true?” You ask, turning slightly to look at her.

“That you’re dating Draco now,” She states matter-of-factly. You deadpan. Right, you had almost forgotten about the stupid bet you made with that slimeball.

“It...is.” You force a sweet smile onto your face as if you’re happy about dating Draco of all people.

“Wow. I never took him for your type, but I’m happy for you! Although, I know other people aren’t so optimistic…” She trails off, frowning. The smile almost immediately drops from your face.

“Oh? And what do you mean by that?” You hum, pretending to care. You honestly don’t give a crap about who likes or doesn’t like your relationship, because you have half a mind to tell everyone that you don’t like it either. But that would be forfeiting.

And you’re no quitter by any means.

“Oh, well I just mean some of our other friends who had a crush on Draco. They won’t be happy. And also...Pansy. But you can take her! I have full confidence in you.” Your friend pats you on the shoulder, a small yet nervous smile resting on her face. You frown.

“Take her? What do you mean? She’s a just another girl, what could she do--”

“(Y/n) (Y/l/n),” You hear your name shrieked down the hallway. Your head swivels to see Pansy Parkinson standing at the end of a hallway branching off to your right. You internally sigh. Of course, at the moment you’re on the verge of saying she’s no big deal, she shows up.

You look back to your friend only to see that she’s already gone. So much for backup.

“Hi, Parkinson.” You deadpan, continuing your walk to class. Only a little bit left to go before you’re at potions class.

“So, tell me, is the rumor true?” She matches your pace much like your friend did, except her footsteps are more akin to stomps than anything.

“That I’m dating Malfoy--”

“Yes, that you’re dating Draco!” She interrupts you with her horribly shrill voice. You clench your jaw in annoyance until you see the potions classroom coming up.

“I’ll let you figure it out for yourself, Pansy. See you around.” You suddenly duck into the potions classroom, looking triumphant for getting rid of her so easily. She wouldn’t dare yell at you while in the presence of Snape, mostly because he already finds her annoying and doesn’t seem to mind you so he’d probably give her detention.

“(Y/l/n), care to have a seat?” Snape asks you, one brow arched at your arrival. You realize that you’ve just barely made it to class on time, and everyone is already in their seats. Good thing Snape doesn’t already hate you.

“Yes, sorry.” You timidly look around for the remaining seat and making your way toward it.

Oh, great. Look who it’s next to.

“Glad you could finally join us, darling,” Draco says, smiling maliciously at you. You roll your eyes and sit down.

“Says you, Malfoy.” You groan, taking out your potions book. Draco tsks next to you.

“Calling your boyfriend by his last name? If I didn’t know any better, I’d say you don’t like me.” He sneers. You shoot him a glare.

“If I didn’t know any better, I’d say you’re taunting me.” You growl.

“Malfoy, (Y/l/n), are you listening?” Snape eyes the two of you, anger evident in his posture and tone. You duck your head, embarrassed.

“Yes, professor,” You and Draco murmur. Surprisingly, Snape lets it slide this time.

“You’re lucky you were talking to me. Otherwise, you’d be in big trouble.” Draco smirks at you.

“And what does that mean?” You whisper back.

“I’m a Malfoy. I don’t get in trouble. For hardly anything.” He winks at you.

“Oh, shut up and listen.” You hiss.

“If you insist, darling.”

~+~

Things had been going...amicably, to say the most. You’ve been “dating” Draco for about two weeks at this point. Your first tactic was to just hate Draco and then you’d never fall in love, but it was easy to see that it wasn’t going to work. First of all, you may not fall in love with him, but….he also wasn’t going to fall in love with you that way, either. So you decided to switch things up a bit starting today.

“Hey, baby.” You smile and sit down next to Draco in the Great Hall. It’s lunchtime and you cannot wait to throw him off for the rest of the day.

“Ba-” Draco chokes on his drink as soon as he hears your new pet name for him.

“What’s wrong? Are you okay?” You fake concern, trying to make it look as real as possible. If he believes you’re in love with him, then he’ll fall in love, too. At least, that’s the plan.

“Y-Yeah I’m...fine.” He clears his throat, setting his drink back down. You smile and get your own plate, making sure that you’re sitting as close as possible to him while still being able to eat.

He seems slightly uncomfortable, but easing into it since the two of you are in a “relationship” and it’d be weird for him to be uncomfortable around you. Besides, he’d had his fun with his pet names and smooth lines. It’s your turn.

“God, you’re a bit much don’t you think, (y/l/n)?” Pansy groans from across the table. You look up at her, a passive smile gracing your face.

“I’m sorry you think so, Pansy. Fortunately, you’re not my boyfriend, so I don’t quite care what you think. Isn’t that right, darling?” You muse, turning to Draco and using his own nickname on him. Draco smirks, knowing the game you’re playing and how he’d get to poke fun at Pansy at the same time.

“Of course, love.” He puts an arm around your shoulders and pulls you even closer to him. You’re startled, but you don’t let it show. Instead, you lay your head on his shoulder and smile. Pansy snarls and gets up, leaving from the Great Hall.

Surprisingly, neither of you move, you just stay there wrapped up in each other. You can feel Draco’s heartbeat under your head, getting slightly more rapid as the seconds drawl on.

“Oi, are either of you two listening?” Blaise Zabini asks, waving a hand in front of you and Draco. The two of you break apart and turn to look at him, sheepish smiles on your faces.

“Sorry, what were you saying, Blaise?” You ask, a heat creeping up your neck. You wave it off as embarrassment.

“Couple of lovebirds, you two are. I was just saying it was funny how you showed Pansy up.” Blaise rolls his eyes. You turn back to your food, hyper-focusing on that instead of a quiet Draco next to you. Then it dawns on you.

Love? He called you “love.” Is that a new nickname?

~+~

It’s been another month since you and Draco had started dating. In total, it’s been a month and a half. By now, Draco has caught on to your lovey-dovey style and has followed suit. Now it’s a true battle.

“(Y/n)? Love?” Draco grabs your hand, startling you out of your thoughts.

“Hm? Sorry, baby, I got lost in thought.” You smile, rubbing a thumb over the back of his hand. This has become a regular thing for the two of you now. Hugging, holding hands, his arm around your shoulder, pretty much anything up to kissing. You had yet to kiss him, and you didn’t plan on it any time soon.

“I was just asking if you’d meet me at the astronomy tower tonight?” He hums, affectionately leaning the side of his head against yours. You smile out of habit.

“I’d love to, what time?” You ask, leaning your head on his shoulder to be more comfortable.

“Does eight sound alright?” He asks, his thumb raking smoothly over your hand that he holds in his. You keep from shuddering at his touch. No, you’re not in love. You don’t even have a crush on the boy. This is all a game.

A game that you’re going to win.

“Sounds wonderful. I’ve got to get to class, but I’ll see you tonight.” You stand up straight and turn to him, a small smile resting on your lips. He smiles back at you, but you can tell it’s more of a forced smile. That’s one thing you’re better at. Hiding your true intentions. He may be smooth, but smiles are not his strong suit.

“I’ll see you tonight, dear.” He lets go of your hand. You turn and walk to your divination class. What does he have planned for tonight?

~+~

When tonight rolls around, you’re not sure what to wear. You don’t want to dress too informally in fear that he’d not like your outfit and it would hurt your chances of wooing him, but you also don’t want to dress too nicely and look like you’re expecting too much. So, you opted for a nice blouse and a skirt. A good middle ground.

“I cannot believe you’re still dating Malfoy,” Hermione sighs as you step into your common room. Although she’s not Slytherin, you had let her in so she could be there for you. You needed someone to rant to, and she has been a saving grace during these times. See, she doesn’t know that you’re not really dating Draco, but that’s exactly what you need. She hates him, and you need a person in your life telling you that he’s no good for you. Every other girl just swoons over him and says how you’re so lucky.

“I know, ‘Mione, you say it every time.” You smile at her as you descend the stairs.

“Just making sure I keep you on your toes,” She says, giving you a small smile back. You know she disapproves, but she’s been a good friend recently. And disapproval is what you need, too, so she’s helping more than she realizes.

“Thank you. I’ve got to go now, but thank you for helping me get ready tonight. I owe you one,” You giggle as the two of you step out into the dungeons.

“Yeah, you do. Now...go have fun.” She gives you a weird smile. You laugh and walk away from her, making your way to the astronomy tower.

You walk up the long set of stairs up to the top of the tower, nerves gnawing at you the whole time. Why did he ask you here? This is private. Why did he need to talk to you in private?

“There you are. I was afraid you weren’t going to show.” You hear Draco’s voice as you reach the top of the steps. When you reach the peak, you look before you to see that Draco has set up a cute little picnic in front of the railing. You’re taken aback by the gesture.

“Draco, this is…”

“Is it too much?” You look to him and see that there’s...genuine worry written on his face? No, this is some cruel trick.

“No, no. It’s perfect.” You smile and sit down as he sits down next to you.

“I had some chocolate strawberries prepared for us. That, and I got some chocolate frogs. I know they’re your favorite.” He smiles what seems like a genuine smile at you. You’re surprised. When did this Draco show up? And what game is he playing here?

“Draco, I don’t know...I just--”

“Shh, I know...I know you’re going to talk about the bet. I don’t...I don’t want to think about that for tonight, alright? Let’s just...relax. Talk. Be normal, for once.” He takes your hand in his, and now you’re beyond confused. But you play along. Although you’re confused, this is still...really nice. You don’t hate it. You don’t hate him.

“Alright.” You agree, relaxing next to him. You lay your head on his shoulder and the two of you gaze up at the stars.

“Are you familiar with constellations?” He hums, picking up a chocolate strawberry to eat. You think for a second.

“No, not really. Are you?” You hum, getting more comfortable by the second. In all honesty, this is an ideal date if it were under better circumstances.

“More than. Would you like me to point out a few to you?” He asks, suddenly turning the chocolate strawberry to you. He raises his eyebrows as if to offer you the strawberry. Is he...planning on feeding it to you?

“For me?” You giggle, looking up at him. He smiles bashfully and nods.

“For you. Open up,” He says, leaning the strawberry in more. You open your mouth and take a bite of the strawberry, relishing in the sweet chocolatey taste. You hum and grin up at him.

“Delicious,” You say, smiling widely. You’re not sure you’ve ever had this much actual fun with him before. You’re not sure how to feel about it.

“Oh, you’ve got something,” He leans in a bit and locks eyes with you, “...here.” He wipes something off the corner of your mouth. For a minute, you’re locked in each other’s eyes, neither of you able to move.

You break out of the trance first, ducking your head to avoid him seeing your blush. This is still a bet.

“Thank you,” You murmur, hoping he didn’t see your blush.

“Of course. Constellations?” He asks, a sheepish smile tugging at his lips as well. You smile.

“Please,” You hum, leaning your head back on his shoulder. The two of you spend the next three hours pointing out constellations and talking about nothing and everything at the same time.

Once the date is over, you help him pack everything up, and the two of you sneak downstairs and back to the Slytherin common room. It’s past curfew, so you try not to get caught. You’re successful.

“I had fun tonight,” Draco says as the two of you walk back into the common room. You stay between the two sets of stairs leading to the differently gendered dorms.

“Me too,” You admit, smiling truthfully at him. He gives you a small smile back. You’ve decided that you like his genuine smile.

“I’ll see you tomorrow...love,” He gets slightly closer to you on the last words. Your breath hitches in your throat. Is he about to kiss you?

“Yeah, see you tomorrow,” You mutter quietly, not daring to move a muscle. He swoops in and plants a sweet kiss on your cheek before swiftly turning around and walking up the steps to the boys' dormitory. You stand there for a moment, speechless, until you follow suit and leave to go to your room.

One question plagues you as you walk back to your dorm, the trip seeming agonizingly longer than usual. Why would he go to such lengths tonight if the two of you were in private? There was no reason to do this since it’s not putting on a show for others. No, he knew this was just for the two of you. So why do it?

This leads you to another startling conclusion:

You’re starting to have feelings for Draco Malfoy. And you think he might feel the same.

~+~

A week after the date, things are going swimmingly. The dynamic has shifted just a bit, with the two of you being even more affectionate than you were. The hand-holding and hugs have turned into that and more. The small brushes of hands, his hand on the small of your back, have all elevated your feelings toward him and you’re just hoping that he feels the same way. You’re not in love. At this point, he can still fall in love before you and you can break it off. Just because you have slight feelings for the boy does not ruin the bet. Besides, you’ve had feelings for all of your other boyfriends at one point, and look where they all turned up. Dumped. You’ve still got this in the bag.

“Are you going to the quidditch game tonight, darling?” Draco hums, intertwining his fingers with yours as the two of you walk to potions class together. You grin at him.

“Of course. You told me you’d let me wear your old jersey, so I’ve got to go out and support my boyfriend, right?” You smirk, nudging his shoulder with yours. You don’t miss the small blush that spreads across his cheeks. It’s like he becomes a different person when no one’s watching the two of you and he has no arrogant reputation to uphold.

“Well, with your support, I know I’ve got this win against Gryffindor in the bag.” He grins and kisses your cheek. You bite your lip to keep from smiling so widely.

~+~

That afternoon, at the quidditch game, you find your spot amongst the crowd. You’re sitting with a few of your Slytherin friends as well as Ron and Hermione, surprisingly. They’re still wearing their Gryffindor scarves and hats, but you’re glad they’re sitting by you. You know Ron’s still infatuated with you, so you’re not surprised that it didn’t take a lot of convincing to get him over here, but you’re glad Hermione’s with you. Besides, Ron has stifled most of his flirting now that you have a boyfriend.

“Blimey, you look great (Y/n).” Ron smiles at you. You did say most of his flirting.

“Thanks, Ron. It’s Draco’s old jersey. I figured I’d better support my boyfriend.” You smile and show off the jersey, throwing Ron off. He grumbles something under his breath but keeps up his happy act.

“Well, I’m just hoping to get this game over with soon. I need to get back to studying for the test in DADA tomorrow.” Hermione huffs as she finds her seat next to you.

“Hermione, you’re literally the smartest witch at Hogwarts. You’ve got this test without even studying.” You snort, watching the players take their place on the quidditch field.

“Says you! You’re just as smart, (y/n).” Hermione scoffs. You laugh and shake your head, mostly focused on finding a certain platinum-haired boyfriend of yours. You find him off to the side, looking for you. Your hand shoots up and waves. You see his head turn to your area and he grins at you, winking. You blow him a kiss back and he pretends to catch it as he mounts his broom.

“God, you two are sickening.” Hermione gags next to you. You scrunch your nose up.

“Are not.” You huff. She laughs.

“Sure.”

“Hey, (Y/l/n),” You hear a shrill voice to your right. Great, she’s back.

“Do you mind, Parkinson? I’m trying to watch my boyfriend play quidditch.” You groan, not even turning to face her.

“Too bad your precious boyfriend was snogging me before charms earlier today,” Pansy smirks as you finally turn to face her.

“That’s nice... if I believed you. God, Pansy, everyone knows you’re desperate for my boyfriend. I can smell your lies from a mile away. Try tricking someone more gullible next time.” You roll your eyes and turn back to the field, easily finding Draco hovering as he looks for the snitch. You hear a high-pitched ‘hmph’ and footsteps walking away from you.

You see Draco’s eyes light up as he spots something across the field. He’s off in a flash and you see Harry try to follow behind him.

You watch as the golden blur darts around the stadium, coming close to a stop almost right in front of you. Your eyes focus on the two boys dashing after the golden snitch that are about to run into you. Your eyes widen as they approach.

Harry, to avoid hitting you, veers up at the last second and misses the snitch. However, Draco flips over you sideways at the last second and grabs the snitch mid-air, landing not-so-gracefully behind you. He holds the snitch up and the entire Slytherin section goes insane.

“And Draco Malfoy catches the snitch! Slytherin wins!” You hear the announcer shout.

“Almost hitting me, huh?” You turn back to Draco, a smile playing on your lips. He grins at you.

“But I didn’t hit you, did I? Made sure of it.” He smirks playfully. You look down and lock eyes with a seething Pansy Parkinson who’s glowering at you with Draco. Thinking back on it, that’s probably why you did what you’re about to do next.

You reach up and cup Draco’s cheek, bringing him down to you and connecting your lips. You feel him tense up in shock for a moment before he relaxes and kisses you back. The seconds feel like an eternity before you pull away, breathless. You hear cheers around you, most likely from your kiss and the win. You’re not sure if he’s breathing heavily from the stunt he just pulled or that kiss, but he looks at you with his lips slightly parted and a faraway look in his eyes as he processes what just happened.

“Hey, Draco, get down here!” You hear one of the Slytherin teammates call to him. He shakes off some of his shock, blinking a few times before he mounts his broom again. A wide smile finds its way back to his face and you’re left wondering if you made the right decision or not. It was a heat of the moment thing, it didn’t mean anything...right?

Right?

~+~

“What was that?” Draco asks you once the two of you’re alone after dinner.

“What was what?” You feign innocence, not really wanting to talk about it in the first place.

“The kiss,” He states incredulously.

“Oh, that! Yeah, um...it was a heat of the moment decision to get back at Pansy. Sorry.” You laugh it off. That’s not the entire reason, but it’s also not a lie, so you roll with it.

“Oh, that’s it?” He asks. He seems almost...disappointed? No, that’s not right.

“Yeah, why?” You ask, concern finding its way into your voice.

“No reason. I’ll, uh, see you around. I gotta go.” He presses a hasty kiss to your cheek before walking off.

He didn’t want it to be real...did he? Did you?

~+~

Another month later, you’re officially in deep crap. It’s been almost three months, and that was the deadline you had set for yourself to make Draco fall in love with you. In reality, the opposite had happened. You’re afraid that you’ve fallen in love with him.

Scratch that, you know that you’re in love with him, and that makes you very afraid. However, he seems to be reciprocating everything you’ve felt, so you’re wondering if he’s in the same situation. No, you’re sure he’s in the same situation. It’s written all over his face every time you kiss. You see the love in his eyes.

Yes, you kiss regularly now. It’s been happening quite a bit since the quidditch match, and in all honesty...he sneaks in kisses when you’re in private, too. Which is why you’ve planned when you’re going to confess to him.

“You ready for our date tonight, darling?” Draco hums, a smile playing at his lips as he walks up to you and slides his arms around your waist. He lifts you up and gives you a small peck on the lips. You giggle.

“Of course I am.” You grin, kissing him again.

“Remember, the Room of Requirement. Eight o’clock.” He sets you down, pressing another kiss to your forehead.

“Can’t wait.” You start to walk off, blowing him a kiss. He “catches” it and stuffs it in his pocket.

“For later,” He whispers, winking. You giggle and part ways with him.

Yeah, you’re definitely in love.

~+~

When eight rolls around, you’re ready. Draco told you to dress nicely for this date, so you opted for a nice winter dress. You make your way to the Room of Requirement, finding it quite easily despite its reputation for not showing up a lot of the time.

Inside, Draco has set up floating candles all around the outskirts of the room and you see a small speaker in the corner of the room.

“What’s this?” Your eyes light up, taking in your surroundings.

“I set up some candles and this….phonograph, I think is what the muggle-borns called it? It’s supposed to play music, and I thought it fit the atmosphere…” Draco trails off, looking at you for your opinion.

“It’s beautiful, Draco. And it fits the mood perfectly. I mean...I know I’m special when the Draco Malfoy uses a muggle contraption for our date.” You tease him, walking up to him. He bows his head as a blush takes over his features.

“You know I want the best for you, (Y/n/n).” He lets your nickname slip, meeting you in the middle of the room. You smile fondly at him and he mirrors your expression.

“I love it.” You murmur quietly. You want to say something else instead of ‘it’ but you hold your tongue. It’s not the time yet.

“Care to dance?” Draco holds out his hand to you as a soft ballroom song starts to drift out of the phonograph, flowing through the room, giving it a sweet aria.

“I would love to.” You take his hand and the two of you start to glide across the floor. You’re no expert dancer, but you’d been to a Yule Ball before, and you’ll be going to another one this year. You like to be prepared.

“You’re quite the dancer, (Y/n/n),” He murmurs, capturing your eyes in his. You can’t look away.

“I have a good partner,” You blush, moving to a more intimate dancing stance. Your arms wrap around his neck as his wind around your waist. Your inches from his face, staring into his eyes.

The music seems to fade away as Draco leans down and kisses you deeply, stopping your dance across the floor. Your eyes flutter closed and your hands find their way up into his hair, pulling him impossibly closer to you.

When you finally break apart, you feel like you’re the only two people in the world. You feel ready to conquer the question that’s been aching in your heart for the past few weeks.

“(Y/n/n), will you go to the Yule Ball with me?” Draco murmurs, stroking his thumb across your cheek. You smile fondly at him.

“Of course. I...I have something to tell you, Draco.” You whisper, afraid that speaking too loudly will scare him away from you.

“Yes?” He asks, his eyes so full of love that you want to just shout it out right now. Him asking you to the Yule Ball only fuels your desire, since that’s at least a month away. He expects you two to be together for a long time.

“I...I love you.” You admit, feeling a large weight lifted off your chest. A large grin breaks out across Draco’s face.

“You do? You really do?” His eyes light up and you want to cry tears of relief.

“Yes, I really do.” You laugh a little, tears of joy pricking at the corners of your eyes.

“Oh my god, I thought...I was afraid you were just really good at acting,” Draco lets out a puff of air, running a hand through his hair.

“No, I-I love you, Draco.” You smile, feeling your heart soar. He loves you, too.

“That’s a relief. Well, I suppose I can drop this facade, now.” His hand drops from your face and he takes a step back.

You feel your heart shatter at those few words.

You look at his face to see that his usual genuine (or so you thought) fond smile is gone, replaced by his usual arrogant smirk.

“W-What?” You ask, your tears of joy turned to tears of devastation.

“I mean, really? You really thought that I was in love with you? Maybe I should go into acting, I mean, I seemed to fool you.” He laughs, crossing his arms in triumph. Your lip quivers as tears spill down your face.

“You- you liar!” You cry, wiping madly at your face to stop the tears but they’re too fast.

“Come on, (Y/n/n), we’re through. We both knew it was going to end this way. Spare me the heartache. I won.” He spits bitterly at you, rolling his eyes in annoyance. The cocky smile never disappears.

“I thought it was real,” You choke out, feeling your breaths coming out raggedly as you go through the heartbreak you thought you had avoided.

“Well, you thought wrong, darling.” The sarcasm drips from his words heavily.

“Don’t call me that! Don’t- don’t speak to me ever again!” You scream, running out of the Room of Requirement.

“Oh, don’t be so dramatic!” You hear him call as you run out. You dash through the halls wildly, not sure of your final destination. You finally find a closet that you hide in, locking behind you as you sink to the ground and cry your eyes out. You stay in there for a while, sobbing into your knees until your heart’s content. Although you stop crying after a while, you still feel the heartbreak and suffering. The pain doesn’t go away. Not for a long time.

You thought he felt the same.

“You thought wrong, darling,” Draco’s cruel words echo in your mind endlessly. You thought wrong.

You thought wrong.

~+~

You don’t get out of bed for the next two days. On the third day, one of your friends finally drags you out of your bed and makes you go to class.

“You can’t let your grades slip, (Y/n),” She had told you.

You were honestly willing to let anything slip as long as you didn’t have to see Draco anymore.

On your first day of going back to classes, you try to block out the whispers.

“Did you hear that Draco broke up with her?”

“That’s the first guy to break up with her right?”

“What happened to being the playgirl of the school?”

“I guess she’s not all that anymore,”

“I doubt boys will even give her a second glance after this,”

You try to block them out, and you’re partially successful until Pansy comes along.

“What’d I tell you, (Y/n)? Draco would always come back to me. We both knew it,” Pansy says snarkily as you pass her in the hall.

“Oh, shove it, Pansy. He’s not even with you, he just--”

“Oh, that’s right, you haven’t been here for the past two days because you’ve been pathetically staying in bed. He asked me out yesterday,” She cackles, her freshly manicured hands taunting you as she laughs.

“He...what?” You’re dumbfounded for the second time this week, feeling tears prick at your eyes again. He never had feelings for you. At all.

You didn’t get out of bed the day after that, either.

~+~

After another day of staying in bed and letting everyone’s words get to you, you finally get up again. You put a little effort into your hair and makeup, trying to maintain at least some of your dignity as you force your way back into the world.

“(Y/n)! You’re back!” Hermione runs up to you as you walk into the Great Hall. She tackles you in a hug and you numbly hug her back, not sure if you’re feeling anything right now besides heartache still.

“Hi, ‘Mione.” You mutter, your eyes finding their way to the Slytherin table on their own. You see Draco hand in hand with Pansy, striking your heart with a sharp pang.

“Come on, come sit with me and the boys.” Hermione leads you away, forcing you to tear your eyes from the platinum-haired boy. You don’t feel his eyes on you as you sit between Harry and Hermione across from Ron at the breakfast table.

“Hi, (Y/n).” Harry and Ron speak up sympathetically. You give them a pathetic wave, digging into your breakfast quietly. No one says a word.

“Well, (Y/n), you have quite a bit of school work to catch up on. We have a test in transfiguration today, and of course, there’s always potions to catch up on, Snape is quite the…” Hermione continues on, but you tune her out as you continue to eat.

“Hey, are you okay?” Harry sets his hand on your shoulder, breaking you from your thoughts. You turn to look at him, eyes glazed as you take in the concern on his face. You force a small smile on your face.

“Never been better.” You lie. You see a small frown form on his lips. He knows you’re lying, it’s not hard to tell.

~+~

It goes like that for a couple of weeks, the same draining day after day after day. You get used to the lifeless routine, hoping that one day color will return to the world. Everything seems duller than it used to be. You can’t bear to look at the constellations the same way anymore, either.

That is, until one day.

“(Y/n), can we talk?” You hear a pained voice behind you. You turn around, a blank look staying steady on your face.

“No.” You deadpan, seeing Draco standing there.

“Please...I need to speak with you. Alone.” He begs, going as far as to stop you when you try to walk away from him.

“You already won, what more could you want from me?” You ask, your tone staying even and deadly with venom.

“It was...Please, let me speak to you alone--”

“No!” For once, you’re feeling more than heartache. You’re feeling anger.

“(Y/n/n)...”

“You don’t get to call me that! You lost that privilege when you ripped my heart out, tore it to shreds, and stomped on it right in front of me! Sure, it was in our little bet to break each other’s heart, but you didn’t have to be so cruel.” You seethe, letting your pent up frustration go on him.

“That’s what I want to talk about-”

“You can save your apology because I don’t want to hear it! I don’t want to hear how you still hate me but you--”

“It was a mistake, okay!” He yells at you. You see people start to stare at the two of you. You grab his arm and shove him into the empty hallway, slamming the door behind you.

He starts to say something, but you hold your hand up to silence him.

“No. You do not get to waltz back into my life with your smooth lines as if you didn’t completely ruin it with your words just a few weeks ago. You said it yourself, Draco, we’re through. You even have Pansy now.” You growl, tears pricking at your eyes again. No way would he get away with this. Not again.

“Please just...hear me out. I know it’s not as easy as just saying sorry--”

“No, I’m done, I’m leaving. I can’t-- I can’t…” You start to choke on your own words again, the tears finding their paths down your cheeks. The barricades have broken again and you’re left with the rivers you thought had finally dried up.

“No. I’m not leaving you alone until I tell you this. I do love you. I did back then, too, I just...I let my pride get the better of me. I couldn’t tell what love was until I lost it. You left a void in my heart and...and I tried to fill it with Pansy but I didn’t need another girl I...I needed you. I broke up with Pansy just a few days after being with her.” You hear his voice turn hoarse and you look up to see tears running down Draco’s cheeks, too. In all your years of knowing him, you had never seen him cry.

“Your smooth lines…got us into this mess. You and your stupid bet,” You growl, wiping the tears off your cheeks furiously.

“And I hate myself for it! I had feelings for you back then, dammit, I just knew I wouldn’t be able to ask you out normally with you accepting. I’m not even sure I knew that I had feelings at that point. I messed it up...I mess everything up... with my reputation and pride.” He admits, reaching a hand out to you. You look at it and shake your head.

“I’m not...I’m not convinced,” You sniffle.

“Please, I’ll do anything to convince you. No matter how long it takes. I want you back (Y/n), and I promise I’ll do whatever it takes, however long it takes, to gain your trust back little by little. Until you’re mine again.” He promises.

You look into his eyes and see through the cracks tiny pieces of hope. You think maybe, just maybe, that the genuine smiles and love that you saw were real. The genuine kindness that you so ache to see again. And maybe now you have a chance to see them again. What does he have to gain at this point? Why is he confessing all of this right now? It’s ruining his reputation as a player and flirt, which is exactly what the bet was all about. Why?

“....One more chance. And it’s not coming easily. You’re working for it, Malfoy, I am not one to win back easily. Any wrong moves and you’re gone. For good.” You promise him, the tears finally slowing down until they’re reduced to occasional sniffs.

“That’s all I’m asking for.” He reaches for your hand, but you pull it away from him.

“We’re not a couple. I’m not ready for that. I hardly trust you anymore. We’re friends and that’s it right now. We’ll see how it goes.” You warn him. He nods vigorously.

“Anything for you.” He nods.

For the first time in weeks, there’s a small kernel of hope in you that wasn’t there before.

~+~

It’s been two years since that day, and you and Draco are back together and happily dating. You have been for almost a year at this point. You’re sure he’s the one after he went through a year of torture trying to get you back. He finally earned your trust and love back and the two of you have been happy ever since. He hasn’t done anything to deter you. Nothing big, anyway.

“Draco, fetch me the mistletoe, will you?” You hum, grinning at your boyfriend as you finish decorating your new apartment for Christmas. The two of you have been out of schooling for a year and a half, happily enjoying the new freedom. You’ve both gotten amazing jobs as Aurors, getting to work side by side in the ministry of magic as you catch dark wizards and put them behind bars. Things honestly couldn’t be better.

“Here you go, love.” He goes to hand you the mistletoe, holding it slightly out of your reach above your heads. You giggle and lean in, kissing him deeply. He kisses back, wrapping a hand around your waist as the other continues to hold the mistletoe above you.

“That was sweet, but I do want that mistletoe now,” You joke, reaching up and taking the mistletoe from him. He complies.

“I was thinking...it’s a few days before Christmas, would you mind opening one of the gifts I got you early?” He asks, gesturing to a big box sitting next to the tree.

“Draco, we’re supposed to wait until Christmas to open gifts,” You jokingly complain and he grins, knowing you won’t say no to opening a gift early.

“Oh, come on, it’s just one gift.” He teases, sliding the box over to you.

“Oh, alright, if you insist.” You grin at him, tearing open the outside wrapping paper. You open the big box and find another slightly smaller box inside, only to open that one and find another smaller box inside. You giggle as you continue to open boxes and find smaller ones inside until you finally reach a small box that fits into your palm, wrapped neatly in wrapping paper.

“Go on, open it,” Draco coaxes you on. You smile.

“But it’s so small and cute,” You hum, admiring the cute little wrapped box.

“I think you’ll like what’s inside more.” He chuckles. You giggle and tear the wrapping paper off of it, showing a small velvety box. You gasp, tears pricking at your eyes. Draco takes the box from your hand, getting on one knee as he opens it up to you, revealing a sparkling diamond ring in it.

“Draco, I--” You choke on your words, tears of joy brimming your eyes.

“(Y/n/n)...you make me the happiest man alive. I’m so lucky you gave me another chance because I cannot imagine my life not by your side. So...will you do me the absolute honor, and marry me?” He asks. You notice his hands shaking and you let out a short burst of air before nodding vigorously.

“Yes, yes of course I’ll marry you, Draco!” You cry, tears finally spilling down your cheeks. Draco stands up, excitement clear on his face as he takes the ring out of the box and slides it on your finger. He delicately lifts you in his arms and kisses you passionately. Your hands wrap around his neck, pulling him as close as possible.

Now, truly, things can’t get any better. And you mean that with all of your heart.

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amor-immortalem · 3 years

Text

Everything Undesired chapter 2

Chapter 1

Arella sat quietly, solemnly as she held his hand. She could only watch helplessly as his brows furrowed, lost deep in another nightmare.

Why, she thought, why did this happen? How could she allow him to end up in such a bad place? Granted, they hadn’t really seen each other for over three months. That was the last time they had been intimate but even then she could tell he was distant- not present in the moment but rather just going through the motions.

After that, Mammon had started avoiding both her and his brothers like the plague. Arella began to fear he might not actually love her anymore but still kept her around as an object of his greed- no longer anything more than just a possession to be owned. The very thought was enough to break her heart as she ran her fingers through his hair in a soothing manner- hoping the action might quell his nightmare. It seemed to work until his hand came up to grasp her wrist and she let out a surprised gasp.

”You’re awake! Mamm-“

”Get out,” his voice was rough, scratchy almost.

Please don’t leave me.

”Huh?” Even now, when all she wanted was to be by his side, the demon was pushing her away.

”Ya deaf or somethin’?” Mammon growled, “Said get out,”

Please, figure it out. Just order me to talk and I’ll tell ya everything.

At this, Arella puffed out her cheeks in an angry pout. “No! I’m not leaving until you tell me what the hell is going on with you. You’re my boyfriend and I care about you. Your brothers and I are worried sick about you. You scared the daylights out of all of us when you collapsed at the student council meeting! I didn't want to do this but Mammon, I'm ordering you to tell me what happened to lead you to this point."

And there it was. The one thing he's been waiting for all these months. The gag order had been lifted and now he could tell her- tell them all what the witches had done.

"I was raped! More than once!" His voice cracked with unshed tears. "They used the pact so they could tie me down and used it ta keep me from struggling w-while they- they-" He couldn't finish his sentence. All the shame and guilt he felt from the past year came rushing back and hit him like a hurricane. "A-An' then they forced me to stay quiet. I couldn't tell anyone. T-they wanted a kid outta me. Part of me thinks they might've gotten what they wanted too."

Arella's jaw dropped at the confession. She couldn't believe what she just heard- not because she didn't believe Mammon, no, what Arella couldn't believe that a pact-master would dare to cross such a boundary. She ran to him, the sobbing, broken, victim and embraced him tightly as he pressed his face in the junction between her neck and shoulder, hot tears dampening the fabric of her uniform shirt.

"I'm so sorry, Treasure! I tried so hard to fight 'em off but I just- I wasn't strong enough!"

"No... No, Love, don't apologize. You did your best. They abused the pact. There was nothing you could have done." She started to rock him as she shushed him, her own tears to spill over.

"I feel so horrible! So dirty an' disgusting. I can't even look myself in the mirror! What kind of demon am I? I’m supposed ta be the Avatar of Greed- the second strongest outta the seven of us- and I can’t even fend off three human witches?! Y’all should he ashamed of me for bein’ so weak…”

”Mammon, I’m not ashamed of you. They took advantage of your trust. It wasn’t your fault. You set a boundary and they overs stepped it. I just wish I would have made you talk sooner…” Arella turned her head to place a kiss to his temple. “Its going to be okay. Come what may, the eight of us get through this together. You don’t have to fight this alone anymore, alright?”

The demon only nodded as he allowed the human to guide him onto his back. “Will you stay with me?” He asks, voice strained and tired. “I don’t… I don’t want to be alone right now.”

“Of course, I will.” She nodded as she started to play with his hair in attempt to relax him enough to fall alseep. “I’ll always be here when you need me.”

—————————————————————

The brothers sat silently as Asmo’s words hung over them like a heavy cloud.

”Are you absolutely sure that’s what happened, Asmodeus?” Lucifer asks just barely able to mask the horror written on his face.

”As much as I wish it weren’t the case, after considering the abrupt change in personality, the isolation, the nightmares, the staying out with them all night- I’d be willing to bet my title on it….” The Avatar of Lust had an serious expression on his face as he spoke. As far as the not eating goes, it could be a form of self harm he doesn’t think we’re noticing. I’ve seen this all too often to not know and I don’t know why it never clicked sooner.”

”But why didn’t he tell us?!” Levi exclaimed, “I thought we were past all this?”

”You can’t even begin to understand the shame that comes with rape, Levi…” The strawberry blonde demon frowned. “And for somebody like Mammon, who’s image is everything to him, it can be very difficult to accept what happened or ask for help or even come forward in the first place.”

”So it’s about his pride essentially?” Beel asked with a confused look on his face.

”I don’t think that’s the case actually,” Satan quipped as he stroked his chin contemplatively. “I’ve been watching Mammon more closely for a few weeks now… whenever Arella attempts to talk to him about what’s been happening, he has this look on his face. Like he wants to say something but can’t so he just deflects the question but it got me thinking… What if he really can’t say anything about this to anyone?”

“So you’re implying Mammon had a gag order on him?” The Avatar of Sloth sat up, full attention on his brother.

At this Lucifer stood from the table abruptly. All he saw was red while his brothers shrank back at the rage rolling off him. They hadn’t seen him this wrathful since the fall- since Satan’s birth.

“I’ll be leaving to the Demon Lord’s castle,” the Avatar of Pride announced as he made his way out. “Don’t wait up.”

He would be followed by the sixth and the fourth, leaving the other three to figure out a way to best comfort the second-born now that they had figured out the truth.

—————————————————————

Arella was coming down to the kitchen. She felt sick with anger ever since she found out what happened to Mammon. They had all missed dinner that night, too preoccupied with the Avatar of Greed’s condition to even consider dinner plans.

As she entered the kitchen, she almost ran smack dab into the Avatar of Envy.

“Oh gosh, Levi. I’m sorry I wasn’t paying attention to where I was going.”

“No its okay. How’s Mammon doing? Is he awake?”

Arella nodded. “He woke up a few hours ago but I’ve been trying to get him to go back to sleep and stay asleep for longer than 30 minutes… He says he hasn’t eaten in a few days so I figured getting some food in him will help him sleep better.”

Levi perked up instantly. “Let me help you! What are you planning to make?”

“I was just going to make those cup noodles you brother likes. I don’t want to be away too long. Also, do you know where Lucifer is? I was able to make Mammon talk and I have to tell Lucifer what happened right away.”

”He went to the Demon Lord’s castle to see Diavolo. We- well it was mostly Asmo- figured out what happened. I haven’t seen Lucifer this upset and angry since the fall.”

Arella let out a small sigh of relief. At least those horrible women were going to get what was coming to them. “You know, instead of helping me make dinner for him, why don’t you go and keep Mammon company instead? He didn’t really seem too keen on being alone so I’m sure he would appreciate the company.”

She gave an encouraging smile as Levi nodded, heading off to see his brother as Arella got dinner ready for the white haired demon.

Masterlist 2

#dead dove do not eat #obey me #obey me shall we date #obey me swd #obey me! shall we date?#obey me angst #mammon angst #obey me lucifer #obey me mammon #obey me leviathan #obey me satan #obey me asmodeus #obey me beelzebub #obey me belphegor #obey me oc #tw: referncex rape #arella

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babybottlepop96 · 3 years

Text

Hikaru Hitachi in x Fem!Fujioka!Reader (NSFW)

Warnings: smut after the time skip. Nothing to much but it's there so you have been warned.

A/n: OHSHC was the very first anime I watched and it's what got me into anime in the first place. So here some Host Club Smut for ya!

It was like any normal day in the life of a commoner. School, work, clean, cook, downtime, sleep, repeat. So when the weekend came and Haruhi would be home to help out and you actually had a day off from work, the two of you just relaxed. She told you all about the host club's wacky adventures that day and you couldn't help but giggle and the way she described Tamaki. You never met the guy, but you could tell he had something for your older twin. It was so obvious, but as smart as Haruhi is, she was completely oblivious. And from you gathered from all the stories, he was too. "How about I make us some lunch Haru?" You said standing.

"I'll come with you! I haven't cooked much since I started Ouran and it will be fun to make something together!" She smiled and you smiled back.

"I'd love that!" The two of you made your way to the kitchen and began preparing when someone knocked on the front door.

"I'll get it." Haruhi said and left while you continued to grab stuff to make some homemade ramen. You noticed the lack of food and ingredients in the kitchen and made a mental note to go to the market later. "Uh, (y/n)? You know how you asked me to keep out of the host club's crazy antics?" Haruhi asked while standing nervously in the doorway.

"Yeah?" You turned around slowly, not really liking how she was talking.

"They're here." You froze. You didn't want to be a distraction for your sister or to get caught up in anything related to the host club because you had too much work to do. You had to help keep the house clean and prepare food and actually work a job to help out around the house. You didn't have time to get caught up in some crazy plans to get two children together or go to the beach and flirt with people. Not that you knew that would happen but you knew it could've been a possibility.

"Oh, okay. I'll make some tea!" You said with a smile. Just because you weren't interested in the rich guys your sister became friends with didn't mean you were going to be a rude host. Wow… host.. weird. You quickly made some of your special tea you bought. It was more expensive but it tasted amazing and you only used it for special occasions. You carried a tray of cups with the tea along with some milk, sugar and honey just in case if they wanted to put it in. "I made tea." You smiled as you walked into the living area to see everyone sitting on the floor… try to conserve space?

The group of boys turned to look at you and their eyes widened. "You look just like Haru-Chan! But more girly!" A small blonde boy, Hani you assumed from the descriptions Haruhi gave you, spoke and smiled.

"Identical!" The orange hair twins, Hikaru and Karou?, Spoke.

"Haruhi? Who is this?" The tall blonde with a slight french accent asked.

"This is (y/n) my sister. My… twin…. Sister." That's when all hell broke loose. Arms being flung around and crying? Were they crying?!

"Haruhi! How could you not tell us you had a twin!?"

"She is so cute!"

"Daddy has two daughters now!!!"

"Hm."

"I knew all along." Many voices spoke and it was giving you a headache.

"If you could all just calm down, maybe we could talk like normal humans?" You spoke after, surprisingly, successfully setting the tray of tea cups on the table. So everyone quieted down and that when you began to answer the questions. "Both Haruhi and I got accepted into Ouran, but I chose to not go because one of us needed to help dad with bills and food and keep the house clean. Both of us would have been hard on money and one of us needed to stay. So I decided I would since I didn't get as high a score as Haruhi and she has more of a reasonable life goal than I do. So it was only fair if I let her go to the best school they had to offer. Yes I am the younger twin, but only by a few minutes." And so on and so forth. When you heard everyone's stomachs rumble, you realized that no one had eaten lunch yet. "I'll go to the market and grab stuff for some stew or something." You stood and grabbed your jacket and slipped on your shoes.

"I'll come with you." Haruhi stood and you stopped her.

"Your friends are here, you should stay." You smiled and she gave you a sad smile back

She knew you didn't have time for friends since taking on a job along with doing school and cleaning and everything to help out. You left and headed to the market when suddenly someone came up beside you.

"Hey." They said and you turned to see one of the twins.

"Hello, Hikaru. What are you doing here?" I asked and he looked wide eyes at you for a moment before speaking.

"I thought you could use some company."

"I see, well, you know the rest better than I do. What kind of food does everyone like?" You asked.

"Stew is fine. Any kind really." He shrugged. The two of you walked in silence for a moment.

"She never told us she had a twin." He finally spoke after you two had left with the bags from the market.

"I know. I didn't want it to distract her from her studies and to be honest, I didn't want to get any attention from you guys either. She talks very highly of all of you, but I heard stories about Tamaki. Daddy? Is he like…. One of THOSE guys?" You asked and he laughed.

"I don't think Boss even knows what a boner is. Much less how to actually kiss someone or even think that being called daddy is a kink." The two of you laughed and joked around the whole way home.

TIME SKIP (A FEW MONTHS LATER)

"H-Hikaru." You whimpered inside the dark closet. You and Haruhi were invited to the Suoh estate for a small party, which is how you ended up playing one hour in heaven. How you ended up with Hikaru inside the closet. His lips trailed soft sweet kisses down your neck, he was on a hunt. Looking for that spot that made you melt, and when he found it, boy did he abuse it.

"You're just so beautiful, (y/n)." He kissed your lips again gently. "So incredibly beautiful." He kissed you again but with more passion. "Your fun *kiss* your smart *kiss* and you are just so kind. I can't hold myself back any longer." He looked into your eyes, lips only millimeters apart.

"Then don't." You whispered. And that's when he attacked your lips in a bruising kiss. Hands tangled in hair and clothes being thrown around the decent sized closet. Every inch of your skin and his were left out in the open for each other to explore. "Let's.. let's try something." You breathed out and he nodded for you to go ahead. You laid him down on his back and proceeded to straddle his face, facing his dick. He grabbed your hips and pulled you down to his face and began to lick a stripe from your clit to your ass. You moaned as you leaned down to take him into your mouth, you couldn't see what he looked like in the dark but fuck he was thick and long. He began to suck on your clit again, causing you to moan around his cock, which he involuntarily bucked his hips a bit. He moaned and you felt it go straight to your core. You came pretty quickly and he didn't waste a single drop.

Suddenly you found yourself on your back and he attacked your lips once again. He suddenly slammed into you and you cried out in pain. "Oh, oh my God I'm so sorry! I.. I'd isn't realize that your were a-"

"It's okay! Really, just… give me a minute." He nodded and gave you a sweet passionate kiss. Only when you bucked your hips a bit, a silent plea for him to move, did he move. The room was then filled with sweet moans and groans from the two of you. You came another three times before his hips began to get sloppy.

"I.. I'm gonna-" he didn't have time to do anything before he released himself inside of you. "Oh fuck! I'm so sorry!" You pulled him down to kiss him.

"It's okay. It's okay."

"Will you please be my girlfriend, (y/n)?"

"No, I only fucked you and gave you my virginity because I don't want to go out with you." The two of you laid there for a second before you two laughed.

"So, tomorrow night? Dinner and cuddles?"

"You bet that ginger of yours there will be cuddles."

#ohshc fic #hikaru hitachiin #smut #female reader #hikaru hitachiin smut #love this anime #hitachiin hikaru x reader #hitachiin hikaru x reader smut

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jabbagabba · 3 years

Text

La La Land

Read Prologue, One

Warning ⚠️

Triggering subjects: disassociation, manipulation, mind control, gaslighting (READ AT OWN RISK)

Wandavision: Spoilers (up to episode 7, just to be safe) cheesy sitcom talk, the fifties, the ‘dinner table’ scene, The nickname ‘kiddo’

Oh, Kiddo

“Uh oh.” You didn’t need to check the recipe book to know that cookies weren’t suppose to make smoke invade the inside of the oven.

“Still better then the last batch.” Wanda said, a small cough falling from her mouth as you tipped the burnt treats into a small bin under the counter.

The sight of the now empty tray made you sigh sadly, the burnt pieces of dough was going to take decades to scrub off!

“I’m sorry about the tray.” You let it drop into the sink. “I promise, as soon as mom comes back, I’ll get you a new one.”

Wanda scoffed playfully, a point of her finger making the tray levitate in front of her. “Don’t be silly, kiddo!” You watched in awe as it turned back to its shiny silver. “I have an amazing cleaner.” You both giggle.

“Well I should at least do the dishes myself.” The sight of Wanda trying to argue made you hold your hand up in silent protest “No, no. You aren’t the only one who has hands.”

“You wash, I dry?” The perfect compromise.

The kitchen fell into peaceful silence except for the bubbly soap that filled the sink. It was the perfect start of a new day (maybe not for the oven) and you couldn’t help smile at the warmth that swelled through you.

“Busy hands make the heart grow fonder” Your mother’s words echoed inside of you as you finished the final dish.

The thought didn’t stay for long before the sound of a plate breaking made you jump, turning quickly as it hit the floor.

“My wife and her flying sources.” Vision quipped as the last of the shattered plate fell off his shoulder, dressed in a respectable suit and dress shoes.

“My husband and his indestructible head.” Wanda replied with a teasing smile. The perfect couple was a sight to behold as you grabbed the glass from the air above her and placed it back in the cuboard.

“Aren’t we a fine pair?” Vision gave his a wife a small kiss on the head and turned to you with a small smile. “Good morning, Kiddo.” You greeted him, drying your hands on the skirt of your dress. “I’m starting to think you came with the house.” Wanda chuckled.

“Mom will be back soon, I promise, the house will be teenage free before you know it.”

“Oh, don’t be silly!” He lets the newspaper in his hand slide across the countertop. “I’m only teasing.”

“What do you say to silver dollar pancakes, crispy hash browns, bacon, eggs, freshly squeezed orange juice, and black coffee?” Wanda’s words made your mouth water, it felt as though you hadn’t eaten in days and a full breakfast was just what you needed.

“I say. ‘Oh, I don’t eat food.’” He smiled.

“Well, that explains the empty refrigerator.” Her words confused you. There wasn’t even the carton of milk you were sure was there earl-

“Wanda?” Vision’s voice snaps you out of your thoughts, she simply hummed in question.

“Is there something special about today?”

“Well, I know the apron is a bit much, dear, but I am doing my best to blend in.” You watch as she crosses the kitchen.

“No, no, there on the calander. Someone’s drawn a little heart right above today’s date.” He lets his chin rest on her head while you move closer to see. Sure enough, there it was.

“Oh, yes.” Wanda said with tense shoulders. “The heart.” She looked over at you for some guidance, the confused look she saw didn’t help calm her nerves. “Well, don’t tell me you have forgotten, Vis.” She turned in his arms with a look of accusation and hands laid on her hips.

“Forgotten?” He scoffed. “Oh, Wanda, I’m incapable of forgetfulness. I remember everything. That’s not an exaggeration. In fact, I’m incapable of exaggeration.”

“Well, then tell me what’s so important about today’s date.”

You had to stifle a laugh when you looked at him; mouth blown out like a fish and eyes wide, a stern look from Wanda made you cover it with a cough.

“What was the question again?” Vision turned quickly. “Oh, well. Perhaps, you’ve forgotten yourself.”

“Me? Heavens, no. I’ve been so looking forward to it.” You let Vision pass you, choosing to keep to yourself and take a sit at the table.

“As have I.” He said proudly with arms folded. “Today we are celebrating...”

Why were you so hungry?

“You bet we are...”

Why were you always, so hungry?

“It’s the first time we....have ever celebrated this occasion before.”

“It’s a.... special day!”

Something doesn’t feel right

“Perhaps an evening... of great significance...”

Can you feel her clawing?

“Kiddo?” Her voice makes you jump in your seat, letting out a small hiss from hitting your knee underneath the table. “You alright?”

“I...” Silly you, always dozing off. “I’m just peachy keen, Wanda!” A series of knocks on the door makes her pause and you’re quick to stand. “I’ll get it!”

“Oh, you don’t have to do that...” She trailed behind you, a polite smile on her face as you open the door.

You barley grab the large plant that’s shoved in your face, the woman breezing past you with her hand out.

“Hello. dear, I’m Agnes. Your neighbour to the right.” Wanda lets out a awkward laugh but takes her hand anyway. “My right, not yours.” She’s loud and very, very talkative. “Forgive me for not stopping by sooner to welcome you to the block. My mother in-law was in town, so I wasn’t.”

You pull the plant away from you with a huff. Wanda gives you an apologetic look, grabbing it from your hands, both of you watching as Agnes makes her way through.

“So, what’s your name? Where are you from, and most importantly, how’s your bridge game, hon?”

Very talkative indeed.

Wanda laughs as she crosses the room -leaving you to close the door - and sent Agnes a friendly smile.

“I’m Wanda.” She gestures to you over the woman’s shoulder. “And we call her ‘Kiddo’.”

“Easier that way.” You add as you smooth out your skirt once more, choosing to sit on the edge of the couch. Agnes turns to you with a smile.

“Oh, I’m sorry dear!” You wave her off with another friendly smile. “Wanda, Kiddo, lovely names for two lovely ladies.” You all share a small giggle.

“Golly.” Agnes’ eyes scan the room. “You settled in fast! Did you use a moving company?”

“I sure did.” You wanted nothing but to rip off that stupidly large bow off that equally obnoxious plant, but you didn’t want to be rude. “Those boxes don’t move themselves.” Agnes chuckled and you were itching to move it from the table Wanda placed it on.

“So what’s a single gal like you doing rattling around this big house? With a daughter no less.” You and Wanda were quick to explain.

“I’m not her daughter.” You move back as her dress skirt fills your vision, looking over at Wanda. “Just visiting.”

“I’m married.” She added with a gleeful shine in her eyes.

“Oh, I don’t see a ring.”

“Well, I assure you I’m married.” She covers her hand with the other. “To a man. A human one and tall.”

Agnes was a very suffocating presence; her dress bold and checker patterned, your polka dots looked rather bland compared to it and when she took a seat next to you - practically in your lap at one point of readjusting - you had never felt so small.

“As a matter of fact, he’ll be home later tonight for a special occasion. Just the two of us.”

“Oh, is it someone’s birthday?”

“Not a birthday.”

“Well today isn’t a holiday, is it?”

Were there any holidays in March? You - like most days - were left completely blank.

“No, it’s not a holiday...” Wanda’s hands fidget, you couldn’t help but join, opting to pick at a thread on your sleeve.

Today was.... hmm, what was today? You tried to remember if Vision or Wanda spoke of anything special, but nothing really stood out from the crowd.

“An anniversary then?”

“Ye... yes!” The relief on her face was almost comical. “Yes! It’s our anniversary!” Agnes couldn’t hide her excitement, grabbing your hand mid pull of the thread and held another one for Wanda to take.

“Oh, how marvellous.” She turned forward, putting both of your hands in her lap as Wanda joined on the couch. “How many years?”

“Well, it feels like we’ve always been together.”

“Lucky gal.” Agnes shook your hand with a smile. “Isn’t it just, having such a wonderful influence like that?” Wanda blushed. “The only way Ralph would remember our anniversary is if there was a beer named ‘June 2nd’. “ At least she was entertaining, right? “So, what do you have planned?”

“How do you mean?”

“For your special night. A young thing like you doesn’t have to do much, but it’s still nice to set the scene.” You and Wanda shared a glance as Agnes turned once more. “Say, I was just reading a crackerjack magazine article -“ She gave you both a playful slap on the thigh as she stood. “- called ‘How To Treat Your Husband To Keep Your Husband,’ and let me tell you, what Ralph could really use is, ‘How To Goose Your Wife So You Don’t Lose Your Wife’.”

Maybe you were just a bad judge of character or you were simply just insecure, but Agnes, to her credit, had quickly found a way to pull on your hearstrings in a perfect way.

Or maybe she was just very funny.

“Hang on. I’ll go grab it and we can start planning.” She turned to you before leaving and pointed a perfectly manicured finger. “Now, I hope you don’t have plans, Kiddo! Suducing a man is a lesson no school could teach you, Though a pretty gal like you shouldn’t need a whole lot.” She laughed and you couldn’t help but feel the warm rush to your cheeks at the compliment. “Oh, this is gonna be a gas!”

With a final giggle and smile, Agnes was gone. You moved closer to Wanda as she let out a happy sigh.

“Before she comes back,” She turns to you fully. “- can I throw that horrid plant out?”

———

“-and you don’t have a song? Nothing special you played at your weddding?” Agnes asked, the magazine sitting on her lap.

“No, nothing special.” That seemed to be the go to answer for Wanda; no song, no inside joke and not even a favourite date. Maybe that was the new era of marriage?

“I’ll just loan you some records then.” Agnes said before pointing to the notepad in your hand. “Mark that off the list, Kiddo.” You nodded and did just that. “What are we up to?”

“We’ve got wardrobe, music and...” God, you had horrible handwriting. “Oh, decor!” Agnes let out a happy hum and looked back at the article.

“Hmm... oh, what about seduction techniques?”

“Oh, I have those.” The loud chuckle made Wanda frown, suddenly unsure.

Agnes was really good at that.

“Of course, you do.”

“Just out of curiosity, what does it say?” You both leaned in, the chair you were sitting on unfortunately made it impossible to see over her shoulder.

“That you should stumble when you walk into a room so he can catch you. It’s romantic.”

“Any other tricks?”

“You could point out that the death rate of single men is twice that of married men.” She suggested with a smirk.

“Now, that’s romantic.” The shared laughter is quick to die down when the phone rings. “Oh.” Agnes hands you a glass of apple cider, a small enough glass to blur the moral line of underage drinking, and raised hers with a grin.

“Drink up, dear.”

“Vision residents.” Wanda said politely over the phone, the voice of her husband making her grin. “Vision, sweetheart.” You had to stop yourself from grimacing at the bitterness of the drink, not a hint of apple was in it. Alcohol was truely disgusting.

“Don’t worry, dear. I have everything under control.” She turned towards you both with a knowing smile, debating whether or not to wrap the cord around her fingers like the giddy school girl she felt like.

Agnes took another sip and clicked her tongue. “Oh! I knew you looked familiar.” She said, adverting you attention. “You’re Lori’s girl, aren’t you?” You couldn’t explain why your stomach dropped. “Lovely woman, real smart cookie. Didn’t she want to be an actress or a.... hmm, oh....um -“

“A journalist.” The bitterness of the cider in that moment seemed like heaven, and you downed the rest in one go. Agnes giggled and nodded.

“That’s right, a journalist, very modern.” The conversation died after that, instead filled with tonight’s plan for Wanda. But even when you laughed and giggled along, deciding which record of Agnes’ to put on, that pit of dread remained.

You just wanted to know why.

———

So maybe baking wasn’t your strong suit, or even a decent hobby, but you did know how to set a mood. The candlight that filled the living room and the smell of vanilla (Agnes had enough of it to make you dizzy) was just the right amount of sweetness and romance.

“All done!” You call with a proud smile on your face. You turned as Wanda peaked her head out from the kitchen door.

“Aw, Kiddo, what would I do without you?” She had her hair curled to perfection, and makeup that made her look like a porcelain doll. She was the perfect wife and you had to admit, Agnes was right about you taking notes. “Are you sure you’ll get home okay?”

“I’ll be fine.” You grab your coat from the dining chair and give her a final smile. “Have fun.” She disappears back in the kitchen and you try to hide the knowing smirk on your face as you hear the front door. “I know, I know, I’ll be gone in two min-“

“You never told me you had kids.” A male voice, one you had never heard before, interrupted you. Your coat buttons were long forgotten as the couple strolled in; Vision looking just as horrified and confused as you.

“I... uh.”

“I didn’t know you were joining us for dinner, Kiddo.” Vision said with a nervous laugh. “Mr. Hart, this is my...”

“Cousin. Just flew in.” You can��t stop your hands from fidgeting as Vision nods.

“Yes! Yes, my cousin, Kiddo.”

“You’re name is ‘Kiddo’?” Mr. Hart is hostile, and his wife has to slap his shoulder when he glares at you.

“Oh stop it, it’s a lovely name.” She steps from behind her husband and lets out a small gasp. “Oh, how every atmospheric.” You forced a polite smile, blowing out one of the candles when she turns.

“What’s going on here, Vision? You blow a fuse?”

“Why don’t you take a seat...” You are quick to grab onto Vision’s hand and pull towards you with a smile. “And we’ll go and fetch the lady of the house.” Vision almost trips on the way to the kitchen behind you, you were a lot stronger then you looked.

“What’s going on?” This was not at all what you thought was going to happen. Maybe you had too much cider? “Where is she?” Vision didn’t wait for you to answer, already out of the kitchen before you could even think of a answer. “Wanda!” She was only there a moment ago.

“Vision.” Her smile fades to horror and she’s quick to move her hands away from Mr. Hart. “Oh! Oh!” She looks back and fourth from Vision and the Harts. When she caught glimpse of you, she nearly fainted, covering her chest as her cheeks bloomed a bright red.

“What is the meaning of this?”

“Well, what is... yeah, what is the meaning of...” His stammering wasn’t helping, at all, to calm anyone’s confusion. “Oh, the meaning of it! You want to know the meaning of it.... and the meaning of it is that this is the traditional Sokovian greeting of hospitality.” Wanda nodded, quickly making her way over as Vision covered her eyes. “Guess who?”

“Is that my host behind me?” She faked a laugh and you chose to find interest in your shoes.

“It certainly is.”

“Lovely to make you acquaintance.”

“Yes!” You wished the floor would suck you down to a hole in the ground, the awkwardness almost suffocating. “See, I forgot to tell you my wife is from Europe.” You look up with a grin as Vision put a hand on your shoulder. “And... so is my cousin.”

“Oh, how exotic!” Mrs. Hart said with a grin of her own, how on earth did they buy that?

“We don’t break bread with Bolsheviks.” Her husband grumbled.

“Oh, hush, Arthur!” She slapped his chest playfully with a chuckle. “Have you no culture at all ? And that dress!”

“Yes! It’s... “ Vision can’t help but take a double take at his wife’s appearance. “It’s so... Sokovian, Is what it is! Yes!”

“Can I just see you in the kitchen for a moment, sweetheart?” Wanda was light and fast on her feet, making sure to pull the fabric from a lamp before going to the kitchen.

“Oh, Yes!” Vision gestures to the candles and follows his wife.

You turn to the couple, with the brightest smile you can muster.

“Please.” You say with arms wide. “Take a seat, make yourselves comfortable.” The minute they reach the couch and sit, you get to work on the candles. You only get five done before Vision barrels through the door.

“Can you help Wanda? She’s just... “ Mrs. Hart glances over her shoulder with an eyebrow raised. “- finishing dinner.”

You are quick to excuse yourself.

———

“Oh, where is she?” Wanda tightens her apron for the third time, eyes glued to the door. She had changed from the silk, now wearing a modest evening dress.

“Oh, thank heavens!” Agnes had barley even walked past the window and Wanda, wasting no time, opened the back door wide. “Oh, Agnes! You’re a life-saver.”

“What kind of housewife would I be if I didn’t have a gourmet meal for five just lying about the place?” Both you and Wanda grab for the various tins and trays, trying to save the poor woman’s arms. “Not that Ralph ever wants to eat anything but baked beans which explains a lot about his personal hygiene, mind you.”

“I can take that.” You weren’t expecting her to drop the large pot so carelessly, not being able to catch it in time as it hit your foot with loud bang on the floor. “Ow.”

“Oh, my!” Agnes dropped to her knees, wiping off your shoe and picking up the pot and lid. “Butter fingers.” You chuckle and wave it off.

“It’s okay.” She gives you a bright smile and placing everything properly on the bench.

“- sure she’s absolutely fine in there!” The sound of Vision’s voice booms through the kitchen, a warning that made you both flustered.

“Oh, thank you, Agnes. I think we’ve got it covered from here.” Wanda said, placing her hands on the woman’s back and pushing gently.

“Are you sure dear?” Agnes asked, getting a small “mhmm” back from her. “Many hands make light work. And many mouths make good gossip.”

“You’re so naughty.” Wanda scolds playfully, you were kept busy with unpacking several vegetables from her wicker basket.

“Oh, shall I pre-heat the oven then, dear?” The witch was quick to steer her around from it as you moved out of the way.

“That won’t be necessary.”

“Oh, alright then. Well I know you’re in a pinch so this menu can be done in a snap.” Agnes made sure to snap her fingers, always one for the theatrics. “Lobster Thermidor with mini-minced turnovers to start.” She moved back towards the counter, Wanda letting out a breath as she followed. “Chicken à la king with twice-cooked new potatos for your second course.” She gave you a pat as she passed you. “And steak Diane and mint jellies for your main.”

Wanda had to move back as Agnes turned once more, finger inches from her face. “Do you set you own jellies, dear?” You both nod. “Good girls.” Wanda grabs her waist again and pushed but as she inches from the outside, she calls out to you. “Recipe cards are on the counter.”

Wanda closes the door, hands up as you read one of the cards.

“So, I guess we should start with-“

“No time, Kiddo.” With a flick of her wrist; every cuboard opened and you had to duck your head down to advoid getting hit with a frying pan. “Sorry.”

The kitchen quickly was in complete chaos; the smell of various veggies and seasonings overwhelmed your senses, and while you tried desperately to grab a wooden spoon from the air to stir, the kitchen bar devider opened.

Yeah, take out the papers and the trash, or you won’t get no spending cash

You and Wanda both watched in a mix of confusion and fear, apparently Vision could sing. You reached up on your toes once more and pulled the spoon down with a satisfied grin.

If You don’t scrub the kitchen floor, you ain’t gonna rock and roll no more

Oh, right. Mrs. Hart was inches away from a stressed out witch and her teenage sidekick surrounding by levitating kitchen supplies.

Time to close the shutters.

Yakety yak! Don’t talk back

You closed them with a sharp slam.

———

The past ten minutes had to be on the list of “worst moments ever” of your life, the world felt a little too off center and you had to remind yourself that breathing wasn’t just a personal choice. Wanda wasn’t doing too great either; the chicken went from borderline ash to newly laid eggs, it was starting to feel a little too warm in here. If you weren’t panicking so much, you might have remembered that the large coat you wore that had wool lining was easily removable.

“How’s the potatos, Kiddo?” Wanda turned to you with a frown at your apparence; you were covered in flour and unmoving from the corner, bowl in hand and eyes shinny.

“Am I moving?” You ask.

“No.” She gently grabs the bowl from your hands, grimacing at the mush inside and pulling you to the table. “Why don’t you have a seat? Hmm, take a few deep breaths and just re- oh no!” It was too late to save the cream from spilling on the floor.

Wanda almost wanted to join you at the table.

“Oh, what was I supposed to do next? What was the main course again?” She let the cards float around her, hands quickly turning them.”it was... steak.” Wrong card. “No. Steak...steak Diane!”

“Yes?!” You manage to look over at the closed blinds, Vision’s voice following again soon after. “I’m just coming... Fred.”

Wanda - after taking her own advice - had finally managed to put the kitchen back in order, all pots and pans back perfectly in their cupboards. You were finally calming down, able take a minute to process as she floated the lobster to the pot of boiling water.

But both of you felt the familiar panic burn through your veins when someone came rushing in from the living room, Wanda letting out a startled gasp and throwing the meat out the window. It was only after the window slammed shut that you realised it was just Vision.

“How can I be of assistance?” He asked with huff. Funny, you wouldn’t think a robot would need to take a breather.

“Well, the chicken is no longer a chicken and the lobsters just flew the coop so the steak is the last man standing.” Wanda replied, grabbing the recipe card from the counter. “It says here I can cut down the prep time with a meat tenderizer.”

“Excellent plan. Where’s the tenderizer?”

“I’m looking at him.” He gingerly took the mallet with a small “ah” and was forced to look up when the divider opened once more.

“Hoo-hoo in there!” Mrs. Hart’s head popped in and Wanda was quick to move, almost ruining the poor woman’s curls when she closed it.

“Hoo-hoo back to you!” She pulls at the strings of her apron with a sigh. “Finish the meat, find the lobsters.” She turned to you. “Lose the coat, Kiddo.” Her apron is pulled from her hips and Vision barley catches it. “We’ll be right back.”

You stand, pulling off the emerald green coat. One look at your dress and Wanda lets out a gasp.

“Can’t go out like that.” She grabbed the coat from you and folded it on your chair, the dress was covered and she had hoped that the coat would have been an effective shield.

“I can go home and change.” You say with a wipe of your cheek. Wanda stops you from moving.

“No, allow me.” She clicks her fingers and - with a dramatic puff of smoke - your old dress is replaced with a beautiful turquoise one, white lining on the collar and floral skirt to match. It was gorgeous. “Perfection. Now, lets go.”

You give a quick “sorry” at the door, startling Mrs. Hart as you trail behind your frazzled friend.

“I hope you’re hungry.” She said with a smile.

“Starved, is more like it.” Mr. Hart replied as he pushed off the couch, a frown permanently placed on his face.

“My head is starting to feel woozy.” A low growl from your stomach seemed to agree with Mrs. Hart, luckily a loud bang from the kitchen covered the sound.

“Were either of you aware that married men are killing single men at an alarming rate?” Wanda’s hands never stopped moving, and the nervous chuckle only made Mr. Hart more frustrated.

“What are you going on about?” Another loud bang made you all jump and you had to stop yourself from cursing. “And what’s going on in there?” You luckily didn’t have to stop him from moving as Wanda fell ontop of him, his hands catching her by the arms.

The room seemed to spin, things were moving so quickly you could barley keep up. Wanda was still in the man’s arms when a loud knocking filled the room, you were sure you were going to faint.

“Who could that be?” Wanda practically ran to the door, happy for the distraction and Vision was quick on her heels. Mrs. Hart pulled at your sleeve, a kind smile on her face.

“Are you alright, dear?”

“I... uh,” The words got lost in your mouth. Could everyone just calm down for a second? The slam of the door forced you both out of the small moment.

“Who was that?” Her husband asked.

“A salesman”

“Telegram!” Vision felt the glare of Mr. Hart. “A man selling telegrams.”

“Wouldn’t you know it.” Wanda added, hands behind her back. “Good news is more expensive.” You couldn’t hear what Vision said after that, but by the way his wife frowned and pulled her apron off him, it must’ve been yet another problem. She glided past you, the sight of a pineapple behind her back didn’t answer any questions, but you let her go on her way regardless.

“Well.” Vision said, hands on his hips proudly. “I think tonight’s going swimmingly. Anyone for Parcheesi?”

“My head is spinning.” Mrs. Hart replied, feet dragging her to the couch.

“Oh, Mrs. Hart -“ You grabbed her arm, gently helping her down as Vision fanned her face.

“Did you hear that? My wife’s head is spinning. Generally speaking, I don’t like her head to do that.” You could feel the annoyance radiating off him. “You know, I’m beginning to think you’re not management material, Vision.”

“Sir, if you could just wait a few -“ The glare he gave almost made your knees buckle, looking at Vision for help as he continued.

“You know, I had high hopes for you. But from what I’ve seen here tonight, you can barley keep it together. I mean, look around.” He gestured around him with his hands. “There’s all the chaos going on in your household. Now, when are we gonna eat?”

“Dinner is served.”

Oh, thank God.

The table behind you was set to perfection; each plate the perfect distance apart, and each with a set of cutlery and wine glass. You’re stomach was growling and you were quick to move to your seat - the only glass filled with some kind of juice - and gave Wanda a grateful smile.

“Breakfast for dinner? How very-“

“European.” Mrs. Hart interrupted, eyes glued to the table.

“Ohh! Let’s have a toast!” Vision moves to his end of the table, the Harts following as you raise your glass. “To my lovely and talented wife.”

“To our esteemed guests.” Wanda adds with a smile. You all clink your glasses with a small “cheers” and take a sip of the juice. It was sugary sweet, but did nothing to fill your belly. “Well, please eat before it gets cold.”

You don’t have to be told twice; sitting besides Mrs. Hart - who Vision was quick to offer a chair to like a gentleman - and letting your napkin rest on your thighs.

“So,” She said as everyone settled properly in their seats. “Where did you two move from?” She grabbed her napkin. “What brought you here?” You cut a small piece of the sausage and raised it to your mouth. “How long have you been married? And why don’t you have children yet?” Wanda let out a small laugh, so many questions!

“I think what my wife means to say is that we moved from...” You took another bite, warmth filling your body, and it took everything in to not gulp down the whole plate.

“Yes, we moved from...” Wanda’s face was a exact mirror of her husband’s, both struggling with empty memory.

“And we were married...”

You couldn’t stop eating, fork always full of egg and toast, the conversation becoming background noise.

“Yes, yes, we were married in...”

“Well? Moved from where ? Married when?” Mr. Hart’s voice snapped you back, another bite and you swallowed it down with a gulp of juice, eyes now between each end of the table.

“Now, patience, Arthur. They’re setting up their story. Let them tell it.” His wife waved him off with a smile and bite of food. Wanda stumbled once more, her fumbling only causing the tension to rise.

“Yes, what exactly is your story?”

“Oh, just leave the poor kids alone.” You took another sip, gagging as you felt something on your tongue.

“No, really, I mean,” It was slimy and thin, and as you pulled it out with your fingers, confusion filled you at the sight of a brown leaf. “I think it’s a perfectly simple question. Honestly.” It dropped to your plate and you picked up the almost empty glass, the bottom was a dark orange, and the hundreds of little pieces floating in it made you feel sick. “Why did you come here? Why?”

Something’s Wrong

Mr. Hart slammed his hand down on the table, startling you to the point of completey dropping your glass, juice staining the carpet by your feet. You were left helpless as you stared at the man in front of you.

“Damn it, why? Why did you...” The air from his lungs vanishes, face turning red as he chokes.

“Oh, Arthur, stop it.”

Why won’t you move?

“Stop it.”

This doesn’t make sense

“Stop it. Stop it. Stop it.”

Mr. Hart grips the table, letting out another failed attempt of breath before vanishing under it, still chocking.

“Stop it. Stop it. Stop it.”

This is wrong, all wrong

“Stop it.”

I want to go home

“Vision, help him.”

And just like that, the world makes sense again.

You let out a shaky laugh as Vision helps the man up from the floor. You take one more bite of food as Mr. Hart checks his watch with a sigh.

“Well, would you look at the time?”

“Yes. We’d better be going.” Mrs. Hart replies, standing as you follow suit, making sure to tuck your chair in.

“Well... are you both alright?” Wanda asks, giving you a small smile as they walk to the door.

“We had such a lovely time.” She turns quickly and wraps her hands around Wanda’s eyes. “This guest is leaving your home.” She laughs.

“Yes, thank you for coming.”

You pay them no mind; body moving passed them on autopilot, you didn’t care to hear them say goodbye, didn’t care when Mr. Hart told Vision about a promotion, or when Wanda offered you the guest bedroom since it was just “too late to walk home alone, you didn’t care.

And when you finally slipped into the covers, eyes shutting as sleep took hold of you, you finally felt at peace.

Your mind was yours, and yours alone for the first time that day, and you wanted nothing more then to wake up under the star-lights in your bedroom.

Tag list (open, just ask)

@white-wolf-buckaroo @y-napotat @learning-howto-be-myselfx3 @fruitiseavey

All my stuff is open, and I’m always happy to hear from people so feel free to let me know what ya thought. I always get stuck halfway through writing but I hope it wasn’t too hard to read

Off to the sixties we go

#daughter!reader #marvel imagine #marvel x reader #wandavison x reader #wandavision imagine #wanda maximoff imagine #teen!reader #stark!reader #marvel x y/n #wandavision x you #marvel x you

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adhd-disaster-willie · 3 years

Text

you're the one that brings the sun; chapter 1/6

Summary: Alex is prepared for every single variable except, apparently, the one in which his roommate is drop dead gorgeous and Alex is an absolute clusterfuck of a human being who falls for the first pretty boy on he sees on campus.

Willex roommate au!

Warnings: Swearing

Notes: The title is from the song “I Dare You” by the Regrettes. I’ve actually planned this fic out so here’s to hoping I don’t get burned out halfway through. It might end up having 6 or 7 chapters, 5 is kind of just an estimate.

---

When Alex was 11, his mother proudly plastered his report card to the fridge and exclaimed that one day, her little boy would go to Harvard. His father gripped his shoulder with pride and Alex beamed up at his parents like they’d just told him he had superpowers. 3 years later, he was 14 and teetering on the edge of failure in the majority of his classes. He wasn’t stupid by any means, just preoccupied. He’d started a band with his best friends and that felt like the most important thing in the whole world, and high school was new and scary, so it was easier to not pour all his focus into school. His parents’ smiles faltered but they kept up hope, Alex could tell. 2 years later, he stood shaking and crying outside of the Molina’s garage and suddenly, the concept of going to college begun to feel distant and fake. But he’s 18 now, and somehow, miraculously, gazing at the piles of boxes in the back of Ray’s car and swallowing down a lump in his throat.

It sure isn’t Harvard, but a part of Alex feels giddy at the fact that he’s attending a public college that was relatively easy to get into; oh his parents would be rolling in their proverbial graves. What didn’t make him quite so happy though, was the looming fact that he’d be living with some random person, because for some godforsaken reason, the college wouldn’t allow freshmen to choose their roomates. Some bullshit about meeting new people and socializing.

“Hey, ‘Lex. Dude, you’ll be fine.” Luke shakes his shoulders, before swinging one arm around him and the other around Reggie.

“Says the one who isn’t even going to college,” Alex grumbles, slipping from Luke’s grip and into the front seat of the car.

“Yea cause I don’t need it. Not my fault you’re both nerds,” Luke retorts.

“I’m not a nerd, I just like to have insurance-”

“Yea, back-up plan, safety net, heard it a million times. Reggie’s a nerd though.”

“Old news, dude,” Alex says.

“I am not a nerd!” Reggie protests indignantly.

“Tell that to your 2 years of college credit in math.”

Luke nods in agreement. “Nerd.”

“Math is fun!”

“You’re horrible.” Alex makes a mock gagging noise.

Julie comes bounding out of the house, her arms decked with various baked goods. She tosses herself in the backseat beside Reggie and Luke, looking quite pleased with herself at being able to force Luke to sit in the middle. “Tía was apparently up all night baking,” she explains, passing the sweets up to Alex. “Don’t be surprised if she shows up at your dorm with food every day.”

Alex snorts. “I would not object to that.”

Julie sighs, leaning back in her seat. “You guys are so lucky, I’m tired of high school. Damn September birthday,” Julie grumbles. Her birthday is just after the cut off date, so she would be 18 for the majority of senior year, but is just barely too young to be in the same grade as the boys.

Reggie leans over and pats her arm sympathetically, earning an offended squeak from Luke, who’s only pushed further into the back of the seat.

“Don’t worry!” Alex chirps sarcastically. “You get to spend more time with Luke, since he’ll be squatting in your garage!”

“Oh, joy,” Julie deadpans.

“I am not a squatter!” Luke protests, kicking the back of Alex’s seat.

“No kicking! I’m holding food!”

“Y’know Alex, you’ve been staying in the studio for 2 years, you’re not one to talk!” Luke argues.

“I have a job.”

“A stupid job.”

“A stupid job that gets you free coffee.”

Reggie nodds to that, chewing on a cookie. “Can’t risk losing your coffee privileges.”

Julie groans loudly and stuck her head out the window. “DAAAAD! Let’s goooo!” She cries.

“Wow, I didn’t know you wanted to get rid of me so badly,” Alex says, clutching his chest dramatically.

“Oh shut up Lexi, I just wanna meet your’s and Reggie’s new best friends!” Julie says, laughing.

“I’m not gonna be best friends with my roommate.”

“Yea, Alex forgot how to do that!”

“Luke I will smother you in your sleep!”

At this, Ray approaches the car with a raised eyebrow. “No one’s planning a murder, I hope?” He asks, chuckling as he slides into the drivers seat.

“No sir!” Reggie replies, grinning.

“Not yet,” Alex mumbles under his breath.

“Alright boys, who’s ready for college!” Ray says, starting the car.

“I’m gonna be sick.”

---

“And that’s the last of it!” Ray claps a hand over Alex’s shoulder and smiles encouragingly.

Alex nods tensely, gripping the strap of his fannypack tighter.

The dorm’s probably as good as he’s gonna get. One reasonably sized bedroom complete with two horribly uncomfortable beds, a kitchen with a fridge that was in no way large enough to fit even a weeks worth of meals, a tiny living room that would probably fit a couch and a TV at the most, and a bathroom that smelled suspiciously of mustard. Really it isn’t terrible, but Alex has a habit of noticing every little detail, especially the ones that could be a problem at some point. His roommate hasn’t arrived yet, so he’s standing amongst his various boxes, anxiety pulsing in his chest.

Julie grips his hand tightly and smiles, tears pricking the edges of her eyes. “Hey, Alex, you’re gonna be okay.” She squeezes his hand briefly.

Alex nods, exhaling shakily. “Yea, yea I know. It’s just…”

“A change, I know. But this is a good change. And-” she hauls Reggie and Luke over to them. “-we’re all here if you need to call someone and talk. And dad, and Tía, and I bet your roommate will be super cool.”

“Or a serial killer.”

“Just pray he’s not a football player,” Reggie stage-whispers, shuddering.

“God, don’t even suggest that!” Alex whines.

Encouragements and teary hugs are passed along, as well as a promise to meet at the Olive Garden nearby for dinner in a few hours, and then Alex’s posse is off to get Reggie settled, and Alex is left alone in the dorm. Alright.

Alex takes a deep breath, steeling himself, before beginning to wander the dorm. He’s anxious to start unpacking without his roommate and risk doing something that they wouldn’t like. Even choosing a bed feels wrong, he really doesn’t want to get off on the wrong foot with this person. But leaving the dorm meant people everywhere so that was a definite no. He sighs, lowering himself to the wooden floor and pulling out his phone.

“Yea… uh huh. Yes Caleb, I got here fine. No the Uber driver did not try and kidnap me. The boxes- the boxes are not too heavy. Okay. Okay. Yea, bye. Mhm.”

Alex looks up hesitantly upon hearing the voice nearing his dorm. The person standing in the doorway is well… less of a person and more of a large stack of boxes threatening to fall over any second. “Hello?” Alex stands up and makes his way to the boy stood in the entrance.

Said boy pokes his head out from behind his boxes and grins crookedly. “Hi, uh, I’m Willie!” And well, Alex is a goner. He swallows thickly, breath catching in the back of his throat. Willie attempts to adjust the boxes but ultimately fails, sending them tumbling to the ground amongst several muttered curses. “Well… nothing fragile in there,” he falters slightly. “I think.”

“Um…”

“Right! Sorry, uh.” Willie holds his hand out and Alex shakes it tentatively.

“Alex.”

“Alex, cool.” Willie smiles again, his dark eyes twinkling as he does so, smile lines popping out. He brushes his hair -which looks so soft and pretty- behind his ear to reveal a small golden hoop on his right lobe. Alex is dead, actually 100% dead. Because he’d been prepared for every single variable except, apparently, the one in which his roommate is drop dead gorgeous and Alex is an absolute clusterfuck of a human being who falls for the first pretty boy on he sees on campus.

Alex forces out a smile, all too aware that he’s still standing stiff and awkward in front of Willie, his grip on his fannypack tight enough to make his knuckles glow white. Then Willie coughs as some sort of attempt to fill the silence. “Sorry!” Alex squeaks. “Do you need help with the… the uh, boxes?”

“Oh yea, that’d be great!” Willie replies, beaming. “I don’t think there’s anything fragile in there, but y’know, my memory is absolute shit so if I broke some fancy china dishes I didn’t even know I owned, don’t be too shocked.”

Alex laughs anxiously. “Yea uh… I didn’t start unpacking cause I um… I didn’t want to claim a bed and stuff with-without your input?” His voice cracks at the end and he winces because Jesus fucking christ Alex.

Willie chuckles and Alex notes that he has the kind of laugh that echoes through your whole body and settles right in your heart. “ ‘S cool, man, I don’t mind.”

“Right, cool. Do you uh… are you okay if I take the bed farthest from the window? I’m not- not much of a morning person, and the window is… it’s east facing” Alex mutters, his gaze focused on his feet which are rocking back and forth at a rapid pace.

“Yea, of course,” Willie replies. “I don’t think I’ve woken up later than 8 in 5 years.”

“That’s horrific!” Alex cries, momentarily forgetting his anxiety. He steps back and blushes an even deeper red upon realizing how stupid he’s being. “I mean- I just… sorry, I just meant that-”

“You’re good, dude. I don’t bite.”

Alex cracks a tentative smile. “So uh… I’ll just start unpacking then.”

Willie shoots him a thumbs up and smiles once again, which is a thing he apparently does a lot.

An hour later, Alex’s belongings are unpacked and organized and the room feels a bit more his. He feels slightly lighter, exhaling and closing his eyes briefly. This isn’t so bad. Fiddling with the hem of his hoodie, he shuffles out into the living room where Willie is presumably unpacking. Except that he’s not.

Willie is laying upside down on a couch that somehow appeared while Alex was gone and he’s flipping through a tattered magazine while his belongings remain mostly unpacked.

“This quiz says that I should try roller skating,” Willie sniffs. “Some personality test this is- oh hey Alex!” He scrambles up so that he can look Alex in the eyes properly, and points to the magazine in his hand. “Found this in a box, not sure how it got there since I’ve never even subscribed to one of these, but there’s a chocolate chip cookie recipe in here.” He stops for a moment, pondering. “Personally I prefer peanut butter cookies, ooh especially fresh out of the oven. There’s this bakery near my house that-”

“Did you get… any unpacking done?” Alex asks, raising an eyebrow.

Willie looks around at his boxes and laughs sheepishly. “Well I unpacked one and opened 3 so… some, yes.”

“Where’d the couch come from?” Alex pokes the cushion warily, as if afraid that it’s full of bugs.

“Room across the hall,” Willie says, pointing. “They both brought couches and didn’t have room for two we got the one with more stains.”

“Right.” Alex’s reply is forced and tense, and he winces upon realizing. Truthfully, he hadn’t expected his roommate to become so comfortable so fast and he felt like he was several steps behind. Damn extroverts. Drumming his hands against his thighs, Alex slowly sits down on the other side of the couch, pointedly looking ahead instead of at Willie.

“So.” Willie scoots closer, sitting cross legged with his elbows on his thighs and chin resting in his palms. “What’s your major?”

Small talk, god Alex hates small talk. “Um, music,” he answers.

“Ah, that’s cool dude.” Willie nods.

“Uh, what about you?” Alex asks.

“Art,” Willie replies, grinning. “Be prepared for paint stains, like, everywhere.” He chuckles and nudges Alex’s shoulder playfully. Alex is going to implode, he’s sure of it.

Alex laughs awkwardly. “So uh… what’s wrong with rollerskating?”

Willie shoves his shoulder again. “Everything, dude! Well-” he cuts himself off, thinking. “-I just kinda suck at it, definitely better at my skateboard.” He jerks his head in the direction of a skateboard leaned against the wall and Alex wonders how he didn’t notice that.

“Oh, that’s- that’s cool. I rollerblade but I uh, I can’t skateboard to save my life.”

Somehow, they slip into a comfortable rhythm, and Alex notes that his anxiety no longer has him in a chokehold. Willie seems to have that affect; he’s just so… open. Alex doesn’t realize it yet, but he’s subconsciously created a folder in the back of his mind labelled “Willie,” and he doesn’t think he’s capable of forgetting anything Willie will ever say to him.

“- that’s why airplane food is just, horrible. Cause you basically lose like 30% of your tastebuds because of the elevation.” Willie smiles at Alex, gaging his response.

Alex would rather die than admit that he’s still trying to figure out how the topic of airplane food came up, so he just nods enthusiastically, actively stopping his eyes from dancing across Willie’s face, which is practically glowing in the evening sun. Evening. Shit. Alex pulls out his phone frantically. “Shit.” He says it out loud this time.

Willie’s brow furrows in confusion. “You good, dude?”

“Uh yea I’m just, I’m supposed to be meeting my fam- uh my friends for dinner and I have to be there in like 5 minutes.” He ignores the way Willie’s expression falls, convinced he’s just seeing things.

“Yea um, of course. I won’t keep you.” Willie stands up, his posture the stiffest that Alex has seen it in the whole 3 hours they’ve been acquainted for. “I’ll just… order a pizza.”

Alex hesitates in the doorway, weighing his options, which has never been his strong suit. “Do you want to join me?” He blurts impulsively. Willie looks at him in surprise. “I mean only- only if you want of course, we’ve only really uh, known each other for a few hours and you- you probably don’t want to, it was stupid. I’ll just- I’ll just go-”

“No! I’d… I’d like to, eating pizza alone in the dark sounds a little pathetic,” Willie responds.

Alex smiles genuinely. “Ok, ok that’s uh. Cool. That’s cool.”

---

Alex is already regretting this. The restaurant isn’t too crowded, he notices with a relieved breath. But it’s loud. It’s loud and yet only one group of people is talking. Alex doesn’t even need to guess who.

“Ok but- no- no- the whole song would be better!”

“Say banjo one more time, I dare you!”

“Banjo.”

“Julie, what the hell?! This is betrayal!”

“You stole my breadstick, it’s only fair.”

Alex coughs, quieting the table to a dull roar.

“Alex!” Julie pulls him down to sit next to her. “Oh? Who’s this?” Reggie is grinning wickedly and Luke waggles his eyebrows in a way that makes Alex want to shave them off.

“This is uh, my roommate Willie,” Alex responds, his voice raising an octave. “He didn’t have plans so I uh… I invited him, I hope that’s ok.”

“Of course it’s ok!” Julie pats the space on the other side of Alex and Willie sits down, appearing… oddly nervous.

“Congrats! Your Alex’s first new friend since,” Luke taps his chin, pretending to think. “7th grade.”

Alex’s face promptly falls into his hands. He’s seriously considering the whole, shaving Luke’s eyebrows in his sleep thing.

Reggie leans forward conspiratorially. “What’s your opinion on banjos?” He asks, making a point to ignore Luke’s dramatic complaining.

Willie raises his eyebrows, clearly confused. “Um. No comment?”

“I’m… sorry about them,” Alex says apolegetically. “Uh, this is Luke, Reggie, and Julie-” he gestures to each of them; Reggie waves, beaming happily. “-and Julie’s dad should be…” He trails off, looking around.

“He had to take a phone call, something about Carlos refusing to eat dinner until he proves the house is haunted,” Julie explains, clearly biting back a laugh.

“I… okay.” Alex shakes his head. “Are we waiting for more food or did Reggie eat it all?”

“Ha ha,” Reggie punctuates his statement by sticking out his tongue. “We’re waiting for the actual meals-”

“Yea Luke already ate the entire bread basket.” Julie shoots a glare in Luke’s direction.

“Well… you suggested we get hotdogs,” Luke grumbles, crossing his arms over his chest. “Payback.”

“Okay,” Julie laughs.

Willie leans over to whisper loudly to Alex, “What’s the story with the hotdogs?”

“Don’t tell him!” Luke cries, leaning across the table and slamming his palms down.

“We don’t talk of the hot-dogs,” Reggie mutters miserably.

“Food poisoning.” Alex shudders slightly. “Very bad food poisoning.”

“We almost died,” Reggie says, eyes widening. “Like, for real death. I’m pretty sure I was a ghost for a few seconds.”

“Reg, you were not a ghost,” Alex says, speaking like Reggie’s a 10 year old talking about monsters under his bed.

“I was!”

“You were not!”

“So,” Luke smiles mischievously, taking Reggie and Alex’s bickering as an opportunity to apparently torture the latter. Despite Alex’s warning glares, he turns to Willie with an innocent expression. “What kind of music do you like?”

“Luke,” Alex hisses, all too familiar with Luke’s antics.

“Hmmm.” Willie is painfully oblivious to Alex’s panicked expression as he mulls over his answer. “A lot of stuff really.” He shrugs. “Rock, pop, I like those lo-fi playlists when I’m trying to study.”

Luke nods, clearly pleased with the answer, but he isn’t done and Alex wants to hide under the table. He knows what’s coming next. “Thoughts on… drummers?”

“Luke.” Alex is seconds from lunging across the table.

“Drummers?” Willie asks, tilting his head confusedly.

“Yup,” Luke says, popping the p and still smiling like he’s some sort of innocent puppy-dog and not an absolute bastard.

“Hot,” Willie jokes. Alex can’t even hide the way he manages to choke on his own spit, and Luke and Reggie have never been great at subtlety, turning to Alex with matching shit-eating grins. Willie either doesn’t notice or is kind enough not to comment on it. “Yea, pretty sure young Roger Taylor was my gay awakening.”

Reggie is full on giggling now, and Alex’s entire face is gleaming a bright red. Willie glances around the table, puzzled.

“Mhm.” Luke nods before swiftly turning to Alex. “Hey Alex, by the way, you left your drumsticks in the car, do you need them back?” His voice is sickeningly sweet, coated in some sort of poisoned honey. It’s Willie’s turn to choke on nothing, failing to disguise it as a spontaneous coughing fit.

“Fine,” Alex squeaks as he sinks further down in his seat. If he pulls out his phone and messages Luke a flurry of threats, that’s no one’s business. He dares a glance at Willie, who has become quite fascinated with his hands, which are tapping out a mindless rhythm on the table, his cheeks and the tips of his ears dusted red.

Needless to say, Alex makes sure Luke doesn’t even get to look at the next bread basket.

---

I hope you liked it! Tell me if you want to be added to the taglist :)

I’m hoping to update at least once a week, but who knows. Ok thats all.

chapter 2

Chapter 3

chapter 4

chapter 5

chapter 6

#willex #jatp #willex fic #jatp fic #julie and the phantoms #alex mercer #willie jatp #willie nolastname #julie molina #luke patterson #reggie peters #ray molina #willow writes #ytotbts #you’re the one that brings the sun

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babybluebex · 3 years

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Hi, i was wondering if you could write something where Sebastian Stan is a dad to a little boy and the one who always reads to him before bed, but one night Seb is very tired after shooting, and reader is the one putting him to bed, but the little one refuses to go to sleep until Seb reads to him.

Sorry for my bad Engish, it's not my first languaje. Also, if you don't want to write this I totally understand. 🥰

no! i love the idea!! i tweaked it a bit to fit an idea i was already writing, so i hope you liked what i did with it :) and ur english is perfect my love

goodnight, sleep tight [sebastian stan x reader]

➽ pairing: dad!sebastian stan x fem!reader( y/n) ➽ word count: 2.2k ➽ summary: see above! ➽ warnings: mentions of postpartum depression, angst ➽ a/n: the image of seb in bucky’s costume, getting a little baby to fall asleep makes me go uwu

“Are you guys coming to set today?” Sebastian asked, pressing a kiss to my head.

“I’ll see if Andy wants to,” I mumbled with a yawn. My husband’s call time was six AM, which was so much earlier than I ever wanted to be awake, so he usually woke me up with a goodbye kiss. “I think we can manage it, though.”

“Ah, well,” Sebastian shrugged. “He’s barely a year old. I think he’ll like it.”

“But he’s also your son,” I countered.

“What does that mean?” Sebastian asked. Even in the dark of the room, I could see the happy glint in his blue eyes.

“He’s stubborn,” I said. “Won’t do anything if he doesn’t want to.”

“That’s not a ‘me’ thing,” Sebastian told me. “That’s a Romanian thing. We’re stubborn people.”

“Regardless,” I sighed. “I think he might be scared of the costume. The mask and the arm and all; it might be a bit much.”

“He’ll be able to tell it’s me,” Sebastian said. “Kids are like dogs, they can recognize people by smell. Right?”

“Maybe your smell,” I chuckled, my throat dry from the night of sleep. “Mr. Bucket-Of-KY-Jelly.”

“That was uncalled for,” Sebastian chuckled. He leaned over the bed, bracing his left hand next to me head, and I turned to fully look at him. “I smell great.”

“When you shower, you do,” I said, scrunching my nose, and Sebastian laughed deep in his chest. He leaned down and brushed his lips against mine, giving me the gentlest of kisses. Sebastian wasn’t usually a gentle creature-- his kisses usually left me with bruised and puffy lips or marks littering my neck and breasts-- but, in the morning, he was so soft and sweet.

“We’ll continue this later,” Sebastian said. His long hair fell into his face, and I tenderly pushed it behind his ear. Adjusting to the new everything that Seb required for this film was an experience; the long hair, the stubble, and the weight training was grueling for all three of us, especially little Andrei. He missed his daddy dearly, but Sebastian always made up for lost time with nightly tummy-time and stories. Andrei James Stan had loved his dad since before he was born-- the little bastard always kicked up a storm when Sebastian rubbed my belly or talked to me-- and, when he was gone filming something for a long time, Andy got a little upset and overly clingy. Call it separation anxiety or just plain missing his daddy, but Sebastian always made it up to Andy with a special Daddy/Andy night (which also gave me the opportunity to be by myself for a while).

“I hope not too much later,” I whispered, pulling him down to kiss me again. “I miss you, Seb.”

“I know, baby,” Sebastian whispered as he pressed his forehead to mine. “I miss you too. Maybe we can get a babysitter or something on Sunday.”

“Great idea,” I said. “Now, you gotta go or you’ll be late.”

“Ugh,” Sebastian groaned.

“Go!” I giggled. “My big super-soldier. You gotta show everyone what you’re made of.”

Just as I spoke, from across the room, Andy made a squealing noise in his crib. The trailer we were living in while Sebastian shot Winter Soldier was a bit small, but it worked perfectly. “Oh, really?” Sebastian said, turning his head to look at Andy. “And what do you think I’m made of, mister?”

Sebastian moved to his crib as I turned on the lamp, and I watched Sebastian, all muscles and beard and long hair, reach into the crib and pull his infant son into his arms. Andy was born premature, so he was still pretty small, and it made my heart melt. His fluffy hair was in-between a blond and a brown, sorta like how Sebastian’s hair was when he was little, and he had the most beautiful blue eyes. “Really?” Sebastian playfully grimaced, nuzzling his nose against Andy’s. “I think you’re made of yogurt and farts, young man.”

“Seb!” I snorted. “Don’t say that to him!”

“He is, though!” Sebastian laughed, Andy’s little fist tightening around a lock of his hair. “I don’t see you denying it.”

“Don’t say our son’s made of farts,” I protested, getting out of bed. “He’s made of wonderful things, like love and kindness--”

“And yogurt,” Sebastian added.

“And yogurt,” I acquiesced. Andy did eat a lot of yogurt. “Speaking of, is the little monster hungry? Is that why you’re up so early?”

Andy nodded, patting his tummy, and Sebastian gave him to me. “Have a good day today, babies,” Sebastian told me, kissing my forehead, then brushing Andy’s hair back and kissing his soft head. “Just text me when you’re coming by.”

“Sure thing.”

“This is Sebastian’s baby?”

Scarlet held Andy in a tender embrace, gazing at him with surprise. She was looking at him with a look of wonderment, like she couldn’t believe that Sebastian of all people could be capable of producing another human being. Nobody on the cast had properly met Andy yet, hence why Andy and I visiting set was such a big deal. “Looks just like him,” she added.

“Acts like him too,” I chuckled. “Stubborn as hell and eats everything in sight.”

“Damn, this really is his kid,” Scarlet laughed, and Andy thumped his head down onto her shoulder. “He’s so sweet.”

Andy smiled at Scarlet and gave a happy squeal, and Scarlet turned to face me. “Who’s that?” She asked in a gentle voice, and Andy’s smile turned to me.

“Mama!” He exclaimed, reaching for me, and Scarlet and I laughed.

“Smart as hell,” Scarlet added.

“That comes from me,” I chuckled. Andy took a fistful of my shirt and started to chew on the fabric, but I was used to it. He was teething and chewed on everything; most of my shirts were a little frayed from him.

“Mean,” said Sebastian from behind me, and I turned and gave a gasp of surprise. I hadn’t ever seen him in full costume before, and it was a shock at first. A leather vest and tight dark jeans, tactical gear everywhere, and a dark mask obscuring the bottom half of his face. And, of course, covering his left arm, a cast-like structure that looked like silver metal with a red star on his shoulder. The arm was covered in little orange dots-- I’m assuming to assist in mo-cap during editing-- and he wore a leather glove on his left hand.

“Jesus God,” I laughed. “Scared the hell outta me. You look good, babes.”

“I know,” Sebastian told me, and I knew that he was smirking at me under the mask. “You look beautiful too.”

“Not really,” I said. “I’m not even wearing makeup.”

“Still beautiful,” he said, and he reached up and tugged the mask off. He leaned down and, cradling my cheek in his gloved hand, gently kissed my lips. “And the little rascal?”

“Mm,” I hummed, breaking the kiss. “He’s sleepy. Getting cranky and all.”

“Has he eaten?”

“Just did,” I told him. “Before you ask, yes, it was yogurt. But I also gave him some of those blueberry puffy crackers.”

“Did you save any for me?” Sebastian asked, his eyebrows raising.

“In my pocket,” I replied. Sebastian and I had quickly discovered that certain baby foods were delicious, especially the fruit-flavored puffy crackers that Andy favored, and I always ended up bringing some with me wherever I went.

“I know that you’re not eating baby food,” Scarlet laughed as Sebastian reached into my pocket and extracted the plastic bag of star-shaped crackers.

“They’re good as hell,” Sebastian said, popping a handful into his mouth. “Want one?”

“I’ll pass,” Scarlet laughed.

“Ask Mackie, I’m sure he’ll tell you the same,” Sebastian said. Then, he turned his attention back to me. “I could read him a quick story to get him down, if you want.”

I shrugged. “If you really want to,” I said.

“Alright, stinker,” Sebastian said, exchanging the crackers for Andy. “Did you bring a book?”

“Shit, no,” I mumbled.

“Shit!”

“Oh, c’mon, man,” I sighed as Scarlet laughed. I frequently forgot that Andy was at the stage where he was repeating things that he heard, and usually Sebastian and I were good about not cussing, because Andy would repeat it for the rest of time. “Don’t expose me like this.”

“I can come up with a story,” Sebastian said through stifled laughter. “Let’s find a place to get comfy, huh, mister? A nice chair, maybe? I bet Uncle Chris has a really nice chair we can settle in…”

As he walked away, I felt a presence behind me. I had briefly met Chris at the First Avenger premiere a few years ago, when Sebastian and I weren’t even properly dating yet, but Sebastian and I had eloped, hence no wedding to see him at. “Hey, Evans,” I said and gave him a quick fist bump.

“Where’re they going?” Chris asked, munching at an orange.

“To steal your chair in the shade,” I said. “Andy’s getting sleepy and only sleeps when Seb reads him a story.”

“Cute,” Chris said. “Ya know, Sebastian never shuts up about the two of you.”

“Really?” I asked. “Like, what does he say?”

“Just little stories,” Chris said. “Something you said, or something Andy did. Or just the quick little ‘we had this for dinner’ or ‘we watched this movie last night’. He adores you two.”

“That’s nice,” I said softly. “I always worry if he’s getting sick of having these two lives. It must be a lot for him.”

“I can’t read minds,” Chris said. “But I don’t think he could ever get sick of you.”

I nodded slowly. “I was diagnosed with postpartum depression after Andy was born,” I started quietly. “I was so anxious that I wasn’t sleeping, I couldn’t stop crying, I… I even thought about packing a bag and leaving and not coming back. It was so fucking hard, and I thought for sure that Sebastian would ask for a divorce or something. I guess I’m still a little worried about that. But that’s… That’s really helpful, Chris. Thanks.”

I tried to contain my tears, but Chris must have seen through my crumbling facade, because he wrapped me in a tight hug. “You’re so strong, Y/N,” he whispered. “Know that I’m proud of you, and Scar, and Mackie, and all of us, but especially Sebastian. Man, he fucking loves you so much. There’s nothing that you could do that would make him hate you or want to divorce you. I don’t know much about your relationship, but I know that.”

I was glad I wasn’t wearing makeup, because I knew that it would be smeared across my cheeks by now. It was one thing to hear it from Sebastian, but from an outsider like Chris, it meant the world. “Thanks,” I whispered. “That means so fucking much.”

“And, hey, I kinda know how it goes with a baby,” Chris began. “My sisters have kids, and I’ve played babysitter plenty of times. And I’d say I’m pretty good at it. No complaints so far. So, if you ever need a babysitter to get a break for a night, I’d love to help.”

“That would be so nice,” I sighed into his shoulder. “Not to be TMI…” I paused to let him stop me, but his hand comfortingly ran up my back. “It’s been a while since it was just… Me and Seb, ya know what I mean?”

“I do,” Chris said. “You have my number.”

I nodded and detached myself from Chris, and I chuckled as I wiped my face dry. “I’m gonna go find my boys,” I said. “Thanks for that, man.”

“Anytime, Mrs. Stan,” Chris said with a smile.

It wasn’t hard to find Sebastian and Andrei. They were settled in a canvas chair under a tarp shade, with Andy’s little head resting on his shoulder. He seemed like he was already out like a light. “... So Steve is like ‘Bucky?’ and Bucky looks at his friend and he says ‘Who the hell is Bucky?’, which is not that good. Because Bucky should know who Steve is, right?”

“Are you telling him spoilers for the movie?” I asked, putting my hand on Sebastian’s shoulder.

“It’s the only story I could come up with on the spot,” Sebastian said. “But he seems to like it… Or not like it. Does it mean he thinks it’s boring if he falls asleep during it?”

“I think it means that he loves you,” I said. “And he finds comfort in you, even when you look like that.”

“Look like what?” Sebastian asked. When I didn’t answer and only gave him a playful smile, he said, “When I look like what, Y/N Stan?”

“So different than usual,” I offered with a shrug, and Sebastian rolled his eyes.

“You’ll pay for that,” he told me, patting Andy’s back gently. “What were you talking to Chris about?”

“He was just telling me some nice things,” I said simply. “About how you’re always talking about me and Andy. And he said that he’d babysit whenever we need him to.”

“Hmm,” Sebastian hummed softly. “Sounds promising. I really miss you, baby.”

“I miss you too,” I told him. “Now, my love, you have work. Be good and kill Chris for me.”

“Anything for you, my baby.”

#sebastian stan #sebstan #seabass #sebastian stan x reader #sebastian stan x y./n #sebastian stan fanfiction #sebastian stan fluff #sebastian stan angst #sebastian stan x reader fluff #sebastian stan x reader angst

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