#anyway lemme get off of my soap box now

[bblackamethystt]

Alexa, play "Drama" by aespa

[chippedaxe]

𝑨 𝑳𝒊𝒕𝒕𝒍𝒆 𝑷𝒓𝒂𝒏𝒌

ੈ✩‧₊˚

Title: 𝑨 𝑳𝒊𝒕𝒕𝒍𝒆 𝑷𝒓𝒂𝒏𝒌

Warning(s): NSFW, not sure what other warnings ?? Pet names used, unedited (as always)

Pronouns : they/them, non specified genitalia (Or at least I tried to keep it vague)

Synopsis: What was a seemingly harmless prank turns out to cause a helluva lot of chaos.

Pairing: c!Sapnap X gn reader (Sub reader btw)

Word count: 2k

Note: simping for Sapnap hours <3 No one requested it but I suddenly got this idea and was like 'I have to write it, it's what the people would want' and I also wrote it bc Sapnap has no full fics in my masterlist yet <3

* lemme know if I've missed any warnings/tags or if you see a mistake in this fic that I can quickly change (I didn't rlly proof read, I just sorta scanned over it with my eyes)

ੈ✩‧₊˚

2nd POV

You walked to the bathroom after a long day. You were held back a few hours to work overtime without warning and you’re pretty sure that you won’t be getting paid extra, you weren’t in the mood and just needed to relax with a nice shower.

You entered your bathroom and closed the door, you assumed by default that Sapnap wouldn’t bother you since he’s normally such a good roommate and he hadn’t bothered you in the bathroom before! You stripped yourself of your clothes and hung up your outfit that you were planning to wear when you get out of the shower.

You placed the clothes on your sink counter and then approached the shower, your feet were placed on the bath mat as you stood there patiently. You took a deep breath before walking in, you turned both faucets and waited for the water to warm up to a good temperature. You got underneath the water and let the shower rinse off all of the dirt and negative emotions.

You could only hear the water hitting the shower floor since most of the water plugged up your ears, you tried to wash it out but failed so you better hope that no roommate of yours comes in here and plays games while you’re basically half deaf. You grabbed the soap and lathered it in your hands, your soapy hands running over your soft skin.

You came to a pause when you thought you heard something but decided to shrug it off “what would it be anyways? It’s not like Sapnap would come in here” you thought to yourself as you continued washing up. Your hand trailed down to your nether regions and you whined a bit as you cleaned down there, you were just cleaning but your body didn’t know that and so you became a bit aroused.

You ignored the arousal and just continued to have your shower, if you were still horny later on than you’d deal with it but not now. You rinsed the soap off your body and sighed, today was a rough and tiring day but you got through it.

You turned the shower off when you were finished getting clean, grabbing the towel and wrapping it around your body. You got out onto the bathroom mat and started to dry yourself with the towel, you glanced over towards the bathroom sink and your eyes widened.

“Where the fuck did my clothes go?” You asked out loud, your eyes searching the floor just in case they may have fallen down. You groaned in annoyance and wrapped your towel around yourself securely so it wouldn’t fall and then you stomped out to your bedroom to look for the little thief.

You had a look through your drawers to quickly get dressed and confront the troublemaker but it seemed as all your clothes had mysteriously disappeared. You pulled out all the drawers and you searched all the shelves, even your closet was completely empty apart from some scattered shoes.

You whined angrily and then stomped downstairs, your feet dragging along the floor “Sapnap!” You called out to him and he came to your call “what’s up? Like the new look!” Sapnap looked up and down at your towel covered body “Oh hush up! Where’s my clothes? I know you had something to do with their disappearance!” You accused.

“What? Me? What makes you think that?!” Sapnap gasped “they couldn’t have just grown legs and ran away!” You put your hands on your hips “psh, you got me! It’s just a harmless prank..” Sapnap put his hands up in defeat “Good- great, now give them back please!” You held your hand out expectedly.

“Why? I’m liking this outfit you’ve got on right now..” Sapnap teased “oh please, do not start with the flirting again” you rolled your eyes “I can’t give your clothes back right now but feel free to borrow some of mine!” Sapnap smiled “Huh?? Why can’t you give them back?” You exclaimed “if I told you than it’d ruin the whole prank! Just borrow some of my clothes” Sapnap invited you to his wardrobe.

You pouted and entered his room, roaming his closet and just mindlessly picking some of his clothes. “What am I meant to do about my underwear? Can you at least give that back?” You asked “you don’t need underwear, if you do then just borrow some of mine” Sapnap shrugged it off. You wanted to argue with him but found that he had already turned his back to you and left.

You changed into his clothes, his baggy shirt and pants made your body look more boxed up. You tugged at the fabric and it started to cling to your body more “stupid electricity-“ you tried to get it to move away from your curves but it stayed stuck to you.

You walked out into the living room and crossed your arms “When am I supposed to be ‘getting pranked’?” You sighed “oh fuck, you’re looking hella good in my clothes, maybe I’m doin you a favor” Sapnap licked his lips quickly. You scoffed and flicked his forehead “I look good in my own clothes too, you know??” You huffed “I personally think you’d look way better without any clothes, you looked amazing in that towel earlier” Sapnap wiggled his eyebrows at you.

“You’re disgusting!” You laughed at his little flirting attempts “you know you love it, baby!” Sapnap winked “oh I do” you decided to tease back which made the tip of his ears turn slightly red “oh you do? That really warms my heart, c’mere and show me some love!” Sapnap held his arms out to you but you only pushed him away.

“Your offer is very kind but I must decline, I don’t show love to people who steal my clothes!” You told him. Sapnap lowered his head and frowned “What’re you so upset for? I was gonna get you out of your clothes anyways” he jokes around “oh be quiet!” You slap his arm playfully.

He gasps and exclaims dramatically “OUCH! I can’t believe you’ve striked me! All I did was love you and this is how you repay me??” He falls to the ground slowly and fakes his own death “may I have one final request?” He whispered and You leaned down “maybe one..” you decided to play along “can a dying man please have one final kiss?” Sapnap closed his eyes.

You decided ‘fuck it’ and leaned in, your lips pressing against his. He caressed your cheek and deepened the kiss but you were quick to pull away “hey, I don’t go making out with thieves” you smirked “Oh? Maybe you can make this ol’ criminal a good guy again, what’dya think?” Sapnap wrapped an arm around your waist.

You looked up at him and smiled “oh of course, is this thief gonna return my clothes?” You asked “only if you return mine..” Sapnap whispered and started to slowly tug at your collar “hm.. I think we have a deal” you slipped your shirt off and stood there with a bare chest “you look good, baby” Sapnap blew a kiss at you.

You slipped the rest of your clothes off and kicked them away, you were completely naked now “Shit- I can’t believe you were hiding all this from me..” Sapnap came up to you and ran his hands down your sides “my eyes are up here, play boy” you grinned. Sapnap’s eyes snapped from your body up to meet your gaze.

You leaned in and kissed him again, your mouth parting to allow his tongue entrance. You wrapped your arms around his neck and panted slightly as you two were now having a heated make out session. You pulled away for air and gulped down your spit “Sapnap..” you breathed out “yes, Y/n?” He smirked.

“Take your clothes off, it’s unfair” you complained and started to pull at his clothes “calm down. I’ll take my clothes off whenever you ask, baby” Sapnap stripped himself hastily and then posed for you, your eyes narrowed as you stared at him “checking me out?” Sapnap laughed.

Your eyes couldn’t help but be attracted to the large thing hanging between his legs, his cock was huge and throbbing “oh fuck..” you muttered “what was that?” Sapnap got closer “your cock is humongous!” You shouted “haven’t I told you that before?” Sapnap kissed your neck gently as you two were speaking and taking in each other’s beautiful bodies.

His hands rubbed at your hips gently “I’ve been waiting so long for you, Y/n.. I’ve had this crazy attraction to you ever since we met, you were the only one that ever joked back with me..” Sapnap confessed “I always had a soft spot for your stupid jokes..” you whispered softly, “I KNEW IT!” Sapnap hugged you and started to pepper kisses all over your face excitedly.

“Does this mean we’re dating??” You questioned “no it means we’re mortal enemies, of course we’re dating!!” Sapnap joked around “oh wow..” you blushed softly before realizing that you two were in the middle of having sex “oh um..” your face was red.

“Do you need me to stretch you out, do a little foreplay?” Sapnap’s hands caressed your torso, his mouth leaving soft kisses on your neck which left tiny purple marks “ah.. No, I just need your cock now..” you were ready for him! Sapnap guided you to his bed and laid you down onto your back, he then crawled on top of you and smiled.

Sapnap positioned his huge throbbing cock with your tiny hole, you gasped and threw your head back when he started to slide into your slowly “does this hurt?” Sapnap asked when he saw your facial expressions “n-no! It feels so good..” you cooed.

Sapnap gripped onto your hips and started to thrust inside of you, his cock was overwhelmed by the feeling of your tight warm squishy insides. Your legs were quivering and your hands were covering your mouth, you felt embarrassed to have such loud lewd sounds spewing out of your mouth like this but it was hard to control.

Sapnap thrusted harder and faster which made you yelp, tears pricked at your eyes from the overwhelming pleasure that you were getting from his cock stretching your insides “Fuck! Gonna cum-“ you scratch his back, leaving light claw marks on his skin. Sapnap continued to fuck into you roughly “cum for me, baby..” he encouraged.

You went over the edge and came hard, your juices running down your thighs. Your head was thrown back and your eyes were rolling into the back of your head, your back arched and your legs were shaking uncontrollably from the stimulation “FUCK! I love you!-“ you then panted and whined as you tried to catch your breath after just having the best orgasm of your life.

Sapnap came shortly after, his cum leaking out of your hole and down your thighs “shit, sorry about the mess-“ you shut him up with a kiss “clean the mess. Return my clothes. Cuddle me.” You instructed as you tiredly laid down on the bed “will do! I love you too, Y/n” he gave your forehead a kiss before going to clean everything up.

[katnissmellarkkk]

Okayyyy here comes the next chapter ! Number .... lemme look. Okay, number six! 🥳🥳🥳

And yes, my thoughts as usual will be a messy, very Everlark-biased and full of typos. Letsss gooooo 🥰🥰🥰

Is this the first time Katniss and Peeta have been to their floor or is this just the most opportune time to explain and introduce the Tribute Center living quarters?

Also why are they called tributes anyway? That word suddenly seems weird to me after nine years... 🤔🤔🤔

“I've ridden the elevator a couple of times in the Justice Building back in District 12. Once to receive the medal for my father's death and then yesterday to say my final goodbyes to my friends and family” .... 😶😶 so only good memories and connotations to elevators then, huh?

“The walls of this elevator are made of crystal so that you can watch the people on the ground floor shrink to ants as you shoot up into the air.” My mind is just imagining the elevator in Andrew Garfield and Emma Stone’s Spider-Man movies 🤗.

“It's exhilarating and I'm tempted to ask Effie Trinket if we can ride it again, but somehow that seems childish” this is so cute and innocent omg. Katniss, like I said in my last chapter blog, still has some childlike innocence left in her 🥺🥺🥺. I’m a sad.

Also excuse the unnecessary extra gif use but 🤭🤭🤭

Oh wow, so Haymitch hasn’t been around since they were on the train? No wonder neither Katniss nor Peeta fled they could trust him for basically the entirety of the first book. 😐😐😐

You know it’s bad when Effie being around feels like a blessing to Katniss. Girl has more restraint than me, I’d have ripped off this woman’s janky wig by now without remorse. 🤷🏼‍♀️🤷🏼‍♀️🤷🏼‍♀️🤷🏼‍♀️

Effie acts like they’re her purebred show dogs. I know I know how is this news, that’s a blatant fact. The movies really softened her up tho for the general audience. And I bleed the movies and books together more than I should 😔😔😔

Well at least she’s made herself useful, trying to get Everlark sponsors ... even if it’s ultimately to benefit herself above anyone else .... 😤

Effie calling Twelve barbaric while she’s preparing them for the slaughter isn’t even ironic it’s like literally just brainless. Johanna probably had the nickname floating around for a lot of people before she officially knighted Katniss with it 😭

“Everyone has their reservations, naturally. You being from the coal district.” Is this how they refer to Twelve? So basically if a district makes a better item, it’s a more worthy one in the Capitol’s eyes? So essentially, if District Eight made like diamonds or pearls or whatever then it would be more worthy? So are the districts assigned their numbers (one, two, three, four, etc) based on their order of importance to the Capitol’s lifestyle? I always thought it was based on their distance in relation to the Capitol? Okay so I didn’t really pay much attention to these facts previously when I read these books ok look away I’m an idiot

Omg 😭😭😭😭 Effie is such an idiot. But the coal turns to pearls thing is my favorite line from her only because it serves as the cutest inside joke when Peeta makes a callback to it in Catching Fire and Finnick is just like “why are these two teenagers so stupid who did I ally with? 🥵😳🥵😳🥵”

“I wonder if the people she's been plugging us to all day either know or care.” After reading Songbirds and Snakes, I’m sure they don’t have a clue, boo. 😑😑😑😑 although not everyone was an idiot back then ... maybe Snow is putting lead in the drinking water?

“But don't worry, I'll get him to the table at gunpoint if necessary.” I know she’s trying to help and I know we say this kind of thing today, but considering this is two kids she’s well aware will be heading into a death match this is just bad wording I know surprise surprise 🙄🙄🙄😬😬😬😬

“Although lacking in many departments, Effie Trinket has a certain determination I have to admire.” Katniss really does see the best in people. What’s sad, y’all, is I think Katniss unconsciously really tries to like people and that’s why she has her guard up so high. Because the softer you are, the easier people will step all over you. Terrible phrasing here, Samantha, I’m so sorry to any of my readers ... okay now that sounded arrogant, implying I have readers 🤭🤭🤭🤭🤣😅🤣😅🤣😅

“My quarters are larger than our entire house back home.” Omg? I mean, yes, I knew this already obviously no duh but like also. Just the fact that three people live in a space smaller than a bedroom and bathroom arena is saddy sad sad. Also do they have indoor plumbing in the Seam or is their backyards just full of—okay, I’ll see myself out. 😶🤭😅🙃

“The shower alone has a panel with more than a hundred options you can choose regulating water temperature, pressure, soaps, shampoos, scents, oils, and massaging sponges.” I’m just imagining a Spongebob scene ngl.

I’m sorry there’s so many gifs this time around it’s probably taking us out of the reading headspace I’ll never do it again 😩😩😩😩 I talk like I have a class of people listening to me 🤭🤭🤭

“Instead of struggling with the knots in my wet hair, I merely place my hand on a box that sends a current through my scalp, untangling, parting, and drying my hair almost instantly” I need this someone invent this NOW my brush is yanking out my hair 😔😩

“I program the closet for an outfit to my taste.” ‘Yes, Alexa, I’d like a hunting jacket, some boots and a green shirt. Yes, it can be brown.’

“You need only whisper a type of food from a gigantic menu into a mouthpiece and it appears, hot and steamy, before you in less than a minute.” I like this idea because it means that Peeta could order hot choccy to comfort Katniss after her nightmares in Catching Fire from the comfort of her their own bed. 🤗🤗🤗 also I want this for myself. The bad people are giving my greedy self ideas look away everyone 😬

“I walk around the room eating goose liver and puffy bread until there's a knock on the door.” 🤢🤢🤢🤢 Of everything you could have chosen, child, this is what you decided on? Someone help my girl and her rotten tastebuds now.

“Effie's calling me to dinner. Good. I'm starving.” Baby, you were just eating. She’s so nutritionally messed up. 😔😔😔

Katniss trying wine 🥳🥳🥳 she’s so funny, trying to find a way to improve the taste 😅. She’ll make a good taste tester for her baker husband one day.

Hahahaha Katniss not liking the feeling and judging Haymitch for always being tipsy. Also this is sad because she ends up addicted to morphling later one which is far worse than a little wine.

I’m glad to know Baked Alaska survived the apocalypse 😅🥳

Katniss just constantly trying to decipher the recipe of every meal and how to recreate it reads cute on a surface level but it’s actually so tragic because everything to this girl is based around food. Like even more than is typically noticed. They really should have given a hint at this in the first movie. Good thing she marries a man who can always keep her full.

I’m just forever side-eyeing you, Gare Bear.

That’s Gary Ross for the confused kids in the back.

Why does Katniss yelling mid-sentence, “oh! I know you!” add to her innocence? 🥺 it’s because she was overwhelmed by all the food and new luxuries she’d never even been able to imagine ... and also this is pre her first games so she’s still got some childhood left in her 😩😔

I wonder how Lavinia felt seeing Katniss volunteer and knowing she’d be her Avox? I wonder if she, like Cinna, somehow volunteered to be her Avox?

I mean ... talk about convenient placement that this specific girl was assigned to Katniss’ district—oh wait, y’all, I just caught myself. She’s from Twelve. She was assigned to Twelve’s tributes because she’s from there, duh. I’m such an airhead omg just call me Effie.

Don’t you actually dare.

“When I look back, the four adults are watching me like hawks.” Meanwhile, Peeta is just like 😬😬😬 eating his dinner.

Actually, ngl, this could be such a reach and it probably is but like maybe Peeta sensed a confrontation coming and, because of his implied upbringing, he naturally becomes silent or makes himself invisible when trouble starts looking like it’s gonna arise. 🥺🥺🥺 I don’t know why I say these things I’m just hurting my own feelings but ya know the drill. I thought it so I said it.

Why is Effie yelling at Katniss for saying she knows the Avox girl like omg overreaction much? And I know, the sky is blue 🙄🙄🙄 she’s prejudiced against basically everyone, I know, I know

Rip her wig off, Katty Deen 🤗🤗🤗

Oh I stupidly forgot that Avoxes are supposedly known by everyone to be traitors or criminals. So I suppose this isn’t Effie’s worst offense but I’m keeping a tally anyways

Katniss is blaming her stuttering on the wine but my girl just has social anxiety 😔😔😔

Peeta coming in with a save 😭😭😭 he’s already trying saving his girl 🤧

Alsoooo the unspoken friendship, the covering for the other and teaming up against the adults, is still riding high and going strong here 🥰🥰🥰🥰🥰 look away, y’all, the shipper comments are coming in strong

Also why is this the first real interaction with Peeta in this chapter yet? My baby needs more page-time 🤭🤭🤭

“Delly Cartwright is a pasty-faced, lumpy girl with yellowish hair who looks about as much like our server as a beetle does a butterfly.” Now why did Katniss just tear Delly to shreds for no reason at all 😭😭😭 this was a surprise assault on the poor girl 🙃🙃🙃🙃

“She may also be the friendliest person on the planet - she smiles constantly at everybody in school, even me.” Okay not to tie absolutely everything back to Peeta ... but to tie absolutely everything back to Peeta ... this description of poor, sweet Delly is actually indicative of Peeta’s character? Since Delly, we find out in Mockingjay, is Peeta’s childhood best friend, her personality being this sunny, kind, good-natured person tells us Peeta has always probably been somewhat like her and perhaps not as much like the other town kids Katniss implies to be stuck up or snooty. Maybe Katniss is just shady and deflects onto others 🤷🏼‍♀️🤷🏼‍♀️🤷🏼‍♀️.

Also the fact that she gives this like ... mean description of Delly but saw Peeta as popular, even though surely Delly and Peeta spent time at school together, implies further that Katniss did indeed harbor a secret crush on Peeta even before the reaping. A very mild comparison of his on her though, of course 😅😅😅

“It must be the hair” “something about the eyes too” their piggybacking on the other’s comments really is just chiefs kiss 😘🤗🥰🤧 FYI I know the saying is chefs kiss but I made the typo once a long time ago and decided to add it forever to my brand 🤗🙃🥳

Also though this Everlark interaction is reminiscent of when two kids get caught by their teacher goofing off in class and covering for each other 🥰 only it’s a lot more deadly stakes

“A few of the other couples make a nice impression, but none of them can hold a candle to us.” She’s so modest 🤧🤧🤧 her narration here and during the Tribute Parade just has the vibes of ... well .... sorry in advance

Haymitch’s comment “Just the perfect touch of rebellion. Very nice” leads me to think he and Cinna and maybe Portia were always in cahoots about the rebellion even before Katniss and Peeta came along and well ... lit their match on fire 🥁🤗🤣🤭

Katniss is like “rebellion??? Rebellion where??? What’s that you old people speak of???” And yet, girlfriend goes out to the woods and hunts illegally every day of her life 🤣🤣🤣🤣.

“But when I remember the other couples, standing stiffly apart, never touching or acknowledging each other, as if their fellow tribute did not exist” too lazy too look it up but there’s a quote from Ballad about Lucy Gray and Jessup being distinguished by their visible friendship too that set them apart from the other tributes.

Either Suzanne thought of drawing a nice parallel showing what a failed Everlark attempt looks like, because I firmly stand by the fact that without their real feelings behind their act, even Katniss’ unconscious ones, they wouldn’t have pulled it off, or Suzzie just reused her own content. I prefer the former but I think it’s probably the latter 🤭🤭🤭

“Now go get some sleep while the grown-ups talk." I know Haymitch is being facetious here but this quote reminded me of the fact that the movies would have hit differently if they’d cast actual sixteen year olds in the roles.

“When we get to my door, he leans against the frame, not blocking my entrance exactly but insisting I pay attention to him.” This is such a flirty, high school boy pose, you cannot convince me otherwise 😭😭😭

Also I definitely feel like Peeta is getting more and more confident here because he’s oblivious to Katniss’ inner monologue as much as she is his actually we all are his sadly and he probably thinks she’s starting to like him 🤧🤧🤧

“So, Delly Cartwright. Imagine finding her lookalike here." 🤣 He honestly cracks me up idk why this line isn’t even special or that great. He’s just so ... subtly nosy / funny. Which brings me to that quote from Mockingjay where Katniss talks about his sense of humor because it’s one of the things she loves most about him 😭😭😭

But he’s like, “I can keep a secret, Katniss, tell me who that tongueless chick is to you 😬”

Katniss stop talking about debts, friends cover for the other all the time 🙄🙄 I know it’s in her character stop yelling at a fish for swimming that’s not a real phrase I know that too

Okay first of all, they’re about to share a secret 🥰🥰🥰🥰. My shipper goggles are on tight and obstructing my vision. I know this and am proud 😬🥳🤗

And secondly, “Maybe sharing a confidence will actually make him believe I see him as a friend.” Hey, butthead, you two are already friends. She doesn’t even recognize that the girl who constantly sits with her, talks to her, eats with her and trades with her is her friend either though, I’m shocked she calls Gale her friend

Does Peeta get to know Cinna too? I don’t think so but it’s mentioned now a couple times in this chapter alone that Peeta has interacted with Cinna. Katniss never interacts or has a conversation with Portia.... then again, is that even surprising? Katniss isn’t ... what you would call ... social. Hashtag relatable.

Awww, they’re communicating so effectively together 🥰😭🤧🥳

Also rooftops belong to Everlark only 😍😊😉 I mean, seriously, Katniss never goes up on a rooftop with anyone else. Besides Haymitch in the first movie but we ignore.

“Electricity in District 12 comes and goes, usually we only have it a few hours a day.” Earlier she said the Seam didn’t often have electricity, in particular, so either she’s not specifying her section of the district anymore or Suzanne is backtracking.

“But here there would be no shortage. Ever.” I’ve had two power outages recently so clearly the Capitol isn’t based on us currently today then 😐😐 I’m just joking ok

“I asked Cinna why they let us up here. Weren't they worried that some of the tributes might decide to jump right over the side?” .... boyfriend, where does your mind go sometimes? Peeta’s darker than we realize, y’all 🤭🤭🙃🙃

“He holds out his hand into seemingly empty space. There's a sharp zap and he jerks it back” between this and Catching Fire, Peeta is addicted to getting shocked by forcefields 🤧🤧🤧

“I wonder if we're supposed to be up here now, so late and alone.” If this was a romantic drama or comedy, that line would have meant something a lot more fun 😒😔😬😉😏

“On the other side of the dome, they've built a garden with flower beds and potted trees.” Is this meant to resemble Snow’s grandmother’s garden???? Like he had them put a garden there to like ... put a piece of his Grandma’am in the games? Idk this made zero sense it was a stupid thought

Two people in a garden at night, with wind chimes, sounds romantic in any other context. 🥺🥺

Ummm does everyone in the entire district know Katniss and her father used to hunt together?

Oh nevermind, Lavinia is not from District Twelve. My bad, guys. I should go up and edit my previous thoughts but that’s a lot of work. 😅😅😅

Katniss, stop being so hard on yourself. You and Gale were kids. 😣😣

Ummm, Katniss for a girl always complimenting Peeta’s storyteller, you’re pretty good at painting a picture yourself...

Peeta noticing she’s shivering 🥰🥺

He gives her ... his jacket 😭😭😭😭 such a romantic troupe Samantha, get over it there’s literally children dying

Oh wow, Lavinia was from the Capitol originally. Hmm, it is sus now that she got District Twelve this particular year.

But also 🤧🤧🤧 “he secures a button at my neck.”

His hands .... are .... often .... at her .... neck .... 😶😬 .... look away, y’all

Oh wow, Katniss is over here thinking, “who’d leave the Capitol if they were from here???” And Peeta’s like instantly, loudly, without hesitating, “well I would 🙋🏼‍♂️”

Hot take, y’all ready? Peeta was a bigger rebel than Katniss from the start. At least internally.

Awww, Peeta is so jealous 😭😭😭😭 and kind of nosy 🤭🤭🤭

Katniss : “me and Gale are not related” Peeta : “😬🙃😭😩😶”

“I'd set out to tell her I was sorry about dinner. [...] my apology runs much deeper. [...] I let the Capitol kill the boy and mutilate her without lifting a finger. Just like I was watching the Games.” I feel like this is actually a good comparison though, because of you grew up in a society where you have to watch kids die, your whole entire life you’ve watched it in a glorified television show, you would be really desensitized to it...

“You don't forget the face of the person who was your last hope.” Here she’s talking about Lavinia but it applies to Peeta too. Katniss was Lavinia’s last hope and she feels like she let her down but Peeta was her last hope once and he came through. And, as she said in chapter one, she’ll never forget him for it. And for other things too. Later on. 😏

Of course my last bullet point was focused on Everlark 🤣 is anyone surprised you shouldn’t be we all knew who this post was written by right? 😅

And once again, if too made through this marathon, congratulations 🥳🥳🥳🥳 maybe next chapter I’ll talk less not likely though so don’t count on it 😅

[wroteclassicaly]

Dibs

A/N: Heeeeeeeey, loves! I’m back and pretty proud of this one! It’s a two part story, this obviously being the first part. Smut will be in the next one. I’ve wanted to write this idea since I came up with it the night of the season premiere. 

Reader is plus size in this one. She is also Chef Bertie’s daughter. There’s some major self-esteem issues and some self-bashing in this one, so be warned. I hope ya’ll enjoy! Lemme know what you think? :) 

P.S. I’ve changed a few things around to fit the reader in. Dialogue, mostly. It’s not that much of a change though, so don’t worry. 

Also, I can’t seem to get my taglist to work right, so I don’t tag anyone. I’m sorry. :(

Pairing: Xavier Plympton x Female reader

Word count: 2,691

Warnings: Explicit language, references to smut and virginity, self-esteem issues, poor body image issues

Looking forward to something during the summer months wasn't usually your forte, but this season seemed to be taking drastic approaching turns already. You'd been coerced into coming help your mom work the kitchen of Camp Redwood. Massacres and legends galore, bugs and snakes touring your housing. Sounded so fun to you. Your mom didn't want to leave you at your home alone, so you hesitantly agreed to get away from the dangers in Los Angeles and help out at the camp with her.

The drive up you imagined all sorts of various and vile scenarios. Woods and stories caught your imagination and refused to leave without a searing tongue lashed haunting. Your mom had assured you things would be okay this time around, that she wouldn't let anything happen to you, but it still felt so unsettling to be surrounded by nothing but dirt and trees and a large body of midnight fresh water. For your mom, however, you opted for the positive side of things, and sucked it up. You met with the eccentric and eerie Margaret, hovering closely to any exits you could think about, then escaped to the cabin you would be sharing with your mother to put your things away.

Margaret had informed you and your mom that a group of counselor volunteers would be arriving in the afternoon, leaving your stomach to tumble into the anxiety founded pits it always was. You hated much social interaction, even living in one of the world's largest cities. You avoided leisure activities and parties that were too high octane. You cared only about the peace and quiet, a few close friends, your books, and your music. You were grateful you had been permitted to bring along some albums and your record player, because without it, you could not function.

Setting out your music, you had tasked yourself out to sweep and mop the dining hall and kitchen. Covered in sweat and grime, hair pulled back into a messy mopped bun, the entire area became brand new once more. So much so that you had to stand and admire, the enriching draped melodies from Stevie Wonder casting a serene, echoing production to highlight your hard work. You hadn't noticed until Margaret jabbed a nail into your tank top clad shoulder, causing you to nearly deck her in the face with your broom handle. She raised a manicured brow, annoyance perched on her poker faced features, asking you to come meet the newest additions to the staff, as they would be arriving soon and you still had to bring food into the kitchen pantry.

Reluctantly, you followed your camp leader out into your new life for the next few months.

~*~

Present day: The First Night

Your insides feel as if they have all been twisted together like licorice, coolness spreading through your veins, erecting goosebumps all across your flesh. You self-consciously grip your noticeable stomach, already prepared for an array of flashy and skimpy clothed girls to accompany muscular, tight fitted guys. You don't fit in. Not being more than overweight, but what doctors seemed to call obese, with a swell to your face and the rest of you in places all around your thick form. In this day and age, not many girls your size are praised or celebrated in music and on television.

Sure, there were a few, but the movies you have seen are the overweight girl being an extra, a classmate, the bestfriend, the loner, the reject, or the propping joke. Fat is funny in LA, you aren't stupid. And no matter how far you run from it, you'd have to face scrutiny, even here. Your thinking is pregnant with triplets on this one, as you don't even bat a blink walking out with the Carrie White's mother - Margaret White -esque Camp owner, to meet everyone. Worn sneakers and boots from different brand names dusted in California soil is what you see before meeting the eyes of a very petite brunette.

That's the first counselor that smacks your self-esteem straight into the pits of hell. And the blonde girl near her in the colorful and tight outfit? Yeah, you want to find a hole and dig it twelve feet under. Six feet for your humiliation, adding on an additional six for your fat ass body. You want to run, but, yeah, right.

If you don't speak then you will look stupid, more so than you do now, covered in perspiration and dirt smudges. Margaret makes an introduction that collides right into you stepping behind your mom, getting an eyeful of the two handsome guys with the girls, reaching for a crate of eggs, attempting to look busy as to bay the awkward pause. Everyone says a few brisk words of greeting, those male counselors snickering. Why did you come here? The risks back home are far more tempting right about now.

Your nose catches the scent first, the sound of the person's shoes hitting ground second. Clad in this overly musky scent that seems to glide itself across the air, a rapturous, creamy silk-like voice hits the atmosphere and flips you head over ass.

"Dibs."

Your mom is snapping back with her wit, shoving her crate into his hands and moving away from his speechless face to leave you visible. Standing still, your box seemingly heavy, body light, you can't but help yourself to a heaping serving of observation. His pants are tan, or white, belt tightly securing those defined hips, his sneakers stretched over long feet (don't they say long feet mean... okay then, holy fuck), and sea-foam green muscle tank that leaves nothing to the imagination, except how much leverage you'd have to straddle his chest...

"And this is Y/N. She's joining us with her mother, whom is Chef Bertie. She won't be bunking with the ladies, however. But I still expect of all you to get along and make her feel apart of things, as she will also be partaking in counselor duties for the summer." Margaret's voice interjects, right smack into your looking into this guy's angelically crafted face.

You can't see what color his eyes are over his designer frames, just blue hued glimpses reflected off California sunshine. His plump lips are wet with amusement and surprise at your reveal, jaw sharp and alert, so arching and shaped it can cut through glass. There's a small cross dangling from his left ear, his hair is frosted at the top. He looks like some guitarist that has actual angel wings. His arms are steady, hands big.

You can swear there's a saxophone player somewhere playing a soundtrack for this very moment. You kind of, no, record SCRATCH that, you definitely need to find a seat somewhere and pour a glass of ice water over your head. For a fleeting moment you think you might need to attempt Olympic running towards the infirmary, cause this is some sort of General Hospital soap opera scene. You can't stop yourself from how you do react though. Biting your upper lip, eyes dashing mad all across his body, you're engulfed in more than the summer California heat.

You see the metal of his silver cross earring catch the light, and you know that even God himself can't help you now. Looking at this man in the blue shirt, you feel as if you've committed a lifetime of the most blood deep sins. You feel the need to ask Margaret to save you in the lake, some prayer needing to happen before you feel anymore guilt for objectifying this stranger. What feels like never-ending hours is merely a minute at most, making you look even more awkward and ignorant. Margaret does save you this time, introducing each counselor, the sensual blue eyed boy called Xavier Plympton, to your amusement, then with a seemingly arrogant grin on her peach painted lips, demands you take Xavier and the other two attractive male counselors - Ray and Chet, to finish carrying the crates of fruit and eggs to the kitchen pantry.

A dying 'hi' towards the friendly faces of the group is all you muster, rolling a shoulder back to the truck for the boys to take the hint. Xavier already has his share from what your mom gave him, so it's quick work for the other two. You don't talk, don't look at any of them on the way into the large dining area and back into the kitchen where your mom is hard at work. All the guys pile beside you, so you figure that now is the time to find your damn voice box and activate its fucking switch.

"You can just leave the stuff here, guys. Some of the other staff is in charge of stocking it anyways. They're real particular on everything, you know? We appreciate your help!" You ramble on, eyes widening when you spot Xavier - shades now clipped to his collar - smirking at you, pearly whites gleaming tauntingly.

Everyone, yourself included, all discard your food onto the chipped wooden counter. You fold your hands into fists on its hard surface, knuckles pressing together, lips pinched tight, feeling this tickle attack you from the tips of your toes and back, leaving you absolutely parched and winded both.

"So you're the Chef's daughter, huh?" Ray is the first to speak to you.

You turn to his direction to see him leaning a few feet beside you, propped against the end of the countertop by his elbow. His smile is genuine, calm, excited even.

He must really have wanted to be here this summer.

"Yeah." Is your proud response. Your mom is a hard worker with a zero tolerance policy for bullshit or dumbasses, so you're very proud to call yourself her child.

"Kind of a given you'd be here with her, right? That's cool. Most kids wouldn't volunteer their time to help their Mama at some sweaty ass camp in the middle of nowhere. You even gettin' anything in return from this?" Ray questions again.

Your body warms a little, not used to this duration of a conversation, let alone by someone this cute, this cool, who seems nice enough. You find yourself softening towards his presence, friendly and open in your answers.

"She'll share whatever she makes with me, so it's a win win. I have to clean the camp, so I'll also pull in my own money, then we put it all together. Living in LA is fucking expensive."

"Wait-" Chet cuts in. "You still live with your mom? Aren't you in your twenties or some shit? Don't you have any plans back home?"

Yup, there it is.

You were expecting some sort of snide commentary from at least someone in this group. You're unsure how to answer. It's not that your lifestyle is something you're ashamed of, it's just that you're beyond sick and tired at the ridicule it brings. Your mood is deflated, head bowing a little at Chet's laughter. Maybe it's not malicious, but to you, it isn't funny either.

"At least she didn't blow a chunk of cash on condoms and cheap ass cologne to impress Brooke. No one likes a cocky counselor, Chet." Sounds to your left.

Ray snorts into his hand, easing back at Xavier's biting remark. Your jaw becomes unhinged with a loud giggle that makes Xavier lick his tongue across the top edge of his teeth. He's super focused on you, sharing this knowing that eases and unsettles you all at once. Ray and Chet begin a bicker at Chet's expense, Xavier continuing to watch you in a similar fashion as you were observing him earlier. The floor feels like lava under your feet, your legs jello.

"Better get back outside, kids. Boss lady will be getting impatient." Your mom's helper speaks to you from the kitchen.

You give him a nod, trance broken. Moving one foot in front of the other is hard, but you get it right, breezing past Xavier and the rest, right back into the summer heat wave.

~*~

After the conversation your mom directed over her history with this Camp and her current decision to return, Margaret invited you to tour the grounds again with everyone else after formal introductions were completed. You weren't going to disagree, not with the possibility of sneaking looks in Xavier's way, hearing the things that came from his perfect mouth. You're fucking sickening, like some dingbat ditz on a sugar high that's having an affair with lust. The whole tour was boring and subpar, but worth it to see Xavier in action. Margaret stops everyone outside the cabin with, in your opinion, the finest views, to preach her rules onto everyone.

You're cringing, already choking on heaps of unshed laughter and snorts. Everyone but Brooke seems to be amused. Brooke seems the most like you, so it's a comfort. Xavier has his debate locked and gone, metaphoric smoke trailing behind of his tongue, following his words like a steaming mug of honey-hot tea. After his fist bump with Ray he makes sure to give a nodding little grin your way.

A bashful smile colors your mouth.

"Y/N is true to her pure body, to herself, to the Lord. She hasn't polluted it with the perversions of today, have you, sweetheart?" Margaret's voice is that bucket of ice water you could've used earlier.

You have to grab onto the other side of the doorway to keep it together, your heartbeat in your throat. How in the fuck does she know what you do, or for that damned matter, if you've done anyone before? The entirety of everyone's attention is on you now. Your eyes are sharp on Margaret's, her joy apparent. You see right through her bullshit.

She can read people, and she's just used that to her very public advantage.

Whatever. Fuck her.

"I don't know how you’d know about my personal life, or why it matters towards the situation of a damned summer camp, Miss Booth." You snap, cheeks hot with anger, neck flushed with adrenaline. 

Her head twitches as if she's some robotic experiment in a lab, but she catches herself, a plastered on smile melting back into place. "Damned is the farthest thing from the grounds on which this Camp sits, Y/N. And as for your earlier inquiry? I have known your mother for half of my adult life, so that means I also know you."

You're in place, still stunned. How does knowing your mom have anything to do with Margaret knowing you're a virgin? It's not something your mom would broadcast to anyone. Luckily, it's a dropped topic. You're given looks you expect, especially by Chet and Montana. Ray and Brooke, who stops to turn around and give a compassionate smile, are the more sympathetic and understanding.

That leaves... him. You're petrified to turn and see his cliché reaction. He doesn't say anything, not at first, only moving past you. But when stops, a partial pivot, there's an almost relieved expression on his face. The breeze picks up a little, making you brush a lock of escaped hair from your messy style.

The grass and dirt crunches under his weight as he approaches you, stopping a decent distance. You can't breathe, can't comprehend anything out of this shared airspace. The wind has the little cross swaying against his lobe, his lips are plump, the blue in his eyes darkening to the shadows of the summer shade. There's rain on the air. It's going to rain tonight.

"You know I teach at an exercise studio in Los Angeles, Y/N? I'm good at helping people learn."

So he's baiting me to come to his gym with my fat body? Prolong the shame?

You want to further scold yourself for thinking he'd be anything but a shallow Hollywood hottie. Typical.

Before the tears even make themselves form, Xavier is moving closer. You don't stop him, don't take the out his slow and respectful pace is giving you. He's tilting in a little more so that wisp of frosted hair brushes your nose, his breath warm and minty.

"A virgin, huh? I guess it works out that I'm a teacher."

[creativeskullcreations]

Outside chapter 2: Skyrim and Laundry

Chapter 2 is here, folks! Here we delve a little bit more into Scout's head and see her reactions to stuff.

When Scout woke up, she couldn't recognize where she was for a minute. It was only when she heard muffled singing that she remembered what had happened. They had actually managed to escape. Alive.

'I can't believe we actually got out. I didn't think it was even possible.' She sat up and looked around the room, able to see better now thanks to the light streaming in through the windows. The wallpaper was a faded blue and yellow, the carpet was a stained brown, and there were metal cans all over the floor.

Somehow, though, it was still better than the HQ. Maybe it was the lack of bloodstains and slumped over bodies. Or maybe it was the sunlight streaming in through the window over the sink, making the whole room look brighter. She Jumped to the coffee table, and then to one of the kitchen chairs. From there she was able to climb onto the table, and get a better view of where to go next. Not that there were a lot of options, of course.

'Hmm, the counter seems like a good idea. And there might be something cool there...' She spotted a good area by the fridge and Jumped to it right as her Host wandered in, hair looking damp. Scout watched as she opened the fridge without acknowledging the Puppet, humming some song she'd never heard before. When she closed the door, the Puppet decided to finally announce her presence.

"Hey-"

The Human shrieked, dropping the bottle she'd been holding. Orange liquid went everywhere, soaking the rugs laid out over the linoleum.  She clutched at her chest and gave a pained wheeze.

"Ho-ly shit." Scout deadpanned. "You have a great set of lungs." Yeah she was laying the sarcasm on a little thick, but she felt justified in doing so. Who just screams like that, anyways?

"I forgot you were here." The Host gasped out, leaning down to pick up the bottle. She gave it a disappointed look before throwing it in the trash and grabbing the paper towels. "How'd you even get up there, anyways?"

"I Jumped." If she sounds smug, her Host doesn't comment on it. Instead she wiped up the juice and got a bottle of water out of the fridge instead. She then grabbed something foil-wrapped from a cupboard and leaned against the counter to eat it.

"So," She started after swallowing a bite, "Sammy's already left for work, so it's just us here. Which means we can do pretty much anything we want, so long as I, uh, stick his rugs in the washer first." She grimaced, then took another bite as she waited for a response. When none came she decided to suggest a few things. "He has video-games, Netflix, and some books but I think they're all medical textbooks."

"Video-games?" Scout could vaguely remember seeing something about those on the TV. Commercials mostly, but sometimes they showed up in the shows she watched. She wasn't entirely sure what they were, but figured it was something fun. Or torturous. They did have "game" in the name, after all, and the only games she knew involved Puppets dying at the end.

"Video-games it is! We just gotta take these things down to the laundry room first Lemme find a basket..." She left the room briefly, returning with a faded plastic basket. As she picked each rug up, trying to be quick so they wouldn't drip onto the floor, Scout took a chance and Jumped onto her back. The Host jumped, but other than that didn't react much beyond turning her head to give Scout a look.

"You don't have to come along. I shouldn't take too long." She told the Puppet. Scout just shrugged in response, wrapping her small arms around the Human's neck.

"I know, but I-" 'don't want to be on my own please don't leave me alone' "-want to see how it's done."

The Human blinked. "It's...not really all that interesting. Kinda boring actually." But she didn't do anything to actually stop Scout as she approached the door. She grabbed the handle, but paused before she opened the door. Her breathing began to speed up as she stared at it, tightening her grip. She let go and slowly backed away, only to suddenly drop the basket as she made a beeline to the bedroom.

Once there, she dropped to the floor and reached under the bed, pulling out a metal baseball bat. Now armed, she went back to the door and yanked it open, barely remembering the basket as she fast-walked to the elevator. Upon the doors closing, she breathed a small sigh of relief and wiped some water off of her face.

When the elevator reached the basement, she went over to the nearest washer and dumped the clothes in. She then quickly measured out soap and poured it in. She set the timer on the machine and her phone, but paused before she closed the washer and looked over at Scout.

"What?" Her eyes darted between the Puppet and the washer. "Oh don't you even fucking dare."

"You are kinda filthy, though. The bloodstains are gross, and they were there even before you got sewn to my hand."

"You don't fucking need to put me in there, though." Scout glared. "I can just wash in the sink."

"Alright." She closed the lid, then started the washer and timer. "I'll get you some soap or something later. Maybe do that when we get home..." She was mumbling now, words becoming indistinct as she walked back to the elevator, still gripping the bat.

After they made it back up, Host went over to the TV and turned it on, changing the channel. She then turned on a black box underneath it and grabbed a controller, sitting cross-legged on the couch. Scout dropped herself into her lap to get a better view, gaining a brief, odd look from the Human.

"Alright, let's see what kind of games he has on here..." She scrolled through the menu. "Oooh! Skyrim! I think you'll like this one, Scout!" She selected the game, and they watched the opening cut-scene play.

Scout watched her play for a while, through a dragon attack and delving into an ancient ruin and fighting rotted zombies. It was one of the most amazing things Scout had seen since she first found that old TV, and somehow it was her Host doing it all. She wondered, vaguely, if maybe she'd be able to play too at some point. Which is why she was so mad when the phone beeped and Host paused the game, grabbing Scout and leaving the couch.

"Hey, wait! What about the game?!" She wanted to reach for it, but knew it would be futile as Host carried her farther away from the couch.

"It'll be here when we get back, don't worry." The Host assured her as she picked up the bat. "But first we have to swap the rugs to the dryer. It's rude not to, and someone could move them onto the floor if we wait." The Puppet crossed her arms and grumbled, but didn't protest further. So she left the apartment and went straight for the elevator, getting in as soon as the doors opened.

She was able to move the rugs to a free dryer without incident, even explaining a little bit of the process to Scout. The entire time the Puppet hung from around her neck and watched over her shoulder with interest. This changed when the elevator doors opened again, and a woman and young girl walked out, each carrying a basket full of clothes.

Scout went limp, a sudden fear running through her as the two other Hosts walked past. Her Host tensed up, but otherwise didn't react. She simply walked towards the elevator with her bat gripped tight in her hand, other hand coming up to grab Scout's arm. Just when they thought they were gonna get off scot-free, a voice piped up from behind them, startling Scout into attempting a Jump. "Excuse me, lady? I like your dolly!" The voice was high-pitched and adorable, but that didn't help Scout's cold terror. If anything, it just made it worst. Daisy had sounded like that too, after all.

The Host turned, tightening her grip on Scout's arm. "Thank you!" Her voice was way too perky for the situation, in Scout's opinion. Too fake sounding. "I like her too."

"Where'd you get her?" The girl asked, bouncing on her heels. Her mother was loading clothes into one of the washers behind her, but Scout could see her watching them.

"She was a gift, actually. I don't know where he got her from, though. He didn't tell me" She told the girl with a smile.

'Liar.' Scout thought but didn't say. She was too busy trying to look like a normal puppet, though it was a pain to try and keep her eyes still. Instead she focused on the wall and kept her gaze there, watching the girl and mother from the corner of her eye.

"Okay! Thanks anyways lady!" The girl waved before heading back to her mother. The Host waved back with another smile before going into the elevator as fast as she could. Neither her or Scout relaxed until the doors had closed and it started moving. Scout relaxed so much she almost fell off.

"That was fucking terrifying." She exclaimed while the Host scrambled to catch her. She held her in her arms like one would a doll, letting Scout flop over  almost limp from relief.

"It wasn't that bad." She shrugged. "It was just a little kid."

"Yeah but she could've told the government!" Scout looked up at the Human. "I don't want to be fucking experimented on! I had enough of that crap from Riley!"

"Don't worry so much! You'll be fine!" She dismissed as they reached Sammy's floor. "Besides, kids are the best ones to know about you. Nobody ever believes them when they say something's going on. No matter how much they insist on it" There was a bitter tone to her voice. Before Scot could question it, though,  they made it to the apartment and it vanished as she spoke again. "Now come on! We gotta go kill some Thalmor!"

The next half hour was passed by the Host playing Skyrim, this time with commentary from Scout. Everything that happened, she had something to say about it, even if it was just insulting the characters.

"Yeah, you eat that lightning you fucking lizard! What are you gonna do about tha- oh shit! He bit your face off!" Scout gave a surprised laugh as the Dragonborn died, flung away by the Frost Dragon they'd been fighting. "Okay! That's enough of that!." The Host shut off the game, throwing the controller back on the shelf it had come from. "It's almost time to get the rugs out of the dryer, anyways. You wanna come again?"

"No way. There might be more Hosts down there." Scout told her. "Not that I'm, like, scared of them, or anything. But it'll be easier if I'm not there. Y'know?" "Uh, yeah. That's fine if you want to stay." One look at her Host told her it probably wasn't fine. But before Scout could go back on what she'd said the Human had already picked up the bat and basket. "I'll be back in a few minutes, and we'll watch some more Netflix."

Scout watched her leave, feeling a pang of... something in her chest. It was making her feel bad, so she elected to ignore it for now. Instead she took the chance to Jump around the apartment, exploring what she hadn't been able to yet.

It was definitely something, to see the Host World up close and in person. Many things were different than what the TV had shown her. They were much less clean, for one, though that might just be Sammy. Although her Host hadn't made much of an effort to clean up after herself besides washing the rugs either. So maybe Hosts were just messy.

Speaking of, Scout realized she didn't know her Host's name. She knew she must have one, as Sammy had one, and the Hosts on TV had names. So she tried to think back to what Sammy might have called her.

'What was it he said? Stack? Lace? Stace? I think it was Stace... Short for Stacy, maybe?' She shook her head. 'It doesn't matter. One of them has to say her name at some point, right? I'm sure I'll learn it by the end of the night.' She smacked herself on the head, then did it again to turn off her light. 'Stop rhyming, dumbass! You're not one of them, and you never will be again!' She smacked herself again, harder this time, and shook her head. 'STOP!'

When her Host - Stacy? - came back, Scout watched her sweep the floor and lay the rugs down from the counter. When she had finished, it looked much better than it had before, even if it was most likely sticky under there now. She then grabbed Scout and carried her back over to the couch.

"So, what do you wanna watch?" She asked as she turned on Netflix and started scrolling through the shows. Some she would linger on, but others she skipped over quickly.

"How about what we were watching last night? I liked that one."

"You mean The Good Place?" She went up to the search bar and started typing it in. "That's what we watched last night."

"Yeah, that one was cool. Eleanor's my favorite. She takes no shit." And she swore more than Scout did, which was always a plus in her book. "Alright, we'll watch this one until Sammy gets home." Stacy selected it, and scrolled over to the episode she'd fallen asleep on. "Don't know when that'll be, but maybe he'll bring food with him."

Scout made a noncommittal hum, not caring about the food. All she cared about was whether Eleanor would get caught or not.

Whether they would get caught, or not.

[pain-somnia]

ssm19 day 22

SasuSaku Month 2k19 Day 22: Early Mornings Rating: M (hardhardhard M, y’all have been warned) Disclaimer Day’s Notes: hello hello everyone! I made this as a continuation to last year’s fic for “Body Talk” which was a birthday present for @roraewrites 💕

Happy Birthday Ro! I hope you enjoy it a lot. This sequel is much longer than the “Body Talk” fic ‘cause I gotta make everyone work for that smut. Remember that ShiItaIzu and TenKarin show up in this fic.

Just Stay

Usually her morning routine consisted of her waking up before her roommates and making herself tea. She would sit outside on their veranda wrapped up in one of her oversized cardigans and get some reading done before Karin strolled out of her bedroom whining about hunger pains and needing nourishment.

Karin took over the cleaning of the apartment as long as Sakura or Tenten did the cooking. It worked out for the two of them considering Karin was anal about cleanliness but would burn pots attempting to boil water.

Tenten can deal with that today.

Sakura was too comfortable to move. The usual chill she felt in the mornings was gone and her body was much more relaxed than it had been in weeks.

I’m not getting up today. It’s Saturday anyway and I don’t have work until...tomorrow. Good.

Sakura snuggled into her pillow and sighed. She needed to catch up on sleep anyway. She was slipping back to sleep when an arm snaked around her waist and pulled her back against a hard body.

She instantly tensed up and her eyes opened up wide. Distantly she could hear the sound of dogs barking.

This isn’t my bed!

Sakura shifted slightly trying to sneak out from under the arm holding her in place. A deep voice whined and a face pressed into the junction of her neck and shoulder. The hand of the arm around her snuck under her top.

Sakura stared down at the baggy black shirt she was wearing. The front of the shirt had the name of a band she vaguely knew.

This isn’t my shirt!

A subtle shift of her legs had her face heating up. She was lacking a pair of undergarments and with the way the owner of the arm had slid the shirt up she was completely exposed from the waist down.

A little late to be embarrassed about that Sakura!

She mentally chastised herself and settled back against the body that was holding her. Now that she was more awake she recalled how she got herself into her current situation.

The shirt she was wearing belonged to her neighbor. It was the shirt he was wearing earlier that morning when she ran into him at the laundry center.

She remembered being tired afterward and too comfortable lying back with her head pressed to his pillows. She could have gotten up and grabbed something from her basket but didn’t want to move. Sasuke had pulled his shorts back on and grabbed the shirt he had discarded from the side of his bed and pulled it over her head and helped her into it.

I should leave now...right?

Sakura’s lips twisted to one side and she contemplated her next move. She didn’t want to leave but she wasn’t sure if she would be overstaying her welcome if she stuck around and waited for him to wake up.

This is what happens when I do shit I’ve never done before.

Sakura turned her face into the pillow under her head and groaned. It was a little late to think of the consequences especially when she had enjoyed herself so much the night before.

Heat traveled up her face as she recalled the feeling of his hair brushing against her inner thighs and the way he took her little bundle of nerves between his lips. After they had snuck into his room there was a repeat performance in which he made sure she was nice and slick.

Having no experience in hookup culture, Sakura wasn’t sure if she should stay until Sasuke woke up or disappear before he did. Waiting seemed like the best decision, the one that would benefit her the most. But she wondered if she would seem too forward if she kept lying in his bed.

I’m sure he wouldn’t mind another...round.

Sakura buried her face in her hands. She was making herself too at home in her neighbor’s bed. Gingerly, she pried Sasuke’s arm off of her and scooted to the edge of the bed. Luckily the apartment was carpeted and she wasn’t shocked by the potential cold before she could slip her feet into her slippers. Sakura shuffled over to her basket of laundry and slipped on a pair of skivvies and pajama boxer shorts. Feeling a bit chilly in the air conditioned apartment, Sakura snagged the hoodie on Sasuke’s desk chair and slipped into it as well.

Closing the door behind her, Sakura made her way over to the bathroom. The apartment had almost the same set up that hers had except it had an extra bedroom. She splashed water on her face and used the toilet. After she washed her hands she was unable to find a hand towel so she shook them to dry. The bathroom was clean but there was not much in it. The hallway bathroom in her own apartment was just for her because Tenten and Karin had an ensuite in the master bedroom and she had all of her toiletries and a shelf full of her makeup. Her bathroom was an extension of her own room so it felt weird sitting in a bathroom that luckily at least had toilet paper and hand soap to use.

“So you were the one making all that noise,” Sakura whispered to Shiro, who was waiting right outside the bathroom when she exited. “Lemme guess, you’re hungry?”

Shiro yipped and followed at her heels as she led him to the kitchen where she assumed she would find something for him to eat and something to drink for herself. Shiro clung to her, rubbing his head against her arm as she tried to tip kibble into his bowl. A bigger dog came up behind her and whined at the empty red bowl next to Shiro’s and she filled it up as well.

Playing it safe, Sakura ignored the bottles of juice and grabbed the pitcher of filtered water from the fridge. Sasuke obviously had roommates and she didn’t want to mess with anything that could have belonged to a specific person. Pouring herself a glass, she leaned back against the kitchen counter and enjoyed the chill of the water as it slid down her throat.

It was still pretty early in the morning for Karin or Tenten, so Sakura was sure she neither would be looking for her and even if they were they would assume she went out for a jog.

I doubt they would have any energy to be up anyway. Sakura shivered recalling the excitement Karin had about a bag from her favorite sex shop. No doubt the two of them had broken in whatever toy Karin had brought home and spent the whole night enjoying it to the fullest.

Not that Sakura was one to judge considering how she had spent her night. Her cheeks burned as she thought about how Sasuke had gripped the back of her head when she sucked her cheeks in around the head of his cock and teased the slit with the tip of her tongue.

Wonder how he’d feel about that kind of wake up call? Sakura giggled inwardly, her insecurity upon waking up dissipating with the reminder of how he felt below her, bucking his hips as he chased his orgasm. The grip he had on her hips had left a bruise but she kind of liked the tinge of pain from when she poked at it.

Setting her glass down in the sink, Sakura took a deep breath and matched her way across the apartment back to Sasuke’s room. She was only a few feet away when the door to the bedroom next to Sasuke’s opened up.

“Oh, shit!” A gangly boy with messy brown hair exclaimed upon seeing her. “You’re still here.”

Warmth flooded her cheeks again. Of course someone had heard them going at it! Sakura shifted on the balls of her feet, feeling severely under dressed as the boy continued to gawk at her.

“Can you not stare at me like that? It’s creepy.”

“What? Ah, sorry!” The boy looked down at the floor and scratched the back of his head. “I just didn’t expect you to still be here when I woke up.”

The heat left her body at his words. She had been so caught up in her own daydreams that she let herself believe that what she wanted was also what Sasuke did. Clearly from his friend’s reaction to her presence, she had overstayed her welcome.

He probably thought I would see myself out if he kept sleeping.

“I was just on my way out.”

Quickly, Sakura gathered her basket from Sasuke’s room, sparing him a single glance. He was still asleep, lying on his stomach. He hadn’t woken up when she moved or now that his roommate was talking to her outside.

I expected too much, huh?

“I can pass on a message if you—“

“Don’t bother,” Sakura cut off his roommate and left the apartment, rushing up the stairs to her own like she should have earlier that morning.

.

.

.

Groping around with his right hand, Sasuke blindly felt around for the missing warmth of a body next to him. A moment later, something small and furry had made its way into his outstretched arm and licked the side of his face. Lifting his head, he blinked the sleep out of his eyes and realized that Shiro had cuddled up with him.

Did I have an elaborate wet dream?

Sasuke sat up and pulled a knee to his chest. He was sure that he had brought Sakura home the night before. Scanning the room, he looked for anything out of place.

Where’s my hoodie?

His hand-me-down police academy hoodie that Shisui had given him was gone and from under his desk he could see a scrap of fabric with a familiar polka dot print.

So that’s where I threw those...maybe she went to the bathroom or something…?

Rubbing his eye with the heel of his palm, Sasuke shuffled out of his room. He went to knock on the bathroom door but the light was off inside. He twisted the doorknob and opened it a crack. No one was inside.

Shuffling down the hall, Shiro at his heels, Sasuke didn’t find her in the living room either. He did find Kiba lounging on the couch and eating a bowl of cereal. A bowl of Sasuke’s cereal.

“Dude, what the fuck.”

“I ran out. You’re also out. I’ll buy you another box.”

Sasuke ran a hand through his messy hair and crossed his arms in front of his chest. She wasn’t in the apartment. Did Sakura just...leave? She didn’t seem the type to hit it and quit it but perhaps he was wrong.

“By the way,” Kiba mumbled through a bite of cereal before swallowing, “that chick left already. I asked if she wanted me to tell you anything but she just said not to bother.”

Sasuke walked over to the couch and sank into the couch cushions. He pulled his knees up toward his chest and wrapped his arms around them before falling sideways against Kiba.

“She used me.”

“And she stole your clothes.”

The door to the bedroom facing the living room opened up and Shino shuffled out in his slippers and his long hair falling around is shoulders.

“She would have stayed but some idiot doesn’t know how to talk to girls.”

“Are you really trying to kick me when I’m down?” Sasuke glared at him. This was exactly why he didn’t like hanging out with them, Shino especially.

“Not you. The other idiot.”

Sasuke looked up at Kiba and seethed. “What did you do?”

“I didn’t say anything!” Kiba pulled his bowl away from Sasuke so that he couldn’t knock it away. “I just told her that-that...ohhh.”

“Oh, what?”

“My bad.”

Sasuke launched himself on top of Kiba, punching him wherever he could reach. Shino intervened, hooking his arms under Sasuke’s armpits and yanking him off of Kiba.

“And you didn’t stop him?” Sasuke twisted his body in an attempt to get out of Shino’s hold.

“At first I thought I was dreaming the exchange but then I remembered that you had woken me up with how loud you were being.”

“We weren’t loud.”

“Your headboard knocked right against the wall. I thought someone had broken into the apartment.” Shino shivered and shook his head. “She’s not a screamer but when it’s three in the morning and everything is quiet, you can hear her moaning really clearly. Next time play some music or something.”

“It was so early in the morning too, you ass.” Kiba grabbed one of the throw pillows and swung it at his face. Sasuke grabbed the couch cushion from underneath him and threw it at Kiba, immediately sitting on top of it and sandwiching Kiba between it and the couch.

“Sasuke, get off!”

“Fuck you.”

.

.

.

There wasn’t much he knew about her. He probably should have thought about that before tonguing her down the way he did. Or before he let her wear his favorite band shirt. It was a concert exclusive and now he wasn’t going to see it ever again.

He had expected to wake up and find her curled up in his bed, soft thighs poking out from under the oversized shirt. He expected to make her some of his favorite tea or steal some of Shino’s coffee if that was more her thing and then taste that as he snuck some kisses and secured a date before his roommates could scare her off with embarrassing stories.

Even though they lived in the same building, he had a hard time running into her again. He figured he could see her on a Monday or Wednesday morning but she never came. He tried his luck again on Tuesday and Thursday nights and still no sign of Sakura.

Sasuke tried on days he normally didn’t go to the gym in the hopes that she had switched up her workout schedule. He wasn’t a morning person, but he forced himself to wake up earlier than usual and take Shiro out for walks sooner in the day than even the dog liked.

These early mornings are going to kill me, Sasuke groaned inwardly. He was walking back up the hill to his apartment, Shiro in his arms because the lazy ass had plopped his body onto the ground and refused to move.

“No more! I can’t do it!”

Sasuke turned his head in the direction of the whining and heavy panting. At the bottom of the hill was the redhead from the free yoga class and her girlfriend with the twin buns hairstyle.

“Come on, Karin.” The brunette jogged in place and tugged on the redhead’s arms trying to urge her forward. “Just up this hill and we’re done.”

“How do you and Sakura do this everyday?” Karin whined. She wrapped her arms around her girlfriend’s waist and pressed her face into her hip to keep from completely doubling over. She looked ready to complain some more when she caught Sasuke’s eye. “You!”

Karin snapped straight up, complaints about no more energy and muscle pains forgotten, and stormed up the hill in his direction. She was just about to grab at him when her girlfriend wrapped her arms around her torso and lifted the tiny redhead off of the ground.

“Lemme go, Tenten!” Karin flailed in her arms, kicking her legs out in Sasuke’s direction.

“Sorry about her,” the brunette━Tenten━apologized, embracing Karin tighter. “She has a short fuse. You know what they say about short people━━”

“The closer to the ground, the closer to hell?”

“Fuck you, pretty boy!” Karin made herself heavy and slipped out of Tenten’s grip. “I’m going to punch you in the throat.”

Sasuke stuck his arm out and palmed Karin’s head, keeping her a safe distance from his body and Shiro as she flailed her arms around.

“I’m guessing this is about Sakura?” Sasuke directed his question at Tenten who was obviously the more levelheaded of the two.

“Yep!” Tenten wrapped her arms around Karin’s torso and lifted her up off of the ground again. “She should have known better than to hook up with a neighbor.”

“What’s wrong with hooking up with a neighbor?” Sasuke narrowed his eyes at the two of them, waiting for the response. He had his own ideas but wanted to hear it from the friends that Sakura was comfortable enough to live with.

“Well,” Tenten raised her hands as if she were weighing imaginary objects, debating with herself before finishing with, “it’s really…awkward.”

“And fucking dangerous,” Karin spat. “You could have been a serial killer.”

“But mostly awkward in this case.” Tenten patted Karin on the head in a silent plea for her to keep quiet. “Rejection and getting dumped sucks and it’s even worse when there’s a chance of running into the person that doesn’t want you everyday.”

“I see.” Sasuke looked back and forth between the kind faced brunette and the feral redhead. It would be easier to tell them the truth, explain what had actually happened. But he didn’t want Sakura to hear the explanation from her friends. “I’ve been looking for her. I need to━”

“Piss off!” Karin snatched her girlfriend’s hand and stormed pass Sasuke. She turned back around to make a rude hand gesture and stormed ahead, Tenten protesting the whole way back to their apartment.

Shiro yipped at him and panted happily, begging for attention.

“You were absolutely no help at all.”

.

.

.

She hadn’t meant to use it but it was cold and she had snatched the hoodie without thinking about it’s color or the embroidery on it. Sakura didn’t notice until she took it off to stow it away in the coat room of the yoga studio.

She had been tempted to leave it hanging on the doorknob of Sasuke’s apartment door. It would be easy to sneakily leave it there on her way down to her car. But the sweater was worn out in a very comfortable way and she liked how large it was.

She only wore it in the privacy of her apartment. Karin called the clothes she absconded with her “spoils of war” and had mentioned how it was the least that was owed to her.

She had told her that while both she and Tenten were wearing baggy shirts from a couple of her ex boyfriends while cuddling on the couch.

“And exhale,” Izumi, the instructor, called softly from her place in the front of the class.

Sakura had found the studio that had given the free class for her apartment community but had preferred to take her classes with Izumi who hadn’t been an instructor at the demo class. Izumi was a lot more fun to talk to and eventually the two of them started hanging out outside of class.

“I really want an avocado smoothie.” Izumi bounced in place excitedly as she waited for Sakura to gather her things.

The older woman had been extra bubbly lately due to finding out she was pregnant. She was going to have to switch the class she instructed soon and Sakura wanted to take as many classes as possible before the swap.

“Is that a craving or part of that diet?” Sakura teased. Izumi groaned dramatically and pulled out a journal from her canvas bag.

“I don’t know who’s worse,” she complained. “Itachi with his food monitoring or Shisui with his hovering. The baby is lentil sized right now but he’s constantly putting his hands on me whether to stroke my belly or to rub my back.”

“You’re complaining about back massages?”

“Sometimes it gets to be too much. I just wish━”

“Hm?” Sakura questioned as she pulled the hoodie on. Izumi had just stopped mid sentence.

“Where did you,” Izumi swallowed and pointed at the sweater, “get that?”

“Oh, this?” Sakura rolled her eyes as she adjusted the strap of her yoga mat on her shoulder. “It was stupid. I let some guy take me home and I ended up leaving with clothes I borrowed because I was being stupid thinking he wanted me to stay.”

“He took you home?” Izumi continued questioning.

“Yeah…” Sakura shifted on the balls of her feet, uncomfortable with the way Izumi was looking at her. “I thought about returning it, but it felt weird. I didn’t wanna run into him, you know?”

“Such a small world,” Izumi muttered before linking arms with Sakura. “Smoothies are on me today.”

“Are you sure?”

“Yeah,” Izumi patted her on the arm. “Just leave it all to me.”

.

.

.

“Sasuke Uchiha!”

Sasuke sat up, pausing the game he had been playing with his brother-in-law. It was Saturday and after his shift at the vet he always visited for dinner. It was part of his weekend routine. What wasn’t part of that routine was for his sister-in-law to come bursting in through the front door of her condo shouting his name.

“What did you do?” Shisui asked, brows pulled down in confusion.

“Nothing,” Sasuke responded before a throw pillow was smacked against the back of his head. “What the hell, Izumi?”

“Why are you taking girls to your apartment, huh?” Izumi smacked him again. “Mama Mikoto didn’t let you move out so you could be acting like a little player!”

“Are you serious?” Shisui guffawed. “Sasuke got laid? Looks like Fugaku’s plan didn’t really work out. Wait, why do you know about it?”

“A girl in one of my classes was wearing that ratty old hoodie you gave him,”Izumi sniffed, tired from hitting Sasuke repeatedly with the pillow. She collapsed on the couch on the other side of Shisui.

“Wait,” Sasuke turned warily to look at Izumi, “You know Sakura?”

“Well at least you know her name,” Izumi snapped at him.

“Alright, hon,” Shisui rubbed her shoulders and tried to calm her down, “please spill all of the tea.”

“She doesn’t even have all of the facts,” Sasuke scoffed. Shaking his head he removed himself from the living room and headed to the kitchen where his older brother was preparing dinner. “Your spouses are irritating.”

“Did you use protection?” Itachi asked without looking up from chopping board.

“Of course I did.”

“That’s all I ask.”

Sasuke leaned against the sink and watched his brother make his knife cuts all even.

“Would you believe me if I said that this was all Kiba’s fault?”

“Don’t blame others, Sasuke.” Itachi dumped the onion he had been chopping into a pan on the stove and the oil cracked and sizzled. He stirred it up and then added minced garlic. “So...do you want to fix whatever happened with Izumi’s friend?”

“I’ve been trying but I haven’t been able to speak to her because I never see her around anymore,” he admitted. Sasuke had been waking up earlier than he ever did and still Sakura evaded him.

It was starting to feel as if Sakura didn’t mind Kiba’s slip up, that she had planned to leave anyway. Her friends did say that it hookups with neighbors were awkward, which could have probably meant that she had planned on never seeing him again.

The girl with the twin buns had mentioned something about rejection. Sasuke clucked his tongue and grabbed one of the julienned carrot slices. He chewed on it and thought over what the girl had said about rejection and getting dumped. And then about what Kiba said about asking if Sakura had a message and how she said not to bother with one.

Ah.

It all finally clicked into place and Sasuke no longer felt like eating. He dumped the rest of the slice into the sink and ruffled his already messy hair.

“I’m not really feeling it tonight, Itachi. I’ll talk to you later.”

“Are you sure?” Itachi turned away from the stove, concern laced in his tone. “You can wait and I’ll pack some stuff up for you and the guys. I know Hana would appreciate it if Kiba got some real food.”

“Nah. I’m sure he went out on a date tonight anyway.” Sasuke grabbed his backpack and went to the front hall to grab his shoes.

“Oh? I didn’t realize Kiba could get a date,” Itachi called from the kitchen.

“Yeah, well,” Sasuke grunted as he struggled with the heel of his Chuck Taylor’s, “one of us had to be able to.”

“You’re leaving already?” Izumi shrieked from her spot in the living room. “I’m not done talking to you!”

“Well, I’m done talking to you,” he retorted back before slamming the door.

“Rude!”

“Hon, he can’t hear you,” Shisui reminded her in a soft voice, attempting to calm her down. They had all been attempting to get pregnant for over a year and he didn’t need her stressing out. “Let’s just let Sasuke be Sasuke.”

“God, that’s what I’m actually worried about.” Izumi rolled her eyes and bowed her head forward. “Can you actually get that spot there? I got a knot.”

“Of course.”

.

.

.

Sakura immediately slammed a pillow over her head when the alarm went off, an instinct from her dorm days. Assholes were always setting of the alarm whenever they broke the microwave rule and decided that making popcorn at three in the morning was a brilliant idea. Usually it was nothing and they had made all of them march outside in whatever state of dress━or undress━they happened to be in.

She waited for whoever it was that was cooking, probably Karin, to deactivate the fire alarm in their apartment. After the alarm kept ringing and ringing, Sakura remembered that Tenten and Karin had gone to their friend Lee’s wedding in Suna.

“Oh, fuck!”

Scrambling out of bed, Sakura slipped on her fuzzy slippers. The door to her apartment had already slammed shut behind her when she realized she had forgotten her keys and the door had been set to automatically lock when it was closed.

She cursed loudly and was scolded by a mother dragging her sleepy kids down the stairs for her language.

“You should hurry out!” The woman’s husband shouted over the wailing of the fire alarm.

Sakura followed the family down the stairs and out into the garden apartment’s parking lot. There were a bunch of families huddling together, conversing with each other to try and figure out if it was an actual fire. She crossed the parking lot to where her car was parked and leaned against it. She hugged herself, feeling self conscious about having only an oversized t-shirt on. The Sasuke T-shirt.

Scanning the crowd of people, she didn’t spot him anywhere outside even though she did see the tall topknot kid and the gangly boy that Sasuke roomed with. Crouching down, Sakura used her car for support so that she wouldn’t fall onto the pavement. She didn’t want Sasuke’s friends to see her out there in nothing but the shirt she had worn for her walk of shame back to her apartment.

.It would have been nice to sit in her own car like what some of the residents were doing but she just had to forget her stupid keys. She was going to have to wait for the fire alarm to be deactivated and for someone from the fire department to tell them all it was safe to return to their homes.

If she had been smart enough to grab her keys━and her phone! She couldn’t believe she forgot her phone!━she could have been taking a small nap in her car. Sakura had barely any sleep the last few days. She had altered her schedule to keep from running into Sasuke and she had yet to get used to it. The alarm ringing had cut into the few hours she had expected to get that night.

I can’t even call maintenance about my door.

Sakura buried her face in her hands, muffling a scream of frustration.

.

.

.

Sasuke was glad the night the fire alarm went off at his apartment building that he had a shift at the animal clinic. He preferred working reception during the overnight shift because unless there was an emergency, the only humans he had to deal with were the vets and boarding staff.

Kiba had texted him about how they all had to wait outside until it was deemed safe to go back inside. Because of the time of the night that the alarm went off none of the office staff or maintenance members were around to let them know what was going on. A firetruck had even been dispatched to their garden apartment which meant the residents of the neighboring apartments were also woken up. Kiba had been lucky enough that the cat hair girl, Tamaki, had called to check on him so he and Shino just went to crash at her place.

Sighing, Sasuke adjusted the strap of his messenger bag on his shoulder and locked his car. The only problem of the permit parking only lots was that he could never find a spot in front of his own building when he came home late. Usually he would head to the gym after a shift but all he wanted was a shower and to get in bed. He was still recovering from all of those early mornings waking up to try and run into Sakura.

Making his way to his apartment, Sasuke did a double take unsure about something small that he saw sitting between a set of parked cars. Two weeks of searching and it wasn’t until he wasn’t looking for her that Sakura finally appeared back in his life.

“Sakura.”

Said girl lifted her head from where it was resting on her knees and blinked slowly up at him.

Jesus Christ, was she sleeping out here?

“Sakura,” he called out to her again, waving his hand to get her to focus more on him.

“Jesus Christ, not you.” Sakura buried her head back in her arms and knees.

If he were being honest, that hurt a bit. If he were being honest.

The raccoons can get her for all I care.

But he didn’t move from where he stood. Sasuke continued to watch her as she tried to make herself as compact as possible.

I’m going to regret this.

.

.

.

The next thing she knew, Sakura was flung into the air and then scooped up and tossed over a shoulder. It all happened so quickly that her mind went blank for a moment. She didn’t know what to say━didn’t know what had just happened.

He was carrying her like a sack of potatoes. A sack of potatoes!

“Sasuke, what the hell?”

“I’m taking you to my apartment. I’m assuming you locked yourself out when you evacuated.”

“Put me down, Sasuke!”

“Nope. You were making a stupid decision.”

“Well, it was my decision to make!” Sakura squirmed against his grip, attempting to free herself even if she ended up falling on her ass.

“Your decision was going to get you mauled by raccoons.”

Sakura stopped squirming and thought for a moment. The management had posted flyers about raccoons foraging in the community bins. And some of those raccoons could get almost as big as she was.

“Can I at least be allowed to save my dignity and walk by myself?”

Gently, Sasuke lowered her to her feet. He adjusted his shirt on her so that she was properly covered. And grabbing her hand so she couldn’t run, he led her up the stairs to his apartment.

“I’m not going anywhere.”

“I thought that the first time,” Sasuke muttered as he pulled her in front of him and unlocked his apartment door. He caged her in his arms as he did so to hinder any escape attempts while he was preoccupied.

With a hand on the small of her back, Sasuke pushed her forward into the apartment.

“Here,” Sasuke unlocked and handed her his phone, “call maintenance and see if they’re still here or if you’re going to have to wait until the office opens at nine.”

Without even waiting for her to do it he headed into his room and retrieved a towel and a shower caddy. That explained why the bathroom had been so sparse when it came to toiletries.

“I’m going to shower.” Sasuke dumped a duvet on the couch. “You can use that. The aircon is really strong.”

The bathroom door had shut and the water started running before Sakura used his phone to call maintenance. The number was on a magnet on his fridge just like in her own apartment.

She called and called again and no one picked up. She really wished that their voicemail box came with an away message for their hours. Giving up on calling for help, Sakura locked Sasuke’s phone up like a good girl who didn’t invade the privacy of others and curled up on the couch with the duvet.

She sighed to herself and snuggled into the blanket. It smelled like the fabric softener that Sasuke used in the laundry room. 

It would be very easy to sneak away now that Sasuke was in the shower. Very easy to forget about his neighborly behavior. But the more she tried to think of sneaking into his room for a pair of sweatpants and to think of somewhere else to hide, all she could think about was Sasuke standing in his scrubs from the animal hospital under the soft glow from the lamp post outside.

So soft. So worried.

Sakura sank deeper into her blanket burrito and groaned. She was worse off than she thought.

.

.

.

Sasuke stood outside his bedroom door and peered through his wet bangs at his guest sitting on the couch. Sakura was bundled up in his duvet, looking even smaller if that was possible. Shaking his head he entered his room and pulled out boxer briefs and a pair of sweatpants to wear.

He shimmied into them quickly and headed into the living room to check on Sakura.

“Were you able to reach maintenance?”

“Nope.” Sakura stretched her arms up and out of the cocoon she had created with his blanket. “As nice as this place is, they had to be flawed somewhere.”

Sasuke sat down next to her, keeping as safe of a distance as possible so he wasn’t crowding her.

“Where are your roommates?” Sakura asked after a moment.

“They went over to Kiba’s new girlfriend’s apartment. That girl in that building on the side closer to the main street named Tamaki?”

“Oh, the one with all of the cats.”

“Exactly. How did you know that?”

“She lost one of them and we found it trying to break into our apartment after it snuck into our building.”

“Ah.”

They were back to silence. They had never truly spoken and it was the reason why the silence now was so awkward. The longest conversation they had was with their bodies.

“Do you,” Sasuke mulled over his words, “want something to drink?”

He wanted to slap his own forehead or pinch the bridge of his nose. It was something on his mind but not the thing he wanted to bring up. He had wanted to ask if she wanted to discuss what had happened between them two weeks prior.

“No. I’m okay.” Sakura snuggled into the blanket again. “You should stop with the nicey-nice act. It’s getting weird. You don’t have to worry about me overstaying my visit. I’ll leave as soon as the leasing office opens.”

“Nicey-nice?” Sasuke narrowed his eyes at her in confusion. “It’s just an offer of a drink. And I don’t act. I do what I want because I want to.”

“Oh, I know that,” Sakura huffed. “You do what you want and don’t care about what other people want.”

“What are you even getting at? You don’t even know me,” Sasuke snapped, frustrated. “You’re the one that does what she wants. You’re the one that left.”

“You wanted me to leave!” Sakura turned to face him, cheeks flushed a vivid red. She opened her mouth but then closed it, cocking her head to the side as she observed the way Sasuke watched her.

His cheeks were dusted a pale pink and his lips were set in a tight line.

“You’re the one that left.”

“You didn’t want me to leave...did you?”

“Did I tell you to leave?” Sasuke closed his eyes and took a deep breath before exhaling it slowly. “I let you stay sleeping in my bed and let you wear my shirt when you had a perfectly good basket of clean clothes not even five feet away.”

“You wouldn’t even wake up. I thought that was ‘cause you didn’t care what I did.”

Sasuke averted his gaze and glared in the direction of the media entertainment set across from them.

“I’m not a morning person,” he admitted. “I take afternoon classes. I work third shift jobs and I was—“

He clamped up but now that he was talking Sakura didn’t want him to stop. The more words tumbled out of his mouth the more he pouted and the cuter he got. Reaching out to him, Sakura took his larger hand in her own small hand and rubbed her thumb over his.

“And you were what?” She asked him softly, leaning into him as she did so. Sasuke narrowed his eyes at her suspiciously but adjusted his body so that he carried her weight comfortably against him.

“Really, really comfortable. I don’t think anything could have woken me up, not even that god awful shrieking of that tiny friend of yours.”

“She’s not that tiny, we’re the same height.” Sasuke looked at her pointedly, an eyebrow raised. “Oh, shut up!”

Sakura giggled and nudged him with her shoulder. She flipped through different emotions quickly but Sasuke was grateful that she no longer seemed upset with him.

“I’m sure I could have woken you up.” Sakura shrugged and gave him a coy smile. “I actually had planned on it, until you know.”

“Oh? And how did you plan on doing that? I was out cold.”

“Wouldn’t you like to know.”

“I would.” Sasuke shrugged and returned the coy grin. “But I think you’re just bluffing at this point.”

Sakura scoffed. He was trying to goad her into making a move.

“Guess we’ll never kno━”

He was cut off by Sakura knocking him down onto the couch and straddling him. His eyes widened in surprise but he still gripped her hips in both of his hands. She brought the duvet up and covered herself and Sasuke as she covered his mouth with her own. She nipped and sucked, pulling his lower lip into her own mouth before slipping her tongue into his mouth and sighing contently.

She ghosted kisses on his jawline and dragged them down, keeping the blanket over her head so that Sasuke couldn’t see her as she pressed a kiss to the hollow of his throat and down his sternum, trailing them lower and lower.

Sakura could feel him trying to pull the blanket off but she held on tightly as she kissed right above his belly button, feeling the coarse hair that trailed from his navel again her chin. Needing the use of her hands, she let him tug the duvet away as she cupped him through his sweatpants.

“Are you sure you want━?” He sucked in a breath as she squeezed him through the cloth.

Sakura waggled her eyebrows as she slipped her hand into the band of his sweatpants. She gripped him in her hand and pumped her fist. With her other hand she tugged on the waistband of his pants. He lifted his hips to assist her in removing his pants. She only got them around his knees before she dragged her tongue up his hardening shaft. Flattening her tongue on the head, she played with the head of his cock before engulfing it with her mouth.

Sakura scooted up and lied down so that she could wrap her breasts━just large enough━around his shaft. She squeezed them together to hold him in place as she bobbed her head up and down as far as she could go.

She hummed in delight when Sasuke’s fingers sank into her hair.

Yeah, this would have been a good wake up call.

.

.

.

Sasuke groaned at the sensation of being completely wrapped in warmth. Sakura’s mouth was hot and wet and tight when she sucked in her cheeks. Any longer and she was probably going to make him come before he could even get a chance to touch her properly.

That just wasn’t happening━it couldn’t happen.

“Come here,” Sasuke ordered, gently nudging her head off of his cock.

“But I like where I am.” She gave him a sure lick and then another.

“Sakura. Just get up here.”

“No thank you.”

“Sakura just sit on my face.”

.

.

.

Sakura knew she was making a stupid face, mouth hanging open and eyebrows drawn down.

Did he really just…?

Sasuke sat up and pulled the borrowed━stolen━shirt over her head and worked on pulling off her cotton boy shorts. Sakura stood up and shimmied out of them, giving Sasuke a chance to fully remove his pants and boxer briefs. Once they were both free of all of the clothing they had on, Sakura went back to straddling him, still unsure of what he wanted her to do.

“Come on.” He tugged her up, guiding her with his hands to turn around so that her back was to him. “You gotta move further back than that. Come on.”

Legs  trembling, Sakura scooted back to align herself so that her thighs cradled Sasuke’s head. The height difference was a minor setback but with help from her hands it was likely to work out in their favor.

“Um,” Sakura looked over her shoulder, “do I start—“

She let out a squeak when Sasuke gave a sure lick against her core. The glare she tossed his way earned her another stroke of his tongue.

Okay doing this now I guess...

Sakura swirled her tongue along the head of his cock and with her hand she pumped at a slow pace, easing herself into steadier and faster strokes as she bobbed her head lower on his shaft. Flattening her tongue she dragged it up from the base to the head, making sure to dip the tip of her tongue along Sasuke’s slit.

A set of vibrations against her nether lips made her aware of his groaning against her folds.

She hummed back as she bobbed her head up and down again, matching with the tempo of her pumping fist, tightening on the downstroke.

Sasuke gripped her hips and held her against his mouth as he tugged her clit between his lips and sucked, rolling his tongue against the nub.

It was a peculiar sensation, not being able to see him moving but being able to feel everything as he twitched in her mouth and caused pleasant vibrations when he moaned.

Sakura grinded down, hoping he got the hint.

She cried out when he smacked her smartly on her bottom before pressing open mouth kisses to her labia. Sakura was about to turn in place again and shove her ass into his face when Sasuke took her clit back into his mouth and sucked hard at the same time he inserted two fingers, He hadn’t even considered easing her in with a single digit first.

Sakura gasped, clutching on the fabric of the couch cushion. She was going to end up coming all over his face at the pace Sasuke was going considering he was aware of how sensitive she was.

God, she wanted to come.

“Sa-Sasuke, I━” Sakura was cut off when a high pitched cry got caught in the back of her throat when Sasuke finally got her to that release she was itching for. Sasuke continued to lap at her folds, letting her ride out her orgasm.

Sakura could feel Sasuke sitting back up underneath her. He lifted her gingerly so that she didn’t fall off of the couch in the process. She could really appreciate all of the time he spent working out when he manipulated her body so easily so that she didn’t have to move around so much herself when she was feeling boneless after her high.

“Ah, fuck.” Sasuke pushed his bangs out of his face and huffed. “I gotta go get a condom. Gimme a sec.”

“It’s fine, “ Sakura breathed out. She tugged on his arms so that he wouldn’t pull away. “I’m on the pill so if you want to you can just, you know.”

Sasuke sat up on his knees and spread Sakura’s legs open on top of them. He took himself in hand and brushed the tip at her entrance.

“You sure?” He asked, rubbing himself around the opening and upward so that he flicked at her delightful little bundle of nerves.

“Just━please, Sasuke,” Sakura whined.

He didn’t want her begging tonight━morning, as the birds chirping outside under Sakura’s cries were warning him of the rising sun━so he did what she wanted and pushed himself inside of her. Sasuke went slow slow slow, thrusting at a steady pace, trying to build up to his own release slowly so he could have Sakura crying out so sweetly again.

Sasuke adjusted his body so he was cradle between her thighs and having to brace himself on one forearm as the hand on the other arm fondled a breast, kneading it and circling his thumb over her nipple. He covered her mouth with his own, not having had nearly enough of her kisses before she went down on him.

Sasuke build up to a faster pace of thrusts, Sakura’s moans rolling into his mouth and harmonizing with his groans. He knew she was getting close again by the clenching of her inner muscles around him and the way she clung to him, nails biting down on his shoulder blades and thighs squeezing tight around his hips.

“Harder, deeper,” she demanded and Sasuke willingly complied. He slowed his thrusts into a deep roll, snapping his hips hard against hers.

Sasuke snaked his hand down away from her breast and wrapped his hand around her thigh, pulling it tighter to him. The slow build up he wanted was flooding and soon he would be crashing into that blissful release. Sakura clenched tighter around him and he could no longer keep from spilling into her. Sasuke kept her tight up against him as he grinded into her deeply.

Suddenly he felt exhausted, reminding him that his plans for that morning was to take a shower and go to sleep because he had been running on barely four hours of sleep. He buried his head in the crook of Sakura’s neck and sighed.

“We should probably move to my room.”

“We should,” Sakura agreed. “But I’m too fucking tired.”

Sighing once more, Sasuke sat up and grabbed his clothes and Sakura’s. He slipped back into his underwear and sweatpants and helped Sakura back into his shirt. Grabbing the duvet, he wrapped it around Sakura so she looked like a burrito and then lifted her up over his shoulder again.

“Are you serious?”

“Maybe if I make it difficult for your to escape, you’ll actually stay this time.”

“I’m not going anywhere!” Sakura squealed as Sasuke dropped her onto his bed.

“Good.” He crouched down so that he was looking at her eye to eye. “Because as fun as this all is, I think it would be nice to know your last name. And your major. And what bands you like. But for now, sleep. We can talk in the morning.”

“It is morning,” Sakura reminded him. He gave her an unimpressed look that had her biting her lip to hold back the smile threatening to break out. “Fine. I’ll stay. I planned to.”

“Good,” he repeated before climbing into bed with her.

.

.

.

Kiba hung up his keys on the key hook right by the door. He and Shino had gone to the diner a few blocks away before heading back to their apartment and picked up something for Sasuke and themselves to eat.

Knowing the guy, Kiba was sure that Sasuke wouldn’t crawl out of his room until two in the afternoon.

“Something seems different,” Shino commented, slipping out of his street shoes when he entered the apartment.

“You know what,” Kiba frowned and looked around the living room, “you’re right. Something feels off. Almost...tainted.”

“I’m going to put the food away,” Shino announced. “And get the dogs something to eat too. Glad Tamaki was cool with us bringing them over last night.”

“Yeah, she’s the best.” Kiba dropped his body onto the couch. It was Sasuke’s couch technically, but it was so comfortable that he practically lived on it.

Huh? What’s that?

Kiba leaned over and grabbed something light blue that was peeking out from under the couch. Holding it up, it became apparent that what he was holding in his hands was a pair of girl’s underwear.

Kiba dropped it and shot up from the couch.

“What the fuck!? Sasuke!”

[firecrackerwrites]

You guys wanted cute potty training Link, so here it is!

Sometimes it started as a dull ache. Other times it started as a squirm that led to a bounce that led to Link fleeing full speed down the hallway. Either way, he had to be inclined to agree that reading his body was not a skill he possessed any longer. He was sure he had at one point, but after he’d started regularly regressing? Not so much. He’d blurred the lines between headspaces and now his body couldn’t keep up with it. Sure, he’d always had a notoriously small bladder, but nowadays it seemed like he was constantly rushing to either make sure he didn’t wet himself or to get himself cleaned up before someone saw if he did. He was starting to get tired of it. Half the time when they weren’t doing anything that required him to bend over or where his shirt might accidentally ride up, Link wore protection just to hedge his bets. 

He could tell that Rhett wanted to step in, but he was grateful that Rhett was keeping his distance. Though on some deeper more Little Link level, Link wanted help very much and it was all very confusing to him. But he pressed his headspace down and kept trying to forge on as an adult. He made it for all of three weeks before Rhett finally snapped, all that pent-up caregiver energy coming out full force one afternoon. It was right after Link’s most recent unsuccessful trip to the bathroom, when he’d emerged wearing a pair of their GMM sweats and carrying a plastic bag. 

“Link,” 

he nearly lost his mind with panic, shoving the bag behind him and relaxing once he realized it was Rhett that was approaching him. 

“Link,” Rhett sighed once he finally reached him. “Dude, we gotta do something about all this,” he murmured softly. “How many times has this happened today?” 

Link’s headspace plummeted and he looked down at his sneakers. “T-twice,” he stuttered. “But I forgot to bring more protection, so only the second time messed up.” 

Rhett gave a soft hum, looked over his shoulder and began to steer Link towards their office for a bit more private place to chat. “I know. I realized you’ve been having some problems lately,” he kept his voice pitched low until the door was firmly shut behind them. “But I think I have an idea on how to help fix that.” He took the bag from Link’s limp hand and tucked it into his gym bag to take home later. “Siddown for a minute, c’mere,” Rhett changed his mind halfway through his sentence, deciding instead that he would very much like to be selfish for a few minutes while they had this conversation and shamelessly get some cuddles from his boy. 

Instead of sitting on the downstairs sofa, he climbed up into the loft. Link trailed behind him mutely, clearly thinking that Rhett was upset with him somehow. Rhett folded himself down into the little blanket nest that Link had left up there and patted his lap reassuringly. “C’mere, buddy. I’m not mad at you, I just wanna talk for a minute, okay?” He’d stashed Link’s binky up there earlier, hoping he’d be able to get him to come up for a conversation. Rooting around the pile of soft blankets, he found it and held it up with a little knowing gleam in his eyes. “Come on, Link. Why don’t you come sit with me for a while, hmm? Come down here and sit with Bubba for just a little bit. I got somethin’ I need to ask you about.” 

Link didn’t look entirely convinced, nibbling on his fingers and shifting from foot to foot. Rhett patted his lap again with his free hand and that was it. That was all the stupid, grownup, icky self control Link could handle. He was done. He lowered himself to his knees and then crawled over to Rhett, smushing himself up into his lap as small as possible. Rhett put his binky in his mouth for him, which was good, because Link wasn’t sure he could move his hands from being clenched into Rhett’s shirt anyway. He let out a soft whine as he desperately sucked at his pacifier, grateful for the instant reaction as Rhett rubbed his back and shushed him. 

“I’m not mad at you, Bumblebee,” Rhett murmured, rocking a little and holding onto Link tightly. “I’m not mad. You haven’t done anything wrong. You just need a little help, that’s all. Now I have something to ask you, but you gotta promise not to be mad at me.” he rocked and hugged for another moment before tapping at Link’s shoulder softly. “C’n you sit up for me? I wanna see your face for a second while I talk to you,” Link let out another whine, the slightly slobbery squeaky noises coming from the desperate way he worked the pacifier were the only other noise in their little space. “Hey, come on,” Rhett kept his voice soft. “Come on, baby boy. I know you’re so sleepy and so scared, but can Bubba please see that cute little face?” he ran a hand through Link’s greasy hair (when was the last time the kid had taken a shower?) and hummed a little. “Stop hiding, Bumblebee. Please?” It took a good while (Rhett figured this was one hell of a drop for poor Link), but eventually he peeled his teary face away from Rhett’s midriff long enough to look up with a crinkle of the chin. 

“Oh, poor little Bumblebee,” Rhett crooned. “Don’t be upset, bo. Promise. Bubba’s got this all figured out, but you gotta work with me, okay?” Link gave a desperate and high pitched whine that typically meant ‘I am tired please, i want to nap right now, i’m so tired and cranky’. Rhett shushed him gently, cupping his cheek. “I know. I know you’re very sleepy, aren’t you?” he babbled on in the typical toddler and baby manner, just asking the same few questions and rubbing Link’s back to soothe him. “Just a few minutes and you can have a little nap, okay?” Link looked like he wanted to bury his face in Rhett’s shoulder again (and Rhett wanted nothing more than to cuddle him up close like that) but Rhett kept him at a little bit of a distance with his hands on his shoulders. “How do you feel about staying home with me for a few days? Does that sound good? We can work on your potty skills together and that way when we go back to work you won’t be so scared anymore. Deal?” Link whined again but a spark in his eye said he was interested. A beat of silence passed wherein he played with Rhett’s shirt a little before he dragged his binky out of his mouth and met Rhett’s gaze once more. “L-Link...” Link sounded like he might cry some more. Rhett didn’t begrudge him. This was a hard conversation to have. Rhett rubbed his thumb gently along Link’s cheek, giving an encouraging smile. “Link has potty?” he pointed off to the side and Rhett gave a little nod. It seemed the curious toddler had discovered the half-opened box Rhett had gotten delivered the night before.

“Yeah, Bubba got that just for you,” he said brightly, trying his hardest to keep this something exciting for Link. Christy and Jessie had helped him do a little shopping, and had outfitted the basement with an epic blanket fort. Christy had even put fun smelling and colored soaps in the basement bathroom so Link would remember to wash his hands. “It’s got your name on it, too.” Rhett finally gave in and let Link curl back up in his lap. “We’ll look at it when we get home. Right now I think you need a nap before we get back to work.” 

So maybe Rhett had forsaken doing work and cuddled with Link during his nap. They both needed it. In the end he’d just let him be little for the rest of the day, bundled him into the carseat and gone home early. As soon as he’d gotten Link upstairs, Link had been begging to look at the new potty. Rhett was sure he’d like it, they’d all picked it out and customized it to make it as special as possible. It was bright yellow, with black lettering spelling out Link’s name on the front, and little bumblebees “flying” around the sides with dotted lines to show where they’d come from. He pulled it out of the box and put it on the bed so Link could see it better. The distraction gave him the perfect time to search for the tube of rash cream. 

“Do you like it?” he called from the bathroom, opening the cabinets. 

“Letters?” Link asked quizzically, pointing. 

“That’s your name, Link!” Rhett said brightly, moving back into the bedroom, tube in hand. “See?” He pointed to each letter and spelled it out. “L-I-N-K. Link.” 

Link did a happy little wiggle. “Bumblebees!” he squeaked eagerly, jabbing a finger at the happy smiling bees. 

“That’s right, buddy! You’re so smart! Helpful little bumblebees for my little Bumblebee!” He tapped the mattress with one palm. “Now come lay down so I can put this on your owies.” Apparently he’d been having more accidents than he’d let on. When Rhett got him into the tub when they got home, Link had presented quite the case of diaper rash.

Link obediently clambered up and lay on his back. “No pants for Link?” he asked hopefully. 

“Only if Link uses his manners.” 

“Link no has pants, p’ease?” 

“Look at you being so polite, Link. Sure, buddy. You don’t have to wear pants if you don’t want to.” Rhett worked the clean pull-up back onto Link’s hips. “Now lemme wash my hands and we’ll go see if we can’t find that missing dinosaur binky.” 

After locating the missing binky, Rhett fed Jessie and Link their dinner and then Jessie disappeared off upstairs to play dress-up until Christy came home. Rhett had relocated Link downstairs into their little nest. Said little one was currently ensconced in a blanket, sucking on the newly recovered binky and waiting for Rhett to join him for several episodes of Bear In The Big Blue House (something that Link had recently discovered even if it was about a decade or two too late). Rhett made sure to set the training potty just inside the bathroom for easy access.

“Okay, Bumblebee,” Rhett crawled into the little refuge. “Let’s cuddle up, hmm?” 

He’d been refilling Link’s cup every hour or so, trying to get Link to at least maybe be able to feel that he had to go. Two hours in and Rhett was rewarded with a squirmy boy. He cleared his throat and paused the show. “Bumblebee,” he said quietly. “Does somebody have to go potty?” He looked down at Link and Link gave another delicate squirm. “Link,” he spoke clearly, shifting a little to get him off of his lap. “Link, look at me. I asked you if you had to go potty.” Link looked up from where he was twisting his shirt in his hands, eyes wide and teary. Rhett didn’t care right now what the reason for the tears was, he just wanted to boost Link’s self esteem by getting him to admit he had to pee. “Link?” Link nodded softly and kept squirming in place. “Potty.” he agreed, not taking out his binky. “Thank you for telling me, bo. Come on, let’s get you in the bathroom, then.” 

Well. Attempt number one had come close, but not close enough. Poor Link hadn’t been able to stand the jostling as Rhett all but carried him across the room. “It’s okay.” Rhett assured again, holding him close. “We’ll try again later. You want me to get you some juice?” A pathetic nod came from the depths of the blanket burrito that had replaced Link. “Okay. I’ll get you some juice and then we can try again later.” 

[thelastspeecher]

For the prompt, how about the werevamp au where Stan and Angie celebrate Chistmas together since Angie can't exactly go home to her family to celebrate, but also it's also Stan's first actual Christmas

I wanted to include something at the end about Angie asking Stan when Jewish holidays are so they can celebrate them together, too, but I liked it ending like this.  So here, have Stangie celebrating Christmas in a cheap motel room with a sad Charlie Brown Christmas tree.

              Stan wokeup freezing.  Without opening his eyes hereached out for Angie.  His hands brushedagainst blankets, but not Angie’s warm body. He opened his eyes.  He was alonein the bed.

              “Angie?”he asked.

              “I’m overhere, darlin’,” a soft voice said.  Stansat up with a groan.  He lookedover.  Angie was crouched on the sill ofthe only window in the cheap motel room, staring outside with a distantexpression.

              “What’swrong?”

              “Nothin’.  It’s just…” Angie sighed.  “I can’t believe it’sChristmas Eve.”

              “Oh,yeah.  It is.”  Stan got up from the bed and walked over tohis girlfriend.  “Merry Christmas,” hesaid, putting a hand on her shoulder. Angie sighed again.  “Babe,somethin’s wrong.  What is it?”

              “I can’tremember any of my fam’ly’s holiday traditions,” Angie said after a moment.  “I- I know we had ‘em.  I have this- this vague memory of warmfeelin’s and comfort.  A full stomach.  But I can’t remember anyone involved, or whatexactly we were doin’, and-”  Sheswallowed.  “What sort of Christmastraditions does yer fam’ly have?”

              “Uh,none,” Stan said.  Angie stared athim.  “I’m Jewish.”

              “…Oh.”  Angie’s mouth quirked in a small grin.  “Didn’t know there were Jewish vampires.”

              “Didn’tknow there were Christian werewolves.”

              “Touche.”  Angie looked out the window again.  She wrapped her arms around herself.  “I just- I want to celebrate with my fam’ly.”

              “Youmight not be able to celebrate with them, but you’ve got me,” Stan said.  Angie managed a small, weak smile.  “Whattaya wanna do?”

              “Gocaroling.”

              “Uhh…”

              “I’mkidding,” Angie said, nudging him.  “But jokin’aside, it might be nice to get a tree.”

              “It’sChristmas Eve.”

              “Mm-hmm.”

              “You dorealize that if we manage to find a tree, it’s gonna be one of those shittyCharlie Brown ones, right?”

              “It’sstill a tree.”

              “Yeah.  Okay. Lemme get dressed.”  Stan walkedover to the chair he had tossed his clothes onto the day before.  He picked up his shirt and sniffed itidly.  “Did your family go to church onChristmas Eve?  My high school girlfriend’sfamily did.”

              “I haveamnesia, I don’t-”  Angie paused.  “No, wait. I do remember.  Yes. We did.”

              “So youguys were like, Christian Christians.”  Deciding the shirt didn’t smell too bad, Stanslipped it on.  “I shoulda figured.”

              “How couldya have figured it out?  I didn’t realizeI grew up goin’ to church until ya just asked me.”

              “A fewthings.”  Stan tugged on a pair of pants.  “You never say ‘God’, you say ‘Lord’ or ‘goodness’.  You corrected a Bible quote we saw the otherday.  And whenever we’re around jewelry,you go right for the crucifix necklaces.”

              “Huh.  Yer right, there were a lot of ways to figureit out,” Angie said softly.  Stan turnedaround.  “Why are ya wearin’ thoseclothes again?” Angie asked.

              “They don’tsmell.”

              “Not toyou,” Angie muttered.  She got down fromthe windowsill.  “A few things are comin’back to me.”

              “Yeah?”

              “Yeah.”  Angie furrowed her brow.  “When we went to the Christmas Eve service,my older brother would always fall asleep. And my- my older sister…  We hadto dress up, so she’d braid my hair fer me.”

              “You havea brother and sister?”

              “…Iguess.”

              “Do youremember their names?” Stan asked.  Angieshook her head.  “You’ll remembereventually.”  Stan shrugged on hisjacket.  “What’s the flavor ofChristianity your family practices?  Newand Improved or Classic?”  Angie staredat him, bemused.

              “Wh-which branch of Christianity is which?”

              “Catholicsare Classic, and the other one is New and Improved.”

              “Hon, that’snot-”  Angie shook her head.  “Okay, well, Classic.”

              “You’reCatholic?”

              “Yep.”  Angie frowned, thinking.  “I remember vaguely learnin’ prayers thatweren’t in English.”

              “Latin?”

              “No…”  Angie shook her head again.  “I could almost hear one of ‘em, but it’sgone.”  She looked up.  “Let’s go get us a tree.”

----- 

              Stan dugthrough the grocery bag.  Angie hadinsisted that they not steal on Christmas Eve, but he wanted to make sure thatshe didn’t see the one item he had surreptitiously pocketed at the store.

              “Youreally should shower,” Angie said.  Shewas decorating the tree they had found at the lot.  It looked exactly as Stan had warned:scraggly, tiny, and losing needles with every jostle.  Angie carefully draped a cheap garland overthe tree’s branches.

              “I showeredyesterday.”

              “Youshowered three days ago.”  Angie lookedat Stan.  “I love ya to bits, but I havea wolf’s nose, Stanley Pines.  If ya goone more day without takin’ a shower, I will hose ya down myself.”

              “Don’t offersomething if you don’t plan on following through.”

              “Itwouldn’t be sexy,” Angie warned.  Stansnorted.

              “That’swhat you think.”

              “No, Imean it.  Think less ‘we are bothunclothed and there are soap bubbles everywhere’ and more ‘I am fully clothed,holding you down while I hold the shower directly over yer head like I’m givin’a dog a bath’.”

              “…Could stillbe sexy.”

              “Lord,yer insufferable.”

              “You knowit, babe.”  Stan found the small box hewas looking for, slipped it into his back pocket, and kissed the top of Angie’shead.  She swatted him playfully.  “When do we put up our socks for free candy?”

              “Afteryou shower.”

              “Fine,fine.”  Stan strode into the bathroom,whistling.  He paused before closing thedoor.  “Hang on.”

              “Stan, Imean it, I can’t deal with yer stink much lon-”

              “Did youjust say you loved me?” Stan asked. Angie stilled.  “If you did, I’d-”

              “Justshower,” Angie said in a small voice.  “Please.”

----- 

              Tenminutes later, Stan opened the bathroom door to let the steam out while hefinished toweling off.  He paused.  Someone was singing.

              “O, holynight, the stars are brightly shining…” Stan stuck his head out.  Angiewas sitting in front of the tiny tree, her eyes closed, singing.  A small smile began to spread across Stan’sface.

              I don’t get to hear her sing very often.  He cleared his throat.  Angie looked over, startled.

              “That wasnice.”

              “…Thanks,”Angie mumbled, her face pink.  She duckedher head.  “And thank you fer showerin’.”

              “Eh, Iwoulda had to shower soon anyways, if I wanted to maintain my impeccablehairstyle,” Stan said, gesturing to his mullet. Angie snorted.  “You should singmore.”

              “I don’tknow.  I feel so strange singin’ in frontof people,” Angie said quietly.  Stanwalked over, only wearing a towel wrapped around his waist.  He sat on the floor next to her.

              “I’m ahomeless vampire.  Pretty sure I don’tcount as people.”

              “Nah, youdo.”  Angie leaned against him.  “By the way, earlier, when I said I loved you…”

              “Yeah?”

              “I meantit.”  Like her, Angie’s voice was soft,but full of warmth.  “And it ain’t someStockholm Syndrome thing, neither.  You-yer a good man, and you challenge me and take care of me and-”  Angie kissed Stan on the cheek.  “I can’t think of anything else to describemy feelings fer you.”

              “Not justreally good friends?”

              “No,Stan.  I love you.”  Angie’s eyes caught his determinedly.  “I mean it.” Stan stared back at her silently, at a loss for words.  Finally, he cleared his throat.

              “Okay,uh, yeah, uh, I guess, uh-”  He clearedhis throat again.  “I’ve got somethingfor- uh-”  He rushed back to thebathroom.

              Dumbass, why’d you put it in your pantspocket if you were gonna take your pants off right away?  Stan dug hurriedly through his pile of clothes.  Ha!  He grabbed the small box from earlier andreturned to where Angie was sitting. Angie cocked her head at him curiously.

              “What’sgoin’ on?”

              “Here.”  Stan handed her the box.  Angie shot another confused glance in hisdirection before turning her attention to the box.  She slowly opened it.

              “Oh.”

              That’s it?  An “oh”?

              “You hateit,” Stan said, dejected.

              “No,”Angie said.  She removed the necklacefrom the box.  “No, Stan, I love it.”  She let the chain of the necklace slipthrough her fingers to admire the crescent-shaped charm.  “A lil moon.”

              “‘Causeyou’re a werewolf.”  Stan rubbed the backof his neck.  “Girls like sparkly things,and you always get excited when we go to a store with jewelry, and you don’thave any jewelry, so I figured-”

              “This iswonderful,” Angie said softly.

              “It’s nota cross, though.  You always look at thecrosses.”  Stan scratched his cheek.  “I’m allergic to religious shit, so that’swhy I didn’t get the cross, but it’s still not-”

              “Shut yeryap and help me put this on, would ya?” Angie interrupted.  Stan grinned. Angie handed him the necklace and turned around.  Stan carefully clasped the chain.  Angie turned around again.  The necklace sparkled on her sweater.  “Does it suit me?”

              “Babe,everything suits you,” Stan said earnestly. Angie laughed.

              “Stan,this was a wonderful Christmas present. Thank you.”  Her eyestwinkled.  “I actually got you somethin’,too.”

              “Really?”

              “Mm-hmm.”  Angie nodded at the tree.  A box was resting underneath it.  “Go ahead. Open it.”  Stan eagerly ripped thebox open.  His eyes widened.  “I saw you lookin’ at those watches.”

              “Oh,hell, yes,” Stan breathed.  He slid thewatch onto his wrist.  “Now my wristlooks way classier than the rest of me. It’s perfect.”  Angiechuckled.  “How did you afford this?”

              “…I didn’t.”

              “Ithought you said you didn’t wanna steal on Jesus’ birthday.”

              “Hisbirthday’s tomorrow.  Not today.”

              “Myhabits are rubbing off on you.”

              “Yep.”

              “Probablynot a good thing.”

              “Fer ahomeless vampire and werewolf, I think it’s perfectly fine.”  Angie leaned in and kissed Stan on thelips.  “Merry Christmas.”

              “MerryChristmas.”

[lizzybeth1986]

Nuestra Familia (RCD MC: Astrid)

Book: Red Carpet Diaries

Rating: G

Pairing: Astrid-centric, minor Seth x Astrid

Summary: Astrid realises she doesn't know her family as well she had thought. Minor crossover with The Freshman/The Sophomore/The Junior.

Author's Note: This is a bit late for MC Appreciation Week, but I figured I'd put it out there anyway. This is my origin story for Astrid Ortega, my second RCD MC, who is involved with Seth. There's a cameo of one character from TF/TS/TJ in the end and I have a feeling you folks have already figured out who it is 😅 I used (of course) the "crossover" prompt from this list for my fic. I'm tagging @choices-mc-rules, in case they would still like to reblog this.

Translations:

Nuestra familia - "our family" in Spanish.

Chanclas - slippers/flip-flops

Tres leches cake - Typically a very moist chiffon cake soaked in a mixture of evaporated milk, condensed milk and heavy cream. Tres leches literally means "three milks".

Abuela - one of the terms used for ‘grandmother’ in Spanish.

Ita - Short for Abuelita, also used for grandmothers. Astrid calls her grandmother the former, her mom Teresa calls her grandmother the latter.

Manda Huevos - Can mean a lot of things according to context, but generally used to express a range of emotions, such as annoyance, disappointment, contempt or disbelief. In this context, Teresa means “it's not fair”.

If I've gotten anything wrong in terms of references, please do tell me, and I'll definitely fix it in the fic.

“One more foot inside my kitchen and it'll be my chanclas for you later.”

Teresa Ortega said these words to her daughter Astrid, in the same tone one would use to offer a guest some tea.

It wasn't that her mom didn't allow her kids to help with the cooking. She did. Salome was too young to do much but set the table yet but Astrid (and her big sister Letitia, whenever she was home) often pitched in to help with the meal.

But heaven help anyone who tried to help Mom with her tres leches cake.

This recipe was from Mom's Ita’s faded little diary, passed down to her by her mother on the condition that she would learn its recipes off by heart. It was her pride and joy, Mom would often say. Her baby before her actual babies came along.

And today it was even more essential Mom get this cake right. Astrid's abuela was visiting, and ever since Astrid's mother insisted on naming her Astrid (“She’s already named my first and last - at least leave the middle one to me!”) she could do nothing right.

Perhaps it would've been easier to handle if Dad wasn't Abuela's only son, if Mom had someone she could jointly ignore Abuela with, if they had cousins they could play with while the adults sorted out their issues. Or perhaps not. Still, it would have been nice to know.

“Easy, mom, I'm not going to touch your precious cake,” Astrid said, grinning, “Lemme demolish it at lunch instead.”

She'd be lying if she said she wasn't tempted, though. She could get the scent of baked cake wafting in all the way from her bedroom, and her mother was already starting to combine Carnation milk, condensed milk and 1/4th of a cup of heavy cream into a thin, but somewhat creamy, mixture.

Mom raised her eyebrows. “Why are you here, then?”

Astrid felt the muscles around her neck tense up, but schooled her face to a look of injured innocence. “What, can't I just want to talk to my mom once in a while?”

She craned her neck a little further behind Astrid, a tiny frown beginning to form between her brows. “What's that you're holding behind your back?”

Ding! The cake was ready now, just in time for soaking. Astrid let out a sigh of relief. She wanted Mom to see this wedding card, yes - it was why she came to the kitchen in the first place - but now was probably not the time for questions. Questions about family or about secrets. Not when she knew how important it was for her mother to get her weekend cakes right.

“Family” was always a big deal around the Ortega table. Dad was his mother's only child, and Mom’s parents passed on long before any of them were ever born. Her father was as annoyed by Abuela's antics as her mother was, but it never stopped him from having her visit every Sunday because “she's the only family we have left”.

It was as if he needed her to keep himself rooted, as if without her he would be floating aimlessly, no aim or identity, taking his wife and children down that path with him. Abuela knew this. By God, did she know this.

Or so I thought, Astrid said to herself, gripping the wedding card tightly and creating new creases where the word Ortega was written.

Mom was gritting her teeth now, carefully pouring the three-milk mixture over the cake and muttering to herself. “One more word about dry cake this time and I'll give her soggy toast, I swear I will.”

Astrid would have stood up last week and said something to Abuela, if only Mom would let her. It was probably a good thing Leticia wasn't around, she'd fire shots at Abuela for less. She was protective over all of them and often in the heat of the moment she'd forget she’d be landing them all in further trouble.

She was still muttering. “Wants chiffon cake. Screams bloody murder if I use box mix. What, Teresa, looking for shortcuts again?” Mom's voice was raised in an accurately nasal imitation of Abuela's voice. It was almost like she'd forgotten Astrid was there. “Then I make it from scratch like she wants. Then it's Oh Teresa this is so dry oh Teresa it tastes like sawdust. Why else do you think I use box mix, eh? You want it from scratch and you want moist. ¡Manda Huevos!”

The diatribe kept Mom occupied while she finished pouring, so Astrid kept silent. Mom needed this. This wasn't something she can say in front of Letitia (resulting in another Sunday screaming match) or Dad (what would he do?) or Salome (no way would the kid ever take Salome, language! seriously again). Mom needed someone to have her back, no matter how silently or secretly. And that someone had better be her.

“If only Linda had stayed…”

Astrid froze. “What did you say?”

Mom looked up, blinked twice, then stiffened. “Nothing. Nothing.”

Silently, Astrid handed over the card she'd been holding, all this time. She found it while searching for her dad's treasured García Lorca poetry collection, hidden between a page that exalted love and a page that mourned loss.

Mom took it from her, her eyes widening as she read the words.

LINDA ORTEGA

and

DOMINIC SANDOVAL

request the honour of your company at their wedding.

“Dad always told us he was all Abuela has, right,” Astrid said, “The only Ortega for miles around."

Mom answered by busying herself with more activity than ever. Keeping the soaked cake in the fridge. Pouring the remaining milk mixture into two glasses. Washing her hands. Washing the dishes.

“I'll do that for you,” Astrid took a plate from Mom's hands, “Just talk to me.” She grabbed a sponge and dish washing soap, cleaning vigorously. “All this time, Dad's been telling us Abuela's the only family he has, Mom. Like, he has no one else. Like, we have no sisters or brothers besides the three of us. Was he lying?”

“You're wrong,” Mom said, her voice suddenly sounding sharper, harder, “Abuela's the only family he has left. Your father didn't lie.”

“Just omitted the truth, yeah,” Astrid wished she knew how she felt about this. Right now there was so much she was feeling that she didn't exactly know where to begin. “There's no “together with our parents” above their names either. Not like yours’.”

Mom sighed, picked the card up, then held up two glasses of milk-mixture in front of her. “Take one and give the other to your sister. I have a lot of work to do.”

On any other day, Astrid would have grabbed that glass and relished its creaminess, wiping the milk-moustache off her mouth with a flourish. But today no amount of sweetness was going to take away that weird metallic taste in the roof of her mouth.

“I'm not done asking about this,” Astrid said, scowling, “to you or to Dad. If I have aunts and cousins out there, that's something I wanna know.”

Astrid did try in the weeks to come. But she never saw the wedding card again, and neither Mom or Dad ever responded when she raised the topic again. Still. It felt nice to dream.

Every time Abuela made a snide remark at lunch, she imagined her cousins there. A snarky younger girl who’d make smartass comments. A strong boy her age who’d shut Abuela up with just a glare. A nice aunt who’d take Mom's mind off all this nonsense. It didn't help much, but it felt nice.

It felt nice knowing she had company out there. Somewhere.

--

6 years later.

“Donuts, Iowa?” Seth’s eyes were gleaming at the prospect. He was more a bag-of-chips kinda guy most days, but he also liked having massive sugar rushes before a comedy gig.

“As long as the insides of six of those are practically spilling over with fruit jam, I'm game,” she said, standing on her tiptoes to kiss his cheek. It felt exhilarating, freeing. She hadn't felt this normal in a while - normal enough to kiss her boyfriend without worrying about paparazzo jumping out from a bush. There was a guy in a leather jacket she didn't recognize - three blocks across - looking at her like he wanted to talk, but not in a way that made her feel unsafe.

That was the nice thing about Northbridge. People looked, sure, but they were less likely to make you feel like an exhibit from a zoo.

“Wait here, yeah?” Seth said, planting a kiss on the lips instead, “I'll be back before you can finish spelling “OHIO” with your arms.”

Astrid laughed. Seth said the most Ohio things sometimes. Neither of them had had this much fun since she was offered a lead role in Tender Nothings, which was why Seth always jumped at a chance to take up gigs in Northbridge, and why he always offered to take Astrid along when she was free.

The guy from before stepped forward a few minutes after Seth entered the donut shop. The summer heat must have been too much for him - his leather jacket was now slung over his shoulders. “Um, hello. Astrid Ortega?”

He stood with his hands in his pockets, mouth pursed into a thin line, a tiny curl slipping carelessly from his hair and resting on his forehead. She caught a peek at the tail end of a bird tattoo (Owl? The tail looked pointy) on his left arm.

“Yeah,” Astrid said, wondering whether it was her or Seth he wanted to talk to, “but I don't know what your name is.”

“ Zigmund. Zig for short,” he replied, looking behind him from time to time, “My sister Lucy’s a big fan. Asked me to help her get an autograph from you.”

“Is she here?”

“Yeah. But she doesn't want to come out. She's shy.”

Ah. So that was the cherry-red blur barely hidden by that building. She learned long ago that no matter how friendly you appeared, your image would precede you and intimidate people anyway. Autographs were great, but somehow she didn't want to stop at just that.

“Would she come out now if I asked?” she gave him her sunniest smile, “Tell her I won't bite.”

Zig hesitated, then nodded. Astrid watched him walk to the other building, move his hands expressively as he tried to convince his sister to join him (from that angle he almost looks like Letitia, Astrid thought), and return with a curly-haired, starry-eyed teenage girl.

“H-hey,” she said, then blushed, clearly embarrassed by her nervousness. Silently, she hands over her autograph book. She keeps her eyes studiously away from Astrid's face. “I, um, I like mystery films, and I really, really liked Tender Nothings.”

A girl after my own heart. “Maybe you'll like Sunset Boulevard, then,” she said, smiling.

Astrid could have just signed and left it at that, but there was something about these two. Something about the way they stood together, or exchanged glances, or something, that reminded her of home. Which was silly. But it didn’t change the fact that she wanted to leave a good impression on them.

“What would you like to be when you grow up, Lucy?”

Lucy didn't miss a beat. “Ballet dancer. Like my brother.”

Astrid smiled, particularly at the look the girl gave Zig. Yes, she could see on second glance that even though some people would say he didn't have the body of a dancer, he held himself with a certain grace, a certain lightness that belied a stronger core. Hit by a sudden rush of inspiration, she quickly scribbled a little note to go with her signature, and asked Lucy to read it.

To Lucy and Zig, future (hopefully!) best ballet dancing duo in America. Be sure to save me a seat when you folks get famous. Love Always, Astrid.

“Wowwww,” Lucy whispered. Zig suppressed his smile, trying not to let how he felt show, and failed. A corner of his mouth lifted upwards, revealing an almost-invisible dimple.

The two left before Seth brought his box of donuts,but they thanked her at least thrice as they walked away.

“Wait till I tell Mom about this,” Astrid overheard Lucy tell her brother as they left, “I told you she'd be really, really nice.”

“You did,” there was a note of indulgence in Zig's voice.

"Ortegas all around the world. Wherever we're from, we're nice.”

Had Seth come out a moment later, Astrid would have probably walked up to them and asked. Perhaps asked them where they were from and their parents’ names.

But Seth was here, with donuts, and there was never a moment she could take her eyes off either.

“Do you know those two?” Seth asked her, passing her a tres leches cake donut that was claimed to be one of their best, “They looked familiar.”

“”No,” Astrid replied, closing her eyes in bliss. Mmmm. The treat was taking her back to Des Moines, back to home, back to her mother's little kitchen. “But I wouldn't mind meeting them again.”

--

[writersindigestion]

hostess || jerome valeska x reader

“he keeps you in a box by the bed - alive, but just barely.”

reader gender: female

words: 7919

warnings: violence, NSFW, abuse. He’s evil, folks!

also available on: AO3

The fact that she was lucky was fortunate for [Y/N]. When she cheated on a test, she didn’t get caught. When she ran red lights, she didn't get caught. When she rolled dice, she got Yahtzee every time. When she stole expensive things from high-end retailers, the staff practically helped her pocket their merchandise. And she supposed it was some sort-of luck that she ended up in the same department store as a recently escaped convict.

She’d been in the process of casing the building, planning on returning at a later date to commit a felony, when a man strode in her direction. [Y/N] paid him no mind - she didn’t know him, and there was no reason to assume that he knew her, so she figured he’d carry on without much incident. How surprised she was to glance up from her cell phone only to be engulfed by a pair of strong, unfamiliar arms.

Instinctually, she made a move to scream, but her face was entirely smothered by a broad shoulder. Before she could even begin to struggle, the arms held tighter.

There was a hot whisper in her right ear, breath wafting down her neck. “If you don’t play along, it’s gonna mean big trouble for you, toots.”

She felt herself being rocked from side-to-side like he was an affectionate lover and not some malevolent stranger.

“Understand?”

Withholding a whimper, she nodded minutely, her face chafing against the person’s jacket.

He pulled back, raspy voice full of ‘sincere’ joy. “Sorry about that, babe. It’s been a long day. How’ve ya’ been?”

[Y/N] ran her eyes over the man’s face in a frantic grab for recognition, but the only recognisance she found made her absolutely sick to her stomach.

Still, she cracked a nervous smile. “I’ve been okay. A little tired, but I’m alright.” Fuck, fuck, fuck. What was she going to do? This had got to be a nightmare. There’s just no other explanation.

Jerome Valeska grinned, lips spreading wide across his cheeks. The murderer brought his hood in closer to his face, the beanie beneath covering a shock of fiery hair. “You too, huh? Let’s get home then!”

His hand found its way to hers, the grip bordering on painful - a reminder, probably, to not to do anything stupid. She forced her feet to match his pace as they made their way to the nearest exit, feeling him rest his head near her shoulder for a moment.

“Don’t you dare even look at anyone else.”

[Y/N] didn’t, keeping her eyes straight ahead of her the whole walk to the car.

He snatched the keys from her quivering fingers, not letting her go as he opened the passenger door. She made a sound of surprise as he shoved her in, forcing her over the middle console before climbing in as well. He slammed the door shut, tossing the keys into the cupholder and turning to his new captive with a flourish. “Well then - your house? Or mine? Better make it yours, now that I think about it,” He giggled nonsensically to himself, playing with the dice hanging from her rearview mirror, “These are kinda corny, you know?”

The terrified woman had no idea how to respond, but she swallowed thickly and tried to anyways. “M-My house? You want to go there?”

Jerome didn���t reply for a moment, shuffling through her glove compartment for something worth looking at. “Huh? Oh, yeah - your house.”

“Um, isn’t there somewhere else you want to go?” [Y/N] asked shakily, starting the car with a definite reluctance.

He stopped rummaging for a moment, looking at her with disbelief. “Where do you suppose I should go? Besides back to Arkham - that shit is painfully boring.” For another few moments, he continued snooping, until he paused once more, “You don’t have a roommate, do you?”

She drew in a sharp breath, but shook her head.

“That’s fortunate,” Jerome chimed, sounding like he chewed on gravel for a living, “For you and for them - they’d definitely have to die.”

She didn’t reply, and he didn’t continue, humming absently to himself as [Y/N] drove him to her apartment. And surprisingly, that was all he had to say - that is, if you don’t count the occasionally pensive expression followed by maniacal giggling. That wasn’t so much talking as it was spazzing, but she wasn’t about to make any verbal complaints.

When the car came to a complete stop, and the keys were out of the ignition, the hostage woman could hardly find the strength to get out of the car. It didn’t seem to matter either way, because he sidled over to the driver’s door and practically ripped it off its hinges, gesturing for her to exit. She did, clumsily.

And now the pair sat at her small, round dining table, a bowl of Cheetos between them. [Y/N] hadn’t the stomach to eat anything at the moment, and so her captor had coveted the bowl into his arms, chomping noisily while she looked on in silent terror.

After several fistfuls of cheesy snacks, the redheaded male piped up, “What’s your name, sweetcheeks? Mine’s Jerome, but I guess you know that already!” His snickered, watching her grip the tabletop as if to steady her poor, shaking hands.

“Uh… Um…”

He kicked her chair, earning a shriek. “What wazzat, girly? Can’t hear you when you won’t open your mouth.”

The female in question got her answer out much quicker this time, “[Y/N].”

Jerome made a long noise of acknowledgement, cheeks full of Cheetos and fingers lightly coated in orange dust. “Alrighty then - tell me about yourself. None of the boring shit, please.”

She was silent, blinking in disbelief. What the fuck did he want her to say? What was there to say in the first place?

His eyelids sunk, and he rose from the table, snorting as she flinched at his sudden movement. After unnecessarily using about half her bottle of dish soap in washing his fingers, he sat back down, her sink overflowing with suds. The murderer pulled his hat off, tossing it haphazardly behind him and letting his somewhat-flattened red hair float around his head. He rested his chin in his hands, blinking owlishly at the woman before him. “Okay - get it off your chest. Go ahead and beg for your life, or whatever. I know it’s bugging you,” Jerome sighed, absently checking his nails.

[Y/N] inhaled sharply, feeling a sob creeping up her throat, but she pushed it back down, still unable to stop the tears from winding down her cheeks. “I-I don’t know what you want, or what you’re looking for. I have money, I have jewelry, I have some nice things - whatever it is you want, you can have,” She offered hastily, her entire body alight with fear.

“I don’t want or need those things,” Jerome deadpanned, “I need somewhere to stay.”

The woman was quick to strike a new deal, “I can get you a hotel room, or a motel - anywhere you want!”

“Mhmm, and where are you going to find a place that will take me as a tenant?”

“Do you want weapons? I don’t really have anything of use, but I know people who do. Do you want to get out of the city? Out of the state? Country? Continent?”

“Tempting, but I’m pretty comfortable riiiiight here in Gotham.”

A few moments of silence passed the both of them by.

“Is there anyone that knows you that would let you stay with them?”

“You know me,” He commented, grinning toothily.

[Y/N] gulped, “I meant, like, friends?”

“Uh-uh.”

“Family?”

Jerome cackled. She took that as a negative.

“... Your, uh, cult, maybe?”

“Great people, lotsa fun,” He started, gesturing to his visage, “Totally untrustworthy. One of em’ tried to steal my look.”

She was at a loss.

“You done yet?” He inquired, leaning back in his seat.

The woman wiped at her tear-stained face with the sleeves of her sweater, and nodded minutely.

“Did that make you feel any better?”

She opened her mouth to speak, but was cut off almost immediately.

“Don’t answer that - I really don’t care,” Jerome interjected, “Now… Lemme hear about my wonderful host.”

A few minutes had passed by since the first time he’d asked her that, and she had no better insight into what exactly he wanted to hear. He seemed to take her silence as further confusion, and though he was exasperated, he didn’t seem close to violence - yet.

“Are you really going to make me do all the work here?” The criminal croaked, rolling his eyes to the ceiling, “Let’s start with something easy - you gotta job?”

Why, yes, Mr. Terrifying Serial Killer, I have a job stealing stuff from stores I don’t shop at! [Y/N] stumbled around her answer, “I work for a pawn shop, mostly for the owner’s wife. She’s a jeweler.” That was a safe reply - not a lie, but not the whole truth. Unfortunately, the man was much more perceptive than she had previously imagined. His eyes narrowed in her direction, and she could feel her stomach sink. What was the price for lying to Gotham’s resident scourge?

“Mhmm, yeah, and I murdered my parents,” Jerome retorted, making a big, pointless show with his hands as he spoke.

“But, uh, you actually did that, didn’t you? Or did I read the wrong tabloid?”

He let out a rapturous guffaw that had her nearly jumping out of her seat, but as soon as it came, it went, and he was back to being ‘serious’. “Yeah, no, I definitely killed them - I was just gloating.” The man suddenly bent forward, grabbing his hostage’s arm and yanking her towards him.

She yelped, taking ahold of his arm as well, but made no move to further the altercation. It was a fight that she would lose, no matter how lucky she usually was. Her breaths were short as he leaned in closer to her face, his still-healing scars able to be seen in great detail now that he was practically stealing the air she needed.

“I don’t know what those tabloids told you, but I’m not an idiot, sweetcheeks, and I know a lot about liars - one of them killed me, believe it or not!” Jerome whispered throatily, not moving away, “You’re definitely a liar, and lemme tell you something - you can’t lie to me, not even for a second.” He hooked his foot around the leg of her chair, drawing her even further into his grasp. The redhead’s voice darkened the more he spoke, “And if, by chance, you manage to lie to me, the next place you’ll find yourself lying is in the garbage disposal. Got it?”

He needn’t have asked, she was already scared shitless.

“Great, now that we’re on the same page, why don’t you tell me where you really work. This apartment is pretty middle-of-the-road for someone who claimed to have enough money to buy her life from me.”

[Y/N] wet her lips, eyeing her trapped arm nervously. He’d dragged her chair so far forward that their knees were touching, and she silently cursed her tiny choice in eating surfaces. It worked out so that she had to bend her torso across the table to reach him, and she found that the smooth edge digging into her stomach made it slightly painful to take breaths. She didn’t complain, she wouldn’t complain. It just wasn’t worth it. “Ah… I really do work for a pawn shop-”

“Did you not just listen to anything I said?”

The glint of malicious intent in his eyes grew larger, and so she hurried along with her explanation, “Hear me out - legally, on paper, I am a 24-hour consultant for this pawn shop. That’s how I do my income tax returns and shit. What I really do is… Uh… I steal expensive things from nice stores, and take them home.” Jerome stared at her in disbelief, and she took it as a sign to continue. “I go into the store a month or so beforehand to check for security cameras and exits and so-on - I was actually doing that when you… So kindly kidnapped me. I go back later, finesse the employees a little, and take home the goods.”

He blinked, still not believing what she said, but inveritably entertained by the idea. “And…?”

She swallowed. “I bag up what I stole, and stick it in envelopes to send to the pawn shop. What I send them is usually jewelry, so the wife disassembles it, keeps the stones, and liquidates the metals. They mail me checks every week, and again, strictly on paper this-” [Y/N] stiffly gestures with her free hand to the apartment around her, “Is the type of life that I can afford to live. The rest of the money finds its way here eventually. One of their friends is a mailman, so he usually delivers it by hand. It all works out pretty conveniently.”

“Why have money if you can’t spend it? Ya’ got it buried in the community garden or something?”

“Insurance? Greed? I don’t know. I’m actually working with another one my friends on that - she keeps a lot of my money for me, ‘cause she’s one of those rich-y types - I was planning on moving up in the world in a few months time…” She replied, watching her hand blanch from the lack of blood flow. He didn’t respond immediately, and the back of her neck began to sweat.

Finally, after what felt like years and years of waiting, the terrorist burst into a horrible peal of laughter, going so far as to release her arm in favor of falling the fuck out of his chair. She watched him cackle on the floor for at least a good two minutes before he snapped out of whatever psychotic trance he was in, rolling back onto his feet to sit at the table once more.

“I’m gonna be honest, babe, I was a little worried that you were going to be a real snooze-fest, but I think we’re going to get along just fine,” He reassured, only serving to make her more uncomfortable.

She didn’t know if it was worse to be ‘friends’ with the man who tore Gotham apart, or to be his enemy - either way, she was his victim.

Later, [Y/N] found herself sitting on the floor of her bathroom while Jerome used the shower. Just a few minutes beforehand, he’d taken the time to break her landline phone in half, and confiscate her cell phone, as well as several burner phones. He’d only been in her house for a little over two hours, and she had no idea where he could have possibly hidden her things. The man had then insisted that she not leave the room he was in so that she couldn’t do something productive - like run for her life, call for help, roll a joint, or knit a sweater.

In the meantime, the hostage woman read an old fashion magazine, and Jerome rattled her ears off.

“‘Strawberry Sunset’, huh? Ya’ know - I always thought girly products smelled better than men’s,” He rambled, a squashing sound following his words as he wasted her bathroom goods.

[Y/N] deadpanned back to him, “Be sure to rinse and repeat.”

The redhead made a noise of deliberation before he spoke again, “Does that shit really work? Isn’t it just a ploy to get people to buy more soap goo?”

“Nope,” She responded, popping the ‘p’, “First wash breaks down the dirt, second takes the debris out. Don’t believe me? It’ll lather more the second time.”

A few minutes passed by before the murderer let out a short shriek of laughter, “I’ll be damned! You’re right!”

Too busy rubbing her bruised head that she earned when his outburst startled her, [Y/N] could only manage to comment, “Conditioner should be left on for at least three minutes before a rinse.”

He poked his head out from behind the curtain, scarred lips pulled into a mirthful grin, “Thanks, babe. Maybe you should come in here and help me wash up. Whaddaya say?”

She immediately shriveled, clutching her magazine tighter as she stared at him. “Uh… No, thank you. I think I’ll have a shower after you.”

After a little wink, he pulled his head back behind the curtain. “And what am I supposed to do to entertain myself while you shower…?”

The woman cringed. “I don’t know - when you get out, I’ll get in. I’ll hurry, I promise.”

He chuckled darkly, coughing a few times. “Don’t sweat it, chica - I’ll spend a while smelling the rest of your girl-products, so you’ve got a few minutes before I get bored and start breaking shit.”

[Y/N] made a grunt of acknowledgement, looking up from her magazine a few moments later to see that Jerome had abruptly stepped out of the bathtub - completely nude.

“Oh - GOD, dude, you couldn’t have given me a little warning?” She shrieked, averting her gaze to hastily dig for a towel in the cubby behind her. With a timid, but urgent hand, the linen was held out to him, her eyelids cinched shut.

Jerome giggled the entire time he dried off, only stopping once to give his captive a long, pointed stare. “You got virgin eyes, or something?”

The woman ground her teeth together, “No - I just don’t get up in the morning hoping that some murderer will show me his cock.”

“C’mon, what’s a little nudity amongst friends?” He crooned, taking great care in going through her personal soaps and lotions, “Speaking of which, you might wanna strip now if you expect to have a shower tonight. I’d be glad to pull you out of there naked if you take too long.”

She still hadn’t opened her eyes, but reluctantly shucked off her clothing, jumping into the tub before he could so much as glance at her body. What followed was possibly the fastest washing she’d ever done - totalling about two minutes - as well as the quickest drying she’d ever done. When she was securely wrapped in a towel, she found that the redhead was unabashedly using her toothbrush.

[Y/N] didn’t even blink at his rudeness, opening up the bathroom cabinet and ripping a new brush straight from the package. If she was going to be slaughtered anyways, she’d make sure he wouldn’t have half as much fun as he hoped he would.

Jerome then turned to burn his old clothes in her kitchen sink, watching with glee as the ashes were swallowed by the drain. “It’s a new, new, new beginning for me, toots.”

Feeling horribly pessimistic, the hostage frowned, eyeing the fresh garments he’d borrowed from the things old flames had left her - a pair of weathered boxers and a large, dark-green t-shirt. He’d egged her on about it, wondering if she had a ‘ball-and-chain’ and if she knew they’d have to die. “More like the beginning of the end, for me,” She grumbled.

“Ah, but a beginning nonetheless!” The man exclaimed, shutting off the faucet so hard the handles nearly came loose, “Now - there any beds around here, babe?”

Her grimace deepened. Babe. She hoped he choked to death in his sleep. “My room is right over there. I suppose you won’t be staying on the couch?”

Jerome raised his eyebrows at her pointedly. “Do I look like the kinda guy that crashes on my victim’s couch?”

She didn’t reply, turning towards her futon. “I’ll take the couch, then.”

His voice called out from her bedroom, “Ah, ah, ah! You know I can’t leave you unattended out there, sweet cheeks.”

[Y/N] grew endlessly more frustrated, “Alright, awesome! I’ll just pass out on the fucking floor over here, then!” In a fit of uncontained rage, she stormed past the redhead, tearing a blanket off her bed and collapsing in a heap by the window.

No sooner than her body had hit the ground, a fist snaked its way into her hair, wrenching her half-upright. He growled in her ear, dragging the woman towards her own bed, “Listen, honey, it’s been over a year since I’ve slept in a bed this nice - let alone with a woman. So you’re going to lay here and keep your mouth shut, if you know what’s good for you.” Haphazardly, the criminal tossed her onto the mattress, climbing in after her. Bemused, he watched as she sunk beneath the covers, teetering on the very edge so as to avoid being near him.

A low groan exited her lips as she felt a large hand close around her upper arm, pulling her against the murderer behind her. She didn’t protest, didn’t complain, she only buried her face in her hands, breathing shallowly. What the fuck was going on? His arms snaked around her middle, his face in the crook of her neck. Minutes passed, and her shock continued to wear off - there was no getting out of this situation, was there? [Y/N] was going to be gutted and stuffed down her shower drain, or at the very least strung up by her intestines.

The minutes blended together, and over an hour later, she found herself still lying wide-awake against his snoozing form. But Jerome wasn’t really snoozing, was he? Everytime she shifted, everytime she shivered, every time she whimpered - he would tighten his hold around her ribcage, or would grumble unfriendly things against her skin.

After another half-hour of fidgeting, the redhead grew tired of her constant movement. “You’re not going to fall asleep, are you?” He deadpanned, slowly reaching to grab both of the female’s wrists in one hand, “If you insist on being difficult, I guess I’ll be difficult, too.”

Fingers wrapped around her throat, squeezing until she could only take the most uselessly tiny breaths. Jerome had rolled onto her just slightly, trapping her legs beneath his body. There didn’t appear to be any real leverage in struggling.

Rhythmically, he would tighten and loosen his grip, allowing her the precious fragments of air that she needed to stay alive. Tears bowled down her cheeks as she gasped and spluttered, only getting faux-comforting hushes from the man in her bed. It took just a few minutes before her body got tired of fighting, and she succumbed to the darkness that surrounded her.

Two weeks later, and she was having an incredibly hard time keeping the terrorist entertained. At first, violent books and movies kept him sated - so long as she provided him with a healthy dose of alcohol to wash down the fictional atrocities. Then it progressed to board games and card games, most of which he won. Finally, she reached a point where the only things that held his attention were pain games.

Who can stand under the steaming spray of water the longest? How about sitting in an ice bath? Who can hold their breath the longest? Who can sit upside down the longest? Who can eat more spicy foods without needing water? Who can do the most push ups? Sit ups? Jumping jacks? The longest plank? The longest wall sit? The most 5-pound reps? How about we just hold our arms up for as long as possible?

The most recent, taxing, and upsetting game he’d come up with was a game of chance. Jerome and [Y/N] would play ‘War’, each laying down a card to see who had the highest number, and the winner would get to clamp a clothespin on the other person’s skin - wherever they pleased.

Neither of the pair seemed to be winning, each having an array of pins stuck to themselves, but the murderer didn’t appear to mind the constant, stinging pains as much as the thief did.

“Fuck,” She groaned, resisting the urge to rip off the clothespin that her opponent had just attached to her nostril, “I think I need to be done with this game for right now. It’s about dinner time - you hungry?” Carefully, she pulled her skin free from the jaws that pinched her so tightly, and rose from her seat.

Jerome sighed, taking the idle time to stick more pins to himself, but didn’t object to [Y/N]’s request to stop their little game. While she looked in the pantry for something to cook, the sadistic wheels in his head started turning. “I was getting kinda bored with that game anyways…” He grumbled, putting the clothespins in a pile on the table. Glancing around the room, he tried to find a new source of entertainment. As he watched her figure flit about the floorboards, all of the gears finally clicked into place. “Forget about dinner for now,” He commanded, starting to dig through her cupboards and drawers, “You got any duct tape?”

The woman furrowed her eyebrows, setting a saucepan down on the counter, “Yeah, it’s somewhere around here. What do you need that for?” She started towards her bedroom, wondering if she’d left the tape in another area of the house. As she rummaged around in her closet, she could still hear the murderer humming to himself in the other room.

A snicker crept its way from between his lips, and he called out towards his captive, “Hey - you said you weren’t a virgin, right?”

[Y/N] clammed up both physically and verbally, silently pulling her body from the bulk of clothes and coat hangers that existed in her closet. She didn’t bother trying to reply, a shudder running up her spine and back down. His cackles seemed to exist in surround sound, coming from every corner of the apartment. Jerome’s laughter slowed, deepened, until his voice practically vibrated the walls around her. Her hand crept up towards her mouth, and she grasped the handle of a locationally useless fire-poker with her free appendage.

“I bet you scream like one.”

Immediately, she jumped into action, slamming her bedroom door shut before he could get any closer. [Y/N] had already been preparing for the day that he’d get bored with mundane, everyday interactions and start reaching for her panties. She’d gotten the inkling that he was interested in sex when he started rubbing his morning wood along her backside, finding release against her prone, sleepy body. An even bigger tip-off was when he promptly offered to clean out her coochie with his ‘magic stain stick’.

With the lock in place, she scrambled to shove heavy objects in front of the door - her dresser, a chest of linens, an antique vanity - anything to slow his advance to her pants. The hostage knew it was inevitable, but she figured that the noise he made trying to break in would perhaps alert the neighbors, if they cared at all. She pushed her bed against the wall, crawling beneath it with the fire-poker still tightly grasped in a shaky fist. Three solid knocks followed a grumble of frustration as Jerome jiggling the door handle. She cowered in anticipation, shrinking to the farthest corner of her bed as he tried to get in.

“Alright… I’ll make this a little challenge to myself, [Y/N],” He started, his voice scratchy and somewhat annoyed, “If I can’t get this door open within two minutes, I won’t totally fuck you senseless.”

God, why do you hate me? The woman inwardly groaned, her eyes rolling so far backwards she could she her own ass. About 30 seconds passed by while the criminal in the other room rattled around with the doorknob. She was beginning to feel hopeful when she heard the shrill ring of a power drill echoing back into her ears. Moments later, there was a heavy thud against her floorboards.

He cracked open the door, sticking his head through to peer around the bedroom. “I’d say something classic like ‘Here’s Johnny!’, but my name doesn’t end with quite the right sound for that, ya’ know?” Jerome quipped, using a single hard push to completely negate the barricade she’d set up, “Also - is there really any use in hiding in here? You’re either in the closet, or you’re under the bed. I already know you’re under the bed, but I’ll check the closet first if it’ll make you feel better.”

[Y/N] cringed at his words, already feeling embarrassed as he looked around her linens, feigning surprise that his captive wasn’t tucked between the laundry. Her whole body quivered as he stepped to the bed, a jaunty whistle on his lips.

The man stooped down, about to peek behind the hanging sheet, when something else caught his attention. “Hm? And what might this be?” He queried, his hand diving towards a drawer that sat nestled in the upper left corner of her bed, “I know for a fact that I’ve snooped through all of your shit at least twice now, and I don’t think I’ve ever seen this little treasure chest.”

This. This was the worst possible thing that could have happened in this situation. Her bed had been carefully positioned against her nightstand for months now, hiding her little drawer of toys from prying eyes. In her haste, she’d completely forgotten that they’d been there. It wasn’t as if she’d had time to rub one out while Jerome was taking up space in her apartment. As she settled a palm over her face, she heard the drawer open.

“Oh, shit, babe, and here I was thinkin’ that you were a prude!” He exclaimed, rummaging unabashedly through her sex toys. After several moments of rude comments and cackling, a new sound entered the room around them. Vibrating. “Oh-ho-ho… [Y/N], you are exactly the type of freak I need.”

Holy fucking shit. The woman hardly had time to get that thought out before a hand wrapped around her ankle, dragging her from under the bed. She squealed, feeling the skin of her knees begin to burn as they were pulled across a throw rug. Immediately, she grasped onto his calves, dragging him down to the floor with her. Their limbs tangled together, each person fighting for dominance. Frantic fingers grasped for the iron poker that she’d dropped in her panic, quickly maneuvering it back into grip.

Woosh. SMACK!

From her unfortunate place beneath him, [Y/N] took a swing at Jerome, only to find that her much longer weapon had simply collided with the vibrating dildo that he’d pulled from her stash.

“Eh… En garde?” The criminal teased, nearly choking on his own laughter. He reactivated the vibrations, setting them to full speed, and the waves passed easily through the poker. She dropped it almost immediately onto her chest, too stunned to react in the appropriate life-or-death manner. This time, he reached it first, his hand wrapped close to the sharp end as he pointed it at her throat. The vibrations quieted.

The woman was tired. Tired of his antics, of his bullshit, of his jokes, of his lustful gaze drinking in her form. “Didn’t know you were a necrophiliac, ‘Romey. How about we get this over with? We had a good run.”

He scoffed, practically spitting in her face as he did so. Jerome sat upright, letting all his weight rest on her hip bones as he tossed the iron object behind him. “Necrophilia? What’s the fun in fuckin’ a dead body, baby? Wasn’t planning on that,” He chuckled, like the whole situation was no big deal.

“Well, you’re not fuckin’ me, so make a decision. Death or roommates?” [Y/N] deadpanned, laying limp beneath his body, her arms lazily at her sides.

“Aw, babe. Isn’t there anything I can do to convince you?” He swooned, leaning back down to her level, shifting his weight to his knees. A hand snaked down between her thighs, resting a thick, purple toy lightly against her pajama-clothed core.

She didn’t appear to notice, staring directly at the ceiling as if to avoid his presence. “Uh-uh. Nope. Notta.”

“Is there anything I can do to make you,” He breathed, turning the violet vibrator on, feeling it resonate through her garments, “Reconsider…?”

Almost immediately, she shivered and writhed beneath him, the machinations being directly on her clitoris felt borderline uncomfortable. “Ah - ah - I don’t know about that, this is already a little much - shit!” [Y/N] felt him shift the toy just slightly upwards, taking the powerful waves of pleasure just a touch away from the bundle of nerves.

She practically melted into the floorboards the both of them were laying on, she was so horny. Jerome started to giggle at her embarrassing little feat of desperation, and watched as her face went between anger and ecstasy. “You’re kind of a whore, you know that?” He asked nonchalantly, rolling the dildo around her core as she hissed and cursed at him, “What, with all these toys - you probably get around, don’t you?”

The woman tried to stifle her gasps and moments of breathlessness, but they were apparent even on her face as he worked her clit like he’d done it a million times before. Still, she managed a grimace, an unimpressed glare. “Don’t need to get around when I’ve got that drawer stocked full. Also - it’s none of your business!”

“Oh, but I think it is,” He purred, setting the toy aside to let his fingers peel back her pants, “C’mon, how many guys? Two? Twelve? Twelve-hundred?”

She gave him a cheeky smile, pulled her legs towards her body to stop him from getting her clothes all the way off. “Guys? Honey, it’s mostly girls. I didn’t take you for a terrorist and a homophobe!”

Jerome rolled his eyes, “You know what I meant.” He fumbled with the waist of her pants, hardly able to get them past her hipbones. She wiggled and folded her figure like a wet noodle, endlessly slipping from his strong hands. “I’m beginning to think that killing you would be more fun…”

[Y/N] cackled, having reached a certain point of mania that had been boiling in her system ever since she’d become a prisoner in her own home. “The more you squeeze, the more it slips away, ‘Romey-o!” She wrapped her arms around her knees in a vice-like grip, curled into an unbreakable fetal position, still giggling, still wiggling.

Now laughing too, to the point of snorting, Jerome abandoned his attempts to remove her clothing and shucked off his own, bearing his entirely naked self to the woman beneath him.

She choked on her chuckles, the sight of his hard cock against his stomach was almost enough to snap her out of her manic episode. Still, she remained wrapped in herself, intent on making the next several minutes as difficult as possible for him. What a schmuck! Did he think the sight of his dick would be hypnotizing? She’d seen some that were just as big, and used silicone ones that were definitely bigger. This thought make her break out into another fit of giggles.

Normally he’d be howling along with someone so deep in hysteria, but the notion that she was laughing at his manhood was emasculating. A scowl painted across his face, and he took ahold of her t-shirt, yanking her upright until they both sat face-to-face, one of them much more jovial than the other.

“Listen, I know funny. What’s so fucking funny right now?” He growled, the muscles in his arms twitching with fury.

Still, tears of pure hilarity leaked from her eyes, her laughs now so tiring that they were dead silent. Small gasps went into and out of her system, but she struggled out a sentence, “Ha… Ha… Oh my god, you’re insane! You’re absolutely nuts! By the way, you’ve got some big ones!” [Y/N] broke into another peal of laughter, not even blinking when the man before her started shaking her senseless.

After this went on until she was too dizzy to laugh anymore, Jerome felt the gears in his head begin to click, “You’re not too sane yourself, you cheeky bitch.” He pulled her closer, “Now take off your clothes.”

She weakly began to take off her shirt, still trying to catch her breath by the time she got to her bra. The man that had suddenly become so aggressive had already torn her pants and underwear off, waiting impatiently to see her luscious, bare breasts - as if he hadn’t seen her naked already.

Without a word of want or warning, Jerome ran his hand through her hair, snagging a large knot of it between his fingers. He stood up in front of her, pulled her locks backwards as he forced his balls into her mouth, crushing her nose against his pubis.

She immediately began to choke and splutter, pushing on his thighs as if the woman could ever match him in strength. [Y/N] glanced up at him through teary eyes, only getting tiny sniffs of breath as she struggled to get away from the redhead.

“Hey, c’mon, baby,” He hushed, pressing her harder still against his crotch, “You were saying how much you liked my giant balls, weren’t you? I thought you’d enjoy a little taste.” A fit of cackling wracked through his body, allowing just a few moments of air before he shoved her closer once again, eyeing the copious amounts of drool that dribbled down her chin. “While you’re there, though, why don’t you do me a favor and give me a little oral massage?”

All she could do was grimace at him as she rolled her tongue over his hairy nutsack, hollowing out her cheeks just slightly.

A few curse words flung from his lips, followed by more unwarranted teasing, “That just feels so damn good, sweetcheeks. Carrying around these heavy, huge balls all day is tiring. I’m so glad you care, but we’ve got bigger problems here.” Jerome suddenly released her from his grasp, watching her sink farther to her knees as heaved and wiped at her face.

No sooner than she had been let go, a light smack on her cheek jolted her out of the air-desperate haze she’d been in. Glancing up at him, [Y/N] was disappointed to see his hand wrapped around his cock. She noticed the precum leaking from its tip, and felt a bit of thick, creamy residue on the side of her face. Opening her mouth with disbelief, she made a move to accuse him, “Did you just hit me in the fucking face with your fucking ugly dic-”

He took the opportunity to shove his length down her throat, not bothering to let her finish her sentence. In fact, Jerome could hardly be bothered with her immediate satisfaction at all. What he really cared about was getting an ‘A+’ blowjob, complete with a gold star. “If this goes well,” He paused, adjusting her so his cock could reach further back in her throat, “Maybe I’ll give you a little treat.”

[Y/N] grumbled around his manhood, almost daring to drag her teeth along his length, but out of simple fright, she kept the reins on herself tight.

“If this goes really well, you’ll get two treats! One of them you’ll have to swallow to enjoy,” He giggling before breaking out into a coughing fit, jostling the woman around as he moved. The redhead laughed harder when she started gagging, giving him a stern glare. Jerome heard her mumble something unintelligible around his cock, eliciting a deep groan from his chest as he felt his balls draw upwards. “Shit, I’ve needed this for about two years now, did you know that?”

She didn’t, having never asked him when the last time some girl had her lips wrapped around his penis while they were held hostage in their own home. About to mumble another sarcastic reply, she was greeted by a shocking wave of seed spilling down her throat, completely cutting off her air as he dug deeper to make sure she had no choice but to swallow. Several seconds passed by before she felt his grip on her hair loosen, and she [Y/N] immediately pulled away, coughing, heaving, and drooling all over the floor. A moan came from behind her, and she watched as his eyes rolled back in post-orgasm bliss, feeling incredibly grumpy (but also turned on) by his attitude. Where was her orgasm? That felt like the question of the century.

Finally, he snapped back into action, hardly needing any time to recover, though his dick was soft now. “Alrighty, that was excellent - now, I was supposed to give you a treat, but guess what?” Jerome exclaimed, gesturing wildly with his hands, “I’m not hard anymore! So you’ll have to wait awhile, and I’ll go watch some porn-on-demand? You okay with that?”

She opened her mouth to express how offended she was by the offer, but was interrupted, as she usually was when dealing with him.

“Don’t answer that, I don’t care,” He dismissed, turning around to grab something off of the dresser that still stood in front of her door, displaced by the shove it had taken to break the barricade. When he turned back around, a roll of duct tape was in his hands, and he yanked a long length of it off, using his teeth to cut through the adhesive.

[Y/N] had just gotten herself off the floor when she noticed his advancements, and she hurriedly stumbled backwards to avoid his grasp, once again reaching for the fire-poker to defend herself. Unfortunately, he was too fast, she was too light-headed, and the room was too small to find any source of real escape.

So they were pressed together, naked as they were before, but the roll of duct tape was empty, and the woman was in a tight predicament. She tried to scream through the tape on her mouth, muffled both by the numerous lengths he’d wrapped around her head, and by the used panties stuffed in between her cheeks. Her hands were tightly bound together, and then folded closed until they looked like little stubs at the ends of her forearms. Lower on her body, [Y/N]’s feet shared the same fate, leaving her unable to walk even single steps, or stand whatsoever. After all that work and tape, Jerome had still taken the time to bind her knees and elbows, leaving her halfway mummified and incredibly pissed off.

“Now, I go watch porn, and you can… Roll around like a baby, or take a nap! Either way, you’d still be my helpless, pathetic lady-captive - and you will be for an indefinite amount of time,” He watched her struggle and beg from behind locked lips, and after a moment of thought, he gave in, “Fine, if you wanna be difficult, I’ve got a couple strips of tape left.”

Without hesitation, she shook her head adamantly, watching him grab a few smaller strips of adhesive to do… Whatever the hell he was going to do. He ambled behind her bound form, and she could hear him rummage through her little drawer once more. She began to sweat, using her knees and elbows to try and crawl away from his malicious fingers.

Like a slithering, slimy snake, he was quick and nimble to grab her taped feet, dragging her against the carpet like he’d done before. In just seconds, he had two bullet vibrators stuffed between her pussy lips, and one in her puckered ass, the wires streaming out from within her body, holes both covered with the last of the tape. He wiped his hands together to congratulate himself for the job well done, and gave her sides a little tickle before he strode back to the door. “Hope you’re more comfortable, now, chica, I’ll check on you later!”

Before she could mutely protest, Jerome had shut the door behind him, leaving her to suffer on her bedroom floor. She breathed heavily through her nose, the vibrators making her inner walls flutter and clench. [Y/N] cringed against the sensations, angry with herself for even owning sex toys at this point. She should’ve just gotten a date to take care of her troubles - not that it was a good idea either, considering they would be dead by now.

There was hope, though, and she wasted much energy trying to achieve that little glimmer of promise. The moisture that naturally came from her mouth and nose should loosen the tape around her mouth, and eventually, when she can spit out her panties, she’d be able to… Basically beg him to let her out. It was the only alternative, her hands, feet, and everything else were completely useless.

Several minutes passed, then several more, then several more. She tongued at and licked around her lips, poking at the tape from behind. Eventually, with much relief, she found success. With the tape still clinging to her head, she spat out her underwear, and crawled over to the door, banging on it weakly with her stubby hands. “Jerome! Let me the fuck out of this room right now! I’m warning you! I may be tiny, but I’m pissed and horny, so I’ll at least draw some blood.”

Silence.

She pressed her ear to the door. The TV could be faintly heard, but little else. Shit. Had he left the apartment? Had he left her, tied up, on the floor, with no one to save her? Was she going to starve to death with her cunt and ass plugged?

Finally, she heard a noise. It was the sound of him smacking the door right where her face was, making her fall away from required listening position.

“Listen, sweetcheeks, it’s almost been an hour. I’ll let you in on a little secret, I’ve been rock hard since I closed up your little holes - I just like knowing that you’re suffering on my account,” He admitted, tapping his fingers absently on the door panels, “And the threats certainly aren’t doing you any favors. I might leave you in there for a few more hours, see how you’re feeling then.” Jerome made a huge effort in making his footsteps audible, so she’d know he’d walked away.

Close to tears with frustration, she called out again, “Jerome - please, no. What can I do for you to let me out?”

His footsteps stopped, then reversed, and he tried to conceal his giggles of excitement as he ground out, “What are you willing to offer?”

This was a trap. She knew what he wanted her to say, and she knew she’d say it. The pulsing between her legs was too much, her body ached, and quite frankly, she needed to take a piss pretty badly. With a sigh, she replied, “Anything, Jerome, what do you want? I’ll give anything.”

A deep, unsettling chuckle vibrated up through his body, and he leaned closer to the door so she could properly feel the ice in his voice. “I want everything, baby. Are you willing to give it to me?”

[Y/N] blanched. It’s a trap. It’s a trap. He’s going to do something fucked up to her, and she was completely aware - maybe a little intrigued, as well. Defeated, she whispered, “Yeah… Yeah, I’ll give you everything.”

“What was that?”

More forceful, now, she repeated herself, “I said I’ll give you everything.”

“One more time?”

“Everything, Jerome, if I can give it, you can take it from me.” She shut her eyes, slowly relaxing her prone body to the floorboards once again.

“That’s all I needed to hear.”

-

I didn’t proofread the sexy part of this, sorry. Wanted to get this late, late, late post out to you guys. Lemme know if you’d wanna see more! - writersindigestion

[theresnosafeharbor4myships]

December 7, Christmas Caryl

the 2nd and final part of Christmas Vibrations (1st part here; also on 9L)

Christmas Vibrations - Part 2

Daryl slowly turned back to the room, his gaze landing on Carol standing just inside the front door. Her big blue eyes traveled from him to Rick to Michonne and back to him before her pleased smile slowly slid from her face.

She’d had watch duty since early that morning, but she looked rested. A black jacket hung over a cream colored shirt and black cargo pants, and, like always, her slim figure, her lightly curled hair, her mesmerizing eyes, her enchanting smile—her very presence—sent his heart racing.

“A present,” Rick mimicked.

“For you,” Michonne iterated.

Carol gave the three statues in the room a quizzical look.

And in that second, Daryl caught on to Rick and Michonne’s magician’s trick: he’d chased a faux sex toy while Rick had wrapped the things he’d been prepared to give Carol before he realized what a fool they’d made of him.

Now there they stood, like deer caught in his headlights. And he wanted nothing more than to make them road kill, even if doing so wouldn’t help him get out of this predicament.

Like a bolt of lightening had struck them, Rick and Michonne jumped into action. “Our work here is done,” Michonne muttered, hurriedly gathering up the gift wrap and bags, while Rick held open the box they’d brought it over in.

“We’ll…just be going,” Rick assured them, a stiff, awkward half-smile on his face.

Carol felt the tension in the room, watched Rick and Michonne shuffle and trip over themselves trying to leave in a furious hurry, sensed Daryl’s discomfort and unhappiness from across the room.

What had happened here?

“We got everything,” Rick stated unnecessarily as he nearly pushed Michonne, who’d taken the large box full of Christmas wrappings from him, towards the door. He looked pointedly at Daryl, both an apology and amusement written on his face. “Here’s your gift. Carol’s gift. Your gift to Carol,” he kept correcting himself as he tapped the gift sitting in the center of the table. His eyes moved from a livid and horrified Daryl to a bemused and confused Carol.

Sure that with Carol standing by Daryl wouldn’t tip off what they’d done, Rick and Michonne slipped by Carol, shit-eating grins on their faces and strangely pleasant goodbyes on their lips.

The door closed behind them, and with the circus gone, an awkward silence settled in.  

She waited for Daryl to say something, but he stood forlornly near the stairs, dejectedly holding a limp bag in his hand. He wouldn’t even look at her.

What had those two done to him?

“So…” she began cheerfully, but couldn’t think of a single thing to say.

Tension sat heavy in the air, and she had no idea what had caused it or even what mood Daryl stewed in. He usually warmed in her presence, gravitated towards her, let the scowl ease away from his face, relaxed when she stood near, and often stared at her when he thought her preoccupied. But he remained rigid and aloof, almost ignoring her, and inexplicably looking more uncomfortable now that Rick and Michonne had left than he had when she’d barged into the house.

Something had set him out of sorts. And she wanted to know what.  

She glanced around the house for clues as to what had transpired, but the present sitting on the table remained the only thing out of the ordinary.

She inched toward the table, a curious smile on her face. “You got a present for me, huh?”

Daryl’s eyes whipped up to hers, startled and horrified and embarrassed all at once.

“What is it?” she asked, the pleasantries draining away. “A ticking time bomb?”

He huffed a breath. She didn’t know how close to the truth that was, and he wasn’t about to tell her. “Ain’t that,” he managed to say in a strangled tone.

She nodded, though he didn’t see because he still found the ground more entertaining than her. “What were those two up to, anyway?”

Daryl shook his head, not wanting to detail the fiasco that had just occurred and hoping she’d let it go. “Was nuthin’. They just know how to get on my last nerve.”

“Mmmm, I’m familiar with that particular gift of theirs.” She gave him a knowing smirk, but he didn’t even notice.

“Sooo…that gift sitting over there…can I open it?”

Her childlike joy made him want to say yes, but remembering what lay inside had him cringing. “Rick and ‘Chonne just…lemme just re-wrap it,” he stalled, dropping the bag and shuffling towards her in a manner she’d never seen before.

He moved to the table, but she got there first and slid the haphazardly-wrapped gift from the center to the edge. “I don’t care about that,” she brushed him off. “I wasn’t expecting anything!”

Her exuberance left Daryl on pins and needles. He couldn’t think of a single way to extract the gift from her without just snatching it out of her hands and running off with it. And he seriously considered it.

What a damn mess his so-called ‘friends’ had left him in!

Carol pulled out the chair in front of her and plopped down at the table, setting the gift in front of her. She looked up at him, expectant and excited with her eyebrows raised and a smile on her face. “Can I open it?”

“Like a kid, ain’t ya?” he chuckled, despite himself. What could he possibly say to get out of this?

She dragged the chair next to her out from under the table and waited impatiently for him to sit.

Numbly, he sat, afraid to move or breath or live the next few moments as she anticipated her gift from him, while thoughts of shock, horror, and a solid slap across his face was all he could foresee. And likely her not speaking to him for…weeks? months? It was hard to say.

The fact that no one else stood around watching this debacle unfold was his only saving grace.

Carol’s expression turned from excitement to concern, and he realized he’d continued staring dumbly as his thoughts raced around in flight mode.

He swallowed hard, but no words came out, and he suddenly began praying the Earth would split open and swallow him into the abyss before she had a chance to see what lay inside.

“I’m going to take that as a yes?” she queried, confounded by his behavior.

When he didn’t object or move, and since his eyes held fast to the gift in her hands, she took off the bow and began removing the paper.

A dainty pair of hoop earrings fell into her hand, and she held them up in wonder, noting the intricate, braided pattern of them. She’d forgotten what it felt like to receive jewelry from a man—and how he’d found a pair of new earrings in this fallen world she’d never know.

“Daryl, they’re beautiful,” she breathed, her eyes seeking his. But still he wouldn’t look at her, instead staring despondently at her hands.

He heard her but couldn’t respond, his heart seized with trepidation. Now that she’d started opening the gift, he just wanted this done with. The anxiety bubbling inside felt worse than any consequence she’d make him pay.

She reached over and squeezed his forearm in gratitude, then continued opening the gift.

Two small boxes of lavender soap emerged. And still scented, she noted with a sniff. “My favorite. Wherever did you find these things?”

Finally his eyes met hers, and the smile eased away from her face. “What is it? What’s wrong?” she asked gently.

He shook his head and swallowed hard, just wanting the moment to end so he could suffer his humiliation and punishment in solitude.

A look of consternation crossed her face, but she removed the rest of the wrapping paper and stared down at the box in her hand.

The seconds felt like eons to Daryl as he waited for her castigation. Silence, disgust, fury, offense, embarrassment, he imagined it going any number of ways.

But her laughing certainly hadn’t been one of them.

Mortified and ashamed, he allowed her mocking laugh to wash over him, adding to the Rick and Michonne soundtrack that had begun playing in his head the moment he realized his ignorance had outted him.

“Never thought I’d see one of these again.”

Stunned, Daryl raised his gaze to hers, eyes wide.

“What? You didn’t think I survived all those years…well, nevermind,” she trailed off, noting Daryl’s discomfort. “I…thank you.”

She sounded genuinely grateful, if amused, but Daryl still couldn’t move. She wasn’t pissed? Offended? Appalled? Didn’t hate him? He was afraid to breathe for fear he’d wake up from this overwhelming and unexpected sense of relief.

Realizing the conversations that must have taken place before she arrived, Carol understood Daryl’s hesitation—his fear, even—of the moment. “Did…Rick and Michonne…” How should she ask this? Suggest it as a gift? Make fun of you for it? She finally settled with a gentle, “Are you ever going to look at me?”

Daryl haltingly, fearfully, met her gaze, surprised to find a gentle, sweet smile on her face. No anger, no disgust. Not even a hint of mocking or ridicule like the two hyenas who’d dropped him into this situation. Just Carol being…Carol.

“Are you okay?”

Her voice came softly, unsure but concerned, and he nodded once before standing abruptly and exploding an explanation. “I would be if those two assholes woulda kept their shit to themselves. I’d done just fine getting’ you a Christmas present. Thought you’d like the earrings and soap, but then ‘Chonne had ta go and offer up that damn ‘massager.’”

He mocked the word in a strange voice that sounded nothing like Michonne, and it took all of Carol’s willpower not to burst out laughing. Daryl paced around, spewing the story he’d so valiantly hid for the past ten minutes, face pink with embarrassment, arms animatedly jerking around to emphasize his story. Whatever had happened, he’d retreated inside himself; this frustration was better than holding it in, so she’d hold her peace until he finished.

“Like a damn fool, I believed her. Ain’t never seen one like that before, and I didn’t pay that much attention…just took her at her word. Bet her and Rick had a grand time laughing at me. Bet that’s why they offered ta come over here to do wrappin’. She probly told him what’d happened and he didn’t believe her ‘n wanted ta check it out himself. Then they started playin’ around and…oh, never mind.” He finally stopped pacing and stood, hands on his hips, staring at the ground. “I wasn’t gonna…” He sighed. “Never wanted ta make you…uncomfortable, an’ I’m sorry. We can just forget the whole thing ever happened.”

Carol waited a moment to make sure he’d finished his rant before standing, the gift in question in hand, and sidling up next to him. Placing one hand on his bicep, she quietly asked, “You’ve never seen one like this before?”

That’s all she took away from his explanation?

His face flamed at the candid question, but his wary eyes briefly met hers. “Is this payback?” he asked brokenly. “I never meant…I wasn’t gonna give it to you…”

She wanted to maime Rick and Michonne for making him feel this way. Years had passed since she’d seen this wounded, insecure Daryl, and her heart ached. But if things worked out the way she hoped, she also wanted to throw her arms around them in gratitude.

“You wouldn’t give it to me?”

Daryl heard Michonne’s joke in Carol’s voice, and his throat tightened, nearly choking off his air supply. Like so many times before, he played the butt of the joke. Only this time—because it was Carol—it sliced deep and true, straight through to his heart.

Carol leaned in closer, and he prepared for her disparaging words.

“What if I wanted you to?”

He thought he’d imagined her whispered words, but no other sound followed. Terrified to move, he dared a look at her, this woman who could both mend and break him.

Eyes bright with mischief and something akin to uncertainty stared back at him. She stood so close, her exhaled breath puffing against his upper arm, her lips slightly upturned with a hesitant smile.

“I…” He formed the single word only, his breath stuck in his lungs, his body tense and unmoving, his mind focused on the sweetly seductive woman before him as she inched ever so slowly closer to him. Her hand slid up from his arm, over his shoulder, and into his hair, then eased him, her willing captive, down towards her.

He felt frozen and a raging inferno at the same time, his eyes trapped by hers until her gaze slipped down to his lips. He couldn’t move, couldn’t think, couldn’t believe what was happening, but when her lips pressed against his, he melted into her. With a moan he couldn’t be sure came from him, he set his hands on her hips, afraid to pull her closer, afraid she’d move away. He let her kiss him, moving at her snail’s pace as she teased his lips and ran her tantalizing fingers against his scalp.

“I want you to,” she mumbled against his lips.

It took several moments for him to realize what she’d said and to track the conversation back to what she meant. How she could form coherent thoughts he didn’t know, but he’d agree to almost anything with her pressed against him.

“If you want to…?”

She let the sentence hang as she eased away from him, his hungry eyes following her mouth until he realized she wasn’t returning.

“Do you?”

Her question roused him from his Carol-kissed stupor, though he had no idea what she was talking about.

He’d loved her for so long. Since the prison, maybe the farm. On nights when he couldn’t keep thoughts of what could be—if he’d ever gather his wits and his words well enough to speak his heart—out of his mind, he’d imagine the scenarios that would lead to this moment. A goodbye kiss as one of them left on a run; a lingering hug that somehow turned into more; a deathbed confession; a need for comfort that opened the floodgates of emotion; he’d even envisioned presenting her with a trifle of some sort to celebrate a birthday or faux holiday.

But inadvertently giving her a vibrator and receiving a hot, lingering kiss as thanks had never crossed his mind.

He cleared his throat, trying to make it function again. “Carol…”

She worried her bottom lip, afraid she might have read the signs wrong and overstepped her boundaries—though anyone would argue he’d already done that with his Christmas gift to her.

She’d felt his shock melt away into that molten kiss that’d left her knees weak, and the fact that he couldn’t think straight now told her she hadn’t made a mistake.

Still, when he breathed her name on a frustrated, confused, but hopeful sigh, her face broke into a smile. “Yes?”

“I do.”

“I do, too.” She gave him a wink despite the embarrassment she read on his face, then slid her arms around his neck, placing feather-light kisses under his ear. She felt him shiver, noted the tension leaving him as he settled into the embrace. “And if you’re really good…I’ll let you see how this thing works.”

He huffed a laugh and pulled her tightly against him. Her hair teased his nose, and he nuzzled her neck, suddenly overwhelmed by the sensation of Carol in his arms. How had this travesty ended like this? “If I’m really good…” he murmured against her throat, emboldened by her words. “…you won’t need that thing.”

Her laughter rumbled against him, and he hid his smile in her shoulder, astounded that a minute ago he couldn’t speak and now he made her sultry promises.

Her teeth grazed the lobe of his ear, making his knees weak and his body tingle, before she whispered, “You might be surprised what we can cook up.”

Unsure where this little game would take them but more than excited to find out, he pulled back enough to look at her. “Mmm, naughty and nice.”

“Um-hmmm. And now it’s time for your Christmas present,” she murmured before leaning into him again and illustrating just how best she could be both.

[summernumber74]

“Summer No. 74″ — Day 2 — 3,341/50,000

Judy thought she looked extremely serious and handsome rushing around the loading docks. “Someone mixed up these frat t-shirts with the sorority t-shirts, and then packed all of that underneath Student Life sweatshirts and that order doesn’t even need to be filled until October. Plus there’s the radio station and then a couple of the bars downtown wanted stuff by the time students move in.” Finally she tied up her hair, put her thin long fingers to her temples, hummed The Proud Family theme to herself. Judy, feeling the sweat on her brow beginning to melt again, knew she’d miss this beautifully earnest woman. In spite of the strange, only half-born nature of their mutual affections, Judy felt that over this long miserable summer flew a huge banner that, in gold letters like an Irish manuscript, read KATHLEEN’S SINCERE KINDNESS. And Judy had found shade under that banner, out of the sun that knows everything, every thing in Judy’s loathsome heart. She went over to where Kathleen was cutting through the tape of unlabeled boxes, reached for, and then pulled back from, her sweatshirt sleeve. “Hey, Kathleen, I know there’s a lot going on here and—” Kathleen, brief, turned and said, “What if you stay at my place this weekend? Like, over night? And come in on Sunday? I mean, you can keep your stuff at my place, even if it’s a lot.”

“Well well well, if it isn’t Judge Judy!” Ken was being weird tonight. Judy figured a customer at the Ea-Z Freez had made a scene right as their shift ended, which always got them wound up. Judy shut the door behind her and gathered herself. “Hey Ken,” Judy being singsong hesitant. Ken came from around the corner in a sports bra and pink camo cargo shorts, their forearms dripping wet up to the elbows. “Need a judgment of yours. I’ve been soaping down the kitchen counter for and that’s good to go, though there’s something weird in the cabinets I want you to look at. More the issue is that no one else can figure out what to do with the mold in the shower. I texted Angie and she says try to burn it off. Dani says I shower the most so it’s my issue to figure out. Oh and listen I think Danny-II already left, so we’re stuck with his stuff. I found this pair of corduroy pants of his that I think you might like,” Ken pointed with their toe at a pile of olive brown next to Danny-II’s open door. All that was left was a small pile of books owed to the public library, a few garments, and a wall-to-wall collection of anime posters. Most of the idol posters had already been folded up and, Judy saw, placed right next to Angie’s door. Hmm-ing for a minute, Judy said, “I might take the…Cowboy Bebop posters?” Dani slammed open the door, her hand over her mouth, doing the anime “Incredulous Woman” laugh— “HueHueHueHue! Someone who doesn’t watch anime? Who likes Cowboy Bebop? Perish the thought!” Judy knew there was an immense amount of chaos in the house tonight. “Did you hear me from outside,” Judy asked. Dani shrugged and said, “I am extremely sensitive to sounds.”

Judy started rifling through Danny-II’s library books, said, “Hey Dani maybe you need to flip through this,” and threw a hardbound New Solutions for Soundproofing Your Home: Revised for Wine Rooms & Home Entertaining over Dani’s forehead, grazing her buzzed hair. “Man O Man,” Judy said, “What didn’t this guy read? Listen to this: Weather Systems in the American Southwest, 1981-1995; The Unpublished Dan Brown; Reconsidering the Byzantines: Post-Ottoman Greek Nationalisms; A People’s History of Real Estate Fraud in the Early American Republic; Home Maintenance Volume 2: Patio Maitenance. This guy reads the weirdest shit.” Ken wiped their arms on their pink camo and grabbed the Dan Brown, flipping through it as they walked back towards the kitchen. Dani picked up the book on weather and unfolded weather pattern maps, whistling like they centerfolds. “Wow, New Mexico in ’86 was… bonkers.”  Judy hollered towards the kitchen, “Well, if he’s out of here, I’ll take these back tomorrow.” “Alright, alright, I’ll leave this out,” Ken said. Dani tossed the weather book back on the floor, the map still unfolded.

 Judy and Dani spent some time trying to get the kitchen together. The weird thing in the cabinet, which was indescribable, something like an architectural defect and a distinct object halfway present in space and time, they left to tomorrow. While Judy swept, Dani said, “So, Jeremy texted me a couple minutes ago. He says you might not be around much this weekend?” Ken, extremely relaxed out on their loveseat with their legs on the coffee table around both side of the little LCD television, raised an eyebrow over the Dan Brown. “Well, you know…I went to pick up my check today and Ricki hadn’t come by yet. It’s her mom, I think, or her aunt or something? Well anyway you know that goofy thing Jeremy does when he’s in his zone?” Dani laughed. “You mean that goofy Humphrey Bogart look from the movie posters? Yeah, that kid’s a trip,” and Dani, in imitation, drew her lips tight and made her forehead strained still. With the look still on her face, Dani got right next to Ken and whipped the book up out of their hands. “Hey! I was reading that,” Ken reached behind the loveseat, straining over a bit. Dani turned around, rubbed her thumb on her lower lips, and said in an arch French accent, “B-oooogey.” Judy snorted at this and continued, “Anyway, I think I’m gonna try to work a couple shifts before I leave, just a couple hours, and then I’m gonna keep my stuff at Kathleen’s and, like, stay there Saturday night.” Now Ken was involved, saying, “Oh! So you and Kathleen are talking, huh? Or, I mean, again?” Judy tried to keep the excitement she was feeling out of her voice, saying, “It’s not like we stopped talking. I mean, we’re close and we saw each other every day at work, you know. It’s like, if our landlord’s coming by to take our keys on Saturday, anyway, I’m not going to want to drive back just to make a little money, even if it’s helping out.” Judy felt satisfied with what she felt was a masterful deflection.

 Until Dani added, “Oh, well, Jeremy said you seemed much more enthusiastic about it. You, lemme check my phone, I want to get this right—” and she peaked at her phone in her pocket, “You, and I quote, ‘did that weird hop-step Judy does when she’s really living her life.’ Is that true?” Judy felt her face get hot, but Dani said, “Oh, well you seem very cool about it. Maybe Jeremy was just reading into things. He did say that Kathleen seemed pretty pleased with herself when she told him, though. He said she was especially shoulder pad-y when you left.” Judy and Dani and Ken all simultaneously went “Ah, hmmmmm,” at that. Judy let this sit in the air and groaned. “Y’all…I really liiiiiiike her. She’s very tall.” Ken said, “ Well, be realistic. What could something like this mean except for some kind of, uh, interest? Or something?” “Yeah,” Dani said, “I mean it’s not like y’all had any kind of falling out or anything in the first place. You just, what, she went to see her family for a few weeks, you got kind of,” Dani, searching for a delicate word, making a ‘come on, come on’ hand gesture next to her own head, “weird? I guess? And there was that like, that thing at the party. I dunno. Ken’s got it right, don’t worry about it. Even if she’s not trying to marry you, she must wanna still, what? Keep close after you leave town? And you’re gonna visit, right? What’s the worry, then. You two’ll probably just, what, watch some ABC Family melodrama, make out on her porch and go to sleep. It’ll be cute, enjoy yourself.”

“Huh, that makes me think,” Judy said hesitantly. “Does she only want me over on Saturday, or also, like, earlier? Maybe I should text her.” She rubbed her hands, dusty from having moved on to clean the graveyard of spiders that was the top of the cabinets, and sent Kathleen a text:

           J: Hey! So, i’m just trying to let my mom know what’s up for this weekend

           J: She doesn’t *need* me home urgently per se so like maybe i could come hang out with you all weekend?

                       Sent 10:06 PM

           J: Like when we’re not at work. I know you’re super busy!! But like i can work in the mornings or            

           afternoons or whenever and then when we’re not working… or like…

                       Sent 10:07 PM

           J: Could i stay over friday and saturday too?

           J: Or you could come and hang here too?

                       Sent 10:10 PM

                                   Read 10:53 PM

           K: Hey! Are you still around? We JUST got out. Me and Jerry are going to go get a drink. Are you up?  The two of us would love to see you again:)

                       Sent 12:01 AM

           J: Oooooh

           J: I’m honestly so gross rn i’m actually about to shower real quick y’all go ahead

                       Sent 12:02 AM

                                   Read 12:02 AM

           K: Haha awww I feel that. Hey why don’t we just get something from the gas station and come over. You  still have that gross couch? Like, it didn’t get torched at the destruction party :p Do you want anything?

                       Sent 12:03 AM

           J: Umm just get me a…            J: bud lite lime lmao

                       Sent 12:05 AM

                                   Read 12:05 AM

           K: You got it! ^___^ See you soon <3 <3 <3 <3 <3 <3

                       Sent 12:05 AM

           J: <3 <3 <3 <3 <3 <3<3 <3 <3 <3 <3 <3<3 <3 <3 <3 <3 <3