#dressed like a kid (the two of them enjoying their company as brothers for the last time)

[dam-mar]

not me spontaneously crying to a tiktok with the half return audio because all i could think about was how the lawn is fucking dead since roran is mortal but eragon will endure

[noceurous]

a guide to dating in twenty first century

now you’re on a second date with him, you’re not on his lap but he is between your legs

warnings: implied age-gap, swearing, mention of abusive behavior (not by joel or reader), mention of bad childhoods and life struggles, some angst, nicknames (baby), fluff, smut; semi-public sex(ish), fingering (f receiving), oral (both receiving), hints of dom!joel, daddy kink, minors dni (18+), reader is able-bodied, afab, and has hair.

a/n: sorry this took so long, real-life is a chaos and sucks but thanks to Portugal pics i’m so writing the third chapter now!

[part i]

part ii: the in-between

Going to movies was definitely not on your top three for ideal dates. You usually went to the movie theater with your mom who shared your love for overpriced, extra salty, greasy popcorn and never chit chatted during the movie. Or you just went there alone, enjoying it by yourself and your popcorn.

“Would you like some popcorn?” Joel asked while you were making your way to the screening room.

You texted Joel after two days. You were worried you made him think you were pressured by him. Even though you reassured him a few times it wasn’t like that, he was a gentleman enough to think it was better to give you some space.

After getting your text, he had invited you to a movie he wanted to go to. Saying he had an extra ticket since his brother ditched on him.

“Yeah, it’d be nice.” He motioned for you to go inside, gently pressing his hand on the small of your back.

“You go in and I’ll go get them.”

“I can join—” He raised his hand, pointing through the door.

“I insist.”

Soon enough he came back holding a large bucket of popcorn, and two sodas. You noticed his hands were large enough to carry them without any trace of struggle.

And he had thick long fingers which gave you one of your best orgas—

“Thank you again.” You said as he gave you the bucket.

“Are you comfortable?” He asked as he sat down next to you. Eyes scanning you for a trace of discomfort.

“I’m on a nice fluffy seat, I've got my soda and popcorn. Also I’ve a handsome guy in my company. I don’t see any reason to complain.” You said as you threw one popcorn inside your mouth.

“If you are good with the ‘handsome’ company, then I’m good too.” He said as he took some of your popcorn.

“Are you kidding? It’s the best part.” You winked at him, earning a small chuckle.

He leant to kiss your cheek. You acted before him, your lips pressing his before they could reach your cheek.

The kiss was sweet, and soft. When he sat back you could see the pinkish hue his lips got thanks to your lip balm.

Before you made a comment about it, the lights were dimmed all the way down, meaning you had to focus on the screen, not the handsome company.

The movie was a guy’s movie; full of action and no message to give, just something to enjoy. Maybe you could watch it again with your dad. Whenever you wanted to spend quality time with him at his man cave.

You jumped when the guy blew up the car, some of the popcorn was shifted inside the bucket. He placed his hand on your thigh. It was more protective than suggestive. You knew it was more like a reflex and he had no intention but since you had the brightest idea of wearing your shortest dress it was not that innocent for you.

You could feel the goosebumps forming on your skin, and dampness on your underwear. It did not take you too long to remember your previous date, and how you ended up on his lap.

Just focus on the MOVIE.

His hand was placed in a reasonable spot, a few inches above your knee. Fingers lazily drawing circles on your skin. You glanced at him a few times but each time his eyes were locked on the screen. You knew that he was aware of your gaze. His touch on you got tighter at times, fingers moving higher, halfway to reach your dress just before the first part of the movie was over.

You looked down at your lap, precisely focusing on the casually wandering hand. Saved by a second to get caught. “So? Did you like the movie?”

“It was… entertaining.” You said as you slurped your soda, avoiding his gaze. “I enjoyed it when the guy decided to steal his stepfather’s car, who blamed him for his mother’s death.”

He raised his eyebrow, “You didn’t like it, did you?”

“Not on my top three, but not at the bottom three either. Maybe next time I can pick the movie?”

He smiled, his tongue clicking on his mouth. You knew he liked when you gave him a green light for a second date. “Next time, I’ll let you choose the movie.” He nodded, his hand squeezing your thigh. You subtly parted your thighs, letting his hand move.

When the lights got dimmed again you two were still looking each other, taking in each other for a few seconds before the second half started.

You could feels his gaze on you this time. His fingers were slower, tracing the outline of your inner thighs, moving closer to the hem of your skirt.

You breath hitched, thighs parted slightly, asking for more. You bit down on your lower lip. Breathing through the nose and watching some guy got beaten the hell out of.

Joel’s fingers brushed along the hem of your skirt, waiting there, asking for a sign of approval.

You spent each night to make yourself cum like he did but you did not get even close enough to finish it.

Your body took over the control; you snuggled next to him, raising your hips a little. His fingertips disappeared under your skirt. You looked up to him, seeing the smirk on his face.

His middle finger traced your wet slit through your underwear. Pressing onto your clit, you almost jumped when the pleasure hit you like electricity. Your hand got on his thigh, your fingernails digging onto his hard denim.

He was playing with you as you did to him. You could feel his bulge under rough denim. Fingers dancing slowly on the shape, hearing his breath hitch when you pressed your fingertips on it.

He threw his arm around your shoulder, pressing your body closer to his. His other hand was still on your underwear, playing with the band of it.

You pressed your palm against him, gently stroking him up and down. He slid your underwear to the side, exposing you to him. You cursed under your breath as his fingers played with your folds.

You raised your head, pressing your lips along his jawline. His salt pepper beard trickled your lips but you did not mind. He turned his head, kissing you all he got as he pushed a finger inside you.

You bit down on his bottom lip, trying to not moan loudly and got attention. Thankfully the movie was loud enough and a few people chose that time-slot.

“Joel.” You whispered, placing your hand on his bicep. He didn’t stop, curling his finger inside you slowly pumping in and out. You sank down your nails on his skin, biting down on your lower lip to keep yourself quiet.

You kept palming him, trying to get your revenge but he had the upper hand. Your head felt heavy as your pleasure kept building and building.

The credits started to roll on the screen, and lights were turned on again. Joel pulled out his fingers just before people started to move. You both were smiling at yourselves for not being caught.

You got up quickly, holding him by his wrist, leading him to exit. Ditched your half finished soda and popcorn back there in your seat. Your mind was still cloudy from pleasure and you wanted to get more.

He pressed you to his groin as you walked to his car, afraid someone would see his now semi-hard bulge.

He liked the way you dragged him. He liked how you held onto him. He liked how you looked over your shoulder and gave him a small smile.

He loved your smile.

—

You were in his car, in the parking lot. You looked around to see if there were anyone around before you got inside. You quickly kissed him, moving onto his lap again. He pushed his back, giving you a space for you to move better. His hands were holding your ass over your dress, making you grind into him through his jeans.

“Fuck, baby.” He said, his hold on your ass got tighter. “If you continue to go like this…” He admitted, sucking on the spot under your ear.

“Let me suck you off, please?” You said, battling your eyelashes.

His chest fluttered with your request, he couldn’t remember the last time someone asked him this, if anyone ever did. Now his jeans were a bit tighter and his smile was bigger.

An eyebrow raised. “You want to suck me off?” He cupped your cheek, rough thumb tracing your bottom lip.

Instead of answering him, you took his thumb into your mouth, pressing yourself further on his lap. Your crotch was right on top of his bulge, your dress was lifted around your waist.

He cursed under his breath; raising his hips to feel your damp underwear. His one hand was still on your ass, taking a fistful. He knew if you pressed on him little tighter you would definitely leave this car with his fingertip marks.

“As much as I want to see my cock stuffed in your mouth— I don’t want to do this in here.” He said taking off his thumb and replacing it with his tongue. His hand was on the back of your neck, pressing your body onto him as he kissed you with all he got. You opened your mouth to him, letting his tongue devour inside your mouth.

You placed your hands at the back of his neck, fingers curling around the dark locks there. Feeling him melt onto the kiss.

He gently placed you back on the seat, kissing your temple. Your brain functions stopped, unable to process what he had just done.

“Let me drop you off baby. It’s getting late.”

“Okay.” You said nodding quicker than you want, trying to keep your eyes to yourself and not on his erection. You could heard how devastated you sounded even you only said one simple word.

—

The car ride was quicker than you expected, he probably crossed the speeding limit a few times. His one hand on the wheel, the other fixing his jeans, grumbling whenever he had to slow down.

Your hands were trembling when you put your key in the hole. His large hand placed on your hip, his erection was pressed on your ass. Poking you through your thin dress.

You didn’t know if he was doing this to hide it from people or to turn you on even more. His size was effective enough for both.

You almost pushed yourself inside when the key finally turned, the darkness of your hall greeted you.

You turned on your heels, pulling him closer to you by the collar of his shirt. Not wasting any time to kiss him. He groaned into the kiss, one hand found its place on your waist as the other pushed the door closed.

You tried to think fast, whether you should take him to your bedroom or your couch was fine or not. When he broke the kiss to take a breath. Leaning his head back on the wall, eyes glued to your heavily breathing figure.

Your hands unbuckled his belt, taking it off swiftly. You broke the kiss to get on your knees but he stopped you. “Are you sure?”

You were fooled by his question. Battling your eyelashes, keeping a soft smile on your face. “Yes, Joel. I want this.” You said as you got on your knees. The landing was not as gentle as you hoped when you got on your knees, the fibers of the rug hurt your skin. Taking a note to get yourself a fluffier rug.

Your hands were trembling when they got on his pant button.

You’re not even good at a fucking blowjob.

His hands were placed on yours, stopping you from pulling it down. “Take a moment baby, ‘m not goin’ anywhere. Okay?”

You looked up into him, seeing the soft smile on his face made your heart slow down. His knuckles caressing your cheek up and down. You saw how hard he was trying to hold himself.

You nodded, taking a large breath through your nose. Pulled the jeans down quickly, seeing his angry cock right in front of you.

Telling he was big was definitely an understatement. And he was not even fully hard. Your mouth salivating when you saw how shimy his tip was with the precum a thick vein underside.

You licked your lips, taking his cock in hand. He hissed at your warm touch, guiding it to your lips. He pressed the tip on your lower lip, smearing his arousal.

You gave it a long lick, tongue following its slit. He hissed when you gave him a quick kiss. Licking and kissing along his length; getting him as wet as possible before you took him inside your mouth.

“That’s it. Good girl.” He said as you wrapped your lips around him, and your fingers were wrapped around where your mouth could not fit.

You began moving your head slowly, working your hands alongside. You relaxed your jaw as you took more of him, his tip pressing at the back of your mouth. Your gag reflex triggered when his tip hit the back of your throat. You stopped for a second to give yourself time to adjust before continuing to suck him.

He was breathing through his nose, watching you between his legs. Your left hand was brushing along his balls at every stroke. Your warm mouth around his length. He could see how hard it was for you to fit him inside your mouth. You were breathing your nose, glossy eyes and some saliva leaving your mouth. It was even harder for him to not take control, not hold your head and move his hips. His nails dug into his palm, leaving half moon shaped marks.

He could feel him getting closer and closer to cum, trying to hold it as long as it was possible, savor the moment. But you were making it hard for him when you were looking at him like that. With tears around the corner of your eyes, taking him with all you got; sucking and licking.

You felt his hot cum shoot through the back of your throat and tongue, the familiar sour taste on your taste buds. You waited for him to finish before slowly taking him outside of your mouth.

His hands cupped your cheeks, raising his eyebrows. “Open your mouth.” He said and you obeyed him. Showing his cum pooled on your tongue. “Good girl, now swallow it.” He said, his fingers brushing along your hair, fixing the loose strands and tucking them back.

You felt proud when he called you good girl. You wanted nothing more to please him. You put your tongue back inside your mouth,swallowing all of the cum; opening your mouth again to show him you swallowed.

He chuckled, kissing you after you got back on your feet. “It is my turn to return the favor.” He said, placing his hands on your dress, guiding you to your couch in a few short steps. “Leaving you high and dry is a crime, baby.” He said as he got on his knees, pulling down your underwear.

You nodded along his words, lifting your skirt to show him your bare cunt, as he got on his knees. He smiled at your state, licking his lips before he pressed his mouth on you.

He wasn’t slow or gentle, he was like a starved man who got denied from pleasure for a long time. You were already wet from the second his tip touched your tongue. His tip flicked your swollen clit, you felt like you were electrocuted with sudden pleasure.

“F-fuck! Da-Joel!” You screamed, pulling on his dark curls. Saved by a second by calling him daddy.

He stopped to speak, brushing his mouth along your pussy. His scruff was itching but somehow he made it better.

He looked into your eyes and you saw the spark in his. The corner of his mouth turned into a smirk.

He liked it.

“You wanna call me daddy?” You nodded, raising your hips to his face. “Call me daddy.” He said feeling himself get hard again, continuing to suck on your clit.

You threw your head back, pulling his curls again. “Daddy, it’s t—too m—much.” You confessed, toes curling as the orgasm built on, sweat forming on your temples. You felt your face heat up when you got close to this soon.

Was this okay?

“You gonna come for daddy? Go on, show me what my baby does so good. Coming for all over her daddy’s face.” You did as he asked, letting the pleasure take over your body.

Crying down with your release as he pushed his tongue inside, lapping up your juices. Groaning at your taste, shaking your body straight from the core.

When you came down from your release, you let go of his head. Lying down on the couch half naked in front of him with your dress around hips.

You looked like a mess.

“You look beautiful.” He said as he put back your underwear and helped you to fix your dress back.

You weren’t ready for the sudden compliment, having a hard time to process when somebody actually complimented you post-sex. “T-thank you.” He kissed your cheek.

He pulled his pants up, tucking his cock back inside his pants. Leaning down over the couch to scoop out his belt. “Uhm, the bathroom is at the end of the hall on the right. You cannot miss it.” You said as you got up from the couch, looking at how his beard was shining with your juices.

He blinked twice then got up. “Want anything to drink?” You asked as you got on your feet, pouring yourself a glass of water. “Yes, please.” He answered as he walked down your hall.

You heard the light switch in your bathroom, nodding to yourself. Your feet slowly dragging you to your open kitchen, legs still felt like a jello after your orgasm. You rested your hip on the counter taking a moment to close your eyes and process.

“You have a lovely place.” You jerked when you heard his voice. Didn’t hear his footsteps or the light switch of the bathroom.

You smiled as he came from the corner and sat down on your two person kitchen table. “Really? It’s a bit different from yours, I have plants which need water and better sunshine.” You said as you pointed your Chinese evergreen across from your couch. “I have tea, herbal tea, coffee, some white wine..”

“Just a coffee is fine.” You lifted your head to your open cupboard filled with colorful mugs and glasses, taking out a butter colored mug.

“And many colorful mugs, as I see…”

“Yeah I even had one that says ‘life is too short to use boring mugs’. Sadly my fridge and cupboards are not filled with many ingredients, it’s mostly frozen food in the fridge. I can’t cook for shit.” You opened your coffee jar, the smell of freshly grounded coffee beans surrounding the room.

He chuckled, “I can teach you, not everything maybe, but if there is something you want to learn. I'd be glad to help you.” You took out a fresh filter paper, placing it on your small machine.

You shrugged, the idea of him watching you prepare a simple coffee was already making your stomach twirl. “No, I just hate cooking. It’s more stressful when someone is watching me.” You explained as you closed the lid and flicked the switch of the machine.

“Now, you know how I felt about our first date.” His voice stood out from the grumbles of the machine.

You turned to him. Seeing him looking at you with those thick arms crossed at his chest, hair slicked back. He was a sight, and you cannot imagine him stressed even for a second. “Were you that stressed?”

“A bit. But I knew what I was doin’. I’ve lived alone for more than two decades, baby.” You nodded, remembering your first year of living alone. You had to google a lot of stuff and he didn’t even have that privilege back then.

“It hasn’t even been five years for me, so no pressure I guess.” You said as you poured his coffee. “My mum didn’t know how to cook until I was born, she says I’ll learn eventually and she is a great cook.” You handed him his mug. Sitting down on the chair across from him. “And your mum? Is she a great cook like you?”

“She was even a better cook than me. She had to feed three men. I don’t think it was easy back in the day as it seemed. There were many times that we were short on money, she mostly had to come up with stuff. I had to start working right after high school, support them for a while until it was my time to move out, then it was Tommy’s. Soon enough we came up with Miller Construction, and here we are.”

You nodded along as he explained, wondering what young Joel was like. Who did he hang out with? How did he spend his free time? Who was he dating back then?

Was he confused about his purpose in life as well?

The last one is too deep, don’t ask him that!

“I‘ve had a friend who was close with my landlady so that’s how I found the place. Then I decided to move out.”

More like a toxic ex than a friend.

“You’re lucky. It took me around three years just to find a place, but I also own my place so I guess that’s normal.”

“Kinda lucky. My landlady is a bitch to me…”

“Really?”

“She never helps me when there is something needs to be fixed. Creates a scene when I miss to pay the rent by one day. She used to snitch on me to my bo—“

You stopped yourself when you realized you almost break your rule.

Never mention your ex unless asked.

“She is not a good person basically.” You explained; raising up to place your now empty glass back to sink. Turned your back towards him to take a deep breath. Closing your eyes for a second when the familiar memory flashed in your mind.

You’d be stuck in that small place with your mum for the rest of your life without me.

“Have you thought about moving out?”

“Nope. My rent makes her tolerable, I can handle her if she gets though. I have claws too.”

“I see.” He said as he nodded along, taking a sip from his coffee. “Call me if you need my help. I’ve been told that I’m a very persuasive person.” You both chuckled at that.

He got up and placed his half empty mug next to yours. When he stood in your kitchen like that, all broad and tall, it felt like somehow he belonged there all along. In his casual fit jeans and dark green plaid flannel, holding your butter colored chubby mug, it felt like this was your casual evening.

“Living in a big city is tough for everybody.” He added, placing his hand next to your elbow on the kitchen counter. Fingers brushing up and down on your arm.

“Yeah. I will call you, if she gets on my nerves again. Maybe a fresh blood for the battle is better.”

“Yeah maybe.” He agreed. “I’d be glad to help you.” He said as he leant in, kissing you.

The kiss was small, you tasted yourself and the coffee before he took a step back. Leaning his forehead on yours, he gulped before opening his mouth.

“I really hate to say this but I better get going. Have some stuff to take care of.” He said before kissing your temple, walking back slowly as he made his way to door.

“Oh okay, let me walk you out.” You said as you followed him.

“When can I see you again? I assume your schedule is pretty tight, with the wedding and stuff.”

“Yeah it’s in less than 10 days, but I’m pretty much free. I have this dress rehearsal in two days and that’s pretty much it. That and the wedding of course.”

He nodded along as you explained. “I hope it’s not too early but I have a cabin. I’ll spend this month out there.”

You felt like your heart shattered when he said he’d be away for a month. “Oh, it seems nice.”

“It is. It’s good for relax and stuff.” There was a moment of silence, you scratched the back of your leg with your feet. Unable to form a sentence.

So was this a goodbye-goodbye? Would you be able to reach him when he is at the cabin?

“After the wedding I’d like to take you there actually. At least for a few days, I’m in between projects and usually I go there and spend some time away from the city.”

He wants you! He wants you there!

“I’ll check in with work, had some pending leave days, if I can use them…” He cut you short, already smiling like a kid with a treat when he got your answer.

“Okay, I’ll be waiting to hear from you.”

“Sure. Drive safe.”

“Will do,” He said as he gave you a kiss on the lips. You wrapped your arms around his neck, kissing him back. Giving him a nice goodbye before he marched down the stairs.

He felt like he was more alive then ever when you said yes to him, mentally planning the trip and made sure to go and check the cabin before he brought you there.

You felt like your heart was beating inside your chest when you closed the door. You brought your fingers to your lips, still feeling his lips there.

[giddyfatherchris]

Confidence booster

Pairing: changbin x reader, ot8 x reader

Type: Not requested

Genre: a biiiit of angst if you squint and fluuuuufff

Warnings: none

Requests: open for stray kids and bts

A/n: i thought about this random scenario and it made my heart grow a size or two with fluff hehe hope you enjoy xx

gif is not mine!

Summary: After a little incident while you were shopping with Changbin, he takes matter in his own hands to make you feel better and boost your confidence a little

"Why is this so good?" marvels Changbin as you walk down the mall, drinks in both your hands.

You laugh at his comment. Honestly, he's not wrong, but the childlike wonder Changbin often expresses always makes you giggle. He's basically a very buff and muscular child.

"Alright, so where do you need to go first?"

Changbin had invited you for a shopping day. He needed new clothes since he kept getting bigger by the hour. Usually, he would have asked the stylist for some new pieces, but he also liked to walk around the mall. So, with permission and a few security guards, you left together for a shopping spree.

He wanted to stop by a few stores, and you felt more than happy to follow along and enjoy his company. You had wished for the other boys to join you, but the occasion for them to get a free day was so rare. They all jumped at the opportunity to have a very chill and relaxed day.

You entered your third store your hands already full of bags, which all belonged to Changbin. Immediately, he started rummaging through the clothes. Every once in a while, he got out an abomination of a shirt or dress only to make a funny face to make you laugh. You joined in his game and quickly were almost crying because of the new atrocities you pulled out. Even the bodyguards couldn't hold in subtle smiles. 

You were about to show him a very confusing top when your eyes fell on a beautiful dress. You put back the previous piece of clothing without a glance. It was a stunning pastel color and flowed perfectly with its multiple panels. You let your hand stroke the fabric. Your mouth opened with surprise at how soft it was. Completely lost in your world, you didn't notice when Changbin sneaked up on you with a funny hat and pair of glasses. 

"What do you think of these?" he snickered, finding himself incredibly funny. "Y/n?"

"Mh?"

Pulled from your daze, you absentmindedly giggled when you noticed him, your mind not quite moved on from the absolute dream you held in your hands.

"You're not even laughing," he pouted before noticing your gaze of adoration. "That's really pretty. I'm sure it would suit you very well. Try it on!" he enthusiastically pressed.

And just like that, your little dream fell flat. You backed away from the rack as if it was poisonous.

"Oh no, I don't think so. I just thought it was soft," you mumbled before quickly walking away. 

For the following stores, he noticed the drastic change in your attitude. Your enthusiastic mood was long gone, replaced by a distant gaze. Every time he offered a piece of clothing he thought would fit you well, you looked at him with this tense stare, shook your head, and moved on.

When you got home, you immediately headed to your room. You dropped the bags directly in the entryway and said a dismissive 'hello' to Felix who was waiting for the two of you with a smile. The young Australian gave his older brother a confused look, to which Changbin only answered with shrugged shoulders.

You were lying on your bed, a frog plushie held tight to your chest. You stared at the ceiling as memories you hadn't thought about in months flooded your brain. You were so out of it you didn't hear the light knock on your door. Only the apparition of Changbin in your room brought you back to the present.

"Oh, hi binnie."

"Can I come in?"

You nodded as you sat cross-legged in your little bed, giving him some space.

"Did you need anything?" you asked after he stayed silent for a few seconds. He looked shy, almost awkward, which was rare for him.

"I wanted to ask you about something, and before you say I imagined it..."

"Changbin I-" 

He stopped you with a stern look. "Fine, I may have the attention span of a kindergartner, but I'm not that blind. You look seriously disturbed whenever I ask you to try something on." You examined your hands, ashamed to face his eyes. "And you can't tell me it was nothing. You looked panicked." He searched for your gaze, his head leaning on the side. 

You closed your eyes. "It's just because it's embarrassing to explain," you whispered.

He stayed silent with his brows furrowed, a silent invitation for you to continue, you looked up and winced. "I used to date someone, and when we went shopping he showed little interest in the clothes I wanted. Which I guess is fair, but the thing is whenever I did try something in front of him, he always made fun of me. Or would point out the things wrong with it?" You hid your reddening face in your hands. "Since then, I only go shopping alone. I'm never trying anything new in front of someone."

You sighed, feeling so ashamed, even though you knew your friend deserved some proper explanation for your unusual behavior. 

"So, that's why you wouldn't try that dress?" 

You nodded. He stared at you silently, patted your hand, and left the room…?

It wasn't totally out of character for Changbin, he really had a hard time focusing on two things at once, but you thought after telling him such a personal story, he would have shown some compassion or at least would have said something. 

It didn't help that you didn't see him the next day. The only thing resembling some news you got was a text in your group chat making sure everyone was still on for the meal at his dorm that night. 

You showed up at the requested hour to an almost empty house. Seungmin, Felix, and Lee Know were the only ones there, busy preparing the meal. When you asked about the five missing boys, they gave a vague answer about an errand they all had to run before supper. You shrugged off the bizarre coincidence with a suspicious look before you joined the preparations.

Changbin, Bang Chan, Han, Hyunjin, and I.N finally showed up with a plethora of bags about 30 minutes later.

"With everything you bought yesterday, I didn't think you were still missing some stuff Bin." You laughed until you noticed their conniving smiles and unusual silence. "What's going on here?" you asked after looking at Seungmin, Felix, and Lee Know.

The sweet Australian boy walked behind you and grabbed your shoulders.

"Changbin hyung told us about your thing with clothes." 

You whipped your head in the direction of the culprit, anger brewing in your blood. 

"Please don't get mad!" intervened Chan as he stepped up. "We went to the store and picked some stuff for you." He gave you an adorable smirk, and if you weren't so embarrassed, you could have swooned.

Your strong friend walked up to you, bags in hands. "Try these and then show us." 

Your mouth opened comically. "Is this a joke?" You looked at your friends and their hopeful smiles. "I told you I don't do that, and if you told everyone, you all should know too."                    

"Exactly, and that's why we want to do this. Please trust us?" He gave you the most horrid and cute agyeo look in an attempt to convince you. You pondered the situation and looked at them, hoping they would rescind. 

"I will try ONE thing, and then we never talk about it again," you grumbled as Changbin quickly handed you a bag with a gigantic smile.

Of course, it was the dress. It was magnificent, and if you were honest, you thought it suited you, but self-doubt was never far away. You could never trust your opinion. You were probably not seeing some horrible detail, you reasoned.

"You can come out now. We're ready!" screamed Changbin from behind the door.

Turning to face the doorway, you took a deep breath. You questioned even getting out. Why would you willingly put yourself in that situation again? But then, the answer timidly pointed the tip of its nose.

Maybe, just maybe, because you did trust them? And maybe because somewhere inside, you hoped it would turn out different this time. 

You stepped out, left the door flagrantly open for a quick escape, and faced the boys with your eyes closed. "Okay, I'm out. Here it is. Can I go back in now?"

Nothing. Your apparition met with silence, you slowly opened one eye then the other. They were all sat very neatly on the couch with serious expressions. 

"Uh, guys?" 

They stayed silent for a bit more, looking you up and down before they looked at each other and started absolutely screaming.

"WAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA SO PRETTY!!"

"OH MY GOD. HAVE WE BEEN GRACED WITH THE PRESENCE OF AN ANGEL?"

"MY EYES! MY EYES! THEY ARE DAZZLED BY ALL THIS BEAUTY!"

"ARE YOU A CELEBRITY?"

Bang Chan was fake sobbing and muttering about how pretty you were while Seungmin had just 'fainted' in I.N and Felix's arms. Hyunjin was fanning himself like a crazy person.

Suddenly turned MC, Changbin grabbed a hairbrush as a mic and presented your outfit. "Everyone! Here is our first outfit of the night! What would we rate this?"

"A 10!"

"12/10"

"ONE MILLION OUT OF TEN."

"It's PERFECT!" screamed Han.

You couldn't help a fit of laughter from escaping your mouth. Your cheeks were red with slight embarrassment and a healthy dose of happiness. The boys continued their crazy antics, asking you to twirl and do a model walk across the living room as they applauded. The show continued for a while as they encouraged you to try every item of clothing they bought you. 

Most of them fit you like a glove, and you praised their incredible sense of fashion. Even with the more ill-fitting ones, their comments focused on comedy. Not a bad thing was said about you or the way your body looked.

You concluded the night with the delicious meal your three cooks had prepared and a movie. You were cuddled up on the couch, somehow all touching despite your different positions. 

In the middle of the movie, you subtly looked at Changbin, sitting next to you. His gaze focused, face bare, and his natural dark curls giving him the fluffiest and most adorable appearance. After a few seconds of your maintained observation, he turned to you, a silent question mark in his dark eyes. 

"When you didn't say anything after I confessed my story I got scared you were judging me," you whispered. "But after what you did tonight, I just wanted to thank you."   

A satisfied smile illuminated his features as he reached for your hand, squeezing it. He didn't say anything for a while, his gaze back on the screen intently watching the movie, until he brought his mouth close to your ear and ushered in a low tone. 

"You deserved to be shown the proper reaction for anything you would ever put on. That guy was an ass if he wasn't able to recognize what was in front of him." Your eyes turned round like saucers at the words you were hearing. You shifted to look at him, but his eyes were still on the screen. "We didn't have to put on a show or anything. We simply had to be honest and say what we’re all silently thinking all the time."

[dcxdpdabbles]

thought: what if jason had the ability to see ghosts but only when tired. so he ends up thinking he’s hallucinating and doesn’t tell anyone because thats tims thing

There is a little girl singing nursery rhythms and spinning in small circles. Now usually, Jason wouldn't find that too out of place. Kids always found the strangest things entertaining.

No, what was strange was that the little girl was floating just above the rails of the stairway. She looks like a poorly edited clip slapped onto the backdrop of the gala he has been dragged to.

She's wearing a red dress and a large bow in her hair that seems to have been stolen from Alice on her way to Wonderland. Her skin had a greenish hue, and a slight glow was coming off her, reminding Jason of a miniature night light.

"Huh," He mumbles, taking another sip of the water he picked up. Bruce is the one who pretends to get sloppy drunk at all the parties, while in comparison, Jason has gained a reputation for never touching alcohol. It says a lot about how powerful the Waynes are if his presence ensures the hosts have other refreshments ready for him.

This means that the little girl is not a drunken hallucination. Maybe he's more tired than he thought.

"What is it?" Tim asks to his side. His disgusting CEO smile is still firmly in place, a twist of the lips that belie the hidden tension. Tim would appear relaxed and enjoying the party like any other elite if anyone glanced in their direction. "Trouble?"

The little girl is sticking her tongue out at some teenagers heading her way. She's not doing anything but making faces at random guests that walk by. "I don't think so."

"What is it then?"

Jason had a choice here. He could mention the little girl, but that would mean admitting he could see her. Based on the way, literally, no one is reacting; he's the only one that can.

She's likely another hallucination.

Jason has been getting those since he was young, usually due to a lack of sleep. Just last week, he saw a butcher wandering the streets of Gotham, wearing the highest heels he had ever seen. That had been after the five-day mission with the OutLaws, where he thinks he only had a chance to sleep maybe three times.

He should go home before the little girl starts doing something weird.

Not that he would ever let the rest of the family know, especially Tim. Seeing things that aren't there is Tim's thing, and Jason has teased him too often over the years about it to start admitting he's got the condition too.

He nods his head at the teenagers. Tim turns his body slightly, allowing his gaze to take in what he's looking at without making it obvious he's staring. Apparently, he can't make it known he's interested in someone. Ugh, another rule of high society that Jason will never bother to understand. "I've never seen them before."

He means the two accompany Samatha Manson. He's aware of the inventor's granddaughter, seeing as her family had ties with the Waynes, distant as they may be. It was Waynes who bought the rights to her grandfather's inventions many years ago, and his son was the one that started investing in some smaller shell companies of Waynes, further building the family fortune.

Jason didn't see her often at galas because while the Mansons were wealthy, they were new money. They had no connections, mannerisms, or mindset to be welcomed by the elites.

"Daniel Fenton and Tucker Foley. Foley is in the brown suit, Fenton is the one in the black one." Tim identifies quickly. He probably went over the gala invitation guest list to memorize everyone attending even though it wasn't a gala they were hosting. "Her best friends. Nothing that stands out too much about them except for Fenton. His parents are independent ghost hunters and researchers."

Jason blinks down at this brother. "Ghost hunters?"

Both brothers know how real ghosts can be in their line of work, seeing as Deadman has helped them with some cases before. Still, it's surprising to find civilians who are that close to the undead.

"More Ghostbusters than actual hunters." Tim shrugs when he gets a confused frown. "I looked into them to make sure Fenton over there wouldn't be a danger once in Gotham. His parents' inventions are marketed as ghost-hunting equipment but are authentic weapons. He's been known to show signs of rouge potential behavior."

Jason looks back at the black hair boy who is......talking to the little girl? Or trying to? She is spinning again, floating up to the chandelier, not caring for the teenage boy leaning over the railing towards her as Foley and Manson stand guard. If they trying to be inconspicuous, they are doing a poor job.

Jason spots Damian approaching the trio with a tense set of his shoulders. His youngest brother taps his finger against the glass in his hand in a specific rhythm.

If any of the Bats have seen Damian- which is all of them, given that everyone in the family always keeps an eye on Damian at galas- they have all been told the same message.

Possible jumper.

Granted, without the little girl, it looks like Fenton wants to take a leap over the railing. That's worrying.

Tim proves this by tilting his chin slightly in their direction, shoulders also tense. "Let's go."

Jason follows after Tim, trying his best to not make it obvious they are freaking out about a possible tragedy about to happen. Damian, thankfully, has already reached the teenagers but is stalled by Manson.

He can't hear what she's saying, but she's matching Damian's angry scowl with her own. Seeing the only two goth kids standing off with each other is hilarious.

Damian had told Bruce a few months back that he wanted to try and change his civilian persona a bit and had taken their dad's credit card with Raven to do shopping.

He's come back as a goth, giving Bruce a near heart attack, as Damian changed out all his suits to have a scull somewhere on his person at all times. Jason thought it was the best cover plan the brat could have ever done.

Mason's right eye twitches when she sees them, but other than glaring harshly, she doesn't say anything as they come up to stand behind Damian. Tim is in the perfect place to sludge for Fenton should the boy throw himself over. Jason is to tackle the two teenagers should they try to stop his brother.

"Dude, it's okay. Danny always does that," Foley assures as they finally climb up to them. "He's really into, ugh, parkour."

"It's dangerous," Damian particularly bites. Looks like someone needs more sensitive training.

Fenton stops trying to lean over the rail to glance over his shoulder to Damian. "I'm okay. Thank you for worrying about me, though."

Jason is standing in the prime location to see Damian's haughty expression melt away into startled wonder. He watches a tiny bit of red appear on the cheekbones of his youngest brother, and for a moment, all Jason can think is how much he will have fun teasing the boy later.

Gosh, if he wasn't so tired he would realize he wasn't the only one who noticed.

"He's red like a tomato!" A feminine voice chirps, and he can't help but laugh at the comment. Damian's face is slowly turning redder by the curious head tilt Fenton does in his direction. Cute.

"You got that right, kiddo, so red he's ripe for the picking. " Jason smirks down at his brother, who, for his part, dares to look confused.

"What are you babbling about?" Damian snaps as Tim's intense eyes swing over the boy's head to lock gazes with Jason.

"What the girl said"

"I didn't say anything," Manson denies, and Jason finally realizes he has responded to the little girl, who is grinning ear from ear. Shit.

"Oh." Fenton nods, stepping down the railing to look Jason dead in the eye and smile. "You see dead people."

"Cool, one of us. One of us." Foley chants with a grin, and even Mason seems to relax more, going from irritated to indifferent. The teenager stops his chat when the three brothers fail to find humor.

Danny just smiles near-vacantly, which causes Damian to look hot under the collar.

Maybe Jason should leave to take a nap in the safety of his room because he does not have the time to unpack all of this.

"Maybe we should find Bruce," Tim says after a moment, and that is when the little girl choices to fly right up to Tim and flick his ear. Tim startles so hard he slams into Damian, who loses his footing and falls over. Jason is fast enough to catch him before he rolls down the stairs.

Danny giggles, and for the first time since he's known Damian, he looks like he wants the ground to swallow him hole. What a weird night for Jason.

"What the hell was that?" Tim mumbles, looking around.

Manson grins a sharp, wicked thing. "A ghost"

"Of course it is." Tim sighs then he gives Jason a near-eye glare. "How long have you been able to see ghosts?"

"Honestly? Probably since I was six. I thought they were hallucinations."

"And why did you not tell anyone about having what you thought were lifelong hallucinations?"

"I'm not you. Hallucinations are your weird thing. Mine are guns."

"I like them," Fenton announces, and the other two finally step back. Only then does he come to the startling observation that Manson and Feley had been acting like bodyguards by placing themselves between Fenton and the Waynes?

What a strange night indeed.

"Todd, let me up!"

[wileys-russo]

childhood sweethearts (13) II a.russo x reader

playlist one two three four five six seven eight nine ten eleven twelve

childhood sweethearts (13) II a.russo x reader

the next few weeks seemed to pass by in a blur and before you knew it you'd blinked and it was the end of the month already.

you and alessia went from only texting when you needed something to texting every day, and then calling most nights if you weren't together, speaking about everything and nothing for hours, stomachs often aching from how hard you'd make one another laugh.

you appreciated the way she seemed genuinely interested in your job, asking questions and listening along intently as you recounted your days.

it surprised you to learn that if she wasn't a footballer she might have pursued teaching, though some of the horror stories you'd spun her about your time at uni and on placement steered her well away from that.

your heart warmed seeing how good she was with the kids when she did the friday football program, well all of the arsenal girls were, and with the program a raging success an agreement had been made between the arsenal academy and the school to offer discounted holiday programs for during the break.

you'd gone to see every single one of her games since the last, alessia's heart bursting to see you sat up with her family every weekend with her jersey on and her last name across your shoulders cheering her on just like old times.

and you were even learning to actually enjoy the game, though thats not to say you still wouldn't groan and complain when alessia would flick on a premier league game to watch after dinner occasionally.

her brothers had relentlessly teased her for it but she brushed them off, trying not to take to heart the jokes that if she didn't lock you down soon someone else might beat her to it.

neither of you had dared to broach that conversation just yet.

her mum was thrilled to see how close the two of you had become again, her parents picking you up most games or taking you out for a drink with them all beforehand, and always inviting you to family dinners afterwards.

and in turn your own mum insisted on both of your families coming together again like old times, and it filled you with joy to see how much time she spent with carol once more.

with the short distance between both of your apartments it seemed to become a routine of sorts that every couple of days one of you would drop by to see the other.

nights were spent taking turns cooking for one another, watching movies or sometimes just talking for hours until you'd both realise the time and need to hurry back home.

alessia had been wanting to ask you to stay the night for a little while now, but not wanting to push things too early on and just enjoying your company in anyway she could she'd hold her tongue every time you'd start to pack your things back up to leave.

but you'd always be sure to walk one another home which inevitably ended in the two of you kissing goodnight, and unbeknownst to alessia every single time you did you had to hold your own tongue not to ask her to stay.

you were yet to put a label on anything, and most of your 'dates' seemed to consist of cosy nights in, nothing super fancy or high maintenance.

you'd not clocked any sort of issue with it either, having known the girl for years it seemed almost silly to even feel the need to go out, much preferring how comfortable the two of you were around one another now you were both clearly trying to get things back on track.

well you didn't see an issue, not until rory opened her mouth one afternoon.

"wait you've not gone out? watching movies together or cooking dinner isn't a date!" your best friend rolled her eyes from where she lounged on your bed, having come over to help you with your quarterly closet clean out.

"anything can be a date if its with the right person!" you argued, holding up a dress to your body as her eyes narrowed and she pointed to the keep pile. "maybe once you're actually dating, but last time i checked the two of you were still dancing around that big question!" you blushed a little at her words and threw a cardigan at her.

"oh this is cute! can i have this?" you chuckled but nodded as she dropped it into the 'rory' pile which you knew was mainly the only reason she'd offered her 'help'.

"but anyway. if its classed as a 'date' it needs to be a bit more than just the two of you lounging about one of your apartments, thats just hanging out and one could argue that would be something strictly platonic!" rory pointed as you sighed at her dramatics.

"we make out, thats not platonic." you shot back with a glare as she ooohed. "and do you braid each others hair and swap secrets too?" the girl cooed as you threw a heel at her head causing her to shriek.

"sorry ro and how many relationships have you been in? oh just one? shut up!" you flipped her off and turned back to your clothes. "okay if anything its because i am in a long term committed happy and healthy relationship i can call this behavior out." rory started, pushing herself to sit up more.

"the two of you are acting like a) just best friends hanging out, or b) an old married couple. neither of which i know you want to be! you're both in your early twenties you should be going out and spending time together doing fun stuff! not curled up watching the same movies you've loved since you were teenagers. at least go to the cinema and see something so you leave the house!" rory tossed a pillow at you which you side stepped.

"so what i should ask her out to do something then?" you asked with a small frown, playing with the sleeves of your hoodie, which was actually alessia's hoodie. "yes! do exactly that. not that i can really blame you for not wanting to go anywhere super public with her but theres loads of stuff you can do to get around that." rory shrugged.

"what do you mean you can't blame me for not wanting to go anywhere super public with her?" you questioned with an air of confusion. "well because she's a fucking celebrity you head case!" rory laughed at you.

that took you off guard as you paused your sorting, moving to take a seat on the edge of the bed with a frown. "well shes not really a celebrity, shes not like an actor or anything." you challenged more so for your own sake.

"please! elite athletes can be just as famous as actors or singers or whatever, if anything even more so because they're more relatable to the general public. for god sakes she's won the euros and made the finals of a world cup you idiot!" another pillow smacked you in the side of the head as you shot the girl a glare.

"she also does sponsorships, ads, she's a branded athlete with adidas, she has a management agency, she's on a professional contract with a huge salary no doubt, and she plays on a global stage for fucking england!" rory ticked off on her fingers with a scoff.

"well yeah but-" you fell quiet at that, head ticking over as it dawned on you that rory was right. "come on just look at her instagram! as if you don't notice the thousands of people obsessing over her." rory chuckled pulling out her phone.

"i hardly use it! case in point you have to text me to like your posts." you rolled your eyes as rory moved to lay down shoving her phone in your face.

"see? she's got like nearly a million followers and look at how many people interact with her posts. she probably gets like a hundrd dm's a day of randoms asking her out, maybe even from other celebrities!" rory laughed nudging her shoulder into you.

"see she met david fucking beckham and it looks like he's the fan in the picture!" rory gasped clicking into one of alessia's more recent posts.

you knew rory didn't mean anything bad by all of this but as you scrolled through the hundreds on hundreds of comments on alessia's posts you chest tightened with an uncomfortable anxiety you'd not felt before.

"god and then theres tiktok and twitter and whatever else. i liked one video about less and it took me days to get rid of the edits of her on my feed." rory shook her head with a grin, grabbing back her phone off you and switching apps.

"see?" she searched up alessias name on tiktok and your eyes widened even further as she scrolled through the hundreds of edits. "jesus christ she is a celebrity." you exhaled, pushing rorys phone away and collapsing onto your back, moving so your head rested on your best friends thigh.

"well duh, what did you think? she's that same little ten year old playing for the school team with all the boys?" "no! i hadn't really thought about it is all. to me she's just...well she's just alessia."

"and that is very sweet of you but also very naive. i don't know how i'd cope if jack was getting that many girls in his comments, thank god he's just a measly banker." rory joked but at her teasing words you felt a stabbing sensation at your chest.

"but hey what have you got to worry about? all they can do is wish, you've already got the girl." rory shrugged tapping on your forehead as you simply hummed, caught up in your head.

did you have nothing to worry about?

~

you looked up from the pan of vegetables you were frying off hearing a knock at your door, lowering the heat and quickly washing your hands.

"hi lessi." you greeted the blonde as you pulled open the door, stepping aside as she hurried in, the weather below zero this week as she shivered.

"hello, aren't you a sight for sore eyes." alessia sighed happily, your lips meeting sweetly as she pulled your body into hers. "mm no one more." the blonde grinned pecking your lips a few more times making you smile.

"dinners almost done. how was training?" you left her to unravel herself from her many layers as you returned to the kitchen, hearing her join you shortly after.

"this morning? yeah it was good! nutmegged leah like ten times, she was fuming." alessia grinned taking a seat at the bench. "thats when you kick it through someones legs right?" you asked, moving the sauce off the heat.

"sure is, look whose learning. maybe we can get you into a sunday league team next!" alessia winked teasingly as you playfully rolled your eyes. "yeah you'd love that wouldn't you." you grabbed her out a bottle of water from the fridge.

"then i had a shoot this afternoon for adidas, that was fun. i just get awkward in front of the camera but the photographer was really nice!" alessia shrugged casually, taking a long swig of water as you hummed, that weird feeling from yesterday returning as you tried to push it away.

"one to ten, how hungry?" you questioned, two bowls in front of you as you grabbed the rice, having made a stir fry.

"mmm like a six? had a late lunch, some meeting with some magazine about some article. luca said we probably won't go forward with it, they've got a reputation for twisting peoples words to create drama that isn't there." alessia recounted as you again only hummed, a slight frown on your face as you dished up.

"thank you gorgeous." the taller girl leaned in to kiss you in appreciation as you handed her the bowl, eyebrows furrowing a little as you turned your head so her lips met your cheek instead.

brushing it off assuming you were probably just tired after a long week she followed after you into the living room. "no!" you warned as she went to sit on the lounge, lowering herself instead to the floor with a roll of her eyes.

"it was one time." the blonde huffed with a pout as you handed her a small handful of napkins, having knocked over a bowl of soup all over your lounge last week. "one time was enough." you smiled taking a seat beside her.

"get a dining table then and we wouldn't have this problem." alessia pinched your cheek as you mocked her and flicked on the tv. "less!" you complained as she plucked the remote from your fingers, flipping channels.

"nooo." you groaned in realization as she put on a mens game, manchester united playing against some other team you didn't know, only recognising the familiar uniform of the russo's childhood team.

"yesss." alessia mocked happily, sighing as she placed a mouthful of stir fry in. "this is really really good, thank you baby." the girl kissed your cheek again as a comfortable silence fell between the two of you as you ate.

it was during this time that alessia picked up maybe there was something going on with you. normally you'd spend the entire game either making comments, asking questions, complaining about how long halves were or teasing her for 'yelling at the players like they can hear you'.

but long after the two of you had finished eating you were still quiet, eyes not even on the tv as you seemed a little lost in your own world. "hey." you snapped out of it as a warm hand squeezed your knee, looking up into a pair of concerned bright blue orbs.

"you alright?" alessia asked, hand still on your knee as you nodded. "i'm fine babe." you forced a tight lipped smile, gently pushing off her hand and grabbing your empty bowls. alessia watched you go with a frown, now almost certain something was going on for you.

initially she didn't want to force it out of you, but as you both sat up on the sofa now and you subtly shuffled a little further away from her alessia couldn't hold her tongue any longer.

"you don't want to finish it? they're up by two!" you frowned at her as she turned the tv off, turning her body to face you. "i know you said you're fine, but i can tell somethings up." alessia started, reaching out for you as you flinched away.

"see! have i done something?" the girl asked as worry flashed across her face and you shook your head. "no no its just-" you struggled to get out your words, groaning and dragging your hands down your face.

"fucking rory." you muttered cursing out your best friend for causing this swirling sea of doubt in your mind. "you're fucking rory?" alessia misunderstood, pulling her hands back with a frown as again you shook your head.

"no! god no, disgusting." you pulled a face of disgust as alessia breathed out in relief. "its not something you've done, well not...directly?" you winced as the frown returned to the strikers face. "i don't understand."

"okay, well can i ask you something?" "of course." "do you consider yourself a celebrity?"

"thats...a loaded question." alessia exhaled as she thought it over. "i don't personally think about myself in that way but i can see why i'd be perceived that way." alessia answered after a moment to contemplate.

"but why do you ask?" alessia asked both concerned and curious as to where this was coming from. "its stupid." you huffed, falling down onto your back as alessia grabbed your ankles, pulling your legs to rest over your lap, relaxing when you made no move to pull away.

"if its bothering you its not stupid, please." the striker requested softly as you sighed. "well rory was talking to me about how its weird we don't ever go out on dates, and then she made some comment about understanding why i wouldn't want to because you're a celebrity." you paused as alessia nodded for you to continue.

"then she showed me your instagram and tiktok and there was just so many comments and i promise i don't dismiss any of your achievements but i guess i never really took a moment to realise just how many other people appreciated them too." you frowned as everything rolled through your mind.

"see! its stupid. of course you're going to get thousands of comments and fans and edits, you're an international football superstar." you threw your hands up, cheeks burning up a little.

"you jealous of all the fangirls love?" alessia teased as insecurity flashed across your face and she quickly realised that was the wrong thing to say.

"hey no i'm sorry, look at me." soft hands grabbed yours and tugged you to sit up. "first of all, its not stupid." alessia promised sincerely, eyes not leaving yours.

"but it is something we have to speak about, and probably should have already spoken about." alessia sighed in realisation, taking your hands into hers again. "social media is...complicated. people think they know me or i owe them something just because im a public figure." alessia started with a frown.

"every little thing i post gets picked apart whether its of me, a holiday, a place, a friend, my family, anything. people find out which cafes i go to for coffee and show up there hoping to see me, follow me to restaurants when i post im out eating with friends, take sneaky videos when im out in public and post them. it can get very invasive and a lot of people have no concept of privacy or boundaries!" alessia warned as you nodded slowly.

"so i guess if we..." alessia gestured between the two of you with a wince as you nodded to show you understood what she was saying. "...then thats something you'll have to know is there. its not going away, if anything the more tournaments i play in, ads i do, sponsors i get, interviews, articles, club trophies, the attention and the fans and the eyes will grow." alessia spoke firmly, still keeping a hold on your hands.

"but i'm not trying to scare you, i just need you to know that its there. i would always do my best to protect you but some things are out of my hands and out of my control, i can't stop what people think, post, say, much as i wish i could." alessia sighed, bringing your hand up to her mouth to kiss your palm.

"please say something." alessia laughed but it was clearly full of nerves, her face falling as you gently pulled your hands out of hers. "its just, this is all very new. i know you're still you, but i guess the thought of having thousands of people all watching everything you do and picking it apart or obsessing over you and wanting you in comments is overwhelming." you admitted, biting your bottom lip as alessia nodded.

"i know. it overwhelms me too but i promise like you said i'm still me, none of this changes that. and if anything ever bothers you like this please just come talk to me about it, i will always listen." alessia promised, relief flooding her body as took her hands again.

"thank you. i'm sorry for being a downer!" you smiled apologetically as the blonde hurriedly shook her head. "never. but you also did raise another very good point!" alessia started as you tilted your head curiously.

"as much as i love our dinners and movies, we've not really been out on a proper date. so can i please take you out on friday night? i'll be at the school for the program anyway so we could go out right after or we could come back and get ready or we could-" you cut her off as you pressed your lips to hers, silencing her worried rambles.

"i'd love to go out on friday lessi."

~

"someones popular today." you bumped your shoulder into alessias as she broke away from your students who'd been clinging to her all afternoon, leah now running a game as she started to break them up into smaller groups.

"i like kids but i do not know how you deal with all the questions! an angel of patience." alessia sighed bumping you back with a smile. "just an angel in general." you teased, catching the girls eyes quickly flicker down to your lips momentarily.

"excuse me miss russo we are in a professional environment, behave yourself." you warned, kissing her cheek quickly when no one was looking and walking off to calm a small argument which had broken out over team names.

"saw that russo." the smile couldn't even be wiped off alessia's face at katies teasing, the irishwoman standing where you previously had as she poked and prodded at the younger girl.

"so when are you bringing your girlfriend to a team night out then?" katie sung out with a grin. "she's not my girlfriend." alessia sighed, smile dropping as katie frowned. "oh, well no one to blame but yourself there. i see the way she looks at you! smitten." the girl clapped her on the back.

"i want to its just, we've got a complicated history." alessia mumbled with a frown. "ah! who doesn't. all ya can do is not repeat past mistakes. i know none of my exes would turn up to a bar to come pick me up wasted out of nowhere!" katie reminded as alessia winced recalling that night.

"god don't remind me, never again." alessia exhaled with a shake of her head. "well then get your girl russo! you'll never know until ya ask." katie shrugged.

"we're going out tonight, i'm gonna take her to that little darts bar its pretty quiet and i think i freaked her out the other day with the whole thousands of fans thing." alessia then explained the conversation you'd had.

"mm yeah, not something i can offer ya any advice on there less. i've always dated the famous ones!" katie winked jokingly, jogging off as the whistle blew.

"did i hear darts bar tonight? i'll tell the girls!" alessia's head whipped around as beth stood behind her, racing off toward leah before alessia could say another word, the girl throwing her head back with a groan.

"alessia! you're on our team!" she was snapped out of it by small hands gripping at her shorts and shirt, tugging her onto the field as she met your eyes on the other side of the oval, a smile sent her way before you returned to your conversation with your coworker.

it wasn't for another hour that alessia was finally able to track you down alone again, and by this time beth had spread the word and the plan was made, far too late for alessia to say a word as katie gave her a sympathetic look.

"hey! can we talk for a second?" you looked up from speaking with chloe, wishing her a good weekend as she walked off and you nodded, gesturing for her to follow after you back into your classroom.

"did you drive here?" you asked as alessia took a seat on top of one of the desks as you started to pack up yours. "no leah gave me a lift."

"perfect, i'll drop you home and then we can get ready separately. i assume you'll want to drive tonight though?" you smiled teasingly, it being no surprise that alessia preferred to be the driver of the two of you.

"look about tonight-" alessia started, watching as you paused, worry flashing across your face for a moment. "i'm not cancelling." the blonde was quick to assure you as you visibly relaxed a litte.

"we just might need to change the plan? beth kind of overheard me talking to katie about it and then assumed it was a group thing and invited a bunch of the girls and its hardly a date if my entire team is there too and-" alessia started to ramble.

"less!" you cut her off as her face blushed red. "i don't mind if the others are there, really. i know you were excited to show me this place, maybe we could just get dinner somewhere else together and then meet them there later?" you suggested as her face lit up.

"yes! god your mind is brilliant." the striker pushed herself up off the desk, her body suddenly pressing yours against your own desk. "well they don't just pay me for my good looks here." you teased, again catching her eyes flicker down to your lips.

"we're still in a professional environment." alessia stated as if to remind herself more than you. "mm i guess i'm off the clock now, its after four." you grinned, hands falling to clasp either side of her face.

"you know i never thought i'd be kissing a teacher in a classroom." alessia tutted, lips curling into a smile as you let out a laugh. "didn't realise this was something you were into? didn't peg you as someone with a teacher kink." you teased, closing the gap between the two of you.

"only if the teacher is you." alessia mumbled against your lips, hands squeezing your hips as you let out a small laugh, pulling away and hugging her tightly, chin resting on her shoulder.

"i'm gonna miss when this program is over. next term its dancing instead of football!" you groaned quietly, feeling her body vibrate with laughter against yours.

"are you trying to dance with me right now?" you laughed as she started to sway the two of you back and forth. "yeah can't you hear the music? would be rude not to." alessia accused sarcastically, pulling you forward a little and taking your hand.

"i seem to remember you used to be a terrible dancer, two left feet." you grinned as she adjusted your hands, one interlocking with hers as the other rested on your hip, yours on the small of her back.

"hey thats not true!" alessia huffed, eyebrows furrowing in offence. "yes it was, remember when you tried to learn the tango to win a bet and-" you were cut off as her lips pressed against yours again. "we promised never to speak of that again." the girl warned mid kiss, starting to dance with you again.

"oh less!" you winced as suddenly she stepped on your foot, eyes widening as she let go of you and stepped back, but her foot catching on the desk she went flying to the ground.

like a domino effect as her body smacked into one of the desks it toppled over, taking down the entire row as alessia winced each time one hit the ground. a moment of silence passed before your body dropped down to the floor, clutching your stomach as waves of laughter ran through you.

"its not funny!" alessia groaned, though after a moment even she couldn't hold back her laughter, the two of you eventually laid down on the floor unable to stop, wiping away small tears which formed as you tried to calm down.

"oh wow, did your students do that?" alessia gasped as she looked up and saw the galaxy of stars all over the roof once the two of you finally calmed a little.

"no i did, makes it way easier to get them to calm down after lunch sometimes. i turn all the lights off and draw the blinds, then i get them all to pick a star and stand under it, close their eyes count to ten and make a wish for the future. works nearly every time!" you smiled fondly, alessia stealing a glance at you.

"its cool the school lets you decorate like this, i wish our classrooms were this colourful and lively. i might have actually paid attention!" alessia shrugged as you kicked her gently. "you did pay attention, just to my work so you could copy off of it." you poked her with a smirk.

"they give us some freedom just no budget, almost all of this is self funded." you explained as alessia's eyebrows shot up in surprise. "wait really?"

"yeah, a lot of the stuff needed to actually run a cohesive program isn't deemed as so. like name tags, the reading books, plants, most of the stationary, the posters, all bought by me. then activities like when we have snacks on movie days, end of term pizza parties, none of thats covered by the department either." you shrugged as if it was no big deal.

"wait so you personally buy all that stuff?" alessia asked in disbelief as you nodded. "well yeah, just because the department doesn't think these kids need this stuff doesn't mean they don't deserve it. a public school education shouldn't set them back on resources and opportunities compared to a private one just because of money, i like to think im doing my bit to mend the gap when i can." you looked back up to the ceiling with a smile.

"what was that for?" you laughed as alessia quickly pecked your lips. "because teachers deserve more money. but i can't help that so i figured a kiss was the next best thing!" alessia grinned cheekily as you grabbed her shirt, pulling her mouth back to meet yours again.

though as she pushed herself up and moved to hover over you, you leapt away from one another at the sound of someone clearing their throat.

but both of you sighed in relief as you realised it was only leah who stood with a smirk and a bunch of flowers in her hand. "sorry to interrupt. but less left these in my car and i wouldn't want to steal them from their rightful recipient." leah spoke as the striker hurried to her feet.

a silent conversation seeming to be had between the two blondes through a series of facial expressions alessia accepted the flowers and leah sent you a smile before leaving, closing the door after her.

"for you." alessia blushed bright red as you stood, accepting them with your own cheeks tinted rosy pink. "they're beautiful." you swooned, placing them on your desk and pulling her into a tight hug.

"well beautiful girls deserve beautiful things."

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

fourteen

[fandomnerd9602]

Pretend

Bambi!Wanda x Reader

Three kids, a successful nonprofit, a loving doe for a wife. It was all so amazing. But in truth it was all very tiring too.

You and Wanda encountered a few firsts recently. Your daughter Natalie switched to bottle feeding and began trying to say her first words. It was amazing. You and your wife couldn’t be prouder or happier to say the least.

Your twin buck sons Billy and Tommy were enjoying kindergarten, alongside their best friend and wolf hybrid America who just joined their class. It was picturesque.

But you were missing special time with your doe. You missed, you yearned for the time you and her used to have together when you were younger. Not that you regret any of the amazing experiences parenthood had provided, but you wanted time with just your special doe. An idea formed in your mind and you approached your doe that evening with your amazing plan.

You approached your wife after dinner as she was cleaning the dishes. The boys were watching TV and your baby girl was dozing off in her little crib. It was all perfect.

You wrapped your arms around your mate and kissed her neck. She hummed in contentment.

“Detka” she moans.

“I want to have an affair. With you.” You quickly say.

Wanda giggles, “detka we’re married. What are you getting at?”

“We could get Natasha and Pietro to watch the kids,” you gently whisper in her ear. You begin caressing her thighs, sweetening the deal. “We can use fake names, get a hotel room. Just the two of us”

Your doe shutters at your touch. Her lips quiver at the mention of your plan.

“How soon?” She giggles.

“Friday?” You kiss her behind the ear.

“Friday” she responds with a blush. Your doe bites her lip as she goes back to her task. Her own mind finds itself racing with anticipation.

Friday had arrived. You got the reservation set and dropped the kids off with Natasha and Pietro. Your brother in law gave you a little wink as you turned to leave.

Wanda was already at the hotel. You made sure she had plenty of time to check in and get herself ready in however she wanted to. Honestly, the idea was so enticing and exciting for your bride. She even bought a couple little things for such an occasion. It made her giddy, a chance for the two of you to romance and woo one another.

You arrived at the hotel, a little swanky for your taste but Wanda really wanted to try it out. Turns out Friday night was a swanky event in the hotel’s restaurant, simply perfect timing.

You walked into the hotel in a nicely tailored suit, nothing too fancy but you knew your doe would love it.

You made your way thru the crowd trying to locate your bride as the jazz ensemble played softly.

And then you saw her. Wearing a red evening dress, makeup done, hair pinned up just right. Her antlers were shined up, gleaning like polished ivory. Her very mood portrayed that of a seductive fem-fatale from an old detective movie, your bride was just stunning. You almost couldn’t move, you were that stunned by her.

You walk up to her, trying to keep a certain level of charm on your face, “I must say, red really is your color, ma’am”

“I’m sorry,” she playfully says with a smile, “have we met?”

“I’m sure I would remember someone as beautiful as you” you respond. “Is there someone you’re waiting on?”

“No,” she stares at you seductively, “I’m here on my own accord, looking for some company”

“If it’s alright, I’d love to be some company for you,” you take the seat next to her.

“Most would be turned off by my antlers and tail” she lounges in the chair, not taking her eyes off you for a second.

“I find them quite attractive.”

“I could say the same about you.” She says, her voice dripping with the slight Sokovian accent that you loved so much. “So what brings you here tonight?”

“Maybe I’m looking for some company. Or maybe I’m here on assignment” you flirt with her.

“Oh?” She purrs. “Maybe I’m actually here to rob the rich donors scattered around here”

“International jewel thief? Funny I’m here hunting one” you retort. This little dance of words was enticing.

“Let’s save the cat and mouse for later” she grabs two drinks off a nearby tray, “let’s enjoy the moment and company”

The two of you take a sip of your drinks, however, your eyes remain locked on each other.

The band begins to play a more lively tune. “Care to dance, miss jewel thief?” You ask.

“I was hoping you’d ask,” she purrs as she gets up and sways towards you. Taking her hand, you guide Wanda out to the open dance floor. Your hand snakes around her waist and pulls her close. She lets out a little gasp.

Her hand snakes around your shoulder as the two of you begin to sway to the music.

To the best of the song, Wanda gently grinds her hips against yours. She knew exactly how to get to you.

“Spot any of your targets?” You whisper in her ear

“I spot one.” She replies with a mischievous smile, “I think I may have to get this one alone”

“Your room or mine?”

“Hmm…I don’t think your agency would cover a room here. Besides I want you all to myself” she guides her nails gently down your arm, the sensation was indescribable.

“I’ll cover the room service” you respond, earning a giggle from your mate.

She gently pulls you towards the exit of the lounge area. You follow her into the elevator and all the way up to your hotel room.

About an hour or so later, you and Wanda found yourselves lounging on the singular bed in your comfy set of PJs, the TV was playing a favorite movie of yours.

You had made love a couple times already and enjoyed each other’s company. She was the only company you ever wanted.

“I’m so glad we did this” your wife giggles.

“Oh I’m not letting you out of my sight,” you flirt with her, “can’t have you stealing some rich snob’s jewels.”

“You should’ve brought your handcuffs then” she gives you a wink.

The door knocked as you and Wanda got up, “room service” a voice called out.

You gladly answered and got your order of Chinese take out. Wanda really loved the fried rice and broccoli. The two of you took enjoying your evening with each other, just laughing and feeling like young mates again.

And then Wanda’s phone rang with a text from your pal Tony. The text read as followed: Wanda, why’d you take my watch off of me? Are you and Y/N coming back to the party?

You looked at the text and then at your mate. You had completely forgotten Tony was there too.

“Wanda?!” You asked with a little chuckle.

“I needed a reason for you to chase me?” She says with a little shrug.

Your mate, your doe, the love of your life. What would you ever do without her?

Tags: @lifespectator @olsenmyolsen @texaswolf23 @supercorpdanbeau @scarletquake-n7 @pinklawyerwinnerzonk @iiconicsfan25 @russianredassassin @revanshand @aloneodi @julieromanoff @softlymaximoff

[cthulhu-calling]

Camisado 1

Dark!Steve Rogers x female!Reader

Summary : You always thought you’d marry someone closer to your age, but you couldn’t complain. Although Steve was nearly seven years older than you, you couldn’t have asked for a better partner. He was kind, sweet and had always looked out for you ever since you moved into the neighbourhood at fifteen years of age. At first, you assumed it was an elder brother-ly thing. Beating up the boys at school who were bothering you, those who asked you to accompany them to the movies even after you said no. But on your nineteenth birthday, when he kissed you in the kitchen while your party continued on in the backyard, everything changed. You’d been going out since then and he’d made it clear to you as well as your parents that he planned on making an honest woman out of you.  You and Steve had the perfect life, you couldn't ask for anything more. But that doesn't mean he couldn't.

Warnings : 1950's AU, smut, misogyny, factual inaccuracies, lots of talk of pregnancy (seriously, this is a major content warning)

Author’s Note : Reader has no specified race or body type. It has all the period typical sexism but considering that when I imagine readers, they're always woc, there will be no period typical racism. Not beta'd so all mistakes are my own. I tried to do as much research on life in 1950's America so please be kind and let me know what you think!

Word Count : 5k

masterlist

You fell back on the couch, deciding on taking a small break after having spent the whole morning dusting and vacuuming the house. You still had to do the dishes and hang the clothes out to dry. Your mama always said, a man’s home is a reflection of the woman he’s with, and so you made sure to keep the house in near perfect condition. You looked up at the clock, a wedding gift from Steve’s ma. You adored Sarah Rogers, she was almost like a second mother to you. It was already past noon and you really needed to get a move on. You had less than an hour to take a quick shower and then make a quick lunch for you and Steve to take to the garage. 

Finishing your shower in record time, you quickly add chicken soup, flour, pepper and cayenne into the slow cooker followed by stirring in the chicken and veggies. You knew Steve always enjoyed your slow cooked chicken a la king. You could leave it on and it would be ready just in time for dinner. Packing a quick ham and cheese sandwich for the both of you, you placed it in your bag before checking your appearance one last time in the mirror. You had on a sleeveless white blouse with a blue, floral-a-line circle skirt and black kitten heels along with a classic red lip. Steve always preferred you in skirts and dresses as opposed to pants or trousers. 

With ten minutes before the clock struck one, you quickly made your way out of the house and began the short walk to the garage where Steve worked. You always brought Steve his lunch and spent the half hour of his lunch break with him and today was no exception. You’d been married for just over a year now and the two of you had decided that you’d wait for a while before starting a family, wanting to just enjoy each other’s company for a while before you added children to the mix. But it was established that you both wanted kids. While two would be more than enough for you, Steve wanted three, at the very least. 

You always thought you’d marry someone closer to your age, but you couldn’t complain. Although Steve was nearly seven years older than you, you couldn’t have asked for a better partner. He was kind, sweet and had always looked out for you ever since you moved into the neighbourhood at fifteen years of age. At first, you assumed it was an elder brother-ly thing. Beating up the boys at school who were bothering you, those who asked you to accompany them to the movies even after you said no. But on your nineteenth birthday, when he kissed you in the kitchen while your party continued on in the backyard, everything changed. You’d been going out since then and he’d made it clear to you as well as your parents that he planned on making an honest woman out of you. 

And exactly three years later, on your twenty-second birthday, he asked you to marry him. And you said yes, of course. The two of you got married two months after that day, in an intimate ceremony with only the closest of friends and family. Steve worked as a mechanic at Mr. Stark’s garage, making more than enough for the two of you. After the monthly expenses, the mortgage on the house and your savings were covered, you had just enough left every month to go out for a fancy dinner and to the movies once. 

As you reached the garage, you spotted Steve bent over the open bonnet of a car, tinkering around. Taking this opportunity to startle him, you walk up behind him as slowly and noiselessly as possible before placing a hand on his shoulder, calling out his name, causing him to startle and hit his head on the bonnet. He curses loudly before turning around, the anger evident in his eyes which burns out a little when he sees you. “You should know better than to do something like that doll,” he whispers in your ear, pulling you close by your waist before pressing a chaste kiss to your lips. You feel the heat rising to your face as you look towards your feet, licking your lips as you mumble out an apology. 

“Why don’t you take a seat doll, I’ll be done here in five,” he says before continuing to work on the engine. You nod as you take a seat a little distance away, pulling out the book you got from the library last week, smoothing out the dog-eared edge before diving back into the book. Just as you were about to finish the chapter you’d been reading, Bucky walks out of Mr. Stark’s office, snatching the book right out of your hands. “Hey!” you huff out a protest, reaching out for the book that he proceeded to hold above his head. Laughing heartily at your antics, Steve comes up behind Bucky to snatch the book and hands it back to you before sitting down and pulling you onto his lap, wrapping his arm around your waist possessively. 

Rolling his eyes at that, Bucky continues “Nat needs y’all to come over for dinner tomorrow night,” he says as he opens his lunch, digging into the food. Bucky and Natasha were Steve’s friends and had become yours too when you started dating him. The two had been married for five years now. Natasha was probably the most badass woman you’d ever met and while you hoped your mama never caught you saying that, it was true. She was headstrong and never took any crap from anyone. She was a nurse and while you admired her, you were a bit envious of the fact that she was a working woman. Steve didn’t allow you to work. He believed that it was his job to earn money to support you and while you would have still loved to work, you understood that things couldn’t always go your way. 

“What for? We’re going to my ma’s tomorrow night,” he questioned as you handed him his sandwich, before grabbing your own. 

“Go to Sarah’s some other day. Nat’s going to prepare a feast and she needs you there. Sam and Wanda and Clint and the family are coming too. Come with your appetites prepared,” he said, finishing off the last of his lunch before dusting his hands off and getting back to work, “No excuses, be there by seven. And for god’s sake Rogers, look presentable.” 

“Beat it, punk,” Steve yelled as Bucky moved away with a wave of his middle finger. You looked at Steve, giggling, before promising, “I’ll drop by and make her some soup for tonight. I’ll spend the night too if need be. Don’t worry, we’ll go to Nat’s tomorrow,” you kissed his cheek before removing yourself from his lap, packing up your bag. “I should get going, let you get back to work. I have lots to do at home,” you wave a goodbye, Steve watching your hips sway. 

Steve knew you were the perfect dame for him. He loved you more than anyone he’d ever loved before. He knew you’d be the perfect wife and mother to his children. He wanted you just to himself for a little time before the two of you started a family because he knew once he got you pregnant, he planned on keeping you round and full of himself for as long as possible. Just the thought of you barefoot and pregnant under his roof, cooking for him and his children, your breasts swollen and heavy with milk for his child. Just the thought of you pregnant and oh, so sensitive because of him, it all turned him on more than you could ever imagine. 

He vowed to start trying to get you pregnant soon. 

*

By the time you got done with all your chores around the house, you were exhausted. Dinner was done about halfway and the chicken noodle soup for Sarah was done and packed for you to take to her. She wasn’t feeling too well the past few days so you and Steve were going to visit her tomorrow with dinner, just to check up on her. But now, you’d already called and told her about your plans for tomorrow evening and that you’d swing by today before dinner. She was rather accommodating, claiming that the two of you needed to spend time with people your age. And she sounded much better as well. Her cold seemed to have improved and she sounded more energetic. 

At half past five, you decided to get to Sarah's house. She lived close enough, just a couple of houses down the street. When you and Steve got married, you decided to get a house close enough to both his ma and your parents as well. Which reminded you that you needed to visit your mama soon as well. You had borrowed her Vogue knitting books, and it was high time you gave them back. You quickly make the ten minute walk to her house and let yourself in using your set of keys to enter the house, not wanting Sarah to move around too much but to your surprise, you find her in the kitchen, humming a tune you couldn’t quite recognise, cooking what smelled like her famous lasagna causing your mouth to water instantly, the response Pavlovian at this point. 

“You’re supposed to be in bed ma, not prancing around the kitchen doing only the Lord knows what,” you say as she turns around, giving you a wide smile. 

“Don’t you dare sass me kid. Is that really how you greet your poor old mother in law?” she asked as she walked out of the kitchen, pulling you into a tight hug. Giving you a final squeeze, she grabbed your hands in her frail ones, leading you towards the living room. 

Stopping her halfway, you let go of her hand before holding up the thermos full of warm soup that you had brought. 

“I’m going to put this away for now. Heat it up before you eat it, okay?” you instructed as you moved towards the kitchen, putting the soup to the side before moving your hair out of your face and tying on an apron. 

“And what exactly do you think you’re doing missy?” she said as she followed you into the kitchen, thin arms crossed across her chest.

“Doing your dishes, what else?” 

“Is anything I say going to make you stop?” she wondered out loud. 

“Fat chance,” you said as you rolled your eyes. 

“Well, you better hang around until the lasagna is done, I’ll pack some for Steve. Speaking of which, where is that boy?,” she said.

“Still at the shop I believe,” you answered, almost done with the few dishes. 

“I see,” she says, an odd look passing over her face but she doesn’t say anything further so you continue to work in a comfortable silence. 

Wiping your hands when you were done, you removed your apron and put it back in its place. “Alright ma, I should get going. Steve must be back by now,” you said as you took your bag, a large oven dish of lasagna in your hands, moving towards the door, only to be stopped by her. 

“Tell me my dear, have y’all thought about babies yet?” 

Furrowing your eyebrows, you look at her with a confused look. “We’ve decided to wait. And we’ve only been married a year now,” you answer. 

Laughing lightly, she squeezes your hand in hers before letting go. “Alright. You tell that boy to come see me soon, okay?” You nod and wave goodbye as you start walking home. Checking the time on your watch, you’re horrified to find it’s already quarter to seven and increasing your pace, almost running to get back home before Steve. You reach home with just five minutes before the clock strikes seven, having just enough time to freshen up and fix your hair before the doorbell rings. 

At the sight of you, a smile quickly overtakes his face which you can’t help but reciprocate. As soon as he walks in he has his arms around you, pulling you into a passionate kiss. You quickly push him away with a giggle, “At least wash your hands first!” 

“I can’t help myself when it comes to you,” he says, squeezing your ass which causes you to squeak. Laughing, he hangs his cap and goes to freshen up as you get to setting dinner out. 

At the table, you tell Steve of his mom’s request and he agrees, saying he’ll go see her on Sunday. 

“Any clue what this impromptu get-together at Bucky and Nat’s is about ?” 

“I tried but couldn’t get anything outta him. Guess we’ll only know tomorrow,” he shrugged. 

“I should call and ask if she needs any help,” you said after dinner once you were done with clearing the table and putting the leftovers in the fridge. Steve was in the living room with a book and a beer. You couldn’t afford a television just yet but Steve had been saving up and according to him, you’d be able to get one in a month or two. 

He hummed absentmindedly, which meant he wasn’t really paying attention. Sighing, you quickly rang Nat up. It was Bucky who answered the phone. 

“Hey, is Nat there?” you asked. 

“Sure, I’ll just put her on,” he said and you could hear him calling out to Natasha in the background. 

“Hello dear, to what do I owe this pleasure?” she laughed. 

Giggling, you reply “Just wanted to check if you needed any help for tomorrow. It was rather impromptu and I heard that everyone is coming,” to which she only huffed and said “I just require you and Steve to show up, that’s all. Now I got loads to do honey, I’ll see you tomorrow!” she said as she swiftly hung up leaving you a little stunned. 

“That was weird,” you think out loud as you sit down next to Steve on the couch, his arm immediately draping itself around your shoulder and pulling you into his body. You snuggle closer, a content sigh slipping from your lips. 

“Don’t think so much, it’s probably nothing,” he soothes, his fingers playing with the collar of your blouse. Oh, so he was listening. 

“But-“ you start, immediately silenced by Steve shushing you. “Enough about this. We’ll go there tomorrow and find out,” he chastises, his tone leaving no room for argument. 

Deciding to just let it go for now, you untangle yourself from Steve who lets you go albeit a bit reluctantly and get ready for bed. It takes you some time to fall asleep but with Steve’s arm around your waist, holding you close, you manage to get a few hours of rest. 

*

You fixed your pretty yellow sundress and checked your hair and makeup one last time in the mirror. Modest but tempting. Perfect. Just as you were about to call out to Steve, he emerged from the bath, freshly shaved. Still not dressed, you tilt your head towards the cupboard, urging him to get dressed quickly. 

Rolling his eyes playfully, selecting a simple khaki and the baby blue shirt you’d left out for him. Steve combed his hair back, following you out of your bedroom, watching you pack up his ma’s lasagna. You knew it was Bucky’s favourite, it was almost everybody’s favourite, having not let him eat any of it last night. 

You knew Nat hadn’t asked you to bring anything with you but your mama would never let you leave home for a party without a little something for the hosts. So here you were, outside Nat and Bucky’s door, a tray of lasagna in your hands and Steve’s arms around your waist. Bucky opened the door with a wide smile, a bottle of beer in his hand. 

“Come on in, kids!” He almost yelled, definitely a little tipsy. Smiling at him, you stepped inside and Steve closed the door behind the two of you. 

Sam and Wanda sat on the couch, each nursing their own bottle of beer and a glass of wine respectively. She smiled and waved at you, patting the couch on her side, inviting you to take a seat. Holding up the lasagna, you tilted your head, motioning towards the kitchen. 

Natasha and Wanda both drank occasionally. You didn’t though. Steve didn’t like you drinking, not even a beer on the occasion. It was all your fault really. 

It was your best friend from school Ella’s twentieth birthday. Just you and a couple of other people from your class decided to surprise her with a little get together near the lake by the old lighthouse. You knew there would be alcohol but as long as you didn’t drink too much and were aware of your surroundings, things would be fine right? 

Wrong. Steve had been by your parents house, looking for you and being told exactly where and with who you were, he couldn’t control his rage. He didn’t approve of ‘Ella and her posse of bimbos’, as he put it. You knew that and while you didn’t agree with him, it was the reason you couldn’t tell him about your whereabouts that night. 

When he finally found you, you were sitting on a little picnic blanket, half drunk bottle of beer in your hands, chatting away with Ella and her boyfriend. You were a little tipsy but immediately sobered up at the sight of Steve storming towards you. 

You quickly got up, dropping the bottle as it rolled off somewhere, the sound of your heart beating and the blood rushing through your veins deafening. Ella tried to intercept him, trying to get him to stop and talk but he just ignored her and continued to walk towards you, grabbing hold of your upper arm. You yelped loudly at how tight his grip was, trying to get him to let go of you as he dragged you away from the lake and towards his motorcycle. 

At a distance from the lake, he finally let go of your arm, pinching the bridge of his nose, eyes shut. 

“Ste-,”

“Shut up. I don’t want a word out of you,” he spat. 

You quickly shut your mouth, taking a step back from him. 

“How many times, huh? How many fucking times have I told you to stay away from that girl? And yet, here you are, dressed like a slut, drinking away with that stupid whore and her friends,” he says viciously, taking a step forward for each one you took back until you were backed up against a tree. 

You were terrified. You’d never seen him this angry before, at least not at you. 

“You are never to see that girl again, do you understand?” he barks, causing you to nod your head so hard, you thought your neck might snap. 

“Good. Let’s get you home. Put this on,” he says as he holds up his jacket for you which you promptly slip on, following him to his motorcycle. You don’t even realise when you start crying, the tears streaming down your face making the skin burn against the harsh wind. 

When you finally reached home, you got off wordlessly, shrugging off his jacket which was hanging from your smaller frame and handing it to him. You turned to walk back towards the front door only to be stopped by him grabbing your wrist and pulling you toward him. 

At the sight of the wet trails streaking your face, a flash of guilt passes in his eyes but it’s gone just as quickly as it arrived. 

“You know I’m saying this because I care about you, okay? I don’t want anything bad happening to you, you know that right?” 

You can only nod numbly, as he gives you a small smile and a peck on the lips before gesturing for you to go back in, watching you till you’ve gone inside and locked the front door. 

Of course, you wouldn’t talk to him for days after that. Ignoring his phone calls or having your mama pick up the phone, telling him you weren’t home when he came knocking. 

You made him grovel and plead, letting him know just how angry you were but in the end, you gave in. You loved him, with his flaws and all. 

Pulling yourself out of your little daydream, you walked towards the kitchen where you could hear Natasha moving about. As you walked, you admired the picture frames that adorned the walls. You loved Nat and Bucky’s house, so happy and full of memories. You couldn’t wait to have that with Steve. 

“Now, didn’t I tell you not to get anything? I’m cooking up a storm here, who’s gonna eat all of this?” She questioned, her hands on her hips, over mitts on her hands and a frilly apron on. 

You laughed and moved closer to give her a quick peck on her cheek, putting the lasagna on the counter. 

“It’s Sarah’s lasagna. You don’t have to worry about it going to waste,” you tried. 

“Oh, I know. But you know my cooking can’t compare to hers!” She complained mockingly. Sharing a laugh, you start helping about, feeling odd just standing there doing nothing. She lets you help but refuses to tell you why she wanted everyone to come over when you tried to  ask. 

You had to give it to her though, she really had outdone herself. As you helped her take the food to the table, you were in awe. Tuna noodle casserole, beef stroganoff and mashed potatoes completed with the perfect buttermilk pie. The sight alone made your mouth water and tummy grumble. 

At the delicious scent wafting from the dining table, everyone slowly poured in, each of them grabbing a plate and loading it up. You couldn’t wait to dig in, everything looked mouthwatering. Jokes were made and compliments given, you made to take a bite but were immediately stopped by the conversation taking place across from where you and Steve sat. 

Bucky was urging Natasha to take a bigger helping of the mashed potatoes. While that was not particularly surprising, the next bit caused everyone to stop and stare. 

“You really should take some more,” he says, adding another heap of the potatoes to her plate, “you’re eating for two now.” 

You’d never heard silence quite this loud, everyone stopped midway, staring at Natasha and Bucky. Not Clint’s children of course, they couldn’t be bothered by much. They were busy stuffing their little faces with the feast Nat had prepared. 

After a minute or two of utter silence, a cheer broke out and Natasha and Bucky sighed, exchanging small smiles of relief. 

You, along with Laura and Wanda got up almost simultaneously, rushing around to envelop Natasha in a giant bear hug, who had started crying at this point. The boys were all congratulating Bucky, patting him on the back and making lewd jokes. The children seemed clueless as to what the fuss was all about but declared their merriment by making various noises as well. 

When everyone has settled down, continuing with their meals, the relative silence is broken by Wanda, “We get to be godparents, right?” She questions, motioning between herself and Sam. That’s when Steve pipes up, “You guys are already godparents to Cooper. I think it’s our turn.” 

“Exactly! What do you say Natty?” You wiggle your eyebrows playfully at her. 

Huffing a laugh, she adds “We’ll cross that bridge when we get to it. Can we just enjoy this lovely meal I worked so hard to make?” 

This shuts everyone up, again passing praises and compliments her way. Once the meal came to a close, it was already well past the kids' bedtime so Clint and Laura took off, followed by Sam and a rather tipsy Wanda. You stayed back to help Natasha clean up, despite her protests. 

“You’re a pregnant woman and I’m already mad enough you did all of this by yourself. You should be ashamed of yourself Barnes, letting your pregnant wife do all the work,” you chastised. 

“Sorry ma’am,” he says, holding his hands up in mock surrender. Steve chuckles but otherwise stays quiet. 

When you’re done with most of the dishes and having packed up the few leftovers, you and Steve take your leave, walking back hand in hand in the silent darkness. 

Your Steve, you know him well. And you can tell, just by one look in his face that there’s a lot on his mind. You know better from experience that when he’s in such moods, it’s best to leave him alone. He’ll tell you what’s on his mind before bed, you know it for sure. 

So for now, you just walk home, swinging your joined hands back and forth as he’s lost in his own head. 

Done getting ready for bed, you slip under the covers, waiting for Steve to join you. You don’t have to wait long, just as you pick up your book for some reading before bed, he slips under the covers, snatching the book from your hand. Your protest is short lived as he pulls you close into a bruising kiss. 

His lips travel down your throat, trailing wet kisses down to your collarbone before you stop him as he moves to pull your silk slip over your head. 

“What’s on your mind? You’ve been quiet all evening,” you grab his cheek in your hand, making him look at you. 

He sighs loudly, moving away to sit back against the headboard. 

“C’mon Steve, tell me.” 

You move closer to him, placing a gentle hand on his shoulder. Just as you’re about to urge him to say something he interrupts you. 

“Let’s have a baby.” 

You’re quiet for a while and he takes your silence as a request to continue. 

“It’s been on my mind for so long. We’ll start with one. For now. I can’t wait for our home to be filled with little ones. I just —I’ve been thinking of this for so long. The fact that Nat and Bucky are expecting just solidified my decision. Don’t you want a baby?” 

Swallowing, you plan out your words carefully before opening your mouth. 

“We’re not ready Stevie. You know this. We’ve been married what, a year now? I thought we decided to wait,” you try. 

“But I don’t want to wait anymore! Can’t you see? There’s no time like now to start trying,” he raises his voice and you flinch away from him. 

“I don’t know Stevie. I’m really tired, we’ll talk about this tomorrow, okay?” 

“No!” He shouts, “I want to talk about this now. We’re ready. I know we’re ready,” he reaffirms, grabbing you by your arms to hold you close. 

“Steve, we’re not. We’re nowhere ready for a baby. We’ve just begun saving, can we even support a child right now?” You try to make him see some sense but it backfires tremendously. 

“Really? I work so hard for you, for us, but that’s not enough for you, is it? You’re such an ungrateful little bitch, aren’t you?” His tone and his hurtful words immediately cause your eyes to fill, a couple errant tears slipping down. His grip on you is painful, almost bruising.

At the sight of your eyes brimming, tears streaking their way down your pretty face, his anger dissipates and his face fills with worry. He moves forward to cup your face in his hands, but you flinch away from him, pulling the covers back and stepping out of bed with your pillow in hand. 

“I-uh- I’ll take the couch,” you stutter out, sniffling between every word. 

“No, no, no. Baby I’m so sorry, I didn’t mean it. I’m so sorry, please come back to bed,” he says, scrambling out of bed as you continue towards the door. 

“No, please baby. I’m sorry, please come back to bed,” he pleads, getting on his knees in front of you, wrapping his strong arms around your waist and holding you in place, his chin resting on your soft stomach. 

He looks up at you with eyes quickly filling with tears, threatening to overflow. Your heart melts at the sight and you close your eyes, nodding your head slowly and he sighs, burying his face into your stomach, his tears causing your slip to dampen slightly. 

“I’m so sorry baby, I didn’t mean it. I’m so sorry,” his voice comes out muffled but you understand him anyway. 

You nod your head, telling him you’ll think about kids. You really would. That night he held you close after making love to you, almost as if he was afraid you’d slip out into the darkness in the middle of the night. He whispered the deepest of apologies and praises into your ear as he drew orgasm after orgasm from your prone body. 

You knew he regrets what he said. You were well aware that he wanted a big family. Growing up, it had always been just him and his Ma. His father was hardly ever home and when he was, he was too drunk to care about much. He aspired to be everything that his father wasn’t, a real family man. 

And you know you want to give him that but you need some time, you haven’t even been married that long. And you will think about it much more seriously now. What’s wrong with having a child? He works so hard for you, to make sure you’re not left needing anything, can’t you do at least this much for him? You’re home all day anyway, it’s not like you have a job like Nat. Plus, you’re lucky to have him and that he cares about you and what you want. Most men wouldn’t have bothered asking their wives if and when they wanted children. You find your resolve weakening. You will tell him that you’re ready to start trying and it’s unlikely you will fall pregnant on the first try. You have some time, you tell yourself all the while trying to smother that voice inside you that whispers, ‘You should wait’. 

[guess-my-next-obsession]

The Babysitter

pairing: pre-outbreak! joel x babysitter!reader

rating: E (18+ ONLY, smut under cut, age gap (Joel’s 32, reader is 25), fwb to lovers, unprotected piv, creampie, joel has feeeeeeelings, soft ending)

word count: 1.2k

joel masterlist

“Quiet, baby,” Joel shushed into your ear as he fucked into you on your side, his back like a wall behind you. Your whimpers were breathless as he kept grinding his cock deep inside of you, slowly stroking against every good nerve until you were dizzy. “That feel good?”

“So good,” you whined, turning your head to meet his lips. Joel groaned into your mouth as he gripped your hip, holding you in place while his thrusts grew harder and faster. He caught every moan that tore from your chest, giving them right back to you as you drenched him in your arousal.

“Shit,” he hissed, pulling away from your lips and dragging his kisses to your shoulder as he hiked your leg to drape over his hip, spreading you open for him. He lifted two of his fingers to your lips and you sucked them into your mouth, getting them nice and wet before he plucked them free and lowered them to your clit. Your strangled cry was caught in your chest as he started to circle your swollen bud in time with his sharp, punctuated thrusts. “Pussy is so perfect…so wet for me.”

“You feel so fu-ucking good, Joel,” you whispered your praise. Joel smiled against your shoulder as he rested his cheek against it, using all his energy and strength to fuck you like it was the last time he’d ever get the chance. “Shit—gonna cum soon…cum with me, baby.”

“Fuck—inside?” he gasped, the fluttering of your walls turning him feral. “Fuck, you sure baby?”

“Yes,” you begged in a dazed whimper, your high slowly trickling down your spine, pulling you into bliss. Joel muffled his growls by burying his face in your neck, keeping you close to him as he spilled inside of you with his arm wrapped around your body. “Fuck,” he panted, kissing your pulse. “Felt so good, baby.”

“You’re telling me,” you beamed as you turned around, forcing his cock to slip out. Joel pouted at the loss of your warmth but hummed once you laid your head against his chest, proud of the quick thump in his chest that your presence caused. “I hope I wasn’t too loud.”

“No, you were good,” he assured, trailing his fingertips up and down your spine.

“I should probably get going,” you sat up, Joel’s chest still heaving as he watched you climb out of his bed and get dressed. “Don’t want Sarah to catch us.”

“Yeah,” he held his tongue and agreed with you even though every bone in his body felt sure that whatever was happening between the two of you was much bigger than this fantasy of a casual hookup the two of you originally embarked on.

You’d been Sarah’s babysitter for a little less than a year, meeting Joel through his younger brother Tommy who you’d known from your bartending days. Now a twenty-five year old without purpose, you were quick to accept the side-gig watching Joel’s ten-year old daughter on school nights until Joel came home.

Sarah was a quick witted, mature, easy to handle kid. The job could hardly be counted as work, the two of you enjoying each other’s company as though you were friends. It almost felt wrong to charge Joel ten dollars an hour to spend time with her, but he insisted.

At some point, your bond with Sarah began to extend to her father, as well, fleeting greetings turning into late-night conversations that turned into you underneath him, his hips fucking you into his mattress. The evolution happened so subtly and quickly that you hardly even had time to think about the repercussions of your situationship until you’d already grown too invested, your heart now requiring a dose of him a day to function.

“What…” Joel’s trailed off thought brought your eyes to his as you buttoned your jeans, your head tilting at him as encouragement to continue. “What do you think about us…you know…tellin’ Sarah?”

“Joel,” you sighed, shaking your head. “I don’t want to lose her and I feel like she’s going to feel betrayed. Like we’ve been sneaking around behind her back. And we are, you know? I just…it’s easier to keep it simple.”

“This doesn’t feel simple,” he disagreed with an exhale, his hands running over his face. “It’s not normal to do this. It’s not healthy.”

“Correct me if I’m wrong but you did start this,” you countered, defensive over nothing as your stomach filled with anxiety. You didn’t want to lose Sarah by telling her, but you also didn’t want to lose Joel by refusing to.

“Yeah, I started it, and I’m trying to keep it going.” He climbed out of bed and tugged on a pair of sweats. You looked longingly at him across the room, wanting to comb your fingers through his bed head. “I can’t keep actin’ like I don’t want more.”

“I want more too, but—“ you sucked your teeth, frustrated by the lack of options presented to you. “She’s like family to me.”

“I know,” he sighed and nodded, hands on his hips as he hung his head.

A couple quick knocks to Joel’s bedroom door had the two of you shutting up, your eyes wide as you looked at each other with dread before looking at the clock reading 7:00 a.m., Sarah’s wake-up time for school.

“Shit.” Joel cursed as ordered you to hide in his en-suite as he opened the door. “Morning, baby girl.”

“I was gonna start on breakfast,” she tried to peek around her father’s body but he moved with her. “Relax dad, I know."

“Know what?” he feigned ignorance.

“Pancakes or waffles?” Sarah called past her father, the sound of your name falling from her lips making you feel dread and then relief. There wasn’t any of the anger you expected laced in it, only amusement.

“Waffles, but I’ll come help.” You emerged with a timid smile, Sarah’s grin smug as she looked up at her blushing father.

“Know what?” Sarah mocked her father as she headed downstairs, Joel’s head shaking at her impression.

“Well,” you earned his attention, biting your lip. “Guess that’s out of the way now.”

“Does it change things for you?” he asked, his eyes bouncing across your features in hopes of discovering the truth of your feelings.

“What do you say you and I go out on a real date one of these days?” you suggested, poking his stomach. Joel chuckled and nodded, pulling you close and resting his hands on your hips as he leaned in for a sweet kiss.

“Gotta find a new babysitter, I suppose.”

“Or just bribe Tommy,” you suggest, smiling into the kiss.

“That’ll work just fine.”

[skrrts]

who said we can't be sad & silly? (one-shot) ;

✧ reader x seonghwa ✧ genre: nonidol, slice of life, fluff, pre est., cheer up ✧ word count: 1,5k ✧ warnings: small mention of feeling insecure & disappointed

another failed job interview and while you can't hide your disappointment, seonghwa decides to surprise you with a lego build and the two of you act just a little silly to cheer you up

a/n: something silly and short for @solaris-amethyst because interviewing for a job is always so challenging 🥺 ; all fluff just two adults being silly

The bus was fifteen minutes late, and you felt like you’d hit rock bottom. The dirty sky, the clouds promising rain when you didn't have an umbrella, and two boys whispering to each other because you stood there all dressed up, waiting for public transport, it made you feel out of place even more.

You really just preferred to get one of those copy-paste messages that didn’t bother with your name or got it wrong.

“We are sorry to inform you that we decided to go with another applicant…”

By now, you knew the headline meant another rejection because winners got phone calls, not quick, impersonal messages sent to those who wasted time applying for jobs they didn’t even want but needed, bills needed to be paid. Many companies didn’t even bother with that anymore.

You dreaded job interviews, not because you had to dress up and pretend to be your best self for an hour, but because of the growing hopeful feeling that this would be the one, only to have them realize you weren’t right after you got comfortable. You noticed the small indicators: how the job description changed, the friendly tone becoming rushed, and them looking over your resume repeatedly instead of talking to you, asking unnecessary questions already answered in your application just to get the time and excuse themselves.

Today was one of those days. The hiring manager didn’t consider that the department head only wanted someone with years of experience, which you didn’t have because nobody was willing to give you a chance to prove yourself.

text to hwa♡: i finally understand those angry people on TikTok we keep joking about text to hwa♡: we should start charging HR for every minute they waste, like a stupid amount of money text to hwa♡: for them, applicants are just an extra coffee break, but what about our time?

You hated to whine to your boyfriend, but he was the only one who didn’t judge. It was hard to explain to your parents, who had held the same jobs for longer than you’d been alive, how tough the job market was now. All they saw were reports about empty positions nobody wanted. 'How hard could it be?'

Raindrops finally started to fall, but at least your bus arrived, and you got a window seat. You looked at your phone, but there was no message from Seonghwa. Of course, he was likely on his way home too. You were glad he enjoyed his job at the daycare so much and that the kids loved him. How couldn’t they?

It was thanks to your four-year-old niece that you met this wonderful man. When your brother was late from work and you, still a student with free time, helped out, Seonghwa was the teacher who stayed late to wait with your niece until she was picked up.

It was the third time when you came that Seonghwa finally asked for your number, then you had coffee, and the rest was sweet history. It was more tempting to think about that memory than the job interview.

The way home wasn’t too bad, but you wondered if you looked as pitiful as you felt when you kicked off your shoes and dropped your coat and bag by the door without bothering to put them away.

“What a... argh!”

“Hey, no cursing!”

You jumped when a voice answered you. Seonghwa’s face appeared, leaning back. He was serious about the no-cursing rule, trying to get his five-year-olds to stop cursing because they picked it up from their parents. He also stuck with that rule at home.

“Hwa!” You kept forgetting you gave him a key for your ten-month dating anniversary a few weeks ago.

His face softened. “I’m sorry. It’s a habit!” His words hinted he felt bad, and you hurried to shake your head.

“No, no! It’s okay! I was just startled. What are you doing here? I thought you had the closing shift at the daycare today.”

Seonghwa mumbled, obviously hiding something. “Oh yes! I mean, I was supposed to, but someone asked if I could switch with them, doing opening hours instead.”

As you came closer, he stood up quickly, trying to hide something.

“Well, it was good timing! We can spend time together. I took the day off tomorrow, so we can stay up late, watch the third season of Bridgerton, and sleep in. I’ll bring you breakfast in bed, and we can do some home wellness. I still have that set Yeosang gifted me for my birthday.”

God, how was he so sweet?

Hwa was rambling, sincere but clearly trying to buy time. There was a hint of guilt, knowing he likely took the day off because of you. He always worried when you were sad and hated leaving you alone.

“I’d like that, sounds nice. I actually bought some ice cream when the weather announced it would get hot this weekend. Perfect for a lazy evening on the couch.”

Seonghwa walked towards you as you tried to see what he was hiding. Before you knew it, you were in his embrace. Without hesitation, you wrapped your arms around him and sighed, your face against his shoulder.

It wasn’t like you were about to cry, but being held like that helped more than any optimistic message from well-meaning friends who didn’t understand constant rejection. They all got the job of their dreams so quickly, unlike you.

“Don’t be too hard on yourself. It’s not easy, but it’s on them if they couldn’t properly advertise their offer and put someone clueless on the job. What does that say about the company?”

Seonghwa leaned back, cupping your face, and looked at you with love and adoration. You never knew how he did it, being so gentle and patient, never losing faith. There had been moments when you saw it crumble, but in a relationship, both sides needed to show it, knowing the other would be there to pick it up. He could count on you always.

“I really thought this time might be it because they invited me within two days and didn’t let me wait a month like the previous one…”

“I know, and there are no words to make it feel better, but I have an idea how to cheer you up a little.”

The small grin on Seonghwa’s lips was too cute, like he was proud of his idea and likely put in a lot of effort.

“Is that so? Should I be worried or excited?” you chuckled.

He waved, pressing a quick kiss on your lips as he took your hands and led you to the living room to show you what he was hiding.

“I think you’ll appreciate it.”

He led you to the circular carpet in the middle of your small living room.

There, with great love for detail, Seonghwa had built a small office room out of Legos. From shelves to a desk with a computer and an extra table where two figures sat, nothing was missing. One figure was a cute orange cat, likely meant to be you, and the other was an angry-looking Lego figure with fangs, probably added with a marker.

Seonghwa smiled as you couldn’t hold back a soft laugh.

“Is this the evil interviewer?” you asked, picking up the figure.

Seonghwa took the cat, wiggling it cutely. It must be one of his Animal Crossing figures. You knew how much he loved and took care of his collection, so bringing one here meant a lot.

“Exactly! Look how he’s naturally evil! His job is to disappoint others! He just calls them in to say, ‘Oh, you really thought you’d get this job?’” His voice deepened as he voiced the Lego figure.

“That’s so mean! What do they do about it?”

Seonghwa chuckled and pulled out a small pink bunny, giving you the other. “Well, the cat has this cute friend who’s always there for them! Together, they tear down the office, so the evil guy also loses his job and feels really bad about it!”

The bunny figure kicked off the little laptop on the table and made a victorious sound.

“Just like that! What can he do about it? Nothing, because these two are the best team! You should try it! Very freeing, no holding back, tear it down.”

You looked at Seonghwa, who was all in his element. The time and effort he put in made your heart swell with appreciation.

“Okay!” You winked and had the cat hit the little chair until it fell over.

“Just like that!” he cheered. “Let it all out, the anger and frustration. Lego man deserves it!”

The two of you acted like kids on the beach, tearing down a sandcastle you’d built for hours just for that very purpose. When only blocks remained, Seonghwa pulled you onto his lap and sighed.

“How are you feeling, love?”

There was still concern in his eyes, but you shook your head.

“Better, a lot. Thanks to you. Did I ever tell you how amazing it is to date someone working in daycare who lets me be so silly?”

You could see he was a little flustered by the compliments.

“Ah, it’s nothing! I just don’t want you to feel sad. It’s not easy, but I’m here with you, always. It’s also safer than angry TikTok videos, though I see the temptation.”

Your head rested against his shoulder, and you looked at each other, but then your thoughts took over, being silly.

“I feel like those angry Lego videos could be a viral hit too, don’t you think?” you joked, then blinked.

“Should I set it up again?”

Seonghwa smirked.

“Just watch! Cat and Bunny will avenge all those poor applicants who faced evil recruiters online! It will be a hit!”

[wordsaresimple-imnot]

Green Dress - Bill Guarnere x F!Reader

Summary: Easy Company hits the town for a much needed night of fun and relaxation in Paris. Reader, who's always in regular military wear and very tomboy, decides to dress up for the night and receives varying reactions from the boys.

Warnings: 18+ content, cursing, oral (f receiving), 1st person female POV (no use of y/n), I think that's it.

A/N: I have the biggest respect for the real life heroes of WWII (and all other wars, past & current), this work & all other works is based on the actor(s) and character(s) portrayed in the Band of Brothers series.

A/N pt2: This is my first time writing any type of explicit sexual scene, let me know what y'all think. As usual likes, comments, and reblogs give me love. Enjoy!!

------------------------------------------------------------------------------

I look at myself in the mirror and can't decide if I like what I see or should call the whole night off and stay in bed. I've styled my hair in a simple design, flowy but still away from my face. Light make-up highlights my eyes, cheeks and lips; just enough to make everything pop without being over the top. My hands run down my dress, picking away invisible lint. It's a deep, gorgeous green that almost shimmers in the light, falling just above my knee in a way that would cause outrage back home but is just this side of acceptable in Paris.

Ah, screw it. Let's have some fun. With a final twirl, I flash myself a smile and excite my hotel room to meet the guys downstairs. I stop briefly at the top of the stairs and look at the group waiting for me. We've been through a lot together; Toccoa, Sobel, jumping (literally) into Normandy, countless battles won and lost, losing fellow brother's, etc. Never once did they make me feel alienated or less than, each providing different facets of friendship and overall making a family.

In a weird way I was nervous to have them see me so feminine and semi dolled up. I've never wore anything other than the standard OD uniforms and was always down for "boy activities" in the down times. I was constantly referred to as "one of the boys" and never really cared until this moment. I was worried my effort would be turned into a joke. Just once I'd like them to see me as an actual woman. Well, at least one of them to anyways.

Just as I started my decent towards them, Luz catches sight of me and gives a loud whistle before beginning to clap. This catches the others attention and pretty soon the lobby is filled with whistles and claps until I reach the bottom of the stairs. I give them all an embarrassed smile, fully aware that my face is burning a deep red and I'm fighting the urge to run back upstairs and hide.

"Lookin' good kid!" Toye comes up and gives me a small kiss on my cheek, smiling as he motions for me to twirl around. I do a small spin, setting off the whistles and claps again.

"Oh, stop you hound dogs." I laugh lightly, waving my hands at them to quiet down.

"You knew a lady was underneath all those clothes and dirt." Luz shoots me a cheeky smile, grabbing my hand and giving it a kiss. I flip him off once he releases my hand, making him laugh. "There she is!"

"Alright let's get out of here, I'm dying for a drink." I start to make my way through the group to the exit. This causes a small, playful scuffle to erupt as some of the guys move towards me to grab my hand and be my escort. In the end Liebgott wins, shooting everyone a smile and me a wink. As we all spill out into the streets in search of the bar, my eyes briefly connect with Bill and I'm left wondering what's caused the frown on his face.

Two hours later, I'm on my fourth beer and loving the buzz I'm feeling. I've just finished another turn around the dance floor, being passed between Tab, Luz, Bull, and even Martin joined for a few beats. Needing to catch my breathe, I settle on a barstool and wait for my water to arrive. Before my water can get there, a few shadows come up to my side. Expecting it to be some of my group, I spin around with a wide smile and am met with three strangers faces.

"Oh, sorry. I thought you were part of my Company." I give a small laugh, slightly embarrassed. The one closest to me just smiles and shakes his head slightly.

"No need to apologize ma'dam, if you'll have us we'd like to keep you company though." His English was nearly perfect, made sweeter by his French accent. What's the harm in a little flirting?

With a soft smile, I extend my hand out to them and give my name. They each take turns telling me theirs and giving my hand a kiss afterwards. While definitely being more flirty than I imagined they'd be, they were pleasant enough to talk to and even made me laugh a few times. When a new song started to play Pierre, the first one to speak to me, asks if I'd like to dance and I agree.

We are halfway through the song, having a really good time, when someone taps Pierre's shoulder. To my shock and confusion, there was Bill. He looks like he is holding himself back from killing Pierre, for what reason I have no clue.

"Mind if I cut in." It was a statement, flat out. No room for but's or giving a raincheck. I see Pierre is ready to go toe to toe with Bill, but that is a fight he'd never win and I don't want the night to turn sour.

I pat Pierre's shoulder and tell him it was alright and I've had a lovely time. He looks skeptical at Bill, but gave me a perfect smile mirroring my sentiments and gave my hand a final kiss as he walks back to his friends. Without wasting anytime, Bill grabs the hand that was just kissed and tugs me flush against him.

It takes a few seconds to get into a comfortable rhythm after that awkward start, whatever the hell that was, but we manage and are soon swaying between the other dancing partners. I was torn between reveling in the feeling of the heat of his hand on my waist and the skin to skin contact of our hands, and how confused and frustrated I am with how he acted.

"I don't know why you did that. Pierre was a nice guy." I speak low enough so the words stay just between us and can't float out to the Easy boys that seem to be watching us with barely concealed interest. They must have witnessed the exchange too.

Bill scoffs and his hand squeezes my waist for a half second. "Pierre. What kinda name is that for a man. Fucking French." I shoot him a small glare.

"Don't be rude. He was a gentleman." Bill rolls his eyes at me then spins me out then back in.

"Gentleman my ass. He was only interested in getting to know you because you're looking like a lady."

His words turn my body into stone and I frown up at him. "Looking like... Fuck you." I rip my hand out his and push him slightly, it doesn't do more than make him shuffle his feet but it's definitely got his attention.

"What the hell is your problem?" His jaw is set and his eyes are burning daggers at me.

"My problem? I don't have a problem. What's your problem? I'm not some dumb little girl that doesn't know what men are like. I know he was flirting with me, hoping for me to go off with him. He wasn't going to get anything, but guess what...I liked the attention! I liked having someone notice that I'm a woman and reminding me that I can be desirable. I'm not just looking like a lady, I am a damn lady you asshole." With a final shove, I turn on my heel and leave the bar before him or anyone else can try and stop me.

I'm halfway down the street, heading to the hotel, when I hear someone jogging behind me. I decide to ignore them and pray it's someone wanting to get someplace fast and not actually coming to talk to me or convince me to come back. Sadly, my prayers are not answered as a hand grabs hold of my elbow spins me around. I'm once again face to face with Bill.

"I don't want to talk to you anymore." I growl out, trying to yank my arm back to no avail.

"You don't gotta talk, just listen. I need to set some things straight." He's using his stern, Sergeant voice, and normally that'd have me blushing but I'm too angry for it to have it's usual effect on me right now.

"No thanks, I've heard enough for the evening." I make another attempt to pull my arm out, but he just pulls me closer and wraps his arms around me arms and waist, pining me against him. All I can do is glare.

Bill scans the sidewalk and road quickly, slightly nodding to himself as he makes some internal decision and lifts me off the ground, walking us a little ways into an alley to our right. We are far enough in that no one can stumble upon us easily but we can still get some of the street light so it's not pitch black.

"What the hell Bill? Have you become a psycho killer?" I push a little away from him, but that only presses me against the alley wall. He uses this to his advantage by taking a step forward, caging me between him and the wall. My brain short circuits a little at being so close to him.

"You're wrong." When he doesn't immediately continue, I raise an eyebrow hoping to encourage him to elaborate. After a few more seconds he continues. "We know you're a lady. The whole damn battalion knows you're a lady. Wearing OD's doesn't hide the shape of your ass when you bend over to help with the car engines or the outline of your breasts when you take your jacket off to cool down. All you have to do is glance around and you'll see the boys drooling all over themselves staring at you." His hand lands on my hip and squeezes. Hard.

I have to take a few deep breathes to steady myself before formulating a response. "If that's true, then what was the big deal about those guys flirting with me tonight?"

"Because they don't know what everyone in the battalion knows. You're my girl. It's one thing to have the boys dance with you or give you compliments, they'd never cross that line or I'd kill 'em. Those French twats wanted to cross that line." I barely registered anything after his declaration: my girl. His girl.

"You're girl?" My words come out in a whisper. Bill's face finally starts to soften and an easy smile starts to spread across his face.

"You really are oblivious. It's the worst kept secret in Easy Company. You drive me fucking crazy, sweetheart. Gorgeous, funny, sweet, and just the right mixture of feminine and tomboy. Everything I've ever dreamed of. And you're wrapped up like a damn present in this dress and I've been dying to get it open all night." By the time he's done speaking his mouth is a hairs breathe away from mine, eyes searching mine for any sign of rejection.

All words have left me so I decide to respond with action and close the distance between us. What starts out as gentle and timid, quickly transforms to rough and frenzied. Bill gives my bottom lip a bite, causing me to gasp and allowing him access into my mouth. I don't bother putting up a fight, I'm putty in his arms and give him full dominance. The hand not squeezing my hip so hard I know there will be some type of bruise, grasps the back of my neck and angles my head to the side to give him better access.

My hands have made their way up his chest, to his shoulders, and finally still with one in his hair and the other at the back of his neck. When the need for air becomes to much for me, I turn my head slightly to the side and break the kiss. Bill's breathing just as heavily as I am, but doesn't stop his assault. He moves my head again and starts trailing kisses up and down my neck, alternating between nips and licks based on my reactions. When he hits a particular sweet spot, I can feel him grin before biting there again hard enough to leave a mark.

"Fuck." I moan out, scratching the back of his neck. "That's gonna be hard to hide." With a final kiss on the new mark, Bill lifts his head to meet my eyes. His eyes are dark with lust and he can't stop smiling.

"That's the point, sweetheart." I roll my eyes at him, but smile back.

"If you get to mark me, I think it's only fair I get to mark you."

"Baby, you can do whatever you want to me. I'm yours." His voice is so deep, it makes my legs shake and I'm instantly happy I have that wall to hold me.

"I think you owe me an apology for what you said to me at the bar before I decide what I wanna do you with you." I mean more as a joke, but he seems to really be thinking about. Before I can reassure him that I'm not upset anymore, he gives me a kiss that has me seeing stars.

Before it leads to another make-out session, Bill breaks away from my mouth, trails kisses down the other side of my neck and then suddenly drops to his knees in front of me.

"What are you doing?" The situation wasn't bad enough to do this.

"I'm apologizing." Bill's eyes are so dark they could pass for solid black and his voice is deep and sensual. My response is cut short as I feel his hands run up my legs, going under my dress and grasp my thighs. With a smirk, he slowly finishes his trek to my underwear and starts pulling them down.

"Bill." I don't know if I say his name to make him stop or because I'm praising him. Either way, I have nothing to follow it up with. He keeps his eyes on me as I shift my feet helping him get my underwear completely off, noticing that he stuffs them in his pocket.

"Just lean back and enjoy baby. Be a good girl and hold this for me." He pushes my dress up to my waist, waiting for me to take hold of it. Good girl, Jesus.

"Sir, yes, sir." I take note of the tightening of his jaw and how his eyes somehow become even darker. There's something to explore later.

Bill grabs hold of my thigh and drapes it over his shoulder, trailing soft kisses on the inside. As he gets closer to my center, he bites and sucks a mark just for us to know about. A small moan escapes and my unoccupied hand lands in his hair. Before the sting has completely faded from his bite, I'm taken over by the sensation of his tongue gliding through my folds.

The only sounds to be heard is our combined groans, my heavy breathing, and his tongue working me like a man starved. His hand not holding my thigh in a death grip, maneuvers around to spread me more open for him and I nearly pass out when he sucks on my clit. I yank on his hair which only seems to spur him on as he starts starts alternating between licking and sucking.

The only words I seem to be able to say is his name and fuck. As my approach to my orgasm comes closer, I'm able to mumble out that I'm close. Bill tabs my thigh to make me look down at him and I nearly cum at the sight.

"Let go, sweetheart. That's an order. Cum. Now." His words, combined with the determined look on his face and a final hard suck on my clit has me falling over the edge chanting his name over and over again.

Bill doesn't let up as my orgasm washes over me, licking and drinking up my release until I start to whimper at the overstimulation. Slowly he places my thigh back on the ground, gently stroking my legs, and tugs my dress back down to cover me again. My hands grip his shoulders as he stands back up and I take in the sight of him. Hair completely wrecked from my fingers, face red from his efforts, breathing heavy and looking like he might drop to knee's to do it all over again.

I grab his jacket and pull him flush against me, kissing him with all the strength I have. He returns the kiss with as much force and pulls my thigh up around his hip, making our hips meet. I moan into the kiss at the feeling of his erection so close to my center and roll my hips to grind against him.

"If you don't stop that, we won't make it back to the hotel." Bill growls between kisses.

"Then you better get us there quickly." I give his lip a quick bite, before a laugh slips out at how fast he starts pulling by the hand back to the sidewalk and towards the hotel.

I think I'll wear this dress more often.

[kiss-theggoat]

Ok okay okay- I’m back and I just have to pitch this idea to you. Don’t feel like you need to write anything for it but I just need to slide this over to you. House of Wax setting again lol- okay so the clothes and outfits- the boys have a lot already from their previous victims. But sometimes they want something a bit different for an exhibit. Enter the S/O. Who’s sitting in the garage with Bo, sowing outfits together for Vincent’s new figures. She can’t be in the basement with Vincent since she needs proper light- but can’t be completely alone since the boys are still, even after years, unsure if she’ll try to leave.

So She’s just there, tongue sticking out as she thoughtfully sows glass beads onto a dress. And if any victims walk through the garage, and ask why she’s sowing in here or what she sowing- she’ll say;

“Oh its clothing for the museum”

“Oh I’m working on one of the girls prom dresses.”

“Oh, one of the old men in town ripped his pants again.”

“I just enjoy the company and music.”

She’s also always repairing the boy's clothes when stuff… happens (cough cough knife and chasing)

Angrily sitting there, sowing up Bo’s shirt and lecturing him. “I just re-did this Bo! Now I have to pause my work on the gown for Vincent.”

-🪴🖤

A/N: Hi hi hi 🪴🖤!! Thanks so much for the request and I love the idea! It’s so cute to think of one of the boys coming up with some clothes that need mending. Anyways, on with the one shot!

The Sinclair Seamstress

Sinclair Brothers One Shot

Summary: You find yourself as the personal seamstress for the Sinclair brothers.

TW: none 🖤

The radio was quiet, filling the kitchen with a soft melody which you hummed along to. You were hard at work at breakfast for the Sinclair brothers, whom you’d become very close to in your year in Ambrose. The toaster popped up beside you, and you held the pan that contained almost nine eggs worth of cheese covered scramble. You’d filled the house with an amazing aroma, mixing cheese and eggs and bacon, and onions in half because Bo and Lester liked onions and Vincent and you didn’t. You smiled as you grabbed the toast, now having two pieces for each of you. You placed the carefully on the plate and then buttered them all before putting the egg scramble between the two pieces, along with three pieces of fresh, crispy bacon.

“Somethin’ smells good.” You heard Bo’s raspy morning voice and it filled your chest with warm honey, making you turn around with his plate in your hands like a little kid presenting a handmade gift.

“Breakfast!” You said happily, setting his plate down where he usually sat, at the head of the table. “Sit.” You said, walking towards the fridge. You wanted to grab out the gallon of orange juice you’d gone so far to buy, but you knew that he’d hound you for a beer, so you skipped the hassle and grabbed one for him. You popped the cap off and set it besides his breakfast. Bo looked up at you with a quaint lopsided smile, which you knew meant he was pleased.

Before you could ask what he had planned for the day, you heard the creaking of the steps and whipped around to see Lester, sliding his loose old button up over one arm. As he moved, you noticed the huge hole near the armpit seam of the shirt.

“Lester, you can’t wear that. It’s falling apart.” You scolded and walked towards him, fingers finding the tear and tracing it.

Lester sighed, “Well I ain’t got another shirt today. It’s fine.”

“I can fix it for you before you leave. Do you have a sewing kit?”

Lester gave you a look with one eyebrow up. “You can sew?”

You smiled and nodded. “Yeah, I used to make my own clothes and stuff. It’s a really easy fix, no time at all.”

“…Well alright. I’m sure we got some sewin’ stuff somewhere.”

And this conversation was how you became a personal seamstress for the Sinclair brothers. You never thought you’d be in this position, living with three men in a town of wax and making clothes for their sculptures. But, here you sat, red fabric draping over your legs as you moved closer to the seams you were sewing. The only downside to this was that they didn’t own a sewing machine, so everything you made had to be by hand. This definitely simplified yours and Vincent’s designs, but you made it work.

The dress you were working on now was for a pretty blonde girl in a classy red cocktail dress. You were excited about the fitted bodice and the slight flare of the knee length skirt. Vincent was particular about this dress, and the girl that was about to become wax didn’t have anything that fit that vision.

You hummed to yourself as you sewed, enjoying the pace of the activity and the feeling of the fabric under your fingers. You were sequestered to your room in the house, locked, because the boys were dealing with a new group in town. But it was already close to two in the morning, so you decided that you’d stay in your room until sunrise and then you’d go out and look for them.

That concern and worry was quickly flushed away by the sound of the front door slamming shut and familiar big boots stomping up the stairs. You ran up to the door and unlocked it, seeing a sweaty but thankfully not injured Bo.

“Oh thank god.” You said, practically tackling him with your arms around his neck. “You scared the shit out of me, Bo.” You whispered. “Where are Lester and Vincent?”

“They’re alright. They’re in the workshop.”

You pulled away from him and nodded, sighing a breath of relief. As you stared at him, subconsciously scanning for injuries and blood like you were used to, you noticed a giant hole through your perfect sewing.

You reached forward and touched the edges of the tear. “Dammit Bo, I just fixed this! You guys can never keep your clothes in shape.”

“Not exactly my fault, darlin’.”

“Take it off. I already have my stuff out.” You grumbled, moving back towards your chair and moving the dress onto your bed.

“We’re gonna have to tell Vincent that this dress is gonna take longer now because I have to fix your shirt for the ninth time. And he also wants me to make a pair of pants for another sculpture, but-“

“You don’t have to fix it, doll.”

“Take your shirt off, Bo.”

Bo slid his button up off and handed it over to you with a sly smile on his face, chuckling a bit at the fact you were so perturbed at the hole in his shirt. You grabbed his shirt and finally your supplies, sitting back down in your chair to begin sewing.

Just then, you heard more footsteps clunk up the stairs. You looked up from your needle to see Vincent and Lester. And even though you were relieved that they were okay, the stack of drawings in Vincent’s hand, surely new clothes for his new sculptures, made you anything but happy.

[bejewelledgirl]

I want to know you more

Summary: You were all alone at a Christmas party getting bored to death, and silently praying for someone to come and save you from it. Well someone did - Vernon, who you're secretly but hopelessly pining over. Let’s see what the night holds for both of them...

Word count: 923

Warnings: Mentions of alcohol and making out

You could vividly remember spending Christmas with your family as a kid and how fun it was. It was easily your favourite time of the year. But as you started to grow, you found Christmas to be overrated. That was the case until now….

You were currently seated in Seungcheol’s house, in a corner which was as secluded as it could be, in a Christmas party thrown by your college seniors. The house was jam- packed with people and though the party was only meant for those who went to your college, there were quite a few faces you could not recognise. The party had everything you see at a regular frat party - loud music, wide variety of both punch and alcohol, couples making out in the kitchen, bathroom - you name it. With all of your friends back at their parents’ house for the break, you felt pathetically lonely.

You did not pay attention to your surroundings though, as you were completely spaced out, pondering upon the reason for your existence.

It had nearly been two hours since you arrived, and you initially made several attempts at talking to several people but after a while your social battery was drained and you were bored to death. You were still spaced out when you felt a hand on your shoulder, you turned around to gaze into the familiar chocolate brown eyes, which you had started to grow fond of. It was Vernon…

He looked extraordinarily attractive in his red t-shirt under his leather jacket paired with skinny jeans and his favourite blue nike shoes. While you were busy checking him out, unbeknownst to you, he too was tracing his eyes over your figure from top to bottom. Well to be fair, you wore a black dress that perfectly accentuated your figure and he rarely saw you in such an attire.

Realising the need to say something after having embarrassingly checked him out, you cleared your throat and greeted him with a shaky voice and also wished him a happy Christmas. Vernon wished you back and added “How are you here at this time ? I thought you went back to your parents’ house like every year.”

“Well I was planning to, but then I found out that mom and dad wanted to visit my brother this time since they hadn’t celebrated Christmas together in so long. And I would feel way too guilty if they couldn’t go because of me. So here I am…” , you explained. Vernon nodded in understanding.

It was a little quiet between you two after this. You two were definitely close but not best friends. You always felt an air of uncertainty and tension when you were around him.

Vernon then rubbed the back of his head and suggested, “Should we move to the yard ? It’s a little too crowded for my taste.” You agreed immediately wanting to escape from the party as soon as possible.

There was no one other than you two, in the yard. You guys took advantage of it and sat down at the chairs. A comfortable silence had developed between the two of you while you both were gazing at the stars above. It was safe to say that both of you were glad to have found each other at the party.

You guys chatted on some more, occasionally sharing movie recommendations and opinions about music, when you felt like it was time for you to leave. You had never been a night owl and it was already almost 12. You bid Vernon goodbye and you were getting up from your seat, when Vernon got up too and took a hold of your wrist.

“Can you stay with me for a little more ?”

“I want to but don’t you think it’s too late now ? I need to work tomorrow as well.”

“It’s just that I really enjoy your company.” Vernon spoke with slight desperation in his voice and a look in his eyes you couldn’t decipher yet.

Astonished at both his confession and the look he gave you, you couldn’t hold yourself back and said “Please don’t look at me like that. It gives me false hope.”

Vernon replied back with a cheeky smile, “Why do you think of it as false hope ? What if I actually like you? What if I want to know you more? What if I want to get closer to you ?” He was gasping for breath now as he had said all of that in one breath.

“Wait are you…” you couldn’t finish before Vernon spoke again, “Yes I want to take you out on a date. I want to do all those things that couples do but only with you. That is, if you let me…” He finished the last sentence with a slight hesitation.

After a moment, you answered with a grin, “All right, but on one condition - we must watch all the movies you recommended today …. together.”

Vernon couldn’t help but let out a giggle, “Of course, anything for you princess.”

Vernon walked you home that night despite you insisting that you’d be fine alone and that it was not far. You guys held hands on the way with blush looming on both of your cheeks. When time came for you to say goodbye to him, you weren’t sad or bitter like you usually were when you had to leave Vernon as you knew that the story of you two had just begun. And you couldn’t wait for what the next day held in store for you two.

Note: If you enjoyed reading this, give me a follow, I will be writing more fics. You can also make requests,

[alltimefail-sims]

I present to you all... Wren's family!

Are you reading The Familiar by @mangosimoothie? You should be reading The Familiar by mangosimoothie and rooting for my baby Wren. (I'm mostly kidding - rooting for Wren is optional, but reading the Familiar is not 😉.)

This was probably self indulgent, and I definitely spent way too much time making them, but even if no one else cares... I'm pleased! I've been wanting to do this for way too long! First we have Wren's father, Dr. Abdou Opara and Wren's mother, Dr. Latita Opara (née Wiley). Then we have Wren's siblings Kingston and Angelique.

Want more info on them or to see their full-body outfits? Fear not...

Many details below the cut! ↓

If you read Wren's original post you already know that Abdou, Wren's father, is a retired engineer and tech investor while his wife, Latita, is the current and very popular mayor of San Myshuno. But I didn't really get to go into detail about Wren's siblings so I'm gonna do that real quick!!

Wren's oldest sibling, Kinston (30 y.o.), has a doctorate from Foxbury in biology, but he was also the captain of the robotics team and has a passion for engineering just like his father. After graduation he combined his two passions and created a bio-tech company that focuses on creating innovations and improvements in the medical field, particularly for surgical procedures and daily disability maneuverability and pain management. Wren thinks he's an absolutely insufferable ego-maniac, but they're not a completely reliable narrator because Kingston's just kind of a nerd with a little bit of a superiority complex (oldest child syndrome), but Wren's parents have always lifted up Kingston as the example and that's annoying as fuck! Oh and if Latita has a favorite child, it's Kingston (she's never proclaimed a favorite out loud but like... it's pretty clear).

Then there's the Opara's middle child, Angelique (27 y.o.), who I promise does not just walk around in pageant crowns and evening gowns (although that would be iconic imo). Although a middle child, Angelique has never had to fight for attention and is Abdou's clear favorite (again he's never said it out loud but like... he's even more obvious). She has a distinguished psychology degree with honors from Foxbury Institute and graduated at the top of her class. The reason she's dressed in pageant-wear is because she recently won the title of Miss America (whatever the sims equivalent is called). She'll be competing for Miss Universe next because she's a bad bitch ig? Lmao. She just is very competitive. Wren thinks Angelique is generally less insufferable than Kingston, but the two of them in a room together is like nails on a chalkboard to Wren. Wren and Angelique are a little closer, but "close" as in like... they get along okay, they'll pick up *if* the other calls, and she nags Wren the least of any of their family members (but that's just because she "has better things to do"). That being said, she does call Wren "baby Wren" which drives them nuts (but she's being affectionate in her own way).

*Fun fact: all of the Oparas are Foxbury alum except for our dear Wren and they never hear the end of it!

*Also a fun fact but, needless to say, Wren's mom doesn't want to end her political career as a mayor: she's working her way up the political ladder to the presidential candidacy, babyyyyy!!! On the flip-side, Abdou has always been a strict parent who cares about "legacy" and that's why they're so anal about protecting the family's public image and why they're especially hard on Wren who thinks all of those things are kind of bullshit.

FINALLY, I do want to note that I didn't include one *technical* family member, Kingston's college sweetheart and fiancé Kasi who Wren actually enjoys being around and thinks is way out of their brother's league.

Anyway okay I'm done now here they are side-by-side as promised:

Irl I imagine their heights to vary (with Wren being taller than their mom but shorter than everyone else) but I was too lazy to use a height slider.

Okay NOW I'm done for real lmao byeeeeeeee

[kalisseo]

BLEACHER CREATURES

last night i finally finished the designs!! wahoo!!

(heights might not be accurate, I didn't know very well how to fit them into the template)

(also warning for long text post)

as in the show, they are a group of outcasts who torment the popular kids and enjoy causing chaos, and they only become a group until s3

in the show it's never stated how they became friends, but I have two ideas, one is that topher created the bleacher creatures as a club, and the other one is that jill and vlad are the ones who do that (or maybe just jill)

either way, topher is their self proclaimed leader and the rest have assigned roles, that doesn't mean he's a real authority to them, or that he thinks they're below him, after all they are a group of friends and they see each other as equals (except for Ivan who's an asshole and it's still not used to women)

topher is the leader and the one that usually makes the final decisions, ivan is kind of his right hand or second in command, Mary is the voice of reason and usually the one that finds a way to make their plans work, both jill and vlad are more like henchmen? I guess, they both propose ideas and are the ones who add more to the plan, and usually the ones to do "the work" because they enjoy that, but vlad is the sentimental or romantic one in the group

this is an established dynamic they're okay with, this doesn't mean it can't change, sometimes one of them can be the leader of the day, usually jill and mary are the ones to take that place when topher doesn't, and ivan tries to but no one listens to him

at first, it was a really awkward friendship, but soon they all got to know each other and bond over being outcasts, and together they all embrace being freaks and being cloned from horrible people in history

vlad, jill and mary usually bond over fashion and do their nails together, or some "girly" stuff, like sometimes doing make up or skin care, Vlad usually only likes having his nails done but makes company to the girls, Topher joins too, to me he would join to the skin care part, but it's mostly there doing company like vlad

Vlad and jill embrace their clone parents legacy in their own way, something they have in common and it's a base of their friendship, and also they both enjoy dressing like their clone parents in their own personal modern way, also they share having niche interests I think, but different ones, jill of course loves every jack the reaper piece of media she can find and horror gory movies, like I said vlad is more romantic and sentimental, and enjoys goth literature, vampires and reading/writing poems

both jill and vlad teach mary how to embrace her clone mother in her own way

but, mary also lived her whole life trying to be her own person, something topher can relate to, she fantasizes a lot with being some kind of main character, and like in the show she has this manic pixie dream girl attitude, but being in the bcreatures made her embrace her more horrible side. she and topher get along because of this, and I think they have similar experiences

ivan and vlad bond over videogames I think, they have a more brothers dynamic, ivan makes fun of him a lot for his "feminine" interests, but that doesn't mean he doesn't try to help him, especially when vlad has a crush (on joan, mind you, that's another whole posts) , he usually thinks Ivan is dumb and doesn't agree with him in a lot of stuff, but appreciates the advice

in general ivan head butts a lot with the rest of the bcreatures, especially jill who tends to talk back in an aggressive way, and he was this close )( to being kicked out if it wasn't because topher wanted to give him a second chance, after all they only have each other. this doesn't mean topher and ivan never argued, they did, and they had a lot of disgraments, but topher is the one who keeps ivan at line, and ivan is trying to have his approval so they get to have a dynamic that works for them and for the rest of the group

ivan doesn't really like the girls that much, specially mary, who jill and vlad consider as the actual second in command, they have some kind of one sided rivalry, one sided because mary doesn't really care about being a leader or being seen as the one in command

topher is closer to ivan and mary, but he still sees jill and vlad as his friends, he admires how they can embrace their clone parents as a part of their identity, and enjoys their company, and likes their spirit for their plans.

so yeah, this is them as a group, in really short words their dynamic is that topher is their dumb leader and the rest his henchmen I guess

i still have to flesh them out individually, so if anyone is interested in one of them feel free to ask!

[garciafamlover500]

Javier Garcia HC's because why not? (Some things are most likely OOC)

Bisexual (Canon), Transmasc and Polyamorous (both HC).

Autistic + hard of hearing (My man shot a gun right beside the same ear TWICE)

Dating tripp and jesus (Tall, big muscles, beards, this man definitely has a type-)

Cat person all the way, can and will adopt any stray cat he sees

He has a massive sweet tooth and his favorite dessert is pudding. But he also loves latino cuisine with his favorites being nachos, Ropa Vieja, Arroz con pollo and Tamales

Can't cook for shit, never let him inside the kitchen

Lets clem and mariana paint his nails, and sometimes he even lets them doll up his face a little

One time, he lost a bet to tripp and conrad during a game and had to wear a dress for the entire day. At first he felt embarrassed as hell, but as time went by he actually grew to enjoy wearing it, heck some people (including david surprisingly) actually complimented him about it! Needless to say, this was when javi realized he was GNC

(Pre transition) Javi used to bind with ace bandages for awhile because he didn’t have enough money to buy a proper binder until David bought one for him

Started taking HRT when he was 16

Hates hot weather and prefers the cold, he loves snuggling up by the fireplace while drinking a nice cup of hot chocolate with his two giant boyfriends

used to hate his freckles because when he was younger some asshole kid called them ugly. However, after a little reassurance from david he started to grow fond of them. Tripp and jesus love planting small kisses on them whenever they get the chance

Had an emo phase when he was in middle school

Has a tooth gap

Taught gabe and mariana how to play baseball when they were little

Infodumps about baseball A LOT, stims in multiple different ways, and whenever he feels overstimulated mariana would usually lend him her headphones and tape player so he could cool off for awhile

Since he’s HOH, they’ll be times when he has difficulty hearing certain things, so he communicates through sign language sometimes

He also uses sign language to communicate whenever he feels over/under-stimulated, this is due to him going nonverbal when overwhelmed or underwhelmed

Does NOT fully forgive Eleanor, and probably won’t be anytime soon

GARCIA BROTHERLY FLUFF TIME!

He and David are slowly staring to rekindle their relationship, they’ll be times when they meet up on one of the rooftops of one of Richmond’s buildings at night and just talk about random stuff, be it from current events or past memories, while staring up at the stars and enjoying each other’s company

One time, some random douchebag kept bothering javi about his past with gambling, and David just walked up to the guy and fucking decks him in the jaw

David tended to tease javi from time to time whenever javi would gush about Jesus and Tripp. And when javi announced he was dating them, David couldn’t help but feel a little overprotective

He and David would speak spanish when having a conversation somtimes

David was the classic older brother when they were growing up: Pranking javi, putting things out of reach for him, calling dibs on everything first, you name it!

I HC that David was actually pretty good at baseball as a kid, that’s one reason why javi really got into it as well

David was the first person javi came out to as trans, bi AND neurodivergent

After the whole new frontier fiasco, David started to have nightmares about nearly killing javi back at the water tower and would wake up screaming his name with tears in his eye. One night javi caught him having one of these nightmares and when he was able to wake him up, David just broke down in his embrace while apologizing over and over again and javi would just hold him and encouraged him to let it all out.

(possible part 2! Let me know what yall think)

[hannahhook7744]

Blood Is Thicker Than Water;

Summary: Everyone knows about Carlos, Diego, Ivy, and Hunter de Vil. But what about the other de Vil cousins? Co written with @dragoneyes618 . Please use clean language when commenting on this fic. Author's Note: The five that go to Auradon are: 1. Carlos de Vil. 2. Mal Bertha Fae-Athanasiou. 3. Princess Geneviève ‘Evie’ Evelyn Grimhilde-Westergaard Of The Southern Isles. 4. Jakeem 'Jay' Al-Jazira. 5. Hannah Artemis Hook. Trigger warnings: Child death, horrible isle conditions, child abuse/neglect, murder, extreme untreated mental health issues, briefly implied cannibalism, etc.

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Hunter was eleven years older than Carlos and the oldest of the de Vil ‘kids’. 

Yet he was the one Carlos related to the most.

They were both the ‘quiet’ de Vils; the nervous wreck de Vils who were less intimidating than a wet paper bag. 

Both of them were the most well known inventors in the family and the ones who found it the hardest to relate to others. Both were claustrophobic (because of Cruella) and both were well-known animal lovers, and barely tried to hide it. 

They were also the de Vils most scared of Cruella.  

The two of them just clicked better together than they did with the rest of their cousins (and siblings, in Carlos’s case). Not to say they didn't like their other cousins, of course. 

They just enjoyed each other's company more. 

It had always been that way. 

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“Book!”

Fourteen year old Hunter sighed, looking up from the radio he was tinkering with and over to the doorway where Carlos was standing tall (well, as tall as a three year old who was barely taller than his one-year old brother could). A determined look on his little face as he struggled to hold up a large book. 

Carlisle was supposed to have put him to bed hours ago. 

The blonde didn't know why he was surprised that the other boy (who was also his age now, wasn't that weird?) didn't. 

Carlisle never did anything anyone other than his mom (and sometimes his siblings) asked him to do because he knew he was Cruella’s favorite and that he wouldn't be getting in trouble for disobeying whoever was in charge. Even if it was Cruella he was disobeying.

Hunter should have known he was asking too much of him when he asked him to put Carlos to bed. That he was taking up ‘dear’ Carlisle’s precious fireworks time by asking him to do what Cruella should have been doing anyway. 

And knowing him, he hadn't put Remi or any of the others to bed, either. 

Great. 

Just great. 

Cruella was gonna kill him. Again. 

“The Tales of Flynnigan Rider again?” Hunter silently promised himself that he'd strangle whoever wrote the stupid book he'd had to read  a million times to his younger cousins and the various kids the de Vil’s various henchmen had had, over the years. 

He was sure he'd never hate any more than he did the book, except for Cruella, of course.

Carlos shook his head. Tapping the book’s cover with the palm of his hand. “Nu-uh! M-mech-an-ics and… and.. mech-a-tisms!” 

It was gonna be a long night. 

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As terrible as it sounded, Carlos hadn't always liked Ivy. 

She was loud and scary at times, bossy and demanding and an all around terror who never hesitated to get into screaming matches with Carlos’s mom. 

Carlos's mom, who terrified him (and some others) more than anything and because of that, Ivy also terrified him. 

She just looked so much like Cruella.

Sure, Ivy had never been violent towards him like his mom had in the past. But she just reminded him of Cruella so painfully that he couldn't help but be scared and run for the hills. 

Her forcing him to play dress up with her in his earliest memories hadn't helped that fear or helped quell the disdain he'd had for her in his youth.

It was a secret that wasn't a secret. 

At one point, Carlos had been sure that no one but him knew that he was afraid of her. Convinced that he'd be able to take that with him to the grave. And then he'd remembered all the hurt looks he'd caught glimpses of on Ivy's face when he'd been so small and so bad at lying and so desperate to avoid spending any time with her—and realized that Ivy, and probably others, had known all along that Carlos hadn't liked Ivy. 

It had changed over the years, of course, when their numbers had started dwindling alongside the Baduns but it wasn't something that could be easily forgotten. It stayed unspoken but it had definitely left a nasty looking spot on their relationship.

Even if they now could talk and laugh with one another over their inventions and outfit designs; Ivy would never forget that Carlos had been afraid of her.

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Carlos cried a lot as a baby; cried and cried until he couldn't anymore. Until he was red in the face and couldn't breath. 

He cried. 

And he'd cry worse when Ivy tried to soothe him. 

Kicking and flailing and choking until Hunter or one of the other de Vil (or henchmen) kids came to get him away from her. 

Carlisle thought it was funny. 

Ivy didn't. 

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Hunter and Ivy told Carlos separately. 

Some parts were easier for one of them to say than others. So they took turns.

“You’re going to Auradon, you should know this,” was the explanation, like Carlos wouldn’t be running off to talk to Diego the first chance he got.

If he had time, that was. 

Enough time before he left.

It made sense. 

It explained the nightmares both Hunter and Ivy had; they’d both woken up screaming too many times to deny it. It explained why their birth dates didn’t quite match up to their exact ages.

 It explained the strange, almost otherworldly feel they had sometimes, a feeling they shared with all those who had been brought back from the dead prior to being imprisoned on the Isle, but that no other members of their generation—not Carlos’ generation, but the generation older than him, the one consisting of the children who had been exiled to the Isle with their parents—shared.

Ivy had been dead. 

Hunter had been dead.

Two more of the people who had helped him build his tree house as a child had been dead.

Ivy had been six. Hunter had been twelve, just a couple of years younger than he was now.

They’d been resurrected and sent to the Isle, just like everyone else. 

What would it have been like? To be dead, cold and lifeless, childhood and life abruptly cut short, only to be thrust gasping and breathless into the world of the living years later, at the exact age you were when you had died?

“Do you…remember anything?” was the first question Carlos asked after Ivy finished, both of them sitting with their legs dangling off the edge of the roof.

“Not really,” Ivy said, and then sighed. “Sort of. It’s complicated. I can’t really explain it….Hunter’s the same way.”

She moved her hand in a vague, all–encompassing gesture. “Like I remember—sort of—shadowy shapes, but not anything clear. Strange lights. Colors that don’t exist. Sometimes I dream about it, but I can’t remember it when I wake up. I remember best when I’m half awake, or just about to fall asleep. If I try to remember more, if I think really hard about it, it’s like…it’s like I’m not supposed to remember more. Like there’s this—this barrier, I guess, stuck in my head, and if I ever got past it it would be….”

“Bad,” Carlos supplied.

“Yes.” She looked lost for a moment. “I’m sorry. I wish I knew more…well, sometimes I wish I knew more. I know it’s not what you wanted. I can’t tell you anything about what it’s like for them.”

Like all of his cousins, Ivy knew him better than anyone else did. The de Vils were very good at reading each other, at seeing what they didn’t say, knowing each other’s history and body language, the way they thought, the way they dreamed… 

Them . 

Both of Carlos’ sisters, each of them bearing the same name, neither of them ever knowing the other.

Carlotta.

Lotta , he’d called both of them. While their family generally didn’t do nicknames—at least, he’d never known anyone except his mother and P.H to allow themselves to be called by one—he’d called his sisters ‘Lotta’.

According to Ivy, in a much different heart-to-heart years ago, another rare occasion she’d opened up, when he’d been learning to talk he couldn’t fully pronounce his older sister’s name. He’d been able to manage Lotta, but not Carlotta. And so he’d called her Lotta.

She’d been three years older than him, and he never remembered being alone.

She’d always been there for him. She’d been the one to look after him, much more than their mother had been, and they’d both preferred it that way. Most of his early memories consisted of him following her around wherever she went.

He’d adored her.

She was gone when he was seven. He came home one day and she had vanished. 

Asking his mother yielded no answers, even when it was Hunter or Cecil. There had been no sign of her. To this day, there still had not been.

She was dead. 

She must be.

Carlos knew it in his bones.

While it wasn’t unheard of, on the Isle, for children as young as she’d been—she’d always seemed so mature and capable in his eyes, and it was always with a small shock whenever he realized that he was now several years older than she’d ever been—or even as young as Carlos had been to run away, or to be left orphaned, to be homeless and alone, she wouldn’t have left without him.

 She wouldn’t have left him alone. Even if the others had refused to go (but they wouldn't have. None of the living ones would have refused to leave, even Diego with the parents he'd loved so much. Even the Baduns would have gone if she'd asked, which she never did because she didn't run away— ). 

There were many ways for people to disappear on the Isle. Half of them would barely even need any sort of special effort.

People who disappeared on the Isle, with a few rare exceptions, were generally never found again. Not alive, at least. If you ever got lost—well, if you weren’t found again after a few hours you’d be lucky if your body was.

Especially with the witches on Cannibal Cove around. 

Carlotta had been one of those who was never found. There’d been no signs, no traces. No body, no blood, no footprints, nothing. It was like she’d ceased to exist…..at least, his mother pretended so.

His little sister had been born eight months later—the second Carlotta.

Mother hadn’t bothered taking care of the baby. She’d barely ever noticed her. It had been Carlos at the age of eight who had scrounged and searched for milk and formula, Carlos who had woken up every time she cried, Carlos who had named her.

( Just like his cousins and siblings before him, when adults weren't capable of doing so for him and the others). 

He’d named her Carlotta, the only name he could think of, the name of the sister whose presence was always on his mind, whom he desperately missed.

She’d been such a sweet little girl.

She’d been very quiet, of course, in a way that growing up with Cruella as your mother warranted, quieter even than him. Which was funny, in a way, because his older sister had never seemed meek or quiet to him. He had a vivid memory of her standing on her tiptoe while she and Ivy shouted at each other…about what, he’d forgotten, and he wasn’t going to ask Ivy.

But maybe it was the way of older siblings to go out of their comfort zones for their younger siblings. He certainly had for little Lotta. Would she have remembered him as he thought of himself —shy and timid? Or as someone who spoke up for her when it was needed, who shielded her from the worst Mother and the Isle had to offer?

He hoped the latter.

Then again, it wasn’t like he’d actually been able to do anything for her when it mattered, had he?

She’d always been in delicate health. She was small for her age, just like him. Oh, she was healthy, and could run and jump and clap like he imagined carefree Auradon children doing. But she was susceptible to illness, always came down with every little cough and sniffle that made its way around. He’d spent many nights awake at her bedside, trying to cool a fever or get her to drink as she shivered, wracked by chills.

It hadn’t been sickness that had killed her last year, but it certainly hadn’t helped.

When he was twelve years old, he’d gotten his leg caught in one of Mother’s bear traps. He still had a slight limp. Carlotta, four years old, had run to get Hunter and Ivy. As he lay in bed recovering —the week following was the only time he remembered ever being exempt from his mother’s long list of chores—he’d heard his uncle Cecil shouting at his mother—his only memory of Cecil ever raising his voice—that those traps were going to get someone killed one day.

Well, he’d been right. Twice. 

He’d been able to survive the pain, the shock, the blood loss, even the infection. A little girl like his sister (and a little boy like Joseph Badun)? Not so much.

The house now reminded him of the months after his older sister’s death—eerily silent, Mother’s unhinged laughter echoing from the corners, ghostly visions of long hair and dark eyes in the shadows. Seeing her everywhere and nowhere, because she was gone. Gone, to that place Ivy and Hunter had been in.

Ivy and Hunter were alive again. None of his siblings or the Badun kids (or the various other children of his mother’s henchmen who'd died in those very halls or this dratted Isle) had been given the same courtesy.

Carlisle and the twins hadn’t been given the same courtesy. 

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Carlos remembered Carlisle better than he remembered the twins, but that wasn’t saying much given the fact the three of them had died within a year of one another. 

He remembered his silverish-gray hair, his unnaturally blue eyes,  and his maniacal smile. 

Remembered his laugh that sounded hauntingly similar to their mother’s laugh.

He also remembered how much of a mama’s boy his brother was—and Carlos’s own jealousy that he hadn’t even been able to name at the time at how much more their mother had loved him and the twins when she loved him and the others all so little. 

He knew that when he was five, he had hated the older boy—had hated him so much that he went out of his way to make things difficult for him just so that he could spend more time with Hunter. Made things difficult when Carlisle hadn’t really deserved it.

All because Carlos had been jealous of how much better off he was. 

It was stupid, in hindsight. Carlos knew that. 

Carlisle had only been fourteen when he died— had only been the age Carlos was now .  

It wasn’t his fault that he sounded and acted like their mother (to a much more dialed down degree). It wasn’t his fault that he found fireworks and explosives entertaining more than the rest of them did. It wasn’t Carlisle’s fault that he’d outlived both of the twins.

It wasn’t his fault: he was just a messed up kid with no friends who’d never known any different than the horror that was their family.

But of course, it had taken Carlos nine years too late to realize that. 

Because all his five year old self had seen was a warped reflection of the scary mother who didn’t love the rest of them enough instead of his big brother who did his best to bond with Carlos, Carlotta, Remi, and the others. 

Even after Carlise had died—having bled out after trying to show off how cool his new fireworks were to a girl he’d had a crush on; only for the firework to explode in his hand. 

Carlos still had nightmares where Carlise lay bleeding out, screaming for their mother who did her best for once to help as she cried and cried—cried harder than she had when both of the twins had died because the last child she truly fully loved was gone. 

She hadn’t cried for either of the Carlottas.

(And deep down, Carlos knew that if he or Remi joined them tomorrow she wouldn't cry then either).

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Conway and Codias both had heads full of curly red hair that no one was quite sure the origin of, freckles, big brown eyes, and missing teeth in different places from all the roughhousing they did with one another and Carlise. 

They’d both been only nine when they died. 

And Carlos had liked them both well enough. 

At least, Carlos thought he did—he couldn’t really remember them all that well.

He vaguely remembered Conway trying to teach him how to draw as he poured them both a glass of the blue ink he loved to drink so much only to cry when he got sick from drinking it and remembered even more vaguely Carlise screaming at Codias until he cried because he accidentally broke Carlos’s arm when playing with him. 

Hunter said Conway was the shy twin and that he didn’t like to leave Cruella, Carlisle, or Codias’s side for longer than he had to when outside—and that he had been so excited when Carlos was born and was the reason that Cruella even bothered making both Carlos and Remi baby blankets. 

Diego said that Conway was good at much more than just drawing and that he was just good at artsy things in general; except music of course, because he was just as tone deaf as Hunter and Ivy were.

And all Ivy had to say about Conway was that he was an idiot for drinking ink till he died just because he liked the way blue ink tasted. 

(And later, when she cooled down, she’d tell Carlos how much Conway had liked the color blue).

Carlotta claimed that Codias had liked to be called ‘Cody’ and had only let their mother call him his actual name.

Uncle Cecil, in the rare moments where he was open to questions about the siblings and relatives Carlos didn’t remember, would quietly remind him of the wooden plane that Cody had carried around. A plane Carlise had  apparently made for him (he apparently made the wooden toy tools Carlos had played with years after his death, too).

Ivy called Cody stupid and reckless, saying that the broken arm Carlos remembered getting wasn’t the only time the redhead had accidentally hurt him.

Hunter grimly noted that the swing that had eventually plunged Cody into the cold, icy waters and jagged rocks that killed him had been the one that little Cody had tried to push a one or two year old Carlos on as an attempt to bond. 

But Carlos couldn’t confirm or deny any of it. 

Because he didn’t remember and their little brother, Remi, wouldn’t either.

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And now it was just him and Remi. The only surviving children of Cruella de Vil. And it was him ( not his little brother who he may never see again after this) , the one chosen, out of all of their cousins, out of everyone on the Isle, to be one of the five to go to Auradon.

Lucky him, right?

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“Are you sure you aren’t mad?” Carlos asked his brother for what had to be the third time that hour as he packed what little belongings he had. 

He could barely meet his brother’s eye. 

He hadn’t even gotten to tell Remi that he was leaving for Auradon himself—no, Remi had found out from his friend Hannah who was also being forced to go to Auradon with Carlos and the others on Maleficent’s orders.

The inventor knew that his little brother had to be mad at him.

He’d be mad, in his shoes. 

Remi huffed, plopping down on the ground dangerously close to one of their mother’s bear traps without even a hint of fear (Carlos couldn’t help but shiver at the memory of what had happened to the last two children other than him and Evie who’d been close to those traps). “For the last time, I’m not mad at you—but I will be sending you down to Davy Jones’ locker if you keep asking if I am.”

“Dude, I don’t speak pirate—”

“You can speak dog —when you’re terrified of them—but you can’t pick up simple pirate lingo that I’ve been speaking since I was six?”

“It doesn’t make any sense!”

“It makes perfect sense!”

“It’s a locker underneath the ocean! Pretty self-explanatory as to how someone would end up there!”

“It doesn’t even exist!”

“Whatever.” Remi rolled his eyes. “I said, no, I’m not mad at you. You’re getting out of here, why should I be mad at you? Just get us off, too, once you’re out there. Don’t forget about us.”

Don’t forget about us.

Carlotta and Carlotta. Carlisle. Codias. Conway.  Ivy and Hunter and Diego and Remi. All of them. Every one of them. Carlos could visualize the faces of each of them, even if it had been a decade since his eyes had seen their faces, that they had breathed.

His family . All of them, all the de Vils. Together. What was left of them, anyway.

“I won’t,” Carlos vowed softly. “I would never.”

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His first night in Auradon, Carlos popped in the only pair of earbuds he'd ever seen on the Isle and listened to The Bad Apples on the old, cruddy MVP player his cousins and brother had quickly fixed up for him as a going away present. 

Listening to every single song on repeat until he finally managed to fall asleep with tears in his eyes. 

Missing his long-gone siblings. 

Missing Remi, the only one left alive.

Missing Hunter and Ivy and Diego . 

Diego, who had grabbed all of his bandmates to record all of their songs just so that he could hear them whenever he wanted to. Just so that he wouldn't feel as scared and alone as any one would in his situation.

Diego, who Carlos hadn't even always been sure liked him all that much. 

Did that just for him. 

It even made Carlos enjoy his cousin's music for the first time in his life. 

(Diego)

“The Beast will take off with your dreams,

And shatter them in the night.

Rip your heart apart at the seams,

He's nothing more than a blight–”

(Harriet, Claudine, and Ginny as Chorus)

“–A BLIGHT ON OUR LIVES,

Gotta fight to survive—”

Even if it was a bit cringey. 

( “Oh shut up, Carlos, my music’s not cringey you just have no taste—”

"Just keep telling yourself that."

"You're the only one who doesn't like The Bad Apples" ).

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Carlos wasn’t quite as surprised as he thought he perhaps ought to be when he found out he had family in Auradon.

Plenty of people on the Isle had family in Auradon, after all. Most of the de Vils had been sent to the Isle, but there were a few who hadn’t been, distant cousins and the odd long-lost uncle. They were bound to be out in Auradon somewhere.

No. His surprise was, when he finally found out about them and met them, that he actually had already known them. Or one of them, anyway.

His mother had a brother Carlos had only heard about from Cecil’s occasional mentions (one he was much more willing to talk about than the one who had been on the isle with them, once upon a time, Cristin de Vil), Divus. Some time after the rest of the de Vils had been banished to the Isle, Divus had married a perfectly ordinary woman named Eleanor who was not connected with any villainous or heroic families in any way. The two of them had one son, a little boy of about seven named Henry.

Carlos had met Henry. Last year, during the schoolwide scavenger hunt. He and Jane had stumbled upon a lost little boy who had been separated from his mother on a trip to Auradon City, and had helped him find her.

To Carlos’ surprise, Henry had known who he was, and had been shocked—awed—to actually meet him.

Carlos usually forgot that he and his friends were kind of famous. The Isle was small enough that everybody knew everybody at least by face, and he and his friends rarely ventured out of Auradon Prep. But everywhere else?

Well, the decision to bring over several VKs to Auradon had made national news. Their arrival had been televised. So had the coronation. So had Cotillion. At this point, it was safe to say that Carlos and the others were probably recognizable on sight anywhere in Auradon.

And, to his own shock, it turned out that they had fans. Carlos, at least. One fan in particular.

It turned out that Henry had idolized him before even meeting him. Which felt weird . Was this what it was like to be Ben, multiplied by a couple million?

Henry also liked to tinker with machines and electronics and figure out how things worked and come up with new ideas, just like Carlos. It was like meeting a miniature version of him, minus the black in his hair. The kid actually had white hair, unlike any other Auradonian child Carlos had seen.

(“It was actually black-and-white, like normal— normal for de Vils, I mean,” his uncle Divus would tell Carlos later, his own black-and-white hair safely disguised by the grey streaks in it and the lines on his face. “We dyed it black for a while, but around the time he turned six he started driving us crazy to have it white instead, and eventually we gave in. If he couldn’t have it black-and-white he wanted it white, at least, so it could be like the kid’s he saw on TV. You.”)

(The relatives of villains sent to the Isle, even though they’d been lucky enough to escape banishment themselves, were often treated less than kindly in Auradon due to the actions of their relatives. There was a reason Divus hadn’t reached out to Carlos until now, a reason he’d dyed his son’s telltale hair even as an infant.)

Carlos and his friends had helped Henry find his mother—his aunt, Carlos now knew—and Carlos remembered watching Henry and his mother hug each other, both of them crying tears of worry, relief, joy, and he had thought that he had never, ever been as excited to see each other as Henry was. That his mother had never been as worried about him as Henry’s mother had been over her son disappearing for half an hour.

In that moment, in that image of a relieved mother and son uniting in joyful embrace, Carlos had glimpsed something he could never have, and had turned away quickly, leaving his girlfriend to explain to Henry’s mother how they’d found him.

He’d wallowed in self-pity for a while, the look on Henry’s tear-streaked, beaming face as he looked up at his mother like she’d hung the stars in the sky haunting him. 

Carlos had never looked at his mother like that. From his earliest memories, Cruella was something to be feared and avoided and obeyed unless you were Carlisle and the twins. 

It took him a while to realize he was jealous. Jealous of Henry. Jealous of Ben and Lonnie and Jane. Jealous of every kid in Auradon interacting with their parents that he’d ever seen. Jealous that they had something the Isle had robbed him of, him and every VK he knew, for even those villain parents who did care a whit about their children never showed it in the free, easy way affection was given in Auradon ( because they couldn't on the isle—showing you cared just painted a target on your loved one's backs and made you look weak—) .

Then he found out that Henry was actually his cousin. Divus was his uncle, Eleanor was his aunt by marriage, and little Henry was as much of a cousin to him as Ivy and Diego were, the youngest de Vil.

All Carlos could think of as he sat through that first, awkward meeting with his newfound family members was how normal they were. How, well, Auradonlike, but in a good way.

They took him out to an eatery in the city that the Auradon students often frequented, the Mad for Tea Caf é .  Carlos didn’t eat much. He mostly just watched them. Occasionally Ally, who worked there after school as her parents ran the place, would appear over his shoulder to refill his tea cup, give him an encouraging wink, and boop Henry on the nose.

 They—Carlos couldn’t help but think of them as the Auradonian De Vils— talked. They laughed. They occasionally made an effort to include him in the conversation, but not too often, so it didn’t feel like an interrogation, not like when the well-meaning Anita and Roger Radcliffe had met him; this allowed him to sit quietly and observe them, how they moved, how they acted. Eleanor sometimes chastised Henry for acting too wild or reminded him to “use your fork” or “chew with your mouth closed,” but she never smacked or shouted. They all seemed at ease sitting close to each other and occasionally touching each other, none of them clinging to each other or, conversely, sitting stiff and still to ensure not touching each other, both actions being what characterized every de Vil family meeting Carlos had ever been in, even the ones consisting only of himself and all his cousins.

They acted like other Auradon families Carlos had seen. How Jane and her mother talked. How Lonnie and her brother sat next to each other by lunch. How Audrey and Ariana gossipped in the halls, how Arabella and her cousins all did their homework together in the common room while draped over each other in a big pile.

Divus and Henry and Eleanor acted normal .

And Carlos realized he was completely, inexpressibly glad , glad that little Henry was growing up with parents who were just like Auradon parents, glad that this little branch of the de Vils seemed somehow to have escaped the curse of madness and grief that inexorably ruined all their lives, glad that Henry would grow up happy and free and safe and as unlike the lives of the other de Vils as he could get.

Little Henry would walk a path of light and happiness, unlike the warped, shadowy path that the rest of them followed through life. At least one member of the de Vils could get a happy life. If it couldn’t be Carlos, if it couldn’t be his older sister or his younger sister or Remi or Diego or any of them, at least Henry could be carefree.

A real child.

A normal child.

A normal life.