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randomshyperson · 4 years ago

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Wanda Maximoff x Reader - I bet i love you

Gif if not mine, but i swear she looks prettier every time i look at her.

Summary: Prompt based from @ecruzsalaz: The one where Wanda is popular, and Reader is a nerd. The popular kids do a bet that Reader will fall in love with Wanda. Everything will be reveal after their trip.

Warnings: Light angst, kissing, teasing, underage drinking, lies, Vision being an idiot completely out of canon.

Words: 13.446 k /// Read on AO3

Notes: I don’t even know what happen here. I’m been busy and this took a lot of days to be done, but it’s finally here, hope @ecruzsalaz will be satisfied haha. Good reading everyone and apologies for any typo, it sucks to translate so many words. There are a few pop culture references, i wonder if anyone will catch those.

Marks (if i forgot your name tell me i’m lost): @mionemymind @abimess

In your last year of high school, you just wish things would be peaceful.

The previous years hadn't exactly been ideal, since you were surrounded by assholes, but you are optimistic.

Your small, select group of friends, consisting of exactly two people, who you could swear were probably the only decent human beings left in West View High School, were currently the only reason you still wanted to go to high school.

Right now, for example, you were sitting in the outer cafeteria, a book of historical fiction to escape reality plus headphones with some old rock music that you weren't really listening to, since you were so focused on the story you were reading. And then someone pulled on your headphones, and you looked up ready to complain, but the mischievous smile of your best friend Bruce Banner was all you could find.

- I've been calling you for five minutes. - He said, sitting down on the stool in front of you. You smiled, apologizing, and put your cell phone on the table. - No problem, you always do that.

You laughed awkwardly, closing the book while Bruce put his backpack on the table.

- Where is Mon? I haven't seen her today. - You tell him, but Bruce shrugs.

- Maybe her mother changed shifts again. - He comments, and you make a noise with your mouth of agreement. Whenever Maria, your friend Monica's mother, switched shifts at work, she would be late for first periods. It has been like this since primary school.

- You still haven't let me see your schedule. - You told Bruce with a slight frown, and he laughed, going through his pockets. Then he took out his cell phone, fiddled with the screen for a few seconds, and then handed it to you. You read the attached class schedule with a frown. - Bruce! You didn't sign up for half the classes you took last year?

He shrugged, running his hands through his hair.

- Yeah, I think I'll focus more on what I want for college. - He explained a little shyly. - I was getting too anxious about all that stuff. And honestly, you should have done the same.

You made a grumbling sound with your mouth, and started biting your thumbnail as you finished looking at the schedule. You would barely have any classes together. And then you handed the cell phone back to your friend.

- I would do it if I had any idea what I wanted to major in. - You tell him. - It's better to have several interests on the curriculum, so I'll have more course options.

- You can also develop burnot. - He remarked with mild irony, and you laughed, looking away.

The bell for the first class then rang, and the two of you exchanged a look before getting up. Bruce kissed you on the cheek before heading in the opposite direction, and you grumbled lightly as you picked up your book and walked to the chemistry labs.

In the hallway of the main building, a few meters before the entrance to the lab, someone bumped into you. It was one of the boys from the team, who was laughing at something his colleague said. Your notebooks fell to the floor, and the boy looked at you with contempt.

- Watch where you're going weirdo. - He warned and you rolled your eyes.

- You're the one who bumped into me, you brute. - You grumbled angrily. The boy just laughed and walked away.

After picking your books, you stood up. The athletes at your school were jerks, but you didn't blame only them for their arrogance. The rest of the school, including the faculty, treated them as gods, so they behaved as such.

Sighing with impatience, you entered the chemistry labs, wishing that the day wasn't long.

Darcy Lewis had been your chemistry partner for three years. You smiled as you greeted her and sat down next to her. You were not friends, but she was very kind and extremely intelligent. You really thought you were very lucky to have her as your partner, and then, as if the universe would like to laugh at you, Professor Nakia announced that she was switching partners.

The whole class let out a chorus of dissatisfaction, and one student asked aloud.

- Please, Professor Nakia, we have been working with the same people for three years. Why change now?

- Excellent question, Miss Quinn. - Nakia said, smiling. She was at her desk, finishing putting her materials on top. - Three years is more than enough time for you to create tricks to cheat on my exams.

The room exchanged complicit and guilty looks, and the teacher kept a serious posture.

- The school board found evidence to indicate this. - She explains. - I was very disappointed to learn that there were students cheating on the evaluation method not only in this class, but in several others. You will notice that all teachers with fixed groups will rotate them from now on. This was a decision made by the principal.

You rolled your eyes, annoyed that you would lose your amazing partner and were running the chance of ending up with someone irresponsible or slacker, just because some kids were careless at cheating. The room let out a chorus of understanding, and everyone began to move around as the teacher indicated the new groups. You ended up sitting with a guy named Vision, who you didn't really know, but you knew was quite popular because he was class speaker, and head of the fencing club.

- Hello, dear. - He greeted you as he sat down, putting his coat on the chair. Vision dressed very well; he was part of the group your classmates called "preps”, even if he was usually hanging out with jocks.

You made a noise with your mouth in greeting, but he didn't seem to mind your lack of sociability.

Fortunately, Vision was a decent chemistry partner. Although he was bossy, and had a habit of interrupting or explaining as if you were stupid, he was intelligent and knew how to do the experiments. You thought that was enough, since you would only have to put up with him in this class.

Feeling a glance at you, you raised your eyes from the notebook, and were slightly startled to notice Vision looking at you with amusement and curiosity, you frowned ready to ask what's wrong, but then he let out a dry laugh.

- I knew I knew you! - he declared. - You're the Presley freak!

Vision laughed lightly nostalgically, and you felt your face flush, turning your attention back to your notebook. He was talking about the Halloween party in freshman year, where you dressed up as Elvis Presley and the track team decided to nickname you "Presley Freak" for the next whole year. The teasing died down after a while, but Vision brought it back as if it were a good memory.

Fortunately he just shook his head with amusement, and didn't mention it again. When class was over, he didn't say goodbye on his way out, but you didn't care.

//-//

The story that all the teachers followed the new norm of switching partners was true. In History, you lost your partner Bucky Barnes to sit with Natasha Romanoff, equally quiet and intelligent. For the most part, you are satisfied with the partners you got.

But then in fourth period, biology class, you ended up partnering with someone you never imagined.

Wanda Maximoff was one of the most popular girls in school. You didn't really know her. You were classmates during elementary school, and you even became friends with her twin brother in elementary school, Pietro Maximoff, before he became a complete idiot. But other than that, you didn't know much about her. Although you had a strange sympathy for the girl. Unlike the group of girls she hung out with, Wanda never tormented you at school. Or your friends. She was probably fake and sneaky like the others, but she left you alone, so you had nothing against her.

You were pulling your biology book out of your backpack as the teacher announced the new pairs, and you stopped in mid-motion when she said Maximoff and your name.

Wanda sat down beside you the next moment, smiling politely. You shook your head slightly, dropping your backpack on the floor.

Wanda was surprisingly nice. You didn't talk about anything unrelated to the subject, but she was quick enough to catch your ironic glances when Professor Darkholme made an inappropriate comment or a funny remark, and match it with a smile or a look.

As the class came to an end, Wanda nodded slightly at you, and you smiled back before gathering your materials.

It had been four months since classes had started, and you were already used to your new partners in class.

Vision was inconvenient in many comments, as if he took pleasure in recalling your most embarrassing moments in high school, but you learned to change the subject quickly whenever this happened. All you had to do was pretend you didn't know about some subject he mastered, only to hear him explain it to you in the most arrogant manner possible for the next few minutes, effectively distracting him.

Natasha Romanoff was exceptionally sarcastic and ironic, and you sometimes you felt that she was a more aggressive female version of your former partner Bucky Barnes. She was quite individualistic, and you had to make an effort not to get left behind, or you had to constantly remind her that you were a duo, but otherwise she was a good partner, and you were happy to invite her to lunch with you, which eventually became a habit after a week.

And then you had Wanda Maximoff. You weren't friends, but you had a strange kind of complicity as biology partners. You never would have guessed that Wanda would have a sense of humor so similar to yours. Two classes in a row, and you already had inside jokes about the way Ms. Darkholme caught the attention of her students. Two weeks in, and you two knew how to cheat your way through assignments. You didn't know how to make friends, and judging by the history of who Wanda was hanging out with, you had the impression that she wouldn't want to develop any kind of relationship with you. And honestly, this was your last year, you wouldn't see these people again, so you were more than satisfied to have just one good lab partner.

With the mid-winter vacations approaching, you were looking forward to getting some rest.

Non-Reader Pov

- God, Wanda, why are you talking about that weirdo again? - interrupted Vision impatiently. His girlfriend blinked in confusion, looking away awkwardly.

- I'm just commenting on a joke we…

- Really, Wanda? - He interrupted again with an accusing look. - It seems like all you do lately is "comment" on your little jokes in class. - He sneers as he settles down on the sofa. The two of them stand together outside the school, their group of friends watching the discussion with amusement. - I don't know why you talk to her at all. She is so silent and awkward with me in chemistry class.

Wanda bites the inside of her cheek, looking forward.

- I think your girlfriend has a girl crush. - Tony Stark sneered next, making everyone laugh. Wanda frowned, feeling her heart race.

- You are an idiot. - She grumbled impatiently, crossing her arms. Vision looked at her curiously.

- Honey, don't tell me that you actually appreciate that girl? - he asks ironically, and Wanda rolls her eyes without looking at him. Vision laughs.

And then Tony is holding out a craft-paper covered bottle to Vision, and he takes a sip, coughing slightly afterwards. Wanda frowns at the scene, but none of her friends seem concerned that they are drinking during school hours, as the bottle continues to pass in everyone's hand.

- You know, I think it's sweet that you have sympathy for that freak. - Tony comments a moment later and Wanda tells him to fuck off, making him laugh.

- I think we are witnessing a beautiful love story. - Mocks Pepper, Tony's girlfriend, approaching the three of them as she sits on Stark's lap. Wanda rolls her eyes, as the group laughs. And then Vision has a thoughtful expression.

- I have an idea. - He says slightly drunk, as he throws his arm around his girlfriend's shoulders. - Let's make a bet.

Tony and Pepper let out excited exclamations, while Wanda frowns.

- What kind of bet?

- Well, you guys remember when the weirdo dressed up as Presley for Halloween, right? - he asked, and Tony and Pepper laughed, agreeing. - And then Pietro saw her kissing that girl who hang with the bikers, Jones something.

- Jessica. - Pepper clarified before taking another sip of her drink.

- Then we know she's a dyke. - Vision says, but Tony frowns.

- Wasn't she dating that guy with the long hair and the angry face?

- Barnes? - Vision asked and Tony nodded. - I don't think so. Anyway, she is into girls. - he said and the group nodded in agreement. - I mean the bet is this: I can prove that she is just like everyone else in this school. Give her a bit of our attention, and she will be completely obsessed.

- Vis, what are you talking about? - Wanda asked, and Vision laughed ironically.

- It's very simple, love. - He says. - You are hot. Everyone knows that, and even someone like her, who pretends not to be part of the social circles of this school, can see that. - He clarifies, and the group looks at him intently. Wanda doesn't say that she doesn't like being objectified, swallowing the bitter feeling in her stomach. - So my bet is that you win her over. It should take what, one or two dates for her to be completely in love with you.

The friends laugh in irony and Wanda thinks she should follow, but only a forced laugh escapes. Because of the alcohol, no one notices.

- This is ridiculous. - Wanda comments and then Vision looks at her with irony.

- Unless you're getting attached to the girl, dear. - He sneers, and the group laughs. Wanda swallows dryly, shaking her head in denial. - So, what's the problem? You'll just prove me right. And you will realize that there is nothing special about her.

- I think we can make this even more fun. - says Tony with a wicked smile. - I bet you a hundred bucks that Wanda will fall in love too.

Tony sneers and the group laughs with irony.

- As if anyone would even like that girl. - Vision declares, accepting another drink.

- How do we make sure it's working? - Tony asks and Vision bites his lip thoughtfully. Then he lets out an exclamation.

- Our trip! - he says, and then turns to Wanda. - Love, invite the weirdo to the cabin! We can watch you work.

Wanda frowns, but then the group is suggesting ideas of conquest, and laughing, and debauchery, and she hates it. But she smiles, and nods in agreement, accepting the liquor as the bottle comes into her hand.

Reader Pov

You intended to study during the winter vacations. And maybe get out of the room a little if Bruce or Monica visited. Your surprise was genuine when in your last biology term, Wanda Maximoff started talking to you about something other than the subject.

- Hey, are you doing anything this holiday? - she comments amiably. You didn't notice the looks Tony Stark was giving you two from the front seat.

- Huh... No?

- Are you asking me? - She replies with a smile. You blush, looking away at your notebook. Wanda bites her cheek, and it takes a moment for her to speak again. - I wanted to invite you to something.

You blink in surprise, looking at Wanda. She looks away from the board for a moment, as she wiggles her fingers against her own thigh.

- My friends and I are spending the holiday in a cabin. - She clarifies. - There's all this winter activities, you know. Skiing and stuff like that. I'd like you to come.

- Why? - The question slips out a little harshly, but you can't help it. Wanda looks away, and you almost apologize. But then Wanda smiles, shrugging.

- I'd like to get to know you better, I guess. - She says. - I think it would be fun if we could be friends outside of class.

You look at her suspiciously for a few seconds. But then you sigh, looking down at the notebooks.

- Alright, Wanda. - you say after a moment, ignoring the growing anxiety in your stomach. - Is it okay if I bring a friend?

- Of course! - She confirms excitedly. - You can take whoever you want, it's a big place.

The teacher gives a warning for side conversations next, and you shut up. You blush when Wanda approaches you to write down her phone number in her notebook. You are distracted enough not to notice her blushing slightly when Tony Stark gives her a mischievous look.

//-//

- So you actually said yes? - Bruce asked with surprise when you told him about the biology class, while you were having lunch together in the cafeteria. Monica had the same expression.

- Yes, and I would love it if you would go with me, because I think I am close to completely freak out. - You ask with mild desperation and your friends laugh. And then Monica is looking behind you.

- Look, I would be too. They are so... - She starts and you turn around, looking at the group of Wanda's friends a few meters away. The kids are sitting at the table, making noise with their loud laughter. One of them was throwing a football up in the air. A short boy walked past them and was pushed slightly. - I can't even define them.

You let out a grumble, laying your head on your arms on the table.

- This was a bad idea, wasn't it, guys? - you ask. - They're going to eat me alive.

- Why the long faces, nerds? - Natasha asked as she came over to the table, placing the tray of food next to Monica, staring at you.

And then your friends explained it to her, and you groaned in dissatisfaction when she started laughing.

- You've lost your mind, haven't you? - she asked wryly. - It's a trap, I'm sure.

- There's no reason for it. - You retorted, trying to eat a little. - Besides, it was Wanda who invited me. She said she'd like us to be friends.

- Look, I know that Maximoff is the least worst of the bunch. - Nat began as she opened her soda. - But she still hangs around with those idiots.

- Yeah, I know. - You agree with a sigh. And then you remember your classes. - I just... She has been surprisingly nice, you know? I think she was being sincere. It's just a trip, it's not the end of the world.

- Good to know you think that. - said Bruce. - Because I won't be able to go.

- What? - You then exclaim.

- I applied for an internship at S.H.I.E.L.D. Labs. - He remarks and you let out a grumble, remembering.

- Shit, it's true. - You say. - I completely forgot about it.

- Girl, I can't go either. - Informs Monica with a guilty expression, and you let out an exclamation. - I'm going to spend the holiday with my father.

You bury your face in your hands. And then you risk a glance at Natasha, and she laughs wryly.

- Don't even try. - She says. - Even if you paid me I wouldn't travel with Tony Stark.

- I'll pay you.

Nat laughs at your desperation, and stops eating, looking at you with surprising kindness.

- You, girl, are adorable and kind. A nerdy cute dork, and I'm sure that if that's not enough for those idiots, they're the problem, not you. - She assures you, and you smile wryly. - Don't worry about pleasing any of them, you're going to become friends with Wanda, aren't you? Try to enjoy the trip, and if anything happens, call me and I'll finish them all off.

You laugh, nodding slightly. You don't want to think so much about this trip, but you know it's going to be the only thing on your mind for the next few days.

The week ended quickly. And you were very anxious when the weekend arrived, and you received a text message from Wanda saying that she would pick you up at home on Saturday morning. You would spend the holiday at the Stark family's winter cottage, a property big enough to fit the whole group. Wanda said it was somewhere with mountains, near a lake, and you bit your lip, wondering if you should bring a bathing suit. Since it was snowing, you figured you wouldn't try to swim anywhere.

On Saturday you were up bright and early, your bags packed. You kissed your parents and your younger brother on the cheek before you left, finding a pickup truck parked in front of your house.

Wanda hugged you when you said good morning to her, and to the boys. Vision and Pietro were in this car, and she said that Tony was in the second car, and had gone for gas.

Vision drove towards the cabin next, and he tried a little small talk before shutting up. Wanda was in the passenger seat, and Vision let his hand rest on her thigh, and you didn't understand the bitter feeling in your stomach.

- God, put on some decent music! - asked Pietro, scrambling up on the seat beside you to reach for the radio.

- Leave it, Pietro! - complained Vision pushing the boy backwards. - You only want to play that emo shit!

Pietro laughed, not insisting. And Vision looked at you through the rearview mirror.

- Let's let our guest choose the music. - he said with a smile. You cleared your throat.

- Okay. - You agreed, pulling your cell phone out of your pocket. You turned on Spotify next, and when Vision asked if it would be any longer, you bit the inside of your cheek. And then you put on some pop rock.

Nobody said anything, and you thought that somehow you had just passed some kind of test. But then your set list started, and when the classic rock song from the 50's started playing, Vision burst out laughing.

- They don't call you Presley Freak for nothing. - He scoffs, switching to the radio next.

- I like it. - Wanda comments surprising you, but neither Vision nor her brother change their debauched posture.

- Yes, yes, your taste is terrible too. - He replies with irony. You bite your lips as you watch Wanda roll her eyes and look away to the window. Vision lets Pietro choose the music next.

The cabin was really very big.

You guys met Tony's car on the way, but he didn't stop. It didn't take long for you to arrive. You smiled in appreciation at Pietro when he carried your bags inside.

You looked at the structure impressed. Tony Stark really was very rich. Hugging your arms lightly after feeling the cool breeze, you smiled politely at Wanda's other friends as they greeted you.

- I am Pepper Potts, and this is Steve Rogers and Sam Wilson. - says the blonde girl cheerfully, as she waves to the other boys. - You must have met Tony by now.

- I think I've seen all of you at school. - You say feeling out of place, but they smile as they walk into the cabin. Tony hands the bags to the other boys, and then is throwing an arm around your shoulders, and you want to push him away for the inappropriate contact.

- It's a pleasure to meet you, sweetie. - He says, and you blink when you feel the alcohol. - Who knew that nerds hid pretty girls with them?

The joke makes the group laugh, and you look around uncomfortably. Tony then releases you as you enter.

Pepper is the one who shares the rooms, and you are happy to know that you won't be sharing with anyone.

While you are unpacking upstairs on your bed, Wanda joins you.

- Hey. - She greets me as she enters and closes the door. You're folding your clothes.

- Hi, Wanda.

- Is everything okay? - she asks and you nod in agreement. - They can be a bit much sometimes, and I don't want you to get uncomfortable and... Do you like "Bewitched"?

The sudden question startles you and you blink in confusion. Wanda nods at the item in your hands. The T-shirt you are folding has the logo of the old sitcom you used to watch with your parents.

- Oh yes. - You sigh in agreement. - It is one of my favorite shows actually.

Wanda laughs in surprise, crossing her arms.

- Wow, I didn't know that. - She says. - I love this stuff. Vision thinks the jokes are stupid, so don't tell him I'm talking about it.

She jokes and you let out a wry exclamation.

- Why would I tell Vision anything? - You ask and Wanda hesitates slightly, but then smiles.

- No, it was just a figure of speech. - She clarifies as you fold your shirt.

- Right. - You say, not really understanding this conversation. - If you want, we can watch it together anytime. I think we'll have time to do it here.

Wanda looks at you with surprise and excitement.

- Really? I'd love to. - She confirms, and you smile as you finish packing.

The redhead clears her throat afterwards.

- I just wanted to check on you anyway. - she says. - I think Steve is cooking dinner tonight, so join us when you' re ready.

- Okay, Wanda. - You say. - Thanks.

She smiles before leaving. You stare at the Bewitched's T-shirt on your bed for a few moments before you leave.

Steve tries to cook some chicken breast. And he almost burns the kitchen down. So you are on your feet, investigating the cupboards, and although cooking is not your favorite activity, you don't mind making some chili for everyone.

- I love Mexican food. - Wanda comments excitedly as she stands next to you and watches you cook. The rest of the group is in the living room, the boys being very noisy as they throw a soccer ball around the room. You smile at the redhead next to you.

- God, did you see the picture that Tabitha Smith posted on instagram? - Pepper asked aloud, staring at her cell phone. She was sitting on the kitchen counter, a look of disgust on her face. Wanda approached her and quickly looked at the screen. - She put on silicone, I'm sure of it.

Wanda made a noise of agreement, exchanging a quick glance with you, clearly not caring one bit about the topic, and you smiled, turning your attention back to the pot. Pepper didn't notice and continued making comments about her classmates' social media posts.

- It's ready. - You announce. Your breath catches in your throat as Wanda puts her hand on your waist, leaning behind your back to taste the food. She lets out a satisfied groan, and you feel her cheeks flush.

But then she walks away next, and you struggle to disguise yourself as the boys are joining you, announcing that they are starving.

- Wow, this is delicious. - said Pepper as soon as you sat down at the table and started to eat. The group agreed, and you blushed with embarrassment. Soon they started talking among themselves, and you tried to keep up as best you could, but the topics weren't really of interest to you.

When you got back to the room, Tony proposed that you all play a game, and then he went through the storage room and came back carrying monopoly.

At first you thought it would be innocent fun, then there were drinks and gambling.

- It's a four! - shouted Tony excitedly. - That's my property, Wilson!

Sam let out a grumble of dissatisfaction as he moved his figure around the board. Tony laughed mischievously.

- So, how do you want me to pay the rent? - Sam asked and Tony made a thoughtful face.

- With a question. - Tony announces maliciously. - Among the people in this room, tell me who would you have sex with?

Sam laughs in surprise, as the group gives a chorus of excitement. You swallow dryly, uncomfortable with the direction of the questions. So far, the questions and challenges had been innocent and slightly awkward, but after a few beers, the group was clearly getting more excited in other respects.

- Careful with your answer, friend. - Vision warned, putting his arm possessively around Wanda's shoulders. You looked away to the board.

- That might be shocking for a straight guy, Vis. - Sam remarked with mild debauchery. - But not all of us are looking at the girls.

The group laughs in surprise, and Vision rolls his eyes.

- I would do Steve Rogers for sure. - Sam declares the next moment, and the group lets out a celebratory chorus. Steve laughs too, slightly surprised. Sam just smiles playfully, shrugging his shoulders. Then Steve steps forward, amusing himself by pretending to kiss him, and the group laughs. You smile awkwardly, not really understanding what everyone thinks is funny.

The game continues, and you are doing very well. You laugh when Pepper has to tell you all about the worst sexual experience she has ever had, but you are slightly uncomfortable when Steve has to demonstrate on a pillow his first time. A few rounds later, you grumble in dissatisfaction when you take a five and end up in jail.

- Whoa, that's has a punishment. - Tony announces when he sees your move. You look at him, and he looks excited. - Finally, Presley, your moment has come.

- Tony. - Wanda scolds him for his nickname, but Tony doesn't listen.

- Let me think about it. - He continues with a thoughtful expression, and then a mischievous gleam takes over his gaze. - Have you ever heard that shy girls are the biggest freaks in the room?

You swallow dryly, feeling your face heat up as the group lets out a laugh.

- I will not...

- Don't even start. - Tony interrupts your denial with a smile. - Don't spoil the fun. I'll give you a simple challenge.

You bite the inside of your cheek, frowning as you fight the urge to get up.

- Your sentence of freedom will be to give a hickey to the person who gets a six on the dice. - He declares, and the group lets out a chorus of excitement.

And then everyone is rushing to throw the dice and you cross your arms, feeling your face hot.

- If more than one person gets six, you'll give them both a hickey and win immunity for a round! - Tony laughs as he makes up the rules.

Pepper is the first to play, and lets out a despondent sigh when she draws two. And then Steve plays next, and complains when the die lands on four. Sam and Tony don't get six either. You hold your breath when Wanda rolls, and feel your heart race when the die stops.

- This should be interesting. - Vision comments with mild irony and mischief as he takes his arm off Wanda's shoulders, picking up the die stopped at six. Tony laughs and you can't keep your eyes on the redhead.

Vision gets a four. And then Pietro gets a six, and you grumble.

- I can't believe you're going to get both of the Maximoffs! - Wilson comments with amusement and you swallow dryly, shifting uncomfortably in your seat.

- Finally some action. - Pietro jokes as he approaches. He kneels in front of you, and you take a deep breath. - Come on, Y/N, it's just a silly challenge.

He tries to reassure you with a smile, and you try to ignore the staring eyes on the two of you. You think the boys are laughing as you bring your face closer to Pietro's outstretched neck, and land your lips on his skin. He smells like aftershave lotion, but it's just embarrassing to be so close. Pietro lets out a breathless chuckle as you begin to suck on his skin, and he clenches the support of the couch.

You stop quickly, and he pulls away. The red skin glows on his neck. He flashes you the seductive smile, and you look away, listening to the group celebrating.

- Next, please! - Tony says clearly intoxicated. You feel your racing heart echoing in your ears. Wanda gets up from the couch, and unlike her brother, she completely short-circuits your brain when she sits on your lap. You think someone whistled.

- Wanda, what are you doing? - You mumble clumsily, and she just smiles as she puts her hands on your shoulders.

- Don't you like this position? - she asks and you swallow dryly.

- Come on, girls! - Tony tells you between laughs. Someone knocks over the vodka bottle on the floor, making a mess. You think the group is barely paying attention to you, fighting among themselves to save the rest of the board and Tony's expensive rug, but you're not really taking in anything other than the girl on your lap.

You move forward, sinking your face into her neck and inhaling Wanda's scent. When you let out your breath, she trembles and squeezes your shoulder lightly, making you swallow dryly.

You let your lips kiss her skin, watching Wanda's chest rise and fall, indicating her unregulated breathing. And then you lick her skin, and she chokes. When you suck on her skin, she bites her lips hard, stopping herself from moaning. And then you let go.

Ignoring the urge to kiss the red dot again, you throw your back against the armchair, moving away. Wanda lets out a breath, and before you can say anything, Tony is complaining that the game is over because the board has been ruined, and she rushes off your lap.

Your face is very hot when Sam makes a snide remark to you, and then you are all saying goodnight. You don't have the courage to look at Wanda when you go up to your room.

//-//

The next day you go skiing.

You absolutely suck at it, but so does everybody else, so nobody really cares.

You don't want to think so much about Wanda's hands on your waist when she teaches you how to do it.

You also don't want to be so annoyed when Vision insists on getting a kiss from her while you are walking back to the cabin.

During the afternoon, you are distracted by a video game with Pietro, extremely surprised that he has invited you to do something. After dinner you go back to your room to read a little, and are astonished when Wanda appears at your door a few minutes after you have gone upstairs.

- How about we watch a sitcom together? - She invites you in, and you shrug as you smile, making space for her to enter your room. She giggles when she notices the open book on your bed. - Of course you brought a book.

You laugh awkwardly as you close the door. Wanda throws herself on your bed, opening the laptop she has brought with her. You take the book out and place it closed on the dresser, before joining her, trying to keep a respectable distance.

She ends up putting on Bewitched, and you are distracted enough by the program.

- Wow, that's kind of wrong. - You comment between giggles. And Wanda laughs lightly, turning the program's attention to you.

- What?

- The joke. - You clarify. - The way they imply that it's okay for boys to behave like that.

- Yeah, I know. - She agrees, turning her attention back to the screen. - But we're still laughing.

- Yeah. - You agree, laughing. - I guess it's okay as long as we don't find it funny in real life.

Wanda makes a noise of agreement with her mouth and then you are silent again.

Two episodes later, Wanda suggests that you eat something. Then you go downstairs to the kitchen, and find the room empty.

- Pietro had called the boys to play soccer. - She says. - And I think Pepper and Tony are in their room.

You nod in understanding, following her around the kitchen. Wanda starts preparing a snack for you two.

- What is it? - You ask as you observe her choice of ingredients. She smiles mischievously.

- My masterpiece. - She says. - Just trust me, you'll like it.

You laugh, nodding. When she warms the bread rolls, and starts to pour oregano on top you let out an exclamation.

- Wanda, are you sure you know what you're doing?

She laughs, shaking her head slightly.

- Trust me on this. - She asks with a smile, starting to cut tomatoes. You cross your arms, not believing that you are actually going to eat that.

And then the sandwich is ready, and Wanda assumes a cheerful posture. She puts the bread on a plate and turns to you, leaving the object on the counter beside you.

You take a piece while she takes another, and together you taste the sandwich while Wanda looks at you expectantly.

It's surprisingly good, and you blink in amazement when you feel the taste, looking away from her to the food.

- Wow, that's good. - You comment before taking another bite. Wanda smiles.

- Really? I'm glad you like it. Vision doesn't like it very much, he says it tastes strange.

You grumble lightly, continuing to eat. Wanda pours you two some soda. You are silent for a moment and when she leaves the phone on the countertop to wash the dishes, your gaze runs quickly across the screen as you reach for your glass.

- Hey, are you into poetry? - you ask as you look at the open Instagram post.

Wanda smiles, nodding.

- That's cool, I think we follow the same page. - You comment quickly pointing to her unlocked cell phone. Wanda looks surprised.

When she finishes washing the dishes, she asks to borrow your cell phone. You spend the next thirty minutes laughing and joking as you compare your Instagram feeds and follower list. You don't want to overthink on how many common interests you have with Wanda.

//-//

On the penultimate day you want to build a snowman.

There is a Hockey game on TV, and everyone seems excited to watch. So you just walk out of the cabin while Tony hands out snacks and drinks to everyone.

You are just finishing assembling the body when you hear footsteps.

- You are very antisocial. - Wanda jokes as she approaches, hands in her pockets. You don't want to think about how adorable she looks.

- Yeah, I know. - You comment with your attention on the snowman. - It's not your friends' fault, by the way, I'm just not a big sports fan.

- All right, I don't see what's so funny about it either. - She says as she stops beside you. - Can I help you with him?

- Let me see your hands. - You ask, and she looks at you in confusion, taking her hands out of her pockets. You deny it. - No gloves, no playing. I don't want you to get hypothermia.

She laughs lightly, putting her hands back in her pockets. You turn your attention back to the snowman.

- We can go for a walk. - You suggest after a moment. - Since we're not going to watch the game.

Wanda smiles, looking away to the cabin.

- Okay.

You finish your snowman in silence. It's decent you think.

- I used to do it all the time. - You tell her as you stand up, putting your hands in your pockets. Wanda looks at you curiously. - But then I grew up and my parents thought it was a kid thing.

- Yeah, I know how that is. - She agrees as you stare at the snowman. - One birthday is all it takes for the treatment to change completely.

You nod in agreement, and then you look at her, signaling for you to go the other way.

You walk side by side in the opposite direction of the cabin.

After spending the whole way talking about the most random subjects, you end up at a small pier, at the edge of the lake that covers the entire back stretch of the cabin. You and Wanda sit side by side on the wood cross-legged.

- We should have brought something hot to drink. - You comment with a smile, hugging your arms for a moment. Wanda nods.

- So, are you enjoying the trip? - Wanda asks and you look away, smiling at the lake.

- I suppose so.

- You suppose? - She replies with amusement, making you laugh.

You clear your throat before speaking again.

- I enjoyed the time I spent with you. - You confess, looking forward. Wanda wiggles her fingers nervously, looking away from you to face the lake as well. - Don't get me wrong, Wanda. Your friends are... nice I guess. But they're not the reason I'm here.

You look at Wanda, and she nods frantically. Your heart is racing, but playing games isn't exactly your thing. You want to know what's going on.

- And you? - you ask, studying her face. - Did you enjoy the time I was here?

- Yes. - Wanda confesses breathlessly, her face flushing slightly.

Swallowing hard, you look away to the lake again. And then you slowly move your hand against the wood, reaching for Wanda's hand next. You give it enough time for her to move away, or to strike you, and she does neither. Feeling your heart soar, you intertwine your hands, holding back a sigh at how good it feels even when wearing gloves.

Several minutes later, you let out an excited exclamation when you hear a noise in the nearby forest. Turning your head, you confirm your suspicions. A small white fox is looking at you curiously.

You help Wanda to get up quietly and slowly so as not to startle the animal.

- Hey. - You say softly to the animal, walking towards it. The fox looks at you wide-eyed, but your posture doesn't frighten him. You smile when he lets you pet him.

- He is so cute. - Wanda comments softly, kneeling down beside you. The fox lies down on the grass as the redhead strokes his head.

He tires of the attention quickly however, and the next moment he gives you a look before running back into the forest. You and Wanda laugh lightly as you two stand up.

You walk back to the cabin in silence, a tension in the air that makes your stomach turn. You don't hold hands, but you walk very close together.

When you are almost to the cabin area, you stand in front of Wanda, pushing her by the waist against a tree. You both sigh breathlessly, but you lose the courage. It's not right, not yet. Resting your forehead on hers, resisting the urge to kiss her, you close your eyes.

- Leave him. - You say and Wanda squeezes her hands in your arms.

Wanda lets out a sigh, closing her eyes like you did, and your faces come closer together.

- I won't share you, Wanda. - You whisper against her lips. - Either you're with me, or you're not.

Resisting the urge to close the distance, you sigh and turn away. Wanda's pupils are dilated as she looks at you. You lock your jaw, putting your hands in your pockets. And then you turn around, and disguise it nicely when Pepper comes out of the cabin, asking where you were, and you just smile and say you went for a walk.

//-//

Vision and Wanda argue on the last day at the cabin.

You frown as your awakened by the volume of the argument. But you decide not to pry, and when Pepper signals for you to join her on her morning walk, you agree.

- You know, you are surprisingly nice. - She comments as you two take a break for some water.

- Thanks, I guess. - You mumble, and she laughs.

- What I mean is that nerds are usually know-it-all types and not at all sociable. - She explains. - You're quiet, but you're fun.

- Who says I'm not a know-it-all. - You retort with amusement, and Pepper laughs as you walk back.

- I'm just saying that it turned out to be nice to invite you over despite everything.

- Despite everything what?

Pepper laughs awkwardly, shaking her head.

- The differences between our groups I say. - She quickly clarifies. You don't perceive the lie. - Maybe there is a chance for us to remain friends after here.

- Why wouldn't we? - you ask confused. Pepper seems to be talking as if it is impossible for you to continue talking to each other after the trip is over, and you don't understand why.

Pepper blinks in embarrassment, and then pats your arm, hurrying her steps.

- It's nothing, I'm just overthinking it. - she says. - I'm sure it will all work out.

You don't ask any more questions because she's walking too fast, and exercise isn't really your thing. You're struggling to keep up.

//-//

After your walk with Pepper, you agreed to let Steve teach you how to play a bit of hockey. And then you all had lunch together, and Wanda avoided all your attempts to start a conversation with her. You figured she was upset with her boyfriend, so you didn't press her.

Later in the afternoon, after you played snowball wars with everyone, and perhaps laughed more than appropriate when Wanda kept hitting Vision in the face, Steve made a fire in the backyard area and everyone gathered around.

- Let's tell some horror stories, please? - Pietro asked as he sat down, and Tony slapped him on the head, laughing.

- You are such a baby. - he sneered, holding out a bottle of whiskey to Steve. You rolled your eyes, impatient with Stark's annoying mania for proving his maturity.

Then he began to share sex stories, and the group seemed happy to join in. The bottle swirled around, and you let it pass you by without taking a sip. It stopped at Wanda, and she drank much more than anyone else.

- And you, Y/N, don't you have any sinful stories to share with the group? - teased Tony ironically, and you rolled your eyes.

- I prefer to be silent.

Tony laughed at her hostility.

- Now all that's left is for you to say you're a virgin! - he sneered, causing the group to laugh. You exchanged a quick glance with Wanda, who didn't even seem to be listening, the whiskey bottle still in her hands.

- I'm not, but if I were that wouldn't be your business - You retort impatiently. Tony whistles impressed.

- Tell us how it was! - he asks excitedly. - I bet it was Jessica Jones who fucked the weirdo!

You stand up abruptly as the group laughs.

- You're drunk, and you're talking shit. - you say angrily. - But if you ever annoy me again, I will punch you right in the face!

Tony seems slightly impressed by your attitude, but he is clearly drunk so he shrugs his shoulders. You then leave, returning to your room.

Non-Reader Povs

- What is your problem? - Pietro complained as soon as Y/N entered the cabin. Tony blinked surprised and alcoholic.

- It was just a joke, it's not my fault she's weird. - He retorted with a wry laugh.

Pietro let out an irritated exclamation.

- You know what? - He spoke angrily, looking at everyone. - What we're doing is wrong.

- What was that? - Vision sneered, but Pietro looked at him seriously.

- You heard me. - he said, getting up. - She's a nice girl and she's been fun to be with. That bet was stupid.

The teens exchange guilty glances, but then Tony and Vision are laughing.

- One hickey and you're in love, Maximoff? - Vision sneered and stood up, as Pietro clenched his jaw.

- You're an asshole.

- Oh, I'm an asshole? - Vision retorted ironically. - This little scene of yours is absurd, treating your friends as if we were the villains of the story. - he says laughing. - The girl is a weirdo who must be absolutely fascinated that people like us even talk to her!

Pietro looks at him impatiently, but Vision does not lose his debauched posture.

- Shut up. - Wanda's drunken speech startles the group. Vision turns to her in surprise, but then he laughs.

- That's excellent. - He says. - Both Maximoffs teaming up against the group.

- You're full of shit. - Wanda exclaimed angrily, getting up, and Vision shook her head. - She's not...

- She's not what dear? - He interrupted. - You know I'm right. In fact, I bet if you go up to her room right now, you won't even need to ask twice and she'll fuck you.

- Vision! - Pietro exclaims angrily, but he stares only at the redhead, who has her jaw clenched.

- Everyone just wants to fuck you, Wandy. - He says. - There's nothing worthwhile beyond that.

Wanda holds back the tears in her eyes, bumping into Vision as she leaves, and the boy laughs, shouting between giggles that he was only joking, but the redhead doesn't turn around.

- That was cruel. - Potts then said, and Vision let out a wry laugh.

- It was just a joke. - He says and sits back down. - You girls are so sentimental.

Pietro then leaves, and Vision rolls his eyes. Steve and Sam exchange a look with Pepper.

- You can't really think it's okay to say something like that to your girlfriend. - Steve said annoyed. Vision laughs, incredulous at Steve's insinuation. - What is it, people? - he replies. - I just said she's hot, how is that a bad thing?

- You know, Pietro is right. - Steve said as he got up. - This whole story is absurd. - Steve, come on. - No, he is right. - Sam then agreed. And then Pepper stood up, exchanging a look with Tony. - Good, then. - Vision exclaims angrily. - Be my guests! I suppose you'll start hanging out with the school's weirdos on Monday then. You guys are a joke. Hypocrites. Vision grumbles before exiting angrily, walking towards the trail. The group exchanged a guilty look.

Reader Pov

You had just finished showering and putting on your pajamas when Wanda came into your room. You frowned in surprise, and let out an exclamation when she pushed you onto the bed and sat you on your lap.

- What are you doing? - you asked, and Wanda just grumbled, trying to unbutton your pajamas, but clearly too drunk to do so. - Wanda, stop. Wanda!

- That's what you want, isn't it? - She retorts with irritation, but her eyes are filled with tears. - Everyone wants to fuck the hot girl.

- Wanda, what are you talking about?

But then she's crying, falling against you. You let your arms go around her, trying to calm her down. She only stops crying when she falls asleep.

You don't know what has happened, but you feel your heart clench. Moving to the bed, you lay Wanda down on the mattress, then cover her with the blanket.

When you consider going to sleep in the living room, she takes your hand and whispers "stay," and you obey her.

//-//

You wake up with Wanda entwined with you. It is warm and comforting, and you smile shyly at the sensation.

The redhead starts to wake up next, grumbling as she buries her face in your neck, making you smile.

- We have to get up. - You whisper to her. - We're leaving.

- In a minute.

She says and it really only takes a moment for her to open her eyes, and be startled by the position. She awkwardly pulls away from your embrace, but still lies there. You turn on the bed to look at her, resting your face on your hand.

- I'm sorry about last night. - She says embarrassed, looking down.

- No problem. - You say. - But what was that about anyway?

Wanda sighs, running her hands through her hair as she stares at the ceiling, her back on the mattress.

- Vision told me some stupid things, and well, I believed him. - She says and you look at her curiously. With your silence, she clarifies. - It was just some comments he used to make about my body, okay? Things like, people are only interested in me because I'm hot.

You frown, surprised and annoyed.

- That's bullshit.

Wanda looks at you, surprised that you said something. You look into her eyes as you speak again.

- Your boyfriend is an insecure scumbag who uses your body insecurities against you. It's sick. - You tell her seriously. - You, Wanda Maximoff, are completely passionate for a thousand reasons other than your looks. Don't let anyone tell you otherwise.

You smile at Wanda's surprised expression, letting your fingers wander across her features.

- Do you really mean that? - she asks insecurely, and you give her a tender look.

- You're sweet. - You start, letting your fingers caress her cheek. - Smart and sincere. You have this different energy, like you never fit anywhere and you're absolutely magnetic. - You tell her. - And of course, you also laugh at my jokes, which suggests that you are as sarcastic and perceptive as I am.

Wanda smiles and closes her eyes for a second, and then looks at you with almost guilt.

- Can I ask you a random question?

- Sure.

- If someone needed to apologize to you, what would be the best way?

- This is a very specific question, Wanda. Should I be concerned? - You retort with mild amusement, and Wanda quickly denies it.

- Come on, answer me. - She asks, and you giggle.

- I don't know, Wanda. - You say laughing, and roll your eyes slightly. - I guess it would depend on what the person did. - You explain, and Wanda looks at you with a frown. - What's that face, what would your answer be then?

- Food. - She says and you look at her with confusion. - The person would only have to buy me food and apologize and I would forgive them.

You let out a laugh, and Wanda follows. And then you assume a thoughtful posture.

- Honestly, I don't think if there is a right way. - You tell her. - I would like the person to be honest with me, and explain to me what happened. - You say, and Wanda nods with a serious expression. - That, or a really cheesy apology act.

- What? - Wanda asks with amusement.

- Yes, like in those old movies. - You clarify with a slight laugh. - If someone apologizes in the rain, or with a serenade at my window, I would probably forgive that person for the shame they are going through for me.

You and Wanda laugh and then your alarm clock starts to ring, signaling that it was already time for everyone to get up and go home. You sigh slightly.

As you sit up in bed, throwing your feet out, Wanda hugs your back, surprising you.

- Thank you. - She says against your ear. - Don't give up on me yet, okay?

You frown in confusion, laughing without understanding Wanda's seriousness. You squeeze your hands together, but then she lets go.

- Is everything all right? - you ask as she turns around on the bed and stands up in front of you. Wanda swallows dryly, nodding. She smiles before she leaves, and you ignore the strange feeling that has settled on the pit of your stomach as you stand up toward the bathroom.

//-//

The way back to your house is strangely silent. It seems that all of Wanda's friends have changed their personalities overnight. Pietro gives you a quick hug across the shoulders as you get out of the car, and Wanda kisses your cheek. Vision doesn't look at you.

You call your friends as soon as you finish packing your things in your room. And everyone is extremely surprised when you share what has happened in the last few days.

When you return to school the next day, you are feeling excited.

Your first class is Biology, which means that you would have some time alone with Wanda, and while you wait for the starting bell, sitting on the benches outside with your friends, Wanda's group passes you by.

You frown as you notice Vision with his arm around Wanda, and she quickly looks away when she notices you watching. You clench your jaw at the childish attitude, and then you are getting up and walking toward the table they have chosen.

- Can I talk to you? - You ask the redhead directly, who seems to have trouble keeping her gaze on you. Her friends also look awkward, as if they are almost embarrassed, and none of them look at you for very long. Completely unlike Vision, who has a smug posture and a wry smile.

- Leave my girlfriend alone, freak. - He then says, and you blink in surprise.

- What is your problem? - You retort in irritation and Vision lets out a wry laugh.

- What is your problem? - He repeats, getting up and facing you. You don't hesitate, but you don't understand why everyone just stares at you. - What did you think was going to happen, huh? That you would start hanging out with the cool kids?

You look at him in confusion, and then he crosses his arms.

- I just want to talk to Wanda.

Vision laughed, looking mocking.

- You're so stupid. - He accused and you took a step back. - The bet is off girl, Wanda has nothing to say.

You blink in confusion, and the redhead is getting up, pulling on her boyfriend's forearm, but you look at them feeling your heart racing.

- What are you talking about?

Vision laughs, releasing Wanda's grip. You think she whispered "Please don't," but you are trying to understand what is going on.

- Oh, your dear friend didn't tell you? - he asks debauchedly. - We had a bet. I was sure you'd be completely obsessed with Wanda by the end of the holiday, and look at you! Here you are. I don't blame you though, Wanda is hot.

You choke in surprise, taking another step back. You risk a glance at the rest of the group, and they have their heads down, guilty looks on their faces. And then you look at Wanda, eyes watering as she clenches her fists. Feeling your heart break, and your stomach clench, you nod.

- Y/N, I can explain. - Wanda starts and you laugh, running your hands through your hair.

- I've always defended you. - You say, putting your hands in your pockets. - When people told me you were false and deceitful, I defended you. I really thought you were different from them.

- I....

- I can't believe I trusted you. - You say. - Never speak to me again, Wanda Maximoff.

You turned around walking away, ignoring the times the redhead called your name as you held back your tears.

//-//

Your mother told the school that you were sick.

That's how you felt anyway.

It had been three days since you had left your room. Bruce, Monica and Natasha were sending you all the school content you were missing, and you struggled to keep your focus on that and not on the heartbreak that seemed to take over your whole body.

The weekend arrived again, and you decided to get some fresh air. You were on your balcony, sipping hot chocolate when Nat came into your yard.

- Hey, stranger. - She greets you with a smile, sitting down on the seat in front of you. You give her a sad smile.

- Hi, Nat.

- How are you?

You shrug, and she sighs.

- It will pass, I promise. - She says and you drink some of your chocolate. - By the way, I'm suspended.

- What? - You ask in surprise, and she giggles, showing you the bandage on the fingers of her right hand.

- I punched Vision in the nose shortly after you left the cafeteria. - She tells you, and you widen your eyes in surprise. - I didn't say anything before because I didn't want you to feel guilty.

- Nat! - you exclaim, slightly upset, looking at her hand. - You didn't have to do that.

- I know. - she says with a slight laugh. - But you are my friend, and he is an idiot. You're a dork who doesn't have the strength to hurt a fly, but I have a feeling you'd do the same for me.

You laugh, nodding.

- I would probably get beat up in reality.

Nat laughs in agreement.

You are silent for a moment, until Nat speaks again.

- I hate to see you like this. - She comments, and you sigh, leaving the coffee mug on the table.

- I hate feeling like this too.

Nat sighs, opening her arms. You accept her invitation to hug her, and sit down next to her on the bench, letting her wrap you in a side hug.

- You'll come out of this, dear. - She starts to say as she strokes your hair. - Next year you'll be in college, with so many people wanting to get into your pants that you won't even remember who Wanda Maximoff was.

You laugh shyly.

- I hope you are right. - You grumble, closing your eyes.

- I always am.

//-//

You go back to school the following week.

Your body always seems to notice that Wanda is in the same room as you, even though she is meters away, but you learn to deal with the feeling.

You talked to the biology teacher on Monday morning. Apparently, the news quickly spread throughout the school, and she did not refuse to change your partner.

It wasn't an ideal scenario knowing that everyone in the school was feeling sorry for you, but at least you wouldn't have to talk to Wanda in class.

And so two weeks passed.

You were almost getting used to the feeling as you walked towards the main building, after stopping by the library and returning the physics books you were using, when you heard a commotion in the courtyard.

There was already a circle of students around, and you were considering turning around, because fights are not really your thing, but you had a feeling you should check it out.

As you slipped in among the students, you let out a surprised exclamation.

- Bruce! - You shouted as you threw the bag on the ground and lunged forward, but the boy who was fighting with your friend just turned around when you jumped at him, breaking free of your grip and laughing with irony and anger. He slapped you in the face that drew a surprised chorus from the crowd. You staggered back with the impact, feeling your face burn. But you stepped forward again, but he gave you a hard shove that knocked you to the ground. As you got up to go forward again, someone grabbed you around the waist. - Pietro, let me go! Help him!

You let out another exclamation when the boy punched Bruce in the face, but Pietro pushed you away from the fight, and Steve held you by the arms in the crowd. Pietro lunged at the boy next, while Bruce fell unconscious.

You broke free of Steve's grip and ran to your friend, and then there were teachers all around you, and you were all being led into the principal's office.

The counselor motioned for you to sit in one of the chairs to wait your turn, and you used this moment to send messages to your friends. Monica told you that she heard about the fight, but that she was in the history room when it happened. Natasha didn't answer, and when she appeared in front of you, you frowned.

- Nat, Bruce he...

- I know. - She interrupted seriously with an almost tearful expression. - He was fighting for me.

- For you? What?

Nat shook her head, looking toward the direction door.

- I told him not to get involved, but he is stubborn. - She says and then takes a deep breath. - That boy over there, his name is Clint. He's my ex. He... he hit me.

- Whoa, what?

- I know, it's too much to explain. - She says. - Me and Bruce, we... we've been going out for a few weeks now. And Clint wasn't happy when he found out. I told Bruce not to get involved but…

- Hey, Nat breathes. - You interrupt by seeing her eyes filled with tears. - This is not your fault.

You hug your friend, trying to calm her down. It doesn't take long for Monica to reach you two.

Soon the director calls you to give your side of the story, and you just tell him that you arrived in the middle of the fight. As you leave, the principal asks you to go to the infirmary and only then you remember that you were beaten.

You give up the idea of getting a bandage when you find Pietro and the group of friends, including Wanda, in the infirmary, but as soon as the nurse lays eyes on you, she pulls you in, sitting you down on one of the free beds.

She starts grumbling that the students have decided to behave like savages as she rushes over with the first aid kits to attend to all the students who were in the infirmary. You don't quite understand what happened, but it seemed that some kids had made a mess in the pesticide gardening class, so there were several students with red spots on their arms complaining of pain.

- It's okay, I can do it. - You tell the nurse as soon as she approaches you with the first aid kit. She looks at you suspiciously, but then a student at your back lets out a complaint and she sighs, handing the items to you as she leaves. You get up to look in the small mirror on the edge of the bed. There is a small cut on your cheek. That guy really hit hard.

While you were preparing the alcohol swab, Wanda walked over to you. You stared at her reflection in the mirror.

- I can help you with this. - She said about the bandage.

- I don't need your help. - You retorted harshly. Wanda looked at the floor.

- I am sorry.

You blinked in surprise, and turned away in irritation.

- No. - You warned, and Wanda swallowed hard. She looked at you, ready to start talking again, but then you shook your head. - Don't you dare.

- Please…

But you left right away, bumping into her shoulder.

Almost four weeks, and your chest still hurts just the same.

You think the nurse has called you, but you keep walking towards the exit.

When you reached the outer courtyard, you collapsed.

Sitting on the floor, and trying to control your breathing and your crying, you were startled when someone touched your shoulders. Monica didn't ask questions, she just hugged you.

- I can't do it, Mon. - You said between sobs. - I love her so much it feels like I'm going to suffocate.

- Shh, it's okay. - Monica tried to calm you down as she ran her hands down your back.

- Why can't I move on? She hurt me, why can't I stop loving her? - you asked in desperation. Monica just kept calming you.

- I know it feels like the end of the world now. - Monica says. - But I promise it will pass.

You cried for a few more minutes, trying to push or smother the pain away. It wasn't fair the way Wanda had your broken heart in her hand.

//-//

Bruce did not suffer any serious injuries.

You visited him in the infirmary as soon as he was released from the principal's office. He was worried about your swollen crying eyes, but you assured him that everything was fine.

And then he told you that he was in love with Natasha, and that Clint had been expelled. You shook his hand, saying that everything would be all right now. Soon Nat was in the room with you, hugging Bruce, while you went out with Monica to get something to eat.

The week passed quietly after this.

Your friends started the "Moving on squad", and they did everything to keep you distracted and well cared for. It was sweet and caring, and it was enough to keep your feelings well under control.

A few days after that mess, you needed to buy tomato sauce for your mother and found Pietro Maximoff in the supermarket checkout line.

- Hey. - He greeted you politely. You felt your heart race at the possibility that he was with his sister.

- Hi, Pietro. - You answered in the same tone.

You were checking around for signs of the redhead, but Pietro was alone. He said something about the prices, and you just grumbled in agreement, and then it was your turn.

In the parking lot, while you were unlocking your bike, he approached you again.

- I want to apologize to you. - He announced as he approached, and you let out a sigh.

- Look Pietro...

- No. - He interrupts with a quick smile. - I meant it. I'm really sorry. You're a nice girl, and we were idiots.

You stare at him for a moment, then go back to picking the lock.

- Is that all?

- Yes. - He confirms with a wry smile. But when he turns around, you call out to him.

- I... Thank you for that day. - You say. - You pulled me out of the fight. I probably would have got hurt if... what I mean is...

- It's all right.- He interrupts with a smile. - It was nothing.

You nodded and he smiled, turning again and walking away. You finished unlocking the lock and got on your bike.

//-//

The next week you were surprised to find a box of chocolate in your closet.

Nat exchanged a mischievous look with you, and you rolled your eyes absentmindedly, opening the package. It didn't have a name on it, and only said "you are cute".

- I can't believe you have a secret admirer. - Monica commented excitedly when you told her during lunch. Bruce and Natasha were sitting next to you, laughing lightly as they talked among themselves.

- Neither do I. - You comment with humor. - But the chocolates were good at least.

- I think it’s sweet. - She comments with a smile, and you shrug, blushing.

- It's weird. - You say with a slight laugh, and Monica squeezes your red cheeks lightly, saying that you're adorable, making you laugh. - Damn, I'm terrible at these things.

You start talking about the upcoming exams after that, and then the break ends.

It is in the last period of PE that you speak with Pietro again several days after you saw him last.

- Hey. - He greets you with an excited nod. You smile politely as you tie your shoelaces.

- Hi. - You say as he joins you.

- Are you going to the game on Saturday? - he asks, causing you to frown.

- I'm not...

- My god this guy never gives up. - He interrupts with a scowl, looking at something behind you. You turn your head to see what it is, and notice Vision talking to Wanda several feet ahead, near the bleachers. The redhead looks impatient, and you feel your heart ache just by looking directly at her. Shifting your gaze back to Pietro, you notice that he is still grimacing. - They've been broken up for over a month and he still keeps insisting.

You blink in surprise and Pietro looks back at you.

- They broke up?

- I thought you knew. - He quips, slightly surprised, and then shrugs his shoulders. - They broke up that day in the yard. Wanda slapped him in the face in front of the whole school, everyone talked about it for weeks.

- I'm not really into school gossip. - You comment and Pietro laughs.

- Of course not.

You stand up next, your gaze quickly shifting to Wanda, but you disguise it by looking at Pietro, who has an expectant expression on his face. Then you remember the question and let out an exclamation, running your hands through your hair.

- I'm not into sports, Pietro. - You tell him and he nods in understanding, looking upset. - But I like the food. And Natasha loves the games, so maybe I'll show up with my friends there.

Pietro lets out an excited exclamation, and gives you a pat on the shoulder, saying he hopes you can make it, before heading out onto the court.

You ignore the nervous feeling in your stomach when your gaze meets Wanda's on the other side of the court, and you quickly turn away, starting to do your exercises for class.

//-//

You were slightly surprised by Natasha's outfit. She was covered head to toe in school colors, down to a commemorative hat and matching socks. You looked at her with a raised eyebrow, but she just smiled as she pulled you by the hand to Monica's truck.

- How is the story about the secret admirer going? - Nat asked as you sat in the back seat, and Monica drove to school and Bruce fiddled with the radio.

- I received flowers on Wednesday. - You tell with a smile. - And a collection of special gift vouchers.

- What are these? - She asked curiously, and Monica laughed lightly as you felt your cheeks flush.

- It's a special kind of ... eh ... vouchers for hugs, kisses, that sort of thing. - You mumbled clumsily and Natasha laughed.

- My goodness, look at your face! - She laughed. - You are loving how corny this is.

You grumbled with a hot face, turning your gaze to the window. Bruce chose a very good song next, and your friends started singing along. It didn't take long before you joined them.

//-//

The school stadium was quite crowded. Senior year games always had scouts from universities, so you weren't surprised by family members, and well-dressed strangers in the stands, as well as faculty.

- Wow, Mom is going to have fun today. - Monica commented as two you walked to the bleachers. She was looking at her cell phone, and showed you a picture of two glasses of wine that Maria had sent her. - She has a date.

- Have you met them? - you asked curiously, and Monica made a noise with her mouth of agreement.

- She's from the Air Force. Very pretty and fun, and she treated me very well. - She told you with a smile. - I hope everything works out between them, Mom deserves to be happy.

You nod in agreement and then you find empty chairs. Bruce and Natasha join you many moments later, carrying the food.

- Yay, fries. - Monica says excitedly as Natasha distributes the food among you.

The band then enters the stadium. And the crowd seems excited, you and Monica laugh at Natasha's excitement.

As soon as the band makes their formation, the cheerleaders enter the field and the crowd cheers. You try not to look at Wanda so immediately, but that is exactly what you do. When they are all in the center, and finish the performance with lots of applause, the director gets up on the stage and starts announcing the game.

- And without further ado, West View High let's...

The principal is interrupted abruptly by one of the students. You and the audience watch intently as Pepper nudges the principal on the shoulder, and he turns around confused and surprised. She smiles innocently as she quickly takes the microphone from his hand.

- We had a slight change of plans, West View. - she announces, smiling. And then the band is moving on, and you recognize the music quickly. It was an old rock song. The audience sings along excitedly, surprised and in shock, but still happy with the music.

As the music plays, Pepper turns back to the director, and they discuss something. He lets out a sigh and shakes his head, and she gives an excited little jump, and then is joining the cheering team again.

When the song ends, it is not Pepper who comes up to the podium with the microphone, but Wanda, which generates a lot of comments from the audience.

- Is that? - Natasha starts and you feel your stomach turn.

- Yep.

- Hello West View. - Wanda begins looking nervous, the audience looks at her in anticipation. - Many of you must think me a complete bitch after the rumors that surfaced a few weeks ago.

- Oh my God. - You mumble clumsily, feeling the stares of some people on you.

- I think I should explain what happened. - Wanda says tucking a strand of hair behind her ear, and ignoring the comments from the audience, she continues talking. - My ex-boyfriend and my best friends decided to make a bet. - She explains, and you clench your jaw. - He bet my friends that if I gave even the slightest bit of attention to our colleague, Y/N Y/L/N, she would become obsessed with me in one weekend. - The audience seems shocked by the confessions, but Wanda was looking at you. - The funny thing is, it was the exact opposite. Y/N is this amazing girl, sweet and caring, and I can't stop thinking about her. It must be because I am completely in love with her. - She confessed, and you felt your eyes fill with tears. - But I blew it. I was mean and cruel, and I'm sorry. I'm here to apologize to you Y/N, and you don't even have to forgive me. I just wanted you to know.

The audience erupted in murmurs at the confession, and you were in shock to react. Wanda was also teary-eyed.

A mixture of "forgive her" and " start the game" and various other comments began to grow louder, and then Director Fury was approaching Wanda, and asking for the microphone back. She took one last look at you, before bowing her head and walking off the field. The audience let out a mixed chorus of celebration and sadness, and then Monica was pushing you slightly, and you waved frantically as you hurried to catch up to Wanda.

- I can't believe you did that! - You shout at her as soon as you reach her in the gymnasium hallway, the noise of the game starting muffled by the distance.

Wanda turns around in surprise, wiping away tears.

- I just...

- When I said the perfect apology would be like a cliché, I can't believe you took it seriously. - You comment as you approach laughing lightly. Wanda looks surprised at your friendly posture. - You are such a dork.

And then you kiss her as you bring your hands to her waist, and she sighs in astonishment, but responds the next second, trembling as your tongues touch.

You push her against the wall of the hallway, and she slips her arms around your shoulders, melting into the kiss. You separate your mouths for breath.

- I'm sorry. - She asks again with her eyes closed. - I'm really sorry.

- I know. - You agree breathlessly. - Just... don't ever do anything like that again.

She nods in agreement, kissing you again. It's delicious the way your tongues feel together, making your head spin. You are blushing because Wanda is sighing and making a warm tightness rise in the pit of your stomach.

- I love you too, Wands. - You confess against her lips and she opens her eyes in surprise, you look at her with a smile. - I guess ever since you laughed at my joke in biology class.

Wanda lets out a short laugh, her eyes sparkling with joy.

- I love you. - She answers by kissing you quickly. - I love you. - She repeats and starts depositing kisses all over your face, making you laugh. She repeats and repeats until you kiss her again, intensely this time.

You stay like this for several minutes. Exchanging not-so-innocent kisses against the gymnasium wall. Until the first half of the game is over, and you hear the sound of the players returning to the locker room, and then Pietro is reaching for you, making a false threatening posture when he notices your swollen lips, and Wanda's lipstick on your face.

- Please get a room. - He then jokes, continuing on his way to the locker room.

You and Wanda agree to leave the stadium, wanting to enjoy some time together without the stares of the audience on you.

You two end up in the back of Monica's truck, staring up at the stars, your hands entwined.

- So it was you who sent the presents. - You conclude by looking at Wanda quickly, to catch her blushing cheeks.

- I was trying to find a way to talk to you. - She explained, turning to you, releasing her hand only to stroke your cheek. - That's why I made the voucher “worth a conversation”.

You laughed lightly, looking at her fondly.

- I liked the kiss coupon. - You say with amusement and she raises her eyebrow, smiling.

- Yeah? - She replies, bringing your faces together and stealing a lingering kiss from you.

- Best one.

Wanda laughs, pulling away a little. You swallow dryly, watching her carefully.

- What happens now? - you ask, and Wanda looks into your eyes.

- I don't know. - She says. - But I hope we'll be together in the end.

You smile, nodding.

- We will. - You assure her before adjusting your position to embrace her. Wanda snuggles against you, enjoying your warmth.

#wanda maximoff #wanda #wanda maximoff x reader #wanda maximoff x you #wanda x reader #wandaxreader #wandaxyou #wandamaximoff x reader #wandamaximoffxreader #wanda maximoffxreader #marvel imagines #high school au

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yurimother · 5 years ago

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How 'She-Ra' Delivered on Queer Promises and Helped Revolutionized LGBTQ Representation

DreamWorks's She-Ra and the Princesses of Power has already cemented its place among the short but rapidly growing list of children’s animated shows with impactful LGBTQ representation. Showrunner Noelle Stevenson made it a point to push and fight for more diverse characters in every aspect from race, to personality, to sexual and gender identity. However, the finale of the GLADD Award-nominated program delivered on a revolutionary promise built up throughout all five seasons and completed one of the greatest queer narratives ever seen in children’s media.

As She-Ra progressed, Stevenson became more encouraged and inspired to pressure executives to allow more and more explicit LGBTQ characters and relationships. While ever-present in the series, season one only featured a background couple, Spinnerella (Noelle Stevenson) and Netossa (Krystal Joy Brown), and of course, the famous dance sequence between Catra (AJ Michalka) and Adora (Aimee Carrero). While this amount of representation is comfortably leagues ahead of the vast majority of cartoons, the show only upped the ante and the amount of representation from there. Season 2 introduced viewers to George (Chris Jai Alex) and Lance (Regi Davis), Bow's fathers. The series presents them in a normalized fashion as a happy gay couple in love that built a family together. Jacob Tobia's non-binary Double Trouble featured heavily in season four, making them one of the first non-binary characters in children's animation and one of the first to holding an integral role in the show, a major step in representing such identities.

The many achievements and strides She-Ra in LGBTQ representation featured in She-Ra will doubtlessly affect other projects in the industry and help further programs walk a similar path. However, the greatest queer story inShe-Ra is the spectacular series-long arc exploring the relationship and dynamics between de facto antagonist Catra and protagonist Adora. The former friends, who grew up together in the ranks of the Horde, turn enemies at the start of the series after Adora gains the power of She-Ra and betrays Catra, joining the Rebellion.

Fans quickly began speculating on the nature of Adora and Catra's relationship during season one, mainly because of the Princess Prom dance scene. After the young women shared a charged and sinister dance, fans quickly began supporting and analyzing "Catradora." The next three seasons would gradually and gracefully define both characters' complicated feelings for each other. Initially, Catra attempts to rationalize Adora's leaving as a relief or else forces herself to appear apathetic towards it. She continuously uses the excuse that she is no longer living under Adora's shadow to gradually build up more power, rising through the ranks of the Horde while stepping on those who helped her.

While Catra's motivations are appropriately layered and complex, it becomes clear that she is attempting to win approval, to be less alone than she has felt since Adora abandoned her. She seeks others' approval, including her abusive maternal figure, Shadow Weaver (Lorraine Toussaint), and the cruel Hordak (Keston John). However, Catra does not realize until confronted by Double Trouble's gut-wrenching and emotionally resonating analysis of her psyche. They inform Catra that the reason she is alone and abandoned, she pushes others away. The realization that her problems and loneliness are by her own doing combine with her guilt for betraying her allies Scorpia (Lauren Ash) and Entrapta (Christine Woods), leads Catra to an emotional breakdown.

Thee fifth and final season of She-Ra opens with Catra still plagued by loneliness and self-doubt. She starts to form a bond with Prime's captor Glimmer (Karen Fukuhara), seeing her guilt reflected by Glimmer's regret for trying to use the Heart of Etheria's power. Eventually, Catra learns about Adora's impending rescue attempt and the villainous Prime's plants to capture her once she arrives. Ultimately, all the feelings and circumstances surrounding Catra clash together as she remembers a childhood promise that she and Adora would always be friends. The revelation that she loves Adora finally causes Catra to turn and do "one good thing," protect Adora. She frees Glimmer to prevent Adora from walking into Prime's trap; thus, Catra becomes the Horde's prisoner.

Adora's character arch is much less tragic than Catra. The "frenemies" clash multiple times throughout the early seasons with an ever-shifting dynamic that hints at their intricate relationship and confused romantic feelings. But, at the end of season three, Catra's reckless plan against Adora almost leads to Eternia's destruction. As Catra taunts and blames Adora for her suffering, Adora seemingly ends their conflicted relationship, noting that Catra's misdeeds are all her own, "You made your choice, now live with it."

In the final season, Adora has lost the powers of She-Ra. But, she continues to charge into battle headfirst, exposing herself and her tendencies to put other's wellbeing before her own. This tactic mirrors why Adora left Catra's side in the first place all the way back in the first season. She places more importance on duty and service to others than herself and her friend. Later, while Adora, Bow (Marcus Scribner), and Entrapta are traveling towards Horde Prime, Catra sends a signal to their ship, apologizing for everything she has done while teleporting Glimmer to them. Adora decides that she cannot leave Catra behind, and the Best-Friend Squad hurries to rescue Catra from the Horde. Adora saves Catra not only from Prime's vile clutches but her loneliness too. Adora's exclamation "You matter to me" is a powerful and victorious moment, as the two friends turned enemies unite, and acknowledge their connection.

Unfortunately, even after the Adora and Catra are together again, conflict continues to rise between them and with themselves. Catra feels unlovable because of her past and so convinces herself that Adora will not accept her feelings. She continues to struggle with abandonment, especially when Adora willingly takes the responsibility of a suicide mission to destroy the Heart of Etheria, yelling, "It doesn't always have to be you." Sadly, Adora again abandons her, putting the good of everyone else above herself and Catra. Acknowledging that Adora, "Always sacrifices everything for everyone else," Catra runs away. However, upon realizing that Prime is moments away from taking control of the Heart and killing Adora, Shadow Weaver and her run to rescue the girl she loves.

As Adora journeys to the Heart, she sees and an illusion of Catra, envisioning that her friend meets her to approach the suicide mission together. Soon, Adora faces a vision of Mara (Zehra Fazal), the previous She-Ra, who tells her that she does not always need to sacrifice herself and is deserving of love too. She becomes trapped without her powers by a first-ones' guardian until Catra and Shadow Weaver save her. Telling Adora to go on, Catra stays to fight the beast in vain. Moments before destroying the Heart and herself, Adora finally chooses to return to Catra, to put Catra and her own happiness over her sense of duty.

As Adora and Catra approach the Heart, the former almost succumbs to Prime's power and has one final vision. Adora dreams of living a life in peace in Brightmoon alongside her friends, Glimmer and Bow, and with her loving, playful partner Catra by her side. In the apparent final moments before her death, Catra reaches out to Adora. At last, the two confess their love for each other and embrace in a momentous kiss, restoring She-Ra's power to Adora. Renewed in strength and standing beside her beloved, Adora finally destroys Horde Prime. The series ends as Adora and Catra plan to travel together and restore magic to the universe and fades to black as the couple prepares to take their next journey together.

as Adora and Catra plan to travel together and restore magic to the universe and fades to black as the couple prepares to take their next journey together.

She-Ra and the Princesses of Power has always been a powerhouse of LGBTQ representation, especially the final season. For example, it heavily features former background characters and married couple Spinnerella and Netossa in leading roles, as Netossa attempts to recover her wife’s mind from Prime. However, the relationship between Catra and Adora is not only the series highlight but a revolutionary in LGBTQ representation in children's television.

LGBTQ history in children's media and cartoons is disappointingly brief and, at times, unpleasant. Early examples mostly featured coded queer characters with harmful and stereotypical traits, such as the Silver Spooner from Dexter's Laboratory. Some works were able to include less harmful depictions. Networks allowed characters like Richie from Static Shock, who is gay, to exist as long as their identity was kept extremely subtextual.

Slowly some more limited progress was made, and a few less offensive or hidden characters were permitted to appear in one-off and minor roles. Nelvana's Canadian animated sitcom, 6teen included many vague but most neutral references to homosexuality and eventually a one-off character Jean, who says that she is "gay" and has a girlfriend. Notably, this 2009-episode marks not only one of the first moments of a character confirming their sexuality but also using the word "gay." This feat is so rarely replicated even in LGBTQ family media that even giants like Steven Universe do not include it. Outside of pedantic educational programs on minor networks, it may be the only time someone said "the-G-word" in such media until 2019's Kippo and the Age of Wonderbeasts (live-action sitcom Andi Mack on Disney Channel also used the term that year). Sadly, American showings cut 6Teen's references to homosexuality, and the episode featuring Jean never aired at all outside Canada.

When most people look back to the beginning of the recent small boom in cartoon LGBTQ representation, they point to The Legend of Korra. In 2014, the series finally ended with female leads Korra and Asami taking hands and going on a private vacation in the spirit world. The Korra moment set the LGBTQ fandom on fire. Even so, the show faced incredible resistance and backlash. After the final episode aired, creator Bryan Konietzko and Michael Dante DiMartino had to go online to confirm that the somewhat ambiguous finale indeed depicted a same-sex romance. They then began to face backlash from a section of the fandom who believed bringing this badass bisexual moment to television was only for fanservice or to forward an agenda.

The Legend of Korra was a revolution in modern children's television, putting cracks in the oppressive dam that kept such dynamics out of the limelight and slowly pushed back against the status quo, allowing for more LGBTQ representation. Now, over five years after Korra, numerous children's programs feature queer characters in minor and supporting roles, often more explicitly than Korra was able to do. The Loud House includes a main bisexual character, and there are queer characters and couples in multiple works, including but not limited to Gravity Falls, Adventure Time, and Craig of the Creek.

The most notable LGBTQ representation in a children's cartoon comes from Rebeca Sugar's incredible creation, Steven Universe. As with She-Ra, LGBTQ characters make up a large portion of the cast and it features several groundbreaking LGBTQ scenes, including the iconic wedding of Ruby and Sapphire.

Sadly, many of these works had to fight tooth and nail or suffer through horrific backlash because of their dedication to diversity. Alabama banned an episode of Arthur that featured a gay wedding, and the depiction of lesbian mothers in Clifford the Bid Red Dog caused some parents and organizations to speak out against it. Perhaps most famous of all, Rebecca Sugar had to struggle to put LGBTQ representation on the small screen. Ultimately, to make the wedding scene happen, Sugar had to lay everything on the table and was willing to see themselves separated from the show and have it end to bring their vision to life. Unfortunately, many other countries censor the show to remove LGBTQ content. Still, Sugar's tireless work has pushed the boundaries of LGBTQ representation in children's media so incredibly far, allowing shows like She-Ra to exist.

The recent rapid progress of LGBTQ representation becomes apparent when comparing She-Ra to the "originator," Korra. The series share similar themes and mutually place importance on diversity in its main cast. At the climax of both programs, two female main characters became romantic partners for the other. However, the differences are what truly sets them apart and highlights the progress representation has made. Back in 2014, holding hands and staring into each other's eyes was the most action Korra could feature.

However, a myriad of queer characters and identities perforate She-Ra, all of which are more apparent and obvious thanks to actions including kisses, confessions, and other actions. This difference is especially true in season five, where even the title cards feature Netossa and Spinnerella engaged in a passionate kiss. Of course, the main couple was permitted a full on-screen confession and kiss, as Catra and Adora locked lips in the final episode. Finally, many "critics" complained that Korra and Asami's relationship came out of nowhere, despite it progressing the show’s last two seasons. If one were to assert the same claim about She-Ra, they need to completely ignore how Stevenson built Adora and Catra's romantic relationship as a fundamental aspect of the show from the very start.

She-Ra's depiction of queer characters was deliberate, explicit, and incredible. Not only did LGBTQ side characters express their identities in a variety of ways, but the main couple also got to show their love with both words and a kiss. Furthermore, and perhaps even more importantly, the main couple in She-Ra got a happen ending and a future for them and the viewers to imagine and look towards with excitement. Sadly, many LGBTQ characters and couples do not get to experience such conclusions. For decades, queer relationships ended in tragedy, often with the death of one or more queer characters killed off as part of the "bury your gays" trope. Even if the characters live, narratives rarely provided a happy future for those with queer identities. Sadly, this trend is alive and well. Recent examples include Adam from Voltron: Legendary Defender and Annika and Neha from The Dragon Prince.

Stevenson actively set out to avoid this trope in She-Ra, telling the Los Angeles Times, "I can't see another gay character die on TV for the moment." Not only did she not kill Adora and Catra, or any of the show's other queer characters, she gave Adora and Catra, the two lesbian leads in love, a happy ending. The show even offers viewers and Adora a glimpse of one possible future for the couple in the final vision of domestic bliss in Brightmoon. Both Adora and Catra struggle and suffered greatly, but they were allowed a happy ending and the opportunity to look forward to a life together. For the two main characters of a children's cartoon to achieve such a fantastic ending in such an explicit way is a genuinely revolutionary moment of representation, proudly standing alongside defining scenes like and Ruby and Sapphire’s wedding in Steven Universe. Importantly, both shows are made by queer creators, showing young viewers that people like them can achieve and create great things and that there are those out there fighting for them. For these reasons, She-Ra and the Princesses of Power is one of the single most significant works of LGBTQ representation in children's media.

Queer representation in children's media matters so much, likely more than it does in any other medium. It normalizes LGBTQ identities for families and sends a powerful message to all LGBTQ children who may be feeling sad or alone or sacred: 'You are not alone, you matter, and you are accepted.' These words, implied with every positive depiction of queer identities, save so many children and young adults from unnecessary suffering and sometimes even saves lives. Noelle Stevenson and She-Ra will likely create giant waves in the medium just as Steven Universe did before it, and generations of queer people, myself included, wait with bated breath to see what results from it.

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dottiechan · 3 years ago

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ICEBREAKER Pt. 1

Read on AO3 (link in bio)

Pairing: Crosshair x Reader x Hunter; Tech x Reader (platonic)

Wordcount: 2389

Summary: Tech watches on helplessly as his brothers' affection for you threaten to ruin the squad.

Warnings: cursing, yearning

You’re just as cold on the inside as the ice is under your boots. It crunches with every step you take, and your heart seems to beat along with the fall of your boots, aching. You feel unsteady, almost enough to miss the tracks running in the snow right in front of you. You pause and crutch down, gloved fingers dipping into the indentations as you grumble to yourself. It’s not even your turn to scope out the area where you’re setting up camp, and besides, there is a literal tracking genius in your squad - it really shouldn’t be you who’s out here in the snow and ice, eyes straining against the blinding white of the planet, fingers freezing off as you set up perimeter alarms. And yet you just volunteered for the less than ideal task without explanation, not understanding your own decision either.

At least Tech offered to tag along, but you suspect he’s simply had enough of his brothers for a while. Not that you can blame him.

“Fascinating.”

You sigh, internally begging him to stop talking as you stand, abandoning the tracks after deciding they most likely belong to a lone whitefang. You have enough on your plate right now, with Hunter still being pissy and Crosshair avoiding you like the plague, and silence would be much more preferable right now to listening to one of Tech’s rambles.

“Did you know that this moon’s surface is almost entirely composed of water?”

“No.”

“Despite the subzero surface temperature, there are subsurface oceans underneath the ice that are warmed by the moon’s internal heat.”

“Uh-huh.”

“I wish we could stay long enough for me to study the subsurface flora and fauna. There might be plants underneath the ice that-”

“Tech.”

“-that use chemosynthesis-”

“Tech!”

“What?”

He has the decency to look flustered, one hand gripping the datapad tightly, the other flying up to adjust his goggles as he peers up at you. You didn’t mean to sound so harsh, but sometimes you just can’t help it. Sometimes, the confinement of the Marauder is enough to turn you into a ticking time bomb, irritated by the slightest seemingly innocent things. And you’ve had more than just mere sparks to flare your temper as of late.

...

His rifle is spotless, and yet he’s still scrubbing it as if his life depended on it.

Maybe it does, because if he jumps up and lowers his guard for a second, he’s out the ship and off to find you and Tech. Maybe you’re a fool sometimes, a god damn nuisance, a person he still couldn’t grow used to, but you belong with them now, you’re theirs, you’re his, and that means something to him. You frustrate him beyond reason, and he often grows callous and agitated because he refuses to allow himself to feel the emotions you elicit from him whenever you’re near him.

Even now, on an ice planet, the mere thought of you infects him with a sweet, sweet jungle fever that knocks him off his feet.

And he’s supposed to be angry now, Crosshair reminds himself. After all, you almost gotten yourself killed on Bracca, and almost broke him in the process.

“They’ve been gone for too long,” Hunter grumbles as he paces up and down like a caged nexu craving to run free. But lately Crosshair began to suspect that he craves something else, someone else, and the thought has his throat tightening in jealousy. He’s been watching, and he convinced himself that he’d misread the signs until he saw the same agitation reflect in his brother’s eyes that he himself has to wrestle with every day.

If it ever came down to your choice, he knows he wouldn’t be it, and he hates living with this knowledge.

Hunter has all the things you seem to like - unlimited kindness, longing looks, smirks that turn a little too soft when directed at you, broad shoulders he caught you staring at more times than he can count. Deep down, he’s still hoping it will never come to you having to choose, but it’s impossible not to wish to be in the centre of your attention. You drive him insane, but you also make him want to commit and stop fighting and lay down his weapons for once in his god damn life.

“Relax. They’re probably fine.”

The screen to their left lights up, and Hunter rushes across the ship in long strides before exhaling in relief. “The proximity alarms are online. They should be heading back soon.”

Crosshair sucks in a breath, worried about seeing his own emotions sitting behind Hunter’s eyes as well.

...

You were assigned to assist the Bad Batch for an unspecified period of time some months ago. You’re a versatile field agent, specialising in both stealth and combat casualty care, one of the few volunteers who were qualified enough to join the GAR. Oh, and you’re also clearly mistrusted by your new squad as they flip out the very moment you risk yourself in the line of duty. You’re not stupid, you weighed the risks carefully, and you trusted your abilities to see you through the job unharmed.

But ever since the incident on Bracca, you’re given the cold shoulder by most on the squad, and for once, the scenery matches your mood.

And yet Tech deserves better than to be cut off like that. He deserves to be listened to, and appreciated as the good man he is. You’re friends, but in moments like these, you think you don’t deserve his friendship.

“Look, I’m... I’m sorry, okay? But right now, I have too much on my mind to think about, umm, chemo...”

“Chemosynthesis?”

“Yeah, that.”

“I think I understand,” he nods, satisfied with your half-assed apology for the time being as he goes back to scanning the vast icy desert stretching as far as the eye can see. The Marauder’s lights blink in the background, orange against the dark blue of the growing darkness that surrounds you. It’s like a beacon, a sign that promises warmth, and you gaze at it longingly until you remember that you’ll have to go back to Crosshair’s scowl and Hunter’s disapproving frown and Wrecker’s awkward little smiles. Somehow, the ice is preferable once more, and the snow that just began to fall in soft flakes is little more than a mild annoyance.

“Well, aside from a few distant life forms-”

“Whitefangs.”

“Yes, most likely whitefangs - aside from those, we should be quite safe inside the ship for tonight.”

“Yeah,” you sigh. “You might be. I’m not the most popular with the squad right now, remember?”

“You are a valued addition,” Tech declares, and the certainty in his voice releases inside you the emotional equivalent of a sucker punch. All you can do is stand, and fight the sting of tears in your eyes. You’re confident, but you never in your wildest dreams imagined how difficult it would be to live up to the expectations of a special unit. You also know your worth, but it’s hard to keep on believing in yourself steadfastly when the rest of your squad doubts your every move. “Which is why the prospect of losing you elicits a rather severe emotional reaction in us. It is rare for regs to warm up to us as well as you have, let alone volunteers. Aside from the obvious tactical disadvantage losing you would mean, I believe it is a little more personal than that.”

...

Hunter knows something is off even before one of the alarms is triggered - whatever it is, it is within five clicks of the ship, making you and Tech plenty exposed before he could do anything. He was straining his ear simply to keep you all safe - so what if he accidentally heard your muffled voice, or the soft crunch of snow underneath your boots?

But now is not the time to be idle, and he knows it. He would never forgive himself if something happened to his squad. And to you, he corrects himself almost softly as he grabs his helmet and checks his weapons quickly. Despite the fact that he’s still angry about your previous carelessness, he cannot deny the forbidden yearning coiling in his stomach whenever you’re on his mind, making him just as nervous as hopeful. And to be fair, it happens more and more often as of late, which is both alarming and exciting as he never thought he’d ever have the luxury to feel this way about someone else. Sure, he knows love, he loves his brothers with all his heart even if he isn’t very vocal about it, but this is different. New, scary, exciting different, an effervescent and persevering tingling blinding all his senses.

Crosshair is beside him in less than a second, rifle in hand, silent, and they share a nod before lowering the ramp and rushing out into the freezing dusk.

When he picks up on your muffled voice, he seems to ignore everything as he breaks into a sprint towards you, hoping to reach you in time before you’re in danger. He almost misses the way Crosshair’s heartbeat picks up, the usually stoic man reeking with genuine worry as he looks through the scope of his rifle.

He can deal with this later, Hunter promises himself as he pushes down this uncomfortable feeling. But then he sees you and Tech, and he seems to forget about anything and everything - you have that unfortunate and awfully distracting effect on him.

...

“But Hunter yelled at me for being reckless for a solid hour. And Crosshair said he didn’t care if I wanted to get myself killed, but I should do it in a way that didn’t interfere with the mission. Seriously, what an asshole.”

“Nevermind what they actually say,” Tech waves his hand in mild annoyance. “Hunter was worried sick. Crosshair almost went after you. And they’re both too pigheaded to admit the real reason why they’re so worked up.”

“Which is?”

“Obviously they both view you as a potential romantic partner.”

There’s a moment of pause as you two stare back at one another before you snort and chuckle, shaking your head and crossing your arms over your chest as a futile attempt at staying warm. “Tech, you need to work on your sense of humour.”

“And you need to work on your observational skills and situational awareness.”

“My observational skills are exceptional,” you defend yourself, a finger held up in the air defiantly. “And my situational awareness is-”

“Lacking, as you didn’t seem to notice the whitefang return. I suggest we head back to the safety of the Marauder.”

Sure enough, the wild cat is there lurking amongst the ice dunes, its eyes glowing in the dark as they reflect the light of the ship. It shouldn’t pose a threat to you as it is alone, and relatively small, but you still consider wrestling with it instead of returning to the ship and facing the rest of the squad - somehow, even that feels like a fight more fair than the ones that await you upon your return. So you hold its gaze as it curiously inspects you, wishing to swap bodies and run away and avoid any more conflict. Before you can even think of returning to the ship, you hear quiet footsteps catching up to you.

“I thought I heard something.”

“It’s probably more curious than anything.”

Hunter unsheaths his vibroblade and twirls it in his hand so theatrically it makes you roll your eyes. He glances at you, shoulders all tense, ready to pounce at the slightest sign of danger, and even though his face is obscured by his helmet, you can almost see the disappointed frown sitting on his features. “You want to test that theory?”

“My money would be on the whitefang winning.”

“Thanks for the vote of confidence, Tech.”

“Any time.”

“Relax.” The distorted rasp of your commlink is not enough to drown out the smugness of the sniper. The stand-off ends when a single well-placed shot right before the big cat sends it sprinting away into the darkness. You all turn to find Crosshair standing by the ship, his rifle still aimed at the retreating form of the whitefang.

“Well, there goes my opportunity to finally have an interesting patrol,” you mutter to yourself as you all make it back to the Marauder.

“Do all of your patrols end in you staring down carnivores?” Crosshair snorts, clearly unamused.

“Only the good ones,” you fire back, deciding not to wait for any of them as you head inside. Crosshair is hot on your heels, another string of mockery sitting on the tip of his tongue, because fuck, you’re stubborn, but he’s not going to cave in and tell you how it makes him feel to see you in danger. He can’t, however, put up with being away from you either.

Hunter lingers a little outside. He has to set himself straight, to contain all the things he wants to say you that have nothing to do with scolding you about Bracca, to kill all the feelings that suddenly demand to be felt so desperately. He clenches and unclenches his fists by his side, pretending to survey the surroundings of the Marauder. Tech moves in the periphery of his vision, but instead of following you and Crosshair, he steps closer to Hunter.

“I believe the threat’s been averted.”

“Yeah. Good job on setting up those alarms, Tech.”

“No problem. Is there anything else you need?”

“No. You should head back inside. The last thing I want is for you to keel over with hypothermia.”

“That’s not how hypothermia works,” Tech mutters, his voice trailing off, eyes uncertain behind his goggles. He suddenly places a gentle hand on Hunter’s shoulder, making the sergeant glance at him.

“Hunter, I’m only asking this because I care about you all, but... how long do you think this can go on before one of you gets hurt?”

Tech’s words echo in his mind long after he’s rejoined the squad on the ship. And Hunter just stands outside in the snowfall, watching the last rays of light disappear on the horizon, wondering which one of you he’ll have to hurt when the push comes to shove.

#dottiechan writes #hunter x reader x crosshair #hunter x reader #crosshair x reader #the bad batch #the bad batch x you #the bad batch x reader #tbb x reader #tbb x you #crosshair #tbb hunter #tbb fanfiction #star wars #tbb tech x reader #tech x reader

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ktheist · 4 years ago

Text

(why) we got married | m

synopsis. they say the 7th year of your marriage is always an uphill battle - but with the existence of your prenup coming to light thanks to taehyung’s lawyer slash family friend’s slip of tongue - first it reached your and his families, and then your family’s close friends and then your family’s close friends’ friends until - almost everyone is speculating on the grounds of you and taehyung’s marriage being anything but love.

you’re not sure if you’re even going to make past the second year mark in your marriage. but is the reason you got married really as important as why you choose to stay or leave?

muses. chairman!taehyung x stewardess!reader

alternative title. as you are.

inspired by. the 1 by taylor swift

genre. arranged marriage au with a pinch of drama and angst

words. 12.5k

warnings. explicit content

verse. knj. ksj. myg. kth. pjm. jjk. jhs. story time.

in your defense, neither you nor taehyung made an elaborated plan to deceive both his family and yours with the marriage which yes, had been founded upon a contract. but that’s not the point - the point is, your father and brother never sat down with taehyung and had a man-to-man talk. and his mother never sniffed out your reason for marrying her son being his abundance of wealth. but when all comes to light, thanks to taehyung’s lawyer slash family friend who made a slip of tongue - your parents and his were the ones most vindictive about who’s digging whose gold.

and to be completely frank, you were one article away from calling up your mother and telling her that you seduced taehyung into marrying you - just so she’d stop baring her fangs at mrs. kim. these days the headlines keep blowing up your mother and mrs. kim’s completely-by-chance meeting at a five star restaurant that erupted into manic yelling and pointing fingers.

“what did you say, you-” the audio bleeps for a split second before your mother in law’s voice comes back on, “-it was your daughter that seduced my son!”

“you crazy-” the audio bleeps again, “-you better watch your mouth or i’ll-”

the remaining seconds of the video are filled with bleeps that make it hard to even understand what either woman was saying. a wave of regret floods your chest as you scroll down the words strewn out into a juicy, tea-spilling commentary on your and taehyung’s past - the writer seems to pick up the minor little details that, in hindsight, leaves a big fat question mark out in the open.

when exactly did ___ ___ and kim taehyung start dating?

the answer was never.

the two times you and taehyung were photographed together was at a cafe near your office and the other, near his penthouse wherein you were discussing the terms of the contracts by yourselves. the one near taehyung’s penthouse being the final stage where you both signed it on your ipads. to the naked eye, you probably looked like you were on a date and being young professionals, it was only a given that both of you had some sort of electronic on you at all times - even during dates.

everyone just assumed you were together and with the assumption of being together, comes the conclusion that you were deeply, madly in love. was it the way the picture caught you two looking at each other with smiles on your faces? was it it’s sister picture that stilled you in a frame where you’re looking at your ipad and taehyung looking at you with the same - possibly remaining - smile from the moment the first picture was taken? that, you will never know.

but so it goes, you started going to socials together because taehyung needed some cleansing from his... charm-filled past. he used to go to those with different partners each week, and the previous woman that went with him always ended up refusing to talk about it or boasting about her ‘relationship’ with him. that was of course, after yoo now-kim jeongyeon got married three years ago. he used to attend those socials with her for the most part.

but someway, somehow, his public record was clean of any drama.

you would know, you’ve seen the man in action with your very eyes. on your 7th social event together, son chaeyoung had marched up to you and him like a ticking time bomb, red-faced and flaring nostrils and all. you were about ready to stand your ground when taehyung softly touched your hand that was around his arm and asked if you minded if he left for some fresh air.

of course you didn’t - respectfully, you couldn’t care less what taehyung does as long as it didn’t bring a negative light to you and him and the dynasties you both carried over your shoulders. everyone had their eyes wide open and ears perked for what was to come when taehyung walked chaeyoung out to the hallway. but nothing happened, and you were left to mingle on your own until he returned, looking devilishly handsome as always and strutted up to you with an air of refined sureness.

chaeyoung didn’t come back with him but everything remained quiet - not even a dramatic “stay away from my man!” at any point of your contract. you never asked how he did it - you thought it involved money, but over time, you realized it was just kim taehyung and all the things that made those women attracted to him. and just like a flame, he’d burned the moths’ wings until they couldn’t flutter over to him anymore after your wedding.

“uh, miss, we’re here,” the driver calls, meeting your eyes through the rear-view mirror.

it takes you a few moments to close the cover of your ipad and shove it into your handbag before pulling out bills that’s worth more than your car ride, “thanks, keep the change.”

and with that, you hop out of the cab, ready to put on a facade of grace and confidence. the staff who knows you greets you with a range of emotions, some with unhinged admiration from day one, others with curiosity on what’s truly hidden beneath those darken ray bans - without a doubt, aware of the drama going on between their boss’ mother and their boss’ wife’s mother.

either way, you make sure to return each smile and greeting like you always do. red lips sewn across your face like an ever smiling doll.

it’s only once you’ve entered the elevator and luckily left to your own devices, do you let your shoulder sag, the smile downturned into a frown all the way until a ding echoes into the small compartment and a red ‘8′ flashes on top of the doors.

you don’t fail to fix the secretaries a smile, relief flooding over you at how their warm - or was it profession-required - greeting hasn’t changed even after the rumors spreading about your inevitable divorce - of course, purported by you and taehyung’s mothers.

“son, if you don’t divorce that woman right away, i-i,” and here you see for yourself, the woman who called you ‘my daughter’ with the most loving voice, stuttering into a fit of rage, “i don’t think i can face my friends anymore - that bitch jihye has been slandering our family saying you used her daughter to get hold of the company!”

mina is about to knock on the door and announce your arrival when you hold a hand up before placing an index finger to your lips. she doesn’t need to be told twice when she nods once and steps back to leave you eavesdropping on your mother in law and husband.

“that’s fair,” there isn’t even a stuttered beat in his response.

“what-”

“that’s part of the reason we got married,” he goes on, “and ___ needs some help setting up her brother with some connection so it works out - and mom, please refer to ___ and mrs. jeon by their names, ___ is still my wife and mrs. jeon is the woman who raised her.”

“y-you-” mrs. kim stutters out in disbelief just when you decide to make your presence known, hand on the door, “you ungrateful child, oh my- oh my-!” you walk into the sight of the woman falling backwards with mr. ji the kims’ lawyer stretching his arms out to catch her, shouting “madam!” while taehyung launching himself across the room, “mom!”

mrs. kim ends up hospitalized.

“it was a case of stress and overworking that should go away with a good few days’ break,” chairman kim who also opts to assume his seat as part of the hospital’s doctor and a family friend of taehyung’s, fixes you with a reassuring smile.

the stethoscope and white robe gives off a more professional vibe than the sophisticated air you see him wear at family dinners.

“that’s a relief - it’s nothing life-threatening,” the smile you return doesn’t seem to sit right with him as his eyebrows knit together and a cloud seem to loom over his face.

“it’s really not in my place but,” he pauses, probably weighing out the pros and cons of offending you with what he’s about to say - but he doesn’t need to worry too much because after today, you probably won’t be seeing each other at dinners any time soon, “me and jeongyeon,” he means his wife and taehyung’s childhood friend, “are here for you if you need to talk - i know mrs. kim can be a little unreasonable at times, but give her some time. don’t give up on her.”

you nod once, murmuring a hollow ‘thanks for that, seokjin’ before watching the man strut down the hallway, the sound of his footsteps accompanying his leave. only when you’re left with the sound of your breathing, do you finally allow chairman kim’s words to sink into the deepest depth of your heart.

it’s not an easy task to keep your heart still and unbothered by your own mother in law’s words. even now, you can still hear her embellishing her headache, back ache, joint pains and every sort of non-fatal pains she has enough to get taehyung to stay by her bedside - so he doesn’t go home. doesn’t go back to the place where you two have built for yourselves.

and yet you can’t help but agree that - “if you’d divorced her just like i told you, i wouldn’t have fallen so ill!” she sighs, just as you’re about to slide the door open.

all of a sudden, the image of the delicate woman swaying and tumbling towards the ground flashes at the back of your head and you instantly recoil, as if the door was made from fire.

the fear of worsening mrs. kim’s health at the sight of you has you backing away, choosing to wait at the seat in the hallway instead. seconds stretch into minutes and minutes into hours until you feel your body being shaken.

your eyes which you never noticed fluttered close - snap open only to gaze at the face of an angel - a concerned one at that judging from the way his eyebrows knit together. and then you’re hearing the smooth baritone of his voice. you almost pulled out your phone from your purse to ask if you could have it recorded so you could listen to it as a lullaby.

that is, until you realize the angel’s disheveled wavy hair and eyes that look like they’re well on their way to falling asleep standing.

“taehyung,” the name slips out of your mouth with a surprised gasp as you note the pristine pastel background of the vip section, body jolting to sit up from your previously slumping position.

“have you been waiting all this time?” he takes a seat next to you - and only then do you notice the unkempt mess that he is.

the first few buttons of his shirt is undone whilst it hangs over his shoulders, untucked, tie hanging loose over his chest as he drapes his blazer over his arm. the sight is almost alien, especially coming from someone who can’t even stand a crease in his shirt.

“what time is it?” you wonder, reaching for your phone while he checks the rolex on his wrist - which proves to be faster than rummaging through your bag.

“seven-thirty - you’ve been waiting here for more than five hours,” and just your luck, right as the words hit the air, your stomach decides to remind you of the meal you’re about to miss if you stay here any longer.

the heat rushing to your cheeks a second later is immeasurably hot, “o-oh, okay.”

clearing your throat, you ask, “so how was mother? seokjin already told me but i wanted to hear it from you that she’s okay.”

“you know how mom is - keeps saying her head hurts from the fall even though mr. ji managed to catch her halfway,” in any other circumstances, you and him would have found humor in how your mother in law’s overembellished diagnosis to gain attention from you and taehyung - but this time, it’s only one of you she wants that from.

it doesn’t stop you from chuckling though, “it sounds just like her - maybe i should make some ginseng chicken soup to help her get better... or beef seaweed, you know, her...”

swallowing the lump in your throat is a feat - and unfortunately, you’ve failed terribly as taehyung gather you his arms.

only then, do you realize you’re sobbing like a child, emotions running wild as everything comes crashing in like a storm - his mother, your family, the whole fucking tabloids that’s being written and ready to be posted in the next few hours and the fact that the marriage may have been a fraud, but the bonds you made along the way had been more than just business. mrs. kim was a mother to you as much as yours is to taehyung. there may have not been any love between you two but you cherish his family like he cherishes yours.

“i’m sorry - for causing a- a scene - for causing mother to f-faint-” you weep and weep.

in your crying fit, you barely notice the way his arms tighten just the tiniest bit as he sways you left to right gently, one hand on the back of your head caressing your hair as he whispers something along the lines of “it’s not your fault” and “we’ll figure it out together.”

and so for the nth time in your one year of marriage, you’re banding together to capture mrs. kim’s heart again. the first time you visited her with taehyung, she narrowed her eyes at you and demanded taehyung explain as to why he didn’t come alone through the very same eyes next second.

when the man pretended not to notice and even placed a hand on your lower back just as your steps faltered in a ‘i’m with you’ kind of way, she opted to stare out the window while you unpack the broth you made onto the table. the portion you poured into the bowl you brought was getting colder by the minute as you spoke to her, “mother, i made beef seaweed soup, it’s your favorite, isn’t it?”

the only indication that she was listening was the way her eyes scanned the bowl of broth in front of her and proceeded to keep them on the window until you had to leave.

and so goes your second and third visits being received with shoulders made of ice a kind of silence that never fails to make your stomach churn with a sort of nervousness you should have felt when you meet your future husband’s parents for the first time. but the first time you met mrs. kim, your chest was filled with nothing short confidence and woo her you did along with taehyung’s relatives and closed friends. at the time, you didn’t think what you were doing - fooling everyone into believing that you’re marrying each other for love - would come biting you in the ass.

if karma existed then this probably you getting what you deserved.

on your fouth visit, you’d come alone because taehyung had an urgent meeting to attend. mrs. kim spared you a once over just like a rabbit who voluntarily and follishly hopped into the lion’s den.

“mother,” you offer her a smile, “how are you feeling?”

when silence is the only response you get, you quickly rummage through the paper bag you’d brought with you, “have you eaten? i made chicken soup-”

“don’t bother,” her voice cuts through the air like a blade. eyes as piercing as spears, “sit down, i know taehyung has an urgent meeting - it’s the only way to get him off my back.”

you’re not quite sure what she means but you have an inkling that the reason her hostility has yet to reach its pique is because taehyung has been giving her subtle looks to ‘mom, be nice to my wife’.

with a nod and a smile that seems to be glued to your face, you ask, “how was the bibimbap yesterday?”

though she didn’t cut you off, her response doesn’t exactly shed hope to your efforts being paid off when she dismissively says, “i gave it to mr. ji.”

the immediate ‘oh’ that tumbles out of your mouth is purely reflexive even though you know she’s never touched the meals you packed for her. but having her admit it is a different kind of heartbreak.

“i see,” is all you can say as you feel tears prick your waterline, a lump in your throat.

“this,” she places a folder of documents she seems to have ready by her bedside into your hands and without any explanation, sends you off with, “if you have any conscience at all, you’d sign these papers and stay out of our lives. even though i never read the contract but i’m sure a smart woman such as yourself would’ve thought to include the alimony as well - you understand what i’m saying right?”

you tried to say something - anything but at that point, the look in her eye already paints a picture of you clinging onto taehyung’s wealth. and yet you still tried, “m-mother, i-...”

but no words come out and as though her point had been proven, she’d huffed out a sigh and tuned you out like she always did on your previous visits.

so you walked down the hallway with shades covering your tear stained eyes and a skip to your step that oh-so-badly wishes to break into an unceremonious run to a place where nobody knows you. where nobody looks at you with rounded eyes for the briefest moment that easily translates to mrs. kim ___, wife of kadore’s chairman who married her husband for money.

but all you can afford to do is keep your head up until you reached the bathroom door, check each stall one by one to make sure no one’s inside before you finally set down the document and your handbag on the sink. the first sob hits the air as soon as you see the woman in the reflection’s reddening eyes and smudged makeup.

it takes you several breath-holding, eyes-shutting and a couple more sobs breaking through the cracks of your walls before you can finally pat some powder onto the patch of skin under your eyes and on your cheeks where most of the damage was done. by the time you’re back in the hallway with shades darker than the night sky, you find your feet melting and becoming one with the floor at the sight of a man with jet black hair standing at the reception.

and almost as though sensing the heat of your gaze through your ray bans, the man turns around to reveal a pair of doe brown eyes and the smile you’re so used to seeing now missing in action and replaced with a straight line.

“jungkook...”

“how’d you know i’d be here?” you start once you’ve both placed an order for your drinks at the counter.

“how long are you going to keep doing this?” instead of answering your question with a real answer, jungkook heaves out a sigh, eyebrows knitting together in vexation as he fixes you with one of those ‘i’m not telling mom and dad but this is our problem now’ kind of look.

“how ever long it takes,” is all you say, reverting your gaze to the smooth surface of the table.

“are those the divorce papers?” you refuse to look at him but you know he’s burning holes inside the beige colored folder sitting underneath your handbag on the seat between you and him.

“i don’t know,” you shrug, shoulders squared as you meet his eyes through your shades, “i haven’t opened it yet.”

but jungkook being jungkook, he takes that as a bare affirmation, choosing to interrogate you on a different topic, “have you seen what people have been saying about you?"

“i don’t really care about what people say,” is all you have to offer.

“you haven’t,” he nods in conclusion, “they’re saying you can’t have enough of your husband’s money... they’re saying you’re coming here everyday to grovel over his mother’s feet to let you stay married - that’s how i know you’d be here. and judging from the looks of it, they’re not too far off.”

it takes you a good solid minute to stomach the new found information. you haven’t been checking social media because of those same exact malicious comments but that was just the beginning of a downward spiral of your reputation - you never thought your efforts and hard work of burning your fingers on hot stoves and redoing dishes to get a perfect one would be met with an assumption of groveling over mrs. kim’s feet all for your husband’s money.

“god, i need a smoke,” jungkook huffs, receiving a look from the waiter that’s setting your drinks down. only after she’s gone does he present you with another set of questions. “was he the one that paid off dad’s debts? all of them? even the loan sharks?”

“that...” you nod once, failing to keep your head high as you twirl the straw of your frappe around but don’t even take a sip, “and the money i said i had saved up and lent you to start your company,” you quickly add,“- but taehyung doesn’t care about that - he wouldn’t accept it even if you wanted to pay him back twice the amount.”

“then why are you...” it’s the way his voice breaks at the end that makes you look up only to see a man whose eyes are a little sunken and cheeks a little hollow - almost as if he hasn’t been sleeping nor eating well because of his foolish sister, “why are you letting that woman trample all over you like this? wouldn’t it be easier to just get a divorce-”

“that woman is my mother in law, jungkook. at least, practice the same level of respect you’ve been preaching about,” you speak over him - it’s funny how taehyung once stood up against the same woman you’re standing up for, for you.

when all that follows is silence, you go on. this time, in a much demurred tone, “and it’s not about letting myself get trampled over... if mom found out you lied about something and she’s acting like mother does because she’s hurt, would you just go on with your life like nothing happened?”

it takes a moment for him to register what you said before taking on a much less hostile tone though still just as firm, “___, this is your life... i don’t know what kind of ‘happy family’ delusion you’ve been living in but i’m willing to bet all my money that it’s not taehyung that gave you those papers to sign and made you cry in the bathroom stall for thirty minutes-” he throws you look, “yeah, i saw you go into the washroom after coming out of her room. i was gonna call you but you looked like you had to take a huge dump so i waited but we know that’s not the case now.”

silence lapses between you for the umpteenth time before you stubbornly announce, “i could’ve been taking a dump - you don’t know.”

the sight of jungkook’s jaw dropping and hitting the ground is laughable, if not for the fact that he’s shaking his head five seconds later. vexed. irritated, “this is getting ridiculous - we’re going home. now.”

and he doesn’t mean the penthouse that you and taehyung shares.

shooting up, his hand grasps your wrist and he would have dragged you all the way to the car if you hadn’t protested.

“jungkook, no - i’m not going anywhere,” pulling your hand back, you stand a good one head shorter in front of your brother which doesn’t do much for your cause.

“___, if not for you then do it for mom and dad - they’re getting too old to be worrying about their one and only daughter’s marriage prospect,” he tries to coax, knowing full well your heart would wither like a flower at the mention of your parents worrisome nature - especially when your business is out in the open no matter how hard you try to hide it, “and you haven’t been answering their calls either.”

“i know, i just-” before you can even finish your sentence, a flash of garnet and bridal pink catches your eyes.

“____... jungkook, i didn’t think you’d be in korea. how are you?” taehyung’s warm baritone is laced with confusion as he stares at your brother and then at you for a sort of explanation but before you can even open your mouth, jungkook’s already has his hand wrapped tightly around your wrist, “yeah, well someone’s gotta clean up the mess you started. ___’s coming back home with me - back to her real home.”

“i’m not - stop saying that and let me go,” you tug on your wrist only to wince at the pressure of his grasp, “jungkook, you’re hurting me!”

“hey, let my wife go,” taehyung takes a peaceful step forward, “we can talk ab-”

“oh no,” the laugh tumbling out of jungkook’s mouth drips with malice, “no, see, you lost your knight in shining armor privilege after you quite literally lied to our faces about how you’ll take care of my sister until ‘death do you apart’ when all it took was mommy dearest pretending to get sick while everyone labels my sister a gold-digging wh-”

you taking a step forward with a balled fist, is completely instinctive and you would say taehyung prancing towards the dark haired man with a fist that actually hits the mark, was also instinct-driven. except that he probably has better aim and his punches hurt more than yours ever would.

the first one, you admit was satisfying but when your brother ends up on the ground with your husband throwing blow after blow, you have no choice but to intervene.

“taehyung, stop!” the shriek that echoes against the walls almost burst your eardrums. you would have believed it to be mrs. kim if not for the fact that she’s nowhere in sight and you’re the one with your hands grasping onto your husband’s arms, trying to hold him back from sending blow after blow onto your brother’s half-conscious face.

“taehyung, don’t stop,” you frown, taking a seat next to him while swiping the ice bag off his lap before gently pressing it to his darkened jawline, “seokjin said to keep the ice on the bruise for at least an hour.”

“ahhh - ow - ow-!” the man whines, eyes screwed shut as his grits his teeth together but doesn’t recoil from your touch.

“maybe you should’ve thought twice about throwing a punch at a trained boxer,” you shake your head, lips curling into an inevitable smile.

after taehyung’s had a round of punches in, jungkook managed to flip them over so that he’s the one pinning the elder man down. the events that unfolded after that were the least bit pretty. the nurses and doctors attending nearby patients rushed to the two struggling men and then there’s you, shifting the shouting to your brother to “god damn it, jungkook! stop being a dick!”

it took five men - doctors and just-arrived guards alike - to pry your brother off your husband who still tried to get a punch in and was held back by seokjin who finally arrived at the scenes with half a mind to knock the both of them out as he calmly orders for jungkook to be dragged into one of those empty rooms akin to the one mrs. kim is staying at.

because taehyung was the one who started the fight, seokjin decided that an ice pack would do for the taller man whilst he treats jungkook and orders the other doctors to go back to their post.

picking up the mixture of garnet and bridal pink roses, he stares at their wilted petals for the longest moment, face painted with dejection. they must have been specifically ordered for mrs. kim-

“these are for you,” your train of thoughts halts in its track at taehyung’s words. his hand levitating midair as though unsure of whether to hand the bouquet to you or toss them away, “or were,” then he captures your gaze and you don’t think you can ever find your way out of the maze he’s able to hold you captive in with just his eyes, “you deserve fresh flowers specifically plucked from its stalk - you deserve a whole garden, actually-”

“taehyung,” your free hand covers his as if to say, “they’re lovely, thank you.” placing the ice pack down, you cup both hands around the flowers, bringing them to your nose, “and they smell wonderful - i love pink roses.”

“i know,” the tiniest smile peeks from his lips, “you told me that.”

“i did?” you blink, surprised.

“at our wedding reception, you got a little tipsy and started sobbing because the roses were blush pink and not bridal pink,” the sound of his chuckles drums in your ears like hymns just like it did a year ago.

back when you were decked in an elegant off shoulder white gown after changing out of your wedding dress. you’d stood in the sidelines while your families and friends danced to their hearts’ content to the sound of the music. white champagne in your hand, the background beginning to turn fuzzy and your thoughts began to get louder.

it didn’t help that the object of your frustrations was smack dab covering every inch of the vicinity from the gargantuan rose covered backdrop, to the tiny vases in every single table.

the sob hits the air like the first raindrop. you had to clasp your hand to your mouth as if you were about to cough to hide your mouth stretching into your crying mouth - you don’t know how to explain it but your lips tend to morph into an unshapely sight whenever you cry and covering it when you feel the waterworks coming has always been second nature. as for the tears - they were concealable because the lights were dim enough.

but then there was someone next to you - he just popped up out of nowhere really and because you were standing in the darkest corner, you couldn’t pick out any defining features besides his height but you didn’t have much time to ponder on that as his question fills your eardrums, “so, how does saying goodbye to the bachelorette life feels like?”

“it’s terrible,” you’d wept some more and he shifted on his feet slightly, as though noticing the tear in your voice but luckily for him, he didn’t even have to ask because you were spilling your innermost thoughts out loud, “they- they gave me blush pink and garnet roses- i want bridal pink and garnet roses.”

“oh,” distinctively rang in your ears among the sound of instruments and joyful laughter.

then comes another input, “i didn’t know they messed up your request,” and you didn’t know why he’d sounded like he was about to murder someone.

“yeah and,” you sniffle, “- and i didn’t wanna say anything because- because i don’t wanna be that bratty bride who picks on every little detail.”

that morning, you woke up to a box full of roses and they were the lightest shade of pink. taehyung was already awake and offered to ring up breakfast for the both of you after he’d bid you a good morning and a “something came in for you.”

the gifts were prearranged to be sent to the penthouse instead of your suite but then again, there were chocolates and champagne bottles that made past the hotel doors because of its edible nature - the roses too... their fleeting livelihood seemed like you’d enjoy them better in your hotel room than a week later after you’d come back from your honeymoon.

the card didn’t even leave initials but had ‘roses for a rose’ playfully written in cursive black ink. your heart blooms a garden but your head is what makes you search for your newly wed husband, only to see him looking at you with a tender smile - one that you thought manifested because of your own involuntary smile when you’d read the note.

“i don’t think these are for us,” you could feel the frown setting into your features, causing taehyung’s own brows to furrow.

“i think these are for... me,” and so you told a tale of a woman with ambitions rather than stars in her eyes, who felt a compulsion to at least tell the truth to her husband and the stranger whom she met at her wedding. of course, omitting the teary eyed part and the blush and bridal pink roses part.

taehyung had easily chuckled while the staff set down plates of delicacies on the round meant-for-two-people-on-a-honeymoon table, saying, “he has fine taste - they’re from halls & tara,” after the staff left.

it didn’t occur to you that the h&t initials on the top right corner of the card stood for the most well known florist in seoul until he’d pointed it out, which could only mean he’d been suspicious enough to take longer than a glance at the flowers.

“do you mind if i keep them? at least, until they’re not as fresh anymore.” you quickly added the last part.

“you can keep them in a vase and have them live longer... why? are they not the shade of pink you wanted?” he blinked once, hand halting midair as he was about to take a mouthful of pancakes.

“well- no, they’re perfect actually - i love them,” you almost stutter in your haste to explain while trying to be casual about how devastated you would be if- “it’s just that... i really didn’t know him or who he was- but he obviously knew me because it’s hard not to know the lady of the day- i’m not breaching any terms-”

it’s the way the trickles of laughter filling the otherwise silent room that got you to clamp your mouth shut. the way kim taehyung looked so ethereal and majestic in the pristine black and white setting of the room.

“i don’t mind,” he’d clarified a moment later, eyes twinkling with the remnants of laughter, “i understand why he’d want to desperately send you these if only to see you smile softly like you did - you look beautiful when you smile, by the way.”

the compliment had caught you off guard and your heart might or might not have somersaulted but if there’s anything seven years of becoming a stewardess has taught you, it was to always prepare an adequate response to every situation - and at that time, kim taehyung was infamous for his quick wits and reputation with the ladies. of course, words sweet as honey would come easy for him.

“thank you,” and so were the words of gratitude on your part as you schooled a smile and dug into the pancakes your husband made.

but sitting on the black leather couch, holding onto a similar colored bouquet, you can’t help but blurt out, “that was you? i was bawling my eyes out because of some mismanagement to my husband who didn’t even recognize?” something between a disbelieving scoff and an irony-induced laugh escapes your mouth, “why didn’t you tell me?”

taehyung’s shoulder line shakes as he shrugs, hand going up to scratch the back of his head as he drops his gaze, as if searching for the answer only to look back up into your eyes with a, “i didn’t think you’d be as happy if you knew it was me,” his gaze falters, like a bud of fear blooming behind his irises,

“why wouldn’t i be?” you blink once, not quite understanding where he’s coming from.

that is, until a small smile slips onto his lips and it’s heartbreaking to witness and even more devastating to know you’re in no place to let your arms gather him into a hug like you wish. to kiss his forehead until his worries disappear.

he twines his fingers with yours, thumbing the diamond on your fourth finger, “i’m sorry that i took away your choice to marry for love - that’s a bit corny isn’t it?” he scrunches his nose and you can’t help but giggle, “it’s not just some short term contract since we both agreed divorce is never in the equation,” neither of you believe in tainting the sanctity of marriage - no matter what cause it was founded upon - with separation, “but god, the things you’re going through right now - i promise i’ll make things right.”

taehyung’s eyes tend to appear in different shades along with his emotions - though you know it’s most probably the lighting. dark brown is for when he’s scrutinizing the hollow smiles and empty compliments he gets at functions. but sometimes you find yourself catching hazel.

like right now, as they capture yours and look at you as if you’re the only one he sees.

“taehyung...” you thought you knew what you wanted to say when you said his name but as you get lost in the midnight dessert of his eyes, you’re not sure if you can even muster so much as a squeak without falling apart.

and that’s when a knock reverberates into the air like thunder, forcing you to jolt away from the man until no part of you is touching any part of him.

“hey,” a somber voice greets as jungkook leans against the doorframe, “so they fixed me up and the chairman wants me gone in,” he looks down at his wrist, “two minutes and fifty-three seconds.”

blinking away the remnants of the emotions away, you stand up, giving the man a once over. his button up is marred with a trickle of deep red a few inches over his chest, hair matted and face sporting different stages of bruising. the bleeding’s stopped for the most part.

“you’ve definitely seen better days,” you announce, walking around the couch to get to where the man is rolling his eyes at.

“sorry for calling you the w-word,” that’s definitely wasn’t what you were expecting which prompts the belated, almost suspicion induced,“...okay.”

“i did that because i needed to confirm something,” he goes on, eyes flitting over your shoulder where you know your husband is staring right back, burning holes inside your brother’s head before he looks back at you, taking a full 180 in attiude, “and don’t worry about mom and dad - i’ll take care of them.”

it takes you a moment to digest his proclamation, all the whilst hyperly aware of the hand that makes its way on your lower back as a familiar dior scent fills your senses, “so you’re not gonna drag me home?” as though disbelieving the words that came out of your mouth, you add, “that’s all it takes? a few punches to the face?”

the twitch of his eyebrow doesn’t go unnoticed by you. nor does the deep breath he forces himself to take at the blatant insult and insinuation of your future boxing lessons to which he warns, “don’t get any crazy ideas,” then he turns to the man next to you, “i let you hit me - let’s get that out of the way first.”

and before either you or taehyung manage to get a word in, jungkook hand comes flying to your forehead, a loud sound of skin smacking against skin echoing throughout the room as you tumble backwards with an audible “ow- hey!”, barely noticing the much larger hand that’s covering yours. inspecting the patch of skin where jungkook just flicked.

without even an apology for the uncalled for assault, he nods at something over your head, probably taehyung, “you take care of my sister, you hear me? cause there won’t be a second time.”

and then he’s gone like the wind - you would have tracked down that wind and give him a taste of his own medicine like you did when you were children. you’d jump on his back and attempt to bite a chunk of his head if your nannies didn’t pull you apart - but right now, you couldn’t escape taehyung’s hand on your waist even if you wanted to.

“let me see,” he instructs, gently coaxing your hand to unclasp the patch of skin on your forehead so he could softly blow on it.

you stay like that, standing at the doorway with your bodies too close and taehyung refusing to unhand you until your cheeks are replaced with a different kind of heat than the anger you felt for your god forsaken brother.

“god he’s an ass - you should’ve messed up his face more,” you huff, and you don’t know why - maybe it’s the way you stomp your foot, maybe it’s the way your cheeks tend to puff when you’re feeling vindictive or maybe it’s a mystery locked in taehyung’s head that you’ll never know but his chuckles sound like hymns in your ears.

and you thought that was the end of the electrified sensation on your skin where his touch lingers until you feel a pair of the softest lips on your forehead, right where the flick was supposed to throb. a grinning taehyung looking back at you as if asking, “my nanny used to do this to me when i bump my knee against a furniture...” a flash of worry blooms in his eyes for the briefest moment before he voices his concerns, “hope the magic still works.

the sight is heartwarming. endearing even. and you can’t help smile, cheeks hot, “it does - it doesn’t hurt anymore.”

and just as you thought he’s about to release you from the torment of having your heart skip multiple beats at a time and step back, he presses another peck on your forehead. a smile gracing his features, “another one for good measure.”

it’s a surprise your legs are still holding you up with how jelly-like they’ve become.

“th-thank you.”

mrs. kim discharged herself a week after the fight but not without standing in front of the hospital with her frilly fur coat and gucci handbag while she looks at the camera and consequently straight into the screen, “i have yet received a publicly apology for what jeon jungkook did to mine by the jeons. my taehyung couldn’t even kill a fly, let alone start a fist fight-” she shivers uncontrollably as though overcome with chills, “such a barbaric, uncivilized act can only come from-”

“you’re watching that?” a smooth baritone fills the room as a figure struts in beige slacks and oversized creme sweater, “again?”

he sits on the edge the backrest of the couch, looking down at you with an expression that makes your stomach churn. with butterflies or guilt for breaking your promise to stop checking out these articles, you don’t know.

“sorry,” you mumble, placing the ipad down a few inches from your feet as you bring your legs up against your chest, arms wrapped tightly around them, “worrying about how the press twists mother’s words comes from the plentiful of time i have on my hands after being sacked, i guess.”

it’s been a week since you’ve received your new schedule. to which you received a call right after to head to the headquarters in the heart of seoul only to be told that-

“___, you gotta understand, this whole fiasco going on with your family... it’s giving the airline a bad rep,” mr. bang leaned back against his recliner, his eyes hiding behind the beam of his glasses, “people are leaving bad reviews on the website that has absolutely nothing to do with our services but has everything to do with you and your husband.”

he meant the growing dissatisfaction upon the revelation of the artificiality of you and taehyung’s marriage.

nobody’s caught jungkook and taehyung in a video but there’d been witnesses and ‘sources’ affirming the two getting into a fistfight at the hospital. and so another record has been made in your long list of family drama.

“sir, please,” you could feel your eyebrows joining together from the sheer frustration and reality anchoring into the pit of your stomach, “i’ve been working for korean air -for seven years now- check my reconds,” hope blooms in your chest as you suggest the idea to your superior, “i’ve never been late, never had a customer complain about me, never made any mistakes prior to this-”

“it doesn’t matter what you did before this, ___,” he cut you off, voice heavy with emphasis.

but you weren’t backing out that easy, “please, it’s not fair to lay me off for something i have zero control in.”

at your wording, the man physically flinched, almost as though struck by a spear before he shook his head, denying your claims.

“you’re not fired,” he corrected, “you’re on paid leave... until everything calms down.”

it took everything in you not to let the frown slip onto your face. first it’s paid leave and then it a one month notice before they officially sack you - you’ve seen how this played out one too many times.

so you smiled, “with all due respect, mr. bang, how long is ‘until everything calms down’?”

the man’s shoulder line jolted as he shrugged, lower lip jutted out in a nonchalant nature, “that depends on how you choose to solve it, ___... i assume you are working on a solution, yes?”

it was a trick question. if you answered the affirmative, it’d be admitting what mrs. kim and almost everyone have been demanding - a divorce. if you answered no, then you’re as good as jobless.

“my husband and i are working on it,” was all you say.

when taehyung found out later that night - he was livid. he was a phone call away from calling up mr. ji to sue the airline for discrimination. it took you stealing his phone away and running around the penthouse until you made him promise that he’d listen to you first.

he did, and you’d wanted to wait it out and see because, “there isn’t any damage to build our ground on anyway because i’m not fired yet.”

“well, dinner’s ready ” taehyung’s soft as silk voice tears you apart from your memroies, hand levitating midair until you take it, hoisting yourself up.

taehyung pushes himself off the couch, walking on the other side with your hand in his. it’s comical but endearing all at once and you giggle at how neither of you are willing to let the other go even though you’ll have to once you reach the four-people dining table.

“thank you,” you say as you lower yourself on the seat while he pushes the chair in for you.

home cooked meals have become a norm for the both of you ever since that day taehyung punched jungkook in the face. at first, you insisted that you should be the one cooking since he was injured but he stayed with you in the kitchen and you talked about your day and reminisced about your childhood and how you similarly had nannies that forbade you from coming into the kitchen.

then there was the peck on the top of your forehead he started doing a few days ago after you were sat and before he went around the table to get to his seat that’s across from you.

“did you go shopping today?” he asks in between cutting up the steak which he stole a whole plate from you into mini slices.

“yeah, with hwasa,” you nod - the woman had been all too delighted to see you after mismatched schedules and ghostly texts because of life and work getting in the way.

“the friend from high school?” taehyung surprises you yet again as he places your plate back in front of you, this time with the pieces all cut into edible bites. you’ve never mentioned hwasa to him - but it’s not a lie that she’s your closest friend from high school who got accepted into the same training programme as you at the beginning of your career.

“thank you-” you shoot him a smile before picking up the fork and knife, “and yeah, that’s her. we haven’t seen each other for months so we kind of went a little crazy with the dresses.”

he doesn’t look up when he speaks his next words which is why you have a trouble digesting them as you involuntarily blurt out a, “sorry- what?”

“the dresses you bought,” he reiterates, an amused smile on his lips - possibly because of your almost-choked state, “- can i see them?”

“oh,” clear your throat once, sipping down the red wine before chuckling nervously, “hwasa bought dresses - didn’t.”

taehyung hums, head tilting to the side as though trying to capture your avoidant gaze, “then put on whatever you bought that i saw lying on your bed - the door was open when i passed your room.”

at that moment, to say your heart quite literally crash against the floor, would be an understatement. it takes you a minute to gather yourself, another to force out a laugh as you attempt to brush the thought of taehyung seeing the black and red laces from savage x fenty hwasa adamantly insited you get after a story time on why you decided to get married to how something has definitely shifted between you and taehyung.

but no amount of gushing and squealing about made up scenarios brewing from hwasa’s little head could prepare you for what’s happening right at this moment.

“oh those?” a chuckle, “those are aren’t even worth showing.”

and just as you thought he’ll let the matter go like he would when you dismissively mention something that he inquired about, taehyung takes a full 180, eyes clouded with a sort of emotion you don’t dare delve into, “that’s for me to decide,” he takes a sip of the wine, pushing his chair back as he stands up, “i’m done,” with that, he places his plate down where geom, your mixed breen papillion and silky terrier shouts out an appreciative woof at the pleasant surprise.

patting the canine briefly, he turns to you, those clouded eyes seeping into your soul, “put them on - i’ll be waiting in my room.”

his footsteps echo against the walls as he ascends the stairs and disappears into the hallway where his room lies across from yours. it is a whole solid minute later, once you hear the door of his room click shut, that you make a beeline for the couch where your phone lies lonely.

dialing up the only person you know you can hold accountable for, you quite literally scream at the ‘hell-’ with a “hwasa, he wants me to put the lingerie on and show him!”

while your voice drips with dread, the other woman, choosing to be willfully oblivious, screams into your ears, “oh my god - oh my god. then what are you doing calling me?! go put them on!”

and that’s how you end up holding in a breath while deliberately repeating hwasa’s not so helpful pep talk of ‘you’re the hottest’ and ‘kim taehyung will be wrapped around your fingers by the end of the night!’

“but it’s been over a year - i’m not sure if i even know how to moan!” you’d protested while pull the strap of the garter around your thigh.

that was half an hour ago.

now, you’re debating on whether to knock like you would have before you started cuddling into the other while watching tv. but before that, you’d never did anything together unless it was family dinners and gatherings.

so you opt for pushing down the handle. the sharp ‘click’ being the only announcement of your entrance. taehyung’s walls are a deep shade of maroon almost black with the lights on its lowest setting. the sound of music playing in the background barely registers in your mind as you focus your attention to the figure that’s pushing himself up from his laying down position.

you resist the temptation to run and hide under the comfort your covers - an opposed response compared to your confident stride, placing one foot after the other until you stand a good two feet away from the bed and taehyung.

“what do you think?” the smile brandished over your face is nothing like your racing heart whlist you do a little twirl- but then again, you’ve always been such an actress.

“if the world were made of diamonds, i’d choose the rose before me... because you’re the most beautiful thing i’ve ever laid eyes on,” you wonder how he doesn’t even blink as those words pour out of his mouth, hand finding its way in the dip of your waist. staring. admiring.

“always the charmer,” you want to curse yourself for the unoriginal come back yet taehyung doesn’t seem to notice as he lets you push him to the bed whilst his eyes undress what little piece of clothing you have on as you crawl on top of him.

your toes curl at the sound of taehyung’s excruciatingly slow exhalation - almost as though he intends for it to caress your ears and seep into your pores before settling into the pit of your core.

the sharp charm of dior fills your senses as you place kisses on his neck, tucking his flesh between your teeth ever so gently, not expecting the delectable surprise that slips out of his mouth.

who would have thought kim taehyung was a moaner?

the giggle that trickles out of your mouth is blamelessly involuntary but catches his attention nonetheless, “what?”

“oh, nothing,” you nibble on his earlobe before whispering into his ears, “just thinking of how cute you’ll look moaning for me.”

and you’ve easily add to the long list of things you won’t forgive yourself in the morning. yet you still caress his growing size through his pants, giggling when the delicious sound hits the air for the second time.

“take it out,” he whimpers after one too many teases, “please.”

“only because you said please,” the way his chin tilts to follow your lips after you pecked them doesn’t go unnoticed by you but you clasp your hand against his chest, pinning him down with a shake of your head “uh-uh, you get up when i tell you to.”

the excruciating ‘fuck’ that leaves his lips is what truly lights up the flame in the pit of your stomach. you watch as his hand goes up to run through his hair in a sexually frustrated nature but doesn’t attempt to push himself up after that.

it only takes a few pumps for the clear fluid of precum to trickle over your hand, letting you smear all over his hardened dick and causing it to glisten underneath the luminescence of the room.

sparks shoot through your core and strike your heart into an erratic rhythm when you lower yourself over him, holding the slit of the black lace undergarment apart until he’s hitting every delicious inch inside of you.

you’ve barely even started to move when you break out into a cry, falling into his arms like a puppet whose strings got cut off. the arms around you are gentle as they hold you against him until you’ve come down from your high.

by the time you push yourself up, your knees are still trembling yet you nod when he cups your cheeks and forces you to look into those concern filled eyes, “are you good?”

“i’m fine,” the sniffle is probably the last thing you need to convince him, “i lost myself for a moment.”

this time, it’s his turn to chuckle, lips curling into a smirk, “it’s completely understandable to admit that you couldn’t hold out for more than a minute because i stretched you out so good.”

you want to protest - want to gain back the control you lost when he hit that sweet spot not even, yes, as he says, a minute into taking him in. but one single thrust right against that same exact spot and you’re whimpering in utter submission and devotion.

“that’s what i thought,” that damned smirk is the last thing you see before you succumb to his every wishes and command until you find yourself with a strong arm banded over your stomach, another arm reaching for a pillow and puffing it up before you feel yourself being gently lowered face flushed into it - the smallest gesture of tenderness that you didn’t expect to witness when you decided to tease him in the beginning.

the yelp when taehyung’s hands slip under the strap of the garter, doesn’t even manage to form fully when a moan replaces it as he yanks the garter and consequently, your ass against him, forcing you to swallow his entire length in one stroke.

“god, you’re so big,” if you were a little sober and a whole lot more conscious, you would have added that into the list of things you said that you would cringe at in the morning.

but you’re already one orgasm down in the foreseeable long list of orgasms that kim taehyung promises you as he sinks into you, moaning out your name like a holy mantra.

“i know you love it,” he agrees oh so innocently for someone who’s about to thrust into you like a godless being.

five strokes in and you’re cursing and screaming out in pleasure, hands gripping onto the duvet for dear life as you feel you convulse into a state of toe-curling euphoria. the way taehyung stops moving and trails down butterfly kisses down your back until the tensed muscles in your lower abdomen simmers down into pleasured twitches, doesn’t go by you.

“you can move now,” another sniffle, but this one has completely and irrevocably succumbed to your rawest desires.

it’s the soft chuckle and the one last peck on your left shoulder blade that has your heart stuttering. ungodly opposite to the way he moves his hips as he thrusts into you without so much as a warning - your last two orgasms were just preambles. ones out of the many that night that has you writhing and moaning in pleasure. some of which were incited by sides of you, you didn’t know existed.

the last thing you recall is taehyung gathering you in his arms like he couldn’t bear to be apart from you even in his sleep now that he’s had a taste. it’s endearing and daunting all at once. because for the first time since your marriage, you’re afraid of losing him.

a few days after that, you’re tying away on your macbook when taehyung comes home looking less like the man you knew. his hair, disheveled from having run his hand through them more than his hair gel allows. his eyes, carrying a sort of weight that latches onto him like parasites - or maybe that’s just the papparazzo that you noticed have been following you around. their numbers have decreased considerably after the rumor of taehyung hiring a team of lawyers which was no rumor at all.

it was the morning after you woke up with tingly legs barely able to function like it should and muscles sore but a sort of fullness in your chest when you noticed the man whose arms are wraped around you like a protective cocoon as he faintly snored away.

then came the muted sound of your phone from the other side of the hallway where your room door beckons you into its domain. it wasn’t as obnoxiously loud since it was at least twenty feet away and you would have ignored it and gone back to bed if not for the short interval signaling the person calling had finally reached the mailbox or hung up on their own. that was, before they hit call for the second time.

slipping out of taehyung’s arms, you trudged to your room with half a mind to give whoever this caller is a piece of your mind - god’s sake, the flashy red digits on your alarm clock stares at you at 5:23 in the morning.

“this better be good, hwasa or i swear-” before you can even finish the woman is already screaming into your ear like she’s being chased by an axe murderer.

“oh my god, oh my god - have you seen the news?!” except no woman chased by a murderer would sound this exhilarated, she went on before you could even get a “no one in their right mind would be checking the news at ass crack-” out.

“oh shoot, it’s still 5 something in korea, isn’t it?” she gasped - if you weren’t on paid leave, you’d be in hong kong, probably sharing rooms and getting tipsy in some club there, “but anyway, kadore’s chairman is suing insight, pullbbang and other websites for slander!” she shrieked.

"what?” you could feel the muscles on your face pulling into a contorted confusion but

after hanging up and telling hwasa you were going to look into the matter some more, you’d come up with multiple articles stating a similar fact as your overly enthusiastic best friend did. still in denial, you’d confronted your husband about it- he was still sleeping soundly when you strutted in and shook him up to which he confessed, eyes droopy and face puffy. the sight was so foreign to you because you were used to seeing him fresh and suited up but you’d found yourself making a little space in your heart for barely-just-woken-up-taehyung to reside in.

first came anger - you didn’t ask for him to do this, “what would everyone think if i went to you crying about a little bit of criticism for something i did do?” then came confusion because what exactly did you do that was so horrendously heineous to warrant these websites to write such malicious statements about you?

taehyung had seen every flash of emotions that pooled in your eyes and tugged on your fingers - you weren’t sure if he’d meant it but it successfully pulled you from drowning in your own thoughts, “i told you i’d make things right - these people won’t be able to say another word about you unless it’s the truth- that you’re a hardworking, amazing woman who deserves everything she has and yes,” he fixed you the most tender, sleepy smile “that includes the money i make - what’s the point of working if i can’t even provide my wife with the best?”

taehyung tosses the beige tuxedo onto the handrest of the couch adjacent to where you’re sitting with one leg up in nothing but a loose fitted sweater that hangs off your left shoulder. the half empty wine glass lies untouched on the coffee table since you’d put it down.

with a thump, he sinks himself into the leather material of the couch, hands cupping his face, as though if he rubs it hard enough, the deadset frown would go away.

before you know it, you’re padding over to the couch he’s on, hands finding their ways onto his shoulders, massaging the noticeable tension in his muscles until a grateful sigh slips out of his mouth, hand guiding your own to his lips where he presses a kiss on your knuckles.

only when you go around to take the spot next to him, hand smoothing out his hair, do you finally say, “is it the board again?”

mina has been keeping you updated on the turbulence that was caused by your fraudulent marriage being exposed. the chairman seat became taehyung by default when he got married as per his father’s will. but the board members have been vocal about abrogating his rights to succeeding kadore.

“there’s talk about votes demoting me to director,” he’s never sound so fragile - in taehyung’s long list of fluctuating interest from women and men to art and sculptures and to yatches and sports cars, kadore is probably the only thing he’s ever taken seriously.

you would know - seeing him decked in armani with soft wavy hair contrasting his strong features, weren’t your only reason for accepting his proposal of marriage. it had more to do with the way he spoke about the company. in a dimly lit room just like now, with a wine glass in his hand and the cityscape underneath that gave an illusion of stilled fireflies scattered all across the city, taehyung had spoken of his unforgivable regrets. the deals he’d let pass by. the merges he’d settled with instead of aiming higher. the brands he didn’t reach out to.

those regrets birthed fears and those fears were what made him even entertain the notion of a beneficial marriage.

or as the board likes to call it, an atrociously wickedly schemed marriage.

“they won’t have a ground to depose you to a director’s position if they can’t provide a solid reason,” you say and he blinks, clueless, hopeless.

it’s almost as if you’re facing a whole different man.

“what do you mean?”

“i’m talking about us doing what we do best,” you fix him a smile - one that probably needs a little convincing and grounding but a smile nonetheless, “we show them that the kims aren’t to be messed with,” you pause, letting the silence settle into brimming suspense before finally saying, “it’s been awhile since we’ve made a public appearance together, hasn’t it? how does lunch sound like?”

and so goes your multiple appearances in the most top notch restaurant together. the lack of chauffeur wasn’t intentional but helpful nonetheless to prove that the chairman was hopeless and irrevocably mad for his wife that he’d drive all the way to wherever she was to pick her up and then drive them to the designated restaurant instead of the convenience of meeting at said restaurant from wherever you both were prior to that.

then there was the hand holding, hip grabbing and not going a minute without smiling and giggling about what the other said. to outsiders, it would have looked as if things hadn’t been all that different - except you’d finally came out of your 1 billion doller cave after the whole ‘fiasco’ with your families. but it was the little hand kisses and forehead pecks in between taehyung making mini runs to get to your side to open your car door.

and the ‘how was your day’s and which are followed by a ‘you’re still deadset on working, huh?’s each time you told him about your in-the-work resume since you’re ‘at the risk of getting a notice of resignation any time soon’.

“what if you started your own business? i could buy a whole building in nonhyeon-dong that you could make as your headquarters?” he offers in between twirling the pasta around his fork after you insisted that- “my job is the only thing that i’ve got going on for me to prove that i’m not a gold-digger that everyone thinks i am.”

“i was thinking more like travelling from place to place like...” you shoot him a ‘you know’ smile before adding, “a cabin crew.”

“one of korean air’s biggest shareholders are letting go of her stock because her color pencil business isn’t doing so well these days,” he nods, deeply contemplative, “they’re gonna be sacking a few employees if they don’t get buyers by the next two months,” he surmises with a concluding nod to which you end up laughing and almost choking on your food.

picking up the water on your right, you quickly gulp it down before clarifying as to why you found his statement so funny that you’d risk your esophagus in the process, “no, tae,” that nickname is also one of the little things that just happens - you don’t miss the tuck in the corners of his lips when it slips off your tongue, “it’s sweet of you to want to buy me a share of the airline i’m working for but that’s the thing, it’s your money,” you reach out for his hand, smiling when he meets yours halfway.

a warm pressure engulfs your hand as he squeezes briefly, “and i told you, what’s mine is yours.”

“likewise,” you fix him a grateful smile, “but i like flying. i like being a cabin crew - on top of holding onto my job to prove people wrong, of course.”

the longest pause hovers over you like a grey clouds with taehyung’s beautiful but contemplating eyes holding you captive. as though trying to take you out part by part, trying to figure you out.

“then, what would you like me to do?” the question catches you off guard, like being hit by a wild baseball even though you’re walking right next to a baseball field, “you’ve always been so good at taking care of yourself - when you broke down in front of me... at the hospital... i didn’t know what to do-” his lips quiver just the slightest bit, almost as though holding back invisible tears, “tell me what to do. because it feels like everything i do isn’t the slightest bit helpful. ”

all of a sudden, the sands of time seem to have stopped, levitating midair within the dip of the hourglass. it’s daunting but heartbreaking at the same time - the sight of raw fear and uncertainty that’s pooling within taehyung’d eyes like unmoving river - you never knew your attempts to hold up your values reflects as a declaration of nonessential to taehyung’s own attempts to reach out to you.

“i don’t need you - to fight my battles, to solve my problems for me - though i’m immensely grateful that you did,” you say after what feels like an eternity, “but i want you so... stay as you are, supporting me like you’re doing now.”

“i don’t know if that counts as support - i’m not doing anything,” he counters, eyes downcasted until you reach out your other hand to cover his that’s already holding your left hand.

“you are - you never invalidated my feelings of wanting to work, you encouraged me to do bigger things and that means you believe in me - maybe i will take up that offer in the future but right now, i want to keep doing what i always have been,” you fix him a smile, “and i want to do it with you by my side.”

the tiniest of smile that slips onto his face tells you that his heart is still in a state of unrest. unconvinced. but he’s trying as he nods, “if that’s what you want,” and you thought that’s the end of it. until the foreshadowing “but,” that comes a second later, “i’m not gonna stop worrying and trying to fix things - we’re married, your problems are my problems too.”

the chuckle escapes your mouth signifies the good natured jest of your next words as you summon your hands back, already missing the warmth of his much larger ones around you, “well we weren’t exactly on that term until just recently.”

a shadow casts itself over taehyung’s handsome face as he picks up his fork, “that’s something i’ll regret for the rest of my life - not getting to know you beyond the contract sooner.”

“everyone makes mistakes,” you shrug before taking a peek at his expression as you mention a certain free spirited woman, “besides, you were too caught up with jeongyeon on our first year of marriage.”

she had been one of the few people who’d managed to bring out a side of taehyung you never knew existed.

boyish. bratty. someone who actually bicker and whines about the littlest things and everything that was on the opposite spectrum the crisp, suit-wearing, slicked back hair, charming man you married. sometimes, when you go out to dinners or the little moments when you find yourselves alone while attending functions, you see glimpses of that playful, boyish side of him. the human side of him.

over time, you realize that that’s also part of what makes taehyung... well, taehyung. it’s just only recently that you start seeing more than glimpses of these sides behind closed doors.

the way his eyes widen is enough for you to know that you’ve hit the nail right on its head. if the incomprehensible stuttering isn’t, “that... i was... we didn’t-”

“i know,” you fix him a jesting smile, “you may be a certified charmer for the most part but you’re not a homewrecker, tae.”

lunch goes on with you talking about how your father and brother are thrilled to have you and taehyung over for your monthly dinner. to which the man was partly confused and partly shivered in his seat at the thought of sitting down at a table with two of your favorite men in the world no doubt shooting him daggers while you’re not watching - or pretend that you don’t notice.

“i can’t avoid father forever,” he laments, finally giving into his fate as you walk out the restaurant, “and i have a lot of owning up to do to your family.”

“as do i,” you hum in agreement once before murmuring a ‘thank you’ as he holds the car door open after tipping the valet.

it’s only five minutes into the ride, once the car rolls to a stop at a red light does he turn to you, “you know, you don’t have to... with mom, reconciliation is a two way thing and she...” you notice the way his grip tightens around the wheel, eyes darkening as he breathes in, grounding himself “- she even made you file for divorce.”

the papers she’d given you that day still lied in your drawer, hidden away from taehyung’s pyromaniac hands. you’d caught him almost setting them on fire when you he found it lying on the counter after he’d returned home. all because spent a good chunk of the afternoon staring at it before leaving it to take a hot bath, not realizing taehyung would be home any time soon. ever since then, he hadn’t been on speaking terms with mrs. kim. turned down offers for dinners and luncheons, as he had directly told her in front of you through a phone call, “...not until you apologize to ___ first.”

“tae, mother was hurt by our lies and i understand why, i can’t promise i’ll be as accepting if i found out the daughter-in-law i cherished so much didn’t marry my son for love like i thought they did,” you lightly pat his hand that’s on the gear but instead he captures your fingers between his and guide them to his lips as he traps you within those beautiful eyes.

“you’re too kind for your own good, you know that?” there they are again, hazel underneath the light. but clouded with a sort of emotion you can’t pinpoint.

but before you can even muster a word, his eyes are already focused on the road as the car propels itself forward. but he doesn’t let go of your hand. he keeps it twined with his between yours and the gear. almost as if he didn’t want to be apart from you if he could help it. and neither could did you as you rub tiny motions into the back of his hand.

in your defense, you’ve stolen a precious gem from her that no money or gold could ever replace. and no matter how much you cherish the bond that formed after hours spent on shopping, tea times and mother-daughter (in-law) vacations, you’re not kind enough to unwrap him from your little fingers.

a smile curls on your lips as you guide taehyung’s hand to yours, placing a kiss on his knuckles and watching as his own lips tuck at the corners.

you’ll just have to make it up to mother some other way.

note. if you enjoy this then please leave a comment either below or in my inbox! and check out the other members’ installments to the series filed under ‘verse’ on top!

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ladyeliot · 4 years ago

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Are you happy? [1/2]

Part 2

Pairing: Ex!Chris Evans x Fem!Reader

Summary: After almost two years without seeing each other, fate brings you together again, each of you has your own reason for the reunion, which brings your feelings to the surface again.

Warnings: Angst. Ex-friends / Ex-partner.

Word count: 3411

A/N: Sorry for my spelling and grammatical mistakes, English is not my native language, I am learning.

The decision wandered through your mind trying to be made as you sat inside the car with a head full of doubts. You couldn't help but lean back in the driver's seat closing your eyes, letting out a slight sigh between your lips. Guilt was present in you and you couldn't explain why, for in your thoughts was present that you had committed, or were about to commit, any act bordering on recklessness. Two months had passed since your parting, and though you tried to forget him you could not get him out of your thoughts, yet, though you were no longer together as such, your reasoning informed you that you were not acting rightly, and that fact might have been caused by the feelings your heart still harboured for him.

Finally, after a few minutes of meditation, you opened your eyelids and let the brightness of that morning in the small Massachusetts town into your eyes, but quickly covered your face with the palms of your hands, letting a sound of frustration escape from within you. You couldn't stay there any longer, hidden inside the car, so a mere decisive nod of the head emphasised your acceptance of the proposition Chris had made to you a few weeks ago, and with such firmness you placed his right hand on the knob and opened the car door. The coldness of the weather fell upon you, sending a shiver from the back of his neck to the tips of your toes, but the quietness of the street relaxed you, for what you feared most at that moment was that the press would report your presence there with your companion, causing a halo of fabricated stories to reach the ears of the world. Thus, and obviating any negative thoughts, you put on your sunglasses before you started your way to the charming pastry café, looking again at your watch and fearing for your tardiness, for the decision had taken you thirty minutes, Chris would have disappeared from there.

As you approached the shop you realised that it had hardly changed since the last time you came, the glass panes on the front of the shop revealed a variety of sweet and savoury pastries, accompanied by a tantalising raspberry scent. Small tulips decorated the front door, where a wooden sign informed you that the shop was open and at your disposal. You couldn't help but take a deep breath of air before you decided to push open the glass door, before you were grateful for the warmth that opened up in contrast to the cold of Massachusetts.

You removed the cap from your head and smiled immediately as a young woman approached you with a friendly expression on her face, inviting you to step inside and take a seat. Gently you thanked her for her kindness as you unbuttoned each button of your coat. It took you only a few seconds to scan the place with your eyes, evidently to look for him, and you found him, at your table, in a small corner of the room, offering you one of his smiles in the distance as he fiddled restlessly with his hands. You tried with all your might to avoid him, but on your lips a nervous smile showed its presence, which meant that in the blink of an eye you could see Chris widen his. You were only a few feet away from each other, but the distance seemed infinite to both of you as you began to walk towards him.

As if he were a gentleman of old, Chris rose from his seat awaiting your arrival, keeping his blue eyes fixed on yours with barely a blink of an eye. You had imagined that situation in your head every night of every day since Chris had informed you by a message on your answering machine that he was going to visit his hometown, or rather your hometown. At first you didn't respond to the suggestion to meet again, because things were not easy between you and you didn't know how to act in that situation, but you decided to accept his proposal.

As you were shortening the distance, your heart accelerated, making you feel as if you were in a slowed down movie scene, as if you were moving in slow motion, until you reached him and his arm rested firmly on your back, making the distance come to nothing.

As the distance shortened, your heart sped up, making you feel as if you were in a slowed down movie scene, as if you were moving in slow motion, until you reached him and his arm rested firmly on your back, making the distance come to nothing. It was two, no, a year and eight months, that passed without knowing anything about each other since things were cut short, it wouldn't really hurt so much to say it if it hadn't started with a childhood friendship, but things happen. The fear you felt at that moment had disappeared the moment Chris had taken the initiative to offer you that hug that was lasting longer than socially established, but that was too comforting to bring you feelings you thought were lost.

"I'm sorry I'm late," you mumbled without so much as an inch from him.

"You've come, that's all that matters," he said, stepping back to look at your face.

The fact that they came within inches of each other's faces caused your gazes to withdraw and you each took your seats, facing each other at the little round table at which you had spent so many moments.

"It's great to be back here," he said, rolling up the sleeves of his shirt and looking around.

"Yes," you mimicked his gesture of looking around. "I guess there's no better place to try raspberry pie."

"Agreed absolutely," after saying those words silence flooded around you, leaving you with a blank stare at each other and an imposed smile from the moment you saw each other.

The few people around you hardly knew everything that was going on between you, all the hidden feelings, what you wanted to say but couldn't, what you had experienced, and above all, what you had left to experience, although you didn't know that either. That level of intimacy that on thousands of occasions had been an inconvenience between the two of you was now present and you were grateful for it, because no matter how much the media had published about you, the truth only had the two of you.

"Do you know what you're having?" the young waitress who had welcomed you broke the moment with her presence.

"The usual?" Chris looked at you to which you nodded curiously. "A green tea with honey, a cappuccino and a piece of raspberry tart with two teaspoons, please."

"All right," again the young woman disappeared bringing you the previous comfort.

"You still remember," you said smiling crossing your arms on the table creating a distance between you unconsciously.

"Of course, it was many Sundays," he finished his words with a sigh, which again generated a silence that he decided to cut. "By the way, I was glad to hear that you were finally engaged to Garret," his tone became nervous, "I wanted to have called you but..."

"No, it's my fault, I wanted to have told you but..." your voice trailed off as you shook your face in denial.

"I know," Chris smiled, "I guess neither of us knew how to do it."

"Exactly," you whispered looking into his eyes.

As if things weren't complicated enough, yes, you were engaged. Maybe it had all happened too fast, you didn't feel it at the time, but now it was as if a pile of doubts was coming down on you like a bucket of cold water. When Chris said the word fiancée and Garret in the same sentence, while being happy to hear it, it was as if an arrow pierced your heart. You had no doubts at the time, you opened your heart to Garret, after Chris had completely shattered it, you accepted his proposal with all your love, but you were terrified of how quickly Chris was making you doubt in those moments.

As if things weren't complicated enough, yes, you were engaged. Maybe it had all happened too fast, you didn't feel it at the time, but now it was as if a pile of doubts was coming down on you like a bucket of cold water. When Chris said the word fiancée and Garret in the same sentence, while being happy to hear it, it was as if an arrow pierced your heart. You had no doubts at the time, you opened your heart to Garret, after Chris had completely shattered it, you accepted his proposal with all your love, but you were terrified at how quickly Chris was making you hesitate in those moments.

"So how long are you staying in town?" you asked that question just to change the subject, to break away from the thoughts that were eating away at you.

"I leave on Tuesday next week, so... five days," he explained, fixing his gaze behind you, as the waitress brought a tray with your breakfast. "Thank you."

"Thank you very much," you pleaded offering her a smile as she set your cup of tea down in front of you before leaving again.

"And when are you leaving for Washington?" Chris arched an eyebrow as he stared at his coffee and the way he swirled the spoon around, but seeing that you were silent, as you were taken by surprise that he knew you were leaving for Washington, he looked up at you. "My sister told me."

"I see your sister has caught you up on everything," you said with a little laugh, spooning up a piece of raspberry pie. "In two months, Garret is taking care of all the paperwork from there, he's also found a house in the suburbs, away from all the hustle and bustle of the city. He's really going to a lot of trouble."

"It's normal," he shrugged, "it's your future."

"I guess," you whispered taking the cup in your hands.

Weird, that was the word that defined the situation at the moment, you knew Chris well enough and he evidently knew you well enough to know that there was an end to your meeting and neither of you were putting it on the table. He wanted to meet you again for a reason and you had gone to meet him again for a reason, but neither of you were putting it on the table.

"By the way, I went to the cinema to see the latest Avengers movie," you said, resting your face in the palm of your hand. "I really loved it."

"Oh come on, you don't have to do that anymore," he said between smiles, "I know you hate them."

"That's not true!" you exclaimed with a chuckle, looking offended at his comment. "You know I really enjoy them, I'm sorry if you're not my favourite superhero."

"Ah, so I'm not your favourite superhero, you didn't think that the night that... well you know," he hid a laugh and ducked his face, you arched your eyebrows opening your mouth in surprise at his words. "I'm sorry, that comment was out of line."

"I can see you're still too smug Evans," you shook your face with a smirk and looked away.

Those were the moments that made you miss Chris every day, your childhood friend, your mischief ally, your first love, your prom date, your first kiss, your ex-partner. Too many memories to let it all slip away because of a turning point, when you both realised that your relationship wasn't working as a couple over the years. It was a hard moment for both of you to come to terms with reality, a reality that seemed totally unrealistic, but the paths you had taken were too far apart to be compatible. Each of you had your own dreams, your own goals in life, which were far removed from each other, so before either of you gave up on your dreams, you chose to give up on your relationship.

"How was it?" asked Chris after putting a piece of cake in his mouth.

"What do you mean?"

"How did Garret ask you to marry him?" he asked crossing his arms over the table, approaching you. "Well, if you're uncomfortable or..."

"No. It was over dinner, it was actually quite conventional," you began to explain distractedly. "We both took a week's holiday from the office, so we decided to take a trip to Montreal, you know to unwind, so he set up a romantic dinner in the hotel suite and asked me to marry him."

"And you accepted," concluded Chris nodding taking the cup of coffee and taking a sip.

"I accepted," you repeated looking at the tea.

"I suppose you don't have to put on a show when you're going to ask someone to marry you," he began, looking at your face. "I guess when it's clear to you, it's the person you love and want to spend the rest of their life with, all the frills don't matter, it's the words that matter."

"I suppose," you murmured looking away from his gaze and instinctively focusing it on your engagement ring.

Chris really was good at making you feel a lump in your throat with his every word. How was it possible that you were so confused at the time, you had considered the consequences that breakfast might have on you, but really when you left the house that morning you had no idea what it was going to be like to face Chris.

"Are you happy?" that question came out of Chris's mouth like a bullet and threw you completely off balance.

"How?" you rebutted with a frown, hoping your ears hadn't heard his words correctly.

"I want to know if you're happy," his tone was calm, he spoke each word slowly staring at you, making you lose yourself in his eyes.

"I..." you mumbled drawing air into your lungs, making time to find an answer to offer him.

How could he even think of asking you that question? Everyone knows it's an unanswerable question, no one can offer you a concise and firm answer to that question, because if you say 'yes', you were probably lying and if you say 'no' you're probably lying too, it's an unanswerable question, and you hated it every time you heard it from someone. You have moments of happiness in life, as well as moments of bitterness, but no one is 100% happy, or at least that's what you thought.

"I'm not sure what you want me to answer," you said, avoiding addressing an answer.

"I want to know if he makes you happy," he finally said with a shrug. "That's easy."

"Yes," you said with barely a thought, nodding a little confused. "Yes, he makes me happy."

"Okay," he whispered nodding, his countenance serious. "Then that's it."

That's it? That's all I wanted to know, that's why I was meeting you in that coffee shop? You wanted to know if Garret made you happy? You assumed that was his reason, why he wanted to have this reunion with you, but it was all really confusing. It got even more confusing when Chris put down his coffee cup, got up from his seat, put on his scarf and jacket and went to pay, leaving you completely bewildered and desolate at the round table. Your eyes followed your every step, but you barely had time to react as Chris was already on his way out the door when you stood up from your chair. You grabbed your belongings without a sign of alteration on your face, and with a slow but steady step you headed for the exit, thanking the kind waitress again for her service.

As you left the bright morning had turned grey, there was no shade and those clouds looked like a storm. Chris had gone up the street, and had turned down a charming alley full of typical houses, you didn't want to shout his name, so you quickened your pace to catch up with him and stand beside him.

"Can you explain to me what the hell just happened in there? Because I really didn't understand anything," you asked harshly, seeking his gaze, but he was staring straight ahead under that Red Sox cap that hid much of his face.

"I guess there's nothing to explain," his steps didn't stop, "I really wanted to see you, to hear from you, to know if you're happy, and you are, that's all that mattered to me."

You began to understand where the turning point at breakfast had come from, at what point there had been that change of attitude in Chris, it was when you had said yes, Garret made you happy, which was funny because how could Chris expect you to say he didn't make you happy. Still you needed an answer to what would have happened if you had answered no.

"Wait," you addressed with a frown, but he didn't stop, so you ran to stand right in front of him, causing him to be unable to move forward and look you in the face. That fact seemed to annoy him. "What if instead of telling you it made me happy, I had told you it didn't make me happy?"

You thought in that instant that you had managed to stop him, to get his attention, but after a couple of seconds he made an attempt to dodge you and continue walking down that lonely alley.

"Chris!" you exclaimed, grabbing his arm to stop him, causing him to turn suddenly towards you. "Can you answer my question?"

"Do you really want to know?" he inquired in a raised tone, his brow furrowed and his hands shoved inside his coat pockets.

"I want to," you said, unlike him, with a quieter volume, causing Chris's features to relax as he listened to you.

"Alright, being that you'll regret it after you hear it," Chris nodded, looking to the side and then back into your eyes. "I probably would have acted without thinking and kissed you."

You regretted it, instantly after hearing him say those words out loud. As if in a flashback, it came to your mind what that moment would have been like, if Chris had closed the distance between you in that charming café to kiss you after two years. You regretted doing that too, but Chris broke your thoughts.

"Because yes, if you're wondering I'm still in love with you, and yes, I still blame myself for everything that happened, it all went to shit," he continued with an infuriated tone each time the words passed, gesturing freely with his hands. " Fuck, when I heard you'd accepted Garret's hand I didn't know what to do, whether to phone you, get on a fucking plane and show up here, but what was I going to do?" he swiped his hand over his mouth and looked around nervously. "I think this whole thing was a mistake, I shouldn't have called you. I really don't have the slightest idea what I was waiting for."

Body lock took over your limbs, Chris nervously running his hand over his face, blaming himself for everything he had just said, blurting out insult after insult, not resting his gaze on you. Of all the possible situations that could be presented to you, that one wasn't on your list, so you hadn't thought of it, but right now you had to deal with Chris, with his feelings and with your own, which were now creating an immense panic. To add to the intensity, the raindrops were beginning to make their presence felt, watering down a morning that seemed to be quite watery.

Tomorrow the final part.

Taglist Open (DM)

MAIN MASTERLIST

#chris evans x reader #chirs evans x you #chris evans x y/n #chris evans imagine #chris evans imagines #chris evans #chris evans one shot #chris evans fanfic #chis evans fan fiction #chris evans drabble #chris evans prompt #chris evans angst #avengers x reader #steve rogers x reader #marvel fanfic #chris evans smut #smut #angst #fluff

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loserholland · 4 years ago

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𝐋𝐨𝐯𝐞 𝐋𝐚𝐧𝐠𝐮𝐚𝐠𝐞 | 𝐁.𝐁

Pairing ➺ Modern!Bucky Barnes x Fem!Reader

Warning ➺ Nothing but fluff

Word Count ➺ 2.9k

Summary ➺ In which you discover Bucky’s love language.

A/N ➺ Based off a dream I had a couple nights ago, I’ve been trying to shift for the past ten months but I’m pretty sure that dream could’ve been me lucid dreaming? This is the full version- the previous version I posted was only half because I was afraid it wouldn’t do so well- BUT here we are! Enjoy! Comments and feedback appreciated <3

✿ 𝓟𝓮𝓻𝓶𝓪𝓷𝓮𝓷𝓽 𝓣𝓪𝓰𝓵𝓲𝓼𝓽 ✿ - @loveyathreethousand @killerqueen-gunpowdergelatine @spideyyypeter @lou-la-lou@babebenhardy @rivervixenbaby @acklesholland @zabdisamor @keepingupwiththehollands @sweet666pea @sspider-parker @jackiehollanderr @caro0512 @thewinchesterchronicles @cporter003 @kisses-holland @spideysnugget @cryszus @sunflowerharrystyles @peterunderoos @ohbabycal @laucontrerasv @spider-mendes @jessybellsworld @quaksonhehe

☞ Masterlist ☜

There are five different types of love languages:

Words of affirmation; Encourage, affirm, appreciate, empathize. Listen Actively.

Physical Touch; Non-verbal- use body language and touch to express love.

Receiving Gifts; Thoughtfulness, make your spouse a priority, speak purposefully.

Quality time; Uninterrupted and focused conversations. One-on-one time is critical.

Acts of Service; Use action phrases like “I’ll help..”. They want to know you’re with them, partnered with them.

Bucky’s love language was physical touch. Any chance he got, he’d have his hands on you, tracing random patterns on your arm, his face nuzzled into your neck, tracing the lines on your palm. Dragging you back to bed when you’re about to get your day started peppering kisses all over your face in protest.

Some people may see it as clingy but (Y/N) never saw it as that, she loved when Bucky showered her with love- he didn’t need to say anything when he’d come into her room from a long day at work, his eyes focused on his feet.

The sound of their bedroom door slowly creaking open caught her attention, she knew who it was. Slowly moved over to the other side of the bed, pulling back the duvet covers allowing the man to join her. Once he slipped under the covers he engulfed her into a hug, burying his face in her neck.

She ran her hand up and down his back soothingly the other tangled in his damp hair, he began to relax his shoulders more as she continued to massage his scalp.

They would lay like this till tell fell asleep, the next morning however Bucky wouldn’t want to let her go claiming she was too warm and huggable.

“Bucky honey? Ready to go?”

They were currently in California for her younger brother’s wedding. The last time they were in California it was for Christmas and, that’s when you had first introduced your family to Bucky.

“Do I look okay?” Bucky asked for what felt like the hundredth time, smoothing his hands over his pants.

(Y/N) cupped his cheeks pressing a chaste kiss to his lips, “You look handsome, as always Bucky. They’re gonna love you as much as I love you.” the door to your childhood home swung open revealing your mother. Bucky’s right hand immediately intwined with your left giving his a small squeeze.

“(Y/N/N)! Come in, come in! And oh! You must be James, she talks nonstop about you!”

“Mom!” (Y/N) whispered causing Bucky to chuckle loudly lifting his left hand for her mother to shake, “All good things I hope.” her mother laughed in return, “Oh none of that let me give you a hug!” You stifled back a laugh at your mother’s sudden action,

Bucky leaned against the doorframe of the bathroom raising his brows slightly, “Doll, I’ve been ready. You’re the one that’s still in the bathroom.” She lifted her gaze to the mirror a playful smirk painting her lips.

“Well, I wanted to get the day started but you pulled me back to bed.” Bucky pushed himself off the doorframe walking over to wrap his arms around her waist, resting his chin on her shoulder.

“Fine fine, we’re both at fault.” Bucky murmured kissing the base of your neck all the way up to your cheek, he spun you around moving his hands from your waist the the counter top caging you in.

He dipped his head down capturing your cherry stained lips it was easy to get lost in the moment when he had you like this, “Bucky.” he hummed against your lips moving his hands from the counter to cup her cheeks.

(Y/N) placed her hands onto his chest pushing him back slightly “If you keep kissing me-” he hummed again not budging from his spot “we won’t leave this bathroom.” she pulled away admiring his red stained lips.

“C’mon loverboy, I want to beat to the crowd.”

Loverboy

A nickname Sam one of Bucky’s friends from college had given him.

Sam watched as Bucky walked into the kitchen heading straight for the medicine cabinet taking out some painkillers and a warm compress. They were suppose to be heading out for a boys night but your cramps were killing you and even if you assured Bucky you’d be fine he didn’t budge.

He snickered to himself knowing exactly who they were for, he had told Steve many times that you had him wrapped around your finger and that anytime you enter the room he turned into a lovesick puppy.

“What do you have to say Sam?”

His back was still faced away watching as the keurig filled the mug up with hot water, he reached for the tea packets besides the k-pods tearing the packet open.

“Oh loverboy, you’re down bad there’s a word that Peter uses- pimp? No that’s not right, something imp-”

Bucky snorted as he placed the teabag into the mug, “An imp is a mischievous person.” Sam snapped his fingers, “Simp! That’s what they’re using now days.” Bucky glared tossing the teabag that sat in the mug long enough, “I don’t care what vocabulary Peter uses. Now if you’ll excuse me, I’m going to tend to loving girlfriend. See yourself out!”

Sam chuckled loudly before shouting, “Whatever you say loverboy!”

He entered back into your shared bedroom placing all the items onto the night stand, slipping under the covers so he can hold you in his arms. He sat up right against the headboard allowing (Y/N) to rest against his chest, “Bucky, you can go if you want I’ll be fine.” you mumbled a slight pang of guilt filled your chest.

“Doll, I’d rather be here with you. I see them at work everyday- now let me take care of you okay?”

“I love you.”

Bucky pressed a kiss to her forehead, “I love you too.”

The two wandered the women’s section dresses catching (Y/N) eyes as she tugged her boyfriend to follow, he didn’t mind shopping with her all too much because he’d encourage her to get literally everything she laid eyes on. She pushed off buying a dress for the wedding and of course waited till the day before.

“What about this one?”

She picked up the beautiful blue midi dress, perfect for the spring weather. She turned around lifting the dress next to Bucky’s cheeks, he raised his brow in confusion “Hm, I’m getting this one- reminds me of your beautiful eyes.” tugging his hands once again she looked for one more dress, Bucky’s cheeks were tinted a bright red.

(Y/N) loved seeing him flustered and left well speechless, “Doll you’re such a tease sometimes.” she stopped in her tracks turning around on her standing on her toes to press a kiss to his cheek.

“And you love it.”

She was rushing yet again to get ready due to Bucky not wanting her to leave mumbling five more minutes which turned into thirty. When they were in the shower Bucky wouldn’t let her leave, holding the two under the running water ignoring her protest before the sound of her mother knocking on the bathroom door caused them to get out.

“(Y/N)! Where’s James! Oh there he is-” Bucky sat on the bathroom counter top giving her mother a warm smile “(Y/N/N) hurry it up! We need to beat traffic, we need to be there first!”

Bucky chuckled, “It’s also like this in New York, we’re always the last to arrive any gathering.” she glared at her boyfriend playfully setting her curler down to slap his thigh.

“Five minutes!” her mother turned on her heels exiting her daughter’s old bedroom, she stuck her tongue out at her boyfriend “You were suppose to disagree.” he grabbed your forearm tugging you between his legs, “Not when it’s true.” she stuck her tongue out again trying to move away from his legs. Placing both hands on her cheeks he squished it lightly pressing a kiss to the tip of her nose.

“I’m sorry, I’m sorry.” he moved his hands to her waist capturing her lips, she placed her hand on his chest pushing back slightly to break the kiss. She waved her pointer finger from side to side, “Hm, now we both know you’re the reason why we’re always late.” He smirked lightly hoping on the counter slapping her ass with his metal arm playfully, watching as her mouth fell into an “O”.

“C’mon (Y/N/N) we don’t wanna be late.”

On their way to the ceremony (Y/N) and Bucky took the backseat while her mother and father took the front, every so often her mother would look into the review mirror noticing the two were fast asleep. Bucky had reclined the seat a little to allow her to rest her head on his chest, their entwined hands resting on his lap.

She smiled remembering the first time (Y/N) had called and told her about Bucky at first everything she said she thought it was too good to be true. Yet when she finally met him last Christmas, she saw how good he was to her and how much he loved her.

Bucky felt too nervous not wanting to leave your side even though your family welcomed him with open arms- many open arms to the point where you had to pull him away from your aunt Irene.

“I-Okay Aunt Irene, what about me where’s my hug?” you freed Bucky from the hug, awkwardly hugging your aunt who instead wanted to hug your boyfriend “Oh he’s a keeper (Y/N/N), look at that hunk of meat.” you chuckled awkwardly pulling away from the hug to stand next to your “hunk of meat” again.

Bucky slowly began to mingle, talking to your cousins, uncles, your brother and father, and even attempted to play with your niece and nephew. But from time to time he’d go back to your side holding your hand or wrapping his arms around your waist.

That’s when she saw it, usually most of (Y/N)’s cousins husbands/boyfriends would rather talk with the other men about sports and wouldn’t check up on their wives/girlfriends yet- here was Bucky coming back to your side any chance he got.

“Hey sleepyhead, we’re here.”

Your hand reached up to rub your eyes, Bucky caught it before you could ruin your mascara “Your makeup.” he mumbled causing you to blink a few times adjusting to the bright light shining through the window. Bucky opened the car door stepping out first then helping you out allowing you to stretch your muscles.

He lifted his hand to your hair fixing the pieces that looked out of place smoothing it down slightly, it’s the little things like this that made her think you’re for sure gonna marry this man.

“As beautiful as ever.”

(Y/N) smiled tugging at his tie to meet her halfway placing a sweet kiss on his lips, “Thank you, and I must say you look quite handsome as always. I should get you to wear more suits.” intwining your left hand with his right you two walked onto the beach seating next to your parents in the front row on the grooms side.

“Uncle Bucky!”

The four year old jumped onto Bucky’s lap, “Hey there’s the little princess!” (Y/N) smiled leaning her head onto Bucky’s shoulder, “No hi for your favorite aunt?” the four year old grinned from ear to ear “Hi Aunty (Y/N/N), do you like my dress?” her tiny fingers tugged at the hem of the dress almost the same colors as yours.

“Oh it’s lovely Arya, I must say we have the same taste.” she watched her niece nod moving her attention to play with Bucky, the two whispering and giggling. “He’s gonna be a great dad someday.” your mother whispered loud enough only for you two to hear.

The first time Arya had met Bucky she didn’t want to let you leave with him claiming that Bucky was now her boyfriend, it always made (Y/N) smile anytime Bucky interacted with her niece and nephew.

Your older brother and his family had recently visited you two last month, an Arya had already planned on spending the day with her Uncle Bucky saying that they had a date but (Y/N) was welcome to join the two. You always knew that Bucky would be a great dad, but that day confirmed you were willing to have a whole football team.

“Yeah, he’s gonna be the best.”

Arya hopped off his lap moving to go meet her mother so she could toss the flowers down the aisle.

Entwining her left hand with his right she gave it a little squeeze, Bucky lifted their hands kissing the back of her hand “Something wrong?” (Y/N) shook her head placing their hands onto her lap.

“No-” she brushed her thumb against the back of his hand “I love you.” Bucky leaned forward kissing his beautiful girlfriend.

“I love you too.”

Moments like this.

After the ceremony came the reception, your feet were killing you in these heels Natasha and Wanda basically pressured you into purchasing. You were eager to sit after standing for many photos, you sighed in relief wanting to undo the straps and go barefoot for the rest of the night.

Bucky too his seat next to you moving his chair a few inches away from you, “Why are you so f-” he lifted both your legs placing your feet onto his lap unstrapping the buckle of your heels before slipping it off.

Slumping against the door she let out a loud sigh, dropping her bag and kicking her heels off. It was another long day at work an all she wanted was to be in the arms of her boyfriend. “Hey doll! In the kitchen!” she padded over to the kitchen smiling at the sight in front of her, she sat on one of their bar stools.

“Hm- I can get use to this.”

Bucky turned around pointing his index finger at the apron, “Kiss the cook.” you snickered you had gotten that for him as a joke at first after he had complained about the oil splashing and staining his shirts.

“My feet are in too much pain to walk.”

He walked over seating in the free seat next to you grabbing your legs to place onto his thighs, you leaned forward kissing his plump pink lips the taste of red wine lingered on his lips causing you to hum. A low groan left your lips the moment he began to massage your feet.

“Oh I love you so much I hope you know that.” he gave her a cheeky smile both his hands massaging your slightly swollen ankles, no more heels for a long while.

Before dinner was served Bucky excused himself to the bathroom, that was nearly fifteen minutes ago. Excusing herself she wandered the halls searching for her boyfriend, “Aunty (Y/N/N)! Can you help me? I think I dropped Shanna!” Shanna was the name of her plush doll Bucky had given her before she had gone back to California, your brother would send pictures of Arya with the doll. She brought it everywhere.

The sun was beginning to set which would make it quite easy to find her doll, the four year old dragged her aunt towards the exit ushering her to pick up the pace.

“Arya- bub can we slow down? Let me remo-”

“I got it!” she waved the plush in the air, dusting the sand off before giving it a big hug. (Y/N) sighed, “That was easier than I thought.” Arya skipped towards her aunt stopping right in front of her “Last one back is a rotten egg.” turning on her heels she nearly ran into Bucky.

“Hi.”

The golden sun kissed his skin, he truly looked like a god standing there. (Y/N) walked towards him wrapping her arms around his neck, “I’ve been looking for you.” A cool sea breeze kissed their skin, she fluttered her eyes shut enjoying the moment “We need to visit more often.” she looked up at Bucky resting her chin against his chest. They stood there for a few more minutes savoring the moment, the only sound of the waves washing ashore echoing through the quiet beach.

“C’mon lets head in.”

She pulled away from Bucky tilting her head to the side noticing her family was standing at the entrance, “Oh- they must be wai-” her eyes widened as she watched her boyfriend get down on knee.

“(Y/N) (Y/L/N), it has been an amazing four years knowing you. You’re not only my girlfriend but my best friend. I can’t believe it took me nearly three years to ask you out, three years! I owe thanks to Sam everyday for introducing me to you, don’t let him know I said that-”

(Y/N) giggled ignoring the tears staining her cheeks, she could care less if her makeup was running.

“I’ve been planning this for the last four months, I want to thank your parents for giving me their blessing to do this. Four months into our relationship, I knew I was going to ask you to marry me one day and well now here we are. Also- your brother doesn’t mind that we’re kinda stealing his spotlight.”

“There better be an open bar at the wedding!” your brother shouted lifting his glass of champagne.

“I want to spend the rest of my life with you creating beautiful unforgettable memories. With that being said-”

Arya rushed over holding out a red velvet box, “Will you-” before he could even open the box she tackled him into a hug. “Yes! A million times left!” she cupped his cheeks kissing her fiancé. He pulled away briefly opening the box to reveal a beautiful emerald cut ring, slipping it onto her ring finger.

“I love you.”

She kissed him once more pressing her forehead against his.

“I love you too.”

#james buchanan barnes #james buchanan bucky barnes #bucky barnes #bucky barnes imagine #bucky barnes one shot #bucky barnes oneshot #bucky barnes fanfiction #bucky barnes x female reader #bucky barnes x fem!reader #bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes fluff #bucky barnes smut

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midnightsconspiracy · 4 years ago

Text

Blame

Blame - @midnightsconspiracy

Summary: Having a baby without telling their father was hard, what was harder was when that baby’s father was Hank Voight

Warnings: None

Word Count: 1900

Requested: Yes!!

‘Hank and the reader had a small fling 2 years ago Hank called it off but what happens when he finds out that the reader son isn’t just hers but his as well.’

A/N: It doesn't really follow the timeline of the requests 2 years, but it's along those lines anyway :):)

Masterlist

Yours and Hank's relationship had seemed perfect at first, well to you anyway. Nothing seemed as though it was out of the ordinary until the man had unexpectedly broken it off.

It had originally started when you had first met him on a case. Originally, you had attended a police scene after his unit had called for a paramedic crew, the sergeant in question having hit the offender a little too hard. Your partner was assigned to look at the perpetrator's wounds, him having come out of that scuffle worst for wear, you on the other hand were sent to look at Voight's beat-up hand. Admittedly, you were a little wary at first, having heard of his tough reputation through the firehouse. But he seemed to be kind to you anyways, and so you ignored those rumours, choosing to decide for yourself instead. And so your relationship grew from there, secretly spending most of your free nights at his place, learning to trust each other implicitly.

As time went on, the two of your learnt to love each other, both scarred from the outcome of previous relationships. Your days were filled with shy smiles from the texts you'd send to each other, and nights with the feeling of one another. Everything had seemed perfect at the time, blissfully unaware of what he was feeling. Yes, he did love you, but the insecurities and comments were eating away at him. Each day he would come into work or go out to his local gentlemen's club and receive judgments on your relationship, about how you were much younger or better looking than him. He took most of the comments to heart despite you telling him otherwise, but who was he going to believe, over 10 of his closest friends and colleagues or his girlfriend? Eventually, he chose his answer, breaking it off before you could object otherwise.

Distraught was the only word that you could use to describe yourself. You were absolutely heartbroken knowing someone you believed loved you threw it all away because of the opinions of others. Not only were you emotionally broken but also physically, feeling like absolute crap, constantly throwing your guts up and in an ever-changing mood. At first, you just blamed it on the stress you were facing, the breakup had been rough and you'd tried your best to change his mind. But it continued on day by day even after you'd accepted what had happened. Confiding in Sylvie about your problems, she seemed worried for you, urging you to go to the doctors for advice. Although you were apprehensive at first, you followed her instructions, seeking Natalie out to check you over.

You played with your hands nervously as you waited for her to come back with the results of the blood tests. At first, you just thought it was the flu, but after each symptom of yours she checked off her list, your mind knew where this was all going. And so as she confirmed what you were thinking, you froze, tears springing to your eyes not knowing what would happen to you or your baby.

That day you had made one of the most important decisions of your life, you would move back home to Virginia and raise the baby with only the help of your family. And so that's what you did, packing your things up into a moving van, putting your apartment for sale and driving to your new home. It was a little challenging at first to adjust to your new life, you missed your friends overwhelmingly having spent nearly every day of the last five years within the walls of that firehouse. But, you knew you had to move on though, probably never going back to Chicago to allow your child a better life. It had crossed your mind once or twice that maybe Hank would want to know about this, be a part of their life, but you just couldn't chance it. He had let you go over the opinions of others so what would stop him from doing similar with this child? You couldn't take that risk though, so as soon as any thought of him would appear, it would disappear soon after.

It was a struggle being a single parent, going through each trimester of your pregnancy alone. Sometimes you wished he would go through the milestones with you, the first sign of a baby bump, the first kick. And you had your family there with you too, but it was never the same as someone you loved. The worst was when you gave birth, all alone, with no one to hold your hand as you experienced the worst pain of your entire life. However, it had led to the best thing, your son, Jackson. Your life had changed overnight, now you not only lived for yourself but also your son.

As he grew up your happiness also increased, loving life just you and your child. Most of the time it was perfect laughing and playing but others you wanted Hank to be there, helping you out with the hard moments. Things with your family worsened as Jackson grew as well, things becoming rocky as they helped you less and less. And so just after you celebrated your sons third birthday, you decided maybe Chicago wasn't so bad. You could reunite with your friends, have some help with Jackson and potentially get your job back at the firehouse. So that's what you did, once again packing your stuff up and moving the both of you into a shared apartment with Sylvie, your rock in all of this.

Your life had suddenly gone back to normal overnight, picking up your career as a paramedic at 51 whilst you got a babysitter from Jackson. The only people that were aware of your presence were those at the firehouse, trying to keep your return in house so as not to raise any unwanted attention. But that had all changed as you and Brett were once again called to a police crime scene. And your prayers weren't answered as you rolled up to one led by intelligence.

As soon as you exited the ambulance you were faced with the entire team with two people needing assistance, the perpetrator and Hank. Sylvie gave you a knowing look as you grabbed the equipment, allowing you to take the bad guy. But as you walked towards the guy, Hank raised his voice, telling Sylvie he wouldn't be treated by her, wanting to talk to you instead. So you both complied, wandering over and grabbing Hank's head to assess his injuries, not wanting to even look him in the eye. You tried to wrap things up as quickly as you could, refusing to talk to him at all.

"You're back," he stated bluntly, needing to know your reasoning behind leaving in the first place. But you wouldn't give him the pleasure, fixing medical tape onto his wound, before packing up your stuff and hightailing it back into the ambulance. Although you were done with him, he definitely wasn't done with you, having heard some interesting rumours about your departure.

Finding out your new address, Hank made it his mission to see you, to explain what he was thinking. Knocking on the door of your apartment, he wished to see your face, having missed you the four years you had been gone. Just after you had moved your life to Virginia, Hank had a revelation, kicking himself for letting go of someone he loved so much. But instead of meeting your beautiful face, he found some random woman, being informed that you no longer lived there. He had been left distraught, leading to months of emotional instability, bottling it up, only to explode with anger and sadness after too long. But now as you opened the door, he smiled, glad that it was actually you this time.

"Why are you here?" You asked, wedging your body between the door and its frame, not wanting him to spot your child who was happily playing inside.

"I wanted to see you, I missed you," he confessed, wary at your suspicious behaviour.

"Missed me? You broke-"

"Mommy?" Being cut off from your angry rant, your eyes widened at the sound of your son, knowing you would have to reveal him to his father. Picking your toddler up, you tried to close the door, hoping to defuse the situation. Unlucky for you, Hank stopped the door from closing, pushing inside of your apartment.

"Mommy huh?" He questioned, confused at how you had a child.

"What's your name buddy?"

"Jackson," your son replied, blissfully unaware of who this man was and what havoc he was causing.

"And how old are you?" The cogs were turning in Hanks mind, could this child be his?

"I just turned three!" The exclamation from the child, confirmed it all, he was this boys father and you hadn't told him. Straightening up he looked you in the eyes, an angry look on his face.

"Hey, buddy why don't you play in your bedroom?" And with that, you brought your son back into his room, closing the door behind you.

"He's mine isn't he?" Hank questioned that eerily quiet voice piercing your ears. Yes, you hadn't told him, but it was to protect you and your son! Not trusting your voice you nodded your head, giving him the confirmation he needed.

"And you didn't think to tell me?" He roared, his anger overflowing, grabbing your arms to get you to look at him.

"It was to protect him, if you could easily get rid of me, what was stopping you from getting rid of him too?" You cried, knowing what you did was wrong.

"And you didn't think I could make that chose myself?" You could see the tears in the man's eyes, his voice crackling as he realised this was as much his fault as it was yours. You had made the choice but he was ultimately to blame. Bringing you into his arms, you both cried, equally regretting your decisions. Looking back up at him, your feeling flooded back, remembering how much you really loved this man. And so at that moment, you decided that Hank should be part of your boy's life, Jackson was as much his as he was yours.

So that evening was spent introducing the pair, watching as they got along like a house on fire. Hank's experience raising a child previously meant he knew how to please a child, allowing them to bond as father and son. Every time he looked at you, your original feelings intensified, understanding why you had originally thought that he would make a great father. In Hanks mind he was feeling overwhelming joy, the last few years had been so tough for him and this, this was all he could ever want. He had loved Justin with all his heart, but since he had died a black void had overtaken his heart. His grandson had briefly filled it, but that had been taken away again as they left as well. Finally, he had something that could fill this hole, a woman he loved infinitely and had made the biggest mistake of his life by letting her go. And a son, that he would hopefully watch grew up day by day, as a nice, happy family.

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Taglist: @mileika @redpoodlern @yosoynicolexo @chazubagi@scarletsoldierrr @cindydoll2 @anotherfan07 @one-sweet-gubler

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#chicago pd #chicago pd imagines #chicago pd x reader #one chicago #hank voight x reader #hank voight #hank voight imagines

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theartofdreaming1 · 3 years ago

Photo

Katniss, bravely stepping inbetween Gale and Thread (and his whip) - she’s so courageous and protective, she deserves the world 😭

As usual, my thoughts regarding this week’s prompts and (many) random thoughts on chapters 7-9 are below the cut. (Is it just me, or are my notes getting longer and longer with each and every post? I swear, this book is so meaty, we’ll soon reach the point where I have to type out the entire chapter, with my thoughts in the margins)

heart

“Gale is mine. I am his. Anything else in unthinkable.”

I think these words are a result of Katniss being so afraid of losing Gale that she’s kinda overcompensating; their relationship has been strained these past few months and they’d just had a row, separating from each other on bad terms - and the next time she sees him, he’s been whipped so bad that he’s lost consciousness and could be potentially dying from his wounds. Of course she’s so terrified of losing him, that she’s holding on as tightly as she can to him. It’s important to keep in mind how important their relationship is to her and we see that in her preceding thoughts: What a pair we were - fatherless, frightened, but fiercely commited, too, to keeping our families alive. Desperate, yet no longer alone after that day, because we’d found each other. I think of a hundred moments in the woods, lazy afternoons fishing, the day I taught him to swim, that time I twisted my knee and he carried me home. Mutually counting each other, watching each other’s backs, forcing each other to be brave. - Gale was the first person who was her equal, a kindred spirit, her partner. After Katniss had lost both of her parents when her father died and her mother succumbed to her depression - the people who were supposed to care for her and guide her through growing up - she was stuck with the role of sole provider and protector of her family at age eleven. She must have been so lonely all this time until she met this boy who understood what she was going through and they learned from each other and shouldered their burdens together, to take off some of the overwhelming pressure. Of course that relationship, of course Gale is important to her. But also now their relationship has become more fragile, after the Games they are in danger of growing apart - it’s got to be so terrifying to feel like the one proper, mutual relationship you’ve had seems to be slipping through your fingers. With everything that’s going on, her entire life as it is teetering on the razor’s edge (heck, the president himself has been threatening her and her family!), it’s no wonder that Katniss is craving that familiarity and safety that her relationship with Gale used to provide her with. And seeing Gale in this state just has her holding on to him more tightly than ever.

mind

Hmm, no big moment is coming to my mind right now; I think I’m always most impressed by the tiny moments that show how tenacious, resilient and fiercely kind humans can be - like Darius stepping forward to stop Gale’s cruel punishment, Leevy volunteering to tell Hazelle about Gale and promising to stay with the Hawthorne children, Madge bringing the morphling, Katniss pressing Darius’s hand in the Training Center, Twill taking Bonnie with her to flee to D13 and so on.

soul

I believe that Katniss was honestly surprised to learn that Gale had feelings for her; she had categorically shut down the idea of entering a romantic relationship for herself, so I don’t think she’d seriously consider anyone being romantically interested in her in return (that’s not how that works, of course, but I think that’s how she perceived the whole shtick). Their kiss threw her completely for a loop and if anything, she mostly saw it as something that contributed to the deterioration of their previous, easy and comfortable relationship.

Chapter 7

A mockingjay is a creature the Capitol never intended to exist. [...] They hadn’t anticipated its will to live. - In a way, the Capitol continues to make this mistake with the people living in the districts, too - underestimating their will to live (opposed to just surviving)

I look in his [Gale’s] eyes. His temper can’t quite mask the hurt, the sense of betrayal he feels at my engagement to Peeta. This will be my last chance, this meeting today, to not lose Gale forever. - Okay, we don’t know how much Katniss might be (incorrectly) presuming here, but the idea that Gale might feel betrayal because his best friend is being forced into an engagement pisses me off. It’s fine if he’s feeling jealous because she’s being paired off with Peeta when he wishes he could have a shot with her, but how in the world does this even rate as a betrayal?! A) It’s done against her will and B) Just because they’re friends doesn’t mean Katniss owes him anything when we’re talking about romantic feelings... Ugh 😒 Also, it’s quite noteworthy how insecure Katniss feels about their relationship - she’s constantly worried Gale will drop her and their friendship (waiting for Gale after the camera teams left after winning the Games: I’d begun to think that he’d given up on me in the weeks that had passed.- Ch. 2) and it doesn’t help that she’s been through that extreme, traumatic experience without him and they haven’t had much opportunity to spend a lot of time with each other (with the Victory Tour and Gale having to work so much) and when they do hang out, they don’t seem to really talk much, which doesn’t exactly help...

He [Gale] tosses the gloves on my lap. “Here. I don’t want your fiancé’s old gloves.” “He’s not my fiancé. That’s just part of the act. And these aren’t his gloves. They were Cinna’s,” I say. “Give them back, then, he says. - Gale can be so petty sometimes 🙄

While I talk, [...] [Gale] occupies himself with turning the food in the leather bag into a meal for us. Toasting bread and cheese, coring apples, placing chestnuts in the fire to roast. I watch his hands, his beautiful, capable fingers. Scarred, as mine were before the Captiol erased all marks from my skin, but strong and deft. [...] Hands I trust. - Oh boy, this moment really shows how these two are at cross purposes right now - Gale’s prepping the food as you would for a toasting (romantic connotation), while Katniss is oberserving his hands, thinking how their hands used to match (not anymore!) and basically wishing herself back into the time before the Games, when things were ‘simpler’/more clearly defined (and also platonic!); there is nothing romantic from her P.O.V. - it’s all about the friendship and trust

[Gale] steps in and I feel myself lifted off the ground. The room spins, and I have to lock my arms around Gale’s neck to brace myself. He’s laughing, happy. “Hey!” I protest, but I’m laughing, too. Gale sets me down but doesn’t release his hold on me. “Okay, let’s run away.” [...] “You’re sure?” I say. [...] “I’m sure. I’m completely, entirely, one hundred percent sure.” - Yeah, and I’m sure you’re not going to change your opinion in the next five minutes, Gale... In his defense, Gale didn’t know all the details, so in that regard it’s totally valid that he might decide to change his mind after having more input... It’s just that Katniss specifically asks him whether he’s sure and his reply is so full of conviction (100% sure!), only for him to do a complete 180 just a couple of minutes later; Gale’s very hot and cold, which makes for such a harsh contrast when compared to Peeta’s more measured reaction later in the chapter

He tilts his forehead down to rest against mine and pulls me closer. [...] I don’t try to move away. Why should I, anyway? His voice drops to a whisper. “I love you.” That’s why. - Oh man, Katniss just can’t catch a break 😞 Really not wise of Gale to drop the L-bomb here (after, what? a kiss they never talked about and little else... their communication is truly abysmal and it’s really damaging to their relationship, hurting the both of them)

“Gale, I can’t think about anyone that way now. All I can think about, every day, is how afraid I am. And there doesn’t seem to be room for anything else. If we could get somewhere safe, maybe I could be different. I don’t know.” I can see him swallowing his disappointment. “So, we’ll go. We’ll find out.” - I mean, honestly, I totally understand where Katniss is coming from - she doesn’t need a romantic interest, she needs a partner, which is why she’s been so eager to talk to her hunting partner, someone she’s used to rely on for survival and now he’s also confounding their relationship by introducing that romance-angle (as if it wasn’t bad enough that her relationship with Peeta got kind of messed up when that same angle was forced upon them prematurely)... Also, telling how Katniss thinks she’d have to be different to maybe even consider a romantic relationship with Gale - Katniss as she is right now just can’t see herself wanting to be with Gale romantically; it would require a change... I’ve got to give Gale credit for still going along with it, and trying to push past his disappointment, though

“My [Gale’s] mother is going to take some convincing.” [...] “Mine, too. I’ll just have to make her see reason. Take her for a long walk. Make sure she understands we won’t survive the alternative.” “She’ll understand. I watched a lot of the Games with her and Prim. She won’t say no to you,” says Gale. - That’s interesting, I wonder what exactly Gale means by that? That Mrs. Everdeen won’t say no to Katniss because she feels guilty that Katniss had to go through the Games or because watching her daughter compete in the Games really made her realize how messed up Panem is? Or that she’s more inclined to trust Katniss’s judgement after everything that has happened?

“Haymitch will be the real challenge.” “Haymitch?” Gale abandons the chestnuts. “You’re asking him to come with us?” “I have to, Gale. I can’t leave him and Peeta because they’d-” His scowl cuts me off. “What?” “I’m sorry. I didn’t realize how large our party was,” he snaps at me. - Gale doesn’t seem to have realized how close and important Peeta and Haymitch have become to Katniss... maybe because they never properly talked about this aspect of Katniss’s life (I swear, their shoddy communication must account for at least half of the damage their relationship has taken in these past few months alone)

“What if he [Peeta] decides to stay?” he [Gale] asks. I try to sound indifferent, but my voice cracks. “Then he stays.” “You’d leave him behind?” Gale asks. “To save Prim and my mother, yes,” I answer. “I mean, no! I’ll get him to come.” “And me, would you leave me?” Gale’s expression is rock hard now. - Boy, oh boy! I think Gale knows (like Peeta) that Katniss could never leave behind the people she cares about; then, he’s kind of gauging whether Peeta has already received the Katniss Everdeen Stamp of ‘Caring’ - and, as it turns out, he has! And then Gale ends up making it into a bit of competition by asking her whether she would leave him behind (or, alternately, her turning him down has him confused about the depth of their relationship, I dunno); not fun

“There’s an uprising in Eight?” he [Gale] says in a hushed voice. I try to backpedal. To defuse him, as I tried to defuse the districts. - Katniss is going to be about as successful as she’d been at defusing the districts, too - But here we have another example of Katniss trying to rein in Gale’s temper because she’s afraid he’s going to get himself in trouble (like when she decided not to tell him about Snow’s visit to her house because she was worried what he’d do with that information)... It’s really not great that she feels the need to censor herself so he won’t do something dangerous... Katniss knows first-hand how badly impulsive actions and decisions can be received in the Capitol - and she never even meant for a rebellion to happen!

“And it’s my fault, Gale. Because of what I did in the arena. If I had just killed myself with those berries, none of this would’ve happened. Peeta could have come home and lived, and everyone else would have been safe. too.” “Safe to do what?” he says in a gentler tone. “Starve? Work like slaves? Send their kids to the reaping? You haven’t hurt people - you’ve given them an opportunity. They just have to be brave enough to take it. - Katniss is taking all the responsibility upon herself again... Gale is right to point out that she was merely a catalyst, not the cause for the rebellion - the cause are the awful living conditions of the people in the districts

“Stop it! You don’t know what you’re saying. The Peacekeepers outside of Twelve, they’re not like Darius, or even Cray! The lives of district people - they mean less than nothing to them!” I say. “That’s why we have to join the fight!” he answers harshly. “No! we have to leave here before they kill us and a lot of other people, too!” [...] “You leave, then, I’d never go in a million years.” [...] “What about your family?” “What about the other families, Katniss? The ones who can’t run away?” - This discourse is so painful because they are both right - Katniss has seen more of the districts and how things are handled beyond the (relatively tame) confines of D12 and it’s fair that she wants to know that the people she cares about are safe from harm; Gale, of course, has a point commenting that not everyone has that opportunity and the only way to have a long-lasting, wide-spread improvement of their conditions is through rebelling against their oppressor - but that will inevitably come along with sacrifices and collateral damage and it’s easy to say that it will be worth it in the long run, but when those who are hurt/dead could end up being your loved ones, it’s definitely easier said than done

He throws Cinna’s gloves at my feet. “I changed my mind. I don’t want anything they made in the Capitol.” And he’s gone. I look down at the gloves. Anything they made in the Capitol? Was that directed at me? Does he think I am now just another product of the Capitol and therefore something untouchable? The unfairness of it all fills me with rage. But it’s mixed up with fear over what kind of crazy thing he might do next. - Gale getting rid of Cinna’s gloves just because they are from the Capitol is a prime example of this “us vs. them” mindset that he will be (worringly) fast to adopt - of course, perceiving the opposite side as “other” will make it easier to fight against them; however, it’s all too easy to lose sight of your opponent’s humanity when you think like that (think of how Gale has a hard time understanding Katniss’s distress upon seeing her prep team being treated so terribly/inhumanely in D13); Katniss feeling upset that Gale might perceive her as a product of the Capitol instead of its victim is understandable (and isn’t that exactly what the inhabitants of D13 are going to think of Peeta in MJ?) - and yet, she is still worried Gale could get himself into trouble with his impulsivity; she’s a good bean

”Going to town?” I ask. “Yes. I’m supposed to eat dinner with my family,” he [Peeta] says. - I’m tripping over the word ‘supposed’ here - it doesn’t sound like Peeta’s looking forward to hanging out with his fam, although it can’t be that often, since they’ve been away on Victory Tour and he is living alone (maybe the end of the chapter will give us another hint why that is 😒😒)... I can’t help but wonder whether these family dinners are mainly for public perception (in that case... it really is no wonder Peeta is so good at playing the cameras - poor guy had to fool the outside world his entire life) or because they are the only chance for Peeta to hang out with any of the members of his family he might actually want to spend some time with

“Peeta, if I asked you to run away from the district with me, would you?” Peeta takes my arm, bringing me to a stop. He doesn’t need to check my face to see if I’m serious. “Depends on why you’re asking.” President Snow wasn’t convinced by me. There’s an uprising in District Eight. We have to get out,” I say. “By ‘we’ do you mean just you and me? No. Who else would be going?” he asks. - Peeta doesn’t just blindly agree to Katniss’s proposal; he needs to know what’s going on first (he has been burnt before - no more secrets!) - and it’s a testament to how well he knows her that as soon as he’s asking whether she meant just the two of them, he corrects himself because knows that Katniss would never leave the ones she cares about behind

“What about Gale?” he says. “I don’t know. He might have other plans,” I say. Peeta shakes his head and gives me rueful smile. “I bet he does. Sure, Katniss, I’ll go.” I feel a slight twinge of hope. “You will?” “Yeah. But I don’t think for a minute you will,” he says. [...] “Then you don’t know me. Be ready. It could be any time.” - Telling how Peeta immediately agrees to the plan once he gathers that Gale won’t come - he knows that Katniss cares about Gale and could never leave him behind, ergo she’d never actually leave under these circumstances - he knows her so well. Also, Katniss’s reaction is like that of a petulant child, it’s kind of funny 😄

“Katniss, hold up.” [...] “I really will go, if you want me to. I just think we better talk it through with Haymitch. Make sure we won’t be making things worse for everyone.” - Ultimately, Peeta would follow Katniss to the ends of the earth - doesn’t mean that he can’t throw in a sensible suggestion in there as well 😉 (Also, in the next chapter we will see how Katniss, Gale, and Peeta might be a little too inexperienced/naive to be able to form accurate expectations of what is to come - Haymitch and his generation have a little more experience in that regard)

He raises his head. “What’s that?” [...] I haven’t noticed the strange noise coming from the square. A whistling, the sound of an impact, the intake of breath from a crowd. “Come on,” Peeta says, his face suddenly hard. I don’t know why. I can’t place the sound, even guess at the situation. But it means something bad to him. - Why does my sweet boy know what a whipping sounds like, Suzanne, huh?! Care to explain that? 😭

Peeta steps up on a crate against the wall of the sweetshop and offers me a hand while he scans the square. I’m halfway up when he suddenly blocks my way. “Get down. Get out of here!” He’s whispering, but his voice is harsh with insistence. - Peeta was offering his hand to help Katniss up the crate because they are a team (and he’s a gentleman)! It’s only when he recognizes who is receiving those lashes and realizes that Katniss will lose her shit once she knows, which could make the current situation even worse, that he urges her to leave, and he is not the only one to think that: - Voices hiss. “Get out of here, girl.” “Only make it worse.” What do you want to do? Get him killed?”

Chapter 8

It’s too late to stop the arm from descending, and I instinctively know I won’t have the power to block it. Instead I throw myself directly between the whip and Gale. I’ve flung out my arms to protext as much of his broken body as possible, so there’s nothing to deflect the lash. I take the full force of it across the left side of my face. - Katniss is so selfless; she knows that it’s either Gale getting hit again or a lash to her own face and she chooses the latter

“Hold it!” a voice barks. Haymitch appears and trips over a Peacekeeper lying on the ground. It’s Darius. [...] He’s knocked out but still breathing. What happened? Did he try to come to Gale’s aid before I got here? - Haymitch sure appeared quickly - I can easily imagine Peeta taking off immediately to get him (or send someone to bring him to the square) once he knew Katniss couldn’t be stopped; but if Haymitch had been at his house in Victor’s Village, there is no way he’d have made that quickly to the square... maybe he was already at the Hob and had gotten wind of the whole situation? Also, poor Darius! Wearing a uniform/being in some sort of position of power is no guarantee you won’t get punished as soon as you show the tiniest glimpse of compassion - in a place like Panem, nobody is safe from the caprice of the people in charge

I see a flicker of recognition in the eyes of the man with the whip. [...] it wouldn’t be easy to identify me as the victor of the last Hunger Games. Especially with half my face swelling up. But Haymitch has been showing up on television for years, and he’d be difficult to forget. - Getting Haymitch truly was the smartest move to make (which is why I’m pretty sure it was a move on Peeta’s part - he’d know how to use reminders of ‘appearances’ to ensure a punishment wouldn’t go ‘too far’, y’know 😢). But also - Thread must have lived under a flipping rock, to not being able to recognizes Katniss (her face must have been plastered all over the place during the Victory Tour, which just had concluded recently) - or he was just too in the heat of the moment, with someone opposing him, bleugh 😒

“He [Gale] was poaching. What business is it of hers, anyway?” says the man. “He’s her cousin.” Peeta’s got my other arm now, but gently. “And she’s my fiancée. So if you want to get to him, expect to go through both of us.” - I love how Peeta’s just laying it down as it is; his phrasing just sounds so factual, rather than provocative (although it is, of course); he really has a way with words - Maybe we’re it. The only three people in the district who could make a stand like this. Although it’s sure to be temporary. There will be repercussions. - Haymitch, Peeta, and Katniss working together as a team again! Also, a good example of the effect people with public influence can have

One [Peacekeeper], a woman named Purnia who eats regularly at Greasy Sae’s, steps forward stiffly. “I believe, for a first offense, the required number of lashes has been dispensed, sir. Unless your sentence is death, which we would carry out by firing squad.” “Is that the standard protocol here?” asks the Head Peacekeeper. “Yes, sir,” Purnia says, and several others nod in agreement. I’m sure none of them actually know because, in the Hob, the standard protocol for someone showing up with a wild turkey is for everybody to bid on the drumsticks. - It’s kinda nice to see the local Peacekeepers supporting Purnia’s claim to get this display to stop - this is the only way out of this situation where Thread’s authority is not openly challenged (and we know Thread doesn’t take well to having his authority challenged - see Darius)

There’s no stretcher, but the old woman at the clothing stall sells us the board that serves as her countertop. “Just don’t tell where you got it,” she says, packing up the rest of her goods quickly. Most of the square has emptied, fear getting the better of compassion. But after what happened, I can’t blame anyone. - It’s sad how that air of intimidation makes people want to mask their acts of compassion (and also says a lot about the precariousness of the existing living situations if that old lady is still selling that board - I’d never even consider exchanging money for that, but that’s probably my privileged situation showing here; Katniss brings up the theme of fear vs compassion - very fitting, since it seems to be her driving force (although, generally, her compassion wins out over her fear) and despite her assertion that fear appears to be getting the better of compassion we see a good amount of people reaching out to help, such as the following example:

Leevy, a girl who lives a few houses down from mine in the Seam, takes my arm. My mother kept her little brother alive last year when he caught the measles. “Need help getting back?” Her gray eyes are scared but determined. - The subtle suggestion here that Leevy might be further motivated to help out because Katniss’s mom helped her little brother is also an excellent example of how kindness breeds kindness

“Get some snow on that,” Haymitch orders over his shoulder. I scoop up a handful of snow and press it against my cheek, numbing a bit of the pain. - This moment reminded me of Peeta immediately reaching for some ice from that fruit tureen after Haymitch hit him on their way to the Games in THG (Ch. 4) - their different immediate reactions to getting hit in the face could simply be due to the fact that Katniss is a little too preoccupied worrying about Gale to think about her injury, of course, but I feel like you could also interpret them as examples for how much experience Katniss and Peeta have with being hit in the face, respectively...

Gale must have gone to Cray’s house, as he’s done a hundred times, knowing Cray pays well for a wild turkey. Instead he found the new Head Peacekeeper, a man they heard someone call Romulus Thread. No one knows what happened to Cray. He was buying white liquor in the Hob just this morning [...] but now he’s nowhere to be found. - As I’ve already mentioned regarding Darius, inhabiting some position of power does not guarantee you any safety in Panem (there is always someone more powerful who will treat their inferiors like garbage, if they feel like it)

By the time I showed up, he [Gale]’d been lashed at least forty times. He passed out around thirty. - Jesus 😨 poor Gale!

“What about Darius?” Peeta asks.“ After about twenty lashes, he stepped in, saying that was enough. Only he didn’t do it smart and official, like Purnia did. He grabbed Thread’s arm and Thread hit him in the head with the butt of the whip. Nothing good waiting for him,” says Bristel. - It’s so messed up how it is not enough to have someone who’d stand up and do something about a horrible situation - they have to do it the right way, or else they’re toast; there really shouldn’t have to be a smart way of doing the right thing

Snow begins, thick and wet, making visibility even more difficult. - (President) Snow is coming down hard on them, making it hard to see what’s up ahead

Ever so gently, she [Mrs. Everdeen] begins to clean the mutilated flesh on Gale’s back. I feel sick to the stomach, useless, the remaining snow dripping from my glove into a puddle on the floor. Peeta puts me in a chair and holds a cloth filled with fresh snow to my cheek. - Although she’s quite squeamish, Katniss stays as Gale gets treated (the force that holds the loved ones of the hurt/dying, just like when Peeta was being treated after their Games); meanwhile, Peeta is taking care of Katniss - there is so much care + love to be found in this moment

My mother has to save the strongest [painkillers] for the worst pain, but what is the worst pain? To me, it’s always the pain that is present. If I were in charge, those painkillers would be gone in a day because I have so little ability to watch suffering. - Honestly, same; I can’t stomach seeing other people suffer without feeling overwhelmed and feeling like crying... I don’t know how professionals do it

“Just give him the medicine!” I scream at her. [...] “Take her out,” says my mother. Haymitch and Peeta literally carry me from the room while I shout obscenities at her. They pin me down on a bed in one of the extra bedrooms until I stop fighting. - Oof. Poor Katniss! But yeah, it was the best call to remove her from the situation, Mrs. E. had to focus on what she was doing... Also, Haymitch and Peeta are the ones to get Katniss out of there and stay with her - these three take care of each other!

After a while, my mother comes in and treats my face. Then she holds my hand, stroking my arm, while Haymitch fills her in on what happened with Gale. “So it’s starting again?” she says. “Like before?” - Katniss’s mom has become a much more active and soothing presence in this book, I like it... Also, what does “again” mean? Does this imply there has been an attempted uprising in D12 that needed to be squashed before?

Cray would have been disliked, anyway, because of the uniform he wore, but it was his habit of luring starving young women into his bed for money that made him an object of loathing in the district. In really bad times, the hungriest would gather at his door at nightfall, vying for the chance to earn a few coins to feed their families by selling their bodies. Had I been older when my father died, I might have been among them. - Horrifying and absolutely disgusting 🤢 Those poor women! How desperate they must have been!

... when the doorbell rings, I shoot straight out of bed. [...] “They [the peacekeepers] can’t have him,” I say. “Might be you they’re after,” Haymitch reminds me. “Or you,” I say. “Not my house,” Haymitch points out. “But I’ll get the door.” “No, I’ll get it,” says my mother quietly. - Again, Mrs. Everdeen is taking the initiative! She was so watered down in the movies

[Madge] holds out a small, damp cardboard box to me. “Use these for your friend,” she says. I take off the lid of the box, revealing half a dozen vials of clear liquid. [...] “What is that stuff?” asks Peeta. “It’s from the Capitol. It’s called morphling,” my mother answers. “I didn’t even know Madge knew Gale,” says Peeta. “We used to sell her strawberries,” I say almost angrily. What am I angry about, though? Not that she has brought the medicine, surely. “She must have quite a taste for them,” says Haymitch. That’s what nettles me. It’s the implication that there’s something going on between Gale and Madge. And I don’t like it. “She’s my friend” is all I say. - I mean, Katniss could be mad because A) Gale had literally just told her he loved her a few hours ago and if there was something (reciprocated) going on between Gale and Madge, that would have been pretty shitty for both girls involved and also B) she is friends with both of them and it would be hurtful to learn that two of your closest friends had been seeing each other without telling you anything about it... also, she’s super upset over Gale getting so seriously hurt just after they’d had an argument, her feelings are all over the place

... I’m selfish. I’m a coward. I’m the kind of girl, who, when she might actually be of use, would run to stay alive and leave those who couldn’t follow to suffer and die. This is the girl Gale met in the woods today. No wonder I won the Games. No decent person ever does. You saved Peeta, I think weakly. But now I question even that. I knew good and well that my life back in District 12 would be unlivable if I let that boy die. - Yes, Katniss, you knew that your life back in D12 would have been unlivable if he died - but not because you feared that people would shun you; it was because you “couldn’t lose the boy with the bread” and because “if he dies, I’ll never go home, not really”... This is an excellent example of how distorted your memories can get when you are in a bad headspace at present

The berries. I realize the answer to who I am lies in that handful poisonous fruit. If I held them out to save Peeta because I knew I would be shunned if I came back without him, then I am despicable. If I held them out because I loved him, I am still self-centered, although forgivable. But if I held them out to defy the Capitol, I am someone of worth. - Katniss, you don’t have to be planning to overthrow a corrupt and cruel government to be someone of worth! You’re someone of worth just by being yourself! - The trouble is, I don’t know exactly what was going on inside me at that moment. - Frankly, very rarely are our motivations clearly defined by a single factor - or my professor would not have been able to teach an entire semester-long course on motivation psychology😉)

Chapter 9

Gale’s dead to the world, but his fingers are locked around mine. I smell fresh bread and turn my stiff neck to find Peeta looking down at me with such a sad expression. I get the sense that he’s been watching us awhile. “Go on up to bed, Katniss. I’ll look after him now,” he says. - Peeta! Must have been hard for him to see Katniss like this (and the underlying strength of Katniss and Gale’s relationship, when his relationship with Katniss is still not all that solidified), and yet he’s being such a good bean about it 😭

I give a strangled cry and wake with a start, sweating and shivering at once. Cradling my damaged cheek in my hand, I remind myself that it was not Clove but Thread who gave me this wound. I wish that Peeta were here to hold me, until I remember I’m not supposed to wish that anymore. I have chosen Gale and the rebellion, and a future with Peeta is the Capitol’s design, not mine. - Katniss, gurl... Maybe your instinctive desire to receive comfort from Peeta is trying to tell you something??!? Also, Katniss is forcing this strange dichotomous association of Gale = rebellion and Peeta = Capitol, when in just a bit, she’s clearly connecting Peeta to the rebellion as well (aside from the fact that Peeta was basically the first person to suggest to her that maybe a rebellion was necessary... just saying)

Fighting the Capitol assures their swift retaliation. I must accept that at any moment I can be arrested. [...] There might be torture. Mutliation. A bullet through the skull in the town square [...] I imagine these things and I’m terrified, but let’s face it: They’ve been lurking in the back of my brain, anyway. [...] I’m already a target. - Oh geez! Despite admitting that she’s terrified of what the Capitol is capable fo doing to her, Katniss is still pretty composed naming the possible horrors in store for her, which is just a heartbreaking reminder of how many terrible things she has already had to endure.🙁

Now comes the harder part. I have to face the fact that my family and friends might share this fate. Prim. I need only to think of Prim and all my resolve disintegrates. It’s my job to protect her. [...] I can’t let the Capitol hurt Prim. - 😭😭😭 Katniss has reached a point where she can put her own need for survival/physical intactness aside, but the thought of something awful happening to Prim stops her short (it’s so strange to think that, in a twisted way, it wasn’t the Capitol who’d ended up inflicting the final harm upon Prim...)

And then it hit’s me. They already have. They have killed her father in those wretched mines. They have sat by as she almost starved to death. [...] She has been hurt far worse than I had at the age of twelve. And even that pales in comparison with Rue’s life. [...] Prim... Rue... aren’t they the very reason I have to try to fight? Because what has been done to them is so wrong, so beyond justification, so evil that there is no choice? Because no one has the right to treat them as they have been treated? Yes. This is the thing to remember when fear threatens to swallow me up. What I am about to do, whatever any of us are forced to endure, it is for them. - All these things are very true and it’s also very fitting that the main motivation for Katniss would be to ensure a better future for the children of Panem (and to avenge the evils done to the people close to her heart... while Katniss of course can see the abstract bigger picture/reason for the rebellion, she always operates best when it comes to specific people/circumstances she has a deep, personal connection with)... But also: all these things apply to you, too, Katniss! Despite your tendency to feel responsible for everything and everyone, you’re still a child that had to grow up way too fast and had to endure way too much!

We need someone to direct us and reassure us this is possible. And I don’t think I’m that person. I may have been a catalyst for rebellion, but a leader should be someone with conviction, and I’m barely a convert myself. Someone with unflinching courage, and I’m still working hard at finding mine. Someone with clear and persuasive words, and I’m so easily tongue-tied. Words. I think of words and I think of Peeta. - Katniss’s idea of a great leader for the rebellion is Peeta - interesting, isn’t it (she could have considered Gale, but no)? She makes a good point, though: it helps when a leader has plenty of charisma, and our boy has that in spades; he’s got a good set of morals, is not above joining in on the action/risking his own neck when the need arises and is very genuine and purposeful with his words and actions, which is inspiring... I think Katniss is severely underselling how courageous she is, though

He could move a crowd to action, I bet, if he chose to. Would find the things to say. But I’m sure the idea has never crossed his mind. - Why would you assume that, Katniss? Peeta’s literally the one to suggest to you that trying to placate the district might not be the right thing to do... Peeta’s not someone who’d stir up trouble just for the sake of stirring up trouble, sure; he’s much more deliberate about doing things the ‘right’ way, but he’s not generally opposed to challenging authorities (he’s literally the one to openly gift some of your winnings to another district!)

She knows what she’s doing, my mother. I feel a pang of remorse about yesterday, the awful things I yelled at her as Peeta and Haymitch dragged me from the kitchen. “I’m sorry. About screaming at you yesterday.” - It’s so sweet how Katniss feels sorry for yelling at her mom and apologizes to her; their relationship really has improved so much in this book - “I’ve heard worse,” she says. “You’ve seen how people are, when someone they love is in pain.” Someone they love. [...] Of course, I love Gale. But what kind of love does she mean? What do I mean when I say I love Gale? I don’t know. I did kiss him last night, in a moment when my emotions were running so high. But i’m sure he doesn’t remember it. Does he? I hope not. - Katniss is struggling to figure out in what way she loves Gale... She definitely doesn’t want him to remember their kiss because she knows it wouldn’t be fair to give him the hope that she might be able to return his romantic feelings when she is still in the dark about her own

... and I can’t really think about kissing when I’ve got a rebellion to incite. I give my head a little shake to clear it. “Where’s Peeta?” I say. - Lol, goes on to immediately mention the guy she’s been kissing these past few weeks (see, with Peeta you could actually have both: kissing and rebellion, Katniss - he’s the perfect man, isn’t he? 😉😋)

“He went home when he heard you stirring. Didn’t want to leave his house unattended during the storm,” says my mother. - Yeah, I don’t think Peeta left because of his house; I’m pretty sure he needed some time to himself after seeing Katniss and Gale this morning - he is the type of person who needs to be alone to work through his feelings when he’s feeling upset - “Did he get back all right?” [...] “Why don’t you give him a call and check?” she says. I go into the study, a room I’ve pretty much avoided since my meeting with President Snow, and dial Peeta’s number. After a few rings he answers. “Hey. I just wanted to make sure you got home,” I say. “Katniss. I live three houses away from you,” he says. “I know, but with the weather and all,” I say. “Well, I’m fine. Thank you for checking.” There’s a long pause. “How’s Gale?” - Aww, Katniss is worried about Peeta and gives him a call, although she hates being in the study 😊 Also, her calling him must have been at least of some reassurance to Peeta that she genuinely cares about him, in some way (though, he’s still clearly busy processing her relationship with Gale, since he’s asking about him as if he hadn’t seen that dude just a couple of minutes prior)

“Have you seen Haymitch today?” “I checked in on him. Dead drunk. But I built up his fire and left him some bread,” he says. “I wanted to talk to - to both of you.” I don’t dare add more, here on my phone, which is surely tapped. - Despite everything, Peeta still made sure to look after Haymitch! And I know, there is also the issue of their houses themselves potentially being bugged, but I couldn’t help imagining how they could easily avoid the whole phone-tapping thing simply by using a tin can telephone (they do live pretty close to each other, after all) 😂

“You don’t even have a phone,” I say. “Effie had that fixed,” he [Haymitch] says. “Do you know she asked me if I’d like to give you away? I told her the sooner the better.” “Haymitch.” I can hear the pleading creeping into my voice. “Katniss.” He mimics my tone. “It won’t work.” - Okay, but Haymitch mimicking Katniss’s tone reminds me so much of when Peeta mimicked her tone towards the end of their Games, when she was trying to persuade him to climb into a tree as a lookout while he was insistent she’d show him some plants to gather; these three, I swear! 😂 On a sad note, Haymitch is talking from experience here when he’s advising Katniss not to challenge the Capitol 🥺😢

Some streets away from the square, I see a blaze flare up. None of us has to say it. That can only be the Hob going up in smoke. I think of Greasy Sae, Ripper, all my friends who make their livings there. - Katniss considers the people from the Hob her friends - honestly, even if the Hawthornes, Everdeens, Peeta and Haymitch all had agreed to leave D12, I don’t think Katniss would have been able to go through with it - she cares too much about the people in D12 to have been able to leave them to their fate

“Well, I better go see how much rubbing alcohol the apothecary can spare.” He [Haymitch] trudges off across the square and I look at Peeta. “What’s he want that for?” Then I realize the answer. “We can’t let him drink it. He’ll kill himself, or at the very least go blind. I’ve got some white liquor put away at home.” “Me, too. Maybe that will hold him until Ripper finds a way to be back in business,” says Peeta. - Another instance of Katniss and Peeta being on the same wavelength, having taken precautions to help out Haymitch so he doesn’t have to go cold turkey again

We find Hazelle in her house, nursing a very sick Posy. I recognize the measles spots. “I couldn’t leave her,” she says. “I knew Gale’d be in the best possible hands.” - The second mention of someone having contracted the measles in D12 - Why the heck does the Capitol withhold measles vaccination from the people in the districts?! They’re inflicting unnecessary damage onto the very people they want to exploit... But I guess cruelty isn’t always about playing it smart and logical...

When we’re outside, I turn to Peeta. “You go on back. I want to walk by the Hob.” “I’ll go with you,” he says. “No. I’ve dragged you into enough trouble,” I tell him. “And avoiding a stroll by the Hob... that’s going to fix things for me?” He smiles and takes my hand. - They are a team, they stick together (and they are constantly holding hands, always physically linked to each other)😩💕 Also, Peeta pointing out the irrationality of Katniss’s train of thought to calm her down and stay with her reminds me of how he’s going to use logical reasoning to calm her down after the jabberjays in the Quarter Quell arena

We go back to the square. I buy some cakes from Peeta’s father while they exchange small talk about the weather. No one mentions the ugly tools of torture just yards from the front door. The last thing I notice as we leave the square is that I do not recognize even one of the Peacekeepers’ faces. - How weird is it that Peeta and his dad just talk about the weather?! Is this supposed to illustrate how in the Mellark family they just ignored the ugliness going on in their lives *cough cough* the abuse *cough cough* and just pretended that everything was fine, on a very superficial level? Also, it makes perfect sense that the Peacekeepers have been exchanged; the more time we spend with people, the more likely we are to like them - that won’t do if you want to have a ruthless authoritarian police force in the districts

As the days pass, things go from bad to worse. The mines stay shut for two weeks, and by that time half of District 12 is starving. The number of kids signing up for tesserae soars, but they often don’t receive their grain. Food shortages begin, and even those with money come away from stores empty-handed. [...] The eagerly awaited food promised for Parcel Day arrives spoiled and defiled by rodents. - This is just so awful and despicable 😞 Life in the districts was already horrible but now the government does not even honor the extortionary rules they themselves have set up! I can’t help but wonder if the lack of food could be traced back to rebellions in the food supplying districts and, to keep this from the inhabitants of the Capitol, the reduced amount of good food was (obviously) kept for the Capitolites, so that the bad food had to be sent to the districts, anyway... It just seems like such a breach of ‘honor’/etiquette on the Capitol’s part, I dunno... Or maybe Snow was just desperate to use any means necessary to stamp out any potential rebellions in the districts that he still had some control over...

Gale goes home with no more talk of rebellion between us. But I can’t help thinking that everything he sees will only strengthen his resolve to fight back. [...] Rory has signed up for tesserae, something Gale can’t even speak about - Poor, Gale! Poor Hawthornes :(

My fingers have all but decided to release the arrow when I see the object in the glove. It’s a small white circle of flat bread. More of a cracker, really. Gray and soggy around the edges. But an image is clearly stamped in the center of it. It’s my mockingjay. - It is so very telling that the true symbol of the rebellion combines something symbolic of Katniss (which also contains a nod to Rue) and something symbolic of Peeta (the bread/cracker!) The people in the districts have rightfully recognized the both of them as symbol of the rebellion; they have a truer vision of the matter than the more artifically/forcefully constructed symbol of rebellion that D13 /Coin will push - we will also see that when the people in D13 will view Peeta as a traitor, while the rebels Katniss will visit in D8 instead ask her about Peeta and assure her that they know he was speaking under duress

#thgagain #thg #katniss everdeen #hunger games #thg meta #peeta mellark #haymitch abernathy #gale hawthorne #my sketches and drawings #thg fanart #catching fire

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choralmeres · 3 years ago

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If You Look Closer

msr. fbi event plotline. tagging @today-in-fic

It was a normal FBI Event.

They called it an event because it wasn’t a party- nor was it a business meeting. It was something in-between. Something that couldn’t really be explained; so they just said it was a social event.

There would be one every year, a few months before the Christmas Gala. Sometimes even more than one; depending on how the previous year went. And it really was nothing special.

Well, on a few truly special years, there were food allergies- cases of not having enough of a specific food or drink- but that was mostly it.

And honestly the event would have been exactly the same as last year, if there wasn’t one tiny little detail that was different.

The fact that Fox Mulder was in attendance.

It wouldn’t have been that strange if Mulder had gone to FBI initiated events regularly, or even if he cancelled at the last minute (he was known to do that often), but whatever the reason was, Fox Mulder did not go to these events.

He didn’t even go to team building seminars; and in his whole time in the FBI, he had gone to two galas at Skinner’s persistence.

But weirdly, no one questioned Mulder; they all assumed that one of the assistant directors forced him to go.

And the assistant directors assumed that someone else had persuaded him into going. That part was true- but not in the way that they thought.

To a trained eye, to someone who looked closer and noticed every tiny detail, they’d realize that something strange was going on. Not the regular case-solving, why-isn’t-that-serial-killer-killing-that-guy strange, but a different kind of strange.

They would realize that Agent Mulder had barely spoken five words to Agent Scully in the last hour; except for a short nod of the head and a hello.

Of course, that would have been strange, because Mulder and Scully were known to be a very tight-knit duo.

Except it wasn’t.

Because if one had looked even closer, they would have also noticed that Mulder and Scully both left the room at slightly staggered times, but both gone- that Agent Scully’s lipstick was smoothly re-applied at least four times that evening.

The fact that they glanced at each other when they thought the other wasn’t looking.

And finally, if one happened to look at the courtyard security cameras at exactly ten thirty in the evening, they’d see the shadow of a redhead, furiously making out with her partner.

But alas, no one looked- and therefore, no one knew about Mulder and Scully’s courtyard escapades.

Maybe next year- maybe if they looked closer.

#the x files #txf fanfic #fanfic #dana scully #fox mulder #msr #fbi event stuff #this is really short but jdhsdwen

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the-insomniac-emporium · 4 years ago

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Serenade (Daniela Dimitrescu/Reader) Pt. 6

Fandom: Resident Evil: Village Rating: T for language, brief violence, and a line that hints at past physical abuse (depending on how you choose to interpret it) Warnings: Mild TW for implied/referenced abuse Notes: Okay so this was supposed to be somewhat therapeutic? But it ended up taking longer to get to that part than I intended, so... Don't worry though, next chapter will be fluffy and also involve more, like, actual Daniela scenes. Previous Chapters: Pt. 1: Nocturne, Pt. 2 Overture, Pt. 3: Accelerando, Pt. 4: Toccata, Pt. 5: Poco a Poco

Chapter 6: Elegy

(Elegy: A piece of music in the form of a lament)

When you dream, you do not dream of being locked in a tower, awaiting a kindly knight to come save you. When you dream… you dream of your old home, infested with monsters, nearly unrecognizable. Of being forced to flee, leaving everything you loved behind. Of escaping to a remote, quaint little village, only to end up trapped once again, as friendly faces morph into gaping maws and fangs dripping red. When you dream, it is less a nightmare, more memories retouched, covered in a fresh coat of paint.

Waking up is but a brief source of comfort. One hand goes to your head, rubbing gently, as if you could wipe away all traces of your past. A quick glance around your shared room leaves you confused, but serves as a welcome distraction. Though there are six beds in the room, yours is the only occupied one, the others having all been vacated and made presentable. The only explanation that fit with what you knew was that everyone had gotten up, and gotten to work, without waking you. Panic filled you as you connected the dots, knowing that missing work was a death sentence.

Rushing, you rise to your feet, throwing your dresser open to search for fresh clothes. While the castle’s staff was almost entirely female, the Dimitrescu family didn’t enforce traditional gender presentation, allowing maidens to choose whether to wear a dress or a button-up and trousers. Remembering the wound on your neck, you pause, glancing in the dorm’s singular mirror to inspect your injury. Most of the blood had rubbed off in your sleep (and would likely be a nightmare to clean from the sheets). There were, however, a few spots where dried blood mingled with the protective scab. Considering how late you already were, you didn’t believe you would have time to clean up.

As much as you hated the thought, the best you could do was go for a button-up, hoping the collar would hide the worst of your disastrous appearance. Your hair was another matter entirely, far messier than it normally was, and you struggled to brush/comb it enough to be mildly presentable. Good thing Daniela won’t see me today, you think, remembering her insistence on skipping today’s lesson.

Then you remember the rest of your conversation with her; the yelling, being dragged to your feet, and the pain in her eyes. For a moment you feel woozy, pausing in the middle of buttoning your shirt. Your eyes focus on a spot on the now-closed dresser… and suddenly you wish you had paid more attention when you first woke up. There’s a note stuck to the furniture, clearly addressed to you.

Heard you had some trouble yesterday. We’re just glad you’re alive! A certain someone has been a lot nicer since you started playing the piano, and we’re grateful. To show that, we decided to split your morning duties among ourselves, so you can sleep in. If you’re reading this, then it’s still before 4 AM. Feel free to just relax for a while, or even get some more sleep! We’ll be by to make sure you’re up eventually.

Sincerely,

Daphne, Rosalia, Ygritte, Alexandra, Juniper, and Riley

“I… have… freetime?” You mumbled, still a little drowsy, but now also shocked. This was a complete first for you. Maybe even a first among the servants! Sure, you had been given breaks before, but having a couple hours to do whatever you wanted? No one had ever pulled strings like this for you before. It made your chest feel warm, and you just about forgot the whole mess with Daniela. “I’ll have to find a way to pay them back, even if they think they’re paying me back.” With that said you relaxed a little, no longer rushing getting dressed, though still leaving your neck the way it was. You figured you’d stop by one of the maidens’ restrooms before you officially started your shift.

In the meantime, you knew exactly what you’d be using this time for: finding those damn piano books you had been promised!

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

“Let’s see… dust, more dust, a dead spider, even more dust, and- oh shit, the spider is not dead,” you said, barely holding in a yelp as the arachnid scurries away from you. If you had known the attic would be so unclean, you might not have bothered to come up here. So far your targets had alluded you without giving so much as a hint towards their location. The library had seemed a likely location, but you had heard Daniela’s voice within, and anxiety had sent you dashing away. Up here, in an area clearly used for storage above all else, was the next best guess, as far as you were concerned. Still, you hadn’t seen anything worth your time yet.

Just insects, really. Not even terribly interesting ones. Well, there had been a shiny beetle of some sort, but it had crawled into a crack in the wall mere seconds after you saw it. Other than that, though, nothing but creepy crawlies. Creepy flyers?... Both, for sure. One fly in particular kept buzzing around you, weirdly interested in what you were doing.

Somehow you didn’t understand what that meant until a firm hand had wrapped itself around your neck. The grip was tight, putting more than enough pressure to make your vision blur. Thankfully, or perhaps unfortunately, the culprit didn’t intend to just choke you out. Instead they lift you and toss you aside- casually, at that. You hit the wall with a terrible crashing sound, certain to leave bruises, and narrowly avoid toppling into a stack of heavy crates. So much for enjoying some free time, you think. Stunned for several seconds, you find yourself left helpless as your attacker approaches.

“You’re not allowed to be up here,” a voice snarled, familiar enough to leave you terrified. Of course you had to run into the most violent of the Dimitrescu sisters. “Looking for a way out, hmm? Or are you stupid enough to think we’d leave a weapon where a wretched thing like you could find it?” Cassandra asked, pausing only to send a swift kick your way. A grunt escapes you, leaves you coughing, but it doesn’t hurt as bad as hitting the wall. Despite wanting to curl up and give in, you tried to drag yourself to your feet. Surprisingly, Cassandra makes no move to stop you, perhaps enjoying the sight of you struggling.

“Lady… Daniela… gave me permission,” you said between painful breaths. By the time you’re back on your feet, the vampire before you is watching you with narrowed, albeit curious, eyes. Normally it would take a lot of courage to face her. But you’re exhausted, in pain, and you’ve taken nearly as much hurt from someone who called themselves your lover. It’s not brave to stare down Cassandra, it’s foolhardy. It’s idiotic, really, and yet you find yourself unable to care. “I’m just looking for a couple piano books I’ve been told about, so I can use them to help teach Lady Daniela.”

“Oh? You’re her instructor?” Cassandra asked, a strange smile overtaking her expression. Something in the atmosphere has shifted, dangerously, but you can’t figure out why. Clueless to your self-betrayal, you nod in response. Instantly Cassandra’s smile turns into an open-lipped snarl, and she reaches out to grab you by the shirt, this time slamming you into the wall with her own hands. “Then you’re the reason she kept me up yesterday, crying non stop! I’m going to rip you apart, you vermin.”

The look in her eyes is, most definitely, the scariest thing you had ever seen. It’s feral, inhuman, and unstoppably determined. But when tears fall from your eyes, it’s not because you know you’re about to die. No, it’s because the last thing you think you’ll ever hear is the news that your partner had been sobbing for hours… and that you were the reason why. Your heart aches, both physically and emotionally, as you brace yourself for the bloody end.

Instead, the grip on your clothes loosens. You don’t dare open your eyes to see why.

“What the fuck do you want, sis?” Cassandra asked, sounding like she had turned her head away from you. Before you know it you’ve been let go, and you slide to the ground, too surprised to hold yourself steady. When you look up, you see an irritated Bela pulling Cassandra away from you, whispering something you can’t quite hear. They argue for a minute, under their breath, keen on keeping you out of the loop. Eventually the younger of the two storms away, but not before making a dent in the wall with her fist.

“What a child,” Bela said, rolling her eyes at the display. Then she’s walking back towards you, extending a hand in an offer of assistance (one you gladly accept). “That girl has the foresight of a magic eight ball, I swear. If she had actually killed you… ugh, I can hardly stand to imagine how inconsolable Daniela would become. Then I’d have two insufferable sisters. Regardless, do tell me why you thought it would be a good idea to come up here unaccompanied? It is normally off limits for servants, after all.”

“I-I, well… I mean, firstly thank you for saving me, I had no idea-” Bela holds a finger up in a ‘shut up’ motion, then puts it away as soon as you pause- “right, you don’t care. Look, I was just trying to find the piano books that Lady Dimitrescu mentioned, but I’ve looked all over and I can’t find them, so I should really just go,” you explain, eager to get out of the attic. To your surprise, Bela gives you an odd look before turning away. Then she takes no more than five steps, shifts to the side, and opens an old cabinet. Inside you can see a dozen books of sheet music, notably from several different decades, all worn but still in decent condition. “How did-?... I thought I checked there.”

“Well, you must have been distracted. Nonetheless, you know where they are now, and you owe me twice over. With that in mind… come with me. We have things to discuss,” Bela commanded, walking away before you could protest. All you can do is grab the sheet music, tuck it under one arm, and follow her to who-knows-where.

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

“I’ll have to have you make my tea more often,” Bela mused, letting the mug keep her hands warm. The two of you were sitting in some sort of study, a room that you had never been inside before. From what you could tell it belonged solely to the eldest Dimitrescu daughter. Inside were several shelves, each filled with well bookmarked collections, a desk next to a massive window, a couple simple chairs, and a few instrument cases. All in all it was an aesthetically pleasing room, organized but not exactly neat. You could certainly imagine Bela spending entire days in this chamber. “Now, why do you think I brought you here?” Her voice brings your focus back into the present moment, as well as sends a spike of anxiety through you.

“Based on what nearly got me killed earlier… Does it have to do with Daniela crying?” You asked, doing your best to indicate just how bad you felt about the subject. No matter how cruel she could be, you did honestly care about Daniela, and even wanted a real, healthy relationship with her. Desire, or willingness, wasn’t the root of the problem by any means. Something told you that Bela understood this, maybe even respected you for it.

“Guess there’s more in that pretty head of yours than air and symphonies, hmm?” Bela replied, laughing a little as she did. It was a far nicer sound than Cassandra’s maniacal giggling, for sure. “Now, I don’t know all the details about what happened- just that there was an argument, clearly a bad one, and Daniela barely made it through dinner before locking herself in her room. Luckily for you, our mother doesn’t seem to know about your little ‘fight’. She’s not sure what upset Dani, and I doubt my sister would tell her, so your secret is safe. Assuming that I blackmailed Cassandra well enough, that is. Anyway, I can’t help you, and by extension my sister, if I don’t know the full story. In case it wasn’t clear, that’s your cue to start talking.”

You’re surprised, admittedly, by a number of things. But Bela seems impatient, so you go over the details of the previous night with her, occasionally pausing to let her ask questions. The whole time her focus is on you, unwavering. There’s also a noticeable lack of judgement in her expression, even when you voice your regret about how you handled the situation, and what is there seems directed more towards Daniela than yourself. Once you finish, Bela releases a deep sigh. One of her hands goes to rub her forehead as if warding off a migraine.

“Well, I can’t say I’m terribly surprised, as much as I wish I could. Daniela’s always had her head in the clouds, and it’s left her tripping over her own feet more than once. Still, this is certainly one of her bigger messes…” Bela said, shaking her head in disbelief. “I’m going to have to talk to her about this, aren’t I? There’s no way she’s going to process this correctly on her own.” This time she seemed to be talking to herself, gaze locked on her tea as if it might suddenly offer to speak to Daniela in her place. When the tea stayed silent, understandably, she returned her focus to you. “You seemed upset, earlier, about this ridiculous situation. I am going to assume, from that, you are genuinely interested in my dear sister. Normally, this would be the part where I drain you of all blood, and possibly keep your skull as a memento... mori. Yours would look lovely on a window sill, I think.”

She pauses, head tilting a little to the side, clearly evaluating your artistic value.

“However, Daniela appears to care about you, far more than her usual fleeting infatuations. So, for now, I have decided not to eviscerate you, you’re welcome,” Bela cooed, teasingly, enjoying the way you shifted uncomfortably in your seat. Still, you were glad that you would apparently be surviving the day. “So I’m going to give you some advice, which you will take, and you won’t even owe me anything extra for this. Daniela is in love with the mere concept of love- and she has been for as long as I can remember. Romance novels are practically the only books she reads. It’s… embarrassing, truly. More than that, I get the impression that she couldn’t even begin to describe what love actually feels like. She’s digested so much of that written drivel that it warped her senses. Of course, the, ahem, situation we find ourselves in, here at the castle, has undoubtedly added to this effect.

“To get to the point, Daniela’s terribly, hopelessly clueless when it comes to things like what she wants from you. And so I take it upon myself, as her older sibling, to ensure that you understand. Moreso, that you are not dissuaded. If this is an actual chance for her to experience real romance, then it could make her happier than I’ve ever seen her,” Bela explained. The look in her eyes was incredibly soft, to the point where it made you realize just how much this odd little family cared for each other. “Don’t give up, don’t let her occasional infuriating antics push you away. Given enough time… I think the two of you could, I suppose, compliment each other quite nicely. But if you break her heart? I will pull yours from your chest and eat it raw. Understood?” Gulping, you nodded quickly, ignoring the feeling of heat rushing to your cheeks. It was one thing for Bela to want her sister to be happy, but another thing entirely for her to acknowledge your “suitability” for the position. “Good. Now return to whatever it is you maidens normally do. I have a sister to talk sense into.”

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

Hours later, you stand alone in a display room, dusting various relics from bygone times. A trophy here, a bizarre art piece there, strange, unlabeled tools you can’t quite imagine are for wine-making. It’s a fascinating collection, really. But your mind is focused on other, far softer things. All you can think about is what Bela had told you, about how Daniela really is interested in you, and how she thought the two of you could make it work. After the chaos earlier in the day, this was exactly what you needed. Just some time to yourself, working quietly, thoughts all to yourself. Even your bruises bother you less, the pain fading out into the background. Considering where you are, though, it is not at all surprising that your peace cannot last. As soon as you finish your task you move towards the exit.

The door swings open, outwards, at your touch, only to reveal a familiar figure reaching for the doorknob. Both of you gasp, taken by surprise, before your gazes meet. Of course it’s Daniela. Who else would you bump into right now?

“I thought about what you said,” she blurts, suddenly, eyes wide and hands shaking. “We need to talk, yeah?”

#daniela dimitrescu #daniela dimitrescu x reader #resident evil: village #re8 village #cliff hanger oops #had fun writing this one

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