#why is she where we stop. I mean I know why. but still.

[thedanishcatgirl]

The idea that their timid, little, shy, book loving, wizard had a wife was weird enough, but that wasn't the most surprising part. No, that was the fact, that the massive woman stepping through the selfmade entrance, whom presumably must be the aforementioned wife, was a tall fearsome looking fey. Her antlers where sharp, her body looked to be made of blackened branches covered in deadly looking thorns and her furious eyes glowed a fiery red like her hair.

Through the ringing in his ear the bard could faintly hear their wizard calling out to her wife.

"Careful darling we don't want the cage to fall down into the acid!"

The fay woman's only answer was a terrifying growl, but there was no more explosions. Not like that was needed anyway, since the floor was torn up, and massive thorny vines where rapidly growing out from the floor choking any still alive. She quickly walked over to them, took a hold of their cage, and swiftly yanked it free from the chain, then stomped out of the castle with their cage dangling from her hand. As they where carried away he saw the castle was quickly being overgrown with the vines, and he knew for certain that soon all that would be left was a crumbling ruin. This was gonna make one epic song.

Too terrified to speak he decided to shift his focus onto his party. Their wizard was looking concered up at her wife. Their sorcerer had passed out from either his injuries, or their terrifying rescurer. Their rouge was looking a bit too impressed, but then again, she was always addicted to danger. And their ever confident paladin, looked to be locked in a state of shock. He tried to get her to snap out of it, but she was completely unresponsive, so he tried his best to hum a little tune and heal their sorcerer. It wasn’t much, he was afterall not their main healer and not on his a game, but it was enough to get their sorcerer up. He was groggy and clearly still rough, but as soon as he noticed their surroundings, and who held their cage he panicked. Luckily he was out of spells, which rendered him pretty harmless, and a quick calm emotions stopped the worst of it.

"What is happening, where are we and who is THAT?!"

"Calm down she rescued us. Remember wizard said she messaged her wife to come save us? Well here she is I think she decided easiest way to get us all to a safer place was keeping us in the cage."

But their sorcerer just looked confused at him. Perhaps he hadn't fully registered the conversation before, which was certainly a possibility considering he was very hurt. That would mean he had no idea the woman who attacked the castle, and now held their cage was an ally, making this terrifying experience all the more scary. Worst of all their sorcerer was practically a teenager, and the easiest scared of their group, and this had been bad enough to leave their fearless paladin shocked. So he did what he had done so many nights and comforted their sorcerer.

"Shh it's all right we are safe she won't hurt us"

"It doesn't make sense, this isn't right, what are you talking about, wizard can't be married to an archfey, why would someone so powerful care about small insignificant mortals"

Archfey? Fuck he knew she was clearly powerful, but he hadn't realised just how much. But at soon as sorcerer said it, he knew it was true. Maybe paladin knew and at that was why she was so terrified. He didn't know much about archfey other than legends and songs, and those where always about how dangerous and fickle they where. How in all the hells did wizard get to call one her wife?

After a little bit they entered an ancient looking forest, and finally their wizard decided to speak.

"Sweetie, don't you think it's about time you put us down? We are in our forest now, nothing can hurt us here. We would all really love to get out of this stupid cage, and I definitely owe my friends some explanations. They can't really appreciate the beauty of our home like this, and I would hate their first impressions of it being bad."

Gently she sets the cage down, and shrinks to a still tall, but slightly more manageable, size.

"HOW MANY TIMES HAVE I WARNED YOU NOT TO GET OVER YOUR HEAD! You know I love you and support your little adventuring hobby, but you are so fragile, and I wish I could follow you, but my duties prevent that which means I can't protect you, and I hate that!"

Slowly their wizard limped over to her wife, seemingly not concerned at all about the thorns. Unfortunately that exposed just how badly injured she was, which her wife clearly only noticed now.

"HOW DARE THEY HURT YOU LIKE THAT! They did not deserve to die so mercifully!" It was followed by more curses in a language he didn't understand, but the intent was clear as day. The party was too preoccupied with trying not to think about what she considered doing, if that, was merciful in her eyes. It didn't matter what they had done to them, he was pretty sure those screams would haunt all their dreams, as long as they lived.

The wizard didn't look to be the least bit fazed, instead she gently caressed her furious wife, deftly avoiding the thorns.

"Shh it's all right darling, I'm safe now." She said followed by more reassurances, in what he suspected was the same language her wife had cursed in.

As the woman calmed down, they saw her body literally transform along with her mood. Slowly the fire in her hair diminished until it looked more like branches, her eyes changed into a piercing green, her wooden body became brown, the thorns receded and now she was just slightly taller than them. But while it was clear she was calmer now, that fire seemed to be just under the surface, like a forest that had just been ravaged by fire, and only needed a little spark to send it ablaze again.

"Why didn't you message me sooner?" She almost pleaded.

"I'm sorry, I thought we could escape on our own, and didn't want to worry you unless absolutely necessary." He can't help but notice the tears in her eyes. "Also kinda hoped that when I did introduce them to you, it would be a bit less terrifying." She adds with a tiny sliver of humour in her voice.

"Hmm I forgive you my foolish little flower." She says, as she touches her forehead to their wizard's. Apprapo flowers, he noticed that her hair has sprouted leaves and even a few flowers, and her body was being covered by moss and lichen. Hopefully that meant her mood has approved significantly.

Looking at their party he concluded that their sorcerer was hiding behind their rouge, who was trying their best to make him feel protected, and their paladin was still completely out of it, which it seemed their wizard had finally registered, but then again it was probably fair, that she had been to preoccupied with her wife.

"Darling do you think you could help her?" She asked to which her wife responded by gently touching her finger to their paladin and casting, what he recognised as a much stronger calm emotions than his. She wisely took a few steps back letting wizard stand in front as paladin slowly became more aware of her surroundings.

"Hey look at me we are safe now, there is nothing to worry about. There is no danger anymore I promise you."

"But but, that's, they they, danger I can't, I can't protect, I'm, I'm not even, He, you don't"

It was clear that while she was definitely calmer now, she was still very scared, which surprised him, because with the power of an archfey, she could easily have completely overpowered her fear. But perhaps she wasn't gonna just completely charm her wife's friend, which surely was a good sign.

"Shh shh it's alright, I know you're scared, I know you're all scared and we understand that. What just happened was very scary, and I know the reputation archfey have, but please just trust me when I say, that none of us are in any danger."

"You just say that because she has charmed you!" Sorcerer bravely answers.

"I don't think so," you counter. "Why not just charm all of us, or at least charm paladin, which she clearly didn't, since she is still scared. Why be so concerned with wizards safety, and so quick to forgive? I must admit I have no clue how in the hells it happened, but they clearly love each other very much, and she has been nothing but helpful, so I believe wizard when she says we are safe."

At that wizard smiles, clearly pleased she managed to convince someone.

"Maybe we could at least give them a chance. It's not like we have any way of escaping if she is messing with us," rouge tentatively says.

Sorcerer doesn't say anything, but at least he wasn't complaining or actively freaking out, witch admittedly was a pretty low bar, but considering the day they have had, was gonna have to be good enough.

Paladin looked to be very unsure, but maybe it was the calm emotions, maybe her desire to believe her friend, or maybe she was just too exhausted to do anything but listen.

"Well this is my wife Sevanonna. We have been together for almost 20 years, and I love her with all my heart, but despite all my books and her amazing company, I started to go a little stir crazy a while ago, and really missed adventuring, so after a lot of convincing and safety measures, like this ring I used to communicate with her, I left our home and soon found you guys." As soon as she stopped her nervous rant, her wife took over.

"Like you mortals say, if you love someone you let it go, and if they love you they will come back. Not that I ever worried that was the reason she wouldn't return."

"How in the hells did a shy timid little bookworm like you, snag someone so fiercely powerful?" asked rouge, voicing the question he had been too scared to ask.

"Oh she stumbled into my domain on accident in her ever growing search for knowledge, and she was just so sweet and kind and adorable, I couldn't find it within myself to punish her. I was curious and lonely, so we made a very simple deal. I would help her with gaining knowledge, if she would keep me company. As fun as messing with mortals can be, it doesn't keep me entertained for very long, and I don't particularly care for the company of my fellow archfey. We couldn't help but fall for each other, and by now that deal has been null and void for a very long time."

As she spoke, she looked at their wizard with such strong fondness it was impossible not to believe, and he already knew once he had pressed wizard for some more details, he was gonna create the most beautiful love ballad the world had ever seen out of this.

It seemed sorcerer and paladin had decided to very tentatively trust their story as well, or maybe just given up. Afterall they knew rouge was right. They didn't really have a choice.

"Well then show us to your home then. I'm dying to see what kind of fantastical place you live in, if this forest is anything to go by!" He decided to say as a way of lightning their spirits. Rouge ended up carrying sorcerer, who was too weak to do anything but curl up in her, thankfully deceptively strong, arms. And he supported paladin as they walked, to the best of his abilities. Sevanonna seemed to understand, that although she could definitely simply carry them all, it was better to not intervene.

Later that night, or perhaps it was technically the next day, he wasn't sure and didn't really care, he found himself alone with paladin. For while he wasn't the least bit surprised by sorcerer and rouge, palsdin's actions seemed wholly out of character, and he was determined to find out why.

"Hey you all right there?" Paladin turned to look at him with a panicked look for half a second, until it seemed like she remembered who he was. She must have been lost in her mind again.

"I'm, I'm fine." She said with a hint of her usual confidence, although it was clear she definitely wasn't.

"I know you are usually the one who does this, but if you wanna talk about it, I promise to lend an ear and not tell anyone." She looked like she was considering it. "Everyone needs someone to lean on, once in a while. You don't have to be our strong confident leader all the time. I'm pretty sure you would say something like that, if you where me." That last part at least managed to produce a tiny snort.

"I... my mother she, she made a deal with an archfey a long time ago. But she was tricked and understemated the price. She ... it took my youngest sister and when she tried to stop that she," at this point paladin broke down sobbing. He tried his best not to loose it at the sound that felt so wrong coming from her, and decided to rub circles on her back like she usually did. When that didn't help, he decided to stop being her and just do what he was best at, which was performing. So he summoned his dulcimer and started playing a comforting tune, and trying to do his best to put some sort of bardic magic into it.

"I was about the age of sorcerer, and suddenly I was the oldest in our little family. I had to be the responsible one, I had to protect us. That is why I devoted myself to my god, to make sure no chaotic or evil forces would ever mess with those I loved ever again. But not even the gods could stop them from deciding to start their own lives, once they got older. They moved on, and I didn't really fit into their lives anymore. I tried to devote myself even more, and create my own life too. And when I found you it felt like I had a family I could protect again. But I failed." And with that she collapsed and starting sobbing even harder than before. What she said made sense. She definitely was the mother of their group, not just because of her age, and a fiercely protective one at that. That was clearly something she had in common with their wizard's wife. And with that kind of tragic backstory, who could blame her. He could also see why she must have panicked like that when a threatening archfey suddenly appeared, and why she felt like she had failed in protecting them. She couldn't risk trusting that this wasn't some elaborate trick. He probably couldn't do anything about that, but he couldn't let her believe they saw her as a failure.

"No. You have not failed us. We are all still together, surely that counts for something? I can promise you if it wasn't for you, we would have all destroyed each other, or at the very least left. You have always been our glue, whether it was settling differences, or patching us up. You protected us all during that fight, and is the only reason sorcerer isn't dead now. But we are all adults here, or mostly, and you don't have to protect us all the time. Let us protect you too. We are a team, and that means we all have each other's backs. We are all here, we are safe, or at the very least not in active danger, we can rest and recover now, and afterwards we can talk about ensuring it doesn't get so bad again. But we are all alive, and if you hadn't been here, things would have gone so much worse, so cut yourself some slack alright?

"Hmm" was all he got from her before she fell asleep. It was good that she had relaxed enough to get some rest, he just had to hope she had heard his words, and taken them to heart.

An adventuring party is in a cage suspended over acid the wizard clears his throat "I just sent a message to my wife she should be here to save us soon." "Wait your married?" Said the rouge "more importantly what is she gonna." The paladin is interrupted by a massive explosion.

[leighsartworks216]

Birdcage

Sylus x gn!Reader

Sequel to My Pretty Bird

Fucking love Mephisto!Reader so much I love being a silly little bird in the arms of a big ol man

Warnings: angst, hurt/comfort, kidnapping, swearing, smoking, rescue

Word Count: 1,234

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You squawk and screech and make all sorts of sounds. Your wings beat relentlessly against steel bars, padlocked firmly shut. A man hits the cage with the butt of his gun. It swings back and forth, knocking you off balance.

"And why can we just shoot this damn thing?" the man asks. He glares at you. You stare right back, cawing indignantly in his face. He hits the cage again. "It's so fucking annoying!"

Another man in the room laughs. Smoke sifts through his teeth, drifting lazily through the air. "Don't tell me you're gonna let a bird get under your skin."

The first man covers your cage with a heavy cloth. It doesn't do much to quiet you and you beat more defiantly against the bars, but at least he doesn't have to look at you.

"Crows are smart birds, you know. You give them an inch, they'll take a mile," the smoker says. "It probably likes annoying you cuz you're making such a fuss."

"It doesn't annoy you?"

"Hmph. I have three sisters - I'm used to it."

The dark doesn't mean much when you have night vision, but night vision doesn't mean much when there's nothing to look at. Everywhere you turn: bars and nothing beyond. And there's nothing you can do on your own to get out of it. Code-based locks are easy enough to break, but a key-lock? You're shit out of luck. Still, you peck at it restlessly, without thought of if it would work or not.

You sent out the beacon a while ago. Sylus still isn't here. Unsurprising, given he was all the way in Linkon and you're halfway across the N109 Zone in some other fool's territory (intel-hunting, as it were). From what you gather, they have no idea who you belong to. The idea that the leader of Onychinus could come here is an utter impossibility in their minds. You just hope he'll be here soon.

You hear the click of a door opening and heavy boots entering the room. "I didn't even need to ask for directions," a new voice jokes, "I could hear it all the way in my lab."

Lab?

"Thank fuck you're here, doc. It's giving me a headache. Can't you shut it up?"

"Without damaging it," the smoker reminds them. "The boss wants to know how it's built."

The new person laughs. You try clawing through the bars at the cloth, with no luck. That voice, that laugh - it unsettles you.

"If what you described is true, I'd hate to damage it." The heavy boots walk closer. "Can I...?"

The first man hmphs. "Go ahead, doc, I won't stop ya."

The cloth is removed without ceremony. A face stares at you through the bars. A gaunt woman with an unsettlingly wide smile, eyes obscured by thick goggles. She gasps in pleasant surprise as she sees you.

You scream in her face, flap futilely in your little cage to try getting away. It's the only thought you have - you have to get away.

She chuckles lowly. "You're still as spirited as ever, I see."

The jagged, jolting sound of electricity registers milliseconds before it touches the cage. It travels through the path of least resistance: from the taser she holds, through the steel bars of the cage, and into you. The best way to describe the sensation is like waking up from anesthesia, except the "waking up" comes from your synthetic heart and mind being temporarily stopped. Your wings feel numb and uncoordinated. You can't stand, falling weakly to the cage floor. Your eyes see, but nothing processes.

She hums, satisfied. "Where did you say you found it?" she asks the men.

The smoker is the one to answer. The first man is too busy staring with gleaming eyes at your new silence. "It was slinking around the market. Don't know what for yet."

"Probably just looking for something shiny to bring back home." She pokes your body through the bars. You jolt away, tripping over your own feet in the process, feathers on end. "Isn't that right? Where do you consider home now, I wonder."

"Doctor?" the smoker interrupts. "Have you met it before?"

She giggles, louder as you manage to make a pitiful sort of sound. "I was there when they created it. I even helped out here and there. It's a remarkable piece of technology, but it's incredibly difficult - if not impossible - to reproduce."

"It's a machine, right? Can't you just wipe its memory, like a computer?" the first man asks.

"I'd hate to erase so much valuable data." She pushes the cage, stepping away as you go round and round. Your head spins. You squawk indignantly. "Where's your boss? I need to discuss price-"

The door clicks open again. She gawks up at the man who enters. His red eyes glare intensely into her.

It's a mess, after that. You manage to face the action, trying to record it to rewatch later, but actually keeping up with it in the moment is tricky.

From what you do pick up on, the two men opened fire on the intruder. Sylus's Evol was able to stop some of the bullets, too worn and weary to have any chance of catching them all. One hits his shoulder, distracting him just long enough from the doctor. There one moment, she seems to disappear the next. She's not gone - not at first. But Sylus is shoved aside in his moment of weakness and the door swings loose on its hinges, her heavy boots receding into the distance beneath the crossfire.

Two quick shots from a pistol end the fight.

He grunts, holding his shoulder as he looks down the hall. You don't know if he would have chased after her. That's a question that won't be answered perhaps for a lifetime, because your soft cawing draws him back to you.

Tucking his gun into its holster, he crosses the room to you. You stumble and trip trying to stand on your feet to meet him. Despite the situation, his lips curve into a slight grin, glad to see you again and with your same persistence.

The padlock clicks open. You nearly fall through the door and to the ground in your excitement, but he catches you, holding you securely against his chest. The blood on his hand stains your feathers. You start emitting a strange sort of purr, picking at his hand in an odd form of preening.

"What did she do to you, hm?" He idly scratches under your chin as he steps over an outstretched arm and into the hallway. He looks down the way, seeking any traces of the woman left behind without any luck. It aches deep within, reignites a fire that never truly went out, as he turns and heads for the back exit he came in through. "Sleep. I'll wake you when we're back home."

You nibble at a callous on his finger. He truly thinks you'll be a stubborn little thing and refuse, staying awake until he gets you home where he can get you fixed up. Fortunately, you relent. You tuck your beak into his hand, hiding away from the world. It's not long after that your feathers fluff slightly and you fall asleep in his arms.

He'll find that bastard one day. And he'll make her pay for everything she did to you.

---

Tag List:

@the-golden-jhope @armycaratlover @sylusfluffymeow @cheesemachine44 @nyx2021 @angel-jupiter @thelittlebutton @pikachuzhc @pomegranatepip @cordidy @an-ever-angry-bi @thejysemongko @deusfoundry @that-lost-one @always-just-red

[rafesbuzzcutseason]

chasing city lights

chapter 9 - cute note

synopsis: you move to new york to start fresh, hoping to find comfort in the city’s atmosphere. that’s when you meet sarah cameron, where she takes you to a concert and you catch sight of the lead band member, rafe cameron. it only takes a moment for you to realize you’re captivated by him. as sarah helps you navigate your new life in the city, you start to get pulled deeper into rafe's world—the music, the fame, the chaos. the more you get to know him, the more you realise that rafe is not just the rock star he seems to be. he’s wrestling with his own demons, and the last thing he needs is someone like you getting close.

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cw: language

✧˖ °. ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ . ݁‧₊˚ ☾. ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ . ݁˖°✧

you and the girls were huddled on sarah's bed as you debriefed the night before, it still not processing with you.

"i mean we left you for 5 SECONDS and i turned around and you two were eating each other" kie laughed

"no like seriously i thought we were gonna have to push harder for project city but it seems you didn't need our help after all." cleo joined in the laughter.

"guys i don't even know like i'm still in shock." you said.

"well was it a good kiss...?" sarah questioined.

"maybe the best i've ever had," you blushed. "but i'm nervous to see him next like what happens now."

"well you have his number," kie started "and you also don't have long because we're actually about to meet them all for lunch!"

"you're fucking joking." you muttered.

"nope!" sarah chimed in. "so let's get you ready."

after a quick outfit change, you left your room to meet the boys downstairs to have a walk around LA and grab some lunch.

you nervously waited for them to appear, but they finally did, rafe leading the group.

he smirked at you as he came to say hi, pulling you into a hug to whisper in your ear "cute note."

your cheeks went red while you pushed him away, turning to jj to say hi to him too.

"good night?" he winked at you.

"shut up jj." you laughed, as john b and pope also bought you into a hug.

"seems like someone had fun." john b laughed with you, and rafe just stood back with his stupid grin on his face, but no sense of shame.

topper however gave you a little disheartened wave, and your stomach dropped slightly, knowing he was probably upset that it wasn't him.

"ready to go?" sarah interrupted much to your happiness.

"yeah let's" cleo replied, now holding hands with pope.

the group made their way down the steps of the hotel, the chatter flowing easily now that everyone was outside and on their way to the street.

you caught jj glancing between you and rafe, his eyebrow raised playfully, before he bumped your shoulder with his. “so, how was last night?” he asked with a grin.

you rolled your eyes. ���you’re ridiculous.”

"no i'm serious. i want to know. it's been a long time coming." he was speaking in a hushed voice to avoid rafe's ears.

"what do you mean?" you asked.

"he's been talking about you non stop since he met you. like the dressing room chat before shows has been exhausting." he sighed.

"really? then why did it take so long for him to make a move?"

"because you're mysterious at showing how you feel. plus your sarah's friend and he's always been told to stay away."

"but he didn't stay away from me?" you said.

"i don't think he could even if he tried." and with that, jj joined the rest of the group.

rafe then fell in step next to you, his pace slower than the others as he leaned in, his voice low. “are you avoiding me?” he asked with a playful tone.

you shook your head, “now why would i do that?" you replied.

"thought you'd been freaked out by last night." he replied softly, with a hint of fear in his words.

"i would never," you reassured him. "just trying to figure it out."

"figure what out?" he smirked.

you looked at him with sarcastic eyes, shaking your head.

rafe's eyes softened, his eyes meeting yours with intensity “don’t worry,” he said, “i’m figuring it out too.”

his hand brushed against yours, just barely, but it was enough for the electric connection to spark again, making your heart race. you could feel his gaze on you, but when you looked up at him, he was already looking ahead, as if he hadn't done anything at all.

you both fell into step with the others again, the easy banter resuming, but you couldn't shake the feeling that everything had just shifted—and you weren’t sure whether to lean into it or hold back.

✧˖ °. ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ . ݁‧₊˚ ☾. ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ . ݁˖°✧

a/n: happy friday guys!! was struggling on how to approach the morning after so i hope this is ok

taglist: @hoefordrewstarkey @marleymarleymarleymarley @bee-43 @cherryhoneybabe @skye-44 @drewrry @drewrry  @yesterdaysproblemm @pogueprincesa @dylsdaily @rafeysworldim19 @valyrianflower @kaiparkerwifes @judesgfirl @4urvalidation @chillgal135 @drewstarkeyslover @yesshewrites1

i will be taking people off taglist if that don't interact! just as more people want to be added and need to make it fair<3

[thedemoninme141]

The Maiden Of Death Part 3

Pairings: Wednesday x Female reader. Wordcount: 9K-ish

Part 1 -- Part 2-- Part 3

Summary: Wednesday finally gets a glimpse of your power.

Warnings: Wednesday starting to fall? JelousWednesday! Everyone loves Enid.

(Author's note: This is a very long chapter, and ALOT OF THINGS happens in this chapter, and also had to change some things here and there which is why it took me a lot of thinking and time writing, so any feedback will be helpful!)

As Wednesday entered the quad during Lunch period, her gaze immediately fell on her usual table, where Enid was enthusiastically gesturing as she spoke to—you.

Eugene sat on one corner of the table, Enid said something particularly exuberant, causing you to stiffen visibly. Eugene, in turn, shot Enid a panicked look that screamed, Please stop talking before you get us all killed.

As Wednesday reached the table and took her seat across from you without a word, her gaze landing on Enid, who greeted her with a wide smile.

“Hey, Wednesday! Guess what?!” Enid began, her excitement practically vibrating off her.

“I would rather not,” Wednesday replied flatly.

Enid turned her attention back to you. “So, like I was saying, the Poe Cup is coming up, and I’ve been thinking—Last year we barely won but it’s time we totally crush Bianca’s team this year. And you, Y/N, would be perfect for—”

You didn’t bother looking up from your plate. “No.”

“You didn’t even let me finish!” Enid said, huffing dramatically but quickly recovering with a smile. “Okay, but seriously, you’d be perfect. We need someone like you—someone who can strategize and, you know, scare people."

“I don’t care.” Your tone was sharp enough to cut, but Enid either didn’t notice or chose to ignore it.

“Come on! You and Wednesday on the same team would be unstoppable! Seriously, we could destroy Bianca. She wouldn’t stand a chance!” Enid leaned closer to you, her smile widening as if sheer enthusiasm could wear down your resistance.

“Let me clarify,” you said, your focus still on your plate. “No. As in, absolutely not. As in, I’d rather eat broken glass than subject myself to whatever nonsense you have planned.”

Eugene shifted uncomfortably in his seat, darting a glance between you and Enid like he was bracing for an explosion.

“That was a bit harsh, But I promise you’re gonna love it once you try it!” Enid barreled on, her voice impossibly cheerful. “And imagine—Wednesday and Y/N! You’d wipe the floor with everyone.”

You set your utensils down with a quiet clink, turning to Enid with a gaze sharp enough to cut glass. “Do you ever stop to think before you speak?” you asked coldly, your tone a knife's edge. “Or is it your entire personality to be this relentlessly irritating?”

Enid blinked, her smile faltering for just a moment before she recovered. “Wow, okay, someone’s cranky. But I get it! You’re under a lot of pressure or whatever.”

“Pressure has nothing to do with it,” you replied, your tone colder still. “You’re insufferable. You don’t listen, you don’t think, and you certainly don’t understand the concept of personal boundaries. Take a hint: I’m not interested in whatever childish game you’re dragging me into.”

Enid’s bright demeanor faltered, her smile slowly dying... The table fell silent. Even Wednesday, who often found Enid’s enthusiasm grating, felt an unexpected pang at the harshness of your words.

But Enid didn’t retreat. Instead, she tilted her head as she unleashed her ultimate weapon.

The puppy eyes.

“Well,” Enid said after a beat, her voice quieter and sadder. “That’s a really mean thing to say. But I’m not giving up. Because deep down, I think you’re not as awful as you want people to think.”

You stared at her, unblinking, as though calculating the odds of her ever leaving you alone. Wednesday found herself watching the exchange with acute interest, her gaze flicking between you and Enid.

Wednesday stiffened. Even she wasn’t immune to Enid’s maddeningly effective weapon. She braced herself for your response, curious to see if you’d succumb.

You let out a tired sigh. “Fine,” you said at last, your voice heavy with exasperation. “I’ll join your team. Just stop talking so I can eat in peace.”

Enid let out an excited squeal and, before you could react, threw her arms around you in a side hug. You froze completely, your body going rigid as though you’d been petrified on the spot.

Wednesday felt something shift in her chest—a faint, unpleasant pang that she quickly dismissed as indigestion. Her fingers tightened around her fork as she watched Enid cling to you, her head resting against your shoulder...

You didn’t push her away, but your voice was low and measured as you began counting down. “Three… two…”

Enid immediately released you, sitting back with an apologetic smile. “Sorry, sorry! I just got excited. Thank you so much for agreeing, though! You won’t regret it, I promise!”

"I already do." You muttered, returning your attention to your plate with the same calm indifference you always exuded. But Wednesday caught the faintest flicker of something in your eyes—a weariness, perhaps, or a resignation you couldn’t quite mask.

Enid, oblivious as ever, turned her attention back to Wednesday. “Isn’t this great, Wens? With Y/N on our team, we’re totally going to win this year!”

Wednesday didn’t reply immediately. Instead, she studied you for a moment longer, her mind churning with thoughts she couldn’t fully articulate. Finally, she turned back to her own meal.

"We will see." She said, still feeling something unrecognizable. Whatever it was, she would not allow it to distract her. Not now, not tonight. Behind the greenhouse. After the sun falls. You had given her a directive, and she intended to follow it, not out of curiosity, of course, but because she refused to let you maintain the upper hand.

After the rest of the classes ended, Wednesday found herself in a disconcerting state of reflection. The day's events gnawed at her, though she maintained her usual stoic demeanor. Your words echoed in her mind, sharp and cutting, like the blade you so clearly wielded with mastery.

"You’re not worth wasting my time."

Though she would never admit it aloud, those words struck her. A part of her dismissed them—what could you possibly know of her worth? But another part, the one she rarely let surface, couldn’t help but dwell on the sting.

Wednesday Addams had faced monsters, both literal and metaphorical, yet here she was, feeling... unsettled. Not afraid. No, Wednesday Addams was never afraid. But the thought of meeting you, alone, made her feel something she couldn't entirely recognize.

She briefly considered informing Enid of her impending meeting with you. Not out of fear, of course. Fear was an emotion beneath her. It was a matter of logic, of ensuring someone knew her whereabouts. But as soon as the idea formed, she discarded it. No, involving Enid would complicate matters, and the thought of explaining herself to her overenthusiastic roommate was unbearable.

Instead, she opted for a more discreet confidant.

“You’re to keep an eye on the time,” she instructed Thing, her voice even but firm. “If I’m not back by ten, assume the worst.”

Thing’s fingers scrambled into a questioning gesture.

“Do not be ridiculous,” she snapped, rolling her eyes. “I am not afraid. Merely cautious.”

Thing’s tapping turned into a sarcastic drumroll, but Wednesday ignored him, brushing past to retrieve her coat.

The path to the greenhouse was empty, obviously no one would be out here at this time.

As she rounded the corner, she spotted you immediately. You were seated on the ground, your back against the glass wall of the greenhouse. A katana rested beside you, the blade gleaming faintly in the dimming light.

Did you summon it? Wednesday wondered.

You looked up as she approached, your gaze steady and unreadable. “You’re on time.”

Wednesday ignored the comment, her eyes flicking to the katana. “Are you finally going to show me?”

"Katana techniques aren’t something you can master by watching. It requires precision and patience, I know you fought some old wizard, but I highly doubt that would be enough."

Wednesday’s expression hardened. "That 'old wizard' was Crackstone."

“And?” Your tone was flat, unimpressed, as if the name meant nothing.

Wednesday rolled her eyes. “Fine. We’ll do it your way. What do I need to do first?”

You reached down and picked up the katana beside you, holding it out for her. Wednesday accepted the sword with both hands, one curling around the scabber and the other around the handle. It was heavier than she expected—not unmanageable, but noticeable. Still, she adjusted quickly, refusing to let any hesitation show.

She stood, focusing on the sword, attempting to summon a vision. She hoped for even a glimpse of your history, your purpose, your motives. Nothing. The blade remained silent in her hands, its secrets as tightly guarded as yours.

Her reverie was broken by your voice. “Do you know how to unsheathe it without losing your fingers?”

Wednesday met your gaze, her tone sharp. “Of course. Just because I haven’t fought with a katana doesn’t mean I’m ignorant of its basics.” She demonstrated, flawlessly unsheathing the sword with a precise motion.

For a moment, she paused, her gaze lingering on the blade. Its sharp edge felt almost hypnotic.

“Now sheathe it again,” you instructed.

Wednesday hesitated, the command catching her off guard. “I just took it out,” she muttered annoyed.

Still, she attempted to comply, but the process proved unexpectedly awkward. She struggled to align the blade with the scabbard, her movements uncharacteristically clumsy. She half-expected you to smirk or make a biting comment, but your expression remained impassive, devoid of mockery.

Instead, you conjured your own katana, the same one she had seen in the Nightshade Library, and unsheathed it with effortless grace. “Watch,” you said simply. With practiced ease, you demonstrated the technique for resheathing the sword, pushing the scabbard forward while maintaining balance.

Wednesday observed intently, her sharp mind immediately grasping the mechanics. “I see,” she murmured, attempting the motion again. This time, her execution was far smoother, and the blade slid into place with satisfying precision.

“Good,” you said, your voice still emotionless.

From there, the lesson progressed. You guided her through a series of foundational techniques, demonstrating precise footwork and the fluidity required to wield the katana effectively. Your movements were deliberate, almost mesmerizing in their precision, and Wednesday found herself silently admiring your mastery. She didn’t smile. She didn’t laugh. But she felt something.... something she felt while grave digging... is this what Enid called... "fun"?

Still, she kept her expression neutral, unwilling to give you the satisfaction of knowing she was... pleased by this... would you even care if you knew?

By the end, her muscles ached pleasantly, but her mind was sharper than ever. She sheathed the katana with practiced ease, turning to you as you prepared to leave.

“Here,” she said, holding out the weapon.

You took it, and as soon as it was in your hands, both katanas vanished into thin air. Wednesday’s eyes narrowed slightly, but she said nothing.

As you turned to leave without any , she felt a sudden, inexplicable pang of dissatisfaction. This wasn’t enough. Before she could stop herself, she blurted out, “Wait.”

You paused, glancing back over your shoulder. “What is it?”

She struggled for a moment, the words eluding her. Finally, she asked, “Why did you agree to show me these techniques?”

You didn’t answer immediately. Instead, you looked at her with that same unreadable expression. “Goodnight, Wednesday,” you said, your voice softer than she expected.

You turned and walked away, leaving her standing there, her mind a whirlwind of thoughts. It wasn’t until you had disappeared into the shadows that she realized something—this was the first time you had used her name. And for reasons she couldn’t fully explain, it mattered.

As Wednesday pushed open the door to her shared dorm, her eyes went to Enid sprawled across her bed as she animatedly whispered to Thing, who was perched on her pillow like her sidekick.

As she stepped further into the room, she felt Enid’s gaze snap to her. It tracked her every step, as though waiting for some kind of confirmation.

“What?” Wednesday snapped, her tone as sharp as a blade.

Enid sat up, crossing her legs and hugging a pillow to her chest, a smug little smile spreading across her face. “Nothing,” she replied, her tone far too innocent to be genuine. “Absolutely nothing.”

Wednesday narrowed her eyes, peeling off her coat and hanging it neatly on its hook. “You’re staring at me."

Enid gasped, her hand flying to her chest in mock offense. “Staring? Me? No! I’m just... thinking."

"Thinking what, exactly?”

“Oh, I don’t know,” Enid drawled, leaning forward with a grin that only grew wider with each passing second. “Maybe observing how you’ve been spending an unusual amount of time with a certain someone lately?”

Wednesday stiffened, her fingers pausing mid-motion as she adjusted the lace cuffs of her shirt. “I have no idea what you’re babbling about.”

“Sure you don’t,” Enid said with a giggle, hugging the pillow tighter.

“Choose your next words carefully, Enid.”

“What were you doing with Y/N?” Enid sat up straighter, her eyes practically sparkling with curiosity.

Wednesday’s brow twitched. “That is none of your concern.”

“See, now you’re making it sound suspicious,” Enid teased, her grin widening. “Were you two, like, out in the woods doing something spooky? Summoning ghosts? Practicing dark magic? Or was it something more... romantic?”

Wednesday’s glare deepened. “Romantic?” she repeated, “Do you genuinely believe I would waste my time on such frivolity?”

“Well, I mean,” Enid said, tapping her chin thoughtfully, “you do waste your time digging up graves"

Wednesday ignored her as she walked out to the balcony. She needed air. She needed quiet. She needed to expel whatever it was that Enid’s incessant prattling had stirred within her.

The cello waited in its usual spot.

Without hesitation, Wednesday settled into her chair, the bow fitting naturally into her hand. She began to play.

The bartender wiped down the counter with practiced ease. His face was friendly, his demeanor warm as he smiled at the hooded girl sitting before him.

“Yeah, I get it,” he said, his tone easy and warm. “Sometimes we need some alone time away from family.”

The customer remained silent, her head tilted downward.

As Wednesday’s fingers danced over the cello strings, her mind drifted. She hadn’t meant to think of you, but it was impossible not to. The memory of your eyes, a depth that hid so much.

Why did you haunt her so? There was a quiet pain in your gaze, a barrier that dared anyone to come closer. What had happened to you? What had made you so guarded, so indifferent to the world?

The bartender smiled as he wiped a glass, his voice light. “You know, I love my family too. Even when they drive me insane.” He chuckled, setting the glass down. “Wouldn’t trade them for the world.”

Wednesday’s music swelled again, the melody turning wistful. How could she know more about you? Was it even possible?

The bartender glanced around the empty bar, shrugging. “It’s pretty quiet here this time of night. Honestly, I feel more like I’m on guard duty than actually working. Not that I’m complaining—it’s nice to have a slow shift every now and then.”

Wednesday’s bow trembled slightly, though her playing remained flawless. Her thoughts shifted, unwillingly, to you again. She couldn’t shake the questions that gnawed at her. Your precision, your coldness, the way you had spoken to her and yet spared her just enough... that made her understand, there was more to you than you allowed anyone to see.

The bartender leaned closer, his elbows on the counter. “Yeah, no, I get it totally. We all make mistakes. We’re human at the end of the day.”

The customer let out a low chuckle that seemed to echo unnaturally in the small space. It sent an involuntary shiver down the bartender’s spine.

“Are you?” the customer asked, her voice smooth yet chilling.

The bartender blinked, caught off guard. “What?”

The customer slid a card across the counter. His breath hitched the moment his eyes landed on it.

“Are you human?” she repeated, her tone dangerously calm.

As the final note hung in the air, fading into the night, she exhaled slowly, setting the bow down with measured care. The music hadn’t helped as much as she’d hoped. The unease was still there, coiled in her chest, lingering like a shadow that refused to leave.

Still, one thing was clear. Whatever this was, whatever you were, it wasn’t over.

Finally, she set the cello aside, her movements slower than usual, weighed down by an exhaustion she couldn’t name.

When sleep finally claimed her, it brought something.

Fire. It was everywhere.

And Wednesday was standing right where she fought Crackstone last year.

Enid’s scream, filled with desperation. “Y/N, no!”

The flames seemed to dance around you, as if you were their master rather than their victim. For a moment, you turned your gaze toward her, your eyes, darker... souless.. and then you nodded at Wednesday... as if.. thanking her.

"I know what I have to do now." you said.

The scene shattered like glass, and Wednesday jolted awake, her chest heaving as she sat up in bed. The room was still dark, the faint light of dawn just beginning to creep through the window.

Her fingers curled into the sheets as she struggled to steady her breathing. Dreams were not foreign to her, but this... this was different. It had felt too vivid, too real.

Was it a vision? No. Her visions came with a sharp, distinct pain, an undeniable clarity that marked them as something more than mere dreams. But this... it was murky, fragmented, like a puzzle with too many missing pieces.

She exhaled quietly, watching as the darkness outside softened with the rising sun. What were you? That question gnawed at her, more relentless than any puzzle she’d faced before. You didn’t fit neatly into any category of person she’d encountered. Why did her mind seem so determined to orbit around you?

Wednesday despised the thought of being consumed by anyone or anything, yet here she was, watching the sun rise while her thoughts were plagued by you.

She rose from her bed without making a sound and slipped into her black uniform.

Enid stirred in her bed, her sleepy form stretching lazily beneath her colorful blankets.

“Morning, Wends,” she mumbled.

Wednesday grabbed her coat and headed for the door without sparing her roommate a glance. The door clicked shut behind her before Enid could say anything more.

By the time she reached the quad, the space was still empty. Most students were still tucked away in their dorms, waiting for the breakfast bell to draw them out.

But her eyes found you.

You were sitting beneath a large tree at the far end of the quad, your back against the trunk, your eyes were closed, your features relaxed in a way she had never seen before. You seemed... at peace? It was unsettling to see you like this, so different from the guarded, vigilant person she’d encountered before. This version of you felt unfamiliar, almost vulnerable.

For a moment, she hesitated, her boots rooted to the ground as she watched you from afar. Why was she hesitating? Wednesday Addams didn’t hesitate. She was decisive, certain, unflinching. Yet here she was, caught in some inexplicable limbo. It infuriated her.

Finally, she forced herself to step forward. Each step felt heavier than it should, as though an invisible force was pulling her back. By the time she was only a few steps away from you, your eyes opened.

You looked directly at her.

Wednesday froze. The intensity of your gaze was unsettling, not because it was intimidating, but because it was so direct, so unflinching. For a moment, neither of you spoke, the silence stretching taut between you.

“Why are you here?” you asked, your voice low and even.

Wednesday blinked, her composure snapping back into place like a well-worn mask. “I could ask you the same question.”

You regarded her for a moment, then shifted slightly against the tree. “Resting,” you said simply. “Breakfast isn’t ready yet.”

Wednesday tilted her head. “And I suppose you decided that lying on cold earth was preferable to staying in your dorm?”

You shrugged. “It’s quiet.”

Wednesday didn’t have a retort for that. She understood the value of silence more than anyone.

You studied her now, and she hated the way it made her feel. Like you were seeing something she hadn’t meant to show. “You don’t seem like the morning exercise type,” you finally said.

“I woke up early,” was all Wednesday offered.

You didn’t question it. You didn’t push. You didn’t even invite her to sit, which was something she had somehow expected.

She frowned at herself. Why did she expect that? You weren’t the kind of person who invited anyone to sit beside you, and Wednesday certainly wasn’t someone you would extend such an offer to. She wasn’t special in your eyes, nor should she be.

The realization irritated her more than it should have.

The silence between you stretched, not awkward but Wednesday won't call it comfortable either. “Do you want to spar today?” she asked.

You blinked at her, then nodded.

She almost wished you had asked why. Maybe then she could figure out the answer herself.

Her mind drifted back to the dream. You had always been dark, just like her. But in the dream, it was different. You were worse. Your eyes weren’t yours.

She exhaled, not realizing she had until the sound broke the quiet.

You noticed immediately, your brow furrowing as you turned back to her.

“Something on your mind?” you asked, your tone cautious.

Wednesday straightened, her mind scrambling for a response. She couldn’t tell you about the dream, not yet. She needed more time to understand it herself. Instead, she blurted out the first thing that came to mind.

“Poe Cup.”

You frowned, tilting your head slightly. “What about it?”

“Since you and I are on the same team, I thought you should know more about it,” she said, her tone matter-of-fact.

You raised an eyebrow, clearly skeptical. “It’s a simple boat race that lacks bound rules to keep the students from harming each other. That’s all I need to know. Works fine for me.”

Wednesday smirked, a small, fleeting expression that you might have missed if you hadn’t been paying attention. You had no idea about the costumes. The mandatory, humiliating black cat ensemble that had tortured her the first time she’d participated. It was only fair that you endured the same indignity. She decided then and there not to tell you about it. Let it be a surprise.

The quad was beginning to fill now, “You should join me for breakfast.”

You raised a brow at her.

She added, “Enid will drag you there anyway. It will save you the effort.”

You rolled your eyes but didn’t argue, following her as the two of you made your way toward the dining hall.

And Wednesday, for reasons she refused to name, felt a little more at ease.

Wednesday had expected you to leave.

As she sat on the bench, you settled across from her, your posture as composed as ever, shoulders relaxed but gaze sharp, always aware. She observed you from the corner of her eye, waiting for that moment where you'd inevitably get up, bored of the company. But you didn’t move.

You stayed.

That was new.

"Oh my god!" Enid's half yell pulled Wednesday from her thoughts.

“You’re sitting here willingly,” Enid launched herself to the seat beside you, grinning wide as she nudged your arm. “By yourself. No threats, no bribery, no blackmail—at least, I don’t think Wednesday blackmailed you. That’s progress, right?”

You merely hummed, not confirming nor denying anything.

Enid let out a dramatic gasp. “That was almost a response. Oh, we are making so much progress.”

Wednesday rolled her eyes. “Must you be so insufferable this early in every morning?”

“Oh, absolutely,” Enid shot back, flashing her a grin before turning her attention back to you. “You should sit with us more often. Now that we are a team!"

Before you could respond—not that you looked like you were going to—another voice cut in.

Bianca.

“So this is where the brooding duo gathers now?” she said, arching an eyebrow.

Enid turned to her, smirking. “Oh, come on, B. You’re just mad because Y/N’s on my team. You’re so screwed.”

Wednesday caught the way Bianca’s eyes narrowed, assessing. You, however, didn’t even acknowledge her. Not a glance. Not a shift in posture. Nothing. Bianca didn’t seem sure whether to be annoyed or impressed.

“Huh,” she muttered, tilting her head. “Guess it’ll be fun to have a challenge for once.”

Wednesday smirked, her voice dry as she leaned forward just slightly. “And lose badly again?”

Bianca shot her a glare, but before she could retort, another voice joined the conversation.

Xavier.

“Uh… morning,” Xavier said, rubbing the back of his neck. His gaze flickered to you, but you still didn’t acknowledge him. He swallowed. “Mind if I join?”

“You’re asking that after joining in without permission,” Wednesday said flatly.

Xavier hesitated, then sat beside Bianca, opposite Enid. He looked like he wanted to say something to you but wisely decided against it.

Understandable. He was still shaken after whatever had happened during his last encounter with you.

Then came Eugene, who looked like he regretted his decision the moment he saw how crowded it had become—especially when his eyes landed on you.

He hesitated, clearly debating whether he should turn back. He probably would have, had Enid not noticed him first.

“Eugene!” she called out, “Come sit!”

“Shit,” he muttered under his breath before reluctantly shuffling over.

And to make matters worse—for him, at least—the only available seat was right beside Wednesday. Which, unfortunately, placed him directly across from you. He slid into the empty spot, making sure to position himself as far from you as possible.

Trying to lighten the mood, Xavier leaned forward, his attention shifting to you.

“So, Y/N,” he started, flashing a small grin. “We barely know anything about you. What’s your deal? Hobbies? Interests? Are you into art? Music?”

You said nothing.

Xavier tried again. “Come on, there’s gotta be something that gets you to loosen up a little.”

Silence.

Wednesday saw it then—the faintest flicker of amusement in your eyes, but it was at Xavier’s expense. You weren’t entertained by his charm. You were entertained by his failure.

Enid snickered. “Damn, Xavier, she hates you.”

Xavier groaned, throwing his hands up. “I’m just trying to be friendly.”

“More like failing to be friendly.” Bianca corrected, smirking.

Wednesday scowled. She didn’t like this. The way Xavier was blatantly trying to get your attention, the way he was—pathetically—trying to get a reaction out of you. And she especially didn’t like that, for a second, you looked... entertained.

Before she could dwell on it further, Yoko arrived, sliding onto the bench with her usual laid-back energy. “Wow,” she remarked, surveying the table. “This is a weird mix of people.”

Wednesday half expected you to get up and leave, to remove yourself from the growing number of people surrounding you. But you didn’t.

You remained where you were, though your shoulders tensed slightly, and there was a subtle shift in your expression. You weren’t uncomfortable. You weren’t guarded.

But here, among all these people, you seemed slightly irritated, but human.

And for some reason, that made her feel something she couldn’t quite place

Wednesday felt it all, the way she always seemed to end up beside you—walking through the halls, settling into her seat during class.

She told herself it was nothing. A strategic choice, you were an anomaly, and she was merely studying you, trying to make sense of that dream, trying to make sense of you.

You didn’t question it. You didn’t ask why she was beside you between classes, why she sat near you when she had the chance, why she existed in your orbit like it was simply the way things were meant to be.

And Wednesday… Wednesday felt something almost like satisfaction in that. She wasn't sure why she felt… privileged.

It wasn’t as though you had declared her presence welcome, nor did you ever seek it out. You simply tolerated it. And somehow, that felt like enough. She had seen how you interacted—or rather, how you didn’t interact—with others. You kept your distance. You tolerated Enid. But beyond that, you were an island. Unreachable.

So why was she the exception?

The thought was infuriating. She didn’t like questions without answers.

And even in the dull monotony of school, she felt it, you never let your guard down entirely.

Except for one moment.

The fencing class.

She had been looking forward to it. She had been looking forward to you.

And you didn’t disappoint.

Wednesday had challenged you again. And, as expected, she lost. But this time, it was different. This time, she fought harder, adapted quicker. This time, she made you work for your victory.

And this time, she swore she saw something new in your expression—a flicker of exertion, a moment where you had to focus just a little harder.

She was getting better. And that meant something.

For once, she wasn’t entirely bitter about the loss.

By the time the final bell rang and students were retreating to their dorms, she found herself once again at your side. Neither of you spoke at first.

She felt a strange tightness in her chest, something akin to anticipation. It was an irritating, foreign sensation.

She cleared her throat. “I intend to continue our training this evening.”

You hummed.

That was it. Just a hum.

Wednesday frowned. “Is that a yes?”

You didn’t glance at her. “Maybe.”

She exhaled sharply. “I dislike uncertainty.”

You shrugged. “Then that’s your problem.”

She bristled. You had a talent for being insufferable. And yet, for some inexplicable reason, she found herself anticipating the evening regardless.

You reached your dorm, unlocking the door and stepping inside without another word.

You didn’t invite her in.

She hadn’t expected you to.

But she didn’t leave immediately either.

Her eyes flickered over your room, drinking in the details—or rather, the lack of them.

It was empty.

Not physically, of course. The furniture was there, the walls intact. But there was nothing personal. No photographs, no decorations, no trinkets that suggested someone actually lived here.

It was cold, soulless.

Just like you.

Like you weren’t meant to stay.

Wednesday’s gaze snapped back to you just in time to see you shrug off your blazer, revealing the toned muscles underneath.

That was—

She swallowed, fingers twitching at her sides.

You were strong. She had already known that, felt it in every spar, every clash of weapons. But seeing it like this, under normal lighting, without the rush of battle—

It was different.

She forced herself to look away, scanning the rest of the room instead. That’s when she noticed the bed. Singular.

“You don’t have a roommate?” she asked.

You barely glanced at her. “Wasn’t safe.”

Before she could question further, you reached for the door.

And then—

Slam.

No goodbye. No parting glance. Just the door shutting in her face.

She should have been angry. She should have been irritated at the sheer audacity of you brushing her off so effortlessly.

Instead, she was intrigued.

Again.

Not safe?

The Poe Cup was fast approaching. Preparation was necessary, and while Enid was all too excited about the event, Wednesday was far more interested in ensuring Bianca suffered another humiliating loss.

Her mind should have been occupied with tactics, strategies—ways to dismantle the Siren’s chances at victory.

Instead, it was occupied with you.

No matter how many times she tried to redirect her thoughts, they circled back to you.

Wednesday’s grip tightened around the paintbrush. This was unacceptable.

She had no reason to be thinking about you right now, yet you had embedded yourself into the crevices of her mind, refusing to be dislodged. Your movements, your words—or lack thereof—haunted her in ways she couldn’t quite explain.

It was infuriating.

Why were you always so quiet? Why did you refuse to let anyone in? And why did Wednesday want to be the exception?

The brush in her hand stopped mid-stroke.

A slow, creeping sense of realization settled over her.

She did.

She wanted to be the exception.

The thought was both disturbing and—

“Wow,” Enid said suddenly, snapping Wednesday from her thoughts. “You’ve been at that same spot for like, five minutes.”

Wednesday blinked, turning her head slightly. Enid was watching her, "You're all distracted and moody, well, more moody than usual. And you still haven't come up with a dozen of ways to beat Bianca so that says alot."

Wednesday tightened the rope harder than necessary, the material digging into her palms. "Perhaps you should concern yourself with decorating the boat and leave my thoughts alone."

Enid gasped dramatically. "So you admit you’re thinking about something else?"

Wednesday clenched her jaw.

There was a beat of silence before Enid's tone shifted, becoming far too smug for Wednesday’s liking. "So, what is it? What did she do? Did she say something? Did she look at you in a way that made your little goth heart go all boom boom—?"

"Enid." Wednesday’s voice was sharp, and for a moment, it seemed like Enid might actually drop it.

She didn’t. "Face it, Wednesday. You’re obsessed."

Wednesday stiffened.

The words hit closer than they should have.

Because the truth was, she was obsessed.

With figuring you out.

With understanding why you were the way you were.

Why you made her feel—

No.

She wouldn’t entertain that thought.

Instead, she inhaled sharply and said, "If I did want to learn more about someone, how would I do it?"

Enid blinked.

"You’re seriously asking me this?"

Wednesday rolled her eyes.

Enid grinned. "Well, you could just stalk them, but let’s be real, we both know that’s not going to work with her. She’s, like, the most un-stalkable person I’ve ever seen. Perhaps you should umm.. how would you say it 'Try courting her.' "

Wednesday blinked.

“What?”

“You know, court her,” Enid said, beaming. “Spend time with her, get to know her more. Talk with her. Maybe even—” she wiggled her eyebrows “—text her at night.”

Wednesday narrowed her eyes. “Why at night?”

“Because,” Enid said, “that’s usually when people let their guard down.”

Wednesday stared at her, utterly still. This was absurd. Completely absurd. And yet… A horrifying thought took root in her mind. Would it work?

Wednesday tightened her grip on the rope.

She was going to kill Enid Sinclair.

Wednesday was finally done coloring their boat.  Now her mind was finally where it should be—on strategy, on victory, on humiliating Bianca once again.

And then you arrived.

You carried the boat paddles, your expression unreadable as always.

Wednesday set her brush down, folding her arms as she eyed you. You placed the paddles beside her without a word.

“Let me guess. Enid forced you.”

“I don’t get forced to do things.”

Wednesday raised a skeptical brow. “So you willingly volunteered to help paint these?”

A beat of silence. Then, a flat, “No.”

Wednesday almost smirked. Almost.

You sighed as if resigning yourself to your fate, rolling up your sleeves. “Let’s get this over with.”

Wednesday wordlessly handed you a brush, watching as you dipped it into the paint. You worked with smooth, deliberate strokes, methodical in your approach. For a moment, there was nothing but the soft shh-shh of bristles against wood.

“You handle a brush like you handle a sword,” she said eventually.

You didn’t look at her. “And how is that?”

“Precise. Controlled.”

You were quiet for a beat. Then, “So do you.”

Wednesday paused mid-stroke.

It was such a simple remark, devoid of any weight or hidden meaning, but for some reason, it lodged itself into her thoughts like a splinter.

She turned slightly to glance at you, only to find you focused entirely on your task. As if the words had been nothing more than an observation.

Her mind was racing, but she refused to let it show. It was infuriating how easily you unsettled her, how effortlessly you took over her thoughts.

This was not supposed to happen.

And yet, it was.

She needed to say something—anything—to break the tension creeping into her chest.

“Why do you never ask questions?”

You paused mid-stroke, finally glancing at her. “What?”

Wednesday met your gaze. “You never ask anything. Never pry. Why?”

You studied her for a moment before looking away. “I don’t see the point.”

Wednesday tilted her head. “Curiosity is a natural human instinct.”

“I’ve never been particularly human.”

Wednesday’s fingers twitched again. That statement—it was too familiar. Too close to something she would say.

Before she could think of a response, footsteps approached again, breaking the moment entirely.

Enid and Yoko had arrived.

“So, are we finally making a battle plan, or are we just winging it?”

Wednesday exhaled slowly, “Yes,” she said, rising to her feet. “We’re discussing strategy.”

Enid perked up. “Good, because I just got some inside info—Bianca’s adding shields to her boat this year. That means last year’s spear trick won’t work.”

Wednesday clenched her jaw. The race was tomorrow, and she had yet to come up with an alternative strategy.

She had been too—

Distracted.

Enid leaned over the boat, frowning. “We need something else.”

Enid and Yoko began listing potential alternatives, but every suggestion was quickly met with a countermeasure that Bianca had likely already accounted for.

Nothing felt right.

Nothing seemed enough.

And then—

“Your focus is misplaced.” you spoke.

All three of them turned to you.

You remained seated, still painting, still looking entirely uninterested in the conversation.

“You’re too fixated on Bianca,” you continued. “There are other teams in this race. You’re underestimating them.”

Enid blinked. “Wait, what?”

“Focus on them,” you said simply.

Enid frowned. “And Bianca?”

“Leave taking Bianca’s boat down to me.” you said as you finished the last stroke of paint on the paddle.

Wednesday rolled her eyes. “And what guarantee do we have that you can take her down? The water is her field.”

Your gaze met hers.

Emotionless. And Wednesday can see it... the darkness building in your eyes.

“I don’t fail.”

A slow smirk curled at the edges of Wednesday’s lips.

Because suddenly—

Suddenly, she knew exactly how they were going to win.

Wednesday adjusted the black cat ears on her head with all the enthusiasm of someone fastening a noose around their own neck.

This was humiliating. She loathed every aspect of it. But, she supposed, she loathed losing more.

With a sigh, she pulled on the last piece of the outfit and stepped out of the Black Cat’s tent.

And there you were.

Standing a short distance away, arms crossed, staring at Enid and Yoko like they had personally insulted your ancestors.

Your expression was twisted into something resembling mild horror as you looked them up and down. Almost as if you felt her presence, your eyes flicked over to her.

And then—

Disgust.

Your face didn’t change much, but Wednesday caught the subtle narrowing of your eyes, the barely-there curl of your lip.

She had seen this expression on you before—when you were unimpressed, when you found something utterly beneath your standards.

And now you were looking at her like that.

Wednesday was already plotting different ways to murder Enid for putting her in this position.

“I’m not wearing that.” you said.

“Oh, what?” Enid gasped. “You didn’t know?” She turned to Wednesday, hands on her hips. “Wednesday didn’t tell you? This is compulsory.”

You turned to her, a glare so sharp it could cut steel.

She held your glare, unwavering, refusing to be intimidated by whatever silent death threat you were sending her way.

But—strangely—her pulse quickened.

Not out of fear.

Out of something far worse.

Something she refused to name.

Without another word, you grabbed one of the dreadful uniforms from the pile and disappeared into the changing tent.

The second you were gone, Enid turned to Wednesday, eyes practically gleaming.

“This is kinda romantic,” she mused.

Wednesday narrowed her eyes. “What part of this is remotely romantic?”

"The way you two had a telepathic deathmatch to see who comes out on top right now."

Wednesday ignored her and crossed her arms, waiting.

The minutes stretched, and with each passing second, an odd anticipation settled in her chest.

The tent flap opened and you stepped out.

Her mind stuttered.

There you stood, in the same ridiculous, skintight, fur-trimmed uniform as the rest of them.

Except—

Somehow, on you, it wasn’t ridiculous at all.

The tight fabric outlined every curve, every muscle. The high collar made your shoulders seem sharper, your stance more imposing. And somehow, somehow, the absurd cat ears didn’t make you look silly. They made you look…

Wednesday clenched her jaw.

Absolutely not.

She refused to acknowledge whatever this was.

You had the same unimpressed, vaguely murderous expression you always did, but now it was directed at Enid.

“Try to hug me and I’ll gut you.”

Enid, unbothered, clasped her hands together. “Awww, you’re so cute when you threaten me.”

Wednesday barely heard them.

She was too focused on regaining her composure.

Luckily, Enid was already moving on. “So this is it. You ready?" she asked.

You nodded and strode toward the competition’s starting line. Wednesday followed a moment later, trying very hard to bury whatever the hell had just happened to her brain.

Wednesday gripped her oar with steady fingers, her mind already calculating all the different outcomes, all the scenarios.

Enid sat in the front of their sleek black boat, all grins and bubbling excitement, her fingers twitching with the urge to start rowing before Weems even gave the signal. Yoko was just behind her. Then there was herself, positioned in the middle, strategically placed for control, for observation.

And finally—

You.

Right behind her.

The final and most unpredictable element of this entire race.

She had spent so much time observing you, studying you, trying to untangle the mystery of who you were. And now, here you were, closer than ever, a mere breath away from her.

It made something restless twist inside her.

To their right sat the Amontillados, Xavier's team, who was currently staring at the their boat with open amusement. No—

Not at the boat.

At you.

Wednesday stiffened as Xavier leaned forward, his mouth already curving into that insufferable smirk.

“Wow,” he mused, voice just loud enough for you to hear. “Never thought I’d see you in something like that. Gotta say, it’s a look.”

Wednesday’s grip on her oar tightened.

She knew Xavier well enough to recognize that tone, that smug attempt at charm. He tried it on herself last year. He was flirting. With you.

Wednesday felt something snap. A cold, sharp irritation slithered through her chest. She resisted the urge to throw him overboard.

Your reaction, as always, was infuriatingly unreadable. You didn’t acknowledge Xavier, didn’t look at him, didn’t even blink and Xavier chuckled, clearly amused.

She would drown him.

She would personally drag him to the bottom of the lake and drown him.

Before she could act on the impulse, the sound of Principal Weems clearing her throat brought her back.

“The annual Poe Cup is a tradition that has stood since the founding of Nevermore Academy,” Weems began, her voice carrying across the water. “It is a test of teamwork, strategy, and endurance.”

Wednesday resisted the urge to scoff.

Weems continued, glancing between the competing boats. “As always, the rules are simple. Each team must paddle across Raven’s Island, retrieve their team flag, and return to the starting line without being sunk. First team across with their flag—wins.”

Weems lifted the revolver high.

“Let the best team win.”

The second the gunshot rang through the air, the boats shot forward, Bianca’s team took the lead almost immediately, her boat gliding through the water with practiced ease, her team moving in perfect sync with her commands.

Wednesday focused. Bianca wasn’t their immediate concern.

Not yet.

Enid paddled furiously at the front, Yoko, right behind her, was more controlled, keeping pace with Wednesday’s calculated movements.

And at the very back, you were eerily calm as you paddled.

Silent.

Watching.

It was infuriating how unfazed you looked while the rest of them exerted themselves, muscles burning as they fought against the current.

But Wednesday had no time to dwell on it.

Not when she caught movement to her left.

Wednesday snapped her head toward them.

The Pit and the Pendulum’s boat was creeping up at an angle, dangerously close, their team moving with clear intent. And then she saw it—

A glint of metal.

The Pit and the Pendulum’s boat jerked to the side, revealing the hidden mechanism at their center.

A massive swinging axe, And it was falling. Right toward them.

A normal person might have panicked.

Enid let out a startled noise, already moving instinctively to the side—

But before the axe could make contact—

It should have split their boat in half.

But it didn’t.

Wednesday had barely registered the movement before she saw it.

You.

Your sword was there.

Your conjured katana, held in one hand with a casual ease, intercepting the massive axe mid-swing.

The force alone should have sent you staggering—should have sent you reeling back—but you stood firm. Your grip never wavered, the katana steady as it held the axe at bay.

Wednesday felt something crawl up her spine.

Admiration? Fascination? Something else? There wasn’t time to dissect it.

She had to move. Now.

With the axe momentarily stalled, Wednesday yanked at the mechanism near her foot—a concealed lever.

The Black Cats’ trap sprang into action.

A weighted net shot out from the side of their boat as it latched onto three of the Pit and the Pendulum’s oars, entangling them, causing them to lose their balance. Their boat wobbled dangerously and then, they tipped.

Wednesday didn’t look back. She wasn't the one to revel in the small victory. Neither were you.

Because the race wasn’t over yet.

Ahead, Bianca’s boat surged forward, sleek and unhindered, cutting through the water like a blade. She had taken an early lead, and despite Wednesday’s best efforts to focus, irritation prickled at the back of her mind.

Not because Bianca was winning.

But because her own mind—her own cursed thoughts—kept slipping back to the girl at the rear of their boat who was silent as ever.

Bianca’s team had reached the island first.

Wednesday grit her teeth, adjusting her grip on the oar. Each stroke sent a sharp pull through her muscles, the effort burning in her arms, but she refused to relent.

Enid panted in front of her, “We’re almost there!”

Yoko, ever composed, nodded. “Push harder. We need to close the gap.”

Bianca’s team had already beached their boat, Bianca going for the flag while the rest stayed behind to defend the boat against any sabotage.

Wednesday didn’t hesitate.

The moment their boat scraped against the shore, she jumped out, boots sinking into the wet sand. She knew the way.

She had walked this ground before.

But so had Bianca. She moved quickly, heart pounding not from exertion, but from the quiet thrill of the challenge. When she reached their flags Bianca was already taking her's. Wednesday narrowed her eyes, stepping closer.

Bianca said running past her, “Try not to take a cat nap this time, Addams.”

“I could take one and still win," Wednesday said yanking their flag off.

As soon as she returned back to the shoreline, she spotted her team already waiting in the boat. Enid was already waving frantically from the boat.

“Hurry!” she yelled. “They’re getting ready to launch!”

Wednesday barely slowed as she reached the water’s edge. The boat rocked as she jumped in, but her balance remained steady. She shoved the flag into the side compartment before gripping her oar.

They were back on the water.

And Bianca was still ahead.

The race was now in its most critical moment. The return.

Bianca’s boat cut through the waves, her team paddling with brutal efficiency. But then— Bianca’s team made their move.

Wednesday saw it before the Amontillados did.

Dark shapes slithered beneath the water, just barely visible beneath the surface. Sirens.

Wednesday watched as Xavier’s boat lurch violently.

His teammates flailed, oars slipping from their grasp as hands dragged against their boat, pulling them off course.

The Amontillados didn’t stand a chance.

Xavier and his team barely had time to react before the boat tipped, sending them plunging into the lake.

“Bianca with her damn sirens again,” Yoko muttered. “She took out the Amontillados. We’re next, get ready!”

“I will cut their arms off if they touch this boat.” Your voice was even, void of emotion. “They know that,” you continued, “So they won’t. They probably have some other strategy to take us down.”

Wednesday believed you.

She wasn’t sure if the sirens feared you because of what you could do, or because they had seen you do it before.

They rowed and they rowed.

The finish line loomed ahead, the cheers from the shore swallowed by the sound of paddles striking the water and the waves.

Bianca’s boat was ahead, but not by much. The Black Cats were closing in, their speed a perfect, deadly rhythm, Wednesday just needs to slow it down. She got ready, this was her time, her hand tightened around the crossbow, the one you had given her, or more accurately, conjured for her. It was light, too light, yet it fit in her hands as if it had always been meant for her.

She positioned herself, lifting the crossbow, lining up the shot. One bolt. Just one hole in that boat and the black cats are winning this.

She exhaled, steadying her fingers on the trigger—

Then froze.

A sound curled through the air, slipping into her mind like a wisp of fog curling around her thoughts. It wasn’t loud. It wasn’t forceful.

It was beautiful.

Her aim faltered.

Her vision blurred at the edges.

Bianca.

Bianca was singing.

Wednesday clenched her jaw, forcing her grip to stay firm, her finger pressing against the trigger. She blinked, forcing focus, forcing precision—Then fired.

The bolt sliced through the air, cutting towards its target. And then....

Then it missed. No, it didn't miss, it went through Bianca's boat, or more like.. the fake projection of the boat Bianca created in her vision, just behind their actual boat.

Wednesday gritted her teeth. Bianca’s smirk was sharp, knowing.

Then the real attack began.

The siren’s song grew louder, crashing over them like a tidal wave. It wasn’t just in her head anymore—it was in the air, vibrating in her skull, pressing against her ribs.

“Shit—” Yoko’s voice was strangled as she tore her hands from the oar, slamming them over her ears.

Enid whimpered, her claws scraping against the boat’s side as she did the same.

The song grew stronger, insidious. Not just a suggestion, but a command.

Jump.

The word coiled around them like a serpent tightening its grip.

Wednesday felt it seep into her thoughts, her fingers twitching at the oar. Her arms burned as she struggled to paddle alone, the boat swaying against the current.

Bianca’s gaze locked onto hers, triumph in every line of her expression.

She had won. She knew it. And so did Wednesday.

The edges of her vision darkened, the melody still tugging, pulling, commanding, and then—

Bianca’s face twisted. Her smirk faltered.

The song stopped.

A scream.

No

Multiple screams.

Wednesday knew screams.

She had heard them before—raw, agonized, desperate cries that filled the halls of her mind like a sweet melody.

But this—

This was different.

It wasn’t just pain.

It was terror.

Pure, unfiltered terror.

Wednesday’s gaze snapped to Bianca’s boat.

Bianca’s team was writhing, clawing at themselves, their mouths open in bloodcurdling shrieks. Their fingers tore at their skin, their bodies convulsing as if set ablaze by something unseen.

One of them lurched forward, eyes wide in horror as he let out a strangled gasp—

Then flung himself into the water.

Then another.

And another.

Bianca was the only one left.

And she was shaking.

Slowly, she turned looking at their boat but her eyes weren’t on Wednesday anymore.

They were looking behind her.

Enid and Yoko turned first.

And then Wednesday followed.

You weren’t there.

The space where you had been sitting was empty. They immediately turned back, looking at Bianca.

Bianca’s expression was frozen in something Wednesday had never seen on her before.

Fear.

Not apprehension.

Not wariness.

True, genuine fear.

Then Wednesday saw why.

You stood on Bianca’s boat.

No sound, no splash, no indication of movement. One moment you had been with them. The next, you were standing before Bianca, staring at her as if.., as if you were the bringer of death itself.

Then, with a flicker of motion so quick it was almost imperceptible—

Your katana materialized in your hand.

A sharp whistle of air as the blade cut through space—

Bianca flinched, her arms flying up in reflex, but the strike never touched her.

Instead—

A sharp crack echoed through the water.

A split second later, Bianca’s boat lurched violently.

A clean, perfect slash—

Straight through the hull.

The boat split in two, water rushing in, swallowing it whole.

Bianca barely had time to react before she was sinking, her body hitting the water with a sharp splash.

Wednesday steadied her breath.

Her fingers curled around the oar, her grip firm.

She turned back.

And there you were. Sitting in your seat.

As if you had never left. As if nothing had happened.

“Start rowing.” Your voice was emotionless, cold. Commanding.

Wednesday’s fingers twitched against the wood. She had never been one to follow orders. But she didn’t hesitate to follow this.

[End note: Yeah, that took me too much time to even copy paste from doc to here lol. Comment how was it]

[Also comment if u wanna be added to the taglist because the updates will take a bit time because of the length.]

Taglist: @rqizzu @sevyscoven @kingoftheracoons @kingofthings2 @masterofpuppets-10 @alexkolax @ognenniyvolk@mally-ka@protozoario@machyishere@freakshow2501@101rizzlrr @casbrawel

[seitmai]

“Because of how you went about all of this. I know you were desperate, and I get the drive behind some of your actions now,” you said, which you refused to excuse. You got it but couldn’t excuse it. “Your response of ‘where’s the fun in that?’ when I said you couldn’t just ask me out like a normal person? You almost seemed to delight in intimidating me. Why?" If you saved his mom, why do this?

💔💔💔

“I didn’t delight in that. I played it wrong,” he admitted in a quiet voice, surprising you. “I approached it like…” “Like everything else in your life where you have everyone under your thumb through fear. You did the same thing to me.” You laughed just a little. “In a way, it worked because I’m officially afraid to try to leave you.” “I don’t want you to fear me or what we have,” he whispered, reaching for you as you scooted back.

Uff I think it's too late for that 🫣

“What we have? Tell me, do you think your mom would be proud of your actions to obtain me or ashamed?” You couldn’t believe that was the kind of man she raised, to put fear into the heart of the person he supposedly loved.

I'm sure she would not be happy

How could you truly fall in love with him when he orchestrated everything from the start? “Feelings or not you’re still going to force me to move in with you soon, and that scares me,” you said. Your wings would forever be clipped.

Like a bird in a gilded cage

“If you can cancel or reschedule it,” he replied. You stared hard at him. Where was that coming from? “No, it's tomorrow, and I’m not cancelling or rescheduling. And don’t you dare use Zemo as an excuse to get your way,” you snapped. Even if it was a valid reason, you didn’t want to hear it.

His audacity has no bounds

The blonde stared straight ahead. “That isn’t my decision,” he said apologetically. Your shoulders slumped. For a short time, you thought he could be on your side or at least help give you some slack. “Right. Because you don't get to make decisions, and neither do I. You’re a bodyguard, I’m just a doll,” you said, looking straight ahead, too, and pulling your hand back when Bucky tried to take it. “Please, don’t.”

I get her frustration...

“I’m sure I’ll take her up on that soon,” you said, turning your head to glare at Bucky. While his expression was stoic, his eyes told you he didn’t want you to be upset with him. “And make sure she adds an inconvenience fee to the damaged wall bill. She’ll know what I mean.”

A hefty one at that!

You didn't speak until Ray walked past you to get his car. “You’re trying to get me to cancel my day out with my friends, after you went through the whole charade of buying me a new dress for it and everything. And after what you told me about your mom.” You took a breath to try to calm down. “Yeah, I’m upset, and yeah, you’re supplying me with the very bricks to build that wall.”

Period!

“Because even arguing with you makes me happy,” he sincerely stated. “And now all I want to do is find a way to put a smile back on your face.”

Good god something is so wrong with his understanding of love🫣🥴

Silence filled the vehicle. “So, you know the truth,” he said after a minute, his voice neutral. “Are you okay?” “I’m trying to be,” you answered carefully. You really were. “That’s all you can do,” he said before adding under his breath, “No good deed goes unpunished.”

For real 🥴

“Too nice for someone like Bucky Barnes,” he muttered, his smile disappearing completely.

👀

“Wait, you’re already home?” he asked. The background noise suddenly stopped. “Did you get a cab? Please tell me you didn’t walk back to your place.” “…Fine, I won’t tell you that.”

Hahah the perfect answer

“I’ll…” you began, steadying yourself. Natasha said you had power, and maybe you’d have to test that sooner than you expected. “Stay at your place tonight .”You could hear a pin drop from the quiet. “You’ll stay the night?” he asked, his voice moving like lava through your veinspp. “Yes,” you whispered, hammering the nail in the coffin.

At what cost 😬

Hold You Tight: Part 16

Pairing: Club Owner!Bucky Barnes x Female Reader

Fic Summary: The owner of The 107th wants you to be his girl whether you like it or not.

Part 15 | Series Masterlist | Part 17

Chapter Word Count: Over 5.4k

Chapter Summary: Bucky tries to pull you closer when you want to pull away, and someone else in your life my not take no for an answer.

Chapter Warnings: DARK AU, arguing, tension, slight harassment, kissing, reference to stalking, inner turmoil, manipulation, Bucky Barnes (he's a warning, okay?), more warnings to come.

A/N: More Hold You Tight! Thank you for sticking with me! Bucky edit by the beautiful @nixakimbo ❤️ Beta read by the lovely @whisperlullaby but any and all mistakes are my own. Divider by the talented @firefly-graphics. Please follow @navybrat817-sideblog new fics and notifications. Comments, reblogs, feedback are loved and appreciated!

Bucky traded lazy kisses with you as your tears slowed, and you had no idea if it was his mouth that had your heart pounding and the crushing weight of everything that surrounded him. It was so much to unpack. Every encounter with him seemed to be that way. Something blindsided you or suffocated you, but you hadn't been at all prepared for what he just shared. And how could you? He didn't keep photos of his mother around, and you hadn't gone poking around online.

Would you have found out the truth if you had?

He followed your lips when you pulled away. “It’s okay,” he whispered, pulling you back in.

It wasn’t okay. Nothing was okay. Though it partially made sense now why he was moving so fast. He believed if he met you then that you would've fallen in love and been together to this day. Because he didn't seek you out then and lost so much time, he was packing everything into a rushed time span. Dating, meeting his friends, getting you into his place. He was moving things along at an accelerated speed, and you were barely keeping up with the ride.

“No.” The muffled word against his lips somehow rang out loud and clear enough for him to stop, but you put a hand on his chest in case he tried to lean in again. “Why are you punishing me?”

His eyes rounded. “You think I’m punishing you? Jesus, why would you think that?”

“Because of how you went about all of this. I know you were desperate, and I get the drive behind some of your actions now,” you said, which you refused to excuse. You got it but couldn’t excuse it. “Your response of ‘where’s the fun in that?’ when I said you couldn’t just ask me out like a normal person? You almost seemed to delight in intimidating me. Why?”

If you saved his mom, why do this?

“I didn’t delight in that. I played it wrong,” he admitted in a quiet voice, surprising you. “I approached it like…”

“Like everything else in your life where you have everyone under your thumb through fear. You did the same thing to me.” You laughed just a little. “In a way, it worked because I’m officially afraid to try to leave you.”

Had things blossomed between you two organically, you’d like to believe that things would’ve been better. Healthy. There was always the chance that a relationship might’ve come to an end because life was like that. But if he frightened you enough to stay forever, he’d never have to worry. The stars would still align as far as he was concerned.

“I don’t want you to fear me or what we have,” he whispered, reaching for you as you scooted back.

“What we have? Tell me, do you think your mom would be proud of your actions to obtain me or ashamed?” You couldn’t believe that was the kind of man she raised, to put fear into the heart of the person he supposedly loved.

He flinched. Actually flinched. You might as well have raised a hand to him. “She…” He swallowed. “She would’ve wanted us together.”

“Like this? By you not giving me a choice?” you asked, pushing yourself up. “I need to go home.” There would be no getting through to him and this revelation was doing your head in. One cup of coffee wasn't enough either.

He got up to follow you. “Why are you rushing off?”

“I have a shift today, and I have to go home and shower,” you said, grabbing some of your things. “Don’t worry about dropping me off. I’ll get a cab.”

“What? No, you-”

“You put money in my account, so it’s not like I have to worry about paying for it. And it’s not like I’ll be alone either since you’ll have me followed whether I want it or not,” you said as a matter of fact.

“You’re putting a wall up,” he said, frowning as you grabbed your phone charger before he could. “Don’t shut me out, please.”

“I’m not shutting you out. I’m trying to process the gigantic bombshell you dropped on me,” you said, stopping to look at him when he grabbed your arm. “Bucky-”

“This has been a lot, all of it, but we can’t go back and change it, and you know I can’t let you go because we’re meant to be together,” he said, his eyes searching yours. “You feel it. I know you do.”

How many times would he say that until you agreed? “Just because you think fate stepped in-”

“Fate brought you into my club, but I gave it a much-needed push to bring us together after leaving things to chance for so long,” he said, tugging you closer and putting his other hand on your cheek. “You can’t tell me you don’t care about me in some capacity. You’re just afraid to admit it because it isn’t conventional in your eyes, but you don’t have to be afraid of how you feel.”

How could you truly fall in love with him when he orchestrated everything from the start? “Feelings or not you’re still going to force me to move in with you soon, and that scares me,” you said. Your wings would forever be clipped.

“We should’ve been living together and married by now,” he argued, keeping a tight hold on you. “I know I’m making you move in sooner than you want, but beyond safety it’ll give us a chance to really know each other before we get married.”

Talk of marriage had your heart thudding. The man would probably force you to marry him sooner than you wanted. “You said you already know everything about me,” you said. At least he thought he knew you. The vision of you he built up in his mind scared you, too. He couldn’t keep you on that pedestal.

“But you don’t fully know me yet, and I don’t know what it’s like to live with you. The experience will bring us closer together.” His smile was full of hope. “We can read together, do movie nights, dance in the kitchen.”

“Bucky-”

“We can exercise together, in and out of bed,” he continued, your breath hitching as he rubbed his nose against yours. “Don’t you already feel closer to me now that you know we're meant to be?”

A quick knock on the door followed by a long one saved you from answering. “It isn't check-out time, is it?”

“No. That would be Ray,” Bucky headed to the door and kept you back a small distance before he answered. The man really was protective, wasn't he?

“I’m sorry to intrude,” Ray said, giving you a polite nod before he leaned in and whispered something to Bucky. Whatever was said to him made his face harden. The entire change in his demeanor worried you.

“Kotyonok, let’s get your bag and get you back to your place so you can get ready for work,” he suggested, his smile tight.

“What’s the matter?” you asked.

“I’ll tell you later,” he answered, kissing your forehead. “And before we go, I know you suggested taking a cab, but please let Ray take you back to your place. It would make me feel better.”

The hint of a plea in his voice and the look in Ray’s eyes kept you from protesting. “Fine, Ray can take me home. Just give me a second to change out of these pajamas,” you said, a bit surprised that Bucky wasn’t offering to take you home himself. “But you are going to tell me later what’s going on, right?” you asked.

“I will, but I need some answers myself first. Get changed. I’ll get your bag,” he said, gently guiding you to the bathroom so you could change and officially ending that conversation.

Ray was still by the entry door once you came out, looking a bit stiffer than usual, too. You stole a glance at Bucky as the three of you headed to the elevator, catching the anger etched in his features as he gripped your bag handle tight enough that you thought it would rip. They were leaving you in the dark about something. You weren’t sure if you could take any other bombshells.

“Ray may need to pick you up from work instead of me, but I’ll message you if that’s the case,” Bucky said, fixing his hair in the elevator reflection. “And… we may need to talk about your girls’ day out.”

“What about it?” you asked, already knowing where he was going with this.

“If you can cancel or reschedule it,” he replied.

You stared hard at him. Where was that coming from? “No, it's tomorrow, and I’m not cancelling or rescheduling. And don’t you dare use Zemo as an excuse to get your way,” you snapped. Even if it was a valid reason, you didn’t want to hear it.

His jaw clenched, but he looked sad as he glanced at you. “I just don’t know if it’s a good idea.”

“We talked about this. If it’s a safety issue, Ray agreed that someone could watch out for me. That should keep me safe,” you reminded him. You’d be fine. “Right, Ray?”

The blonde stared straight ahead. “That isn’t my decision,” he said apologetically.

Your shoulders slumped. For a short time, you thought he could be on your side or at least help give you some slack. “Right. Because you don't get to make decisions, and neither do I. You’re a bodyguard, I’m just a doll,” you said, looking straight ahead, too, and pulling your hand back when Bucky tried to take it. “Please, don’t.”

“Kotyonok…” Bucky sighed as the door opened. You marched out, not waiting for either of them. “Wait.”

You headed straight for the desk, feeling sadder when you didn’t see Natasha. “Checking out, please,” you said, sliding the room card over to the woman standing there.

“Of course. I hope you enjoyed your stay.” She looked behind you likely at Bucky before giving you a smile. “Ms. Romanoff also wanted to remind you that you have a place here if you need one.”

“I’m sure I’ll take her up on that soon,” you said, turning your head to glare at Bucky. While his expression was stoic, his eyes told you he didn’t want you to be upset with him. “And make sure she adds an inconvenience fee to the damaged wall bill. She’ll know what I mean.”

“I’ll be sure to do that,” she smiled. “Take care.”

Bucky was hot on your heel and you didn't make it two steps out the door before he had a hand on you. “You’re upset with me. Putting up more of that wall.”

You didn't speak until Ray walked past you to get his car. “You’re trying to get me to cancel my day out with my friends, after you went through the whole charade of buying me a new dress for it and everything. And after what you told me about your mom.” You took a breath to try to calm down. “Yeah, I’m upset, and yeah, you’re supplying me with the very bricks to build that wall.”

“I said we may need to talk about it, I didn’t flat out say you weren’t going,” he corrected you. He might as well have. “I know it means a lot to you, but-”

You held a hand up. “No. There are no ‘buts’ in this. For all you keep taking from me, I don’t ask for much. I really don't,” you stated. In fact, you’ve shown lots of restraint. “Who knows how many moments I’ll get like this with my friends once you move me in.” He wasn’t about to take this small thing from you after everything.

He titled his head. “You think I’ll keep you from them?”

“Part of me thinks you will, yes. Because as soon as I think that there’s hope, the second I think that we could be closer together while you loosen the reins, you say or do something that puts me back in your full control,” you said. He had to see that. “And every time you do that, like you are right now, it makes me want to push you away.”

“And you can push all you want, but I’ll just pull you closer,” he smiled, making you huff when he actually did so. “I’m not afraid to let you burn me.”

“You keep saying that. Give me a match or a lighter and we’ll test that theory,” you said. He burst out laughing, the sound loud in the morning air as your eyes widened. “Why are you laughing?” you asked incredulously. How could he laugh when you were still worked up?

“Because even arguing with you makes me happy,” he sincerely stated. “And now all I want to do is find a way to put a smile back on your face.”

You exhaled. He was so in love with the idea of a relationship with you that arguments appealed to him? Anyone else would've walked away by now.

“You’re infuriating,” you whispered when he touched the corner of your mouth and made it twitch in a small smile. “Impossible.”

“I know,” he whispered back, running a hand through his hair. “Listen, you’re tired and you’re overwhelmed, which is completely my fault. Am I right?”

“Yes,” you sighed. He hit it right on the nose.

“And maybe I was rash in suggesting that you cancel your plans, but I need to take care of a couple things before we discuss that more,” he said, leading you to Ray's car before you could protest. “You just have a good shift, okay?”

He was placating you now, and it was sadly working. “Fine,” you said, touching his hand, the metal one. “I don’t think I said so earlier, but thank you for finally telling me the truth,” you said, calmer than you were moments before. He should've told you from the start, but it couldn't have been easy reopening old wounds regarding his dad.

His gaze softened. “Thank you for letting me.”

“And whatever Ray told you or whatever’s going on, just breathe, okay?” you begged.

He took a deep breath. “I’ll just think of you and it’ll help,” he said, adding in a low voice as he pulled you against him. “And this.”

This was nothing like the slow, languid kisses from minutes ago. This was dominant, claiming, threatening to rob you of the air in your lungs, like he wanted you to feed your own breath into him. He either forgot Ray was there, or he simply didn’t care.

By the time Bucky stopped kissing you and helped you into the car, you didn’t want to look either of them in the eye.

“I love you,” he whispered, kissing your temple and shutting the door as your heart flip flopped. God, he was insufferable. Confusing. Obsessed.

“You're certainly keeping him on his toes,” Ray said, not driving off until he made sure Bucky was in his vehicle, too.

“Someone has to,” you said, staring out the window. “I’m going with my friends tomorrow. I don't care if he makes you drag me back,” you said. Unless your life was in some sort of immediate danger, there was no reason for you to skip out on meeting up with the girls.

“So you’re aware, the suggestion of you moving your day out has nothing to do with wanting to control you. He’s upset because of the news I delivered and he wants to keep you close,” Ray explained, making you feel a little bad.

“So, that news was the reason why you both changed your tune, and you can't tell me what that news is,” you guessed. If you were in some sort of danger though, surely Bucky would’ve said so. “He told me about his mom. How I saved her.”

Silence filled the vehicle. “So, you know the truth,” he said after a minute, his voice neutral. “Are you okay?”

“I’m trying to be,” you answered carefully. You really were.

“That’s all you can do,” he said before adding under his breath, “No good deed goes unpunished.”

You snorted. “I guess I'm living breathing proof of that.” It was ironic how an act of kindness put you on this path. “And as much as I don't like to wish pain upon people, I hope Bucky's dad got whatever he deserved.”

Winnie, from the short time you knew her, was nothing but wonderful. Bucky said the dahlia painting in his office served as a reminder that he would never do to you what his dad did to his mom. He would never set you up to take the fall for anyone else, wouldn’t let someone else hurt you if he could help it. He would forever stand by you.

Was pushing him away doing you any good?

“He did,” Ray promised you. “And I say with complete sincerity that I hope today is very uneventful for you after the time you've had.”

Your nose scrunched as you laughed. “So do I, Ray. So do I.”

Ray was kind enough to wait outside of your place as you showered and got ready for work, and didn't push you to talk more before he dropped you off at the shop. He was even kind enough to stop so you could get another cup of coffee. It helped improve your mood.

“There she is!” Kate smiled when you walked in. “Little miss not-so-single anymore.”

“Hey,” you giggled before you paused. “I didn't know you were working today. Did you switch shifts with someone?”

“God, the schedule’s all messed up. Mrs. Crandle called out for some business thing-”

“Business thing?” you asked, your brows pinched. She hardly ever took time off for things like vacation let alone a business thing without informing her staff.

“Yeah, I’m not really sure about all the details, but Lorraine ended up switching the whole schedule around. Mya’s coming in later, and I had to come in early, and your shift’s ending early.”

“What?” you frowned, checking the schedule to make sure. She was right. Your shift today was almost cut in half. “Would’ve been nice to get a text or something.”

The assistant manager wasn't bad to work with, but she could be a little forgetful with things like that. If Bucky hadn't just put money in your account, you may have been more upset over having half a shift cut. After the night and morning you had though, maybe an afternoon off wouldn't be so bad.

“She probably forgot since you were coming in at your normal time. Who knows?” Kate shrugged. “You know, I half expected Clark to be here waiting for you. Seemed really eager to see you yesterday.”

“Yeah, about that.” You looked toward the door, your body tense in anticipation even though he wasn't there. “Why did you tell him I was working today?”

“He’s kind of a regular, and I didn't really think about it. Then Mrs. Crandle brought up your boyfriend and…” Her face fell as she stopped cutting stems, which made you feel bad when she glanced your way. “Crap, I did something wrong, didn't I?”

You weren’t about to go into specifics regarding your personal situation. “I just don’t want customers to know when my shifts are unless I’m specifically working on an order or event for them, okay?” you said, hoping she understood that it was a general request.

Bucky was not getting in your head about your safety.

“Okay, as long as you aren’t mad,” she said. You gave her a smile to assure her that you were okay. “So, tell me about your new boyfriend.”

You filled her in as much as you could to make it sound believable, just like you had with Addison. Like her and Mrs. Crandle, Kate was excited for you. And they would never know the full truth.

As your shift went on, you were surprised you hadn't heard much from Bucky. It was for the best though. He was clearly dealing with something. As much as you didn't want to defend him in your mind, it had taken a lot for him to talk about his parents. To show you some of the damage done to his body. It was a vulnerable moment. Did you owe it to him to be vulnerable, too?

Wait, why did you owe him anything?

“Heading out?” Kate asked once your shift was up.

“Yeah,” you replied, glancing at your phone. You wondered if you should text Bucky before you decided against it. You'd let him know once you got to your place that you wouldn't need a ride. “Just call me if you need me to come back in.”

“Don’t worry about that. Enjoy the rest of your day!” she smiled.

Satisfied when you didn't see Bucky or Ray’s car waiting for you either, you decided to take a walk. It was a nice day, and you needed the fresh air. You hoped the weather was nice for the winery. You’d have to take photos to look back on what was going to be a fun time.

“Hey!” you heard someone shout after a few minutes of walking.

You stopped when you spotted Clark waving at you from the other side of the street. You barely waved back before he joined you. “Hey. What are you doing here?”

“Oh, I was just in the neighborhood,” he smiled, pushing his glasses up. “You done working already?”

“Yep,” you said, adjusting your bag. “And I should really-”

“Could we talk for a minute?” he asked.

You hesitated before nodding. “Sure,” you said, falling in step beside him.

“You know, I actually went to the shop to buy you flowers yesterday. I was going to buy you some roses,” he smiled.

Oh, God. “You were?”

“Yeah, but you weren’t there and… It doesn’t matter,” he smiled, shoving his hands in his pockets. “But I was thinking… Maybe we could grab a coffee sometime? My treat.”

The hopeful look in his eyes made a pit form in your stomach. “Clark, I’m seeing someone,” you said, his blue eyes dimming. Hadn’t Kate said that Mrs. Crandle brought up that you were in a relationship? “It’s fairly new, and I don’t want to mess things up,” you explained, though he wasn’t owed an explanation.

“I didn’t want to believe it,” he mumbled, kicking a small rock on the sidewalk. “Well, if it’s fairly new, I'm sure you can get coffee with other people.”

“Get coffee with people? Yes. But this kind of sounds like a date, and I don’t think that’s a good idea. I’m sorry,” you said. That would feel like cheating even if you didn't consider it a date, and you weren't that kind of person.

“Then we won’t call it a date,” he grinned.

Maybe you were feeling paranoid, but there was something weird behind his smile. “You just got out of a relationship, and I don’t want to send mixed signals by agreeing to go with you.”

His smile shook a bit. “It's just a coffee.”

“Is it?” The longer he stared, the more odd things felt, and you didn’t like it. “Listen, when you find someone else to give flowers to I’d be happy to pick some out for you.”

“I don't understand.” He laughed, but it sounded bitter. “You’ve always been nice to me.”

“Well, yeah. You’ve always been kind, too, when you come into the shop.”

“Too nice for someone like Bucky Barnes,” he muttered, his smile disappearing completely.

You gaped at him, almost faltering in your step. “What did you just say?”

“I said you’re too nice for someone like Bucky Barnes,” he said louder, his ire clear as day. “You think I don’t know about his reputation? He’s dangerous, and you’re too good for him.”

“How do you know I’m dating him?” you asked. And what did he know about his reputation?

He was quiet for a moment. “Mrs. Crandle said his name, and she has no idea what kind of man he is,” he said, making you feel uneasy. “I don’t think you do either.”

Oh, you knew plenty. “I appreciate your concern, really, but it’s nothing for you to worry about.”

“Well, I do. And I just don’t see why we can’t have one cup of coffee together,” he said, flashing a smile again. “It’ll be fun.”

“Because you know I’m seeing someone,” you said. He knew it before he bumped into you, but was still pushing for you to go with him. “And I also kind of make it a rule not to date customers,” you added, stopping when you got to your building. You walked faster than you thought.

“Well, rules should have exceptions, right? And if Bucky cared so much, where is he? Why wasn’t he waiting to pick you up and take you home?” he pressed, his eyes narrowing when you dug into your purse. “Maybe he doesn’t care about you as much as you think.”

Your next breath came out shaky. He hadn’t raised his voice at you, but you didn’t appreciate the third degree, or the implication that Bucky didn’t care. “Because he’s a busy man who sometimes works both days and nights. I don’t expect him to drop everything just to take me home.”

“If you took a chance on me, you’d never have to worry about things like that.”

You were starting to feel nauseous. “Well, sometimes I like the quiet after the bustle of the shop, so walking helps me decompress. And I can't take a chance on you when I’m seeing someone else.” Why was he being so pushy?

He took a small step closer. “You know, it’s dangerous to walk home alone.”

You took a step back, your keys between your fingers. “You’re right about that,” you agreed. The only reason you did so today was to take back a little control, which didn’t seem so smart now.

“I can start walking you home if you want,” he smiled, towering over you. Was he always so imposing? “When’s your next shift?”

You managed a smile in return, but it was extremely forced. “Clark, that’s really not necessary, but thank you for the offer. Enjoy the rest of your day.”

He gently took your arm when you turned toward the door, worry crawling up your spine when his hand tightened a fraction. You suddenly wish you had Bucky or Ray around. “I really don’t mind.”

“My boyfriend will mind, and I’m sure you can understand that. So it’s a no on the coffee and the walks home,” you said gently but firmly, pulling your arm back and rubbing the spot where Clark grabbed you. He wasn’t listening. It somehow felt worse than Bucky and you couldn’t pinpoint why. Was it because Clark tried to act nice? “It’s been a long few days, and I’m going to get some rest. Have a nice day, okay?”

His eyes narrowed again, but it was his chilling smile that unnerved you. “I’m sure I'll see you again soon. We’ll have to get that coffee,” he said, walking off before you could say another word.

You rushed into the building once he was out of sight, your hands shaking. It may have been from the confrontation or the combination of everything. Maybe Clark was just lonely and latched on a bit because you were nice. Hadn't Bucky done something similar?

But if Clark wanted to see you, why hadn't he just gone into the shop if he knew you were working?

Double checking your locks once you were in your apartment, you took a breath and stared at your phone once you sat down. You had to talk to Bucky. He answered within a few seconds of you calling.

“Kotyonok, is everything okay?” he asked, sounding both happy and concerned to hear from you.

“Yeah, why wouldn’t it be?” you asked, hearing a few other men speaking in the background.

“Because you’re calling me and not texting. And you sound a little off. What’s wrong?”

“Everything’s fine,” you lied. How did he recognize that you felt off? “I just wanted you to know that the assistant manager changed my shift, so I went home early.”

“Wait, you’re already home?” he asked. The background noise suddenly stopped. “Did you get a cab? Please tell me you didn’t walk back to your place.”

“…Fine, I won’t tell you that.”

Bucky let out an impressive string of curse words as you pulled the phone away from your ear. “That’s not safe. You know it isn’t,” he hissed, but you knew he wasn’t actually angry with you. Just the situation. And bumping into Clark today and Zemo the day before, he had a bit of a point. “You did that on purpose, didn’t you? Because I said it may not be a good idea to go out with your friends.”

You closed your eyes. He was not going to make you feel bad. “I just needed a breather, okay? And I made it home just fine.”

“But did you? How do I know someone didn’t follow you?” he asked. Clark’s face flashed in your mind when you stayed quiet. “…Kotyonok, did someone follow you?”

“No one followed me that I know of,” you said. You really didn't have any idea. “But… I did bump into Clark. He was in the neighborhood.”

“Clark? That guy from the shop who tried to give you flowers just happened to be in your neighborhood when I wasn't around?” he asked, fury seeping into his tone as you winced.

“I… I’m sure it was a coincidence,” you said. Placating him in this wasn’t going to work, but you had to try.

“That isn’t a fucking coincidence and we both know it. Did he say anything? Try anything?”

You shut your eyes. It would be like ripping off a band-aid. “He asked me to go get a cup of coffee with him, but I told him I was seeing someone.”

He chuckled humorlessly. “He asked you out?” he asked, making you shift in your seat. “Why the fuck do I not have a file on him yet?!” he snapped at someone in the background.

“I’m working on it, boss!” you heard someone promise. “Should I call-”

“No. I’ll call him myself,” Bucky growled.

Who was he talking about? “Bucky, it’s okay. The guy asked me out and I said no,” you assured him. You weren't going to go out with Clark. “I’m sure women throw themselves at you every day and you turn them down.”

“They don't ‘bump’ into me in my neighborhood. And had you told me you were leaving early, I could’ve made sure this guy didn’t go anywhere near you. I don’t even want him near your shop until I know more about him,” he said, his anger not lessening. “If he tries anything, I will tear him apart piece by fucking piece,” he promised you, the intensity in his tone making your throat go dry.

“That isn’t necessary,” you whispered.

He sighed. “Why would you deliberately put yourself in a spot like this just to prove a point? Be pissed at me, I can take that, but do not risk your safety,” he said, adding in a quieter voice, “I couldn’t take it if something happened to you.”

You bit the inside of your cheek, hating how guilty you felt, how worried he sounded on your behalf. “I’m sorry. I wasn’t trying to worry you,” you said. It was stubborn and dumb on your part, and now you were afraid that Bucky really would try to cancel your day out tomorrow. You couldn’t let him. “I’ll make it up to you, okay?”

“Make it up to me?” he asked. That seemed to get his attention. “How are you going to do that?”

“I’ll…” you began, steadying yourself. Natasha said you had power, and maybe you’d have to test that sooner than you expected. “Stay at your place tonight.”

You could hear a pin drop from the quiet. “You’ll stay the night?” he asked, his voice moving like lava through your veins.

“Yes,” you whispered, hammering the nail in the coffin.

“Give me two hours and I'll come get you,” he said, his voice strained, eager. “Be ready.”

“I will be.”

God, you hoped you knew what you were doing.

Oh, Clark. He's a problem now, isn't he? What do we think Ray told Bucky? And what's going to happen when you spend the night? Love and thanks for reading! ❤️

Masterlist ⚓ Bucky Barnes Masterlist ⚓ Ko-Fi

[kettles-posts]

"Perfect"

A/N:

-fyi guys, It's not spell checked, so please ignore any mistakes. <3

John Price x Reader

"Y'real lucky Cap, got y'self the perfect bird, dont' ya'?"

John rolled his eyes and clicked his tounge in annoyance, he had invited the rest of 141 over for dinner before going out to the pub down the street because he wanted to properly introduce you all.

Now, they had heard of you briefly in casual conversation and vice versa however they never met you, not formally at least, perhaps seeing each other in the halls of the base (when you can to drop of Price's lunch he so ~conveniently~ forgot about) but nothing more than that.

What the great John Price himself didn't forshadow was the way all of his team would fawn over you, yeah you were a doll, HIS doll, he was quickly getting annoyed by the amount of compliments they were giving you, Gaz's especially, so he did the onlybthing he knew to do, deflect.

"The lass has dolled her self up because we have company, normally shes slouching 'round the house, Gaz, they only ever looked like this in the begining, ya know, so dont let yourself be fooled, y'know how the girls are these days,"

What he didn't account for in his little outburst was the effect his words would have on you, who was waiting outside the door...

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

You had always had problems with your looks, always feeling inferior, comparing yourself to others never feeling enough. It was a habit that stemmed from your mother, and her constant need to nitpick at everything little thing about you.

It then progressed to your constant need to be "perfect". To always look presentable no matter who or what was going to be there. A full face of makeup, hair done, and outfit hiding whatever you deemed to be the "problem" parts of you today.

You never trusted anyone enough to show yourself in these moments where you didn't deem yourself to be presentable enough. Always terrified of being judged or ridiculed by someone else just like you did yourself. Always terrified that someone would validate your fears of not being enough.

Thats why when John had first asked you out you thought he was joking, you looked around trying to find his group of friends snickering between themselves. You didn't, of course, but that still didn't stop your hesitation, nor did your hesitation stop his determination.

I mean can you blame him? You were gorgeous standing there in the grocery line looking like the perfect little house wife, sweet and kind, how could you not expecting him to snatch you up before anyone else had the chance.

He was an amazing boyfriend constantly telling you how much he loved you, how beautiful you looked, how loved you were.

He was the first person you managed to be properly comfortable around, able to be less "perfect", you thought that he never judged you for it.

That's why as you when you began to walk to the dining room with a tray of freshly baked lasagne in hand, you were horrified to hear your boyfriend, the one person who you thought didn't care how you looked around him, the one person that made you feel loved. Telling his friends how you "fooled" him into dating you and you were not as "perfect" as you used to be.

In all honesty, you wish you were more shocked. That this senario hadn't played through you head countless times before that you hadn't had a small voice in the back of your mind telling you how you didn't deserve him, how he was only still dating you out of pity.

You had hoped that it would never happen, that it was all just made up in your head. You wished in that very moment that this was all a dream that you could wake up and find John besides you, not talking about you negatively but instead kissing your forehead softly before leaving for the base.

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

But that wasn't the case, you weren't dreaming, he wasn't waking you up sweetly by kissing you on th forehead, and the rest of your boyfriends squad was sitting in the room infront of you.

You had no time to think about that, you needed to be "perfect".

•The "perfect" girlfriend.

•The "perfect" host.

•The "perfect" person.

Always kind and caring, always looking "perfect"...

Before you knew it you were stepping through the threshold of the door to the dining room, a "perfect" smile plastered on your face, your body going through the motions. Your mind was racing but you can't let it show on your face, you have to be "perfect"

--------------------------------------------------‐

You...you, HAD to be... you had nothing else to give, no matter how many times John has compliment you, no matter how many times he told you, that you were enough it's obvious you weren't because if you were then why was he saying that?? Why would he be saying you weren't good enough??

You had let yourself get too comfortable, too happy, you had lost your control, you had forgotten that you needed to be "perfect". You felt sorry for John, he had to deal with you when you weren't.

No wonder he was complaining! It's okay, though, you can fix it. You can ALWAYS fix it. John won't need to feel cheated, like you fooled or tricked him. You just need to get back into your routine.

You just need to be perfect again...

[morgana-larkin]

Alright as it was heavily demanded, here’s part 2 to “Just Tired”. I honestly had no idea that it would get so much interest and so quickly as well. Not edited in the slightest and I hope you like it!

Part 1

Just Tired - Part 2

Warnings: Manipulative relationship, small amount of swearing, confused Mel

Words: 3.1k

Melissa gets home and lets out a sigh before she puts her stuff down and sees Joe on the couch.

“What are you doing home so early?” She asks him and he looks at her.

“Why? Don’t you want to spend time with me?” He asks.

“Of course I do, I-I’m just wondering as you’re normally still at the fire station at this time.” She tells him.

“They sent me home as there was nothing today but I’m still on-call. Where were you? Weren’t you supposed to be here about 20 minutes ago?” He asks her.

“I was driving a coworker home as she was having car troubles.” She explains to him.

“Playing the hero I see.” He says and she looks down.

“Was just trying to help someone.”

“Looking for praise or something?”

“No, just letting you know why I’m home late as you asked.” She says and he gets up and walks over to her.

“I know I asked you, do you think I’m stupid?” He asks her and she shakes her head.

“N-no.” She says and she backs up into the door and he traps her there.

“I really wanted to give you a hello kiss but the fact you think I’m stupid hurt my feelings.” He says and he turns around. She immediately reaches out and grabs his wrist.

“I’m-I’m sorry, I didn’t mean it.” She says and he smiles at her and gives her a kiss before going back to the couch.

“What’s for dinner?” He asks her.

“Leftovers from yesterday.” She tells him.

“Can’t we have something else? The meal wasn’t that good yesterday.” He tells her and she looks upset at his comment before she nods.

“Of course, I’ll go make something else.” She tells him and goes to the kitchen. She goes into the kitchen and hears a show on the tv and she lets some tears escape her and she sniffles a few times before she stops herself and goes to the fridge to see what she can make.

“So do we have any plans this weekend?” Melissa asks him as they have dinner.

“I don’t know, it’s only Tuesday.” He says. “Why?” He asks her.

“No reason, just wondering.��� She says.

“Was there anything specific you wanted to do?”

“No, just making conversation.” She says and he looks at her before nodding.

“Well how about we go to a bar to watch the game this weekend.” He suggests.

“Why do we have to go to a bar to watch it? We can watch it on our TV here.” She tells him.

“You wanted to know about any plans and then when I give you one you immediately shoot it down. Why are you being so controlling?” He asks her.

“I’m not.” She defends herself.

“You are.” He says and she looks down at her now empty plate.

“Alright we can go to the bar.” She gives in and then he gets up and gives her a kiss.

“There, now was that so hard?” He asks her and she shakes her head.

“No.” She tells him and he gives her another kiss before he goes back to the tv. Melissa sighs and then puts her head in her hands.

The next morning, Melissa is getting ready for work and then grabs her things and leaves. She’s driving to work and she’s stuck behind a bus and then she sees you running after it while the bus takes off and leaves you behind. She rolls her eyes and then pulls up at the bus stop.

“Get in.” She calls out to you and you look at her.

“What? Oh hi Melissa.” You tell her.

“Come on, get in, I’m holding up traffic.” She says and you quickly get in as someone is honking behind her and Melissa flips them off. “You realise that you would have been late even if you got on that bus.” She tells you and you sigh before nodding.

“I know, but I forgot to set an earlier alarm.” You tell her and she hums.

“By the way, about yesterday, I’m sorry that I snapped at you, it wasn’t intentional.” She tells you and you look at her.

“It’s alright, I honestly forgot all about it.” You tell her with a smile.

“I know, it’s just that…wait, what?” She asks you confused.

“I forgot that happened yesterday, but just so it’s off of your conscious, I forgive you.” You tell her and she stops at a red light and looks at you weirdly. “What?”

“You just forgive me, so easily?” She asks and you nod. “Why?” She asks and you tilt your head and furrow your eyebrows.

“Because there’s no hard feelings and it wasn’t that bad. I get that you’re a really closed off person and you don’t like talking about your life so you got defensive.” You tell her and you look at her. “Can I ask you something and it’s totally alright if you tell me to fuck off?” You ask her and she nods. “Are you not used to people forgiving you?” You ask her and you see her tense up. “Or not used to someone specific forgiving you?” You add and she lets out a deep breath.

“Yes.” She suddenly says. “My husband.” She adds and you look at her. You then nod and turn back around to see out the window as you don’t want to pry. “He always makes a big show until he even thinks about forgiving me.” She suddenly adds and you turn to look at her.

“Can I ask another question?” You ask her and she shrugs.

“You might as well just go all in.” She says and you chuckle.

“How often do you apologise to him?” You ask her and she thinks about it.

“Well whenever I do something wrong, that changes daily.” She easily says.

“And does he still make a big show even if you apologise?” You ask her and she nods.

“All the time.” She says. “Why are you asking me?” She asks you.

“He sounds a bit like an ass if you ask me.” You tell her bluntly and you see a small smile on her face.

“That’s just married life hon.” She tells you as she pulls into the parking lot. “He loves me and I love him and that’s what matters.” She adds and you both get out. “And one day maybe you’ll have a husband as well and you’ll know what I’m talking about.” She tells you as she starts walking to the school.

“Not really as my husband will be a wife.” You tell her and she looks at you.

“Well if you’re lucky enough to have a wife then you’ll know what I’m talking about.” She corrects herself and you smile at her.

“You know when you let yourself have a crack in your wall then you’re a decent person.” You joke with her and she shakes her head.

“Alright, get in the school.” She tells you and playfully nudges you.

“Oh Y/n, are you still having car problems?” Jacob asks you and you nod.

“Ya, I took the bus this morning.” You say, covering for Melissa and you see her glance your way before turning back to the coffee machine.

An hour later you’re decorating your door when Melissa comes up to you.

“You told them you took the bus.” She tells you and you look at her.

“Yep, I didn’t know if you wanted it on the record that you’re being nice to a newbie, it’s even dangerous that you’re even talking to one right now.” You say playfully and with a smile and she snorts.

“You don’t take anything in life seriously do you?” She asks you and you shake your head.

“Not really.” You say. “That’s probably why the kids are gonna love me.” You say with a big smile and she looks at you.

“Do you love working with kids?” She asks and you nod.

“Love kids, they’re adorable and the things they come up with are really entertaining and interesting.” You tell her as you tape name tags on the door as she’s leaning on the wall and looking at you.

“I can't wait to see how you teach.” She tells you and you look up at her and see her arms are crossed but staring at you.

“Well you know maybe I can learn a thing or two from a seasoned teacher such as yourself.” You say and smile at her.

“We’ll see.” She tells you.

“So I get a maybe? I’ll take a maybe.” You tell her and you don’t notice Janine peeking her head out and staring at you two.

“So I can drive you home again if you want. Unless you prefer running after a bus again.” She offers and you smile at her.

“I’d appreciate that, thank you.” You tell her and she nods.

“Love the crayon name tags by the way.” She says and then walks to her classroom.

Lunchtime comes and Melissa walks into the break room where everyone already is and she sees you in a deep conversation with Janine and Jacob while she walks to the fridge. She grabs the big bowl of leftovers from Monday and puts it in the microwave while “accidentally” eavesdropping on the conversation.

“So you went on a date with an older ginger a month ago?” Janine asks you and you nod.

“She was really hot but we didn’t have much in common. Which is a shame as older gingers are my type.” You tell them and Melissa doesn’t notice the blush on her cheeks when you say that, instead she focuses on putting servings on 5 plates.

“It’s your lucky day you kids. I had quite a bit of leftovers so here’s some gnocchi asparagi e pancetta.” She tells you 3 and also hands Barb a plate.

“Oh, that sounds really good and looks amazing.” You tell her and she looks at you.

“Did you understand everything I told you?” She asks and you nod.

“I took an Italian course as an elective.” You tell her and then you look at the food and take a bite. “Holy crap! This is probably the best thing I’ve ever tasted.” You say and you miss the small blush on Melissa’s cheeks but Barb catches it.

Lunch is over and you were only able to eat half of what she gave you so you pack the extra portion up in your lunchbox and then continue working.

You’re working on your lesson plan when Melissa knocks on your door and you look up at her.

“Why hello Melissa. Twice in one day? If I didn’t know any better I’d say I was growing on you.” You tell her and she shakes her head at you and rolls her eyes.

“Don’t hold your breath, hon.” She tells you and you quirk your eyebrows at her. “I just wanted to ask you if you really liked what I made or if you were just putting up a front because people were there? You can tell me the truth.” She says and you tilt your head.

“You really want the truth?” You ask her and she nods. “Ok the truth is that it’s the best thing I’ve ever fucking tasted! I mean you could be an amazing chef if you wanted.” You tell her. “I mean I’m having the rest of it tonight and my roommate is not getting a single bite.” You say to her and she looks down and smiles. “Why did you think I might have been lying just because people are around?” You ask her and she shrugs.

“I don’t know.” She says softly. “Thanks for telling me the truth, hon.” She says and then goes back to her classroom. You look at your doorway in confusion and wonder about Melissa. Some of her actions seem familiar with something you’ve read about but can’t quite place it. You decide to just leave it alone and continue your lesson plan.

At the end of the day Melissa locks up her classroom and sees you still writing down something. She walks over to your classroom and knocks on the door and you look up at her.

“Hey Melissa.” You tell her. “I know it’s the end of the day but I just need to finish this up.” You tell her and she nods.

“What are you finishing up?” She asks as she walks into your classroom.

“Lesson plan. I want to have the first month planned out so I don’t fall behind.” You tell her.

“Hon, take it from a seasoned teacher, you will fall behind, every teacher falls behind. And you shouldn’t plan so far in advance until you get to know your students, cause you don’t know what they’re like until basically the 3rd week.” She explains to you.

“I don’t even know why I was hired, I have no fucking clue what I’m doing.” You pout and then lay your head on your desk. You miss the smile that Melissa has on her face due to your little freak out.

“Hon.” She says and you turn your head to look at her. “It’s your first year and first time you’re doing this by yourself. Of course you’re nervous, I would be worried if you weren’t. But you’re gonna do great because you’re a good person and the kiddos will love you.” She tells you.

“You’ve known me for 3 days, you don’t know if I’m a good teacher or not.” You tell her.

“Let me see your lesson plan.” She tells you and you prop your head up and hand her the lesson plan. You watch her as she puts her glasses on and then reads it before she sets it back down on your desk. “This is pretty good and I know the kids will have fun on the first week.” She tells you with a small smile. “So come on, let me take you home as you have leftovers to eat.” She tells you and you smile as you remember the food and quickly get your things and follow Melissa out.

“Melissa.” You say as you put your seatbelt on and she looks at you. “You said you live less than a mile away from me.” You start and she nods. “Now you can totally say no but if I walked to your place, would you be willing to drive me to school until I get paid and can put gas in the car?” You ask her and she looks at you and thinks about it.

“Give me your phone.” She says and you take it out and give it to her.

“Why?” You ask her.

“So I can put my number in it and send you my address.” She states.

“Oh, obviously I guess.” You joke and she smiles before she sends a text to her phone so she can save your number to her phone.

“I’ll text it to you when I get home.” She tells you and you nod before you see the nickname she gave herself in your phone and you quirk an eyebrow at her.

“Really? Older ginger?” You ask her and she shrugs.

“Heard that’s what you’re into, so why not.” She says as she pulls out of the parking lot and you laugh.

“I like it, it’ll confuse everyone.” You say and she winks at you. “I can’t wait to eat the leftovers, I’ll guard it so well so my roommate can’t touch it at all.” You say and she smiles.

She drives you home and then you grab your things and get out.

“Thanks again Melissa.” You tell her and she nods.

“I’ll see you at 7am tomorrow at my place. If you’re not there by 7:01 then I’m taking off without you.” She says and you nod.

“That’s fair.” You say and then close the door and walk to your door and go inside.

Melissa drives to her place and goes inside. She takes her things off and lets out a deep breath. She gets her phone out and sends you her address before she goes to the kitchen to pour herself a glass of wine.

An hour later and she’s warming up yesterday’s leftovers when she gets a text.

You: Roommate smelled the food and tried to steal it…👩🏼‍🦱 🥊

Melissa: You punched your roommate?

You: If she didn’t give it back then I would have. Unfortunately it didn’t come to that…been looking for an excuse to punch her lately.

Melissa: I thought I understood you but I don’t think I do

You: I wouldn’t try, I’m an enigma

Melissa: I will understand you at some point

Melissa watches as the 3 dots keep popping up and then disappearing. She decided to continue with the task of heating up the leftovers and then she gets a text from you.

You: Trying to understand me is like you making friends with a newbie

Melissa snorts at that comment and that’s when Joe gets home so she puts her phone away.

“What a day.” He says as he enters the kitchen. “There was a building fire and 5 car accidents today.” He tells her and she looks at him.

“Wow, sounds like a long day.” She says.

“It was. I was thinking we could have dinner on the couch and watch a movie to relax.” He suggests and she hands him a plate of heated leftovers.

“Alright, we can do that.” Melissa tells him.

After they finish dinner, they both stay seated on the couch as the movie is still going. Melissa is leaning an elbow on the side of the couch and resting her head on her hand. She keeps glancing over at Joe throughout the movie and eventually he notices.

“Why do you keep looking at me?” He asks her.

“Why do we never cuddle anymore?” She asks him. “Before we used to cuddle all the time.”

“We never cuddled all the time. And we were different years ago, I just don’t like to cuddle that much.” He tells her.

“You used to love it.” She says softly.

“I never did, I don’t know where you got that idea.” He says to her and she sighs softly.

Later that night, Melissa is lying awake in bed as Joe was asleep beside her. She can’t seem to fall asleep as some thoughts were in her head. Her thoughts got a bit mixed up since you asked if it was a happy marriage and she doesn’t know why she got so defensive. She’s certain she’s happy and they love each other, but there’s a nagging feeling inside of her that she can’t shake. Eventually she ends up falling asleep.

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[holylulusworld]

How to cure a grump (7)

Summary: You’re losing your job on Christmas.

Pairing: CEO/Boss!Bucky Barnes x fem!Reader

Warnings: grumpy Bucky, mistaken identity, kinda fake dating trope, violence, Walker hate, fluff, mentions of being cruel to animals (no description), idiots in love

How to cure a grump (6)

How to cure a grump masterlist

Walking next to Bucky, you try not to show your irritation. He insisted on driving to town to go figure skating with you. You don’t know why yet.

“That’s a nice little town,” he says while looking around the area. “So, this Walker guy was your fiancé?”

“Can you just not?” You huff. The first moment he gets you alone, Bucky must hit you where it still hurts. “I get it. You had to play nice guy all day, and now you want to do what. Tell me Walker could do better than me?”

“What?”

“I already know that, okay,” you sniff. “He knows it too. No wonder he left me for my former best friend. There’s no need to make me feel even worse. I lost my fiancé, my best friend, and my business not so long ago. Now I lost my job and had no other choice than to admit I didn’t make it in the big bad town.”

“Whoa, doll!” Bucky shows his palms and shakes his head. “I didn’t speak about the asshole to tell you he could do better. I wanted to tell you that you can do so much better. He’s a piece of shit, and his face is ugly.”

“I don’t want to talk about him anymore. He’s in the past.” You wipe your eyes with your gloved hand. “Whatever you want to do tonight, you’re free to do it. I can just tell my mom we got into a fight or something.”

“Hey,” Bucky huffs. “Your mom loves me. And who’s going to hate on Walker if I’m not around?” Bucky grins because he made you laugh. “You know, according to rumors, a new guy in town spread, he’s got a tiny dick too.”

“Let me guess.” You furrow your brows. “It was a guy dressed in all black and with a cocky attitude. You know, the kind of man having it all. Minus manners.”

“Right when I thought we were getting along better,” Bucky laughs before he suddenly wraps one arm around your shoulders. “Play along.” He kisses your cheek and murmurs your ex-fiancé’s name.

“This must be fate,” John says while watching Bucky kiss your cheek. He squares his jaw as you instinctively lean into Bucky’s embrace. “How are the odds?”

“Not very high. Only if you are stalking your ex-fiancee and her new boyfriend,” Bucky laughs, but his voice sounds not amused at all. “If you’d excuse us now, we have better people to meet.”

“Do you think you’re better than me?” Walker accuses. He steps closer to you and Bucky, sizing your former boss up. “Your polished shoes and neatly styled hair don’t make you the better man, buddy.”

Bucky’s features darken before he says, “I’m not your buddy. You are the one not getting the hint. Y/N and I wanted to have a moment alone as a pair. But no. You had to come over and act as if you were not the man cheating on her with her best friend. You’re not even close to being a man.”

“Bucky, don’t,” you whisper. “He’s not worth it. Let’s just go and continue our conversation from earlier. I meant it.”

It’s no use. Bucky is unstoppable if someone pisses him off.

“Do you want to know what I see when I look at you?” He laughs in Walker’s face. “A little boy who threw away the best thing ever happening to him. A beautiful, smart, sweet, and damn sexy woman.”

“Only because she lets you fuck her doesn’t mean you’re better than me!” Walker won’t give in. Not when people stop skating to watch your way, nor when his girlfriend tries to stop him.

“That’s exactly what it means,” you finally found your voice. “He’s a better man in any way. He loves me better. He’s doing business better. He’s fucking me better. And his dick is out of this world.”

“You vicious bitch!” Walker steps toward you and Bucky, eyes trained on Bucky’s arm around your shoulders. He can’t take another scratch to his already bruised ego.

“Says the man with a tiny dick.” You wiggle your pinkie in front of Walker’s face. “I can’t believe I let you poke me with that thing.”

Walker huffs and puffs. He’s about to slap your face, but Bucky is quick to step in front of you. Your former boss takes the slap like a champ. He laughs before slamming his right fist into Walker’s face.

Your ex-fiancé stumbles backward. He staggers as he touches his bruised chin. “If you want to at least walk away with what’s left of your ego, leave and never dare to even look my girl’s way.” Bucky takes one step toward Walker.

“Bucky,” you whisper and tug at his arm. “Let’s just go. I think he got the message. Walker was never the smartest.”

“You’re lucky the lady doesn’t want me to beat you into a pulp,” Bucky growls before turning around to wrap his arm around your shoulders. He guides you away from Walker and into the next side street.

“What has gotten into you?” You mutter. “What if that idiot sues you, huh? Did you think about it before punching him for me?”

Bucky grins.

“What is so funny? You’ve got a fucking ton of money. If he hires a lawyer, he could ruin your reputation and—” You can’t end your speech. Bucky presses you against the brick wall behind you to kiss you again, almost desperate to taste you.

Your hands are in his hair, and his arms wrap around your waistline. He moans against you, close to losing himself in the kiss, as a loud meow stops you from doing something stupid.

“What was that?” You pant, your lips tingling from the kiss.

“I—I don’t know,” he says and steps away. Bucky runs his fingers through his strands, messing his neatly styled hair up. “I just…I…”

“I mean the noise, idiot,” you are quick to reply. There’s another meow, catching your attention.

“I heard that too,” Bucky licks his lips. Again, he doesn’t know what came over him. All the fighting over you with Walker turned him into a caveman.

“There!” You say as the meowing gets louder. "I think it's coming out of the dumpster!"

You try to open the dumpster, but Bucky is faster. He opens the dumpster and looks inside. “What the—” He curses as he fishes something out of it. “What kind of person throws a kitten into a dumpster?”

“Oh my…” You coo, seeing the tiny white kitten in Bucky’s hands. “Give the little one to me.”

“No.” Bucky opens his coat to press the kitten to his warm chest. “Who did this to you?” He looks at the tiny creature looking up at him and smiles. “You’re safe now. No one is ever going to hurt you again.”

Watching Bucky talk to the cat, you wonder again. How can he be the same man firing you not days ago?

Tags in reblog.

[georgiapeach30513]

Two Good Reasons, Part 12

Summary: Scott finally calls

Pairings: Andy Barber X Reader

Rating: mature

Warnings:  language, Scott Huffman, drinking, 18+ ONLY

Word Count: 8.4K

Previous

Series Masterlist

*dividers created by @firefly-graphics

“Me pee. Me pee. Me pee,” Suede jumps up from the couch where he had been taking a nap. Ignoring how Andy is chuckling at the little boy sprinting towards the bathroom. Struggling to make it to the bathroom in time.

“Did you make it, buddy?” Andy keeps his laughter light, so his son doesn’t hear him.

“Chess. Me ake it, daddy. More bett-or,” more better always meaning he feels better. Andy returns to his laptop. Getting ahead of next week when he hears the little boy start to walk out of the bathroom.

“Hands, Suede.”

“Ugh,” the dramatic side has to be from Scott. Unless you were a drama queen when you were younger, and he does not think that is even possible. “Me hands cean!”

“No, they’re not. You touched your penis,” you were a bit unsure about the kids knowing the correct terms of their body parts, until Andy explained that there isn’t anything wrong with it, and then there would be no doubt if they need to tell you something.

“Ugh, otay! Me ash me hands,” he stomps up on his stool, starting to play in the water more than wash his hands. His little annoyance is over. He jumps off his stool to dry his hands, and ‘monster walks’ towards your bedroom. Stomping and growling until he stops, and stares at the empty bed. “Daddy!”

“Suedey,” Andy says calmly as the cute little boy walks into the living room. Shrugging animatedly, “What is it?”

“Where my mama at? Daddy, where my mama at?”

“She is in the bed with Audrey taking a nap,” Suede turns to walk towards the stairs, until Andy clears his throat, and Suede turns to face the man that has become his father. “Do not go and wake them up.”

“Me wake!”

“I know you’re awake, but they are not,” Suede huffs before crossing his arms over his chest, and sits on the floor. “You don’t have to be like that. You’re acting all moody. They’ll wake up soon.”

“Me pay,” Suede huffs out, sticking his bottom lip out for emphasis that this is serious.

“You and I can play.”

“You work,” Andy closes his laptop, and sets it on the side table. Returning the biggest smile on the little boy’s face as he jumps up, and runs to get his living room toys. “We pay?”

“Yes, buddy. You and I can play.”

“Mama seep. Audi seep. Why?" His smile gets even larger when Andy sits on the floor with him, so he dumps LEGO bricks onto the coffee table.

“Audrey likes spending time with mama, and mama has what in her belly?”

“Two babieeess!”

“Yes, exactly. And growing babies is a lot of work. So I let mama sleep whenever she gets tired. Audrey thinks she’s going to feel the babies move first. I think that’s why she’s always with her,” Suede shrugs again, and starts stacking brick upon brick. The explanation was enough for him. The more important thing was his daddy was now playing with him.

Before Andy can even start to build, your phone lights up with a call. Andy gives it a bit of acknowledgment before silencing the ring. “Do you like staying at home with mama?” He still hadn’t returned to daycare. You just couldn’t do it, and Andy never pressured you to send him.

“Chess,” is his simple answer. And he scowls when your phone lights up from another call, and the same person. Andy silences it again, sighing when he tries to pay attention to Suede. “Who dat?”

“Someone calling to talk to your mama,” he says, regretfully having to silence it again. He finally gets a moment of rest, until a text comes through. He shouldn’t snoop, but this is from a man that you have called so much in the past couple months. A man you have begged to call his daughter. It’s not snooping, this is scanning the message before you.

’I wish you’d pick up so I can talk to you about seeing my daughter.’

It shouldn’t bother him that Scott didn’t mention Suede at all. He’d terminated all rights to the little boy, and Andy is well on his way to adopt him. Making Suede legally his. Just like you are now legally his wife. A ceremony can happen after the twins are born, but he didn’t want to take any chances with Scott trying something stupid for a bit more control.

Not that he doubted who the twins belonged to. But Andy doesn’t want you to have unnecessary stress. A stress free environment is what you need, and he’s going to do his damnedest to make sure that happens, and these phone calls, and the text should not be happening. Especially since Audrey has quit asking for her dad, for now.

Audrey has been resilient. Almost accepting that her father didn’t want to see her, and the announcement of you being pregnant helped. She always wanted to be with you. Always wanted to help you. She would even bring you things without asking. Watching your water bottle to make sure you stayed hydrated. Needless to say, becoming a big sister again is something she truly wanted.

Andy knows it’s just a distraction at the moment. He knows bedtime is the hardest, and she would ask him or sometimes you about her dad, and when he was going to call, or see her and Suede. She wanted to know when she could tell her dad about you having two more babies. She wanted to tell him what she got for Christmas, even quit asking what she thought he would get her. She is protecting herself by not bringing up Scott, but she is curious.

It’s the one thing Andy truly didn’t understand. The thought that Scott has the ability to get her every other Saturday, currently overnight stays were not allowed until he went through an anger management class. Scott’s ego had been bruised, and instead of being a man, he’d pretended that he didn’t have kids. You warned Andy it wouldn’t last. Once his mom started to ask about the kids, especially her little lawyer, he’d start playing the game again.

Game.

Too many things make Andy sick about Scott, but the way he treats his flesh and blood is the most abhorrent. Andy doesn’t want Audrey to be out of his sight. Wants her to be right here under this roof where he knows she’s safe. She deserved to be home and with people that she loved, and loved her equally back. Not used her as a reflection for his own ego. Scott loved her as long as she was making him look good. And ultimately he determined Suede never would.

Disgusting. There is no other word for a father who can be away from his children like him. Andy missed seeing his family on a daily basis, and it was only for a few hours while he worked. He couldn’t wait to come back home knowing all three of you were waiting on him. Soon it would be all five of you. The difference is Andy always wanted this life, and with you.

“Daddy, my yuv oo,” Suedey smiles up at Andy, scooting just a little bit closer to the man.

“I love you, too, Suedey. To the moon.”

“And yack!”

—

You brush back the baby hairs off your daughter’s forehead. Leaning forward to kiss on the top of her head. You let the sweet tear drift down your cheek as you sniffle. Since telling her you were pregnant, she didn’t want to leave your side. Sweetly demanded that you take naps in her bed with her. You don't care. You love these frozen moments with her. A reminder that she’s still so little and young.

Your sweet amazing little girl is growing up too fast. She may be tiny, but she is mighty. You couldn’t have asked for a better big sister to her brother, and soon more siblings. She is more kind and patient than you could have imagined. Protective and the most loving little human you’ve ever met.

If you could have had her with a different man you would have. Thankfully she has Andy to fill in that empty space her daddy has left. You wipe a tear off your cheeks as you just watch her sleep. She’s so beautiful. The baby that made you a mom, and you could not be more proud.

Here at her home she gets to be the bubbly princess of her dreams. Her imagination here has changed dramatically. Her stuttering has slowed down. And much to Andy’s surprise, she was drawing unicorns, fairies, and castles with his and your help.

“Mommy, your tears are getting me all wet,” you softly laugh as Audrey sits up in her princess bed. The cozy throw still covers the both of you as she stretches, and yawns, “Why are you crying anyways? Is it bad? Are you hurting? Did the babies kick!?” her voice goes higher at the last question. She wants to feel them kick so much.

“I’m just so happy that I’m your mommy,” Audrey gives you a sweet smile before leaning towards you, and hugging you, while snuggling into you. You inhale the soft smell of her sweet pea shampoo, and pull her on top of you.

“Mommy! Am I going to hurt the babies! Oh no!”

“Audrey, if you were going to hurt them, I wouldn’t have done this. Just give me a big ole hug,” she does. Burying herself deeper into your body. “What are we going to have for supper tonight?”

“Daddy said mush, but you said it was going to be chicken and rice with carrots and broccoli. So can we have that instead?” You love hearing her call Andy daddy. One day it just naturally turned into that. You knew it might not stick. That there was this part of her that needed to have a father in her life, and Andy fills that void. He’s always present, and always there for her and Suede. You know that his relationship with your baby boy is such a comfort to Audrey.

“Yes, my darling, we’ll have chicken and rice. Mmm,” you groan, sitting up and stretching. “Shall we go check on your brother and…”

“Daddy. Yes,” she interrupts you, and starts to crawl out of the bed. “You can call him that for me, you know?” It’s the first time that she ever told you that it was okay to acknowledge Andy as her daddy.

“You’re sure?” She nods her head. “You’re really sure?” Audrey giggles, nodding her head more. “You’re completely positive I can refer to Andy as your daddy?”

“Suede calls him that, and the twins will, too, so why can’t I?” You can’t argue with that logic. You didn’t care about Scott’s feelings anymore. May his balls smell and itch, and Taylor doesn’t want to have sex with him. “I think daddy suits him.”

“Me, too,” you answer with the utmost sincerity. Being a father is the sexiest you’ve ever seen Andy. “Come on. I think you and Suede need to play in the living room, while daddy and I get dinner going. And I’m cooking this all in the oven, so when it’s in there, we get to play with you, too.”

“Yes!” She screams, darting to the door. Her little feet pad to the stairs too quickly for Andy’s liking.

“Princess, don’t you run down those stairs,” you hear your now husband tell her, and her footsteps slow down. No screaming, and no condescending tone. Stretching again, you get her bed back in proper order before heading downstairs yourself. The quicker you get dinner in the oven, the quicker you get to spend time with your family.

Lazy Sundays are your absolute favorite. Until you’re met at the bottom of the steps by Andy. Instead of his warm smile, his brows are lifted, and the lines in his forehead seem deeper, “I just woke up. I don’t…”

“Scott called,” you gulp, looking to the living room to see Audrey and Suede happily playing with toys out in the open. They are happy. Audrey has dealt with the absence of her father. It hasn’t been easy, but is he wanting to talk to her, and then be absent again? If he’s coming into her life you want consistency. Him being gone almost broke her.

“Honey,” Andy says softly, pulling you in for a deep hug. He holds you so tight against him, rubbing your back as you let the tears of anger and frustration spill from your eyes. “Shh, let's go into the kitchen,” you nod, following him away from the joyous laughter, while you want to scream. Rage.

He lets the door to the kitchen close before issuing the softest kiss to your forehead. “Tell me what he said,” your voice is already flat and hoarse as he hands your phone to you. “He called six times before the text?”

“Well, five times, a text, and then a call again. With a voicemail. He won’t talk to you that way,” Andy’s voice is stern as he glares at your phone. If he could, he’d make Scott disappear forever.

“Scott is going to talk to me however he wants,” you answer nonchalantly. You’ve heard worse, and from him.

“He will not talk to you that way,” Andy repeats himself with a much more agitation in his tone. “I get that he has rights to his daughter,” Andy’s nose flares, and his hand resting on the counter top flexes. His knuckles go white as he tries to calm down. “But he will not talk to my wife that way. We can go about this calmly and like adults, or he can go back to supervised visits.”

“That won’t help anything. So he wants our daughter this weekend. I have to give him that access, and then he brings her back home to us at the end of the day?” Andy nods his head, his arm starting to relax. “Can we make him be consistent with this? Every other Saturday always. She just stopped calling Ransom in the middle of the night.”

“We can keep a record of his involvement. But there’s only so much we can do when it’s court mandated,” you roll your eyes, needing to busy yourself with preparing dinner. “Doe, I’m sorry.”

“And how do you think it’s going to go when he takes Audrey, and not Suede?” it’s the thing that had been bothering Andy the whole time he was waiting on you to wake. “She is even more attached to him than ever before. And what about Suede? I think he’s fully accepted you as his father, but he’ll be taking his sister away. And what if he realizes, that man didn’t want me. Ow!” You drop the knife onto the counter. This is why you shouldn’t cut vegetables when angry.

Andy is so fast to react. He’s by your side in a split second, pulling your hand to the sink, letting cold water run over your finger as he kisses your temple, and you can’t control your tears. “It’s not fair to either one of them. It’d be better off if he gave up rights to both of them. I know this is going to be a shitshow, and you’re — you’re telling me there’s n-n-n-nothing I can do?”

“Unfortunately,” his answer is so somber as he pulls out a drawer that holds a mini first aid kit. “You know I will fight like hell to get all of this resolved legally. And in time, he’ll grow bored of Audrey.”

“At Audrey’s expense,” grow bored of his daughter. How? She is amazing! She’s perfect and growing and changing so much. Scott would rather opt out of the minor hard things because of the inconvenience while also missing out all these small little moments of laughter and love that make it all worth it.

“I know. We have to be patient. If I could do anything, do you not think I would?” He kisses your bandage finger, and looks deep into your eyes. “There is nothing I wouldn’t do for you or our kids,” Andy emphasizes ‘our’, extending that word to Audrey as well. You’ve never doubted his love and protection towards both your children. You’ve witnessed it. “But we have got to follow the law. We could be held in contempt of court, and that won’t happen. So trust me on this. But I will tell you again, that man will not talk to my wife that way. And I will make it perfectly clear how he will not do that. I don’t want him calling your phone back to back, leaving angry voicemails, or even the texts. One phone call, one voicemail, or one text. And honey, you’ll have to pick up when he calls if you can, okay?”

“Yes, sir,” your face starts softening, and he pulls you in for a bruising kiss. Holding onto your belly as he swirls his hands over your little bump. No wonder you're growing at a faster rate than the previous pregnancies. You’ve got two beautiful babies in there. Beautiful babies that you and Andy created out of the most passionate and sweet love.

“Don’t be cheeky.”

“Yes, sir,” he swats your ass with his free hand before pushing you away from the cutting board. “Dinner!”

“You’re injured. Sit down and watch me or go play with the kids.”

“I do really like watching you,” he rolls his eyes as he smiles, washing his hands to take over dinner prep. “Andy, you know I trust you. This is just the hardest thing I’ve ever had to deal with, okay?”

“I know,” he responds as you gulp. How did you get so lucky to find this man twice? Two times in your life you got to love him, and he never doubted that you would find each other again. Waited on you because he knew you were the one. He’s better than any man you could have imagined for yourself, but especially for your children.

“Mommy?” Audrey watches you flitter about, packing her a backpack, and you are too cowardly to even tell her why. Choosing to ignore the question in her voice when you slip her iPad mini into her bag. “Mommy, where we going?”

You aren’t sure. Just with her dad. He could take her to his apartment. He could take her to soft play. Maybe to the park. “Is Suede going?” you shake your head no, still unable to fully look at her.

“So is it with Uncle Ann?” Her voice gets so light and excited as she runs to her closet. “He said he was going to take me and to see a movie with Miss Tatum. Can I wear a pretty dress? Make sure to pack my Madeline doll he got me, and a blanket. It gets cold in the theater. Are you and daddy taking Suede somewhere? Uncle Ann said a movie might be too long for him, but he’d take us to soft play with Miss Tatum. I can’t wait.”

“Baby, you’re not going with Uncle Ann.”

“So is this a me and you day?” You shake your head no again, sitting on her princess bed as you rub along the swell of your belly. “I don’t understand.”

“Audi, your dad is going to spend the day with you,” she stares at you a bit confused at the statement.

“But why can’t you and Suede go with us?” The lines of course will be blurred as to who you are referring to. She hadn’t so much as heard from Scott in months, much less seen him. “Mommy?”

“Not your Andy daddy.”

“Oh,” she sits down immediately on the floor as her brows pitch up. Trying to work through her feelings while you just watch her. Giving her some space to figure this out, “But why — why not Suede, too?”

“Umm, your father,” it’s best to differentiate by using that word. Daddy is too sweet of a title for him. A title he never deserved, “He — well, he is going to allow Andy to adopt him.”

“Can Andy adopt me?” There’s a soft smile that tugs at her lip that makes you hurt. You would prefer that Andy adopt Audrey as well.

“No, it’s not that simple.”

“Then how come he gets to adopt Suede?”

“Because your father felt it was in his best interest to not be Suede’s dad,” Andy says in the doorway. You’re thankful that he didn’t leave you to drown on this.

“But I want you to adopt me like Suede. That’s not fair,” her arms cross over her chest and she pouts. “Y-y-y-you said that we do things as a family. And adopting him, and not me, is not being a family. That means I don’t match.”

“What do you mean not match?” You try to keep your tears inside of you. She isn’t wrong, this isn’t fair. It’s confusing. Especially to a child that is intelligent and can piece this puzzle together. Knowing your child she will fixate on this conversation. She’ll come up with a scenario on what’s wrong with her, or what’s wrong with Suede. But the reality is her father is what’s wrong.

“Well, if daddy adopts Suede what will his last name be?”

“Barber,” Andy says stoically. He walks over to Audrey, and kneels down before her.

“And the twins, what is their last name?”

“Barber,” you already know where her brain is going, and it pains you. Scott is beyond selfish, especially where Audrey is concerned.

“And you — your name is already Barber now. So I’m the only Huffman. That is not fair. That is not doing things as a family. And if I go to his house how will I know that Suede is breathing? Y-y-y-you can’t watch him all the time. Where is Suede now? Who is checking on his breathing? I-I-I-I can’t trust you to make sure he doesn’t have an allergic reaction. That that that that is my job as the big sister. And and and and and and,” her cheeks turn ruddy as she tries to catch her breath. The stutter you thought was gone now returning with one mention of her father, and her stress.

Scott deserves to hear these words. He should know the anxiety that he has caused his daughter concerning her brother’s breathing. A worry that she shouldn’t have as a five-year-old.

“Audi, princess, I need you to breathe for daddy, okay?”

“Am I allowed to still call you daddy?”

“I told you, you get to call me whatever it is you want.”

“But my last name isn’t Barber. I don’t like this. I don’t want to go to his house. I want to stay with you. He he he he he didn’t tell me Merry Christmas. He didn’t didn’t didn’t didn’t make sure Suede was okay. And he doesn’t doesn’t doesn’t doesn’t ever tell me he loves me. He never never never never does,” you look towards Andy, begging him without words to not make her go. He never says he loves her. He could not tell you when you were married, but she’s a baby.

“And if if if I’m not here I can’t can’t feel my twins move first. And — it’s not fair! I hate you and I hate him!” Screaming she stands up, and pulls the bag out of your hand, throwing it across the room. “I don’t want to go! Do you not want me?”

“Baby, I want you for always,” you tell her. Struggling to talk yourself. You hate Scott. Hate the emotional turmoil that he has always put your daughter in. “But Scott has a right to see you.”

“Then he should have. But he didn’t. Not even at Christmas. Don’t make me go. No! Mommy is that him? I don’t want to go! Don’t make me,” The doorbell rings, and you watch Suede dart past her bedroom door, followed by Andy who scoops him up before he gets to the stairs. “No no no no, mommy, don’t make me go. What if I miss something here?” Tears trail down her face, and you pull her into your body. Wishing you could change this. A few hours seemed so long. Too long to be away from her family.

“We won’t do anything without you here. We’ll be waiting on you until Scott brings you back later.”

“I don’t have to sleep there?” in a perfect world she wouldn’t even have to go there.

“No, baby. Your father has homework to do before he can keep you overnight. It’s just for a few hours. Okay?”

She nods her head, and pulls away from your embrace, “I don’t hate you.”

“I know you don’t, baby. Come on. Let’s go see your father.”

She grabs onto your hand without a second thought. Holding you almost too tight while you pick up her bag, and walk towards the stairs. Parenting is always going to be hard, but this is a slow torture. It will only be six hours, and yet you feel like you’re going to be without her for an entire year. He’d missed so much, and didn’t even care. Your children were always a leverage to him. You wanted them, and he wanted them to hurt you.

“No!” Suede screams as he shakes his head at Andy. “No, daddy, no. No, ike that!” Andy’s grip on Suede gets tighter as he tries to comfort his son, instead of saying how he knew he didn’t like the man at the door.

“Scott, wanna come in?”

“No,” he answers shortly. Staring off into the distance because he can’t look at his biological son. Andy loathes him. The games he plays at the expense of his children are sick. It’s evil. They are his flesh and blood, and he can be so callous with them.

“Wow,” he says with no enthusiasm as you and Audrey walk into his view. “You sure didn't waste any time, I see. Shocking really. You weren’t supposed to be able to get pregnant. You sure…”

“Yes, the twins are mine. And it was all natural,” you’re not in the mood for a fucking pissing contest. Your first little love is distraught and has mixed emotions, and you were not in the mood for this. You just want to close the door on Scott, and pretend this didn’t happen.

“Audrey, let's go,” he’s so cold. No, ‘hey, I missed you. We’re going to have fun.’ Just let’s go because I lawfully deserve this.

“Do I have to?” She asks, looking up at you.

“Yes, you have to, unless you want your mom in jail. Now, let's go. I’ve got your Christmas presents.”

“Me yoys?” Suede asks, looking at Andy, and you see Scott rolls his eyes at him. Reacting with anger will only make this worse. Audrey needs you to be the strong one, the steady one, the one that she can rely on when her father fails her. “Daddy, me yoys, too?”

“Still can’t talk right,” he wants to piss you off. He wants to be hit. He is provoking both you and ANdy.

“He talks just fine,” Audrey furrows her brows, and steps away from him. “Say you’re sorry.”

“We gotta go. Get out of the house, and let’s get in the car.”

“No!” She stomps her foot, grimacing as she stares at him.

“You need to tell our daughter it’s time to go.”

“And you need to watch how you talk to my wife.”

“Wife?” Scott chuckles, and snaps his fingers at Audrey.

“I am not going with you. Say you’re sorry!”

“I don’t have time for these fucking games. Now get in the goddamn car.”

“Enough!” You scream to everyone in the room. The chaos of the conversation is making your heart race, and your emotions are at their limit. “Scott, you won’t come here disrespecting my home, and my family. That goes for Suede, Andy, and Audrey. She asked you to apologize to her brother.”

Scott hadn’t tried to set foot in the house, leading you to believe that he isn’t going to. He declined the invitation. If this is another one of his games to say he tried to get Audrey, but you refused, you’ll scream. It seems he came here just to start a fight so you would demand he couldn’t take her.

“Audrey is really confused and upset about how things have transpired. You haven’t returned any of her calls or her text messages since her birthday. So you will have to forgive her for her behavior. Everyone here is helping with Suede’s speech, and it’s improved. He speaks in sentences. So you constantly being rude about it doesn’t help. Now everyone, just breathe, and let's do this in a calm manner.”

“You can’t keep her from me.”

“I’m not trying to. I am making sure my daughter feels comfortable when she leaves, and she asked you to right one wrong.”

“I’m her father,” something he’ll never let you forget.

“Then act like it,” you warn him, and give a small squeeze to Audrey’s hand. “Apologize to her brother.”

“Sorry,” Scott gruffs out, and Suede is already playing with Andy’s beard to pay him any mind. “Audrey, let’s go.”

“And do not use foul language in front of her. She’s five, in case you forgot,” Scott only nods his head, holding his hand up for Audrey to take.

“Mommy?” His sorry was pathetic. But you can’t hold her from him. You won’t be the one that didn’t put effort in their relationship.

“I expect you to bring her back here by three o’clock,” Scott nods, wiggling his fingers towards Audrey. “And she has her iPad mini, and some toys. So if you need us, call us. We’ll be there in a second to get her early, or whatever.”

“Three?” You nod your head at Audrey, knowing she’s going to watch her iPad like a hawk now. “You promise to bring me back home?”

“Yes,” Scott answers, annoyed. Why he wanted kids is beyond you. Seeing how he easily can dismiss both of them is appalling.

“Mommy, daddy, Suedey, I love you.”

“Love you, princess,” Andy glares up at Scott as he gives Audrey a hug. A silent warning that he better behave. Scott’s aware of Andy’s influence and power. Andy gives her a chance to hug Suede before she’s reaching for you.

“If you need me, call me, baby.”

“She’s not a baby,” you ignore him. She will always be your baby. Forever will be your baby. And you’ll protect her however you have to. You hope this is the last visit Scott requests. You‘re sure his pride is hit so hard from this, and you pray it’s enough for him to just wipe his hands. Let him live his child free life that he seems to love.

“I will. I’ll call,” she sniffles, and pulls away from you. This is the hardest it’s ever been to let her go. Scott better show her more kindness than he has been. You won’t let him continue to get her. You’ll come up with something. You want her safe, and feel secure in her feelings. Hearing her stutter come back pains you. She is too young to have to deal with these big emotions. It’s too complicated, and she shouldn’t have to try and navigate them. You just hope this is a short visit. Less than the allotted six hours.

You’ll miss her every second she’s away with your phone glued to your hand. She would be okay. She would be okay. And you have to keep reminding yourself until it comes true. She will be okay.

“Has she called Ransom?” Andy hasn’t even got Ransom’s response before you nervously ask again. “Andy?” he looks up from his phone shaking his head. “I’m calling Scott again. He’s thirty minutes late. She is supposed to be Here at three. Andy, what do we do?”

“Audi at?” Suede pouts, stomping his foot. “My Audi at? Oo yie.”

“I did not lie, buddy. She was supposed to be here. Doe,” Andy’s thick fingers rub over his beard as he thinks. “Come on. We’re going to his house, and we’ll go get our girl.”

“Yay! Go to sissy!” Suede sprints towards the garage, and you grab his cup just in case. Ready to start pacing. Scott probably lost track of time. But him not answering his damn phone makes you uneasy. And Audrey hadn’t called anyone from her iPad. This isn’t like her. And something in your gut makes you queasy, and you don’t think it’s the twins.

“He can’t keep her from us. You have the upper hand here.”

“I don’t want to fight about my daughter though. I would be okay if he told me what was going on. But nothing. That, I don’t like,” the two of you walk into the garage, and you can’t help but smile at Suede already in his seat with his straps on, but not buckled. “Let’s go get our princess.”

—

“No! No no! No yike it hewe! No, daddy!”

“We’re not staying, buddy. We’re just getting Audrey,” Suede’s anxious face turns into a fake smile. If there’s one thing you would change about your life it would be leaving Scott before he got caught cheating. You tried to pacify him for too long. Let him get away with playing games with you, and also your children, all because you felt it was the right thing.

“I’ll go get her,” Andy says, leaning over to give you a kiss. You just want to know your daughter is safe, and had fun. You didn’t want to see Scott. Didn’t want to hear him. All you want is her safe with you. Andy could be the diplomatic one, while you’re acting all on emotions due to the pregnancy and the weird urgency you feel to have her in your arms.

He walks up the few steps to the house, a vastly different feeling than the first time he did this. He was supposed to be just bringing your wallet home. He gives the door a knock, and Scott slings it wide open swaying with the swift movement, “What?”

“You missed drop off time.”

“Yeah, well, I went to you to pick her up. Seems fair for you to come here,” he shrugs, doppily he rocks on his feet.

“You okay?”

“You know, Barber, I’m really not okay. My tramp of an ex wife blamed the divorce on me. And yet here she is, married to you, and you fucked a damn bastard in her belly,” Andy growls, glaring at the man. “I didn’t want another child after the fucking mistake of having a second one. What she doesn’t know won’t hurt her, am I right?” He winks at Andy, and Andy’s anger towards Scott grows. The bastard lied. You weren’t the problem. He was. He got a fucking vasectomy and blamed you for not getting pregnant.

”But you know you ruined everything. I don’t even have someone to carry on my fucking name, and you, you son of a bitch do, and Suede’s not even your fucking mistake. If he wasn’t born, we’d still be together. She changed after him.”

“Audrey! Grab your things, princess, it’s time to go,” Andy wants his daughter, and wants out there. Scott always wants a fight. Low blows. The asshole.

“I’m not finished with you, you prick. I hope you always remember that my wife took me whenever I wanted her. She was a submissive little bitch.”

Andy pulls Scott closer to him by his shirt, getting right into his ear, “You better watch your goddamn mouth when you're speaking about my family. Sober the fuck up. Next time you can’t contain your fucking drinking, call me, and I’ll pick up my daughter. Have I made myself clear?” Andy pushes him off him slightly, but it’s enough to have Scott stumbling backwards before he falls on his ass, and Audrey runs straight to Andy trembling.

Pushing herself tightly against her dad, and he picks her up, letting her wrap her arms around his neck, “Audi, you okay, princess?” He feels her shake her head no, and he continues glaring at Scott who tries to get his wits about him, but instead stumbles again as he tries to stand again. “Taylor here?”

“She left.”

“Slut! She’s such a fucking slut. Spreading her legs for…”

“Audrey, go out to the car, and tell mommy to call the cops, okay?” Her body continues to shake. She might not understand what’s going on with Scott, but she knows it isn’t right.

“Is he in trouble?”

“I just want to make sure someone can babysit him. He looks unwell.”

��He had a bottle with him.”

“Audrey,” he sits the little girl down, and she runs towards the car. As soon as she’s out of eyesight, Andy squats down to Scott, “You done fucked up, you little prick. You carried a bottle around, while you got yourself drunk and my daughter was here with you.”

“My daughter.”

“You’re not even man enough to tell her you’re unwell. All this shit piling up on you Scott, is your fault. Not my wife’s, and certainly not my kids. Drink yourself into oblivion, I don’t care. But not around her.”

“You can keep the stupid one. Oh,” Scott coughs when Andy kicks his side. Not enough to leave a bruise, but enough to get some instant gratification. It takes a very small man to make fun of a child, “He’s not right. He’s nothing but trouble. You’ll see. She’ll always love that kid more than you.”

“See the difference is I know that my kids need her in a different way than I need her. I know that she’ll tend to them because of that need for her. I’m an adult. I don’t need her to feed me, take care of me. I don’t need her. I want her. I cherish her. I worship the ground that she walks on. You had it all. You had the most perfect woman.”

“Pregnancy fucked her body up,” pregnancy made you more desireable to Andy. Your soft curves, the glow on your face, the way you loved being a mom. No wonder Scott went younger. You were the respectable wife, when all he wants is a sex toy with no attachments.

“I think that was you,” Scott’s eyes roll in the back of his head as the lights of a cop car come into view. Just another thing Andy has to deal with, instead of comforting his family. He’ll calmly give a statement. Having a legal document of Scott’s inebriation while in charge of Audrey. “Fuck you, Scott,” Andy groans as he turns to meet the officer. He needs to ease your mind that he’s okay. Let you see that you’re not hurt.

Scott Huffman will regret today. If anything happened to Audrey there would be hell to pay. Supervised visits will be pushed. Incidences like this will not happen again. Scott spiraled and spiraled until he turned to his main vice, alcohol. He’ll regret today. And every day after if he continues to talk about you or the children like that.

“What do you mean she won’t talk to us?” You demand, trying to walk up the stairs to Audrey. “Andy Barber, you let me go see my daughter. Andy! Move, please!”

“She’s asked for Ransom,” you roll your eyes, growling as you try to push past him. “Ransom was going on a date with Miss Tatum.”

“So then I need to see my child,” he’s really getting on your nerves trying to block you.

“And Ransom said that he didn’t mind if she came with them, so he’s on his way here.”

“But that’s my daughter. And she — what happened? What happened? And why did I need to call the police?” You waited for it to be just you and Andy. But you need to know.

“Mama, yook!” Suede holds up a tower of LEGO bricks he built, but you just want to talk with your daughter. You need to hold her, and just show her love and comfort.

“Doe, I think she wants Ransom because you are all emotional,” you huff, trying to skirt past him quickly, but he blocks you again. “I would rather her talk to us. She isn’t physically hurt. She’s upset, and asked for Ransom. Ran is the ADA, and he’ll know the right way to talk to her, and if there’s anything wrong he will call and bring her home. But can you give her this safe space with him?”

You don’t like it, even though Andy is right. She’s willing to talk with Ransom, and getting out of the house and with her teacher could be a good thing. “He’s getting her an hour before picking up Tatum. That way she won’t feel obligated to talk in front of her.”

“Why didn’t she call? She called none of us. Not even Suede. Can you at least tell me what’s going on?”

Andy’s Adam’s apple bobs as he looks from you to the floor. Contemplating if he wanted to tell you at all. It has to be bad, and your mind is going everywhere, and you’re unsure if it’s close. “He was very drunk.”

“Son of a bitch,” Andy pulls you in so tight to his body. Your anger instantly spurring tears. You want Scott to physically hurt as bad as he makes your daughter hurt emotionally. She had to have been so scared and confused. Scott is an angry drunk, and you never would want her to witness that.

“Mama, what ong? Daddy, mama cy?”

“Mama’s okay, buddy. Hey, can you go make me a dragon?” Suede shakes his head no, and pulls at your pants. “Make daddy a really big tower for us to knock down.”

“Chess!” He screams, running back into the family room.

“She wasn’t hurt?” Your voice is so weak. He’ll never see her again if you have anything to say about it. Now you understand the reason for the cops. Andy was documenting that Scott was drunk while Audrey was there. Bastard. The low son of a bitch bastard.

“She wasn’t physically hurt. I think it’s more to deal with her heart. The disappointment runs deep, and she didn’t even want to leave Suede.”

“But my baby,” her sperm donor sucked. You knew he sucked, but this is at an entirely different low than you were expecting. You know Scott drinks, and drank. But to be drunk for the few hours that he got her. And after months of being away. He chose then to subject her to drunken stupidity. And he was always such a sloppy mean drunk. “I hate him so much.”

“But our baby is okay. Let Ransom get her, I’ll put in her seat, and he can try and talk to her. He is her safe space because we’re too emotional. And…”

“Ransom buys her what she wants,” you laugh so weakly as you try and process everything. You knew something was wrong. “And maybe he can find out why she didn’t call. That’s not like Audrey.”

“Andy, you promise that not a hair on her head was hurt while she was there,” you ask as you pull your face off his chest. “I will…”

“Shh, no talking. Just know I had the same exact thoughts. Let’s go see our boy. There’s a baby monitor in Audrey’s room. Here,” you whisper a thanks to him as he pulls you away from the stairs. It isn’t the most ideal thing. But, it’ll do. You hope, pray, and beg that Ransom can find out exactly what happened. And so help you God if Scott drove in the car with her while drunk...

—

“Audi?” Audrey quickly looks out the window, leaving Ransom to only glance at her in the rear view mirror. She’d been fidgeting the moment she got in the car, but never said anything. “Audrey, you want to talk about what happened?”

“I would really like a dog,” Ransom glances back at her again and she’s looking directly at him. “I know mommy has two babies in her belly, but I would like a dog. A bigger one. One that can be my protector.”

“Do you feel you need protection?” Words are important. Kids say a lot even when they’re not saying the thing you think you’ll hear. Audrey mentioning a dog for protection says a lot.

“Suede isn’t allergic to dogs. I asked mommy again. I don’t want a mean dog, just one that loves me.”

“Audrey.”

“If you buy me a dog — I will talk,” of course she would mention something such as this, leaving Ransom unable to say no. She plays him more than Suede does. She knows just how wrapped he is.

“You want our date to be at the dog shelter?” Audrey smiles, but only briefly, and nods her head. “Audrey, you want to tell me what happened?”

“I don’t like him,” she answers, crossing her arms across her chest. “He’s mean to my mommy, and — Andy daddy. And he says mean things about Suede,” her brows furrow, showing so much more her age than her size. A little girl who has been through too much in too short of a time. “He was drinking from a square bottle. And Taylor and him started screaming at each other. She told him he was stupid, and he said that he never wanted…”

Audrey’s words stop abruptly, and her face scours up. “If I say it will you be mad?”

“No, baby, I won’t be mad at you for telling the truth.”

“He said he never wanted any fucking kids. He just wanted to make sure my mommy didn’t leave,” she wipes her cheeks off, while Ransom turns into a shopping center. Pulling the car over, and parking before he crawls in the back seat of the car, and letting her out of her seat. The tiny little girl crawls into his lap, wrapping her arms around him.

“What does that mean?”

“It means he doesn’t deserve you, and never deserved your mom.”

“He threw my iPad, and it’s broke, and I couldn’t call anyone,” her tears soak his neck, and he starts rocking her back and forth. Thinking of ways that he could end Scott, even if he has to hire someone. Prick of a man that wants to treat anyone ‘smaller’ than him like that. And his own daughter. Ransom would murder someone to protect your children.

“I hate him so much. He’s so mean. Don’t make me go back there ever again. I can’t. I don’t want to leave my brother, and what if Andy gets to feel the babies move first? I hate him so much.”

The need for her to have a protective dog makes so much sense. But it’s not even that, she needs someone to read her own moods. You have a fear that her anxiety is going to manifest into something stronger. Depression in children is far too common now. Her perfectionist nature already is starting to cause outbursts of frustration. And she’s five! With too much responsibility that her father bestowed upon her.

“Audrey, you know we all love you, princess. And your Andy daddy, mommy, and me, we are going to do everything in our power to make sure you are safe and loved, and with your mommy,” it is in everyone’s best interest that Audrey stay with you. Scott was the scum of the earth. Admitting that he didn’t want children, in front of his golden child…

The man had clearly spiraled after not getting his way. Even at work. His good fortune had run out. And either legally he would be kept from Audrey, or Ransom would have to deal with things his family’s way.

Audrey leans back, sniffling, but smiles up at Ransom. Appearing fine, and okay now, but he knows better. Audrey has a tendency to make sure others are okay, even at the expense of herself. “Can Miss Tatum help me pick out a dog?”

“Yes, princess. I think Miss Tatum would love to help look at the dogs. Are you hungry?” She shrugs, crawling out of his lap and into her seat. “We’ll get Tatum, and have us a small lunch, and head to the shelter, okay?”

“If I have a dog, does that mean I can’t go to — dad’s house?” She looks down at her lap, pulling on her straps, and buckling herself in. “I can’t leave the dog alone, and dad doesn’t like dogs.”

“Yeah, I think that’s possible,” it’s possible for Scott to have his balls ripped off his body.

“And you won’t tell mommy I said that word?”

“No, your secret is safe with me. Does he say that word a lot?”

“He says lots of words when he drinks out of the square bottle. He’s not nice. And I don’t like how mean he is to Suede and mommy. I think he hates daddy, too. He calls him — a, um…a goddamn prick.”

Scott keeps on ticking more and more reasons to hate him. No fear. He will be dealt with. And for Scott’s sake, he better hope the courts deal with him first. “Come on, let’s get Tatum, lunch, and a dog.”

“I want a girl. And she’s my dog, okay?”

“Yes, I think Suede is too little. And I think we need to go to the Apple Store,” Audrey smiles at Ransom as he makes his way to the front seat. “Now, I know that Suede has the mini, but he’s just so little. You’re really into drawing now?” She nods her head, and reaches over for the Madeleine doll she brought for the trip. Giving the little stuffed girl a hug. “I think we should get you something bigger, and a pencil. But this isn’t something for you to tease Suede with okay?”

“Uncle Ann?”

“Hmm?”

“I like that idea, but I don’t want something Suede can’t have. I’ll just take a mini, since I’m getting a dog,” the kindness this little girl has in her pinky is more than most have in the entire world. She is too soft, and deserved to stay that way.

“Okay, princess.”

“And maybe text daddy. He’ll let mommy know about the dog.”

“Good idea,” Andy could ease you into the idea. It isn’t a conversation you as a family haven’t had. You liked the idea of a dog. Your kids have so much space out here it just makes sense.

Next

Masterlist

Taglist: @tis-thedamn-season @marveloustaylortot @pono-pura-vida @peaches1958 @seitmai

@smile1318 @andydrysdalerogers @cjand10 @midnightramyeoncravings @kmc1989

@pandaxnienke @kmm-fluv @rogersbarber @theinheriteddutchess @buckybarnesisdaddy

@hisredheadedgoddess28 @capswife

[allthingsfangirl101]

Wedding Nerves – Glen Powell

Glen and I met over two years ago. We dated for a year and a half before he asked me to marry him. After the planning and rescheduling due to Glen's filming schedule, we finally were getting married today. I finished my makeup and hair before my bridesmaids helped me get into my dress. When everything was done, I slowly walked toward them.

"You look gorgeous!" My maid of honor giggled. I couldn't help but spin around.

My bridal party started giving me compliments and fixing little things. Suddenly, we were interrupted by a sporadic knock on the door.

"I'll get it!" My maid of honor said, still smiling. When she went to get the door, I couldn't hear them at first. The only thing I heard was, "We have to tell her!"

"Tell me what?" I asked as I walked towards the door. I froze when I saw Jeff, Glen's best man, standing in the doorway. "Jeff, what's wrong?"

"Y/N," he sighed as he jogged toward me and gently grabbed my hands.

"What's wrong?" I asked, my heart now in my throat. "What's happened? Is it Glen? Is he okay? Where is he?"

"We don't know."

I pulled my hands out of his and took a step back. "What do you mean?" I asked, my voice soft. "Jeff, where is Glen?"

"I have every groomsman looking for him," he tried to reassure.

"Glen's gone?!"

I covered my mouth and turned away when all my bridesmaids walked into the front room and started panicking. Between angry threats and overly reassuring comments, it got too much. I struggled to decide whether to scream, cry, throw up, or all three. Before I could really decide, Jeff's phone started ringing.

"Hello?" He answered instantly. "Really? That's great."

"What's great?" I asked.

"Adam found him," Jeff explained, still holding his phone to his ear.

"Where is he?"

"He's on the beach. Adam is going to. . ."

I didn't wait for him to finish. Instead, I turned and ran out the sliding glass door that opened to the beach. I searched the beach and the second I saw him, I sprinted toward him.

I slowed down when I got close. It was then that I saw him on the beach, in his suit, running his fingers through his hair, and murmuring to himself. I completely stopped when I was about six feet from him.

"Glen?"

He instantly spun around when I said his name. "Y/N," he gasped.

"What are you doing out here?" I asked, my voice breaking. "Are you. . . Are you leaving me?"

"No!" He said quickly. He closed the gap between us and grabbed my hands. "I would never ever leave you, darling."

"The guys couldn't find you," I started to nervously ramble. "And they came and told me. I'm not sure why Jeff told me, but he did. Maybe it's because we're getting married in an hour. . . Or we were supposed to get married in an hour."

"Y/N," he gently cut me off. "I didn't mean for. . . I wasn't going to. . . I told Jeff that I was going for a walk and would be back. I guess he got nervous. I am so sorry, baby."

"Will you please tell me what's going on?" I asked, my voice breaking.

"I wasn't overthinking you," he said firmly. "I wasn't doubting my love for you. I was doubting me."

"What are you talking about? Glen, you're scaring me."

"I'm really sorry, honey," he sighed. "I've been thinking about our life together and. . . Wow. You look so beautiful."

I let out a small giggle when Glen just now realized I was in my dress. He smiled as his eyes went back up to mine. "You are even more gorgeous than I pictured you'd be."

He pulled me and pressed a gentle kiss to my lips. I wrapped my arms around him and kissed him back. Until I remembered where we were and where we should be.

"Glen," I whispered, breaking the kiss. "Please just tell me what's going on because all I can do is think about how you're going to leave me at the altar."

He tightened his arms around my waist but the look in his eyes slightly faltered. "I couldn't sleep last night," he finally started to explain. "It wasn't because I couldn't marry you. It's because. . . I kept thinking about my career. It's already kept us apart for half of our engagement. I constantly go out of town, leaving you behind. My career is going to interfere with our life."

"It won't."

"But. . ."

"But nothing," I cut him off. I gently grabbed his face as I added, "You will not let it happen, Glen. Sweetheart, we have battled your filming schedule since we first started dating. Once we were engaged, we still made time for each other. Once we are married, nothing is going to change."

"My job takes me away from you," he tried to counter.

"I'll come visit you," I shrugged. "And we'll Facetime every night, call every day during lunch, and text constantly."

"Most of my movies have me kissing and filming love scenes with other women," he said, avoiding my eyes. I grabbed his chin and made him look at me.

"I know you love me," I said firmly. "I know that kissing those other women means nothing to you. I know that I am the most important woman in your life. I know you love me and would never break my heart."

I stood on my toes and pressed my lips to his. He tightened his arms around my waist as he roughly kissed me back. We broke the kiss, both of us breathing heavily.

"I'm sorry I made you worry," he whispered, his forehead pressed to mine. He leaned back and added, "I got worried that I wouldn't be a good husband to you."

"You are going to be an amazing husband, Glen," I whispered back. "You have taken care of me since the moment we first met."

"I'll always take care of you, Y/N," he said with a playful chuckle, finally turning back into the Glen I first met and fell in love with. He leaned in and pressed another kiss to my lips. I wrapped my arms around his neck as he pulled me closer.

"So," I giggled, breaking the kiss, "are you ready to spend the rest of your life with me?"

"Yeah," Glen chuckled, "I am."

[queenxxxsupreme]

A Helping Hand

Charles Smith x f!reader

A/N: I haven't written in a very long time, but I have gotten back into playing RDR2 and Charles has my heart. So I hope you enjoy this! It's just a little something to warm me up and hopefully get me back in the grove of things <3

Warnings: none, just fluffy

Word Count: 1097

Summary: When things finally settle down in Colter, you tend to a wounded Charles Smith.

A hand on your shoulder made you jump in your seat. You tore your eyes away from the fire and found Susan standing just behind you.

”How are you holdin’ up, girl?” She gave your shoulder a gentle squeeze.

Your eyes flickered towards the back of the room. Abigail stood over John, scolding him as she checked his bandages. 

“I can’t complain, Ms. Grimshaw.” You spoke quietly. “My heart's still beatin'."

“Well, I appreciate that line of logic. There are some folks around here who can’t seem to stop complaining.” Her gaze shot over to the girls, who were talking quietly to each other and reading. “If you need anything, you just let me know.”

“Thank you, Ms. Grimshaw.” You offered her a little smile. "Is there anything I can do to help?"

"Not tonight, girl. It's late and we all need to get some rest."

You nodded your head gently and watched her walk away.

The door to the rundown cabin opened and a gust of chilling wind flew through the room. You shivered, pulling your coat tighter around you.

There was a quiet murmur of the people in the cabin greeting Charles.

“Good evening, ladies. Reverend.” 

You watched him move towards the fire. You shifted in your seat, preparing to get up and out of his way. 

“You’re okay, miss.” He held a hand out to you.

“Just don’t want to be in your way, Mr. Smith.”

“You aren’t.”

Your eyes followed him as he knelt down at the fire. He picked up the poker and stoked the flames, checking the wood to ensure it would last the night. 

You took note of the way he held his right hand, cradling it close to his chest. 

“How are you doing, Mr. Smith?” You asked him. “I-I mean, considering everything.”

“I’ll be better once we are out of these mountains.” He let out a sigh. “How about you?”

“I think I have to agree with you.” You paused for a moment as he put a log on to the fire. “Have you had that hand looked at?”

“No, ma’am.” He admitted with a light shake of his head. 

You shifted in your seat a little, smoothing out the material of your skirt. 

“Why don’t you let me take a look at it?”

“I don’t want to be a bother, miss. I’m just checking the fire and then I’ll be out of your hair for the night.”

“You’re no bother, Charles.” The corners of your lips turned up just slightly. He held your gaze for a few moments, clearly debating on what he should do. “It would, at the very least, give me something to occupy my mind for a few minutes. Stop me from thinking about what happened back there in Blackwater."

“I suppose it wouldn’t hurt.”

”Pull up a seat. I just need to grab a couple things.” 

While Charles pulled a chair closer to yours, you went to the back of the room to get a few things from beside John’s bed. 

“Oh. Hi, Y/N.” Abigail greeted you. 

“Hey, Abigail. How is he?” You tucked a piece of bandage under your arm and grabbed a clean rag. 

“He’s okay. For now.” She let out a sigh, crossing her arms as she looked down at the man on the bed.

“Don’t sound so happy about it.” John muttered. 

“Well, maybe next time don’t go gettin’ your face half torn off by a bunch of damn wolves!”

“I’m sure you’ll be back on your feet in no time, Mr. Marston” You said, your eyes met Abigail's. "If you need anything, just let me know."

She put her hand on your arm momentarily, giving you a soft squeeze as a sign of her thanks.

You returned to your chair, finding Charles with his hat off and resting it over his knee. 

You held your hand out for him and wordlessly, he placed his hand in yours. His hand practically dwarfed your own. But nonetheless, you held the back of his hand, holding him where you needed. 

“So what did you do to your hand exactly?"

“I don’t even know.” He sighed gently. “There was… so much going on. So much happened in such a short amount of time.”

“That’s fair.” You nodded your head. “I hope Mr. Dutch can get us out of here as soon as possible. I’m afraid the weather up here won’t be kind to us.”

“The Grizzlies aren’t known for being forgiving.”

There was a moment of silence that fell between you both. It was a comfortable silence, and you were thankful that he was a quiet man. You didn't have the energy to entertain anyone at that moment, to carry an actual conversation.

You poured a little bit of antiseptic liquid on to the rag, and then began to clean around his wound. You were doing your best to avoid the actual wound itself, but that was easier said than done because of the poor lighting in the room.

Charles hissed, curling his fingers as if he wanted to make a fist. But he didn't pull his hand away from you.

“I-I’m so sorry, Mr. Smith.” You hastily apologized, brows furrowing together as you looked up at him. "I'm sorry."

“Don’t apologize.” He shook his head. 

“Do you want me to stop?”

“No, miss. You’re okay.”

You nodded your head. You cleaned the wound a little more before putting the rag down. You started to fan his palm, wanting the antiseptic to dry as much as possible before you dressed it.

As you gently fanned his palm, your eyes flickered up to check his face for any signs of discomfort and instead, you found him gazing back at you. 

This was the first time that you were this close to him. You took advantage of that and took the chance to really look at him, to study his features up close— but specifically, his eyes. 

They were brown like the earth kissed by warm sunlight. There were speckles of amber, honey, and cinnamon within the deep pools of brown. You wondered what kind of stories they held, what kind of images they had absorbed over his years.

“Has anyone ever told you you’ve got pretty eyes, Mr. Smith?”

A grin tugged at the corner of his plump lips. 

“Not that I can recall. That isn’t the first thing most people notice about me.” 

It took you a moment to realize that perhaps you made a mistake. What if you made him feel uncomfortable? What if he took your compliment as interest in him?

You diverted your eyes away from his face, choosing instead to focus on finishing up with his hand.

When his hand was all wrapped up, he rubbed the bandaged palm with his opposite hand.

“Hm.” He grunted, nodding his head gently. “Thank you.”

“Of course.” You smiled. 

“Good night, Ms. Y/L/N.”

“Good night, Mr. Smith.”

You watched him leave, the wooden door closing tightly behind him. 

You didn’t realize you were staring at the last place Charles had been until a bunch of giggling caught your attention. You turned your head to see the girls watching you.

“Is Y/N goin’ soft on Mr. Smith?” Karen raised her brows. 

“It sure does look like it, Karen.” Tilly nodded her head. 

You swatted a hand in their direction, shaking your head in protest. 

“I was just helping him. It could’ve gotten infected and we can’t afford to lose anyone else.”

”Sure, Y/N.” Mary-Beth hummed, turning her attention back to her book. “Whatever you say.”

[come-as-you-are-111]

do a minsu x reader where minsu cry’s over smth and reader hugs and comforts him because he isn’t afraid to cry and he falls in love with her cause she i kind and sweet and she’s had a crush on him

Falling For You

Warnings: ABSOLUTELY NOTHING!!

The dorm is quieter than usual. It’s one of those rare moments between games where no one is talking, no one is fighting—just the sound of slow breathing, the occasional rustle of blankets, and the quiet weight of survival sinking in.

And then, you see him.

Min-Su sits on the edge of his bunk, hunched forward, his elbows resting on his knees. His hands are clasped together, fingers anxiously twisting the fabric of his jumpsuit. His head is bowed low, his shoulders rising and falling with unsteady breaths.

You hesitate.

It’s not often you see someone openly upset here. People usually swallow their emotions, bury them deep down, because in the Squid Game, weakness is dangerous. It’s a place that forces you to be numb, to pretend you don’t feel a damn thing.

But Min-Su isn’t like the others.

He always felt things deeply, and he wasn’t afraid to show it. And that’s exactly why you’re drawn to him.

Taking a quiet step closer, you lower your voice. “Min-Su?”

His head lifts slightly, and even in the dim light, you catch the faint shine of tears before he quickly wipes them away with the sleeve of his jumpsuit.

“Sorry,” he mutters, his voice rough, unsteady. “I know it’s stupid to get emotional here.”

Your heart clenches. “It’s not stupid.”

You sit beside him, close enough that your knee brushes his, but you don’t press him to talk. You just wait, letting him decide if he wants to let you in.

For a moment, all he does is exhale slowly, rubbing a hand down his face before finally whispering, “It’s just… everything. The games. The people we’ve lost. And I keep wondering if I’ll make it out—if any of us will.”

He shakes his head, staring down at his hands. “I don’t want to be another nameless body on the floor.”

There’s something so heartbreakingly human in the way he says it, and before you can stop yourself, you reach out—your fingers gently curling around his hand.

His breath hitches at the contact, his gaze flickering to yours, but he doesn’t pull away. If anything, he leans into it, like he needs it.

And then you move without thinking, wrapping your arms around him, pulling him into a firm, warm embrace.

At first, he freezes, like he’s not used to this kind of comfort. But then, ever so slowly, he lets go—his hands gripping the back of your jumpsuit as if holding onto you is the only thing keeping him grounded.

His breath is warm against your shoulder, uneven, but he doesn’t hide it. He doesn’t try to mask the way his body trembles slightly against yours.

“I hate that we’re stuck in this place,” you murmur against his shoulder. “But I’m glad I met you.”

His arms tighten around you, as if those words alone are enough to steady him. When he finally pulls back, his eyes search yours—soft, vulnerable, something unspoken lingering between you.

“You mean that?”

You nod, your heart hammering.

You’d had a crush on Min-Su since the moment you first spoke to him—since you realized he wasn’t like the others. He wasn’t ruthless. He wasn’t selfish. He cared.

And right now, looking at you like this, something in his gaze shifts—like he’s seeing you in a way he never has before.

“You’re too kind for this place,” he whispers, his fingers still gently holding onto your sleeve. “That’s why I—” He stops himself, shaking his head with a small, breathless laugh. “I think I’m falling for you.”

Your stomach flips, warmth spreading through your chest, but it’s more than just a crush now. It’s something real, something that exists despite the chaos around you.

Swallowing the lump in your throat, you squeeze his hand. “Then at least we’re in this together.”

And for the first time in days, he smiles.

A/n: hi my lil monsters! How we likey? First min-su fic and this request is honestly so cute and I just knew I had to do it! If you have any request send em in!

Love ya, Twilight

squid game taglist:

@amoristt @lousypotatoes @infinetlyforgotten @mirahyun @takuma-talkz @sxmmerchxld @multifandomgirllol @gizaspicebag @truefandemonium

[vulpixisananimal]

[A:4 C:67]

(Odile)

(A few months ago, you would never have guessed that Houses of Change had secret hidden libraries. Then again a few months ago you would have said wish craft was just a fairytale and that mind craft was, at most, usable as a cheap carnival trick.)

(You were here with Asterion. A few weeks ago when you first looked through this library, you found books written in a language that gave you a headache to read. It took you a second, but you remembered to get Siffrin for it. And Siffrin referred to, of all people, Asterion. Well, Asterion with Rosmarinus helping. Right now, he was sitting nearby with a pile of books, attempting to translate and transcribe the contents. In the meantime, you looked for more of those books.)

(You’re sure to transcribe every book here; it would take months, if not years. So really, Asterion was just transcribing enough to get a general idea.)

(. . . Maybe, once all this has wrapped up and all of you can actually settle down, you could help them transcribe more of these books. . . Enough musing, Odile. You searched this section, off to the next one.)

(What were you searching for, really? While yes it was to check the forgotten books, but what were you searching for inside them? Some notes on wish craft? Some hints to the origin of sadness? Gems you did not know, but you will keep searching, as you always have. You walk to the next section.)

(There was someone here already, but no matter. This was the histories section, and considering that the Monets lived here, it was surprisingly small. You walk to one of the shelves and begin searching through it. . .)

(. . . A history book on the island would be invaluable. . . Gems, if you’re lucky, you might finally find that book Percival wrote on his own family! “The Monet Family; When ego overtakes devotion.” A stunning title, even still. Where would you. . .)

“Looking for something?” (The stranger speaks to you. She sounds young, and familiar. You turn around.)

(And you freeze.)

(Your eyes glazed over the stranger at first, like she was just background noise. But now, you see her in a crystal clear view. The cap, the bag, and, most revealing of all, the eye wrapped around said cap. You, you remember this. Those with eyes, that’s, t-that’s--)

“おはようございます [Ohayou-gozaimasu]” (You quickly bow your head.) “[You- a-are you-]”

“[I am~]” (The stranger bowed back.) “[Ohayou-gozaimasu, Madame Odile. It’s good to finally to meet you.]”

(The words, like everything else about this situation, left you stunned and confused.) “[M-meet, me? But, why would you want to meet me? There are certainly others-]”

“[Oh stop it.]” (She held up a hand.) “[Please, let me introduce myself before we engage in your theological crisis. The name I’ve chosen for now is Rimae, and I am the Expression of Search.]”

“[G-gems alive.]” (It’s hard to breathe, your hands wont stop shaking.) “[I-it, it is, wonderful to meet you, Rimae-sama, an honor, even.]”

“[Oh no need to be so formal, Odile-hakase.]” (The God giggled behind a hand, walking over to you. She reached up and tilted your head to the side.) “[. . . You’ve aged well for someone almost in her sixties.]”

“[. . .]” (You weren’t sure how to respond. You are talking to one of your expressions, arguably the one you have been praying to for the longest of them all.) “[. . . It hasn’t been easy.]”

“[Ha! Oh it never is!]” (She let go of your chin and patted your shoulder.) “[How have you been?]”

“[I. . . I have been, stressed as of late.]” (Does Rimae not know? Oh, no no you remember Loop telling you about this; it’s just manners.) “[Between saving Vaugarde, making sure these children do not hurt themselves, and now those cutting Monets to deal with- a-ah, excuse my language-]”

“[HA!! Hahaaaa no by all means!]” (The god turned back to the bookshelf and traced a finger along it.) “[I have no quarrel with the Monets, they are nothing to me. This isn’t an insult, it is a state of fact. You, however, mean much more than they ever could, and thus the Monets are on the ah, shit list, excuse my language~]”

“[. . Pffaha!]” (That made you crack into a smile. Gems, you were feeling younger by the second.) “[Thank you, again, but. . . Why? Why me?]”

“[Isn’t it obvious.]” (Rimae stops tracing her finger down the books, and pulls one out.) “[We never expect those in Ka-Bue to stay loyal to one Expression, if anything, it is opposed. But you, you were not loyal, but passionate. Ever since you were young you would pray for my assistance, and search for what you needed most. Many a time, all I needed to do was nudge you in the right direction, and watch you discover yourself all by yourself.]”

“[The search for your many lost possessions, the search for your mother when she left, the search for your education, and of course the search to change.]” (The God winked, and continued.) “[And then, the search for family, for help, for people, for this country, for everything. You have always been a soul driven by missing puzzle pieces; you have never given up, not even once, that is admirable, Madame Odile.]”

“[But, I. . .]” (Rimae holds the book out to you. You take it. Its cover reads “The Monet Family; When ego overtakes devotion.” You look between her and the book.) “[. . . . I did give up. I let my sadness consume me.]”

“[As would any mortal.]” (Rimae retorts.) “[It was because you were searching for answer, it nearly killed you, yes, but that search led you to learn more, did it not?]”

“[. . . . I. . . . I suppose.]” (You hold the book close to your chest, and look away.) 

“[. . . Odile Look at me.]” (You, hesitantly look down at the God. That eye of hers was looking right at you.) “[Do not listen to your inner demons, you searched hard for your family. You love them, they love you. You could do anything, and they would love you. This I know.]”

“[I. . . .]” (You take a moment to breathe carefully, so you don’t cry.) “[. . . T-thank you. . .]”

“[It’s my pleasure.]”  (She pinches your nose.) “[How do you feel now?]”

“[Better. Much better.]” (You rub your eyes with your free hand.) “[. . . Although, while I understand why you are here, I want to ask why you are here looking as you do?]”

“[What, like some delinquent student?]” (She laughed again.) “[Ha! It’s becoming quite the trend, you see. In fact I believe it was a good friend of the Change God who started it.]”

“[You mean the Universe]” (You raise an eyebrow.)

“[Ah yes! That is the name, thank you. I probably won’t be the last God to take a step in your shoes. And I chose to look like this because what else embodies searching more than a rebellious university student! Ha!]”

“M-madame Odile?” (You turn at hearing Asterion's voice. He’s standing at the far end of the history section.) “You were ah, taking more time than usual. So I wanted to make sure that. . .”

“Asterion and Rosmarinus, yes?” (Rimae chimes in, speaking perfect Vaugardian.) “Where would I search for the Big Dipper tonight?”

“O-oh!” (You could see the gears turning in his head almost automatically.) “. . . Directly north of here, about 7 degrees from the horizon, what-”

“And the star Hamal?”

“Due. . . Due east, nearly straight above us.”

“Very well done.” (Rimae turned back to you, a toothy smile on her face.) “またね, [Mata ne], Odile-hakase, feel free to call any time.”

“. . . M-mata ne, Rimae-sama.” (You respond after a moment.) “And, I hope you enjoy your time in Vaugarde.”

“Oh I’m sure I will~” (She giggled, then turned to leave. On her way out, she paused as she passed by Asterion. She looked down at him, then patted his head.) “And it’s good to meet you all, Asterion-kun, Rosmarinus-kun.”

(With that and a confused look from Asterion, Rimae turned the corner, and was gone.)

[blueishspace]

Hero, Villain God 58

(Prev) (Next) (First)

*Scar's pov*

You don't even have to wait that long for Altostratus and Ocean Queen to arrive, It's a bit impressive to be honest... You hope they didn't violate the speed limit to get here or something, you really don't want anyone to get in trouble for you if you can avoid it.

The black windowed car stops in front of the building, It's definitely property of the association...not fair, you weren't given a car... You don't know how to drive one but still, unfair.

The front door opens, It's Altostratus at the wheel with Ocean Queen sitting next to him, she waves at you. He lowers his sunglasses (Who even wears sunglasses during a storm???) and looks at you.

"Get in losers we're going shopping"

... Eh?

"But we are going to see Cuteguy"

"I know, jeeze, just wanted to say the quote"

"Oh!"

Yeah that makes sense! You would do the same for Star Wars quotes. You nod and make your way onto the backseat, Cub follows quietly behind you.

You expected the car ride to be silent but almost immediatly Ocean Queen turns towards you and Cub to ask about Cuteguy.

"Oh Sheriff is so mean, he won't tell me anything about the guy! Can you believe it?"

"I mean, I doubt he's allowed to" Responds Cub while sipping on sone kind of juice...where did he even get that!?

"Well, as his sister I feel like I'm owed at least the bare minimum! So! Hotguy, Cub, what is Cuteguy like?" She fully turns her head around, you can hear Altostratus protest at the sudden movement.

"Well, I've met the guy few times, seems like a nice guy and all even if sarcastic. Can't tell you much more then that though, Hotguy is the exper here."

Two sets of eyes turn to you, you didn't expect this to become an interview. "Cuteguy... he's great actually! He...well, I'm not going to say too much without him agreeing to it but he's really kind. And brave, he put himself in front of a bullet for me."

The conversation continues from them and when you tell them all you think you can tell them the conversation somehow turns to movies and from there to cartoons to you ranting about the decline in quality of Disney films.

Cub ends up shutting down 5 minutes in and Altostratus almost slams his head into the steering wheel at one point, Ocean Queen seems pretty interested though... It's at this point you remember the one question you had.

"So...uh, are the two working are working a case together? Oh! Is it a big super secret thing?"

Cub focused back. "If it was a 'super secret thing' I doubt the would be telling you".

Ocean Queen turns to Altostratus. "Should we tell him?"

In response he straightens up in his seat."What? Why?"

You are... Very confused... and suspicious. Especially suspicious. Are they hiding something from you? Why?

Ocean Queen just pouts in response. "He's our coworker, he should at least get know that much... Plus he did tell us about Cuteguy, It's the least we could do."

"... I ...I guess??? Just-" he sighs. "It's not something you can take back."

She turns her body so that's she's now somewhat looking at you again...

"So uh...me and J- Altostratus are actually married. So uh ... Surprise?"

Wait, is she serious? That's awesome! Really, you don't get why they didn't say so earlier.

"Congratulations-"

You are interrupted by the car coming to a stop.

Altostratus shuts off the car and steps out. "We're here lads, try not to let too much rain into my car when you get out, It's just been cleaned. If you do I will know and I won't be happy about it."

[just-my-latest-hyperfixation]

Whatever it is you’ve been doing

Written for the @steddiebingo

Prompts: Secret Date on the Kissing Booth bonus card and Date on the regular one

Rated: T

Tags: Omegaverse; Alpha!Steve; Omega!Eddie; Secret relationship, Courting rituals, Fluff

Notes: Set in the same verse as Whatever you want it to be.

Dustin Henderson is confused, and Eddie can tell that he's going to make it everybody's problem. 

He glowers at Eddie from under his hat as Steve herds his friends and him into the living room of Harrington Manor, frowns as they unpack their dice and gives snippy replies as Steve takes everyone's pizza order. He calms down a little after that, as they get started with their campaign, but by the time Steve returns with the food, his mood sours again. 

“Extra cheese and no pineapple for Wheeler,” Steve says, handing over Mike's order, then plops down on the couch, right next to where Eddie is sitting cross-legged on the carpet. “And these are for you.” 

Eddie blinks at the box that's shoved in his direction. Steve wiggles it, smile bright and eager. 

“Pizza knots with pepperoni,” he singsongs. Like he thinks it's charming. Like offering a guy greasy fast food in a soggy cardboard box and making bad sex puns is high-level seduction. 

The problem is it's working. 

“Keep your knots to yourself, Harrington,” he drawls, just for the heck of it, because the last thing that dork needs is to think he’s some sort of modern-day Don Juan. “I didn't order anything.” 

Steve rolls his eyes but doesn't stop smiling. 

“I know,” he says, opening the box and grinning at the audible rumble of Eddie’s stomach. “But I also know they're your favorite. C'mon, they're on me. We can even share if-” 

“What the hell is going on with you two?” Dustin blurts, slamming his hands down on the sofa table and sending their figurines scattering. 

Steve measures him with an unimpressed look and takes a bite out of his first pizza knot. 

“What d’you mean?” 

Dustin groans. Tugs on his basecap. Throws his hands out in a dramatic, all-encompassing gesture. Next to him, Lucas dodges to the side, narrowly avoiding an elbow to the face.

“What do I- … This! All of this! Why are we holding Hellfire at your house? Why are you buying Eddie food? Why are you two suddenly joined at the hip when you were barely even acknowledging each other’s existence two weeks ago?”

Eddie trades a glance with Steve before he turns back to Dustin with blank stare. It’s hard, because the kid’s left eyebrow is twitching funnily and he needs to muster up all of his willpower to not burst out laughing.

“Okay? I don’t get it, Henderson.”

“Yeah,” Steve agrees around half a mouthful of cheese. “You’ve been nagging me about what a great guy Eddie is for literal months, and now that we’re finally getting along, that’s also a problem?”

“I wanted you to be friends!” Dustin whines. “Not- … Not whatever it is you’ve been doing! Hell, the other day at the gas station, you bought him a pen!” 

“Because he always steals mine and I thought he might like it,” Steve shrugs. “It was shaped like a dragon and had those little sparkly stones for eyes.”

Eddie smiles at him. “It’s a very metal pen, thank you.”

“See?” Dustin blurts. “That’s exactly what I mean! Hell, if I didn’t know any better, I’d say you two were courting!”

Next to him, Mike rolls his eyes. “Oh, please, they can’t be courting. Eddie’s a beta.”

Dustin gives him an scathing look. “He dated your sister and she’s an alpha.”

“That was before she presented,” Mike retaliates. “They broke up after that.”

“Hey, shitheads,” Steve says, pointing his pizza knot at them. “I didn’t break up with Nancy because she presented as an alpha. And you don’t gossip about other people’s love life. Least of all while they’re in the same room.”

Dustin looks like he’s about to argue, but Steve draws himself up to his full height and crosses his arms. The warning rumble that bubbles from his throat is so low it’s barely even there, but it still has the desired effect. The kids deflate and avert their eyes. Which is just as well, because if they kept looking, they’d probably see how Eddie has gone suspiciously red in the face and has started squirming in his spot. 

“Jeez, okay,” Dustin mumbles. “Sorry, I guess.” 

“It’s okay,” Steve says. “Now go back to your nerd game, I’d like you to go home at some point.” 

*

Mrs. Henderson swings by on her way back from work to pick up the brood, so Steve takes the empty glasses and pizza cartons to the kitchen while Eddie clears away the mess in the living room. He’s just assembled his notes on the campaign into something that halfway resembles a neat stack when a pair of arms wraps around his waist and pulls him back into a soft, warm body. Steve noses at the scent gland on his neck, even though there’s not much to smell now that Eddie is back on his repressants. Eddie still sighs and tilts his head to give him better access.

“Those little gremlins are too curious for their own good,” Steve mutters. Since his mouth is all but welded to Eddie’s neck, his voice comes out slightly muffled. It sends a pleasant shiver down Eddie’s spine and makes a familiar warmth stir in his belly.

“Tell me about it,” Eddie says, hands finding Steve’s and entangling their fingers. In the kitchen, some cheesy love song is blaring from the radio. Steve starts swaying the both of them to the melody and Eddie lets him. “You might wanna try and keep the sexy, macho, alpha act to a minimum though, if you don’t want me to pop a boner in front of our little sheepies. That, and the courting gifts.” 

“I’ve been so subtle about it,” Steve grouses, spinning him around and out before wrapping him back into his arms. “Goddamn pizza knots and pens. You deserve much better gifts. You deserve to be taken on proper dates.” 

“Hey now!” Eddie hits his chest. “Don’t insult the pen. I meant what I said, I like it a lot.”

Steve pouts, but his scent goes earthier and more intense, as always when he’s pleased. 

“Maybe we should just tell them,” Eddie mumbles into Steve's chest as they keep moving to the music. “They're two steps away from figuring it out, anyhow.” 

Steve gently pushes him away, so that he can measure him with a quizzical look. The pine needle note in his scent has gone sharper. More protective. Eddie realizes he's getting better and better at telling his emotions from these subtle shifts, even with his senses dulled by the meds.

“Would you be okay with that? You said you didn't want anyone to know.” 

Eddie shrugs. “They're a bunch of loud-mouthed little goblins, but they're good kids at heart. I feel like they'd handle it okay. And I'll probably need to come out about it at some point, if we want to continue this.” 

Steve frowns, unconvinced, folding him up in his arms and pressing a soft, lingering kiss to his forehead. 

“When you're ready. When you're absolutely sure you wanna do this. Not a day earlier, okay?” 

A part of Eddie thinks he'll never be ready, but he knows that it's the scared and cowardly part that also thought he'd never open up to Steve. Another, more stubborn and possessive part of him wants to climb out on the roof and proclaim their courtship for all of this goddamn town to hear. Tell everyone that Steve is his just as much as he is Steve’s. 

What he does, in the end, is melt into Steve's embrace and kiss the junction of his neck and shoulder, grinning at the sharp intake of breath and distinct spike of arousal in his scent. 

“Okay,” he agrees. He'll be ready one day, and they'll figure out their way when the time comes. “But for now … take me upstairs?” 

More Steddie Bingo

[getaandlucius]

A brief taste of Honey (Geta x Lucius)

Summary: Geta is staying on the island with his uncle and learns of the aliance made with the Alamanni and of his brother Caracalla's fate.

Geta's POV

Geta and Caracalla, 8 years old

They were spending the season in Sicily. Their parents were both there, along with fifteen servants, all stuffed into a grand white villa near the sea. Its courtyard was adorned with an outdoor bath surrounded by lemon trees which was where Geta and Caracalla spend most of their time.

Both sat on the edge of the bath, their feet dangling in the water. Caracalla was playing with a carved wooden bear while Geta attempted to read. Both were privately tutored, but Geta was a far quicker learner than his brother. Caracalla preferred games and animals to arithmetic and literature.

Geta yawned. The heat was oppressive, and he had slept poorly the night before. He always struggled to adjust to unfamiliar surroundings. He placed his book in his lap and gazed at his pale legs submerged in the water. His skin, untouched by the sun, was milky white from spending so much time indoors. Though it was only the beginning of June, Geta preferred the palace halls, wandering through their vast expanse, discovering hidden alcoves where he could escape his parents and immerse himself in his studies.

Lost in thought, neither he nor Caracalla noticed the servant calling them for supper, the rustling leaves masking the sound. Suddenly, their mother appeared. Geta squinted against the sunlight. She looked furious.

"Why are you ignoring the summons?" she demanded.

Geta swallowed and glanced at her sheepishly. "You called?"

"Yes!"

He exchanged a look with his brother, who was suddenly pretending to be deaf, stacking his wooden animals into a precarious tower. The fox kept falling.

"We did not hear it, Mother. I am sorry," Geta tried.

"Lies," she hissed, shaking her head.

Geta looked past her at the trees, unable to hold her gaze. Looking at her was like facing Medusa. His mother had a lifeless kind of beauty—her features symmetrical and refined, her cheekbones high—but her eyes were cold and unyielding.

Defending themselves was futile. She never listened. Caracalla continued stacking his wooden animals as if he were somewhere far away, though Geta noticed his right hand was trembling slightly.

Without warning, she grabbed Caracalla by the armpits and hauled him up. "Look at me when I am speaking to you!" she seethed.

Caracalla still refused to acknowledge her.

Then, she backhanded him so hard that he fell sideways, his cheek striking the stone edge of the pool. The impact made a sickening sound.

"Both my children have no respect for me. Do you know how that makes me feel?" she asked, though Geta knew it was not a question that required an answer.

He remained silent, his breath shallow.

Geta rushed to his brother, rolling him over carefully. A small cut just below Caracalla’s cheekbone had already started to bruise. Geta bit his lip to stop himself from crying. His mother was already gone, but he did not need to turn around to confirm it—he had developed a keen sense for her presence over the years.

"I want to go home," Caracalla murmured, his voice thick with tears.

Geta knew he did not mean home exactly. He meant away—from the pain, the rejection, the cruel indifference of a mother who did not love even a single part of them. They had only ever had each other.

"I shall find the healer after dinner," Geta promised, helping his brother up.

Caracalla nodded distantly, then looked at him. "Can I sleep in your bed tonight?"

Geta nodded without hesitation. "Of course."

Geta's POV - The Dinner in Sardinia

Geta sat down at the lavishly decorated table. Before him lay a feast—roasted meats, fresh fruit, rich wine, and golden bread, all accompanied by fragrant thyme branches. He barely glanced at it.

"First, let us eat," his uncle said, pouring himself a glass of wine. Agrippa was absent—Aelius had insisted this be a private dinner.

Geta was not hungry. His body felt hollowed out. He picked at an apricot and took small bites while watching his uncle.

When Aelius finished his plate, he wiped his mouth. Two young women entered, their breasts bare, carrying honeyed cakes. His uncle smiled and placed a hand on the younger woman’s arm. "Thank you, dearest."

Then he turned to Geta. "Very well, then. While we enjoy these, I shall tell you what you wish to know."

He picked up a honey-soaked cake, biting into it. "Let us begin with the alliance, as it concerns you most."

Geta swallowed and tapped his foot nervously. "You spoke with Caracalla? How is he?" he asked eagerly.

Aelius exhaled. "Besides his illness, which still lingers, he fares well enough. He was upset, of course. But I am not certain he truly understands the situation. I tried to explain, but it did not seem to… take hold."

Geta nodded, waiting.

"Naturally, I wish for my nephew to be safe. Both of you." His uncle scratched his neck. "So I asked them how we might secure his release. They knew Caracalla still held value—remnants of the power you both once possessed. And I assured them that, yes, there was still potential, still something to gain." Aelius took another bite, watching Geta closely. "I have men, a small independent force, but compared to Rome’s, to Lucius’s, it is insignificant, as you can imagine. So I asked what else I could offer. They requested intelligence. A spy within the new Senate. Inside information."

He let the words sink in before continuing. Geta's eyes went wide. This was unthinkable. This could not be.

"At the time, I was unaware of your… bond with Lucius," Aelius said, his tone pointed. Geta shook his head slowly, not wanting to know where this was heading. "But rumors reached me. Very interesting rumors. So I returned with a proposal. If I could supply them with battle plans, strike points, army sizes—would they free Caracalla?"

Geta slumped in his chair, his face drained of color. "You want me to become a spy? To betray Lucius?" he whispered in horror.

"Yes, Geta. Because this is our chance to retrieve Caracalla."

Geta shook his head. "You cannot ask this of me. This cannot be the only option."

Aelius leaned in, voice smooth as silk. "Then tell me. How do you plan to retrieve him? Will you storm their fortress? Slip past guards? Do you truly believe they will show mercy?"

Geta’s mind raced. He felt like he was falling, spiraling into something dark and endless. He stared blankly at the table, the honeyed cakes, the wealth surrounding them—such stark contrast to the cruelty in his uncle’s voice.

"Laurentius is part of the alliance too." Aelius then added, making Geta gasp. His entire world was collapsing. He was used to betrayal, but this was different. Laurentius was one of Lucius's closest confidants. This was not possible.

"Since when?" He whispered, then remembered Lucius had told him Laurentius had not forwarded Geta's message when he had asked the guard to tell Lucius Geta was leaving the fesitivities to speak to his uncle.

"A few weeks before I visited you."

Geta shook his head in disgust. "What did you do to him."

"Nothing worth shearing dear nephew. Let's just say there are high stakes for him as well as his new wife.

Geta did not know what to say, just stared at his uncle in disbelief.

"I know this is a lot to take in, but sleep on it," Aelius said then, placing a heavy hand on Geta’s head. "Stay here at the house. Think it through. Then, we shall talk."

====

That night, Geta lay in bed, staring at the ceiling, feeling as though his soul were being ripped apart. He felt an intense sense of guilt. He had done nothing yet, and still he felt like the worst person alive.

By the fifth day, he realized he had already made his decision. Perhaps he had even made it the moment he heard the news.

And when he understood that, he wept the entire night.

Eighteen days passed before he felt ready to return. When he reached the shore and saw Lucius waiting, he let himself be pulled into the water, disappearing into his arms. He fought not to cry.

Do not cry. Whatever happens, do not cry.

Lucius held him, stroking his back, speaking softly of how he was glad to have him in his arms again. Nothing felt better and nothing felt worse than to be held by him in that moment.

Geta broke the embrace first. He avoided Lucius’s gaze but failed. Lucius immediately saw that something had changed.

But Geta could not tell him.

The following days were agony. He had rehearsed his lines, but he could not speak them. Ulysis visited once when Geta was alone in the garden. It startled Geta but he should have seen it coming. Ulysis did not have an intense character. He did not push for information, or forced Geta to do anything. But he did not have to. Geta could feel the claws of his uncle from all the way oversees, the nails digging deep into his skin making everything hurt and bleed. He told Ulysis what he knew, which was not much as he had isolated himself so much the past days. Ulysis thanked him for the information about the size of the current army and the location of the their strongest defense posts and left.

The next morning Geta did what he was expected to and asked Lucius where he was going next. They were taking a break while sparring on the fighting grounds. Though they were still using practice knives, Geta was rapidly improving. Both were breathing heavily from the physical exertion, wiping away the sweat from their foreheads, their tunics drenched.

“I have to go away for a while,” Lucius told Geta, slowly straightening, giving Geta an easy opening to jump in.

“Where are you going this time?” Geta turned his practice knife over in his hand, not able to meet his eyes. His heart was beating rapidly in his chest. “Still fighting the rebels, or somewhere else this time?” Forcing out the words was like swallowing his own vomit. He could feel Lucius' eyes burn and looked up briefly.

Lucius furrowed his brow. He was pondering whether to tell him, Geta could see it in his face: all the emotions traveling through there. Confusion, rejection, hurt.

“Talk to me Geta.” Lucius pleaded. “Tell me about Sardinia, and I’ll let you know,” His eyes were begging and Geta felt like he was stabbing him and twisting the knife.

“It’s okay.” Geta shrugged, forcing carelessness. “I don’t need to know.”

Lucius shook his head and laughed a hollow laugh to himself. Then, with frustration, he smashed his practice knife into the sand. “Well, fuck this then,” he bit out, before walking off, not looking back.

Geta stayed there, feeling a weird sense of relief and panic. Knowing anything meant having to pass it along and puting Lucius at risk. Not knowing anything was dragging out Caracalla's imprisonment. No matter what he did, Geta felt like his soul from this point onwards could not be saved. It'd be tainted forever. He'd be awful, forever. He wanted to collapse then and there and never get up.

===

That night Geta could not sleep.

He kept torturing himself, thinking out every worst possible scenario. Receiving knews that Caracalla had been killed by the Allimani because it was taking too long and they had broken the alliance. Watching Lucius leave for battle and getting defeated, and then hearing back how he was stabbed to death on the field and Geta would never be able to hold him in his arms again, or look at his peaceful face while he was asleep.

His thoughts spiralled so out of control he eventually started hyper ventilating and could not get any air in. He fisted the sheets, gasping for breath, silent tears streaming over his cheeks. When calmed down enough to sit up straight he wiped his face with the back of his hand and walked over to Lucius' sleeping quarters. Without thinking it over he knocked on the door. He was certain he was not able to get through this night on his own.

As he was let in he knew he was being selfhish. It might have been the most selfish thing he had ever done but he was not in his body anymore. His thoughts were not his own.

Lucius was eying him wearily, confusion lacing his face. He was laying on his back, propped up on his elbows, looking almost angry. He was not happy to see him.

Anger Geta could deal with. Anger was good. He could make him more angry. But he also needed to feel him. Maybe one last time. He did not deserve it but he was going to ask for it anyway.

“Can you please pretend not to hate me for tonight?”

He stood before the bed and only then realised he was crying again.

Lucius did not say anything. He just looked at him in silence.

Geta wiped his cheeks, eyes not leaving Lucius’s. Then his hands went to his robe, he untied it and pushed the fabric over his shoulders. He did not know what he was doing. He was acting from instinct, from pure need. He stood there, completely naked, letting Lucius look at him, let him hate him.

‘I know you do not trust me." Geta said. "I’m not asking you to. But please pretend you love me for tonight.“ He breathed and added nercously, "You can have me in any way you want.’

Lucius' throat bobbed. His fingers were digging in the mattress. He looked in pain almost.

'Come here.' He said in a quiet voice. Geta wondered if he was on the verge of crying. Lucius gestured to the side of the bed and went to sit on the edge himself. Geta lowered himself on his knees inbetween Lucius' legs until their arms and legs were touching.

Lucius hand traveled over Geta's wet cheeks until it rested under his jaw, cupping his throat.

One tear slipped out of the corner of Lucius eye en he sniffed once. He looked so hurt Geta regretted coming here. He could not take it. Lucius' hand stayed posessivily around Geta's throat, keeping him in place.

'What is going on with you huh?'

Love to hear your thought in the comments :) x Murphy