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casicroaks · 6 months

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Tiffany Valentine has two things in her mind: love and murder. The origins of the brains behind the infamous Lakeshore Strangler and the string of broken hearts she left along her way to Chicago, interwoven with the development of the tempestuous relationship between her and a certain Charles Lee Ray.

CHAPTER 11

[ CHAPTER 1 // CHAPTER 2 // CHAPTER 3 // CHAPTER 4 // CHAPTER 5 // CHAPTER 6 // CHAPTER 7 // CHAPTER 8 // CHAPTER 9 // CHAPTER 10 // CHAPTER 11 // CHAPTER 12 // CHAPTER 13 // CHAPTER 14 // CHAPTER 15 // CHAPTER 16 ]

NEW YORK, 1977

Most auditions took place in either small, off-Broadway theaters, or in little offices in apartment buildings. This one I took at a dance studio. Apart from the usual producers who’d conduct the interview, I had a crowd of Tiffanys around me, turning to watch me when I watched them, calling my attention each time I felt too awkward to stare right into the eyes of either one of the two men. I wondered if it had been intentional. Having an actress forced to be interviewed for ten minutes in a room full of mirrors meant she had to be particularly comfortable with feeling self-conscious.

“Remind us what your name is, dear.”

“I’m… My name’s Valerie. Valerie Day,” I stammered. Bad start. I shouldn’t falter. Shouldn’t doubt.

They checked the name written on the application. For a moment I panicked, unsure of what name I had signed with. “Please, take a seat.”

I did. I was careful my skirt didn’t hike up my thighs too much.

“Sorry to keep you waiting,” one of them said.

“Not at all,” I smiled, wondering if I should cross my legs instead.

“Have you ever been in a film or on TV?”

“I haven’t, though I’ve had several offers.”

One of the men, the one in a grey jacket, stared at me in a way I didn’t like. Even without looking at him I could feel his eyes on me.

“Do you belong to any agency?”

“No, but I am friends with someone in the show business who looks after me personally.” ‘Friends’ was all they needed to know. “He found an agent for me.”

By that point I already had an audition uniform. They say you gotta dress for the job you want, so I dressed as neutral as I could, so every producer could see whoever they wanted to see in me. A plain white t-shirt, barely a bit of mascara and some blush. As clean a slate as possible.

“Is this work you do at your friend’s bar your main source of income?”

I fidgeted on my seat. “Yes.”

“You find that income to be enough?”

“I can cope, if I’m not extravagant.”

“Don’t you want to live fancy?”

“I mean, I don’t want to be poor…” I replied with a quirk of my eyebrows. “But I’m happy if I can afford to go to the movies.”

“Hm,” The man in the grey jacket wrote something in his notebook. I wringed my hands. “So, why do you want to be an actress? If not for the money, is it a matter of fame?”

What a stupid question. Who didn’t want to be famous? But that would sound too conceited.

“I want to have something to motivate me,” I said, raising my chin. “I want to have a purpose.”

“Do you currently feel like you have no purpose?”

I pushed my shoulders back. “I just want something more out of life.”

The two producers exchanged a look. “Alright. Let’s see what you got, Miss Day.”

I acted the lines I was given to memorize, which I had managed to fully memorize this time. I knew my memory wasn’t the best. And, admittedly, nobody I knew ever wanted to help me rehearse: the girls at the Playhouse were always too distracted with their own little dramas to pay attention to the script, Jamie and Colin and Ernie always laughed at me each time I told them about my dreams of stardom, and Cesar… Well, he had read with me once or twice, sucking on his cigar, lying on the bed with the pages folded in his hand. But with how little we saw each other now, I didn’t want to waste a single second of our time together by rehearsing silly lines.

The two men thanked me, and I left the room. I told myself I had a good feeling about this one. I told myself the same thing after every audition, even when I knew perfectly well that there was no chance I was gonna be called back.

I waited for the elevator, tapping my heel, trying not to chew on my bottom lip and get makeup on my teeth. The damn thing took a lifetime to get to that floor.

“Ah, Miss Day. Thought you’d have left already.”

I looked over my shoulder. The man in the grey suit jacket gave me a little smile. I smiled back at him. He adjusted a folder full of scattered papers under his arm. I could see my own little face in a black-and-white square, peering under a pink document. They hadn’t thrown away my application yet, which I guessed was a good sign.

“What are the odds this is my big break?” I asked the man, with a half-grin and a cock of the head, a little gesture I had practiced for another audition I had couple weeks ago.

The man chuckled. “You weren’t the worst we had today, don’t worry.”

I chuckled, too. With a little ding!, the elevator finally arrived, and we went in. I could see him still staring at me, out the corner of my eye.

“And you’re definitely not the worst-looking one we had today, either.”

“Thank you.”

His free hand slipped out the pocket of his pants. I glanced down at it, took a deep breath, and went back to facing straight ahead. Then I felt his hand close, too close –setting on the back of my waist –and going down, feeling me up.

My first thought, barely repressed before it became an impulse, was to pull out my switchblade and tell him to back the fuck off. I wasn’t really confident I had nailed this audition, so I didn’t have much to lose –that is, unless he decided to rat me off and make sure no other casting director in the city would even have me. I had heard from other girls, while retouching our makeup and waiting for our shift to start, who knew other actresses who had that happen to them. Maybe that was what made me stop myself before I could really give in to that first gut reaction.

But more than that I knew that, if I took the switchblade out my bag, I might not be satisfied with just giving him a scare. It was never enough. This was New York, for God’s sake, it wouldn’t be the first time someone threatened him with a knife. I might just be a bit too brash, too eager to go one step beyond, and sink the blade into his chest. Then, I might stab him a few times more, since I had already started. Maybe I’d stab him enough times that there would be no way for him to get out of that elevator alive, and maybe then he’d think again before groping a girl without her permission. Maybe I could kill him, and rid the world of another fucking asshole, and in the meantime also find a way to scratch that four-year-itch.

I did nothing. I just stood still, gritting my teeth, waiting till the elevator reached the ground floor. Once it did, I hurried to get out, with one hand grasping the handle of the switchblade inside my bag, the other digging my nails on my palm.

I lit a cigarette as soon as I got out onto the street. I knew I should have been proud of myself, for reigning it in, for being in control –but God, what I knew was different from what I felt, and I felt like shit, furious at myself, knowing I should have done something . If I was lucky, me not doing anything would end up with a further consideration for the role, which was, admittedly, a shit bit part I wouldn’t miss terribly if I didn’t get. Not that I had any real hopes the man in the grey suit jacket would think well enough of me to really pick me just based on me staying still while getting groped. If men were that easy, I would be swimming in tips from the clients at the Playhouse.

Duane, my manager, finally decided to show up, running his fingers through his stupid perm. Most of the time he just dropped me off and fucked off, but every once in a while he’d pretend to care and stay around for a bit longer. Of course, that was if the audition went by quick enough. Cesar had hired him to help make me a star, but I had the suspicion Duane either wasn’t paid enough to make more than the minimum effort, or that he was paid just enough for him to want to keep his job for as long as he could.

“Did you dazzle their socks off, princess?”

“There you are,” I said, turning around to face him. “How come there’s nothing yet?”

“It’s a tough market. Everyone wants to be the next big thing.”

“But it’s been a year already –and I only had two shitty background ad roles!”

“Well, let’s see what we’re working with, shall we?” he said, counting with his fingers. “You can’t sing, can’t dance, you can barely remember your lines, you have a bad disposition, you don’t play along—”

I had ‘played along’ just fine, back then in the elevator. But I knew that if I complained about it, Duane would just laugh and say I was being bitchy.

“Oh, so a ‘bad disposition’, huh?” I said instead. “This is the fourth audition I went to, just this week!”

“Well,” he sighed. “That’s just showbiz, baby.”

We walked a couple more blocks, towards where he had managed to park his Ford Pinto. After a couple steps he finally stopped right on his heels, and stopped me as well, pulling my arm. I huffed and yanked my arm away. Why couldn’t people just keep their damn hands to themselves?

“Alright. I’m gonna be brutally honest with you, more honest than I could ever be with Cesar,” he told me. “So brace yourself.”

I took another drag of my cigarette, looking away. Whatever it was, I knew it wasn’t gonna be good.

“Listen, Vicky—”

“Val—”

“Yeah, yeah, Val. I thought you’d be a bit sharper, smarter. Now,” He put his hands on my shoulders, and gave them a squeeze. “Do you really, really, really believe you have true untapped potential?”

“… Yes,” I said, closing my hands into fists, nodding furiously. “Yes, yes, of course I do.”

“Well, you’re living in dreamland,” he said, leaning forward. I could smell the tuna melt he had for lunch. “You gotta be realistic, keep your expectations reasonably low. Nobody here hires chicks like you. You don’t… You just don’t have it –that star quality.”

“I can reinvent myself,” I said quickly. “I can do anything I need to—”

“If there’s something that was made abundantly clear, princess, it’s that you don’t have the cunning nor the instinct,” Duane said in a weary tone. If he was tired of this old routine, he could imagine how I was feeling. “You got a pretty enough face, good enough to charm the boss. That might get you a bit part in some ABC sitcom.”

I scoffed.

“But come down from any fantasies you might have of a stage break. You’re not gonna get any casting calls of that type any time soon.”

“Isn’t that what Cesar pays you to do?” I exclaimed. “To get me something?”

“I’m not a damn miracle worker.”

Excuses, that was all Duane gave me, excuses and bit parts for roles that I just couldn’t get into, no matter how many times I read the lines to myself, no matter how much I practiced my smile and my tears in front of the little mirror at the shared bathroom. I should just tell Cesar to fire him and get me someone new.

“Besides –come on, Val. Look at you,” he insisted, gesturing at me. “Never the right brands… You look like ragged JCPenney on a good day. If it weren’t for the trashy, wrong-side-of-the-tracks look you manage to pull, nobody would give you the time of day.”

“ Trashy ?” I almost yelled. Worst thing was, I knew he was kinda right. And, normally, I wouldn’t even care. I liked how I dressed. Just because I didn’t look like he wanted me to…

If only I could wear the expensive clothes Cesar gifted me. But I couldn’t risk it. I had to protect their resale value.

“… God –Val!”

“I’m sorry…!” I mumbled, pulling myself away from him. “I’m sorry… I thought you might like that—”

“ Like that!?”

Cesar rolled off me and sat on the edge of his bed, examining his neck on the many mirrors surrounding us. I looked away, at my own reflection, and quieted my breathing. His place was always so quiet. Even up there, though, in his penthouse, overlooking the city, I could hear the sirens.

“Jesus…”

“I said I’m sorry.”

“Did your last boyfriend like to be bitten?” he asked, touching the barely-there dent left by my teeth with the tip of his fingers. “Or was that right now just you feeling adventurous?”

I looked down, running my hands over the slippery white sheets. I didn’t do much when I was with Heath; I barely had to do anything, really, besides stay more or less still under him while he did his business.

“It’s going to leave a bruise…”

Put off by my little love bite, he pulled off his condom and got up on his feet. I looked down at the sheets wrapped around my leg. We had been dating for a long while now, but sometimes old shames resurfaced. For starters, I didn’t know what a condom was until Cesar and I had sex for the second time and he brought it up. He was absolutely scandalized by this, even calling me a couple pretty nasty things. I just didn’t know what to say. Guess I was lucky I never caught anything with Heath, all things considered. Cesar was always very concerned with cleanliness.

“What on Earth has come over you, Val?” he asked quietly, with his back to me, as he hopped into his boxers.

I laid on my back, staring up at the dark ceiling. “Come on, it wasn’t that hard… I just thought I’d like to try something different for once.”

“I didn’t know you liked that…” He ran his hand through his hair, flattening it down. His mouth shifted as if he was tasting something nasty but couldn’t quite spit it out. “… That kind of stuff.”

I just smiled and shrugged. “If you met me more often, you’d know that.”

“My dear, you know I’m busy—”

“You always say that…!”

“I’m just swamped. My head’s full with work, meetings, phone calls… I’ve two meetings before lunch. And lunch, I got with three business partners.”

I sighed, and rolled on the bed till I was down on my chest, resting my chin on my hands. “What about dinner?”

“Dinner…” He considered it for a moment. “I promised my mother I’ll be having dinner with her.”

“You could introduce her to me,” I said brightly, lilting my voice, taking care not to slip back into my real tone. “I’d love to meet her.”

“I don’t think it’s the right time.”

“What, are you ashamed of me, or something?” I joked before I could stop myself. “You think she wouldn’t like me?”

He didn’t answer. I frowned.

“So… Does that really mean we won’t be having dinner together tonight, either?” I pouted, changing the subject. “You owe me big time, sweetface. You got to take me out soon, or else I don’t know what I’ll do.”

Cesar smiled and looked away. He just didn’t take me seriously. But he loved me, I was sure of it. He spoiled me, respected me, and, every once in a while, took me out for dinner and dancing. He made love to me. He knew everyone worth knowing in New York. He was nice. He was tall. He was clean. We looked good together. But he had to know that something was wrong, something was missing. He had to feel it. If he didn’t, then he was even more selfish than I had thought.

I climbed off the bed, and stumbled into the bathroom to fix myself a bath. Didn’t seem like we were gonna do much of anything that night anyway.

“… I talked to Duane yesterday,” Cesar said.

I almost didn’t hear him over the sound of the burbling water. I just kept turning my fingers under the stream, waiting till it warmed up.

“You’re not going to auditions anymore.”

“What?”

I whipped my head around to see him standing behind me by the open door.

“I said—”

“Yes, I heard you,” I said with a frown. “But what do you mean?”

“I don’t think you’re taking this seriously, Val. I’m making a whole investment to get you what you asked for me, but you’re treating it like a silly whim. You know, I don’t think you actually want to put in the work, to be an actress… I think you just want attention.”

“I do take it seriously. It’s what I want to do with my life… It’s all I really want to do,” I said, as honestly as I could manage to sound. “I mean, I’m not planning to stay a waitress for the rest of my damn life!”

“It seems like that’s the way you’re headed, by the way things are going,” Cesar said. “Unless you actually make an effort, Val, you’re not going to get anywhere.”

I glared at him, waiting for him to tell me he was just joking. He just kept staring down at the now-full bathtub. As if he couldn’t bear to look at me.

With a sigh, I dove into the water. I dipped my head in for a moment, let it warm me up, and then I came out again, opening my mouth wide to take a deep breath, eyes still closed, and I ran my fingers through my hair, wondering if I looked good while doing so. Then I remembered I had a full face of makeup, and I hurried to wipe the probably dripping mascara off from under my eyes. I stared back at him, waiting to see my clownish look reflected in his face. Cesar just stared right back through me, with the same empty expression.

“… At least you’re honest,” I said, trying to joke again. “Even though it’s to the point of being hurtful.”

At least there was that. I had heard some horror stories from my coworkers at the Playhouse, stories about cheating boyfriends and shotgun marriages, all things I thought just happened to other people. And I tried so hard not to be jealous. But it was hard to, admittedly, when I was spending so much time away from my boyfriend, the busy businessman, the important, admired, popular man. It took a lot of practice, to trust him as much as I trusted him.

“Did you ever have any faith in me?”

He scoffed, looking away from me.

“You’re not willing to start from the bottom,” he replied. “Even though it would really do you some good to be humbled.”

“Maxine didn’t have to start from the bottom,” I argued.

“That’s because Maxine’s friends with a big producer.”

“And aren’t you friends with big producers?” I insisted. “Can’t they do you a favor?”

“I’m not going to waste all my favors with my friends to advance your career, Val,” he said, in that particular tone of voice he used when explaining stuff to me. At first it hadn’t annoyed me too much; he was older than me, and it figured that he knew some stuff I didn’t. As time passed, it became less of a cute quirk and more like demeaning bullshit. Like calling me ‘kid’. Like I was dumb or something. “You know, you can’t expect others to simply hand stuff down to you. You got to make something out for yourself.”

“The whole thing’s rigged, Cesar! I can’t possibly be the worst actress they’ve had,” I cried. “You seen what passes for acting on TV? The sort of actresses that get their big break?”

“Don’t blame others for your own inadequacy,” he said tiredly. “It is extremely immature.”

“Well, am I wrong?”

He didn’t answer me. Instead, he turned around and went back into the bedroom, and took a cigar from his dresser. I stared at him, waiting for him to offer me one. He didn’t. I huffed and picked a cigarette from a little silver box he had in the drawer of a phone table beside the tub.

“Well, I might just start showing more skin, then,” I shrugged, tapping the cigarette on the porcelain edge. “Bet that’ll help me get some good parts.”

Cesar snorted. “Yes, go ahead and sleep with a casting director, to make sure to seal the deal.”

I shot him a glare. “You pig,” I cried. “I’d never do that!”

“I thought you said you do take this seriously.”

“Well, I—"

I blinked, unsure of what he wanted me to say to that. Framed by the doorway between the bathroom and the bedroom, his dark silhouette against the brass lamps, Cesar lit his cigar. He was just being dramatic. He had to know how important this was to me. Besides, I bet he would have loved for me to be just as glamorous as his friends. Why wouldn’t he want me to become big and famous? Wouldn’t he rather have a star for a girlfriend, instead of a nobody?

My cigarette dangled from between my fingers. He clicked the lighter back off, and blew a cloud of smoke. I closed my hand, swallowing a curse.

“Whatever. I don’t care what you think,” I shrugged as I reached for the smaller plastic lighter I had left there in the drawer during my last bath. “I’m gonna be a star. You know why?”

Still shadowed, Cesar glanced at me, evidently not very interested in what I was saying. I grit my teeth as I lit the cigarette myself.

“I can be anything I want,” I said, and took a drag, and for a moment there I really believed it. “And I have nothing left to lose.”

His lips twitched in a half-hearted smile. Bringing the cigar to his mouth, he came back to the bathroom, crouched down beside the inground tub, and he dipped his hand in. The warm water swirled around my ankles. I closed my eyes and sighed, leaning my head back, waiting for a kiss. When I opened them again, Cesar was standing up and leaving the bathroom. It seemed he just couldn’t make up his mind.

“Where are you going now?”

“I’m still thinking about this offer… I’m going to head out.”

“Now? But I’m still here…!”

Cesar glanced at me over his shoulder. “You can see yourself out.”

“Wait—!”

He stopped, turned back to face me, and sighed. I bit my lip. All this time I had been waiting for him to bring it up, but it seemed like he had forgotten, too. That, or he was just too distracted at the moment by that damn business offer to really focus on me.

“Our anniversary’s coming up,” I said gently. “In about a month or so. Remember?”

Cesar thought for a moment. “Yes… Yes, I remember.”

“So, I was thinking, we could do something fun together,” I continued, trying to smile. “We could have dinner, for example… Without your mother –obviously.”

He said nothing for a while, but gave me an actual smile. It was better than nothing. “... Yes, that would be nice.”

“Would you take care of it?”

“Take care of dinner? I always do—”

“I mean, make a reservation somewhere fancy… Somewhere fit for an anniversary,” I insisted. “Somewhere romantic.”

“A dinner reservation.”

“Yes,” I nodded. “For Saturday. You think you can make it?”

“Saturday night?”

“Yes, Cesar, yes,” I repeated, rolling the cigarette up and down my fingers. “Please, sweetface… You know how important this is to me. I’m feeling so lonely as of late.”

Finally, he looked at me with something close enough to shame. He had to remember how awful I had felt when he had forgotten about my birthday. I had made enough of a hassle for him to remember it the rest of his life.

“Alright,” he said, rubbing his temples. “I’ll see what I can do.”

I frowned. What did he even mean by that? He was Cesar Romero –co-owner of the Playhouse, one if not the most exclusive nightclub in Manhattan –one of the main investors of a chain of restaurants I didn’t remember the name of –close friends with all sorts of Broadway royalty. What couldn’t he do? Any eatery in town would be groveling for him to patronize them.

“Look, Cesar, darling, if you’re not gonna even try, then I’ll take care of it and just make the damn reservation,” I finally said. “So don’t complain later if the place’s not up to par to your particular tastes.”

He disappeared behind the doorframe. One of the mirror doors beside his bed squeaked as he slid it open.

“Are you listening to me?”

No answer. My blood was boiling. I was about to scream his name, but I thought of something else, something I had been wanting to ask him for a while now. And it would do me good to rip off the band-aid right then, before the wound festered.

“Are you seeing someone else?”

This finally called his attention. He came back to the bathroom, now wearing an apple-green shirt. “Someone else?”

“Yes. Like, are you fucking someone else?”

Cesar just stood still, and stared at me as if I had slapped him across the face.

“For God’s sake, you once said I can be direct and say what I want,” I cried. “So, are you seeing someone else or not?”

“Of course I’m not!”

“Alright,” I smiled, and chuckled out of sheer relief. “Then it’s alright.”

He didn’t laugh. “It is very reassuring to see just how much you trust me,” he said. “I didn’t think you’d be this insecure, Val.”

I was losing him. I reached for his hand. He stepped back. He didn’t even let me touch him.

“Come here,” I said, forcing a smile. “Soak up with me.”

“No.”

“Come on…”

“And ruin my shirt?”

“So what? You got more shirts.”

“No, Val—”

“The water’s so nice—”

“I said no!”

I recoiled. Not out of fear, but out of sheer surprise. Smoking my cigarette, sinking back til I was almost touching the water with my chin, I wondered if I might have been pushing it a bit too far. Being too annoying, too insistent. My coworkers said it was quite the turnoff.

Cesar sighed, and finally got closer, close enough for me to finally see him clearly beyond the bathroom haze. “All I want, darling, is to relax after a hard day’s work… And all you want is attention, and noise, and thrills, and—”

“I thought you liked that about me,” I pouted. “My… My liveliness, or whatever. I thought you said I made you feel alive.”

“I guess there’s such a thing as too much of a good thing.”

Yes, I knew that, I knew that very well. I could easily remember my mother telling me the same, when I wanted one more cookie before bed, when I wanted five more minutes of cartoons, when I wanted to stay a little longer soaking in the bathwater.

He leaned forward, stroked my cheek, and finally kissed the top of my head. I held his hand tight, keeping him close by for just a moment longer.

“You love me… Right?”

Cesar sighed. “I do. Of course I do. But this is exactly what I mean with you being so needy, Val.”

Having said that, he pulled away from me. He left the bathroom and disappeared once more in the dimness of the bedroom. I remained still, listening carefully. His footsteps went beyond, muffled on the carpeted floors, farther and farther through the hall and into the living room, where I finally lost them. I looked downwards, into the steaming water. From between my legs, a thin thread of blood floated up to the surface.

Fifth Avenue was always crowded, even during office hours. It was a hot, bright, sticky sunny day, and I wished I hadn’t spent my last dollar, so I could still have enough for an ice cream cone. The storefronts had their little awnings fully stretched, under which several people gathered to escape the scorching sunlight. I passed by walls covered in ads featuring the models and actresses I saw at work, Carole and Mimi and Leanne, posing seductively, dressed, if at all, in the latest fashions. If everything else failed, I might be able to become a model. I heard it has an easier entrance than acting –though I didn’t really believe it could be that rewarding. Standing still just to be photographed seemed rather boring; then again, people do really do anything for money.

After a few more blocks I reached the big expensive stores, the ones that always had very few customers. I had another bite of my pizza while I window-shopped, swaying from side to side, finding the perfect angle through which I could catch a good look at the goods on the other side of the glass, without the pesky reflection of the real world coming in between. There was one specific jewelry store I always liked to pass by, which had tiny displays, as if only daring to show a peek of what they could really offer. The diamond rings glittered like a mirror ball, like the sequin-covered dresses of the dancers that came with the night. I let out a deep sigh. I wondered what they felt like, once you slipped one in your finger. The ones I had always left me with ugly green stains.

Just a couple steps from it, perfectly aware of the mindset of those shopping for such things, there was a bridal store. Another one I spent probably too much time staring at and daydreaming of. I sucked the sauce and pizza grease off my fingers, gazing at the white-wrapped mannequins, arms outstretched, like they were about to be embraced by their grooms. There were only a few days before Cesar and I’s anniversary as a couple. He had forgotten my last birthday, which of course had really bothered me –but I was sure he would remember this one special date, the day and month in which we had first kissed, in which we had finally become a couple. We’d been dating steady for quite awhile now. And, beyond the weeks without so much as a little surprise in my locker, I was certain that he still loved me just as much as the first day. It was just that he was just a busy man, I told myself. Of course a rich successful man like him would be busy.

Out the corner of my eye, I saw a cop having turned around the corner, patrolling the street. He glanced back at me. I gave a couple steps, still with my eyes fixed on the bridal displays, so it didn’t seem like I was doing anything suspicious.

I knew that my mother had married pretty young, around the age I was right then. I would have given anything to marry like she did, I thought, to have my photo taken like she did, with her bright, never-to-be-seen-again smile, on the happiest day of her life. I wondered if Cesar had ever considered if, in the three years we had been together, we should get married. Maybe I could even invite my family: once they saw just what a good catch I had caught, they would be proud of me, happy for me. I was sure my mother would love him for me. And, of course, Cesar would cut a striking figure in a fancy tux, and he certainly had the money for a truly unforgettable reception.

Still annoyed by the stare of that cop, I chased a hopping pigeon and hurried to cross the street to the next store, and gazed at a display of elegant summer dresses, at the brightly-colored chiffon and silk, draped so beautifully over the shiny plastic of the mannequins. I thought of the silver dress Cesar had gifted me. Still no opportunity to wear it. Last time I had worn something as nice as those high-end gowns was when I had caved in, last Christmas, and I went along with him to the opera, the first and last time we had gone to a show together –and it went as well as it sounds. I had fallen asleep halfway through, and Cesar had been so mad at me.

I thought of all the bands I had the chance to see at the Bowery, those times the money I got from the resales would allow me a little extra cash by the end of the week. Along with the times I went to the movies, it was really there, among the crowd, where I felt the most free. Once, at one of these gigs, this singer ripped up a wedding dress on stage –and after my initial shock –it had felt like a revelation. It amazed me, how she looked like just another pretty face that would show up dangling from a suit’s arm at the Playhouse, but she still had this edge to her, a magnetism and an energy I couldn’t quite place. I wanted what she had. ‘ Star quality ’, I felt was a good way to put it. Duane said that you’re born with it or you’re not: that it was the difference between a protagonist and a side character. Me, I wasn’t so sure. All I knew is that it was the life I wanted. No waiting by the bleachers for life to happen to me –I’d take the bull by the horns, doing what I wanted to do, instead of what others wanted me to be. All I needed was that one chance.

It was a bummer that I went to these concerts on my own, though. I was so used to hanging around Heath and Jack, and now I felt so alone.

“Hey! You!” the cop shouted at me from the corner of the block, making me jump. “Yes, you! Stop loitering—!”

“I’m just hanging around!” I shouted back. “I’m not doing anything—!”

He started walking faster towards me. I gripped the switchblade handle inside my bag –but didn’t take it out –just ran off, trusting that he was just trying to shoo me away. Not the first time it happened to me, and probably not the last time, either. If the stores didn’t want people staring at their displays, they shouldn’t have made them so spellbindingly beautiful in the first place.

But I definitely needed to stop wasting time. Cesar and I’s anniversary would be coming soon, and I needed to start planning how we would celebrate the occasion.

The sky was already dark by the time I got back to the Broslin. I glared at the flickering red neon sign, as if that would magically fix it. That night I didn’t have my shift: they were doing some remodeling at the Playhouse, or something like that, so the clubbers of Manhattan would have to find somewhere else to go. Me, I didn’t have much choice.

“Mama’s back, girls,” I said, opening the door to my room.

Neatly set on top of the non-functioning radiator was my little doll collection, my few true friends and roommates: a Crissy doll, a Cher doll, a Rock Flower doll (without the record, obviously, since I didn’t have where to play it), a Pork’N’Beans doll, and a rather tatty Lazy Dazy. Five wasn’t half bad for a starting collection, even if none of them were particularly rare. What I wanted most was this gorgeous Samantha the Witch doll I had seen in an old Sears Christmas catalog, but I hadn’t had any luck yet, finding my holy grail. Still, I saved the cutout of the magazine on the wall next to my bed, keeping me hopeful.

I gave a deep sigh, sitting on the cot and unbuckling my shoes. Hope didn’t come easy. Twenty-two days had passed without seeing Cesar. One time he had answered my payphone calls, and promised me we would have dinner together that Friday night. Friday night came, and he wasn’t at his office, and his secretary told me he had an emergency to attend to. After that, radio silence. And I was getting sick and tired of having to worry both about seeming too detached and seeming too desperate. I hated that guilt –but I still had it, that feeling of guilt to want so much. To need so much. Boys never like that in a girlfriend, girls hate that in a friend.

Someone across the hall was playing music from a radio, loudly, loud enough for me to hear it as clearly as if it was playing in my own room. It was a common occurrence. Some months ago, I would have still tried to knock on the door and tell them to keep it down –but I knew better, now. Nothing would change if I complained. Not that I could really blame them. Personally, if someone complained to me, I’d probably turn the music even louder just to spite them.

Apart from the dolls I had a bunch of clothes thrown around, a few more or less folded, some hanging from a nail on the wall between the exposed wires. Most were all crumpled on the floor, my jean shorts and my band t-shirts and my two pairs of shoes and my five different belts. Along with them, some still bearing the marks of my shoe soles after accidentally stepping on them, was my collection of magazines, and a few sewing projects I had abandoned and knew I should finish but I never found the time to, and in a corner, a small pile of books I had picked up during my thrift shop trips. Little pulp romance novels, mostly, but also a Betty Crocker cookbook (the same edition that my mother would check with once in a while back at home), a dusty bible to press flowers in, and three or four cheap paperback spellbooks I consulted with every week or so.

I had attempted to cast almost all the love spells I had found in them –except for one. The latest purchase had a chant I hadn’t tried yet, so I decided it wouldn’t hurt to try. From inside my bag I took out my compact mirror, and from inside the compact I took out a little braid I had made, out of hair secretly plucked from Cesar’s hairbrush in the bathroom of his penthouse. He’d be so weirded out if he found out about it. I was aware of it. Still, desperate times call for desperate measures.

Among a whole bunch of junk that had piled up from under my bed, I found what was left of a red candle I kept for my little spells. It had been so worn down there was only a couple inches for me to light up, to get a few seconds before the wick drowned in the melted wax. I needed to work quick. I opened the spellbook and went to the page I had dogeared. Once I read it to myself a couple times, like practicing the lines for an audition, getting the rhythm and the words just right, I finally lit the candle with my cigarette lighter, and could begin.

“ Let Cesar yearn for me, desire me. Let this love come forth from the spirit and enter him, ” I chanted, eyes tightly shut, and brought the braid of hair closer to the flame –until it caught on fire, and slowly burned through. “ Let him love me as he has loved nothing before. I love him, want him, and he must feel the same for me… Let him burn with love for me. ”

I repeated the chant two more times, until the braid had completely burned out and I was left with just a bunch of ashes on the tip of my fingers. Once that was done, I kept quiet, still, waiting. I don’t know why I always expected something to happen immediately –something I could notice, some shift in the universe.

Instead, I got nothing, not even a prickly feeling in my thumbs or a tingling down my spine. I huffed and threw myself on the lumpy mattress. I knew I should have lit the candle with an actual match, rather than my lighter.

Nights were for sleeping, or so my mother used to tell me. Not for me. Nights were for staying up and reorganizing your closet, or brushing your dolls’ hair, or brushing your own hair, or plucking little ingrown hairs in your eyebrows till you had to throw the tweezers out the window so you didn’t end up without any eyebrows at all. Usually, last year or so, I kept myself nice and still by fantasizing about the interviews I’d give, once I became a famous actress, the characters I’d play, the stunning gowns I’d wear for photographs. But lately those fantasies had been less and less defined. They all came with the little caveat of feeling like I was lying to myself, and not even in the fun way anymore.

I rolled off my side to lay flat on my back, staring up at the ceiling. A big fat black spider crawled across it, over the growing crack that spread around the dangling lightbulb over my head. It was a warm summer night, and the world was awake and sweaty and restless. The arguing couple next door was arguing even louder. I rubbed my eyelids. Laying there on the bed, with a wall in between, they sounded just like my mom and dad. I wondered if, without me in the picture, they had managed to make up.

The yelling was joined by the usual breathing and moaning from the other room next to mine, the one belonging to the whore who worked night hours, just like me. Luck would have it that I was home to enjoy her and her client’s little concert. I groaned, covering my face with the pillow. And apart of the noise they made, and the arguing couple in the other building, with my ear now too tuned to the racket to be able to ignore it, I could also hear the crying of a baby somewhere in the neighborhood, and some drunkard shouting curses on the street, and the sirens in the distance, the sirens that never left…

I needed something to keep my mind off of it, or I would go mad.

I closed my eyes and, between all the noise, managed to focus on the panting. He was much louder than Cesar ever was, but it was good enough. I didn’t need much, really. With one hand I unbuttoned my skirt, with the other I fondled my chest under my t-shirt. I thought about his soft hands, his soft lips, his soft hair. But Cesar never did it like I did. I shut my eyes a bit tighter, hurrying a bit, now hearing a hand banging the other side of the wall behind my head. I didn’t give a shit about how he did it, what mattered was that it was done. I brought my knees closer, took in a deep breath, and shoved a couple fingers in. A little too soon. I had to focus, dammit. Otherwise, I would just end up frustrated and with nothing but dirty hands and bruises on the inside of my thighs.

“Come on...”

I wished I had a mirror to see myself with, to know whether I looked needy and desperate or if I managed to still look good, barely opening my mouth, arching my back, sprawled all over the dirty little bed. I wondered if Cesar would have liked to watch me like this.

My mind began to shift away from Cesar and his white silk sheets, to travel back to the hall, echoing with the radio music. The broken pipe that the hotel never fixed. I could feel the rusty metal of the pipe scratching the palm of my hand, its weight tensing my arm –and I would kick down the door of the whore’s room –and impale the two of them, nailing them to the bed. They’d let out a quick scream –and then, they’d finally shut up for good. I’d make my way to the room of the guy with the radio, and I’d grab it and bash him with it over and over, till it cracked his head open like an egg, his shriveled rotting brain spilling out like runny yolk. And then, I’d return to my room, pick up my shoe, open my window and smash the flickering hotel sign enough times to fully break it, and it would fall onto the screeching drunkard on the street with a loud crash and squash him flat in a beautiful burst of sparks—

I opened my mouth and gasped. It was a little orgasm, nothing Earth-shattering, nothing to write home about. But it was something. It was better than nothing.

I raised my chin, puckering my lips, checking my lipstick was even. There were a couple little lumps under the layer of blush on my cheeks –a mole near my mouth and a few old pimple scars, mostly, that one could only notice if one was looking for them, I hoped. I turned my face to the side, examining my profile, the slope of my nose, my chin. I had cheekbones, but nowhere near as dramatic or impressive as Cesar’s, or as Sally’s. I quickly rubbed and wiped the blush off my cheeks with a tissue, to reapply it a little higher, to at least make up an illusion. Behind me, the other goody girls in the changing room were chatting among themselves, talking about their weekend plans, the last movie release, how their families were doing. I glanced at them through the mirror. Laurie was leafing through a Cosmo, Suzy was brushing out her hair, Nancy was adding some glitter to her eyelids, and Sally hadn’t arrived yet.

“Who’s finishing their shift early tonight?” Judy asked. “Please someone spare me from having to walk back home alone.”

“You heard about Son of Sam’s latest letter, too?”

“Can’t believe he’s still out ‘n about, and that the cops aren’t doing anything useful ‘bout it...”

“Me and all my girlfriends, we give each other a call, soon as we get back home, just so we know we’ve not kicked the bucket yet.”

“Grisly stuff...”

“Has a thing for brunettes, that psycho, or so I’ve read.”

“Good thing I’m a blonde, then!”

I chuckled and agreed in silence before looking back at myself in the mirror. If I lowered my chin and looked up, my eyes seemed bigger, and my cheeks didn’t appear as chubby. I pressed my lips together. Maybe I had gone a bit too far, maybe I looked a bit garish. It almost looked like back when I was a kid, in front of the bathroom mirror, when makeup was still this wild, exciting grown-up thing to explore and master.

‘Back when I was a kid’. As I was that old already.

“Hey, you’re a Cancer, right, Val?” Laurie asked me.

“No—”

“Oh, right –Scorpio…”

“No, I’m a Sagittarius!”

“Oh,” she said, and shot me a glance. “… Wouldn’t have guessed.”

I huffed, leaning back on my chair and adjusting the uniform’s halter top, making sure my tits looked good. Sally had told me that I should buy myself a push-up bra: they usually went a long way to get extra tips. “So? What does the future have in store for me?”

“ ‘Positive planets will shower you with blessings this week. You’ll be able to make difficult decisions that will pay off in the long run,’ ” she read out loud. “ ‘However, your planets will be negative during the last few days of the week. You’ll become disengaged from your responsibilities. You won ‘ t be able to appreciate your work either. The good news is that powerful forces are working behind the scenes to help you achieve great accomplishments.’ ”

“What does that mean?”

“It means everything that goes up must come back down again.”

“You don’t need a cheap magazine to tell me that,” Suzy said, brushing her hair.

Laurie went on reading the Cancer horoscope. I kept pulling at my own hair, wondering what it would take for it to look better, less shaggy, a little more put-together. I knew someone in there had a pair of scissors. I was so fed up with my look, I thought I might just start chopping.

“What would be a good anniversary gift?” I asked out loud. It was ugly to realize that I didn’t know Cesar well enough to know what he’d like.

Among other options I was considering, I thought of doing a reworking of that one time I had tried to shoplift lingerie from the mall, back at Hackensack, for Heath. This time I’d actually pay for it. That would be a nice enough gift –me, doing my best to put a smile on his face, looking prettier than ever. Still, as much as I would like for him to show me off, it felt appropriate to also get him something that could be actually useful.

“Do guys like wristwatches?” I insisted, even louder, trying to call the other good girls’ attention. “I know where I could get him one. Or maybe one of those beautiful Italian leather shoes I’ve seen on the stores by Madison Avenue, instead. Or a shaving mirror…”

I’ve been curious to know what he looked like without that silly mustache of his for a few months now. A couple times, while he slept next to me, I fantasized about picking a razor from the bathroom and shaving it off. Not that I would ever do it, of course. But it was fun to imagine, especially during that weird in-between time, in which I wanted so badly to stay beside him but I couldn’t sleep and was just lying next to him, staring at him, memorizing every little detail of his handsome face, bored out of my mind.

“He probably has all the wristwatches he could ever want,” I huffed, turning back to my own reflection. “And all the Italian shoes, and all the shaving mirrors—”

“Oh my God –Jerry Hall’s leaving Bryan Ferry for Mick Jagger!” Laurie shouted, waving the magazine around.

They all gasped and flocked around her, trying to catch a peek of the news. I kept grumbling under my breath. They were all just jealous of me. They all saw the gifts that showed up in my locker, they all knew who the ‘C’ that neatly signed the cards was. They all wished they were dating someone as sophisticated and chivalrous as my Cesar.

“What size did you say those shoes were?” Colin asked me at the bar. “’Cause I got this friend who’d be interested in buying them from you.”

“I’m actually thinking about keeping them,” I told him, running my thumb over the edge of the glass. “At least, for the time being.”

Colin shot Jamie an impressed little glance, doing a funny grimace. “And here I was, thinking you’d want to get rid of all those things as soon as humanly possible… All those heavy, voluminous, annoying luxury trifles—”

“Where do you even keep your treasure trove, little mermaid?”

“Wouldn’t you like to know,” I smiled with a quirk of my eyebrows.

Just on the edge of the dance floor I could see Jess, my bitch of a boss, smoking a cigarette, watching over the rest of the goody girls. I needed to get back to work –but I was still unsure whether or not to get the deal done with those silver stilettos Cesar had gifted me, or if to wait for a better offer. Whatever money I got with that deal, I thought, I could spend on an actually nice, expensive gift for him. Something he’d truly love.

“I was, um… I was thinking,” I began saying. “You know, because our anniversary’s coming up—”

“Our anniversary?” Jamie gasped, opening his eyes wide and gripping my hand. “So soon already? My goodness, how time flies…”

I chuckled. “Mine and Cesar ’s anniversary, you silly… It’s coming this Saturday, and I need to know what I should get him... ‘Cause I want it to be special. Something he doesn’t have yet, something only I could give him. I want him to see just how much he means to me.”

“Doesn’t he know you’re half broke?”

“He’s the man, Val –he’s not only the man, he’s ‘the’ man… Don’t you worry your pretty little head about it.”

“I bet he’s got a lovely surprise planned for you…” Ernie said.

“I mean, he... He forgot about my birthday last year,” I said with a little nervous laugh. “So… Maybe, if I don’t take care of it… He won’t, either.”

“What is it you expect from him?” Colin asked me, resting a hand on his golden-clad hips. “A marriage proposal?”

“That wouldn’t be half bad,” I admitted. “But… I don’t know what I’m expecting. I just want us to spend some nice time together—”

“Is he that good in bed?”

The three of them got snickering and giggling like schoolkids. I rolled my eyes and elbowed Ernie, the one standing closest to me. “I’m being serious. This isn’t just about sex.”

“Of course not. It’s about cold hard cash, too.”

“A side of sex’s not bad, though—”

“One for the other, and with a surprisingly generous man—”

“Lot of girls would kill to be in your tiny shoes,” Colin said, glancing at the other goody girls in the crowd, their grinning faces as they deployed the whole set of fake laughs and praises to earn their tips. “If I were in yours, I’d just be thankful.”

“And you’re so lucky… Imagine getting so many beautiful things from your lover,” Ernie smiled. “You must really be his top girl, Val.”

“Truly, you got him eating out the palm of your hand, darling,” Colin said, letting out a deep sigh. “I simply wish I had that level of success with my own daddies.”

“Huh?”

“Oh, please –you don’t gotta play coy, Miss Val,” Jamie said with a sly grin of his own. “Nobody’s fooling anyone here.”

“What the hell are you talking about?” I cried. Slowly, the realization hit me. “Jesus, you guys and your dirty thoughts. I’m not a gold-digger.”

“Right. And you just didn’t know that the guy was loaded.”

“He walked right into your trap, there’s no shame in admitting you ensnared him fair and square.”

“But… I haven’t ‘ensnared’ him, or whatever,” I quickly said. “I’m just his girlfriend. It doesn’t mean anything, that he’s got his money. I would’ve liked him anyways.”

Colin burst out laughing, followed immediately by Jamie, and then Ernie laughed a bit too, though he didn’t seem to really know what he was laughing about. “Sure, Val, sure. Whatever helps you sleep at night.”

I scoffed at him. Of course I would have liked him anyways. Just because the first thing I noticed about him was how glamorous he was, and that our first date was in his big expensive car, didn’t mean that I was with him for the economic perks. Just because I resold most if not all of the gifts he gave me for some extra pocket change didn’t mean that it was the only reason I hung around. After all, I loved him. And he loved me, too. Who cared if we barely did anything together anymore, besides dancing and fucking. Who cared what others thought when they saw me coming out of the backseat of his car. Who cared what the other goody girls thought when they noticed the white roses and the wrapped presents he left in my locker at the changing room for me. Cesar loved me. And I was not a whore.

“Fuck you all. You don’t know me—”

“We know enough, Val.”

“Yes… You’re like a little slut who doesn’t know yet she’s one.”

I elbowed him, harder than I had ever elbowed Bri, hard enough to actually hurt. Problem is, Jamie was much stronger than me. He just laughed as if he had been tickled.

“Not that there’s anything wrong with that—!”

“Shut up!” I yelled. “Shut the fuck up!”

Ernie was the only one who stopped laughing, suddenly startled, to stare at me with eyes wide open in dumb surprise. As if it was a surprise that I didn’t like being called a slut. We were nowhere near close enough for any of them to call me whatever shit they wanted –especially not something I knew Cesar would get the wrong idea from, if he ever found out.

“Aw, donʼ make that face, Val,” Ernie said, pulling a strand of hair off my face. “You know they’re just joking…”

“I just worry… He might not love me anymore,” I said, about to pinch the bridge of my nose before remembering just how long it had taken me to get my eyeshadow looking right. “It’s stupid, I know, but… I feel I’m doing everything here, all the damn effort, and he—”

“All the effort?” Colin laughed. “Baby, all you gotta do is look pretty. You picked the wrong line of work.”

“Shush, Colin. Val, is there something wrong? Did something happen?”

I smiled at Ernie, the only good-natured one of the bunch. At least he tried to care for me.

“No, nothing really happened… It’s just a feeling I get. But I don’t know, I might be imagining things.” I was about to down my rum and coke, but thought it over. “He really must be just tired, and busy… I’m just being too desperate.”

“What do you care, how you come across?” Jamie asked me with a frown. “You’re living it up with the boss, least you could do is have some fun with it. And if he doesn’t like that, well, the king can get himself another courtesan.”

“Exactly. Just enjoy it while it lasts.”

“You just don’t get it,” I huffed, turning the glass in my hand. “It’s not like that… I really, really love him.”

“She what?”

“She said she loves him.”

“She what ?”

“I do love him. And…” I hesitated. “… He cares for me. Isn’t that the same as love?”

Colin scoffed, plucking a bag of ludes from my tray when he thought I wasn’t looking, or at least that I wouldn’t necessarily complain. I knew what they were thinking. I was just being pathetic, moaning over my long-term boyfriend, who gave me everything, who still thought of me enough to want to give me the world.

“I’m just… I’m tired of waiting for him to prove it to me. Really prove it, I mean,” I thought out loud. “So far, I feel like I’m… Yes, I guess –that I’m really just his… His mistress.”

‘Mistress’ sounded better than ‘personal whore’, but not by much. It still sounded like there was no affection there at all. And I knew that there had to be something else between us, something real, beyond an occasional fuck. You just don’t stay for so long with someone who only wants you in bed. He and I, we had a connection. That was the only way to explain it, back there on the dance floor, when we first realized that we had something going on.

“Cesar must have been right,” I finally said. “I might just be too damn insecure.”

“Here, baby,” Ernie said sympathetically, selecting a cellophane bag from my tray. “Looks like you need it.”

I shot him a look, but he was right. My mood swings had gotten worse than usual, and I didn’t have much of a choice if I wanted to stay sane. Dumping some on the back of my hand, I pushed it into a little pile with my nail, and snorted it down. Then I closed the cellophane bag again. After all, I needed to make some sales.

“Thanks, sweetface,” I said with a sigh, gesturing to the bar for another drink.

There are only two things wrong with blow: the bitterness and the comedown. The comedown can’t be helped. The bitterness can be softened with something with more of a sugary kick, most of the time. Never with alcohol –which only makes it worse: not just the taste, but the comedown’s even more awful if you’re also stone-cold drunk. It could keep me in a wonderful high for an hour or so, but it also messed me up to a point I was so wound up each time I got more than a minimum dose, I got sort of afraid of what I would do. Sometimes, it’s like I can only feel one emotion at a time.

It was not the best quality, but it was still better than the alternative of an aspirin and a tequila shot. Once the dripping bitter flavor was fully washed away with a whole glass of bubbly iced soda, I stayed by the bar and waited, watching the dance floor, for it to kick in. Sure enough, after a few seconds I got the tingly warm feeling in my arms and legs, announcing the high was coming. My face soon was warm too, slightly blushed, and I could feel myself glowing. I giggled, covering my mouth with my hand, and told myself to just enjoy it and don’t think about it too much.

Not that I had much choice, really. The euphoria was irresistible, and it had a special magical pull on my cheeks to force a big grin on my face. Suddenly I was happy, pure and simple, and it didn’t take long for me to start talking to a few clients, laughing and joking with them, as I turned friendlier, flirtier, easier to talk to, the employee of the goddamn month –I looked around, checking if someone else needed my service –to buy something from my little tray –and for a while I was hypnotized by the sheer beauty around me –as if it was the first time I saw it –as everyone looked better than ever, the men and women were jaw-droppingly gorgeous, sweat sparkling on slick skin like rhinestones, glamour-shot by flickers of purple and green light, dancing with slithering, smooth moves, and I closed my eyes, swaying along, because even the music sounded better, louder, clearer, and I danced, too, modestly at first, before really letting loose, and the walls flashed blinding red like a warning, and the women parted their lips in sighs and moans, as they raised their arms to the sky as if chanting incantations, and the men were like ghosts, all shadowed eyes and big gaping mouths and nothing to tell them apart under the bright blue light, and we all glowed, we all almost floated off the smoke on the floor, like walking on clouds, and I felt a necklace of sweat setting on my collarbone, my head becoming warmer, and by then I wasn’t even selling anything anymore I was just enjoying myself and trying my best not to think about him and I shook my head and bumped into the other dancers and someone told me something I didn’t hear, I just kept dancing, and the red lights pierced my eyes and the blue shadows kept surrounding me and moving closer and closer and I felt their skin against mine and I got the first twinge of panic that I tried to shake off but barely managed to, and the swirling sweet and bitter taste that was still nested in the bottom of my throat began bubbling up again in a ball of bile and I turned my head back to force it back down and someone shoved me and a wave of vertigo hit me like an incoming train and the dizziness didn’t get better after a couple minutes because it just turned worse and my racing pulse had become almost like a buzzing in my ears and I couldn’t find my way back to the bar for another coke and I kept on stumbling on other people and failing to grab onto their silky clothes and I got deathly afraid I would fall to the blinking dancefloor and with that I’d be tramped and ground into dust, I could feel my heart in my head and not in the good way, not anymore, and the eyes of the blue shadows turned to glance at me, and then they became stares, and then I was choking a scream, and the music kept blasting and the lights kept flashing in a way that was almost comforting despite everything and I managed to push my way out the dance floor and to the changing room, where I collapsed on a chair and grabbed my throbbing head and wished I had a joint or a rum and coke to wind down a bit.

“Val?” a familiar voice softly called out. “You okay?”

Sally approached me, her short hair dusted with sparkles, her tan skin shifting shades as she got away from the door and closer to the lightbulbs of the changing room mirrors.

“Yeah, I just…” I chuckled, patting the table in search of a forgotten cigarette. “It hit me a bit harder than usual, is all.”

She nodded, with a little smile on the edge of her glossy lips. It was rude to stare, but I couldn’t help myself. I sold goods to a bunch of actresses and models on the regular, but none were half as beautiful as Sally, for my two cents.

“… I heard you’ve got an anniversary coming up.”

“Yes!” I nodded, happy to know that at least someone had actually listened to me. “Yes, this Saturday night… I’ve already made the reservation for our dinner. And I think I know what I’m gonna get for his present, but…”

Sally blinked, lowering her head towards me, gently urging me to go on.

“… I’m… I don’t know if he’s even… I’m just a bit worried, you know?” I muttered, wringing my hands. “’Cause I think that he still loves me, but… But he doesn’t…”

How could I even say it, that he didn’t show it to me anymore? I was probably sounding like a whiny baby. I looked up at her, thinking about that nerdy four-eyed boyfriend of his she had so excitedly introduced us to. Despite his looks, she always had nice things to say about him. She was lucky. She seemed perfectly happy with him.

“I’m sure he does. You two have been together for a while, right?”

I nodded, squeezing my hands between my knees. I still felt my heart racing in my ears, but at least the world wasn’t spinning around me anymore.

“And he’s… He’s like the owner, or something, of this whole place, right?”

I nodded again.

“Maybe he’s just worried that you’re only in for the money… I mean, you’re his employee, in a kind of way—”

“But it’s not like that at all—”

“I know, Val, I know… But does he know?” she asked me. “I think that’s what’s important.”

Cesar had to know. I always told him how much I wanted to see him, how much I loved him, how important he was to me. If I only wanted gifts from him, I wouldn’t be so insistent. Yes, he had to know. But, in any case, it was something that he might need to be reminded of, every once in a while.

Sally patted my hair, which was probably a mess after all that wild dancing I had been doing. “You know what lifts my spirits, when I’m feelin’ down?”

“A bucket of uppers?”

She laughed. Sally had a cute, girlish laugh, sweet enough to be charming, not quite high enough to be annoying. It was difficult to imagine someone like her ever feeling down.

“I like to spend a day at the beauty parlor. You know, have my nails done, my hair washed, the full works,” she said with a wink. “It’s really nice to be pampered every once in a while.”

She fished a little piece of paper from the table, and made a gesture for me to turn around. I did so. She pressed the paper on my sweaty back, found a pencil somewhere, and wrote an address on the back of it, digging the tip so it would leave a mark. I felt it sticking like a rub-on tattoo.

“My friend works here, it’s the best you could ever find in Manhattan. Tell ‘em I sent you. They’ll make sure you’re treated right.”

She handed me the little paper, and asked me if I could read her handwriting all right. I laughed, and, surprising even myself, I gave her a tight hug and a thrilled thank-you.

I arrived a bit earlier than usual to my shift at the Playhouse the next day, making my way to Cesar’s office. There I met up with his secretary, and asked her about his favorite restaurants, the sort of place she knew he would love. After some cajoling, she finally told me that my best option to win him over was to get us a reservation to Hulanicki, an exclusive place he only went with very close friends and the people he liked to impress. Sounded just about perfect. Heading back down to the changing room, I got Jess to allow me to make a social call, and I booked us two a table. And, when that was done with, I even took the time to go back upstairs to his office, and make sure that his secretary would write down and remind him of the date, place and time for the dinner reservation. There, I thought, it wasn’t half bad. Cesar had no excuse for not being able to make an effort and take a minute and do this sort of thing himself.

Next up, the gift. After much thought I had decided I would get him a cigar cutter: the one he had in his office had lost its edge, and I liked the idea of getting him something that he would use so frequently. I smiled to myself, gazing at the display of options at the counter of the shop around the corner, thinking about Cesar thinking about me before having a smoke. The little cigar cutter box was giftwrapped in silver plastic, I paid a little extra for a red bow to be tied around it, and once that was all done with, I shoved it in my bag.

Having taken care of that, I kept in mind that, once I got out the beauty parlor, I would have to pick up my shift at the Playhouse before I got to our reservation at the Hulanicki. I would dress up for once. I picked the only sundress I had, light and pretty, white and polka-dotted, which I had worn for a couple auditions where I had wanted to play the ingenue. It was cheaper than my boyfriend’s gifts, but it was a nice middle ground between what I liked and what he wanted to see me in.

And, of course, since I was confident there would be plenty of time to spend together after dinner, underneath the white polka-dot dress I wore the best lingerie I owned. Black lace push-up bra, stockings, garters –the whole shebang.

I had never been to a beauty parlor before –that was, as a customer. I had tried for jobs there a couple times, unsuccessfully. My mother would pay the place a visit once or twice a year, on her own, for the occasional primping and preening for a wedding or funeral. Most of the time she did her own hair and nails; I learned a good deal of what I knew from watching her. When I attended Heath’s home parties I learned a lot about makeup with the other girls who taught me. Stuff like hair, though, was my mother’s specialty. It couldn’t possibly be easy to turn deep black into bright even red with the same consistency she did.

“What’re you having, sweetheart?” one of the women there, with dark, sleek, straight hair asked me once I stepped in.

“The full works,” I said, following her to a chair. “Hair, nails, makeup…”

“Ooh, you got a special event coming up?”

“A special dinner, tonight,” I grinned. “And I need to look my best.”

The woman nodded and smiled, gestured to the chair for me to sit, and laid a black cape over my shoulders and chest. Once my hands were covered too, I dug my nails on the armrests of the chair, and hoped they wouldn’t notice. I still remembered when I had first tried to bleach my hair, how, even with a botched bathroom job, I still ended up looking like someone else completely. I could only try and dare to imagine how I’d end up looking once I left the place.

First off, they washed my hair: they got all the grime and grease out, shampooed and conditioned it, blow-dried it and brushed it thoroughly. Once it was nice and shiny, it was time for bleaching, to even out the color and retouch my roots. My head was soon covered in aluminum sheets. I giggled at my reflection, looking like a satellite. While the chemicals did their job, the stylist handed me a bunch of magazines and asked me what style I had in mind. Originally I’d just thought of going back to my choppy, uneven cut. It was easy to care for, and I liked the tough look it gave me, a real don’t-fuck-with-me kinda style. But, after leafing through the photos of models, I decided to take a chance and try something more romantic –soft curls, nice and voluminous, barely touching my shoulders. It was viable, since my hair had gotten rather long after such a while without a trim.

“—So he told me that I was being insecure. But I don’t know,” I finished saying with a shrug. “I think it was a logical thing to think… When there’s these long stretches of time between each chance we get to meet, when he’s never around for me to meet up with him, what else am I supposed to think?”

They all nodded, the stylists and their clients. The sun was already setting, filling the salon with a soft yellow light. I glanced at the clock in the wall: I still had a few hours left before the reservation at the Hulanicki.

“But what do you think?” a woman with feathered hair asked me. “Do you really think you’re being insecure, or dramatic, or whatever?”

“I… I think I might be, but… I don’t know. I’m just nervous that, whatever I’m doing, he’s gonna be annoyed by it. Or worse, ashamed of me—”

“Is he really ashamed of you?”

“Well, we don’t spend enough time out together for him to really show it—”

“But when you two are together, do you feel that he’s, y’know, ashamed of having you around?”

I opened my mouth to reply, before I realized I didn’t quite know the answer to that question. Of course, I didn’t want to believe that he was. But it wasn’t a matter of belief. I knew I couldn’t lie to myself about something like that. So I focused, staring at my reflection in the mirror, and went over the memory of his dark brown eyes, and of each time he had looked at me without a smile.

“He… He is,” I finally mumbled, as if finally knowing hadn’t hit me that hard. “I think.”

“And are you ashamed of yourself?”

“No. Yes. I think—”

“It’s not what you think, honey, it’s what you feel,” she said. “What do you feel?”

Shame was not the word… When he glanced at me over my shoulder when I suggested going out, I was angry. When he stared at me across the bedroom while I changed back into my clothes, I was angry. When he glared at me while complaining about my lack of manners, I was angry. By that point I was just really good at keeping my mouth shut, looking down, biting my tongue. Because I knew that, if I said something, then we would fight –and then that would mean I would say something he’d be really ashamed of, and wish he hadn’t picked me up that winter night. Cesar could feel however he wanted. I wouldn’t be ashamed of who I was and what I liked.

“I feel angry .”

“Good. Worst thing you can do in a relationship is to feel like your man’s too good for you.”

“Preach,” the woman with the straight hair sighed, gesturing up to the ceiling, and the other woman nodded along.

“Whatever you do, darling, do it with gusto. Never be ashamed,” the other one said, running the side of the scissor blade through the hair. “If someone tries to get you to do something you’d be ashamed of, either get proud real quick, or get going. Never give ‘em an inch.”

“Exactly,” the straight-haired woman nodded. “Shamelessness’ the way to go. It’s not something you can fake.”

“Most importantly,” she continued. “Never be ashamed of who you are.”

“Funny,” I chuckled. “My father once told me shame was our conscience telling us to rethink our actions.”

She laughed out loud, twirling her silver scissors, making them gleam. “Was your father a Christian, by any chance?”

“Catholic.”

“Figures,” she sighed. “Talk about shame. People who cream themselves at the sight of a bleeding, naked bound man—”

Another one of the women gave her a dismayed slap on the shoulder. I giggled, glad to have finally found someone who I could really talk to, even if I was supposed to pay them at the end and they weren’t really my friends.

While the dye did its job, they plucked my eyebrows and worked my nails. They wiped away the chipped red polish, cleaned and snipped the edges, pushed back my cuticles, filed them till they were all perfectly almond-shaped, and lathered my fingers with cold cream. After some doubts, I chose black nail polish, along with dark lipstick and smokey eyeshadow. A bit of darkness would make the silver dress look even brighter.

One of the women smiled, proud of her work, once she finished with my makeup. She gave me a piece of paper to press between my lips and wipe the excess off, pushed away my curls off my face, and turned me around in the chair. When I looked back at my reflection, it was as if looking at a real movie star.

“You’ve worked a miracle,” I said breathlessly.

“Don’t sell yourself so short,” the woman with the feathered hair laughed. “We can only work with what we have.”

“Thank you so, so, so much,” I told her, holding her hands and giving them a tight squeeze.

“Don’t ruin the manicure, now,” she said with a smile. “Go and have a good one, sweetheart.”

Back at the almost-empty Playhouse, I took out my little treasure trove from the roof of the bathroom stall and examined my options. There were all sorts of pretty jewelry, but if I was gonna go to this high-class, elegant sort of joint, I needed something that would make me fit in. Going with the silver, I chose a long, heavy silver chain necklace, with matching earrings. I almost chose one covered in rhinestones, before realizing that maybe that sort of thing could be seen as too gaudy. Not that I ever cared much about being seen as gaudy, but since I was going to go out with Cesar, I wanted to look like the sort of girl he could respect. No shame, just pride. I promised myself I wouldn’t even give him a chance to be ashamed of me anymore. From then on, not only would he think I was the most beautiful girl in the world: when he thought of me, the first image that would come to mind was of me in that silver dress, with the platinum curls and the dark lips, glowing like an old-timey movie starlet. Looking like we were meant for the other.

Gripping the accessories and the dress in my fists, I slinked back into the changing room. Nobody else had arrived yet. I hadn’t tried the dress on yet. At first glance, I trusted it would fit me nicely: I had been very wrong. It had a train that, while it moved beautifully when I walked, dragged too much behind me. It hung loose on the shoulders and the arms, but even with the pleats it was far too tight on my chest.

The door flung open. I jumped with a gasp. It was only Sally, thankfully, who had come early for once. When she saw me, she smiled, and I almost expected her to laugh –but she just raised her eyebrows at me, glancing up and down, probably admiring Cesar’s glittering gifts.

“Just be honest with me,” I sighed. “How bad is it?”

“I think this dress just doesn’t go with a bra,” she chuckled, leaving her handbag on her vanity. “Isn’t that uncomfortable?”

“Yeah, kind of,” I admitted, pushing my shoulders back, the fabric barely giving in.

“Here, let me help.”

Sally got off the vanity and walked behind me. For a moment I thought she’d try to fit the pleats of the dress a bit better, or maybe pull out a little sewing kit and tighten the shoulders, at least to make them droop less. To my surprise, I felt the tip of her fingers on my back. I held my breath. She unhooked my bra, and carefully slipped the ends of the fastening under the fabric, fiddling under the dress, sending a shiver up my spine, making my skin crawl with the sudden contact. I quickly threw my shoulders forward, picking the straps and pulling the bra off from under my arms. Sally brushed my curls off my shoulders. I was still holding my breath. Even more ridiculous, I was actually blushing. What on Earth’s wrong with me? , I thought.

“Let’s see, now…”

She moved back in front of me and turned me in front of the mirror. I kept staring at her for a minute longer, before remembering this was all for my anniversary look. My cleavage did look better now without the black bra peeking through. I pulled the hems of the neckline, adjusting it, asking myself whether I felt more comfortable than before or not. I really couldn’t tell. Even if it seemed nicer to look at, the shoulders still drooped limply, unless I pushed them back and kept them tense and stiff for the rest of the night –which I couldn’t really see myself doing.

“It just doesn’t fit right…” I insisted, pressing my shiny black nail against the little mole the makeup couldn’t quite cover. The more I looked at my own reflection, the more faults I found.

“You look so beautiful, Val,” she said gently. “I don’t think anyone will really notice.”

I couldn’t keep the pout on my face when she said that. Girls didn’t often tell me I was pretty –not since Heath’s house parties, at least. I had forgotten how nice it was, for someone who actually knows all the effort that goes into looking that good to comment on it. And Sally was probably one of the few other goody girls I could ever trust with knowing what real pretty was.

“Thank you, Sal.”

She smiled at me, her shiny eyes squinting behind a thick curtain of fake eyelashes, with one of those special types of smiles that aren’t condescending, aren’t threatening –that are just perfect. A movie star type of smile, the one that’d get you to buy something they vouched for.

“Knock ‘em dead.”

And, looking the best I’d looked in my whole life, clawing the bag where I had Cesar’s little gift, I hopped out the Playhouse and into a taxi.

The Hulanicki was this expensive, upscale restaurant, the sort of place you had to dress up to even be allowed through the front door. It had orange-carpeted corridors, cool and smooth marble walls, tall palm trees with leaves that became lost in the darkness of the high ceiling, and a soft warm golden glow on everything. There was a drinks bar, very similar to the one at the Playhouse, except that this one had a back wall made out of several mirror stripes. There were mirrors everywhere, actually: on the walls, peering behind heavy caramel-colored velvet curtains, on the shiny brass surface of the dim lights hanging over the little tables.

I arrived just in time for our reservation. Some people looked up from their dishes when I passed by their tables, but by their expressions they didn’t seem to think I looked out of place. There were a few other couples there, having entrées and sipping wine from their fancy glasses. Soft music played in the background, so low I didn’t really hear it until I sat down at the table and could relax for a moment, taking a deep breath and trying to calm down.

“Would you like the menu, ma’am?” a waiter asked me.

“No, thank you,” I smiled. “I’m waiting for someone.”

The waiter nodded and left. I had a sip of water, drumming my nails against the stem of the glass, turning it and watching how the light refracted and made rainbows on the tablecloth.

A few minutes passed. I laid my hand on top of the little candle on the table, feeling the warmth, moving my palm down onto the flame as close as I could without burning myself.

An hour passed. The waiter asked me if I wanted anything while I waited, so I had a glass of wine, the most expensive one they had, just to feel like I was doing something important. I still finished it quicker than I should have, gulping it down and leaving a dark red ring on the white tablecloth.

Two hours passed. I finally stood up and asked to use their phone, and I called Cesar’s office. His secretary told me he was not there. I called his penthouse. He wasn’t there either. I went back to my table, making my best effort at steadying my breathing and not getting worked up.

Three hours passed. A waiter approached me and asked if I wanted another glass of wine. I tried to smile back and say ‘no, thank you’, but my lips were trembling and I could barely speak. I just shook my head. He left.

And, finally, I just couldn’t hold it in any longer –and slammed my fists on the table –finally realizing that no, he was not gonna come, that I had been waiting there for hours like a dumbass and that I was just making a fool of myself in front of the other customers.

Fuck that. Let them judge.

I cried, as loud as my lungs could allow, out of sheer fury. Anger was always better than tears. I punched the table once more, but that wasn’t enough –I needed noise –I needed movement –so I grabbed the tablecloth –and yanked it –sending the empty wine glass and the four different forks and the water and the bread basket flying all over, crashing wonderfully on the marble walls and marble floor, and the little candle landed on the carpeted floor, and a woman screamed at the sight of fire, and I got up on my feet and stomped away from the disaster as the waiters rushed to fix it, and in the chaos I managed to make my way out of the restaurant before someone could remind me to pay for the overpriced wine and a bunch of stale rolls.

One thing was a scruffy teenage crush, keeping me at arm’s length, never allowing me to dream too big about our future together. Another thing entirely was Cesar –who told me, over and over, just how much he loved me, how important I was to him. This was a real betrayal. This was a goddamn stab in the back.

There was a hot gust of wind, and a low rumbling of an engine. Right in front of the Hulanicki’s entrance I saw this white Eldorado, gorgeous and brand new. A man in a lilac suit got out and stretched his arm to hand the keys to a valet. I snatched them away before they reached the guy. I climbed in the car, slammed the door closed, and drove away before I could even think about it twice.

I turned on the radio and scrambled for a while, trying to find a good station that could have anything to keep my mind off Cesar. The kinda music he hated, no crooners or divos or sappy love ballads. I stopped when I heard something similar to the music of the house parties at Hackensack, and the rock shows at the Bowery. Something familiar, something comforting. I left the dial alone. The drumming grew louder, the guitar became noisier –and the anger I had boiling in me reached the breaking point.

And I screamed.

“ Well, you got the hands of a man and the face of a little boy blue… And when you stand you’re so grand there’s a case just for looking at you— ”

Good enough , I thought, my throat still aching from the strain, feeling the rumbling on the steering wheel. I punched the dashboard, thrashing my head, forcing myself not to cry, biting my lower lip hard enough to leave a mark. I passed a manhole –the whole car shook –and my bag fell heavy against my thigh. Half open as it was, a corner of the wrapped cigar cutter peeked out.

I grabbed his present and chucked it out the window.

“ Come like a lightning flash, a lightning flash— ”

Trying to find a cigarette, my fingers found a little emergency cellophane bag I had saved in my bag. And this was an emergency if I had ever seen one.

Faster –as fast as the engine would give. I zoomed past honking cars, raced past the busy center through familiar streets and towards Cesar’s place. With any luck, I would find him getting out of his car, and I’d step on it and crash into him and crush him completely, a head-on collision that would tenderize his flesh and shatter his bones and make his head burst against the pavement like a kid’s water balloon—

The sirens were tailing me already. It had lasted so little… But I should have known –it was the East Side –where most cops were, where it would be easier to get caught. I glanced at the car following me in the rearview mirror. But I wouldn’t brake. Let’s see them try to catch me. I grinned at my own reflection, and took a deep breath, bracing myself, tensing my arms. My mascara was running, my lipstick was smudged and had stained my teeth, my hair was wild and the previously picture-perfect curls now bounced and sprung in all directions, as if I had received a sudden electric jolt. I was already a mess; a little more destruction wouldn’t make any difference.

I stepped on the accelerator. I needed to push the machine as fast as it could go, and then some. I needed to feel something new. I needed to smash the fucking sound barrier. I needed to set the engine on fire.

And before I could realize it –I was heading right towards a storefront’s glass window –and I tried to swerve –turning the wheel under my clammy hands –but the Eldorado turned too late –too sudden –and it spun to the side –I flinched and covered my head with my arms –the windshield cracked –there was a loud metallic burst –and a million little shards of glass sputtered like champagne bubbles. I shut my eyes, barely remembering to keep my mouth closed for once. My body shook and slammed against the car door. My head hit the roof. A drop of blood ran down my brow. I managed to draw in a gasp of breath. It felt like I had split my skull wide open.

The loud metallic noises stopped. Everything I could hear was the radio, still playing, though just barely. The stereo had suffered some damage, too. Such a pity. Such a beautiful car.

“Ma’am?” I heard a faraway voice calling to me. “Ma’am, are you okay?”

I guess I was lucky I was wearing the seatbelt. I climbed out, slowly getting to feel the scrapes and cuts on my arms and legs. Many small ones, which I guess are better than a few large ones, than a few lethal ones. A bunch of little red dots, but barely so, nothing to worry about. It was as if the blood wasn’t even mine. Truly, I didn’t feel much pain at all –just a nasty headache, a heavy faintness, and a tiny swirling ball of bile at the bottom of my throat. I almost tripped when someone tried to help me away from the car, but I managed to keep my balance on the one heel that was still clinging to my foot.

“Ma’am?”

“I’m… I’m Alright.”

The sirens became louder. I recoiled at the flashing red and blue lights. And from there, it was like it always was. The cop sat me in the back of his car, drove us off to the station in a bumpy ride across the city, and asked me if I had been under the influence of any substances. I didn’t answer this time. I didn’t even joke around. All I wanted was Cesar.

“My call…”

The cop sighed, but allowed it. I walked up to the phone, dialed the number, and waited. Silence on the wire. The beeping of the machine seemed to mock me. I called again. Silence. And again. Silence. Minutes passed, and nobody answered.

“Alright, miss. Cell four’s free for you.”

I could barely react to the guy grabbing my arm and pulling me away. It just made no sense. Cesar never left me hanging like that.

“Wait –wait, please… I want to make one last call,” I said, finally snapping back to reality. “Please. Just one more.”

The cop shot the officer a look. He nodded. I hurried back to the telephone, and dialed a new number.

“ Hello? ” The voice sounded just familiar enough for me to recognize, but different enough for me to get me to realize what I was actually doing. “ Hello? Who is it? ”

It had been five years. Of course Bri’s voice would have changed a bit after all that time. I tried to listen for someone else in the background, like my mother washing the dishes before bed, or my father watching the late news. But there didn’t seem to be anyone there, apart from her.

“ Hello? ”

I don’t know what I was even thinking. I definitely wasn’t gonna tell my little sister I was calling from the police station. She’d tell my mother, the little snitch, and she would lose it, if her reaction to when I showed up in our neighborhood followed by a cop car was any indication. What would they even do? Pay the bail? Come all the way from Hackensack to pick me up? I hung up, closing my eyes. I should have tried to call Cesar once more. That’d be less of a waste of time than thinking I could get any help from my family.

“Alright, now, miss. Cell four.”

I’d have put up a fight if I wasn’t feeling so beat. Just like the last time I had been caught, a mugshot was taken, my fingerprints stamped, my full fake name and age registered, and when I was finally feeling a little more put-together, as if I was just waking up from a sudden sleep, I was shoved into the cell.

Sleep would have been nice, at least to kill some time and keep my mind away from the place. I was too fired up to even close my eyes. It was boiling hot in there. The sweat got in my eyes, slipped over the edge of my lips, tasting salty and smelling sweet. The buzzing of the fluorescent lightbulb over my head was driving me crazy. I picked at the scabs on my arms and the rips on my stockings, trying to think about what my options were, my mind too chaotic to fully focus on anything in particular. Dozing off for a while became too hard, with the light and the noise, so I took off my one broken heel and paced around the concrete cell like a caged animal, counting seconds, losing count and starting again. Apart from the buzzing of the lightbulb, the echoing steps of a cop down the hallway, rhythmic and regular like the ticking of a clock, helped me count the seconds better. When I got bored of that I ran my fingernails over the steel bars, from left to right and right to left, ruining the manicure but at least sorta entertained by the clinking noise. My feet had turned numb from pacing. If I had been allowed to keep my jewelry, I would have fidgeted with it, and it might have calmed me down some. Last time I had two cellmates, at least, to keep me distracted. I was alone that night.

Next morning, forcing my eyes open through the sticky mascara, the door was slammed open, I got up, and was let go. I had only been detained, they told me, for my own safety. The cops do love saying that, ‘for your own safety’. There would be a fine, though, they said. They didn’t give me back the jewelry, no matter how much I yelled and swore and tried to intimidate them. Instead of earning me another overnight stay at the cell, I put on the shoe and walked all the way back to Hell’s Kitchen, stumbled up the stairs to the third floor of the Broslin, and locked myself up in the tiny shared bathroom. Too late I remembered the little cracked mirror someone had stuck over the sink with bubblegum. The image it gave back to me was a real mess.

I still had remains of scabs I hadn’t managed to scratch off. I felt wounded and rough and scraped and ruined. A car crash of a person. A goddamn pity, all that hard work at the beauty parlor. My old self just had to come through. Like I could only be myself if I had some blood on me.

Nobody can say that I wasn’t owed an explanation. Part of me hoped that Cesar had had an accident or something, like I did: a damn good enough excuse for him not showing up.

When I went to work the next day, earlier than ever and determined to catch him this time, I saw Cesar climbing out the black car, parked in front of the Playhouse’s entrance. I smiled, fixing my hair, glad, on some level, to know everything was fine. And then, he stretched his hand back to the backseat, and a dainty hand took his. Out came a tall red-haired woman, dressed in an elegant satin blouse, a long skirt with a slit on the side, and expensive-looking lace-up heels. She was soon followed by a cute little boy, who held his mother’s hand just as tightly as Cesar held hers. I couldn’t see her face, standing as she was with her back to me, but by the gentle tone of her voice, it sounded like she was smiling. Cesar smiled back at her, leaned forward and closed his eyes and kissed her somewhere, hard to say whether on the cheek, on the top of her head, on her lips. My heart got caught somewhere in my throat, making it hard to breathe. For a moment I was back at that party at Heath’s house, with him smooching some other girl, while I stood on the sidelines and witnessed the crime scene. The victim of their infidelity. Indeed, commitment was hard to come by.

“Hi, sweetface.”

I startled him –and I could only laugh at his expression. If he had been surprised… But I repeated to myself that it was perfectly possible that the redheaded woman was just a friend of his. A model, an actress or something, just a good friend. Yeah, right. That’s what they said, right? They’re just good friends. Still, accusing without strong enough evidence was a gamble.

“Hi, Val…”

“You say I don’t take my job seriously…” I chuckled, looking at him over my sunglasses. “Well, here I am, arriving early for once.”

He gave me a nervous little smile. Would he be that nervous, if the woman had really been just a friend?, I wondered. The doorman opened the door for Cesar, he went in first, and I followed him through the hallway and behind a curtain to the backstage corridors to his office.

“You think I’m looking old?” he asked, patting the front of his hairline. I’ve always thought he looked pretty good for being more than twice my age.

“Who was that woman, sweetface?”

He finally turned around to look at me. “Excuse me?”

“That woman at the entrance,” I said coldly, pushing down all my anger. “With the boy.”

“Oh. That was just Patricia.”

“Is she a friend of yours?”

We arrived at the top of the stairs, to his office. He unlocked the door, took off his jacket, and took his time to answer.

“She’s my ex-wife.”

I could feel the blood draining from my face. “Wait –you’re married?”

“Divorced,” he corrected me.

“And you have a son!?”

“Why are you so surprised?” he said, as if I was being unreasonable. “What do you care, what happened before we met?”

I told myself he was right, that it was stupid to be so worked up over something so done and over with like an ex-wife. It wasn’t that what bothered me. It was the fact I didn’t know anything about it till now. No matter that it was a silly little thing, the fact remained: who had broken up with who, and why? Was it that they were just not compatible, or did something serious happen? Was there anything about Cesar I needed to know?

“When did you divorce her?” I asked him, even though I really didn’t want to know.

“Three years ago,” he replied. “Before I met you, if that makes you feel any better.”

“It does,” I sighed. Still –he had been married before. I don’t know why that possibility never crossed my mind. He even had a child. “Do you still…? Do you still meet with her, often?”

“With my ex-wife?”

“Yeah.”

“Well, yes,” he shrugged. “Sometimes. When I visit my son.”

“Do you think she’s pretty?”

He stared at me for a moment. “She’s… She’s very smart.”

“You didn’t answer me,” I insisted. “Do you have a picture of her?”

“No, not anymore.”

I wanted to ask him if he still loved her. I didn’t dare. I knew he would try to change the subject. And avoiding talking about her would be like a confirmation.

“It’s as if I didn’t even know you,” I said quietly.

Cesar sighed, running a finger over his mustache. “That’s rich of you to say. You never tell me anything about you, either.”

“Because you never ask.” Because he wasn’t even interested.

We both remained quiet. I sat on his desk, looking around myself, searching for any images of Patricia and her – their child. The only photographs he had there were glamor pics of a bunch of celebrities that he was friends with, signed by them, framed in gold and resting on expensive furniture pieces, among heavy curtains and the collection of stuffed exotic birds. I looked away from their glass eyes and white smiles to focus on the bigger picture, the largest artwork in the place, hanging above our heads. No matter what, each time I got a chance to visit Cesar’s office, I needed to take a moment to gaze at that painting. It showed a stunning blank-faced woman, smooth and white as if carved out of a candle’s wax, with golden flowing hair, standing gracefully on a seashell, floating over the water. There were other figures in the painting, but they didn’t matter much. I think Cesar thought the same: the light over the frame fell squarely over her, leaving the two others in the shadows. In this instance, I realized that what I had thought were bubbles blown by the same wind that swept her hair were actually little white roses. I wondered if that Patricia bitch looked like the woman in the painting. Maybe that was the type he liked. The type I should try harder to be like.

“Have you ever been to Cuba?” he suddenly asked.

“No…”

"Well, neither have I. But my parents, they used to own so much land back there… They were lucky to have had most of their money in American banks, when the uprisings came. And ever since I was a boy, they told me to be thankful for every single penny. To never take anything for granted,” he sighed, buttoning his shirt. “Life’s not cheap.”

“You got that right,” I said with a little chuckle.

“Anyways… I was thinking, I could get us a nice place in Puerto Rico. Similar enough to Cuba, or so I’ve heard. It’s sunny, it’s warm, it’s much nicer than grimy New York… Granted, it doesn’t have the luxuries Manhattan has as of yet, but maybe we can begin bringing some of that magic there.”

Moving somewhere together. I stopped breathing for a moment. Was he planning a life together already? He sounded completely serious.

“Don’t you think so, darling?”

I didn’t know shit about Puerto Rico. I just cared about one thing.

“Would you be staying in Puerto Rico with me?”

Cesar turned around to face me, and gave me a sorry little glance. “I’d… I’d have to come back to New York from time to time, of course. Business things. To solve some matters.”

And then he smiled his Clark Gable smile, and leaned over towards me. He knew how to win me over.

“But I’d come home to you. Wouldn’t that be nice, Val?” he smiled, stroking my cheek. “You’d love it there. It’s sunny and warm all year long... We could have some kids, too. A boy for me, a girl for you.”

I smiled back. His hand was so, so soft. “That does sound nice…” But I was finally having an honest heart-to-heart with him. And as much as I wanted to hear more about his future dreams, I wasn’t that stupid –and I knew he was just avoiding the question. “I don’t want to live in a big empty house in Puerto Rico, all alone.”

“You’d have maids, of course—”

“I want to be with you, Cesar,” I insisted. “Why don’t you want to be with me?”

“It’s not that… I want to be with you, my dear, the problem is that to keep this sort of lifestyle up, you… You gotta keep working. I’m not a Wall Street guy that can make the money magically multiply itself.”

“Then become one!” I said with a shrug. “I mean, how hard can it be?”

Cesar gazed at me, with a frown and narrowed eyes. “You’re truly ungrateful, Val.”

“Listen, I don’t really care if you’re rich or not… All I want is to be with you.”

“You liar. You damn liar.”

His words felt like swallowing a mouthful of bleach. “I mean it—”

“No, you don’t!” he cried. I remembered how Heath would never raise his voice at me. That was how little he had cared about me. At least Cesar cared enough to want me to listen up. “Good Lord, Val –do you think I’m an idiot? Why would you stay with me so long, if it weren’t for everything I gave you?”

I chuckled. “Because I love you! Isn’t it obvious?”

“You said you don’t even know me.”

“But I want to.”

Where I myself was concerned, there was not much to know. I was a boring little person, really, especially compared to the exciting clients of the Playhouse, and all the big names he rubbed elbows with. That had been the real beauty of New York. There, nobody knew me, and whatever lie I could weave was as good as the truth. It was all about fresh starts. I could say goodbye to Tiffany forever. Live the rest of my days as Val, Cesar’s lovely new bride. That would be the real dream come true. I could reinvent myself completely. Hell, I could even learn to like opera. I could learn to be someone that made Cesar happy.

But first, I needed to be honest. As soon as I got that over with, the sooner my new life could start. For starters, I needed to tell him my real name. He knew me as Val, but I needed to come clean to him –no more secrets, nothing hidden between us anymore. Hopefully that would make him come fully clean too.

“My real name is Tiffany,” I began saying, slowly, for him to understand, without any room for doubt. “And I’m from Hackensack, New Jersey. And I came here to New York when I was around fourteen. I’ve done some things that I’d rather not say, and there’s some things that happened to me that I’d rather not talk about either –but apart from that, I can be completely honest with you, if you just—”

“Spare me the soap opera, Val. Everyone’s got their own sob story… And I’m not interested in whatever your specific brand of damage is.”

So much for trying to speak honestly. “You just don’t give a shit, huh?”

“This is all because of the anniversary dinner, isn’t it?”

I scoffed.

“I’m sorry, alright?” he sighed, not sounding very sorry at all. “I didn’t know this was so important to you.”

I turned around to stare at him. “... Sorry?”

“Yes. I’m sorry. Can you get over it now, please?”

I kept quiet for a second –and then I laughed louder, higher, opening my eyes wider and wider.

“Oh, you’re sorry! You’re sorry! You’re sorry, yes, you’re so sorry! I can see exactly how damn fucking sorry you are—!”

“Stop these hysterics, for God’s sake!” he yelled, and grabbed me by the shoulders, and shook me around. I shoved him away from me. “What’s wrong with you? Can’t you behave like a normal person? Good lord!”

“Just tell me, what did I do wrong?” I demanded. “What did I do for you to just keep on giving less and less of a shit about me? And don’t you say it’s because you’re too busy, because I don’t believe it!”

Cesar glared at me. “If you’re not satisfied with the truth, that is not my problem, Val.” Leaning back on his chair, he ran his hand through his hair. “I work so hard for this... You know that.”

“Oh, yes, of course…” I said with a painful grin and a tilt of the head. “You’re the one who keeps the lights on, after all.”

“And you, you don’t work hard for anything. You’re pretty, you’re young… Life comes easy to you. You don’t know what real struggles are. That’s why your life is so full of nothing.”

I kept quiet. Avoiding his gaze, I fidgeted with the little chrome ball clicker toy on his desk. I knew it annoyed him, but the clicking was better than silence. I don’t even know why he had it in the first place –it must have been a gift from his mother. Surrounded by the extravagant decorations of the office, the ivory cigar lighter and the walnut list finder, it looked especially out of place.

“Why don’t you get an actual job?” he asked me. “Do something useful, for once.”

“Yes, bet that would beat laying around in a damn mansion, waiting for you to fuck me,” I hissed as I stared back at him, almost spitting the words out to him.

I waited for him to reply to that, see how he’d try and argue against the truth. Instead, his eyes went down from my shoulder to my hand, growing wider and more unnerved.

“Val… What happened to your arms?” he asked. My face softened. The horror in his voice was pretty comforting. It meant he worried.

I frowned and looked away, hugging myself, but being careful to turn in such a way that the light of his desk lamp would show exactly what had happened. His chair screeched on the wooden floor when he pushed it back. His fingers traced the small red scabs that I still had, in little clusters, all along the side of my arms. I closed my eyes, and let out a little resigned sigh.

“… I had an accident.”

He got off the chair. “Don’t tell me—”

“Guess it was bound to happen, sooner or later.”

I was hoping he’d sigh, too, and kiss my scars, or pet my hair and click his tongue and tell me I needed to be more careful. Instead, he walked away.

“Whose car was it? No, don’t tell me, I don’t want to know,” he said, covering his eyes with one hand. “Good Lord, you’re truly a crazy, desperate little thing.”

“I didn’t do it for you.”

Cesar stared at me for a moment. And, in that moment, he might have believed me, just before deciding that he liked the idea of me trying to self-destruct for his own sake much more.

“I didn’t. I didn’t!”

It stung, the way he glanced at me, before he went on rubbing his temples. Pure, undiluted disgust. What I should have done was to tell him to fuck off, that I was being honest and that if he still loved me he would know when I teased and when I was telling the truth. Instead, I became nervous. I turned cowardly, and doubled down on being a crazy desperate little thing.

“I’m sorry. Alright?” I said, on the edge of a plea. “It’s just that… Cesar, darling, when you didn’t show up yesterday, I was so mad. And I needed something to take my mind off it, anything, and I saw this Eldorado, and I thought…” But I knew Cesar didn’t care for what I thought. “And I thought… That you might not love me anymore. Cesar, please, just tell me you still love me. However you wanna say it, just say it, please. You don’t know how much I need it.”

I shut my eyes, cursing myself, for being such a damn baby. Despite my anger, though, I hoped there would be a reward for my humiliation. A hand cupping my cheek, a little kiss on my head, a reassurance of any kind. I stayed still, waiting for it. It never came.

“Come on, Val, for goodness’ sake. You’re all take and no give,” he said tiredly. “All you want is to drain me and bleed me dry. You’re insatiable.”

Things were looking hopeless. Cesar sounded as cold as ice, far away from me, as if he had never even loved me in the first place. I refused to believe that it was the truth. I knew he loved me, I had all these memories to prove it. I had earned it. All I needed was for him to know how much I loved him.

“I know that the man’s supposed to be the one to make the proposal…” I said with a weak smile. “But if you asked me to marry you, Cesar, I’d say yes in a heartbeat.”

A last-ditch effort. But it wasn’t a lie. After all, if I married him, if we were tied to each other, eventually we might fall in love again. But then I thought of his ex-wife. Would she have thought the same, before their divorce? My mind went to my parents, arguing late into the night, and then to Janey, rocking her baby in her arms, telling me about Heath sleeping around with other girls. All the other girls that came before me, sitting in a line, like the goody girls in the changing room, one beside the other, fixing their makeup, waiting for their turn. All of us disposable. It was just a temporary thing. I would be another one for the collection. After all, what made me different? What made me special?

“What?”

I stopped the little chrome ball before it clicked again. Despite everything, I loved Cesar. I truly did. That was what made me special. But hadn’t his wife thought the same, the day of their wedding?

“I do love you,” I muttered. “If I didn’t love you, do you think I would want to marry you?”

He burst out laughing, a long, exaggerated, bitter laugh.

“I’m tired of being your goddamn meal ticket, Val. I… I tried, but Lord –at least you could be honest with me!”

“But—”

“Get out of here,” he said, lighting a new cigar. “You make me sick.”

“Cesar, please—!”

His hand gripped my wrist before I could finish my thought. He dragged me out the office, dropped me right by the door, and slammed it behind me. I turned around and knocked and called his name. He didn’t answer. I told myself I was just making a fool of myself, crying out and calling him and throwing a fit. I brought my fists to my sides, and told myself that I was just making things worse. The secretary was right there, I realized. I shot her a glare. She lazily turned her attention back to her book, as if this was a common occurrence she was bored by.

I went down the stairs back to the ground floor of the Playhouse. I got out of the place, wandered off into the streets, and walked all the way past the rowdy corner junkies and the tired whores on Eighth Avenue and back to the Broslin. For once, I wasn’t hungry, I wasn’t tired, I didn’t want anything, just to get away from it all. I only wanted to go home. But I wouldn’t find it with Cesar, not anymore. It truly felt like whatever he and I had between us had definitely rotted away, and I was just dragging the remains, smiling at it and kissing its festering cheek and sitting it upright when it slumped and pretending everything was alright. As if I was living in goddamn dreamland.

For so long I had thought I had earned his love fair and square. But, at the end of the day, I might just be unlovable.

Flicking off bits of chipped black nail polish, I waited for the light to cross the street. The noisy crowd passed me by, gently pushing me like a running stream. The answer came to me just as the red light changed. There were only two options now I had to decide whether to break up with him, or to give it time. If I let too much time pass, I knew he would be the one to end the relationship. After all, I was the one who always wore my heart on my sleeve, presented it on a silver platter for others to break… Well, not anymore. Even if I might still love Cesar, breaking up with him was my best shot to at least have a say in how to break my own heart.

And, despite this, it still made me furious to realize how I was, at least a little bit, still in love with him. If he suddenly turned back into the old Cesar, the one who had seen me and picked me up from the streets, like a fairytale princess, and taken me to his enchanted palace, then I would forgive and forget everything in the blink of an eye. I was so fucking weak. Realizing this led me to consider killing him, like I had done with Heath. That way I’d test it and see if it really managed to hurt me; to tell myself that this was not really love, that this was just a silly teenage crush. But I had sworn to myself I wouldn’t kill again. I couldn’t risk it. And besides, one thing was Heath –a deadbeat mechanic from the suburbs –and another thing entirely was Cesar –millionaire, sophisticated, well-connected, the sort of guy whose death would make the evening news. The sort of death that could spark an investigation.

Death was not an option. Breaking up... I could pick that one, and there would be no casualties. I’d be devastated, yes, but I’d get over it. I had gotten over Heath, after all. I had gotten over Jack, who hadn’t even been my boyfriend in the first place. I sniffed and wiped my nose, walking faster. It was just sensible. We wouldn’t go anywhere together, not unless one of us changed in some way. And I wouldn’t. I did everything I had to: I was loving, and devoted, and even tried being understanding and patient. It had gotten me nowhere. And I would stay nowhere, if I stayed with him. It was comfortable, still, I guess. I was used to this sort of life by now. But if I wanted something else, something more, I needed to stop being so complacent. It would take guts. And I could be gutsy. I could be strong, if I tried. So what if I ripped my own heart out and tore it apart and stomped on the pieces to show Cesar just what he had lost. Broken hearts are momentary pain, I repeated to myself. The loneliness I was feeling, waking up by his side, was not worth it. I could fix my own heart, stitch it back together into something pretty and presentable, in time for my next crush. Next time would be better. I would be smarter, with thicker skin. I would learn from this and come out wiser. If I kept that in mind, maybe it would hurt less.

My mother used to say that actions speak louder than words. Cesar told me he loved me. But he rarely showed it anymore. I rarely felt loved.

Maybe that was what had happened to her and to my father. A couple months of pure bliss, a wedding to remember, and a couple of months later they became strangers again. Wasn’t it fucked up? How could something as important as love wouldn’t last forever?

Still –I had to try. What else could I do?

“Don’t tell me that Cesar isn’t here,” I told his secretary before she could open her mouth. “Petey downstairs said he’d just arrived.”

“He left his coat in,” she said plainly. “But then he went back down. Unless you want to keep me company, your best bet is finding him somewhere around the dance floor.”

I was just about to walk the stairs back down to the dance floor, when a doubt popped into my mind. “How did you know about the Hulanicki?” I asked her. “Does he order a lot of lunches from there?”

“He took me there,” she said, her eyes fixed on the page. “Back when I was his sweetheart.”

“When was that?”

She finally glanced at me. “Before you.”

“When he was married?”

She didn’t say anything to that. She didn’t need to. She just passed the page.

Cesar had cheated on his wife. Was that it? Was that the reason he felt so detached lately, that he was really just cheating on me? The mere idea made my blood boil, of course, but there was also a sense of relief. If the problem was him, then that meant it wasn’t that I was unlovable: it was just that he was the wrong one for me. Then again, I hadn’t found any solid real proof of his cheating. It could very well had been that I was just imagining things. After all, he had cheated on his wife, and that didn’t necessarily mean he’d cheat on every single partner from then on. Right? That didn’t mean he’d cheat on me. Right?

He wouldn’t have told me about moving to Puerto Rico with him, about having two kids, a boy for him and a girl for me, if he hadn't had any thoughts of a future with me, after all.

Because Cesar’s committed, I thought as the music got louder, trying to argue myself out of breaking up with him. And his commitment, that was more than what I could say of most other men. Might be the only time I’d find that in a man, too. And yet, when I tried to think about my future with him… Well, he wasn’t there. I saw myself in a big, beautiful sunny villa, surrounded by swaying palm trees, full of hundreds and hundreds of blossoming white roses. Sitting in a wide living room, among the roses, on my own, leafing through a magazine. Picking up the phone to call him, getting an ‘I’ll be home late today, darling’. Eating alone. Swimming alone in the backyard pool. Wasting away the hours, watching TV and drinking white wine and popping pills and candy. And, when Cesar got home, what would we do? He didn’t watch TV, and he didn’t like the music, the movies, or anything I liked. When we had kids, I could already imagine our discussions with him disagreeing over how I raised them. It was scary, how easy it was to imagine him becoming less and less in love with me. I made an effort to focus on the perks of staying with him (financial stability, a big bedroom all for myself, good hearty breakfasts, a huge closet full of gorgeous dresses, an army of maids fit for a queen), but none of these things seemed all that nice after thinking about them for more than a few seconds.

I was used to being alone. I wanted that to change. More than anything, I didn’t want to be alone anymore.

As committed as Cesar was, so far he wasn’t any help making me feel less alone. Especially if I went along with his plans, keeping me away in a platinum cage outside the States. Hell, I didn’t even know Spanish.

Even worse, I thought about whether I could do any better; yeah, any better than Cesar, a successful, handsome, caring gentleman. Of course I couldn’t do better. If I eventually became a star (and despite how much I tried to believe in it, there was no guarantee of that, for sure), I’d have to travel to movie sets, to premieres, to interviews. I couldn’t do that if I was in Puerto Rico. And I would have even less of a chance to see Cesar. And, after all that, with the distance, he’d end up cheating on me. I was so certain of it, suddenly I got furious, as if it had happened already. There had to be something wrong with us, if I could imagine it so damn clearly. Maybe Cesar still loved me –but he didn’t like me at all.

There was still a job I had to clock in to. Cesar wasn’t immediately visible on the dance floor, so I had to assume he was somewhere on the booths, talking with his friends and business associates. Not that it mattered much. My mind was made. I would get a better job, a well-paying one, not one keeping me hand to mouth. I would get a better job, and a place of my own. I would find myself someone good for me, someone who liked me. Someone I could be myself with.

I told myself all of this like a mantra, a promise to myself, to distract myself from the decision of breaking up with Cesar –who had given me so much, who had loved me so dearly.

I made a plan in my mind, a sort of script. I could not show any weakness. All my words had to be delivered firmly and without a shadow of a doubt. Much like at the auditions, really, except this wasn’t gonna be pretend.

My reflection stared back in the changing room mirror. I had made up my mind. Now, I had to trust I would stick to my choice when the moment of truth arrived.

The other goody girls had already changed into their uniforms, styling their hair, doing their makeup, sharing the latest news. It figured I should do the same. I rolled out a tube of red lipstick, and applied it slowly, carefully. I covered it with lip gloss. I took out my palette and brushed my eyelids with pink dust, and drew a thick black line over the edge of my eyelashes, before applying the mascara. And, once my cheeks were rosy and glittery and I was looking pretty again, I stared at my reflection and forced a smile, grinning wide, in the exact way that Cesar disliked.

And then I started crying again.

“What’s the matter, Val? Stabbed yourself in the eye with the wand again?”

I wiped the warm tears from under my eyes before I messed up the eyeliner. “No, I’m… I’m going to break up with Cesar—”

“Why? Did his wife find out about you two?” Eileen asked.

“What?”

“You dumbass. He’s divorced,” Suzy said. “It’s all above board.”

“Then why did you split?”

“We haven’t yet,” I mumbled. “I’m leaving him—”

“You got someone better?”

I shook my head and sniffed. “No… And I don’t think… I ever will.”

“Then why the hell are you splitting?”

“I just… I don’t think he loves me.”

“So what?” Suzy said with a shrug. “As long as he keeps you on the payroll…”

“I just wish I knew why he got cold on me…” I sobbed. “He used to want to spend all his time with me. We used to have fun.”

“Men get bored eventually, Val. You’re not the first—”

“And won’t be the last.”

“But still… He missed our anniversary. I had reminded him of it. I don’t know how he didn’t realize how important this was to me. How much he mattered to me,” I said, swallowing my tears, shutting my eyes and focusing all my strength into gulping down the sadness. “I don’t know why he got so angry at me, when I said I would marry him.”

“Marriage?”

“Oof—”

“He got angry?” Eileen asked. “And you really don’t know why?”

“Let me put it in a way you’ll understand: you wouldn't marry a man just for being rich…” Suzy said in a high mocking voice, gesturing with a nail file. “But, my goodness, doesn't it help?”

I stepped back. “I’m not a gold-digger.”

“Right. And you just didn’t know that the guy was loaded.”

“Please, girls, I think we should go a bit softer on Val,” Nancy said gently. “I mean… You can't bang the guy and cash his checks and at least not try to believe you love him.”

The other goody girls laughed. I blinked and scanned their colorful faces, trying to find someone, anyone, who could back me up. Something to keep me grounded.

“What’s so difficult to understand? You just gotta sell your ass,” Suzy said, pulling down her lower eyelid to brush her eyelashes with the greasy black wand. “You’re basically already selling it to King Cesar, up in his ivory tower.”

“Everyone here does it,” Nancy added with a shrug. “It’s just what you do to get a little bit ahead. You know, nobody’s gonna judge you for it.”

I frowned at her. My anger was already simmering. “You don’t know that.”

Eileen chuckled. “Those without sin cast the first stone, yadda yadda—”

“That’s not me,” I snapped. “I’m not a damn slut.”

There was a sudden silence. The heavy thumping of the music that was already starting sounded like faraway thunder, announcing a coming storm.

Suzy turned around, and shot me a glare. “What, you think you’re so much better than us?”

I did. But I didn’t want to say so.

“You really do, huh?” she insisted, getting off her chair, walking up to me with her arms crossed. “If you’re too good for this, then why are you here? Why aren’t you living the high life, instead of slumming it with the rest of us?”

“You think I want this?”

Suzy scoffed. “I think you’re just lying to yourself, baby.”

That was it. I gave her leg a hard kick. She opened her eyes wide, in pure outraged shock, and pushed me off the chair. I stood up –and without hesitating for a second –I shoved her to the floor, straddled her waist, grabbed her by the hair, and knocked her head against the concrete. She screamed. The other girls started yelling, moving back, forming a circle around us. Suzy snarled and reached out to grab my own hair –but I bit her hand –she screeched –and I punched her, first her big mouth that would never shut up, and then her nose that was constantly bleeding and now finally had a good reason for it, and I was almost about to grab her by the neck and start to choke her out… Realizing what I was about to do, someone, maybe Nancy, tried to stop me and grab my arm –but I elbowed myself free. I was just getting started—

“What’s happening here?” Sally cried, coming in the changing room, plucking hair pins from between her teeth. “Jesus Christ –what’s going on, Val?”

As soon as I heard her voice I turned around –and Suzy pushed me off her –and I fell square on my butt on the floor. Nancy and Eileen helped Suzy back to her feet. She pushed them away too, and rushed to look at herself in the mirror. She let out a furious roar.

“You little fucking beast—!”

“Please! Girls!” Sally begged, standing in between us, for our own safety, I had to assume. “There has to be another way to settle this that doesn’t involve punching each other to death!”

“She started it!” I cried.

“You threw the first punch!”

“What was I supposed to do, just smile and take it!?”

“Please! Let’s just talk about what happened, okay?” Sally insisted. “Just tell me what happened.”

“Suzy’s just looking for a fight,” I said quickly. “She’s been jealous I’m with Cesar ever since I got here—”

“And Little Miss Holier-Than-Thou here,” Suzy said, voice trembling with rage, as she wiped the blood off her upper lip. “Has convinced herself she’s really head over heels for the boss.”

“Oh… Well,” Sally said, facing me, turning the hair pins in her hand. “We all know that. And besides, you’re still young. You’ll learn.”

“What?”

Sally sighed, and took a tissue out of her handbag to hand to Suzy, who dabbed at the dripping blood of her nose with it.

“Listen, Val, I commend your optimism,” she said gently, making her way past me to her side of the vanity. “But life’s not as pretty as you think.”

“Men aren’t with girls for their personality—”

“Whoever says they are is trying to sell you something—”

“And love is something you keep for your parents and your future kids.”

“Why do you all think you even know me?” I yelled. “Just because I refuse to be a whore like the rest of you—!”

A few girls started yelling at me, but I didn’t hear them. I focused on Sally, hoping she would back me up. She stared back at me, looking me in the eye. There wasn’t any support there. I immediately felt ashamed.

“Sal, I –I didn’t mean you—”

“Didn’t you?” she said coldly, turning around and brushing her hair. “It’s not like I haven’t accepted a couple gifts now and again for a little favor.”

I blinked, unsure I had heard quite right. “Wait… Really?”

“Enough talk, girls!” Jess shouted as she entered the changing room, clapping to get our attention. “Those goodies are not gonna be sold on their own!”

“Wait, Sal –what do you mean, a little favor—?”

“A handjob for ten, a blowjob for twenty,” Sally replied, scattering the hair pins onto the vanity. “What d’you think, Val? Think you could do better than that?”

“But—”

“My, I didn’t know you were so concerned with purity,” she chuckled bitterly, and retouched her pink lipstick. “Bet your parents are so proud of you right now.”

I stood beside her, watching in disbelief. Sally huffed, stood up and pushed me aside, leaving for the bathroom before I could even follow her out the changing room. Instead, I was stuck facing Jess, who had my goody tray and a sermon ready at hand. Suzy was standing by her side with a smug smirk.

“Miss Val, tell me: are you happy with your job here?”

I braced myself for the cut to my paycheck. “Yes, ma’am.”

“Very well. Then I suggest you avoid starting catfights with your coworkers. You’ll see that it is a very quick way to get sacked.”

I grit my teeth. “Yes, ma’am.”

Suzy shot me a glare, rubbing the back of her head. Bet she was pissed that a little bruise hadn't been good enough a reason to get me fired straight away.

“I suggest you go back to work, and focus on doing a good job,” Jess said. “You’ve not been at the top of your game lately, Miss Val.”

I gave them both a little smile. “Don’t worry, ma’am. It won’t happen again.”

I yanked the tray from her hands, elbowed Suzy out of my way, and got back to the dance floor. Trying to bash her head in had been a bit of an impulsive thing to do, but it made me feel a little better. It wasn’t that what bothered me, really. I was more concerned with Sally’s glare. She had been the only one among the goody girls I had grown to consider as something of a friend. Something told me we weren’t gonna be friends anymore, after that.

My nails danced over the cellophane bags. I barely had enough money for a drink, Jess was surely keeping a close eye on me now after my little stunt at the changing room, and all I wanted was something to take the edge off. But I told myself I needed to stay lucid and focused to confront Cesar that night. I spent the first hour or so doing my job, getting some sales, so I could make sure Jess wouldn’t be on my back. After she left for her break, I got away from the dance floor and wandered around the booths, trying to catch a glimpse of his smart fitted suit and well-groomed mustache.

Finding him was easy. Flanked by a few of his friends, having the most fun I’ve seen him having in a while, Cesar laughed, throwing his head back, and dropped the ashes of his cigar in his empty glass, over the melting ice cubes.

“... But you know, when one dates eighteen-year-olds, one pays the price—”

“And what price would that be?” I asked him.

Once I showed up he just glanced at me, as if he had been expecting me to appear by his side all along.

“And I’m nineteen,” I muttered between teeth. “Though I guess you don’t care much about that, one way or another.”

Cesar sighed, put his cigar between his teeth, and tucked a couple bills under the glass. I eyed it carefully, knowing that it would get all wet and wrinkled by the time one of the busboys came to collect it.

“Come on, darling, let’s dance—”

“I’m not here to dance, ‘darling’,” I hissed back at him. “I’m here to work. Doing something useful, for once, you know?”

He stretched his lips to the sides. Not really a smile nor a grimace: just a sort of half acknowledgement that he had heard me. “How’s the scars?”

The tip of his fingers stroked my arm as he looked down. I closed my eyes. It didn’t hurt, not even a little bit.

“… Kinda stings.”

Cesar clicked his tongue. His face was so close to mine that I could almost hear his soft breathing, even under the loud music. “Val, Val…”

When I opened my eyes again, I was inches away from resting my head on his shoulder, his arm resting on my hip, as he always did when he guided me to the dance floor. Even while angry, my body just leaned towards him, craving his touch.

“You and your little antics,” he almost chuckled. “You’re lucky you’re such a lovely little thing.”

Otherwise, someone might just get tired of it really quick.

“You did me a favor right there,” Cesar said against my ear, his lips grazing my curls. “I was getting tired of the bunch.”

He turned me around, taking my hand and giving me a little spin. That was, sadly, just enough to break my pout. I barely managed to bring it back just in time for him to pull my hand to lay his shoulder, lovingly stroking the thin scars on my knuckles with his thumb. Then I was weak again. I looked back up at his face, hoping not to see what I was expecting.

“You know, Val,” he said with a smile and a sigh, cupping my cheek in his warm familiar hand. “Seeing your face can really turn my day around.”

There was love in Cesar’s brown, glittering eyes. It was undeniable, as real as the warmth of his body, as the sweat running down my back. I stared down at the shimmering colors of the cellophane bags hanging from my neck, as if that way I could tell myself I simply had no feelings left for him. As if his compliments weren’t as effective as they always were.

“We’re done, Cesar,” I blurted quietly before I could change my mind.

He frowned. “What?”

I could still lie and save this, I automatically told myself. This didn’t have to end. This could still be fixed. A little more time, and a little more faith, and then there’d never be a single moment of doubt that he loved me. But then, the hand that was holding mine started to squeeze hard enough to hurt.

“I said we’re done, Cesar,” I repeated, raising my voice.

He let out a little chuckle. “Please, Val, you’re acting like a child—”

“That’s just the sort of thing I’m done with, Cesar,” I said, trying to pull away, my hand slipping from his grip. “I’m tired of you dismissing me, like I’m some stupid little baby you can boss around… Let’s just get this over with.”

“I miss one dinner, and you act like it’s the end of the world!”

“It’s not just the dinner!” I cried. “It’s the dinner –and my birthday –and you not picking me up from the station –and you never being there –and how you never want us to do anything together besides going dancing and fucking and having me listen to all your boring shit –and you know what, I’m sick of it!”

He took a deep breath and grabbed my wrist. “Val, listen to me. Listen.”

“Let go—”

“Remember Puerto Rico?” he insisted, pulling me closer to him. “Yes, you do. Remember what I said. We could be happy there, don’t you think?”

“Cesar—”

“You said that if I proposed, you’d accept in a heartbeat. I remember that,” he said, his voice syrupy-sweet, so different to the way he was grabbing me. “So?”

That got me to listen. I blinked, frozen in place.

“Would you marry me, Val?”

I turned and glanced around me, completely lost, unable to even ask myself if I had heard him correctly –I had –or if he was joking –he wasn’t. Cesar was being perfectly earnest. What’s more, he was convinced I would say yes. Because I would have said yes. Cesar knew perfectly well how much I dreamed of a beautiful wedding, of a picture-perfect life with someone who loved me. And yet –did he? Did he, truly, when he popped the question just as I was trying to break up with him, in a crowded nightclub, surrounded by people dancing, while on the clock? A part of me said that his declaration, in the spur of the moment, could be seen as romantic. Another part of me, the one that actually had some sense left, said he was bullshitting me. I had no way of knowing whether he really meant it, or if, after three months of being together, he’d divorce me like he did with his ex-wife.

So much for commitment. Looking back up into his eyes, though, and seeing how certain he was I would say yes, I realized something else. I was still pretty young, but this might just be the only time in my life someone would ever love me enough to want to marry me. If I didn’t say yes, and I did break up with Cesar, it wouldn’t be like when I broke up with Heath: I would keep thinking about what would have happened, if I had made a different choice. Regret might just eat me alive. That old line of reasoning came back: maybe if I just waited this one out, married him and gave him a year or two more, Cesar would love me again, like he used to.

But maybe I was just fooling myself.

We make our own choices, we pay our own prices. If saying no to a loveless marriage meant I would be alone for the rest of my life…

“I said we’re done, Cesar,” I said, for the last time, as coldly as I could. “I don’t want to see you again.”

I finally managed to pull my arm away from him. He was too stunned to stop me. I turned around, and thought of going into the changing room and taking a break, before realizing I was already crying again and wasn’t in the mood to be surrounded by gossiping girls.

“Val!”

Wiping the tears off my eyes, still walking away, I looked over my shoulder. Cesar was trying to make his way to me through the crowd. I hurried towards the bathrooms.

“Val!”

I finally reached the women’s restrooms, skipped the line and locked myself in. I left the tray on the floor, sat on the toilet, and bawled like a baby.

“Val! Val!” I heard him knocking on the door.

“Go away!”

He kept yelling for a couple minutes more. I stayed quiet, biting down so hard I got a pain in my jaw. Cesar cursed me, called me names, but I remained silent. Then he apologized, and begged me to come out, and said he would make it all better. That almost got me. But I waited a bit longer. And, with a grumble and the click of his ivory lighter, I heard his echoing steps leaving the bathroom. Only when I couldn’t hear him anymore I could breathe freely again.

It was done. I had broken up with him, and was alone, really alone, once more.

Still crying, feeling the tension of the anger and the sheer despair hurting my neck and my arms and my hips, I closed my hand in a fist and banged it against the wall. I threw a fit, hitting and kicking the walls that were closing in on me, making me feel even smaller, even more powerless. I just about stopped short of screaming. I didn’t want to, but I kept thinking of the villa and all the white roses, the pool in the backyard, the palm trees against the blue sky, and Cesar’s soft hands running over my back, the tickle of his mustache on my knee, the quiet restrained sound of his laugh… All the things I lost. We might just have been able to make it. Be happy together. I could have gotten used to feeling lonely. For him, I might have tried.

But it was too late. The choice was made. I didn’t take the chance. There would be no prize. Just the bland empty comfort of safety.

After a while I finally managed to calm down a bit. I told myself I wouldn’t do what I did when Heath cheated on me. I had taken the initiative, after all. I’ve made a choice and it was all my doing. Regrets or not, I was in control. But then, after the shift was over and I got back to the Broslin, my palms stinging from the bruises, and finally realized just how truly exhausted I was for once, I started sobbing and I kept on sobbing, all night through, cursing at myself for being so weak. As if it would help anything, I went over every single fight we had, every moment I had felt unloved, and I repeated to myself that I was right. And I really was. But that didn’t change in any way how I felt.

I know I should have killed Cesar right away. That would have really made me feel better. For a long time I really wondered if it just might have been worth getting locked up in prison for.

Next day I didn’t go to his office and ask if he was there. I went to work, as if nothing had happened. I sold some goodies, had a drink, stayed silent in the changing room, noticing but not commenting on Sally’s sideways glance. Jamie, Ernie and Colin asked me about details of my breakup with Cesar, and I told them to fuck off. From there on, it was all the usual motions. I was waiting for the inevitable moment in which Jess would come up to me and tell me that Cesar said I was fired. It never came. Next day I came back to work, and Jess said nothing to me, and Cesar was nowhere to be found on the dance floor. I wondered if he was avoiding me, or if this was just like he always was, fickle with his public appearances. Playing hard to get. And during all this time I stayed available, ready with a smile and a sales pitch, selling the little cellophane bags, and looking around in case my now-ex decided to show up and apologize and ask me for another chance. I went back and forth on whether or not I would agree for us to try again.

Cesar never approached me with a new offer, though, so it was, like so often it was with me, another fantasy. I enjoyed these delusions too much, smiling to myself, thinking of how he’d say he was so sorry, and that this time it would be better, and he would embrace and kiss me and prove that what we needed was just a little shock to the system, to prove the relationship was alive and well after all. For a whole week, I kept feeding the little fantasy, staying around a bit late after sunrise, while the cleaning lady broomed away the shimmering confetti, waiting for him to come down the stairs, with a smile and a twinkle in his eyes. My fairytale prince.

And then the week passed, and it was back to reality, and another week passed, and I hadn’t seen Cesar, not even heard of him. If I wasn’t so proud and convinced he had to be the one to make the first step, I would have gone up the stairs to his office and demanded to meet with him. I didn’t. I had broken up with him, after all. And sure as hell I wasn’t gonna beg for him to take me back.

I downed a glass of rum and coke at the Playhouse bar. Why I drank rum and coke back then, I can’t tell for sure. I didn’t even like it that much. I just liked the syrupy aftertaste of the soda, but nothing about rum felt good anymore.

“Hey, baby—!” Jamie startled me, showing up by my side, without his usual posse to my surprise.

I groaned. “God, what is it now?”

“Don’t get your panties in a twist, Val, it’s nothing half as grisly as last time…” he said chipperly. “I got a little job for you.”

Last time I did Jamie a favor I had to get rid of the body of Max Morlacchi, a fashion designer who had OD’d downstairs. Half of Jamie’s bonus, for making sure nobody connected his death to his night out at the Playhouse. It had been a risky job, but at least I’d gotten to have a ride in his Blackhawk. Such a pity, when I had to let it fall along with its owner into the river.

“Elliot and his pals have the VIP room for tonight,” Jamie explained. “And they’re needing a waitress.”

“Jamie, I can’t—”

“Yes, you can. I’ve already asked Kit and Ollie to do it, and they’re not gonna budge...”

“And why do you think I will?”

“Listen, you know I can’t be in the same room as Elliot,” Jamie said. “He’s gonna get absolutely wasted, and try something on me, and his fiancée will freak out, and he’ll say I was the one making the moves—”

“That’s not my problem.”

Jamie gave me a pout and brought his hands together as if in a prayer. “Please, Val. Have a shred of sympathy for a poor working man...”

I let out a deep sigh. Tips had been few and far between lately, and I could always use some of that bonus Jamie offered in exchange for my help. He noticed me considering it, and smiled: to him, it was as if I had already said yes.

“But –Jamie, listen, I’m not a waitress –I’m a goody girl—”

“You’re whatever people tell you to be. And now, you’re a waitress. And a goody girl,” he added, his hands on my shoulders, gripping in a way I knew he hoped was comforting but only came out as forceful. “Besides, they might need some extra stuff to make it through the night.”

“ I’m gonna need some extra stuff.”

“Jess’ll understand if a couple goodies go missing.”

I sighed. “How much is there for me?”

“Look, I’m feeling generous. I can give you half my bonus, if you take care of it the whole night.”

“Seventy-five percent,” I demanded. “And we’re talking.”

“I’m not feeling that generous!”

“Then you’ll have to find someone else.”

In the end Jamie handed me the key to one of the rooms in the basement, and with that he turned around, put on his happy face, and went back to the squeaky group of golden-wrapped dancers with open arms. I turned the key in my hand, feeling its warm weight.

Behind a smoked-glass door, beyond a narrow staircase, there was a dark hallway with seven doors covered by a heavy curtain, all leading to a different room. I had been told a few stories about it by the rest of the crew at the Playhouse: the secrecy of the VIP rooms meant the customers felt particularly eased into doing stuff they wouldn’t even do upstairs. They were all super exclusive, and of which most regulars of the nightclub didn’t even know about. Each room was themed around a certain color (the blue one had been where Morlacchi had died, and the only one I had been in so far), but the true crown jewel was the one at the very end of the hallway, the one which my key would open. It was a dark room, with all-black furniture, that was barely lit by the light of chandeliers reflecting on the mirrors that covered the walls, the ceiling, the floor. I glanced around me, back into the eyes of the Tiffanys multiplied around me, feeling as if I had been thrown back at the audition I had had at the beginning of summer. There were more of me looking down from the roof, and one with the soles of her shoes glued to mine, and for a moment I was amused by the head-spinning effect of being everywhere at the same time.

The wonder was short-lived. The place was crawling with stylish people in garish revealing outfits, just a little bit more out-there than those of the regulars upstairs at the dancefloor. There weren't a lot of guests, but just like me they were multiplied by the mirrors facing each other all around us, which made the room look infinite. Still, despite the funhouse effect, it didn’t change the fact that it was a bunch of stuck-up fuckers I would have to babysit for the rest of the night. And, by the quick glance a couple of women shot me, they were just as happy to see me as I was to see them.

“Oh…” said Elliot, the man in snakeskin boots, his arms wrapped around a woman barely covered in white feathers, as he glanced at me up and down. “I thought Marty would be serving us tonight.”

“Marty’s occupied at the moment.”

“What about Kit?” the feathered woman (I think her name was Maxine) asked with a frown. Now the rest of the guests were turning to me, expecting answers. “Kit’s always free for us…”

“He’s… He’s engaged in other matters, as well.”

Ronnie lit a thick cigar, raising his eyebrows. A woman at the back, Jordan, let out the deepest sigh. “Well, that’s disappointing.”

Apart from the rhythmic thumping from upstairs, there was a bunch of loudspeakers blaring disco music. But there was silence. I felt everyone, even the reflections, staring at me.

Someone put a Gloria Gaynor song, and not even one of her good ones. They didn’t really need any music, just a beat to dance to, something to fill the silence.

“Hey, Miss Sourpuss,” Ronnie said between teeth, grabbing my hips and pulling me against him. “It’s a party, haven’t you noticed? Would it kill you to lighten up?”

He was getting far too handsy already for my taste. “I’m not here for that, mister.”

“Then what’re you here for?”

“To… To serve you—”

“Well, I know a way you can do that—”

Enough was enough. I shoved him aside, with such bad luck that he tripped and fell head-first on a little vinyl side table, spilling an ashtray and a few champagne glasses.

“You bitch!” Ronnie yelled. He touched his nape, and when he brought out his hand it was just a little bit stained with red.

“What the fuck!?”

“Who do you think you are!?”

I wanted to run away. But if I did, then it would be official –I would be sacked… And as far as I knew, no waiter nor goody girl nor busboy had ever been officially sacked from the place –and I didn’t want to be the first. After a long night of partying, surely the guests would forget all about it anyways…

So I stayed quiet on the sidelines, with my back against the mirrored corner, becoming as small as I could, while Maxine and Jordan went to help the man back up to his feet. Soon enough they forgot I was even there, and were drinking and dancing as if nothing had happened. I kept staring at the back of Ronnie’s head, at the trickling line of blood going down his neck and staining his white shirt…

About half an hour into the party the drugs began to kick in, and everyone soon began moving more loosely, making less of an effort to look cool. A couple of them snapped their fingers at me, calling me for their supply, and I delivered. After that, things became messy. People tripped and mumbled in attempts at singing, women screamed in amusement when their partners grabbed at them, men kicked each other in their clumsy dance steps. I finally grinned. It was amusing, especially since the place was relatively small (at least compared to the dance floor upstairs) and everyone was clearly making their best effort to take as much room as they could, to be the center of attention. Me, I watched in silence, smoking by myself. A few other guests were also resting and smoking quietly on the sticky black sofa, some of them choosing to engage in some heavy petting. Soon enough they would all end up shedding their clothes, I thought, and going all out. That was what the VIP room was for, apparently. Orgies for the rich, the ones who wouldn’t want to mix with the riffraff.

“ I said, darling, be mine... It won't take us very long, ” Gaynor sang. “ Darling, be mine... We could have a love so strong... ”

“Hey, you!” Maxine called me with a hand gesture, her bangles somehow clanking loud enough to be heard over the music. “Gimme a light.”

I did as I was told. Her hand was shaking, though, shaking bad enough and holding the cigarette tight enough that her fingers got too close to the flame. Maxine let out a shriek and dropped the cigarette.

“You burned me, you little fuck!” she yelled.

I grit my teeth, said nothing, looked down and bent to pick the cigarette. Next thing I knew Maxine pressed her platform shoe against my butt and pushed me. The tray I had been holding pretty unsteadily finally fell to the mirrored floor, and coke and ludes and a bunch of little cellophane bags and boxes spread to the guests’ feet.

“Look what you did, now!” said another woman, maybe Carole.

“What a damn waste.”

“God, I thought the service would be better—”

“Must be a new girl, y’know—”

“Where are you from, darling?” Mimi asked me, swinging a glass of champagne in her hand. For a moment I thought I could see something similar to sympathy in her eyes. “The Heights? Bronx?”

I felt rather dizzy, and having all those people towering over me, their faces shadowed, confused me too much to think my reply over. “… Jersey.”

Why did I say that? I still don’t know. But they all burst out in a loud explosion of laughter.

“Oh, that explains everything!”

“You’re a long way from home, Dorothy!”

“Hey –ice,” Carole ordered, snapping her fingers and pointing at her drink. “Make it quick, would you?”

I stood up and stumbled to the large piece of ice that was already melting fast, dripping over the overflowing aluminum box it came in. Grabbing the icepick, I broke it as small as I could, shoved the chunks into the bucket, and went towards Carole and offered it to her. She gave me a glance.

“So? What’re you waiting for, Jersey? Put some ice in it.”

I had forgotten the tongs by the aluminum box. Taking a deep breath, I dipped my hand in the bucket to pick up the ice myself—

“What the fuck d’you think you’re doing?” Carole yelled. “Don’t use your hands! I have no idea where they’ve been!”

At this I could only laugh. These people were fucking like the world was ending, snorting enough coke to fill a sandbox, and she was worried about where my hands had been? Maybe it was the dizziness, the way that I was already losing the little patience I had left, or maybe the fact that it was just a very funny thing indeed. But Carole didn’t seem to find it funny at all.

“Stop it! Stop laughing!” she insisted, and smacked my temple. “God –you’re insane!”

The smack wasn’t hard. What stinged, though, was the shame. No, not the shame... The anger. I looked up at her for once, at her face. The sweat had smeared her sparkly purple eyeshadow, and she had twisted her pretty features into something out of the Looney Toons. I thought about the line of blood going down Ronnie’s neck, the man in the white shirt, and focused my sight in the wrinkled space in between Carole’s furrowed eyebrows. All these people were so beautiful, so lucky, so rich, and still they found reasons to bitch and complain.

I didn’t have to think too much about it after that.

I raised the icepick over my head –and with one quick swoop I pierced right between her eyes. She barely gasped. I had managed to shove it deep, so I pulled it out with some effort –a thin stream of blood trickled down out of the wound –and did it again, this time stabbing her eye. And again. And again. And by the fifth time Carole’s partner, Gavin, who had been pawing at her all this time, realized what was going on and let out a scream. I kept stabbing her forehead with the icepick until the hole in it was big enough to stick your whole finger in it. Then I looked up at Gavin, who had managed to call a few other people’s attention –not many of them, though –since most were still too busy partying the night away. I stood up and, before anyone could say anything, I stabbed him –this time in the neck, shutting him up for good. And then—

Well, then I went all out. I went for hearts and stomachs next, of everyone and anyone who stood next to me and hadn’t had a taste yet. When half of the people at the party were already lying on the mirrored floor, in a pool of their own blood, there were still guests dancing and making out. I took a small breather, sinking on the black sofa, picking up one of the champagne bottles and guzzling down what was left in it. The kills soon had me in a state of sheer euphoria, my hands trembling, adrenaline pumping wildly. My weariness was mixing in with my thrill, the heaviness in my limbs along with the lightness in my head, making quite the sensory cocktail. The thumping bass in the music echoed and boomed under my feet, I could feel my heartbeat throbbing on my skin, there was a light giddiness buzzing behind my eyes. I considered taking a break, just to bask in the bliss of the fresh kills… But then I realized, if I stopped, then whoever was left alive would know it had been me.

And, besides, the night was still young.

I picked myself up from the sofa, turning the bloodied icepick in my hand, pushing my hair back and off my sweaty face. Just for good measure, I sucked on two of my fingers, pressed them against the coke someone had left nicely lined on a little mirror over the vinyl side table, and rubbed it on my gums like it was powdered sugar. It was the really good stuff, the sort of pure blow they would only bring out for a special occasion.

And –shaking the exhaustion off –with a sudden rush of energy going through me –like an electric shock –I went on, taking my time now to fully savor it. I stabbed Ronnie in the back, pushing the icepick in as deep as I could, the tip of the metal scraping against his bones. I grinned –it was unlike anything I had done before –it was as if I could feel things so much differently than usual –as if my senses were heightened. When I pulled it out, the stain was spreading in his white shirt like a blooming flower. It would have been pretty to watch as it soaked completely, but I didn’t have the time for it. Stuff to do, sights to see. I went to the next person, Elliot, whom I recalled Jamie hating so much –going for the throat again –now going deep enough so the other end of the icepick could come out of the other side of her neck. It made a nice rather squishy meaty sound, like when preparing lamb skewers. There were four or five people left, all of them now aware, to a certain degree, of what was happening. Unfortunately for them they were all against the opposite wall to the door, and apart from a couple screams and pleas, they were too shocked or high to know how to react. I mean –I couldn’t blame them, now, could I?

I pushed two women to the side and bashed one of their heads against the wall, shattering it in a spiderweb-like pattern. Broken mirrors meant seven years of bad luck, but I don’t know –I was feeling pretty lucky then. I stabbed both of them, their hot blood splattering me, and something about it –can’t say what, exactly –felt particularly wonderful. I wiped my forehead with my elbow, smearing it all over my face. I caught a glance of myself in the mirrors in front of me, my thrilled eyes, my wide grin, blood dripping off me like I had been caught in the rain. It was the happiest I had seen myself in quite a while.

A man who had been cornered (Kenny, or maybe Tony?) was trying to crawl away. I sank my icepick in his leg –he squealed like a pig –and I quickly got up back to my feet and pushed the loudspeaker on top of him, smashing him flat. I had never seen that happen before either, and it was quite a funny sight, like a cake being dropped and all its filling spilling out. But then I noticed movement on the mirrors on the walls, and saw the last person alive –Maxine, the one who had kicked me and made me drop the tray, the woman in platform shoes –screaming her head off and running out the door.

I ran after her, wielding the icepick, panting, drawing quick sharp breaths between teeth. She tried to run up the stairs, but she was clearly too tipsy to keep her balance. Her shoes were too bulky to go up quickly enough, and soon enough she tripped and fell down the steps, breaking her nose, rolling towards me –and as soon as she landed at my feet –I made sure she wouldn’t get up again.

The party upstairs went on. Nobody heard the screams.

My heart was beating so fast. I took a moment to catch my breath again. I hadn’t had that much excitement in years.

Once I calmed down a bit, I went back to the VIP room. I picked up one of the last bottles of champagne and found Ronnie’s forgotten cigar, a few inches away from the growing pool of blood. I picked it up, raised it to my lips, and took a deep drag, closing my eyes. A little treat to myself, since Ronnie wouldn’t have any use for it anymore. Then, I made my way out of the party, upstairs, through the dancefloor and back out onto the bright streets of Manhattan.

The late-night subway was hot and dirty and rickety like always, and I was still tired and hungry; but now my blood was pumping, and I had a big smile on my face. The grimy windows still managed to reflect back to me the image of my wide-open eyes, bright red smeared over my pink eyeshadow –a deeper, richer tone, not gentle and pretty anymore. I was riding the high of the last rush of adrenaline, and as I closed my hand, I could perfectly remember the feeling of sinking the icepick into soft flesh. I sighed. It was ecstasy. It was exhilarating. It was pure pleasure. It didn’t matter then that I was back to being on my own.

I sold the rest of my gifts, and with the money I went to the diner around the corner, and treated myself to a huge, hearty lunch. Then I bought a big red pleather suitcase, packed up, and that same afternoon I left New York. Even though I thought it very unlikely that anyone back at work would ever report me to the police, it still felt like the right thing to do… Of course, I lost my job. Or at least I think I did; I didn’t return the next day, just in case. I didn’t see Cesar again. But if I had to leave the Playhouse at some point (and our last chat had made it clear that it would be sooner than later), despite the anonymity, this was the best way I could ever do that –in a blaze of gore and glory.

#fanfiction #chucky series #childs play #tiffany valentine

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purplesurveys · 2 years

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Describe your hometown. What's it like there? On a constant path to growth, which has been pretty cool to watch since I’ve lived here since I was a kid. The thing about where I’m from is that cities outside Manila rarely dramatically change - they would look the same as they were 10, 15 years ago. But where I’m from started as this really bare city, and now it’s anything but that. Which is great too because I imagine I’d be bored out of my mind if it never changed.

What did you do yesterday evening? Hung out at the rooftop while I listened to Indigo. Then it rained so I went downstairs only to find that the big-ass bathtub I ordered for my mom this Christmas had finally arrived. It’s nearly comical how big the box for it is and it got even funnier when my sister asked “Whose body are we hiding?” lmfao. Anyway, we hid it behind the sofa not for the sake of hiding it from my mom (because that shit is gonna get spotted any other way) but so that it isn’t an eyesore.

Are you comfortable with leaving the house without any makeup on? I never leave the house with makeup. I know I’ve filled this up before because I’m about to say what I said the last time – it would be more noteworthy for me to leave the house with makeup on than without.

Do you have any expensive hobbies? I’d say being in a fandom is.

What length do you like to keep your nails at? Continued from Sunday. Not too long, because I think it starts to look gross when they start looking like big chunks.

What's your favorite memory with your last ex? I’m not sure...maybe that time we went to this club with friends then spent literally the rest of the evening walking around the city, after everyone had long gone home. There was a calming sense of freedom and peace going around the city like that, with only a few cars passing every now and then and knowing most of the population was asleep In any case, that’s one of the handful of things I can still remember because otherwise I’m forgetting more and more of that relationship’s existence with every day that passes.

Have you ever felt physical pain in a dream? There have been a few nightmares where my chest had felt 500 lbs heavier.

What is the oldest online account that you still use? My current Twitter account, which I opened in 2010. I actually made my first account there in 2008 but I’ve long deleted that.

Have you ever had Christmas carolers come to your house and sing for you? That only ever happened in the duplex we used to live in, since our area is a pretty common/busy route in that village; I know carolers still stop by to this day because there was a group that was standing in front of our gate the last time we came over a month ago. Our current house, though, is right at the end of the village so nobody ever makes it to this point.

Do you know anyone whose family has lived in the same house for 3+ generations? Angela.

What was the last video game you beat? I have never beaten a video game; I never had the skills to, haha.

What's your favorite Studio Ghibli film? Grave of the Fireflies.

What did you learn from your last failed relationship? I ignored and let certain things go because I didn’t want it to end, but nope not doing that again. < This is true, but I’ve also come to terms with the fact that the entire relationship was doomed from the start. It shouldn’t have happened; but since it did, it shouldn’t have lasted the length that it lasted. This italicized point is just one of the entire novel of things I’ve since learned from having been in that relationship.

What country does your favorite band hail from? Do boy groups count? South Korea.

What's something on your to-do list that never actually gets done? Having a loft bed made has been on the backburner most of this year but I’m excited to say that I’m finally starting the steps to get it done! I’ve started to do some scouting for possible pegs and I want to have it by around Jan or Feb at the latest.

Have you ever been really passionate about something but then lost interest? If so, what was it? This was me with reading. Being a bookworm was my one and only personality in grade school, and I frequently smuggled novels to school even though it wasn’t allowed; people also solely knew me as someone who kept to herself and just read and read and read. Somewhere along Grade 6, I suppose I got depressed and simultaneously got busier with school and just didn’t have the headspace and time anymore to read; eventually I failed to catch up with which books people were getting into until I just stopped reading as a habit altogether.

It’s not totally lost on me though, I would say. My love for reading has since continued to live on in my love for writing, which I’m confident will never go away; it is still my favorite thing to do. I also still read from time to time, but my materials of choice have changed; like I don’t think I’ll be touching a novel again for a long time but I still enjoy memoirs, articles, essays, that kind of stuff.

Do you sleep with the TV or the radio on? No, it’s a waste of electricity. I do keep YouTube autoplay on my phone as I turn in, but I also make sure my phone’s timer is toggled so that it shuts down after a certain amount of minutes.

What's the worst thing about being male/female (whichever you are)? How things that we have to deal with end up being a part of public debate, legal or otherwise. Stuff like periods still being taboo, the legality of abortion, and at least in the case of Asia, the social standing/implications of being a single mom.

What movie has the best special effects? I’m generally not a fan of genres known to have CGI like fantasy and war so I wouldn’t be the best person to ask about this, but I will say that 2001: A Space Odyssey (especially considering the year it was made) and Interstellar are top favorites. How many work hours per week is too much for you? I will sometimes have weeks that require me to spend 12-15 hours a day and that always takes a toll on my mental health.

What habit is essential to your daily life? Making my morning cup of coffee.

What is your favorite documentary? Jiro Dreams of Sushi.

When did you last have a vision test? Last year when I needed a new prescription for my glasses.

What do you typically eat for breakfast? Just coffee. I skip breakfast.

What are three things you need to do tomorrow? Get my physical tickets for the Kim Seonho fanmeet :D That’s about it. Otherwise I plan to spend the day lazing away.

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incendiobrock · 3 years

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Pranked You ;) {Colby Brock}

Request: Hello sweetie! I was wondering if you could do a story where the reader and Colby aren't dating YET but there is yah know, chemistry and tension. But one day sam decided to pull a prank on Colby and it involved EVERYONE. So basically he makes it seem like he woke up in a different world or something where stuff is different. For example: him and reader are dating (you can choose whatever other stuff happens, lol) but once Colby figures out the prank, he pulls reader aside. They have a small argument before reader blows off on him, in which he says "I've never wanted to kiss you as badly as I do know" and that's how they admit their feelings! Thank you! And can't wait to see what you write love

A/N: Hi! Thank you so much for your request, sorry for the wait, I have been very busy with school and work. I hope the wait is worth it though! Get ready for a long imagine, I’m pretty sure this is about 3,000 words. I hope you love it! I just realized that I tried to keep this imagine gender neutral but I forgot that I accidentally put some she/her pronouns in it, I’m so sorry!

Warnings: Angsty, Cussing, Mentions of alcohol, implied smut

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It was just like any other day for you. You woke up around noon because you were exhausted from the day before. Between working, going to college, and trying to keep somewhat of a social life, everyone could see just how worn out you would get day to day. So today you decided to treat yourself with a few extra hours of this beautiful thing called sleep.

Your phone rest on the bedside table and of course checking it and replying to the unread messages was the first step of your morning routine. The first messages you saw were from the group chat that consisted of you, Kat, and Tara. Apparently, while you were sleeping, Tara and Kat had a whole conversation about a girl’s day that they wanted to plan for you three. The last text sent was from Kat and it read, “I can’t wait for y/n to see all these messages in the morning. We planned the best girl’s day while she was probably passed the fuck out in her bed lmao”.

You smiled sending them a text back alerting them that you are indeed alive and down for all the plans they had created. In fact, you would be seeing them later at Sam and Colby’s place for a couple’s dinner/pool/movie date night. Jake would be there as well, and although you were tragically single, you loved all of them to death and hanging out over there was like the most elite sleepovers you would have with your best friends as a child.

A new text appeared on your screen just as you began to emerge from the comfort of your bed sheets, “God finally you’re awake. I’ve been waiting for Kat to tell me you answered her message all morning. I need your help tonight with a prank. Colby is never going to see it coming”

“A prank? I thought you guys didn’t do that anymore...? But I’m in ;)” You sent back. Out of all the trap girls and all the boys, Colby and you got along the best. Ever since you first met, which was years ago at this point, Colby and you have been inseparable. You tried so hard to avoid your feelings for him, in hopes to not develop a crush that ended up ruining your friendship, but Kat picked up on it right away. She told you constantly that she could easily set you up with the beautiful blue-eyed boy, but you insisted that things would happen naturally if there was truly something there between the two of you. And so, you went on, day by day, falling helplessly in love with the sweetest boy you have ever come to know.

Sam sent a message telling you to head over to their place as soon as possible. You swore that you basically lived there already. You were at their house way more than you were at your own. You couldn’t imagine living further than 15 minutes from them. After what felt like a century to Sam, you arrived at the house. Your hand loudly knocking on the big wooden door.

“Hey y/n! How are you?” Kat asked, pulling you into a big hug as she opened the door. You smiled and hugged back at her kind gesture, “I’m good! How are you? Do you know anything about this prank on you know who?” You questioned her. She glared at you, silently telling you to lower your volume. “Y/n! Colby is right upstairs be quiet!” She whispers, laughing at you almost blowing their cover immediately upon arrival.

Kat was quick to take you by the arm and drag you to the theater room where Sam was already sitting on one of the opulent red couches. He greeted you, telling you that he wanted to film your reaction to him telling you what prank you were going to pull. You agreed and sat down on the sofa facing the blonde. “Colby’s taking a nap right now upstairs because he was up super late last night editing one of our Sam and Colby videos. I figured we could use his exhaustion to our advantage and try and prank him that he woke up in some sort of alternate universe. I figured you could go into his room and set up a couple cameras, and I’ll keep two hidden in the living room where me, Kat, Jake, and Tara will be, so we hopefully get his full reaction. I want you to sneak into his bed and like cuddle him or something and when he wakes up, I want you to pretend that you’ve been dating him for a long time now. He is going to be super confused but just try and convince him that it’s true. If he ends up downstairs, we will go along with it too. I really want to see if he will think that it’s real after a while.” Sam explained.

You felt your face burning as your cheeks became a deep shade of red. He couldn’t be serious right? He wanted you to pretend that you were dating Colby? “I- Uh… I don’t know Sam won’t that be a really mean prank?” You tried to play it off, hoping that you didn’t just annihilate all your efforts to keep your feelings hidden. “You guys are like best friends, I don’t think he could be mad at you for such an innocent prank.” Sam replied. You began to feel incredibly flustered at the thought of having to be so affectionate with Colby. The room started to feel like a sauna as the sweat began accumulating all over your body.

Sure, you and Colby had cuddled before, but it was extremely platonic… Plus, it only happened in very specific moments, like last Wednesday after you had a couple of drinks, and everyone was sat watching a movie where he wrapped his arm around you so you could rest your head since it could barely hold itself up. You snapped out of your thoughts quickly realizing that Sam had been waiting on a response from you. You knew Sam was stubborn, he wouldn’t take ‘no’ for an answer. Your eyes met back with his and the only thing you could get yourself to do was slightly nod your head ‘yes’.

“Perfect.” Sam smirked, getting up to turn off the camera and hand it to you so you could set it up in Colby’s room. You already knew that he was thinking about how many points this would score him for a Sam and Colby prank war if it turns out the way he is wanting.

Before you knew it you had made it all the way up into Colby’s room where you had strategically hidden the camera, facing it towards the sleeping boy in his bed. You let out a deep sigh, trying to prepare yourself for what was about to go down. “If this ruins everything for me, I am going to kill you Golbach.” You whispered, knowing the deep sleeper wouldn’t hear a single thing. And so, the prank began.

You took a gentle hold of the silky black sheets and quietly slipped into bed right next to Colby. There was no game plan in your mind, you didn’t even think up a storyline about your fake relationship for once he woke up. You squeezed your eyes shut in fear as you quickly wrapped your body around his, resting your head under his chin as he slept on his back. He twitched slightly, bringing his arm up, lazily holding you back. The breath caught in your throat, this was already hard enough for you and now he is cuddling you back? You glanced up to see his face, his eyelashes were slightly fluttering, and his soft lips had a slight part in them. He was still fast asleep. You decided to try and wake him up by moving around in his arm slightly, hoping the movement would pull him out of his dreams.

“Y/n?” His voice rung through the room, deep and raspy. He sat up slightly, glancing around the dark lair that he called a bedroom, but his arm still remained around your frame. “W-what are you doing here?” He stuttered, visibly confused by the sight of you in his arms.

“What? I can’t cuddle my boyfriend?” You answered, shocked that you could even get those words to come out of your mouth. His eyes widened at your response, pure shock etched into his face. “Boyfriend?” You felt his heart start to race as he replied.

His arm dropped from your body as he delicately pushed himself out of bed. He was now hovering over you as he stood by the bedside table. There was a clear glass with some water sitting on a coaster on the table. His strong hand wrapped around it as he brought it up to his mouth, downing the rest of the water that was in it. You could tell by his body language that he was beyond confused. The glass clinked as he practically dropped it back onto the nightstand.

“Am I dreaming or something? Since when was I your boyfriend?” His eyebrows furrowed as he continued to look at you for some answers. Your heart sunk thinking about how mean of a prank this truly was, at least from your point of view. “Baby… Are you serious? We’ve been together for years now, are you feeling okay?” You said as you threw your legs over the side of the bed, pulling his hand into your own.

Your thumb gently rubbed circles onto the back of his hand, but only for a couple seconds before he pulled it away. “Is this a fucking prank or something?” He asked, irritation evident from his tone. You shook your head ‘no’, it was becoming hard to process words. You knew this was upsetting him, but Sam had you promise to make the prank last for as long as you could.

“I’m sorry- I have to get out of here really quick.” Colby said, making his way out the bedroom door. You said nothing back, hoping that Sam would end the prank for you as Colby made his way down the stairs.

“Hey brother! You’re finally up. Where’s y/n? I thought we were all doing a couples movie night?” Jake interrogated as Colby glanced to see Sam, Kat, and Tara standing over in the kitchen. Colby brought his hand up to his face rubbing his eyes, there’s no way that Jake is saying this too. Colby began to think that he was seriously going crazy. And then everyone else joined in on the conversation. You could hear them loudly as you stayed glued to Colby’s bed.

Sam began to ask if Colby was feeling alright, and you heard Kat say that maybe we should take Colby to the hospital in case he was losing his memory. You felt the panic in Colby rise as he was deflecting everyone’s concern insisting that he wasn’t losing his memory, and that he definitely wasn’t going crazy. He knew for a fact that you two weren’t dating, and none of them could convince him otherwise. “Dude, she’s gonna hear you up there. You’re going to break her heart. You really don’t remember?” Sam pushed.

You finally had enough. You raced out of Colby’s room and rushed down the stairs. You stopped immediately upon entering the kitchen, seeing everybody else still standing there surrounding Colby. The energy switched as they all looked to you, Sam pleading with his eyes for you to keep going. “I’m so sorry Colby, it was just a prank, please don’t be upset.” You couldn’t handle it any longer, the pain on his face was too much for you to bear. You watched as he scoffed back, “I knew it. Fuck you, guys. I’m going back upstairs.”

You felt horrible as you watched him stomp back up to his room, slamming the door shut behind him. Tears stung the back of your eyes, this was all your fault. You excused yourself from the group and somberly made it to Colby’s door. You preceded to place a faint knock on the wood, “Colby? I’m so sorry, can you please open up?” Your voice was so soft, it would’ve been hard for him to hear if he hadn’t already anticipated your arrival. The door swung open as Colby quickly made his way back over to where he previously sat on the couch.

You stayed frozen at the door for a couple seconds, hoping to brace yourself for the angry boy inside. You took hold of the cold metal doorknob, pulling the door shut behind you. You tip-toed your way over to the sofa and took a seat far from Colby. Your mind was running a hundred miles an hour as you tried to concoct a coherent sentence. “What the hell were you thinking? Did you seriously think that I would find this funny?” He spat in your direction.

“It wasn’t my prank, Sam just wanted me to help him out.” You said back, desperately trying to reason with him. He sarcastically laughed, running a hand through his dark hair. “I didn’t ask who’s prank it was y/n.”

You gulped, it felt suffocating in his room. The dark ambiance that normally felt inviting suddenly seemed like your own personal hell. “Colby, I didn’t want to hurt you I swear. I was trying my best to keep everything lighthearted. I could never hurt you.” Your voice was so delicate, it was so hard to speak. The tears were still threating to make an appearance, and that was the last thing you wanted.

“But you did, y/n. That’s the thing. Whether or not you ‘meant’ to hurt me, you did. And everyone else was in on it to. Did you even try and tell Sam that this prank wasn’t a good idea? Did you even think, for a split second, that this was incredibly immature? You were all treating me like I was losing my damn mind, trying to convince me that we were dating when we clearly never were.”

His words hurt, but they were all true. You had never been together, what were you thinking pretending like you were? All to satisfy Sam? To help him get a head start on the prank wars by completely crushing Colby’s heart? He is your best friend for crying out loud. “Look Colby. I never wanted to do this, okay? Did you ever stop and think that maybe I didn’t want to be doing this either? You mean everything to me. Why would I ever purposely hurt you? Especially after everything we have been through. All the ups and downs, the messy breakups, all the fights. I love you so god damn much and I hope you know that I would never, ever, hurt you like that.” By this point the tears were streaming down your face. Your previous spot on the couch was long discarded as you now stood right in front of Colby, praying that he knew you were being serious about not hurting him.

Your eyes searched his for any glimpse of a sign showing that he believed you. His bright blue eyes looked a lot more intimidating than usual. You couldn’t tell what he was thinking, his expression not giving you any clues. Finally, he responded, “Is it wrong that I’ve never wanted to kiss you as badly as I do right now?”

And finally, there was your sign. His eyes no longer looked intimidating. In fact, they had completely changed into something much different, lust. You quickly took a step closer to him as he took a stand right in front of you, placing his strong hands on either side of your face. He roughly pulled you in, causing your lips to crash together with loads of passion. They fit perfectly together, better than you ever imagined them. They worked in sync as the feeling inside of you was igniting a fire. He was so rough, but surprisingly still gentle. Acting as if one wrong move would completely break you. Your lips remained locked as he pushed you backwards, surprising you as your back made contact with his plush bed. He was on top of you, hungrily continuing the kiss.

You both pulled apart abruptly, gasping for air after your heavy make out session. “I guess now’s a good time to let you know that I am absolutely, one hundred percent, in love with you.” You stated, starring deep into his eyes. “Then I guess now’s a good time to tell you that I feel the same.” He responded, bringing you back in for another passionate kiss. You pulled back again, “So, does this mean I can finally see those handcuffs I keep hearing about in action?” You asked him, slightly laughing. “Only if you promise to keep quiet.” He winked back. And that was the start of your amazing, long awaited relationship.

#colby brock #Sam and Colby #colby brock x reader #colby brock imagines #sam golbach #jake webber #tara yummy #kat stuart

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starshipsofstarlord · 3 years

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The Eyes Are Lined

Summary: whilst on the last days of set of filming the show where he plays Tommy Lee, Sebastian is greeted with a surprise guest in his trailer, and he is certainly not going to be one to complain whence he’s gets a treat as sweet as you

Pairing: Sebastian Stan x reader

Warnings: 18+, smut, mentions of phone sex, oral sex (male + female receiving), unprotected sex, penetrative sex, p in v, degradation, spanking, daddy kink, teasing, fingering, pet names

Word Count: 4133

Masterlist Link

It fell from his lips as a relieved sigh, it had felt like forever since he had last seen you, and as he took in your form coiled in a baggy sweatshirt of his and hopefully nothing more, he was fast to close and lock the door behind himself. His tongue darted out to swipe the upon the underbite of his lip as he stepped slowly forwards in his adjourned flip flops, the wide shorts hanging off his legs. For this role he had very much diversified his appearance; lost weight, changed his hair, worn temporary tattoos - yet from the prowess that resonated through your eyes, nothing in the way of your attraction had changed.

“Sebba.” You greeted him with a wide smile, dismissing your phone that had been in your hand to the side of the couch, and crawling off the seat that you had taken up residence in. Instantly, your arms wrapped around his sleek torso, taking in the aroma of his deodorant that obliterated the senses through your nostrils. He pulled your face up with the grip of his heavy palm against your courteous cheek, as his breath fanned against the platter of your forehead.

“You’re here early, shooting doesn’t finish for another three days.” He stated, the grin that was tugging at his features clearly showing that he was anything but disappointed by your unspoken arrival. Tucking your arms to land around his waist like a belt that was enclosing him against you, you happily sighed, stroking your nose against the expanse of his bare chest that was beholden before you through the open curtains of his plain black hoodie. For a moment your eyes flickered down to the fake piercings that were strung like light fixtures from his nipples, watching as the silver metal beamed in contrast to the bulb that was fixed into the ceiling.

“I wanted to surprise you, it feels like forever since we were that close.” Was your confessing admission, as you pressed a warm kiss upon his revealed flesh, causing him to hum in acknowledgement of the amorous act. “Though I’m happy that god awful shadow is gone from your chin, if you want hair there then I suggest that you grow your beard back out.” You stroked your thumb over the crescent of his chin, running the pad through the indent as he inwardly cocked his brow, stiffening his jaw at your straight opinion.

“What’d you think of everything else? Be honest now darling.” He clicked his tongue, staring down at you with his smokily framed eyes, as you coiled back into your shoulders so that you could get a better overall viewpoint of him, as your hands descended to cupping the inward joints of his elbows. You balanced your weight on both of your feet, juggling between them to remain sturdy as you felt the mood in the trailer punctually shift, as though you were crossing through the mysterious channel that inhabited the Bermuda Triangle.

“Hmmm, well I’m rocking for the eyeliner, it really makes your eyes stand out more than they already do. And you know I’ve always been an absolute sucker for the longer hair, but I’m a sucker for you in general.” At that suggestive statement, you casted a sultry wink at him, hoping that he caught onto the act rather than thinking you had something entrapped in the perimeter of your eye. It was not dust that had clogged upon your pupil, instead it were lust, gripping onto the very image of him. It had been months, long ones at that since the pair of you had seen each other.

All the intimacy that your relationship confined in its long distance was dealt with over the phone, never once did the space that his work divulged the two of you apart make you feel lonely, he tried his utmost to ensure that you were comfortable even with miles for what seemed like an eternity separating you. The cellular contact that immersed your spare time furloughed for both late night calls that brought an innocent lovesick smile to resort upon the spectating image of your face that was reflected through the front camera of your phone, and sexual conducts that travelled across the countries that you were both in to bring you closer and alternatively higher together, in a blissful reunion that swamped your head with hyperactive hormones that followed after your mutual orgasms.

“Naughty.” He condoned you for your filthy innuendo, his hand cascading down the artwork of your body, and moving behind you, so that his fingertips were dancing upon the crown of your exempt ass cheek. “Guess all that time away has gotten you desperate for me, huh? Do you want to some sucking up to me? I’ve had a pretty hard day, and it would help me relieve a bunch of the stress that depends on these last few days. Not to mention I am so pent up from not seeing you all this time, it was practically torture honey bee, I’m not even sure how I survived.”

Dragging his head down to meet with your own, you pressed luscious and. Extended pecks onto his thin lips,having missed them covering every inch o your skin with the love that swelled in his chest and other places for you. “I don’t even know if you’ll last that long Bas, its been a certain while of you solely using your hand.” A giggle reaped from your throat as your hearing absorbed the gasp that slithered out of his mouth; he playfully pushed down upon the line of your shoulders, only enhancing your amusement by doing so. “So pushy.”

“That is right, and I will only get rougher with you the longer that it takes you to get down on your knees for me, so I would think logically. After all, after I completely wrap on this show, I’m going to have all the spare one in the world to put you in your little place and stop you from being a disobedient little brat.” It was a promise, he was threatening you in the most sexual way possible, and you’d be lying if you were to say that some aroused nectar hadn’t gathered in the passage that divided your highs down the middle. You gulped, intimacy written in every speck of your irises as you lowered yourself to be poised on your thighs, your face near the tent forming at his crotch.

The material of his shorts gathered with creases as his cock grew beneath the baggy subject that defined his legs that much more. A hand ravelled through your locks as you found yourself darting your tongue out to caress his legs, moving your muscle upwards as your hands teased the waistband of the barrier that prevented you from seeing all of him. “How much have you missed me baby, let daddy know.” Lightly, he begs to roll his hips forwards, pressing his erection teasingly against your face, and you were loving every second of it. His balls were pressing against your chin on every mimic forwards, and as you tried to speak, your voice was a tiny bit muffled by them.

“So much Sebby, I hated being apart from you.” You thought that would be a good enough answer, but as his fingers threaded further through your hair, a quiet yelp ejected from your throat as he strayed you head to be leant upwards so that you were gazing into his domineering eyes. That was when you realised that you must have made a mistake, but no matter what it was, it was much too late to take it back. Sexual fear paved through your gaze as you poured, wanting nothing to get back to your journey of duty which was to suck his cock, however, you could not continue if Sebastian had other things, such as whatever you had done so wrongly plaguing his mind.

“Bitch no cause why did you pronounce my name wrong? It begins with your favourite letter; a D, remember? And now I’m not even sure that you deserve my D. Right now I am not your Sebastian, what am I little girl?” He growled down at you, his toes rigidly curling in the open toed shoes that he were sporting, his hand remaining tangled in your hair.

“Daddy.” You tried not to sob out of dismissal, and instead expedited for apologising to refrain from angering him any further. “I’m so sorry daddy, I’ll do anything. Anything to make it up to you, please, I’ll never make that mistake again.” Unless it was not in this scenario of course, the pebbles of your tears brought a vivid richness and innocence upon your face, as though you were pooling diamonds out of the windows of your explicit soul. And I’m return, you were met with the gift of Seb shoving his shorts to be draped over his feet, his cock playing the curve of a sail as it stiffened more so at the air that hit it.

“Are you wearing anything underneath that sweatshirt baby?” He enquired as his right hand held his length in hand, enclosing his fist around the warm flesh that was beading with visible emotion at the tip. It was as though a pearl was balancing on the sector of his slit, teasing you as you dryly licked your lips, wanting nothing more than to ingest that into your body. To answer his question, your hands toyed with the bottom of his clothing article, pulling it up so that he could see your bare abdomen, of which was dressed in nothing more than your flawless skin.

“No daddy, I’m not. Am I in more trouble for that?” You worried that you were, all that you had wanted to do was surprise him, and you felt yourself grow a little giddy as he slowly shook his head, and pull back the coat of his foreskin to flash off as much of his cock as possible. He was teasing you to the slyest of his abilities, he wanted to subject you into doing something against your better judgement, and you remained strong, no matter how much you wanted to coil your lips around the head of his member and take him as far as the hollow of your throat would naturally allow.

“No baby, imma let you off the hook for that because I haven’t seen you in so long and I know that pretty little cunt has missed me probably more than the rest of you, but don’t test me again angel, or on the plane home you’re gonna have to sit on a bag of ice.” A part of you wanted to smirk, to coyly piss him off to see if that perseverance were to be true, however if you knew Sebastian, and you knew him more than well, you wouldn’t put anything past him nor his motives. “Go on, I can see you practically drooling to take me in your mouth. Don’t tease or I’ll fuck your face; be a good girl would ya.”

You weren’t going to waste anymore time, for all that you aware, any one of the set assistants could take him away from you, and that possibility only fuelled your instincts further as you hovered your head away from his hand, that was now patting and gently playing with your locks instead of using them as a leash, and flickered your tongue out to swipe that sample of precum and swallow it without hesitation. Before your mind could comprehend it, your body had already taken the next steps forwards and started to swallow down his member, your lashes fluttering closed as you hummed, sending a rhythm through Sebastian’s body of which made him cuss.

He was looking through half lidded eyes, almost shutting them, though stopping from doing so when he noticed your hand creep down the smooth skin of your thigh, and pry at your own folds. He was going to reprimand you for being so confident that you weren’t going to get caught doing something that was so ludicrous, but he decided that he were to allow you to continue for a moment. If he made a scene after revelling in his own pleasure, then you would be more compliant with whichever punishment that he nailed you down with. The tips of your digits quivered around your lips, before sinking within your walls and the rest of your palm cupped your pussy.

It made more sense now you were moaning against him, for not only the taste of him that hung heavily on your tongue, but from the slip of power that you thought you had over him, even if it be cloaked in secrecy. As he thought more of that, he found himself starting to fume with an underlining of rage, his fists stiffened at his sides as he exhaled through a combination of the sensations rippling beneath his skin. It was a combination of brewing disappointment and foreseen arousal; his veins burned with both, turning his blood warm and drumming his brain with one thing - it were his birthright to make you submit before him.

And though you were positioned in front of him, cast to your knees as you worked on his hard cock with your heavenly mouth, your mind had slithered away from the laws that you were supposed to obey as you fingered yourself against and without his jurisdiction. To retain from speaking out just yet Seb put the pressure of his front teeth down upon his bottom lip, as he tuned his ears on the sounds of your mouth i taking his cock and slathering it with the natural lubricant of your saliva, and if he paid enough attention, the sound of your nimble fingers darting in and out of your entrance was echoed through the slick that was provided from your hormonal body, that coated your fingers and glistened underneath the lighting.

As he felt a spark approaching through the intermissions of his pleasured body, he found it to be best to direct you away, and exhibit distance despite having forgone with that flow for the time space that you hadn’t seen each other in. And thus he gently stepped back, allowing his cock to fall past your lips and a string of spit to be the only thing connecting you to it. It was an instinct for you to whine as you watched him take his cock back into his hand, giving himself a couple of easing tugs to cool himself down from his ruined orgasm.

And that was when all prevailed in realisation for you, that he continued to ogle at you from above as your index and middle fingers on your right hand remained inside of your cunt, and as your mind sparked some sense back into it, you instantly removed them despite the emptiness that attained within that area. Your eyes remained wide as you watched with caution as Seb took it upon himself to take a seat on the sofa that was below the blind strung window of his trailer, his hand temptingly patting his thick thighs as a means to convince you to move closer.

“Get up here you deviant minx.” It was not a sweet gesture that he were offering you, no, instead you were getting punished despite evading such a fate earlier on. Pushing yourself up from your knees, you went to lay yourself against him homely lap, however as you went to do so, he tugged at the sweatshirt that compiled a flush of heat against your addictive body, pulling it up a few inches to send you the message. Once you had completely removed the appeared and were dressed to the eye in nothing more than your naked flesh, that was when Sebastian allowed you to continue laying your stomach across his legs, as your own legs and breasts were draped either side of them.

His rough fingertips caressed the muscles of your back, making them twitch from rugged anticipation. They descended lower as he dug his knee into your ribs, enjoying the way that your breath hitched. “You know the rules angel, you don’t touch without permission, and yet you did. Do you have anything to say for yourself before I bruise this beautiful ass red and blue?” The worst thing was you could imagine how your cheeks would look all bruised up from the harsh strokes from his commanding hands; it had happened before and each and every time you’d tell yourself that it’d never happen again, that you’d avoid such intimate brutality because you’d behave.

But you both knew better than to trust those empty promises that wailed from your desperate throat as you were subjected to a pain that made your mind hazy and your throat parched. “No daddy, just that I’m sorry.” A yelp quickly followed after as he collided his hand down upon the fat of your behind, your entire body jolting as you shakily inhaled, knowing that in a few minutes that you’d get used to the pain and find it less surprising. The first strike was always the worst, and as another clapped down, followed by more and more, tears reigned the paving of your face as they spilt down your cheeks.

Your apology was simply a waver in the air, it did nothing other than tell him something that he’d heard a million times by this point. And when nothing added to the soreness of your bosom, you swore that you were in heaven, it continued to sting though as relief washed over your aura, and your lashes flickered through the fallen tears, slowly drying from the sobbing that they had commenced. “You took that well, okay.” Seb breathed, beginning to softly stroke your ass which made you whimper from the feather light pressure that digressed against the impact he had prohibited you to dwindle in. “I’m gonna reward you, think you can turn over baby?”

He slipped out from beneath you, allowing you to remain on your stomach for the moment until you had finally came up with your decision. You wriggled a little, stretching your toes as you hummed in reply and switched, despite the searing conundrum that resorted favour over your backside, onto the polar of your position, only to find your lover of whom was in control crawling towards you, the rings around his eyes looking sinful as he stared at your naked body as though you were his prey. His hands began to reel up your legs, coercing you into squirming against the cushioning that was managing to keep you at the same physical level as him, though the same couldn’t be said for the mental premise that rendered in interference of your relationship.

Hot air brushed upon your mound as he pressed a kiss to the hill that lead to the lake that was fawning at his close proximity, waves crashing and glistening to appeal to his ocean eyes. “Daddy, can you please do something?” A grunt differed from his throat as he inhaled the sea salt that subordinated his nose to the all natural scent, all before he nipped at the inside of your thigh before delving his face between the tightened proximity, sealing his mouth around your sensitive bud as he mumbled moans against your reactive flesh, earning himself a deeper invasion as you rutted your hips up to his face.

Sebastian Stan was a man of many talents; he could clearly mimic anyone that a script needed him to, but the one thing that he was truly magical at was using his mouth. It was a skill set that made you mercilessly comply to him, it was his superpower, which was indeed ironic considering that he played a hero in one of the world’s biggest franchises known to cinema. He raised his hands to grasp at your own as he trailed them into his strongly pigmented hair, giving you permission to ravel your hands through his straight hair, and feel the smooth sheen against the judge of your skin. You liked it, as you knew that you would.

Using his tongue, he pried at your entrance, sinking it within you as he began to shake his unruly head, extracting small screams from your throat as you became victim to his plentiful evidence of love. Your chest raised out in the air as your eyes rolled back, and a tweak pulled at your clit once more, and looking down, it revealed that it were your beloved tugging at the button with his teeth, as he gouged your reaction. When you reached your orgasm, he dived head first back into your emptying cavern, cleansing all that he had subdued from your body via his amazingly versed and performed sentiment.

“Taste so fucking good baby.” To prove his point, he clambered above you, slipping his lips against your own as he swabbed your tongue with his own, sharing your own juices so that you could feel them balance on your taste buds. His hand ran down your body as he pinched your hardened nipples, earning himself a withered and high pitched sigh from your mouth as he pulled away from the kiss. “Think you for another one in you angel? Daddy wants to fuck this sweet pussy, you okay with that?” A dazed nod gave him permission, though he grasped your jaw with his strong hand as he ensured that you stared back at him. “I need to hear you.”

“Yes, want your cock in me daddy. Always do.” A content smile used your mouth as it’s efficient puppet as he held onto his cock, and teased it around your folds, wetting his foreskin and other areas to make it more pleasurable for the both of you when he went to push in. And when he did, you felt like you had died and gone to heaven, it made you wonder how you ever survived going months without his touch, in any which way. Your hands held onto his hips as you steadied his weight, silently giving him the okay to start moving, and he did, he sunk within your cavernous walls, only to pull back and repeat the action. “Seb.” You breathed the shortened version of his name, the hot air leaving your mouth hitting his shoulder as he panted beside your face, his nose dragging up your cheek as you ran your hand down, cupping his balls and stroking them with the tender contact of your thumb.

For once under these circumstances, he did not shun you for saying his true name, instead he was too busy with the maddening rush that flew through his body as he fornicated with you. His pace increased, provoking the sound of flesh slapping upon flesh in the air as your thighs and hips clashed, amongst other parts. “Fuck sugar, ya close?” He asked you hurriedly, his forehead scrunching up as he felt immense pleasure as your cunt clenched around him, using his leverage to play with your clit once more. You ravenously nodded your head, dragging your nails over his body as you tried to jut your body up against his, chasing the approaching high which ultimately had you slumping against the cushions as he continued to pummel your body with his delivering thrusts.

“Shit.” He almost shouted, a soothing buzz ongoing in his body as he released his seed within you, you being able to feel every drop even after he pulled out and rolled to lay beside you, tugging you to be laying on his chest, neither of you caring for the cum that was escaping from your entrance that also happened to be the exit. “Why you laughing at me angel face?” Sebastian queried as he heard your cheeky sounds of amusement, a grin ruining the formation of his rocker disguise.

“You’re eyeliner’s all smudged.” You laughed, running the pad of your thumb beneath his eye and in the crows feet that dipped below, blending it further into his skin and giving it a grey hue to its ebony gradient. “You still look hot though.” You shrugged, nestling your head deeper into his chest, finally relieved that you and Sebastian were in the same place at the same time again.

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ive-tumbled-down-a-rabbit-hole · 3 years

Text

Pix, where's your couch?

Some fluff to counter all the angst I've read in the last 24hrs. (Silly move as made myself cry - too many talented writers out there breaking my heart). Or at least if not fluff no angst.

Probably more a teen and up fic than general but still fairly clean (I think... I rubbish at knowing what ratings etc really).

Masterlist

...............................................

Jason stared at the space in the middle of the room.

“Pix, where’s your couch?”

“Hmmm, Jay?”

“I know you said that I could crash at your place again, so, umm, where’s the couch?”

“Oh, It had one to many blood stains so I got rid of it. You always said it was like sleeping on rocks anyway, so I’ve ordered a new one. It’s arriving next week.”

Marinette beamed up at Jason, bouncing on her toes with excitement while she grabbed his hand.

“It’s so pretty, Jay. I’m so happy that I finally could get rid of the old one and get a new beautiful comfy amazing sofa. You should see the pattern on the material. Oh oh and the detail on the frame. Hang on! I'll see if I can find a picture… you have to see it."

Marinette suddenly dropped his hand in favour of dashing about her apartment hunting for the picture as Jason's eyes darted between the chaotic woman and the space where the couch should be. Yes he'd asked to crash at her place in the past and always moaned that the couch was the worst thing to sleep on ever, but it was better than having to be near his family when he wanted to hide. Aaand he also might have come round earlier in the week before heading back to the cave to get some wounds seen to for an easier journey… but still had he really left the couch in such a state she decided to finally listen to his advice and get a new one?

"Pix, that's great and all but umm, where am I going to sleep?"

"In my bed, silly. It's the only other place."

Jason groaned and dragged his hand down his face. He knew what was going to happen next.

"Pix, darling, sweetheart, where are you going to sleep? You can't work all night which I know you love doing. You need to rest too. Look, I'll just call Roy up again and see if I can crash at one of his safe houses. Bruce is less likely to know about those."

"Jay, I'll just sleep next to you. The bed's big enough for the both of us. It'll be fine so you don't need to call Roy."

"What?!"

"It'll be fine. We can share the bed for the night. Now go dump your stuff in my room and I'll make us some dinner."

Jason grimaced as he knew there was no escaping. Roy, the arsehole, would tease him mercilessly if he didn't stay, and if he went he'd hurt Marinette's feelings as she'd offered up her home, her bed, for him to hide.

…………

"Jay, you're as stiff as a dead body. This is meant to be relaxing. If you don't want to watch this film we can sit on my dining room chairs and watch the TV out there. Or I can find some cards so we can play games at the table?"

"Nope, this is fine, Pix."

"Really? Then relax. You don't need to be so tense."

Jason took a deep breath and slowly let it out and forced himself to loosen his muscles and sink into the comfort of Marinette's bed. Apparently, due to having no seating in her living room, she'd taken to watching stuff on her laptop in bed if she wasn't working. Now the pair were both sitting on her bed watching some film she'd selected. Suddenly she trilled next to him.

"Ooo I know what will help. I bought some decent wine back from France with me after visiting my parents. I'll go get it. It's much nicer than the stuff I've found here. You'll love it Jay. It's the perfect thing to help us destress from the week."

Before Jason could respond she'd danced out the room, giggling to herself about her 'great' idea.

Jason swore to himself. He could do this. It wasn't a big deal. He could control himself. He could sit 'very' close and sleep next to his crush. It was only a crush. Not love. In her bed. It won't be that hard. He just needed to keep his cool. He ran a hand through his hair, trying to figure out a strategy to survive the night.

Before he had mentally formalised his survival plan Marinette burst back into the room, glasses and wine in hand, only to trip on her bedroom rug and crash face first into his lap. Miraculously saving the wine and glasses. Jason carefully removed them from her grasp as she turned to peer up at him wide eyed, face dangerously close to where it currently shouldn't be for his sanity.

"Oops. I keep doing that. I really should move that rug. Sorry Jay."

Jason let out an inaudible whine and closed his eyes slowly counting to 10. This was going to be as hard as he originally thought it was going to be.

"S'okay, Pix. Just get up so we can have the wine and watch the film."

Awkwardly smiling at Jason, Marinette detangled her legs and climbed over him to get settled next to him again. Carefully she took the wine bottle off him to open and poured some into the glasses he held out for her. After putting the bottle on her bedside table, she turned her attention back to Jason and the film.

"Now we can relax properly. Guessing you're not ready to vent about Bruce yet."

"Nah, not really. You're making an effort to cheer me up and distract me so don't want to bring the evening down. And don't look at me like that! This is perfect Pix, a much better way to relax. If I wanted to vent I'd go punch and shoot scum. Do *you* want to vent about your latest commission though?"

She looked guiltily at him, "Do you mind?"

Jason looked softly at her and smiled, "Go ahead Pix."

Suddenly it was like a dam had opened and she was telling him about the ridiculous demands expected of her. The issues with the material. How her sewing machine was not playing ball and likely needed a service or replacement part soon.

Jason gazed fondly at his friend (crush) nattering animatedly away. With wine in hand he relished the soft warmth of the room. She was right about the wine helping to relax, the film long forgotten as they chatted away enjoying the safe space she had created under the glow of the fairy lights.

It was only when the film had stopped that they were drawn out of their discussions.

"Oh! We kinda missed that film huh?"

"Yup, Pix we did. And we've finished that bottle as well."

"I'll set another film up, did you want to change and do your ablutions while I set it up."

"Change?" Jason squawked out.

Marinette turned to glare at him. "Yeah, change. You're not sleeping in my bed in jeans Jay. So go change. I'll sort myself in a minute too."

Jason reluctantly left to go to the bathroom and quickly changed. After cleaning his teeth he splashed cold water in his face. He had managed so far. He'd resisted brushing her hair out her face. He'd resisted pulling her close as she leant on his shoulder as she laughed. He resisted kissing her when she pouted when telling her story.

He could do this.

As he returned Marinette slipped out telling him to sort the bed out for them to lie down for the next film. The stars had long since come out and Jason begrudgingly agreed that there was a high chance that they 'could' fall asleep in the next one. (Okay, it was a low chance given his nightly antics and her insomnia but he'd play along with her belief.)

Jason had settled, still sitting in the bed but under covers this time as Marinette re-emerged.

She was trying to kill him.

He had played nice wearing a vest and joggers. She, Marinette, had dressed to kill in just an oversized T-Shirt that hung off her shoulder and brushed the tops of her thighs.

Jason squeezed his hands into fists as she carefully this time manoeuvred around the room, showing off her long legs. Apparently she had a late growth spurt and finally took more after her father than her mother now. Breaking his gaze from her legs as she moved round the other side of the bed he sent her a tight smile as she climbed in next to him.

"You all set for the next film?"

"mm hmm"

As she lent forward to press play, Jason darted his eyes to the ceiling. Marinette turned around to see Jason staring up and laughed.

"Jay, that's sweet and all but I do have sleep shorts on. You'd not see my underwear. Plus you're my friend. I trust you."

"You couldn't have warned me!"

"Nah, seeing your reaction was funny. Now shhh film time."

Sitting back, Marinette grabbed a blanket and wrapped it around her shoulders and smoothed the duvet down before resting her head against Jason's shoulder snuggling into his arm. She smiled and sighed in contentment as she lost herself in the film.

Jason's blue screened for a moment as his friend cuddled into his arm. He knew she often did this on the couch but still having her do this in bed, in her pajamas, was another matter. He should have been better prepared. He had thought his mission earlier was a challenge. It had now reached monumental difficulty. Feeling her warm breath dance across his arm. Clear smell of her fading perfume. Hearing her slight murmurs to herself as she focused on the plot playing out before them. It took a ridiculous amount of his strength to remain relaxed and try to focus on the film.

He almost lost it as Marinette drowsily started to slowly stroke the bare skin of his arm.

"Come on Pix, let's lay down. You're hardly awake currently. I'll turn the film off for us."

".. mmm.. no... I'm.. I'm awake..you're so hot… *yawn* nice and safe... and toasty… I .. I can..*yawwwwn* fin..esh fim.."

Jason choked when said she was hot until he realised that she meant he was warm. Carefully he extracted his arm from her octopus grip and got her lying down, before turning the film off. He left one set of fairy lights on as knew Mariette disliked sleeping in the dark.

Taking a moment to steal himself, Jason watched as Marinette buried herself deeper into the blankets and duvet. He had checked whether it'd be ok to top and tail the bed earlier, Marinette's glare at the suggestion and the insults about his 'big stinking smelly gross' feet being near her face pushed that option out the window pretty quickly. Especially with some of the creative insults thrown in as well.

Despite all his nerves feeling like they were on fire, Jason slowly crawled back in the bed to settle. The soft lighting, the quiet sound of Marinette breathing, the warmth embracing him, Jason suddenly felt all his energy escape. Forcing himself to relax was tiring. Holding himself back was exhausting. The week had been draining. Surprisingly quickly Jason succumbed to sleep.

…………

Jason woke to light filtering into the room. He felt unusually well rested and content. A warm fuzzy happy feeling that he'd not felt in such a long time flowed through him. Sighing he went to turn only to find that he couldn't move.

Sluggish memories and realisations started to speed up and come to the forefront of his mind. That he was sleeping in Marinette's bed. Next…. Under!?!?! Marinette.

It appeared that Marinette had somehow in the night starfished face down across the bed and now her face was resting across his chest. Her hair was a bird's nest of tangles cascading down to his arm. One hand had a razor clam of a grip on the bottom of his shirt unwilling to let go. One leg was tangled up with his.

It would have been a surprise and embarrassing if he hadn't witnessed putting Marinette to bed as a tiny curled up ball to discover her in the morning sprawled out across the bed in a similar fashion to this. Except this time he was semi pinned down by her. He would say the only embarrassment was that he'd forgotten she got like this. And no other reason at all.

As Marinette still slept, Jason's brain slowly woke more and more. He took on his sleeping friend and admired the peace that was on her face. The lack of stress that graced her features. She was gorgeous normally but at this moment she looked ethereal. Jason basked in the morning warmth slowly threading his fingers through her hair to detangle the large knots. He could get used to this. Too used to this. The comfort. The simplicity. The domestic-ness of it all.

Lost in his own thoughts he didn't notice Marinette stir and blearily looked at him with one eye open.

"Mor'n Jay," a croaked voice drew his attention back to his friend lying across his chest, "Di'ja sleep k?"

"Yeah, Pix," came his soft reply, "best night sleep in a while. I understand why you had the lumpy stone of a couch now. You spent all your cash on this cloud of a bed. How did you sleep?"

She turned her face completely into his chest and he felt her chuckle against him before shifting herself so she was now lying curled up next to him, her face closer to his as she rested against his shoulder.

"Best in ages. No nightmares. At all. Never get nightmares when next to you. You make the cloud bed perfect, Should get you to stay in it forever."

Jason turned to gawk at the woman whose eyes remained closed as curled up against him, "Pix, you can't just say things like that!"

"What? Wha'ja mean? What did I say?"

"Saying that I made your bed perfect. That you want me to stay here forever. It gives the whole wrong impression."

"But I meant it, Jay. Last night I slept all the way through because of you. I love being with you. So why wouldn't I want you around?"

Slowly opening her eyes Marinette leant forward and up to kiss his chin before giggling as she moved away.

"Pix, you're killing me here."

"With what weapon? We're in bed and your weapons are next to you, not me…. And why would I kill you?"

Twisting so he could face her properly, Jason gazed as his semi drowsy friend in soft whispered tones said.

“By making it hard not to ruin our friendship. I love what we have now and I don’t want to lose it.”

“What do you mean? You won’t ruin our friendship. We’ve been through too much for it to be ruined.”

“By doing something stupid.”

“Stupid?”

Her eyes widened as she looked at him in puzzlement, more awake than moments earlier. She pursed her lips trying to figure out what he was trying to say was stupid, unconciously drifting closer to him.

“Yeah, something really stupid.”

“Oh… the only thing really to ruin our friendship would be to leave or betray me… you’re not going to be that stupid are you?”

“No, I don’t want to leave you. Ever really. Being like this is perfect. I… I love being with you… you’re my best friend, just don’t tell Roy that.”

Marinetre softly smiling at Jason, “Ok. I won’t. This is almost perfect, but… did you know what would make it better?”

With their foreheads now touching, in the warmth of the blankets and duvets and filtered light pouring in the window, Jason shook his head. He couldn't figure out what she meant to be better. The moment felt like a perfect dream to him.

"No. What would make this better?"

"If you kissed me."

It took a few seconds for Jason's brain to process the words before it was like the dam had burst, all the restraint he'd used in the last 12 hours, for the last number of months, collapsed. Jason leant forward capturing Marinette's lips with his own.

One of her hands reached up and tangled into his hair as the other rested on his chest. His wrapped around her waist pulling her closer. They lost themselves in the moment as they deepened the kiss while pouring their emotions into it, showing their feelings they have been too afraid to say out loud.

Eventually, they parted breathing heavily. Marinette gave a breathy chuckle.

"Finally."

"Huh?"

"It only took you the whole night, then to be told to do that."

"What?!"

Jason's brain struggled to work out what Marinette was saying. His current focus was more on the sensation of holding Marinette so close. His lips still tingled from her kissing her. It was only because her hand moved to cradle his cheek and she kissed his nose that his attention was drawn back to her.

"Jay, you sweet Doofus, I've been flirting with you for months. You've not noticed what's so ever so drastic measures needed to be taken."

"You've been flirting with me???"

"Yes. Even Roy noticed, he helped me with this."

"You mean this was planned?!?"

"Yup. Completely planned. And Roy even helped me get rid of the couch."

"You planned a 'there's only one bed' situation? Sneaky Pix, that's sneaky."

"Worked didn't it. Plus you love the cliche troupes. Don't deny it."

Jason leaned in close to Marinette, a breath away from her.

"Can't deny it, but we've got months of idiocy to catch up on."

With that Marinette closed the gap to capture his lips. They had the rest of the day to work out and discuss how they felt, right now, right now was for kissing and cuddling in bed. Who knew all that together she just needed to replace her couch.

#maribat #maribat au #dc x mlb #ml x dc #dc x ml #mlb x dc #jason x marinette #marinette x jason #jasonette #one bed #fluff writing

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lucy90712 · 3 years

Text

cravings/mood swings (pregnancy series)

Series masterlist

George:

The hormones from pregnancy have made me an entirely different person at times which was a huge shock to both me and George when they first started to hit because I've always been pretty good with my emotions and hormones even when on my period. To me it isn't as bad because I only notice after my mood swings but poor George has to deal with me during.

George came down the stairs after filming a video and came to join me sat on the sofa. I was eating salty crisps (chips) some of which George stole as he sat down, this really set off my hormones for whatever reason and I looked at him with just pure anger that he would even dare to steal my food that I had been craving.

"George what the fuck I wanted those" I almost shouted

"I'm sorry love I didn't mean to I can get you more if you want them" he said panicked slightly

I gave no reaction to what George said as I came down from my rage because I realised I was being way too over the top. I always feel awful when I yell at George because he doesn't deserve it at all but he just happens to be around all the time so he's the one who bares the brunt of all my emotions. I apologised to George and gave him some of my crisps to make up for it and we cuddled on the sofa for a bit.

Later in the evening George was showing me cute videos he has of cat from when he was in his office which were just so adorable and made me so incredibly happy but then the sadness came over and tears started to fall down my face.

"Hey what's wrong?" George asked

"It's just so cute like how can one small animal be so cute" I sobbed

He comforted me and we spent the rest of the evening doing things that didn't provoke any emotions in me.

Dream:

My cravings have been very strong though my pregnancy so far which is a combination of normal things and weird concoctions just whatever I was feeling in that exact moment and I mean that exact moment. My cravings are things that have to be satisfied within the hour or else it's too late and I get over it.

It's about 10pm and I'm just chilling waiting for Clay to get out the shower so we can watch the office together. At that exact moment a craving for pickles came over me, its not a craving I've had before but its one that I know is kind of common. I checked all the cupboards and fridge to see if we had any but we didn't which made me quite sad.

Clay came down the stairs to see me staring at the empty cupboard with a few tears in my eyes. He came over to me looking at what I was before becoming very confused at what exactly was going through my mind clearly wondering if I was going a bit insane.

"Is everything alright?" He asked

"We don't have any pickles" I whined

"Do you want me to go and get you some?" He asked

I nodded my head and we went to the car to drive to the store to go buy pickles mainly because I didn't want to be left alone. Clay actually went into the store while I stayed in the car because he didn't want me getting cold but he soon came back with two jars of pickles just incase I wanted more another day.

Back at home I ate half the pickles in the jar and very much enjoyed it and so did baby which was the whole point of going to get them. I imagine just like every other craving I will get over it and move on to a new one.

Sapnap:

My mood swings have been insane so far during pregnancy like way morse than they would be before my period is due to arrive. I feel so awful that Sapnap has to deal with me because he used to hate it when I got so very emotional before my period and now its constant and like x1000.

I have been slightly more emotional than usual today which has just been ruining my day because I can't seem to get anything done without crying or raging at myself but I've yet to spend much time with Sapnap so he has been spared from my disastrous day so far. This soon changed when he came downstairs and sat with me on the sofa.

He attempted to cuddle with me but something in my brain told me that I didn't want that and I should be mad at him for even trying to be affectionate even though I love him so very much.

"No get off me" I said a bit too harshly

"Oh I'm sorry baby is there anything you want?" He asked trying to be accommodating

I shrugged him off still slightly angry but getting over it very quickly and feeling bad for half yelling at him. My anger soon completely dissolved and was replaced by sadness at the fact that I had yelled and now wanted to cuddle but he wasn't going to want to now right, I mean I've just yelled at him so why would he want to cuddle.

A few tears started to form in my eyes and soon spilled out onto my face wetting my cheeks which I tired to hide by facing away from Sapnap but of course he knows me and tried to see what I was hiding. As soon as he saw I was crying he put his hands on my face to wipe the tears and gave me a kiss.

"What's wrong babe? How can I fix it?" He asked

"I feel bad for yelling and I want cuddles but you don't want to give them to me because I was mean" I explained

"You are so silly of course I'll still give you cuddles if you want them" he said

He pulled me into a big bear hug where we stayed for the rest of the day and night.

Quackity:

I have been having a lot of odd cravings over the past few weeks most of which are completely unnatural and Alex thinks are gross but they actually taste really good. To me at least.

Tonight I was really feeling like eating chicken nuggets with honey, I really wanted to eat it but I was scared to ask Alex to come to the store with me because he would think it was weird and judge me which my fragile little heart couldn't take.

"Alex will you go to the store with me please?" I asked

"Of course love what do you want this time?" He asked

"Chicken nuggets and honey" I whispered

"What was that" he questioned

"Chicken nuggets and honey" I said a bit louder

"That sounds interesting lets go" he said

He grabbed my hand and pulled me up and to the car where we went to McDonald's for the chicken nuggets and then target for the honey before going back home. Alex was interested to try this combination too so the both of us sat down to try it. At first the flavour was really weird but once you got used to it it was really good actually and now I think I'm obsessed and by the looks of things so is Alex because his face looked like he had just had the best thing ever.

Karl:

Oh my has it been a rollercoaster so far, I've been so over emotional and have been craving so many different things it is so hard to keep up with for me let alone Karl.

This morning I was trying to make breakfast and I couldn't open the milk which upset me but then the bowls were up too high so I couldn't reach which made me even more upset but the last straw for this morning was when I had just sat down after struggling with everything and someone rang the doorbell just as I was about to eat the cereal I had really been wanting. I answered the door to collect the parcel the man had before going back to the living room with tears starting to slip down my face.

I'm not sure why I was so upset but I was which stopped me eating my cereal because I was crying which made me cry more because I really wanted the cereal, it was just an awful cycle. Karl walked in as I was staring at my full bowl of cereal sobbing which caused him to run over to see what was wrong.

"Hey hey whats wrong?" He asked

"Nothing is going right and all I want to do is eat my cereal but I can't because I'm crying which is making me more upset" I ranted

"Oh honey I'm sorry how about you follow my breathing to calm down and then eat your cereal ok?" He suggested

He helped me calm down enough to be able to eat my cereal which was kind of soggy by now but I still very much enjoyed it and soon got back to my normal self.

Wilbur:

My hormones are all over the place which normally I can handle but every now and then I get too overly emotional and just cry over random things, this usually happens when I'm alone so I just deal with it myself.

Today Wilbur took the day off from working so he's here to see the rollercoaster that is my day and believe me it can be a rollercoaster. I had a breakdown this morning when doing chores I was unloading the dishwasher and I kept almost dropping everything I touched which made me so mad at myself and really sad at the same time. I just left the room and sat down for a minute talking to myself to sort my brain out then went back to doing chores.

Later in the afternoon we were watching a nature documentary which we do a lot and there was this lizard and her babies that were being hunted by a large bird, I was willing them to get away but the bird caught the babies and the mother got away. This made me so sad that the lizard lost her babies while I was sat there carrying my baby. I started crying thinking about the fact that anything could happen to little bean once their here.

"It's ok love its just natures way" Wilbur said

"But what if bad things happen to bean when their here obviously not like that but anything could happen" I sniffled

"We will protect bean as best we can to stop anything bad happening but for now their safe where they are" Wilbur said

This made me feel better and luckily the rest of the documentary wasn't sad at all and there was some cute moments which made me forget about all my worries.

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bubblyhoney · 3 years

Note

sarah i have thought of another fic request or like a cute idea i guess! i didn’t have anyone in mind when i thought of it so you can write it for whoever you want honestly :)

okay so the reader is a streamer but streams games like animal crossing, standew valley, etc. then (insert who you’re writing for) says they don’t like that game, but later ends up buying it and the reader is like “i thought you said you didn’t like this game” and they’re like “well i like you” and they confuses their feelings and they end up playing the game together and reader gives them a tour of their island or farm

i feel like this request isn’t good, but the scenario seemed cute and i wanted to share it. sorry if this is confusing or just too specific cuz i know it can be hard to write requests like that! but yeah i hope it gives you inspiration and you like the request <3

new horizons

warnings: language, a Marvel reference (hint: natasha said it about tony), stupid idiots who don’t realize they like each other, use of pet names, Uno rage, Hasan Piker's presence

words: 1473

tags: sapnap x gn!reader

A/N: i’ve been trying to catch up a little on my requests (i’ve only got a couple so i’m not super overwhelmed) but school and outside life has been taking up most of my time so this one took me a while to make! tbh— ive never played animal crossing so i did google some of the game mechanics and i apologize if anything is inaccurate about the game…. but i liked relaxing and writing this cute one so thank you for requesting hails :3

requests/inbox status: open

“This game is trash.”

Your head quirks, fingers stopped on the screen. You’re in the process of giving your character a cute new nickname; it’s kind of hard to decide between “awkward dude” and “elderly skater”.

“Excuse me?” Your chat comes alive with emotes and ‘KEKW’s, obviously entertained by you and your almost-more-than-friends-friend.

There’s a story for that later.

Sapnap’s rough laugh comes through your headset and he audibly swallows, the sound of a water bottle dropping onto his desk echoing.

“I’m just saying—it’s boring. It’s like Minecraft but you don’t like… do anything.” The grainy image of his bearded face shifts and you see him pull out his phone.

“It’s— you can’t even compare it to Minecraft! It’s a completely different game system—you actually interact with other people live in the game.” You huff out a dramatic sigh, slumping in your chair with a pout. “Just because you go into this lucid state where all you know is ‘touch block, hit George’ doesn’t mean this game isn’t fun.” (He scoffs at your awful impression of his voice. Your viewers love it.)

“Jeez,” he mumbles, fumbling with the cap of his water bottle. “Touched a nerve there, bud.”

You roll your eyes, getting back to the village in the game.

“Don't ‘bud’ me.”

The call falls comfortably quiet, the sounds of him tapping obsessively on his phone and you clicking away filling the silence. A gentle bedroom-pop YouTube playlist remains in the background, prompting you to hum along and glance at the chat to see a flood of “check twitter” and “Y/N TWITTER!!”.

“What happened on Twitter?” You mumble, confused, and pull the website up on another monitor. Sapnap just makes a curious noise, swinging back and forth in a circle. “Oh my God,” you say to yourself, fingertips brushing your parted lips.

“What?”

“Hasan Piker just followed me and retweeted one of my not even remotely political old tweets. Like from a year ago.”

“That’s— wow. Congrats?” Sapnap’s voice cracks, and his ears flush pink the tiniest bit when you glance at his face on Discord.

“I’m gonna go on record and say that he could get it.” You shake your head in disbelief.

Sapnap falls uncharacteristically non-hyper-verbal, so you look past the frenzied chat and to his screen— wait. He muted and turned his camera off.

“Um,” you start, furiously typing question marks in your private chat. “Where’d you go?” You mute and turn screen share off for your stream, concerned that he might’ve fallen off his chair and broken his neck and needs you to call the ambulance.

The characteristic ding of a twitter notification sounds through your bedroom, and you look at your phone quickly.

“That’s where I went.”

Sapnap Tweeted: “all Y/U stans can choke on my dick”.

“Jesus, Sapnap,” you say, and rapidly refresh to read the replies. This tweet was deleted. “That’s so— that barely makes sense, bro. Why— literally what?”

His snicker floods your ears and you relax in your chair. Crisis: averted. “Don’t fucking— what’s wrong with you?”

“I thought it would be funny,” he offers, shrugging, and fiddles with the straw in his water bottle, smile fading. “And also Hasan pisses me off.”

“Why, ‘cause he wants a piece of this? Jealous?” You think back to your viewers, knowing they’re probably spamming question marks and coming to ludacris conclusions about both of your absences. No offense to them. You remember your stan days very vividly.

“I mean, kinda.” He rubs once at his nose, glancing at the camera (and what feels like you) before taking a sip from his water bottle.

“Wow.” You watch one strand of his hair fall from beneath his hat and brush against his full eyebrows. “I’m uh—I’ll get back to my stream. You coming? Or is it time for a Sapnap-snack?”

“What the hell is that supposed to mean?” He snorts and leans his chin onto the balance of his arm.

“That means you like to take a little snack break mid-stream and come back approximately nine hours later and you didn’t even eat.”

“You know what— fuck you.” He flicks the camera as you laugh at the look on his face.

The teasing mood is easily kept as you switch games from Animal Crossing to Uno, all the while slamming Sapnap with +4’s and skipping the newly-arrived BadBoyHalo at any chance you can get. It unironically pisses him off and he has to take a Sapnap-snack break midway through (only a fifteen minute break this time, during which you and Bad take a “What Kind of Bread Are You?” quiz). The rest of the night is filled with devious cackles (you), loud and sudden bangs that sound suspiciously like someone hitting their desk in anger (Sap) and the stupid barking of Rat, AKA Lucy (Bad). She’s cute but a menace to the sound quality of Bad’s microphone. You sign off stream around 2 a.m. with various forms of thanks and kisses blown to the camera. It’s been a refreshing night, actually; you’ve been busy organizing a partnership stream all week and all your friends have been busy filming or editing or what-not. Quackity had time for a little Roblox every couple of days, though. He’s got your back.

The next time you see Sapnap is after a two hour stream of him try-harding in Valorant and you finishing responding to an email from your partnership in the VC.

“Okay, I’m back.” You hear him shift in his chair and click a couple more times on his keyboard. You perk up in your chair, closing the email browser you’d been looking at.

“Do you want to play anything else? I’m down for anything.”

“Absolutely not Uno. You can go to hell for giving me 6 cards that one time,” he jabs. You scoff, crossing your arms and leaning back in your chair.

“Okay, the +4 was on me but it’s Bad who gave you the last two. That’s not my fault, sweetie.”

“Yeah, yeah,” he mumbles, trailing off as the clicking of his keyboard stops. “Hey, um—Guess what?”

Your heart beats loud in your ears at the tone of his voice. He sounds nervous; that’s never good.

“I’m scared to guess,” you try, playing with a little Minecraft dog figurine you have on your desk with fidgety fingers. “What?”

“I bought Animal Crossing.”

Silence. You stare at his discord icon blankly, trying to reroute the wires of your brain.

“Tell me you love it.”

“Well… I haven’t actually played it— but you said you liked it, so.”

“So,” you repeat him, ears warming but continuing on. “Is that what you tell all your friends when you buy something they like? That it's because of them?”

He seems to choose his next words carefully, pausing a beat to consider your questions.

“Well, I don’t have a crush on all of my friends.”

“You—what?” You stutter, caught off guard and stumbling. What did he just say? “Don’t tell me you mean you have a crush on me.”

“I’m almost positive I just did.” His discord icon stares right back at you, taunting.

“You know, you’re very casual for someone who just admitted they like-like me.” Your cheeks flush pink and you have to press a hand to your chest to keep your breathing sounding stable.

“Yeah, I’m kind of cool like that,” he offers, a huff of a laugh punctuating his statement. The conversation moves into a lull that you can’t help but know is because of you. He must expect you to say something about it, right?

“You are very cool, Sapnap.” You tilt back in your chair, sucking in a breath to prepare yourself for your next words. “And—Isortakindofhaveacrushonyoutoo.”

He must understand you, for you can hear the grin in his voice when he asks “Really?”

“Y-yeah.” You feel like a preteen again, all shaky and giddy in front of the boy you just asked to a middle school dance.

“Um, alright. What do we do now?”

“I don’t know,” you answer genuinely and swing in a happy little circle in your chair. “We could play Animal Crossing.”

“I’m down.”

You swear you’ve never heard more beautiful words.

He keeps his camera off for most of the time you two play, too focused on creating his island and asking you questions about how to fish to turn it on. He silently flips it on when you help him decorate his lawn, needing to show you in real-time the decorations he has bought and where you think he should put them. He looks cute. I mean, of course he does. He always does.

You tell him goodbye late in the night, eyes saying a little more than just “see you tomorrow”.

You like him. He likes you.

It’s even better when you two have matching gardens.

A/N: anybody and everybody (especially my precious hailey) let me know what you think!! :]

#sapnap #mcyt #sapnap x gn!reader #sapnap x reader #sapnap x you #sapnap fluff #sapnap drabble #sapnap oneshot #bubblyhoneyfics #honey answers #mcyt x reader #🥚except small

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1-800-gaygentsofshield · 3 years

Text

five more minutes | n.r.

summary: Soulmates cursed to never be together, each life always longing for a love that they've never met..or so they think.

warnings: temporary character deaths, reincarnation?, violence, self-sacrifice, angst with a happy ending, implied sexual content, language

based off of Billie Eilish's cover of "the end of the fucking world" originally produced by Rob Dickinson

one life is based on the film “underwater” by William Eubank

word count: 8,344

---- = separate life

/ = a skip in time, same life

Your chest is heaving as you pry open the door to the last safe house in the city, everything turning to hell ever since the “End of the World” started happening. Smoldering flakes of ash were falling from the sky and the bombs were getting set off every few minutes, absolute mayhem engulfing the world around you. This safe house was located on the city's outskirts, technically not disaster-proof but far away enough to be human-proof from the rest of the world.

You belong to one of the major power families that run your district, your father and mother getting killed earlier this morning because of it. The y/l/n's have always been feuding with the other families in control, everyone always hungry for power and willing to do anything to let their family have it.

Stepping inside the house, your boots creak on the wood, the door slowly closing behind you. Your gun feels heavy on your waist as you cautiously take a few steps forward, listening for any signs that someone else might be in the safe house with you.

You hear another creek of the floorboards and in one swift motion, you pull out your gun, keeping your finger resting on the trigger. You move quietly to the kitchen where the noise came from, arm raised and aimed forward. Almost simultaneously, both of you sidestep and see each other, the corners of your lips twitching up as you see Natalia in all her glory. "Y/n." Natasha greets curtly and you nod your head, both of you aiming guns at one another. "Natalia." You say in the same tone before the ground shakes, rattling the house. "Running away like always?" Nat taunts and your eyes quickly scan over her features, taking in the disheveled and tired look on her face.

"You were here first." You comment and she rolls her eyes, adjusting the grip on her gun. "I'm gonna have to kill you now, huh?" She says and you quirk an eyebrow, still on edge as you watch her body language. "Do you really want to kill me? Or does your family just want to?" You ask and her eyebrows furrow, you not wanting to deal with this stupid family feud while the world is ending around you. When the redhead doesn't answer, you shake your head, a breathy laugh escaping your lips as you look at Natalia. "What happened to us, Nat? We used to be so close." You say and Nat sighs, glancing down at her gun before making eye contact with you. "Family happened Y/n. Families got greedy for power and we got dragged into it. A Romanova couldn't be associated with a y/l/n, could it?" She says and you purse your lips together, eyebrows furrowing slightly as you make a decision.

"I don't want to spend my last few moments on earth fighting you, Talia." You say as you slowly lower your gun, Natasha's shoulders relaxing slightly at the action. "What are you saying, Y/n?" Nat asks and you look at your childhood best friend with a certain desperation in your eyes. "I'm asking you to put our family feuds aside, just this once." You pause briefly before speaking. "I don't want to be alone when the world ends." You say softly and Nat contemplates your offer, only taking a few moments to make up her mind. Natalia nods her head and slowly puts the gun down, giving you a soft "okay" as she looks at you. You nod your head and echo her statement, whispering a soft "okay." before holstering your gun.

You’re sitting on the front porch as you watch the world around you fall apart, sipping on some old beer you found in the fridge. The soft opening of the front door causes your head to turn, seeing Natalia step onto the porch with a cigarette in hand.

You’ve been listening to the radio for the past hour, hearing the news cover the chaos as you sit there with the wind blowing in your face.

Natalia doesn't say anything as slowly moves to sit down beside you, wordlessly offering you a hit of her cigarette. You shake your head and hold up your beer in a similar fashion, Nat shaking her head as well. The rustling of the grass and the crackling radio are the only things heard as you both look forward, Nat placing the cigarette between her lips and you taking a swig of your beer.

Tentatively, you place your head on Natalia's shoulder, trying to see how the other woman would react. You feel Nat tense up at your action and you internally panic, thinking that you stepped over a line. Sure, you could've done that when you both were little..but now you're all grown up, times have changed. You're about to pull away when Nat wraps an arm around your waist, pulling you closer to her as she relaxes. There are no words exchanged as you lean into her side, Nat taking one last drag of her cigarette before tossing it on the ground. Crushing the nub with her boot, she makes sure it's exterminated, not wanting to start a fire (not like it matters though). You both sit there in a comfortable silence afterward, the radio droning on and on about how horrible the world is.

After a while, you decide to break the silence, still keeping your head on Nat's shoulder. "I love you, Talia." You say softly, feeling the warmth radiating off of the other woman. "What did you say?" She asks and your head turns slightly to look at her, trying to read her expression. "I love you, Talia." You repeat, lowering your head back down to her shoulder once you've made eye contact. "Always have, always will." You finish and wait for Natalia's response, wanting to see if she pulls away or not. Nat is quiet for a second before you feel her arm tightening around your waist, her head turning to kiss your temple softly. "I love you too, Y/n." She whispers, closing her eyes as she leaves her lips there. "I'm sorry that we drifted apart." Nat mumbles against your skin and you place your hand on her knee, rubbing your thumb in a small circle. "I'm sorry too." You say, planes flying overhead. "I've never hated you, you know. I just didn't want to disappoint my parents." Nat says and you nod your head, looking up at her and smiling softly. "I know Nat. I know." You say, bringing your hand up and gently brushing your fingertips along her jawline. Natalia leans into the touch and looks down at you, watching the way you look at her with such care that she hasn't seen in a while.

Your fingertips move down and you run your thumb over Nat's bottom lip, glancing into her eyes one more time before leaning up. You kiss Natalia delicately as she kisses back, eyes fluttering closed as her free hand cups your jaw.

Are you kissing her because it's the end of the world, or are you kissing her because you've been in love with your best friend ever since you were five? Either way, you're kissing her and my god her lips are soft.

You both pull away gently as you look at each other, sadness and regret in both of your eyes. Besides you, the radio continues to. crackle out the news.

...nuclear warhead..five minutes..seek shelter immediately..

Your breath catches in your throat and your heart rate speeds up, panic filling your chest as Natalia simply reaches over and shuts the radio off. “Shh hey, it’s gonna be okay.” Nat whispers as she pulls you closer to her chest. “I don’t want to die Talia.” You whisper as you cling onto the redhead, head burying into her neck and arms wrapping around her torso. “Five more minutes.” Nat repeats the phrase on the radio and you nod your head, taking in her scent. “Five more minutes.” You echo her as she hugs you tighter, both of you knowing that there isn’t enough time to escape. You’ve spent your whole lives avoiding and hating each other, so why continue doing it now.

“I wish we had more time.” You whisper and she nods her head, tucking a strand of hair behind your ear. “Maybe in another life.” She whispers and you can only nod, sighing softly before leaning in to kiss her again.

And for those five minutes, Natalia just holds you, placing gentle kisses on your crown and repeating how much she loves you over and over again. “I’ll find you in the next life, and if not in that then in the next one after.” Nat promises and you nod your head, knowing your five minutes are about to be up. “I love you Talia.” You whisper as you close your eyes, holding onto her as tight as you possibly can. “I love you too, Y/n.” Nat whispers before resting her head on top of yours, closing her eyes as the warhead hits and a bright light surrounds the two of you.

----

"Car crash, 24 year old female, 35 year old male, falling in and out of consciousness." The radio dispatch lists off the information as the ambulance arrives at the scene, Natasha immediately jumping out of the back along with Steve. "I've got the girl, get the other car." Natasha orders and Steve nods his head, both paramedics heading separate ways. Natasha's eyes scan the scene as she sees a red car completely flipped upside down, running her way over there as she sees a bloody hand reaching out. "Please..help.." Nat hears a soft whimper as she drops down onto her knees, looking inside the car to try and assess the damage. Nat barely reacts as she sees you trapped by your seatbelt, trying to calm your breathing as blood pools on the roof of the car. "Hi my name is Natasha, I'm a paramedic and I'm here to help you." Nat introduces herself and you try and look at her, hands shaking as you grip at your cut. "Can you tell me what your name is darling?" She continues as she immediately gets to work, the car door already being ripped off in the crash. "I-I'm Y/n. Y/l/n..Y/f/n (your full name)." You say shakily, Natasha looking at your injuries. "Okay, Y/n. I'm gonna get you out of here, I just need you to keep on talking. Can you do that for me?" She asks and you nod your head, starting to talk about whatever comes to mind. "I- uhm I was born in (your home state or country), moved away from my mom and dad as soon as I could." You laugh softly at the statement before you wince, feeling Natasha put pressure on your wound. "Fuck." You hiss out and Nat whispers a soft "Sorry" before continuing. She shouldn't need to apologize, she was doing her job after all, but she had an odd desire to comfort you even when you were kinda bleeding out"It's okay.." You say before continuing, your vision focusing and unfocusing. "Uhm..I have a dog and my brother is gonna graduate in a few weeks. And I'm so fucking proud of him, I never told him how proud of him I was but I'm so fucking proud of him." You ramble and you don't notice Nat's eyes widen, seeing that if she moves you you'll bleed out within a minute. "An-And I've never found love, just fucking douchebags that I wasted my life on and now I'm gonna die without finding my person and I don't wanna die Nat..I don't wanna die." You choke out as you close your eyes, wanting this nightmare to be over already as a wave of deja vu washes over Natasha. "Hey okay look at me, look at me Y/n." Nat says as she gently cups your cheek, watching as your eyes slowly open. "Keep your eyes on me, okay? You've gotta stay conscious. You think you can do that for me?" She asks and you lean into her touch, mumbling something incomprehensible. "Can you repeat that for me, baby?" Nat asks and your head lolls down a bit, feeling lightheaded as Natasha tries to keep you awake. "Mmhm..should be easy..you're very pretty." You mumble out and Nat smiles softly, ready to get you out of the car. "Okay, my partner and I are going to move you but I want you to keep your eyes on me, don't look anywhere else." She says as Steve comes over to the two of you, already taking care of the male in the other car. "Severe lacerations to her torso and blunt force trauma to her temple. Seatbelt's keeping her in place." Nat gives Steve a brief rundown and he nods his head, lowering the stretcher onto the ground as Nat secures your neck in place. "Just to be safe." She says and you hum softly, their words muffled as they move in slow motion. "Okay we're going to move you on one..two..three.." Almost as if they were in synch, Steve and Nat get you out of the vehicle, Steve getting you secured onto the stretcher while Nat tries to keep you from bleeding out. "Start talking Y/n, I need to hear you talking." Natasha says as your blood soaks through the gauze, pooling under her gloved hands. Incomprehensible mumbles fall past your lips as you try and stay conscious, your entire body feeling numb to the pain. A soft whimper of discomfort is the last thing that you say before you fall quiet, Nat looking at you concerned. "Come on baby you

need to keep on talking." Natasha encourages you gently before nodding at Steve, both of them working quickly to get you into the ambulance. "Tell my parents that I love them..and tell my shithead of a boyfriend to go to hell." You manage to get out and Nat laughs softly, helping Steve lift the stretcher into the ambulance. "Who else do you want me to tell?" She asks once she hops into the back of the ambulance with you, Steve shutting the doors and telling the driver to step on it. "Tell my brother that I'm proud of him..and tell the other driver that I don't blame him.." You start to list as the lights start to get too bright, causing you to squint to try and look at Natasha. You swallow dryly as you can feel the life draining out of you, causing you to hold your hand up to the redheaded paramedic. "Nat, can you do something for me?" You ask weakly and she nods her head, Steve taking over putting pressure on your wound. "Yeah, what is it darling?" Nat asks softly as she changes out her gloves, swapping them for a new pair before leaning down to look at you. "Can you- Can you take my ring?" You ask and confusion floods her face, Nat looking down at the simple band on your pointer finger. "I dont-" She starts but you shake your head, wincing at the pain that it caused you. "Please..I- It might just be the blood loss talking but I feel like I've met you..probably in another life or something like that." You say and wait for her reaction, seeing her stare at you for a few beats. "I know, it's crazy but-" You start but she shakes her head, grabbing onto your hand and squeezing it lightly. "No I get it. You aren't crazy." She says softly and you smile meekly at that, slowly taking off your ring and putting it in her hand. "Then keep it." You whisper and she nods her head, looking at the ring in her gloved hand. "Okay." She says and you smile, finally feeling whole for once in your life despite all the blood you've lost. The fight finally leaves your body as your eyes close, your hand falling limp against the stretcher.

"Shit she's coding." Steve hisses out and Nat's head snaps upwards, shoving the ring into her pocket as she jumps into action. Steve immediately starts compressions as Nat works on your breathing, securing the mask on your face as she pumps the bag. Steve barks out orders over the radio as Nat stands by your head, eyebrows furrowed as she watches you.

"Come on Y/n stay with me, just five more minutes to the hospital." Nat says under her breath as the ambulance races through traffic.

"Hold on for five more minutes." She continues as Steve does his compressions, trying to manually restart your heart.

"Please..just five more minutes." Nat whispers under her breath as another PMD puts a defibrillator on your chest, trying to check for a shockable pulse.

After a trail of CPR, advanced airway, and cardiotonic drugs, Steve finally makes the call.

"Call it." He says to Natasha and she shakes her head, not giving up that hope that you could still be resuscitated. "She's gone." Steve states and Nat shakes her head once again, looking at your still form. "No Steve we can't-" "Tasha she's gone. You have to call it." He says sternly and it shuts Nat up, sighing as she looks at her watch. "Time of death, 9:52 pm." She says as the other PMD covers up your body with a sheet, only a few minutes later the ambulance pulling up into the hospital.

Nat sits in the back of the open ambulance as she watches the hospital staff go by, Steve coming to sit by her. "You alright?" He asks and Nat nods her head, blinking back tears as she looks at your ring. "Yeah..Yeah I'm fine." She says before closing her hand, turning her head to look at Steve. "But she was right, I really feel like I've met her before." Nat says and Steve nods his head, putting a reassuring hand on her back. "Maybe in another life."

----

"The drill is working smoothly sir." You report to the Capitan over the intercoms, the screens showing an all-clear in front of you. "Thank you, sailor." His voice crackles over the coms and you nod your head, pressing back the button to send a reply. "Of course, sir." You say before standing up straight, checking the pressure regulation and structural integrity one last time.

It's a must to make sure everything is working smoothly down here, after all, one mistake and the entire drill could be crushed seven miles below the surface of the ocean. "Hey, sailor." Natasha's arms wrap around your waist as she hugs you from behind, moving your ponytail aside to kiss the back of your neck. "Hi baby." You say as you lean back into her touch, eyes closing as you feel Nat's lips on your neck. "Capitan gave you the all-clear?" She asks and you nod your heads, humming at the warmth of your girlfriend's embrace.

It's lonely working on a research/drilling facility seven miles down and being isolated for months at a time, but with Natasha here, it makes things a tad bit easier.

You turn in her arms before cupping the sides of her neck, kissing the redhead softly. "Free for the rest of the day." You say and Nat smiles into the kiss, pulling you closer to her by your hips. When you both pull away, she brushes her lips over yours gently. "You wanna.?" Natasha's sentence trails off with a grin and you smile at her, your fingers hooking onto her dog tags and pulling her closer. "Mm..dirty Tasha." You laugh as you tease the kiss, kissing her softly only a few times. "I don't hear you complaining." Nat grins and you only roll your eyes, glancing at the clock before looking back at your girlfriend. "Then what are you waiting for?" You ask and Nat squeezes your waist, pulling back to grab your hand and lead you to the sleeping quarters.

You pull on your Navy-issued shirt as Nat laces up her boots, both of your faces flush from fucking for the past hour. "You messed up my hair." You say to Nat as you try and fix it in the mirror, seeing your slightly swollen lips and hickeys on your neck. "You wanted me to pull it." Nat shrugs and you purse your lips together, tugging your hair back into a semi-neat ponytail. "Yeah but not that hard." You mumble and Nat comes up behind you, both of you locking eyes in the mirror. "What did you say again? Oh Nat fuck me harder..mm tug my hair, oh!" Nat mimics your moans and you shove her lightly, trying to hide the smile on your face as you act mock offended. "I do not sound like that." You say and Natasha only smiles, fixing her belt and tucking her shirt into her pants. "Whatever you say, darling." She hums before kissing your cheek, pulling out your dog tags from under your shirt. You're about to pull her in for a proper kiss when the alarms suddenly go off in the base, a loud AI announcing the warning.

Warning sructural integrity compromised, immediate evacuation advised.

"Fuck." "Shit." Both of you curse under your breath as you swing the door to the barracks open, seeing the rest of the crew rush past you. "Come on we've got to get to the escape pods." Natasha says as she grabs onto your hand, running through the crowd as loud crunches and bangs echo throughout the drill.

"They're closing off this part of the drill!" Someone yells and it makes your heart race even faster in your chest, knowing as soon as someone closes that safety hatch you're all dead.

Nat and you push through people in the crowd, water starting to pool at your feet. It's only a matter of time before this section of the drill immediately collapses, making people literally trample over one another to try and get to safety.

"Come on, come on!" Clint calls as he stands by the safety hatch, watching the people behind you get sucked up in the pressure vacuum. "Close the door! Close it!" Steve yells at Clint as he watches the base collapse, you and Nat jumping over fallen debris and dodging electrical wires. "Go, just go!" Nat pushes you in front of her as you both sprint towards the hatch, Clint pressing the button to slowly close it. Your heart is racing a million miles per minute as you see the exit in sight, Natasha pushing you forward to get through first. There's barely enough space for you to fit through, grabbing Natasha's arm and pulling her in just in the nick of time.

The heavy metal door closes just in time, the rest of the drill getting torn out into the marina trench. Your chest is heaving as you hold on to Natasha, immediately scrambling up to check on your girlfriend. You cup her face as you watch her laugh up at you, hair soaked and face a bit cut but still alive. Your worry quickly changes into anger as you shove Nat in the arm, eyebrows furrowing. "Don't you ever do that again you fucking bastard!" You seethe, taking a few deep breathes before engulfing Natasha in a hug. "Fuck..I thought I'd lost you." You mumble as you feel Nat's arms wrap around you, not caring about Steve or Clint standing to the side. "What? I'm always going to put you first Y/n." Nat says softly before you pull back, now straddling Nat's lap. "Just don't do that self-sacrificing shit on me, okay? That was terrifying." You say and she nods her head, wiping away some of the wet hair that stuck to your face.

Clint clears his throat and you both look at him, you slowly getting up and helping Natasha up as well. "So, what do we do next?" He asks and everyone looks at each other, Steve speaking up first. "Let's find a way out of this death trap."

Clint paces as you all sit in the escape pod bay, you trying to get the only remaining one working.

"Are you done yet?" He asks for the third time in five minutes and you sigh, looking at him from over your shoulder with an annoyed glare.

"I'm a Navy engineer, not a wizard, stop rushing me." You say before turning back to the pod, trying to salvage what is left of the broken device.

When the four of you arrived at the escape pods, all of them have been deployed except one, you immediately jumping in and trying to fix it. It's been about ten minutes and your hope is dwindling by the second, finally dropping your makeshift tools and running a hand over your face. "Hey it's okay, we'll find another way out." Nat says softly as she crouches down next to you, rubbing your back in a small circles as she sees how distraught you are.

"Let's make our way over to the control base, see if we can make contact with the surface." Steve breaks the silence and you all turn to face him, everyone nodding their head as you and Tasha stand up.

You all meet up with Wanda, Tony, and Vison in the control base, all three of them having unsuccessful attempts to contact the surface. While the rest of the team is discussing the next plan of action, you're by the computer reviewing the readings on the ocean floor, finding the exact time when the drill collapsed. You know it wasn't your fault, you checked all the stats earlier and the base was perfectly fine, so what set it off? Eyes bouncing along the screen, you see that the ocean censors picked up a quake exactly fifteen seconds before the base started collapsing, an odd sensation filling your chest as you realize that no one could have prevented it.

"Y/n, did you hear us?" Steve asks and your head snaps towards the group, Nat looking over at you with a concerned look in her eyes. "Pardon?" You ask and Steve explains Tony's plan, saying that they could use the pressurized suits to try and walk to the next drilling facility to use the escape pods there. "But the nearest facility is more than few a miles from here, and besides, we have no clue what we'll find on the ocean's floor." You say and Tony nods his head, sighing as he sees the map.

These suits haven't gone more than a few yards from the base, specifically being made for drill repairs and short expeditions to fix the service towers.

"Well it's the only option that we have, other than that we can just stay here and wait for the drill to collapse ontop of us." Tony says and you contemplate it for a moment, glancing over at Nat before nodding. "Okay, what other choice do we have?'

You’re all suiting up when you see that Natasha’s helmet is sitting on one of the benches, the redhead herself slipping on her suit not too far away. Walking over to the helmet, you decide that there’s no harm in checking it out, reasoning that you should be more safe than sorry in a situation like this. Your heart almost stops when you see a small crack in the glass, knowing that once she goes underwater she’s as good as dead when the pressure hits. Taking a quick glance around you, you slowly exchange Nat’s helmet for yours, taking the damaged one in your hand and heading back to where you were suiting up. It’s better me than anyone else, especially Nat. You think to yourself as you move to put the rest of your suit on, Tony calling you for help before you could do so.

Once you arrive back at the bench, you’re relieved that the helmet is still there, knowing that yours is the damaged one. “Hey baby, you ready?” Tasha asks as she walks over to you, suit still bunched up around her waist. “Mm.” You hum as you step towards her, hugging her tightly and putting your face into her shoulder. Nat is a bit taken aback but she melts into your grasp anyways, wrapping her arms around your midsection and pulling you close.

“I love you Tasha.” You whisper softly as you close your eyes, knowing that you’ll be dead as soon as you hit the water. “I love you too Y/n.” Nat says before pulling back, looking into your eyes with a bit of concern. “Why are you acting this way darling? We’re gonna make it out of this together, I promise.” Natasha says and you only nod your head, giving her a bittersweet smile as you lean up and kiss her.

“I know...I just love you a lot Nat. Wanted to let you know that before we set off.” You hum and she nods her head, kissing your lips briefly before pulling you in for another hug. Her head is tucked into your shoulder and she rocks the two of you gently, kissing your temple once you both pull away. “Let’s get out of here.” She smiles and you nod your head, pulling the helmet on and securing it tightly.

Your breaths are shaky as Tony lowers all of you down into the water, preparing yourself for the pain you’re about to experience. Nat sees how tense you are and mistakes it for just plain old nerves, not knowing that you just gave yourself a death wish by swapping helmets with her. “It’s gonna be okay malysh.” Nat reassures you as she grabs your hand, you shooting her a smile as you make eye contact. “I know..I know..” You whisper under your breath, the water now over your heads as Tony lowers you deeper. “Get ready everyone, the pressure is going to hit hard.” Clint says and to the left of you, you see Steve’s helmet crack, your eyes widening as you spot it.

“Steve, what did you do?” You ask and he only looks at you, a gentle smile on his face as he sees you and Natasha. “Couldn’t let you leave her alone.” He smiles and you shake your head, frantically ordering Tony to not open the door. “Take care of her for me, okay kid?” Steve says and it’s too late, the door already opening and the pressure flooding in. “Steve no!” You yell as you see his helmet crack inwards, barley a second to register what happened before his suit implodes from the inside out.

“No Steve! No! Fuck!” You’re sobbing as everyone else processes what just happened, Tony frantically asking what just happened. “He switched our helmets! That idiot!” You say as Natasha just stands there in pure shock, Clint being the next one to speak up. “You knew your helmet was defective and you didn’t tell anyone?!” He questions and you shake your head. “I switched my helmet for Natasha’s! It was supposed to be me! Not Steve! He must’ve grabbed it when I got distracted, god damn it!” You’re angry, angry at Steve, angry at the helmet, angry at the earthquake, and most of all you’re angry at yourself. You should’ve noticed it. You should have made sure it was still the damaged one. “You should have just let me had it Y/n.” Nat says and you shake your head, glaring at your girlfriend.

“It’s better me than you Nat. You’re not dying, not if I can help it.” You say before everyone falls silent, everyone stunned at your outburst and Steve’s death. After a while Tony clears his throat and steps around you, looking into the depths of the mariana trench. “We’ll have time to mourn later, right now we need to make sure that we’ll live enough to.”

"Tony's dead..Wanda's dead, Vision..Steve..fuck they're all dead." Clint gasps out as he holds onto Natasha, the remaining three of you getting separated when a monster ambushed you. "Clint calm down, I need you to calm down." Nat says as she holds onto her best friend, darkness swirling around them. She forces herself to stay calm as she guides Clint through some deep breathes, refraining from asking about you until his pulse rate goes back down to normal.

You all saw their helmets crack and their blood muddle up the water, these monsters picking everyone off one by one. “Where’s Y/n?” Natasha asks once Clint can finally regulate his breathing, his grip loosening on her suit. “I..I don’t know. We got separated after that thing attacked us." He says and Nat is about to ask another question when she hears your static-y scream ring over the coms, her blood running cold as she sees your suit's lights frantically moving in the distance. "Haul ass Clint, come on." Nat doesn't waste any time as she tries to run through the water, dragging Clint along as she hears your screams through the coms. "Y/n! Y/n where are you?" Natasha calls out as your lights flicker off, head immediately turning 90 degrees when she sees your helmet lights come back on.

You're stabbing this merman-shark-eel hybrid in the face when Nat and Clint finally reach you, it's blood making the water murky as you kick it off. "Oh thank god you're alright." Nat breathes out once she sees you standing there, that relief only lasting for a moment as another thing latches onto both Clint and your legs. Its momentum is quick enough to knock both of you off your feet, unfortunately causing you to drop your knife in the process. Both you and Clint grit out curse words under your breath as you fight with the mysterious monster, Natasha loading up a flare gun to try and help. When she shoots the gun, it temporarily lights up the atmosphere around you, blood running cold as you see the monster that grabbed you.

Its teeth are sharp and dripping with blood, its slimy black claws slowly pulling you and Clint closer to its mouth. As it drags you along the ocean floor, you grab onto a jagged rock, quickly trying to swing at the arm. "Mother fucker." You curse as you hit the arm, it's sharp nails digging even more into your leg as a reflex. With all your might, you continue to swing at the hand, desperately wanting this to be over already. “Let. go. of. me.” You grunt out, watching the skin and muscle get hacked away. The monster screeches and pulls its arm back, now trying to drag in Clint double time since one of its meal got away. “Clint! Hold on!” You yell as you grab onto the man’s hand, trying to find any traction as you look at Clint. Nat is immediately behind you in an instant, grabbing onto your waist to hold the both of you back. Clint is screaming at this point, his leg getting torn by the nails clawing at his skin.

“Don’t let me go, please!” Clint says as you three get pulled closer to the monsters mouth, you desperately trying to tug him away. “I’ve got you, I’ve got you.” Your teeth are clenched as you feel yourself starting to loose your grip, Nat’s boots slipping on the ocean floor. “Don’t let go.” Clint begs and you nod your head, leaning forward even more to try and keep hold. “We’re gonna get out of this, I promise..” You say but there’s no time for him to respond, the monster roughly pulling him out of your grip and dragging him into the depths of the deep blue sea.

The last thing you hear is Clint’s painful screams that come through the coms, Nat grabbing onto you to keep you from falling over the edge. The both of you are quiet as you stare into the unknown, heart pounding as you realize that you’re the only ones left. “Clint.” Natasha whispers softly and you hold onto her, both of you trying to process how quick that was. “I’m sorry Tasha. I’m so sorry.” You whisper and she swallows thickly, taking one last look into the darkness before making eye contact with you. “It’s okay. It wasn’t your fault.” She says before composing herself, straightening her posture and checking her compass. “Come on, we got set off course.” Nat grabs your hand before she turns, keeping her gaze straight ahead as she pulls you both away from the ledge.

“They didn’t train us for this in the Navy.” Nat mumbles as you both trudge along the ocean floor, about half of the way towards the other drill facility. “Yeah, sea monsters and flesh eating eels weren’t exactly on the handbook.” You say before checking your compass, making sure you’re still on course. “Nope.” Nat sighs and shakes her head, glancing over at you with a soft smile.

“Hey..I love you.” She blurts out and your chest floods with warmth, a smile tugging at your lips as you look at her. “I love you, Tasha.” You say and she smiles back, both of you stepping a bit closer to one another. “When we get to the surface, would you..hypothetically..marry me?” Natasha asks and you raise an eyebrow, finding it amusing how Nat trying to play it cool.

“You know..because I can’t imagine my life without you, and I don’t want to live in a world without you in it. No scratch that, I couldn’t live in a world without you in it. You’re my soulmate..my person y/n, and I want to spend the rest of my life with you..hypothetically of course.” Nat finishes with an awkward laugh and you can only grin, reaching out to hold her hand gently. “Hypothetically..” You start and she laughs breathily. “If you asked me to marry you, I would say yes.” You say and she nods her head, a smile present in your words.

“Do you wanna ask?” You question and she shakes her head, making a little pff sound. “No I don’t want to ask.” She says and you nod your head, looking down at the map. “We’re almost there, just a few more miles-” “Will you marry me?” Nat breathes out in a rush and you laugh, looking back at the redhead who has a nervous smile on her face. “Mm yes.” You grin and Nat’s face lights up. “Yes?” She repeats, voice a bit high as she stares at you. “Yes you idiot.” You giggle as you tug her closer, squeezing her hand gently. “You better hug me when we get out of these suits.” You tease and she nods her head, looking at you with love in her eyes. “I’m gonna do you one better, I’m gonna marry you.”

Your breathing is shaky as you slightly lag behind Natasha, the air in your suit getting harder to breathe for the last few yards. “Are you okay darling?” Nat asks as she turns to look at you, you nodding your head as you wave a hand infront of your face. “I’m okay, just tired.” You say with a tired smile, Natasha nodding her head as she grabs your arm. “Come on you turtle, we’re almost there.” She teases and you can only laugh softly, continuing onward.

You’re struggling to take in breaths when a robotic voice rings through your ears, a small warning flashing in the corner of your helmet.

Caution, five minutes of air remaining. Oxygen pod damaged.

Fuck. You knew your luck would run out eventually, especially when you’re this close to escaping. “We’re only a few hundred yards from the facility, shouldn’t be too long before you get that hug.” Natasha smiles and you don’t respond, instead letting go of her arm and letting yourself fall behind a bit. “Y/n?” Nat asks as she faces you, seeing you stand there with a small smile on your face.

“Keep on going Nat, I’m right behind you.” You say softly, not wanting to worry your girlfriend as she’s so close to escaping. “No come on you dummy, let’s go.” She says but you shake your head, seeing the clock count down on the corner of the helmet. “I’m right behind you love.” You whisper, willing your voice not to break as Nat’s brows furrow. “Y/n what’s wrong?” She asks and her eyes widen once she sees it, the little screen on your arm flashing an oxygen warning. “You’ve gotta go Tasha.” You say and she shakes her head, gently holding your shoulders as her mind starts to race.

“What happened?” She asks and you point to the pack on your back. “The oxygen pod got damaged back when the monster dragged Clint and I across the floor, guess I didn’t notice it until now.” You say and Nat swallows thickly, checking her map before looking back at you. “If we’re quick enough we can make it, we just need to move-” She starts to say but you stop her gently, holding onto her biceps. “I’m not gonna make it, you know that Nat.” You whisper but she shakes her head holding onto you tighter. “No. No, you have to make it Y/n. Please.” She shakily says and you put your hands on the side of her helmet, holding the glass gently.

“We don’t have enough time Tasha.” You whisper and tears are forming in her eyes, the redhead trying to blink them away as she looks at you. “Please..you have to make it..” She begs, voice small as she sees the timer count down. “I need you to make it, I can’t do this without you..” Nat whispers and you only wish you could hug her one last time. “You don’t need me Tasha. But you’ve got to get going, you need to get to the survive for both of us.” You say and Natasha shakes her head, tears now fully falling. “I’m not just going to leave you here.” She says as her hands shake, trying to think of a way to get you to survive. “You have to.” You whisper before Nat pulls you in for a hug, the suits not stopping her from showing how much she loves you. “I love you Y/n.” She whispers and you hold her closer, closing your eyes as you hear the timer count down.

“I love you, Tasha.” You say softly, Nat holding you there for a few more moments before pulling away. “Keep my dog tags love, so I’ll always be with you.” She says as she pulls back from you, your eyebrows furrowing in confusion as you look up at the redhead. “What?” You question right before the ai voice rings out once again, the warning light suddenly clicking off.

Oxygen pod fixed, air supply replenished.

“Natasha.” You whisper out her name as you see your old oxygen pod drop to the sea floor, realizing that Nat just switched out the rest of her oxygen into your suit. With no pod in her suit, Natasha’s oxygen levels immediately drop, warning signs flashing bright red in her helmet. “I’m sorry darling.” Nat says as she looks at you, starting to feel lightheaded from the lack of air. “No..no no no no no.” You breathe out as Nat collapses into your arms, quickly moving her so she’s leaning onto your body. “Okay..okay come on. We can do this.” You mumble to yourself as you start to trudge your way towards the drilling facility. If there's one thing that they taught you in the Navy, that's to never give up, even when you're within an inch of your life you never stop fighting.

Once the murky lights of the drilling facility finally come into view, you almost jump for joy, Nat's head hung low as you drag her along. Your body aches and you think your leg might be broken, but that doesn't stop the relief coursing through your veins, opening the door and stumbling into the pressurized walkway. The entrance closes behind you before the water gets drained from the room, your legs collapsing from the lack of support the ocean gave you.

You gently place Nat on the ground before collapsing onto your knees, taking off your helmet and gasping down the fresh air. You cough a bit as you try and regain your breath, unzipping your suit so it bunches at your waist. Your coughs soon turn into laughs as you realize you've made it, quickly turning to Natasha to celebrate. "Nat, we did it. Holy shit..we fucking did it." You smile as you gently shake her shoulder, expecting her to take off her helmet by now.

"Nat..? Nat darling..we did it." You say softly, your smile fading as you take Nat's helmet off. "Oh my god, no." Your heart stops as you see Nat's pale cheeks and blue-tinted lips, shaky hands cupping her face as you ask the AI for her vitals.

No vitals found.

"Tasha..No please." You say before quickly moving to unzip her suit, fingertips touching her ice-cold skin. You start chest compressions as you desperately try to revive your love, the tears building up more and more with each round. "You made a promise, Nat." Your teeth are clenched as you finish another set of 30 compressions, bending down to give your fiancee two rescue breaths. "You said we're going to get out of this together. You promised me." You're barely keeping it together as you start another round, hot tears threatening to spill.

"You said you wanted to spend the rest of your life with me, well you can't do that if you leave me." Your chest is heaving as your compressions get sloppy. "So god damn it please Nat. Please. Please don't leave me." A sob rips from your throat as your movements finally falter, your arms collapsing from underneath you. Your entire body is wracked with sobs as you cling onto Natasha's shirt, crying into her chest as you hold her lifeless body.

You beg for Nat to come back like a broken record, chest heaving as you finally let all of your emotions breakthrough. You scream and you cry until your throat is raw, guilt gripping at your chest as you think all of your fallen crew members.

Your head rests on Natasha's stomach until your heart-wrenching sobs mellow down into silent cries, this small emotional break letting you spot something sticking out from your fiancee's helmet.

Sniffling a bit as you sit up, you take Nat's helmets into your hands, gingerly pulling out a piece of paper wedged into one of the corners. With shaky fingers, you hold it up into the light, breath catching in your throat when you see it. It's a picture of you and Nat after running one of the Navy obstacle courses, a wide smile on both of your faces as your working uniforms are caked in mud. A quivering smile tugs on your lips before you sob again, placing your head in your hands as your shoulders shake.

You’re still a mess as you fully get out of your suit, hands shaking with exhaustion as you put a makeshift splint on your leg. You easily find the escape pods and sigh in relief when you see that they’re all working, entering the commands to get to the surface.

As you stand in front of the pod, you decide to bring Natasha with you, refusing to leave the love of your life at the bottom of the ocean. The tears come rushing again as you pull Nat into the escape pod with you, pressing the button to close the hatch and to finally get the two of you out of here. “I’ve got you baby, I’ve got you.” You whisper as your arms tighten around Nat’s torso, slipping her dog tags over your head before you kiss her temple. Your eyes are screwed shut the entire time you travel to the surface, sniffling softly as hot tears silently run down your cheeks.

When you break the surface, you aren’t excited or relieved, you just feel numb, the cold air hitting your face once you open the pod. It’s like everything around you is shaded grey, your eyes dull and dead as the paramedics reach you. The entire time you’re looking at Natasha, seeing the first responders check for her pulse. As they pull your stretchers away from each other, there’s only one question on your mind: what’s the point of living in this world if Natasha isn’t in it?

————

The sunlight softly illuminates the Avengers compound in the early hours of the morning, two bodies warmly pressed up against each other under the protection of a fluffy duvet.

A phone alarm goes off but it doesn’t break the peaceful atmosphere in the bedroom, one of the bed’s occupants slowly turning over to shut off the device.

“Y/n, baby, wake up my love.” Natasha hums as she kisses you, her soft pink lips planting a few gentle kisses on your neck and cheek. Your only response is a hum as you turn in Natasha’s arms and bury your face into her neck, wrapping your arms around her torso and pulling yourself closer. “Come on darling.” Nat laughs as she runs her hand through your hair, voice a bit rough from just waking up. “Too early.” You mumble and Nat sighs, a sleepy smile still on her face as she holds you. “Steve will kill us if we’re late to training.” She says but you shake your head, gently kissing the warm skin of her neck.

“You’re the Black Widow, you could kick his ass ten times over if you wanted to.” You reason and Nat nods her head. “You do have a point malysh.” She says and you hum. “Five more minutes.” You mumble and Nat nods her head, wrapping her arms around you before pulling you closer. “Okay, five more minutes.” She whispers before kissing your cheek, her fingers running up and down your spine.

#natasha romanoff fanfiction #natasha romanoff x y/n #natasha romanoff x reader #natasha romanoff x you #marvel mcu #mcu natasha romanoff #mcu #au

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sserpente · 3 years

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A/N: Requests from three anons. Naughty, naughtier, naughtiest. Enjoy, everyone!

Words: 2426 Warnings: shameless Christmas smut

Additional NSFW warnings: dom!Loki, usage of anal sex toy, orgasm control, forced orgasm(s)

Feeling all warm and fuzzy, you snuggled in closer to your mischievous boyfriend. After three weeks of persistent persuasion, you had finally talked Loki into watching Christmas movies with you and to be quite frank, you were convinced he secretly enjoyed them.

A comedy was on tonight, of a young couple suffering from the usual pre-Christmas stress including eccentric in-laws and turkeys burnt to a cinder. You had been giggling throughout, knowing very well it was a rather accurate representation of how chaotic Christmas could be. In fact, you could hardly wait for this year, given it would be Loki’s and your first time celebrating it together as a couple.

“I recall you telling me that those sex scenes in films are staged unless you watch a… what was it?”

“Porn movie?”

“Yes. I must admit, she is terrible at staging it.” You quirked an eyebrow at him.

“She is doing it on purpose. She is faking her orgasm.” You explained, staring at the screen. The male protagonist was wearing a Santa hat and a fake white beard—nothing else. He had surprised his girlfriend who had just gotten home from a long and exhausting day at work and even though she appreciated it, she was just too tired for sex.

“Why in the nine would she do that? That is rather pathetic for the male part.”

You blushed. You too had faked your orgasms sometimes when you were in bed with Loki.

“Um… well… she doesn’t want to hurt his feelings. You know women take longer to get there and sometimes… they’re just too tired or not in the right mind set.” You yawned. “Much like today.” You added.

Loki paused the movie with but a wave of his hand and turned to face, looking you dead in the eye. “Are you implying something?” Oh, shit… you had a feeling this would bruise his godly ego.

“I… I-I only did it a few times. Once or twice. Okay, maybe a little bit more often than that. B-but that doesn’t mean I don’t ever—“

“You are what?” He bellowed. There we go.

“Loki! Listen to me, you are the most mind-blowing lover I’ve ever had. It’s like I just said, sometimes I’m too tired or have so much going on at work that I can’t let go… it’s got nothing to do with you!” You insisted.

“That is unacceptable.” He said after an uncomfortable break.

“W-what does that mean?”

Loki gave you a meaningful look. His tone was downright spiteful when he spoke again. “Let’s just finish the movie, shall we?”

You were a little surprised he let you cuddle with him again but you couldn’t focus on the film anymore anyway.

“Are you… mad at me?” You chirped after a while, your cheek against his chest, listening to his rapid heartbeat.

“No. I am not.” You were not convinced. He was up to something.

The next morning started all but merry. You woke Loki with a few wet kisses, quietly singing O Christmas Tree to elicit a response.

Loki groaned, a smile playing on his lips. He didn’t need a lot of sleep but he truly didn’t like being woken up by anyone but his own body when it deemed him rested enough.

You giggled, his raven hair tickling your skin. You barely made it out of bed to open the very last door of your advent calendar and then moved to get dressed. As usual, Loki was a lot faster, simply magicking clothes onto his body without so much as blinking.

You were late. The Avengers were probably already waiting for you in the living room where Tony had put up a massive Christmas tree. And massive it was—it stood almost twenty feet high, about six metres, as far as you were concerned, and the billionaire had had to use his suit to hang up all the baubles and ornaments as well as the shining star on top. And before you had gone to sleep last night, you had sneaked your presents for everyone under the tree.

You bit your lower lip, hoping that Loki wasn’t still taken aback by your involuntary confession last night. You had meant what you had said. He was an amazing lover but sometimes… you just weren’t feeling it but still didn’t want to disappoint him or let him down. A sigh escaped your lips.

“Come on, Trickster, let’s see what Santa brought.”

“Hold up.” Loki said. “Turn around for me.”

You raised your eyebrows, not expecting anything out of the ordinary. So you did as you were told and gasped when he forced you to bend over so your upper body came to rest on the bed again, your backside in plain view for him to admire.

“Hey! Loki!” You giggled during your weak protest, then bit your lower lip. Did he want to… now? Hmm… Christmas morning sex. Your heartbeat sped up as you wiggled your behind a bit, arousal already pooling between your legs.

You heard him chuckle behind you but instead of his hard cock at your wet entrance, you suddenly felt something hard and cold press against your back entrance.

“L-Loki…” You had tried toys of the like before, especially right before sex and you had enjoyed it very much but now was definitely not the time. You were about to head downstairs to the Christmas tree, exchanging presents and having a hearty breakfast with the Avengers, there was no way you were going to…

You gasped when he slid the clearly lubed plug into your rear, and it went in with little resistance. Loki knew your body so well it almost scared you. That, and you were already soaking wet and responsive to your butthole being pampered in such a way.

“Hmm… are we enjoying ourselves?” Loki mused, smirking as he led you over to the mirror to let you admire his work. The plug was a little bigger than what you were using for sex but still oddly comfortable to wear. What stood out the most to you, however, was the fact it was golden, with a green jewel attached to it and decorating your buttocks. “You are positively dripping, my dear.”

You bit your lower lip once more, mouth all of a sudden completely dry.

“It looks hot and beautiful at the same time.” You admitted, meeting his blue eyes in the mirror.

“Consider it a Christmas gift.” He said with a wink. Your eyes widened when he slid your comfy trousers back on and turned to leave the room.

“Hang on there. What are you doing?”

Loki tilted his head, playing innocent. “I am meeting my brother and his silly friends for Christmas.”

“W-what… oh my goodness. This is about last night, isn’t it? You want revenge, is that right?”

Loki smirked. “I have no idea what you are talking about, my love. Now… let us head downstairs, shall we?” You only glared at him in response, tensing up when his hand wrapped around your arm and stopped you in the threshold. “You will regret it dearly if you secretly try to take this out before I allow you to do so.” He hissed into your ear. Your walls clenched. This was certainly going to be your most interesting Christmas yet.

You had been right indeed. Crouching down to get the presents out from under the tree proved extremely difficult wearing a butt plug—at least, it proved extremely difficult to not moan in front of everyone.

Loki’s smirk never faltered, not even when he received your present and thanked you with a passionate kiss right in front of the Avengers. If only they knew… you had no idea what else Loki had in store for you once the two of you were alone again.

Christmas dinner posed as equally difficult. Sitting calmly at the table, enjoying the delicious turkey and treats and conversing without wiggling around like a child was nearly impossible. For the first time ever, you were glad when the festivities were over and you could finally retreat to bed, hoping that Loki would fuck your brains out before you fell asleep tonight.

You stood in front of him, arms akimbo when his clothes melted off of his body and he threw back the covers of the bed to get comfortable when you returned from the bathroom.

“Are you serious? Loki!”

“Oh dear… I almost forgot.” He lied, once again smirking like a cat that got the cream. “Lie down, little minx. Tell me, are you aching?” He teased, chuckling darkly.

“No!” You spat sarcastically, unable to hide your amusement. “I have been horny all day, you tease!”

“Have you now?” He was grinning now. Your heart skipped a beat when he snapped his fingers and then pointed at the bed for you to lie down. At this point, you did not even want to pretend to resist and be bratty for a bit.

Eager for your release (and knowing fully well this was his vengeance) you climbed on the mattress and gaped up at him with anticipation. But Loki took his time. Slowly and while eyeing you like a wild predator he joined in bed, tugging at your clothes in the process.

“Take them off.” He growled. You were panting when you did as you were told, all until you were completely naked except for the butt plug still snugly inside of your rear. A squeal escaped your lips when he lunged at you with a start, grabbing your hips and pulling you into a lying position. His scrutinising and downright lustful gaze never left yours as he sneaked his hand between your legs, right where you wanted him the most and dipped a finger in your folds.

“My… you are gushing.” You bucked your hips up against him, too impatient to listen to him talk dirty like that but his hand was already travelling upwards again, fingertips ghosting over your skin and leaving a trail of goose bumps behind. You gasped when he circled your left breast and played with your already hardening nipple until you were whimpering for him.

“Loki, please…” You begged, biting your lower lip to appear innocent. The God of Mischief chuckled.

“So desperate?” He uttered, fingers returning to your cunt. You shivered when his thumb ghosted over your clit, giving it a gentle stroke. You had been on edge all day it would not at all take you long to finally be granted your long-awaited relief, even less so when Loki buried two of his long fingers inside you without any forewarning, curling them to massage your g-spot and circling your impatient clit with his thumb. His fingers were magic. No, he was magic. If only the world knew what a skilled lover Loki was they would change their mind about him being a megalomaniac villain and shower him with affection and fanmerch instead.

Moaning, you threw your head back, meeting the thrusts of his digits by bucking your hips hungrily. Loki could tell you were close already. You were tightening around his fingers, your breathing so fast he feared you might lose consciousness.

A satisfied growl escaped his lips when you came, milking his fingers as endless waves of pleasure rolled over your body, making you moan his name. Only Loki did not stop once all the bliss slowly started to fade away, your clit complaining about the ongoing stimulation.

“Again. Now.” Loki growled.

“W-what?”

“I want another. How can I be sure you truly came, after all?” He mused. You groaned. So it was revenge after all. He knew exactly you had come.

“I d-did… w-what… I can’t… Loki… oh, fuck…” He knew you could. He knew your body could. Still fingering you relentlessly, he tossed you straight into another hot orgasm as his thumb returned to your clit. Your back arched, fingers digging into the bed sheets as you clenched rhythmically around his long digits. Heavens, it felt even more intense with the butt plug still snugly inside of you.

“L-Loki… stop… s-stop, please…” You breathed, unable to form a proper sentence.

“Oh no, my dear… you can give me one more. Just so I can be completely sure.” He replied hoarsely, knowing that you could take it and would react differently if you truly had enough. It was the mix of pleasure and your strong feelings for him that made your mind turn like a spinning wheel, unable to stop or escape the tornado of emotions and relentless bliss. So he kept going, tormenting your already overstimulated bundle of nerves until your toes curled.

“Don’t you ever dare fake an orgasm with me again.” He growled into your ear, his hot breath brushing against your skin. Pleasant shivers ran up and down your spine, yet you were unable to answer him. Instead, you wrapped your arms around him and dug your nails into his back, pulling his upper body closer to yours to urge him on, his name leaving your lips like a prayer as he brought you to a third orgasm making you see stars.

Panting, it took you quite a while to come down from your high again as Loki helped you ride out your climax before finally removing his now slick fingers and licking them clean with relish. When he made no move to position himself between your legs and get some relief himself, you let your head fall back into the soft pillows, making Loki chuckle.

“No falling asleep just yet, my love. Let me remove the jewel from that lovely behind of yours first.” Your eyes fell shut nonetheless, an acknowledging sound the only form of communication you could still muster as you let Loki gently take out the plug. You would have drifted off to sleep there and then, without a blanket, if Loki didn’t scoop you up like a cherished bride and wrapped you under the covers before cradling you in his arms.

“I’m so sorry, Loki.” You muttered, eyes still shut tiredly.

“Whatever for?”

“I never meant to offend you when I faked, I just wanted you to have your fun even when I wasn’t in the mood.”

“I know. Don’t lie to me again. Ever. There is no point for me to take pleasure from you if I am unable to return the favour.”

You smiled. You really had the most amazing boyfriend in the world. Well… which was probably because he was in fact, not from this world. No Christmas present could ever compete.

A/N: If you enjoyed this story, I would appreciate it so much if you considered supporting me on Kofi! It’s either for caffeine or red wine, I’ll take both. ko-fi.com/sserpente ♥

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theweasleysredhair · 4 years

Text

I Wanna Be Yours [G.W.]

Character: George Weasley

Word Count: 6025

Requested?: Yes/No

Summary: Love is complicated. Especially when the boy you love likes someone else. Or does he? [Based on the film Some Kind of Wonderful].

WARNING: brief mentions of alcohol and drinking

Tags: @gracemayhateyou @criminalyetminimal @firewhisky-kisses @obsessedwithrandomthings @angelinathebook @iprobablyshipit91 @potterverseimagine @slytherineheir @kpopgirlbtssvt @rexorangecouny @mytreec @hemmoporro @thisismysketchbook @acciotwinz @shadowsinger11 @aaannabbanana @lestersglitterglue @anyasthoughts @lxncelot @harrypotter289 @starlightweasley @slytherinsunrise @valwritesx @hufflrpuffforfred @cappsikle @kiwi-sloan @potter-redheads @pigwidgexn @twinkyjohnson @tinylumpiaa @locke-writes @user12345321 @wand3ringr0s3 @ickle-ronniekins @sehunasbitch @cryingforcrystalpepsi @kashishwrites @girl-next-door-writes @susceptible-but-siriusexual @crissdanvers @whizbangs-78 @heart-of-tempered-steel @oh-for-merlins-sake @heavenlymidnight @aylinw3asley @andineversawyoucoming | message or send an ask to be added/removed!

Disclaimer: Gif isn't mine, credit to whoever made it

A/n: i am again naming my fics after arctic monkeys’ songs - fun fact this one is named after my favourite one of theirs, i’m considering having it for my wedding song bc it cute af

also yes i watched some kind of wonderful whilst writing this and cried. it’s not even a sad fic, i’m just emotional smh

~*~

PLEASE DO NOT REPOST MY WORK! REBLOGS ARE ABSOLUTELY FINE! <3

+ + + + +

“Y/n! Wait up!”

You span round on your heels, wiping away a stray tear that had fallen, “I said I’m fine, Fred! Okay? I’m fine. Absolutely fabulous, in fact.”

Fred stopped in front of you, a shimmer of pity in his brown eyes that made you feel even worse than you already did, “I just want to make sure you’re okay. I-I’m sorry-“

“I know. I know, Freddie,” you replied, your voice quiet as you pressed your lips together, reaching out to grab his hands in yours, “It’s okay. It is, really. I just... I need to be alone.”

“But I- I just... it’s his loss, just so you know!” He pleaded, shaking his head at you, and swore under his breath at the sight of one of his closest friends in tears over his brother, “Merlin, he shouldn’t have given that to her- I shouldn’t have said anything-“

And that’s where your problem had started. Because a few weeks ago, you were, as you claimed, fine. Well, you had a few essays due and were having trouble finding the textbooks to help you write them, but that was all really.

How you wished you could steal a time turner and go back in time.

And yes, when this all started you knew that George had his heart taken by someone else. It’s not his fault, not really, that his whole plan, scheme, escapade turned into something that would completely crush your heart.

Affairs of the heart. That’s where this started. Because before a few days ago, you were unaware of your own feelings. Before a few days ago, you were unaware of any feelings towards him at all.

But that fateful moment - the one where you were sat with George in front of the fireplace, a half-drank bottle of firewhisky sitting between you, laughing and joking - was the one that changed everything.

You hadn’t even realised yourself, until Fred pointed it out to you the morning after, when he’d found you curled up by George’s side, empty firewhisky bottle laying on the floor in front of the couch, George’s arm around your waist, your face buried into his chest.

In Fred’s defence, he thought you knew. He thought you’d be aware of your own feelings.

How was he supposed to know that you didn’t know you were in love with his twin?

_________~*~_________

“This is the year I reckon,” George announced to you as he collapsed onto the sofa beside you, throwing his legs over your thighs as he rested his back against the arm of the couch, his arms resting behind his neck, “She’s finally single, first time since second year. Now’s my chance!”

You popped a Bertie’s Every Flavour Bean into your mouth and closed the book you weren’t really paying attention to, before dropping it on the table in front of the couch, “And how long have you liked her again?”

George blinked at the way you raised an eyebrow at him and sat up a little, “Since I found out she was single again.” At your pointed look, he shot you a grin, “Nah, since before the summer. Point is, I reckon I could really like this girl.”

“Poor love, having you snivelling around her all the time. I wonder how she’ll cope,” you grinned back, throwing one of the jelly beans at his head.

“Well you seem to cope just fine,” he retorted, batting another jelly bean away from his head.

“That’s just because I’m desensitised to you by now.”

“Is that so?” George asked with a raised eyebrow, a grin etched onto his face as he sat up properly, leaning a little closer to you. You turned your head to face him, meeting his stare as you nodded, “Course, how else would I have put up with you so long?”

He leant further forward and pressed a quick kiss to your forehead, “Willingly, because you love me, stupid.”

You nudged him, making him laugh as he went back to lying down comfortably, “Yeah, yeah.”

You watched a few first years clamber through the portrait hole, laughing to each other as they made their way through the common room, an absent-minded smile gracing your lips as you recalled being the same in your first year with your friends.

“How do you reckon I should ask her out?” George’s voice brought you away from your reminiscing as you looked over at him, “She deserves something amazing, something no other guy will have thought of for her.”

You rolled your eyes, knowing this would be the topic of conversation for the rest of the evening, but nevertheless gestured for him to continue on. “I wanna go all out if she’s gonna turn out to be everything I’ve ever wanted in a girl,” George finished, a dreamy, faraway look crossing his features.

Reaching into the box of jelly beans, you grabbed a handful and threw them at him, ignoring his indignant “hey!” as you replied pointedly, “Don’t go mistaking paradise for a pair of long legs.”

Because truthfully, that was why a lot of guys were interested in Kiara. She was smart - being a Ravenclaw and all - surprisingly funny, and, as far as you knew, was really kind too. Not that this mattered to many of the boys in your year (and the years above and below), apparently, because she was also beautiful, with long, glossy brown hair, perfect doll-like features and, yes, long, lean legs.

“That’s not why I like her,” George insisted, grabbing one of the jelly beans that had fallen onto his lap and throwing it back at you, laughing as it hit you on the forehead. You playfully glared at him, rubbing your forehead in mock-hurt.

“Sure it’s not, stupid,” you replied, using his minor insult from before. “Ohhh, I’m the stupid one now, am I?” He scoffed, though the smile on his face told you he wasn’t offended in the slightest, “Now you’re in for it.”

He moved his legs off you and poked your sides, knowing you were ticklish, making you laugh out and push him away, “George, stop!”

“Take it back then, love. Say I’m the smartest wizard you know,” he grinned, continuing his minor tickling assault, making you move away from him so abruptly that you fell off the couch and onto the carpeted floor, bringing him down on top of you.

“Ouch- never! You are stupid, stupid!” You laughed, laying on the floor as you tried to catch your breath, George’s hands either side of your head, holding his weight up above you.

Both of your laughter faded a little and you found yourself staring into his brown eyes, his face barely centimetres from your own. You could have almost sworn that he started moving closer - though maybe it was your imagination - before he rolled away and lay beside you on the floor, his hand brushing yours.

“You’ll help me right?” He asked after a moment. You turned your head to look at him, taking in his side profile as he stared up at the ceiling.

“I’ll help you what?”

“Get a date with her,” he said as if it were obvious, turning his head to meet your gaze. You shot him a smile, “You’re George Weasley. You could get a date with anyone you wanted.”

“Just not you, right?” He turned onto his side, resting on his elbow as he looked down at you. You shook your head with a laugh, “Yeah well, I don’t count. I’m not just anyone.”

The smile he gave you made your heart beat a little faster, “You’re right about that.”

***

“All I’m saying is, is it such a bad idea if you just, I don’t know, asked her out simply? By using words? I really don’t think you need to wax poetic, or write her a bloody song to ask her out,” you shook your head in despair at the nerve-wracked boy sat across from you in the Great Hall.

“I can’t just ask her out,” George replied in a horrified voice, “What if she thinks I’ve not put enough effort into it and rejects me?”

“Trust me, Georgie, if she’s going to reject you, it won’t be because of the way you asked her out, I can guarantee that. It’ll be because you’re annoying, or because you smell, or, and I can’t stress this enough, because of your below-average skills in potions,” you laughed at his unimpressed look, taking the opportunity to grab a slice of toast off his plate.

“You’re supposed to be my best friend, you know,” he grumbled, waving his fork at you. “Yes,” you replied, “And as your best friend, I say to just ask her out. Look, joking aside, you’re a great guy, George. She’d be lucky to have you.”

He nodded, smiling gratefully at you as he reached forward and grabbed your hand to give it a squeeze, “Okay, I’ll trust you on this one. I’ll just... ask her out. How difficult could it be?”

Turns out, extremely difficult. You felt second hand embarrassment as you watched George head over to the Ravenclaw table, to where Kiara was sitting, wincing as he nearly dropped a goblet of pumpkin juice over her.

“Who’re you watching?” A voice said from beside you, making you jump. Fred laughed as you rolled your eyes at him, before replying, “For your information, I’m watching your brother ask Kiara on a date.”

“Wait, he’s asking another girl on a date?” Fred frowned, his eyes darting from George, who was currently speaking to Kiara, his cheeks reddening as she touched his shoulder and laughed, to your confused expression as you looked up at the older twin. “Yes?” You replied, bemused, “Why?”

“Does it not... bother you?” He asked gently. You laughed, “Why would it?”

And as you watched Kiara throw her arms around George’s neck, his hands coming to hold her waist, you swallowed thickly, before shaking your head at the odd feeling in the pit of your stomach.

Why would it bother you?

You forced a smile onto your face as George made his way back to his original seat, a smug grin adorning his features. “Well?” You asked, rather redundantly as you had seen the whole thing yourself.

“She said yes,” he replied excitedly, picking up his fork and popping some bacon into his mouth. “I told you!” You grinned at him, though you pushed your own plate away, no longer hungry.

“Attaboy, Georgie!” Fred congratulated his twin, “When’s the date?”

“This Saturday, at The Three Broomsticks,” the younger twin replied. You zoned out of the chatter on the table about this newest revelation, feeling your heart plummet at George’s words, though you couldn’t place your finger on why.

George was your best friend, you should be happy for him... right?

***

Saturday arrived quicker than you wanted, after a week of tedious lessons, and a bombardment of questions over what George should do on his date.

You watched him pull out two different jumpers, holding each one up at a time and looking at you expectedly. Tilting your head to the side, you pointed to the red one, “Was always my favourite one.”

“Red it is,” he nodded, throwing the other jumper onto his bed as he held the red jumper out to you for you to hold. Without warning, he pulled the t shirt he was currently wearing off, leaving his toned torso on show as he dropped said t shirt onto the floor and held his hand out for the jumper.

You handed it to him, gulping a little as you forced yourself not to stare at his abs. It was no secret the George was good looking - you’d always known it - but knowing and seeing were two different things. Being a Beater had done tremendous things to his body, you noted.

“Do you reckon I should bring her flowers?” George asked you, looking at you through the reflection of his mirror as he messed his hair up a little.

“Couldn’t hurt,” you shrugged, sending him a half-hearted smile as you grabbed your wand, muttering ‘orchideous’ and handing him the bouquet that was produced.

He thanked you, before taking a deep breath, “Well, what do you reckon?”

The smile that spread across your face this time was genuine, a soft look in your eye as you replied, “You look great, Georgie. Now go get her!”

He shot you one last grin, pressing a kiss to your forehead, before heading out of his dorm, leaving you alone. You picked up the t shirt he’d dropped, folding it and placing it at the end of his bed, before grabbing the jumper he’d discarded.

You took a breath before deciding to put the jumper on, relishing in the smell of George’s aftershave as you pulled it over your head, before rolling up the sleeves and heading out of the dorm.

***

“How many dates has it been now, three? Four?” You asked, wrapping your coat further around yourself as you trudged through the thick snow of Hogsmeade, passing by a couple of cute shops.

“The Yule Ball will be the fifth.”

You froze at the mention of the Ball. Somehow you’d assumed you’d be going with George - you didn’t even think about the fact that he’d have a girlfriend he could take, “Oh! So you um, asked Kiara to the Ball then?”

“Last night,” George bit his lip as he smiled, “Can’t wait!”

Your stomach clenched and mind raced, eyebrows furrowing as you realised you now had just under a week and half to find a date to the Ball - if anyone was still available, that was. You thought about every single eligible boy you knew of, wondering if you had the courage to even ask any of them, before you were pulled from your thoughts by George’s voice.

“I wanna buy her something for Christmas, what do you reckon?” George asked, picking at a strand coming off his woollen hat before placing it back onto his head.

“I don’t really know the girl,” you said truthfully, forcing yourself to stop thinking about George and Kiara dancing and him holding her all night, “I assume you’d have better judgment.”

He nodded over to a small shop on your left, one that you’d passed by many times but never had the chance to look in.

“The jewellery shop?” You asked, raising your eyebrows at him. He grabbed your hand and pulled you over to the door, “Let’s just have a look, yeah?”

The bell chimed as you stepped inside and you instantly became enamoured with the little shop, rows of glass cases showing off sparkly pieces of jewellery and adornments. Most, you noticed quickly, were much too expensive for you - and by default, much too expensive for George, too.

“Are you sure about something from in here?” You asked, staring down at a ring adorned with sapphires, “These are pretty pricey.”

“They might be, but she deserves it. Besides, gotta prove I’m better than all the guys that want to date her, right?” George replied from across the shop.

“Georgie,” you looked over at him with a pointed look, “I can promise you are better than all the other guys.”

“No harm in making sure.”

You gave up arguing, knowing he wouldn’t listen anyway, your eyes taking in the beautiful products, before your focus was taken by a rather stunning necklace. Stepping over to it for a closer look, you breathed out in shock at the price, but nevertheless knew you were in love with the chain, a little pendant surrounded by crystals displayed at the centre.

“What’ve you seen?” George spoke, suddenly standing behind you and leaning over your shoulder.

You pointed at the necklace, “Someday, I’m gonna buy that one.”

George glanced down at the look on your face and grinned to himself, “Someday, I’ll buy that one for you.” You turned to look at him, shaking your head in amusement, “You need to choose something for your girlfriend before you start promising me presents.”

“What’s the fun in that?” George laughed as you both left the shop.

You sat beside George on the couch later that night, resting your head on his shoulder as you shared a bottle of firewhisky between you.

“It was not!” You screeched, your laugh echoing through the empty common room as you nudged the ginger boy, making him laugh along with you. “It absolutely was,” he insisted, grinning before taking a sip of the firewhisky, taking in the sight of you looking so happy, and realising your laugh was one of his favourite sounds, “You were the one who wanted to sneak food from the kitchens, so it was your fault we got caught!”

You shook your head, “It was you tripping into that metal armour. All that noise when the bloody head fell off.”

“You pushed me, stupid!” George scolded indignantly, crossing his arms over his chest and pouting like a child.

“I shoved you,” you corrected, laughing as George playfully nudged you, causing you to nudge him back, and soon you were play fighting on the couch.

He, once again, was above you, almost pinning you to the couch as he looked down at you, and it was only then that you realised just how inebriated you both were, the empty firewhisky bottle having fallen onto the floor.

George’s tongue darted out to lick his bottom lip, “You know I love you, right?”

You smiled softly up at him, arms around his neck as you nodded, somehow feeling like those words had more weight to them than usual. Leaning up to kiss his cheek, you replied, “Of course, Georgie.”

Morning arrived quickly, much to your dismay, and you were woken abruptly by the sound of heavy footsteps stomping down the stairs. You couldn’t bring yourself to move to see who it was, too comfortable with your head resting on George’s chest, his arm securely around your waist, but luckily for you, said culprit of the noise came right by your line of sight, wiggling his eyebrows at you.

“Well what do we have here?” Fred cooed, rocking back and forth as he looked at you curled up in his twin’s arms. “Me and George falling asleep after drinking maybe a tad too much?” You replied as if it were obvious.

“You look awfully cosy,” he grinned, “But then, I suppose I would too if I was cuddling someone I was in love with.”

You felt like your heart stopped and you nearly choked on air, “Wait wait wait, someone I what?!”

“‘Someone I was in love with’?” Fred repeated slowly, narrowing his eyes at you, “You do know... right?”

At your blank expression, Fred raised an eyebrow, “You do know you’re in love with George... right?”

“I’m not in love with-“ You paused as you thought back over the years of your friendship. You’d never really thought about it before - never really had to. But you treated George differently to any other friend you had. No one could make you laugh like he could, or make you feel as protected and safe as he did. And no one ever made you feel like you were flying, like he did.

“Oh Godric... I’m in love with George!” You whisper-shouted, a hand coming to cover your mouth as the realisation dawned on you.

Fred nodded, “I didn’t know that you didn’t know.”

“That’s why you asked me if it bothered me when he asked out Kiara, isn’t it?” You suddenly realised, gulping harshly.

Fred nodded again, though a tad more hesitantly than before, “Hey, but listen- I really think he feels the same, if it makes you feel any better! He just doesn’t know it either.”

You moved out of George’s grasp and stood up, pressing your lips together as you looked at Fred, “He’s got a girlfriend, who he’s taking to the Yule Ball and who he adores and they’re probably gonna get married and have kids and I’m going to be alone forever!”

“Hey, that’s not- that won’t happen,” Fred replied, his gaze softening as he saw a tear fall down your cheek. He wrapped his arms around you, pulling you into his chest and stroking your back comfortingly.

“He loves you, I know it. And he knows it too. He just doesn’t know that he knows it.”

***

Ever since your realisation in the early morning, you’d tried your best to act normal around George. It wasn’t easy, and you felt that maybe you were being a little more distant than usual, however you quickly pushed that thought aside as you noticed George being equally - if not more - distant, sitting at the end of the table beside Fred, Kiara on his other side as he whispered things in her ear, making her laugh.

You felt a pang of hurt, one that got worse the longer you stared at them, watching as they kissed, as George stared at her lovingly, as he pushed her long, brown, stupidly perfect hair behind her ear and making her blush.

Sitting on the opposite side of the table, you made yourself look away, instead immersing yourself in the conversation Ron and Harry were having about the Yule Ball.

“This is mad, at this rate we’ll be the only ones in our year without dates!” Ron hissed at Harry as you were all sat in the Great Hall, supposedly studying. You hid a laugh as Snape walked past and pushed his head.

“Well, us and Neville,” he continued with a small laugh. Harry leant over to him, “Yeah but then again, he can take himself.”

“It might interest you to know that Neville has already got someone,” Hermione interrupted their laughing with a frown.

Ron sighed, catching your gaze as you laughed at him - which made him sigh again, “Now I’m really depressed.”

You observed from the other side of the table as Fred threw a piece of parchment over to his younger brother, winking at you when he noticed you watching, as Ron frowned at the words on the page.

Ron handed the parchment back, glancing around to avoid Snape and whispered, “Who are you going with then?”

Fred grabbed the parchment and crumpled it up into a ball, before throwing it at you, the paper bouncing off your shoulder. You looked down at the paper, before meeting Fred’s gaze with a raised eyebrow.

He grinned at you, before miming the Ball, nodding over at you. You rolled your eyes, glancing round for Snape before throwing the parchment back at him, hitting him square in the face and causing half the table to hid their faces as they laughed.

“Well?” He asked, seemingly unfazed by the parchment that was now resting at his feet.

“Yeah, go on then, I suppose,” you whispered, shaking your head at him as he winked at Ron. When all the attention went back to school work, you caught Fred’s gaze again and smiled thankfully.

He saluted playfully, making you laugh, neither one of you noticing George’s frown and clenched fists beside him.

***

You hadn’t seen much of George since Fred had asked you to the Ball, him being too busy spending practically all of his time with Kiara.

It hurt, you had to admit, that he was constantly choosing her over you. Though you assumed it was only natural, what with Kiara being his first proper girlfriend.

Didn’t mean it hurt any less. And the fact you were so used to having George to yourself didn’t help - sometimes turning to ask him something, and then realising he’s not there.

He’d moved seats in class to sit by Kiara, meaning in some classes you were sat with whoever happened to be her previous partner, which therefore meant you were forced to watch as the boy you loved flirted with another girl, his hands constantly on her waist, sneaking kisses when the professor wasn’t looking, and, more often than not, simply not even acknowledging your existence, not even saying a simple ‘hello’.

In other classes you were sat by Fred, who, by all accounts, was actually a pretty good partner, being able to make you laugh and distract you from the show that tore your heart every time you saw it.

In fact, Fred had pretty much mastered exactly how to make you laugh until you cried, his aim in most lessons now, as he hated how sad you were because of his twin.

You were both giggling in the back of the classroom at something he’d said when McGonagall had pointed it out, asking you both to “Please quieten down.”

You bit your lip to muffle your laughing as Fred looked down at you, just happy he could make his friend smile when he knew how much you were hurting.

Much to the dislike of a certain redhead towards the front of the room, who immediately frowned every time he heard your laugh, knowing he wasn’t the one causing it, but his older twin.

His twin who was taking you to the Yule Ball.

George clenched his jaw as he heard you whispering something to Fred, barely being able to focus on anything else.

He knew you and Fred were friends, but since when were you both that close?

***

By the time the Yule Ball arrived, you and George were barely speaking at all. You’d cried about it more times than you’d like to admit, but you had decided that tonight, at the Ball, you would make it a night to remember, not wanting to mope and ruin Fred’s night since he had asked you pretty much as a favour - despite the amount of times he’d insisted he wanted to ask you, you knew he fancied Angelina Johnson, and had things played out differently, you were sure she’d have been the one he’d thrown the parchment at in the hall that day, not you.

Either way, when you’d made your way down the steps to the Great Hall, your dress swirling around you, hair and makeup perfect, Fred made a huge deal of wolf-whistling and complimenting you.

“Well aren’t you bloody gorgeous,” he grinned, taking your hand and bringing it up to his lips to kiss the back of it, “I am one lucky guy.”

“You clean up pretty good too, Weasley,” you grinned, reaching up to straighten out his tie.

George scowled as he watched you with Fred, hating you being in such proximity to his brother, hands clenching and knuckles turning white as he watched Fred kiss the back of your hand. He had to force himself not to run over and shove Fred’s hands away from your waist, as he guided you off to the Hall. He was so distracted by firstly how stunning you looked, and secondly by how forward his brother was being, that he barely even noticed when Kiara had arrived by his side, until she nudged him a little and he forced out a smile.

He complimented the brunette girl, guiding her into the Hall as his hand reached into his pocket, brushing over a box to make sure it was still there.

Fred had been the perfect date all evening. He was a gentlemen - besides the occasional flirty comment - and insisted on staying by your side and dancing, even when you tried to usher him to ask Angelina to dance.

He was just about to give into your insistence with a laugh, when he noticed your expression changed as your attention was taken from him to whatever was going on behind him.

He cursed under his breath as he watched George hold out a small black box to Kiara, who had a huge smile on her face as she took the lid off. She pulled out a necklace, bringing George into a hug immediately, pressing kisses to his face.

Fred stood in front of your view of them, taking your hands in his, “Y/n... I’m sorry. He’s an idiot- he doesn’t know he’s got such a good thing, and wouldn’t know it if you punched him in the face - which, for the record, I think you should do.”

You wiped a stray tear from your eye, forcing yourself not to cry, “He gave her the necklace.”

“I know. I know, but he-“

“No Fred,” you interrupted gently, “He gave her the necklace. That necklace is one I saw when we were in Hogsmeade, and I said I wanted it. He-He even said he’d buy it for me one day! Not that I’d let him but- He bought it for her.”

Fred’s gaze softened, his heart breaking at the sight of your sad face, wrapping his arms around you and swaying a little to the music absent-mindedly.

“I’m sorry,” Fred whispered in your ear. You nodded, leaning against his shoulder, “Not your fault your brother is stupid.”

The song that was playing ended, and Fred grabbed your hand, leading you over to the table where the food and drinks were, pouring you a glass and offering it out to you. You took it gratefully, thanking him before taking a sip.

“Didn’t know you two were that close,” a voice came from behind you. A voice you knew well, one you could pick out anywhere. Fred reached out to squeeze your hand reassuringly, as you placed your glass down, nodding at him before turning around.

“Fred and I have always been good friends. I do have friends, other than you, you know. Which is a good job, considering you’ve been so distant with me,” you replied, focusing on keeping your voice level, rather than on the fact that he’d just given your necklace to his girlfriend.

George felt himself get angry as he noticed yours and Fred’s intertwined hands, swallowing harshly and shoving his hands into his trouser pockets.

“You know I’ve been trying to impress Kiara, being in a relationship takes up time. Not that you’d know, but I thought you’d understand. Didn’t think you’d replace me that quickly,” George retaliated in the midst of his anger, only being able to focus on you and Fred, and how close you were.

“Replaced you?” You scoffed, crossing your arms over your chest, “You barely even say hello to me! So yes, I turned to a friend so I wasn’t alone. You’re the one who replaced me! And you gave her the necklace, George. The necklace you knew I wanted. You gave it to her.”

Not waiting for a response, you shot an apologetic glance towards Fred before rushing out of the Hall, suddenly needing some fresh air.

“Look what you did now!” Fred almost growled, before storming out after you, in an attempt to find you.

George took a shaky breath, cursing as he watched the two most important people to him leave.

“George?” A soft voice spoke from beside him.

“Kiara?”

The brunette girl smiled, pressing her lips together as she looked at the ginger, “I um... I think we should break up.”

George frowned, though he was surprised to find he didn’t feel too badly about what she’d said.

The girl held out a black box and placed it into George’s hands, “This should be hers. It’s more her style than mine, I think you know that too.”

The redhead hesitated, unsure of what to say in this situation, “Look, Kiara, I’m sorry-“

“She likes you,” Kiara interrupted him, grinning despite the situation.

“She doesn’t-“

“She does. And you like her. Now go find her.”

With one last hug, and another muttered apology, he nodded determinedly at her, and ran off in the direction of his brother and, he realised now, the girl he truly loved.

***

“Y/n! Wait up!”

You span round on your heels, wiping away a stray tear that had fallen, “I said I’m fine, Fred! Okay? I’m fine. Absolutely fabulous, in fact.”

Fred stopped in front of you, a shimmer of pity in his brown eyes that made you feel even worse than you already did, “I just want to make sure you’re okay. I-I’m sorry-“

“It’s okay, I promise. It was always bound to happen right? I was always destined to fall for him, whilst he fell for her. Even if you hadn’t said anything, I would’ve realised. I’m- I’m so stupid, aren’t I? Falling for my best friend,” you let out a broken sob.

“You’re not stupid.”

Your breath hitched in your throat and you swallowed back another sob as you turned around slowly, your eyes catching George’s gaze.

He stood, hair messy as if he’d raked his hands through it a few too many times, tie askew and shirt almost untucked in his haste to run and find you. He felt his heart clench, knowing he was the one to make you feel like this, and stepped forward reaching a hand out towards you as you blinked back tears, allowing him to bring you into his arms as you finally let the tears fall.

You knew you shouldn’t, that you should leave to your dorm, but being in George’s arms had always made you feel safe, made you feel protected.

More tears fell as he whispered sweet nothings into your ear, muttering over and over again how sorry he was. How he was a fool, a git, a complete idiot.

You finally calmed down a little, looking around the empty hallway, not being sure exactly when Fred had disappeared but thankful for the privacy.

You wiped away the last of your tears, cursing mentally as you realise your makeup would be a mess - if the state of George’s shirt was anything to go by.

“Kiara told me you like- I’m sorry, I didn’t know,” he breathed out, a hand cupping your cheek as you blinked up at him.

“Yeah well, you’re stupid. I always knew you were stupid,” you replied with a sad laugh.

“Why didn’t you tell me?” He asked with a frown, his hands moving to hold your waist.

“You never asked. And then you-you got a girlfriend. What was I supposed to do?” You asked quietly.

“I’m in love with you,” George said suddenly, earnestly, genuinely as he held you against him.

“Not Kiara?”

He shook his head quickly, “She knew I liked you before I knew I liked you. Maybe I am stupid.”

“Maybe you are,” you let out a watery laugh, looking away from his gaze.

George suddenly reached into his pocket and brought out a familiar box, “This is yours. I don’t know what I was thinking, giving it to her. It’s yours - it’s always been yours.”

He opened the box, taking out the necklace you loved so much, and offering you a sheepish smile, “It’s not a good enough apology, I know. But I’m hoping it’s a start.”

He gently turned you around, placing the necklace around your neck, you shivering at the feel of his fingers brushing against your skin, before turning you back around to face him, this time much closer than before, his forehead resting against yours.

“So, and correct me if I’m wrong,” he spoke as he leant forward a little more, his lips almost touching yours, “Does this mean that I like you and you like me and we both don’t think of each other as friends?”

You nodded a little, offering him a soft smile, “I don’t want to be friends, George,” you whispered just as his lips brushed your own, “I wanna be yours.”

#george weasley x reader #george weasley imagine #george weasley imagines #george weasley

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