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nutteu · 1 year

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Snapdragons

[AO3] [moonsea series]

[Snapdragons ∙ Deception, Graciousness]

Steven was a jock. Jake was an outcast. Marc was just along for the ride. Or, the role reversal. [Jake/Steven/Marc; high school au; published 2022-06-12; word count: 8,864]

[warnings: planned homicides, implied torture]

Pretty boys with sweet smiles and a cigarette between their lips would be the death of Jake Lockley. This was written on his face, and Steven was fluent in the language.

Steven Grant, troublemaker extraordinaire, strode towards where Jake was sitting, on the steps of the abandoned science building where people brought their latest conquest to have some clumsy sex at, the place where countless poor bastards got sacked by their bullies, somewhere an outcast would choose because no one would notice him missing, and if they did, they wouldn’t care either.

Steven’s steps were sure, a certain gait in the swing of his hips, purposeful and confident. He had a way of walking: this steady, measured step that made people part their ways for him, yet turning back all the same because he didn’t make it aggressive. He made it look like he was the second coming of Jesus and all these hormonal high school students had no choice but to revere him. Good thing that Jake didn’t believe in all that spiel.

“May I offer you a cigarette?” Steven asked, very polite, with all the arrogance that he would get what he wanted.

Jake merely raised an eyebrow, flicked a glance downwards to the half-burned cigarette he had between the clench of his teeth. It went without saying about the tacked on ‘idiot’. Steven’s smile didn’t waver. Instead, he pulled out a cigarette from his own pack, something more expensive than Jake could ever bother to afford, and pulled out Jake’s cigarette gently.

“This is mine, now,” he said, still with a sweet smile, talking as if he meant something more than the cigarette. Jake was his, now, he meant—because he had noticed the outcast who bore a similar face to him. He liked collecting his unrelated twins, that was for sure. Marc Spector was a prime example.

Jake didn’t say anything, watching Steven bite down on the stolen cigarette. He slipped the expensive one between Jake’s lips, and flicked open a lighter that, also, cost more than Jake could afford. Hell, it probably cost more than Jake’s shoes. This was a little bit surreal, with someone like Steven Grant, who was always surrounded by admirers and needy high school kids hoping for acknowledgment, who walked around as if he owned the world, who looked pretty beyond belief and all the prettier because he seemed to be aware of it.

But the cigarette felt real, and the heat from the lighter washed over Jake’s skin. He let the tip burn, and sucked in a few breaths of nicotine to retain the fire. Steven looked immensely satisfied, like a cat who got the bird, bloody and broken beneath his claws, and sat between Jake’s legs without prompting.

He sucked in another deep breath, before pulling the cigarette away. “What are you doing?”

“What do you think, mate?” Steven asked back, easy and relaxed. “I’m collecting my doppelgangers. Sort of like collecting Pokémon, innit? Saw another familiar face when I went to Greece. I thought I heard him introducing himself as Rydal; went away with this beautiful couple, right? So, I let him go.”

“And what does Marc Spector think about this?”

“Oh, he thinks it’s funny,” came the reply, along with a slight tip of Steven’s head, just enough to reveal the crinkle of his eyes.

Jake scoffed mockingly. “Of course he does,” he said. “He thinks that everything you do is funny. Mindless lamb.”

“Perhaps,” Steven nodded. “But sometimes he thinks that what I do is stupid.”

Just like what he was doing right now, approaching the lone wolf whom everyone gave a wide berth for because of the bruises he came to the school with. But it was a private thought, though the implication was loud enough to echo around them. He looked down as Steven played with his fingers, humming ever so softly on the back of his throat; he had a nice voice. Sometimes, the touch strayed a tad to close to the mottling bruises on his arm, but never close enough. It didn’t spoke of fear, it simply meant that Steven knew that Jake would shove him away and kick him while he was down.

Steven did so poorly in classes that it was only through his father’s money that he didn’t repeat the years. But he was smarter than people gave him the credit for. A sort of sly wickedness that hid beneath the sweet exterior. It had never been a secret that Steven fought around like a mad dog, but it seemed to always come as a surprise to people, because of how he framed himself to be. Something delicate, pretty.

That was the main problem with him, wasn’t it? He was too pretty to ever be held accountable for his actions. Jake looked away from his limp fingers, that didn’t clench back until he crushed the bones of Steven’s wrist. He was guilty of the same sin that these people bore: indulging.

He considered rebelling. But it was futile to run away from Steven Grant, because he had the tenacity of a man in warpath. Arthur Harrow used to be their history teacher, with his greasy smile and soft voice, hair slicked back and a cane always present to support his limping legs. Jake had seen the way he looked at Steven, who batted his long eyelashes at the man. No one talked about it, even the teachers and the school staff, but Jake had heard of how Steven broke Harrow’s other leg, and taped him while he was naked, laughing all the way as he cooed cruelly at the man. Harrow was never seen again after that.

Steven didn’t just get back at someone if they slighted him. He tore them apart until the bones were revealed, and sink his nails into the heart. He didn’t just break someone—he shattered them, and reveled in it.

“He’s not a lamb,” Steven then said after some time, Jake’s cigarette almost nearing its filter on his mouth. “He knows what I did. He just doesn’t care, because he loves me.”

“That’s worse,” Jake pointed out. “He’s a mindless fool in love.”

The boy turned around, placing his palms on Jake’s thighs. They settled heavily, warm and constricting. He looked indecent like this. Staring up at Jake from between his legs, eyes a swirl of dark vortex, thin wisp of smoke framing his face into something sinister. He pulled off the cigarette and threw it to the side without looking away from Jake.

“I like him that way,” Steven said earnestly, squeezing Jake’s thighs. Jake wondered if he did the same thing to Harrow, to Marc; this blatant seduction that felt like danger. The faux submissiveness that clashed horribly with the knowing glint in his eyes.

“And you, what, you love him back?” he sneered, unable to look away from the brush of Steven’s lashes on the skin under his eyes. “Planning to get married right after graduation, Stevie?”

Steven gasped dramatically. “How did you know?” he asked, fake surprise on his face. Then he laughed, and it sounded so jarring, a tinge of hysteria in it. “But you’re actually right. We are planning on doing it, if only to piss off my parents.”

“What are you gonna do when daddy dearest kicks you out, huh?” He pulled away the cigarette, and leaned down. “Spoiled little princess like you won’t be able to survive without all the luxury you’re born with.”

“Envy looks good on you,” Steven replied, his smile took a turn into something dirty, something that made the hormonal teenager in the back of Jake’s head roar to life. He had never claimed that he was immune to nature. “Oh, I know that I still need his money. But I can just kill him, you know? What are people going to do? Imprison me, while I hold all the keys to my family’s wealth? I know the value of my name and how to wield it well, Jake.”

That made Jake pause. Steven wasn’t bluffing; it was apparent in the certainty wafting off of him, the cruelty alight in his dark eyes, the ease he had spoken with. He let out a breath that sounded like a chuckle, then let it morph into a full-blown laughter. He still didn’t move away from the scant inches between them.

“You’re a sick little fuck, Steven,” he spat out, a petty satisfaction coursed through him when a speck of spit landed on Steven’s cheek.

He wasn’t surprised when this cursed boy swiped away at the saliva with the tip of his finger, and put it into his mouth, tongue laving on the single digit as he looked at Jake as if he was daring him to follow where his finger had gone into. Jake didn’t give in—not yet, not so easily. Sure, sweet little Steven could think that he had Jake, now, but he wanted the princess to work for it. Not because he was trying to play hard to get. It was simply because he wanted to see how far Steven could push, how twisted he could get.

“Hey, fucker!”

Jake looked up, but Steven only sighed. “And here I thought they’d never come,” he said, shaking his head ruefully. “Always late to an appointment. Very disappointing.”

He leaned up a little to kiss the underside of Jake’s chin, and left his pack of expensive cigarette and lighter, walking away towards four mean-looking boys a few yards away from them. Steven’s gait was still confident, his shoulders relaxed, his smile charming. Jake leaned back and stomped on the cigarette, taking out another one. These children were going to get beaten close enough to death. He ought to enjoy the show.

He had never seen Steven fought, but sometimes, he heard some boys talking about it in hushed voices in the restroom. Jake would stay inside the stall, smoking away, as they talked about how nasty Steven was, how they should gang up on him instead. They were little cowards who couldn’t swallow the bitter tang of defeat, thinking that numbers could be their strength, when what they were facing against was someone who had long since detached himself from the concept of limitation of what would be considered as too much. You couldn’t win against someone who was prepared to die, and to kill in return, when you didn’t have the same conviction.

Steven cheated, and Jake laughed a little as the little dove brought up a taser, out of all things. He laughed as the boy who got electrocuted screamed, dodging from a fist and dancing away with danger in every step. They traded fists, with Steven looking more and more like an unhinged beast with every hit that he took. When the other three boys were down, and Steven was heaving up breaths, spitting out blood from his mouth, he walked away to pick up a lying branch on the ground, strode back with heavy steps on the overgrown weeds of the abandoned ground.

He beat them with the branch, merciless and glorious in his cruelty. If Jake were to really kick him when he was down, he was sure that Steven would just laugh. Because he himself was inclined to do the same, arms taut as he rained down hit upon hit on the boys. They cried out, screamed until their voices were hoarse, howling as Steven didn’t stop even for a second. He could kill them, and he probably wouldn’t think twice about the consequences, because there wouldn’t be any. Not one that mattered to him, anyway.

When he was out of breath, and the three boys were lying still barred from the soft whimpers of pain, he yanked the last one by the hair. He was the only one without bruises, after he was felled by the taser. It didn’t last long. Steven smiled serenely and bashed the boy’s head to the ground; once, twice, three times before he was satisfied. He let go, and stood up, and Jake thought that that was the end of the show.

But Steven gave him one last entertainment by swinging a harsh kick to the last boy’s head, before he bent down to pick up the fallen taser. He pocketed it back, and skipped cheerily towards Jake. He looked expectant, eyes sparkling, still high on adrenaline and a twisted satisfaction of winning unfairly in a fight. Jake snorted and waved away his hand. Steven slotted back between his legs, sitting two steps below so he could purr into the inside of Jake’s thighs.

Jake wasn’t ashamed to admit that he was half-hard from the display of violence, from Steven’s warm breath on his crotch, from the way Steven arched his back as Jake slipped his fingers through the messy curls, before yanking his head back as far as it could get; his grip tight, unrelenting.

“Not so pretty now, are you?” he said with a smirk, eyeing the bruises on Steven’s face, the blood still staining his teeth red. He looked hideous, and Jake was getting harder still.

“Oi! Don’t say that,” Steven whined. “I’m always pretty.” He glanced down at the now-visible tent in Jake’s pants, and grinned. “I think you agree, too. Or, some part of you, at least.”

“Mouthy,” Jake remarked, lazily dragging his eyes over Steven’s face, to his lips. “You want a reward, don’t you? For giving your new pet a spectacular entertainment?”

“Not necessarily a pet,” the boy corrected. “Like a kept man—kept boy? I’ll treat you well, the way I do to Marc, don’t worry.”

Jake laughed. It didn’t sound kind. “Open up, princess.”

Steven obediently parted his lips, and closed his eyes, shuddering and rubbing his legs together when Jake spat directly onto his lolled out tongue. He swallowed the saliva gratefully, and Jake nearly trembled from how much of a sick fuck this boy was. Someone who had looked so gentle, so delicate, yet so twisted; a walking contradiction that purposefully stumbled into Jake’s life. He didn’t want to know just how long Steven had waited for this moment—to corner Jake alone, to throw himself at his feet like a cheap whore, yet knowing all the same that he had the upper hand regardless of everything.

Jake’s other hand clenched Steven’s jaw, forcing him to open his mouth again, and roughly shoved three fingers in, growling low in his throat when Steven immediately sucked on them enthusiastically. His tongue laved around them; a warm, wet hole that he then tightened with the hollowing of his cheeks. Steven’s hips moved frantically, and it was only then that Jake realized that he was humping Jake’s leg.

“Oh, little dove,” he crooned condescendingly. “Such a desperate, little princess.”

Steven still had the time to nod, to open his eyes and stared at Jake, gaze lidded and lustful. Jake shoved his fingers deeper, the groan Steven made when he choked on them going straight to his groin. He kept them there, fucking into the back of the boy’s mouth and gritted his teeth when Steven let out a pathetic whine, his hips stilling, an obvious wet patch forming on the front of his pants.

His cock was throbbing inside his jeans, but he pulled away his fingers, and wiped the excess saliva on Steven’s cheeks. The boy’s eyes were closed, lashes fluttering as he came down from his orgasm. He leaned his head on Jake’s thigh, panting like a dog, every brush of his nose on Jake’s erection sending electrifying jolts into his veins. He could have Steven’s mouth on him, choking on his dick instead of his fingers; could have him bent over the steps and fuck him dry.

But not yet, not so easily.

He let Steven’s head hit the steps as he got up, adjusting his jeans a little so they wouldn’t press so harshly against his hard cock. He watched as Steven twitch a little, still so sensitive after coming. He looked pathetic, disgraceful. But Jake liked what he saw, nonetheless.

“I’ll see you at lunch tomorrow?” Steven asked without opening his eyes, voice rough and scratchy.

“Not a chance,” Jake said, and left without looking back, his pocket heavy with a pack of expensive cigarette and lighter. He heard Steven’s weak laugh as he walked away.

There was a familiar sound of plates shattering when he arrived at his doorstep. The argument had long since started before he got there. He detoured to the side of the house, sitting against a dying tree as he listened to his parents’ hurling insults at each other. Ungrateful whore, his father growled out, followed by his mother’s choking sound. Disgusting bastard, his mother spat out despite her predicament. Jake took one of Steven’s cigarettes out and waited for the inevitable shatter of a bottle.

When the sound echoed in the house, he let out an exhale of smoke and waited for the slap, the cries, the slam of the front door, and his mother’s wailing.

This was an unchangeable routine in the Lockley household. As was Jake going in and ignoring the shards of glass on the floor, coming into his room which lock could never be used anymore after his father broke it down; as was his mother crying until the evening and regretting her decision of staying, yet unable to leave either because she was in too deep in this mess; as was his father coming home late into the night, and Jake gearing up for his turn to fight.

As was the bruises and the cruel words spat out at him. As was his resignation and mounting hatred.

This was an unchangeable routine.

Steven sat in front of him at lunch, smiling brightly. Jake could almost see the imaginary flowers floating around his face. It sickened him to the bone. He didn’t say anything, and tried to swallow the meager, stale cafeteria lunch while his stomach throbbed from how hard his father had kicked him last night. Motherfucker had worn boots, too. The food rioted in his gut, ready to be thrown back out again. Jake gritted his teeth and swallowed another spoonful.

A packet of painkillers slid on the table, and Steven still smiled so brightly, eyes knowing. Jake stabbed the fork on the table, narrowly missing the boy’s hand. Don’t get too cocky, his gaze said.

“Meet me in the toilet after school?” Steven asked with his usual air of genuine politeness. Jake should have known better—he did know better.

He took the packet of painkillers, and didn’t deign the boy with an answer. Steven left, then, not before he threw a cheery wave at Jake, and waddled towards where Marc was sitting with a scowl, a leftover from their literature exam. His face softened when Steven meandered towards him, a foolish little lamb with affection so obvious in his eyes; parting his legs like an obedient pet so Steven could deposit his tray of food on the table, soon to be forgotten because why would the great Steven Grant ever wanted to consume something so disgusting, and sit on his lap.

There were eyes on them, Jake was aware. Anything that Steven Grant did, it was impossible not to garner some attention from it. No one had approached Jake, no one was brave enough to do so. He didn’t miss the whispers of speculations, because Steven’s voice was soft enough to not be overheard by anyone else. These kids made him sick, made him want to throw the steel tray at their faces. Nosy little things who knew nothing about the world, wouldn’t it only be fair that they had a little taste of it?

He knew that no one would dare to question him or Steven. No one dared to question anything that Steven did. He was right—there was value in his name, and everyone knew that. You didn’t mess with Grant and come out unscathed; you didn’t fuck him up and have your happy, peaceful life still intact. Hannah Jameson tried, once; spread rumors about Steven in hope of blackmailing him into a relationship, a tense friendship at the very least, a step-ladder for her to climb the social hierarchy with. Her father’s business got shutdown in less than a week; her name blacklisted from universities she had applied to. Steven had never held back with his cruelty.

Jake didn’t know why they never got the message, why they kept coming back to Steven with clumsy fists, fumbling with their insults. Perhaps, aside from nurtured ego, there was some part of them that derived masochistic satisfaction for being broken down by someone so revered like Steven Grant. Perhaps, that was the essence of human’s relationship with God. An entity so unreachable that it was only through pain and misery that they could feel the divine presence. Jake thought that there might not be a part of Steven’s life that wasn’t twisted in some ways.

He took the painkillers, two at once, and the food stayed in his stomach. It still ached despite the ice he had put on it this morning. He didn’t care much about his bruised cheek, or the split lip, or the myriad of black and blue when he rolled up his sleeves. He didn’t really care much about anything, had been for years. He forgot the last time that he cried from this, the last time his mother cared, the last time his father came to his bedside, apologizing while Jake pretended to be asleep.

He didn’t think he wanted to remember.

Steven didn’t look at him even once throughout the rest of the day, dedicating all of his attention to Marc, who was clearly bummed about something. Jake’s gut throbbed, this time with something akin to disgust, as everyone turned a blind eye to the way Steven caressed the side of Marc’s face, whispering sweet nothings in his ears. This feeling derived from the hard truth that Steven could continue acting like this, and his life would go on as if nothing was amiss. Even to his adulthood, there would be nothing he couldn’t do—fleeting, trivial matters such as immorality and forbidden boundaries were mere decorations, a forgotten formality.

So, he didn’t come to the restroom after school, and didn’t come back to school for almost a week because he had come home with fury, hitting the back of his father’s head with a baseball bat he had stolen from the gym storage. It was one of the worst fights. His father didn’t come back until three days later, and Jake was bedridden even longer because he was only a nineteen-year-old with wiry muscles and wrath in his blood. It wasn’t enough to beat his father to the ground. The only consolation Jake could get was the limp in the man’s leg after he stabbed it with the broken bottle, the ugly curve of his lips from another slash. He had his own wounds on his arms and back, his mother saying nothing as he tended to them in the kitchen.

I’ll kill you, his father had said, promised. Jake didn’t know whether he was taunting or giving up when he snarled and laughed at the threat.

Steven slid him a name card along with a letter when he returned. It was a doctor appointment. He left with another kiss to the underside of Jake’s jaw when he walked away from the abandoned science building. Jake went to the doctor’s place, because there was no pity in Steven’s eyes. Instead, there was something heated, close to adoration. There was a different kind of promise in the drag of his lips, one that spoke of retribution, and Jake closed his eyes as he held onto that.

He got stitches and a thorough lecture, a recommendation for martial arts class and an exasperated sigh. The doctor didn’t inquire further about where these wounds came from, didn’t ask him personal questions that might hit too close to home—a place where it all began, a place more akin to hell than a home to come back to. This was Steven’s personal doctor, Jake realized, because the middle-aged man mentioned about how tired he was of reckless teenagers with egos larger than that of a God’s. This was a person who knew that young boys sometimes left their home and cut down the emotional ties to their families because there was nothing else left to be salvaged.

Jake didn’t know how to feel about the gentleness in the doctor’s eyes as he handed him numerous packets of medications, ointment for the bruises, antibiotics so the wounds wouldn’t be infected. All paid off in Steven’s name. He left with a small thank you, and went home with a sort of low-thrumming hysteria that, yeah, he was indeed Steven’s pet now, and he was being treated well the way he was promised to.

He also didn’t know how to feel about that.

Steven waited for another two weeks to approach him, and at first, Jake didn’t know the reason why. It was becoming increasingly obvious when he cornered Jake in the restroom, at last. He was rough when he slammed Jake against the wall of the stall, didn’t even bother with closing the door because there was nearly no one else left in the school but stray kids practicing cheerleading and school staff. None of them were here to witness Jake sliding down to the toilet seat, with Steven climbing on his lap and wrenching the front of his shirt so he could pull him up into a searing kiss.

This wasn’t given, but he thought that Steven deserved it nonetheless. A reward for keeping his pet intact and relatively well. Steven Grant really was pretty, he thought as he nipped on the boy’s bottom lip, hard, swallowing his moans that echoed in the restroom. With smooth skin and long lashes, sculpted jaw and soft lips. A kind of classic beauty, with an air of delicacy and fragility that hid a beast with fangs dripping with poison beneath it. It was hard not to be attracted to a face like that. Jake might have had too much of what the world could offer, but he was young, still—hotheaded, a little jaded, drawn to danger like moth to flame, desperate to be burned into ashes.

Steven unclasped his belt with practiced fingers, didn’t waste time to part from Jake’s lips, and swallowed his cock to the root. He was only half-hard before, but Steven’s mouth was warm and tight, and he didn’t even pause to gag when Jake’s cock hit the back of his throat. He vaguely acknowledged that this was the fastest he had ever gotten hard in his short life. He gripped the back of Steven’s head, taking what was so graciously offered to him, and moved his hips without even the slightest consideration to the boy between his legs.

Steven looked good on his knees, the way he had been before. But the sight of his lips stretched thin around Jake’s cock, saliva running down his chin as he kept his mouth open, hiding his teeth, was something incredibly, viscerally beautiful that Jake felt a twinge in his chest. Steven’s clothes were always so neat, undoubtedly made from the best fabric that money could offer, but he was disheveled now, the expensive pants dirtied by the filthy floor of the boy’s restroom. He didn’t seem to mind, and Jake snapped his hips harder, chasing this fast-hard-rough pleasure to its very end.

“You’re good at this, princess,” he commented, affecting an air of nonchalance even as his breath was hitching. “You’ve had experience with cocks, huh. You suck him often, that Marc Spector of yours?” he asked sweetly, keeping Steven’s head buried to his navel, hips swiveling to feel the tight heat of the boy’s throat. “Were you like this, too? On your knees, in a dirty bathroom, uncaring of what people might see, because you want them to see, don’t you, sweetheart? You want them to see you kneeling on the floor like a slut, can’t keep your hands to yourself, always in need of a cock stuffing you full.”

Steven keened high in his throat, and gripped the bare skin of Jake’s thighs until he left crescent marks. There were tears clumping his long lashes as Jake kept him still, coming in gushes down his throat. He swallowed it all without being told to, and Jake felt a pathetic twitch of his cock at the sight before him.

The curls were even messier than they usually were, Steven’s cheeks flushed red from need and breathlessness, eyes shining with tears yet still so defiant, still so arrogant because he knew that he got what he wanted anyway. He chuckled hoarsely as he pulled his cock away from the warm, willing mouth. Steven lapped up at the cum he didn’t get to swallow, cleaning Jake’s soft cock and tucked him in neatly. It felt ridiculously like a business transaction, one that involved too much emotions and personal agenda in the process.

He was hard, Jake realized. He slid the sole of his shoe onto the bulge in Steven’s pants, hearing him moaning low and dropping his head to Jake’s knees, panting hard. He alternated between gentle slide of his shoe, and pressing down harshly until Steven whined his name in a broken voice. It was oddly endearing, that Steven clung onto his hands as he rutted against Jake’s shoe. He looked pretty, even like this, but there was a certain sense in purity in the pure need in his eyes, the way he looked so desperate for release, begging Jake with his tears and the tremble of his reddening lips.

Jake didn’t know how someone could look so sweet when they were mindless with lust, but Steven Grant apparently was able to achieve that. It felt like defiling something good, though he knew that ‘good’ had a twisted meaning in Steven’s dictionary. Because more than the way the boy had sucked him off so eagerly, so filthily, this felt even dirtier than that. Because Steven’s moans were soft and high, the kisses he peppered on Jake’s palm sweet and innocent, the way he called out Jake’s name so earnest and affectionate.

Steven looked so helpless, like this, and Jake had to take a deep breath from the sudden dizziness invading his mind. It was the surge of power, he recognized. The knowledge that someone who could brazenly take on the world, reduced to begging and rutting like a dog in heat, giving Jake the control to do what he liked with this sweet, sadistic boy. It was an ouroboros; a vicious cycle of Steven surrendering control, yet Jake knew, he knew, that he was powerless because this pretty boy with viciousness in his blood had set his sight on him, and heaven and hell would burn before Steven let go.

“Why can’t you just leave me alone, little dove?” he asked, softly, as if afraid of waking up the beast.

Steven looked up, and for a moment, the haze in his eyes cleared to make way for conviction and gentleness. “Because you’ve been left alone for far too long,” he said between his hitching breaths. “So, I’m not going to leave you, like they did. You’re mine, too, remember?”

Jake sucked in a sharp breath, and hauled Steven to his feet by force, backing him up until his head hit the walls with a dull thud, the way he did to Jake earlier. So arrogant, yet so uncompromising in his promises. He would treat Jake well, he said, so he waited; he waited until the wounds healed, until Jake could breathe easily again, until the bruises disappeared. He waited until his beloved pet was alright, before he pounced with sharp claws and the danger slithering around Jake’s throat. This pretty boy was impossible, detestable, so, so fucking full of himself that Jake couldn’t help but let himself be caught.

He yanked Steven’s pants down roughly, callused palm wrapped around the hard cock as he clenched Steven’s jaw with the other. The kiss he bestowed upon the boy was rough, unforgiving, as if Jake was trying to devour him whole. He jerked Steven off with harsh tugs and nails skating on sensitive skin, feeling himself hardening again in his pants from the desperate wails echoing in the stall. There were fingers slipping into his hair, and Steven pushed his tongue into Jake’s mouth, the way he pushed back against him until he was seated back on the toilet.

He wrenched himself away from Jake, and climbed back into his lap, bearing down on his erection as they both moaned in unison from the friction. It was terribly cliché—two teenagers making out and rubbing against each other in the school toilet. But it meant much more than that to Jake. This was a battle that he went into despite knowing his defeat, this was their danse macabre. This was Steven pliant yet unforgivingly cruel in his touch, this was Jake taking everything he could have, this was them entwining in a bond that was created out of some twisted, perverse sense of infatuation and ownership—this was them heading along straight into the depth of hell.

He clenched Steven’s ass in his palms, helping the boy grounded his cleft on top of Jake’s cock, the burn of his underwear and denim making it all the more painful, the more pleasurable. Steven pulled away from the kiss, and sneaked a hand down to stroke his cock, rubbing the tip against Jake’s abdomen. When he came, it was with this low growl and a bite to Jake’s ears; white staining the black shirt. Steven’s hard breathing gradually softened as he let Jake move him the way he needed to.

Curiously, laughably, it was the soft, fleeting kiss on the underside of his chin that tipped him off, coming for the second time in his pants like a fucking virgin. Steven looked like he was well and truly fucked, debauched and reveling in it. But Jake was the one left with mess of bodily fluids upon his person. It felt like some sort of symbolism that he didn’t bother to look into, mind too hazy after the pleasure that had taken him in a suffocating embrace.

Steven smeared the cum on his shirt, with a stupid, shy giggle on his lips. “Come to my house this Sunday,” he whispered, leaning in for a kiss before he left, the door closing behind, at last.

Jake let out a sigh, and stared at the ceiling, wondering just how exactly a pretty little face could ensnare him so quickly in this fucked up mess. He closed his eyes and tried not think about the lingering taste of Steven’s warmth on his tongue.

Steven liked literature and archaeology. He could recite the history of the Egyptian gods with his eyes closed. He smelled like lavender and looked unbearably soft and gentle when he was rumpled from sleep. He held Marc like he was holding the moon. He only ate vegetables and he walked around the huge, fancy house with only Jake’s shirt and a pair of boxers. He liked sweets and he and Marc liked ridiculous, knock-off Indiana Jones movies like Tomb Buster. He pretended that his name was from the main character instead of the one given by his parents.

He was all giggle and shy smiles, stumbling in his steps as he and Marc danced in the kitchen. He held out his hand for Jake and laughed brightly when Jake dipped him as low as possible, before pulling him into an embrace. He couldn’t handle his liquor well, but Marc could, and Jake was more than capable of it, and so Steven chugged down the whisky stolen from his father’s cabinet liquor.

He was all sweet, sinewy lines of muscles as he arched his back, moving so beautifully between Jake and Marc. He curled his fingers around them both and smiled as Jake and Marc absolutely refused to acknowledge each other’s presence. He wanted to be a museum tour guide, but he had all these companies to inherit instead—tragic, he mourned dramatically. He wanted to visit places far away from this town with the three of them. He once had an embarrassing crush on Marc’s ex-girlfriend.

His hands were gentle as they finally traced the bruises and scars on Jake’s body, the same way he did to Marc’s own scars. Jake didn’t want to think that it was heartbreaking how the three of them had wounds from the past all over their skin; each from the person that they thought would protect them, would hold them with tenderness, would love them the way they deserved to be loved. Sometimes, a life was only meant to be a tragedy, and so, they loved their families the way Lucifer revered God, before he was betrayed, and fell down to hell. Their love turned into spite, into hatred, into burning vengeance. It was pathetic and comforting to know that they shared the same history.

Three boys who were bestowed with the same face, who shared the agony of being hurt by the ones they had cared about the most, who inevitably found solace in each other’s arms.

Jake didn’t care about Marc the way that Steven did, but he at least could acknowledge where he came from, and why he chose to follow Steven to the end of the universe, willingly.

“I killed his mother,” Steven whispered when Marc was sleeping fitfully on the bed. “We were fourteen,” he said, voice so soft despite the horrid truth he was baring for Jake to see. He was a warm weight in Jake’s lap, looking for all the world like he was telling a bedtime story with a happy ending apparent from miles away. In a way, Jake supposed that it did have a happy ending, for the two of them. “She hurt him, all because RoRo died. She never looked past the grief to truly see that Marc was just a child, that it couldn’t have been his own will that RoRo drowned that day. She never looked past the anger to truly see that she was sending another one of her children to death’s gate.”

Jake was silent, fingers moving through Steven’s curls. The memory of that day in the abandoned building, of Steven saying so nonchalantly about killing his father, of how fearless and ready he was to prove his words true, they all stemmed from this. Jake wondered if those kids who were never seen again truly did move away, or because the Grants covered Steven’s homicides with their fortune and influence.

Steven laughed then. There was a cruel satisfaction in his eyes when he said, “Slipped in some water hemlock roots to the soup. She thought it was parsnip. I was there when she convulsed on the floor.” He let out a shudder, and cradled Jake’s face. “You should have seen the way she died, Jake. She looked so miserable, but not enough, in my opinion. I had wanted to hurt her the way she hurt Marc, wanted to leave as many scars as she did, but it was pretty fun to watch her struggle, I suppose. She was reaching out for me, thinking that I was Marc. I think it’s pretty poetic that the last thing she would ever see was a stranger with her child’s face, smiling down on her as she was dying. I hope she never forgets, even in hell.”

“You’re going down there, too,” Jake said, but it wasn’t an accusation, just a simple fact that Steven nodded to.

“Then she better run farther, don’t you think?”

He smiled, and Steven looked terribly pleased with that. He swallowed the secret into his lungs as he pulled Steven into a kiss, slow yet firm, tangle of tongues and lips moving in lazy slides against one another. This was another reward, too: for the truth, for staying true to his promise, even years before it all began.

Steven looked good in Jake’s shirt and he grew his own herbs. He had a small library filled with topics that he was interested in, and none of them would help his grades. He killed someone when he was fourteen and he looked serene in his sleep. He kept a blade under his pillow and hoped to stab his father’s heart with it someday. He lockpicked his parents’ bedroom and messed with his mother’s makeup when he was particularly bored and they had been away for too long. He would bring Marc to the end of the universe, and he would take Jake along with them.

He was beautiful, twisted, and all sorts of fucked up in the worst possible way. He was beautiful, gentle, and clumsy whenever he was within the company of people that he cared about. He was beautiful, and Jake was his.

Jake remembered this, remembered all the things about Steven, as his father’s fist collided with his face.

The doctor sighed when he saw Jake on his doorstep, holding a fractured wrist. But he let him inside, and didn’t say anything until Jake was properly taken care of. He gave Jake a bar of chocolate and said that Steven should stop collecting strays and murdering their parents. Jake ate the chocolate and watched a television show with the doctor, well into the evening. He didn’t say how this sterile, clinical place felt more at home than his could ever be.

“Let’s get married after our graduation,” Steven said, eyes twinkling excitedly. “My father would get into cardiac arrest; my mom would weep for years. It’s so exciting!”

“Thought you’re going to marry Marc,” Jake teased with a raise of his eyebrow.

Steven laughed, then. “I can find somewhere where the three of us can get married, silly.”

“I’d rather not being that asshole’s spouse.”

“I had thought that you and Marc would get along well, you know?” Steven sighed out, looking terribly exasperated and fond. “What with you two being all broody and scowling all the time. I guess not.”

Jake sneered, and Marc sneered back at him. They were civil within each other’s presence, at the very least, tolerating as best as they could. He was a little impressed at how Marc had never made a fuss about Steven taking Jake in. He supposed that it came with the acceptance that Steven Grant would never do something that would adhere to the norm. They did bore some similarities, but it was pretty obvious that Marc had never cared about anyone but Steven. It was as well, because Jake could completely return the sentiment.

“Let’s get married anyway,” Steven then continued. “I’ve bought the rings and all. I’m sure I can buy a Rabbi who would be willing to officiate our wedding.”

“That’s not how it works, baby,” Marc sighed from his seat, but he didn’t say no.

“After our graduation,” Steven insisted.

Jake laughed mockingly from his perch on the marble kitchen counter. “If you actually graduate,” he taunted, but he wasn’t saying no, either.

“May I offer you a gift for our graduation?” Steven asked when Jake came to school with a black eye and finger-shaped bruise around his neck.

He chuckled hoarsely; throat terribly sore from his father’s hands nearly crushing his windpipe. “I don’t need your help.”

“No,” Steven agreed, caressing the side of Jake’s face gently. “I didn’t take matters into my own hands because you’re not Marc. You don’t need to be saved. You will save yourself.”

Jake looked up at him through his good eye. There was the same glint in Steven’s eyes with the one in a memory from so long ago, one that spoke of rightful, painful retribution. He looked glorious like that; like a cruel god amongst the bloodbath. He held such certainty and arrogance that were presented as a soft grace on his face. He touched Jake as if he was bestowing a blessing, tainted and wrapped in thorns.

He remembered thinking that it was futile to run away from Steven Grant. He thought that this time, it didn’t only come with inevitability, but unwillingness as well. So, he nodded, and accepted the blessings with palms dripping with blood.

Steven looked serene upon seeing Jake’s acceptance. He looked holy, pure in his gentle affection. He looked like he was ready to burn the world to the ground for Jake. And Jake thought, with an ache in the cradle of his lungs, that he, too, would follow Steven to the end of the universe.

“What are you laughing about?” his father growled out, clenching Jake’s lapel tight between his stubby fingers.

Jake gave him a grin that bespoke of his lack of sanity. “About you,” he said, solemn and certain. “About the day when you’ll lose.”

His father’s anger was burning and encompassing, stifling the whole house until Jake couldn’t breathe. But he smiled, still—remembering the grace in Steven’s steps as he guided Jake to wield the sword he had taken from his father’s room; remembering the way Marc stood tall and strong as Steven caressed Jake’s face, shielding them from people’s curious eyes; remembering the feel of the two of them as they lay bare their carnal desires; remembering the traces of purity in the hopes and dreams they whispered into the night, forever kept as shared secrets between them only.

Steven had wanted to be married in Cairo, Marc in London. Jake couldn’t help the grin on his face when they relented and agreed that they’d get married in Spain.

When he slammed his fist on his father’s gut, he thought of the rings Steven kept in his drawer, and smiled with sincerity in the curve of his lips.

He thought, that the routine had finally changed.

“Happy graduation!” Steven cheered way too loudly, barreling straight into Jake and kissed him smack on the mouth, ignoring his parents’ silent anger entirely. “I’ve booked the tickets to Spain. The villa, too,” he whispered against Jake’s lips. “We’re leaving in two weeks. Enough time for you to enjoy your graduation gift.”

Steven was pulled away for a moment so Marc could kiss him, a stupid little grin on his face after they were separated. Jake looked at them, then thought, what the hell, and grabbed the front of Marc’s impeccable suit to gave him a big, wet, obnoxiously loud kiss. Marc looked ready to send him to an early grave, but the tips of his ears were red, and he didn’t push away until Jake let him go. He felt like they could move on from tentative truce towards something closer to what Steven had wanted.

There were numerous pictures that Steven took of them that day, and he had taken one of the fancy cars from the garage so Jake could drive them around the town, screaming at passersby and hollering to the music they had blasted from the sound system. They all laughed until they were breathless, ate greasy food at Jake’s favorite joint until they barfed, and fucked on the backseat of the car until they ached. Then, Steven gave them each a metal bat, and they bashed the car into ruin before going back to the Grant’s resident so they could fuck loud enough that Steven’s father left the house with a guttural scream and myriad of insult.

It was one of the happiest days in Jake’s memory.

“Do you like it when they scream?” Steven asked sweetly in his ears, arms wrapped around Jake’s middle as he embraced him from behind.

Jake stared at his father, gagged and tied to a metal pole. His blood boiled in trepidation and the sudden, visceral surge of fondness. He didn’t need to be saved, so Steven brought him the bastard who had ruined his life, and told him, save yourself, then, love. There was a sense of euphoria, entwining tightly without a space in between with the old-age vengeance thrumming in his heart.

“Hell yeah,” he answered, nearly breathless.

Marc polished a pair of pliers and calmly walked over, handing them to Jake as Steven whispered, ominous and gentle all at once, “But they don’t need their teeth to scream, do they, now?”

Jake wrapped his fingers around the handles of the pliers, and looked into his father’s terrified eyes. His grin was feral, every nerve coming alive as he trembled. “No,” he found himself whispering back, eyes alight with cruelty and promises of retribution. “They don’t.”

Marc inched closer to place a kiss on his neck, and walked away from the basement of the Grant’s residence, where all of Steven’s questionable and highly illegal purchases were stored in. Steven turned his head to the side and kissed him slow and sweet. His eyes crinkled when he smiled at Jake.

“Enjoy your graduation gift, sweetheart. Have fun,” he said, and walked away, taking Marc’s offered hand as he reached the stairs to the ground floor.

Jake turned back to his father, steps heavy and sure; purposeful and confident, with arrogance and promises of things worse than death in every line of his body—the way that Steven had walked to Jake, towards those fools on that day from a memory that he could never forget in this lifetime and the next.

He pulled off the gag from his father’s mouth, and grinned wider until his cheeks hurt when the man immediately launched into a babble of begging, of please don’t, I’m sorry, I will never do it again, I’m so sorry, please, please don’t, please.

Jake bared his fangs and clenched his father’s jaw so tightly, forcefully opening his mouth, pliers glinting in the bright light of the basement. All his shattered childhood, all his pain and hatred, all his love and disappointment, Jake took them in and let them whisper sweet nothings in his ears, urging him, encouraging him. They sounded like Steven, and Jake let his voice guide his hands, wanting them to be tainted with the blood of a sinner.

“I told you, didn’t I?” he said conversationally. He leaned down, eyes wide and filled with sacrilegious glee. Then he smiled, vicious and merciless. “Hoy te toca perder.”

Steven burned the body and they made a small campfire around it in the backyard. Jake leaned back against Marc’s chest and laughed when the boy grumbled against the skin of his neck, all that shit about the nasty smell of burning flesh. Steven leaned down to kiss him, filthy and loving, and Jake felt at ease for the first time in his life.

The Rabbi visibly trembled under the chuppah of the synagogue. He was sweating bullets, stuttering and stumbling as he read the vows, but Jake didn’t pay him no mind as he looked at Marc and Steven, sleek and beautiful in their white suits. Jake was the only one who wore a black suit. Because it suited him better; because, in a way, he acknowledged that he was a different breed of mongrel amongst the aristocrats like Steven and Marc, and it made their choice to be with him all the more meaningful.

As they slid the rings onto each other’s finger, the Rabbi looked away from them. He couldn’t leave until the ceremony was over, unfortunately. There were only a handful of guests in their wedding, and aside from Steven’s private doctor—who sighed in fond exasperation as they picked him up from the clinic—nearly all of them were the hired guns Steven had cheerily introduced Jake and Marc to on the very first day of their arrival in Spain. They were silent, but the way they moved spoke of danger lurking beneath their calm exterior. Some of them looked fond of Steven, for some reason that Jake didn’t want to think about.

When Marc kissed him, it was firm and unyielding, but it was lined with something akin to love. When Steven kissed him, it was tender and gentle, devotion apparent in his eyes and the cradle of his fingers on Jake’s face. When he stepped back and watch Marc kiss Steven with everything that he had, with love poured out into every slide of lips, he thought of the day when Steven decided that Jake was his.

Jake wasn’t Steven’s—not only. Because, now, he was Jake’s in return, as was Marc.

He thought that pretty boys with sweet smiles and a cigarette between their lips really were the death of him. But when Marc led them both towards another fancy car they’d drive the whole fucking country with, when Steven held Jake’s hand in his, the cold metal of the wedding ring brushing against his skin, he thought that it was alright.

Because in his death, he was reborn. Perhaps, not into something holy; perhaps, he was reborn into an even worse abomination. But, with Steven and Marc by his sides, Jake had never felt more alive than this moment.

#moon knight #shiki writes #from ao3 #moonsea #jakesteven #marcsteven #jakemarcsteven #jake lockley #steven grant #marc spector #high school au

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theshelbyclan · 2 years

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Mine

Summary: When she took a job at the night club, all the second Shelby sister wanted was to be in control of her own life. Unfortunately, her brothers don’t approve

(gif by @tatianapetrovna)

A/N: Okay so this one took me ages, because I spend way too much time researching the history of dance, of prejudice and even old maps and descriptions of 1920’s Birmingham XD All because anon requested: Thura, you wonderful wonderful person. I’ve been saving this request and waiting for your requests to reopen for your talents. Could I please request a Shelby sister where she loves dancing and becomes an exotic dancer at a club, and of course her brothers are horrified when they find out but she manages to convince them that it’s all for her own empowerment Historically, I hope this is all correct, but I put my best woman onto the research as well as I did my own research. There’s no such thing as an exotic dancer yet at that time, or at least the term doesn’t exist, but things like ‘dancing girls’ or ‘the variety’ obviously do exist. These forms of variety were more entertainment for the upper class btw, because they didn’t have to bother with mores as much. You did have different kinds of ‘music hall’ entertainment, a little similar, which was more the working-class entertainment. This wasn’t prostitution, but there were a lot of grey areas. Either way, all women up on the stage, whether they performed half-naked or not, were suspected and accused of prostitution. Legally, the Criminal Law Amendment of 1885, the law that also made ‘gross indecency’ between men punishable, also dealt with sex trafficking and blurred the lines between acting and prostitution even more.

Shelby sis a few years younger than Ada in this, 18, older than Finn, and this takes place around season two. Hope you like this! Words: 3411 ***

Ada’s London home still looked like a vardo, you thought, as you sat on the brightly coloured sofa in het front room. Sure, it was big and fancy, provided to her by Tommy, but half the rooms weren’t being used. The maids’ rooms in the back of the house were simply gathering dust, because Ada couldn’t bear it on her political conscience. And the furniture, well, it wasn’t very different from their interior at Watery Lane: a strange mixture of old items and always a little too colourful and crowded to be properly respectable.

“What?” your sister demanded, reading the deep thoughts on your face. “I like your home,” youquickly said. “Liar,” Ada threw back, “What’s brought you here, then?” You got straight to the point, “I’m sick of Tommy looming over me like I’m still a child. And it’s not just him. John feels he can interfere in whatever I’m doing as well, keeps banging on about me getting married. Even Arthur keeps taps on where I’m going and where I’ve been. I feel like a fucking prisoner in my own house.” “Ah,” Ada said sarcastically, “Welcome to the life of a Shelby woman. Must’ve been nice, being their little princess, but now it’s time to grow up.” “And that’s what I fucking want! I want to be able to make my own way.” “Well, you can’t sweetheart, not while they’re around. Remember I moved to London to get away from them? And here I am: sitting in Tommy Shelby’s fucking house,” she sipped her drink a little too aggressively. You downed yours and sighed, “You got married, Ada. I have no fucking intention of doing that.” “Oh? Why not?” “No one’s good enough.” Ada laughed, “Bravo.” The two of you sat in silence for a while. In many ways, you were very similar. Two sisters, quite close in age, who were Shelby’s without a doubt, but sick of the business. Ada coped with all of it by distancing herself, through sarcasm and aloofness. You had tried to do the same and cursed your Shelby name in silence, but your brothers wouldn’t let you. They were always so protectiveand it irritated you to no end. Even when you decided to buy a dress for yourself, one that you had picked out, it was theirmoney you were spending. “I want out, Ada.” “So get out.” *** Being a woman in the 20’s wasn’t easy. You’d heard talk of women being more liberated now, of fighting for their rights and being able to control their own lives. This may have been the case for rich upper-class women or those without brothers, being able to march in protests, but not when you were a Shelby from Small Heath. As you walked through muddy streets, you saw all those women selling their bodies and you wondered: were they free? Did they choose? Probably not. Not here. At night, you loved to dance. Often, you walked for over an hour to get to a pub or club where your brothers wouldn’t find you. The Shelby name did help you there, it meant they served drinks to a woman alone, but it wasn’t so much about drinking alone. What mattered to you was the feeling of freedom, of going out and a party never seeming to end. Of dancing, dancing and dancing, and no one telling you to stop. And so you walked until you ended up at the club where you wanted to be. Being blessed with the Shelby good looks wasn’t a bad thing either. Outside, you saw the rich and fancy young men lining up. They didn’t have to worry about their reputation, they didn’t even have to worry about getting arrested, because if they were, the judge would simply let them get off with a simple fine, which they would be able to pay easily. “Alright, fella’s!” you called out cheerfully, turning on your best smile. At once, you noticed them checking you out. You made sure you’d put on your best dress and just as easy as that, you were on the arm of one of them, and he happily paid your fee for you to get inside. “Dance with me, sweetheart,” he breathed into your ear, already drunk by the smell of things. Intoxicated by the music and atmosphere, you danced and forgot all about being a Shelby. Drinks were offered to you left and right, so you eventually had to excuse yourself to visit the powder room. Another girl eyed you as you were fixing your lipstick. She asked, a smile playing around her lips, “First time out in ages, love?” “Nah,” you replied, “But it feels like that sometimes. Finally, free again.” The girl laughed and you noticed how absolutely gorgeous she was, pearly white teeth blinking against dark brown skin and a skirt that seemed to sway even when she didn’t move. Immediately, you were envious of her and all that she represented. She said, “You work at the Alex?” The Alexandra Theatre offered many variety acts and you knew your brothers went there on occasion. What really went on in there, you couldn’t be sure, but you were certain they’d never want you to come along. “No,” you sighed, “My brothers would kill me.” “Luckily I don’t have to worry about mine anymore,” the girl replied airily, “All of us girls, we got ourselves a lodging together. The people don’t approve, but we’re free to do as we please.” “I want that,” you said, without even realising you’d spoken out loud.

“Well, you can, sweetheart,” she turned to you, “If you really want it.” “How?” “I know a man who can get you a job at the Hippodrome. I mean, I’ve seen you; you’re good with people and you know how to dance. And if you ever need a place to stay, if your brothers kick you out, you’re always welcome to stay with us.” Everything she said made you feel so excited, but also scared. And then you asked doubtfully, “Why would you help me?” “Oh, I was once a lot like you. You want to get out, right? You want to make your own money and have your own life. Fuck what people will think of you, they’ll judge you no matter what, at least you can decide on this. You decide to dance and who to make eye contact with and who can touch you and most of all, who fuckingcan’t. Men no longer control your body, only you. That’s what you want, isn’t it, sweetheart?” And that was exactly what you wanted. ***

Weeks had gone by and you were managing your double life quite well. Your brothers were busy with doing whatever it was they were doing and Ada kept her mouth shut. She was too busy trying to not be a Shelby anyway. At the club, you’d met the most amazing girls and had finally found likeminded souls. It was as if they belonged to a different era. The idea of girls having so much freedom to work, earn their own money and just have a good time in the process had been mind-blowing to you, but so, so liberating.

At first, you’d only been a background dancer for the different variety acts, but eventually you’d moved up to doing your own acts as well. Your fan-dance was particularly popular amongst the rich student boys. And, truth be told, you loved the attention. You loved being up on the stage, dancing away and being no longer made to cover up. Of course, many wanted more of you than just to watch you, but you still managed to turn them away with just a cheeky laugh or a decisive ‘no’. This was the life for you, you were certain.

Aunt Polly, however, did have her suspicions and one night she straight up told you, “Are you safe, working down at that club?” You’d tried to deny it at first, but there was no point: Polly had seen you exit the club and you quickly realized she knew everything going on in Birmingham. “Take this,” she’d told you and handed you a small revolver, “It’ll fit down your dress.” You’d protested a little, but knew she was right: better safe than sorry. Still, you didn’t plan on living like this forever. Freedom was limited if it meant you had to sneak about in the evenings and lie to everyone you loved. The girl you’d met at the club kept on offering you a room though and you thought seriously about taking her up on her offer. This, however, would force your hand: you’d have to tell your brothers about your work. *** It was a few days after your brothers had had their holiday in London. You’d come home from work late at night and Tommy was sitting there, waiting for you in the kitchen. “And where have you been?” he demanded, darkly. “Out.” He nodded slowly, but kept looking at you, “I have contacts inside the factories, Y/N. They tell me you no longer work there.” Obviously, you’d given up your job at the BSA, because why would you do both? “You always told me there was no need for me to work,” you threw back, “You always said that you’d take care of me.” “I did. But you never wanted that, did you? You wanted to be your own fucking woman.” Head held high, you asked, “What’s wrong with that?” “Nothing,” Tommy shrugged, “If you don’t mind people talking.” “Fuck people.” “Where did you get the coat, Y/N?” he fired next. “I bought it.” But you realised your mistake at once. Tommy smiled coldly, “With what money? There was nothing taken from the safe.” You started fidgeting a little and turned on your heels, planning to make a quick getaway. Your brother continued, “See, me and John and Arthur went to London today. Business. And we went down to the Eden Club, you might have heard of it? And the things I saw there, Y/N… The music and the booze and all those fucking half-naked girls, men fucking them right there in their seats. Nothing but fucking maniacs out there…”

“Get to the point, Tommy.” Tommy’s eyes went dark again and he pointed at you, “They might as well be fucking you.” “I’m not fucking anyone!” you protested. But he slammed a hand down on the table, “I know you’re working at once of those clubs, Y/N, and you tried to keep it a secret, but guess what? Nothing happens in this city without my consent. And you’re not having it.” The same fury you saw in him was rising up in you as well, “You don’t control me, Tommy.” “I do. And you will do as I say.” He whispered venom, “I will discuss this with your brothers, but I can tell you right now, they feel the same. So here it is: you’ll stop working there right fucking now.” “No!” you shouted out, “I fucking won’t!” “I will not have a fucking whorefor a sister!”

That hurt, so you turned around and left. Behind you, you heard Tommy shouting, “You’ll stop, you hear me?” *** But you didn’t stop. You just told the other girls you were sick and had to take off work for a few days. The boss wouldn’t put up with it for much longer though. For another week you kept pretending you had errands to run or friends to meet at night, but your brothers would no longer let you out of their sight. Surprisingly enough, none of them approved. One night, you’d had enough and the warning had come that if you didn’t dance tonight, your job would go to another. So, putting on your best dress, you were planning to leave the house and no one was going to stop you. “Where the fuck do you think you’re going?” Arthur growled from the betting shop. You hadn’t even noticed his presence. “Out.” “Tommy’s told us…” he started. “Yes, I know what he’s told you, alright?” you said without patience, “He told you your sister is a whore who fucks rich men for money, right?” Arthur looked down, but repeated, “You’re not going nowhere.” “Watch me,” you hissed and made your way to the door, but Arthur grabbed your arm before you could leave. At once, you spun around and slapped him, shouting, “Get the fuck off me!” But your brother was the stronger one, raising his voice to drown yours out, trying to calm you down, but to no avail. That’s when John came running, bellowing, “What the fuck is going on here?” “She defied Tommy’s orders, John,” Arthur explained, “She’s still working at that club.” “Fucking orders,really?” you breathed. John sighed, and for a moment you thought he’d side with you, but then he said, “I’ll go and get Tommy.”

“I’m going to be late,” you tried desperately to sound casual, as all three brothers now gathered around you. Tommy smoked emotionless, “And maybe then they’ll fire you instead of you leaving like I fucking told you to.” Roughly, you pulled back your arm from Arthur’s grip, “ And I fucking told you, Thomas, I’m keeping this job. Now, if you don’t want me living here anymore because I’m such a fucking embarrassment to the good Shelby name, I’ll move out!” “Move out to where?” he scoffed. “A friend has a place where I can stay.” “Fine,” he raised his eyebrows, “Go and fucking live with her.” “Thomas,” your aunt had now also joined the party, “Let’s talk about this first.” “There’s nothing to talk about, Aunt Pol,” Arthur said, “It’s all in hand.” “I can see that,” she replied sarcastically, “I’m guessing this is about Y/N’s new job?” John looked at Polly, “You knew about this?” “Of course, I do. Nothing goes on in this house without me knowing about it.” John turned back to you, “Why the fuck would you think you can do that job without any danger?” “Because I have a gun!” Smiling, you held up the weapon that you’d just produced from your garter. “Pol, I decided,” Tommy continued, “She’s not doing it.” “Why!” you called out, exasperated, “Why are you all so against it? I mean, it’s not fucking morals that’s the problem, is it? We’re the Shelby’s! And people already think we’re scum, so who the fuck cares!” “It’s not safe,” John replied at once. And you actually believed his main worry was for your safety. After all, he’d been the one who had wanted to marry Lizzie Stark. The others had all laughed at him. Hell, even you had. And in that very moment, your view of him and that entire situation, which had seemed so funny back then, changed. “It’s not… right,” Arthur protested. You rolled your eyes at that, “You, all of you, all the time, pay for sex. Don’t fucking tell me it’s not right.” “So, that’s what you do, eh?” Tommy asked, “You sell sex.” “No!” “And you somehow think we’d be alright with that,” he continued, voice softening a little bit, “It’s not alright, Y/N.” Polly looked from him to you, and said, “She doesn’t, Tommy. She’s a dancer.” “What’s the fucking difference?” he laughed. “This is the last time I’m going to say this:” you sighed, “I do not fuck men for money!” Three pairs of eyes looked sceptically back at you. “I’m a dancer, like Aunt Polly said. I do the variety on most nights, when they do they sketches about the politicians? I’m a background dancer.” You paused for a moment, “And recently I’ve also been asked to do some solo performances. It’s just me dancing on stage, yes I’m not covered from head to toe, but I’m up on stage. No one can touch me. My body is there to look at, nothing else.” “Your body is there to look at,” Tommy shook his head, cynical smirk playing about his lips. “Yes,” you hissed, “Because whether you like it or not, my body is mine. I fucking decide what I do with it and you know what? I’m fucking beautiful and everyone over there thinks so. And I’m good at dancing, Tommy, I’m actually really fucking good at it. But I dance, because I decide. I can flaunt all of it, because it’s mine.” Arthur still had a very dark expression, “What about after the show. Me and John, we’ve been to the Alex, so we know what the girls do…” “They walk around, chat up the men and sip their drinks while sitting on their laps,” you filled in the blanks, “I know.” “Oh, they do a lot more than that,” John smirked, but he quickly looked down to hide it. “But I don’t.” “Why would you even want to do this?” John looked up, “Why this of all the things you can do?” “Why not?” you threw back, “I’m good at it, I’m making my own money, and for the first time I don’t feel ashamed or scared for being a woman.” Tommy shook his head again, “You’re being exploited, Y/N.” “That’s rich coming from you,” Aunt Polly laughed, “So it’s alright if you go to them, alright for you to exploit them, but not when your sister dances out of her own free will?” “Do we have a man inside?” John asked Tommy, “Like the doorman?” And when tommy nodded, he said, “I’ll talk to him and make sure he looks out for Y/N.” “You’re bloody agreeing to this?!” Arthur shouted. John only shrugged in reply, but when you shared a look with him, you knew he understood.

Arthur opened his mouth again, but you quickly cut him off, “It’s feminism, Arthur, and you wouldn’t understand.” “What the fuck is feminism?” “Exactly.” Now the only one left to deal with was Tommy and he was obviously the most adamant one. Stubborn and angry, he stood there, cigarette against his lips. But he wasn’t the only Shelby who wouldn’t budge when pushed; you could be just as stubborn as he was. “If you hate men looking at me or the idea of them paying for my body, maybe you should reconsider using women like that yourself, Tommy,” you fired. He locked eyes with you, which made you more nervous than anything he could’ve said. Then ground out, “That’s the thing, Y/N, I know men.” “Oh, so do I, Tommy. Better than you do, I’m sure, especially now that I’ve worked this job.” He rolled his eyes. “Listen to me,” you urged, “Because I know you can understand. It’s all just a game, everything I do is a game. I do what I’m good at and I show them what they can’t have, and they fucking pay for it. They pay for what they can’t have, and even you have to be impressed by that. I know how they think, these rich boys at the Hippodrome, and when they think I like them or just talk to them for a second, they’ll give me everything I want. The rich toffs in control? I can play them all. I’m in control, Tommy. I am. They think the girls are easy? Theyare. They don’t buy me and I don’t sell sex. I own them.” A glimpse of something like recognition passed over Tommy’s face and you knew what you said made sense to him. Because in many ways, you weren’t as different. “You think I’m a whore?” you asked, “You really think so?” He looked down and thought about it. Then he said, “Everyone’s a whore. We just sell different parts of ourselves.” “Exactly.” And that’s when you knew he did understand. “Let her go,” Polly said softly after a while. “Fine, you can go,” your brother finally agreed, “But you come to me if there’s any trouble.” With a smile, you nodded. “Also, don’t expect to see us in there,” Arthur grumbled, sounding a little sad that he could no longer come to the club now that his baby sister was working there. Absolutely excited, you sprinted out the door, because you really were running late now. But after about a minute, you came back running inside again. “Now what?” John asked. “I forgot my feathers!” you called out, while thumping up the stairs. “Fucking feathers,” Tommy sighed. And with your most charming smile, you came hurrying back down again, “For my fan-dance!” But none of the brothers really wanted to know. *** Masterlist

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alistairs-raven · 2 years

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Cad Bane: Dark Woods

Next Chapter

Western!AU. Reader gets lost in the woods and runs into a notorious outlaw. I was going to make Reader nonbinary, but I just love when Bane says “Lil’ Lady” too much, so reader is female.

Also on AO3

My friend @stormytitan asked me to write a story for the art she did, and I was happy to oblige. I love dark, spooky stuff.

Rana is the horse I designed for Cad Bane

----

Cold and lost, a young woman tried to make her way through a deep forest. The trees reached so high that she couldn’t tell whether it was day or night. How long had she been trying to find a way out? Hours? Possibly days? She’d been trying to get back home when the woods became less and less familiar and now her only hope was finding someone who could help her.

“HELP!” She called out, putting her hands to her mouth to help amplify her voice. There was no response. “HELP! I’M LOST!!” She tried again, but still there was silence. She had almost given up when a gunshot rang out. The woman turned and headed for the direction of the sound, not caring if they’d be friendly or dangerous. At this point, she was just desperate to not be alone anymore. Her pace quickened as she caught sight of a tall figure and a horse standing by a campsite. “PLEASE! Please, help! I’m lost, I–”

The horse turned to her first, nostrils flared. It was not a typical horse, completely hairless and skeletal looking. But it was the animal’s glowing red eyes that struck fear into the woman and stopped her in her tracks. The man hadn’t turned around, but in his hand he held a smoking revolver and at his feet lay a body. He wore a long duster and a wide brim hat upon his head. She recognized him, anyone around these parts would. The notorious outlaw: Cad Bane.

“I’m sorry! I’m so sorry, sir, I didn’t– I’ll go, I won’t tell anyone.” The woman tried to back out of the deadly situation, but was stopped again as Bane turned to look at her. His glowing, crimson eyes matched his horse and she felt paralyzed under their gaze. To her relief, he holstered his weapon and politely tipped his hat to her.

“Come’ere, Lil’ Lady.” Bane gestured towards the campfire. The woman went to apologize again, hoping he would let her go, but he cut her off with a very firm and assertive “Sit.” Finding herself with little choice, she cautiously went to take a seat by the fire. The horse grew agitated as she came closer, stomping and tossing her head aggressively. Rana, the woman recalled, was the horse’s name. She was a bit infamous herself.

Cad Bane joined her, taking a seat across from her at the fire. His intense eyes peered at her from under his hat. “I wasn’t expectin’ ya so soon.”

“You knew I was coming?” How did he know, and why? She was a nobody who kept to herself, and far from rich. Not someone that would interest a bandit by any means. And she knew for certain that they’d never met.

“Ya don’t remember, do ya? Figures.” Bane straightened and reached into his duster pocket, pulling out a cigarette and a light. He didn’t offer her one, not that she’d want it. She waited patiently as he took his time explaining himself. As they sat in silence, the woman became aware of how close the horse had gotten. She was still angry, her glowing eyes like fire as she stomped and pawed at the ground.

“Easy dere.” Bane’s voice was calm and comforting. It was meant for his horse, but it made the woman feel more relaxed as well. Rana settled and moved away, although her glowing eyes remained locked on the intruder.

“It doesn’t like me?” She wasn’t sure why, as she didn’t pose much of a threat.

“She can’t hurt ya.” Bane reassured her. The woman took this to mean that the horse was clearly obedient and wouldn’t attack unless her master told her to. All the more reason to stay on his good side. The man took a long drag, exhaling smoke that danced around his long face as he threw the cig on the ground and crushed it beneath his heel. “I know dese parts better’den anyone. I’ve seen yer place and I’ve seen you. De loner dat keeps t’herself.

He had only started talking and the woman already didn’t like this story. Yes, she was a loner, which was odd for a woman. But she didn’t care what the townsfolk thought, it’s how she wanted to live. Of course Bane would have heard about her that way, but it was the fact he’d seen her place that terrified her. When had he been there, and how often? She resisted interrupting his tale, eager for him to get on with it.

“Me n’ de sheriff got into an argument in town. Sayin’ he doesn’t take kindly to my kind. MY kind, fweh.” Bane sneered as he recounted, flashing sharp fangs that were illuminated by the light of the fire. “I know how de world works, which is ya take what ya need ‘til someone stops ya. So dats what I did, an’de sheriff formed a posse t’pursue me. Dats when I remembered you, Lil’ Lady. And yer perfectly hidden home.”

The woman’s eyes grew wide and she stood to her feet. “You are on the way there now, aren’t you? That’s why you were waiting for me! Probably to take me hostage so the sheriff won’t hang you from a tree like you deserve!”

“Lil’ Lady… I already found yer place. I was dere.”

“What– no! How?”

“And you were dere. Just as brave and strong as ya’are now.” Cad Bane rose from his seat as well. His glowing eyes stayed on her as he drew his weapon from its holster. “Ya were no match fer me.”

Instinctively, the young woman raised her hands to defend herself, not that it would do her any good. She saw him fire, smelled the gunsmoke and waited for death. But it never came. Opening her eyes, she quickly felt for the hole in her chest and found none. Confused, she took a step back to get away from the man and almost tripped over something solid. The body from earlier? Had it been there the whole time? For the first time she got a good look and saw herself, lifeless on the forest floor.

Cad Bane stepped closer to the campfire, and for the first time she caught sight of cruel, dark marks around his neck. She gasped and looked back up to meet the glow of his crimson eyes. In them she saw the glow of her own.

“Dey thought ya could rest easy now, but really dey only cursed you. Now yer trapped with me, Lil’ Lady.”

“Forever.”

#cad bane #rana #westernau #my writing #stormytitan

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randomshyperson · 3 years

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Wanda Maximoff x Reader - I bet i love you

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

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

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

Words: 13.446 k /// Read on AO3

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

He shrugged, running his hands through his hair.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

//-//

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Non-Reader Pov

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

- I'm just commenting on a joke we…

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

Wanda bites the inside of her cheek, looking forward.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

- What kind of bet?

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Tony sneers and the group laughs with irony.

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

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

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

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

Reader Pov

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

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

- Huh... No?

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

//-//

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

- What? - You then exclaim.

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

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

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

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

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

- I'll pay you.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

The cabin was really very big.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

- Hi, Wanda.

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

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

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

Wanda laughs in surprise, crossing her arms.

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

She jokes and you let out a wry exclamation.

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

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

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

Wanda looks at you with surprise and excitement.

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

The redhead clears her throat afterwards.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

- I will not...

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

//-//

The next day you go skiing.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

- What?

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

She laughs, shaking her head slightly.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Wanda smiles, nodding.

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

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

//-//

On the penultimate day you want to build a snowman.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Wanda smiles, looking away to the cabin.

- Okay.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

- I suppose so.

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

You clear your throat before speaking again.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

//-//

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

- Despite everything what?

Pepper laughs awkwardly, shaking her head.

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

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

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

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

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

//-//

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

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

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

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

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

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

- I prefer to be silent.

Tony laughed at her hostility.

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

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

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

You stand up abruptly as the group laughs.

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

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

Non-Reader Povs

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

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

Pietro let out an irritated exclamation.

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

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

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

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

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

- You're an asshole.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Reader Pov

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

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

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

- Wanda, what are you talking about?

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

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

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

//-//

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

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

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

- In a minute.

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

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

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

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

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

You frown, surprised and annoyed.

- That's bullshit.

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

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

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

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

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

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

- Can I ask you a random question?

- Sure.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

- What? - Wanda asks with amusement.

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

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

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

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

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

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

//-//

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

- I just want to talk to Wanda.

Vision laughed, looking mocking.

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

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

- What are you talking about?

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

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

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

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

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

- I....

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

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

//-//

Your mother told the school that you were sick.

That's how you felt anyway.

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

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

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

- Hi, Nat.

- How are you?

You shrug, and she sighs.

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

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

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

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

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

You laugh, nodding.

- I would probably get beat up in reality.

Nat laughs in agreement.

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

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

- I hate feeling like this too.

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

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

You laugh shyly.

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

- I always am.

//-//

You go back to school the following week.

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

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

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

And so two weeks passed.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

- Nat, Bruce he...

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

- For you? What?

Nat shook her head, looking toward the direction door.

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

- Whoa, what?

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

- I am sorry.

You blinked in surprise, and turned away in irritation.

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

- Please…

But you left right away, bumping into her shoulder.

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

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

When you reached the outer courtyard, you collapsed.

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

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

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

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

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

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

//-//

Bruce did not suffer any serious injuries.

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

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

The week passed quietly after this.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

- Look Pietro...

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

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

- Is that all?

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

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

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

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

//-//

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

- Hi. - You say as he joins you.

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

- I'm not...

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

You blink in surprise and Pietro looks back at you.

- They broke up?

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

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

- Of course not.

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

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

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

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

//-//

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

//-//

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

- Yep.

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

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

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

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

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

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

Wanda turns around in surprise, wiping away tears.

- I just...

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

You laughed lightly, looking at her fondly.

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

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

- Best one.

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

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

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

You smile, nodding.

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

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

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matsbarzal · 3 years

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Could I request fluff #6 with Jack Hughes?

fluff #6. "you've been my best friend for 10 years, why not change it to husband and wife?"

pairing: jack hughes x fem!reader word count: 1.4k

It was always easy to love him. It was easy to love the friendship he initiated all those years ago, and it was even easier to admit your love bore a little deeper when he admitted his feelings were more than friendly about you. A decade long friendship had blossomed into something more, and it was something neither you, nor Jack had any arguments against.

Jack always brought up your ‘friendiversary’, and you couldn’t help but get a laugh out of the pure joy he always bestowed on you every time he mentioned it. The new kid in school accidentally exploding his yogurt tube all over his desk partner was probably one of the funnier ways to begin a lifelong friendship that would eventually blossom into more.

“So, how are we celebrating a whole decade together this year? Should we go get frozen yogurt? Maybe we can make a re-enactment of what happened in middle school? We could make it a whole thing, make a tiktok about it and everything,” you could feel your eyes rolling involuntarily at his words, shooting Jack a glare from across the room.

“We’re not doing anything that involves yogurt.”

“Not even something sexy?” Wigging his eyebrows at you, your hand immediately reached for the pillow beside you to whip at your boyfriend.

“Get your mind out of the gutter, Lil’ Jizzy,” groaning at your words, Jack plopped himself on the couch beside you, instantly pulling you into his side.

Shrugging his shoulders at you, you could see him googling friendiversary ideas out of the corner of your eye. “Babe, we don’t even have to do anything. We could cuddle up and order food and just watch a movie or something, it doesn’t have to be anything special.”

“It’s our ten-year friendiversary, baby. We can’t just do nothing. I’ll figure something out, don’t worry. You’ll love it.”

It would be hard to admit that a trip to Florida in the middle of the season was what you were expecting from Jack. He had practically thrust the tickets into your hand, informing you that you had less than three hours to pack, all while giving you a list of the specific outfits he wanted you to bring.

You knew almost immediately that Jack had definitely not planned the celebration alone, just by the Airbnb that you pulled up in front of. First, you didn’t even realize he knew what an Airbnb was. Second of all, there was no way Jack Hughes had managed to find a place this gorgeous on his own.

Shooting a message to P.K. was your first priority, knowing full well he was the likely culprit behind the gorgeous booking in front of you.

“Okay, so I have a full itinerary. Tonight, we’re just going to chill, relax, get situated, maybe break the house in, you know… the usual stuff,” ending his sentence off with a wink, Jack grabbed your hand and pulled you along behind him.

“Tomorrow we’re going to head out to the marina that I don’t know the exact name of but will figure out and we’re gonna spend most of the day on the water, and then dinner… obviously. Sunday, you have to plan. I’ll pay… but you have to plan.”

Giggling into his ear as you pressed your body closer to his to press a gentle kiss on the nape of his neck, Jack tilted his head to the side with a small grin plastered across his lips.

“Sounds like the perfect weekend, baby. I think we should probably get started on your plans for today.” The grin never left his lips as he whipped around to press them to yours, his body moulding against yours easily.

The next day came quicker than you were expecting, Jack picking out your outfit as you picked his. That was something you both just found easier; there was no one else you would ever let pick your outfit, Jack just… knew you. He knew your style, knew what you did and didn’t like, knew what would fly and what wouldn’t. Small things like that with him were easy, everything was easy when it came to him.

“Well, don’t you look sexy. Damn, I’m so good at picking your fits. Should I quit hockey, maybe get into fashion? You could be my main model, baby.” Laughing as he wrapped you up in his arms with a smile, his happiness infectious.

Shaking your head against his chest, you peaked up at him from between his arms. “I don’t think you should quit your day job, maybe get some pointers before you start making drastic decisions like that. Can’t use you as my future trophy husband if you’re going to up and quit the job that makes you that.”

Pinching your side gently, Jack just smiled as he pulled away and interlocked his fingers with his.

It didn’t take you long to get to the marina in the car he had rented, everyone greeting the both of you politely as they directed you towards the boat Jack had rented for the day. You almost stopped in your tracks when you observed the setup on the boat; a picnic basket set up, non-alcoholic champagne on ice, fairy lights adorning the inside edges of the boat.

“Damn, I didn’t read the fine print when I booked. Just said I wanted the closest setup to an anniversary they could get, guess they went all out,” popping his hip into yours gently with a beam.

“Jack, do you even have your boating license?”

Eyeing the steering wheel with a curious look, you turned towards your boyfriend just in time to see him roll his eyes and glare at you playfully. “No, this place just let a random guy with no boating license rent a boat. Obviously, I have my boating license.”

Rolling your eyes back, you tapped his side as you made your way to the small seat next to the drivers. It only took a few moments to get out from the dock, far enough away that you and Jack could have some privacy without being too far and worrying how you were going to get back.

“Do you remember the first day we met? Other than when I accidentally exploded my yogurt tube all over you? You told me that boys were icky, and all they did was ruin everything,” nodding your head with a loud laugh, you let your mind wander to your first few years with Jack.

“Crazy how things have changed, huh? I remember going home that night and telling my mom I needed to get those stupid yogurt tubes so I could hit them against the desk and do what you did to me, she said no real quick.”

Smiling softly towards you, you could see the love in his eyes the way he looked at you, the softness that crossed his features every time you were on his mind or in his sight. It had been the same look he had given you since you both were fifteen, Jack never having eyes for anyone except you.

Standing up and holding his hand out, you took it and allowed him to pull you from your seat and towards the picnic basket and bottle of champagne.

“It always makes me laugh; I told my mom back when I first moved from Sauga to Michigan that I wasn’t sure how I was going to live without you. She said you’d always be there, even if you weren’t physically there. Pretty sure that was when I realized you were more than just a friend to me, then I moved and wasn’t sure what’d happen. Never really thought we’d get here, honestly.”

Sighing as he sat down, Jack gestured for you to sit in his lap, both of your legs extended out in front of you as he ruffled through the picnic basket beside him.

“I say it a lot, but I’m so glad you sprayed that yogurt all over me. It sucked, but I don’t think we’d be where we are without it,” nodding his head gently as he rested his cheek on the top of your head.

“You know, you’ve been my best friend for ten years, why not just change it to husband and wife?”

Swivelling around to look at him, you almost cried when you saw the little black box in his hand, his eyes glistening at he looked at you. Moving so he was directly on one knee and not sitting, your hands instantly pressed to your mouth.

“I’ve had this thing sitting around since my first season. So, I guess what I’m trying to say here is… I’ve been so grateful for your friendship and your unconditional love these last ten years, so how about we make it forever? Will you marry me?”

You couldn’t contain your body flying towards him, the aggressive nod of your head the only answer he needed.

note: so sorry that this is so late, but i hope you enjoy!! thank you so much for requesting. and yes i did steal mitch marner's proposal idea for this thank u very much simply bc i have reason to believe jack would too

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michiieewrites · 4 years

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THORST COLLAB: Bakugou - Starving till I tasted you

A/N: First: IF YOU’RE UNDER 18, BEGONE FROM MY BLOG SINCE I WRITE MATURE CONTENT!! This one has been sitting in my documents for almost 2 months now. This week inspiration finally struck me once again tho!

This fic is actually a Thorst Collab between my lovely friends & I on Discord. I’m the first one to post mine, so I can’t wait to see what the others will write!

Now.

STRAP ON YOUR SEATBELTS CAUSE THIS MOTHERF!@#$%CKER IS 4.2K+ WORDS LONG

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

If someone told you a year ago that you would have enough money to pay off your student debt, buy your dream apartment, help out your family and friends, move abroad and drive in a ’67 Chevrolet Impala, you would’ve died laughing at the joke.

You told yourself it was stupid, buying that lottery ticket. But here you are; $100.000.000,- on your bank account. A young and now rich Omega in her prime. After making sure you had spend part of it wisely, you made sure to live the rest of your life on interest alone.

The first month had been nice. Decorating your new place, going out for dinner every day, getting a new wardrobe, spoiling yourself silly. You got new nesting materials, softer blankets and bigger pillows. It felt nice. Until it didn’t anymore. It started to feel pointless and empty. You felt like you were becoming one of those people that flaunt their money and that isn’t the type of Omega you are.

So here you are. Sitting in your peach colored dress and a numbered paddle in your hand. Tonight, you attend a charity auction. The charity was a rehabilitation program for criminals who want to get back on the right path.

The auction items aren’t exactly… items. They’re Pro Heroes. People could bid on having a date with some of the most desirable Pro Heroes, Alphas, Betas, Omegas, all of them. Even No. 1 hero Deku and No. 4 hero Red Riot are up for auction, both being Omegas.

One of the last dates are being auctioned and you realize you have been zoning out. Not having bid anything yet, you put up your paddle.

“Going once, going twice… SOLD TO NUMBER 917 FOR TONIGHT’S HIGHEST BID OF $300.000,-! A date with explosion pro hero Ground Zero!”

Oh lord. Yes! You got- wait… You got actually got it? You won a date with Pro Hero Ground Zero. Wasn’t he the one with the explosion quirk? Impressive power and always capturing the villains. What separates him from Deku is his social skills. Or lack thereof, to be more precise. Ground Zero isn’t really the type of hero to stick around the people he saved to see if they’re okay.

On top of all that he’s also an Alpha. Highly sought out by Omegas who want a pup, but not the Alpha. His genes are what people want, not the man himself. His personality also making it harder for people to approach him. And you just won a date with the most desired and aggressive Pro Hero Alpha there is.

“Oi!”

The voice behind you pulled you from your thoughts. The subtle scent of caramelized candy apples caught your attention. You turn around and find a handsome Alpha standing there. Arms crossed, cardinal red eyes watching you and his lips in an almost angry looking pout. This is the man you just bought yourself a date with.

“H-hi!” you manage to stammer out.

With a huff, he places a card on your table. You pick it up and see that it’s a business card from Ground Zero’s agency. At the bottom, writing in sleek handwriting, is a phone number. You look back up at him, ready to ask him why he gave this to you. But he’s already turning around and heading for the exit.

“Just contact me when you wanna plan that date things.”

And just like that, you had Ground Zero’s personal phone number.

~ A few days later ~

You’re sitting at a small booth, sipping on your matcha latte. You were a half hour too early, so you decided it wouldn’t hurt to go ahead and order a drink before Bakugou would arrive. In his very first text he made it clear to call him ‘Bakugou’ and not by his hero name. He said that it would feel too much like an interview otherwise. In return you told him to just call you ‘Y/N’.

After some back and forth texting the last couple of days, you two agreed to meet up at a local coffee shop. Not a lot of people know about this shop. It’s small and the interior looks more like cozy living room than a flashy coffee shop. It was your favorite place to sit down and enjoy a cup of coffee, tea or like right now, matcha latte.

Neither of you had any set plans for the rest of the day. Just kind of going with the flow seemed like the way to go. This would give you the freedom to hopefully have a quiet ‘date’. But you can’t really know that for sure when the person you’re on a date with is a Pro Hero.

The sound of the bell above the front door rings. You look up and see him walk in. Sitting all the way in the back, you can’t even smell him scent. Weren’t Alpha’s supposed to have very strong scents? Maybe he’s on suppressants?

He scans the shop, probably looking for you. His eyes land on you. He walks over and sits across from you. He leans back against the chair and swings his right arm over the arm rest while the left one is resting on the table. His eyes trail down from your face to the drink in your hands.

“I see you couldn’t wait for me to arrive,” he gruffly says.

“Uh-uhm, yeah. Sorry, I was super early. I hope you don’t mind.”

The silence that spreads between you two makes your Omega feel uncomfortable. Something doesn’t feel right and you’re starting to think that the Alpha in front of you truly doesn’t want to do any of this. So, to make it a little more bearable for yourself, you pump out a small amount of calming pheromones. Just to take the edge of this meeting.

Bakugou keeps looking at you. Until he finally picks up the menu card and says: “It’s fine. It’s your day, after all.”

He was right, you figured. But you still wanted him to have a pleasant time today too.

And so the day continues. The conversation isn’t very lengthy or deep. You discuss basic things like work, hobbies, favorite food. After a while the conversation kind of dies down. You suggest you two head out and into town. The man in front of you doesn’t seem overly thrilled about it, but still agrees.

When you go up to the front to pay, you hear him quickly walking up to you. He pulls your arm back. Surprised, you let out a small sound of shock and look up at him. A confused look is on his face and he pulls his hand away from you.

“The heck are you trying to do?”

Confused, you say: “Uh, paying?”

“I see that, but why? Omegas don’t pay when they’re with Alphas.”

Wow. At first you didn’t know how to respond to this remark. True, Omegas usually aren’t the ones paying on dates. In the past an Alpha would go out and hunt for their Omega. Since the hunting days are over and many Omegas work nowadays, treating them on dates are a way to show the Omega they can provide for them.

“Well,” you say as you hand over the money to the Beta barista behind the counter and thank him, “I don’t know about other Omegas, but I’m perfectly capable of paying for drinks too. I can provide just as well as any Alpha.”

You two walk outside and turn left to head into town. You’ve been meaning to go to the bookstore and hopefully find some new reading material. Two birds, one stone, right?

“Tsk, should’ve known a rich Omega like you doesn’t like to be told what to do,” Bakugou mumbles to himself.

You stop in your tracks. What? Was that really what he thought of you? A rich and snobby Omega?

Realizing you’re not walking beside him anymore, Bakugou turns around. Your head is bowed in shame. Normally your scent smells like peaches and hazelnuts, but now it turns into that of rotten fruit. You feel called out. For winning the lottery, for treating this Alpha to some drinks, for basically buying yourself a date with someone who clearly wishes to be anywhere else but here.

Your voice shakes, but you gather all your courage. “I’ll admit I was given a lot more financial freedom recently. And yes, I don’t like being told what to do. I believe everyone should be treated equally, regardless of their second gender. But I have never in my life asked for something. I was taught to work hard, to help people and to help and reward the people that help you.”

You pick up your head and look him straight in the eyes, politely smile and say: “I’m sorry you had to do this. This isn’t really how you planned your day would go. You can go, if you want to.”

As you pass him, determent to still go to the bookstore, you feel a weight being lifted from your heart. It really is unfair to the Alpha to make him go on a date with someone he doesn’t like. Deep down inside your Omega whines sadly. She recognized a good and safe provider in the Alpha, one who isn’t driven by hormones to just get an Omega pregnant. One who isn’t controlled their Alpha status. Too bad his Alpha isn’t interested in the Omega.

“Fuck, crap- wait! Shit!”

The cursing Alpha quickly catches up to you. He stops in front of you, holding up his hands to halt you. “Okay, fuck-just… let me explain.”

You cross your arms at him and wait for him to continue.

“Okay, so… Listen, I’ve been a real dick to you. Not just today, but basically since that charity event when I gave you my card. It was wrong of me assume anything about you. Shit Y/N, you’ve been nothing but nice to me. You don’t mind carrying the cost of a date, you’re not flaunting it around town that you’re spending time with a Pro Hero, you put up with my shitty responses and that isn’t how you should be treated. Or anyone for that matter! You deserve a proper date. So just, maybe I can make it up to you?”

By the end of his apology, Bakugou practically gives you angry puppy eyes in an attempt to ask for forgiveness. He reminds you of an angry Pomeranian. Smiling, you tell him that you forgive him. This day is supposed to be a fun one.

“But! You’ll have to carry the books I’ll buy as a punishment. And just so you know, I always come out with two shopping bags,” you tell him.

Bakugou just grins. “Fine. They’ll probably weigh nothing for me.”

Something in the air changes. A little sniff of your nose helps you identify the change. The scent coming from the Alpha next to you is slightly peaked. You heard that when an Alpha is preening their scents get stronger. You hardly think that’s the reason. Maybe it’s just because he’s in better mood now. Whatever the reason, you find yourself agreeing with your Omega; it’s a very nice scent.

~ An hour and a half later ~

“I’ve never met someone who spends over an hour inside a bookstore!”

“I told you when we came in that it could take a while,” you reply to Bakugou’s complaints.

“You do this with nesting stuff too? You know, blankets and shit,” he asks.

In both his hands, Bakugou is carrying a bag containing close to twenty books you can add to your bookcases back at home. Even underneath the sleeves of his hoodie you can see the muscles of his arms. He’s not as bulky as Pro Heroes Deku and Red Riot, but those muscles are pretty impressive. You bet your money that those thighs could squish a watermelon. You can practically feel the water filling your Omega’s mouth. She wants nothing more than to chomp down on those delicious shoulders. And honestly, you wouldn’t mind that either.

You remember you were asked a question. “I do. How else am I gonna know I made the right choice? All of those blankets and shit, as you put it, go in my nest. I’m at my best with a perfect nest.” A confident smile forms on your face and from the corner of your eye you can see Bakugou looking at you. A small smirk creeps up on his face.

While enjoying our little banter, you both failed to notice the Alpha towards the two of you. Until he opened his mouth. “I bet I can make your nest even better, little Omega.”

The other guy stops right in front of you, completely ignoring the Alpha next to you. You’re shocked and take a step back to create some distance between you again. But the guy doesn’t let up and steps closer again.

“No, now get lost,” you firmly say. This wasn’t the first Alpha-asshole you encountered.

“Awh, why the sour face, baby? Bet I’ll be more fun than the hedgehog here.”

“Oi, asshole! She said to get lost.” The smells of pheromones of two Alphas are dominating the air. The strongest one being the creepy guy, Bakugou’s not so much. You honestly confused on that point. With an Alpha as desirable as Bakugou, you truly expected a stronger scent.

You can’t help but release your own distressed scent. The tension is getting to you. Even other people noticed and are stopping to see how this plays out.

The creep briefly looks at Bakugou before returning his attention on you. “Come on, baby. Ditch this guy and then you and I can have our fun. What do you say?”

He extends his hand to put it on our waist and before you know it, you slap his hand away and punch him in the face. He stumbles back while cupping his now bleeding nose. Screaming in pain and shouting names at you. He’s beyond pissed; punched by a fucking Omega!

The adrenaline is pumping through you and every instinct in your body is telling you to run. Hide. Find an Alpha to protect you. You’re frozen on the spot. Your mind shutting down.

That’s when you feel a hand tugging you away. Your Omega recognizes the person this scent belongs to. Caramel candy apples. Bakugou.

You don’t know where he’s taking you. Your mind still processing things. All you know is to follow. ‘Cause he’ll lead to safety. Alphas keep Omegas safe. Follow. Safety. Alpha.

By the time you get to take in your surroundings, you realize you’re in an office. An office? What are you doing here? You look around and see a wooden desk with a black leather chair. A small bookcase, a closet and a couch with coffee table. A puffy black rug is covering the wooden floor, complimenting the one black wall behind you. The other walls are a tinted orange color.

The scent hanging in this office is… comforting. Soothing. Safe. You’re safe in here.

You’re seated on the couch. Wrapped in something soft. A blanket. A big, fluffy and soft blanket. The scent is even stronger on the blanket. You slowly inhale, imprinting this delicious mix of sweetness. After a couple seconds you finally notice the man next to you. Bakugou grins as he sees your focus shifting to him.

“I take it the blanket is approved,” he jokes.

You slowly nod. This small little cocoon makes you feel less vulnerable. Just like the presence of Bakugou next to you. It feels right. “Where are we?”

“Oh yeah, fuck. We’re at my agency. This is my office.”

You’re confused. “Your office? Why? I’m sorry, I kind of… froze. Can you tell me what happened afterwards?”

The smile that spreads on his face makes you feel funny inside. “What happened?! Y/N, you punched that fucker right in his fucking face! Shithead had it coming, tho. You just beat me to it. Omega or not, you know how to fight.”

You two look at each other and burst out laughing as you think back to that glorious moment. The creep definitely didn’t see your punch coming. It feels good to know the man next to you thinks you’re a decent fighter. He seems to actually be enjoying your company. Maybe he’s one of those people that are careful with who they get comfortable with. It feels good to know he feels like he can relax a bit more around you now.

You jokingly nudge him and say: “I bet I can even take you on, you big grump.”

“Oh yeah?” His eyebrow is raised, grinning with his canines on display. “Prove it then.”

Knowing a challenge when you see one, you keep your eyes fixed on his cardinal ones and slowly lean in closer. Baring your neck to the side in submission to lure in his Alpha. Your Omega is very pleased by the motion. Just as he moves to lean in too, you throw the blanket in his face, grab his neck and shove him down on the ground. Stradling him and jabbing your elbow into his side, pressing your nails into the skin of his neck.

Smiling down at the man below you; “How’s that, Alpha?”

A short lived victory as he snarls and the two of you roll over, with Bakugou keeping you pinned underneath his weight. He may not look like it, but this man weighs a ton!

“If you’re trying to be a worthy opponent, why not call me by my first name? It’s ‘Katsuki’,” he breathes heavily atop of you.

Next to your ear you hear a low grumbling sound. Still seeing this as a playfight you laugh and reach back. Your fingers finding pressure points in his neck, making him let go of you. This gives you the chance to overpower him again and straddle him once more while holding his wrists above his head.

Victorious once again, you look down. Growling and teeth bared, the air around you growing thick. The smell surrounding you hits you like thunder. The caramelized candy apple scent overwhelming your senses. Your eyes travel down to his neck and see something you failed to notice before; gland patches. Patches to block someone’s scent from becoming too noticeable. That’s why the other Alpha smelled so much stronger. But now, now you’re drowning in it. You can pick up on rage, possessiveness and… arousal. As much as he’s growling and snarling at you, you know that he’s enjoying this too.

Chuckling at you, he cranes his neck. His face now closer to you than a moment ago. “I’m pretty sure I just got my ass handed by the most perfect Omega.” His words push through the alarm bells his instincts are sending off. His Alpha is not pleased about being pinned down. But as it takes in the Omega’s scent of peaches and hazelnuts, it can’t help but lie down and surrender itself to this tasty smelling Omega. An Omega that can fight back. An Omega that can hold him close. An Omega worthy of carrying his pups.

His Omega.

Before either can properly get out any words Bakugou has wrestled his hands free and grabs a hold of your hips while your hands pull his face closer and seal the distance between your lips. The taste of sugar coated apples is even stronger on his lips and you can’t get enough of it.

His fingers press deeply in your skin, kneading the flesh. His hips pushing upwards while holding you in place. The low rumbling sound in the back of his throat being accompanied by your mewling. You wanted more of him, your Omega needed more.

The Alpha makes his displeasure heard. You both part to breathe in fresh air. His lidded eyes are on fire and following every movement you make. Your hands slip down to his collarbones and settle on his shoulders. The path of your hands make Bakugou throw back his head. His body is pressing into yours desperately, like he has no control over it anymore. His growling increases in volume.

Through gritted teeth he manages to speak to you. “Fuck, Omega. What are you doing to me?”

Taking a leap of faith, you answer: “I don’t know. All I know right now is that I need capable Alpha to take care of me. Are you that Alpha, Katsuki?”

Before you can even blink, you’re being rolled over again. This time you’ll let him have his way. His hands are sliding their way up to your chest, grabbing the front of your shirt and tearing it apart. You try to protest, but you’re stopped by the warning growl of his Alpha. You lay back down and occupy yourself with running your fingers through his hair. Your gently massage making the Alpha let out a content sound.

Entranced by the man above you, you hardly even notice his onslaught on your clothes. And his own clothes. Getting those replaced will be a worry for later, your Omega decide. All you need to focus on right now is Katsuki. You want this Alpha to mate you and it needs to happen right now, or else your Omega just might perish on the spot.

That’s when you feel it. The hard and heavy feeling of his cock rutting itself against your core. Your body can’t help but react to it and release a good amount of slick. Katsuki’s mouth nipping along your collarbones as your bare you neck in submission. You feel his fangs graze your scent glands and you start to whimper desperately.

“Fuck, Y/N. Keep making those pretty noises,” Katsuki says.

“Yes, Alpha, yes. Just-ah shit! Just fuck me already!” you loudly exclaim.

Now who is Katsuki to deny such a nice plea from such a good Omega?

Wasting no time, he slides himself inside. The stretch making you cry out for more, deeper, more, anything he can give you. You just know you need more. Barely able to hold himself back from ramming himself inside and fucking you like you’re in a heat, he takes his time for your to fully take him in. A sigh of satisfaction leaves you both when he finally does.

Your legs wrap around his waist and try to pull him deeper in. Your fingers curl around his spikey locks and tug harshly to get him moving. Grunting, Katsuki finally complies. Being buried inside you sends him into over-drive. You feel too damn good around him. He feels too good inside you as he sets in a brutal rhythm. You’re pretty sure no other man could ever make you feel this good. No other Alpha could ever please your Omega ever again. Feeling his body slam into yours like his life depends on it is possibly the best feeling in the world. Your lungs are sending out a mix of his name, pleas for more, for him to go faster.

Katsuki can’t help it, he can’t stop himself anymore. He need to do this, he needs you, his Alpha needs to mate your Omega. Give her everything she wants and all that she’ll take. Only the best for his Omega, he will be worthy of giving her pups.

You can feel the base of his cock starting to inflate. His knot. His knot is growing. As soon as you notice, you start to claw at his back. A need filling you till the point you’re almost bursting.

“Alpha! Knot, please- Alpha, knot me- I need- Need your knot, Alpha!” you scream in desperation.

He wants to. Oh, he wants to so badly. But in the back of his mind there’s one braincell left that tells him that now is not the time nor the place. His Omega deserves better.

“You deserve better than to be knotted in my office, Y/N,” he moans, “please give me a chance to give you something better one day. I’ll be the best fucking Alpha there is!”

You love the sound of that. Something better. Somewhere in the future. A future with Katsuki. “Yes, Kastuki! Only you, you’re the only Alpha, please, I’m so cl-“

The moment he sinks his teeth into the flesh just above your collarbone, you’re send into a world of blinding lights and exploding fire. His name keeps falling from your lips. The waves of fire keep pulsing through your body.

The tight grip around him becomes too much for Katsuki. He needs to pull out or else he’ll knot you for sure. When he you keep chanting his name, he pulls out and covers you in thick, long, white streams of his cum. Covering you in his seed, marking you as his in an obscene, but beautiful way.

“Look at you, perfectly covered in my cum,” he pants.

You preen at the compliment. A content scent is released. The smell of a happily fucked Omega. Katsuki could get addicted to this smell.

With the shredded pieces of clothing he cleans you up. He pulls the blanket you discarded earlier over you both as he lies down next to you. Your tired and warm body cuddles closer to him. He drinks in your scent a you purr softly.

“What did you have the blanket for in your office?” you ask with a yawn.

Katsuki looks down at your half-asleep face. A smile forms on his lips as he gently kisses the top of your head.

“I kept it for my future mate.”

Tagged: @reinawritesbnha @thots4daze @hipster-merchant-of-death @aizawascumslut @strawbirb @ravenfeet222 @sailor-manga @yanderart @league-of-villians-headcanons

#bnha #bnha fic #mha fic #bnha bakugou #bakugou katuski x reader #bakugou katsuki #alpha bakugou #alpha bakugou katsuki #alpha bakugou x reader #michiiee writes #bnha smut #bnha a/b/o #omegaverse #bnha omegaverse #bakugou x reader #plus ultra #bakugou fic #bakugou smut

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mochegato · 3 years

Text

Even the Losers

Chapter 5

Chapter 1 Chapter 4

“Not quite the child you expected to be on the front page today, was it?” Lucius commented, falling into step with Bruce as soon as he exited the elevator on their offices’ floor.

Bruce shot him a slight glare. He heavily suspected the receptionist at the front of letting Lucius know he was on his way up so he could stage this ambush. “No, no it was not,” he gritted out. He loved Lucius. He did. But he was not looking forward to discussing this with anyone right now. He needed to talk to Sabine and figure out his next steps. He didn’t have time for teasing or hurt feelings, unless they were Marinette’s or his other children’s.

“Don’t think she expected it either. She was quite distraught when the reporters found her this morning,” Lucius noted calmly.

Bruce stopped and glared full force at him. “Why were you with her this morning?”

Lucius raised an unamused eyebrow at him. “Early morning meeting with her and her friend, Max Kante, the one who actually invented the fabric Ms. Cole tried to take credit for.” He continued walking toward Bruce’s office, not caring whether he caught up or not. If he wanted to be an overbearing ass, they could have a meeting with that tone and Bruce definitely wouldn’t be the one to win.

“Sorry,” Bruce grumbled, catching up to him.

Lucius nodded to let him know he accepted the apology. “She takes after you, you know. I could see how upset she was with the reporters’ questions but she masked it expertly. Seemed to completely shut down those emotions. If I didn’t know you, I might not have known it was all an act. Shut the reporter down without admitting anything too, or lying. Quite smart, that daughter of yours.” Lucius turned toward Bruce as they passed through Bruce’s office doors. “Must get that from her mother,” he teased.

Bruce let out a long breath. “Without a doubt. How was she at the meeting?”

Lucius raised both eyebrows at that question, otherwise not reacting at all. “You haven’t spoken with her yet?”

Bruce focused on his desk as he sat behind it. “I haven’t had the opportunity yet,” he hedged.

Lucius narrowed his eyes slightly but answered the question. “She was brilliant. She is brilliant. She was calm and collected. Engaging and polite. Very insightful. You would never know she had been accosted and almost assaulted a few moments before. Completely professional.”

“What do you mean ‘almost assaulted’?” Bruce growled.

“Particularly aggressive reporter. I gave PR and security his name and picture. We’ll have a restraining order put out and he won’t be allowed at any Wayne events,” he answered calmly.

Bruce squeezed the arm rest on his chair until it fell off in his hand. He let out an annoyed growl and threw it in the garbage. He pushed the intercom on his desk phone, more aggressively than necessary. “I’m going to need a new chair, David.”

He slammed the button again before he had the chance to respond and let out a long deep breath to calm himself. “It’s already started. It hasn’t even been a day.” He shook his head and looked up at Lucius. “Can you see about getting a restraining order for her personally as well, please? And how was the meeting?” Bruce asked.

“It was successful. Mr. Kante seems extremely excited about our contract. He’s looking over it today, but I expect he’ll begin working for us as of next week. I’m still working on your daughter though,” he mused.

Bruce choked and looked back at him. “Excuse me!”

“To work for us,” Lucius tried to disguise the amused glint in his eyes, but not too hard. It was interesting seeing Bruce acting so disconcerted, and not pretending for an audience, actually feeling it. “She helped Mr. Kante develop the fabric and understands how best to show it off. She would be invaluable to have on the project. Hell, she’d be invaluable to have in the company.”

Bruce furrowed his brow in confusion. “I thought Mr. Kante developed the fabric.”

“He did. He definitely figured out how to make it work, but she was a significant help. Her insights and advice were key. She tried to deny it but he kept insisting. Without both of them, there wouldn’t be any fabric. Not to mention she’s the one that discovered Rabler and Cole were stealing ideas. She created the trap and presented the evidence.” Lucius couldn’t keep the proud tone out of his voice.

Bruce’s lips turned up in a wide, proud smile. “Yeah?” Lucius nodded with a proud smile of his own, albeit smaller than Bruce’s. Bruce just stopped himself from saying ‘that’s my girl’ because he wasn’t sure he got to make a statement like that. Not when he hadn’t been involved in bringing her up in any way. But it didn’t stop his chest from puffing up with pride at the knowledge.

She was smart. She was caring. She was creative. She was insightful and brilliant. She was healthy and unscarred. She was everything he hoped she would get to be growing up away from him. He must have done something right. But the idea of having her work next to him like Tim did, getting to see her every day… He smiled at the thought. “How successful do you think you were getting her to agree?”

Lucius hesitated. “Not very,” he admitted slowly. “I don't know the nature of your relationship…” He watched Bruce carefully as he spoke. “… but she seemed to respond positively when I stressed that I wanted her because of her skill, not because of any association with you.”

Bruce looked down and nodded. “There is no relationship. She didn't know.”

“So her being your daughter isn't the reason if you manipulated Candice into looking into her and offer her to the rest of us as a possible designer for the product like it was her own idea?” Lucius raised a disbelieving eyebrow.

“I knew. She didn't,” Bruce admitted.

Lucius nodded in understanding. “Until when?”

“This morning, I imagine,” Bruce sighed.

Lucius raised an eyebrow at him, vividly recalling her behavior at the gala. The way she’d balked at meeting him in his office at WE. The way she’d frozen immediately upon seeing Bruce, all her fire and confidence falling instantaneously. The way she’d been almost begging for a way out from having to spend time with Bruce. “You think she didn’t know before the gala?”

Bruce scrunched his face in indignation. “No. Sabine would have told me if she’d told her.”

Lucius shook his head incredulously. “Alright.” If Bruce wanted to believe that, he wasn’t going to correct him. “So you were going to stay out of it and manipulate everything from behind the scenes? Only exposing your relationship when you felt comfortable with it?” Bruce looked down and nodded.

Lucius narrowed his eyes at him, his gaze suddenly sharp. He tossed the file in his hand onto Bruce’s desk. “I didn’t take you for a coward, Mr. Wayne.”

Bruce sighed as he watched him walk out of the room. His gaze fell on the file Lucius had left behind on his desk, the file on DCD with Marinette’s picture on the front. He pulled the picture off of the file to look closer. He smiled as his mind flashed back to innocent baby eyes blinking back at him. Her eyes hadn’t changed in twenty years. Still the same bright, brilliant, hopeful eyes. His mother’s eyes. He could see it almost as soon as she was born. He could never allow those eyes to be hurt, could never bear to see them in pain, which is all his life seemed to be.

“Then you don’t really know me,” he mumbled as he put the picture back and turned away, his eyes landing on the phone. He took a deep breath and got ready for the conversation he had to have next. He picked up the phone and dialed the number he knew by heart. He squeezed his eyes shut in frustration realizing he had memorized it not because he’d actually dialed it enough to have the muscle memory, but because he’d intentionally committed it to memory.

“That took longer than expected,” Sabine answered on the second ring, annoyance clear in her voice.

Bruce let out a deep sigh. He wasn’t expecting this call to go well, but he needed her help. “I was handling the rest of my family. They didn’t take to the news that they had a sister I never told them about too well.”

“Shocking,” Sabine deadpanned. “And how did Marinette take it?”

Bruce hesitated unsure of how to answer that. “You haven’t spoken with her yet.” The disappointment in her voice was almost palpable. Bruce could almost feel it slapping him across the face and pulling him down to her level.

“I don’t want to mess this up,” he admitted more honestly than he had intended. “More than I have already. I don’t want to drive her away by saying the wrong thing,” he chuckled mirthlessly at himself again, “and we both know that’s absolutely something I would do. I need to know the best way to approach her. What do I need to do?”

Sabine sighed and Bruce could hear her shuffling around until letting out a lighter sigh like she was sitting down. “Well, everything’s going to be pretty raw for her. That’s the first thing. She hasn’t had time to process this. She needs to process in order to know how she wants to respond. If you approach her before she’d had time to process, she’s going to freak out on you or just shut down completely, cold, detached. Did I mention she sometimes takes after you, especially since Hawkmoth?

“But, she tends towards anxiety and overreaction spirals that she has to be brought out of. Her friends are there, so see if she wants them with her whenever you meet. They’ll know how to bring her out of it and calm her down. She might need a few more days before she can meet in person, but don’t wait until then to contact her.”

Bruce nodded, fighting the urge to take notes. That would be inappropriate right? To write down psychological insights into his own daughter? “Yeah, a few hours isn’t all that much time to process,” he agreed absentmindedly, still trying to figure out how many notes would be acceptable. He almost jumped in his seat when Sabine started cackling. He did accidentally ram his arm hard enough to bruise on the point sticking up from the remnants of the broken armrest.

He sputtered until she took pity on him. “You think she’s only known for an hour?”

Bruce paused and stared at the phone, trying to process her words. “You told her?” he was too shocked to be upset yet.

“No,” she answered quickly. “I don’t know how she found out but she knew before today.”

“You think she knew when she planned to come here,” he said incredulously.

“No, definitely not when she first planned it,” she corrected him.

“How can you be so certain?”

Sabine chuckled ruefully. “She's not like us Bruce. She can't lie to save her life. She's terrible at it. She wears her heart on her sleeve. If she knew she was going to see her biological father for the first time, without him expecting it, she would’ve been anxious, fidgety when she told me the plan to go to Gotham. She wasn't. This was all about Max.

“I have no idea what point between last Monday and today she figured it out. But, I can say that she's not answering my calls now. I expected her to call and laugh about it or get anxiety about it because she felt bad for causing you trouble. She didn’t. She asked Adrien to let us know she needs space. So she knew.”

Bruce let out a frustrated groan. “She's upset.”

Sabine took a beat before responding. “I'm not sure since I haven’t gotten to speak to her about it. But, knowing her I’d bet on confused rather than upset. Hurt. Betrayed. Can you blame her?” There was an extended pause while they both tried to process what they knew and how to respond.

After a minute of silence, Sabine spoke up a wry tone to her voice. “You know, she’s always been an extremely cheery child. Wouldn't know she was related to you at all when she was younger,” she laughed lightly, “well, people who bought into your socialite persona might, but nobody that knows you, really knows you and your brooding nature. She always tries to see the best in everyone and bring it out.

“She used to come into the bakery when we had customers and no matter what mood they were in, they would leave smiling. Even the ones in the worst mood would be laughing by the time they left. She just had that effect on people.

“But the one thing she could never stand, that drove her crazy, was a liar. She can’t stand lying and liars.” Her voice suddenly turned sharp and serious. “And she just found out, and not from us,” she emphasized, “that we lied to her about this her whole life and that you never wanted her around but did want other kids around.”

“That is absolutely not the case and you know it,” Bruce roared instantly.

Sabine made a few placating noises. “You know that. And I know that… on some level. But she doesn't.” She stressed. “I have no idea how you’re going to prove it to her now. Because all she sees is that you walked away when she was one and never turned back. Not until the media got involved and forced you to. And she doesn’t even know that much actually. Really all she knows is you walked away. That's what you're going to be up against; her thinking that she is a burden, a prop for you, that all your interest is feigned.”

“Inadequacy issues,” Bruce nodded. Memories of Damian’s first years in the manor flashed through his mind. He shuddered at the memory of Damian trying to kill Dick his first night and trying to kill Tim the first time he saw him, believing he was interfering with his birthright. “But not violent, right?” he asked cautiously. Because if she was anything like Damian, they were going to have to take some precautions, not that Sabine had given him any reason to suspect that. But then again, it would mean she wanted to be part of their family, so that was at least a starting point.

Sabine laughed. “Marinette violent? She’ll rip you to shreds if you touch one of her friends, but verbally. She couldn’t fight her way out of a paper bag.”

Her reassurance made Bruce frown more. That was good… kind of. He didn’t have to worry about her attacking the other kids, not that he was worried about that, really. Nothing he had ever heard about her or seen so far would indicate that was something he needed to be concerned about. But that also mean she had no way of protecting herself if she ever got kidnapped or caught in a rogue attack.

Maybe that was something Damian could help her with. He was an excellent fighter and it was something he greatly enjoyed. He felt at ease when he was practicing or sparring. Maybe that was a way they could bond, Damian sharing something important to him. Bruce immediately grimaced at the idea. There was no way Damian teaching someone with no fighting experience how to fight ended well for either of them. It was more likely to result in a frustrated Damian and a bloodied, bruised, and scared Marinette.

Dick! Dick could teach her, or Tim. Both also excellent fighters and both much more likely to go slowly, easing her into something her body had never been used to. Bruce nodded to himself. Dick would jump at the chance to work with her. And Tim, although less enthusiastic, would be more than willing to help make sure she could protect herself.

Bruce took a breath and focused back on the conversation at hand. “So… go slowly. Ask if she would be okay with meeting first. Give her time to adjust before the meeting. Try to figure out how to reassure her my interest in a relationship with her has nothing to do with the media.” He nodded with a grimace. “That shouldn’t be too hard.”

He could hear Sabine’s reassuring smile through the phone. “As long as she’s had time to process, it should be okay. She’s helped friends go through the same thing. It shouldn’t be too hard once you get past the initial part.”

“Right. I can do this.” Bruce said, more to himself than Sabine.

“And Bruce?” Bruce was immediately tense from the edge in her seemingly sweet voice. “Protect our girl. This is a lot for her all at once.”

Bruce breathed out a relieved sigh. “I will.”

“Because if you don’t, not even Batman will be able to protect you.”

Bruce blinked a few times and opened his mouth only to snap it shut quickly, unsure if he even wanted to figure out if that was a veiled reference or not. After a few seconds he nodded resolutely, deciding it didn’t matter. “I understand.”

“Good day, Bruce,” Sabine said sweetly.

“Good night, Sabine,” Bruce answered with a smile, wondering just how much of her mother Marinette had replicated.

Chapter 6

Tags:

@maribat-bdbwm @jayjayspixiepop @redscarlet95 @alice-hazelwood @deathssilentapproach-blog @unoriginalmess @alyssadeliv @emotionalsupportginger @frieddonutsweets @when-no-wings-do-broomsticks @toodaloo-kangaroo @colorfulmongerpsychicranch @iloontjeboontje @wolf-for-life @maribatserver @aespades @prettylittlebutterflie imarivers8 certainmuffinbagelcalzone

#maribat #bio!dad bruce #bio dad bruce wayne #roynette #Even the Losers #mbdbwm2021 #prompt - memories

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nejiraez · 4 years

Text

date night gone wrong | todobakudeku hc

@remi7k requested: Could you bless us with headcannons of the guys reactions (Bakugou, Shoto, and anyone of your choice) on a date with their S/O and the waiter keeps flirting with her in front of them and it’s pissing them off. Por favor❤️❤️

BAKUGOU KATSUKI

Bakugou doesn’t like eating outside food. He always prefers his cooking over the “processed crap” that fast-food chains and restaurants provide.

So if he were to be taking his S/O out, chances are that he’s not eating shit. He’d much rather watch you eat and be content while he just sips on a glass of water.

So, the one time that this grump is thoughtful enough to bring you out to eat on a date? His patience is tested and by the waiter of all people.

Bakugou doesn’t appreciate the way your server keeps throwing you heart eyes whenever he passes your table. Bakugou’s not stupid, he has eyes just like the average person does and could see how attractive you were.

So the fact that you’d gain a few pairs of eyes on you was nothing out of the norm. However, the fact that someone was doing this so boldly, right in front of him? In front of your B-O-Y-F-R-I-E-N-D?

Either they’re thick-skulled and couldn’t pick up on the fact that you two came here together, alone, on a date, or they were provoking him purposefully.

Either or, it pissed Bakugou the fuck off.

“See?” Bakugou says, nodding his head across the room towards the waiter who kept giving you fleeting glances. “This is why I said we have food at home.”

“Relax, he’s harmless…” You say, nudging your elbow into your boyfriend’s side to shake him from the dirtiest, stank look he was throwing at the server any chance he could get. “He’s just doing his job.”

Oh, but Bakugou doesn’t think so. Not at all. His eyes don’t miss the way the waiter gets all fidget-y whenever he hands you your plate, or how his eyes linger lower than they should be whenever he comes to refill your glass.

Bakugou hates it all.

And God forbid if your waiter tries to flatter you with those “It’s on the house” or “It’s on me” lines when they try to woo you with free dessert.

Bakugou would be quick to snag the pint of ice cream from grasp, shoving a spoonful of the treat into his mouth. “She’s lactose intolerant. So, beat it.”

Knowing damn well you weren’t.

“--Katsuki!”

By the end of it all when he was paying the bill for you (to which he begrudgingly left a tip for, on your behalf and yours alone), he makes sure to take you by the hand, fingers intertwined with yours to say, “Okay, let’s leave, babe. This shit’s got me tired.” Ensuring that the word babe, rolled nice and slow off from the tip of his tongue.

Bakugou asserting his dominance all while being a petty, yet protective, boyfriend. ~

TODOROKI SHOUTO

Honestly, Todoroki’s gonna miss the first few signs that your server may be trying to get with his S/O. But that’s all because this man only has his sights focused on you.

He adores watching how giddy you become whenever your orders come by, or how you urge him to taste some of your food.

“So what’s the event for tonight? You two came down here as friends? Hanging out on a Friday night?” Your server would ask you directly, not really caring for Todoroki’s answer. His back would even be facing your boyfriend every time he swung around.

And that’s when things began to go downhill.

“Oh!” You laugh to dial down the tense atmosphere that had suddenly swirled around your particular booth. Todoroki was still, and you don’t miss the way his jaw tenses at the ‘friends’ title. “We’re actually-”

“I’m her boyfriend, actually,” Todoroki interjects with a clipped tone. He frowns at his food, picking at the plate with an uninterested glare. “We’re together.”

You thought that affirmation would have been enough for the guy to cool it on his flirtatious tendencies, but God no.

“Ah, I can see why!” He casts a playful wink your way, “You’re a very beautiful girl.”

Your eyes bug out at his bold confession and a concerned smile graces your lips, all while Todoroki doesn’t even bother masking the fact of how peeved he is.

Without his knowledge, Todoroki’s quirk is set off and the table is encased in a layer of his glossy, cold ice all from the power of his right hand.

An as soon as your waiter leaves you two to your own devices, Todoroki is quick to act.

He wastes no time in switching seats, to get up from his spot only for him to slide into your side of the booth that he could be seated right next to you. “How irritating.” He’d hiss under his breath, taking a harsh stab at his food.

For the remainder of your date night, Todoroki acts hard-headed, making the job for the waiter ten times harder than it needed to be.

Anytime that the waiter would try to hand you your plate or a new glass, this motherfucker absolutely would not move an inch.

So to get to you, the guy would have to go through him first, quite literally. That, or he’d have to politely ask your stoic boyfriend to move out of the way, to which Shouto would respond with a curt “Hurry on with it.”

You’ve never seen him act so out of character before (which was kinda attractive), the same law-abiding guy that you once knew was now prompting you to engage in a “dine and dash” with him.

To put it short, you two never stepped foot in that restaurant again.

MIDORIYA IZUKU

Midoriya would do the absolute most out of the three to show that you two are dating, as a means to shoo away his competition.

He’s not big on confrontation, if anything, he’d try his damned best to avoid it. So he would probably opt out of the option of telling the waiter directly to “quit hitting on his S/O”.

Rather, Midoriya would always bring up the subject of your next upcoming dates with him, whenever the server so happens to pass by. “So, for our next date, where would you like to go? Anywhere... away from here?”

And he’d play footsies under the table with you to try and induce a laugh to show how much fun you two were having, that, or he’d ask for your hand across the table so he could hold and graze his thumb against the palm of your hand.

He’s very passive-aggressive about this. Making sure that his love for you is being shown but in a very loud and brazen fashion.

Hell, he’ll even step out of his comfort zone and go as far as to ask you to spoon feed him so of your food. “Can- May I try some of your food?”

And if that shit doesn’t work?

“Um, excuse me, but does your restaurant celebrate anniversaries?” Midoriya would question once he’s managed to successfully flag down opposing male to your table. “Because you see, my girlfriend and I are celebrating our second year anniversary today and she was really hoping if you’d put something together for that.”

The way you’d have to bite down on your tongue to hold back the laughter that threatened to bubble out past your lips. Watching Midoriya become all ‘territorial’ over you was one thing, but for him to go to such lengths… and to pin it on you?

Midoriya’s pride swells at the fact that a look of dejection flashes across the server’s face the moment the word “girlfriend” was left to linger through the air.

You’d have to sit and watch as the entire staff and kitchen would come out from the back, bringing you two cake and playing their song to celebrate you both, all while it wasn’t even your damn anniversary.

Midoriya on the other hand was enjoying it all. Flaunting off your relationship with him to scare off potential homewreckers was the highlight of his night out with you.

#bakugou x reader #todoroki x reader #midoriya x reader #bakugou katsuki x reader #todoroki shouto x reader #midoriya izuku x reader #bnha x reader #bnha imagine #bnha headcanons #bakugou katsuki #todoroki shouto #midoriya izuku

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darling-i-read-it · 3 years

Text

Bouquet

Michael Kelso x reader

Word Count: 1.8k

Warnings: michaels reputation

Author’s Note: steven supremacy but kelso could be kinda cute too lmao. I hope you like it love!

Requested: by anon, I'm the anon who requested Kelso x reader. I thought of something like, set in the beginning of s6 after Kelso helps Jackie and Hyde get together the reader being the cool girl in school (around Jackie's age) and she's really smart and has a bubbly/nice personality. She starts hanging out with the group (maybe because of Jackie? Idk she could be her friend first) and despite his reputation, she's friendly to him. He really likes her and hanging around her motivates him to review his attitude. She has feelings for him but does NOT want to fall for him because of all the things the group says about him. He's aware of this, and does everything in his power to prove her he's different.

Endings up to you 🥰

You don't even have to use everything in the prompt, I just really like the idea of him trying to be a better person, and I would like to read about the whole 'Michael wants a girl but the group is blocking him out of worry for their friend so he has to show he's a better person'.

And he's also not my favorite but I think he's super sweet in s3 and s4 and with the right amount of character development could be a thoughtful boyfriend

Thank you so much love ❤❤

Summary: the request

Genre: fluff

I don’t own these characters. They belong to author/director

(not my gif)

Jackie ran up to you before school even ended. She had just gotten this new outfit she was wearing (at lunch because who actually went to school anyway) and wanted to show you. You walked out of your class holding your books tight to your chest, surprised to see a small girl rushing toward you.

“Look at these boots!” she said and squealed a bit. She showed them off to you and you nodded, giving her a flashy smile.

“They look great Jackie!” you said because they really did. You were pretty sure Jackie could pull off anything she wanted to. You started walking to her car together and she flashed the keys, as she often did. They dangled from her fingers.

“I’m going to Formans, you wanna come?” she asked.

“And hang out with your whole group? I don’t know if that’s a great idea Jackie, you all seem pretty close,” you told her honestly. You had seen everyone around school and they seemed nice enough but they were always together. Through Jackie you had found out that they pretty much exclusively dated each other too. You just never thought you would fit in with them.

“They’ll love you! They’ll love you regardless because I love you and I have good taste,” she said, starting her car. You pursed your lips and thought about it for a second. You didn’t wanna be stuck there. You supposed your house wasn’t that far away from Eric’s, you could probably walk if you really needed to. Plus maybe they will like you.

“Okay I guess.”

“Wonderful! Some things you should know,” she started, in her gossipy voice, “don’t mind what Fez says Donna and me just ignore it. If Michael tries to flirt with you, ignore him.”

“I have Michael in my english class, he seems nice,” you said. You knew his reputation and what he had done to Jackie but she was mostly over it.

“Don’t even think about it. I’m not going to let him have his grabby hands all over you. I escaped that and now I’m with Steven thank God,” she muttered. You nodded.

“I’ll keep it in mind.”

=====

When you arrived, Jackie introduced you to everyone there. Overall everyone seemed to like you or they were indifferent to your presence.

Donna told you the second you arrived that if Kelso tried to flirt with you you should ignore him. He wasn’t there the day you went because he had been in detention but you ran into him the next day at school. He sat next to you in english class.

“You’re Y/N right?” he said. You raised an eyebrow. You had assigned seating and you knew he wasn’t assigned to sit next to you. Class hadn’t started yet though so you supposed he had time.

“Yeah,” you said carefully. A dumb smile went over his face and he moved his hair to the side.

“I’m Michael Kelso. I heard you met my friends,” he said.

“Yeah I did,” you said. “They were really nice.” He nodded, that smile still there on his face. You gazed at him for a second, into his eyes. They looked almost completely blank. They reminded you of puppy eyes.

“Yeah they are nice aren’t they.” He looked up at the teacher who was about to get the class started.

“No offense Michael but they all told me I shouldn’t talk to you,” you said, adding a little laugh to try and ease up your words. He nodded.

“I figured. Don’t listen to them though.”

“I want us to be friends.” You put your hand up and he shook it, very happily. “But just know I’ve been warned.” He nodded aggressively .

“Noted!” The teacher pointed at Michael.

“Kelso! Back to your seat.”

=====

“I don’t know why you told her not to talk to me,” Michael said as he sat on the couch arm. He crossed his arms. Donna and Eric were sitting on the couch beside him, Fez on the chair to his left and Hyde and Jackie on the chair to his right. You were sitting on the other couch arm.

“We didn’t say that,” Donna corrected.

“All we said was that if you tried to flirt with her, we would collectively put an end to it,” Eric finished.

“Yeah Kelso man, you can’t flirt with everyone who walks through those doors,” Hyde concurred. Fez smiled.

“Not like me,” Fez said.

“Yeah well that’s just part of your personality,” Donna said, laughing a little bit. Michael opened his mouth in amazement.

“It’s part of my personality too!” he yelled.

“Just face it Michael. You’ve messed with too many,” Jackie said, head held high. You laughed a little bit. Michael turned to you.

“I will get you to like me. Even if I have to be good to do it.” You shrugged.

“Michael-” you started but he cut you off.

“No. I will.” He said. You shook your head a bit and leaned back. Donna looked up at you.

“Don’t worry about it,” she said honestly and you believed her. You had to admit, you had a lot of fun with these people. Guess that was why they were so close all the time.

===

Michael kept his promise that he would get you to like him. He spent the whole week doing small things for you here and there, trying to make sure that you noticed him. Sure, after he gave you the flowers and you thanked him he bragged about how good of a guy he was, but he was really trying.

Michael barged into Eric's basement and almost fell over doing it. He was pleased to see that only Eric was home, watching TV and flipping through a magazine. He looked up at Michael, uninterested and then back at his magazine.

“I think I’m in love,” he whispered. Eric scoffed.

“Didn’t you say that about Jackie?” he asked.

“Maybe.” There was a pause where Michael tried to retain the information but he came up empty. “I don’t know. But I mean it this time.” He sat down aggressively on the chair to the left of Eric. Eric finally closed his magazine and looked up.

“You barely know her.”

“I know her plenty!” he exclaimed. “We have english together and she’s so smart. She’s so nice to me!” He said that last part with a whisper scream. “And she hasn’t given in yet. She’s got stubbornness.”

“Got stubbornness?”

“You know what I mean!” Michael shook his head and Eric saw his expression grow serious which was very very rare in the case of Michael Kelso. “I feel excited when I see her and when she smiles at me it makes my stomach feel…” He put his hands up and waved them aggressively in demonstration. Eric leaned back in his chair.

“Well dang. Never thought I’d see the day.”

“Me neither!” “Do you think she likes you?”

“Not now that you’ve all told her I suck!” Michael shook his head, defeated. “So stupid.” Eric laughed a bit.

“You can’t blame us. If you want her, go and get her.”

===

Michael held a bouquet of flowers in his hand. He had used the last of his money for the week buying them and still wasn’t all that sure if you would like them. He didn’t expect the nerves that came with trying to ask you out. Usually if someone rejected him (which was rare, he liked to point out) he could move on quickly. He didn’t want you to reject him.

He walked into english class and you were already there, sitting at your desk, flipping through the assigned book. He took a deep breath and took the strides over to sit beside you. You looked up at him and gave him a small polite smile.

He took one more breath and then brought the bouquet out from behind his back. Your eyes went wide at the size of it.

“Would you pretty please go on a date with me?” he asked. You took the flowers from him and for a moment was stunned that he had actually asked. The flowers were truly beautiful.

You met his eyes.

“Yes Kelso I will go on a date with you.” He fist bumped the air aggressively and you laughed a bit, trying to ignore that he was making a big scene. He turned to you with a big smile.

“You won’t regret it.”

“You better not make me.”

“Kelso!” The teacher called, pointing his pen at Michael. “Get back to your seat!” they hissed. You laughed a little bit as he shook his head.

“I’m very comfortable right here,” he pointed out.

“Kelso.”

“Alright alright.” He turned to you as he got up. “I’ll see you at Forman’s basement tonight. You nodded.

“Yeah.”

“They’re never gonna believe it.”

“Jackies gonna scream,” you said. He shrugged.

“Let her scream. I think I won this one.”

#michael kelso x reader #michael kelso imagines #that 70s show imagines

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anastasiaskarsgard · 3 years

Text

A/n;So someone asked for smut for the perfect girl that decides she’s gonna have some fun before she dies. I’m A bit rusty. TW: sex, cursing, choking, 18+ NSFW

If you wanna read the first part it’s called perfect problem and is the last thing I wrote on here and posted...

“So where are we going?” Bethany asked as they got into some ridiculously expensive sports car. Adjusting her clothing and hair, she glanced over at Roman to find him just watching her.

Smirking his signature smirk, he turned the car on and raced out of the parking lot like he has stolen the car. “It’s a surprise.” Roman said, wiggling his eyebrows at her.

“Eyes on the road Speed Racer! Ok well at least tell me what we are going to go do.” She whined.

“Nope. No can do princess. You’re just going to have to have a little faith.” He grinned.

“Your reputation doesn’t exactly inspire trust. No offense.” She felt bad as soon as she looked over. He looked almost sad. “I’m just giving you a hard time. I’m not serious.” She lied.

“I thought you were supposed to be smart...”

“Oh ho ho! Someone bounces back quick.”she jibed as she turned to look out the window. She wasn’t exactly familiar with the area so she wasn’t sure what she was looking for. There was trees, and then some houses, and then businesses so there’s no way to tell if they were going somewhere Residential or commercial.

Grabbing her phone to send out some emails, she wasn’t paying attention when she noticed the car had stopped. Looking up from her phone she made an incredulous face at Roman when she noticed that they were in front of a large mansion.

“Really?” She quipped.

“Hey Before you jump to conclusions, I’m just coming here to get into some more comfortable clothes. I can’t exactly have fun in a suit, now can I?” He got out of the car and walked around it to open her door. “You can look around or grab a drink or whatever you like while I change.”

Stepping out of The car, Bethany followed roman inside his home. “ not even gonna try that old give me a tour excuse?”

Scoffing, he shook his head no, and made a crossing motion over his heart. “Scouts honor.”

“What if that’s exactly what I wanted to do?” She breathed out as she made her best attempt at sexy. Licking her lips, and winking, she nearly cried out when all of a sudden he was only inches away from her. “You’re very fast. I hope that’s not true for everything though.”

Smirking, he lifted her up and she wrapped her legs around his waist. Pulling back to look at his face, she bit her bottom lip thoughtfully, as he walked them up to his room. Seeing the insecurity creeping in, He kept an eye open to watch where he was going but smashed his mouth back into hers, in a passionate, breathtaking kiss. Completely losing herself, she was startled when he dropped her on the bed and crawled over her body, pressing himself into her, making his intentions clear.

Sitting up as he straddled her waist, he ripped his shirt off, sending buttons flying, before aggressively attacking her mouth once more. Her nails dug into his bare back and he groaned into her mouth, before kissing down her neck and onto her chest.

Abruptly, he jumped off her and stood over her a moment longer than she assumed it took to take off his pants, so she lifted her head, cocking a brow at him curiously.

“Dress off.” He ordered, his smile fading.

Smiling a Cheshire grin, she shook her head no and looked up at the ceiling. Not letting curiosity get the best of her, she refused to look at him when he huffed impatiently. Even when he had stormed out of the room, and returned a few minutes later, looming over her, she refused to award his bratty behavior.

“Please take your dress off.” He finally bit out.

For a moment She pondered denying him-- and in turn denying herself. But the fact remained, she wanted him, whether contrived or genuine, She did. And She was done not doing what She wanted.

“Stand up.” His voice shocked her out of her head and She found herself standing at the side of the bed. “Good girl.” He purred, his hand brushing her back as he walked behind her and She shivered, as she turned her head to look at him. “Head forward.”

She did so, waiting for him to come back into view and see how far he’d take this little game. When she heard the bed sheets move, she fought the urge to turn around until She felt his fingers on her back, drawing letters or shapes; she wasn’t sure. Roman hummed quietly, lulling her into a peaceful calm, when suddenly he pulled her back into him. He was sitting on the bed, his long legs slightly spread and he spun her around, and placed her straddling over his one naked leg. Somewhere, somehow He’d removed his pants.

Gently he traced up her chest and wrapped one hand in her hair, pulling her forward so he could kiss her neck. Surprisingly, he bit her ... hard. Instead of pain, her senses exploded, causing her to moan wantonly, as she ground her core against his bare thigh.

When his other hand slid down her stomach, She Was almost embarrassed by how wet she had become.

“Stay still…” He said playfully in her ear as he slipped his fingers past the lace covering his goal. Plunging them within her, coating his fingers with her wetness, He gazed into her eyes lustily, as he Brought his fingers to his mouth and sucked them clean. “So ready for me.”

She nodded dumbly, lost in the sinful way his tongue worked around his fingers. Biting her lip, she must of looked pitiful, because Roman dropped character a moment to chuckle and move a piece of hair behind her ear affectionately. Almost lovingly.

Unfortunately she was way too far gone to contemplate what these gestures might mean. She wanted to fuck and she wanted those fingers to go back down there, but this was Roman Godfrey. The man Was unpredictable at best, and uncooperative the rest of the time.

Roman was a predator, and predators like to chase. As much as she wanted to just throw herself at him and demand to fuck her into oblivion, she Still had enough pride to play the game.

“I knew I was right.” He growled, Standing, releasing her hair, so he could wrap his hand around her throat. She grinned, not really caring what he meant. “Now, Im going to fuck you. I’m not going to be gentle, but I’m going to make sure you come so hard that you forget your fucking name.” He smirked cockily, still holding her by the throat. “I can see it in your eyes, that you’re a fucking freak under all that polite perfection. You’ve never fucked up or disappointed anyone ever. You’re loved and respected. Americas sweetheart.... I wonder what they’d all say if they saw you right now, ready to be my little fuck doll, cuz that’s exactly what you are.” Two of his fingers dragged across her cheek, Forcing their way in her mouth. She could taste herself on him and it made her nearly mad with need. She’d never been this turned on in her life. “You have the most perfect lips.” He said as he examined the way they wrapped around his fingers, “I’m going to put so many things in your mouth.”

She sucked briefly, before humming around his digits, lightly biting them. Swiftly, he removed them for a moment, before getting a mischievous look on his face and shoving them in as deep as he could, choking her slightly. Slightly panicked, she reached for his hand, but he just tsked and Tightened his grip on her throat, before ripping his fingers out of her mouth and plunging his tongue in their place.

She really needed to breathe, but eventhough she could feel her limbs growing weak, She didn’t fight him. Completely surrendering to the most arousing experience in her life.

“That’s why I’m going to keep you.” Before She could comment or recover, he removed her dress and threw her down on the bed, standing over her a moment to look her over.

He yanked her underwear down and dove two fingers into her roughly, making her arch her back. His expert fingers were moving faster and faster, getting her closer and closer to the edge of orgasm. It’d been a long time since a man made her orgasm, and she was certain, she’d never come close to this intensity. He reached down and pulled her up by the back of her neck, holding her against him like a rag doll, as he brought her closer. , his thumb brushed over her clit and She opened her mouth, trying not to scream. Her limbs started to shake, as her pelvis started thrusting into his hand, flailing about as Her vision began to blur. She closed her eyes tight, ready for the climax.

“Look at me. Look at who is making you feel this way,” he said seductively.

She breathed, looking into his gorgeous green eyes, as He quickened his pace again and added a third finger, making her buck, as she grabbed his rock hard erection, causing him to hiss, and roll on top of her.

“Patience.” He teased, pushing her legs apart. She looked in between his to see his cock standing hard and long against his stomach, a new need screamed within her, demanding him inside her right fucking now.

“What do you want?” He asked innocently, three fingers diving into her again. She closed her eyes from all the sensations, trying to get control, but she was past the point of pride now.

“Please--” She gasped. “Please.”

“Please what?” He pressed down on her clit and She wanted to kill him, but first had to fuck him. His other hand came down and pinched her nipple, twisting it and making her cry out.

“Fuck!” She screamed as he did the same to the other. “Fuck! Fuck me Roman! Fucking fuck me now or I’m going to kill you!”

He didn’t need to be told twice and She felt the large head of his cock against her entrance, before he just forced it inside her with one powerful thrust.

He was big and it took her body a moment to adjust to him, the burn slowly fading as he gave her a moment to breathe and relax herself to accommodate by far the largest cock she’d ever seen, let alone was inside of her.

Somehow it felt divine when he began to move again, and she moaned loudly, his body pressing down into her as he started to move his hips back and forth. She could feel him driving into her with solid, sure strokes as She clenched around him. His lips crashed into hers again as he pushed his hand under her ass and pulled her hips up, sitting back so he could move at a quicker pace. Setting her nerves on fire. Every inch of her body sang in extreme pleasure. His thrusts massaged her inner walls, the tension roaring through her, as he bottomed out and touched a place she’d never felt before, but the intensity made her screech.

She could feel the tell tale signs of an orgasm swelling through her but She held it back, making it feel sweeter and richer with each passing moment. His fingers dug into hips hard enough to break her bones as he closed his eyes, focusing on his own pleasure. His pace turned more erratic and She gripped him around his torso, desperately trying to hang on so they could both orgasm at the same time. Pulling him down and attempting to hide her face in his throat, he stopped and leaned back looking at her beautiful flushed face.

“Ah--ah-- ah--” He held still. “Look at me.”

She did, letting herself melt into his gaze as he started again, harder and faster than before. Noises came from her, she didn’t know She could make and his hand wrapped around her throat, squeezing possessively. Each thrust sent shockwaves through her until She was right back to nearly cumming.

“Please--” It took effort to speak through his grip, but She was so close, she didn’t care if she had to beg. “Please, I’m so close--”

“Tell me how badly you want it.” He ordered, his own breath ragged.

“I need it-- please! Please, Roman!” She screamed like a desperate, shameless whore, before she exploded, tightening around him as his grip turned to a vice around her neck and somehow the lack of oxygen intensified the sensory overload to a new height. She drowned in the relentless, all encompassing sensations, that lasted far longer than She thought possible-- causing herself to completely release control for the first time in her life.

As the shocks rocked through her, she felt him stiffen and press into her as deep as possible, spending himself inside her. She couldn’t help but trip out a little about being so full of him. She’d never allowed anyone to finish inside her before.

“You really are good at everything,” he said playfully, as he rubbed his nose along hers, and held her a moment, before pulling out, and flopping down beside her. Brushing his fingers along her tight stomach, and full breasts, he decided she was the most beautiful woman he’d ever seen.

His mother was going to fucking hate her...

Perfect.

#bill skarsgard #roman #roman godfrey #my writing #smut #bill skarsgård smut #hemlock grove #perfect

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wanderinginksplot · 3 years

Text

Riye (A Favor) - Alpha-17/f!Reader fic

Previous | Next | Masterlist

Third installment of my Alpha-17/fem!reader fic!

Word-Count: 3,100

Warnings: aggressive flirtation, Alpha is rude.

---

You carefully straightened the neckline of your shirt, eyes on the refresher mirror. It might be silly, but today marked a full month since you had come to Kamino, and you wanted to look your best.

Your outfit had survived the morning, despite a meeting with several Kaminoans who wanted updates on your progress. You had been able to deliver good news - that you were right on schedule - but a sense of doubt overshadowed any triumph you might have felt. The first deadline had been met, but the next one promised to step up the workload, and you were already feeling overwhelmed at the idea.

Still, you were determined to push the negativity out of your mind. You would figure out a better schedule to complete the work later. Today was a celebration.

The bad thing about taking more care with your appearance was that it attracted more attention than usual from the cadets. You had politely turned away two different groups of young men by the time Alpha was due to arrive in the cafeteria. Another cadet - alone, this time - was doing his best to keep from being dismissed as well.

"Was it raining when you came in, ma’am?" he asked, leaning over you. "I have flight drills after this and it gets even more dangerous in the rain."

You did your best not to smile at the obvious way he was hinting about being a pilot. "You know, I think it was raining the last time I was near a window," you told him, voice grave.

"Then I'm going to need some luck to survive," he said dramatically, flashing you a smile he clearly hoped would be charming. "I've heard a kiss from a beautiful woman is a good start. What do you think? It might help me survive the afternoon."

"I wouldn't count on it," a dark voice warned.

The cadet stood as straight as possible as Alpha approached. The captain brushed your new pilot friend aside with a twist of his armored shoulders and sat down. He proceeded to start eating, ignoring the cadet completely.

Any other cadet would have backed away, thankful that Alpha hadn't decided to throw them directly into the oceans of Kamino, but this one was more determined than most.

He winked at you from behind Alpha's head. "By the way, my name is-"

"She doesn't want to know your name," Alpha told him. "Get out of here before I decide that I want to know it."

"Very flattering, Captain," the cadet said cheekily. "But Jango's face isn't the one I want to wake up to, yeah?"

Alpha swallowed his mouthful of food and deliberately set his fork aside, standing slowly from the table. He drew up to his full height before turning around. He was taller than the cadet, forcing the younger man to look up.

"Now I'm extremely interested," Alpha said slowly, his slow and methodical voice dripping with menace. "What's your designation?"

Behind him, you winced. You hated how glaringly obvious it was that the Kaminoans considered these men products. Also, this cadet might die in front of you and that would almost certainly ruin your ability to eat in the cafeteria anymore.

"CT-7115," the cadet said with a grin.

"Ah, part of Zackra Trem's group." Alpha raised his comlink. "Trem."

"Alpha," a female voice returned immediately.

"I've got one of your pilot cadets here in the cafeteria. 7115."

"Broadside," Trem said, clearly recognizing the number. "He's one of my best, Alpha. Don't break him too badly."

"No promises," Alpha replied, turning slightly back toward Broadside. Since you were seated directly behind Alpha, you couldn't see his expression yourself, but it was enough to make Broadside's grin slip for the first time.

"I'll make you a deal," Trem offered. "I'll give him hell here and then send him back to you tonight. I'm sure he could help you demonstrate something unpleasant to your ARCs."

Alpha considered that for a long moment while Broadside shifted uncomfortably. Eventually, he conceded, "That works."

Trem laughed. "Do I even wanna know what he did to you?"

"Harassed an uninterested female."

The laughter emanating from the comlink's speakers cut off abruptly. "In that case, I think we should coordinate punishments. I'll be in touch, Captain."

The transmission cut off suddenly and Alpha looked at Broadside once more. "You had best get to your training, son."

Broadside, looking suddenly concerned, nodded and hurried away. “What was that?” you asked quietly when Alpha had sat down across from you once more.

“I told his superior officer about his behavior.”

“What more than that?” you pressed.

Alpha grinned suddenly, and it was half a snarl. “It just so happens that his superior officer is Zackra Trem. It’s not my story to tell, but she’s got more reason than most to hate that kind of osik behavior.”

You could very well guess the rest of that story. Your heart twisted for Trem, though you had never met her. “I’m sorry to hear that.”

“Nice, but she wouldn’t appreciate the sentiment,” Alpha told you, not unkindly. “Feel sorry for your little pilot. She’s a Weequay who ran with Mandalorians for the past few decades. Whatever she makes him do, it won’t be pleasant.”

You chuckled at that, trying not to actually feel sorry for Broadside. In the time you had been hanging around Alpha, most of the cadets had eased up a bit on flirting, but every now and then, someone crossed the line.

Alpha picked his fork up again and shot you an intense look. “Why are you dressed like that?”

Though your immediate instinct was to be embarrassed about being overdressed, even mildly, you rolled your eyes at him. “Anything looks like too much when everyone else wears uniforms all of the time. Remember that day I wore a necklace?”

“Yeah, I remember,” Alpha said, snorting. “A necklace. What are you, a Senator?”

“Your ideas of fancy clothing are extremely skewed, I hope you know that,” you told him, adjusting your collar again.

“Hazards of the job,” Alpha replied with a casual shrug as he returned his focus to his food. “Looks okay, though.”

You paused, staring openly at him. Had Alpha just complimented you? Surely not… The universe wouldn’t survive such unexpected behavior, not without signs that space was collapsing in on itself.

Alpha noticed you watching him and lifted an eyebrow in question while he chewed. You just shook your head and applied yourself to your own lunch, avoiding his curious eyes. Explaining your thought process there would be an intensive effort, especially if your goal was to keep him from being uncomfortable.

Fortunately, avoiding Alpha’s eyes let you notice the approaching cadet sooner than your companion did, and you had time to brace yourself before the young man - even younger than you were used to seeing - opened his mouth.

“Excuse me-”

“Kriff,” Alpha said loudly, dark brows crashing down over his eyes. “Go away, kid. I’ve already ruined one cadet’s day and I have no problem adding to the list. She doesn’t want to talk to you.”

“N-no, sir, of course not,” the cadet told him, nodding respectfully at you as he went on. “I wanted to talk to you. Is it true you served with General Kenobi?”

"What?" Alpha asked, sounding uncertain for the first time since you had met him. You quirked your brows, unsure of whether to be amused or concerned.

"General Kenobi," the cadet repeated. "And General Skywalker, too! I heard you went on a mission with both of them. What was it like?"

"Look, kid, I don't have time to answer all your questions about Jedi-"

"That's fine!" the cadet told him. "I already know everything there is to know about the Jedi. I want to know more about your experience, specifically."

The muscles in Alpha's jaw flexed and you quickly interrupted. "What's your name?"

"Dogma, ma'am," the cadet told you, making an apologetic face. "I know names are against regulations, but my batchers won't stop calling me that. My designation is CT-4287."

“Nice to meet you, Dogma,” you said politely.

Dogma's cheeks darkened and he gave a tight nod. "You too, ma'am."

"Stop flirting with the poor boy," Alpha chided and you gaped at the captain. So much for trying to help him.

"Dogma, I'm sure Captain Alpha would love to answer any question you have," you told the young cadet, grinning triumphantly at Alpha.

"Wait," Alpha ordered, catching at your wrist before you could stand up. His hand was ridiculously huge and you found yourself shackled by his gentle grip. "You haven't finished eating."

You grinned wider at him, slipping your wrist out from between his fingers. "I'll take it with me. Have fun, you two!"

Dogma gave a half-hearted wave while Alpha glared.

---

The rest of the afternoon was spent locked away in your office, working on the second major project you had to complete. Your concerns about the deadline were unfortunately proving correct. The icy grip of stress and fear were squeezing your heart, and you were honestly relieved when someone knocked on the door of your office.

“One moment!” you called to the unseen visitor, but they didn’t seem to hear you. Instead, they continued to pound on the door until you opened it. You were unsurprised to see Alpha on the other side, glowering down at you.

“You’re mean for a nat-born,” he grumbled, brushing you aside as he pushed into the office.

After letting the door slide closed once more, you followed him over to your desk and plopped down in your chair. Rather than sit in one of the chairs opposite you, Alpha leaned his hip against the side of your desk, much closer than you were comfortable with.

In a show of belligerence, you crossed your arms and lifted your chin as you replied, “Serves you right for being rude about my outfit.”

“I didn’t say anything bad about your clothes!” Alpha denied, befuddled.

“Yeah, well, you didn’t say anything nice about them, either,” you argued childishly, conveniently forgetting his half-compliment at lunch.

Alpha frowned. “You want me to… talk about clothing with you?”

Well. Put that way, it did sound a little silly. Of all of the things you were sure Alpha did well, deep discussions about fashion might be beyond him. Honestly, they might be beyond you, too. You sighed. “No, I don’t want you to talk about clothing with me, but I was trying to look nice today. I put a lot of effort into this.”

“I don’t understand why,” Alpha said. “You look… fine… every other day.”

“Fine,” you repeated dryly. “Thanks, I was going for fine.”

“I don’t understand what I did wrong.” You were able to hear the growing frustration in his voice. “What do you want me to do?”

“Maybe don’t act like I’m wearing a ballgown to work if I show up wearing a necklace!”

“What is a ballgown?”

You stared at Alpha, the simple question making your brain screech to a halt. It was like a chasm had opened between you, and it made you reconsider a few things. Since you had arrived on Kamino, you had treated the clone troopers as if they were people you might meet out in the galaxy, but that wasn’t exactly true. You still believed that they were people - of course you did - but you were only just coming to realize how different they were from anyone you had ever met. While the troopers shared their own experiences on Kamino and had been trained to be perfect soldiers by the time they shipped out, they were startlingly young by the standards of the rest of the galaxy.

“You know what? It doesn’t matter.” You fiddled with one of the many datapads littering your desk rather than meet Alpha’s intense gaze. “I am sorry for siccing Dogma on you, though.”

“You should be,” he growled. “He asked ten questions before I could shake him off. Ten!”

“Wow, that’s what? Five days worth of questions?” you teased.

“Five days for you,” Alpha told you seriously. “For anyone else, that’s more than I would ever answer.”

You were unreasonably touched by the reminder that Alpha let you learn things about him that no one else would ever know. Moved by a sudden surge of warmth for the ARC captain, you repeated your prior sentiment, but more fervently. “In that case, I honestly apologize for unleashing Dogma. If there’s anything I can do to make him back off, please let me know.”

Alpha’s stare was level and unwavering. “Yeah?”

“Of course,” you agreed immediately, not understanding what a wildly stupid idea that was. That was fine - you would learn… and it didn’t take long.

That night at dinner, Alpha came in and sat across from you, but instead of starting the meal in silence, he leaned across the table slightly to get your attention. Lowly, he asked, “Are you still willing to help me with Dogma?”

“Yes,” you agreed simply. “Do you have a plan?”

“Yeah. Flirt with me.”

You fought not to react visibly to that. Carefully keeping your face blank and your voice flat, you replied, “What.”

He leaned even closer, eyes lit with excitement. “I’ve been threatening and trying to alienate Dogma all day, but the only time he was uncomfortable was when you flirted with him.”

“I didn’t flirt with him!” you reminded him. “I just said it was nice to meet him.”

“Fine,” Alpha conceded. “We’ll just have to do better than that if we’re going to convince him to leave me alone.”

Abruptly feeling like this was the worst idea anyone had ever had, you tried to speak in your own defense. “Alpha, I don’t think this is a good idea-”

“You said you would help me,” he reminded firmly. “He’ll be here in a minute. I need your answer.”

Your heart was pounding, one of many warnings that this was a bad idea, but you nodded anyway. Alpha smiled - he actually smiled - and the expression looked menacing on his face. “Good.”

In a moment, he had circled the table to sit beside you, his huge frame making you feel ridiculously tiny in comparison. He wasn't wearing any armor at all now, and you could feel the heat of his skin through what little space there was between you.

You tried not to obviously tense as he spoke next to your ear. "There he is, get ready."

Impossibly, Alpha managed to get closer to you, tugging behind your knee slightly so that you were angled toward him. When he had finished posing you, Alpha’s large hand lifted to cradle your face. His fingers brushed over your cheekbone before trailing down to your jaw.

"My little neverd," he murmured to you, face filled with affection.

You didn't have to feign embarrassment at the warmth in his tone matched with the intense eye contact he was giving you. When you replied, you tried not to sound squeaky but only managed to sound shaky instead. "You know Mando'a is my weakness."

He laughed, a low chuckle that sent delicious chills running over your skin. “Why do you think I use it?”

“Alpha…” you chided, managing to sound mildly flirtatious.

“Come on, little one,” he urged you, voice velvet in a way you hadn’t known it could be. “Let’s go back to your- Ah, one moment, neverd. Dogma, sit down.”

You looked over to see Dogma standing at the other side of the table. You had never even noticed, your entire focus narrowed down to Alpha. Dogma looked as embarrassed as you felt. While you were focused on Dogma, Alpha’s arm snaked around you, pressing against your waist to pull you flush against his side. Your face flamed and Dogma glanced away.

“Sir, I- I’m sorry, I forgot I’m on duty tonight,” Dogma muttered, speaking so quickly it was difficult to understand him.

“Sorry to hear that, cadet,” Alpha replied gravely, flexing his fingers against your side. It made you push a little closer to him in reflex, the tip of your nose brushing the space under his jaw as you tried to look up at him. Alpha shivered, and you weren’t sure how much of the motion was acting. “Maybe later.”

Dogma gave an awkward nod and hurried off.

Alpha started laughing even before he let you go, his muscular chest shaking against your shoulder. After a moment that felt like it had stretched an hour, he pulled his arm back and slid away a bit. You immediately felt the loss of his closeness and suddenly you were horribly uncertain of what expression you were wearing. Just in case it said more than you wanted it to, you looked back at the entrance of the cafeteria.

“I feel bad,” you admitted.

"Don't," Alpha advised, looking toward the door as well. “He’ll be fine. He’s a good soldier, just a little…”

He trailed off, apparently content to let his thought stay incomplete. You glanced over to him with an eyebrow raised, but his eyes were fixed on the door. “You can see every access point in the room from here.”

“That is why I chose this spot,” you agreed.

“Switch with me tomorrow.”

“Not a chance,” you refused. “This is my spot.”

“Then I hope you like sitting next to me,” Alpha told you. Surprised, you laughed up at him and he met your eyes. “You know, I’ve never seen anyone blush on cue.”

“Hidden talent,” you explained vaguely. Alpha didn’t seem convinced, so you changed the subject. “What does neverd mean?”

“Civilian.”

You laughed before you could stop yourself. “Civilian? That’s what you used as a term of endearment?”

Alpha blinked blankly at you. “What’s wrong with it? You are a civilian.”

“Yes, but,” you thought over it for a second, “-it’s not very romantic. Usually, people say things like ‘dear’ or ‘sweetheart’.”

“How should I have known that?” Alpha asked.

It was the ballgown situation all over again, and more than you were willing to tackle that day. “Well, some warning before you want me to go undercover would be helpful.”

Alpha snorted. “How much warning do you need?”

You pretended to consider that for a moment. “Two business days, minimum.”

He frowned fiercely. “If you get two full days of warning, I expect more. I need you to show up in a disguise with three different accents ready.”

“Harsh terms,” you told him with a smile. “With those negotiation skills, you’d make a great senator."

Alpha gave you the darkest scowl you had ever seen him muster. “Watch it, neverd.”

Idly, you wondered if Alpha would protect you from himself, but the amused glimmer in his dark eyes told you it would be unnecessary.

---

A/N - Pretty sure Broadside is wildly OOC, my bad. Also, sorry for the weird image for this chapter. I didn't really want the text bubbles in there, but I needed to keep Alpha's sassy hip lean.

Taglist - @imabeautifulbutterfly @cagrame @mysticalturtleenthusiast @marvel-starwars-nerd @lackofhonor

#star wars #star wars fic #star wars fanfiction #star wars the clone wars #prequel era #reader insert #alpha 17 #alpha 17 fic #alpha 17 x you #alpha 17 x reader #star wars reader insert #clone trooper dogma #dogma #captain alpha 17 #broadside #clone troopers deserve better #more to come #gar cabur #Gar Cabur

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