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shadowtriovibes · 1 year

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take my hand

Pairing: Ominis Gaunt x f!MC

Word Count: 3.8k

Rating: E

Warnings: 18+, aged-up characters, explicit sexual content, references to consensual sex between minors, loss of virginity, oral sex (f receiving), unprotected PIV sex

Summary: Ominis lets you know he’s ready to go all the way with you, and you quickly realize he likes being told what to do (a.k.a. my “sub-inis” response fic to #dominis)

"That should work, right?" you murmur, stepping closer to him so you can unsubtly press your chest against his and drape your arms around his shoulders. "I know you’re clever, Ominis. I can tell you how to touch me, and you’ll do it?" "Yes," he breathes, quickly stealing a kiss and letting his hands shift all the way down to the curves of your ass. He’ll have to learn by touch, you think. Or maybe even by taste. You have absolutely no problem with that.

Ominis Gaunt is simply going to drive you mad.

For several happy, lovely months you've called the young man your classmates jokingly referred to as “Slytherin’s most eligible bachelor” your love. You’ve kissed his plush lips, memorized the sharp lines of his cheekbones with the tips of your fingers, and even draped your legs across his lap while you curled up together in a secluded corner of the Slytherin common room to study.

…Actually study, of course. Because, unfortunately, he’s kind of a tease.

In fact, the real reason he’d garnered his cheeky nickname? Not one of the girls in your year had gotten anywhere near Ominis’ bed, which, by your seventh year at Hogwarts, was admittedly uncommon.

Even when you started bringing him to the Room of Requirement for some additional privacy, hoping to tempt him into some of those intimacies you know he’s never experienced with anyone else, he’s been a perfect gentleman.

Sure, by now you’ve spent many wonderful nights tangled in the sheets with him, kissing him breathless and letting your hands roam as far as you can get away with. But Ominis wants to “take things slowly,” and you respect that.

(You’re slowly going feral over it, but you respect it.)

He takes you completely by surprise one evening when he tells you that he’s finally ready to go further with you. However, when you sit on the edge of your bed with him and ask him to clarify what that means, he balks.

“Whatever you’d like to do,” he insists, noncommittal. “I’m ready.”

“Ominis,” you say gently. “I do think we should talk about this, so we can both be comfortable.”

He bristles. “‘Both?’ You mean me.”

You bite your lip. It’s true that you are significantly more experienced than Ominis, though it’s not something you’ve talked about in great detail with him. You know that you’re his first everything, that he’d abstained from any sort of physical relationship with anyone thus far because he genuinely wanted to be in love with his partner.

You, however, had pretty much done the opposite after the residual trauma of your fifth year left you with a mindset of “you only live once.” You became more and more selective after you eventually realized that, while occasionally fun, meaningless sex didn’t make you feel better about what had happened. The only thing that did was talking about it with Ominis, which is one of several reasons you fell hopelessly in love with him.

“I mean us both,” you insist. “Just because I’ve had sex before doesn’t mean I want to rush into anything either. This is important. You are important, love.”

He softens a bit when you lace your fingers with his, tugging his hand into your lap.

“I just… I don’t know how to talk about this,” he forces out. “And not because I’m posh or repressed or anything like that, but simply because I fear I don’t know what I need to know.”

“What you need to know?” you ask curiously.

“Truthfully, most of what I’ve ever heard about sex is from the other seventh-years,” Ominis admits. “It’s not like I could have those kinds of conversations with my parents, what with the way they are. I suppose if there’s anyone I could have asked, it would be Sebastian.”

You wince a little and Ominis laughs softly, bumping his shoulder against yours.

“Don’t worry, I’m not intimidated by the two of you,” he murmurs.

You and Sebastian had been “friends with benefits” (as he’d delightedly called it) toward the end of your sixth year, and thank Merlin you’d been able to maintain your friendship after it had ended.

You wouldn’t dare assume just how much Ominis knows about that fiasco, but the real reason it ended was that the two of you were simply too alike in bed – both far too dominant. Every time you came together, it felt like a duel, which was quite fun at first but quickly became exhausting and left neither of you truly satisfied.

“Well, I suppose you could talk with Sebastian,” you agree. “He’s not, er – he’s knowledgeable enough.”

This time Ominis winces, and you pat his hand apologetically.

“You could also just ask me, you know,” you tell him. “We can talk about these things. What we like, what we don’t like, what we want to do together.”

Ominis shifts closer and presses his shoulder against yours, resting his head against the top of yours. “I know. I suppose it’s just… challenging to feel so ignorant.”

“Love,” you sigh. “You aren’t.”

“I am,” he insists ruefully. “But we can… try new things together, right?”

“Of course,” you tell him, dropping his hand so you can stand between his legs and cradle his chin in your hands to pull him in for a kiss. “As long as you’re sure you’re ready.”

“Very ready,” he murmurs, resting his hands on your waist and dragging them down to your hips, more adventurous than he usually allows himself to be.

“Besides, it’s not as if you know nothing,” you tease him. “I’m sure you know how to make yourself feel good, right?”

Ominis goes red and doesn’t offer an answer, but you don’t need one to know that you’re correct.

“I can show you how I make myself feel good.”

It only falls a little flat when Ominis pointedly asks, “‘Show’ me how?”

It’s only then that you realize Ominis had a fair reason to be nervous. He probably has much less familiarity with the female body than many of his Hogwarts classmates would have had, from studying nude forms in classical Muggle art to the risque illustrations and photographs his male counterparts pour over in secret.

He would have been excluded.

“Right, er…” you mumble, thinking on your feet. “Maybe I could… tell you what I like, and you could do it for me?”

“Do it for you?” he asks, and you blink surprisedly when you realize he doesn’t sound annoyed at all with being tasked with your pleasure.

Honestly, he sounds quite interested.

“That should work, right?” you murmur, stepping closer to him so you can unsubtly press your chest against his and drape your arms around his shoulders. “I know you’re clever, Ominis. I can tell you how to touch me, and you’ll do it?”

“Yes,” he breathes, quickly stealing a kiss and letting his hands shift all the way down to the curves of your ass.

He’ll have to learn by touch, you think. Or maybe even by taste.

You have absolutely no problem with that.

For a while you let him kiss you while his hands roam, letting him refamiliarize himself with the figure he already knows quite well beneath your uniform. Then, while his hands slip underneath your skirt to explore your bare thighs, you strip off your tie, dress shirt and brassiere. He undoubtedly hears the rustling of your clothes as you remove them, but he keeps his hands where they are until you reach down and grab his wrists.

Ominis exhales softly when you press his hands to your breasts, and you hum happily when his fingers flex against your skin.

“Touch me,” you tell him softly. “Not my clothes.”

“You’re beautiful,” he says softly. “You feel… you’re so soft.”

You giggle and arch your back into his hands, and when he drags his thumbs across your nipples, you lean down and press your forehead to his.

“Not too soft,” you counter.

“Can I… may I use my mouth on you?” Ominis asks hesitantly.

Merlin.

You’ve observed that your love certainly has an oral fixation. You suppose it could have to do with his blindness, but it could simply be a part of him like anything else. Ominis has been known to suck on quills for hours while he studies – the sugar quills from Honeydukes and, regrettably, regular ones as well – which has occasionally been distracting to some of your classmates who are driven to less-than-pure thoughts while watching him redden his mouth.

“Yes, use your mouth,” you breathe, tipping your head back when he brings his lips to your skin.

He doesn’t just immediately suck at you like some of your past partners have done in a rush. He kisses you all over – the curves of your breasts, across your collarbones, down to your navel and back up again. He’s learning you, and it’s making your head spin.

“Let’s move on,” you slur after a while, nearly dizzy from how good you feel with your skirt still on.

“May I?” Ominis asks, reaching behind you for the clasp of your skirt.

You assent and he deftly unclasps it, letting your skirt drop to the floor and leaving you in just your undergarments. But before he can tug them down – and he does try – you pause him by grabbing his wrists once more.

“I am nearly naked, and you’re fully dressed,” you remind him. “Seems unfair, love.”

“Fine,” he says with a bright laugh, leaning back onto his elbows to let you tug his tie loose and pull it over his head. You unbutton his shirt deliberately slowly, treating yourself to each new inch of bare skin you reveal as you work your way down.

When you reach the bottom, you can tell he’s quite ready for you by the state of his trousers, and you deduce those need to go as well. His breath hitches when you unbutton and unzip them for him, coaxing him into lifting his hips for you to tug them down.

After that, you both hurriedly tug off your undergarments and toss them… somewhere, to be sure.

He looks like sin sitting before you, completely nude with his long cock hard in his lap.

“Are you going to show me now?” he asks hopefully, his fingers twitching nervously at his sides.

“Mmm, soon,” you murmur. “I think I want you to show me something first.”

“You – you want to see…?” Ominis asks, his eyebrows raised. “But you know what men like, how we…”

“I know how men get themselves off, yes,” you say, finishing the sentence he lets die on his tongue. “I don’t care about what men like. I want to see what you like.”

“I can’t imagine I’m that unique,” he retorts.

“Then show me because I want to watch,” you challenge, gently pushing on his shoulders so he’ll scoot back and let you straddle his thighs. “I’m asking so nicely, Ominis.”

He exhales shakily and rests his hands on your bare hips. “Well, I usually… I usually have something to – Merlin, I have a salve, so it’s not dry.”

“Let me take care of it,” you purr, lifting one of his hands to your mouth and licking across his palm. He nearly chokes, but he lets you wet his hand for him and wrap it around his cock.

“Touch yourself,” you murmur. “Tell me what you think about when you get yourself off.”

“You,” he says quickly. “It’s always you, kissing you, touching you.”

You watch hungrily as he starts to stroke himself, observing the way he drags his thumb across his sensitive head and squeezes firmly at the base.

“Touching me how?” you encourage him.

“I… like this, touching your breasts, your bare skin,” he whispers. His other hand trails from your waist down to the crease of your hip. “Here too.”

“Do it then,” you whine. “Touch me, feel me.”

Finally, with his free hand he reaches between your thighs, tracing two fingertips along your folds. You’re already wet, and he groans softly before cursing under his breath.

“Let me show you,” you whisper, wrapping your fingers around his wrist to guide his hand.

You shift his hand up until his fingertips are pressed to your clit. “This is one of my favorite places to touch when I’m alone,” you tell him, nosing along his cheek. “Just touching here can get me off, actually.”

“R-really?” he breathes. “But what about… inside?”

“Inside, hm?” you croon. “Seems like you aren’t as ignorant as you let me believe.”

Ominis blushes a little and ducks his head, but he quickly tips his sightless gaze back up to you when you trace his fingertips along your slit to your entrance.

“Here,” you breathe. “If you want to go inside, it’s just here.”

“Can I?

“One finger first,” you tell him, and he’s perfectly gentle as he presses his long middle finger into your body.

You press your lips against his cheekbone and murmur, “Tell me how I feel, Ominis.”

“Warm. Wet, so wet,” he groans. His hand on his cock has gone completely still, forgotten in favor of exploring you with his other hand. “And – tight.”

It’s then that you have a brilliant idea.

“What if I let you use your mouth on me here?” you keen when he drags his thumb across your clit with his finger still inside you. “Would you like that?”

“I can do that?” Ominis asks. “You would want me to?”

“If you’re comfortable,” you tell him, gently running your fingers through his hair to loosen it a little from his daily coiffe. “I’d like to try it with you.”

Stunned, he nods and gently pulls out of you so that you can join him on the bed and lie on your back. Carefully, you drape one leg and then the other over his shoulders as he kneels between the apex of your thighs. You cross your ankles behind his back to coax him closer and onto his elbows, his face inches from where you most want him.

“What, er… how should I…” he asks.

“It’s instinct, love,” you croon, leaning back on your elbows and watching as he leans in a bit more, transfixed by how close he is to you. “I couldn’t possibly tell you, I’ve never done it myself.”

“Has anyone ever…?” he asks suggestively, one of his hands wrapping around your thigh.

“Ever what?” you tease him, utterly in love with the way it makes him blush harder.

“Has anyone else ever used their mouth on you?” he asks more firmly, nuzzling his temple against your inner thigh.

“Mmm, no,” you murmur.

He smirks to himself. “So I suppose I needn’t be worried about being compared.”

“Ominis,” you sigh. “I need you to do something, anything. Just try, I promise I’ll tell you if it’s working or not.”

“Please, tell me,” he requests. “I might not… It’s harder to be sure that I’m doing it right, if you’re quiet.”

“Somehow, I don’t think that will be a problem,” you reply cheekily.

Without another word, Ominis leans in and presses his tongue to your skin, licking you open with broad, curious strokes of his tongue while he learns the taste and feel of you. You quickly lose your breath as he explores your drenched core.

You gasp sharply when he presses his tongue against your clit, and he quickly asks, “How does that feel?”

“Amazing,” you breathe. “That’s good, Ominis, right there, keep going.”

Ominis simply lights up after receiving your praise, and it makes your heart race adoringly to see how much he loves this – loves you.

He becomes more and more assured as he presses his tongue against your clit, and even without his sight, he couldn’t possibly miss how your legs tremble helplessly when he moans into your body, the vibrations sending you closer and closer to your climax.

He experiments with pressing his tongue inside you as well, and it feels nice, of course it does. But it’s just not as nice as when he’s paying attention to your clit, so without thinking, you reach down and tug on his blond hair to direct his mouth back to where you want it.

This time, when Ominis moans against your clit, it’s not for your benefit.

“Did you like that?” you ask knowingly, twisting your fingers deeper into his hair. Usually it’s so perfectly coiffed, but you imagine by the time you’re through with him, it might look more like Sebastian’s does after Quidditch practice.

“Yes,” he admits, his voice nearly a whine.

“Good. Make me come and you can tell me how else you’d like me to touch you.”

Desperate to finish you off, Ominis first wraps both hands around your thighs and positively buries his face between them, his tongue flicking over and over against your clit. Then he pulls one hand back and presses the tips of two fingers against your entrance.

“Inside?” he asks quickly.

“Yes,” you grit out. “I’m so close Ominis, don’t stop.”

Obediently, he presses his long, thin fingers inside you and curls them how you tell him to, and you only last another minute under his focused ministrations before you come hard, both hands now tangled in his hair to hold him in place until you’re too sensitive to take anymore.

When you finally push his face away, Ominis looks drunk. His mouth and chin are soaked from your release, his pale skin is burning red and his hair is a wild mess.

“So…” he murmurs, dragging a thumb across his lower lip and briefly sucking it clean. “How was that?”

“Don’t be daft,” you laugh deliriously, still staring up at the ceiling. “You’re a natural, Ominis, you get an Outstanding from me.”

He smiles and rests one of his hands on your bare hip, trailing the other up your waist to your neck so he can lean down and kiss you, letting you taste yourself on his tongue.

However, despite how formal his countenance often is, he’s still a young man – and not a very patient one.

“I believe you said something about touching me now?” he murmurs, kissing down your chin to your neck and gently nipping at your pulse point.

“Mmm, yes, I do think you deserve a turn,” you agree.

You reach down to wrap your hand around his cock and slowly stroke him, earning a choked-off moan and a much less gentle bite against your neck.

“Which would you like, Ominis? My hand, my mouth, or my cunt?”

Ominis curses under his breath – you can tell he likes it when you’re vulgar, despite how often he chides Sebastian for using similar language around their other mates.

He zones out for a moment, considering, so you stroke him harder to bring his focus back to you. “Tell me, love.”

“Your – your body, I want… I want to be inside you,” he admits. “But I don’t think I’m going to last very long.”

“That’s alright,” you reassure him. “It’s only your first time, we’ll have many more times to practice.”

He whines softly and presses a kiss over the bruise he’s worked into the skin below your jawline. “Many more?”

“Focus,” you tease him. “Let’s enjoy this time first, alright? Are you ready?”

You drop your hand from his cock so he can sit back and line himself up against you, and you think that this must be where some amount of instinct kicks in because the juts of his hip bones line up perfectly with the insides of your thighs without so much as a guiding hand from you.

“Good, Ominis,” you breathe, and his cock jumps, its wet tip tapping against his stomach.

He takes himself in hand and presses the head of his cock against your entrance, tracing a line from your hole to your clit and back to learn just where to press in, and then he starts to sheath himself within you.

“Oh, fuck,” he groans, and you beam delightedly – you’ve never heard him talk like that before.

“That’s it, keep going,” you encourage him. “I can take all of you.”

He’s quite long, but he takes his time with you, slowly pressing in until his hips are flush with your thighs and his arms are trembling slightly as he holds himself above you.

“Am I hurting you?” he asks, restraint clear in both his voice and the tense line of his jaw.

You cup your hand against the side of his face and murmur, “Not at all, you feel wonderful.”

“Can I move?” he pleads, and you breathe your yes against his lips.

Even without the muscle memory of a more experienced man, Ominis is a fast learner. He quickly sets a rhythm that has you dragging your hands down his chest and demanding more, harder, faster.

Your heart can barely take it when he simply meets your demands without a word, his hair falling into his eyes as he fucks you like it’s a gift to be inside you.

“I want to make you come again,” he confesses, leaning down to kiss you wherever he can put his mouth on you – your jaw, your shoulder, your lips. “Can I?”

“Yes,” you breathe, because your first orgasm had left you so sensitive you’re sure you can come again before Ominis finishes.

In fact, you think if you asked him, he’d make himself wait for you.

You slide a hand down your body and start to touch yourself, rubbing your clit the way you know you like when you need a release. You want to be quick – you want him to learn how it feels when you come around his cock.

“Close,” he grunts, his hands fisting in the sheets beside you. “Love, please…”

“Don’t you dare,” you hiss, leaning up to nip at his lower lip. “Let me come first, Ominis, I promise it’s worth waiting for.”

“I can’t,” he whines, but you know he can – you can see how he’s straining to hold back, his stomach taut and his arms tense beside your head.

“Just a little more, love, and – ah!” you gasp, because when he sits back just a little – as if trying to physically pull back from falling over the edge – his cock presses against a spot inside you that’s just enough to make you see stars.

It’s barely seconds after you come that Ominis groans helplessly and spills inside you, his thrusts coming to a halt when he feels you become impossibly tighter around him.

You stroke your hands lazily up and down his back while he catches his breath, mercifully not dropping his full weight onto you in favor of gently rolling to the side, hooking your leg over his hip.

“What’s the verdict, then?” you ask him softly, tracing your fingertips along his jawline and smiling at the blissful look on his face.

“We’re doing that again, quite literally as soon as I can,” he pants, and you can’t help but laugh brightly and bury your face against his chest.

“How charming!” you tease him. “That’s it, hm? Have I finally made a monster of you?”

“Without a doubt,” he agrees, pressing his nose to your hair.

#hogwarts legacy #hogwarts legacy fic #my fic #ominis gaunt #ominis gaunt x mc #ominis gaunt x reader #ominis x mc #ominis x reader #i know we love dominis but LISTEN #por que no los dos i merely offer an alternative #this is beta'd but nobody's perfect xoxo #experimenting with not using an image bc what would i POSSIBLY put so please don't let this flop

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loversj0y · 1 year

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id meet you where the spirit meets the bones

inspired by @lillylvjy's ghost au! go give it a read and give lilly some love!!

wilbur soot x gn! reader

TWs: death, lots of talks about death, reader cries a few times, nightmares, reader nearly dies, stalking, body horror, slightly suggestive stuff (wilbur is flirty af)

word count: 13k. i am not sorry

note: this has not been edited/beta read at all. also i know jack shit about ghosts tbh aside from the light pagan/spirit work i used to do so. dont take any of the ghostly advice here seriously its all for spooky vibes and ambiance. also if anyone can notice the red flags i include at a Specific Section i will give u a smooch, title taken from ivy by taylor swift

taglist: @l0veb0mb1ng, @core-queen

You didn’t believe in ghosts. You weren't strong in this opinion, it was just a matter of not believing everything you saw on the internet. You never had any personal experiences with ghosts yourself, so you had no reason to actually believe in them.

While this didn’t mean a lot, it did mean that the house everyone avoided on the corner was about to be yours.

You knew the stories and the warnings:

Be careful! You know they say those boys haunt those walls!

It was brutal what happened here, are you sure it’s safe?

Good luck! They say those who move in there either leave dead or never leave!

Honestly, it didn’t deter you. A brutal murder of two brothers in the 90s should have scared you. However, you went in for a showing, and the place seemed perfectly fine. It was the cheapest place you could buy, and you couldn’t stand having a landlord anymore. Ghosts are miles better than landlords, at least they live in the place and don’t just act like they do.

You took the deal. The move in process was pretty easy, too. You borrowed a work friend’s truck, and you and her brought in some of your heavier furniture (your old mattress, the couch you bought on Facebook, the TV you got from a friend who couldn’t take it with him), and the rest of the boxes you and her just piled into the living room. You thanked her, paying her for her help as well, and then it was just you, standing in your new, box-filled living room.

You took a deep breath as you looked around, almost stunned by the stillness of the room. You’d never actually lived on your own before, always some family or roommate with you, so it was… almost uncomfortable to see an empty room with no sound.

The silence was broken after a moment, though, your phone ringing loudly from the kitchen counter. You walked over and answered, starting to unpack as you spoke on the phone.

“Hello?”

“Hi, sweetie, how’s the move going?” It was your mum, voice kind and welcoming.

“It’s good, mum,” you chuckled, opening up your first box of kitchenware, “Working on boxes now.”

“That’s good, I’m glad to hear it.” You could hear her smile through the phone. “The place is nice?”

“Yeah, the house is really nice,” you carefully shifted some pots into the back of the cabinet, “it’s an older house, but it’s lovely. The backyard is really pretty too, I think you’d love it. Really peaceful.”

“Oh, love, not to be rude, but I don’t imagine I’ll be coming there anytime soon.”

“I know, I know, you don’t like the drive.”

“Well, yes, but…” you could hear the apprehension in her voice, “sweetie, you’ve heard about this… place you’re living in, of course. I’m not sure how safe it is.”

You chuckled, standing up fully and leaning against the kitchen counter, “Never took you for a believer in ghosts, mum.”

The air felt a bit tense around you.

“Well, when you’re my age, sweetheart, you’d rather not test your luck.”

That brought a laugh out of you, “Mum, you don’t look a day over thirty.” You smiled, looking around the house a bit. “Besides, have you even heard the full story?”

“I’ve heard about the brutal murder part, but I suppose not much else.”

“It was two boys,” you sighed softly, “Eighteen and twenty-six. If ghosts are even real, I don’t imagine they’d want to cause much trouble. If anything, they’d probably be scared.”

A rattling sound came from your left, causing you to falter in your words. You walked to see the source of the noise, quickly noticing a few of the pots still in the box had shifted, presumably having fallen over.

You continued speaking easily, “I mean, god, mum, imagine dying and being forced to live in the place you were killed while seeing tens of people move into your home. I’d be confused and scared too.”

“I suppose,” you heard your mother reply, and it felt like some of the tension left the room. “Either way, just promise me, you’ll be safe? If anything seems amiss, I can call my sister-“

“Oh, god, mum, Aunt Cate couldn’t tell a ghost from a sock, I’d rather not have her in here spewing her Catholic bullshit.”

Your mother laughed, and it made some of the homesickness fade a bit, “Fair enough, dearie. Listen, I’ve got to run, but call me tomorrow, please?”

“I will, mum. I love you.”

“Love you too, dear.”

The line hung up, and you sighed softly, hanging your head for a moment. It felt too quiet already. You opened up Spotify, choosing some random playlist and continuing your work with unpacking. You played some soft indie music, gentle but upbeat guitar flowing from your phone's speaker as you finished unpacking your kitchen. You started working on the living room items, small knick knacks and photos being arranged carefully.

As you cleaned, the playlist took a bit of a wild turn. Instead of the soft plucking of a guitar, the next song starts, and you’re immediately stunned by the sound of some electronic-sounding music. You walked over to your phone which — you didn’t remember leaving it unlocked — was playing a song called “Able Sisters”. From Animal Crossing. Very odd choice. It wasn’t bad though, so you pretty much just shrugged it off, going back to unpacking.

Nothing else weird really occurred that night, and you wouldn’t even consider the music thing that weird. It just was technology being weird. You ordered food, sitting cross-legged on the couch and watching a movie while you ate. After you ate, you cleaned up after yourself and became acutely aware of how you felt far more Adult than you ever had before. You sat back down and relaxed for the first time all day. You were curled into the side of the couch, and to your surprise, you actually didn’t feel very alone. You figured by now you’d be going through your contacts, calling anyone just to feel like there was another person with you. It wasn’t long before you’d fallen asleep, and if you woke up with a blanket around you that certainly hadn’t been near you the night before, you didn’t notice.

You finished your move-in process with little hassle. By the end of the week, you were pretty much completely moved in, save for a few boxes that you had to bring up to the attic. You began to understand why people thought the house was creepy, especially with the amount of creaks and noises you’d hear throughout the day, but given the age of the house, it didn’t bother you.

You carried the boxes upstairs, opening the door to the attic and stacking them up in the corner. You looked around at the attic, smiling softly. There were signs that the attic was lived in, and it was actually kind of nice to see. There were a few things that had been left behind from past owners, and you walked around, taking a look at some of the items. There were a few boxes with things like old clothes, and from looking at them, it hit you that these weren’t any items that had been left behind, but rather the items left behind by the two dead boys’ family. It sent a shiver down your back, but it made you more sad than scared. You went back to one of your boxes, pulling out an old candle and a spare box of matches. There was a small table in the corner of the room, and you set the candle down, lighting it.

Even though you didn’t think there was anyone here, you still spoke outloud, “it’s not much, but I hope it’s something.”

You went back to looking through some of their items, trying to find anything that seemed important to add to the corner table. It relieved you to see that most of the items were non-sentimental items. There were no photos or family heirlooms that had been left behind, just normal items. You did find some smaller objects that you could add to the small table, though, like a red beanie and two CDs. You walked around the small attic a bit more, smiling at an acoustic guitar you found stashed behind some of the boxes. You were shocked by the lack of dust, but it was even more shocking that the guitar was in tune. You didn’t know how to play much except for a few simple chords, so it was at least nice to know there was one up here.

The next object you found was also hidden. It was stashed in the very corner, hidden in a small crevice between paneling in the wall. It was a small compass. You held it up to the light, gently trying to clean some debris off of it. The weird thing happened when you turned the compass over, noticing a small engraving on the back. Before you could read it, though, the compass flew out of your hand, hitting the wall before rolling back into the crevice that you’d found it.

Okay. Definitely weird. You felt your opinion of whether or not ghosts existed being swayed.

“Okay,” you said, backing up a bit, “Sorry. I won’t touch it again.”

You spoke simply. If ghosts were real, you still did believe that they’d probably be more scared than anything, especially if someone was touching their things. And there wasn’t a problem until you’d touched the compass, so you figured that must’ve been something important. If it was something important, you didn’t want to mess with it. It wasn’t yours, point-blank. So, instead, you went back to cleaning up the attic, sorting through boxes and neatly arranging them, and adding small things you’d find to the table in the corner. By the time you finished it was nearly dinner, so you carefully put out the candle (not wanting it to be burning unsupervised) and went downstairs to make dinner.

The few days past that went by with pretty much no weirdness. You truly weren’t sure what to believe now. You almost thought yourself crazy, but it was probably just a side effect of not having left the house since you’d moved in. You had work today, though. It was your first day back, and for whatever reason, you felt nervous. You definitely seemed it too. You nearly burnt your breakfast, cursing and fretting around the kitchen, a slight shake to your hands. You chose an outfit for the day, setting it on the bed. You rushed to take a shower, leaving the bathroom humid and steamy. You got dressed and finished making yourself look presentable before making some coffee to bring with you to work. You kept fretting with your hair and fidgeting. You walked back to the bathroom, trying to double check your hair. The mirror was still fogged up, causing you to groan.

Instead, though, you felt your brain short-circuit as you leaned back and words started slowly appearing on the foggy of the mirror.

‘Don’t worry. You look amazing.’

A blush rose to your cheeks as you took a moment to process.

Ghosts?

Yeah. Ghosts.

Nice one, though, at the very least. You weren’t exactly going to scream and run when the compliment did actually help relax you a bit.

“Thank you,” you smiled softly, focusing on the matter at hand a bit more.

“Can you write your name, if you don’t mind? I’d like to know who I’m living with.” The question felt a bit risky, especially since this was the first time you’d gotten proper confirmation that he existed.

‘Wilbur. And the other one is Tommy.’

You nodded, “Well, thank you, Wilbur.” You thought for a moment before your phone alarm went off, letting you know you had to leave for work. You cursed, sighing, “Okay, I have to go, but I’d like to talk more when I get back. Is that possible?”

You awaited a response, and you got one after a moment.

‘:)’

Okay. That’s good. At least you think it is.

You nodded, pulling your bag up on your shoulder before walking to the door. You paused at the door, turning back,

“Bye, Wilbur. Bye, Tommy. I’ll be home later!” you spoke out into the empty room, hoping they were there to hear it, before rushing out the door to work.

Work was uneventful for the most part. A few coworkers asked about your new place, asking if you’d heard any ghosts or creepy things. You decided to lie, telling them that you hadn’t experienced anything. The last thing you’d wanted was people somehow confirming the existence of ghosts and either considering you crazy or trying to make a spectacle of the boys. It was bad enough that they weren’t allowed to move on in the afterlife, you didn’t want to make things worse for them.

You did spend quite a bit of your freetime at work looking things up about ghosts, however. Most of the stuff you found was pretty fake from the looks of it, but honestly, up until you’d moved in, you never even thought about if ghosts were real or not. You found a lot of potentially good information too, though, about pendulums and spirit boards and how to make them at home.

When you got home, you opened the door slowly, humming as you walked in, “Hi, Tommy. Hi, Wilbur. I’m home.” There was a smile on your face. You didn’t get much of a response, not that you were really expecting one, but there was a knocking that let you know you were at least heard.

You went to your room, grabbing an old necklace. It was a simple necklace, a thin silver chain and a small guitar pendant. You also grabbed a pen and a sheet of paper. After a moment, you had an idea as well, printing out a morse code guide. You sat down in front of your coffee table, writing out a circle with ‘Yes’, ‘No’, and ‘Maybe’ written along opposite sides of the circle. You also put the morse code sheet next to you, sighing softly. Okay, communing with the dead. This is nothing. Sure. You can do this.

“So, if you’re ready, and want to communicate, can you move the pendant to yes?” You asked outloud, holding up your necklace over the circle. After a moment, the pendant started swinging to ‘yes’, and you took a slow breath.

“Okay, so for yes and no, we can use this. If you want to elaborate, you can knock with the morse code here, and I can work it out. Does that work?”

Once again, the pendant swung to yes.

You nodded, taking a deep breath.

“Who am I talking to right now? Is this Wilbur? Or Tommy?”

You got no response from the pendant. Instead, you heard knocking on the table, and you started scribing the knocking.

��-... --- - ....’

You looked down at the sheet. ‘Both’.

You nodded, thinking for a moment, “Is it okay that I’m here?”

The pendant swung to ‘yes’, and you let out a soft breath of relief.

“Are you guys okay? I mean, it-it’s probably scary being stuck as ghosts and such, so…”

There was a long pause before you got any response.

‘.. / .- -- / -. --- - / ... -.-. .- .-. . -.. / .. / .- -- / .- / -... .. --. / -- .- -.’

‘I AM NOT SCARED I AM A BIG MAN’

Before you could even respond, there was more knocking.

‘... --- .-. .-. -.-- --..-- / - .... .- - / .-- .- ... / - --- -- -- -.-- .-.-.- / .-- . .----. .-. . / --- -.- .- -.-- / - .... --- ..- --. .... --..-- / ..-. --- .-. / - .... . / -- --- ... - / .--. .- .-. - .-.-.-’

‘sorry, that was Tommy. We're okay though, for the most part.’

You chuckled softly, “That’s good to hear. Sorry, Tommy, I didn’t mean any offense.”

‘.. - .----. ... / ..-. .. -. . .-.-.- / -.. --- -. .----. - / - --- ..- -.-. .... / -- -.-- / -.-. --- -- .--. .- ... ... / .- --. .- .. -. --..-- / - .... --- ..- --. .... .-.-.-’

‘IT'S FINE. DON'T TOUCH MY COMPASS AGAIN, THOUGH.’

“Oh, of course,” you hummed, “if you want, I can set up an area in the attic for you guys to keep more private things. Two areas, actually, so you guys have your own space. Does that work?”

The pendant swung to ‘Yes’ incredibly fast, and you chuckled.

“Alright, good to hear, then. Speaking of, is there anything you guys want me to do differently? Or maybe that you want me to stop doing?”

There was another long pause.

‘-. --- .. ... .’

‘Noise.’

“Noise?”

‘.-- . .----. .-. . / -- --- .-. . / ... . -. ... .. - .. ...- . / - --- / .-.. --- ..- -.. / -. --- .. ... . ... / -. --- .-- .-.-.-’

‘We’re more sensitive to loud noises now.’

You nodded, “Okay. When I put on the TV or music, just knock and I can turn it down. Or, if you’re able to, you can turn it down yourself. I’m not sure what I can do about my alarm, though… I need them loud to wake up.”

‘.-- . / -.-. --- ..- .-.. -.. / .-- .- -.- . / -.-- --- ..-’

‘WE COULD WAKE YOU’

“You could?”

‘.. / -.-. --- ..- .-.. -.. .-.-.- / -.. --- / -. --- - / .-.. . - / - --- -- -- -.-- / .-- .- -.- . / -.-- --- ..- .-.-.- / .... . / .-- .. .-.. .-.. / -... .-. . .- -.- / ... --- -- . - .... .. -. --. .-.-.-’

‘I could. Do not let Tommy wake you. He will break something.’

You giggled a bit, nodding, “Alright. Sure. I don’t have work tomorrow, so we can test it out, and if not, we can see what else we could do.”

The pendant swung to ‘Yes’, and you hummed happily.

“Alright, if that’s everything, then I’m going to make dinner. But, if you need to get my attention, just knock three times. Or if you have a better way, you can do that too, but still. This is your home before it was mine, and I want to make it be comfortable for you both. You guys are more just like… my ghost roommates. Okay?”

The pendant swung to ‘yes’ once again before you gently set it down.

You stood, going to the kitchen before speaking again, “Oh, and if you want to use anything that’s in the living room, feel free. I don’t mind. If it’s something in my room, just ask first.”

You turned on some music as you started cooking, keeping it low for their sake. You were in your element when you cooked, finding comfort in the motions as you thought about today. Ghosts were real. It was not something you could be indifferent to anymore. Ghosts are real, and not just that, you also lived with two of them. It was actually nice, though. You didn’t feel alone, at least.

You hummed to yourself as you cooked, leaning up on your tiptoes to try and grab a plate from one of the top shelves. You struggled, nearly dropping the plate before it carefully was lifted, seeming to float down from the shelf. Even if you couldn’t see the ghost, you could feel how close he was to you as he gently set the plate down on the counter.

“Thank you,” you spoke softly, cheeks tinted pink. You smiled, once again feeling relieved by the fact that you weren’t alone. In a house known for being scary, you’d never felt safer.

You finished the rest of dinner with ease, taking a plate and walking back to the living room. When you walked back in, you noticed something interesting. The seat on the far left of the couch, while still empty, had your Rubix cube floating, turning occasionally. You chuckled softly, sitting to the far right to eat your dinner. You looked back at the Rubix cube, trying to figure out which one was playing with it.

“Is there anyway for me to tell the difference between you both? Since I can’t see you?”

The Rubix cube paused in it’s movements, and for a moment, you almost wondered if you scared them off.

After a moment, the pendant you had been using earlier lifted, and you watched as the necklace floated to presumably be placed around a neck.

‘.-- .. .-.. -... ..- .-.’

You looked down at the paper. ‘Wilbur.’

You nodded, understanding quickly. “Hold on, I’ll get one for you, Tommy.” You set the plate down, hurrying back to your room and grabbing another old necklace. This one was simpler, a thin black chord with a small silver dog-tag on it.

You walked back in, moving towards the Rubix cube, “Here, Tommy.”

You felt a cold tingle on your hand as the necklace lifted, slowly being arranged around his neck as well. To you, it was just two floating necklaces. However, it gave you enough distinction that you could at least tell who was who.

You smiled, sitting back down to finish eating. You turned on a movie, though you didn’t pay too much attention. You were incredibly aware of the two ghosts sitting next to you. It was Wilbur sitting next to you and next to him was Tommy. It was almost weird how comfortable you felt with them here. Even if they’d been here the entire time, it was different now that there was actual confirmation that they were here. You didn’t know anything about ghosts. You felt completely out of your element. You knew that they could interact with the environment, since they could pick stuff up and put things on, but you didn’t know what else they could do. Could they make noises? Could they become full-blow apparitions? As little as you knew, you felt worried about asking. It took a few days just for them to actually let you know they existed. The last thing you wanted to do was scare them away in their own home.

Could they even leave if they wanted to? People only ever spoke about them being here in the place they were killed. They probably wouldn’t even want to stay here if they had a choice. It made you upset to think about, the fact that they may not have a choice in this whatsoever. You couldn’t tell if you wanted to yell or cry or hug them because of it.

You stood up and cleaned your plate, chewing on your lip while you did. You wished you could help them. If they wanted it. That was another thing you had to consider. Maybe they were happy here. You didn’t know, honestly, and you wanted to know. For now you wouldn’t ask, though. Maybe, hopefully, when you got closer with them.

You walked back over to the couch, sitting back where you had been before. The TV had changed to some ghost show, and it almost made you laugh. You went to grab the remote, but knocking stopped you.

‘- .... .- - / .. ... / -. --- - / .-- .... .- - / .. - / .. ... / .-.. .. -.- . --..-- / - .... . ... . / ..-. ..- -.-. -.- .. -. / .-- .-. --- -. --. ..- -. …’

‘THAT IS NOT WHAT IS IT LIKE, THESE FUCKIN WRONGUNS,’

You snorted, chuckling a bit, “Yeah. Most of these ghost hunting shows are completely made up.” You looked, noting that it was Tommy who had moved. “They fake everything, so they can keep making money, Tommy. It’s stupid. They’ve probably caused more harm than anything else.”

‘- .... .- - .----. ... / -.. ..- -- -... .-.-.- / - .... . -.-- / ... .... --- ..- .-.. -.. / .--- ..- ... - / .- ... -.- / ..-. .. .-. ... - --..-- / .- - / .-.. . .- ... - / - --- / -... . / .... --- -. . ... - / .- -... --- ..- - / .. - .-.-.-.’

‘THAT’S DUMB. THEY SHOULD JUST ASK FIRST, AT LEAST BE HONEST ABOUT IT.’

You sighed, nodding, “I agree. I mean, if there are ghosts there, they’re probably just annoying them. Or even worse, they’re probably scaring them.”

You got no response to that, deciding instead to change the channel to something more lighthearted.

You started getting tired, and you grabbed your blanket, pulling it over your legs. You spread it out as well, letting it cover both of the boys as well. You noticed and looked curiously as you could “see” their legs through the blanket. Obviously, it was just the outline of their – bodies? Ghost form? God, it was starting to confuse you a bit. You chuckled a bit when you noticed, though, smiling softly. At least you weren’t going completely crazy.

You leaned back a bit, leaning your legs on the coffee table as you watched the TV. You felt the cushion behind you shift slightly, a cold and tingly feeling coming across your shoulders. You looked to your right, seeing Wilbur’s necklace shift a bit. Huh. Did he- was his arm around your shoulder?

You felt yourself flush a bit, leaning into the sensation. The tingling feeling went away slowly, and you felt yourself relaxing more and more. It didn’t take much longer before you fell asleep.

When you woke up, you were in your bed. You didn’t remember how you got there. What you did wake up to, though, was a gentle shaking and a chill on your arm. Your eyes fluttered open, and you were met with the sight of a floating necklace. You almost laughed out of absurdity, blinking the sleep out of your eyes.

“Good morning to you too, Wilbur,” you chuckled, slowly sitting up. “Thanks for waking me.”

You stretched, and the only reply you got was a gentle knocking on your nightstand. There was no pattern or morse code used, just a few taps to let you know he was responding.

You stood and got started with your morning, and you noted the soft sound of the necklace Wilbur wore as he followed you out to the living room. It was harder to spot Tommy. What wasn’t hard to spot was the girl sitting in your living room.

“Uh… hello?” You asked, and the girl’s head whipped around to see you.

“Oh! Sorry! Tommy let me in.”

… What? “What? He did?”

She stood, walking over to you, outstretching her hand, “I’m Molly.”

You shook her hand, nodding, “Nice to meet you. Wait- I’m sorry- you know Tommy?”

She nodded quickly, and you noted a light blush on her face, “Yeah. I’ve been visiting this house for a long time, so I’ve known Wilbur and Tommy for a while. Tommy and I are really close.”

You nodded slowly, “Right. Okay. I didn’t realize they had friends.”

“Tom and I are a bit closer than that,” she blushed darker, rubbing the back of her neck, “Wait, you know about them, too. And you’re staying here?” “Yeah. It’s their house, I’m just living in it,” you shrugged. “You and Tommy are… dating?”

“Essentially. Sorry about just coming in, he said you wouldn’t mind.”

“It’s alright. I mean, bit of a scary way to wake up, to be honest, but if he trusts you, and you do this often, then I’m sure you mean no harm.”

She smiled, “I really don’t. I just liked giving them company at first, and then Tommy and I got closer, so…” the blush returned, and she leaned back into what you assumed were Tommy’s arms, now that you noticed his necklace behind her.

“Alright. Cool. As long as you don’t break shit, I don’t mind.”

Molly nodded quickly, “of course! I usually can’t stay long anyways. I just like stopping by on my way to work or when I have a day off from classes.”

“Alright,” you nodded, walking to the kitchen, “well, if you ever want, I can clean up the spare room for you to stay in if you need it. Do you want any coffee?”

“I’m good, thank you, though.” Molly smiled, moving to sit back on the couch. Wilbur was still behind you as you started brewing coffee, and you could faintly feel his hand on your back.

You grabbed a notepad, holding out a pen for Wilbur and whispering to him, “So, they’re dating?”

‘Yep. She’s really nice.’

You nodded, humming softly, “She seems so. Do you like her?”

‘Yeah. She’s good for Tommy. He would get pretty lonely when it was just me here and everyone else would leave due to us being here. Plus, it’s funny to watch him get flustered whenever she comes around.’

You chuckled, nodding. “Alright. I’m glad he has someone then. Are there others? Do you have anyone?”

‘There were others. We don’t know what happened to most of them since they all pretty much just stopped coming around. But if you’re asking if I’m single, darling, I’m very much available ;)’

You flushed, turning to grab your coffee, “I- I just meant if I should expect any other visitors or anything.” You took a sip as he replied.

‘Nope. Just her. And don’t get shy on me now, love. You’re too cute to hide your face from me.’

You choked on your coffee, face turning a beet red as you coughed.

Molly ran in, looking at you with concern, “Are you alright?”

You nodded, giving her a meek thumbs up as you calmed down, “‘m fine.” You coughed a bit more, slowly taking in a breath.

Molly looked down at the notepad, grinning after a moment, “Ohh, I see. You’ve caught Wilbur’s attention, then?”

“Guess so,” you rubbed the back of your neck, a blush still resting on your cheeks.

“No wonder he seemed so happy when he talked about you.” She giggled, turning.

“Wait- talked about me? You can hear them?”

She turned back, looking a bit confused, “Uh, yeah. I’m actually shocked they haven’t spoken to you yet. Though, it took them a long while before they started talking back to me too, so I guess it makes sense.”

“So, they can speak then?”

She snorted, “Yeah. Of course they can. Do you- you don’t know much about ghosts, do you?” You shook your head slowly, “I didn’t even know if they were real before this.”

“Oh,” she hummed, “Well, as I’m sure you know now, they are very real. Tom and Wilbur and most ghosts are really cool. They’re just kind of doing their own thing. Some can be less than friendly, but don’t worry about them too much.”

You nodded as you listened, “How do you know so much about this?”

She shrugged, “I’ve been talking with ghosts since I was a kid.”

“Huh. Alright, well, you clearly know more about it than I do. Anything you can tell me, I’d be glad to hear.”

She thought for a moment, “Tommy’s favorite color is red. And Wilbur’s is teal,” she perked up, “Oh! And Tommy’s birthday is April 9th, and Wilbur’s is September 14th,” she smiled. “It’s probably best if they tell you more about themselves, though.”

You nodded, “Right, well, thank you, though.”

She grinned, “Of course. Have fun with Wilbur,” she giggled, and it made your cheeks flush once again as she walked back out to the living room.

You took a deep breath, leaning against the counter. Wilbur was still by you, and you watched as the pen lifted once more.

‘Didn’t mean to make you choke. Sorry for taking your breath away ;)’

You snorted softly, “Oh, you very well meant it. But I don’t mind.”

‘Oh? Good to know then. I am glad you’re okay, though. Don’t need three ghosts in one place.’

For some reason, him wanting you to be okay made you flush more than any of his actual flirting.

A few weeks had gone by, and now, you had fallen into a comfortable routine. Wilbur was always ready to flirt, it seemed, whether it be through morse code, notes left around your house, or by using your phone to play romantic songs. It was really nice. Your week always followed a similar pace, you’d go to work on the weekdays, spend time with the boys when you got home, and Molly would come over on Saturday mornings and most of Sunday to hang out with you and Wilbur, but mostly Tommy. You learned more about her, learning that she was going to a University nearby, and that she’d moved to this town a few years back, where she quickly started visiting the boys after learning about the rumors of them in town. You learned more about Wilbur and Tommy too. Wilbur liked indie music and cats. Tommy liked songs that reminded him of being alive and video games, watching them and playing them if he could. You really enjoyed your routine, and you had grown to genuinely care about them.

The first time you hear Wilbur’s voice was an accident. It was late, about three A.M., and you couldn’t sleep. It was a weekend, thankfully, but you couldn’t stand just sitting there in the dark anymore. You got up, walking around the living room when you heard soft music playing. Curiously, you walked up towards the attic where the sound was coming from. You could make out the sounds of a guitar, and from outside the door, you could hear singing. And my god, it was beautiful. He had a soft voice, melodic but not too deep. After listening for a moment, you opened the door, searching for the sound.

While you didn’t see him, you saw the guitar perched up, so you knew it was Wilbur. You walked in slowly, as if treading on eggshells.

“Your voice is really lovely,” you spoke softly, standing in front of the chair Wilbur was on.

It was silent before you heard his actual speaking voice.

“Darling, what are you doing up? It’s late.”

You took a deep breath upon hearing his voice properly for the first time. “Couldn’t sleep, and I heard music, so I got curious, I guess,” You sat down in front of him, “You’re speaking. I’m sorry if I wasn’t meant to hear you, I just…” you couldn’t really think up more of an explanation, shrugging.

“it’s alright. I was mostly just trying to spare you from hearing Tommy talk your ear off,” he chuckled, and if his singing wasn’t melodic enough, his laugh alone definitely was.

You chuckled, smiling softly, “Well, I’ll make sure to be prepared for that in the morning.”

He chuckled once more, “Good. He’ll be wanting to say a lot now that he can.” He hummed softly, “do you want me to play for you? Since you can’t sleep?”

“That would be really nice,” you smiled, rubbing at your eyes a bit.

“Alright. Let’s go to your room then? It’s probably far more comfortable than sitting up here.”

“Are you sure? I mean, I don’t want to disturb you too much or anything.”

He nodded, “I only came up here so I wouldn’t wake you. Come on,” you watched as the necklace and guitar lifted, signifying that he’d stood up. You and him walked back to your room quietly, and you laid back down once you got there. You felt the bed dip next you, and you saw the guitar shift into a playing position. He started playing, and you heard him start singing once again. His gentle sounds quickly lulled you into sleep.

And if you woke up feeling a bit colder than usual, and more specifically a cold spot where an arm would have wrapped around your waist, neither of you mentioned it.

Tommy did talk your ear off that morning, excited to finally be able to talk to you, making comments about how “he’d wanted to talk to you weeks ago” and that “he’d only kept quiet because Wilbur said he had to.” Communication was a lot easier now that they felt comfortable speaking to you. There was a consequence to hearing them now, though. Wilbur’s flirting only got more bold. When you’d get ready for work, he’d always meet you outside your room with a smart comment about how “lucky those coworkers of yours are if they get to see you looking like that all day”. It was interesting, though, the little things you’d noticed about him. He was always more flirty during the daytime, but once it was night, he was more soft. You’d grown used to the chilled feeling that comes from his arms wrapping around you as he whispered about how glad he was that you’d stayed.

He didn’t really sleep. Neither of them needed it, but you found that Tommy liked to, so you always kept the bed in the spare room neat for him. While Wilbur didn’t like to sleep, he was protective of you. It was a bit odd at first that he wanted to be with you when you’d slept, but you found a great deal of comfort in feeling the chill from him pressed against you while you slept. Especially on some nights like tonight.

It wasn’t often you got nightmares anymore. They grew less frequent when Wilbur would hold you in your sleep, but he didn’t always do that every night. You didn’t know what he did when he wasn’t here with you, but you weren’t going to ask. He deserved his privacy, after all. Despite it, you did always miss the feeling of his arms around you. He wasn’t with you when you’d gone to bed.

You woke up screaming. Within seconds, you were pressed against your headboard, head pressed in your hands while you sobbed and gasped for breath, thumb placed on your pulse point. Tommy actually arrived first, your door flinging open and his necklace swinging wildly.

Before he had time to react, Wilbur was rushing in quickly behind him, going straight for you. You felt his arms wrap around you tightly, and the cold did a great deal to shock you out of the panic, leaving you just sobbing. You wrapped your arms around him, though it took you a second to process how he was positioned.

“Hey, it’s okay,” he whispered softly, “you’re right here, you’re with us, it’s okay.”

You leaned into his reassurance. Eventually, you felt more movement on the bed, and Tommy’s hand rested on your back gently as both boys helped you calm down. Your hands gripped onto the feeling of soft fabric that you couldn’t see.

Wilbur continued to whisper reassurances and reminders that you were okay and that he wouldn’t let anything hurt you. When you stopped crying, Wilbur slowly helped you lay back down, never letting go of you for a second. He didn’t want you to think you were alone, even for a second.

You were exhausted when he laid you down, still wrapped in his arms. Your eyes opened, and for a moment, you could’ve sworn you saw the slightest bit of a faded blue sweater through bleary, tear-stained eyes. You didn’t think about it too long, and instead you went to bed in Wilbur’s arms with Tommy next to you, falling asleep quickly from the exhaustion.

(When you woke up, you basically had to wrestle to get out of bed between Wilbur holding you close and Tommy’s limbs strewn out over the two of you. But with a bit of wrangling, you chose to stay in bed and wouldn’t have changed it for the world.)

While your routine was good, there were still some rougher days. Work could go so well before things went wrong. Like today, when you’d fucked up an assignment and proceeded to get yelled at by your boss for about thirty minutes before hiding to cry in the bathroom. You calmed yourself down enough to at least look like you hadn’t cried, using some cold water to calm the redness down your face. You walked home slowly, opening the door, and you were quickly met with Wilbur’s voice chiming out from the living room.

“Welcome home, darling! How was work?”

You dropped your bag at the door, shrugging, “Eh. It was honestly quite shit. For now, I just want to relax a bit.”

He chuckled, “Well, I’ve got some ideas to help you relax.”

Instead of getting flustered, or having any major reaction, you just smiled flatly, sighing a bit. You could feel his concern, sighing again, “I’ll be fine, Wilbur. Just a bad day.”

You walked to your room, grabbing a notebook and a pencil case in the hopes that some drawing would calm you down. You walked back out to the living room, sitting on the couch next to Tommy, who was playing with your Rubix cube again. Wilbur walked over and stood in front of you, and you could feel his eyes on you as you set down your pencil case.

One of the more endearing habits that Tommy had was how he only liked his things near him. He always wanted his space to be the exact way he put things, and he would complain, loudly, if you moved things whatsoever. The most often way he complained? He would just smack things. Just completely push them out of his space and across the room.

And he did that now. You watched as you went to grab a pencil, and before you could, he smacked the pencil case across the room so hard it slammed against the wall before hitting the floor.

“Tommy!” Wilbur chastised, but before he could actually get on his case, you burst out laughing.

Full, genuine laughing, your eyes closing . Your life was so bizarre already, what with the whole living with ghosts thing. And after an absolutely shitty day, one of them just smacked your entire pencil case against the wall just because it was slightly too close to him. It was bizarre and weird and absurd, but it was your life.

You laughed until your ribs were tired. When your eyes opened again, still crinkled at the sides, you were met with a sight, to say the least.

You saw Wilbur. You saw him. He was looking back at you, face flushed and staring at you in awe. Holy shit.

“...Wilbur?”

He looked startled by the fact you made eye contact with him, and he struggled to find words. But god, he was gorgeous. Thick curly brown hair with beautiful brown eyes to match. He was tall, too, and he wore a faded blue sweater and plain black pants.

He didn’t have a chance to respond before Tommy did, and you watched as, within seconds, he went from being completely invisible to… Tommy. He had blond hair and blue eyes, and he was wearing a white t-shirt with red sleeves, and a pair of cargo shorts.

“Thank god, we don’t have to be invisible anymore. I was getting so tired of it, but of course Wilbur said we had to, didn’t want to risk scaring you off, as if you would be!” He barked out a laugh, and you chuckled as well, blinking a bit.

“I’m sorry, what? You- I can see you? And you can control that sort of stuff?”

Tommy snorted, “Of course you can see us. That’s kinda how ghosts work, innit?”

You gave them a closer look, noting that, although you could see them, they were still slightly translucent. “How the hell should I know how ghosts work? I’m not the ghost here!”

You laughed, and Wilbur seemed to finally gain some sense of vocal ability, “We can control it, but our natural state is like this. Well, kind of. There’s a more… accurate form, but we don’t really show that to anyone. We’ve found that it usually scares people out, so we tend to wait.”

You nodded, “What is the more accurate form?”

Wilbur leaned forward, ruffling your hair, “Don’t worry about it.”

You pouted a bit but nodded regardless, “Okay. Well, as weird as it is, it’s also… really cool. I didn’t think I’d ever be able to see you guys.” You took Wilbur’s hand, inspecting it carefully. Other than the slight translucent nature of them, they just looked normal. A bit paler than they probably would have been alive, but still just completely normal.

You let go of his hand, looking up at him, “Sorry, it’s just interesting.” Wilbur chuckled, and it was so different to actually see him laugh rather than just hearing it, “It’s okay. You don’t have to apologize, darling.”

You flushed lightly, and Wilbur took immediate notice, leaning in close to your face.

“Are you going shy on me, darling?” His hand gently cupped your chin, “Do you just find me that attractive?” Your cheeks flamed up, and as you stuttered out a response, Tommy groaned, smacking Wilbur’s shoulder.

“Take your flirting shit out of here, dickhead.”

Wilbur scoffed, sitting next to you instead, “Hey, I put up with your shit attempts at flirting with Molly for months, I’m allowed to have my fun.”

“I am not shit at flirting! And even if I was, you’re the one who taught me, so that would mean you’re also shit!” Tommy exclaimed, putting the Rubix cube down.

“You never listened to my instructions!”

“Because they were stupid”

You rolled your eyes as they continued to bicker, standing and walking towards your room. You waved a hand nonchalantly, “I’m going to take a bath. You guys just keep… doing whatever is it you do.” “Want my help in there, darling?” You flushed, flipping him off behind your back, “Unless you’re bringing me wine and leaving right after, I do not need your help.”

You walked into the bathroom and got a warm bubble bath ready quickly, getting into the water and relaxing as the heat soothed your sore muscles. You played music from your phone softly, closing your eyes and letting the water alleviate your troubles from the day.

After a few minutes, there was a knock on the door. You fixed the curtain to maintain your modesty, before humming out a soft, “Come in.”

Wilbur opened the door with a smug grin, a glass of wine in his hand.

You laughed, “Jesus, I didn’t even think we had wine in the house.” “We do, it was just too high for you to reach.” He chuckled, walking over to hand you the glass.

“Oh? And who put it up there then?” You took the glass, taking a sip.

“Hm, I wonder.” He chuckled, crouching down to be eye-level with you, “You feeling any better?”

You nodded softly, smiling, “Yeah. Just had a rough day, I guess.”

He sat down, nodding, “I figured. It took you longer to get home than usual, and you just seemed a bit down. I’m glad Tommy was able to make you laugh, even if the whole reveal thing wasn’t planned.”

You hummed, “It definitely was a shock. I do like being able to see you, even if I’m still just processing it. It’s easier to tell where you are.”

“Oh, I bet,” he laughed, “But sneaking up on you is half the fun.”

“For you,” you rolled your eyes, “I quite like being able to see my housemates. I’m almost offended, actually, that you hid such a pretty face from me for so long.”

It was an incredibly satisfying feeling to actually watch him get flustered, his cheeks turning pink while he looked away.

He composed himself, clearing his throat, “Didn’t want to scare such a pretty person away is all. Especially such a kind one.”

You flushed, taking another sip of wine. “Well, I can definitely say I’m not scared.”

He smiled (a beautiful sight to see), reaching a hand up to gently play with your hair, “Good. For a moment there I thought you’d just bolt when you saw me.”

“Honestly,” you chuckled, leaning into his touch, “You guys having a form I can see is the least weird thing I’ve dealt with since I’ve moved in.”

He laughed, “Yeah, I guess that’s true. We’ve just… grown to be a bit wary of showing ourselves to people. Molly was the most recent one, actually, and that was because she snuck in without us noticing. The first time someone moved in, we didn’t think to hide ourselves, and that’s what led to all the rumors and everything.”

You nodded, “Shitty exploitative people or people running for the hills?”

“We’ve had both,” he sighed.

“How do you guys know about all the rumors and stuff though? Did Molly tell you?”

He shook his head, “We can’t leave the house most days, but there are a few exceptions. We can leave on Halloween, and the anniversary of our deaths. Or if we possess someone.”

“Wha- okay, you can not just say that like it’s a casual thing. You can possess people?”

He chuckled, looking coy, “Yeah. We don’t do it often, only if we really need to or if we’re given permission.”

You nodded, “That’s respectful, I guess. When would you need to?”

He shrugged, “We’ve done it to protect people. There was a kid living in here with the last family, and he nearly drowned, so I had to possess his father to save him. The only problem is that, usually when we do it, people move out right after. But if we can stop another person from dying here, we’ll jump at the opportunity.”

“That makes sense,” you hummed softly, “Must feel weird to get possessed.”

He hummed, “I’ve heard it is. Tommy’s possessed Molly before so they could go on like pseudo-dates. She said you’re still aware of everything, you just can’t move your body yourself. She and Tommy were able to talk in her head, though so it’s not as scary as you’d think, as long as you know it’s happening. There are some side effects for a short while afterwards though.”

“Like?”

“She said that she felt freezing cold for a while after. She had a few bruises as well, but that could’ve easily just been from Tommy remembering how to manuver an actual body. That’s another thing, if you do it for too long, you kind of forget how to move your own body, so she had to sit to keep herself from falling.”

You nodded, humming, “that’s not too bad.”

“Well, yeah. That’s with permission, though. Most of the people we’ve possessed without permission haven’t exactly stuck around long enough for us to ask how they feel afterwards.”

You leaned your head on the edge of the tub, going silent as you thought. “We could do that one day, if you want.”

“What?” He stopped his hand, eyebrows pinching together.

“Yeah, like Molly and Tommy do. That way you can go outside a bit more and do stuff that you can’t do anymore.”

He grinned softly, “Is this your way of asking me on a date?”

You groaned, and he immediately laughed at your reaction. “I’m trying to be nice, dumbass.”

“I know, I know. But man it is so much more fun to flirt with you when you can actually see me. You get flustered so much easier.” “Maybe I’m not used to seeing cute boys flirt with me.”

He frowned slightly, and it quickly dissolved into a grin, “Well, you’ll get used to it soon enough because I definitely don’t plan on stopping. Unless it makes you uncomfortable.”

You smiled gently, “It doesn’t. I would’ve asked you to stop a long time ago if it actually made me uncomfortable.”

“Good. Because I am going to be so much worse about it now that I can flirt physically with you.”

“Oh, god.”

“I’ll make it good for you. Don’t stress.”

You chuckled, taking another sip, “I’m not stressed, more concerned about how I’ll ever be able to deal with a cute guy flirting with me all the time.”

“Well, I’ll take good care of you, obviously.”

You smiled, biting your lip softly, “Thanks, Wilbur.”

He smiled, running his hand through your hair once more. “Of course, darling. What do you want for dinner? I can start making it while you finish up here.”

You sighed softly, “I have no clue honestly.”

“So surprise you?”

You grinned softly, “Yeah. Just please don’t burn down the house. I like living here with you guys.”

“Alright, so don’t let Tommy into the kitchen, got it.”

You laughed, and he gave you that look again, the same one he was giving you when you saw his face for the first time.

“I guess so.” You hummed softly.

“Alright, well, I’ll go get started,” He stood, and he leaned over, pressing a kiss to your forehead gently before walking out.

It took your brain a moment to catch up before you felt yourself blushing deeply once more. It was a new but definitely welcome sensation, the feeling of his lips on your forehead left a gentle chill. You bit down a smile, but even if you really tried, you wouldn’t have been able to hide the gentle grin. You took a final sip of your wine, setting the glass down and letting yourself sink into the water.

You got out of the bath and got dressed, taking your glass and walking out into the living room. You weren’t quite used to just being able to see them, almost feeling startled as you saw Tommy sitting on the couch playing on your old DS, and seeing Wilbur standing in the kitchen.

You shook it off, walking to the kitchen and looking for the wine.

Wilbur looked over at you, smiling softly, “Feeling better?”

“Yeah,” you nodded, “How’s dinner coming along?”

“Good,” he smiled, walking over and wrapping his lanky arms around you while you poured yourself some more wine. You leaned into his grasp, smiling softly.

“Yeah? House hasn’t burnt down, so that says something at least.”

He chuckled, wrapping you up tighter in his arms, “I still remember mostly what I’m doing. I used to cook for Tommy when our parents were working.”

“You haven’t spoken much about your parents.” You noted quietly.

He sighed, leaning his head on you, “No. I haven’t. I try not to think about them too much.”

You nodded softly and didn’t ask further. Instead, you relaxed in his arms and drank your wine. He swayed a bit, and you chuckled, closing your eyes.

“It’s still weird being able to see you.”

“Yeah? Like what you see.”

You chuckled, flushing, “Maybe. Is there a problem if I do?”

“The opposite, actually, darling. I think it’s absolutely lovely. But not as lovely as you.”

“Wilbur?”

“Yes, my darling?”

“Something is very much burning on the stove.”

He quickly pulled away, rushing to the pot on the stove and taking it off the heat.

“Oops,” he grinned at you sheepishly, “Sorry, love. You’re just so distracting.”

You flushed and rolled your eyes, “Maybe I shouldn’t have trusted you in the kitchen either.”

He scoffed, “I’ll have you know I’m a great cook. This was simply a method of cooking, I’m enfusing the food with smoky flavor.”

You laughed, rolling your eyes a bit, “You’re such a dork.”

When you looked back at him, he was giving you the biggest grin. He turned, grinning down at the counter as he worked on plating the food for you. He handed you the plate, gently kissing your head.

“I kept the burnt parts out of it.”

You blushed, smiling, “Thank you, Wilbur.”

“Of course, darling.”

You started eating, and he watched you as you did, waiting for your reaction.

“Holy shit, Wilbur, this is fantastic.”

He threw his arms up, cheering, “Yes! Oh, I’m so glad you like it. It’s been a long time since I cooked.”

“It’s amazing, seriously, thank you.”

He smiled, wrapping his arms around you again, “It’s actually our mom’s recipe. She was the best cook, taught me everything I know.”

“Well, she taught you well.” You ate more, and Wilbur was absolutely beaming behind you.

The rest of the night was quite calm, just sitting with Tommy and Wilbur, watching videos and stuff. You got tired quite quickly, so the three of you retired to bed, Wilbur following you. You both got comfortable quickly, your head resting on his chest. His hand gently trailed up and down your back, and the sensation used to make you shiver, but now it just felt comforting. In the silence, you began thinking.

“Wilbur?” You spoke softly.

“Hm?”

“You’re very touchy,” you stated plainly.

He chuckled, “That’s true.”

“Why?”

He was quiet for a moment before speaking up, “I like the feeling. Reminds me of being alive, I guess.”

“How so?” You asked quietly.

“Well,” he took one hand, gently placing it on your cheek, “it warms me slightly, same way it cools you. So it becomes grounding, after a while. Especially when I start to comprehend the reality of the fact that I am a ghost, I can’t leave, and I don’t know if I’ll be like this forever or if one day I’ll just suddenly stop existing. It’s scary sometimes to think about the fact that, at one point, I was living, and I got killed, and now I am undead, and I don’t know why. I don’t know if one day, just by saying something, I’ll fade. You weren’t wrong when you said ghosts are probably scared of their own situation because we are. There’s no rulebook to being a ghost, and I remember, the first few years, I was just so aware of my own… mortality, if you can even call it that. And it was terrifying. Tommy and I mostly stayed in the attic at all times because we didn’t know if we’d fully move on just by walking out the door. So, when I touch you, it helps pull me out of that fear. Because I remember that being alive was just as terrifying because there is no rulebook to living either. And it’s grounding. If I could do it once before, I can do it again. You remind me of being alive. Because you’re the first person to look at me, even when you couldn’t see me, and have empathy before anything else. So touching you and being around you, it makes me feel something other than the usual dread and sadness, and I will cling to that as much as I can while I still have time with you.”

You leaned into his touch, shifting a bit to wrap an arm around him. You didn’t really have a response. It was the most vulnerable he’d ever been.

You cuddled your head further into his chest, nodding softly, “If you ever need it, you know, i’m here for you. I don’t know much about ghosts or living, and I’d never given the things much thought before moving in here. But anything that can help you, I’m willing to help you with. Even if it means having you attached at my hip all day. You know better than anyone just how fragile life is. I could die tomorrow. So, we need to make the most out of what we have, I guess.”

He smiled, kissing the top of your head gently, “That’s all we can do. It’s what made life worth living, and it’s what makes being stuck like this worth it too. Just appreciating every moment, even if all we have is your living and my ghostly-ness.” He chuckled softly, and you did too.

You gently moved his hand from your cheek, solely so you could hold it. “Goodnight, Wilbur.”

“Goodnight, my love.”

You and Wilbur got closer seamlessly. You don’t know what made it so easy to talk with him or just be around him. Overtime, his flirting got bolder, but so did yours. You’d be lying to yourself if you were to say that you weren’t attracted to him. You absolutely were. You were just conflicted.

You didn’t know how human-ghost relationships worked. You knew they happened, obviously, Molly and Tommy were clear proof of it. But you didn’t really know how they worked. One person was dead, firstly, but there was also the concept that their spirit had a high chance of outliving you. You would grow older, but Wilbur would always be twenty-six. Unless you died, of course, but that would be a pretty major commitment to make, and it honestly made your head hurt to think about. Plus, that’s if Wilbur even would be okay with that which, based on the way he spoke about being dead, he wouldn’t be. The morals and mortality honestly gave you a headache. So you talked to the only other person who would possibly understand.

When Molly walked in that morning, you were quick to stop her from walking up to where Tommy would be.

“Molly! Can I talk to you for a moment?” “Uh, yeah, sure.”

You carefully pulled her into the backyard, sitting down on the concrete porch.

“I… have a few questions.” You spoke softly in case of any peeping ears.

“Oh?” She sat down next to you, “What about?”

You sighed, “You and Tommy’s relationship. How does it work?”

She chuckled, “What do you mean?”

“I just… I’ve been thinking a lot about like how a ghost-human relationship could work, and I just feel overwhelmed. I like Wilbur,” you admitted softly, blush rising to your cheeks, “But I keep thinking about how a relationship between me and him would work since it’s… unconventional.”

“Well, I’ve found your problem already,” she gave you a kind smile, “You think too much. With Tommy, we don’t think about it. We’re both aware of how weird it is, and how it probably won’t last forever, but we don’t mind. I mean, he and I have been dating for months, and I’ve never been able to tell anyone for obvious reasons. We just honestly don’t think about it. And maybe that’s not healthy, but it’s what’s right and what works for us right now. So that’s all that matters.”

You nodded, resting your head on your knee, “It doesn’t bother you? That you don’t know?”

“Honestly? No,” she shrugged, “It’s something about living in the moment, you know. Sometimes I think about it, but I know that there’s really nothing Tom and I can do anything about it. So, I just don’t think about it since I can’t find a solution.”

You nodded again, “Thanks, Molly.” She patted your shoulder, “Listen, if you want my advice, I say do it. Wilbur is absolutely head over heels for you. And even if he is blind to it, I can tell you are the same way about him. So, don’t think about it much, just do it. If it makes you both happy, then it’s worth it.”

You flushed, nodding, “I just have to figure out how. Thank you, Molly.”

“I have work off today, so I was probably going to let Tommy possess me so we can go for a walk, if you want some privacy,” she winked, standing and heading inside.

You sat there with nothing but the deep blush on your cheeks and the things she had told you.

You were thankful for the later privacy, though, solely because you didn’t want Tommy there when you confessed. It was nerve-wracking enough without Tommy there to potentially make fun of you.

After dinner, you and WIlbur were sitting on the couch like normal, but you couldn’t focus, too in your head about how to word everything perfectly and oh god, what if he says no.

“Darling, are you okay?” Wilbur asked, pulling you out of your thoughts.

You nodded, biting your lip. You turned, facing him now, and gently taking his hand, “I want to… talk about something.”

“Oh?” he turned, holding your hand tightly, “What’s up?”

Fuck, you really should’ve practiced this before hand. “It’s just…” here goes nothing, “I like you, Wilbur. I’ve known for a bit now, I just didn’t really know what to say or if it would be good to even bring it up until I talked to Molly today, but, yeah. I like you. And, if you’ll take me, I’d- I’d like to be your partner.”

For the first time in your little speech, you looked up to him. And he, god, he looked ecstatic. He had a soft smile on his face, but you could see in his eyes just how overjoyed he was.

“Darling, nothing would make me happier. I’d be a fool to not take you,” he squeezed your hand gently, “Can I kiss you?”

You nodded, and he brought a hand up, slowly guiding your lips together. The kiss was enchanting, and the sensation – a mix of cool and tingling – it reminded you of peppermint chapstick. You held onto his shoulder gently, kissing him back and putting just as much love into it as it gave you.

You both pulled away quickly, solely due to the sound of the door opening. Both of your heads whipped towards the sound, watching as Molly-Tommy walked in, and after a moment, you watched Tommy’s spirit separate, and he carefully held onto Molly, so she wouldn’t fall. Once he looked over, both of you red-faced and looking like you were clearly caught, he raised his free arm up, cheering, “Holy shit! Wilbur finally got bitches!”

Your relationship with Wilbur was surprisingly easy. Not much actually changed between the two of you, aside from kissing and making out more. He slept in your bed more often, though he still had those nights when he would disappear to the attic. He also tended to be more generally affectionate rather than flirty, now that he knew it was okay to kiss you when he felt like it.

There was something not-house related that popped up recently though. You didn’t notice it for the first few days, but by the fourth day it was glaringly obvious. Every day that you would leave your house for work, you noticed a man, around mid-fourties, sitting on a bench across the street. He would follow your path to work, but he would never interact. It made you feel uneasy, though. You told a few of your coworkers, and they all agreed that it was weird, but you refrained from telling Wilbur and Tommy. You didn’t want any problems, you just mostly wanted to figure out why this guy kept watching you.

Thankfully, it didn’t take too long to find out. On the second week of this occurring, he actually came up to you, holding a single flower out towards you.

When he spoke, it sounded as though he hadn’t spoken properly in about two years, and it sent a shiver down your spine, but none of his words were mean or harmful.

“Hello. I’m sorry to bother you,” he handed you the flower, a red chrysanthemum, before continuing, “it’s just, well, I used to be friends with the boys who lived in that house. Not a lot of people move in there, so when I heard you did, I got a bit curious.”

You accepted the flower, somewhat shocked by the plainness of his statement, “Oh. I understand the curiosity, the house has quite a reputation. It’s a lovely place, though.”

He nodded, “I loved being in there. I’ve heard the reputation it has as well, but I wanted to ask, as the current owner, do you believe in any of it? I’m not quite sure I believe in these ghost stories.”

You chuckled softly. You had gotten used to lying about your ghostly boyfriend and roommates, “No, I don’t believe in any of it. However, if it keeps my payments low, I don’t mind.”

That brought a laugh out of him, and it eased your nerves a bit. “I get that. Sorry if I weirded you out at all, It’s just- not exactly easy to come up to people and ask if they believe in ghosts.”

“People do it all the time now, actually,” you hummed. It wasn’t uncommon, these days, for anyone who knew you lived there to ask those types of questions. “But you said you were friends with the boys?”

He nodded, “Yes. We were good friends for a long time. It was tragic what happened to them, but I am glad to hear that you haven’t had any problems. I always worried that their souls may not have been able to move on.”

You gave a soft smile, “Yeah, I worried the same when I moved in. I imagine it’d be quite scary to exist like that. But, no issues, really.”

“That’s good, then. The boys were so kind, too. William and Thomas, their names were.”

“Oh, really?” You asked, as if you didn’t know.

For the next week, every day, that man would walk with you to work, telling stories about the boys, and every day, he would bring you a red chrysanthemum. It was nice to hear about the boys when they were alive, even if it was a bit chilling to think about how they lived before knowing what would become of them.

One day, the man brought a whole bouquet of the red chrysanthemums, and you accepted them with a soft smile. As he told stories, he spoke in a bit of a far-away tone.

“I’ve always wanted to go back in, actually. To see where we all used to goof off. I think it would be a nice way to get closure, after all that’s happened. The guy who killed them, he was smart, really smart, but he never got caught, so their story never got closure. I never got closure. I’m not sure, I’ve just always thought that, just walking around and seeing their rooms, it would help.”

That brought a thought to your brain. This guy used to be their friend, and Wilbur said that they always wondered what happened to all the people who they never saw anymore. It would be a really nice surprise for them!

“Well, if you’d like, once I get off of work, I can let you in, let you walk around a bit?”

He grinned, “Really? Oh, that would be lovely. You get home around six usually, yes?”

You nodded softly, “Yeah.”

“Perfect! Oh, thank you so much, it would truly be the best thing to be able to see in there again. You don’t know how much you’ve truly done for me.”

When you got home, he was waiting at your front porch. You smiled softly at him, waving as you went to unlock the door. You opened the door slowly, to give the boys time to go invisible when they realized there was someone in the house.

“You can just take a seat on the couch, alright? I’m going to put my stuff away and then I’ll walk the place with you.”

He nodded, taking a seat and looking around. You walked to your room to put your bag away, but the moment you closed the door, you were met with the two ghosts, startling you backwards.

“Jesus, you guys scared me,” you whispered.

“What the fuck is going on right now?” Tommy whispered harshly.

Wilbur just looked angry, the silent type of angry that honestly put fear in you as well.

“What are you talking about? Him?”

“Of fucking course, we’re talking about him! Why is he here?” It was weird to hear Tommy sounding so quiet and panicked.

“He said he used to be your friend. I wanted to surprise you guys,” you smiled a bit, not yet understanding why they both looked so upset and fearful and angry.

“That dickhead was not our friend.” “What? Tommy, what are you on about?”

“Love, that’s the man who murdered us.” Wilbur spoke for the first time, anger clear in his voice.

You felt a chill go down your spine, straightening, “What?”

“The bastard pretended to be our friend, talking to us, bringing us shit like gifts and flowers,” you felt your entire body go cold as Tommy continued, “All so he could fucking murder us.”

“He’s been giving me flowers every day.” You noted simply, and the two of them both lost all the fear in their expressions, now just looking purely angry and protective. They shared a look before looking back at you. Wilbur placed a hand on your shoulder, gently despite the ferocity in his expression.

“Go back out there before he gets suspicious, but if he wants to go to the attic, do not walk in first, let him go first. You hear me?”

You nodded quickly, and Wilbur pulled you forward, kissing you passionately, “I won’t let him fucking touch you,” he growled out softly.

You kissed him back, slowly pulling out from Wilbur’s grasp and heading back out into the living room, a bit more stiff than before.

“You ready to look around?” You asked, trying to sound as normal as possible. He nodded, standing up. You and him walked upstairs to the boys’s rooms, and the entire time you could feel Wilbur and Tommy’s presence behind you.

You went to both of the boy’s old rooms, and he seemed completely normal, talking about all the times he’d seen the boys in here. After Wilbur’s room, he spoke up properly.

“Can we see the attic? The boys and I used to hang out there at night.”

You gulped softly and nodded, “Do you remember where it is?”

He smiled and nodded, “of course! I remember sneaking up there with them all the time.”

“Alright, lead the way then.” You gestured for him to lead the way, but he shook his head.

“Oh, no, I couldn’t, it’s your house after all.”

“No, really, I insist.”

He tilted his head, smiling, and this time it brought you waves of unease, “Is there something wrong?”

Fuck. There were two ways this could go. You could say yes, and he could just kill you right here. Or you could say no and deal with Wilbur’s anger later.

You’d rather deal with Wilbur’s anger later.

“...No. Nothing’s wrong, um, follow me, I guess.” You started walking upstairs to the attic, and you practically hear Wilbur’s curses in your ear.

You opened the door and walked in, and the man walked in behind you. Before either of you had a chance to react, the door slammed shut and locked, and you were pulled into the chair on the otherside of the room.

You watched Wilbur reappear, standing over you protectively. Tommy reappeared after, standing by the door. The man looked around wildly at the two of the them, stuttering.

“You- you said they weren’t real!” He looked at you angrily, and he started advancing towards you.

Wilbur grabbed your hands, placing them on top of your eyes. “Do not open your eyes.” He ordered, and all you could do was hear for a few minutes as the sound of strange whispers filled the room. There was light coming from the center of the room that you could vaguely make out from behind your hands, and soon, there was the sound of the man screaming. The room felt heavy, as if every negative emotion you’d ever known was flowing into your body all at once.

You knew you shouldn’t, but you couldn’t help your curiosity as you peered between two fingers.

Tommy and Wilbur stood over the man as he sank into what appeared to be a portal into the floor. That wasn’t what really caught your attention, though.

What caught your attention was Tommy and Wilbur’s appearances. This must’ve been the true form they mentioned, you realized. They looked nearly decrepit, Tommy’s stomach covered in blood, and his neck showing a long open wound. Wilbur wasn’t much better, a clear stab wound going straight through his chest. If you looked hard enough, you could see through it. His face had a long scratch going down the side, hitting through his eye. There was another stab wound on him, a clear chunk taken out of his arm. Both of their eyes were glowing, Wilbur’s a haunting cold blue, and Tommy’s a deep red.

You gasped softly and quickly covered your eyes in full again. No wonder they didn’t want you to see it. It was entirely haunting to see.

A few minutes later, Wilbur walked over and pulled your hands off of your eyes. The light, the portal, and the man were all gone. You had started crying at some point after seeing them like that, and Wilbur quickly pulled you into his arms.

“It’s okay, he’s gone.” He whispered, kissing the top of your head and rubbing your back soothingly. You sobbed against him, gently moving a hand to the center of his chest to make sure the wound wasn’t there anymore even if you’d already seen him looking normal.

He seemed to realize what you were doing pretty quickly, but he never let go of you or seemed upset in the slightest, “You saw, didn’t you?”

You nodded, another wave of sobs wracking your body.

He sighed softly, just holding you closer, “I’m sorry, darling. I never wanted you to see that. I’m so so sorry,” he whispered.

You didn’t respond, just sobbing against him and clinging onto him desperately.

He helped you calm down, and after you got past the tears from processing their true forms, you had to come to terms with the stark reality that you would have absolutely been killed, the same way the boys had, if they weren’t there for you.

The house was mostly quiet the rest of the night, though Wilbur and Tommy were both clearly filled with a sense of relief.

You asked Wilbur about it later as you rested on his chest in bed. “Are you and Tommy happy he’s gone?”

He hummed, looking down at you, “He’s not gone, per se. Just in his own personal hell. It felt good, but, if you’re wondering why we’re both relieved, that’s not why.”

He got better at reading you as you two grew closer, and this was clear evidence of it, “Then why?”

“We didn’t know if that would be it for us,” he sighed softly, “There’s always been this idea that ghosts stick around due to unfinished business. We don’t know if that’s true or not, but we always assumed, if it was, it was because he was still here. So, there was a chance that when we got rid of him, we both would’ve just ceased to exist, or moved on to the afterlife, whatever. We’re relieved that didn’t happen. Neither of us could stand leaving you and Molly like that, with no clue what happened to us.”

You nodded softly, “But, wouldn’t it have been nice? To move on?”

“No,” he almost laughed, “Not without you.”

You held onto him tighter, nodding softly. “He would’ve killed me, if you two weren’t here.” You whispered.

He nodded, but he didn’t speak.

“If we let him, maybe I would’ve been here with you guys forever, like you are now.”

He looked at you, horrified, “Darling, don’t start with that. There’s absolutely no way we could’ve been certain of that, and I don’t want this for you. I want you to live a full life, and I don’t even want to know what would’ve happened if he killed you and your spirit didn’t stay. It would’ve been devastating for both of us, Tommy too. So, please, don’t start with that. I’m glad you are alive.”

You nodded softly, and his arms tightened around you, “I owe you both my life regardless.” He chuckled lightly, leaning down and kissing you gently, “Darling, the only thing you owe us is your happiness. All I want is for you to be happy. Nothing else matters to me anymore.”

You smiled, kissing him back lovingly.

“I love you, Wilbur.”

He smiled, eyes glowing the same blue, but lighter this time, as you exchanged your first ‘I love you’s. “I love you too, darling.”

#wilbur soot x reader #wilbur soot #mcyt x reader #dsmp x reader #mar writes #wilbur x reader #mcyt x you #wilbur soot x you #wilbur soot fanfiction #mcytumblr #mcyt wilbur #theres an alt ending :)#not written out but :)#i know what it is :)

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tortillamastersblog · 9 days

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✐ Seven Years | Kara Danvers ✎

Pairing: Kara Danvers x reader

Warnings: slight angst

Summary: Seven years is a long time, but you’ve never given up on Kara.

________________________________________________

Seven Years Ago

A knock on my door makes me shoot up in bed. After crash landing on earth with Mon El I’m still getting used to my super hearing.

I rub my eyes and check my phone for the time, frowning when I see it’s two in the morning. I get out of bed and use my x-ray vision to see who’s at the door.

Much to my surprise I realize it’s Kara and the way she holds herself is very unusual. She’s leaned against the doorframe, her hair a mess and her glasses are askew on the bridge of her nose.

“Hey, what are you doing here this late?” I ask when I open the door.

Kara’s head shoots up and her hazy, glassy eyes meet mine. She sways when she pushes herself off the doorframe and when she slurs a, “Heyyy,” I smell alien liquor on her breath.

I sigh and step aside, letting her in wordlessly. This isn’t the first time she’s shown up drunk at my doorstep and I’m pretty sure tonight it’s for the exact same reason as last time.

“What did he do this time?” I say, exasperated as Kara flops down on my couch face first.

Mon El. . .

I love my twin brother, don’t get me wrong, but he can be such a jackass sometimes.

Since he started going out with Kara, he has changed for the better, but sometimes he slips up and that’s when I get involved because not long after waking up here on Earth, Kara’s took an instant liking to me.

Unlike my brother I didn’t break out of the DEO, I didn’t send out a distress call that got me arrested, and I’ve never believed our people’s claims that the Kryptonians were responsible for all our hardships, which meant Kara and I became friends rather quickly.

And as her friend I’m one of the only people she can talk to about Mon El because I know him better than anyone and I’m more often than not the one who talks some sense into him whenever he messes up.

Now, I could say I don’t mind because that’s what friends are for, but I do because I hate how I was too shy to ask her out and when I mentioned it to him, he swooped in and asked her out himself.

It’s like he doesn’t even care about her and only did it to one-up me once again, the same way he’s been doing all his life.

Kara groans and I take a seat beside her head, taking off her glasses so she doesn’t accidentally break them. “He just doesn’t listen!”

Yeah, I’ve heard that one before.

I sigh and scratch at my eyebrow. “Why? What happened?”

I don’t want to know. It makes me furious, seeing how he treats her, but I want to be a good friend, so I’m offering her a shoulder to cry on.

Kara takes a deep breath before sitting up. She looks like a bug wiggling its legs in the air while doing so, but she manages to do it and sinks back into the cushions, her head landing on my shoulder.

It’s a familiar position and even though I know it’s friendly on her part, I can’t help the butterflies that erupt in my stomach every time she’s this close.

She smells like floral perfume and liquor, the latter being a little overwhelming for my sensitive nose, but I couldn’t care less. All that matteres right now is that she’s comfortable and safe.

God, what would the world do if they saw Supergirl in this state? Wasted over a fight with her boyfriend. . .

I shake my head and force myself not to think like that. Kara isn’t just Supergirl; perfect, charming and selfless. She’s also Kara and she, like everyone else, isn’t perfect.

“We were dealing with some bank robbers earlier,” she starts, still slurring her words but sounding more sober than before, “and I told him— I TOLD him— I had it under control, but he swooped in anyway.”

Yup, that sounds like him.

I have the same powers he has, but I don’t want to be a superhero. I just want to live a normal life, just like I’ve always wanted, even back on Daxam, and because I now have the freedom to choose, I choose to work as a manager and barista at Noonan’s. I like connecting with people and the simplicity of the job, which makes it perfect.

From time to time I do help the DEO of course, but only if I really have to. Otherwise I stick to my new, boring life.

I hum in acknowledgment and wait for Kara to continue.

“They got away with the money,” she says, “and I got a slab of concrete hurled at me. . . And then he has the audacity to accuse me of letting them get away, as if I didn’t have to use my body to shield them and prevent him from accidentally killing them with that piece of concrete!”

“I— Wow.” Is all I can manage to say and when I look to my left I’m startled to find Kara looking up at me with big, puppy dog eyes.

“Why can’t he just listen?” she whispers, her eyes darting between mine. “I mean, you listen. You always listen. Why can’t he?”

I swallow thickly and look at my hands in my lap. Mon El and I might be twins, but that’s where the similarities end.

I feel myself getting hot under Kara’s intense stare, so clear my throat and mumble, “I don’t know, Kara. But I’m sorry he’s acting like this.”

I would never do something like that to you.

I don’t say that because we’re just friends and because I’m not going to be the one who ruins their relationship.

Kara sighs and rests her head back on my shoulder, closing her eyes. She wraps her arms around my arm and within seconds her breathing evens out and I know she’s asleep.

Damn you, Mon El . . .

I shift around until I can get out of her embrace, carefully directing her so she’s lying on the couch. I take off her shoes and drape a thin blanket over her, knowing full well that she won’t be going anywhere anytime soon.

Now

I cough and blink my eyes open. Everything is white and blurry, so I rub my eyes with my hands.

A familiar face swims in front of me and when I blink a couple of times, it comes into focus.

“Brainy?” I ask, coughing once more. “Are we back in the 31st century?”

He shakes his head and runs a hand through his hair. “No. There have been some. . . complications.”

My eyebrows shoot up and I step out of the cryo-pod. My clothes are sticking to my body and I gladly accept the stack of dry clothes Brainy holds out. “What kind of complications? Where’s Mon El? Is he still asleep?”

Brainy’s eye twitches in a telltale way and he turns around when I start taking off my shirt. “No, he is awake. He is out looking for a power source for the ship.”

I narrow my eyes at the back of his head and finish changing, running a hand through my damp hair. “Where exactly is he? I know there something you’re not telling me, Brainy.”

He peaks over his shoulder to make sure I’m decent before turning back around. “There is nothing I’m not telling you, Y/N.“

I scoff and brush past him to the ships main computer to see what’s going on. Before I can get my hands on the control panel though, he slips in front of me, blocking my view.

“What are you doing?” he asks.

I raise an eyebrow. “What am I doing? What are you doing? Move, please.”

He shakes his head and grimaces. “I can’t do that.”

Frustration bubbles in the pit of my stomach and I clench my jaw so as to not snap at him. “Why not? What is going on?!”

Brainy opens and closes his mouth like a fish out of water, but nothing comes out.

“Brainy, I swear—“

“Y/N.”

I spin around at the familiar voice and glare at my brother who’s dressed in his red Legion suit.

“Mon El.” I acknowledged him with a nod and send Brainy one last glare before asking, “What’s going on? Where are we? Or should I say when are we?”

“It doesn’t matter. I’ve got what we need and we should be back home in no time,” he replies and when my eyes drop to his hands I realize he’s holding a power cell.

Why is no one telling me what is going on?

My frustration turns into anger when Mon El tries to move past me without elaborating, so I grab his arm and yank him back.

“Either you tell me what’s going on right now, or I’m leaving the ship to find out myself!” I seethe through gritted teeth and it fills me with satisfaction to see him flinch ever so slightly.

He quickly reassumes his unfazed demeanor though and calmly replies, “Look, you weren’t supposed to wake up before I got back. We’re not home yet, which is all that matters, but I have what we need to get back, so don’t worry.”

I’m about to lunge at him when Imra boards the ship, also dressed in her Legion suit.

So they were out together. . .

“Mon El, Kara told me—“

She freezes when her eyes land on me and when it registers what she just said my heart drops. I let go of Mon El’s arm and turn to face her with shaking hands. “What did you just say?”

It’s almost a whisper but because it’s dead silent right now, Imra hears me.

“Y/N. You’re awake,” she says carefully, her eyes darting between me and Mon El.

“Yeah, no shit.” I take big step forward so I’m face to face with her, pointing at her chest. “Now tell me. What were you going to say?“

She swallows thickly, looking like a deer caught in headlights and when I don’t back down, her eyes drop to the floor and she mumbles, “Kara wanted me to tell Mon El that Winn managed to locate another power cell, should we need one that is. . .”

My jaw drops and my heart races in my chest. I spin around and stare at Mon El in disbelief.

“Kara?” I croak. “Kara?!“

Mon El sets down the power cell and hols out his hands to calm me down, but I’m way past the point of being calmed down now. “Y/N, please don’t make a big deal out of this. I—“

“No, you don’t get to talk to me like that!” I cried, feeling tears well up in my eyes. “How dare you not tell me we were back?”

His face is contorted into a conflicted grimace, and he tries to come up with an excuse, but I’m not having it.

“You weren’t going to wake me up, were you? You weren’t ever going to tell me about this, were you?” My voice breaks more and more as I continue speaking until I’m a crying mess.

“Y/N. . .” Imra places a hand on my shoulder, but I shrug her off, taking several steps back to glare at all three of my supposed friends.

“No, just stop,” I choke out, wiping at my tears. “I’ve waited, hoped, seven years for this moment, and you weren’t going to say anything.“

I stare at each of them for an explanation, or a reason as to why they weren’t going to tell me, but no one says anything, so I square my shoulders and use my sleeve to tame the never ending stream of tears.

“Wow. So much for family,” I scoff and make my way to the ship’s door. No one dares to stop me and as soon as I step outside, there’s only one thing left on my mind: Finding Kara.

Seven Years Ago

“Here you go.” I smile and hand Maya, one of our regulars, her coffee over the counter. She reciprocates the smile and thanks me before leaving.

I grab the next ticket and look it over, seeing that I only have to make a cappuccino and a hot chocolate.

I get to work, moving flawlessly around the space next to my coworker Conan, only to be pulled to the side when I go out back to grab a new crate of coffee beans.

“Kara, what the hell?” I shriek when I see the blonde grinning at me. She’s wearing her Supergirl suit and her blonde hair looks windswept.

“Hi!”

I push my glasses up the bridge of my nose and set down the coffee beans. “You can’t just sneak up on someone like that. One of these days I’m going to have a heart attack because of you,” I say, my lips twitching when she scratches her neck in embarrassment.

“You’re right I’m sorry,” she says, her smile not faltering, “even though I don’t think you could even have a heart attack if you tried.”

I roll my eyes playfully and pull her into a hug. She laughs and hugs back, and I’m pretty sure if I were human she would have broken my neck by now.

“Don’t get smart with me,” I warn with a chuckle when we pull back and she just smiles, tucking a stand of hair behind her ear. “So, what brings you by? Not my idiot brother again, I hope.”

Kara grimaces and shifts awkwardly. “Actually that’s exactly why I came by.”

I deflate and force myself to ignore the hurt that always claws at my heart when she talks about her relationship with Mon El. “Oh, alright then. What happened?”

For the first time ever, she seems to pick up on my change in mood pertaining this particular topic and she frowns. However, when I raise an eyebrow expectantly she clears her throat and a tentative smile tugs at the corner of her lips. “Well, I. . . I broke up with him.”

My eyes widen and I can’t stop a confused, “Why?” from slipping past my lips.

It was probably not the reaction she was expecting because she falters and starts nervously tugging at her skirt. “I-I just realized we don’t working together and he is just so different and— I thought you’d be happy for me.”

Seeing her pout I’m quick to grab her hands and make her look at me. “No, no, no. I am happy for you. I just— I thought maybe he broke your heart and you were sad about it and— I’m sorry. I’m glad you’re okay, and I’m glad you’re happy. That’s all that matters.”

Uncertainty flits across her face and her blue eyes search my face when she asks, “Really?”

I nod and squeeze her hands with a soft smile. “Really.”

Kara beams the next second and throws her arms around my neck. “You’re the best friend ever. How about we go out and celebrate tonight? I’ll ask Alex, Lena, and Sam to come, too.”

My heart breaks a little at the word friend, but I don’t let it show when I agree. “Sure. Just text me when and where and I’ll be there.”

“Yay!” Kara giggles and pulls back, her face lit up with happiness.

I smile fondly at the sight, feeling my heart flutter before scolding myself.

Stop, she’s your friend. Nothing else.

I sigh and gesture behind me. “I should get back to work.”

“Of course!” Kara’s eyes widen in realization, but she doesn’t lose her smile.

I return a half-hearted smile and get back to work, hearing the whooshing of her taking off just as the door closes behind me.

Since she broke up with Mon El three months ago, Kara has been around even more than before.

She shows up at Noonan’s daily just to chat which has gotten her in trouble with Snapper more often than not, and she spends most nights on my couch, passed out from her Supergirl duties.

Tonight was game night at her place and everyone except me has already left, leaving behind empty beer bottles and candy wrappers.

It was fun and filled with friendly competition, leaving a lingering warm feeling in the pit of my stomach.

I pick up the empty wine glass Lena drank out of and take it to the kitchen along with some empty beer bottles.

“I told you, you don’t have to do that,” Kara says, joining me in the kitchen with the empty popcorn bowl.

I shrug her off and take the bowl from her, placing it in the dishwasher before wiping my hands on my pants. “And I told you, I don’t mind.”

Kara’s blue eyes soften and she crosses her arms, her hands disappearing in the sleeves of her (my) sweatshirt. She borrowed it one night after showing up at my apartment covered in soot and ash, and she hasn’t returned it since.

The longer she watches me, the more nervous I get and I push my glasses up the bridge of my nose. “So, uh— How’s life?” I ask awkwardly which makes Kara chuckle.

She tilts her head adorably and smiles. “I can’t complain. How about you? How’s Maya?”

I cringe inwardly at the mention of Maya and shake my head with a soft laugh. We went on one date a couple of weeks ago because she asked me out, but I’m too hung up on the blonde in front of me, so I let Maya down gently.

Weirdly enough, Kara hasn’t stopped pestering me about it even though I keep telling her that there’s nothing going on between Maya and I.

“She’s fine I think. I told you I haven’t spoken to her since our date,” I say, drawing shapes on the counter next to me.

Kara raises an eyebrow and her eyes hold something I can’t quite place. “Well, is there someone else then?”

It’s a little weird how interested she is in my love life lately, but I try not to read too much into it.

“No,” I say quietly and Kara uncrosses her arms with a satisfied smile.

“Good. I don’t like sharing my best friend,” she says, placing a hand on my chest.

I swallow thickly and bite the inside of my cheek. “Yup.”

Kara squeezes my shoulder and moves past me, getting comfortable on the couch and looking at me expectantly when I don’t follow.

We usually watch a movie together after everyone’s already gone, but I don’t feel like staying tonight because it just hit me that she’ll never see me as anything other than a friend.

After she broke up with Mon El I thought I might get my chance with her after all, but now I know that that won’t be the case and all I want to do is go home and wallow in self pity.

“Actually, I think I’m going to head home, too,” I mumble, looking down as I drag myself to the door to put on my shoes and jacket.

Kara jumps off the couch and hurries toward me. “What? Why?”

I sigh and glance at her, seeing the confusion and hurt on her face.

“I’m pretty tired and I have an early shift tomorrow morning,” I say, pushing my glasses up the bridge of my nose again.

“O-Okay,” Kara stutters and I only hug her briefly before leaving, ignoring the way her eyes burn into the back of my head as I step into the elevator.

Now

I fly over National City, admiring the twinkling lights in the dark of the night as I make my way to a familiar apartment.

It’s cold and a few snowflakes land and melt on my face as I continue flying, but I ignore them and close my eyes briefly, taking a deep breath of fresh air.

The last time I was here, my lung felt like it was on fire but since being cured of my lead allergy in the 31st century, that is no longer an issue.

I descend slowly when I get close to my destination, feeling nervousness rise up in the pit of my stomach.

What if she doesn’t want to see me? What if she moved on? I mean, it’s been seven years. . .

Seven Years Ago

“What are we going to do?” Kara asks desperately, pacing back and forth.

We’re at the DEO, trying to figure out what to do about my mother’s attempt at invading the planet.

Alex looks to be deep in thought and Winn and Lena are talking in hushed voices a few steps away.

“Well, we could always use the device Lillian—“

Alex gets cut off immediately by Kara starting her down. “Absolutely not. We have to think of something else.”

I frown and glance at Clark who’s silently watching the whole scene unfold next to a defeated looking Mon El.

“What device?” I ask and when Alex and Kara go on bickering I ask again, this time louder and a little more aggressive. “What device?!”

No one says anything for a second but then Winn clears his throat and steps forward. “Lena and Lilian came up with a fail safe device that releases trace amounts of lead into the atmosphere when activated.”

I regret asking and immediately know why Kara doesn’t want to use it. It wouldn’t only force my mother and all the other Daxamites to leave, but also Mon El and me.

“I’m going to fight Rhea, and I’m going to win. There’s no other option. We’re not going to use that thing.” Kara states with a huff and it seems as though a decision has been made, but before anyone can leave I step forward with squared shoulders.

“No, you are not fighting our poor excuse of a mother,” I say calmly. “We are using the device. No one else has to get hurt and if it means Mon El and I have to leave as well, then so be it. Right?”

I look at Mon El and despite not seeing eye to eye on most things, he agrees with me and nods solemnly.

Kara whips around and glares at me. “We can’t just—“

“Yes you can,” I interrupt, turning to Alex before Kara can say anything else. “Get the device ready. Mon El and I will get our affairs in order and return to the DEO as soon as possible. You said Kara’s spaceship is still in working order, right? We’ll use it to get off Earth as soon as the lead is released.”

Alex pulls me in for a hug and lets out a shuddering breath but agrees to the plan and orders Winn and Lena to finish making the distributor.

Clark regards me with reverence and bows slightly, leaving shortly after to help in the ongoing fight against the invasion.

Mon El leaves too, shaking Alex’s hand and hugging Kara briefly, leaving me behind with the two sisters.

“I can’t believe you just did that!” Kara seethes, jabbing me in the chest with her finger. “I can fight Rhea. I can win!”

“No!” I argue, shoving her hand away and taking a step back. “You can’t win. My mother fights dirty and you will lose and I won’t let that happen. Not when there’s something I can do about it.”

Alex watched us with an uncomfortable look on her face before deciding she’s seen enough. She wordlessly slips out of the room and makes sure the door is properly shut behind her.

“Well, I’m not going to let you jet off into space with nowhere to go. You will die out there!” Kara spits through gritted teeth, the vein on her forehead pulsing dangerously.

“You don’t know that! But I know that you will get hurt if you fight my mother!” I shout and it makes her flinch because I’ve never raised my voice at her.

“But I can try! Why won’t you just let me do this?”

“Because I love you!”

I slap my hand over my mouth and watch as Kara’s eyes widen.

Well, I guess it’s out there now. . .

I sigh and take off my glasses, folding them before sliding them into my pocket.

“I love you, Kara, and not in a best friend kind of way. I won’t let you get hurt.”

Kara gapes at me and when she doesn’t say anything I clench my jaw and brush past her. “Now if you’ll excuse me I have to go home and get my affairs in order. There’s not much time left.”

Hurt claws at my throat when I leave the stunned superhero behind and I don’t try to stop the oncoming wave of tears.

I knew she didn’t think of me as more than a friend, but her blatant rejection of my feelings just now hurts more than anything I’ve ever felt before.

There’s not much I have to do when I get home because there isn’t much I can take with me, but I do sign the lease of the apartment over to my coworker Conan. He’s been looking for a new place to stay for a couple of months now and the apartment is payed off until the end of the year.

I also sign a resignation letter for work and put it on the kitchen counter next to my spare set of keys.

I’m just about to take some of the picture frames off the wall when I notice a nearing, familiar heartbeat.

I turn around just in time to see Kara coming in through the window with tears streaming down her face.

“What—“

I get cut off by a pair of lips on my own and my eyes widen before slamming shut.

Kara’s desperately pulling me closer by the back of my neck and I have to place my hands on her hips to stop myself from toppling into her.

She kissed me passionately and frantically, and I wince when I taste her salty tears.

I push at her hips, effectively breaking the kiss and stare at her questioningly. “What are you doing, Kara?”

I can’t let her play with my heart. Not now when I’m about to leave.

Another tear makes its way down her cheek and I fight the urge to wipe it away. She looks utterly hopeless and broken and when she whispers, “I love you, too’” the world stops spinning for a moment.

“It’s why I broke up with Mon El in the first place. You get me like no one else does. You listen to what I say and you’re kind, and modest, and your soul is beautiful. I can’t just let you leave. I-I want to go on dates with you. I want to hold your hand and wake up next to you. I want to make you breakfast in bed and kiss you until you’re breathless. Please don’t leave. Please. . .”

I feel my bottom lip tremble and squeeze my eyes shut. That is what I’ve wanted to hear for so long, and it’s so unfair that it’s just a little too late now.

“Kara, I can’t,” I whisper, opening my eyes again to find her blue eyes already on me.

She whimpers and surges forward, capturing my lips in another heated kiss.

I don’t fight her at all, pulling her closer by her waist until there’s virtually no space left between us.

Her lips are soft and warm, even though they’re moving against mine quite aggressively, and I sigh against her mouth when she buries her fingers in my hair and tugs me even closer.

I could get lost in this kiss and if it weren’t for the sudden burning sensation in my lungs I probably would have.

My grip on her waist involuntarily tightens and I pull back to double over and cough violently. It feels like I’m breathing fire and my throat closes, making me wheeze.

They released the lead.

I look up with tears in my eyes to find Kara watching me in horror.

“No, please. Not now,” she says, desperately cupping my cheeks.

She raises a hand to the comms device in her ear and frantically says something to the person on the other end. I’m assuming it’s Alex, but I can’t focus on what’s being said because the next time I cough, I’m coughing up blood.

It runs down the side of my mouth and I’m suddenly too weak to wipe it away, so Kara does it with alarm written all over her face.

She grabs me around the waist and hoists me over her shoulder, dashing out of the window within the blink of an eye.

The position is a little awkward and uncomfortable but I can’t focus on anything other than trying to get enough air in my lungs.

When we touch down on a field in the middle of nowhere, I see Mon El is already there, waiting and coughing next to Kara’s spaceship.

Kara sets me down gently and cups my cheeks again. “I’m sorry. I’m so sorry.”

I shake my head and press a kiss to the inside of one of her wrists, my hands landing on her hips as I sway dangerously on my feet.

I’m too weak to say anything so I just smile weakly, hoping it’s enough to show her that I’m not mad.

“I love you,” she chokes out, pulling out a necklace from beneath her suit. I realize it’s her mother’s and I try to pull away when she presses it into one of my hands. I can’t take something so valuable from her, but she just nods her head adamantly and pleads, “Take this. . . take this, please. It will keep you safe.”

I give in and cough again, holding my breath when she presses her lips against mine one last time.

When she pulls back and pushes me toward the ship, her face is twisted in agony and I know there isn’t anything I wouldn’t do for her not to feel this way.

But there’s nothing I can do, so I get into the ship behind Mon El, clutching her necklace against my chest as the hood materializes above us and we start to ascend.

I mouth I love you, and watch her shrinking figure through the glass. She waves goodbye and I almost break down completely at the sight of her watery smile.

Now

I land on Kara’s balcony, suddenly no longer sure about whether or not I want to do this, but then I see her through the window.

She’s curled up on the couch with a thin blue blanket draped over her. The TV is off and she’s not on her phone either, making me frown and wonder what she’s doing but then I see her wiping her cheek with the back of her hand.

My heart drops at the sight of her looking so dejected and I step forward without thinking and knock on the door.

She freezes for a second before slowly looking up. Her eyes widen when the land on me and she stumbles to her feet, almost tripping over the blanket in her haste to get to the door.

She flings it open, breathing heavily and staring at me with her bloodshot eyes.

“Hey,” I whisper softly and it takes only a couple of seconds for her to throw her arms around my neck and sob into my shoulder.

For the first time in seven years it feels like a huge weight has been lifted off my shoulders and I wrap my arms around her waist and pull her infinitely closer.

The familiar smell of her vanilla shampoo makes my own eyes sting and I choke out a sob.

“You’re here,” she says against my skin, refusing to let go. “I don’t understand. Mon El said you stayed in the future.”

I want to be angry at that revelation, but I just can’t be when I have her in my arms. I press a kiss to her temple and let my lips linger for a moment. “No, I’m here. I’m right here, and I’m not going anywhere ever again.”

Kara’s arms around me tighten and I bend down to pick her up by the back of her legs, carrying her inside.

She wraps her legs around my waist as I close the door behind us, and breathes heavily against my neck.

I move toward the couch and sit down, holding her in my lap as she continues to cling to me.

We stay like that until her sobs die down and she pulls back to look me in the eyes. Her hands cup my cheeks and she traces her thumbs over my cheekbones.

“I love you,” she croaks and I let out a shaky breath, pressing my forehead against hers.

My hands find their way to her hips and I squeeze carefully, whispering, “I love you, too.”

Kara brushes her nose against mine and pecks my lips tentatively. It sends sparks through my body and I respond immediately and move forward for more.

She hums, satisfied, and deepens the kiss by tugging at my bottom lip with her teeth. I gasp in surprise and she uses the opportunity to slip her tongue past my lips and brush it against my own.

It’s a feeling I’ve been craving since she kissed me for the first time and I haven’t stopped thinking about it for the past seven years.

Much too soon for my liking, Kara pulls back. She rests her hands on my chest and traces her index finger along the chain of the necklace she gave me. “Listen, I know it’s been seven years for you, but you have to know that it’s only been seven months for me since you left,” she reveals quietly and I feel my stomach drop when she adds, “So, you know, I get it if you’ve moved on. I mean, Mon El got married, so surely you—“

I cut her off with a soft kiss, letting my lips trail over her cheek and jaw before they land on her neck.

I nip slightly at her sensitive skin, drawing a barely audible moan from her before pulling back completely to meet her eyes.

“I would wait a lifetime if it meant I got to see you again,” I admit, my eyes darting between hers. Then to lighten the mood, I joke, “But I sure hope you haven’t moved on yet because if you have you’re going to be in quite a bit of trouble.”

The smile that lights up her face makes my heart flutter and she quickly shakes her head, denying that she’s seeing anyone.

“I haven’t gotten over you since you left and I honestly don’t know if I ever would have, but that doesn’t matter anymore. You’re here now and I’m not letting you go again.” She whispers that last part and closes the distance between us again to press a kiss to my neck right below my ear.

It makes me shudder and when she smiles against my skin, knowing exactly the effect she has on me, I pinch her side playfully.

She giggles and trails kisses up the side of my face, all the way across my forehead and down my nose until her lips land on mine in a short peck.

“So, what now? What’s going to happen to you and the Legion?” she asks, finding my hand to play with the Legion ring.

I shrug and trace patterns on her lower back with my unoccupied hand. “I will have some words with Mon El and the others about not waking me up, but I can promise you that I’m not going anywhere anytime soon. You’re stuck with me now.”

Kara laughs softly and squeezes my hand, wiggling forward on my lap so she can rest against my chest, her head tucked into the crook of my neck. “Good because I really want to go on dates with you and make you breakfast in bed.”

I smile and kiss the top of her head. “I can’t wait.”

________________________________________________

Jesus, that was a long one, but I needed a break from No Matter What. . .

#supergirl x reader #supergirl cw #kara danvers x reader #kara danvers #kara zor el #x reader #dc universe #dcu #fluff #angst with a happy ending

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heliads · 9 months

Note

inej ghafa x fem!reader?? I feel like things like this are missing on tumblr. kaz and reader are a duo and many consider them a couple but r likes inej and inej likes r. just something where kaz is tired of hearing his best friend talking about his other best friend and decides, in his own way, to play "cupid" so they can finally leave him alone. i really need to see kaz being "cupid's best friend" to both of them and being secretly happy for them (male-female friends exist, nobody remembers??)

male-female friends DO exist, speak on that anon

masterlist

“I think Kaz Brekker is going to kill me.”

This is not an unusual announcement to make in the Barrel. The fact that you’re saying this aloud to an empty room, although odd, is again not something that happens infrequently. Dirtyhands has a reputation for going after anyone who slights him, and he doesn’t accept apologies when he can take something a little more permanent, like a life. Many of his victims are prone to complaining via soliloquy.

The only difference between you and the dozens of Ketterdam residents currently pacing restlessly in fear of Kaz’s wrath is the response such a statement receives. When you make your pronouncement, instead of being greeted by the rustle of wind against the eaves or an ominous feeling in the pit of your stomach, you’re answered by the Wraith herself.

Inej chooses to respond to you instead of retreating back to the Slat to tell Kaz his latest fear campaign has worked, unlike how she’d treat anyone else. Although she wasn’t visible in the room, the second you speak aloud to the seeming emptiness, Inej appears in a flash of dark fabric, crouched on your window ledge, and says, “Don’t be ridiculous.”

You frown at her. “I am not being ridiculous. I think he actually means it this time.”

Inej rolls her eyes, slipping into your room through the window you’re pretty sure was locked from the inside when you were last here. “That’s just his usual friendly demeanor. You’ve known him even longer than I have, Y/N, you can’t possibly think that he means you any harm.”

You grimace. “See, that’s what I thought too. I mean, I met Kaz when we were both kids, I’ve kind of taken our friendship for granted. He’s never so much as stubbed my toe with his cane.”

Inej frowns. “So what changed?”

“It’s happened a few times now,” you admit. “He keeps saying stuff about how something with me has got to change, and if I don’t get around to it, he’ll fix the problem I’ve created. He wasn’t joking, Inej. Whatever I’ve done, he’s not inclined to back down until he gets it sorted out, and you know how Kaz likes to solve his problems.”

Inej winces. “Kaz threatens a lot of people. You can’t take it too much to heart.”

“If you were there, you would know,” you grumble. “He seemed, like, genuinely unhappy. He said that my problem was starting to cast a pall on his reputation. He said I was making it his concern. Usually, he trusts me to sort out my issues, but this– this was different.”

Inej must be able to sense your genuine concern, because her expression softens and she walks forward, placing a soft hand on your shoulder. “I’m sure he doesn’t mean it. Kaz has a lot on his plate. You’re his best friend, Y/N, or so Kaz would say if he would let himself rely on anyone. He doesn’t want you dead.”

You lean into her palm. Just like always, it brings comfort like nothing else. Just like always, you can’t help but chase the warmth of her touch, wishing for more that you may never receive. Not as a friend. Not just this. “You’re his best friend, too. Have you heard anything?”

Inej shakes her head. “Not a word. I can ask, though. Discreetly, of course.”

You smile. “Of course. I trust your secret ways, you know that.”

Inej laughs, and pulls away after a heartbeat, although her eyes follow the place her hand had been for a while longer. “I think I’ll talk to him now. I don’t want you worrying for no reason.”

You let out a grateful sigh. “Thank you, Inej. I mean it.”

She flashes you a grin as she heads back towards the window. “Anytime, Y/N. One more question, though,” she adds, perched halfway in your room and halfway in the open air of the Kerch streets, “How did you know I was here? When you first said you thought Kaz was going to kill you, I mean, how’d you know I would hear it? I didn’t make a sound.”

You lift a shoulder. “I just did.”

Inej frowns crossly. “I need to know so I can improve my skills. What gave it away?”

You grin. “Maybe I didn’t know. Maybe I was just talking to myself.”

Inej scoffs. “You don’t do that.”

She says it with absolute certainty, the product of enough time spent watching from the shadows. “What if I knew when you were watching so I only talked to empty rooms when I knew you weren’t around?” You ask, laughing.

“That still brings us back to the subject of how you always know when I’m there,” Inej points out.

You wave a hand vaguely around. “I don’t know. Honestly. I just feel it, I guess.”

Inej considers this, still crouched on the window ledge, her heels over empty air, her knuckles brushing the cracking paint. You walk closer so you can get a better look at her. The midnight moonlight clings to her hair, her skin; it’s not just you who doesn’t want to let her go, or so it seems. Inej smiles at you, fond, and then she’s gone, disappearing into the empty night air. You surge to the window, but even after sticking your head out and looking around, you can’t spot one flicker of movement. She has simply vanished, as if from the very country itself.

You don’t know that you could respond any better to Inej’s question even if you were ready for it. You never have been able to put a proper name to the sensation you get whenever Inej is nearby. Some could call it infatuation, others could refer to it as a good friendship, but it’s more than that. Inej is the person you look to first in a firefight. Inej is the one you want to see when you have the day off, when you’re finally safe from a dangerous job. It’s her. Always has been.

You started looking for her in earnest the day you realized that the feelings you had for her were more than just platonic. After that, it was easy. Inej is not so pedestrian as to reveal herself in a shower of loose roof tiles, nor a kicked pebble on the street, but she is still human. If you really try, you can hear her in the quiet of perfect stillness. The brush of cloth against cloth. One held breath. Even secrecy makes noise, and you’ve memorized every way to tell it’s her when a shadow lingers nearby.

You don’t get a response until the next morning. You’re idling on the cobblestoned streets, pretending to wait for a friend but really watching the flow of pigeons from the Dime Lions’ club to the Dregs’. You tuck your face into your hand to hide a yawn, and when you look back up, blinking against the crisp wind, Inej is by your side, leaning against the railing of a bridge just a step or two away.

“‘Morning, Inej,” you greet her. ��Sleep well?”

She smiles, closing her eyes so she can tilt her head back and bask in the meager few rays of morning sun that have managed to break through the dense clouds that usually block out Ketterdam sunrises. “You know,” she says absentmindedly, “I really do like that about you. Everyone else just demands information whenever I show up. You say hello.”

You feel the corners of your lips flicker up in a traitorous smile despite your best attempts not to respond to the compliment. “Is it terrible if I ask for information on your conversation with Kaz now, then?”

Inej laughs, shaking her head. “No, that's why I’m here. I think you’re right to be scared, by the way.”

You freeze slightly. “You actually think he’s going to kill me? Inej, I thought you were here to reassure me that everything was fine, not confirm my fears.”

Inej ponders this. “I don’t think he’s actually going to kill you. Just shake you up a little, maybe. I think he was more mischievous than genuinely threatening.”

This doesn’t make you feel any better. “Kaz’s idea of a fun parlor joke is stabbing someone through the hand. I’m going to need a little more evidence of his support of me before I sleep well at night again, thank you very much.”

Inej shrugs. “I think it’s very unreasonable for you to want to feel safe around Kaz Brekker, but everyone has to have their dreams, I suppose. If you want an indication of his favor, though, he’s assigned both of us to a job.”

This does grab your attention. Kaz would only trust you with Inej on a job if he really believed in you. Of course, he could be sending Inej to kill you, but you don’t think she’d do that. Inej would never hurt you. She’s pledged that before, and you made the same promise to her.

We all come to the Barrel for terrible, terrible reasons, and sometimes those reasons make themselves known in long and awful nightmares. Sometimes, when you wake up screaming, you need a friend who will never hurt you. Someone you can trust unconditionally. Sometimes, when one girl wakes up in a haze of bad memories, tears hot on her face, she needs another girl to hold her until the shaking stops. A girl to promise that there will be someone else in the world who will watch after her, who will keep the endless fears at bay. It was you for Inej, and it was Inej for you.

So no, then– if Inej was asked to hurt a hair on your head, she would not only refuse but protect you from other would-be assassins. The only answer is to then trust that this mission of Kaz’s is not designed to hurt either of you.

“Alright,” you say, shrugging your shoulders, “What does he want from us?”

He doesn’t provide you with an awful lot of information, that Dirtyhands. Inej tells you an address, a room, an object, and a time. You both head to your destination. There isn’t much security at all, hardly any passersby, so you’re able to slip in without difficulty. Once inside the designated room, you notice that there’s not much inside, just some simple furniture and a note on the desk.

The note you read with increasing indignance. Inej, who has been scouting out the room’s perimeter, glances over at you with concern when you fling the paper back against the desk. “What is it?”

“This is a trap,” you tell her, furious, “And it’s all Kaz’s doing.”

Inej furrows her brow, then softly pads across the room to pick up the note and read it herself. You can tell from the swiftly changing expression on her face alone what she’s discovering, having practically committed the note to memory yourself.

Dear Y/N and Inej,

I have had enough. Both of you have something that you need to tell each other. I have grown tired of both of you tiptoeing around it, so you won’t be leaving until I hear you say it.

K.B.

Both you and Inej turn in unison to stare at the door, but before either of you can start towards it, you hear the door lock with an audible click. You glance towards the window, but Inej shakes her head. “Locked from the outside. He must have specifically chosen this room and secured it beforehand so none of us can get out. It’s basically a holding cell.”

You yell some choice insults at Dirtyhands in general, but you only hear a soft, low laugh from behind the door, which is incredibly frustrating. You pivot slowly back to Inej, who is swaying slightly back and forth on the balls of her feet.

“Well,” you say as casually as you can, “I guess we have to say something to each other, then. That’s it, though, and then we can leave.”

“Yes,” Inej says evenly. “But what to say?”

You have a terrible feeling building in the pit of your stomach, something telling you that you know exactly what Kaz wants you to say to Inej. It might have something to do with the feelings you keep burying whenever she’s around, but the note said that both of you had to say this thing, and there’s no way that Inej could ever– she wouldn’t feel the same way, no. It must be something else, then.

“Any idea what Kaz would want from us? You’re pretty up to date on his motives,” you mention cautiously.

Inej looks studiously at the ground. “You’ve known him for longer. Maybe you would have a better guess than me.”

The floor receives your stare as well. It’s easier than looking her in the eyes. Easier than trying to make a guess as to whether or not she could possibly love you. Inej takes to prodding the door and window for possible gives, even attempting to see if the ceiling could be pushed aside to make room for escape, but no luck.

You plead weakly with her as she attempts to unscrew the hinges of the door with one of her knives. “Is whatever he wants you to say to me really that bad that you would go to all this trouble to avoid it?”

Inej stills, her hand still on the frame of the door. “You have no idea what he wants me to say.”

“But you do,” you counter, “Don’t you?”

“It’s about you,” she whispers. “It could be terrible.”

“If it’s you,” you tell her, “It could never be terrible.”

Slowly, carefully, Inej turns to look at you. Her eyes are wide and haunted. It occurs to you that maybe you were wrong, maybe she is here to kill you in some sort of way. She could hurt you without ever drawing blood. It would be easy at a time like this, with your entire body thrumming in the wild, desperate hope that the secret Inej must share is something that you have to tell her as well.

Her voice is quiet, barely even a sigh, when she speaks at last. “He knew that I love you.”

It is strange, how even with your mad hopes and prayers, you’re still absolutely consumed by the knowledge that Inej Ghafa loves you when it is finally confirmed aloud. You go completely quiet, mind racing with this incredible knowledge. Inej owes nothing to the world. She defies gravity, she defies nations. She gives nothing if she can take it, but Inej– Inej has given you her heart, free of charge, and it is the most lavish and lovely gift you could ever hope to own.

Whatever reaction Inej was hoping for, she must not find it in your awestruck face, because she abruptly turns to the door and knocks on it loudly. “I told her,” she says crossly, although you swear you detect a little bit of fear undercutting her words, “Now let me out.”

“Not yet,” you plead with her. “He can’t let you go yet. Not until I tell you that I love you, too.”

This time, Inej doesn’t turn slowly. Instead, it’s as if she’s crossed from the door to you in half a second. “Really?”

Inej never doubts herself, nor the information she gathers. Still, the look of pure joy on her face when you repeat your feelings makes her ask again, and again. You have no problem answering her. For once, you are not afraid.

The door clicks open. You glance towards it. “Footsteps on the landing.”

Inej lets out a quiet half-laugh. “Let him go. It would be sporting to give him a head start before we chase him down for pulling a stunt like this.”

You grin in response. “Still, I suppose we shouldn’t be too devastating in our wrath. Who knows how long we would have kept this a secret.”

Inej tilts her head to the side, considering this. “I don’t know. I’m rather good at finding out secrets.”

You arch a brow. “Is that so? How long do you think I’ve loved you, then?”

Inej beams. “Tell me.”

You impulsively reach out a hand, smoothing back a dark lock of hair from her face. “Since the very start.”

This is only the first of many such secrets. Inej has yet to learn just what made you love her, or where you were when you figured it out, or even perhaps how you learned to tell when she’s trying to sneak up on you. Until then, however, you have no doubt that she’ll commit herself to figuring out every intricacy that makes up the girl she loves. You. Until then, you welcome the challenge.

grishaverse tag list: @rogueanschel, @deadreaderssociety, @cameronsails, @mxltifxnd0m, @story-scribbler, @retvenkos, @mayfieldss, @eclliipsed, @gods-fools-heroes, @bl606dy, @auggie2000, @baju69, @crazyhearttragedy, @budugu, @aoi-targaryen

all tags list: @wordsarelife

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mrs-barnes-rogers-writes · 1 month

Text

Pretty As A Picture - Chapter 5

Marvel

Pairings: Steve Rogers x Reader x Bucky Barnes

Summary: When Bucky fell from the train, their soulmate was told he was gone. When Steve Rogers disappeared into the ice, their soulmate was again told one her soulmates were gone. But she didn't believe it. Couldn't believe it. Committed to a mental health institute, she dies of a broken heart. That's at least what the hidden S.H.I.E.LD files say, but if that's the case than why is there a photo of her. A photo that shows her side by side two redhaired Avengers.

Warnings will be per chapter.

For this fic reader will be British, but let your imagination replace if needed.

Chapter Summary: Where are you? What does anyone know? And is Nat unfairly getting the blame?

Chapter Warning: Mentions of mental health, death, loss, electric shock therapy.

Wanda’s eyes went wide and she snapped to look at Nat.

“Have you seen this? Have you seen this before?”

Natasha shook her head.

“You never showed me this Steve. Why wouldn’t you show this to me? To any of us?”

Steve sighed.

“Honestly, it hurt too much. Every time I look at it, every time I look at her, see her face. It feels like my heart is being crushed. To everyone else it’s seventy years, for me, well, it’s not. I look at it and I can smell her perfume, hear her voice, feel her. The chances of her still being here were small. When I was first given a stack of files from Fury, some of you were in them, so were Howard and Peggy, but she wasn’t. When I asked Fury, he didn’t know who I was even talking about, and if anyone could find anything it was you or one of you. This is all I have of her and I couldn’t risk losing that.”

“But you realise that this would have helped us look right? Sure there’s nothing from then but if you’d have shown Nat this, or Clint? It would have been ‘oh hey, I know her’ but instead you’re giving Nat shit. That’s not cool Cap.” Sam replied.

“This is all we have. The evidence shows she’s dead.”

“That’s her Steve.”

“I know Buck, look, I looked for her myself once I’d got a hand on the technology. There was nothing until that file and I gave you all a very clear description and…”

“Now hang on” interrupted Clint “you think hair and eye colour are a good description. Rogers there’s billions of people in the world, and you’re questioning us?”

Steve remained stoic. Bucky however, couldn’t seem to get a reign on his emotions. This was a chance of him getting his girl back, he wasn’t about to hide things.

“He was scared.”

“Buck!”

“Tony’s right. After everything that’s happened, everyone, including you and me, promised no more secrets, no more lies. You were scared Steve, hell, I’m scared too. What if she doesn’t want me after all these years, after all I’ve done.”

“Bucky”

“No Steve, I know you. If you’d have given Nat, Tony, any of them that picture, it would have been ran through every single database in the damn world and I’m pretty sure Friday or Tony could have aged her, taken into account any changes to her appearance, part of you was scared. Scared that if she was around, if she’d survived from back then, that she’d be old, wouldn’t remember you like Peg or that we’d have put her in danger again.”

“Aliens came out the sky Buck.”

“Exactly!”

“I had no reason to not believe Peggy.”

Seeing the conversation becoming heated, Tony decided at this point to step in.

“I’d like to add something if I may. Peggy Carter was my godmother and I knew her as well as you can when someone is your parent’s friend. I never heard them speak about your soulmate or any other female agents, map girls, just each other, you two, Phillips and the Howling Commandos. So all of this, deleting her, behaving like she didn’t exist was to keep her safe. If their truth was to out when Peggy died then it would be neatly put together just like this. If there was anything else, it would be in her file, if there was a clue to anything else it would be here in Peggy’s handwriting. I want to help you Capsicle, and you” nodding at Bucky, “but I need everything and I need Friday to scan that photo, you don’t need to move it, none of us need to touch it but we need it.”

Steve nodded and Bucky uttered a quiet ‘please’.

“You all saw that right, he nodded. I’m taking that as consent. F.R.I.D.A.Y get to work, scan the photos on the table and capture all the info in this file. Romanoff, gonna need her info.” Tony stood as projections came up over the coffee table that sat between the sofas they were all sat on.

“Freelance British Agent 21. Code name White Knight.” Said Nat.

“Why is it locked?”

“You have to high level clearance according to the screen.” Vision pointed out.

Tony gasped in mock horror.

“Well most of us are still on the naughty list. Friday scan Rhodey for access.”

“Access denied Boss.”

“Access denied. What? I’m on the good list!”

“Boss none of you will get access.”

“Unless” Romanoff started “you have an access login given to you by the agent herself.” Nat typed in her phone and projected the result to go against the others.

“Just to loop back around, earlier the contact you were talking about, it’s her?” Asked Tony.

“Yes. Does that matter?” Natasha asked.

“No, but unless you haven’t noticed I’m incredibly nosy.”

Clint snorted with laughed. “Oh you and Y/N are going to get on like a house on fire.”

“Nat don’t let the two of them spend too much time together.” Laura added.

“Why not?” Steve and Pepper replied at the same time.

“World domination springs to mind.” Clint muttered.

“Oh I definitely like her already. Ok, Friday, what do we have?”

“The results are inconclusive boss.”

“What? What does that mean?” Asked Bucky.

“Break it down F.R.I.D.A.Y.” Tony replied.

A fresh batch of projections displayed.

“Examining the facial features, matching the structure and identifying marks, is a 100% match but her DNA and genetics test show she’s not of the age of Captain Rogers and Sergeant Barnes soulmate would be.”

There was sighs around the room. Vision spoke first.

“It’s unlikely that the testing could have been tampered with due to the secure way it’s taken.” Vision pointed out. “Although her last testing is past the usual repeat time.”

“How is she still working if she’s missed testing? It’s a requirement for the health check.” Rhodey added.

“Must of been busy.” Clint said, trying to brush past the comment.

Bucky watched as Nat seemed to find an interesting spot on the meeting room carpet that she couldn’t take her eyes off, Bruce rubbing circles on her knee. Clint was now looking off screen, Laura had disappeared.

“OK, what is it you’re not saying?” He asked.

“Who you talking to Buck?”

“These four. Bruce, Nat, Laura and Clint, you’re not lying but there’s something you aren’t saying.”

F.R.I.D.A.Y interrupted.

“Boss, we’ve got a visitor.”

“Well, don’t let them in.” Tony instructed.

“Sorry boss but it’s Deputy Director Hill and she’s used her pass.”

“Wilson, your booty calls here.”

Sam shook his head.

“Actually Boss, she’s here to see Agents Romanoff and Barton.”

Before anyone had time to comment further, Maria entered the room. Tony acted quickly, minimising the screens that displayed their soulmate, wanting to respect Steve and Bucky’s privacy.

“And what brings you here Hill? That isn’t Sam’s sparkling personality?” Tony asked getting him a swat from Pepper.

The team shook their heads at Tony’s poor joke. Maria didn’t even flinch or react. Her lack of reaction causing everyone to turn to look at her fully.

Her eyes were blood shot, face damp from tears and she looked liked she hadn’t slept in a week. The enhanced in the room could smell the coffee she’d clearly been living off, along with a faint hint of scotch. Steve would guess one glass, thirty minutes ago.

Pepper stood first, nearest placed to Hill. Sam also stood to go towards her.

“Maria what is it? What’s wrong?” Asked Pepper. She held her hand up to stop them going further.

“I’m here in my role as Deputy Director of S.H.I.E.L.D. Agent Romanoff and Agent Barton as….” She paused and swallowed hard.

“This isn’t a mission is it?” Sam asked.

Maria lowered her head and took a breath, when she looked up, she locked eyes with Nat, who was now also standing.

“Shall we do this here or in private?”

Nat had a horrible feeling. A feeling deep down in her stomach that this was the worst kind of news. She had seen Maria in this state twice. Once when Coulson died (or so they thought) and the same when Fury had (or so they thought - again). Clint spoke before Nat had chance to reply.

“Just spit it out Hill, so I know if I need to get on the jet or not.”

Maria glanced at Nat who nodded.

“According to our records and that of MI5 and MI6, you are registered as next of kin and the emergency contacts of Freelance British Agent 21, code name White Knight. As my role of Deputy Director of S.H.I.E.L.D I’m here to inform you that 50 hours ago, during a covert mission for our agency, Agent 21 missed her checkpoint. Due to the evidence found two hours ago, she is now declared as missing in action, presumed dead."

#steve rogers x reader #avengers au #bucky barnes #steve rogers #bucky barnes x reader #avengers #steve x reader x bucky #soulmate au #avengers soulmate au #steve rogers x reader x bucky

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thatgoblin · 9 months

Text

~::~ Summary: After a drunken night with a man name John, Reader finds herself in a position they had never thought they would be in. ~::~ Fem!Reader, 1st POV.

[WARNINGS: Brief pelvic exam, swearing, grief, sibling death, family issues, vague speak of abortion, cursing, unplanned pregnancy, vague-ish descriptions of drunk sex]

::AN-This is just part one of the series, I'll go through the whole pregnancy and maybe after. Enjoy!::

Tequila was always responsible for my mistakes. I should have kept my promise of never having more than one shot, but that quickly went out the window when I bumped into him. He was tall and handsome and smelled of scotch and tobacco. I was pretty sure I complimented his mutton chops and that’s how it started. A few beers and more than a couple of shots later, I was pressed against his door as we kissed like drunk college students during Rush Week. Eventually we made it into his house with giggles and drunk stumbling, at least getting to his bed before the main event.

I was going to have beard burn by the end, but that wasn’t important. What was important was that I was half undressed as the man ate me out like he’d been starving for it. While I don’t remember every single detail, the broad strokes of the night were there, I knew I had had a good time at least. It probably wasn’t the olympic level of sex I thought it was at the time, it was still pretty good. The next morning, he made me coffee, told me his name was John and if I ever wanted to have another fun night again to give him a call.

“So, why haven’t you called him?” My friend Jesse asked as we sat at a table in a cafe, once I'd finished telling him about John. I had called him and asked for some adult talk because holy shit did I need it.

“Because I honestly forgot, but now I really do need to call him buuuut I lost his number,” I said.

“Oh no, did you get the clap?” He asked, shirking away.

“Worse,” I groaned, leaning back in my seat.

“Ew, herpes?” He asked, scrunching his face up.

“Even worse,” I said, putting a hand to my belly. “A lot more noticeable than herpes in the next few months.”

“Oh. . . Oh shit,” he said, raising his brows. “I mean, are you sure it’s his?”

“I’ve only slept with one person in the last four months thanks to my ex, so yeah, I’m sure it’s John’s,” I grumbled. I knew that would be everyone's question, probably even John's, but it still didn't feel great to hear.

“Sorry, just checking,” he said, holding up his hands. “So what are you going to do?”

“I don’t know. It’s. . . It’s still early and it’s not like he HAS to know as I’m not sure I want to keep it,” I said, poking my sponge cake with a fork. “I don’t even want kids. I never planned on it, not even with Paul and he was my longest relationship.”

“Oh Paul,” Jesse said wistfully. “It’s all his fault that this happened. If he hadn’t cheated on you so many times, then you wouldn’t have been looking for a rebound.”

“Well the tequila didn’t help either,” I snorted. “Doesn’t make a difference. I’ve still got to make a decision and it’s getting close to the deadline for the permanent one.”

“Have you gone to a doctor yet?” Jesse asked.

“Yeah, right after I took the pee test at home. I wanted to make sure so I didn’t panic over nothing,” I said. “They said I’m about 7 weeks along. I didn’t want to do any tests other than the blood lab, and since I could give them the date of my last encounter, they were able to figure it out from there.”

“Man, that’s wild. Have you told anyone else? Your family?”

“Absolutely the fuck not,” I choked out as I sat up. “They will never know if I can help it. No matter the outcome, they are not in my life for a reason.”

“Because they’re fucking psychotic?”

“Because they’re fucking psychotic. Damn right,” I huffed. It had been so long since I’d had any contact with my family. My parents were still back in Inverness for all I knew and my older brother was somewhere with the military. Last I had heard was that he’d made it to Sergeant in SAS and that was because I had run into an old friend from school. It had felt so sad to find out through gossip essentially. Someone I had been so close to growing up was now a complete stranger.

“So, if you keep it, can I be the Daddy?” Jesse asked with a grin.

“Jesse, you can barely keep your rabbit alive, I’m not letting you parent my fake plants let alone anything that comes out of me,” I groaned, shifting to sit up.

“Hey, Sassafras is doing amazing and he’s even getting a brother soon. Don’t be bad mouthing my babies,” Jesse pouted.

“Sorry, sorry,” I said, rubbing my face. “I shouldn’t be taking the stress out on you. That’s not fair and I’m sorry.”

“Those hormones are messing you up, BAD,” he said.

“Yeah, they are. I don’t get sick at least, but the mood swings are giving even ME whiplash." I was silent for a moment, contemplating the possibility of telling John. The good, the bad, and the more than likely to happen heart break if I made an attempt to have something outside of our one night stand.

Paul had done a number on me. We’d been together since secondary school on and off, but the last four years we had become so close and in tune with each other. We could tell when the other needed something without saying anything and were genuinely happy where we were. I had been at least. It turns out he’d been fucking some hen from his work the entire time and had gotten her pregnant. When that happened, a switch had flipped and I didn’t know the man anymore. He moved out when I had gone to work one day, leaving me in a lurch with rent and a place that I had so many happy memories with him in.

"Maybe it’s better if I just don’t tell him,” I said softly, shaking my head. “I mean, we could be really bad together. All I know is that he’s in the military and is never around. If I wanna raise anything, I want my partner to be there with me and I already hate being alone. I’d probably lose my mind if it was just me and it on our own. Besides, he probably doesn’t want something like this. Otherwise he’d have it by now.” The man was good looking, funny, and with a military career, he could have married someone and had kids with them by now.

“True, but what if you guys work really well together?”

I went quiet, trying not to let a fantasy of me and John form. Paul proved that it doesn’t matter how long you were with someone or how close you got, they will still break your heart when you least expect it and act like it was nothing.

“Don’t let him ruin your future, Boo,” Jesse said, reaching over to take my hand. “He’s taken enough from you. There’s no reason to let him have more.”

“I know,” I said softly, squeezing his hand. “I just wish I knew what to do. If someone could tell me for sure if me and John would work out or not, that would be amazing.”

“Well, I’m sorry that I left my crystal ball at home,” he said, letting go. “But maybe give it a try. At least you can say you gave it a go.”

“Yeah, but I have to find the guy first and I don’t remember his number or where he lives,” I said.

“Well, how about putting that detective brain of yours to work? You watch all those crime dramas, why not use it in real life?” He asked.

“Because this is real life and not DCI Banks,” I said, giving him a pointed look.

“Just retrace your steps. Do you remember the bar you met him at? Maybe he’s a regular,” Jesse said, rolling his eyes.

“True. That’s actually a really good idea,” I said, tapping my chin in thought. “I mostly remember what he looks like too. Well more than mostly, I could probably pick him out in a lineup. He was really good looking.”

“Oh yeah, that’s definitely going to help you find him. Just ask the bartender for the really good looking guy,” Jesse snickered.

“Shush. Well, it seems that the, uh, Shit, what do I call it?” I asked.

“Are you asking me what to call the fetus inside you?” Jesse asked, raising his brows.

“Yeah.”

“Just call it Bug. You know? Or even Bean. It’s like, what, the size of a grape?”

“Little smaller. I think the internet said it was the size of a blueberry.”

“That would be cute, but it also sounds like a safeword,” Jesse snickered.

“English people do really like beans,” I said. “Let’s go with Bean.”

“You’re English too!” Jesse cackled.

“No I’m not! I’m Scottish! There’s a difference!” I cried, throwing a napkin at his face that he easily caught. “Fucking American with your Mountain Man accent telling me I’m English. My Last name is MacTavish, that’s not fucking English.”

“I’m Appalachin, Darlin’. I’m not just any Mountain Man,” Jesse grinned.

“I’ll be sending you back by punting you over the ocean if you don’t knock it the fuck off,” I hissed.

“The mood swings are going to be killer with you,” Jesse snickered.

“Don’t,” I sighed. “Just don’t. But it seems I'm keeping the Bean after all."

“Good luck. I mean it. Being a single parent ain’t easy, but you’re not on your own with this. Even without John, okay?” He said, reaching over to squeeze my hand again.

A few days after my lunch with Jesse, I was at the bar that I had originally found John at. It was packed for a Thursday night and the thick smell of alcohol was making me nauseous. Getting to the bar, I flagged down the bartender in hopes they would know him.

“What can I get ya, Love?” He asked, leaning in so he could hear me.

“I’m actually looking for someone,” I said, climbing up to kneel in the seat so I could lean over the bar. “I don’t know if he’s a regular or not, but I figured I’d try.”

“Sure, what’s his name?”

“John. I don’t have a last name, but he’s tall and built, has dark sandy hair with a mutton chops beard. I think he’s in the military,” I said.

“Oh yeah! John Price! He and his men are regulars,” the bartender nodded. “Just saw him a few days ago actually. What do you want him for?”

“Well, I’ve got something for him that he left when I last saw him and I only got his first name and haven’t been able to find him,” I said. “You wouldn’t happen to know where I could find him other than here, could you?”

“Sorry, I only know him from here. Maybe if you come back tomorrow he might be here. He usually shows up a bit earlier than this,” the man said with a shrug. I nodded and thanked him, giving him a few quid for the help. I decided that I could hang around and see if he still shows up that night while I dug around to see what I could find on social media.

Getting a Shirly Temple, I grabbed a corner seat and spent about an hour trying to find him online, but the man was a ghost. Nothing. No Facebook, Twitter, MySpace, not even a LinkedIn. What was I supposed to do? Give my number to the bartender and hope he remembered to give it to John? That is if he would. He’d probably just toss it. There was no way I was leaving my number on a board in hopes he’d see it. That was how I would end up on a true crime Youtube channel.

About to call it a night and escape the bar that was building a headache in the base of my skull, I shot a text to Jesse to let him know I tried the bar and at least got a last name. As I turned to put my phone in my purse, the chair opposite of me was pulled out. Looking up, I couldn’t believe my dumb luck.

“Heard you were looking for me,” John said with a chuckle. His deep, gravelly voice was just like I remembered it as he was grunting in my ear while he-

“Yes, I am,” I said with a nervous laugh. “I, uh, know that it’s been a while since we last saw one another and I planned to call you, but I lost your number.”

“You know you don’t have to make up a story if you want to have a pint with me,” he said, a soft smile peeked from under his whiskers.

“Oh, no, I really lost your number,” I said, straightening up in my chair. “I also have the memory of a goldfish, so when I realized I had lost it, it was too late. But you’re here now.”

“That I am,” he said, nodding with a hum. Almost getting completely lost in his shining blue eyes, I quickly gave him my full name.

It was very clear as to why I had started to flirt with him in the first place. The way he looked at me, making me feel like he knew exactly what he wanted and it was me.

“It’s nice to get a full name, after almost two months,” he said. “It’s lovely to meet you, I’m John Price.” He held out his hand for me to shake and damn it, I was melting into his touch. His hand was warm and rough, but firm. “So, were you seeking me out for an introduction or maybe I could buy you a drink?”

“Uh, I was actually looking for you because. . . Well. . .” It felt like the words were getting stuck in my throat, trying to choke me to make me leave and pretend nothing happened.

“You want another go where we’re a bit more sober and able to have more fun?” John offered with a wink as he leaned forward to sip his beer he’d brought over with him.

“I’m pregnant,” I blurted out. He furrowed his brow, staring at me.

“Congratulations?” He asked slowly.

“That’s why I was looking for you,” I said with a heavy sigh. “I’m pregnant and about 7 weeks along. If you do the math. . .”

“I see,” he said, nodding. Sitting back in his chair, he fiddled with a coaster, staying quiet for a moment. I didn’t want to push it or scare him, so I was patient. “And you’re sure it’s mine?”

I had prepared myself for that question, made sure it wouldn’t bother me by asking myself that same thing over and over, but hearing his tone and seeing that flash of doubt on his face made me want to hide in shame. I didn’t shame people for how many people they had slept with and while I didn’t have sex with strangers, it felt like suddenly I was this ‘loose’ person that was trying to get every single dick they could and use the system to get free stuff. The next nine months were going to be hell on my body, but sure, I only did it for free stuff and to control a man I had met ONCE.

“You’re the only person I’ve slept with in the last four months. So, yeah. I’m very sure,” I said, feeling my chest start to tighten. Anxiety began to twist my stomach like I was wringing my hands under the table. “I don’t want anything,” I added, nearly choking on my own spit. “I mean, I don’t want you to feel like you owe me or the Bean anything. I just wanted you to know, so if you did want to participate at all, you could. If you don’t want to, that’s fine. Again, I just thought that you had a right to know.”

“That did go through my mind,” John said with hesitation. “I know you said you don’t want anything, but it wouldn’t feel right if I didn’t help out at all. A support check at least.”

“That. . . That’s up to you. I’m not going to take you to court over it. I figured if you ever want a relationship with the Bean, then we can work something out. I’ll keep you updated on anything you want to know or I can just leave you alone,” I said. That part was hard. I didn’t want to be a single mum and I didn’t want to be alone, but I also didn’t know John. How many relationships went sour because two people had a kid and chose to stay together instead of separate because they thought it would be better for the kid? Too many.

“I think I’d like to know,” he said, looking up from the coaster to me. “I’d like to be involved as much as I can be.”

“Okay,” I said, twisting my napkin more. “Okay, we can do that. Um, I have a doctor’s appointment next week. If you want, you can come. It’s just a general check up.”

“Yeah, I can do that. Just let me know the time and place. Do you want to meet there or I can pick you up?” He offered, that look coming back again. John knew what he wanted, but I couldn’t tell if it was me or the Bean. That wasn’t something I thought I would need to worry about. Would he think I wasn’t fit to be a parent by myself? Did he have family that could raise the Bean and think it would be better if they did? The prospect of being betrayed to have the Bean taken away was suddenly very real and terrifying.

“We can meet there. Here’s my number, so you can keep it and I can’t lose it again,” I said, sliding my phone over to show him my number. He added my number to his phone before adding his to mine then sliding it back to me. “I’ll go ahead and send you the details. Um, okay, I just realized how, well, how silly this sounds, especially after me giving you my information, but I just thought of it. You aren’t a crazed serial killer, are you?”

John let out a bark of a laugh, his shoulders shaking as he chuckled. “No, no. Nothing like that. I’m just a captain in SAS.”

“That’s what it was,” I groaned. “I knew it was military, but I couldn’t remember exactly what it was.”

“To be fair, I didn’t exactly tell you,” he said, leaning forward again, much more relaxed by my ice breaker question. “So what is it that you do?”

“I’m a restaurant manager for an Italian place on the south side of town. Ciao Bella.”

“I’ve heard of the place. Always good things. I haven’t eaten there before, but now I might,” John said.

“It’s a pretty good place. I recommend it and not just because I work there.”

The longer we talked, the more comfortable I felt with him. I still wasn't sure if he wanted me or the Bean, but it was starting to look like both of us. When I was ready to go home, he offered to drive me home and when I declined, not for lack of him trying, he walked me out to hail me a taxi. There was a bit of awkwardness at the good night part. Did we kiss? Did we high five or wave? In the end, I gave him a one armed side hug that he happily returned.

Once I was in the taxi and down the street, my phone buzzed with a message.

'I forgot to ask, but why do you call the baby The Bean?' I snorted and shook my head.

'Because you English really like beans and that's the size of it right now.'

'You're English too.'

'No, I'm Scottish! There's a difference!'

'You’re right. Out of curiosity, are you related to or know a Johnny MacTavish?'

Fuck.

'Is he from Inverness, Scotland?'

'Yes. You know him?'

I had screwed up. I had seriously screwed up. I couldn't bring myself to answer him, not even when he called once I got home. It had been almost a decade and I still couldn't bear to think of him. He was supposed to be the good one. He was supposed to help me and comfort me and instead he abandoned me. If John knew him then I couldn't be around John. I couldn’t put myself or the Bean through what I had gone through the last time I’d seen him.

Once inside my flat and my door locked, I turned off my phone so I didn't have to listen to it buzz with calls and messages. How could I explain to him even the very basics to begin with? I couldn't without giving away every dirty, dark detail of why I cut him out of my life to begin with.

Laying in bed as I felt sick, I couldn't help but think that I made a mistake. I never should have looked for John and I never should have told him. It could have been dealt with quietly and quickly and I wouldn't be so attached to it. Wrapping my arms around my belly, I started to cry. Why did I try and do the ‘right thing’ for myself? It never worked out, it wouldn’t be any different from Paul. He’d find out and he’d either leave or take the Bean or worse, would make me believe he was a good person till I truly needed him and it turned out to be a lie the whole time.

When I had ghosted John, I don’t know why I thought he’d just disappear. Why would he, after finding out I’m pregnant with his Bean, not do anything to track me down and make sure I wasn’t dead in the gutter or smuggled to another counter? While I had no information to go off of to find him other than a bar, he had plenty for me. Between my phone number, my place of work, all the information on my social media, and the doctor’s appointment that I had given the details to, I was somehow surprised to find him waiting for me at the front of the clinic the day of my appointment. It had been almost a full week since I’d seen him and had been ignoring his calls and texts in hopes he’d either talk to Johnny and find out why it was better that way or would just give up.

“Ah, shit,” I groaned under my breath, seeing him sitting on a bench as I walked down the street from my bus stop. John had already spotted me before I could try and go another way in, giving a wave as he stood up to meet me.

“Do you want to talk about why you pulled a Houdini on me before or after the appointment?” He asked, meeting me halfway.

“Afterwards. I haven’t eaten today and I don’t have the energy to explain everything in great detail like you’ll want it to be,” I said with a sigh.

“Why haven’t you eaten?” John asked, frowning a bit.

“I woke up late after pulling a double shift. Turns out when you’re pregnant you get tired much more easily and if you stop moving, you do fall asleep no matter where you are,” I said, rubbing my tired eyes. There were dark circles under my eyes for sure and I probably looked like I had rolled out of bed after a week of doing nothing. My clothes were wrinkled, my trainers dirty, and my hair unwashed for the last week. John meanwhile looked put together and had done everything on his to-do list for the next month in six hours.

“Alright, yeah. We’ll go for food after this and we can talk,” he said with a nod. Turning, he opened the door for me, letting me lead the way to the receptionist. After checking in, we found a pair of seats together in the corner. As I looked around, I felt more shame creeping up. It was a government run clinic, which meant people who weren’t well off were there and that meant stereotypes. The mum with two kids screaming while pregnant with a third, one who didn’t look older than 15 with her own mother, and one who looked like she had nicotine patches on her arms as she bounced her leg and scowled at the room. It was what I could afford as I didn’t have private insurance and John didn’t seem the type to have been in a place like that before. At least in the UK.

I began to worry if he was silently judging me, reconsidering everything about me because we were there and not some posh doctor’s office with pleasant music playing softly while pretty people with white, toothy smiles were all around.

“Ms. MacTavish,” a nurse said from the door to the exam rooms. Standing up, John and I followed. She took my vitals and weighed me before taking us to a small room.

“Do you want me to hold anything?” He asked softly, minding how the room made our regular voices sound like we were shouting.

“Oh, yes, thanks,” I said, handing my purse and jacket. I hopped onto the exam table as he held my things, moving his chair closer to the head of the table instead of at my feet. At least he was being polite. We waited a bit in silence, but it was actually comfortable. It was odd, given most people would be talking about anything and everything to avoid the fact that I was about to have to take my pants off and have someone else stick their fingers inside my fanny.

The doctor came in after a bit, knocking then coming in without an answer from me. She immediately went to wash her hands before looking over my chart, not looking at me yet. “Okay, Ms. McTavis, you are here for a regular pregnancy check up, and is this the father of the child?” She asked, misspeaking my name. The woman looked like she was either going to ask for a manager or call the police on someone for being too loud two houses down.

“Yes, this is John,” I said, not even bothering to correct her. I probably wouldn’t see her next time, so it didn’t matter.

“And how long have you two been sexually active together?” She asked, continuing to read over my chart and make notes.

“Um, just once,” I said, earning a raised brow from her. “We had a one night stand. What does that have to do with the visit?”

“Ah, are you sure he’s the father?” She asked, looking down at my chart to write a few things and ignoring my question.

“Yep, the only person I’ve slept with in four months.” This was a nightmare. It was one thing to go through this with just myself, but having John there to see and hear the questions was humiliating. If we had been married or a committed couple, it would be different, but because we weren’t, I was the irresponsible one.

“All it takes is just once with no condom or pill and here you are. Alright, go ahead and take your trousers and pants off and we’ll do a quick pelvic exam.” Instead of leaving the room, she drew a curtain around me after handing me a gown. I just tried to keep any signs of embarrassment to a minimum so we could get through this.

“I can hold those for you, Love,” John said softly, once I was changed. He was standing up with his eyes down, but holding out his hand for me to give him my clothes.

“Thanks,” I said in a near whisper, handing him my things before getting back on the table to put my feet in the stirrups. Letting out a breath, the curtain was drawn back and the doctor scooted in on her rolly stool with gloves on and ready to go. “Lube’s a bit cold,” she said, smearing it a bit before pushing in a finger then two. It felt so uncomfortable and hurt slightly, making me even more embarrassed that John was there to see it. She had to adjust my legs, spreading them wider and higher, making it harder on my body as she did the exam.

This was completely different from him having his head buried between my legs or him seeing me completely naked on top of him. Part of me began to wonder if I was just stupid for offering to have him at appointments with this happening. I had probably scared him off for good. Parents who wanted kids, who were trying for them, this wouldn’t bother them. We had an accident and this was forcing us to be much more intimate in an alien way.

“I need you to stay there for a moment, I forgot to grab something from the supplies,” the doctor said, pulling the curtain so I wouldn’t flash anyone when the door opened. When it closed, I tried to keep my sigh quiet, but again, those fucking rooms made a whisper sound like borderline yelling. The quiet fell over us once more, but this time, John stood up to move his chair closer. Sitting back down, he was right next to the table. He reached up and took my hand in a loose hold, giving it a quick kiss as we waited. If I wasn’t so anxious or ready to throw up, I would have cried at his sweetness.

Once the doctor came back, she finished her exam and said everything looked good and she’d see me in four weeks. After finishing her job, she closed the door behind her after letting me know to take my time if I needed to and just leave the door open when I left. John stood up, letting go of my hand, to grab some paper towels for me. I quietly thanked him as I cleaned up myself before taking my clothes back to dress. When I was done, he took my hand in his and walked me out of there.

Outside, I felt better, but only so much. The close interior of the clinic and the chemical smell from disinfectants were not longer trying to smother me along with my embarrassment at least. Now I had to explain everything to John and expect him to be okay with it after making him sit through that?

“If you’d like, I could get you on my health plan and you could go see a different doctor,” he offered as we kept walking. I wasn’t really paying attention to the direction as my hunger was starting to overshadow everything else, my hands getting a bit shaky had him stopping us. He looked over my face as he held both my hands, silently taking stock of where I was at. “Let’s get some food in you before we talk about anything else, yeah?”

“Please,” I said, nearly bursting into tears. Goddamn hormones. Putting his arm around me, he led us to his car to drive us to the nearest restaurant.

After we were inside and food was ordered, delivered, then devoured, that was when he started to talk again.

“I meant it earlier,” John said, using a napkin to wipe his face clean of crumbs. “I can put you on my health plan and you’ll be able to go to a different place.”

“I appreciate it, but this is fine,” I said, tearing up pieces of bread to sop up any juices left from my meal. “It would be a mess to change providers and this is the easiest place to get to from my place by bus.”

“You know you can ask me to take you to your appointments. It’s not a problem,” he said, looking over my plate that I practically licked clean. “Want anything else to eat? My treat.”

“I feel like a broken record a bit, but it’s fine. I’m good,” I said, fibbing a bit. Ordering a small portion didn’t exactly work in my favor, but I didn’t feel comfortable relying on him much more than I already had allowed myself to. “As for my appointments, you won’t be able to take me all the time and when I hit 28 weeks I go every other week, then at 36 weeks it’s once a week. It’s a lot to ask of you and I can do it on my own. I promise, I’m an adult.”

“Even adults need help from time to time, besides, I said I wanted to be involved,” he said. When the waitress came around to ask if we wanted anything else, John turned to look at me and waited patiently. The waitress seemed to understand what he was waiting for as she turned to look at me with a sweet smile.

“I’ll have a burger and fries. Adult portions, well done,” I said after a few seconds of panic deliberating. The man seemed unable to stop himself from trying to take care of me as much as possible. That should have been a sign to me that he was a good person and would do anything for me and the Bean. He probably did that to a lot of people around him as well. The waitress took my order with a nod then was off.

“Now, about the health plan,” John said, picking up his mug of coffee. I could see the slight smile he was hiding behind it and wanted to slap it out of his hands. Ugh. He was going to drive me insane with being so nice and helpful.

“As long as I don’t have to marry you or move in with you to be on it,” I said with resignation.

“Done,” he said. “I’ll get you the paperwork for you to fill out and that’ll be that.”

“Sounds good,” I said.

A quiet fell over us as he stared at me and I refused to look at him. I knew what he wanted and until he asked, and even then, I wasn’t going to offer it up.

“So,” he said, setting his mug down to lean against the table on his elbows.

“So,” I said, picking up my fork to swing a bit in my fingers as I leaned back in my chair.

“You’re Johnny MacTavish’s little sister?”

“Depends on who you ask,” I said with a shrug.

“If I were asking you?”

“Then I would say that I don’t have any siblings or immediate family.”

“And if I asked him?” I looked at his words. John was watching me, every movement, every small twitch or tell. The man was waiting for me to lie or to tell him the truth.

“Then he’d tell you he had two younger sisters. One is deceased and the other is one that he and his parents don’t talk to or see,” I said, shifting in my chair. “You didn’t tell him, did you? About me or us or the Bean?”

“No,” John said, shaking his head. “I thought you two might be estranged partners at first, but I did my own digging.”

“Yeah? What’d you find out?” I pulled my legs up in the chair to sit criss cross, unable to keep his gaze for too long.

“I found out you went to secondary school as Johnny was starting the military and your sister was working at a local shop. Once you graduated, you went a bit wild, I would say. Partying and such. Then your sister died in a drunk driving accident and you disappeared for a bit,” he said. “But I’m still not getting the answer as to why you ran when I mentioned Johnny.”

“That is because he and I don’t speak. I haven’t spoken to him or my parents in almost a decade. Basically since our sister died,” I said, keeping my gaze on the paper straw cover that I was folding. John was quiet, letting me get the words out on my own time. “I had been at a party that night and had been drinking. So, I called Saoirse to come pick me up. All my friends were pretty pissed at the time, so I thought I was doing the right thing, you know? Not leaving with the drunk people and getting a sober driver.” I swallowed hard, feeling my chest tighten as I tried not to let the images of that not conjure up in my head. I didn’t even get to know what happened fully till my cousin Mike told me and that was nearly two days later.

He and my other cousin Seamus were the only family I still considered to be family. They were military like Johnny, special forces in SAS, but they were older. Mike was nearly 60 and Seamus was pushing mid 40s, but they had always been kind to me and never treated me differently. Especially Mike. He’d send presents for Christmas and my birthday, things I actually wanted while my parents would give me the bland socks or clothes that I hated. He still did when he could. All he had were his brother Paulie left as his parents were gone with no spouse or kids of his own. Mike got me through the grieving, but he never spoke up like Saoirse did.

“She was on her way there when one of the guys that was at the party left, and he hit my sister when he was trying to race someone else that was drunk. When my parents found out where I had been and why she had been there, they blamed me for her death. Johnny wasn’t around much because he was off doing military stuff, so the only story he got was from them. I never got to explain to him what happened or find out what our parents told him. He wouldn’t look at me even at the funeral when the family was gathered together. I ended up drunk halfway through and left. No one followed me aside from my cousin Mike. He let me stay with him till I could get my own place. My parents didn’t try to find me or talk to me, neither did Johnny.”

“I’m so sorry, Love,” he said softly, reaching over to take my hand that was starting to pick at my cuticles. “That must have been. . . That’s so hard.”

“Yeah,” I said with a snort, trying not to focus on it too much and have a melt down before I got my food. “Johnny never reached out to see if what they said was true, just trusted them despite the bullshit they always pulled with me. I have no clue what I did to them, but my parents always treated me differently. It wasn’t outright abuse, but I know they never did like me, let alone love me. Saoirse always stood up for me, whenever they gave me a hard time, she’d call them out on it. Johnny didn’t get to see much of it because he was always busy and he always believed our parents. They had never done anything wrong to him, so how could they be so bad?”

“Have you tried reaching out to him? Try explaining anything to him?” John asked, rubbing my palm.

“I did once, but he acted like I was. . . Like I was some druggie asking for help to get their next fix. It was maybe six years ago. I saw him in passing in Glasgow. He said I needed to get help and stop asking for money, before I even said anything. Johnny told me that I was an adult and couldn’t live off of mum and dad forever. Apparently our parents had been telling him that I was constantly asking for money for beer or drugs or whatever and he didn’t question it. We used to be really close, you know? Right before he turned 16 and tried to join the military, we’d always be around one another. Him and me and Saoirse. I don’t know what changed, but once he was gone, he wasn’t my brother anymore. Just a stranger who didn’t have time or want for me.”

Just as it was getting too much to talk about, my food arrived. While I didn’t have that much of an appetite after explaining myself, even leaving a lot out, I still needed to eat. John didn’t ask any more questions as I ate, though I’m sure he had some. Finished with my food in just a few minutes, I let my meal settle before asking my own question.

“So, how do you know Johnny?” I asked, knowing it was something that we would have to work with instead of around.

“He and I are on the same deployment team, specialized task force if you will,” John said. “We work together and see each other almost daily when we’re not deployed.”

“So this is something that he will find out about,” I said, nodding as anxiety made my stomach roll.

“I know you two aren’t on good terms, but I can’t hide this from him. I also didn’t know how. . . Sensitive it was,” he said. “I can tell him myself or we can tell him together, but he has to know.”

“Which means my parents will find out as well,” I said, feeling like I was losing any sense of control I had over the situation. It was quickly going into a very upsetting and unwelcome direction.

“Possibly,” John said. “I know that this is asking a lot from you, from carrying the baby to having to speak with family you cut out of your life, but I want to make this work. I want to be there for our child and you.”

“You’re right this is asking a lot,” I said, nodding as I stood up. “I can’t do this John. I’m not even sorry, but I am being asked to do so much, no I’m being told to do so much. I know you want to be in Bean’s life, but I am sacrificing everything and you get to just waltz in like the hero with the medical plan and the money and the car to take me places. I’m not-I can’t. No, it’s not happening,” I said, walking out. John cursed before following me out.

“Love, just wait,” he said, grabbing my arm.

“No! You wait!” I snarled as I turned on him, yanking my arm away. “I am expected to give up everything and sacrifice my sense of safety and self worth for you! Not Bean, but you! Because you work with my brother who I haven’t seen in years and because you want me to go to the nice medical practice and you want me to do this and that and I don’t want to! I don’t have to! So just leave me alone and forget I ever found you again. I’ve been on my own long enough that I can take care of myself and Bean without you.”

“You don’t have to though,” John said. He was frustrated, scrubbing his face as he looked around to see people staring at us because of my outburst. “Just-”

“No, no justs!” I cried. “I want to be left alone. Don’t call me, don’t follow me, don’t message me, nothing!”

He looked so heart broken, so desperate to help, but didn’t know how to handle being denied. Part of me wanted to just break down into tears and hug him, plead for him to never leave me, but I knew. . . I fucking knew that this was a pipe dream. Anything he and I could ever be or have was a fantasy. As soon as Johnny or my parents found out, they’d poison John against me. Help him take the Bean if they wanted to.

I stared hard at him for a few moments before turning to walk away. I was miles from my place, but I didn’t care. The walk would help me get rid of these feelings and wants and pointless dreams. It should have been clear from the start that I wasn’t going to have a house with a yard and a bright red door with a shining white archway. No 2.5 kids with someone I loved and an old dog or cat we found while dating. I saw who I was at the clinic. The mum with two kids screaming, a third on the way while trying to handle it all on their own. That was my future.

Days passed and John kept his distance. I didn’t attempt to contact him and he did the same. After a while it felt normal again aside from getting sick at the slightest strong smell. I hadn’t escaped the dreaded ‘morning’ sickness after all. Work was hard, but I got through it, even if it meant leaving when the food began to be cooked and coming in early. Hitting 10 weeks felt like it took forever. The mood swings were still awful and my breasts were tender and swollen. I was getting a more noticeable bump too. It was easy to hide, but standing in front of a mirror in my underwear showed that there was indeed a Bean growing inside me.

The worst part was my blood pressure. Somehow I had very low blood pressure despite the stress I was under. Low enough that if I was still for too long I would start to pass out. A quick clinic visit had me upping my salt intake and water. It wasn’t bad if I was at home, I could just sit in the floor till the feeling passed. I hadn’t experienced it outside of the house, yet.

Mid week 11, I finally went to the store instead of eating out. I wasn’t feeling great, but I was doing what I could. Pushing the trolly up the bread aisle, I was looking for the one type of bread I knew I could stomach when fate decided that it was time for things to come to a head.

As I was reaching for the bread, standing as tall as I could on my tippy toes, a hand reached up and grabbed it.

“Here you go,” a familiar voice said. I turned to look at the person with wide eyes, both of us having a moment of disbelief.

“Hey, Soap, don’t forget the-”

Son of a fucking bitch.

“Oh,” John said as he saw me and Johnny staring at one another. “Everything alright?”

“Yeah,” Johnny said, never taking his eyes off me. “Just helping this nice lady get some bread.”

I never had a hair trigger to cry before, but the moment he said that instead of saying he knew me, it broke me. Bursting into tears, I couldn’t even leave. I was sobbing so hard.

“Soap,” John said with a growl. I tried to brush his hands away, to try and get some space, but John wasn’t letting me leave.

“Do you know her, Cap?” Johnny asked, sounding anything but pleased.

“Easy, Love,” John said softly, pulling me close and stroking my hair. It shouldn’t have made me melt into him so easily, I should have tried harder to leave, but I was just so damn tired.

“Price?” Johnny said, getting gruff.

“I know who she is, Soap,” John said. “I know who you are to her. We can do this here or we can do this in private, Sergeant.” His tone left no argument or even a choice. The three of us left the store empty handed. John had me tucked under his arm the whole time we walked to a nearby house. It was just a few blocks from mine and when Johnny pulled out his keys to open the front door, I began to sob all over again. He had been so close this whole time and we never once ran into each other. It meant we either had very bad luck or he knew where I was the whole time and never said a thing.

John offered soft words of comfort and reassurance as he guided me to a sofa. Sitting me down, he looked off to the side and told someone to bring him a cool wash cloth and to make tea.

“I’m not fucking English, I don’t drink tea,” I croaked between sniffling sobs.

“Yeah, but I am and so is the Bean,” John said, giving me a smile that made his cheeks round and his eyes crease. It was the same one he’d given me that first night we met.

He had been sitting at the bar, nursing a scotch when I came up wild and loud, climbing onto a stool so I could kneel on it to be able to lean onto the bar so the bartender could hear my order. I glanced at him and flashed a smile and a wave. ‘Hi!’ I said, giving him my name. ‘Do you like tequila?’

‘Hi, I’m John and I do like tequila.’

‘It’s grand to meet you, John! Have a shot with me!’

“Who’s Bean?” A voice asked, bringing us out of our small daze. Looking up, there stood a man with dark eyes and a curious look.

“Gaz,” John said, clearing his throat. “Not the time.” The man nodded, handing him the wash cloth that he turned to wipe my face. Letting him clean me up, I was able to calm down and at least stop crying. The headache that came after didn’t help at all. I couldn’t take any medication for it either, so I only had a bag of frozen peas that Gaz had grabbed at John’s request to help soothe the pounding behind my eyes.

“Seems we’ve calmed down enough that we can talk,” John said as Johnny joined us, standing in the doorway, leaning against it with his arms crossed and his face sour. “There’s no good way to say this, so I might as well just say it. Johnny, your sister and I had a one night stand and now she’s pregnant.”

“Bullshit,” Johnny scoffed.

“Sergeant,” John growled in a warning.

“She’s not pregnant,” Johnny said, not backing down. “You two may have fucked, but she’s not pregnant. She’s just trying to get money out of you.”

“I went to a fucking doctor’s visit with her. She is pregnant and she’s been trying to avoid me and push away any help I offer her because you and your parents seem to have it out for her,” John snarled, standing up. “Now, I don’t know what your parents told you, but your sister has done everything in her power to make sure I’m not in my child’s life because you and them treat her like a plague rat. She has not once asked for a damn penny, let alone any large sum you’ve made up in your head.”

“You don’t even know if it’s yours!” Johnny cried out, pushing off from the doorframe.

“I’m the only one she’s been with, you fucking muppet! You’d know that if you’d talk to her like a decent person, let alone a decent brother!” John snapped, getting in his face. “I have been trying to do everything I can to make sure I have a relationship with my child, at least, because it is impossible to get close to her after everything you lot put her through! I gave you the benefit of the doubt even. That you were just fed lies so much that nothing else made sense! No, this is willful ignorance now and I won’t stand for it. Your sister has been alone needlessly for years. Be a fucking man and own up to your mistakes.”

The room was deathly quiet as the two men stood there, seething as they stared each other down.

“You know shit ain’t been addin’ up, Johnny,” a low, gruff voice said. A man with a skull balaclava stood off to the side as he watched everything. Had he been there the whole time? “It hasn’t been for a long time.” Johnny turned away from John to look at the man then to me. His snarl faded as he kept our gazes locked before walking away. “I got him, you take care of yours, Price,” the man said, calmly walking after my brother. John nodded, letting out a breath he’d been holding.

“I. . . I’m sorry, Love,” he said softly, taking a seat next to me, his head hanging as he stared at his hands. “I know you didn’t want any of this and I’ll take you home if you want me to.”

“John,” I said, reaching over and taking his calloused hand in mine. “Thank you.” He looked from our hands to my face, his brows relaxing a bit from the worried scrunch they’d been stuck in.

“You’re welcome,” he said softly, leaning in to kiss my cheek.

“I think maybe we should try things differently,” I said, bumping his head with mine.

“Yeah?” He hummed, pulling me close to rest against his chest.

“Dating. We should date. Start there and work our way up,” I said, nuzzling against his chest. He was wearing a soft cable knit sweater and I wanted to climb inside it with him.

“I think that’s a good idea,” he said, his voice rumbling deep in his chest as he put both arms around me.

“I also need the insurance papers again. . . I lost them,” I said, tucking my head under his, happy in the warm and safe spot I’d made.

“Of course,” John said, chuckling.

“Also. . . That was really hot, you standing up for me. I don’t think I’d ever been so turned on before,” I said, hiding my smirk.

“Brat,” he snorted. “Do you want to go home?”

“Can you come with me and stay?” I asked, pulling away to look up at him.

“Wild dogs couldn’t keep me away,” John smiled, leaning down to kiss me.

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gladerwolfstarkimagines · 2 years

Text

Imagine Camilo getting jealous when you start spending time with his family because you’re his best friend and he likes having you to himself...while having no idea you’re only doing it because you like him too.

When your house had a fire The Madrigals were the first to offer to help. Party because they were the leaders of your town but also because you and Camilo were best friends. When you need a place to stay while your parents sorted everything out the Madrigals didn’t hesitate and so you temporarily moved into the famous Casita.

Camilo didn't like this for two reasons. 1. Being a part of a big family and a middle child it was hard to feel special but with you he felt like the most wonderful person in the world. You were so kind and positive, it always made him smile and he didn’t really want to share that with anyone else, he’d grown protective of you. 2. He had a pretty big crush on you which he was sure his family would sniff out the second they saw you together.

For these two reasons you never really hung out at Camilo’s, he’d always come to you instead but you were his best friend. When he heard the situation he didn’t even contemplate telling you no. He sorted it all with his family and helped you move in.

The Madrigals were very curious about you, they’d of course met you but they hadn’t been around you a lot so they were excited. So of course the second you sat down at the dinner table they all started grilling you, to find out more about you. Before promptly moving on to the more practical stuff. “Now we have one more thing to discuss” Abuela said “y/n’s accommodation”. Camilo paused “her accommodation? This is it!” he said gesturing to casita. Abuela nodded “yes but we haven’t chosen a room for her”. “Well she’ll be staying with me right?” Camilo asked, He thought it was a no-brainer but apparently not. "Y/n can’t stay with you! I know you're close but we don't want to encourage other things" his Abeula said and Camilo frowned "what do you think we do at hers every time I stay over?". His family all paused misinterpreting his meaning and Camilo rushed to explain he meant he stayed over in your every time he went over. "Yes well Isabela's room is big enough for two so y/n will stay with her. Your room is far too small" Abuela said dismissively and Camilo knew there was no arguing with her now. Camilo turned and looked at Isabela worried. His cousin could be horrible at the best of times, he was worried she'd be cruel to you. He tried to catch her eye but Isabela barely glanced at him and after dinner she rushed off with you before Camilo could say anything.

Your POV You’d just finished the best meal of your life when Camilo’s cousin turned to you “so want me to show you to my room?”. You nodded “yes please” and Isabela led the way upstairs. "You don't have hay fever do you?" she asked turning to you. You shook your head "nope! I also have a really weak sense of smell". Isabela nodded "that's handy" and she pushed open her door. "Woah!" you cried "your room is beautiful". "Really?" she asked "I figured pink and flowers weren’t really your thing considering you’re constantly in dark colours". You smiled "hey I know I'm pretty monotone but I do love pink! It just doesn’t suit me as it does you. Regardless your room is lovely and the flowers...wow. do you have a favourite?". The easiest way to get into Isabela’s good book was to talk about flowers with her. Isabela nodded "It used to be roses but recently I've really been enjoying lillies". "Wow all good choices" you smiled and Isabela looked at you "what's your favourite?". You laughed "it sounds stupid but I really like cacti". Isabela laughed and you nodded "I know right! Crazy". "No I...come on” she said tugging you towards her window at the far side of the room. She threw back her curtains and smiled “ta-dah!”. On her window sill were a ton of baby cacti all potted neatly. "You have a whole cacti nursery!" you cried excited and Isabela smiled, pleased you got as excited as her over cacti. "I've only just started growing them but I'm still working out how to make them flower". You nodded "yeah cacti can be stubborn bastards, I was reading something about that the other day let me see if I can find it" and you dug into your boxes (that Luisa had very kindly brought up) to find a book. "I've read a lot of books on plants so I'm not sure if you'll have anything..." Isabela said frowning. "Ow it's not a book just my grandmother’s gardening notes, she was a great herbologist....here it is!". You read the passage before passing it to Isabela "have you tried altering the sodium levels in the soil?". Isabela flicked through the passage and shook her head "no I haven’t...and she’s given 3 other suggestions I’ve never even heard of, how did she learn all of this?". You shrugged "apparently it was her passion once all her kids were older and she was really good at it. One of those cases where she got into it late in life but still aced it. It's kind of reassuring knowing you don’t have to be perfect from a young age, you can always discover something new later". Isabela nodded "yeah that's a nice thought...can I borrow this? I want to see what else she worked out". You nodded "of course! I'm nowhere near as good as my grandmother but I do like gardening so if you want any help just let me know". Isabela smiled "I might take you up on that". She was beginning to like the sound of her new roommate.

The next morning Camilo had hardly got any sleep last night and he waited anxiously for you at the top of the staircase. He hadn't heard any yelling from Isabela's room and Dolores said you’d been up talking till late but sounded happy. Camilo was nervous though and so he waited to see if you needed saving, he could always beg Mirabel or Dolores to share with you if his Abuela insisted on this stupid no sharing a room rule. Camilo was debating how to challenge her when Isabela's door opened and laughter escaped. Camilo frowned to see Isabela was the one beaming. You were telling a story that was apparently very amusing. "Morning Camilo" Isabela said when she saw him and you smiled "hey Camilo". "Hey...so how was being roommates?". "Great actually!" Isabela smiled "if only I could've had a sister like y/n, I've asked her to trade with Mirabel but she said no". "Because Mirabel is great and you know you love her really" you replied before spotting Camilo’s expression "are you okay?". He nodded "yeah I just remembered I left something in my room so I'll meet you downstairs". You both nodded and walked away leaving Camilo stunned. What on earth was going on? The bonding only continued. You and Camilo hung out all morning but come the afternoon he had chores so you stayed in the living room and did some school work. You were trying to solve a math equation when you heard the door go and Dolores rushed to get it. From the way she was laughing and how high her voice went you figured it was her boyfriend Mariano and he soon appeared proving you right. He said hello to you and you smiled back pleased Camilo’s sister was so happy however it wasn't meant to last. Pepa appeared not long after and told Dolores Mariano would have to go soon as she had to babysit Antonio. Apparently everyone would be out soon and Dolores was the only one free. Dolores tried arguing but Pepa wouldn’t budge and so Dolores sent Mariano away looking very sad. You noticed this and waited for Pepa to leave before going over. "Dolores can I speak to you for a moment?". She nodded "sure I'm stuck here after all". "I think I can help with that...see I'm planning on staying in all afternoon so what if I babysit Antonio for you?". Dolores paused "aww y/n I can’t ask you to do that! My mother would flip if she knew".'" I won't tell if you won’t" you smiled "I really don’t mind! I’ll be here anywhere so it seems cruel to make you miss out on a date with Mariano. I mean how often do you get time to just be with him?". Dolores nodded "good point...you're sure you don’t mind?". "Not a bit" you smiled "go, we'll be fine". Dolores grinned "thank you y/n you’re the best" and she hugged you before rushing out the door.

Camilo’s POV Camilo's day had been pretty good. He’d got his chores done early and so was making his way back home in a great mood. On his way he passed Dolores who told him "your best friend is amazing". Camilo of course knew this but wasn’t aware Dolores had such strong feelings for you. However before he could ask her what happened she’d passed him and so Camilo just carried on home.

Camilo heard laughter as soon as he walked inside and he followed the noises upstairs. Camilo walked into his brother's room to find you dressed as a cheetah. Atleast that's what he thought the dots on your face were supposed to be. It was actually very very cute. You appeared to be playing some animal version of hide and seek and were “hunting” Antonio when you spotted him. "Camilo!" you said jumping and you blushed "hi". "Nice tail" he smiled "so I'm guessing you got stuck babysitting and Antonio wanted to play rainforest?". You nodded "yup but it was actually quite fun! Antonio's room is awesome". Camilo nodded "I get lost every time I come here". You went to reply when a mini cheetah (Antonio) leapt at you "I found you!" he cried and you laughed cushioning him as you fell so he didn’t get hurt. "I was meant to be stalking you remember!". "Yeah but you got distracted by Camilo" he said giving his brother a pointed look as if Camilo was disturbing a very important meeting or something. You smirked looking to Camilo "you're right Camilo did distract me! How rude of him". "Hey I just came to see if you were okay". "Well we are, so go!" Antonio cried "I was to play with y/n and you always get to play with her". You smiled "that is true Camilo" still going along with this. "Well what if I joined in?" Camilo asked. Antonio shook his head "no y/n is better than you, you're too loud". You snorted at the look on Camilo’s face but soon stepped in. "How about we let him play to be nice? I can teach Camilo to do better". Antonio sighed "fine but he’s on your team" and he rushed away. "Teams?" Camilo asked "so who's on Antonio's side?". "The leopard" you replied "so you better do better this time" and with a smile you dragged Camilo off into the rainforest. Camilo could honestly say that was the most fun game of rainforest he’d ever played and his brother seemed to agree. He practically had to drag Antonio away from you and promised you’d all play again soon. You had a big smile on your face and Camilo shook his head "I think he likes you more than me". You laughed "no I'm just the fun friend who’s visiting. He definitely loves his cool older brother the most". Camilo blushed remembering how you always made him feel like this and he smiled "well regardless one thing is for sure". "Ow yeah and what's that?" you asked. "We make adorable cheetahs" Camilo replied wiping a dot on your cheek and you burst out laughing making him smile even more. Your POV

After living with the Madrigals you began to notice some things...like how Luisa did a LOT. Of course all the Madrigals pitched in when their gift would be useful but a gift like super-strength was pretty in-demand and so Luisa was called on a lot. While you were just waking up she was already downstairs, scoffing down a quick breakfast and getting on with her chores. While you were taking a shower and getting ready she’d already been into town and solved a few crises’. When you and Camilo walked through town you heard countless people calling for her or asking Abuela if Luisa could help them tomorrow. You began to feel bad at how overworked Luisa was so you decided to try and help her by taking atleast one thing off her list.

Every day the donkey man would lose his flock. You’d have thought after many repeats of this he’d have learnt to keep a closer eye on them or just get a more secure field but no, it was easier to rely on Luisa so he didn’t. You thought it would be nice if Luisa didn’t have to do this one thing every day, maybe she could use the twenty minutes to relax, read a book or even just sit down and have a meal. So you began watching the donkeys to learn their routine and you spotted something interesting.

Luisa’s POV

Luisa was on a roll. She’d helped rebuild the school, moved some trees around and had done all her family chores and it was only 2 o’clock! If she kept it up she might be able to get some light exercise in before dinner but she was getting too excited. She had to just keep making her way through her tasks and not get ahead of herself. Sometimes the same task could take considerably longer depending on the day so she’d learnt not to get too pumped about any possible free time she might have. So Luisa put a break to the edge of her mind and made her way towards the donkey fields. They shouldn’t have wandered too far so if she could just catch them as quickly as possible...when she froze.

Down the mountain pass was a line of donkeys but they weren’t going away from the farm but towards it. Luisa frowned, utterly confused before she saw a figure at the front. It was you and the donkeys were all following you. Luisa watched as you led them all back to the farm before closing the latch firmly. Luisa ran up to you very confused. "How did you do that?" she asked and you jumped "Ow hey Luisa! I thought I’d try and pitch in with the chores and noticed you do this every day so wanted to see if I could help”. Luisa smiled “that’s so kind of you but seriously how did you get them all to just follow you like that”. You smiled “with these!” and you pulled some carrots out of your bag. “I started watching the donkeys and I noticed something, they really like carrots! Every morning they’d see Mr Hernandez drive by with his produce with the carrots on the very top of the pile. They really like them so they follow him but get lost because their attention spans aren’t that great and then you’d find them and the same thing would happen the next day but it doesn’t have to be this way! If we get Hernandez to choose a different route or just keep them on the stables until he’s passed it should solve the problem...or we could just make the lock more secure". Luisa paused "I...yeah they all sound good. Which one is best?". You shrugged "well a secure pen means they'll never get out if anything else distracts them so I'd vote that one". Luisa nodded "okay secure the pen...well I could carry large stones and put them around d it or dig a moat". "Or we could just put actual locks on the door?" you asked "with this one all they need to do is nudge it and it opens". Luisa nodded "locks, locks are good". You smiled "great, okay I'll go grab some in town and get them fitted". Luisa frowned “do you need any help?”. You shook your head “no i’ll be right back! You just sit here, enjoy the sun and make sure they don’t get back out”.

Luisa nodded “just sit here and enjoy the sun” she repeated to herself “that should be easy enough...right?

When you got back ten minutes later you found Luisa re-arranging the pen so all the water tanks were in the shade. “Luisa!” you cried “I told you to relax”. She froze and dropped the tank suddenly making the donkeys jump. “Sorry!” she apologised to them “I tried relaxing I did, i’m just not good at it! I don’t get what I’m supposed to do”. You smiled “here i’ll show you” and led her to a nice shade part of the field. You brought a chair and eased her into it. You lifted up her feet and got her some water and a random book you found. “Here” you said and Luisa took it from you “okay now what? What should I do to relax?”. You smiled “you’re already doing it!”. “I am?” she asked surprised and you laughed “yep and on your first try too! You’re a natural”. Luisa paused “so I just get to sit here and read?”. You nodded “or nap, or sing, or eat whatever you’d like to do”. Luisa paused “hmm it might be nice to close my eyes and enjoy the sun for a bit. I hurt my back the other week and this feels nice”. You smiled “then go right ahead! I’ll get the lock fitted and let you know when it’s done. Until then you just sit here”. Luisa nodded “okay” and closed her eyes.

That night you and Luisa came home together and she would not stop singing your praises. You brushed off the compliments but all of his siblings and cousins agreed, joining in. Except for one of them.

Mirabel Despite being the same age Camilo and Mirabel weren’t that close. They used to be when they were kids but after Mirabel’s ceremony there had been a divide between them. It wasn’t a purposeful divide but one that existed all the same. It’d gotten worse as they got into their teen years and at school they barely interacted. So when Camilo and you set off to watch a school football match one afternoon he didn’t even think to ask Mirabel who was sitting quietly reading. You however did "hey isn’t Mirabel coming? Our whole class will be there". "Ow I’m not sure..." Camilo answered honestly and you smiled "well why don’t we ask her?" and before Camilo could protest you’d walked over. Camilo had been looking forward to some quality alone time with you at the football match but it was too late now. He saw as you charmed Mirabel and she asked anxiously if you were sure. She looked over to Camilo to check and he couldn’t let her down so he nodded giving her the thumbs up. Mirabel smiled and agreed, you returned arm in arm with her and took Camilo’s other arm "she said yes so now I get two wonderful Madrigals!". Both Mirabel and Camilo blushed but you didn’t notice. You were already leading them out the door.

You had a pleasant walk down to the football pitch and got some good seats not too close but not too far away. You had been a hit with all the Madrigals so far and Mirabel was no exception. Camilo watched as you chatted to Mirabel as if you were old friends and she was soon laughing and grinning widely...a little too widely. Camilo had seen Mirabel like this before and it was always around pretty girls she liked. Now Camilo thought you were very pretty so he was keenly watching the two of you and thought Mirabel was acting more and more suspicious until suddenly she did it! Her go-to flirt which was to compliment the girl while twirling her hair. Camilo completely understood Mirabel’s infatuation with you but he wasn’t going to lose you. Game on cousin he thought and began competing for your attention.

“Hey y/n remember that time a few weeks ago when that dog ran onto the pitch and scored a goal?” Camilo called. You immediately turned to him with a big smile on your face. “Yeah that was the best match of the season!”. Mirabel grinned “I bet! What kind of dog was it?”. “Ahh you just had to be there” Camilo replied before you could respond and Mirabel frowned “what?”. “We also got those nachos that night, remember y/n?”. You nodded “yeah they were really good! I hope they’re here tonight”. “Ow you like nachos? I make the best nachos! My mom taught me the recipe and it’s amazing” Mirabel smiled. You turned to her excited “no way! You so have to teach me that recipe or you know just make it for me sometimes” you joked and Camilo almost gasped when you winked at her. “Hey Mirabel remember that time you gave everyone food poisoning because you forgot to cook the chicken properly?”. Mirabel paused and her smile dropped “that was like two years ago!”. “Yeah but remember how funny it was?” Camilo asked “the vomiting and the way your mom didn’t let you near the kitchen for months afterwards? Good times”. Mirabel frowned “well remember the time you pulled a prank on my dad and broke his leg?”. “What!” you cried spinning to Camilo who blushed “it wasn’t that bad...”. “It was in a cast for months!” Mirabel cried and you frowned “what happened?”. “It was an accident” Camilo tried but Mirabel cut him off “so my dad was coming upstairs when Camilo gets the idea to scare him. He hid and when my dad reached the top he transformed into a huge Abuela and yelled “”Agustin!””. Of course my dad screams and fell right down the stairs”. You winced “ouch that must’ve hurt”. Mirabel nodded “it did, even my mom couldn’t heal him fully. This happened only last year, didn’t Camilo tell you?”. Camilo glared “why didn’t you tell Y/n about the great food poisoning incident before offering her food?” Camilo shot back. Mirabel shook her head “so what anytime we discuss food I have to bring up that once I didn’t cook something properly? What kind of logic is that?”. “Good logic!” Camilo replied and Mirabel raised an eyebrow “are you sure?”.

"Okay!” you said suddenly standing up “I’m gonna go grab another drink, does anyone want anything?” you asked. Camilo and Mirabel answered at the same time “no!” before they realised and glared at one another. You stood up “okay, I'll be back in a sec” and you disappeared. The two Madrigals watched you walk away, big smiles until you disappeared. "What are you doing?" Mirabel asked turning to Camilo who raised an eyebrow "me? I’m not the one who hasn’t taken their eyes off y/n for the past hour". Mirabel blushed "I have no idea what you mean". "You like her!" Camilo cried and Mirabel went even redder "well I...y/n’s pretty amazing okay! Why did you never set the two of us? Way to hold out on a cousin". "Because I want y/n to be just my friend, nobody else’s" Camilo said before he could help it "I don’t want her dating someone else or hanging out with my family I want her all to myself and I know that's selfish but I..." when he realised Mirabel was laughing "what's so funny?". Mirabel smirked "we must have a genetic vulnerability to y/n because you’re doing the same thing as me! You like y/n too!" Camilo blushed "I...she’s my best friend". "Yeah who you want all to yourself all the time...that's just a bit too friendly Camilo". "Shut up" Camilo blushed as Mirabel laughed more "no wonder you were so mad at me flirting with her! How didn’t I see this before? You’re practically in love with her! Well don’t worry I'll bow out but you definitely owe me" Mirabel said and with a last laugh she left the game leaving the two of you alone like Camilo always planned but now he was a lot more nervous.

Of course the second the words left Mirabel’s mouth he knew they were true. The way he felt around you, how he couldn’t help but smile when he saw you, his desire to keep you totally for himself all pointed to the same thing, he’d just ignored it for so long because he was scared. What if you didn’t like him? Camilo was jolted out of his thoughts as you appeared "hey, where did Mirabel go?". "Ow she remembered she was supposed to do something important for Abuela so she rushed home". You frowned "aww that’s a shame" and Camilo couldn’t help but feel a little jealous. "Yeah guess you're stuck with me" he said smiling but you picked up on his tone and knew it wasn’t a joke. "I'm never stuck with you Camilo, you're my best friend. Why wouldn’t I want to spend time with you?". Camilo shrugged "just ignore me sorry I've just been...feeling a little insecure this week that’s all". You frowned and scooched closer "do you want to talk about? The thing that’s making you feel insecure?". Camilo paused and before he could help it he was blurting it out "I like you". As soon as the words left his mouth Camilo was horrified and his eyes widened in terror “I have to go!” he declared.

He just ran for it. Panic seized him and he chose the flight response. However you weren’t letting him off that easily. You followed him and quickly caught up to him “Camilo! You can just take off after saying something like that”. Camilo sighed “I know i’m sorry...I just really didn’t want to do this”. “Do what?” you asked and he sighed “this, wondering what you’re gonna say...it honestly more nervewracking than my gift ceremony”. You frowned “well I’m sorry you feel so stressed but you know you can tell me anything and you don’t have to be scared of my reaction right? I’ll always be here for you Camilo, nothing can ruin our friendship”.

That one word told Camilo all he needed to know. You just wanted to be friends. He tried not to let the disappointment show on his face and nodded “thanks y/n...that’s reassuring”. You could tell he was still upset so you carried on quickly. “Now can you expand on what you said earlier because I like you too Camilo and if you meant it in the way I’m hoping you did then I’d love to date you”. Camilo started “pardon?”. You chuckled “I like you Camilo Madrigal and have for a while, was it really not obvious? Why do you think I was trying so hard with your family? I wanted them to like me! I know how close you are with them so I figured if they didn’t like me that would blow any chance I had with you”. Camilo laughed at the irony “this whole week I’ve been stressed because I thought you liked my family better than me”. You smiled “really? When the whole time I was doing it precisely because I like you”. Camilo blushed “wow I’m an idiot”. “No you’re not” you said taking his hand “I didn’t realise how you felt or that I’d been leaving you out. I’m sorry”. Camilo shook his head “it’s not your fault, I was being overprotective and sensitive...you really like me?”. You laughed “of course I do! Now how about we ditch this sports thing and go hang out just the two of us? No other family members in sight”. Camilo blushed “that sounds perfect” and he offered you his arm. Together you walked away into the bright afternoon.

_____________________

Happy National Latino Heritage Month!

I thought I’d post an old Encanto imagine I had written ages ago to celebrate. So if there are any people still not over how great Encanto was, this is for you!

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2manyfandoms2count · 4 months

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Message in a Bottle

Happy Valentine's Day! I'm a little late to the @theerasfestlovesquareversion party, but here's my submission ❤ Special thanks to @miabrown007 for beta-ing!

Happy reading!

Read on AO3

---

Marinette sat at her desk, one foot tucked under her, thoughtfully clicking her pen as she tried to organise a message.

Her thoughts, which went a thousand miles an hour on a slow day, had come to a freeze about twenty four hours prior, when she’d seen – and heard – Adrien’s lips pronounce three little words she’d only ever dreamed of hearing from him. It was just her luck that they were tuned out by warning beep s, and followed by the Startrain doors clicking shut, as in slow motion, without her being able to do anything to stop them.

A part of her had screamed, urging her to chase after the moving vehicle, but her body had remained standing still on the platform, completely and utterly stunned.

She still wasn’t entirely sure how she’d gotten back to her parents’ bakery. How she’d gotten to bed, fallen asleep.

All she knew, as she’d awoken in the morning, was that she knew something she didn’t before, and felt a sense of clarity regarding what she needed to do – but that was when her mind had woken up, too.

And thus the calm before the storm had ended, her mind suddenly swept by a force faster than the wind, dispersing any coherence in her head, scattering words like autumn leaves, before they even got a chance to associate with each other.

She slammed her head on the table, hoping it would help reset her brain; unfortunately it only brought on a throbbing pain. She winced as she rubbed the budding bump on her forehead.

“Screw it,” she mumbled, finally putting her pen to paper.

Dear Adrien,

My feelings since you’ve left have been all over the place, but it’s kind of frightening how happy the three little words you said as the doors of the Startrain closed, made me. They’ve been all I’ve been able to think about (which you know better than anyone might not be the best thing right now – but in a good way! I wouldn’t want you to take them back for the world. Unless you want to. Which would definitely not be a problem, of course. Although maybe just a little. But I’d get over it, I promise).

Marinette’s hand hovered over the page. She was rambling – which could be fine when she talked, but felt pretty stupid to her in written form. This wasn’t her diary. She couldn’t afford to have a stream of consciousness run on her page; maybe Adrien would read it, and think she was crazy, rip up the letter, throw it in the fire, and she’d never, ever, hear from him again. And then what?

If anything, the reason he’d gone to London in the first place, to get away from the press following Hawkmoth’s (his father’s!) defeat, so he could focus on the latter’s upcoming trial, was enough to justify a clear and concise message. She didn’t want to burden him with her feelings when he surely had infinitely more serious things to think about.

“Marinette, it can be just a first draft, you know.” Tikki’s soothing words snapped her out of her spiral.

She looked up at the small divinity, who smiled encouragingly. She nodded, then turned her attention back to her words, biting the end of her pen as she reread them.

Little did she know that Adrien, a small body of water away, was doing exactly the same thing…

—

Dear Marinette,

I’m so sorry I panicked. I didn’t mean to say I like you . Partly, because it’s a little embarrassing that I blurted it out like that – but mostly, because I like you doesn’t even begin to cover how I feel about you. I just saw you, your freckles (the ones I thought I knew like the back of my hand – but that couldn’t be true now, could it? Else I would’ve realised who you were sooner), your smile, and the way you looked at me, and suddenly I got cold feet, and that was the extent of what my tangled brain could produce.

Adrien spun in Félix’s desk chair, assessing what he’d written thus far. It was a good start, he supposed. His life had been turned upside down by the cataclysmic revelation that Hawkmoth was, in fact, his father, and arguably even more so by the fact that Ladybug was Marinette – he was allowed a certain amount of disorganisation.

Although he’d obviously been surprised by the former fact, he had to admit that, retrospectively, it did make sense. He even felt stupid for not figuring it out sooner – or, rather, for figuring it out back when Hawkmoth’s powers were still fairly limited, and the damage done (both physical and psychological) was only a fraction of what would happen next, but being too much in denial of the kind of person his father was, and therefore falling for his tricks.

But his father had grown cockier with his powers, sloppier. His desperation sent him in a slow, downward spiral, hijacking his every thought, eating away at him until one day, he’d stumbled out of what Adrien would later discover was his lair, straight into his atelier, holding his head in his hands – still clad in the purple suit that made most of Paris tremble.

Adrien had stood frozen in the doorway, at first not comprehending what he was seeing. Then, as his father – Paris’ most wanted villain – finally noticed him, the cogs in his brain had whirred again, and he’d made a dash for his room, knowing fully well what he needed to do.

Plagg had to go. Whatever happened next, he couldn’t end up in his father’s hands.

He’d sent his best friend and his ring away just before the iron curtains had come down on his room’s windows. Just before the tears came streaming down his cheeks, as he cowered in a wardrobe, completely and utterly alone.

Until Marinette’s rescue mission, that is.

Her being Ladybug, had come as both a complete surprise and an obvious conclusion to a mystery he’d done his best not to uncover since the day he’d first met his Lady. Adrien had obviously dreamed of figuring out who hid under his partner’s spotted mask, daring to ask every so often on the off chance that maybe she’d reconsidered her stance on the matter. But never, in his wildest dreams, had he ever made the conscious link between the two girls who brightened up his life.

(Not that he remembered, anyway.)

Her plan had been so ingenious that he hadn’t clocked what was going on at first. He’d heard his father go on a rampage around the mansion in his search for him, half begging Adrien to listen to his explanations, half threatening him; and then there was silence as the doorbell cut through his words, and echoed through the house, once. Twice, insistent.

The silence was loud for a second, followed by footsteps running down the hallway. Gabriel opening the door. Voices, cordial at first, although Adrien couldn’t quite make the words out. He wasn’t entirely sure how it had happened, what Marinette had said, but somehow, she’d been invited in.

“Adrien?” His father’s tone was completely normal as he’d knocked on his door. “Adrien, your friend Marinette is here to see you. She saw the security system go off and came to check if everything was alright.”

“I know how you feel about closed spaces,” Marinette had chimed in. Adrien had slowly crawled out of his hiding spot and made his way towards his room’s door, frowning, trying to remember when he’d told her about his fear. “It’s almost as bad as one of our friend’s fear of running out of cheese,” she’d added as he’d opened the door, turned towards Gabriel.

Adrien had stared at her blankly.

“Another one of our friends is worse about sweets, though,” Marinette had continued seemingly breezily, but Adrien had noticed the insistant glance she’d thrown him. “You should see her in January, she can’t get enough galette.”

Gabriel had chuckled politely, his shoulders tenser than usual, tearing Adrien’s focus off of Marinette’s words. “Well, as you can see, Adrien is very well, no need to worry. Now, if you don’t mind, I have an important matter to discuss with my son.”

Adrien had felt his blood run cold as his father’s fingers dug into his shoulder, which, from Marinette’s perspective, he assumed probably looked like a recreation of the painting looming over the grand staircase.

“Oh, of course, I’ll probably leave you to it, then,” Marinette had looked down, and fidgeted with her ring.

Adrien had been torn between screaming out for her to make a run for it, to get as far as she could from the mansion and his father, somewhere safe, and begging her to take him with her. But something about her gesture had caught his attention.

Marinette didn’t wear a ring. And this wasn’t an Alliance ring, which he’d seen spread among his peers like wildfire. They didn’t have a common friend who loved galette. Or camembert.

The only person he knew who loved camembert was…

He’d caught Marinette’s eyes, hoping she could read the question in his eyes. The way she’d nodded back, very slowly, led him to think she had.

Swiftly, he’d turned around before his father could move, and grabbed the brooch he’d suspected lay beneath his scarf, tossing it to Marinette (Ladybug!), who’d caught it just as she called for her transformation. She’d grabbed his hand before jumping over the balustrade, almost dislocating his shoulder in the process (a small price to pay to get away, really).

Adrien had heard his father swear after them, his footsteps rushing down, but he didn’t get very far. Ladybug opened the mansion’s door, and what seemed to be the entire Parisian police force rushed in, tackling him to the ground.

Just thinking about it again gave Adrien palpitations. He took a deep breath and got out of the chair, deciding to take a small break from writing. He owed Marinette so much.

—

Anyway, I know it’s only been a couple of days, but I haven’t had any news from you, and I feel like I’m going crazy. Realistically, I know that I like you, combined with our double… friendship, I guess?, must mean that I’m not just any friend to you, but I can’t help but wonder why you’re so silent. I guess I haven’t really been in touch either, even before your departure, but there’s just been so much going on with the trial… I don’t want to bother you, but you should know I’m here if you ever need to talk. Kwami, I wish we could talk right now. Even if I like the idea of sending you a letter, since there’s less chance of things getting lost in nerves.

Because I love you, Adrien. I’ve been trying to tell you for so long, but it never felt like it was the right time nor place to say it. I think I know why, now.

Marinette put her pen down and rubbed her face with her hands. The more she thought about it, the more everything made sense. All this time, she’d felt as if she’d been missing a piece of a puzzle, which threw all her confessions slightly off kilter – as it turned out, her feeling had been justified.

What a shame the moment everything fell down like pieces into place had to be when Adrien had to leave.

She shook her head. It was only temporary. She sat back in her chair with a sigh, looking out of her window. It was getting late; Notre Dame’s façade was illuminated, casting a comforting glow in the night. She wondered if Adrien’s view was as pretty as hers, and what he was up to. She didn’t dare bet he was thinking about her, but she hoped he did.

Do what you will with this information, she scribbled under her confession, sighing. I’m here if you need to talk, about anything you want. The weather, the upcoming trial, how you’re doing in London, how annoying I can imagine Félix being, what everyone in the class is up to, physics… You name it! I just really want to hear your voice again, especially your laugh.

You deserve to laugh, Adrien. So, so much. And I hope this letter brings at least a smile to your lips.

—

“Kid, you should be careful where you put your letters, I almost used it as a napkin for my extra mature pont l’évêque ,” Plagg yawned.

“It wouldn’t matter much if you did,” Adrien sighed.

“Yes, I read it, you’re not sure you’ll send it, blablabla,” Plagg mimicked, holding up the piece of paper.

“Hey! That was supposed to be private!” Adrien snatched it from his flippers with a huff.

“It would be a shame, you know. It’s just the kind of thing Pigtails would love to receive.” Plagg shrugged.

“You think?” Adrien asked, his voice suddenly hopeful.

“Trust me, Adrien, I know. ”

Adrien couldn’t help the wide smile that spread on his lips at the thought. He went through his latest addition to the letter.

You know, I feel like my neurons are a little less scrambled now, but Aunt Amélie is keeping me busy on this side of the Channel (I’m really discovering London, though, which is nice – I’d never been to Brixton, Camden or Hampstead Heath, but they’re great places to explore! I’d like to take you there someday, if you’ll allow me), and on the rare occasions I can sit down, which is generally late at night, I have to try and focus to go through the mess we’re going to be faced with. To tell you the truth, I much prefer sitting here writing to you, even though I don’t even know if I’ll ever even send you this letter.

I keep thinking about the next time I’ll see you. I really want to run back to Paris, to you; I almost did, back on the train. I’m sure there would’ve been a way to stop it in its tracks, but in a way, I’m glad I didn’t. Even if there’s nothing I would’ve liked more than staying with you, putting a little distance between me and my father was quite welcome. If only there’d been a way for you to be with me…

Sometimes, I think about calling you, but I’m always afraid that it’ll be a bad time, what with the UK being an hour behind you and all.

He picked up his pen and added:

I hope you’re okay and that you know that I miss you and our hangouts, both in school and on the rooftops. I can’t wait to see you again, my Lady, whatever the circumstances. A small part of me hopes that it’ll be before the trial, or that we’ll get to be alone together for a bit afterwards. You and me against the world, and everything.

(And maybe some of your dad’s chouquettes.)

Lots of love, and hope to hear from you soon,

Your Adrien

“There,” Adrien announced to no one in particular as he sealed his envelope. “I really hope you’re right, Plagg.”

—

Anyway. I won’t hold you up any longer, but I just thought you should know how I feel. I’ll see you at the trial, at the latest – please don’t love London so much that you won’t come back…

Forever yours,

Marinette

Marinette dotted the i in her signature with a heart, and decided against re-reading the whole letter. Instead, she took out an envelope, neatly folded the page in three, and slid it inside. She wrote out Adrien’s name on the front of it, along with the Fathoms’ address, stuck a stamp at the top, and indicated her return address at the back.

Then, she picked up her bag, and prepared to go to Alya’s. She’d post the letter on her way there; it would distract her from the wait that inevitably came with snail mail.

She hoped her letter wouldn’t get drowned in the mass of mail Adrien surely received.

Now, all she had to do was wait.

—

A week later, coming back from school, Marinette found a letter on her desk, and recognised the address’ calligraphy instantly. She all but tore the envelope open, her heart rate accelerating and a smile spreading wider and wider on her lips as her eyes progressed through the message.

The date at the top told her that Adrien had written to her before reading her letter, but one thing was for sure: they were on the same page.

She placed the sheet back on her desk when she was done, feeling giddier than ever, and reached for her phone – it started ringing in her hands, Adrien’s face lighting up the screen. She almost dropped it in surprise.

“Hi,” Adrien’s voice breathed on the other end of the line.

“Hi,” she repeated, feeling herself blush. “How are–”

“I got your letter,” he blurted quickly, cutting her off.

“I got yours, too.” She gently ran her fingers down the paper on her desk.

“Good, good.” He chuckled awkwardly. “Hey, I know this is a strange request, but would you mind going up to your balcony for a second?” he blurted quickly, cutting her off.

“Um, okay.” Marinette frowned a little, but still made her way up. Maybe it was a question of connection.

She swiftly pulled herself out of her skylight, and froze.

Her balcony was covered in red roses: they were entangled in the wrought-iron, stood in vases on the floor, in a petal path leading straight to… Astrochat, sheepishly holding a single red rose. He hung up the phone.

“I love you too, Marinette,” he said.

Tears welled up in Marinette’s eyes as she threw herself into his arms, hugging him as tightly as she could.

“Don’t worry about me not coming back, I’ll always stay,” he whispered in her hair.

Marinette looked up at him, feeling like her heart might burst out of her chest.

“Glad to hear that, silly cat,” she said with a smile, standing on her tiptoes to brush her lips against his.

One of his arms wrapped around her waist while his other hand softly cupped her face as he deepened the kiss. Fireworks erupted in Marinette’s stomach. She wished time would stand still to let her savour this moment forever.

Although her wish wasn’t granted, knowing that Adrien returned her feelings and would come back to her did make their parting a little easier.

“You know, I don’t know what the future holds for us, my Lady,” Astrochat said as he was about to leave, gently taking her hands in his, “but one thing I do know is, if you’ll allow it, I’m never letting go of you, of us. Not if I can help it.” He brought her hands to his lips, his eyes boring into hers.

“I’ll hold you to that.” Marinette answered, pink dusting her cheeks.

“I bet you will.” He winked. “See you soon, my love.”

He kissed her again, gently, longingly, and then slid his visor shut and took off.

Marinette wistfully watched him fly away, her chin propped up on her arms, leaning on her bannister.

She truly was the lucky one.

#honestly this event was so fun #and now i have a bunch of fics that fit both of my hyperfixations waiting for me #post exams is going to be litttt #miraculous ladybug #taylor swift #miraculous fanfiction #miraculous fanfic #ml fic #prpr #adrienette #canon divergence #adrinette #adrien agreste #marinette dupain-cheng #they're in love your honour #and they have one (1) braincell #elle writes

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ur-mentallyill-wench · 3 months

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Ok so this is actually 100% ripped of from this post

But I just changed it around a bit and wanted to put my spin on it :) this takes place season 5 but let’s pretend Troy never left. I know it’s cringe and bad I can’t write and sorry it’s so long

Setting- Pretty much the same, the Dean rented out a venue for a dance only this time it’s a valentine dance however on a “coincidence” they get stuck with said bisexual lighting that Abed will make his comment on

Background/ cold open- of course no dance at Greendale would be complete without alternative motives, this one being the Dean trying to get Jeff as his date to said dance (I don’t ship them but I think the Dean liking him is funny). To go along with this plot you aren’t let into the dance without a date, the Dean makes sure to make it clear it doesn’t have to be a real date (cue aggressive cueing to Jeff) In the end Jeff and Britta and up being each others fake dates seeing as they hadn’t been spending but time together, leaving Troy, Abed, and Annie (Shirley isn’t going)

A plot- Troy instinctively turns to Abed pitching to go as fake dates, seeing as they did nearly everything together and it’s not like either of them had a girlfriend. To this Abed would agree although he’d say something along the lines of “or maybe we could try and get dates, I mean spending time with you is great but we’ve been going to school here for 5 seasons with not end in sight, we may as well try to get girlfriends considering neither of us have had a real relationship” (cue offended gasp from britta). This makes Troy upset for whatever reason, he knows Abed is right but he’d rather just go with Abed then bother finding a date, with this he turns to his next best option, Annie, who is more then enthusiastic to go with him despite being over him she’s still gitty. Abed ends up going with Rachel, this once again makes Troy feel certain way but he still can’t put his thumb on it, Annie immediately notices something’s up and brings up the idea that it has something to do with Abed. Troy would say something along the lines of, “I really don’t know, I think your great and I should be estatic to have a date with someone a good as you but I can’t stop thinking about him, like how could he pull her this easy and get along with her so good, I’ve never even heard of this girl”. At this point Troy is completely detached from his “date” with Annie and is now ranting about how there’s no way Rachel is better then him or good enough for Abed while Annie just stares at him knowingly. Of course with Annie’s help Troy comes to the realization that even id he can’t put his finger ong why he wants to be with Abed, whether platonicly or romantically he wants to be with him. The night goes on like this, Troy occasionally going over to talk to Rachel about Abed before sulking back to Annie. Over the course of the night and talking to Rachel Troy gets increasingly mad that Abed doesn’t seem to care until the point on him storiming up to Rachel and airing out shit about abed (he’s controlling, trackers in his friends, uses people) and so on until Abed comes up on them and Rachel tells Abed something and storms out, leaving Abed to turn to Troy distraught. He’s says something about how he really liked her and Troy confesses that even if he doesn’t know want it is he’s drawn to Abed and wants to spend the rest of his life with him, he doesn’t want to be boyfriends or anything it he doesn’t want to see Abed leave him, Abed would say something along the lines of, “I don’t know how to take this but if there’s anyone I’d want to spend the rest of my life with it’s you, and we can make out own thing up it’s what we do anyway” more emotional dialog that I’m not smart enough to write but it ends in them kissing to bisexual lighting glaring around them and the song Somewhere Out There playing in the background

B plot- Jeff and Britta end up going to the dance together, I don’t have much to say here but it ends up it them saying how they’ve missed spending time together (I ship them in a they keep getting divorced and getting back together way) but they end up having a good time together. Also Jeff finds the Dean sulking and they end up sharing a dance together

C plot- not much here but I think it would be funny to have Chang and Duncan trying to pick if ladies to go to the dance but they end up wasting all there time with no ladies wanting them (just some funny bar scenes idk)

Ending scene- Troy and Abed telling people they’re dating of course with “Troy and Abed are dAtInG” a shocked gasp from Shirley and Annie (Annie knew) and britta giving Jeff twenty dollars for losing the bet of wether they’d get together

#sorry it’s so long #and so shittily written #community tv #abed nadir #troy barnes #trobed #annie edison #jeff winger #britta perry #jeffbritta #ben chang #ian duncan

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daytaker · 4 months

Text

3. Detours

(Existing Sucks So) Let's All Be Shadows.

A Satan-centric Nightbringer Timeline Fic (Read on AO3) *This post combines Chapters 3 (Rulemaker) & 4 (Detour) from the AO3 version for a smoother read, IMO.

Chapter Starring: MC, Lucifer, Mammon, Satan Chapter Word Count: ~4k Chapter Warnings: Mentions of Leon Trotsky

“Satan, there are many things about this world you don’t understand yet. You can’t learn everything from books, I’m afraid.”

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I thought I was starting to settle into my role as demonsitter–sorry, attendant–but the incident with Satan and Solomon’s cookies set me back a bit in Lucifer’s book. Of course, I knew he would find out what had happened, so I didn’t do much to obfuscate the truth when he started asking questions. Lucifer always found out in the end. Even Satan seemed to accept that, not denying a thing as he glowered at the floor and let Beel help him to his room. Satan was confined to his room then, though after the walk back from the castle, he didn’t seem to be in much condition to do anything else. It was one punishment after another for him, it seemed. I wasn’t sure how effective that approach was, but it wasn’t as if Lucifer was taking constructive criticism from outside sources. But Lucifer took my decision to go to Barbatos for help instead of him as something of a slight, and the fact that I carried around Solomon’s cooking at all clearly didn’t sit well with him.

“It was considerably reckless of you to wander around with Solomon’s cooking in an open container,” Lucifer told me directly the next afternoon. The eldest brother had taken me to the common room and had me sit down on the sofa across from him, a tea tray sitting on the table between us.

“I’m sorry,” I said in reply to Lucifer’s comment, bowing my head. “It was late at night, and I wasn’t expecting to run into anyone.”

“However, you did.”

I shifted uncomfortably in my seat. “...I never meant for Satan to get hurt.”

Lucifer sighed, crossed his arms, and leaned back in his seat. “No, I suppose you didn’t. You wouldn’t have sought treatment if you intended to hurt him. Nevertheless, your antics put him in danger–again.”

“Again? ...You’re talking about what happened the day we met, aren’t you,” I guessed, and Lucifer nodded. I wanted to say that I hadn’t meant to hurt him then either, but my involvement was much more direct in that instance, so I didn’t think I’d look any better if I argued my case. So I turned up the self-deprecation a little and bowed my head. “I’ve done an awful job keeping him safe.”

“And an exemplary job getting him injured.”

That stung just a little. I bit my lip and clenched my fists at my sides. “I’m sorry.”

Lucifer took his teacup and saucer. He held them near his mouth, but didn’t seem very interested in actually drinking anything. Staring into the liquid, he spoke quietly, almost to himself. “I don’t understand why Diavolo relies on you so implicitly. Making you our attendant, appointing you as one of the founders of his new school… I don’t understand it.” He looked up at me. “I hope you don’t take offense, but I have no reason to trust you.”

I shook my head, though I felt pretty dejected. “I’m not offended. Like you said, you don’t have any way to know if I’m trustworthy or not.”

Lucifer stared at me for a few seconds, then set his tea down and sighed loudly. It was a sound I instantly recognized from my time with the brothers back in my era. That was how Lucifer sighed when he knew he should be angry with me, but he wasn’t, and he was frustrated with himself for giving me such lenient treatment. It was a very specific sigh, but I’d heard it enough times that I knew I was out of the woods. There was a light at the end of the tunnel. I wouldn’t die today.

“...That being said, I don’t have any particular reason to distrust you, or to question Diavolo’s judgment.” He leaned back in his seat. “The incident at the time of your arrival aside, it’s only to be expected that someone would be overwhelmed to suddenly receive so many responsibilities. And like I said, I don’t suspect you of any malicious intent in the incident this morning.”

I smirked internally.

“So, granted you understand your mistakes and promise to alter your behavior in the future, I don’t see how any severe reprisals could be of any benefit. However, I would prefer to be present during your interactions with my brothers for the foreseeable future.”

The internal smirk faded, replaced with a grimace. Oh, man. The boys were going to love this. I could already picture Mammon’s expression. Jaw hanging open, stuttered protests barely escaping his throat as his brain worked overtime, trying to process the sheer horror of sharing me with Lucifer “for the foreseeable future.”

------

“What do you mean, ‘for the foreseeable future’?!” Mammon sputtered.

After Lucifer and I left the common room, Mammon had sprung on me with a request to go shopping. It was obvious he’d been waiting in the wings for me to finish with his brother. However, whatever hopes he’d been harboring about our afternoon were dashed when Lucifer smilingly agreed to join us.

“Nah, no way! I’m headed to Majolish. That place really ain’t your style,” Mammon had said, casually dropping an arm around my shoulders. “We’ll pick you up some new socks though.”

That was when Lucifer let the ax fall.

And the cries of disbelief began. “Foreseeable future? What the hell’s the foreseeable future?” Mammon didn’t have an arm slung around my shoulders anymore so much as he was clinging to me like a child afraid of losing his favorite toy.

“Long enough,” Lucifer chuckled. It was one of his scary chuckles; the kind he used when he knew he was jabbing someone where it hurt.

Mammon must have texted his brothers the news, because within minutes Belphegor and Leviathan were in the hall with us lodging their own complaints.

“You’ll get bored,” Levi insisted. “I need someone to be my P2 to unlock the rest of the achievements in Friday Night Fantasy II: Chronicles of Nox.” He looked at me. “I’m going to 100% it, and I’ll have to spend some time teaching you the basic mechanics, but it’s a pretty standard rogue-like game with a gacha system. You won’t have to worry about drawing for weapons or anything though because I’ve gotten pretty much everything, and the game’s got a trading system that you can abuse the hell out of. So we’ll have to get your account and character set up quickly before the developers crack down on that.” He turned back to Lucifer again with an uncharacteristically cheerful expression. “Wow, that probably sounded super boring to you, didn’t it! Don’t worry, we’ll be fine if you leave us alone. Don’t worry! Definitely don’t worry.”

Lucifer didn’t have a chance to respond to all that before another complaint went up.

“Hmm… We won’t need you around while I’m sleeping either.” Belphegor glared sullenly at his eldest brother. “Don’t be so controlling.”

Lucifer quirked an eyebrow. “You plan to…sleep? With our…?”

“I don’t want you to watch me when I’m sleeping.” Belphie interrupted as if he hadn’t heard his brother. He glowered at Lucifer through his mop of hair. “That would be creepy.”

“But ya do want some random demon from off the street to watch ya? At least be consistent,” Mammon scoffed. “Anyway, I dunno what you’re complainin’ about. You won’t know who’s around if you’re just sleepin’ anyway.”

“Not some random demon off the street. Our attendant.” Belphie cast a glance that was somehow both scorching and sleepy in Mammon’s direction. “I like listening to lullabies.” Then he shifted a softer glance in my direction. “You seem like you’d have a nice voice.”

Just what did these guys think an attendant’s job was?

“I don’t mind if Lucifer wants to eat with us,” Beelzebub offered. He and Asmo had turned up at some point while their brothers complained, and the front hall was starting to feel a little crowded.

“I don’t mind if Lucifer joins us either!” sang out Asmo, hugging my arm. “The more the merrier in my bathtub, that’s what I always say!”

Lucifer grimaced. “It hadn’t occurred to me that each of you independently planned to monopolize this demon’s time.”

“This is stupid.”

We all looked down the hall. Satan stood with his arms crossed over his chest, a characteristic scowl on his face.

“Ah, shouldn’t you be resting?” I asked, a little awkwardly from my spot squeezed between Mammon and Asmo, with Belphie drifting off on my shoulder.

“Don’t tell me what to do,” he snapped, casting glares at all his brothers. He looked like a cat that entered a pen of puppies looking for a fight. At last his gaze landed on Lucifer. “What the hell is this stupid new rule they're all texting me about? You can’t trust us to take care of ourselves around one shrimpy demon?”

I somewhat resented the term “shrimpy”, but he wasn’t exactly wrong.

“This demon was trained in magic by the greatest human sorcerer to ever live,” Lucifer reminded him. “Though you seem unwilling to believe it, I have your best interests at heart.”

“I don’t want your protection. Do you really think so little of us that we don’t even get to have a say in the matter?”

“Satan,” Lucifer sighed, “there are many things about this world you don’t understand yet. You can’t learn everything from books, I’m afraid.”

For a moment, Satan looked genuinely taken aback. The moment ended quickly, though, and Satan’s tail snapped like a cracking whip. “Don’t speak to me like I’m a child!”

“Hey, hey, take it easy, guys,” Mammon cut in, letting go of me to position himself between his feuding brothers. “Listen, Lucifer, Satan’s got a point. You might be the de facto leader ‘round here, but ya can’t just go around makin’ up rules left and right.”

Lucifer’s reaction to Mammon’s interjection was frigid. His eyes wandered from Mammon, to Satan, then over to me. He almost looked like he expected me to add something to the debate. But I had enough sense not to stick my neck out in a situation like this–especially one that I indirectly caused.

Satan, on the other hand, looked like he’d been thrown entirely off his balance. The cocksure readiness to go into whatever might come next swinging had drained from his face, and instead, he was looking at Mammon as if he’d just discovered a new species of fruit bat. Surely this wasn’t the first time one of the brothers had taken his side in an argument…? Right?

“Ugh… I hate to say it, but Mammon’s making a lot of sense,” Belphie said, lifting his head from my shoulder and wiping his mouth on his sleeve.

“Why d’you hate to say that?!” Mammon exclaimed.

Belphie ignored him. “And Satan too. We aren’t little kids, y’know…?” He shifted his posture, now leaning against Beelzebub. “Isn’t this part of why we’re here in the first place…? Because we didn’t want to blindly follow orders from someone who thought they knew better than us?”

Lucifer had looked as chill as ice before, but a flicker of surprise broke his expression then. He opened his mouth, then closed it again, and, unusually for him, he seemed to be taking a moment to decide what to say. “...Belphegor. Mammon. I understand your frustration. We’ve only just been given leave to live outside the Demon King’s castle, and here I am, imposing more restrictions on you.”

Satan’s face, which had been looking from Mammon to Belphie with an expression that almost resembled hope, clouded over and hardened as he looked at Lucifer again. “Don’t listen to him,” he said. His voice was steady, but there was a cloying desperation at the edge of the tone he used. “He’s full of it. You know he is.” He looked at the rest of his brothers, trying to rally them. “You don’t have to be obedient little boys anymore. This is Hell. We’re demons. And demons…” He cracked a smile. “...Don’t you want to spend time with your new ‘friend’?” He pointed at me, and I felt oddly exposed. I didn’t like the way he said friend. “Lucifer, are you jealous?”

His earnest expression had shifted into a sneer, and I realized that he’d lost the plot. Whatever he wanted to say against Lucifer, he’d thought better of it and switched tactics.

“Jealous?” Lucifer's expression was unreadable.

“Look at all your brothers. They’re just desperate to spend time with…what’d you say, Mammon? Some demon off the street?”

Mammon shifted uneasily, his eyes darting to me, then to the ground. “Well, yeah, but, I mean, I didn’t mean…”

“It seems a little bit like they’re all desperate to have someone else to rely on. Someone besides Big Brother.”

I glanced around at the rest of the brothers. They all avoided eye contact, and Beel gripped his gurgling stomach with both hands. They seemed unhappy, confused, and uncomfortable.

“Satan, I believe you’ve made your point.” Lucifer seemed to have fully recovered his composure. He exhaled and glanced around at his brothers. “There’s no need to make this matter so contentious. I won’t force my presence upon anyone if you really feel so strongly about it. But I expect to be informed of who you are with and where you are, if either of those things involve any of my brothers.” The last sentence was directed at me, and I nodded in amazement. Somehow… that had worked? I wasn’t sure if it was Satan or Belphie’s words or if it was little more than a tactical retreat by Lucifer, but seeing him back down shocked me.

I wasn’t the only one, either. All six of Lucifer’s brothers looked astounded. Even Satan was caught thoroughly by surprise.

“...Does that mean we can go to Majolish?” Mammon asked after a brief silence.

“I’m coming too!” cried Asmo.

“I wouldn’t mind the fresh air,” Belphie said with a soft smile.

Beel nodded to his twin. “We could get dinner while we’re out too.”

“Hey, whoa whoa whoa, that wasn’t an open invitation!” Mammon raised his hands up defensively and glared at his brothers.

Levi groaned. “I can’t believe I’m forced to go out with a bunch of normie extraverts like you.”

“Nobody’s forcing you to do anything! Stay home!” Mammon barked.

“Hm. It doesn’t seem like my presence would be such an encumbrance at this rate,” Lucifer commented. Then he laughed another one of his knife-twisting laughs. “I might as well come along after all.”

Mammon looked gutted, and Satan looked like Trotsky after the failed 1905 revolution. He didn’t meet my eyes as he turned around and walked deeper into the mansion.

------

The trip to Majolish was about what you would expect. The place mostly cleared out when the brothers entered; their reputation as fallen angels was still fresh, and it was only due to their status as the demons who had tamed Cerberus that they were let inside at all.

The staff were standoffish, keeping behind the counter and in the lounge behind the shop as much as possible, but that didn’t bother the brothers much–not that I could tell, at least.

Mammon wanted me to watch him parade in and out of the dressing room in a whole variety of stupid outfits. Asmodeus wanted me to watch him parade in and out of the dressing room in a whole variety of stupid outfits while also trying on a bunch of stupid outfits myself. Levi settled into a chair outside the dressing room with a portable game console and became absorbed in it almost immediately. Belphie fell asleep in the chair beside him, hugging a pillow and resting his head on Levi’s shoulder. Beel kept wandering out of the front entrance and staring wistfully at the food stalls whose wares Lucifer refused to buy. Lucifer himself stood in the center of the store, browsing the socks and briefs with an expression of almost comical severity.

I sat on Levi’s other side whenever I wasn’t humoring Asmo’s need to dress me up, and between fielding Mammon and Asmo’s need for validation of their fashion tastes and listening to Levi explain his tactical decisions in My Secret Devildom Life, I stared out the window and demon-watched.

I wasn’t as surprised as I should have been when I noticed a certain yellow-haired demon loitering around the area, seemingly careful not to get too close to the store. I pulled my D.D.D. from my pocket.

> You can come in if you want. > 4:28 PM

I’ll admit, it was a little funny to watch Satan glance at his D.D.D. and do a double take before quickly retreating out of my line of sight.

------

In the end, Lucifer was characteristically frugal, and Mammon and Asmo both left Majolish disappointed. But Mammon was still undeterred on one count.

“I’ll walk ya home. The rest of you can go get lost.”

He grabbed my hand and tugged me after him before his brothers could object.

So, I’ll come out and admit it. I’ve always had a soft spot for Mammon. He’s so full of bluster, but he’s the easiest guy to read, and there was something supremely satisfying to know someone was enamored with you in such a puppy-dog sort of way. So I didn’t really mind him pulling me along, introducing me to sites we both knew I was more familiar with than he was.

“You ever been to that joint?” He pointed to one of the classier restaurants in the shopping district. He continued without waiting for an answer. “I hear it’s run by a syndicate of witches. They’ve got pacts with some of the best chefs in the Devildom and they force ‘em to work crazy hours. Honestly, it’s wild to me how demons’ll make a pact with any old human with something half decent to offer. What’s so funny?”

“Nothing, nothing.” I smiled to myself, but did my best to keep any further giggling to a minimum as memories of a frozen credit card crossed my mind.

The thing that was most amazing to me about the Devildom was how little it changed over the thousand or so years between this time and my own. Many of the same establishments were open, and the street layout was virtually identical. There was nothing to compare this to in the human world. Some human civilizations didn’t survive as long as a Devildom cafe apparently did. Still, this was good news for me. If I was playing the part of a demon, I should at least seem like I know my way around the Devildom I’ve presumably been living in since my birth.

I’d forgotten about Satan’s brief foray into stalking us outside Majolish by now. So when he was suddenly walking alongside me on my right, I almost jumped out of my skin. My hand tightened around Mammon’s, and he let out an embarrassing shriek of surprise when he saw who had joined us.

Satan found all this hilarious. He was snickering at my startled reaction already, but when Mammon yelped, he actually cackled.

“What the hell, Satan?!” Mammon’s face turned red as he realized how ridiculous he must have sounded, and he tugged me over to his other side so he was walking between Satan and me. “Lucifer said you weren’t supposed to leave the house today! Didn’t ya keel over earlier?”

Satan didn’t seem too bothered by our change in position. He kept on walking, undeterred. “The day I start willingly doing what Lucifer tells me to do is the day Hell freezes over,” he replied with a shrug.

“But you were sick earlier,” I argued. “I didn’t drag you halfway around the Devildom to get treatment just to have you pass out and die outside Cocytus Hall.”

“Drag him halfway ‘round the Devildom…?” Mammon looked at me with some confusion, then glared at Satan. “What the hell’d you do, anyway? I just thought ya were hungover!”

“You honestly thought that I was out binge drinking?” Satan delivered Mammon an intense, frosty stare. “You really think that’s what I’d do with my hard-won freedom?”

“I mean, that’s what I might do,” Mammon said, losing confidence partway through the statement. He caught Satan’s eye and waved a hand at him. “...Alright, whatever, it don’t matter anyway. But if you’re sick, you gotta go home!”

“It was food poisoning,” Satan said calmly. “I’m better now.”

It was more like poison poisoning, but I didn’t think Satan would want me to nitpick.

“Well, even if you ain’t sick. Go home.” Mammon gave Satan a meaningful stare, glanced at me, then looked at Satan again with raised eyebrows.

Satan pretended not to understand the not-so-subtle hidden message in the gestures. “No, I’d rather stay out here with you.” He leaned forward, looking past Mammon to see me better. “You’d know this. Where’s the library around here?”

“Hey, I might’ve known that,” Mammon argued.

“Do you?”

“Well…”

Satan nodded, then looked at me again. “So where is it?”

I glanced between the brothers, then shrugged to Mammon. “It’s not that far out of the way. I don’t mind showing him the library.”

Mammon groaned petulantly, but he didn’t have much of an argument against the detour. So we went off course to the south a short distance, and soon the spire of the library was visible above the lower roofs surrounding it.

“How many books does it have?” Satan asked me as we drew nearer.

“Uh,” I answered.

“Who the hell would know that?” Mammon said in my defense. “Lots! Duh!”

Satan pulled ahead of us as we approached the library’s entrance. When Mammon and I stepped inside, we found him staring up at the high walls, the ladders, the neatly ordered shelves, all crammed full of books. It was moments like these that reminded me how short a time Satan had actually been alive. It was evident he’d never seen anything like this before.

“How…do you know where anything is in a place like this?” he asked in a murmur.

“There’s a numerical organization system,” I explained. “There should be signs on the shelves that give an idea about the topics they cover. So, say, the ones over here–”

But he was already gone, darting from shelf to shelf like an excited kid. Mammon exhaled and looked at me.

“Alright, let’s beat it before he gets bored.”

“You don’t wanna watch him?” I asked.

Mammon looked bewildered by my question. “Why the hell would I wanna do that?”

“Look.”

I pointed to where Satan was balancing a few dozen books in his arms. Librarians, evidently recognizing a hazardous customer when they saw one, were shadowing him with obvious anxiety.

“Heh. Funny. Now come on, I gotta get you home before it gets too late.

I sighed, but I decided to humor him. Satan seemed busy enough, and Mammon was obviously feeling impatient and attention starved.

------

Where did you go? 9:01 PM

I had just said goodbye to Mammon and flopped onto my own bed when my D.D.D. pinged me. It was a message from Satan.

My stomach dropped. I couldn’t help picturing him, standing with seventy books carefully balanced in his grasp, looking back and forth around the entrance to the library with growing dismay. We hadn’t even said goodbye, I recalled with a sinking pit of shame tunneling through my innards. We just left.

> Mammon wanted to go, and you seemed busy… > 9:03 PM

Okay. 9:04 PM

The terse reply sent a chill down my spine. As tired as I was, I found myself getting up again and heading to the door, slipping my shoes on.

> Are you angry? > 9:05 PM

I’m annoyed with you. 9:08 PM

Another chill. Most people would try to play something like this off, even if they were a little hurt, but not Satan. He was brutally honest.

At the very least you could have texted that you were leaving. 9:09 PM I think that’s pretty much common courtesy. 9:09 PM

> I’m sorry, Satan… > 9:10 PM

I stepped out into the night, feeling tired and guilty and a little peeved with myself for being such a soft-hearted idiot.

> I’m heading back over there now. > 9:11 PM

Don’t. I already left. 9:21 PM

…Ten minutes. He waited a full ten minutes to let me know I shouldn’t bother. Either his arms were full with books during his walk home, or he was a real jackass.

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