#why do i catch myself still falling for the manipulation at times. when i react with fear to that voice

[soul-spoken]

I wasn't expecting the overwhelming panic seeing and hearing that brought. I'm usually fine, hell - I actively listen to songs reminiscent of everything so often.

I wasn't expecting that tone of voice, the setting, any of it, to send me into a spiral.

I hate feeling so scared, especially over nothing but a video.

I need to calm down, get some air.

[midnight-bay-if]

Hey, Hey! 🖐✨

How would ROs react if Mc decided to do the “Ignore them for 24 hours” challenge? (It would just be an innocent joke, of course. But the ROs don't need to know🤭)

(Are you all tapping into Umbra's greatest fears on purpose? LOL. I want to answer these light-heartedly, but there's no way this wouldn't freak Umbra the f out. Or maybe it's my fault for making Umbra a mess of hang-ups, haha.)

S: S catches on pretty quickly. The first time they engage with you and you blanket ignore them, their itching for manners begins to scratch. They're not your parent; it would be strange for them to start giving out etiquette lessons. When it keeps happening, however, it dawns on them you're doing it on purpose.

So, they play along. "This is a very serious ailment, MC. There exists creatures so small they can crawl into your ear cavity, burrowing their way to your brain. Once inside, they play havoc on your cerebral cortex, and manipulate you into thinking you do not wish to talk with those closest to you. They isolate you from everyone you love before striking. You might think you're choosing to ignore me right now, but you're being controlled. I'll call in some favours. I know a particularly good surgeon who will operate on short notice."

They smile at you ominously as they pull out their phone. "Try not panic, MC. I'll sort this out for you."

Rain: Rain is pouting. It takes a while for them to understand what is happening. There are a few moments of genuine concern as to why you are ignoring them before they get it. Then, when they do, they're whining. "MC, pleeeeease... this is killing me." If you still do not break, they opt for literally prodding you instead. A poke to the cheek, a poke to the lips, a poke to the ear.

They'll get you to break somehow, even if it means putting together a whole comedy routine.

Taj: Totally unbothered at first. In fact, they gloat about the silence as they bask in their newfound peace. "Ahh, the day is surprisingly serene, isn't it, Koel?" They tease, stretching out lazily. When you don't respond, they shrug.

As the day goes on, however, the silence begins to grate like nails on a chalkboard. Like any good cat, they should receive the attention they desire when they desire it. Don't think you can get away with ignoring them. They might even start knocking stuff over. "Koel, talk. Now. Or I will keep you awake all night."

N: Good luck. It won't work, haha. N has the unfair advantage of being able to slither into your mind at a moment's notice. You're not talking to them? Very well. They pointedly stare at you before their voice appears in your head. "Oh, fun. Is this the game we're playing now? We can have private, naughty conversations outside of your little friend's ear shot. How very daring of you, my dear."

It would take great skill and practice to silence one's thoughts so you're not instinctively replying to them, haha.

Umbra: The first time it happens, Umbra doesn't think much of it. Perhaps you didn't hear them. So, they repeat. And repeat. And repeat. Their voice gradually increases in volume as the panic slips in. "MC, I'm here! I'm right here! Why can' you hear me?! No, no, no, no, no. It can't happen again. Please, don't let it happen again."

When they fall to their knees, tears streaming down their face, you know the jig is up. You don't understand their agony, but it's visceral in their screams.

Once you soothe their shaking and explain the nature of the joke, they are embarrassed by their fragility. "I am sorry, MC. I will learn how to drag myself from this pit of despair. I will burned you no longer."

[phantomrose96]

Buds After the Frost

This was supposed to be a short warm-up writing exercise yesterday and then it got... longer. Enjoy!!

...

The doors opened for Maddie Fenton with a pneumatic hiss. Pressurized nitrogen released, splitting open the vacuum seal on the door as its twin halves slid apart, slotting into the wall-mounted sleeves. The nitrogen misted out, cold and dry, air currents catching in swirls around Maddie Fenton’s lab coat. Her feet thocked against hollow metal, amplified by the coldness and the vastness of the containment room beyond.

She paused short of the specimen’s cell, mindful attention drawn to the panel of controls nested rightmost against the wall. The monitor read out stats, tracked metrics of the specimen’s heartrate and blood oxygenation and blood pressure. Dials beneath the screens offered her means of interaction, manipulating the cage’s environment without needing to tamper with it by hand. She ignored these, as she had been ignoring them the entire time, and paid mind only to the single switch which would seal shut the doors behind her.

She pressed it. Another pneumatic hiss followed, locking out the world behind her. Her breath curled, cold. She and the specimen were alone.

“No coffee this morning?” he asked.

Maddie sat down at the control panel, elbow leaning against the dashboard for support. She turned to the cage. “No. One of the interns broke the pot last night. New one should be delivered today.”

Phantom let out a huff of air. “You mean in this whole gigantic mega-hyper-futuristic government lab, there’s nothing that can stand in as a coffee pot?”

“I wouldn’t stay employed long if I tried using equipment to brew coffee.”

“Use one of the big ectoplasm beakers. Ectoplasm washes out with soap and water. Just suds it up and throw it in the coffee maker. I’m an expert about these things.”

“It’s more about protocol.”

Phantom waved her off. “’Protocol.’ Bureaucracy is standing between you and a delicious cup of ectoplasmic coffee, Dr. Fenton.”

Maddie looked forward now, taking him in. He’d hovered to the front of the cell, translucent reinforced glass separating him from the rest of the lab. Green eyes shined above a cheeky smile, a dusting of loose white hairs falling over his eyes, the rest of his bangs swept slightly to the side. His tailed flickered, his aura pulsed, his vital readings blipped out steady, normal, healthy.

“Phantom?”

“Yeah?”

Maddie paused.

“Why are you still here?”

The ghost boy let out a small guffaw. He motioned his arms around him, hands waving. “I dunno. Maybe the big ghost-proof box I’m in has something to do with it?”

“The shield is down, Phantom,” Maddie answered quietly. She set her eyes to Phantom, investigating. “…I put it down last night. It’s down now. You knew this.”

Phantom took just a moment too long to react, eyebrows arching up. “Oh, huh! Nope I didn’t notice. I mean it’s not like I’m constantly throwing myself at the barrier to electrocute myself so no I just didn’t try getting past it last night so I didn’t notice.”

“Phantom,” Maddie said again, voice measured, words stern. “You saw me crank down the dial that controls the shield.”

“Well I don’t know what all those buttons and dials do.”

“Yes you do. You’ve been observing me since day 1. You knew.”

Phantom kicked back in the air, floating a fraction back and higher. “Well maybe I thought it was a trap, I dunno. Or maybe I just like to get in your head, you know? What unpredictable thing will Phantom do next! Gotta write another 200 equations about ghost theory to figure that one out, Dr. Fenton.”

“Phantom.”

“Yeah?”

“Do you not want to leave?”

“Oh I wanna leave.”

“Then why aren’t you?”

“We’re having a conversation. That’d be rude.”

“Will you leave as soon as I exit the room?”

“Who knows?”

“Phantom.”

“Yeah?”

Maddie stood. She left her chair and the control panel behind. She walked up to the specimen cage instead. It was cubic, a skeleton of metal bar ribbings with a metal mesh that plastered the glass sides like a membrane. The top anchored to the ceiling, the bottom—raised by about a foot—anchored to a pedestal on the floor. Maddie stared through the mesh into Phantom’s eyes.

“Is there anyone who realizes you’re missing?” she asked.

Phantom chewed on the question. “Nah. Well um, trick question, actually. Probably not. Assuming I do this right, then no one has even realized I’m gone.”

“Do what ‘right’?”

“You know that thing about Clockwork I explained?”

“You said he’s the ghost that controls time and reality.”

“Yeah. SUPER powerful.”

“And you said you …were from one of those other realities.”

Phantom nodded. “Maybe I touched some things in Clockwork’s lair I wasn’t actually allowed to touch. Jury’s still out on whether I’m in trouble for that or not. I’ve been a little too ‘stuck in this reality’ to know if Clockwork is pissed. But yeah, I got um, bopped into your reality instead of mine. So technically my reality is lacking me right now, and yeah there’s people there who’d know I’m missing.”

Phantom flipped upside-down, as though laying on his back. He rested his palms beneath his head, elbows out, suspended in an invisible hammock, head tilted far back so that he still stared at Maddie. “Especially since it’s been, what, a month that I’ve been gone?”

“2 weeks.”

“What? No way. I’ve been here absolutely forever it has to have been at least a month.”

“This is day 14 of your observation, Phantom.”

Phantom blew a strand of hair out of his face. “Anyway. Two weeks is still long enough to have a search party out on my butt. But whether or not that’s happened is up to – it’s kind of a Schrodinger thing. Because here’s my strategy. Assuming Clockwork hasn’t banned me from reality-hopping forever, I can just get him to send me back to my own reality at the precise moment in time I vanished. And then bam, no one ever knows I was gone. And it makes no difference whether I do that today, or next week, or next month. So assuming you eventually let me go, then I’m all set there.”

“You say that almost like you don’t care when it happens.”

“I dunno, more like I’m just not losing sleep over it. It’s not like I have a say in the matter. You do. I don’t.”

“Is the time you spend here just meaningless, to you?”

“I wouldn’t say meaningless. I’m still aging goddammit.”

“You’re a ghost.”

“I’m complex.” Phantom flipped right-side-up again. “If I start growing facial hair, send me back. I’m gonna have some awkward questions to answer if I show up again with a ghost beard suddenly.”

“…And what if I never send you back?” Maddie asked, careful with her words. “How does your plan work if you stay here forever? If I destroy you first?”

“Um. …It doesn’t, I guess.” Phantom set a hand to his chin, thinking. “Yeah um, please don’t do that. I don’t wanna worry my whole family like that.”

“Do you really mean that?”

“What part?”

“That you have a family.”

“I mean. I think that came up in Interrogation Session #3. Consult your notes.”

“I just have a hard time believing you.”

“Because I’m a ghost?”

“Yes.”

“I’m a complex ghost.”

“I know. You keep saying that.”

“It’s true.”

Silence filtered in between them.

“…What is your family like, Phantom?”

Phantom stiffened a fraction, his eyes finding Maddie’s and shifting away. “Oh, you know, family.”

“Do they exist here too?”

“Huh?”

“You’re from another reality, at least you’re claiming you are.”

“I gotta be. The me from this reality died 6 months ago, didn’t he?”

“The you from most realities is dead, Phantom. You’re a ghost.”

“A complex ghost.”

“The you from this reality was destroyed 6 months ago.”

“Which you validated with your own sciencey equipment, right? You said so! So you know I’m not lying. Unless you think I recombobulated myself from being a protoplasmic smear on the sidewalk.” Phantom caught himself, registering the flinch in Maddie’s body. He deflated a bit, eyes averted. “S-sorry. Inconsiderate phrasing.”

“Why?” Maddie asked, tone flat, blunt.

Phantom’s eyes shifted back. “Um. Just. You know. That accident was. There were um, you know—”

“Human causalities.”

Phantom squirmed. “We don’t have to talk about that, you know? No one wants to talk about that. Okay as a ghost I guess ‘talking about how I died’ is sort of a bit more normal, but this is weird yeah, ‘talking about how an alternate-me died permanently’? That’s morbid. No one wants to talk about that.”

“Okay then. You can go back to answering my previous question.”

“Um. I forget.”

“Does your family exist in this reality?”

“Um, well who really knows, you know? I had like a grand total of 20 minutes of freedom in this reality before you captured me, so, don’t ask me like I’m any kind of expert about your reality. What’s it matter?”

“I want to know if there’s anyone in this reality who’s mourning you.”

Phantom’s face schismed with surprise. His front dropped, and the first look of genuine emotion sank into his glowing eyes. “Woah… That’s um, weirdly nice, of you, I guess. Why do you… want to know?”

Maddie said nothing.

“I. Um. I think the answer is no? So don’t um. Worry about that. If you were worried? Which is weird. I’m the enemy, aren’t I? Evil spooky ghost to be studied?”

“I’m not so sure what you are…” Maddie answered. “I heard you got destroyed trying to save them.”

“The um… the human casualties?”

“Yes.”

“I said we don’t have to talk about that.”

“Phantom.”

“What?”

“Do you know who they were?”

“The… casualties?”

“Yes.”

“Come on we’re on a different topic now.”

“Do you know who they were?”

“I don’t—how’m I supposed to know? I don’t know how I died here, you know? You think I’ve got some kind of like… parallel-universe death vision?”

“So you don’t know?”

“N-no.”

“I have a different question, then.”

“Okay, good, because I haven’t been liking these previous ones.”

“Are you staying just to keep me company?”

Phantom faltered. He looked left, then right, hand scratching at his chin. “I’m staying because I’m in a ghost-proof box.”

“It’s not ghost-proof anymore. The shields are down.”

“I feel like you’re circling around some accusation I’m not smart enough to follow. This feels like entrapment.”

“Then I’ll be more direct.”

“Oh no there is an accusation.”

“I think you do know how you were destroyed in this universe, Phantom.” Maddie took a step forward, and she let her left hand touch the glass, eyes focused on her fingers. “I think you know what happened at the Nasty Burger.”

“That’s—um—the human food… consumption… location… that the local human adolescents meet at, yes?”

Maddie looked up, and she locked Phantom with her stare. He squirmed, and he relented.

“I um…” he continued. “I—yeah—yeah, okay? I know about the Nasty Burger accident. It was supposed to happen to me too in my reality but I—Clockwork—stopped it from happening in my reality.” Phantom glanced left, right, as if staring beyond the confines of his cage. “When I first got knocked into this reality, I went to go find the Fenton portal so I could try to refind Clockwork and fix this and… Well it wasn’t there. And I tried to find some people I know and… I checked out the library in case the Fentons just lived somewhere else and. I um. I found the articles.” His eyes focused on hers again. “They all say you were the only survivor, yeah…?”

“I was sick, that day. It was just a cold. My husband Jack went without me.”

“I’m sorry…”

“It took my daughter and my son too.”

“I’m so sorry…”

“And it destroyed you.”

Phantom opened his mouth, but no words followed.

Maddie looked up.

“You knew this. You’ve known this ever since I captured you.” Maddie let her hand slide away from the glass. “Did you let me capture you?”

“Why would I let you capture me?”

“Because you feel sorry for me.”

Phantom’s eyes flickered about, unwilling to meet hers. “…Nah. Nah. I don’t—come on ‘sorry’? I’m a ghost you know? Bane of humanity! We’re enemies. You were just too skilled a hunter and you captured me.”

“And yet you won’t leave.”

Phantom lapsed silent.

“I um… I wasn’t happy to read about—to know the, the thing at the Nasty Burger happened here, okay? That’s something that I kinda didn’t want to believe existed in any reality anymore, but I guess… And if you were still alive. I was… maybe just kind of happy to see you? That you were okay. And still hunting. That was kind of, like a small relief.” Phantom glanced away, back again. “I wasn’t evil, you know. In my reality or this one. I care about what happened to the Fentons…”

“You let me capture you. …And you did it because you thought it would be a nice thing for you to do for me.”

“I Just—I thought maybe, um… I mean when you phrase it like that. I mean what else could cheer up renowned ghost hunter Maddie Fenton quite like a ghost subject to study? Me, especially? The ghost boy or public enemy #1 or whatever. I’m fun, aren’t I?”

Silently, Maddie pushed away from Phantom’s cage. She moved to the control panel, stiff movements and numb fingers. She entered the release code into the console, and unslung the key from her neck to twist into the override, and she threw down each successive lever in the row of four lining the top of the mechanisms.

The scrape of glass sliding away sounded behind her. All four walls of Phantom’s enclosure dropped away, metal mesh sliding away piece-meal. Phantom stared at her, blinking, floating in place.

“You’re free to go, Phantom.”

“I—uh—well hang on, I don’t think the Guys In White would be too happy about that. You can’t just let me—”

“Go, Phantom.”

“They could like, fire you.”

“I don’t care about this job.”

“I—come on, you still wanna study me, don’t you? Chat with me? If you feel bad maybe just get me a couch and some video games for my cage then I’ll be—”

“Phantom.”

“What?”

“Go home to your family.”

The half-hearted smile dropped from Phantom’s face.

“Come on. You can’t just evict me on such short notice. I’m not ready for Clockwork to kick my ass so soon.”

“Go home.”

“I’m not in any rush! I like talking to you. Don’t you—don’t you like talking to me too? In like a scientific way?”

Maddie lowered herself into the chair by the control panel. She leaned forward, arms pooled in her lap, eyes to the floor. “You have a family to get back to, Phantom.”

“It’s—there’s time travel shenanigans! Like I said they don’t even know I’m gone.”

“Every single day, Phantom,” Maddie looked up, eyes stern, “…I wish every single day that my own family would just come back home. I won’t do the same to you. I won’t do the same to your family.”

Phantom said nothing. A somber acceptance sunk into his eyes.

“They’re… alive, you know. In my dimension.”

Maddie dropped her head, and she blinked away the wetness in her eyes.

“I actually… in my dimension I’m kind of closer to the Fentons than I think the, the Phantom in this dimension was. It’s… complex.”

Maddie said nothing. Silence built between them.

“Jazz is um… Jazz is applying for colleges, y-you know. She got in early-acceptance to Yale but um, we all—they all—visited Columbia last month and I think that’s what she wants the most. I can see Jazz in New York City. I think she’d rock it.”

Maddie blinked again. Tears plicked into her lap.

“…Should I stop?”

“Jack… Tell me about Jack.”

“Oh. Yeah he um… big and goofy as ever. He’s got some kind of eight-armed-octogun he’s working on. I know because I was his target practice, involuntarily by the way. He keeps trying to merge “Fenton” and “octopus” together with mixed results. We—Mo-addie—you… are still trying to talk him out of ‘Fentoctopus’.”

Maddie’s ribcage shuddered, a repressed sob, a repressed laugh.

“And Danny?”

“Danny… um… Danny is...” Phantom’s shoulders fell a little bit. He looked away, and then back at Maddie. “He loves you. I know that.”

Maddie blinked, and blinked again, and her eyes wouldn’t clear.

“And are they happy?”

“They’re happy.”

“Am I happy…?”

“You’re…” Phantom’s tail bounced. “You’re happy, I think. I like to think so. I think you’re very happy. You have a great family.”

Maddie nodded.

“Now go.”

“But I still—”

Maddie reached forward, and she grabbed the ecto-gun propped against the control panel. She lifted it into her shoulder, and flicked the safety, and the charge built along the rising whine.

“Go.”

Phantom balked. He blinked. He kicked away from his wall-less cage. “Not forever. I’ll be back. You won’t be alone here forever.”

He was gone.

And Maddie was alone again.

…

Clockwork surveyed the boy in front of him whose head was bowed nearly to the floor, white bangs trailing along cobblestone, hands clasped, apologies repeated, begging case made.

Clockwork ran a hand along his beard, which unfurled, drew back, undid itself with the shifting of his form to a simple child.

“So let’s see. You have the audacity to break my rules andbeg me to meddle on your behalf in the time stream, all in the same breath? Apologies don’t usually come with additional requests for favors.”

“I know,” Danny’s head dipped lower. “You can punish me however you want for touching the restricted timelines but you have to help it, or let me help this one timeline. Please, please just send me back to the Nasty Burger incident so I can save it.”

“It’s already been saved.”

Danny faltered. He looked up.

“You died at the Nasty Burger incident that night,” Clockwork elaborated, form shifting older. “There is no you to ruin that future. That timeline is safe. It’s a very lucky timeline.”

Danny blinked. “N-no. No that’s not what I mean. Save it like you saved my timeline.”

“That did happen. You’re describing your own timeline.”

“I mean do it to THAT one.”

“You are misunderstanding timelines.”

Danny lapsed silent. Worry bled into his eyes, and Clockwork sighed.

“There is no undoing timelines, Danny. There is only forking them by meddling in the stream. All futures and pasts you witness exist, and do exist, and continue to exist,” Clockwork paused, “with the exception of realities I needed to cull, to prevent utter catastrophe.” His gaze fixed on Danny. “The futures that your evil self destroyed, I did have to cull. And culling a reality is not to be done lightly.”

Clockwork motioned with his staff. “There were a handful of surviving realities that I was able to save. That room you meddled in without my permission—they contain the realities off the main track where, for one reason or another, something else succeeded at destroying your future self. …Your own deaths, in fact. In every one of those realities, Danny, you are dead.”

“I don’t…” Danny shook his head. “So then just tell me how to save that one I was in, okay?”

“Oh, that’s easy.”

“How?”

“You don’t.”

Danny said nothing. Clockwork shifted young.

“You can let it live on in that room, or you could ask me to cull it, Danny. You could ask me to cull every reality in that room, so that the main branch, the one you’re from, is the only reality in existence. So you never have to worry about any existence where your family is unhappy. And it will be that way until you, or I, or someone else, meddles with the timestreams again, and more splits occur.”

Still, Danny said nothing. Clockwork continued.

“Sometimes, a mass culling of realities is healthy for the tree of time, like pruning a plant down to its stalk to survive an unforgiving winter, or a terrible disease. But I did that, just recently, to save all of time from the blight of your future self. It would feel cruel to snip off the first buds that have come after the frost.”

Danny lowered himself to the floor.

“Okay…”

“Okay?”

He nodded. “Okay. Just. I have a different question then.” He looked up, a young devastation wet in his eyes. “Can I still go back and visit that reality, sometimes?”

“No. I cannot give you permission to do that.”

“Please!”

Clockwork spun his staff. A portal swirled into being in the space between him and Danny. Washes of color formed patterns, shapes, objects, images. Like a mirror, it reflected Clockwork’s lair beyond its shimmering surface.

“This is a portal back into your own reality. It is set to the location and the time that you vanished. Go there, and leave through the Fenton portal, and nothing will be amiss.”

“No. No no I won’t. Clockwork you have to let me—”

“I am doing you a favor, Danny, getting you home after you caused more trouble. Do not make further demands of me.” Clockwork curled forward, old, sallow skin sagging, and he turned his back to Danny.

“You have to give me permission—”

“I am the only one who has permission to meddle in realities, Danny. This is an absolute.” Clockwork glanced over his shoulder. “And because this is an absolute, I have no reason to have a lock on the room housing those budding other realities.”

Danny blinked.

“I wonder if anyone might break my rules anyway. I wonder if anyone might be nosy, and enter that room anyway, and water the plants in that greenhouse without my permission.” Clockwork stared forward again.

“Clockwork…”

“Luckily I am the master of all time. I would be able to see this coming. And maybe plan for it. If ever such a person would come into my lair, and meddle in my timelines, and try to spread a bit of his own kindness to the realities he couldn’t quite save, I would be fully prepared to stop him.” Clockwork spoke into the green abyss beyond him. “Unless, maybe, I were to accidentally have my back turned.”

Silence trailed after Clockwork’s words. He kept his back to Danny, staring into the abyss of swirling green ether beyond.

“…Thank you,” Danny answered, quietly. “I’ll be back.”

“I imagine you will. Those realities may get lonely without you.”

When Clockwork glanced back over his shoulder, both Danny and the portal were gone.

[violet-knox]

1 I would love to request a story for you if it´s still fine to do it, my request is a smut story with a quiet virgin female reader who is popular with opposite gender mostly because of her attractive physical appareance and for that when she confess that she have a romantic interested in him. He thinks is a lie or a joke to hurt him somehow but when she insist that her feelings are honest and she is willing to do anything.

Beauty’s Curse

Pairing: Young!Snape x Half-Veela!Reader

Summary: As Valentine’s day quickly approaches, you find yourself surrounded by more and more people asking to be yours, but you have your eye on someone else.

Warnings: (SPOILERS) Spiked drink, manipulation

Word Count: 6679

A/N: To be honest, I was a bit hesitant with this request because I knew it would be a rather big challenge. I didn’t want to write anything superficial or cliche, but I thought this would be a great opportunity to break the stereotype of “that pretty mean girl” and show that no one should be judged on their looks, even those who are considered attractive. 

I took inspiration from a situation I found myself in more or less recently, so please do read the warnings before reading this even though they are crossed out unless you really don’t want spoilers. 

Nearly six years had passed and the comments from your peers had never once eased. Valentine’s day had become your least favourite holiday from the never-ending line of people asking you to be their Valentine, each year worse than the last as your popularity increased. You knew it wasn’t their fault, not entirely. You were half Veela after all, something you never dare tell a soul. Rumours went around in your fourth year when you hit puberty, an invisible glow seeming to surround you as you walked down the hall, heads turning as they ogled you in amazement. ‘It was a gift’ your mother would always tell you, but you could never see it that way, especially after you’d agreed to go out with that boy a few years above you last year, finding out his charm only extended so far until his true colours showed. Since then, you’d done everything you could to contain your influence over those who yearned for you, knowing you’d never know true love if the man you ended up with only did so from his inability to resist you. 

You wanted to know what love really felt like, real love not the admiration the Slytherin boys chatting you up now were showing. It irked you how they’d suddenly surrounded you like this, three of them, all taller than you, all of whom were doing their best to impress you. One spoke of his father’s status at the Ministry of Magic, offering to take you anywhere you liked on Valentine’s day. Another tried to persuade you with the offer of visiting his mother’s shop in Westminster; the most luxurious dress shop in all of London he claimed, anything you wanted his mother could have you fitted for. The last boy had the nerve to try and hand over a necklace with the most amount of diamonds you’d ever seen, saying he’d offer you anything you liked if you agreed to be his Valentine. You had to hold yourself back from rolling your eyes, the necklace barely managing to snap your attention back to them as your eyes instead wandered to the end of the hall where you saw another Slytherin sitting on the ledge of a window with his nose in a book. 

You could still remember back when that was you sitting alone somewhere in the castle in your first year, everyone passing you by like you didn’t exist, your own nose shoved in the tenth book you’d been reading that week. Of course, that part never changed, you were a proud bookworm, one who’d much rather spend the evening diving into the pages of a good book than surrounded by people gawking at you. The only difference now was it was much harder to find a place where you’d be uninterrupted, but you always found a way, a small corner in this giant castle to call your own and escape the real world if not for a short moment. 

“Sorry, but I can’t be any of your Valentines.” You spewed a quick apology to the Slytherin’s and pushed passed them, only to watch the boy you’d been intrigued by slam his book shut and dramatically swift away down the stairs. 

He’d seen enough, the necklace turning his stomach into knots as he thought about the stupid bet they made before walking over to you, how they each thought they could buy you over with some luxury he could never afford to have. They didn’t even acknowledge his presence as they spoke, didn’t even bother to notice he’d hung back, that he stood by to watch them get rejected by the person who’d been known to reject everyone since first year. You seemed so kind and of course, it probably helped that you were a Hufflepuff, helped your ruse of being everyone’s friend, but he saw through you. He was the only one that did just as he was the only one to see through Potter. Everyone who was popular with the entire school had a dark side, he knew it, even if he hadn’t seen yours. 

“Severus!” He turned around in surprise as he heard his name called out, unable to recognize the voice. His expression immediately turned sour when he realized it was you who’d run after him, calling his name to get his attention. He turned around and began walking away, one hand holding his books tightly as the other formed a tight fist. “Severus, wait!”

You were almost surprised to see someone so bluntly ignore you, shun you like you were nothing and you knew it was an act of dislike towards you, the way he looked at you making it very clear he did not want to speak with you. Yet you couldn’t help but yearn over him all the more. The only person in the entire school that seemed to see you as just another student, the only person who didn’t look at you like you’d blessed the very ground you walked on and he wouldn’t even give you a moment to speak.

“Severus,” you tried again, finally catching up to him as you placed your hand over his shoulder, Severus nearly twisting your wrist as he spun around, acting like your hand had burned the spot where you’d touched him. “I was just wondering, if you’d perhaps like to go out sometime?”

“What?” Severus rose his brow, wondering if he’d heard you correctly. It almost sounded as if you were asking him out, you, the person everyone in his life compared to perfection, the beauty of an angel, kindness comparable to no one else’s. You who’d chatted with the entire school, made friends with everyone, enemies with no one, would choose him?

“It-it doesn’t have to be a date if you don’t want it to be. But I just thought, well I thought it would be nice to have a chat with you some time,” you said, feeling the heat rise to your face as you tried to ease the tension. Severus' expression only darkened with annoyance as his suspicion of you grew. 

“Did Avery put you up to this? Nott? Or Potter?” he blurted out. He couldn’t believe you thought he’d fall for such an obvious ruse. That he’d be desperate enough to accept your deceptive invitation, and when he found out who it was that plotted this interaction, he was going to make sure they never tried something like this again.

“N-no! Why would you say that?” You looked at him with shock, your heart sinking as you felt yourself nearly knock yourself over as you hit that defensive wall he had built around himself. You knew he wasn’t exactly liked by the other students, that he had a much tougher time than he deserved, but you’d never imagined him reacting like this when you finally built up the courage to ask him out. 

“I’m not falling for this,” Severus shook his head as he dismissed your advancements. He turned around and resumed walking down the stairs, leaving you to your own failure though he wasn’t surprised to see you running after him.

“Severus wait!”

“Tell whoever sent you to piss off!” He brushed you off without stopping. Reaching the ground floor, he continued to walk towards the Entrance Hall without so much as glancing your way.

“Severus no one sent me, I swear,” you tried to make him see reason, to show him you were being genuine, but as he spun back around, his hair turning dramatically with him as his strands quickly settled back into place, framing the annoyed look on his face, you could tell he wasn’t willing to let his guard down for even a moment and consider your intentions to be pure. 

“Really? Then why?” His words came out more as demands rather than a question, but you wouldn’t let it scare you away. You didn’t want to give up the one chance you had at a genuine relationship with someone who saw you as more than just a pretty face. 

“Why what?”

“Why in Merlin’s name would you ask me out when you already have the entire school ready to put their heads on the chopping block just for a moment with you?” His tone made you wonder if he was asking the question out of curiosity for your answer or if he’d already made up his mind, that no matter what you said he wouldn’t believe you anyways. You had half a mind to walk away, telling yourself you deserved better, but this was what you wanted wasn’t it? Not to be run after, try to be bought over in some way? You wanted someone to go out with you and love you for who you were, to resist the natural attraction of your Veela DNA.

“Because you’re brilliant and love to read. Because you aren’t like everyone else. Because you make me feel normal.” You poured your heart out to Severus only to have him scoff in your face, rolling his eyes, clearly finding your words less than truthful. You’d never admit it of course, but you did, in a way, lie. You’d admired him for so long now. All you saw was his good sides, but you couldn’t bring yourself to admit such a thing. “Please, Severus, give me a chance.”

Severus stared at you a moment, surprising himself as he actually debated your plea. He wanted nothing more than to believe you, to believe someone would be interested in him in the way you claimed. But it was you. How could he believe the most wanted person in the entire school would choose the most hated? He wanted to get the truth out of you, to embarrass you when you admitted to your real intentions and perhaps that’s exactly what he should do. Perhaps he could get you to blurt out the name of the imbecile that would soon regret trying to mess with him like this.

“Fine. There’s a Hogsmeade trip this weekend. I suppose I can spare a few hours with you.” He agreed to your invitation as he made plans of his own, immediately setting off to the dungeons when you smiled and nodded. You looked almost relieved that he’d finally accepted, almost like you had some other agenda and of course, he’d find out one way or the other. He was tired of the harassment, the humiliation from everyone in this school, tainting it with their insolence and stupidity. This was his home, the one place in the entire world where he could belong, and he wouldn’t let anyone push him around any longer. 

This was the last straw. He was going to make an example out of you and whoever it was pulling your strings. He’d make the entire school regret making him out as a punishing bag, a joke for everyone to laugh at. What more could he lose? His best friend had already abandoned him, his Slytherin peers eager to do the same, only ever defending him out of obligation for their own house. He had no one, nothing to care for except his own reputation. He’d come to Hogwarts wanting to make something of himself, to build himself a future better suited for a Prince than a Snape and that’s what he was going to do one way or the other. 

He made his way to his dorm first, retrieving the stash of potion ingredients he hid under his bed and cross referenced what he needed from the notes he’d taken in the back of his Advanced Potion Making textbook. He had nearly everything he needed, but he knew he could get the rest from the potion’s cupboard before Potion’s class today. It would take some time to brew and he’d probably have to stay up tonight, but he knew he could finish it just in time for his ‘date’ with you. 

 You’d spent all week excited for the weekend. Every day you woke up with a smile until finally the day of the Hogsmeade trip arrived. You were the first to wake, preparing for the day as your nerves grew, your friends questioning why you seemed so happy all of a sudden, but you brushed them all off. You didn’t want anything to ruin this day, knowing they’d laugh if you told them you were going out with Severus. You just wanted to enjoy your date, to be left alone and show Severus there was someone in this school who would love nothing more than to spend every second of the day with him. 

Naturally you’d show up early and of course you were prepared. You sat at a nearby bench with your nose in a book as you usually were when you were alone and despite the crowd that grew with every second that past, Severus had no trouble finding you, rather surprised you weren’t surrounded by people all laughing, waiting to see what would come of your plan to humiliate him today. You were reading Magical Theory, one of the most boring books he’d found in all of Hogwarts’ library, yet there you were, enticed by every word, flipping the pages like you couldn’t go another second without reading. 

“H-hello,” he said, startling you as you shot your attention up from your book to him. He felt his heart racing, his nerves escalating like this was a real date. But it wasn’t, it couldn’t be. He was here for one reason and one reason only; the truth. He shouldn’t be feeling guilty for something he had yet to do, but he did. A sliver of him didn’t want to hurt you, instead hoping that this was real, that you were here because you were genuinely interested in him, but he knew better. How could someone as popular, as liked and as beautiful as you be interested in him?

“Severus, I’m glad you showed.” You gave him the widest smile he’d ever seen anyone give him as you closed your book and stood up.

“I said I would didn’t I?” Severus rose a brow at you, taken back by the enthusiasm in your tone. 

“Yes, but you seemed reluctant the other day.” Truth be told, you half expected to spend the day alone in absolute despair trying to distract yourself in that book as you pretended like you weren’t hurt from being stood up. But he came and he seemed much less defensive than before. 

“Shall we?” He gestured to the group of students making their way down to Hogsmeade. You nodded your head and happily joined him as you walked side by side amongst the crowd. Severus was already suspicious of you and your intentions knowing if he was alone, he would have been called ‘Snivellus’ at least once by now. He felt shielded around you, like no one could touch him and for a moment, he was relieved to feel normal for once. 

“I loved your presentation in Defense last week,” you commented, hoping some light conversation would help ease the mood before you found a place to settle for the day. Severus glared at you in surprise, wondering if you were trying to butter him up or if you had actually paid attention during class unlike the rest of his useless classmates.

“Really? What did you like about it?” Severus questioned your honesty, wondering if he could catch you in a lie before your ‘date’ even started.

“I love how in-depth your research was on cursed objects and your theory of their origin was intriguing,” you said with a smile, holding back your enthusiasm in fear of scaring him away. But you couldn’t help it, you admired Severus and how brilliant he was. You felt the heat rise to your face as you thought about the first time you saw him with his nose in a book, the first time you’d ever found yourself pulled away from your own book. “I noticed you like to hang around the Defense section of the library, is it your favourite subject?”

“You’ve been spying on me?” Your question had the opposite effect that you wanted as you saw his wall rebuild itself around him thicker than before. But you’d never give up knocking and asking him to let you in, to give you a chance and show him he could trust you. 

“N-no, I like to hide in the library at times and I just noticed you were a regular as well,” you said, but you could tell Severus wasn’t convinced. He could almost see the crack in your claims, trying to cover them with some made up weak lie. 

“Why have I never seen you in the library?” The interrogation continued, Severus seeing his victory in his line of sight. He had you cornered and was ready to end the day now when you admitted your true intentions. A smirk began to grow on his face as he thought of the victory at the end of his fingertips. He could almost see the horrific look on the face of whoever is to blame for this day. 

“Pince lets me sit on the second floor overlooking the library, it’s only meant for staff, but she noticed my inability to have a moment to myself and rescued me one day from another mob of people looking to make conversation with me.” 

“That’s kind of her,” he said, gritting his teeth as you slipped away from him, freeing yourself from his near grasp. His lips stretched into a frown as his revenge faded away. The longer he spoke with you the more his hope that this was real grew. You surprised him with your lack of self-absorbent qualities and your interest in what the Hogwarts library had to offer. He never imagined having so much in common with someone with your popularity, always assuming you’d be a lot more like Potter than himself. 

He looked over at you as you nodded, your smile enriching the twinkle in your eye as you gleamed at him with joy. You were so happy to speak with him, to have a casual and light conversation, to share things with him you’d never shared with anyone before. It felt good to open up a bit, to show that other side of you that stayed hidden away when you spoke to your friends or classmates. It was almost freeing, and you only hoped with time, Severus could feel the same with you.

“So, where should we go?” You asked, unsure of what his favourite places at Hogsmeade was. He didn’t seem the type to enjoy a trip to Honeydukes and you knew he didn’t have enough money for the bookstore. 

“We could grab a table at The Three Broomsticks?” Severus suggested as he gestured towards the pub. You nodded your head and made your way over, opening the door and began to make your way to the first empty table you saw. You smiled when Severus pulled on your arm and pointed to the booth in the back instead. He was always such a loner, though you couldn’t help but wonder if he preferred the seclusion now because he didn’t want to be seen with you. You wouldn’t blame him for being skeptical and you were thankful he was giving you a chance, but trust was so important in a relationship and you didn’t want to start it off with an inability to trust one another. 

“Go ahead, I’ll grab us some drinks.” You nodded and made your way to the booth, making yourself comfortable as Severus walked over to the bar. As you slide to the middle of the booth, you began to appreciate Severus' choice in seating, realizing how well hidden you were from everyone, not wanting your day interrupted by someone who thought Severus had kidnapped you and forced you into a date because they thought someone like you shouldn’t be out with someone like him. 

Severus didn’t take long to bring you your drinks, setting them down before shuffling into the booth beside you, grabbing his drink and taking a few gulps. His nerves had finally settled in and he almost wished he’d ordered something stronger for himself. The moment of truth had nearly come and at any moment now he’d get what he came here for, but he was afraid. He feared what the truth may bring him, that if by some small chance you were being honest before, he was about to ruin a love that could have been.

“Thank you,” you said as you reached for your own drink and took a sip. “Not just for the drink, but for giving me a chance as well.”

Severus gulped down the guilt that grew in his chest. There was no going back now. He had to find out the truth, even if you seemed genuine with your feelings towards him. “I was curious to know why you’d want to go out with me.”

He dipped his toes in the water as you both continued to enjoy your drinks and as he hoped, you began to open up to him, though perhaps not in the way he would have thought. “I’ve admired you for quite some time and have been trying to build up the courage to talk to you for a while.”

You put your drink down in shock by your sudden outburst of words. You hadn’t meant to say all that, even if it was on the tip of your tongue. Furrowing your brows, you pressed your lips together, unsure of how you’d lost control so suddenly. You felt like someone was pulling your strings, like they had slapped you on the back so hard, the words just flew out of your mouth. “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to say all that.”

Severus narrowed his eyes at you, doubting his own abilities and wondered how this could possibly be. He was so sure this was a trick, that you were being deceitful, put up by someone else to embarrass him, but your truth was far from what he was expecting. You were real, you were interested in him, and he’d made a terrible mistake. “S-so no one put you up to asking me out?”

“No of course not. You’re the only person I’ve ever met I felt like I could truly fall in lo-” You clapped your hands over your mouth before you could say anymore. Your eyes widened as you bit down on your tongue, muffling the words you could not believe were about to be heard by him. You looked at him in fear, feeling completely helpless. Your freewill had been stripped away from you and you found yourself unable to control what came out of your mouth. “W-what’s going on?!”

“I-I’m so sorry (Y/N). This was not how I imagined things would go,” he said, his sympathetic tone making it harder for you to stay calm as your heart pounded angrily against your chest. Every fiber in your body told you something was wrong, that you should run, but you couldn’t, you didn’t want to. You’d waited so long to be here, to be in this moment alone with Severus, you didn’t want it ruined.

“What are you talking about?” You let yourself speak just enough to ask for clarification, to give Severus the chance to explain himself, to give you the explanation you needed to stay here with him. 

“I-I slipped Veritaserum into your drink. I thought I could get you to admit this was a trick. I didn’t expect this. I’m so sorry.” You looked at him with absolute horror, your heart breaking into a million pieces as his betrayal sunk in. He’d manipulated you, used you like a puppet when you’d done nothing but open yourself up to him. You’d trusted him like you’d done with no one before, and he tossed that away like it meant nothing. Your eyes swelled with tears, unable to look at him any longer. Your legs immediately swept you from your seat as you glued your mouth shut, trying to escape the prison Severus had trapped you in

“(Y/N) wait!” Severus cried after you in desperation, unable to believe how he’d messed up something he could only dream of having. You were an angel that anyone would have felt lucky to be with and he was the demon you’d chose instead. The demon who’d scared you away from love, from happiness, from a good and honest relationship. He tried to grab your wrist, but his hand failed to hold onto you as your skin, your oh so perfect skin grazed his fingertips. You ran out the door with tears dripping down your face and a hand over your mouth, leaving him deserted. His eyes followed you until you were no longer within his line of sight, running to get as far away from the monster who’d broken your trust, your faith in him. 

Slumping back in his seat, he stared blankly at his hands, the hands that had spent all week brewing a potion that was meant to bring him peace, a sense of power and control over his own life, yet it brought him nothing but an empty heart and crushed aspirations. Your words rang in his ears, the kind tone you took with him, the loving look you gave him all sinking in much differently now that he knew for certain they were real. He looked up at the drink that had ruined his second chance, the chance at a happy life, a life where he no longer had to be alone and swung his arm at it in anger.

The pub fell silent as glass shattered, the drink spilling all over the floor as Severus pushed himself up and began storming out the door, ignoring the calls of the angry bartender who stood over the mess he’d made. Severus ran in the same direction he’d seen you head, but found no sight of you. He had no idea what he’d say or why he so suddenly ran after you without thinking. He just knew he had to find you. He couldn’t give up on the miracle he’d been asking for all his life, someone who truly cared for him, who liked him for who he was and could look past his flaws.  

He looked around and found himself in a lost haze, unsure of what to do next. You were gone, vanished like a figment of his imagination and he was left here to wonder how he’d managed to get so lucky to have the one person the entire school was after fall for him. He looked back at the road back to Hogwarts before he found his legs suddenly jolting him forward as if his body knew exactly where to go. He couldn’t understand what was happening, how he felt like he had no control over himself. His mind was cycling as it tried to comprehend what was happening, how he could be driven on nothing but emotions, his feelings for you pushing him to run as fast as he could back to the castle and up those flights of stairs. 

By the time he got to his destination, his hair was sticking to the sides of his face, his lungs gasping for air as he felt his entire body heat up. His heart pounded angrily against his chest, shouting at him to keep going, that he wasn’t done until he’d found you, but he’d never run so much in his life, never felt so unable to breath, even after the massive panic attrack he had the night after the Whomping Willow incident. 

Looking around the library, he found his way to the door he knew only staff were allowed to open. His hand bolted for the doorknob, tugging on it to find it locked. Pulling out his wand, he tried to unlock it with no luck. His fists pounded on the door in frustration, he needed to get in there, he knew you were in there, he could feel it. You’d trusted him enough to tell him about this place and as much as he was aware you didn’t want to see him, he needed to see you. “(Y/N)! (Y/N)! Please open the door! I’m sorry! I didn’t mean for this to happen. I didn’t think- I didn’t know!”

Severus hung his head low as he pressed himself to the door. This was as close to you as he knew he’d ever get again. He’d ruined any chance of a relationship with you and you were right to hide away from him. He was destructive, ruining anything he touched, anyone who spoke with him or dare come near him and perhaps that was why Potter felt the need to hex and curse him every time they saw one another. He couldn’t let it go on, he had to try and mend things, if not to at least make up for what he’d done.

“Please, at least let me undo what I’ve done. I can cure you and if you don’t want to hear what I have to say then I’ll leave. But please let me fix this.” Severus shut his eyes, tears threatening to fall as his forehead met the door. He stood there in silence, wondering if he’d hurt you so bad you’d abandoned the one place you felt safe in this school, if he’d done to you what Potter had to him. He’d become what he hated and was about ready to retreat to his dorm when he heard the doorknob turning, the door slowly opening as he took a step back, his eyes wide as he wiped away the tears that rolled down his cheeks. 

Your eyes met his and you felt your disappointment melt into anger. Your jaw hardened as you locked your teeth together, doing everything you could to keep from speaking another word to Severus. You watched him snap out of your gaze and begin to fumble with his robes, pulling out a small stone and presenting it to you. You stared down at it confused, wondering what kind of apology this was meant to be. 

“It’s a bezoar. I know it’s not the most comfortable solution, but it’s all I have,” Severus offered it to you, hoping you’d take it, that he could try and regain your trust once again. He held out hope as he watched your posture relax the slightest bit, your hand hesitantly reaching for the stone. He wouldn’t dare speak a word or move a muscle until you indicated what it was you wished of him next. From this moment forward, he would do nothing you didn’t ask for, say nothing you didn’t demand. 

Tossing the stone into your mouth, you swallowed hard and groaned at the feeling of its rough texture travelling down your throat. You heaved for air, but for the first time since you ran out of The Three Broomsticks, you found yourself able to relax your jaw, your fear of spilling your guts disappearing. Straightening your back, you looked at Severus who seemed unable to move or breath, waiting for your command to do so as his wide eyes stared desperately into yours. You’d never felt so conflicted, your feelings for him clouding your instinct to slap him for what he’d done to you. You never felt so humiliated, so used in your life. Severus had gone from the person who’d treated you like a normal human being to the one person in your life who’d hurt you worse than you ever thought you could be hurt. But you still couldn’t find it in you to shove him away and lock him out of your life. So instead, you closed the door behind you and stood your ground with your arms crossed, waiting for Severus to explain himself. 

“I-I’m so sorry.” He nearly choked on his words as they came out when he saw the look on your face, the frown you wore. No word would ever be large enough to truly depict how he felt right now and as much as he wanted to say more, all he could do was apologize.

“You already said that,” you mumbled in a whisper, speaking against your own trauma from the truth serum that Severus had given you. He looked so sincere, so desperate for your forgiveness. You’d never seen him like this before, clawing at someone else for something only they could give. He’d always been such a strong person even if others would disagree. He wasn’t presumptuous as he was proud of himself and his achievements, but the person who stood before you now had no pride left to show. He had nothing but regret and torment in his eyes.

“And I can never say it enough. I should never have put that potion in your drink and I wish I could take it back. I didn’t think you were being genuine. I was so sure you were lying to me.” He spoke honestly, hoping you’d have faith he was being truthful with every word he spoke, that you could at least put the trust in him he failed to put in you. 

“Why?” You couldn’t let go of the sheer stupidity of what he’d done. His reasoning didn’t make the slightest bit of sense to you, and if you could understand why he did it, maybe you could begin to forgive him.

“Why? Because you’re you and I’m me and why would I ever believe you of all people would be interested in me?” Severus went on as if the question was an absurd one to ask, the answer so obvious, even a house elf could see it. He wondered how you couldn’t see his hesitation, why you’d ever think he’d simply accept the fact you were interested in him.

“Because I said that I did!” you said bluntly, rather offended he questioned your intentions at all. Never had anyone second guessed you to this extreme before and you didn’t appreciate it in the slightest.

“I know, I just-”

“Didn’t trust my word?” You looked completely heart broken, more so then when you realized he’d slipped truth serum into your drink. He could see trust was something you cherished between those you let close to you and he’d completely ruined his chance at gaining it from you.

“No, I didn’t. I couldn’t. Not after the way the school decided to brand me all those years ago.” Severus had no hope of convincing you what he did was justifiable because even he knew it wasn’t. All he could hope for was for you to understand his hesitation, to understand why he had to do something when you approached him to see if you were genuine in your intentions.

“I’ve never treated you that way,” you retorted.

“I know. I’m sorry and I’ll understand if you’ll never want to speak with me again.” He put the ball in your court, completely at your mercy. Whatever it was you decided to do, he would respect it, but every inch of him begged you to give him another chance, to let him have a proper opportunity to have someone in his life that would care for him, to have a happy ending. But as Severus stared into your blank eyes, he could tell he hadn’t swayed you in any way. It was his fault and as he had nothing more to say, all he could do was turn around to walk away from everything that could have been.

“That’s it?” Severus stopped as you called after him, turning around in surprise as he stared at you blankly. 

“What do you mean?”

“I mean, you’re just going to walk away? You’re not going to try and fight? For-for this?” You gestured between yourselves with a sliver of hope in your eyes. You knew you shouldn’t have expected much from him, but a part of you hoped he’d be a little more resilient to giving up on you, especially after all that time you’d spent admiring him from afar. 

“I-I didn’t think there was anything to fight for,” he said truthfully, looking at you with wide eyes as he walked back to you. He stared at you intently, trying to read you, to figure you out with all these mysteries surrounding you. How could someone so beautiful fall for him, want to be with him enough you’d be willing to give him a chance at redemption when his own best friend wouldn’t give him such a thing?

You took a step forward, wanting so badly to have all those talks with him you’d dreamed of having, to enjoy spending time with him if not to simply read together and find comfort in each other's company. You wanted to go back and give him a chance to redo the evening, to have it end much differently than yours and if it were anyone else, you would never have given him the chance to explain himself. But it wasn’t someone else, it was him. It was the one person in this whole world who you thought could break your curse, who seemed immune to it.

“Severus, why don’t you treat me like everyone else in this school?”

Severus stood in silence a moment as he thought back to how easily everyone worshipped the ground you walked on, how you always seemed to have a trail of people behind you, admiring you for no reason other than your looks. His thoughts wandered to Lily and how Potter seemed just as enchanted with her as the rest of the school did to you, how he’d only become intrigued with Lily after finding out she was a kind witch who lived in Cokeworth.

“I just-I suppose I just never thought of you in that way because I didn’t know you, and I never thought you’d be interested in knowing me.” Severus tried to be as honest as he could, watching you with hope. He held onto the fact you hadn’t run away, that you’d given him the chance to speak, to hear him and understand him. You were so kind, nothing like he would have ever imagined and he knew if he was ever so lucky as to get a second chance with you, he would never take it for granted again.

“Well, I am,” you said with a smile. You’d always been rather talented at reading people after the absurdity you’d seen from others, and Severus had truly wanted to make amends. You prayed your faith in him wasn’t misplaced, that he meant every word he said and that he saw what you saw. “If you are.”

“I am.” The words flew out of his mouth faster than he could process. He jumped at the chance you offered, beyond excited for the happy life he saw ahead of him. “Would you perhaps like to try again?” 

You nodded your head eagerly, excited for your do-over date. You almost wanted to forget what had happened today, to approach things with him from a fresh perspective. “Valentine’s day is coming up. Would you care to share a cup of tea with me at Madam Puddifoot’s tea shop?”

“Really?” Severus couldn’t believe how kind hearted you were, how willing you were to see the good in others and how tremendously lucky he was to have found you, or more accurately, have you find him. 

“So long as I’m buying this time,” you nodded with a laugh, eliciting a smile from Severus as you began making your way out of the library. You smiled as you finally got to see the real him, the person you grew infatuated with, the boy who you saw hope for love with. For the first time in your life, you felt content, excited for the spark you felt growing inside your heart. You could experience love for the first time in your life, real, pure love and you couldn’t wait to see what more it had in store for you.

[raebayhc]

Girls Night Out

PART TWO!!!

warnings: smut, oral sex (f), fingering, public sex acts, car sex, use of alcohol, manipulation

word count: 2070

summary: you along with your groups of friends decide to have a girls' night for the first time in a while, things get heated and your friends end up taking turns using your body.

series: part 1 (more parts to come)

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Finally making your way through the crowd you make it back to the group of girls who had already begun to drink. Mikasa’s hand finds purchase on your waist as she pulls you closer to hand you a drink “it’s fruity, you’ll like it” Mikasa knew you weren’t a heavy drinker but when you did drink you preferred fruitier things, you giggled at the thought of her ordering something so girly with the sole intent on giving it to you. You happily took the drink from her hand giving her a warm smile, taking a sip she watches your reaction as your face lights up “holy shit mik- this is awesome” she takes a sip of her rich colored drink “let me taste” you obliged as you held your glass up for her, she goes to hand you her drink but you decline “no thanks, that stuff tastes like rat poison.. I’m better off with my drink from paradise” you laugh, she lets out a small chuckle at your cuteness “just try it y/n I promise it’s not that bad”.. “Ughhhhhh fiiiiiine only because it’s you mik” you reply hesitantly. You both lift your drinks to the mouth of the other, not breaking eye contact you take a sip, and as does she, almost as if it was planned yall both swallow squint grunt then let out a small cough a visual representation of how yall felt about each other’s drinks “how do you drink this shit?? Bleh” Mikasa spits out “it’s better than the jet fuel you have in this glass” you shiver out.

The night goes on and all of the ladies are around the bar talking, yall somehow landed on your childhood and how yall used to run around outside all day and play in the woods behind your neighborhood. Mikasa continues to tell the story of how yall have matching scars on the same place at the top of your inner thigh from when yall collided bikes one time as if she needed proof she lifted your skirt to look at the scar, a reminder maybe, “see! Told yall it really happened and I have the same exact one too!” she lets your skirt back down and the girls disperse throughout the building, some dancing, some talking to guys for potential hookups. You and mik still at the bar talking. She cuts your sentence short “wait actually let me see your scar again I think it shrunk” without getting confirmation from you she lifts your skirt and underestimating the length it would take for her to reach the scar she overshot and instead of rubbing the scar she rubs the thigh right against one of your folds, a small whimper falls out of your throat, you didn’t mean to let it out it just kind of happened. Your stomach drops, her eyes dart up to your face, a deep blush forming that you can’t control. She cocks an eyebrow at you and slowly begins to move her hand up closer and closer to your sex, your grip on the bar counter becoming tighter “mik what the fuck are you doing” you spit out through gritted teeth. “I haven’t stopped thinking about earlier… yah know when we basically kissed in the theatre, I haven’t gotten you out of my mind since.” her words lit a flame in you, not only because of how seductive they were but because you were definitely attracted to her, you always have been but you would never dare to speak on it.

“I’ve kept this to myself for far too long don’t you think?” she asks, not able to push out any words fearing you would instead release a moan you nod, your eyebrows scrunched on your forehead, your bottom lip tucked between your teeth, eyes glossy, nipples erect and visible through your thin shirt….. She couldn’t help herself. Slipping a finger into your underwear she groans at how wet you already are “all this… for me baby?” she purrs into your ear. “Mik…. we’re at a bar, there are people everywhere… please..” you whine out, she replies with a simple “trust me”, grabbing your jaw and forcing you to face her she grabs her drink opens your mouth and pours it in “spit it out or swallow it and you’ll regret it” you wince and nod your head obediently “good girl” she purrs.

Now basically crumbling under her touch your thighs are shaky, breathing erratic as you can only breath through your nose due to the rich liquid sheltered in your mouth. She positions her fingers to shape a gun, she then points her ‘hand gun’ at you and ‘pulls the trigger’ taking that same position she pushes into you, knowing you would react to this she lets out a loud cough to cover your moan, thank goodness she did. You’re vocal she likes that. Now pushing in and out of you she takes her left hand and grabs your neck then pulls you to kiss, her tongue prodding at your lips signaling you to open for her, the deep liquid flows into her mouth dripping down your chins, she swallows the liquid but remains in contact with your face against her occasionally biting or sucking on your lip. You knew there were definitely going to be marks later but you didn’t care, this was pure bliss and just the thought of Mikasa getting aroused by this was enough to send you over the edge, your vision gone blurry, your body shaking, reaching your climax. You droop your head down breathing heavy, worried she had crossed a line Mikasa lifted your head only to see a blissful fucked out expression, eyes hazy, drool falling down your chin, your mouth in a slight smirk, tears threatening to fall. “Oh, shit” she mumbles now fully aware of the effect you have on her.

Removing her fingers from under your skirt she dips her fingers in your drinks and encourages you to take them in your mouth which you do without a fight, a low groan escapes your lips as you taste the sweet and salty mixture of your juices, her sweat, and your ‘drink from paradise’ on her digits. Pulling her fingers out with a loud ‘pop’ she pulls a napkin from under her drink and wipes them off. Still recovering from the previous climax you sit there catching your breath, Mikasa’s hand finds its way to the small of your back, she leans into your neck giving you small pecks then comes up to your ear and nibbles on it a bit “.... y’know… there’s so much more I want to do to you.. Bee.” your skin shivers at the name she had given you when yall were in the sixth grade after you got chased by a bee into a creek, you hadn’t heard it in years… she really was something.

You only had one drink so you were nowhere near tipsy, sober as can be….. Unfortunately that cant be said for some of the other ladies. Ymir, Sasha, and Hitch were all out of it fortunately enough you, mikasa, and historia were all sober so yall could drive, you decide to take responsibility for hitch and drive her to the barn. You put her arm around your shoulder “shit. Why the fuck are you so heavy hitch, youre tiny” you spit out struggling to support her weight on you as you walk her to the car “h- hey-*hiccup* hey. Im not heavy I just had done a cartwheel sometimes earlier when she asked me to”. Yup. she’s out of if you think, you’re on the road and on the way to Sasha’s family barn when hitch yells at you to pull into an empty parking lot so she can get air a possibly throw up. Y’know the basic drunk shenanigans. You pull over to what seems to be a deserted parking lot with a raccoon and some dead bushes “okay hitch hurry up” “yeah yeah I’m going I’m going” she seems to have sobered up a bit.. *click* the passenger door opens and the car lights come on “hurry up they’re wai-” you’re cut off by the image in front of you. Wearing nothing but her underwear hitch had removed all of her clothing including her bra revealing her numerous piercings including a belly button and nipple piercings, not only that but she had one hand down her panties moving around doing what you assume is masturbating and her other hand squeezing her nipple “mmph please..please.. Help me will you pretty girl?” butterflies filled your stomach “what’re you-”

Hitch climbs halfway in with her hand on the middle console and one of her knees on the passenger seat, grabbing the collar of your shirt she pulls you in for a sloppy kiss, your grip on the wheel loosens as you lose yourself in the kiss, not only that but you notice she doesn’t taste of alcohol, not even the slightest bit. In fact, you remember about a month ago when she said she was gonna stop drinking and when yall were in the club you only saw her with cans of soda when you did happen to catch a peek of her.. Was she- “faking?” your thoughts cut off by her sudden comment “you know you’re really easy to read y/n, I can tell what’s going on in that pretty little brain of yours honey.” “so were you? Faking I mean.” you say in a confused tone as if you were trying to piece it all together yourself “yeahhhhh sorry but I had to get you alone somehow, don’t think I didn’t notice how Mikasa and historia were all over you tonight, it wasn’t rocket science to figure out they probably fucked you..and to be honest I’ve thought about us together. So please… have me?” she takes your hand and shoves it down her panties, black and lacey, you retract your hand and look at her without saying anything. Worried she might have done something wrong she begins “oh my god I got the wrong idea y/n I’m so so sor-” “get in the back” you cut her off.

Climbing in the back she waits on instructions from you, you join her in the back. You position yourself on top of her laying her head on the back door, you scan over her helpless body so small and fragile under your touch, starting by kissing her breasts leaving marks on the sides of them you move down to her torso. Giving sweet and soft kisses occasionally leaving a hickey or two, you make it down to her covered pussy, kissing above the lacey garment you tease her. “Please y/n please please please I can’t” she begs “I got it I got it” you pull her underwear to the side she releases a sigh of relief not long after followed a scream of pleasure as you plunge your face into her sex, lapping up whatever juices are flowing and gently sucking on the bundle of nerves at the top. “N-not so.. fast y/n... I won’t… I won’t last!!” she manages out through broken whimpers and cries, which only encourages you to break her even more, make her cry out an orgasm, make her the best little pet you could ask for. You stick a ring and middle finger inside of her while your mouth focuses on her clit, not that pushes her over the edge. Her mind blanks and all she can see is white, you speed up to enhance her orgasm, you’re then met with the strong bursts of fluid that fall from her. “She’s a squirter huh” you think to yourself hungrily lapping up as many juices as possible, “mmhmm y/n y/n y/n ahh please you’re so-” her body twitches “you’re so amazing mmm”. You remove your fingers and place her panties back where they belong, sitting up adoring her aroused figure you spit out “you think you’d top me huh?” followed by a cheeky grin and a condescending giggle.

The car lights up and a ring echoes “Ymir” flashes on the dashboard “incoming call”...

THE EEENNNDDD pt.2

AHHHHHH IM SO OVERWHELMED BY THE POSITIVITY AND LOVELY FEEDBACK I LOVE YALL AWHHHH!!! I will continue to write and upload for this series!! Thank you for the patience *muah*

[simpingfortheages]

//YOU WANT SOMEWHERE TO SIT?//

Ms Venable x Fem Reader

(SMUT PACKED! CANING, DEGRADING,THIGH RIDING, EDGING, MANIPULATION, PRAISE)

Gallant and the reader seem too close to each other for Me Venable's liking. Something ignites in Ms Venable and she doesn't like it . Not. One. Bit.

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Outpost 3 was a prison. It was the same damn routine everyday- wake up, get dressed,go to lunch and then join everyone in the common room. It's sickening but bareable. It's bareable only because of Gallant. Over the past 2 years we have become quite close to each other, if someone didn't know that Gallant was gay and I was a full blown lesbian . One would swear we were a couple.

Everyone was all currently gathering in the common room, either ready to read a book or simply gossip about the secret affair that has been taking place being the back of Ms Venable between the two greys. What did you expect? There's not much to do in this hellhole anyway . As I made my way towards the common room, I spotted Gallant, who was currently sitting on the couch talking to Coco about the next style he would like to try on her hair. I sauntered my way over and took a sat right in his lap, his hands automatically wrapping around my waist,not bothering to stop his conversation with Coco as my arm nestled upon the back of his shoulders. I unknowingly brought my hand up and played with Gallant's hair while I daydreamed about the leader of Outpost 3. Ms Venable. The intimidating, prestine,squared shoulders leader. She really is a sight for sore eyes, the way she carries herself is quite attractive. From her perfectly painted dark lips to the shape of her sharp eyebrows. The click of her cane the against the concrete floor doesn't fail to have a cold tingle run up my spine. Yes she scares me,I gay panic around her all the time that's why you would never catch me breaking her rules. Lost in my dazed state I failed to hear the click of her cane as she entered the dimly lit common room. "Ms Y/L/N, do you not know where the seats are located?" She seethed between her teeth. Out of shock I snapped out of my daydream and quirked an eyebrow in her direction, " I'm sorry What?" I asked. " I am sorry what Ms Venable" she corrected me with annoyance dripping in her voice. "Why are you sitting on Mr Gallant' s lap? Can't a daft moron such as yourself see that there are multiple areas elsewhere?" Ms Venable snapped. Her response stirred something inside if me. I didn't realise but I scoffed outloud at her question. " Ms Venable I don't see why it's such a problem I'm not breaking your rules. I am in the outpost, I referred to you as Ms Venable and Gallant's dick isn't inside me for us to make a baby." I snarled,not before mumbling silently ," not that I would want that anyway..."

Me Venable's hand tighten the grip she had atop her cane. I am pretty sure they were digging into her the skin of her palm ,leaving indents. Her chest rose with anger and the slight flare of her nostrils didn't go missed as well. Without hesitation she said 2 words, " bring her". I went without a fight as the Iron fist dragged me from Gallant's lap. Everyone was arguing and yelling, but no one dared to pull me from the Iron Fist's hands. That was a no no. It would result to them getting the same punishment as me. I couldn't help but whince at the thought of getting whipped I've seen the aftermath from Gallant's back. It was gruesome ,they took aleast 2 months to fully heal, but of course he still had the scars. I wasn't going to cry and give her the satisfaction of knowing how much she scared me. She was a sadist. An evil yet hot sadist,either way what she was doing is wrong. While being dragged, Ms Venable stopped and whispered some thing in the Iron Fist's ears to which the fist only grunted in reply. There was confusion painted on my face as we began to pass the Outpost's turn to head into the basement. Where was she taking me? Am I getting thrown out, all for sitting on Gallant's lap?? Fuck! Fuck! I closed my eyes tight in hopes that I passed out before they could do my anything . The only thing I felt was me and my dress being dragged across the dingy floor of the outpost. After a few minutes of being pulled by the Iron fist. I heard the opening of a wooden door,before I could register what was going on. I was roughly thrown against the ground. The adrenaline that was coarsing through my veins , numbed my fall. The door was slammed closed and locked???, she locked the door? Why'd she do that ?...momentarily I was lulled into a false sense of safety and lonliness, that was until I heard the click of her cane again. I struggled to get onto my feet since the wind was also knocked out of me. Ms Venable was making her way to sit behind her large oak wooden desk. I paid attention to my surroundings as i stood up...the realisation dawned on me . I was in her chamber, which was the furthest room for the common room. She could shoot me and the thick stones and great distance will also cover the sound. I was so fucked. There I was standing, infront Ms Venable,trying to dust off the dirt that accummulated on my dress.

The sound of my dress crinkling bounced off the concrete walls. Too intimidated to even look at her, when I was done. I just twiddle with my thumbs. Ms Venable peirced the silence in the air, " Come here." She snapped coldly. I swallowed thickly and moved turtle pace towards here. "Hurry up Ms Y/L/N" her voice now filled with impatience. I hastened my steps and stood on the opposite side of her desk. As I looked at her face, there was a scowl that made its way to her plump lips. "Not there. I meant here" she stated. Her sentence was accompanied with the movements of her gloved hands. She was gestering to the floor. I maneuvered my way around her desk and stood before her as she swivels her chair to face me. The distance was miniscule. My ruffled dress was now brushing against the material her clean dress. Ms Venable's growl was low and guteral. "On your knees." She commanded. I was shocked at her words "Excuse me?" I commented. "You heard me" she replied quickly. A nervous chuckle escaped my lips. Out of fear, I submitted I looked away from her gaze and proceeded to get on my knees. As I did so, Ms Venable parted her legs. I couldn't help but blush at the act, this however didn't go unnoticed by her. All for sudden Ms Venable grabbed hold of my wrist, digging her sharp manicured nails into my skin. She managed to rip small whimpered from me. "I know the truth Ms y/l/n . I see the way you react when I enter a room. How hot and bothered you are right now kneeling for me like the filthy slut you are." She stated in raspy voice . Not listening to her words I was consumed with embarrassment. She knows, she knows, she fucking knows! I tried to yank my wrist away from her grasp but her hold was stronger. She sunk her nails further into my skin. "Ahh please Ms Venable." I begged in a pathetic manner. "Hmmm this is new? Where has the big bad attitude gone." Ms Venable said with a smirk tattooed on her face. I stayed silent. "Strip." Was all she said. My eyes opened wide with at her words. Out of reflex I stumbled back murmuring the words no repeatedly. What the hell is happening? I needed to get out. She is insane. What was I thinking? Having a liking to this woman. I made quick notions to shift away from her, only for my actions to be stopped . She was stepping down on the back of my dress with her black boots. "And where do you think you are going?" She questioned in a condescending manner. I opened my mouth to speak but nothing came out. My throat was parched. " your punishment didn't even start." My eyebrows knitted together in fear of what she has planned. I grabbed the back of my dress and yanked on it, freeing it from the soles of her boots. I bolted making my way to the door to escape I don't know where but I wanted to be anywhere. Just anywhere but here. The atmosphere was stifling and heavy, which made the air hard to breathe. " Oh my Ms y/l/n I won't just do that... we wouldn't want to have Mr Gallant's scars renewed. I am sure you remember how long to took for him to recover." My movements were halted,my back was facing her . I slowly released out a very audible shakey breathe. I turned around to look at Ms Venable,only to see her motioning me to come to her with her finger in a beckoning gesture. Unwillingly I made my way back to her,tears pickled in the corner of my eyes. " now strip" she recited once again. I faced the floor as I slowly began to unbutton the top buttons of my dress. "No i want you to look at me while you do it" she demanded. I summoned all the courage I had to meet her piercing brown eyes. She was taking my dignity and she knew it. She enjoyed seeing me crumble .When i was done, I stood in nothing but my underwear. I quickly covered my breast with hands,which Ms Venable didn't like. She yanked my hands away and shamelessly roamed her eyes all over my body.

"Hmmm" was all she said while biting her bottom lip. This felt like forever, like all of time stopped,dragging out this moment. " bend over my desk" Ms Venable said. I didn't even bother to rebel against her anymore. Just get it over with Y/N and I can lock this memory away. I slowly bent myself at the waist and pressed my breast against the cold desk. My hands rested beside my head against the bare desk . I squeezed my eyes closed once more trying to control my breathing. " you will get ten and for each one you will said please again Ms Venable." She said. Ten What??? I thought. Without thinking I nodded my head against the desk in confirmation to whatever she meant, she didn't like my lack of words so she grabbed the sides of my hips ,digging her nails once more into my skin. " Yes yes okay Ms Venable please I will" I cried out. She laughed lowly at my reaction. From the corner of my eyes I saw her grab her cane. "Wha- Ms Venable please that will hurt me, please not that"i pleaded. My cries fell on deaf ears. She didn't care. She flashed a smiled lipped smile at me.

*WHACK* the pain I felt on my rear was immense,my knees almost gave out at the sharp and lasting pain . Yet i managed to spit out the words " again-...ple-se Ms Venable". After 15 minutes of prolonged torture the tenth lash was bestowed upon me. My voice raspy and almost gone from pleading ..." thank you *sniffle*Ms *sniffle* Venable". Suddenly I felt a pair of hands groping my ass, massaging it in a pleasant way. I couldn't help but enjoy the feeling of both the pleasure and pain. My legs twitched at the feeling. " I know you liked it Y/N" she whispered. My breathe hitched at the fact that she used my first name. Ms Venable stood even closer behind me and pressed her entire clothed front fully on my ass. Ms Venable was grinding against me. A mewl escaped my lips at the feeling. " didn't you like it y/n?" She asked. To embarrassed by the truth, I shook my head no. Ms Venable yanked me by my hair causing my back to arch and my neck to tilt backwards. She then leaned over and pressed herself against my back. I could have felt how erect her nipples were through the fabric. She was getting off on this. "Don't you dare lie to me now my little one" she whispered into my ear,as she did so Ms Venable licked a strip up the cartilage of my ear. I shivered at the action. " The slick dripping from between your legs says otherwise."I could hear the smile in her tone. She roughly pushed my head forward causing my head to jerk forward . She returned to her chair and waited until I turned around to face her. "Come here little one" she said again. I began to kneel once more,only for her to say "No I meant here this time" . This time she was referring to her lap. The colour of pink covered my ears and my chest. I was flushed. With maintained intense eye contact Ms Venable rolled up her dress revealing her smooth shaved and toned legs. I could have seen her purple lace underwater peaking right at me, where she stopped her dress. "You want somewhere to sit ? You want to sit on someone's lap little one? Sit on mine." She scowled. With shaking legs I gently straddled her thighs. I hovered over her thighs with my knees holding me up in either side on her lap. Ms Venable found her hands on my hips and pulled my down onto her left thigh. I jumped at the contact. My clit was swollen and throbbing. I was heavily aroused. Out of reflex I tried to move, but Ms Venable didn't allow it. "No no little one" she cooed at me " you're gonna take it." She finished her sentence with a smile. I whimpered and nodded in reply.

The outpost leader began moving my hips against her thighs encouraging me to move. Out of desperation I started to grind against her thighs faster,ready to relieve the ache that she created. "Slow down my little one..." she tightened her hold on my hips making me slow my movements. " Hmmm that's it, ride me baby" my breathing got heavier as did hers. The smell of Ms.Venable' s perfume and my arousal that was currently coating her leg was the only scent that invaded my senses. It was intoxicating. A foreign feeling began to build in my lower stomach,my eyes were struggling to keep open as they were going to roll to the back of my head any moment. My hands held on to her shoulders to stable myself. "Mmm Ms Ven-ohh Ms Venable can hmm I cum?" I struggled to get out . "No" was all she said. " hold on a little longer. I enjoy seeing you like this" . My face twisted in pain and pleasure. The knots in my stomach was tightening, ready to burst at any second. Oh but Ms Venable knew that. She fed off of that. After 3 minutes I begged again,"please please oh fuck Ms Venable please can I??? can I cum for you?". "No you don't have my permission,but you are oh so close aren't you?" She mocked me. I sob in sexual frustration at her mockery. Ms Venable leaned her face closer to my ears and began nibbling at the tip. While her other hand was removed from my hip and found it's place on my erected nipple. She twisted and pulled until I watched against her." Break my rule you little slut. Break this one rule. Cum without My permission"she teased. I shook my head side to side . I was going to be good and show her. Ms Venable admired me for such an act. But she wanted to see me crumble. She removed her hand from my nipple and slowly made her hand reach my clit. Her talent slender finger, slid in between my folds with ease,applying pressure and rubbing me. I couldn't hold it back anymore. I came without her permission. She wanted that. She wanted me to break her rule. I soaked her thigh with my fluids. As i looked down I saw her remove her hand from my clit. I whimpered at the loss of contact. Her hand and my clit were still connected by a string of my arousal. Ms Venable locked eyes with me as she took her 2 fingers and sucked off my cum. I moaned at the sight. She then removed her fingers with a loud pop. After she did so, she took her same wet fingers that were now covered with some of my cum and some of her spit and held them up to my mouth. I parted my lips and I accepted her slender fingers. All the while keeping eye contact.

This was a distraction that she did. While I took her fingers into my mouth. Ms Venable lifted her thigh,pressing my clit directly to her thighs that were covered with my slick. I squealed at the sudden pressure on my already sensitive overestimulated clit. I tried to move away but she tore her fingers away from my mouth and returned her grip on my hips,"that's it baby take it,take your punishment like my good filthy slut" she praised. I nodded in response and proceed to grind against her thighs . It's didn't take me long to get worked up again. She could have seen that i was holding back. Feeling sorry for me this time," Cum all over me baby. I am here" she cooed softly. My back arched against her chest, my sensitive nipples rubbing against the front of her fabric. As i threw my head back, Ms Venables's lips found my neck. She sucked and bit my pulse point. I released and whimpered as i came the second time . She kept marking me as I came down from my high. I then rested my head in the crook of her neck as i tried to regulate my breathing. I almost dozed off if it wasn't for Ms Venable grabbing my face by my jaw. I looked at her with hooded eyes, her face milimeteres away. My lips were slightly parted as the warmth of each of our breathe were felt on our faces. Ms Venable then stuck her long tongue out and slowly licked my lips. I shuddered at the action. As I go to close the gap, the slim finger that was once coated with my arousal was press against my lips.. With confusion etched on my face, Ms Venable opened her lips and spoke," now will you sit on anyone else's lap?" She asked. "No Ms Venable "I replied . She smiled," who you belong too now?" She questioned. "I belong to You Ms Venable" I said with a voice thick with lust and tiredness. " that's my good girl." She praised me once more. Ms Venable then slowly removed her finger and leaned into kiss me. As we both did so, I couldn't help but repeat her words "....your good girl."

[carnationcreation]

Can you do Luke Patterson fanfic where the reader is Alex sister and is in the band who’s been in love with Luke all this time but he never noticed her. And ever since they met Julie she has seen them together has gotten jealous.So she hatches up one finally plan to make him jealous to get him to see her . And Luke realized he had been in love with her and confess to her . Sorry if it’s too much this is my first time asking for a request 🥺

TITLE: Unrequited (Luke Patterson x reader)

✌🏻Masterlist Taglist, Requests, and Works in progress!

Requested: Yes!

Prompt/summary:  Reader does one final attempt at getting Luke to notice her.

Word Count: 1,615

Authors note: appear I just write a lot of angst. Again Where’s my Love by SYML is the vibe lol

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The day we woke up on the floor of the garage in the year 2020 was the worst day of my life.

Or that’s what I decided at least.

Apparently we had spent the past 25 years in a dark room, with Alex crying for most of that time. The girl who found us, Julie, quickly became our only tie to the real world. We could only be seen playing if she was playing with us. We soon found out that we had unfinished business that we needed to attend to before we could properly cross over to the other side. We figured it was simple. Play the Orpheum and we were done. But getting to the Orpheum was going to be a lot harder than we thought.

Slowly we had started to build up a following on a thing called ‘YouTube’ where people share videos, I never thought such a wide library of videos could exist for free every single day. Practices became a daily thing, though I didn’t know if it was a good thing or a bad thing. 

I really shouldn’t be jealous. Luke has chemistry with everyone he sings with. Alex would kill me if he found out that after all these years I was still crushing on his best friend. I couldn’t help the feeling in my throat when I saw Julie and Luke singing together though... the feeling like I couldn’t breathe. Like all the air was being sucked out of me while I tried to keep the feeling of anger from bubbling over.

Why can’t he look at me like that?

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

I never meant to get him jealous, because I always thought making crushes jealous was unhealthy and only ever worked in the movies. But as soon as I started only talking with Reggie and Alex at practice Luke started to notice how I didn’t go out of my way to talk to him like I used to.

As time went on I started only singing with Reggie on stage for the harmonies. Every time I would look over afterwards I would see Luke staring at me with an almost blank expression.

The next few days were miserable for me.

My only desire then was to go up to him and tell him why I had been avoiding him. That I had seen every glance, smirk, smile, and laugh he and Julie had shared and say it was breaking my heart in two. I just had to watch in silence. The fear of causing drama within the band had taken precedent over my unrequited love. 

I never meant for it to be taken this far. After Caleb branded us I truly began to wonder if my place in the band really meant anything to anyone. My feelings poured out over a page as I explained everything to them in a letter. A stupid letter that I didn’t know if I actually was going to deliver or not. 

My worst fears soon became a reality after I saw their interaction outside of Luke’s house on his birthday.

Tears fell out of my eyes as I slipped the letter into his songwriting notebook and poofed out of the garage. I knew they would find it. I knew my brother would know the first place to look for me, so I avoided it.

I stood in the alleyway behind the Orpheum, tears falling down my face as I held onto my brother’s sweatshirt he had given me a few days prior. Hopefully I could still keep it.

“Are you ready?”

I turned around and saw Caleb standing in all his elaborate glory, “I guess so.”

He smirked, “Why so hesitant little dove?”

“Um,” I mumbled, a shiver went down my spine at his awkward nickname, “I’m just going to miss them.”

“Miss them? You’re going to miss them? Oh (Y/n), they haven’t even noticed you were gone. You’ve got nothing to lose.”

Tears began to form in my eyes. Breathing became hard as I realized I had been sitting here for hours, and no one came yet.

“Poor (Y/n), in love with a boy who doesn’t even notice her. A brother who was rejected by even his parents, and a best friend who doesn’t even notice her feelings. You can leave all that behind, just shake my hand.”

I stood there, debating on if I really wanted to give it all up. Did I really get a choice in this? I slowly lifted my hand, still hesitating.

“(Y/n), look around. They haven’t even come for you yet, and I’m sure that rat Willie already told them what you were doing. They just don’t care-”

“That’s not true!”

I turned around and saw my band running towards me.

“(Y/n) don’t listen to him? He’s manipulating you,” Alex said.

Tears fell down my face as Caleb grabbed my shoulder, “You’re too late. (Y/n) just look at them. They didn’t even notice as you drifted further and further away.”

My eyes flickered up, Luke locked eyes with me. Tears were forming in his eyes, “(Y/n) please don’t do this.”

I looked back down at the ground.

Julie spoke up, “(Y/n), you really don’t realize how much you contribute to this band. We all care about you so much.”

“I doubt she wants to hear from you,” Caleb scoffed, “Seeing as you stole the one thing she most wanted away.”

The boys looked at each other confused but the look on Julie’s face told me that she knew exactly what Caleb meant.

“(Y/n) I promise you, Luke and I are just best friends. I’m so sorry you felt like you weren’t important to us anymore,” Julie said.

Luke looked up at me but I tried not to meet his gaze.

“(Y/n),” Alex said, “You’re my sister. I can’t lose you too. Please.”

Tears ran freely down my face as I pulled myself away from Caleb. Luke ran forward and caught me as I began to fall.

Caleb let out a frustrated yell and disappeared. I didn’t even bother to look up as I sobbed into my hands.

“I’m so sorry,” Luke whispered to me. Alex pulled everyone into a group hug.

“Guys I’m so sorry,” I sobbed.

“This isn’t your fault,” Reggie said.

I brought my hands down to wrap around Luke’s shoulders, “I just didn’t feel good enough. I wanted to know if you guys really cared. I’m so sorry I should have said something.”

“We’re just happy we got here in time,” Alex said, he ran a hand through my hair, “I’m so glad you’re okay.”

My tears came to a slow stop, and eventually we began to walk home.

“Guys, I’m taking (Y/n) somewhere. We’ll catch up.”

The guys waved as Luke grabbed my hand and pulled me in a different direction. It soon became clear where he was taking me. 

“Do you remember this place?” he asked.

“Barely,” I said. I looked around the park I had always gone to, it had changed so much since 1995, “They tore the gazebo down.”

He looked over to where the rickety white structure used to be, a bathroom area was there now.

“I remember, you used to always go there after there was a fight at your house.”

I nodded, “Quiet, secluded, free to go to. Can’t tell you how many songs I wrote here.”

He pulled me over to sit on the benches near the playground. 

“Why didn’t you tell me?” he said. 

I looked up at the clouds, trying to get the answer straight in my head, “I just… I had seen how you looked at her. I wanted you to look at me like that. Once I started to pull away, no one seemed to notice. Caleb offered me his help, he said I’d be famous…”

“What made you hesitate?”

“I realized… I didn’t want a million admirerors, I just wanted one. Nothing could compare to that.”

I jumped as he reached over to grab my hand, bringing it over to sit in his lap as he covered it in both of his, “I want to be that person.”

“You always were.”

He smiled. He brought my hand up and placed a kiss gently on my knuckles. In a quick moment of bravery I leaned over and kissed his cheek quickly.

He placed both his hands on my cheeks before pulling me into a real kiss. The boy I thought I had lost was kissing me. The kiss I had always dreamed of but thought I could never have. 

We both pulled away breathing heavily. I looked up and giggled at his swollen lips and tousled hair knowing I probably looked the same. 

“I’m sorry it’s taken so long for me to say this. I love you (Y/n). I’ve loved you since the day I met you, I loved you after we died, and I loved you every moment till now. I guess the only reason why I didn’t do anything is I was so scared of you not liking me back, or how your brother would react.”

I sighed as he rubbed his thumb across my cheek, “How do you think he’ll react?”

“He told me while we were looking for you I should’ve asked you out weeks ago. He knows,” He laughed.

The sun had started to set, the light illuminated him making him look ethereal. I pulled him into another quick kiss, “I wish I had done this sooner.”

“What? The kiss or trying to sell your soul to a dead magician?”

I laughed, “Either.”

He smiled and wrapped his arm around me, “Don’t do the second one again anytime soon.”

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

Taglist: @thebookwormlife @talksoprettyjjx  @coolreallyfuzzystudentuniverse  @igotabadfeelingabouteverything @larrystylinson-sus @lovesanimals @aunicornmademedoit @thexhotmess @ssprayberrythings @registerednursejackie @peachyxdream @catieiscute2001 @julieandthephantomsblogduh @fangirling-allday @ashleyleblancx @alltimekp @wcnderwoo @unipanda1006 @disgustedchild @aberette13 @dpaccione @whyworry27 @number-0-iz @musicconversedance @owlgirl1209 @angelxfics @hamdehlesmis @solophantomsmultis @marinettepotterandplagg @idkanymoremansstuff @carleywhittaker @spooky-season-bitch @sunsetcurve-h @peresphoncs @lolychu  @joshy-obx @mochamiilk @starenemy @caitsymichelle13 @kiss-themoongoodbye @noncannonships @cherrybombboom @etherealexsistence @itskindyl @heidimortensen123 @starkeysgirl @nicolewithasoul @chenellearose @voguesir 

[sweetestlamb]

Walk Through A Storm

Author's note: Honestly, like I could help myself from doing this. it's short because I need to actually get my life together but enjoy. Oh also I don't wanna think anymore so someone give me title in the comments lol I'll pick the one that fits the best. (Thanks for actually giving suggestions, one really spoke to me!)

Summary: "I'm not ready to stop kissing you yet."

"I thought you were going to reject me." She whispers in between the small space between them, their lips are close enough to meet again in another soul burning kiss and he's tempted to close the gap again. They can talk later so for the second time in his life he wants to be selfish, she brings that out in him; makes him hungry for more than he thinks he deserves. She's been doing that since he first met her.

"I'm not ready to stop kissing you yet." Her eyes widen at his whispered words and without pause he leans closer softly pressing his lips against hers. She tastes sweet like the best candy he could never get as a young boy. Her little hands slide up his back dragging him closer and he goes easily, his walls are saw dust at this point and she's a windstorm. Wrapping his arms fully around her body he pulls her closer, cupping the back of her head as he swipes his tongue at the seam of her lips. She gasps in a way that makes his blood bubble and flow southward. The sea roars besides them providing the soundtrack to their first cognizant kisses. Hopefully the first of many.

The kiss drags and overlaps, her tongue persistent in his mouth and her hands busy stroking and rubbing at his back. It takes all of his willpower to sever their connection but he's starting to feel light-headed (and horny). This all still seems like a dream ever since he saw her running over to him, when she was supposed to be in Seoul. Leaving without telling him. Making him think the worst.

"Why do you look like you want to cry?" She cups his cheeks and he's reminded of that unforgettable night. She looks so concerned that he wants to disappear not used to being on the receiving end of such looks.

"Nothing. I'm fine." He tries to brush her off, viciously wiping at his eyes but she doesn't let him push her away, grabbing his hands tightly in her own. "Tell me what you're thinking. I told you everything in my head."

He almost chuckles at her expectant gaze. She sounds like him demanding payment.

"People usually leave but you're the first...to come back early." He smiles sadly thinking about all the people he'll never see again, and how he considered that she might go back to Seoul and realize that she was much too big for the pond that was Gongjin. He wouldn't have stopped her, she deserved the whole world.

"The first hm. I like that." He stares at her face, grinning at the satisfied grin and the enveloping dimples on both sides of her face.

"A daughter with your dimples would be dangerous, I think I'd understand how Chun-jae feels then." She pauses at his words mouth gaping and it hits him just what he's implied about their future. It's presumptuous and he should correct it but his tongue feels too heavy and her bright eyes suck the air from his lungs.

"Where's Mi-Seon? How did you get back so quickly?"

"Oh." She jumps cutely, suddenly hitting him on the shoulder and he winces ready to scold her for hitting him so close to his injury. But then she starts hitting herself on the head and instinctively he grabs her, stopping the self inflicted abuse.

"Stop that. I like that head." It's cheesy, something he would have cringed at if he heard another utter it but once he sees the smile she rewards him with none of that matters anymore, he'll say anything to make her beam like that.

"You're such a flirt." She fails at sounding bothered. "Oh and I left her in Seoul. It started raining and I realized you were it for me so I ran into the rain and left her on the sidewalk. Crazy right?" She starts snickering at her own words and he stares at her taken aback laughter forced out of his lungs at her infectious giggles.

She comes into his house like she belongs there, going to his fridge without permission and grabbing a bottle of water. He feels parched watching her drink it, never before has he wished to be a plastic bottle. So many firsts with her.

"What are you staring at?" She tilts her head like a bunny and he can't get the image of her with floppy ears out of his head.

"Cute."

"What?" She blushes furiously at his accidental slip and he clears his throat before grabbing his phone, desperately needing a distraction.

"Nothing. I'll call someone to pick up Mi-Seon."

"Who are you calling?" She asks walking over to him, sitting far too closely for his brain to function at maximum capacity. When a deep familiar masculine voice answers she squeals, bouncing in her seat and giving him thumbs up. He feels so proud he could burst.

"Don't say no. She's all alone and abandoned. What if something happens to her? Could you live with yourself?" He replies to the stuttering officers weak refusals and those are the right words to get the meek man moving, it's comical that he would be playing matchmaker for anyone else.

"You're a master manipulator." She accuses and he stares in surprise, "Does it upset you?" But she surprises him by leaning closer, spread deliciously across his compact couch. "No. It's sexy." Her face is glorious under the soft lighting in his living room and he swallows the drool collecting in his mouth, embarrassed when it starts a coughing fit. She thumps his back firmly before thrusting her water at him, "Drink." He listens obediently.

He gulps at the bottle, taking a deep breath before collapsing backwards into the couch.

"Am I making you nervous?" Making. As if it's only a present occurrence, as if she hasn't been making him swallow his words and expectations from the very beginning. He shifts looking at her through narrowed eyes.

She's far too innocently twirling her hair blinking up at him with wide eyes.

"You're doing this on purpose." She smiles serenely at the claim, leaning back onto the couch and by default his arm that's strewn across the top. She presses her body into the side of his body and he tightens his hold on her shoulder. It all feels too natural.

"I'm surprised it's working. You never seemed affected by me. You denied liking me so easily. Biological crisis, my ass."

He jumps at her cursing, she sounds too much like her father. It makes him smirk.

"I thought I had to. You were right, we are so different. I thought it was something fleeting for you, you told me you're someone who gets curious."

"Pfftt. You think I get curious about just anyone? I have high standards. I'm quite a catch you know?" Her signature bravado, but this time he can see through the veil better. Can spot the cracks and tears and it makes him want to protect her even more.

"I know. You're the best thing I've ever caught."

He'll never grow tired of being the reason that face turns so pink and flushed. (Immediately pushing aside an image of her beneath him.)

"Wait here. I have something for you." He wants to argue as she starts to leave his embrace but she's too quick for his grabby hands and he pouts at her unwanted departure. He moves to follow her but she's back before he's even finished putting on his shoes.

"Where did you go? We could have gone together."

"What? Did you miss me?" She teases, dimples flashing up at him.

"Don't be absurd." He denies but his cheeks burn yes.

"Whatever. I went to get this. Here." She thrusts a large bag at him, looking excited and embarrassed all at once. He takes it confused, prying it open and feeling more confusion wash over him.

"These are men's shirts." He says dumbly and she stares unimpressed at him, rolling her eyes before nodding.

"Yes. I got them for you in Seoul. Keep them even if you don't like them. They're a gift." She looks so small and... scared that he reacts without thinking, dragging his shirt over his head and throwing it to the side. The sight that welcomes him as his head pops out of the hole is not a new one, but it's still as effective as the first time. Hye Jin looks desperate, eyes locked on his now naked chest. His skin raises under her intense gaze.

"Miss Dent--Hye Jin ah?" His call doesn't do anything, well that's a lie it doesn't knock her back to reality like he'd expect instead it seems to be the siren call that lures her closer to him. Her hand outreached before landing on the tense muscles in his stomach, with one touch he already feels devastated.

"What are you doing to me?" He aches to feel and touch and kiss and fuc-

But it's too soon for all that. They haven't even defined this yet and despite all the lines they've crossed he wants to do this right.

Taking a step back he escapes her torturous touch and pulls a shirt from the bag, ready to cover himself back up from her too penetrating gaze.

"Wait." Her voice is so raspy and longing he has no choice and he watches mesmerized as she watches him hungrily, eyes darting all over his naked skin dissecting him. He swallows hard when he sees her little hands balled up in fists by her side. Disbelief swirling in his belly. "Okay. You can do it. That's enough....for now."

His cheeks flare at the seductively spoken words and to stop himself from devouring her like a starved man he slides on a smooth button down shirt. It fits him perfectly and gulps as he buttons it up. Nobody besides his grandfather ever bought him clothes.

"It's a perfect fit." Hye Jin echoes his thoughts smoothing a hand across the soft material. He stands ramrod straight at her ministration.

"Thank you. I'll wear it well." His throat is thick and he has to blink to chase away the tears pooling there, dangerously close to falling. She hums before stepping forward into his space again, that kiss effectively tearing down all the walls and lines they had both erected and drawn.

"You're already wearing it so well. But...it looks even better off. I can't wait to see it on my bedroom floor."

A scandalized squeak is all he's able to get out before she's diving at him and devouring his lips so roughly that they tumble onto the floor.

The pain in his shoulder is worth it as she kisses him senseless systematically driving out every doubt and insecurity. At least for tonight.

[loving-all-for-loki]

Voiceless Love Chapter 6: Downfall

Loki x reader, Bucky x reader

Word Count: 3452

Warnings: angst, lots and lots of angst, some Loki fluff, swearing

A/N: I’m sorry. I cried while writing this and had to take a break to gather myself. It’s a rough one

Tag List: @caffeineoverloadandstudying @zizzlekwum @buckylokisimp @daddysfavoritesexkitten @lokiyoulittle @magicalpieex

You spend three days in bed with Loki resting after the Bucky incident. Even though you’ve been able to get up, Loki refuses to let you do anything and forces you to lay all day with him serving you hand and foot. The team watches in disbelief as Loki makes you lunch, gets you your clothes, and even slipped your fingernails once. They find excuses to walk past Loki’s room to spy on you two, but they always catch Loki reading to you or you asleep.

“You can’t be really mad at him. He’s taking care of her,” Natasha states. “Yes, that may be the case, but what are his intentions? She’s not a super soldier or a government trained assassin. She can’t defend herself if Reindeer Games decides to pull any tricks,” Tony pipes in.

“Tony’s right,” Bucky says, “She’s not a superhero in the sense we are.”

“You boys are so paranoid. Obviously, they got closer while we were gone. Is that such a bad thing? Loki finding someone who calms him and makes him kinder?”

“Yes.”

Nat rolls her eyes at Tony and Bucky, sitting down on the lounge seats. 

“What are we discussing? I heard my brother's name.”

Thor enters the room which gains everyone’s attention. Steve and Sam put down their sandwiches and tune into the conversation.

“We’re discussing Loki’s intentions with Y/N.” Nat informs.

“Oh, it is very sweet isn’t it?”

“Not to Tony.”

“It’s like he’s grooming her!”

Everyone groans in disgust. 

“Tony, I think you fail to realize how hard it is for Loki to connect to people, especially Midgardians yourself.”

“I don’t. I know he’s an arrogant prick whose head is shoved up his ass.”

“Yes, he thinks highly of himself, but he’s capable of feelings beyond pride and rage.”

“Most people aren’t like you Tony,” Steve jokes, which earns him a hard look from the billionaire.

“But with Y/N? Someone who’s so defenseless and vulnerable?” Bucky adds in.

-

Loki comes in with a bowl of mac n’ cheese, setting it before you.

“I had to get Thor to help me. I’m very good with Midgard technology. I’m not even sure what a microwave really is.”

You chuckle inside at Loki’s innocence and start eating the macaroni before he joins you on the bed, his arm resting over your shoulders. You lean your head against his as the two of you watch some history documentary Loki was intrigues by. Since you’ve been in bed for three days, you’ve only been watching shows and movies you like so you gave Loki a chance. He felt bad then complained about poor Midgard entertainment, but as soon as you showed him the history channel, he changed his mind.

You take your pen beside you and grab Loki’s hand that’s gently rubbing your back. On the side of his index, you write thank you for everything.

“Oh course, little one. You need to be well rested.”

Do you think I could get my own water?

Loki looks beside him to see your glass empty and sighs.

“I suppose you can.”

You smile up at him before getting out of bed. It’s weird to feel the cold floors on your feet after spending so much time under thick warm blankets. You shuffle your way over to the other side of the bed and take the glass. Loki keeps an eye on you as you make your way around, ready to pounce at grab you if you fall over and pass out. You give him a smile and pat on the shoulder before making your way to the door.

Taking your time, you walk down the hallway and hear your name come up in conversation. You stop right before the entrance to the living room, your hands shaking as you grip the glass cup tightly.

“But with Y/N? Someone who’s so defenseless and vulnerable?”

“I know it seems what you would say sketchy, but Loki’s intentions are honorable.”

“And Buck, you’ve seen the way she is with you. She holds onto your metal arm. She’s not afraid of most things other people are,” Steve adds.

Listening to them discuss you like they know you is irritating. Bucky goes on to talk about how weak and fragile you are and the others don’t disagree. They add comments about Loki that infuriate you. ‘He’s dangerous’. ‘He’s using her’. ‘He’s tricking her’. It didn’t feel like manipulation when he made you tea last night. It didn’t feel like manipulation when he explained book plots you didn’t understand. Why did they see him for someone he isn’t? Why do they still hold New York against him as if it was completely him?

You get pulled out of your thoughts when you hear Bucky speak again.

“I don’t like that he went after someone so innocent and defenseless like her.”

You step into their sight as soon as the words leave Bucky’s mouth. Everyone turns to stare at you, realizing you heard them talking about you. Bucky’s eyes go wide at the hurt expression written across your face, realizing he had messed up.

“How much did you hear?” Steve asks.

You slowly and nervously shake your head in disgust. Bucky takes a step forward to come near you but you stumble over your feet as you back up, falling and landing on your wrists. Tears start forming in your eyes as you look back up at the team, specifically Bucky who looks likes he just ran over someone’s dog.

“Y/N, you know I didn’t mean-”

You shake your head and run back down the hallway, ignoring Bucky’s pleads and the Avengers trying to diffuse the situation. Your vision was so clouded by the tears that you miss Loki coming up behind you and run straight into him.

“Woah, woah,” he gasps, grabbing your forearm as you stumble, “what’s-”. He notices the tears slowly falling down your face. “What did they do?”

You shake your head and push past him, retreating into yout room and under your blankets. Loki storms straight to the Avengers instead of with you.

“Tell me what in the nine realms you did to make her cry?”

The team is stunned as Loki raises his voice. There’s fury raging in his eyes, popping his veins out in anger. 

“She overheard something. It’s fine.” Sam says.

“Then tell me why she looks like someone hit her dog?”

Bucky puffs up his chest and walks straight up to Loki in a threatening manner, but Loki doesn’t react even an inch.

“Why do you care, huh? Why are you so attached to her? I thought you hated humans! That’s why you attacked New York right? You wanted to take control of us ‘weak humans’, but you failed, so what gives you the right to take her?”

“Are you implying she is weak?”

Bucky stays silent and holds his stoic look. 

“You are. That’s what you were saying, wasn’t it? She heard you call her weak.”

Loki scoffs at the soldier and looks to the other avengers for a sign of confirmation. They don’t meet his eyes with trigger alarms in his brain.

“You are all despicable. You know nothing about her. She is not as vulnerable as you think she is.”

“That’s not the point, Reindeer Games,” Tony cuts in, “The point is what are your intentions with her? Why do you want her so bad?”

“What? You think I’m manipulating or messing with her in some way. Is it impossible to imagine me liking someone’s presence?”

“Honestly, yes. We do. We’ve seen you do it in New York. Why can’t you do it now?”

There’s a deafening silence looming over the room. Loki’s eyes go cold as he clenches his fist, trying to not knock Tony out on the spot. Bucky still stands in his face, searching for some kind of vulnerable moment, but all he sees is fury in Loki’s face. He realizes they may be wrong in this situation. No one gets angry like this over nothing. They have never seen him like this before, so much so that even Thor takes a step away from his seething brother. Like nothing happened, Loki swivels and rushes away down the hall, but passes his room and goes straight to yours to find you balling underneath your sheets.

His anger does not go away, but only lessens as he removes the barrier between you two. He sees you curled into yourself, crying as if you had to get rid of every ounce of water in your body. No human has ever seemed so in need comfort to him before than now. Picking you up, he adjusts in bed with you on his lap, gripping your hands tight to his neck, burying your face in his chest. Loki pats your head and shushes you, trying to calm you down while his own burdens flash through his mind.

“I am absolutely outraged by those people,” he says, “how dare they speak like that about you. Do not listen, little one. You are stronger than you know and they are not aware. They do not know you like I know you.”

You continue to sob into him but the tears slow down. Heavy gasping turns into staggered breathing as your heart races less.

“I cannot fathom their incompetence. Pathetic Midgardians. I don’t think they’ll ever forgive me for my advances.”

“I forgive you.”

Loki snaps his head to look down at you, who is staring up at him, face flushed with tears. You had spoken.

Your voice. It’s unlike anything he’s ever heard and he only heard three words. Three so very important words he never thought he’d hear anyone say and you said it with such meaning. Such kindness and heart. It sounded like the heavens themselves opened up and relinquished its glory to him. He felt his body get a rush of warmth flowing through him, one that reminded him of being home with Frigga.

“Thank you,” he says, “I fear you may be the only one.”

He’s scared to say anything about you speaking and freak you out. If he has to go another lifetime without hearing your voice again, he’d never forgive himself.

“I’m tired,” you say sheepishly.

“Then go to bed, darling. I’ll still be here when you wake.”

-

You wake the next day to the sounds of crashing. Manly voices you have never heard before boom. Springing awake, you forget about Loki falling asleep next to you and accidentally elbow him in the face. “What the-”

“Loki, I’m sorry! I forgot-”

“It’s okay, little one. Accidents happen,” he groans.

The two of you get up off the bed for you to change. With a flick of the neck, Loki uses his magic to change into a three piece suit as he usually wears. You come out with a deep green overalls that makes him smile.

“I like it when you wear my colors.”

“I’ll keep that in mind.”

Hearing your voice in the morning reminds him why he’s around. You’re so perfect in so many ways and that angelic noise only proves that more and more. The sounds of a male booming voice brings him out of his paradise. Taking your hand, the two of you enter the main room where the other Avengers are gathered with a man you’ve never seen before talking to Thor.

“Heimdall,” Loki announces, “what are you doing here?”

The man turns to see Loki standing next to you and doesn’t miss the interlocking of your hands. He turns to Thor who gives a weak smile and whispers something for only him to hear before looking back to you and the god.

“I am here to take you back to Asgard.”

“Father has requested you to come home and get punished for your actions on New York since you have been spending time here. He wants to take proper precautions on behalf of Asgard,” Thor adds.

“That’s ridiculous. He can’t beg for me now.”

“He can, brother, as I am afraid.”

You take Loki’s collar and bring his ear closer to you.

“Does that mean I won’t get to see you?”

“Don’t worry, darling. I won’t let them take me.”

Steve looks between Bucky and Tony who are staring wide eyed at your interaction with the god. Even Clint and Nat stare in awe as you have a private conversation, clearly speaking to Loki.

“What is happening?” Heimdall asks.

“She’s never spoken before,” Thor whispers.

“And she’s speaking to Loki? Why him?”

“I’ve said ‘I’m afraid’ many times and I’m going to say it again. I’m afraid they’ve bonded greatly. This will be an issue if All-Father intends to keep Loki in prison on Asgard.”

“Wonderful.”

Loki walks away from you and takes Thor’s arm, pulling him away to the side.

“Do you really expect me to fall for this?”

“For what?”

“Father wants me home. I know all he wants is to throw me in some cage for eternity. I’m not going no matter how much you plead or even if Father wants to come down here himself and drag me through the Bifrost.””

“There’s nothing I can do. Heimdall had strict orders.”

You walk over to Bucky who puts a protective arm around you, trying to ignore the pain of being second to comfort. He kisses the top of your forehead which you smile for. A glimmer of hope rests in Bucky’s heart that you still have feelings for him despite spending all your time with Loki. You hold to him tight, hugging him around his waist, in anxiousness. You can’t imagine if Loki is gone, the one person you trust the most, you haven't hurt before.

“I can’t leave Y/N,” Loki whispers, “I don’t think you understand that.”

“Brother, I understand your connection to her, but I-”

“Don’t say you have no choice. You can go back to Father and tell him that I’m not coming.”

“You know I can’t do that.”

“Yes, you can.”

“No, I can’t.”

“Yes, you can.”

“No, I can’t.”

“Yes, you can.”

“There’s no point in arguing about this, Loki. You have to go home.”

“What will happen to her, then? She’ll be stuck here with people who treat her like a child.”

“She’ll be fine. She’s a big girl.”

“Not to them. To them she’s weak and useless. She’ll never be used for her powers properly. She’ll never be treated as an equal.”

“I’ll make sure that she does.”

“Brother, I’m the god of lies. I can see straight through you. You’re not going to do anything but sit by and watch them.”

“I’ll watch out for her.”

Loki’s chest rises as he takes in a deep breath, knowing his brother won’t do anything. He contemplates his options: either go with Heimdall or stay here and face worse punishment when he sees his Father one day.

“How long will I be gone for?”

“My hope is a month or two, but most likely two or three years.”

“I can’t leave her that long.”

“Then I will fight for your freedom or escape every day.”

Loki takes a look at you hugging Bucky. The exact image in front of his is what he fear most: losing you to the soldier who looks at you the same way he does. He knows he has no choice if he wants to face a lesser punishment.

“Fine. Give me a moment to say goodbye.”

“Of course.”

Loki walks to you who lets go of Bucky and hugs him. He wraps an arm around your waist and walks with you over to the entrance of the hall where no one can hear you.

“I have to go, darling.”

“Please, don’t.”

The team watches as you open your mouth and speak to Loki, proving to them there was a situation at hand with your attachment to Loki.

“Oh no,” Tony mumbles.

“We’re in trouble,” Nat agreed.

Bucky tries to drown out the anger and instead, a wave of depression over comes him. He knows he messed up with you, but seeing how quick you moved to the god makes him sad, knowing he could have had that with you had he not gotten hurt or even gone on that mission.

“I have no choice, Y/N, but I promise whatever happens, I will come back.”

“What do you mean ‘whatever happens’?” 

“There is a good chance I’m being locked away for some time. Thor said that if that is the case, he will help me get out and return to you.”

“You promise you’ll come back?”

“There is not a soul in the nine realms that can stop me from coming to you, because you are my home and you can’t rip my heart away from you.”

Silver tongue. You knew they called him that for a reason.

“I promise, my darling.” 

“I’m scared if you don’t come back.”

“I know. I am too. I fear that I’ll never forget you and spend the rest of my days in a cell longing for your touch.”

“Please, don't’ say that.”

“I’m sorry,” he chuckles, “I take it back. I’ll see you in good time.”

Loki gives you a tight hug, burying his face in the crook of your neck. You start crying on his shoulder, leaving dark spots on his suit. Before walking to Thor, Loki lifts your chin up with his hand, connecting his lips to yours. 

You taste like strawberries and wine. Loki thinks to himself that he could get drunk on your lips all the time, always thirsting for you. You’re so soft, like floating on a cloud. He thought your voice was the closest thing to nirvana, but he was wrong. He is just the same. He tastes like whiskey and is sensual with his touch. You can feel the butterflies in your stomach flying around, fluttering their wings and bumping into the insides of you. A chill runs down your spine as the two of you hold each other. You never want to stop kissing him.

Thor coughs under his breath, distracting you and Loki, breaking your kiss. Loki turns to his brother with sadness in his eyes that every person sees. The Avengers look at one another, seeing how painful this is for him, but they don’t dare to look at you. Tears roll down your face, flushing you over. They’ve never seen anyone look so desperate for help. It breaks them, but they don’t dare go against Odin’s word.

Loki walks over to Heimdall who places a hand on his shoulder. He turns back to face you across the room.

“Goodbye, my love.”

In a flash, the two are gone, leaving you a blubbering mess in front of the heroes. Bucky takes a step forward to console you, but you fall backwards shaking your head.

“I’m sorry, Y/N, but Loki needs to take responsibility. He’s a criminal.”

“No!” You scream.

Everyone is taken back by the anger and desperation in your voice. Nat and Sam share a look, in awe of your vocal power. Bucky goes wide eyed, staring at you whose eyebrows are furrowed and mouth wide open. You’re choking on your own breath as you hyperventilate. No one dares to say anything as they urge you to break the silence, not wanting to miss a single thing you say.

“You don’t get to say shit!” You yell. “You don’t know him! You don’t get to say ‘he’s a criminal’! He’s a good man and you all are disappointing children! You’re children! Only mature people don’t try to hurt those who hurt them! They understand and listen and make them better! You’re only out to destroy! You’re not heroes fighting for vengeance! You’re villains wanting revenge! You disgust me! The way you treat him and me, so don’t say anything about Loki! People say things happen for a reason, so when I punch you in the face for ever saying anything bad about him ever again, remember I had a reason!”

You turn to walk away from the paralyzed group. They try to take in everything you said, shocked by your first words to them being rage over Loki. There’s no words they have left in them as you’ve taken all of them, except for Bucky. He stand there, heart shattering in a million pieces from watching you pour your heart out for a man who did his people wrong, for a man who is a war dictator. 

“Why do you care so much about him?” He screams at you.

You stop in your tracks, facing them with your face full of pain and sorrow.

“Because I love him.

[wlw-lovestruck-fiction]

Can I request a Viv Tang fic or hc?

It's angst, where The Poppy leaves MC to take the blame on one of their heists, promising that they would break her out, but never did. Yet despite that she never sold them out.

Then Nadia was the one who broke her out, manipulating her and plotting lies in her head to make her join Flashpoint.

The Poppy did do their everything to break MC out but everytime Nadia intercepts them. So when they finally tracked down where MC and Nadia is, on the location of their latest operation, they tried to reason to her. But MC's loyalty was too deep for Nadia maybe because Nadia also made MC think that she loves her or something.

And maybe the last words could be:

"Next time I won't hesitate to tell them to pull the trigger, maybe I'll be the one to pull the trigger myself."

Make it as angsty as possible please and thank you in advance!

Warning: Mentions of murder.

...

Prison life was hell. Try as she might, MC couldn’t endure it as well as she thought she could. There was an enemy in every shadow, in every corner. There was no one to lean against, no support.

The days dragged on and on, virtually endless, no help in sight.

MC remembered the warmth of the Poppy, their joyous celebrations, the life in their eyes as they planned a heist that would ultimately unveil in failure. No one had known then that it would go wrong, and MC couldn’t help but wonder if they would have cared. If they would have changed anything in the plan.

There wasn’t a moment in this damn place where people didn’t shove it in her face—no doubt it was on purpose, why the heck would they want to drag a failure like you around? —and scoffed at her when they saw her, not believing for a second that this scared little kid could belong to such a famous group.

Two weeks in, MC had abandoned any hope that she would be rescued. She was stuck for fifteen years in this place. Investigators would come in periodically, their eyes stone cold as they probed her for answers, but MC kept her mouth shut and looked away. They would get physical sometimes, intent on getting answers, but MC say nothing.

The memory of a place she truly belonged in was still fresh in her mind. She had always been an emotional person… it was no surprise she had no desire to sell them out. At least not yet. Give her a couple of months, and maybe she’d be bitter enough to do it.

Three weeks in, a blast had knocked the whole prison into chaos. The sheer relief that flooded her was only slightly evaporated by the spark of anger and indignation in her chest, but she still hurried out, thirsty for freedom.

She expected to see Vivienne’s impish smirk, hand extended in her direction, no remorse in her eyes, but was surprised by golden hair and a tight, crisp suit that had once been white, now marred by dirt and smoke and blood.

“Oh good, I was wondering how much target practice I would have before you showed up,” the woman said, her grin as sharp as a knife’s edge even though she was standing so casually, as if they weren’t standing at the edge of a broken prison wall but in a café.

MC froze, caught off guard. Someone—another inmate—ran behind her, intent on reaching freedom, and the woman whipped a gun in his direction so fast he didn’t even have time to react. His body joined the pile of bodies by the side, momentum making it flop like a sad, broken doll. The woman hums to herself as she reloads the gun.

“Hurry up, MC, I don’t have all day.”

“Wha—? But you just shot—”

She shrugs, nonchalant. “Yeah, well, since they are no use to me… I might as well practice my aim, no?”

“…I—”

“Hurry up and come here, MC,” the woman says, impatience making her voice firmer and deadlier. Her arm snaps up, the sound of a gunshot making the air vibrate, and MC covers her ears and flinches. Someone lets out a pained gurgle and the thump right behind her makes MC shiver. A swift glance reveals it’s a guard. “The cavalry has arrived—next shot is at your feet if you don’t move. Right. Now.”

MC has never run so fast in her entire life. The woman’s grin returns, pleased, and after one last shot, she guides MC out into a waiting helicopter. They are out of the prison without much trouble. Still a bit anxious, MC takes one of the seats, stiffly. In contrast, the woman lets herself drop in the seat in front of her and all but beams at her.

“Sorry about that—I like to make things dramatic. Name’s Nadia.”

“That was… a tad more dramatic than I would have liked…”

“You’ll get used to it in no time,” she replies, waving her hand as if it’s no big deal. She smirks and lets the gun drop on MC’s lap, who goes very still, staring at the device in horror. “Safety’s on, chill. I’d never do anything to you, MC.”

“You literally threatened me like three seconds ago.”

“Because we were going to get caught otherwise! I wouldn’t have acted on it, promise.”

MC chances a look at her eyes—there’s a dangerous amusement dancing in them, like the light blue of a river that doesn’t seem to have a very strong current until you are swept off into a certain death. There are no second chances with this woman, no false appearances. MC doesn’t realize how reliving this raw honesty is until it washes over her, and she wonders if right now she’s at the edge of the river. One wrong move…

“Thank you for getting me out of there.”

“No big deal. I heard what happened with the Poppy—figures they aren’t as noble as they make everyone believe.”

Those words cut into MC like a frosty knife.

“I… I thought they sent you to break me out…”

Nadia scoffs. “Me, working with stuck-ups like them? Now that’s a good laugh.”

“Why did you bail me out, then?”

“Why wouldn’t I?” She leans forward. “The Poppy threw away some very valuable talent. As any proper thief would do, I claimed it for myself.”

“…threw away, huh?”

“They were quite satisfied with themselves, too. Imagine the fit they’ll have when they know you’re with Flashpoint now.”

It’s hard to believe her words. The image of a joyous Poppy is still fresh in MC’s mind, but Nadia’s words tint it a dull reddish-brown, just like a faded photograph. She thinks about Vivienne’s words, about her promise to break her out, and frowns.

“You speak as though I’ve already joined your little group.”

“There’s no other option, MC. I’m not letting a talent like you slip away… plus, don’t you want to get back at them? Show them what a horrible mistake they did?”

“…”

“Or just let them seethe silently in rage, sure. Can’t say I love your approach, but eh.”

Her fingers curl around the grip of the gun. “What happens if I don’t want to work for you?”

Nadia looks at her with keen interest, still with a lazy smirk. “Then you’d be volunteering for target practice.”

“I thought you say you wouldn’t hurt me.”

“I don’t hurt my coworkers, no, but if you cross me—whoever you are—then you seal your fate.”

MC hums, looking at the firearm in her lap, moving her thumb over the safety. After a small pause, in which she glances over at the pilot, she moves her hand away.

“Fine. I’ll join.”

“Great!”

Flashpoint, true to its name, prefers more flashy heists.

MC wasn’t too comfortable with their modus operandi at first, but got used to it soon enough.

Nadia was a strict leader. Every conversation with her was intense and dangerous, especially when she was in a bad mood, but she was thorough.

She didn’t mince her words. She was as honest as could be, and after months caught in Vivienne’s game, Nadia was a breath of fresh air. MC couldn’t be really blamed for falling in love with her, right? In the end, Nadia was the only one willing to support her.

That’s why it had been such a surprise when, in the middle of their latest heist, the Poppy had intervened.

They had been as organized as always—Flashpoint was completely caught off guard, the communication lost. MC could deal with not knowing what happened to the rest, so long as she had Nadia with her.

Nadia had been strangely amused when the Poppy crashed their heist, not worried at all, gripping her knife without a care in the world. That was reassuring… at least during this forced encounter, MC would have her by her side.

And it was comforting to see that Nadia hadn’t taken out her gun yet.

Vivienne is the one who speaks, voice as demanding as firewood smoke, and MC goes deadly still when the seductress goes straight to the point instead of dancing around the subject as she usually does. “Nadia prevented us from breaking you out.”

Her words ring hollow. Now that MC has been out of her influence long enough, it’s easy to ignore her words. They are fake, anyway. They must be.

Nadia scoffs, wolfish grin still in place. “Blaming me now, huh? That’s low. I thought you would have come up with a better excuse.”

Remy instantly starts to explain the foiled attempts, and their most recent efforts to find Flashpoint now that MC was with them, but MC can’t look at him without remembering her time in prison—dark, dark, not an ally in sight, contempt in every corner—and it’s enough to make her bristle.

How dare they? How dare they spill these lies after leaving her to rot in jail? After lying to her for months, making her believe she was one of them?

The fact that they had left her to take the fall was insulting. If it had been Nadia, she would have stayed with her. They would have gone down together, guns blazing. Nadia was the type of person that gave everything or nothing at all.

Vivienne tries to speak again, a desperation in her eyes MC had never seen before, but the sight is oddly satisfying.

Nadia catches it, because of course she does, her smirk softening as she reaches for her gun and aims casually. “Better beg for your lives now.”

And Nadia’s also a very dramatic person, that’s for sure. MC almost wants to laugh at their faces, eyes trained on the gun, expression tainted with disbelief, but MC sees no point in killing them. Not like this, at least.

“What? You still don’t want to get back at them?” But even then, even with how much she’s itching to pull the trigger, Nadia lowers the weapon and scowls. “Fine.”

“Don’t come back to me with this bullshit. Next time I won’t hesitate to tell Nadia to pull the trigger. Maybe I’ll even pull the trigger myself.”

Vivienne sets her jaw and stands still, and MC gives her a small, triumphant smile before she follows Nadia out of the museum.

[not-using-this1]

Sleepless Night ~N.Romanoff~

So this oneshot has kinda been sitting in my drafts on wattpad and on here for quite a while. I thought why not upload it after I rewrite it to make it better than it was, I’d say I haven’t touched this one since last October (oops) but here is this oneshot rewritten, pretty proud of this one (Again this is based off the gamerverse Nat hehe but I couldn’t find a gif for her just chilling so..)

Natasha Romanoff x Inhuman!reader :)

Natasha catches you in the HARM room at one in the morning. Concerned about how you barely sleep, she confronts you about it. (Reader has the ability to create/manipulate fire) You tell her the reason as to why you’ve been struggling, she’s there for you in a heartbeat.

Just Natasha being a huge softie :)

Warnings: mention of sex only briefly for like a sentence, 18+, the rest of this is just fluff

Word count: Around 1500 

Natasha' POV

Like usual, I could barely get some sleep. It has been like that for a long time. But tonight was different. Currently it was one a.m. I highly doubted that most of the others were asleep right now but the atmosphere around the chimera felt peaceful, for once instead of hectic.

Walking out of my room, I decided to just take my usual late night walk (or early morning walk, whatever anyone wants to call it). Heading to the back of the Chimera I couldn't help but here the sounds of someone practising in the HARM room.

It's not very often that someone is doing this, especially at this time. Walking through the door that led to the room, a simulation was of course going on.

That's when I saw Y/n, beating the shit out of aim forces with her power to control fire. The poor woman had barely been getting any sleep it seemed, she looked exhausted and I knew how it felt to be that way.

Sighing I walk into the room "Jarvis, stop the simulation" I speak up. He complies and shuts it down. Y/n let out a frustrated sigh and turned towards me, my arms folded holding my ground. "Why'd you do that, Tasha. I was on a roll." Y/n complained as she walks towards me, unimpressed.

I sighed "For starters, it's one in the morning and you need to sleep. I have noticed you haven't slept in three days." I reply. I'm genuinely concerned for her health, she really needs to get some sleep.

"You’re telling me to sleep? You haven't slept in a while either." Yes, that was true but we weren't here to talk about me "besides I'm fine. I can still go on missions and be energetic, so why'd you care?" Wow that was harsh, the why'd you care part but Natasha totally gets it, she checks up on everyone from time to time of course but they just don't know it for some reason and she is quite direct.

"I check up on everyone but you guys just don't know it." I add with a light chuckle. I go back to being all serious, I need her to know that sleeping is important but I want to know why she hasn't been sleeping in the first place. "Come with me." I casually add as gesture for her to follow me, Y/n shruggs her shoulders and follows behind me.

I go straight into my room on the Chimera, she doesn't question me (at least not yet) I gesture her to sit down beside me on my bed. "So, are you gonna tell me what we're doing in your room, Romanoff?" There's the question but I sensed a little flirtation from her as she said my last name, I gave her a small smile. "What's been keeping you awake?" I asked her, Y/n looked at me she seemed worried about the question as if she didn't want to answer it because I might judge her but I never could.

"It's stupid, there's no need." Y/n replies looking away from me for a few seconds and then looking down at her knees. She was nervous but what for exactly?

"Whatever it is, it's not stupid. You know I won't judge you." I tried to speak a bit softer, suddenly grabbing one of her hands in mine which shocked up both, she gave me a small smile, her hand squeezed mine slightly.

"Something has been on my mind lately and I've been struggling to sleep because of it. I just can't get it out of my mind and every time I try it just doesn't work, thanks to a certain woman on the chimera. I get these conflicting feelings and it gets me so confused and unfocused but I just couldn't tell anyone because I thought that they would yell at me." 

I listened carefully to what Y/n had to say, come to think of it she had seemed rather off these last three days, especially on missions. It made me miss her ridiculous jokes, puns and silly flirtation, I want that Y/n back and I would do anything to get her back to her normal self. "What do you think could make us all hate you? We love you."  

Y/n looked at me, didn't break any eye contact, it looked as if she was on the verge of breaking down, my thumb started brushing her hand as I held it, silently telling her that it would be okay. None of us could ever hate her no matter what.

"I like girls, like love them and I also like this woman in particular- I shouldn't have said-"

"No, it's okay. If it makes you feel any better, Tony' bisexual, Cap is just as confused about himself but lets be honest he likes Tony even if they argue. Yelena is an asexual lesbian. The list goes on." I paused. I was thinking about what I wanted to say about myself. I like men but I also like women although I have never had a relationship with a woman I know I like them because I have had sex with a few before my time as an Avenger. "And me, well I like women to."

Y/n gave me another smile, she seemed a lot happier when I mentioned what I just did about everyone including me. "Wow, I never knew these things. I'm feeling somewhat better but there' something else. This woman I like."

I nodded my head and let go of her hand, I was silent and waiting for her to mention who it was or at least give me a describtion sometimes it helps talking about who you love but sometimes it can hurt, in this case I'm hoping it won't hurt Y/n.

"Well she's very badass, can kick ass very well, looks good while doing it, actually she looks good while doing anything. She's around 5'5, looks very intimidating but is an actual amazing person although she won't admit it. She's drop dead gorgeous, pale blue eyes, I love her personality, her body is just so perfect. May or may not have walked in on her naked once and has red hair and-

I listened to every detail she gave me, only to realise at the 'walked in on her naked' part was actually me. I didn't know how to react until I decided to shut her up by pushing her down on my bed and straddling her waist "Oh, and did I mention she has fast movement?" Y/n lets out a gasp as I pushed her down on the bed but she then chuckles and smirks at me. "You think all of this about me?" I whisper to the young woman under me "Duh, now-

"Shut up" I interrupted her, she raised an eyebrow at me in question but I ignored it and pulled her in for a kiss. The kiss was quite sloppy at first because it was something that the both of us seemed to need after a long time of avoiding these feelings (because I also like her). Pulling away she had the biggest smile on her face.

"So I take it, the feelings mutual?”

"Yes dorogoy, lets just get some sleep. Okay?" Just as I was about to get off her and lay next to her, Y/n pulled me back in for another kiss "I'd much rather stay up." She cheekily smirks as she pulls away, wrapping her arms around my neck and clutching onto me.

"Y/n" I rolled my eyes at her, her grip on me loosend enough for me to get off her. I press a kiss to her cheek and we both get under my covers, she backs up slightly more to me and I put my arm around her stomach to keep her close to me "This isn't some dream is it?" She whispered.

~~~

It had been a good thirty minutes and we had just layed there in silence, just as I was about to finally get to sleep with the woman I loved in my arms, finally. She had broken the silence.

Y/n' POV

I really couldn't sleep, I had forgot to mention to Nat that  had atleast two coffee' before I decided to stay up in the HARM room as well as stressing about the fact that I was confused over my sexuality and the fact I like her, I was so happy she liked me back and now here we are, laying in her bed, her arms wrapped around me.

"Nat, I can't sleep. I had two coffee' and I still have a lot of energy." I heard her sigh, I didn't even bother turning around to face her "Y/n, please just try. I was about to fall asleep."

I sighed and shut my eyes trying again but it just wouldn't work "You can sleep ya know. I'll go back to my room and-

I felt Nat' lips on my neck, pressing a few light kisses to my skin "No, you're here now and I don't want to let you go."

Wow that was cheesy even for Natasha "Okay, I don't want to either."

[dutchdread]

What is Love? Baby don't hurt me.

This article sets out to define different types of love in a meaningful way, and argue why the specifics surrounding Aerith and Cloud makes it so that the commonly accepted romantic version of the emotion can't apply. __________________________________________________

Whenever you talk to anyone, it's important to be on the same page, and one of the most important parts about that is making sure that you're speaking the same language. I am sure we've all had moments where we were arguing with someone only to discover that you both believed the exact same thing, but that you simply used a different word to describe said thing.

"That's what I've been saying" "No, that's what I've been saying!" "Well what are we even arguing about then?!"

When that happens, you're not arguing about the topic itself, you're arguing about semantics, about language.

An argument about whether or not what Cloud, Tifa, and Aerith felt for each other would fall under "love" is a debate about language, not FFVII, and I am not here to have a conversation about language. Unfortunately, before I can actually have a conversation about FFVII, a conversation about language is apparently needed.

Love is an incredibly broad term, used to express what we feel about our family, our pets, our friends, our "lovers", and even our favorite songs, weather, and food. So why the hell do we ask "who did Cloud love" as if love is some singular binary system?

I can never prove that what a character feels isn't love, I can only assert that I personally wouldn't use the word "love" to describe said feeling, and explain why I wouldn't. When we ask "does Cloud love Tifa or Aerith", we are presupposing a concept of "love", and asking who it applies to.

"I pity you, you just don't get it at all, there is nothing I don't cherish"

But it applies to both, and it applies to Barret, and Marlene, and Denzel, and everyone. Because love is far too broad a term to start with, it's a catch-all. Instead of starting with a preconception of what love is, and seeing who has it, we should describe what people actually have, and see what their individuals shapes of love look like.

Even so, I will do my best to describe what I mean by romantic love, as opposed to a crush, or infatuation, or attraction, so that when I say "Cloud and Aerith don't (and can't) romantically love each other", that it's clear what that assertion means to me.

I'm going to tell you a story, a story that, admittedly, doesn't make me look good, but which will hopefully provide context for what I think love is and why.

When I was younger I wasn't the most popular kid, back then I assumed I was unattractive, as an adult I realize its because I was socially awkward as fuck (I was actually cute as heck if I do say so myself). However, by the time I got to highschool I had made a best friend and had managed to figure out and fake social conventions enough that I could at the very least solve my issues through humor instead of violence. The change from typical village kids to a wider pool of potential friends also enabled me to finally find people who were more like me. Even so, the whole social outcast part was still ingrained deeply enough in me that I was mostly putting on an act in front of people, saying whatever I needed to say in order to get a certain reaction, in order to be liked, rather than just being myself. I had had crushes before, when you're alone it's easy to really fall for someone, and hell, I was always a sucker when it came to love stories, but my childhood had basically left me too nervous that I'd say the wrong thing to ever actually say the right thing when I really liked a girl. However, generally being the life of the party left me with a string of girlfriends I didn't care too much about. Even so, I eventually met a girl that I was instantly smitten with, the most attractive girl I knew and somehow I managed to start dating her, and hell, I even thought I loved her. I dated said girl for several years, but without going into spoilers I'll just say that I left that relationship pretty jaded and and disillusioned with the concept of love. I felt like I had done everything I could and love in general was bullshit and was honestly pretty done with women in general. Ironically my new pessimistic attitude made me much more successful with women than I had ever been before, by that time I was known as someone who was fun to party with, and unlike the majority of people my age I was in incredible shape and still had all my hair. However, while I enjoyed my newfound popularity there was a part of me that really resented it because I realized that what women seemed to react positively to wasn't what I imagined love to be like and I hated that. I hated that when I used to be kind and filled with notions of "true love" no one was interested, but now that I was disinterested and clearly manipulative women seemed to throw themselves at me. During that time I basically stopped looking for a meaningful relationship and just decided to have fun until my life would, inevitably, fall apart.

Eventually though I got a girlfriend who I didn't deserve and was much too good for me. However, when I did I was no longer interested in building a relationship and I was pretty certain that it would eventually fall apart anyway like everything else. As a result I mainly cared about what I could get from her, I didn't act like a proper partner and I when I thought about "fixing the relationship" I was thinking mostly about what she could do to be a better girlfriend, honestly, part of me actually resented her for not being my ex. When talking about our issues the general terms were "I'll do this, but only if you fix that". Without going into details, the general gist is that we had a horrible start to our relationship and that affected everything that came after it.

Eventually though this girl who I once mainly saw as just another temporary part of my life became something more to me, she became a more complete person. I mellowed out, and started appreciating her more, I decided to get us to work on the relationship but the damage was basically already done. She'd given up on me ever wanting to settle down and had started distancing herself from me emotionally and eventually I became sick of fighting for the relationship by myself and we broke up. Afterwards, free of pressure, I sat back and l evaluated what I wanted in life, I thought about myself, and her, REALLY thought about her. The good parts, and the bad. And I realized that all the things I was annoyed about were honestly absurd. I decided I was going to fight for her, not just "try to fix the relationship" by figuring out what worked and what didn't, but I just decided I was going to properly appreciate her, be the best boyfriend I could be, and not ask for anything in return. And let me tell you, that change in mindset changed EVERYTHING for me. Within months I became absolutely smitten with her, when I first started the relationship I was honestly annoyed if we met up and didn't have sex, now just sitting on the couch under a blanket with her became the highlight of days, even the things I once saw as negatives became a precious part of the puzzle that made her her. My biggest regret in life is still that I couldn't be the person she made me back when I first met her. (and concerning looks, she is honestly so much more gorgeous than the ex it's not even funny, how did I not see that?). The point of all this is that love isn't automatic, it's not something that happens without your consent, it's the result of actions, of decisions. When you choose to take the time to look at your significant other, and soak up and appreciate who they are and what they do, when you put in the effort, that's when love grows. I've gone from being sick and tired of someone I had been with for years, to being absolutely infatuated with them, simply by making a decision. I could not have made that decision had I not been myself, that decision would have been false. Looking back, all those earlier girls I've been infatuated with, that wasn't love, I didn't even know who they were, I barely knew who I was. No matter how much passion I felt in the moment, no matter how much fun I had in the times we spent together, now I don't even remember their names.

Love isn't your heart beating faster, it's not that instinctive nervousness that comes with talking to a cute girl you just met. It's a complete and deep appreciation of a person, un understanding of who you are, who they are, and what that means to you. Love is what I feel for my brother, who is as much a part of me as my own arm, without whom I would not be me. Someone who isn't just another person in your life, but is a part of what you consider to be your life, without them your life could not be the same, because they're an absolutely crucial part of it. That doesn't happen in a week, because you can't really learn who someone is in a week, even if you could see all of it, you couldn't internalize it. You can always imagine living without them, because you were, just last week. There are people who meet their soulmates sure, and say they knew within a week, but had they never seen that soulmate again, they would not still be pretending they were "the one" years later, and if they were, their friends wouldn't be saying "that's love", they'd be saying "that's an unhealthy obsession". Cloud and Aerith barely knew each other, both when it comes to time, as well as to how much they actually knew about each other. Cloud had no idea of who he was or what was important to him in life, he was unable to be honest with others or even himself, so how would he ever be able to meaningfully make an informed decision to make the kind of emotional commitment that's the cornerstone of love? He didn't know himself, nor did he know Aerith, to whose feelings he was canonically oblivious and whose entire life was a mystery to Cloud. How can we say that Soldier Cloud is capable of knowing who he loves when he's not even aware of the the gigantic Tifa shaped area of his identity. Can Soldier Cloud determine what he values and why without the knowledge of what he's gone through in his life? Sure, but can Soldier Cloud make that determination for the real one? No. Soldier Cloud, and his emotions, have no relation to that of the real Cloud. The real Cloud must determine what people mean to him all by himself. And when it comes to real Cloud, it is pretty obvious who is the biggest part of his life, the person who defined it from the time he fell for her as kid, right through when he became a soldier to impress her, and up to and past the moment he started raising children with her. For Cloud it's pretty obvious who he has the deep personal understanding with, the girl who filled his sub-conscious, and was literally in his head with him, the girl who is stated to understand him best, and who has a shared story with him, having experienced both the good, and the bad, alongside him. Who was there with him when he was a child, who was there with him in Nibleheim, who found him when he lost his identity and gave him a new one, who was with him when Aerith died, who was with him when he broke, who was with him when he was catatonic, who was with him and helped him find himself again, who was with him during the last night underneath the highwind, who was with him at the end in the north cave, who he started living with afterwards, who waited patiently while he went to find himself, and welcomed him back with a smile. I am sure Cloud liked Aerith....but he LOVES Tifa.

[fellulahh]

‘Mammon visits MC in the human realm and Lucifer gets jealous’ Part 8/????

Read Part 7 here!

-

“I’ll leave you be - I imagine you’ve got some catching up to do.” He chuckled, before going to leave.

“I look forward to our afternoon!” She beamed.

“As do I.” He nodded with a warm smile.

-

As lunch was being prepared, Lucifer sat at the dining room table by himself. He was casting his eyes over the box that was in front of him. The brothers had made him aware of their plans to make MC a little gift to surprise her with. Obviously, they offered for him to put something in for her too.

Although he didn’t seem interested at the time, in reality Lucifer had been thinking long and hard about it. While he was still in his state of conflict, he wanted to reach out to MC and do something that proves he still cares deeply for her. He’d been completely overwhelmed by the work he’d been swamped with by Diavolo and the student council responsibilities that he hadn’t even had to the time to think about going to visit her. His work had always been his priority and he couldn’t let it falter.

As he contemplated over the box, his attention was suddenly elsewhere when he heard his D.D.D vibrate. Glancing down at the screen, he had to do a double take when he read the name that appeared.

“MC?” He questioned quietly to himself as he reached over, picking up the device.

His heart fluttered when he finally decided his eyes weren’t deceiving him. A relieved sigh escaped his lips as he sunk back into his chair. He read the text over and over. Even though it was just one word, he couldn’t explain the relief he felt. It was as though his stress and worries were all just ripped away.

‘Luci?’

A smile crossed his face as he began to type. ‘It seems you read my mind.’

‘I did?’

‘I was thinking about you.’

‘I want to see you Lucifer’

As he was relaxing into the conversation, he was suddenly distracted by a loud noise nearby. Realising it was his brothers getting up to no good, he let out a sigh and threw his D.D.D onto the table, leaving the room to investigate. Caught up in his usual shenanigans, the D.D.D remained on the table completely neglected.

-

MC stared down at her D.D.D. An hour had passed since she messaged Lucifer and although he did reply, their conversation soon came to an end after she told him she wants to see him. Rolling her eyes, she gave up waiting for a response. If he really didn’t want to talk to her why bother messaging her back in the first place?

She couldn’t spend the rest of the afternoon pining over him, especially since Diavolo was about to drop by her room to “pick her up” for their afternoon together.

MC flung her D.D.D onto the bed in frustration. She walked over to her balcony, leaning on the railings as she let out a deep sigh, letting the cool air embrace her exposed skin.

“Something bugging you?” Diavolo asked her as he entered her room, ready for their afternoon. He stepped toward the doorway to her balcony, concern flashing over his face.

She turned around at the sound of his voice; trying her best to remain poised so that he wouldn’t see she’s upset. “No.” She shook her head, “I’m just a little hot and needed to cool down.”

Diavolo nodded his head with a smile before holding out his hand. “Are you ready?”

“Absolutely!” She grinned, hopping toward him. Without thinking, she took his large hand in her own.

MC glanced up at him with wide eyes. “Sorry.” She mumbled quickly snapping her hand away. “You weren’t holding that out for me to take were you?”

“I wasn’t.” He chuckled, shaking his head. “But panic not, it was sweet.”

MC and Diavolo soon made their way out of his palace. Driving into central Devildom in the fanciest limo MC had ever seen, they pulled up outside The Fall - a personal favourite of the Prince of Devildom’s. He led her inside, not caring who could see them.

He took her to a booth in the corner that was always specially reserved for him. As she made herself comfortable, he went and got her a drink. Slipping in beside her, passing her the beverage he’d bought, she began to smile.

“I’ve missed this place.” She chuckled, “Although it doesn’t quite feel the same without the brothers.”

“I can imagine.” He laughed, “They sure do know how to liven up a venue.”

MC smiled at the fond memories she’d had in the club. Albeit, she didn’t remember them all because she was often intoxicated whenever she was in the fancy venue, but she still had some fond memories nonetheless. As she was reminiscing, Diavolo studied her face with warm eyes. A beam spread across his face as he admired her.

“MC have I told you yet that this pregnancy has left you glowing?” He asked out of the blue. She was taken aback by his compliment.

“No you haven’t.” She replied sheepishly, unsure of how to react. “I hadn’t really given it much thought myself if I’m honest.”

“Well you should start.” He insisted, “Like I said before, you’re a treasure to me; a treasure to Devildom in fact. You’re going through a wonderful thing.”

MC was amused at his analogy. “Wonderful?” She questioned his words, “you seem to have rather strong feelings about this - I never really pinned you down as the sort of demon to ever even consider having a baby.” She laughed.

“And why is that? Because I’m not like the royals you have back in your world?” He chuckled as his arm fell around her shoulders. “I may not always be the most serious ruler but that doesn’t mean I don’t want to settle down, marry and create an heir.”

“I’m sorry.” She raised her hands, “I obviously judged you too quickly.”

“As I thought!” He spoke dramatically, a grin appearing on his face. “I want you to enjoy the months you have ahead - like I said, what you’re going through is wonderful.”

“I wouldn’t describe morning sickness as wonderful.” She remarked.

“Well no, I suppose not.” He pondered, “But soon in a few weeks those horrible moments will be gone.” He began, his tone growing serious, “and soon you’ll begin to appreciate your pregnancy. As soon as your bump begins to show or you feel your baby kick, you’ll feel different about it all.”

MC contemplated the thought as Diavolo continued to gaze at her. “Yes...perhaps you’re right.” She nodded.

As her mind repeated their conversation in her head, her face began to drop and her smile faded from her lips.

“You seem upset - was it something I said?” He asked concerned, noticing her sudden change in demeanour.

“I only wish Lucifer was as enthusiastic about this as you are.” She admitted, taking a sip of her drink.

“You’re still thinking about him?” Diavolo asked quietly.

“How can I not?” She asked, turning her head. It hurt him to see her glassy eyes. “I messaged him today before you and I left.”

“Oh?” Diavolo asked intrigued as his body leant closer to hers.

“He replied but then just as things took a serious turn he disappeared again.” She sighed, “It just feels like he’s avoiding me. Perhaps he regrets sleeping with me but that doesn’t mean he has to run away every time I just try to talk to him about everything. He’s always too busy - it’s like my life is completely changing while his is just the same as before.”

Diavolo suddenly felt a small throb of guilt in his chest. He was the reason for Lucifer’s diligence.

“He prides himself over his responsibilities—” Diavolo tried to explain.

“I know.” MC interrupted, “I just don’t see myself enjoying any of this until he speaks to me.”

Diavolo nodded, remaining silent. The sadness in his eyes wasn’t subtle as he felt a small throb in his chest.

“Do you love Lucifer?” He asked.

“More so than I wish to lead on.” She moaned.

“Mm.” he hummed, still with his arm wrapped around her. Upset, she leant her body into his chest as she rested her head on him. With his other hand, he held her body close, pulling her in tight.

‘Perhaps you need somebody who’s ready’

-

“Lucifer have you seen this?” Satan asked the demon as he entered his study without knocking.

“Have you no manners?” The eldest brother sat back in his chair with a stern expression as - like always - he worked his way through all of the documents the Prince had left him to deal with. “I am in the middle of something, Satan. The least you could do is knock.”

“Why, are you busy?” He asked sarcastically, earning a warning look from Lucifer. “Well I’m afraid you’re going to want to start sorting out your priorities once you’ve seen this!” He exclaimed, slamming down a magazine in front of him.

Narrowing his eyes, Lucifer examined the front cover. His breathing stopped momentarily as the image before him imprinted on his mind.

‘Has our Prince finally found his Queen?’

“When was this taken?!” Lucifer asked abruptly, completely neglecting the papers he was in the middle of working on.

“A few weeks ago.” Satan asked unamused.

“A few weeks ago?!” Lucifer questioned angrily, “Why have you only just shown me?”

“Are you telling me if you saw this a few weeks ago you’d have actually swallowed your pride and done something?” Satan queried, already knowing the answer. Lucifer shot him a hard expression. “Can you not see what is happening? While you’re here sulking over being a Father, Diavolo is taking MC out, showing her the affection she’s missing from you and manipulating her heart! Or are you completely ignorant?”

“I don’t have time to do all of that! Satan, do you not understand? I made a pledge to Diavolo - this work you see here has to be completed or I have broken my oath. Have you forgotten he saved Lilith?” Lucifer seethed, pointing at the masses of paperwork and books that surrounded him. “MC is safe and well looked after while she is with him.”

“You’re completely ignorant, aren’t you? Did it never cross your proud little mind that your work has increased lately?” Satan asked quietly, yet sternly.

“Diavolo would never dupe me.” Lucifer shook his head.

“Then what is he doing in that photograph? He knows you well, Lucifer. He’ll already be aware of your doubts about being a father - he will use this to his advantage” He warned before pointing down at the picture of Diavolo and MC sat in a booth together in the Fall with his arm wrapped around her. “I’m beginning to think your Lord is deceiving you. That right there isn’t protection, that’s infatuation.”

Lucifer glared down at the photo, his pent up anger began to seep through his body after concealing it for so long. He knew deep down that Satan was right but he couldn’t allow himself to admit it. Frustrated, he let out a shaky breath. “I can’t go against my pledge.” He sighed frustrated.

“No...” Satan shook his head, “But you can see her.”

Lucifer looked up at Satan with vulnerable eyes. Fear ran through his mind as the rose tinted glasses he’d been wearing for the past month were finally removed. He’d been a puppet in Diavolo’s plans.

Reading Lucifer’s mind, Satan spoke softly. “You need to go.”

-

Get ready MC, Lucifer’s coming...

[get-lost-in-fanfiction]

LOST - Another Story

Rating: M

Word Count: 3.0k

A/N: I cranked this out fast, and I’m pretty proud of it. Enjoy Hearts and Minds!

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Hearts and Minds

When Hearts and Minds rolls around I find myself seeking Sun and her garden out. I figure I haven’t spent a lot of time with her, and I want to make it count knowing the months ahead. I can’t exactly remember where Sun’s garden is, but I figure if I wander around in the jungle I’ll find it eventually using the magic of the Island (or maybe TV).

So I spend half a morning trekking through the jungle through already worn paths to try and find Sun’s garden. I’m about to give up when I hear a non-jungle noise and I push back some brush to see Sun. She looks up in worry when I rustle the leaves, but gives me a smile when she notices it’s me.

“Hey Sun,” I call, setting my pack down on the outskirts of the garden, “This place is well hidden.”

“Yes it is, that’s why I picked this spot,” Sun replies, covering her forehead with her hand to block out the sun.

I laugh, “Well I came to find you, since well, I knew you’d be here. Maybe we can just chill and talk? Kate is going to come by as well though.”

Sun just nods with a smile, “Yes she already had come across me,” she says as she plants some herbs. I push the sleeves of my shirt up to my shoulders and get to work with Sun. We work in silence, but it’s not an awkward one. I can tell Sun wants to ask me questions, but can’t seem to formulate the words to ask them. I realize I don’t know how to start a conversation either, and so I resolve to keeping the silence.

Sun and I break the ice when she asks me if I want to learn a few words in Korean. Obviously, I say yes, and she coaches me through pronunciations of a few of the plants we’re planting. I laugh when I can't get the syllables right, and Sun just commends me for doing my best. It's about midday when Jack and Kate come. I can hear their conversation, as does Sun, and we get back to working in silence.

“Please tell me you found a coffee bar,” Jack’s voice says as he approaches.

“Not quite,” I hear Kate say and as I look up they appear. Jack’s face lights up as Sun looks up at Jack then to me.

“When did you do all this?” Jack asks Kate but also looking at me to direct the question my way.

“I didn't. It was all Sun,” Kate says, pausing to look at me, “And Amelia too apparently. I just wandered into this place the other day when I was out picking fruit.”

They kneel down, “This is, is beautiful,” Jack stumbles as he says to Sun, “It's great,” he then says to me, and Sun and I smile.

“She planted some herbs and some low growing stuff here,” Kate says, “And then she started a grove over there.”

“Smart. With the boar running out we're going to need as much food as we can possibly get,” Jack responds and I look away at the mention of the boar.

“Maybe it's not running out,” Kate suggests, and I decide to look up at her to seem less suspicious.

“What do you mean?” Jack asks, noticing my reaction. Kate looks at me as well, taking note at my expression.

“Well, you're half right,” I start slowly and choosing my words carefully, so as to not give away any information about the hatch, “Locke and Boone- are having trouble finding the boar. They're getting harder to catch.” I lie.

“Having trouble?” Jack asks, and I can tell he bought the lie. I don't look at Kate in case she knows I’m lying somehow.

“Yeah, more sparse, knowing that people are hunting them,” I explain, pulling all of it out of my ass, “They know the jungle better than us, obviously, and Locke and Boone are just inexperienced.”

Jack and Kate regard me for a moment, and by the looks on their faces, I can tell they believe me. I sigh in relief to myself and offer a smile externally.

Jack and Kate have a conversation and Sun goes back to work in the garden. I stare off into the distance thinking about how Boone is being manipulated by Locke and how Locke is going to tie Boone up. I shudder slightly, and that wakes me from my thoughts. No one is watching me, though, but I still decide to help Sun some more. Eventually, Jack leaves and Kate stays. I want to leave as well and try to help Boone. He's a bonehead but I don't want to see him struggle. Maybe I can even save his life in Do No Harm.

Kate is saying something, and I see out of the corner of my eye Sun just working. I can tell it's hard for her to keep the secret. It's been 3 weeks, and honestly, I don't think I could keep a secret that long either. Hell, I at least told someone my secret on the first day here. Maybe I'm pathetic.

“I can't believe we've been here for over 3 weeks,” Kate says and her words catch my ear. Only because I was just thinking them, “I was on my way to Bali. I travel a lot. I was looking forward to exploring the Island. Somehow I ended up on a flight to LA, instead. Guess that falls under the category -- be careful what you wish for,” I look up to see Sun smile, Kate’s face falls in shock, “You understood me. You did, didn't you, you just understood what I said? You speak English?”

“Please, don't tell anyone,” Sun says finally, and Kate turns to me.

“Did you know about this?” Kate asks and I raise my hands defensively despite her calm tone.

“I sought her out, actually. Knowing she had a secret I thought it would be good to have someone who understands what it's like,” I say calmly and Sun just nods. I realize my words sound odd and possessive, but I’m sure Kate doesn't think of it that way.

I don’t hear what Kate and Sun say next, I’m too preoccupied by thoughts of Boone. That makes me upset. I hate that I want to save him. I have to, though, or at least try. Maybe I can end his trip early and get him to see what a manipulative person Locke is.

“I’d really love to keep talking about this, but I have to run,” I say as I brush off my pants and hands, “Bye-” I say before running off into the jungle. I head in the general direction of where I think the hatch is, man this is a lot harder in real life.

I feel like I’m running around in circles, and time just drags on until I feel no hope of finding Boone. I hear the sound of a struggle and I think I’ve found him.

“Hold on Shannon, I'm coming!” I hear a voice shout, and the familiar dialogue alerts me to Boone.

“Boone? Boone!” I shout and I round the corner to see Boone struggling to try and reach the knife, but almost reaching it. I figure Boone can’t hear me, and I can tell from here his eyes are glazed over.

Boone struggles more and I decide to grab it before him, “Boone!” I shout and kneel in front of him.

“Shannon! Shannon!” Boone shouts and I flinch away from him since his yell is so loud.

“Boone, listen to me, listen!” I try and shout back, but when he struggles more I decide to stick the knife in the tree above him so I don't get stabbed again.

“Boone, listen to me. It's Amelia, you’re having a hallucination, Shannon isn’t here!” I do my best to speak loudly and clearly, but Boone is still struggling against his bonds.

“No no Shannon! The monster! the monster! Shannon!!” Boone shouts again. I huff and slap him across the face. To my surprise it works and Boon stares at me completely afraid.

“Boone…” I sigh, feeling really out of breath through the struggle and the shouting.

“Oh my god, Amelia what happened?” Boone asks, slumping against the tree and looking up to see the knife above his head.

“Locke happened, do you remember?” I ask as I yank the knife out of the bark and move around to cut him free. When I do he rubs his wrists in pain.

“We were talking about the-“ Boone begins but stops suddenly and looks at me in terror.

“I know about the hatch Boone, continue,” I say to his expression, and it softens a little.

“We were talking about the hatch and how I wanted to tell Shannon. But Locke knocked me out, tied me up, and put this weird stuff on the wound,” Boone says and I’m relieved he remembers. I hesitate for a moment, then rip a strip from my shirt and wipe off the gunk on Boone’s head.

“Well the important thing is that you remember what happened,” I begin and sigh to myself, “I just don’t remember why Locke did this in the first place…”

“To keep the hatch hidden, right?” Boone asks and I nod slowly in agreement.

“I suppose..” I trail off in thought. I go to stand up, but Boone catches my wrist.

“Thank you for saving me,” He says as he pulls me back down. I’m powerless to stop this, though. He kisses me, which is exactly what I thought would happen. I don’t resist, though, maybe because I’m actually shocked he would do that.

I push away, feeling lightheaded and kind of sick. I’m not with Sawyer and Boone is free so what’s the harm? The harm is that he’s going to die, Sawyer isn’t going to die. Yet, I changed this scene. Right here, right now, Boone isn’t having a hallucination. Maybe I can save him.

“Amelia?” Boone whispers to me, and I can feel his hot breath on the shell of my ear. It only makes me feel nauseous.

I shove Boone away and stand up, “No Boone,” I say, crossing my arms over my body protectively.

“Amelia wait- I thought you wanted that?” Boone says and I just shake my head. I feel like I’m going to pass out.

“Can we go back to camp?”

“Amelia-“

“Can we go back to camp?” I ask again with way more force this time.

“Yeah…”

We make it to camp and it's not even sunset yet. I guess when you’re upset you walk fast. I grab around my back to get my pack but I realize I left it at Sun’s garden. Shit. I mentally smack myself. I look around for Kate. I don’t know if she and Sun made it back yet. I feel like so much has changed, yet so little. I don’t even know if they’re at the beach.

“Blue eyes you seem lost!” I hear a southern voice call, and I look up to see Sawyer talking towards me. Then I catch Boone out of the corner of my eye and I don’t react in time.

“Back off her!” Boone shouts in an obvious display of overreaction and runs at Sawyer.

“Boone!!” I shout as well, running forward to try to get between Sawyer and Boone. Somehow I make it and press my palms into both of the men’s chests.

“What are you talking about, boy?” Sawyer taunts, pressing into my hand and making my arms shake in exertion.

“Sawyer?!” I cry out, and he stops immediately.

“Amelia, are you okay?” Boone softens his voice immediately and again I feel disgusted. I push him with both my hands and back up into Sawyer’s chest. He catches me with his hands on my shoulders.

“Go away Boone,” I say firmly, tears springing to my eyes.

“But-?” Boone tries to say, moving towards me.

“Just go!” I shout and he backs off. I can tell he’s shooting daggers at Sawyer. He bumps into people as he walks away, and they look at Sawyer and I.

Then Sawyer is leading me back to our tents. I feel numb. This is not how I wanted this “episode” to go. I just wanted to save Boone, but as the sun is starting to set I can tell he’s off to find Locke again. Tears stream down my face silently, and my whole body feels like a tightly wound coil. Like I might spring up any second and lose all my cool.

Sawyer steers me to his makeshift bed, and makes me sit down. He kneels in front of me and regards me with the softest expression I’ve ever seen Season One Sawyer make. Maybe if I wasn’t so distressed right now I could appreciate this moment of sincerity. He doesn’t speak for a long time. He lets me cry, even though it's quiet. I find myself wishing he’d hold me.

When the sun is beginning to set, and I’ve calmed myself considerably, Sawyer gets up and sits next to me. I wipe my tears and look away from him. Suddenly I’m embarrassed by my show of emotions because I’m not one to get worked up so easily. I know Sawyer is going to ask what happened, and I’m not sure I want to tell him. I don’t want him running off and beating Boone up again and getting us into another torture situation.

“Amelia,” Sawyer begins with a sigh and I can tell he’s serious if he’s using my given name.

“Yes James?” I reply, surprised at how weak, small, and scared my voice sounds.

“Damn blue eyes, what did he do to you?” Sawyer asks with genuine surprise. I have to swallow a sob that wants to tear out my throat. It’s not that big of a deal, yet somehow it is.

“He kissed me,” I say slowly so as to not cry again, “He kissed me and I think I kissed him back and maybe he got the idea I liked it when I didn’t.”

Sawyer sits in silence, and I don’t know if that’s a good thing or a bad thing. I look at him, and in the dying light I have trouble making out his face. His hands seem normal, so maybe that's a good sign he’s not fighting the urge to sock Boone in the jaw.

“Sawyer say something,” I say cautiously after a whole 5 minutes pass.

“I’m gonna kill him,” Sawyer says with murder clear in his voice. He makes to get up but I jump off his bed and hold his arms. I know that if he really wanted to do something he could just push me aside, but in his moment my hands stop him.

“Sawyer it’s not a big deal, look,” I say as I take a step back from him, “I’m okay, I’m not hurt, and I can’t even blame him.” Sawyer eyes me for a solid 30s seconds before he pulls me back to sit down.

“I’m going to stick by you a lot closer,” Sawyer says possessively and I feel my heart pound, “I'll make sure that jackass doesn’t get near you.”

“James, that’s not necessary,” I try to reason and fight playfully against the strong arm that's keeping me from standing up again. Sawyer loosens his arm at the mention of his real name, and I know I convinced him.

“Alright, Amelia, but if I hear he did something to you, he’s gonna be dead,” Sawyer tells me in a half growl.

“Noted,” I say with a breathy laugh and I hope that he can't tell he makes me nervous. I slip myself away from his arms, and he watches me go. I walk away slowly from him, and go to try and find Boone.

I don't have to look very far, thankfully, as they’re at a fire not far away from where Sawyer and I’s tents are. I lurk in the shadows and catch part of their conversation.

“Did you see what you needed to see?” I hear Locke ask, and I flinch knowing what he means.

“No, what was I supposed to see Locke?” Boone asks angrily, and I can tell from the shift in the air Locke is getting defensive.

“You were supposed to be given an experience that I believed was vital to your survival on this Island,” Locke sas carefully, manipulative as ever. It makes me more sick than my kiss with Boone.

“So it wasn’t real?” Boone asks and I have a feeling he didn’t believe me when I told him he was having a hallucination.

“It was only as real as you made it,” Locke says and I shudder at the context.

“I saw her -- I saw her and we kissed,” Boone says and my heart stops for a moment. My breathing picks up and I struggle to stay quiet.

“How did you feel? When she kissed you?” Locke asks and I feel even worse. Maybe I should let Sawyer kill Boone after all.

“I felt -- I felt -- I felt relieved. I felt relieved,” Boone finally manages to answer and I think I’m going to throw up.

“Yes. Time to let go,” Locke says as he gets up and grabs his pack, “Follow me.”

Boone follows and once they’re out of sight I puke into the sand. It’s mostly water and the act does nothing to quell the now seemingly permanent stomach ache that’s made it’s home at the base of my stomach.

Then Kate runs up to me, and Jack as well. They sit me up and give me water. Kate asks what happened and Jack presses to see if I’m feeling alright and what I’m eating. I tell them that I’m fine and that I’m probably dehydrated. It’s a terrible lie, but they buy it anyway. They lead me back to Sawyer and my tent, and he raises an eyebrow at me. Kate walks me to my tent and gives a warning look to Sawyer. I don’t look back at him after that. I crawl into my makeshift bed and fall asleep feeling awful.

LOST

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[themadauthorshatter]

I haven't worked on this in a long time. And I now know what Universe Alterations are😁

If Cal and Iris were arranged to marry! PART 4!!!!!

A month or so has past and Tibe and Orrec are no longer trying to kill each other, though that doesn't fully translate to trust.

Elara hasn't tried reading either of the Cygnet's minds because their guards are always ready to shoot her if she tries, and because they barley take off the silent stone rings.

There's talk of Cal's and Iris's wedding, and their future as the new king and queen of the allied Norta and Lakelands.

Speaking of the lovebirds:

Arguments. NOTHING BUT ARGUMENTS. ALL DAY, EVERY DAY. Iris instigates, much to Orrec's annoyance, and Cal reacts, which really annoys Tibe.

It doesn't help that the two have differing opinions on what to do with Scarlet Guard leaders; Iris wants to find and kill them, but Cal would rather arredt them and get information from them as bloodlessly as possible.

It gets serious in training, when Iris and Cal must fight each other. There is some back and forth, at first, until Iris roundhouse kicks Cal in the face, taunting that he wouldn't hit his intended. He proves her wrong with a punch in the cheek.

They toss ability to the wind and just beat the hell out of each other. There's hair pulling, biting, scratching, kicking, some below the belt, some aimimg for the eyes, and just hell in the ring before they whale on each other with their abilities. Their fights leaves the training room floor soggy, the room itself full of fog and smoke, and the smell of smoke, and the walls charred black.

It also ends with the two of them glaring at each other from across the room as healers tend to them.

"This is not over," Cal snarls.

"I will gladly rematch you right now, Tiberias."

"Neither of you are fighting again until you are properly healed," Arven snaps.

Cal backs down, but continues to glare at Iris, who glares back and manipulates water aroind her hand; 'Try me/ I dare you to try it.'

Orrec is very frustrated with Iris, who asks if they're going through with the plan of taking over. He reveals that no, they're not. Things are going well between the two sides and restarting this war all over again would be a terrible idea, so she needs to play nice.

Tibe does the same with Cal, telling him to at least try to get along with Iris. Cal, however, counters that it's impossible to get along with a girl like Iris. Tibe admits that she may be difficult, but their current circumstance is better than fighting a war.

After the day is over, Maven and Cal are playing some chess to shake off the day's "scuffle," to say the least; Orrec brought up how Cal and Iris basically tried to kill each other, and Tibe simply stated that young love appears in funny ways, not wanting to talk about how the fight was a draw between the two or debate whether or not Cal won that fight against Iris or vice versa.

"You're doing again."

"Doing what?"

(Maven scowls.) "I don't need a Whisper to know what you're thinking, Cal, you wear it on your face."

(Cal moves one of his pieces, more a little more annoyed.) "'I will gladly rematch you, Tiberias.' I completely won that fight. She's just mad she lost."

"Are you sure you won that fight?"

(Cue some serious murder eyes from Cal, and Maven backs down.)

"I mean... from where I was standing-"

"Don't. Go there."

(They're quiet for a few minutes, until Cal sighs.)

"I get we're supposed to be allies now, but why is it THIS hard to at least get along with my betrothed?"

"Well, if it makes you feel better, Evangeline and I aren't really friends either. They probably won't trust us for a long time. We have been at war with them for years on end."

The two talk a little longer befor they go to bed.

Cal isn't exactly in bed long though because he hears the sentinels arguing with someone outside.

Turns out Princess Iris went out for a nightly walk and the sentinels still don't fully trust her.

Cal steps in and the sentinels back off, giving the two time alone.

"I could have escorted myself to my room."

"Knowing sentinels of House Gliacon and Eagrie, they wouldn't have let you round the corner alone."

(Iris hides an eye roll and folds her arms.) "Well, what do you want?"

"Why are you up so late at night? It's two in the morning."

"Why are YOU awake?"

(Cal also folds his arms.) "Mavey and I usually stay up and play a game before bed. One for strategy. We meet up almost every night."

(Iris raises an eyebrow.) "Does your father know you're both so close to his least favorite son and intentionally sabotaging yourself?"

(Too much salt for Cal's liking, but he answers anyway as he chuckles.) "I'm willing to bet he doesn't. As much as he says he doesn't mind being alone, I'd rather spend time with my brother behund my father's back."

"I'm guessing the lack of alcohol helps."

(Again, too much salt, but he has a counter.) "Don't pretend you and your sister didn't spend time together."

(Iris is surprised Cal knows about Tiora.)

"Maven did some digging while my father and I were talking. A thankless favor between brothers."

(Iris sighs and hugs herself, the battle won by Cal.) "I used to walk the halls at night, when I couldn't sleep. I'd watch the moon reflect on the waves of the shore, stand on a balcony and listen to them. You're too far away from open waters, so I tried simply walking, but it clearly didn't work."

(Cal drops his shoulders as Iris looks out the diamond glass window.)

"It's foolish, and childish, but I miss home. My mother and sister. Having my father here has made this easier, all the same I just..."

Neither speak, but Cal understands, as he was training with a legion away from the palace and missed Maven, who was taken home after a certain incident that left him scarred for life and a Red burnt to an extra crisp.

The two talk a little more, about how they trained in combat and whatnot, before Cal escorts Iris back to her room and then goes to bed.

In her room, Iris kicks herself for being vulnerable, while Cal, in his room, laments that this nice little chat will be forgotten when the next day arrives.

Good news: It isn't.

Iris isn't as annoyed with Cal, and doesn't start any fights with him, and Cal is more courteous towards her.

They don't really talk because it's awkward and they're not there yet.

In training, to break the ice, Cal goes to talk to her, but Arven calls for them to run laps instead. Iris doesn't miss it and starts a race between the two of them, which Cal accepts. Soon enough they're both sprinting as fast as they can as they dodge and evade obstacles until Iris backpacks Cal, when he gets ahead of her. He calls her a cheater and she tells him that no fight is a fair fight.

Iris is pitted against Evangeline and Cal tells her to keep her hair up because Evangeline will pull it. She ignores him, which leads to her being yanked around by her hair before she damn near drowns Evangeline.

"Instead of tying up my hair, I should cut it."

"You're father would skin you."

"I'll blame you, then."

Cue a 'Wait, what?' Face by Cal and a smile Iris hides behind her hand. Yeah, she's pulling his leg, and Cal laughs with her.

TIME JUMP TO A BALL!

Everyone is having a good time and is getting along fairly well.

Iris and Cal dance and have a small conversation that if Tibe hadn't offered for Cal to marry Iris, then they'd most likely be killing each other.

At this point, they've bonded and are starting to fall for each other(I'll touch on that in the next part), so the words sort of rattle Cal to his core.

NOT ENOUGH FOR HIM TO NOTICE A SERVANT TIP SOMETHING INTO ORREC'S GLASS WHEN HE ISN'T LOOKING.

The dance ends and the kings toast to the alliance of their kingdoms, though Orrec notices that his is slightly less ornate and decorated with flames and filled with water.

A few moments later, Cal starts coughing and gasping, Maven and Iris at his side first as he tries to make himself vomit, which fails.

Tibe shouts for a healer as Orrec spots the servant and quickly subdues him with the water.

Cal foams at the mouth and passes out, dropping Orrec's glass

WOW! ANGSTY!

Yeah, I haven't worked on this in a while, and I'm basically playing a game of catch up with a lot of stuff I've made

Anyway, I hope you guys enjoyed!!!!!

[threeminutesoflife]

Manipulation Station

Pairings: Snowpiercer Dark!Curtis x Dark!Reader

Warnings: 18+, Snowpiercer movie (movie line*) spoilers, unprotected sex, poisoning.

Summary: Curtis accepts Wilford's offer to lead the train and selects the Reader, the resident executioner for the first class criminals, as he wife.

Written for @jtargaryen18​ Dark Curtis Holiday Challenge. The way she writes is an absolute favorite. Read and enjoy her pieces- she's a gifted lady!

Prompt: “I don’t owe you patience or trust.”

Word Count: 10.5k

“Do you think you’ll be safe when I’m gone, dear girl?”

“I can take care of myself, Wilford. I have most of my life.”

“Yes, but you’ll need to sleep sometime.”

Wilford rose from the chair and made his way to the rolling drink cart along the office wall, “You’re great at what you do. You’re an investment to order.” He smiled proudly at you before turning his back to mix a dirty martini. “But when I’m gone, there may be family members looking for revenge. That worries and saddens me deeply. To think I can no longer protect you. Especially after everything you’ve done and all those times you’ve kept order on our sacred engine.”

One.

Two.

Three olives plopped into the glass.

You bit the inside of your cheek at his words, remembering how many past punishments and executions you carried out in Wilford’s name. The many times you were requested to maintain control for him and administer repercussions on the first and second-class passengers.

You were good at it. Maybe too good. Without Wilford’s protection, you’d have to be on constant watch until someone relieved you from your executing position permanently.

“This may not even come to pass, but if it does- I need to know you’ll agree. I need you. He’ll need you. Between you and me, Gilliam reassures me you’re a shoo-in. And I don’t doubt you for a moment, dear,” Wilford raised his glass to toast you before sipping the drink. “Curtis’ll want you on the spot. You’re an extremely important tool. Trust me. You’re more his type than even he realizes.”

“I do trust you,” you replied automatically. “I always have. You’ve protected me and allowed me the pleasure of administering your final word to those ungrateful, sir.”

“Exactly, dear girl. You understand my picture,” Wilford patted your shoulder as he passed by to take a seat. “Our picture. I need you to keep being that important tool. Keep the train on the right track, so to speak.”

He winked at you before biting into an olive.

Lifting a silver dome cover off the platter, Wilford offered you a warm chocolate chip cookie.

“You, my girl,” he said while waggling his selected cookie in air, “know the right kind of structure. And that kind of structure is our right kind of order. Things must remain as they are, the order must remain as it is. But most importantly, you respect it. You’ll teach Curtis to do the same. I need you at his side. Connected in all ways.”

“But marriage? I don’t understand the purpose, Wilford. It seems unnecessary, we’re forever on this train-”

“He’ll have too much power if he makes to the front. I need you to harness your husband, show him how good things are up here. Let him see what he’s been missing, let him feel like you and him are a united front. You two will be the face of what structure must be, an example and reminder of what was and should be. To keep the structure, you must be structured.”

You coughed slightly around the cookie locked between your lips. Working with someone upon Wilford’s request was one thing, but annexing yourself to another person… What was the purpose of that? But there was a small voice growing louder in your head, reminding you that you needed to be on Curtis’ side if you wanted to survive longer than Wilford’s burial rites. Still, having to give up your freedom completely…

“Why marriage when I can simply work for him- like I do for you, sir?”

“Call me old fashion or an engineer of the future,” Wilford explained further, chucking regally at his choice of words. “Either way, I want you both devoted to each other and the train. Standards and images must be upheld, dear girl. You two will be married and form a united front- for generations to come. We need a little more Norman Rockwell than Kathe Kollwitz.”

Only receiving your silence to his humor, Wilford could tell you were not entirely on board with the marriage role. Why would useless established legalities of marriage be necessary in the confines of a wayward world? It wouldn’t.

Yes, he could easily weave the loom to have you aligned with Curtis as a business partner, but Wilford always liked a bit of extra flair. One extra churn from the pepper grinder for his food. You giving in and agreeing to an unnecessary marriage to Curtis, especially forgoing all reluctance to do so, would reassure Wilford of your loyalty to the train even when he’d no longer be in charge.

In for a penny, in for a pound.

He was determined to present the marriage to you in a way you wouldn’t be able to refuse for long. And fear was always a great motivator.

Classics were classic for a reason.

Wilford needed you linked with Curtis. He needed you alive. You were the key; one easy twist in a locked situation that would open resolution. Wilford needed to reward Curtis’ efforts for his revolt and still ensure his ideal vision of the train remained steadfast. You would be the soothing balm to both their burns.

Making sure you were taken care of when Wilford retired was not an act of deep affection or fatherly love, but rather an earned promotion.

A reward for your years of service and delivery of results. Your safety and success would be ensured if you remained in a powerful position. With you safe, you would continue to reap and sow order throughout the train. Your results exponential.

Wilford knew everyone’s history aboard his train. It was his way to keep all things in place, all order- organized and properly named.

Before Wilford gave you passage on the train, you were a gifted student winning science awards and scholarships; catching Wilford’s attention with your potential by winning one of his sponsored grants. Years later when he reviewed your file, the idea of an executioner position bloomed in his brain. He knew you would do perfectly, a vixen face with a delight for mixing chemicals.

Wilford knew human nature had its moments of people falling back to their more animalistic tendencies. But he thought the front end-ers still deserved a more humane and posh way of dealing with crime. Executions did not have to be so graphically unappealing.

Imagine is everything, and who better to administer those punishments than a charming lady? Afterall, the first-class passengers did pay an absorbent amount of money for the privileged to ride his train. Fine taste should be given and enjoyed- even until the final stop.

“Dear girl, this inconvenient uprising may not even become too successful. More than likely, it will end shortly after it’s begun, or when the tallies add up to the necessary sum. However, if there’s a hail mary of achievement, I need to know you agree. When you do, I’ll tell him to allow you to keep your position as executioner. That your role is needed as a giver of dignified death. Besides, I know you, dear girl. I know how much you need that outlet. How that power sings to you and helps ease your cabin fever. That hobby allows you to slip away for a moment- I don’t want you to be denied that peace in the future. Besides, a gift like yours? A gift like you? It would hard for Curtis to deny you much.”

“Is that all though?” Frowning at your cookie and picking away at a chip, smearing and streaking the soft chocolate across the pristine plate. “To keep-”

“You’ve known about the train’s unique replacement parts and protein bars. The careful balance needed to keep the wheels running on this godforsaken frozen track. The balance needed to be kept order between the tail and front ends. You see how kronole is supplied to keep residents distracted. You’re the someone who knows what really goes on, and most importantly, you’ve always reacted positively to my orders and vision. Don’t let me lose you, I want to keep you safe. I need you to do this for me, my dear girl. Agree and marry Curtis. If he makes it- you are my backup plan, my little piece of salvation. Protect him, so I can in turn protect you when I’ve retired. Humor an old man with his old ways.”

“Why not Claude?”

“She’s not the right choice for this. He won’t choose her, especially since she’s the one who measures the parts. You’re my ace in the hole, dear girl. Gilliam and I both agree. Curtis is going to favor you out of the others.”

You took a moment to think of Wilford’s proposition. Keep the order, help steer the new conductor- do what you’re always enjoyed. After all, Wilford just wants you to remain safe. There was a part of you still unsure about the arranged marriage. The idea of it being legal or not, it was unnecessary but you knew Wilford liked to make a show of things. You were tempted to ask more questions, but then you looked Wilford in the eyes.

This was your protector.

His benevolence and care saved you. His vision kept you alive.

Wiping your hand across the linen napkin, you agreed, “I’ll do it. I owe you my life and safety. You’ve allowed me to test my poisons and feed my creativity, sir. The train will remain balanced. First-class shall remain proper, even in their deaths as you’ve always said.”

Wilford winked at you before biting into the soft treat, “Excellent. We shouldn’t be savages to our own, dear girl.”

~~~

When rumors of the impending revolt drew closer, Wilford reminded you of your role in the contingency plan.

When the revolt birthed as fact, Claude collected you with a bit of blood still on her face as she told you Wilford needed to discuss what was happening immediately.

There were no warm chocolate chip cookies offered this time as you asked what spurred the revolt on quicker than what was anticipated, “Why now?”

Claude scoffed behind you, “Idiot. As if animals need a reason.”

The two of you always were odd acquaintances; a mutual honor among thieves that was heavily seasoned with mutual dislike. Stiffening in your seat and gathering your tolerance in with a deep breath, you waited for Wilford’s answer.

“It escalated when Claude went to measure and retrieve a new part.”

“So, he claims ownership of the part?” You quickly inquired. You didn’t think to ask Wilford earlier if Curtis had family of his own before you agreed to all this.

Wilford’s smile stretched broadly at your phrasing, claiming ownership. Yes, he was very pleased you had the right mentality.

Claude’s eyes darted between you and Wilford, hating how he viewed you a blue ribbon breeding bitch for his soon-to-be prized stud.

Trying to regain ground and favor, Claude chimed in confidently, “They are nothing, they own nothing. Wilford is the sole owner.”

Intrigued to see where this potential debate may lead, Wilford picked up his spoon and returned to enjoying the decadent chocolate mousse he started before your arrival.

Dinner theatre, he mused to himself. How he missed attending those outings.

Not bothering to correct or address Claude to her face, you stared straight ahead in Wilford’s direction, “They are not nothing, Claude. They have a role and a purpose. Perhaps, they have even more importance than a glorified bed warmer? Or even a polite poisoner? Without them fucking like animals, as you said, we wouldn’t have replacement pieces. Without their role and purpose, the sacred engine would fail and we would perish.”

Her silence gave you a small satisfaction.

Turning in your seat, you looked at her now, “Tell me Claude. If the sacred engine ever stops due to lack of replacement parts and you’re frozen, when your vagina’s as cold as your heart, who’s bed could you possibly warm then?”

Claude shot out of her seat, fully intending to warm the surface of table by smashing the side of your face down onto it as she stalked over towards your direction.

“Sit down, Claude!” Wilford pulled the silver spoon of his mouth and pointed it at her.

“But she-“

Wilford steamrolled over Claude’s protest, “Better yet, make better use of yourself. Get me and my guest another serving of dessert. Wait in the kitchen until I phone for you.”

Silence hung in the air as you felt Claude’s stare burn into the back of your head.

Finishing off the last bit of dessert, Wilford gave her another pointed look as the spoon knocked against the glass bowl, “Kitchen, Claude.”

With every stomp echoing out the boxcar, you knew she was plotting your demise.

“I’m almost looking forward to retirement. Refereeing you two is a task in itself.”

“Sorry, Wilford.”

“Nevermind about that, just remember our deal.”

“Always, sir.”

“You never did ask what he looks like,” Wilford stated.

You quirked an eyebrow, “Who?”

“Curtis, Mrs. Everett.” Wilford supplied with a wink.

“Loyalty’s blind. It doesn’t matter, I’ll do what you asked.”

“Hmm, love is also blind, dear girl,” Wilford pulled a piece of paper out from his coat pocket and slid it across the table. “Had this sketched for you, but details aren’t the best with it being done over the broadcast screen. Meet your husband.”

Unfolding the paper, you held no expectations. Hope was a stranger in a make-believe land at this point. But your hands stilled at attempting to flatten the page’s creases as you looked down at a pair of fierce, cutting eyes.

So this was Curtis Everett. The artist drew him in several different poses. Some standing and talking, while in other sketches he was sitting and silently watching. Each piece displayed an attractive man with an air of determination and raw intensity. Albeit a bit broken.

Nodding a thank you to Wilford, you refolded the sketches and placed them in your lap.

~~~

As Curtis began his venture to the head of the train, you and six uniquely different women were gathered in a designated boxcar to wait and see if the Curtis Revolution proved to be successful.

“You’ll remain here until further notice,” Claude informed the women in her care. “Don’t think about leaving. If something happens to you, you’re on your own.” Claude held her gaze on you specifically with that last part. “Wilford had the seamstress supply fancier dresses, pick one from the racks to wear later if things progress. Here are your numbers, pin them on yourself when the time comes. We’ll need to differentiate you somehow.”

“Because names wouldn’t help with that?” you asked dryly.

“Be quiet,” Claude hissed back.

Number Six squeezed her paper namesake with excitement, “Oh, new clothes. Magnifique! Look at how luxurious those evening gowns are. Oh, so dreamy! It’ll be like we’re on the red carpet for an awards show.”

You looked at Six in disbelief, how were you supposed to survive being cramped in this small room with people like her?

Hurry up, Curtis. Win or lose- make it quick.

“Red carpet?” asked number Three, the only train baby of the group.

“Be quiet, I don’t have time for stupid questions and even dumber people,” said Claude.

“Always so pleasant to be around you, Claude.”

“Shut up,” she sneered back at you as the other ladies silently slipped away.

You weren’t sure if the other women ignored your exchange with Claude because everyone was familiar to the open hostility between you two, or if they simply weren’t interested in anything that didn’t concern them directly. With the upper class mentality, you assumed it was the latter.

Blowing a kiss at Claude, you picked up one of the books that were put out beside the drinks and cheese tray.

Everything you’ve known for the last seventeen years hung in the balance, and the six other ladies didn’t have a single fret line across their foreheads. Here you were, waiting to see what the train’s fate might be and the others couldn’t tear themselves away from the servings of special occasion Gouda. Perhaps you weren’t much better, you thought as you ran your hand along the book’s embossed hardcover.

Boiling at the air kiss you threw, Claude cut through the racks of delivered dresses. Kicking an extra box of high heels out of her way, she ripped the book out of your hand.

“My, my, Claude. I see you’ve been working out. Manhandling baby-sized parts really improved your strength,” you antagonized while sitting down and crossing your legs.

Openly laughing at Claude’s temper only set her anger off more as she spat out her next words, “You’re a fucking bitch. I can’t wait to see him fail. When he doesn’t make it, you’ll be left behind right where you are. A discarded napkin on top a dirty pile of dinner plates. Stuck to remain a polite poisoner until you’re ended.”

Mocking your earlier words to her, she smirked at you for what she deemed a clever line. With your nose in the air, you blatantly eyed her from head to toe without responding. You slowly uncrossed your legs and gracefully leaned forward, a look of predatory smugness to your features when you saw her tense up. Suddenly, you snatched the book back out of her hands. Keeping your eyes locked on her, you opened the book and cracked the book spine into submission. Slowly, steadily you raised the book from your lap until it fully covered your chin, then your nose, and then your eyes from her view.

Behind the book’s binding you called out, “Claude, why do you continue to test me when you’re fully aware of how potent my poisons can be- and how well I can mix them into your meals? Don’t make me poison you at your next tea party.”

Claude was about to deliver a counter-threat when the phone hidden behind the wall seal rang. You both knew Wilford was watching, he always was.

“Ah, that ringing bell would be for you, dear Claude. Try not to slip on your saliva when you run to answer your master’s call, little dog,” you teased behind a copy of Willy Wonka and the Chocolate Factory.

As Claude left, you listened to the other women gossip around the snack table. Wilford enjoyed keeping certain cards to his chest and your competition was a hand he didn’t want to show entirely. He said you’d be Curtis’ pick, so why give away unimportant details?

But you liked to be more practical. Knowing details, even little ones, helped you aim for the artery when plotting.

As they conferenced around the snack platter, you overheard why they agreed to participate in Wilford’s selection game and become a tail end-er’s wife. Some needed to repay their family’s debts or their own, others wanted to climb up in rank and gain as much power as possible. A shared answered was wanting a change of scenery on this limited-option train.

They were all lovely women in their own right. If Curtis ran the gauntlet successfully, he’d be rewarded with choosing one of you seven, shiny-eyed brides-to-be.

But as you looked over the options, you couldn’t help but think that your train deserved better. Especially since their only concern at the moment was to consume more Gouda.

The sounds of guards rushing down the aisle of the waiting car snapped you out of your dairy assessment. There was a part of you hoping Curtis would be successful. A small side tempted by the curiosity of what it meant to have a new conductor responsible for the sacred engine. But you were more worried on how a new conductor might not have the same vision as Wilford.

Wilford assured you Curtis would view the world as he did. Wilford believed Curtis to be his successor. So you reminded yourself: Trust in Wilford, so you can trust in Curtis.

But with your curiosity peeked, you left the room of selected women to check-in with the closest guard post. Frowning when you found the post empty, you were about to return to the waiting room when the monitor screen caught your eye. Figures on the grainy monitors showed guards wearing tactical attire as the train barreled to the bridge and into a new year. Masks covered their faces, minimizing human features so their anonymity would be more threatening.

The broadcast feed was not the best quality but you saw a tall man in the middle of the rebel pack on the other monitor. He matched Wilford’s sketch. The size of the group by him was much larger than you expected. Knowing the outcomes of the earlier revolts and rebellions, you thought this revolution would be another failure. Even with those determined, intense eyes of his. Internally scoffing at the idea you would become a widow before you were even married.

Honestly, despite Wilford’s backup plan for Curtis, you didn’t actually think it’d be possible for a tail end-er to make it this far. But there on the screen showed a massive number of rebels. How many more backend boarders were there?

Even with soil and blood-encrusted on him, the man was an attractive leader. You couldn’t help to grin slightly at the feral look plastered across Curtis’ face. Perhaps you had more in common with the third-class revolutionist than you realized.

Leaning into the screen as the attack played out, your breath fogged the monitor as you watched Curtis decide between obtaining his goal to capture Mason or save a fellow man. At the end of the slaughtering and witnessing Curtis’ choice of fatality, you were content with your agreement to Wilford’s chess game of marriage.

Turning away from the monitors, you slipped back into the waiting room to enjoy some Gouda.

Time seemed to pass slowly until Claude dropped off another tray of fruit and ordered everyone to get ready immediately, “Don’t leave this room. It’s too late to stop what’s happened, and now it’s your turn to help the train. I’ll be back shortly to lead you to the selection.”

The sound of the door closing behind her was like a gun sounding the start of a race. Six ladies frantically ran around the room crashing into one another, ripping garments off hangers and knocking items on the ground.

Rolling your eyes at the costume change commotion, you slipped out the door in hopes to eavesdrop on Wilford. After seeing Curtis on the monitor, you fantasized how or if he would accept his new role. Would he be curious and interested in the idea of being able to select a wife, or would he decline it?

---

“’…hold a woman with both arms…*’” Wilford jested.

Curtis looked so broken, nerves and bones exposed. The look of pain filling his eyes and the wordless shock of betrayal and disbelief across his face was not how you pictured this moment for him. Well, you pictured there would be shock, but not this level of absolute destruction.

Something happened to you then as you absentmindedly rubbed your breastbone, a dull ache starting to grow. This man, who was glorious and furious only a short time ago, now looked lost and lifeless. The dull pain continued along your bone and you could almost ignore the pain until he looked over at the wall you were spying behind. It felt like he knew you were there, pinning you in place with his agony as your own discomfort bloomed in your chest. The longer his eyes were in your direction, the more your chest hurt.

But that was crazy, you thought, of course he couldn’t see you. None of them knew you were there listening. Turning away from the hiding spot, you continued to rub your sternum as you made the way back to the ladies.

Reentering the room and seeing the group of potential wives was surreal; how the state of him and his clothes compared to the state of this self-indulgent mock harem. You knew Curtis’ story from Wilford’s files and the small-time you saw his takeover on screen. But to see the vast difference and pain of someone you might align yourself with while they stood before your own eyes- that was somewhat stomach-churning. Even for you.

Normally, you would capitalize on weakness. But Curtis’ pain had the opposite effect on you. Instead of the urge to squeeze, you wanted to hold.

Sitting down before the vanity, you observed the girls behind you in the mirror. Only two looked anxious about the upcoming selection. The other numbers looked like they were having an afternoon away, a short reprieve from the pressures of planning a charity fundraiser.

Number four looked high, kronole you suspected. Thank goodness she was wearing slip-ons. The state she was in you weren’t sure if she’d able to tie her own laces.

Looking at the candidates and remembering Curtis’ grief, your chest dully ached again. For a moment, you thought perhaps the two anxious girls understood the weight of the situation. But the longer everyone stayed in the waiting room, the more you overheard that their nervous whispers were only reservations in having to be in close quarters with a tail end-er.

None of these “I’ll write you a check” girls would do. They wouldn’t last against how feral and pained Curtis seemed. The train wouldn’t benefit with any of them by his side.

You clutched the lipstick case tighter in your hands as your thoughts swirled- none of these lunching ladies could steer Curtis the way the sacred engine deserved.

Despite Wilford’s promise of the selection being in your favor, seeing what Curtis could possibly select instead filled you with enormous dread for the train’s future. These women’s lack of ability and influence over Curtis would never do. They wouldn’t be able to protect him, wouldn’t be able to keep order on the train; Wilford’s vision would flatline.

You were not going to let one of these girls take your place with Curtis and squander the responsibility to keep the train stable. If Wilford believed there was something special about Curtis- that was enough for you to believe, too.

Looking over the inadequate girls, you selected Curtis for yourself.

Wilford reassured you were already Curtis’ type through Gilliam’s late-night chats and catching Curtis’ eye would easy, but you knew holding Curtis’ attention was another matter entirely. A man covered in filth day-in and day-out with limited choices and harsh conditions. You couldn’t imagine how overwhelming everything new must be to him. How everything shiny couldn’t be trusted.

Squinting at your appearance in the mirror, you pondered and planned. Reevaluating the competition, you examined yourself- clothes pressed, hair styled, makeup freshly painted- just like them.

Dropping your lipstick, you wiped your lips harshly and removed your eye makeup. Wetting a towel you wiped your neck, freeing your skin from the perfume. Fresh and clean-faced, you were slightly different than the other artistically painted ladies. Perhaps more approachable? You changed into the most modest evening gown you could find.

Claude opened the door and called for the seven of you to line up.

Taking the fifth spot in line, you waited for her next instructions. Claude surveyed over the seven offerings she was about to bring Wilford and stopped when seeing you. Running her eyes over you, she pursed her lips together.

Spinning on her heels, she called out while leaving the room, “Follow me, hurry up.”

~~~

When you floated in single file into the boxcar and lined up before Wilford, Curtis noticed you immediately. Weak from the fight, or from seeing you- a reminder of a life before the snow and ice, he stumbled slightly when stepping forward. You embodied the type of woman he fantasized about before CW-7 wiped out the world. And he began to feel an attraction he didn’t think he’d feel again.

As he walked closer to the numbered selection, Curtis stopped in front and looked each woman in the eye to see how they’d react to a lowly, dirty, tail end-er. A tail end-er who was now demanding respect. Counting the beats, he stared them down and waited to see if their movements gave way to any hints of judgment.

Option One seemed to be uncomfortable in her own skin, nervously rubbing the long sleeves of her dress. Was she nervous about the situation or him? Regardless, she wouldn’t do.

Number two was not his type, although she did hold her head high and make eye contact with him for the full time. Perhaps she’d be a civil option.

Three’s nostrils flared as soon as Curtis leaned into her view. Eliminated.

Four, well, he wasn’t sure if Four even knew what day it was, let alone where or why she was here. Discounted.

Five, Curtis tried to remind himself not to show how he already favored you from across the boxcar. Because up close, he wasn’t sure he could remain stoic in front of you for long. An odd feeling of being lost and found was stirring around his gut at the moment.

This foreign, mixed feeling made Curtis frown slightly before he was able to school his features. Seeing Curtis’ frowned reaction to you, Wilford made a small step forward towards the lineup. His own worry slightly showing before he was able to place back his mask for benevolent indifference. Claude gripped the gun in her pocket tighter, gleeful that you might fail Wilford and not gain a higher position.

Curtis never had any use for poetry but here you were right in front of him, something so incredibly unattainable that was now so easily in his grasp. The accessibility to having you made him unsure of himself. He was drawn to you when you entered the room, but having you so close, he knew he’d choose you. Fresh-faced and different from the others, you quirked an eyebrow and tilted your head slightly at him as if you ask, “yes?”

Curtis bit the inside of his cheek, trying to ground himself and not give away his interest. As he did with the earlier numbers, he crowded into your personal space and stared, hard.

His mistake, because that was the instant a voice whispered in his head, mine.

That forgotten feeling of sexual possessiveness slowly started infecting Curtis. At least that was how he related this estranged desire, an infection. A limb waking after being denied blood flow for too long, pins and needles racing across his skin. A drop in the middle of a pond, causing ripples to fold out to opposite sides of the banks. Seeing you from afar and now smelling your light, teasing scent sent a sensation of twists and turns to his stomach making him light-headed and his cock twitch.

He became lost in the thought of you laying next to him. Your lips bruised from kissing and your scent on his clothes as he’d tell you to dip your hands inside your panties for him. He’d praise you as you’d moan next him, watching you pleasure yourself.

You were drawing Curtis in deeper into the web of the sacred, eternal engine. And Wilford looked on you both like a proud matchmaker and smug creator.

Stepping away from you reluctantly, Curtis moved to number Six and looked her in the eyes as well. From the corner of his vision, he watched your reaction as he brought his hand up to fix the strap of Six’s dress. Uninterested in Six’s hitch in breath, he concentrated on how you kept yourself facing straight ahead but narrowing your eyes in annoyance. Satisfied on seeing a reaction from you when he touched another, he moved to number Seven and repeated his action by fixing her shawl.

Turning away from Seven, Curtis never looked back at you or the other candidates. Instead, he made his way to the chair he sat in before you entered.

After Claude escorted your group back into the waiting car, Wilford sat down across from Curtis and pulled out seven numbered files, “I’ll let you review.”

“Five,” Curtis stated without touching any of the folders.

Nodding at Curtis’ choice, Wilford fixed the lapels of his robe and leaned forward to rest his clasped hands on top of the desk. “Excellent choice, dear boy. But in the sense of honor and one passing the so-called baton, you’ll need to know your soon-to-be wife’s job aboard our, well, your sacred engine.”

Wilford watched Curtis’ reactions closely as he explained how you helped maintain order and delivered a well-mannered serving of absolute punishment to any upper class rule breakers.

Wilford spoke poetically; Curtis listened intensely.

“I’ll give you a moment to think it over. But remember what I said, it is a marriage. The contract between you both will be followed because we need structure, social form. There’s an image to uphold. Once you select who you want, that’s it. They’ve all agreed to this.”

“So why did she?” Curtis asked before he could think better not to.

Wilford knew this question had been bouncing around in Curt’s busy little head for a while, “She enjoys her job and she enjoys your train. She knows how people are.”

“She likes to murder and punish.”

Wilford tsked and rolled his eyes, “Stop being dramatic, Curtis. She enjoys order and knows responsibilities. She is a good person to have on your side, especially in our high position of power.”

“So you want me to use her as protection?”

“She is structure. Besides, you can’t deny she’s more than easy on the eyes. More importantly, dear boy, she’s someone you can trust. And it’s sad to see you without anyone to trust nowadays.”

Curtis cut a sharp glare at Wilford, “And who the hell played me the whole way?!”

Sighing noisily, Wilford rose from the table and came around to Curtis’ chair.

“I understand you’re upset about Gilliam. But she didn’t have anything to do with his choices. If anything, choose something in the opposite direction of what I’m offering then. Number Four seems like an easy girl to mold,” Wilford patted Curtis’ shoulder ready to leave and allow him some time to think alone. “Is number Four the type you want to be saddled with? Do you have enough kronole?”

Curtis ignored Wilford’s baiting question as he read your file history and achievements. “Why is she the executioner?”

“'It’s easier for someone to survive on this train, if they have some level of insanity,*’” Wilford shrugged casually.

Curtis frowned slightly at that understandable line, absentmindedly rubbing the scar on his arm.

“Think it over, Curtis. You two would be amazing together. You went with your gut and made it to the front end. You went with your gut and picked the best girl out of the seven. Make the best choice for yourself and your sacred engine. Would you like some water while you decide?”

Curtis ignored Wilford’s question. He looked at your old photo from when you boarded and a more recent sketch of you now. Running a dirty finger across your detailed sketch, his cock twitched in his pants again as he traced your painted lips.

Wilford set the tall glass of water down in front of Curtis, and with a flare that only Wilford possessed, dropped a single ice cube in the drink.

“Are you fucking serious?” Curtis growled after seeing a bullet frozen in the cube.

“Take your time to think it over. Read the note. The choice is yours, my dear boy. I’ll be back after it melts.”

The door closed behind Wilford and Curtis’ breath hitched in his chest.

Alone, quiet.

Curtis tried to compose himself in the eerie solitude. When locked in the tail section, he prayed for solitary confinement. A moment of silence. Now alone, he wasn’t sure what was worse.

Curtis raised the water glass up to the light and watched the prism paint the walls, choking out an uncomfortable laugh deep within. Gulping down the water, he spat the ice cube into his palm. Dirt began to run and channel along the lines of his palm.

Having enough of Wilford’s games, Curtis threw the ice cube on the floor and stomped on it.

He twisted the bullet casing apart and stilled his hands for a moment before unrolling the note to read the message.

Blank.

Asshole.

Curtis looked over at Wilford as he came back into the room. He didn’t say anything about the blank message, determined not to give him any more entertainment.

“Number Five,” Curtis stated, pushing the closed folder back across the table. Your pictures safely tucked inside his pocket.

“Excellent! Wise choice. Wait here and I’ll call Claude to show you to your new living quarters, there’s a private bath and a large bed for the soon-to-be-married couple. You’ll find out soon enough, but your soon-to-be misses and Claude aren’t the best-,” Wilford chuckled at the memories. “-Well, you’ll find out that detail out for yourself. What’s the fun in hearing everything secondhand?”

Curtis ran his hands over his face, not sure what to make of all that’s happened within these last days aboard the eternal engine.

Wilford snapped his fingers, making a show as if he forgot something and patting the pockets of his robe, “A piece of marital advice, dear boy. Your soon-to-be wife is more clever at making you feel welcomed than you know.”

Wilford pulled a tube of lipstick out of his pocket and rolled it across the desk. Curtis eyed the cylinder, trying to understand what Wilford was hinting at.

And then he knew.

Your sketch burning a hole in his pocket with your painted lips. Tapping the end of the lipstick on the table, it was that small detail he favored about you over the others. You were the only fresh-faced lady in the bunch.

---

The soft, classical music became a white noise as you looked out the dining car window and allowed yourself to relax. White noise, whiter scenery.

Dabbing the crisp linen napkin to the corner of your soft mouth, you arched a sleek eyebrow in anticipation.

Across the table, the slumped body finally lost to gravity and fell hard against the lace tablecloth as the train jostled and creaked itself out of a turn. The heavy weight of the fresh corpse shook the table causing a melody to play out on the fine China, vibrating a song of disturbance.

Huffing softly at your former dinner companion’s poor manners for falling face-first into his plate, you placed your hands on the table to settle the dinnerware’s rattling tantrum. Taking in the accomplished sight of your fresh kill, you gracefully held the teacup and saucer and brought the warm liquid up to the cold smirk on your lips.

Before settling back into the plush chair, you grabbed a cookie and closed your eyes to enjoy a moment of unsupervised silence.

“What did I tell you the last time you asked to do this?”

Shit.

Opening your eyes, you saw Curtis slide the dining car door close behind him, locking both doors on the keypad. His boots echoing loudly with each step as his eyes pinned you in place. His barely concealed anger immediately caused irritation to run down your spine.

“I don’t recall, please be more specific,” you couldn’t help but douse your words in annoyance before taking another sip of tea.

Why did he have to visit the dining car so soon? He was supposed to be having meetings with the security and maintenance departments. Swirling the remnants of tea, you couldn’t help but feel cheated that Curtis walked in and stole a bit of your alone time away.

The more you thought about the peace and quiet now lost, you rolled your eyes in the direction of the slowly chilling body across from you. Why did he always have to ask questions to obvious answers? Anyone would have known what you were doing here, the dead body gave it away for christ's sake. There was not much to deduce. He had always known what your tastes were like when he selected you- that was part of the deal. So for him to keep stifling your gifts over the last several weeks had become unacceptable. Looking over at the dead man’s ruffled hair you couldn’t help but snicker how things finally came to a head, so to speak.

Curtis narrowed his eyes at the sound of your soft laughter, “Watch yourself.”

Keeping in a sigh of vexation, you placed down your teacup and crossed your arms over your chest. Maybe if you restrained yourself, you could keep the displeasure you felt with Curtis about his lack of action concerning the poisoned body in front of you.

And then the thought dawned on you, “Seems your meetings ended earlier than I anticipated.”

Curtis shook his head at your blasé attitude of being caught doing something he specifically told you not to do.

“So sorry to interrupt your time with such a wonderful conversationalist,” he mocked, waving a disinterested hand at the body, “Things worked out better than you anticipated?”

“No, not as well as I anticipated,” you added back, giving him a pointed look. “Obviously didn’t have enough time to move the body before you found me.”

“I’ll always find you what you’re doing, you’re mine. My responsibility,” Curtis stated seriously.

Before you had time to enjoy the way his claim warmed you, he moved on and mentioned how Claude was currently overseeing the maintenance meeting.

You realized then Claude must have known what you had planned for your dead dinner guest, Vardo, and squealed to Curtis.

Seizing a bread roll from the basket, you roughly tore off a chunk between your sharp teeth. The longer you pictured Claude’s face, the harder you chewed. Your resentment for the woman mixed itself in with the taste of butter and sesame.

Claude liked to be an accessory to anyone with power. She only remained loyal to a person with sturdy purse strings, climbing the social ladder within the front end until she was able to get close enough to catch Wilford’s eye. You remembered how Wilford’s open position for a parts measurer was between her and another woman, Livia. Claude received the promotion and Livia avoided everyone for the next two weeks.

Shy and quiet, Livia didn’t speak a lot. Which seemed like a winning trait for someone who would measure humans to fill the role of replacement parts to the grand machine. But the reality of how the train was able to still run after these long 17 years was too much for Livia.

Upon finding out, she suffered hysterics and refuse to eat; crying for hours and mumbling incoherently about locks and gears, tumblers and bolts, little bodies and broken bones. Wilford was becoming increasingly agitated that her outbursts might happen in public and upset others. He said something needed to be done to ensure the grand secret of the sacred engine would not be revealed. During all this, Claude was increasingly delighted how Livia’s breakdown worsened each day.

Before the end of the second week and with Wilford’s concerns in mind, you convinced Livia to visit the club car and have a girls night with you. In between dancing, she told you how Claude was leaving notes with measurements and little tools on the food trays she brought to Livia’s room. Becoming so upset, she wouldn’t be able to eat. Even high on kronole, she didn’t give away details of what she saw or had to do during the job interview.

But her fate was all too late.

She mumbled once too much wine, “Never sanitize soul, not clean.”

Frowning at her jumbled words, you poured her more wine, “You’ll find peace soon, dear girl.”

The poison took her mercifully quick.

The bread roll circled and wobbled around your plate after you tossed it aside. You would never allow Claude to get too close to Curtis. You did care for Curtis, probably more than you were comfortable to admit. Besides, there was limited space for suggestions in Curtis’ head. Your voice held residency along with Wilford’s, and even Gilliam’s, words. You weren’t about to give any elbow room for Claude to whisper ideas to Curtis also.

When the train first started its maiden voyage, you tried to remain civil to Claude but she always gave off an air of unearned self-righteousness. And after what Livia told you, civility was barely hanging on.

Growling at your stubbornness, Curtis came closer to your side of the table. “I told you to give me time. Trust me like you trusted in Wilford. I would have given you what wanted soon enough.”

The memory of Livia still fresh in your mind, you snapped back at him, “Loyalty is what you were promised, but I don’t owe you patience or trust.”

Curtis narrowed his eyes at your attitude. He knew he overindulged your unique desires, but disrespect was something he would not allow. “Knock it off, dear wife. Act like a loving spouse and not a mediocre black widow.”

“Mediocre,” you scoffed at his comparison, “I could knock you off, you know. But what good would that do me, Curtis? I’m not sure I have enough poison for everyone on this train. At the moment.”

“You’re acting like a damn brat,” he muttered, annoyed and bitter at the thought you were still only with him for protection.

“I’m not the one continually breaking promises and then asking for the other spouse to keep believing in them,” you countered back, stomping your feet under the table and crossing your arms over your chest again.

“What, did Claude scurry over to you and rat me out?” You slapped your hands on the table and pitched your voice nasally high to mock, “'Oh, I’ll help you great and powerful ruler. I’ll run the meetings for you.‘”

Sneering at what you imagined Claude’s words might have been to him.

“I took out the garbage for you, Curtis. Vardo’s rumors would have hurt you. You could thank me instead of reprimanding me on how you didn’t sign off on this.”

You truly were a murderous brat.

Most passengers didn’t bother to recognize or question that the shiny new conductor next to you was also the dirty blood-covered rebel monster, who smashed through their glasshouse.

Truthfully, most didn’t care as long as their food was warm and their shit was flushed. Some believed so much in Wilford’s vision, they’d never question Wilford’s prophetic news that Curtis was their new conductor.

But some others did want to question. However, they knew better than to ask; except one, your dead dinner companion, Vardo.

Most believed the revolution was squashed and the rebels snuffed out. That the rebellious end-ers were tagged and placed back in their cages.

So when your freshly deceased guest started making inappropriate advances and asking too many questions at too many tables, you invited him to sup at yours.

Because if there was something you knew how to do, it was to tie up loose ends with a soft smile and a kind offer of something to drink. Every time you asked Curtis if you could take Vardo out for dinner, he would only reply- 'Soon.’

You finally got tired of waiting for Curtis’ permission and listening to Vardo’s rumors about the lack of skills the new conductor possessed.

And Curtis’ current lack of thankfulness towards you was pissing you off, “If you want out of the marriage, let me know.”

Curtis frowned at your obscene words, “What are you fucking talking about?”

“I’m not ignorant or daydreamy, Curtis. I know everyone on this train has a purpose and when that purpose or if room runs out, so will my usefulness. Besides, I’m already a shit listener if that dead weight across the table counts for anything. Maybe what I offer isn’t purposeful enough? Maybe we run out of room on the train again and I don’t make it past the cutoff number? Sure I could be safe if the number was 73% like last time. But there’s so many hypothetical questions. Wait, what was that deduction percent again?”

“74.” Curtis answered without a thought but then immediately looked harder at you.

Smirking slightly you carried on, “Ah yes, that’s correct. 74%. See, there wouldn’t be enough room for me. And the inevitable would happen again for Wilford’s wish of order to remain.”

Curtis’ jaw shifted at your words, he knew you were damn well aware the number was 74%. You were always off to prove a fucking point, but he wasn’t about to entertain the idea of you not being by his side. The notion that you could be separated from him brought a jab to his stomach he wouldn’t ignore.

He was owed this companionship, he was owed you.

He owned you.

He knew there was more to you that day during the selection. No hesitation or disdain when he leaned into your proximity. The silent challenge you gave him. There was something behind your expression, something he was still curious about exploring.

When Wilford revealed to him what your role was on the train, Curtis knew he found the connection, a shared portion of darkness. You offered a safe harbor to him for what he had done in the past and an understanding of what he’d have to do in the future.

He swore he wouldn’t lose you to any conflict- mathematical, mechanical, or man.

Curtis called your name as he calmly stacked the dishes in front of you and moved them aside.

He looked too calm to you, especially after walking in on you with a dead body. His features were cool as he nodded for you to give him the teacup sitting out of his reach.

As he continued to pile the dishes down the table towards Vardo’s body, you remembered how well acquainted Curtis was with death. Surviving all those years in the end section and massacring his way up to the front, one mere non-bloodied body wouldn’t give him much pause. It was you not waiting for his permission concerning the execution that soured his mood.

“I want an answer. Why did you do this, when I denied you my approval?”

“There was nothing to approve, I didn’t ask for your consent… this time,” you grumbled softly with admission.

“Oh, I know that dear wife,” he clicked his tongue at your retort. “You’ve been a goddamn worm in my ear about him for weeks but suddenly go radio silent about him? I knew you were up to something.”

“How did you even know I was here working?”

“A few things. The first, Claude mentioned you were having an intimate dinner with someone who wasn’t your husband.”

“Busy-bodied bitch,” you mumbled. “Hardly intimate. As you can see, it was work.”

Leaning forward and removing a sugar cube from the bowl, you tossed it at your dead dinner guest.

Watching it land down the back of his collar, you continued, “It’s been riveting conversation, too. What were the other few things?”

“She isn’t the only busy body here. Don’t waste food,” Curtis picked the sugar cube out of the man’s collar and tossed it in the air, catching it in his mouth.

“It looks like it was plenty intimate to him,” Curtis kicked Vardo’s chair leg with his heavy boot. “Asshole’s sporting a fucking death erection.”

“What?” Sliding your gaze under the table, you saw Vardo’s pants tented. “Pft. That’s just the poison, not the conversation.”

“I still don’t fucking like it, y/n.” Curtis stated darkly.

You shifted in the chair suddenly uncomfortable on where this conversation may lead, especially with the tone he just used. Recalling what he said shortly ago, you tried to move on, “What did you mean about Claude not being the only busy body?”

“I find it surprising you have to ask that, especially when you’re so busy keeping such thorough records of everyone’s conduct.”

Surprised by his discovery, you tried to figure out when he may have found your notebooks. You knew you never mentioned the records you kept concerning the passengers to him, the scorecards on who should receive punishment when they tallied up too many transgressions.

“Wilford told me. Relax, I can hear the gears moving in your head so loudly, they’re drowning out the sound of the train’s.”

“...Why did he?”

“You already know how Wilford explained what your job was to me before I was allowed to pick you. But he told me other things I didn’t mention to you. He said you’d record events, a little homicide journaling. He described it as a dear death diary on why you wanted someone removed. But more fucking importantly, dear wife- he said you always ran punishments by him before carrying them out. But this one, you didn’t run by me.”

Not yet ready for Curtis to know how sincerely you cared for him, you opted for a vague reply, “This was because of personal reasons.”

“Yes, murders usually happen due to those.”

Huffing at his dry reply, you couldn’t help but feel exposed after hearing Curtis read your records. “When did you find them?”

“Two months ago, after Wilford’s death,” he smirked down at you. “I can keep secretes, too. Glad you finally did Vardo in. Took you long enough though.”

“What?” Your head snapped up from shock.

“I read about the inappropriate comments he made to the men and women in the working section. How he made similar comments to you. How they were increasing, making others more uncomfortable. I was pissed to read the fucking things he said to you, but even more when you didn’t come to your husband and say what was happening.”

“Nothing happened, this was work. Trash removal.”

“Oh, I know that dear wife,” Curtis ran his finger down the column of your neck and over your shoulder.

You could feel yourself respond to his touch, goosebumps and tingles.

Curtis leaned into the shell of your ear as he confessed against your skin, “I made sure to encourage him.”

Breaking out of the soft lull his touch put you in, you slapped his hand away and stood. “What are talking about, encouraging? What did you do?”

“I encouraged Vardo to pursue you. Told him to spread the rumors and concerns about me. Told him if he was able to get my wife to cheat on me and expose your lack of loyalty, I’d reward him for exposing the snake in the garden,” Curtis stepped in closer to you, moving his hand back to your neck and tracing the length of your soft throat with this thumb, “He was the snake. Not you, never you.”

You couldn’t believe what Curtis was admitting. “Why would you do that? I haven’t given you any reason to think I’d break my marital agreement to you, Curtis.”

“Not for that reason.”

“Then what reason?!”

“A wedding present.”

“What.”

“You enjoy doing what you do, so I let you, dear wife. Everything you do, I let you do. I read how little you could stand him. Anyone could tell how much you disliked Vardo, except Vardo.” Curtis watched your shock take over as you tried to process everything. “Vardo was stupid. Stupid enough to think he’d gain anything by going after us. After you. I told him to spread the rumors, prove to me how my dear wife wasn’t faithful. He objected, in the beginning, believed it was a trap. But when I offered him the chance to sleep with you- he agreed greedily.”

“…You set him up to see if he would sleep with me?”

“No, sweetheart. I set you up... to see how loyal you’d be to me.”

Snarling at his words, you smacked his hold on you, “Aren’t you just fucking splitting hairs, husband?”

Moving his hand tighter around your neck, you felt his thumb press into your windpipe. “Mind that bratty attitude. Vardo was fucking stupid, not knowing how tail end-ers are possessive. No one gets to covet my wife.”

As he pushed his thumb harder in your skin, you dipped your head back to gain a breath to speak, “You orchestrated all this?”

“You’re welcome,” Curtis lifted his thumb, relieving the pressure on your windpipe as he dropped his lips to your clavicle.

His touch and confession slammed into your core. Gasping at the feel of his lips, your hands wrapped around his wrists, squeezing them to encourage him to keep the pressure on your throat. Lowly moaning when he did.

Curtis knocked his knee between your legs and grazed your center with his thigh. Moving his thigh back and forth against your clothed clit, you bit your lip when you heard him say, “Rub.”

Rolling your hips against him, Curtis chuckled at your pleasure.

“Good girl.”

He dipped you back against the table as he sucked your neck harder between little sharp bites and kisses, “How wet are you, sweetheart? Grinding that pretty pussy against my thigh. I want to see how desperate you are.”

Your hips jolted up, lost in the smooth and steady twisting of his words.

“Fuck,” you gasped out.

Freeing a hand from your neck, Curtis ran his touch down along your body. Sliding his hand under your skirt, he bunched the material up your hips and licked his lips when he saw the large wet spot on your panties. Moving the damp material aside, he grazed his finger along your slick folds.

Your breath hitched at the contact and the darkness in his eyes.

Curtis teasingly twirled his fingers around your inner thighs, lightly circling your clit. “Can you purr?”

Not waiting for an answer, Curtis kissed you and dipped a finger into your pussy.

He bit your lip and hungrily moved to swirl his tongue over yours. Everything was vibrating in you, a fight of dominance and battle for acceptance.

“Come on, sweetheart. Let some of that tension go,” he encouraged, sliding a second finger into you.

Your resistance weakening, the grazing of his thumb circling your clit- you wanted to melt for him.

Bringing a leg up off the table, you hooked it around his waist and mewled at the sensations he was creating in you by the furious rate his fingers worked you.

Curtis began to slowly scissor you, only pausing his kisses to see your reaction better, “Fuck. You’re so beautiful. That’s it, sweetheart, squeeze my fucking fingers.”

“Please,” you whimpered, extending your other leg out as you tried to gain more friction.

He held your hips down against the table, “Look at you, so beautiful and wet. All fucking mine. My fucking reward.”

“I’m going to cum,” you squeezed the words out past your lips as your walls tightened around Curtis’ fingers.

“No, you’re not. Not yet.” Pulling his fingers away from your pussy, Curtis chuckled deeply at your forlorn expression. “I want to be inside you when you do.”

Bringing his wet fingers up to his mouth, he groaned in pleasure from the taste of you before pulling you off the table.

Kissing you possessively, Curtis’ tongue willed for access to your mouth again. You could taste yourself as you feverishly returned his kiss.

Without warning, he turned you around and bent you over the table. Your stomach seizing from the cold surface while your ass was fully on display in the air.

Yelping in surprise you felt Curtis kick your legs farther apart. Stepping between your soft thighs, Curtis grabbed your legs off the floor as your torso warmed the table underneath your skin. You heard him free himself from his pants and groan deeply.

He ran his hands up and down your legs unable to touch enough of you as he moved your knees back. Praising and kneading your ass cheeks, your heels hovered over your bottom as Curtis locked your folded legs underneath each of his arms. You felt his tip run along your slit, the head of his cock parting your wet lips. Grabbing your hips and with one strong thrust without warning, Curtis buried himself into you.

The table shook with every claiming thrust as Vardo’s body rocked against the fine china on the other side of the table. Curtis pinned his eyes on the corpse before dropping his gaze on your back.

Curtis railed into you harder, “Say you’re mine.”

Moaning at his command and losing yourself in him, you only whimpered in reply. You never felt like this before. You moved your hand behind yourself, trying to feel his hips, his hands, anything.

“No.” Curtis grabbed your blindly-reaching hand and covered his over yours, bring them down on the table. Locking you in place again, his stomach brushed against your back. The sounds of his balls slapping against you echoed throughout the dining car. Perched over you with more leverage, Curtis moved faster in and out of your tight cunt.

“Say it,” another snap of his hips, another long hard drag of his cock along your pussy. “Fucking say you’re mine!”

“Yours,” you finally panted out, your face flattened against the tablecloth that was crumpled in your fists. “Always.”

Curtis almost lost himself when he felt you squeeze your walls around his cock, throwing his hard thrusting off.

“Cum for me, sweetheart. Cum right that fuck now. Fucking milk my cock.” His soft-toned, harsh words made you close your eyes as you screamed his name out in release.

Feeling your pussy tighten and flutter around his cock made Curtis bit his lip and drop your legs. Smacking his hands down on either side of your head, he encased your body with his grunts. All you could focus on when you opened your eyes were the muscles of his forearms flexing in your view as he rutted into you.

The sounds of Curtis fucking and using you to chase his release caused your body to tighten up again. Dropping his weight on top of your back, he snapped and slammed his hips into you. His primal moans set a ripple through you, your eyes rolling back as another orgasm took over causing your tight count to flutter around him again.

Growling out your name, he coated your walls, “Mine. You’re mine.”

Opening your eyes with sigh, you laughed softly at the window you and Curtis managed to fog up next to the table.

After catching his breath, Curtis propped his weight onto his forearms and kept himself within you. He wasn’t ready to pull out and let you go just yet.

The cool air hit your skin when slightly move off your back. Bowing down gently, Curtis kissed your sweaty shoulders making you shudder when he rocked against your sensitive core.

Basking in the aftermath of Curtis slowly softening within you, you realized how much you were willing to do to protect your husband. It was no longer just about the train.

“No more secrets between us. Understood, dear wife?”

“Understood, dear husband.”

“Good. It might be time to invite Claude for dinner,” Curtis said before kissing the back of your neck.