#BUT!! you are so right I will ALWAYS make room for alexis to get her shining moment and be the hero of the day

[aberooski]

your trademark is always giving alexis the respect she deserves and having her save atticus in some way shape or form 💫

The way I actually love that so damn much ✋😭/pos

AND I'LL DO IT AGAIN! Y'ALL DON'T EVEN KNOW WHAT'S ALL COOKING IN MY MIND, CIRCLING AROUND AND AROUND IN MY MINDROWAVE 👀

[queenie-the-court-jester]

slumber party!

Yandere friend group x fem!reader

Tw: none that I can think of, reader is mentioned to have a childhood author randomly thought of, you can change it in your mind if you like. Not proofread 🌺

⭐you grew up with your friends, having known eachother since diapers! Your parents often left you in a daycare since they were busy with their jobs, and that's how you met Cassidy. A bright and cheerful girl, capable of lighting up a room with her toothy smile. When she saw you crying in a corner, missing your parents, she hastily snatched a couple of crayons and rushed over. Sitting next to you and holding out a pudgy hand, offering the red crayon.

"hi! I'm Cassidy! But you can call me cassie.. what's your name?"

🛍️ skipping a few years, you and Cassidy were in first grade. Obsessing over my little pony and worms, when suddenly you came across Michelle. A prickly girl you've known since kindergarten, but she was always too stuck up and bossy to ever get along with anyone. She held out a chocolate with a furrowed brow, looking flustered as she moved from side to side, the way your choir teacher hated

"can.. may i.. play with you, please..?" You swore you could hear your homeroom teacher cheering in the background

🎀it was 4th grade, you, Michelle and cassidy were in that ripe age where all boys were Icky and gross and had all types of nasty cooties. The constant squabbling and booger picking you'd see from the aforementioned solidly confirmed it. You spotted the new girl, Vivian getting harassed by the class weirdo, some Asian fetishizer. So you bravely stood up, walked over.. and tripped on your untied shoe laces, landing face first into the carpeted floor. Viv gasped and quickly rushed over to you, making sure you were alright before letting out a soft giggle

"you should be more careful.. you're y/n right? You have a very lovely name"

💀 7th grade, the emo and dragon ball z kids were making themselves known. You were laying on the classroom floor, resting your head in Vivian's lap as Michelle dangled a vine of grapes Infront of your mouth. Giggling when you obediently opened and bit one off. The giggling stopped and you opened your eyes to see a hot topic magazine boy standing over you all.

"hey! You on the other girls lap! You're my girlfriend now." "...what."

After the boy almost got his shit rocked by your scarily protective friends, you Introduced yourself "y/n" "kiross.." the girls were glaring daggers at him

💕 9th grade, you were starting to see a pattern, a new member of your group joins every few years. So you were preparing yourself mentally, all while Talking and suddenly turning around to walk backwards. Not noticing the boy you were just about to bump into. Your friends quickly rushed forward to try and catch your ass, but it was no use. You fell straight into.. a soft body. The boy you fell ontop of blinked owlishly, before realizing it was you and giving a devilish grin. surprisingly he looked hotter than most guys in your class

"haha, looks like god answered my prayers to send me an angel, my name's Alexis. Nice to meet you"

🔪12th grade came, soon you'd be free from the hell hole known as public high school. You clinged and sobbed in Cassidy's arms, only 6 more months to go. Whining something about not having a boyfriend, ignoring how offended kaiross looked. You dramatically fell to your knees and held your hands clasped together towards the sky, yelling that you wanted a hot hunk and you wanted him right now... Only for an incredibly heavy object to land straight into your back. Sending you both to the ground as the thing made a grunt. Looking up, you damn near had a nosebleed to see the hottest man you've ever seen, daichio

"ah.. sorry pretty girl, you okay down there?" "yeah.. more than okay.." "alright break it up! No soliciting"

⭐after daichio joined, tensions rose in the little friend haven. Vivian and Michelle would squabble over anything involving you, daichio would purposely provoke kaiross to a fight, alexis would pick on Cassidy for always being so close to you. Until you finally had enough. Giving them the biggest tongue lashing they ever had as you yelled at them to be normal people for once and get along

🛍️...maybe it would have been better if they kept fighting, because now they were a hive mind. After secretly talking behind your back, Daichio and kaiross were like your guards dogs since they had the most muscle. Cassidy was your right hand, Alexis being your tutor. Vivian was your emotional support human, and Michelle was your fashion critic and healthy lifestyle planner. You didn't really mind since now they stopped being little bitches and you had free unpaid workers like Kim Kardashian

🎀you didn't even realize when your group suddenly started gathering attention. Becoming the most popular in the span of a few weeks, how? You didn't know. And quite frankly you didn't want to know. You just wanted a partner, good grades and a scholarship. Looks like your getting all three. People often crowded around your table or desk, trying to get all buddy buddy with you. Just for a little recognition. Your friends were docile until, well, the confessions came rolling in. But that's another story

Fun facts:

Cassidy goes by she/them and is a very friendly person. Naturally, people confess to her everyday but she only has eyes for you, bisexual!

Michelle's mom is a cop, and her dad a businessman so she comes from a somewhat well off family. She likes to go on shopping sprees and gives you any clothes she doesn't want, a lesbian in denial

Vivian is soft spoken and shy, wherever you are rest assured she's close behind, pansexual

kiross is inlove with you and it's very obvious, it's just that nobody brings it up, he goes by he/them and bisexual

Alexis is very demanding, you could consider him a female version of Michelle. Sometimes mich gives him any clothes she doesn't want, pansexual!

Daichio is a playboy and is good friends with kameron, he speaks English, japanese and currently learning Spanish, straight asshole. BORINGG

[iheartmapi]

Get Gone (pt.2 to “Teddy Bear”)

Alexia Putellas x Reader

Summary: Alexia had crossed another line, and you couldn’t let it be like this anymore.

Angst, no comfort ig

TW: none

Word count: 1,185

Your eyes flickered around the restaurant you were patiently waiting in for the past 30 minutes.

The situation is easy to guess, you were waiting for Alexia, since she herself proposed a date today to you a week ago. Yet she wasn’t showing up. Sweat painted your hands, you wanted to finally catch a glimpse of her blonde hair somewhere in the crowd of waiters and other clients, you tried texting her, perhaps she got stuck in traffic or something else happened to her?

You hoped it was only something of innocent nature…Alexia wouldn’t stand you up after all, right?

More time passed and passed, but to no avail Alexia hadn’t appeared in the restaurant. Tears were begging to be let out of your eyes, it was hard keeping yourself in check and not crying a river right there in public but you at least managed to get back to your car before breaking down in tears.

You went back home, your sadness slowly morphed into anger towards Alexis, lately you’ve been wondering if this relationship even had any chance of salvation. She didn’t return till late in the evening. You were sitting in the living room, your arms crossed as you saw her drop her bag down on the floor. Not even a “sorry”, “hey” or “how are you was dropped, let alone one single look at you. You wanted to scream at her, make a mess of the apartment, claw at her skin pull your hair anything..but she’d just turn a blind eye to it anyway, it’s as if you were invisible, when you were around her she treated you like mist, she just didn’t care.

“Why?” You then spoke up, your cheeks got a reddish tint to them, as well as your eyes which were letting tears fall. You cried silently, just looking at her as she turned around to face you as if she had no clue what you meant by ‘why’

“What are you talking about?” Alexia’s brow furrowed, her gaze said it all, she was looking at you as if you were some mad woman that should be institutionalised for her over-sensitivity. “Why don’t you love me anymore?” You choked out the question you had wanted to ask her for the past few months.

“Y/n-“ Alexia begun with a tired voice, “No” you cut in “Don’t ‘Y/n’ me, you know it’s the truth” And she probably did, Alexia stood in place, her eyes diverted from yours.

“I wanted this to work, I really did, and we had our happy years didn’t we? But you changed Alexia, you don’t give a shit about me anymore.” Your voice broke here and there, a thousand words and sentences were running through your brain, so fast it made you feel like it was frying.

“I thought about this so many times, thought about all the things I wanted to say to you…but now I can’t, there’s so many of them I can’t keep up, you had done me so bad, so many times..so many times I forgave you quietly, but I can’t do it anymore”

“What the hell do you mean?” She barked at you, “So you’re gonna break up with me? Because of some dumb things I did? God you’re impossible-“ The blonde shook her head “Stop it! For fuck’s sake stop it! That’s why I’ve been holding back, cause you always do this, I’m always the bad guy whilst you’re a martyr.” Your hands clutched your head “And dumb things? You cal treating me as if I didn’t exist dumb things? You stood me up, and the best part is this wasn’t the first time” It was clear Alexia was trying to come up with some cheeky answer, one that’d shut you up, but to no avail.

“This is the end” you said now more quietly, “I’m leaving, don’t contact me again” with that you made your way to your now past shared bedroom. Another minute spent in this goddamn place was going to drive you mad, so swiftly you grabbed your clothes and other belongings, not caring to fold them, just to get them into your bags. Alexia soon stormed in after you. “This is fucking crazy!” She yelled, “You can’t do this to me!” Her arms were swaying around, she was mad, furious even.

“You did much worse to me” you muttered “You don’t deserve to be mad at me Alexia”

As you grabbed your now packed bags you looked at her for the last time together, “Goodbye” and that was it, the end.

A few weeks had passed now, you bought yourself a flat since you sold your old one before moving in with Alexia. You recall breathing the fresh air, the wind blowing through your hair when you left Alexia, the world around you felt different, alone and freeing. Later a part of you was screaming at you that you chose the wrong option, but you couldn’t get back with Alexia, not after everything.

Years of a good relationship, and then years of a ruin that was your ‘love’. There was no denying that a small percentage of you, still loved her, but you couldn’t be with her if all you were going to get was a one-sided romance.

Alexia messaged you, one message that read ‘meet me at the pier, you know which one. 7pm, I’ll be there.”

You sighed internally, you were gonna give her one last chance to speak to you, whatever it is she wanted, all you knew was that there was no getting back ever again.

It was dark already, the sky turning into a deep navy blue transcending into black. As you walked down the wooden pier, some happy moments from your time together came flooding back. You knew this had to be the pier she wanted to see you at, and as you walked further down you could make out a woman’s figure in the distance, as you got closer you quickly recognised it was indeed Alexia.

She was leaning against the pier’s fence, looking into the deep blue sea, you stood next to her, glancing into the water as well

“What is it that you wanted to talk about?” You then asked, not looking back at her, and you could feel that she wasn’t observing you either. “Can’t we make this right?” She said after a minute “Alexia…” you sighed, “I told you”

“I can change, Y/n” she was still pleading for you to change your mind. “I’m sorry, but I just can’t believe you, we’re done, and that’s it. If we get back together either you or me are still gonna get hurt” You knew well that it was definitely you who was going to get hurt…but you weren’t here to talk about it, all you had wanted was to deliver the message clearly.

“Y/n..” she mumbled, “I’m sorry Alexia” you simply stated, “Have a good night.” You pushed yourself off the fence, walking off, towards the parking lot to your car. As you walked, you hadn’t looked back at Alexia.

You were better off not being together.

[sunsburns]

kiss of life (iii.)

pairing: luke castellan x aphrodite!daughter reader

masterlist

summary: you have never doubted aphrodite when it comes to soulmates, she's the goddess of love, she knows what she's doing and you're getting pretty sick of people telling you she's made a mistake with your soulmate, specifically. you refuse to believe that she could be wrong, but luke castellan is making it really hard for you to have hope.

—or: you and luke are off on your quest you're totally not having second thoughts about choosing him, he's your soulmate after all... right?

word count: 3.2k

warnings: filler chapter (sorry gang), reader's pov, reader is lowkey unreliable and is hiding something, pre-tlt, luke's character is kinda inconsistent but whatever, angsty fight with luke and reader, low-key happy ending

a/n: everyone might've moved on but i'm still here 😔… gang i think i’m coming back to my active era (no one cheered) anyways there’s so much i wanna write for this series so enjoy this little filler!

You'd always been a fan of bad ideas, but choosing Luke Castellan as your companion for the duration of your quest had to be your worst one yet. You felt a pang of doubt, questioning your choice, especially after witnessing the outcome of his quest—a failure that seemed impossible to shake off from the whispers of other campers. A failure your siblings wouldn't let you forget.

"I was there when he came back. I know what happened," you muttered, frustration creeping into your voice as you stuffed clothes into your bag.

Your siblings meant the world to you. You cherished the bond you shared—the familial camaraderie that bound your cabin together. As the eldest, you revelled in guiding and nurturing them, relishing the role of guardian and friend within your cabin's close-knit circle. Yet, like any family, they can sometimes be suffocatingly overbearing.

Alexis, your brother, ever ready to smack a reality check, had been the first to warn you against choosing Luke Castellan, and now he spearheaded a group of your siblings, all urging you to reconsider with reason.

"But that's just it. You don't know. Not really. None of us do." Alexis told you, reclining against the shared vanity in your cabin. The absence of the younger kids, off with Chiron for a lesson on constellations, offered you some peace of mind, sparing them from witnessing the escalating intervention.

As Silena sifted through the clothes strewn across your bed, her soft humming filled the room, a stark contrast to the weighty silence that hung over the conversation. "No one but Chiron and Mr. D knows what happened on that quest. He refuses to talk about it." she mused.

"There's not a lot of glory in that." Alexis shrugged, a smirk playing at the corners of his lips.

"He's been so weird and different since he returned," Silena added, "I remember he used to smile. It was such an attractive smile. And he used to talk... He barely ever talks anymore."

Alexis snorted, "That's called depression, Silena."

"It's just so sad." She frowned and sat on your bed, her gaze distant, "Pretty people don't deserve to be depressed."

"Amen to that."

You couldn't help but roll your eyes at their melodramatic exchange, a fleeting smile tugging at the corners of your lips as you focused on folding another pair of pants. 

"He still talks." You said.

"But it's not the same," Alexis countered, his expression grave. Deep down, you knew he was right.

"And the way he's treated you," Silena scoffed, "constantly icing you out..."

"Avoiding you for months..." Alexis added, stepping closer to you with a solemn expression. "Refusing to even talk to you."

When he tried to put his hand on your shoulder, you couldn't help but shrug it off, not wanting his sympathy.

Their reminders, well-intentioned though they may be, served only to deepen the wound already festering within you. Like a knife twisted in your back, the memories of Luke's avoidance and unanswered questions pierced your thoughts with relentless precision. You vividly recalled the disappointment etched across his face in the infirmary, a silent testament to his dismay upon discovering your role in his fate. The weight of his unspoken words hung heavily in the air, a haunting reminder of the rift that had formed between you before it even started.

Your siblings were very careful with their next words: "Do you think that maybe... just this once... Aphrodite got it wrong?"

With a heavy heart, you stormed out of the cabin, your mind reeling with conflicting emotions. You swore up and down to Alexis and Silena that you were fine, that you only needed air. The need for clarity drove you to seek solace in the quiet embrace of nature, the gentle flicker of a breeze offering a touch of comfort amidst the turmoil raging within.

Throughout your life, your unwavering loyalty to your mother, Aphrodite, and the Gods has been a source of solace and guidance. You found comfort in the subtle manifestations of them, from the celestial dance of stars to the gentle caress of sunlight filtering through the trees. Even in the casual interactions of everyday life, you sought traces of your mother's hand guiding your path.

As you gazed into the dancing flames, the remnants of fruit smouldering in their fiery embrace in a tin can, you found yourself caught between hope and despair during your offering for your mother. Silena's words echoed in your mind, a harsh truth you were reluctant to confront. Maybe you didn't have a soulmate. Maybe it was a mistake. Maybe you're unlovable.

Yet, amidst the cloud of doubt, a flicker of defiance ignited within you. The mere thought that Aphrodite could be mistaken in matters of love seemed impossible to you. You had witnessed firsthand the intricate tapestry of fate woven by her hand, guiding souls to their destined counterparts with unfailing precision. 

The yearning for that connection, that soul-deep bond, burned within you like a beacon in the darkness of uncertainty. It was a desire as old as time itself, the longing to find solace and belonging in the embrace of another.

As the flames dwindled to embers, their dying glow casting flickering shadows upon the ground, your prayers went unanswered. 

The weight of your impending quest pressed upon you like a heavy cloak. Questions tumbled over one another in a relentless cascade, each one a dagger aimed at the heart of your resolve. Where would you need to go? Would you need to defend yourself? Would monsters come after you? Should you choose someone else? Could it be that Luke was nothing to you but a mistaken thread tethered into your life?

Your shoes stepped over twigs and dry leaves on the ground until you stepped out of the forest. Passing by the armoury, you forced a smile upon your lips. You forced yourself to be excited for your first quest rather than dread it. It was a rare privilege bestowed upon a child of Aphrodite, you should honour it.

As you approached the heart of camp again, the familiar clang of sword meeting dummy rumbled through the night air. The rhythmic sound, though commonplace in the realm of demigod training, carried an ominous weight under the cover of darkness. You would have assumed that all campers were asleep.

Luke Castellan, a boy who had become synonymous with the darker days since his return from his quest, stood amidst the training grounds, his silhouette illuminated by the pale moonlight. The sight of him, bathed in the ghostly shine, was haunting. With each precise strike of his sword, a muted testament to the rage that plagued his restless spirit, he seemed to exude an aura of both determination and despair.

No wonder you were so exhausted.  

You dared not meet his gaze, instead keeping your head bowed as you navigated the familiar path through the training grounds. Every fibre of your being screamed for you to move faster, yet the pull of his presence was undeniable. Despite your best efforts to remain unseen, Luke's voice cut through the night, calling out your name with a sense of urgency that sent a shiver down your spine.

Shit.

With a sinking heart, you felt his hand land on your shoulder, stopping your escape. You couldn't avoid him now. Turning to face him, you were met with a sight that mirrored the restlessness within your own soul. His features, etched with lines of weariness and frustration, betrayed the weight of the burdens he carried.

You were distracted by the way he was looking at you. Brows furrowed, his lips turned and pulled into that permanent frown that had you wondering if he had ever smiled since he came back. Yet, despite the weight of his solemn expression, there was a flicker of something in his eyes – a glint of warmth, of familiarity, that almost stirred a faint glimmer of hope within you.

Almost. 

"You're making a mistake." He insisted. "You need to choose someone else for your quest."

You tried not to seem too disappointed. "I can't pick anyone else." You protested, and he raised his brows at you, doubtful. "The Oracle told me to choose you."

"She told you to-?" A scoff escaped him, "The Oracle doesn't tell you who to choose. She doesn't say anything about who you should bring-"

"Luke-"

"The Oracle tells you what your quest is, then a weird riddle about something that will happen on your quest that will put you on edge the entire time."

Luke had stepped closer to you as he spoke as if his words would've sunk into your head clearer if you could hear them better. He spoke to you a lot that way, hoping you'd cling to every word he had to say; good and bad. Mostly bad.

The Oracle's cryptic words lingered in your mind. She had not revealed much about your quest, offering no subtle hints or insights into Eros' whereabouts to make your life easier. Instead, her assurance that success hinged on bringing Luke Castellan along had left you grappling with uncertainty. "He has all the answers you seek," she had urged, her words echoing with a weight that you struggled to comprehend.

"It has to be you."

"What else did she say?"

You hesitated. "That's it," you replied, your words falling short.

"That's it?" He didn't believe you.

"Just a few hints of where Eros might be, I guess." The lie slipped from your lips effortlessly. 

He caught it quickly but never urged you to admit it. Luke remained silent, his expression unreadable as he mulled over your words. 

You sort of wished he fought you over it.

You wished he'd do anything with you. At least try to.

"If you don't want to come with me, that's fine," you conceded, "I'm leaving tomorrow morning, with or without you."

"Really? You'll just leave?"

The bitterness in his tone was unmistakable. Yet, despite the resentment that coloured his words, there was a flicker of something in his eyes – a glimmer of regret, perhaps, or maybe resignation. It only annoyed you further.

Luke Castellan was possibly the most confusing person you've ever met. He didn't want to join you on your quest, but you couldn't leave without him either? What's his fucking deal?

He intrigued and frustrated you, like some curse had been placed upon you, and you wanted to understand every part of him while he wanted nothing to do with you. Perhaps Aphrodite was being cruel when she chose him as your soulmate, but you weren't any better when you put him in the position of joining you on your quest.

"I don't know you." You admitted the words hanging heavy in the air between you. "You've made a really good effort to make sure that I don't know anything about you. I did my part. I picked you. If you don't want to come, that's... fine."

It pained you to say it. You did not want to go alone, but you weren't going to force someone to accompany you who clearly didn't want to be there. However, the uncertainty of what lay beyond the safety of the camp walls loomed large in your mind. You haven't left the protection of the camp in years, you weren't sure of what was out there other than the stories the summer campers would tell you, of their close calls and near misses. 

Luke Castellan was the perfect example of what leaving camp does to someone.

Despite the weight of your decision, you held your head high as you turned on your heels. You doubted Luke had anything more to say; he was a man of few words, after all.

You left him there, just as he left you by the docks for months. And then you lied to yourself, clung to the belief that your mother, Aphrodite, would safeguard your journey and that your brother, Eros, awaited your rescue.

And so, the next morning, after bidding your tearful goodbyes to your siblings and friends and earning a proud pat on the back from Chiron, you swallowed your pride and left.

The Oracle's words were etched into the very fabric of your being, a relentless mantra that monopolized your thoughts as you trudged toward the top of the hill and left the safety of campgrounds. Each step forward was a testament to your determination, each footfall a declaration of your unwavering commitment to the quest ahead.

As you climbed, you couldn't help but imagine the faces of campers upon your return. You pictured the awe in their eyes, the pride in their voices, and most of all, the look on Luke's face when he realized the extent of your lone success, his disbelief mingling with a begrudging respect.

"Hey-"

The sound of your name startled you out of your thoughts. You were trudging through the grass when you spotted a body sitting under a pine tree, shaded from the sun by its leaves.

Luke looked up at you, frowning, "Took you long enough."

His dishevelled dark curls fell over his eyes, a stark contrast against the vibrant greenery surrounding him. With a resigned sigh, he rose to his feet, his movements fluid yet tinged with an air of impatience Luke picked up a bag by his side, tossing it over his shoulder. It wasn't until he emerged from the tree's shade that you noticed the subtle changes in his attire. Gone was the signature orange camp shirt, replaced instead by a more subdued navy tee that hugged his frame. His old cargo pants remained the same, but different nonetheless.

Eyeing his bag, you could spot smaller daggers strapped to the sides, prepared for anything. It took you a few seconds to process why he was there. You squint at the sun as he steps out from under the tree. "You came."

He huffed, "Obviously."

You let out a breathless chuckle, maybe one of relief since honestly, despite everything you'd been trying to convince yourself of, you were terrified to leave on your own. 

"Why?" you asked, your voice betraying a hint of uncertainty as you adjusted the straps of your own bag. The question hung in the air, unanswered. Of course. You almost rolled your eyes as Luke began to descend the other side of the hill. With a fleeting glance over his shoulder, he wordlessly beckoned you to join him by tilting his head to the side impatiently.

You grinned then, wide and bright. "I know I said I didn't care if you came or not, but I'm glad you're here."

He showed no sign of acknowledgment of your sentiment, his gaze fixed ahead as he continued to walk once you joined his side.

As the minutes stretched on in silence, broken only by the rhythmic crunch of leaves underfoot, you found yourself lost in thought. It was only when the distant hum of passing cars reached your ears, their blurred forms darting through the forest's fringe, that you were jolted back to the present.

Drawing to a halt near the forest's edge, you felt the weight of uncertainty settle upon you. With a hesitant pause, you turned to face Luke, the question that had been gnawing at your mind poised on the tip of your tongue.

"Why'd you stop?" He asked.

"I just..." Your voice wavered, uncertainty lacing your words as you struggled to articulate your thoughts. You worried that if you said the wrong thing he'd leave you stranded right there and return to camp while the two of you were still walking distance from it. It annoyed you a little; how much you had to walk on eggshells with him.

You couldn't help but wonder how different things might have been if you hadn't chosen him. You were being stupid when you picked him, you decided. You already regret it. Maybe Luke was right, the Oracle was just trying to get into your head.

"What made you change your mind? About coming on the quest?" you finally managed to voice, your eyes meeting his in search of answers.

He looked at you, brown eyes flitting over your expression, before licking his lips and simply stating: "If you break an arm, so do I."

That had been the closest Luke Castellan had ever been to admitting he had a soulmate.

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[wttcsms]

good morning or afternoon or evening. please think abt my kaiser fic and how you're the only person - save for his father - who knows who he really is, who knows the sad little boy he used to be. even when he's at the top of the world, there's a lingering thought in the back of his mind (you're always on his mind). the little rich heiress whose family owned a chain of supermarkets all over germany. in the harsh winter, when he was dressed in rags of clothing he's long since outgrown, you were waddling around in fur coats with your hair adorned in ribbons and bows.

and when you caught him stealing, you didn't say a single thing.

you start leaving things for him to take. you even wrap the items up nicely, with ribbons and bows, and it reminds him of your hair and you. how pathetic he must be, to have to depend on your kindness, your gifts. even when he snaps at you, you never condemned him. you never stopped being kind. kaiser doesn't know what to do with this information; he only knows that the warm feeling he gets from being around you isn't entirely awful. because it makes him feel less guilty for benefitting from your kindness, he swears that he'll pay you back. "it's a gift." you tell him, and he scowls.

he's never been given gifts before. he doesn't want to start now. he's adamant he owes you one, and he knows that in his current state, he can't pay you back, the girl who has everything, but one day — one day, he'll be able to call things even between you two.

but after the accusations and him getting thrown into jail, him being recruited to play for bastard; it all happened so fast, he didn't get a chance to tell you to not expect him again. it probably wouldn't have mattered, anyway. you look like the type to take in any stray; he was just the filthy mutt that caught your attention for a while, right?

fast forward to now: you're calling your childhood best friend, sobbing, begging him for help. "alexis, can i stay with you?" running away from home, you end up sleeping on the couch of alexis ness's studio apartment. when kaiser walks in, ready to head to the gym with ness, he freezes.

he could recognize you anywhere. you live a private life, but as an heiress, there's the occasional article of you. he's sustained himself by living off of the glimpses of you photographers manage to capture. you still have a blue bow tangled in your hair.

then you turn in your sleep, revealing the bruises on your neck, as if someone had tried to — succeeded, really — in strangling you. kaiser would be able to tell.

when you wake up, you're instantly confronted by the ghost from your past. pitifully, you explain it all: you're set to enter a marriage of convenience. the marks around your neck are a gift from your fiancé, your husband-to-be. it's a reminder that he's kind enough to keep you around, so you better get your act together. now that you've run away from home, you can't return. your family doesn't know what you've had to endure; all they see is a spoiled brat running away from her responsibilities. you're entirely cut off, with no access to your credit cards or bank accounts, and now you're in a foreign country with the only familiar faces being him and ness.

kaiser seems colder than he used to be. more jaded, even more guarded than before. he scoffs, takes in your pitiful state, and then he has to look away.

"i'll take care of you." he leaves no room for argument. "i owe you, after all."

[bitchinbarzal]

thirteen | Mat Barzal

summary: the little green monster comes out when you’re wearing another jersey.

-

You and Mat had an argument about Mat’s newfound friendship with the new islanders presenter.

You’d seen them after one of his games, they were no longer filming their interview and instead were just talking.

Admittedly, you felt a pang of jealousy watching the scene unfold before you but then it all came to a head when you returned home and mentioned it to him.

He blew up, accusing you of thinking he was cheating, that you didn’t trust him. Essentially just blaming you for this whole argument.

You didn’t retaliate, opting to get your side out another way. Because when he goes low, you go lower.

So when the rangers found themselves at UBS arena, you were wearing blue.

“He’s gonna kill you” Sydney laughed as she found you at the bar, looking at your jersey before catching the name and number on the back.

“Oh my god! He’s gonna really kill you!”

You laugh and do a twirl for her “Like?”

“What did he do?”

You giggled and explained the situation to her “Oh my god, what a dick! Also she has totally been making the eyes at Matt this week too I get where you’re coming from”

“Right?!” You say, holding onto her arm as you both laugh about the situation.

In the suite, Alexis found you and looked at your jersey with wide eyes “Oh he fucked up!”

“Very!” Syd adds from her seat in the front and you smile at her playfully before turning to Alexis

“Me and Mat had a fight and I’m giving him a taste of his own medicine”

“Oh girl don’t explain! I’m on your side!”

The game is rough, as per usual when these two teams meet during the season.

Mat’s never one to get involved in the fighting, typically just sitting and looking pretty which you liked because it meant you were never worried about him.

That was until the period break, Mat was pulled for yet another interview by her. In which she showed him a fab picture of you in your rangers jersey

“So Mat, we hear your girlfriend is repping the Rangers tonight or better yet repping another number thirteen?!”

He looks confused until she shows him the image, his eyes immediately filling with anger.

There you were standing at the bar, in his arena wearing your ex boyfriends jersey. The name Lafrenière where Barzal usually sits.

“Uh… I didn’t know” he laughs it off but anyone who knows him can see his mind running a million miles a minute.

As soon as the interview is done he’s having to go back out, no time to text you and tell you to take it off.

Instead he goes out on the ice like a raging bull.

You watch from your spot in the box as the puck drops and Mat heads strait for Alexis on the ice, taking him straight to the floor.

You gasp as they hit the ground and begin fighting.

It doesn’t last long, Mat being sent to the box straight after. You see his face on the jumbotron, his nose is bent the wrong way and there’s blood rolling down his cheek.

You don’t say anything else, simply curling into yourself and thinking about what you’d caused. It was meant to be harmless, just a way to get back at mat for what he’d said but now his nose was broken, you felt horrible and you’re sure Alexis was out for the rest of the game.

Mat always had a jealous streak in him, from day one. You met at an event where you were Alexis’ date, Mathew introduced himself to you and immediately fell.

He waited months, scrolling through your socials for the day you’d be single and when he finally heard you had broken up he grasped the opportunity but that didn’t stop the comments and his own insecurities getting to him about your relationship.

By the end of the game you’re not celebrating like the rest of the girls, you silently made your way down to wait for Mat.

When he comes out of the locker room sporting a wrapped nose you wince. He looks at your jersey and growls

“Take it off for fuck sake”

“I don’t have anything on underneath” you mumble, the sleeves now crumbled up into your palms as you clutch them anxiously.

He doesn’t respond just walking to the car, you begin walking behind him. There was no congratulations kiss, no conversation as you sat in the car silently as he drove back to your apartment in Manhattan.

Traffic was bad which didn’t help Mat’s mood.

You tried to turn on the radio but he muted it immediately.

It wasn’t until you got to sunnyside when Mat said

“I would never hurt you like this”

You turn to him, his eyes still on the road

“Mat I’m sorry… I was annoyed about the whole-“

“I told you there was nothing happening between us! You were the one convinced I was doing something”

“I know that! And I just wanted to give you a taste of your own medicine!”you shouted, angry he wasn’t listening.

“Giving me a taste of my own medicine? y/n he was your fiancé… do you think I don’t feel bad about that? That you were actually so in love with him you wanted to marry him at one point!”

You sunk into the seat of the Range Rover and mumbled “Yeah well now I see it was a stupid idea”

Arriving at your apartment, Mat waited for you to get out and you asked “Are you coming in?”

“I’m going back to Long Island. I think maybe we were a mistake”

Your heart dropped in your chest and you leaned back into the car “Mat I’m sorry ok! It was stupid and I’m so sorry-“

“I’ve told you how he makes me feel y/n and you threw it in my face, in public infront of everyone to see and you embarrassed me. I don’t think I want to go through life constantly worried about everything and feeling insecure”

Tears were rolling down your cheeks “Mat please… I’m so sorry baby it’s only you, I’ll take it off, I’ll stop with the games just please-“

“I love you, but I’ve got to protect myself first” he says, starting the car again and waiting for you to step away before he drives off back home.

Leaving you standing there watching the Range Rover leave, your heart going with it.

[ilypaigebuckets]

could you write something about Caitlin based on so high school by Taylor?

literally same wavelength bc i was thinking abt writing this last night that’s crazy!!! i hope you like it! as always my reqs are open for you guys :) feel free to request any scenarios, hcs, prompts, etc <3

pairing: cc x reader

plot summary: caitlin gets asked a question about her girlfriend at a post game interview and it takes her back to her high school years with you.

➖➖➖➖➖➖➖➖➖➖➖➖➖➖➖➖➖➖➖

“So Caitlin,” an interviewer questions, “you were on fire tonight on the court. What gives you that drive and that power to keep pushing through?” Caitlin tightened her ponytail and cocked her head to the side, thinking of an answer.

“I couldn’t have done it without the support of my family, teammates and of course my Coach. But there’s something else, well someone else, that definitely has played a huge part into my success over the years. My beautiful girl Y/N. She’s supported me through everything, ever since I’ve known her. She’s just this ball of sunshine that’s just..just my everything. She’s been my biggest supporter and being around her just makes me feel like so..i don’t know so high school, I guess?” Caitlin chuckles at the end of her sentence, thinking back to get when first fell for you

I. I want to find you in a crowd just to hide from you.

It was your junior year of high school when you started to get close with Caitlin. You were a new student and had sat by her in her chem class. She took a liking to you immediately. You weren’t exactly the science type, your forte being more English and History; Language composition, Aristotle, socratic seminars, those were your thing. You came right as basketball season was starting and Caitlin saw this as a perfect opportunity to get closer with the pretty girl in her chem.

“Hey! Super random but are you a basketball fan?” Caitlin questioned you, “I have a game today if you want come”.

“I mean it’s not really my thing, but I’d love to come support you!” You replied cheerfully.

Fast forward to the game, your schools team won 58-67, thanks to Caitlin and her amazing skills.

Caitlin’s teammates surrounded her, but all she could think about was the pretty girl in her chemistry class that came to watch her. Just her. She searched for you in the crowd until she finally saw you. She was to scared for your eyes to meet, and quickly looked away. She hurried back to the locker room with her cheeks pink underneath the gymnasium’s twinkling lights. She wiped the sweat off her forehead and checked her phone.

Y/N💕

you were great tonight! thanks for the invite ;)

Caitlin buried her head in her hands. You were going to be the death of her.

2. I’ll drink what you think and I’m high

Later that year, Caitlin took you out to a house party. She thought it would be a great way to get you out of your shell and meeting new people. Not in a romantic sense of course, she already had dibs on you and everyone except her knew it.

At the party you both declined any drinks offered to you, wanting to stay clean and level headed for your first official “hangout” together. Despite staying sober, Caitlin was cracking up at every one of your jokes. You continued them just to see her smile.

“Wonder how much Cait’s had to drink.” One of her teammates said. “Not a drop,” another replied.

The latter was right. Caitlin Clark was simply drunk on love.

3. Are you gonna Marry, Kiss, or Kill me?

The end of your junior year, Caitlin took you to another party. You two were crushing and crushing hard, but hadn’t made anything official yet.

One of your mutual friends suggested you play a game of kiss, marry, kill and being bored out of your minds, you all complied. “So Y/N, kiss, marry, kill. Caitlin, Alexis, and Joshua.” You didn’t skip a beat and replied instantaneously.

“Easy peasy. Cait for all three.”

“WHAT?!” Caitlin shrieked, “You wanna kill me?!” looking at you with an expression of mock horror.

“Well, you can’t pick 2 and not the other. So technically I have no other choice.” You looked at her sweetly.

“Actually I think the point of the game is you assign one name to either kiss, marry, or kill.” Your mutual friend started, “But I’ll let it slide for you two lovebirds.”

4. Touch me while your boys play GTA.

It was your high school senior year. Caitlin’s basketball team was having a relaxed hangout at her house, playing video games. You had made your relationship official over the summer, and were excited to see what this school year had in store for you both.

You and Caitlin were snuggled up together under a blanket on her couch, while her teammates sat on the ground below playing Grand Theft Auto, a game you knew nothing about. You and Caitlin stared at each other intensely and suddenly you jumped in your seat. The hand on your thigh had shocked you, Caitlin had always seemed so PG to you. You looked up at her with an “are you crazy?!” look on your face. She used her free hand to put up her pointer finger to her mouth as if to shush you.

You weren’t quick ready to take things further than that, never having had anybody the way you’d had her before. She of course respected you and gave you a kiss on the forehead, and then proceeded to get up. “Okay guys, time for me to show you why Y/N calls me the Grand Theft Auto Annihilator.”

“Dude. I have never in my life thought about calling you that.”

5. I’m hearing voices, like a madman.

Freshman year of college and you both had committed to the University of Iowa. The two of you had, of course, decided to room together, and were happy and content with how everything had worked out for you too.

Living together proved to be somewhat challenging at first, with Caitlin being quite messy with her things. She was usually level-headed and wasn’t one to start fights, but God forbid you mention something about her not keeping her side of your room clean. Her D1 ego would not allow you to.

That day you two had bickered about Caitlin not doing the dishes like she’d promised to. “Caitlin. There’s literally 3 dishes in the sink, and you said you’d do them. C’mon man.” You said to her, half joking in an attempt to get her to listen without arguing. But Caitlin had already had a stressful morning and was not in the mood. “I’ll do them after,” She spoke curtly. “I have practice.” She jumped up, grabbed her bag, and stalked out of the dorm.

During practice, she was a mess. She kept missing shots. “Serves her right,” She thought to herself, “Little Miss ‘Oh I’m Y/N yes I’m so clean and proper lalalala-” Caitlin paused as she realized how absolutely ridiculous she sounded. She reminded herself of you whenever you did impressions of your dad. In an instant she busted into a fit of giggles, sharing her thought with her teammates so they could laugh too.

After practice, she came straight home to your shared dorm and spent the rest of the night making it up to you with a movie night filled with popcorn, candy, and most importantly a clean sink.

Caitlin snapped back into the present as the interviewer finished her thought, “It sure seems like your girlfriend Y/N has played a huge role in not only your life on the court but also off of it. How sweet! Where is she tonight?”

“She’s actually…” Caitlin turned around to look for you, and saw you walking past her to Kate wearing one of her jersey’s. She softly grabbed your arm and pulled you into the camera’s view. “She’s right here! Hi baby!” Caitlin gave you a quick kiss on the forehead before turning her attention back to the interview.

“So Y/N, in your eyes how do you think Caitlin did tonight?” The interviewer now questioned you.

You took a moment to think and then smiled, “Amazing as always. She’s always been amazing. Ever since high school where I met her.”

[bishopsbeloved]

the art of falling in love (part five)

natasha romanoff x fem reader

best friend!yelena belova, aroace!yelena belova, internalised homophobia, found family trope, coming of age, angst, fluff (eventual happy ending)

part one | part two | part three | part four | part five (16.3k words) | epilogue

read this fic on ao3!

Death was first explained to you and Yelena when you were six; Yelena’s favourite of her mother’s pigs passed away, and you were both called in from playing outside to be sat down gravely.

“Girls… Wilbur the piggy has, ah, passed away,” Alexi told you. You stared back at him blankly.

“Do you know what that means?” added Melina more gently.

“Uh… Peter from class said his mom and dad passed away,” Yelena offered after a few moments. “And it means that, like, he can’t see them ever again, so he lives with his aunt now.”

“Yes!” said Alexi enthusiastically, before catching himself and adding in a much more solemn tone, “I mean, ah, yes… very sad. Not good.”

Melina looked at him sternly and he fell silent. “You are right, Yelena. When someone passes away, it means they are no longer with us.”

“Like when you go to the store?”

“No. When I go to the store I am always coming back, да? Passing away is permanent, and it means you never see them again.”

“Oh. But I like Wilbur,” said Yelena sadly, and you nodded in agreement.

“That is what makes life all the more precious,” Melina told you gently. “You never know when someone may pass away — only that everybody will, someday. So you must enjoy the time you have with them, my darlings, and never take it for granted.”

As the years went on and the two of you began to understand what death actually means, that first introduction to it became somewhat of a running joke between you and Yelena (because how else can humans deal with such a terrifying concept as death? You can choose to either laugh or cry, and Yelena will always choose to laugh); the idea of someone passing away will often be referred to as going to the store. For example, Alexi is probably the sole man responsible for the entirety of Ohio state’s roadkill — neither you nor Yelena can remember a car journey with him in the wheel during which some unfortunate creature has not stumbled into his path and suffered fatally for that mistake. Every time it happens, without fail, Yelena will turn around eagerly in her seat or poke her head out of the window and assess the damage before gravely announcing, “That one is definitely not coming back from store.”

It’s a euphemism that can be used in any situation — and often is, actually. Whenever the TV signal packs up (as it often does in such a rural town as your own) and the Kardashians begin to cut out awkwardly, Yelena will throw down the remote and shout in frustration “Ma! The fork thingy on the roof has gone store again,” and Melina will know exactly what she means. Or whenever your history teacher Mr Fury hobbles into class, who is so old he looks like he’s witnessed half the events he teaches you, Yelena will nudge you and whisper “he is close to store’s doorstep now, eh?” Et cetera, et cetera. The phrase gets used often.

You feel silly for your mind wandering to those words, given the circumstances. But all you can think of right now is your overwhelming hopes and prayers that Liho has not gone to the store — and that neither has your bond with Yelena. As for Natasha… well, recent times have been a cruel wake-up call.

It’s been a few hours since Melina left with the cat, and the only text you’ve gotten from her since then says cat in surgery now. Yelena has barricaded herself in your shared room — her room now, you think miserably to yourself. You have never, ever seen her so upset, not in your whole life. You don’t think you’ve ever even argued with her, outside of your usual half-hearted play wrestles. But now she’s shouted at you through your thick heavy door, a solid wall between you, putting miles between the two of you but still not enough distance to lessen the brutality of the words she hurls at you from the other side of it. Words you can’t think of for too long or tears will begin to brim in your eyes all over again. Words which you know you deserve, but ones you never thought you’d hear your best friend say to you.

Now you sit uncomfortably stiff on the couch, feeling like a stranger in the home you’ve grown up in, the silence threatening to suffocate you. You feel almost like a prisoner in your body, unable to move as you relieve the last few hours over and over in your head. There’s no doubt in your mind that Yelena is right. You are an awful person. If you weren’t, if you were better, maybe Natasha would still want you, instead of casting you aside once you began to bore her. Maybe if you were better you’d have been sensible or strong enough to not sneak around with her at all. But you’re not, and now you’ve broken apart a family you weren’t even worthy of in the first place.

Natasha is sat in the armchair opposite you, legs curled beneath her, nursing her bloody nose. Her gaze has been fixed on you for the indeterminable amount of time you’ve both been sat here, but you are too exhausted to care. For once, you have much, much bigger problems than her feelings.

Eventually, she speaks, more subdued than usual. “I’m sorry.”

“For what?” Your voice doesn’t sound like yours. It’s somewhere else, someone else’s, far away.

“For…” She hesitates. Like there’s something she doesn’t want to say out loud. “For not, uh. For treating you badly.”

Well, that’s not really what you expected her to say.

Your silence prompts her to flounder further. “I just— I don’t, well, I can’t really explain a lot, but I— I know I messed up. You deserved better. And I’m sorry.”

And you’re so done with her, and so little of yourself is left now that you simply stand up and walk away.

Natasha doesn’t even call after you, just kind of makes this sad and defeated little noise that makes your heart hurt. You know it would just ache even more if you turned around again, though. So you don’t. You walk the hall for a few aimless moments before your feet carry you to the only person currently home who you still have a dependable relationship with — Alexi.

His workshop, as he calls it, is adjoined to the kitchen; a tiny wooden door which he has to bend himself double to fit through, leading to the garage. This has been his space for as long as you can remember. You have no idea how he moves with such ease through it when it’s like a maze to you — huge chunks of greasy half-repaired machinery everywhere, cluttered workbenches and racks of tools and shelves of liquids labelled in his indecipherable Russian scrawl. He often has the tiny tin portable perched on a shelf squeaking out radio shows in his mothertongue which he guffaws merrily at, but as you enter now the room is peacefully quiet, save for Alexi’s disjointed hums of a thousand songs in one and the little chink noises the piece of metal he’s working on makes every time he hits it, slowly bending it into shape.

“Ah, привет! Good evening, daughter,��� he says cheerfully, without even turning around as you creep up barefoot behind him. He doesn’t say anything more, and neither do you, for a while; you opt to simply sink down onto one of the wooden stools littered about the place and watch Alexi absently while he works. This doesn’t faze him at all. On the occasions where Yelena was busy without you as a kid, you would do this very thing. Alexi would simply chuckle at you and ruffle your hair with a large bearish hand, oftentimes leaving behind little smudges of black motor oil in it. You’re still in your prom outfit, though, with your hair done up intricately, so tonight he stops himself in time.

“Do you think Liho will be okay?” you ask after a while, in a very small voice.

“Oh, да,” he replies, without hesitation. Even with his back to you as he tinkers busily you can hear the sincerity in his tone. “Yes, yes. Think of what that kitty has been through already, eh? When you found him he was doing worse than that. He is, uh, tough meat. A fighter.”

Seeing Alexi so placid and unshaken in the face of tonight’s events is strangely calming and you nod, soothed by his words, before another thought strikes you. “Oh… but the vet bills.”

Alexi lets out a low but not unkind laugh. “Ah, не будь глупым, you worry so much. We will figure those out. Melina is a sly fox, has money tucked away in hidey-holes, eh?”

“But— I mean —” You twitch uncomfortably, and Alexi seems to finally cotton onto what it is that you’re really worried about. He sets down his tools with his usual gentleness, which never fails to look foreign on such a giant of a man, and turns to look at you.

“You are member of this family,” he tells you. “No matter what Yelena say. She is angry, sure, but it will blow over, eh? You love the silly little fur man, and we do too. So if these bills will help him of course we will pay it. There is no need for worry.”

“But I ruined everything,” you say quietly.

He laughs again. “Nonsense. You have not ruined any of the things, голубка.”

“But… your date night. And— Natasha,” you hiccup.

“We have date nights all the time, подсолнух, there will be others. And Natasha… well, me and your mama are knowing this for long time. Yelena will be coming round also, eventually. We will figure this all out, we are a family. She is your sister. All of the things will be okay. None of them are ruined.”

And you can’t help but cry at that, at his earnest sincerity, his certainty that things will work out — and because you love him, and he is your family. You tell him so through choked sobs, and he just looks at you softly before wrapping you into a petrol-scented bear hug, prom outfit be damned.

Maybe he’s right. Maybe everything will be okay.

Yelena sinks into another episode over the following days. She does nothing much but sit, a vacant look in her eyes, devoid of any feeling, and stare for hours at a time as though seeing something that the rest of you cannot. She has no words left to give, and drifts around on autopilot, only performing basic functional tasks when prompted to — as if they’re an afterthought. Seeing her like this wracks you with guilt in a way none of her episodes have before, because for the first time you know with a crushing certainty that this is because of you. You offer countless times to return to your parents’ house across the road, the residents of which you haven’t conversed with in months, but Alexi and Melina dismiss this as if it’s the silliest idea in the world.

“You are family,” Melina tells you firmly. “Fights happen, да? You stay.”

Even if you’re still welcome in the house you’re certainly not welcome in your usual room. Natasha offers to put you up in hers but drops this very quickly after the look that you give her, so instead a section of the loft is cleared for you. You and Alexi spend a merry Sunday together in his workshop assembling a bedframe for your new space, only to discover once you’ve made it upstairs that it’s actually too large to fit through the attic hatch, so you have to take it to bits to get it up there and then rebuild it all over again. (It doesn’t really matter though, because Alexi is so bemused by the whole thing and his own oversights that it’s impossible to be frustrated at the setback. He just grins so goofily.) When Yelena is in the shower you sneak back into her room to gather as many of your belongings as you can and begin to turn the little space into yours. Melina brings home some fairy lights from the store, you order some posters online and within a week or so you’ve organised yourself a very cozy nest amongst the mess of the loft.

Even now you’ve moved in, over half of the room is still piled high with boxes of various things and piles of junk and the distinct, cloth-draped, dust-gathering shapes of Alexi’s abandoned projects (which he insists on keeping on the basis that he might need them someday, much to Melina’s theatrical chagrin). The various artefacts throughout the room create a kind of ever-changing maze, and you remember playing up here with Yelena when the two of you were kids and it was too cold to play outside — for you, anyway, being someone who’s grown up in a relatively warm American state. To this day Yelena often scorns you for your inability to tolerate any kind of cold, and reminds you of the climates the rest of the family has lived in.

Thinking of her makes your heart involuntarily twinge, and you wince, standing from your perch on the end of your new bed in the vain hopes of shaking it off. As you do so something in the opposite corner of the room catches your eye; the neat pile of scrapbooks Melina worked on for years when you were kids. “I’m going full American mama,” she would quip, spending hours of an evening painstakingly prettying the pages laden with pictures that Alexi had taken throughout the day. You find yourself warmed by these memories, and drift over to the pile of books, settling before it. The newest scrapbooks are naturally at the top, so you shuffle through the pile until you reach the very first scrapbook Mama Melina ever made, which begins the day Yelena came home. You settle down comfortably on the floor, cross-legged like you’re a kid again, and begin to flip through its pages; the very first are adorned with pictures of Melina and Alexi in their youth, and then on their wedding day. After that is the day Yelena came home, absolutely unfazed by this strange new country and its drawling people. Every single photo has the date it was taken written beneath it in perfect cursive, and through the timeline shown you can see that it was barely two weeks into Yelena’s residency here before you and her properly met, and became firm friends. Things progress like that for two years, from when you were five until when you were seven; regular entries are made in the scrapbooks documenting road trips and school plays and lost teeth, all of which you smile upon fondly.

Halfway through the third scrapbook, Natasha comes home. You recognise one of the many pictures documenting this milestone as one that hangs large and framed with pride downstairs above the fire; a stunned, still blue-haired Natalia swathed in thermals, huddled in the corner of Alexi’s rickety old fighter jet on the journey back from the motherland, beaming widely up at whoever’s taking the photo. Despite the fact that you see it every day, seeing it alongside so many others in which she’s so bewildered but so, so happy makes your heart feel so strongly that you have to flip ahead.

You pore over the pages of the main scrapbooks with interest for a while longer, until the main timeline ends and divulges into you, Yelena and Natasha each having your own dedicated scrapbooks. You have no interest in studying your own baby photos, and given all that’s going on reliving Yelena’s would be unbearable right now, so instead you find yourself picking up Natasha’s, and pushing the others aside.

Seeing her grow up before your eyes like this is surreal. In reality you were by her side every day, and most of these changes happen so gradually that you barely even noticed them, but here are immortalised stills from throughout the years which show how she’s grown. When she first came home she hadn’t had her growth spurt yet, and still had her gentle Russian lilt which the rest of her family retains to this day. As she starts attending public school and socialising with her peers you can see that something changes very hastily within her; a light kind of fades from her eyes. The blue is bleached from her hair, and as the red fades back in its place she seems to fade a little too — into the quiet, observant Natasha that you know today. She doesn’t seem unhappy, as such, but… uncertain, and it dredges up a kind of sadness in your chest that forces you to push the book away, lest the tears in your eyes follow through with their threat to overspill.

You’ve always seen Natasha as someone so secure and sure of herself — so much so that she doesn’t feel the need to speak over anyone else in the room in order to get her opinions across. When she does speak it’s usually a quick, cutting remark that earns laughs and leaves everyone eager to hear more out of her. When she walks into a room heads turn to look at her, no matter where she goes. She knows that. She’s someone worth paying attention to. It’s never occurred to you, not once in your life, that her behaviours aren’t the result of something different. But looking at these pictures has stirred up something in you which you can’t quite describe. A deep sadness at the fact that you’ve probably never known her at all, aside from the parts of the real her that have slipped through the cracks; her Russian accent and sleepy kisses first thing in the morning, her goodnight texts, the way she doesn’t need to ask your order at drive-thrus or coffee shops, the notes she’d leave under your pillow. That’s Natasha. Not whoever this is who’s pushed you away. Not this girl who has bleached the childhood from her hair and taught herself how to be from another place.

You pile the scrapbooks back in the neat and tidy order in which you found them and crawl back to your bed, flopping into it, utterly emotionally exhausted by this trip down memory lane. You think it’s dark outside… you’re certainly tired enough to rest now, anyway, and you do; drifting in and out of an uneasy slumber, visited by vague and twisted recollections from your childhood which disappear upon your waking again, before you can grasp them properly, like the sand of your youth slipping through your fingers.

Mama Melina is a woman of science. She’s always considered herself a grounded person. She doesn’t concern herself with what she doesn’t understand, or care for (namely whatever she cannot see for certain with her own two eyes) to the extent that this is the path her career has taken, and is now what feeds her children. She is, objectively, an intellectual woman. Her analytical methods of thinking have led to scientific breakthroughs in her area of expertise, and she is renowned as an expert at her job. She did not reach this point through belief in the spiritual, or abstract. Hell, being raised in an orphanage herself, she didn’t even really believe in true romantic love until Alexi bore his whole earnest heart to her.

One day, when you were young, you came home from school and, with frightening nonchalance, came home and asked if one of your classmates had been correct in saying that people who kissed others of the same gender were hell-headed sinners. Melina abruptly halted her mundane household task and sat you down, taking one of your hands in hers.

“Sin is a fairytale,” she told you, as delicately as she could. “Nobody knows for certain whether sin or God or heaven or hell are real. To believe that is a choice, a leap of faith which certain people make. But all we know for certain is what’s here now, да? Like I am real, you are real,” she cupped your little face between her warm hands and squeezed gently, making you wrinkle your nose and wriggle happily, “Baba and Yelena are real. But sin is thing you choose to believe in. It is made up stories to make us feel better about death but it does not matter, малыш. What matters is what we do now, when we are alive, not what we do to secure a place in an afterlife that might not exist, eh? We are kind to each other now while we live because we know it to be true that we’re alive. To tell someone else who to kiss was wrong and unkind of that boy at school. Worry about the afterlife once you get there, да? If you want to kiss girls, kiss girls. No one who is kind or worth your time will care.”

She kissed the top of your head before standing back up and returning to her cleaning. No more words were exchanged on the prospect, but from that day onward it has appeared to be common knowledge in the household that you like girls, and that Melina is not a fan of religion justifying bigotry.

In all honesty, she is not a fan of anything that’s not an irrefutable truth. Science is her preferred method of explanation for any problem that may occur. But as her relationship with Alexi has blossomed, and then in turn the ones she shares with her daughters too, she’s learned that facts and feelings do not have to be mutually exclusive. Some of the complexities of the human mind are far beyond her understanding, or indeed any of us — and yet this is a truth which ought to be embraced, not feared. The greatest joys in Melina’s life are its mysteries.

And so Mama Melina has never questioned the dynamic you and Natasha share; at least to her, it’s seemed crystal clear since day one that the two of you harbour affections for one another — admittedly for reasons beyond her comprehension, but it’s nonetheless undeniable to anyone who knows you like she does. She’s watched you grow all of your lives, delicately inching closer to one another like two flowers craning their necks to reach the sun. Melina long ago accepted she’ll never in this lifetime know what higher power reigns as a puppeteer over her, or understand the complexities of love, but she knows better than to pretend as if some things in this world aren’t inexplicably and cosmically connected. You and Natasha only prove this point. If she looks hard enough, Melina can see the red thread that runs from your body to her daughter’s.

Alexi, by far the romantic, wholeheartedly agrees with her, which only furthers Melina’s convictions (he would know better than her, she reasons) — although admittedly the events of the last few months have blindsided the both of them. Melina appears to be more concerned by it than her husband, though; so much so that one night she actually sits him down to ask if he even knows what’s going on, and why there’s this big gaping gulf between her daughters, tearing her family apart.

Alexi just guffaws, so full of mirth that Melina is startled. “Ah Боже мой, my love. Do not be silly, I would have to be blind to miss those daggers over dinner, no? No, do not worry, I’m understand. But love is not easy, ah? Its course has never run so smooth. Remember when I first asked out you? You were so… skittish, like little kitten, for weeks,” he recalls with shining eyes. “And look where we ended up now, ah? These are silly babies. They’ll make mistakes. They need the time that you did.”

His words soothe her, in the way that they always do. She relaxes into his comforting embrace with the knowledge that even if she’s the intellectual (and financial) breadwinner in this relationship, Alexi always knows what to say in the face of the heart’s unpredictability. Maybe he is right. Maybe everyone just needs some time.

So, despite her doubts, time is what Melina gives.

Two weeks after that conversation, Liho comes home. His fur is patchy where it’s been shorn off and started to grow back again, and one of his legs is still bound tightly, but he’s back and he’s yours. He leaps happily into your arms when he sees you (despite the yelp of alarm Melina makes) and it’s like he never left. Yelena comes the closest to you that she’s been in weeks to pet his head while he’s curled up against your chest, and she even allows a smile to escape. You can’t help but smile back, like the beginning of spring after a long harsh winter, hope blossoming in your chest once again.

In the time that it’s taken him to come home, other things have happened too. Natasha’s nose, displaced by the punch Yelena successfully laid on her, heals quickly. Your relationship does not. Something unspoken festers between the two of you, hardening and shrinking and blackening into a sickening nothingness. You can’t look at her now without the taste of something bitter filling your mouth — and yet that boiling hot liquid rage still fills your chest when you think of her with someone else. How is it possible to love someone so much but hate them at the same time? You wish, more than anything, that none of this happened. You wish she would just let you love her without having to ruin it for the both of you.

It’s such an indescribably lonely feeling that the two of you are like this now, when only a short time ago the two of you bore open hearts to one another — well, you gave yours to Natasha, anyway. The more you think about it the less of her you have ever known. She’s a stranger to you. Quite a few times since prom night she’s tried to speak to you — offering another half-assed apology, no doubt — but you’ve only ever shut her down. What is there left to say? Nothing that you want to hear, for sure.

(And maybe the things that still hang heavy in the air between you are better left unsaid.)

A few days after Liho comes home you’re laid on your bed in the attic, with your baby boy himself curled comfortably on your chest, purring away merrily as you scratch at his head. There’s some soft music on in the background but neither of you are really doing much. You’re just trying to enjoy his company, (and he’s evidently enjoying yours,) now that you know not to take it for granted.

The scare you’ve had with him has shifted your perspective on a lot, actually — it’s been a rude but much-needed wake up call. Yelena, just like Liho, is your family, and you want to make up with her. Who knows how long either of you have left, or what might happen?

Yes, you absolutely want to be her sister again. You’re just not sure where to even start.

The knock that comes at your door is unexpected, though, and only more unexpected when you see who your mystery visitor actually is. Yelena stands in your doorway, eyes fixed on Liho on your chest. He mews happily when he sees her.

“Кот,” she says hoarsely, holding out her arms and making grabby hands. You blink, stunned for a moment at the fact that she is talking at all, let alone talking to you. This would usually be a good sign, one that she’s coming back into herself, but these naturally are unprecedented circumstances, and you can’t really be certain what anything means anymore.

Yelena steps forward, jerking you out of your trance; you shoot to your feet and kiss Liho on the forehead before holding him out to her with your hands beneath his armpits so that his legs dangle underneath him, rendering him comically long and thin. Lena scoops him up and curls him against her chest; he purrs contentedly and her eyes crinkle in quiet gratitude before she leaves, humming her song to herself.

You almost call out to her, but your body freezes. The door closes behind her you scold yourself for not reaching out, for trying to close this rift between you, but maybe you’ve not given her long enough yet.

What Yelena needs is time, you know. Her whole world has been turned upside down and she has to rebuild it piece by piece. But how much time is enough?

Well, as it turns out, you won’t have to wait much longer.

It’s the last week of school, just over five weeks now since your catastrophic prom night, and you’ve just walked out of your last final. Sam Wilson is waiting for you outside the doors with your favourite flavour of popsicle in his hand, and is already busily consuming his own. When he spots you he waves a broad hand merrily, and you make your way over to him.

“I’m sure you aced it, squirt,” he says before you can even open your mouth, and offers you the popsicle. Unfortunately you’re all too familiar to Ohio’s stifling summer air, making every thought or movement damp and groggy. You accept it gratefully.

Your core friendship group, which you’ve been in for years now, has been pretty turbulent since things went down between you and Yelena. Pairing that with finals and early graduations, you can feel a permanent shift occurring, and it’s frightening. Everyone’s still making  effort to maintain contact with you, but this change on top of everything else has you feeling like you’re drowning when you think too long about it.  It seems like you never know what are the golden days until they’re gone. (You got twelve golden years with Yelena, but is that where it ends? Will she ever tolerate your presence in her life again?)

Someone who you couldn’t be more grateful for throughout all of this is Sam. One day not long after everything happened you came to him crying, and confessed everything. He patted your back with an aura of awkward concern until your sobs subsided, at which point all he had to offer was, “Huh. Well, I guess that explains why prom night went to shit.”

You can’t help but admire the way that he takes everything in his stride. Nothing fazes him. It’s welcome after spending so long around Natasha, who’s constantly on edge, worried someone else might see her with you. Sam is so unbothered, just being in his presence is calming. He’s become a good and valued friend to you.

“That was your last final,” he reminds you, bringing you back to the present moment. “You’re free now for the whole summer.”

“Oh fuck yeah, man,” you say as the realisation dawns on you.

“How’d you want to celebrate?”

You look up at him and a toothy grin takes root on his face as he realises what you’re about to say.

“Arcade,” you say and he nods fervently in agreement. In recent times you’ve become its most loyal patrons; you retreat there often after classes, whether it’s to recuperate from a bad day or celebrate a good one. Today, thankfully, appears to be the latter.

“Arcade,” he repeats happily, and the two of you amble off out of the school gates and down the hill toward the centre of town, where the Boulevard housing the arcade is located. You chat happily for a little while, about your plans for the summer and what you might do together.

“And, uh… any updates on your… anything?” he asks delicately. It’s a vague question but of course you know what he means.

“Not really.” You deflate a little. “I’m not sure Lena wants me around anymore, to be honest.”

“I’m sure she does,” Sam consoles with a startling certainty. “Seriously. What about Natasha?”

You just shake your head. “I don’t want to… I can’t. Not until Lena…”

“Gives you the okay,” he nods understandingly.

“Yeah, I guess. But until she’s sorry, too. She was really mean,” you say quietly.

“Yeah, I get that. It’ll be okay, man.”

You’re not so sure about that, but before you can express this you cross the road and the two of you have reached the arcade, where your troubles are promptly forgotten.

Sam’s words are very quickly proven correct, though — within only a few hours. You arrive home from your arcade trip with some silly winnings tucked under your arm and a smile on your face. It is Friday night, date night for Melina and Alexi, so a car is missing from the driveway and the kitchen is empty as you enter.

Perfect, you think to yourself, and begin to fix yourself some food. These days you’re very careful not to venture into the communal areas of the house unless you’re sure you won’t be treading on anyone else’s toes. You kind of feel like a burden as it is — you’re not a proper part of this family anyway, not in the way that everyone else is — and you don’t want to make anyone uncomfortable in their own home. So you’ve moved bedrooms and now you meticulously strategise what times you’ll make an expedition down to the kitchen. (Sometimes, when you’ve not had a chance to eat yet, you’ll open your bedroom door to a plate of chocolate chip pancakes in front of you. Everyone in the house denies knowledge when asked but you have your suspicions of who’s behind it.)

Sometimes you think about moving back to the place where you were born, but you’re not sure if you could stomach that. That feels like a forever choice. There’s no going back from that.

Liho pads up to you, excited that you’re home and even more excited that you’re making food. Unable to help yourself, you indulge him with some chin scratches and scraps. Life’s too short, you say. Why shouldn’t you make a fuss of your boy?

He winds himself around your legs contentedly while you cook. It is just you and him and school has finished and you have the whole summer to do what you want, and you are cooking, and for the first time in a while you are able to shut off and experience a moment of complete peace.

Naturally, with the trajectory of your life at the minute, this peace does not last long.

“Is Sam Wilson your new best friend?” says a cool voice behind you. You actually yelp in alarm, and very ungracefully fumble with the piping hot utensils you’re using, burning your hand in the process. Liho hisses, and you do too, making a beeline for the sink.

“Don’t sneak up on me like that,” you mutter half-heartedly. Yelena, now moving to stand fully in the light, just makes a noise in the back of her throat as she opens the cupboard above your head and reaches for the first-aid kit. Her face is carefully unbothered.

“I only asked a question,” she says, moving your food off of the heat. Liho claws at your ankles worriedly. You struggle to process Yelena’s words, much less the fact that she is talking to you. Did you blink and miss a chapter?

“Uh,” you rub at the back of your neck with your hand not under running water, “n-no. No, he’s not my new best friend. I don’t,” your voice drops, and you look away, “I don’t think I have one anymore.”

“You do,” she informs you matter-of-factly, hopping up onto the counter beside you and swinging her legs while you continue to bathe your hand. “If you still want one. But she is very mad at you.”

Your voice catches in your throat.

“She does love you,” Lena continues, “but she is wondering why you did things in the way you did.”

There’s a moment of quiet. You gather your thoughts. You weren’t expecting to have this talk tonight.

“I was scared,” you tell her.

“Of what?”

“Of,” you gesture between the two of you, “this. Of making things bad. I always figured it would be like a,” you tilt your head back to keep from crying, because now would be a stupid time to cry, “a stupid schoolgirl crush, you know? She never even spoke to me, I was just her little sister’s dumb best friend, but then things happened and it was so fast and I was so scared. And I wanted to tell you but she… didn’t. She only wanted me when no one else could see. I guess I hoped that she would — come around, eventually, and then I wouldn’t be lying anymore.” You’re heaving with the effort to not cry. “I was wrong.”

“All this time the mystery girl was treating you like shit, you could have told me who it was,” Yelena implores. “I love my sister but she makes me sad also. She can be a dick, absolutely. She’s the worst. Why wouldn’t you tell me?”

“She’s your family,” you choke. “I couldn’t cause a— a rift or a problem like that. And what if you believed her over me? And it kept getting worse, and —”

“Сестра,” she leans over, cupping your damp face between her hands and forcing you to look at her, “I would always believe you. Always. Never before have you given reason to not.”

You nod tearfully, and she lets go. The only noise is the running water for a few moments.

“That is probably long enough under tap,” Lena murmurs, turning it off and taking your injured hand in her lap. Opening the first aid kit, she begins to dress the burn. “I am sorry for making you jump.”

“I am sorry for everything else,” you reply honestly. “I was stupid.”

“Yes,” she agrees bluntly. Then, “Natalia was stupider.” When you look up in open surprise, she rolls her eyes. “Close your mouth, you will catch flies. Of course she was stupid, she has fumbled so hard. You,” she pinches your cheek affectionately, “are a catch. I am not even into all of this, but if I was a dater we would be together and I would treat you like four million times better than she does.”

“You already do,” you say quietly, looking down at your hand in her lap as she continues to bandage it.

“Oh absolutely, I am the best.”

Another, much longer, pause. She finishes wrapping your hand, and pats it three times to notify you that she’s done, the exact same way that Mama Melina does. The action makes your heart swell and eyes fill with unexpected tears.

“Do you know why I was so upset by all of it?” she asks unexpectedly. You blink in surprise. This feels like a trick question.

“Because… I lied?”

“Because you picked Natasha over me,” she tells you.

“No I didn’t— what?”

“Yes, you did,” she says, and she’s a little choked all of a sudden. “All of my life Natasha has been the one who everyone looks at first. She is the special one. You are the only one I had first, who was mine. My близнец. And then I find out that for months you have been lying and picking her over me instead. When she is mean, she is so mean sometimes, yes I love her but she is not much like when we were kids anymore, she is so mean. But everyone likes her more than me. Even you.” She turns away.

“No, no I don’t,” you rush to her side, unable to help it now, scooping her close to you. “No I don’t. I was wrong, and I’m sorry. It was stupid to think she’d ever love me, I shouldn’t have— and I shouldn’t have left you out of it. I think I was trying to protect you? I don’t know. You’re always the one to protect me and punch everyone else, I think I was trying to stop you from getting hurt. And her? But it was dumb. Very dumb.”

“Very, very dumb,” Yelena agrees.

“The dumbest.”

“You have broken world record, кролик.”

You laugh a little tearfully, and while Yelena’s arms are wrapped around you she feels it throughout her body. She revels in the feeling of you holding her and loving her again, after the longest time.

“So we are back from the store?” she asks hopefully after a moment. It takes you a moment to process what she means.

“Oh,” you laugh, “we were never there. You will always be my favourite person, Yelena Belova-Shostakov.”

“Okay.” She exhales in relief. “Good. Just, because — well, you know, we have not spoke in so long and you didn’t think you had a best friend, and—”

“No— what? No,” you frown, “that was me giving you space to process and heal. I wasn’t sure you’d want me back,” you laugh. “I wasn’t ignoring you. I promise.”

“I will always want you back,” she says in a small, content voice. “I will always want you home. With me. Not at store.”

“Not at the store,” you repeat.

And just like that, you have your best friend again.

One familial bond repaired doesn’t mean all of them, though — and Yelena’s relationship with her sister has been patchy recently, to put it mildly. In your eyes it’s a plus that they haven’t outright fistfought in the way that they absolutely would if they were any younger, but Mama Melina doesn’t seem to see things that way.

A few days after you and Yelena make up, the two of you along with your parents are sat around the dinner table. At the very least Melina is able to fuss over her twins again, and Alexi is able to once again boom “here comes trouble” whenever the two of you enter a room together. They both take great pleasure in it,  much to Yelena’s entertainment and your endearment. You love your parents.

The conversation halts when the front door slams, though. Natasha appears in the kitchen doorway for a second before processing the scene in front of her and slowly backing away, back out of sight.

“What is this about?” Alexi calls after her through a mouthful of food. “Come eat, love.”

There is no response, only footsteps on the stairs.

“Our daughters hate each other,” Melina sighs heavily. When you and Yelena look up at her, she clarifies, “no, not you two. You and Natasha.” She pinches Lena’s cheek.

“We do not hate each other,” Yelena says placidly, much to everyone’s surprise. “I am just angry at her. We will be fine.”

Natasha, who is still within earshot at the top of the stairs, feels her heart skip a beat at this and thinks to herself that just maybe Yelena is ready to be receptive to her attempts at reconnection. Her only issue is she has no idea how to facilitate it. She’s done all the things she can think of, aside from straight up cornering her younger sister — she leaves offerings of food at her door and texts  her when the Kardashians are on the TV — but all of it has been treated with nonchalance that’s left her bewildered as to what her next step should be.

Yelena’s got her covered, though.

It’s her turn to strike, she knows, and again she chooses to do it when her sister will least expect it. Nat traipses home late one night, exhausted from cheer practice that overran. (Their next game is the last of the season, and her last cheer match ever considering she’s graduating this summer, so this semester’s team captain Sharon is determined they go out with a bang — even if that bang is a cheerleader toppling from the pyramid out of sheer exhaustion.) She mumbles her greetings and goodnights to Melina and Alexi, who are huddled around a decanter of whiskey in the study with Liho, and stumbles upstairs. All the lights are off up here, and she figures you and Yelena are probably settling down for the night. With a long, wistful look up the spiral staircase towards your firmly closed door, she trudges into her own (pitch-black) room. When she flicks on the light, though, she shrieks in horror. Sat expectantly at the foot of her bed is a long-limbed and blonde-headed figure, with hands folded neatly in its lap.

“Good evening, сестра,” greets the figure, sometimes known as Yelena Belova, with vaguely ominous nonchalance.

Natasha leans back against the door and closes her eyes in a desperate attempt to revert her heart rate to normal. Her first instinct as an older sister is to yell at her to get the fuck out, but in light of recent events this probably wouldn’t be the wisest of choices. Instead, she clamps her mouth tightly shut as she attempts to regain herself.

“I don’t,” she pants after a moment, “I haven’t— what? Hi. What?”

“You should really get a better lock,” Yelena says amusedly. “Very easy to pick.”

“You don’t have to break in,” Natasha grumbles, letting her bag slide to the floor and flopping backwards onto the bed. “Just knock.”

“No fun.” Yelena pokes Nat’s thigh with her toe just like she would when they were kids and for a moment they’re both young again. But she blinks, and the moment is gone, and now they’re two almost-adults with an entire universe between them.

Natasha just groans and flops back to stare up at her ceiling. A few years back you and Yelena helped her paint it blue and now it looks like the sky. It makes her smile when she’s sad sometimes. Yelena joins her, and the two cloudgaze for a moment.

“Why are you in my room?” Natasha asks quietly.

“To annoy you,” Lena quips.

“Success.”

“And to talk,” she continues.

“Also success. We are talking.”

The blonde lunges for her, and Natasha rolls away playfully. “No, I’m serious. Real talking.”

“Alright, I’m all ears.” Nat puts her hands behind her ears and pushes them forward to emphasise her point — again, like they would when they were kids.

“I want to know what you were intending when you started dating Y/N,” Yelena says, and Nat’s stomach drops. She knew this was coming, she knew this was where the conversation would lead, but she was still hoping to stall it for as long as possible just for the joy that her sister is talking to her again. The excitement is short-lived, though.

“We were never dating,” she reminds her quietly.

“Why not?”

The bluntness of the question makes Natasha stop short.

“Because it just, didn’t work out like that, I guess,” she tries. Yelena remains eerily stony.

“It’s not nice to lie to your baby sister, Natalia.”

Natasha deflates. “Because w— because I’m a fucking idiot. I don’t know what you want me to say. I know I messed up.”

“Step one is awareness,” Yelena nods sagely, while Nat grits her teeth. “So what are you going to do about it?”

She shrugs. “Graduate, and leave town, I guess. You and Y/N are twins again now, and I caused all these problems, so once I leave things should be fixed.”

“Untrue and false,” the blonde interrupts sharply. “That is lie. Y/N/N is crushed. This will not magically be fix if you take off for college.”

“But it will help,” Natasha insists.

“No it won’t,” Yelena pinches the bridge of her nose in frustration, “oh my god, how are you so stupid. She is in love with you, and she is so patient with you, she is not even angry. Which I would be, by the way, but she’s not. She’s only sure you don’t want her.”

“Huh? But I do.”

“No, like wanting her,” Yelena says gently. “As a whole. Like… unity, ah? Влюбленный. She feels so not good enough for you, and every day you are prove her right. You take only what you want from her and leave the rest. That is not what love is. She feels not loved by you, and that you only like her for the things she can offer you.”

“Oh. But I didn’t mean to,” Natasha says tearfully. Suddenly she is very small, and she draws her knees up to her chest. “I was only… Lena, маленький, I didn’t know what to do.”

“The answer seems pretty simple,” the blonde observes astutely, “all you had to do was either tell her you love her and want to be with her, or tell her it is over. You can’t keep having things in your way forever. She has feelings too, and the relationship cannot be on just your terms. She is not a doll, or toy.”

“I do,” she says hoarsely. “I do, t- the first one. It’s- I do. But I’m so…” She raises a pale trembling palm to run a hand through her hair, inhaling shakily, and with a blink of surprise Yelena realised how scared her older sister truly is.

“What is so terrifying?” she asks tenderly.

“Y/N is a girl.”

Yelena almost laughs at the confession but is able to refrain, and is proud of her capability to do so upon seeing just how agitated her company is over the subject. “Is this all that holds you back? Nobody would care. Ma and Daddy wouldn’t. This is not end of the world.”

“No, you don’t get it,” says Natasha fiercely. “Ever since I came to America... you were here first, you and Y/N, and you just get to be you. You have who you are. But I don’t know who I am, so I have to — do all the American girl things. I have to fit in. I don’t have a Y/N. And American girls don’t kiss girls.”

Yelena stops to consider this. It’s true that Natasha has always put far, far more effort into fitting in and Westernising herself more than she or their parents ever did. Yelena is perfectly content with her slightly broken English and her raspy accent and her life of in-betweenness. She’s okay with being from two places. To her, when she looks in the mirror, that is Yelena Belova. They’re just parts of who she is. She’s never even stopped to consider those as potential insecurities — not when she had other things and feelings (or lack thereof) to worry about. How could something so unchangeable be a source of doubt? And yet here she now sits, struggling to wrap her head around this invisible binary which has suffocated her sister for so many years.

“But you are not… what?” she says confusedly. “You did have a Y/N. All of this… you’re being someone else. I knew something felt strange. I do not understand why? I like who you are before. It wasn’t bad. I like Natalia.”

This seems to break Nat, who buries her face in her hands. Yelena lets out a motherly cluck of sympathy and scoots closer to loop a gangly arm around her sister.

“I just want to be normal,” breathes Natasha.

“But it is not worth all this,” Yelena says, squeezing her sister tightly to her chest. “What does normal even mean? Being cool is not the most important, Natalia. Everybody liking you doesn’t… fix you not liking yourself.” She cringes at her own words, reminding herself a little too much of Darcy’s Pinterest feed, but the words seem to ring true with Nat, at least.

“I am just so scared,” Nat says in a small voice. “And I think I’ve made this so bad it can’t be fixed.”

Yelena pulls away to look her sternly in the eyes. “Things can always be fixed. Maybe not in ideal way you want them to be, but we can always make amends. But you have to be sorry.”

“I am,” Natasha cries, “I am sorry.”

Yelena holds her. “I know.”

She’s not so sure you know it, though.

Maybe somewhere deep down, you do. You see it in the saddened smiles Nat offers you whenever she steps out of your way or leaves a room so you can use it. You see it in the way she brings your favourite snacks home and leaves them in the pantry without word or question, like she doesn’t even expect you to notice. You see it even in the absence of her; in the way that she gives you space, quietly leaving rooms when you enter them so you can use them despite the fact that you can feel in the air how much she wants to stop and talk to you. Sure, you can tell that she’s sorry. But you’re not sure that she knows what she’s sorry for.

You’re not sure she knows how badly she’s really hurt you, with her every move stabbing into you repeatedly over a course of months. Now that the knife is turned on her and she’s the one in exile, a selfish part of you wants to leave her there, just so she knows what it’s like. You guess that’s kind of what you’re doing now. You know this can’t go on forever though. In a couple of months Natasha leaves for out-of-state college, which she announced over dinner a few nights ago. You had to excuse yourself from the table to process that information. Your time is limited, you know, and it’s clear what Natasha wants (to kiss and make up) — but what do you want? To leave this wound untreated, festering for the next eternity? Or to allow yourself peace and let this go?

“Why do I have to be the bigger person?” you half-heartedly complain to Yelena one night as the two of you wash the dishes. “It’s not fair.”

“Because you are the bigger person,” Yelena laughs. “Natalia has given you the control. The next move is on you. That’s just the way it is, if it’s fair or no.” She whips you playfully with her tea towel, and the conversation moves on without further incident.

The issue plays on your mind long after the words are spoken, though. Whether you like it or not, Yelena is right. The next move’s on you. But how are you meant to make that call? What is the right move to make?

Well, one of Natasha’s friends appears very opinionated on the subject. 

On a particularly warm afternoon, you and Yelena stroll into town, and stop off at May Parker’s ice cream parlour — the best in town.

“Ah,” Yelena grimaces, as you draw close to its glass windows, “it is so busy in there. I go in, you wait out here?” 

You smile at her gratefully, and she disappears inside. 

“Y/L/N!” a voice calls out behind you, and you turn around to see Bucky Barnes making a beeline for you. He’s about twice your size in every way imaginable, and you gulp. 

“Hi?” you say uncertainly. You don’t think you’ve ever spoken to him in your life.

“What’s up with you and Romanov?” Well, he’s straight to the point. 

You flounder, mouth opening and shutting, and he’s gracious enough to continue, “look, I know you and her are a thing. Were. I don’t know, she’s being so weird about it. It’s okay, it’s okay, I was her beard. And she was mine,” he adds, gesturing over at Steve Rogers, who’s stood on the other side of the road waiting patiently for his boyfriend. He smiles and waves amiably on cue. 

You blink. “And no one thought to inform me?” 

He shrugs. “Not my place. I think it is my place, though, to ask what’s got her so torn up. You and her fallen out? I’ve never seen her like this. I’on know what to do.”

He may not mean it menacingly, but he’s towering over you and you’re finding it hard to breathe. “She was an asshole, dude,” you say, perhaps a little more defensively than you envisioned. “She wasn’t nice to me and we weren’t even together, because she didn’t see me like that. So yeah, I guess we fell out.”

He frowns, deeply, and takes a moment to process this. “Oh. That… but she does feel that way about you.”

“It’d be nice if she’d show it,” you say bitterly. 

His face softens. “Maybe… Look, even if the two of you don’t work it out proper, wouldn’t it be easier to at least clear the air? She likes you so much. She just wants you in her life, I think.”

You look at him uncertainly for a moment, but he holds your gaze earnestly. You know him and Natasha are relatively close, and you don’t see why he’d lie about something like this. It’s definitely tempting to believe.

“Okay,” you say, “I’ll bear that in mind.”

He looks like he’s about to say something else, but you feel a hand on your shoulder and instantly recognise Yelena’s presence just behind you. “What is going on?”

“Just talking,” says Bucky smoothly, but it seems apparent that the moment is over. “See you around, kid.” He crosses the road back to Steve.

“Kid,” you mutter, “he’s one grade older than me.” 

“What did he want?” Yelena asks you, and you relay your strange interaction to her. “Oh. Well, he is probably right, but I’m not sure how much it means coming from Natasha’s ex.”

“Were they really together?” you ask, your stomach turning at the thought. Wouldn’t that co-occur with your and her relationship? “He said he was her beard.”

She shrugs. “Not my expertise. Come on, the ice cream will melt.”

You don’t see Bucky Barnes again for the weeks that follow, although you can’t help but wonder what he meant, and what he was trying to achieve. (And a little part inside of you thinks that maybe he could be right.)

“Ma?” says Natasha suddenly. “How did you know you loved Alexi?”

It’s late at night, and the two of them are on the car ride home from Nat’s last cheer game of the season. (At her request it was not a family affair, despite Alexi’s insistence that it was his right to make a fuss of his talented daughter’s performance at her last high school cheer game.) The roads are empty and the towns are sleepy, but Natasha’s question has Melina wide awake.

“Eeh… it was not like a revelation. I did not wake up one day with new clarity. It came to me over time. It took me long time to accept, though. Your father is very patient man.”

“But was there anything specific?” Natasha persists.

Melina purses her lips in thought. “Well, when I met him I was not trusting person. One time when we were in the kind of in between bit right before being proper couple, ah —”

“The talking stage,” Nat supplies helpfully.

“— yes, да. We were in that, nothing proper but something, and he went to touch me and I had a… panic? I shut down. Achh, моя любовь, I was still figuring out who I was and what I did and didn’t like and… still growing up and healing from when I was kid. I was scared.”

Natasha nods solemnly. There are some childhood experiences which, despite unspoken, bind she and her mother at the soul.

“So I freak out, and I expected him to… belittle or leave, or something. But he stays and he is so patient, he apologise for making me jump and fetch me tea, and I thought like wow, he is so gentle. And he is not like the other men I known.”

Again, Natasha nods. Gentle is the perfect descriptor for her father. He’s the most wonderful man she’s ever met.

“So we spent more time together, he was patient with me and always caring. That was the time that I knew I would fall in love with him. But I’m not really know when it happened. Maybe by then it already had, ah? I have only ever had eyes for him. He make me feel… valued, and worthy.”

Natasha just hums in response, for she’s suddenly and embarrassingly on the verge of violent sobbing. She blames Ma and Baba and their beautiful relationship. Nothing else.

“Is this about Y/N?” Melina asks quietly. Natasha opens her mouth to reply and there it is, just as she feared, the waterworks are unleashed. Ma sighs heavily and pulls over.

“Идите сюда,” she says, holding her arms out, and Natasha crawls into them. She rocks her daughter back and forth, exactly how she used to so many years ago when the girl was half this size, while Nat’s face is buried in her mother’s neck. They stay like that for a while, until Natasha’s tears begin to die down.

“Do you want to go and get milkshakes?” Melina breaks the silence. Natasha hums her assent.

The 24-hour diner isn’t far from where they’ve pulled over, and it’s almost empty at this time of night. With no words exchanged Melina orders Natasha’s usual, or what was her usual when she was a kid — a strawberry milkshake and fries. A young Natasha decided strawberry was her favourite as soon as she found out that pink was a girl’s colour. Thinking about that now, especially with the hindsight of her conversation with Yelena, has her stomach turning a little. How long has she been letting her view of the world colour every single choice that she makes? Which parts of her are really her, and which are the ones she’s willed into existence?

It’s a scary line of questioning, and Natasha can feel herself beginning to spiral. No more, she tells herself. Yelena was probably right about needing to get to know herself — and learning her real favourite flavour of milkshake seems a manageable starting point.

“Can I have the caramel one?” she asks Melina gruffly, pointing at the menu. Her mama just nods and alters their order accordingly.

They sit at their usual booth and eat in a comfortable silence, punctuated only by the occasional “pass the ketchup”s. Once they’ve finished, though, and Melina can sense her daughter has calmed enough to leave, she turns and says to her, “Love isn’t easy thing to admit. But it’s… not something to be ashamed of. When it comes, just let it happen. It’s scary, but it does not make you weaker, ah? It will do you no good to push it away.” She hesitates, but then seems satisfied with what she’s said. She turns on her heel and heads back out to the car. Natasha, dumbfounded, follows her.

When they finally make it home, Alexi is snoring away upstairs and you’re on the sofa with Yelena sprawled on top of you, fast asleep. You’re wide awake, though, and look up as the two of them come in.

“Night, ma,” Natasha murmurs to her mother, kissing her cheek before tiptoeing off to bed. Melina hums at the action and pads into the living room toward her twins.

“Hi ma,” you chirp, voice a little husky. “Everything okay?”

Your mama nods, and holds out a brown paper bag. “We stopped at diner. Got your favourite. Some for Lena too.”

Your eyes crinkle up into half-moons as you smile at her in gratitude, and Melina smiles back fondly, her chest filling with warmth. “Thank you.”

She kisses Yelena’s forehead, who does not stir, and then yours, lingering for a moment.

“I love you,” she tells you sincerely, and a fierceness glimmers in her gaze that you’re not quite sure what to do with. “We all do.”

“I love you too,” you tell her honestly. You only hope you’re matching her intensity. She holds your gaze for a moment longer as if searching for something within it,  then nods, seemingly satisfied, and retreats upstairs to join Alexi, leaving you alone with a meal to demolish, a slumbering blonde pinning you to the sofa and many, many thoughts.

A few days after that conversation, you wander into the backyard (Melina’s carefully pruned pride and joy) to pet Liho, who’s basking peacefully in the summer evening sun.

“Careful of the flowerbed,” you warn as he flexes his claws and kicks his legs happily. “Someone will suffer if Ma’s roses are ruined.”

He huffs in what could be agreement, and you toe absently at the sandy dirt you and Yelena used to play in.

A gentle creaking sounds from somewhere nearby. It’s a noise that makes you feel ten years younger, and curiously, you rise to your feet.

At the far end of the backyard, nestled among the pines and pratia, is the swing set Alexi built a little while after Yelena first moved in. It’s a little haggard-looking, as when Natasha came to America Alexi bodged a third swing so all of you could play together, but to his credit it’s still held up all these years. Sure, it doesn’t get so much use anymore, but sometimes when one of you is feeling a little down you’ll revisit the simpler times of your childhood.

This seems to be what you’ve stumbled upon Natasha doing now. She’s sat on the middle swing (which in times gone by was your swing, as the middle spot often was when you were a kid, so both siblings got to be next to you), rocking back and forth gently as she cradles something small in her hands, turning it over. She’s lost in thought. Wondering if you’ve intruded on something private, you begin to slowly pace away. When you catch sight of what it is in her hands, though, your stomach turns; a small and glistening pink rock, rubbed smooth by years of love.

“You kept that?” you ask quietly. Natasha’s head shoots up and she takes note of your appearance in the same way that a deer takes note of rapidly approaching headlights. Her mouth opens as she fumbles for words, but she just settles for nodding vigorously before lowering her gaze to her lap again.

You don’t really know what to think, or do. You hesitate for a moment, and find yourself thinking of Bucky’s advice — wouldn’t it be easier to clear the air? This tension is suffocating. With this on your mind, you seem to surprise Natasha as much as yourself when your feet march you over to the swing on your left, and your knees bend to seat you. Her entire body tenses as yours nears her. You can tell that, since you’ve gone to great lengths to escape her company recently, this is the last thing she expected. (In all honesty you weren’t really expecting this either. What now?)

“You know that I’m in love with you, right?” Natasha says suddenly, and you freeze. Your chest tightens, and it’s like she’s wrapped herself around it, claiming your breath as her own.

“That’s not funny,” you reply in a small voice. “Don’t— don’t do that.”

“Do what?”

“Play with me like that.”

Her stomach lurches. “I’m being serious.”

You’re quiet for a moment. “Were you and Bucky ever actually together?”

“What?”

“Bucky Barnes. Were you with him when you were with me, too?” 

“N- no,” she says with vehement certainty. “I was — well, I guess it doesn’t really matter now, but when him and Steve were a secret I was his cover story. And I guess he was mine, so that I could… yeah.” She gestures towards you, pressing her lips together. 

“But even after they came out I was still a secret.”

“I—” Natasha says, and buries her face in her hands for a moment, because this is not how she hoped this would go. “Yes. And that was wrong of me. I’m sorry. I think I was trying to protect you, and me, and you from me because I know how messy I can be, and I wanted you so bad but I didn’t want to drag you down with me. And I still did anyway.” She sighs heavily.

“That’s an interesting way of showing affection,” you quip. 

“I know,” she says quietly. “And I’m sorry. I know I haven’t shown it well — at all — and I don’t really blame you for not believing me. Or, uh, hating me.”

“I don’t hate you,” you say softly.

Her shoulders sag. “Oh. W— well that’s good, then.”

“But I wish I did,” you add.

“No, yeah. That’s fair.”

“You’re really mean.”

Natasha just nods.

“And it’s even worse because I can’t even hate you because you can also be really nice.”

She nods again uncertainly. She’s not really sure how to respond to that.

“Why?”

“What?”

“Why are you so mean sometimes?”

This makes her stop up short. The way that both you and Yelena never fail to cut to the chase or ask the questions that nobody else would will always catch her off guard. “It’s kind of just who I am,” she begins, but at the way your face scrunches she adds, “or who I’ve decided to be, anyway. I don’t really know. I’m not sure… who I am.” Even uttering the statement aloud is a weight lifted from her shoulders. “It’s scary. I guess I… I thought that, like, I have to be the mean one, or someone else will first. To me. You know?”

“Why would anyone be mean to you?”

“Because I like girls,” she says truthfully, and there’s a tremor to her voice.. “And I’m not from here.”

You stare at her. “…? I like girls, and Yelena isn’t from here. No one is mean to us for it.”

“Because Yelena can and will beat the shit out of anyone that tries something,” Nat snorts. “But I just… I don’t know. It’s different for me.” You nod encouragingly and she adds with reluctance, “I don’t— belong here, not really. Or anywhere. I’m too American to be Russian and too Russian to be American. Ma and Baba and Yelena have it figured out, they’re just both and themselves and they don’t even have to think about it. But that’s not so easy for me.”

“Maybe,” you say carefully, “it’s to do with the people you choose to surround yourselves with. Is it possible that you’re… spending time with the wrong people? If you’re made to feel as though these things make you lesser.”

She shrugs. “Probably. But that doesn’t change the fact that I just… I really don’t have a lot going for me. So I kinda pretend that I do, and then it gets out of hand and I’ve convinced myself that I’m a lot more interesting than I am, to the point that I don’t know who me is. And I get all freaked out. And I’m so scared I kind of just shut off and try not to think, so I guess I’m just an asshole instead. Like it’s a reflex, you know? But it’s not really me. Nothing is me. My entire life is one perpetual identity crisis.” She drops her gaze to toe at the ground.

Your swing comes to a still as you clasp one of her hands between both of yours. They’re warm and perfectly manicured, and her eyes light up at the contact. “You don’t have to know who you are. You just have to exist, and you find out. I’m learning things about myself all the time, and so is Lena. This was my first relationship —” Nat’s stomach drops at the use of the word was “— and I’ve learnt a lot about myself and how I like to be treated. And Lena only came to terms with being aroace this year. Even Ma only just decided she’s demi,” you point out, and Nat can’t help but smile at this. (A little while ago, after Yelena first came out, you and Melina began joining her in attending weekly meetings at the local youth centre for young queer people and their parents. Your mama was determined to be a more educated advocate for her three queer daughters. Very recently, with all this new terminology at her disposal, she dropped into a dinnertime conversation in the presence of the whole family that she thinks she’s demi. “Not that it matters,” she added, “the only one for me is your father,” and she kissed his beaming crinkly cheek with a motherly tenderness. It was a beautiful moment to witness, despite Yelena’s playful booing.)

“I guess,” she says quietly. “Um, I’ve been talking to someone. Professional,” she adds at the look on your face. “Yelena said some stuff that made me realise I probably shouldn’t sort through this alone.”

“Yes, you shouldn’t,” you nod. Natasha raises an eyebrow at your ready agreement. “It’s not something to be ashamed of. Lena sees someone. I do too.”

She blinks. “Really?”

“Yes,” you laugh, “Baba takes me every other Thursday. I have horrible abandonment issues. I guess after everything that’s happened, I’ve kinda internalised some stuff.”

“I definitely took advantage of that,” Nat says guiltily. “I’m sorry. Honestly, I am.”

You look at her. “I know.” Your hand squeezes hers before letting go and she instantly aches to feel it again. “I’m sorry, too. For not… I don’t know, setting more boundaries. Or being more forceful.”

“No, no, it wasn’t your fault.”

You hum, and the two of you sit in silence for a long while as the sun begins to retire.

“You know,” you say suddenly, “you don’t have to move across the country. You can if you want, obviously, it’s your call, but if it’s just because of me… you don’t have to.”

“But-? I’m trying to give you space? To heal,” she says confusedly, and you laugh.

“And it’s very sweet, but I don’t need that much space. I’ve already forgiven you.”

Natasha’s soul leaves her body. “You— huh?”

“I have,” you laugh kindly. “I did some of my own thinking, and I just… I don’t know. I don’t think you need me being mad at you, on top of everything else going on in here.” You tap at her temple gently to emphasise your point, and she shivers. “And I don’t think I need that either. I don’t want to carry that with me.”

“Okay,” Natasha breathes. “T— thank you.”

You wrinkle your nose at her affectionately. “You’re silly.”

She’s awash with the overwhelming need to kiss you, and instead twitches a little, digging her nails into her palm. You take in the movement with such wide-eyed concern that she has to close her eyes for a moment, because she’s almost ill with how much she feels for you. This feeling only grows more intense as you continue.

“I know we’re… whatever we are, but… if there’s anything I can do for you, let me know,” you say more quietly. “I know you’ve been through some stuff, and even when you’re seeing someone for it it can get overwhelming. I do care about you.”

She nods, and swallows thickly. “ I don’t— I— uhm. What does this make us?”

You can hear her hopes heavy on her tongue, and your heart is like lead. “Friends?” you offer. “I— I don’t think we should be anything else, right now.”

Natasha nods, and swallows thickly. With it she swallows back the words but I love you. It must be written across her face, though, because you cup it between your hands (which really isn’t helping her self-restraint at all).

“I love you,” you tell her honestly. “And I always have. But love isn’t… you don’t… I don’t know. That kind of love is something that you earn, I think. And we both need to take care of ourselves.”

“I understand.” Natasha’s voice is hoarse, and barely above a whisper. “And I want you to feel like I respect your decision. But I also want you to feel like I’m serious. About you. And I will prove it if I have to.”

Against your own better judgement, you smile at her.

One thing about Natasha Romanoff is that she’s not a quitter.

Some would say it’s an endearing quality. More would probably tell her it’s the reason she finds herself in so many messes in the first place. What’s objectively certain is that she’s a stubborn little shit — and and with this determination she’s decided she’s going to win you back. Your slight encouragement, no matter how vague, is enough fuel for a fire that could simmer for months.

It starts as chocolates, and flowers. At this point she seems to have cottoned onto the fact that you’re not one for big, theatrical confessions of love, but rather consistent affirmations of it. Actions, not words, she’s heard you say (although now more than ever before she’s seeing for herself what you mean). So there’s no four-act sonnet recitals when you receive her gifts — although you don’t really receive them at all, in the traditional sense. Rather they seem to begin popping up everywhere you go. At one point you open your locker to a bouquet so over-endowed that flowers begin to tumble out onto the floor. Sam steps neatly to the side and watches with glee as you scramble to clean the mess. (He’s most definitely enjoying watching all of this play out.)

Your favourite of all these surprise gifts is probably one delivered by your own four-legged Cupid himself. Liho headbutts the door to your room open and stalks in with a scowl on his face and something attached to his collar. As soon as you remove it to inspect it he rolls onto his back and looks up at you expectantly, clearly expecting compensation for this favour.

“Yes, you’re a very handsome boy,” you tell him distractedly, using one hand to rub his belly while you attempt to unfurl the note he’s delivered with the other. Yelena lets out a noise of amusement. She’s perched on your bed with the Kardashians paused on her laptop in favour of watching this play out instead.

“You are so ungraceful,” she comments mildly, making no move to help you.

“I love how you always see the best in me,” you reply through gritted teeth.

After a moment, you manage to succeed in your task. I picked these for you :), the letter reads. You glance over at Liho’s collar again to see a tiny bunch of forget-me-nots, only slightly battered from their journey and bound neatly by brown twine.

“Another gift from the mystery girl?” Yelena teases, and you groan.

“Okay, saying mystery girl is officially banned. It’s giving me war flashbacks.”

“And that is fair,” your sister muses, getting to her feet to inspect your latest delivery. After she’s done she sits back on her heels. “You don’t have to keep turning her down, you know.”

“What do you mean?”

“Well, if it’s just because of me. You have my… blessing, or whatever. But on the condition that you’re not gross about it.” She rolls her eyes, and nudges your cheek with her nose. You squirm good-naturedly.

“Why thank you, your Grace.”

“Yes, I’m the graceful one,” she preens.

“Sure,” you snort, and she smirks. “Um, thank you, though. That’s good to know. I guess I’m still… figuring it out, but she’s growing on me again.” And it’s true. You have your reservations now, but she’s trying to remind you why you first fell for her (and yeah, she might be succeeding). Part of you wonders if she’s turning on the superficiality again, but after she spilled her guts to you on the swing set you’re trying to have faith that she really is turning a new leaf, and charming you authentically.

Yelena considers this. “Yes, okay. This makes sense. Remember to tell me if she tries anything again though. I will put them up.” She raises her fists and you giggle, but you know she’s at least partially serious. She’s very athletic in her own right and people at school go out of their way to avoid crossing her. That’s how you’ve stayed out of trouble your whole life — by standing behind Yelena and letting her handle it instead. Where you hesitate, she dives right in. You adore that about her, though.

“Do you know what you’ll do once she’s out of state?” Lena asks, and you shrug.

“Figure it out as we go, I guess. I don’t know if she’ll lose interest in me.”

The blonde looks up fiercely. “If she does that I will stick them up.”

You beam at her, admittedly less for the violence and more for the sentiment behind it. She beams back for reasons more ambiguous.

“Do you know what we will do?” Yelena queries. Upon your frown she elaborates, “next year when it is our turn to pick college. You and me, what will we do?”

“Pick the same one, and both get in because we’re super smart, and we’ll be roommates. And you can make us mac and cheese every night,” you say, as if it’s the most obvious thing in the world.

She contemplates this.

“Okay,” she says, seemingly satisfied with your answer. “Can we hit play now? I want to know what’s happen to Kim’s diamond earring.”

“Two cookies say she gets it back.”

“Two cookies say eat my ass the way a fish ate her earring,” she retorts, and the two of you settle on the bed again. (You have two more cookies than usual after dinner.)

Despite the witticism you take Yelena’s blessing with pride, and it means a lot more to you than you let on. Now that every single member of your family has shown their support for your relationship you can’t help but feel a slight ray of hope, the likes of which you thought had been stomped out long ago. Never before have you dared to imagine a situation where you could actually have a shot with the girl of your dreams, who you’ve wanted for as long as you can remember — and yet here you are, with her putting her back out working overtime to win you over, and your family watching with interest. Every morning you wake up a little warmer to the idea of letting this happen.

That doesn’t mean Natasha’s out of the woods yet, though, and you’re careful to make this clear to her. She senses your hesitance, and completely understands its presence. She’ll wait for you as long as it takes. (She’s genuinely stunned at how forgiving you have been of her, in all honesty.) In fact she takes your reluctances in her stride in a way that actually has you feeling more for her — but again, you know better than to repeat your mistakes of the past, and so you take this as slowly as you can considering she’s coming on strong and you live under the same roof.

Three months of summer lie ahead of you, stretching out like an endless expanse of sunset-tinted possibility. You and Yelena manage to land jobs at the video store in town — Yelena goes blazing into the interview and makes it clear as she can that the two of you are a package deal. Wong, the guy who runs the place, just seems grateful for the help.

The store becomes somewhat of a hangout spot for the two of you, who work the same hours and are joined at the hip like always, and it’s a safe bet to stop by if anyone wants to find you. Sam often swings by to playfully irritate the both of you, since the marina where his parents’ boat is docked is just round the corner, and Natasha will meet you when you’re closing to take you out for dinner after. (Sometimes Yelena tags along to these meals, and gleefully revels in the awkwardness her presence causes.) Since you and Yelena are twins again too, things are looking up for your friendship group and they’ve taken to visiting also. You’re delighted to spend time with them again. (Seeing Makkari’s face light up when she steps into the Deaf & Subtitled section of the store makes your whole week.)

In fact, word seems to have gotten out about the fact that Wong’s employed you, because one sleepy Tuesday afternoon Bucky Barnes drops by to rent a DVD. He picks one at random, not even glancing at the cover, and as you scan it through for him he says to you lowly, “thank you for making Natasha happy again. She cares so much about you.” He offers you a genuine smile before heading out abruptly and almost forgetting his DVD in the process. (You suspect his purchase was a mere means to talk to you.) It’s a strange interaction, but decidedly more pleasant than your last with him, so you take it no further.

Another perk of having this job is that you have your own money now. You’re not really sure what to do with it at first; the only thing that occurs to you is that you want to get a gift for Natasha. At the end of the summer is her graduation — she’ll walk and wear the square hat and everything, and you’re very excited to embarrass her with photos of the event — and after that she’ll leave for college. Her graduation is the perfect time to present her with said gift, you decide.

You know you want the gift to be meaningful, but you’re not really sure of the specifics. Luckily for you, one night on the roof with Natasha is all you need for the inspiration to strike.

Can’t sleep, you text her one night, after hours of fruitless tossing and turning.

She replies immediately.

Me neither

Come down to my room :)

If you want to!!! she adds after a moment, and you can’t help but smile to yourself. She is adorable.

Omw, you tell her, rolling out of bed.

The door is unlocked!!!!!! just come in

You follow her instructions and slip inside. The room is cosily lit, with her fairy lights on and her little lamp shaped like Calcifer flickering merrily; the bed is unmade, as if someone’s been in it recently, but Natasha herself is nowhere to be seen.

“Nat?” you call out uncertainly, and squeak in surprise when her head pops through the window. She smiles softly at your reaction.

“I’m out here,” she tells you. “C’mon, there’s space for both of us.” She wriggles along her perch on the flat row of tiles of the roof, and pats the empty spot beside her. Antics like this don’t faze you after twelve years of friendship with Yelena. You clamber out beside her readily.

“Hi,” says Natasha a little bashfully, once you’re settled. You lean up to peck her lips and she flushes. “Y— yeah. Um, hi.”

“Hi,” you reply sweetly. “It’s nice out here.”

“It is,” she agrees, her gaze not straying from you. You take no notice, though; your sights are set to the heavens. No matter how much you snipe about how annoying it is to live in a small town, the views still take your breath away. The stars shimmer bright above you, as they do almost every night. They’re not the only beautiful sight your town has to offer; Wanda adores the rocky hills at the edge of town, where many scavengers like squirrels and raccoons have made their home (one boy in your grade, Peter Quill, has befriended one of the raccoons and affectionately named him ‘Rocket’. He visits Rocket every day after lunch with his leftovers from the cafeteria). Occasionally she’s able to convince everyone in your group to accompany her hiking there. Despite your grumbling, it does make for an enjoyable day out.

“I come out here when I can’t sleep,” she tells you quietly.

“I sit on the roof sometimes,” you reply, and you beam at each other. It’s true — you do, but sharing the information feels vulnerable. You’ve figured out how to hoist yourself up through the skylight in the loft and onto the utmost point of the house, but it’s an activity you’ve kept as your own for now. While you adore more than anything being twins with Yelena, and living your life with her, you’re also learning how to exist by yourself for the first time in your life, and enjoying having your own space. Your little corner in the attic has afforded you many freedoms, and not just material ones.

“You see the moon?” Nat asks. The planet in question hangs round and heavy over the horizon, not quite full.

“How could I miss her?” She’s the most beautiful thing in sight.

“You know the difference between waxing and waning?” Natasha prompts, and you shake your head, solely because you love when she talks about her passions. “Waxing is when the moon transitions from a new moon to a full moon — so she fills out. See, that’s what she’s doing now.”

“She’s nearly full,” you remark quietly.

“Yup.” She grins. “Now when she’s waxing, she fills in from the right side — so she kinda looks like a C.” She makes a C shape with her left hand and holds it up against the sky to confirm that, yes, while the moon is waxing it vaguely resembles the letter. “But soon she’ll start to wane — maybe next week? After the full moon. Waning is the transition from the full moon back to the new moon, so she shrinks away into nothing. She’s eaten away from the left side, so she looks like a reverse C.” Nat makes a C shape with her right hand this time, so that it’s reversed, and holds it up to compare to the moon. They don’t match up right now, but they’ll get there someday.

“This is my favourite period though,” she confesses, her voice dropping a little lower, “of the lunar cycle. When the moon is waxing.”

“Why?”

“Because it feels,” she hesitates. “I don’t know. It feels like gross to say out loud but it kinda just feels like, encouraging. Things are always changing. They won’t be like this forever, you know? The cycle keeps on repeating itself.”

“The cycle keeps on repeating itself,” you repeat, and she smiles at you.

“Yeah. You don’t think it’s… dumb? I don’t know, I’ve never brought anyone else up here. I —”

“I don’t think that at all,” you tell her, and she kisses you gently.

The next day you go out and buy a crescent moon necklace.

Natasha has been coming into your room more and more often lately, and you don’t trust yourself to not leave it lying around in plain sight, so one day while she’s out you enlist Alexi’s help to loosen one of the floorboards in the attic so you can stash things under it inconspicuously.

“It’s not for anything suspicious,” you tell him quickly, “you can look under it whenever you want. It’s just to hide gifts and —”

“Relax, sunflower,” he chuckles, “you are entitled to your secrets.”

The necklace stays hidden there until summer draws to a close.

The weeks fly by in a golden haze and before you know it, you’re getting ready for Natasha’s graduation.

Alexi is stood on the landing in his smartest suit, and flexing proudly in the mirror on the wall. “It still fits!” he booms triumphantly.

“Don’t forget to wear your nice shirt, любовь,” Melina calls up the stairs to him. “No one with holes in.” He deflates a little, and retreats back into their bedroom to change.

“He looks fine,” Yelena scolds half-heartedly as she lumbers down the stairs, holding out her wrists to Melina. “Can you do my cufflinks?”

“Where’s your please?” Melina retorts, but she sets her clutch down so she can use both hands to help her daughter.

“We have to leave in ten minutes,” Natasha announces as she bursts from her own room. “Семья, I know what you are like, and we cannot be late.”

“Relax, love.” Alexi reemerges from the bedroom in a different shirt this time. “I will go and start the car,” he starts down the stairs, “and— oh.” He pauses as several buttons pop off his shirt simultaneously. “Ебать.” He turns around and subduedly makes his way back up the stairs.

“Baba,” Natasha groans. “This is what I mean.”

“Hey! I am nearly ready,” says Yelena indignantly, nodding at her mother in thanks for doing her cufflinks before ducking in front of the mirror. “Oh shit, where is my tie?”

“Language,” reprimands Melina.

“See?” Natasha sighs exasperatedly. “Y/N/N is the only one who’s ready.” She hurries down the stairs to where you’re stood in the hall, watching the scene unfold serenely. You’ve been ready to leave for the last ten minutes. She beams at you and pecks you on the cheek just shy of your lips. You flush, and the crescent moon necklace burns a hole in your pocket. Now isn’t the time, though.

Eventually, you all make it into the car, with everyone now sporting correctly-fitting outfits. As always on car journeys, you’re in the back, sandwiched in the middle between Natasha and Yelena. Lena scrolls through her phone disinterestedly, headphones in, while Natasha vibrates on your other side with anticipation and nerves. You take one of her hands between both of yours and she stills instantly.

“I am very proud of you,” you say quietly, “to have made it this far, with these grades. You’ve gotten into your dream college. You can do anything. Today will go fine.”

She doesn’t speak for fear of bawling and potentially ruining her eyeliner, so instead she rests her head on your shoulder in silent gratitude. She doesn’t move until you arrive, at which point she shows you all to your seats (front row, you note) and disappears to the backstage meeting point for all of the graduates.

The actual ceremony doesn’t begin for a while, so Melina converses with the other parents seated around her while Alexi nods politely, and you and Yelena compete in a thumb war. Eventually Principal Rambeau steps onto the stage and a silence settles on the gathered audience.

“Thank you all for attending,” she begins. “We’re here to celebrate our wonderful seniors, who have put in so much work to make it here today, and walk this stage.” She continues like that for a short while before they begin to call the students’ names, and they each walk across the stage in turn to claim their diploma. Natasha is a little later on the register, so you just sit back and enjoy the show — you’ve lived in this small town all your life, where most people know of each other, and so you recognise or even know the vast majority of the people who make their way across the stage. Some of them choose to make a memorable exit from their high school career (like Happy Hogan who chooses to breakdance his way across the stage, or Ned Leeds who walks proudly in a hot dog suit), whereas others take the more graceful route (see Valkyrie King, a prominent athlete of the school, who walks with confidence and regally basks in everyone’s recognition of her). When Natasha Romanova-Shostakov is called, she walks the stage a little bashfully, and with a blush accepts the cheers showered upon her after several years of being the cheer team’s star. You clap and shout louder than anyone else, and to Yelena’s glee capture several shots of her in her square graduate cap. Front row seat privilege. 

After the presentations, the students flood into the crowd and people break off into little groups. The air hums with the joy of people laughing and congratulating and embracing one another. Natasha makes her way over to you and Yelena, who are stood now with your parents beside the refreshments. She brightens when she spots you, and is instantly by your side, pressing a kiss to your cheek.

“There is my girl!” Melina cheers. An outbreak of hugging ensues.

You mingle politely for a while with the other families milling around your own. Natasha appears intermittently, being the centre of attention today. Yelena is by your side (with her arm annoyingly resting on your shoulder to remind you that she’s taller) until one of her hockey friends pilfers her to show her something. In the few moments that you’re unaccompanied, Natasha resurfaces from the crowd, takes your arm and leads you somewhere a little quieter, and a little less visible to the masses.

“I just, um,” she realises she’s still holding your arm and lets go of it with a blush, “I wanted to thank you for being here. Like actually. It means a lot to me. I know— I know that in a couple of weeks I won’t be here properly, and it might make things weird, but —”

Now is the perfect time, you decide. As she continues to nervously ramble you pull the crescent moon necklace in its little velvet box from your pocket, and present it to her. She falls silent and looks at you.

“It’s for you,” you say unnecessarily, opening it to show her the treasure inside. Her eyes widen. “I— I want to do this with you. I want to give us a try. I like being with you.”

And as you clasp the delicate chain around her neck, and lean up to press a chaste kiss to her lips, Natasha understands. Love is something you earn.

She entwines your hand with hers, and together the two of you make your way back towards your family.

[d0g-water]

Quackity giving reader a surprise visit after a long distance relationship? :o

I imagine he he would not tell the reader anything until he met her face to face 😭😭

you and quackity have been dating for months now, yet still haven't met.

he's always busy with these giant projects and events he participates in; you, on the other hand, had a full schedule as well. so meeting up was a plan that was pretty difficult to arrange a date for.

you are a member of a small rock band, with many rehearsals and meetings up your sleeve. the band has been growing as of lately, and you always think about how supportive your lovely boyfriend is. telling you how talented you are, how he'd love to watch you perform one day, even though you weren't the main vocalist. however, you did have your own song, and alexis added it to his public playlist.

he's so adorable. he knows that none of his fans have a single clue that he is dating someone who wrote one of his favorite songs, but he still tries his best to help you and your bandmates out.

right now, things are getting a bit shaky. since the band finally has enough fans to go on tour, it meant more practicing and less time with alexis.

you were going to perform near his city, but he said he couldn't come. he talked about being just as upset as you were, and that he'd rather go see you than leave to a different state to participate in one of his friend's projects.

you didn't take it to heart because you two still had so many opportunities to see each other.

the night before the concert, you suddenly had an empty feeling. you were going to be near your boyfriend, but you couldn't see him.

you tell him about it, his messages making you feel better, but you still wanted him to show up...

[Today, 3:04 A.M.]

alex <3: hey, we'll see each other soon, okay?

alex <3: i love you so much.

alex <3: i'm going to spend hours scrolling to find video concerts of you.

you hold these messages close to your heart, wanting to tear up and just sob your eyes out but you couldn't.

tonight is all about singing for a crowd that sold out this venue. everyone is cheering for you,

but something felt odd.

your gut tells your eyes to scan the front row for some reason, even though you shouldn't, otherwise you'll get distracted and mess up.

and... despite doing it anyway, you realize that...

you really shouldn't have.

alexis was literally in the fucking crowd.

he wore a white shirt with your band's latest album on it and a black bucket hat. you nearly choked, your eyes widening, as he's looking directly at you and giving you an idiotic smile.

he really made sure this was a surprise.

as much as you wanted to throw your guitar and run off stage, you couldn't. you have to wait a whole two hours to do so.

......

post-performance, your bandmates noticed that you performed less decent than usual. they wanted to check up on you and possibly lecture that this is something serious, and if you wanted to grow bigger, than you have to do your best.

you didn't really want to hear that right now.

you want to see your boyfriend.

"fuck, where is he..." you pant out, running around the empty venue with your bandmates chasing you from far away, praying to god that alexis didn't leave.

you've been waiting what felt like years for this, you spent so long yearning for his touch, you spent so many nights crying over the letters and gifts he's sent you.

now, he's somewhere within a five-hundred feet radius.

you call out his name after breaking into every single room in the damn building, desperate, and out of your mind trying to look for this guy. your bandmates were trying to stop you, telling you that he's left already and that you should go.

you're not a stubborn girl, but today, you're not letting anything get in the way of meeting the love of your life.

there's so much you want to tell him, there's so much you want to do, there's so much you want to give him...

but it seems like everything is worthless, you can't find him. you've completely lost all home. you spent almost thirty minutes looking for him, you looked through the whole place, yet you still couldn't find him.

black tears roll down your face, your eyelashes getting sticky, your vision getting blurry. fuck, maybe you should have ran off the stage after all...

your bandmates lost you, and you don't really feel like finding them. instead, you're going to sit outside and cry.

the front is so empty, the ticket booth was closed, as well as the merch shop. the only thing available was some lonely bench by the singular trash can in front of the gates.

however, there was something in the distance, but you couldn't tell what it was. you're still crying your eyes out, almost cleaning up your makeup.

you sniffled and hiccuped on your way to sit down, wiping your tears with sweaty palms, not noticing the figure growing bigger...

something was white and tan, it was taking up your view of the world.

you were about to walk away, as you couldn't deal with anything right now, until that same unusual stature had a voice you recognized almost immediately--

"oh my god, is that y/n from the band i just saw? i'm a huge fan!"

...asshole.

you sprint into his arms so fucking quick, as they wrap around you so tight it almost relieves every single need in your body.

god. you're finally in them, and you're not even dreaming.

you're in so deep, and what brings you in even more is his voice, right in your ear, say "i love you."

you can't take these words anymore, you're sick of them, you need something more. you pull away from his grasp, using the collar of your shirt to clear up your vision and wipe the lower part of your face.

he looks at you with the shiniest eyes, looking like he was about to say something, but was too late to say it.

you forcefully grab his shoulders, stealing his lips quickly, acting like somebody was around and getting to it before you could.

you've never felt so strong about something. you sing and write these things like it was a goal in your life, merely convinced that you wouldn't experience shit like this...

he could feel how bewildered you are, he could sense that you didn't want to break this kiss, knowing that the two of you are losing oxygen...

alexis holds your waist, as his lips leave yours, making you upset.

he smiles so widely, his face turning pink.

"you're not the type to want breaks, huh?" he teases.

your eyebrows narrow, grumbling at him, "you kept me waiting for so long."

his giggles in person were so much cuter than over-the-screen...

you love him so much.

[deadpool15]

Million Dollar Baby- Pt1

Aerin Creer shall be the OC for this fic. It will be in parts.

The outfit that she is wearing will always be in the pic above. the character is 23 years old, while Byeon is about 25.

All repressive characters will be the same as before.

So, you guys won her powers, which will be telekinesis

There will be russian in the story and maybe even korean, but I will limit it to little things.

I'm using a translator, so I'm sorry if it's incorrect

Age 9

"You all need to realize there are privileges in this world, and eating is one of them. So, hit harder, or you will starve." A man yells over all the chaos of the fighting children. I never learned their names except Alexi. My torment and pain were caused by him. Though, my entire existence was purely for kicks. Apparently, my overly obsessed mother believed she could create the perfect child for her husband or, more so, my father. He was a powerful man in a country where the only law to exist was his own. Some say he was the devil himself, but all my mother saw was the love of her life. Drugging herself with experiments and foreign concoctions to make the perfect soldier. She died during childbirth, or that's what I like to think. My mother died that night, and some women took care of me for 4 years. Eventually, she had a deal with some goons, taking money she couldn't afford. And in turn, they took her child.

A living nightmare, one way to describe my current situation. We are trained day in and out to be the obedient warriors that will be the next generation for Pavel. It's where I met Ryu Shi-oh or he met me. "Get up and fight. Or your a worthless fucking nobody and we aren't investing time in that bullshit." Alexi screamed at me, after being hit so many times I couldn't get back up. Everything hurt. They had gathered us all around to fight as a presentation to the leaders. Alexi told me if I embarrassed him, he would beat rhe shit out of me. What else was new, though? "Get up right fucking now!" I stared at the ground before something clicked inside of me. It's like I didn't give a single fuck about the outcome. "Shut the fuck up." I stared up at him as if looks could kill hoping he would explode right there before my eyes. All the children turned around, shocked, while stopping. Alexi laughs out loud before shoving me. "Get your fucking hands off me you little dick asshole!" I yelled at him. For the first time in my life I yelled. I was fighting back. Usually, I'm pretty sure he would love this, but since he had thr higher ups here, he was beyond pissed.

I could see Shi-oh in the corner of the room, motioning for me to stop. But this time, I wasn't backing down. Before I could think he punched me. Rocking my body all the way down to the floor. "The fuck did you say, say it again bitch. Go on, I dare you. I'll fucking chop you into pieces and feed you to rhe dogs!" The old me would've sat there in tears, fearing for my life. The silent room was shaken by my loud, obnoxious laugh. If there was one thing I had learned in my lifetime, men wouldn't like to be challenged. He stormed over to me and punched me yet again. Then, I started to kick me in the stop over and over again. Though, I kept laughing, refusing to give him the satisfaction. My ribs were sore, some probably broken before I grew tired of it. I started to cry while laughing, I'm pretty sure I looked like a manic to everyone in the room.

I started yelling stop, I just wanted in to be over. I was done with the pain and suffering. But he kept going, like always no one ever listened to me. Before he reaches to kick me again, a force pushes him back, clasing into the wall. A crack had been heard, and anyone could tell his skull had been split open. Though, he wasn't dead yet, no, not quite. I continue to laugh as everyone backs away from me, I see the higher ups standing from their chairs in amazement and slight fear. I push myself up off the grown and see Alexi. He looked like shit, maybe even worse than me. I turn to look at my broken finger and move to crack it back in place before it does it on its own. I hear whimpering, I turn to the crushed in wall. "Are you fucking crying, you have to be fucking with me right now." I laugh out loud holding my bruised ribs while staring at him. "H-help me." It looked like its body had been piered into the wall, I saw some of his insides. I went to turn until I realized he wasn't going to shut up. The constant whining from the man who loves man. How ironic.

I had no idea what was going on, yet for some reason, my body felt like it was on fire. Everything was so loud. My skin felt itchy, and my head was pounding. My senses felt hyper, and I was overwhelmed by everything around me. What the fuck was happening? "Be quiet....Be quiet." I just wanted it to stop. His cries felt like they were drilling into my skull. Yet he wouldn't stop. I didn't even realize I had thrown my hands up in rhe sir to cover my ears before I screamed out, "MAKE IT STOP!" The lights shattered to the floors, and some of the children dropped dead, with their eyes, nose, and ears leaking blood. Brain particles were scattered across the floor. Alexi was dropped from the wall, yet his head was still inside of the wall. Decapitated completely from his body with pieces of his spinal cord attached to it. I was so exhausted. I only remember myself falling to the ground while seeing Shi-oh running in my direction, screaming.

The Pavel leaders stood up immediately at the sight of everything around them. Some were in complete distress while seeing the future soldiers laying across the floor dead. Yet, the man in charge was only thinking one thing. Magnificent. He couldn't believe his eyes. That child had killed approximately 10 people in a room with so much as moving a muscle or a weapon near. He was used to good fighters, but this was a whole new level. She was the future, and seeing Shi-oh walk right up to her and help was just simply the best. The young boy whole showed promise faithfully in love with the girl who had mysterious abilities all in his hands. Seems everything would work out. "My precious дети." Oo, did he have plans for them. They would take everything, their futures were so bright. He would make sure they stayed on the path.

Present time

I stepped out of my car, grabbing my cat. All gifts from a certain someone whom I was visiting. Noticing a black jeep trying to be secretive, yet I paid no mind to it. Making my way inside of the building. Needing no introduction considering everyone knows who I am. Or just my status, one would say. "He is right in his office ma'am though he is busy with a worker." His secretary tells me while looking around nervously. "Never too busy for me, though, right?" He just nods and leads me to the door. We make it there with him trying to knock before I feel like this is all taking too long and pushing the door open. I hear him telling me to wait a moment, but it falls to deaf ears. I walked in, noticing now while he wanted me to wait. A girl around my height is sitting down, talking to Shi-oh. They haven't noticed me yet, so I sat there and waited in silence until she passed him her phone and he put his number in. Eventually, she leaves while she notices my presence and smiles at me while saying hi. I give her a fake smile and walk father in the room.

"The fuck was that, huh?" He turns around finally seeing me. Walking over and hugging while lifting me off the ground. Still holding me the air, which is easy due to our size difference. "My beautiful лепесток. What are you doing here?" I stared at him. He always had a habit of making it difficult to angry at him. "I was coming to see you." I motion for him to lower me down, and I sit my cat on the floor. Watching it walk around the office, I get startled again when he picks me up and sits down in his chair at his desk with me on his lap. "Before you get ready to hurt me, I was simply recruiting her to a higher position." I poke my finger deeply into his chest. "Why you wanna fuck her?" He slowly looks up, as if he is thinking about the question. While he is doing that, the objects start to lift around the room, and he takes notice. "No,I don't want to fuck her or anything like that. But she is strong, very strong. I've seen it first hand лепесток. She will be uselful." I simply smile at him before I peck his lips.

Moving closer on his lap, I start to slowly kiss his lips again. Getting lost in the plump lips I love so much. Before he reaches my face to take my shades off. He lowers his hands and grips my hips. "You are so fucking beautiful, baby. Why the fuck would I want her when I have all this." I start to grind on his lap, while the desk moves backward. Needing more room. "And don't you forget it. Gonna change the world, baby."

I'll post every Saturday for this story.

Taglist: @seonghwaexile

[yourmomsawh0r3]

the oscars

Pedro Pascal x f!reader

summary: pedro pascal and his wife take on the oscar’s as she is nominated for her new movie

a/n: this was my first time writing fan fiction bitchessss obviously it’s not the best

PART 2 is up now bbs <3

the night was young, you were in the living room of your shared home with Pedro getting glammed up by your team for the Oscars. As they finished up the last touches of your makeup and hair, you went into the bedroom to get into your dress, looking into the mirror "damn I look good." you said "fucking right you do" the voice of your husband Pedro said behind you "mami you look breathtaking." he says as he grabs you from behind staring at you lovingly in the mirror, he lightly kisses your temple just as, "CARS HERE!" your assistant yelled. "let's go bebe" you say grabbing his hand and walking to the car.

As you guys pulled up to the Oscars red carpet, you could hear the fans screaming along with the paparazzi. you two stepped out of the vehicle hand in hand, everyone was going crazy, as you made your way down the red carpet taking photos with your Pedro you heard one of the paparazzi guys say " Y/N are you excited to be nominated for your new movie ?" "I am beyond thrilled to be nominated for the movie "No Hard Feelings", my castmates and I worked so hard on this movie, and I'm so glad people really enjoyed it" Pedro gave your ass a squeeze while taking pictures, with that all you could do was laugh. you didn't think you were that nervous for the Oscars. Making your way inside, you head STRAIGHT to the bar "I need a drink before this shit starts, I don't think I can go up there without liquid courage" Downing your drink in one go, Pedro laughed.. he grabbed your hand and walked towards your reserved seats.

while sitting there fidgeting with your husbands wedding band on his finger you thought going through the list of awards is gonna take forever. That was until your name was called and your character Maddie from the movie was displayed across the big screen. "why does my head look so big? i mean seriously out of all clips from the movie”you leaned over giggling at Pedro all he could do was shake his head and laugh. "your overreacting, your head is a perfect shape baby, you will always be beautiful to me." " AND THE AWARD FOR BEST FEMALE ACTRESS GOES TO..." you legit felt like you were gonna throw up. "Y/N L/N for Maddie in no hard feelings!" you looked at Pedro with your jaw dropped, he was smiling cheek to cheek

“i’m so proud of you, go baby go accept your award!" as he gave you a steamy quick kiss

the song from your movie "Maneater (live) by Andrew Barth Feldman played at 1:24" played in the background. holding onto your long dress you walked up the stairs to the stage, thank the lord you didn't trip and eat the ground. is all you can think in your head. "congratulations y/n, do you have anything you would like to say" smiling you take your award and start speaking into the podium mic "fuck, IM IN SHOCK.. am i allowed to say that?” the people back stage shake their head no. “no? wow okay, well first I would like to thank my husband pedro pascal, and my kids alexis and antonio without them I wouldn't be where I am today, I would like to thank the cast and all of the crew it took to make this movie, I would also like to thank my manager, publicist, and my assistant, lastly i would like to thank my fans, you guys are my everything i love you all so much. WHEW now i'm ready to get drunk and shake ass at the afterparty" The whole crowd laughed and cheered as you made your way down the stairs with your award heading back to your seat. "i love you cariño" pedro says as he grabs your face and kisses you deeply.

[mayajadewrites]

Sweet Secret (Levi Ackerman x Reader)

Pairing: Levi Ackerman x F! Reader CEO Levi Ackerman coming in hot. I've been wanting to write a CEO Levi/Sugar daddy Levi story for a hot minute. Enjoy! Summary: You needed a job. Ackerman Inc was hiring for an in house assistant for none other than the CEO: Levi Ackerman. He's known to be essentially the worst to work with, you decide to take the job and take on the challenge that is Levi Ackerman. Will your relationship remain professional, or will their be monetary value added to the stakes? Or possibly even... love? ao3 Chapter Five: Arrangement

The work day is finally over and you could not be more relieved to go home. Levi piled on work for you already - you’ve been scheduling meetings for him all day while also making sure the office is clean. 

Not to mention he’s been avoiding you like the plague.

You packed up your tote, gently sliding your laptop in the bag. When you look up you see Levi exiting his office, locking the door behind him. 

For the first time in hours, he looked at you. He looks… exhausted. You notice the dark circles under his eyes as he starts walking toward you.

Your eyes locked with his and time felt like it stopped. You were almost consumed by the way he looked at you. 

You cleared your throat to break the tension - although you wanted to throw yourself on him and let him devour your body. 

“Let’s go.” He said lowly as he gripped his briefcase. You nod and follow him, careful not to walk next to him.

Silence.

That was all you heard the entire night.

Silence.

You can’t help but wonder if you did something wrong. Maybe Levi regrets giving you a chance at a job. After all, you’re just a broke woman who was desperate for a job.

You let out a deep sigh that you felt like you were holding in for hours. Just then, your phone pings with a message from your sister.

> How was your first day?!

It was regular. A lot of work but my coworkers seem nice. <

> I’m so happy for you! I’m going out tonight, just watch my location for me please!

Lex… please be careful. <

Your sister always worried you when she went out. She has a tendency to drink until she can’t see anymore. She’s 18, so you don’t blame her, but she’s already mixing herself in the wrong crowd.

She’s legally an adult now. Nothing more you can do.

You turn your phone’s volume up in case Alexis calls you, but you fall asleep praying that that call never comes.

______________________________

The next week you feel like you’re walking on eggshells around Levi, but you’re getting work done and you haven’t seemed to upset him just yet. Even Erwin is impressed with what you’ve done so far.

“We’re gonna have to get you to master Levi’s cup of tea.” Erwin joked as he took a sip of his coffee. “He’s quite particular.” 

“Don’t I know it.” You laugh as you finish replenishing the break room with supplies. “I don’t even dare try to make it for him. He would probably spit it right out.”

You can’t help but feel like you’re missing Levi. The conversations you’re having with him are very one sided, and always about work. It’s not the same Levi you spent time with. It’s the Levi that everyone else sees.

You haven’t cooked together all week. He hasn’t brought you tea since the first day. Once you arrive home, it’s almost like you don’t exist. He sometimes needs you to call someone at home, but he’ll text you the instructions.

__________________________

You’re doing you’re daily cleaning at the house when you hear Levi’s footsteps.

“Oi, come here.” Levi called for you in the kitchen.

“Yes Levi?” You stand next to him, not sure what he’s going to say next. 

“I have something I want to run by you, and you can say no.” 

“Okay…” You raise an eyebrow, placing your hands on the counter. 

“How would you feel about… an arrangement between you and I?”

“Excuse me?” 

“An… arrangement.” 

“I heard what you said.” Your eyes wander to his. “You have to be more specific. What kind of arrangement?”

“One where I give you money and you do things with me.”

“I already work for you.” 

“No.” Levi shakes his head. “I don’t mean that. I mean, you come with me to events, vacations, and I give you money. Or an… allowance.”

“I’m confused. You already pay me-“

“To be my assistant, yes.” Levi plants his hands on the counter, looking down at his fingertips. “You and I get along quite well I think.” 

“I would say so.” 

“I don’t usually like anyone. And I like you.” Levi peers through his jet black locks to look at you. “I’m offering money for you spending time with me.”

You’re stunned. This man really thinks you’re a charity case. The last thing you want from Levi is his money just because you’re broke.

“I don’t want your money, Levi.” 

“I know you send your sister money.” Levi crossed his arms over his chest. “And I know you want to experience all that life has to offer. I can give that to you, no emotions attached.” 

“I’m not a tax write off, Levi. You can’t help me to make yourself feel better.”

“I’m not doing this for me. Well, I kind of am. I’ve done this arrangement before with women but they were only interested in the money. We could never talk - I don’t think they ever even stepped foot in my house.”

You look at Levi who looks… vulnerable. You want to hug him so tightly it feels like you’re glued to him. 

“You’ve… done this before?” 

“Yeah. I’m not good at connecting with people.” 

“So you’ve paid for se-“

“If we had sex, it was consensual and I did not pay for it.” Levi tilted his head to the side. “It was a bonus.” 

You nod your head, thinking about what this ‘arrangement’ entails. You’re already his assistant, and already living in his house. 

It would be nice to go on vacation once in a while. You’ve never actually been on vacation before. The farthest you’ve gone was a dirty beach 30 minutes from your house that your parents dragged you to just so they could get their fix.

“If I agree to this, we need to make rules.” You finally speak.

“Fire away.” Levi’s voice sounds like velvet. 

This man knows exactly what he’s doing.

“No markings. Where anyone can see, at least.” 

You peaked Levi’s interest at the words ‘where anyone can see’. His eyebrows raised as he took a mental note of your rule.

“Go on.” Levi tapped the counter with his fingertips. 

“I do not want special treatment at work. I would rather it be… our little secret.”

“Okay, anything else?”

“I want to sleep in my own bed. So no sharing beds even after we…”

“Fuck?” 

“Levi.” You roll your eyes. “IF we do.” 

You know damn well that if is more like a when.

“Do you have any rules you would like to present to the court today?” You press your chin to the palm of your hand, leaning over the counter.

“No affection outside of bedroom activities. This is a transaction almost - no emotions. Don’t expect me to kiss you good morning or any of that shit.” 

“Okay. Can I date other people or would you rather me not?”

Your question seemed to have stumped Levi. He searched your face for an answer because he couldn’t come up with one himself.

“For now, if you find someone you want to pursue, tell me. If you’re sleeping with someone else I would rather you not sleep with me also.”

You nod as you hold your hand out. “So we have a deal?”

Levi chuckles only for a second before shaking your hand. “Deal.” 

As Levi turns around, you think about what you just agreed to. Levi Ackerman is not only your boss, but he’s also your sugar daddy. Ymir would be so proud of you right now, while Historia would be silently judging. 

You can’t lie, you’ve thought about pressing your lips to Levi’s pillow soft ones – exploring every inch of his body. His callused hands massaging your thighs while sneaking in squeezes to your ass.

Your eyes linger to Levi’s back once again, observing the way his muscles are moving under his black t-shirt. Your eyes then went to his neck, then his undercut that’s begging to be touched.

To distract yourself from the heat that’s pooling in your core, you text Ymir.

> Ymir.

Don’t start off a conversation like that. What’s up? <

> My boss is now also my sugar daddy.

INCOMING CALL FROM YMIR

You almost run to your room and close the door behind you. 

“Bitch I text you for a reason!!” You half whisper.

“You cannot just text me that Levi Ackerman is now your sugar daddy and not expect me to call you! I didn’t think you had it in you kid!”

“We just discussed it. He brought it up.”

“That’s probably why he was so quiet with you this week.” Ymir says as she pulls the phone between her ear and shoulder. “He wanted to make sure that he knew what he wanted and what he wanted to say to you.” 

“I’m nervous, Ymir.” 

“Girl you are living the DREAM! I know I like women but Levi is a handsome ass man. And you don’t have to worry about him feeling some type of way about anything because there are no emotions!”

You don’t know if that’s a blessing or a curse. 

You hear Levi’s footsteps going up the stairs, making your heart race.

“I gotta go.” 

“Tell me how big his di-“ You hang up, throwing your phone on your bed. You pretend to be folding your laundry when you hear a knock.

“Come in.”

“Hey, just wanted to make sure you’re okay with everything.” Levi leaned against the doorframe. “I know it was out of the blue. Well, for you at least.”

“I’m okay. I’m okay with it. I’m okay with this.” You nod, finally looking at Levi. His eyes are already on you when your gazes meet. Your heart starts to beat a bit faster. 

In the back of your mind you still wonder if this is just to fuel Levi’s ego. You don’t know this man. You don’t know his motives.

Levi silently walks to you, analyzing your face. You watch his grey eyes linger on your skin, as if he’s exploring new territory. His hand reaches to your hair and pushes it behind your ear softly, sending chills down your spine.

You peer through your lashes, getting lost in Levi’s eyes. You could stare at him for hours without getting bored.

This no affection thing might be your downfall.

[shesmyboot]

Baby Severide - Chapter 5: 51 Meets Baby

*Gif belongs to its rightful owner, it is not mine*

Pairing: Kelly Severide x reader

Summary: 51 has a slow day on shift and takes a road trip to Med… to meet Baby Severide

Words: 663

Warnings: hospitals

Read on Ao3 here

Next Chapter: Chapter 6

Notes: I wanted to post this earlier, but wanted to fulfill the request that spent almost a month sitting in my drafts. Also, yes, I am aware of how short this chapter is. The next one is longer, I promise. As always, a reblog of any chapter earns a tag in chapter posted after that! Enjoy!

Join my taglist here

Tags: @district447 @mrspeacem1nusone @tringeorge @storiesofsvu @cfdhouse51 @skullcupcakes @whatismypurpos @carnationworld @youraveragedorkysimp @treehouse-mouse @witchywinchester99 @keabbs @marvelcharactersxreader

——

As you wiped the tears from your eyes, there was a cheerful knock at the door.

“Come in,” you announced.

Sylvie peeked her head in the room.

“Hey girl,” she laughed, “how you feeling?”

“I’m good,” you paused, “yeah, I’m okay.”

“Is now a good time? We’ve got some firefighters here who’d like to meet her.”

“I’ll let you meet her first.”

Coming over to the crib, Sylvie was in awe. You picked Alexis up and set her in Sylvie’s ready arms. 

“What’s this babe’s name?” She asked, bouncing Alexis slightly. 

“Alexis Shay Severide.”

“Aw, I love that. What did your mom think of you name your daughter after your sister?”

“She’s not so pleased, but she’ll get over it when she meets her. She’ll be here in a few days I hope.”

“She’ll fall in love with Alexis as soon as she meets her.”

Matt knocked on the door and came up behind Sylvie.

“Is this her?” Matt a sled, looking over at Kelly. 

“This is her,” Kelly smiled back.

You began to tear up again as you watched Sylvie and Matt fall in love with Alexis. Kelly sat beside you and you rested your head on his shoulder. 

“When’s your turn?” Kelly chuckled.

“One firehouse baby at a time,” Matt laughed, “we’ve been thinking about it though.”

“Matt do you want to hold her?” Sylvie asked.

Matt stuttered over his words before finally smiling and admitting, “I’ll absolutely take her.”

As Sylvie handed Alexis over, you and Kelly shared a look and a nod.

“What was that about?” Sylvie asked, gesturing to the nod she just witnessed.

“Kelly and I would like to ask you both if you’d be Alexis’ godparents,” you admitted.

Sylvie and Matt looked at each other, both speechless.

“Of course,” Matt answered.

Kelly stood up, leaning into Matt for a hug.

“Thank you, both of you,” Kelly said, pulling away from Matt and sitting in the chair beside you. 

Joe poked his head in the door.

“Hey, Severide. Mind if I bring in a few more smoke eaters?” Joe asked.

“Not at all. Who’s here?” Kelly replied.

“Everyone. Chief took the firehouse out of service for an hour or two.”

A few moments later, all of 51 poured into your recovery room, the air swelling with love. Everyone took turns passing your baby around and asking how you were doing.

“How you feeling, Severide?” Herrmann asked.

“I’m still in shock, but it got a great wife to be able to be a great father.”

“No feeling like being a father. After every kid Cindy and I had, I was still in shock. That’s normal.”

“Thanks Herrmann.”

Boden walked over to you and Kelly, gaining to attention of the crowd.

“I hate to cut this party short, but HQ has requested a return to quarters,” he announced.

“C’mon Chief, Severide will only be a first-time dad once,” Cruz argued.

“I know, I know,” he sighed, “I’ll make Kelly bring the baby by 51 soon.”

Otis handed you back Alexis and gathered his gear from the corner.

“Congratulations to you both. Really is a special day. Bring this baby by the firehouse real soon, would you? She’s a great morale boost,” Boden chuckled.

“Thank you all for coming. It’s good to know she’s got a community looking out for her,” you responded, tearing up once again.

As your room emptied, you and Kelly had a few moments to yourself with Alexis. You handed Alexis to her daddy’s very capable hands and Kelly sat in your bed beside you.

“You know what baby?” Kelly told you.

“What’s up?”

“I’m really proud of you today. Thank you for bringing our daughter into the world today.”

“I can’t wait to bring her home with you tomorrow.”

There was a knock at the door and Dr Calhoun appeared.

“I was speaking with another physician about our next steps in terms of when I can discharge you, given how you’ve been doing,” she explained.

[moodymisty]

Alright I gotta represent for us in the Rogal Dorn Simp Nation, Misty! This idea fell directly on my head from my old history nerd childhood, we’ve got stories of queens holding down the fort and being badass while the king is away so why not let the lady of the House of Dorn and the Imperial Fists kick some ass??? Dorn’s off doing y’know crusade shit etc etc and gets a frantic vox hail from Inwit (or whatever fortress world she was on) that they’re under attack. Luckily he’s done with whatever his assignment was or has somebody he can trust and leave it to so he can flip Phalanx in reverse and hop back to make sure nothing goes wrong. Only to find his beloved commanding the standing force of guardsmen and marines, not just holding it down but WINNING. On the outside he’s his usual stoic self like “psh yes of course I wasn’t worried, I never worry, this is something I expect her to be able to handle. I am proud tho” but internally he’s like “oh no this is hot” XD. Indomitable warrior queen decked out in armor he probably commissioned for her (always gotta be prepared) making battle plans and laying the verbal smack down on any captains or commissars who are questioning the competency of somebody ROGAL GODDAMN DORN chose to be with. Yeah I think that’d do a whole lot for him 😂

Having soft moments of reflection on his humanity matched against his beloved’s is delicious of course but so is meeting him where HE’S at, seeing how loving him and learning about him would change somebody. And getting to commit some grand old grimdark 40k VIOLENCE is always fun lol

[ 𝕸𝖔𝖔𝖉𝖞𝕸𝖎𝖘𝖙𝖞'𝖘 𝕸𝖆𝖘𝖙𝖊𝖗𝖑𝖎𝖘𝖙 | 𝕬𝖔3 ]

Author's Note: We are on the front lines for Wall Husband I will go down with this ship. Boring this bland that fuck everyone else we're right I'm stacking bricks around them

Summary: Stuck in a violent snowstorm on an Imperial Fist controlled planet being sieged, you take command for the first time while waiting for Dorn.

Relationships: Rogal Dorn/Fem!Reader

Warnings: Dorn is your future husband and Alexis Polux is your battle husband it's like a work husband but much more violent, Mentions of battle and death, Typical 40kness, I think I blacked out while writing this I'm sorry

Word Count: 2566

You had known from the very beginning of your courtship that Dorn had wished for you to be a link in his chain of command.

What you hadn't expected, was for your first time in leadership to be completely alone, surrounded by no less than fifty Astartes waiting for orders, and five hundred or more Guardsmen half frozen due to the horrid weather; With a multitude of tech priests working on the various machinery and equipment.

This sun up makes it a week since the siege had began, the distant sounds of bolter fire constant. Sometimes the ground shakes from explosions, pulling dust off the cracks in the brick walls.

Walking down the east hall, you step into the large room that has been made into a sort of 'central command' to coordinate the current forces, stuffed tight with a massive holotable and various tech priests scattered around it. Some are working on fixing any malfunctioning machinery, such as the vox equipment that has had trouble maintaining a signal even on-planet through the storm.

You look around to see if anything drastic has changed in your absence. In the moment, you notice a familiar face; A commissar from the beginning of this week. He has the most command over the Guardsmen under you, having been their only superior before the invasion. Any captains or other commissars had been made to report to him, up until now. His closest in rank subordinate had been killed in an explosion on the first day, and in a morose thought, you wonder if they had been any more palatable than he is.

"Any progress hailing the Phalanx?"

He gives you a curt shake of his head, looking over the shoulder of the tech priest operating the vox equipment. Another harsh whip of wind batters against the walls, howling and shaking the glass windows. It rattles them almost just as bad as the distant explosions do.

"Nothing more than a few seconds at a time. But it should be enough of a message for them to understand the planet is under siege." The Commissar speaks short and stiff, face frozen in a neutral, stoic gaze underneath his uniform and few day old facial scruff. You cross your arms.

He's on his best behavior now, considering his disrespect shortly after you'd taken command had nearly gotten his head rent from his shoulders. He hadn't realized he was speaking to the Lady of the Imperial Fists, but the Astartes that had been in your company to deliver the news of your ascension in duty hadn't given him the leeway he might've thought he deserved. He acquiesced command of his guardsmen to you quite quickly, after that. There has been nary a squeal from him since, nor any of his fellow commissars or guard captains.

"Good. Then we will hopefully have aid soon. For now we need to push them back from the storage buildings before my men run out of bolter ammo."

Not that they can't work with just their chainswords, but long range options remain vital considering the hostile terrain you're all working with.

You hear the sound of heavy footsteps approaching.

Alexis Polux, a veritable giant of a man, is nearly unable to get through even a doorway meant for fellow Astartes; Though not of his size. His armor is packed with snow at the seams, pauldrons slick with snow melted into a sheet of ice. His thin, blonde hair is quickly becoming wet at the tips, from where snowflakes are melting in the slight heat of the room. Anywhere he walks, he leaves chunks of melting sleet right behind. It has to be almost packed a meter high at this point out there, judging where the worst of it ends on his leg armor.

"Welcome back, Captain Polux." You smile in spite of the situation. It's something that Dorn had said he found- in his own words- 'curious' about you.

He holds his helm in his hands, walking closer to you. He brushes past the Commissar with not even the slightest tilt of acknowledgement. Unsurprising. He'd been there when the man had questioned your acting in Dorn's proxy. Polux is a man of a surprisingly amount of humility and softspokenness, but he is rarely forgiving.

"The storm is getting worse."

You hear another bout of wind howl through the brick and stone, as it continues to dump more snow onto the ground. While the Astartes can traverse it without much issue, it's becoming one for the Guardsmen. They've slowed their advance significantly as the snow reaches their knees.

"Even if we do get aid, they're going to be hard pressed to get anything more than small gunship planet-side; Though it goes both ways. We're all stuck out here in this mess." You open your mouth to continue, but Polux cuts you off.

"They are not built for the cold like we are."

You look up to the massive marine who's been serving as your second in command. Perhaps it wasn't an officially given title, but he's taken it well, and you could think of no better man for it. Especially given that the other Astartes respect him- which makes your orders have less of a weight to them, given they still have a degree of unfamiliarity with you. Your hands rest on the rim of the holotable.

"Finished my sentence for me." He hums as an odd sort of apology, the humor of your response going right over his head. When you let out a soft chuff of a laugh a few guardsmen curiously look at you for a moment.

"It was a compliment, Polux." He stares, eyes flicking across your face as he loudly thinks.

He really is a Son of Dorn.

You resist the urge to smile again, and look down at the holotable. It's been quite the week, but what was once another language has now become nothing but second nature. Putting theory to practice has proved quicker and less frightening that you'd thought, a week ago.

Though you still hope Dorn returns to you soon, turning away from the holotable to receive an update from a guardsmen holding a dataslate.

If anyone had ever asked, Rogal Dorn has remained no different than the stalwart nature he's always had. Though his captains and commanders can hear tenseness in his voice. No matter how phenomally well the Primarch can mask it.

It's been there since they'd first gotten the first of multiple emergency vox hails, only a few seconds long with a barely stable connection. But the few words that had gotten through had made it obvious that the planet was being sieged.

One of their bases was being sieged, a spit in the face of the Imperial Fists.

Even worse, Dorn has no idea as to your welfare.

He'd thought you safe there, the safest you could be other than with him or on Inwit, and now you stand on a world being laid waste with no way to contact anyone off world. He wonders deep in a part of his mind if it was an error on his part.

They're less than a day out now, watching the warp tear by. Dorn stands at the ship's bridge- unmovable. He'll see the planet any moment now when they leave Warp travel, and then can he prepare for what all is ahead of him.

He has the utmost faith in his men and you. However that doesn't mean that a small, human part of him doesn't worry at the idea of you being stuck mid-siege in an unknown location.

He taught you well. He taught you well. A mantra in his head no one else can hear. It is up to yourself to survive without him.

The siege isn't visible from orbit when they arrive, given the massive storm blocking large swaths of the land in a white blanket. It will making landing difficult, but the storm is clearing- at least according to the tech priest currently in charge. Not long after orders are given to begin battering the enemy's battleships as they strike back, shields taking a sizable hit. Nothing the Eternal Crusader and it's crew cannot handle.

But it doesn't feel as if the ice storm is clearing with the way the gunships struggle to remain stable, even with the most competent of pilot. Though they still manage to land on solid footing in one piece, the wind whipping their armor like a flog. Sheets of snow blow across snow already heavily packed onto the ground, covering up the large footprints of Astartes that had been here moments before them. The stone of the steps is barely visible through it all.

Dorn strides forward, the snow sticking to his boots as he trudges through it. He can hear bolter fire in the distance, as well as what seems like the highpowered cannon of multiple Baneblades. A small team of five Astartes follow behind him, two on each side and one directly behind. They have their bolters raised, ever vigilant even well in the safely of their own area of control. Wind rips through his cropped hair and howls in his ears, and for a split second, he perhaps regrets not wearing his helm. Even for a man of Inwit, this cold stings; He can hear the ice and snow crunching in the seams of his armor.

Stepping inside the cathedral, the first thing he notes is the myriad of supplies stacked inside in the aisles, safe from the elements. Guardsmen are looking after them, divvying them out amongst themselves, or delivering them to the Astartes in need of them. Of which there are a few- Imperial Fist guards from before the siege began. Most seem in decent condition; Dorn notes a lack of injuries amongst the Guardsmen and Astartes alike, and how there seems to be an established system amongst them.

He keeps walking through the nave, passing Guardsmen and Astartes who all give him a drop of the head when he passes.

"Primarch Dorn!"

An Imperial Fist Lieutenant calls to him, helmet in his hand. He has blood on his lips from where his skin has split, the cold having whipped his skin dry. Going down the few steps of the ambulatory, he gives a curt nod.

"Lady Dorn and Captain Polux are in the east hall. Central command has been established there."

He affirms to the warrior and turns, walking through the transept and down the hall. The one who'd spoken to him seems to have other duties, and stays behind on the ambulatory.

He can hear chatter in the large, arched hall- it increases until he reaches the door it's bleeding from, and he opens it and ducks to come through. It's just too short for him, but the ceiling inside can thankfully handle someone of his height. It's a thought that is always in the back of his mind.

When Dorn enters the room, the first thing his eyes focus on is you; Leaning over a massive holotable with Captain Alexis Polux standing firmly at your side. He stands like an unmoving guardian, a hand on the pommel of his chainsword. He's the closest to you out of anyone in the room- either out of his own will, or the gargantuan Astartes has incidentally created a personal area of clearance around you both with his presence alone.

"Dorn!"

You say, an audible pep in your voice. The Primarch walks closer and examines the scene in front of him. You appear uninjured, apart from your skin being slightly pallid from the cold.

The Primarch notices how everyone operates around you with a level of assiduity and efficiency, having been giving clear cut duties. There is no arguing, no fighting, everyone both in this room and all around the cathedral operate smoothly. You have a perimeter established, and you’ve been careful to push the advance but not stretch yourself too thin.

You've done well. That much is clear. A part of him wonders if you'd be able to clean this all up on your own, had he decided to simply give you the reinforcements and leave.

Dorn watches as you momentarily turn away from him to speak to an approaching commissar, and he finds himself listening to your confident and assured tone of voice. A thought crosses his mind.

You look beautiful.

All of your inquiries, curious questions and shaking confidence in your ability to lead have all mixed together, and while you might have made different choices than him, he cannot deny your effectiveness.

Dorn decides to speak before he distracts himself within his own mind further. A hold of your hand or to take a kiss of yours are things reserved for private, not here. As much as he might wish to.

"You appear to have done well for yourselves."

You look up at him and give a wry smile, while he glances at the holotable in-between you both.

"It could be worse. I have a squad of Astartes stuck behind enemy lines, but we've pushed the enemy back from the supply warehouses."

This planet has large city buildings that the wind rips around through, unlike the shorter ones of Inwit. The Astartes are fine in their sealed suits and higher body temperature, but the Guardsmen are all struggling. You more than likely are as well, despite holding strong. He can see the chill on your skin, the cracked skin of your lips.

Dorn's reinforcements will provide valuable support to yours, and with their might together, this planet with be rid of the siege.

You turn to order that the men currently in the battlefield get notice that Primarch Dorn has arrived, and that reinforcements are coming. Besides the soon coming tactical advantage, it will provide a well needed boost to moral. With the intense weather, it has surely been lowering. Though your smile and optimistic look in your eyes prove to be a valuable motivator.

No matter how good the orders, often times the way they're said and the person giving them are what matter most.

The Primarch looks to Captain Polux, and gives him a curt nod. The Astartes politely returns a dip of his head in thanks to the silent compliment of his duty. Dorn then looks back to you.

"You and any men injured will return to the Eternal Crusader." You let out a laugh and shake your head. He can hear the rattle of the bolter on your hip.

"Well now that I've started this, I'm kind of keen on seeing it finished before I leave."

Dorn's eyebrows raise ever so slightly, amused by you. He taught you well, he repeats again. Your command over a such a less than optimal situation has proven as such.

The Lady of the Imperial Fists has proven herself not only to be smart, beautiful, and full of humility, but to be stalwart and confident as well.

"Very well."

He'll stay at your side, and judging by his solid stance, Polux will as well.

Dorn very rarely has doubts, but your confidence and ability to adapt have solidified his thoughts that he had made the right choice in you. His 'sons' taking well to your command makes it far easier.

They will have to when you officially become his wife, after all. You have already accepted the title of Lady Dorn, he has no reason to not seal your bond. There hasn't been much else in his life he has been more sure of.

Ignoring any of his more personal desires in the back of his mind, Primarch Rogal Dorn abides by your request, eyes focused more on your lips as you smile at him.

[reniberries]

BARRACUDA . toji fushiguro

when your search for a job falls short for what feels like the millionth time in a row, you’re just about ready to give up until an odd proposition makes itself known to you.

chapter warnings: underground fighter!toji fushiguro, swearing, hurtful thoughts, lewd comments from men, mentions of drinking alcohol, smoking and drugs, attempted theft

total wc: 3.0k

— CHAPTER ONE . desperate measures

At this point, you wholeheartedly believed that the world was playing some kind of sick and twisted game on you.

It laughed at you, dangling the one thing you truly desired right in front of your face, only to snatch it away at the very last second, like taking a child’s favourite toy from them just as they’ve picked it up.

You were the child, so full of excitement and hope at the idea of starting new, being able to pick yourself off the ground, and the world was the adult who’d come into the room and decided you were undeserving of the toy in front of you. It picked up all that you desired, and placed it on top of a shelf that you were too small to get to.

Try as you might, you simply could not reach it. Well, metaphorically anyway.

In this moment, that’s exactly how you felt, clambering across the couch to reach your phone that had lit up with the notification of an unknown caller. Like every time before, you allowed yourself to feel excited. As though this was the very moment things would start to fall into place, and all the bad memories of the past would fade away as you paved the way for your new life.

And yet, you were let down, again.

The way your face immediately falls alerts your roommate, Sherri, to the conclusion of the phone call, hearing a repeatedly distinctive phrase that she knew you’d come to despise over time.

“I regret to inform you, but…” you’d hung up before the man on the other side had enough time to finish his sentence. The exasperated sigh you released from between your lips held a heartbroken tone, and all you could do was shake your head when Sherri quietly asks if you’re okay.

It hadn’t always been like this. Three months ago you were more than content working a few hours every week as a waitress in a small but well-known restaurant called ‘Alexie’s’, where you’d actually met Sherri, and although the management wasn’t the best at times, and you were sure the chef had a stick shoved further up his ass then you could’ve imagined, it was still something.

The job had given you something to do when you weren’t attending your nursing classes, or writing essays, and it worked like a charm at taking your mind away from your personal life when things went wrong.

Sure, some customers were complete and utter dickheads, expecting five star service and for you to wait on them hand and foot, but the majority of people were nice and the pay was more than worth dealing with some crappy person coming in and demanding you seat them and their eighteen other friends immediately, despite being fully booked.

You were heartbroken when the owner had set up a staff meeting to inform you and everyone else that the restaurant was unable to stay open.

Things had never been this bad before, and honestly, there wasn’t much you weren’t willing to do if it guaranteed you a job. Not when the cost of living had skyrocketed and all but royally fucked you over.

Sherri had been an angel throughout this situation you’d found yourself in, though you were slightly jealous the day she came back from an interview with the local supermarket, telling you how they’d happily hired her on the spot. She had been your rock to stick on while your life turned completely upside down, even going as far as offering to cover next months rent.

But you still needed to feed yourself each week, still needed to pay for the bus fare on your way into college, and even worse, you still needed to pay back the money you owed to your parents.

If moving back into your parents house was an option, you might’ve resorted to it considering how desperate things had become. But that wasn’t an option, and it never would be.

You couldn’t allow that to happen.

Not only was it impossible, seeing as they were living in an entirely different country, but you’d intentionally created that distance in order to get as far away from them as possible. Moving halfway across the world in order to escape them and their overbearing ruling that they held over your head was the first thing you’d done after graduating high school, and you weren’t about to go back on the promise you’d made to them that day.

Telling your mother and father that they would never see you again should’ve been heartbreaking. You should’ve been crying or screaming at them, and maybe, in a perfect world, they would have told you to stay, or that they didn’t want you to leave.

But again, the world was seldom perfect, and after the past few months, you truly were finding that fact out for yourself.

It was Sherri’s sweet voice that snapped you out of your daydream, still clutching your phone to your ear as you kneeled on the couch. “Why don’t we go out tonight? It might make you feel better.”

You let out another sigh, ready to shoot her offer down even though the suggestion was extremely tempting after the dreaded phone call, “Sherri, I can barely afford the bus right now, I can’t—”

She grinned before interrupting you, a sly look that you couldn’t decide if you liked or not.

“You really think I’d suggest that if I didn’t have a plan?” She raised a questioning eyebrow up at your form, “Lukah’s working tonight, do you know what that means?”

With a shrug, you settled back into the couch and pulled a blanket over your knees, staring back at your roommate and waiting for her to continue.

She leaned towards you from the opposite end, “free drinks!” She exclaimed, and moved her hands around as if her point had been obvious from the start.

“Didn’t he just start a new job though? We’ll end up getting him fired if he’s caught giving out free drinks,” Sherri giggled as if you’d said the funniest thing, and then her expression began to shift into something slightly more serious.

She hesitated to reply, and when Sherri got quiet, it could only mean trouble. “Well, the place he started working at, it's not exactly in the most... uh," it was if she was struggling to find the right words to say without scaring you away. "...Desirable of places, so he doesn't think his boss will care much," she finished with.

An eyebrow raised as you stared at her, wordlessly asking the short girl to elaborate. "It's in the Jujutsu District."

Ah, you thought, that would explain why she'd been slightly more reluctant to tell you.

The Jujutsu District was pretty notorious throughout the city, and especially with the younger population seeing as a large majority of clubs and bars could be found spread out around the area. You'd been a couple times, mainly to the small pubs that laid just on the outskirts, as most locals were well aware that it was smarter to stay clear of the place. It was no secret that the kinds of deals that typically went on out there were far from legal, though even the police had deemed the place a 'no-go zone' and were rarely seen patrolling anywhere near it.

But even you couldn't say no to a few free drinks after being so down on luck, and so, within a few seconds of dubiously nodding your head in agreement with Sherri, she was yanking on your arms to pull you away from the couch and into her room.

And within an hour and a half, the two of you had made your way out of the apartment hand-in-hand.

The club was filled to the brim, drenching you in a light sheen of sweat that glistened across your skin. Music blared in through your ears from every direction and created a dull ache that stretched across your forehead. You couldn't put your finger on the name of the song that was currently playing, although it brought an odd sense of déjà vu along with it.

Truthfully, you’d be lying if you said you didn’t like going out with your friends. There was something so exciting about getting ready for the club and dancing the night away, smearing shimmery eyeshadow across your lids and lining them with a distinctive wing of eyeliner. The clothing you’d thrown on hugged every inch of your body, but it was hard to care about your slight discomfort when the edge of a glass was lifted to your mouth, lips lined and covered in a colour so signature to your look.

Lukah was a godsend, sneaking both you and Sherri drinks over the counter every time either of you walked up to the bar, and just like Sherri had said, it didn't seem like his manager couldn't give two shits.

Sherri grabbed your wrist after you placed the shot glass back down on the bar, void of whatever liquor Lukah had offered the two of you. Leading you over to the sea of bodies on the dance floor, you could barely hear your roommate when she said "c'mon, my favourite song just came on!"

It was borderline provocative the way you and Sherri danced together. Her back was pressed to the front of your body, arms lifted and wrapped around your neck, and the way your hips swung against each other to the beat of the music was enough to gain more than a little attention from the boys that littered around the dance floor.

Neither of you bothered to entertain those who tried to approach either of you. Either, they came on way too cocky for their own good, or were sporting some serious baby face, and that was enough for you to shake your head, waiting for them to do the walk of shame back to their friends.

One man had come up to Sherri and asked for her number, only to continue bothering her even after she'd told him no multiple times. After the third decline and narrowly avoiding his grabby hands heading for her hand, Sherri twisted her head around and planted a delicate kiss on the corner of your mouth, exclaiming loudly that she "couldn't wait to get home and get you alone," and that was enough for him to briskly walk away.

It was no surprise honestly, as not only did you look and feel beautiful, but Sherri looked like a supermodel in her little black dress and heels. Plus, you could admit that the male attention did help a little in lightening the mood you'd been in before the two of you left the house.

"Do you wanna get another drink?" Sherri shouted over the music.

You shook your head, "I'm gonna get some air, I'll meet you at the bar." She gave you quizzical look, as to question why. You lifted your hand out in front of you, a white lighter and pack of Marlboro Gold's held within it.

Making your way outside was much more difficult of a task than you had expected, shoving your way through the endless amounts of bodies that had filled the club, probably knocking a drink or vape out from someones grasp as you went on your way.

The cold November air caused a shiver to crawl its way over your barely clothed body after you exited the building, and it felt heavenly as it washed away the sweat that had started accumulating across your skin. A flicker of light shone against your eyes, along with the sound of flint sparking from the lighter held in your right hand and a deep inhale.

Several bodies littered outside of the club, some clearly had the same idea as you, cigarettes clutched between their two fingers as they chatted away to their friends, others were still waiting in line to be let in, ID's held out for the large bouncer to take a look at, and there was even a couple who'd clearly had too much to drink, snogging away in a corner as if they weren't in the company of others.

It was quite a surreal feeling, as you leant against the cold brick wall, bringing your hand up to your face to take another inhale of the stick held in them. Three hours ago, you'd almost been reduced to tears, feeling like the world truly had it out for you, yet now, you couldn't help but enjoy the dizzy feeling crawling up your spine, making you sway slightly.

Your problems hadn’t been solved with the sip of an alcoholic drink, far from it in fact. They would still be there to plague your thoughts tomorrow morning, even as you battled the headache you knew was coming, but at least in this very moment, as you let the tipsy feeling encompass your body, you could relax.

That feeling didn't last for long.

Just as you'd closed your eyes, smoke pillowing out from your parted lips, you felt a violent tug on the bag attached to your shoulder.

The stranger takes another pull on your right arm, causing you to drop the half-smoked cigarette onto the floor and the burgundy handbag falls out of your grasp.

“Hey!” Your voice is slightly slurred, an effect of the alcohol you’d consumed minutes prior, however the anger and small hint of fear is clearly heard in your words. It takes you a few seconds to register the tall man running away from you, clad in dark jeans and a hoodie pulled over his head, and your bag clutched in his hands.

Before you even realise what you’re doing, you start running after him. “Hey, jackass!” You repeat, “give me pack my purse!”

Your voice echoes through the street, yet it seems like everyone around you is too far gone to even notice or care.

Discomfort surrounds the heels of your feet, but it doesn’t stop you from giving up the chase as the man turns left into a dark alleyway. You’d chastise yourself later for the self preservation you seemed to lack in that very moment, completely ignorant to the dangerous connotations of following a strange man into a secluded area such as this, in the middle of the night. But that purse has everything you owned at the minute, your phone, wallet and any small amount of cash you currently had, and you couldn’t just let it slip from your arms.

He twists his head to look at you, as if shocked to see that you were actually following him.

It was at this moment that someone stepped out in front of him, and as soon as the thief got closer to the mysterious stranger, they threw their arms out and shoved him down to the ground.

Your bag went flying from his hands and onto the pavement.

Even from where you were standing, you could hear the thief’s harsh intakes of breath, winded from how hard he had hit the ground, and your saviour stepped over the man’s body.

He picked up your bag from the ground, slowly making his way over to you.

Finally, it dawned on you that while he had saved you from losing quite literally everything you owned, that didn’t make him any less dangerous than the man who’d stolen from you in the beginning, and as he stepped towards you, panic started to make its way up your spine.

“Don’t come any closer!” You screamed at him. His steps faltered, but he didn’t stop moving, “I have a knife!” You didn’t, and it was probably pretty obvious that you’d lied as his eyes raked over your body, searching for anything that remotely resembled a weapon.

You could hear him release a small laugh as he came even closer, holding out your purse for you to take. “I believe this is yours?”

Gingerly, your hands clasped around the strap, pulling it towards your chest and releasing a sigh of relief. “Thank you,” you said, and began to quickly check that everything was still left inside, untouched.

He watched as you did so, a dark, thin eyebrow raised in questioning.

It was here, as the moonlight lit up his face, that you got a good look at your saviour. He was tall, big enough to feel imposing as he stood several feet away from you, with long black hair that cascaded down his back in a way that made you slightly jealous. He looked down at you with some of the most alluring brown eyes you’d ever seen, almost hazel with the way the street lamps highlighted his face from behind you.

A kind smile lulled you into a false sense of security as he opened his mouth to speak. “What kind of idiot runs after a guy like that in the middle of the night?” His tone was teasing, coinciding with the smirk he wore.

“Well,” you snorted sarcastically, “everything I own is in this bag. If I’d let him take it, I wouldn’t have anything left.” Maybe you should’ve been slightly nicer to the man that had just saved your life’s savings, but at the moment you couldn’t take any chances, not when you were so obviously isolated from the main street that was littered with drunks, druggies and the like.

He laughed at your comment, but shrugged and held out his hands, as if to say ‘there you go’.

You let out an awkward cough, trying to fill the silence. “I’m, uh… gonna go now, my friend is waiting for me back at the club,” you held out a thumb to point behind you, as if he’d know exactly where you’d meant despite the several buildings behind you filled with dancing strangers.

He nodded without saying anything else, and you took that as permission to make your leave.

Just as you’d turned your back on him, started to make your way back towards the club, his voice rung out again and stopped you in your tracks.

“Maybe I could help you out.”

authors note: so, the first chapter of barracuda is officially finished! this is the largest piece of writing i’ve done in a very long time and while i’m probably being overly critical, i do think at some point i will go back and edit it once the series is finished! but, let me know how you feel about this and if you liked it! i am very excited to see where this story goes. reni xx

© 2023, reniberries. please do not copy any of my writing or repost to other websites.

[piffany666]

Ok just one more punk progeny won't hurt~

Chapter 7: family meeting

(Ftm trans Bright eyes (uses he/him pronouns. This Chapter isn't going to make any sense unless you've read all the other chapters but to save you the time I'd like to remind you that treasure and Bright eyes are the same person in this fic)

Family meeting.

That's what William called it.

Admittedly that's also what Vincent called it but after his encounter with Porter he was feeling a little....raw.

Especially after hearing that he would be bringing a newborn as his date.

Vincent explained to Lovely that that was the vampire equivalent of bringing a baby to a funeral.

But Lovely was quick to point out that they themselves where also still technically a newborn. Vincent was quick to add that they were the exeption.

Vincent and Lovely were the first ones there besides Bright and alexis, who had been In the house all night.

Which did make Vincent more than a little concerned for Bright's safety but he trusted the kid's resolve. They pulled up by sky side then took a moment to compose themselves.

Lovely handled the Porter situation very well in Vincent's opinion, but he was sure that others may disagree considering they decked him.

Hopefully Porter hasn't tatteled on them to William during their "meeting".

Vincent smiled at Lovely before they exited the car.

They got this.

Upon arriving they were both met with the sound of.....a piano?

"Wow that Sounds beautiful!" Exclaimed Lovely

Vincent was befuddled.

"Yeah....it dose..."

"You look surprised"

"I am. The only person here that knows how to play the piano is alexis but she's....let's just say that THIS isn't her music...(if you could even call it that)"

Lovely giggled

"Is she not very good?"

Vincent shuddered.

"No. No she is not."

His face gave the impression that alexis playing the piano wasn't the most....pleasant of memories.

But once they both arrived in the common room, they were met with a not so cheery looking alexis.

It was safe to assume that she was in fact NOT the current pianist.

"Hey alexis, who's?-"

"Bright eyes"

She interrupted sternly.

"You let him touch your piano!?"

She scoffed.

"No. He's playing on William's, I always play the burgundy one William got for me"

"Oh. Right"

Vincent and Lovely sat down. Awaiting Sam, Fred, William and Porter's arrival.

Hopefully not for very much longer, the uncomfortable tension was becoming too much to handle.

"Hey before everyone eles gets here, could you go get Bright?"

Vincent asked alexis, partly to give him and Lovely somw more time to anticipate the meeting and because Vincent wanted to know if Bright had made his decision yet.

Then again this meeting was most likely going to answer that question.

Alexis groaned

"Fine"

Alexis looked out from the doorway into the music room at Bright eyes as he played William's grand piano.

She had previously played it during the first few years of her turning until eventually William got one for herself.

A seemingly kind gesture but alexis had always suspected that his reasoning for this was so that she'd keep away from his things.

The sight caused a possessive rage to shoot through her.

She grabbed a random book from one of the shelves in the hallway next to the double doors

And threw it at Bright's head.

The corner of the book hit his skull and it caused him to jolt away from the piano

He winced in pain as a look of annoyance and fury made its way across his face.

"OW! WHAT!?"

He saw alexis scowling in the doorway.

"Come on kid, family meeting in the common room"

After this, she retreated back to the common room, nit waiting for Bright eyes to get up from his chair and close the piano.

Eventually he caught up with her.

Once Bright had entered the common room, Vincent immediately pirked up and started a conversation with him.

It wasn't long after that when Sam and Fred arrived.

Vincent and Lovely seemed happy to see Sam and were quick to start conversing about the anticipated meeting.

Which left Bright and Fred to awkwardly shuffle and avoid eyes contact with eachother.

/ Fred's pov: /

Should I say hi?

We haven't talked at all since our argument and only occasionally brushed shoulders.

But with Tank moving in with Sam....I kinda feel like mabye it's time to move out and back when we were.....alive Bright would always talk about how one day we'd move in together.

He finally mustered up the courage to look at Bright and was about to ask him about there living situation.

But as soon as they locked eyes, Bright had a scowl plastered on his face.

So Fred looked away before he got the chance to ask

/ end of Fred's pov /

Suddenly, William opened the double doors of the mansion and entered.

"I'm sorry, are we the last ones here?"

'We'? Thought Bright eyes.

"Where's Porter?"

Asked Vincent almost sternly.

"Hes still in the car but don't worry he'll be out soon"

Vincent scoffed

"I am not worried about him"

William sighed as he removed his cloak. Vincent, Sam and Lovely were sitting on the same couch with Sam sitting on the edge of it and Vincent and Lovely next to eachother.

Bright and Fred were sitting on the couch opposite to them with Bright being the closest to William as he remained standing.

Alexis had her own chair.

Then Porter entered the room.

Fred was the only one in that room that hadn't yet seen Porter so he made note of the man's appearance.

He wasn't particularly tall, mabye only a little taller than Bright eyes, but he was wearing stilettos so it was hard to tell.

There were various scars across his face. Three long claw marks layed upon his left eye and one smaller one on his jawline that reached the cusp of his mouth.

He also wore pitch black shades that were the shape of bat wings.

(Refrance ^)

Vincent scoffed

"Sunglasses at night huh? Classy"

He said sarcastically to no one in particular.

Though Porter answer him.

"Oh why thank you~"

As Porter's eyes scanned the room, his gase eventually landed on Bright eyes.

And as he did he slowly removed his shades in shock.

Bright gave him the same look as they realised the situation they had found themselves in.

And simultaneously thought of the thing that usually comes to mind when you run into somone you had a one night stand with just the other night:

"SHHIIITTT"

_____________________________

(I accidentally posted an unfinished version of this cos tumbler was mad at me for the chapter being to long so I cut it in half. This is the first half. For those who saw the unfinished version...keep what happens to yourself for now)

Taggs:

@darlin-collins @anexistingexistence @you-think-i-care-mate