#I've been yearning so much i think I'm suffocating

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[jpmarvel90]

Dont Belong Part 3

Masterlist Natasha Masterlist

Part 1 Part 2

Word Count: 7175

Relationship: Mother WandaNat x Daugher Reader

Summary: Y/n's infection is hitting her hard and she's still struggling with her feelings on her parents. Thankfully, Yelena is there to help cheer her up and she brings along a surprise that might just make everything feel better!

Nat: Mama Wanda: Mom

Y/n POV:

These last two days in the hospital have blurred together, a monotonous cycle of dull light and beeping machines. The weight of my infection drags on me, leaving me shivering one moment and sweating the next. I've spent far too much time staring at the ceiling, feeling trapped in this sterile room, yearning for the freedom of my life before the mission went sideways. The boredom is suffocating, and I feel like I'm losing pieces of myself with every passing hour.

I feel a constant gaze from my parents who rarely leave my side. It's strange to go from having them ignore you to being around all the time. Part of me feels like things were like they used to be when I was a full part of their family. The other part of me is screaming saying they don't mean it and will soon be gone again.

But today feels different, a whisper of hope fluttering in the air. I've been waiting for this moment, and when a familiar knock sounds at the door, my heart races with anticipation. "Can I come in?" Yelena's voice calls softly, and I can't suppress the grin that spreads across my face at the sound of her.

"Of course!" I call back, the eagerness spilling over in my tone. I sit up a little straighter, my heart pounding as I manage to prop myself up, using the button on the side of the bed to elevate myself.

The door swings open, and Yelena steps in, her expression a mix of relief and worry. Her golden hair catches the light, and I can see the telltale signs of sleepless nights etched under her eyes. "Y/n!" she breathes, rushing to my side, her voice trembling slightly as she takes my hand.

"Yelena! I'm so glad to see you." The words come out a little breathless, and I can't help the surge of emotion that washes over me. Just seeing her makes the room feel a little less confining, a little brighter.

"I can't believe you're awake," she says, her grip tightening around my fingers. "I was so scared. We all were. You had everyone worried sick." Her eyes shimmer with unshed tears, and for a moment, it feels like the weight of my situation lifts just a bit. I don't think I've ever seen Yelena emotional like this before and it helps me realise how bad this whole situation is. She would never allow anyone to see her this vulnerable except for Mama.

"Hey, I'm okay. Well, sort of." I gesture weakly to the IV drip, the hospital bed, and the machines that surround me. "Just a little out of commission at the moment."

Yelena's smile is tentative but bright, yet it's overshadowed by the concern etched on her face. "I just hate seeing you hurt like this. You're my niece and I thought I would always be here to protect you." She shares honestly.

I give her hand a squeeze and share a warm smile when she finally looks up to me. "I can't be protected forever. Besides, I need you now. This recovery is going to be shit and I need you to help me when it gets too much." I reassure her and she nods. "I'm not going anywhere. I'm here to help you through it all. Stark has even set me up on the same floor as you. So, I'll be there whenever you need me." She explains, making my heart warm with the thought of seeing her for a while to come.

"What about the widows?" I ask, knowing how much that means to her. "I've already been able to help so many. Now I need to help you. The others can wait. Besides, Kate can do the research on where we need to go next." She replies. "Who's Kate?" I ask, surprised to hear that she is working with someone else.

"Just a stray that Clint found. She's annoying, but oddly fun to be around. I think you'd like her. I'm sure she'll be around at some point to say hi." She explains with a shrug.

As the initial shock of seeing me seems to fade, I can see the corners of Yelena's mouth twitching upward, her eyes sparkling with mischief. It's as if she's flipping a switch, her demeanour transforming from worried auntie to the playful, teasing friend I know and love.

"You know," she starts, leaning back slightly and crossing her arms, "for someone who just woke up from a dramatic hospital nap, you look surprisingly like a zombie. I mean, I thought they had strict rules against bringing the undead into the hospital."

I let out a soft laugh, despite the ache in my chest. "Yeah, well, the food here isn't exactly helping my cause. I'm pretty sure I could survive off of those tasteless mushy meals for a week and still look better than this."

Yelena raises an eyebrow, clearly entertained. "Mushy meals? I'd expect you to be on some gourmet diet, considering all the special treatments they give you. I'm starting to think you should at least get some ice cream as a post-surgery reward." She chuckles. "Now that's the kind of thinking I can get behind. Have a word with Tony yeah?" I reply, feeling my spirits lift. "Ice cream sounds amazing. But what are the odds of that happening here?"

"Zero. But I'm prepared for this. I'll break you out of this place and take you for ice cream. You just need to give me the signal, and I'll burst in through the window like a stealthy ninja." She mimics a dramatic leap and landing in mama's pose. "See, I'll even do my best poser impersonation!" She playfully teases and she now starts to pretend to scale the invisible walls of my hospital room, her expression shifting to one of exaggerated seriousness. "You can count on me, Y/n. Ice cream shall be yours!"

I chuckle, the image of Yelena performing an acrobatic escape making the heaviness of the past days lift a little more. "What flavour are we talking here? I hope it's not vanilla. I have standards, you know."

"Vanilla? Please! I was thinking more along the lines of double chocolate fudge with extra sprinkles. And maybe a side of cherry sauce because why not go big, right?" She shares her thoughts whilst taking the seat next to me again. Her hand resting over mine. "Now you're speaking my language," I respond, shaking my head in mock seriousness. "If I'm risking a hospital breakout, it better be worth it." I laugh.

Yelena sits back in her seat, her chest still rising and falling as she laughs at her own hilariousness. She then looks back up at me. "But seriously, let's plan this for when you're feeling better. I'm not above a hospital escape." Her grin is contagious, and I can feel the tension in my shoulders easing. "Deal. Just don't forget the sprinkles."

As our laughter fills the room, I realize how much I've missed this lightness, this camaraderie. It's comforting to think about having Yelena by my side as I navigate the uncertainty of recovery and family dynamics.

But beneath the playful banter, there's an unspoken understanding between us, a bond that allows me to express my fears without words. With Yelena around, I feel like I can face whatever comes next, armed with humour and the knowledge that I'm not alone in this fight.

"Just promise me one thing," I say, my voice turning more serious again. "Anything," she replies, her gaze earnest. "Don't let me give up on the ice cream party, okay? No matter what happens."

"Never! I'll be your ice cream guardian," she declares, puffing out her chest with mock pride. "We will have that party, and it will be legendary. I will personally ensure that you have the sprinkles of life!"

With that promise hanging in the air, I know I can count on her not just for ice cream but for so much more as I navigate this complicated recovery. Even amidst the challenges, I feel a renewed sense of strength.

Though the playful atmosphere soon disappears as Yelena looks at me with a hurt look. "You know," Yelena begins cautiously, glancing around the room as if making sure no one else can hear, "I've been really worried about you. Seeing you like this. It's been hard. I didn't expect to walk in and see my Y/n looking so weak."

"Yeah, well, welcome to the aftermath of a bullet wound," I respond, a hint of sarcasm lacing my tone, but her expression remains sombre. "I mean it, Y/n," she says, her voice low. "I can handle all sorts of dangerous missions, but this... this was different. You're my niece. I've seen too many people get hurt, and it scares me to think about what could have happened if things went even more wrong."

"I know. I didn't want to worry you, but... it's not like I planned to get shot," I reply, my voice softening. "I was trying to do my best, and it went sideways."

"It's not your fault," Yelena reassures me, squeezing my hand gently. "But promise me you'll be careful. Don't rush back into missions. I can't go through this again. I thought I lost you."

"I'm not going anywhere yet. You've got me for a while longer," I say with a playful lilt, trying to lighten the atmosphere. Her smile falters, but she doesn't let go of my hand. "You have to promise me you won't get hurt again. I mean it. You don't have to be the hero all the time, you know." The gravity of her words sinks in, and I can feel a lump forming in my throat. "I thought I was doing well. I thought it was my chance to prove myself," I admit, my voice quieter now. "Prove yourself? You don't need to do that. You're already a part of this family," she insists, her voice firm but gentle.

But I can't shake the feeling of inadequacy, the bitter sting of doubt that lingers in the corners of my mind. "I don't feel like it," I confess, looking down at our hands intertwined. "Not after everything that's happened. My parents... I don't know. It's complicated." I begin tentatively, not sure how to express the turmoil inside me.

"They've hurt me for so long, and I'm still trying to wrap my head around why they suddenly seem to care. It feels like. I don't know, like they're trying to make up for lost time. They've been... around. Too around, if you know what I mean. They've been acting all concerned, but it feels more like an obligation."

I've felt torn about this since I've woke up. They're around all the time and trying to do everything that can to help me. But all I can think about is how much they have hurt me and if they would ever be able to make up for their past actions.

Yelena nods, her expression serious. "It's okay to be conflicted. They've done wrong by you, and you have every right to be angry. But if they're genuinely trying to change, maybe there's a chance for you to heal too." She suggests, similar to how Steve has these last two days.

"I don't want to forgive them just because they're here now. It feels disingenuous," I admit, frustration seeping into my voice. "I've been raised to believe that actions speak louder than words, and I need to see real change." I state irritated. "Then hold them to that standard," she urges, her voice steady. "Don't let them slide by just because they're your parents. You deserve more than that." She iterates.

"I guess I'm just afraid of being disappointed again," I whisper, feeling a shiver of vulnerability wash over me. It hurt so much when I slowly seemed to disappear from their lives. I don't think I could experience that again. "What if they go back to ignoring me once I'm healed? What's the point of this?" I share, tears stinging my eyes.

Yelena leans closer, her brow furrowing as she studies my face. "That's not fair to you. They hurt you, and it's okay to be angry about that. But you deserve to feel loved and cared for. You're so much stronger than you give yourself credit for." "Stronger?" I scoff lightly, but inside I feel a flicker of hope. "I barely survived my first mission and ended up in a hospital bed. That doesn't feel strong."

"Strength isn't just about fighting, Y/n. It's about surviving, too. You survived, and you're still here. You're still fighting." Her voice softens, and I can see her eyes glistening with tears. I nod slowly, her words resonating with me. "You're right. I just don't want to get hurt like that again. I thought joining SHIELD would mean I'd finally be seen, but now... it feels like a mess."

Yelena shakes her head, frustration evident in her expression. "No. You're not a mess. You're human. They need to step up and show you that you matter, but that doesn't mean you have to accept their love without question. You get to set the boundaries. You get to decide what you want from them moving forward. But I do believe that you have to give them a chance to show you that they've changed." She shares, taking me by surprise.

"It was years Yelena. How can I move to just forgive them for everything that's happened? Just because they're here for my recovery, doesn't mean it makes up for everything that they've done." I raise my voice getting frustrated that no one seems to understand the depth of how much this has affected me.

She thinks for a moment before speaking up. "I know I can't understand the pain they caused you. When I heard about what they did to you, I was ready to kick both of their asses. But I've seen this determination in them. Especially Nat. I just don't want you to let the anger eat you alive. You deserve more than that. You deserve to heal, not just physically, but emotionally, too." Her words resonate deep within me. I can feel the weight of my resentment pressing against my chest, threatening to suffocate me. "It's just hard, Yelena. I don't know if I can trust them again. What if they just go back to how things were?"

"That's the risk, but it's also a chance for something better. Maybe this could be the start of a new chapter for you all," she replies, her voice filled with hope. "I mean, how many people get a second chance to rewrite their story? You can make it count." She tries to reason with me. "Or I could just end up disappointed again," I say, my voice barely above a whisper.

"Hey, no one said life was easy," she counters, leaning forward, her tone shifting to a playful challenge. "You've faced worse. You survived a bullet wound, for Christ's sake! How about you take that strength and channel it into something more positive? Like confronting your parents." She suggests. "Confront them?" I echo, feeling a knot of anxiety tighten in my stomach.

"Yeah! You're a badass. You fought off those Hydra agents; you can fight for your own happiness." she encourages. "Don't let anyone else dictate your worth. Not your parents, not Hydra. No one."

"I'll think about it," I concede, knowing that deep down, she's right. Maybe facing my parents isn't just about them; it's about taking control of my own narrative, my own healing. "Good," Yelena replies, her smile brightening the room once more. "And remember, no matter what you decide, I'll be right here, cheering you on. We're in this together, ice cream and all."

As I gaze into her determined eyes, I feel the flicker of hope igniting within me. Yelena is right. I can't let the past dictate my future. Perhaps I can find a way to reclaim my voice, my choices. And with her by my side, I feel like I can face whatever comes next.

__________

The soft hum of the machines is a constant companion, a backdrop to the quiet conversation happening in the room. Mama and mom sit nearby, each offering their own version of silent support. Mama, with her usual calm demeanour, sits crossed legged in the chair near the foot of my bed. Her posture is relaxed, but her sharp eyes betray her constant vigilance. She notices everything, always has, and I can feel her observing me like she's looking for something beneath the surface. Mom on the other hand, has stationed herself at my side, like aways. She's less fussy, thankfully, but still has to be close, like I'm going to disappear if she's not.

Sometimes, I find the silence unbearable compared to their constant and sometimes suffocating fussing over me. I feel on edge, like they're waiting for me to talk to them. I think back to what Yelena said about confronting them and doing it on my terms. But I want to do it in the right frame of mind, and at the moment, this infection is still kicking my ass.

Mama breaks the silence as her well trained eyes watch me for a while. "How are you feeling Y/n?" She asks, her eyes narrowing slightly as she studies me, as though she's trying to catch me out if I say the wrong thing. "A bit better." I respond with a slight nod, my words carefully measured. I don't want to give too much away. Not about how I'm feeling and especially not about the swirl of doubt that's been growing inside of me since the incident.

"Are you sure? You're sweating." She points out, sitting up. Mom goes to reach for my forehead, but quickly retreats her hand. She's been trying really hard not to be too much and I'm grateful for that. I should have known that she could see straight through me and notice the discomfort I'm in. "Just a little." I admit. "Is there anything we can do? Would you like some water? Or we could change the quilt for a blanket if that would help?" Mom suggests.

I think for a moment before giving in, knowing that I am burning up a little too quickly. "The blanket would be better if that's ok." I respond, earning a warm smile from mom as she stands and moves to grab the blanket as mama takes the quilt and folds it up. "Better?" Mom asks as the thin blanket now rests over my legs. "Yes. Thank you." I quietly respond.

"You're being strong, but you don't have to be." Mom says, her voice soft but persuasive. Her green eyes watching me too closely. "We're here for you." She states. Something I've heard more these last few days than I have in my whole like.

I offer a tight smile. "I appreciate that." I reply, but there's something hollow in my words, something they both notice. I see it in the flicker of mama's eyes, in the slight frown mom tries to hide. They want me to let them in, to trust them. But I can't. No right now.

The knock on the door interrupts the thick atmosphere. As we all look to the door, a smile grows on my face as Yelena pushes open the door, bursting in to the room with her usual energy. Her blonde hair bounces around her shoulders as she strides in, a smirk on her lips. She's a welcome distraction from the unspoken suspicions swirling in my mind.

Behind her, there's someone new. A brunette with wide eyes and a slightly awkward smile follows in her wake, holding a small bouquet of flowers in her hands. It's clear she doesn't quite know what to do with them as she shifts nervously, standing next to Yelena like she's trying to figure out how to fit in. "This is Kate." Yelena says with a grin, motioning to the brunette with a flourish. "Oh, right. The annoying stray Clint picked up." I reply with a grin, my eyes flicking between Yelena and the new girl. I feel a small flutter of nerves in my chest, but I push it aside, trying to appear casual.

Kate gasps dramatically, placing her hand over her chest as if wounded. "Annoying stray? Really? Is that how Yelena described me?" She shoots Yelena a mocking glare, then turns to me with a playful twinkle in her eyes. "Don't listen to her. I'm delightful, I promise." She smirks.

There is something instantly disarming about her. Her smile is infectious, and I find myself grinning back before I can stop myself. "I'll be the judge of that." I say, raising an eyebrow in challenge. Kate's laugh is light. "Well, I guess I better make a good impression then huh. I'm Kate. Nice to finally meet you."

As if she suddenly becomes aware of the other two people in the room, Kate suddenly becomes a lot more nervous as she steps forward, holding out the flowers a little awkwardly. "I, uh, thought some flowers might brighten up the place." She says her voice light but tinged with nervousness. "If you don't like them, I can... I don't know, take them back or something."

I can't help but smile at the sudden awkwardness, feeling some of the tension ease from my shoulders. There's something captivating about her, a clumsy sincerity that feels genuine. Like she's not trying to be anything other than who she is. If's refreshing, in contrast to the more guarded and calculated vibes in the room.

"No, no. They're nice. I love them." I say, accepting the flowers with a smile. "Thank you." I say gratefully. Mom steps in to help, taking the flowers from Kate and placing them on the beside table. She flashes Kate a smile, but I can't help but notice the way her eyes flick between me and Kate, like she's sizing up the interaction. Her protective nature is sweet, but right now it feels like an intrusion, like she's watching too closely.

Yelena of course, can't let the moment go without making it awkward. "Oh great. The two of you are already making goo-goo eyes at each other." She says with a snort, dropping herself into a chair next to mama with a dramatic sigh. "I should have seen this coming." She says to her sister. "Goo-goo eyes?" I sputter, my cheeks burning. "Yelena, we literally just met." Kate for her part, looks just as flustered, running a hand through her hair as she laughs awkwardly. "Yeah wow, not even five minutes in and I'm already being roasted. Thanks Yelena." Yelena has a mischievous grin as she gives Kate a thumbs up. "Hey, I call it like I see it." She shrugs.

I glance at Kate again, and despite the teasing, there's something about her that puts me at ease. Something feels unguarded in a way that I haven't felt around my parents lately. She seems real, no hidden motives, no unreadable layers. Just Kate, awkward and charming in her own way.

Mama raises an eyebrow at Yelena's comment but stays quiet, observing as always. Mom though let's out a soft chuckle, her eyes softening for a moment as she looks between Kate and me. "I think it's sweet." She says, but there's an undercurrent to her words. A subtle probing as if she's gauging how close I'm willing to let this new person get.

I shift uncomfortably in my bed, trying to shake off the unease. "Kate seems nice." I say, trying to keep things light. "But you don't need to start planning a wedding already." I joke, earning a loud laugh from Kate.

Yelena leans back in her chair, a satisfied smirk on her face. "Well, you're already doing better than most people who meet Y/n. She doesn't usually warm up to strangers this fast."

"Yelena." I mutter, shooting her a look, but the playful banter is enough to make me feel a bit more like myself again. Even if the tension with my parents still lingers beneath the surface.

Mama exchanges a glance with mom, and I can feel the weight of their unspoken thoughts. They're both protective, maybe even a little suspicious of the new dynamic. I know they're trying to look out for me, but their watchful eyes feel too heavy right now and to be honest, they don't have the right to have any thoughts on this right now. They've barely been my parents for the last couple of years. They don't suddenly have a say in who I'm friends with.

"Well, at least you brought someone who isn't here to lecture me about being shot." I tease, giving Yelena a pointed look. Kate grins clearly relieved the conversation has shifted. "I'm just here for the heist planning." She smiles, her tone light. "Whatever Yelena has you roped into, I'm in." I join in the joke. Yelena perks up at that. "Oh, you have no idea what you've signed up for Bishop. This one here," she jerks her thumb at me, "has a history with getting into trouble."

Kate moves to take the seat next to me as both my parents decide to give us some space and grab some lunch. I'm grateful for them being able to read the room, but I notice the observant and narrow gaze of mama as she passes by Kate. I'm pretty sure I see Kate gulp a little which makes me laugh lightly.

"So," Kate asks, crossing her arms. "what's the plan for today? Ice cream, hospital jailbreak or maybe both?" She smiles, making the butterflies in my stomach flutter. "Oh, Yelena's already promised me ice cream, but she keeps postponing the jailbreak." I tease, glancing over at Yelena who's pretending not to listen.

Kate lets out a dramatic sigh, shaking her head. "Typical. She makes all these grand promises, and then when it comes time to actually execute..." Kate starts teasingly before Yelena speaks up. "I'm literally right here." She complains, throwing her hands up in mock exasperation. "And for the record. I would have busted you out, but your mother threatened to remove all the mac and cheese from the building if I did." She admits with a child like huff.

"Still scared of mama huh?" I smirk, earning a harsh stare from my aunt. "No!" She defends loudly. "Well, maybe when it comes down to you." She admits quietly, making Kate and I laugh. "Well, well. I've finally discovered the one thing Yelena Belova is scared of." Kate torments Yelena. "Yeah, well don't forget that you're the one scared of me." Yelena points out giving her fiercest glare. Something that makes Kate shrink back into her seat. "Yep. You're right. Sorry." She apologises goofily, making me smile even wider.

There's a beat of silence, but it's not awkward. It's easy, comfortable, and I'm surprised at how quickly I've warmed up to Kate. She's sharp, funny and there's a confidence about her that makes me feel more at ease. I can tell she's someone who doesn't take life too seriously, but there's a genuine warmth underneath the sarcasm.

Yelena is watching us again, her arms crossed, and her eyebrow arched like she's trying to figure out how this is going to play out. "You know, I might actually enjoy watching this." She says, her voice laced with amusement. "You two are way too cute. It's like watching a rom-com in real time." She smirks

"Okay, enough of that." I say quickly, feeling my face begin to flush, this time not due to my infection! I glance to Kate who is grinning like she's in on some joke that I'm not, and I can't help but laugh. "Yelena, don't you have some Widow business to attend to?" I question hopefully. "Nope." She says cheerfully, popping the 'p' for emphasis. "I'm on babysitting duty today." She smiles proudly whilst I just roll my eyes. Maybe I do want my parents back right now!

Kate leans closer to me, lowering her voice conspiratorially. "Does she always talk like that, or is it just for us?" She questions. "Always." I whisper back, earning a glare from Yelena. "Alright, alright." Yelena says, pretending to be offended, but her eyes twinkle with amusement. "I can see when I'm not wanted. I'll give you two some space. Try not to flirt too much while I'm gone." She teases.

"And you," she stops in front of Kate, a stern look on her face. "If she so much as flinches you call the nurse. I will have your head if anything happens to her." She warns her lowly. Kate just nods, gulping at the threat. "P-promise." She stutters. "Good. Text me if you need anything. Now have fun being all awkward and flirty." She smirks as she saunters out of the room.

Suddenly, it's just the two of us, the room quieter but still filled with that easy, playful energy. I glance over at Kate, feeling a bit of awkwardness settle in. But it's the good kind that makes my heart race a little.

"So, what now?" I ask, trying to sound casual? Kate shrugs, a teasing smile tugging at the corners of her lips. "I don't know. I mean, we could plot that jailbreak. Or maybe..." She pauses, her eyes meeting mine. "We could just hang out and get to know each other a little better." She suggests.

There's a warmth in her gaze, something that makes my heart flutter, and for the first time in a while, I feel a sense of excitement. Not just for the ice cream or the jokes, but the possibility of something new. Something good. And maybe, just maybe, I'm ready for it.

Nat's POV:

My sharp eyes have always picked up on the subtle shift in a person's demeanour, the tiniest details that others overlook. Right now, I'm studying Kate Bishop. She's awkward sure. A little too wide-eyed and jittery, holding onto those flowers like she's afraid they might combust. There's a clumsy sincerity to her that I can't decide if I trust yet. Y/n though... Y/n is smiling. Laughing even, and I haven't seen that kind of lightness in her face in far too long. Still, I remain cautious.

I watch as Y/n teases Kate, the easy flow of their banter rolling off Y/n's tongue without the weight that usually accompanies her words. It's almost as if she's forgotten, if only for a few minutes, about the turmoil she's been going through. And while I want that for her, there's a part of me that can't let go of my protective instincts. That part that wants to dig deeper into who Kate Bishop really is, figure out if she's worthy of my daughter's trust.

Because Y/n doesn't let people in easily. Wanda and I have made that even harder for her now. To be able to trust is a difficult thing. I don't want to see her hurt more than she currently is. Not after everything that I've caused.

Wanda's voice pulls me out of my thoughts as she steps up beside me, her arms crossed but her expression soft, watching the interaction with a gentler gaze than I have. "She looks happy." Wanda murmurs. Her voice has that quiet thoughtful tone that always means she's been observing the situation for longer than I realised.

I nod, though I don't take my eyes off of Y/n. "She does." I admit reluctantly. Wanda notices this and quickly makes up an excuse of going to get some lunch and we quickly exit the room. Probably much to Y/n's delight!

"You don't like it?" Wanda asks, her lips twitching into a small smile. She can read me too easily, knows exactly what I'm feeling even when I try to keep it to myself. We hover in the corridor outside of Y/n's room as I sigh. "I didn't say that." I glance towards my wife, raising an eyebrow.

"No, but I know you." She chuckles softly, and it's a warm, comforting sound that cuts through the tension I've been holding in my chest. "Nat, you don't trust her yet." It's not a question, and I don't answer right away. Instead, I look back through the window into Y/n's room. My eyes falling to the pair of them. Y/n has leaned a little closer to Kate, her laughter soft, her smile genuine. Kate's making some grand gesture with her hands, her enthusiasm endearing in its awkwardness. Okay, I think. Maybe she's not so bad.

But still. "I just don't know her." I say finally, my voice low. Wanda hums in understanding, her gaze never leaving Y/n. "But look at her, Nat. She's the happiest we've seen her in a long while." She points out. I know she's right. Y/n hasn't had this kind of lightness in her eyes since the incident. Even in the days leading up to it, she was closed off, burdened by the trauma we had caused her. I couldn't do anything to help her, I couldn't fix what I had broken. And now here comes this Kate Bishop, breezing in like a ray of sunshine, making Y/n smile like it's the easiest thing in the world.

I sigh, crossing my arms tighter over my chest. "Maybe." I admit after a pause, my voice quieter now, more reflective. "Maybe Kate is what Y/n needs right now." Wanda turns her head to look at me fully, a surprised look on her face, but she soon gives me a soft knowing smile. "That's not easy for you to say."

"No, it's not." I say honestly. "But I can't ignore how she's acting. It's good to see her like this." I glance to Yelena who's still grinning like a proud instigator of all this chaos. Y/n has her laughing too, which is aways a good sign. "And Kate, she's not what I expected." I share.

There's an awkward clumsiness about the girl sure. But underneath that, there's a kindness in her eyes, something genuine that makes me reconsider my initial assessment. She's not just some reckless kid, despite the reputation. She cares and that means something.

Wanda places a gentle hand on my arm, squeezing lightly. "It's ok to let your guard down a little." I chuckle under my breath at her words. "I don't think I'm wired that way, Wanda." I reply. "I know." She laughs softly. "But maybe you can try. Kate isn't here to hurt Y/n. She's just, being a friend. Maybe that's exactly what Y/n needs right now." I nod, though my instincts still bristle at the idea of lowering my walls completely. "You're right. But I'm not going to stop being protective. Not after we failed her so badly." My gaze hardens just a fraction. "I can't."

Wanda's expression softens further, understanding in her eyes. "No one's asking you to stop protecting her Nat. Just, give this a chance. What ever it might be." She pleads. I look at Y/n again. She's relaxed in a way I haven't seen her in months. The tightness in her shoulders is gone, replaced by something lighter, freer. And I realise that I'm not the only one trying to protect her. Maybe, in her own way, Kate is too.

"I'll give it a chance." I mutter quietly. "But I'll be watching." Wanda smiles knowingly. "I wouldn't expect anything less." She says as both our gazes fall to our daughter. Just then, Kate says something that makes Y/n burst out laughing, the sound so full of life that it catches me off guard. My heart clenches that it's taken this long. That Wanda and I created an environment where she felt like she no longer belonged in this family.

I know it's going to take time for her to even consider forgiving us. But I know that it's important that she has other people around her that she can talk to and have fun with. If it's just Wanda and me she'll become completely closed off. Maybe being around Kate is exactly what she needs. It doesn't mean I'll let my guard down completely. Not yet. I will always protect her. That's what mother's do. Even if I haven't proven my right to that title in a long time.

_________

As Wanda and I step back into our home, the familiar chaos of our boys welcomes us like a warm embrace. The scent of something sweet wafts through the air, mixing with the sharp, clean smell of wood polish from our recent cleaning efforts. I can hear the muffled sounds of laughter and playful shouting emanating from the living room, and it brings a smile to my face despite the heaviness still clinging to my heart.

Tommy and Billy have been asking about their sister non-stop over the last few days, and every time, I see the worry deepen in their little faces. They've felt the weight of Y/n's absences as much as we have, maybe more.

"Hey, you two!" I call out, my voice breaking through the din. Almost immediately, Tommy and Billy come barrelling into the hallway, their faces lighting up like it's Christmas morning. They launch themselves at us, wrapping their arms around my waist and Wanda's legs in a tangle of limbs and giggles. It's a comforting noise, one that momentarily pulls me away from the weight of the world outside these walls.

"Mom! Mom! How's Y/n? Is she okay?" Tommy's voice rises with excitement, his wide eyes sparkling with a mixture of hope and anxiety. I exchange a glance with Wanda, who stands beside me, her own expression tinged with a protective softness. It's a moment like this that reminds me just how much the boys adore their sister.

"She's still unwell, sweetheart," I say gently, kneeling down to meet Tommy's gaze at eye level. "But she's doing better than she was. She'll be home soon." I try to sound optimistic, but the knot in my stomach betrays me. I know how much they want to see Y/n, and how hard it's been for them to understand why she isn't here with us.

"Soon? Like tomorrow?" Billy asks, bouncing on his toes, his dark hair flopping into his eyes. There's a slight hopefulness in his voice, and it makes my heart ache, knowing they're so eager for good news. Wanda steps in beside me, placing a hand on Tommy's shoulder, her touch gentle and reassuring. "She's going to need a few more days in the hospital, honey. She's got to rest and get better first." I watch the way Wanda's eyes soften when she speaks to the boys, how she has an innate ability to make even the hardest truths sound a little lighter.

"But her birthday is coming up!" Tommy exclaims suddenly, his expression shifting from concern to realization. "We have to make it special for her! Can we plan a perfect birthday for her in her hospital room?" His enthusiasm is infectious, and a flicker of warmth spreads in my chest at his determination. Billy nods vigorously, his face lighting up with ideas. "Yeah! We can decorate it and bring her cake! She'll love that!" The energy in the room shifts, and I can see both boys imagining the decorations they might hang, the cake they might bake, and the joy they hope to bring their sister.

"That's a great idea," I agree, feeling a swell of pride as I watch them brainstorm. "But we need to wait until she's feeling a bit better, okay? We don't want to overwhelm her." Tommy frowns slightly, his brow furrowing in thought. "When can we see her?" His voice is earnest, full of longing. I can hear the worry tucked beneath his words, and it tugs at my heart. "Yeah, we want to see Y/n!" Billy adds, his expression mirroring his brother's eagerness.

Wanda glances at me, and I can feel the weight of our responsibilities bearing down. "We'll take you to see her in the morning," I promise, seeing their faces light up with hope. "But remember, she might be tired and need to rest, so we have to be gentle with her."

"Yay!" Tommy cheers, his voice ringing through the hallway, and Billy joins in, practically bouncing on his heels with excitement. Their joy is palpable, a reminder of the happiness that can still exist even amidst uncertainty and pain.

Just then, Steve steps out from the kitchen, having been quietly observing the boys from a distance. His presence brings a calmness to the chaos, and I find comfort in knowing he's here. "Hey, how are you two doing?" he asks, his eyes twinkling as he takes in the scene of our little family reunion.

"Mama and mom just told us that Y/n is coming home soon!" Tommy exclaims, practically vibrating with excitement, his hands flailing as he gestures animatedly.

"Yeah, and we're planning the best birthday for her ever!" Billy adds, his voice bubbling over with enthusiasm, his cheeks flushed with energy.

"Sounds like you're all set for a celebration," Steve says with a smile, nodding approvingly. He leans against the wall, crossing his arms as he watches the boys with fondness. "I'll leave you to it. Just let me know if you need anything." He shoots us a knowing look, one that acknowledges the weight of what we're dealing with, before stepping back into the kitchen.

As Wanda and I stand there, our boys filled with excitable plans, I can't help but feel a mix of gratitude and dread. Gratitude for the moments of joy, the laughter that fills our home, and the love that binds us together. Sadness that our family isn't complete and dread for the challenges still ahead. We're still on shaky ground, still trying to piece together the remnants of our family after everything that's happened.

But for now, I push those worries aside. I take a deep breath, inhaling the comforting scent of our home, and look around at the smiling faces of my children. "Okay, let's start planning for this birthday celebration!" I suggest, my heart lifting at the idea of planning something special for Y/n.

"We need balloons. And streamers!" Tommy states excitedly, his eyes bright with ideas. "And cake!" Billy insists, his mouth already watering at the thought. "What kind should we get her?"

As we brainstorm, I can't help but smile. We'll take this one step at a time. Tomorrow, we'll bring the boys to see Y/n, and hopefully, we'll be one step closer to bringing her home where she belongs. Hopefully, she'll see that we plan to be the best parents to her and in time she'll forgive us. I feel a flicker of hope, ignited by the boys' excitement and determination to make their sister smile, to show her that she is loved and missed.

"Let's get started," I say, my voice full of warmth as I gather them into a huddle, my heart swelling with pride. Together, we can do this. Together, we can find a way to help Y/n heal, and maybe even begin to mend the cracks that have formed in our family.

Taglist: @reggierizzoli @ordelixx @mousetheorist @oh-thats-cute @bstvst @waiqui @fxckmiup @kosmichs1 @theprincipality

[jarofstyles]

prince harry and common girl lover (best friends since childhood) + “we can’t keep hiding like this”

OH YES!!!! A bit of forbidden love.

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------

The wind billowed the edge of the blanket they laid on, hiding underneath the willow tree as the sun got a bit lower in the sky. Being wrapped in Harry's arms was the most safe she ever felt, despite the fact it was the most dangerous place to be. His heart thumped steadily against her cheek, fingers running over the opposite as she felt his eyes burning a hole into her.

"We can't keep hiding like this." His voice rasped, lips turned downward. "I can't handle it anymore, Petal. I've been trying to find ways to be alright with hiding how much of my heart that you own but I keep hitting a wall. I believe it's because something is telling me I shouldn't hide you." He gently ran his knuckle over the bridge of her nose. "I want to tell them. Everyone."

Y/N's eyes burned as she closed them, trying to control the shaky exhale she released. It didn't work. She knew he was an optimist, her beautiful sunshine prince, but he had too much to lose. She couldn't be selfish with him, not when the entire kingdom would rely on him one day. "You know we shouldn't, Harry. You've been promised to someone else since the day you were noticed in your mother's belly." It was hard to control her voice, the weakness of it giving it away to Harry that she was struggling.

Nudging her up, he cupped the side of her face and thumbed over the high round of her cheek. Eyes scanned her face, taking in her slightly wobbly bottom lip and the glaze over her eyes that wrecked him. It shouldn't be this difficult. He shouldn't have to hide the person he loved with his entire being, so much so that she consumed him. He knew his mother would understand, but his father would be resistant. He would tell him that a future king had to make decisions they didn't like, and he would need to abide by the arrangement.

"I want to marry you, Petal." He whispered, connecting their lips at the end of the word. It was a pained kiss, one he was trying to melt into softness. Take away the brittle edges and file them down smoothly, let her feel the way he did. His sweet girl was so afraid, so nervous of what would become of them but Harry couldn't fathom a world without her at his side. "I want you to lay next to me at night, I want your hand in mine, your lips to only ever feel the shape of my own. I crave you every single second you are away from me. Don't you understand? How I yearn for you, I ache. Not just to be inside of you, but to be with you. To listen to your breaths as you sleep, just knowing that you're there." He swallowed thickly, nudging his nose against her own and took another kiss. Harder this time, a harsh breath leaving his nose as he pulled her, moving her dress so she could straddle his lap.

"My love, my sweet, my Petal. Please... allow me to take the risk." He pleaded. "Allow me to tell them of us, let me take the punishments if need be. I will do anything for you." His words were whimpered as he pressed frantic kisses to her lips, her cheeks, her forehead. "I feel like I'm going insane. As the day of the engagement party grows closer, I feel the walls of the castle getting smaller. I feel suffocated. The only time I can breathe is with you." His hands clutched her close, almost as if to prevent her from slipping through his fingers.

"Oh, Harry." She whispered sadly, watching his eyes water. It was unlike him, her sunshine prince. He was so bright, so warm. To see the storm clouds settle over the sun was alarming and she hated the sight. It wasn't right. "Do you think I don't feel the same? That I'm not physically ill at the idea of you bedding someone other than me, even if it is only to provide an heir? Do you think I don't cry in my bed after I leave the sparkling stars and you, wishing I could crawl back to you? But I feel so selfish." She pecked his nose, letting their foreheads rest together. "So, so selfish. What if they strip your title? What if they banish you? What if it's forced regardless and there's a rift between you and your family? I cannot bear the idea of ruining your life. I can't take the sunshine away from you."

The world was quiet. The birds chirped and the branches moved, leaves rustling in the wind, but the only sound they could hear was each others breaths and their own heartbeats in their ears.

"I would let them." He whispered after a moment. "I would let them take it all away from me before I let them take you. I don't think you grasp how much you mean to me. You are my heart." His eyes burned as he looked at her. "I would run with you, I would find us somewhere and build a life with you. Nothing else matters more than you." He sniffled, pressing his lips back against her and laying repetitive kisses to her lips. It was hard to convey just how much he truly loved her. How she had his heart in her hands and his should wrapped around her finger.

"Harry..." She laughed through a tear, looking down at the hand holding her waist tight. "I hope you know I feel the same for you. You're what I need." Her fingers brushed the hair that had fallen into his face, the soft curls unfairly highlighted caramel in the sunlight that bled through the leaves. He was inhumanly handsome. "I'm afraid for you."

"I'm afraid for myself if I don't admit my love for you. I can't be trapped in a loveless marriage when I have a love. The greatest lover there is. I want children with you, I want you by my side. Whether I'm king or not, having you would be my biggest accomplishment." He meant every word. Every beat of his heart belonged to her. "I'm going to tell them. I'm going to make you my wife, regardless of the cost. All I'll ever need is you."

[aventurine83]

Not Another Song About Love

Lilia Vanrouge x Reader

Notes : G/N! Reader, war era General Lilia, angst

Let it out.

Been building up, you better let it out.

Say everything that you've been meaning now.

I want it to burn.

Lilia felt tired. There was an aching sensation in his heart, one that tore away at him. He wished he could stop thinking about them. He wished he could stop thinking about their voice, their lips, the shape of their eyes and the way the corner of their eyes crinkled when they laughed. Excruciating pain was only to set foot in a most sultry manner in the depths of his heart.

When you tell me I'm such a wreck.

It isn't easy cleaning up your mess.

It's like I've got a rope around my neck.

She says it won't hurt.

It was so difficult for him, always being the one to look after others, cleaning up their messes. But Y/N, they were the one to always take care of him. Meleanor had said love wouldn't hurt, that Lilia should just embrace his feelings. But it felt as if he would suffocate from it any second. He couldn't love anyone. He wasn't capable of it. He was just a filthy, useless bat. A lowlife whose magic was polluted. He could not possibly be in a beautiful feeling such as love. He could never deign himself worthy to be in love, what he had was probably obsession. After all, a pure thing like love could never exist in his heart. He was lower than the low. The senators had never failed to remind him of that.

But everything you do makes my heart race.

I can't even think straight.

Is this just a game to you?

Reruns every night.

It's always the same fight.

And I think you should know.

He was probably just a game to Y/N. They probably didn't even care about him much. Why would they? He was just a mere commoner, a mere soldier. They were so much more. They were the radiant light, he was nothing in comparison, other than perhaps the annoyingly persistent shadows that inked the bright meadows with a murky black. Whenever they touched him softly and bandaged him, and cheered him on with their gentle and unyielding words. They were probably either pitying him or playing around with his pathetic self for a brief moment. They couldn't possibly love him. It was impossible.

I hate your touch, I hate your mouth.

I can't stand every single word that falls out.

But you're all that I've been dreaming of.

This is not another song about love.

Lilia wished to hear more of their sweet compliments, even if he did not deserve it. He yearned for more. He wished that he was the one they held in their embrace. He wished he was the one Y/N saw and called their love. He hated feeling this way, and yet he couldn't help himself. Lilia wanted himself in their loving arms, in their life, in their home. If they allowed him. It was his one and only earnest desire.

I hate your voice, I hate your lips.

I hate how bad I wanna steal your kiss.

But you're all that I've been dreaming of.

This is not another song about love.

Lilia often found himself staring at their lips, wondering how they would taste. Wondering whether their lips would be soft or slightly chapped. He dreamt often of a life where they loved him back and kissed him the way he had always wanted them to. Their arms would be wrapped around his petite waist as they pressed their lips upon his. And he would kiss them back, till his lips tired of kissing their worries away. He despised how much he craved for these fantasies, despite knowing that they would never come true. He could never be theirs. He had a duty to his country, and to Meleanor. To his dear old friend Raven as well. He could never fall in love. His was a life of serving, and they deserved much better than the servant that was him.

Lilia closed his eyes and went to sleep. And this time, he hoped he would never dream of the person he "loved".

---------------------------------------------------

@koneko-dreams Your order!!

[valworth]

I do think that Wrightworth's popularity makes the AA fandom slightly uninhabitable. I'm by no means the first person to say this, but it sure is on my mind. This isn't to say I don't understand the appeal. I do. They have some incredibly strong moments and are an interesting, compelling couple. They are also both massive bitches, which is tremendously fun. My issue lies more so in how inescapable it is.

I think both Phoenix and Edgeworth deserve the grace to be interpreted apart from each other. They are individuals, with massive lives outside of the other. I think it's really insulting when some can't bear to think of the two apart, god forbid in other relationships, for more than five seconds before they have to make a joke about how they're the most important couple. We get it. Can people talk about something else, though?

Not only that, but I yearn for more varied and nuanced depictions of their relationship, if we're using them at all. My request will always be to make it fail. They're so compelling as a failed couple. I mean, god. You, on an obsessive whim, shape your life around chasing this guy. This guy you knew for a year in elementary school. You have other reasons, but always in your mind, there he is. This thing that's just out of reach, a goal to pursue. Then it happens. You get him, and you win, and it's everything you dreamed. And then it isn't. It just doesn't work. Plain and simple, cruel and real. You're not a good couple, and it crumbles, and every time you see him from that point forward, you have this pang of anger. This feeling of betrayal. You were not what I wanted you to be.

Then there's the inverse of that. The feelings that come from being a trophy, a conquest, an item. They both lack the emotional intelligence to talk about and navigate their own feelings, with Phoenix running head-on into everything with reckless abandon, refusing to question his own motives, and Miles having a tendency to detach himself from his issues as hard as he possibly can. It's such an interesting, flawed basis for a relationship. That's just my take, though. It's how I like them, and no one else will ever be beholden to my interpretations!

I get AA is escapism for a lot of people, and if that's how it works for you, total respect. But I crave variety, god I do. It's not about being right, it's not about being wrong, I just think there are so many ways to play with these characters and the fandom is stuck in a rut of samey-same content, both happy and sad. I'm not here to shame you for liking what you like, either. I'm pretty esoteric. I mean, Jesus. There's nothing less welcome in the AA fandom than a self shipper getting between Wrightworth. I don't mind doing my own thing, and I'm happier with fewer eyes on me anyway. If my stuff upsets you, that's okay.

That being said, I think I'd have a much easier time being around the fandom if people treated it less like there was a way to interpret the games correctly. The general fandom consensus is suffocating at times. Escapism can be dangerous if you don't know how to handle threats to your perception of a made-up world. I don't mean that to be condescending, I've just been there.

It was a breath of fresh air to leave the AA fandom for a while and focus on something built upon 18 years of fan-interpretations, with no right answers. Where every artist's version of them feels drastically different. It made me realize how silly this all is. It also made me remember how sad it was that when I joined the fandom and started trying to share my opinions on certain Phoen-ish ships, a popular AA blogger publicly ridiculed me and let their followers harass me. I just don't understand why the AA fandom compels people to feel like they have to be correct about everything. I've had to be very careful not to let feelings like that sour the whole franchise for me.

I myself have veered into that territory, and it's why I don't like writing this post. I don't want to be that person. I think everyone should be able to give each other space to do what makes them happy. If common fandom interpretations are what you like, then go with those. If you're like me, though, and you've ever been nervous to share headcanons and analyses that are unpopular, this is me telling you I think you're great. Say what you want, make what you want. It doesn't have to make sense. It doesn't have to be right. People might be mean about it, but you still deserve the right to self-actualization, even if no one else likes the things you do.

It's more important for you to post what you want than for others not to see it. If you're not hurting anyone, you can always rest assured that you've no reason to entertain their ire. From the bottom of my heart, just get silly with it.

[anikaarchive]

The nights are the longest

God why do you do this to me?

Why do i miss you so much that it's painful? I dread the nights the most. How long they are without you around. How when everyones asleep the only thing i'm left with is the memories of you, it's like i'm drowning in them, suffocating almost. The only thing i desire right now is you, yet it is only you who is hurting me.

you're the cause of my pain but also the solution

i wish it wasn't like this. I wish you weren't so immature. i wish we weren't teenagers making our teenager mistakes. I wish you sorted yourself out now. we could've been happy if we were just older, more experienced. we could've been happy if it was a different time.

i hate moving on, i hate change, but i have to now. I have to move on and let you go... Because i can't keep waiting, yearning for someone who doesn't want me anymore. it's embarrassing.

I just want to be loved. I waited my whole life, read it in stories, watched it in films thinking that i could never find it. This feels like a cruel joke. The first time i've ever been loved by another and it's taken away from me just as fast. i feel like a fool

i'm sorry. i'm sorry you hate me now, i'm sorry there's nothing i can do to change that. if hating me keeps you comfortable, if dragging my name through the dirt when you talk about me makes you feel better then that's okay. I'm not bitter anymore, i still love you.

I hope you're happy.. that's all i ever wanted to give you, happiness. Even If it means the very thing that would give you that is my absence... i'm gone now. i'm not going to bother you anymore.

This is my final act of love, respecting your wishes, and setting you free. I hope you take care of yourself now, i hope you find that happiness i couldn't give you with my presence.

I love you.

[red-riding-wood]

@toms-cherry-trees Mars, I am utterly speechless after reading this masterpiece. Let me try and articulate why I love this so much (and try not to quote the entire thing in the process), but genuinely, no words can do this justice.

The things one does for love,

Already starting strong here; not only did this make me think of Jaime's "The things I do for love" but also, what a deliciously dark hook with her standing over the body. At first I thought it might be Tommy, then Greta, then Grace... what a rollercoaster and such suspense you injected in this story simply by setting this first scene!

I also want to say, I am ALL HERE for the Crimson Peak vibes. I love that film and its atmosphere so much, as I think I've already mentioned over call, but seriously you do a brilliant job of capturing the same sinister vibes!

During that time, you were forced to see John go too, then your own brothers and friends, an endless supply of fresh meat to feed the insatiable beast awaiting in the Flanders fields.

This is just such a beautiful metaphor for the war; I had to read it twice 'cause I swear my jaw dropped.

A sharp jaw, sunken cheeks and deep set eyes replaced the once boyish face. The boy you had fallen for had ceased to exist, but your passion for the man remained just the same, even with time and distance trying to suffocate your flame.

I... I have no words. This line, it's perfect. Perfect for describing Tommy post-war and perfect for how I imagine their relationship would indeed suffer.

But even in the joy of finally obtaining what you had so long desired, you couldn’t not notice how his drive didn’t come from love. It tasted like desperation, like urge, like fear. The imperious need to feel something, anything at all to remind himself he remained alive. Seeking the warmth the trenches had stolen from him.

As soon as I read the line about him getting the reader's dress off within a night or something, I already suspected that Tommy was just doing this to feel something, to fill the emptiness or silence the demons in his head. And then you not only confirm that but hit me with this gorgeous fucking line. This again just really encapsulates Tommy's character as a whole, his emptiness and his need to take and destory and gain.

You wanted him to want your soul, not just your body.

Oh my God, the angst is so, so FUCKING GOOD. It's the kind of angst that is so dark and desperate and so human that it's just pure beauty. It also reminded me a lot of Creep - Radiohead (one of my favourite songs); "I want a perfect body, I want a perfect soul..." So bonus points because genuinely that's one of my favourite songs of all time and this fic has been giving me those vibes. The yearning of the reader is so heart-wrenching to read yet also so delicious.

Tommy x the reader actually reminds me a lot of the dynamic he has with Lizzie, especially when they get married for the kid and are stuck in this loveless, one-sided marriage. And I don't mean that as an insult because I don't like Lizzie -- you took the interesting parts of her character (the jealousy, pining, vindication, the need to be loved, the inability to let go) and just made them a thousand times better here.

trying to build himself together but falling apart again every night.

Just another line of pure fucking poetry.

Yo, I fucking lost it when it got to the line about Polly holding her tit like an orange at the market. I instantly knew what was up lmao.

Refusing to let you in but unwilling to let you go.

Mars, stop, please, with all this poetry! (But don't, because it's incredible.) I'm quoting the whole damn story at this point! This line, and this whole section about their marriage, I love it so much. I can't imagine the emotional turmoil the reader must be going through getting all these mixed signals from Tommy. The scene where she asked him to say I love you back was such a hit in the gut. As I'm typing this I'm actually realising how brilliant all of this build-up to her killing Grace is, because you made a villain that has reason to be acting the way she does. All of this pain and resentment and envy, bottled up over so many years... even though what she does is deplorable, you can't help but empathise or sympathise with her and THAT is the mark of a perfectly written villain. In my case, I even found myself cheering her on. Her character is so delightfully dark and twisted and unhinged, perhaps even a little delusional. I LOVE that shit and words cannot express how much I adore the character and story you've crafted here.

If the devil worked hard, you worked harder.

Another thing about the main character, I have to say, I commend her determination. A character who will do anything to get what they want is so interesting to read. Also another line that just hits me in the soul!

You leaned against a wall for support, as the full weight of the night dawned over your shoulders.

Beautiful line. Seriously, I am trying not to quote the whole story at this point. It's little lines like these that just add that extra oomph to your prose.

And that ending, with her laughter turning into sobs, again so heartbreaking and doesn't actually make her feel like she's the villain of this story. Despite what she's done, I want to give her a hug and let her cry into my shoulder.

For This Love || Tommy Shelby x Reader

Summary: You have fought for this love far too long, and you weren’t willing to let anyone take it away

Word Count: 3610

Warnings: Cheating, pregnancy, headcanon death, murder, Tommy and Grace are painted in a very bad light here, reader is unhinged AF

Author’s note: I wrote this while watching Crimson Peak and that should be enough to tell you what type of story this is. Not much romance, just a lot of angst, one sided love, vengeance, murder, honestly somebody get Guillermo del Toro on the phone (just kidding) So read at your own discression, for this is a dumpster fire

Part two here

Let me know if you wanna be in my taglist

The things one does for love, you thought, suppressing a wave of nausea as the life gurgled out of your victim’s neck, warm and slick as it slipped around your fingers and stained the blade of crimson. The dark liquid pooled underneath you and drenched the hem of your skirt and the front of your stockings, seeping through the fabric into your skin. 

~

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[sweetofsin]

things i can't relate to that aligns w gay love stereotypes

- immense amount of yearning

personally, i just don't desire romantic love that extremely to the point where i'm laying in my bed at night constantly yearning for a love that may or may not exist. as long as i read some form of romantic media and i have some romance with my close friends, i'm content enough to not yearn (doesn't mean i don't ever desire a romantic partnership though) i also prefer to do romantic experiences irl and not just within my head. like, the main time i'm even able to yearn is if i'm currently experiencing a romantic connection with someone and it makes me daydream about them. and i will find a way to make the daydream happen bc i hate living in my head

- falling in love w straight people

maybe i'm lucky or idk but i've never really found myself heavily desiring someone that was straight? there's just.. not much that attractive to me about straight people. i think maybe there was this one girl i was attracted to and even later on, she turned out to be gay. i really want to know what makes people fall for straight people. bc straight people are usually SO PAINFULLY straight to me. i'm not talking just clothes or whatever. it's the mannerisms, it's the belief systems and values, it's how they think or ways they approach life. queerness is so... so specific and i look at those specifics and that's what makes me attracted to a person. or maybe i just haven't met a straight person that would intrigue me enough for me to be attracted to them, who knows

- the lesbian urge to mesh

i love to be my own individual and vice versa and frankly i would get very annoyed or feel pretty weird if it felt like i couldn't have my own individuality or life to myself. same goes for my partner. like why does love have to equal enmeshment. i don't want to suffocate! there can be distance with love too (to be fair, i have felt this way with people but it was due to them being avoidant in some way and triggering me to be anxious. which led to the illusion that i wanted to enmesh with them, but i didn't)

- uhauling

when it comes to friends or community? yes. i'm down. if i really love a (long-term) friend, and they live somewhere i desire to live as well, i will most definitely pack my bags and pick up a flight. romantically however? hell no. there is no way in hell that i would date someone and move in with them like two months later. i don't understand what's the rush? plus i very much enjoy having my own space and the ability to isolate. so unless it's a two bedroom it's def a no fa me

- phantom ex, aka, 'the one that got away'

this just may be due to the fact that i haven't experienced a healthy intimate romantic partnership, but i just can't really relate. i've had romantic experiences with people where it felt really intense, where at a certain point, i envisioned a future. and even then i get over them kinda quickly... like i'll always be attracted and love them from a distance. but i'm fine with moving on and just finding other people and experiences, albeit they're hard to find. that could change with a first love, but i also simply just don't think i'm the type to heavily ponder and cling onto the past romantically wise. i be excited to venture out into the new tbh

- "i fell in love with my best friend and i haven't told them and it's been two years"

even if i wanted to relate, i couldn't. i try my best to hide my feelings when i like people, and it might work for a good minute...? until you see me hyperventilating and steam is blowing out of my ears and my eyes are teary and my cheeks are red and i'm nervous looking into your eyes and i keep giggling and laughing and i don't know what to do except randomly on a friday night, i'll just scream that i like you. kudos to people that can keep that shit hidden for a while though, must be nice. but i also don't think i would anyway. i wouldn't suffer in silence for that long. i would just want to hurry up and know if i have a chance or not and i simply would be too impatient to wait for that long. like yes, slow burn, but not torturous burn

- unrequited love

often times i try to be very careful with my feelings because i get terrified of liking people and not knowing how they feel back. so in terms of LOVE? i don't think that would ever happen. i simply wouldn't even allow myself to open those gates and take that plunge into falling in love with someone without knowing if they'd even reciprocate. and i don't glorify or romanticize it either. it's either you like me, or you don't. and if you don't, i'll be sad and move on. i am a masochist but that's a different type of masochism i refuse to succumb to. and why would i cling so heavily onto the possibility of it happening with one person when i know i'll probably end up meeting someone else in like a year or two anyway that will more than likely reciprocate my feelings

[itsokaytobenotokayyy]

Title: Navigating the Storm Within 🌪️

Hey Tumblr fam,

Just a heart-to-heart post about the whirlwind of emotions I've been wrestling with lately. Anxiety and depression have become unwelcome companions, making it a struggle to escape the clutches of the past and the uncertainty of the future.

I'm at a crossroads facing one of the biggest changes in my life, and it's both confusing and terrifying. The apathy is overwhelming, and everyone seems to think it's just a matter of laziness, but it's so much more than that.

I'm yearning for simplicity, for the calm of just being lazy instead of drowning in a sea of emotions every day for the past three months. Hoping against hope that things will change, but in the same breath, fearing that maybe this is my new normal.

The well-intentioned advice and psychoanalysis from others only add to the weight, and the pressure to conform to what they think I should do is suffocating. Sometimes, all I need is understanding rather than solutions.

[otpaholic]

What to do when you're yearning mann

Tis isn't the season 😔😔

GOD GOD GOD WHYYY ARE GIRLS SO FUCKING PRETTYYYY

It's been like 2 hours and I can't stop thinking about her hair and her smile and her dimples and even her fucking teeth and the adorable way she looks away while giggling and how hot she looks when she's in charge and Aaaa. Also her eyes are really beautiful and she smells soo good

Today she stretched and she was wearing a cropped hoodie. And I died at the skin that showed. Also I'm in love with her soft tummy and her thick thighs and like. I realllllyy will have no problems if I'm suffocated between them like I'll literally be the happiest person alive. Also her arms are perfect for cuddling and they're so fucking strong and big and like. She tied her hair up and her muscles flexed and all I could think of was her picking me up and man handling me. And she's tall as fuck and I'm on the shorter side and she drives and all of this just makes her hotter oh my goddddd please why am I such a useless bisexual I have WORK to do and this girl hasn't stopped running through my head!!!!! I feel so fucking weird like!! I've never thought so much about someone before ever!! I literally have to stop myself from stalking her Instagram!!! I'm so far gone that today I invented an hour of work after class just to spend time with her(and it worked)!!

And worse part is !!! I don't even know if she's into girls! Like I have an inkling that she's queer and kind of into me? but if I'm pining after a straight girl oh my god I'm gonna be the biggest fool ever god pls save me if I'm being delusional

Anyways girls. Especially this girl is pretty as fuck and we vibe really well. And we have to see each other and work together for the next 2 months almost everyday. God is it my turn finally pleaseeee

[btscontentenjoyer]

I'M SO EXCITED! I'M SO EXCITED! I'M SO EXCITED! I'M SO EXCITED! I'M SO EXCITED! I'M SO EXCITED! I'M SO EXCITED! I'M SO EXCITED! I'M SO EXCITED! I'M SO EXCITED!

"Sometimes, you question what your presence in his life truly is. Are you an escape or a punching bag? Are you merely something he can sink his nails and teeth into when he’s angry? Something he can break without getting cut? Whether the touch is gentle or bruising, having his hands on you feels so sweet. The sound of thread ripping fills the car as he slides the silk off your shoulders, letting the delicate material fall to the floor without a care in the world." I love your writing, Kiki, so so much. And I love the atmosphere I can feel from both of the teasers, it feels dark, gloomy and stormy somehow and I'm so freaking excited!!!!

“You care about me?” Moonlight cuts through the dewy window, beaming against the side of his pale face, highlighting the taut pull in his features. His question seems genuine, but the answer is obvious, isn’t it? Simply being here with him makes the entire foundation of your soul, all of your beliefs and morals, crumble to pieces. But against your better judgment, you’re still here. Yearning. Trying. Fighting. Gently, you swipe a thumb over his thick brows, trying to ease the angry crinkle that’s become a permanent fixture on his beautiful face. You comb through his hair. It’s a little knotted, a little crunchy from old gel. The answer should be obvious, but you don’t think Jungkook could internalize love if it was right in front of him." Naurrr, here you are, making me soft for dilf JK immediately. I know he's somewhat of an asshole but seeing him through OC's eyes doesn't help the fact that I don't actually hate him. Watch me be way too understanding and lenient with this man when this comes out 😭😭😭😭😭

"The stars in his eyes gleam for a moment, bright and vibrant, before they’re engulfed by the suffocating blackness of his pupils. “You poor thing,” Jungkook tuts, trailing his fingers up your neck before grasping your jaw with a single hand. Your cheeks mush together from the force. “You're gonna let me do whatever I want to you, aren't you?” Aaaand there he is lmaooo. I can't lie though, that's extremely hot, so it's still nothing I can hold against him. The cheating is something I will hold against him though, of course. Although I feel like there's definitely a lot of grey areas in that situation too, it seems like everything in this story has them and I love that.

I have been thinking about this all day and I've been waiting to get to it because I've been too busy. When I finally sat down to read it now, I might have let out a little sound of excitement 🤭🤭🤭 And it will be so much louder next week lmaoo. I have to say it again, I'm so so excited to read the whole thing!!!!

the weekend | jjk (teaser #2)

⇢ PAIRING: dilf!jk x babysitter reader

⇢ RATING/GENRE: m/18+ | infidelity au, sm*t, angst

⇢ WARNINGS: full fic is extremely angsty and v sm*tty, this is v suggestive but no actual sm*t in the teaser, dom jk, he is v rough with reader but its all consensual obvi!! age gap (reader is 23 and jk is like 30/31)

⇢ SUMMARY: every weekend, you give jungkook a little taste of something he’s missing monday through friday.

⇢ NOTES: hi friends!! so i posted the first teaser all the way back in F-ING january like ??? here it is if you haven't read it. but school has been so hectic that i haven't been able to get any writing done. but, this week was saur productive n i am almost done!! was debating including some spoilers in this but dediced against it so here's some spicy sm*t build up lol!! full fic will most likely will be posted 7pm est next friday!! ALSO IMPORTANT NOTE, IF YOU WANT TO READ THIS FIC AND OTHER BTS SMUT, PLS CLICK HERE. SM*T IS BEING CENSORED AND YOU'RE PROBABLY MISSING SM CONTENT WITHOUT EVEN KNOWING IT OKAY LMAO BYE!!

Sometimes, you question what your presence in his life truly is. Are you an escape or a punching bag? Are you merely something he can sink his nails and teeth into when he’s angry? Something he can break without getting cut? Whether the touch is gentle or bruising, having his hands on you feels so sweet. The sound of thread ripping fills the car as he slides the silk off your shoulders, letting the delicate material fall to the floor without a care in the world.

“You wore this for me?” A fingertip lightly traces the petite swell of your breasts, bulging over the black frilly cups of your push-up. The sensation sets your skin ablaze.

“Mhm,” you confirm, “I wanted today to be special.”

“You care about me?” Moonlight cuts through the dewy window, beaming against the side of his pale face, highlighting the taut pull in his features. His question seems genuine, but the answer is obvious, isn’t it? Simply being here with him makes the entire foundation of your soul, all of your beliefs and morals, crumble to pieces. But against your better judgment, you’re still here. Yearning. Trying. Fighting. Gently, you swipe a thumb over his thick brows, trying to ease the angry crinkle that’s become a permanent fixture on his beautiful face. You comb through his hair. It’s a little knotted, a little crunchy from old gel. The answer should be obvious, but you don’t think Jungkook could internalize love if it was right in front of him.

“I care about you,” you answer honestly, “more than you know.”

The stars in his eyes gleam for a moment, bright and vibrant, before they’re engulfed by the suffocating blackness of his pupils. “You poor thing,” Jungkook tuts, trailing his fingers up your neck before grasping your jaw with a single hand. Your cheeks mush together from the force. “You're gonna let me do whatever I want to you, aren't you?”

© chryblossomjjk 2023 [do not copy, translate or repost]

[kantoumaws]

#1 - let us in.

he didn't know what to expect when kazutora showed up at his front door, drenched in sweat and looking erratic and troubled, staring down at him with wide eyes before he suddenly brings chifuyu into a suffocating hug. when he texted that he would be coming over, chifuyu couldn't even tell that it was lathered with such a distressed demeanour on kazutora's part. he was panting against his shoulder, skin warm against chifuyu's, like he'd just ran a marathon to get here.

"uh? t-tora?" chifuyu stammers, holding onto him as he leans back and looks at the male with a puzzled expression. "did something happen?"

the silence that follows was deafening, and all he can hear next is a relieved sigh and a grunt as the hold around him loosens little.

it conflicts chifuyu, that he feels the familiar thump in his heart he felt for baji is beating all the same for kazutora too when their gazes meet. each time, each damn time, it awakens something within him that suffocates him with a heavy weight of guilt.

he feels pathetic, greedy, for wanting two of them at the same time, and tries to ignore the decisive need to ruin what he has with kazutora, too, lightly pushing at the other's chest a little. his mother is inside, after all, it would be... weird, to be seen like this.

the other male, nonchalant as ever, pulls away and holds onto chifuyu's forearms gently. like he had to be careful with it, as if chifuyu could break and fall apart with the slightest touch. it's like tora could read his mind when he reaches to rub soothing touches across his knuckles, making his ear redden a little.

"sorry, man, i thought you needed a hug," tora exclaims with a big grin, breaking the silence as he's already removing his shoes. "can i come in?"

before he could even answer, the male has already stepped inside and closer the door behind him, dragging him along towards his room upstairs. hah, that's how kazutora is, always making himself at home so easily because of how close they really are after all these years.

"keisuke told me," were his first words when they're locked inside his room. chifuyu didn't exactly know where they were going with this, until tora continued, "that you confessed and apologised that you liked him." all the colour on his face drains into completely paleness immediately, expecting the worse in an instant as he looks away in embarrassment, even when the other squeezed around his hands tightly in reassurance.

right. kazutora and baji-san both hinted that they were together. it was never explicitly said, but chifuyu isn't dumb, he could read between the lines. to think that he'd dare get between them... he hangs his head in shame, readily opening his mouth to apologise to him too, until kazutora brings him into a hug again, suffocatingly holding him against his chest.

"what to do, chifuyu? i like you, too. i had to admit to him and now to you, that... i've been in love with you for the past few years. you looked at him with so much love, but why can't i see that when you look at me?"

ah?

nothing compares to the puzzled look on his face when he leans away and stares up at kazutora in confusion. what... was happening—

"wait, wait what—"

"chifuyu."

"—y-yes?"

"do you like me too?"

he starts stammering again, pushing against the other's chest and blushing hard before biting down on his lower lip. what would his answer determine? of course he likes kazutora. more than friends, even, considering the many times they had hung out, kissed, even explored each other's bodies as teenagers, and even in adulthood. kazutora has been a part of his sexual awakening that he had to forget forcefully so he doesn't yearn for something he couldn't get. but what is he hearing now? that he likes him too?

"i do. i— liked you for a long time. and it conflicts me that i also like baji-san so much. i feel my heart race when i'm around you two, and i feel it's unfair for everyone involved. i—i can't choose, alright? so i'd. rather not get ahead of myself and forg—"

"i just needed to know that. do you want to date us both?"

"HUH—?"

this was awfully straightforward for chifuyu's little brain. it's moving too fast, he doesn't even realise he's redfaced and warm all over now, choking a little as he covers his mouth from letting out a squeak. what did he mean, date them both?

"hold on, it makes no sense. how can i...?"

"keisuke likes you too, y'know. he suppressed it out of guilt, as if he ain't got so much love in his heart to give both you and i," kazutora hums, reaching for chifuyu's hands again. "and nobody understands me better than you. i mean, you ask about my wellbeing all the time. you looked out for me, for him, for everyone, and so i think ya deserve to be loved back tenfolds. can i? can i love you, chifuyu? can he love you?"

this is... all new to him. it's bizarre, incomprehensible, at most. but just the notion of loving the two of them back equally makes him warm all over, and he just might know what to do and say soon enough.

"let's... you know what, let me tell this to baji-san too. bring me to him."

[flying-kanery]

Voice

Hey queens! Soooooooo this is my first time ever posting one of the many fics I've written and it honestly feels surreal lol. Anyways, any and all writing advice is more than welcome! I'm so glad to finally be actively participating in the little kanera community on tumblr! I hope you guys enjoy the fic and that it brings even just a little smile to y'all's faces :)

Notes: This fic is the first part of a five-part series I'm planning to write. Each chapter is going to be inspired by one of the five love languages (words of affirmation, physical touch, gift giving, acts of service, and quality time). I guess you could say that it’s a late response to the Kanera week prompt “love languages” although I’ve actually been working on it for a while lol. This chapter is inspired by words of affirmation, thus the title: Voice.

Everyone in the fandom, myself included, seems to really like the idea of Hera singing. So I've wanted to write a fic about what singing means to Hera for a long time and here it is!!!

I actually started writing this fic on my birthday in early August (stay with me I promise this is significant lol) and I always pictured that Hera was a Leo like me (I'm definitely not projecting). So anyways, I picture this fic taking place soon after her birthday, which is why it starts with Kanan kind of reminiscing about when she was younger and thinking about how much she's grown as a person and stuff. Just wanted to explain my thought process there lol ;)

Anyways, here's the fic (rating: G):

Hera was twenty now, so they had been together for about a year and a half.

He remembered it. Meeting her when she was eighteen. It was such a different time. She was so light and airy, as if she didn't have a care in the world somehow–even though clearly she did. She cared about everyone. She was always more in touch with the pain of others than she was with her own emotions. She was alone, not taking into account the company of her droid of course, but she didn't seem bothered by it. She never lost hope in people, despite the fact that no one had believed in her enough to join her cause yet. That was the thing about eighteen-year-old Hera. She could connect with and understand just about anyone, but no one could really understand her.

She was always magnetic. Eyes and smiles followed her wherever she walked. But the thing that captured all kinds of people, the thing about her that made the air in the room become arid and still, as if the wind itself was stopping to listen--was her voice.

It didn't matter who was listening. Whether it was thugs with nowhere better to be or a wealthy rogue senator over a transmission or even a disillusioned ex-jedi who had used up all of his strength to bury and suffocate the love inside of him. When Hera spoke, you listened, some of the thugs even nodded, and everyone obeyed.

Her voice was the first thing that captured him the second that they met. But it wasn't just the sound of her voice. It was the soul behind every vibration. He just knew there was something more. Something deep inside of her, yearning for him to pull it out--set it free.

Of course, he didn't realize that that was the reason he loved her voice, at first. He just thought it was beautiful--and he wasn't wrong. It's just that now, he realized there was so much more to her voice.

Now, what he had always known had been fully realized: the reason that he couldn't help but follow her and eventually get completely and permanently swept up in the storm of sound she created every time she spoke.

Now, he realized that her voice had always been calling to him because her voice was his calling. Hera's voice was one of the biggest ways she expressed herself and exposed her soul to the world. However, as open-hearted, expressive, and brave as Hera was, she still kept so much of her soul private--which, at this point, meant between the two of them.

He knew that there was so much of her soul that only he got to see--as if that part of her was made just for him. He was the only person who got to see and love and be a part of all of her.

He was beyond honored and ecstatic to be that person--the one who got to love everything she is.

But there was still one part of Hera that not even he had fully experienced yet.

The first and only time he had ever heard Hera sing was in the middle of the night when he was half-asleep, just waking from a nightmare, eyes so blurred with tears that he could barely make out her face right above his. But he could hear the melody she was singing and it was like nothing he had ever heard before. It felt like a dream, but when he woke up the next morning, remembering what he had heard the night before, something inside of him just knew it was real.

He often replayed that memory of her singing to him and it always made him smile, but a part of him just wanted to hear more.

He was just replaying that favorite memory of his while making repairs in the cargo bay when suddenly, he heard it.

"Hold me close and hold me fast."

He stopped his work.

"This magic spell you cast."

He climbed up the ladder to the lounge, his mind solely focusing on her voice.

“This is la vie en rose.”

When he reached the top, he moved through the lounge as quietly as he could towards the cockpit, where the singing was coming from.

Luckily, Hera couldn’t see him, even though he was standing right outside the open doors to the cockpit, because she was lying on the ground positioned beneath the Ghost’s control panel.

“When you kiss me, heaven sighs”

”And though I close my eyes–”

She looked up to reach for another tool and right as she did, Kanan side-stepped so that his back was against the durasteel wall right by the doorwary.

She grabbed the tool and layed back down.

“I see la vie en rose.”

He peeked his head into the doorway and continued to watch her sing—entranced by the way the song spoke to his heart.

The way he could sense the happiness radiating off of her told him who she was singing to—even if she didn’t know that he was actually listening.

“When you press me to your heart, I’m in a world apart–a world where roses bloom”

He relaxed against the doorframe, letting her voice wash over him.

“And when you speak angels sing from above. Everyday words seem to turn into love songs.”

He felt an overwhelming sense of calm. Peace flowed through him with every breath he took, as Hera’s song filled the air.

“Give your heart and soul to me and life will always be la vie en rose.”

As she continued on with her work, she began humming the melody of the song.

Kanan wanted to stay and listen to her all day, but he knew she would get suspicious if she found that at the end of the day he hadn’t finished all of his repairs. So he walked back down to the cargo bay, still listening to the sound of her hums as he went.

~

That night, as he pulled Hera close to his chest, he whispered against her forehead,

“Can I ask you something?”

Hera lifted her head to look at him, “Yes, love.”

Kanan laughed, “Okay, well…It’s just kind of a random question.”

She smiled, “Aren’t they always?”

He paused for a moment, then shrugged. “Yeah, I guess so,” he said laughing.

“So what is it?”

Another moment passed as Kanan wondered how he should go about asking this question. Slowly and simply he said, “Do you like to sing?”

What?

Hera was dumbfounded by Kanan’s strange question. She also couldn’t seem to verbalize any kind of response to it, which she wasn’t used to. However, as of late, it was becoming more and more common for her to be at a loss for words, specifically in situations involving Kanan. That man never ceased to surprise her.

Kanan just patiently waited for her to respond. She could tell by his expression that he was open to hear any answer she gave him. That always made her feel safe—the fact that she could just look into his eyes and know that there was never any pressure for her to do any certain thing or act any certain way. She could just be herself. She didn’t have to try around him at all. She could just be.

Letting that feeling of safety surround her is how she managed to finally get a few words out, “Uh…yeah, I do actually. Just not really in front of other people–well, I’m just kind of shy about my voice.”

“Oh,” he nodded. “I understand…Why are you shy about your voice?” he asked, tilting his head a little like an adorable puppy.

How could she not open up to that?

“I guess I just…I don’t know. I just–don’t wanna draw attention to myself? Even if it’s just one person’s attention. I just feel so vulnerable when I sing, you know?”

Kanan nodded once again as a silent moment passed.

“My mother used to sing to me a lot…She would always tell me that when you sing, you open up your soul to other people. You put a piece of your heart into the words you’re singing for all to hear…I just struggle with being that open I guess.”

Kanan smiled, “That makes sense.” He pulled her closer and wrapped his arms around her. “You deserve to feel safe.”

~

When Kanan woke up the next morning, Hera was already  awake propped up on top of him, her face right above his.

“Good morning, Hera,” he grabbed her face and kissed the space between her eyebrows.

She laughed, “Good morning.”

A tense moment of silence passed as Hera’s expression suddenly changed to one of worry. He could tell there was something she wanted to say—no, not necessarily say, but something she had to let out.

She rested her head on his chest. Another quiet moment and then,

“Wise men say, only fools rush in”

He looked down at her, awe in his eyes. She nervously fiddled with the hair on his chest.

“But I can’t help falling in love with you.”

His heart felt like it was going to explode. He smiled wide and kissed the top of her head, urging her to go on.

“Oh, shall I stay? Would it be a sin? If I can’t help falling in love with you.”

He held her closer, cherishing this moment. Soaking in this piece of her heart—this part of her—that she was finally sharing with him.

She moved to face him again as she continued.

“Like a river flows surely to the sea, darlin’ so it goes, some things are meant to be”

She moved a few stray hairs behind his ear, and their noses touched.

She touched his hand as she sang,

“Oh, take my hand”

Their fingers interlocked.

“Take my whole life too.”

“For I can’t help falling in love with you.”

She smiled, a big wide, genuine smile.

“Oh, I can’t help falling in love with you”

He lifted her face so that her lips met his. When they finally broke apart, they pressed their foreheads against each other and just sat there, happily looking into each other’s eyes, a quiet understanding between them.

He pressed her to his heart again.

After a moment, she popped right back up and with a wry smile said, “So when do I get to hear you sing?”

He laughed. “You hear me sing all the time! When a song I know comes on the radio, purposefully loud to annoy you, or embarrass you if we’re in public–”

“No, Kanan,” she laughed. “I mean, like actually sing.”

“Actually sing?”

“Like, actually try to sound good.”

He paused for a moment, “Hera, that is my actual singing voice.”

Her eyes went wide as she tried to hold back laughter.

“Guess I’m just a terrible singer,” he said sarcastically, but unable to hold back his laughter.

“I guess you are,” Hera laughed.

Thank you so much for reading<3xoxo

[dragon-kazansky]

Dangerous | Helmut Zemo

AU! Race car driver Zemo 😎

Gender neutral reader

Collage by @realremyd

[Masterlist]

[Previous chapter] - [Next chapter]

Part 4

Zemo stared at his phone which he had sat on his desk. His car has been fixed up and he was about to go test run it, but his mind wasn't focused on the car. All he could think about was you.

Sam pokes his head into the office.

"Ready for the test run?"

Zemo looks up, acting as if his mind hasn't been elsewhere, and nodded. He glances at his phone once more before leaving with Sam.

You hadn't contacted him and he was missing you. He had no idea it would be this bad. It had been a couple of days since you had left and he was wishing time had paused that day, anything to spend a few extra minutes with you.

He looks at his car. He needed to put his racing mind on. He grabs his helmet, and gears up. Once he's in the car, he is in racer mode.

When you stepped off the train, your friend was waiting eagerly. She squealed as she ran over to you and pulled you into a hug. You chuckled as she nearly caused you to fall over.

"I've missed you!"

"I was only gone a couple of days," you chuckle.

"I know, but still. Something super amazing has happened and I'm about to lose my mind!"

"What is it?"

You both begin to leave the station, you eager to hear what is so exciting.

"Remember Tony Stark?"

Of course you did. You had literally seen him that weekend, racing.

"Yes."

"Well-"

As you exit the station, you come to a stop. Right in front of you is a limousine. Sleek, black, and expensive looking.

You look at your friend in shock.

"Explain."

Tony Stark climbs out of the limo before she can. You stare in shock. What was he even doing here? Shouldn't he be off training for the next race? Why was he here?

Your friend skips over to him and he places an arm around her.

"What is happening?"

Your friend smiles away, leaning against the billionaire beside her. Maybe you were imagining this. Tony Stark could not be here.

"Y/N, this is my boyfriend."

You are so sure your brain malfunctioned right there. You drop your bag and try to figure if you actually heard that.

You friend laughs as she grabs your bag and puts it into the limo.

"For real?" You ask, looking at Stark.

"For real." He grins.

"Come on, we'll take you home," your friend urges you into the limo. You cannot believe this is happening.

Once you're all in, your friend gives the driver your address and you all set off. You can only stare as she practically drapes herself over his lap.

You feel so confused.

The car was filled only with silence for the reminder of the ride. It was awkward and suffocating, but there was nothing you could say.

When the limo stopped outside of your apartment, you climbed out. Your friend got out too. You pulled her off to the side.

"How? When? How long has this been a thing?" You ask, rapidly firing out your questions.

"He asked me out. That night a couple weeks ago. At the party. The one you didn't come to."

"And you're only mentioning this now?"

"He asked me to wait, so I did. Then a couple days ago, he called me and said he was ready for to tell people."

"A couple of days ago? Friday?"

"Yeah."

You glance back at the car. Friday was race day. Was that a coincidence?

"I'm your friend, why didn't you tell me?"

"I promised I wouldn't until he said I could. I really like him Y/N."

"Do you? Are you in love with him because he's amazing and loves you? Or because he's your favourite pro racer and billionaire?" You narrow you gaze at her.

Her jaw is clenched, eyes hazy with tears.

"That's not fair."

"It's very fair. I don't think you've thought this through."

She let's her tears fall, drops your bag at your feet, pushes you back, and then climbs into the car. You watch the limo drive off before you pick up your bag and go inside your home.

Something didn't sit right with you.

You throw your bag on your bed, deciding to unpack later, and slump down on your sofa. Your mind flickered to Zemo.

You hadn't contacted him. You could have done so on the train. You grab your phone and send him a message.

You: Hey :) I hope I didn't keep you waiting.

You put the phone down and wait. He was probably busy, but you would wait. Closing your eyes, you could almost imagine being back in his car, speeding down the road like crazy. You missed that feeling.

Life was too slow now.

You yearned to be a part of Zemo's lifestyle. You wanted to be beside him, cheering his name, watching as he wins against Stark.

Speaking of, you would have to make arrangements. You needed to check your work schedule and make sure you had that weekend off.

You didn't want to miss a race.

You feel asleep with those thoughts. The wind in your hair, laughter filling the car, Zemo looking over at you with a smile. He was right there in your dreams.

Zemo had done several laps up and down the runway. He would take it down to the track tomorrow to test it out proper, but for now it was in great condition.

The moment he changed out of his gear, he went to collect his things from the office. Picking up his phone, his heart leaped with joy when he saw the text.

You: Hey :) I hope I didn't keep you waiting.

He smiled at his phone and immediately saved your number.

Y/N❤

It felt right to put you in his phone like that. He mentally scolded himself for getting carried away, but he didn't change it. He left it like that and replied.

Zemo: You did, but I'll forgive you. You can make it up to me when I see you next.

He smiled as he tucked his phone away and prepared to head home. On the drive home, his mind turned to you again. There was a silly grin on his face. He would take this third race as a sign. If you showed up, he would take you for that drink, and maybe something would happen. He was not ready to let you go just yet.

A thought crossed his mind.

What if he visited you before the race? He would surely be able to get you to give up your address to him. You would with the drive up. Maybe next could take a peek into your life.

Would you like that?

Never before had he questioned himself so much. When it came to you, there was doubt in his mind. It's not as if you were his anyway. Friend? Yes, quite possibly. Nothing more.

Yet, he yearned for it.

Would you enter his world if invited you? Perhaps he would keep that question up his sleeve until the time seemed right.

It wasn't until he was at home that he got a reply. You must have been busy.

You: That's fair. Assuming I make it, of course.

He smiled at your response.

Zemo: I'll be disappointed if you don't come. I may need your luck again.

You: Yes, because that went so well last time.

Zemo: My losing was no your fault. I blame Stark.

There was several minutes of silence before your next response.

You: How is the car?

Zemo: In working order. I'm going to tinker with it some more. I won't stop until it's up to standard.

You: You must be very busy then.

Zemo: Not too busy that I can't talk to you.

It was so easy to be all bold when you were communicating by text.

You: Cute, but I'm not falling for that ;)

Two could play that game, it seemed.

Zemo: May I ask you something?

You: Of course

Zemo: Where do you work?

You: Why? I can tell you now, it's no where as cool as your job.

Zemo: I want to know more about you.

There was another pause before your response. This one was a little longer than other and Zemo wondered if he had crossed a line.

Then you replied.

You: At cafe, it's called The Redwing. Nice enough place, but not as exciting as your job.

The Redwing? He had heard that name before. Sam came to mind as he thought about it. Zemo smiled.

Zemo: Sounds interesting to me.

You: If you say so. No fast cars here though, just people wanting coffee.

Zemo: I want to hear more, but perhaps some other time. I should eat before I fall asleep on my couch. See you soon?

A couple minutes go by, and then:

You: Maybe ;)

He smiled a smug grin as he put his phone down. He would see you soon, you just didn't know how soon.

Seemed like Zemo had a call to make.

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[wmuquinnfabray]

Everything is cold, so very cold. Quinn had often been referred to as an Ice Queen. A title that some may find rude, Quinn though had often leaned into the role with a sense of pride. She saw it as someone who was untouchable. And for so long she had needed to be untouchable. Yet as the darkness slowly consumes her she no longer yearns for the cold. No longer a protective shield this chill is suffocating. Her lungs struggle with each breathe, and vision dark as her body seems to be unable to focus on anything but the pain. As the intensity is starting to become too much to handle she feels something. It's a hand, though it's as if she's being touched through a thick blanket. As though the feeling is muted or numbed. Then she hears a voice, though similar to the hand it's as if the voice is speaking to her from another room. She strains to listen, to try and focus on what's being said.

Then just as quickly as it had arrived it was over. Her heart was still pounding, still beating so strongly she swore it would jump out of her chest. Yet as Noah continued to comfort her she could feel it start to slow. The calming sensation of his hand against hers helping to anchor her here in the present rather than in those dark thoughts. Blinking away the tears that had been building up in her eyes she tries refocusing. Finally through the haze she sees him, his face filled with concern and it nearly breaks her again. She never wants to see Noah hurt, to see him upset had always been a fear of hers. A fear she may just make into a reality herself if she goes through with what she knows she needs to do. "Sorry... I... I think I had a panic attack..." Taking slow deep breathes she's working hard to keep herself calm. "Noah I need... I need to tell you something, but I'm afraid." Shifting in her seat nervously, her body begging her to move closer to him but too afraid of what might happen next. "I'm so afraid Noah. It's something I've wanted to tell you for a long time, but I never could. I just don't wanna lose you again, but if I tell you this... If I tell you what happened I'm not sure you'll ever look at me the same way." Her body is trembling as she searches for her voice, all the while her fathers words continue to whisper in the back of her mind. Filthy. Worthless. Useless. Pushing back the tears is slowly becoming a losing battle as Quinn tries to be strong. "It's about why I stopped talking to you. Why I disappeared that year."

He let out a huff of amusement, shaking his head. "Yeah, I don't know 'bout all that spilling secrets crap, but she sounds cool. And a tour would be great." He faced foward again, taking a bite of his pizza. His fingers drummed against her ankle subconsciously, and Puck couldn't help but marvel at how crazy this all was. He'd just started to accept the fact that he might never see her again, and now here she was, perched on his couch with a smile that could put the sun out of business. "Right. Like I could ever get sick of you." Rolling his eyes light-heartedly, he ran his hand up and down her lower leg. "I plan on making up for lost time. You're not gonna be able to get rid of me. And you're probably gonna regret telling me to just say the word, y'know. I might start taking advantage of that."

At his question, Puck felt the energy start the shift. The playfulness drained from the conversation. He eyed Quinn intensely, confused and trying to catch any nuance in her expression that might clue him in on what she was thinking. It was when he noticed her blue eyes darken that a pit in his stomach started to form, knowing that familiar look. He scooted over on the couch, sprawling his arm across the back of it to grip her shoulder. Puck was very well aware that he wasn't the best person to go to for emotional comfort. He'd always felt quite out of place around emotional people, and he could never seem to find the right words. But with her, he'd always tried his hardest to help in some way. "Hey," he said simply, voice softening and hand starting to massage her shoulder. "What's going on? Did I say something wrong?" When he noticed her state seem to worsen, he tried his best not to show his rapidly growing concern. The last thing he needed was to freak her out even more. His hand left her shoulder, moving to push a blonde strand of hair behind her ear. He cupped her jaw delicately, as if he was scared he'd break her. Hell, a part of him was. With his other hand, he flipped hers over to the palm, rubbing smoothing circles around it with his thumb. "I'm right here, Q. You're alright. Just breathe." Puck stayed silent for a moment, only hoping his words brought even the slightest comfort to her as he continued to rub her hand and stroke her cheek. Still confused, and wildly concerned, he dared to speak again. "Quinn, what happened? Did something even happen? Look, I know we haven't been like...this in a while, but you can talk to me. Anytime, about anything. No judgment. You know that."

[astro-rain]

delicate; b.barnes

chapter fourteen - “pinky promise”

delicate masterlist

word count: 2.1k

synopsis: bucky and the reader reconvene after the events of the previous night, figuring out what they need to do from there. pinky promises are endearing but they don’t prevent the effects of distressed regret & emotional frustration.

pairings: bucky barnes x fem!reader

She awoke with wet regret staining her cheeks. She remembered falling asleep with shame, liquid guilt seeping out of her eyes. Slowly and silently weeping herself to sleep while drunk. What a colossal fucking mistake she made. She felt terrible, and she could only imagine how Bucky felt. She needed to apologize. Immediately.

She found that her shoes were still on when she got out of bed.

"Oh, Christ," she huffed at her messiness.

Regardless, she grabbed a jacket for protection from the chilly Wakandan morning air before rushing to the door, determined to find Bucky as soon as possible and apologize profusely for the previous night.

She opened the door but before she could dash out, she smacked directly into what felt like hard wood. Wait, no. The "hard wood" was a chest, and that chest belonged to a person... it was Bucky. Damn it.

"Sorry!" the two exclaimed simultaneously.

They both backed up.

"Y/N..."

"Bucky."

"Can we talk?"

"Yes. Please."

They awkwardly made their way into the room, eventually sitting side by side on the end of her bed. The air was quiet and void of their usual content and lighthearted atmosphere. Both of them sat staring straight forward.

"Bucky, I... I am so sorry about last night. I know being drunk isn't an excuse for being unprofessional, but I really have no other explanation as to why I'd ever do something so inappropriate. I feel awful and I can't imagine how uncomfortable I've made you. I will completely understand if you don't want to work with me anymore. I can talk to Shuri or T'Challa and we can find someone else to take my place if—"

"Woah," he turned to her, slightly alarmed. "Slow down, slow down. Who said anything about replacing you?"

"Well, I just thought after...last night, you'd rather have someone else work with you. It probably wouldn't be wise to continue treatment with me after certain... professional boundaries have been damaged."

"I'm not working with anyone else."

She looked at him bewildered, but he looked dead serious.

Y/N shook her head. "I—"

"Look, I'm not a therapist and I don't know the criteria of your 'professional boundaries'... But you were drunk. It happens. I don't think any less of you because you had a little too much. Believe me, I've been there."

"I know, but it's not necessarily the drinking that was the problem. It was... my actions."

"Right. And I don't think leaning a couple inches is really grounds for leaving Wakanda."

It was more than just "leaning a couple inches," and she knew that. She was humiliated by her drunken errors, but it was seductively dizzying to be that close to him. In the moment, she relished in every second, every atom of hers that was touching him. However, it was the afterthought that was the problem, the realization of what she had done and how wrong it was.

"Bucky..."

"I'm not working with anyone else."

"I'm not the only good therapist, you know."

"But you're my therapist. I don't want a new one."

"And I don't want to disrupt your progress, but there's no way I can keep treating you after last night."

"Why not? What's gonna happen if you do? Nothing."

"It's not that simple."

"Nobody was here. No one knows but us. There's no way you can get into trouble."

"It's not entirely about getting in trouble. It's about the nature of our relationship and how that change can impact how effectively and ethically I can treat you."

He was quiet for a minute, thinking.

He shook his head, looking down at his feet. "We can work something out..."

"I don't think so, Buck..."

"So you're just gonna leave then?"

"I think that's what needs to happen."

He turned his head to her, making deliberate eye contact.

"Y/N, please."

"All I wanna do is do right by you, and I can't do that after I've compromised our relationship."

"But you didn't compromise—"

"Bucky," she exasperated, "Can you please try to understand?"

"Can you please try not to be so hasty about things? Our relationship is fine. You don't need to leave."

Stubborn. He was being stubborn. But, all she could see was strong will and passion. That was the problem. All his faults morphed into aptitudes when they filtered through her perception.

"I really care about you, Buck. I just want you to have access to the help you need, and as much as I hate to say it, I don't know if I can be that help anymore."

"Can't we just try?"

"Try what?"

"Just... hear me out. We can continue the sessions as if nothing happened, and if everything is fine, then great, but if not, then you can go."

Is that what it would take for him to be okay with her leaving? Is that what it would take to make her departure less of a complete upheaval? There was no way this would work, she thought. But what were the lengths to which she would go to make the transition smoother? Was she willing to make sacrifices to help ease his hardships? She reflected for a minute.

For him, she would. For him, she considered, she'd do most anything.

"Okay," she said after brief contemplation. "We can try. But you have to keep in mind, the entire time, that I still might have to leave in the end."

He smiled, sincerity almost suffocating her. "Thank you."

"Promise me you won't be disappointed if I end up having to leave."

"You want a pinky, blood oath, or spit shake?" he asked, jokingly.

"Bucky," Y/N deadpanned.

"Well, it's not like we need to promise, because you won't have to leave... 'cause everything will be fine."

God, she hoped so.

"Promise me anyway. Just in case."

"Fine. I promise. You have my word."

She held out her hand to him, pinky finger raised high.

"Make it official."

"You know I was kidding?" he asked.

"I know. But you brought it up, so now you're payin' the price," she smiled, feeling herself momentarily slipping back into their dynamic. "Officially promise me with your pinky, James."

In acquiescence, he lifted his hand up to hers, pinky extended, and wrapped their fingers together. As it turned out, her hand had desires of its own and begged for additional contact. It yearned to smooth over the skin of Bucky's hand and press their palms together. Her hand wanted to intertwine the rest of their fingers and hold on ever so tightly. It wanted to hold on and never leave Wakanda, never leave his side.

As it also turned out, the hand is not the mind. These were surely not Y/N thoughts. Definitely not... Desires were kept repressed and no actions were taken. Sorry hand.

Their fingers stayed connected for just a few brief seconds of silence. Not nearly long enough for it to be awkward or for them to get second thoughts about the integrity of their agreement. Their fingers disconnected.

"So..." Bucky started, "are things gonna be weird now? With us?"

"They don't have to be, but I guess it depends."

"On what?"

"I don't know. Whether you're upset with me over what happened - which you have every right to be."

"Upset with you? No! Not at all. It seems like you're more upset than I ever was."

"I'm only upset because of what I did!"

"Well, I'm only upset because you're upset, so... stop being upset."

"I-..." she sighed. "Okay. I'm sorry."

"I'm sorry too. Are we good?"

"You don't have anything to be sorry for..."

"Just say we're good."

She let out a nervous laugh.

"Fine, we're good. I'm just surprised at how you're so cool with this."

"Well, friends bounce back quick, right?"

Her demeanor changed. The mood sunk.

"Bucky..."

"No, no. Don't sit there and tell me that now we aren't friends. You just pinky swore with me," he said with a meek smile, attempting to lift her mood back up. "C'mon, that counts for something."

She looked down at her hands, suddenly missing the skin-to-skin contact. "I just think it might be better to be more professional and less... personal."

"Better for who exactly? 'Cause I know it wouldn't be for me."

She turned her head to look at him, face earnest and contrite. He only looked confused and a little mentally disheveled.

"I want to make this new... plan thing work. If you don't want me to have to leave, we have to reinstate some sort of boundaries, Buck."

"So boundaries means throwing away being friends?"

"I'm not throwing it away. I want to make sure we can be successful, and to be successful we have to be a little more..." she took a breath in, hating how much she kept bringing up this word, "professional. We gotta have more good days than bad, you know?"

A few beats of silence passed them by. Bucky's expression softened to a dangerous level of sincerity.

"I think you are my good days..."

Y/N tore her gaze away. She couldn't do this. She wished he wouldn't say such gentle things; she was trying so hard. The tension in her heart began to frustrate her. And it was because of him. She wished her emotions weren't always so escalated in his proximity.

"How long were you outside for?" she changed the subject.

"All night."

"What?!"

"Just kidding. Only for a couple minutes. Why are you changing the subject?"

"I'm not."

"You really are. And you're uneasy."

Trying to deny feelings was harder when someone else called them out.

"Stop trying to analyze me."

"M'not analyzing. I'm just reading you."

Reading her?

"Reading me?"

"Yeah. You were looking at me, but now you turned away. You're bouncing your leg but otherwise you're completely still, tense, like you are when you're nervous. You're also turned away from me... kinda like you don't wanna be near me."

Yeah, because her heart felt like it was going to burst.

She stood up, walking away from him and his infuriating correctness. How dare he know her like that? Anger bubbled in her stomach. She faced him, arms crossed over her chest, as if shielding herself from his prying efforts to understand her personality. How dare he decipher her.

"Really?" she huffed, amped up nervousness morphing into irritation. "You barely slept last night, and it's not just noticeable because of the bags under your eyes. You do this thing when you're tired - you blink really slowly and then rub your eyes. It's subtle. How's that for reading? Oh, and you're more uncomfortable about having one arm than you let on. When you sit next to me, you always make sure to sit so that your arm is on my side. In fact, you're so bad at tolerating uncomfortable that you refuse to even think about getting a new therapist - even though it's the right thing to do - because you don't want to deal with the change."

She took a breath after expelling her vexation. Bucky stared at her with wide eyes, never before hearing her angry, much less at him.

"That's not why..." he all but whispered.

"You know I can tell when you're lying, right?"

"Apparently not," he rolled his eyes. "And I thought we made a deal."

"I think you should leave."

He looked up at her. "Y/N.."

She turned away from him, deciding she couldn't handle looking him in the eyes.

Glancing at the door, she muttered, "I'll see you at our next session."

"But— I thought..."

"A deal's a deal. I'll see you, Bucky."

The room was eerily silent until Bucky decided to move. She could feel his eyes on her, searching for something, anything out of her. Perhaps she was hasty, but there was no room for second thoughts, second emotions. She completely steeled herself. Feeling around him was just... a lot. A lot to deal with. Maybe too much.

"Okay," he said, voice quiet. "I'll see you... I guess."

With that, he left. He left her in an empty room with empty feelings and an empty hand. She looked down at that hand, the very same one that wrapped its finger around his in the lighthearted simplicity of a juvenile gesture. Joy with Bucky was like that - simple. Being happy was effortless with him. Yet, it was so troublesome to be displeased with him. She could sense another distressed night sleep coming her way.

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