#It is a favour she owes him out of apology.

[poorly-drawn-mdzs]

This was home.

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[nariism]

across the violet sky — lyney

"you look beautiful in the moonlight."

synopsis. all that fretting was over nothing, because he's looking at you now and the only thing he can think of saying is...

wc. ~1.5k

— for @rintosei smooch 🫶🫶 | event masterlist ✉️

"You did what?"

Lyney flinches at his twin's harsh tone, the words seething out through her grit teeth. He pauses in his rummaging, deflating with his hands hovering over the open box.

You had originally agreed on helping them set up for their next show, even going so far as to personally arrange for all the props to be transported to the Opera Epiclese. But you're nowhere to be found now, leaving the magician sweating under the cold gaze of his dear sister.

"Lyney—" She sighs, fingers pinching at the bridge of her nose. And he knows he's messed up big time to elicit such a powerful emotion from her. "How could you do that? Y/N has been nothing but amazing in helping us through all of this."

It was true that you had been supportive to a fault ever since you first stumbled into a performance way back when. Since then, you'd always looked at the pair with stars in your eyes, perhaps hoping that one day your beloved would pull you onto the stage despite his repeated worries about props misfiring or sabotage.

He had never worried about that sort of thing until he was framed. He'd be damned if you were to be injured during one of his shows.

So he banished you to the audience, swore to himself that he would never endanger you by pulling you into the spotlight of the stage. And he upheld that promise to himself, until you finally broke him down with such honeyed smiles and even sweeter words.

Because he was weak when it came to those he loved, he caved in just to see the joy shining in your eyes. He didn't have time to regret his decision—not when you were already leaping into his arms with a chanting prayer of thanks on your tongue.

And now...

"I know, I know..." he huffs in frustration, resuming in busying his hands with the contents of the box. "But what was I supposed to do? I owed Father's friends a huge favour and this—"

"Are you really choosing Father's approval over your relationship?"

He stops again, eyes cast solely on the props in his hands. One of the associates of the House demanded that his child be put into the show as an assistant. You were visibly hurt when he had informed you of the last minute change, and hadn't heard from you since.

While he would have normally chased after you in such a moment, he was too preoccupied with preparing everything for the changes made to the performance to worry about where you'd gone or the extent of how upset you were.

"What would you have me do?"

Lynette saunters over to her brother's side, crouching down beside him. Her hand gently guides his own down to place the props back into their spots.

"Making sure they're okay would be a good place to start."

The magician makes a face, lip jutted out in a half-pout as he considers it. Yes, he would be distracted if you were on his mind this way after all. It would be better to clear the air before the show started. His sister was always the more level-headed of the two of them—the soft yet stern voice of reason when he was being careless.

"You're right," he concedes. Lynette was always right.

He doesn't find you at your home.

After knocking at the front door until his knuckles hurt, he deems that you must not be here. Clutching the bouquet of Rainbow Roses carefully to his chest, he makes his way to his next destination: the Fountain of Lucine.

With nearly everyone tucking away for the night, there's hardly a peep in the plaza. He approaches slowly, watching your figure come into focus.

Ah, of course you'd be here. You always came here when you needed to think.

There were a thousand things he wanted to tell you. He'd practiced on the way here: how to apologize, how to grovel for forgiveness even though you were so kind that he was sure you'd accept it in a heartbeat.

Still, you were the love of his life. He seldom expressed his vulnerability to you, but he truly did feel horrible for bailing you out of the show last minute—especially when you seemed so excited to finally be a part of it.

"Sweetest," he calls you. You don't respond, instead opting to quietly swish your bare feet around in the shallows of the fountain. His heart plummets at your lack of interest, so he takes a cautious step forward. "It's late. You'll catch a cold sitting out here."

Again, you're silent. He swallows, trying to think of a way to get you to even look his way.

Lyney has always been good with words—talented at misdirection and deceit. But he has no reason to be like that with you, to be dishonest or closed off or misleading. It leaves him tripping over his own tongue.

He loves you with all his heart, yet he doesn't even know how to talk to you without making a fool of himself.

His whole life has been about buttering up an audience, making a spectacle of words and dance and magic. But you're real. How does he handle that?

Slowly, he sheds his coat before draping it over your shoulders. He sits beside you facing away from the running water, the paper holding his beautiful bouquet together rustling with each movement.

The noise makes you look his way, eyes curious as ever. It was what he adored so much about you.

For a second, he sees the undeniable softening of your expression—a small but unmistakable smile gracing your face before it vanishes again.

"You'll catch a cold," you scold.

"That's okay."

Your gaze flickers between his eyes and his lips. He can feel the heavy tension melting away with every shameless glance up and down, smugness firing through his veins when he realizes you've missed him despite your avoidance.

"I'm sorry I made such a big deal about all this," you whisper, tearing your attention back to the way the water ripples with each movement.

Lyney reaches over quickly, hand swiftly turning you to look at him again by the cheek. "Don't apologize," he argues. "I was being stupid."

You nod, mouth opening then closing as you wait for him to continue.

He doesn't. He can't.

The whole walk here he had planned out exactly what he wanted to say, all the ways he wanted to tell you that he only gets so protective because his work can be dangerous. There were a million ways he planned to apologize, a dozen scenarios where he imagined you would walk out of his life for being so careless with your feelings.

But all that fretting was over nothing, because he's looking at you now and the only thing he can think of saying is...

"You look so beautiful in the moonlight."

You blink at him in surprise, instinctively burying your face into the warmth of his palm as you lean forward. There's a knowing in the way you look at him, as if able to read the words in his heart that he can't seem to get out.

"You're not trying to butter me up, are you?" You ask teasingly, an attempt to relieve his racing mind.

"Just being honest," he laughs. Another silence fills the air before he continues, "I'm really sorry. Next time, I promise to drag you onto the stage with me."

You stifle a giggle, pulling away to watch your feet prod at the surface of the water. "It's alright. I know I'm not exactly cut out to be a star."

The magician shuffles closer to you until your shoulders are bumping, then he places the bouquet of Rainbow Roses in your lap.

"You are a star," he mumbles. "The brightest star in the sky."

Dancing in the moonlight, bathing in it so beautifully. Lynette would hurl at him admitting something so corny, though.

"Really?" You ask with a laugh in your breath.

"Really really."

You hum softly, hand settling over his. Your bodies are turned opposite ways but he can imagine the smile spreading across your face, the warmth of it. You were always poor at hiding when he flustered you.

The soft sound of streaming water fills the comfortable silence. It's a stark contrast to the applause he's grown so accustomed to but he would choose this a million times over.

Your hand squeezes his. He realizes, then—you're a star no matter which spotlight you're under, whether it be under the weight of a thousand eyes or just for him under the quiet moon.

("Stop gagging! It wasn't that cheesy!"

"A star?" Lynette pales further, placing her head into her hands. "A... A star?"

"Oh, quit with the dramatics already!"

"I have a lovesick idiot for a brother... I'm going to throw up."

"Lynette!")

© ALABOADOA 2023 — please do not translate or post my works to other platforms.

[dixons-sunshine]

Someone To Love | Young!Daryl Dixon x Young!Fem!Reader

Summary: Daryl treasured his friendship with you. You were everything to him, someone he could go to when he needed you. On his sixteenth birthday, you did something for him that made him realize that his love for you ran much deeper than he had initially thought.

Genre: Fluff.

Era: Pre apocalypse.

Part of the Shopping Spree, Hangout Dreams AU.

Warnings: Swearing.

Word count: 1.8k.

A/n: I'm really sleep deprived, so this potentially sucks really bad. It's also not exactly like what was requested, but I went with my gut and this was born. However, I hope you like this! (Requested by @ddamm. I'm not gonna be home this weekend and won't be able to write something for your birthday, so I wrote this for you as an early birthday present!)

➳༻❀✿❀༺➳

“Where are ya takin' me?”

“I can't tell you that. It's a surprise, Daryl.”

“Y'know I hate surprises.”

“This one you'll like, I promise. Now shut up and just follow me.”

Daryl rolled his eyes at you, a small, affectionate smile annoyingly tugging at the corners of his lips. He walked with his hands tucked into his jean pockets, carefully stepping over any logs and big rocks in his path. You were walking slightly ahead of him, a skip in your step as you lead him somewhere—to his supposed surprise or his death, he wasn't sure.

“Ya sure ya didn't jus' bring me out here to kill me?” Daryl questioned playfully, chuckling at the glare you threw his way over your shoulder. “Jus' askin', sunshine. No need to get mad. S'a valid question. Most'a those murder books ya read start in the woods, so m'jus' curious if yer takin' a page outta those characters' books.”

You looked at him over your shoulder. “Believe me, if I wanted to kill you, I wouldn't do it in the most common, boring way. I'm more creative than that.”

Daryl raised his eyebrows at you. “Should I be scared?”

“No, of course not!” you laughed and shook your head, reaching over to grab his wrist. You tugged him along behind you, taking off into a steady run.

Daryl stumbled over his feet for a moment before laughing, quickening his pace to keep up with you. “Jeez, girl! Ya dun' have to rip my damn arm off.”

You giggled. “Sorry, I was excited,” you apologized, stopping in your tracks. You turned to Daryl when he stopped next to you, releasing your grip on his arm. “We're here. Happy birthday, Dar.”

Daryl looked ahead and was surprised to be met with a small, intimate setting—a picnic basket resting on top of a blanket. You had really gone above and beyond, Daryl thought I'm surprise, trying to ignore the odd feeling of warmth that spread through his body when he looked back at you and saw an excited smile on your face.

“You said no parties, so I thought we could have a little picnic instead, just the two of us,” you explained, taking Daryl's hand in yours and leading him over to the blanket. You motioned for him to sit down, following suite and getting comfortable on the blanket you had swiped from your mom's closet.

Daryl eyed everything around him curiously. The two of you were in a part of the forest he wasn't familiar with. It was rather surprising, considering he spent most of his time either at your trailer or in the forest, so seeing that you were able to locate a spot he didn't know was rather impressive.

The movement of your hand towards the picnic basket instantly peaked his interest. He watched as you pulled out an old portable CD player that your mom had gotten you a year prior, settling it onto the blanket and fiddling with a few buttons before pressing the play button.

Daryl's eyes widened when the melody to Ozzy Osbourne's “Crazy Train” flooded the relatively quiet air. His eyes met yours and he let out a shocked noise. “Where'd ya get an Ozzy CD?”

You shrugged nonchalantly, leaning back on the palms of your hands. “Mr Jones owed my mom a favour. She finally called it in and borrowed a bunch of music for us for this.”

“Ya got other artists?”

“Yeah,” you nodded. “Guns 'n Roses, Dio, Led Zeppelin, Metallica, Queen—”

“Ya got Queen?” Daryl questioned in amusement. “Ya know I dun' listen to 'em.”

“And you know that I don't believe that,” you countered, sending him a teasing smirk. “I've seen you quietly sing along when I play Queen in my room. There's no hiding the truth from me, Daryl.”

“Nah, yer only seein' things. Gotta get yer eyes checked out or somethin',” Daryl replied defensively, crossing his arms over his chest in mock annoyance.

You rolled your eyes and sat upright, reaching into the picnic basket to grab a sandwich to hand to Daryl. “Whatever you say, birthday boy.”

Daryl accepted the sandwich and took a bite from it, humming in approval at the taste. “Taste's real fuckin' good. Thanks.”

“Only the best on your birthday,” you mused, reaching into the basket to grab your own sandwich. “You deserve it. And as long as you have me around, we'll always celebrate it.”

Daryl gave you a small smile, taking another bite from his sandwich to avoid saying something that could potentially ruin the moment. As he looked at you, he couldn't help but admire you. From the beautiful colour of your eyes to the way your lips curved when you smiled, to the outfit you were wearing that day that hugged you in all the right ways. Everything about you in that particular moment was perfect, and Daryl found himself very confused at the feeling that entered his body. There was a strange knotting in his stomach when you met his eyes, and he froze at the weird sensation.

Thankfully, you started talking about some band you had discovered that snapped him from his thoughts, and Daryl pushed the strange feelings down. He wouldn't ruin a perfect moment with his best friend because of some stupid sickness he was getting. He would worry about his health later. For now, he would appreciate your company on a day that he rarely celebrated anymore.

➳༻❀✿❀༺➳

“Stay right here. I'll be right back.”

Daryl looked up at you in confusion when you got up from the blanket, the Lynard Skynyrd song that was playing in the background forgotten for the time being. “Wha' do ya mean? Where are ya goin'?”

“Just wait here. I need to go grab something I put here earlier,” you explained, turning on your heel and walking off.

“Ya sure ya ain't jus' gon' get yer gun to shoot me? I knew ya were plannin' on killin' me.”

“Very funny, Dixon.”

Daryl chuckled and shook his head, watching your retreating figure in wonder. He leaned back on the palms of his hands, humming along to the song playing. He looked around at the wildlife that looked even more beautiful in the light of the setting sun, content for the first time in a while. The day had been uneventful; he had spent most of the morning and early afternoon in your trailer watching movies while you were busy setting up the surprise for him, then he had a calm picnic with you, swapping jokes and stories, and after that, he would go back to your trailer for the night.

Daryl felt calm, and it was all because of you. All because you refused to let him spend yet another birthday on his own, cooped away in his room.

The rustling of the leaves alerted him to your presence. He looked up at you, instantly noticing the box in your hands.

“Wha's tha'?”

You sat back down on the blanket and extended the box to him, giggling when Daryl only eyed the box in suspicion instead of taking it. “Daryl, it's just a box. It can't hurt you.”

“Las' time someone handed me a wrapped box, I found a bunch'a spiders inside tha' crawled all over me,” Daryl told you, still refusing to take the box.

You shook your head and laughed lightly. “Let me guess, Merle?” When Daryl simply nodded, you continued. “I promise there aren't any bad surprises in here. Only a good one, I hope.”

Daryl hesitantly took the object from you and lowered it onto his lap, slowly starting to peel the wrapping paper away. Once the simple brown box underneath was revealed, he looked up to you, but was only met with an encouraging smile. He opened the box at a snail's pace, but once the object inside was revealed through the small opening, Daryl practically ripped the rest of the box open.

Daryl carefully picked up the object, inspecting it carefully as his eyes widened in surprise. He looked over at you again, a shocked smile on his face. “A Walkman?”

“Yeah,” you nodded, a smile on your face at his obvious excitement that your best friend failed to hide. “I know you've wanted one for a while now, so I spared up some money to buy one for you. It's not new because I didn't have seventy bucks to buy a brand new one, but it works and it's not all banged up. I made you a tape as well. It's already in there.”

Daryl looked surprised. Unwillingly, a few tears started to well up in his eyes, but he quickly wiped them away. There was no need for tears in a moment like that. He sent you a small, unsure smile, feeling that same strange feeling from earlier creeping up on him again.

“Thank you,” Daryl whispered, moving the Walkman around in his hands. “This is the best birthday I've ever had. S'jus'... Ya gave me somethin' I've been wantin' fer so long, even though ya didn't have to. Yer amazin'.”

Not realizing the true, deeper meaning behind his words, you leaned forward and hugged Daryl tightly, pressing a soft kiss to his cheek. “Anything for you, Dar. You know that.”

Daryl hugged you back tightly, lowering his head to rest on your shoulder. Daryl's feelings hit him with the force of a hundred freight trains—he was falling for you. He was falling for his best friend, and he didn't even realize it until that moment. The only reason he realized it was because of the gift you gave him. And it wasn't the picnic or the snacks or even the Walkman. No, it was something much deeper than that, something much more valuable to Daryl than anything else in the world.

You gave him someone he could trust. You gave him someone he could go to with his problems, someone who never judged him or belittled him for feeling emotional. You gave him someone he could love without the fear of being disappointed, someone he knew would be there for him.

You gave him you, and that was more than enough for him.

©dixons-sunshine 2024. I do not give permission for my works to be copied, modified, adapted or translated to any other site or platform without evidence of my given consent.

[gummydummy19]

Month seven (November): shower me with love

Summary: You do your friend a favour and drag Sy with you to go house-sitting (more like mansion-sitting, but whatevs)

A/N: Oh my god I'm excited for this one... I know this literally took me a million years (apologies AGAIN). I have missed these two like crazy, so without further ago, get cozy and happy reading <3

Word Count: 4k+

(this is part seven of my series: A year in apartment 6B)

The days had been shortening, slowly but surely getting gloomier. Most people hated it. The cold and the darkness. Wet pavement, foggy windows, rosy cheeks, and leaky noses.

You found it charming. It made you appreciate the coziness of your home even more. the home you'd been living in for almost seven months now.

While the rain tapped against the floor-to-ceiling windows of your office, you found yourself thinking of that very home. You couldn't wait to finish work and rush back to your apartment, curling up on your couch with yet another sappy romance novel.

"Can I ask you a favor?" your thoughts were interrupted by Elizabeth, your chaotic but very sweet work bestie. You met her during your first week at the office. She found you cursing yourself in the copy room trying to figure out how the printer worked you guys had stuck together ever since. It was nice to have someone to have lunch with and fill you in on office gossip.

"What now Liz?", you sighed jokingly.

She looked around to see if anyone was listening before whispering "Break room, now." and walking off. You quickly got up and followed her, wondering what this was about.

"Clark's assistant asked me to housesit for him while he's on his business trip next weekend."

Clark was our boss. Handsome guy, tall, rich, and always in a freshly pressed suit. He wasn't really your type, but according to Liz he always smelled delicious. Of course, she would know, she had been secretly seeing him for over a month now. It was all very exciting.

"Okay?..." you questioned, not really understanding what the problem was.

"It's the Paris trip..."

Right.

Office romance was very exciting indeed, but also very forbidden, and even though Clark was our boss, he wasn't the boss of the company.

Of course, he asked her to come to Paris with him. You knew it was hard for them to keep away from each other, it was truly adorable to see them try though. No one would have to know. It would be their perfect weekend away.

Except that now his assistant had asked Liz to housesit for him, just to feed his cats and water his plants, and she had no good reason to say no so she didn't. Which then brought her here, in the break room, begging you to cover for her.

'Why didn't you just say no?' you asked

'I panicked! I didn't want him to suspect anything so I just went along with it. Could you please do it for me? Please?'

You wanted to help her. You really did, but the thought of leaving Sy alone for an entire weekend when he still wasn't fully healed made your stomach twist

"Oh Liz...I don't...I mean...Sy is still not..."

"You can take him with you!" she quickly spat, "Think of it as a little weekend away together. Doesn't that sound fun?"

'We're not a couple, Liz!" you blushed

"Oh please you're basically married." she shushed, "Come on, you don't have to stay all weekend just check his mail, water his plants and feed his cats, that's all! Besides, his house is gorgeous, and it has an indoor pool! Didn't the doctor say swimming was good exercise?"

"I guess he did yeah..." you mumbled, "ugh, fine! But you owe me!"

"oh, you're the best!" she squealed, jumping up and down before giving you a bone-crushing hug.

"You better bring me back some ridiculously expensive gift" you joked as you tried to contain your own smile, secretly excited about your weekend with Sy.

_______________________________________________________

'So we have to spend the weekend in some rich snob's house because he wants to fuck his employee overseas?"

"Hey! She's my friend and they are in love!" you shot back

"Oh, I'm sure they are..." he mumbled, rolling his eyes, "I would be too if I got free trips to Paris"

"Don't be such a grump, Sy"

"What about Aika? We can't just leave her all weekend?"

"Your mom is picking her up this afternoon." you simply said

"My mo-...You spoke to my mother?"

"Yeah, she's been asking to see Aika for weeks! She sends her love by the way."

Sy silently thanked the lord for making this a regular phone call and not one of those Facetime situations because he wasn't in the mood to explain why his cheeks grew red at the thought of you being friendly with his mom.

"Right..." he grumbled.

"So you're in then? The doctor did say you needed exercise, Sy. You can't just stay cooped up in the apartment. It'll be fun!" you tried to convince him.

"Alright alright, fine, I'm in"

"Yay! Pack a weekend bag, I'll pick you up after work." you told him, "Oh, and don't forget your swim shorts!"

"My what?!" Sy asked, but you had already hung up the phone, leaving him in regret already

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

"Holy fucking shit"

Sy's deep voice boomed through the desolate entrance hallway of the Kent Residence.

"Normally I'd tell you to watch your mouth but...damn," you added, staring at the crystal chandelier hanging from the exceptionally high ceiling.

"Hey, check this out!" Sy called from the living room.

You were so wrapped up in your surroundings, that you hadn't even noticed he wasn't standing next to you anymore.

"May I please remind you that this is my boss's place? You can't just go around and touch every- HOLY FUCK THAT'S BIG"

You found Sy with a remote in his hand, standing in front of what was probably the biggest television you had ever seen in your entire life. I mean, it genuinely bordered on a home cinema. It was ginormous.

"You know Sugar, usually when I hear a woman say something like it it's not about a TV," he grinned, making you blush before you hit him with a pillow, hoping he wouldn't notice.

"You're an idiot," you claimed, trying not to laugh but miserably failing.

"You love it," he grinned again, making you roll your eyes.

"Whatever Syverson, I'm gonna go check out the rooms."

"Hold on, I'm coming with you before you snatch the best one."

Sy was hot on your heels as you rounded the corner. His massive chest colliding with your back when you came to a sudden stop.

“Holy. Shit.”

You stared in awe at what was the most gorgeous indoor pool you had ever seen in your entire life (well in all honesty, it was the only indoor pool you had ever seen in real life)

There were floor to ceiling windows and rows of luxurious pool chairs on each side.

“Damn, does this guy crap money?”

Sy’s rough baritone snapped you out of your astonishment, earning him yet another (playful) eye-roll

You and Sy snooped wandered around the mansion for good 20 minutes before you even got to the upstairs area. There was a long hallway leading up to beautiful French doors.

"That's probably the master bedroom, right?", you questioned, motioning towards the doors.

"Probably", he mumbled, "let's go check it out."

"No wait! We shouldn't...", you grabbed his arm, "It's not nice to snoop."

"Oh please, what have we been doing for the past half hour?", he chuckled, "Won't hurt to look, right?"

"Alright fine...just in and out, no unnecessary touching."

"Funny, that's exactly what my last hook-up said."

Sy whistled behind you as the bedroom was revealed.

"Sweet baby Jesus...." you mumbled, eyes wide as you took in the gorgeous interior.

Everything looked luxurious and expensive. Panel pair curtains matched the shades of the bedsheets and the accent wall. There were fresh flowers on what looked like a pure sandalwood dresser with golden details. Everything was perfect.

"I call dibs," Sy announced, making you snap your head at him.

"Like hell! I'm the one who got us here,"

"Correction, you are the one who forced us to come here, so it would only be fair if I got the master bedroom. As a reward for coming with you," he explained, crossing his arms.

"You're joking, right? What happened to 'Don't ya worry Sugah, I'm a real Southern gentleman!'" you imitated in a thick Southern accent.

"Hey, I do not sound like that!" he pointed his finger at you and you couldn't help but giggle.

"Settle down, cowboy. I'll check the other rooms." The truth is, yeah, that master bedroom was gorgeous, but you cared about Sy and he was still hurt, so if he wanted the master bedroom, you'd gladly let him have it.

You marched toward the closest room, ready to be stunned again. But when you tried the door, you couldn't get it open. You tried the handle again, rumbling the door a little.

"Locked?" Sy questioned.

"Maybe it's a home office, there might be private papers and stuff."

"Or a sex dungeon,"

"You are sick, Syverson. Really fucking sick."

He chuckled at that and you quickly turned around again, partly to try the next door, partly to hide the smile he had managed to put on your face.

"What the...it's locked again. Could you try that one?"

You and Sy tried every single door that could possibly be a bedroom, only to find them all locked. It was getting kinda ridiculous at this point, so you decided to text Liz.

"Sneaky bitch..." you mumbled as you stared at your phone screen.

"So?" Sy asked, "what did she say?"

"She uhm,...the key isn't here, he forgot."

"He forgot?" he frowned

"Apparently..." you looked around awkwardly.

Liz was so fucking dead when she got back from her stupid Paris trip.

“Guess we’re bunking together then, roomie” Sy grinned, but when he saw you awkwardly shuffling around and stare at your feet instead of grinning back at him, he nudged your shoulder “hey, I’m kidding, I can sleep on one of the pool chairs or something it’ll be fine”

“Sy, don’t be ridiculous I’m not letting you sleep on a pool chair”

“What? I’ve slept on worse, come to think of it, its kinda look our cots back on base, it’ll feel just like home”

“Base is home?” You said it without even thinking, the words tumbled over your lips before you could stop them and you couldn’t help but pair them with a slightly saddened expression.

“I didn’t mean it like that…”

“I mean I kinda get that, I can imagine it grows on you”, you felt like you were treading dangerous territory, but so was he. He knew you worked so hard to make your place a home, he truly didn’t mean to-

“Wanna go for a swim?” You interrupted his thought spiral

“I’d love to”

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

You dipped your toes in the water, finding it perfectly heated.

You had gotten changed first, covering yourself in your fluffy bathrobe before heading for the pool and waiting for Sy there, while impatiently checking the temperature.

"How is it?"

Once again the deep bass of Sy's voice pulled you back to the present.

"It's perfect. I'm not surprised, to be honest, he probably has some fancy heating syste-euhm...", your voice trailed off when you saw Sy's beautifully beefy chest. His baggy swim trunks hung low on his hips and the hair from his chest trailed down all the way to-

"Sugar?"

"P-perfect", you babbled, "UH- the water! It's perfect...nice and warm"

He threw his signature grin your way and you swore you felt your knees buckle. That grin was almost too much to handle on a regular day. The grin + him shirtless + THE SNAIL TRAIL???? Yeah you didn't stand a chance.

"You gonna swim with the robe on, Sugar?"

"Jeez, Captain if you wanted me to strip that bad all you had to do was ask"

Alright, you may have sounded confident, but this was all fake it till you make it.

Sy jumped in the water to hide his grin, nearly splashing you in the process.

You threw your robe on one of the pool chairs and your eyes found his right as he resurfaced. He took you in, you could tell. For a second you had the urge to cover yourself up, hiding the parts your black bikini failed to cover, but you opted against it, desperately trying to keep the confident act up.

It was quiet for a second or two while you just looked at each other.

"Perfect...", his voice was barely above a whisper, "The uh..., the water. You were right, the temperature is perfect."

You couldn't help but smile as you realized he was just as nervous as you were. Finally, you fully got in the pool too, relaxing a bit as the warm water surrounded you.

"I could get used to this", you sighed.

"We could put a kiddy pool in our living room If that makes ya feel better?"

You snorted at that, "Yeah, and then have Aika jump in and our entire place smelling like wet dog? No thanks, that kinda takes away the whole relaxing aspect in my opinion"

"Oh alright, Miss Fancy", he splashed some water your way.

"Fuck SY! I wasn't gonna wet my hair!" you shrieked.

"What kinda bullshit is that? Why would you get in the pool if you didn't wanna wet your hair?", his eyebrows furrowed, "too late now anyway, Sugar" he chuckled, splashing you again, right in your eyes this time.

"Ah, shit!" your hands flew to your face as you frantically rubbed your eyes as you turned away from him to shield yourself.

"Shit! Sorry, Sugar, u okay?"

"Yeah, I'm fine you fucking idiot", realization didn't hit you until you saw the black streaks on your palms, "Fuck, I was wearing makeup", you mumbled.

Alright. You knew it was ridiculous, wearing makeup to the pool. But it wasn't a lot or anything, just some mascara and a little bit of concealer here and there. You weren't even planning on it, honest to god. But when you thought about Sy seeing you in a bikini for the first time you couldn't help but feel a bit insecure, so you needed something to bump your confidence, just a little bit.

You should have known boys will always be boys. And there's no keeping it dry when Sy is around anyway.

"Sugar? You can turn back around now, I promise no more splashing",

Ugh fuck fuck fuck...You still had your back to him. You couldn't turn around now, you probably looked like a panda. And you didn't want him to know you wore makeup to the pool, he would never stop laughing at you.

"I uh...I think I'm gonna get out...I'm getting kinda cold", you tried to keep your face away from him as you made your way to the ladder, but as per usual, he was too quick for you.

"What? The pool is heated, besides, I can keep ya warm. I swear I'm sorry Sugar, c'mon don't leave?", you felt his big hands circle your waist under the water, pulling your floating body closer to him in a matter of seconds. Your back hit his warm fuzzy chest and you stiffled a moan.

Okay, he wasn't gonna let you leave, new plan...

You desperately wiped under your eyes, hoping to god he wouldn't see.

"Wh-are you...are you crying?", he sounded genuinely concerned, "Did I hurt you? I didn't mean to Sugar I promise, lemme see", he carefully turned you around in his arms

"No no, Sy you didn't hurt me, I'm not crying I just..." your eyes met his and for a second he looked even more confused, "Why do you look like Batman?", he grinned.

"Ugghhhh..." you groaned in embarrassment, "I just...I just tried out a new mascara this morning and I forgot I had it on...I have makeup wiped in my bag upstairs just lemme go take it off", you rambled trying to get out of his grip but he didn't budge.

"Oh, don't be ridiculous, Sugar, just do that later."

"Sy, I'm not being ridiculous I LOOK ridiculous, just let me go fix it I'll be back in a minute."

You tried leaving again, but this time his big paws grabbed you by the face, gently but still firm.

"You don't look ridiculous, Sugar...C'mere..."

For a second you thought he was going to kiss you and your eyes fell shut, but instead, you felt his thumbs wipe away the dark streaks.

"There ya go...all better", he smirked. "No more Batman."

"Ugh, shut up", now it was your turn to splash him.

"Oh don't start what you can't finish, dear." his devilish smirk was enough to make you squeal as you backed up.

"No, Sy come on! My hair!", you swam as fast as you could, and just when you thought you could get away, you felt a hand wrap around your ankle.

"Oh no ya don't", he pulled you back to him within seconds, and just like that...your hair wasn't the only thing getting wet against your will...

"I think your face could use another wash," was all he said before pushing your shoulders down under the water, you came back up immediately gasping for air.

"I can't believe you did that!" you sputtered as he just stood there laughing. You didn't even think before jumping on his back, trying to push him down. Looking back that may have been a dumb idea because the captain didn't budge. If anything, it just made him laugh harder. "Aww, isn't that cute? Well, Sugar if I'm going down, I'm taking you with me..."

"No, Sy", you felt his arms tighten around your legs, "no no no no no n-" he dove underwater, keeping his promise and indeed taking you with him.

"T-truce" you breathed out the second you got up for air, "truce truce truce!", you were out of breath, probably looking like a drowned panda bear and the chlorine mixed with your leftover mascara was stinging in your eyes, "fucking hell, this was not as relaxing as I had in mind", you muttered to yourself.

Sy chuckled, obviously he was looking handsome as ever while you felt like you looked like you were just spit out by something.

"C'mere...truce accepted," he gently pulled you against him again, his fingertips trailing down your sides to your thighs, 'up', he commanded and you unsurely wrapped your legs around his waist, letting him guide you. "there ya go, good girl."

You felt your cheeks heat up and told yourself it was just from his body heat.

You wrapped your arms around his shoulders and snuggled into the crook of his neck while he slowly floated the both of you through the warm water. A wave of exhaustion suddenly came over you. You were too tired and comfortable to overthink what exactly was happening.

_____________________________________________________________

"Hey Sugar..."

"Hmmm?"

"I really think we should get out now..."

It took you a while to realize you were still in the pool, still in Sy's arms.

"Hm fuck...did I...did I fall asleep?"

"Only a little"

"How long was I out?"

"A good 20 minutes, never seen ya shut up for that long, had to check if you were still breathing"

You wanted to make a snarky comment but all you could muster was a grin before finally peeling yourself off of him and getting out of the water.

"Im starving," Sy said as he reached for his towel.

"Yeah, me too. Do you wanna order pizza? I'm too scared to touch anything in that kitchen"

"Sounds good, probably for the best anyway, don't need ya setting the place on fire"

You threw one of your towels at his face, "Shut it, Syverson. I'm showering first and if I were you i'd be nice to me cause I won't hesitate to use up all the hot water."

"S'fine, Sugar. I'm a military man. Nothing I can't handle", he grinned and watched you turn around with a smirk on your face.

"I could probably do with a cold shower anyway..." he muttered to himself as he watched you walk away, thanking all that was good and pure for not letting you notice the massive hard-on he was hiding while you were snoozing in his arms.

"You order, I shower", you yelled back, "I'll take pepperoni, Cap!"

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

45 minutes later you and Sy sat on the massive suede couch, freshly showered, clad in fluffy white bathrobes, and munching on pizza.

"That's such bullshit!" you laughed

"Is not! I swear to you, Sugar! He just stood there in nothing but a thong. Traumatized the entire squad."

"Where the hell did he get a thong in the middle of the desert?!"

"Fuck do I know?! He musta brought it with him?"

You were dying laughing, like actually proper laughing. Tears nearly in your eyes, face red hot, snorting out laughing.

"Sy, there is no way one of your men walked around on base in the middle of the night in nothing but a thong."

"Sugar, I swear to ya, I'm a lot'a things, but a liar ain't one of 'em."

"So what did you do?"

"Sent the fucker home."

"Maybe that was his plan all along? Maybe he just wanted to get sent home?"

"Maybe, Sugar. Maybe." he took another swig of his beer as you chomped down the last bite of your pizza and a comfortable silence settled over you.

"I think I should probably head to bed, I'm exhausted."

"Yeah, me too", he agreed, "I'll just take some things out'a the room and then I'll be good to sleep here."

"Sy, please, don't be silly", you argued, "I was drooling on your shoulder barely an hour ago, I'm sure we can share a bed for one night."

He chuckled at that, "Alright I guess you got a point there, but only if you're sure."

"Yeah, I'm sure genius, but no funny business", you pointed your finger at him.

"Yes ma'am, Roger that", he smirked.

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

You stared at yourself in the bathroom mirror.

Skincare done, teeth brushed, hair blow dried, perfume sprayed, pajamas on.

Alright, okay. There's only so much you can do to get ready for bed.

"You're gonna have to go out there sooner or later" you spoke softly to your own reflection.

Jesus Christ this was ridiculous. This was YOUR idea. It's just sleeping. You did it before. Earlier tonight, in fact. Just get out there, get in the bed, close your eyes, and go to sleep. Nothing special.

Maybe that was the problem. Maybe you wanted it to be special. What if he didn't? Oh god, what if he DID?

You took a deep breath and finally opened the door.

"Sorry I took so long, I couldn't find my night cre-...Sy?"

There he was. Bulging shoulders on full display, the muscles on his back moving with each breath, the waistband of his boxers peeking out just above where the sheets covered his butt.

His bearded face snuggled into his pillow, his large arms curling underneath it.

You couldn't help but smile as you looked down at him. The true definition of a gentle giant. It was beyond you how someone could look so fucking sexy and so fucking cute at the same time.

You finally crawled into bed next to him, careful not to wake him up. But as you turned over on your side to turn your nightlight off, you suddenly his beefy arm snaked its way around you and pulled you close to him.

You barely managed to flip the switch before feeling his warm chest against your back again. His beard tickled the back of your neck a little making you grin, soft snores telling you he was still fast asleep..

It felt so good, so safe, so warm, so comfortable...you dozed off with a smile on your face, and not a care in the world...

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

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[e-m-ma-lmfao]

Protect You Always

pairing : cloud strife x (fem) reader

summary: tifa is sure that cloud has feelings for you. so sure that she accidentally makes you confess.

warnings: none :)

“Could you go run errands with Cloud today?” Tifa held her hands out to you, mock pleas all over her face. 

“Huh? Why me? Why can’t you?” She backed away, turning to concoct another drink up for you, loosening you up to ask for her favour most likely. 

“Sure I could. But..he seems to have taken a liking to a certain mercenary sitting at my bar.” Suddenly your drink caught in your throat. With flushed cheeks you moved your almost empty cup up to your lips to hide your face as much as possible from anybody listening in. That was crazy. Cloud didn’t feel anything for anybody, except maybe…you thought for Tifa? With her back still turned she let out a small laugh, and you could feel the smile burning on her face. 

“That’s not funny Tifa.” Quickly she turned to face you, startling you enough to set your drink down onto the surface of the bar, as she pointed an accusatory finger at you. 

“And I’m not joking. It’s so obvious. He is the nicest to you out of all of us,” she turned to grab the drink and then returned to hand it to you, “Plus he does literally everything you ask him to for FREE, you think he does that to all of us? No way.” If you thought about it long enough, she might be right. You could think of a couple examples of Cloud maybe showing you a little more attention then the rest of the group. 

He had walked you home from the bar almost every night for the past year that you had known him. Without fail. Without asking. “Girls like you shouldn’t walk around at night by themselves, it’s not safe.”

“I’m completely capable of walking myself home Cloud”.

“I know”

You would have a little too much to drink or none at all, completely sober and capable of walking yourself down the short street of the slums to your apartment. Didn’t matter, he was still walking you home. 

Cloud had never once used the excuse that it was because he lived right above you, and even if he had you would be able to easily tell he was lying because he wouldn’t go home after dropping you at yours. 

There was even that one time where you laid your head down on the surface of the bar for five minutes and had woken up in your bed the next morning unsure of how you had even got there, perhaps Cloud avoiding you the next day had nothing to do with that. 

Sometimes, when a guy would shoot an inappropriate comment in your direction, Cloud’s cheekbones would become more prominent. Why was he clenching his jaw? And why did he suddenly seem all pouty? You never paid much attention to them anyways and carried on with your day without being bothered by a sleazy guy in the street. Maybe it was simply coincidence that Cloud would always disappear for a couple hours after, without a good excuse or just leaving with a prompt, “I’ll see you later, I have something to take care of.”  

However those guys did seem to always end up coming to you with some sort of apology later that day or even the next, roughed up and clearly not there out of free will. 

And when you would ask him to do certain things for you that somebody had asked of him the same day. Tifa was right, he never asked you for payment, you couldn’t even remember a time he had accepted payment from you.. Every time you tried to pay him he refused it, pushing it back towards you. “Let's count it as a favor and say you owe me one.” Your face would scrunch up in annoyance but it would fade just as quickly as it had appeared when a barely noticeable smile would upturn Cloud's lips and his eyes would brighten the smallest bit.

“Who knew someone could have such a nice smile when they're all moody and scary all the time.”

“You think I’m scary?” Cloud seemed to make a habit out of smiling around you after that day. 

The sound of Tifa’s soft laughter had brought you back to the conversation happening in front of you, her eyes were staring into yours and you could feel your cheeks warm at her catching you daydreaming. 

“Thinking about Cloud?” You opened your mouth to retort but another voice interrupted you before you could. 

“Who’s thinking about me?” You were mortified, spinning in your chair to see Cloud approaching the bar, most likely coming to collect Tifa for their run to see who needed help. A job that you, unfortunately, had forgotten before he had made his presence known. 

“Just your favourite girl seated at my bar.” Tifa gleamed, grin wide and it only grew wider when she looked between your faces. You were flushed, embarrassed, eyes full of maybe anger and a want to hide from the earth. Cloud tried to be stoic, but he gave away his true feelings by the obvious pink tint to his cheeks and the way his mouth opened as he looked towards you. Words caught in both of your throats.

“I won’t be going with you today because I have some extra stuff to do around the bar. Is it okay if y/n goes in my place?”

“Uhhh..” Clouds hesitation made you want to crumble into a ball. If Tifa was right , and he did like you, then why wouldn’t he say yes right away? 

“I don’t have to, honestly! I can finish up for you here Tifa!” She’s shot daggers into you with her eyes.

“We’ll whoever’s coming with me, make it quick.” He stared between the two of you, face blank , before turning to go outside. You turned back to look at Tifa not waiting to hear the door close.

“What the hell are you trying to do?” It was your turn to shoot daggers into Tifa. 

“Just go with him, why is it any different than any other time?” In her hands she held a dirty class, wiping it down with a washcloth cloth as she spoke to you.

“Because Tifa now you’ve put this stupid idea in my head that maybe, and that’s a pretty big maybe, Cloud Strife might be feeling the same things I do.” She looked at you, concern rolling around in her eyes, and she looked like she was about to speak but you cut her off. 

“No. Seriously Tifa, I’m tired of you making it seem like me and Cloud might ever be anything other than co-workers. I can’t keep getting my hopes up over the same guy, and you're really not helping.” Her face was soft now, eyes full of pity before they shuffled towards the door. 

“What’s that look for?” You turned your body to follow her eyes. It occurred to, when you met his wide eyes, that you had not actually heard Cloud leave the bar. 

“I’ll be waiting..uhh..outside.” Cloud let out an awkward, silence breaking cough before letting himself out the door. 

“You are joking. This isn’t real. That didn’t happen. Why’d you let me spew like that?”

“I tried to stop you!” Before you could get any angrier at her she took your hands in hers and spoke before you. “I know that right now, in your head, the whole world just crumbled around you. But you should’ve seen the way Clouds face lit up. It was subtle but it was there.”

You went to speak but her finger met your lips. “Trust me. Go with him, and talk to him about this. Do not leave it.”

A sigh left your lips, tickling her finger enough to pull it away from yours lips, “What if you're wrong Tifa?” 

“If I’m wrong, free drinks for a year AND I’ll take over for you on every job with Cloud.” You gave her a somber nod and slipped from the barstool, dragging your feet out the door. 

Just as he had said he would be, Cloud stood not far from the door. From where you stood, and you weren’t entirely certain if you were seeing it right, but his cheeks seemed to be gleaming with an unfamiliar red color. As the door closed behind you, Cloud looked over, trying to hide the color blooming on his face. 

“Let’s go, I wanna get this done before the sun goes down.” He moves down the stairs quickly before you even get a chance to respond and your heart sinks but you follow after him anyways, heart in your stomach. 

The whole ordeal took the two of you maybe an hour and a half, but it felt much much longer. Silence overtook the two of you, both of you being much too stubborn to say the first word, so you worked in complete silence. 

When the job was done you almost slumped over in relief, but your heart had been sinking farther and farther in your body the longer it went on, and it was starting to affect you. 

“Hey Cloud,” the first words spoken between you for the last two hours, “I’m gonna head home if you don’t need anything else.” You couldn’t even hold eye contact, embarrassment burning your face. 

“I’ll walk you.”

“You don’t have to do that.”

“I know,” You looked up to where his mako tainted eyes were already burning into you, “But I’m still going to. We need to talk.” And with the words, you were sure you could throw up, heart fully sunk now. 

What was there to talk about? How he didn’t feel the same and Tifa had been leading you astray for months?

You walked silently beside him, skin crawling as you waited for him to say something. 

“I don’t think you’re getting your hopes up.” Hesitating, you looked up from your feet and tried to scan his face, but he was glued forwards. 

“What?”

“C’mon don’t make me repeat it. You’re a smart girl, are you gonna wait for me to spell it out?”  He shot a glance towards you and you were sure you saw it. He was red. Definitely not as red as you but the color was there!

Your heart returned back to your chest, almost tripping over your feet as you followed his quick pace. He was a man on a mission, always, and his steps were so hard to match.  “Oh!”

He didn’t say anything for the rest of the walk but he did ensure that you got up to your apartment safely.

“Would you come in for a second?” Cloud hesitated but he followed, closing the door behind him before standing awkwardly with his arms crossed. 

You sat on your bed and tried to think of the right words to say.

“I’m sure that Tifa has made it pretty obvious that I have ..romantic.. feelings for you.” Sitting down on the bed was the wrong move, you felt so much smaller than usual looking up at him, and his attention fully on you wasn’t helping much. 

“No kidding.” He rolled his eyes but let a small chuckle leave his lips. Cloud was usually so stoic, so serious, and you loved how he was never like that with you. It put a smile on your face. 

“Listen y/n,” Cloud moved towards you to sit on the bed beside you, closer than you would’ve expected from him, “I do feel the same.” A wide smile broke out on your face. his expression remained the same. 

“But you have to understand something.” And the smile flew from your face. Cloud was now showing emotion, his hand flying to your cheek, with concern flooding his eyes. 

“No. Don’t be sad,” His thumb rubbed soft circles against your skin and you weren’t even sure if he was consciously doing it, “I don’t want you to be in danger if we do this. I care about you and if people know that, you could be used to get to me. I can’t do that to you.”

You placed your hand on top of his, his thumb stopping its movement when you made contact, your other hand reaching for the one resting in his lap. “For you, I can be okay with that.”

“I don’t want you getting hurt, ever.” 

“Hey! I can handle myself pretty well, you know,” His face was still so serious, and it was making you nervous, “Besides I have my own personal bodyguard.” You pushed his shoulder gently, and a small smile broke out on his face. 

“Cloud?"

"Hm?"

"Could I..kiss you?” His mouth opened slightly, but he only nodded. 

Gently, you placed your hands on the sides of his face and pulled him in until he was close enough. His lips brushed against yours and they parted just a little more, you froze in front of him in a moment of flustered hesitation. Cloud took his chance in that moment and pushed his lips onto yours, still holding your cheek in his large, rough hand. 

It was quiet and you would’ve felt nervous, if it wasn’t for Cloud’s hands on your skin keeping you so stuck in the monet, and his surprisingly soft lips still held against you.

When he pulled away, his face was still centimeters from your face with your lips still touching slightly, and you almost crumbled from looking into his blown out eyes. You were certain that you looked the same way, your pupils always seemed to be huge when you looked at him anyways. 

“I promise I will always protect you.”

“Always?” His hand found yours, holding your fingers within his own, as gently as he could.

“Forever and always.”

[disneyprincemuke]

i want to be the one that makes your day * ls2

[part two out of eight]

they're now stuck between a rock and a hard place trying to figure out how they feel for one another

pairings: logan sargeant x fem!driver

notes: hi lol i'm sorry i pulled a disappearing act on yall... i hope u still like rocky and logan because hehe

wc: 3.9k

(series masterlist) | (through the years)

2021

“hey, do you wanna– are you going somewhere?” logan tilts his head with furrowed eyebrows as he takes a step into her room.

the girl, standing by her vanity, turns to him as she pauses putting her lipgloss on. “i’m heading out with lily and a couple of uni friends,” she frowns slightly. “is there something you wanna do?”

he takes a step back and scans her. she’s dressed pretty casually, just a pair of jeans and a cropped shirt with one of his jackets on.

so that’s where his damned jacket went.

truth be told, logan could have asked for it back. he should have asked for it back because that is in fact his favourite jacket on her and he has been looking everywhere for it.

he can practically see visions of himself accusing oscar for taking the jacket and refusing to admit his wrongdoings. all along, it’s been with her.

now he dreads the apology that he owes oscar.

if you asked him, she looked kinda better in it than he does.

he feels his knees buckle at the sight of her in one of his clothes. it’s a regular occurrence, yet there’s still something about knowing that it belongs to him. and if you asked him, she definitely looks better in it than he does.

but he supposes he only feels this way because he has feelings for her.

“i was going to ask if you wanted to get dinner with oscar and i tonight,” logan sighs, rolling his eyes jokingly with a teasing grin. “but you look like you’d be out until late.”

she hums and purses her lips together. “i could make it for dinner.” she puts her lipgloss down on her table and grabs her purse from her chair. “text me the details and i’ll meet you guys there?”

“you don’t have to,” he hums. “we could just get dinner tomorrow.”

“we weren’t planning to stay out late. just finishing a couple of assignments together,” she shrugs. she spreads her arms and twirls. “how do i look?”

he chuckles, nodding. “you look great.”

“good!” she starts walking over to him with a scrunched nose. “i’ll give you back the jacket tonight, i promise. i had to keep it for myself for a couple of days because i,” she pauses and momentarily looks away with a teasing smile, “well, i just like this jacket.”

so there’s the confession. now he knows where his jacket’s gone. he sighs internally, noting the apology he’d have to give oscar for accusing him of taking his jacket.

“seriously?” logan snorts with a soft laugh.

“yeah! it looks better on me anyway, don’t you think?”

he simply grins at her, pretending to be annoyed. but if he had the choice, he’d have told her to keep the jacket for herself for the rest of time.

logan scoffs and rolls his eyes, ignoring the thumping of his heart in his chest. “sure, whatever you say.”

logan picking her up from school is suddenly a normal occurrence. every single time she finds herself having to travel to campus, she finds herself in the passenger seat of a car.

specifically, logan’s car.

even though she has a perfectly running vehicle for herself that she can drive just fine.

he claims her driving habits scare everyone so he’s technically doing everyone a favour, which she is inclined to believe. because everyone makes it a point to tell her to drive safely every single time.

it’s getting tiring, really.

but there’s a glimmer of hope in the deepest part of her gut that’s trying to convince her that it means something else. a small part of her begging for it to mean something deeper. she doesn’t want to get her hopes up too much.

“i don’t wanna be the one to say it,” she starts softly, reaching forward to lower down the volume of the radio, “but you missed our exit.”

logan raises his eyebrows with a soft hum and a simple nod. his eyes remain on the road, “did i?”

she raises an eyebrow and turns to face him slightly. he has been driving this route to and fro for a couple of months now.

she doesn’t buy his facade.

she was on campus from before the sun had risen and left after it was set — logan would normally be apologising for not bringing her home as soon as possible.

“where are you taking me?” she sighs, dropping her back into the seat and sinking into it. “you’re not whisking me away to kill me secretly, are you?”

she gasps before logan can answer, throwing her head back with the back of her hand pressed against her forehead dramatically. “i’m too young!”

he scoffs, glancing at her momentarily with a scowl. “you are so annoying. can’t i bring you to get some dinner without you ruining my plans? it was supposed to be a surprise.”

her knitted expression slowly softens. she turns away and presses her back against the seat, a small grin making its way to her face.

just when she thinks she can’t like him any more than she has, he goes ahead and does things like these for her.

it’s very endearing and she finds herself needing to catch her breath.

with her silence, logan looks over and laughs. “that shut you right up, didn’t it?”

“shut up,” she mutters, folding her arms over her chest. “what did you get for dinner anyway?”

“i placed an order from your favourite restaurant downtown,” he explains. “i noticed you haven’t been eating dinner all week when we got home. i figured i’d have to force you into eating dinner.”

come to think of it, she realises the number of times she’s skipped dinner this past week. she didn’t think anyone would notice.

she sighs and throws her arms into the air. “i’m trying to be ahead of my deadlines for the upcoming race weekends.”

“it’s just one dinner.” logan stops at an intersection and turns to her. “come on, i already planned everything out for us tonight. i’ll even have you home by 9 so i don’t take up too much of your time.”

she shakes her head and keeps her gaze out the window.

he taps her gently on the shoulder with a teasing hum, leaning in towards her. “i’ll even help you out with your research.”

“i’m a computer sciences major.”

“with your coding,” logan corrects himself. he taps her on the shoulder one more time, prompting her to whirl around to face him. “please? i don’t want you to starve and i ordered all your favourite dishes.”

it’s infuriating that she’s never truly gotten over her crush on him.

all she can think of is how close he is to her — she can feel his breath fanning down on the tip of her nose. she tries to contain the way her heart pounds and the urge to lean in and crash their lips together.

“okay,” she whispers, barely heard above the music that he’s put on. “but you help me with my coding.”

“absolutely,” he nods, tapping her on the cheek, “anything for you.”

she should just do it; she should kiss him. what’s the worst that could happen?

it’s just a kiss. okay, she’ll do it. she sucks in a deep breath and just about starts to lean forward.

it’s now or never.

they jump away from one another at the booming sound of someone’s car horn. logan turns and finally faces the road.

“it’s a green light!” logan clears his throat as he shifts in his seat. he looks into the rearview mirror as another loud horn is sent his way. he starts to move slightly. “oops.”

another sleepless night trying to meet another deadline. every weekend makes it harder to try and finish her education with the life she’s been trying to live.

with a race weekend coming up soon and her deadlines adding to the mix, she feels her body slowly giving up.

she’s barely been home and spent time with anything else than the gym and her laptop screen.

she lets out a heavy sigh, leaning back as she rubs her eye. “i’m going to die here at this table,” she mutters to herself.

the entirety of the first floor of the house is empty and silent. if she isn’t so consumed by the sheer pressure of scoring good grades, she would be slightly frightened by the eeriness that is the barely lit home.

she sits cross-legged on the floor of the living room. she has textbooks sprawled on the coffee table with her laptop shining into her face.

“you’re still up?” she follows the trail of the voice, meeting logan’s barely awoken stature at the top of the stairs. he has his blanket over his shoulders as he starts to walk down towards her. “what time is it?”

“two-thirty,” she shrugs with a small smile, trying to match his concern for her well-being. “i can’t figure my code out.”

he purses his lips as he makes a turn for the couch she’s sat in front on. “you’ve been glued to your laptop since we had dinner at 8. take a break, dude.”

she shakes her head and promptly returns her attention to her screen. “i can’t. with the race coming up, i want this out of my hair before then.”

“okay.” he drops the blanket on the arm of the couch and turns. “coffee or tea?”

“tea, please. thank you.”

she must have been so consumed by her work because she didn’t notice the cup of tea set up with a coaster right by the textbook. neither does she notice the second cup sitting next to it and the man that’s now sat next to her, wrapped in his blanket once more.

“what are you doing?” she laughs, turning to logan. “go back to bed. don’t you have to be at the gym early tomorrow?”

“i can always come in a little later and end later,” he mutters with a simple shrug. “i’ll keep you company.”

she grins and shakes her head. “don’t bother. at this rate, i’ll be up until i have to be back on campus at 3.”

logan smiles back, patting her gently on the top of her head. “don’t worry about me. i'll keep you company until you’re done for the night.”

she tries to ignore the bigger smile that stretches her lips. a huff passes her lips, feigning annoyance, as she starts to scroll away on her laptop. “sounds like i'm not getting rid of you any time soon,” she jokes, “tell me a story.”

she walks into the kitchen, jumping back at her best friends already eating breakfast. she blinks and tilts her head, “oh. you’re up.”

oscar is hunched over, solemnly eating cereal. he turns to her with furrowed eyebrows. “yes, it’s noon. why wouldn’t we be?”

“i expected you to sleep in later,” she mumbles with a shrug. “i was going to make you guys lunch and a hangover cure.”

logan nods slowly from the other side of the kitchen island. he’s donned in one of oscar’s hoodies, a cold glass of water in his hands. “don’t bother. we puked in the lawn at 4 when we got out of the uber.”

she grins, “wild night?”

“pretty much,” oscar sighs, holding his head in his hands. he should have known better than to listen to arthur while they were in the club. “you know how it goes.”

“arthur and mick were unstoppable,” logan scoffs, dropping his forehead down to meet the marbled table. “thank god you weren’t there, else i would have passed out on the lawn.”

oscar peeks through his side and grins. “do you think you could make me a hangover shake, mate?”

truthfully, he wasn’t expecting the girl to say yes. he had been waiting for a sour expression and a loud ‘no’.

yet she hops off the bar seat with a soft giggle. “so what else did you guys do?” she turns, her gaze landing on logan. “did logan pick up any girls?”

oscar perks up at the question. he glances across him where logan also lifts his head, furrowing his eyes. he then looks at her, now turned back towards the fridge as she pulls out fruits and vegetables.

“no,” oscar mutters.

at the same time, logan says a noticeable “yeah” with a soft laugh.

she stops in her tracks and looks between them. “one of you is saying yes, and the other says no,” she snorts teasingly, “what’s the truth?”

oscar’s stare lingers on logan. for two people completely and hopelessly in love with one another, he is curious as to what the hell is going on.

is it still acceptable to be this open about your affairs though there are feelings involved, despite it not being said aloud?

has he been in a stable relationship for too long that he no longer knows the procedures of having requited feelings nowadays?

“i tried,” logan shrugs with a small grin. “but arthur dragged me away before i could even get back to the dance floor with her.”

is this some kind of twisted game they’re playing? or maybe he’s reading too much into their stares and they’re really over one another?

“you know arthur,” she giggles. “well, you know him.”

maybe they’re really just best friends now.

you would think that after an entire year, oscar would finally believe his best friend regarding his feelings. he wants to believe logan, really, but he is really not helping his case.

oscar leans back on the kitchen island and raises an eyebrow, arms folded over his chest. “she could just get her own orange juice if she really wanted some, mate.”

“you know her,” logan mutters with a soft sigh. “she neglects herself this time of the year with her deadlines and school. it’s the least we could do.”

“you,” oscar corrects him, “the least you could do for her.”

she’d admitted to logan in a trance the other night that sometimes she thinks that this isn’t the life for her — racing and trying to finish her education. she was mumbling something about being too ambitious to want to have both things when clearly, she’s only destined to have one or the other.

she’s not cut out for both, she’d said.

“she’s having a hard time. you’ve seen it; i don’t have to point it out to you.”

logan turns to the kitchen island where he has an entire breakfast set up for the younger girl. there’s scrambled eggs and a few slices of bread on a plate. he sets the cup of orange juice down on the tray and sighs. “am i forgetting something?”

“yes,” oscar sighs, “the fact that you’re just her best friend.”

the american turns his head with a mean glare. he knows there’s a chance that all this will never amount to anything more than what it is.

but right now, while she’s still struggling, he feels like this is the least he could do for her. just making sure that she is well taken care of when she’s not doing it herself.

isn’t that what best friends are for?

“you’re in way over your head,” oscar continues softly, following logan towards the stairs up to her room. “i just watched you strain pulped orange juice for 10 minutes.”

“they didn’t have any pulpless orange juice at the store!” logan scolds back softly, trying not to let the irritation get to him. “she won’t drink it if it has pulp. you know that.”

“that’s barely our problem to solve.” oscar runs ahead a couple of steps and holds his arms out. logan halts his steps and looks up with wide eyes and a sigh, already knowing where the conversation is going. “you’re digging yourself a grave by doing all this. you’re in love with her, mate.”

logan scoffs. “i am not in love with her.”

that’s what he says, but it’s not exactly what he feels. more so the fact that he is still in denial having feelings like this towards his best friend.

even a child could sense the lie.

oscar shrugs and steps aside. he gestures for logan to continue up the stairs. “okay.”

logan continues to give him a skeptical stare as he slowly climbs up the last few steps of the stairs. “i’m not, i swear,” he repeats, eyes pleading for oscar to believe him just this once.

the australian nods and raises his hands in the air. “hey, whatever you say, mate.”

oscar knocks on her bedroom door for logan.

they share a knowing look with one another. oscar’s stare silently sending him waves of uncertainty, but what scares him is the same feeling that logan’s is throwing at him.

as if he doesn't entirely understand what’s going on either and why he is acting this way.

“come in.”

“i made you breakfast before i send you off to campus,” logan beams as oscar pushes the door open. “i know how you roll around for like 20 minutes until you’re late.”

the girl sits up from her bed, hair in a dishevelled ponytail and eyes barely open. “i had a late night.”

“we know,” oscar mumbles, closing the door behind him. “we heard you wailing at 4.”

she giggles sheepishly, retracting in her bed to make some space. she taps on the empty space and drops her gaze to her sheets. “my code wasn’t working.”

“figured,” logan shrugs with a soft snort. “well, eat up.”

oscar lingers by the door, hands by his side as he watches them.

she slouches slightly with an almost unnoticeable smile as logan prepares an egg sandwich for her, shyly watching him with her head dropped. it was a scene you would only appreciate as a bystander.

it unfolds like a movie scene right before his eyes: stray strands of her hair falling on her face as she giggles. logan pulls his arm back and starts to wave the sandwich in the air, making a beeline for her and hovering it by her lips.

it’s really not even that funny, oscar admits to himself. he doesn’t know why she’s laughing so hard.

oh, god.

his best friends are in love with one another.

“oscar,” she calls out firmly as her giggle dies down. “aren’t you joining us to eat breakfast?”

oscar lifts his gaze from the ground and meets her curious stare. he takes a deep breath and smiles before he nods. “of course.”

he slowly heads for her bed and nervously laughs.

this simply cannot be good. friends never look at each other that way and remain just friends.

she jolts up, the blanket strewn over her falling down her torso. she looks down at herself and realises she’s been moved over to the couch from her dreadful position on the floor by the coffee table.

she whirls around to the clock and her eyes widen at the time: it’s way past the deadline for her assignment.

she starts to feel the panic coursing through her veins, her chest tightening and her breathing starting to get rigid. she scrambles down the couch and hurls the blanket off of her.

how did she even get on the couch?

she could have sworn that she had set a timer for 5 minutes to immediately lock herself back into double-checking her work. had she dozed off and somehow, at some point through the night, climbed onto the couch to sleep?

she grabs her laptop and hurriedly opens it, trying to list out possible explanations as to how it’s come to this.

“what are you doing?” logan’s raspy voice catches her attention.

he lifts his head from his pillow with his eyes barely being able to open from the sun seeping through the curtains. he has a blanket wrapped around him loosely as he props himself up on an elbow.

she’s heaving, starting to get lightheaded from her situation. because how could she be so careless?

“hey,” logan sits up, “are you okay? what’s going on?”

“my assignment,” she cries.

she can’t help it but tears start to fall out of her eyes. she fans herself with a hand as she frantically clicks around on her screen.

shaking her head hopelessly, she’s barely even able to navigate her laptop through the tears. “i missed my deadline. oh, god, i missed it.”

she wipes her face aggressively with her palms and returns her attention to her laptop. “i don’t even know how i ended up on the couch. how could i be so stupid?”

“okay, breathe.” her body jerks slightly as logan gets a firm grip on her shoulders. he sits on the couch behind her and slowly reaches forward to tear her hands away from the laptop. “relax.”

she resists him. “i missed my deadline! i know you’re not going to school anymore, but this is kind of important! now is not the time, logan.”

he grabs her shoulders again. “i submitted it for you when i found you sleeping at like 3. i moved you to the couch.”

“why would you do that?” she huffs, turning her head to frown at him. “did you even check it?”

logan nods, with a slightly proud smile on his face. “i know a friend who codes, so i asked him to check it for me,” he admits. “then i sent it in.”

he waits for a response, but the girl continues her bewildered stare at him. if you asked him, it kind of scared him.

“i’m sorry. i couldn’t bear to wake you up so i thought i’d just send it in for you if all was okay,” logan explains with a shrug. “and it was!”

she opens her mouth, debating if she should say something. but realistically, what he did is very sweet. and even through her tears and frantic mindset at the moment, even she couldn’t ignore the gesture.

she sucks in a deep breath and lets out a heavy breath. “and you’re sure you submitted it?”

“i triple-checked it, i promise,” he nods with a small smile. logan slides down the couch to join her on the floor. “you just looked so peaceful sleeping. i’m really sorry if i overstepped.”

“thank you.” she pats him on the knee with a soft laugh. “it’s okay but next time–”

“i will wake you up next time,” he finishes her sentence for her. he reaches up to cup her cheeks, wiping away her tears with his thumbs. “i’ll make you breakfast to show you how sorry i am, okay?”

she nods, giggling when logan squishes her cheeks. “i want porridge.”

gen taglist: @33-81 @darleneslane @namgification @localwhoore @happy-nico @nikfigueiredo

[rosepetalsinwinter]

Five Years That Felt Like a Millennium (2) — Bucky Barnes

Pairing: tfatws!bucky x reader

Word count: 7,579

Summary: Baby Girl isn't doing too well after seeing Quentin.

Warnings: illusions and mention of violence, abuse, manipulation, and cheating, self-deprecation, fluff, flirting, angst

Note: I apologize for my absence. The response to the first part has been unbelievable! Thank you all so much. I hope I can do it justice.

Ao3│Wattpad│Ko-fi

Main Masterlist │Part 1 — Part 2 — Part 3

Happy Reading! 💜

Bucky didn't know a person could cry so much. Surely, the body must have surpassed a threshold ages ago for maximum fluid expulsion, but it seemed unlikely. Tears ran unbidden down Baby Girl's face, soaking into her white camisole, still wet from the lake. At least her body no longer wracked with sobs, which was a small accomplishment, he supposed.

He filled a glass with cold water. "Here, drink this."

Baby Girl's movements were almost mechanical as she took measured sips, slowly draining the glass. She stared at her reflection in the crystal, then abruptly stood, making Bucky hastily step back. Barefoot and half-dressed, she made for the front door.

Bucky blocked her path. "Where are you going?"

She went around him and reached for the handle, but Bucky intercepted her just in time, pulling her by the wrist. Her eyes were unfocused and wild, darting this way and that. "Hey!" She froze. "Hey," he said again, softer and with considerably less force. "What's going on in that smart brain of yours, huh? What are you thinking?"

"I need to find Quentin," she gulped. "I need to apologize to him. I need to make things right before he—"

She choked on her words, but Bucky knew her enough by now to predict what she would say next. "Before he what? Before he hurts Sam?"

Her face crumpled. "Maybe if I get down on my knees and beg, he'll forgive me, and things can go back to the way they used to be."

Bucky felt his previous anger return. Quentin Beck was a goddamn asshole because, in the span of a few minutes, he had managed to turn a bright and bubbly soul into an inconsolable mess.

"Is that really what you want?" he asked. "You want things to go back to the way they used to be?" Bucky already knew Baby Girl's answer, but he felt it was imperative for her to acknowledge out loud.

"No," she croaked. "Not really, but I don't have a choice. Quentin will hurt Sam and his family."

Bucky wiped the fresh tears from her face, letting his hands linger on her cheeks. "And what about you? He's hurting you. Are you not Sam's family?"

Baby girl began crying anew. Bucky carried her to the couch and held her close, letting her tears run down his bare skin. They sat like that until her breathing eventually evened, and her eyes drooped close. Bucky didn't dare move. Baby Girl was cradled in his arms and against his neck, legs stretched on the couch.

His eyes began to close, sleep slowly taking over, and he was going to let it. They both needed rest after the day's events, but sleep wasn't in his fortune. Bucky's phone buzzed in his pocket, and he startled awake, awkwardly maneuvering around to retrieve it without disturbing Baby Girl.

It was Sam. Bucky glanced down at the sleeping form in his arms. Dried tears painted her face, her eyes were puffy, and her nose red. Bucky's heart lurched in his chest, and he made a hasty decision—promise be damned, Bucky would fix this for her.

He answered the call. "Hey, Sam." And told him everything .

"Sam?" Bucky asked, after Sam had been quiet too long.

Sam sounded wretched with grief. "I knew something was wrong. I just never imagined..."

Bucky sighed, already anticipating the blame game. A family trait, he considered. "It's not your fault. Quentin Beck is to blame, and he will pay for his actions, I promise you." Though Bucky couldn't see him, he imagined Sam nodding his frustration. "Do you think you could get in contact with Congressman Lockhart?"

"Congressman Lock—why?"

"He owes me a favour," said Bucky, not mentioning that he had saved Lockhart's life. "How much are you willing to bet that Lockhart has met Quentin Beck before, and that Beck has probably left a less-than-savoury impression on the Congressman?"

"I don't understand."

"Keep your friends close and your enemies closer, Sam."

Sam was impressed. "I'll ask Torres to get us in contact."

Bucky smirked, feeling a satisfaction spread over him at the thought of Quentin Beck rotting in a jail cell. "You do that. When do you think you'll be back?"

Baby Girl shifted in his arms, and Bucky softened his voice. "Day after tomorrow? Alright, keep me updated." He ended the call.

"Who was that?" came a groggy voice. Baby Girl's eyes were closed, and she was in the process of waking up.

"Sam," Bucky answered, adjusting her in his arms. "His business is taking longer than usual. He and Sarah will be back in a few days.

Baby Girl pushed away from Bucky, sat up next to him, and wiped her mouth with the back of her hand. Her eyes trailed to his chest and widened in mortification. "Shit, I'm so sorry. I drooled all over you."

When she reached over to wipe him clean, he grabbed her wrist. "Why do you make it a habit to apologize for things out of your control?"

She suddenly jerked away from him, putting ample space between them. "I can hardly help how I feel. If I feel sorry, I apologize."

"Well, don't." Bucky stretched his legs, groaning at the relief. "I'm a grown man," he teased, wiping his chest with the back of his hand. "I can handle a little drool."

Baby girl looked down at her palms, forlorn and despondent. "I'm a mess," she muttered.

"Yes, you are," Bucky responded quietly. She jerked her head in surprise, expecting him to dispute her. But she didn't need his false reassurances any longer. Bucky wanted the full weight of her circumstances bearing down on her so she might escape from the haze of melancholy and finally fight back.

Bucky looked out the window at the setting sun. It cast a beautiful golden glow over the two of them. "You should change into something comfortable," he told her. "There's a lot to talk about."

"Quentin was in one of my electives at school." Baby Girl was freshly showered and changed, wearing Bucky's sweats because she was out of clean clothes. They were enormous on her frame, which suited her well.

Bucky had also changed and was sitting across from her on the kitchen table, a warm cup of tea in his hands. It was something floral with a bitter note. He took his plain while she drowned hers in honey.

"Abnormal Psychology," she continued, "which is ironic because I diagnosed him with narcissism a few years into our relationship. I never told him, obviously. It wouldn't have ended well."

The conversation—long overdue—produced a painful pit in Bucky's stomach. He recognized it as suppressed rage, slowly building in potency and power. Bucky took a large sip of his tea, letting it burn his tongue so he might focus on anything other than the need to punch Beck's face.

"I tripped over his bag. He helped me up; apologized, and asked me to dinner."

Bucky couldn't help how bitter he sounded. "And you said yes."

She looked at him with dead eyes. "I wish I had. Then my life wouldn't have turned into a Shakespearean tragedy."

"That seems a bit bleak," Bucky snorted.

"But isn't it?" she implored. "Bleak? He was my first serious boyfriend; I moved in with him after two weeks and quit my job after a month. He didn't say 'I love you' until I threatened to leave him when I found out he was cheating. I pretended to look the other way when I found another girl's bra in our bed. I laughed when I saw lipstick stains on his collar. I gave him my virginity on my birthday, the day after I found out he cheated on me again. If that isn't bleak, if that isn't a tragedy, then what is? Perhaps it's the fact that I made excuses for him the first time he hit me. I told myself he was aiming for the wall, and I got in the way of his fist, but let's be honest, I was deluding myself."

Baby girl took a deep breath and dug her nails into the table. Her previous sorrow was replaced with unbridled anger. "I recognized all the signs. I knew he was using me—manipulating me! He even said so himself. We were at a party, and his friend said I was 'quite something.' Whatever the hell that's supposed to mean! Quentin said, 'She is, isn't she? But I gotta tell you, I'm not with her for that brain of hers.' I was standing right next to him! He and his friends undressed me with their eyes, and I just stood there and smiled!"

Bucky felt his rage simmering—at Beck, at the situation, at her . "Why are you blaming yourself? It's not your fault!"

Baby Girl pushed away from the table and paced around. "Don't!" she shouted. "Nothing you say will make this okay, Bucky. Nothing you say will make what I did okay!"

Bucky stood up as well, breathing heavily. He had known her less than a week but already felt burning concern on her behalf. "And what did you do?"

"Nothing!" she screamed, and her shrill voice echoed throughout the empty house. "I did nothing! Quentin threatened Sam, then once Sam blipped, he threatened Sarah and the boys, and I knew it wasn't a bluff because he had the connections to back him up. I knew, because I'm the one who helped him get those connections in the first place!"

Bucky sucked in a quick breath. "What connections?" Baby Girl had calmed somewhat after her brief yet brutal rant, and she sat down at the table, sipping her tea.

"What connections!" Bucky almost shouted.

Baby Girl startled. "I don't know! Businessmen, stockbrokers, a lot of Wall Street types. They paid attention to him when he had a pretty girl on his arm."

"Was that all?" Bucky probed.

Baby Girl shook her head. "There were a lot of government officials, too. I told you, remember? FBI, CIA, Homeland Security, Senators, UN spokespersons, congressmen, federal court judges—"

"Repeat that."

"Federal court—"

"No!" Bucky interrupted again. "What you said before."

"Congressmen?" Baby Girl huffed in annoyance. "I don't understand why that stood out to you the most. Are federal court judges not impressive enough for you, Bucky?"

Bucky ignored her snark and sat across from her. "Do you happen to know a Congressman Lockhart?"

Baby Girl paused before taking a sip from her cup. "Surprisingly, yes. Mr. Lockhart left a lasting impression when he didn't try looking down my dress every few minutes or shoving his hand up my leg."

"That's disgusting," he frowned.

"That's life," Baby Girl retorted. "Trust me, I had it better than most women."

Bucky shook his head, hating how she downplayed her struggles. "That's not okay."

Baby Girl scoffed without heat. "Like things were so much better in the forties. Right, Sergeant Barnes?"

Bucky ignored any feelings the utterance of his title from her lips brought forth. "I didn't stand for that then, and I don't stand for it now."

Thankfully, she seemed to have mercy on him and let the topic slide. "He didn't seem to like Quentin much; Lockhart. He asked me a lot of questions, and I think he got suspicious when I couldn't answer anything."

"Like what?"

"Like what I do for work, my interests, how I met Quentin. I couldn't tell him anything without revealing how abusive Quentin was. He especially didn't like it when he found out I was Sam Wilson's adopted kid sister."

Bucky was intrigued. "What did he say?"

"Nothing. He ignored Quentin for the rest of the event, but right before it ended, he pulled me aside and..." she trailed off.

"What?" Bucky encouraged her.

Baby Girl looked at him with shame and guilt swimming in her irises. "Congressman Lockhart told me I was making a mistake. He told me Quentin was using me because of my relation to Sam Wilson. He told me men like Quentin were rotten to the core, and I should run the other way and never look back." She gulped. "I should've listened to him."

Bucky shook his head. "You made a decision. You couldn't have known."

She didn't hear him, seemingly playing the scene in her mind. "Then the strangest thing happened. Congressman Lockhart called a few days later to meet about the project Quentin had proposed. Quentin was ecstatic, as you can imagine. He was overly sweet with me that day." Her brows puckered in confusion. "But I never understood... Why warn me away from Quentin only to cozy up to him later?"

Bucky leaned back in his chair, thinking everything over, connecting the dots. "Congressman Lockhart is a good man," he said. "A good and clever man."

Baby Girl narrowed her eyes. "How do you know him anyway? What does he have to do with anything?"

Bucky hesitated. He didn't want to get her hopes up if his plan didn't work, but he also couldn't watch her beat herself up any longer. This girl, this beautiful and feisty girl, had Bucky wrapped around her fingers since she wrapped her arms around his waist that day on his bike. This girl, who laughed and cried and smiled and was never afraid to voice her opinion. This girl, who looked at Bucky with admiration in her eyes, who looked at his metal arm with gentle curiosity and without any of the disgust or malice he was used to. Who kept her questions light and discrete so as not to unsettle him. This girl, this beautiful and feisty girl, who made Bucky smile.

He would do anything for her. Even if it meant keeping his scheme a secret.

Bucky hesitated, not wanting to lie to her, but finding he had little choice. "I have a plan," he said. "To get rid of Quentin Beck for good."

And Bucky was presented, for the first time since their swim in the lake, a genuine and awe-filled smile, directed entirely at him.

"Lemonade?"

Bucky swam toward the deck, hoisting himself from the lake. Baby Girl was sitting on the edge, letting her bare feet skim the cool water. "You take such good care of me," Bucky teased. He gave a playful shake of his head, sending droplets of water her way.

Baby Girl shrieked and raised her hands to cover her face. "You ass!"

With a chuckle, Bucky leaned back on his elbow, reaching for the drink.

"And to think I brought you sustenance!" Baby Girl pushed a plate of fruit toward him.

Bucky picked up a fruit with a deep purple flesh and examined it with suspicion. "Is this alien food? It looks like something you might find in Asgard."

Baby Girl stared in awe. "You've been to Asgard?"

Bucky was still looking at the teardrop-shaped product. "Not yet," he declared confidently and bit into the flesh. Bucky paused a moment, staring at Baby Girl before taking a larger bite. "What the fuck? Why is it so good?"

Baby Girl laughed. "What, you've never had a fig before?" She grabbed one for herself and showed him a better way to eat it. "You pinch it at the top. Split it open. Fold it over, and voila!" She popped it in her mouth, groaning as flavour burst across her tongue.

"I thought it was some weird kind of plum!" Bucky exclaimed, grabbing another.

"Nope, just a fig."

"Just a fig, she says," Bucky teased. "And what's this?" He threw a shiny orange fruit in the air, catching it just before it smacked Baby Girl in the face.

She took it from him with an unconvincing frown. " This —is a persimmon. You know it's ripe when it's ready to burst. I like to pinch the skin like this—" she demonstrated by making an incision with her teeth, "and suck the flesh." Baby Girl moaned in delight. "I missed this."

Bucky intensely observed her, paying close attention to a drop of persimmon juice on her lip.

"What? Is there something on my face?"

Bucky reached over to wipe the juice with his thumb. "You're a mess," he said hoarsely. Then, he brought his thumb to his mouth and licked it off as she watched him. "It's sweet."

She stared at him, soft lips parted and breaths uneven. "Did you think it would be sour?"

Bucky shrugged and picked up one for himself, following Baby Girl's instructions and getting a proper taste. When he was halfway through his fruit and Baby Girl was still gawking at him, Bucky realized he had taken the flirting a bit too far.

Satisfaction crackled in his muscles, and he twitched out a smirk. It was only a small accomplishment that he had retained some of his frivolous ways, but he was still proud. "What else do you have for me?" he inquired loudly, effectively diverting her.

Baby Girl quickly composed herself, dropping the rest of her persimmon onto the fruit plate. "Watermelon and grapes."

"Does the watermelon change colours, and do the grapes taste like cotton candy?"

"Change colours—No!" Baby Girl gawped. "You have a strong imagination." She suddenly turned thoughtful. "I was thinking of grabbing the cotton candy grapes, though. But they're too sweet for me."

It was Bucky's turn to gawp. "I was being sarcastic. Do cotton candy grapes really exist?"

Baby Girl smiled. "They've been around a while. I'll get you some next time."

Bucky reclined on his elbow, resting his head in his hand. "Next time. I like the sound of that." He caught her eye and asked her the burning question. "So, you've decided to stay?"

Baby Girl pushed the empty glasses and fruit tray away, lying back on the deck. From this angle, with Bucky hovering over her, the sun didn't burn her eyes. She smiled a sad smile. "I don't really have a choice, do I?"

"You always have a choice," Bucky replied fervently. "We would never keep you against your will."

Baby Girl shook her head. "That's not what I meant. Quentin will always find me. He's possessive of his things."

"You're not a thing . And he doesn't deserve you."

"Maybe I deserve him."

Bucky looked into her bright eyes, thinly veiled with tears. He understood the feeling of helplessness—the intense guilt that followed. Even now, after being pardoned and making amends, Bucky couldn't stop guilt from seizing him in the dark hours of the night, when he was most vulnerable and exposed.

He often looked around and wondered if he deserved the life he had been given, this second chance that none of his victims had the fortune of. On more of a surface level, Bucky understood he was as much a victim as any other. A prisoner in his own body. He, and he alone, knew the struggle he had put up for almost twenty years before finally succumbing.

Bucky looked into her bright eyes, thinly veiled with tears, and saw himself reflected in them. He saw himself as a younger man—a better man—waging a war against invisible demons, and he understood. Trauma left its presence in various ways, and the evidence of it was scattered all across her vulnerable physique.

Bucky reached for a strand of her hair. "Sometimes, the hardest prison to escape from is the one we build in our own minds."

Baby Girl turned her head to look up at the sky. "That sounds like something you'd hear at the therapist's."

"And I'm giving it out for free," Bucky smiled.

They both said nothing for a short while, enjoying the sun, and soaking each other's company.

"He used to tell me I was beautiful every day." Her brows creased. "Well, not exactly. He never called me beautiful. He called me hot, and sexy, and fire—" she suddenly scoffed. "I hated that. 'You look fire.' One day, even that stopped. I remember thinking he didn't love me anymore because that's what attracted him in the first place."

Bucky played with her hair, letting her say what she needed to.

"Objectively, I know I'm attractive. I was told often enough by his friends. But I haven't felt pretty in a long time. And it disgusts me that I needed his validation to feel good about myself." Baby Girl took a deep breath, shaking slightly from the overload of emotions. "Sorry."

Making sure she was looking at him, Bucky leaned his head down and kissed the corner of her mouth. Her skin was soft and warm, and he lingered a moment longer than necessary. "You're beautiful," he murmured, savouring her sweet scent. "Absolutely gorgeous."

Baby Girl stiffened under him, eyes widened with surprise, soft lips parted in exhale. She blinked furiously, grabbing her necklace in a white-knuckled grip—a dainty gold crescent moon with black detailing. "I feel very hot," she croaked.

Indeed, Bucky could hear her heart furiously pumping blood through her veins due to his risky kiss. He bent down and placed another, dangerously closer to her lips than the previous. "Let's cool you down then," he smirked, grabbing her around the waist and launching both of them into the lake.

He lost his hold on her as they submerged in the cool water. Bucky kicked off the bottom and broke the surface, looking around for her. Baby Girl emerged a moment later, mascara lines running down her cheeks and brows creased in a furious frown.

She wiped her face and scoffed, "You absolute ass!" When Bucky laughed at her, she splashed him with a large swell of water, which went into his mouth. He choked and sputtered between laughter, welcoming her gentle abuse with a large smile.

"You said you were hot," he rationalized. "I only wanted to cool you down."

Baby Girl intensified her attack, wading closer until she was on top of him, attempting to submerge his head. "You idiot!" she yelled. "My clothes are all wet!"

"Pity," Bucky sputtered, trying to grab hold of her, but she was relentless in her assault, flailing her limbs in reckless abandon.

"Die!" she shrieked, managing to clamber on top of him. She wrapped her legs around his neck and pushed him under, painfully pulling at his roots in the process.

All this time, Bucky could've easily subdued her. But where was the fun in that? When her legs tightened a smidge too much, and Bucky could no longer breathe, he finally put an end to their little game. He clasped his hand around her ankle and gave a gentle pull. Baby Girl fell from his shoulders with a dramatic scream, and realizing she had far surpassed his patience, began to swim away.

Bucky grabbed her ankle once more, keeping her in place. "You brat," he hissed. "I'll teach you a lesson."

Her panicked laughter brought a large smile to his face. Seeing her happy because of him; after the horrible week she'd had, filled Bucky with indescribable pride.

"No!" she giggled. "No more. I'm tired." In fact, she had stopped swimming and was struggling to stay afloat.

Bucky lifted her into his arms, ignoring her feeble protests. "That's enough games for today," he announced, carrying her dripping body inside.

After drying themselves and changing, they settled in the kitchen for dinner. Baby Girl sat on the island with her head resting on her arms, watching Bucky cook.

"Where did you learn that?" she asked when he expertly chopped onions without looking.

Bucky shrugged. "My Ma taught me the basics when I was little. She said cooking was a survival skill."

The girl smiled. "Smart woman."

"That she was," he sighed. "I learned some more in the army. Then, after I was pardoned, I found all this time on my hands and all these cuisines I wanted to try. YouTube is very handy for that."

"That it is." She walked to his side, watching him saute shrimp for the pasta. "You sure you don't want me to help?"

"Yeah, you sit your pretty ass down and relax."

"Yes, Chef!" Baby Girl saluted, not bothering to sit. She exclaimed in delight when Bucky flipped the pan one-handed.

"Wanna see something cool?" he smirked, grabbing a bottle of Cognac from the pantry. "Step back."

Baby Girl shuffled back, and Bucky poured some Cognac into the saucepan. He was so focused on the task that he didn't notice Baby Girl inch closer. Bucky tilted the pan, letting it catch fire, and a beautiful flame blazed powerfully in front of him. He turned, wanting to see her reaction.

She stepped away with a shout, arms raised to protect her face. The flame fizzled away as quickly as it had ignited, but she was still shaking in fear. She fell against the island counter, sliding to her knees.

Bucky turned off the stove and sank next to her, grabbing her arms. "What's wrong?" he worried. "Are you hurt?"

Eyes shut tight, she shook her head, but she was still trembling. "I'm okay."

Bucky didn't believe her. He lifted her up and set her on the counter, sliding between her spread legs. "Hey," he soothed. "What happened just now?"

She shook her head, eyes still closed. "I don't know, I—" Baby Girl exhaled shakily, trying to calm down. "I wasn't expecting—I thought. I'm scared of fire," she eventually admitted.

Bucky frowned. He vividly remembered the night of the bonfire, where she chased AJ and Cass around the large fire. There was no hint of fear on her face that night, no discomfort or hesitancy. He told her as such.

"I don't know. I think it's because the bonfire was out in the open. It was controlled and didn't feel as dangerous. But indoor fires..." She left the next part unsaid, but Bucky understood.

His flambé trick took her by surprise at such close proximity. For a moment, she was transported to her childhood home to relive that fateful night. Bucky hugged her tight, soothing her with kind words of affirmation. "You're safe now. I won't let anything happen to you."

She clutched tightly onto him, burying her face in his neck, breathing heavily into his ears. "Sometimes I think I was supposed to die that night," she whimpered, making Bucky freeze. "I was supposed to die in that house with my family. But I didn't. I'm scared the past will catch up with me one day to finish what it started."

Bucky held on to her tighter.

"I'm scared I'll find myself in that house again, and no one will be there to push me out the window."

"That won't happen," he promised. "I won't let it."

She briefly said nothing, and Bucky worried he hadn't done enough to reassure her.

"Have you seen the house?" she suddenly asked.

"No," replied Bucky, running his hands through her hair. "But Sam told me it was nearby."

Baby Girl hummed. "It's on the far side of the lake, covered by trees. We shared the lake with the Wilsons. Did you know the house is still there? What's left of it anyway. They fixed the damaged parts and put it up for sale. I found out two years ago."

Bucky pulled away from her, meeting her gaze. "It's been up that long?"

"Longer," she replied. "It went up for sale six years ago, but no one will buy it. Who wants to live in a house where an entire family died?"

Bucky wanted to correct her. "You're not dead," he wanted to shout. "You're not at fault. You deserve so much." 

"If I had the money..." she shook her head and dismissed the thought.

Would she buy the house if she could? he wondered. The home where she grew up and created happy memories with her siblings.

Bucky thought about his house in Brooklyn Heights, which had been turned into a poor excuse of a strip mall. The house where he had sleepovers with Steve. Where Rebecca hosted her friends, and Bucky hid underneath her bed to try and scare them. Where he snuck in his prom date, Dorothy, through his bedroom window when his parents were out of town. The time he and Steve were playing baseball on the street, and Steve hit the ball straight through the front window.

Would he buy that house if he could? If it hadn't been bulldozed? He decided he would. He had the desire, and he sure as hell had the money.

"There's no point in dwelling on the past," he parroted. Occasionally, his new therapist offered advice that Bucky kept close to his heart. "You're alive to see another day. Make the most of it."

Baby Girl smiled softly. "You always know just what to say," she teased. "I will."

Bucky was consoled by her steady heartbeat and easy manner. "It's a god-given talent," he shrugged, instantly rewarded by soft giggles and an unenthusiastic shove at his chest.

Once the adrenaline from the scare dissipated, Bucky finally noticed their proximity. Her thighs were bracketing his, and his arms were caging her body. Their breaths mingled in the air between them.

"You're very modest," Baby Girl croaked, jerking away.

Bucky hastily turned to the stove, turning it on and resuming making dinner. "With good reason," he replied, clearing his throat.

He chastised himself while the shrimps finished cooking. Baby Girl had just gotten out of an abusive relationship. Now was not the time to be sweet on her—hovering so close he could smell her shampoo and the scent of her skin.

Wait. Was she out of an abusive relationship? Baby Girl had emphasized that she was only with Quentin because he threatened Sam, Sarah, and the boys. Except, that was no longer an issue as a plan was underway. Bucky knew it, Sam knew it, but did Quentin? Did Quentin assume that his dismissal from the Wilson Residence a few days prior was a fluke? If Quentin returned thinking he could whisk her away as if she owed him anything, he would be sorely mistaken. Bucky would make sure of it.

But where did that leave them? There was obvious attraction—though Bucky was unsure if it was appropriate to act on, considering the circumstances—and they were legal adults, but the path forward felt very unclear. While Baby Girl hadn't shown any unpleasant reactions to Bucky's past, she hadn't particularly reassured him either that it did not bother her. Was it fair to her to be caught up in his mess, along with her own?

So many questions, and yet the answers felt out of reach. Bucky turned around. Baby girl was sitting on the kitchen table, and she gave Bucky a smile that answered at least one question. 

Did she trust him? Her smile said, "Yes. Yes, she did."

Another day passed like all the others. Had it really been over a week since she arrived in Louisiana? Sam and Sarah were still away on "business," and the boys were still at their sleepover—ridiculous really—she knew it was summer break, but there had to be a limit. She and Bucky were still alone together.

Bucky. His name made her burn with embarrassment. Lately, anything and everything related to him made her temperature rise a few degrees. His smile, his presence, his proximity . His hands holding her tight to his chest. Embarrassment always closely followed such thoughts, though for reasons that deeply ashamed her because never, in the entirety of her relationship with Quentin, did she feel like this. Beautiful, and desired, and wanted, and free . Happy.

She had invested around six to seven years in her on-again, off-again relationship with Quentin Beck and never managed to blush as furiously as she did in the presence of Bucky Barnes. The White Wolf. War hero. Sergeant James Buchanan Barnes.

While most girls gushed over Captain America in high school, Baby Girl cut out pictures of his best friend from her textbook and plastered them inside her locker. It was a stupid girl crush, one she quickly outgrew as she matured into a young woman. However, the fascination remained. During the past week, this fascination had transformed from a small, barely there spark to a blazing fire. The gruesome analogy was not lost on her, yet it was the only way to vividly describe her deepening feelings.

Bucky Barnes had lit her heart on fire. And that terrified her. Not because she was afraid of men after her relationship with Quentin, and not because of Bucky's unfortunate past, but because of her unfortunate reality. What did she have to offer a man like Bucky Barnes? She had nothing. No job, no prospects, no backbone with which to confidently regard the world. She had spent six years with an abusive man, and she could have left at any moment—could have gathered the courage to trust her brother Sam to take care of all of them. She hadn't taken the opportunity when presented with it, and there was this man, who hadn't been given any semblance of reprieve, and he was stronger for it.

So, no. While there was obvious attraction between them both, she was not sure it was appropriate to act on. She could never deserve the likes of him.

The path ahead was unclear, but somehow she knew he would be there to guide her. And when he chucked her into the lake that evening, laughing loudly at her temper, she smiled back, hoping her face screamed, "I trust you. I do." 

After an uneventful dinner, Bucky sheepishly announced he had to leave. "I forgot I promised Carlos I'd help with his car."

She raised an unimpressed brow, fixing him with a stern look. He had promised to take her shopping for a new phone, and while she wasn't looking forward to a ride on his death trap, she really wanted her games back. "I didn't know you were a mechanic along with being a war hero."

"I'm not a war hero," he responded mechanically.

The words burst from her lips. "If it weren't for you," she snapped, "Doctor Zola would've been on his merry way to design new techniques to destroy the human race. You stopped him. If that's not heroic, I don't know what is."

"I'm not a war hero," Bucky said again after getting over the initial shock at her outburst.

"But you're a mechanic?"

"I'm not that either," he huffed. "Mr. Thurow needs me to tow his car."

"Excuse me?"

"The company overcharges and always ends up damaging the vehicle. He asked me for a favour."

"Do we have a tow truck?" she asked.

Bucky raised his left hand. "I have a metal arm," he pointed out. "And super strength. I can easily tow a car."

Baby Girl was speechless. "How long will you be?"

Bucky checked his watch. "An hour? Less, if I manage to not get roped into game night."

"Game night? It's a weekday."

"Every night's a game night at the Thurow's," Bucky responded seriously. "We'll get your phone first thing tomorrow morning."

"Promise?" she asked his retreating figure.

"Promise," he replied. "Lock the door, alright? And keep the blinds down."

"Alright, Dad," she retorted, but he had already left.

Baby Girl took a deep breath. This was the first time she had been alone in weeks. She sat down on the couch and closed her eyes. A minute passed, then two, then three. Five minutes later, she opened her eyes and saw only thirty seconds had passed. She groaned from boredom and flopped over the armrest. She was loath to admit that she dearly missed Bucky. There was something in his air and manner of walking that brought peace to her inner turmoil.

She sighed, resorting to cleaning the kitchen, which was not dirty in the least. In the middle of her furiously scrubbing the countertop with a sponge, the landline chimed annoyingly from the other room. "Hello," she answered, twirling the cord with her pinky. "Who's this?"

"Baby Girl!" the jolly voice on the other line bellowed. "I was hoping you'd pick up."

"Sam!" The two talked, catching up on the past few days. It turned out Sam was in Washington. "How's Sarah?" she asked. "Is she enjoying her time away from the boys? They're lovely, but they can be a nuisance."

Sam grumbled something unintelligible under his breath.

"What?"

"She's on a date," he groaned. "Look, I'm happy for her. But I didn't need to see her exchanging spit with a stranger."

"Poor you," she giggled. "And lucky Sarah! Wowza!"

Sam laughed on the other line. "It's great to hear you happy after so long."

"Hmm," Baby Girl hummed, feeling momentarily guilty. "By the way, I thought you and Sarah were going to New Orleans. What are you doing in Washington?"

"He didn't tell you," Sam said with surprise. "I thought he would."

"Tell me what?"

"I know about Quentin," Sam sighed. "I know you're still dating him."

Her breath got stuck in her throat. "He told you?" she asked in disbelief.

"Don't be mad at him," Sam pleaded. "I made him tell me."

There was shuffling on the other end. A loud sniffle.

"I'm sorry I wasn't there for you. I'm sorry you felt like Quentin was the only one you could count on."

"What exactly did Bucky say?" Baby Girl questioned, thinking Sam was too calm about the situation.

"He said Quentin was blackmailing you to stay with him."

Baby Girl sighed. "Is that all? Did he say anything else?"

"Like what?"

"Like... nothing." She realized Bucky had not disclosed any of the more sensitive subject matter. Not the abuse, nor Quentin's impromptu visit. "It's nothing. I'm sorry I kept this from you."

Sam sighed heavily on the other line. "That's in the past. We can only move forward from here on out."

Baby Girl nodded even though Sam couldn't see her. "You have a good friend," she told him. "Bucky's doing a lot to help. He came up with the plan to distract Quentin with "bigger fish," as he put it. Quentin will forget all about me if he finds something more worthwhile. But I'm sure you know all about that."

"He said what? That's not what we planned!" Sam exclaimed. He swore under his breath. "I need to take this call. It's Congress—I'll tell you soon, alright? I'll call you right back."

"Sure," she said, slightly flustered. "I'll be waiting."

Sam ended the call, and she put the receiver down. The second she did, the landline immediately started ringing.

"What took you so long?" she joked with a laugh. "I've been waiting hours for your call."

"You have? I knew you missed me."

Baby Girl felt her heart drop to her stomach. The voice on the other line was not quite as deep, or quite as warm. It was low and raspy, eliciting goosebumps across her arms and bad memories across her skin.

She made to end the call, but his shrill warning stopped her. "You don't want to do that," Quentin hissed.

"What do you want?" she managed to ask between ragged breaths.

"Straight to the point, I see. You've really changed."

"Fuck you!" she seethed. "I asked you a question." She was surprised by her resolve, and so was he.

"What, you're swearing now? That's not the girl I know."

Her body was trembling with adrenaline. "Tell me what you want, or I'll end the call."

She could feel his anger through the line. "I want to talk to you in person."

"Over your dead body!" she yelled.

Quentin was oddly calm with his response. "No, not over mine."

It was so obviously a bait—one she couldn't help but fall for. "What do you mean?"

"It's a shame," he sighed, "that I'm meeting them for the first time under such shit circumstances. They're cute kids. Would've loved New York."

Time seemed to stop.

"Have you boys ever seen the Statue of Liberty? I'll take you once your Aunt comes back home. We can all go together."

There was a muffled noise, then the slam of a door shutting close. It felt like someone had dumped a bucket of ice water over Baby Girl. Her muscles tightened painfully, and she collapsed onto the couch.

"No," she whispered.

Quentin laughed on the other end. "Cat got your tongue?"

Baby Girl closed her eyes, feeling tears of frustration well in the corners. This is why she kept her distance. This is why she wanted to go back to Quentin and back to New York. But she let herself hope in Bucky's presence, let herself believe that she could have a family while keeping her freedom. "You monster," she hissed. "Don't you dare touch them." But there wasn't any heat behind her words, only the bitter taste of defeat.

He tasted it too, and oh, how he reveled in it! Quentin laughed again, low and menacing. "I told you I wouldn't let you leave so easily. Meet me in person if you want to see your dear nephews again. And don't you dare tell anyone," he hissed. "This is between you and me."

Baby Girl ignored his warning and reached into her back pocket to grab her phone and tell Bucky. But her hand came back empty. She didn't have a phone; she didn't even have Bucky's number. And did she really want to risk the boys' lives by going behind Quentin's back? He didn't want them anyway, he only wanted her.

With tears burning her eyes and a fire blazing in her chest, Baby Girl asked, "Where do you want to meet?"

On the other end, Quentin smiled, knowing he had won.

Bucky reached into his back pocket and grabbed his phone. He scrolled through his contacts, realizing too late that he didn't have her number. His face fell, and he sighed deep and slow, garnering the attention of the room. Carlos Thurow had invited some friends for a game of poker and forced Bucky to play a round with them. That was four rounds ago.

"What's got you so down, Sergeant?" Carlos teased. "There a girl waiting for you at home?" The men laughed and cheered, barraging Bucky with questions.

He found himself smiling, and finished his beer in one swig. "I do, actually," he said, grabbing his jacket and walking to the door. "I should get going."

The men cheered him on, and Bucky left feeling light and tingly. It wasn't from the alcohol—Bucky couldn't get drunk anymore—it was her. His Baby Girl.

The walk to Sam's was warm. The stars were out, the sky clear, and the wind blew gently, ruffling the trees around him. Bucky took a deep breath, smelling the ocean air and the earthy trees, listening to the faint sounds of crickets chirping and owls hooting. A night had never been sweeter.

Once at the house, Bucky lightened his footsteps and creeped onto the porch, feeling mischievous and wanting to spook Baby Girl. The living room light was on, and he could see the television playing silently through the thin curtain. Bucky placed a hand on the door, frowning when it creeped open at the slightest touch.

Didn't he tell her to lock the door? And to leave it completely open? Delacroix was a small community inhabited by kind and lawful people, but there was a crazy ex on the loose. He expected Baby Girl to be more careful than that.

Bucky decided he would give her a proper scare for her carelessness and slipped through the entryway. He sneaked into the living room, arms raised like in the movies, and—

She wasn't there. Bucky quickly scanned his surroundings. TV playing, couch pushed askew, the landline dangling from its cord, the edge of the carpet flipped over as if someone had run over it. Bucky rushed to check the rest of the house, the bedrooms, the washroom—he even checked the lake. Nothing.

He went back to the living room, senses dialed to the maximum. There was no sign of a forced entry, and though a scuffle was apparent, there were no prints or marks that indicated there had been another person. Unless they covered their tracks. But then why leave the carpet overturned, the couch askew? Why make it obvious something had happened?

Perhaps Bucky was overthinking, and Baby Girl had run to the store to grab something. She had already proved herself to be impulsive and clumsy. It wouldn't be a huge stretch to believe she forgot to lock the door behind her in a hurry.

Except, she wouldn't have left without her wallet. Bucky bent down to grab her purse from under the coffee table, feeling dread engulf him at the sight. Palms sticky and breaths uneven, he looked around the room once more. This time, he noticed something he hadn't before, a hastily scribbled note peeking out from under the landline.

Bucky snatched the note, careful not to crease it.

"I'm sorry," it began. "I had no choice. He has the boys." 

Bucky's mind began to race with questions. Most namely, "Where?"

It was then that his senses picked up on something new. The faint scent of smoke. Bucky dropped the note and ran out the back, scanning the horizon. There, on the opposite side of the lake, a thick column of smoke billowed from behind the treeline. The beginnings of a large fire. Baby Girl's house was set ablaze, glowing brightly in the dark. Bucky's heart dropped to his stomach, and he ran.

Note: So... I lied. There will need to be another part.

Ao3│Wattpad│Ko-fi

Main Masterlist │Part 1 — Part 2 — Part 3

Comments and Reblogs are appreciated!! 💜

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[chaifootsteps]

I think given the leaked potential song Blitzøs behaviour in the finale makes sense. Looking at stolas with total pity, trying to smile at him, and when Octavia points at him, Blitzø looks away, guilty as if any of stolas choices and family drama is his fault. When it actually is not. And to make it hurt more stolas is refusing to look at him, saying he would never choose him, and indirectly saying Blitzø brought no goodness to his life.

Blitzø feels like he has to be as kind and good to stolas from now on as possible, be his hero and provide him a happier life, no matter what stolas does to him, because stolas has trauma. Yknow what that reminds me of? His dynamic with Loona. Who, as the stolas stans screeched at anyone who dare merely point out Stella was a teen parent too, gets absolved with abuse apologism because she has a sad backstory.

In a way Seeing Stars showed what kind of ‘family’ dynamic Blitzø can hope for. Be verbally and physically assaulted by Loona for kindly asking her to try a little bit at life, in the free job he gave her, with plenty of compliments thrown in, and then be further intimidated and verbally put down by a second abuser, stolas, who blames Blitzø for all of his mistakes and problems with his daughter. Reminder of how absolutely terrified of stolas Blitzø was in that ep, despite him missing Via not being his or MnMs fault, it was Loonas for ignoring her. The entire episode he gets physically hurt, abused, and blamed for everyone else’s actions that aren’t his fault, and he does favours for them and apologises to them the entire time. At the end Loona hurts him again just for trying, and stolas gets a hug reward just for, existing. Blitzø and Octavia don’t owe these two abusive people apologies at all, and the writers and fandom hate them both openly, I wish i could save them. And any time I see human AU art of this “”””family””” I can’t help but wish I could save Blitzø from these crazy white people who expect endless servitude from him.

Season 2 is rightly called a season of Blitzø torture p*rn, and seeing stars was the beginning.

So what’s the takeaway message, if someone is abused by someone else and they abuse you—saying anything to them, even criticism, instead of coddling them, loving them, and giving them everything they want—makes you their “abuser” too and you must apologise? This show is fucking disgusting.

It's absolutely disgusting, and you just know that in all likelihood, we haven't seen the end of it. I think Apology Tour's going to be especially rough.

[luxraine]

"Why is loving you not fair?"

Earth 1610! Miles x Reader: angst with a happy ending.

word count: 2.3k

Author's note: This is inspired by littyhoney. As my first post, feedback would be appreciated. I sincerely apologize for any of the poor spanish translation as I am not fluent, but I still tried for the sake of the character. I hope you enjoy this one as much as I enjoyed writing it. ♡

You, [Name] [Last Name] grew up in Brooklyn, New York. The city that is so compelling, with numerous crimes making appearances over the years. But the said city wasn’t any less beautiful with Spiderman, serving as its hero for more than 10 years and preventing fear and terror from taking over the citizens. Growing up, your parents have been out of the picture due to an Incident involving Spiderman and the villains who he was fighting against. No matter how hard it was to force yourself to mature faster than any normal kid resulting from the absence of your parents, you never blamed Spiderman for failing to save them. You understood the responsibilities that come with being a hero and to your eyes, he will always be. You have an older sibling, who is the reason why you managed to keep your childhood home. But the only thing is that they live in another state because of their job. It didn’t make you feel lonely, though. And you owe it to the Davis, whose family your parents were close with. Mrs. Rio, who treats you so kindly and invites you in for every lunch and dinner to eat the meals she deliciously makes and Mr. Jefferson, who never forgets to make you feel welcome in his home.

But on top of that… Miles. Miles Morales, the courteous boy you did everything together with, the overprotective boy who instructed you to update him on whatever you do and wherever you go, and the boy who has your heart.

Having to live and raise yourself on your own, you believe in achieving things through hard work. That’s how it is and always has for you. However, there is one thing that you’ll never be able to have.

His heart.

No matter how much love, passion, and patience you put into it.

Ever since he got bitten by a radioactive spider, which alternated his dna and gave him spider-like abilities, you couldn’t be more proud of Miles. The boy has always been wanting to prove himself throughout his life, that by doing the things he’s passionate about can bring changes into his life that is full of expectations. Ever since you found out, you have been with him through thick and thin. Never once doubting his capabilities. Being in your family who has a record for being geniuses in science and technology allowed you to be a use of your best friend, Spiderman. By giving database information to be able to catch bad guys, to adding features to his spider suit. You were the one constantly making adjustments to his web shooters, by enhancing its strength and expanding its abilities. You provided him with support and company, along with loving him silently over the years. Being involved with the spider allowed him to meet Gwen Stacy, another spider with blonde hair and a pair of blue eyes. A girl who Miles seemed to fall head over heels in such an unbelievably short amount of time. Frequently fonding, talking, and making sketches about her.

“In every universe, Gwen Stacy falls for Spiderman.” You wish the universe favoured you like how Miles’ parents clearly favoured you over Gwen the moment she displayed an ill mannered gesture by addressing them by their first names. But at the end of the day, you knew that Mrs. and Mr. Davis would eventually have to come to an acceptance. A nature every parent would have seeing their son being fond of a girl so dearly.

…

You woke up in a dark, cold room. With the flickering of the little light that illuminates the place and the incredibly tense atmosphere surrounding you, you recall the events that previously took place. You arrived back into your dimension. At least you thought you did, as something was incredibly wrong when you saw the figure of Uncle Aaron, well and alive. And something was certainly wrong when you saw the mural of the remembrance of Mr. Jefferson, and beside it was you. You were dead, apparently. The spider that bit Miles wasn’t from your dimension and when it scanned him, you two were sent where the spider was originally from. You didn’t go back home.

You studied the stone cold, dark room, the sense of familiarity creeped up. You recognized that this was Uncle Aaron’s place, where Miles would often go to hang out with his uncle, who he can be himself around with. Your eyes caught the sight of the figure who was tied up against the punching bag. “Miles!” you called, attempting to wake him up from unconsciousness. You were about to approach him when an arm grabbed you all of a sudden, yanking you back gently. Your eyes widened, it was someone in the familiar Prowler suit. However, the height and the figure of the man in the suit tells you that unlike in your dimension, this was not Uncle Aaron. “...Shh, mi querida.” (...Shh, my darling). Your blood turned cold, that voice… no no no. “Let me go!” You managed to let out, your heart beating at a fast rate as you hoped that what you were feeling was wrong. “I’m afraid, I cannot do that.” The alluring voice chuckled so softly. You repeatedly tried pulling back your arm from his grasp. You can’t stay here any longer as danger awaits for Mr. Jefferson and Mrs. Rio. You have to escape with Miles and save them. The hand covered in dark gloves moved towards your cheeks, caressing it. You tried to budge but that moved him to push you towards the table, trapping you in between his arms.

You came back to him and he won’t let you leave ever again.

“W… Who are you?” He adjusted the mask that is covering his face, revealing two long braids, and

“No!” … confirming your suspicion. “I’m Miles Morales. But you… you can call me the Prowler.” Your heart broke at the sight of this Miles. He seems rather solemn, than giving off a bright energy like the Miles you have. And the usual glint in his eyes that makes you melt is missing. They no longer shine. “Miles…” you trailed off. Oh how he missed you calling out his name so captivating. “Soy yo, hermosa.” (It’s me, beautiful.) He responded, eyes not leaving the sight of your beautiful, well built perfect body. You didn’t change, still being the [Name] he loved and believed that he would never stop loving. “Miles, you have to let us go.” You begged. “Why would I do that?” He tilted his head, “It is my job… as the Prowler.” Your eyes widened in epiphany, “There’s a world out there with no Spiderman to protect them because it bit you instead!”. “I am the Prowler because this world offers nothing but agony. It took my dad and it took you from me.” The crack in his voice while mentioning you made your heart drop. Like you and your Miles, he too, had his [Name] and they were also close-

Now you felt your heart being torn apart. The names… the endearing names he has called you!“Now that you’re back, I’ll make sure this time that you’ll never leave.” You turn to look at the burning desire painted deep in his eyes, staring at you. “Hey, bonita…” (Hey, pretty…) He moved his thumb over the corner of your lip, “You never seem to change, do you? … still looking just as pretty as you were the day you left.” His lips curled up into a smirk.

He said the words that would make your heart sing, If only he was the Miles from your world.

“...Please, you have to let us go. He’s needed before anything bad happens to his father.” You whispered weakly. Your heart, your voice, everything wanted to give up but you remained wanting to be strong for both you and Miles, who is not yet awake. Miles’ eyes narrowed while glancing at his other self, he couldn’t hide the envy he was feeling. He let out a hum, turning back to you. “The love you feel for him is deep within your heart. Although he doesn’t bear the same feelings as you do.” Your heart clenched at his words. “If he really did, I would’ve felt him break. The same way I did the day you were gone! But he didn’t feel anything nor spared your mural a glance, instead his gaze was focused on his father.” He knew you were about to break, seeing your glossy eyes. He’d never forgive the other Miles for being the reason for your tears. “Be with me, baby.” He leaned in.

There was the man of your dreams finally kissing you the way you’ve always been wishing to. Your feelings were finally reciprocated. But no, this isn’t the Miles that you grew loving with all your heart. Just another version of him. Warm tears threaten to fall as you grab the back of his head, tracing the pattern of his beautiful braid and the kiss deepens just a few seconds before you pull away. The boy may have the same features as the one you loved, but you remind yourself that he is not your Miles, a heart wrenching reminder that you have to endure as you stay longing for his feelings for you. Hopelessly wishing that your Miles have felt the same way about you as this Miles does.

Because of your strong connection with Miles Morales, you find yourself getting attached, no matter what versions of him. Your heart couldn’t turn away no matter what… Even at the fact that he committed a series of crimes, and is a threat to the city he was fated to be protecting, if it wasn’t for the spider biting your Miles instead of him.

You wanted to mend his broken heart, put the pieces back together. However, you noticed the pattern and it got you asking, “Why has the universe been cruel to you and him?” Both being the reason for each other’s wounded, bleeding hearts.

The tears finally escaped your eyes, He swore they were shining jewels under the moonlight.

“Miles, because of me you changed…” You weakly said, “can feel nothing but hatred in your heart. You’ve caused fear to the innocents!” You two weren’t aware of the previous twitching of the other Miles, tied up. He regained his consciousness, finding you being pinned down by a guy who looks just like him. Guilt consumed him whole as he felt the pit on his stomach watching the other version of him shower you with love and he was not afraid of expressing them at all.

“Why is loving you not fair?” Your voice quavered, exclaiming the words of your weeping heart. He’s come to realize that you’ve had the heart of gold that allowed you to love him unconditionally. But in return, you suffered. The cost of loving him is to suffer immeasurably that you were willing to pay every second.

He couldn’t stomach the way your voice drips with honey as you say his name, “Miles”, while referring to the other version of him.

Maybe his other self is the answer to his confused feelings. Why the memory of his parents gushing at him, telling him how much they would love you as their daughter-in-law is playing on the back of his head while Introducing Gwen to his parents.

…Why your voice, along with your promise of never leaving him, were playing over Gwen’s voice of pleas before snapping her webs off of him.

You don’t know what you’ve done to his heart when you had fearlessly stood up for him, letting him know that he will never be alone when every other spider went against him.

In every universe, Gwen Stacy falls for spiderman. However…

Why [name]?

Why not Gwen?

Is what he finds himself asking all the time.

He sympathises with the broken version of him who lost his version of you. However, Miles could no longer stand the thought of losing you as well. He no longer wanted to waste the chance to be the man you deserve.

Miles wanted to be worthy of the love that is as pure as yours.

His eyes were focused on you two as he activated his electricity powers. Next thing, you felt what seemed like an explosion. As the other Miles gets knocked out from the sudden impact, your Miles swiftly wraps his arm around your waist as he uses his web to open the window and swings both of you out of the building. You look at him, he didn’t utter a word but he was quietly sobbing and swinging past every building at a fast rate.

You landed on a rooftop. You turned to Miles, who was still quiet. “Miles?” You called out to him. He returned your gaze with an equal pained look in his eyes. You were surprised when he suddenly grabbed you and wrapped his arms around you so tightly like you’d disappear.

Your eyes widened as he trembled, “I’m so sorry, [Name]. I truly am. I took you for granted... I’m in love with you, always have.” Your heartbeat quickens while hearing his words, “I’m sorry that I’ve hurt you because I didn’t know any better. For Invalidating my feelings because I was confused.” He took your hand, wrapping it with his own, “You were my first love, and everyday I’ll prove that you’re the only one.” You stared at his eyes, finding nothing but sincerity and the fear of losing you. “Let me love you, baby. Please, love me again.” He trailed off, pressing your foreheads together. You brought your arms up to wrap them around his neck as you brought your bodies, pressing tightly against each other’s.

There you are, there you are… always there with open arms. Your pure love is what constantly reminds him why he fell for you.

“I never stopped loving you, Miles.” Both of your hands cupped his cheeks. He leaned in, pressing your lips together. He inserted his tongue inside, deepening the passionate kiss you two shared. He was afraid to let go.

In every universe, Gwen Stacy falls for Spiderman. But the universe planned [Name] [Last name] to captivate the heart of Miles Morales.

[syren201]

Cat Got Your Tongue?

Okay, I know what I SAID what kind of writing I would be posting but this idea popped into my head the other night and I couldn't stop thinking about it. Also if someone would teach me about to make my posts all fancy, I would appreciate it!

~

AU | catburglar!reader | fem!reader | slight Aventurine x Reader (all flirting) | mention of stealing, theft | If I left anything out, I apologize

~

Cat Got Your Tongue?

"Yes..." A satisfied smile crossed her face as the lock to the safe clicked open. Slowly, she let the door swing itself open, hoping the noise wouldn't draw too much attention. Her hand was just reaching into the safe and pulling a bag out, when a low cough made her turn her head.

"And what do we have here?"

She slowly stood up and turned, her eyes falling on the man across the room. The IPC member whose home this was, the one she specifically targeted because of his rumoured wealth. Well not really a rumour.

A smile slid onto her face as she observed the blonde man with the interesting eyes. "You must be Aventurine. Don't mind me, I'm just grabbing a couple things and going." She kept her voice breathy as she usually did when she was in this persona of hers, the one that broke into houses and took what she wanted.

She expected him to get angry. Maybe try to stop her. Instead he slowly approached her with a smile on his face. "How about I save you some trouble. I know what you're after. Do you really think I would keep the real thing in there? Give me more credit then that." His eyes seemed to light up at her confused expression and he took the opportunity to nod at the bag in her hands. "Everything in there is worthless."

She shook her head. "You're bluffing."

Aventurine shook his head as he stared at her through his glasses. "You don't have to believe me. I'm willing to bet you don't. Why a not make a game out of it?"

She tilted her head curiously. "What kind of game?"

He grinned at her as he approached her. "Take that bag, see if I'm telling the truth. Once I'm proven correct, return to me. I might want a favour from you."

She walked over to him, stopping less than a foot away from him. "And if you're lying?"

Aventurine shrugged. "Then you've earned yourself bag full of valuables. Although I can assure you that I'll be seeing you again very soon if you do."

She smiled and took another step toward him. "As tempting as that offer is..." She reached forward and ran a gloved finger down his chest. "I'm not in the habit of being in a position where I owe anyone anything." She flashed him a sly smile before turning.

"Leaving so soon? It's not like a thief to leave empty handed."

"Who says I'm empty handed?" She turned back around swinging something around her finger. Aventurine's eyes narrowed on it and his eyes widened. His head snapped down to his wrist to see that his watch was gone.

"I'll see you around Mr. Aventurine." She turned and hopped out of his window before he could do anything other than watch her disappear into the cool night.

~~

<3

[literallyjustanerd]

Should've Switched Majors (Clone Shenanigans)

Summary: A very unfortunate grad student at the University of Coruscant is just trying to finish her thesis for her Investigative Journalism degree. Unbeknownst to her, she's picked the galaxy's worst interview subjects.

Words: 1,492

Characters: Commander Cody, Captain Rex, Domino twins, Waxer, Commander Fox, Commander Bly

University of Coruscant School of Arts Student Number: 218249662 Student Name: Lila Un’qara Course: Masters of Media and Communication – Majoring in Investigative Journalism Final Thesis: Unsung Heroes: Silenced Voices From The Republic’s Front Lines

[Recording Start]

Lila: Okay. The time is now… 0935 standard hours. We’re here in Briefing Room B of the GAR headquarters on Coruscant level 5127, where I’ve been graciously allowed time to speak with some of the Republic’s most decorated soldiers. To start, I’m sitting down with CC-2224 of the 212th Battalion. Though if I’ve been informed correctly, I believe you go by Cody?

CC-2224: Commander is fine, thank you.

L: Oh. Uh, right. My apologies, Commander.

CC-2224: Don’t mention it.

L: So… Your records indicate you’ve been in active service since the beginning of the war.

CC-2224: That’s right. I was decanted from Kamino with the first batch of Clone Commanders.

L: I’m looking at a transcript of your prior operations. There are some major battles here – Christophsis, Ryloth, Saleucami… You’re a true veteran.

CC-2224: As much a veteran as any of us can be, I suppose.

L: And as a Marshal Commander with such a prolific record, you must be highly regarded among your peers and superiors?

CC-2224: My brothers trust me as their Commander.

L: And your GAR command? Generals and Admirals? The Jedi?

CC-2224: …What about them?

L: Do they afford you the same level of trust?

CC-2224: That’s… [pause] Yes, I am trusted. My decisions and conduct are respected as any Commander’s wound be.

[Audio file is silent for 6 seconds]

CC-2224: There are those for whom it takes more for us clones to prove our competence. I don’t allow that to impact my performance. My record speaks for itself.

L: Must get frustrating, though. The pressure to demonstrate your worth. Probably leaves you without much time to let your guard down.

CC-2224: It’s our job. We do it with pride.

L: Surely you can’t keep that up all the time, though? It’s only human to want to have a little fun.

CC-2224: [clearing throat] I maintain a respectable bearing at all times, as do my men. We were trained from birth to uphold the highest standards of professional conduct and I take pride in the reputation of the 212th Battalion as highly proficient, honourable, and—”

[Sound on audio file is briefing room door opening]

CT-2534 (“Waxer”): Hey, Cody…? Remember that thing you said not to do? Uhm, Boil’s in medbay and Fox says you gotta go bail Wooley out before—oh. Uh, hello.

CC-2224: [heavy sigh]

CT-2534 (“Waxer”): Is… this being recorded?

[Recording stop] [Recording start]

L: Thank you for moving our appointment up, Troopers. The Commander had to leave on some… unexpected business.

ARC-5555: Ha! Guess Waxer wasn’t bluffing after all.

ARC-1409: You owe me five credits.

L: May I refer to you as ARC Troopers, or do you prefer—

ARC-5555: Fives, please.

ARC-1409: Echo.

L: Great. So, the two of you serve under General Skywalker?

ARC-5555: Didn’t start off that way, but now we do, yeah.

ARC-1409: Captain Rex picked us personally to join the 501st as ARC troopers. We joined for him. But serving under General Skywalker is an honour, too.

L: Do you feel he respects your input as clones?

ARC-5555: You kidding? He’d be dead ten times over without us, and he knows it!

ARC-1409: Some of General Skywalker’s strategies are… hit or miss. But we owe him our lives as much as he owes us his.

ARC-5555: Nah. It’s 23-19 in our favour. I’ve counted.

ARC-1409: 23? You’re counting the Naboo thing?

ARC-5555: Far as I’m concerned, that’s the closest the General’s come to karking it.

L: Can you elaborate? What happened on Naboo?

[ARC-5555 begins to speak but is silenced by ARC-1409. Sound on audio file is ARC-1409 hitting ARC-5555 on the back of the head]

ARC-1409: Sorry. Sworn to secrecy. ARC Trooper’s honour.

L: Seems like you’re pretty close with your General. Can you tell me—

ARC-5555: So you’re a student, right? Coruscant University? What’s it like?

L: What’s… Uhm, it’s an excellent school. Good facilities, knowledgeable professors, the courses are highly-regarded. Now, if we could get back to—

ARC-1409: So –sorry, I don’t mean to interrupt, I just– you can study anything you want? You just get to pick?

L: …Yes, that’s how it works.

ARC-1409: What if you don’t like what you pick?

L: You can change your course. Back on topic, we were discussing—

ARC-5555: You can change your course? You’re allowed to do that? Whenever you want?

L: Yup.

ARC-1409: Did you ever do that?

L: I’m starting to wish I had.

ARC-5555: Wish we could’ve done that. I’d have been a Naval Officer. Way better uniform.

ARC-1409: [chuckling] The navs would hate you! They’d have you decomm’ed on the first day for unruly behaviour.

ARC-5555: The navs wish they had the honour of my unruly behaviour.

L: Can we get back on topic. Please?

ARC-1409: What was the topic, again?

L: [heavy sigh]

ARC-5555: Hey… the 501st is on shore leave for the next two days. What are you doing tonight?

L: …Uh.

ARC-1409: We could…. continue the interview over a couple drinks at 79’s?

L: I… hm.

[Recording stop] [Recording start]

L: As a member of the Coruscant Guard, you’ve seen more than most other clones of the galaxy’s capital and its senate. Commander Fox, has this given you any opinions you feel are different to other clones about the war?

CC-1010: No.

L: Nothing? You don’t think being able to witness the senate debates has given you any sort of insight into the politics at play here?

CC-1010: Nope.

[Sound on audio file is CC-1010 sipping from a mug of caf for approximately 9 seconds]

L: Uhm. Well. There aren’t many people, clone or otherwise, who get such a close audience with Chancellor Palpatine. Are you and the other Coruscant Guard troopers close with him?

CC-1010: Hm. No.

L: …Thank you for your time.

[Recording stop] [Recording start]

L:  Captain Rex. I appreciate your willingness to, uh, actually speak to me. Have you given much thought to what might happen once the war is over?

CT-7567: Of course. All of us have. But you tend to stop thinking about that pretty early on in your service.

L: Oh? Why is that, do you think?

CT-7567: There’s just not much of a point to it, really. We’ve got too much on our mind every day trying to keep our heads up and keep ourselves and our brothers alive. The end of the war, it’s just not really a factor for us.

L: Right. You’ve been fighting for years now. That must take a toll.

CT-7567: I suppose, but in a sense, it’s just our way of life. We’ve never known anything besides war. How can we imagine a life after it? To a clone, the galaxy has always been, and will always be, at war. I don’t think I would know any other way to navigate the world.

L: That’s… actually very insightful.

CT-7567: You sound surprised?

L: Never mind. Does—does it frighten you, then? Not knowing what might come after?

CT-7567: Not at all. The future might be an unknown, but whatever happens, I know—

[Sound on audio file is the briefing room door opening]

CC-2224: Your boys are at it again.

CT-7567: [groan] Which ones?

CC-2224: All of them. They’re in the quad, Wooley said something about a stolen speeder.

CT-7567: So it’s your boys, then. Your boys who just got bailed out of Corrie holding this morning?

[Sound on audio file is CT-7567 standing]

L: Wait, no, we were just getting somewhere, don’t—

CC-2224: My men stepped in to control the situation.

CT-7567: Face it, your troops kriff around and blame mine when the osik hits the filtration system.

[Sound on audio file is CT-7567 and CC-2224 bumping the microphone as they move toward the door]

L: Captain? Commander? Please, if we could at least finish what we—

CC-2224: All I’m saying is, this wouldn’t be the first time the 212th have had to step in to clean up the 501st’s mess.

CT-7567: Mhmm. Is that what happened on Naboo, too?

CC-2224: That’s different and you know it.

[Sound on audio file is briefing room door closing. Following sound is approximately fifteen seconds of Lila groaning increasingly loudly]

[Recording stop] [Recording start]

L: [long sigh, followed by approximately 7 seconds of silence] It is currently… 1743 hours. I’m still in Briefing Room B, I’ve deleted more useless material than I’ve kept, and I am questioning… every choice I’ve made in my academic career. So. Commander Bly. Can you tell me a little about your relationship with your Jedi General?

CC-5052: No comment.

L: Oh, kark this.

[sound on audio file is Lila removing her lapel mic]

L: …Do you know how to get to 79’s from here?

[Recording stop]

[marta-bee]

Continuing on with Aldarion and Erendis:

Aldarion, no. Just... no.

Aldarion & Erendis were finally married, had a daughter, and a few years later Aldarion sailed again for Middle-earth. It was supposed to be a fairly short two-year journey that stretched out to five. Erendis in turn had witdrawn to the sheep-country and set up a clubhouse rules (no boys allowed) household there to the point their daughter didn't even know what a boy was when she met one (cute scene!). Erendis didn't go to the docks or back to the capital to greet him, when he finally came back.

So... okay, not the warm welcome Aldarion might have hoped for.

Erendis did not come to the table at his late evening-meal, and Aldarion was served by women in a room apart. But before he was done she entered, and said before the women: "You will be weary, my lord, after such haste. A guest-room is made ready for you, when you will. My women will wait on you. If you are cold, call for fire." Aldarion made no answer. He went early to the bedchamber, and being now weary indeed he cast himself on the bed and forgot soon the shadows of Middle-earth and of Númenor in a heavy sleep. But at cockcrow he awoke to a great disquiet and anger. He rose at once, and thought to go without noise from the house: he would find his man Henderch and the horses, and ride to his kinsman Hallatan, the sheep-lord of Hyarastorni. Later he would summon Erendis to bring his daughter to Armenelos, and not have dealings with her upon her own ground. But as he went out towards the doors Erendis came forward. She had not lain in bed that night, and she stood before him on the threshold. "You leave more promptly than you came, my lord," she said. "I hope that (being a mariner) you have not found this house of women irksome already, to go thus before your business is done. Indeed, what business brought you hither? May I learn it before you leave?" "I was told in Armenelos that my wife was here, and had removed my daughter hither," he answered. "As to the wife I am mistaken, it seems, but have I not a daughter?" "You had one some years ago," she said. "But my daughter has not yet risen." "Then let her rise, while I go for my horse," said Aldarion.

My wife. My daughter. He's staking out ownership claims here, and by leaving and planning to order her back to Armenelos, he's even denying her the right to have the conversation they clearly need to have in her own domain. He's planning to drag his wife and child back to an arena where he gets to set the rules of engagement.

To my mind, he's abandoned Erendis to raise Ancalime alone, not because he had to (at least for the usual securing-a-livelihood reasons) but because he felt compelled to go off adventuring. It's not what a husband owes his wife and young child, and at the least he owes her an apology and a request to begin anew. But he doesn't do any of that.

Erendis would have withheld Ancalimë from meeting him at that time; but she feared to go so far as to lose the King's favour, and the Council had long shown their displeasure at the upbringing of the child in the country. Therefore when Aldarion rode back, with Henderch beside him, Ancalimë stood beside her mother on the threshold. She stood erect and stiff as her mother, and made him no courtesy as he dismounted and came up the steps towards her. "Who are you?" she said. "And why do you bid me to rise so early, before the house is stirring?" Aldarion looked at her keenly, and though his face was stern he smiled within: for he saw there a child of his own, rather than of Erendis, for all her schooling. "You knew me once, Lady Ancalimë," he said, "but no matter. Today I am but a messenger from Armenelos, to remind you that you are the daughter of the King's Heir; and (so far as I can now see) you shall be his Heir in your turn. You will not always dwell here. But go back to your bed now, my lady, until your maidservant wakes, if you will. I am in haste to see the King. Farewell!" He kissed the hand of Ancalimë and went down the steps; then he mounted and rode away with a wave of his hand. Erendis alone at a window watched him riding down the hill, and she marked that he rode towards Hyarastorni and not towards Armenelos. Then she wept, from grief, but still more from anger. She had looked for some patience, that she might extend after rebuke pardon if prayed for; but he had dealt with her as if she were the offender, and ignored her before her daughter.

As I said: Aldarion, no

Also: pity the child....

I was peeved with Erendis before because of her possessive "love," but Aldarion here does so much worse, the way he simultaneously treats his daughter like his possession and simultaneously uses her as a weapon against her mother. Poor girl and poor woman both.

**********

As a sidenote, it's really interesting to see this fenced off girls-only clubhouse of a society has built at Emerie. The family dynamic is bordering on what we moderns would label abusive, from so many different angles. But it's so rare in Tolkien to think of a female-only community that wasn't caused by war or some urgent peril calling the menfolk off.

The only other example I can think of is the Yavannilidi, the Elven-women who baked lembas, and I honestly can't remember if the idea they were an almost monastic order who lived apart from men as their own society is canon or just a headcanon I dreamed up because the concept always seemed cool.

[every-aj-needs-an-angel]

Part 7 of Vegas AU!! It's so long but I'm so excited for you all to meet Charlie!! This is my first ever OC character I hope I did them justice 🤞 and apologies for being late it's Neil Gaiman's fault. I did have my weekend of editing planned out until he ripped out my heart and stomped on it so I spent last weekend as a burrito instead, sorry.

Part 1 -- Part 2 -- Part 3 -- Part 4 -- Part 5 -- Part 6

Eddie insisted they drop the car off at the hotel and walk to the parlour instead. Not that Steve minded, Eddie had assured them it wasn't far and although the streets were busy, the night air was cool and with Eddie by his side everything seemed kinda magical; almost like anything was possible.

Robin was already back to her usual self, chattering away with Chrissy. He couldn't hear what they were talking about precisely, but it was happy chatter filled with gasps and laughter, so he figured it wasn't for him to worry about. Chris was more than refreshed from her nap and seemed pretty relaxed again as she practically dragged Robin giddily down the sidewalk, fingers entwined and arms swinging adorably.

Steve couldn't help but smile at them, and Eddie seemed equally endeared, grinning fondly as he linked his pinkie with Steve's as they strolled along after their best friends. A street performer was playing a gentle tune on an acoustic guitar, the shop lights were casting a warm glow over the street and the scent of Italian spices were floating out of one of the restaurants as they passed by, all leading to this romantic air that felt more like Paris than Vegas.

The bubble was quickly broken by a group of dudes across the street heading in the opposite direction, whooping and hollering a chorus of "Vegas!" Eddie snorted derisively at the display, making Steve giggle. God, as if I was one of them! The jocks hadn’t seemed to have received the memo to grow the hell up, somehow still stuck in the delusion that because they were someone in high school that the world owed them a favour.

Steve had a feeling Eddie would’ve despised him in high school, and quite right, too. Nothing about Eddie screamed ex-jock, in fact Steve would put money on him being anything but. Not that he was sure what he could've been precisely. A band geek, maybe? Eddie knew a lot about instruments, chatted easily with Robin when she'd brought it up, but hadn't mentioned being in marching band himself.

Steve supposed he could’ve been a nerd, he knew Eddie was crazy smart, he easily kept up with other people even when Steve himself got entirely lost. And Steve could so easily picture it too, Eddie with cropped curls, big glasses and a bow tie. It was an adorable picture, but unlikely. No, Steve swinging closer to him being a theatre kid, especially given his and Chrissy's little display in the desert. Either that or maybe he'd been on the debate team, knowing a lot about everything and impassioned speeches were something they were good at.

He was distracted from his spiralling thoughts when Eddie bumped his shoulder playfully, "Whatcha thinkin' 'bout?" Eddie asked.

Steve glanced over, enjoying the sparkle in his eyes and the gentle smile gracing his face, "Who you were in high school. I'm torn between theatre or debate club?" Steve said softly, because the more he thought about it the more he swung towards theatre, but he hoped he wasn't way off, he didn't want to insult him.

Eddie let out a self-deprecating sigh, his expression shuttering, "Couldn't be more wrong, I'm afraid. I did help with staging a couple times, but I was- uh- well, I wasn't exactly liked in high school," Eddie admitted forlornly.

Steve's internal panic fell quickly from shit I've insulted him to huh? "Really?" Steve asked disbelievingly. Because surely not! Who wouldn't like Eddie?

"Yeah, nah, I was just the school freak. Eddie "The Freak" Munson. That was me for five years," Eddie muttered at the floor, like he was ashamed, like that was anything close to who he was.

Steve felt anger rise up his throat, the urge to protect Eddie putting his shackles up. He desperately wanted to go back to that time and place and make anyone who wanted to call Eddie that say it to his face, make his King Steve persona useful for something, make them apologise and grovel for ever making Eddie feel like he was anything less than the incredible man he was. 

Steve stopped in his tracks to breathe through the sudden fury sitting in his chest. Chrissy and Robin were already waiting for them at the end of the street, a few more minutes wouldn't hurt. Eddie had stopped a pace or two away, still staring at the ground, still feeling the pain and humiliation those bastards had put him through for five years. But it was as though the rest of the world had melted away as Steve dragged Eddie to him by the hand, lifting his chin with gentle fingers and cupping his face; feeling simultaneously like he was holding something as exquisite as a butterfly and as substantial as the whole damn world.

"Eddie," Steve spoke softly, waiting for Eddie to look at him instead of over his shoulder, "Baby. That's not who you are! I didn't know you then, but I guarantee that's never been you! You are so much more than those small-minded, dickless, hopeless nobodies could ever even hope to comprehend! You're Eddie Munson! You're amazing!" Steve told him fiercely.

And if Steve wasn't in love before, seeing the adorable shade of crimson Eddie had gone and the bashful smile affixed to his face made Steve want to reach into his chest, pull out his beating heart and place it into Eddie's precious hands.

Their moment was quickly interrupted by his best friend, "Oi! Dingus and Dorkus!" Robin yelled from the corner, drawing both of their attention, "Less romancing, more moving, we haven't got all day!" she called, only half joking.

Eddie’s grin turned mischievous as he grabbed one of Steve's hands that were still dangling in mid-air and pulled him into a run to catch up with the girls, laughing like a little kid the whole way. Robin rolled her eyes as he and Eddie scampered passed them, dashing further down the road and skidding to a halt outside an inconspicuous shopfront; Chrissy and Robin skipping leisurely after them.

The four of them gathered on the pavement outside of Clarke's, it was a pretty indistinct store, only distinguishable from the surrounding shops in that the windows were covered with white film and the name was written calligraphy style, black lettering on a plain white background. 

Eddie and Chris shared a look Steve couldn't quite decipher before Eddie took him by the hand and dragged him through the front door. The bell that jingled as they entered had barely finished tinkling before the person behind the counter came flying at them, "Eddieeee!" they exclaimed, throwing themselves into Eddie's open arms. 

Steve could only stand there gawking at whoever the hell had just thrown themselves at his husband; trying desperately to push down the irritation he felt prickling his skin as they held Eddie longer than was strictly friendly. It didn’t help that they were gorgeous, tall and slim with an awesome purple mohawk, dressed casually in Converse, daisy dukes and a tie-dye vest that had “they/them” tagged all over it. And it really didn’t help that they were covered in tattoos, not just a few like Eddie, they probably had hundreds, every inch of skin he could see was covered in a multitude of different coloured inks.

Eddie had caught them easily and had wrapped them tightly in his arms, exclaiming, "Charlieeeeeeee! How're you?" he asked, squeezing Charlie tighter.

Steve wasn't jealous, he wasn't. That clawing, gnawing, burning sensation in his chest was just from fast food and a short burst of exercise. Steve tried to avert his eyes as Charlie pulled back, cupping Eddie's jaw in the same way Steve had just done to him not five minutes before, and he felt more than saw Robin reach for his hand, letting her touch soothe him.

"I'm good, I'm good, but how are you?” Charlie asked, tucking a piece of Eddie’s hair behind his ear, “Jeff said I might see you," they added, tilting their head with genuine concern. 

And the thing was, Charlie seemed lovely, very compassionate and very concerned. Steve really was trying his hardest not to hate them, but he couldn't help feeling the desire to put himself in between them. To take Charlie's hands off of Eddie because it felt like someone had walked into his house and had started randomly touching his stuff; because Eddie felt like his and as much as he was trying to swallow that feeling down into the depths where it belonged, he could feel his hands unintentionally clenching, squeezing Robin’s hand tightly. He could feel his spine straightening and his shoulders squaring, like he'd come up against a bear instead of someone Eddie knew, and Steve had to consciously roll his shoulders, trying desperately to fight the overreaction.

Eddie didn't say anything in reply, but something on his face must draw Charlie's attention away from Eddie and to the group at large because Charlie let go of Eddie altogether and looked over at the girls, grinning fondly at Chris when he caught her eye. Then Charlie looked over at Steve, eyeing him like a cat, sizing him up before Charlie's smile turned a little lecherous, "Oh, but you got right back on the horse, didn't you?” Charlie said to Eddie approvingly, “Who's this pretty thing?” they asked, coming towards Steve, hands outstretched like a kid in a toy shop about to start picking up all the dolls.

Except Eddie stepped quickly into Steve's space, batting Charlie's hands away, "Hands off my husband, Kohl!" Eddie didn't sound mean per se, but there was a definite warning in his tone. Oh! That's hot!

Charlie baulked, eyes going wide in disbelief, "Your husband?!"

Eddie nodded decisively, "My husband," he confirmed. Charlie's face went through a multitude of expressions before settling on something that looked almost like pride. It seemed to spur Eddie on, he preened and wrapped an arm around Steve's waist, physically pulling him into their conversation, "Stevie, Sweetheart, my cousin, Charlie Clarke. Char, this is my better half, Steve Harrington," Eddie introduced.

Steve’s brain was short-circuiting. Eddie’s cousin, he’d been possessive over his cousin hugging him! God, I’m too tired for this. Luckily for Steve, autopilot took over, his stiff upbringing coming in handy for something as he shook Charlie's hand cordially, but he'd apparently married into a family of huggers because the two cousins laughed as Charlie threw their arms around Steve’s shoulders, squeezing him tight. 

It'd been a while since Steve had felt so fucking stupid, in reality he had no right to be possessive over anything Eddie did, they were only technically married after all and just because they were continuing to have fun didn’t mean that he had a right to overreact like that. 

Yet at the same time he couldn’t control that buoyant feeling, realising Eddie had chosen to introduce him to his family when he could’ve called Charlie and asked for a recommendation for Robin, or just taken her to any parlour on the strip, but Eddie had chosen to bring them to family. To his cousin who was proud of Eddie, and accepting of the fact that Eddie had got married, hadn’t even asked for details just threw their arms around Steve like he was one of them now. And god did it feel good to be introduced to someone as not only Eddie's husband but his better half. Which given half a chance was a title Steve'd happily wear proudly for the rest of his life.

A vision of them having a reception, Eddie walking him around the room introducing Steve as his husband to all his relatives, Steve doing the same with Eddie, popped unbidden into Steve's mind. Oh, Christ! I absolutely cannot think about that!

Releasing Steve with a genuine smile and patting Eddie affectionately on the cheek, Charlie chortled, "Well, he couldn't be your worse half could he!" they teased.

Eddie rolled his eyes playfully, nudging Steve with his elbow bringing him in on the joke, "Kohl's still bitter about being replaced," he taunted, winking at Steve conspiratorially.

Charlie scoffed, "I think you'll find, I replaced you with Vegas!" they jibed, making Eddie laugh heartily. Feigning pushing Charlie away as they kissed Eddie affectionately on the forehead, before wandering off to wrap Chris in a hug, "Chris! How're you, kitten?"

Chrissy beamed at Charlie, kissing them on the cheek, "I'm good, darling, I'm having the best time!" she told Charlie realising them and tugging Robin closer by the hand, "This is Robin, she'd like something done if you've got the time?" Chrissy asked so sweetly, Steve wondered how anyone could ever say no to her.

Charlie puffed out a breath in mock consideration, "For my favourite girl's girl?" they asked, rubbing their chin and looking Robin up and down, quickly caving from the facade, "I've got all the time in the world," Charlie added, already flipping the sign on the door from Open to Closed, flicking the lock, "Come on out back, tell me everything!" they said as the girls followed Charlie behind the counter through the open door into the backroom; Chrissy chatting away about their day, leaving Steve and Eddie truly alone for the first time since that morning.

Steve suddenly felt nauseous, he wasn’t sure whether it was the butterflies that’d suddenly sprung to life in his stomach or the worry that maybe somehow Eddie had sensed his reaction to Charlie, that maybe he’d be in trouble for being jealous. And the longer the moment lasted the two of them just staring at one another the more unsure Steve became, he wrung his hands, no longer knowing what to do with them.

He wanted to draw Eddie to him, put his hands all over him, like he was desperate just to touch him. And he hadn't ever felt like that, like he couldn't focus, couldn't control himself, like he wanted to be a giant, so he could keep Eddie in his pocket, like he wanted to shrink himself down, so he could live in Eddie's so he would never not be touching him.

His racing thoughts were staring to make him panic, he could feel his breaths getting short and faster but Eddie, his calming, steady Eddie just looked at him so softly like he was thoroughly endeared, pulled Steve into his arms in one swift motion and kissed him so soundly that every thought flitting around his head just floated away until there was nothing but the pressure of Eddie's lips, the smell of fading sunscreen, mixed with cologne and the underlying something that was just Eddie, and the fizzling excited feeling in Steve's sternum he felt every time their lips were locked.

It felt like they spent forever and barely any time at all in each other's embrace before Robin calling their names eventually broke through into Steve's consciousness, making him reluctantly pull away. Not that he could leave the safe little bubble Eddie had created for them right away. Steve had to rest his forehead against Eddie's to keep the connection for a few seconds longer, just to keep him close, to keep breathing him in while he got a hold of enough of his bearings to function. Eddie hummed quietly to himself, softly pecking Steve’s lips once more before taking his hand and leading him into the back room.

Robin snorted when they entered, and he couldn’t exactly blame her. It seemed he’d somehow managed to pull all of Eddie’s hair free of its tie and his lips, although kiss swollen, were pulled tightly into a sunny smile. "When you two are quite finished," Robin chastised with a raised eyebrow. Steve knew she was joking with them, but he couldn’t help the immediate rush of guilt he felt.

This was supposed to be their holiday together, supposed to be her special trip, her special day, yet he was wrapped up in someone he was stupidly desperately in love with and considering the chances of him ever seeing Eddie again as soon as they all went home were pretty slim, he felt terrible that he’d stopped focusing on his best friend.

Eddie didn’t seem too bothered, in fact he seemed more amused than anything, "I'm sorry Bobs, I just can't get enough," he purred, laughing raucously when she mimed gagging, turning back to the book in her lap with a roll of her eyes.

Charlie pressed a drink into their hands with a gentle "here you go" before flopping down next to the girls on the comfortable looking sofa. Robin was flicking through a stack of books filled with drawings, Chrissy pressed tightly to her side, looking over her shoulder. Eddie put his glass down on the coffee table and sat in the lazyboy next to his cousin, effortlessly pulling Steve into his lap, tucking his chin over his shoulder and wrapping his arms around his waist. It’d stopped surprising Steve that Eddie just did things like that, but he was thankful for his dexterity that he’d managed not to spill liquid all over the tiled floor in the process.

Steve placed his glass on his knee, watching Robin flick through the images, wondering what she’d pick. He half expected the cousins to start up a conversation and was trying to give them as much privacy as possible, so they could talk, even if it was only small talk. 

Steve didn’t have cousins of his own, but Tommy had had three. They weren’t very close, but that was unsurprising he supposed given they lived on the other side of the country and only really saw each other every couple of years for family get together’s. Steve had been allowed to go to one once when Tommy’s gran had died. It had devastated Tommy, and Steve had only been allowed to be at the funeral to keep Tommy from crying and embarrassing the family. Apparently, 10 was too old to cry when you lost the only adult who'd ever really loved you.

He’d met Tommy’s cousins at the wake, and they were awful. The things they’d said to Tommy were way out of line and whether it was because they were grieving or just because that’s who they were Steve didn’t know; honestly he didn’t care, he was just glad when Tommy never spoke to them again. And he'd always thought that if that was what cousins did to each other, he was glad he'd never had any of his own.

Except neither cousin said anything, they just stared at each other for a while and then Charlie asked, "So, I hear you're from Hawkins?"

Steve pulled his eyes from where they’d glazed over watching the pages of the book flick, to Charlie. It was obviously aimed at him, and although they had asked almost conversationally, there was a fierceness in their eyes and a definite tone. Steve knew the beginnings of a grilling when he heard it, and he was suddenly glad for Eddie's proximity, especially when he wrapped his arms instinctively tighter around his waist.

Max had been the last person to give him the “what are your intentions” talk. It’d hurt mainly because he had thought she'd liked him, and he knew she'd hated Billy, especially after the incident with Lucas. He couldn’t afford to think about that now, if he had any hopes of making this work past this holiday, he had to make a good impression. And that was a thought that only continued to make him more nervous, the thought of fucking this up for good was unbearable, his heart rate kicking up and his mouth going impossibly dry.

He was so nervous he could only nod his affirmation, barely even registering the telltale smell that it wasn't water in his glass as he took a large swig, only realising that it was neat vodka when he choked as it burned down his gullet. Jesus Christ!

Eddie smacked Charlie's shin with the back of his hand while he rubbed soothing circles on Steve's back, "Jesus H Christ! Warn a person, Kohl! You mean bastard!" Eddie chastised, leaning forward to check Steve wasn't dying as he hacked up a lung, tears blurring his vision as he tried to breathe.

Charlie sprang off the couch, "Come now, Bear," they said, quickly crossing the room in two strides, "You know better than anyone that my fathers' were married long before I came along," Charlie quipped, pulling a bottle of water out of one of the cupboards and handing it to Steve with a whispered "Sorry, honey. Are you alright?" joining Eddie in rubbing his back gently, "Plus, I didn't hear you warn him either!" they said to Eddie accusingly.

Eddie sucked in a breath, no doubt ready to retort when Chrissy interrupted, "My darlings, are you fighting? You know how Pa hates it when you fight." Chris spoke softly and sweetly, but something about the way she said it made sure both cousins were quick to back down.

Eddie sighed heavily, back to fussing over Steve as Charlie sat back down on the sofa, making a point to look anywhere but at their cousin. A heavy quiet settled over the group, the only sounds in the room coming from the rustle of turning pages and the quiet music playing on a radio in the corner of the room; Endless Love sounding out of the tiny speaker. 

Steve inadvertently caught Eddie's eye as he fretted over him, brushing Steve's hair back away from his forehead and combing his fingers through the hairs at the back of his neck, and the look in his eyes was enough to take Steve's breath away. Eddie was looking at him with such a deep intensity, Steve felt like he was being sucked into a vortex. Becoming almost overwhelming when Eddie started mouthing the lyrics, it felt like Eddie was the one saying the words, like he could possibly mean them and Steve felt it for a second, his own feelings mirrored back at him in Eddie's gaze.

But then Robin accidentally kicked the coffee table, swearing loudly and rubbing her foot, effectively snapping their attention to her and breaking the moment like popping a bubble. Chrissy carefully pushed the table away from Robin with her foot, effectively covering the sound as Steve gulped audibly.

He began purposefully glancing around the room as the song switched to Let's Stay Together, he knew he'd give himself away if he looked back at Eddie. Knew he'd be able to see Steve's true desires if their eyes met and something about Eddie seeing how deep the well of affection Steve felt for him went terrified the living crap out of him. And honestly, he wasn't sure his heart would survive it, if he saw and heard it reflected back from Eddie, and then he never saw him again. Steve knew it'd destroy him, there'd be nothing of him left for Robin to piece back together. 

For the first time since hearing Eddie sing in his shower, Steve wished he'd stop when Eddie started crooning the words under his breath into Steve's shoulder where he'd pressed his face against him. Steve felt panic rising back up his throat, constricting his chest, and he knew he needed to focus on something else before he lost it completely. 

He'd never been in a tattoo parlour before, it was a brand new experience he could throw all his attention at, and he'd never been more thankful. He had nothing to compare it to, but Clarke's seemed nice, white tiled floors that sparkled just so in the overhead lighting, but he knew a cursory glance wouldn't be enough to hold his attention enough to drag his anxiety back to neutral, so he began counting things trying to quell the emotions filling him and slow his rapidly beating heart. 

Ten spotlights in the ceiling, nine bottles of something lined up on the counter against the wall, eight leaves on the potted plant in the corner, seven business cards on the pin board, six framed paintings, five hooks on the key hook by the backdoor, four different coloured painted walls, three workstations with comfortable looking black chairs like what you'd find at the dentist, two magazines on the coffee table and one tattoo artist, watching Steve intently.

Before Charlie had a chance to ask, Steve took in the thousands of photos of different body parts adorned with pretty patterns and colours all over the walls that threw a question blindly into his mind, "Did you do all of these?" he asked gruffly, his throat still not quite recovered, both from choking and the lump that had formed no matter how much he tried not to listen to Eddie, indicating the wall behind Charlie's head with a tilt of his own.

He cleared his throat inconspicuously, knowing he'd hit the jackpot question when Charlie's face split into a manic grin, almost the exact same look Robin had whenever someone asked her about her theories; ecstatically animated with sparkling eyes, like you could see the words being formed behind them.

"Not all, no, but I've done the majority. There's two other artists working here, but I've been here the longest," Charlie told him, glancing proudly around the room, calming Steve somewhat, "Do you have any?" Charlie enquired, giving Steve their undivided attention, clearly genuinely interested in the answer.

Steve shook his head, "Me? No. They're beautiful. I love Eddie's but erm..." and Steve realised he was about to say his parents wouldn't allow it, like they had any control over his life and he was so sick of having thoughts like that. He knew it was way past time he learned that he liked what he liked, and his parents would always be indifferent to it regardless of what he did, there was just no pleasing them. So if he liked tattoos, if having one was what he wanted, that was for him to decide; there was no right or wrong that would suddenly win their affections.

Luckily, Steve was saved from elaborating by Robin’s excited gasp as she pointed to a picture in the book she was flicking through, "That one! That's it! Can I have this one, Charlie?" she asked excitedly, bouncing up and down in her seat like a kid on the way to the seaside.

Steve clambered out of Eddie's lap, so they could all gather around the book, looking down at the page of drawings, "They're adorable, babe!" Chrissy declared joyfully, and she was right; it was a simple design, a little upside-down teardrop with giant eyes, the human depiction of an alien's head, but it was very cute.

Charlie grinned at Robin, "Perfect! You want colour or just as they are?" they asked, getting off the sofa and heading across the room towards one of the stations.

Robin didn't even hesitate, "Just as they are!" she decreed, jumping up and practically dancing around the room.

Somehow, the book had ended up in Chrissy’s lap, who was staring at the little picture with such adoration Steve wondered if you could force something into existence by pure thought alone. Luckily, Robin stopped moving long enough to notice, kneeling in front of Chrissy and looking up at her through her lashes, "Why don't you get one too?" Robin asked coyly.

The look of awe Chrissy was directing at his best friend nearly knocked him off his feet, "Really?" Chrissy asked with heartbreaking disbelief in her voice.

Except Robin panicked and suddenly second-guessed herself, she started backtracking, babbling, "Yeah, I mean, if you want. You don't have to, don't feel like you've got to. I just thought it'd be nice, y'know? And you seemed to like it, you said they were cute, but that doesn't mean you'd want them forever, right? Maybe you could get something different? Maybe we could all get one? Just like a souvenir?"

It'd been a long time since Steve had seen someone look at Robin like that, like she was the miracle Steve knew her to be. Chrissy was misty-eyed, her smile stretched so far across her face, Steve worried it might split in two. She looked like all her dreams had come true, and maybe they had; he knew all he'd wanted growing up was for someone to say yes to something he actually wanted.

"Bobbie!" Steve interrupted gently, nodding his head towards Chrissy, successfully redirecting Robin's attention away from her internal panic. The two girls beamed brightly at one another as Robin knelt up, crowding into Chrissy’s space; Chris nodding tearfully like she’d just accepted a marriage proposal instead of an invitation for a matching tattoo. Steve could stop himself from smiling affectionately at them, "That's a brilliant idea, if it's okay with Charlie?" he asked, turning purposefully away from the girls, giving them a moment of privacy.

Charlie grinned from their station, where they were busy getting set up, "This is my joy, doll, the more, the merrier!" they said affectionately, patting the chair, inviting Robin to come and sit.

“Yes! So we’re all getting one, right?” Robin asked, giving Steve a quick squeeze around the middle as she passed him.

Steve planted a kiss on the top of her head before she let go, “If you’re sure?” he asked, asking with his eyes as well as his mouth as she backed away from him towards Charlie, just to make sure she hadn’t backed herself into a corner, but she seemed pretty certain and who was he to deny her anything after he’d essentially ruined their platonic couples getaway by falling in love.

Chrissy sat with Robin while Charlie worked, holding her hand and talking her through it, even though it took surprisingly less time than Steve assumed it would. The radio in the corner only had time to play a few songs that he barely had time to register as he watched Robin intently, making sure she wasn't in too much pain or panicking, but she was fine, she was happy. When Charlie sat back with a satisfied grin and a questioning eyebrow, Robin looked down at the little alien looking up at her from her finger and grinned even as tears sprung into her eyes, sliding quickly down her cheeks.

It was so unlike her. Steve had always been a total wreck, a good song, a sad movie, he cried but not Robin; she was always the one making fun of him. This was unprecedented, and he didn’t really know what else to do other than to spring up and wrap his arms around her shoulders, pressing his face into her hair even as she insisted she was fine.

Robin put up with his fussing for a whole minute before she was patting his arm and trying to wriggle out of his grasp, “Honestly, dingus. I’m just… so happy. Look,” she said, wiggling her finger at Steve and laughing wetly.

He didn’t really want to leave her side, but Chrissy was trying her best not to crowd into them, even though Steve could tell she wanted to and when Eddie patted the sofa next to him softly, he knew he was right. Knew that from that moment on he wouldn’t always have to be the one to protect Robin. Knew that he’d find it hard to move over and let someone else help when he’d been the one doing it for so long, but that it was something he was going to have to wrap his head around.

He wandered melancholically back to the couch, letting Eddie wrap him in his arms listening to the rumble in his chest as he sang softly along with the songs coming from the radio, watching as Robin slid out of the chair and into Chrissy’s embrace, excitedly showing her her finger and seeing Chrissy mirror her excitement back.

Charlie did a bit of cleaning and tidying while the girls chatted before patting the chair again, and after asking Robin another twenty times if she was sure she wanted them to have matching tattoos, Chrissy sat for hers. 

Steve couldn't help but admire her strength because she barely even flinched as Charlie pierced her skin. Robin had tried to be brave, but he’d recognised the signs she was trying not to show, the same signs from when she’d lay in agony on the couch once a month and Steve wouldn’t even need to ask, he’d just get the heat pad and, depending on the weather, either the rocky road ice cream or a hazelnut hot chocolate.

Chrissy didn’t even seem to notice and his admiration for her must shine through because Eddie pressed his face into his jaw, "This isn't her first," he whispered into Steve's ear. And it's not that it surprises him exactly, he just never would've guessed, but maybe having Eddie as a best friend taught her things he's yet to learn.

Steve hummed, pushing Eddie back into the sofa, so he could snuggle into Eddie's side. He felt safe, tucked under Eddie’s chin with his arms securely wrapped around him to feel the pain he was feeling for his younger self. He so wished he'd known the four of them when he was a teenager, wished he'd had the chance to be himself sooner, wished he was as sure of himself as Chrissy was. 

Unfortunately, Eddie mistook his clinginess as nervousness, muttering in his ear, "You don't have to get one, if you don't want. I won't either, and then it'll just be a thing for them-"

"It's not that. I want to. I do," Steve interrupted quietly, "It's just... I realised earlier that the only reason I've never done a lot of things I want to do is that I'm still fearful of disappointing my parents, even though they're already disappointed and there won’t be anything I can ever do to change that. I just want to be more like Chrissy, she's living her life for herself, y'know?" he admitted, surprised at how good it felt to let that out.

Eddie nodded solemnly, pulling him closer and bringing one hand up, fingers splayed in the hair at the back of his head, "She wasn't always this way," Eddie muttered, playing absentmindedly with the strands, "It takes practice and good people around you who are ready to really see you and what you want and remind you it's okay to take it. I was as lucky to find her, as you were to find Robin, and we're both luckier still to have found you two," Eddie mumbled, placing a kiss into Steve's hair.

Eddie sighed heavily, "My dad wasn't a good man, but my uncle was. He realised I was in a bad place. Always getting into fights at school, no friends, no family. When my dad first went to prison, my uncle stayed with me at my dads, until I came home from school one day black and blue and on the edge of tears. He cleaned me up and calmed me down, and then he sat with me and asked me what I wanted. Asked me if I could live anywhere in the world, where would I want to live. And when I said I just wanted to live with him, he literally just picked me up and took me to live with his family."

He huffed wistfully, "They cleared out their office, so I could have my own room in their home, even though both Charlie and I said we'd be fine sharing. They made me feel so welcome and honestly, for years, I felt so left out because Charlie called Wayne dad, but I felt like I couldn't even though I wanted to more than anything. And then I met Chris, her stepdad was the one to rescue her, from her mother of all people, but she always called him dad. One day I asked her why, and she said to me, "Moms and dads aren't the people who give you life, they're the ones who raise you, who show up for you and love you no matter what"."

Both Chrissy and Robin were chatting vibrantly with Charlie, so they hadn't heard Eddie’s mumbled story, nor the sob that hiccuped out of Steve's chest, even though he had been trying his hardest to focus on their smiles in order to quell the flood roaring through him. Eddie tightened his grip, rubbing his thumb soothingly along Steve's ribs. His story was as beautiful as Eddie himself, and Steve knew deep down that he was right, that you can't live your life for people who never bothered to love you enough to even be classed as your parents. 

Not when he had Hop and Claudia, who actually deserved the titles. They’d been taking care of him in the way his parents should’ve for as long as he could remember. They were the ones who loved him, who showed up for him, who he called when he had a bad day, who he knew he could rely on no matter what, who dropped everything to be at his side whenever he needed them.

He was lucky to have them, Claud was the one who fussed and coddled and cared; icing wounds, forcing him to eat home-cooked meals, doling out endless affection and letting him get away with murder. And Hop, well he’d come into his life on the day he needed a dad the most and honestly Steve wasn’t sure where he’d be if he hadn’t. Not that it had stopped Steve from putting the man through hell. Steve hadn’t wanted to, not really, he was just young and rebellious and angry, and he’d needed an outlet for that.

But Hop saw him and continued to see him, no matter how many times Steve acted out or tried to brush him off. Hop always stood there and took whatever Steve threw at him, calm and steady most of the time and even the times when Steve pushed too hard and Hop stormed off, he always came back. And although he might not have been the best at saying it, or showing it in any of the traditional ways, Steve knew Hop loved him. He was more of a dad than his own had ever been.

Admittedly, Hop was a little miffed when Steve came out, not because Steve was bi but because Steve had hidden the fact that the real reason he had moved to Indy was to be with Billy, to really be with him in a way they couldn't be in Hawkins. Except all Billy did was drag him out to Indy, continue to ignore and neglect him and make Steve feel like it was his fault he was acting that way, when in reality he was just cheating on Steve with just about anything with a pulse.

So yeah, Hop had been a little miffed but only because he hadn't been able to stop his boy from getting his heart broken, hadn't been able to give Billy a shovel talk so genuinely terrifying he wouldn't have dared to treat Steve that way, hadn't been able to do what he did best, which was protect his kids from harm, even if the only harm was heartbreak.

The Billy Incident had led to their agreement, anyone getting past the third date came to dinner with Hop, so they could be sized up and terrified before Steve had the chance to fall too hard and get his heart broken by someone just wanting to mess him around. And thinking about it, Steve was a little scared of what Hop's reaction was going to be when he found out Steve was already in deep; not that he thought Hop would be mad with him, just that he might be disappointed, which somehow seemed worse.

Steve wondered if Eddie's uncle would be equally unimpressed. If Eddie called him dad now. If his uncle knew how much Eddie loved and respected him. Not that he had time to ask because Charlie had finished with Chrissy and the cleaning and was in the process of calling Steve over, until Robin took one look at him, red-eyed and uncurling himself from Eddie's side and dragged him unceremoniously out of the room with an “excuse us” so she could check in with him.

She of course went on a minutes long rant, reminding him he didn't have to do anything he didn't want to, taking no interruptions, so Steve could explain that his being upset had nothing to do with a tattoo. When she did finally let him get a word in edgeways, he only had to say the word parents before she was nodding sagely, she might not understand exactly, but she saw the way his biological parents were with him in comparison to the way Hop and Claud treated him. She had once jokingly asked him if he was too old to be emancipated and adopted, and honestly, Steve kinda wished he wasn't too old for that.

By the time he’d convinced Robin that he was okay, Eddie already had his tattoo done like she'd ordered with a bark at them as she'd marched Steve out. He was sad he’d missed his opportunity to sit by Eddie’s side as the girls had got to, but he could hope he’d get another chance some other time. Steve sheepishly clambered into the chair next to Charlie, feeling excited and nervous all at once. 

Everyone's eyes were on him, and he didn't want to be the wuss of the group, but Charlie was great, keeping him distracted with easy conversation, "So, you're from Hawkins, right? Did you go to Hawkins Middle?" It sounded a lot less like the Spanish Inquisition this time, more like curiosity, even if it was oddly specific for someone who grew up a few towns over. Steve happily hummed his affirmation, trying his hardest not to speak, so he wouldn't shout "OW!" like he wanted to, but then Charlie looked up at him, a truly mischievous smile spread across their face, "Taught by Mr Clarke?" they asked, eyes gleaming.

Steve's brows drew together because yeah he was, but how did-? "Oh my god! Your dad is Scott Clarke?" Steve yelled in astonishment as it all fell into place.

"The one and only!" Charlie proclaimed, laughing merrily and bending back over his finger, getting back to work.

And what the actual hell because Steve had grown up hearing stories of Mr Clarke's kids, Eddie and Charlie. Steve had spent a year looking forward to Monday mornings because Scott would be so excited to tell his students all about his weekend and all the weird and wonderful things he and his family had got up to.

Honestly, Steve had always been envious that they spent time doing things together, even if some of the stuff was weird as hell, like deconstructing and rebuilding the TV for fun. And Mr Clarke was the best teacher Steve had ever had, he was so caring and supportive and obliging, and had the patience of a saint, for those few middle school years all Steve wished for for Christmas was for his parents to be more like him.

Then, when Steve had become the kids' official babysitter, he'd really got to know Scott and he'd talk so proudly about his son's band, always inviting Steve to concerts, but heavy metal wasn't cool enough for King Steve and when he'd started up with Billy, he'd declared it lame, so Steve never went. But to think that maybe if he'd gone, he might have met Eddie all those years ago and neither of them would've had to suffer heartbreak and terrible partners.

Steve was broken from his musings by Charlie announcing "ta-da" and when he looked down, there was a little alien staring cutely back up at him. A souvenir. A reminder. An unspoken bond. Something they shared that'd outlive all of them. He'd never been happier with anything in his life.

The first words out of his mouth weren't the "thank you" he'd intended, but "Corroded Coffin" which snapped everyone's attention from Charlie's work to Steve.

"What did you say?" Chrissy asked breathlessly.

Steve shrugged, "Corroded Coffin. Scott, Mr Clarke, he talked endlessly about camping trips and hiking trails and a garage filled with, what I always imagined being absolute chaos, but knowing the way he kept his classroom was probably as neat as a pin. And then years later, I babysat kids in his AV club, and we'd chat, he told me about his kids band, Corroded Coffin," he admitted, refraining from imitating their dad.

"He talked about us?" Charlie asked, looking a little misty-eyed over at Eddie, who looked a little tearful himself.

Steve smiled wistfully at the memory, "All the time! We all knew stories about you two. The time you got stuck up a tree was a particular favourite," Steve informed them, making Chrissy cackle and Eddie and Charlie look varying degrees of offended.

"We weren't stuck!" Eddie yelled indignantly.

Steve couldn't help the giggle that crawled up his throat, "No? So Scott didn't have to call the fire brigade?" he asked faux innocently, sending the girls into hysterics.

Charlie found the funny side when Eddie blushed deeply, "Actually, I got down by myself eventually, Eddie was the one clinging to the trunk, wailing," they added, Chrissy flopping onto the couch, so she could roll around laughing.

Steve couldn't help feeling endeared by Eddie's pout as he muttered under his breath that it was Charlie's fault they were up the tree in the first place. Steve pulled him to him by his belt loop wrapping his arm around his waist and resting his head against his stomach and mumbling "You're so cute!" Eddie brushing his fingers through Steve's hair.

When Charlie had finished giggling, they called them all over so the four of them could put their matching fingers next to one another on the counter, Charlie using a Polaroid camera to snap a photograph for the wall. Charlie then proceeded to wrap up their tattooed fingers to keep them safe, giving Steve and Robin detailed instructions on how to care for their new tattoo.

They unfortunately didn't get to stay with Charlie much longer, they'd gone back to the sofa to chat some more when two of Charlie's colleagues, Tee and Bee, arrived. They were surprised to find the parlour so full on a random Wednesday night, but they were excited to meet Charlie's big brother.

Except after two more vodkas, Eddie decided when he heard You're The First, The Last, My Everything coming through the radio speaker, it was time to serenade Steve again, which after three vodkas Steve was absolutely fine with; Charlie on the other hand was just embarrassed to be the sibling of someone who considered "that" dancing.

They were promptly shooed out of the backroom and after a round of hugs and kisses, with many promises to see each other again soon, the two couples took a tipsy stroll back to their hotel, hollering loudly into the night.

my beautiful tag list @estrellami-1 @gregre369 @adhdsummer @nerdfighteratheart @anaibis @hbyrde36 @dolphincliffs @marinarasarah @deadflowercollector @lunabookworm @a-couchpotato @wonderland-girl143-blog @ddharrington @abstractnaturaldisaster @lololol-1234 feel free to lmk if you want removing 💖

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

Part 8

[fics-by-em]

Amorous Facades - Chapter Sixteen

A wild night out leaves the lives of Jamie Tartt and Ophelia Adams more intertwined than they ever would have imagined.

Will their decision to try and use the situation to their advantage work out in their favour or will they realize that they should have cut their losses when they had the chance?

———-

previous chapter

———-

Note: I am so sorry for such a long hiatus! It was unplanned, but life was busy and I was super unmotivated. Also, I know this chapter is kind of short, but I'm definitely back in the groove now so hopefully I will have more chapters ready soon and they will be longer.

If anyone is still around, please let me know!

———-

The morning after her altercation with Daniel, Lia woke up feeling humiliated.

The thought of Roy being forced to barge into the bathroom to save her, the way she’d fallen apart in front of everyone as Daniel was dragged outside, how she’d blubbered and cried to Keeley and Rebecca about how her mind couldn’t stop racing with the possibilities of what could have happened. Considering it was her first formal event as Mrs.Tartt, she was fairly certain that she couldn’t have made much more of a mess of it if she’d tried.

And things only got worse when she checked her phone.

While Lia hadn’t seen any lingering press when she left with Jamie, Daniel had apparently run into some after he’d been removed and was more than happy to give them his version of events. Rebecca had already issued a statement refuting his claims before Lia even knew what was going on, but she knew who would be believed in the court of public opinion. She could see it already as the people in the comments on the first post she’d found had all sorts of things to say about her and not much of it was very flattering.

She immediately tossed her phone aside and buried herself back in the blankets where she spent the rest of the morning curled up with Jamie. It was the most comforting place she could think of as the support that he’d offered her throughout the aftermath of their evening had meant more to her than she could ever express. He never made her feel unreasonable or pressured her to talk about how she was feeling, he just gave her space to process her emotions while staying close enough to make her feel safe. The gentleness he’d used while he washed her in the bath had almost made her fall to pieces all over again and it had the bond she felt with him growing even stronger despite the tumultuous events that led to their intimate moment.

She was sad to see him go that afternoon when he had to drag himself to training for Richmond’s big match against Chelsea the following day and when that match finally rolled around, Lia - somewhat reluctantly - chose not to attend. She was feeling a little more herself after taking an entire day to hide away and take care of herself, but just the thought of being in a stadium full of people who had probably at least seen some sort of headline about what had happened was enough to make her anxiety spike. 

Instead, she went to work, hoping that returning to her routine would bring her a little bit of comfort, but that hope was dashed when the bell above the door rang about halfway through the afternoon. As usual, Lia lifted her head to greet whoever had just walked in, but when her eyes landed on Mike, she felt her blood run cold.

“What are you doing here?”

Her tone was harsh and entirely unwelcoming and for once she was grateful that the store was practically completely devoid of any customers.

“I come in peace,” he assured her, holding his hands up as if to surrender. “Well, I’ve come to hopefully make peace actually. I owe you an apology.”

It had been just over a month since Katie had walked in making the same claim and she was tempted to make a joke about them comparing scripts, but the memory of how her conversation with Katie had gone took all humour of the situation - especially considering the events that had happened a couple of nights earlier.

“It’s too late for that.”

Lia crossed her arms, hoping to seem firm and confident despite her racing heart, but Mike had always been stubborn.

“Please, Lia, can we at least talk?” He requested. “I know I was an absolute arsehole and I don’t deserve any of your time, but it would mean a lot to me…and to Katie.”

“Does she know you’re here?”

“No, she has no idea,” he shook his head. “She’s at home, probably still staring at her phone and trying to think of what to say to you. She’s written and deleted at least fifty different messages this morning.”

“Sorry, am I supposed to feel bad for her?” Lia questioned, feeling her annoyance starting to rise. “Oh, poor Katie, it must be so hard for her to have no idea how to fix the mess she made that led to me being physically attacked.”

“That’s not what I meant,” Mike cringed. “But we want to make things right.”

“That’s what Lia told me a few weeks ago before basically admitting that she had no intention of actually doing anything to fix the situation,” Lia informed him. “And considering you seemed to be the biggest problem, I find it very strange that you’ve suddenly changed your mind about things.”

“I saw the articles,” Mike admitted. “I saw what he was saying about what happened and it makes no sense to me. I don’t believe for a second that you would attend an event with your boyfriend and try to shag Daniel in the bathroom, you’re not that kind of girl.”

The certainty that he spoke with almost caught her off guard, but she was skeptical of his motivations and saw some holes in his story.

“But a few months ago you believed that Daniel’s actions towards me were justified because even though I had a boyfriend, I was supposedly flirting with him all the time,” Lia pointed out. “So if you think I’m capable of that, why wouldn’t I be capable of having an affair right under Jamie’s nose?”

“There’s a bit of a difference between flirting and trying to get off with him while your boyfriend is in another room,” Mike argued as Lia was once again happy that no customers were around to hear their conversation. “Besides, I didn’t think that you actually wanted to be with Daniel, I just said that I understood why he thought it was okay to pursue you the way that he did because you were sort of leading him on all the time.”

“But I wasn’t,” Lia firmly clarified. “I never flirted with him, I never gave him any indication that I was interested. I said no repeatedly and without any indication that I was joking or hoping he’d read between the lines and realize that I actually meant yes. The fact that you took his side in that disagreement is why this happened, Mike! You let him think that I was playing games with him until he was fed up with being messed with and decided to just take what he wanted. God, if Roy hadn’t found us when he did then I don’t even want to think about what could have happened!”

“He wouldn’t have…” Mike trailed off as Lia shot him a look of disbelief and his shoulders slumped as he was forced to face the truth. “Okay, maybe I don’t know what he would have done or how far he would have gone, but that’s what I’m here to admit and apologize for. He’s not who I thought he was - or he’s become someone that I don’t want to be around - and I’m sorry that I didn’t believe you when you tried to tell me. You had no reason to lie about it and I should have listened.”

Lia watched him for a minute, but to her surprise she couldn’t see any signs of insincerity on his face. She waited a little longer - just to make him sweat a bit - before she relented as much as she felt comfortable.

“I appreciate the apology,” she decided, being careful not to use words like ‘it’s fine’. “I can’t say that it makes everything better, but it was big of you to come here and talk to me so I appreciate that.”

Mike nodded and looked somewhat relieved, but a sigh slipped from his lips.

“He was my best friend. I thought I knew him so well, I never thought he’d do anything like this. It seems unreal.”

His firm use of the word was tugged at Lia’s heartstrings. Despite her hesitation to accept his apology and her knowledge that his words didn’t make everything right, she had to admit that finding out your best friend was a predator and a danger to women would have to be very unsettling and upsetting. However, he would have found out a lot sooner had he simply listened to her so every flicker of sympathy she felt was quickly squashed by the reality of the situation.

“I’m sorry that he turned out to be so awful,” Lia empathised before reminding him, “But if you’d listened to me then you would have known about it months ago. It shouldn’t have taken him attempting to assault me for you to believe me. So, again, while I appreciate you taking the time to come and apologize, I’m not sure that it’s enough right now to mend any burnt bridges.”

“I can understand that,” Mike agreed, despite the way his head dropped and his shoulders hunched with disappointment. “But promise me that you’ll answer Katie if she messages you, yeah? She’s worried sick about you and dying to make sure you’re alright.”

“I’ll think about it,” Lia shrugged. “I can’t make any promises. I just need time, Mike. This isn’t something that I can easily forget about.”

That clearly wasn’t what Mike had been hoping to hear as a defeated sigh fell from his lips and he moved towards the door.

“Alright,” he relented, apparently sensing that there was nothing more he could say to convince her. “Well, I hope I’ll see you soon, Lia, and I’m glad that you’re alright.”

There were many responses to that statement that came to Lia’s mind, but it all felt rather pointless so she settled for a simple nod of her head before Mike slipped out the door and left her to her thoughts.

——

Lia was in two minds about whether or not to tell Jamie about her conversation with Mike.

It felt wrong to keep it from him, but he’d been so protective since the incident and she was fairly certain that he wouldn’t take it well. However, any doubt slipped from her mind as soon as Jamie strolled into their living room that evening with his concern for her still written all over his face.

“How are you doing?” He asked as he perched on the arm of the chair across from where she was lounging on the couch. “How was your first day back at work? Wasn’t too much going back, was it?”

“No, work was fine,” she assured him before admitting, “But I did have an interesting visit.”

She saw Jamie’s body language shift, tensing as if he was ready for a fight.

“Oh, yeah? Who?”

“Mike. He wanted to apologize for not believing me, I guess he’s finally come to his senses.”

The scoff of disbelief that slipped from Jamie’s lips summed up her feelings on the matter as well.

“And did you tell him to fuck right off?”

“Sort of, but not in those words,” Lia smiled weakly. “And in the end I told him that I appreciated the apology.”

“Why the fuck did you do that?”

The complete disgust in his voice had Lia biting back another smile, but as she contemplated the question, she found herself feeling very conflicted.

“Because, despite everything that happened, I think he was being genuine and I think both him and Katie have learned a hard lesson.” He looked shocked by her admission, but seemed to sense there was more she wanted to say and stayed quiet until she composed her thoughts enough to continue. “Do you think I’d be mental if I forgave them? Obviously the damage has been done and I don’t think our friendship could ever be the same, but I do miss them.”

It was clear from Jamie’s expression what he truly thought about her question, but she was surprised by what he said when he finally spoke.

“Well, they don’t deserve your forgiveness,” he reminded her. “But if you’re doing it for you then I don’t think it’s mental. Would only be mental if you were doing it because they guilted you into it.”

“I don’t think that’s what’s happening,” Lia mused. “I think I just genuinely miss them and if they’re willing to make it right then I would like to let them.”

“You’re too nice.” Jamie flashed her a brief smile, but his look of concern quickly returned. “As long as they stay away from that prick though, yeah? If they’re still friends with him and ever let him near you again then I’ll kill them all.”

While she would never let him actually hurt anyone, his protectiveness filled her with a warmth as it was comforting to know how fiercely he was growing to care for her.

“I don’t doubt you would,” she assured him. “Anyway, how was your day? How was the match?”

Her question had Jamie’s face darkening in a way that she hadn’t expected. She’d heard that the match was a draw and while the team obviously strived for a win, usually anything that wasn’t a loss was still worth celebrating.

“The match was fine. Started off rough, but we pulled out a draw in the end,” he informed her. “Got some interesting news after though, Zava is coming to play for Richmond.”

“Zava? Who’s Zava?”

“Apparently one of the best footballers in the world.”

“Well, that’s good news, isn’t it?” Lia watched as her question simply earned a shrug of his shoulders. “Are you not happy about it?”

��Dunno, I guess so.”

It was clear from his huffy tone and sullen face that he really wasn’t thrilled about the team’s new player and Lia shifted slightly on the couch before reaching out to Jamie.

“C’mere,” she requested, relieved when Jamie didn’t hesitate before coming over. He settled on the couch beside her and rested his head in her lap. She immediately let her fingers run through his hair in the way she’d discovered he found rather soothing before pressing him a little more. “You don’t sound like you’re happy about it.”

“He’s a good player and he’ll help us win games,” Jamie admitted. “But he’s also a selfish prick. Everyone gave me a hard time for being like that and I worked hard to change, but now they’re acting like he’s some kinda gift from God.”

The tinge of jealousy in his voice helped Lia understand just what the problem was. Jamie was used to being the best - to being the hero on the team - and his position in that role was threatened by the arrival of another similarly talented player.

“Maybe he wants to change too,” she gently suggested. “If he’s so good, surely he could have joined any team in the world. If he’s choosing to join Richmond instead of a more prestigious club then maybe he’s drawn to how well you all play together and wants to be more of a team player.”

“Doubt it,” Jamie pouted. “Probably just wants the fame of swooping in to save us.”

“Richmond doesn’t need saving,” she assured him. “You’re a great team already, even without Zava.”

Jamie pressed a kiss against her thigh as he mumbled out a quiet ‘thanks, babe’ before a silence settled between them.

It seemed that they both had a lot on their minds, but Lia was relieved to know that they were in it all together. She knew that no matter what she decided to do about Katie - or however the situation unfolded - Jamie would be by her side through it all. Thinking back to how things had been only a few short months ago, it was amazing how close they’d become and how natural it all felt. The strength and comfort she took from his presence and the contentedness she felt simply curling up on the couch with his head in her lap had her realizing just how happy she was to have him in her life and as he sighed happily when she scratched lightly at his scalp, she started to realize just how deep her feelings for him were becoming.

[i-have-a-wonky-eye-too]

The Florist next-door... Part 13

Andy Barber x reader series

<Part 12<

Jacob had decided to help you out at your store today instead of staying at home. Andy didn't mind. He imagined the house felt differently to Jacob now after what had transpired there the day before. Andy was actually glad for the peace and quiet as he sat in the house on his own. There was somethings he needed to look over, thanks to a friend that owed him a favour.

"Andy?"

Andy looked up with a scowl as Laurie stood in the doorway of his office. "Get out."

"Please. We have to talk about this." She pleaded stepping into the room.

"There's nothing to talk about, Laurie." He glared at her.

"Don't you want to try and save our marr-"

"OUR MARRIAGE ENDED YEARS AGO!" He shouted angrily at her as he stood up. "Don't try and lie your way out if this, okay?"

"It was just a one time thing, I swear." Laurie cried.

Andy scoffed and grabbed the papers beside him before he marched round his desk and shoved them towards her. "Hundreds of texts, phone calls... Pictures, videos of you and at least three different guys... All over the last three years..." He laughed darkly. "So no, it wasn't a one time thing." He snapped at her. "But you know, which one hurts the most? Which one is so hard to believe?"

Laurie shook his head, "I don't-"

"Him!" Andy snarled. "How could you, Laurie? He's a monster!"

"SHE DESERVED IT!" Laurie hit her fists against his chest. "She took you, from me. I had to!"

Andy shoved her away from him, "I wasn't having an affair with her!" He shouted. "All these years, you've accused me when it was you. You were the one fucking other men. And yet, you're still hell bent on making me the bad guy." Andy shook his head, "Why him?" He asked her.

"... You know what he said when I told him the two of you were having an affair?" She let out dry chuckle. "He said, it was only fair that we did the same to make it even." She smirked to herself. "And I don't regret any of it."

Andy's eyes stung with tears as he glared at her. "You're a psycho... He nearly killed her, all because you were jealous-"

"I WASN'T JEALOUS!" She hit him again.

Andy grabbed her hands and pushed her against the wall. "I NEARLY LOST HER!"

"Why do you care?"

"Because I love her." Andy glared at her, his eyes wild like a beast. "I'll never forgive you, for this."

"How dare you stand there and yell at me for what I've done? You're just as bad as me, Andy!" Laurie spat at him.

"OUR SON CAUGHT YOU, LAURIE!" Andy yelled. "It's that, that pisses me off more than anything." He pushed her away from him and towards the door. "Get out! Now!"

"Andy, please-"

"I don't want to hear it." Andy grabbed the door handle and opened the front door, once again pushing Laurie out. "I want nothing more to do with you. I'll see you in court!"

"What?"

"You think I'm gonna let you have custody of, Jacob, after this?" He scoffed. "Oh, and don't even try to bother, Y/N. Expect a restraining order." He slammed the door shut.

Andy let out a scream as he punched the wall repeatedly, letting his tears fall. He nearly lost you, because of them!

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

"You didn't need to pay him, Y/N." Andy smiled tiredly as the two of you and Jacob tucked into dinner.

Jacob gasped. "What? I worked hard."

You chuckled. "It's true, Andy." You smiled at him.

Andy rolled his eyes playfully. "If you're sure."

Silence settled between the three of you as you continued to eat until Jacob cleared his throat.

"Mom, called me today." He said as he played with his food.

You glanced at Andy before looking back down at your food. "I wondered why you punched that bunch of flowers." You looked back up at Jacob with a teasing smile.

His cheeks reddened as he kept his gaze down. "Sorry." He frowned. "She just..." He shook his head. "I hate her." He banged his fist against the table making everything rattle.

"Jacob," Andy warned softly making him apologize to you. "What did she say to you?" Andy asked.

Jacob looked up at him. "She said, when she spoke to you today, you admitted to having an affair with, Y/N."

You looked at Andy a little panicked. He hadn't mentioned anything to you about speaking to Laurie.

He let out a heavy sigh and looked at you before looking at Jacob. "I... Never said that..." He sighed. "Jacob, things are complicated right now... And the situation with your mom, is completely different to... What's going on with... Y/N and I." Andy said making both of you look at him.

"How?" Jacob asked.

Andy frowned, "Jacob, I don't want to-"

"Just tell me, dad. I'm not a kid." Jacob said.

Andy looked at you momentarily, "Fine..." He nodded, "I've never cheated on your mom before, okay?" Jacob nodded. "Your mom's been... having affair after affair for the last three years. Did she tell you that?..." Andy scoffed as he shook his head. "For years, she's thrown accusations at me... When..." He lowered his head with a deep sigh. He looked up and smiled at you softly, "I... I Love, Y/N. I have for a while. But I've, we've, tried to hide our feelings because it was wrong." Andy admitted as he placed his hand on top of yours. "M'sorry, Jacob. I was going to ask your mom for a divorce months ago, but then everything happened with the trial and I didn't want to put you through more stress. But then, we sort of... Realised, we felt the same about one another and-" Andy dropped his head into his hands. "I understand if you hate me." He looked up to Jacob. "But I can't stop myself from feeling the way I do, Jacob... I won't."

Jacb sat quietly for a few minutes as he focused on playing with his food before he looked back up at both of you. "I don't hate you dad. Not for loving someone who actually loves you." Jacob smiled softly at you. "I kinda figured there was something going on anyway."

You groaned and dropped your head into yours hands. "We're terrible liars, right?" You joked making Jacob laugh.

"Really bad." He looked at Andy. "I thought you'd be better, dad, being a lawyer."

You nodded laughing, "He has a point." You smirked at Andy.

Andy rolled his eyes as you and Jacob laughed. "Okay, can we change the subject please?"

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

You sat in your greenhouse a couple of hours later, taking a quiet moment to yourself as Andy and Jacob cleaned up after dinner. You tried to protest, but Andy sent you out of the way with a glass of wine and said they'd clear up since you had cooked dinner. It was nice. Demostic almost.

The truth was you were terrified of the next step. You were so close to finally being happy, but there was a part of you that was starting to convince the rest that things were going to crumble. Maybe you and Andy wouldn't get happiness together. Maybe you just weren't meant to be happy.

"Fahk," Andy shut your greenhouse door behind him hurriedly. He wiped the rain off his face before shaking the excess off his arms.

You looked up from where you'd be starring into space and smiled at him. "When did it start raining?" You asked as you looked out ad finally noticed the rain.

"Just as I started walking down here." He chuckled and sat down beside you on the small bench holding a fresh bottle of wine up. "Jacob, went back home to play his game." He rolled his eyes playfully making you smile. "So, I brought more wine... Thought you might need a top up." He smiled as he poured more into your glass then some into his own. He sat back once he'd put the bottle onto the ground and slipped his arm around your shoulders, pulling you into his side. "Hmm... This is nice." He said with closed eyes. The sound of the rain hitting the glass soothing as the two of you sat in silence, just being with one another.

You hummed, once again drifting off into your own little world.

After a few minutes Andy turned his head to look at you. "You gonna tell me what's bugging you?" He asked.

You shook your head, "It's nothing."

"Sweetheart, I know there's something... Talk to me." He smiled lovingly at you.

You drew in a deep breath and looked down at your glass. "I was just thinking about everything that's happened." You whispered.

Andy nodded looking off, "A lot has happened recently, hasn't it?" You nodded. "Are you having second thoughts?" He asked looking at you.

"No." You shook your head. "I think I'm just, scared." You admitted.

Andy frowned, "Of what?"

"When I married my ex, I used to think I was so in love. That he loved me to the moon and back and he'd do anything he could to show me just how much he loved me." You chuckled at how stupid you were. "But then, slowly, over time I realised... He had just manipulated me. He just wanted to control me... He didn't love me." You frowned. "When I started to have feelings for you... At first, I convinced myself it was just a crush, you know? You were this older, handsome guy, who was a great dad and, you were charming and funny... But then, you helped me through the hardest time of my life, and I found myself falling completely in love with you... And I couldn't have you... It killed me. I hated myself every day for having butterflies in my belly whenever you smiled at me or called me sweetheart."

"Sweetheart," Andy cooed.

"It's true... I'm scared, because look at us now." You smiled softly. "What if things start to go wrong because, we're allowed to be like this? What if, we spend time together that's not sneaking around and you decide this isn't what you want? What if, it was my fault my ex treated me the way he did and you-" You drew in a shaky breath as you looked down to your hands that were wrapped around your wine glass.

Andy closed his eyes feeling sick at the thought. "Sweetheart, none of that is true." He whispered and sat up so he could look at you better. "You're ex was a bully and a psycho. And... Laurie, didn't help the matter." He sighed heavily.

"What do you mean?" You asked him.

Andy sat back with a heavy breath. "I asked a friend of mine that owed me a favour to do some digging into Laurie's affair. I knew she'd try to lie her way out of it. That's how I found out about the multiple affairs." He frowned. "But, I also found out that... She slept with... your ex-husband."

Your face fell and mouth hung open as you stared at him in shock. "She-"

"M'sorry, sweetheart." Andy placed his left hand on your knee. "I wish it wasn't true."

You shook your head, "I should have known." You sighed. "He cheated on me before, when we were just dating. He gave me this speil about never having been one for relationships before so it was all new to him. He convinced me it wouldn't happen again because he loved me... Jesus, how fucking stupid was I to marry that asshole!"

Andy sighed, "You weren't stupid, Y/N."

"No, I was..." You huffed. "I should have pressed fucking charges against that bitch." You scowled at the ground as you thought about Laurie.

Andy stared at you with wide eyes, shocked by your outburst before he began laughing. "You don't need to worry about her anymore, sweetheart. I'll deal with her." He smiled softly at you.

"My knight in shining armour." You smiled at him, placing your hand on his that still laid on your knee. You let out a soft gasp as. You looked down and ran your fingertips over the pale strip of skin where his wedding ring used to be. "You took it off."

Andy leaned in close to you and grinned. "No need for it anymore." He moved his hand to cup your cheek. "Although, I hope to see another one there soon." He winked at you teasingly making you blush. He leaned in and kissed you softly, making you moan softly into his mouth.

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[harrowharks-iliac-crest]

33

Sixth skull!

Your annoyance turned to suspicion when it became clear that the thalergy signature was following you—it was keeping careful pace about a hundred metres behind you, stalking your path.

Ohhh, interesting. Who could this be?

Your voice did not feel like it belonged to you when you said, “I saw your corpse.” “Well,” said Camilla Hect steadily, “don’t tell everyone, or they’ll want to see it too.”

Camilla! Camilla!!!! Eeeeeeeee!!

Time to give her a letter, Harrow!!

You looked at the cavalier of the Sixth, and you bled.

Your brain trying to make sense of the cognitive dissonance, I'm sure. You saw her die - question it, if you can.

What does the letter say?

“For service previously rendered by your House: invoke the rock that remains ever unrolled, and understand that I will both consider your life as inviolate, and aid you if I can. Thanks.” [...] “I suppose you thought you owed us,” said Camilla.

In Harrow's fake memories, Camilla and Palamedes died too quickly to be owed favours. This has got to be messing with her brain big time.

“I need to know you are real!” [...] I am a Lyctor, Hect. What hope would you have against me?” “None,” said Camilla. And then she added calmly: “Yet.”

How perfectly terrifying. I mean, I know what Camilla is capable of - Harrow needs to watch her back here.

you are dead.” “I’m really not,” she said. And, after a pause, in her dry abrupt voice: “I came to find you, Reverend Daughter.” “You have found me. Tell me for what purpose.”

How did Camilla find her? Things are getting so interesting.

You tried to recall Palamedes Sextus, and your ears renewed their liquid assault. When you hastily scanned your brain for the source, you found nothing particularly wrong, and it made you bleed more.

Nothing particularly wrong? Nothing particularly wrong??? Harrow, the evidence that your memories are false is standing RIGHT IN FRONT OF YOU!!!!!

Harrow dips into the River to find Palamedes -

“Excuse me,” you said, with sodden asperity. “Oh. Apologies,” said Palamedes Sextus. “Misread the moment. Let’s call it cabin fever. Nonagesimus, is Camilla—” “She sent me,” you said, wringing out your wet hem. “She is alive and well and living.” [...] there had never, in any case, been a letter addressed to Sextus. The previous Harrow had never bothered to think of it. You knew full well she had seen Hect and Sextus dead; why account for one’s reappearance, but not the other’s? This was a mystery you had no answer for;

At the risk of your brain bleeding out - think about it, Harrow. Please just stop avoiding this, stop taking your memories as absolute truth - you're insane in this timeline, remember? - and think.

What an impressive feat Palamedes Sextus has done here, by the way. My respect for him grows.

Sextus was saying, “The hell is—” You said, and your voice sounded strange to yourself, as though you had heard the word only in dreams and never articulated by waking tongues: “The Sleeper.”

Oh fuck.

I can’t change a thing about this space—but anyone coming to me could change the parameters, and you’ve brought something with you that’s changing them. Go.”

Something in Harrow is doing spirit magic????? is capable of bringing the Sleeper to a dead guy's river bubble??

Welp, suddenly I'm wondering if Ortus the First has anything to do with this - as the most powerful spirit magician we know. But how??? what????

You were standing in a darkened corridor, and you could not turn around: and then a brief explosion of light revealed to you that it wasn’t a corridor at all, and it had never been dark. But you were always too quick to mourn your own ignorance. You never could have guessed that he had seen me.

........

....................

.....................................

......... I'm actually in shock.

Suddenly, second-person narration turns into first, only for one single word, at the end of the chapter. Suddenly, for only a couple of sentences, the narrator isn't Harrow. And perhaps - never has been.

... (I barely dare to hope...)

...

... Gideon?????