#She was trying to live her ideal and he “got in the way” and darkened everything

[memories-break-our-fall]

listening to coney island and I NEED TO SCREAM ABOUT HILDA AND HILBERT LISSIVERSE

[angeli-marco-writes]

Sam Holland - Don't Tell

A/N & WC - This is not meant to glorify or condone adultery in any way. I do not know Sam, nor do I claim to, this is a work of fiction. This was written before Sam posted about a new girlfriend: no disrespect is meant towards her. I do not believe Sam would do this: it is fictitious. 3.5k.

Warnings - Adultery, explicit smut, unprotected sex, swearing, reader is the other woman, swearing, brief allusions to SA. 18+.

Summary - When Sam booty calls you, you can't deny him, but will sexual satisfaction be enough? Or will you always want from him what you know you can't have?

THIS WASN’T HOW YOU’D PLANNED to spend your Saturday afternoon, but Sam called, and who were you to deny him?

‘Come over at 3.’ He texted you. ‘She’s leaving then.’

No kisses, no emojis, no frills, no sign off, nothing. You’re just a nameless number in his phone. You knew what it meant. You’ve done it plenty of times before, so you know the drill, it’s just not exactly pleasant.

With ample time, you left your house, your new place only a couple of streets over from the Holland household, and you walked as inconspicuously as possible. Your coat wrapped tightly around you, you refused to make eye contact with anyone on the whole walk there.

You know the drill so well by now that you know not to stick to the front of the house, but instead to head around the back—straight into his bedroom window—via the bins. Theoretically, with no one home and Sam in the living room, you could walk in the front door, but his room is safest since she has always refused to enter—’just in case.’

Your heart thuds against your chest while you hold your breath, praying not to be heard downstairs the second your feet land on his floor. You press yourself flat against the wall behind Sam’s door, lips pursed and eyes squeezed shut, every muscle in your body clenched to the maximum. You’ve trained yourself to stay so quiet that the only sounds are your pounding, racing heart and the blood rushing in your ears.

Thankfully, before cramp can override you, you hear the words that give you the all clear.

“Bye, love!” he calls down the driveway, followed by a half hearted air kiss, a deafening crunching on the gravel driveway, and the front door at last clicking shut.

Your body finally relaxes, limbs falling loosely around you while you release one of the longest held breaths you’ve ever had.

You creak open Sam’s bedroom door, ready for him to meet you, and shrug your coat off, throwing it on the floor alongside your converse when you hear him coming upstairs. He gets like this, heavy steps and heaved breaths like they’re a strain on his body, and it usually means he’s extra horny.

“What took so long, lover boy?” you tease, standing scantily clad in his door frame, leaning against the painted wood.

His eyes darken with lust as he approaches you, his shadow from the landing already overpowering.

This isn’t like any sex or ‘relationship’ you’ve ever been in before. It’s risky, and that risk makes it so much hotter. Always leaving the door open just a crack so that the two of you could be found only by those closest to Sam, the chance of being caught together in the street on the off chance you go for drinks; after all, your reputation precedes you. But it’s the adulterous element of your relationship that makes it so fun. The fact that it’s usually after his girlfriend leaves that you’re called over to relieve his not-so-little ‘problem’, the little marks you trail across the hidden parts of his body, occasionally being risky enough to plant one on the juncture of his neck and shoulder just to test the waters.

After being together for over two years, she still refuses to do anything with him. Of course you respect such a thing: if she wants to wait till marriage and is able to resist Sam for that long, props to her. It’s just not always ideal for all party members. Sure, they’ve kissed, a little groping, but by this point, with how little Sam's lass has done with him, he’s immensely riled up.

He really likes his girlfriend, of course he does, and he’s spoken to her about this time and time again, asking why they couldn’t just do something more than a PG-12 touching session. She simply shook her head and smiled every time, “I’m saving myself for marriage, Sammy.” This infuriated him hugely. He’s been with a girl or two (or ten) before her, so is very expectant, but being twenty-two has its burdens. He isn’t anywhere near ready for marriage, but is increasingly sexually frustrated. So after an insane year of getting by with absolutely no action apart from the rare lap dance and make out, he knew he had to do something besides use his own hand to relieve the tension that was making him a complete prick.

He respects his girlfriend enough not to pressure her. Sam isn’t a bad person and so he isn’t going to coerce his girlfriend into sex she doesn’t want, seeing it as utterly immoral, so he did the only thing he could think of, and turned to the girl next door, quite literally. Not that it’s any more moral, but here you are.

As soon as he reaches you, the smirk etched upon his face is perfect, just what you expect, and his hands grip your waist tightly.

“You think you’re so cheeky,” he smirks, and his lips crash onto yours the next moment, his hands spanning your sides. His affection halts as he smacks the side of your ass. “I’ll show you cheeky.”

You don’t let him get another word in before you’re kissing him again, furiously this time, hooking one leg around his waist as the other flies to his neck, your clasp anything but gentle.

You’ve known of the Holland family for a while, living a street away, going to school with the boys and your mother having ‘neighbourhood meetings’ with the family. You, however, had had nothing to do with them, never getting involved in their ordeals, not really.

Keeping a resolutely ‘good girl’ demeanour all through school was difficult, especially when you wanted to rebel so earnestly. The first step was house parties, beginning when you were in year ten, everyone getting shit-faced and ending up giving sloppy hand-jobs in someone’s downstairs loo. That much you weren’t a fan of, so you waited until the end of school, A-Levels secured to be who you wanted to be. Trench coats, docs and chucks at every turn, short shorts and fishnets. Lots of hair dye came next, followed by a ‘scandalous’ collection of piercings, and a significant body count for someone your age, or so conservative old women perceived. Fuck them, your body your choice.

Times changed in a year and a half, though not that much. Mid way through your rebellion, you got a good job, your own place, and became a call girl, essentially. Sam’s call girl only, considering your regrettable soft spot for him.

You couldn’t care less though, even though it’s adulterous, Sam is incredible in bed. He frequently tells you the same.

“I think you’re rubbing off on me,” he murmurs, “even when she was kissing me I could only think of you.” His lips are inches from yours with your breath mingling in the confined space of his doorway as you pant.

He hasn’t touched you yet, or even moved you to the bed. You feel yourself blush a little, scared fractionally by what he’s saying but mostly flattered. At least that’s what you’re telling yourself. It makes you feel like your old self is creeping in again, the girl next door that no one fell for.

“I like it when you get all shy on me, really naïve, shows me you’re a human and not just a sex goddess. My sex goddess.”

You pull his lips to yours with a burning passion, desperate to feel him up against you. Your palms settle this time on Sam's cheeks, angling his face to get the most out of the kiss, and your hold remains resolute so that he can’t pull away easily. This isn’t your dominance though, simply a ploy to hide your flushed cheeks from his prying eyes, the blush that’s been caused by his kind words. You want to keep him here long enough that you can claim the blush is from the breathlessness and the actions of his tongue slipping inside your mouth with an urgency you haven’t felt with him for a while. Is this the day that changes everything?

He backs you to the bed, walking unsteadily, and pushes you down onto the springy mattress. It pitches beneath you as he joins you, sitting by your side, his hand gravitating towards your thigh.

“Hey, what is it?” you ask, a slight hesitant stammer to your words.

“Nothing,” he sulks. “Just dunno how long I can keep doing this.”

His baleful eyes hover over your decolletage, and before you can protest and try to get him to open up about the whole situation, discussing the fact that maybe you should just quit while you’re ahead and come clean (because to be fair, it’s beginning to weight on your conscience too, even though you’ve never met said girlfriend), he kisses you, pinching your nipple through your bra until it forms a pebbled bud.

“Gonna take it all out on you,” he hisses, moving his kisses to your jaw. “All this pent up need from missing your body. God, feel so good beneath me.”

He swings a leg over to straddle your legs, and begins a ferocious attack on your neck with his teeth. You’ll have fun at work tomorrow, trying to hide them from your co-workers, one of them (on a temp basis, at least) being Sam’s twin. Harry cottoned on pretty easy, and won’t say a word, because he doesn’t want to deal with Sam’s temper when he’s been denied sex for too long. He likes Sam’s girlfriend, sure, but she doesn’t compromise on anything and looks down her nose at the lot of them, so he considers it fair play. And besides, with his track record, he really doesn’t have a leg to stand on.

Unwittingly, your hips buck up to meet his, feeling his throbbing need pressing against your pelvis, only for him to draw his body away from you, a bruising kiss being pressed to your lips the next moment. All in a flurry, your top is pulled down, your chest revealed to him.

“Bloody love your tits,” he purrs, a feral grin contorting his freckled face.

He rolls your pert bud between the rough pads of his fingers, palming at the other breast so as not to neglect it, only swapping when you’re beginning to writhe under him. His grin only increases.

“Sam… please.”

He knows what you want when you whine that way, so he sits up on his shins, and lets you tear his shirt open. Button by button, you watch as every inch of his pale chest is bared to you, his happy trail coaxing you lower.

“Get on with it, then,” he warns, clamping a hand around your hair in order to control your movements. He does this a lot, it’s his main power move. “They’re too damn tight now you’re around.”

You can definitely see that, the denim of his jeans pulled taut around his torso, the waistband of his boxers peeking above. He begins to pluck at your nipples again while you fumble with his buckle and zip, eventually tugging both items of clothing down at once. He stands, his lanky frame just a blur of white and freckles as he removes every last item, prowling back to you on the bed.

You, however, have other ideas, tugging him down with a grip on his shoulders until he’s helpless beneath you. In the time he was distracted with shucking his jeans off at last, you peeled your own shirt off and put your bra right. Sam’s a boob man, always has been, and takes great pleasure in fastening and unfastening your bras as much as he can, nestling into your chest for the time you spend together.

Since your last rodeo, you’ve gained some weight, and filled out a tad more, something Sam seems to notice right about now, especially as your chest hovers just inches from his face.

“Well? Are you gonna stare at them all day or take it off?”

This man… this man has the fucking audacity to lick his lips as one hand works on the hooks at the back of your bra, the other skimming the edges of the cups before it falls into his hands and he flings it across the room, knocking something off his dresser.

As soon as it's out of his way, he seems to forget everything apart from you, his eyes mesmerised by your chest, his mouth gaping a little, his eyes lingering on your hardened nipples for perhaps just a moment too long. You sigh to yourself, letting your knees dig into his navy comforter before your fingers wrap around his hand and place it onto your right breast. You know that, if you let him stare long enough, you’ll get nothing done. You need this release as much as he does. He takes the message, though, and begins kneading the flesh with a need you haven’t seen from him before. You even catch a wolfish grin when your face contorts into a silent ‘o’, overcome with pleasure. He tweaks your one nipple, and leans up to capture the other in his kiss-swollen lips, lavishing kisses around the sensitive area. You can’t help your nails leaving faint scratch marks in their wake over his freckled shoulders, tracing the silhouettes beneath his skin of muscle and bone, finding constellations within the freckles until he’s quaking beneath your delicate touch…

“Why’re you being such a tease?” he whines.

He has a point, you’re grinding down on his clothed cock in tandem with his playing with your boobs, your core hovering over his hard member, but it’s only fair with the stimulation he’s offering you. Just to shut him up, in one swift move you pull his boxers down and reach down to grasp him, stroking a couple of times before inching down, swallowing his aching length into your welcoming, warm walls.

Your moans create a heavenly sympathy, even as you stop for a moment to adjust to his size a little more, placing your hands on his pecs before grinding down on him. His hips begin to move, thrusting upwards and into you, finding a satisfying pace in tandem for you both as you ride him like there’s no tomorrow.

“Baby…” he moans, reaching out with his lips puckered to wrap them around your exposed nipple, suckling viciously, hard enough to hurt just a little.

“Stand up,” you command authoritatively, with a softness to your tone despite.

He grows harder inside of you, barely suppressing a groan, but his plan fails from shock when you bend over, clenching the foot of his bed so tightly your knuckles begin to turn white.

Casting a sensual glance over your shoulder, you bat your lashes and coax him the only way you know how, a wiggle of your bum added to help convince him; “Fuck me, Sammy…”

Your gasp is shrill and loud when he enters your craving core from behind, your knees nearly buckling when a stream of expletives falls from his lips once he grabs your hips, settling there. You’re sure to have hand-shaped imprints there tomorrow, but you don’t care, and apparently neither does Sam as he continues to thrust into you at an inhuman pace.

Breathy moans escape your lips as your nails find purchase in the sheets, now crumpled in your clenched fists. The only thing that fills your ears other than skin slapping against skin is the myriad of colourful words spilling from Sam in a groan, right down your ear.

“y/n… please…” he hums nonsensically, his lips finding their way to your shoulder blade and neck, kissing you, suckling.

He’s such a hypocrite: one rule for him, one rule for you, just because he’s got a girlfriend and is too pussy to break up with her even though his needs aren’t being met. For a brief moment, your body being used for his pleasure—and bringing you simultaneous heavenly satisfaction—you’re able to forget the consequences of your fornications.

They slip your mind once again the second one of his rough hands slowly makes its way down your front, finding your clit as he begins to rub harsh circles on it.

“Fuck…” you cry out, only for the heel of that hand to press into your pelvis, the other snaking around to your neck, applying the faintest pressure. Your walls tighten around him at the double stimulation.

His hips begin to move faster, blissful moans filling the room in symphony as you both near your highs, his tip grazing your special spot on every single thrust.

“C’mon,” he purrs in your ear, “can feel how close you are…” the pressure on your engorged pearl becomes a constant, and your body begins to spasm with unbridled pleasure. “Come.”

You do, and fireworks spark behind your eyes, setting off a train reaction in your brain, your walls clenching and your body collapsing, chest first, onto the edge of the bed. You must’ve cried out at some point, but your scream became but a gasp with his hand snug around your throat.

His thrusts slow, and he aids you onto the bed by your waist, but you roll away from him, aware that he hasn’t climaxed yet. He follows you down as your fingers link around his neck, but he’s not satisfied with that—as the smirk playing on his lips, causing dimples in his freckles, tells you—so he hovers above you on his knees. The hairs on his shins grate against the duvet cover so he shifts, but your hands move from his neck to his cheeks, pulling him closer to tangle your tongues together. His erection teases your wet folds while you’re lost in the movements of your mouths, and before you know it, he’s entering you again, and your hands are getting lost in his dark, silky locks, his one hand roughly kneading your breast. His thrusts recommence at a slower pace than before, his heels digging into the mattress as his groans overpower yours in the otherwise silent room.

“Shit… oh my God—” he hisses.

He begins to move faster, so you tug at his hair, revelling in the praises he offers, eliciting various heavy moans from his preoccupied mouth in between kisses. His warm breath and the resverberation of the moan vibrate across your lips, causing your hips to rock further into his, your legs wrapping around his toned torso to give him better access to your eager core. His movements become deeper as your breathing becomes even more escalated with high pitched moans tearing from your throat each time he hits your g-spot so perfectly. The knock-on effect sends him into an even more euphoric state, and before you know it, he’s groaning your name down your ear, and painting your walls white.

“Yes, Sammy…”

Your nails leave scratch marks all over his back from the sheer height of pleasure you’re experiencing, and that seems to be what sent him over the edge, his cum seeping into you as you milk his cock. He throbs inside you, his pelvis hitting you perfectly as he thrusts lazily while emptying himself. With one final press of his long, skilled thumb and digits over your sensitive nipple and a harsh bite to your pulse point just below your ear, the bundle of lust in your stomach becomes undone as you finish once again.

Before you’re fully recovered, he’s pulling out and leaving you empty as you lie together for a moment on opposite sides of the bed, no contact other than your pinky fingers linked and overlapping in between you. Except… despite the pleasure, you’re not satisfied. Not at all. And you know, in your heart, that this can’t happen again.

“Don’t tell anyone, please.”

“As fucking if,” you mumble.

“You ok?” he asks after a moment.

“Yes, just fine,” you snap, and roll off the bed, beginning to ferret around for your clothes.

“y/n, no…” Sam moves to grapple for you, “why are you leaving?”

“Because I’m done being treated like shit by you. Used as your fuck-toy when you’re too much of a pussy to deal with your girlfriend… I’m done, Sam.”

He’s up and off the bed, shucking his jeans on with great force that causes him to trip back onto the bed as you adjust your top and zip your skirt back up.

“y/n!”

“What!” you bellow right back at him.

He shuffles his feet on the carpet, and moves to speak, but his jaw just hangs open like a fish, nothing coming out.

“Yeah, I’m done here, Sam. Don’t booty-call me again.”

A weary voice from behind you calls out, “Sam?”

Shit.

This is bad. This is very bad. But what can you do? You’re the other woman, he’s the one choosing to commit adultery: why is that your problem? He can deal with his (clearly very angry) girlfriend, so livid she’s shaking, once you’re gone.

“Yeah. Your ‘don’t tell’ plan worked real good, Sammy. Karma’s a bitch,” you spit, spinning on my heels and waltzing out the door.

You mean it: you’re done. At least until he breaks up with her and undoubtedly calls back. You want him, there's no question about that, but you want him all to yourself: and that's a secret you won't tell.

[fuxkingmarvel]

Party Favors

Summary: Cops are called after a noise complaint. The town’s sheriff arrives at your Halloween Party.

Pairing: Modern Day Lee Bodecker x Reader

Warnings: smut, oral sex (male), degrading language, manipulation, age gap (reader is 20)

Parents gone for the weekend.

What better way to celebrate Halloween? It’s a small town and your house was the ideal place for a party!

“Are you okay?” You questioned as your best friend pointed to the window.

“Hello... don’t tell me you’re hiding from your ex” you laughed trying to lighten the mood as she shook her head.

“No. Worse. I think someone called the cops” Your friend bit her lip, as she grabbed her purse.

“Look, I don’t need to get some ticket by the sheriff. I think I’m just going to head out before he comes.” You sighed lightly at your friends words.

Great! Leave me here with this mess, even though you helped plan the damn party.

Before you knew it, the siren of the sheriff’s cop car alerted everyone. Some of the less drunken students got the memo and began to scatter away. While others, truly didn’t give a damn.

You groaned lightly, peeking through the blinds of the window to see Sheriff Bodecker exit his car.

You watched as he walked with confidence towards your front door. Your eyes roaming him from top to bottom. He could definitely manhandle you if he wanted. Clearly, he was way too old for you.

But god, did he look good in a uniform.

“We meet again, Miss Y/N. You know I thought after your first year in college, you would have learned your lesson” Bodecker explained but the only thing you could concentrate on was the way his tongue played with the toothpick in his mouth.

Your eyes fixacted on the other ways he could put his tongue into use.

“Y/N”

You try to hide your blush before meeting his eyes. “Sorry Sheriff... What’s the problem here?” You question shyly, your arms crossed as you lean against your front door.

He licked his lips, his eyes roaming your body lingering a little too long on your breasts. Maybe that was your fault as you decided to dress up as a sexy devil, the outfit exentuating your breasts dangerously so.

He chuckles dramatically. “You drunk, darlin’... because that’s a stupid question if you ask me”. You choke on his words, your face feeling hot.

“Got a noise complaint. It is Halloween after all.” Lee casually states, stepping in close as he tries to peek into your house. His hands press on your hips and you could smell his cologne.

“Mind if I check the premise” He raises an eyebrow. “Unless you’re hiding something from me...” You shake your head, widening your door, as your house is now empty. The last stranglers leaving through the back door.

Lee steps inside. Empty red cups carelessly thrown on the rug and table. Busted beer cars on the side. Even accessories from people’s outfits are on the floor. He shakes his head as he kicks the can.

“Quite some party you had, darlin” You cross your legs from the way his new nickname for you, rolls off his tongue.

“Now, where is he?” You furrow your eyebrows, watching Lee’s movements as he enters the kitchen. He places his sheriff hat on the counter. You follow behind him.

“Who?”

“Your boyfriend.”

You start to clean up the cans off the floor. Embarrassed by the mess from the party. “In my dreams” you simply state, laughing nervously as you dump the cans into a garbage bag.

Lee walks behind you, trapping you between the kitchen counter. He lifts your chin up, his blue eyes boring into yours. Goosebumps shooting up on your skin.

“Now, don’t lie to me” his voice becomes lower and rougher. “Someone has to be takin’ good care of this cunt. Maybe Arvin Russell... he’s about your age” You gasp at his words, your body becoming tense as you fingers wrap around the marbel counter.

Lee spreads your thighs in an instant, his slight hard on throbbing against you.

“I leave you with too many warnings. I think this time, you return the favor” he smirks slyly, his thumb stroking your cheek and then your lips. You open your mouth slightly and Lee pushes his thumb inside. Your tongue swirling around him as his eyebrows jump up in suprise and a smirk grows on your face.

You weren’t expecting this for the night, but you craved Bodecker for the longest.

Always imagined how he tasted, how good he was in bed. Lee was right. He gave you multiple warnings throughout your college years. Your friends stating the Sheriff had a weird secret obsession with you.

“He’s a sad lonely fuck, Y/N! His wife left him and now he probably jerks off into Pepsi Cups to the thought of you!” You shook your head and covered your ears. “Guys stop! You don’t know what you’re talking about” Your friends scoffed at your foolishness.

Lee palms himself lightly as you suck on his thumb. Before you knew it, you were popping off his thumb and ready to suck something bigger. You bit your lip in hesitation before sinking down on the hardwood floor. The outline of his cock pushing against his trousers.

“Don’t act like you didn’t want this for the longest. I see the way you look at me. Come on, take out my cock, darlin. Play with it.” He breaths in deeply as his hands find their way through your hair.

You fumble with his zipper before pulling him out, your eyes widening at the size. Holy shit... Lee’s eyes darken, grabbing his cock and dragging it against your lips before he uses his cock to slap your cheek. You moan in ecstasy as His pre-cum smears on your lips. You lick your lips before gently sucking on his tip.

Lee groans roughly before pushing himself in your mouth. You whimper lightly as his hand grips your hair pulling it into a makeshift ponytail.

It felt good but so wrong. Your knees digging into your floor as you gave a blowjob to your Town’s sheriff. Nevertheless, you pumped the rest of his shaft but Lee wanted more. He starts finding a frantic rythm causing you to gag.

“Fuck—! You like my big cock.. better than these college boys! Yeah, it is!” He praised thrusting in and out of your mouth as he threw his head back in pleasure. “Just like that, taking my cock like a good little whore” His cock hitting the back of your throat with each thrust, as tears ran down your eyes.

“I always knew you were good for something darlin’, gunna cum in that pretty mouth and you’re going to fuckin’ swallow it all” You whimpered at his words. Your mouth being used as his personal fuck toy.

He rolled his eyes back getting closer to his release before pulling out of you. Your appearance was messy. Mascara running down your face. Your saliva and his pre-cum connecting from your lips to his cock. You looked up at him panting softly, your thighs rubbing against yourself wishing they could get their own release.

“Stick your tongue out, gunna paint your mouth and face” he spat, as he pumped himself fast you opened your mouth fully.

“Fuck— I’m cumming!” His release falling onto your tongue and face. You swallowed him all, even dragging your fingers across your cheeks and sucking on any last remnants of his cum.

You stood up quickly, your nails raking over his body. You wanted more. Kiss him. Have him touch you.

Anything.

Lee stroked your cheek lazily, looking at you with lustful eyes.

“My turn?” You dared to ask, tilting your head as you gave him innocent eyes. You leaned in to kiss him but he pushed you back by your hips.

“What—?”

“This is your punishment, darlin” he put his half softening cock back into his boxers, lifting up his trousers and zipping himself up. He grabbed his sherrif hat from the counter and placed it on his head. You whined lightly at his actions following him like a little puppy.

“That’s not fair-! You can’t just—“ you huffed dramatically. Your hormones spiking up with each move.

“Shit, don’t be so dramatic” he slapped your ass roughly before casually heading to your living room. You gasped stopping in your tracks. His cocky attitude peeking through.

“Now I don’t wanna hear another complaint, or Sheriff Bodecker will have to come back again and teach you another lesson.”

“Oh— And Happy Halloween.” He winked at you before striding out your house like nothing had ever happened.

[beyondspaceandstars]

While You Sleep

Chapter 18

Relationship: Bucky Barnes x Reader Warnings: angst Summary: Soulmate!AU - Throughout life, you’re given glimpses of your soulmate through dreams. As you sleep, memories flash in your mind showing you the life your soulmate has lived. Everyone around you raves about how their soulmate reads great books or volunteers in their spare time. But you can’t relate as your dreams end up being more like nightmares. Through initial images of death and violence, you come to learn your soulmate is the Winter Soldier.

A/N: so sorry I’ve been slow with updating Tumblr - my blog was shadowbanned (basically Tumblr hid my blog in searches, notifications, tags, etc.) and it just got fixed so I’m working to update here!

Masterlist | Series Masterlist

“You’re back,” Dr. G smiled as you plopped down in the seat across from her. 

You resisted the urge to roll your eyes and instead forced a tight smile. “I’m back,” you confirmed with a dramatic nod for emphasis. You didn’t know why you were feeling so hostile. You had shown up here willingly this time. 

Bucky didn’t even know you were seeing your therapist again. But it wasn’t exactly like he was around to find out. He had left for his mission yesterday in the very early morning and you were now on constant edge. You didn’t know what he would encounter. You knew none of it was at your clearance level seeing as you had no government clearance level to begin with but still… You didn’t like that anything that went wrong would come back to you in the depths of your sleep. Even if Bucky had shared everything step-by-step, any mishap was another blow. Even if everything went right, you feared you were bound to see something. 

“Would you like to share anything?” Your therapist asked, disrupting your spiraling thoughts. It was like she knew and, well, maybe she did. You really did kind of suck at hiding your emotions. You could practically feel your face darkening with worry. 

“Bucky and I learned something about us recently,” you said a bit nervously but Dr. G nodded in encouragement. You tried to steady your breathing and continued, “Our soulmate bond has been disrupted. It happened when he was part of Hydra — I mean, not like part of. That makes it sound like he joined willingly which he absolutely did not—,”

Your therapist said your name sharply, cutting off your words. “I know what you meant,” she said.

You nodded briefly, recomposing yourself, and began again, “While under Hydra, he was brainwashed and in that process, they thought they had rid him of his soulmate. But, turns out, all they were doing was tampering with the transmission lines. This means any sort of trauma or… or really emotional occurrences in Bucky’s life gets passed along to me, intercepting any, well, normal dreams. And there’s nothing we can do about it.”

“Nothing?”

You glanced away. “Well, I’ve asked him to retire to maybe… minimize the damage.”

Dr. G nodded as she scribbled something on her notepad. She let out an interesting hum. “How did Bucky respond to that?”

You fought back the urge to roll your eyes. You weren’t really upset with him, more angered by the situation. “It took him a second to come around to the idea and, sure, eventually he did but then he was given another mission. A mission he couldn’t turn down.”

“And how did that make you feel?”

Another feeling of annoyance flashed across you at the cliche therapist speak but you could also recognize the question for its worth. Someone was actually asking you how you felt about the new, and last, mission. Lord knows Bucky hadn’t.

You bit your lip, feeling tears already threatening to run down your cheeks. “It made me feel bad, to put it simply. I just felt horrible and scared. I know that with time it’ll go away and maybe we’ll find some peace but I’m just really hurt it has to be this way.”

More notes were scribbled. “How did Bucky react to hearing that?” Dr. G asked without looking up. You shifted awkwardly in your seat, fiddling with your fingers out of habit. Your therapist glanced up once her writing has finished. Her brows raised as you struggled to find an answer.

“He doesn’t really know.”

Your therapist placed her pen on her notepad and leaned forward in her chair, eyeing you a bit upsettingly. “Do you remember what I told you during your last session?”

Talking. Talking, talking, talking. Just let it out. How could you forget? That’s exactly what you had done and while it made some kind of progress, you were still stuck at this godforsaken dead end for the time being. 

You picked at the chair cushion. “He didn’t ask,” you sighed. “Besides, what good was it going to do? I couldn’t have stopped the mission.”

Dr. G shrugged. “No, I doubt you could’ve, but that’s not the point. The point is you’re hurting and your soulmate needs to know this, especially when it involves him. You can’t beat around the bush or try to sidestep this kind of stuff. Be gentle, yes, but little progress can be made if everything is bottled in.”

“Well, doc, I’m sorry to break it to you, but I’m sure he knows very well how I feel about all of this,” you snapped back. “Think I made myself super clear during our first conversation about retirement.”

“Fine,” she shrugged. “Assume he did. Assume Bucky knew everything that was going through your mind. Did it open any conversation?”

Your shoulders slumped. You looked away. 

Dr. G continued, “My point exactly. Of course, you don’t want to hurt him but you can’t hurt yourself in the process. How many people actually knew about the nightmares to begin with?”

“None,” you mumbled. And it was, sadly, the truth. Your coworker was the first to know. You hadn’t even had the guts to tell your parents. 

“I’m sure I make it sound easier than it really is but there are some benefits to it over time,” your therapist said after a moment. 

You let out a dramatic sigh. “You’re kind of annoying, you know that?”

Your therapist laughed. “You’ve been wanting to bite back for a while, haven’t you?” You didn’t answer. She shrugged. “Already testing out those communication skills I see.”

You let yourself roll your eyes this time.

***

It was nearing midnight when your cell phone rang. You jumped, suddenly disturbed by the ringtone as you laid on your couch watching some sitcom reruns. You frowned in confusion as you stretched to reach your phone on the coffee table. You weren’t expecting any calls.

You turned the screen around and were greeted by one name: Bucky. You just about yelped when it registered he was calling you -- and from his mission, amazingly. You sat up quickly and answered.

“Hi, Buck,” you greeted, hopefully sounding a bit more cheerful than you felt. Your therapy session from the morning still had you a bit shaken. 

“Hey, doll,” Bucky responded, his voice a bit hoarse. He sounded exhausted and...defeated. 

You sink into the couch. “Is everything going okay?” You guessed it wasn’t too weird he was reaching out while away but something was off in his voice. You thought you had already mentally prepared for the worst.

“For the most part,” he mumbled. “I have to tell you, sweetheart, it wasn’t smooth sailing. We… We all had to do some things we aren’t proud of.”

You shut your eyes, trying to reel in your panicked brain before you said something you’d regret. This couldn’t all fall on Bucky, it wasn’t fair. He had a job, one final job, and you were going to have to accept that. 

Regaining your voice, you said, “What… What things, Bucky?”

He fell silent on the other end. All you could hear was some soft breathing and others talking in the background. The rest of the team you could guess. You said his name into the receiver again.

“Just know I didn’t like what I had to do and I can’t wait to put this life behind me.”

If that was all you were getting from him, you’d have to accept it. “Okay,” you said, your voice cracking slightly. “I-I understand.” You didn’t really but you knew after tonight you definitely would.

Bucky took another pause. “You deserve so much better than this.”

“Bucky-,”

“You really do, sweetheart.”

“Bucky, please, listen,” you sighed. “While this isn’t ideal and I was very upset you just jumped on this assignment without speaking to me, I know it won’t be like this forever, right? 

“I’m sorry I didn’t talk to you about the assignment before leaving,” Bucky responded. “I-I knew I couldn’t do anything about it but that’s still not fair to you. You deserve to be heard.”

“It’s okay, honey,” you said, fighting back some tears getting ready to start again. “You’re almost done, you’re almost back home.”

Bucky hummed. “I am,” he confirmed. “And when I get back I’m going to make up for all of this, I promise.”

You let out a weak laugh through the tears. “You can make it up to me by getting home safely.”

Bucky was about to say something else but was then cut off by someone yelling at him in the background. He gave a curt response before turning his attention back to you. “Sorry, doll, but I have to go. We have some debriefing to do.”

“Of course,” you said, waving a hand in the air like he could see you. “I’ll see you soon, alright?”

“See you soon, sweetheart,” he said. “Love you.”

The line cut before you had the chance to say the words back. You held your phone out in front of you, staring at your lit homescreen, shocked and overwhelmed. He loved you. And he had said it.

***

You were dreading getting ready to go to sleep but, at the same time, your body was practically begging for it. You were finally getting back into the swing of working and now with therapy sessions on top, you couldn’t believe how exhausting life was. As if you had forgotten at some point. 

But with that craved moment of relaxation, an unnerving threat lurked. 

You practically moved with caution when it came to your nighttime routine now. You washed your face carefully and precisely. You scrubbed every tooth again and again for a good minute. Even combing out your hair seemed to be tedious. 

It was all sad attempts at procrastination and you knew it but what could you do? It wasn’t like you were jumping into bed happily no matter how much your body screamed. 

When there was no more to do in your routine, you had to accept it. You had to finally lay down in your bed, let your head hit the pillow, curl up under the duvet, and welcome whatever kind of sleep was going to greet you. 

Almost immediately, you were hit with everything.

As always, you’re seeing it in glimpses from Bucky’s eyes, from his mind. In this instance, he appears to be located in some kind of warehouse. It almost reminded you of where you had been taken to but abandoned.

At first, Bucky seems pretty calm and collected. He’s assessing his surroundings and mapping out a plan. He says something to the person next to them. You can’t see them and possibly you don’t want to. 

They agree with whatever Bucky has suggested but before their plan can commence, they’re both attacked. Guns blazing, doors busting, a whole goddamn ambush. You’re panicking, you feel Bucky panicking. But it doesn’t last long for him. No, within seconds he’s in destruction mode, stomping towards the pop-up army - you don’t even know what they’re part of - dodging bullets and taking them down one by one. 

Some others are helping out it seems but you’re only allowed to be consumed with Bucky’s take on the situation. Despite how much you don’t want to be, especially when he… You see the glint of his metal arm rush past. They’re dying. Being killed. These soldiers or whatever are dropping left and right around him. You feel Bucky’s pulsing anger. He has no plans of slowing down. You feel the tension in his arm as he strangles another and another and another. At one point, he even throws some across the room.

They’re finished. No more men pour in. The rest of the team has stopped. They’re all looking at Bucky, wide-eyed and nervous. You feel his fury turn to shame. You didn’t know the mission’s expectations but you could guess they didn’t exactly involve this much death. No one says anything as they move on. 

The images fade but the feelings don’t. You suddenly want to cry in your sleep feeling Bucky’s distraught and embarrassment. 

Unable to deal with it anymore, you force yourself awake, everything vanishing as your eyes open. You look around your dark room. The clock beside your bed reads just past three a.m. 

You curl back into your blanket and face the wall. You stare at it for the rest of the night, heart pounding and hands shaking.

[queenmagnusao3]

AO3 Link (COMPLETE)

Lin had been in a bad mood all week.

Kya was leaving in a few days for the South Pole and she’d be gone for a whole month. She wasn’t upset with Kya, they had discussed the expectations of their relationship at length and Lin had said she was okay with the reality that Kya was going to have to be away for various periods of time.

But it didn’t mean she had to like it.                              

She was always in a foul mood right before Kya left… and while she was gone. She tried not to bring it to work with her but it was hard not to. She’d chew out some poor, unsuspecting subordinate before holing herself up in her office. She saw the knowing looks that passed between the select few who were a part of her inner circle.

It had been Mako who had made the connection between her bad moods and Kya’s trips away from the city. He had mentioned it to Saikhan who had grown a pair and said something to Lin directly. He had left her office pretty quickly, nobody speaking of it again.

But they knew. And she was honestly glad they knew.

Any friendly chatter in the bullpen died as she walked through the desks to her office, closing the door behind her without a word. She was halfway to her desk when her phone rang and she cursed loudly, crossing to the desk and yanking the phone up to her ear.

“What?!”

“Well that’s not a very friendly greeting.”

Lin relaxed a bit at the sound of Kya’s voice.

“I’m sorry. What is it?”

“I know how upset you are that I’m leaving for so long-“

“I’m not upset. I want you to go.”

Lin winced. That didn’t come out the way she meant it.

 “Just let me finish Lin. Tenzin and Pema have some event tonight and they asked if I would keep an eye on the kids. And I was wondering if you would join me.”

“Kya, I”

 “This will be one of our last nights together for a while. I know it’s not ideal but I just really want to spend as much time with you as possible.”

Oh, she was good. Most people had the wrong idea of Kya. She had somehow managed to give herself the image of being some wise and innocent master healer. But Lin knew better. Kya was much more complicated than that. And she had a rap sheet that put Su’s to shame. It wasn’t anything serious, mostly protests or defacing of property but Lin would wager most people didn’t know that about the master waterbender.

“That’s a low blow, Master Kya.”

 “I know, but it’s true. And I know the kids would love to see you. Please, Lin.”

She didn’t know when she had gone so soft but before she could comprehend how it happened, she found herself agreeing to babysit Tenzin’s kids and was actively helping Kya put the four of them to bed.

Lin slipped out of Rohan and Meelo’s room as Kya quietly followed behind her, closing the door with a soft click.

“What-“

Kya silenced her by covering her mouth with a warm hand, bringing her index finger to her own mouth in a shushing motion. She walked past Lin towards the main living area, waving for her to follow. Once they were in the kitchen Kya spent just a moment listening.

“I think we’re safe.”

“What do you mean?”

“You always need to give it a few minutes of quiet before trusting the kids are actually asleep. If they hear anything that might indicate they’re missing out on something it’s all over and we’d have to start the nighttime routine all over again.”

Lin perched on the edge of one of the counters as Kya started clearing away dirty dishes. She watched as the waterbender made small movements with her hands, the water literally bending to her will as she made quick work of cleaning off the various bits of food stuck on them. Lin mused to herself that she wouldn’t mind cleaning so much if she could make the water do most of the work for her.

“I didn’t know you were so good with kids.”

Kya laughed and Lin felt her heartrate increase at how beautiful she looked when she smiled. She looked to Lin over a shoulder.

“Lin, I’m the oldest of three siblings. Spirits, I’m the oldest of all of you. Well, except Zumi. But she doesn’t count because she didn’t live in the city growing up. Listening to you all crying and whining all the time, being a full time, unpaid babysitter… best birth control there is. Well that and being a lesbian.”

A decent stack of clean dishes was piling up and Lin hopped down from the counter, grabbing a towel and getting to work drying them.

“You’re not so bad with kids yourself, you know.”

“Yes well, I practically raised Su when my mother wasn’t home. Which was pretty much all the time.”

Lin focused intently on the plate she was drying but she could feel Kya watching her. She was working on working through her childhood traumas but it was still a sore subject. And Lin really didn’t want to talk about it right now. She hoped Kya would pick up on that and steer the conversation away from Lin’s complicated upbringing. With a rare stroke of luck the phone rang, Kya flicking her hands quickly so the water returned to the sink before bolting for the phone.

“Hello. Yes, this is Kya. Right now? I’m kind of busy at the moment. Yes, I understand. No, it’s okay. Just give me a little time. Yes. Thank you.”

Kya hung up the receiver and turned slowly to Lin with a look Lin did not like at all.

“Kya…”

“Lin, I’m sorry but I have to go. One of my mother’s old students is very ill and asked for her personally. Obviously mom isn’t coming to the city right now so I’m the next best thing.”

“Kya, you can’t leave me alone with the kids.”

“They’re asleep. It’ll be fine.”

“And if they wake up?”

“Lin, I’m sorry but I have to go. If they wake up you’ll have to figure something out. Just think of what your mother used to do if you or Su got up after being put to bed.”

Lin snorted. Her and Su wouldn’t even make it to their bedroom door before Toph would bend a piece of earth in their path that would not so gently push them back towards the bed until they got the picture and accepted defeat. Once Lin had gotten a handle on earthbending it had become more of a game. For both her and Su. Trying to see who could get the closest to outsmarting their mother. The only time Lin had gotten the upper hand before the age of 12 was when Tenzin had helped her “float” above the floor with his airbending so Toph couldn’t sense her. It was one of the few times her mother had actually said she was proud of Lin, at least out loud.

Kya walked to Lin and took her hands, planting a gentle kissing on her cheek.

“I promise you’ll be fine.”

“Don’t make promises you can’t guarantee.”

Kya rolled her eyes, moving to the door to slip on her shoes. Lin helped her with her bag and crossed her arms as Kya opened the door to leave.

“I’ll be back before the sun rises.”

“Be careful.”

“Always am, chief.”

She gave her a lazy salute and Lin rolled her eyes, watching her descend the stairs. Once she was out of visual sight Lin stomped her foot to the ground and used her seismic sense to follow Kya until she was completely out of range.

Lin let out a long sigh making to close the door. She froze as bright light flashed across the sky followed a few seconds later by a low rumble off in the distance. Her mouth got dry as she closed the door with a quiet click. Of course there would be a thunderstorm while she was on Air Temple Island alone.

She felt her chest tighten and tried to control her breathing, willing her thoughts to stop spiraling. But she couldn’t stop the memories that hit her. A darkening sky. The sound of rain as it pinged against her scorched armor. A masked face. A cold thumb pressed against her forehead…

Another loud boom of thunder sounded, close enough to make the house shudder and Lin jumped, closing her eyes tight. She felt something then. Light, barely there, footsteps running down the hall towards her.

Lin wiped her eyes quickly, just in time to relax her face as Rohan came running into the room. His heartbeat was pounding and his eyes wide with fear. At least she wasn’t the only one who didn’t care for the storm.

She softened her face into a smile and walked to him, holding her arms out. He didn’t hesitate at all before running to her and she picked him up easily, his tiny legs wrapping around her waist.

“It’s all right. It’s just a storm. I’ve got you.”

He buried his face in her chest and Lin smiled. She didn’t know why she had been so worried. She could handle this.

“Let’s get you back into bed.”

“No!”

“I’ll sit with you until the storm is gone, okay?”

“Promise?”

“I promise.”

“Okay.”

Lin carried him quietly down the hall to the room he shared with Meelo.

“Now we have to be quiet so we don’t wake up your brother, okay?”

Rohan lifted his head from her chest and nodded quickly. She pushed open the door and moved to the small bed in the farthest corner of the room. She glanced over at Meelo who was completely covered by his blankets but thankfully still sleeping. Lin sat on the edge of Rohan’s bed and he jumped from her arms, immediately pulling his own blanket over his head. Just as she started to coax him into laying down lightning flashed again and Lin closed her eyes in anticipation of what was to come.

The storm must be right over them now because the next boom of thunder shook the house so badly that the windows rattled. Lin heard a shrill scream from one of the rooms down the hall and she watched as Meelo shot 4 feet into the air on a gust of wind, startling awake.

Perfect.

Lin carefully uncovered Rohan, the young airbender not waiting for an invitation before jumping back into Lin’s arms. They stood and turned to where Meelo now sat with his eyes wide and staring.

“Come on, Meelo. You can ride on my back.”

Lin suspected that Meelo wasn’t actually all that frightened of the storm but wasn’t going to waste the opportunity to take full advantage of Lin’s offer. He jumped on her back and she felt it in her knees. When did the kid get so heavy? He got into a more comfortable position and Lin lead them all into the and down the hall towards Ikki’s room.

“Ikki?”

A small head popped out from under her blankets. Lin walked to the edge of the bed and started to sit, Meelo jumping from her back and perching on the corner of his sister’s bed while Rohan curled up against her chest. The rain was coming down hard now and the thunder and lightning was going off at regular intervals.

Rohan was still holding tightly to Lin and as she looked at Ikki’s nervous face she knew there was only one thing to do.

“Ikki, move over so I can lay down next to you.”

The young girl’s face lit up in apparent surprise but she moved over without a word. Lin pried Rohan from her arms and laid him on the bed next to Ikki before shuffling herself into the position next to him.

“Can, can you be in the middle? Just so I know you’re really here.”

Lin refrained from letting out a sigh before she shifted Rohan to her other side, inching herself closer to Ikki. She immediately nestled into Lin’s side and she could feel her heartbeat slow. Meelo was already asleep sitting up against the wall and Lin was hopeful she would be able to sneak away before long.

Of course, the universe had other plans as the loudest crack of thunder yet rang out across the sky. Even Lin herself jumped at the sound and Ikki let out another shriek. Meelo seemed a bit more concerned now as he moved closer to Lin, taking up the spot between the wall and Ikki.

“Are you guys okay?”

Lin started as she looked up to see Jinora standing in the doorway. That girl really was twinkletoes the third, she hadn’t even heard her approach.

“Everything is fine. It appears not everyone is a fan of the storm.”

“Oh, okay. I’m glad everyone is okay.”

Lin raised an eyebrow as Jinora still lingered in the doorway.

“Maybe you can come join us and help me keep an eye on these three?”

The teenager’s face relaxed as she climbed up to join them, curling up at the foot of the bed with her head against Lin’s legs. There was another flash of lightning and Lin decided she had had enough. Before the thunder could disturb them she wriggled her right hand free from under Ikki and made a quick, violent movement with her hand. Thick slabs of earth shot up from the floor to the ceiling, soundproofing their little room against the raging storm outside. She had left a small opening by the doorway so she could make her escape once they were asleep again.

It didn’t take long for the four tiny heartbeats to slow to a resting pace but it was then that Lin realized she was in the unfortunate situation of not being able to move without risking waking everyone up again. She took in a deep breath and weighed her options. She could move in one quick motion and hope for the best. But she was already so tired and didn’t want to deal with any more bedtime routines. She supposed she could just close her eyes for a bit, at least until the storm had passed. She shifted slightly, getting as comfortable as she could with the gaggle of airbenders she was surrounded by. She’d just close her eyes for a few minutes…

///////////

It had taken Kya longer than she expected to return to the island, the thunderstorm making it impossible for the ferry to make the trip across the bay. She hoped Lin was doing okay, last she knew Tenzin’s kids weren’t overly fond of storms.

What Kya didn’t expect was to find Lin completely passed out in a bed with her nieces and nephews draped all over her. Rohan had his head on Lin’s chest, her arm wrapped around him protectively as an impressive drool stain spread across Lin’s shirt. Ikki and Meelo were back to back on Lin’s other side, Ikki hugging Lin’s arm close to her as she rested her head on Lin’s shoulder. Jinora was curled on her side at the foot of the bed, her head resting in between Lin’s sprawled legs.

Lin’s face was more relaxed than Kya had seen it in a long while. Even in sleep, her partner was full of tension but right now she looked peaceful. Kya smiled as she backed out of the room, avoiding the large stone slabs Lin must have used to shelter the room from the loud sounds of the storm.

The house was quiet and Kya dragged herself to Tenzin and Pema’s empty bed, determined to get a little bit of sleep before the sun began to rise. She smiled again as the image of Lin and the kids snuggled together flashed in her mind. She laid her head down, sleep overtaking her as soon as her eyes had closed.

[xo-cuteplosion-xo]

Asorted ADA x Reader | The "happy" friend

BSD misc. Reader insert

Warnings- mentions of suicidal thoughts. Mentions of Verbal and mild physical abuse.

The happy co-worker, happy friend, happy ex, happy girlfriend. No matter what you pushed it on to yourself. So many of your peers had it worse. Look at Dazai, he manages to smile and joke despite his pain. You thought you could do it too. So, that’s what you did. Since you joined the agency. You never let them see you break down. They never got to see you cry. They never got to see you under anything but happy. Even if you were annoyed, you held onto your smile. There were so many orphans among your mighty crew of detectives. The ones you were the closest to, you confirmed them to be orphans from a young age. Dazai, parentless at 14. He may have been an orphan for even longer than that. You just know he didn’t have any at 14. Then there was Atsushi, who had lived his whole childhood abused in an orphanage. Kyoka, she lost her parents to her ability. The others you were not too sure about, but the sneaking suspicion this organization was full of gifted orphans, was high.

Then there was you. A girl, no older than Dazai. Not the best looking, at least that’s what you told yourself. The others had no idea about your insecurities regarding your body. Maybe you were too tall, too short, too thin, too fat. Some days were better than others. Some days the situation flipped. There was always something you could nit-pick about yourself. Your mind wandered constantly back to the words of your parents. “Not skinny enough, too skinny. Not fit enough, but don’t be too fit. Men don’t like to be threatened.” you had parents. Maybe they weren't the best but you had parents. They were a bit abusive with words but never had they placed a finger on you. Well, there were a few times but it was normal right? For a parent to lose their cool and lash out once or twice, maybe even a handful of times over the years. They judged you for your choice of occupation and the people you hung around. They called you out on outfits and the way you acted. That’s why you were here now. Far from them, but their words still haunted you. In truth, you feared them but wanted their approval.

Today, you stood with your coworkers finishing up the latest job. You hummed in your outfit. It covered your arms, which you already bandaged but wanted to keep that a secret. The things you did to keep this false joy were extreme. The things you took in impacted your state. Listening to Atsushi, holding Kyoka when she broke down. Hell, you were even there to scold Dazai and occasionally listen to his drunk words. The tales of how much he had suffered broke you. Even Kunikida learned to confide in you. He would tell you about his stress, and the pain he felt about past mistakes that resulted in his ideals being missed or broken. There was nobody in the agency who didn’t trust you with their problems. To them, you had none. They were okay with talking to you. They felt better after talking to you. That’s how it worked.

Biting the inside of your cheek, your feet moved to Kunikida. You knew he’d want to talk about this one. He hated seeing people killed before his eyes. He’d already nearly beaten Dazai for letting the boy die. Atsushi was off in the corner, fidgeting around with the tight atmosphere. You had arrived a little too late to prevent the death of the kidnapped child. Things like this happened, mistakes were bound to happen but… they had larger effects on some than they did on others. Dazai was facing the wall, his hands in fists. His head against the wall. You could tell he was blaming himself. Atsushi just felt awkward being here. “Kunikida?” you whispered trying to keep a joyful yet soft tone to your voice. Your hand reached out to tap his shoulder only for him to slap it away with a heavy glare.

“How can you smile like that? Somebody died in front of us and all you do is smile! You're always smiling no matter what happens! Do you even understand what’s going on right now? We failed (Y/n). Do you need somebody to explain to you what you should be doing right now?” his voice kept raising pitch by pitch. It sent flashes along your eyes. The way your father's voice would start soft and gradually get louder by the second, until he slammed a fist against the wall and screamed at you. Those yells always ended in the verbal assault. The comments on your form, the comments on your social life, and the useless degrees and jobs you had.

The wince you suppressed went unnoticed. The shaking of your hands is easily hidden behind you. Hands clasped together as your eyes trailed Kunikida. His body stood towering over you. Heavily glaring as he turned away. “I just wanted to make sure you were alright.” you tilted your head to play this off with a smile.

It was no help to your situation. He pushed past you, heading for the building exit he froze in the doorway. “We have to go tell a parent we failed to save a child's life. Do you understand how hard that is for a parent? How could I be alright? How can any of us be alright?” he was one step from overfilling your glass. The cracks forming were starting to show. Your eyes unable to meet his eyes. “You can be heartless and an idiot at times. Smiling in the presence of death.” there it was, the same words you had gotten at your grandmother's funeral. You’d tried to stay strong for your mother. You only knew how to smile. You knew no other way of staying strong. Hearing it from a friend sent you into overdrive.

“Shut up.” you hissed through clenched teeth.

This time Atsushi seemed to join in. shocked by your sudden negativity. He had never seen you like this. None of them had ever seen you drop a smile. “Are you mad?” Atsushi asked before you shook it off and smiled.

“Huh? Of course not! I'm just as normal as ever! I don’t know what you mean? Did I seem mad? Sorry, guess I just let that slip. I meant to say you shouldn’t assume I'm heartless, just cause I'm still… happy! I feel the pain you guys feel over this! I just think we should move over this!” giving a closed smile, Kunikida's raised voice washed over the room again.

“Move past?! We could have saved them if we had been a bit faster in getting here! The kid wasn’t supposed to die! Stop smiling and grasp the situation! Stop being insensitive to your acting just like Dazai does sometimes!” Were you that bad? Was it really that bad to just want to stay happy? “You have everything perfect, you can’t even grasp the situation!” you couldn’t do this anymore. His words were starting to turn from accusations to frustration. He was taking his pain out on you. Instead of doing it in the kind form he normally used, he was using anger to express how hurt he was right now.

Unable to take any more of the words he spat, you dropped it all. His words were getting on the triggering side. The words he spat slowly started to inch closer and closer to your parents' words. Words that made you have to act like this. “I can’t do this anymore,” you whispered trying to keep your tears locked inside. It was useless though. The container shattered as his words brushed by your ears. Faded and fuzzy, the world drifted away. You were pulled back into the world by a brunette. His slender hands shaking your shoulders. You shoved him away glaring.

“Woah, she’s pissed,” Atsushi whispered before you shook your head looking at the ceiling, you smiled.

“No Atsushi, I'm sad, for lack of a better word. I want to walk up the stairs of a very tall building and dive into nothingness. I want to lay down with a bottle of whiskey and drink myself into sweet relief. I want to look in the mirror and like the way I look. I want to walk to my parents with the courage to tell them I'm perfect no matter what I look like. I want to tell them that what I do for a living makes me strong. I want to have the strength to shout and tell them I don't need a man to dictate my life. I want to scream at them that the only man I want is a man who isn’t afraid of a fierce, strong, and independent woman.” the words fell from your lips as your tears fell. They fell through your smile. The happy look stuck to your face.

“(y/n)...” Kunikida started before you chuckled, closing his sentence off.

“Aren't I just perfect? I hate my body, I hate my personality. I hate everything about myself. I hate my gift, nobody would like the real me. Nobody knows the real me. Hell, I don't even know the real me. I am nothing without my smile. But… it's okay as long as I can keep smiling! I can just fake it until it's real. I fooled all of you, didn’t I? I really seemed happy! Even I was starting to think I was! But then, I get home, look in the mirror, and all I can see is a useless shell.” your voice stopped before you were wrapped in bandaged arms. Those arms ran over your back to pull at your arms. Concerned hazel brushing skilled tender fingers under the cloth of your sleeves. Those fingers dancing over the white cloth. His hair falling over his now darkened eyes.

“You too…” he whispered just as you yanked away your arms and held them, still keeping a smile.

Of course, he had to lift your spirits just a bit. So, as you looked away unable to meet his gaze, he got to one knee and pulled your hand to him with a smirk. Kunikida facepalmed realizing the words the brunette would spout next. “Dazai, this was a crime scene. Are you seriously going to… I'm going to kill you!” he shouted stomping over to you two.

Dazai’s eyes met yours as he put his playful smile on. “Would you commit a double suicide with me~?” he hummed before being shoved into a wall. “Kunikidaaaaa! Why would you do something so cruel?!” he dramatically put a hand over his chest and his other hand on his forehead. Kunikida clicked his tongue, turning to you. His eyes reflected only guilt, as if your outburst had been all his fault. Even if you had been dying to talk to somebody about the crumbling emotions for months.

“I’ll think about it, Dazai-san!” you playfully responded to his request. For a moment you truly did feel a flutter of joy.

“I swear if you start doing his habits, I will add to your paperwork!” the worst kind of threat. A threat that made both you and Dazai cringe but chuckle.

“We should get going.” you hummed looking up to the ceiling again. “We do have a family to comfort.” Everybody fell serious and nodded.

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Reaction To: Finding Out Another Member Likes Their Crush

S T R A Y   K I D S  R E A C T I O N   T O : Finding out that another member also likes you, their crush. 

Genre: a lil angst + a lil fluff

A/N: If you’re interested, I’m willing to do a much fluffier part 2 to this. Just let me know~

Chan:

On one hand, Chan is a straightforward and competitive guy- he’s incredibly driven and he doesn’t like losing, especially when it comes to matters close to his heart. On the other hand, he’s also incredibly selfless. When he overheard Hyunjin talking to one of the guys about how adorable he found you, showing off a picture the two of you had taken together, Chan couldn’t help the way his heart sank. Of course he liked you, he’d liked you for a while and he thought he’d made it obvious to the other members by the way he always invited you to hang out with him (especially when he was buried in his laptop working until all hours of the night at his studio). But he wasn’t one to admit his feelings our right, so he couldn’t be mad at the younger member for catching feelings. 

Chan would ultimately be torn between being up front with you and admitting his feelings (which could ultimately hurt his friend) or staying quiet and potentially losing you. He’d become quieter and more tense when you were around, mostly because he didn’t want to step out of line and do something that could jeopardize either relationship. It’d be especially difficult for him because he also considered you to be one of his closest friends, and the fact that he couldn’t talk to you about the dilemma he was dealing with would weigh on him. It got to a point where you’d noticed his change in behavior, so you’d asked him if you could come by his studio to talk. Truthfully he’d considered telling you no, not because he didn’t want to see you but because he didn’t fully trust himself to not do something selfish. He’d never want to hurt Hyunjin but he feared his feelings for you were too strong and that, if given the opportunity, he might act on them. 

When you arrived at his studio, taking a seat beside him as he worked diligently on a few new tracks, it wasn’t hard to tell that something was off. His usual goofy and relaxed demeanor would be gone, and was replaced with a thoughtful and reserved version of the man you’d come to call your best friend.

*clearing your throat as you looked up at him intently, getting up the courage to break the ice*

“Chan, what’s going on...”

*not meeting your gaze as he continued to work on his computer, not bothering to remove an earbud as he replied*

“I’m fine Y/N I’m just busy that’s all.”

*sighing as you fiddled absentmindedly with your fingers*

“Did I do something wrong?” 

*frowning as he paused momentarily, turning towards you slightly without quiet meeting your gaze*

“Why would you ask that?”

*sighing in aggravation as you reached out and grabbed his wrist, pulling him towards you slightly and forcing him to meet your eyes*

“Because you won’t even look at me and I don’t know why! You’re acting like we’re not friends anymore or something and- and that really hurts, Chan...”

*sighing as his face softened, pulling his hand away and using it to remove an earbud so he could hear you more clearly*

“I’m not I just- I don’t know what to do. I-”

*shrugging his shoulders and forcing out a small, saddened smile*

“I don’t know. I think I have to accept that sometimes I can’t win, y’know? Sometimes the timing just isn’t right...that’s all I can say, really.”

Minho: 

He isn’t one to play games, or beat around the bush. That being said, he also isn’t one to take situations lightly especially when it comes to matters of his heart. He hadn’t confessed to you because, despite being sure of his feelings for quite some time, he was waiting to see if you liked him back. He didn’t want to risk your friendship if you didn’t feel the same way, so he’d been willing to play the long game- that is until he realized Felix also had feelings for you. He hadn’t out-rightly said that he was attracted to you, but Minho was quick to notice the younger’s adoring stare as you played games with him and a few of the other guys one evening at the dorm. In a way he understood it, you were particularly good friends with Felix and truthfully you were better friends with him thatn you were with Minho- but friendship didn’t necessarily mean that you had romantic feelings for him. 

After you’d left and Felix was alone in the living room, Minho wouldn’t hesitate to approach him about it- but not in an obvious or aggressive way. He had no intention of forcing Felix’s hand, or trying to come to an agreement on who should pursue you- Minho is all about the long game. It truthfully didn’t bother him that much to learn that Felix was interested in you, because you were free to choose whoever you liked. If you wanted to be with Felix, there was nothing Minho could do to change your mind. he’d be eerily calm about the situation, not because he didn’t want you as his, but because he’d rather play smart than hard.

*approaching the younger member who was sat comfortably on the couch, clearing his throat slightly before he spoke*

“You should tell (her/him).”

*giving the older man a confused stare as he looked up from his phone*

“What?”

*not moving from his position leaning up against the doorway*

“You should tell Y/N you like (her/him). You do, don’t you?”

*his eyes widening and his cheeks growing flushed as his embarrassment became apparent*

“Hyung I, how did you know that?”

*shrugging his shoulders slightly as he pressed his tongue to the inside of his cheek, nodding thoughtfully*

“It isn’t hard to tell...”

*frowning slightly as he thought carefully on the older member’s words*

“Do you think (she/he) likes me back?” 

“You can’t know until you ask...just be upfront.”

*in thought for a moment, scratching nervously at the back of his neck as he inhaled sharply*

“I-I don’t know, Hyung...Y/N and I are really good friends, yknow. I don’t know if I wanna mess that up.”

*his usual intimidating demeanor softening slightly as he adjusted his stance against the doorway, running his hand through his hair as he thought for a moment*

“Fine then, tell (her/him) when you’re ready. (She/He) might be gone by then, though. Are you gonna be ok with that, if she’s with someone else?”

His question was weighted, though Felix had no idea to what extent. Minho had no intention of undermining your relationship with the younger member, though he doubted he even could considering your close friendship. Moreso, he wanted to be clear with Felix of his options, without 100% admitting to his own feelings. He didn’t think it was important to be vulnerable and admit that he also had a crush on you- since it was very possible you didn’t feel the same way towards him. As long as Felix was aware that there might be others out there vying for your affection, it wasn’t relevant for him to know that his own band mate was one of those people. 

“H-hyung what are you saying?”

*shifting apprehensively as he stared at Felix with a serious expression on his face*

“I’m saying if you want a shot, take it. If you don’t...someone else will.”

Changbin:

He’d be lying if he said it didn’t hurt a bit when he’d overheard Chan inviting you to his studio to hang out with him while he worked. He knew the oldest member well enough to catch on to the fact that he probably had feelings for you- and while it wasn’t ideal, it wouldn’t discourage him. He didn’t mind a little healthy competition and, even though it sucked that it had to be between such a close friend, Changbin isn’t one to easily give up just to avoid confrontation. He didn’t have any intention of asking Chan to step down, ultimately the decision was up to you and that was fine with Changbin. Though he had been a bit more hesitant to admit his feelings before- the sudden sense that he might lose you gave him a new-found confidence that he’d be sure to show off to you. 

His strategy was to just be straightforward and honest, if you didn’t feel the same way he couldn’t help that- but he at least wanted to try. When you came over that evening to cook dinner with all the members and enjoy the evening together- he’d be sure to pull you aside, not caring who saw.

“Is everything ok, Binnie? What’d you wanna talk about?”

*nodding reassuringly, his hold on your wrist never letting go as he closed the door behind him*

“I just wanted to see you, Y/N, is that a crime?”

*laughing playfully as you shoved his shoulder lightly, rolling your eyes*

“You saw me when we were out in the kitchen, what’d we have to go into your room for?”

*giving you a confident smile as his gaze traced every inch of your face, the pad of his thumb running across your hand that he was still holding*

“It was too loud out there, here it’s just us.”

*feeling heat rise in your cheeks as you gave him a quizzical look*

“What do you wanna say that can’t be said around the other guys?”

*chuckling slightly as he took a small step closer to you, shrugging his shoulders*

“Hmm, I don’t know. Maybe I just wanted to tell you that...you look really good tonight. Every night, actually...”

*your eyes widening as you became even more flushed than before, unaware of Changbin’s finger that was placed gently on the inside of your wrist- easily feeling the way your pulse quickened at his bold words*

“I-I...what?”

*raising his eyebrow flirtatiously as he continued on with his matter-of-fact tone of voice*

“I just think you deserve to be told when you good, Y/N...I know a lot of guys would probably like to be yours, I’m sure you have options. And I don’t have any expectations from you- you don’t have to say anything. We can go back into the kitchen and pretend none of this ever happened...”

*his eyes darkening as he watched the way you trembled slightly under his gaze, entranced in his words and his gentle but firm voice*

“I just want you know that...just because I’m your friend, doesn’t mean I’m not a man. Maybe it’s time you start seeing me as one.”

Hyunjin: 

Despite his confident stage persona, at heart Hyunjin is pretty shy and reserved- especially when it comes to his emotions. He’d had a crush on you for a while, but couldn’t ever bring himself to confess his feelings for you outright. He tried to make it obvious in other ways, one of his favorite things to do would be making playlists for you. He’d put so much thought into each song, insisting that it was just good music that you should check out, but the messages in the lyrics would all be subtly laced with his feelings. Unlike his subtle methods of making his feelings known, however, Jisung was much more direct and upfront. So when Hyunjin overheard Jisung talking to you on the balcony about his feelings for you- Hyunjin’s heart would absolutely sink. Jisung was one of his closest friends, despite how different they could be at times. Hyunjin hadn’t stuck around to listen to your reply or the rest of the conversation, he couldn’t be sure of your feelings but the fact that his band mate also had feelings for you (and was certain enough to act on them) would be enough to convince him that he shouldn’t intervene. Of course he wanted to be with you, and if you did end up accepting Jisung he was pretty sure it’d crush him, but he wouldn’t be willing to jeopardize his friendship with either of you. He’d still spend time with you and force a few smiles to keep you from worrying about him, but after a long night of overthinking and beating himself up for not admitting his feelings to you sooner he’d delete the playlists he’d made for you- which was the tipping point where you realized something was wrong.

You’d approached him after a photo shoot when you’d stopped by to bring the members lunch, and it wouldn’t be hard to tell that he wasn’t his usual comfortable self around you.

*talking softly so as not to be heard by the rest of the guys*

“Hyunjinnie...is everything ok? Y-you’ve been acting different recently...”

*averting his gaze as he shook his head, forcing a small smile*

“I’m not acting differently, Y/N, I’m not sure what you mean.”

*frowning as you inched yourself closer to him, looking at him quizzically as he continued to avoid your gaze*

“Yes you have been...you won’t even look at me now and you deleted the playlists-”

“They were just playlist, Y/N.”

His interjection was harsher than you’d anticipated, and it stung as the words left his lips. He’d never intended on pushing you away, he wanted nothing more than for you to be in his life- but he couldn’t help but imagine what it would be like to watch you fall for one of his closest friends and the thought alone was too much for him. He’d rather keep you at arm’s length, not wanting to intervene or create a confrontation. 

“W-what?”

*his eyes darting around the room, focusing on anything except your face as he tried to keep his spirits up*

“They were just songs, it’s not a big deal...” 

*and then, despite every ounce of his body warning him against saying something jealous and biting, he continued*

“You have someone else who can make you playlists from now on, right?”

Jisung: 

On the outside Jisung comes across as a very bubbly, “heart-on-his-sleeve” kind of guy- but underneath that outward persona is a much softer and more sensitive side of him. He’d liked you for a while but he’d never said anything because, truthfully, he was worried about how it might damage your friendship with all the members. You were all so close and, though there were moments where he’d almost swear you seemed to like him back, he was worried that if he acted on his feelings he’d risk ruining the near perfect dynamic you all had. It wasn’t that he’d never considered it, of course his heart ached a little every time you smiled at one of the other guys or fell asleep on their shoulder- he’d tell himself if only you were his...you could fall asleep in his arms instead. But Jisung isn’t the kind of guy to rush into a relationship, especially not with someone he considers a close friend. He’d over-analyzed and been too in-his-head a thousand times, until one very late night at the studio.

He’d gone into the studio to record some vocals with Jeongin and Seungmin, finding moments of downtime in between his parts to rest and play on his phone. Seungmind had been recording for a while at this point, as as the clock struck well-past midnight Jisung could feel himself growing tired. The younger member beside him was also visibly tired, but as he leaned over towards the older member his eyes caught a glimpse Jisung’s phone- the homescreen of which was a selfie the two of you had taken together on a trip to the beach. It could’ve just been a nice photo between two friends- but of course it was much more than that to Jisung. Maybe if Jeongin had been a little more awake he would’ve picked up on the nervous glance the older member gave him as he pulled his phone away- but instead he said something that took Jisung by even more shock. 

*leaning his head on the back of the sofa behind him as he stared up at the ceiling, his voice barely above a shy whisper*

“Hyung...do you think Y/N is seeing anyone?”

*his eyes widening as he turned to face Jeongin, giving him a confused look*

“W-why do you ask?”

*his gaze suddenly shifting to face the floor as he fiddled with his fingers apprehensively*

“I just...I know we’re good friends, but that doesn’t mean (she/he) doesn’t have other friends...maybe even a boyfriend...”

*scoffing as he turned back to his phone, trying to play off the fact that for a moment he thought the youngest member had caught him*

“Yah, why do you care about that kind of thing, hmm?”

*without skipping a beat as he turned to face Jisung with a serious expression plastered across his face*

“Because...I like (her/him).”

The instant those words echoed out across the small room, Jisung’s heart would plummet. He’d liked you for so long and now one of his closest friends- someone he considered to be his brother- had just admitted he felt the same. Despite his usual forth-coming and straightforward attitude, Jisung would stay entirely silent. If Jeongin hadn’t been so sleep-deprived, it would have been easy to read the distraught and pained look on Jisung’s face as he sat frozen in his chair. He sat there in thought for a while, falling silent for so long Jeongin almost mistook him for asleep. 

“Hyung?”

*glancing over towards him without facing towards him, worried his face would give away to many of his real emotions*

“Mm?”

“Aren’t you going to say anything?”

Again, there was silence. On one hand, Jisung’s heart was unequivocally yours and it had been for quite sometime, but on the other hand he would never and could never intentionally hurt one of his members. He couldn’t muster ethusiastic or encouraging words, he could barely muster any words at all, but he managed to keep himself from saying anything that he knew deep down he could no longer admit. Jeongin had had the courage to admit his feelings, and he hadn’t. Maybe you deserved someone like Jeongin- someone who wouldn’t overthink every little move...someone willing to be bold even if it felt selfish. 

“Oh...does Y/N know?”

*shaking his head as he adjusted his position on the couch, now fully laying down as he prepared to take a nap*

“No...I don’t know if I should tell (her/him). I want to...but I don’t know, maybe that isn’t the right thing to do...what do you think, hyung?” 

Before Jisung had the chance to fall into a silent stupor of his own thoughts, he felt his phone vibrate in his hand. He glanced down, only to see your name flash across the screen. If signs from the universe existed, Jisung decided that must have been one. Without a second thought, Jisung said the words that had desperately been building at the base of his throat from the moment Jeongin admitted his feelings for you. It was selfish and Jisung knew it, but in that moment knowing that it was the wrong thing to say wasn’t enough to stop him from saying it. 

“Don’t. Don’t tell (her/him).” 

Felix: 

Unlike some of the other member’s who kept their feelings very much to themselves, Felix would be pretty obvious about his feelings towards you- and it would be especially obvious to the other members. He hadn’t confessed to you outright and in all honesty you hadn’t seemed to be picking up on his subtle flirtatious hints, but the guys were quick to spot it and teased him a bit when you weren’t around. While they often encouraged Felix to be upfront about his feelings he hadn’t built up the nerve to do so. Of course he wanted to be with you, but he didn’t want to make you uncomfortable by mistaking harmless friendship for something more. He wasn’t quite ready to put his heart on the line-- at least so he thought. 

One particular evening he’d invited you over to the dorm to cook with him, an activity the two of you often did together as a fun way to de-stress and just have a nice time. Sometimes the other guys would join you and other times it was just the two of you, but on this particular occasion it was just you and Felix-- and Changbin. 

Of course Felix never minded when the other guys hung out with the two of you, though recently they’d intentionally been giving the two of you alone time in the kitchen in hopes that Felix might confess. It seemed a little odd that Changbin had parked himself in the living room, working on his computer with his headphones in just as you and Felix entered the front door. The guys usually tried to make themselves scarce if they knew you were coming over as a subtle way of encouraging Felix to open up to you- but tonight Changbin seemed to have missed the memo. Of course the instant you saw him you’d invited him into the kitchen to cook with you and, though he seemed very reluctant, he’d begrudgingly agreed. Felix wouldn’t say anything, truthfully he always had fun with you and Binnie-- though he doubted he’d be able to open up about his true feelings with one of his closest friends around. Felix is a pretty observant person, especially when it comes to people he’s close with, and he can always tell when something’s amiss, so it didn’t take him long to notice that Changbin didn’t seem particularly interested in your late night baking. He would smile and agreeably measure out the flour like you’d asked him too, but it wasn’t hard to tell that the instant you stopped looking at him his expression would shift and the mood drained from his face. After a while in the kitchen, you excused yourself to use the restroom, and as a silence fell over the room Felix was quick to bring it up, worrying that something might be weighing on his friend’s mind. 

“Hyung, are you ok? You seem kinda out of it.” 

*shaking his head as he adjusted the baseball cap on his head, forcing a weak smile*

“Yeah, yeah I’m good...actually I should head out- I gotta go to the studio and work on some stuff but, uhh...tell Y/N bye for me, ok?”

*giving him a concerned face as he stopped the elder man, grabbing his arm lightly as he started towards the door*

“Hey, hey man I can tell something’s up, ok? For real, tell me-- you’re scaring me now, hyung. Are you in trouble or something?”

*shaking his head as he pulled his arm away from Felix’s grasp*

“I’m fine, I promise...I just shouldn’t be here right now.” 

“Wh-what, why? I thought we were having a fun time? Look if you think it’s because I was gonna talk to Y/N tonight about, y’know, how I felt or something, it’s ok! I’d rather we all have a nice time together, I can talk to (her/him) some other time.”

*inhaling sharply as he pulled off his cap to run his hands through his hair apprehensively, shaking his head as his gaze met Felix’s momentarily*

“It’s not that I just...I don’t think it’s good for me to be here, I’m just gonna head to the studio ok?”

*growing concern evident in his voice as he stopped the older man once again, worried that maybe he’d offended him or said something wrong in some way*

“Hyung seriously just tell me what’s going on?”

*snapping as he turned towards the younger member quickly, his voice sharp but still soft enough to not be heard outside the small kitchen*

“I like (her/him), ok! Is that what you wanted to hear, man? I can’t be here right now because I know how you feel about Y/N and it’s fucked up for me to even feel the way I do-- but I can’t help it and if I stay here I’m gonna do something I’ll regret, ok?!”

Felix’s face immediately fell, his eyes growing slightly wider as his once playful and teasing smile faded from his expression, leaving him looking perplexed and hurt. Changbin was one of his best friends and he’d just admitted to having feelings for you-- despite knowing that Felix had every intention of asking you to be his. He’d feel confused, hurt, and honestly a little bit betrayed-- but more than anything he’d be conflicted. 

“W-why did you tell me that, hyung...I- what am I supposed to do with that?” 

His voice was soft, barely above a whisper as Changbin stared at the floor, clearly feeling ashamed for letting his feelings slip so carelessly. 

“I shouldn’t have said anything, Lix...I’m sorry.” 

“Are you gonna love (her/him)?” The question echoed throughout the hollow room that suddenly felt ten times colder and Felix’s tone deepened as his frustrations started to slip through the cracks.

“Are you going to take responsibility for your feelings? Are you gonna show up for (her/him) no matter what-- do you really think you’re what’s best for Y/N, I mean, be honest with me!” He wasn’t yelling, his voice wasn’t carrying nearly enough impact to be heard by others outside the conversation, but he might as well have been. The bite in his tone was harsher than he’d anticipated, and by the slightly shocked look on Changbin’s face it was obvious he hadn’t expected the level of hurt Felix was clearly feeling. 

“Felix, look bro I-I wasn’t planning for this to happen, ok, I never wanted to be in this situation...”

“But we are in this situation, now, Bin...whether we like it or not.” His voice was softer now, more dejected as he stared at his closest friend, void of expression. Felix was never to fight unnecessarily, especially not with his members who he considered to be like his brothers. That being said, he had no problem being upfront about what was upsetting him if he felt it was necessary-- not holding back as he addressed the difficult situation head on. Despite his stern words, the hurt would be evident on his face as he tried to figure out what he was supposed to do in this situation-- something he never expected to be faced with. Changbin was silent for a moment, listening to the faucet turn on from the other room as the two men realized you’d be back momentarily. 

“I’m not gonna act on it...if that’s what you’re asking.” 

*quiet for a moment as he heard your footsteps echoing against the hardwood floors, turning toward his friend with a serious expression*

“Should we pretend this never happened, then? Because we can...I’m giving you a chance to take it back, and I’ll forget you ever said what you said.” 

The two paused for a moment as you rounded the corner, tapping absentmindedly on your phone without realizing the severity of the conversation happening in just the other room.

“Tell Y/N or don’t, hyung-- I can’t tell you to do...but I’m not giving up. I don’t wanna fight you for (her/him)...but I will if I have to.”

Seungmin:

There aren’t going to be a lot of words exchanged when it comes to Seungmin finding out that Minho had a crush on you. In all honesty, there weren’t a lot of words exchanged between the two of you even before Seungmin found out about Minho’s feelings-- something about you made him ridiculously shy and though he did his best to talk with you and hold conversations he always found himself blushing and stumbling over his words. Minho isn’t one to admit his feelings outright, especially not to the other guys, but Seungmin is incredibly intuitive and it didn’t take long for him to realize the older member saw you as much more than a friend. Part of it filled him with anger and frustration, but more than anyone else Seungmin would feel those things towards himself. He’d be hard on himself for not having the courage to talk to you more, watching with an ache in his chest and Minho effortlessly had conversations with you, made you laugh, and even taught you a few dance moves after practice. It was like it was effortless between the two of you, and though a part of Seungmin knew you’d have been just as friendly towards him had he extended he couldn’t work up the nerve to say something. 

It may have taken him a while to be honest with you about his feelings, but this push was exactly what he needed. He wouldn’t expect anything from you- he fully anticipated that you’d reject him, after all, he didn’t talk with you much and was more often than not caught admiring you quietly. But one late night on set for their latest photo shoot, you’d stopped by to support them and bring them food- and he’d take that moment as an opportunity to finally open up to you. He knew there was a possibility that what he was doing was really idiotic, after all, Minho might confess to you and if the two of you started dating it’d be more than a little awkward around the younger member. But even though Seungmin realized all of that, he had feelings weighing on his heart that he couldn’t keep bundled up any longer.

When you arrived at the studio where they were shooting with bags of take out from the boy’s favorite restaurant in hand, Minho was quick to help you unload everything. Seungmin watched for a moment, wondering if he’d once again lost his opportunity. But as you started walking around the set and bringing each of the member’s their food, he felt his heart skip a beat and he knew he’d have another opportunity to say something, despite the fact that his hands were shaking.

*walking up to him and smiling shyly as you handed him his take out order, looking around awkward as he appeared to have a cold expression on his face*

‘Uhm..I hope they got everything right on your order...if they didn’t you can tell me and I’ll go back and have them fix it.”

*letting a genuine smile seep through his nervous exterior as he thanked you, taking the bag from your hands*

“I-I’m sure it’s fine...thank you.”

*nodding softly as you went to walk away, feeling a lull in the conversation to be his way of asking you to leave”

Just as you took a step away from him to leave, he’d reach out and grab your wrist, his eyes just as wide as yours at his own bold action. You turned towards him, glancing between his face and his hand that was wrapped snugly around your wrist as he gently pulled you back to him.

“I-I was hoping I could say something to you, Y/N...if that’s ok.”

*giving him a slightly confused but understanding expression as you nodded*

“Uhh..sure, Seungmin...is everything ok?”

*nodding as he let go of your wrist, holding his hands close to him to hopefully hide the fact that they were still shaking slightly from the nerves*

“I...I know I don’t talk to you enough. I know you probably think I’m cold towards you, or that I don’t like you- but it isn’t true. Any of it...I-I do want to talk to you. I want to be your friend but...”

*looking away as he glanced over towards Minho on the other side of the studio and feeling his nerves spike*

“I don’t expect you to take responsibility for this, Y/N...and I don’t want to make you feel uncomfortable...but I w-want to be more than your friend.”

*taking a deep breath and running a hand through his hair apprehensively as he studied your face for any signs of emotion at all, but you still looked to be mostly in shock*

“I-I’m sorry I...I don’t want you to think you owe me anything, you really don’t. If you want to date someone else, I understand. I just wanted to tell you, if I’m quiet or act cold towards you...I hope you’ll understand why.”

Jeongin:

Jeongin is the kind of person who’s quick to show his emotions when he’s happy and sharing in other’s excitemen, but when it comes to his own hardships and sadness he quickly becomes closed off. Despite being the youngest in the group, Jeongin's mentality is oriented towards not burdening others with his problems-- and he especially doesn’t want to feel as though his members take pity on him. Maybe that’s why he’d never admitted to the others that he had a crush on you-- because a part of him could tell from the beginning that he wasn’t the only one to have those feelings. 

Though Jeongin can be playfully confrontational and doesn’t mind calling his friends out over small things, when it comes to actual conflict Jeongin is more soft-hearted and isn’t one to address things immediately. So when he noticed Seungmin’s cheeks tinge red every time you sat beside him, or every time you paid him a compliment, Jeongin wouldn’t have the nerve to bring it up right away. He knew Seungmin was equally soft-hearted and the two as a pair wouldn’t have much need for direct confrontation, but his lack of confrontation shouldn’t be mistaken for giving in-- because there’s no way in hell Jeongin would give up on you just because his friend liked you too.

When he’d invited you over to the JYP office where he was working on some lyrics late in the evening, his intentions had been completely harmless. The two of you often worked together on things like that, he’d tease you by saying that you were his good luck charm but you had no idea how true that really was. He always wrote more freely and from the heart when you were around, something about your presence always seemed to coax out the romantic side of him-- which proved very beneficial when it came to writing love songs. 

*checking your phone as Jeongin worked silently beside you, finding a peaceful quietude between the two of you until you came across a text message that made you laugh*

“Oh my god, Innie look what Seungmin just sent me-”

*holding the phone up for Jeongin to see, his face morphing into a tense frown as he looked over at your phone and the funny video that was playing*

“Y/N I’m busy...just send things like that to me and I’ll watch them later, ok?” 

*frowning slightly as you nodded, apologizing for interrupting his work flow*

“...only send them if they’re actually funny though.” 

He knew he he shouldn’t have muttered the last part under his breath, you wer close enough to hear him and when he glanced over at your confused expression he knew he was on the verge of saying something he might regret. 

“What do you mean? You didn’t think it was funny?” You laughed softly as you pulled the video clip back up, giggling as you rewatched it. 

“I dunno, I thought it was funny...Seungminnie always sends the funniest things.”

Maybe he would’ve let it slide if you hadn’t said that, if you hadn’t giggled the way you did, if you hadn’t called Seungmin by his pet name-- but you had. He could feel tension boiling in the pit of his stomach, a mix of jealousy and angst at the fact that he couldn’t admit on the spot that your giggle made his heart skip a beat. 

“Well if you think he’s that funny maybe you should help him write lyrics late at night instead...”

“Jeongin what does that have to do with-”

“Forget it...forget I said anything...” He interjected, fully aware of how disjointed his logic had become as he tried to maintain the frustration building in the pit of his stomach. You slid your chair slightly closer to him, your expression softening as you realized something was bothering him beyond the silly video. 

*pulling on his sleeve gently and looking at him with worried eyes*

“Innie...what’s going on?”

*inhaling sharply at your sudden touch, continuing to stare at his screen for fear of crumbling completely if he were to meet your gaze and muttering quietly under his breath, unsure of whether you could hear him or not*

“Sometimes I wonder what it’d be like if you were just mine, y’know...”

[gohyuck]

this is the teaser for part 2 of greaser jeno. read part 1 here 

warnings for the teaser: smoking, mentions of crimes, he blows smoke into the reader’s face because that was ‘sexy’ in the 1950s, talks about putting his cigarette out on the reader’s skin, they fuck in front of a mirror in the scene after this one <3

note: ‘L&M’ is a cigarette brand, when it talks about Jeno’s L&M it’s talking about his cigarette he’s currently smoking

teaser word count: 2.6k

estimated word count for part 2: 10-12k

estimated release date for part 2: january 5th

once again, read part 1 here!

“So you just… stole your neighbor’s cat?” You raise an eyebrow, keeping eye contact as best you can while taking a bite out of the slightly stale granola bar in your hand. Even with crumbs at the corner of your mouth, your impressed expression shines through. 

“The fuckface was beatin’ the poor thing,” Jeno shrugs, though you think you see a hint of a smile. “What else was I gonna do? Leave her there? Anyways, she was an aged thing. Ol’ girl died a couple years later, but they were some good years. Wrench was well loved.”

“You named your cat Wrench?!” The exclamation is more excited than you mean for it to be. Jeno really does smile this time, finally taking a bite out of his own granola-bar-dinner before nodding. He reaches a hand up to run it through his hair, and you can’t help but let your gaze linger on his razor sharp jawline, or the beautiful slope of his nose. By the time he looks back at you, you’ve turned your head away. 

“What about you?” He eventually asks, and you’re relieved at the fact that he’s even trying to maintain the conversation. Jeno’s always seemed untouchable, so his softer, maybe even kinder side is more than a little new to you. You feel like you’ve dug deep, and whether it’s on purpose or by accident, you’ve found something. 

He’s looking intently at you. You haven’t answered yet. 

“What about me?” 

“Any pets? Cats, dogs, fish… humans.” He smirks slightly, and you’re struck by the change in the Jeno who’d driven you here to the Jeno in front of you. Brooding versus almost… bright. Maybe even brash, it seems. The famed Jeno Lee with his Chuck Taylors and pocket knife. You wonder if he’s even still dwelling on the circumstances that have led the two of you to this moment. Sharing granola bars on the living room floor of the cabin had allowed it to slip from your own mind at first. 

You still haven’t answered, looking like you’re mulling his question over. It feels like you’ve waited just a little too long to answer, somehow. Jeno’s smile slips a little, gaze darts over to the nearest window for a second. His left hand taps out a rhythmic beat on his left thigh, and you remember that he’s got every right to be nervous.

“Well, I -” You start, only to be immediately interrupted. 

“Do you mind if I - oh, shit, sorry,” Jeno starts off strong, falling into a murmur quickly once he realizes that he’s cut you off. You give him what you hope is an encouraging smile - a signal to go on - and he returns an almost imperceptible nod. “Do you mind if I smoke while we talk? I don’t know if -”

“I don’t.” You cut him off, though by the way he looks at you right after, he’s grateful for you doing so. He nods, casting his eyes away from yours, busying himself with pulling out his cigarettes - L&M, judging by the packaging - and lighter. When had he finished his granola bar? You hadn’t noticed, but the wrapped is empty, crumpled at his feet. 

“We used to have a dog,” You start, thinking back to when you’d been young, barely in middle school. “Kevin. Big golden retriever, loved chicken and chasing bigger dogs during walks. He died a couple years ago, but I really do miss him constantly.”

“He sounds like he was wonderful,” Jeno mumbles, unlit L&M between his slightly pursed lips. You watch a little too intently as he flicks his lighter open, allows the flames to dance against the end of his cigarette. He puts the lighter away once he’s done, shoving it far into his front pocket. You suppose he doesn’t mind the heat against his skin. Jeno inhales roughly, and when he pulls the cigarette from his mouth to exhale smoke by positioning it in between his index and middle fingers, you finally notice how much he’s shaking. You don’t comment on it. He continues. “I have to ask, though… Kevin?” 

“Kevin,” You nod sagely, looking back up at his face even though your eyes seem to want to stay trained on the cigarette. “Johnny named him, I was a little too young to do it. As for human ‘pets’... Lucas, was one. Yangyang too. I had a brief thing for Jungwoo, too, but we ended up being far too... similar on some things it seemed necessary for us to be polar opposites on.” 

Neither you nor Jungwoo had wanted to take charge in bed, but Jeno doesn’t need to know that. Judging from the small eyebrow raise he affords you, though, he already has an idea. He says nothing, as if he’s waiting for you to go on, but you don’t really have much else to tell him. You don’t even know how much he wants to know. 

“You?” You settle for asking, though you don’t quite know why. Jeno’s sexual history had been practically broadcasted at school - you don’t look like that without repercussions. You know more about him than you need to, but maybe not as much as you want to. 

“Everyone knows who I’ve fucked.” Jeno chuckles, taking another drag from his cigarette. You lick your lips unconsciously when your gaze falls to his lips as he blows smoke out, away from you. It seems like the cigarette is making him less nervous, less shaky. Less tuned in to the fact that he’s currently on the run. “Yangyang, too. Lacey, Adrija, Katie, Yeonjun, Evan, Riley, Emma, Jess. That’s the list, I think. I wouldn’t call them pets - well, not all of them, at least - but… yeah. That’s the list.” 

“Yangyang, Lacey…” You mull them over out loud, going silent as you process the list. “Emma.. J- wait, Jess?”

Jeno winces. Takes another drag. Nods. 

“When did you - Jess, like, Jess and Johnny, Jess?” You sputter out the words, eyes widening slightly. Jeno lets out a sigh, breathes in and out again, and, finally, nods once more. From the way he’s acting, you don’t even have to ask about the timeline of him and Jess. 

Jess, who’s like an older sister to you, cheating on Johnny, your big brother - your big brother who’s a criminal, apparently - with Jeno, who Johnny’s framing for robbery and maybe a dozen other things right now. It’s like a poorly written Shakespearean comedy.

Maybe it’s a tragedy. You don’t know yet. 

“She loves him very much, she- she truly does. I’ve never seen Jess so damn happy with anyone before, and we’ve been friends since we were in diapers ‘n all that. I swear.” Jeno puts his hand out for a second as if he’s trying to prove something, but he draws back when he finds that there’s nothing to prove. You furrow your brow and squint at him, scrutinizing him for a moment, before sighing and turning away. 

“Finding out that my brother’s being cheated on by the only girlfriend of his I’ve ever liked is probably the least insane thing that’s happened to me today,” You ultimately say, and you swear you hear Jeno let out a soft exhale of relief at this. Even if you aren’t his ideal company, you’re company nonetheless. “I’ll live with it.”

He can’t say anything else to this, so he nods, looking a little more peaked than he had before. You suppose his inadvertent confession of what him and Jess have been up to bothers him more than he’s letting on. It bothers you more than it lets you on. 

It really is the least of your worries, though. You can’t help but analyze everything inside your mind: is Jeno telling the truth? Although you don’t know each other too well, you’re inclined to believe him. What will you do if he’s lied about everything and you really have essentially been kidnapped? No, that seems unlikely. On top of that, if Jeno’s truthful - and he seems to be - then Johnny’s far worse that you’d thought. Sure, you have your issues with your brother, but he’s still your brother. The idea that he’s so terrible is horrifying to you. You share a house with that man. 

If he’s capable of robbing the diner you work - worked? - at, putting Jaemin in the hospital, and framing in Jeno, all within a night, what else is he capable of? Has he always been like this? You’d always thought the Doyoung and Taeyong mess he’d gotten himself into years back had been what had changed him for the worse. What if your perceptions are incorrect? What if he’s always been terrible? What if… What if he’d framed those two boys back then? What if they were innocent?

Johnny wouldn’t do that, right? 

Right?

As you mull everything you’ve ever known over in your mind, only just beginning to process the situation you’re in, the conversation dies out, put out like a cigarette. Neither of you had bothered to close the curtains on any of the windows, so moonlight streams in, darkening shadows and shedding light on the two of you. It traces around his exposed biceps, his proud chin, the veins underneath his skin. Jeno always looks just a little out of this realm, but the silvery light against his skin paired with the smoke that’s curling in the air beside him both serve to make him seem even more untouchable. The Jeno you’ve always seen, but never touched. 

It’s only when he drops what’s left of the cigarette to the ground and lifts his leg up to crush the butt under the heel of his boot that you realize you haven’t been staring into space, but rather at Jeno’s L&M. If he’s noticed, he says nothing, only pulling his lighter and the packet out to light up yet another cigarette. The fact that he doesn’t ask this time is not ignored by you. 

Once he’s done lighting it and has taken a good drag from it, Jeno finally puts his lighter away again and looks up at you. His smile this time is apologetic, but you aren’t sure why. 

“You’ve been lookin’ at it all night,” He says, voice softer than you could’ve imagined coming from him. He gestures lightly with the cigarette before putting it back against his - admittedly plush looking - lips. “Wanna try?”

“I…” You blink a couple times, not sure why you’re so blindsided by the question. Maybe it’s the drop in his voice, the raspiness that comes with his lowered volume. Jeno’s one of the more respectful men - then boys - from your high school, but he still lives up to the reputation he’s got. A guy like Jeno Lee doesn’t ask you to try a cigarette with him for no reason. 

To be fair, who else is he gonna ask right now?

When you don’t answer outright, Jeno smiles slightly. He isn’t shaking anymore, you notice, but you think you might be. Funny how the night changes. The man in front of you takes another drag, leans in ever-so-slightly, and blows his smoke gently towards you. It’s practiced, precise: he doesn’t go directly for your nose, or your mouth. The smoke and the air tickle the side of your face, and the sensation almost makes you forget how close Jeno suddenly is to you. 

He knows he has the upper hand, likely because he’s just created said upper hand. You can’t say you don’t like it. You don’t lean away.

“Classy, Jeno Lee,” You muster up the ability to speak. His lips are still by your cheek. His breath is warm against your skin, but it doesn’t disgust you in the way you feel like it should. “You could be going to prison soon and you’re still trying to get your dick wet.”

It’s a harsh thing to say, but you know that you could say anything in the moment and he wouldn’t take it to heart. The push and pull you’ve been wanting since high school is there. Jeno leans back, takes another drag and blows up rather than at you again, seemingly marvelling at the way the tendrils of smoke dance and then disappear, dispersing around the two of you. The newfound tension should feel sudden, but you think that it might’ve been coming since he’d discovered you in the Bel Air’s backseat. 

Now that you’ve hidden him away at the cabin, anything could happen. Tomorrow, Jeno could drop you off at some gas station or bus stop and drive away forever, running away from a past that is chasing him at double the speed. Tomorrow, you could turn him in for the car theft. You’re sure that’s what he’s thinking, anyways. Jeno shifts so his empty hand is in front of him, so he can put his weight on it to get right back up close and personal to you. 

“I always did like when you wore these skirts to school,” He ignores your statement entirely, dark eyes flitting down to your bare legs. “Never said anything ‘bout it because I’m nothin’ if not respectful. That, and your brother would’ve killed me if I’d tried to get at you.”

“My brother’s not around right now.” You say, and the lilt of your voice makes it seem like you’re posing a challenge. Maybe you are. To be entirely fair, you aren’t thinking too straight, but you blame that on the fact that you’re aiding and abetting a fugitive who happens to, at least at the moment, seem almost like sex on legs. Jeno’d looked so scared and afraid earlier at the gas station. When had that changed? 

The Jeno across from you is cocksure, hands steady even when they hadn’t been minutes ago. Perhaps the gravity of his situation has finally hit. He’s either not thinking at all, or he’s thinking the clearest he has all night. 

“No,” Jeno agrees, finally, finally placing a hand on your bare thigh, right above your knee and right at where your skirt has ridden up. “No, he isn’t. It’s just us tonight, princess, isn’t it?” 

“You’ve done a whole 360,” You respond, not shying away from his touch. His hand is so warm against your skin. You want Jeno to engulf you. “Why’s that?” 

“Could be going to prison soon,” He shrugs, and his eyes darken with something unreadable. Something almost… sad. Jeno ignores himself, explaining further, voice teasing. “Might as well get my dick wet.”

It hits you then, his real reasoning. Before thinking, you place your hand on top of his, gentle, as kind as you can muster. 

“You want to use me to forget?” You ask, your touch imploring that his eyes seek yours out. They do, and when you look into them, you know that you’re right. He’s left his entire life behind because of your brother. Of course he needs some use from you. Jeno stares at you staring at him for one, two beats before looking away. He doesn’t respond, but you don’t need him to. 

“How do you feel about me putting my cigarette out on you? Ash against your pretty skin?” He asks, voice sultry but guarded. You wonder if this is how he seduced everyone on his list. You only have tonight. Neither of you know what tomorrow could bring. You move your hand off of his, only to slowly pull your skirt higher along your thigh. Jeno’s eyes follow the new path of exposed skin, hungry for something you could never comprehend.

“Pick anywhere,” Your words are barely above a whisper now. “After all, you’re in charge.”

let me know if you want to be added to the taglist!

[sad-sweet-cowboah]

And I’ll Succumb To You

Summary: As an Omega, society sees you as either low on the totem pole or a breeding factory. You however have the job as a bounty hunter, and your eyes are set on a large prize.

Warnings: SMUT, rough sex, cursing, abo dynamics.

Author’s Note: Okay I never thought I’d be into this kink but here I am. First attempt. This one is LOOOONG (13 pages/6,643 words!)

The clinking of glasses accompanied with murmurs buzzed about within the Valentine saloon. The walls were dimly lit with hues of red and gold. The acrid smell of cigarette smoke hung heavy in the air, accompanied by the haze that seemed to hang permanently in the atmosphere.

You leaned heavily against the solid bar, tipping a glass of whiskey to your lips. The liquid slid into your mouth and down your throat, the burning sensation left behind a welcoming tingle. Setting the shot glass back upon the slightly sticky surface, your gaze scanned the other inebriated patrons.

Merry laughter and wayward mannerisms tainted this place; drunken degenerates often flocking to this spot after a day of working in the stockyards. Wasn’t your ideal place to stay, but it provided some easy entertainment between the bar fights and drunken flirtatious antics between harlots.

The doors opened with a slam, dragging your attention toward them. The scent hit you first before you saw them: Alphas. A small group of bounty hunters stormed in, their boots muddy from the street outside. They looked rather agitated, perhaps a failed attempt of catching an outlaw drove them here to placate themselves.

It were as if the atmosphere had changed. Valentine was a town full of Betas; Alphas never really bothering to stay much longer than a night here. The evening women would take any chance to be claimed by one, even though a Beta was not what they were after. You watched as one of the bar maids sauntered up to their table, a cheeky smile painted her crimson lips and her voice held an alluring tone as she asked what they needed, leaning over to expose her cleavage. Unphased by her flirting and still disgruntled, they ordered their drinks, turning their attention towards themselves once again.

The bar maid seemed taken aback by their lack of reaction, quickly turning on her heel to hide her damaged pride. You merely rolled your eyes and turned to face forward. Sure, Alphas could have a Beta if they chose. However, you knew they sought out Omegas.

One of which you were.

Your parents were Betas, subjected to a normal lifestyle of mediocracy and normal careers. Betas held the majority of society, and they were the lucky ones. You’d been made with the act pure lovemaking, absent of the forces of nature itself demanding to be driven by carnal urges. Your parents knew, as both of their families were mixed with Beta and Omega. They knew what their children could become.

You were the unlucky draw, having unwillingly presented as Omega at the proper age. Your siblings were Betas, carrying on with their livelihoods while you suffered each month through an unbearable heat. Your mind would cloud, devoid of all thought while your body was degrading itself into pure desire for an Alpha’s rut. Soaked with sweat and riddled with slick, the heat would last for days when it felt like months.

It wasn’t until you were assigned a caretaker did things ease for you. Whisked away to a safe space, you were taught to pleasure yourself to relieve your otherwise overwhelming desires. The intense, throbbing heat had been reduced to a dull ache afterwards, although you could never completely satisfy yourself.

The cruel life of an Omega as once described by your mother. After downing another drink, you’d slammed the glass down with unnecessary force. You often felt resentment toward your parents for even bringing you to life. You ran away years ago, absolutely tired of being carted away each month to be confined and subjected to your own bodily torture. You instead sought out alternative methods after hearing of other Omegas speak about it in hushed tones behind a hotel one night. A concoction of specially brewed rare plants that only few people sell, and fewer people know how to make. It seemed more like a pipe dream, until you saw the effects of it firsthand. Lilith’s Blessing.

It was quite an expensive remedy, and rightly so. Something of which that could change a God-willed act of nature itself would be steep in price. Finding sellers were tricky, them often passing clues for Omegas to decipher. It was such a complex underground operation that made moonshine businesses appear like child’s play.

You had to save up a few months for your first dose. It was only a hundred dollars back then, and a hundred more than you could afford. Working your way around however did the trick, and when the time of month when your expected heat was to arrive, it never came. For the first time in a long time, you rode through that week with bliss and no fear. And you had to find a way to obtain them on a monthly basis.

With your quick reflexes and learned skill of tracking and hunting, you became a bounty hunter.

Bounty hunting was often seen as an Alpha’s position, given how dangerous and rigorous it could be. While an occasional Beta would assume the role as well, it was unheard of for an Omega to do so. This advantage however made it the perfect job; the target would not expect one like you to capture them.

It’s been a few years since you’ve harnessed and perfected your technique. Despite your hatred for your heat, you would utilize it for your own advantage. The closer you were, the stronger your scent would become. Most outlaws and criminals were Alphas, and you would leave your scent in a nearby area to lure them in. Usually an article of clothing such as a chemise or a shawl, you would capture them as they were too busy investigating said object. Despite a few minor injuries along the way, it made for a decent living, as well as providing you with your drug of choice for relief.

The group’s whispers over beer further caught your attention. The frustration in their voices began to ebb away as the alcohol drags its slow grip on their consciousness. From the sound of it, they were already planning their next hit.

“Ain’t had a good streak in months,” one said. “Get nothin’ but the petty criminals.”

“We could try one of them big boys. Maybe the O’Driscolls?” Another suggested.

“Colm’s slipperier than an eel in an oil slick,” A third grumbled.

“What about Dutch’s Boys? Heard someone saw Morgan recently.”

The names all rung familiar with you. As a bounty hunter yourself, you’ve both seen and heard about them a numerous amount of times. Both gangs were a force to be reckoned with; their numbers too sizable for a lone wolf such as yourself. The rewards over their heads ran into the thousands. While the money was tempting, you would be a fool to go after either of them.

“Yeah, heard he’s been runnin’ ‘round West Elizabeth lately, alone,”

“Alone, eh? Looks like we got ourselves a score,”

You knew of course who they were talking about. Arthur Morgan; a substantial member of Dutch’s Boys and one of the most notorious outlaws of your time. You’ve heard his name a few times, and seen his face plastered on wanted posters in different states. From the way multiple people, lawmen and bounty hunters alike, tried to go after him, he and his gang seemed an expert at evading capture.

If he however was alone, perhaps it would be an opportunity for you. Arthur alone was still worth much more than you’d ever made collectively, and you would be set for a while.

Were you a fool for even thinking of such a thing? Yes, although you thought back to what one of them said: nothing but petty criminals. Easier to capture, but paid less. You didn’t want to bounty hunt for the rest of your life, and the high reward offered was becoming more tempting by the minute.

And so you decided to go after Arthur, and you had to do it soon. While these fools drowned their sorrows in alcohol, you hopped off your chair and headed out of the saloon.

---

You left that night, spurring your horse to gallop on across the darkened terrain while you formulated a plan. It only took a few hours to cross state lines. You made a small camp to rest in a thicket, awakening when the sun’s rays kissed your face. As you packed up camp, a familiar tightening below your navel made its presence. Your heat would be coming soon, and you’d planned accordingly. You had a bottle of Lilith’s Blessing tucked away in your satchel, though you hoped finding Arthur wouldn’t take much too longer. Your window of opportunity to lure him in was small. You’d be too useless in your heat, and taking the tonic would staunch your scent entirely.

You rode toward Strawberry, reaching the little town by high noon. It was bustling with travelers and locals alike. The mixture of scents filled your nose as you strolled past some Alphas, whose heads turned to you in curiosity. You kept your eyes forward, knowing you were becoming more inviting as time slowly moved on. You made a note to not stay around for much longer than you had to, in case anyone got any ideas.

You hitched your horse in front of the hotel, staring up at the building with interest. You always did like Strawberry; a small town nestled in the mountains that always seemed like something out of a story book. Perhaps that was an exaggeration, however it held a certain charm that Valentine lacked.

You spent the next few hours speaking to townsfolk, keeping your questions and conversations casual. There wasn’t much information to go around, except that some people spotted Arthur here a day ago before he started heading North toward Big Valley, a prime location for hunting game.

You stayed for a little while longer to gather some needed supplies. It was late afternoon by the time you’d left, trotting towards the thick forest and leaving the town behind. The scenery around was absolutely beautiful, and you could get lost in the splendor of these woods if it weren’t for the predators that roamed through the thicket, both human and animal alike.

The sun sank steadily lower in the sky the closer you got to Big Valley, and you took a deep breath. A melody of different aromas hit your nose, and you opened your mouth to further distinguish them. Through the pines and vegetation, you could detect one: Alpha. It was faint, but there nonetheless. Your eyes fell to the ground, noting a few tracks of hoofprints. Most remained on the path, until you found one set leading into the woods. They couldn’t have been more than a half a day old. You turned to follow, keeping your senses on the trail.

You kept on it, noting the tracks gradually became fresher the farther you went. You’d eventually come across a little clearing, the Alpha scent heavy but stale enough to not be overwhelming. Judging by the indents in the underbrush and the blackened spot that indicated a fire, he camped here at some point. He probably packed up and left just a few hours ago. You were getting closer, and a smile tugged on your lips, practically feeling the money in your hands.

You eventually reached the forest line that broke away to the large meadow that stretched for miles before giving way to the mountains. A breeze carried through, the crisp arctic air from Ambarino breezing through your hair. It also carried something else: the coppery scent of blood. Animal blood. It mixed with the Alpha musk, which was now very fresh. He had to be close by.

Rather than following the tracks further into the field, you rode along the outskirts of the forest. You kept a wary eye out, pacing your horse at a steady gallop. However with the ever darkening sky, it was starting to become harder to see. You would have to find a spot soon.

After a few minutes of looking, you finally settled for a spot. At the base of one of the mountains, one way blocked by the rock faces too steep to climb. He would only have three directions to go. You dismounted and quickly peeled off your clothes, until you were in nothing but your chemise. It was off you within seconds, the fabric warm and slightly dampened from your center. The pressure deep in your belly was growing.

You placed it behind a bush, and brushed against some nearby boulders for additional scenting. You were even quicker to redress, knowing it was only a matter of time before he caught wind of you. Another breeze danced through the trees, blowing out towards the field. Not much longer now.

You hurried back over to your horse, until you felt your foot get stuck. You lost your balance and flailed, desperately attempting to keep yourself upright. You hit the forest floor, your breath coming out in a harsh whoosh. Sharp pain radiated along your stomach and ribs.

“Fuck,” You grunted, yanking your foot free from its prison before standing back up, brushing the debris from your clothes. You were glad no one was around to witness that. Being more careful now, you grabbed your weapons and lasso and shooed your horse away. You hunched over as a shudder rippled up your spine, running swiftly away to a spot of thicker brush. With the twilight darkness and the leaves encompassing you, it should be a perfect hiding spot lest he decided to come this way.

With the wind steadily blowing, you waited, ears pricked and eyes open. The sounds of nature surrounded you, animals of the night slowly making their appearances for food. Nothing seemed out of the ordinary, yet.

The wind quieted down after a few minutes, the cool air at a standstill around you. Despite the forest being alive with every animal, you felt as if you were being watched. Another shudder passed through you, trying to shake off the feeling. No one was watching you, you scolded yourself.

Another few minutes passed by when the sound of thundering hooves caught your attention. You were too far to see who it was, however the air alerted you of the all too familiar scent. A wide grin crossed your face. He fell for the bait.

A swell of heat rolled over your belly, a slowly growing wave of intensity. You bit down on your lip hard. Your body was willingly responding to the Alpha scent. You grasped for your satchel and dug around for the familiar tonic.

Only…

Oh no.

You dug around desperately, trying to clutch on something that seemed to no longer be there. The little glass bottle was not amongst the other items buried into your satchel. Your heart began to hammer, shoving things out of the way, hoping it was in a corner.

No such luck.

It was then you realized where and when exactly it fell, and heading back for it would lead you right into your own trap, to him.

Another swell of heat crashed through your system, even stronger now. Your pants felt damp from your growing slick. There was no way you’d be able to catch him in this state. You’d have to run and pray that he didn’t catch up.

In the distance, you heard his grunts. Leaves stirring and twigs snapping underneath footsteps. You focused on listening, trying hard to ignore what was forming deep in your core. The pressure was only steadily increasing, calling for a release. You hated having to abandon this opportunity, the money was just too good. But you could not risk this, not for anything. You turned around and began to move through the brush as quietly as you could.

A deep growl rolled through the woods behind you, surrounding you and gripping you. Your body responded faster than your mind did, bringing a fresh wave of slick that nearly soaked your pants. A whine built in your throat that you were quick to staunch. You continued to move forward despite the heavy drag of your muscles wanting to root you in your place.

He was getting closer. The echoes of the vegetation bending and breaking in his path only grew louder. You hurried your pace, hoping that you weren’t too loud to exactly pinpoint your location. The pressure inside you only ballooned, crawling into your mind and raking through your consciousness. You fought it with determination, your horse was visible through the trees. If you could only make it…

His voice, rough and powerful, ripped across the landscape, tearing through your very soul. Your clouded mind forced your body to a halt, pinning your limbs as if they were tied down by chains. You staunched another growing yowl as you forced yourself back up, though your efforts were becoming weaker by the second. Your dry mouth formed to whistle for your horse, only to fail, your breath grating against your throat. You were so, so close…

 “There you are,”

Fear washed over you like a tidal wave. The Alpha musk surrounded you like a fog, and your body willingly responded, a small whine releasing from your throat. You wanted to run more, or to try and fight. You were however no match against in Alpha while you were in heat, and this was your first time being in the presence of one in the midst of it.

He was right behind you, and you refused to turn to face him. Your slick had thoroughly drenched your pants and your core pulsed with need.

“What’s an Omega doin’ out here, all alone?” he asked. His voice called to you, your mind roiling with a myriad of emotions.

“N-none of your business,” you hissed out, fighting to keep your voice even.

“Nah, ‘spose it ain’t,” he rumbled, stepping closer to you. You kept absolutely still, every nerve sparking with electricity. You watched as he came into your field of view. “Unless you’re up to somethin’.”

You kept your eyes away from his, but his frame took up the rest of your vision. He was tall and broad. His scent filled your nostrils and gripped your mind. You noticed something in his hand; a light piece of fabric which was your chemise.

You didn’t answer him, forcing yourself to turn your head away.

“Seems awful improper for a lady to run ‘round without this on,” he continued, coming even closer to you. “Then I found this.”

The glint of glass caught your eye, and you glanced to see it was your tonic. Your eyes widened, reaching out automatically to swipe it. He held his arm up out of your reach, and you got a good look of his face for the first time.

Arthur Morgan. Those wanted posters hadn’t done him justice. He was easily one of the most handsome men you’ve ever come across.

“Ah ah,” he said as if scolding a child. “Lilith’s Blessing. Don’t see that too often.”

“It’s mine!” you hissed, jumping up to try and grab it from his hand. Your fingers had brushed against the bare skin of his forearm for the briefest of a second, but it was enough to send electricity through your entire being, gathering deep within your center.

Arthur too seemed to be affected by your short contact. His bright eyes flashed and his throat rumbled with a growl. A growl that nearly brought you to your knees. It was becoming even harder to not succumb to your heat, the pulsation radiating below was nearly unbearable.

“P-please…” you whined, wincing at your own words. You hated to sound this desperate.

He hummed in response, the beast reflecting dangerously in his eyes. “You ain’t out here by coincidence, are ya?” he continued, stepping to just inches from you. Despite your heat wanting you to touch, you forced yourself to back up, only for your body to hit a tree. “Tell me, I’ll give ya this back.”

“I-I told you, it’s none of your b-business,” you said, unable to keep yourself from trembling.

Arthur stared at you for a long moment. “You’re a terrible liar,” he murmured, leaning forward to place his arm against the tree, trapping you one way. “I’ve heard about ya, the Omega bounty hunter. Shoulda known when I scented ya so far from any civilization.”

Your eyes widened. How in the world would he have figured that out so quickly? With his body so close and his musk wrapping around you like silk, your fear was quickly dissolving into a carnal desire.

“Were you plannin’ on capturin’ me?” he continued, his stare hot. “Turnin’ me in to the Pinkertons?”

Your only answer was to elicit a high pitched whine. His entire body stiffened and he ducked his head for a split second. He drew in a heavy breath, no doubt swimming in your thick scent. You heard him utter a dark swear underneath his breath.

“The more you stay silent, the less likely you’ll get away,” He growled.

Another wave of slick was brought upon you, ignited by his voice. You shut your eyes and shook your head, swallowing a gulp of air to keep yourself sane. It was a mistake, bringing a fresh wave of his aroma through your senses. It was becoming impossible to resist. You released another whine, your hips slightly bucking toward him.

Arthur growled again, so deep and animalistic that you felt it rumble through yourself. You could hear his fingers scratching against the bark of the tree. He too was losing composure. You opened your eyes to see his free hand twitch toward you, brushing against your thigh before yanking it back, placing it on the other side of you. Even through the fabric of your clothes, it was enough. You were losing all of your prior thoughts, succumbing quickly to your heat.

“Answer me, damnit!” he roared, leaning in closer to you. His breath ghosted across your face and his broad chest brushed against yours, and it were as if a switch had been flipped.

Your legs opened automatically, exposing even more of your aroma to him. The desire was too strong, too intense. You wanted him, needed him. He immediately found your waist, gripping you hard as he pressed himself against you. The hard line beneath his jeans were welcoming, and you ground against him without thought. He hissed into your ear, the sinful expletive curling around you like a snake.

“Woman…you’re testin’ me,”

Your mind could not formulate an answer, your mouth only giving out a soft, desperate moan while your hips pushed into him. He growled deeply, a notion that his own tether has slipped. His hands yanked at your pants, pulling them down to expose your hot skin to the cool air. Rough fingers explored your folds briefly, sliding along the copious amount of slick residing between your legs.

“Shit…” he muttered, his touch leaving you to quickly remove his gun belt and unbutton his pants. Even in the dim light, you could see how thick he was. The head of his cock moved between your folds, drawing a shudder from you as you whined for him. He found your entrance with ease, bucking himself in to the hilt with a deep groan.

Like a lock and key, it was a perfect fit. The pleasure that encompassed you was like no other. Your legs wrapped around him immediately. He thrusted hard and fast, gripping your legs tightly for added leverage. You moaned loudly, your hands grasping at his neck while he used your body to his liking.

“God damn,” he grunted, pounding into you hard. “You feel amazin’…”

You could only moan again in response, the pleasure overtaking every aspect of your mind. His broad frame bent over you, growling into your ear. A shudder passed through your system.

“Fuuuuuuccccck,” you whined, dragging the swear out that kept in tune with your ecstasy. “I need more!”

Arthur groaned at your words, shoving himself harder within you. His grip tightened to the point where you’d have bruises. His ragged breath hot against the crook of your neck, lips latching on and sucking forcefully. The pleasure was nearly dizzying, filling every corner of your mind. This is what you needed all along, and you had missed out on it. You felt whole.

He continued to utter curses against your skin, voice rough and gravelly. You weren’t sure if he was angry or just deeply rooted within his own ecstasy, or both. Your peak was quick on the rise, a climb too fast and forceful for you to fully comprehend. Your limbs clung to him tightly while it came crashing over you with such intensity that you cried out into the air. Your body shuddered while he fucked the rest of your orgasm out.

His strong arms peeled you off him just as the last waves of your climax had dissipated through your body. You were hovering for a second, only to be turned around so quickly you hadn’t fully realized it. You were facing the tree now, and your body naturally arched for him as he slid himself back in, the knot of his dick slightly bigger than before. With no time to recover, he slammed into you, fucking you with abandon while his hands tore off your top in one smooth motion. You were completely exposed now.

Your moans and whines were carnal, animalistic, pure instinct of nature itself taking the both of you over. His own growls reminded you of a wolf, and it sent a powerful shiver down your spine. He raked his nails down your back, the sweet sting heightening your pleasure fivefold. You were sooner on your second rise than you’d expected, only unleashing a high cry as it exploded from your core, more intense than your first.

His mouth was on your neck, his hot tongue licking at your skin. In your post orgasm bliss you’d nearly missed it until you felt his teeth graze over your flesh. You flinched away, a bubble of coherent thought breaking through the haze. “D-don’t mark me!” you pleaded. “Please!”

His mouth left your skin instantly, which you felt surprised that he listened. He instead wrapped his arms around you, his touch roving up the front of your torso and to your breasts. Your sensitive nipples hardened eagerly between his calloused fingertips.

“You feel so nice, girl,” he hissed, gripping your breasts hard in his palms. “Fuck, I’m close.”

Upon hearing these words, you wanted nothing more in life than to have his seed within you. You pushed your hips back, ass flush against his hips. He ripped out a deep snarl, yanking his hands away from your breasts to once again take place on your hips. His thrusts were even stronger now, the sound of skin slapping skin for every creature within a mile to hear.

You begged him for his release, your own voice sounding foreign to your ears to even such a thing. Finally, he pressed himself deeply within you and stilled. He released a loud groan as he emptied himself into you. His knot swelled immediately after, locking the two of you into place.

The melody of your voices had died with the movement, degrading to short breaths. His touch left your now bruised skin, and his body leaning back sent a jolt of sharp pain at your joined skin. You yelped out loud while your tired legs trembled beneath you.

He stopped shifting immediately, his hands returning to your waist. “Here,” he grunted. “Easy, now.”

His touch was surprisingly gentle as he helped you stand straight. You silently let him guide you, taking care to match his steps to prevent any unnecessary pain. You moved together, walking backwards until he rested against a boulder, easily pulling you into his lap as you slid down to the soft forest floor below. Once you’d been seated comfortably, he removed his hands and leaned back against the rock.

“We’re gonna be stuck like this for a while.” He quietly rumbled.

You knew that, even if it were your first time, you knew the knot would remain for a little while. The last of your high had faded away now, along with the longing need to mate. Now you were total strangers again.

You hadn’t answered him, stewing in your own personal thoughts, memories, and your own self-pity. You mentally cursed your own body for presenting Omega, your parents for even creating you, the world for allowing the existence of this society. Your one mistake led you to this moment. A bounty hunter and her prey, sitting naked on his lap in the middle of the woods. It seemed surreal at this point, that just moments ago this infamous outlaw just fucked you. Fucked you in your most vulnerable state that you’d tried so hard to avoid.

You closed your eyes, feeling tears well behind your lids. You pursed your lips and swallowed hard, forcing them back. The last thing you wanted to do was appear even weaker in front of him. You released a shuddering breath, louder than you intended.

“You alright?”

His voice was soft in such contrast how dominant he sounded earlier.

You bit your lip, unwilling to answer him. However, there was no telling how long you two would be stuck together like this. Speaking to one another could have been avoided until his knot returned to normal and the two of you could go your separate ways.

But Arthur was attempting to make conversation. For what reason?

You ignored him, still remaining silent and hoping he’d stop.

“Hey, I’m askin’ ya somethin’,” He reminded you. “Ain’t hard to answer.”

He was persistent. Of course, you’d gathered that from before, demanding answers despite your hesitation to speak the truth. Would he still try to force the answer out of you now, after everything? If you tried to pursue him again, he’d find out anyway.

Yet he’d probably not fall for the same trap twice.

“I was trying to hunt you,” you finally spoke.

“Huh?”

“When you asked what I was doing out here earlier. There’s your answer: I was trying to hunt you down and turn you in,” you reiterated.

His response was immediate. “’Course you were, you made it damn obvious.”

You turned-or tried to turn- to scowl at him. “Then why did you try to force me to answer?”

He met your gaze evenly, no trace of anger on his face. “Tried to make it an even trade. An answer for your tonic,” he explained.

“If you’d given it back in the first place, we wouldn’t be like this,” you grumbled, automatically shifting a little and whined from the pain that followed after.

His hands found your waist again, a steady but gentle grip to keep you from moving. Though he gave a small grunt, it was his turn to fall silent. You knew he knew you were right, and he was probably beating himself up over it.

“With my rut… Couldn’t resist…” He murmured, so quiet that you had to strain to hear him.

Hell, neither could you.

You also knew that despite all higher and more intelligent thought, nature would have even the strongest of beings to fall to their simple, God-intended ways. In reality, neither of you were at fault. A cruel twist of fate it seemed to bring you and him together on this night.

You remembered how he heeded your plea to not bite you. A bite in which would leave a mark for mating, to bound you to him for life. Horror stories of Omegas unwillingly bound to Alphas whispered in the late hours in saloons and alleyways used to frighten you when you were younger. He struck you as someone who would force a poor Omega to be bound to him. “You didn’t mark me,” you stated. “Why?”

“I ain’t about that. Forcin’ to be mated is disgustin’,” he answered. “Weren’t gonna do it anyway. If I wanted a mate, I’d rather have an Omega who was willin’.”

His answer shocked you to silence once again.

“That surprise ya?”

“O-of course!” you spluttered. “You’re a dangerous man, a killer!”

“I ain’t a good man, I know. But I have morals. No one would wanna be with me anyway.” He spoke calmly, yet you detected a hint of emotion in his voice. Sadness? He gave a soft sigh, his breath just barely tickling your naked skin. “I’m sorry…”

He apologized. Your heart unnecessarily skipped a beat. Even with the current circumstances, this man continued to surprise you. Beforehand, you’d only known him as an infamous criminal who robbed and murdered for years. His wanted poster had been forever burned in your mind.

Yet he was human. Human just like you. Someone with thoughts and feelings. You couldn’t justify his actions, but you had to admit after tonight, your opinion on him would soften just a smidge. Your actions had brought him to this point.

“I’m sorry too,” You murmured to him. “I… I went after you because your bounty would be enough to secure me a decent living, at least for a while.” You inwardly braced yourself, expecting for him to react negatively.

Instead, you felt his body rumble underneath you with a small chuckle. “Ain’t nothin’ to be sorry for. I know it ain’t easy bein’ an Omega in this world.”

“It’s awful,” you huffed. “Reason I started bounty hunting is so I can afford Lilith’s Blessing. I can’t stand my heats, couldn’t stand being carted away like some crazed fool every month to keep myself safe from any eager Alphas-” you stopped yourself, realizing too late that you’d spilled a little too much to him.

He hummed in response. His torso shifted as he sat up closer to you, though still keeping space between you two. The heat radiating from his body was welcoming as the cool air began to nip at your exposed skin. His scent wafted around you, though not nearly as potent as before. It was…comforting.

“What’s your name?” he suddenly asked. It wasn’t a demand, but a simple question. His voice was soft and kind.

And in some way, you were completely at ease with answering.

When you whispered your name to him, he took a deep breath. “I’ve heard about ya on more than one occasion. You’ve made quite a name for yourself. Guess I shoulda known you’d come after me eventually, or at least someone else from my gang.”

“Wasn’t planning to,” you sighed. “Have to be a fool for just me to go up against your whole gang. Hell, it was even foolish of me to even try to go for you alone. ”

“A fool’s right. Gotta admit, it’s a pretty good trap. Ya might’ve even caught me if it worked in your favor.”

The praise caught you off guard, and your cheeks flushed with a rush of heat. Your lips twitched with a small smile, though you hid it. You had to wonder how things would be different had they gone accordingly. Arthur was large and strong compared to how small you were. He could outmuscle you, but that didn’t mean you couldn’t take him down one way or another. Perhaps you could be riding back to Strawberry with his unconscious body draped over the back of your horse.

That possibility seems like eons ago now.

You sighed heavily. What option was there now? The deed was done, and you could go and never have to speak to one another again after tonight. A rational and reasonable decision that another part of your mind seemed to be arguing with. Was it the last dregs of your heat influencing you?

After a few minutes of unspoken silence, the soft sounds of nature surrounding you, Arthur had shifted. You’d flinched in expectance of pain, yet found none. His knot had shrunken, which allowed him to slide out of you with ease.

You were to yourself again, and it felt…strange.

He helped you to your feet, a daunting task as your entire body weighed with fatigue. He stepped away, and you shivered involuntarily. Without his warmth, the cold hit you like a train.

He seemed to notice as he grabbed your clothes off the ground, handing them back to you. Taking them gratefully, you quickly got redressed, though the damp fabric of your pants did not help matters. He himself was still fully dressed, though he tucked himself back into his jeans and replaced his gun belt. Once you were completely dressed, the two of you stood just a few feet from one another.

He spoke first. “What will ya do now?” he asked.

You weren’t sure. You knew life wouldn’t return to normal now after this. “Can’t really say.” You answered lowly.

Arthur stared at you, his lip twitching as if in thought. A long moment passed when he said. “Come with me.”

You blinked, staring right back at him. “Excuse me?”

“Come with me, Y/N,” he repeated, stepping closer to you. “To my gang.”

Were you hearing him right? “Now why would I join a gang of outlaws when I hunt them for a living?”

“But that’s just it, you won’t ever have to do that again. Not unless ya want to. Life in our gang is different. We help people too, we ain’t just murderers and thieves.”

You didn’t answer, a small frown on your face as you began to consider his words. As difficult as it was to believe, Arthur had been pretty open and truthful with you thus far.

“I know it don’t sound like your kinda life, but you wouldn’t be alone. We can all protect you-”

“A bunch of Alphas, protecting me, during my heat?” you interjected.

“We ain’t all Alphas,” he assured. “Betas n’ Omegas too. We always make a plan for an Omega’s heat.”

“It ain’t being carted off, is it?” you asked warily.

“’Course not. Sometimes they get that tonic, other times they…relieve themselves,” he gave a small, awkward shrug.

“And me?”

“…Whatever you think is best for ya,” He muttered, though tucking his head down and rubbing the back of his neck. “Ain’t gonna judge what ya pick.”

The more he spoke, the more the offer seemed tempting. You were still apprehensive, but you had to admit sometimes that being with people was better than being alone, especially if it meant being around those who understood your heat and dealt with it in creative matters.

It was a huge decision, but one that wouldn’t sound difficult to make. You technically didn’t have a home; you would move to different hotels and saloons while you searched bounties. Hell if anything, you slept more out in the woods than in a building since leaving your parents. Homesickness wouldn’t be a factor.

“I ain’t forcin’ ya, Y/N. Thought I’d jus’ offer n’ give ya a better life. Least I can do after…all this.” He uttered, opening his arms slightly as if to gesture to you and him.

God, why did he have to be so soft?

“Fine,” you said with a huge exhale of breath. “You’ve convinced me.”

He lifted his head up to meet your gaze. Even in the darkness, you could see a genuine smile cross his face.

Soon you found yourself on the back of his horse, your arms wrapped tightly around his torso while galloping through Big Valley. Your own horse was following close behind, but the fatigue hit you harder than expected. Arthur’s large frame felt warm and relaxing to your cold and tired muscles. The unknown was ahead and you were about to tackle it head-on.

For the first time in years, you were truly content.

[twoidiotwriters1]

Déjà Vu (Or are we losing our minds?) XII -Modern!Shirbert

A/N: I wrote 14 parts of this thing just to write the one AU! that I wanted to make and it didn’t even take the whole chapter why do I hate myself so much -Danny

Words: 1,660

Series’ Masterlist

Previous Chapter // Next Chapter

Chapter Twelve: I think we've met (But I can't be sure)

Asleep or awake    

I dream of you all the same.

Anne was determined to have a good time, and considering it was a day before Christmas Eve, it wasn't that hard to act excited and giddy.

Diana met her at the bar around 2 pm, neither of them were heavy drinkers, so they would be in for the afternoon of their lives.

"Okay!" Anne tapped the table excitedly. "I saw that insta story you posted yesterday. Rant to me, Diana..."

_____________________

Gilbert roughly closed his laptop and pushed it aside.

Nothing. Roy had no 'Anne' added to his contacts on any social media, no pictures with her either.

Maybe he was going crazy.

Okay, maybe loneliness was perhaps not the best companion, and with the planning for the Orchard's anniversary, it was easy to let stress take over, but at this point, Anne was so real to him he could almost remember her voice, the way her hand felt on his...

Fuck, he really was losing his mind.

Deciding to take a break from life in general, Gilbert laid back on the couch and turned on the tv, he found a shitty horror movie and approved of it almost instantly, nothing like a predictable plot to distract you from the slow decay of your mental health.

_____________________

"...And that's that," Diana retrieved her phone from Anne's hands. "You're with me?"

"Yes! Oh my god," Anne shook her head. "I usually don't speak ill about other girls, but if this asshole tries to get the credit of one of your songs again, I'll have to commit murder."

Diana laughed, she looked down at her phone and scrolled through the posts of her feed. Suddenly she came across a new one and let out a short exclamation.

"Look, Anne!" She showed her the picture. "The Orchard's having a party right after the Holidays!"

"Isn't that place like a family restaurant?"

"Yeah, but it's their anniversary, look," She pushed the phone towards her. "We should go."

"Why? Ruby's the one obsessed with a waiter..."

"Yeah, but we had fun last time we were there," Diana grinned.

Anne tilted her head, trying to remember.

"Well, the first half of the night was fun, yeah..."

"Oh, the second half was even better, and your amnesia's proof of it," Her friend laughed.

"Whatever," Anne snorted.

Diana grabbed her phone once more and quickly accessed the Orchard's profile.

"Honestly, it looks like it's going to be fun, and it's around the same time we have to go back anyway, so maybe the party could lift our spirits? Aww, look! A picture of the owners..."

She gasped so loudly Anne almost jumped out of her chair.

"What? What is it?"

"No way!" Diana smiled. "I can't believe he owns that place!"

"What are you talking about?"

"An old classmate," The girl explained brightly. "You didn't get to meet him because he moved out after his mom died, but he was a nice kid, everyone in our class liked him... I always wondered what had happened to him..."

"He owns the restaurant?" Anne raised a brow. "Nice, is he cute? Maybe if you date him we could get free meals..."

Diana laughed. "He wasn't really my type, but I wouldn't mind it if he asked me out anyway... look..."

The redhead looked down at the picture and something in her chest tightened with weird excitement. She knew that face.

"Di," She said quietly. "What did you say his name was?"

"I didn't tell you," She sipped a bit of her drink before replying. "Gilbert Blythe."

"Funny," Anne frowned. "Are you sure I've never met him?"

Diana snorted. "Well, shouldn't you know that better than me?"

"I feel like I've seen him around..."

"Maybe you saw him the night we went to his diner? He works there, after all..."

"Right," She said without much conviction. "Maybe..."

"Oh, how festive!" Diana nudged her arm, successfully distracting her. "A day before Christmas eve and this place decided it's a great idea to show Zombieland on every tv..."

Anne snorted.

"Nothing says 'Happy Christmas' better than mutilated corpses, Diana."

***

"Text me when you get home!"

"I will..."

"And think about the party, I believe we could have a great time, I bet they would all love to see Gilbert again..."

Anne smiled at her comment, she didn't know this Gilbert guy but Diana seemed to have a soft spot for him, even if she hadn't seen him since she was twelve years old. Maybe he'd be a kindred spirit of sorts.

"I'll think about it. See you!"

_____________________

Gilbert walked out of the building with nothing but a backpack and a rusty hammer. This wasn't the ideal weapon to defend yourself from zombies, but it was all he could find. He could look for better armament later, right now he had to find a safe place where to sleep.

His steps, though muffled by the dust, were pretty much the only sound he could notice, which was a good sign, but also, a bit unnerving.  His shirt was sticking to his lower back thanks to the sweat, he couldn't remember the last time he'd showered, hell, he couldn't remember the last time he'd eaten...

Ahead of him, there was a sleeping dog, in his hungry state he considered killing the poor animal and eat him whole, but he thought it to be too desperate, even for someone in his position.

However, Gilbert quickly regretted his decision the second after he'd taken it. At the sound of his footsteps, the dog woke up — or well, more like simply stood up, judging by the state of his bloodshot eyes the man doubted that animal was even capable of sleeping.

The creature growled and his back arched menacingly, Gilbert stumbled back with his grip on the hammer painfully tight. The dog pounced without warning, and he fell on the concrete.

He saw him hovering above his body for a second and the next he was batted out of sight. Blood drops fell across his face and he gawked at the sensation, the woman in front of him lowered the bat and he looked up. He knew who she was even before he'd seen the red flashes around her soft features.

_____________________

Anne's eyes widened as she recognized the man at her feet.

"Gilbert Blythe."

He stared at her in shock, Anne offered her hand and he took it without hesitation, she pulled him upwards and examined his face.

"Gilbert," She repeated. "Why?"

She knew the question made no sense, but it was the only thing she could think of. Why was he here?

"Anne," He breathed, a hand reached out to hold her face and she didn't stop him. "Are you real?"

That question didn't make sense either, but neither did the whole scenario. Where the hell was she and why had she just killed a dog?

Oh god, she'd killed a dog.

Her head turned back to the animal's corpse, and to her horror, although battered and with a twisted neck, the creature was still very much alive and it was crawling towards them, its fangs at full display.

Gilbert looked down as well and his expression darkened.

"You should close your eyes."

Anne obeyed without a second thought. She heard the abrupt sound of bones cracking, and the dog's feral growls until the street was silent again. When she opened her eyes Gilbert was holding a hammer covered in blood, and the dog's face had been left unrecognizable.

_____________________

They stared at each other without knowing what to do, Gilbert looked down at his bloody hands and grimaced.

"Please, don't think I'm some kind of crazy psycho..."

"I was the first to break that dog's neck," She stated. "Why would I think that?"

He laughed shortly. "...You're Anne, aren't you?"

"Yes," She admitted. "With an E. You're Gilbert?"

The man nodded.

"Why is this happening?" He asked. "Why am I dreaming about you?"

"Wasn't this my dream?"  She laughed nervously. "This is so weird, you're acting like a real person."

"I am a real person!" He exclaimed.

"Yeah, but I meant like, you're acting as if you were the real Gilbert," Anne chuckled. "Man, I have such a wild imagination..."

"Anne, this is real," He insisted. "Well, not this zombie stuff, but this... whatever this is. Every night I fall asleep and I dream about you. I thought this was all my problem but if you're aware of it as well..."

"What if this is your head messing with you?" Anne offered. "What if you're dreaming that I'm also having these weird dreams and it's all you? Because maybe I think I'm real, but perhaps that's what you want to hear so you're just making me say things—"

"You overthink a lot, don't you?" He grumbled.

"I'm just saying!" She exclaimed, lightly hitting his head with the bat. "You've said that before... I... I just can't remember when..."

Gilbert tilted his head deep in thought. "You've done that before too... although it wasn't a bat the first time..."

"What was it?"

His jaw clenched, Anne could practically see the gears in his brain working at full speed.

"I got it!" Gilbert said abruptly, eyebrows raising in realization. "It was a—"

_____________________

"...slate."

The young man groaned, lazily stretching over the couch and running a hand over his face to wake up fully.

"What... the fuck..." He mumbled hoarsely, "was that?"

_____________________

Anne bolted upright on her bed, the whole room was still dark and there was a light, cold breeze seeping through her window. She remembered every bit of her dream, and her eyes moved as if reading invisible calculations floating around her.

"It can't be," She whispered, one hand anxiously looking for her phone. "He can't... it was just a dream..."

When she finally found the device her fingers acted on their own, Anne found the diner's page and clicked on the owners' picture, staring at the youngest of the two men.

"Gilbert Blythe," She frowned. "Do I know you?"

Taglist.

@ninizkd @http-itsrebecca @fuckthisshitimoutyall @just-here-to-escape-from-reality @little-boats-on-a-lake @i-am-scared-and-useless-bisexual @skarlygonzalez​

[theawkwardterrier]

Fateful Friends

The surprise part 2 of my Steggy Secret Santa gift for the very cool @sagesiren​/@theeleganteuropeanwoman - a Peggy POV modern AU avec Bucky and Angie because they wouldn’t allow me to fit them in last time. A somewhat belated Chanukah gift for you - or I guess a very early one for next year?

Summary: An afternoon of helping out Angie leads Peggy to a chance encounter. 

Read on AO3

“Carter,” Angie says, tapping a finger against her wrist even though she isn’t wearing a watch. “I love you, and it’s because I love you that I don’t mind telling you that you’re a big liar. You promised 11:30.”

Peggy sighs but saves the document she had been working on. Angie is right. Peggy had said they would leave at 11:30 and it’s already 12:15.

“We can stop at the bakery on the way,” Peggy offers, swiveling her chair around to reach for her purse and coat. “My treat to make up for delaying us.”

“Perfect,” Angie says brightly. She’s a bit flushed: she had refused to remove her parka since she got here nearly an hour ago as a pointed reminder that Peggy had promised only five more minutes, though she had unzipped it after about a quarter of an hour, and she’s also wearing a beret she keeps adjusting even as she insists that it makes her outfit. Still, she hops to her feet readily, hooking her arm with Peggy’s. “And this won’t be a drag, I swear. Just a girl’s day out, the two of us on the town, cleaning out my dead grandmom’s place.” She considers as they stop in the doorway to let Peggy flip off her office lights. “Okay, maybe we’d better get extra of the lemon pound cake to keep things fun.”

Peggy sighs. “Lead the way.”

There had been a bit of extortion involved in the whole business. Six months ago, Peggy had agreed to allow Angie to start setting her up. But after multiple mediocre dates (and one which ended in a well-deserved black eye for the man in question) she had begged off and refused to be convinced otherwise, even when Angie complained that this would ruin her credibility as a romance columnist and swore over and over that she had actually found the absolute perfect guy this time, the one Peggy would truly regret not meeting.

It isn’t that Peggy doesn’t want a relationship. She isn’t being too picky, and she hasn’t decided that her career should be her focus just now. But planning, the precise thing which has served her well her entire life in so many areas, seems to have failed her now. Online dating, singles mixers, allowing herself to be set up by friends, all the tried and tested strategies - nothing has led her to anyone she would even consider as a lifetime companion, and just this once, she has decided that she will leave things up to chance.

Standing firm on the dating question, however, apparently meant that Peggy was required to join Angie whenever requested and to do whatever favors she required in exchange for reneging on their original agreement.

In the end, though, spending a Saturday with her best friend is always enjoyable, even if they’re sorting the belongings of a recently deceased ninety-eight year old woman who Angie refers to as “the old bat.” They try to one up each other for the oddest item found in their cleaning, and eat their way through altogether too many pastries. As they trade off picking playlists, Angie even provokes Peggy’s competitive spirit enough that they both end up showing off their dance moves.

After eight hours of work, Angie decides that they have done enough for one day, even though they’re nowhere close to finished.

“Sixty years of crap isn’t going to shift itself in one try,” she shrugs cheerfully, searching within one of the scattered “keep” boxes for her other glove. “And I was forced to do all this out of oldest granddaughter sexism. I’ll come back next week and make my cousins help.”

Peggy laughs, retrieving the missing glove from beneath the once-fancy living room settee. The two of them gather the rest of their belongings, making certain the lights are turned out before they weave around the boxes to get to the front door.

On the threshold, Angie digs for the keys to lock up the brownstone, a beautiful Brooklyn property which her family couldn’t have bought with the help of a fairy godmother if they had wanted to try today. Peggy breathes in the sharp cold of the night air, turns to comment on it to her friend, then spins immediately back around as a snowball whizzes past her ear and explodes on the façade of the house just beside her.

A man’s voice from somewhere out on the darkened street shouts, “Bucky, what the—” Cutting himself off before actually verbalizing whatever curse he clearly wants to, the man changes tone, calling, “Peppermint hot chocolate for anyone who hits Bucky in the next five minutes.”

In the next second, the street comes so alive with childish chatter that Peggy can’t believe she didn’t notice the apparent army of little ones nearby. Over their whoops and cries, another man yells, “Not my fault that your shot went out of bounds. I just ducked - self preservation instincts, Rogers, if you’ve ever heard of them.”

Squinting into the dim streetlight, Peggy pinpoints where the second man’s voice is coming from, just as the thickly swaddled shape of him is tackled by several smaller forms and pelted with snow from all sides. Another shadow breaks away from the place on the street where last night’s half foot of snow has turned into haphazard forts on either side of a snowy battlefield, jogging toward where Peggy and Angie still stand on the steps.

“I’m sorry about the snowball attack there,” he apologizes as soon as he’s close enough. “We don’t usually drag strangers into our fights, or at least not before we’ve learned their names.”

Peggy hasn't been in a snowball fight since she was twelve - well, fourteen, if she’s being honest - declaring war on her brother Michael back at their house in Hampstead when they were both home from school for the term holiday. Perhaps she's been a bit infected by the lively afternoon or the stress of the past several weeks is finally catching up to her, but she finds herself turning and saying to a man she has never before met, "My name is Peggy Carter, and I'd be delighted to be recruited if there's room for one more, considering that hostilities have already been accidentally declared."

Apparently he didn’t expect a response like this, a strange woman deciding to take a chance. His eyes widen, but only for a moment before he says, "Well, sure, there's plenty of snow."

Glancing back at Angie, Peggy tells her, "There's no need to wait for me while I indulge myself in a bit of winter warfare, of course. Go off home and put your feet up."

But Angie instead looks delighted in a way that's almost outsized for her best friend taking her recommendation to relax a bit. "Oh, I'd never miss this," she says. "I'll just watch our things and spectate from over here." And she unhooks Peggy's purse from her shoulder and shoos her off toward the battlefield.

"Steve," the man says as they set off up the street together. "I'm Steve. Steve Rogers. By the way."

"Lovely to meet you," she says politely.

She isn't particularly prepared for this sort of activity - her boots are fairly practical for walking from apartment to subway stop to office though clearly are not meant to do much heavier lifting - but she ventures that it can be forgiven considering how spur of the moment the entire thing has been. However, Steve is not, Peggy notices, exactly dressed for the weather either. It’s a bit too cold for a waist length peacoat, thin gloves, and a loosely hanging scarf, and he seems to have half soaked through everything. When they pass under a streetlight, she looks up toward him and observes that his cheeks are flushed red, though it actually suits him quite well, making the blue of his eyes shine.

"Were you pulled into this under similar circumstances?" she asks.

He laughs a little shyly. "No, Bucky—My friend, Bucky - you'll meet him in a minute—Anyway, his mother invited a bunch of their family over for the afternoon, and between all the cousins there are a dozen kids running around these days. We just volunteered to keep them occupied."

She wants to ask exactly where he fits into the structure of his friend’s family, but they are nearing the place where the children are still shouting and pelting Steve's friend.

"I've brought someone else to even out the teams," Steve calls, and the kids leave off, coming to surround the newcomer instead.

After introductions have been made - Steve's friend Bucky gives Peggy a look which is strangely appraising but completely without objectification - Peggy is informed of the rules (no faces, no sand or rocks mixed with your projectiles, ten seconds of reprieve after you've ducked behind the walls of your team's fort) and assigned a team (Steve's, which sends a thrill running through her which she doesn't care to examine, settling for a decisive head nod and a small smile in his direction).

She had forgotten, in the years since she had last participated in a snowball fight, exactly how exhilarating it could be. Her careful plans for methodical stockpiling and adherence to ideal technique are soon thrown out the window in her haste to simply get the next missile prepared and launched at the opposition. As she and a small girl named Iris fling nearly loose snow at the other side of the street, she finds herself laughing more freely than she has in ages. At one point, she and Steve end up huddled against the wall of the fort next to each other.

"Your hands must be freezing," he comments, and when she looks down in surprise at her red fingers, she realizes that he is right. He strips off his sodden gloves and wraps his hands around hers, trying to press some heat back into them. It’s futile, considering that his hands, while larger, aren’t any warmer, but she doesn’t stop him. When he tries to pass his gloves over to her, however, she declines with a smile.

"Oh, I could never allow anything to interfere with my process."

"Right." He unwraps his scarf instead, offering it to her. "Maybe this way at least some of you will be warm, and you won’t lose your edge either."

She won't swear that it's feeling the wool still toasty from his neck which allows her to jump back into the fray with renewed vigor, but she certainly wouldn't swear otherwise.

Her watch and phone are buried within her coat, but it cannot be much later when the door to what Peggy guesses is Bucky's mother's house opens and a group of people starts to stream out, each member gravitating over to collect particular children. Peggy stands at the sidelines as Steve and Bucky are kissed on the cheeks and thanked for their babysitting efforts. Angie ambles over just as the last of the kids, little Iris, is taken off with a wave of her cheerfully red mitten.

“Enjoy yourself, English?” she calls, grinning as she picks her way down the sidewalk around the disarranged clumps of snow. “Haven’t seen you have this much fun in ages, although it’s also reminding me why I’m never playing laser tag with you again.”

“My skill doesn’t only apply to snow. I’m a bit of a laser markswoman,” Peggy tells Steve who has returned to her side, apparently having finished being showered with familial affection by Bucky’s relatives.

“Laser sharpshooter,” Angie corrects. “Laser sniper. Laser no-holds-barred, take-no-prisoners—”

“Angie?”

Bucky has joined them, looking at Angie with surprise which turns quickly into a smile and a hug.

“Bucky Barnes!” Angie says after they’ve broken away. She’s still framing him with a hand on each arm but she lets go to give him a friendly whack on the shoulder. “I should have known there couldn’t be that many Buckys in Brooklyn.” Stepping back so she can face Steve and Peggy fully, she says, “Bucky and I are...I mean, Bucky’s mom and my mom are...Well, we’re...We must be—” She glances up, clearly trying to mentally map out a family tree.

“We’re cousins, somehow,” Bucky fills in smoothly. “Just like me and half the neighborhood.”

It occurs to Peggy that the situation might be awkward - they had just seen a number of Bucky’s relations leaving a gathering to which Angie clearly hasn’t been invited - but Bucky says, without apparent unease, “I guess you’re in the area to clean out your grandma’s place?” and then adds as an afterthought, “God rest her.”

Angie rolls her eyes, though not, Peggy suspects, at Bucky’s insincere tone. “My mother kept making noises that Jersey was too far to come for just the day and couldn’t I just take care of it, so I finally gave in.” She loops her arm through Peggy’s. “Carter here has been the perfect assistant - without her, I’d have either tried to keep everything or just backed the garbage truck up to the front door and set up a funnel.”

“You’d never - you might miss out on some heirloom to hold over everyone’s heads,” Peggy says with an affectionate elbow to Angie’s side. “And I certainly had my fill of fun sorting through objects from decades gone by, along with that snowball battling which capped things off perfectly. But I think it might be time that I started making my way home.” She truly has had a wonderful afternoon, the sort which will live fondly in her memory (including the feeling of Steve’s hands wrapped with such gentle and precise strength around hers), but the idea of a steaming bath and freshly laundered pajamas sounds absolutely heavenly at the moment.

“Oh,” Steve says softly. He extends a hand. “Well, it was nice to—”

“No,” says Bucky, shaking his head, and “No!” Angie adds with hasty vehemence.

“I’m sorry?” Peggy angles herself to try to see Angie’s face, but it’s Bucky who answers.

“You’re soaking wet, and I’m guessing that you don’t live on the next block. My mother would kill me if she found out I didn’t at least give you something dry to get home in.”

“It’s a lovely offer—” Peggy starts to demur, although she is now noticing that she’s quite chilly and it is going to be a bit of a slog home. Before she can get any farther, however, the door to Bucky’s family home opens up and a woman stands silhouetted in the spilling light.

“James Buchanan Barnes, I hope that you weren’t thinking of leaving these two young ladies out here in the cold without inviting them in to warm up.” She walks carefully down the steps, arms crossed over her chest, but she throws them open as she spots who is standing there. “Angie Martinelli, is that you? Wonderful to see you, sweetheart, come here!”

Angie releases Peggy to submit to a hug and a rapid-fire back and forth of greeting. Peggy suspects that their chances of making a smooth escape have just decreased rather dramatically.

“I’ve known Mrs. Barnes all my life,” Steve says quietly from over Peggy’s shoulder. “She’s never going to let you get away with leaving before you at least have on dry socks. And anyway, I promised hot chocolate to whoever managed to hit Bucky, and I definitely saw you paste him at least once.”

She smiles despite herself. “I believe it was peppermint hot chocolate which was promised.”

He laughs as their eyes meet, though his flick downward just after, a new flush filtering through his cheeks that she suspects has nothing to do with the cold.

“And who do we have here?” Mrs. Barnes asks, clearly finished cooing over Angie.

Peggy turns, smile still on her face. “Lovely to meet you, Mrs. Barnes. I’m Peggy Carter.”

“Get out of here while you can,” Bucky whispers fifteen minutes later, and Angie nods, telling Peggy, “If I ever need you to take a bullet for me, I expect you to remember this moment.”

“Why on earth would we be standing beside each other with bullets flying?” Peggy asks, eyebrow gracefully arched.

Before either of the others can reply, however, Steve takes Peggy’s hand from behind and tugs her away, whispering, “They’re not wrong,” as Mrs. Barnes returns with arms stacked with twenty-year-old photo albums.

“I promised Peggy something hot to drink,” he tells Mrs. Barnes more loudly. She waves them off, probably half from good hostess instincts and half eagerness to force the remaining two into a walk down memory lane.

It doesn’t escape Peggy’s notice that Steve doesn’t relinquish her hand until they’re safely in the kitchen, although it’s quite apparent where it is. She can’t say that she minds, however. With neither of them wet and frozen any longer, it’s much easier to appreciate the gentle solidity of his fingers, the press of their palms against each other.

Too soon for her to have cataloged the sensation entirely, Steve lets her go and starts moving around to the pantry and cupboards. Peggy stands watching him, curling her toes against the floor in the borrowed socks she is now wearing along with an absolutely divinely plush gray cardigan loaned to her by Mrs. Barnes. The lady of the house had insisted on adding the wettest items to the dryer - “As if I would let you back out into the street like that to freeze. My mother would come back and haunt me!” - which had included Peggy’s blouse and coat, though luckily not her singlet or her jeans (damp, but dark enough to have avoided scrutiny, so Peggy hadn’t needed to strategize a polite objection to wearing someone else’s trousers).

“I hesitate to offer considering my skills in this area, but can I do anything to help?” she finally asks.

Steve shakes his head as he sets a saucepan on the stove. “This is about the only thing I can make, but I can do it with my eyes closed.” He gestures her over to a seat, which she takes.

“Why was peppermint hot chocolate the one recipe you ever learned?” she wonders as he lights a burner and adds together milk, cocoa powder, chocolate chips, and a bit of sugar.

“I learned plenty,” he says, angling himself to see her and stir at the same time. “This was just the only one that stuck. My mom worked a lot, and plenty of night shifts. It was just the two of us, so I wanted to make sure she would come home to something warm and good after all of that. She passed a while back, but I still make it for Bucky’s family when I’m around - they’ve always been great to me.”

“Ah,” Peggy says, trying to sound normal and satisfied with his answer instead of a bit overcome by his factual sweetness, the way he seems completely unresentful of the multitude of Barnes relatives while he apparently has no family left. She clears her throat. “And what is it you do, other than distribute homemade hot beverages?”

He flashes a bit of a smile at her, tucking his hands into the pocket of the sweatshirt he had borrowed from Bucky’s old bedroom upstairs. His hair is adorably mussed from pulling it over his head, and Peggy can’t quite tear her eyes away.

“I run the art program over at the community center,” he says, turning to add a few drops of something to the chocolate mixture. From the scent which suffuses the air, Peggy guesses that it’s peppermint flavoring. “Afternoon classes, activities with the schools, workshops. My under-twelve group just put up a display at the local library if you want to go visit.” He sounds absurdly proud.

“How wonderful.” The words come out even more softly than she had thought they would. She tries to pull herself together with the crispness of tapping straight a stack of papers, but doesn’t quite manage it. The soft smile won’t leave her face and she wonders if it might be a permanent fixture now. Oh, they’ll certainly go their separate ways shortly, but she feels that there was some amount of luck involved in her having had the chance to meet him in the first place.

Blinking a little, he turns away and unwraps a few of the peppermint candies Mrs. Barnes has set out in a dish on the counter. “What do you do?” he asks, crushing the candies with the handle of a knife.

Feeling her smile fade a bit into something more businesslike, less touched by gentle joy, Peggy says, “I’m the policy director for a non-profit.” It’s her standard response, the beginning of a slow wade into the more detailed answer. It is also, she has to admit, the beginning of a test, one which nearly all the potential partners Angie had tried to set her up with ended up failing.

“Which one?” Steve asks, gliding unknowingly through the first level of scrutiny as he scrapes the crushed peppermints into a palm and deposits them into the pot, beginning to stir again. (Peggy still sometimes finds herself surprised at how many people are so eager to turn the topic back to themselves that they accept the most simplistic answer and move along.)

“The INRJ,” Peggy says. It seems that she’s holding her breath just a bit as she gives her usual pause. She finds that she does not want Steve to make a misstep in this. She thinks she might forgive him if he did.

“The International Network for Reproductive Justice, right?” The way he gives her a look, double checking, deferring to her knowledge: if there were truly points, he would have earned himself a bonus just then. “Back when it was the International Pro-Choice Network, my mom used to bring me along to play under the table while she was stuffing envelopes or phone banking.” He tilts his head to the side and adds, “Bucky actually reminded me of that a few weeks ago - he saw an ad for the symposium you were holding and thought I should check it out.”

“Oh, yes,” she says, using the reminder of work to shore herself up a bit from melting. “I was meant to speak about the effects of the global gag rule, but I ended up sitting on the tarmac at Heathrow instead.”

He makes a commiserating face. “They did say that the talk about adoption and foster care in eastern European countries was a last minute replacement, although the speaker was really good. I hadn’t realized that was supposed to be your spot. I’m sorry you didn’t get a chance to speak; I would have liked to hear what you had to say.”

“Yes,” she says, slightly dazedly, the word nearly lost in the sound as he snaps off the burner. “Natasha is quite talented. She always gives a good presentation.”

“The community health initiatives to reduce parent and child mortality in Sierra Leone sounded like amazing stuff too.” He’s still talking as he reaches into a cabinet for a pair of mugs, apparently not noticing her reaction. “I ended up donating to the hospital building fund after I got home.”

She’s told dozens of men over the years what she does for her job, and the responses have run the gamut from indifference to confusion to polite questions, from furious rants about the sanctity of life to pompous assurances of allyship. This is the first time she’s heard one of them discuss her organization’s projects with true interest, the first time everything seems to have been said genuinely and unprompted and without the aim of impressing her.

Which is why it does all the more.

“I was glad Bucky suggested it,” Steve tells her, setting her mug in front of her. He takes a seat across from her, his own mug in hand. “He’s been trying to get me to go to all of these random places lately, and the symposium was one of the more interesting.”

“I’ve actually been experiencing the same thing with Angie,” Peggy says, seizing on the topic as a way to keep her equilibrium. “In the last month she’s taken me to a wine and cheese tasting, a Broadway play, and an art showing at the Sage Gallery, which I actually think I would have enjoyed if I hadn’t needed to spend most of it in the stairwell on a conference call.”

Steve, who had been about to take a sip from his mug, lowers it back to the table. With care, he says, “Bucky tried to get me to go to a wine and cheese night but I had to fill in running a watercolors class at the senior center. We went to a Broadway play but ended up switching seats with mom and little kid so they could be on the aisle.” Voice dropping a bit, he adds, “And I had a showing of some paintings at the Sage Gallery three weeks ago.”

They glance in unison toward the living room, as if they might establish some facts by merely turning in the direction of their friends, but all they hear is the low sound of chatter and laughter.

“Angie has arranged so many dreadful dates for me in the past,” Peggy says, leaning over the table to speak to him quietly. “I told her she wasn’t allowed anymore.”

Steve nods. “When Buck sets me up, they always think I’m going to be just like him, and it’s awful to see their faces when they realize I’m not. I just wanted a break from having to sit through dinner with someone who was disappointed that it was me there.”

The mug is hot against her palms, and she finds herself taking in deep breaths of peppermint-scented steam. “One of these days, he’s certain to find you someone who isn’t an utter bloody fool, then,” she says, and though she truly means the words, they come out soft instead of sharp, an outstretched hand.

“I sort of think,” Steve says, tipping his chin up so his eyes catch the light even as they lock with hers. “I sort of think that he’s been trying.”

Later that night, once she’s tucked away in bed, she thinks about fate and design, the overlap between them, and decides that it doesn’t matter how the moment comes to be if she doesn’t do anything with it. She takes a deep breath and texts him: Your hot chocolate was quite good. Perhaps we could meet sometime so you can show me how to properly prepare it?

Not even a minute later, he responds: I think we can come to an arrangement.

Angie only gloats a little when she hears that a hot chocolate making lesson and a week of texting has led to the arrangement of an actual date. Bucky is not as gracious. Peggy can’t quite bring herself to care, and by the undeniable flicker of Steve’s smile, she suspects he feels the same.

[avtrkyoshis]

You Burn First (zuko x f!reader) pt. 5

hiiii thanks to everyone that’s been reading :))) pt 6 is coming soon!

ao3 link

masterlist // chapter 1 // chapter 4 //

Y/n spread her muted green towel out next to Zuko’s bright red one on the beach. She smiled to herself. She couldn’t help but notice how well their towels reflected their homes and personalities.

Zuko shoved the umbrella she had brought into the sand and flopped down onto his towel. He shoved his still wet hair out of his eyes and brushed some sand off of his legs. Y/n sat carefully on her own towel, trying to avoid sitting too close to Zuko. She had let him come back to the beach with her as a way of accepting his apology for earlier, but now that they were here she wasn’t sure what to do. They’d been alone together before but it was always in an official setting. Sitting alone with the Fire Lord on vacation hadn’t been covered in her training.

Absentmindedly, she started to play with the sand. Y/n liked to have something to do with her hands, often busying herself with her sword or fans when on duty. It helped her stay focused and kept her mind from wandering. Currently, she busied herself with making shapes out of the sand.

As the minutes passed she relaxed more in Zuko’s company. They sat in a comfortable silence, the Fire Lord content to watch the waves crashing on the beach while she continued to build with the sand. They were silent for so long, that Zuko’s voice breaking the peace caused Y/n to jump.

“What are you building?”

In her surprise, Y/n squashed one of the little buildings with her hand. She swore under her breath and looked up at Zuko. He was sitting cross legged on his towel, leaning forward slightly to get a better look at her creation. There was genuine curiosity on his face.

Y/n looked down at her tiny sand village.

“Oh. It’s my hometown. I wasn’t paying attention to what I was making, I must’ve just done it unconsciously,” she replied.

Zuko frowned a bit, “That doesn’t look like Kyoshi Island?”

“I’m surprised you remember what it looked like. Last time you were there, you seemed preoccupied burning it down.”

“What’s with everyone taking shots at me today!”

Y/n grinned at him, “I’m kidding! It doesn’t look like Kyoshi Island because it isn’t.”

Zuko furrowed his brow and tilted his head a bit, confused. Y/n sighed out of her nose lightly, steeling herself for what she was about to tell him.

“I was born in a small Earth Kingdom village, further into the mainland by the Si Wong desert. It’s name isn’t that important. It’s not there anymore,”

“What happened to it?” Zuko asked hesitantly. She had a feeling he already knew what she was about to say.

“When I was around 10 we were raided by a Fire Nation platoon. The village wasn’t prepared for it at all, we were so out of the way and insignificant that no Earth Kingdom soldiers had even considered defending us. Most of our capable earth benders had already left the village to join the military, so only non-benders and untrained benders were left,” Y/n said. “My parents did what they could to defend our home but they didn’t survive the attack. The platoon took our food and supplies, then torched our homes.”

Zuko stared at the sand village, sadness darkening features. “I’m sorry that happened to your home. I doubt I’ll ever manage to apologize for all that the Fire Nation has done to the world.”

“You’re trying. I think that’s all I can ask of you,” she replied. “After the platoon left, the survivors of my village were stuck as some of the many refugees in the Earth Kingdom. We decided to head to Kyoshi Island, since it was one of the few places left untouched by the war. I was newly orphaned and I felt so lost. But the Kyoshi Warriors took me in, they trained me. They became my family.”

Zuko looked up at Y/n. Their eyes connected and she saw something new in them.

Understanding.

“I know how it feels to be so lost. After I was banished, it felt like my life was over. All I could focus on was finding the Avatar and returning to the Fire Nation. I was so desperate to hold onto my home and I made some pretty stupid decisions because of that,” he said. “If it wasn’t for my Uncle and Aang, I don’t know what would’ve happened to me. They saved me.”

Zuko reached over and placed his hand on top of hers. He squeezed gently, trying to convey the things he didn’t know how to put into words.

“If you ever need anything, or to… talk. You can come to me. I might be able to understand more than you’d think,” Zuko said softly.

“Thank you,” Y/n whispered. She was worried that if she spoke any louder, her emotions would get the better of her. Zuko was one of the few people who now knew what happened to her. She’d only told the Kyoshi Warrior that first took her in and then later on, Suki. Her past was so personal to her and despite it being almost 9 years later, she still found it difficult to talk about her parents.

“I don’t know how much you were told or what rumours spread, but I’m sure you know that I didn’t exactly have an ideal childhood. My mother was banished when I was young and my father…” Zuko paused. He closed his eyes and took a deep breath. “It was a lot to deal with. Azula was a nightmare when we were kids, but she’s been through as much as I have. I was only able to reunite with my mother recently, and I even have a new younger sister now. I’m so incredibly happy that I’ve been able to rebuild my family. But it hasn’t been an easy journey. I still have nightmares about my childhood.”

“I think about my parents a lot. If they’d be proud of me now. I love the Kyoshi Warriors but I can’t help but think about what my life would be like if nothing had ever happened,” Y/n told him. She didn’t know why she was suddenly confessing this to him. Even Suki didn’t know this about her. Why did she think the Fire Lord would care about her past? Despite these thoughts, her deepest secrets continued to spill out.

“Neither of my parents were benders, I’m not either, so it’s not like we were able to do much outside of our village. Yet, they never seemed upset by their simple life. If they could see me now…” she laughed lightly. “I know I never imagined I’d end up as the Fire Lord’s personal bodyguard.”

Zuko smiled at her, “I know that it isn’t the easiest job. I can be difficult as Suki likes to put it. I hope I haven’t been too much of a burden for you.”

Y/n chuckled, “It hasn’t been terrible.”

Zuko’s hand still rested on hers. She glanced down at their hands, thought about how if she twisted her hand slightly she’d be able to lace her fingers through his. It sent a shock down her spine. Why was she thinking about holding hands with the Fire Lord? She looked out to the ocean, but didn’t move her hand.

Y/n thought she might’ve misjudged Zuko a little. She hadn’t known about his mother being banished or his reunion with her. In all honesty, she knew little about the intimate details of the Fire Nation royal family. She’d fought Azula and her friends with the Kyoshi Warriors, watched Zuko become Fire Lord, had tea at Iroh’s shop in Ba Sing Se. But she’d never really thought about their family and what it must’ve been like to be raised by someone like Ozai. Y/n had a newfound sympathy for him.

Y/n’s thoughts were interrupted by shouting coming from the water. She looked up to see Suki trying to help Sokka out of the water. She was dragging him more than anything.

Suki looked over to Zuko and Y/n. She began to say something, but cut herself off as she took in their closeness and hands. Y/n blushed furiously and roughly pulled her hand away from Zuko. Suki had a knowing smirk on her face as she pulled a spluttering Sokka towards them.

Desperate to avoid Suki’s inevitable teasing, Y/n quickly asked, “What happened to him?”

“Sokka got a little too excited trying to show off his water sword techniques,” Suki replied.

“Ah.”

“Hey, I would’ve been fine if you let me do that one spinny move!” Sokka protested from his spot draped over Suki.

“You can show me again when there isn’t the immediate threat of you drowning,” Suki told him.

They sat down on the sand next to Y/n, unknowingly destroying her sand village. A tiny piece of her heart broke watching her home disappearing in front of her again. Something brushed against her pinky. She glanced down to see Zuko’s hand subtly reaching to rest next to hers. Y/n let him.

---

They spent a few more hours on the beach, playing some beach ball and having sand castle building competitions. Azula and Ty Lee didn’t return until the sun had already begun to set. Zuko raised his eyebrows at them and Azula made a rude gesture that had Ty Lee scolding her for at least 5 minutes. They returned to the house as a group and ate a dinner that had been prepared by a chef that Y/n never saw.

She felt quite exhausted by the time they retired to the living room. This day had been draining physically and emotionally for her. A big part of Y/n wanted to escape and go to bed, but the soldier part of her brain forced her to stay.

She was sitting next to Suki on a couch as Azula pulled a bunch of expensive looking art supplies out of a bag.

Sokka looked over at the stack of canvases and paints, “I didn’t take you for an artist, Azula.”

She scoffed at him, “I’m not one. I paint to channel my emotions in a way that isn’t destructive, as the royal therapists like to describe it.”

Ty Lee beamed at Azula, “Ever since she started painting her aura has been way brighter! We even paint together sometimes. I packed enough supplies for all of us, I thought we could have a group painting night!”

“That sounds fun! I’m in. Toss me a canvas,” Suki said. The rest of the group chipped in with their agreement and Ty Lee began to pass out the supplies.

Y/n wasn’t too familiar with making art, preferring to channel her emotions through exercise and training. She didn’t count her warrior makeup as painting, though that did take practice to get right.

Sokka was already enthusiastically splattering paint onto his canvas. Zuko kept glancing at Sokka’s canvas, as if he was trying to figure out where to start on his own. Azula had also begun her piece, Ty Lee electing to lean on her shoulder and watch instead of doing her own painting. Suki was sketching out what looked like a scenic view of the mountains near Kyoshi Island.

Y/n looked at her canvas, unsure of what to do. Her life revolved around the Kyoshi Warriors and her job. She definitely had other interests though, right?

Ok maybe not.

She carefully used the paint brush to pick up paint in her palette. First the various shades of green and finally the fiery red tones. With that her first attempt at painting was started. Y/n wanted to paint someone that meant a lot to her.

Zuko craned his head towards her canvas trying to catch a peak at what Y/n was painting. She fluffed up his hair in response.

“Y/n!” he whined trying desperately to fix his hair.

“That’s what you get for being nosy,” she stuck her tongue at him, feeling comfortable around him for once. Their conversation from earlier had done more to their bond than she initially realized.

“I just wanted to see the painting you did of us.”

“Us?” she raised a brow.

Zuko took her canvas and held it up to get a better look.

“Isn’t the green person supposed to be you and the red one me? Don’t get me wrong, I like it a lot.”

Before Y/n  could correct him, Ty Lee took notice of their conversation.

“Awh! You painted each other holding hands. That’s so sweet Y/n!”

“Those are supposed to be people?” Azula questioned, pointing to the blobs on Y/n’s canvas.

Y/n quickly grabbed her canvas back, again feeling her cheeks flush.

“It’s obviously a painting of Avatar Kyoshi and General Rangi!”

“Wow, way to jump to conclusions Zuko. Didn’t know holding hands with Y/n was something that’s on your mind often,” Azula teased.

“I think about other things!” he grumbled.

“Like what?” Azula smirked, “Now that I have everyone's attention, look at my painting.”

Azula held up what was both the most beautifully done painting and the most horrifying thing Y/n had ever seen. The devil was in the small intricate bloody details she included. Something about her painting managed to shock almost everyone in the room. Even Ty Lee looked sick. The only person who did not react in shock was Zuko.

“Nice job Azula! Is this supposed to be your twelfth birthday?”

“I can’t believe I’m saying this Zuko but you’re actually right. Just this once though.”

Thoroughly disturbed, they all slowly started packing for the night. Sokka and Suki went to their room first. Azula brewed a cup of ginger tea for Ty Lee, who still felt a bit sick. There was only one room left in the house they were staying at, so Y/n started to set up her bed on one of the living room couches.

Zuko began to walk to his room, but then paused and gestured at Y/n to follow him. Confused, she got up and followed him. Before she knew it, they were alone. In his room.

“Did you need something or…” Y/n trailed off, fumbling with her hands. Not hearing her, Zuko began to change into his night clothes. Y/n frantically tried to avoid looking.

Zuko noticed her embarrassment and said, “I just thought you shouldn’t have to sleep in the living room. I was the one who invited you here in the first place.”

Oh. He was just getting ready for bed. In front of her. Kinda weird but that’s fine?

“Don’t worry about it Fire Lord. I’ve slept in worse places. I’ll be fine on the couch,” she said in an attempt to sound as professional as possible.

“Zuko,” he corrected her inching closer to her. Y/n’s cheeks flushed in response.

“I insist. Really, this bed is big enough for the both of us,” he sheepishly ran his fingers through his hair. “If it makes you feel any better, we can put pillows in the middle of the bed.”

“Alright,” Y/n shyly said, picking up pillows to pile in the middle of the bed. She layed on her side of the pillow pile, feeling Zuko’s warmth radiate from the other side.

“Goodnight, Y/n,” he whispered, blowing out the lights.

“Goodnight, Zuko.”

It wasn’t until she started to drift off into sleep that she noticed that was the first time she had ever addressed him by his name out loud.

taglist

@duh-dobrik @inthebisonsmouth @thaliawhitex @brbtryagainlater @paenitetmi @firelordtea @awkwardnesshabitat @eridanuswave @inmyowncorner @aangsupremacy @eridanuswave @royahllty @dancerslovelife @lammello @biblemami @coruscant-n @jasperelll @whalerus

[madmadmilk]

One After The One PART 1 | Tom Holland x Reader

Tinder BIO | soft TEASER | PART 1 | PART 2 | PART 3 | PART 4 | >>

Pairing: Tom Holland x Reader

Summary: What does one in a million even mean? Does it mean you’re the first of many or the fucking last? Does it mean that you’re somewhere in the middle? And what happens to the poor baby who ends up being the 999,999th one? Or worse, the one after The One? There ought to be some kind of prize for second to last, and second runner up. Especially when being #2 is your specific talent.

Warnings: Cursing, Suspicion, some Hard to Swallow Pills, and a million blurry pics

Word Count: 6.7K swipes left

Special Shoutout: Thank you @hypnotized-so-mesmerized for being a BETA for this chapter and for you lovely input!

-

“I can’t fucking believe you’ve got me fifth wheeling for this….” you sigh, as you blow strands of your hair away from your face. You walk briskly atop of the shifting sand behind your leggy friend.

All 5 foot 10 inches of her shakes with laughter as she watches you trip over yourself. She shrugs, “The more the merrier?”

You roll your eyes, resigning to a smile as she waves back for your hand to hold. You reach out and accept her offer loosely, allowing yourself to be pulled along.

“Come on, the boys are waiting.”

Right.

You watch the festival lights cast a warm glow at the edges of her silhouette. She smiles at you, bronzed, beautiful–– taken.

Over the past year, all your best friends started fucking dating each other.

Leaving you single, alone, and second best.

It wasn’t weird, it wasn’t unnatural–– but it quite literally happened over night. “This” is just your “new normal.”

You all still hung out, together, mismatched or separately. Nothing has stopped them from asking you to hang out, but there are times where you feel… The Line.

It was Common Sense tingling and telling you that certain occasions were more of a “date-night” rather than friendly get together. And the last thing you wanted to be was a cockblock to your own goddamn friends.

Like tonight, you were tagging along to the late-night-end-of-the-summer beach bar hop bash, with your two pairs of your closest friends. Sam and Ry, short for Ryan. And Liza and K, short for Erik.

Then there’s you, of course.

The three boys were waiting with drinks in hand, while you and Liza took your sweet time climbing the sandy stairs. This was the usual ritual, but you stood alone when you reached the guys. They paired off, easily, naturally, sweetly.

The vibrating radio-centric music drowned out the sounds of the lapping ocean, the conversation you walked into was near unintelligible, and the crowd was excited about something.

God, I wish that were me.

There wasn’t anything wrong with going to this year’s beach bash, as you go to it as a group every year–– it’s just that this time they were holding hands and you were holding a drink. It’s more sour than you’d like.

You were fine coming out “alone,” but who wants to be alone?

You greet one another with warm hugs and Liza immediately dives into a rant about officially moving in with K, and about how he doesn’t wanna mix his laundry with hers–– all those new domestic nuances. 

Sam rolls his eyes and exclaims, “Ry is the same fucking way–– like, it’s just cloth, babe.”

“Easy for you to say when all you wear is black––“ Ry retorts, pushing his boyfriend’s shoulder. 

Everyone starts with a snickering laugh, clinking beer bottles and recanting similar experiences.

Tonight you just don’t feel like it.

Living alone and sleeping alone is one of your specific talents. It’s been nice to have your own fucking bed, your own fucking room, your own fucking space–– all of it to just BE your own fucking self, by your fucking self. You’ve been this way for twenty-odd years now (kind of, you know what i mean). Love and friends are welcome to hang out, but at the end of the day, the place is all yours. And yours alone. That’s what home means to you.

“–– But living together hasn’t been as bad as I thought it would be,” Liza smacks her lips, looking down in short embarrassment. She leans back against K, “There are good things too.”

Sam is quick to point out their PDA, and you take another sip of your drink. You would have spoken up to contribute about your own experiences, once upon a time. But that’s a sore topic you’re not willing to relive on this breezy night.

Instead, you laugh along, crossing your arms while propping your elbow on the bar. You’ll let tonight be as rosy as it can be with no time to dwell. Your drink is near empty, consumed faster than you remember. Someone taps your shoulder.

“Hey.”

You blink dryly, resurfacing. “Hm?”

K is rubbing the side of your arm, those hazel eyes darkened in the low light. His dark brows were raised high, “You good?”

“Yeah, yeah. Of course,” you answer easily. You hold up your drink, making a smug face and down it to his bemusement. You shake the empty bottle, setting it back on the table. “Always good.”

He nods slowly, looking over at the other three still gossiping amongst themselves. You couldn’t hear their conversation, but you can only imagining Sam and Liza were poking at each other by the way that Ry was smiling.

K swings his head back to you, “Wanna dance?”

“Sure.”

And you follow him, aware that, no, he didn’t want to dance. He wanted to talk.

You walk away with him, unnoticed by the others and tracing your finger across a brick wall. He stops, leaning against it and you do too. Looking over him, neat clothes and nervous face, you raise a brow.

“Sorry––“ he starts slowly, scratching the back of his neck.

“For what?” You laugh, scrunching your brows as you nod your head to the muffled music.

“This. It’s weird, right? Us. All of us, dating. That last year we were the ones single and you were––“ he sighs, pulling his lip to the side, “Last year was totally different. And now we’re all here, still together. Together-together.”

“Mhm, it was going to happen sooner or later,” you muse. K has loved Liza since Day One. And you and him have both known it, and what it means to him now. His dreams become reality every second that passes.

“Shut up,” he swats at your arm. You see the curl of his smile behind the embarrassment, “Nah. No. But this must be awkward for you, huh?”

You shrug. “Little bit. I’ll get over it, you guys are still my friends.”

His eyes search yours for the real truth. They were all so worried that them coupling up would ruin something, between themselves and with you. Ha. You told they they were stupid for thinking that. You believe in seizing the opportunities, in taking leaps and following your partner around the world–– in theory, at least.

They confided in you individually and you told them all the same thing. Tailored to their personalities, but in the same conceptual vein. 

“If it works, it works. If it doesn’t, then at least you tried and you don't have to spend another day wondering ‘what if..?’”

And they bought it. Now, that being said, you already knew that they all fucking liked each other so–– push her and push him and push him and him, and things will fall into place.

It’s just that… the new thing is that you’re the one out out of the loop. You used to be the first to know but now you’re last to find out. And that is strange.

You’re not their number 1 anymore. And there’s nothing you can say about it.

“You’re still my best friend, got it?” K leans his shoulder on yours and you rest yourself against him too. 

“Yeah, yeah, I know.”

Today, but not tomorrow.

It’s hard not to be bitter, and it’s horrible that there’s no remedy for it. FOMO is a new-age disease, after all. No science to sort it out yet, no justification to satiate it.

“So…. You talkin’ to anyone? Looking?” He asks too casually for a question he knew you hated. He bumps elbows with you and shake along with it.

“Nope,” your mouth pops at the “p.” 

He raises his brows again, and argh you hate that. There was always someone you were talking to, or someone you’ve been with. But not these days. These days you felt too tired to be someone’s ideal anything. 

“There are some cute guys around, looking at you,” his eyes twinkle a little too brightly for a straight guy with horrible taste. (Facts backed up by Sam, Ry, Liza, AND personal experience) “Plenty of fish, yeah?”

You shake your head, not interested. Sex could come and go, infatuation could come and go–– but you’re kinda tired of the short stuff.  But not exactly ready for a whole-ass relationship either. You don’t need to explain yourself–– you just know you wouldn’t last the night.

“Not in the mood,” you huff.

“Tonight,” he says suggestively, wiggling his shoulders.

You both laugh, you a little bit dryly. You try to direct his attention back to Liza and their budding romance, as the trio finds you guys again. At first they didn’t immediately stand coupled, Ry handing you a drink and Sam going to talk to K. Liza smoothed out her clothes and you all talked about some new plans. It was an honest good time. Ry spilled his drink on Sam, and complained about the laundry again–– Liza got waaaay too drunk and you and K were holding her in your arms while she staggered like Bambi.

It was nice and warm, and a lot like old times. 

I missed that.

You felt yourself smile and let loose–– not thinking of old ex’s or new flings. Just about the friends before you and how safe they made you feel, and how happy you are to see them happy. That’s love, right?

“Oh my god, look!” someone exclaimed, pointing a finger at the sky. You hear a loud clap.

As the night faded and grew colder, fireworks erupted into the sky with a loud crackle. You guys squealed and ran to the top of a sand dune, tripping and tumbling to see the dying summer sights. The fizzing calmed your calls. It’s funny how loud fiery skies filled you with the same awe every time. How it quieted you and made you feel small.

The couples soon held each other, soft embraces with their necks craned upwards. Their eyes twinkled from bursts of lights, smiling at the sharp crackles of sound.

Tonight was the one of many nights they would be able to spend in each other’s arms, so far away and close to you all at once.

This was the line you were cautious about–– you couldn’t talk to them when they were like this, out of courtesy. Out of honoring their moment.

You stood back, watching their excited faces instead of the bursting sky. You felt it. Not jealousy or bitterness, but the awful choke of curiousity and selfishness. The “what if that were me?”

It’s been a while since you’ve had arms wrap over your shoulders and kissed your hair. Enough time has passed for you to forget what that felt like. Too long? What was that like again?

The finale of fireworks struck across the inky, dark sky. You inhaled the smell of chalky smoke, tasting the salt in the air.  Lights and colors fill your eyes, unblinking.

You suck in your cheeks as it quiets and you can hear the ocean again. 

And you let yourself think, I want that again.

So with a new pulse, you went home and did the only logical thing in finding the next Love of Your Life.

You downloaded Tinder.

-

You avoided “serious” dating and being a “serious” anything to anyone, but seeing that “seriousness” in your friends made you wonder if you could be anything like them. If you were ready to open your heart to the possibility of loving and being loved.

Seriously. Sincerely. No bullshit.

This time.

At least, that’s what you told yourself as you messed around setting up a profile on Tinder. Regretfully spending way too long shuffling through old selfies that were engaging and enticing. You sigh as you pick through the lot, frustrated at the mind games that have already started.

It’s tiring.

And that’s probably why you end up cracking a few days later and end up telling Sam and Ryan. It was a short two word text, “Tinder. Help?” And you got a speedy reply from both of them (even when you knew they were most likely sat right next to each other). They were at your place in less than an hour.

Sam applauds your efforts, but is only there for moral support more or less. He’s an ace at the dating game, but has no patience to explain his ways. 

“Typical,” You and Ry hum, as Sam rifles through your pantry instead.

Ryan, quiet as he is, sat with you and looked through the photos you choose. He broke down the psychology of it all; about the aloofness and whatever–– which you understood. You need to try hard, but not look like you are. Effortlessness, funny, chic, digestible, likeable–– 

“Performative.” He says flatly, “But this is fast and simple.”

And you have to agree, looking at your phone in his hands.

You blink as you reflect.

This is so much easier in fiction, in those movies where people go on a million dates in one week and match with the hottest fucking dudes ever. Where the protagonist has the perfect amount of self-confidence to keep her moving forward, endless chances to mess up and and still get the guy… God, it’s so easy on paper. There’s no dignity to lose. But here? In the “real” world, even on an app you could delete at anytime–– to put yourself out there? Mortifying.

But, at least you’re bored enough to try.

So, what the fuck, right?

“Did you tell Liza and K yet?” 

“No, they would definitely try to set me up with someone real,” you laugh, leaning back on the couch. You wriggle your toes and tilt your head away.

Ry leans back with you with a brow raised, “Isn’t that… the point?”

Yeah, like, true. They have lots of friends they’re always trying to peddle your way, which is cool and all but… it’s a lot harder to pick and choose and ghost someone when you have mutual contacts.

He read the look on your face and nodded slowly, “Got it, got it.” He laughed to himself, perceptive and cautious. He extends his thoughts, “But you gotta tell us if you actually go and meet anyone. K would kill us if you didn’t say anything.”

“I won’t get into any trouble,” you squint, looking away from him mischievously.

“Uh-huh,” Ry affirms plainly as he swipes right on a few cute boys. 

-

Your experience with dating apps was limited–– you made a joke account a while ago and never really did much with it. Then you had a more “real” account that you never tried sincerely with. You had real people you dated at the time–– uhm. But now, now that you’re actually on here looking… it is bleak.

It’s a Saturday night and you’re winding down with a glass of wine swiping through your options. People you actually knew showed up, and you swiped that shit away so fast you almost chucked your phone with it. You flipped through people who looked fake for real, some older dudes, and plenty of people with vibes you didn’t like–– the pool is so wide you almost didn’t know where to start. And you could afford to be picky, sure. It’s just, who knew that “too many options” would actually be a problem.

You spend the next few days idling checking and chatting, not getting any viable catches. You felt like you were just peering into small windows, head in and head out. Nothing caught your attention long enough for you to want to look in further.

You even start poking at things you never wanted to acknowledge as real, like the impact of cheesy bios, and deciphering who was who in group pics, and the thrilling amount of dudes holding up fish.

Pretty wack.

You felt yourself grow tired of it again. The adrenaline was waning, burnt to the stump. Good thing you didn’t try too hard. Pfft.

You sleepily swipe away on your phone, too late into the night. You blink hard as you snuggle into your covers, muttering, 

“Just one more.”

Ah.

>>  check out the whole bio here <<

“T, 23. Friendly, neighborhood romantic,” you whisper to yourself. You crack a small smile.

After countless swipes left, and (1) accidental swipe right, you match with a blurry boy–– super sus, I know. You don’t know how it happened tbh–– there’s nothing to “look” at, but your eyes fell on this one. Maybe because you just watched “Far From Home,” and enjoyed this spidey reference. Or you’re just innately drawn to the word “romantic.” Could be either, easily.

“It’s a match!”

Shit. You mumble, your profile photos floating together. You take a second to look through his meager collection. They were all obscure and blurry and not exactly in the artsy way.

You couldn’t decipher much, only that he had fair skin (?), with dark hair and dark eyes, but even that was questionable. 

You’re pretty sure you matched with a bot or some old dude, or worse, a kid. You can hardly see his face in the pictures, blurry or cropped or covered.

Okay...

Is that his real name? Probably not. Is he actually 23? Doubt it. Is this going to go anywhere? Let’s hope not.

But whatever, it’s the first “match” that has seemed interesting in the past few days, solely on your pickiness. And this random bastards only gets you out of dumb luck.

You rub your eyes, and set down your phone, resigning to your stupidity.

You’ll deal with it in the morning.

Good night.

And the gears were set in motion as you slept.

You had a new message on tinder waiting for you, but you didn’t check the app until much later. You go through your Sunday morning routine, only opening your phone after a light breakfast and stretch. 

“Oh god,” you blink as you catch the red notification. You look around the room, preparing yourself for what could be anything. You take a deep breath and open the chat.

T: Hey

Oh. You stare at it, so bare with no personality to pick at. You wonder if you should even reply, but by the grips of boredom, you do.

You: Hey!

You set your phone down, trying to swallow the short thrill. You walk away for a moment. A reply comes within minutes.

And it’s a goddamn mess.

T: Sorry, i’ve never done this before.

Strike one. You suck in your cheeks. While you’re fairly new at this too, you… don’t know how much time you want to invest it in. Here again, you debate replying back–– but he beats you to it.

T: I’m trying to get over my ex

UHM? Strike two, you almost have to laugh. This is just testing your patience. Your jaw wriggles as you see he has more to say…

T: And you look a lot like her.

Damn. Strike three, he’s out. He’s got to know that would put anyone off, right? Why would you even admit that straight out? T? Come on, man.

You: i’m not sure if that’s a compliment or an insult.

T: it’s an apology now, i didn’t know what to say

You: you could have complimented my killer smile or the pic of me with a dog. Anything but that

T: Right, right. I’m such a dickhead. Sorry, it’s nice to meet you though.

You hold your phone away, debating whether or not you should just delete the entire goddamn thing because this was just too stupid–– but it’s Sunday morning and what do you have left to lose. 

You chew on the side of your lip, deciding to entertain “T,” but don’t spare him any soft words. You’d rather get straight to the point.

You: So… you go by “T?” And don’t have any real pics of your face? Are you even real???

T: Yeah, just private

You: kinda defeats the purpose of putting yourself out there though, right? Lol

T: It’s too easy if i put my face out there

You: oh, ha ha ha. So you’re saying you’re too hot to show your face? Love the confidence dude

And this is where you start actually laughing out loud. You wipe away tears at the side of your eyes, cackling at this display of internet confidence. It’s a tiny piece of amusement from a stranger you have 0 feelings for, and you’re not going to be mean to him… but you’ll definitely poke fun to see how far you can get.

Besides, he’s still replying back right? That’s almost hilarious in itself.

T: Hey, confidence is sexy, right?

You: yeah, more in person than online! 😂 (Laughing emoji)

You take a second to scroll back through his photos, and check to see if he has a link to instagram, twitter, anything. But he doesn’t. You try to pull up any evidence you can–– and at the very least, these blurry pics all look like they’re taken of the same person.

Slight build with dark curled hair–– rippable from any ambiguous online “hot boy” mood board though. 

You’re wary.

You spot a picture with his smile, crinkled eye and lifted lip. You could swear he looked familiar… but maybe that’s because you’ve seen that same white boy/model on Pinterest.

Maybe.

T: wanna meet up and see for yourself?

You: maybe if you show me your face first

T: can’t do that quite yet, but I’d love to keep talking to you

You furrow your brows as you read his words. He would be down to meeting up with you upfront, but hesitates to send you a picture beforehand? That’s definitely a red flag, right? Right?

(Yes. Yes it is.)

You pull yourself back and let out a deep sigh. You’re probably the only person he’s talking to, especially with those purposeful (?) blurry pics and cryptic everything. Ugh.

It’s not playing yourself if you know it’s fake right? You can step out of this at anytime.

You: as long as you can hold my attention :) 

T: I’ll try my very best ✌🏼 (peace sign emoji)

–– and with some very, very loose banter…. you end up exchanging numbers. You’ve put the whole Tinder thing on pause for now–– all four days of it. All for one stranger with no tact.

Unknown Number: hey, this is t (smiley face)

You: pfffft, I’m going to call you Blurry Boy. Since your name obviously isn’t T

BB: that’s fine with me :) mind if i call you darling?

You: ew

BB: o come on. It’s cute

You: please tell me you’re actually 23 or i swear to god I’m going to fucking lose it

BB: I swear 🤞🏼 (fingers crossed emoji)

You: ok. Prove it. Send me a pic of you–– you face or whatever

Ok. That’s a leap. He could rip a picture from anywhere but let’s see how fast he could do it. If it takes too long, then he probably did just rip it from the internet.

And if he makes a mistake and actually sends you a clear pic of himself? Well, that could only be seen as a win.

BB: 

But you are ruthless.

You: ok. Send me another one.

And he could stop if he wanted to.

Only, he doesn’t. In a short moment, he sends another picture.

BB:

Same room, same face, same glasses. I guess you could believe him… for now. No matter how shitty the photos have end up....

But he could also be one of those people with folders full of stock photos… you never know.

But putting paranoia aside, you decide to turn off the heat a lil. You grab your coffee and sit on your couch, sliding into a comfy position. You turn on some YouTube videos on your laptop, watching the first few seconds as you lean your cheek against the couch cushions.

Phew.

You: thanks…. sorry I’m so paranoid. But you truly have the worst pictures of yourself put up there. Potato quality.

BB: nah, i know. I get it. Haha it’s alright, a pretty girl like you needs to protect herself

You: oh BOY that doesn’t make me feel any better 😂(laughing emoji)

BB: fuck, sorry. Ugh that is fuckin creepy. Shit. I’m terrible at texting

You: no, no. It’s alright. Actually, great job with taking those photos so fast. Most people would have taken sooooo much longer. You get a few points for not holding back

BB: babe, i told you. I’m gorgeous. I don’t gotta worry about it 😂😂💕 (laughing emojis)

You: right, right blurry boy. Great job with all those fuzzy ass photos.  🙄 (Eye roll emoji) haha are you really looking for someone out here or…?

BB: sort of. I’m testing out the waters and… you’re really pretty

You have to blink back and roll your eye, you’re unable to digest this conversation as real. They’re flowery words given to you, for sure, but your suspicion is much stronger. Your guard will not let down or be appeased by some blurry ass dude calling you “pretty.”

He replies before you have the chance.

BB: i dont wanna get into the messy details but yeah. Company sounds great right about now

You: yeah, i feel that

It’s a real and valid reply, but it’s a terrible one. It’s so hard for someone to reply back to that–– but you’re testing his perseverance. If he finds something to say back, it might just prove one more thing to you. That he might actually be interested, and someone worth talking to.

BB: sorry i lead with my baggage, I’m a fucking mess

You: *a confident fucking mess

BB: thank you 😇 (angel emoji)

You: don’t worry about it, I’ve seen worse

 You laugh darkly to yourself. I’ve been worse.

BB: hahahaha thanks. Ok. But all that aside… real talk now. Can I ask you about the dog in your photo now?

You hate to admit that your lips curled into a smile, as you hastily type back. 

Your coffee was half drank and cold by now. The YouTube video you were supposed to be watching has moved onto part two. 

You eyes are still scanning your text screen, waiting to see those three bouncing dots at the bottom left hand corner. 

He’s not the worst–– and at most, even if this turns out to be fake, this is just your Sunday morning entertainment. Nothing more and nothing less. These are just insignificant texts that will probably lead to a few lost days, or mediocre sex at best.

So, whatever, right?

-

MONDAY MORNING

BB: good morning! ☀️ (sun emoji)

You: well you sure get up early. Good morning 

BB: Haha, I like to start the week as soon as i can. Do you drink coffee or tea in the morning?

You: coffee most days. You?

BB: i drink tea, darling

You: yeah that’s probably better for you haha. Less expensive too.

BB: mhm, definitely cheaper if you come over and i make you a cup

You: wow, the flirting starts the second the sun is up, huh?

BB: what, still too early? 

You: never too early

BB: do you brew the coffee yourself?

You: some mornings. I usually pop into XX Cafe midday if i can.

BB: catch you there? 😂 (laughing emoji) nah, i’ll have to check the place out. I don’t know this area too well.

You: i guess if you can find me! I’m usually in and out pretty fast. Got places to be you know? Hm, did you just move here?

BB: yeah, i got settled in about a week ago

You: staying long?

BB: long enough

You: oh ha ha. Seriously not suspicious at all

BB: yeah I’m in town for a month or two. I’m getting away from work and stress for a minute

You: and you chose here?

BB: quiet enough for me. 😌 (smiley face) and you’re here so that’s a plus

You: relentless

BB: and nothing less.

-

MONDAY EVENING

BB: you haven’t seen that series? You’re crazy

You: whaaat! It’s not my thing. AND i don’t have time for it

BB: it’s a masterpiece, come on! Who doesn’t like laughing? It’s funny! You’ll like it

You: you’re gonna owe me a drink if don’t like it

BB: I’ll gladly buy you one right now if that’s what it takes to get you to watch it

You: ugh, i guess if you recommend it i can tryyyy…

BB: you won’t regret it!

You: ugh you are so annoying. What are you up to right now?

BB: reading emails and talking to you

You: haha what’s so important that you’re reading an email at like 11. Gotta turn on that “do not disturb” dude

BB: I can’t mute the work stuff, unfortunately

You: so if i called you over tonight you wouldn’t be able to? “Because of work?”

BB: you serious? I’m only taking serious offers right now

You: No! It’s monday. Can’t indulge you that early in the week

BB:  what a shame. I’d drop it in a heartbeat for you

You: Nice to know 

BB: I’ve got a feeling that I shouldn’t have told you that (laughing emoji)

You:  😈 (devil emoji)

-

TUESDAY MORNING

BB: good morning!

You: hey! I remembered I had some tea back at my apartment so… just wanted to let you know you had an impact on my day 🙄😊 (eye roll emoji and smiley face emoji)

BB: I could still make a better cup for you 😘 (kissy face emoji)

You: right. What do you have planned today?

BB: hmm, I’m heading out to the gym. Then I might explore the city a bit. Bump into me?

You: well, I don’t know if I could recognize you even if i wanted to

BB: you’ll recognize me

You: haha, okay? Wait, do I know you? –– if this is a prank… 

BB: it’s not! 

You: .. that wouldn’t be cool.

BB: it’s not a prank! There’s just a lot of things I can’t tell you just yet. It’d be a lot easier if we were able to meet up in person.

You: why?

BB: I’m pretty private. It’s really hard for me to just… share certain things with you. But I want to! SO badly! I just can’t send you a whole picture of my face. It’s complicated.

You: Sorry? I don’t get it.

BB: Ahhhh. This is going to sound so bad. I trust you, like as a person. But also I can’t trust you. If you meet me–– you’ll understand why. I’m sorry. 

You: Okay…? And you have to understand that this sounds absolutely batshit to me, right? Like it’s pretty hard to trust you like this. 

BB: yeah I know. I’m sorry. I don’t blame you if you don’t believe me. But honestly, it’s nice to be able to talk to you like this and I hope we can continue to chat. I really do like you.

You: … That is really unfair.

BB: I know! I’m sorry. Give me another day or two–– i have a few things to figure out but, I SWEAR i’m not lying to you. I promise it’ll make sense soon

You: well, if you promise you’re not a creep….

BB: I’m not!

You: and that you’re not using me as a replacement for your ex

BB: I won’t!

You: you are SO lucky i’m patient

BB: and kind. And beautiful. And amazing.

You: you’re pushing it, blurry boy. I just need you to realize how unfair this is.

BB: I do. And I know. I’m sorry.

You: what are you looking for here? With me or with anyone you would have met from the app?

BB: a home away from home

You: yeah i read that in your bio. What does that mean?

BB: I’m looking for someone I can spend time with and trust with my whole heart

You: ha ha

BB: I’m serious. It’s hard to find.

You: you’re a real romantic, that’s for sure

-

TUESDAY EVENING

You: you have a DOG and you didn’t tell me?

BB: what, you’re not interested in the fact that I have younger twin brothers and another 8 years younger than me? ‘Always about Tessa

You: obviously! Send a pic!

BB: 

You: is this from right now?

BB: nah, something I took ages ago. I had to leave her back home with my family.

You: aww, that’s too bad.

BB:  would you come over if she were here?

You: Duh! And I guess you’d have to make me a cup.

BB: sounds lovely. Let’s make it a date

You: ha ha. You miss home?

BB: More than you know. I travel A LOT

You: well, call back often! They would be happy to know you miss them! Loneliness is not a great feeling.

BB: I do, all the time! And definitely not a good feeling. So, it’s really nice to talk to you. Thank you.

You: Sorry, I’m not a very great conversational partner. But still happy to hear that

BB: You are. You’re still here

You: You are too.

BB: You already mean a lot to me

You: Have you been in many relationships? (Or hookups idk)

BB: No, and not really. I’ve only been in a handful of long-term relationships

You: Interesting

BB: What?

You: Just wondering if you are really catching feelings for me

BB: Guilty. You?

You: I don’t think I know enough about you to catch anything. No offense 😬😅(cringe emoji, laughing emoji)

BB: Ha, no. I meant if you’ve been in many relationships?

You: Oh! Sorry. A few of either. Did long-term once. Didn’t work out, obviously–– so here I am. That’s that.

BB: Guess we both have a past to bury

You: Please don’t say anything about “burying yourself into my pussy to feel better”

BB: WHAT. I wasn’t even thinking about that. That’s all you 👀

You: Hey, you’ve been pretty quick all the other times, bud.

BB: If I tell you I want more than just sex, does that make you feel better?

You: It makes me think about the fact that you still want to have sex with me

BB: And I can’t deny that 😊 (smiley blushy face emoji)

-

WEDNESDAY MORNING:

BB: Good morning!

You: Morning! Little later than usual–– sleeping in?

BB: Yeah, since I can afford to. You replied quicker than usual. Were you waiting for me? 😉 (wink emoji)

You: Haha, you wish. I was already on my phone, stud.

BB: Right, right. I can tell you like to play hard to get

You: No I don’t!

BB: 😂 (laughing emoji)

You: I don’t!

BB: Wow, feels great to finally have something to hold over you 

You: I hate you 🙄 (eye roll emoji)

BB: Have a nice day, love 😊🌈(smiley face, rainbow emoji)

-

PING! 

“BB? Who is bb?” Liza asks you on Wednesday evening after seeing a notification pop up on your phone. She grabs it off the sticky cafe table and looks at you with her pretty head tilted.

Oh––

You wiggle your jaw, and raise your brows,

 “No one important.” 

You take your phone back and open the message discreetly. It’s nothing special, you’re sure, but you have to look.

BB: so have you seen the last episode yet????? Hello??

“I didn’t know you were seeing anyone!” She pleads, putting down the drink in her hands. You were at the mall, idly walking and taking a short break. She looks at you pointedly, eyes darting around your face for any spot of weakness, as she quietly whines, “You didn’t tell us anything about this…”

“It’s because I’m not––”  You offer, nodding. You flip your phone upside down as the message lights up again. “–– seeing anyone.”

She gives you a squinted look of total disbelief.

You’ve been messaging “Blurry Boy” nonstop for the past few days. First you talked about nothing, and now you’re asking each other about how your day was going and what you’re doing now, and what you’re doing later. 

You always find something. Your phone is constantly by your side, sound on.

And there’s a layer of real time now, now that you’ve gotten to know him and his schedule better.

You learn that he has his own cute dog name Tessa and that his family fosters dogs back home, and that he’s the oldest, with twin brothers and a younger one he’s been trying desperately to relate to. You find out that his favorite color is black and that he’s in deep shit for stealing his best friend’s fav hoodie. All of this makes him feel like someone you know, someone you could call a friend.

He feels like more than just some guy you’ve talked to waaaay too long from Tinder.

And what’s worse, is that he knows certain things about you too. He knows that you don’t like sleeping in the dark and that you’re borderline addicted to iced coffee. That you like rewatching old romcoms and classic spooky movies… That your back hurts from work and that you have a fucking dentist appointment on Thursday. 

You know a lot more about each other than less. And that’s kinda really fucking weird.

“You’re always smiling at your phone,” Liza says flatly, picking her drink back up to take a long and loud sip. Major side-eye. “‘Fess up.”

“No, I’m not!” You say through your teeth, trying to not smile. But under her stare you melt and crack under pressure.

You keep telling yourself that you’ll stop replying–– that he’s super sus and this isn’t going anywhere. But… you just keep texting him back.

“It’s nothing, seriously.”

“Let me see,” she pouts. “Pleeeease.” She flaps her hands at you, wriggling her fingers.

“No!”

Even though you know that it’s a losing game with her, you try to put up a fight, turning away and holding your phone tightly. You have onlookers now from the squealing, kicking and creaking chairs.

You give in after a minute.

You hand your phone in defeat as you readjust yourselves. You clear your throat.

“Okay, okay. But this is like, not serious at all, okay.” You rationalize as you show her the pictures you had screenshot and saved from him. “I barely know him.”

Barely! You’ve chanted that in your head over and over. Not enough to know if you want to get to know him, or what to drop him. That’s the purgatory you’ve been living in.

Liza is uncharacteristically quiet as she scrolls up and down the chats and flips through the pictures. Her hair covers whatever expression she’s making.

That makes you nervous, and you start babbling.

“Yeah, I mean. I don’t think he’s real or anything–– It’s just for fun and it’s whatever. I don’t even care.”

Yeah, yeah, yeah.

She freezes on a picture of him. The one where you can see a part of his smile and a crinkled eye. She zooms in and pauses again.

?

“Babe?” Her voice is cautious and slow. God. You don’t want to hear what she has to say next with this tone of voice…

“Hm?” You attempt to perk up, hiding the fact that you just gulped with nerves. It feels like you’re holding something sour in your mouth.

I don’t like this...

“So, he seems like a super nice guy and all but…” She speaks gingerly and wide eyed.

“But what?” You feel yourself recoil. 

As much as you talk a big game… it would still hurt to have this illusion shattered. This self-inflicted fantasy. You don’t want her to keep going. 

But you can guess what’s coming next.

...

“I… I think he’s using pictures of Tom Holland.”

…

…

…

Wait…...

What?!

-

A.N: WAH! she’s back!! well, as much as she can be. haha i know i have a million things always running at the same time but... i really will just ride the wave of inspiration as it comes.... that’s all i can do. anyway, hope you like this series! it’s going to be an exploration of starting new relationships in your young adulthood–– and how to handle be “The one” after “The One.” it’ll be a good time.

Thank you guys for reading! Please like, comment and reblog :) You’re all amazing. 

Much Love,

Madmadmilk 💫

** i do NOT keep up with a taglist. track #one after the one to keep up with the updates, or check out my masterlist! thanks! 

[concealeddarkness13]

WHG 15 Post-Games Imposter Syndrome Part 20

This is two days after the interview! Tagging: @sparkles-and-hens, @knmartinshouldbewriting, @maple-writes, @pen-of-roses (also thanks for Conor!), @thoughts-of-nora, and @ratracechronicler!

I woke up early because I actually had a chance to find my friends and escape with everyone. The Capitol had told us to find the “escaped tributes”, and it was the best time I could think of to try and escape with everyone. It wasn’t the most ideal plan, but it would work in a pinch.

Of course, just as I thought that, the door to my room opened, and Churi stepped in with the most annoying smile on his face. He bowed slightly. “It seems you’re eager to go capture your friends.”

I automatically shot him my middle finger as I also gave him a sweet smile. “You should be happy with how obedient I’ve been.”

His eyes darkened, and he stomped over to me, grabbing me by my shirt collar. “You’re planning something, aren’t you, girl? You’ve been a thorn in my side since you’ve shown up. You won’t be obedient now.”

I laughed. “What do you want from me? I’ll search for the tributes you’ve hidden from me.” Possibly. Maybe they really had escaped.

He hissed. “I want you broken. And you’re not broken yet.” I just smiled at him, and he paused, looking thoughtful. “It makes me wonder what will make you broken. It seems effective to use your friends against you. But it’s not enough.”

He let go of my collar and started pacing. He was muttering, as if to himself. “But what to do then? What else can we use to make sure you’re obedient? Your crew is already shattered to pieces. And your tribute friends are already being used against you. Ah. I know.” He glanced up at me with a wicked smile, and I glared at him. He knew exactly what he was doing.

He disappeared into some kind of smoke (yeah, didn’t I tell you that the Shades were shapeshifters?), and when he reappeared, he had the appearance of…my mom.

I stared at him as he laughed. In her voice, or what I assumed was her voice, he spoke. “My dear child, I wish you had never been born.” I stiffened. It just hit so much harder when it looked and sounded like her. “You caused me so much grief and pain. It wasn’t worth it.” He/she—it was hard to differentiate anymore—walked up to me and caressed my face. “You’re not my daughter. I do not claim you. You will never belong anywhere. So, just do as the Capitol says, and you won’t cause me any more trouble.”

I hated how my voice wavered. “You’re not her. Show me your real face, you ass.”

He did not change. “Oh, I know exactly how she thinks. And she wishes she never had a mistake of a daughter and the pain that came with that. You never should have been born. No one wants you or cares about you.”

I glared at him. That…that couldn’t be true. “Fine. I’ll be obedient. Happy?” Not meaning any word.

He hissed and actually changed back to his normal form. “I don’t believe you. And I will not let you leave until you have convinced me.”

I clenched my jaw. “What do you want me to do? Beg on my knees? Your expectations are too high. I will not give you the satisfaction.”

“Oh, you will. Don’t worry about that.” He snarled and reached toward me, as if he was going to wrap a hand around my neck, and I flinched, but the door opened. And Conor stood on the other side. Shit.

“Now now, is that any way to treat an honored guest?” He leaned against the doorframe, studying his nails and looking bored, but I could hear something dark in his voice. “Or were you planning on catching my attention?” His eyes flicked up to Churi.

This was probably the first time that I saw Churi looking scared. He opened his mouth a couple times before he slunk away. Good riddance.

But now I had to deal with this jerk. I just stayed quiet and kept getting ready. I didn’t trust my voice.

Bystander watched Churi go and turned back to me with a dramatic sigh. “And here I was hoping for a fun round of banter to be the highlight of my day. Tell me, did he say anything intelligent, or was it all threats?”

I didn’t look at him. “I apologize. I won’t be much for banter either. I need to go do as the Capitol requires of me.”

He raised an eyebrow. “Oh? An adventure? I’ll accompany you. After all, I’m curious about an event they failed to inform me of today when I asked if you were free.”

Really? He would just go with me? That wasn’t ideal, but I would think there would be more resistance. I forced myself to smile brightly over at him. “Of course! It’s just a boring adventure, but you may accompany me.”

“Wonderful, so where are we going then?” He didn’t move.

“Hell if I know. The Capitol told me to search for the ‘escaped tributes’ without any direction.” Even though I had no idea what the truth was anymore.

“And here I thought you said they told you that no tributes had escaped because they were all caught?”

And that was why I didn’t know what to believe anymore. “They’re saying that this is a test of my loyalty, and if I don’t do as I’m told, they’ll just kill them.”

He laughed. “Oh the tried and true lie. If that was the case, why not just kill them to begin with? It’s not as if they don’t have quite the history of randomly offing those they dislike. Honestly, do try better than that when crafting a lie. I wonder if it’s as sour or bitter on the tongue as it is to hear.”

That old shit again. But he still hadn’t moved, and he was trying to get me to talk. I nodded. “Right. So, I should probably get going.”

“And where exactly are we starting this search?” He was standing in such a way that I couldn’t get around him without getting too close. Of course.

“They’d probably hide them in plain sight. An out of the way apartment perhaps?”

“Hmm. And tell me, what are you hoping will happen if you find them? Surely you know you’re being watched carefully while here right? If they’re under the Capitol’s control as you so adamantly believe,” he rolled his eyes at that, “they would be as well, perhaps more or less overtly. And what happens when the first whispers of escape are spoken? Maybe not death, at least not right away, but I doubt the Capitol will be happy if they make another attempt, already being in such a precarious position. And then of course, there’s my…claim, which you have spurned up until this point, but say I am right, and you seek them out, who would you be leading to their door?”

I bristled and crossed my arms. “You think I can’t handle some Peacekeepers? And that I don’t know how to hide people?”

“Yet you believe yourself the reason your friends were captured. And tell me, do you truly believe that only Peacekeepers are watching you given the attentions you’ve drawn? You’re still on their turf, and you’re not the only one who was hiding something.”

Shit. I knew I was incompetent. I knew I wasn’t good enough. But I had to do this. It could be my only chance. I gritted my teeth. “And who the hell cares? I’ll do whatever it takes to make up for my mistakes. So, you can fuck off.”

He raised his hands in a placating manner. “Apologies, there were concerns over how your own doubt would affect you, yet you are determined, so clearly you have a solid plan that’s already taken into account the various situations. Still, I have a tendency to wonder after Raindrop’s safety in these matters, and anymore undo attention towards her, well, she’s not as quick with her words as…Nevertheless, that is none of your concern of course, your own safety should be considered, though I doubt you’ve given it much thought considering how we’ve ended up here.”

I tried to shove past him, but it was enough that I couldn’t get around easily. Shit. And now, he had to mention all that. My breath caught, and tears formed in my eyes. Reine. And how my plans were always so flimsy. I was putting them all in danger, wasn’t I? But there wasn’t a better way. “It—it doesn’t matter what happens to me. As long as they can be safe. The Capitol will know it was all my idea. So, it’s all my fault. No one else’s if it fails. They have no idea what I’m planning.” At least that would be what I told the Capitol if I got caught.

He actually sounded concerned when he spoke again, softly. “Even if they know or believed it was entirely your plan and idea, do you really think that would protect the others from the Capitol? From the Shades?” He moved closer, as if to comfort me, but he stopped short. “These people are cruel, Pirate. Triel, the very nature of the Games meant almost none of you were supposed to live, do you really think they’d show mercy or sympathy over something so trivial as leaders and roles?”

Shit. I hated how my voice wavered and tears spilled from my eyes. He was right, damn it, he was right. “I’ll distract them long enough for the others to escape. I—I can.”

“You’d have to convince the others to actually leave you behind to do that, and if none of my others, trust these words when I say that would be neigh impossible in at least one case, if not more. And that’s not even minding the all encompassing guilt that a few of them might face at that very prospect of you being left behind. Survivor’s guilt is…very loud and strong. That can do things to a person, brings a very bleak darkness into the mind that runs wild. Even if everything else succeeded, they’d still be held captive and tormented by that thought of what if and should’ve.” He was staring at me, pinning me down. Shit. I felt so small.

So, I was useless. Just useless. But…but I had to try. It was better than doing nothing. I started sobbing, both out of frustration and hopelessness. “Then what the hell am I supposed to do? There’s no foolproof plan, so it’s better to decide to put it all on me than anyone else. I…I don’t have any other options.” I tried to push past him again, but it still didn’t work.

He raised an eyebrow. “Don’t you? Have you really exhausted every option, or are you trying to take the first visible route without waiting for a better opportunity? Of course, you have no reason to trust my words, and I doubt you would take my advice. But you must recognize that slipping away in the middle of the night, the Capitol or the Shades will hunt the lot of you, especially since they didn’t let you die the first opportunity they had with the Games. Do you want to be living constantly running, always looking back over your shoulder, do you want the others to be? Constantly worrying that something will force them back into Churi’s path again when he’s looking for them? Or do you want them to think you’re far beyond their reach already in a way they wouldn’t bother looking—and would probably upset them after all those lengths to get you. Like being dead, or making them think you are.”

I sniffled as the tears dried up. I actually had a plan for that. “I have a plan for that. We won’t be constantly running.” That anti-Capitol mansion was still there. And I had paid for it.

“Really? You continue to amaze me, little thief.” He smiled a little, but that dropped fast. “Yet can you be sure you won’t still be hunted? Even if you don’t have to be running, could you avoid the fear of being found out without being trapped? Because that would be most impressive indeed. Maybe you have thought of everything then?”

No, I didn’t. Everything I thought up was bad and junk, but was there any other option? Would the Capitol give me another chance like this? I had to do this. And he was still in my way. I sighed. “I’m not that perfect, but I don’t give a fuck.” I activated my magic, and the water from my tears crystallized into tiny daggers that pressed against his neck. “Get the hell out of my way.”

He cocked an eyebrow and smirked at me. Shit. “You know, I almost consider this flirting, though I will admit, it is a new form of knife this time. I will give you that.” He ran a hand over one so that he cut his finger on it. “So you kill me here, presuming you actually succeed in that, and you’re far from the first, guarantee you won’t be the last, you’ve met me after all, and what? You’ve made guesses as to my importance I’m sure, did you by chance notice Churi’s reaction earlier to me?” His finger was healing. What the fuck?

I couldn’t actually do it. No matter how much I wanted to. I deactivated my magic, only after I let one of them cut his neck shallowly. They fell down at our feet. I sat down on the bed. I just needed to get rid of him as quickly as possible. I smiled. “So, what were you wanting to do, then? Since you so obviously don’t want me to leave.”

He swiped over the cut, and it was healed right away. Shit. He looked back up and smirked at me. “As petty as that was, I appreciate the flair of it. And on the contrary, I am more than willing to leave with you, I just hoped you would avoid such a foolhardy plan with such risks when other plans are available, ones you're surely smart enough to find if you look.”

“And what if you’re wrong and there aren’t any other paths? The Capitol might not give another opportunity like this.”

“The Capitol will lay plenty a trap for you to try and escape so they can tighten their leash with an excuse, don’t worry.” He nodded towards the cameras, whose microphones I had disabled so they couldn’t hear what I said in my room. “Besides, have you even taken the time yet to understand what all your other captives are doing here with you yet? Maybe they have other paths available that you have yet to be able to consider. And of course, there’s me,” he turned more towards me and spread his arms. “Though I doubt you’d utilize that particular option at any point.”

I smiled more. “And why the hell would I? The only good you’ll be for me is a pretty face.” I sighed and sat back. “But if that’s all you’re here to tell me, you can go ahead and leave.”

“A miracle, clearly I’ve affected you to some extent to get you to admit I’m pretty. And why should I leave you when I know full well the danger you would be putting others in, and while I tend to thrive off of that, I wasn’t lying about my protective streak towards Reine, and yes maybe there is some selfishness in not wanting your Churi to get hands on one of the few things that could cause genuine pain towards me or her, she’s suffered enough and could use a break before she well, breaks. As have your friends from the looks of them when they arrived. Nesri’s leg and the headache of her being reckless while bedridden and exposing them is almost as tiresome as your own current plan. Though I suppose your clever friend and their gadgets do make up for it a bit, sharp minds are always so intriguing.” He tapped his chin and looked over at me.

I stiffened. Shine…Shine…They were…dead. How could he dare to talk about them? And it sounded like he probably knew where they were, so he could take them away or do something else to them. Shit. I sucked in a breath and stood up. “Don’t talk about…about Shine.” I swallowed hard as tears threatened to choke me again. “Fine. I won’t go anywhere. I won’t do anything stupid. You won.”

He looked over me. “You didn’t know. Which would explain why you’d more willingly go along with the other demands of the Capitol. The pieces seem to finally all fit now in that puzzle then, how cruel.”

What the shit was he talking about? I looked away from him, clenching my fists. “What? No gloating? I said you won.”

“Not yet, no. Nevertheless, it will do for now, and you should rest.”

Rest? I glared at him, and he nodded and left. Just like that. I looked away from the door as I started sobbing again. I was trapped. And I couldn’t see a way to help anyone else.

[destroy-the-cannon]

IT’S HERE!

Hey everyone! It’s finally happening. The long awaited Olivia x MC fit is happening. I’ll leave the rest of my thoughts as the bottom as not to bore you, but I’ll put one tiny thing here: there’s actually no Olivia in this chapter. I know, I know! She’s the whole reason you’re here. But I had to do a chapter without her to set up for something you’ll see in a future chapter. I promise, it’ll prove worth your wait. Anyways, without further ado, let’s get to it!

Tags: slow burn, enemies to lovers, queer romance, eventual lemon(s).

Warnings: Mentions of drinking, death, illness. Language. 

------------------------------------------------------------------------------ Paige couldn’t remember a time in her life when she wasn’t working towards something. She busted her ass all through highschool, working her way into a scholarship at a decent university. From there, she had concocted a simple, five-step plan:

-Graduate with honors

-Get into a fantastic business school

-Get an amazing, ultra-high paying job

-Pay off debt

-Buy a good house for her parents, and live out the rest of her life comfortably.

But no. Nearly a month after she graduated from college, her dad got diagnosed. As he spent more and more time in the hospital, the bills rolled in. Charge upon charge upon charge, until Paige’s mother had spent up their retirement funds and was looking into getting a second job. So, naturally, Paige stepped up. She got a job working at a tiny bar downtown, and sent her every spare dime to her family, rooming with strangers, because all her friends still lived back home in California.

And then, just as Paige thought her existence couldn’t get any bleaker, it did.

She was sent one final charge, then never any again.

After that, she threw herself into working extra hours at the bar, no longer having the energy to look into jobs anywhere else. For two years, she worked and slept, worked and slept. The only person she ever really talked to was Daniel, a friend who was good for cracking jokes and aimless chatter, but not ideal as emotional support. So, completely on her own, she did her best to heal. She cried till she couldn’t, screamed, cried some more, and did anything she could to try and lessen the complete suffocation that was her grief. Each day, she did whatever she could to wake up feeling a bit lighter, until she felt almost nothing at all. It took two years, but she was finally starting to feel like a person again.

That’s when she met three of the five people who were going to change her life forever.

That day, it was just the men who happened to be in the restaurant. This did make sense, because it was a bachelor party, after all. Not that that was easy to tell, just looking at them. Their clothes ranged from a simple denim-and-white-jeans look to a three piece suit, leather shoes, and a pocket square. Honestly, who still wore pocket squares? Paige shuddered just looking at it. It seemed that she was dealing with a typical group of douchey, overgrown frat boys. It would suck while she was serving them, but usually at least one of them would remember to leave a decent tip. She sighed and strode over, pulling out her pad.

“Hi, what can I-” She broke off for a tiny moment before resuming. “What can I get for you today?” Trying to cover her tracks, she flashed a bright smile.

The reason she had broken off was sitting there, watching her. He wasn’t dressed particularly flashily, in his garnet sweater and khakis, but he had an air of quiet importance about him, something almost noble. His posture was perfect, his hair done with not a strand out of place, a neatly shaved face, a perfectly straight and clean collar. It was the little things about him, things that one didn’t typically find in a crappy downtown bar, that made Paige even warier. He grinned a small, curious grin at her. Before she could respond, the man in the suit began to speak.

“So firstly, I’d like to ask about your wine. I’m assuming there’s a separate list?” Mr. Denim and a (quite cute, actually) guy in a black button down traded amused glances over Sir Suit’s shoulder.

“Sorry, we don’t. We have a good selection of beer an-” He cut her off with a horrified look. She’d never seen such a prim rage before; she had to stop herself from snorting.

“There’s nothing else? I’ve never even heard of some of these labels before! I’d think I’d like to speak to your mana-”

“Tariq.”

The sweatered man, the quiet one, lay a hand on Mr. Suit’s shoulder. His voice was warm, strong, and seemed to contain just a hint of some foreign accent that Paige couldn’t place. He smiled apologetically at her.

“That’s completely fine. We’ll take a bottle of your finest whiskey, and four glasses.”

“Great. Will you be having anything to eat with that?” She was making some strangely intense eye contact with The Sweater (she’d have to try and catch his name) when Tariq cut in obliviously. She was really starting to hate this guy.

“Yes, we’ll each take a filet mignon, medium rare, prepared with a bearnaise sauce.”

Paige blinked. The man smiled blandly at her as though this was a perfectly normal request.

“Sir, the closest thing we have to a filet mignon is the deluxe burger.”

Now it was Tariq’s turn to blanch in horror. “Burger?”

“Sounds great! We’ll take four.” Mr. Denim cut in, shooting a glare Tariq’s way.

“Right then. I’ll go put your order in, and I’ll be right back with that whiskey.”

She turned and made her way back to the kitchen, trying to fight back the smile that threatened to take over her face. Taking out Tariq, this seemed like a group of pretty decent guys. Usually, she expressed nothing more than a vague sort of interest in customers, a kind of unattached curiosity. But listening to them laughing and yelling, she couldn’t help but to want to pull up a chair and join them.

Sighing, she pulled out their glasses and whiskey. She was putting in their order when she felt eyes on her. Without moving, she peered out of the corner of her eye.

The three friends were talking, except for the quiet one. His eyes traced the curve of her neck, and her spine tingled with awareness of his every move. She arched her form just a bit, trying to be as subtle as she could, and his eyes slipped lower.

Just as she was about to turn, his friend elbowed him. She couldn’t make out what they were saying, but the quiet one smiled and turned his attention back to the group. She didn’t miss how his eyes fluttered back for just a half second, darkening, before he focused back in on the booth’s conversation.

She sighed, and grabbed the whiskey. Oh, well. This was going to be a boring night, but hopefully, in terms of tip, a fruitful one.

* * *

“Excuse me?”

Paige turned to find the sweatered man from before.

“I think we’re about to head out, and I didn’t want to do so without apologizing.”

The bar had emptied out completely, and the two were completely alone. Sweater’s friends were jostling around out front.

“Apologizing?” She frowned. “For what?”

“Well, I know we kept you late, and my friends can be pretty…” He paused. “Demanding.”

“Demanding, huh? Well, it was nothing I can’t handle. I’m used to it by now.”

“Well, be that as it may, I’d still like to apologize. We’re about to head out to a club right near here. Could I buy you a drink?”

“Which club are you going to?”

“Oh, well…” He winced. “We were actually hoping that you could help with that. We’re not from around here.”

“In that case, I know just where you should go.” She scanned him with a critical eye before making a decision. “You don’t seem like the kind of guy that would particularly enjoy some wild party spot. There’s a great little secret cove right near here you might like.”

He grinned in relief. “That sounds amazing. I’m getting just a bit tired of the traditional bachelor party antics. Why don’t you lead the way?”

“Sure, that sounds awesome! Let me just get out of this uniform, and we can get going.” She turned to go, then stopped short. “Before we go, can I get your name? I’m Paige.”

She turned to offer her hand, expecting a firm shake. To her surprise, he leaned down and actually kissed her knuckles. An honest to god bow-and-kiss. As soon as he’d done it, his eyes widened in embarrassment before shrinking into a wince. “Sorry, that’s an, ah, custom. Where I come from. It’s tradition. I just- just forgot you don’t do it here. I’m Liam.” He was clearly quite mortified, but Paige smiled. She thought it cute, and made her feel oddly regal. There was something so gentle in the gesture, it was almost reverent. Sweet. Grinning, Paige ducked back into the backroom, changing into an emerald-green dress she kept in her bag. She paused for a moment to check her reflection, fluffing out her hair and dress. Confident, she followed Liam into the night air.

As soon as she stepped out, the first thing she heard was: “Daaang! The waitress is hot!”, quickly followed by a more earnest: “That uniform didn’t do you justice.” Before she could respond, Liam stepped forward.

“Hey. Paige is a guest among us, and I doubt she appreciates you commenting on her appearance like that.”

If he didn’t before, he now had her full trust.

She was pretty used to receiving comments like that by now, and it didn’t particularly bother her. At least these guys didn’t seem to have any cruel intent. She got much worse in clubs or on the street. But it was rare to see another man stick up for her like that. Liam barely even knew her, and yet he was ready to call out his friends for her. Instantly, she found she liked him even more.

The guys stuck their head down and muttered apologies. They seemed sincere enough, and clearly eager to earn a fresh start, so Paige let it go.

“So, the waitress is coming with us?” Mr. Denim piped up, looking Paige over.

“Actually, we’re going with her. She’s picked out our next destination.”

“So she’s our tour guide now.” Denim raised his brow. He didn’t seem malicious, per se, just skeptical.

“Hey, Paige very graciously agreed to show us around, so play nice.” Liam turned to her. “Lead the way!”

“I’d love to, but can I get the rest of you guys’ names first? I can’t be referring to you three as ‘you there’ this whole night.”

“I’m Maxwell! Maxwell Beaumont.” Button Down grinned and shook her hand enthusiastically.

“I’m Drake Walker.” Denim stepped forward and also shook her hand, though much less enthusiastically.

“Great. And you’re Tariq, right?” She pointed at the third man, who was smiling at her in a way that did actually make her just a tad uncomfortable. He nodded, his smile growing.

“Awesome. Let’s get going!” She spun around, and they followed her into the night.

   * * *

They emerged from a small swath of greenery into a beautiful little cove. The starlight shone on the ocean, and the whole place seemed mysterious and magical. Like anything could happen.

“We should build a bonfire!” Drake looked happier than he’d been all night.

“I am will not be engaging in manual labor.” Tariq looked like he was about to throw up.

“I forgot who I was talking to. What I meant was, I’m going to go build a bonfire.” He practically skipped off. Paige could’ve sworn she heard a giggle. The men turned to take in their surroundings.

“This place is awesome! Skinny dippiiiiiing!”

“Keep your pants on, Maxwell.”

Liam turned to Paige as the other two bickered. “Thank you for taking us here, Paige. I can tell the guys are enjoying themselves already.”

“Forget your friends. Do you like it here?”

“I love it.” He was completely sincere.

“This is my secret spot, so I’m really trusting you here.” She was teasing, but he looked her directly in the eye as he responded. “I will do everything I can to be worthy of that trust.”

There was a moment there, where he held her gaze. But he looked away and turned his eyes to the sky as he spoke.

“There’s only one problem. How am I supposed to buy you that drink now?” He’d made his tone light as meringue, but there was a tiny crease between his brows.

“I don’t know. Maybe you’ll just keep owing me.”

“Seems fair enough to me.” They stood together for a second, until Drake called out.

“Guys! The fire’s ready!”

He beamed as he motioned for them to sit. His proud beam suddenly reminded Paige of a particularly peppy golden retriever. She stifled a giggle as she tucked her feet under her.

“Hey, can I ask you guys something?” She had grabbed one of the  beers Drake had insisted they get from a convenience store on the way. She sipped from the bottle, trying to appear casual. Maxwell looked up from one of the pop-tarts he had picked up. “What’s up?”

“Well, what’s up with you guys? What’s your deal?”

As soon as she asked the question, the atmosphere shifted noticeably. The air grew thick with tension. The boys traded nervous glances, each one visibly uncomfortable. Finally, Liam spoke.

“Guys, it’s fine. She deserves to know.”

“Are you sure?” Drake’s puppy-like grin had vanished, replaced with a look of guarded skepticism.

“Positive.” Liam nodded, and they all turned to her.

“Okay. Paige, there’s something you should know about us.”

“Alright…” It suddenly occurred to her that she was on a remote island with four strange men who were now all staring at her, and why did she think this was a good idea? She tried to tamp down her growing panic.

“As you know, we’re not from here. But where we are from, specifically, is... Cordonia.”

“Okay. And this is a secret why, exactly?”

Liam shifted again. Clearly, there was more.

“Well, we’re not just tourists. I mean, we’re not really, ah, average citizens.”

Hm. Well, that wasn’t too surprising. Liam’s controlled manner, the way Maxwell kept looking over his shoulder, Tariq’s pocket square. But what, exactly, did this all mean? They were either spies, mega rich, or criminals. She waited for them to go on.

“What I mean by that is… well, we may have left some things out in our introduction. Drake really is Drake Walker, but the rest of us are different.”

Maxwell piped up. “I’m Sir Maxwell Percival Beaumont. Of Ramsford.”

“I am Lord Tariq Nadar, of Larada.” He bowed and leered at Paige in a way that caused her stomach to lurch suddenly.

“And I am Prince Liam Cicero Constantine Rhys, prince of Cordonia.”

Prince of Cordonia. The way he kissed her hand. The way the other men seemed so keenly aware of his every command. His cordial behavior. She had been flirting with a prince. An heir, she guessed.

But, if he was an heir, then that could mean-

Oh, God.

“Whose bachelor party is this?”

To her horror, Liam raised his hand tentatively.

“It’s mine.”

Shit! Ew, ew, ew. Her opinion of him dropped right down to the ground. Of course he was fucking engaged. He had been flirting with her, checking her out, and he was engaged! Fuck that, fuck him. She hadn’t even been that into him, so any disappointment she may have felt was swallowed by anger and disgust. She was almost ready to leave when he jumped in, probably sensing her rage.

“I’m not engaged. I mean, I will be, but I don’t actually have a fiancé yet.”

Oh. She lowered herself back onto the log, smoothing her pinched features.

“But wait. That doesn’t make any sense. Why have a bachelor party if you’re not even engaged yet?”

“That’s what you're concerned about? Not the nobility thing? I mean, I would- ow! Drake!” Drake elbowed Maxwell into silence before turning to Paige to explain.

“Liam’s at the age where it’s finally time to pick a future queen. The social season begins the day after tomorrow, and by the end of it, Liam’s gonna have a bride. They try to win the favor of the king and queen, catch Liam’s eye, demonstrate their queenly abilities through a series of competitions, blah blah blah. We’re throwing a bachelor party now because the next one’ll basically just be a press event with a bunch of nobles he barely knows.”

“Oh.” It was all she could manage to say. What the hell was she supposed to say? This was a huge bomb to just drop on her casually.

“I hope you don’t think we’re trying to fool you. If that is the case, it’s completely understandable-”

“I believe you.” Oddly enough, she knew they weren’t lying. Somehow, in her bones, she just knew. These were genuine nobles, ones she’d just happened to somehow convince to spend the night out together. Her, the broke, tired waitress. Intellectually, she knew this was an absolutely wild and preposterous thing she was doing, but emotionally, that just wouldn’t register. This felt right, like an evening out with three old friends and one Tariq.

But then again, this was different for them. They weren’t used to spending time with people like her. She was suddenly keenly aware of her own casual behavior, how she’d treated them like any old group of people. They weren’t. She started to gather up her things, fussing with her bag. She should leave them. Why would they want to spend time with someone like her?

“Does this mean I should have been curtseying? Bowing? Using your proper titles?”

“Well, personally, I wouldn’t have minded if you had-”

“Shut up, Tariq.” Maxwell twisted towards her. “This night has turned out to be awesome. You’ve turned out to be pretty awesome. And it doesn’t have to end! Let’s stay out! Just keep thinking of us as regular tourists. Don’t go.”

“I-” She stopped. “Okay. I’m staying.”

Her answer seemed to have surprised her as much as it did them. But she meant it, truly. She was having fun, and as weird as this night had turned out to be, she felt like she had made friends. Real friends, not work ones. This night would become a cool story she told at parties, and these people would become ones she’d wonder about and obsessively google for years to come, she was sure. So she didn’t leave. She sat with them, and it was one of the best nights she’d spent in a very long time.

* * *

“Paige! Wait up!” Paige turned to find Maxwell running after her. Her face split into a surprised grin. “Maxwell! What are you doing here?” He bounded up with a bright look about him. “I’m here for you! The plane leaves in like half an hour, and I wanted to catch you before we left.”

It was the morning after the bachelor party, and Paige was trudging to work. The sidewalk was choked with people rushing from place to place, and Maxwell was struggling to hold his ground.

“And why did you need to catch me, exactly?” Surely, from the beam on his face, he wasn’t just delivering a lost earring? Hope started to tickle at her insides, though what it was for, she had no idea.

“I wanted to make an offer. Obviously, it’s totally cool if you want to say no, and there’s no pressure or anything, but I had to ask.”

“Okay…” What was he doing?

“Come with us.” Her expression must’ve been absolutely shocked, and he hurried on upon seeing it.

“Liam looked really happy last night. Like, uncharacteristically happy and smiley. And you seem really cool, so I got to thinking. You could come with us. You’d be sponsored by House Beaumont, and you’d have a real shot at it! It wouldn’t be easy, since you’re not technically nobility, and House Beaumont is kind of-” he stopped himself. “Um, I mean, it would be hard. Is what I’m saying. But cool! Fun! Are you in?”

“Sorry, what is ‘it’, exactly?”

“Oh, yeah, shoot. Liam’s hand in marriage!”

Liam’s hand. In marriage. The sidewalk seemed to spin. She liked Liam just fine, but marriage? There was no way. She knew it, deep down in her soul. She wasn’t going to marry him, and she never would.

She glanced back over her shoulder, back at the bar. The whole place seemed grubby and hollow. Daniel was wiping away at the counter, a faraway expression on his face. He was dreaming of an out. They had dreamed of that out together, on mornings like this.

Paige pictured elegant palaces, glamorous parties, beautiful people. She imagined dancing the night away, drunk on champagne and laughter. She imagined stolen corridor kisses and secret rendezvous in lavish gardens.

She turned back to Maxwell.

“I’ll meet you back here in twenty minutes. I’ve got some packing to do.”

Son that was the first chapter! It’s out a bit later than I’d like, but it’s out! Sorry again about the Olivia thing. I promise, she’ll be a key character in chapter two. 

I’m really new to publishing my stuff, so if you have any tips or suggestions, please let me know! 

[raz-b-rose]

The Secrets we Share

Part one

This is the second and (for now) final part to this AU. 

11527 words. Enjoy

https://archiveofourown.org/works/21737908/chapters/56487616#workskin

___________________________________________________________

Marinette pulls back from the kiss first, gazing lovingly at Damian. “I love you, sorry again for overreacting” 

“We both have weaknesses, but we have all the time to help each other” Damian kisses her forehead, taking her bag to her room. Marinette only hums in response. 

Marinette couldn't believe the changes in her life in just one week. Master Fu had passed, she was the new supreme Guardian; her parents were proud of her, and she hoped her mother understood when she told them about the wedding. She was raised within the temple's traditions after all, but she had also raised her to carve her own path despite Fu’s desire to raise her as the next supreme. 

Marinette froze for a moment, watching Damian move around her apartment with ease, grinning wildly at the thought of this becoming her everyday life. Her and Damian together, best friends and partners. Partners. Marinette focusses on that word. She thinks about her days as a vigilante. It had been two years since she had last transformed with Tiki, since she had last doned the monacer of Ladybug and assisted others. She feels something bubble up in her chest that almost matches the excitement of her future with Damian. She could become ladybug once again. 

Damina glances behind him to Marinette relaxing to the sight of her smile. She was his retreat from everything crazy and stressful in his life. No matter what happens in the field or on missions, he would always have her to return to. Her smile, her joy, and her kindness will always be there for him. 

“Hey Chéri, I should let you know that we have just one more thing in common” Marinette is still grinning wildly, coming forward to join their hand together. 

“What is that Habibti?” Damian finds himself caught up in her excitement. 

“I used to be a vigilante as well, and I had to quit when I moved here for school, didn’t want to step on any toes, but now I can help again, this is wonderful” 

Damian stiffins, varying images of all the terrible things that could happen to Marinette flying though his mind before settling on Barbra in a wheelchair. His grip tightens his breathing labored. 

“Marinette I-” She simply cups his face, eyes shining in understanding. 

“Because Tikki is effectively immortal, that trait is shared with me when I am transformed with her. There is nothing to worry about.”

“Tikki?” As if responding to the name, the same small red fairy-like creature flies up to his face, almost causing him to go cross eyed. 

“There is nothing to worry about Damian. If anything, Marinette would be better protected than you.”

“How does that work?” Marinette had moved them back to the couch, continuing to smile as though Damian was not in the middle of a panic attack thinking about how she could die horribly. He would love to have her beside him at all times, but maybe not all the time. 

Tikki only grins at him. Damian looks to Marinette to see the grin reflected on her face. They did not see the issue here. Marinette could not be in the field. She must have done community service or something. There is no way his Habibti fought crime as a teenager, right? 

“Because I am immortal, unless something were to happen to my earrings, which would be very challenging to manage mind you, when I share my powers with another that trait is shared with them as well.” 

Damian is still struggling to grasp the calming logic of her statements. “Even if she can’t die she could still be seriously hurt '' Damian doesn't want to be overprotective, but he's going to be overprotective. 

Tikki only shakes her head, the movement soft. “I absorb any damage she takes, for life threatening injuries however, i can only absorb so much,” Damian stops breathing all together, “so she would be left with anything from a bruise to a laceration.”

“Nothing a first aid kit can’t handle.” Marinette appears at his side, handing him a mug of tea. When had she moved and made tea?

“But you could still be-” He starts to argue, but Marinette's change in tone causes him pause to hear her out. 

“Damian, I have been shot on three different occasions, here, here, and here.” She points to her hip, head and finally her heart. Damian followed each movement of her finger with fascinated horror. “I was only left with a bruise for each of them, I will be ok.”

They have a stare off for what feels like hours, Damian can see another creature join the huddle on the couch, but keeps his focus on Marinette. Her eyes aren’t hard, instead they are understanding but she won't back down from this. “I also have healing magic, for the next time you get hurt”

“I don’t get hurt” Damian tries to say with an air of pride, but even to his ears he can hear the weakness of the lie. 

“Yes you do, mister I got shot and didn’t say anything” Marinette gives him a pointed look, before giggling at Damian's crestfallen face. 

“How did you know?”

“Oh please, I have been training with magic since I could walk, specifically that healing magic” She says with a wave of her hand. He closes his eyes, taking multiple deep breaths. 

What are the facts of the situation he has control over? Marinette knows magic. Marinette can bond with an immortal being effectively making her immortal while bonded. Marinette has been shot before. Marinette is here. Marinette had been a vigilante. Marinette had been a good vigilante. Nobody as far as he knew had heard of any such thing from Paris. Marinette is going to be his partner in everything. Everything. Damian opens his eyes to her sky blue ones, relaxing once again into their depths. 

“Ok, but we start slow, I need time to adjust.” She just smiles softly at him, rubbing her hand along his shoulder. 

“Of course Chéri, it's only fair,” Damian relaxes some more, thankful at her cooperation. “You don't know how amazing I am as a vigilante yet” Damian scowls at her, eyes darkening in that competitive way they always do when Marinette goads him on. 

“Is that so” He grins wickedly, carefully placing both of their cups on the coffee table. She eyes him with excited trepidation, waiting for Damian to strike. He glances behind her, tilting his head in confusion, and strikes when she also starts to turn back. 

“Are you as good as you say if you fall for such an easy trick?” He teases while he tickles her, proud at the belly laughs he is eliciting from her. 

“Stop Dami, stop” She squeals, trying desperately to put distance between them, her breaths short and joy filled. 

“I dont think I’m ready to” 

“Dami!” She laughs out, soft pawing at his face, tears of joy mixing with the tear tracks from earlier. With that Final plea, he stops kissing her quickly and gently. He doesn’t need her passing out from lack of oxygen after all. She simply pulls him down into a cuddle, humming contently. Pulling each other close, their warmth mixes together, making for a comfortable nap inducing environment, but both know they can’t take a nap, not yet after all. 

Damian glances over to see Tikki and the other one, sitting cheerfully on the window sill, observing the city streets below. 

“What,” Damian starts to ask Marinette then thinks better of it, after all they were clearly sentient beings capable of holding a conversation. 

“What exactly are you?” He sits up, facing each of the small beings. They glance between each other before coming over to sit on the coffee table. 

“We are called kwami, but to be exact we are the personification of certain ideals or desires.” The small horse looking one answers, licking away at a sugar cube. 

Damian glances to Marinette for clarification. They did answer his question but it left him blind to certain details that Marinette is sure to have. However Tikki is the one to answer his unasked inquiry. 

“We should start at the beginning, as we do with all newcomers to the Order,” Tikki sends a pointed look to Kaalki, who just rolls her eyes before focusing on her meal. 

“There was a woman named Tikki who lived in China during the Xia dynasty. She learned of magic through travelers and taught herself the most powerful form of magic at the time, creation magic. She loved to create new things, especially things to help others.”

“While she was traveling her older sister fell ill to what was an incurable disease at the time.” Marinette laughs softly into her hand as Damian leans forward, grasping his hands in front of his face in total concentration on Tikki’s history lesson. 

“She quickly switched her focus to healing magic, desperate to save her sister's life. During her quest she experimented with imbedding jewelry with healing effects to stop or even just slow the effects of the sickness.”

Tikki leaves the coffee table to continue her story next to Marinette's earrings, touching them softly. “Because of her love to create, her love for her sister, and her desire to heal I was brought into consciousness, a part of her soul, so to speak, being imbedded into the earrings.” 

“I became everything she desired and held dear. I can create as well as heal and was the first miraculous created.” 

“Do you share her memories?” 

“No, I am simply a personification of her will.”

“Is that why you are immortal, you are neither alive or dead?” Marinette is impressed that Damian was able to grasp that truth so quickly. 

“Exactly.” 

“What happened after?” He is not so much as eager to learn what happened, but rather gain the knowledge necessary to join this world of Marinettes. 

“She returned home just as the sickness was taking its final hold, we worked together to heal her, becoming Hóng fūrén.”

“Did she create the rest of the miraculous?”

“No,” Kaalki answers him this time, having finished her sugar cube she settles in on Marinette's other shoulder. “When other magicians learned of what she created, they traveled to her, eager to learn her secrets.”

“The first was a man by the name of Plagg, who had lost a loved one to the same sickness that almost took Tikki’s sister. He had heard of her miracle and hoped that she could return his loved one to him.”

“I hear a but in there,”

“Bringing people back from the dead will always have consequences, as you know” Tikki says gravely, her stare is filled both with pity and resentment. He doesn’t think that the last one is aimed at him however. Marinette stiffins. 

“Damian-”

“We can talk about that later,” She doesn’t look reassured, but nods in acceptance, “Thank you, please continue” Damian reaches up to rub his chest where the sword pierced. There was no scar, but the memory of the pain was enough for Damian.

“Even though they could not help him in his original request, he still desired to learn her new way of magic as well. He then created the ring of destruction, his desire to rid the world of the illness being his main driving force.”

“Each of the Miraculous were created by different magicians and added to the collection. Tikki and Plagg went on to be the founders of the order, seeking to use their magic to help everyone around them.”

“What caused them to hide from the world?”

“A traitor by the name of Jin Yong. He had been unsuccessful in creating anything, much less a Miraculous. He attempted to steal all of them for himself, and killed Plagg in the process.” Marinette always hated this part of the story. 

“By this time Tikki and Plagg had married, and started a family. In her rage, she wielded both the creation and destruction Miraculous. Jin yong was quickly dealt with but her rage still needed an outlet.”

“She unleashed such raw magical power, that she carved up the nearby mountain range. The other magicians feared her, quick to submit themselves to her, and follow any order she had to give. She then declared that from thereforth, all Miraculous would be kept in a box, and named herself as Supreme Guardian, who is the only person capable of opening the box.”

"She then traveled as far west as she could before stopping in what is now Tibet. There she built the temple and erased all traces of the miraculous from the world.”

Marinette plays with her fingers, small tears gathering. Damian rubs small circles in her back, quietly processing what he just heard. That much raw power in the wrong hands could be disastrous. 

“Marinette, is announcing the Order to the world the wisest idea?” He was trying to be gentle, but the idea of being incapable of fighting against such a threat scared him. 

“Yes, Supreme Guardian Tikki also placed a spell over all the miraculous. As long as I know who holds the Miraculous I can order it back to the box. Stealing one is difficult but not impossible. It has happened before.” 

“Damian,” Kaalki draws his attention away, “ Not every Miraculous can manage that kind of power. Not every person can handle that kind of power. Tikki only could because she had created the Miraculous, her bonding with it being much more intimate than can be managed today.” 

Damian frowns in confusion, “So how does this whole bonding thing work anyway?” 

Marinette seems to brighten a little, quick to answer him, “The longer you wear a miraculous the stronger the shared magic between Kwami and human become. You also have to physically fit, spiritually sound and mentally strong to even transform with a Kwami. Anyone can wear a miraculous, but not everyone can wield one.” 

“That makes me feel a little better.”

She giggles softly, sipping her tea softly. Tikki and Kaalki had moved from her shoulders now sitting softly in her lap. Marinette seems to be working herself up to say something, so he waits patiently for her to collect herself. 

“We have had this power that could be shared with the world for centuries, just sitting there in cowardice for what may or may not happen. When Plagg first convinced me to transform with him and take a run on the roof tops, and I stopped a mugging, I knew what I would do with the Order should I end up leading it. I would build a team to help the world.” 

She gives Damian a hard stare, “I will help those who need it.” He can’t help but smile at her and berate himself even further. Her heart is too good, kind, and compassionate. 

“You will accomplish all those things Marinette. I will help you any way I can.” 

“I know. Thank you Damian” Marinette feels a peace within her soul. The Order could look down on a Supreme being in a relationship all they want. She would not be as strong without Damian at her side. 

“So why have I never heard of vigilantes in Paris?” Marinette at least has the gall to look embarrassed. 

“As a part of my training, I would bond with a different miraculous every two weeks. When Plagg talked me into transforming and testing my powers in Paris, instead of at the temple, I loved the rush from pouncing on people and surprising them. Because I had a new look every few weeks, no one ever made the connection.”

“And then she had to start getting her friends in on it too,” Tikki chimes in in exasperation. “It was hard enough keeping her nightly adventures a secret, but adding more people to the mix every few months was getting challenging.” 

“And yet I built myself a good team” Marinette huffs. They went on to bicker about Marinette's youth. Damian can’t help but dread that this would also now be a part of his new life. Kwami everywhere all the time. It would definitely take some adjusting. Damian frowns at his now vibrating phone, the caller ID confusing him even more. Standing he distances himself from the others, not wanting to disturb them with his call. 

“What is it Brown?” She only ever called him when there was a daytime emergency. 

“Damian you need to talk to Tim, this isn't ok.” 

“I don't need to do anything you say” Damian feels his good mood souring quickly. 

“No, Tim is a wreck. You haven't talked to anyone for days.”

“Who I choose to speak to is none of your concern.” Stephanie tries to interrupt him but Damian speaks over her, “I am not responsible for how Drake is feeling”

“You men and hating to talk things out” She snaps, Damian only rolls his eyes, after all just what had he and Marinette been doing for the last hour? 

“There is nothing for us to talk about. He has apologized but the fact of the matter is he doesn't trust me, therefore there is no reason to speak until that is repaired first” Damian clenches his fist at admitting such a thing to Stephanie of all people. 

“Of course he trusts you Damian,” 

“If he truly trusted me, then this would not have happened” The silence on the other end is unsettling, Damian can only stand there, waiting for her to say something, but he knows she can’t find a way to refute his claim. “I believe you have no right to speak to me about such matters as well Brown, last I heard you weren’t even on speaking terms with Drake yourself”

“That was a low blow Damian” She growls out before cursing him out and hanging up. Damian trembles, Stephanie reigniting his original anger from the last week. He jumps a little, meeting Marinette's worried gaze. 

“Damian?” 

“It’s nothing, just Drakes, whatever she is right now, meddling with something she has no right to.” Marinette retakes her seat on the couch. They had talked about themselves, but not how he felt with his family. Clearly it was still unresolved and had led to a lot of stress for all parties. 

“Does Tim do things like this often?” She asks so quietly, that Damian almost missed her question, the roaring in his ears grew louder. 

“Do what?”

“Investigate people?”

“It is his prefered job. He investigates to find all the information so that we don’t have any blank spots.” 

“Then why was his investigation of me bothering you so much? He does it to other people so why can’t he do it to me?” He can tell she is playing devil's advocate, but the question still bothers him. He can feel his anger growing stronger.

“I asked him, and Todd, not to. To meet you like normal people.” She hums, nodding her head slightly in agreement. 

“That request does change everything. And why does that feel like a breach of trust to you?” Damian tightens his fists, a headache coming on from his tightened jaw. Marinette runs her thumb over the back of his hand, that's when he notices her breathing steadily. In, out. In, out. Damian starts to match her pace, his body loosening with each exhale.

“They question every choice I make. Always acting like I’m in danger. However only when I make ‘life changing decisions’” Damian states dryly, “any other time they behave as though they do not care for me.” Marinette only nods, he can tell by the look in her eye that she is processing the information, tucking it away. 

“I know I can be uncommunicative and impersonal at times,” Marinette offers a small smile, “but I thought that I had made headway in building better relationships with my brothers. Don’t tell them this but I do care for them and have come to enjoy their company” 

“This sounds like normal sibling drama then.” Marinette smiles, “No need to be angry. Tim and Jason care too, in their own way. They need to find a different way to show it though, you too mister” She runs her finger down his nose before pecking it quickly.

“I don’t know how to approach them at the moment, but I don’t want to lose them either” Damian confides in her, knowing his vulnerability is safe with her. 

“It doesn’t need to be today Damian, a lot has happened already.” She stands pulling him with her. “But it needs to be soon. It becomes harder the longer you wait.”

“I will Habibti, don’t worry. Thank you.”

“You can talk about anything at any time Damian.” She smiles softly one last time before leading them towards the door. “I am hungry, and i think food would help both of us right now” 

They enjoyed a peaceful meal, phones set on silent, just the two of them ignoring the outside world of responsibilities until a later time. Damian asked more questions, Marinette asked her own in return. The couple shared everything they hadn't before, finding solace in the fact that they truly understood the others' struggles like no one else could. 

The late afternoon sun offered a cozy setting as they returned to Marinette's place, the Kwami glad to be home for free reign once again. And the two of them did what they did best. Separate activities in the same room. 

Marinette returned to her dress, as it was still due for completion that week. Family emergency or not, fashion projects are to be completed. Damian returned to his book, quickly reimmersed in it, but even that couldn't hold off the exhaustion that builds when emotional stress is in play. Damian is stirred from sleep, Marinette giggling at him.

“Hey sleepy head, I think you need to go home to get some proper rest” She places a marker in his book, before walking away. Damian lays there for a few moments adjusting to consciousness. He sits up a little too quickly when he notices the time. He is late for patrol. 

He jumped off the couch, pulling his jacket on in a panic, cursing softly as he gathered the rest of his things. Maeinette wonders over, concerned. 

“Is everything ok? Did something happen?”

“No, nothing like that. I am just late for patrol” Damian pecks her cheek but the touch of her hand stops him at the door. 

“Is that a good idea? You seem really tired.” He kisses her once more, less rushed this time.

“I will be ok. I’ll see you tomorrow, promise” Marinette hugs him tightly before finally letting him leave. She stands at the door for a moment, before turning back to her dress. Damian would be ok, she could feel it. Her gut was almost never wrong anymore, Marinette frowns at her embroidery, almost. 

Tonight was not a good night. Damian scowls into the streets below. The coms were unusually silent. When he had signed onto the comms everyone gave him short crisp answers. His father, he could understand, but Todd and Drake refused to talk to him, and after the fuss Stephanie made, he expected Drake to be grovelling once again. 

“Boys, we got trouble down by the docks, looks like Penguin is making a move.” Oracle informs. Each gave a confirmation before launching to the docks. Damian moved quickly, the thought of Marinette waiting for him at the forefront of his mind more than ever. 

“Robin and Red Hood, come in from the north. Red Robin and I will come in from the west.” Batman orders before going silent once again. Damian is almost to the docks when Red Hood comes up on his right, their paths converging into one. 

“Robin, she got back today right? Did everything go alright?” Damian is caught off guard by his question and almost missteps off the roof. He opens his mouth to respond like he always had when they try to pry, but Marinette's words from that afternoon cause him pause. He needs to find a different way to show that he does care for his brothers. What better way to start then being more open about his life. 

“It went well.” 

Now it was Jason's turn to be surprised. Damian was not one to willingly give information on his personal life. It took poking and prodding with the figurative crowbar to even get him to open his mouth, and even that didn’t always guarantee you'll get what you wanted out of him. 

“That's good to hear.” He could practically feel the tension drain from the coms, Babs mutters a small praise and he winces. He knew they could feel the tension, he felt bad that Babs could as well. “Sorry Oracle”

“Refocus, now that that is out of the way, and then you can talk more.” 

“Yes Ma’am” 

Damian scowls as the distant sound of sirens grows louder. Just what they didn’t need. “Red Robin and I have converged on the smugglers. Some are trying to escape your way, be ready.” 

The boys move faster to intercept before the police arrive. Damian swings down, landing harder than intended on the pavement, bringing five men to an abrupt stop. They are all dressed in beanies and black clothes. A few have traditional guns while the others have spearguns guns.

“Evening boys, would you mind dropping the weapons and surrendering peacefully?” Red Hood saunters in from the rear, catching all the cornered men off guard. With a grunt, they all start to pull their guns. 

Without further words, the boys attack first, subduing the ones with the spearguns first, fearing the nasty wound that could leave more than that of a regular gun. After all, they have dealt with those before. One of the men, after losing his gun, tried to fare in hand to hand combat, Damian simply tripped him, knocking him out cold with an elbow to the throat. Damian turns around to find himself at the end of a gun, and no time to move. 

Red Hood bashes the man in the back of the head with his gun, simply nodding at Damian, who could only sigh in relief. It wasn’t the first time he had been in that sort of situation since meeting Marinette, where all he could think about was how upset and angry she would be to learn how he died. Now that she knew, he wondered if she would be angrier or just heartbroken. 

Red Hood walks over, clapping him firmly on the shoulder. “Not yet Robin, you have plenty of time ahead of you.” Damian glances at him with narrowed eyes, he can feel his mask constrict with the movement. How had he managed to glare 24/7 when he was younger? 

They boys turn at the sound of their family landing behind them. Red Robin fidgets next to the bat, their difference in height would have made it comical if not for the seriousness of the situation. Damian simply nods to him, sending a small smile his way. That was more than enough to show the young man that the blood between them had been cleared. He relaxed immediately, offering his own smirk in return. 

Bruce watched the interaction, glad that the boys had made up in their own way, but couldn’t help the roll of his eyes at the dramatics of it all. But it's your fault that they are terrible at these things his subconscious whispers to him. Bruce scowled at the intrusive thought, his pride making it difficult to admit fault. 

“The police have already started inventory on the unit of drugs they were trying to move into the city. Pick up will be here shortly, Robin come with me to oversee processing of evidence.” Both men set off, Father and Son into the night. 

Batman turns off his comm unit, motioning for Robin to do the same. While Damian’s relationship with Bruce hasn't always been the smoothest, they have both tried. Damian tried to be everything he valued in his Father, and Bruce tried to emulate the things Damian thought of as important. Unfortunately for both of them, that did not include expressing emotions or confrontation into personal issues as priority. 

“I look forward to meeting her.” Damian rolls his eyes at the attempt for normal father son bonding conversations. They had never been Bruce's forte, but he refused to cease the attempts. “She must be a wonderful woman.”

“Wonderful because she caught my attention?” 

“Wonderful because she brings out the best in you.” Bruce smiles, knowing Damian was testing his responses. He may not be the best at conventional relationships, but he picked up a thing or two from Alfred over the years. 

Damian is caught off guard at the response. “The best in me?”

“She must have said something today or performed an action in the past to influence your earlier behavior with your brothers” Damian thinks over his words, realizing the truth within the statement. He grins before voicing his next thought. 

“If she has held such an influence over me for so long, you must be slacking in your abilities, old man” Bruce simply raises his brow, a trade mark look if anyone who knows Batman were to give him one. 

“Maybe” And with that the conversation comes to an end for now, as he turns the comms back on, meeting the commissioner behind the taped off scene. Robin shadows Batman, a working system for the last few years now. Damian however is processing the day while observing the hustle and bustle of the crime scene. Once everything is settled and they are retiring for the night at the cave, suits locked up and equipment put away, Damian sends a small wave to his family before heading back to the city. 

His brain battles with itself before he finally crashes onto his bed, sleep over taking him. The night was a normal one, with the regular adrenaline. No matter how hard he tried to rethink about his afternoon, his body needed to rejuvenate itself. Thinking could wait, recharge could not. 

It is well past twelve when he finally awakens, a small headache at the front of his head. He checks his phone to find a text from Bruce, asking if they would be coming to dinner at the Manor. It was Dicks last night in town before returning to Jump City. 

Damian ended up staring at his phone for over five minutes. Finally he placed a call, hoping she was available. He chuckles as she picks up the phone, her frantic yelps coming over the line.

“Damian finally! Are you ok?”

“Yes Marinette, I am fine.” He laughs.

“Thank goodness, what's up?”

“Would you be available for dinner at the manor tonight?”

“Of course! What time?”

“I’ll pick you up at three-thirty. We usually eat around four.”

“Perfect, I’ll see you soon! Love you!” Before she hangs up he hears her call for Tikki, claiming a need for her opinion on outfits. Laughing one last time, he responds to his father's text before rising to get ready. 

Now that things were mostly patched with Tim and Jason, dinner wasn’t looking to be an uncomfortable affair. He was however still apprehensive to introduce her to his family. But, if she could handle his past confessions, then she could probably handle his family just fine. If she could handle leading a whole organization at twenty-two, she could handle his family. 

After a quick walk for Titus, and running a quick errand, it was finally time to pick up Marinette. As he approaches her building once more, she waits on the sidewalk, eyes peeled for his car. Her face lights up as she spots him, her hair cascading gently around her face, framing her freckles and eyes perfectly. 

“Hey there handsome, did you have a good night?” With the click of her seat belt, Damian returns to the line of cars eager to leave the city.  

“We managed to intercept a shipment of new drugs Penguin was trying to introduce to the city. Not a standard night but not a new scenario” Damian shrugs, not finding it as weird to talk casually about his nightly activities as he thought it would be.

Marinette nods, giving him a weak smile, “That is relieving to hear, I was worried for you”

“I assume that is going to be a standard for us now” Damian scowls, thinking once again about all the horrible what-ifs and undesirable futures. 

“Yes but i feel like it's not that different from other couples” Marinette reaches over to take his hand, Damian notices she's trembling slightly, but decides not to bring attention to it. 

“What do you mean? I believe we are in a unique situation.”

“ Well what about Military, Officers, or any other profession that has a life threatening aspect to it? Any couple apart of those lives worry for safety and health just as much as we are now”

“That is a very true point, however I maintain our uniqueness with that not every couple fights crime as vigilantes together” Damain gives her a quick pointed look before returning his focus to the road. 

“And the average couple can be affected by unexpected injuries or death as well,” Marinette continues as though Damian hadn’t spoken, staring out the window as the grey and muted red buildings turn to a forest of green with the ocean peaking through, “No we are not the different after all” 

Damian doesn't respond for a moment, his mind focussing between her trembling hand, to her hyperfocus on safety and wellbeing standards in other couples, and finally on the scrunching of her face as though she is trying not to cry. 

“Are you trying to reassure me or yourself?” His tone was gentle, and quiet; his brothers would never believe it. Damian no longer had any qualms about having Marinette by his side no matter what. He needed her, just a week of thinking he had lost her, had him in a wreck,. He doesn't know what would happen if he were to actually lose her. 

“Myself,” She continues to stare out the window, but she seemed almost calmer now, “The vigilantism aside, we would have a decreased risk of losing each other, but not a nonexistent risk.” 

Damian knows that she is processing her thoughts, and smiles to himself, waiting patiently. “I love you Damian, it's painful to think about life without you,”

“Then don’t, don’t focus on the what-ifs, the negative possibilities, or the inevitable future.” Marinette finally looks at him then, eyes narrowed but a smile beginning to form, “Focus on today, that we are together”

“Are you trying to reassure me or yourself?” She parrots, giggling at his unimpressed look. “Empathy is so very interesting, we can so clearly see how to reassure someone else of our own fear but struggle with our own advice” 

“Never have more true words been spoken” Damian chuckles, taking her hand in his own, the car settling into silence once more. The calm atmosphere is cracked when Marinette's hands begin to tremble once again.

“Relax, Mari. They will love you”

“Yes but there has been so much drama surrounding myself that I can’t help but be a little more than nervous.” She thinks back to the phone call Damian received yesterday, unsure of how this ‘Brown’ person would receive her. 

“No reason to be unless you are truly uncomfortable with everything that happened? You never did tell me how you felt about all that?”

“Oh yea,” Damian scowls. Of course she forgot this had affected her too. Her own privacy to be exact. “Well is everything cleared up between you guys?”

Now it was Damians turn to be uncomfortable. “We haven't talked, but I let them know I was no longer upset.” Damian mumbles, thankful that he is driving so he had a reason not to meet Marinette's eyes. 

“Hmm, perhaps I should talk to the boys,”

“Why?”

“Well they did listen to my phone call, that is definitely something we need to discuss” Her tone was off. It was like she was trying to sound serious but sarcasm laced ever syllable as well. If he hadn’t glanced at her just then, he would have missed the smirk, now leaving her lips as she tried to school her expression. 

“What are you up too?” 

“I am up to nothing Damian. This is a serious conversation.” Yea no, not even Dick would fall for that. 

“I trust you will tell me what you really want to talk about with them later.” He wouldn’t pry anymore, but he wasn’t going to drop it either. Marinette only smiles softly at him, reaching her hand to trace his jaw line. The action leaving him distracted and hyper aware at the same time. 

“All in good time Love, just trust me on this one.” 

“You play dirty” He growls out, grip tightening around the wheel. Again she laughs, repeating her earlier action. 

“I know you love me” She teases cheekily, before bringing their conversation away from the topic of family and onto miscellaneous, trivial ones. Damian responds idly, enjoying having her back in his presence. Soon they reach the broad gates of Wayne manor, hidden behind the thick foliage making Marinette feel even more like an outsider. 

Damian climbs out of the car, waiting for Marinette to join him at his side. He glances behind him confused when she does not appear. A quick glance shows that she is still in the car, fists clenched as she takes a few deep breaths. Damian waits patiently for her to finish. 

When she finally climbs out of the car, her face shows confidence, while the trembling of her hands betray her nerves. Damian’s larger hand swallows her, Damian likes to think he is absorbing her nerves, and the smile she sends his way almost makes him believe that. 

“Oh I almost forgot” Damian reaches into his pocket, pulling a small box out. Marinette smiles softly at him before giving her hand to him to accept the ring. It is a simple silver band with one small pink stone embedded in the ring. It was perfect for the seamstress, nothing to snag on the fabric. 

“You didn't have to do that Damian”

“You are my fiance and tradition dictates I present you with a ring as a symbol of our status” Marinatte tries not to laugh but fails, breaking down into small giggles. 

“Also,” Damian leads her towards the ‘house’ once more, “I want to see how perceptive my family truly is” 

They walked inside, the liveliness of the manor there, but muted to the back of the house. The couple start to move to the back only to be halted when Damian is tackled to the ground. Marinette can’t help but gasp as he slides back to the front door.

“Uncle Dami! 

Damian carefully sits up, hugging the small girl to his chest. She may only be nine now, but she grew into her tamaranian strength everyday. “Hey there power-pop, stronger than the last time I see.”

The girl giggles, she lifts Damian off the ground, hugging him tightly. “Mom has been training me everyday. I can lift a small car now!” Her eyes are a bright green, alight with an energy that only a child knows. 

“Can you now power-pop? Do you mind putting me down, I would like to introduce you to someone.” Damian gasps for breath, rubbing his side. He was bound to have a few bruises by tonight, as he always did after seeing Mar’i. “This is Marinette.”

Marinette watches in temptation as the girl turns her attention to her. Her posture is relaxed, open and friendly. She was well muscled for her age, and probably the tallest as well, standing close to Marinette's shoulders, who was only 5’3’’. Marinette couldn’t help but love the contrast of her vivid green eyes to her midnight hair and sunset skin tone. She would grow to be a beautiful woman. 

“Hi I’m Mar’i.” She chirps, bouncing a little as she approaches Marinette for a hug. 

“Be gently power-pop, she's not used to your strength.” 

“Ok Uncle Dami.” Marinette gasps a little, if this was gentle, she felt bad for whatever kind of hug Damian received. 

“It’s nice to meet you too Mar’i you want to hear a secret.” The girl's eyes light up at the question. She nods eagerly, leaning in close.

“My friends call me Mari, just like your name.” Marinette whispers, side eyeing Damian with a smirk. He frowns at her, clearly put off by being out of the loop. 

“Really!?”

“Yup, do you think you could help think of another nickname for me?” Marinette continues to whisper. 

“I will think really hard! Do you have any superpowers or are you super cool like my dad?” Before Marinette can answer, a man enters behind her standing behind Mar’i with his hands on her shoulders. 

“Mar’i what have we said about asking those kinds of questions. Not everyone is Meta or comfortable admitting they are Meta. You are free to talk about yourself, but don’t ask those questions.” 

“Sorry Dad, sorry Marinette.” 

“To answer your question Mar’i, no I don't have superpowers, but I can perform magic and have magic friends. Would you like to meet them?” Marinette smiles at the girl, relaxing when the excitement returns to her eyes. 

“Can I? Where are they?” 

Tikki and Kaalki fly out of their hiding places, smiling at the girl as well. She giggles when Mar’i only grows more excited, firing off questions a mile a minute. With a defeated shake of his head, the man holds out his hand to Marinette. 

“Dick Grayson, it's a pleasure to finally meet you.” He moves them off to a sitting area beside the entryway. 

“Marinette Dupain-Cheng, likewise. Your daughter is precious, I can’t imagine how much of a handful she must be though.” 

“You have no idea,” he chuckles with a glance back at his daughter, “Mar’i Grayson if you want to fly, go outside.” 

“Com’on Tikki and Kaalki I want to see how high you can fly!” The adults all show variations of amusement and exasperation at Mar’i’s excitement as she darts out the front door, the kwami close behind. 

The adults left in the room jump, the sound of breaking glass and swearing echoing from down the hall. Dick only pinches the bridge of his nose muttering to himself. “I am so thankful I don’t live here anymore”

Damian only shares a look with Marinette, who is already moving down the hall to investigate. He watches as she takes quick glances at the pictures lining the walls, Alfred putting careful attention into each and everyone. Damian wasn’t fond of pictures, but had realized at a young age that they helped recreate the good memories. 

The sounds of an argument grow as they come closer to the kitchen. Damian knew what kind of scene awaited him behind the swinging door, Marinette however would be horrified. She was as meticulous in the kitchen as she was with her sewing. She cleaned as she went, and put everything away after it was used. Her kitchen was never left with a blemish, and she almost took his head off the first time he tried to help her cook dinner. 

He watched as she pushed open the door, taking in the scene in front of her. Tim stood with his back to her, a handheld broom clenched in his fist as he waved it around to emphasize his words. 

Jason stood glaring on the other side of the kitchen island yelling back. Alfred stood off to the side, exasperated at their antics, choosing to continue cooking, leaving the young men to their own devices. 

“What has Alfred been teaching you?” Jason shouts, gesturing wildly at the broken glass and pasta sauce splatter from floor to counter to ceiling.

“To cook unlike you, at least I can be in the kitchen by myself without it bursting into flames.”

“Yeah because all you know is how to use the microwave.”

“Says the king of microwavable dinners for one”

“Why you-” Jason stops from leaping over the counter at Tim, his eyes widening at the sight of Marinette standing in the doorway. Tim turns in confusion before also freezing in what could be fear or shock, Damian couldn’t tell. 

“Hello Miss Marinette, it is wonderful to meet you after all this time.” Alfred comes over, taking her hand in his own. Marinette smiles at him, his hands are soft, but not as soft as his eyes. If this man was a part of Damian’s family, then she truly had nothing to worry about. 

“I feel the same,” Marinette can feel the love he has for his family. Though he continues to age more each year, he continues to serve them with all the care he can give. “I look forward to getting to know you.” Alfread plays with Marinette’s ring, giving her a mischievous smile before turning back to the stove. 

The boys still hadn’t moved, they stood defensively, waiting for Marinette to strike. From their viewpoint they feel like cornered prey, Marinellte the Lioness, waiting for the proper moment to strike. Both men begin to sweat, the mess quickly forgotten. She gently takes the broom and dustpan from Tim, leaning down to sweep up what she can, thankful that she had not removed her shoes at the door. They watch with trepidation as she cleans their mess, until all sauce she could reach is wiped up and the kitchen just one step back into order as it was before. 

“Alfred, what are you cooking? It smells delicious.” The boys flinch as Marinette finally speaks after the long silence. 

“A simple dish for the boys to learn and Miss Mar’i’s favorite. Spaghetti with corn bread.”

“Wonderful, I have not had many dishes related to American-Italian food, I can’t wait to try it” 

“You can thank the boys here, they did most of the work” Marinette finally turned her full attention towards them, giving them a soft smile. 

“Thank you for cooking dinner for us.” Damian is trying his best to contain his laughter, they could only give her a shaking nod of their heads, eyes still wide. She only continues to smile at them, gently taking the spoon from Alfred. 

“Why don’t I help the boys finish dinner, that way you can relax for the night. Spend some time with Mar’i?” Alfred pats her cheek gently.

“Thank you Miss Marinette, the cornbread is on a timer and the noodles only need to be drained soon, vegetables are also on a timer.” Damian walks with Alfred back down the hall, smiling proudly alongside his grandfather. 

"Those boys are in for a surprise Damian" Alfred chuckles, leaning on Damians arm. 

"She's up to something, that's for sure" with one last backwards glance at the swinging door, Damian leads Alfred to the sitting Area, joining Dick and Bruce in the relaxing environment. 

Back in the kitchen Marinette hums softly, continuing dinner preparations while the boys have tried to distance themselves as far as they possibly can from the young woman. 

Jason sits stiffly on his stool, hands gripping his knees until his knuckles are white. He sends constant glances at the door, wondering if he should run or face her lecture like a man. Her humming was starting to put him on edge. Marinette Dupain-Cheng has not behaved like one would expect in this situation. Jason was flying blind. 

Tim, on the other hand, is trying to control his shaking by sitting with perfect posture for once, hands folded neatly in front of his on the marble top. With a glance you would picture him to be perfectly calm, if it were not for the beads of sweat on his brow or the constant fidgeting with his hands. He too was confused and on edge. He knew few women on a very personal level, and each and every one of them scared him, but at least he knew what to expect. Marinette being completely calm and unreactive left his head spinning. 

Both boys were used to yelling and even fist being thrown. Not gentleness and kindness. Just when the silence was getting too much to bear, she spoke again. 

"I must thank you both, you would have made a paranoid old man feel very justified" she sends another one of those smiles over her shoulder before turning back to the pasta mixture. 

“What?” They echo off each other. 

“My master saw a movie one day where they were listening in on phone calls. After that, he insisted we talked in code with each other when it related to temple business.” Content that the food was good to leave alone for a moment she turns to face the boys, almost laughing at their equally confused and tense facial expressions. 

“Glad we could help?” Tim is at a loss for how to proceed. Damian yelled at them, shouldn’t Marinette too? How would Damian even find someone this polar opposite from him? This must be a mind game, no other explanation. Tim would not lose. 

“Can you please just get this over with, we can take anything you have to say” Jason finally snaps, instantly regretting his tone but he couldn't take the drawn out punishment any longer. Hugging Bruce for twenty-four hours would be preferable to this. 

“And what, Jason, am I getting done and over with?” Damian had mentioned his brothers every so often, only in passing stories or complaints. It was quite easy to see who was who. Jason was known for being a hot head, quick to speak. Tim on the other hand, Damian had bragged about being taller than him, and well, he was clearly the shorter of the two. 

“Yelling at us for everything we did to you.” 

She smirks at them, leaning on her elbows staring at them in such a way they couldn’t help but feel as though she was searching their souls. Maybe she was; they didn’t know what kind of magic she knew afterall. 

“Oh that, I don’t care about that.” She shuts off the timer, removing the bread carefully while the boys processed her words. 

“You-you don’t care that we listened to your phone call?” Tim is the first to speak.

“Or the background check we did on you?”  Jason finishes. The boys relax a little, but again Tim is waiting for the rug to be pulled from under his feet (like that hadn’t been happening since she stepped foot in the kitchen). Jason had stopped looking at the door, hyperfocusing on Marinette body language. She was relaxed, moving about the kitchen like she had cooked within its walls her whole life. 

“Nope.” She says it with such sweet innocence, they obviously had different perceived notions on the seriousness of the topic. 

“Why?” 

“Because it's your job. How many times have you had to do something like this and it helped you save countless lives?” She easily finds the strainer in the first cabinet she checks. 

“Uh,”

“I can say I do not like or prefer my privacy being overstepped, but how can I hold that against you? How can I be upset by something that you do to protect people, especially those you love.” 

“What?” Each boy's response continues to be more intelligent than the last. 

Marinette giggles, “So no I am not mad at you guys for those actions.”

Tim narrows her eyes at her words, “That insinuates that you are upset with us about something.”

“Yes I am saddened by one thing and that is, that you don’t trust Damian.” She has stopped smiling, giving each boy a heartbroken look. She gives them time to think, finishing dinner preparations. 

“Of course we trust him,” Jason starts, offended that she would declare such a thing. Look at them with such disdain and judgment. Who was she to judge him and behave like she knows everything. 

“Yeah, he always has our backs, we would have died more times than we can count if he wasn’t there” Tim is now also on the offensive. Why did he fear her words again? She clearly knew nothing and was only on Damians side, her view of the situation had been tainted. 

Marinette watched each boy express their anger and pain. She sighs a little at their pride, but hopefully this conversation wouldn’t be too painful. 

“You trust him with those things, yes, but do you trust him with his own decisions?” Seeing that they didn’t have an immediate response, she continued on. 

“Have you ever let Damian make any decisions on his own? Even if you knew they could or would result in mistakes?”

“Of course we have, we aren’t Bruce or Alfred after all.” Jason grumbles, still put off by where the conversation was heading. He would rather she had just yelled at them by this point. 

“Then why didn’t you listen to him?” The sound of her stool scraping against the floor sends a feeling of unease through the room. 

“Because we-” Tim falters. “Because we thought we knew best” He finishes weakly.

“We just want to protect him,” Jason adds in defense, “We have been through things like this before. Better safe than sorry.”

“And is it better?” She takes a hold of their left and right hand respectively. “Is it better to lose a relationship with your brother or be there for him when he needs it?” 

She lets them process her words, their eyes are looking anywhere but at her, brows creased with thought and worry. 

“But he could have-” Jason starts angrily before glancing at Tim, the door, then Marinette. Jason couldn’t finish, she might not know, and the last thing he needed was to say something to break them up and get on Damians bad side again. 

“You were afraid he could die again?” The boys wanted to be shocked he told her, but clearly Marinette was a special woman. She squeezes their hands, the boys feeling calm and comfort now instead of anger. 

“We are all human. We all make mistakes,” Tim flinches, “But if we don’t, then how are we supposed to gain knowledge and growth?”

“But some mistakes are irreversible.” Jason mumbles.

“That is true, and those are the most painful.”

“We have made some of those mistakes, and we know how it ends, we can help stop him from living with our regrets” Tim argues, desperate to show Marinette how much good he meant, that he just wanted Damian to stay safe. 

She only smiles, “And that is a desire I never want you guys to push away, but you can’t protect him from everything. You can’t control everything, and you most certainly can’t control another person.”

Jason felt like he was slapped across the face just then. When had he started to behave like Bruce? When had he become so overbearing? 

Tim felt the knots retie in his stomach, and the constriction of his lungs retightened. He didn’t want to be controlling, but he needed to be in control. Now he was frustrated by this clear paradox. 

“Instead,” they focus in on her words, as the tone is a hopeful one, “Share with him your knowledge, give advice when he asks, and most importantly,” They are breathless now, completely captivated by her voice and eyes. Her eyes are intense, clearly this point needs to be taken to heart, while also having a soft edge to them, she isn’t angry, she is patient. 

“Be there for him when he needs you. It is better to have a relationship then a partnership isn’t it?” She waits a beat for her words to sink in before hopping off the stool to finish dinner, leaving the boys to process. 

“Thank you Marinette,” Jason is the first to speak, coming to stand beside her, helping her plate everything. “He picked a good one” She flushes at his words, flattered and embarrassed. The three adults are now content, a relationship of understanding growing between them. 

To bring a sense of normalcy, Jason launches into as many embarrassing stories of Damian he can recount while they finish dinner and set the table next door. Tim chimes in every now and then to correct him, or add detail, but otherwise stays out of the conversation. Marinette laughs heartily at each story, glad that there was still something to learn about Damian. She is glad to finally meet his family, after all she missed her own overseas. 

“And then he comes home with a cow right, don’t know how or where and he refused to tell us.” Marinette giggles at the idea of preteen Damian dragging a cow through the front doors of the Manor. They are walking the halls to retrieve the family for dinner when raised voices from the sitting area give the three adults a sense of urgency. 

Rounding the corner Marinette watches as a blond woman bares down on Damian, her finger in his face. He only looks annoyed, staring her down with narrowed eyes. Rather she would be bearing down if not for the height difference. She was almost standing on her tiptoes to get into Damian’s face. 

“You haven’t changed at all in the last decade!” The woman yells. “Stubborn and wrong to a fault again!” Her face flushed red, muscles tightened and her entire posture tense. 

Damian flinches, his body shifting only the slightest. The only outward sign that what was said hurt him. His arms wrap tighter around his body, spine straight. Marinette narrows her eyes before marching over and pushing herself into the woman's personal space. 

She takes a step back, blinking in surprise at the smaller asian woman invading her space. Her eyes widen when she finally processes who exactly is in front of her. “You-” she snaps her mouth shut however, her sentence unfinished. 

Stephanie is unsure what kind of person she is dealing with. While she stands defensively in front of Damian, her petite stature leaves her confused on whether or not she was truly a threat. However when Stephanie looks her in the eyes, she knows the answer to that question. There is more to her than there seems. Her eyes are hard in the iris, no other sign showed her clear anger at Stephanie. Or was Stephanie imagining the anger? She looked like she was going to cry more than anything.

"Steph that is enough" Tim grabs her hand, pulling her from the room. "Even I know that was uncalled for." She flinches at his quiet anger, bowing her head.Alfred continues to observe his new granddaughter. While she did well to hold herself with dignity, it was clear that she was just as upset as Damian about the words spoken. Marinette sighs deeply before turning to face the occupants of the room. Jason had taken a seat next to Dick at some point, whispering fiercely into his ear, a smug grin on his face. Marinette turns to Bruce, extending her hand. 

“It is a pleasure to finally meet you” 

“Likewise,” Bruce is surprised at the sight of the ring as she pulls her hand back. He was unaware that things between the two were so serious. One glance to Damian solidifies the fact in Bruce's mind. He looked so relaxed and in love, despite the tense situation just moments prior. 

Even as Damian grew up, his tough personality made it difficult for him to let people get close to him, and for people to desire to get close. Bruce thinks Damian never truly realized how lonely that was until he had graduated highschool. He was overjoyed for his son to finally let someone into his heart and to freely give his away. That was a truly proud moment for Bruce. 

“Please continue to stay by Damians side.” He does not quite know why he would request such a thing from her, just that he did not regret asking once he saw the resolve on her face. 

“I can’t imagine leaving him” Bruce nods, glad to hear her words, "and I apologize for the chaos i have brought to your home" 

"My dear, you have done no such thing. Their nightly activities have left them high strung and on edge" Alfred gently reminds her, "They get a little stuck in their heads on occasion" 

Marinette looks like she's about to argue with him, but a gentle touch to her shoulder from Damian has her smiling politely at Alfred instead. 

"Learn to accept you're not responsible for everything" Damian scowls at her, that only has her scowling right back. 

"I was just-" 

"Being ridiculous like always" Damian quickly finishes for her, giving her shoulder another squeeze. 

“What is it, my little bumgorf?" The room turns at the sound of the newcomer, Marinette gasping softly. Her skin was a glowing amber that contrasted like a sunset with her vibrant red hair. Her otherworldly green eyes were bright with joy. Marinette had never seen a more beautiful woman who would honestly make a great model for her line. That skin tone. 

 Dick rises, giving the woman a chaste kiss before settling his arm around her waist. “Marinette I would like you to meet my wife, Kori” 

“Nice to meet you” Marineete once again extends her hand but Kori pulls her into a hug, Marinette laughs. 

“Oh I’m so excited to have you join the family” 

“I can’t wait to get to know everybody”

"Mom, I'm hungry can we please eat now? Mar’i is pouting, both kwami sitting contently on her shoulders. 

"Of course my little bumgorf." The women decide to move to the dining room, the men following behind. Jason claps Damian on the back, pulling him into a hug. 

“Sorry for not trusting you. Marinette is quite the woman and you are very lucky.” Before Damian can respond, he moves ahead, cheeks flushed the slightest. 

“Wow, she can get Jason to apologize willingly” Dick laughs, before following after Jason, “Jay! Come back here” Father and son are left alone in the hall, both slowing their pace the slightest.

“I was unaware things were this serious” 

“She accepted everything about me”

“Everything?”

“She forgave me for my past actions,” Damian hesitates for a moment, but decides to push forward, “She said she loves me no matter what” 

“That is a very special trait to have” with that Bruce leaves, but not before gripping his youngest son's shoulder, the fatherly pride at his growth, both emotionally and physically. He is a fine young man. He can feel the emotions welling up, and quickly makes his leave, not comfortable with the vulnerability he associates with 'mushy' love. 

Damian smiles at his father's retreating figure and chuckles. Some things never change and he is thankful for that. Dinner goes smoothly for the rest of the night, Stephanie making up with the members of the room, the Kwamii introduced and questions answered. Dinner finished and goodbyes exchanged, Marinette promising to visit Kor’i and Mar’i soon. Damian and Marionette find themselves sitting in the car, each processing the night. Marionette seemed content with the outcome of the night humming softly to herself. The moon was still yellow and low in the sky, signifying the night had only begun. 

“So you gonna tell me what you talked to my brothers about?”

“You.”

“What about me?” 

“How sometimes the relationship is more important than the choices the other person makes.” Damian does respond right away after that, eyes narrowed in thought. 

“How did they take that?”

“Very well I think, but change doesn’t happen overnight so I’m sure their first reaction will be an overprotective one for awhile, so please be patient” 

“As long as I have you here to help me, I know I can change too” Marinette sighs happily at that, returning to watching the passing scenery out the window. Marinette watches in fascination as they approach the Wayne Tower in the middle of the city, entering the underground parking garage. Damian pulls into the secret entrance, parking the car in the large makeshift HQ. 

“Wow this is so cool. How does no one know that this is here?”

“We are very careful,” Bruce enters from a side room, already dressed for the night ahead. “Damian why did you bring Marinette here?” Bruce was already fond of his daughter-in-law to be and didn’t want her too close to the vigilante life. 

“I’m going out with you guys” She casually answers while exploring the area, looking at anything and everything. 

“What?” Jason and Tim say at the same time. One sounds incredulous while the other doesn’t seem too surprised. 

“I haven’t been out in so long, I can’t wait” She ignores the mens bewildered stares, looking towards the elevator. “Does that go all the way to the top?” 

“Yes, I’ll take you as soon as I’m ready.”

“Ok” She patiently waits for her love, continuing to examine the central computer station. “Look at this girls, isn’t this amazing. Imagine if we upgraded the temple with this stuff.”

“It would increase our appearance of wealth I guess,” Kalkki sighs, trying to not appear pleased at the obvious wealth her supreme has found herself in. 

“Come Habibti, we won't have all night,” Damian enters again in uniform this time. He wore a simple red and black ensemble, the trim of his cape and belt a muted yellow. His uniform differed from the other Robins with it being a tunic instead of a jumpsuit. His cape also had a hood and easy access to the sword on his lower back.

Marinete giggled all the way up to the top, Damian sending her questioning looks, which only made her laugh harder. Jason and Tim had decided to ride with them, curious as to why Marinette wanted to go to the roof. Exiting outside, Marinette takes a deep breath, enjoying the cityscape against the rising moon. With a quick flick of her fingers, she is engulfed in a deep red light. 

Damian admires her new look unabashedly. She wore what looked like a sleeveless tunic that went to her knees over a fully black bodysuit. Her tunic was red with black spots, trimmed in yellow with matching yellow tinted goggles. Her hair was hidden by the hood of her tunic and she had beautiful translucent wings at her back. 

“We match” She giggles again, dancing over to him on the tip of her toes. 

“At least I’ll know you’re mine” He caresses her face, hand trembling the slightest. Marinette can’t help but find the feel of his glove uncomfortable, clearly it was meant for grip, but she stayed still, letting Damian calm himself before they went out for the night. 

“Now please don’t be mad at me love, but I haven’t done this in so long” She starts after Damian had had his moment, slowly backing away  before taking a full run off the side of the tower. The boys gasp in fear, while Damian takes a deep breath through his nose. She can’t die, she can’t die. She can’t die. The mantra plays heavily in his head when he marches over the side, ready to chase after her. He watches as she free falls, her laugh ringing out through the city, possibly unnerving for the native. But to hear the joy she has behind it, he hopes everyone else is infected by it too. 

Marinette enjoys the feel of the wind around her, the hold gravity has over her stomach. She laughs at the feeling of adrenaline once again in a long time. Man she missed this. Finally she releases her wings, taking off through the Gotham air, dancing between buildings and gargoyles. 

She can feel him coming up behind her and slows herself enough for him to grab her, enjoying the sensation of being in her love's arms while swinging through the air. They touch down on a darkened rooftop, Each catching their breath. 

“You didn’t tell me you were a thrill seeker” He doesn’t sound mad, just reserved to the fact this this would be his life now. The worry and fear for her safety would never go away. But all in all, if it meant her joy and laughter, he would endure. 

“I haven’t free fell in so long, that was amazing!” She is still catching her breath, and still in his arms. As they both level out their breathing, they get lost in the other's gaze. 

“I love you Habibti,” Damian leans down to her, resting his forehead against her own, chuckling at the small antenna in the edge of her hair line. “I love you my little bug”

“And I love you my gorgeous Robin” She rises up to meet his lips, finding her home with him, and content with her choices. Ready to take on the world with him by her side. Partners in everything for the rest of their lives. Till death do they part.