#and their immediate reaction is to BLAME HER????? i need these men locked up

[jakeperalta]

saw a post about a 16 year old girl whose ex-boyfriend hit her with his car and then while she was pinned underneath the car used a machete to cut off her hand and almost severed her other arm and the comments are full of men saying "but we only know one side of the story" "she clearly did something wrong to make him that angry"............. I am once again thinking about that tweet that said men should start off in prison and have to prove themselves worthy of release

[pimosworld]

The ties that bind

Pairing- Dave York x f!reader x Frankie Morales

Series Summary-Dave is a private investigator who tracks down soulmates. He’s tasked to find Frankie’s, but what happens when he finds you and wants you all to himself?

CW-18+,MDNI,NSFW,Angst,Fluff,Tension, Confrontation,Mechanical Bull riding ( it needs its own warning)

WK-4.2k

A/N- Thank you for being so patient with me. I love you all, this is the reason I wrote this series and I can’t wait for your reactions.

[Series Masterlist][Main Masterlist]

Not beta read

Chapter V

Frankie’s fingers tap idly against the black phone screen. There were things he needed to do today but he couldn’t take his mind off the fact that he hadn’t heard from you. Or Dave. It doesn’t matter, he shouldn’t be angry or jealous, but he is. There’s an unsettling rage building inside him at the thought of not having you first. It’s not fair and at the same time it should be him. He told you himself you don’t belong to anyone but that’s not true. You belong to him and Dave may have stolen his opportunity. You and your perfect smile,your honey sweet demeanor and your soft hands. The perfume and scent of you that he hasn’t been able to rid himself of since that day he met you. Had Dave been anything other than what he was he wouldn't have blamed him. They’re no weak men, but when it comes to you it seems men make stupid decisions. 

The man is willing to risk his entire career and reputation to have you. He’ll gladly throw it all away and never help another soul just to say that he found someone that eases that ache in his chest, fills the gaps where the pain seeps through. Reminds them they still know how to smile and enjoy the sunset. 

  Worst of all Frankie admits that if the roles were reversed he would likely do the same thing. 

  Your name flashes on the Lock Screen and he immediately answers, cursing himself slightly for seeming desperate. 

  “One ring, that’s impressive.” You laugh as he groans on the other end. 

  “I was holding my phone and I must have accidentally…-you know what…I’m not gonna lie I was excited to see your name, I’ve been dying to talk to you since I left.”He’s definitely out of practice with this whole dating and flirting. 

  A brief pause and your voice comes in a little lower. “I wanted to call you last night.” 

  “You should have.” 

  He hopes you can hear the pride in his voice knowing you still thought about him despite your date. 

  “So…how was your date?” He shuffles uncomfortably on the couch trying to sound as supportive as possible. 

  You sigh deep contemplating. “Do you really want to know? Or are you just being the most polite man in the world.?” 

  “A mixture of both I guess.” 

  “Well, honestly I had a great time. I’m sure that’s not what you want to hear but he was a perfect gentleman.” You clear your throat like you want to say more as he grits his teeth thinking about Dave. “I’m not sure where to go from here.” 

  You mindlessly play with the stray fabric on Alicia’s quilt having slept in her empty bed last night. 

  “Tell me your thoughts hermosa, I’m all ears.” 

  Your stomach does a flip at the pet name and the thought of having to explain your unorthodox thoughts out loud to your soulmate. But he sounds like he really wants to know so you sit up crossing your legs underneath you and begin. 

  “I told him about you…and his words not mine, we’re that he was not afraid of a little friendly competition.” You think you hear a scoff but you can’t be sure so you continue. “You said I don’t belong to anyone so…I’d like to keep getting to know you both for now.”

  It’s silent and all you can hear is his soft breaths through the phone as you try to hold yours. You’re starting to panic that maybe you’ve said the wrong thing. 

  “Baby I’m not going anywhere until you tell me to.” He smiles as he hears your sigh of relief. Frankie decided the day he met you that he wasn’t going to stop going after what he wanted most. 

  You grin wide to yourself wondering how you got so lucky. “You’re killing me over here with the pet names.” 

  “I don’t fight fair sweetheart.” 

  “Ok mister, that's enough out of you.” You hear his infectious laugh, knowing how unserious you sound. 

  You hear the keys to the front door jingle and the tell tale sign of a hungover Alicia cursing her way through the flat. 

  “I was getting ready to send out a search party for my friend but she’s home in relatively one piece.” Frankie grunts on the other end as he’s sorely reminded of Santiago’s budding love life. 

  She makes her way into the room looking at you conspiratorially as she quickly gets under the warm covers. 

  “I guess I should let you go so you can talk about what a gentleman my friend was.” You can tell by his reluctance that he’s wanting to continue this just as badly as you. He hears you snicker as you catch a glimpse of a dark hickey forming on her neck. 

  You poke it gently with your finger as she swats your hand away. “Hardly a gentleman keeping her out all night.” 

  She rolls over close enough to your ear nuzzling into you. “Are you two having phone sex in my bed?” 

  “Oh my god no!” 

  “Bummer.” 

  Frankie’s bellowing laugh echoes through the receiver as she winks at you. 

  He hears you take in a deep breath and then a soft whine that he can’t think too much about. “I guess…we’ll talk later Frankie.” 

  “Looking forward to it hermosa.” You groan again and his hand drifts mindlessly to the front of his jeans. 

  “You and that mouth are gonna be the death of me.” You hang up before he has the chance to speak. To which he’s grateful because he couldn’t if he tried. 

  ****

  “What’s his mouth doing?” You narrow your eyes at her incessant teasing as she sits up to join you against the headboard. 

  “Enough about my complicated love life, how was your date with Santiago?” You raise your eyebrows at her while she stares back with a blank unreadable expression on her face. 

  She bites her lip and glances up to the ceiling. The silence stretches on for too long as you grab her hand in yours to force her to look at you again. 

  “Hon you can tell me anything, you know that?” 

  She squeezes your hand back. “I know, it just feels selfish with everything you’ve got going on.” 

  You level her with a look. “I’m being courted by two gorgeous men not having a root canal…spill the beans!” 

  She buries herself beneath the blanket. “I’m fucking head over heels, completely obsessed. He’s so kind and hot and we’re both messed up in the same ways. If  he asked me to marry him tomorrow I would.” Her muffled rambling stops for a moment as you hover over her and peel back the covers. “I think he’s equally as obsessed and that scares me.” 

  You laugh all light and airy. “Welcome to the club babe.” You plop back down against the pillow staring at the ceiling. 

  She sighs playfully. “Also he fucks like he’s trying to win the gold medal in the Olympics.” 

  “Oh my god don’t rub it in.” You groan as you roll over to face her. 

  She boops your nose. “Listen sweetie, no one said you can’t have a little fun.” 

  “Nuh uh…not until I make a choice.” You can see it as the words leave your mouth. The crazy glint in her eyes as the light bulb goes off in her head. “What’s that look?” 

  “You know where you love to go when you need to blow off a little steam.” 

  ****

  The floors are sticky and the room smells of cheap beer and sweaty bodies. It’s early in the night and there’s already several people on their way to being kicked out for being too drunk. Frankie narrowly avoided some drunk college girl about to spill her guts all over him as he maneuvered his way through the crowded country bar. He’s thankful for the loud twangy music from the jukebox and the shouts of overly intoxicated men trying to peacock their way into some poor girl's pants. At least it can drown out the thoughts he’s had since he and Dave exchanged quick instructions on where to meet so they could discuss things. 

  The conversation wasn’t long enough for him to gauge the tone. Dave deliberately said to meet here at this crazy horse type place. Every town seems to have one, a place where you could blend into the crowd if you wanted. Now he’s not so sure if the man knew what he was doing but he knows for certain it’s easy to get lost in here. 

  He knew Dave’s hotel would be too quiet of a place to meet in case things got too heated, they also wanted somewhere neutral where outside influence wouldn’t sway the conversation. Frankie’s never gone into a mission so blind and unprepared, all he knows is neither man has any plans to back down. 

  Frankie spots him in a booth in a far corner of the bar. He’s easy to see with his robotic stature, so much more out of place than Frankie with his relaxed tee and standard oil cap. He’s not sure what you see in him, or maybe he does and refuses to admit their similarities. Charming, disciplined, intelligent, conventionally attractive. It can’t be any of those things. 

  ****

  “Thanks for agreeing to meet with me.” Dave pours Frankie a beer from a large pitcher and slides it’s towards him. 

  Frankie eyes it momentarily and tries to shove down the annoyance brewing between them. 

  “Poison is not my m.o. so it’s safe to drink.” Dave takes the glass and a huge swig as he pours into the empty one. 

  Frankie accepts, briefly relishing in the cool liquid. He needed something to calm his nerves and times like these would have had him reaching for something a little stronger. 

  Frankie smirks. “Funny you say that since I’ve thought of several ways to kill you.” He sets his beer down and Dave laughs a little, shaking his head. 

  Dave clears his throat and slides an envelope towards Frankie. “This is all Santiago’s money. I’m sure you don’t care but I don’t make a habit of this.”

  Frankie takes it, tucking it safely into his front flannel pocket. “I’m not sure what I expected.” He pauses briefly as he rubs his jaw. “I guess I thought you’d called me here to tell me you fucked up and you’re backing down.” 

  Dave shrugs with a self surprised look. “I expected you to tell her who I was. There must be a reason you didn’t or we wouldn’t be sitting here right now.”

  Frankie’s thought this over countless times. It never sounds right in his head. He’s hung up on the fairytale and something about hiring Dave doesn’t sound like a fairytale to him. 

  “She likes you.” Frankie says all matter of fact. “I could tell when she talked about you…it just didn’t feel right trying to get ahead by telling her who you were.” Dave watches as he takes his cap off running his fingers through his hair and places it back on. “Besides I don’t think it would’ve made a difference with us.” 

  Dave expected this conversation to go much worse, it’s oddly normal and under different circumstances he would probably be Frankie’s friend. It bothers him how much they’re getting along. He anticipated some yelling and maybe some choice words ending in a punch thrown. That was the younger version of him concocting a scenario that he now realizes would never unfold between these two grown men. He knows they’ve both seen too much violence for one lifetime to waste it on an equal counterpart. 

  After a few more beers and some unspoken agreement they actually come to terms with the situation. They already know about each other and you’ve made it clear you’re interested in both men so they’ll wait as long as they have to until you make a decision. The loser will recede without conflict and they can all go on living their lives.

  There’s definitely an air of false confidence coming from either side. Dave believes you’ll choose him because he met you first and established a bond. He’s always been cocky in every aspect of his life and to him this was no different. 

  Frankie plays along because in his mind how could you not choose your soulmate. You had an instant connection and his best friend is dating your best friend. There’s no way he could go wrong. 

  “I’d say we have ourselves a deal Francisco.” Dave holds his hand out, much larger than Frankie has realized as he shakes it across the table. 

  “You might as well call me Frankie.” He replies as Dave’s eyes linger for a moment on his lips. 

  A brief flicker that anyone would’ve missed and Frankie’s grasps that he hasn’t let go of his hand. 

A loud raucous laughter pulls them apart as they look out into the crowded bar. 

  “Would you ever be caught dead on one of those?” Dave gestures to the intoxicated man on the mechanical bull. 

  Frankie just shakes his head as they look on. “Santi dared me once when we were on leave. I was seeing double that night so I never even made it onto the damn thing.” 

  ****

  “Your names on the list babe.” Alicia plops down into the booth as you slide her drink towards her. She gives you a look as she peels the napkin from the top.

  You give her a stern face as you peel yours back and take a sip. “Don’t look at me like that. You can never be too careful.” 

  “You’re literally sitting here with our drinks.” 

  “What if I got distracted?” You laugh as she rolls her eyes. 

  You swear sometimes it was like an old married couple. 

  You both sit back scanning the room, people watching like you usually did. You loved coming to this bar, especially on college night. You got to watch the cat and mouse game like it was National Geographic. Reliving your college days and maybe helping a girl or two on the way to not make the same mistakes you did when it came to picking people up in seedy bars. 

  It seemed counterproductive to come to a loud, crowded bar full of hormonal twenty-somethings to talk about your love lives but this is where you accidentally agreed to meet Alicia when you first moved here. She suggested the place to meet you and make sure you weren’t a creep and you agreed not knowing anything about the place. 

  Amongst the noise and chaos you found your best friend and roommate and never looked back. So now this is where you come to reminisce and unwind when life is too complicated or in your case a modern day episode of the bachelorette. 

  “So.” She claps her hands pulling your attention back to the present. “Have you decided what you’re gonna do?” 

  “No…that’s why we’re here remember?” You tease as you gesture around the room. “All I know for certain is I really like them both.” 

  “Just fuck both of them.” She half mumbles into her drink as she takes another sip. 

  You playfully narrow your eyes at her “I heard that.” 

  “I meant you too.” She shrugs her shoulders and sighs. “You know I’m mostly joking…I know you want more than just sex, but I say you see where it goes with both of them. Leave the ball in their court.” 

  Her phone buzzes and she glances down at it smiling ear to ear. You eye her curiously as she sends a quick text and places it back face down on the table. 

  “I hope Santiago has a big house because I’m coming with you when you leave.” You say as she looks up at you. 

  “Oh he’s well aware, wherever I go you go.” 

  You both don’t speak for a moment as you revel in the background noise, the music, random roars of laughter and way too much squealing from drunk girls. The sound of a chair scratching and some machismo voices getting a little too loud before inevitably a bouncer has to come break it up. 

  A familiar laugh breaks through the clamor and you crane your neck to look at the other booths. 

  “Alicia, I think I’ve had too much to drink.” Your voice barely above a whisper. 

  “You haven’t even finished your first one.” The laugh is on the tip of her tongue until she sees the concern etched across your face. 

  “Babe what’s-“

  “Wait here.” You don’t even recognize your own voice as the words leave your mouth. 

  She’s cut off by your abrupt exit from the table. You’re seeing red and your heart is pounding in your ears. 

  ****

  Frankie could’ve left a while ago but he’s actually enjoying himself. Trading horror stories and some stories that sound classified but Dave is opening up to him so he wants to reciprocate. His laugh reverberates through him with how infectious it is and his smile actually meeting his eyes makes him seem less robotic and a little more approachable. He’d even dare say that Dave is having just as good a time as him with the way he’s relaxed into the booth, his arm draped along the back while the other hand spins the empty glass on the table. 

  “What in the actual fuck is going on over here?” 

  You’re standing there with your arms crossed, a wretched look on your face as a few people look over to the table. It’s like watching a car crash in slow motion as Dave’s happy demeanor morphs into a glass eyed stare. The moments feel like an eternity as both men wait for the other to respond and Frankie would soon rather the floor swallow him up than answer that question. 

  “It’s not what it looks like.” Frankie sounds unsure of his own voice as he dares to speak first. The look in your eyes has him regretting that before the words leave his mouth. 

  You throw your hands up sarcastically. “Next thing you’re gonna say is…please let me explain.” He just blinks again, running his hand across his neck nervously as a few girls snicker from behind you. 

  You point your finger at Dave. “And you.” Your voice drops an octave as you lean into the table. “I knew you were a fucking liar.” 

  That stings, more than you could ever know because his heart feels like it’s ripping in two. Despite the fact that he may have ruined the best thing to ever come into his life, he looks across the table and sees the revelation that he may have ruined it for Frankie as well. 

  You can faintly hear Alicia’s voice a few booths over spitting venom into her phone. You don’t feel too bad for Santiago at this moment but you hope for his sake he’s doing a better job at explaining than the two men in front of you. 

  Your name calls over the muffled loud speaker and you huff out in frustration. “Figures.” You reach  across the table grabbing the full beer in front of Dave as he closes his eyes, bracing for impact. 

  Unexpectedly you’re finishing the drink, slamming the glass on the table harder than you intended…but you’d frame the look on their faces if you could as you walk away and step into the ring in the middle of the bar that holds the mechanical bull. 

  The second time you came here with Alicia she had dared you to ride it. After  much encouragement from her and promise that she’d do it too you worked up the courage to get on. Much to your surprise you were very good at it and it was exhilarating having all these random eyes on you. It gave you a boost of confidence you’d never had before. 

  This feeling is reminiscent of the first time, your best friend leaning against the ring as you swing your leg over and mount the bull. You signal the controller with two fingers up as you grip the underside of the rope with your other hand. A bead of sweat trickles down your back as you take a deep breath. He starts out slow as the music cues up. You always let Alicia choose the song and you’re thankful right now as Genuines Pony starts playing over the loudspeakers, bringing all the attention to you. A few cheers from the crowd drown out the sound of your beating heart as you make direct eye contact with the two men seated nearby. 

  He jostles you slightly as your grip tightens on the reins and the laugh that erupts from Alicia is intoxicating as every part of your body shakes. He’s definitely taking it easy on you so you hold up three fingers signaling for him to take it up a notch. 

  ****

  “Jesus fucking Christ…” Dave half whispers from across the table as Frankie tries not to drool at the sight of you riding the bull, glancing up at them occasionally with a look of ‘this could’ve been you’. 

  It’s the most erotic, mesmerizing thing he’s ever seen and you look so confident up there that it has him thinking you’ve got a few more tricks up your sleeve. It’s like you’re trying to draw them in as your hips move in tandem, like you’ve done this a thousand times. 

  You bite your lip and smile at Alicia as he tries to buck you off, instinctively Frankie’s eyes are on the crowd of men that have gathered to watch you as they look on with predatory eyes. He can see Dave gripping the table as he watches the same and this possessive feeling washes over him. He knows it would be an all out brawl if one of them did or said anything to you and it’s not fair to think that way but he can’t help it. It’s carnal the way you make them feel and yet they’ve ruined any chance at being able to walk over to one of the brutes now and say that you belong to them. He doesn’t know when it switched from just him to them but right now he doesn’t care. 

  ****

  You use the bulls movement to your advantage as you gyrate your hips, picking up your ass slightly when it’s within their view. You can feel their eyes on you and your previous feeling of anger toward them is replaced with a much more confusing one. Both of them captivated by you with rapt attention has your mind wandering in circles of what if? Why choose? You crave them in a way you can’t describe and this filthy display you’re putting on is only making things harder for you. 

  The song is coming to a close, and despite your best efforts you feel yourself slipping. Sweat beads on your forehead as the bulls movements become more erratic. “Hold on babe, you’re almost there.” Alicia is jumping and yelling from the sidelines as you grit your teeth refusing to give up. With one final surge forward you summon all your strength and hold on for dear life, the crowd erupting into cheers as you rode out the last of the song. 

  You dismount as the adrenaline is coursing through your veins. You meet their eyes briefly and a mix of admiration and awe is etched across their faces. Though you may have been tossed around like a rag doll you surely left a lasting impression on the both of them. 

  You exit the ring as Alicia approaches you but your view of her is blocked as a tall, half drunk man crowds your space. He reeks of booze and he assuredly is seeing double. 

  “You did a pretty good job on that bull sweetheart-“ 

  “I’m gonna stop you there bud.” Alicia’s voice cuts in from behind him and he whips around nearly losing his balance. 

  There's a heavy presence looming behind you and you don’t dare turn around already having an idea of who it is. 

  “Two for the price of one, how nice.” The man spits at her and she’s seeing red. Frankie’s hand is on you as Dave steps forward to give this guy a piece of his mind, but he’s  much too slow for the spit fire as the man keels over holding his nose. 

  She shakes her hand violently as you step out of Frankie’s grip. “Sorry to ruin your knight in shining armor moment boys.” She gives a fake sorrowful look as she hooks her arm in yours, leaning into your ear. “Let’s get out of here.” 

  “I couldn’t agree more.” You say as you both hastily exit the bar, it’s better for both your sakes that you don’t turn around to see the stunned look on their faces. They can stay to deal with the aftermath. 

  ****

  You stand outside arm in arm as you wait for the car to pick you up, hoping Dave and Frankie are occupied or just too afraid to face you yet. You’re both reeling and you can tell she can’t decide who should speak first. 

  “I take it you talked to Santi.” 

“Mhmm.” She glances over at you knowingly. “We have a lot to talk about.” 

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[rcksmith]

Sun — Kaz Brekker

Resume: Feelings are destabilizing things.

A/N: This story is not set in the books of Six Crows, I also changed the age of the characters to twenty-something because the idea of ​​writing something about a child makes me uncomfortable. All my stories, of any characters, are with them being of up age. Just like many fanfics out there in the teen series.

English is not my first language, so I so sorry if have a mistake.

Couple: Kaz Brekker/ Fem!Reader.

Warnings: Mention of fight, swearing, mention of post-traumatic stress, angst, mention of kiss, mention of desire, desire, mention of death, but so fucking fluff.

Word count: 3k.

Requests are open. Love you ❤️

— — — —

There were few things in life that he was absolutely sure of. Things that were immutable, solid, unshakable. That even the strongest of winds would not be able to shake the structure. A life built on the basis of an equation of chaos, suffering, death and despair generated a result where it was necessary to be sure of something. And one of those certainties was the ability of himself, of his instincts, of his intelligence, the notion that he himself was a person capable of resolving any type of situation with iron fists. The second was the certainty of the loyalty of his crows, of the two people who, he knew, would never turn their backs on him.

And the third... the third was that when Kaz Brekker first laid eyes on you, he was sure that you would divide his life between a before and an after.

It was a lepid, ferocious feeling that swept the body of The Bastard of the Barrel from the top of his head to the tip of his polished boots. The heat immediately gave way to a cold sweat, a shiver as if receiving a midnight sigh at the back of the neck. There was a quick sensation of burning in the heat of an icy fire, but his composure did not flinch a single millimeter. He had learned to keep it in all situations, trained with steel fists.

Kaz looked at you deeply, from the top of your hair to the tip of your feet, trying to find answers as to why you had triggered such disturbing sensations with a simple and ridiculous exchange of looks. But he found no answers. He found neither after a day, nor after a week, damn it, he did not find nor after a month!

You had joined the infamous trio because they needed a fighting expert, someone who could defeat a good number of men on her own without needing backup, which would make their bigger and more complex robberies much easier. And when they found you, a girl who had been the subject for a experiment to create super soldiers, your ability to fight, physical endurance, and your sense of loyalty, made you perfect for the job.

But none of that explained why, whenever the stormy blue eyes met yours, he felt like he was ricochet by living eels. It was exasperating, frustrating on so many levels that it was difficult to put into words. Kaz could not expose this misfortune to his two closest people, first because his pride in admitting a disturbance in his subtly balanced world was too great, and second that... even if he considered said that, he would not know how to name those feelings for express what he were feeling.

How would Jesper and Inej understand something that even he did not understand?

Kaz Brekker had a firm and calm demeanor, an implacably logical mind and a way of narrowing his eyes that ensured that his orders were carried out with great efficiency, all according to the moment he wished. Then, just as he did to get rid of any disturbance, he buried those sensations so deeply until, like his overwhelming pains and traumas, they stopped tormenting him.

He thought that, like his flawless and cunning plans, it would have the same effect. That his nerves could get back to normal and he wouldn't have to deal with the feeling that feel hiself whit cold and hot at the same time whenever he laid eyes on you.

But, if it was true that the practice makes perfect, this rule has not been applied in this situation.

The deeper he buried those beginnings of thats sensations, more of them began to flourish, roaring harder, as a constant reminder that he was not that rock of stoicity and absence of feelings that he liked to think he was. It seemed that, just as light existed to exorcise the darkness, you existed to show that he still had a beating heart. Hot blood still coursing through the veins.

It has not helped anything in his cause that, over time, Inej and Jesper have become attache to you. Jesper even more. But if Kaz put aside his frustration and irritation for a second, he would know that he couldn't to blame them. In fact, there was no way to blame every person who approached you, delighted.

Jesper once described you as "the soul of the party", and Inej said that you had fire in your soul. Kaz would not have been able to think of better definitions to put into words what you were. There was thing about the way you laughed, the way you talked, the way your tilting your head and your so easy smile. There was a thing about you. That transformed you into the solar system and people orbited in your gravity like planets.

You had a way with people, Kaz really thought it was a gift, a talent. You were always laughing, smiling, playing with people and making them so comfortable in your presence that, once, Kaz saw a trader, who are in a the middle of a refused to close a contract with Kaz, just melt and give up because of the smile you gave to him.

Nothing from you has been forced, malicious, shrewd or cunning. You really smiled, you really laughed, as if you were...happy. Purely happy. And, in a second of insanity, Kaz wondered if that happiness was possible. If it was possible for him to feel something like this.

But, just as Brekker took his soul close from you as much as he could to avoid any emotion, Jesper did the exact opposite. Very quickly, just like Kaz and Inej are, the two of you became a pair of inseparable friends. Were always together.

Perhaps it was because you two were overwhelmingly alike: Always in the eye of danger, addicted to adrenaline, purely outgoing and liked a good fun. Or maybe it was because, like everyone around you, Jesper felt drawn closer to your warm, joyful and comforting aura.

But whatever it was, the timbre of your laughter followed by Jesper's became a sound as natural as the whistling of the wind. And it didn't take long for you two to become partners in thefts and plans.

However, it didn't take long too for the reactions Kaz had about the influence of your presence to become...louder.

If Kaz Brekker closed his eyes and concentrated for a moment, he could still remember and feel that night perfectly as if it were yesterday:

The plan was succinct: They would have to go through guards, high walls and locks to enter a merchant's residence, open the safe, pick up the jewels and leave. Twenty minutes was the time limit to complete that sequence.

Everyone was assigned to one thing: Kaz would turn off a fabricated security system from a Grisha, Inej would sneak into the shadows to the safe and pick up the jewels, and Jesper and you would be responsible for dealing with the various guards. Everyone would have to meet in the corridor that led to the back exit.

Kaz did not think that that so ridiculous and simple plan it could go wrong. Or that someone could make a slip. To him, it seemed as easy as sneaking into a yacht boat. However, there he was, next to Inej who carried the jewelery bag in her hand, both of them standing in that dimly lit corridor, waiting for you and Jesper to appear.

"It's been three minutes!" Inej pointed, as if Kaz didn't already know that.

Her intonation was concerned, apprehensive, with a certain fear. Kaz thought about saying something, but as soon as his mouth opened to say anything, he heard...

Steps. Hurried steps of two people. No, actually, the two people were running.

Suddenly, you and Jesper burst into the corridor, running as if their lives depended on it. Inej and Kaz would have been worried if it weren't for the bastard and peraltas smiles that stretched across faces of you two, stretching their cheeks.

Then Kaz noticed the reason for the delay. You two carried a giant picture under your left arms. Jesper carried the front end and you the back end, like two children who made a mischief and was running from their mother. True accomplices.

Kaz's jaw opened, his eyes widened slightly and roamed the frame with agitated iris, while Inej was totally baffled.

"C'mon, C'mon!" You exclaimed with laughter in your voice, Jesper and you never stopped running.

As soon all left and took shelter in the safety and peace of the Crow Club closed in that night, Jesper and you fell on the couch, laughing and panting.

"What was that?!” But Kaz was exasperated "Do you both know how much risked the plan?!"

"It was only three minutes, Boss." Jesper defended himself.

"It..." That's when Kaz looked at the painting responsible for all the commotion and fuss.

It was a painting, a landscape by Ravka. The fold. In oil on parchment. A DeKappel. That was worth at least ten thousand Kruges.

“You commented that you needed a new painting for your office.” Your voice took Kaz out of the admiration on the painting, and Jesper and Inej looked at you as if they had discovered that now too.

Jesper and Inej thought it was just for the money...

Kaz looked up into your eyes, and the cold, warm shiver spreading across his chest and snaking to his bones. As it always did the moment yours eyes meeting.

He remembered commenting in passing, in a very vague and obtuse way, that he wanted a new painting in the office. Until that moment, Brekker didn't think you paying attention to what he had to say. Not when it wasn't about a job or plan.

But there you were, proving that you had heard. And that you cared.

His breath caught for a second, the icy chill turned to something warmer, like the first sparks of fire in a fireplace. The first flames that precede the fire.

After that, Kaz began to pay more attention, unconsciously, to what you said. And, consequently, he started paying more attention to you. It had been gradual, sneaky as a snake, imperceptible so he wouldn't be able to root it out. As if the universe, destiny or divines, introduced, grain by grain, a small summer in a landscape frozen by winter.

It all started with your comment about liking it sweeter than salty, that dry wine left you with a headache and that you preferred rum. He evolved to notice how your tone of voice got sweeter when you talked to children or animals, and more serious when it came to the safety of the three crows. And suddenly, as if Kaz already knew this as he knew the sky was blue, he knew how to say how your eyes sparkled when you felt the warmth of the sun on your skin.

In that second, looking at you from the other side of the agitated club that turned into a celebration with dance and music, the world became suspended for a moment. The music became just an echoing, blurry noise, the images turned to slow motion and the air seemed to change in pitch. You, who laughed and speen round in Jesper's arms amid so many people who did the same thing, were the only one who starred as the main attraction.

In that minute, when the breath was slow and lyrical, and the air had a beauty tone, Kaz's eyes caught the exact moment when a beam of sunlight hit your face, shining on your skin as if you were one pirate tropical treasure. In a burst, a second of insanity, like a violin string that burst at the apice of the song, he felt that there was nothing else in the world worth seeing that was not you.

It was a scary, terrifying discovery. Something that made him freeze from head to toe, and all the speed in the world came back so fast that Kaz felt dizzy. He pressed his covered hand to the crow's beak of his cane, as if he needed a reminder of reality. Something that would wake him up from those hellish sensations.

- -

The months passed after that fateful afternoon. Kaz avoided staying close to you any longer than necessary and would strongly and vigorously scold every change of tone within himself whenever he saw you.

He didn't know what those sensations meant, but he also didn't want to find out. He liked challenges and responsibilities, but being around you was proving to be more than he could take. Your presence ignited him in a cold and warm fire, promising a future full of unfulfilled infinite wills. From pain, impotence and doomed to failure. Any feeling for you would be more of a punishment than anything else. The only solution was to get it out of your head.

Of course, he had been trying to do just that since he met you.

But again, the universe did not seem to want to give up from he. Not so easily.

Kaz had to take you along to make a deal with a merchant who was more impassable than a rock. Kaz had tried to negotiate with him before (since he couldn't take the strength or rob what he wanted) and all his efforts were in vain. So, he appealed for the last weapon. The person who always had a natural gift whit other people and always had a real smile that made anybody feel like... as if happiness really existed.

You.

"I'm glad it's hot" You commented, while walking next to Kaz "I don’t like the cold."

How did he know that you would say just that? That was so you. Warm, sweet and cozy things were the embodiment of what you were. It was logical that you preferred the heat. So different from him that, instead of you, enjoyed the cold. Liked the rains and storms, relaxed with the moonlight and felt less tense with the midnight winter breeze.

Kaz understood your personality as he understood the very lines of his hands. You were wild, bordering on reckless, you acted before thinking and you always loved anything that aroused adrenaline. You ran like no one else, jumped from one horse's cell to another, decided to catch the largest number of targets just because you wanted the thrill of fighting five against one. Anything calm, serene and peaceful stirred your restless personality. And Kaz knew exactly your level of restlessness from the way your leg was constantly jumping when you had to sit still for more than a few minutes.

You were a free spirit, forged in the heart of the sun and in the heat of summer. While he was limited by his own body and built in the heart of winter and frozen by the cold of the sea. Anything between you was doomed to fail even before you two met. Kaz Brekker knew this very well.

“He is late.” You grunted, your leg was already starting to jumping when you two spent a measly ten minutes waiting for the man.

You looked back and seemed to find it interesting, because Kaz saw your eyes shine.

"Let's go there?" You pointed, and Kaz had to turn around to see that you were referring to a coffee shop.

Crowded with sweets in the window for a change. Why was he not surprised?

“No.” He turned forward again, both hands on the cane.

"So I go over there and come back quickly."

“Y/n" he just said in a warning tone, giving you a scolding look.

You mumbled something he didn't identify, turned around again and did your best to be quiet. Five minutes passed before that merchant arrived, and Kaz can perfectly follow the change in his posture, change in the man eyes when you greeted him with that summer voice and sunny smile.

It was so vibrant, so vivid that, for a second, Kaz found himself slightly swayed by all the brilliance you emanated. Pulled towards your like an animal needing the warmth of the sun.

It didn't take much for the man to sign and agree with everything Kaz said and imposed. In fact, he suspected that if he had asked him to give him his bank password, the man would have been happy to do so.

"Can we go in the coffee shop now?” You commented as soon as the man left, still turning around to look at you as much as possible.

Kaz restrained the glaring urge to roll his eyes, but he had just landed a very lucrative business just and exclusively because you agreed to help. Even though you didn't gain anything from it. So, if he had to go with you to a goddamn coffee shop so he wouldn't feel like a petty profiteer, he would go to the goddamn coffee shop.

Kaz just walked towards the place, and the wide, summery smile you gave may have he missed a few heartbeats.

Stop it!

Once inside the damn store, you scanned the menu that hung on the wall.

“I never took this one.” You commented, pointing to what appeared to be a very sweet mix of drink. Something that involved ice cream and chocolate with something else.

It was not the kind of comment that had an answer, and Kaz was still engaged in the mission to stay away from you. But he thought that statement was just the reason why you wouldn't order that drink. But, just as you always threw any worldview Kaz had in the latrine, you asked for just that. His eyes were bloodshot with astonishment.

“Why are you going to order something you don't know if you like it?” He asked as soon as you got the drink and paid for it.

"How am I supposed to know if something is good if I never try it?” You said casually, both of you going out of the store. “Wanna try out?”

You held out for he the plastic cup that was covered by a lid that had a hole in the middle, where a fat, transparent straw came out. Kaz looked at you as if you had created a second head.

“Come on, you'll never know if you like it if you don't taste it.” The two of you stopped, you still holding the glass gently towards his mouth.

“No.” Kaz shook his head.

“Come ooon.” You insisted, a petulant and amusing smile plastered on your face.

"No."

You shook the glass, holding it out once more. This time, Kaz gave you a slightly annoyed look.

"You're not going to stop insisting until I take this thing, are you?"

You laughed, with a triumphant and friendly smile “I'm glad you know me so well”

Kaz rolled his eyes, snatching the glass from your hand and bringing the hellish straw to his mouth. Hell, he felt so stupid pulling that stupid drink through that straw. As soon as the sweet liquid invaded his tongue, an explosion of flavors flooded his palate, causing him to remain unresponsive for a moment.

"You liked it!" But just as he unveiled all of your lookes, you knew how to unveil all of his.

Kaz handed you the glass. “Absurdly sweet."

"You liked that I know."

You joked and, for a second, you had aroused he a desire to smile. A succinct curve in lips. With your sunny smiles and summer expressions, you looked like you were out of an enchanted forest inhabited by mystical creatures. Sun nymphs. Maybe Kaz would even have let himself go lightly if, when you took the glass back, your lips had not wrapped around the tip of the straw.

Exactly where his mouth was a second ago.

He pulse quickened so fast that it made the blood burn in his veins. It was impossible not to look down at delicate mouth, the subtle but destabilizing curvature in the center of your lower lip. Suddenly, he was out of breath, his body numb and his heart stopped beating for a second before accelerating to an alarming level.

Everything became hot, stuffy. The world spun away, out of focus, out of existence, leading he on a waltz unlike anything Kaz had ever felt before.

Kaz Brekker was the Bastard of the Barrel. Dirty hands and scammer. Someone trapped by his own body and traumas, unable to allow himself to enjoy human contact. But, hell, he was still a man. And in that moment, in that insane moment, he wanted to pretend, even for a few seconds, that what he wanted was within his reach.

Kaz thought he understood the desire: an attraction. He thought he knew what lust was: a wish that people felt. He had seen countless examples on his bar counter, drunk and chattering about what it was like to want a woman, to long for her. He thought he understood.

And he found that he didn't understand anything.

The desire was a hot and feverish whirlwind that shivered he from head to toe, with dizzying speed, and dragged everything towards perdition, below any intellect, any rationality. Rationally, he shouldn't have thought you were even more beautiful. But he did. He shouldn't feel his breath catch, but he did.

He felt as if he were walking on a narrow suspended board. One misstep and it would be the end of it. Hiding his disturbing thoughts, Kaz looked away from you.

He was ruined for the rest of his life.

[tarisilmarwen]

RobStar Week 2021, Day 6 - Formal Night

(Have a RobStar/BBRae double date for this prompt as a two for one special!)

---

"Do we have to go to this?" Beast Boy whined, fidgeting a little as Raven straightened his bow tie.  "Can't we just like, video conference in or something?"

"Metropolitan Society of the Arts hasn't quite nailed down simulcast technology yet," Robin said in explanation, helping the changeling into his dinner jacket.  "We could watch the livestream, but it'd be really laggy, and we'd lose connection more often than not."  He brushed Beast Boy's sleeves off when he was done.  "Besides, this is culture.  It's good for you."

Beast Boy gave an uncertain whine, but made no further comment, as Raven withdrew to slip her faux-fur-lined shawl around her shoulders and Starfire moved in to futz with his hair, smoothing it down into a semblance of orderly flatness.

"Do you not like the opera, Beast Boy?" she asked him, making sure his hair was to her satisfaction before stepping back and tugging up her long gloves again.

"Never really been my thing," he admitted, reaching up and feeling the slicked-down hairdo.  "Always puts me to sleep."

Robin wound an arm inside Starfire's, his jacket sliding neatly against the silk of her gloves.  "I wouldn't blame you," he laughed.  "Opera is kind of an acquired taste."

Starfire beamed at him, her eyes sparkling.  "It reminds me of the poetic ballads we would perform upon royal holidays," she commented.  "I am very excited for this."

Beast Boy shrugged, grabbing up his wallet and shoving it into his back pocket before reaching to grab Raven's hand.  "Well, as long as you guys enjoy it, I think I can manage."

Raven gave a wry smile as she entwined fingers in his.  The contented feelings of love and happiness from their double dates were like a warmth on her senses, familiar and comforting.  Starfire's eager excitement and the anxious thrill racing inside Robin at the thought of doing something with her she loved never failed to make the empath feel... more at ease, somehow.

The looks of adoration they traded with each other, the casual level of comfort they felt... She and Beast Boy were still navigating their awkward newfound feelings for each other but Raven very much hoped they could reach that level of ease with each other.

Beast Boy did like to cuddle, so that was a good start.

She squeezed his hand encouragingly, leaning in to whisper in his ear.

"I snuck your gameboy into my clutch," she told him.  "If you can stay awake until intermission, we'll sneak off and find a quiet corner."

He looked confused and bewildered a moment, but then seemed to light upon her insinuations.  "Ohhh, leave the happy couple alone for an hour, I get it," he said with a grin.

Fortunately Robin and Starfire were busy fussing over who was going to hold the tickets and didn't hear their private exchange.

*** Starfire's eyes were shimmering; she clutched hands over her heart as she listened with rapturous emotion, her Tamaranian powers almost haywire inside her with the strength of her feelings.

Beast Boy was snoring lightly in his seat, his head slumped over the top and drooling a little from his mouth, but Raven didn't seem to mind, leaned against his shoulder and quietly listening to the music with a faint smile.

Starfire could feel Robin's eyes on her instead of the performers, watching her reaction to every line, every moment, but she barely paid attention, so enraptured she was with the moving story and the beauty and technique of the singers' performances.

The main soloist was onstage now, pouring her heart out into a powerful aria about difficult love and Starfire felt herself ache for the poor fictional girl, doomed to forever be apart from the one she treasured and adored.

She clapped vigorously with the rest of the audience as the act concluded, peeking aside at Robin when he stood up, and doing the same.

"What is this called?" she asked, observing the same phenomenon from patrons down below on the floor.

"A standing ovation," he explained, saying it into her ear.  "It's basically used to compliment the performer, tell them they did a really great job."

Starfire beamed and clapped harder, joining the chorus of appreciation for the soloist, who stepped forward and took a quick bow as the lights came up.

Beast Boy snorted and startled awake, shaking his head and quickly wiping the drool away with his sleeve.  "What'd I miss?" he asked.

Starfire jumped into an explanation at once, her dress swishing around her ankles as she turned eagerly to Beast Boy.  "The heroine and her lover both snuck away from their houses for a secret rendezvous, in which they proclaimed their eternal affection for each other.  But the heroine's stern guardian found them out, and attempted to duel the lover to the death.  He barely escaped with his life and now the heroine has been locked in her room and has conveyed that she feels she cannot live without him."

"Oh."  Beast Boy scratched his ear.  "So pretty normal stuff, then."

"It was so moving!" Starfire exclaimed, her voice almost breathless.  "The lyrics of the aria were so beautifully poetic!"

Behind her, Beast Boy observed Robin, his eyes shining at Starfire like she was the beautiful piece of poetry.

He smirked a little to himself.  "Yeah I'll bet.  Hey Rae."  He nudged Raven conspiratorially.  "You remember where the bathrooms were?  I uh... kinda need to use the men's room.  Fast."

She caught on to his excuse, rising from her seat with him.  "Well don't pee on the floor, I'll get you there," she assured him, trying to hide her grin.

She quickly enveloped them in black energy and teleported them away.

***

He'd known Starfire was a sap—known for ages, really—but it still surprised and alarmed him when the Tamaranian princess burst into tears at the conclusion of another powerful number.

"Woah, woah, hey!" he said in concern, turning in his seat towards her at once as the applause filled the auditorium, almost drowning him out.  "Star, are you okay?"

She hiccuped, her breath hitching and stuttering as she tried to get her words out.  "It is just—so sad!" she managed around choked sobs.  "They can—never tr—truly be accepted by their families!"  Big wet tears were sliding down her cheeks, running the mascara Raven had so painstakingly helped her apply earlier that evening.  Starfire fumbled in her clutch purse for a tissue, her hands shaky, Robin eventually producing his handkerchief from his pocket and dabbing away at her eyes, worry pinching between his brows.

She looked at him gratefully when he finished, whispering a strained, "Thank you."

He nodded silently but sent an anxious glance back towards the door that led into their private balcony box.  Raven and Beast Boy had been on a long bathroom break.

Where the hell are they?, he wondered anxiously.

Turning his attention to his distraught girlfriend, Robin wrapped arms around her shoulders and waist, rubbing up and down her back, trying to soothe her back to emotional stability.  She calmed as he held her, her sniffles settling down, quieting into a somber ease.

"Sorry," he said.  "I should have warned you this one had a tragic ending."

"It is not that," she mumbled, hiding her face against his lapels now, vibrating the words against his chest.  "It is.. very silly but... these kinds of... melodramas about love and romance," she began, raising her head slightly, looking into his face with sad green eyes.  "It just brings up... old buried feelings," she said.

"What do you mean?" he asked.

Starfire took a deep breath, wringing her gloved hands.  "For the longest time... I feared you did not have any desire to be with me," she admittedly quietly.

That stung like the knife the heroine had stabbed herself with in Robin's own heart, and he gripped her tighter, fiercely.  "I know," he whispered in apology.  "I was stupid.  I kept putting up excuses for why we shouldn't be together, and I hurt you with how long I stalled, afraid of my feelings."  He shook his head.  "Afraid of myself, of being vulnerable."

"That is not how you feel now," Starfire said with conviction, looking at him adoringly.

He grinned.  "Nope," he agreed.  "I can say it now.  I love you, Starfire, and I never want to be without you again."

Her smile cracked her face and she flung herself at him, capturing his lips with a kiss as the audience applause and cheers down below became deafening.

***

Raven had the audacity to look completely unbothered as Robin stalked up to her, with Starfire trailing behind, leaned up against the wall just outside the men's bathroom with her arms crossed casually.  Beast Boy sat indian-style on the floor next to her strappy sandals, thoroughly engrossed in his handheld gaming device, beeping softly as he mashed buttons.

Robin set annoyed eyes on them.  "And where exactly have you two been?" he demanded.

"What?" Raven replied, shrugging.  "Starfire gets a little overpowering on the senses when she's emotional.  I figured I'd spare myself the headache."

"Besides dudes," Beast Boy piped in, not looking up, "we figured you two could use some alone time.  You guys haven't been on a real date in ages."

"Is that what you were doing?" Robin pressed, still a little irritated.  He nodded his chin towards Raven's shoulder, where her dress strap was askew, down around her upper arm.  "Having alone time?"

Raven coughed lightly and surreptitiously reached to fix her strap and cover it over with her shawl.

"The sentiment is appreciated," Starfire spoke up, eyes soft but strained, "but I was looking forward to spending the time with the both of you."

"Well, the night's still young," Beast Boy said, standing up, his Gameboy loose in one hand.  "I'm sure we can find something to do that we'll all like."

"Oooh!" Starfire exclaimed breathlessly, turning to her date.  "Robin, there are newborn giraffes at the Jump City Zoo!"

"Sounds good to me!" Beast Boy said, immediately grinning.  "Rae?"

"Nice quiet evening with only a few people and lots of calm content animals?  Sounds up my alley," she quipped.

Robin had trouble finding his words for a moment, having been quite distracted by the warm golden chandelier light glistening in Starfire's red hair and the adorable eagerness with which she looked at him, and stammered a bit before his brain shook itself back into order.

"Uh... that's—I mean—uh... uh yeah, sounds—sounds good to me."

She gave him a peck on the check affectionately, amused by how easily she could still flummox him, and slipped her gloved arm through his elbow, settling comfortably into his side.

"Would we not be overdressed, though, in this attire?" she asked, slight worry wrinkling her brows.

"You should keep the dress on," Robin blurted, then blushed heavily and trailed off into babbling again.  "It—I mean it uh—it suits you, green always—uh it looks—it looks really great on you and—"

Beast Boy rolled his eyes.  "Ugh, they're like the model couple, it's disgusting," he commented aside to Raven.

"Revolting," she agreed with a smile.  After a pause she shouldered away from the wall.  "C'mon," she urged.

Giggling, Starfire tugged her still-blushing boyfriend along as the two couples made their way through the glimmering tiled halls of the theater towards the exit.

---

So I’m not saying that Raven and Beast Boy totally had sloppy makeouts in the men’s bathroom but... yeah I’m totally saying that lol.

[wolvesandpetals]

Loki x Sylvie Post-Finale Fanfiction (Angst, Rated Teen) Part 1 of 2

SPOILER ALERT.

It's probably just the alcohol, but the beats of the music are starting to sound a little bit like a marching drum that's announcing war. She can feel herself dancing along to it, but her whole body is on alert, ready to switch to fight and flight any second.

"So, cool place huh?" The bloke in the leather jacket asks.

She tries to remember his name. Jeff something. Or maybe Jed. No, not Jed, she's thinking of Star Wars again. That's what happens when you binge watch a multiverse of movies in a single day.

Oh, yeah, that's right. She broke the multiverse.

Another shot of tequila, and she takes not-Jed's hand in hers. It doesn't feel right, at least not the way-

No.

She realises he asked her a question, but she can't remember what, and she just laughs, because that always works.

Encouraged, he leans in close and whispers into her ears. "How about we get out of here?"

"And go where, exactly?" She asks, but she's not sure he understands, not with how slurred the words come out.

She laughs again, and this time, it's bitter. This time, she's laughing at how this is so him, this getting drunk in the face of imminent danger and making a mess of things.

(But I'm not you.)

---

She's frozen in her place the second the glowing yellow door appears. But it's not for her, at least not this time.

She hasn't been on the run for a while. Doesn't need to be. Because even though she is the one who unleashed the chaos, it's the chaos that needs to be contained immediately. She's low on the list of priorities.

The TVA will come for her. But not right now.

---

It's extremely easy pretending to be a psychic. All she has to do is take her client's hands and enchant him, find a memory, describe it back to him.

Sometimes she does it just for fun, just to see the look of amazement on their faces.

Other times, she does it for the money she needs to survive.

"And I see a blonde woman. Very beautiful."

"That's my wife."

The way he smiles, loving and proud, makes her heart drop.

"What do you see in her future? Is she happy? Does she get the job at the magazine?"

There is definitely at least one timeline where she does get the job, but The Enchantress cannot exactly tell if it's this one. She can't actually see the future, after all.

She sees the colors drain from his face as her silence swallows the room. "She's going to be okay, right? I just want her to be okay."

(I just want you to be okay.)

There's that bitter laugh again, because-

No. She can't do this right now.

"She loves you very much", she whispers, to the man in front of her, and to the man who is not there to hear those words.

---

Mobius finds her in the middle of a concert by a Nirvana where Kurt Cobain never died. She can easily slip away, disappear into the screaming, writhing crowd if she wants.

Or she can just take him some place quiet and hear him out.

"Help us", Mobius pleads. He sounds exhausted, and not just physically. "We're outnumbered and outwitted. Our world is in danger."

"This isn't my world", she reminds him.

"Yet, you're here", he retorts.

Her smile is pained. "Where else will I go?"

He is sympathetic, like he always has been. And he offers her a new glorious purpose. "Come with me. We need you. He needs you."

She feels the air find its way out of her lungs the same way she pushed him out of her life- painfully, forcefully. "H-how is he?"

"He's okay... all things considered."

Now there's a cocktail of relief and disappointment that will give her months of sleepless nights.

"Tell him I'm-" she starts, but she doesn't know how to finish that sentence. What can she tell him? That she's sorry for not trusting him when she should have? That she's sorry for making the universes collide?

That she's sorry for betraying him and breaking his heart?

(How will I know you won't betray me at the end?)

"Nevermind."

---

It's been really hard facing the consequences of her actions, watching the timelines bleed into each other and destroy people's lives- families torn, achievements gone, every little anomaly delving into death and destruction. Every headline on the newspaper is her fault, and she has to live with that.

But that seems so easy compared to this moment where she has to face him.

The plan was to send him away, kill He Who Remains, give people their free will back, save the world, then come back to him. Yeah, he'd be mad at her at first, sure, but he'd forgive her eventually, she was confident.

Then the timelines started to branch the minute she stuck the dagger in that terrifying man's chest, and she knew she had screwed up.

She had sunk to the ground in defeat as the realisation of the repercussions hit her, and she did what she has always done- run.

She didn't even realise she had sent him to the wrong universe until she teleported herself into another universe as well. The journey back was long and lonely, but she dreamt of him in colors while the world was bleeding red, and that was enough to keep her going.

She doesn't really know what she'll do when she sees him again. Neither does she know what reaction she expects from him. Nothing he can say to her can be worse than what she thinks of herself.

A part of her hopes he would be overwhelmingly happy, he would come running to her, just like he did at The Void, greet her with the smile that has won a hundred hearts- including hers, and tell her everything will be alright. Another part of her fears that he would be furious, and he would confront her with accusations of unleashing havoc on all worlds- especially his.

What she never expected is this eerie calm that makes her feel like she is standing in the storm center.

His walls are up.

And it causes her to redirect the anger she feels at herself towards him. There's venom in her voice. "So you do get to rule, after all."

"I don't feel much like a king." He shrugs. "I'm more of a multiversal janitor. Mopping up multiversal messes."

"My messes."

"Our messes." He corrects, his features softening around the edges. "We made a mistake." He has been saying that ever since he found himself in the alternate TVA, and that hasn't changed even after getting back to his own version of the bureau. Always "we", never "she". He simply cannot bring himself to blame her without taking accountability for his part in the mess.

"Don't patronize me." Her hands are shaking, just like her voice, a sharp contrast to his steady silhouette, and can he just hold her, please? "I don't need you to take the fall for me."

His eyes go cold, like they were forged in the heart of Jotunheim. "Of course not", he says, fully composed. "You don't need me for anything. It's not like we're in this together."

(Maybe we can figure it out-together.)

---

She now knows her walls don't- can't- keep the hurt out- it just keeps her locked inside this cage of distrust and insecurities. And the price she has to pay for it is too high.

They could have been lying on a beach somewhere, sipping mimosas right now. Instead, they're here, in the vast, silent library of the TVA, sitting on separate tables, reading files on variants.

The only thing worse than bearing the weight of his gaze is having him stare at his files without looking in her direction even once. She can't take it anymore.

"I'm sorry." She suddenly blurts out.

He looks up, confused. "I'm sorry?"

"I'm sorry for what I did." She repeats. It's difficult to start an apology, but once she finds the strength to begin, the rest of it flows automatically. "I'm sorry I messed up everything. I'm sorry I broke the timelines. I'm sorry the world is in danger." She takes in a deep breath. "And I'm sorry I betrayed you."

His smile is the saddest kind. "A Loki betraying a Loki. That's the least surprising thing in the world. What's shocking is how I didn't see it coming. You really had me going with that kiss. Very nice distraction. Very Loki."

Free will comes with the fine-print of living with the consequences of your choices. And she has to live with hers every day. The tears finally spill out of her eyes. She hasn't let herself cry for a long, long time. But now she's breaking down worse than the multiverse. "I didn't do it to distract you. I did it to say goodbye."

He gets up, and she panics that he's leaving. Instead, he sits down in front of her, reaches for her hand, but changes his mind mid-way and lets them fall to his side. "You didn't have to say goodbye."

"It's all I've ever known." She feels like that scared little girl, far from home, running from minute men, with nobody to turn to but herself. "I told you, I don't have anyone."

"You had me."

That's the saddest part of it all, isn't it? Everything else in her life is the TVA's fault. She's torn from Asgard? Hasn't seen her parents in years? Can't remember her brother Thor? Spent her whole childhood running and hiding? All TVA.

But this? This is all her own doing. This is the one time she had something real, something worth holding onto, someone worth fighting against the world for. Instead, she questioned his intentions, didn't hold on, fought him and ruined everything.

"I didn't want to rule, Sylvie", he finally tells her. "I wanted you."

She has dreamed of this moment when he tells her how he feels. They have come so close to it so many times, the words dangling off the edge of his tongue but never quite finding their way out. She has always known- every word, every action pointed to it. But it was so hard to imagine someone could love her.

It's so hard to imagine someone can love her again. The past tense in his wording terrifies her worse than any danger ever could. "Is it too late to fix things?"

His smile doesn't reach his eyes. "We are fixing things. That's why we are here. Saving the universe."

"You know what I mean."

"I don't know how to trust you again, Sylvie." He tells her point blank- no deception, no lies, no Loki-ism. "And you never trusted me to begin with."

That's not entirely true. She trusts him more than she has trusted anyone. "I really thought I was doing the right thing."

"I know."

(Not to be dramatic, but yeah, we're saving the universe.)

---

The Avengers are much nicer than Loki described them, considering they don't kill her for what she has done, instead tell her about their own journeys towards redemption. Wanda tells her about the man she has loved and lost, and the pain she has caused to an entire town. Barnes talks about his past as a brainwashed assassin. Clint tells her the story of Natasha and how she took charge and changed her life.

Thor is the kindest of them all. He talks about how far Loki himself has come. He tells her stories of his version of Asgard, the nine realms, the glorious battles, the beauty of earth.

She still dreams of death, but sometimes she doesn't.

Sometimes, she hopes.

---

(To be continued)

[chaoticpuff17]

Suga We’re Going Down

part 10

masterlist

“Kang Y/N?” The man looked just as shocked as she felt as they stared at each other.

It had been years since she’d last seen him. Eun Jae hadn’t even been born yet. Ha Jin had still been at home. It all seemed a world away now, but he hadn’t changed. He stood before her just as tall and alarmingly handsome as he had always been.

“Is that really you?” He asked taking a step forward, a box shaped grin lighting up his face as though he hadn’t put her family through hell, as though he hadn’t gotten her sister pregnant.

“Kim Taehyung.” She stood up eyes still wide as she greeted him.

“It’s been a while.” He stood before her leisurely, smiling and completely at ease while she was anything but. “How have you been? How’s … how’s your sister?” The last question was a little more hesitant, a little less bright.

“I’m fine. Ha Jin is… I don’t actually know.” She laughed awkwardly, shifting from foot to foot as she avoided his eyes.

“You don’t know?” His brows furrowed in concern.

“I haven’t seen her since…” She paused unsure of what to say. “not since the baby was born.”

“Oh.”

Yeah. Oh.

“Is the baby…?”

“He’s fine.” She added quickly seeing the concern flash across his face at the question.

Taehyung sucked in a quick breath looking like he’d bee smacked across the face. “He?”

“He’s a boy.” She answered quickly. “His name is Eun Jae, after our grandfather. He lives with me now. Ha Jin didn’t… she wasn’t really the mothering kind.”

“Oh.” His voice was soft, awed and ashamed all at once.

“He’s two now.”

“And he’s…”

She smiled softly thinking of her little dude. “He’s amazing. The best kid in the world.”

She watched fascinated as a myriad of emotions passed over Taehyung’s face. Guilt. Curiosity. Hesitance.

“Do you… Can I….” She waited patiently as he struggled to find the right words. “Do you have a picture?” He finally managed to ask looking at her with an expression akin to that of a kicked puppy.

“Yeah.” She nodded shaking herself out of her own daze as she dug through her clutch for her phone. If there was one thing on her phone, it was pictures of Eun Jae. “Here.”

She handed the phone over and watched as Taehyung stared at a picture of her little boy. Looking at him now, she could see the resemblance between the two. Eun Jae definitely had some traits from his father, especially the nose. They both had the same nose and the same dark eyes.

“He’s beautiful.” He whispered awed as he stared at the screen.

“He is.” She agreed as Taehyung reluctantly handed her back her phone.

“Would it be… Could I…”

“Yes?”

“Could I meet him?”

That certainly hadn’t been what she was expecting. She hadn’t really thought that there was any chance that Eun Jae’s paternal family would come back into the picture. They hadn’t wanted anything to do with Ha Jin or the baby. It had in fact been made very clear to them that they didn’t want the baby anywhere near their family, and yet Taehyung was standing before her asking to meet her baby, his baby. No, it wasn’t his baby. Eun Jae wasn’t his. He wasn’t her sister’s. He was hers. She raised him. He was her baby and no one else’s.

“I thought you didn’t…”

“My parents didn’t.” He interrupted a frown marring his features. “I… I’d like to meet him.”

“I don’t know if that would be a good idea.” She hedged getting more nervous as the thought of Taehyung anywhere near her baby took full effect.

“Please, Y/N. I just want to meet him. He’s my son.” He was giving her those eyes again, those damn puppy eyes.

Despite the eyes, she stiffened up, her mouth set in a grim line. “He’s my son. I raised him.”

“Y/N.”

“You weren’t there. Ha Jin wasn’t there. I was. He’s my baby.”

“I just want to meet him.”

“I have to do what’s best for Eun Jae, and what good is meeting you going to do when you’re probably going to leave again?”

“I’m not going to disappear.”

“How do I know that?” She scoffed crossing her arms as she glared at him.

“I want to be a part of his life. He’s my son.”

“He’s my son.” She shot back, tone sharp. “Not yours.”

“I’m his father.” Taehyung argued becoming slightly more irritated as she resisted him. Her sister had always been a bit of a push over when it came to him, he hadn’t expected this much resistance from Y/N when he’d caught sight of her in the club. He’d just wanted to ask about Ha Jin and the baby, but seeing his son, Eun Jae, he wanted more.

“You’re not his father. Eun Jae doesn’t have a father. He has me, and he has Halmeoni, but he doesn’t have a father.”

“That’s not fair. I never had the chance…”

“And whose fault is that?” She snapped. “You and your family decided that you didn’t want anything to do with Ha Jin or the baby. That’s fine. We respected that decision. We didn’t ask you for anything. You have to respect my decision to protect my son.”

“That’s not fair.”

“Getting my seventeen year old sister pregnant wasn’t fair either.”

“Y/N…”

“Angel?” A different voice cut in as her coat was dropped over her shoulders. “He bothering you?”

She looked up to see Yoongi glaring daggers at the other man. If looks could kill, Taehyung would be dead several times over.

“I’m fine.” She assured him tucking herself into his side as he slung an arm around her shoulder. “Taehyung’s an old… friend.”

She wasn’t sure what else she could call him. They weren’t friends but it wasn’t as though she could say that he was her sister’s baby daddy and by extension her baby daddy. There were somethings that Yoongi just didn’t need to know.

“I see.” He nodded stiffly pulling her even further into his side.

“Kim Taehyung.” The other man held out his hand with a bright smile, but Yoongi ignored it glaring at him as though he was a bug underneath his shoes. “You’re a friend of Y/N’s.”

No response, and Y/N could see Taehyung shrinking under Yoongi’s harsh gaze. “We were just heading out.” Yoongi grumbled tugging Y/N back a little. “Ready to go, angel?”

“Yeah.” She looked up at him smiling shakily. She had never been good with tension, and there was tension in spades between those two. She wanted out of the situation as quickly as she could.

“Wait, Y/N.” Taehyung called taking a step towards them digging through his jacket pocket for something. “If you need anything, anything at all, call me.” He held out a business card to her, and Y/N could feel Yoongi’s gaze burning into her skull as she took it with shaky hands.

“She won’t be needing it.” Yoongi scoffed pulling her back again as she slipped the card into her clutch.

She didn’t want to be rude, and taking the card seemed like the easiest way to get herself out of the situation without prolonging it more than necessary.

“Let’s go, angel.” Yoongi kept a firm hold on her as he directed them towards the exit of the club.

“Call me!” Taehyung shouted after them.

Yoongi had been jealous before, more jealous than he had thought he’d be around his friends, but something about Hoseok dancing with his angel something about the boys watching her filled him with a simmering rage. She was his to touch, his to look at. Maybe his little show of possession had been a little over the top, but he couldn’t help but feel justified in it now.

He left for one minute and she already had men flocking to her. He couldn’t blame that on her though. She was too sweet, too innocent. It was the man’s fault. He’d come up to his angel and made her uncomfortable. No one was allowed to make his angel feel uncomfortable. No one else was allowed to touch her or look at her the same way he did. She was his.

Y/N felt the full brunt of his jealousy when they got to the car. Yoongi was on her immediately, pulling her up into his lap in a position reminiscent of the one she had been in less than twenty minutes ago. Her dress was hitched up around her upper thighs with Yoongi’s hands gripping her hips tightly as his lips attacked her neck.

“Yoongi!” She gasped surprised by the sudden ferocity of his actions. “What…”

“Mine.” He growled placing a soft kiss to her collar bone before biting down making sure to leave a mark.

“Yoongi.” She tried again, voice soft and soothing like she used with Eun Jae. Her hands went to his hair, her fingers gently carding through his hair making him pause in his assault of her neck.

“Mine.” He repeated more of a grumble than a growl now as he leaned into her touch resting his forehead against her shoulder.

“Okay.” She agreed with a soft hum.

They stayed like that for a moment before Yoongi lifted his head staring her down with those dark feline eyes of his. “You’re mine, angel.” He gripped her chin between his thumb and pointer finger as he forced her to keep her gaze locked on his. “Only mine. No one else gets to flirt with you or touch you or…” He trailed off with a frustrated growl releasing her chin.

“Okay.”

It was odd, possessive, but contractually she wasn’t allowed to date anyone else while she was in this arrangement with Yoongi. His reaction was a little worrying though. She was going to brush it off as a mix of the late hour and the drinks he’d had while they were at the club. People got odd when they got drunk.

“I didn’t like the way he was looking at you.” He huffed beginning to trail kisses up her neck again. “I didn’t like how Hobi was dancing with you either.”

“Okay.”

“I don’t like sharing, angel. You’re mine. Got it.” He lifted his head his gaze burning into her.

“Okay.”

“Say it.”

“I’m yours.”

part 11

[ginanosakka]

Passed Down Trauma

Masterlist

The War Has Begun | Next

“Why are you attempting to assassinate Eito L/N?”

“I’m not.”

“You’re lying, L/N. We found the notes in your home, we found the gun hidden in your car, and all of Japan has seen the video of you slandering your own father. Why did you do it?” Officer Yuikmara slammed his hands on the table in attempts to strike fear in you.

Without faltering, you said with a smile, “I can’t tell you what I didn’t do. . . but I can tell you that you have twenty four hours to let me go before it all gets fully released, Mr. Yuikmara.”

Katsuki and Kirishima stood in the living room of Katsuki’s apartment on what felt like pounds of questions and anxiety. Everything was going smoothly in the operation to protect Y/N and Ryu — now one was missing and the other was in police custody. The tension in the room was thick and despite Eijirou’s tendency to lighten situations, he made no move to ease his friend’s mind. In fact, deep down he wanted Katsuki to suffer for reasons that he knew were selfish and out of line. The unspoken feelings he had for a woman that he shouldn’t want were not hidden, and could not stay silent forever. Especially when that woman’s life was in danger and he couldn’t help but blame Bakugou.

“I’m going to burn that bastard’s house down, and Icy-Hot can put out the damn flames when I’m done.” Katsuki fumed as he paced the floor to try and calm down to think clearly. It was taking everything in him to follow the law and try to take Eito down the legal way, but with every minute he spent working on the case, he realized just how inbedded that man was in hero companies and the police force.

“That won’t get Y/N home, and you know it. What we need to do is wait for her to post bail and find Ryu, she’s probably worried about him.” Eijirou said, trying to find a way to solve all of this and think of what would help Ryu and Y/N.

Katsuki glared at Eiji, “you think you know everything? Y/N wasn’t even phased when we found out he was missing, you idiot!” Katsuki seethed at him.

“I know that Y/N loves her kid more than anything else, so maybe you were too busy being emotional to understand what she was feeling!” Kirishima bit back, not wavering under Katsuki’s harsh gaze.

“You’re just some sad, lovesick moron,” Katsuki taunted. “Why don’t you just admit the reason you don’t believe that she knows where Ryu is, is because you don’t want to believe that she’s hiding things? You think she trusts you so much that she’d tell you more than me? I can guarantee you that, like always, you’ll never be better than me.” Katsuki finished, both of them standing face to face with clenched fists and locked jaws.

The silence was loud like roaring beasts threatening the other to make the first move; two men who fell for the one they couldn’t fully get their arms around. Their friendship was equally as important to both of them, but how could one swallow their feelings for Y/N, simply for the sake of the other? Neither of them thought the other was worthy enough for such a beautiful tragedy you had written in your very bones. There was no personality, no smile, no heart that could compare to you. Even if they fought, the loser wouldn’t dare accept defeat.

A ringing phone broke through the silence, Katsuki’s pocket suddenly vibrating and taking his attention as he pulled it out. An unknown number was displayed across the screen, and in normal circumstances, he would have immediately sent it to voicemail with no hesitation or concern for who was on the other line. Today was anything but a normal circumstance.

“Hello,” he answered in a clipped tone.

“Mr. Bakugou, it’s Nanami. . I have important information I need to discuss with you.”

Rotting in a holding cell wasn’t how you wanted to spend your weekend, but it was better than being dead — you weren’t sure you wouldn’t be dead soon anyway, so you’re savoring just being in jail. You couldn’t even post bail, so you had to sit on the brick like bed and wait for everything to go through. Everything you built was currently being destroyed while you sat here calmly, waiting for the fire that is your father to be put out so you can remove the remains of his hold on your life and be free. . .

. . .Free to do what?

“L/N, you have a visitor, let’s go.” An officer interrupted your peace and opened the door of your cell, and you followed him without a word.

When you entered the small, dimly lit room, a woman sat there with such a crestfallen expression that you could barely recognize her. Her skin that was always flawless with minimal makeup was bare and her color suggested sickness. The gorgeous and bouncy hair that she did her best to maintain everyday was dull and clearly untouched. She looked like a mess, even in her bright flower patterned spring dress.

“Mom?” You said quietly, feeling a twinge of fear towards her when she was in such an unhinged state.

She looked up at you open hearing that word spill from your lips, and her expression brightened ever so slightly. It settled the fear and allowed you to fully fall into worry as you slipped into the chair in front of her — for the first time in years you offered her your hand for comfort. When her cold hand touched yours, you squeezed tightly in hopes of bringing her some warmth even in the cold room.

“I always knew you were secretly a momma’s girl,” were the first words out of her mouth along with an airy laugh. The joke was strange when it came from her, but for her sake you cracked a small smile. “I have a lot to tell you, Y/N.” She said in the softest tone you’d ever heard, grabbing every bit of your attention.

“You don’t have much time, so just say what you have to say.” You urged her, unsure of when you’d be able to speak to her again once she left this room. She had fallen off the Earth after that phone call, and you didn’t want her to leave you with questions.

Your mother began with a deep breath, “I’ve been married to your father for twenty five years. I did it for the money, never once thinking or caring about what he did and how he acted. . . until you were gone. I realized that he was. . different from other people. One day he was kind and compassionate, the next he was ruthless and cold, like a ticking time bomb that kept going off and shortening the time until it’s next reaction. It was easy to ignore at first, I just left him alone as I always did and made sure our interactions were kept completely secret. . Then he saw you on the news with that Bakugou boy-“

“You have five minuets left,” a man called on a speaker into the roo and you gestured for her to get to the point.

“What I’m trying to say is that there’s something wrong with him, Y/N. If you take him down by just destroying all his business and credibility I’m scared he’ll do something drastic that will hurt a lot of people.” Your mother said shakily, and the fear in her face was chilling you to the core, along with the fact that if you looked back you could tell that she was right.

‘What do I know about my grandparents on his side? I’ve never seen a baby picture from him, or even any picture of when he was young! What happened to him that drove him to become the controlling business man that would step on anyone in his way?’ You thought at a rapid speed, finding too many similarities between your reaction to trauma with how he always had acted. If not then more extreme.

“What am I supposed to do?” You whispered, your eyes falling to the cold metal table between you two.

“You have to talk to him,”’ your mother said. “I know you have a way of getting out of here, and when you do, go straight to him and tell no one. . You are his biggest failure in his eyes, and I know you’re the only one who can get through to him.” She squeezed your hand this time, assuring you that what she was saying was true.

“And what about you?” You asked. “Whether I destroy his business or get him the help he needs, you’re still going to lose everything.”

She smiled, “no. I just got everything I needed.”

A/N: We’re getting somewhere :P

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[agoldengalaxy]

deny, deny, deny

read on Ao3

5 times someone told Sam and Bucky they cared about each other, and the 1 time they showed it.

--

1.

“You two bicker a lot,” Dr. Raynor says, eyeing the two men who sit, fuming, on the other side of her desk. “If you won’t speak to each other, then tell me this, instead. James, why would you ignore Sam’s texts?”

Bucky grumbles something under his breath. Sam seems genuinely curious to hear the answer. Raynor glares until Bucky sighs and repeats himself, staring at the floor. “Didn’t wanna bother ‘im.”

“What? I was the one texting you, Bucky! Why would I -”

“Just drop it, Sam.”

“…Fine.”

Folding her hands on her desk, Raynor sighs. She can’t be certain, but Bucky has been her client for a few months now, and she knows it takes a long time for him to tell the truth. In this case, however, she thinks the truth is there, as a small part of it. The way that the tips of his ears redden tell her that there must be more to it.

She isn’t blind. She has a feeling she might know that answer. So she leans forward a little. “Good. Thank you for that answer, James.” Her gaze slides to Sam, whose arms are crossed over his chest as he looks toward the wall. “How does that make you feel, Sam?”

He scoffs. “After everything I’ve done for him, he still -”

“You shouldn’t have given up the shield, Sam.”

“What’s that got to do with anything?”

“Gentlemen, please,” Raynor interrupts, feeling a headache coming on. She blows out a breath. “You’re both big boys now. You can handle this -“ she gestures vaguely, because she knows that they don’t quite understand yet, “- if you just talk to each other. Emotions are powerful things, you can’t ignore them forever.”

Bucky groans. Sam huffs.

They don’t get it. She’s not sure she wants to see them flounder, but she should put it out there, anyway. She leans forward. “Emotions including love, that you may have buried deep below.”

For a split second, she is met with stunned silence, before they both erupt, loudly. Denying, denying, denying, pushing the feelings down even deeper than they had been before despite the way that they fluster.

It’s okay, she tells herself. Deep breath in and out. They’ll accept it soon, someday.

Still, she shakes her head, effectively cutting them off. “No matter what kind of love it is, you care about each other. And that’s the bottom line. Once you cross it, things’ll be a whole lot easier.”

Sam looks at his lap, blinking. Bucky’s cheeks flush pink.

Raynor needs a drink.

2.

“This is really easy for you, isn’t it? All that serum runnin’ through your veins.” John hates the man standing in front of him. Maybe, in another life, they could have been friends. But the stubbornness just pisses him off, so he goes for Bucky’s weakness. He knows Bucky can take being insulted, but there is one thing he won’t accept. “Barnes, your partner needs backup in there.”

He watches Bucky’s cold stare waver, if only for a moment. John takes that opportunity to stand his ground, glancing behind Bucky, to that open door he wants to go through so desperately. Karli is right there, and the only thing standing in his way now is Barnes, and his stupid loyalty to Sam.

Bucky thinks so highly of Sam, he doesn’t have any other choice but to use that one weakness.

So they lock eyes again. “I know you care about him. Do you really want his blood on your hands?”

Beside him, Lemar shifts his weight from one foot to the other as Bucky looks down for a split second. John knows what it’s like. He’d never leave Lemar behind, though he knows with Sam and Bucky, things are a little different. He can feel Zemo’s eyes boring into them now, clearly amused. They wait.

Bucky’s jaw is clenched, every inch of him now rigid. John knows the feeling, and knows perhaps it might have been unfair to put him in that position; he knows he would stop at nothing if it were his wife in that room. That’s almost the equivalent of what Bucky must have been thinking.

But the ends justify the means.

Drawing in a sharp breath, Bucky turns around, his shoulders still tight, and John exchanges a look with Lemar as he speaks. “You’re right. We should help him.”

John’s grip on the shield tightens. Lemar grins. “Maybe you should tell him how you feel,” he suggests as they start up the stairs.

Bucky ignores them both, readying for the fight.

3.

“Super soldiers cannot be allowed to exist.”

“Isn’t that how gods talk?” Sam asks, cool and collected as ever. “And if that’s how you feel, then what about Bucky?”

Zemo carefully removes the ice pack from his forehead, weighing it in his hand as he sits up. He doesn’t know how to feel about Bucky just yet. For now, that question doesn’t have an answer. For now, Steve Rogers is the only exception, and he can’t imagine that changing anytime soon.

Still, he has to have some kind of fun, right?

So he leans forward, resting his elbows on his knees, tilting his head to get a better look at the man sitting at the table, and shrugs. “Why don’t you tell me?”

Sam blinks, eyebrows furrowing. “What do you mean?”

“Come now, Sam, I always thought you were an intelligent individual,” he replies, only slightly teasing. He does like Sam. He’s righteous, level-headed, and doesn’t make any stupid decisions. Except, perhaps, the person he might have chosen to love. “What do you think of James?”

“Is this a trick question?”

“Maybe, maybe not.”

Nodding, the other smiles and looks down, gathering his thoughts. “I think he’s annoyin’ as hell,” he answers slowly. “But...he’s passionate, smart, a big softie deep down...and he always does the right thing even though he’s hurting, too.” He pauses, then adds, “I still can’t tell if breakin’ you out of jail counts as the right thing, though.”

Zemo smirks, leaning back a little, tossing the ice pack from one hand to the other. “You know, when I first met my wife, she hated my guts.”

“Can’t say I blame her, Zemo.”

He chuckles, somewhat sadly, then continues. “These fights that you and James have, over the small things, they are nothing more than just couple’s quarrels.”

Sam’s eyes widen and he turns to look at him fully, as if he’s lost his mind. “What the hell are you talkin’ about? Bucky and I are just -”

“Just what, Sam?” Zemo tilts his head, as if challenging him. This is exactly the reaction he had been hoping for. It isn’t often the calm and collected Sam Wilson loses his cool, and Zemo likes to know he’s one of the ones who can get a rise out of him. “Friends, partners, all these terms you both throw around…” He thinks back to that look on Bucky’s face when John had challenged him, and his smile returns. “Perhaps you ought to think about what you truly want.”

And okay, maybe it isn’t just wanting to get a reaction from Sam. Maybe Zemo has seen the good in both of them, and thinks, perhaps, they ought to be happy, for once. His own partner is long gone, but it isn’t too late for Sam and Bucky.

Sam opens his mouth to respond, but he is cut off by the heavy sound of the door opening, and he immediately falls silent as Bucky walks in, with news that the Dora Milaje are after Zemo. Although Sam recovers quickly, staring at his laptop, Zemo side-eyes him, wondering if he might be blushing.

So Zemo stands up, shaking his head. How juvenile.

4.

Sarah leans against the truck, wiping sweat from her forehead. It’s been hours, and she still can’t believe Sam has managed to pull off receiving this much help. She knows their parents did a lot of favors, but she never could have imagined it would pay off this much one day.

She’s already made up her mind. She can’t sell this boat. It means so much to her, and to Sam.

Her gaze drifts toward the dock, where Bucky is helping Sam carry some things to Carlos. She’s almost certain they’re bickering again, but as they walk, their shoulders almost touch. Sam smiles. It’s something she hadn’t realized she had missed so much.

Seeing her brother smile, and seeing the reason for that smile, is all the evidence she needs to agree to let Bucky crash on her couch. The sun is already dipping closer and closer to the horizon, and she knows people will begin returning home soon. Personally, she has to get the boys to bed. But she lets herself enjoy this moment as long as she can.

When Sam and Bucky place down their loads, Sarah whistles, getting their attention to wave Sam over. Bucky seems to think about following, but is soon distracted by AJ and Cass, excited to meet their uncle’s ‘cool friend.’ Sam chuckles as he tells them to behave, then makes his way over to his sister, a huge grin on his face.

“What’d I tell you? I knew we could make it work,” he says, spreading his hands. Just as confident as ever, she supposes. She rolls her eyes, but for some reason, she can’t stop smiling, and his grin fades a little. “What’re you lookin’ at me like that for?”

Sarah shakes her head. “Nothing. I just missed seeing you so happy,” she admits, because although they tease each other, although they bicker, she loves him. She has no trouble admitting she cares. Seeing the confusion on his face, she hops up to sit on the back of the truck, folding her hands in her lap. “You were gone. For a really long time. And that’s okay, I know what you had to do.” A pause. “When you came back all sad-puppy-dog in the rain that first night, my heart broke. I guess I’m just trying to say I’m glad my brother’s back.”

There’s another pause until Sam comes to sit beside her, so that their shoulders touch. He nods. “It’s been a rough couple years,” he murmurs, and she nods. It has been for both of them.

They gaze at the boys, who are excitedly coaxing Bucky to flex his metal arm, who has a confused look on his face as per usual. Sarah rests her head on Sam’s shoulder, just grateful to know she’s no longer so alone. And then she sits up, turning to face him.

“But enough of that sappy stuff,” she says. “Tell me about Bucky.”

He groans. “Don’t tell me his awful attempt at flirting was actually successful.”

“What?” Pulling a face, she shakes her head. “No, not that. Tell me about him. A guy that makes you smile that much is probably one worth keepin’ around.” She nudges his shoulder and he chuckles a little, his gaze returning to the man in question.

“You’re the second person who’s asked me about him recently.” He seems to collect his thoughts for a moment. “...He reminds me a lot of Riley, sometimes.”

Sarah nods, having expected something like that. “Is it the same?” Sam and Riley had always been close, but she had never seen them get physically close the way that Sam and Bucky did. Sam shakes his head.

“Some things are better. Some things are...more annoying.”

“It’s okay,” she assures, patting his shoulder as she slides off the truck to stand up. “In case you were wonderin’, I still know everything, and I also happen to know he feels exactly the same about you. He cares about you, and I know you care, too, so it’s up to you to do somethin’ with it.” She grins as a stunned look appears on his face, walking away before he can even think of something to reply with.

She hopes they can get their heads out of their asses and realize it. After all, having Bucky around could be pretty helpful.

5.

“I’m sorry for how things ended down there.” A lie. “But for what it’s worth, suit looks good on you.”

Things had gotten dangerously close for Sharon. Too close. Luckily, though, Sam and Bucky haven’t found out the truth. If they had...well, she doesn’t want to think about what she would have to do if that were the case.

But here he is, their new Captain America, standing there in front of her with a soft chuckle and a slight nod. “Thanks.”

“All right, look, can we get out of here, please?” Bucky interjects, sounding...somewhat annoyed, for some reason. Her abdomen hurts terribly, but it’s not like she can’t handle a single gunshot wound. Still, standing around probably isn’t going to do her any good, so she nods and lets Bucky guide her.

They walk in silence for a little while until she looks at him. His gaze is fixed ahead, maybe lost in thought about something. Her eyes narrow a little. “What was that all about?”

“What was what all about?”

“I mean, you basically cut Sam off. Why’d you wanna leave so bad?” Her interest is peaked when she notices that, despite the fact that his expression barely changes, his ears redden.

Bucky clears his throat. “In case you forgot, you’re kind of bleeding out here, Sharon.”

She huffs. “I told you, I’m fine.” Watching him for a moment, she attempts to piece the puzzle together. His eyes hadn’t left Sam since he returned with Karli’s body. Back at her apartment, he’d seemed almost angry when she had complimented Sam without his shirt on. It dawns on her and she smirks. “Oh, don’t tell me you have a crush.”

His ears redden further. She guessed right.

“Don’t be ridiculous. Why would I like you?” Deflecting the accusation and dissing her all in one go. She’s almost impressed.

“We both know I’m not talking about myself.” She grabs his arm, and they both stop walking. He won’t look her in the eye. “Hey, it’s okay, all right? Your secret’s safe with me.” Of course, unless he gets in her way. That’s a bridge she’ll cross if it comes to it. “For what it’s worth, I think he’s a great candidate for you.”

Bucky frowns, shaking his head a little. “...I don’t wanna talk about this.”

Sighing, she nods. “Of course you don’t. Look, you should just go for it. What do you have to lose?”

A flicker of pain flashes across his face. “Everything,” he mumbles, almost inaudibly.

“Sam wouldn’t leave you if he didn’t feel the same. You shouldn’t hide from him.” She winces, then, not quite sure why she’s giving him advice. If he knew the truth, he’d have left her to die. But she doesn’t dwell on that, feeling his hand on her arm to ground her, and they begin walking again.

Bucky doesn’t say anything else, and neither does Sharon. She might have gone down a different path a long time ago, but she still thinks they both deserve to be happy.

Unless, of course, they get in her way.

+1

It’s late when Bucky comes to Sam’s door, knocking quietly before opening it to stand in the doorway, offering a beer out to him. “Fresh air?”

Sam accepts, and they walk outside together, footsteps sounding in tandem on the empty dock. A fresh sea breeze whips past, but not enough for either of them to get cold, the smell of salt filling their noses and the last couple cries of the seagulls before they settle in for the night.

They stop in front of the boat, admiring the work they had done on it together. Sam breaks the silence first. “Thanks for helpin’ out. With everything.”

Bucky looks at him and nods. “You’re welcome.” A pause. “It’s nice here, you know. Quiet. Nothing like New York.”

“Is that a good thing?”

“Yeah, I think it is.”

They gaze at each other for a moment before turning to their bottles. Silence is filled by the quiet crashing of waves in the distance. There’s a tension there that hadn’t been there before; an unspoken understanding of the situation.

Sam looks at Bucky, noticing the way the shadows under his eyes look a little lighter than they had been before. Bucky’s jaw is clenched, showcasing the stubble he’s been letting grow out, and Sam can’t help but think he looks princely.

And Bucky looks at Sam, at the way the moonlight so perfectly etches his features, his eyes bright as they stare back at him. He remembers the way Sam’s eyes crinkle when he smiles, how he reminds him of a sunshine that had pulled him from the deep, dark abyss he had been stuck in after Steve left.

They aren’t sure how long they’ve been standing there, quietly. Two words tear from Bucky’s throat, like he has no choice in the matter. “Sam, I…-”

Instead of answering, Sam steps closer, cupping one of Bucky’s cheeks, smashing their lips together. It’s rough but sweet.  Sam tastes like vanilla. Bucky tastes like beer. And nothing has ever felt so right before.

Sam pulls away and chuckles. “I hope that was what you were gonna say.”

Bucky smiles, though his face is bright red, placing a hand on Sam’s hip to pull him closer. “Somethin’ like that. Want to say it again?”

“I like that idea.”

They suppose they can put the promise of ‘going their separate ways’ on hold for a little while.

[ezrasarm]

Only You

Pairing: Frankie Morales x demi fem!reader

Word Count: 1.8K

Summary: Frankie stands up for you when Tom acts out of line.

Warnings: Conflict, Tom being a dick, swearing, ✨protective✨ Frankie, fluff

A/N: There seemed to be some interest in a continuation of More Than Friends and a thought popped into my head so here it is! This is set an undefined period of time after More Than Friends. If you would like to learn more about demisexuality there are some wonderful resources here at demisexuality.org and my inbox is always open if you’re curious …or you have HC ideas ...or just want to scream.  AH! I almost forgot to thank @dishonouringmycow for beta reading, helping me with ideas and the ‘plot a murder’ line!

[Masterlist]

“You’re a woman, right?” Tom says abruptly from across the table a few moments after the conversation seemed to have lulled itself to a pause. Taking a few moments to notice you were in fact the only apparent woman at the table for him to be addressing, you nodded.

“Last I checked, yeah.” You laugh, as Tom hunches over a little more to look down at his drink. 

“Can I get an opinion on something?” He asks, glancing up at you as he resettled his grip on the bottle between his hands. You give Frankie, who was sat next to you in the booth with an arm looped around your shoulders a subtly confused glance to see if he knew what this was about only to get a shrug in return.

“I’ll try my best,” you say as he reaches for his phone and places it in front of you to swipe between two photos. You didn’t exactly know who they were of, but you recognized what was happening immediately. Tom had talked your ears off about his wife’s affair at this point. He was obsessed and while you, Frankie and the rest of the guys had tried to be supportive at first, it was becoming more and more of a concern to you all. You had thought you would bring it up with him tonight when you saw him but when you got to the bar and he seemed fine- cheerful even, you thought maybe he had made some progress. Maybe you didn’t need to intervene. That was until you looked down at the phone.

“Tom,” You sigh, looking between the pictures of two men you had never seen before. The ones you assumed he suspected his wife was cheating on him with. “I’m not Molly.” You say with a sympathetic look in your eye when you look up at him again.

“Yeah, yeah, but if you had to choose.“ He said, waving away your comment to swipe between the two photos for you again. To choose? Choose what? Which one seemed most likely to wear flip flops instead of sneakers? Which one you would lend a quarter for a shopping cart at the grocery store? Which one you’d choose to help you plot a murder? You knew what he meant but you didn’t see how your answer would help, or if you even had an answer to give.

“I don’t know, they’re both good-looking I guess.” You shrug. 

“Just pick one.” He insists a little more forcefully than before. You knew he wasn’t always the happiest drunk but you had never seen him this way before and you weren’t a fan.

“I think there’s a lot more that goes into your wife’s decision to sleep with another man than appearances.” You interjected. You didn’t know Molly particularly well and you weren’t defending her but you knew Tom hadn’t been acting like much of a husband in recent years and who were you to blame if she went looking for affection elsewhere.

“You’re overcomplicating the question.” He groans in frustration. “Don’t worry about Frankie, he’s got thick skin. He knows you’re looking.” Looking? Looking at what exactly? The ceiling? The ground? The bottom of your glass in hopes that if you couldn’t see him, he wouldn’t see you and you might be able to drop the subject? You’d hardly noticed the way your hand squeezed Frankie’s a little tighter under the table much less if it was reassurance for him or yourself but you could feel your patience running thinner as what had started out as mild irritation morphed into sheer discomfort with the situation. 

“Tom, I know nothing about these people!” You scoff far more defensive than you had been before. You didn’t want to have to make up an answer but you were getting pretty darn close. You could understand aesthetically. Guy number one’s hair was nice to look at, guy number two had kind eyes, guy number one had a little bit of scruff that reminded you of Frankie, guy number two wore a Black Keys shirt that you liked. None of these things made you feel anything though. Not like Frankie did. But Frankie wasn’t the answer to the question Tom was pressing you with.

“No- Just at a glance, gut reaction, which one would you rather fuck?” He says and you’re not sure if your mouth drops from the shock of him asking you that point-blank or at the gall he would need to have had to ask you such a thing in front of your boyfriend but before you can even think to come up with an answer, Frankie steps in.

“Tom!” He snaps. “She doesn’t want to answer the question! Now back off.” He says quite firmly. Something you knew wasn’t easy for him given that he was a close friend and someone he looked up to. He thinks that should be the end of it but Tom is quick to try and wave it off as though Frankie was the one acting out of line.

“C’mon man! Let her speak for herself!“ He says, crossing his arms over his chest and leaning back in his seat a little more. 

“Tom, you’re drunk, you’re pissed off and you’re hurting but that does not give you the right to harass my girlfriend!” 

“Harass your girlfriend? All I did was ask her a question-”

“Her answer is not going to change what happened!” Frankie just shy of shouts, managing to turn a couple of heads from nearby tables. You realize now that the frustration that had been building up over Tom’s pity party for the past three months had been affecting Frankie as bad if not worse than it had you. “It’s not!” He reiterates a little quieter now as though trying to recover from his sudden outburst. “Your wife screwed another man. That fucking sucks but it’s not going to undo itself anytime soon. So I don’t know what you need to do to process that but you’ve gotta get this out of your system and figure out a game plan for what you’re gonna do next because you are making it harder and harder for us to feel sorry for you right now.” Frankie lets out a heavy sigh and a slight shake to his head when he brings the bottle that his grip had tightened on so much throughout the conversation that his knuckles had gone white, up to his lips.

You watch as Tom’s jaw ticks to the side and he smooths a hand over his face, a minuscule nod as his gaze drops to the table. The silence hangs thick in the air for what feels like an eon until Benny shoulders into the booth on the other side of you just about squishing you against Frankie who has since adopted a similar posture to Tom. 

“Who died?” He asks, tossing you a goofy look that makes a smile tempt your lips as you shake your head and Will slides in across the table from you. 

“No one.” You assure him as you graciously accept the fresh drink Will places in front of you. “Speaking of not dead... Anyone heard from Santiago recently? It’s been a while, he’s got me worried.” You say in an attempt to change the topic despite you and Frankie both knowing you had spoken to him hardly 24 hours ago. Your attention seems to slip away from the response though when Frankie’s hand squeezes your knee in a silent thank you and you let your face tug into a soft smile when you look up at him, content that you’ve successfully changed the topic and made it stick.

***

“I’m sorry,” You hear Frankie say from next to you as you make your way out the door armed with the excuse of having to work in the morning when in reality you could sense that you and Frankie both were getting a little tired of being social tonight. 

“For what?” You ask, brows furrowed in confusion as the cool air hits you and you plunge your hands into the pockets of your jacket.

“I’m sorry he was being such a jerk to you in there.” Frankie clarifies and you find yourself stopping halfway across the slowly emptying paring lot to turn and face him.

“He’s going through a lot right now.” You reply carefully, your exasperation from earlier having worn off by now only to leave the pity you had felt when he let his gaze drop after Frankie had told him off. 

“That’s not an excuse for his behaviour though.” Frankie insists and you nod. 

“Maybe not.” You muse. “But I know how much he means to you and I don’t want to get between that.” You shrug. “He needs you.” You say. “He needed to hear that from you.” You clarify, reaching your hand out to lock your fingers in his. Knowing Frankie he’s likely beating himself up over snapping at him like that already when you’re sure his conscience should be clear. He did everything right. “Thank you for standing up for me.” You smile on a lighter note and watch as a similar expression brightens up his features.

“You know I’ve always got your back, right?” He asks and you nod in return, hardly realizing the way your feet have managed to shuffle you closer to him as he dips his head down to kiss you. You can just about feel his breath fanning your upper lip when-

Bonk

The bill of his cap collides with your eyebrow and you both break out laughing, your hand bracing you on his arm as you hunch over in hysterics and you wind up stumbling slightly with the few drinks in you before you bump into his chest which still shakes as he holds you to him in an attempt to keep you both from toppling over. You’ve hardly recovered before he musters a “Is this better?” and you glance up to see the salt-stained cap placed backwards on his head instead which only makes you burst out laughing again as you flip it around to place it backwards on your own head. 

“I far prefer being able to do this anyway.” You hum through your persisting smile when you slide your hands up to tangle your fingers in his messy hair. 

“This is a good look for you.” He teases, eyelids lazy with contentment as his hands grip your hips and tug you just a little closer to him. 

“You’re a dork.” You beam with an amiable shake of your head “Let me kiss you.” You plea and he obliges. 

You pick Frankie.

[Masterlist]

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[peterparker-pickedapepper]

Always You

(Peter Parker/Spider-Man x Stark!Reader)

Chapter 01

A/N: this is set during Homecoming (and eventually FFH) in a universe where Tony isn’t ☠️ bc we don’t acknowledge that trauma here 🙂 also, there are elements from the comics and the older movies, but it’s still in the MCU

———————————————————————

I never meant to find it.

And I wasn’t being nosy either. It was my dads fault, really. Okay so yes, I wasn’t supposed to be in his workshop. But is it my fault he just leaves important things lying around? Mom’s told him to keep it tidy enough times you think it’d be engrained in his brain.

Anyway, the how isn’t important. Not even the why matters. It’s everything that came after.

It was the day my world began falling apart.

The moment I lost all trust—all respect—for the two men closest to my heart.

Now that I know their secret, I don’t see how I’ll be able to look them in the eye. But I’m going to do it. I’m going to keep my head up, act as normal as possible...

And see how long it takes for them to tell me themselves.

———————————————————————

                      Three Months Earlier

“I’m here on the corner of fifth and main, just a street away from the reported sighting of a flying man causing panic among the locals.”

Y/N adjusted her fingers around the smooth base of the microphone, her skin slipping against the hard plastic. It wasn’t nerves causing the dampness on her palms, but excitement. Her eyes flickered from the camera lens pointed in her direction to her best friend standing behind it before easily finding their mark again.

“The large, mechanically winged man has been wrecking havoc in New York’s beloved neighborhood of Queens for the last—”

The ground suddenly shifted beneath her feet with a loud boom, jolting her forward and stopping her report mid-sentence. She twirled around, eyes instantly landing on the sandwich shop across the street.

Or, rather, on the man looming ominously from its roof.

She could only assume it was a man. She’d never seen his face—or any part of his body for that matter—not that his skintight suit left anything to the imagination. But the media affectionately called him “Spider-Man”, so they pretty much filled in the blanks on that one.

She watched as he seemingly surveyed the area. It was always so hard to tell what was going on behind that mask, but every time she saw him she liked to imagine a picture perfect heroic expression etched into handsome features.

It made her disdain for the local superstar a little easier to swallow down.

His head swiveled back and forth a few times, fists clenching at his sides, before he shot one of his webs and disappeared on the other side of the building. She immediately turned back toward her camerawoman, lips pulled into an excited grin.

“This is perfect. Come on.” She wasted no time in scooping up some of the equipment laying at her feet, but stopped short when she noticed the apprehensive expression staring back at her.

“I don’t think I’m really in the mood to run toward danger today.” Her best friend’s bored voice didn’t match the concern she knew was brewing just below the surface.

“MJ,” Y/N all but whined. “We need this story.”

“We need to get ready for next week’s debate.” She muttered, mild annoyance seeping through. “We need to be home in twenty minutes so your dad doesn’t kill us. We need—”

“Okay, okay, I get it.” Y/N huffed, tossing the last of the camera supplies into her bag before slinging it over her shoulder.

She turned on her heel, pulling her phone from her back pocket as she moved toward the last crash that sounded a few blocks away. She was getting this story, whether she had to go alone or not. Screw her father’s arbitrary curfew. He was in India for the next few days, anyway.

“You’re serious?” MJ’s incredulous voice echoed from behind her. “What about Liz’s party?”

Y/N’s attention only wavered from the small screen in her hands once she was finished temporarily disabling the tracking feature her dad had not so subtly installed before giving it to her. He didn’t need to know she almost immediately figured out it was there, just like she didn’t need to know that he got a notification every time she hacked into the system.

Her eyes found MJ’s, wide with shock and following something in the sky above. Y/N’s head snapped upward, gaze locking on the flying man who was twisting and turning aggressively in an attempt to kick Spider-Man off his right wing.

“Yes. Very serious.” She huffed, pulse jumping with excitement. “If FRIDAY calls just, please, try to be convincing.”

With that, she spun around one last time before jogging toward the action. She knew MJ’s hesitation was coming from a good place. They’d been inseparable since middle school because they were on opposing ends of the same strong-willed base.

Where MJ was methodical and calculated, Y/N was rash and unpredictable. They were both the type to end up involved in sketchy situations, just at varying speeds and levels of grandeur. Y/N had her father to thank for that.

The iconic Tony Stark was not a pretender. He was who he was, loud and proud. He’d never apologized for it before—not even when he should’ve—and he probably never would. Y/N, on the other hand, had been pretending to be something she wasn’t for more than a decade.

He’d given her a choice when she was old enough for kindergarten. They talked about it, mapped out the pros and cons, and she made a decision. Soon after, she entered the outside world as Y/N Smith. It was the best thing her five year old brain could think of. Plus, she didn’t want her place on the alphabetical rosters to change.

She went to public schools—something Tony never missed an opportunity to mention he hated—and started paving her own way. Right now, that meant she was chasing a super-powered fight through the streets of Queens.

Since landing a highly sought after internship at The Daily Bugle, Y/N’s main priority had been impressing her overbearing bosses. That came with varying levels of complexity, depending on the superhero shenanigans of the month.

She rounded a corner into an alleyway, instantly ducking down when a blindingly bright object whizzed by her head. Her arms shot up in a protective motion as she leaned against the cool brick wall at her side. She remained there, frozen in place with a racing heart, for several seconds.

Something thumped to the concrete only a foot away from her crumpled frame, nearly making her jump out of her skin. She peeked through her arms, still crossed over her head, eyes widening as they landed on a pile of red and black fabric.

The lump groaned and slowly unraveled to reveal Queens’ favorite masked hero. He shook his head, the mechanical eyes of his suit twitching as if malfunctioning. Y/N was stuck in her spot, wide eyes hungrily drinking in every detail they could. Despite following his activity for months now, she’d never gotten this close to the mystery man.

His suit was tighter than she thought possible. It hugged his body in a way that left nothing to the imagination. The rippling muscles lining his torso were clearly visible beneath the thick material. She watched as he sat back on his heels and rubbed the side of his head, shoulders tensing as he seemed to finally realize that she was there.

“Whoa, hey.” Came his breathy, surprisingly high-pitched greeting. He cleared his throat before continuing, a steady hand extending her way. “Are you okay, miss?”

Y/N’s brow furrowed in curiosity, not missing the way his demeanor changed the moment he noticed her. It was like a flip switched. He’d turned on his superhero persona, a process she was unfortunately all too familiar with.

“I’m fine.” The words came out more forcefully than she’d intended, but she was all business now, too.

There was no way she was letting him out of her sight without getting some information. She wasn’t even worried about all the ways her bosses would kill her, she’d beat herself up enough for the missed opportunity. She ignored his hand, dusting her jeans off and hobbling to her feet before reaching for her phone to launch the recording app.

“Can I ask you a few questions, Spider-Man?” She jutted the phone out in front of her, and he took a step back as if the device would somehow hurt him.

The eyes on his mask widened, something she didn’t know was possible. “Oh. I...uh—”

Just then, the ground shook with a massive impact that couldn’t have been more than a block away. It would’ve knocked Y/N right off her feet if it weren’t for the gloved hand that shot out to stabilize her.

“Gotta go!”

By the time his hasty goodbye met her ears, he was gone. It took about ten seconds for Y/N to process what just happened before she took off running in the same direction he’d swung in. She was too far in to give up now. At this point, she’d settle for some shaky footage of the fight. It’d be enough to satisfy her editors for a few days.

She ran out in the street, stopping abruptly as a stampede of people swarmed her. Elbows and shoulders rammed into her sides as she tried fighting her way through the panic. 

“Oh, come on people! Chill the fuck out!” She found herself shouting to deaf ears. 

Maybe it was because she grew up immersed in the superhero way of life, or her bordering on unhealthy need to get some kind of story tonight, but either way she was aggravated by the public reaction more than anything.

She was rarely scared anymore, even when faced with imminent danger. Admittedly, she didn’t have a good gauge for when she might be getting herself into trouble. Another thing she blamed her father for. 

Her eyes remained trained on the sky, watching the fight unfold in mid-air. She cringed as Spider-Man nearly fell off the homemade-looking flying suit. He quickly regained his balance, shooting a web into one of the back engines. It immediately started sputtering as the metal clanked and caught in the sticky substance. 

They were going down, and fast. She knew this was probably her last chance to get any kind of discernable footage of the event, so she reached into her back pocket for her phone. It was at this moment that someone decided to shove into her so hard that she lost her footing and tumbled to the ground. 

A rush of air left her lungs as she hit the asphalt, hard. She couldn’t help but wince as pain shot up both of her arms. There would definitely be bruises she’d need to hide later. Thankfully, at least she ended up near the curb so she wasn’t instantly trampled to death by the screaming crowd. 

She pushed herself up into a sitting position and huffed, wiping away the tiny rocks that were now embedded into her palms. She was about to hobble to her feet and call tonight a wash when her eyes landed on a blueish-purple glow coming from a nearby alley.

Maybe she wouldn’t get any useable footage tonight, but a souvenir would lift her spirits and, hopefully, her credibility in the office. Without wasting anymore time, she stumbled to her feet and ducked into the darkness of the cramped space.

She followed the pulsating light, stopping only when her eyes landed on a small, metallic object. It had a thin silver cage protecting what looked like a gem or rock of some kind. Nothing too crazy, aside from the whole glowing thing. Her brows furrowed with curiosity as she crouched down to get a better view. 

She had absolutely no idea what it was, and she’d seen a lot of weird things in her dads workshop. The only thing she could compare it to was some of the alien technology that’d been leftover from the Battle of New York. She’d run a few stories about that herself, plus saw her dad tinkering with some things since Thor took Loki back to Asgard.

Figuring she could show it to him at the very least, she pulled the end of her sleeve over her hand and grabbed it. She let her bag slip off of her shoulder and quickly unzipped it before sliding the object inside. 

Just then, the sound of screeching metal filled her ears at a deafening volume. She managed to close her bag before covering her ears and ducking against the brick alley wall. The crowd still surrounding the area screamed in horror.

She watched with wide eyes as the huge bird-man landed on the rooftop just a few feet away from her crouched form. It was the closest she’d been to the masked—villain? She wasn’t sure—and he was far more intimidating than she’d first assumed.

His glowing beady green eyes didn’t so much as glance in her direction as he slung Spider-Man over the edge of the building, the tip of one of his wings wrapped around his throat.

An involuntary gasp tore through her chest.

It wasn’t that she was worried about the hero. For one, she knew he was more than capable of fending for himself. It wasn’t even that she cared if he got hurt. He was mostly an annoyance to her, his illusive nature making her job way harder than usual.

But if she knew one thing in this moment, it was that the bird-man was the bad guy, and she couldn’t let him win.

So, she did something really stupid.

She found the closest thing that she thought might actually do any kind of damage—which was, unfortunately, an old bike helmet next to the dumpster—and chucked it at the pair.

It hit one of the metal wings with a pathetic clink and all three of them froze.

Y/N held her breath as the man’s head turned in her direction slowly. Way too slowly. Like ‘I’m going to really enjoy killing you’ slowly.

After that, everything happened impossibly fast.

“Hey! Watch out!” 

She barely had time to recognize the panicked voice before she was flying. Her stomach flipped and she couldn’t even scream, overcome with sudden vertigo. She pinched her eyes shut the second she saw the top of a building and clutched onto whatever was carrying her away. 

If it was the weird bird guy, she accepted whatever evil plan he had. But, if it was Spider-Man, she was going to kill him.

It must’ve only been seconds before her feet touched solid ground, but it felt like an eternity to her. The moment she felt the stability beneath her, she began fighting against her captor.

“Let me go! Oh my god. If you don’t put me down right now—”

“What the hell—ow!”

Once she was free, she staggered away from him with a huff. She cleared the hair out of her eyes and bent over, resting her hands on her knees as she attempted to catch her breath. Her heart was pounding wildly and her stomach was still doing summer-salts.

She raised her eyes to send a withering glare toward the masked man. “Never do that shit again.”

He stared at her—at least she assumed—for a long moment before taking a step forward.

“What the hell was that? You could’ve gotten yourself hurt.” He gestured wildly with his hands, clearly agitated.

“That’s one way to thank me for saving your life.” Y/N ground out, sounding way more bitter than she would’ve liked.

“Saving my—” The eyes on his mask narrowed incredulously. “You did not save my life. All you did was distract me and put like ten other people in danger.”

She couldn’t help but scoff. “Please. Spare me the morality speech, Spider-Man. We both know you don’t bother worrying about people like me.”

Y/N was all too familiar with how superheroes think. When they’re in the middle of a fight, all they care about is winning. They usually have a bigger mission to accomplish. One that doesn’t concern itself with the lives left behind.

“People like you are all I worry about, trust me.”

With that harsh declaration, a heavy silence fell between them. Y/N clenched her jaw tightly, biting her tongue to prevent the floodgates from opening. Spider-Man wasn’t the only one who deserved her hostility toward superheroes, he just happened to be the one in front of her now.

Instead of speaking her mind, she turned on her heel and stalked away from him. At this point, it was late. The sun had set and her dad surely knew she wasn’t home when she promised. She had to accept that today just wasn’t her day and head back for some damage control.

Peter, feeling his chest tighten with regret for the way he’d snapped, followed closely behind her quick steps.

“Wait!” She actually stopped, something he wasn’t expecting, so he rammed right into her back. His hands quickly wrapped around her biceps as she spun around. “Sorry. I’m sorry. I, uh...”

He didn’t know what to say. This was the second time in one night he’d run into her, but he was still dumbstruck. The circumstances weren’t ideal. He thought he’d lost her earlier, but then she had to go and put herself in danger.

He took a step away from her, dropping his hands and rubbing at the back of his neck nervously. He had to remind himself that she had no idea who he was. Even if he did embarrass himself—like he usually did around her—she wouldn’t know it was him when they saw each other in the halls come Monday.

“At least let me get you home.” He insisted, feeling bad that he’d indirectly kept her out so late.

Y/N pursed her lips, immediately wanting to accept his offer but trying not to give too much away. Truthfully, she was exhausted. She just wanted to get home and deal with the fallout disobeying her curfew would bring so she could get some sleep.

“Alright.” She sighed, pulling anxiously at the straps of her bag. She knew this meant she’d have to swing through the streets again, something she wasn’t nearly ready to do.

Nevertheless, she allowed Spider-Man to walk toward her. She averted her eyes as he wrapped an arm around her back and tried not to let her breath catch when his gloved fingers skimmed the exposed skin of her lower back where her shirt had ridden up.

Warmth enveloped her as his proximity settled in. Under his mask, Peter’s face was burning. This was by far the closest he’d been to his classmate. Or any girl, actually. Not wanting to think about it for a second longer, he shot a web toward a nearby building and followed the directions Y/N yelled out.

Within minutes, they landed on the helipad outside her front door.

Peter felt his stomach drop with realization once he let his eyes wander around the outside of the huge building.

“Oh my god. Is this seriously where you live?” He cleared his throat after squeaking out the question, not necessarily wanting to give away his shock.

“What?” Y/N scoffed teasingly. “Don’t I look like a spoiled rich girl?”

“That’s not—I wasn’t—” He didn’t know what he was trying to say, honestly. There were endless questions flitting through us mind at warp speed.

If she lived here, at the Avengers Tower, did that mean she was one of them? And he just hadn’t met her yet? Or did she work for Mr. Stark? But she was so young. He guessed she could be an assistant or something. Maybe she worked for Pepper? Or Happy? Or, she could—

Y/N rolled her eyes, deciding to spare him the embarrassment of sputtering any more. “My dad is famous...like helped form the Avengers famous.”

Peter’s mind went blank. He wasn’t expecting that.

“Cap?” It was the first name to spill out of his mouth. “Wait, can he even have kids?”

Y/N couldn’t help the giggle that escaped her at his assumption. “He totally can, but no.”

“Oh.” The gears of his brain started turning again and realization slowly dawned on him. He felt his throat run dry as his eyes widened behind his mask. “Oh.”

Shit. This was way worse. He couldn’t believe he had no idea who she really was. Sure, she used a different last name at school, but he should’ve seen the resemblance sooner.

“Look, I know you two have worked together.” Y/N sighed, thinking back to all those weeks her dad was gone fighting Steve and the rest of his friends for no real reason. “Can you just...not tell him about this?”

Peter’s brows furrowed in confusion. Why wouldn’t she want Mr. Stark knowing that she’d been with him?

Either way, he agreed, since he had a favor to ask of his own. “Only if you won’t.”

She gave him this dumbfounded look, and he knew he had to elaborate.

“He made me this suit before the whole thing with Captain America, so I thought he would keep giving me missions, but now it’s been months and he won’t return my calls. I’m lucky if I get through to Happy. He doesn’t want me getting involved in this stuff, so...”

It struck Y/N then how weird it was to hear a superhero talk about her family so casually. It didn’t seem possible that the two of them were in the same circles. Sure, she’d practically grown up with a few of the world’s most famous heroes, but somehow Spider-Man was different.

He was local. And elusive. A pure mystery to her.

“What exactly is this stuff?” She thought back to the weird glowing object in her bag, having almost forgotten it was there.

“I don’t know.” Peter shook his head, seemingly defeated. “I thought it was just neighborhood stuff, but those guns...I’ve never seen anything like it.”

“Alien tech.” Y/N said without hesitation, although she wasn’t actually positive that’s what it was. “My dad has some in his workshop. It was leftover from the Battle of New York.”

“How does it work?” Peter found himself asking excitedly, easily pushing all the other revelations from this conversation to the back of his mind.

“I don’t know.” She admitted, looking away from him as her chest tightened with emotion. “I’ve never gotten close enough to any of it to see. He likes to keep me out of things too...”

It was at that moment, as a breath of silence settled between them, that they realized she was still in his arms. Y/N’s face erupted with heat and she quickly pushed herself away from him. Once her feet were back on the ground, they both stepped backward to create some much needed distance.

“I, ah...better get back...”

“Yeah, yeah. I have to go too...”

They looked at each other for a few long moments. It was at if neither of them truly wanted to separate, but knew they had to. It was clear, though, that they’d just formed some kind of connection.

Y/N felt something strange—and wildly inappropriate—brewing in her chest. A certain kind of attraction toward the masked hero she’d never considered before. It appalled her, honestly. It wasn’t like she hated the guy, but she certainly didn’t like him. And she had no idea who he was. He could be eight years old, for all she knew.

With that realization, she turned on her heel and stalked down the narrow entrance to the Avengers Tower, her face still burning. She heard the thwip of Spider-Man’s webbing and knew he’d be gone if she looked back. So she didn’t.

She pressed her hand against the touchpad outside the front door and quickly slipped inside once it recognized her prints. She sighed heavily and let herself fall back against the door, the comfort of home enveloping her.

The peace was short lived, however, as she caught sight of her mother waiting expectantly behind the bar to her left. With a glass of red wine in hand, her knowing gaze shifted from the helipad outside to Y/N’s stiff frame.

She took a slow sip, eyes narrowing over the rim of the glass.

“You’re so grounded.”

———————————————————————

let me know what you think!! should I continue this series??

[refinedbuffoonery]

Looking Through A Window (7)

macriley married undercover au

masterlist.

Sorry for the delay! I either have my shit together in real life or fandom life, but never both at the same time lol. Anyway, I got endless joy from reading all your reactions to last chapter’s clifhanger (sorry not sorry). I didn’t respond to comments because I don’t trust myself not to spoil anything, but just know that I appreciate every single one of your theories. Also, many of you were at least somewhat correct. (Yikes am I becoming predictable?? Gotta fix that.) This chapter ends at a good stopping point, so I’m going to switch gears and write a couple chapters of other fics (which I encourage you to read!!) before coming back to this. But fear not! I have big plans for the future of this fic, and I’ll send you all down the theory rabbit hole soon enough. xoxo

*****

The world narrows until Mac is only aware of two things: his racing heart and the fact that Riley is gone. 

The blood is fresh, but there’s no sign of a struggle—no sign of anything, really. The windows are locked and unbroken, the bedroom door is half-closed the way it always is. Not a single thing is out of place…except for Riley. 

So, where the hell is she? 

His body goes taut as the worst case scenario plays in his mind. Please don’t be gone, Mac silently begs. Please. 

The apartment is quiet. Too quiet. So when the shower turns on with a loud thunk, Mac flinches. Hard. Without thinking, he scrambles out of bed and lunges for the bathroom door. 

As he bursts through the door, Mac’s awareness shifts to three things: Riley is alive, she’s naked, and she’s screaming. 

“Mac!” She hisses, glaring over her shoulder. If looks could kill, he’d be very, very dead by now. At least her back is to him. “What the hell?” 

Mac barely hears her over the roaring in his ears. He scans her naked body, trying and failing to be professional as he scans for injuries. 

His eyes land on the blood smeared between her thighs, then the thin stream rolling down the inside of her knee. As understanding dawns on him, Mac holds out his own blood-covered hand in silent explanation. 

Riley winces. “Sorry about the blood.” 

Mac still feels a little disconnected from his body when he says, “I was afraid you were dead.”

Embarrassment floods Riley’s face. She begs,“Can we please finish this conversation when I’m not naked and bleeding all over the floor?” Mac’s gaze automatically flicks to the drops of blood between her feet, but he doesn’t move. His limbs are still frozen in place, the way they’ve been since he found her. “Get out!” Riley snaps. 

His own embarrassment finally taking hold, Mac stumbles backward, tripping over the door frame on his way out. 

While Riley showers, Mac busies himself by stripping the bed and washing the sheets and blankets. Not just because it needs to be done, but because it’s easier to process emotions when his hands are busy. It feels like he just experienced the entire spectrum of human emotion in the span of three minutes, and now all these untethered feelings are floating around in his head. As he works, Mac examines them one by one. 

He woke up this morning wanting to cuddle with Riley. Not just wanting to, but comfortable enough to act on that desire. 

When his hand landed in the blood, his brain immediately jumped to the worst case scenario. He is deeply afraid of said scenario. 

Then panic set in, as he desperately tried to prove himself wrong. 

Followed by relief at finding Riley and learning the blood was not from an injury, but from a normal bodily function. 

Then embarrassment, because he freaked out and barged in on her over something he could’ve deduced for himself if only he’d just stopped to think. He’s supposed to be smart, so why couldn’t that big brain of his, as Jack would say, figure this out? 

The answer to that question, at least, comes easily: Because it’s Riley, and he doesn’t always think with his head when it comes to her. 

For example, while he’s mortified at seeing her naked, a part of him wishes she’d been facing the other direction. 

Mac starts the washing machine and decides to do the mature thing and hide in the kitchen for the entire foreseeable future. He spies Harley lying on the couch, gazing out a window. “And where were you for all of this?” he asks. “A heads-up would’ve been nice.” 

Harley stares at him for a few seconds before resuming her vigil, and Mac hears the message, loud and clear: You’re on your own. 

When Riley still hasn’t emerged from the bedroom long after the shower turned off, Mac suspects that she’s hiding too. He doesn’t blame her. 

It’s late morning by the time the laundry is finished, and Mac can’t hide any longer. Clutching the still-warm sheets and blankets to his chest, he cautiously ventures into the bedroom. Riley is lying on the bed with her knees tucked up to her chin, and a pang of sympathy echoes in Mac’s chest. Her eyes are closed, but Mac doubts that she’s actually asleep. 

Dropping the sheets on the floor, he asks, “Are you alive?” 

Riley groans. “No.” 

“Could you please go die on the couch then, so I can make the bed?” She groans again and mumbles something incoherent. “Also you’ll feel better if you eat something.” 

“No I won’t.” She sounds like a whining toddler, and Mac has to stifle a snort. Still, a bit of the awkwardness dissipates. But only a bit. 

“Yes you will. I know you, Miss Hangry.” 

“I’m not hangry.” 

“Says the one who skipped breakfast.” 

“I was hiding from you.” 

“So was I,” Mac confesses. Riley cracks a single eye open at that, just in time to see his cheeks heat. “Trust me, I am way more embarrassed than you.” 

It takes him a second to notice that she’s blushing too. “Wanna bet?” 

Mac starts putting the fitted sheet on the unoccupied side of the mattress. “I didn’t see anything, if that’s what you’re worried about.” Nothing he hasn’t seen before, anyway, but Mac wisely decides to keep that part to himself. “Victoria’s secret is still a secret,” he adds with a wink. 

Riley rolls her eyes. “You did not just say that.” 

“Made you laugh, didn’t it?” Mac gives her a shit-eating grin, and despite her best attempt at hiding it, amusement slips through the cracks in Riley’s unimpressed facade. 

“Whatever. We don’t have to do anything today, do we?” Mac raises his brow at the question. For all the years he’s known Riley, she’s always been more of a ‘suck it up’ kind of person, not a ‘stay in bed’ person. So her question is surprising, if not mildly concerning. 

“Nope.” He pauses. “Are you okay? This isn’t like you.” 

Riley rolls onto her back. “Dude, it feels like someone took a cheese grater to my insides.” 

Mac winces at the mental image. “Ouch.” 

She pauses, as if contemplating her next words before she says them. “I got a new IUD a couple months ago, and this one makes my cramps way worse. I used to be able to ignore them, but this sucks.” 

Not knowing how to reply to that, he squeezes Riley’s ankle in a way he hopes is reassuring. Mac flicks his gaze up to meet hers and finds Riley already looking at him. Her gaze is warm and steady, but Mac can see hints of pain clouding her dark eyes. He thinks it isn’t fair that her body turns on her like this. 

"I'm getting back in bed the second you're done making it," she warns. 

"Go right ahead." 

Riley wanders into the kitchen, and, true to her word, reappears right when Mac finishes smoothing down the comforter, with Harley at her heels. To Mac's surprise, Harley jumps on the bed, waits for Riley to get situated, and then tucks herself into Riley's side. A smile blooms on his face. Riley puts an arm around Harley, pulling the dog into her stomach before moving to scratch her head. When Harley licks Riley’s face in return, Mac suddenly gets the feeling he's watching something private. 

Satisfied that Riley is in capable hands, Mac leaves without another word.

*****

Beneath the weathered wooden conference table, Harley’s head rests on Mac’s foot as she dozes through the Patriots’ council meeting. When they arrived, no one looked more put off by their presence than Conrad, but, true to his word, Ethan welcomed Mac and Riley with open arms and encouraged their participation. A murmur of dissent snaked through the room, but no one openly questioned Ethan’s decision to include them. 

Twenty minutes in, Mac would rather be anywhere but here. The “meeting” so far has been very little business and mostly rehashing some fishing trip a few of the guys went on over the weekend. Mac is holding out hope that it won’t be a complete waste of his time, but said hope dwindles each time someone exaggerates about the size of a fish. 

There’s nothing interesting to look at in the room, save for Riley. No art, no plants, no wall of guns. Not even a clock. Just drab gray walls with no windows. And he doesn’t dare study any of the men for longer than a second or two each. Making an enemy is as easy as looking at someone the wrong way, and Mac has no desire to antagonize the other members of the Patriots…at least not yet. 

Extricating his foot from beneath Harley’s head, he’s just about to make an excuse about needing to use the restroom when Ethan’s phone rings. After quickly checking it, Ethan excuses himself from the meeting with a curt nod to Conrad. Mac understands the look; he’s given and received it countless times himself, after all. Permission to continue without him. Because despite his tendency to toe the line, Conrad is still Ethan’s trusted lieutenant. The exchange is subtle, practiced, and apparently insignificant to the other men at the table, who are somehow still talking about fish. 

When the storytelling finally lulls, Conrad clears his throat. "Let's start with recruitment. Report." No nonsense, right to the point. Maybe he’s tired of the fish conversation too. 

As Conrad steers the conversation through the various items on the agenda, Mac realizes two things. 

One, the Patriots are far more organized than he originally made them out to be. This is no grassroots startup, and their plans go much deeper than protests and parking lot shootings. 

Two, Conrad is careful not to let anyone share too much information, instead asking everyone to give their detailed reports in individual meetings. And it's more than just trying to keep him and Riley in the dark. It's almost as if…almost as if Conrad doesn't want anyone to see the big picture besides himself. 

Mac decides to take his theory for a test drive. "I know I'm new here," he says, "but why have everyone meet with you a second time individually instead of sharing their full reports now? Wouldn't that be a better use of time?" 

Conrad sneers. "On the contrary, boy, why would I waste everyone's time making them listen to information they don't need to know?" 

It takes every ounce of Mac’s self control not to roll his eyes. 

Beneath the table, Riley grips his knee, nails digging in through his khakis. Mac wants to tell her that he’s thinking the same thing she is, but he can’t. The best he can settle for is a brief touch on her arm before needing to do something with his hands to distract himself from the way his skin burns under her touch. He elects to drum his fingers on the table, mostly to push Conrad’s buttons even further. 

If Conrad’s furrowed brow is any indication, it works. 

“Do you mind?” Conrad says with a pointed glare at Mac’s hand. 

Feigning ignorance, Mac replies, “Mind about what?” 

“The tapping.” 

“Oh!” Mac makes a show of sliding his gaze down to his hand before flattening his palm against the table. “My bad.” 

Looking none too pleased, Conrad moves on, but to Mac’s surprise, the man sitting beside him leans in to whisper, “I wouldn’t do that if I were you. He's not the one to piss off." His words are tinged with genuine concern, and under different circumstances, Mac would appreciate the advice. 

"He's a man," Mac whispers back, "just like everyone else at this table." Minus Riley, of course. 

The man presses on. "The previous occupant of your seat was shot point blank for asking too many questions." Mac's brows raise at that. "You're sitting in a dead man's chair." 

Mac pockets that little detail gratefully, but he hesitates before ultimately heeding the man's warning. He fiddles with the button on his sleeve, impatiently waiting for the meeting to end so he can share his theory with Riley. 

What Mac doesn't anticipate is Riley beating him to it, pulling him aside before they're even back in the car. "Conrad's compartmentalizing information," she says in a quiet, confident tone. 

They’re too exposed to be having this conversation. Mac nervously checks for eavesdroppers, but doesn’t spot any. Deeming it safe for now, he replies, "Yeah I thought so too." 

"He's made himself essential. No one else knows how everything works." Riley pauses, eyes catching on something over his shoulder. Barely audibly, she adds, "An asshole and a control freak." He doesn’t need to turn around to know she’s looking at Conrad, not when she has a white-knuckled grip on Harley’s leash. 

"So if we eliminate him…" 

Riley nods in understanding. He’s controlling everything in an attempt to rise through the rankings and seize power. So if they eliminate Conrad, the whole organization may very well come tumbling down in his wake. 

Now they just have to figure out how the hell to accomplish that. 

"What if we help him?" Riley suggests, reading Mac’s mind. 

"What?" 

"We've spent all this time looking for the weakest link, but maybe…maybe we need to attach ourselves to the strongest one." A stray curl falls in Riley's face, and as she brushes it behind her ear, Mac absentmindedly wishes his fingers were brushing it back instead. Riley continues, "I can't believe I'm saying this, but I think we should help him become more powerful than he already is. That way, we can do as much damage as possible when we take him out." 

A man they don't know walks by, and Mac nods in greeting. Waiting for the man to move out of earshot, Mac drops to one knee, giving Harley a good scratch. She wags her tail and opens her mouth in a smile, clearly enjoying the attention. When the coast is clear again, Mac says, "You just made this op so much longer, but I think you're right." 

Riley snorts. "What, is there somewhere else you need to be?" 

Gazing up at the woman before him, the answer is obvious. Not unless you're coming with me. 

*****

In the gray hour before dawn crests over the world, Mac wakes to something tickling his nose. He exhales sharply, trying to blow it away, but the tickle persists.

His face is pressed into the nape of Riley's neck, and a deep inhale causes a few strands of her hair to go up his nostrils. Reaching up to brush Riley’s hair out of his face, he hesitates right before his calloused fingers brush her skin, afraid that even the barest touch will shatter the moment. As soon as Riley wakes, he'll have to hide behind his mask of indifference, and Mac isn't ready to do that yet. 

For as long as he dares, Mac allows himself to imagine what it would be like to wake up with Riley for real, in his own home. He sees her curled in his bed, sheets pulled up to her chin, hears the soft, steady cadence of her breathing, smells the lingering traces of perfume on her skin. 

Riley stirs in his arms, and the vision blurs, moving out of reach. Mac grasps for it, but it evaporates into nothingness as she settles back against him. 

He shifts his focus to the very real sensation of Riley’s body tucked into his. Her back to his chest, his leg slotted between hers, her ass pressed against his—

Shit. 

Mac jerks backward, trying to put as much space between them as possible before Riley wakes and realizes just what she scooted back against. 

Except, in his haste, Mac doesn’t realize there’s a third party present until his foot slams into the small, warm body lying at the foot of the bed. Guilt washes over him at Harley’s ensuing yelp. 

Awake, Riley mumbles, “Did you just kick the dog?” 

“It was an accident!” Mac insists, sitting up. He turns his attention to Harley. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to. You can come back if you want.” He pats the bed in a way he hopes is reassuring, but Harley merely eyes him with suspicion before slinking out of the room. 

“I can’t believe you kicked the dog,” Riley says, still half-asleep. “She finally slept with us, and you betrayed her.” 

“I told you it was an accident!” 

“Betrayal.” 

Mac rakes a hand through his hair. “You’re never going to let this go, are you?” 

“Nope.” Riley sighs, rolling back to her side of the bed, and Mac isn’t sure whether to be relieved or disappointed. Or maybe a little bit of both. “You better go apologize.” 

Mac scoffs. “And let you take over the entire bed while I’m gone? I don’t think so.” 

And there it is. The closest they’ve come to acknowledging the evolution of their bed-sharing habits. Particularly the newfound lack of sticking to their respective sides. If he’s being honest with himself, Mac doesn’t know where to go from here. He wants to see it as a sign of things changing between them. Obviously Riley is aware of their precarious positioning, but based on her casual relocation, she doesn’t see this any differently than the dozens of times they’ve slept squished in a small space together in the past. Whether she’s aware of the other thing, she doesn’t let on. 

“Your funeral,” Riley says, pulling Mac out of his head. 

Right. 

The dog. 

The dog whose forgiveness he needs to earn via extra breakfast. Maybe extra dinner too. 

Sighing, Mac goes after her, cursing his inability to get things right with either of the females in this house. 

.

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[enigmainvestigations]

**The events of this mini-episode take place after the events in Season 1, episode 12. AO3 post: ???    Series link: ???

Season 1 Mini-Episode - The Most Dangerous Enemy

The bats above him screeched as he exited the Batmobile. The engine’s rumbling always agitated them, but by the time he’d climbed the steps up to the large computer tucked into one of the cave crevices, the bats had started to quiet down. Batman entered his personal code on the keyboard and pressed his hand into the handprint identification reader next to it. The computer turned on with a lazy hum, and the area was flooded with the red light emitting from the multiple screens as they flickered on.

After a few agonizing minutes, a message popped up on one of the screens. Batman leaned forward on the computer console and pressed the authorization key to download the file. Oracle had finished her search of the city records -- lightning fast, as usual. After a few more impatient moments, the files popped up on the screen and he typed in the code for the computer to begin analysing the information. He scowled as he saw the results of her investigation; with this amount of data, it was going to take a lengthy amount of time for the interface to complete the search. It seemed he was in for a long night, again.

In the distance he heard a motorcycle approaching, followed by the sound of the south entrance’s door rising out of the water. The bats stirred once more, and by the time the bike had pulled up to its platform, they were in full upset. The sound of footsteps filled the cave behind him, followed by a drawn-out yawn from his partner. Then Robin appeared beside him, and the teenager’s attention immediately fell on the screen before him, scanning the information.

“Wow. That was fast.” Robin said.

“She’s good at what she does.” Batman responded, continuing to watch the slow progress of the analysis.

“Good? I thought you said she’s the best?”

“She is.”

Robin smirked. “Any more information on Two-Face?”

“He went off the grid again.”

“We really need to figure out how he’s doing that.” Robin said, stretching.

“He’s avoiding any of his previous connections. It just makes it more difficult to follow him, but not impossible.”

“I don’t blame him, but he’s not just avoiding his friends. He keeps vanishing. He’s figured out some way to disappear right under our noses.”

“As long as we get to his next target before he does he won’t have time to vanish.”

“If you say so.” Robin rested his staff against the side of the computer. “Has he let anything slip about why he’s targeting the locations?”

“No. But the computer will find the connection.”

“You still think he’s doing all of this because he was locked up during the attacks?”

Batman didn’t look at his partner, but the muscles in his neck clenched. “Yes.”

“All of this chaos, just because he feels emasculated,” Robin said in a huff.

“It’s more complicated than that, Robin.”

“Doesn’t sound like it is.”

At that, Batman decided to drop the conversation. Robin was right: it was a childish and emotional reaction, but those are some of the most dangerous ones. And with all the damage he was causing, it sounded wrong to trivialize Dent’s motives, and the subject had started to make him uncomfortable. Robin took the hint and wandered off for a time, eventually returning with a large glass of water -- which he downed half of right away.

Batman eyed him briefly, then resumed his impatient glare at the screens. “You’re back early again.” Robin grumbled in response and finished the rest of his water. Batman decided to continue with his assumptions. “Nigma kicked you out again, didn’t he.”

“Actually, no. I had a normal departure this evening.”

“Why did you call Batgirl to his apartment?”

Robin paused. “We’ll have to talk about that in a minute. I’m currently waiting for an update from her.”

“I thought you were calling for back-up.”

“No, no, it’s not that. Nigma hasn’t escalated to throwing fists or anything foolish like that. He was… actually pretty decent tonight. Bizarre, but decent.”

Batman watched as the computer began segmenting some of the data to one of the other screens, and he leaned forward to give it a brief read. “Bizarre?”

“Yeah. I’ll explain it all to you in a minute.” Noticing Batman’s brief look of impatience, Robin said, “I’m just testing a theory. I’d like to have that answered before I delve into all of this.”

“After what happened the last time, I’m surprised you went back.” Batman admitted.

Robin ruffled his wind-beaten hair. “Not going to lie, that thought did enter my mind. But, hopefully, a dramatic scene like that won’t happen again.”

“Why is that?” Batman asked, reading over more of the segments the computer found in the documents. It looked like his theory that Dent was targeting his previous associates was holding true, and if it was, it shouldn’t be too difficult to predict his next hit.

“I set up some boundaries with him.” Robin said in another yawn.

Batman paused. He pushed himself off of the computer console and stared directly at his partner. Robin looked startled by the attention, confusion clear on his face. “What?” he asked, but Batman just continued with his unnerving stare.

“What?” Robin asked again. “You're looking at me like I said something stupid.”

“You… set up boundaries, with Nigma?” Batman tried to clarify.

“Yes.”

Batman frowned. “What kind of boundaries? Personal boundaries?”

“Yes.” Robin drew out the word as he said it, and Batman returned to his silent stare. His partner let out a huff in confusion, “Why, what? Stop looking at me like that, you're freaking me out.”

“What were these boundaries?”

“Just -- normal human boundaries.” Robin could tell that answer just upset his partner more and elaborated. “I told him to stop taking out his frustrations on me. That I wasn’t going to put up with that anymore. I explained it in a way I think he understood, that it was stalling the investigation and it’s a complete waste of time. He seemed to understand.”

“And Nigma agreed to adhere to your boundaries?”

“Yeah.” Robin answered, and as Batman returned to staring, the boy hissed. “Stop looking at me like that, you're making me think I made some sort of mistake.”

“No, Robin. That's not it -- it's... continue.”

Robin gave an animated shrug. “There isn't much else to add.”

Batman’s frown deepened. “You're telling me, you set up an expectation to be treated fairly by Nigma and he agreed to your terms? And that was it?”

Robin made a slight grimace. “Well, that sounds nicer than what actually happened. He was still a huge jerk about it.”

“What did he say?”

“He made the insinuation that I was expecting him to cater to my every whim, y’know, instead of just treating me like a person. I asked him to stop being so dramatic about it, and -- he did look angry about that -- but, he agreed, and then he wanted to change the subject. That’s about it.”

Batman began the stare again, but his partner hurried to set down his empty glass as Batgirl’s voice came through on their earpieces saying: “B2 to R.”

“Go ahead, Steph.” Robin replied.

“Well, he didn’t stay inside.” Batgirl reported, triggering a grunt from Robin as she spoke. “But all he did was go down to the bar next door. Then he went back inside his office. But, now we have another problem.”

“Great, what now?” Robin asked.

“Harley showed up. She went up to his place, but they’re not screaming at each other like last time. And,” Batgirl stressed that word, “there’s a car parked across from his building now.”

Batman looked at Robin, who gritted his teeth. “Great. Are they just watching him? They’re probably looking out for you, so stay out of sight.”

“No worries there, Boy Wonder. They haven’t seen me, and they look kinda spooked. I think they’d be more scared to see me up here, think they’d just run off.”

“Don’t chance it.” Robin said, and Batgirl sighed.

“Stop pestering me, I’m not so green anymore.”

“Stay out of sight, Batgirl.” Batman cut in, and the two adolescents went quiet.

“Will do. I’ll keep you posted on any developments.” Batgirl responded, before the line went silent once more.

Batman turned to face Robin, now giving him his full attention, only barely registering the computer’s blips as it continued its analysis.

“Bizarre.” Batman said.

Robin blinked. “What?”

“You said he was acting bizarre.”

“Oh.” Robin gave a brief nod. “Yeah, but, like I said, I kind of get why.” His partner took a deep breath and leaned against the computer stand, signaling this was going to be a long discussion. “Remember how Nigma went nuts on me the last time?” Seeing Batman’s confirming nod, he continued. “Apparently I was right. He was scared, and really rattled. Echo and Query are back in town.”

“I heard.”

Robin frowned at that. “Well, did you know that they’re working for Penguin?”

Batman’s white eyes narrowed into thin slits upon hearing that information. “No.”

“Yeah. And, he’s posted them outside of Nigma’s place.” The two of them exchanged a serious look before Robin spoke again. “Nigma told me that Penguin has been threatening him. Not verbally, as far as I can tell, but he’s been showing signs of it. He’s had men following him around the city, watching his every move. So, I don’t know what the hell that meeting at the Iceberg Lounge was all about, but it’s starting to look like the others are turning on him, Batman. I think we might be wrong, I don’t think they’re working together.” Robin crossed his arms, giving Batman a firm look. “He was scared, Bruce. That night, he looked terrified. I’m starting to think that if all of this ‘private investigator’ stuff is some Riddler plan, the others aren’t in on it.”

Batman slowly let out a breath through his nose. “If Oswald is targeting him then that means he knows something Oswald doesn’t want spoken about.” Batman’s gaze wandered around the cave as he thought. “Has Penguin tried to take him out, or is he just threatening?”

“Well…” Robin began, but then he paused for a moment. “This is when things get bizarre.”

Batman gave his partner an expectant look. “Go on.”

“Nigma kinda had a meltdown, at least, that’s the best way I can describe it. He let some of that wall of his drop, and he told me a lot of things that I’m pretty sure he wouldn’t have under any normal circumstances.” Seeing the immediate attention Batman gave him, Robin smirked. “He said that Penguin keeps tightening the grip, so to speak. That he keeps turning up the heat but not acting on the threats. Which Nigma determined means that he doesn’t actually want Nigma dead, he’s trying to intimidate him.”

“Why?”

“He said he doesn’t know why, and I think I believe him about that. He was -- Bruce, he was completely out of his mind trying to figure it out. You should’ve seen him, talking a thousand miles a hour, talking with his hands and rambling.”

Batman pondered that information for a moment. “I can see how you’d think he was being honest. Edward has always preferred to have all the answers, that’s most likely part of Oswald’s plan.”

“Exactly.” Robin went silent, thinking over what else he needed to say. When he spoke again, he himself sounded rather bemused. “There’s another thing, well, two other things. I’m sure you’re still wondering why I called Batgirl, the thing is… Nigma told Query and Echo he’s working with us -- screamed it at them, to be more specific.” Batman’s eyes widened at that information, and Robin could see the apprehension in his expression. “Yeah. So, now the Penguin knows about this little test of yours.”

“Why?” Batman wondered. “Why did he do that?”

“That goes into the other subject, the one that makes me think it's possible he’s being truthful. He told me that he had no idea why he told them, that it just came out and he didn’t have a reason. But, that he knew somewhere in his brain there was a reason.” Seeing the look on Batman’s face, Robin chuckled. “I know the feeling, trust me. That’s really when the meltdown happened. He said that he’s been having a really tough few months, he said something about his mind attacking him all the time. That his doctor told him to be more truthful, to be honest with other people.” Robin pushed himself off of the computer stand and uncrossed his arms. “He said that he’s tried it in the past and he does feel better, so that was the solution he jumped to when he was put in such a tough spot. At least, that’s what I got from all of that rambling.”

Batman remained silent for a time, finding it difficult to believe most of that information, but his partner was right, it made sense. “He’s listening to his doctor.”

“He’s talking to his doctor.”

Batman turned away from Robin, and his gaze wandered over the cave again. He watched the water drops from the stalactites above drip onto the platform before him, listened to the humming of the computer, as he processed this new information against his theories. “This doesn’t make sense,” he muttered.

“Unless he’s actually trying to get help with something. He didn’t explain it very well, but I think he’s having flashbacks. At least, that’s what it sounded like -- kind of.”

“Nigma would know what flashbacks are.”

“True, but it is Nigma. He thinks everything he experiences is unique and one of a kind. He might not be able to see it for what it is.”

“No. I’m not buying that.” Batman’s frown deepened again. “He said his mind is attacking him?”

“Yep.”

“He used those exact words?”

“He said: My brain is usually my best friend, but now it's attacking me non-stop.” Robin let out a heavy sigh. “I’m not saying I believe everything he said, but, if this was an attempt to manipulate me, it was a very poorly orchestrated one. Most of what he said didn’t make sense,” he paused for a moment, “but, it sounded like he wasn’t talking to me.”

“He was talking to himself, just through you.” Batman added, and Robin nodded.

“Which is exactly what you said he does to you all the time. That’s why I believe it, I don’t think he was trying to convince me, he was trying to figure it out for himself.”

Batman went silent again, his gaze wandering off to look at nothing in particular. “Or he could just want you to come to that conclusion. He’s got to be up to something.”

“Well, when you figure out what it is let me know, because I can’t figure it out.” Robin was about to walk away from him, but a swift look from his partner stalled him.

“You’ve seen nothing? Heard nothing out of the ordinary while in his apartment?”

“No. I’ve told you everything, every single thing from every time I’ve seen him.”

“He has to be hiding the evidence.” Batman said, and his gaze wandered off once again.

“If he is, he’s doing a damn good job of it. That office is so small and pretty bare, and I told you, I haven’t seen any evidence that he’s hiding things in the walls or the floor. He also doesn’t really go anywhere, so I find it hard to believe he’s concocting this whole plan of his at another location.”

Batman looked back at his partner, a scowl forming on his face. “Nigma is very good at making things look a certain way to throw you off the trail. He’s good at hiding in plain sight, at using your preconceptions against you.”

Robin stared at Batman, pressing his lips together as he thought. “I get that, I do. I’m not saying I don’t think he’s planning something. All I’m saying is that I think it’s a possibility that we were wrong. All that means is that we need to start looking at it differently, maybe from a perspective we haven’t before.” He paused, taking a few deep breaths through his nose. “Bruce, he can be trying to work through something with his doctor, and planning something at the same time. It’s possible. We have no idea what happened to him on that island. He might just need some help dealing with it.”

“The idea of Nigma going to anyone for help --” Batman stopped himself; the words he was about to say felt wrong, and he forced himself to rethink his position. “Nigma thinks he has all the answers. He doesn’t feel the need to go to anyone else because they couldn’t tell him anything he doesn’t already know. That’s how he sees the world.”

“I know, that’s what you’ve always said. But, again, maybe it’s possible things have changed for him, and he’s run out of options to work on them, at least on his own?” Robin pondered out loud.

Batman’s scowl intensified. Robin wasn’t understanding the full scope of this; he needed to explain the gravity of this troubling situation. “Him going to someone for help is potentially very dangerous.”

Robin blinked. “Uh, okay? Explain that one, please.”

Batman’s back straightened, his expression turning more serious as he chose his words carefully. “If Nigma has decided to turn to a professional for help, it could mean he’s become more self-aware. It means that he’s learning, and Nigma learning new information is never a safe prospect.” Batman glanced back at the computer screen; the search of the last few files were almost complete. “I might’ve been wrong. He might have changed his tactics.”

Robin stepped closer to his side, and Batman could feel the anxiousness seeping off of him. “Mind explaining that a bit better?”

Batman returned his attention to his partner -- the boy’s expression was one of concern, but mixed with a layer of distrust. He understood why. He must sound too pessimistic in his worries, but this was a situation he’d feared would occur for a long time now, and he needed Robin to understand his reasoning. Batman looked Robin in the eye, hoping for his partner to grasp the truth behind his words. “If Nigma is breaking down his own walls and learning what his weaknesses are, it’ll make him very difficult to stop. I’ve always used the same strategy with him: exploit his vulnerabilities. No matter how much he tried to adapt to my solutions, he could never fully match up with them -- because the issue wasn’t me, it was him. He was so self-centered, so convinced he was superior that he couldn’t see the obvious holes in his logic. If he’s realized that he does have weaknesses, that his own issues are what’s been holding him back all this time, and he’s actively trying to rid himself of them --”

“Then…” Robin interjected, his expression more concerned now. “Are you saying you don’t think you’d be able to stop him?”

“That’s what I’m worried about.”

The two crime-fighters stared at each other. Robin looked surprised by the admission, but his demeanor shifted after a few moments. Batman frowned, knowing that look all too well. The boy thought he was being too dramatic and he was skeptical of the rationale.

The computer blipped beside them. It had finished its analysis, and Batman turned his attention back to the screens. Three locations popped up, one of which was a clear possibility for Dent’s next attack. Robin picked his staff back up, giving Batman an expectant look, and Batman gave him a confirming nod in agreement. As the two began to descend the stairs to the Batmobile, Batman felt an anxiousness seep into his bones. The fear of what Nigma was up to gripped him, and he hoped he would be able to rid it to focus on the current case at hand.

Robin hopped into the passenger seat, the skepticism still clear on his face. He turned on some of the trackers on the car’s console and said, “I don’t know. I know you know him better than I do, but, all of that seems way too calculated for what he’s currently doing.”

Batman climbed into the car, a low growl of disagreement escaping his lips.

“I’m serious, Batman. If he was using his doctor to make him into some unbeatable super-criminal, I doubt he’d be starving and killing his brain with alcohol.”

Batman frowned as the car’s engine revved and the bats began to shriek. “I’ll admit, I can't explain the drinking.”

Robin looked at him, his brow rising. “Really. In all your years working with criminals you've never seen someone deal with problems by hiding at the bottom of a bottle? And it'd make sense, actually, if what he's saying about the flashbacks is true…”

But Batman really didn’t want to hear anymore of Robin’s theories about the evidence. He closed the hood of the Batmobile, revved the engine to signify the end of the discussion, and as his partner readied himself in his seat, he sped off toward the cave exit. As they neared the hidden passage door, Batman decided he was more than willing to see whatever distractions Two-Face could provide for the evening. Hopefully it would be enough to get his mind off of that disturbing hint of a notion that maybe, just maybe, Robin was actually onto something.

[abbysfrenchbraid]

Kissed by a Wolf - Chapter 4

Masterlist 🌿 (check for previous chapters) / Playlist

In this chapter, the reader fully joins Eivor’s clan and takes part in the celebrations before the raid. Talking with Eda does not go as planned.

Content Warnings for food & alcohol, mentions of physical abuse, lesbophobia, light smut and vomit.

Inspo Picture by @anaakeart​

The Sting of Rejection

You had already slept for a few hours when Eivor returned from her council meeting late at night. Even though she tried to be quiet and not to wake you, you were awake as soon as you heard her steps on the path outside.

Birna had curled up in your arms and raised her head when the warrior entered, not moving from her warm and comfortable spot. You remained still, your eyes closed as you listened to the woman’s movements. Her fur coat fell to the ground almost inaudibly, the wood of her trunk creaked quietly as she sat down to take off her boots, her leather pants rustled when she pulled them off and threw them in a corner.

Then you finally felt her motions, too as she lifted a corner of the quilt covering you and slipped in the bed, immediately scooting close to you. She gave Birna a few gentle strokes until the cat started to purr softly and Eivor lowered her head next to yours with a satisfied sigh. She smelled like beer and smoked meat, accompanied by that faint, wonderful scent of tree bark.

You must have stirred because Eivor lifted her head again, whispering: “Little bird… there are good news for you.”

Careful not to disturb Birna, you turned slightly and looked at her with raised eyebrows. She smiled.

“You are now one of us. Mine.” She watched your face attentively for a reaction. You closed your eyes and swallowed. So it was decided.

“Are you happy?” Eivor asked, drawing her fingertips over your healthy cheek.

“Yes, I am,” you answered, turning back around and scooting back against her.

“Mmhh. We’ll talk in the morn.” She wrapped her arms around you and pulled you close, then you both drifted off to sleep.

-

You were woken by Birna's demanding meows at the door. She had not left the hut since yesterday and was probably hungry and in need of a quiet corner. Eivor grunted, then she untangled herself from your limbs and cursed in her mother tongue when she stumbled over her clothes on her way to let the cat out.

“You won’t like it outside, little lady. The snow has stayed,” she grumbled as she opened the door. Indeed, Birna was not amused at the prospect of stepping into the cold, wet powder that painted the village in beautiful white and whirled into the room as soon as the door stood ajar. You pulled the blanket over your head to escape the stinging cold air, listening to Eivor and Birna bicker about the cat’s options for the day.

It really sounded like they were having a conversation, one that ended with Birna leaving with a last, angry cry and Eivor shutting the door with a thankful sigh. She let herself fall back on the bed and crawled under the covers. You stuck your head out.

“So, I’m one of you now?”

Eivor needed a moment to process your question, then she sat up and nodded.

“The council was thankful for your offer to help us prepare the raid and accepted your proposal. You’re going to come with me later so you can have another look at the map and tell us everything you know. In return, you will receive a wooden bangle declaring you part of this clan and my personal servant as soon as we return.”

You sat up as well and leaned against the headboard, fidgeting with the edge of the blanket as you tried to find the right words.

“I am very grateful for your trust. I know it normally does not come easy,” you said. “May I ask something else of you?”

The blonde raised her eyebrows with a questioning look.

“My- the people who came with me. How are they?”

“Oh, they are all well.” Eivor got up and started putting on her clothes. “Three of them have decided to stay with us freely and work in the stables and the longhouse. Two have yet to decide and your lady friend is refusing to speak to us. I hear she is eating, at least.”

A wave of relief washed over you. You were not the only one to change sides. You were fairly sure you knew who had taken up work in the village; the two remaining prisoners were probably the squires to Lord William. They had endured harsh treatment at his hands, but he had promised them a future as knights and held them in higher regard than his own daughters. It made sense that Eda was not willing to speak or change her mind. She blamed Eivor for the death of her entire family.

“Eivor?”

“Yes, little bird?”

“Do you think I could have a word with Eda? Maybe I can reason with her,” you suggested, holding your breath as you waited for her reaction. She considered it for a moment, then she shrugged and put on her coat.

“I guess it would do no harm. You can speak with her before we meet the others in the map room, maybe she will tell you something helpful.” She turned around. “Do you want to join me in the longhouse for breakfast?”

The question surprised you, but she was right. You were healing fast, and there was no reason for you to stay in bed any longer. You agreed and swung your legs out of bed, slipped into your wooden clogs and put on your new coat over the linen tunic. Hopefully, you would be able to acquire some more fitting and functional clothes soon, but now was not the time to worry about looks. Your face was still swollen and blue anyway, your bruises now starting to fade to green at the edges.

You quickly rubbed the salve Valka had given you on your tender cheek, then Eivor held the door open for you and you stepped outside into the snow. The air was hard and cold, but clear and when it filled your lungs, you could feel it chase out the last remains of smoke and illness. Walking down to the longhouse, two dogs ran toward you and circled you with excited barks and wagging tails, apparently delighted to see Eivor. She laughed and chased them around for a bit, then she told them she had other things to do and they let her be and ran off towards the stables.

When you entered the longhouse, Eivor was immediately greeted by cheers and excited comments regarding the coming raid. She smiled and acknowledged everyone’s words before leading you to a side part of the house. There was a fireplace in the center of the area, a hole in the roof directing the smoke outside. A kettle and a metal grid were hung over the fire and an old woman was stirring porridge with a gigantic wooden spoon. You both stepped closer.

“Sfáva, dette er Y/N,” Eivor introduced you, gently placing a hand between your shoulder blades. “She is from Williamsburg and has decided to join us. She is a cook, too."

The old woman slowly came closer, squinting her eyes at you until her face was almost directly beneath yours. Then she suddenly gave you a warm, almost toothless smile, deepening the crows’ feet around her eyes and stretching the leathery, weatherbeaten skin on her cheeks.

“Velkommen, Y/N,” she croaked and took your hand, patting it lightly. She chattered something in Eivor’s direction and the warrior translated: “She’s glad to have you here and hopes you can show her some English cooking. She does not speak your language, but she understands a few words and can grasp your meaning if you speak slowly. Our tongues are not too different.”

You smiled back at Sfáva, gently squeezing her hand.

“I’m honored to work by your side, Sfavá.”

The old cook let out a delighted laugh at your proper pronunciation of her name and gestured for you to take a wooden bowl. You and Eivor both took bowls and spoons from a table and Sfavá filled them with porridge. Eivor loaded up her meal with several sausages from the grill, to which you passed.

“I’m afraid we can’t eat together. My place is up there” - she mentioned to the table at the back of the room, standing orthogonal to the rest of the tables - “with my brother. I see your old companions have found themselves over there, maybe you would like to join them?” She motioned over to where the three men that had been released as well sat and ate their breakfast.

You nodded and wished the warrior a good morning, then you walked over and sat down with the others. Aelfric and Hal had been the stable masters back at Williamsburg and were excited about the variety of horses and possibilities here. Eivor had apparently put a lot of money and work into the stables, making them a much more enjoyable place than the dark, moldy ramshackle hut William’s old mares had spent their days in. Lewin was also content with his situation; he had joined the butcher and his son in preparing meat for winter.

They were all happy to see you, thanking you for your quick thinking and cautious behavior during and after the attack. Lewin was even convinced they owed you their lives. While they went on discussing the possibilities of hunting at this time of the year, you stared into your porridge and tried to find the words and the courage for a conversation with Eda.

What could you say that would explain to her your disloyalty to her name, your treachery to England, your betrayal against her after everything you had gone through together? How could you ever change her mind or her situation, what were your possibilities in this? Would she stay locked into a cell for the rest of her life? What would the Vikings do with her if she was nothing but a nuisance?

The others took their leave and you were still none the wiser. Absorbed in your thoughts, you let your gaze wander through the long hall. Your eyes finally got caught on the she-wolf at the elevated warriors’ table. She was deep in conversation with Sigmund and tapping her finger on the table as she made her point to him. He seemed to agree with everything she was saying, consistently nodding his head as he devoured his sausages.

Suddenly, Eivor caught your gaze and while she kept talking, her finger stayed pressed to the wooden tabletop. You could have sworn there was a hint of a smile on her face as she turned back to her brother to ask him something. Shaking your head, you got up and brought your empty bowl back to Sfáva’s side table.

Even though her eyesight seemed to be terrible, she immediately recognized you and repeated your name with a joyful fondness in her voice that made your heart swell in your chest. What a wonderful woman.

As you wandered around the hall to collect the dirty bowls people had left on the tables, you felt someone’s eyes on you. Smiling to yourself, you relished at the feeling a little bit longer before turning around to return Eivor’s look. To your surprise, she had stood up and turned her back to you, speaking with someone behind the table.

Slightly bewildered, you finished your round and carried the stash of bowls and spoons back to the cooking area. Just as you turned to ask Sfáva where you should wash the dishes, you saw something blue in the corner of your eye. You looked up and had to force yourself to keep your composure as you saw Randvi leaning against a wooden pillar across the hall and watching you from afar, her arms crossed and her face smooth and expressionless.

She did not move or look away when you saw her, standing perfectly still and continuing to look at you as you finally lowered your gaze and asked Sfáva about your tasks for the day. The old Viking explained her wishes to you with a mix of slow Norwegian and sign language, making it clear you should wash the bowls outside in a big trough and bring her another few sacks of flour. You felt uneasy as you left the longhouse to do your washing up, still followed by Randvi’s piercing gaze.

Eivor caught you outside, glad you had already settled in with your new work and thrilled for the raid. She was practically buzzing with excitement and her restlessness made you laugh, taking your mind off the strange moment with Randvi.

“What are you laughing at, eh? You are looking at a proud drengr, not a jester!” she exclaimed, furrowing her brows in feigned outrage and making you laugh even harder.

“You remind me of Eda and Delia on the eve before Christmas. They were so excited for the next morning, they could barely sleep.” Your gaze lost itself in the dirty water in the trough before you. You had some good memories with the two girls. They had been so innocent and happy. A hand on the small of your back drew you back to the present. Eivor had stepped closer.

“I will sleep like a bear in winter so long as you lie by my side,” she said quietly.

Her words and touch sent chills up your spine. Before you could reply, Eivor stepped back.

“But first, we will plan our glorious raid. And then we will celebrate. Oh Y/N, you will love it. Mead and food and great songs - we will be in good spirits tonight. And tomorrow will be even better!” Her eyes lit up at the thought of the joy and glory to come. “I need to look at a few things in the stables. Take this time to speak with your friend. I will come and get you when it is time to meet over the map.”

You watched her as she walked away, a spring in her step as she headed for the wooden building at the far end of the village. The dishes were clean, so you took them back inside and left them on the table for Sfáva. She was deep in conversation with two other Norse women when you filled another bowl with porridge and two sausages and quietly made your way to the cell in the back of the longhouse.

Eda sat on the floor where you had left her last. Her dress was dusty and stained, her hair was matted and her face looked grey and old. Dag, who was keeping watch again, let you in with a grumble and sat back down on his chair. Eda refused to look at you as you knelt down before her and offered her the food.

“Eda, please. You must eat. You look like death itself.”

“I don’t fear death,” she mumbled, still staring at her hands, “I fear traitors and backstabbing snakes.”

Her words knocked the air out of your lungs. You had not expected her to be this hostile. What now?

“I do not claim to know the pain you feel and the losses you are bearing. I am simply trying to live with dignity instead of wasting away,” you explained, tears welling up in your eyes. “Do you not see my face? Were you not there when I learned I was worth nothing at Williamsburg, nothing but dirt on your father’s shoe? Eivor has offered me a place in this world. She-”

“You and your precious Eivor!” Eda snapped, her gaze now burning right through your head and her face screwed up into a hateful grimace. “You fell to your knees the second you saw her, begging for her to take you. I will not be lulled into submission by a filthy little sapphic whore!”

This blow hurt worse than William’s fist. There was nothing left to say. You put the bowl down next to her, then you stood up and left the cell. Dag gave you a strange look when he locked the door again.

Just as you rounded the corner, you bumped into Eivor. She knew something was wrong right away, pulling you into her warm embrace and letting you cry into her chest for a long moment until she pulled back and lowered her head to look at you.

“What is it, my little bird? Will your friend neither soften nor think clearly?”

You just nodded and pressed your lips together, trying to swallow the lump in your throat. Eivor turned to look over her shoulder for a moment, then she pulled you into an alcove.

“You stay here and collect yourself. I will tell them you got held up and will be there soon.” She pulled you in for a last, quick hug, then she vanished from sight.

You took a few deep breaths and slapped your chest and torso, trying to fully return to the present, to your body, and to your rational thoughts. If Eda wanted nothing more to do with you, so be it. You had other things to worry about now.

When you entered the map room there were five men waiting for you alongside Eivor and Randvi. One of them was Sigurd, Eivor’s brother and the official chief of her clan, even though you felt like a lot of people cared for Eivor more strongly. You had just found out today that he was also Randvi’s husband. The other four you had seen before but you did not know their names.

Eivor looked up from the map first, smiling widely and rounding the table to introduce you.

“Everyone, this is Y/N. She was the cook at Williamsburg and has visited Fort Winton several times. She will tell us all she knows about the area and the castle.”

“What happened to your face, Y/N?” One of the warriors gave word to what everyone was thinking. You straightened up, trying to brace yourself against Randvi’s icy expression.

“Thank you for this opportunity to make myself useful here. My cheek made acquaintance with Lord William’s fist the day of your attack, but I am healing now and he is not, that is all that matters. And I have you to thank for it.”

Your answer seemed to satisfy everyone and you got to work. You spent the next hours telling them about every path and entrance to the castle you knew of, every person working there when you last visited, and everything about the Stewart that had taken over the shire. You even drew a plan of the order of the buildings and the rooms you knew of.

The Viking warriors warmed up to you quickly when they realized how much valuable knowledge you were giving them and even Randvi seemed to forget her hostility toward you after a while. The group even allowed you to stay for their debates on the right strategy, taking all your comments into consideration and thanking you for your help. Eivor reminded you at some point that you were still injured and told you to go back to the hut, put on the salve, and lay down. She would pick you up later for the feast.

Birna was already waiting for you at the door, mortally offended at having spent the day outside in the snow. She weaseled through the first crack in the door and was even more distraught when the fireplace was dead and the bed cold. You apologized sincerely and lit a fire to make Valka’s wonderful brew while you gently applied her salve to your healing cheek.

While your tea was steeping, you curled up with Birna and poured your heart out to her about Eda. She was a wonderful listener, snuggling up to you when you started crying and supporting your distraught words with agreeing meows. It was heartbreaking - the one friend you still had left did not want to be your friend anymore. You were all alone here. You had to admit that the Norse people were extremely welcoming to you and that Eivor would probably be very offended to hear you call yourself alone after two nights in her arms, but still. You were lonely. After you had drunk a cup of your herb infusion, you laid down, pulled Birna into your arms and cried yourself to sleep while the white cat silently watched over you.

-

A light grasp on your shoulder woke you and you opened your eyes to find Eivor crouching down before you, smiling softly at you. It was already dark outside and you had trouble finding your grasp on reality for a moment. Was it the next day? No. The feast.

Your mouth was dry and your eyelids felt heavy from crying. Eivor softly brushed the hair out of your face with her fingers.

“Good evening, little bird. Can I interest you in some excellent boar meat and warm mead?”

Birna answered in your stead, crying out as she stretched her little body on top of you. Eivor’s expression became even softer.

“For you, little lady, I have something special.” She took a small balled up bundle from her pocket and opened the stained cloth to reveal some fresh innards, probably taken from the boar. She placed the cloth on the ground in front of the fireplace and Birna jumped down from the bed to have her own royal feast.

You got up and followed the cat's example in stretching your limbs, feeling Eivor’s eyes on you as you put on your shoes and cloak and tried to comb your hair with your fingers. The blonde was next to you at once, holding your hands still.

“Wait. Let me.”

She opened her wooden chest and produced a beautiful wide-tooth comb. It was made from some kind of bone or fang. The warrior stood behind you and gently pulled all your hair back towards her. Then she began combing it out, starting at the bottom of each strand and carefully moving upwards, taking out any knots or dirt. Her fingers touched your scalp every time she took a new strand of hair, sending lightning down your spine and making the hair on your neck stand up.

“That’s better. I can braid it for you, too, if you’d like that,” Eivor said behind you. You brushed a hand over your long hair and felt its smoothness. You had never been allowed to wear your hair down at Williamsburg, always having to put it up in a knot and wear a bonnet or at least a cap. Today you had seen so many Viking women proudly wearing their hair down, some with intricate little braids and beads in theirs.

“I’d like that, yes,” you whispered, scared your voice would betray you. Every day, every hour here felt like a step closer to freedom and happiness.

“Sit down on the bed.” The blonde gently guided you to sit at the foot of the mattress so she could stand next to you. Then she began taking hair from your healthy side and braiding it along the hairline around your ear and down the back of your neck. She stepped around you to look at her work from the front.

“I think that is all you need. You’re beautiful.”

Your heart jumped into your throat, almost making its way onto your tongue. Your fingers followed the path of the small braid, admiring the perfect work of the warrior’s calloused hands. How peculiar, that these rough hands that wielded swords and axes bigger than your head could also be so gentle and precise.

A knock on the door tore you out of your reverie. It was Valka who wanted to take a look at your face and pick you both up for the feast. She was satisfied with your healing process and delighted to see Birna, having a little chat with the cat on the bed. You had to keep yourself from laughing when the thought of Birna being the true queen of this clan entered your head. She probably felt that the same way. The white cat was adored by everyone, and her demands were followed without question.

As the three of you made your way down to the longhouse, you could already hear loud singing and laughter. People were stumbling outside to relieve themselves in the bushes and others were just arriving, all being greeted with loud cheers and big jugs of mead. The same happened to you when you entered the great hall. A few warriors rushed to your side, greeting Eivor and paying you compliments and thanks for your help that day. Enthusiasm saturated the air like a humid day, filling everyone with joy and confidence for tomorrow.

Valka was quick to take the jug of ale from your hands and gave it to someone else who swore his love to her in return. She just smiled and pulled you towards the kitchen area. You had already lost Eivor in the mass of warriors jeering and singing praise to Odin. At the hearth fire, you met Sfáva sitting on a bench and enjoying a massive pitcher of mead. She cried out in joy when she saw you and hugged Valka tightly in greeting before squeezing your hands and grinning her almost toothless smile at you.

Valka asked you to stay with the older woman for a while and help her with the food; then you saw her talk to a red-haired woman and vanish in a dark corner with her. Maybe that was the woman she had spoken about with Eivor before? You wished her the best of luck.

There was not too much to do. The boar was on a spit over the great fire in the main hall and the men were responsible for cutting down the meat for everyone. You were grilling sausages and vegetables on the side and helping the boys open new barrels of ale that were consistently emptied within the hour.

Eivor came by soon, asking for more variety on her plate. It was obvious that she had already had enough mead to kill a boar, slightly swaying when she walked and getting extremely close when she tried to talk to you over the noise in the hall. Her face was red and radiating heat, her eyes had a drunk glisten to them and her laugh was rougher and dirtier than during the day. You were glad she was enjoying herself, although you could not help but wonder if this was the best idea considering her plans for tomorrow.

You spent some time outside cleaning plates at the trough and getting fresh air when you suddenly heard a noise around the corner. You debated for a moment whether you should risk a look but your curiosity got the best of you. As you stuck your head around the edge of the house, you weren’t immediately sure what you saw before you.

Two figures were leaning against the wall in close embrace, chuckling and mumbling sweet nothings to each other. As a cloud finally freed the moon and its light shone down on your village, you made out Valka’s golden headdress and the silhouette of the red-haired woman she had talked to earlier. Apparently, she had gotten lucky. You quietly moved back to your plates and smiled to yourself. Valka was a wonderful person, giving and loving and always putting others’ needs above hers. Eivor had spoken very highly of her trusted friend. She deserved to be happy.

When you came back inside and put the plates back on the sideboard in the cooking area, you noticed Eivor sitting at the front table surrounded by her men. And oh - there was Randvi sitting next to her. The two of them were leaning toward each other, their heads almost touching as they laughed about something Sigurd had said. It seemed that they had talked about their difficulties and made up.

You let yourself fall on the bench next to Sfáva and she patted your thigh, holding out her pitcher to signal it was empty. With a sigh, you got up to get her more mead and made yourself a plate of vegetables from the grid, seeing as you had not eaten since breakfast. Sfáva noticed you had not taken any meat and insisted you go get some boar meat. Upon the realization that she would not let you sit down again until you had tried the boar, you slowly went over to the big fire, hoping no one would notice you. The warrior there cut you a generous piece and you were almost back in your dark corner when someone called your name. God, no.

Aelfric, Hal, and Lewin were sitting at a table with some other stable boys and young maids. You gave Sváfa an apologetic wave which she answered with a loud, heartfelt laugh, then you made your way to your old companions. The boar was better than you had expected and you really were terribly hungry, wolfing down your food at an indecent speed and even going back for another portion. The others were talking about the two squires still sat in the cell; they were sure they would come around by the next morning. Who would really prefer the cold ground over these celebrations and the wonderful food that was shared fairly between everyone?

Looking over to the table at the back of the hall you could see Eivor and her friends conversing loudly, laughing and slapping each other's backs. At one point Dag danced on the table, but he soon lost his footing and went down in a wave of plates, jugs, rattling metal, and the yells of his fellow warriors. You stared at Eivor for a while, hoping she would return your gaze, but she was completely immersed in her conversation and never even looked up from her table. You finished your meal quietly, listening to the others talking about a new dice game they had learned and about a filly at the stable that was born in late autumn, a strange and dangerous time for newborns in the animal world. Together, they were sure they would get it through the winter safe.

Later you returned to Sfáva and leaned against the wall opposite her, warming yourself up by the fire and keeping an eye on Eivor, who was apparently in another drinking contest with one of her men. Randvi had her hands on Eivor’s shoulders and was cheering her on. A small figure stepped next to you, crossing her arms and following your gaze. Valka had returned.

You made no attempt to hide your feelings, you knew she had already seen through you. The healer put an arm around your waist and shook you slightly, looking up at you with a sympathetic expression.

“I know you saw us, Y/N.” The words took a moment for you to grasp their meaning, then you turned to Valka in surprise.

“Oh God, I swear I will keep your secret. I am a master at keeping my mouth shut.”

The smaller woman had to smile at your nervous reaction.

“I trust you. I am glad it was you that caught us and not someone else.”

“May I ask…” you hesitated, “what is going on between you?”

Valka turned her head to look at the singing warriors in the hall. There was a pain in her eyes that felt just too familiar.

“She is married. It was not her choice, but her father’s way of forging an alliance. Her husband is one of the hunters and away most of the time. When he beat her badly the first time, she came to me.”

The silence between you was heavy with meaning. When she began to speak again, her words grabbed your feet and pulled on them, getting heavier and heavier until you began to wonder why the earth had not opened underneath you and swallowed you whole.

“I know you wonder what happened between Eivor and Randvi. It is neither my place nor my ability to tell you everything, but I will say this, for fairness’s sake and because I think you already know in your heart. There was once love between them. Whether it still lives on, I cannot tell. But Eivor has told me that she is ready to leave this bond behind her because she feels something new, something far deeper and more intensive is coming. That is why she has pursued you. She felt something deeper the moment she met you.”

Valka turned to you and you fought to at least turn your feet so you could face her. Everything was spinning around you. The dark-haired woman gently placed her hands on either side of your neck and looked deep into your eyes.

“Follow your heart, Y/N. The gods will lead you. They have decided your destiny long before you were born.”

After recommending you should get some sleep, Valka left you frozen in place and dizzy. The noise that filled the room was now nothing but a single loud booming voice threatening to split your head. You needed to get some air. Maybe your bed was really the best idea.

You looked around for Eivor, but she had vanished from sight. It did not matter, you would find your way into her arms later one way or another. You said your goodbyes to Sfáva and the other servants, then you finally exited the longhouse and inhaled the cool night air.

Rounding the corner toward your hut, you were suddenly startled by a noise that sounded like an animal crying out. Maybe a cat? You tiptoed around the dark cottage to your right and suddenly stopped dead in your tracks.

Your heart dropped to your feet and all the blood left your face.

Eivor had pressed her brother's wife to the wooden wall and was kissing her passionately while her hands explored Randvi’s body under her tunic. They were so immersed that they had not heard you coming. You could not move, your feet suddenly weighing you down like boulders again.

The blonde’s knee was between the other woman’s legs and Randvi spread them for her lover, moaning into her mouth. As Eivor started attacking her neck with kisses, the auburn-haired woman opened her eyes and looked directly at you. The surprise in her gaze was almost unnoticeable, fading quickly to be replaced by malicious pleasure as she continued to stare at you while whining Eivor’s name and burying her fingers in the warrior’s hair.

Finally, your muscles started to work again. You turned on the spot and quietly made your way to Eivor’s hut. You felt sick. Closing the door behind you, you kicked your shoes under the bed and threw your coat into the corner. The cat on Eivor's pillow just gave you a questioning look.

“Oh Birna, if only you knew.” You threw yourself on the bed next to her, then you started bawling for the second time today. You cried until there was not a single tear left and you felt completely empty inside. Then you scooted close to the edge of the bed, turning your back to Eivor’s side, and tried to fall asleep.

Even though you fell into a state of absence, sleep would not come. Dread filled you when you heard teps at the door. But before Eivor could enter, you heard her cough and retch, probably throwing up into the thorny bushes a few steps from the door. A slight feeling of righteousness overcame you but it quickly disappeared again, leaving only misery and desperation.

When the warrior finally entered, you could hear her stumble through the room and curse under her breath as she hit her foot on the bed frame. She seemed to only take off her coat and let it fall to the floor before lying down next to you and falling asleep in an instant. A part of you had still hoped for her arms around you, despite everything. Now you could hear her ragged breathing and smell the smoke and alcohol on her hair and breath.

The tears came again and you silently cried into your pillow while the warrior slept soundly next to you, oblivious to your sorrow. Only Birna proved her loyalty to you by getting up from Eivor’s side of the bed and rolling up in the crook of your bent knees.

-

You must have fallen asleep at some point because you were woken the next morning by another salve of mumbled curses. It was still grey outside, dawn had only just begun. You stayed completely still and listened to Eivor dress herself and collect her weapons and shield from her trunk.

To your surprise, the warrior suddenly walked around to your side, crouched down, and lightly stroked your hair.

“Have a good day, my little bird. I will bring you honor and victory today,” she whispered, then she stood up and swiftly left the hut.

-

Let me know what you thought ❤️ (it’s okay if you hate me, I promise I’ll make it up to you in the next chapters)

[ourloveisforthelovely]

A Perfect Storm Part 2

Harry Potter Marauders Era-Post Hogwarts 

Link to Part 1 

Pairings: Regulus Black x Reader 

Rating: M

Songs in chapter: Little Lion Man by Mumford and Sons. Mr. Brightside by The Killers

______

Weep for yourself, my man. You'll never be what is in your heart. Weep, little lion man. You're not as brave as you were at the start. Rate yourself and rake yourself. Take all the courage you have left. And waste it on fixing all the problems. That you made in your own head. But it was not your fault but mine. And it was your heart on the line. I really fucked it up this time, didn't I, my dear?

Evan lightly elbowed Regulus in the side before stepping into the room. You didn’t look up right away. It was clear that you were used to Evan just coming in whenever the hell he wanted. Knowing the sounds of your brother’s footsteps, you most likely felt no need to see who was coming into the room.

“Y/n, we need to talk.”

Evan started. Your face immediately looked up from the sheet music that you were so closely studying. The moment that you met Regulus’ gaze, your mouth dropped. Over the past few years, you had been playing this moment out in your head.

And he was there...as he always should have been.

You didn’t move or make any facial expressions. Regulus looked just as he always did only a bit more exhausted and done with everyone’s shit. He was still the handsome man that you had fallen in love with.

You have to stop. You have to protect yourself.

The “strong” voice in your head spoke warily. As much as you wanted to run to him and throw your arms around him, you weren't about to. Because of him, you had fallen into a soul-sucking depression that you almost didn’t make it out of. He hurt you. Regulus was the one person that wasn’t supposed to hurt you.

“Wow, Evan you were right. That didn’t take long.”

Evan winced as Regulus shot him a scowl.

“I kind of told her that we should expect to see you soon and well...here you are.”

Evan explained before going to the couch and sitting down. Regulus kept his attention on his best friend.

“Evan, leave us. This is about to be awkward enough.”

Evan shook his head. He didn’t plan on leaving the two of you alone only to come back to see the two of you screwing each other. The older brother in Evan wouldn’t let him.

“I have been waiting for this moment a long time and I won’t be robbed of it.”

Regulus shrugged before turning back to you, his princess. You hadn’t changed at all.

She’s only grown more lovely…

Regulus thought as you stood up and crossed your arms over your chest. You weren't happy with him and Regulus could see it. If you started throwing things at him he wouldn’t be the least bit surprised. You were hurt and it was all because of him (well, Ambrosia but Regulus would forever blame himself). The two of you were supposed to be married by now. You were both supposed to be happy with each other and have your own family. Regulus wasn’t supposed to be here begging for forgiveness for having a child with some horrible bitch that ruined your life.

“It didn’t take you long to come. One would think that as much as you claimed to love your wife that you would be home mourning her loss. Do me a favor, Regulus, go back home and be a good father to your daughter. Leave me out of it.”

Your words hurt worse than if you had given him the middle finger. Regulus blinked a few times before remembering that he could talk. He was not about to put up with this.

“You have to listen to me, Y/n. It was a love potion. She has been slipping me a love potion for the past five years.”

You started laughing hard at that before turning to Evan who was smirking as he lit a cigarette.

“Evan, you literally just said that.”

Evan shrugged.

“He’s telling the truth, sister. You know that, given the past few years, I wouldn’t take his side but Regulus drank veritaserum right in front of me. He isn’t lying.”

Your mouth dropped as it all made sense. Regulus’ sudden and complete infatuation with Ambrosia, the way that he just walked away out of the blue, everything. The knowledge didn’t stop the hurt though. Knowing that Ambrosia literally stole Regulus (with no input of his own) made you angrier.

That horrible bitch of a woman has literally ruined my life! She stole what was supposed to be both mine and Regulus’ future! I hope that she is burning in hell right now.

You knew that the thought was cold and if your mother heard it there would be the very real chance that she would smack you.

There was also the realization of just what Regulus was going through. Mad at him or not, you felt immense pity for your love. Your love...you could admit that. Regulus would always be your love. It didn’t matter how many men you went on dates with...none of them would be able to compare to the feelings that you felt for him. You could only imagine how he felt “waking up” from the effects of a love potion to find his life completely out of order and ruined. It was no wonder that he looked so exhausted and confused.

You didn’t know how to process all of the thoughts in your head at the moment. After spending so many years angry and bitter at Regulus, you didn’t know how to emotionally handle what you were hearing.

Moving to the window, you had to think about what to say. Regulus, meanwhile, moved closer to you. He was partially afraid that you would smack him but it was a risk that he was willing to take. Regulus was even willing to fight Evan if he needed to.

Regulus turned to his friend for a moment to see Evan’s reaction to everything. Evan was sitting with a burning cigarette in his hand as he watched like a hawk. His blue eyes were hyper-focused on his sister ready to jump in and protect you at any given time. Regulus gave him a simple nod. Had things been different, Regulus would have approved of Evan’s behavior. Today, however, Regulus wanted to tell him to take a pill and relax.

“Princess, I’m sorry for everything. You know that I would never do anything to intentionally hurt you. I really fucked it up this time, didn’t I my dear?”

Regulus’ hand was on yours as you finally turned to look at him. It didn’t matter how nice it felt with him touching you again, you weren't sure where everything stood. Regulus didn’t seem to understand your confusion. Yes, he was apologizing, and that in itself was nice but were you mentally able to handle an apology and “everything would be okay?”

Your mind went to his daughter. Would you be able to look at this child? What if every time you looked at the kid you saw Ambrosia? It wasn’t the child’s fault, you knew this but that didn’t stop the pain of knowing Regulus’ daughter wasn’t yours. Would Regulus expect you to step in and love the child as if she was your own? The better question was did you think that you would be able to? You didn’t know. What if you did love the child? What if you fell in love with the little girl and something happened between Regulus and yourself? You would lose two people this time.

What did you know about being a mother anyway? Your mother was no pristine example of what a mother should be. She would shove Evan, Felix, and yourself off on nannies all the time. She only wanted to deal with the lot of you when it came time to show off how “good” the Rosier family was. How were you supposed to know what to do with Regulus’ daughter?

Pulling yourself from your thoughts, you turned to face Regulus. His eyes were locked on your face.

Merlin, he is still so intense...

“Do you not realize how difficult this is for me? Everything about you has changed.”

Regulus shook his head. Nothing about him had changed. He just had a few added bonuses that he didn’t have before.

“Nothing about me has changed. It's like I just woke up and missed a few years of my life. I’m standing here apologizing for everything. You’ve changed too but I’m willing to accept some of the new changes. How do you think it is for me to see what you do for a living?”

You figured the modeling would come up.

“I make good money and I am really good at my job.”

Regulus’ face was dark. He hated the thought of people, like his brother, seeing you nearly naked in magazines. Regulus was immediately jealous. Those “beauties” were meant for Regulus to only look at.

“You show people your tits and ass. You’re supposed to be mine.”

Regulus didn’t mean for the comment to come out as cold as it did but it happened. Your mouth dropped, noticing Evan in the corner of the room putting a hand over his mouth.

“It was nice knowing you, Regulus.”

Evan muttered under his breath as you turned back to Regulus.

“You lost the privilege of putting your thoughts in when you married that bitch! You were supposed to be my husband!”

“Well, fuck Y/n, I am standing here trying to fix it and you are bitting my head off.”

You threw down the teacup that you were holding. The house-elf, Curly, came running in with her dustpan and little broom ready to sweep the mess up. She had become accustomed to you throwing things and needing to clean it up.

Evan jumped up. He knew that this conversation was going south quickly.

“Okay, time for a breather. Regulus, what did you expect? Do you think that Y/n is going to run off to play house with you? Y/n is heartbroken over this whole thing and you are foolish if you expect her to just get over it and take you back as if nothing has changed. Y/n, he is honestly apologizing but, as I said, you don’t have to just get over it. You need to heal.”

You nodded, silently thanking your brother. Regulus, meanwhile, was scowling at Evan.

“I don’t expect her to come and play house with me. I am trying to fix what I destroyed!”

Evan nodded.

“Now that we all understand each other...Y/n, what do you have to say?”

You opened and closed your hands a few times.

“I think we are all bat shit fucking insane is what I think. Regulus, I can’t talk to you right now. I need some time.”

You snapped before turning and storming out of the room.

You had been in your room for around 15 minutes when there was a soft knock on the door. Not moving from your place on your bed, you waited until the door opened and closed.

“Y/n, we need to talk.”

You internally groaned hearing your mother’s voice. She sat down on the bed beside you and gently stroked her hands through your hair.

“Yes, mother?”

You replied.

“Evan told me about Regulus Black coming to see you. There is something that I would like to say about that.”

You rolled your eyes, knowing where this was going.

“Let me guess, you want me to accept his apology and forgive him. If he asks me to marry him, I need to say yes because this is a smart match and you know that I still love him so very much.”

You didn’t see the annoyed expression on your mother’s face.

“Well, now I don’t have to say it.”

You sat up and shoved your now messy hair from your face.

“Mother, he left me for another woman. I don’t care if it was under a love potion or not. He also has a child with this woman. Do you realize how hard this is for me? Do you honestly expect me to love something that came out of that woman? How could you?”

Your mother rolled her eyes.

“Y/n, you can be so dramatic. You have both the king and queen of chess in your hands and do not seem to realize it. This child is a girl and essentially has nothing to offer the Black family. You, my dear, can give Regulus a son. The Black family needs an heir to continue alone. We both know that Sirius and the werewolf won’t be able to produce that..unless something extremely unusual happens. Everything is on Regulus. No matter how adorable the little girl is, a daughter’s only real purpose is to be married into a well-to-do family.”

“Way to make me feel special, mum.”

You muttered as your mother gave you a displeased scowl. The last thing that you really wanted to think about was how sexist the pureblood world could be but here it was thrown in your face again. You knew what was expected of you and so did Evan (even though he didn’t seem in too big of a hurry to do anything.) You had it in your mind the Felix would be the one that would continue the Rosier bloodline. Evan was too busy and proud being a death eater. He didn’t even seem interested in any woman or man that came his way.

“You know that I am right, Y/n. As I said, you hold both the king and queen of chess in your pretty little hands. Maybe you should put them to use.”

(meanwhile)

Regulus stormed back into Grimmauld Place ready to kill some poor unfortunate soul should they get in his way. Walburga sat in her reading room and looked up when Regulus dropped onto the couch across from her.

“Well?”

Regulus was fuming. He had expected the conversation with you to go better than what it did. You essentially telling him to fuck off, was the last thing that he expected. Had it been years ago, Regulus would have been able to charm you with a few bats of his eyes. Today, however, there was no such thing.

“What do you mean, well?”

Regulus snapped in his mother’s direction. Walburga put down the book that she was holding.

“You know perfectly well what I mean, Regulus. How did it go with Y/n?”

Regulus snorted.

“A fucking disaster of epic proportions.”

“Mind your language in this house, son. Now, what happened?”

Regulus groaned. He really didn’t want to think of what happened again. All that he wanted to do at the moment was find a bottle of fire whiskey and go the fuck to sleep.

“She hates me.”

Walburga rolled her eyes.

“You’re so dramatic, Regulus.”

Regulus sat up straight. The rage that was going through him over the lingerie modeling was about to come flowing out like a volcano and his mother was going to be the innocent villager that was in the way of the lava.

“She’s a lingerie model now. Mum, she is showing off things that only I am supposed to see. Do you think that I enjoy knowing that other men are looking at her breasts? The answer is no. I begged her to forgive me and she said she needed time to think.”

Regulus jumped up and started pacing the room.

“Why would she want to get back with me? I hurt her and not to mention I have a child with the girl that made her life miserable. Why would any woman in the right mind want to take that back?”

Walburga knew well about your new career. While it wasn’t something that she would do herself, clearly you were doing well. It wasn’t like you were a pornographic film actress or a stripper. A model was a perfectly fine career and you were lovely enough for it.

“I don’t know what it is with the men in this family being so weak.”

Walburga replied. Regulus stopped and glared at her.

“I am not weak, mother! I can assure you that if you were in my shoes, with your world falling apart, you would be freaking out too.”

Walburga rolled her eyes again.

“Give Y/n some time to process everything that she has heard. This is a lot to one’s system. Look at your father, for example, he hasn’t said a word in three days...not that I am complaining. Try wooing Y/n a little better? I swear men are horrible at it.”

Regulus was silent for a moment as he considered his mother’s words. He was good at wooing you before. Why would he be able to do it again now?

“Wooing...great idea. Excuse me, mother. I have some things to do.”

Walburga held a hand up.

“Regulus?”

“Yes?”

Walburga looked up with an almost bored expression.

“Don’t buy her a lot of flowers, my son. No woman enjoys their home looking like a funeral parlor. Another word of mother's advice, you are the heir to this family. While I love Phoebe very much we do need a male heir. Things are upon your shoulders to keep our noble family going.”

Regulus didn’t let Walburga see the cold expression on his face. Of course, this is what Walburga would be concerned about. She wasn’t worried about Regulus’ happiness. So what if her son was a depressed angry mess as long as the family line was saved then nothing else mattered.

“Yes, mother.”

(the next day)

You sat at the table beside Evan. Your brother’s eyes were locked on the Daily Prophet on an article about “suspected death eater activity.” He looked up at you with a grin as you stirred your tea.

“I did this.”

He said with a grin. You raised an eyebrow and didn't speak for a moment. Even though being a death eater was perfectly normal in your family, you still worried about your brother.

“How surprising.”

You commented as an owl landed on the windowsill and started knocking on the glass. Evan stood up with a frown.

“Are you expecting anything?”

You shook your head as he went to retrieve the package that the owl was so eagerly showing off.

“Little show off.”

Evan commented before giving the bird a treat and taking the package away from its foot.

“I’ll be damned.”

You looked up as he came back to the table. Your mother shot Evan a disapproving scowl.

“Language, Evan.”

Evan smirked.

“This time it's excusable, mum. Y/n, Regulus sent you something.”

Your mouth dropped as you took the box from your brother. This was the last thing that you expected. You expected Regulus to remain in the shadows until you sent for him. Regulus would typically revert back to his introverted nature and not want to make the first move...but here you were.

“What is it, sweetheart?”

Your mother questioned as you tore into the box and a small velvet box landed in your hand.

Oh hell

You thought. If his crazy ass sent you an engagement ring, you would die right here at the breakfast table then haunt Regulus for the rest of forever for killing you. Looking up, you met Evan’s wide eyes.

“I swear to Merlin if that is a…”

Evan started but stopped when his mother pinched his hand. You, meanwhile, took a breath and opened the box to see a pair of emerald earrings in the box...a very pretty obviously expensive pair of earrings.

“Those are lovely.”

Your mother exclaimed with a happy smile. They were pretty. Pretty wasn’t giving them enough justice. Regulus always picked out the best jewelry to give you and this was no exception.

Evan looked relieved as well to see no engagement ring. This meant that he didn’t have to go into big brother mode and ask Regulus if he was bat shit insane.

“They are nice.”

Evan agreed. Your mother stood up to take her plate to the kitchen because Curly the elf vanished.

“Y/n, I want you to talk to Regulus when he comes back again for you. I am not saying rush to marry him but for the love of God hear him out. Remember what I said about chess pieces.”

Evan turned to you with a curious frown. You shook your head.

“Just a bunch of pureblood sexist garbage that we have heard all of our lives.”

Evan nodded going back to the article about himself.

(later that afternoon)

You sat in a cafe with one of your friends and Evan having lunch. When Sam, who was also one of the designers that you modeled for, called asking if you wanted to go to lunch you were thrilled. You asked Evan to tag along because he looked like he needed to get away from your mother as well.

“So, he gave you earrings? Fascinating. At least he didn’t send you some generic version of a rose bouquet.”

Sam commented, taking a sip of his martini. You nodded.

“I don’t want my room looking like a mortuary.”

Sam and Evan both smiled at that.

“If a man sends me flowers there is no second date. I don’t have time to be watering plants on top of my job.”

Sam added as Evan nodded.

“If I had any interest in dating anyone and I did something Regulus’ level of insane I think that I would go to the level of precious gems and jewelry too. I may make something with my two little hands.”

You snorted at your brother’s comment. Evan was making it very clear that he blamed Regulus for everything. Sure, Ambrosia smuggled him a love potion but Regulus should have never drunk anything that she gave him. That was asking for it.

“Evan, you don’t need to make anything. The last time that you made me a bracelet it was oozing hot glue from broken beads.”

Evan shrugged.

“I tried and you said it was beautiful.”

Sam was laughing hard by this point.

“Clearly, she lied.”

Before Sam could add more, you looked up to see Walburga walking over.

Fuck

You thought as your eyes landed on the little girl who had her hand wrapped around Walburga’s wrist. Evan muttered “fuck” under his breath as he clearly saw everything too. You were unable to look away from the child. Holy fuck, did this child look like her father. This provided some relief. You were thrilled to say that you didn’t see one trace of Ambrosia Parkinson in her. Everything about her screamed Regulus Black. From her curly long hair to her icy grey eyes. She was also dressed neat as a pin You had a feeling that Walburga was behind a lot of that.

“Y/n.”

Walburga said your name with her usual haughty smile. You forced a smile before getting up to hug her.

“Walburga, it's nice to see you.”

“Likewise, dear. I heard that you were back from Paris. Regulus asked me to send you his regards. He’s out of town for the next few days.”

Walburga had noticed the stranger sitting beside Evan so she decided to keep information at a minimum in case this person was an “undesirable.” She also watched as an expression of hurt at Regulus’ name crossed your face before you returned to your normally calm disposition. Walburga had always considered you a ray of sunshine for Regulus and she was not about to let this chance of a “relationship” go unmended.

“I see. Tell him that I said thank you for the earrings. I sent a letter yesterday.”

Walburga nodded, with a smile.

“It's waiting for him at home. We have to be going. I hope to see you soon, darling.”

Walburga gently nudged her granddaughter along. The little girl’s eyes were locked on you the whole time but you tried to ignore it. At the moment, you were trying to appear brave and put together in front of Walburga. You weren't about to let her see how internally you were feeling like a wildfire about to spread.

As they walked away, you heard the little girl as Walbura who you were. Your stomach almost hit your ankles at Walburga’s response…

“Hopefully soon to be your father's girlfriend.”

Both Evan and yourself gapped at each other as you managed to sit back down. Sam didn’t say anything. He knew well about Regulus and at the moment you looked like you needed some “quiet time.”

“Sissy…”

Evan started as the song on the cafe’s radio caught your attention….

Coming out of my cage and I've been doing just fine. Gotta gotta be down because I want it all. It started out with a kiss. How did it end up like this? .It was only a kiss, it was only a kiss. Now I'm falling asleep and she's calling a cab. While he's having a smoke and she's taking a drag. Now they're going to bed and my stomach is sick and it's all in my head. But she's touching his chest now. He takes off her dress now. Let me go and I just can't look, it's killing me. And taking control. Jealousy, turning saints into the sea. Swimming through sick lullabies. Choking on your alibis. But it's just the price I pay. Destiny is calling me. Open up my eager eyes. 'Cause I'm Mr. Brightside

You quickly picked up your handbag, not looking at Sam or Evan.

“I have to get out of here.”

__________

@amelie-black @regulusslut @truly-insatiable @fandomsxxregulus @realgaytrash @lucasfilms77 @exhsle @quuenofblacks @jessyballet @knreidy1 @teletubiswszpilkach @mimisparkle12 @hazncalsgal @acciosiriusblack @whymyparentscheckmyphone @criminalyetminimal @bennyberry @rubyroscoe1 @fific7 @spiderxalmighty @brokencasbutt67-writer @authoressskr @fandom-trash-worth-it @hankypranky @summer-novak @emiwrites3reads @shaylybaby2032 @marichromatic @shadows-and-padlocked-hearts @knight-of-gleefulness @stuckinsaudi1 @deanwherescas @sprnaturallover @untoldshortsofthefandoms @shitfaceddaniel @wontlookaway @mycuddlycorner

[matbarzyy]

Wasted Love (part 2) [T.S.]

A/N: Wow look at me post part two soon after I started the series! Now I need to hurry up and write the third part but that’s a tomorrow problem. Thank you to everyone who told me what they thought of the start of the series, it really means the world and I hope you’ll like this part too <3

Word count: 2445

Warnings: an abusive boyfriend

.

“Hello you,” Tyler grinned as he fist bumped her as a greeting. It was hard to do anything else over her desk, and it was now a habit between her and all the guys on the team. “How’s your day going?”

“It’s been good,” Alessia smiled back effortlessly, leaning back into her chair to rest her back for a minute. “How was practice?”

“Pretty fun, we’re all going out for dinner tonight with a few other people, if you want to join,” He threw it out there because it was a work thing and he had never seen her out with everyone before. Alessia only ever joined when everyone was getting lunch somewhere together. Most of the people she worked with were older than her, and predominantly men too. Tyler knew it might be hard for her to be included in plans.

“Oh, thanks, but um, I’ve got to be home with my boyfriend tonight,” She said it with a little sigh, and that prompted Tyler to poke a little bit further.

“Is everything okay at home?” He leaned against the wall with a slight frown. Ever since he had met Alessia he had felt protective of her. She was one of the youngest people working for the team, and she was slowly discovering the industry. He didn’t doubt that she had the skills to do amazing, or she would never have gotten hired, but he liked to keep an eye on her to make sure she was fine.

“We had a little fight, nothing to worry about,” She admitted with a shrug. “I had plans with friends and he got a little annoyed that I haven’t been spending enough time with him, and them my friends got pissed that I cancelled so… yeah, it’ll blow over in a day or two,”

“That sucks, I’m sorry,” He didn’t know what to tell her, she would clearly annoy either her friends or boyfriend no matter what she did now. “You guys been living together long?”

“Almost six months, yeah,” Alessia nodded. “It’s nice, plus rent is so much cheaper divided by two,” She chuckled and Tyler faked a little laugh too.

“Fair enough. I’ve gotta run, but I’ll see you tomorrow?” He stopped himself from mentioning how fucked up that sounded.

Sure, regular people had to worry about money a little more than he did, but he was still sure mentioning saving money to describe how great it was to live with a boyfriend was messed up. He had expected her to say she was happy to see him more often, to come home to him every night, to wake up to him in the morning.

“Of course,” Alessia cut him off from his thoughts, and Tyler pushed himself off the wall.

“Good luck tonight, I hope things settle down at home,” He said it sincerely, but a little voice in the back of his mind nagged him. He didn’t hope things would settle down. He hoped she would break up with the guy that clearly wasn’t giving her the happiness she deserved.

“Thanks Ty,” She waved as he left, and he gave her one last smile before he was out of sight.

.

The fact that Jordan didn’t like it when she spent a night with her friends didn’t sit well with Tyler. It bothered him the first time she told him, but after a couple of weeks he noticed a pattern. Whenever Alessia had plans with a friend it had to be lunch, if it was at night the plans would either get cancelled or she’d show up in a bad mood the next day because she argued with her boyfriend.

Their relationship was obviously fucked up, and Tyler didn’t feel like sitting around and letting her be sad. Surely her boyfriend wouldn’t be able to say anything if she stayed out at night for a work event, so he invited her for drinks with the team and a few other people in admin and services that they got along with.

“Be careful Tyler,” Jamie shook his head disapprovingly as they got changed for their morning skate. “She’s taken,”

“I know that,” The other man grumbled. “We let everyone else we like come along, she’s cool, why wouldn’t I invite her?”

“Because you obviously like her, and she’s got a boyfriend,” Jamie was far from stupid and he knew his friend all too well.

“I’m not trying to make a move, the guy’s an asshole though,” Tyler laced up his skates, huffing as he pulled them on tightly.

“Sounds like someone’s jealous.” The bearded man used a teasing tone as he finished adjusting his own gear.

“I’m not,” Was he?

“Just don’t get into something messy, okay? She’s also just twenty two,” Jamie added. The whole scenario screamed recipe for disaster and he didn’t want to see what would go down if Tyler actually let himself fall for her.

“Way to make me feel old Jamie, thanks for that,” Tyler patted his friend’s shoulder and headed out of the locker room, ready to clear his mind on the ice for a while.

.

The bar was relatively quiet that night if you made an abstraction of the team of giants in green taking up most of the space. Alessia was sitting at the bar on one of the far ends, her hair falling in front of her face to hide herself.

“Is that apple juice?” Tyler slid into the seat next to hers with his own drink, lifting her curtain of hair and pushing it behind her shoulder.

“Yeah, work in the morning, remember?” She smiled, and he couldn’t help but notice how cute she was when the side of her eyes crinkled like that.

“I’ve got practice in the morning too, it’s one drink, won’t kill me,”

“I’m half your size with no muscles, my alcohol tolerance is low,” she chuckled when she saw the whiskey in his hand. One of those was enough to give her a headache. “Besides I’m driving, and I don’t want to see Jordan’s face if I come home after drinking at a work thing,”

“So what? He doesn’t like it when you hang out with your friends, he doesn’t like it when you drink, so you’re just not gonna do anything you want to do?” Tyler cocked his head to the side, pointing out everything he didn’t like about the guy while she shrugged.

“I don’t want to drink, and it’s not stupid of him to say, it’s Tuesday night. It’d be different on a weekend,” Alessia defended him and made it all sound like her own decision, but he was far from stupid.

“Fair enough,” Tyler cleared his throat to move on to something a bit more cheerful. Just hearing the name Jordan got on his nerves and he wanted the night to be fun. “Hey look! Jamie needs someone on his team,” He pointed over to the three men around the pool table. “Do you know how to play?”

“Absolutely not,” she curled further into her seat and a wide grin spread over Tyler’s face.

“Time to learn then!” He put a hand on her arm and gently tugged her up after him.

The guys were generally competitive, but considering that it was her first game they used it to teach her rather than try to win. Jamie and her took turns with Tyler coaching her from the side and showing her how to place her hands or telling her what angle she’d need to hit the ball at.

“Here,” He chuckled, standing close behind Alessia and gently grasping her wrist to adjust her.

He ignored the warning look he received from Jamie and went on with his instructions before stepping back, letting her do the rest on her own.

“Dude, you call her Allie?” Jamie groaned when Alessia was gone. “I’ve seen you like this before and you’re so fucked. You can’t have her,”

“It’s not like that!” He tried to defend himself but his friend didn’t buy it. “Fine, maybe I like her, but we’re just friends. I’m not doing anything,”

“Just don’t be stupid, okay?” The older man warned him again but he dismissed it as he had done every other time.

“It’s a nickname Jamie, not a proposal.”

.

The more Alessia went out for drinks at the end of the night the more she got along with the guys on the team. She didn’t talk to all of them, but Tyler, Jamie and their closer friends were now also her friends. It was refreshing to have a group of people close to her outside of home, and she loved to spend her evenings with them before she came home.

The lack of time she spent home translated into hurtful comments and reactions from Jordan almost daily. It was exhausting, but Tyler was always there to lift her mood in the morning so she found it all worth it. She blamed it on Jordan’s job being stressful at the moment, and on most nights they made up rather quickly with a little bit of effort on her part.

“I’ve just got a couple of emails to reply to,” Alessia opened her laptop on thursday night and Jordan huffed.

“Well maybe you wouldn’t need to do that at night if you weren’t always out with those people having drinks.” He stood in front of her across the table, arms crossed over his chest.

“I never even drink,” She defended herself, typing her reply while trying to ignore Jordan’s grumbles in the background. “It’s good for my career if I have contacts,”

“Enjoy your career then, just go take care of that and forget I exist,” he walked around to stand next to her and Alessia turned to him.

“Jordan I’m not-” she started but got cut off immediately.

“Are you sleeping with one of them? Uh? Is that how you’re building your career? Fucking some rich asshole behind my back?” His voice rose and her eyes widened.

“Of course not!” She insisted, flinching when he yelled.

“I’m always here taking care of you!” He stomped forward and Alessia felt her hands shake. “And yet you’re never here when I come home!”

“I’m sorry, Jordan, please,” she said quietly, trying her best to calm him down.

Jordan only shook his head at her, turning on his heels with her trailing close behind. She wanted to fix things, the emails could wait until morning. He didn’t seem to be in the same mindset as he got to the bedroom and turned around with a glare.

“You can stay out here until you’ve sorted out your priorities.” He slammed the bedroom door, missing her face by a few inches and turning the lock.

Alessia remained still behind it, in shock for a full minute.

Knowing he wouldn’t calm down too fast, she went back to her work and quickly did everything she needed to catch up on. She hoped he had settled down as she walked over to the bedroom with a yawn and tried for the door. It was still locked, so she knocked on it softly.

No answer came from the other side. She could hear him moving in bed, but he didn’t even care enough to get up.

Alessia held back her tears and went back to the couch, eyeing the laundry drying on the rack in a corner of the living room. At least she should still be able to throw a decent work outfit together in the morning. The same couldn’t be said for pajamas, there were no casual clothes drying and Jordan didn’t like it when she wore his stuff.

It was too cold to sleep without clothes on, especially with a small throw blanket rather than the comfy thick duvet that she normally had in bed. So, Alessia found herself with her legs bare and a slightly scratchy sweater on her upper body to stay warm as she curled up on the couch.

.

When she made it to the office in the morning she felt like crying. She had barely slept, she was exhausted both mentally and physically and she was already dreading the night ahead of her.

“What do you need?” She nearly growled when Tyler strolled into her office without a knock.

“Uh, never mind,” he swallowed and took a small step back.

“Okay?” Alessia looked up from her screen with an eyebrow raised, waiting on his next move. Did he need her or was he just standing there for no reason?

“I don’t really want to make you work right now, I don’t mean to be rude, but you look like shit,” Tyler unfroze a few seconds later and pulled a chair out to sit across from her.

“Thanks Ty,” A dry chuckle fell from her lips, and she rubbed her hands over her face. “I’m kinda sleep deprived,”

“What happened?” He stopped himself from reaching over to move her hair away from her face.

“It’s not that big of a deal,” Alessia sighed. “Jordan and I were arguing over something dumb, I spent the night on the couch and it’s ridiculously uncomfortable,”

“It’s not dumb if you didn’t even want to go back to bed,” Tyler gently pryed a little further.

“More like he didn’t want me in there,” she rolled her eyes, leaning back in her chair and fiddling with a pencil. She was staring at her hands rather than at him because she could already guess what he was about to say.

“I know it’s none of my business,” Tyler said it slowly so that he could think over his words. “But you’re my friend, and your relationship sounds really fucked up,”

“I swear it’s not as bad as it sounds, besides it’s just one night,” Alessia argued weakly, she always tried to defend him, she always had an excuse.

“You’re old enough to make your own decisions,” He shrugged. Tyler was good at hiding how furious he was, it wasn’t directed towards her so she didn’t need to see it. “But it he was mad enough to refuse to sleep next to you, he should have been the one taking the couch,”

“He’s not a bad person,” Alessia looked up then, but her words weren’t convincing.

“You know him better than I do, I guess,” Tyler let out a long sigh. He didn’t know what else to say to her, and he was afraid that pushing her would stop her from confiding in him in the future. “Call me if that happens again, okay? I live fifteen minutes away, I’ve got three empty guest rooms, and I’m sure they’re more comfortable than your couch.”

.

Please reblog and let me know what you thought!

[vesuvian-american-fics]

better with time. Ch 5

everything stays.

Everything stays, even the trauma you experienced 107 years ago. Battling pneumonia brought those memories back. The very beginning of the story. (AO3)

(PTSD[?] and needle/syringe mention)

Words: 1,577

You were jolted back to wakefulness as your head dropped onto the plush pillow of the infirmary bed rougher than Erwin had intended. You could tell not much time had passed since Hange was rushing frantically around the room in search of supplies and medicine.  

Your breathing was shallow, hot panting breathes wheezed out of your throat painfully. The taste of iron fresh on your tongue. A sickening flavor you had hoped to never taste again after becoming human. You were afraid, after everything, were you really about to die over fever? Is it really just a fever, what is going on?!  

Levi stood at the foot of the bed ordering Hange to calm down. Erwin checked your pulse; it was beating a mile a minute. You strained to slow your breathing and calm yourself, afraid of fainting again and not knowing what was going to happen next. Hange crouched beside you, petting your hair and comforting you. They were guiding your breathing to slow your pulse as Levi tied a string tightly around your arm, your veins appearing ready to be pricked underneath the skin.  

That’s when you saw it. Hange raised a large needle into your field of vision. Your eyes bulged and you gasped loudly, shaking your head in protest so hard Levi worried you’d break your neck in the process.  

“Relax,” Hange cooed, they explained it was just penicillin to help you get better. For whatever reason you had a deep, primal fear of needles. Flashes of your deepest darkest memories flashed. The very last memories you had as a human.  

<3

Your wrists were tied tightly behind your back but you fought against them relentlessly tearing your skin raw. You screamed and cried as a man walked behind you with a criminally large syringe filled with a cloudy liquid. You’d seen what it did. It was turning people into titans. You fought the best you could given your circumstances but you knew you weren’t making it out alive .  

You begged and wept for forgiveness, you thrashed and kicked but, in the end, you felt that familiar prick in your shoulder. He just injected you with whatever that liquid was. Next was a harsh kick to your back and you were falling to the sandy dunes below. The last thing you saw was the late afternoon sun, birds flying, fluffy clouds painted orange. Men in military clothes laughing, others in rags crying as they feared that they would soon share your same fate.  

A jarring crescendo and a firm calloused grip on your forearm brought you back to the present. Hange was mere inches away from sticking you with the needle. However, on instinct and pure animalistic fear you screamed and thrashed. A new wave of tears streamed down your face, you rippedyourself from their grip but before you could get away Erwin’s much stronger hands were weighing you down.  

You continued to kick, scream, and howl, Hange couldn’t get the needle in your arm as Erwin couldn't hold you still enough. Suddenly, there was a swift swat at the back of your neck and you were engulfed in darkness again.  

Your body went limp in Erwin’s hands, light bruising already apparent on your arms. He sighed, calming his fried nerves before frowning at Levi.  

“Knocking her out won’t make her trust us.” He said, stepping out of the way so Hange could quickly administer the medicine.  

“She would have given herself a heart attack if I didn’t.” Levi  stated plainly, crossing his arms over his chest. Erwin could tell, by the way Levi’s brows were knitted together her was quite shaken up by what just happened. Levi’s eyes were glued to your closed ones, watching as your face twitched and frowned in your sleep. He sighed before stepping into the hallway, thoroughly ignoring the barrage of concerned questions from the young scouts.  

“What the hell was that?!”  

“What happened?”  

“Is she alright?”  

Levi continued his trek down the hall before shutting himself away in his office for well needed quiet time. He needed it for just a moment before going back there to keep an eye on you, who knows what state of mind you’ll be in when you wake up. He’ll need any rest he can get right now.  

Hange collapsed into a chair in the corner of the infirmary, wiping sweat from their brow and letting their head fall back. They heaved a heavy sigh before wiping their eyes free of any of their own anxious tears. Breathing shakily, they stood to wet a rag with some cool water and lay it across your forehead.  

Erwin placed a heavy hand on their shoulder, it did well to immediately comfort and reassure Hange.  

“You did well. None of that was your fault.” He said, giving a knowing smile. Hange sighed patting their own hand over his before covering you with a thin sheet.  

“Thank you.” Was all Hange replied with. Their mind was racing, true, but for now it's best to just breathe. You’re okay, and Hange is vowing to themself to do as much as they can while you’re out so that they can avoid triggering you any further.  

<3

Just before the sun rose the next morning you opened your eyes. Your whole body was sore like you had just ran a marathon. You groaned a bit before silencing yourself, sitting next to you was Captain Levi. Of course, he’d be the one to watch you, but right now he looked to be sound asleep.  

Your eyes scanned over his relaxed face, lips slightly parted and looking soft. His breathing was slow and hushed, raven black hair fell haphazardly over his forehead but still looking perfect and tamed as usual. He had long black lashes that dusted over his cheekbones, you were so distracted at taking in the details you hadn’t noticed his eyes opened.  

“It’s rude to stare brat.” Levi scolded smugly. You huffed before wincing at the pain in your neck. You reached back to massage there, noticing out of the corner of your eye how Levi’s features softened just a bit. So little you almost worried you imagined it.  

“Turns out you had pneumonia.” He said, his dark eyes raking over your chart. He listed off your symptoms and any medicines Hange administered. That’s when the memory hit you like a ton of bricks.  

You were screaming and fighting, the memory mortified you but you didn’t blame yourself or anyone for your reaction. No one else but that man who’s face you can't remember from over a century ago.  

You sighed, rolling over and placing your face into the pillow and letting out a low moan. Levi chuckled silently.  

“Drink this, its medicinal tea.” He said, holding a cup towards you in that odd way he does. You nodded and hummed as the warmth spread through you. You both sat there in a comfortable silence before a light knock sounded against the heavy wooden door.  

Hange stepped through and their eyes glossed over seeing you awake. The two of you smiled at each other, and that smile of yours grounded Hange. So, you weren’t upset, thank goodness.  

Hange pet your head, before apologizing for the syringe incident but you shook your head to stop them. You gave their hand a squeeze and there was mutual understanding. It was no one's fault. No one could have known that would happen. Again, your reassurance made any tension melt away from Hange’s shoulders and they released a trembling breath before clearing their throat and getting down to business.  

“So, we’re dealing with pneumonia. Seems your immune system is weaker than normal probably since you’ve been a titan all these years. That damp moldy cellar did a number on your lungs.” They stated, you placed a hand over your chest, the familiar prickling of building anxiety present there.  

You nodded for Hange to continue and they explained what your healing process would look like. It can take anywhere from a week to a month, but they’re predicting a slower recovery due to your compromised immune system. You sighed in defeat, but you expected this, at least you were alive.  

“I’ll be watching so don’t try anything funny when you can walk again.” Levi said, feigning intimidation, but you could tell this was his way of trying to assure you’d feel better soon enough. You shook your head at him before returning you attention to Hange who had a pair of small white pills for you to swallow.  

“Just a pain reliever.” They said with a smile. You chuckled, slightly embarrassed for being so skeptical but dutifully you swallowed and chased the medicine down with your hot tea.  

“Erwin will be back with a special book for you to read, but for now rest up!” Hange exclaimed and with that, they were back out the door. You could hear them shooing away the scouts and answering any questions they could. Just as the door was closing, again you got a glimpse of those bright emerald eyes and the way they lit up when they saw you. It was nice hearing their concerns, you smiled to yourself before laying your head back down on your pillow.  

Levi’s bored eyes locked on yours a moment before he turned away to drink a cup of his own steaming tea. And with that, you drifted off yet again. Resting well into the early afternoon .