#angst with a hopeful ending

[lilyevansisamilf7]

Another Life - Spencer Reid

Pairing - Spencer Reid x Fem Reader (Non Specified but imagined fem)

Warnings - not spell checked, character death??, cheating, all cm trigger warnings, Maeve, mentions of eating disorders addiction and suicidal thoughts.

Summary - You we’re ready to marry him, he was ready to leave.

———————————————————————

You fell in love four years ago. Budding new SSA Y/L/N and the marvellous Doctor Reid, the BAUs power couple, attached at the hip - perfect.

And perfect it was, you and spencer had been through everything together. Case after case, his addiction, your own struggles with disordered eating, and everything inbetween, so when he started being distant, and getting migraines, you were sure you could help. You found him the best doctors, geneticists, anything and anyone.

You never thought he’d fall for Maeve Donovan, his geneticist, i mean how could you, you’d seen the ring. He was going to propose, or so you thought, a beautiful amethyst ring hidden in the blazer pocket of his work suit. Not your favourite crystal but you’re sure he had a reason for picking it, he always did.

So you began planning.

And you planned and planned until it suddenly didn’t feel like he was going to propose anymore.

“Spence?” You call out from the kitchen where you’re making dinner.

“Yeah love?” He walks in.

“I was just thinking, do you ever think about marrying me?”

“Well yeah in the future when we’ve settled a bit more, i’m happy how we are right now”

“Oh” You sigh, “What about that ring in your blazer pocket? What’s that for then?”

Silence. You know what that means.

“Is she pretty?” He looks down at his shoes.

Your turn off the stove and wipe your hands on your trousers.

“It’s Maeve isn’t it? The doctor?” You giggle sadly “You always liked them smart”

“Y/n…”

“Does she make you happy?”

“Not like you do”

You scoff. He looks at you confused.

You pick at your nails, crying slightly. “You were the one for me Spence, and I just want you to be happy, I thought that was with me but i guess not anymore” You shrug before grabbing your bag.

“What are you doing?” He try’s to grab your hands.

“Im going to stay with Garcia tonight” You reach the door, “Maybe you can invite Maeve for dinner, i made your favourite. I’ll be back tomorrow to gather my things”

“Please don’t do this..”

“Goodbye Spencer Reid”

———————————————————————

The past month had been hell for you, you didn’t tell anyone the real reason you and Spencer split up, not wanting to ruin his friendships with the rest of the team, but you hadn’t been doing well. You’d lost a lot of weight, stopped going out with the team, and started throwing yourself into your work.

It was plain as day that you were heartbroken.

So when Spencer came in, seeking help for Maeve, you were advised to steer clear of the case. But you were determined to show everyone you were fine.

You worked the hardest on the case and found Diane first, and joined spencer on retrieving Maeve.

You walk in unarmed, as requested by Diane, and see Maeve being held by gunpoint.

“Diane, right?” You try and sound as calm as possible, “I’m Y/n”

“Stay back or I shoot her!”

“She rejected you didn’t she? Your paper? I read it and it was good, just needed a little more evidence”

“What evidence?”

“Someone who wasn’t your parents, who wanted to die”

You breath in

“I can help Diane, you need someone like me, you can kill me”

“You’re trying to trick me!” She exclaims.

“i’m not, Maeve doesn’t want to die, do you Maeve”

She begins to cry begging for her life.

“And you do?”

“I’ve got nothing left to live for”

You look to Spencer sadly.

“Think about it Diane, this gives you the evidence you need” You smile.

“You’re trying to trick me!”

“Fine, I guess Dr Donovan was right” I fake sigh and get a little closer, “You aren’t worth the time or effort”

In an instant, Maeve is thrown to the floor and Diane grabs and shoots you both in the stomach.

You fall to the ground.

Spencer instantly runs to you, cradling you in his arms, your breaths shallow and weak.

“Is Maeve okay?”

Astounded at your care he says “Please don’t worry about her, save your strength, the medics are on their way”

“I don’t think i have the time Spence”

“Please baby” He whispers.

“Are you happy Spence?”

“She’s not you…”

He holds you tight and you reach up to cradle his cheek with your hand, “Please let yourself be happy” A metallic taste covering the inside of your mouth.

As he’s holding you he can feel how much smaller you’ve become. “You’ve not been taking care of yourself” He begins to cry

“It’s not important now,” I whisper, “Spence?”

“Yeah?”

“Do you think i’m another life we made it

He thinks for a moment.

“I’m every universe i will be forever yours, I just wish it could’ve been in this one too” Beginning to sob

“And i will always be yours too, you were it for me Spencer Reid”

His tears fall down quicker than you can wipe them away.

“At least we’ll have all those other lives, we could have that wedding I planned,” I giggle sadly, “You would’ve loved it”

“I should’ve asked you, I wanted it to be you”

“I wanted it to be me too”

Your eyes begin to close, in the distant shouts for medics get louder, the blaring of sirens closer.

“I love you” he whispers, “Please don’t leave me, we’re not done yet”

———————————————————————

[planetpedri]

Could you write something for jobe. Maybe you guys gets into a fight and you’re surrounded by his family all day. They seem to notice the tension but doesn’t say anything but at some point or after a comment from him you break down and leave to be alone in your room. Leaving everyone shocked and surprised by the situation since you guys are very private. Maybe it could be during Christmas or a holiday?! Anyways if you want to. Thanks !

Never is a promise — Jobe Bellingham.

Pairing: Jobe Bellingham x Gn!Reader

Summary: After an argument and some back handed comments during a Christmas dinner, you’re left humiliated and upset, and you realize never was a promise Jobe apparently couldn’t keep.

Word count: 830

Disclaimer/s: arguing, yelling, & angst, ends happishly!

A/N: tbh idk where i was going with this

“It’s not that big of a deal,” you hiss, trying to keep your voice low enough as to not disturb his family that was in the next room.

Jobe lets out a low groan. “Yes, it is!” You’d been arguing for the past ten minutes all because you didn’t mention a job promotion to him before your family.

“Listen, Jobe. Seriously, it��s not a big thing! All it gives me is a higher income, other than that it’s not a big deal! Let it go.” You rub your temples, “can we please just go back to the table? This is embarrassing.”

The boy rolls his eyes, pushing his body away from the counter. “Yeah, sure. Whatever.” He speaks through clenched teeth, glancing to the kitchen door before striding his way through it.

You follow after him, forcing a smile onto your lips as you take your seat beside your boyfriend. Tension flows throughout the dining room, everyone was on edge. It wasn’t like Jobe’s argument with you was subtle. It had started at the table before you had excused the both of you into the kitchen.

“So! How do you like the food?” Denise asks, a wavering smile on her face as she looks in your direction.

You mirror her expression, fork playing with the food on your plate. “Good! Thank you.” You nod, taking a bite although you had no appetite whatsoever.

Silence again. Deafening silence.

“So this promotion—“ Your lips clamp shut, eyes darting to your boyfriend. His jaw clenches tightly, a laugh of disbelief escaping his lips. You loved the woman, but she did not read context clues well.

“Yeah, tell them all about it.” He says sarcastically, eyes finding yours in a heat of annoyance.

That was your final straw. Your eyes flutter to the ceiling, blinking a few times to calm yourself. You slowly stand up, “I need to go take a breather!”

The second you left, making haste to your bedroom, Jobe’s parents, and Jude, look his way with disappointment evident in their faces. “Mate…” Jude sighs, “come on. It’s Christmas.”

Jobe takes a quick glance to the Christmas tree a few feet away, lips pursing tightly. “Stay out of this, Jude.” He was more annoyed at the fact that this was all happening in front of his family, than the original reason you were even fighting over.

Meanwhile, you were sat on your bed, hands rubbing your thighs as you took even breaths. You knew you should’ve told him. But in your head, the promotion wasn’t a big deal. It was small and nearing meaningless, but apparently not to Jobe.

He’d never gotten mad at you. He’d been upset sure, but mad? That was a reaction you had not expected. At the beginning of your relationship, a whole year and a half prior, he’d promised he would never hurt you, never raise his voice. And he hadn’t. Until now. ‘Never’ is a big promise, and you knew you shouldn’t have held it to such a standard.

The soft click of the door opening and shutting had your head snapping up, “What’re you doing?” Your eyes narrow slightly.

Jobe leans against the doorframe, chewing on his cheek. He lets out a long breath, hand running over his face. “Listen—“

“It’s fine.” You snap. You didn’t want to argue, just wanted it to go away. You wanted to enjoy the holiday, to pretend anything even happened.

Too busy staring at your hands, you only notice Jobe sat beside you when the bed dips and your body slips closer to his. Your thighs touch, but you are quick to scoot over. Your boyfriend sighs at the movement.

“I’m sorry, okay? I just wish you told me these things! They’re important to me, and you never tell me things anymore. I mean, it’s not just the promotion.” He clears his throat, “I don’t want to argue with you. I don’t want to fight and ruin the holidays.”

You look back to Jobe, “right. Okay.” No apology from you, which Jobe’s jaw ticks at, but he doesn’t say anything.

“So, we can go back? Talk about this later?” He suggests, playing with the strings of his hoodie. He doesn’t make a move to stand up, though.

Standing up off the bed, you nod. “Yeah, sure.” You begin to walk away, but you’re stopped when Jobe’s hand wraps loosely around your arm, pulling you back into him. His arms securing around your torso, keeping your back flush to him.

Held in his arms, Jobe’s head rests on your shoulder, placing a soft kiss there. “I’m sorry I got upset.” He murmurs, giving you a quick squeeze, which you reciprocate reluctantly. Your hands resting on his arms.

“I know.” You huff, “i’m sorry I didn’t tell you about the promotion.”

Jobe hums into your neck, using his index fingers to turn your chin in his direction. He gives you a dimple showing smile. “I love you, always. Even when I am upset.”

Now you were a little less angry with the whole situation, those few small words meaning more than a petty argument. “I love you too, idiot.” You add, giving him a playful scowl.

Likes , comments , & reblog’s are all appreciated. Let me know if you want tagged in any of my posts <3

DTS , @halfwayhearted @spidybaby !

[fandomnerd9602]

My Tears Ricochet

Bambi!Wanda x Reader

Warning ⚠️ ANGST AHEAD ⚠️

Pain, trauma, grief, all things that can manifest itself in an instant if you’re not careful enough to treat it. For your doe mate, it all came back to her in an instant.

It all began when you and Wanda arrived at the Sanctuary to a whole commotion going on. You ran up to Yelena, Natasha’s wolf sestra, her tail swishing happily.

“What’s going on?!” You asked the blonde haired wolf.

“Natasha went on a solo op,” yelena smiled, “she caught Dreykov. Hauled him right into the courtroom”

“Dreykov?” Wanda asked. You noticed she went pale white, she started stumbling a little.

“Bambi?” Yelena asked before jumping and helping you to catch your die from falling.

Wanda was breathing heavily, her heart rate jumped as the world around her was blurring. She knew that name. In her mind, she was back in that horrible place.

The lights became too bright. The noises became too loud. Tears flooded Wanda’s eyes.

“Wanda?! Bambi?! Baby can you hear me?!Get her out of here!” The voices of you and Yelena seemed to intertwine as Wanda tried to focus herself. She couldn’t focus herself. It was all too much.

“Get away! Get away from me!!!” She shouted, throwing her arms around. You felt a slam of her hand and arm to your face and chest, you fell to the ground in total shock.

Wanda’s vision cleared just enough to see what she did to you. “D-detka? Baby I-I didn’t mean to…”

She bolted. Running down the hallway of the place she had started to see as home.

The only thing that echoed in her ear was you calling after her. “Wanda! Baby it’s okay! I’m fine! Wanda!!!”

Wanda practically locked herself in the supply closet. Curled up in the fetal position, Wanda tried again to steady her thoughts but the memories, the pain, the torture, it all came flooding back.

“Wanda?” Natasha’s calming voice called out to her.

“G-go away” she cried into her long sleeve shirt.

“We’re not going anywhere, my doe” you answered back. You sat there on the ground outside of the closet.

“I’m so sorry,” she whispered against the wood of the door.

“Baby you have nothing to be ashamed of,” you reassured her.

It took a few days but Wanda found herself and you sitting in the waiting room of one Doctor Stephen Strange - the only doctor your doe trusted at this point. But even with that, she found herself shivering just being there.

You tried to reach across to take her hand and calm her but she retracted her hand from yours. It wasn’t that she didn’t yearn for your touch. In her mind, she had hurt you too much already. The red bruise on your face was still evident. Just seeing it caused Wanda’s heart to shatter again.

In truth, the bruise didn’t bother you. Sting a little at first but you knew it was a defense mechanism and your doe could never hurt you intentionally. So you put on a brave face and tried to make sure she still felt loved. But she kept her distance from you still.

“Wanda?” Doctor Strange wandered into the waiting room, his honey badger tail waving side to side.

Wanda got up and you followed suit.

“Sorry (Y/N) this is just Wanda.” He offers you a sad smile. Wanda turns to you a little worried.

“I’m not going anywhere, my doe” you reassure her.

My doe. That phrase once gave her such comfort. Now it almost seemed like a cruel joke after the way she hit you. Wanda felt she could never forgive herself.

She gave you a solemn nod and walked off with Strange, leaving you alone in the waiting room.

Doctor Strange guided Wanda into his little office. She took to sitting on a couch while he took his favorite red chair.

“Wanda, first things first, this is a safe space,” he began softly, “ you can tell me anything and I won’t tell anyone outside of here. So what brings you to my office today?”

“A couple days back, I-I freaked out on my detka.” She tried to explain.

“A panic attack. Okay”

“I-I hit my detka. I-it was an accident! I-I didn’t mean to hurt my…”

Strange raised a hand up, “I know. It was an involuntary reaction to a traumatic memory.”

“Yes.” Wanda took a deep breath and laid her head against the couch’s arm.

“What do you feel triggered it?”

“Dreykov.” The answer came out as a mere whisper as the memories came flooding back again.

The story of her past. It kept her up in the early hours of the morning. The only thing that brought her a soothing balm was the feeling of your arms around her and now even that held a bad memory. All because of her actions.

Her story. The one she laid out for Doctor Strange was as followed:

Wanda Maximoff was born to her momma and poppa along with her twin brother Pietro. At a young age, she and her brother were called freaks for the antlers they had. She did everything she could to hide them, file them down, wear hats, and yet the humiliation continued.

Eventually, at only twelve years old, her home and parents were destroyed in an accident, leaving only Wanda and her brother to survive together. They were on the streets until age sixteen.

That’s when the facility, actually known as the Red Room, found them. The doctors and staff promised room, food and board. It was all a trap.

Countless hours of torture and near death experiences haunted them. Eventually Wanda and Pietro were separated.

Wanda felt truly alone. And then she met another deer hybrid by the name of Vision. He seemed to be from the British forests. He was nice, kind and caring.

Wanda found his kindness and compassion really endearing. She found herself falling in love with him.

Eventually she fell pregnant by him. But then the facility separated them too. And then came the needle pricks, the doctor’s probing, the loud noises, the heavy medication that kept her docile and unable to focus.

And then they came into the world. Her boys. Two of them. She whispered their names in their ears. Billy and Tommy. She was in love the moment she saw them. They were her hopes, her future, all wrapped into two small bodies.

The boys were with her for less than three months when the facility and its director Dreykov came and snatched them away from her. She begged and pleaded but they refused. She hadn’t seen her boys since.

And then came the task force. Natasha, her eventual wolf pal, led her team on the raid of the facility Wanda was trapped in. Natasha was stern yet motherly in all the right ways. A scientist was about to kill Wanda when Natasha burst into the room and slashed the guy to ribbons with her wolf claws.

“Hey there Bambi,” her eventual friend said, “wanna get out of here?” Wanda couldn’t get out of that facility faster.

Wanda then went on to explain how she met you and get butterflies instantly. She didn’t know what it was at the time but she knew she wanted to never leave your side again.

“And now I feel like I messed it up! All because of Dreykov.”

Strange looks to her, “Wanda you are NOT the villain here. You are a survivor. And a brave one at that”

“How do I move on? How do I learn to live again?”

Stephen chuckles, “seems like you’re doing a fine job already with (Y/N).”

“But I feel that I messed that up too!” Wanda buries her face in her hands.

“What would you hope to say to your boys?” Strange asks her gently. “Some day”

“They won’t hurt you ever again. Your momma and poppa will keep you safe. (y/N) is a good mate they will protect you” Wanda hugs her legs to her chest.

“Use that. Make it your mantra.” Stephen gently replies. He takes off his glasses and puts down his notepad, “you are stronger than you know. Smarter than you realize. And braver than most people.”

Tears begin to make their way down Wanda’s porcelain face. “Thank you Doctor Strange.”

“Only speaking the truth.” He gives her a sad smile. “Just take it slowly. You got yourself a wonderful support system with you. (Y/N), Natasha, and the rest of the staff at the sanctuary.”

Wanda gave it some thought. She had Natasha. And at the end of the day, she still had you. A small smile made its way across her face, “I do”

Wanda left that appointment feeling tired and yet a little confident too. You were right there in the waiting room, waiting on your doe.

She came right up to you and hugged you tight. “I love you so much” she whispered in your ear. You rubbed her back reassuringly, making sure that she felt every bit of love that she deserved.

“I love you, my doe” you kiss her shoulder affectionately, “I’m not going anywhere”

It was a long road ahead. But Wanda was confident she could face it. She had you. She had Natasha. And eventually she’d have Pietro and her boys back in her arms.

Tags @lifespectator @olsenmyolsen @julieromanoff @revanshand @russianredassassin @supercorpdanbeau @scarletquake-n7

[ladybyakuya]

| SILVER SOUL + RAFAYEL. 

+cw. —f!reader, reincarnation au + modern au + soulmate au, angst, yearning, one-sided pining, mature content. hints if love triangle if you squint | +wc. — 1k | +syn.— with that money,power and status your client had you thought this would be your breakthrough after working as bodyguard for a while now but it tore your heart apart instead.

+notes. — i’ll say this again. bodyguard job is no joke. insert that meme of [ “do a bodyguard mission.”they said, “it would be fun.” they said.] | redirect to blog navigation. | thanks to @purpleqilinwrites & @hayatoseyepatch for beta reading this piece.

"I love you," Rafayel blurted out as he stared at the painting, part of him wanted to take it back, but the other half knew it did not matter since you must be sleeping somewhere here in this giant Mo Art Studio, in his home while he is drinking wine from the bottle he excavated from the wine cellar. Even though you should be awake and be by his side, you are not. He is all alone in his studio in the dead of night. His face contorts as he takes a few gulps from the bottle and keeps it on the nearby table. He hates it. He likes the taste. He would probably feel chipper and trippy by now but something happened this morning, something he did not expect, and all of this, this unfathomable sealike sadness stemmed from you. He is the God of the Sea, you can’t hurt him yet you did. Even the moon which was full has now turned into a slice, hiding behind the clouds. Even the moon is afraid of him. He scoffs at such sentiment. 

“Ser Rafayel. . . what’re you—

“Shhhhh!” He shushes you with his index finger over his lips. The sound almost comes as sharp as a whistle. His eyes linger on you, fluorescent it seems under the pale moonlight coming through the windows. He is standing in front of a painting almost five feet apart from you as you stand at the entrance of the studio. There are so many questions you want to ask him. What happened when you fainted? What happened to the gigantic sea creature? Why can’t you remember anything? — but all you could ask was, “Are you still mad at me?” voice as feeble as broken shells on the shore. It took you almost an hour to find him since you could not go back to sleep after what happened this morning. So, you’re not going back until you say your thing. Fuck work. Fuck professionalism. You want answers.

Rafayel turns his head in a flash. Mad at you? How could he ever? He is just . . . hurt. Why you ask? He turns his head back to the painting. He blames himself for the way you act now but he can not admit that to himself. Yeah! He is a coward. 

He did not expect you to be so cold after he saved your life. He hired you as your bodyguard for a reason, diluted the boundary of professionalism for a reason yet you have the audacity to tell him off? You might not remember your past life with him but he does and it is so vivid that it hurts to look at the same face that has totally such hostile feelings towards him. You do not know how many human lives it took to meet you again. Ah! This wretched curse. Humans are such vile creatures and it feels like a silver dagger in soul to have you as human in this life while he is a lemurian. If only he knew the way to make you remember . . . why can’t he just add some memories just like he wiped yours when he saved you from the Deluge Wyrmlord?

“Why are you here? Shouldn’t you be asleep?” you swallow as he questions back realizing how dry your throat has become. It seems that he is still mad.

“As should you be too.” He looks at you, eyes red like running lava ready to swallow lives on earth  with a visible crease amongst his eyebrows. “Ser Rafayel.” you add.

Rafayel walks towards the sitting stool that he generally uses while painting but he tumbles in his way and you instantly run at light speed to hold him. “I’m fine. am fine.” He assures raising his hand in the air blocking your way to come to him for any aid he requires now. 

“Can I ask you something?”

“Anything Ser.”

“Am I that appalling to you? He asked his heart aching since it still beats. The question hits you like a stone on a metal door. You do not. You clearly do not. It is just that . . . at that moment you weren’t thinking straight. You thought he did something to you. why do you think so little of me that you thought I did something to you while you were unconscious?"  

Your lips part for a second trying to form an answer that could ease his soul, soothe his mind. The answer is nothing but silence frustrates him to the point that he leaves his seat and stands up. You scoot a little closer fearing he would tumble again. Even though you emptied the wine cellar he managed to find one bottle. He must have a secret place or something. The state he is in, you think, Rafayel is going to forget all these what is happening right now. So, gathering all the courage you had left in your body standing as close as possible to him so that you can catch him if he falls. "You don't have any idea what you're doing to me." The amount of slur in his voice and the way his feet are wobbly he is gonna fall any second. . .and as you expected he falls like a withering petal in your arms. With utmost ease, you jock down on the floor. There is still a little bit of consciousness in his body but not enough to reject your help as he did just a while ago. 

He lulls into slumber with his head lying on your lap as he mumbles being under the influence of alcohol. "I'm in love with you," He snuggles more into your lap like a cat; so much for being afraid of them. "I'm in love with you and it sucks because I know you'll never love me back. Not in this life." As you hear his even breathing followed by slow purrs. You poke his cheek a little. He is asleep. Ah! Perfect timing.

[runraerun]

darling, dearest, dead

written for the @steddiemicrofic challenge for November | prompt: guard | wc: 532 | rated: G | cw: major character death (but not really?) | tags: angst with a hopeful ending, Ghost!Steve Harrington, GhostHunter!Eddie Munson

There’s a legend that the first person who gets buried in a cemetery becomes the guardian of all the other souls buried there after. They become a reaper of sorts, ferrying the newly dead from this world to the next—a place they can never go.

This is what happens to Steve Harrington, aged just eighteen when he tragically dies in the Starcourt tragedy in ‘85.

Steve, who dies but doesn’t move on. Doesn’t go peacefully into that good night, or however the hell the saying goes. He can’t.

Steve, who attends his own burial, but despite how loud he screams into the faces of his loved ones, goes entirely unheard.

He eventually gets it, of course. Despite what everyone thinks (thought? Do they still think of him?) Steve isn’t stupid. He catches on quickly when the first few souls come wandering up to him, lost and alone. Steve can see the path they’re supposed to follow, even when they can’t. So, Steve takes the time to explain to them what he knows, tries to comfort them, before guiding them towards the afterlife.

It’s a curse, really. Eternal isolation. Decades pass but Steve remains. The few souls he speaks to are always so eager to leave him. In the end, Steve’s left alone.

And then one day, Eddie Munson comes stomping through his cemetery.

—🛡️—

“What’s with the get up?” A dark haired stranger asks, startling Steve, “there an anime convention going on or something?”

Steve’s eyes trail up and down the newcomer. He wants to make a comment about the strange attire he died in, but upsetting the newly departed usually isn’t a good idea.

“It’s my work uniform. I didn’t have time to change.” Steve explains, a well-rehearsed response. The Scoops uniform that he can never shed was always a point of interest for people. “Sorry, I didn’t see you come in.”

This is the first time Steve’s missed a burial. Strange.

The guy snorts, “don’t apologize. I’m the one intruding. You visiting someone? I can wait to do my shit.”

Steve frowns, brows creasing where they come together. “No. I’m just… waiting.” He answers.

“For the ghost?” The stranger asks, his interest clearly piqued.

Steve blinks. “The ghost?”

“Yeah, y’know. The ghost that supposedly haunts this graveyard. Legend has it it’s some guy who died way back in the 80’s—there've been sightings for like, thirty years, but no one’s been able to actually record anything decent. All the pictures are super blurry. But I intend to change that. I’m Eddie, by the way. Ghost hunter and semi-professional psychic.” Eddie grins, giving a strange little bow in his introduction.

Wait…

“1985?” Steve asks.

“Yep,” Eddie pop’s the ‘p’, “The year Starcourt burned down and old Steven Harrington bit the dust. You know the story?”

Steve didn’t need to breathe—not anymore. And yet, he still felt short of breath. Lightheaded.

“It’s just Steve.” He clarifies.

“Yeah?” Eddie snorts, “how would you—”

A light seems to go off in Eddie’s head. He pales, eyes widening.

“You can really see me?” Steve can’t help but laugh, tears stinging his eyes.

“Yeah, I can see you, Steve.” Eddie mumbles, stunned, looking like he’d seen a ghost.

—

tagging: @sleepy-steve because they let me rant about reaper Steve to them<3 check out her reaper!eddie fic: here!💘

[marimosalad]

Fallen angel.

Inspired by my favorite Raphael x Astarion fic, In the Name Of by Darkhorse6

[natalievoncatte]

“We don’t have a friendship, Supergirl.”

It took a moment for it to sink in. Lena stood before her, chin proud, staring her down with enough force to that Kara knew she wasn’t the most powerful woman in the world, no matter what they said. She wasn’t even the most powerful woman in this room.

Kara could push press an attack submarine. She could move between the ticks of a clock, perceive things so small and so fast they could barely be said to have happened at all. She’d bested foes that had humbled the Man of Steel. She’s outclassed even him.

Yet in this moment, she was all but powerless. There was nothing she could do with all her strength. All of this had been about weapons. Kryptonite. Lena needed neither to destroy Kara. She needed only cutting words.

“U-understood,” Kara mumbled.

She felt her shoulders draw in and sag, felt herself shrinking back into her own skin. Supergirl was banished instantly, and suddenly a defeated, frail Kara Danvers stood in her place, feeling silly in her cape and skirt. Her boots pinched her feet and everything was too tight. She could barely breathe.

“Ishouldgo,” she gasped out, fleeing, running, getting the hell away from here. She took the fastest available route until she was airborne, slipping the burly bonds of Earth.

The rush of pressure and the concussive wave built up around her skin and cut loose, releasing a rolling boom over National City. By the time Kara slowed and came to a hover, she was over the Pacific Ocean, calm blue seas stretching out in an endless expanse.

She relaxed, hanging impossibly above the clouds, absorbing pure sunlight.

Bitterly, she remembered when she’d tried to abandon Kara Danvers, not long ago. It had seemed that a life outside of Supergirl, outside of endless battles and self-sacrificing service, was pointless, and hurtful. Fitting in brought pain, forced her into a world that was all angles and wrong turns, lying to everyone around her and forbidden the simple concepts they all had. She was a stranger in a strange land, always seeking acceptance and understanding of peculiar customs, dogged by an incessant need.

It was one she barely admitted, but it was there, always there, just over her shoulder and ready to lead the assault when the walks came closing in.

Why her?

Out of all her people, her entire race, why was she the lone survivor? And she was, because while Kal was Kryptonian by birth, he had escaped Krypton. Kara had survived it.

Survival offered no escape.

For him, his birthright was a joy. Incredible powers, a sacred calling, a love of adventure and excitement. Kara could only imagine how wonderful it must have been for him when he discovered it all.

Oh, he mourned, or tried to. Kara bitterly indulged his laments for his lost world; a world he’d never walked, customs he’d never shared. His parents were a blessing to him, but to her they were her aunt an uncle, real people that Kara had lost.

Being Kara Danvers was difficult and painful. Being Supergirl was difficult and painful- now with the world killers, it seemed to Kara that Earth might have been better off had Krypton never noticed this yellow star or the beautiful blue world that orbited it.

Maybe Krypton was meant to end, and maybe Kara…

Maybe Kara…

Tears stung her eyes and she blinked them away. She’d ruined everything. Lena Luthor was kind, and good, and had spent weeks risking her life trying to help a friend, and what had Kara done? Made it about her. She’d wrapped everything around herself. She’s torn Lena’s relationship apart because she just could not believe that her best and most trusted friend wouldn’t hurt her.

It made sense when she was doing it. Was she not doomed? Had she not watched her world die? Kara had been a little girl one day and the next she was trapped in hell, her mother’s touch still felt on a tear-scored cheek.

Kara screamed. Red-sun fury exploded from her eyes, burning the sky itself. It wasn’t fair. It wasn’t fucking fair!

When the scream faded from her throat, leaving it ragged and dry, her eyes aching from the wild energy blast, she was still hanging in the air.

A terrible inevitability settled within her chest. She knew what she had to do, but she didn’t know if she had the strength. She could overcome any foe, break any barrier, reach any height. She was Supergirl. She could do anything.

“I have to take responsibility for what I’ve done,” Kara told the sky.

The sky didn’t answer her. She closes her eyes and absorbed Sol’s warmth. Sometimes, Kara really wished these stars were gods, that the golden light that gave her limitless power could give her answers, that Sol could be a nurturing mother, taking in a wanderer so far from Rao’s grace.

It wasn’t. It was a superheated ball of hydrogen undergoing nuclear fusion. There were no answers in the sky. There were none anywhere. She’s have to find them on her own.

Kara first went back to her apartment, resolving to do this right. She changed into one of her favorite outfits (Lena had once made a curious compliment about Kara’s biceps, the last time she’d worn it) and texted her best friend, asking to meet soon.

Lena, predictably, replied that she was busy.

Kara thought of Lena, not as Supergirl, but as herself. Lena toiling in that lab in desperation, not feeding herself

She was tempted to say that Supergirl told her about the lab and the situation and beg to be allowed to help, but there had to be a better way. An honest way.

I know you’re busy. I just want to make sure you get something to eat and you’re okay. Just a few minutes.

The reply came a moment later.

Oh, alright. You know I can’t say no to you.

Kara’s heart leapt and crumped at the same time. She let out a slow breath and decided to grab something on the way, something she could leave if Lena threw her out.

When she arrived, Lena had moved to her office. She was sitting behind her desk, and as much as she’d look remarkable out together earlier, she was showing her fatigue now. There were bags under her eyes and she’d changed into a loose sweatshirt, and Kara thought she might fall asleep on her desk.

When she looked at Kara, her face lit up with such admiration and affection that Kara’s heart could have burst in her chest. In the fading afternoon light, most like that of her lost star, Lena seemed impossibly beautiful and perfect, the sharp-tongued being of cold fury replaced by someone small and soft that Kara simply had to cup in her hands and protect and…

Oh.

Oh Rao.

FUCK.

Kara almost dropped the bag of donuts. She couldn’t do this. Not now. Not today. She couldn’t do this she couldn’t, she couldn’t lose… couldn’t lose…

Lena.

It was like seeing her for the first time. Kara sucked in a drawing breath and had to let it out very slowly, as a new and perilous understanding took root and changed everything.

“Do I look that bad?” Lena said, but there was no heat in it.

“You look beautiful,” Kara answered in a breathy voice, before she could stop herself.

Lena smirked. “You’re too nice. Are those donuts?”

Kara gently placed them on the desk, and she looked. Stared.

One of the gifts, and curses, of Kryptonian physiology was an eidetic memory. This moment would live in her mind and heart until the day she died, so she dragged it out for as long as she could, to keep it. To keep the sight of this woman who truly treasured Kara. Just Kara.

“Kara?” Lena said, confused and maybe a little scared.

“I have to tell you something,” said Kara.

“What is it?” said Lena, always so eager to help.

Kara’s hands balled into fists, arms trembling. The tears broke before she worked up the will to say it.

“Earlier today, you asked me why it’s so important to me that we be friends.”

Lena stared blankly for a too-short moment, and then her eyes went wide. She rocked back in her chair as if struck, then bolted out of it, rounding the desk. Kara stood still, unable to face her, and watched it all reflected in the desk.

“Look at me.”

Kara didn’t move.

“Look at me!”

Kara looked. With shaking hands, Lena grasped the frames of her glasses and pulled them free, setting them aside. Kara then flinched as Lena reached behind her, the gesture so much like an embrace, so curiously intimate that Kara’s own body betrayed her, her heart hammering in her chest.

Lena released Kara’s hair and it spilled in curls around her shoulders.

“Oh my God,” Lena whispered.

“I’m sorry,” Kara whimpered, the tears hot on her cheeks. “Lena, please, I’m sorry.”

“It was all a lie. You were lying to me the whole time.”

No, she wanted to scream, I never lied, I didn’t, you had no right to know, I was protecting you. A hundred futile excuses crashes through her mind and when they were gone only the truth remained.

“I was scared,” Kara choked out. “I was so scared and then I messed it up and I was even more scared and I just kept trying to fix it. I’m sorry.”

Lena was crying, too. The tears fell freely, though her expression remained still, calculating.

“I would do anything for you. I would die for you. I don’t know why I did what I did…”

“You pretended to be another fucking person and talked my boyfriend into spying on me while pretending to be my friend.”

“I wasn’t pretending,” Kara pleased. “I am your friend. You mean so much to me, more than I’ve ever told you and I was scared.”

“Of what?” said Lena. “That I’d make Kryptonite and kill you with it? Make weapons to kill you? I thought you really believed in me, Kara. I listened to your bullshit and I believed it and you were just fucking… you were… you bitch!”

Kara stood, transfixed, as Lena came apart in front of her.

“Why did you have to do this? Why did you have to tell me now? Why did you take my Kara away from me when I needed her most?”

Kara sucked in a shuddering breath and hugged herself.

“Because I deserve this. You deserve the truth and I deserve the consequences for what I’ve done. I did hurt you just like you said, and I thought I could just smooth it over and charm my way into fixing it, but I can’t. I’m a fuckup. I make things worse just by existing.”

Lena shuddered and formed her hands into fists. “Don’t you say that. Don’t you say that to me ever again.”

“This is my fault. I made this happen. I should have told you after you saved the world. The first time, with Medusa. If I trusted you, you could have come to me and we could have saved Sam together. You trusted me and I hurt you.”

“Are you going to ask for forgiveness? Is that where this is going?”

“No. I don’t deserve it.”

“Then what do you want?”

“Let me help you with Sam, and then I’ll leave you alone. I know I can’t come back from this. I can’t fix it. I don’t know what else to do.”

“Leave me alone?” Lena snapped, jabbing a finger into Kara’s chest. “What the fuck? You think you can just crash into my life like this and then just leave?”

“I… I…”

“How about this,” said Lena, stepping closer, her green eyes full of fury. “How about you ask me what I want instead of telling me?”

Kara swallowed.

“What do you want?”

Lena stepped back.

“I want to save my friend. I want Ruby to have her mom back. I want to fix the world. I need your help to do that, whether I want it or not.”

“And then?”

“And then…” said Lena. “Then I want to know why. I want to know why you did this to me and what the hell you really want, and then I’ll decide if there’s anything worth saving with you, or if I’m going to go back to Metropolis and rebuild my life.”

“That… that’s… I’ll help.”

“What do you want?”

Kara swallowed.

“I… I ummm…” Kara reached for glasses that were no longer there. “I want to try again. I want to be your friend again, as my whole self. There’s so much I could share with you.”

Lena swiped the tears away from her eyes, and stilled herself, regaining her control.

“I’ll be in the lab. I’ll call for you when I need you.”

Lena heard for the door, stopping at the threshold.

“Kara,” said Lena, without turning.

“Yeah?” Kara said, thickly.

“The night Edge was trying to set me up… the plane. Would you really have dropped the chemicals if I couldn’t make the jump?”

Kara took her glasses from the desks, turning them in her hands, and drew in a breath.

“Yes,” said Kara. “I’d have found a way to fix somehow, but if it was the only way, yes. I’d have let them fall, but I’d never let you fall. I said I’d always protect you, and that was the truth. I always will. No matter what.”

Lena hesitated at the door, then left without a word.

[mendeshoney]

don’t tell me you’re my heartbreaker

Summary: You weren’t expecting Mat to come back to you.

Pairing: mat barzal x f!reader

Word Count: 10,251

Warnings: post breakup, verbal disagreement, angst, make up sex, angst with a happy ending, second chance romance

A/N: happy freaky friday, i have returned lol. thank you to @m00nlightdelights​ for beta reading this and being my hype person, ily<3

Why you had agreed to this, you had no idea.

Even now, sitting here, across from an unsurprisingly empty chair, every instinct, every nerve ending in your body is telling you to run, to flee, to get the fuck out of here and run down the few blocks it would take to get to the train station to get away from all of this.

From this, terrible, horrible, no good, very bad idea. 

You anxiously checked the time on your watch once more, the glaring 6:28 PM letting you know there were exactly two minutes till the agreed time of 6:30 pm, and once that time arrived, you would start the timer for what you were considering a generous fifteen minutes. 

If he wasn’t in this chair across from you at 6:45 pm, sharp, you would give into your body’s response and bolt. 

And then that would be it, right? You’d be able to put everything that had happened into a box sealed with a neat little bow, store it away to be forgotten and move the fuck on.

You could deal with that.

…Right?

You checked your watch again.

6:29 PM.

The waiter comes back to your table, dropping off the two glasses of water, a basket of bread rolls and a little dish of butter, along with the diet coke and glass of wine you’d ordered for yourself, and the whiskey on the rocks you’d ordered for him. 

You really shouldn’t have done it. 

Would it send him the wrong message?

No. you chided yourself. There's nothing wrong with being polite. Be the bigger person.

Besides, if his tastes somehow changed in a month and a half, and if he wanted something else to drink, he could get it himself once he showed up.

If he showed up.

Immediately after the waiter turned his back on you, you reached for your wineglass and took a large gulp, trying to psych yourself up. Trying to remind yourself that despite what you were feeling, you did have the upper hand here. He asked you to be here, and you could leave at any time you wanted.

You checked your watch again as you put your wineglass back down to the table.

6:30 PM.

He gets a generous fifteen minutes and that’s it. You reminded yourself sternly. 

The second the thought formed in your head, the door to the restaurant flew open and your eyes betrayed your attempt to appear nonchalant about all of this, immediately flying to the door and observing as Mat entered in a rush of limbs, pulling the toque off of his head and smoothing a gloved hand over his hair.

You continued to watch, keeping your expression blank as he weaved through the tables and straight for you, plopping down into his seat with a hushed but rushed, “I’m so sorry, I didn’t think traffic would be so crazy, had I known I swear I would’ve taken the subway or an Uber instead of taking my car, and-”

“Breathe,” you say gently, taking in the deepening flush of his cheeks. “It’s fine.”

Mat exhales, taking off his gloves and stuffing them in his jacket pocket, before shrugging it off and letting it hang on his seatback. He ruffles his hair anxiously one more time, then finally, finally looks at you.

Your stomach twists.

Shit.

You were worried about this. You’d managed to get over him - well, about eighty five percent of the way over him, at least - but you were worried that the minute he gave you his full attention, the minute you looked into his eyes, you’d be catapulted back into his orbit and it would be like the last month and a half you’d spent trying to exorcize him, your relationship, and all the memories tied up in between, would have been for nothing.

It’s not all of that quite yet, but your heart starts incessantly hammering against your ribcage anyway, and you fight to keep your expression blank, trying to resist the urge to be launched back into his gravitational pull.

His expression, however, falters, and the instant smile that spreads across his face when you manage to make and maintain eye contact for longer than a second is brilliantly bright. 

“Hi,” Mat breathes. “Sorry I’m late.”

“You’re technically right on time.” You counter, then lower your gaze to the drinks and bread in front of you, trying to look anywhere but at him.

Gorgeous fucker. 

Stupidly beautiful. 

Annoyingly perfect.

His eyeline follows yours, and he frowns for a second, before a look that you can only describe as fond takes over his face. “You ordered for me?”

“Just the drinks,” you clarify. “The waiter said he’d be back to take our orders once you got here.”

“Well,” he says, looking into your eyes, “Thank you. I appreciate it.”

You shrug, not really considering it a big deal and he leans forward, clasping his hands on the table when he says “It really means a lot that you agreed to meet me here.”

You assess him a little, and when you find he’s being sincere, all you can do is nod. There's still a ball of anxiety in the pit of your stomach, and your walls climb all the way up, barricading what’s left of your heart behind its stone barriers, and keeping it close. 

Mat can clearly sense this, can sense you keeping yourself at a distance if the small frown that starts to form on his lips is anything to go by, but it’s gone as quickly as it appeared, and he plows forward. “I know…I know that things didn’t exactly end well, and I wanted to apologize for that. I wanted…I wanted to talk this out. Talk about us.”

You nod again, because he’d said as much when he called you out of the blue this morning, but it’s what he says next that nearly gives you whiplash.

“I want to give this another shot.”

You blink, partially stunned.

That is…not what you expected him to say at all.

When he called, said he’d wanted to talk about everything, you assumed it was for closure, assumed it was so they could maybe finish the half-finished angry conversation you’d been having the day you broke up, when he called it quits out of nowhere and then walked out.

You hadn’t been expecting…this. 

“You…what?” You stutter out. 

He nods, vehement, grabbing a roll and his butter knife, stabbing a little ball of butter on the end of it and going about buttering a roll for you and then himself - a habit of his now, you’re sure - like this is all completely normal.

“Yeah,” Mat says, gaining confidence with each word he speaks. “I’ve been thinking a lot about what you said that day. About what you’d been trying to tell me this whole time, and you’re right. I wasn’t exactly the best boyfriend to you. I didn’t put you first, I took advantage of you, got scared, and when it mattered most to you, I couldn’t give you what you needed, but that’s not true anymore.”

He puts the roll on the little plate in front of you, then goes about making his own, continuing on like you’re not sitting there gaping at him. “I know I said a lot of things. A lot of awful things, no, horrible things, things that I didn’t mean. And I know I can never take it back, but I hope I can at least…try to make things better?”

Watching you, Mat takes a moment, gauges your reaction. You realize he’s waiting for you to say something, but the only thing you can manage is a small “huh.”

He swallows. “I uh, I know there's a lot to unpack, and I know I have a lot to explain to you, but I wanted to at least put all my cards on the table as to where I’m coming from.”

It’s all too much, and you feel like your body malfunctions a bit, your hands coming up to stop him from speaking any further. “I’m sorry…I just, I need a second to process.”

He closes his mouth, nodding, watching you closely, eyes getting a little wide as you grab your wine glass again to take another large gulp, nearly draining it before reaching for your buttered roll and taking a bite to try to calm your nerves. You both sit there, Mat watching you, and when you finish the roll after a couple of minutes and you manage to gather some semblance of sanity, you hesitantly meet his gaze.

“I don’t understand.” You say. “You…want to get back together?”

“Yeah,” he says, a little sheepish now. “I would like that.” When you don’t answer, or return his smile, it drops a little, only reaching the corners of his mouth. “Unless…unless you don’t want that?”

You grab your wineglass again, downing the last of it and trying to gather all of your thoughts.

There was…definitely a lot to unpack there.

You certainly hadn’t been prepared to discuss…getting back together with him. Even though there was a space in your still recovering heart that desperately ached for the prospect to be with him again, to go back to that little slice of paradise the two of you had managed to carve out for yourselves in the dreary winter of last year. 

To go back to spending snowy days cuddled up together in his bed, to return to your spring outings in the many parks New York had to offer, to go back to Summer with him in Vancouver and spending days at the lake, spend fall with him cozied up with warm cups of coffee or hot chocolate or spiked cider.

But that was…gone now. 

You’d worked hard in the last month and a half to convince yourself that this, him and you, your relationship and any chance of it coming back was gone. 

Because it was. You’d fought, explained that you loved him but needed a little more from him, wanted more from him. He fought back, he’d said things, called it quits and then walked out because that was what he said he wanted. And if he was willing to go that far, you need to believe it was what you should want, too.

You were right to worry about agreeing to meet with him for dinner.

I should have left at 6:25, you curse yourself. 

“I don’t know, Mat.” You say finally, honestly. “I don’t think that’s a good idea.”

The smile that had been lingering at the corner of his mouth slightly disappears. “What’s not a good idea?”

“Any of it,” you say honestly, pushing the words out of your mouth with a tired breath. “I just don’t think that’s a good idea.”

Mat’s quiet for a moment. You can’t read the expression on his face, can’t parse out what he’s thinking or what he’s feeling. It’s a little daunting, seeing as how you used to be able to read him like a book.

But trying to exorcize him from your mind when you were broken up meant forgetting, and you’d clearly managed to forget more than you originally thought. 

His whiskey on the rocks be damned. 

Said whiskey was still in his glass, untouched, and Mat stared at it for a second before looking at you, nodding. “Okay.”

You raised a brow in suspicion. “Okay?”

He nods, pulling out his wallet and flipping through a few bills. “Yeah, okay. I can respect that.”

You can’t help but stare at him, only a little confused.

When he’d called you out of the blue this morning, he seemed eager. He said he wanted to see you, have dinner, and talk to you about something important. You could practically sense the adrenaline running through his veins, could hear the hard thuds of his heartbeat through the phone. And while you knew Mat was always the kind of guy who was mature enough to take no for an answer, his response made you a little surprised that he wasn’t going down without a fight.

“Come on,” he says gently, placing a couple of bills on the table - more than enough to cover the drinks you’d ordered and a generous tip - before standing up, and extending his hand towards you. “I’ll bring you home.”

“Mat you don’t have to-”

“I’m going to,” he insists. “I asked you out, almost got here late. It’s the least I can do.”

With a moment’s hesitation you could tell Mat didn’t like by the flex of his jaw, you placed your hand in his, accepting his help as you stood up. Together, you both put on your own coats, gathered your things, and exited the restaurant. 

You follow Mat to his car, thanking him as he opens your door, making sure you were secure before getting in on the driver’s side and peeling away from the curb.

“Do you want me to stop to get you something to eat?” He offers. “I just realized I all but dragged you out of there, but you probably didn’t even eat yet.”

“No, I’m okay.” You assure him, albeit lying a little. You had been starving, but his choice of conversation curbed your appetite quickly. 

“Are you sure?” He offers. “I can stop somewhere, or order a pizza.”

You shake your head, “No, thank you. Just take me home.”

The rest of the drive is silent, save for Mat’s radio playing lowly in the background. You keep your eyes trained out the window, refusing to acknowledge Mat or his constant fidgeting. You know it’s a sign that he’s got something to say, probably wants to bring up your decision at the restaurant, or maybe insist on dinner, but thankfully, he keeps his mouth closed.

Once he gets to your apartment, he parks outside, making a point of saying “Stay right there,” as you reach for your door handle.

With a small roll of your eyes, you indulge him, waiting patiently for him to round the car and open your door for you. You take his outstretched hand, allowing him to help you onto the curb and dropping it the second you can stand upright.

He locks his car, escorting you into your building and following along with you in the elevator like he always used to.

“Always gotta make sure you get in safely,” he used to say when you chastised him about this before. “I need to see it with my own two eyes.”

When you finally reach your front door, you find that you just want him to leave, and can’t seem to get him out of your hair quick enough.

You reach for your keys in your purse, fumbling a couple of times trying to get the stupid thing into the lock. 

“Let me get it,” he offers, reaching for your shaking hands, but you snatch them away before he can touch you, taking a step back.

“I don’t need your help, Mat!” You nearly shout, almost regretting it when you take in his expression.

Almost.

“Hey,” he says, hurt lacing his voice as he frowns. “I was just trying to-”

“I know!” You sigh out, frustrated and exhausted. “I know what you were trying to do, Mat. I appreciate it.”

“Then what’s the issue?” He asks, hands gesturing between the two of you. 

“I thought tonight was about getting closure Mathew, not getting back together!” You exclaim, exasperated. You fall back against the wall closest to your door, head thumping gently back against it. “It took me by surprise and now I feel like everything is upside down.”

“It doesn’t have to be!” He counters, just as exasperated as you. “It can be simple, it can be easy, if you just let me-”

“Why would I let you say anything to me?” You snap, your angry gaze cutting him straight down the middle. 

“Because I still love you!” His confession takes you by surprise, and he crowds into your space, the heat coming off of his body in waves. “I love you, and I want this. I want us back, and I just want to work this out.”

You can’t find the words for a small moment, taken aback by the sincerity in his eyes, and how he’s behaving like nothing happened. “After the way you spoke to me when we broke up? After the things you said?” That seems to shut him up. “You really think you deserve another chance?”

At your words, Mat could see the wall you were slowly building up to keep him away, to shut him out and push him away for good. If he wasn’t upset before, he definitely was now. He feels so close to seething, his chest rising up and down with every angry breath. He is angry, yes, but not at you, never at you. At himself. He presses his hands on either side of your head, resting on the very wall he had your body pressed up against so many times before. 

Before, when he’d bring you home, press you against this wall by your door and make out with you for what felt like hours, before eventually dragging you inside when you could hear people coming up the stairs or when the elevator dinged. 

But now, he was so livid, so fucking angry with himself that he felt like if he tried hard enough, he could push his hands through the brick, felt like if he closed his fists, he’d pound into the masonry until it was rubble.

“Don’t shut me out.” He pleads. “I know what I said was awful, but-”

“No buts.” You respond. Your tone was dry, your eyes empty. You were looking right at him, but all Mat felt was hollow, like you were looking right through him instead. 

“Baby, I want to make you understand but-”

“No buts.” You repeat, a little firmer, a little louder. It took the breath right out of him. “Every time you say ‘but,’ it negates everything you said in front of it.”

You’d said that once before, he remembered. You were saying it to Tito, giving him advice on how to make up with a girl after they’d fought, explaining how to communicate better instead of making things worse. Mat remembers how tuned in he was to you talking to Tito about it, how he couldn’t help but feel like you were sharing a piece of yourself in turn, that he didn’t realize he was staring at you until someone cleared their throat.

Here and now, with your beautiful eyes looking through him like glass, he wishes he could’ve stayed in that moment. Wishes he listened to his gut all those months and didn’t take this risk.

That he didn’t risk losing you.

He was so sure all of this would have ended with him breaking your heart. 

Now you were breaking his.

“Baby,” he chokes out. “I just didn’t think that I could be what you needed back then. I didn’t think I was good enough to be what you needed, okay?”

“But if you loved me, you would’ve at least tried.” You reason.

Mat shakes his head. “I do love you. Love you. I just didn’t want you to get hurt, can’t you see that? There’s nothing wrong with you. You’re beautiful, you’re perfect, so perfect it makes my chest ache.”

“Is that why you called me clingy?” You deadpan, recalling his exact words the last time you saw one another. “Is that why you said my emotions were too much? Why you said I was asking you for too much? Is that why you said it felt like I was suffocating you by asking you for more? I’m so perfect that it makes you feel sick just being so close to me all the time? Is that the ‘ache’ you were talking about? There’s nothing wrong with me now, but you weren’t willing to try to do anything more to be with me back then? Is that why you did all of this? Because the whole ‘it’s not you it’s me’ bullshit you’re spewing right now contradicts that a lot, you know.”

“I didn’t mean that.” He pleads. “I didn’t, I swear. I just said all of that-”

“To make me believe it.” There’s no emotion in your voice or your eyes, no light, no wonder, no window into what you’re thinking. All the fire and molten heat that’s usually there is gone. 

It's all my fault. He thinks miserably. 

Mat swallows thickly, hoping he didn’t snuff out your flame and make you shutter yourself away, but it’s no use. He knows it’s his fault. “Well,” you begin, placing one palm flat on his chest and pushing. “Congratulations. I do.”

He goes easily, taking a step back even though it feels like he’s putting miles between you both. It dawns on him when his hands fall to his sides lamely that he could have touched you, kissed you one last time just then, and since he didn’t, he probably never will again.

“You were right.” You say simply. “That day, when you said that when people show their true colors we should believe them. And I believe you, Mat. I believe all of you. Especially the version of you that you really are. And that version of you? Doesn’t want to be with me.” 

After every word, all the fight dies out of him a little as you push yourself off the wall, not sparing a single glance at him as you walk away, dragging his battered heart with you as you enter your apartment, and lock him out.

~

Your heart pounds as you finally throw your apartment door shut behind you and lock it and struggle with everything in your power not to collapse to the floor.

Idiot.

Fucking beautiful idiot.

You can’t do this now, can’t cry and weep and mourn for something that was already over. But deep down, you still believed that what you both had was real. You hoped and prayed with the last shreds of positivity that you owned that for once, for one small moment, this thing with Mat would allow you to exist outside of yourself and have something real, something tangible. That he would fight for it.

And even that was taken away from you.

And yet, you should have known it was all too good to be true. Hell, you did know. And you hoped anyway.

A mild trill sounds from your purse - your phone - and you groan, trying so desperately to push the pain of your heartbreak away. 

You wipe furiously at your face, willing away tears that threaten to surface while trying to shove your emotions down. You tear off your purse, coat, scarf, and make quick work of throwing your hair into a bun before wrenching open the closet and stripping down, tossing your clothes into your hamper before stomping into your bathroom. 

Your phone rings again, and you let out a pathetic cry of frustration, stomping back to where you left it and fishing it out.

It’s Mat, and his name fills your screen with his text messages. 

Please baby, please talk to me 

Let me fix this baby

I need you to know how sorry I am

If anything baby, please believe I never meant to hurt you

I need you

You fling your phone toward your bed with an angry scream that turns into a sob, and you sink to your knees on the plush carpet of your bedroom. 

Isn’t this what you wanted, once upon a time? Someone to fight for you, fight to keep you, fight to win you back, to be lusted after, desired. 

You weren’t sure you wanted this anymore.

You’d dated others, but you never felt heartbreak with them.

You did with Mat, though. You felt every crack in your heart. Felt the sadness, the sorrow, the misery.

With Mat, he seemed to make you feel everything and more.

And that was why this hurt so bad.

Because you felt it all anyway.

You fell together anyway.

You loved him anyway.

Love him anyway.

Fuck.

~

It’s hours later, getting close to eleven at night and you’re sipping on your late night glass of wine when your apartment’s intercom buzzes.

Despite your better judgment, you get up from your spot on the couch to answer it, figuring it’s probably your neighbor two doors down who forgot her keys - again - after a night out.

You press the intercom to talk, saying “You owe me wine for this, Isabella.” 

The voice that comes back is not Isabella’s at all.

“It’s me.”

You nearly drop your wine glass, what little alcohol you’ve had tonight rushing through your veins and to your brain quickly, too quickly, and you’re pressing the intercom again before you can register what you’re doing.

“Mathew?”

“Yeah. Can I come up? I was hoping we could talk…talk again, I mean. I didn’t like how I acted earlier, and I-”

You’re pressing the buzzer to let him in before he can finish his sentence, not necessarily needing or wanting to hear the rest of his plea. The last thing you need is for anyone to spot him on your doorstep this late at night.

There was a small part of you that was grateful you’d managed to shower after the little semi-breakdown you had after getting back from dinner. Although now you regretted putting on the silky tank top and shorts pajama set.

Definitely can’t open the door wearing that. 

You quickly place your wineglass on your nightstand, running to your dresser fully intending to grab clothes to change, but then your doorbell rings, and, well.

You could stall, could change anyway, but you don’t need him in the hallway any longer than necessary in case your neighbors spot him.

So instead, you trod over to the door, opening it to find Mat standing there in black sweatpants and a black shirt, his hands in his pockets and his hair a little damp, though thoroughly disheveled, as if he’s been running his hands through it over and over again since getting out of the shower.

You step to the side, allowing him in, and he crosses the threshold, taking off his shoes and putting them next to yours like he’s done hundreds of times before. You shut the door behind him, taking your time locking it to try to catch your breath.

He goes to sit on your couch, then pauses halfway there, unsure. 

This was where it happened, after all. In your living room.

Where you’d fought, he’d spewed his venom, broke your heart, then walked out. 

Deciding you also don’t want to sit on the couch, you walk past him, leading him into your bedroom. It’s probably not the best idea, but it’s the safest alternative. 

You sit at the edge of your bed, and Mat leans himself against your dresser, feeling too antsy to sit down.

“I’m sorry,” He starts. “For how I acted earlier, I didn’t mean to make it seem like I had a right to your time.”

You shrug. “It’s okay.” 

Mat shakes his head. “It wasn’t. And it also wasn’t fair of me to ask you out to dinner and not explain my intentions behind it. Dropping that on you at dinner wasn’t fair either, and I didn’t mean to blindside you with it.”

You nod, reply on the tip of your tongue when Mat forges on. “I realize I have no right to ask anything of you, and no right to ask for the space to explain myself, but I’d like to, if you’d let me.”

It takes you a second, but you already know your answer before you’re speaking the words. “I’ll let you.” You say softly. 

This conversation has the beginnings of closure to it, and no matter what direction it goes in, you need to hear what he has to say if there’s any hope for you to either move past this, or move on from him.

So you let him talk.

Mat takes a deep breath. “I was feeling a lot of things that day. Frustration over the season, how it ended, and then family stuff, more stuff with the surgery. And you were there every step of the way, and I appreciated it, I really did. I guess I just felt…overwhelmed? Overstimulated? There was so much to do and say and I felt like I just needed to be alone for a second, just to breathe.”

He takes another breath, his eyes furrowing as he tries to recall how it was for him back then, trying to say the right things the right way. “You weren’t clingy. You weren’t suffocating me. You weren’t too much, and your emotions weren’t too much. You were always enough, you were perfectly fine. I know you just wanted to be there for me, to support me and help me through what I was feeling, but I’ve never had anyone do that for me before. Every one I’d been with before just sort of…left me to deal with it on my own.”

Mat sighs, chancing a look at you. You’re sitting there, listening to him intently, giving him your full attention like you always used to do, allowing him the time and space to gather his thoughts and feelings. 

When his gaze becomes too much, you find yourself tearing it away, staring at the floor of your bedroom instead. It stings, Mat realizes, not having you look at him like that, but he accepts it, knows he deserves it. 

“I didn’t know what it felt like to have support like that.” He explains. “I wasn’t used to it, and I was wrong to think even for a second that you wanting to be there for me, or you wanting more from me once things got better, was you just wanting my attention, or you wanting anything other than to remind me that you loved me and that you were there to help me, but that you also had your own needs, and that they weren’t being met.”

He sighs, disappointed in himself. “You poured all of yourself into my cup, and I couldn’t return the favor when it mattered most to you. I’m sorry that I didn’t see that sooner, and it shouldn’t have taken me a month and a half to come to you and apologize. I thought I was doing the right thing, walking away, but I can see now that I wasn’t. And I’m selfish enough to admit that I don’t want to let you go.”

There’s a quiet sniffle from you, and Mat feels his gut twist uncomfortably. “I understand if you don’t want this,” he says. “If you don’t want us. I know I was an asshole, I know I took too long to get my shit together and tell you what a piece of shit I was, and probably still am. I still meant what I said, though. I do want you. I want us. And I know I’ll have to work hard to get you back, and I will put in the work, I swear it to you, if you’ll still have me.”

Another sniffle, but no words. He can see you swipe at your eyes, but no words come out.

His heart cracks in his chest.

“Please, baby.” Mat says softly. He gazes down at you, from where you sit on the edge of your bed, and wishes in his head that you’d just look at him. Even if it was just for a second, even if it would be the last time.

You shake your head softly, still cast to the side, those full lips beginning to pout, your bottom lip starting to tremble, and Mat feels like a knife just plunged into his heart and twisted.

Even when you two went through rough times, even when you broke up, he never made you cry. 

And he wasn’t going to start now.

He takes a step forward, and then another, until he’s as close to you as he can be without touching you. He drops down to his knees then, and noticing there are tears beginning to well in your eyes, he decides he has to touch you.

Carefully, Mat reaches up with both hands, cupping your cheeks, and wiping gently at your tears with his thumbs. “I’m so sorry, baby.” He murmurs.

You let out a shaky breath. “It’s-”

“It’s not fine.” He insists. He applies gentle pressure behind his hands as he turns your head to face him. You blink when you meet his gaze, more tears falling onto Mat’s thumbs, and he wipes them away. When they keep coming, he lowers his hands a little and leans forward, gently kissing the tip of your nose, then the spots under your eyes, kissing your tears away.

“Tell me what I have to do, baby.” He pleads, moving closer, rising up a little on his knees to rest his forehead against yours. “I’ll do anything, I swear. Tell me what to do. Tell me what you need.”

There’s a small shake of your head, and he can feel you beginning to relax into him. “I don’t know.”

Before he can reason with himself if he should do it, if he’s lost the privilege to, he presses a soft kiss to your lips. He’s surprised when instead of shoving him away, or refusing his kiss, you kiss him back.

He can feel your hands move to his arms, gently pulling him forward, and he kisses you again, moving between your legs when you open them to press the two of you together. As the kiss deepens, he wraps one arm around your waist, banding the other across your back so he can gently grip the back of your neck, and your legs wrap around him, pulling him closer, your ankles locking at the base of his spine.

A small gasp escapes Mat when he feels you grind yourself against his shirt-covered abdomen, and the hand on the back of your neck creeps upward, grabbing a fistful of hair at the base of your skull, using it to anchor you both. At the tug of your hair, you moan, and Mat feels his whole body light up with electricity.

He murmurs your name against your lips, presses kisses there, to your chin, your cheek, working his way down to your neck, sucking little bruises into the skin. He releases your hair, trailing his hand down your arms, moves to your collarbone, sucking bruises, leaving little nips and bite marks as he goes, all the while you keep trying to tug at his hair to get him back to your lips.

Mat acquiesces once, brain going blank when your soft tongue grazes over his lips, and he accepts it, cupping the back of your head and sucking on your tongue lightly. Then, he’s pulling back just a little to kiss your lips, sucking your bottom one into his mouth, and then pulling it between his lips as he pulls away. You loosen your grip, but keep your hands in his hair, running the curls through your fingers. 

“I’ll do anything.” Mat repeats the words against your skin, his hands running down your front, settling on your hips. Picking up from where he left off on your collarbone, he presses a sweet kiss to the skin before sinking his teeth in gently, enjoying your little moans of surprise before using his tongue to satiate the little pain from the wound. “Anything to make you forgive me.”

He starts to work his way down, leaving a trail of kisses on your chest, pulling the strap of your tank top off of your shoulder before pulling the neckline down, exposing the top of your breast and immediately sucking the skin into his mouth, hard.

You let out a small whine, arching your back and pressing further against his mouth, your hands tightening their grip in his hair and Mat groans from where he’s latched to your breasts.

He tugs at the hem of your tank top, and you both part for a small, torturous second, for you to all but tear it off, flinging it somewhere to your bedroom floor before his lips are immediately back on your skin, his hands cupping your breasts in both palms, kneading them in his hands before sucking on one nipple, then the other. 

“I’ll do anything to have you again,” Mat begins, your nipple caught between his teeth. “To make you mine again.”

He rises up on his knees, his tongue purposely swiping over your nipple, your chest, your neck, and as he goes, your core throbs as you watch his tongue glide over your skin before he tucks it back into his mouth. 

“I’m so fucking sorry baby,” he says when his mouth releases your skin. “I’m so sorry.”

His eyes lock onto yours and you meet his gaze straight on, watching, waiting, until he tilts his chin just so and you meet his lips, kissing him once, twice, three times before he presses his whole body against yours, hands disappearing from your breasts to cage your body against his once more.

His tongue slips into your mouth, hands roaming over your bare back before sneaking into your hair, grabbing a fistful at the nape of your neck and pulling your head backwards. He chases your mouth, biting your lip as he pulls away slowly, trailing his lips down your chin and then latching onto the particularly sensitive part of your neck, sucking the skin into his mouth hard. 

You moan in response, can feel his tongue massaging over the spot as he continues to suck, and a sharp but delighted hiss leaves you when you feel his teeth scrape gently against the spot. His lips release you a moment later, and he eyes the blooming hickey with pride.

“Never should have let you go,” he murmurs, and then Mat’s arms move, releasing you from his caged embrace so his hands can coast down your sides, settling on your hips as he continues to leave bruising kisses on your neck, fingers dipping into the waistband of your silk sleep shorts. 

“Can I take these off of you?” He murmurs against your collarbone, and you nod, lifting your hips just so, and Mat wastes no time in tearing the material down your legs and off of your body, flinging the things to some spot in your room. 

Mat eyes your exposed pussy and can feel his heart thump against his chest. “God I missed you, missed seeing your pretty cunt every day.”

He moves to place his arms under your thighs, to pin them up next to you so he can devour you, right where you’re glistening and wet for him, but then you’re grabbing at his shirt. He thinks you want it off, so he complies, tearing it off and throwing it to wherever the rest of your clothes are, but then you’re beckoning him to you, reaching for him with your hands, and he smirks a little.

Mat presses a kiss to your pretty glistening heat, looking up at you from under his eyelashes. “I want to taste you baby, it’s been so long.”

You shake your head, a crease forming between your brows as you reach for him. He goes easily, reaching up to smooth that crease away beneath his thumb, and you cup his face, laying back on your bed and pulling him with you.

He climbs onto the bed, moving you both up the mattress until your head is resting on your pillows. He places his hands next to your face, propping himself up so he doesn’t crush you. Your legs wrap around his waist, pressing the two of you together as you kiss him, writhing beneath him like the hottest thing he’s ever seen in his life. 

“It has been too long,” you say in agreement, lips ghosting over his as you speak. He can feel you trying to use the heels of your feet to push the band of his sweatpants down. “I need you now, Mat.” 

“Okay baby, okay,” He acquiesces, repeating the word as he pushes his sweatpants and boxer briefs down just enough to free his cock, feels it throb once it’s pressed between the two of you, resting against the soft skin of your belly. 

An excited noise trills from your mouth as you reach between you both, lining him up with your slick folds and grinding against him. The feeling is overwhelming, blinding Mat as he shuts his eyes and groans, rocking up against you, delirious with the friction. “Condom?” He asks belatedly, trying not to choke on his breath when the head of his cock nearly catches on the entrance to your pussy.

You shake your head emphatically, watching completely dazed as Mat reaches a hand between the two of you. 

“No, it's just been you. Only you.” His head swims at your admission, and he dips a finger inside of you, then two, collecting the wetness before bringing his coated fingers to his mouth and sucking them clean. He groans, cock pulsing again as he grinds against you. 

You reach for his face, chasing his mouth for a filthy open mouthed kiss that he’s happy to give to you. 

“Had to taste you,” he explains. “Couldn’t wait another second.”

“Need you now, Mat.” You breathe against his lips, and he nods, pulling his hips back ever so slightly until the head of his cock rests against your entrance, and then he’s pushing forward, sliding inside of you slowly. Your breath catches in your throat, and Mat can’t look away, can’t stop watching the way your eyes glaze over before they roll back into your head. 

“That’s it baby, take my cock.” He praises, eyes casting down to where he’s pushing inside of you.

You take every inch of him perfectly, as you always have, and once he’s fully inside, Mat gets in close. He’s on his knees, positioning his thighs under your own to both keep you propped up and open to him, and to keep himself close to you.

Your eyes are squeezed shut, your body consumed by the white out pleasure of Mat’s thick cock sliding into you. Your fingers are tangled in the sheets beneath you, back broken on an arch, mouth open in a silent cry. It’s been so long since you’ve taken him, and your body’s reacting like it’s the first time you’ve been with him all over again.

You’re so focused on his cock, on how full you feel, that you can barely register that he’s speaking to you, calling for you. His voice comes back to you as pleasure ripples through your body. 

“-please honey. C’mon baby, breathe,” he encourages, cupping your face in his hands. “Breathe for me baby, you can do it.”

You inhale sharply, chest heaving, gathering air in your lungs as you can feel your body begin to adjust, the blinding pleasure of him being buried inside of you starting to replace the stretch and pressure of his welcomed intrusion.

“That’s it honey, that’s my girl.” He praises, thumbs caressing your cheeks as he slowly pulls his hips back, then pushes in again. His abdomen drags against your clit, and your eyes squeeze shut again, overwhelmed by everything Mat. 

His hips move like that once, twice, three times before your orgasm shoots through you like a rocket. It’s so sudden, so unexpected that Mat nearly loses his pace. He has to bring his hands to the back of your knees and pin your legs down so he can continue to drive into you, flexing his hips and fighting past the tight squeeze of your cunt on his cock, fucking you through your orgasm just the way you love as you cry out.

Your name falls from his lips, completely dazed as he watches you. Your cry evens out into a whine, your grip on him loosening a little, and Mat bends his head to kiss you, laughing softly as when your eyes slowly blink open as he pulls away.

“Good baby?” He asks, and you can only manage a small nod in response.

Your blood feels like syrup in your veins now that he’s made you come once, and Mat loves you like this. Loves when you go soft and pliant under him, loves that you trust him to make sure he takes care of you like this.

“More,” you beg, and Mat nods, bending once for another open mouthed kiss, his tongue dragging over yours before you part.

“Love it when you come for me,” he says against your lips, moving his hips so he can fuck you with slow strokes. “Have to fight my way in every time, just to keep fucking you, just to make sure you keep coming all over me.”

“Mat!” You cry out, his hips driving into that spot inside of you that makes you see stars. 

“You’re gonna deny me this?” He asks, a slight taunt to his voice, but you can hear past it, can hear the plea in his voice, the desperation. “You’re gonna take this away from me baby?” 

You’re shaking your head before he can even finish the question. It’s no use. 

While you were alone after dinner, you’d had way too much time to yourself, to think, to overthink, to mull over every single second from the fight, to the break up, to tonight, to slamming the door in Mat’s face. 

You knew, somewhere in your heart, that you’d already forgiven Mat before he came back. That whatever his excuse, whatever his reasoning, you’d forgiven him for what had happened.

And it wasn’t until he came back asking for a second chance that you realized you’d give him that, too. You’d give him anything he asked for. 

Because you loved him.

He drove you batshit crazy, but you loved him. 

And you hadn’t exorcized him out of your life, not really. No matter how much you tried to pretend like you had.

Maybe it was your greatest flaw, but you were too forgiving of a person.

You couldn’t deny Mat a damn thing if you tried.

And you didn’t want to deny him, not anymore.

“Answer me,” Mat demands through clenched teeth, pressing down on the backs of your thighs as he begins to drive into you, merciless and desperate. “Am I going to have to fuck you like this is the last time?”

He punctuates his question with a particularly hard thrust, pushing a choked sound out of you as your pleasure starts to build and twist. 

“I want to hear you say it,” he orders, pistoning in and out of you. You can only watch him, stunned.

It was no secret he was beautiful, no secret he was stunning. But only you got to see this, this moment where he looked like a god among men.

The sweat at his hairline, the pinched look of concentration, the veins along the muscles in his arms straining as he holds you down, holds you open so he can fuck you the way he knows you like, the way he pleases you best. The way his eyes flame as he watches your every move, tracks your face so he can be sure he’s bringing you nothing but pleasure.

“Tell me,” he insists, bending his head a little to press a kiss to the inside of your knee, and you don’t miss the way it still sounds like a plea. “Tell me you’re mine.”

You nod, brows pinching together as the delicious drag of his cock brings you higher and higher, closer to your next orgasm. Mat can tell, knows exactly what you need, but he won’t give it to you.

Not yet.

“You don’t get to come again unless you say what I want to hear.” Mat says, slowing his pace to emphasize his point.

A whine sounds in your throat, and he laughs a little, resting his forehead against yours. “I know baby, I know. I know exactly what you need, everything you need. In this bedroom, in this bed, and outside of it. I know everything that you need and I promise I’ll give it to you. But I need to hear you say it. Need to hear you tell me what I want to hear.”

You can only manage a whine, too focused on the slow drag of his cock, the way it feels like you can feel every hard vein and ridge of it slowly fucking into you. Mat shakes his head at your broken noises. “I know it feels good, baby, but you can do it. Use your words, pretty girl.”

“I’m yours.” It comes out as a whisper at first, too overwhelmed by the feeling of his cock, the friction of his solid abdominal muscles against your clit as he writhes against you slowly. 

“You’re mine?” He repeats, not even trying to hide the bit of disbelief in his voice, the uncertainty. “Yeah? You’re mine? Look at me baby.” Your eyes lock onto his, and he holds your gaze as his hips grind into you. “Are you mine?” He punctuates his question with a particularly hard thrust. “Am I yours?”

You nod again, crying out “Yes!” when he starts to fuck you again. His pace is unrelenting, his hips unforgiving as he moves, driving his cock in and out of you, consistently hitting that spot deep inside you that makes you see the sun, the stars, the moon, the whole galaxy with each thrust.

“Tell me what I need to do.” He says to you. You blink lazily at him, lost in the way he fucks you, and he crowds his body in closer, dropping your thighs and cupping your face in his hands, using the muscles in his hips to fuck you deep, grinding his cock into you some more. 

“What do I need to do baby?” Mat asks again, voice a little softer. His words are loaded, multiple meanings behind the question, and you know what to say to answer them all. He waits as patiently as he can, his mouth locking yours in a deep kiss as you start to squeeze down on him. He can tell you’re getting closer, can tell you’re right on the edge, but he still needs to hear you say it. 

“Need you to make me come.” You answer finally, lips brushing against his as you speak. He nods, forehead brushing against yours from where it rests. His hand snakes between you both as he circles your clit, applying just the right amount of pressure to the sensitive bud. Your back arches up in response, moving further into his touch.

“Come for me, pretty girl,” Mat pleads, keeping his hips in time with the circle he’s drawing against your clit, swallowing your cries with a kiss. “I wanna feel you come for me again.”

The dam breaks, your mouth opening on another silent cry as you breath gets caught in your throat, white light bursting as your eyes fall shut, cunt squeezing his cock impossibly tight.

Mat’s orgasm hits him like a freight train and he groans out loud, doing his best to keep his eyes open so he can watch every second of you coming all over him. His cock pulses, his come spilling inside of you in thick ropes, and he can barely breathe as your pussy squeezes around him, like you’re trying to pull him deeper inside of you.

When your orgasms subside, Mat goes to pull out of you so he can lay beside you, but your legs lock around his waist, and you pull him down to you, taking him by surprise with a sweet and gentle kiss. That gentle kiss morphs into the both of you making out lazily, you winding your hips, grinding against him while his cock rests inside of you. 

You both remain like that for what feels like hours, but is probably more like fifteen minutes straight, Mat’s cock getting hard all over again, and you can feel your arousal slowly returning, ready for a round two, if needed. Eventually, Mat’s lips trail lazily from your mouth to your cheek, chin, neck, shoulders, collarbone, moving across your chest to reach your other shoulder, other side of your neck, and so on then back again, leaving kisses in each place as he goes.

After a little while longer, your post orgasm high subsides a little and your head starts to clear bit by bit. When you manage to come back to yourself, you realize Mat’s been murmuring his apologies into your skin, over and over, only pausing when he gets back to your lips, then resuming his apologies as his lips follow the little trail he’s made.

On what you think is his eighth loop around, you tangle your hands in the curls near the nape of his neck and tug a little, removing his lips from their place against your shoulder, dragging him to your mouth and kissing him again. 

You roll the two of you so he’s on his back, his now half hard cock still nestled inside of you and your thighs bracketing his torso. Mat’s hands rest on your hips as he looks up at you, his lips a bright pink from all of the kissing. He looks dazed still, like he isn’t sure if this is all real, then his brow furrows, and regret slashes across his features.

He moves his mouth to form another apology, but you rest a single finger against his mouth, shaking your head softly. 

“I know,” you tell him. “I know you’re sorry, baby.” Slowly, you start to wind your waist, watching Mat’s eyes roll into the back of his head, his fingers digging into the flesh of your hips and trying his damndest not to thrust up into you. There’s a hiss that leaves his mouth when you squeeze, and a harsh breath is punched out of his lungs.

“I’m sensitive pretty girl,” he says, definitely not half hard anymore. Mat can’t tear his eyes away from where the two of you are joined together, where he can see his own come starting to drip down his cock, watching as you fuck it back into yourself as your drop your hips down.

“Just need one more.” You promise, can already feel your body chasing after the next orgasm as you move.

Mat nods, pupils blown wide as he watches. “Take what you need baby.”

And you do, planting your hands on his chest as you begin to bounce. Your nails dig into his skin a little, dragging them down his pecs and to his lower abdomen, watching in delight as red marks bloom in their wake, Mat groaning out loud, low and deep, his hips bucking up into you. 

He always did love it when you scratched him up like this.

“More,” he pleads, and you slowly glide your palms back up to his collarbone, digging your nails in once more and dragging them back down in the same path. His body jerks a little when he moans, and then he’s grabbing your hips and sitting up, laying you down and getting onto his knees to fuck you all over again. 

Your hands move to his ass, pulling him in deeper, your nails sinking into the hard muscled flesh and dragging up to his waist, and Mat’s thrusts become harder, sharper, and your orgasm rips through you like a lightning strike.

He follows close behind, fucking past the tight grip of your pussy and coming with a hoarse shout, pinning his hips against you as his cock throbs.

You move your hands then, cupping his face and pulling him down to you, allowing him to bury his face into your neck as he tries to recover. You both breathe deeply for a while, heated skin cooling as the time passes. Eventually, Mat presses soft kisses to your neck, then shoulder, before propping himself up above you by his hands. 

“We should probably shower, shouldn’t we?” He suggests, and you nod. He carefully pulls out of you, but when you move to sit up, he gently pushes you back down, eyes glued to your pussy, where his two loads start to slowly leak out. Mat takes two fingers, gathering what’s coming out and pushes it back into you. Your back arches in response, a small hiss pushing through your clenched teeth. 

He removes his fingers, bringing them to his mouth and sucking them clean before leaning over you again, capturing your mouth with his, sharing your combined release. 

“Want some more?” He murmurs against your lips, and you nod, your eyes locked on one another as he reaches down, his fingers pushing back in, stroking you a couple of times before pulling them out. This time, when he brings his fingers back up, you grab his wrist before he can put them in his mouth, bringing them to your lips instead, sucking them clean. Mat’s eyes flutter, glazing over and you can feel his cock start to come back to life where it rests against your thigh.

Once his fingers drop from your mouth, he surges forward, kissing you again and you both fall back onto the bed, all thoughts of doing anything but making out leaving your minds for the next ten minutes.

Eventually, you manage to pull away, resting a hand on his chest as you part. “It’s getting late,” quickly adding, “we should probably shower now, so we can head to bed.” when you see Mat panic a little, thinking you were going to try to kick him out. 

He smiles a little, nodding. He gets up first, reaching out a hand for you to take. Once you’re both upright, Mat looks down at you and smiles a little, brushing some hair away from your face then pressing a kiss to your forehead. “You go first, I’ll gather up the clothes and get the bed ready.”

You nod with a small smile, heading into your bathroom to pee and start the shower as Mat busies himself with gathering up your clothes, tossing them into the hamper in the corner of your room. He feels his heart thump in his chest at the familiarity of taking your decorative pillows off of your bed, putting them on their designated shelf in your closet, then fluffing the pillows you actually use before bringing your comforter down.

When he finally makes his way into your bathroom, he finds you standing under the spray of the shower, watching through the glass as the water cascades down your body.

A body he almost let go, a body he knows he’s honored to be able to worship again.

He wastes no further time in stepping into the shower with you, wrapping his arms around you to pull you in close, resting his cheek on the top of your head. 

“I’ll do better, I’ll be better.” He swears to you.

Your hands rub up and down his back in a soothing pattern. “I know, Mat.” Your name falls off his lips in a soft murmur, and you pull away a little, tipping your head back just so to look up at him. “We’ll be okay,” you promise, nodding to reassure him.

He nods back, cupping the back of your head in his hand, resting it against his chest. “I know we will, baby. I’ll make sure of it.”

~

A week later, you wake up to soft and gentle fingers dancing up your bare back, winding into your hair and twirling a strand around it before working its way back down, gently stroking into the dip of your back. 

The sheets are tangled around you, the curtains in your bedroom drawn to let the mid morning sunlight pour in, and Mat is sitting on your side of the bed, his hand moving to gently caress your face when he sees he’s managed to cajole you into opening your eyes. 

“Good morning beautiful,” his voice is soft in the quiet of your room.

You smile in turn, rasping out your own “good morning” before turning onto your side to face him fully. “What got you up so early?

He shrugs, pulling your sheets down to your waist, running his hands over your skin. “Made you breakfast.”

“Breakfast?” You ask, playfully skeptic.

“I think I can manage a few eggs, bacon, and premade waffle mix pretty well, but that’s just my opinion.” He says with a small smirk, and your heart nearly leaps out of your chest.

The daylight surrounds him from behind, creating a beautiful glow around him and that’s a sign if you’ve ever seen one. You’ve always liked Mat best like this - soft and boyish in his features, but relaxed, a kind of comfort you’ve always felt from material things but never from a person.

It makes your heart skip a beat, and distantly you think, maybe this is what you’ll remember in the future - this moment, Mat surrounded by sunlight, soft skin, bed head, and waking you up for breakfast. 

Maybe you’ll remember this exact moment and know, that’s when you realized you’d always be in love with him, and neither of you ever stood a chance at anything different.

[pygmi-cygni]

Lucky Number Seven

what's that you say? I already have a series that I've been ignoring for one (1) month?

poppycock, I tell you.

a/n: I missed poe, so I figured I'd throw another bone. I'm aiming for three parts but it miiiight extend to four. if I exceed five something is def wrong.

cw: nothing right now, mostly just the intro chapter. later the series will contain themes of violence, torture and angst (with a happy ending!), but all fandom appropriate.

onward! pt. 2

It was always a possibility. As thin as a hair and stacks of odds against it, but still a possibility.

The intelligence division didn't wander out into the fight. That was the joke - they were the only ones 'intelligent' enough to leave well enough alone. But sometimes, they needed brains and capable hands. And you had two for two, so your sign-off was a go.

Not the dream position to be in, but you didn't have a choice.

That terrifying reality rattled in your brain with every rock and root the transport speeder went over. You clutched a blaster to your chest, staring blankly at the empty bench in front of you. The two officers on either side of you were mumbling prayers.

Seven in total. Lucky in every instance outside of this. The top intelligence officers the Resistance had to offer. For the first time in decades, reporting to the tiny group of actual soldiers and pilots hiding a few kilometers outside a very active Imp base.

You took a deep breath, rubbing the tattoo on your thumb. It wasn't much of a tattoo - just a pair of dots. It was meant to be three, but you could only take the pain of two.

Looking out the window, you swallowed nervously.

"D'you think we'll get medals?"

Turning, you saw the newest member of your team. Tonks, you called them. Short, scrawny, with moony grey eyes. Good with numbers and not much else.

"What?" Your brow furrowed.

They shifted closer, face curious. "Y'know, medals. For being brave and stuff."

You rubbed your neck. "Uh...not sure, kiddo. I don't think medals are gonna be the focus of this mission." The statement came out a bit crueler than you intended, and you winced.

Tonks swallowed, shrinking back into the corner. Oops.

The sweltering swamp air made you gag. It felt like being inside a sprinter's sock; damp, hot, and smelling of rot. Sticky pools were collecting under your arms and the heavy straps of your protective gear.

"Holy Maker," one of the officers groaned, shifting the massive bulk of a transcriber over his shoulder. You did not envy him.

The sun was high and beating down on your neck. Underbrush creaked and slopped under your boots as you trudged through the thick sludge. Tension was high, and the hairs on the back of your neck were straight up. Tonks stumbled behind you, mumbling all the while.

"Are...are you reciting code?" You swiveled to raise an eyebrow, nearly tripping into a pile of mud.

They sniffled, wiping sweat from their upper lip. "Regulation protocol. Rules calm me down."

Ah. My mistake.

Snorting, you hurried to catch up with the rest. Falling behind would do nobody any good; the suns were setting fast and the squelching mud was becoming a freezing, slick sludge. You'd skimmed the records of life on this planet, and you were not inclined to meet any of them.

Nal Hutta, named "Glorious Jewel" for reasons that escaped you, was a polluted swamp planet home to the slovenly species of Hutts. The Imps, likely enamored with its sewage and decrepit appearance, had decided to operate a communications base and a trading port. Allegedly they were allied with the smuggling captains and frequently used the back alleys to discuss trade operations.

This made it a seemingly easy target for the Rebel fighters, but you had quickly realized the Hutts were more equipped than you thought.

Hence the arrival of translators, cartographers, code breakers, and one (1) weapons specialist arriving in a cramped armored vehicle five hours away.

Logic.

Another wave of nausea threatened to overflow as the pockmarked ground belched a glob of slime. Your eyes were watering from the stench, and the sound of retching could be heard in front and behind you. For being a small planet, it was densely humid, and the temperatures fluctuated wildly. Your tongue was dry as Tattooine, but the mold beginning to grow around your water jug was not appetizing.

"The bacterial growth rate is astounding," one of the biologists murmured into a receiver, handing back swabs of growths to the research assistant. You made a face, dodging the slimy sticks of nastiness.

The craggy hill your group was mounting came to an abrupt peak, evidence of a fire burning ash down the side. You took the opportunity to shuck your pack, stretching out your tired muscles.

Tonks was vomiting off to the side, shaky hands bracing their scrawny knees. Sighing, you removed their glasses and wiped them on your pants, grimacing. They nodded a thanks, swallowing back bile.

The rest of the journey was equally as uncomfortable. You'd soaked through your clothes with sweat, salt and mud caked around your boots and pants. The soiled clothing chafed against your thighs, and you couldn't bear a step longer. One of the younger officers had lost his boot in a sticky puddle, and was now hobbling around with a crutch.

"Hey...hey, hey hey!"

Tonks' voice carried from a ditch, excited and bright. You stumbled behind the crowd, trying to see what Tonks had found.

A chimney with smoke trailing into the dark sky. Squinting, you peered around the ground and cried out triumphantly.

Canvas tents, well hidden by debris, tucked alongside the mountain ridge. It looked to be a few minutes walk.

"Oh fuck yeah," you breathed, starting off at a fast pace down the craggy side. The officers followed, groaning in relief. The ruckus of twenty officers rushing at the small camp alerted a few guards, who approached with blasters raised.

One of them, a stocky blonde, clearly recognized one of your crew, and broke into a grin. You watched, dazed, as they clapped each other on the back, other soldiers coming over to greet the group. Knowing you were safe, exhaustion had begun to set in hard. A bone-deep ache shuddered through your body, your boots tripping over each other. An unfamiliar pair of hands steadied you, and a woman said unintelligible words to you, eyes worried.

You mumbled something incoherently and sunk to the ground, eyes rolling back.

When you woke, it was still dark, but your clothes were clean and your hair was damp. You sat up and immediately regretted it. Stars swam in your vision, blurring the small light source next to you until it looked like Van Gogh.

"What the fff..." you smacked your lips, tongue like sandpaper. A rustling to your left made you jump.

Tonks peeked their head in, grey eyes bright. They gave a toothy grin and handed you a glass of liquid.

"Oh, hi! Don't worry, Marfa washed you off. Drink this, it's good." Their gaze was shiny and a little unfocused, and you took the drink with a bit of apprehension.

"Are we bunking together?" you croaked, wiping the foamy blue drink from your chin. It was good, mild and sweet, but definitely alcoholic. Subtly you set it aside, reaching for water instead.

Tonks nodded, hands fluttering excitedly. They launched into a recap of the last few hours, babbling about the base and the soldiers and a thousand other things you did not have the energy to keep up with.

When their energy and stream of words seemed to die down a bit, you mumbled about taking a piss and stumbled out of the tent, rolling the tension out of your shoulders. Your feet were steadier and a cold drink of water sounded great.

Despite it being the middle of the night, quite a few Rebels were still out, huddled around fires and under rooves. Some laughed and joked, dancing poorly to music, while others talked with hushed tones and pursed lips. You watched it all, amazed. It was far from the few bases you'd been on before - all grey, stoic, cold.

Smiling, you watched an animated game of cards between two pilots. One of their helmets was holding bets, stacked almost to the brim with credits and meal tickets.

Your smile wavered as you tilted your head to catch the insignia. Black.

Black Squadron was here?

The heat of the nearby fire sapped from your bones. Stumbling backwards, you ducked back into your tent and hissed, "Tonks! Who've we met at base?"

They blinked. "Wh-"

"The squadron. Who are we going to work with?"

"Black Squadron. Dameron's. Did you not read the debrief?" Snorting, they returned to their game of solitaire.

Your mouth felt like Tatooine's deserts as you shakily sat down. Tonks didn't notice your existential crisis, continuing to puzzle through another bad hand.

Poe had grown up with you, on Yavin. You weren't friends, not really. Just flowers that grew in the same garden and occasionally fluttered past each other on windy days. He was always too reckless, too fast. You preferred the late bloom to the hot summer flashes, unfurling your leaves in gentle spring. A strange dance had emerged as you orbited each other's circles, never going any farther than a hey or a good morning.

Well, you'd tried. Once.

And....failed.

But that debacle was successfully locked up in the box of 'do not fucking open this ever under any circumstances' and that was where it would stay.

Your thumbs ran worry lines over the rough lip of your canteen. That grudge had calcified among your bones, growing into your ribs alongside your heart. It might be wise to let it go, but the scar tissue had healed and it would hurt more to rip it out. It didn't bother you any more - the Resistance was so big you hardly saw him. You saw more than enough, all the posters and photoshoots polluting your media feed.

Until now.

You swallowed back another gritty mouthful of blue something and tossed your cup onto the sheets.

Well, it seemed you couldn't avoid him any longer. Three years you tried. A valiant effort.

Bring it on, flyboy.

You woke early the next morning. Morning dew clung to the tents, slicking up the encrusted slime into rivers of sludge. Nothing, not even sunrise, could make this planet appealing. It was frigid out. You wrapped elastic around the hems of your close to keep the heat contained. The end result was a striking resemblance to a Hutt. Futile anyway, for it would be boiling temperatures within the hour.

Standard protocol mandated an officer meeting by 0800 this morning. It was 0530, so you had time to kill. Usually you’d go for a run, but this terrain didn’t welcome any wandering off. You decided to take advantage of the quiet and explore the camp you missed yesterday.

It was smaller than you expected, but spread out. It looked like there were two cohorts of pilots that arrived; Red Squadron, whose camp was well-established, and Black Squadron, whose setup looked fairly new. Dameron must have landed within the last few weeks. It puzzled you why Red would even need any assistance – they had the highest ratio of trained fighters to licensed pilots. They were nicknamed ‘red’ for a reason. Their commander, Shayla Din, was the best staff fighter you’d ever met.

You shoved your hands deep in your pockets and crept along, tallying the tents as you passed. Forty. Two people per tent…eighty-ish. That was a small crew, but you could make it work.

A small hill approached. You muscled your way to the top, nearly stepping in a rat carcass. The ‘fog’ you’d assumed earlier appeared to be the gas from a nearby geyser, kept low in the atmosphere by the temperature. Well, that’s disgusting. No amount of soap and water could cleanse your body after that discovery.

Turning, you began your loop again.

And paused.

One of the tents was illuminated, and a very familiar head of curls sat outside buckling his boots.

A bucket of cold water crashed over your nervous system, sending your heartrate into the stratosphere. You wished, for the first time, to be absorbed into the grimy mess of the ground, sucked away into blissful death.

Anything was better than seeing his face.

You stood, frozen, watching as he dusted off his soles, stretched, and turned. And saw you. And saw you. And for a brief second, for the first time in three years, you felt like an anxious little greenhorn, shaking in the presence of a Commander. Poe’s gaze, even from here, was harder than Beskar. Clean and sharp like a blade, cleaving the strength from your bones and leaving you in a heap of quivering insecurity.

“What in Maker’s name are you doing here,” he hissed, closing the space in three long strides.

Your mouth was glued shut. Ignore him. Just keep walking, don’t even look him in the eye.

His deep brown eyes met yours with seething confusion. Swallowing, you tilted your chin, deciding to stare at his ear instead.

“I’m one of the seven that came to help, Commander.” Your voice was smoother than you expected. His rank had the desired effect, his jaw twitching with irritation. Poe stood, a little too close, before grabbing your elbow and yanking you behind him.

“What the-“

“Follow me, and don’t talk to anybody,” he gritted out, “I’m calling headquarters.”

“What? Why?”

He stopped in front of the largest canvas tent, whirling to face you. “I’m sending you back.”

Any anger simmering under the surface boiled over in a massive collision between your fist and his cheek. The satisfying thud made your heart glow for a moment, until realizing you’d just punched a Commander’s lights out.

well, let's see where this goes I guess.

tags! comment to join (please specify if you want my main taglist or just this story xo)

@krakenkitty @ominoose @bulletgoth @my-secret-shame-but-fanfiction @justsomeonecalledemma

@iolaussharpe-24 @rosegnome @twwcs @heeheehoohoofictimr @steven-grants-world

@ael-xander @to-be-a-sunshine @weasleyswizarding-wheezes @silvernight-m @lonelyisamyw-0love

 @unear7hly

[pinkexpertnerdghost]

A Rose for You!

Lyney x Gn!Reader

Pt.2 to Watch and Be Amazed!

{ Ok! Ya'll asked for it. I kinda wanted to write more in the first part but it was already kinda lengthy. As in the last part there wasn't much one on one Lyney and Reader moments. But don't fret dear [Name]! You'll be in the lovely company of this little magical menace for a tour around the Nation! }

! Some Spoilers for the Fontaine Archon Quest Act 1 and some nudges to Lyney and Lynettes Backstory/Personal Stories !

General: sfw, fluff, Grin Malkin Cat, small Freminet and Lynette cameo, Lyney being the charming little flirt he is, flustered Lyney, french, a wee bit of angst here and there towards the end,

It was a new day, and you felt refreshed. Truly, Fontaine is one of the most snazziest places you’ve ever been in. Alongside the technological advancements, there was much attention to the intricacies of decorum and an artistic romanticism in the most mundane activities. Although, the air was a bit smellier than the countryside and the stars couldn’t sparkle as brightly.

You had woken up from your slumber, the sun beaming through the thin curtains by the window. Next to your bedside was a small nightstand with a beautiful lamp and the prop card laying face down. 

You rolled a bit around in your bed until you laid on your back facing the ceiling.

Your mind wandered to the events that unfolded last evening. The colorful memory replayed in your mind like moving photographs. 

The doves, cats in hats, paper butterflies and a pair of soft lilac eyes. 

You sighed.

From the walk to your hotel yesterday, you had viciously tried to recount the events that happened. At what point did Lyney slip this note in your sleeve? And why didn’t you notice sooner?

You had trouble sleeping that night. 

Lyney couldn’t have been serious could he? It was just a part of the show, of course he would shower you with pretty words and a suave demeanor . It's part of his charming routine, nothing more. 

Then again…

Why did he whisper at you so much? Now you thought about it, you were up there for at least one two..TECHNICALLY FOUR ACTS?! Also, he stopped you after the show to talk. AND NOW HE HANDED YOU A CARD ASKING YOU OUT?! No WaIT- Not ‘Out Out’ like a date or anything, an outing as friends? Can you even call him that?! What acquaintance just requests a day to hang out together? HE ISN'T BREAKING SOME PERFORMER AUDIENCE ETIQUETTE REGULATIONS IS HE?!-

Overthinking can lead to a very unsettled mindset preventing you from getting proper rest. 

So here you were, laying like a beached seal on your bed. You didn’t bother to get up right away. Too lazy and your head was fizzed out of thoughts.

You shifted your head around, the bedding beneath you shuffled along. On the nightstand was the prop card you had found in your sleeve last night. 

You eyed the shiny piece of paper. The little red grinning cat silhouette on the backside felt like it was taunting you. Calling you pathetic as it stared at you from atop his side table throne.

Stretching your arms above your head, you finally sat up. 

You reached and picked up the card, holding it with your index and thumb. Once again you carefully read the words that were written on the front in cursive. 

 “ I hope you had a magical evening, [Name]. Meet me by the bench near the potted flowers by the station at noon tomorrow. If you show up, best prepare for I still have tricks up my sleeve that will leave you dazzled! ”

You stared at it and noticed it was written on what was a blank playing card. 

Staring at how the curved letters formulated each word you wondered. 

Meet him at the benches by the Aquabus station by noon. Did you really trust this man? Even though he is technically a celebrity, you just met him not even a day ago. 

You swung your feet off the bed, card still in hand. Stepping down onto the small bedside rug, you idled around near the window. It looked to be early morning, you’d guess around eight o’ clock. 

“ I don’t have much plans today. Other than wandering the streets and walking into what I think will be interesting.” You said, your voice a bit groggy. 

You twirled the card in your hand.

You thought carefully of what you’d do next.

“ I think he might it want back.”

Yeah, that’s it.

“I’m sorry, sir?” You yelped. You had to crane your neck a bit to be able to make eye contact? You didn’t think it had eyes, but nevertheless you made the best effort to stare into its face.

Or what looked to be a face.

 You had seen some of them walking about freely in the main city. When you were making your way towards a staircase you bumped into one. 

The robotic garde halted and nodded.

‘ Ah, so they can communicate.’

It went back to walking down the street, undeterred. Turning around after that odd exchange you went back to the matter afoot.

You were lost. Lyney never specified which station he’d be waiting in. You were almost half convinced he was going to be at the Marcotte Line; the one closest to the Opera Epiclese. Although, the more you thought about it the less likely he would be there. 

He did mention that he might be available to take you to see around Fontaine. So he must have meant the main station hub located in the main city.

Even if he wasn’t there, you’d have that station checked off the list of possibilities.

You hurried up the stairs, the small journey reminding you of the Nation of Freedom surprisingly. Although both were vastly different, they did share a similar style of building upward rather than outward. 

Reaching the top, you made your way to the station. You kept your eyes open as you scoped out your surroundings hoping to find a tall tophat. 

It shouldn’t be hard right? Someone as extravagant as him would surely stand out.

You stood corrected. It looks like many people here in Fontaine take up the fashion trend that was tall extravagant head wear. You had gone over almost every suspect bench near flora, most of them were occupied by either locals, adventurers or both. 

He didn’t seem to be near the reception or the inner waiting area. 

“ It's almost noon” you turn to look out a window, the sun is high in the sky now. 

“ If I were a famous magician with an outgoing personality, where would I be?” You muttered as you had your eyes peeled, wondering in the same space.

Your eyes followed the cheers of children. Near a bench a group of kids surrounded someone. 

“ Wow!”

“Where did it go?”

“Could you do it again mister?”

“ Alright! Since you asked nicely. Watch carefully now!~” You heard a jovial smooth voice. 

Looking above the kid group you spot him, seated comfortably playing with his card deck. 

‘ Of course! You’d be where a willing audience was present!’ 

You waltzed over subtly. He was entertaining a group of little kids with some card tricks, you’d let him finish his mini performance before you made yourself known.

“ Is this your card little Mademoiselle?”  Lyney knelt down and held up a four of hearts card. The little girl with blonde hair jumped up excitedly.

“ Yeah! That’s my card!” 

Lyney laughed, a warm expression graced his features. His eyes met yours for a split second. Not knowing what to do, you sent a little wave. Well at least he knows you're here. 

His gaze flitted back to the group of kids. He got back up with the card in hand. “ Before I go, I’ll leave you all with a grand finale!”

The children gasped in unison and quieted down instantly. 

He brought the card close to his face. He flicked it two times before crumpling it into his hand. 

He shook his hand and reeled it as if he was going to throw a shot ball. He brought his hand up in a presenting way and when his palm opened there was a pop sound. It rained rainbow confetti and small cut out paper stars.

The children ooo’d and awe’d, and two were reaching their little arms up to catch the popper’s confetti. 

“ Ta-da! This has been a special performance, brought to you by Magician Extraordinaire Lyney!” The magician lifted his cape from behind him and took a bow. The children clapped and cheered. 

Two adults came walking up to the mini crowd. 

“ Thank you for entertaining them, Mister Lyney. Getting our little Anais to sit still is a magic trick on its own.” An older woman laughed, as she picked up a small girl who wore a Boater styled hat. 

“ Alright Hugo, let's go. Our boat will leave in a few minutes. Say thank you to Monsieur Lyney.” A man with a distinguished mustache taped a young boy in overalls. The little boy with his hands behind his back, thanked the magician before he went off with his father. 

Lyney waved the kids off as he walked off towards you. 

“ Hey there you. I hope managed to get a full night's rest.” He said, there was this sort of bounce in his voice. You may have only known him for a little while now, but you couldn’t help but pick up some recurring little quirks about him.

He wasn’t much different casually like he was on stage. This guy really does live and breathe in the spotlight huh?

“ Sort of. I had a bit of trouble sleeping.” 

‘No way you were going to tell him you were thinking about him. That would make the rest of the day awkward.’

“ I did end up getting some shut eye though, eventually.” You mustered up a reassuring smile. 

“ Trouble sleeping?” Lyney tilted his head as his index finger came up to chin. His eyes slightly narrowed as a mischief inducing grin made its way onto his face. “ You weren’t laying awake thinking about me were you?~” 

You couldn’t help but widen your eyes and sputter out. Is telepathy in his book of magic tricks too?!

“What? No, of course not!” You forced a cough to cover your small blunder. “It’s just, I need to get accustomed to the climate, that's all. It's like that the first few days in a new location.”

Lyney laughed, his smirk melting into a more genuine expression.

“I’m kidding! That might have been a bit much, sorry about that! Hehe.” He said apologetically.  

You crossed your arms as you held a small jaded stare at the cheeky magician. You were doubting if he really meant that. You blew out a held breath.

Reaching into your pocket you fetched the prop card

“ I found this in my sleeve when I left the Opera House. I believe this belongs to you.” You extended his card to him. His eyes suddenly lit up and he swiped the card away from you.

“So this is where it went! Honestly, sometimes my card deck has a mind of its own.” He mused as he twirled the card in his hand. 

His eyes traveled back to you. “Well since it got you here today, why not take a walk around town! I did say if we had free time we were going to show you around. Call it an encore if you will.” 

You looked around you, noticing something amiss after he said that.

“ Is Miss Lynette not going to join today?”

Lyney shrugged as he slid the card back into his deck. “ Lynette had something urgent to take care of, So she can't join us today unfortunately. So it will probably just be little old me and you today.” 

He was idly playing around with the deck before he made it disappear. “ Oh, you don’t need to be so formal! Just Lyney is fine.” 

You hummed.

“Alright. So any places to recommend visiting?”

At this the magician sported a confident smile and walked ahead of you. “ I have a full day planned out, a surprise around every corner. I want your stay in Fontaine to be an unforgettable glimmering memory.” 

He turned on his heel to face you and extended a hand to you.

“ Now if you’d allow me to be your escort, mon cher?” 

You could do nothing but stare. You couldn’t come up with any words to say except stepping forward and taking his hand. 

With a content smile, Lyney gently pulled you along. His gloved hand felt smooth where his fingers grazed your palm yet there was a distinctive tougher texture where the white detailing was sewn on. The people wandering the streets around you felt like the fizzling suds of a wave.

You felt your face becoming a bit warmer. 

He really does have a flair for the theatrical doesn’t he? 

Lyney had taken you everywhere, one exciting place following the next. But before anything, he invented you for a meal. It was noon and the complimentary breakfast from early morning wasn’t going to keep you going for the entire day. So you both stopped by a humble cafe. The food was absolutely delicious! The smell of toasty bread invaded your senses and the savory taste of garlic on your tongue made you smile with each bite . 

You were perfectly content with the garlic bread but you curiously asked Lyney for any recommended dish for the main course.

His answer was; “ If you want my word, then I’d say try this dish right here!” He pointed to a warm soup bowl as he leaned himself over to you.

After lunch, Lyney brought you to see many sights and places. From the tall waterfalls that made up the borders of Fontaine, you could stare at it for hours. He had to subtly pull you away from the viewing point as you kept your eyes glued to the running water. 

You took the Aquabus every so often to get around. You were looking out into the distance. The water seemed to stretch on for infinity, islands broke through the surface making the land seem like one big jigsaw puzzle.

While the ride dragged out, Lyney made quick conversation to pass the time.

“So, what brought you to Fontaine, hm? If my memory serves me right, you mentioned that you don’t get out much.” Lyney sat next to you with his legs crossed. 

“ Yeah. I see travelers but I'm never the one traveling. My job is not something exciting like an adventurer or extravagant like an artist.”

You shift in your seat. You folded your arms onto your lap.

“ I’m just a shopkeep. So, you can already say that I live a perfectly mundane life” You chuckled a bit dryly. 

Lyney was uncharacteristically quiet. He was paying his undivided attention to your words. You continued. 

“With every passing day, I gradually realized that my life had possibly reached a stalemate. Every day felt like a repeat of yesterday. It was the same route, same building, same aisles, and same feelings.” You said. You couldn’t exactly remember when you began to feel like this. It was a thought that had crossed your mind one day. And ever since, it had stayed in the crevices like gunk you couldn’t wipe off.

 “ So, I decided that I’m just going to throw myself out there into the world!” You spoke. You couldn’t really say exactly what your ideas were, but you described what you felt. 

Comfort. Trapped. Empty. Jealous. Fear. Doubt. Excitement. 

“ It may be reckless of me, but If I was never going to do it, I knew I would end up feeling regret for not having done anything about it. And even so, my boss was kind enough to grant me time off.” 

You snickered. “ I’m probably just assuming, but I feel like they might have let me have this because they probably noticed something. Not to brag, but I was their best employee. Swooping in to save the day when my colleagues were out.” 

You stretched your arms a bit, not having realized how still your body was the entire time. Once you were done it felt nice; it was as if your entire being took a fresh breath of relief.

“ So now I’m here. In Fontaine on an Aquabus with you.” You look up to see Lyney again. His eyes were soft and he had this understanding expression on his face. 

Really, any expression he wore felt as if it were through a pair of rosy lenses. Perhaps it was the natural charm artists like him had. Maybe. 

Besides,he could get away with just about anything because of his attractive face.

You shook your head away to look out into the Fontaine waters around and below. 

“ Well, good on you [Name]! I hope your ventures have been nothing but amazing and brought you happiness! ” He finally spoke. He inhaled deeply before he sighed out. His gaze faced the bow of the aquabus.

 “ Do you agree that birds create wonderful music for the ear to hear? Not to mention the splendor of colorful feathers and their ability to fly.” 

“Due to their natural charm, they are sometimes kept as ‘decorations’, provided food and shelter so long as they continue to amuse the people.” He said, his tone shifted ever so slightly. It was barely noticeable, but there was a very micro edge to his word. 

He crossed his arms, the brim of his hat covered the sun creating a little inkling of shadow cast over half his face blocking out the sunlight that might’ve stung his eyes. 

“ But being kept in captivity for too long, it will yearn for the open skies. It’s only a matter of time before the initial luxury turns into a finite cage.” Lyney hummed. His words brought you an unexplainable comfort yet somehow it felt very out of character for him. You subtly shift your gaze to his face. His expression didn’t seem to be exaggerated. His features were calm like a still lake, unmoving. His eyes, although trained forward, seemed to be not fully there. A misty reflection had settled over his lilac irises. 

The intermission lasted for a few beats of seconds. His mouth effortlessly shifts up into a cat-like grin. He turns his head back to you and straightens his posture, his signature tophat tips back slightly. His eyes conveyed excitement as the lilac once again seemed as vivid during his performance.

 He was no longer a still freshwater lake, but instead a lively and winding river. 

“Which is why you’ll get the best tour of Fontaine by yours truly! Mark my words when I said I’d leave you dazzled today, for I Lyney will see to it that you have nothing but laughs and smiles upon your lovely face, mon cher.~” He declared proudly.

You felt dazed. A warm bubbly feeling began to infest your chest. It was very much like when he placed a kiss to the back of your hand.

You smiled happily at his declaration. “Thank you for listening to me. And also..”

You couldn’t help the hot sensation over the apples of your cheeks or your muted heart rate from your ears. Yet you persisted, not breaking away your gaze from him.

“Thank you for being with me today.”

Lyney’s confident facade had faltered ever so slightly for that moment. But he recuperated and mirrored your expression. 

“It’s no problem at all, [Name].”

This was nice. He was nice. Despite knowing him for a little while, it felt as if you’d known him for much longer. 

However, you barely knew anything about him other than he had a twin sister who was coincidentally his assistant and that he was a popular performer in Fontaine. 

It irked you a bit, but you wouldn’t voice this opinion out loud.  It is as people said, once you learn the inner mechanism to a magic trick, the magic itself is lost and you're left to face the raw and sometimes cruel trick. 

You wouldn’t question why he went quiet. You wouldn’t question if he himself felt similar. You wouldn’t question why his demeanor sometimes felt too whimsical to be true. You didn’t want to ruin the mood. And you didn’t want to linger on the thought any longer. 

You both went to many shops, Lyney had insisted you try out anything that caught your fancy. And if you liked it, to get it! Of course you were on a travel budget, but you did end up purchasing two items. 

Your favorite stop however was the Hat Boutique. Lyney had a rather interesting insight on what headwear would ‘shape a face better’. 

“Hm, you could probably store triple the amount of props in this one.” He studied a scarlet red top hat that looked suspiciously similar to the one he owns. He then looked over to another hat sitting on a display. “But that one brings out my petite and charming face more.” 

He turned to face you. “ Help me out here [Name], should I go with this one or that one?”

You looked between the two options, narrowing your eyes and looked closely at the detailings. You looked at Lyney’s face and imagined how he’d look with either on. 

“If you want my opinion, why not go with this one.” You walked over to a particular Hat you saw as you were pursuing. It was a Fedora like hat in a rich dark violet color; it looked more like an inky black purple. It had a gray sash wrapped around it that shined slightly silver when the sun hit. 

“ It looks nice, and the material feels smooth to the touch. The color brings out your eyes too.” You said as you held up the hat for him to look. 

“Oh my, aren't you the charmer?” He smirked playfully.

You avert your eyes to the aisles of material and color, “ It’s just an astute observation is all.” 

He took the hat off your hands and studied it. “ Color me impressed! You have quite the eye for fashion mon cherie.” He sent you a proud smile and his eyes glowed with pride. 

You shook your head. “ I work full time at a small shop remember, so picking up on the interest of buyers is a skill I’ve gained. I wouldn’t say I’m a fashion expert.” You felt the corner of your lips twitch up into a little smile. 

“Are you going to tell me what you mean by that?” 

“What do I mean by what?” He repeated your question blinking owlishly 

You pouted. You got the feeling he was doing it on purpose.

“The nickname? You refer to me by that sometimes. What does it mean?” 

Lyney thought for two seconds before his mouth formed an o shape in realization. He gave you an innocent close eyed smile. “ That’s a secret~! But, I have faith you’ll figure out what it means on your own.” 

You gasped and brought a hand to your heart. “ How do I know you're not calling me a mean name? What a cruel scheme to pull one over me like that!” You whisper yelled in an over the top voice of hurt. 

 His shoulders tensed. Lyney suddenly became the slightest bit flustered. He shook his head, “I-I would never! Honest! I can assure you it doesn’t mean anything like that.” 

 

You let out a quiet snicker. You found it adorable really. He suddenly became embarrassed despite the brimming confidence he usually carries himself in.

After purchasing the hat, he decided to keep his signature cat still on but suggested making a stop by his house to leave the newly purchased hat. 

“ It won’t be long I promise! It’s just that, I wouldn’t want it to get weathered by bringing it around with us today. You did end up choosing it and I wouldn’t want anything bad to happen to it.” He reasoned.

It was a small but cute home. It was built in a typical style that the main city carried; geometric edges, a very advanced looking outdoor light, and a beautiful door with a stained window. 

“Wait here okay! I promise I’ll be in and out before you can tell I left.” He quickly spoke as he jogged over to the front door. You couldn’t help but laugh a little as he sped off. 

So you stood outside. You looked around, and spotted a potted plant. 

CLANK TICK CLANK

The sharp sounds of metal and objects clashing made you sharply look at the direction it came from. You suddenly felt a bit confused.

The door swung open and you were expecting to see the charming magician. Instead it was a boy running out the door. He spotted you and suddenly skidded to a sudden stop.

“...” 

He had a giant metal helmet next to him. He had ash blonde hair that almost covered the left side of his face. His apparel reminded you of a sailor.

He just stared at you and stepped back a bit. His form seemed slightly shrunken and he held his helmet thing closer to him. Not wanting wrong assumptions to be made you sent the boy the most casual smile you could.

“ Oh, don’t mind me! I’m just waiting on a friend, said he had to drop off something. He should be back any minute.”

The boy didn’t say anything, and just nodded. And he stood there. Unmoving.

 Some glances at you and back to the floor.

 He taps around his helmet. 

Well this was awkward. Should you make small talk?

“Er, cool helmet. What is it for, if you don’t mind me asking?” 

The boy nervously glanced at you from the corner of his eye. His eyes were a very vibrant blue color. He didn’t answer for a while. You purse your lips feeling bad. Maybe the silence was better. 

“ving…” You barely heard it. You look over back to the boy.

“Diving..a diving helmet.” He spoke quietly. He didn’t make eye contact as his eyes were glued to the floor. 

“Diving? As in underwater?” You spoke with some bubbling curiosity. Before the boy could react, the door opened again.

“ I am here! Haha, sorry. That may have taken a bit longer than I thought. I hope you didn’t get too bored while I was away.” Lyney announced himself. He no longer had the hat box with him and he scratched the nape of his neck.

He noticed the other blonde boy. 

“Hm? Ah, Freminet! Where are you off to today?” 

Oh, he knows him? You thought, glancing between the two. 

“I was on my way to the beach.” The young man known as Freminet spoke. His voice sounded soft yet slightly raspy, perhaps he wasn’t used to talking much you figured.

Lyney approached you and eagerly motioned for you to join in the conversation.

“ [Name], allow me to introduce you to my little brother, Freminet. Freminet, this is my new friend [Name]. They were the ones to share the spotlight with me and Lynette during last evening’s show.” Lyney proudly chirped.

Freminet looked a lot less tense. “Oh, yeah. I remember. You rambled on about that show, saying how well they-”

Lyney coughed loudly. You look over at the magician with a raised eyebrow. 

There on his pale face was the smallest smidgen of a rosy color. Freminet immediately hushed. But he had a small nervous smile on his face.

“ I’m sorry If I seemed quiet just now.” Fremeniet now said addressing you. “ I recognized you from your appearance, but I didn’t know what to talk about. Or If you would find me odd for knowing about you.” 

You shook your head, understanding the full picture now made you feel a bit more reassured. “ Don’t worry about it, really. But, it’s nice to meet you, Freminet.”

You turned to face Lyney who looked a lot more relaxed. “ So you have two siblings? What a nice family you three are! There probably isn’t a shortage of banter or boredom then.” 

Lyney chuckled. “ Well, I’m usually the one who does most of the talking. I’m the eldest so it's my duty.” 

“Sometimes you take it a bit too far and become a blabber mouth.” A familiar voice suddenly joined the conversation. Looking about you were met with another familiar face.

“Hey Lynette.” You sent the twin a little friendly wave. She turned to you. Smiling a little and returning it, albeit more lazy. 

“Really? You see me as a blabber mouth? But Lynette, I mustn't let the audience’s cheers and support fall on deaf ears. Especially that our friend [Name] here has been on a grand tour with me as their guide.” Lyney ground proudly as he placed both his hands on his hips.

“Whatever you say. But, you’ve been taking them on a tour? How come you didn’t invite me to tag along?” Lynette deadpanned. 

Huh? You tilted your head in confusion and furrowed your brow. Didn’t Lyney mention earlier that his sister was busy. Lyney must have felt the obvious sudden awkward tension placed upon him as his shoulder tensed and he chuckled nervously.

“A-ah, b-but dear sister, you see since you were busy in the early time of today I didn’t wish to trouble you, so I took it upon myself to show them around. Hehe, please don’t be mad at me.” Lyney stuttered out all while looking at Lynette as he brought his hat closer to his chest.

 Lynette sighed and shook her head before she turned to you with a laid back expression. 

“ I hope he hasn’t caused you too much trouble, [Name]. He can go a little too far sometimes but that’s just Lyney being Lyney.” 

“Hey! I’m right here you know.” Lyney whined sadly. Lynette didn’t bother to look at him and Freminet had turned his head to the side. His shoulder’s bounced and looked like he was suppressing a giggle.

“ It’s really okay. More than okay really. Lyney has been nothing but kind and patient with me. He is a good listener and always manages to make me smile and laugh!” You said happily. 

Lynette’s deep violet eyes got slightly bigger with confusion and curiosity. Lyney stood beside you and took a quick glance at your direction. It was quiet for a moment. You suddenly became a bit nervous, was there something wrong you said?

Lyney laughed heartily as he threw an arm over your shoulders. “You see! Take it from them, that I never let my audience down!” You quickly glanced in his direction, not minding the close contact. You could see some red culminating around the tips of his ear and beneath his eyes.

“Well that's good to know.” Lynette crossed her arms. 

“ We must get going, the daylight is short so we mustn't waste it idlying.” Lyney said. Before you two left Lyney sent his siblings goodbye. “Take care Lynette, remember to be on alert alright? And Freminet, remember to get back home before curfew! I was about to dive into the waters last time you had forgotten about time.” 

“ Okay.”

“Of course.”

Lynette and Freminet replied in unison. 

“ Looks like we’re on the move again. I hope to be able to spend time with you Lynette.” You said. You wanted to get to know this family better. Lynette was blunt and to the point but you could tell she cared about the people closest to her. 

Lynette nodded and her lips curled up into a small but sincere smile. You turned to Freminet.

 “ It was nice to meet you, Freminet. If we ever meet again, would you mind explaining diving to me? It sounds interesting.” 

Freminet tensed slightly but managed to nod in agreement. 

“ Bye Bye! Take care!”

After you two had left, Lynette turned to Fremeinet with a pensive look.

“ Freminet, do you think our older brother is perhaps getting attached to them?”

“ I don’t know. But, he really seems to like their company. I don’t think I’ve ever seen him being this flustered in the presence of someone else.”

Lynette hummed. “ I hope he knows what he’s attempting to get himself into. Out of all of us, he knows what kind of situation we’re in.”

Freminet was quiet as he fidgeted with the nails and guards on his helmet. 

“ Do you think that [Name] would like Per?”

Lynette glanced at Freminet with an unreadable expression. She stood still and thought of last evening's performance. 

“Did... Did you go into idle mode?”

“Yes.”

“Huh?”

“ I think [Name] would find Per cute.” 

The rest of the day was spontaneous. From a walk by the sea shore, trying out pastries and free samples, Lyney explaining Fontaine history and technology. 

It was now close to night time and you were both currently walking through the garden close to the Opera House. The road towards the Opera House was beautiful, ever since you first came here a day prior. You had almost ran late to the Magic show seeing as to how pretty it was. The carved marble statues, the beds of wildflowers beyond the decorative iron railing, and not to mention the fountains. Water was almost everywhere you’d look, it was a given as this was the nation of Hydro. 

“Well, today was certainly a fun day.” You spoke softly. You looked up into the sky. It was the final rays of daylight and the sky was a beautiful swatch of evening gradience. All of the orange, blues and reds bled right into each other.

The water beyond mirrored the sky. The land was akin to a watercolor tray, a smokey mixture of cool and warm colors. 

“Thankyou, again for taking time out of your day to guide me through the nation’s cities. You didn’t need to know?” You walked alongside Lyney who was too admiring the sky. 

“Nonsense. I took you on this little journey because I wanted to. It was one of my prop cards that called to you, yes?” He glanced at you out of the corner of his eye.

“Yes but-”

“And you answered. You could have very well ignored it, even kept the card as a souvenir. But you didn’t. And that choice led you to today.” He spoke calmly.

You said nothing. Lyney was a stubborn man, no matter how many times you could protest against his kindness he would fire back with a reasonable explanation. 

“ The card, how did you manage to put it into my sleeve?” 

Lyney grinned like a bobcat. “ Uh uh my dear, a magician never reveals his trade secrets.” He mused teasingly.

“ Of course.” You sighed, giving up. 

“Have you always had a talent in magic? In performing?” 

Lyney finally turned his head to glance at you. Skipping ahead of you, he manages to turn his whole body towards you.

“ If you must know, It is a rags to riches tale!” He exclaimed as he bellowed out his arms dramatically in front of him.

“ As a young lad, me and Lynette were street performers. Everyday little crowds of people would congregate around us on the side of the street. Card tricks, Flower tricks, and even the feathered friends would aid in our little shows.” He exclaimed as he walked backwards.

“We would give it our all and Mora would rain down upon us.” He spoke with a triumphant smile on his face. He slowed down his pace and you managed to catch up. He was now walking next to you like before.

“ You could guess the rest. We eventually became so well renowned, we were able to afford high end venues and quality equipment for our shows. And soon we went from paupers to famed actors.” 

You had listened carefully. Despite his colorful disposition, the underlying tone of his small backstory felt off.

“ I’m sorry you had to go through such tribulation. It must have been tough on the two of you early on.” You frowned. Although he framed the tale as a dramatic novel, the implication that he and lynette had been living in the streets tugged at your heart.

He did say when he was a lad, so this probably must have happened while they were both children. Where were their parents? The rest of their family? You decided to stave off these questions as they could be delicate. 

Lyney had gone quiet for a moment. He smiled warmly at you. “ It’s alright. There is no need to feel sad for us. That is long in the past now. And besides…” He grinned widely. “ I think a smile would suit your lovely face more!” 

He took off his hat and dug around it and pulled out a curious plant. It was a glowing blue color and its shape resembled a pearl. It shined a mixture of a translucent lilac and ocean blue. 

He outstretched it out to you. You went ahead and tapped the leaves that looked like sea shells. The flower suddenly released some bubbles. The translucent orbs floated around you. You couldn’t help but pop a few, some giggles escaping you as you whirled around. 

Lyney chuckled. “ I did promise you that I would keep that smile on your lips followed by the melody of your laughter.” 

“ I-” You brought a hand up to your face. Your heart suddenly began to beat as if you had just ran a distance. 

Why did his words have to feel so..so..like this? Why did it feel as if what he said was true? Would that explain why your heart feels like it would sprout wings and fly away any moment?

You were positive your face was burning up. You coughed into your hand.

“You did, didn't you? Thank you for the reminder.” You had managed to sputter out. You heard the soft chuckling of the magician. The flower was no wear to be seen, he must’ve vanished it away when you weren’t paying attention. 

“I’m glad we’re on the same page, [Name].” He had a lopsided grin. Lyney was a cheeky man, a person with a silver tongue. He was a conman. And yet…

He managed to make you feel like you had a tornado of butterflies in your stomach all the time. 

You were left speechless, as you both continued to walk down a few more minutes. You both made it to the Opera. In front of the opera was a bigger fountain, and a few pairs of people were collected around it. 

You went up to the fountain, interested to see it up close. In the water collected at the bottom, you could make out a few glittering coins of Mora beneath the water. You heard a few steps up behind you and guess Lyney must’ve followed you. 

“ People wish at this fountain, right? What for?” You looked around at the elegant structure. The reflected moonlight in the water gleamed against the little gold accents around its edges. 

“ Fontainians come to this fountain to wish about anything, really. Better fortune, health, and happiness. But mostly, people come to this specific fountain for love or hopes for a healthy baby.” Lyney answered, his hands behind his back. 

‘Hmm, the pairs of people make sense now.’ You thought as you glanced around the area. Satisfied you walk around the front of the Opera house. The fountains shooting water high into the air makes you wanna take a closer look. Leaning into the thin railing your eyes stayed glued to the water. 

You could feel a ghost coolness of the falling mist from the tall fountain. 

Although it was a fun outing today, you had ran around almost everywhere in the nation. Lyney in toe with you, making you ignore the aches you felt for doing so much in such a short time. Now in this still moment, all your tiredness was catching up to you.

Lyney must have noticed, as his lilac eyes flitted between your face and the fountain ahead. 

“ Hey, want to see something cool?” 

You turned your head over to the cheeky magician with a brow raised.

With your attention now on him, he took off his hat. You leaned more on your arm against the railing with a warm smile. Half expecting him to pull out something out of his hat again, he did something else. He shook it in front of him, emptying it out of nothing. Nothing left the hat. 

Lyney hummed aloud. “Hmm, I was sure I had it stored in here.”

You couldn’t help but laugh a little. “Maybe you dropped it somewhere?”

“No no. I was sure It was in here.” He pouted as he now looked in, under and above his tophat. It was rather cute.

He eventually gave up and placed it back on his head. “ You might be right, maybe it slipped out while we were on the aqua-”

Just as he was about to finish, something dangled in front of his face. It moved from side to side, as if it was dusting off his face. Upon a closer look, It looked like a cat tail.

The look on Lyney’s face was endearing, his lilac eyes had dilated in surprise and followed the tail. 

“Ah, there it is!” The hat suddenly lifted up his head, floating just above.

To your surprise, you see a smaller tophat along two little black ears pop out. Two little black bean paws followed, grabbing along the inner rim of Lyney’s hat. 

Pop

“!!!”

You finally saw its face. It was a black cat with mismatched eyes of a droplet and star. It had a permanent toothy grin on its face. It wiggled in the hat and turned itself to look down at you. 

“?!!”

You could make out the red bow behind its back. You weren’t sure what to do so you waved at the cat. It moved its small pudgy body around the hat and twitched its tiny ears.

“!!!”

Lyney let out a giggle at the interaction. “ Aww, I think he likes you.” He managed to grab his floating hat by the rim and brought it down in front of him. The cat in the hat seemed bothered and was now looking up at you. Its tiny hat was slightly tipped back.

“Can I pet it?” You asked almost too excitedly. 

“Since you asked, of course! He is a bit mischievous but a glutton for attention.” He mused, side eyeing down on the cat. 

You gingerly brough your hand down onto the cat. Its surface was surprisingly smooth yet soft, and the cat wiggled towards your touch. It’s two little ears ducked back as it seemed to love the attention it was given. It’s face never changed, however. 

“ Does it have a name?” You asked as you kept petting it. Lyney nodded and smiled.

“ It’s a Grin-Malkin cat! I’m sure you're quite familiar with it, as it’s not only a prop for Lynette and I’s show, but our cute mascot.” He said.

“Prop?” You asked slightly confused. So it wasn’t alive? Then how did it move so life-like? 

“ The Grin-Malkin cat is a puppet, but its movements are based off of a real cat.” He said. 

You smiled, but kept petting the cute kitty. Even if it was just a puppet, the cat seemed to have a familiar personality. Its little paws stuck out, and one came up to ‘attack’ your finger. You quietly giggled at its playfulness.

“ So, cats are a part of your show’s soul huh?” You asked. 

“ If it wasn’t that obvious, yes.” He said with a charming smile.

“ ‘Based on a real cat’, so who was the lucky cat this little bean was based on?” You asked curiously. 

“ When Lynette and I were street performers, we managed to run into a lot of stray cats. Lynette was shy, so most of them got along with her.” He said as he looked down to Grin-Malkin.

“But, there was one troublesome cat. He kept on running off with my hat. Apparently, it made for a better cat bed than anything. He would be curled up inside when I found it.” 

“ Eventually, I thought of replacing my old friend with a new hat. A hat that wouldn’t disappear when I didn’t tell it so. But, me and the cat came to a mutual agreement. I would bring him along to the show as a replica puppet!” He said with a proud smile. It slightly faltered however as he continued.

“During one particular performance, there was a little mishap that happened. I had forgotten a card in my deck and the trick required that one card that I misplaced.”

You winced at the second hand embarrassment. “Talk about bad luck. What did you do?” You asked. The kitty that you were petting now turned around to look up at Lyney. It looked interesting in his story. So now, it was you and the cat’s eyes on Lyney.

“Well, as I was coming up with an improvised outcome, out came this little guy.” He motioned down to the cat.

“!!!” It bounced slightly in the hat as the attention now was on it. 

“ He had the card that I had misplaced and was able to save the show. And ultimately, make it better. The crowd and even I wasn’t expecting such an outcome.” He shook his head. 

“Aww, so he became the star of the show.” You laughed. 

“!!!” The cat whirled around to face you again and puffed out its chest in pride. 

Lyney laughed alongside you. “ That’s one way to put it.” 

Once you calmed down you noticed that you didn’t feel as tired anymore. 

“ It looks like today is coming to a close.” Lyney said as he looked around. There were now very few people outside, and the sky had turned darker than earlier. The magician tapped the tiny tophat on the cat.

“Before today the curtains come to a close, let me send you off with a grand finale.” He whispered. 

The Grin-Malkin cat wiggled its tail and his paw came up to the brim of its own hat. The cat tipped its tophat to you before Lyney grabbed his own and placed it back atop it’s hat. 

“With your permission, could you close your eyes for me.” He said as he leaned in close to you, his hands behind his back. 

“Okay?” You smiled nervously.

You shut your eyes and saw darkness. You could still hear the rushing of water and a faint sound of chirping crickets. 

“Okay, no peeking until I tell you too.” You heard the magician. 

You waited for what would happen. You felt someone get closer to you. The ghostly presence of someone close to your face. You refrained from moving, yet your heart began to pick up its pace.

You felt something warm touch your cheek, and something soft tickle your ear. At the same time you felt stiffer material tap against you above your head. 

It came as quickly as it went, as you felt a small breeze and you could no longer feel the close presence. 

“Okay, open your eyes now.” You heard Lyney say. 

You opened and saw the magician in front of you with a warm smile. 

“Do you feel anything different? Perhaps something is missing!” He said in a cheery tone.

Your hand reached up to where you felt something earlier. 

“Huh?” 

There was something behind your ear. Carefully, your fingers outstretched and touched something soft. It was a delicate circlet of petals connected to a smooth stem. Looking up from the corner of your eye, you spotted a blur of prisma like colors. 

A blurb of pink and pastel yellow. 

“ A rose? How?” You quietly questioned.

“Mhm!” Lyney nodded enthusiastically. “ That is a rainbow rose. A beautiful flower that grows wild only within Fontaine.”

“Ah, thank you! It’s really pretty and soft.” You delicately felt a petal. Beneath the bloom, there were smaller outstretched petals that pressed against your temple. 

“ Have you found it yet? The thing I stole from you.” Lyney asked, tilting his head to the side.

You glanced back at him confused. You didn’t feel anything missing from you, as you checked your packets and around your person. 

Lyney’s eyes followed your attempts to look for the missing something, slightly amused. 

“Given up yet?”

You really couldn’t find anything off. 

“ Is this a trick question, because I don’t feel like anything was taken.” You asked.

Lyney raised a closed hand next to his face. He smirked mischievously. 

“How strange, because I have something of yours in the palm of my hand.” He teased me. “I’ll give you one more chance, could you guess what it is?”

You nodded. You guessed it was either a prop card or maybe some mora.

“ I give up, what is it?” 

Lyney opened his palm and there was…

Nothing.

“Ta-da! The thing I stole from you was your attention.” He exclaimed with glee. He walked over to me and extended his hand over to me. 

“Here you go, you can have it back now!”

 …

This little- 

You may have had the tiniest urge to smack his shoulder. Shaking off that urge, you huffed and played along. Once you reached his hand to get your ‘attention’ back, his finger’s gently encased your hand.

He bowed down dramatically and kissed the back of your palm. 

 Very discreetly, he cracked one eye open and glanced up at you. You had frozen in place and with a flustered face you could only stare. 

He had the gall to smirk and send you a wink. 

There was an odd sense of Dejavu, the memory of when you were approached by him after the magic show that evening. 

“And it seems that…I have stolen your heart as well ma chérie.” Lyney whispered. 

He gently let your hand fall back to your side as he stood back up. He had an innocent smile on his face. 

You just stared at him completely dazed.

It was quiet for a very. Long. Second.

Lyney’s pale face slowly became redder and redder although he did not move.

The awkwardness was beginning to thicken and soon Lyney couldn’t take it anymore.

“Ahem…Ahaha hah haa... D-Did you get it? Because I had you focused on me the entire time so I stole your attention right under your nose. And now I just did a chivalrous act to make you feel flustered! I didn’t go too far again did I?” He muttered as he brought a hand to his mouth and averted his eyes. 

His rambling snapped you out of your dazed phase and you suddenly became very aware as to how hot your face was. Lyney being in some sort of distress in front of you made you sputter out.

“Nononono, It’s fine! I was surprised, very surprised actually…er that was a nice trick there, very smart. So don’t worry about it.” You went ahead and leaned forward from the railing to look back at the fountain. Lyney might have gotten the message because he did the same.

After a few minutes of cooling down, you turned your head to look at Lyney and see if he was alright. His lilac eyes spotted you out of the corner, and he ducked under the brim of his hat. 

“I think it’s getting late, I’ll take the Aquabus back to the main city.” You said, there was a small tight feeling in your chest. You were sad as to how fast the day went, how fast you had to say goodbye. 

“Let me walk you back to the station then. It wouldn’t be very gentlemanly to let you walk back on your own this late.” Lyney offered, his voice sincere.

And so you did. The walk back was slightly quieter. Again, he became uncharacteristically quiet.

Was it because of what happened earlier? Did he feel like he did something wrong?

“You know I had fun today, right?” You began. 

“It was very kind of you to take me on a tour around the city. I got to learn about the nation, eat good food, spoil myself with samples and sweets, and saw many hats I didn’t even know existed.” you slightly laughed. You heard him laughing quietly too. 

“ I met your siblings, met your prop cat and I got to meet you in last evening's show.”

You might’ve never gone out today if you hadn’t met Lyney.

You might’ve never got to know his family if you hadn’t met Lyney.

You might’ve never gotten to meet Lyney like this if you weren’t picked to participate in the final act.

The more you thought about it, the more you became grateful that for some miracle of coincidence you were picked from the audience. 

“I’m really happy that I met you. You made my time here in Fontaine feel magical. I’ll keep this day close to my heart, if that’s okay with you.” You smiled happily, the giddy feeling making you feel all sorts of floaty.

Lyney said nothing, only humming in approval.

Once you had gotten to the station, there was already a bus sitting there. The tour guide, or Melusine as you later found out, was sitting and leaning against the bus. Once it heard the sound of footsteps it sat up quickly, it’s tall ears snapping up.

“Ah! Oh, all aboard the bus! No wait, that’s not it..uh- everyone boarding please be careful with your arms, feet and legs inside the boat!” It spoke, half asleep.

You turn to Lyney. “ Are you going to go back to the main city?”

He shook his head.

“ No, I think I’m going to go back to the Opera house. I hate to be the naggy brother, but I just want to make sure Lynette didn’t forget any of the props backstage.” 

“ Oh alright. I guess this is goodbye then.” 

You had the urge to hug him. You weren’t sure how busy the Magician might be tomorrow, but somewhere in the back of your mind you believed you wouldn’t see him again for a while. The thought once again made your chest feel tight. 

“ I believe so.” Lyney said quietly. 

Well, no point in delaying your leave. 

“Wha- HEY!” You heard Lyney yelp, and quickly you turn back to see what happened. His hat was off its what and seemed to zoom over to you. 

The Grin-Malkin cat drove the Top hat like some dune buggy as now right side up was swirled with pyro elemental energy.

The grinning cat raced in the sky towards you, there wasn’t enough time to get out of the way so you braced for impact. But it never came.

The hat had swerved around you, drifting mid air as the cat kept facing you. 

Suddenly the thing nudged itself into your face, the Grin-Malkin cat rubbing its pudgy dark body against you. You could almost hear purrs. 

“ Hello, nice to see you again.” You giggled as its ears tickled your chin. Wrapping an arm around it you used the other to scratch above its head. 

“!!!” 

Lyney got closer and smiled nervously. “ I think he likes you too much. It never usually takes off on it’s own.” 

He bent slightly down to be on the hat’s level and he put both his hands on his hip.

“Hey now! Come on, back up here alright?” he tried to sound like a scolding parent.

“!!!” The cat shook its tail in his face.

“I’m serious. C’mon, back on Lyney’s head” He pointed to his hat-less head of hair. 

“!!!” The cat dug itself deeper into your embrace. 

Lyney frowned. “ I know you like [Name], but they really have to go. It could be dangerous for them to be out in the streets this late. The sooner you let them go, the sooner they’ll go back safely.” He reasoned with a reassuring tone of voice.

The cat retracted itself from your hold and glanced down at Lyney. Having made up its mind the cat’s paws extended to you.

You tapped them both. “ Lyney’s right. I have to go. I’ll miss you too.” You leaned down and pressed a small peck on the robotic cat’s forehead. 

It wiggled and a paw came up to its hat and brought it down in an attempt to hide its face. Although its features couldn’t exactly express, it looked to be shy. 

Lyney had noticed and brought a hand up to his mouth to cover his snickers. 

The cat then ducked into the hat, disappearing from view. You looked inside the hat and it was empty. 

Grabbing it from in front of you, you flipped it right side up.

“Here, let me help.” You raised it above Lyney’s head. Slowly you set it down and secure it in its place. All the while doing it, Lyney had his soft lilac eyes on your face. 

Fixing the hat a bit, you dusted off any dirt that may have gotten on it. “There we go! Now you look as sharp as you usually do.” You grinned.

You didn’t notice but when you smiled, especially at such close proximity, Lyney couldn’t stop the flush of color rising in his face. 

You kept staring at his hat and his face as well to see if anything was out of place. 

Without realizing your hands hover just above his arms. You weren’t sure if this was right. Maybe ... .Everything was going a step too far. Just as you were gonna reel back, Lyney raised his hands to hover right beneath your arms.

Without saying much but a nod, you hugged.

His cape felt soft, and his arms held you with care and protectiveness. You smiled as your face dug into his shoulder. You felt the hard material of the brim bump your temple. 

He smelled like flowers and ash. An odd combination yet somewhat comforting.

For what felt like a full day, you two finally separated. He had a warm and sincere smile on his face. 

Most of his smiles are bright grins that could light up a room. 

But somehow after a while the spark is lost, and the smiles feel all the same. But this one, the one you saw before your eyes. No, this was different.

The kind of smile that was not rehearsed nor under scrutiny of the captive audience’s eye. 

This one felt raw, special, authentic. 

It made him look beautiful. 

Realizing you were staring, you stepped back.

“ I….really think I need to go, or the Melusine will go back to sleep.” You turned on your heel and headed towards the boarding area. Before you left you took a big breath in. the cold air of the night and mist sending a current of energy through you.

As you were about to step on the bus, you heard him walk behind you.

“When will you be leaving?”

“What?”

“When will you be leaving? You said you were here on holiday, so when will you go back?” He asked. 

You stopped and thought. When will I go back? 

Go back.

Do I want to go back?

Can I go back after having a taste of what the world is outside of what I once knew?

“I leave in two days. Two days, yes.” You managed to say out almost in a flat voice.

“Why do you want to know?” You asked, you hadn;t turn your back to face him.

I want to see you again.

“ No reason in particular. I just thought you would be around to watch me and my sister perform in three days at the courts theater.” He said, there was a cheapness to his voice.

“I don’t think I’ll be able to go. I'm sorry.” 

“Yeah, Sounds like it.” Lyney dejectedly said. 

You step onto the bus and Melusine shoots up on it’s tiny feet. 

“ Leaving Marcotte Station!” They yelled. You sat down on one of the benches. You didn;t have the heart to look at Lyney as the bus started to move along the river.

You did however outstretched your hand behind your ear. The rose was still there. 

“ Ah, a rainbow rose? Oh oh! Did you have someone propose to you?” the Mesuline asked. 

“Wh-What?! What do you mean by ‘propose?!’ ” You shrieked. The Melusine set comfy on top it’s little pedestal.

“Oopsie, I’m sorry you probably don’t know the rumored implications of that rose do you?” They asked, tilting their head as their ears flopped to the side.

You shook your head.

“Well, since you're my only passenger for tonight, I suppose it’s okay for me to add on to the guidelines. And I’m tired right now.” It yawned.

“ When someone gifts you a Rainbow Rose, much like the one on you, it usually symbolizes passion and romantic encounters. It’s very common for couples here to gift each other a single rainbow rose or a bouquet of a dozen roses as a way to express their devotion to one another.” The Melusine mused. 

“Oh.”

“ But it’s also used to express platonic love for a dear friend or family. Flower gifting is a language that revolves around love no matter which kind.” It said happily. 

It hummed a little tune, and the boat sailed along.

“ But for it to be placed behind the ear, someone may be interested in you. Romantically I mean, haha.”

Oh dear…you might realize what the nickname he gave you means now.

“Ah- AHCHOO!” You covered your face as you sneezed.

“ Bless you!” the Melusine said.

You sniffled. Maybe it was the cold. 

Lyney had stood there watching the Aquabus get farther and farther away. He had his hat to his chest. 

He quickly placed his hat back on his head and walked back to the garden path.

There was no one around. He was alone.

Had his siblings made it back home yet? Probably.

The steps of his boots bore a fast and rhythmic pattern as he stepped.

His lips were in a flat line. His mind was preoccupied on many things. 

His sister, his brother, the rest of his siblings, “Father” and you.

You. He shook his head. 

He had a blast today. Although he had known Fontaine all his life, he practically lived on the stone walkways for a good part of his life, he never saw it like he did today. It felt new to him, a wondrous view!

Like that of an innocent curious child. Something that he never thought he would experience ever in his life.

He snapped away the thought. 

He made it past the fountain in front of the Opera House. Getting past the gates and the lonely lobby he made it into the audience area.

He had met you here. 

From when he was looking for a willing participant, he spotted you amongst the sea of eager people. 

He spotted you. You weren’t a local, perhaps a tourist. You intrigued him.

Foreigner’s often brought in the best source of intel. A web of secrets and truths hidden beneath the veil of illusions. The normal people and Magicians were similar in that aspect, despite the other living in ignorance. 

He never would have expected you to complete the trick well. Oftentimes, stage fright took a hold of the non troupe assistance, some on the spot improv would be on set in case the trick went off the rails. 

That is why Lyney wouldn’t often pick from the audience. It was a rare occasion. 

He would seek you out. Get you into a sense of comfortability, his silver tongue had a way of making people profess their hearts out to him. 

The world was a stage to him, and thus he must always perform his best. At least, that is what “Father” told him. 

You didn’t have much useful information. He was hoping for something more scandalous or perhaps a secret you were ashamed of. Instead, you were just some person seeking out the world that you never had stepped foot in despite being born into it. 

And yet.

Lyney sat down on one of the cushy seats of the audience area. He crossed on foot atop the other.

Why had he stayed with you today?

Perhaps he was afraid of seeing you upset if he left suddenly to shop for props he needed.

Maybe, he didn’t want to go back on his promise he made to you backstage. 

Maybe, he didn’t want to see your angry face if you found out the initial reason he asked you out. 

Lyney looked around, his eyes wandered to the stage. No one was performing. It was empty. The spotlight wasn’t shining down. It was devoid and completely useless to its intended purpose at the moment. 

Lyney had purposefully left out key information when you had asked about his background in magic.

You didn’t need to know of the desperate times where he pushed through with a smile while the tummies of he and his sister gurgled for food.

You didn’t need to know the cruelty of Nobility and their disgusting greed and wicked selfishness. 

You didn’t need to know about the House and the Fatui.

And you didn’t need to know about “Father”. 

Lyney exhaled. 

All of that would probably make you look down on him with disgust and fear. He much preferred to see a beautiful smile on you.

He didn’t need to see you again. You were useless to “Father”, to the grand scheme of he and his sibling’s mission. You would be a distraction, and distractions lead to silly avoidable mistakes.

Yes, that’s what “Father” would say to him.

And yet.

Lyney scrunched his face. He didn’t like feeling like this. He thought he was over this. After all, he had a home and a supportive family now. He shouldn't feel like this, he had his sister, little brother and the other younger ones to look after. 

And yet he wanted to see you again.

You made him feel like he had freedom. It wasn’t like the one he was granted when he and Lynette were free from being street rats. And strangely enough, it wasn’t like the freedom “Father” granted him when she took him away from the cruel mansion. 

He felt bliss with you. He felt like how the audience looked in the countless times he performed on stage.

Was that how it felt like to live normally? To live in bliss and ignore the world’s harsh reality, even for a few moments.

He used to stutter a lot as a young boy. Whenever his juvenile performances went wrong or a slip of the tongue in pronouncing large words. 

Yet he seemed to awfully flustered around you a lot of the time. 

He even gave you a Rainbow Rose of all things. 

It’s what felt the most appropriate he thought.

“ Oh no..” 

The realization hit him like a Mitachurl’s Axe.

“ Father is definitely going to kill me if she ever finds out about this. Lynette might as well.” He cried. 

“ACHOO!” 

“Ugh, I should’ve gotten out of the port sooner. I might come down with a cold.” He sniffled.

‘Maybe someone’s thinking of me.’ He thought. 

Before you went into your room, you had asked the reception for a vase you could borrow. They immediately noticed the flower on you and gave you a sneaky glance. Ignoring them, you went and filled the vase with water.

Before going to bed you placed the rose in the vase, on your nightstand so when the morning came it would get sun.

The last thing you saw when you fell into slumber was the rose. The memory of that charming magician is still vivid in your mind.

Perhaps, you could delay your trip back home.

After all, 

He did steal your heart and had yet to give it back.  

A/N: CWNCWNCONCON I WAS KICKING MY FEET AND CRYING WHEN I WORTE SOME PARTS CBKEBCIB The Fonatine siblings have a choke hold on me fr. Fontaine water giving that same energy that 3 am cold crispy tap water- I'm now tempted to make a Lynette x F!Reader fluff were they have a nice little tea party and make paper flower arrangements like cottage core girlfriends Tags: @b0rninh3ll @yukiaei @xiaossocksniffer @nayumeas @scarletrosesposts @sol3chu @rionah @jar-03

[nightylantern]

Gallagher x Reader; The Devil in Disguise

Pairings; Reader x Gallagher

Warnings; HUGE SPOILERS FOR THE 2.1 QUEST, also this isn’t canon, in other words the way they implied stuff at the end may be there to throw us off, this is a “what if”, if what was implied is true. Death mention, secrets, suspicions, already established relationship between the two

Creek

You glanced up to see a slightly tired Gallagher enter the room, noticing he looked slightly disheveled, on top of that he was a bit late.

“Gallagher? Are you okay, why are you so messy, didn’t you say you were having a meeting in regards to your job?” You headed over to him to help remove his vest and accessories, suddenly he grabbed your hand a bit frantically but nonetheless gave you a smile,

“I’m fine hon, just a bit of trouble on the way here, some hooligans on the streets were a bit to drunk,” he chuckled, and once again smiled, except it didn’t reach his eyes.

You knew something was up for a few days now, despite the fact that he kept his calm demeanour and relaxed behaviour, you knew something was up, and well it made sense. He explained to you that “Death” was among the dreamers and that a stowaway and the famous singer Robin, had been killed, thus he asked if you could simply stay inside. You knew he was working off the clock to figure out who could be behind it, but even so there was something…off…

You have known him for years now. How he approached you on the streets complementing you and serving you a drink, he wasn’t a bartender then, but he was exceptionally good. You eventually figured out his ties to the bloodhound family, which you didn’t mind but you found it odd how many of his coworkers never recognised him, to which he told you he simply did most of the work in the shadows.

Even with your suspicions you chalked it up to him being exhausted and him trying to prevent “Death” from taking any more people, so you simply kissed his cheek and told him you would prepare dinner, as well as the fact that he should go shower, to which he said he would as he headed for the bathroom.

Once he was in he closed the door and sighed. “Almost got caught,” he thought as he looked down at the inside of his vest and gloves, covered in the goo. He used them to cover up the remains of Sunday but he was also careful you wouldn’t find any of it on him and question him. He sighed again upon thinking of the events that had occurred before.

So what if he killed two prominent members of the family? The family, the supposed family that was open to peace and harmony, the family that had took away so much from many, the family that outed Mikhail as a traitor…Mikhail.

He would be lying to say he was doing all of this solely for Mikhail, but that didn’t mean that wasn’t one of his motives. Guilt eventually came at him for betraying his old companion, and then anger seeped in when figuring out that the family wasn’t all so innocent either. Naturally before he could strike he needed a good alias, and that’s where you came in.

He knew once a killer was a front, people would be less likely to suspect someone who not only was high in terms of security but also someone who had a lover, after all why risk their lover’s security when he planned to kill right? He knew you were the right one when meeting you, he complimented your looks to start small talk, not that he didn’t think you weren’t pretty, you were gorgeous. Then he kept meeting up with you and eventually you agreed to be his lover. At first everything was going according to plan, at least that’s what he thought.

He was using you from the beginning and yet, he grew fond of you, he truly cared about you and knew what he was doing could put you at risk, yet he was to far in deep to turn around and prioritised his plan above all. He wanted to break things off to protect you but at the same time, he couldn’t do it, and he didn’t know why.

He knew he wasn’t a good person, and knew you would be better off if you both were not together, but still. He didn’t know if it was love or simply respect, or anything in between but he truly did want to stay with you.

But it’s fine, all he has to do is to carry out the remaining tasks and finish his plan while also protecting you, and continue being a “minion”, of the enigmata without you knowing. All he has to do was continue to keep up his facade without any suspicion, all he ha-

“Gallagher, honey?” Your voice interrupted his inner monologue, wow he was actually getting into this anti hero role wasn’t he? “Are you okay? Do you need me to come in? You’ve been in there for a while and I didn’t hear any shower, just some mumbling…”

“Don’t worry! I was just zoning out, I’ll be out in a moment love, just give me some time,” he replied almost immediately. After hearing your footsteps leave he cleaned what he could of his clothing and took a nice shower before changing and coming outside to you setting the food on the table. “It’s fine, it will be over soon,” he thought as he headed to the table. Even if it ends with deception, he just needs to be secretive just a tad bit longer and everything will be okay…

“A complete Gallagher,” he recalled Sundays words, yes, he would just have to continue on and be nothing but a Gallagher to his “beloved,” if not for your sake, then for his own.

Once again nothing is canon, just my personal interpretation of him and his lover at the end of the quests, I hope you enjoyed this fic!

[planetpedri]

GAVI! GAVI! GAVI! fluff to angst perhaps where it’s their anniversary but something comes up on his part where he forgets to tell her he can’t make it so she’s left at the restaurant alone.. PERHAPS A TWO PARTER???? Lmk.

Too much to ask — Pablo Gavi.

Pairing: Pablo Gavi x Fem!Reader

Summary: It was your first anniversary. You’d been gushing over it to your friends for the past week, and it was finally here. So why was he not? You waited thirty minutes.. an hour.. an hour and a half and yet he still hadn’t arrived. It’s not until you receive a text asking why you weren’t home that it fully clicks. He’d forgotten.

Word count: 1.12k

Disclaimer/s - Angst, hurt/slightcomfort, arguing, ect.

A/N: PLEASE FEEL FREE TO SEND REQUESTS! pt2’s are annoying so i just ended up making it a hopeful ending!

You’d been waiting approximately ten minutes for your boyfriend to show up. You had both agreed to reserve the perfect spot at the restaurant you went for your first date a whole year ago.

You sat giddily in your chair, thanking the waitress as she brought you wine and water as you’d asked. It was then you noticed he had yet to arrive and it was ten past six. He was late.

Brushing it off as traffic, you sip on your water, trying to swallow the bitter taste of unease. Surely it was just traffic.

Twenty minutes later, and he was still a no show. The waitress had come back twice in that time to see if you were ready to order which you’d had to promptly explain your boyfriend was running late. You’d sent him many texts asking where he was, all that went ignored.

You looked foolish. Being stood up on an anniversary date.

An hour now.

An hour he’d been late. Your mind ran to the worst possible scenario’s, so you nervously pick up your phone and open the Find My app.

Clicking on his location, your eyebrows furrow. He was at practice still? Your body stiffened as your brain wracked itself trying to find an excuse.

Maybe he was just taking a while to get ready! Wrong.

A text appears at the top of your screen, making your whole heart shatter.

Pablo❤️: I’m just leaving practice some of us guys stayed late.. Where are you?

Your eye twitched. Genuinely twitched. Because what the fuck?

Ignoring his text, you stand from your table and motion the waitress over, explaining in short sentences why you needed to pay and leave as quickly as possible. She understood completely, the look of pity on her face only fueled the tears that slipped from you eyes the second you stepped back into your car.

Staying there for a few minutes you try to recollect yourself when you get a phone call. Glancing at the caller ID, your annoyance only grows as you press decline, knowing if you answered now you’d say things you’d later regret.

The drive back to yours and Gavi’s shared apartment was fifteen minutes and the whole time you practiced things you’d say to him without losing your cool. Of course the second you did see him, you’d forget it all.

The elevator moved slowly the second you got into it, as if it knew you needed that extra time to cool off. The put-put pace only pissed you off more as you just wanted to go inside, shower, and sleep.

Unfortunately, none of that was going to happen as you come face to face with your boyfriend the second you open the door.

A look of annoyance flashes across your face when you see the concern in his eyes briefly dissipate when his eyes roam your outfit.

“Shit.” He mumbles, realization hitting him at full force. “Babe—“

“Oh save it.” You scoff, rapidly taking off your heels and throwing them aside as you storm toward your bedroom, ignoring the pleads of your boyfriend behind you.

Your name slipping past his lips in pleas the further you walked away, only stopping when you swivel around on your bare heel. “I don’t want to fucking hear your lame excuses.” Your chest heaves and falls as you collect yourself. “Do you know how stupid I looked? Being stood up like that? Do you?”

Pinching his lips together, Gavi’s eyes dart to his feet. “I’m sorry! I forgot to tell you I couldn’t make it.”

“How do you just.. forget that? Is it too much to ask for you to simply care?” You scoff, venom dripping from your every word the more you spoke.

Taking a few steps in your direction, Gavi looks back up at you with those big doe eyes that you’d fallen in love with, that you continued to fall in love with despite how many times he pushed your buttons.

Before he can speak, you cut him off. “Whatever. I’m going to shower.” You snap, turning back around only to be stopped by a firm hand grasping your wrists.

With all his strength, he pulls you back to him, his hand letting go of you only to wrap around your back. At first you’d tried to squirm out of his grasp, but clearly to no avail as his grip only tightened. So there you stood, fuming silently with your fists clenching at your sides as one of his hands rubbed your back.

“I’m sorry.” He murmurs over and over again. His head dipped near your ear as he speaks. “I’m sorry.”

“Whatever. I’m over it.” You huff, prying his arms from you. Taking the new freedom, you make your break for the bathroom, sending him a short glare as if to silently force him to stay away.

Gavi’s lips form a thin line, his doe eyes narrowing into frustration. “Baby, please don’t do this, let’s talk.”

You were already halfway down the hallway by then, hesitating slightly before you open the bathroom door and lock it behind you.

Later, while cozied up in bed, you finally feel the weight of your boyfriend behind you. There’s a distance between you two, one both uncomfortable but also needed. Your eyes clamp shut tighter in a weak attempt to fall asleep.

You feel his eyes boring holes into your head, which makes it all the harder to fall asleep. Gavi shifts about a dozen times, not used to having to sleep without you near him.

He whispers your name, beckoning you to look at him. “Come on, don’t fall asleep mad.” Gavi begs, his bottom lip tugging between his teeth.

Shifting around to face him, your eyes narrow. “Now why shouldn’t I?”

“I’ll make it up to you, I promise.” He says, eyebrows knitting together in worry. “Anything you want is yours. Anything.”

You really wanted to stay mad. You deserved to stay mad. “Anything?” You repeat.

“Anything.” He nods, a small sense of hope flooding him. “Just name it.”

“Date night, once a week for the next month. I don’t care how busy you are. And! You bring me to the book shop at the mall and you get to buy me any books I want.” Your eyes narrow into slits, “then, we can talk about forgiveness.”

Gavi suppresses a smile, “consider it done.” He waits a moment, “so can I…”

Rolling your eyes, you turn over. “Yeah, I suppose.” Before you could even finish your sentence, he’s pressed against your back, arm draped around you, and pulling you impossibly close. Sleep calling to him far quicker than it did you.

DTS , @halfwayhearted @spidybaby @gadriezmannsgirl !

[fandomnerd9602]

Love Me Tender

Bambi!Wanda x Reader

WARNING ⚠️ ANGST AHEAD ⚠️

She shouldn’t have let you go. You were trying to do your part. It was your time to lead the tactical team on the rescue op. You had Natasha and Yelena as your backup. Wanda, your loving doe mate, had a feeling that you shouldn’t go. But she knew there were other hybrids that needed the spec ops team so she put her fears aside.

How she wished she listened. It was lonely and near silent in your apartment. Wanda could only wait for you to come back thru that apartment door.

That door, that whole apartment. She wanted to build a life here with you. One where she would eventually find her boys and raise them with you. To grow old with you.

And then came the phone call. The caller ID sent chills down her spine - New York Presbyterian Hospital.

“Hello?” She shakily answered.

“Wanda?” Natasha’s own shaky voice spoke up. “There’s been an incident.”

“Any hybrids?”

“Safe and secure. But…” Natasha hesitated. “(Y/N)’s been hurt. They’re taking your detka in for emergency surgery and treatment.”

Wanda’s ears began to ring. The world around her was blurring.

“Wanda? Wanda?”

“I-I’m here.” Wanda tried to be composed.

“I’ll keep you updated but it’s touch and go right now” Natasha tries to comfort her pal but her own sense of dread and sorrow was overwhelming.

She drove to the hospital as fast as she could. Her mind was racing, just hoping and praying that you’d be awake by the time she got there.

Wanda burst into the waiting room to find Natasha and Yelena pacing, their wolf tails hung low.

“Bambi,” Yelena said a little glum.

“Where’s my detka?” She looked around, “what happened?”

Natasha guided her to sit down. “We were on an op involving the Red Room. (Y/N) took three bullets while protecting some hybrids”

Wanda thought she had used up all her tears, but fresh ones were already welling up in her eyes.

“(Y/N) is in surgery right now,” Yelena explains. “Chances are looking good but I-I…I don’t know”

Wanda looked around and saw a couple hybrids being checked for wounds.

“Are these them?” Wanda asked. Natasha simply nodded. Wanda found all of her strength just leave her and she sat down.

Wanda took a deep breath. These hybrids were malnourished, some had wounds and cuts and bruises. In that moment, Wanda -ever growing in her own bravery - knew that she could either shrink or walk forward and be exactly what you had been for her all along.

Wanda got up and began helping to the counsel the new hybrids, letting them just tell her anything and everything. She wasn’t sure if it really helped but Wanda just let them talk. Her mere act of service was already a soothing balm, just the simple act of a friendly ear was healing to people whose voices were practically taken from them.

The doctors came out a couple hours later and informed Wanda that you were in post op recovery. Wanda was relieved. And then they let her know that she could see you.

Wanda practically ran as soon as she knew the room number. She hesitated outside your room. Wanda was terrified, what if what she saw just caused her to break? She already saw what death had done to her parents at a young age. Would you look anything like that?

She opened the door and quietly entered. You laid there, your right arm, rib, and shoulder were bandaged. You had shrapnel burns on the right side of your face.

“Detka” Wanda began crying a little as she knelt by your bedside. “My detka”

Wanda tried to talk to you, even if you couldn’t hear her. “You would’ve been proud. I did my best for the hybrids. I just let them talk. I did what you did for me - you gave me my voice back”

She takes your hand in hers, “all I want is to hear yours again, detka”

Her mind wandered to a favorite song of yours and hers. She laid her head against your arm.

Love me tender

Love me sweet

Never let me go

You have made my life complete

And I love you so

Love me tender

Love me true

All my dreams fulfilled

For my darlin' I love you

And I always will

Love me tender

Love me long

Take me to your heart

For it's there that I belong

And we'll never part

Love me tender

Love me true

All my dreams fulfilled

For my darlin' I love you

And I always will

Love me tender

Love me dear

Tell me you are mine

I'll be yours through all the years

Till the end of time

Love me tender

Love me true

All my dreams fulfilled

For my darlin' I love you

And I always will

And I always will

And I always will

Wanda found herself beginning to weep. She’d wait for you to wake up, however long that would take.

And then she felt a set of fingers, gently running their digits thru her hair, caressing her scalp. Wanda shot up to see you weakly smiling at her.

“Are you sure your hybrid animal isn’t a songbird?” You ask weakly, your voice hoarse from being dry.

“Detka!!!” Wanda cried as she jumped forward and hugged you tight. You winced a little from the pain. Wanda gasped, “I’m so sorry!”

You took her face delicately in your hands, “I don’t care”

And with that, you pulled her into a kiss. She moaned happily against your lips, her deer tail wiggled happily.

It was your turn to be the one in recovery and it would take time but Wanda was by your side every step of the way. Tony covered the medical bills and even paid for a hotel room not far from the hospital for Wanda.

Your mate loved you so much and you loved her back. Your love really was a dream come true.

Tags @lifespectator @julieromanoff @idkwhatever580 @olsenmyolsen @supercorpdanbeau @scarletquake-n7 @pinklawyerwinnerzonk @revanshand @russianredassassin @multi-fandom-enjoyer

[ladybyakuya]

| BRAZIL + TASUKU TSUBAKINO.

+cw. — advisor!Tasuku Tsubakino x fem!singer!reader, musical au,band au, bofurin as band, mention of show pub ougi bar so manga spoilers, first meeting, usage of some canonical elements, rockstar!umemiya hajime, angst,hurt, misunderstanding ( ? ), confession, smut, mature content ahead. title based on song brazil by Declan McKenna

+wc. — 2k

+syn.— Tsubaki likes you while you know that he loves umemiya hajime and that is where jealousy comes into play but when it does it always turns the world upside down.

+notes. — this is a collab piece via wind breaker server ( the bofurin brothel ) hosted by our beloved mel ( @gimme-hiragi ). i used tsubaki instead of tsubakino because that's how he likes to be addressed. he is one of my favs >:)). dividers by cafekitsune | redirect to blog navigation.

+tags. — @stunie @prettyiwa

The stage curtains are drawn out granting a manageable access for the sunlight to pour into the empty stage. The pebble bar lights are not alive. There is no need for those but only during nights. Tsubaki is staring at the stage with a daze in his eyes as you connect the chords, set the microphone, and grab the headphones. For someone who can ignite the dormant rhythm in people’s hearts with the melody of your voice, you are an eerily silent soul. You clean the headphones with your handkerchief before putting it on. The only sound that could be heard was breathing: one was even like a pond while the other was uneven like a mountain range. Despite how quiet you are, Tsubaki can still pick up the rhythm of your body and soul: the footsteps, the breathing, Tsubaki watches as you take the stance of singing in front of the microphone.  He always does. He comes every Friday morning to watch you practice and as for you, you practice singing without any instruments or gadgets every morning, when the entire bar is in deep slumber. Clearing your throat, you start to sing but at first, just with wordless tunes, scaling your voice.

The lyrics:

{ heard he lives down a river somewhere

With six cars and a grizzly bear

He's got eyes, but he can't see

Well, he talks like an angel, but he looks like me

Oh, Lord

Oh, Lord }

Tsubaki rests his chin in between the slit of his index finger and thumb, elbow fixed on the table beside the glass of a strawberry milkshake. His eyes straw away due to the jingle of the bell coming from afar that is located at the apex of the back door. Someone is here. Tsubaki can not see them until they step into the main arena. Maybe they are from the staff section he consoles himself. He looks at you to check if you are expecting someone’s arrival at this time of the day but he finds you immersed in your voice. With those headphones on he doubts you could barely hear anything.

The thing is your Friday mornings solely belong to Tsubaki so anyone else is just noise to him but you do not know that. You know that every Friday morning he turns up sharp at 9 o clock without his twin bodyguards. He murmurs under his breath, “The music you play in bars is more real than what I play in stadiums.” and sips the strawberry milkshake through the pink straw.

You cover the microphone with your palm; moving your head away from it a little you retort tartly. “Oh? That’s new. Are you mocking bofurin?”

Tsubaki's red lips have a tinge of the pinkish milkshake he just sipped. He could not even gulp it down. Azure eyes go static, a palm over his mouth. Awkward. Waiting. 

“That’s what I thought. You could never,” you chime with a smile plastered on your face that you often maneuver during interaction of any sort with customers. He finally gulps down the strawberry milkshake. It feels stale and does not help with either the heat or the bubbling tension amongst his chest ribs. The moment you were about to sing again, your eyes switched to the entrance of the bar lounge.

Tsubaki’s sky lake eyes follow as he murmurs, “Umemiya-kun. . .?” it sparkles as if the sun shone upon him after a cloudy day.

Your mouth fell open ajar. How courageous of Umemiya to roam as free as a bird carrying all the fame and fortune on his back. ���I hope you’re not looking for a place to hide, Haji.” you quipped gaining the attention of pair of eyes in the room.

Umemiya swigs his palm in front of his face exclaiming with zest, “No. No. Not at all.” He walks towards the stage and stands in front of you. Now, you can see both: Tsubaki and Umemiya. “Can’t I come visit an old friend?”

That would be unusual for a rockstar of his status. He has just started new heights. Recklessness sure follows wherever there is popularity and financial prosperity. Even with all that, it is unusual for him to pay an unscheduled visit for him. Could it be he is out in the wild, hinting at his muse? 

“you’re stuck.” Umemiya’s gigantic smile disappears instantly. Oh! That must be it. He is stuck with his music. “Bingo.” 

“Hmmm. That's what I thought. I mean you can’t afford to pay a visit like this unless you need me.”You pull his leg a little as Tasuku fidgets with the hem of his dress revealing a fair amount of this thigh. How tactless! Or could be intentional? There is a bleak prospect of that so for the better or worse you do not follow the trail of that thought. It's your jealousy wrapped with anger trying to stretch your heartstrings and release it, snapping the string and rewarding you with a bleeding heart.

You excuse yourself for a minute because it truly feels like someone is already tugging at your heartstrings and it's none other than Tsubaki. The way he acts around Umemiya bothers you. The way he acts around you clams your heart but you can not run after that tranquility. Never. Not in this life.

By the time, you come back Tsubaki has already left and Umemiya is sitting, waiting for you by the window side. He spends nearly half an hour trying to schedule a time with you and you can not lie to him. You can not lie to him even if you want to because you have to appease Tsubaki. So, if you agree with him, help him with whatever problem he is facing. 

It was decided that after a gig, the next weekend his staff would come and pick you up from your house and drop you at his house. And, when the work is done his staff will drop you back to your house.

The next morning strikes with a devastation deadlier than death. 

There is a photo of you and Umemiya on the front page. It is blurred just a little enough to not recognize your face but people around you can tell easily that it’s you. Tsubaki certainly can. That’s the only thing that matters, not the contents of the photo or how ambiguous it is. You and Umemiya are standing close to each other, closer than normal people. He is touching your earring and the angle of the photo makes it seem that he is touching your cheek. Damn! These paparazzi. You try not to call any of the Bofurin members because by now the must be busy handling the situation, especially Tsubaki being Umemiya’s sole advisor. It is almost mid-day. You throw the paper in the dustbin and pour liquor before burning it. Sure, you are jealous of Umemiya but you do not pray for his down fall. It makes you feel horrible to even think such a case. If this the price of love you have to pay, you would rather fall out of love. As if you can afford to do that. You can perhaps but not now. You have your reputation to protect.

A few nights later, after your first show when you walk back to your green room you find Tsubaki waiting in your green room without the lights on in the dark Your green room is nothing out of the ordinary except for him. He is like a cilantro in dessert. He does not belong here, in the world of booze and cheap bar lights. 

“What’re you doing here?” you try to sound angry, even annoyed but it is the shock that he hears the most, maybe a fear hidden underneath your voice. So, he does not leave the chair but rather folds his legs, one over the other. The taut and toned muscles of his legs are on vivid display making it even harder for you to focus. 

 “It was easy. I sneaked in.” He responds with so much detest in his heart that it makes you think he is mad about the photo. But he has no right to be, you remind yourself. After all, he is the one to choose to turn a blind eye to your feelings.

“Well, I have another performance so you have to wait.” you tartly spoke walking towards the mirror for some touch-up. Tsubaki watches you as you put lipstick on your lips.

“Why do you think I’m here?”

“Let me answer you with a question.” You turn your face to him, your hand still being kept on the wooden skin of the dressing table. “Why do you think I didn’t join Bodurin?”

“So, it's true. The rumors are true.” This guy . . . 

“Are you fucking kidding me?” The opened lipstick clatters among the cosmetics separating the maroon part from the lipstick case as you throw it away. Tsubaki does not say a word; just spares a glance at the smudged part of your lips, must have happened when you swatted it away.

“All this time, I thought you . . .you liked him. You liked him.”  Tsubaki exclaims in a low voice leaving his seat and coming close to you. “So, I restrained myself. I kept reminding myself—” his fingers linger on your chin. “ That you are not mine to own.” Right! How could you not think of this? Tsubaki the smudged part of the lipstick and you let him. “Now, i don’t have to do that.” he whispers against your lips. You gulp. He still has not let go of your chin. You don’t think he is going to  . . . kiss you, right? He chins your face up a little expanding a little more access towards your collar bones. Tsubaki jocks down, kisses on your exposed collarbone. Just a peck. “That will do for now. Will quiet down the rumors too.” Tsubaki smiles. You look at the mirror to check your reflection. There it is the lipstick mark, as bright as a diamond. You do not dare to wipe it off. You don’t want to. 

Tsubaki stands behind you as you watch yourself in all glory. He moves aside the fall of your hair onto your left shoulder. You tilt your head, eyes glistening as you look at him through the mirror. There is hope. Want. Lust. Desire. . . Tsubaki wet his lips seeing you inviting him but he can not do that, not here. You have a show to host, and people to entertain. So, he unzips your dress exposing your skin. You must either be wearing a backless bra or nipple pads. If not none, you are getting an earful from him later but for now, he proceeds to place a trail of kisses, slow and full all over your back. It is frustrating how you can not see his face or the lipstick marks he left on your back.

Tsubaki stands up after kissing you till the dress would allow him. He zips it up as he stands. “I’ll wait for your show to be over. Then, after the show we are going home.” He whispers into your ear but he is too close so you shrink feeling ticklish all over your body. A few days ago he felt light years away, so out of your reach and now he is standing behind you, as close as he can get for now. 

“I’ll hurry after the show if .  .  .” you can finally find your voice now. Wait, can you sing properly? Of course, you can; you reassure yourself. 

“Oh don’t worry.” Tsubaki interrupts. “ I’ll make sure we will make up for all the time we have lost love.” He holds your hand assuring you that it's okay; he is not running anymore; he is not. If anything, he feels repentance for suffering all these years regretting his feelings for you but now that bitter feeling has sublimed he is so full of love that it feels like his heart will burst at the seams. It's not suffocating anymore. It’s liberating. Love is liberating. OH DEAR! What blind fool he has been to not to see the love you have for him in those galactic eyes.

@underratedcharactercorner @interstellar-inn

[gothamite-rambler]

Nightwing finally got his hit back

Taking place during the Jason Todd redemption arc, Nightwing and Jason Todd (going by Red Hood) have made semi-amends and Nightwing wants his Batman (their adopted father) to talk and make amends as well, but he can only take that man's stubbornness for so long.

Nightwing along with Donna Troy enters the Justice League headquarters, spotting Batman talking to Wonder Woman.

Nightwing: Hey Batman, can you put your ego aside and talk to Jason?

Wonder Woman (perking up): Oh, the small warrior is alive! Fantastic!

Batman glared at Wonder Woman, but she rolled her eyes and put her hand up.

Batman (to Nightwing): About what? Is he apologizing to me?

Nightwing: You know that is not what needs to be done.

Batman: I'm not discussing this then.

Batman walked off. Nightwing clenched his fist, following behind Batman to call him out on how he's been acting.

Nightwing: You can disagree with his whole killing bad people rule, you have a right to not want to kill the Joker, that's your opinion, but you threw a Batarang at him and it pierced his neck!

Wonder Woman woman and Donna Troy have been following the two, both gasp in shock.

Donna: You left that part out!

WW: Batman, that's wrong with you!

Batman faced away from the group, but he stopped walking. He tried to keep his anger buried, but this was too much stress.

Batman: He was supposed to DODGE!

Nightwing (shouting): HE IS NOT MIND READER!

Batman: I'm not apologizing I said what I said to him and I will not take that back!

Nightwing (gritted teeth): I'm not telling you to! You already showed you'd rather let the Joker walk, over avenging him and while Jason is rightfully mad at that, I have always agreed with your no-kill rule, but you have to see how you're acting is making things worse. TALK TO HIM!

Batman stayed silent for a second then turned to Nightwing.

Batman: Or Jason doesn't want to own up to the fact that I am right and he is a killer. Now, I might forgive him when he admits he was wrong.

Wonder Woman clenched her fist aggravated.

Wonder Woman (scolding the man): Really thought you'd say the right thing.

Batman: What do you want me to do lie to him? Tell him he was right? I'm not doing that, I'm not going against my principles to appease his petty revenge.

Nightwing (gritted teeth): Maybe don't tell him you regret... adopting him!

Donna (to Wonder Woman): He said that but the context kind of makes what he said less awful.

Batman: See she gets it!

Donna: Oh my Goddess I don't!

Batman: The context is that I didn't want to adopt him because of what he has become! The former Robin is a malicious murderer!

Nightwing (shaking with rage): Who is coming around to not being that, no thanks to you ... ASS!

Batman: Take that back!

Nightwing: Sure, you're not an ass. You are being a shitty person! You can't just talk to him for five minutes?!

Batman: No! Because I didn't do anything wrong!

Nightwing: You let the man's murderer walk, you threw a Batarang at him under the ridiculous assumption that he would read your mind or instinct or whatever you want to call it and dodge that over just killing his murderer! And again while I don't fully agree with killing someone... Jason has brought up a lot of good points-

Batman: He hasn't!

Wonder Woman: Hey let's just calm down. Things are getting a little heated now.

Nightwing (ignoring the woman): You're just going to ignore the fact that Jason may have a point? I'm not saying become a killer or anything, I know how you are! He has every right to be mad that the Joker hasn't been killed yet! He told you to his face he forgives you for not saving him but he doesn't get why you kept the Joker alive or at least did not try to kill him once! I killed him once, but you couldn't try. Oh wait, because Superman beat the shit out of you.

Batman: That is not why. I don't kill, because I'm not weak you!

Donna covered her mouth in shock.

Nightwing (taking a deep breath to calm himself): You're angry, I'm just gonna let that go. Joker has no remorse for what he does. Jason still has emotions yet you're acting like he's on par with the Joker. I tried to put up with the Joker's "lol random, chaos, look at me!" But the whole clown schtick stopped being a schtick when he shot-

Batman: Finish the sentence and I will bitch slap you!

Nightwing: Oh so Barbara getting shot in the stomach and paralyzed isn't something you want to talk about?

Batman: Don't you bring her into this.

Donna: Hey, let's just take a breather. Step back and-

Nightwing: No, Donna, Diana let me say this. Barbara is wheelchair bound because of that... that sick bastard! So don't you give me some bullcrap speech about how "criminals should serve time over getting killed" because the Joker is the one who deserves the death penalty!

Nightwing chuckled angrily losing his patience with the man he saw as his father.

Nightwing: Who's next, who will he go after in this family of ours? Who will he kill or maim before you wake the hell up-

Batman back hand slapped Nightwing nearly knocking the man to the ground. Donna and Diana gasp again. Nightwing blinked, his heart raced with rage. His clenched fist, as he glared at Batman.

Nightwing: Yup.

Nightwing punched Batman in the nose, knocking the man to the ground. Donna walks over to Nightwing as Wonder Woman looks down at Batman (she's not on his side here). Nightwing breathes heavy.

Nightwing: Whoops, I forgot the shout dodge. Why don't you get up and I'll do it five more times!

Donna (lowering Nightwing's arm.: Relax, bluebird. He's not worth it.

Nightwing: You're right Donna. Bruce, I'm calling you that because you don't deserve to be called Batman right now, we're both heated at the moment, so I'm going to go. You will change your tone, I believe you will, and I won't turn my back on you, but if you hit me like that again I won't hold back and I will use a lot more than my fists.

Nightwing leaved, walking with a calm, steadiness even though his heart was still racing

Donna: That was badass!

Wonder Woman stared at Donna for a second then nods.

WW: Good retaliation when someone slaps you as well. That precious blue bird has grown to be a great hero.

Donna nodded with a smile.

Donna: All right, aunt Diana, we're headed back to the tower. The team and I are going to calm to him. You... you handle... That.

WW: The pitiful man on the ground? My pleasure.

Donna ran out while calling out to Nightwing.

Donna: Bluebird, you can't go punching the guy, you promised you'd hold back!

Wonder Woman sighed, rubbing her forehead.

WW: I swear, Bruce you are ridiculous.

Batman touched his bleeding nose.

Batman (serious): Huh, this is a new feeling... pride for someone else.

Wonder Woman held up her hand to countdown from three.

Batman (after three seconds): Unfortunately it's overshadowed by all this unyielding RAGE!

Wonder Woman pressed her foot on Batman's chest to keep him down.

Batman: Diana, move your boot!

Wonder Woman: Oh Brucie, you think I'm going to let you go after that precious man after all you said, after you pimp slapped him? Nah, you need a moment to collect your thoughts and calm your testosterone.

Batman (frazzled): It wasn't a pimp slap... it was a disciplinary backhanded slap.

WW (rolling her eyes): And I guess his was a self-defense punch.

Batman (mumbling): He- He caught me off guard.

WW: What ever helps you rationalize slapping him. I will remove my boot and you get your apology prepared for him and that precious young warrior who was a fan of me. Many awful things were said and done to both of them by you, but you can fix this.

Batman: I'm not apologizing because I'm not wrong.

WW: That does make things harder. Thanks for that.

Batman: No problem. Move your boot please.

WW (moving her boot and walking off): Grown ass man acting worse than Ares when the delivery man forgot his straw.

Batman: I heard that!

WW: Wanted you to, Bruce.

[chlobliviate]

Wolfstar Microfics - Fix it fic

Words: 803

@wolfstarmicrofic

***

“It’s not you, is it?” The words stopped Remus in his tracks. He turned to face Sirius, who had appeared in the doorway of his room. “It’s Pete.” He whispered.

Remus blinked at him, “It’s Pete?”

“I gave everyone different information about where James and Lily would be last night. I told you they’d be at Hogwarts, I told Marlene they’d be staying in Hogsmeade, I told Pete they’d be at home.” He paused, “He went there last night. Voldemort. Blew the place up.”

“No.” Remus shook his head. “Are they—”

“They’re fine. They were at The Burrow with Molly and Arthur.” Sirius looked at his friend. “Why did you let us think it was you?” Remus shook his head. “Why did you let me think it was you?”

“I thought it might be you if that’s any consolation.” Remus sounded pained. “I didn’t want to believe it, though. And, I suppose, with what Dumbledore’s had me doing, I thought you all might as well think me the traitor. It would be less painful for you all when I inevitably didn't come back.”

“Please tell me.” Sirius’ fingers gripped the edge of the doorframe. “Fuck what Dumbledore says. Tell me, Remus.”

Remus sighed, “I’ve been trying to convert werewolves to our side. Greyback and his pack, mostly.” He shrugged, “Fairly unsuccessfully.”

“You’ve been with Greyback?” Sirius’ knuckles were white. “Why would he ask you to do that? That’s fucking awful.”

“He couldn’t exactly send anyone else, could he?”

“But still!” Sirius looked devastated and Remus wanted to wrap his arms around him and never let go, but he took a step back and leant against the wall opposite Sirius’ door.

“Do James and Lily know? Dumbledore?”

“Yeah, Aurors picked up Pete and a few others this morning.” A tear escaped from the corner of Sirius’ eye. “I’m so sorry, Moons. I’m so sorry.”

“I would never,” Remus said quietly. “I owe the world to you, James, and Lily. I would never put any of you, or Harry, at risk on purpose.”

“I know.” Sirius bit the edge of his lip to stop it from trembling. “I don’t know how we got here. This fucking war is destroying everything and I’m destroying everything.”

“Sirius,” Remus looked so tired, “I’ve forgiven you for worse.” He tried to smile, “We’ll get through this.”

“Will we?” Sirius took a shaky breath. “All this time Pete has been feeding us lies about you, and we just believed them. ‘Isn’t it strange that Moony never tells us about his missions?’, ‘Remus missed another meeting? Weird.’ And…” He shook his head, “He said that he saw you kissing Barty Crouch from school.”

“I see.” Remus said slowly, “Well, for what it’s worth, I have never kissed Crouch.”

“Good, he’s a fucking state.” Sirius half laughed, half sobbed. “He made it sound so believable, Moons.”

“I’m sure he did.” Remus said, “I wish you’d all had more faith in me, but I understand what it must have looked like.”

“Can you not be so fucking understanding just this once?” Sirius shouted, “We thought you were a traitor, that you’d give up James and Lily. How can you be so calm about this?”

Remus pressed his lips together, “I’m so tired, Pads. I don’t have it in me to fight anymore. Pete was making comments to me about you, too. I started to believe them. So, I get it. He was our friend, why wouldn’t we believe him?”

“But you’re our friend. Why wouldn’t we trust you?” Sirius rubbed his eyes, “I don’t know how to make this right.”

“Pads,” Remus said softly, taking a step towards him. “Please, listen to me. I’m upset about it, but that doesn’t change the fact that I love you. Uh, all of you. All of you.” Sirius’ eyes flicked up to meet Remus’, who instantly looked away.

“Love you too, Moons. Oh!” Sirius pulled a chocolate frog out of his pocket, “It might be a bit melted now, but…”

“Thank you.” Remus took the frog and held it against his chest.

“For the endolphins.”

“Endorphins.” Remus corrected.

“Yeah, same thing.”

“It’s not the—” Remus smiled cautiously. “I would be so lost without you. It’s important to me that you know that, alright?”

“Can I sleep in your bed tonight?” He asked quietly. They’d shared a bed fairly often at school, staying up late and talking. Even since living together, there were nights when Sirius would crawl into Remus’ bed after a bad dream. “It’s fine if you want to be alone, obviously.”

“Of course you can.” Remus looked towards his room, “I really don’t want to be alone.”

“I missed you so much, Moony.” Remus could tell that he didn’t just mean from the week he’d been away with Greyback’s pack.

“I missed you too.”