#but I just can't with her trying to fix what isn't broken and doing so by hurting the innocent

[star-lights-up]

cherik but they go to therapy and they learn how to love in a way that is not harmful to the other

ooooh I love this!!

Assuming it's a writing prompt (if it's not i'm sorry it is now)....

Neither Charles nor Erik really WANT to go to therapy. Erik is very much a "keep it inside, I am fine, I am fine fine fine" guy and Charles is a DIY guy. He'll fix everything and anything himself. Talking to someone about problems and emotions? "we've got that at home! It's called an inner monologue, or a friend, or a journal."

At some point (aka after about six months of big, blowout fights where things get SERIOUSLY broken. Dishes and stuff like that. Also Erik leaving occasionally after them and Charles falling back into deep depression) Raven convinces Hank to team up with her and blackmail Charles and Erik into going to therapy.

("Couples therapy, marriage counseling, individual therapy, I don't fucking care what they do but something needs to happen. Or I will murder both of them myself. C'mon, Hank, I know you've got at LEAST one thing we can get Charles with...." "Raven, that's blackmail...." "So?")

Charles is skeptical, but manages to stay friendly when they first meet their counselor. Erik is being a grump and barely opens his mouth.

Then, at their first appointment, shit just... goes south. They start arguing, Erik storms out, Charles starts having a whole big mental breakdown, the counselor is sitting there like O___O

"Why can't I fix this?" Charles sobs, feeling like the biggest idiot in the world. It's what he's been thinking ever since he met Erik, really, ever since they started fighting and kissing and running to and from each other.

And the counselor is just like, "This isn't... It's about you and him, growing together and leaving space for each other's opinions. There's not anything you can do to "fix" it, because it's just a process. Learning to respect each other. And you certainly can't do it all on your own."

Charles nods and sniffles and manages to regain his composure. He apologizes, and leaves.

Erik's sitting in the car outside, still fuming. And Charles gets in and he's just super quiet. They start driving back home without another word.

Then when they're in the driveway Charles is just like, "Erik, I can't say our situation is all your fault. I hold the blame too. But I need you to try. For me. Please." Then he gets out and goes into the house and Erik's just sitting there in the car feeling angry and confused and stuff.

The next week up until their second appointment is quiet. They don't fight, they just don't really talk that much. Evening chess games are quiet. Erik sleeps in the spare room, and neither of them mention it.

They fight again at the next appointment, but Erik doesn't leave this time. And that tells Charles that he's trying.

The third appointment, it's Erik's turn to break down in tears. Charles holds him while he cries. That evening, Charles asks him to stay, to sleep in their bedroom again, and he does.

Slowly, appointment by appointment, they learn how to talk to each other again -- and how not to talk to each other. Charles realizes that there's certain things that he just has to not critique Erik for, even if he doesn't support them, and sometimes things just aren't as big of a deal as he makes them. And Erik realizes that he can't keep avoiding the hard conversations, even when he thinks that him staying will just be a burden to both of them.

They fight less. The remaining arguments are less destructive, too, and sometimes they're almost having fun, debating with each other. They can be seen holding hands, smiling again when they're around each other. They go on dates again, and more often.

Raven says a triumphant "I-told-you-so!" Alex, Sean, and Hank owe money after a month of no broken dishes.

And Charles and Erik? Well, they're happier than ever.

[ilikekidsshows]

Let's be real, what weight does being called a salter by most Marinette stans even hold anymore? I'm not trying to be a bitch, I'm serious. What does that even mean anymore?

Marinette stans are more often than not very transparent with their priority being defending their made up version of Marinette. So their arguments barely ever hold up when put to the test because they don't care for what actually happens in Canon.

So why should I be offended by being called a salter and awful person by people who switch the moral approach of their argument on a dime flip every time a new episode drops? One day prior they chew you out for saying that Marinette will act jealous and sabotaging again because she never learned shit, and next day with the new information they turn around bending over backwards to justify why Marinette still acting that way is actually totally realistic and no problem at all.

Excuse me? How am I supposed to take you serious after that?

Or the way Marinette stans before Kwamis Choice swore and yelled from their self claimed moral high horse that Ladynoir will totally get fixed in season 5 and that Cat Noir was only sidelined so much because now season 5 will have Marinette dedicated to making it up to him and returning the partnership to one of equals again as Ladynoir becomes canon as pay off. Only for that to NOT have happened at all, so suddenly Marinette stans pulled a 180° and suddenly go on bout how there was nothing to fix anyway, and that accountability shouldn't always require immediate communication and effort to fix the unfair treatment. It's fine if that only happens in season 8 or 9, that's "realistic" and its what makes Adrien's support so "great". Because he understands that redeeming oneself shouldn't need to include... accountability... though of course only when it MARINETTE. Everyone else and Adrien in particular taking all accountability is just him being mature and fair to her uniquely stressful and soul crushing circumstances that make it unbearable for her to do the same in return.

She cries about being awful once or twice so no need for her to apologise or acknowledge or fix what she did wrong if she isn't comfortable with it yet. Don't you see how awful and cruel you are for saying that redeeming yourself needs of you to redeem yourself now? Dont you see that Adrien understands that Ladybug can't give anything right now and that his love language is selflessly serving her and wants nothing in return because that's the right thing to do in his position? She still loves and respects him so much, he just understands that she shouldn't need to show it if she needs to heal first through Adrien taking care of her.

Do you even understand the beautiful DEPTHS of redemption? And how long it takes sometimes to do so for a broken complex individual like Marinette? Seriously, in my made up season 10 all of that will have played out in a way where non of that will ever have been a problem, just stfu you don't GET it like I do 😒

This is an actual paraphrased conversation I had with a person who's opinion I once respected a lot and I wished my paraphrasing made it worse but honestly, that's exactly what they said. And I'm still taken aback that they said that. But they sure weren't the only Marinette stan I found saying things like that.

What the FUCK am I supposed to take from that besides the revelation that they just do not apply any kind of moral baseline to Marinette's character? What is there for me to respect?

Marinette stans say they are against bullying until Marinette does it or benefits from it. Then they openly romanticise and defend it with the only argument being "that wasn't bullying, Marinette wouldn't do that!" as if that changed what happened on screen. All it reveals is that Marinette stans' words don't mean anything, their moral standards are entirely dependent on who is doing it and benefiting from it. Thats not a moral standard, that's a biase you don't owe up to.

Marinette stans say they are against violence and abuse of power until Marinette does it or benefits from it. Then they will defend hypocrisy with whatever random excuse they come up with in that moment that more often than not is either "that doesn't count cuz I said so" or "it's fine that Marinette benefits from sexist double standards and a clear main character biase bc it is her show". Once again showing that they don't actually draw any kind of line moral wise for Marinette's actions and the writing, their opinion of said morality entirely depends on what works best for Marinette. And then they get angry when that gets called out.

I won't lie, I do think that some people in this collective therapy group here ARE to harsh sometime, but I can definitely respect that alot of them make it clear where they simply draw the morality line and they won't budge on their core beliefs the show is shitting on.

There is a massive difference between simply salting Marinette and angrily speaking up against something you think is genuinely morally wrong or harmful in a kid's show like this.

Alot of people I see around here say that they wished they could go back to liking the show, Marinette (or whatever character) the way they were once used to but simply can't because the show keeps on making whatever problems they had worse.

I don't necessarily always share the points of no return but I can fuck with the reasoning because it's a consistent angle they always stand by that goes beyond the complaint that their fav is simply not getting the special treatment or has hurt feelings. I can trust most Adrien stans I see who dislike or salt on Marinette to form a proper argument and a whole pov that stays consistent when you bring up other parts of the show.

I can't say that I've had the same experience with Marinette stans and for me it's obvious why. Marinette stans were never forced by the show to take a step back and lay down their core principles they won't budge on because Marinette always gets put first and that's what they care about the most.

They can say however they like that they don't support bullying, ableism and abuse, they are absolutely doing so with full chest voice for their Marinette biase, they are just not willing to reflect on that bc that would reveal to them that their made up Marinette isn't real.

They have no coherent moral baseline in their arguments, they're proudly hypocritical, and then get angry when you call them out for going back and forth on their moral "standards" in a discussion about moral principles.

What is there to respect anymore? Being called a salter by them has long started feeling like a compliment because for me it became synonymous with "isn't changing their option on a fucking whim the second a new episode dropped". And if that makes me a salter, then so be it. I'm not throwing my moral principles out of the window for a cuddled protagonist who's became the poster girl for harmful white feminism on kids tv.

---

The irony, when I went to my inbox to read this message I saw that a Marinette stan had also sent me an ableist insult. Some Marinette stans have no convictions or moral standards even for their own behavior, and the extreme individuals in the Marinette fandom never fail to prove the criticisms of them correct in a single harassing message. Like, of course they’re gonna excuse Marinette bullying people, they themselves would most likely do the same for petty reasons. I can be petty too, but my pettiness takes the form of me feeling immense moral superiority whenever I delete one of these little hate messages. Like, I might be a jerk about a fictional character, but at least I’m not a pathetic anonymous troll in someone’s inbox.

Marinette stans lie when they say they don't support bullying, because they excuse it when Marinette does it as well as when they themselves do it. Like, I’m not saying they’re all like this, I get these messages so rarely that there’s no way the entire Marinette fandom is full of assholes. Still, this isn’t the first time I got an anonymous message from some random hater right after I posted something spicy about Marinette and it isn’t the first time such a message included at least one example of ableism. It's just a fact that a lot of Marinette stans are hateful liars who spout ableism as soon as they can do it anonymously, so, like, why should we take anything they have to say seriously anyway? Every time a Marinette stan says: “I don't support bullying or harassment” there’s a high chance they actually mean: “until someone says something spicy about the flawless queen Marinette, then I’ll use bullying and harassment without hesitation”. We really shouldn’t care one bit what these people have to say, because they’ll say whatever suits their agenda of the day.

When I say I don’t support bullying or harassment, I mean it and I live by it. I don’t do it, because I don’t think anything can be solved by sending people hate mail, nor would I get any satisfaction from it. I don’t even want to encourage anyone else to do so. That’s part of the reason I invite people to send their gripes to me; this blog is already a Miraculous-negative space, so here people can put their grievances into words without anyone who’s just minding their business getting harassing messages, even when people send me stuff clearly inspired by a specific person or group. Like, Marinette stans can make a fuss about how we’re terrible people for discussing our gripes amongst ourselves, but we aren’t the ones harassing other people here.

Although, since I’m being honest here, I have to say I do agree on the harshness. I don't always agree with everything the anons who message me say 100%, but I try to focus on the parts I do agree with or have something to add to. I’ll even admit I sometimes look over a response draft and wonder if I’m being too harsh, but often I’m just not motivated to watch my tone. I know from past experiences that Marinette stans don’t care how you’re wording your criticisms, just the act of criticising Marinette makes you the bad guy.

[kurara-black-blog]

White Lily/Dark Enchantress: I must know why cookies where created!

Me: Dear, probably not even the witches know why they were created, calm the fuck down

[inkskinned]

you have to go to work so you can pay for your doctor, who is not taking your insurance right now, and if you say i can't afford the doctor's you are told - get a better job. it is very sad that you are unwell, yes, but maybe you should have thought about that before not having a better job.

(where is the better job? who is giving out these better jobs? you are sick, you are hurting - how the hell are you supposed to be well enough for this better job?)

but you go to the doctor because you had the nerve to be hurt or sick or whatever else. and they tell you that it is because you have anxiety. you try your best. you are a self-advocate. you've done the reading (which sometimes pisses them off worse, honestly). you say it is actually adding to my anxiety, it is effecting my quality of life. so they say that you are fat. they say that all young people have this happen to them, isn't it a medical marvel! they say that you should eat more vegetables. they say that you probably just need to lose a little more weight, and that you are faking it for attention.

(what attention could this doctor possibly give? what validation? that's their fucking job, isn't it?)

there is always a hypochondriac, right. someone always tells you about a hypochondriac. or someone who is unnecessarily aggressive during the worst days of their life. or someone looking "for a quick fix". or some idiot who wasn't educated about how to properly care for themselves who just abandons their treatment. and again, the hypochondriac, the overly-cautious hysteric. these people don't deserve to be treated like humans (right), and since you might be one of these people, you also don't get treated like a human. because those people can really fuck with the system, you now have to pay for it. and besides. you're actually probably faking it.

(more often than not, you find a 2:1 ratio of these stories. for every "hypochondriac", there are 2 people who knew something was wrong, and yet nobody could fucking find it. the story often ends with pointless suffering. the story often ends with and now it's too late, and it's going to kill me.)

you are actually just making excuses. someone else got that procedure or that diagnosis and he's fine, you should be fine too. someone else said they watched a documentary about other inspirational people with your exact same condition, maybe you should be inspirational, too. you're just too morbid. your pain and your experience is probably just not statistically concerning. it is all self-reported anyway, and you're just being a baby.

(once, while sitting down in the middle of making coffee, you had the sudden, horrible thought - i could kill myself to make the pain stop. you had to call your best friend after that. had to pet your dog. had to cry about it in the shower. you won't, but that moment - god, fuck. the pain just goes on and on.)

you know someone who went in for routine surgery and said i still feel everything. they told her to just relax. it took her kicking and screaming before they figured out she wasn't lying - the anesthetic drip hadn't been working. you know someone who went in for severe migraines who was told drink water and lose weight. you know someone who was actively bleeding out and throwing up in the ER and was told you're just having a bad period.

in the ER there are always these little posters saying things like "don't wait! get checked today!" and you think about how often you do wait. how often the days spool out. you once waited a full week before seeing the doctor for what you thought was a sprained wrist. it had actually been broken - they had to rebreak it to set it.

but you go into the doctor. the problem you're having is immediate. the person behind the counter frowns and says we're not taking your insurance. you will be paying for this out-of-pocket.

they send you home with tylenol and a little health packet about weight loss or anxiety or attention deficit. on the front it has your birthday and diagnosis. you think about crying, and the words swim. it might as well say go fuck yourself. it might as well say you're a fucking idiot. it might as well say light your money on fire and lie down in it. and the entire fucking time - the problem persists.

it's okay. it's okay, it's just another thing, you think. it's just another thing i have to learn to live with.

[lxclerc]

𝐬𝐨 𝐚𝐦𝐞𝐫𝐢𝐜𝐚𝐧 ─ 𝐦𝐯𝟏

summary: where max verstappen is the subject of a love song from a singer who never writes love songs pairing: max verstappen x american singer!reader faceclaim: no one specifically but based off olivia rodrigo

note: me? writing max verstappen? smau fluff? on main? everyone look away.

dailyynupdates

liked by user33, user4, user16 and others

dailyynupdates yn was seen around monte carlo the past few days, taking pictures with fans and allegedly cozying up with three time world champion max verstappen

view all 104,210 comments...

user12 what is going on in the house of commons because this was the last thing i expected

user39 this is quite literally the most random pairing i've ever stumbled across

user91 how do they even know each other 😭 user63 right like...where did this even come from? how did it start? literally how did they meet? they could not be farthest apart in the sphere of famous people

user19 now who the hell is max verstappen and why is he with my wife?

user49 oh girl you have a lot to catch up on the max lore user71 max is a formula one driver user56 saying max is a formula 1 driver like he currently isn't dominating the sport to the point where people hates him saying he's making it boring since he keeps winning because he's just that fucking good that literally no other driver can keep up is kinda wild user10 oh so our girl's new man is good at his job user52 "good at his job might just be the biggest understatement of the century when it comes to max. man's a fucking beast at his job

user48 i dont have to see her with her ratty ex anymore omfg war is over

user93 dare i say...they're adorable

user82 yn being in an age appropriate, healthy relationship? i never thought the day would come

user74 we won for real 🥹🫶

dailyynupdates

liked by user23, user31, user69 and others

dailyynupdates max and yn in a video posted by yn's friend 😭

view all 59,129 comments...

user93 oh my god look at them 😭

user81 they look so in love i want to cry

user65 "maximillian, do i look pretty like this?" "you always look pretty" i couldn't quite catch what he said at the end but 😭😭😭

user85 dutch here and i believe he said "laiverd" which means darling user75 this means so much to me user65 you just made my entire week

user45 seeing her in love after all the shit men is healing a part of me i didnt know was broken

user53 max fixing her hood then kissing her cheek what if you just stabbed me

user31 every time i see these, i get the urge to take a shot of bleach 😀

sincerelyyn ✓

liked by conangrey, maxverstappen1, taylorswift and others

sincerelyyn can't have a conversation if it's not all about you

view all 402,452 comments...

yourfriend as the other person of those conversations, he's fine i guess 😒

sincerelyyn you know i love youuuuu

taylorswift love seeing you happy ❤️

sincerelyyn ❤️❤️ user73 mother is all of us user63 you know it's real when it's taylor swift approved

conangrey i hate happy couples i hope you both trip 🫶

sincerelyyn die 🫶

user92 their friendship is everything to me

user15 not girlie trying to soft launch like we all don't know who it is 😭

user43 THEYRE SO ‼️🥵🥰⚠️

user65 you're so right

user24 i'm so happy finally seeing our girl happy 😭

user84 "someday i'll be everything to somebody else" YES YOU ARE BABYGIRL 😭

maxverstappen1

liked by sincerelyyn, charles_leclerc, landonorris and others

maxverstappen1 my american girl 🩷

view all 308,291 comments...

charles_leclerc i still can't believe this is happening

maxverstappen1 for someone who don't even follow me, you sure are early to my posts 😒 user91 max gagged him with that im afraid

landonorris please please max talk to her about getting me tickets 😭

user85 lando is just like us fr struggling to get guts tour tickets maxverstappen1 no ❤️ landonorris 😔 sincerelyyn @landonorris let me get you in contact with my team 🤍 maxverstappen1 baby noooo sincerelyyn be nice, max landonorris HELL YEAH THANKS YN user42 this is the crossover i never thought i needed

user66 max posting non racing content and being all soft in the comments for yn in what world am i in

user52 fr i feel like im in an alternate universe 😭

sincerelyyn love youuuu

maxverstappen1 love you more

sincelyyn i never knew love could be so golden till i met you <3

maxverstappen1 mijn hele hart is van jou, schat (you own my entire heart, darling) user42 they mean so very much to me 😭

danielricciardo god the two of you make me nauseous

maxverstappen1 hating because you ain't us danielricciardo im not liking that attitude, kid 😒 user71 daniel is so us

sincerelyyn

liked by maxverstappen1, taylorswift, yourfriend and others

sincerelyyn so american will be out on all platforms at midnight. a letter to the man i love, the only way i know how ❤️

view all 592,649 comments...

maxverstappen1 i adore you with everything in my being ❤️

sincerelyyn ik hou van je (i love you)

i hope you guys liked this as much as i loved writing it 🫶

[shanastoryteller]

i know spn hates good writing and also sam, but the dumpster fire of s4 really could have been salvaged if they'd just played ruby and castiel straight

by which i mean

ruby should have been one of the good guys (honestly it feels like the writers changed their minds last second regarding her anyway)

castiel should have been the villain (which, let's be clear, he totally was)

the point of this is that it would force dean to confront his own bullshit and maybe figure himself out, which not only would have been good television but would have been satisfying to me, personally

sam's problem is that he wants there to be a good equal to every evil. that he believes goodness exists even where it doesn't, that he always wants to give things a chance, that he always has hope. they sound like good traits, up until they're used against him. they reach the station of angels are bad eventually, but it should have been more immediate and visceral, that there is no greater good here. sam should have had this knocked out of him, which would have shattered him in way, to lose this thing he's depended on his whole life, but it really would have hammered home that it's choices that really do matter, not circumstances

dean's problem is always that he sees monsters as monsters with no grey area, that sam always has to play his moral center the second anything becomes complicated. then he goes to hell, breaks, tortures innocents, and an angel yanks him out and tells him that he's a righteous man

dean desperately desperately wants this to be true

because it's sam who they had to look out for, sam who was destined to go darkside, sam with the demon blood

dean doesn't have that excuse

he's just a human man with a hunger for violence who never learned to curb his appetite. who was instead pushed to gorging himself on it, who is left broken and desperate and angry by what he did to save himself. his whole life, his whole self perception for thirty years, was about protecting innocents. then he betrays that in hell. do you think he kept count? how many innocents he destroyed against how many he saved? the day it equaled out, do you think he wished he could weep?

dean is so unbelievably messed up by hell. not the torture he endured, that's barely a blip, but the torture he inflicted is what haunts him

so he needs for sam to be the bad guy

he's using his powers, he's hanging out with demons, he's drinking demon blood. he's the monster. he's inhuman

(he's using his powers and hanging out with demons and drinking demon blood and still he's doing less harm than dean, still he's trying to save people. dean can't accept this, because he can't be the rotten one. he'll forgive sam anything, but never himself, so it has to be sam. because he can fix sam, he'll always love his brother, so if he's evil there's stil a path forward there. but if it's dean? if he's the one going evil? sam's left him before. why would he stay now? if dean is the one going darkside then he loses everything. himself. his brother. it has to be sam)

dean is projecting all his own shit onto sam because he can't deal with any of it, which is why he treats sam like shit, why he treats him in a way that he's never treated him before. it's how he treats himself. and sam has no idea what to do with this, is left reeling and hurt and broken himself by dean doing this to him. sam never thought dean would leave him to die in the panic room, because dean wouldn't, not the dean he's known his whole life, not the dean that loves him. not alone.

but dean would do that to himself. and since sam is his proxy for himself, it's what he does to sam, but sam doesn't know that so all he feels is the weight of betrayal and grief and rage

isn't it funny, almost? the demons brought sam back just as he was, exactly the same. the angels bring back dean but he's not the same. dean comes back wrong, comes back different. but no one wants to say that. to deal with it

having ruby be evil and castiel venerated justifies all of dean's spiraling, all of his punishment. he was right all along, sam was the problem, don't you see?

boring

ruby stays loyal to sam, a demon who chooses something different, who chooses the boy with the demon blood because there's something compelling about sam winchester, as tempting as the apple before eve, and ruby didn't get where she is by knowing better

(remember when sam pulled all the psychic kids together, acted as leader, and resisted azazel? there is a leader in sam, a compassion in him, that azazel had to cheat in order to beat. and if ruby can show him how to win against demons then-)

castiel let sam out of the panic room. he's following orders, because that's his job, and damn the consequences. this should have been seen as the act of betrayal and evil that it was, castiel proving he was never really on their side at all, never on the side of preventing harm. it also would have made his redemption arc mean something, it would have given castiel a lot more to work with if they'd had to really bring him back over

ruby realizes too late what killing lilith means. tries to stop sam, but now that she's here it's too late, kill or be killed. sam accepts that, is willing to die rather than start the apocalypse. but then dean is there, and he can't watch his brother die again, he just can't. so he kills lilith to save dean, when he would have been willing to die himself

ruby gets them out of there. they discover what castiel did, that he pushed forward the apocalypse rather than prevented it

this breaks dean. he finally snaps, but it's good, because everything he'd used to shore himself up before had been terrible and rotted and corrosive

a righteous man is not a good man. dean is forced to confront everything he's done in hell, and after he'd gotten back, everything he put sam through, how he left him in that panic room and almost killed him, how he's treated him for the past year. how it was a demon who tried to help in the end and an angel that damned them

and how sam saved him anyway, damn the consequences

we should have returned to what the show had been building up to from the beginning - that sam loves his brother enough to do terrible things and dean has no idea how to deal with that

so we've got sam and dean on the run with ruby, castiel's slower and much juicier redemption arc, and dean having to pick up the pieces of himself while sam tries to figure out how he gets them out this mess. and sam's guilt is justified here, his aching sense of responsibility, because this time he kills lilith knowing it'll free lucifer. he makes that choice, for dean. and he's determined to fix it

just. demon blood tainted sam and turncoat ruby trying to save the world. the angels trying to end it. all while dean finally accepts the crushing guilt of what he's done and starts to work through it, starts to work on becoming the brother sam lost, on once more being the steady thing sam can hold onto no matter what it takes, because sam choosing him reminds him of something he'd told himself he forgot

he doesn't want to be a righteous man, a torturer, a demon, a victim, a martyr

he just wants to be sam's brother. the one he looks up to, depends on, loves

he wants what he's always wanted

to feel worthy of his little brother's affection

[mcflymemes]

THE TORTURED POETS DEPARTMENT - THE ANTHOLOGY BY TAYLOR SWIFT PROMPT LIST *  assorted lyrics from the album, some lines slightly adapted for meme purposes but feel free to adjust as necessary

even if it's handcuffed, i'm leaving here with you.

trust me. i can handle a dangerous man.

i love you. it's ruining my life.

does it feel all right to not know me?

i am who i am 'cause you trained me.

quick. tell me something awful.

i loved you the way that you were.

we were just kids, babe.

i can fix him.

you and i go from one kiss to getting married.

you said i'm the love of your life.

way up there, i actually love it.

i just don't understand how you don't miss me.

do you hate me?

did you think i had it in me?

what if i told you i'm back?

i still miss the smoke.

i'm not trying to exaggerate, but i think i might die if it happened.

you look like stevie nicks.

it's hell on earth to be heavenly.

i still can't believe it.

this happens once every few lifetimes.

didn't you hear? they called it all off.

it's happening again.

my friends say it isn't right to be scared.

i might just die.

fuck you if i can't have us.

tell me about the first time you saw me.

are you gonna marry, kiss, or kill me?

no one's ever had me... not like you.

stay away from her.

there wouldn't be this if there hadn't been you.

i don't think you've changed much.

that's where i was when i lost it all.

life was always easier on you than it was on me.

i hoped you'd return.

do you believe me now?

what if your eyes looked up and met mine one more time?

what are the chances you'd be downtown?

is it something i did?

oh, we must stop meeting like this.

they say what doesn't kill you makes you aware.

i'm not a donor, but i'd give you my heart if you needed it.

looking backwards might be the only way to move forwards.

the story isn't mine anymore.

what a charming saturday!

none of it is changing.

wild winds are death to the candle.

one bad seed kills the garden.

i'm bitter, but i swear i'm fine.

this place made me feel worthless.

i didn't want to come down.

everything had been above board.

blood's thick, but nothing like a payroll.

you can mark my words that i said it first.

the professor said to write what you know.

all of this to say, i hope you're okay.

your words are still just ringing in my head.

i built a legacy which you can't undo.

who do i have to speak to to change the prophecy?

the effects were temporary.

no, i'm not coming to my senses.

babe, you gotta fake it 'til you make it.

you know you're good when you can even do it with a broken heart.

i guess a lesser woman would've lost hope.

thought of calling you, but you won't pick up.

you're a professional.

long may you reign.

you're an animal. you are bloodthirsty.

now i seem to be scared to go outside.

i don't believe in good luck.

i hate it here.

if i'd been there, i'd hate it.

only the gentle survived.

i'm lonely, but i'm good.

you have no room in your dreams for regrets.

i thought it was just goodbye for now.

are you still a mind reader?

let it once be me.

i haven't decided yet.

i still dream of him.

i'm so afraid i sealed my fate.

it was always the same searing pain.

i can't forgive the way you made me feel.

it wasn't a fair fight or a clean kill.

she used to say she wished that you were dead.

tell me all your secrets.

they tried to warn you about me.

you're in terrible danger.

i'm the life you chose.

yes, i'm haunted, but i'm feeling just fine.

no one asks any questions here.

tell me i'm despicable. say it's unforgivable.

i'm running back home to you.

you should see your faces.

you knew the price going in.

was any of it true?

who the fuck was that guy?

i don't ever want you back.

did you sleep with a gun underneath our bed?

you don't get to tell me you feel bad.

you wouldn't last an hour in the asylum where they raised me.

am i allowed to cry?

there's no such thing as bad thoughts. only your actions talk.

they're going to crucify me anyway.

i know i'm just repeating myself.

that's the closest i've come to my heart exploding.

[boredpotate]

Happier Chapter 9

Disclaimer: I do not own Arcane or any links. I only own the concept idea to this story and the story itself.

Concept: Isekai Fem Reader turns back time to fix her timeline, but it has unforeseen consequences.

Reader Pov

"MMMMPPPHHH!!!" I let out a muffled yell of pain. One of my kidnappers stomping on my braced leg; the leg brace being broken a while ago with some of the parts being bent or broken off.

I tried to escape, I really did, but that blow to the head really isn't me doing me any favors. They snuck me back down here to the deep end of the Undercity and once far enough away, they started their "payback" in some fucking dead end alleyway. Taking turns punching, kicking, slapping and just overall beating me to a pulp.

"Hey! Remember not to mess her up too much. We won't get paid if you break the merchandise" The woman who I determined as the boss of the rest of the group.

"Oh c'mon! We did this to get payback didn't we!?" one guy says as he kicks me on the ground as a heave for breathe.

"Yes, we did. We also all want to make an actual pay from this right?," their boss says and I can only guess the others agree, "Then we can't fucking kill her! We fuck her up, let her have what has been coming for a long time and then get paid. After that we can start making big moves down here, especially after this bitch is stuck in recovery." she says as she grabs my hair and lifts my head up to show them my state before throwing me back into the dirty alleyway floor.

"Fine. Still gonna have our fun though." Someone says kicking me in the back, the bruises that were already beginning to form from earlier assaults making the pain much worse.

I feel emotions rising again, but I don't shed tears for them. That would just make them happy. Instead I hold out and hope for this to be over soon; for the pain to just stop already. But a part that I try to bury down still sticks to my mind. A part of me that fears that this won't end, that they won't stop, they'll get carried away or change there minds.

'What if I die here?' the thought runs through my head as someone else decides to join in and get their hits in. The pain not getting any better, and only escalating as I scream out from behind my bindings.

"AAAAMMMMMPPPHHH!!!"

Powder Pov

"So what is it you wanted to talk about?" Ekko asks as we dance together as the music plays and people party and mingle around us.

"Two things. First, Y/n and I talked and she said some things that really touched me and open something up in me. So, I want to present the power cell with you. As partners, like you said you wanted to; before I walked off on you like a bitch. Sorry about that by the way." I say, feeling a little guilty now that I think back on when Ekko first asked me and I got upset at him.

"Really!? That's great! And you don't have to apologize for being upset. You were going through some things. We all do. But are you sure? You really want to do this with me?" he asks which makes me smile.

"Yes. I really do. I-I don't want to be stuck. I was scared of messing it all up and screwing things up for you too. I thought I would fail at it all..... but then Y/n talked to me. I'm still scared, but if I fail, I want to work through it. I wanna push forward and keep trying. I want to do that with you, Ekko." I admit, and he smiles and we lean into each other and have an intimate moment together on the dance floor.

Ignoring a random whistle and comment towards us from someone who is probably drunk as shit, even though the party just started.

We pull apart and continue dancing; holding each other close and I feel a weight be lifted off my shoulders. Finally feeling..... free.

"You don't know just how happy that makes me Powder. I promise you won't regret it," he says with determination in hus voice making me smile at his steeled resolve, "And the second thing?" He asks, making me a little nervouse.

"Right. So y'know how we said we would talk about our "thing" with Y/n tomorrow?"

"Yeah. Why?" he asks as he furrows his brows.

"Well when Y/n talked with me she said some things that were really touching and meaningful and then something inside me was just like 'Oh shit. I love her,' sooooo I may have kiiiiiiisssed heeer" I say as I shrink back slightly, afraid that he will be mad.

"......Okay." he says casually which makes me stunned and we stop dancing.

"Wha?"

"Okay. Surprisingly, I'm not mad."

"Are you sure?"

"Yes. Usually I would, but this is Y/n we're talking about. We both know we have a "thing" for her, and I honestly don't mind," he explains making me relax more as I hold his hands, "Is that weird?" He asks and I take a moment to genuinely think on it before answering.

"No, at least, I don't think it is. Even if it were the other way around, I don't think I would be mad either. As long as it's her," I say as I think back on those beautiful words that Y/n let spill from her lips. Her soft lips, "She makes me feel a certain way. Just like you. She brings something out of me that I didn't know was there." I say, and I hear Ekko chuckle.

"I know. She's also kind." "Caring too." "Loves Isha." "Always wants to help." "Cute too." "More like hot as fuck."

We bounce off of each other as we list the things we have grown to love about Y/n in just a month of knowing her. I smile and think back fondly on all the times we spent with Y/n and Isha. Just living life happily together.

"I love her, Ekko."

"I love her too." He says and we both stand there, two idiots in love with someone and wanting to bring her into our lives.

"You think.... You think she might feel the same way?" I ask him with hope in my voice.

"I don't know. You're the one who kissed her. You tell me." he says with a laugh.

"Well she didn't push me away, but she also didn't kiss back, although I think that's mostly because she was in shock. You should have seen her face."

"I got a glimpse of it when you two came back. Looked like her brain was fried" he says and we both laugh a little at that, "Since we're on the topic; how was it? The kiss?"

"It wa-"

"Hey you two!" I am interrupted by being pulled into a tight hug by none other than my sister Vi.

"Hey sis." I say in a strained voice.

"Happy you made it." Ekko says, his voice also strained and I see Cait shaking her head over Vi's shoulder.

"Of course we made it! This is a big night! Sevika's here too, but she went straight to the bar for a drink." Vi says as she somehow squeezes us tighter.

"Sweetie, you're gonna kill them if you hold them any tighter," Cait says, making Vi let go and take a step back, "You two looked like you were in a good mood. I'm guessing the energy cell was a success?" Cait asks.

"You know it. I already have it on display and ready for Powder and I to present to investors and the judges." Ekko says, making Vi perk up at the mention of my name.

"Together?" Vi asks, and both she and Cait look towards me expectantly so I give them a nod, making them both brighten up more, "That's great! Amazing! So are you two are going into this as partners?" Vi says excitedly making me smile at her encouragement.

"Of course. It's like what Y/n said. We're gonna rattle the stars." I say as I think back on those beautiful words that reached and touched such a deep part of me.

Suddenly I feel something ram into my lower back, almost throwing me off balance, begore quickly turning aroundto see Isha in a new frilly dress. Looking very happy.

"Isha! Look at you! When did you become royalty?" I ask as I kneel down to get a better look at her and she does a twirl to show off her dress to us.

"I didn't know Isha was a princess. Cupcake, why didn't you say anything?" Vi says jokingly and get's a pinch on her arm.

"I'm not a princess, and my family isn't royalty. We just collected a lot of influence over all of the years." Cait defends herself.

"So, basically royalty then." Ekko says, making the rest of us chuckle as I pick up Isha, and Caut sighs in defeat.

"Ekko! Powder! There you guys are, I've been looking for you two," I hear and turn to see Mylo and he does a double take at Vi and Cait, "Oh, hey! Good to see you two made it."

"What did you need?" I ask.

"Just wanted to let you know there's already some high profile looking people eyeing your energy cell, if you wanted to leave some early impressions on some investor's before the competition. Claggor is already showing off our plant. See?." he says as he points in a direction and we see Claggor showing off their invention to some people.

"Shouldn't you be with him?" Ekko asks and Mylo burshes it off and blows a rasberry.

"That's more of Claggor's thing. I'm better off mingling with the ladies." he says smugly and obviously eyeing at Gert on stage.

"You're such an idiot" I say as I shake my head, before feeling Ekko grab my hand as Vi tries to give him some advice on what not to do with women.

"Wanna make an impression?" Ekko asks and I look at Isha who nods her head happily.

"That looks like a yes. But first; hey sis! Cait!," I call to them and grab their attention, "Can you ask Y/n to meet us at Ekko's display? She helped us make it too, so I want her to be there when we show it off. That's fine, right?" I ask Ekko and get a nod.

"No problem! Where is she amyway? You four Are usually always hanging out together." she says with implication in her voice.

"She was sitting at the bar the last time we saw her. She should still be there," I say before adding on more thing, "And if she looks like she's in shock or contemplating something. That's fine. Just send her our way." I say we start walking away to where I would presume Ekko's display is.

"Don't worry, we'll find her." Cait says reassuringly before we start heading to the power cell; it already having people inspecting it.

"You ready?" Ekko asks me and I nod.

"Always."

Caitlyn Pov

"Can you believe it, Cupcake? Powder is gonna present with Ekko! She's finally gonna get out there and show off to the world." Vi says excitedly. Which I understand completely considering all the times I've heard about Powder holding herself back.

"She looked happy. I wonder what made her so confident to try now?"

"I'm willin' to bet it's her and Ekko's latest eye candy," Vi says with a smirk, "Those two are lovesick if you ask me." she says as we look for the girl in question around the bar area.

'Who would've thought an investigation would lead to a new addition of our family and friends.' I think back to just a month ago when we first met Y/n in this bar. I was slightly scared of her then, but afterwards she showed a much mofe gentle side of her. One that cared and laughed.

"Vi! Cait! It's good to see you two made it!" Vander calls out as he finishes serving a handful of people.

"Of course we made it. We wouln't miss such a big night." Vi says as we approach the counter.

"I saw you two lookin' around the bar. Somethin' wrong?" he asks sounding concerned.

"Nothing at all. We were just looking for Y/n. Powder and Ekko want her there with them to present their power cell, and said she should be here. Probably in an unusual state too, but Powder said that's fine." I explain to get rid of his worries.

"Oh, good. Don't need trouble on such a goon night. Last I saw she looked freaked out about somethin' before going out the back door for a breather. Though I don't know where she went afterwards, Silco and I got busy once the party started kickin' up."

"Thank you. We'll go check to see if she's still out there." I say as I glancs at Vi and nod towards the door, before making our way there.

Once outside and in the alleyway that the door leads to, we do a quick scan around to see if she's here.

"Damn. Not here either. You don't think she got drunk and wandered off do you?" Vi asks me with some worry in her voice.

"No. Vander would have told us if she drank. I also don't think he would have let her out here on her own is she was drunk."

"That's true. He wouldn't risk that on any of us." She says as she goes deeper into the alley to see if she might be nearby, and I head the opposite way towards the main street.

As I walk, I suddenly hear a small wet sound when I take a step.

'It didn't rain today.'

I take a step back and look down before kneeling to get a closer look. My eyes widen slightly at what I knew was blood. My shoe making a print of it and some drops of it surrounding the area I stepped

"You got something over there Cupcake?" Vi asks, but I don't respond. Trying not to panic.

'It could be from anything.' I thought before spotting something familiar laying near a trash bin.

"Cupcake? You okay?" Vi asks now behind me, but I get up and quickly walk towards the object and pick it up. My eyes widening.

Y/n's helmet. No doubt about it with the bunny ears Isha drew on it. It's dented in the back and I turn back to Vi, her now leaning down inspecting the blood before looking up at me and her eyes widen in fear just like my own at the helmet before looking into my eyes. We have a wordless conversation through our eyes before rushing back inside.

Y/n was in danger.

Powder Pov

"With this, it should produce a much more effecient power cell. Both for long-term use and energy efficiency. We...." Ekko continues to explain to people that have shown interest in the energy cell. It's been going great. Isha seemed to like the attention when we mentioned how she along with Y/n helped us with putting it together. Speaking of.

'Where is she?'

It shouln't be taking this long for Vi and Cait to find her. Unless Y/n herself didn't want to come, but they would have told us if Y/n refused.

I take a glance around the bar and try to see if I can spot her when I see Vi and Cait rushing in through the back door, not caring to close it. I see them rush over to the bar and immediately grabbing Dad, Silco, Sevika and Benzo's attention, as I see fear on their faces. My heart starts beating faster at their expressions and only get's worse when I see the other three's expressions go from shocked to fear.

I hold Isha closer at that and tighten my hold on Ekko's hand and give it a tug to the side.

"Um, could you give us one second?," Ekko asks them before stepping aside with Isha and I, "Powder, what's wrong?" he asks and I only nod towards the bar and he looks to see what I see. Isha noticing as well.

We move forward to try and get a better look at what's happening through the crowd, and I spot something in Cait's hands. Something I recognize immediately as we get a better angle.

"Y/n's helmet." Ekko says for me with with worry in his voice.

I see a dent in the back of it and look up and see that Cait has spotted us. She doesn't need to say anything for me to know what happened. I can see it in her eyes.

Y/n was attacked, and by her absence took also her.

'Someone kidnapped Y/n.'

Something inside me awakens at that thought. I don't care. Y/n was taken away. We need to get her back.

I need her.

We need her.

Reader Pov

How long has it been? Minutes? Hours? I don't know. All I feel is pain and exhaustion as I lay limp in a dirty alley. I tried to grt away from it all and dissasociate, but the pain is too much. My throat feels strained from all the yelling and screaming.

"Alright! I think that's enough. We gotta move before someone finds us here," Their boss says, but I feel a foot apply weight on my braced leg. I only groan in pain as I am too tired and in too much pain to scream, "I said enough! Anymore and you'll kill her."

"And!? This bitch has had this coming for a long time!" The man from earlier yells out.

"Because then we can't get paid, remember? We got our payback; now we get paid." Their boss says again.

"I say we off her here and now. Bitch deserves it." A different woman says and I hear some murmurs of agreement from the others.

"Are you guys crazy!? We do that and the enforcers will come down on us harder than they already are now!" Their boss says, trying to regain authority, but it doesn't sound like it's going well.

"She's the reason why they're hitting us as hard as they're in the first place! What happens after she recovers and comes for us!?" the other woman says, getting more murmurs of agreement.

"I say we send a message." I hear the guy from earlier say. I start panicking as I see someone hand him my shovel that was taken off of me and start walking towards me.

"Hey! This is not the plan!," Their boss tries to step in front of me to stop him, but is blocked by others and moved aside, "Are you guys serious!? If you do this we're fucked!"

I try to get up to run or fight. To at least do something, but I'm too tired and in too much pain. I can only hardly push myself up with my arms before being stomped on my back.

'This is it? Dead in a fucking alleyway?,' I thought as I am kicked to roll over on my back. The others all cheering the man on as he steps over me, 'Maybe this is the cost? Time letting me face the consequences of my actions,' I barely stare up at the man as he lifts my shovel high over his head. Ready to bring it down onto me, 'As long as they live.' I try to accept, but then the memories come running back to me.

Talking with Vander, Silco and Benzo.

Listening to Heimerdinger play toons on the street.

Messing around with Claggor and Mylo.

Having tea with Cait and Vi.

Sevika showing her tough love.

Going out with Powder, Ekko and Isha.

Talking, laughing, caring and living.

'I want to live.'

I move my head last second and the shovel imapcts the ground next to my head and I use as much strength as I can muster curl up and kick him away. I use the force of the kick to roll over onto my feet and try to run in the confusion, but don't make it far. Someone manages to trip me and I fall down again.

"Damn! She still has some fight left in her! Not enough luck though!" The guy says with a laugh as I try to get up, but I get stomped on my leg.

"Stop! If you do this we're done for!" their boss, or maybe former boss, tries again to stop him but is stopped.

I can only look over my shoulder as the man with my shovel stands over me again and raises it high.

'At least I tri-'

*BANG*

"AAAGH Shit!" The man yells as he drops the shovel and blood spills from his hand. I look forward and see Cait and Vi there.

"Drop your weapons now! Or else!," Cait yells out orders, but no one moves. She shoots near one's head and only barely misses, "I'm not asking again! Drop! Them!," she commands them and they follow orders this time, "Back away from her to the end of the alley! Now!" she says and I glance back to see them continuing to follow orders.

I hear Cait and Vi get closer to me and I can only make brief eye contact with Vi before they move to stand between me any kidnappers. I hear people running from where Cait and Vi arrived and look forward again.

"Cait! Vi! What happ-......" I feel a wave of relief go through me as I hear Powder's voice and see Ekko next to her with Claggor and Mylo behind her.

They rush over and untie my restraints before gently turning me over after seeing my state. Powder gently lifts my head to lay it on her lap instead of the cold floor and brushes some hair from my face. I can't help but let tears fall now and cry. I turn myself into her and she holds me close; not too tight because of my bruised body.

"Someone get her gun." Vi says and Ekko is quick to respond and get's it from the floor and brings it back to Powder and I. Handing it to Powder to hold onto.

"Kids! What's goin' on!?," I hear Vander's voice now, rushing towards us and I peak out from my embrace with Powder to see him, Silco and Sevika. Vander is wearing his old gauntlets. They give me concerned looks before staring down the alley at the thugs on the other end, "What happened." Vander says, sounding more like a command than a question.

"They were going to kill her. We got here right before that guy was about to cave her head in." Vi answers and I feel Powder stiffen at that. I feel her hold on me only tighten a little. Not too much to hurt me, but just to have me closer.

"Ekko." She says and no other words are exchanged. He looks over at the thugs, specifically at the one bleeding from his hand before he picks up my shovel from the floor.

He walks forward and before the guy can step back Ekko swings the shovel at him, knocking him to the ground; the others backing away from the sudden outburst.

"Wait! Wai-" he's cut off as Ekko doesn't stop. He keeps beating on the guy on the ground. No one tries to stop him. Not even Cait; who keeps her rifle aimed at the other thugs.

"Wait, he doesn't ha-" I try to protest through a strained voice, but Powder just cradles my head closer to not see what's happening.

"Shhh. It's okay. Don't worry about it. Everythings okay now." she says as I hear the guy's yells and screams and Ekko beating him senseless. I hear bones break, blood leaking and more screams.

"Stop! He's had enough!," I hear their boss say, but Ekko doesn't stop. He ignores her and keeps going. I feel one of Powder's arm loosen and peak out to see the woman go step forward to grab Ekko, "Sto-" *BANG*

I hear a familiar gunshot. Not from Cait. Powder's arm with my gun in hand is extended out towards the woman. Powder shot her. The woman drops dead and I stare in shock at her corpse, before Powder wraps her arm around me to hold me close again. Ekko continuing to beat a man to death; his screams and yells getting weaker. I hear the breaking of bones and blood being spilled. No one stops him.

"Wh- Why did you....."

"It's fine. They deserve it." she says in a certain tone that sounds too familiar. Too much like Jinx.

I'm overwhelmed by emotions. Too much happening for me to know what to do. Eventually Ekko finally stops and I can hear his labored breathes.

"We-We won't resist arrest. We'll go to Stillwater!" I hear a thug says and getting no protests from the others.

"Vander. Y'know what needs to happen right?" I hear Silco ask, "They hurt one of ours. They were going to kill her." he continues in that cold tone I know all too well.

A few seconds goes by before I hear Vander's heavy footsteps walk forward towards where I know Ekko is.

"You're done here, Ekko. Kids! Take her home."

"What!? Dad, they were going to kill her! If Cait and I di-"

"There might be others who might try something Vi. Take her home," Vander says again as Ekko walks over Powder and I, "We'll handle the rest."

"What!? We'll turn ourselves in! We won't bother he-" the voice is cut off by a loud impact.

'What are they doing!?'

"Come on, let's go home." Ekko says as he picks me up gently and I can only get a peak over his shoulder at what is happening. I see another dead body in front of Vander, there head looking like it was caved in. Powder runs a hand through my hair before gently coaxing my head to lean into Ekko.

"Don't worry about them Y/n. Get rest." she says as if there isn't a massacre about to happen.

As we leave Vander, Slico and Sevika in the alley with the rest of the thugs, I can feel my exhaustion taking over. The screams and yells being left in the distance. My eyelids grow heavy before I have no choice but to sleep. Too tired and hurt to fully process anything that is happening.

"It's okay. You're safe now. Just rest. Isha is waiting for you back home." Powder says softly before I finally drift off into sleep.

Hope you enjoyed. And hopefully 2025 is a good year for everyone. Sorry for any grammar mistakes.

[ihavethedreamies]

Versace Royal | Hyunjin

Hwang Hyunjin - Stray Kids

Rating: M (18+) MDNI

Word Count: ~4.3k

Pairing: Idol! Hyunjin x Idol! Older! AFAB! Reader

Genre: Request, Idolverse, Reader-Insert, Fluff, Smut

!!This is smut…if that much isn't clear you should probably leave now!! MDNI!

Warnings: She/Her Pronouns used, Swearing, Kissing, Oral (M! Receiving), Shower Sex, Unprotected Sex (Not Recommended)

Summary: Hyunjin and you are both international ambassadors for Versace and the rumors are put to rest when you announce you are both officially dating at a Versace event.

Author's Note: Got a request for this! I'm so happy that one of you liked my stuff enough to want me to write something for you!

Also I am working on the historical AU still, but I'm low-key working for my uncle doing something so...

P.S. I would have had this done and up earlier today, but I had to watch the Chiefs game even though I only watch for Pacheco (#10) and he got a broken leg.

Also, Winwin is in this! Just briefly, I like to wiggle him in where I can.

I am cross-posting this on Archive and Wattpad. Please reblog! If you know anyone that would like this or future fics but they aren't on here my name and icon are exactly the same on the other sites. Happy reading!

"Shit." You grumbled to yourself, looking in the mirror and scrubbing over your tooth with your finger to get the lipstick stain off.

"Here." Your stylist shuffled over to fix the error and as you held still for her, your eyes flitting over to Hyunjin. He was sitting in an armchair of the dressing room you two were assigned, scribbling on his tablet. He didn't have the jacket of his outfit on yet, sitting in just his tank top. Your eyes couldn't help but trace over his exposed arms, then back up to the slight furrow of his brow, the frown marring his beautiful face. Your stylist pulled back and she helped you get the dress you were to wear over the full-piece shapewear you had on.

"You don't need this you know." Your stylist whispered and you shrugged.

"I just wear it like a slip, I can't risk someone else trying to shoot up my skirt again." You looked at yourself in the mirror, not really loving your hair. It was pulled back into a tight low ponytail, and it made your facial features look too harsh.

"Sorry." The other woman whispered as she touched up your makeup. Your eyes flitted to Hyunjin again, his hair slicked back in a similar manner, but it looked good on him.

"Uh." His voice brought your attention back to him from your reflection in the mirror, a ding coming from his tablet.

"What?" You didn't bother hiding the apprehension in his voice.

"People already know we're here together." He sighed and you rolled your eyes so hard you worried you messed up your mascara.

"Not too surprising, we were on the same plane." You shook your head and when it was determined you were ready, the stylist moved on to Hyunjin.

"I don't wanna~" He whined, begrudgingly getting up from the armchair to sit at the vanity. As he shuffled toward you, you smiled at his bored look.

"Hold on." He paused you and so you halted, and he brushed something off the shoulders of your dress, then ran his hand over your smoothed hair.

"Careful, someone might think we're dating." You tried to hide your smile.

"We are dating." His deadpan tone nearly made you ruin your lipstick, but you halted your mouth before you stuck your tongue out like you had planned. Taking his place in the armchair, you couldn't help but glance at his still-on tablet. The article was open, and the title made you sigh.

"The Prince and Princess of Versace?" It seemed the name had left the K-Fanbase and had spread to even the international fashion press. It made you two seem more like brother and sister if you were the 'heirs' of Versace though. The article was topped with a picture of both of you with Donatella, but you two weren't in matching clothes in that one like you would be that day. Clicking your tongue, you grabbed the device and were about to look and see if there were any more articles, but you noticed his drawing app open. Looking up at him glaring at himself in the mirror, setting his intense expression for the night, you opened it, the image making you coo.

"You're drawing me?" You laughed at the glare he sent to you then.

"I always draw you." Hyunjin huffed and you giggled, wiggling in your chair and continuing to look at the news. Finding another article along the same lines, you drifted down to the comments, and your heart fell. Not only were there a bunch of his fans bashing you for what seemed like just standing next to him, even your fans were being mean too.

'He doesn't deserve her. She should date an actor.'

'He's the tallest in SKZ, but she still doesn't have to wear heels with him.'

'There's tons of other celebs and models there she could get, why go for another idol? Take some steps up girl.'

"I'm suing." You sneered.

"Stop reading comments." Your boyfriend scolded and you sniffed but relented.

"Don't wrinkle that, please, (Y/N)." The stylist then scolded you as well and you adjusted your posture. A knock on the door prompted a grunt from the man and a hum from you and his manager poked his head in the room.

"Donatella wants a photoshoot before the event." He announced and you sighed. Made sense. Your stylist hurried up her task and you helped her adjust and tweak Hyunjin's outfit once he got it on.

"Careful, people might think you like me or something." He teased you and you pinched him through the fabric of his tank top, and he yelped, making you giggle.

"Well, maybe I do…"

"Don't kiss him!" The stylist snapped and you halted. Yeah, red on his mouth would be a little too obvious, and she would have to fix both of yours make up as well.

"If some influencer tries to flirt with you, I'm going to scream." He grumbled, face still close to yours, also a bit cranky he couldn't kiss you.

"Same. But we just pretend I don't know English." You shrug playfully.

"You spoke with Donatella in English in the last video, good luck with that." You swore under your breath, finally letting go of his jacket that's gold and black fabric matched your dress's. Moving to go around him and start to leave the dressing room, he grabbed your wrists, pulling you back to him.

"No, no, come here one sec." He hauled you even closer, pressing you to him, nose barely grazing yours. His eyes met yours and the sharp look made you swallow hard, and the corner of his mouth twitched before he controlled it.

"Don't fucking wrinkle it!" The stylist more or less pulled him away from you and ran her hands over both of your garments to make sure they were fine.

"Go, and don't stop in a closet on the way!" She shoved you both out to be led away by your managers.

~~~

"Can you put and rest your arm on her shoulder, like with your elbow bent?" The shoot director motioned and Hyunjin followed suit, his forearm laying on your shoulder.

"Good!" You were glad that modeling shoots didn't want you to smile like all the pictures your mother took when you went home for Chuseok. Having him lean a bit on you made it harder to balance your own pose, legs crossed, all weight laying on one leg. You were in short heels, but they were still thin, and it made it harder to stay steady. You were glad the company never wanted your group to dance in heels, but your group had a more badass concept most times and so you got to wear boots or even sneakers.

"Careful." Hyunjin whispered in your ear, feeling your body shake a bit and he relaxed the pressure he was putting on you. You both followed the prompts of the director while the photographer continued shooting.

"What if we go with the prince and princess idea?" Your eyes flitted to Donatella, urging her with your gaze to shut up. She smiled playfully and your nose twitched.

"Like?"

"Get that chair, no, the fancy one!" The designer herself motioned and some staff started to move in a black velvet chair, and she came onto the set. She sat in the chair and then the director got the hint. You both were directed to stand behind and to the side of the chair, your hands on the back, postures straight. Just like the heirs to a queen.

"You saw that article?" You asked her when the shoot was done, and she smiled.

"Let's get going to the event now, I can be late but you two can't." She left to attend to who knows what and you gave Hyunjin a look and he huffed a laugh.

"(Y/N), Hyunjin." Your manager waved you over, his was on the phone.

"What?" He had spoken in a hushed tone, so you did too.

"The company wants you to announce your relationship tonight. They want to get ahead of the rumors."

"Tonight?" You hissed. There was no time to prepare, and the comments were already tearing both of you to shreds. The older man shrugged and finally Hyunjin's manager got off the phone.

"We're going to work with a few reporters that are here for Korean magazines, and they'll do a more or less scripted interview quick and that'll be it." The other manager informed, and you nodded, feeling a bit less nervous. You looked at your boyfriend then and he didn't look fazed.

"What?" You were still whispering.

"Maybe then guys will leave you be?" He was obviously still upset about the influencer that was flirting with you at the last event.

"Are you intimidated by a TikTok model?"

"No, but that doesn't mean I don't like them trying to get you back to their hotel room."  He was talking a little louder than you really wished for him to be, but he was using Korean so…

"You're getting me back to your hotel room, though?" You sent him a coy look and he rolled his eyes.

"No, we're going separate, then using the little door that’s in between them." He wiggled his finger back and forth and you exhaled a laugh.

"Let's just go to the red carpet…shoot…place." What did you call a red carpet than had no carpet, let alone a red one?

~~~

You waited to go up to get your photo taken at the Versace logo wall they had set up outside the runway hall, taking the chance to look around at who else was there. You recognized only a few people, and your heart sank a little not seeing a very familiar face.

"I thought Sicheng said he's done Versace shows before…" You clicked your tongue crankily, a group of three was better than just you two. Especially since Winwin was already a friend.

"(Y/N)." Hyunjin's voice caught your attention, and you strode forward to join him at the logo. The official and press photographers took a few pics and then Hyunjin moved on so you could do the solo shots.

"They could've put her in something shorter." You heard a voice murmur from the next spot in line and you shot a side glance over to look. Some guys with too chiseled of features and too greasy hair. Just pretend you don't know English. Just because your last interview with the designer herself was in English didn't mean everyone had seen it. They were probably famous or something, but they weren't even in Versace, so they were just guests or something. After the photographers thanked you, you nodded a bow and moved on, trying not to dash over to your boyfriend.

"Stupid dudebros." You huffed, adjusting your ponytail back behind you instead of over your shoulder.

"How old are you, noona?" Hyunjin teased and you shot him a look that made him laugh.

"I'm only a few years older, shut up." You told him not to call you that after you started dating since the other boys but Chan and Minho did as well.

"What'd they say?"

"Thought my dress could be shorter."

"Surprised they weren't wanting to see your tits."

"What tits?" You huffed, starting to lead him toward the actual runway hall and he scoffed.

"Just cuz' you're not stacked like Jihyo-noona doesn't mean you have no boobs." He sniffed and you shook your head, finding your designated seats at the side of the runway and sitting down. You adjusted your dress and set the bag they gave you along with it in your lap, crossing your ankles to the side. Every time you sat like that you thought of the Princess Diaries movie.

"You would know."

"I would know."

"Do you have any idea what the reporters will ask?" You moved on, still speaking quietly despite using a language most people likely did not know.

"No." He shot you a soft glance, "don't worry, we'll handle it together."

Through the fashion show, you tried to look genuinely interested, brain still looping on the press interview later.

"Stop looping." Hyunjin bumped you with his elbow as there was a gap between models. You took a deep breath and then let it out, genuinely noting the fabric of the purple dress the next model had on.

~~~

"You're shaking." Hyunjin wanted to just wrap his arm around you, or hug you, he could tell you were getting anxious. Normally press interviews were fine, but you were normally with your group, and you weren't the leader, just the eldest.

"I know." You desperately wanted to bite your thumbnail, that at least eased the strain on your teeth of your clenched jaw. But you had fake nails on and couldn't ruin them. You two were waiting for the specified reporters to show up and you wanted to bury and hide in his chest but couldn't. Even after the announcement you couldn't, it was too brazen of an act. Like it was muscle memory, when the press showed up, your shaking stopped, and you adopted a more even facial expression.

"(Y/N), how do you feel about being called the Versace Princess?" First question. Of course. Your manager got a look, and he shrunk a bit and you put on a practiced smile.

"I can't complain being called a Princess." Good.

"Hyunjin?" Same thing.

"Not the first time I've been called a prince."

"You two are matching today, did you know you would be?" The reporter was still looking at him.

"Yes, but I think five other people have the same pattern on." He joked.

"(Y/N), what was your favorite piece in the show?" A new reporter. You both answered a few more fashion-focused questions for the fashion magazine reporters, then you finally got the first nail-biter.

"There have been rumors going around for a while that you two are dating. Is there any merit?" You looked at your manager and he nodded.

"Well…maybe." You smiled softly, looking down and Hyunjin stepped a bit closer.

"We thought coming with matching outfits made that a bit obvious." Your boyfriend added and the flashes from the camera's increased and you felt more eyes than before going to you.

"So, you two are dating?" Deep breaths.

"Yes." The reporters started murmuring and you were led to believe they knew beforehand, but they clearly didn't. Some were already typing on their phones, and you swallowed hard.

"Okay, if there are any more questions, they can be referred to JYP Entertainment." Your managers stepped in and the motioned for you two to sneak off and head toward the after party that was in the next building over.

~~~

"Oh, thank you." You gratefully took the glass of champagne from the waiter that immediately came over as you both entered the building for the after party. Hyunjin took one as well and you took a sip, then grimaced at the taste.

"You've never liked wine." Hyunjin huffed a laugh, and you sneered at him, then downed the rest. You set the empty glass on another waiter as he passed and headed straight for the food.

"These portions are too small." You grumbled, not even knowing what most of the little appetizers were.

"Don't eat that one." Hyunjin stopped you, mouth full of something, before you grabbed what looked like a little sandwich.

"Why?"

"It's not good." He shook his head, and you ended up just grabbing what you hoped was a cookie. Tasted like one anyway.

"There you two are!" Donatella's voice caught both of your attention, and you felt immediately calmer with her there.

"So, it’s official? Everyone knows now?"

"You knew we were dating before?" Hyunjin asked her and she gave him a bored look.

"I just wish we didn't have to be the ones to announce it." You shook your head, looking around nervously.

"Keep an eye on her, some of the guests have been saying some…unsavory things." The designer warned and you shook your head as she moved on to mingle more. At the last event there was a bunch of horny internet celebrities, and it seemed they were present that  day as well.

"Hyunjin!" Your boyfriend's manager called to the man and waved for him to come over.

"(Y/N), stay there, it would be suspicious if you both went missing." He told you and you froze in place. Watching them leave with wide eyes, you huddled closer to the food table, hoping to appear invisible.

"So, you're a K-pop girl or something right?" You flinched, turning to look at who approached. You couldn't place his accent, and you had no idea who he was to go off of that.

"Uh, yes. You are…?" You really wanted a drink but there was only champagne and wine. He told you his name and when no recognition passed over your face, he scoffed slightly but readopted his ‘charming’ expression.

"So, you know Blackpink?" You tried not to roll your eyes, watching him pick something to eat. His suit looked too small for him, and he had an arrogant aura. He crooked an eyebrow with a smolder, and you forced a smile.

"Um, no. I don't."

"BTS though right?"

"Um, no."

"Isn't your friend in BTS?" He motioned vaguely to the side and your brow twitched in annoyance.

"No, he's in the group Stray Kids."

"They were at Coachella." He pointed to you like he figured it out, smirking around his sip of champagne.

"No. That was ATEEZ." You hated dealing with people like him and it seemed he was mixing his ignorance with arrogance.

"Were they the ones that had Ryan Reynolds in their music video?"

"Yes." You smiled a bit more; actually glad he figured it out.

"What is your group called?" You begrudgingly told him.

"So, you like sing and dance and stuff."

"Well, um, yes." You looked around you, hoping and praying that anyone would come, but mostly Hyunjin or your manager.

"You the leader?"

"No, the eldest."

"How old are you?" He looked you up and down and you winced, feeling nauseated. You felt a familiar presence behind you, and you relaxed some feeling them. He didn't say anything, and you turned, slightly surprised to see Sicheng and not Hyunjin.

"I didn't know you were here?" You asked in Korean then and he was staring the guy down. For being so cute and pretty he was good at looking mad.

"We didn't make the runway." He told you and the other man huffed.

"This your boyfriend then?" He looked at Winwin patronizingly. You rolled your eyes.

"No, I am." Both you and Sicheng relaxed, and the annoying man turned, taking a step away when Hyunjin shoved past him.

"Thanks, hyung." He whispered to Sicheng who nodded and took a few steps away to grab something to eat.

"Is Ningning here?" You turned to him then, letting Hyunjin block you from the jerk.

"No, sorry. Who is that?" He nodded at the offender, wrinkling his nose at the food options. You told him and he shook his head, having no idea either.

"If you ever want to know what it feels like to really be treated like a woman, Miss (Y/N), I'm always available." He called around Hyunjin and you hated hearing your name come from him.

"Fuck off." You hardly ever heard your boyfriend sound that angry; he must have learned the tone from Minho.

"Excuse me!" A girl's voice drew everyone's attention and a few younger women who were probably beauty influencers shuffled up with pads of paper.

"Can we get you three's autographs?" You were grateful for the distraction and you each took turns signing for the three girls. The jerky man tried to take the pen next from Hyunjin and one of the fans shot him a look.

"Who are you?" This put a hard blow on his ego, and you held back a laugh, thanking the girls as they trotted away.

"He left." Hyunjin sighed, stepping closer to you, pressing his chest to your shoulder.

"You okay?"

"Yes. Thank you, oppa." You smiled at Winwin, and he smiled back.

For the rest of the after party you were able to avoid any more assholes, they seemed to not want to come over with both of the K-pop boys with you.

"I'm so fucking tired." You groaned, tapping your keycard against the lock of your hotel room and your boyfriend hummed in agreement, entering his own room. The door between the rooms was already open and he ended up just coming to your side and flopping on the bed.

"You'll wrinkle it." You warned, and he whined, getting off the bed  and immediately stripping down to his underwear.

"Jinnie." You huffed in amusement, picking up the garments and when you stood back up from crouching, he was already wiggled under the blankets. He hadn't even untucked them from under the mattress. You shook your head, hanging up his clothes in the garment bag, then removing your own piece and adding it.

"I'm showering." You told him and he didn't respond.

"I'm leaving the door unlocked!" You called and you could hear him wrestling to get out from the comforter as you laughed. You had just let your shapewear fall before he shoved the door open and your back hit the sink counter when he pinned you to it. His lips quickly swallowed yours, no longer needing to care about the transfer of lipstick. You whined, fingers cascading over the skin of his base torso, tongue trying to keep up with his. When he pulled away you took the chance to spin him around and pin him to the counter, laying kisses over his neck and chest, leaving red lip marks all over his skin.

"Wait, (Y/N), you don't-" He sighed as you sank to your knees, leaving fainter marks on his tummy. His cock was half-hard, and you palmed over it through his boxer briefs, and he grunted. You kissed over the fabric making him nearly whimper, and you whined yourself when you pulled his undergarment down, his fully hard cock springing out. You hummed, licking your lips, then eagerly sucked the tip into your mouth.

"Shit." Sweat had already broken on his forehead, and he leaned further back to steady himself, the cold marble of the sink made him shiver. When the tip of his dick hit the back of your throat, you used your hands to hold the other half of his cock, bobbing your head. Hyunjin reached out, managing to find the shower knob and turn the water on, getting it warm. His hand petted over your hair, then tightened, pulling you back. The sting at your scalp made you shudder in delight, your dazed eyes meeting his sharp ones.

"Get in, face the wall." He pulled you up and you were glad the shower was a walk-in. You sighed as the hot water met your tense shoulders, but you squeaked when he joined, pressing his chest to your back. Your breasts pressed to the still cold wall of the shower, and you squeaked as his fingers met your cunt.

"What got you so wet?" Hyunjin hummed in your ear, and you swallowed, trying to think of how to get words out.

"W-when you told that guy to fuck off."

"So long ago?" He chuckled, removing his fingers too soon, making you huff. Before you could even think of complaining or pleading for him, he had bucked his hips, burying his fat cock in one thrust all the way. Your breath left your lungs, the burning sting sending shocks of pleasure up your spine and down your legs. There was almost no room between you two as he pressed even closer, arms wrapping around your middle and holding your hip. He let you take a few breaths to adjust, kissing your neck, the heat of the water and his cock inside you set your blood on fire. One of hands moved to cup your breast, kneading the flesh and you whimpered.

“These are perfect.” He pinched your nipple and you squeaked, then whimpered.

"M-move." You were nearly up on your tip toes, body wound so tight.

"Oh, fuck!" You gasped as Hyunjin began fucking you in earnest, not building, battering his cock deep inside you. Your cunt spasmed as you gasped for air, fingers not able to find anything to hold onto on the slick wall, cheek pressed to the cold tile.

"You're just perfect, (Y/N). Your pussy was made for me, no one else can have it." His hand splayed over your lower tummy, the sensitive skin there twitching under his palm.

"I don't want anyone else to anyway." You managed to get out, his cock kissing your cervix with each roll of his hips.

"Cum for me (Y/N), yeah?" He hummed as he felt the familiar clenching of your gummy walls, his fingers rolling over your clit, sending you over the edge. Hyunjin filled you as deep as he could, grinding into you to help you ride your high, trying to fight his own.

"Fuck, please Hyunjin!" You whimpered, your orgasm seeming to last for hours.

"Well," he chuckled breathily, "if you insist." He bucked his hips a few more times and you both sighed as his hot cum painted your core white. Panting, you couldn't tell whether his skin was slick from the water or his sweat, but either way you both needed to actually shower.

~

"You know, I don't mind being the Prince and Princess of Versace." He told you softly as you laid in bed together, bundled up in your pajamas. Round two and probably three would occur otherwise and you both needed to be up early for your flight.

"No?"

"It's more like Prince William and Princess Kate than us being siblings."

"We're not married, Hyunjin." You huffed and he nodded sleepily.

"For now."

Master-Master List

Stray Kids Master List

[mysterious-adventurer]

I'd Never Forgive Myself - Liam Mairi x Reader

A/N: Hi everyone! I just finished reading Fourth Wing and I was absolutely devastated by what happened to Liam. Naturally I had to write a fix it fic. The reader's dragon's name is Silah, I picture her as a blue swordtail but feel free to picture her as your favorite dragon. I hope you enjoy reading this!

Summary: At the Battle of Resson y/n realizes that Liam's life is in danger and makes a risky decision to save him. Angst, fluff, hurt/comfort.

Please do not repost.

TW: Descriptions of battle.

My heart is pounding in my chest. Liam is hanging onto Tairn for dear life and Deigh is fighting for his against the wyvern that is trying to tear him to shreds. Deigh isn't winning this fight, and he doesn't stand a chance on his own. I can see the moment Violet realizes that Liam's life is in danger. I see her urge Tairn to fly faster, but they aren't close enough, they'll never reach Deigh in time. But I'm closer, Silah and I can make it, I know we can. We have to because I can't lose Liam. Not before I've worked up the courage to tell him - no, not going there. With all of my focus on saving Liam, I feel a rush a magic as a vision takes over. I see myself getting as close the wyvern as possible and then leaping from Silah's back onto the wyvern, I see myself plunging my sword into the weak spot between two scales at the base of its neck. Then, I'm pulled back to the present. I know how to save Liam's life; I just have no clue what it will cost me. 

        "y/n! Don't even think about it! You're going to get yourself killed!" Silah roars in my mind. 

        "I'm not just going to stand by and watch Liam die when I can save him! I'd never be able to forgive myself."  

        "There has to be another way!"

        "You and I both know there isn't" I stand as Silah gets closer to the wyvern preparing myself for the leap. Silah growls unhappily but says nothing else. As ruthless as she is, she has learned that I am every bit as stubborn and that there is no stopping me once I've made up my mind. Then, just at the ideal moment, the one I saw in my vision I leap from Silah's back onto the wyvern. 

        The wyvern screeches angrily in response but does not tear its focus from Deigh. I can feel that the magic controlling it is so strong that it cannot abandon its mission to toss me off its back, even though it wants to. I try my best to balance carefully and move as quickly as possible up the wyvern's back to reach its neck. The vulnerable spot is exactly where I knew it would be. A small gap between two scales where the base of the wyvern's neck meets its back. Under normal circumstances I might not have paid any attention to it, but right now I know that this small chink is about to change everything. I can see Deigh struggling more and more with each passing second. I draw my sword and drive it down into the wyvern with all my might. The creature lets out a horrendous screech but lets go of Deigh. I see him land safely nearby as he begins healing his wounds with magic. The wyvern tosses its head back attempting to snap at me as it shifts its full focus onto killing me. When it realizes it can't reach me that way it bucks violently and then I am weightless. 

        I feel myself plummeting towards the ground at an alarming speed and I know that I am going to die. At least Liam will be alright I think to myself as I close my eyes and try to accept my fate. Then my fall is broken suddenly, jarring every joint in my body. I hear the beat of wings above me and then nothing...

-Later-

        When I come to again, I'm lying in a warm, comfortable bed. I slowly blink the blurriness out of my eyes in an attempt to adjust to the bright sunlight streaming in from the other side of the unfamiliar room. I sit up trying to get my bearings. 

        "You're awake"

        I turn to see Liam as he stands from a chair beside my bed. Without hesitation I launch myself out of the bed and into his arms.

        "Liam! Are you okay?" for just a moment he holds me close to his chest, but then to my surprise he pushes me away. 

        "I'm fine, but what the hell were you thinking y/n?" his eyes are clouded with emotion, but his voice is heavy with anger and the muscles in his jaw are tense. I've never seen Liam angry with anyone before. 

        "That wyvern was going to kill Deigh and if he had died, you would've too, I couldn't just stand by and let that happen."

        "I'm grateful, but I don't ever want you to risk your life for me again." 

        "Liam, I don't understand why you're so upset," for a moment we just stand there, inches apart, staring at each other, tension crackling like electricity between us. Then, Liam grabs my face and kisses me - hard. I wrap my arms around the back of his neck, running my fingers through his short cropped blonde hair as I deepen the kiss. It should be impossible, but in that one kiss I can feel all of the pent-up emotions and unspoken words we've both carried with us for months. 

        The kiss seems to last forever, both of us lost in each other, in what we've been holding back from, but finally we break apart our chests heaving. Liam rests his forehead against mine and his eyes are soft now filled with adoration. 

       "If anything, ever happened to you y/n, I'd never forgive myself. Please don't scare me like that again."

        "Please don't give me a reason to." 

His lips are on mine again, gentler this time, less urgent as we both savor what we thought we'd lost forever. 

[smoooothoperator]

What Was I Made For?

08: Technical Difficulties

Charles Leclerc x driver!OC (Dafne Morelli)

childhood enemies, forced proximity, accidental pregnancy, enemies to lovers

Warnings: angst, two idiots fighting again

a/n: Hiii, so, I had a little writers block but it's completly fiiinee.... I hope you guys llike this chapter! This week maybe you won't have a new chapter because this weekend I have a competition, so if you want to suggest things or even sending me some love I would appreciate it so much!

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Tuscany was a place that brought me inner peace, childhood memories, a sense of safety.

It reminds me of the summers I spent with my grandma, sneaking into the kitchen to watch her make homemade pasta and pizza. It reminds me of being free and knowing that here I am my own person, that I can be myself and not a racing driver. 

When my grandma passed away, she left this house for my sisters and I, leaving my mother with other properties, knowing how much this house meant for us and how many memories this place holds. Here we had first kisses, first love… Every inch of this house has our signature with small details: a wall piano where I used to sit with my dad to play it, a pottery jar my sister Soleil made, a painting made by my sister. 

This house is my place, my safe space, my sanctuary. 

And yet there he is, stepping into my space when no one asked him to be here, turning my life upside down as always with his selfishness. 

“You have to leave” I said firmly, placing a protective hand over my belly.

“I want to talk, Dafne… please” he sighed, not tearing his eyes away from my swollen belly, making me turn around and walk towards the couch I occupied before he showed up.

“There's nothing to talk about, Charles” I sighed. “You've done enough. Leave me alone”

“I won't” he frowned, following me, making me hug myself. “I won't leave. Not this time-”

“Can't you see that the only thing you do is ruining my life?” I snapped, turning around to face him. “Look at what you have done! This is your fault!”

“I know!” he exclaimed, making me clench my jaw. “I know! And I'm so sorry!”

“Saying sorry won't fix this” I frowned, pointing at my belly. “Saying sorry won't make me have my career back. Saying sorry won't make me hate you less”

He clenched his jaw, but never looked away. He stayed where he was, looking at me all the time, following me with his eyes.

“I'm not leaving until you hear me” he frowned, making me groan while I sat on the chair.

“You think you can just show up here and try to be in my life after everything you did? After the panic attacks, the harassment, the constant media hounding?” I frowned. “You made me lose a man I really wanted to be with. Sebastian is more man than you, he tried to put back the broken pieces of my heart after the disaster you made. And then I had to see his heart breaker when I told him that this baby wasn't his but yours. You have an idea of how much that hurts?”

His eyes filled with regret as he clenched his jaw, but I couldn't let myself feel sorry for him. I have to be strong. For me. And for this baby.

“I know I've made mistakes” he sighed, and before he talked again he took a few deep breaths closing his eyes. “But I'm here to make things right. I came to talk things and fix this”

“You can't fix this” I said, pointing between us, fighting the tears. “You can't just show up and expect things to be okay. It's too late”

“Please Dafne…” he begged, taking a few steps closer. “I'm not asking for forgiveness right now, I just… Just give me the chance to be here, for you. For our baby”

“Our baby” I repeated bitterly. “This isn't about you, Charles! The world doesn't turn around you! This time is about me and what I need. And what I need right now is to have you away from me”

He stayed silent, with his eyes moving from my belly to my eyes. For a moment, I thought he really was going to leave. I saw him close his eyes slowly and take a deep breath, I saw that tic he has in his jaw whenever he's nervous. For a few seconds I felt relieved, thinking he was going to turn around and walk out of the backyard.

“I'm not leaving” he said, opening his eyes again. “I'm going to stay until you believe that I mean what I said. Until you decide to fix things and speak”

“You are so stubborn!” I exclaimed, frustrated. “Why can't you just respect my wishes?”

“Because I care about you, okay?” he exclaimed back, raising up his arms. “Why do you think I came here? I waited patiently until you came back to the factory, but you never came. I was going crazy because you weren't giving signals if you were alive or not. You didn't even make a statement about you retiring!”

“Do you think that's easy?” I mumbled. “Why do you think I came here? Why do you think I didn't say anything? Because this is hard for me, Charles! You have an idea how embarrassing it is for me to say you can't race anymore because you are going to be a mother? Do yu have an idea of how many times I had to answer to multiple people that I wanted to focus on racing when they asked me about my future plans, about making a family?”

“I…” he sighed.

“You have it easy” I said pointing at him with my hand. “You can keep racing, you can have as many kids as you want, after all you won't have to carry them for nine months. But I have to carry this baby, Charles. I can't race anymore, my body won't be the same”

“And I'm sorry for that, it's my fault” he sighed.

“Yes, it is” I scoffed. “If there's one to blame here it's you. I did nothing wrong. Just because you decided to not use a condom and be drunk”

“You were drunk too” he tried to attack back, but he stopped looking at the floor. 

I stood up and turned around and hugged myself, looking at the sunset and taking a deep breath.

“You can stay the night” I said. “But I want you out of here before I wake up”

“Dafne-”

“No” I stopped him. “Right now you only bring me pain. If you want to fix things, go back in time and go to your hotel room instead of mine”

Laying in bed, now more than ever, only brought memories.

The room that always has been mine changed all over the years. My grandma inherited this house from her father, who was something like the lord of the land. It's a big house, and when my mother had Erica and then me, she decided that she wanted to give us a room for ourselves, making my mother know that this building was also ours.

My room was decorated the moment my mother knew she was pregnant with me, and it started to get shape as I was getting older. The bed changed a few times, the shelves were full of books and plants, the wardrobe had summer clothes, the walls were filled with pictures of all the places I had been in my life. 

This room it's my sanctuary more than the house itself.

And knowing that Charles is at the other side of the door, as many other times, makes me want to stay here safe.

I heard him walking around the house like he owned it. After all, he spent many summers here, he knows where the things are here. I heard him walk in the kitchen downstairs, making something for dinner. I heard him sneeze and yawn.

He really won't leave.

I sat on the bed, rubbing my belly softly while looking out the window, taking deep breaths when I felt my cat walking towards me.

“What should I do?” I whispered, looking at my cat.

The day I found out I was pregnant wasn't the best day of my life. I had a crash that made me fall unconscious, I pushed away a man I knew I could fall in love with and be with him, I disappointed my parents.

I sighed, rubbing my belly softly, something I found myself doing more than I wanted. And somehow, I liked feeling it. I liked feeling that I was growing a human in me, it made me feel stronger than ever. If only this baby was from the man I love…

The door opened slowly, making me turn my head towards him. He had a hand on the handle and the other on the door frame, looking at me, watching how I had my sweater raised up so I could feel the skin of my stomach.

“Eh… I made dinner” he said, with his eyes fixed on me.

“Good for you. What do you want, pats on your back? A trophy?” I answered sarcastically.

“I want you to eat dinner” he frowned. 

“No, thank you. I won't eat something you made” I scoffed. “And I'm not hungry”

“Oh my God, can you stop?” he frowned. “I just want to apologize, make things right! And you make it very hard for me!”

“So? I think I made it pretty clear that I don't want to have you here” I frowned. 

“And what are you going to do, raise that kid alone? It's mine too, I have every right to be here” he groaned. 

“But I don't want you here!” I exclaimed. “I don't want to see you. I don't want to remember every second of the day that you are the father of this baby, that you are the one that made this!”

“Well, I'm sorry! Accidents happen!” he exclaimed, raising his arms.

“Exactly” I groaned. “This is an accident. But who will be the one that won't be damaged? You. I want you out of my life”

He clenched his jaw and looked at me, shaking his head. I just want him to leave me, is it that hard?

“You can't push everyone away, Dafne” he sighed. “You did that with Sebastian. And you always did it with me. I think it's time for us to act like adults”

“Get out of my room”

“Fine. But I won't leave this house until we talk” he said before closing my door.

“Asshole!” I screamed, grabbing a pillow and throwing it to the door. “I hate you!”

“Well, I don't!” 

What?

I frowned looking at the door, hugging my stomach softly. 

What did he say?

“Whatever” I groaned, turning around on the bed and laying on my side, with my back facing the door. “Your dad is not good, you won't like him”

I swallowed thickly, looking out of the window and drawing circles on my belly with my nails. I'm hungry, the baby is hungry, but I won't give him the satisfaction of eating whatever he made, not even sharing the same room with him.

Charles might have been the first love of my life. But that was a stupid, childish and innocent crush. 

My stomach growled in the middle of the night, making me groan and rub it softly. 

I'm hungry.

I sighed, sitting on the edge of the bed, rubbing my eyes while I put warm socks on my feet. I got up and wrapped my shoulders with a blanket, taking a deep breath before walking out of my room.

I expected the house to be cold, like always. But it was warm. Maybe he fired the fireplace and let it die before he went to sleep.

I went downstairs and sighed, wrapping the blanket tighter around me. The stairs were cold against my covered feet, making me shiver softly.

When I reached the last step I frowned, watching him. He was on the couch, an uncomfortable couch, hugging himself and with his head on a pillow. 

“Idiot” I whisper, looking at him.

He could have gone to the room he shed to sleep in with his brothers whenever they came. But he stayed here, for what? Waiting for me to come? 

I shook my head and walked towards the kitchen, sighing when I saw a plate on the counter. I sat on the chair and looked at it, biting my lip when I saw a sandwich on it. 

And not a simple sandwich. My favorite sandwich. 

“How the hell…” I frowned, turning around and looking at him.

How does he know that my favorite sandwich is the one that has tuna with mayo and ketchup? How? 

I sighed, eating it and groaning when I swallowed it. God, it's so good. 

“Is it good?”

I gasped softly, flinching. He's awake.

“Why are you sleeping on the couch? You have a room” I said, not turning.

“Just in case you walked downstairs” he sighed. “I know you, Dafne…”

“You know nothing about me, Leclerc” I frowned. 

“I know that you love eating” he said, standing in front of me at the other side of the table. “I know that for dinner you always need your comfort meal, and after that you always have cookies with milk. You have been doing that since we are little”

“Fuck off” I groaned, looking away.

“I know that you love peaches, but you are allergic to the peel” he continued. “That you love the chocolate of Cadbury, more specifically the Wispa bars”

I frown and look at him. How? How does he know that? Why? Who told him?

“I know you, Dafne” he repeated.

“No, Charles! You don't know me” I said tiredly. “If you did, none of the shit that is happening between us should have happened! If you did, you would understand why I hated every second of every fight we had. Why can't you accept that I want to be someone successful? Why can't you let me be and mind your own business?”

“And do you think it was easy for me?” he exclaimed. “Do you think it was easy for me watching you risk your life every time you got into your kart and now into the cars? I knew from the start that this sport was dangerous, and when I saw you for the first time in a kart I nearly had a heart attack!”

“You are being so selfish! This is my dream” I exclaimed, standing up.

“And I tried, every time I could, to make sure you left it” he said. “I tried to fight against you to make you hate it, to make you see that…”

“What? That I'm not made for this? That this is a sport for men?”

He swallowed thickly and looked away, walking towards the window of the kitchen, his back facing me.

“When Jules died I started to have nightmares nearly every night” he whispered. “Some nights his crash on Sakura was on repeat in my mind. And then other nights that crash was happening to you. Do you have an idea of what was going on in my mind when I realized that the one that was in the barriers in Abu Dhabi was you? Do you have an idea of how hard it was for me knowing that you were unconscious?”

“Charles” I frowned.

“Do you have an idea how hard I tried to keep you safe? Dafne, I-”

“No. Don't do this. You have no right. How dare you? Why are you like this? Why the hell you have been acting all our fucking life like a jerk with me, making me feel so little, and then you come here now to say what, that you love me?” I scoffed. 

But then he turned his head slowly, looking at me with those green eyes.

“No” I mumbled. “No. No, don't. Leave. Leave right now! I don't want to see you! Get the fuck out if my house!”

“Dafne…”

“No” I groaned. “You have no right”

He turned around to look at me but I just took a step back before he could reach me, walking out of the kitchen and going to the hall of the house to grab the key cars. 

If he doesn't want to leave, then I will.

Even if it's two in the morning.

taglist

@racinggirl @elisysd @alltoomaples @ssprayberrythings @rach3164 @yvonne-dump @deliciousfestsalad @janeh22 @hc-dutch @ninifee1802 @kakorrhaphiphobia @ssararuffoni @itsjustkhaos @scaramou @tapedeck-hearts @apollosfavkiddo @sltwins @glitterquadricorn @ladystardust05 @theseerbetweenus @vizzzashley @auawdo @leah-also-known-as-creatoronwp @leptitlu @green-thots @catarinemirandax

[darkwaveho]

Mini Burden

Summary: The aftermath of Natasha doing the unthinkable to her daughter.

Mob!Natasha Romanoff x reader, Mob!Natasha Romanoff x Oc!daughter

Warnings: hurt comfort, angst?, mentions of abuse, mentions of spanking, ptsd?, unpacked truama, fluff?

Previous part

series masterlist

It’s been a week and every day since Natasha has blown up your phone with calls and messages, you've ignored them all. Even blocked her number all together. That didn't stop her from using an unknown number. The last few days you had to shower Anastasia with a lot of tender care. It was a pretty traumatic experience for her. Not used to being on the receiving end of a harsh slap or harsh words can really break you down mentally no matter the age. This memory will forever be burned into your brain, the thoughts of you holding her while she asks why her mama hit her or why did her mama hate her. Her curious mind has questions, and she needs the answers, but the truthful answers are only ones Natasha can give.

Your mind drifts away to these thoughts while you're giving Anastasia a bath. It takes for a flick of warm water to your face for you to come back to reality. You gasp immediately from the contact as Anastasia laughs. “Alright, sweet pea time to get out now.” she immediately hits you with a small, adorable pout. “A few more minutes mommy, please?” she has been in here long enough usually you use the finger prune method for her bath time, and her tiny fingers are way past the pruning stage. You sigh, not really seeing the herm in a few more minutes but you're exhausted. You've been taking Anastasia to school from this hotel, getting her ready, making dinner, breakfast, and lunch. It was a lot on you to do with your mind being elsewhere.

Not only has Natasha been bugging you Yelena has as well, she didn't take up for Natasha, but she also did not fully side with you, she didn't agree with what Natasha did, but she also thinks that you're overreacting for a small pop on the butt. You can't believe you are the only one with sense in this situation in the entire family dynamic. A knock at the door pulls you back out of your mind; you turn back to Anastasia as she waits for your response to her question that you never answered.

“A few more minutes and you’re out princess, I don't want my baby all pruned forever.” you don't shut the bathroom door as you leave out of your room just in case something happens, you're able to be alert and quick. As you make your way to the hotel room door you pause. Contemplating what you were going to do next. You didn't want to cause a scene, but you also don't want to deal with this. Through the peephole you see Natasha standing on the other side waiting patiently for you to open the door. God she can never take a hint and just let things play out, she can never just allow you space and for you to come back on your own after an argument or misunderstanding. Reluctantly you open the door, the immediate change in Natasha's demeanor shows. She’s attempted to straighten up her posture to look more confident, but you see through it. Just taking one look at her you know she’s not her usual self.

“Hey.” Natasha releases a small breath, a relief of seeing your face even if it wasn’t being reciprocated by you. It doesn’t make sense to ask how she found you, you know how. You’d never be able to fully slip away from her no matter how hard you try. You don’t answer her, you simply stare back into her waiting for her to get to the point. Waiting to hear her excuses, apologies, or if she’d spew out more harmful nonsense like she did a few days ago. She looks tired, determined and broken behind her eyes. It’s clear to her that you don’t want to speak to her yet, if at all. So, she gets to the point of her being here.

“I would like to speak with Ana.” her initial response shocks you, she isn't even attempting to coax you into forgiving her first she’s direct about her mission tonight. She's here to fix things with Anastasia first. She’s asking, not demanding. Her ego and her power trip must’ve worn off within those three days of an empty house. you're still not sure about her request. The aftermath of everything took a huge toll on Anastasia. You're not sure how she’ll react to Natasha, if she wanted to see her or if she even felt safe enough to be near her own mother again. Natasha can see you pondering on it; she knows the word ‘no’ is right at the tip of your tongue. So, she does the one thing that she knows will get you to soften up. “Please.”

I don’t think that would be a good idea.” Shake your head and cross your arms as a protective response, this might be too soon of a conversation to have.

“Look I know I said some shitty things to you and about the way you parent. I’m sorry. I’m sorry for questioning your methods and putting blame on you because I didn’t know what to do in that situation or how to handle it.” Your silence is deafening to her. The desperation is real and slowly releasing from her body. “Y/n.” She searches for your eyes. She wants your approval, she needs it. “I just want to talk to her. To see her.”

A heartfelt and genuine apology you can count on one hand how many times you’ve received an apology like that from her. This was different, she struck her daughter. She frightened her and you as well. The moment of contemplation is nearly over. The final judgment is about to come out of your mouth, but warm, sweaty hands take hold in yours but between lies a crumpled texture. When you see the image in your hand the breath you release is involuntary. The painful memories are all coming back. You never wanted to see them again, hell you never wanted to take those photos of her in the first place. Never in a million years did you think that she would open the file. She’s been so good at running away or compartmentalizing her trauma.

It also pains you that she went through this trauma again alone. You want to say more you want to be there for her but you’re not sure if this is the right timing. This is bringing a whole new baggage into Anastasia’s world. A world where someone hurt her mama, a world where not only would she visually see it in her mind but physically on an old Polaroid picture. You can only shake your head hoping to rid yourself of those thoughts.

You clear your throat trying to remain firm on your stance but the sight in front of you makes it hard. Natasha stands in front of you with vulnerable eyes and you’ve noticed the subtle twitch of her fingers the moment you opened the door, all signs of her nervousness and anxiety. “Please.” She pushes again with that word. She’s trying hard not to break down right now; she'll save it for when she’s back home alone drowning in her own darkness. She relieved her past trauma alone in that house for three days with no comfort. The reality of it is you don’t know the reaction your daughter will have. You step back, and from the looks of it Natasha expects you to open the door for her entrance however she’s clearly mistaken when the door slams in her face. She stands there with her mouth gaped and her mind racing with all the ways she could have said something better. How she could have had a better outcome. She snaps out of her own head when the door opens again, this time with more than enough room for entry. “Dramatic much?” She’s snarky as she walks into the room. “Very.” You’re dismissive with her words, she's here to make amends with her daughter, you on the other hand will not be so forgiving, that takes a proper conversation between you two. You swiftly turnaround ignoring the way Natsaha's gaze lingered on your body. “I don't want her seeing that photo.” you point towards Natasha's jacket pocket.

The rim of the polaroid sticking out of her pocket haunts you with memories of your own that you wish to have erased. Natasha takes that as relief, she’s stared at the photo enough the past few days to become sick from it. She wouldn’t want to bring more of her past trauma and dump it on Anastasia anymore than she already has. Natasha nods her head in agreement with you and the award silence and tension fills the room. You quickly find an excuse to exit from being under her gaze. A soft, vulnerable Natasha is a weakness that you fear you will never be able to truly resist. You nod towards the door behind you. “She’s just finishing up her bath.” Natasha nods in understanding knowing how hard it is to get Ana out of the bath sometimes. Natasha grins at the thought but still awkwardly looks around the luxury hotel room doing anything to avoid your gaze. She feels like a guilty puppy right now. “You don’t have to stand, you know.”

“I’m fine.”

“You need to relax, you’re fidgeting Natasha.” She looks down at her fingers and instantly stalls her movements. She hadn’t realized she was doing that. “I’ll be back, sit down Nat.” You nod towards the sofa and leave her with a look that was not up for debate. Natasha sits down and thinks about what she wants to say to her daughter and most importantly how she wants to say it.

“Hey, monster.” Natasha's greeting receives no response, just a blank stare as if the young girl is looking at a stranger. Still Natasha pushes through, not letting the small change in communication deter her from making things right. Under any other circumstances Ana would’ve run into Natasha's arms practically knocking the air out of her but she still remains in her spot standing near you, she hasn't moved an inch or said a word. You and Natasha share a brief look between each other. Natasha clears her throat as she talks to Ana from her spot on the couch.

“Are you enjoying your time with mommy?” silence. You rub Ana's shoulders for comfort letting her know that everything is fine and that she doesn’t have to be guarded. That she's not in trouble. That her mama isn't angry with her. “Ana, mama is speaking to you.” She looks up at you and goes back to Natasha. “Yes.” Natasha briefly smiles before finding something else to continue the conversation. “What did you do today?” Natasha remains hopeful as she studies her daughter's face. She hasn't seen her in days, so she makes sure to take in every little detail. Her brown locks are coiled and damped from her bath. She’s in her favorite dinosaur pajamas that you and Natasha have to hide sometimes just so she can wear her other clothes and she always tops it off with her pink fluffy socks. The brief moment of analyzing is reminding Natasha that her actions can cause this to be a permanent arrangement where she only gets to see Ana on certain days. No longer under her presence 24/7.

“Mommy took me swimming in the big pool today.” Anastasia avoids all eye contact as she plays with her fingers, staring at a spot on the fancy rug. “That’s awesome, that means you've gotten better at your breathing techniques.” Natasha tries to keep the flow of conversation going but she's hit with another wall. An awkward tension. It's clear Ana won't go towards Natasha on her own and the hurt behind Natasha's eyes is too much to bear, so you come up with an excuse. You bend down slightly to gather Ana’s attention as you softly speak to her. “Hey, sweetie, I'm gonna run to the store for your dino nuggets, why don't you go sit with mama and tell her more about your hotel stay.” You gently nudge her forward as a sign to get closer to her mother but before you can even step away your movements are halted by a strong and tiny hand.

“Don’t go mommy.” She clutches on to your hand with a vice grip. The strength of your six-year-old was truly remarkable. The scene in front of Natasha breaks her heart. Her daughter was afraid of being left alone with her; she's scared of Natasha. It's taking everything in herself to not cry, to not stand up and leave, ultimately accepting this now tarnished mother daughter relationship. “It's going to be okay Ana; I won’t be long I promise.” That does nothing for the grip she has on you. She tugs your sleeve a little more silently begging for you to come closer to her. She looks back to Natasha on the couch and back to you as she lowly whispers in your ear.

“I don't want mama to get mad at me again.”

“I won’t, I’m not angry with you, Ana.” Natasha finally stands up wiping her sweaty hands on her slacks and moves closer to you two. The distance has become too much, almost suffocating to her. “I was wrong for doing that to you.” She swallows the harsh lump in her throat. She can't believe this is the conversation she is going to have with Ana. “I know that scared you, and I’m sorry.”

“Why did you do it?” The question packs a heavy punch that also requires a heavy answer that Natasha will have to censor for her daughter to understand and to not be afraid of the information. “I didn’t know how to stop you from having a tantrum. I’m still learning how to be a good mom for you. I try every day.” You want to cut in now, you want to erase what just came out of her mouth. You want to interrupt and tell her that she is a good mother despite her bumps on the road. Despite this incident or another incident, she’s always redeemed herself from her past mistakes and learned from them. You choose to remain silent and tell her these exact words in private right now it is about her and Ana. “You know my father didn’t put me in timeout or use a countdown.” she chuckles dryly as if this was something even remotely funny. It isn't. A clear coping mechanism to her being vulnerable and open.

“What did he do?” Anastasia's curiosity piques interest. You on the other hand weren't sure if this was appropriate for Ana's ears no matter how hard Natasha wanted her to understand where her head was in that store when she struck her. She can't bring herself to say it; a flash of memories invades her mind as she stares blankly into the open room. You definitely were not leaving this room now that Natasha has opened this door. You clear your throat, combing your fingers through Ana's hair as a gentle way to put focus on you instead.

“He hurt mama, he hurt her very badly and treated her terribly.” At this newfound information Anastasia frowns deeply. The thought of someone hurting Natasha saddens her. She doesn't even know Alexei, you and Natasha, both made it a point to never have her in the same room as him. She releases your hand and finally walks towards Natasha's frozen figure. Natasha suddenly snaps out of it at the feeling of her jacket sleeve being tugged. Looking down she’s met with familiarity and comfort. Her daughter's eyes.

“I’m sorry you were hurt, mama.” Natasha allows herself to release her tears, taking on the emotions that she’s kept bottled up for years to finally overflow. “I'm sorry for hurting you.” She pulls Anastasia into a hug and mumbles the words on the side of Ana's face as she deeply inhales and exhales. She pulls back from the embrace tucking the left side of Ana's hair behind her ear. She holds an unwavering eye contact with the six-year-old. “I will never hurt you like that again, okay?” Natasha nods her head for certainty, and Anastasia quickly follows her lead. “Okay.”

“I'm sorry too, mama.” Natasha looks at her curiously. “What are you talking about?” Anastasia looks back at your figure and looks back to Natasha. “It wasn't very nice to scream in the store and throw things on the floor.” Natasha chuckles, seemingly having forgotten all about how the situation started in the first place, but she’s proud of her daughter for being aware of her wrongdoing. “You're right it wasn't a very nice thing to do.” Anastasia holds her head down in shame, she knows what she did was wrong she's just so used to getting her way that day threw her off. Natasha would never shame her for it. She's just a child after all, a spoiled child but most importantly her child. She nudges her index finger under Ana's chin gently tilting it up for eye contact.

“Hey, it's alright. Thank you for apologizing.” Natasha plants soft and quick kisses across Ana's face as she starts a fit of giggles. You watch the interaction with a soft smile finally able to release a breath with the way things turned out. But the brief eye contact shared with Natasha is not giving the same type of vibes, she knows you will want a much more detailed discussion later on. You allow Natasha to stay longer, you still take the opportunity to get away from her for a moment.

Tell Ana that you were still going to get her nuggets from the store and now that she’s not constantly worried about Natasha spanking her again, she’s barely paying attention to you and your movements. Of course, Natasha tries to keep you in the room offering to just go out to eat or order room service instead. She’s missed you both, staying in an empty home alone does damage to the mind when you are not used to it. You quickly shot down the idea of having a family dinner, at least until everything is settled between you two as far as parenting goes.

When you return with grocery bags you head straight for the kitchen, placing everything in its place. Looking around the room you can tell the two of them made up for a week's worth of time lost. Toys are spread across the floor and snack wrappers are littered on the coffee table. Natasha has just finished reading Anastasia, her favorite bedtime story. “She’s out like a light.”

“That’s good, she had a long day.” You walk back into the kitchen area not wanting to be near her and remaining hopeful that her phone will ring so she can leave. She came here to make amends with Ana, and she's done that. Natasha can sense it, the tension is back, small talk and keeping the conversation on Ana won’t smooth things other with you. Natasha sighs sitting down at the counter.

“Can we talk now? Or are you going to keep acting like I'm a stranger?” She nervously nibbles on her bottom lip seemingly ready for whatever you have to throw her way. “I’m not sure there is anything to talk about Nat.” you keep your back turned to her, not in the mood to truly unpack everything that she said to you. “You said a lot at home, and you seemed like you meant every word.” you quickly turn around to face her, she's still seated at the counter, your words strike her heavily. She made you feel like you were the problem, like you were the one that needed to take a step back and evaluate the life decisions for Anastasia to be more than what the two of you experienced.

“Anything else you want to get off your chest about the way I parent or encourage you to parent our daughter. See how I said, "Our daughter, I wouldn't want you to feel like she’s only mine.” you send her the most ferocious glare she's ever seen coming from you. you scoff opening the fridge, grabbing a beer and quickly taking a sip. You don't even like drinking beer, it was too cheap for your liking. “I was not thinking clearly, I didn’t stop to think about how that would affect her or you.”

“Clearly not, but you still had those underlying feelings and I-” Natasha abruptly stands up from her seat and makes her way around the counter slowly edging towards you. She doesn't even want to know what you were about to finish your sentence with because that scares her, losing you has always been a fear of hers and since having Ana, losing her own little family scares her even more. She entraps you between the counter and her body, both of her hands on both sides of the marble countertop. “How do I know that you won't do it again? How do I know that the next time she has a melt down and I'm not there with you, that you won't spank her again or God forbid something worse?”

“Because I'm not him, I'm not a product of what he wanted me to be, not when it comes to her and not when it comes to being a mom.” Natasha's face contorted in pain; she's trying to hold back. There is a subtle strain to her voice that only you can pick up on. She reaches into her pocket; you have forgotten about it, but it's been burning a hole into her expensive fabrics since she left home. she brings the polaroid out of her pocket and stares at it repeating the same words she just said to you. “I’m not him.”

“I'm not him.”

“I’m not-” You bring her into a strong and warm embrace, dealing with that trauma alone it couldn't have been easy. “I know, you're not.” You rub up and down her back soothingly. Natasha doesn't cry like this often so you stand there holding her for as long as she needs you too. Eventually she pulls back but not too far away from you your lips finally meet in a soft and affectionate kiss. An eagerness and hunger starts to rise the longer the kiss continues, Natasha being away from you and being so vulnerable has caused her to be touched-starved. Before things get heated you pull away no matter how bad you wanted to keep going there was still something that needed to be addressed and understood. “I won’t allow Anastasia to be around that type of environment. We've worked so hard to shield her from it and give her better, I need you to remember that the next time you feel like you're losing control over how she handles her emotions.”

“You're right.” she wipes away her tears nodding in agreement with everything that you've said this entire time. What would happen the next time this happens? The look of pure fear her daughter had just by being in the same room as her hits her like a ton of bricks. Natasha never wants her daughter to be afraid of her. She needs to shake away that form of discipline out of her mind. It's been installed into her brain since a child.

“You have to unpack your shit, Nat.” you tuck a stray piece of hair behind her ear and as you pull away from her, she holds your hand against the side of her face. “I will, I promise.” She's avoided any form of therapy or comfort when dealing with her traumatic childhood and past. However, now it's gotten to the point where she can no longer avoid it, she needs to deal with this head on professionally but for now you'll hold her, for now you'll console her and applaud her for being brave enough to revisit the past trauma and admit her mistake. A change will be made for the better, she swears by it. She can deal with the world fearing her, she likes it, actually thrives off of other fear from just her presence but she draws the line at her daughter.

“I’ll start looking for a therapist tomorrow.”

[galesleftearring]

Thinking about how sadly realistic Gale's romance arc is right now, and how in different ways this applies to each of the BG3 companions but especially his:

His whole life he's been told or felt for some reason or another that what he has to offer isn't *quite* enough. That being himself is not going to earn him love and companionship, and that those are things that he has to earn in the first place. Even his cat and his mother, who he clearly adores, have not managed to dissuade him from this.

Then he falls for this goddess; she is quite literally everything to him. She is his muse, the literal magic running through his veins. He *worships* her. And she takes his love, because it's flattering or it's there or it's something to do, and gives him very little in return. She certainly doesn't love him. She just loves the control, and he doesn't know the difference.

And then this inevitably collapses, this love built in hubris and self depreciation, and he is left feeling hopeless. Who could love him as he is when nobody else has been able to? Willing to? Surely the problem must be *him.* Surely the things he wants--companionship, adoration, reciprocity--just aren't things he can have. Or maybe they just don't exist.

Then he meets the player, and he finds himself falling again into these desires and he's scared, he's so scared, because he's now living on borrowed time and as much as he wants to give himself to Tav and have them give themselves back, why would they? Why would this person be different from every other form of love he has ever known? And on top of it all, who would want to pledge themselves to a dying man?

Monogamy isn't for everyone and that's fine but it is for him. He wants to give of himself completely and for that to be reciprocated, he wants to love deeply and truly and completely. He wants to find home in another person and give that person a home within himself. He has to wait until he's sure that he's safe, or until he's sure he's unsafe enough that it doesn't matter--his last night, at least he can die knowing he *tried,* Godsdamnit, and if he wasn't enough in life then maybe he can be enough in death.

But Tav loves him. Simple and ordinary and selfless, or incredibly selfish--not wanting him to martyr himself if they could just keep him there with them, keep loving him. They have taken the broken pieces of this man and said that those broken pieces are enough. They don't want to fix him and don't want him to fix them. They have taken his hand in theirs and given him the love that they have. No more, no less. No grand illusion, just themselves.

But he can't quite believe it, because why would he be enough now if he never has been before? So he tries to earn Tav's love, tries to give them what he *could* be, what he wants to try to be for Tav, what he'll never stop trying to be if it earns Tav's love. Love is transactional. And Tav says no, you were already enough, and I want from you what you want from me. Companionship, togetherness, just us, just me, just you. How could he believe it? How could he truly fall into this steady rhythm of everyday love?

When someone is used to transactional love, how do they learn to accept unconditional love?

[del-stars]

mom, i'm tired, can i sleep at your house tonight? mom, is it alright if i stay for a year or two? mom, i'll be quiet, it would be just to sleep at night.

sirius is walburga's favorite child. when he is born, he is her favorite thing in the entire world. walburga holds the heir to the house of black, just hours old, who almost killed her as he tore his way out of her, and thinks mine, mine, mine. she spoils him with affection, never lets anyone hold him besides her. sirius is the one thing she has done right: she has made a son, and he is hers. she loves to dress him, loves to rock him to sleep, loves even to hear him cry because this thing needs her. she is needed. she is necessary. unconditionally, she is loved.

toddler sirius is obsessed with his mother-- hides in her skirts, screams every time she leaves the room. walburga absolutely revels in this attention. nothing has ever loved her this much before. he does whatever she wants, goes wherever she says, wears whatever she puts on him. he is infatuated with her, she can do no wrong in her eyes, and she wants him to stay this way. she cries at the signs of his aging: his growing hair, the teeth poking through his gums, the way he starts to waddle around the house. he can't grow. he can't change. walburga wants him to be small forever.

she hits him for the first time when he's four. because sirius has always done what he is told, he has always obeyed his mother, and then all of the sudden he's having fits and doesn't want to be touched. walburga doesn't understand, can't comprehend that he wasn't always going to be her little doll. for so long, he has still been a piece of her, and now he's developing his own mind and personality. he is becoming his own little person, and walburga feels herself fill with rage at the thought of that, because he is hers. he is a block of hardening clay, and walburga wants to be able to keep molding him forever.

and sirius tries. tries to make his mother happy, tries to play the part of a doll. he doesn't understand why his mother doesn't want to hold him anymore, why she looks at him with such abhorrence, sometimes. he wants to stop, knows that it's his fault she's acting this way, but he doesn't know how to. he doesn't know what he's doing wrong. he doesn't know what about himself to change.

and then sirius is sorted into gryffindor, and that's-- well, it's not right. it is not what he is supposed to have done. sirius, eleven and away from his mother for the first time, cries. he goes to dumbledore every day, begs to be put into slytherin. there's been a mistake. this isn't right. he listens to every howler he gets from his mother and wishes he could figure out what is wrong with him, so that he can fix it. he wants his mother to be happy. he wants to be loved again. much too late, he wants to be a piece of her again.

too late, because walburga begins to resent him, once he's sorted, once she realises he is an independent person that she is no longer able to control. he won't do everything she says, he will find people he loves more than her, he won't spend every waking moment with her. he's supposed to hate school, and yet he comes home babbling about how much fun he's had. sirius, who she made, who she nurtured, who is hers, enjoys his time away from his mother. walburga can tell, can see it in his eyes that he's done things she would disapprove of. sirius spends that entire summer after first year trying to be perfect, trying to win her affections back, but it is never enough.

sirius tries, and tries, and tries, and then he gives up. somewhere between his three missing fingernails and two broken ribs, he stops trying. his mother hates him, and he still doesn't quite know why. he really, really wishes this resignation makes it easier to leave. it doesn't. sirius packs his bags and lets them wait under his bed for several months. there are still days when he wants his mother.

they blame her, after he leaves. walburga black, who raised a rotten boy, who was never tough enough on him, who should have done better. they will never know how hard she tried, how desperately she tried to force him to change, how hard she cried when he left. even after he's gone, he is hers, hers, hers: her greatest love, her biggest failure.

[queers-gambit]

Alpine

prompt: in an effort to help your boyfriend with his trauma, you rescue a furry feline together - a white cat named, Alpine - who rescues you both in return.

pairing: Bucky Barnes x female!Widow!reader

fandom masterlist: Marvel

word count: 6.9k+

note: been seeing a lot of Alpine recently and got inspired.

second note: no, it's not comic / canon compliant so just have fun. author did some research but there's not a LOT written / known about Alpine, so, again, just have fun!

warnings: post Endgame, pre tfaws; cursing, Lord's name in vain, small angst, mostly hurt and comfort, Nick Fury calling reader a bitch playfully, Bucky's trauma responses, small spoilers, Dr. Raynor / therapy.

other works with Widow!reader and Bucky NOT necessary to read

read here: Damage Done

"Are you angry with me?"

"No."

"Disappointed? Annoyed? Frustrated?"

"No, doll."

"Then why won't you talk to me!?"

"Nothing to say."

You wiped a hand down your face, lifting it only to pinch the bridge of your nose. Your head shook to shake away your thoughts, sniffling emotion, sighing when you dropped your hand to slap against your thigh. "I'm really trying here, Bucky, I swear to you, I am. But I can't help if you don't talk to me," you softened your voice, beginning to understand this was a losing battle.

"I never said I needed help."

"You never have to ask me for help, Bucky, I just give it because I want to! Because I love you! That's part of being in a relationship!"

"Maybe I don't want it!" Your boyfriend snapped, rounding on you with unfiltered emotion in his eyes. The horrors swam in his baby blues, vivid memories he was unable to escape haunting him, terrorizing him; creating a shell of a man who could no longer hide his avid pain. "Did you ever think about that? Ever consider that I don't want your help because I don't need it?"

"Everyone needs help sometimes, Buck."

"No, not everyone - I'm not one of your pet projects, you don't get to treat me like a broken thing that needs fixed! I certainly don't need your pity - not yours."

"I don't pity you! Fuck's sake, Bucky, I love you and want to see you heal. I know you better than anyone - "

"You don't," he sneered, cutting you off. "You don't know me, not really, not as well as Steve - "

"Oh, for fuck's sake, Steve isn't here! He's not coming back!" You snapped, instantly regretting it when Bucky's eyes coated with glassy emotion he fought vehemently to keep down. "I-I'm sorry, that was - that was really mean of me and totally out of line," you apologized, both sighing deeply. "All right, look, let's just talk this out, please."

"There's nothing to say."

Your hip cocked, arms crossing, "She called me, you know."

"Who?"

"Dr. Raynor."

"Fuck's sake," he growled. "Why would she do that?"

"Maybe because today's session was, apparently, supposed to be a couples session. She thought I was refusing, called to say I was impeding on your progress and if I want to help you, I'd have to show up to your appointments. Which is really funny because you never told me about today, so I had no idea what the hell she was talking about - but that didn't stop her from tearing me a new asshole!"

He frowned, avoiding your eyes. "I didn't need a couples session. Not today, I just - I wanted today to focus on other shit."

"And I can respect that, but you're not doing yourself any favors by hiding shit from me. To get the best results from therapy, you have to actually do the work, and not just do what Dr. Raynor says, but actually listen to her advice - "

"I don't need you on my back about this, Raynor does that enough for you both," Bucky growled. "I do the fucking work - I'm the one in that room, I'm the one applying silly little rules to my life - "

"Obviously not if you didn't even tell me Raynor requested my attendance! You should've told me, and then you should've said you weren't ready! I would've respected that, but I can't do a Goddamn thing if you don't talk to me!"

His jaw flexed as he clenched his teeth, skin twitching and distinct muscles tightening. "Like I said, there's nothing to talk about," he practically spat, shaking his head at you before grabbing his sneakers from the closet.

You didn't mean to sound harsh, but demanded, "Where are you going? We're in the middle of a conversation."

"No, we're not, 'cause I'm ending it," he scoffed, sitting on the corner of your shared mattress, exchanged his shoes. "And I'm going for a run, need to clear my head."

You shook your head before leaving the bedroom, "Absolutely unbelievable."

Bucky left your shared apartment a few minutes later, somewhere you've only lived five months - the time it's been since Tony Stark, Iron Man, snapped the other half of living beings back into existence. He lost his life in return, the ultimate sacrifice, but he managed to reverse the damage Thanos created five years prior. Five months of living in this apartment without a lick of warmth, personal touch, or real sentiment; it being dreary, dark, and mostly empty. Hell, Bucky didn't even feel comfortable in bed, so he camped in the barren living room, giving visual to the way your relationship was beginning to fray, unravel, crack.

He didn't want anything personal in your apartment - thinking it was ridiculous to settle down after all you two have endured, witnessed, and fought for. You agreed to keep things at the bare minimum, only stocking what was necessary, knowing this was part of his healing process and didn't want to drum-up further anxiety. It made everything impersonal, boring, bland, and down right depressing - but it was a small accommodation you could provide your lover.

You hated the distance. Hated how alone Bucky felt after Steve. Hated how reclusive he became, the anger he projected. Hated how no matter what you did, you weren't enough - not this time. For years, you've loved him despite his flaws, his brainwashing, his trauma responses, but whatever he was enduring now was something you weren't equipped to handle. Didn't mean you weren't willing to try, but Bucky was the one pushing you away; thinking his demons were his sole responsibility, never letting you be the pillar that helped support him. God, you hated the distance.

You left the apartment, too. Nick Fury had employed you for creative, solo, high profile missions; wanting to utilize your Widow training, especially now that Natasha Romanoff was deceased. And you wanna know what? Bucky hadn't even asked about her, never tried to offer comfort, only quietly attending the funeral service you hosted with the remaining Avengers to give her a proper sendoff - despite there being no body. Bucky knew you and Nat were as thick as thieves, family without blood, two lost souls who leaned on each other in trying times; bonded by trauma, encouraged by resounding bravery, disciplined by strength. The fact that your boyfriend never even checked in with you after Nat's passing obviously hurt your feelings but you remained silent.

Again, to avoid generating more anxiety for Bucky.

You met the one-eyed man at a local, bustling coffee shop, finding the sight of the hardened, burly man eating a scone amusing. "Got you one of these," he nudged a dessert plate to your side of the table when you sat down with your desired coffee, "know you like 'em."

"Blueberries are my favorite," you half-smirked, regarding the moist muffin and sighing sadly. "All right, sir, what's on the docket?"

He stared at you for a moment, chewing thoughtfully before leaning back in his chair. "The fuck's going on with you?" He asked.

"What do you mean?"

"You look different today."

"Mh," you nodded, joking, "got a hair cut."

"No, it's your aura. Something bothering you, kid?"

"You do realize I'm a fully grown adult, right?"

Nick shrugged, "I don't see age."

"You don't - nobody sees age, Nick, Jesus."

He took a sip of his green tea. "There's still something bothering you. Not sure if you should go on this mission if you're wound tight."

"I'm just dealing with shit at home."

"Oh, right, the cyborg. How is the hundred year old psycho?"

"You you want me to stab out your other eye? 'Cause I fucking will," you threatened with a fork clenched in your grasp, perking your brows up your forehead. "Say that shit again, see what the fuck I do, Nick, I absolutely dare you."

He chuckled, hands held in defense, "Sorry, sorry, that was uncalled for. What's wrong with Sergeant Barnes?"

You shrugged, "It's complicated."

"Bitch, aliens opening a wormhole in space and time to invade Earth is complicated - relationships aren't. Try me."

After an amused chuckle, you told him, "He's struggling right now. You know? After everything, it's been a lot for him and now that things are relatively back to normal, he's having a hard time trying to assimilate himself back into the populace. You know, learning to live in this day and age - a man out of time, outside his comfort zone, forced to adjust himself after living as a weapon of mass destruction for so long. Add in the fact that his best friend passed, marking another forceful adjustment he's unprepared for..."

"Hm," Nick nodded, "heard he's got a full pardon."

"He does."

"Which has a contingency he's gotta go to therapy, right? Part of rejoining society?"

You nodded, "Right, again."

"So he's in therapy and still struggling?"

"It's not like there's an on-off switch, Nick, therapy takes time and dedication. I just don't think he feels at peace, calm, in control - like he deserves any of this; the pardon especially. Think the stress, fear, and confusion is eating at him."

"Well, he's got you."

"I'm not his mother."

"No, you're his girlfriend, and it's a girlfriend's responsibility to support him, ain't it? Help him through this?"

"I can only do so much, Nick," you scoffed, "I'm just one person and he's a stubborn jackass - he just pushes me away. I'm sure I don't help the situation by accepting your contracts."

Fury considered your words for a long moment, then asked, "You said he's lonely?"

"Wouldn't you? Given his situation? He won't say, but I know losing Steve caused a part of him die."

Nick shrugged, "So get him a dog."

You never wouldn't guessed those words could ever pass Nick Fury's lips, head cocking, eyes narrowing, arms crossed over your chest. "I'm sorry, do what now?"

"It's obvious, ain't it? Dude needs company when you're gone, a sense of purpose, to feel like there was something - or someone - depending on him. Might help whatever limbo he's lingering in."

"A dog?"

"A dog. He can take it for walks or whatever."

You considered his recommendation, asking again, "A dog?"

"Do we need to get your hearing checked again? You lose the last functionality of your ears? Yes, a dog."

"I don't know..."

"It's just a suggestion, might promote his peace, help him process grief and guilt. Telling you, a dog would do him good. Now," he took another sip of tea, "onto business."

"You give me whiplash," you chuckled. "What's this job?"

"Simple and easy," he pulled up a tablet from the chair beside him, tapping it three times and handing it to you.

"None of your jobs are simple or easy, Nicky-Nick."

"I told you, don't call me that. Look, I just need you in London to investigate a string of potential terrorist activity. Just some recon, you won't be gone more than a few days - if you behave and stay on task."

You scanned the document, "When do I ever do that?" He chuckled briefly, you wondering, "Flagsmashers? Jesus, what a name. C'mon, you can't be serious. These guys are just radicals - you know, trying to vouch for those displaced after the Blip. It's actually kinda endearing, I mean, they're trying to give a microphone to those without a voice."

"They're escalating - too quickly," Fury informed. "They haven't raised any international flags yet, but something ain't right about them. I just need you as eyes and ears, maybe report if you think they're worth the worry."

Little did you know, in only about a month, you would join forces with Bucky and Sam Wilson - The Falcon - to dismantle the organization.

"When do I leave?"

"Tuesday would be ideal. But I can push it to Friday if you wanna go get that dog."

Your laughter was endearing, handing the tablet back over.

Bucky liked holding hands, though, he often wouldn't ever voice it. It made him feel tethered, anchored to reality; instilling a sense of pride to have such a gorgeous lady - such as yourself - at his side. However, the part he liked most, was being reminded he wasn't alone; even when on crowded, overpopulated streets, he didn't have to be afraid because with his hand in yours, he looked just like everyone else. You protected him even without intending to or without even knowing what you were doing.

"I'm sorry about yesterday," he sighed, people on the street sidestepping and avoiding running into you two. "I was upset, stressed out, you know how I get after seeing Raynor."

"It's okay, baby," you assured, ever the patient, loyal, and supportive girlfriend he needed. "I'm not holding it against you, but just promise me, when you're ready, you'll tell me."

He nodded, "I will - I mean, I promise." You hummed and pet his bicep with your other hand, giving his arm a hug. "Now are you gonna tell me where we're going?"

"I told you, it's a surprise."

He was ready to reply when a small commotion echoed from the alley you were passing, Bucky coming to a jarring halt that yanked on your arm, swinging you around. You were ready to ask what was happening when you clocked one of Bucky's "friends", an older man named Yori Nakajima, arguing with one of his neighbors.

"Hey, hey, Yori," Bucky intervened, you watching from the mouth of the alley, "woah, hey, what's going on?"

You couldn't hear whatever Yori was saying, but Bucky turned to the other man and growled something at him that made the neighbor scurry off. He glared at you, lip curled in a sneer, disappearing amongst patrons of the crowded sidewalk. You frowned and approached Yori and Bucky, your boyfriend still trying to calm his friend - well, 'friend' was a very generous term. See, Yori was the father of a young man that died by the hand of the Winter Soldier, being a name on Bucky's list he needed to make amends with.

However, when you took your place beside Bucky, Yori was waving you both off and shuffling down the alley, towards one of his apartment building's doors. "What was that all about?" You asked softly, taking note of the disgruntled expression your boyfriend usually wore these days.

"Just," he sighed, shaking his head, "Yori's upset with some of his neighbors - thinks they're encroaching on being disrespectful."

"When doesn't he?" Bucky sighed, you wondering softly, "You think you're ever gonna feel ready to tell him?"

"I'm working on it," he sighed sadly. "All right, c'mon - "

You both paused with furrowed brows when there came a series of shrill meows from under a couple of soggy, cardboard boxes beside a dumpster. "Did you hear that?" You asked.

"Uh-huh."

Another elongated meow was heard, Bucky curiously approach the discarded trash coated in sewage sludge. He slowly squatted, you approaching his shoulder when another meow cried out. Now, normally, you'd never investigate animal noises out of fear they were feral and carrying disease, but something just felt sad about what you heard - apparently, to Bucky, too. Gingerly, he reached out and lifted a piece of dripping cardboard, seeing a bundle moving under the next piece. He moved that one, too.

"Oh, my God!" You cooed when a tiny kitten was revealed. White fur was stained with dirt, sludge, and other nasty juices; nose pink, eyes a piercing, clear blue with brownish tear stains rimming them. The kitten mewed in greeting, pacing a tight circle before trying to back up in the brick wall; hunching its back and hissing slightly when you lowered yourself into a squat beside Bucky. "Baby, it's all alone, should we help?" You pouted.

"I don't think it wants our help, doll," he sighed. "It looks scared of us. Bet the mother's around somewhere, be a shame to move it if she's coming back."

"It looks too skinny, maybe it's alone?"

"Or maybe it's not," Buck countered. "C'mon, sugar, we can't take it."

After a bit of back and forth, you finally relented and had to walk away. You frowned for at least two blocks, but upon your halt at a crosswalk, you were greeted by another shrieking meow. Whipping around, you and Buck both looked down to discover the wee little kitten had followed you and was practically yelling for your attention. You grinned.

"Well, now we really have to help it," you told Bucky.

"How?"

"We take it to a shelter," you answered, shrugging, "good thing I know where one is."

"What's it doing?" Bucky asked nervously, the kitten dancing around your legs; brushing up against you both, meowing the whole time.

"I think she wants you to pick her up," you smirked.

He sighed and stooped to scoop the little creature in hand, regarding it carefully; weighing it, checking paws and other vulnerable spots. Bucky muttered, "All right, yeah, fine, let's take him to a shelter. Little beast needs some food it feels like, definitely a flea bath and some fresh water."

"You big softie."

"Lead the way to the shelter, princess, c'mon," he ignored your jab, tucking the kitten into his chest protectively. "He feels fragile," Bucky worried, "maybe you should carry him, I might crush him."

"You've got the little babe, Buck," you assured, "you're not gonna hurt him - I mean, if it's even a him."

"By the attitude, could be a girl," he joked, making your heart lighten. He'd been in such a funk that you missed his teasing, soft words; the little jokes he cracked, his smile - God, you missed seeing his smile. During your time on the run after DC, while seeking refuge in Bucharest for a couple years, you grew accustomed to seeing his radiant smile; remembering how easily he offered it when just the two of you. For a moment, you considered how your relationship was no longer just you and Bucky - but his trauma, too.

Arriving at the shelter, it was like an assault on the senses. Dogs were heard barking from the kennels, the pungent smell of urine and wood chips smacking you in the face, and a sort of humidity lingering in the air - a sharp contrast to the crisp outside.

"Hi," you greeted the receptionist, offering a kind smile.

"Hi, there. How can I help you two?" The man with long hair asked.

"Well, uh, two things," you explained, "one: we'd like to tour your kennels, we're interested in adopting a dog - "

"We are?" Bucky gaped.

" - and two: we found this little fella in an alley," you pointed to the kitten curled protectively against Bucky's warmth. "We wanted to make sure he was okay, maybe leave him here for adoption?"

"Oh," Man Bun blinked, regarding both Bucky and the kitten, "wow, uh, yeah, that's really nice of you guys, rescuing the little guy. You know, since everyone came back few months ago, there's be an influx of strays. A lot of people gave up their animals when their loved ones came back."

"Well, that's super fucked up," your eyes rolled.

"Tell me about it," he sighed. "Look, I'd love to help you guys out, so, tell you what. I can let you back in the kennels - no problem! Help match you to your new companion, but, uh... I don't think I can help you with the cat. You see, we, uh, we've had to start euthanizing the overflow animals or the ones who don't get adopted in a timeframe. We're at our max capacity, so... If you wanna leave him here, uh, I can't promise he'll have a place."

"You'd put him down?" Bucky growled.

"It's not what we want to do," Man Bun swiftly explained, "but it's just necessary - we don't have the room or resources to take him."

"Do you know of any no-kill shelters? Maybe one that has room?" You asked, feeling Bucky's disgust rolling off him in waves.

"Not in the area," Man Bun frowned. "Honestly? I think the closest no-kill shelter's in Maryland. Maybe Virginia?"

"Jesus," you frowned, looking at Bucky.

"Look, my best advice?" Man Bun offered, "Take the little tike home, clean him up, and call around to other shelters to see if they have space. But if you intend to adopt a dog, maybe bringing back a kitten isn't the best timing. If you give him up to us, he'll probably be sent directly to overflow..."

"We'll take him home," Bucky instantly decided, shocking you.

"We will?" You asked softly, lips curling in a small smile.

"Why not?" He sighed.

"I would've thought you'd be more of a dog person..."

"I'm not an animal person, but we're not leaving this little guy here just for him to be euthanized. We can handle him for a few days, you know, until we find a shelter with room."

"I think that's a great idea," you grinned.

"But was this your plan? For us to adopt a dog?"

"Well, yeah..."

"Why?"

You shrugged, "Just thought a dog would be nice company when I'm outta town for work. You know, could go on walks or runs together, you'd have someone looking out for you, maybe a dog would help with your stress levels?"

He eyed you for a moment, sighing, "I appreciate that, doll. Maybe another time, though? At least let us find somewhere or someone to take this guy."

The kitten gave a prolonged squeak - seemingly agreeing. "All right, noisy, we hear you," you chuckled, giving the kitten's head a scratch. You asked Man Bun, "Do you guys have the means to check him over, you know, before we go home? Make sure he's not injured or something?"

"Yeah," he nodded, "let me go get one of the technicians."

After the tech's exam, you were given the paperwork from that day's visit, the name, number, and address of a recommended vet, and before you knew it, found yourselves at the local pet store. You would've been ashamed by the absurd amount of money you spent, but Bucky rationalized the need because you weren't sure how long your new companion would stay with you. So, you ransacked the store, buying a sizable litter box, 50 pounds of actual litter, a bag of kibble, case of wet food, several different treats, a balm for the baby's feet, too many toys and stimulation activities, a carrying case in the event of transporting the kitten, and a tiny collar - if you decided to keep the little noise machine.

The sight of Bucky with the little fuzz ball warmed your heart. He still seemed hesitant and stiff, as if afraid to hurt the kitten, but he wasn't so tense anymore. However, he handed the pet over for you to hold while he carried the supplies back home; biceps bulging to support the weight. In that moment, walking familiar streets with his arms full of cat supplies, he questioned how he got here - to feel all domestic and out-of-place. He was Bucky Barnes - a Sargent in the Army, prolific hitman, something of an Avenger now. He didn't adopt cats and buy toys!

However, watching you talk to the kitten softly, he smiled - something small at first that grew like a germinating seed to split his face. You seemed so... Bright, excited, rejuvenated, even. He knew the past five months since the Blip had been rough on you, what with losing Natasha, fighting Thanos and his army of aliens, then ricocheting into 'normal life' only to deal with his emotional baggage. Watching you walk down the street with a fuzzy white ball of energy, pointing out different things, cooing and narrating the city to the kitten as if he could understand was refreshing after seemingly seeing nothing but a frown on your lips recently.

To Bucky, as long as you were happy, he was happy - and it seemed you were very content with your new little buddy. So, he was happy with your new little buddy and figured a dose of domestic life wasn't the end of the world. In fact, he actually felt... Intrigued by the newest addition to your little family.

When you returned home, it was to an empty apartment. Bucky dropped the supplies in the living room, hands to his hips, looking around, "Well, uh... At least there's room to run around, right?"

You nodded, "And no risk of ruined furniture."

"Yeah," he sighed, watching you set the kitten down. "All right, pip squeak. C'mon, lemme give you the tour - pay attention. So, in here," he moved around the wall, kitten following and listening intently, labeling, "this is the kitchen, this is where you'll get your meals - and no, you're not allowed on the counters." He pointed a warning finger, "Don't let me catch you up there or there's gonna be hell to pay. I don't wanna find your hair in my morning bagel."

"Buck, you don't eat breakfast."

"Fine, then I don't wanna hear my girl found hair in her bagel."

The kitten mewed loudly, trotting to keep up as Bucky walked around the barren apartment - giving a literal tour. You unpacked the supplies, setting up a raised food bowl beside a full water bowl. You left the treats in an empty cupboard, the litter box ready to use in the bathroom, and tossed some toys around the open, empty living room floor. You meandered, stashing other supplies, hearing the scampering thuds of excited little feet.

When your head popped out of the kitchen, you grinned at what you saw. Bucky was sat on the floor, flicking a feathered stick over the hardwood floors for the kitten to race around and try to catch. The longer you watched, the more defenseless Bucky seemed, and dare you say it, he looked calm - maybe even happy. His eyes were locked on the animal's antics as if he didn't want to miss a single movement he made; small smile making him look younger and brighter.

You made a mental note to thank Nick Fury for his suggestion. Sure, he actually said to get a dog, but this kitten seemed to have the same effect.

"Hey, baby?" You called, hanging up your phone after calling the recommended vet. "So, uh... Listen, you know how I have to go outta town on Friday?"

"Yeah?" He glanced up, letting the kitten wrestle his booted foot.

"So, I managed to get a vet appointment but it's for Friday. Is that okay? Or do you want me to reschedule for when I'm back so we can go together?"

"Oh, uh, no, that's all right, sugar, keep the Friday slot. I can take him, it's not a big deal."

"You sure? I hate having to saddle you with this responsibility."

"I'm sure," he nodded, "I can take him, it's okay."

For the rest of the week, you had a front row viewing of an incredible bond being formed. The kitten liked you, you two had many moments together, but it was obvious the little guy adored Bucky. He was stuck to your boyfriend like Velcro, following him everywhere, shrieking for attention when Bucky was preoccupied, liked being held when he cooked, even tried to get in the shower with Bucky. They played together, Bucky's laugh warming the entire apartment; positively obsessed with one another, the little guy even sleeping between you and Bucky.

It was as if you both forgot to look for the kitten a permanent home, the lack of furniture providing wide space for play and entertainment. Bucky even got one of those cat trees, couple individual scratching posts, and a laser pointer that drove your furry friend up the wall. There was some unspoken rule about naming animals - where if you named them, they were yours officially. So, one evening over dinner, you proposed a few names, Bucky giving his opinion; but then you began to consider "theme" names. Because your little buddy was white, you mused over names like Noelle or Snow, but finally settled on Alpine after narrowly beating out Aspen.

The day you flew to London, you warned both Bucky and kitten to behave themselves. Later that night, while you were sat in a tinted SUV for surveillance, your phone rang with Bucky's contact. "Hey, baby, how's it going?" You answered, refocusing through your advanced camera lens to snap necessary photos.

"Good, yeah. Uh, how's London?"

"Pretty dreary, it's been raining all day. Hey, how was the vet appointment?"

'Oh, yeah, no, it was, uh, yeah, it was good. Gave Alpine a buncha shots, microchipped her, started her on antibiotics - "

"Did you say, 'her'?"

"Yeah, that was the other thing - turns out, Alpine's a girl."

You chuckled, "Well, I'll be damned. How're you feelin', Buck?"

"I'm... Okay."

"I'm sorry I'm not there," you sighed. "Nightmares again?"

"Yeah."

"Sleeping in the living room?"

"You know it."

"TV on?"

"Reminds me I'm not where I dreamt I am."

"Well, I'll be home in a few days."

"What's this mission?"

"Just a little recon, I'm only to observe. Nicky told me to keep an eye on some suspicious activity."

"Don't tell me you're sitting in a white van?"

"No, sir, it's a Rolls Royce this time," you chuckled.

True to your word, you were home by Tuesday night. The transatlantic flight was long and tedious; a storm creating steady turbulence, making it absolutely impossible to get any shut eye. When you landed, you made a beeline to the Starbucks and got the largest coffee possible with an added 2 shots of espresso before exiting the bustling airport. Outside, waiting at the curb, Nick Fury himself stood before a sleek and shiny car that probably cost more than a 4-year education at an American university.

He smirked, "Welcome back, kid."

"Nice of you to pick me up, Nicky-Nick."

"Don't call me that."

"Don't call me 'kid'."

"Get in the Goddamn car, I'm not having this argument again."

After storing your luggage, Nick drove you back home while listening to your mission report. You didn't think the Flagsmashers were extreme enough to warrant intervention, but all Nick heard was that now was the time to strike before there came the need, before a chance for escalation could occur. You left the tablet full of notes, observations, photos, and data with the one-eyed man, and before you fully departed the car, paused to lean in the open window.

"Hey, uh, I've been meaning to thank you."

"What for?" Nick asked, face hardened in a permanent look of disagreement. You never took it personally - Nick Fury having professional Resting Bitch Face (RBF).

"Your advice about getting Bucky a dog."

"No shit," he chuckled, "you actually got him a dog?"

"Uh, well, no..."

"What'd you get?" Nick asked in suspicion, watching your lips roll between your teeth to restrain your smile. "Ah, hell no! You didn't! A cat? A fucking cat?"

"I know you don't like them - "

"Bitch! One scratched out my eye!"

"But our cat didn't."

"Doesn't matter - fuck all them felines."

You laughed and slapped the metal door, "Well, thank you anyway for the idea of a companion animal. Bucky's a lot calmer it seems."

Nick Fury sighed, waving you off like a pesky insect. "I'll call you when I got another job. Have fun with the little demon."

"You talkin' about Bucky or Alpine?"

"The cat - wait, Alpine? The fuck kinda name is that?"

"You know, Alpine... Like the Alps?"

His head shook, "I know what fuckin' alpine is."

"Why don't you head off - looks like you're gonna give yourself a stroke. Didn't realize getting a kitten would stress you out this bad."

"Get out my Goddamn window and I can leave."

You grinned and dropped a wink, again, patting the car and stepping back onto the sidewalk. Nick peeled off, leaving you alone to shoulder your duffel bag and head inside your apartment building. When you got to your desired location, the door opened without the usual creak, Bucky obviously WD-40'ing the hinges. "Hello?" You called softly, hanging your keys on the little peg in the foyer, toeing out of your shoes, glancing around the empty apartment.

Ready to call out again, you actually almost choked on air when you inhaled but stopped abruptly. You pouted your bottom lip at the sight of Bucky sound asleep in his nest on the floor, TV's lighting flashing and creating shadows, giving clear sight of Alpine curled in a tight ball on Buck's chest. His flesh hand was raised to rest on his chest, keeping Alpine cuddled to his warmth.

Quickly, you pulled your phone from your back pocket, snapping an adorable picture of your boyfriend before silently tiptoeing away to dispose of your duffel and purse. You sent the photo to Bucky's phone, positive you were keeping the kitten. After a long, hot shower that washed the travel from your body, you changed into loungewear, pulled your hair back, then reentered the living room where you knelt at Bucky's side. In-sync, your presence made both Alpine and Bucky flinch awake - your boyfriend jerking away from your warmth as the kitten hopped off his chest.

You winced, "Oh, shit, I'm so sorry, baby, I didn't mean to wake you."

His head shook, "No, it's all right, doll, I wasn't sleeping."

"You were, don't deny it," you grinned, settling on the mound of blankets.

Bucky chuckled gently, "I tried to stay up for you. C'mere," his arm opened in invitation, smirking gently. You settled down and turned into his side, his arm now coiled around your form, constricting to pull you closer so his lips could plant on your forehead. "How was London? Your mission?"

"Easy peasy," you sighed, "nothing too strenuous or stressful. The most 'complicated' part of the whole thing was using a different car each day to avoid suspicion."

"Hmm... Who was the target?"

"Some radical group," you sighed, head resting on his pectoral. "How was it? Just you and Alpine?"

"It was pretty good, nothing to complain about. She's nice company."

As if understanding she was the topic of conversation, Alpine mewed several times in a row as she walked up the seam of your body pressed to Bucky's. She turned in two circles before settling down between you; your grin authentic as a manicured fingernail extended to scratch her head.

"Actually, sweetheart, I've been thinking..."

"Hmm? About what?" You mumbled, eyes drooping with each passing second.

"About how we should keep her - Alpine, we should keep Alpine."

"You're just figuring that out now?" You teased, sluggishly lifting your head to smirk at him. "I knew she was ours the moment you picked her up. It'll be nice having her around, don't you think? I know she's not a dog you can take on walks but with Alpine, you don't have to be alone."

He nodded, "I like that idea. She's a good cat."

"Check your phone in the morning."

"Why?"

"Mmmh, I sent you a picture, you'll see - but it's just confirmation that Alpines part of us now, part of our crew."

"Our family," Bucky agreed softly. He watched you resettle on his chest, spending the following couple hours in the glow of the TV, watching you and Alpine. Bucky's heart warmed to a degree he's never known, making the comparison of himself to Jim Carrey's, the Grinch - a movie you made him watch. Eventually, exhaustion outweighed his domestic thoughts; falling asleep with you safe in his arms and Alpine curled up between you.

"Well, this certainly is a surprise... I was beginning to think James made you up."

"Oh, please, nobody could make me up - I'm too complex, nobody's got that kinda imagination," you smirked, legs crossed, seated beside Bucky on a sofa; both facing his therapist.

"I'm glad you could finally join us - I've been asking James to bring you for a while now," Dr. Raynor's eyes darted between you and Bucky, making you feel as if she was seeing right into your soul. However, her tone was accusatory, as if scolding Bucky.

So, you swiftly defended, "Well, I'm happy to be here. Bucky's one of my top priorities, I'd do anything for him - including attending any of these silly mandated sessions. Which are bullshit, by the way, because he's not the Winter Soldier anymore so why is Bucky being crucified? Why is this being pinned on him when he technically didn't do anything? The Winter Soldier did."

"Well, healing often takes time and dedication, and must be done in a series of steps. That's how you see real progress. These sessions are a condition of his pardon - "

"I can't believe your government would even enforce these silly little rules considering Bucky's assistance. He fought against Thanos, he fought on our side, and by all means, helped restore what was lost. I just find it pretty dehumanizing to force him to jump through hoops. I mean, for Christ's sake, half the universe was snapped away, you'd think after that, there wouldn't be need for pardons or contingencies - or for holding onto grudges."

"This is simply how we keep order in a post-Blip society. Everything changed in those five years, it's necessary to keep balance amongst all worldly citizens."

You scoffed lightly, "Ever consider these sessions might be doing more harm than good?"

Raynor frowned, "Despite the Winter Soldier being decommissioned, James still has trauma to process and skeletons to clear out of the closet. Yes, the Winter Soldier is gone, but the man remains - and James needs to focus on healing that part of himself. Whatever he did as the Winter Soldier wasn't Bucky's doing, but he still remembers all he did, which creates a heavy toll on the mind. That's part of the reason these sessions are mandated - because the assassin might be gone, but the residual effects still linger."

You hummed, "Well, let's get into it, Doc."

"You know... I've heard a lot about you. James paints you in a very bright light, says your bark and bite are equally as vicious."

"Hm," you nodded, brows perked, "yet I don't know shit about you."

"Perfectly natural. Typically, most people don't gossip about their therapists. It's nice that you could join us for this session."

"Nice to be invited."

She clicked her pen and settled her pad securely on her lap, just staring at you and Bucky for a long moment. You were ready to snap at her when she opened her mouth, "So, I hear you adopted a cat?"

"We did," you confirmed.

"Alpine," Bucky supplied, body rigid with tension and nerves.

"Right... Alpine," Raynor nodded, leaning her elbow to an arm of her padded chair. "How did this cat come into your possession?"

"We rescued her from a dumpster," Bucky answered stiffly.

"Really?" Raynor perked both brows.

"She was under some pieces of cardboard, screamin' her li'l head off," You chuckled. "Though, I think it's safe to say she chose us, adopted us as caregivers."

"How's that?"

"She wouldn't let us pick her up and we were afraid to take her in case her mama was lingering around. Turns out, she followed us. We were at a crosswalk when she caught up, demanding we pick her up and take her home."

"Is that so?"

"I'd like to think so," you nodded. "We were already on our way to the shelter, so, we took her with us, got her checked out."

"Why were you heading to the shelter to begin with?"

"Oh, uh, to adopt a dog. I had a colleague recommend an emotional support animal - or a companionship animal - to help Bucky feel less alone."

Raynor made a note of something. "You work often?" She asked.

"Often enough that I feel guilty for leaving. Figured getting a dog would instill a sense of dependence, you know, help Bucky feel like there was someone depending on him. Help usher in comfort and stability, help keep him calm, focused, distracted. But Alpine does the same thing - no dog necessary, apparently."

Raynor nodded, her wrinkles dimpling as she frowned and wrote down another note. When her eyes lifted, so did her lips; a smirk on display as she praised, "I actually think that's a wonderful idea. You know, there's been a lot of research about soldiers with PTSD benefitting from an emotional support animal. You're right, they promote peace, stability, distraction - gives patrons a tangible purpose, taking care of another life not their own."

"For sure, again, anything to help," you agreed, holding Bucky's gloved hand he kept covered by leather - only worn in public.

"Although, I wonder, why get a pet? I ask because James speaks highly of you, credits you for keeping him stable and on-track. Do you feel as if she's not enough, James? Is that why you kept Alpine?"

"No," he answered instantly, "she's my best girl and will always be enough. Watch your mouth, Doc."

"But sometimes extra help is nice," you tacked on, tightening your hand in Bucky's. "But for what it's worth, Dr. Raynor, Bucky keeps me sane. I keep him balanced. We keep each other safe. Alpine's just an added bonus, a quiet menace to help quell the business of our brains."

Raynor smirked, "I must say, you surprise me, Miss."

"I'm no stranger to mental health. But as I said before, I just want to help." You looked up at Bucky, finsihing softly, "He deserves peace in this lifetime - and if a little ball of fur can help, sign me up..."

requesting rules and masterlist

Marvel masterlist

[darkficsyouneveraskedfor]

Dirty Work 15

Warnings: this fic will include dark content such as bullying, familial discord/abuse, and possible untagged elements. My warnings are not exhaustive, enter at your own risk.

This is a dark!fic and explicit. 18+ only. Your media consumption is your own responsibility. Warnings have been given. DO NOT PROCEED if these matters upset you.

Summary: You start a new gig and find one of your clients to be hard to please.

Characters: Loki

Note: I need this week to end.

As per usual, I humbly request your thoughts! Reblogs are always appreciated and welcomed, not only do I see them easier but it lets other people see my work. I will do my best to answer all I can. I’m trying to get better at keeping up so thanks everyone for staying with me.

Your feedback will help in this and future works (and WiPs, I haven’t forgotten those!)

I love you all immensely. Take care. 💖

The rest of your personal day is spent in the confines of your room. You hear your father below in a tantrum, working himself up as he blusters and stomps. Soon, the smell of cigarette smoke pervades the house. He's found his fix somehow.

You don't dare emerge. You hide behind a book you can't focus on as your eyes stray to the phone, over and over. You keep it off as you fear another miscue. You can already imagine Mr. Laufeyson isn't impressed by the disturbance.

Your sleep comes in shallow morsels. You awake to each creak and crack of the old house, the neighbours arguing through the wall, and the rustling of leaves outside the window. You surrender to your consciousness just as the sun comes up. You'll need to see what damage has been done before Leslie arrives.

The puzzle is overturned on the floor, the coffee table on its side. The wooden chair reserved for the nurse has a leg broken and the TV beams its blue screen around the room. You tidy up as best you can, putting the chair by the back door until you can figure out how to fix it.

The kitchen is more of a mess, cupboards open and a few dishes shattered across the tile. A jar of jam is smeared over the laminate counter top along with what you had left of the peanut butter reserved for your lunch. You sigh and toss the empty jars, wiping up the puddles of wasted food.

You brew a tea and sit on the front porch, paranoid that your father might rouse and come to taunt you some more. He's done it before, as if to spite your efforts. He trashes the place only to accuse you of being negligent. What did you ever do to make him hate you? Why does it seem like everyone you meet feels the same?

You finish the black breakfast blend and wash the cup. You creep upstairs to get dressed and wait on your bed until your bus is due. You flee with your work bag and a deep yawn you can't repress.

The commute is your rare chance at peace. You don't have to think as you look out the window and watch the amber headlights pass and the storefronts slowly flicker to life. The nicer houses rise as the streets turn suburban and fervent long swells in your chest. Why couldn't you live like this?

Why couldn't you be like those children running to get in the van with their schoolbags bouncing, their parents laughing at their excitement, or like the mother with her carriage, enjoying a lazy walk as the neighbourhood awakens?

Those things aren't for you. You shouldn't complain, someone always has it worse. You shouldn't pity yourself. Your mother died well before she was ever your age and your father is sick. You are healthy and you have a job. That's something, better than nothing.

You break the threshold of the Laufeyson estate, the gate whining and clanging shut. You hunch down and wind along the path, looking ahead of your feet and no further. You rub your eyes as you come to the back door and check the time. A bit ahead of schedule but he can hardly be unhappy about that.

You are careful in the low din of the house. It's deathly quiet as you leave your shoes on the mat and surpass the closet. As you near the kitchen, you hear a clink from within. You slow, padding quietly in an effort not to betray your presence. You keep against the wall as you resist the urge to peek inside.

"You like tea, no?" The voice wafts through, rippling through the still silence.

You cringe and clutch the straps of your bag. You lower your head and wet your lips. You inch towards the archway.

"Mr. Laufeyson, I don't mind tea," you answer.

"Very well," he takes down a second cup as the kettle boils softly.

"I've already had mine, but thank you, Mr. Laufeyson. I should get to work, the carpenter will be in today."

"You're welcome," he replies as he plucks out tea bags from a hexagonal tin and drops one in each mug. "You can stomach a second. I bought this tea in Tokyo a while back. I need to finish it before it goes stale."

You linger in the door. Is this some trick? Maybe it's pity? Had he really heard that pocket call? You hoped maybe he hadn't been able to hear past the fabric. You watch him as he puts the lid back on the tin. As usual, you can't read him.

What would he even think if he did hear? That you're even more pathetic than he believed?

"Come," he puts his hands on the counter with the undeniable demand.

You obey and cross to the other side of the counter. You teeter and look around awkwardly, not certain what to say or do. He drags his fingertips over the granite and leans weight onto them.

"Thank you for the t--"

"How was your day off--"

You both speak at the same time. You snap your mouth shut and give an apologetic flutter of your fingers. He seals his lips and hesitates, clearing his throat. 

"You said the carpenter is due," he redirects, "no doubt you'll have a busy day. Tomorrow, I want you to clear the schedule."

"Tomorrow? Yes, Mr. Laufeyson."

"Don't ask me why, you will know in due time."

"Understood," you take out the phone and make a note, your should hanging heavy on your elbow.

He waits. You don't say a word. The kettle pops and he turns to take it and pours the tea. He sets it back on the base and slides a mug closer.

"You're not curious?" He wonders.

"Like you said, I'll find out," you say, "thank you again."

"Five minutes for a good steep," he girds, "you will want the flavour to set."

"Yes, Mr. Laufeyson," you step closer as you pinch the handle and draw the cup closer.

"Mmm," he hums, rolling his shoulders back. "I had a question for you then." You look up and wait patiently, your eyelashes clinging with your fatigue, "was there some emergency yesterday?"

"Pardon?" You gulp.

"I saw that you called but couldn't make anything out," his cheek twitches, "but I wasn't sure if it was some mistake--"

"It was. Sorry--" you cover your mouth at your own abruptness, "it was an accident. I'm sorry."

"Ah," he nods as he considers you. Can he see through the lie? Does he even care?

"It won't happen again. I'm sorry to have bothered."

"Not bothered," he assures and takes the string of the tea bag, bobbing it up and down in the water, "I have other things to be bothered with, that's certain."

You cross your arms and sway, turning this way and that as you peer around. He didn't hear but you're still uneasy. He startles you as he moves smoothly around the counter. He approaches you and reaches to grasp the strap of your bag.

“Stay a while,” he insists as he tugs and you unfold your arms.

As he slides the strap down your arm, his other hand gently brushes your sleeve, just where the bruise smarts. The tender spot thrums and you wince, letting out a hiss. He hestitates as he places your bag on the counter.

His mouth opens and closes as if he can't think of what to say. You put your hand over the bruise and grimace.

“Did I–”

“No,” you interject, “ Thanks, that was heavy.”

“Ah, yes, well… it will take some time for the tea to cool.”

You shift, just a few inches away to face the counter again. He must be lying. He had to have heard everything yesterday, it's the only way to explain his behaviour. Somehow, you've managed to sink even lower, he must feel on top of the world.

🧹

Ronan arrives just after nine. You rush out to meet him, your tea only half-finished. As he shows you his plans for the repair, you do your best to answer his questions, telling him that some details will need to be approved by Mr. Laufeyson. 

You turn towards the house and see the curtain in one of the front windows ripple. You offer to show the carpenter to the gazebo but he insists he can find his own way. Before he can, the front door swings inward and Laufeyson emerges.

“Ah, you must be the builder,” he struts down the steps, “welcome.”

You're taken aback by Laufeyson’s demeanour. For his own family, he was never more than perturbed, but here he is, playing it up. You know for sure that he is, he's never sounded so… nice.

“Hi,” Ronan faces him, his bag in one hand as his other goes to his hip. He stands nonplussed as the host nears.

“Loki,” Laufeyson introduces himself as he offers his hand.

“Ronan,” the other man eyes his fingers before he accepts the gesture. There's tension in his tendons as he squeezes and shakes. “Fine house, you got.”

“A bit big for just me,” Laufeyson sighs as he's released and waves his hand at the facade behind him, “but I won't complain for it.”

“And you've got a wonderful house manager to deal with it all,” Ronan muses.

“Yes, I suppose,” he shrugs, “did you need a tour–”

“Got it,” Ronan interrupts, “I should start. Got a lot to do.”

“Of course, of course,” Laufeyson steps out of his way, “oh but there is this,’ he reaches into his jacket pocket, “the deposit.”

Ronan nods and takes the check with a swipe, “thanks.”

“I always pay for fine work,” Laufeyson intones with a certain lilt. You sense heat roiling between them but why, you can't guess.

“And I never deliver less,” Ronan folds the check with one hand and shoves it in a denim pocket, “I'll try not to make too much of a ruckus.”

They stare at each other as if in a wordless conversation. As the carpenter slowly steps past the resident, you find your voice.

“Thank you, Ronan,” you squeak after the man and he dips his hand, waving over his shoulder as he disappears down the path.

“Where did you find that man?” Laufeyson asks.

“Online? He had good reviews.”

“Mmm, you should've searched out a proper company, not some independent contractor.’

“Oh?” You frown.

“It's only… I've heard stories of swindlers,” he crosses his arms as he faces you completely.

“Sorry, I…”

“It is what it is. We shall see,” he dismisses your apology.

“Right, uh, I'll just… get back to work,” you turn towards the same path and Laufeyson's step echoes yours as he follows you swiftly.

“What are you doing? Where are you going?”

“Inside,” you utter dumbly.

“The door is that way,” he argues.

“Well, uh…” you stop and pivot around as he stumbles to a halt, “sure, I guess… it's a habit.”

“You may go through the front, you do much more than clean now, don't you, maid?”

You're not sure how to take the epithet. Is he reminding you of what you were or telling you what you'll always be? You don't reply. You'll just sound stupid. Your father taught you sometimes it's better to just bite your tongue. 

You redirect to the front door as he stays on your tail. His shadow makes you want to shrink down to nothing as he looms close. You enter and he nearly collides with you as you remove your shoes.

You press on to the kitchen as he follows. As he resumes his place before his tea cup you go to the cupboard and search out the pitcher you saw the other day and a tall glass. While you fill the jug, he clucks.

“What are you doing?”

“I'll put some water on the patio in case he gets thirsty,” you pull away from the lever, “sorry, I… should've asked. I was just thinking–”

“No, no, you're right. We should be hospitable,”

You nod and push against the lever so the water pours out of the nozzle. When it's full, you find a tray and set it beside the single glass and add ice. Laufeyson taps his porcelain cup.

“Aren't you going to finish your tea?” He asks.

“Um,” you blink and peek back at the mug as you lift the tray, “sure, when I come back.”

You turn to leave, trying not to falter as his gaze tugs at you. You go to the patio door and stop balancing the tray against the side table. Before you can even try the door, Laufeyson sidles past to slide it back himself.

“There, wouldn't want a spill.”

“Er, thanks,” you don't look at him as you pass. He's being helpful. Too helpful.

You place the tray on the glass table and go back inside. You sweep through to the entryway and grab your shoes. Laufeyson once more tails you.

“Your tea,” he reminds you.

“I know, I'm just going to let Ronan know about the water…” you murmur.

You go outside before he can catch up. You descend the front stairs and follow the curve towards the rear path. Mr. Laufeyson’s silhouette disappears behind the hedges as you round the corner of the house and head down towards the gazebo.

Ronan is at the top of the stairs, he paces around, eyeing the railings and testing the stability of the columns with a firm grip. He tilts his head as you approach unnoticed. You stand just on the bottom step sheepishly.

“Um, excuse me, sir,” you pipe up.

“Yes,” he spins to face you, “miss, what can I do for you?”

“Oh, nothing, I just… I left some water on the patio,” you point over towards the house, “if you follow the path around, the stairs are just by the rose bushes.”

“Thanks,” he says, “that's very… sweet of you.”

“Uh, well, it's pretty hot out.”

“Used to it,” he says as he grabs a thick metal clipboard and scribbles with short pencil, “but it's appreciated. Always nice to work with someone competent.”

“I…” your cheeks ache to smile, you think it's a compliment, “thank you.”

“I'd hate to keep you,” he says as he sets the clipboard back on his bag, “your boss seems to be very… straight laced. I wouldn't want to tangle him up.”

“It's… um, yeah, if you need anything, I'll be around,” you offer, bobbing on your heels, “I'll have my phone, you could message me or ring the bell.”

“I think I'll be okay,” he chuckles, not mockingly but kindly, “go on, you're right, it's too hot to be out here in polyester.”

You look down at yourself, sweat beading along your hairline as if to confirm his warning, “yeah… erm, okay. Thanks.”

You shuffle off the step, balling your fists as you walk away with straight arms, fighting not to look back. That was awkward and strange. You can only think he'll be laughing again, this time at your expense.