#credits might be broken/missing

[homestimstuck]

Eridan Ampora board with a simple general theme! [sea/water, cool colors, guns, sparkles]

X | X | X

X | ♒️ | X

X | X | X

[pukefactory]

Salesperson ena x klutz reader who runs into the face of danger whenever they’re on a job! Ena becoming a pro of keeping reader out trouble because of it too develops a sixth sense of when readers about to do something insane. Hit or miss if she can stop it all the time though.

•☽────✧˖°˖ SUBAQUATIC ERROR ˖°˖✧────☾•

★ Summary: A Compilation of Headcannons Featuring Salesperson Ena X Klutz Reader

★ Character(s): Salesperson Ena (Ena: Dream BBQ)

★ Genre: Headcanons, SFW

★ Warning(s): None - Completely Safe!

★ Image Credits: @JoelG

☆ At first, Salesperson Ena didn��t intend to add “Klutz Liability Coordinator” to her job title—but after the third incident involving you, a frog costume, a combustion grate, and four missing chairs, she started scheduling your catastrophes like calendar events. “Ah yes,” she mutters, flipping through an invisible planner while running. “Tuesday: [ASSISTANT EXPLODES THE BUFFET LINE]—yep, we’re right on schedule.”

☆ Her sixth sense has a sound. It’s not a gut feeling. It’s a horrifyingly specific click in her left temple, like a mechanical pencil snapping underwater. That’s when her body tenses and her clawed hand shoots out like a grappling hook, intercepting you mid-fall or redirecting you from swallowing suspicious purple smoke. “Excuse me,” she chirps with alarming calm, hoisting you upside down by the ankles. “That gas is not food. Nor soup. Nor a decision you should make.”

☆ Meanie is absolutely losing her mind. Every time you almost die, she’s in the back screaming like a broken vacuum. “YOU WALKED INTO A VOLCANO. FOR A COUPON. A COUPON!!!” She’s tried making laminated “STOP” signs, hazard maps, a whistle, and even a musical number. You tripped over all of it. You thought the warning jingle was a bop.

☆ She’s made contingency plans for every scenario and you still outpace them. Ena once drew up a full incident flowchart with “If they fall into a drainpipe during reconnaissance” branching into 13 colored outcomes. One of them ends with a goat revolution. “Don’t worry,” she tells a client mid-meeting, already sprinting toward an explosion. “This is covered under Clause: Dumbass in Proximity.”

☆ You treat danger like a scavenger hunt. You don’t seek danger, you just stumble into it like it’s hiding a clue. “Ooh, what’s this? A glowing box marked ‘DO NOT TOUCH’? Must be important!” You poke it. It howls. Ena tackles you out of the blast radius and smiles through gritted teeth. “Please, darling. For the quarterly forecast. For the future. For GØD. Don’t poke the cosmic horrors.”

☆ She literally made a wearable danger alarm. It’s a glitchy, singing megaphone hat that wails when you’re within ten feet of “anything that would get someone sued.” You wore it once. It went off for six hours straight. You thought it was beatboxing. Ena hasn’t stopped twitching since.

☆ Sometimes she just gives up mid-rescue. She’s leapt across rooftops to catch you mid-air, thrown herself in front of giant fish, and once argued with a sentient knife vending machine to spit you back out. But sometimes? Sometimes she just stares as you charge directly toward an electric void like it’s a selfie booth. “You know what? Fine. Let natural selection send me an invoice.”

☆ She has nicknames for each flavor of chaos you bring. “Oh no, they’ve gone full Confident Mole Rat Mode,” she’ll mutter, watching you dive beneath the casino tiles for “spatial leverage.” If you start climbing furniture: “That’s Vertical Disaster Initiative.” Running toward loud noises? “Classic Business Risk Manic Maneuver™.” You say you’re following your “intuition.” She says you’re following lead paint.

☆ She’s surprisingly tender about it in private. Once you fell through a mirror and re-emerged five minutes later in a fountain with a fish on your head and no memory of how you got there. You looked like you might cry. Ena didn’t say much—just quietly handed you her cap, dried your hair with a conveniently placed towel, and sat beside you as the fountain rained. “…I’m glad you came back through,” she mumbled, voice flickering to her serious side. “I would’ve…missed the chaos. And you.”

☆ No matter what, she always finds you. You once got sucked into a haunted storage closet with no doors. The security cameras caught her snapping her fingers, pulling out a megaphone, and yelling, “HEY. MISPLACED EMPLOYEE. REPORT TO FRONT DESK BEFORE I FILE YOU UNDER MISSING TAX DEDUCTIONS.” You stumbled out, covered in cobwebs, blinking. She dusted you off like this happens every Tuesday. (It does.) She never says it out loud, but she knows where you’ll end up. Always. Somehow. She’s tuned into your brand of nonsense like a second heartbeat. And she’ll be there—with a clipboard, a sigh, and a clawed hand reaching to catch you—every time.

[fuckyeahisawthat]

Up until the almost-end-of-the-world, the way Aziraphale and Crowley maintained their relationship was through a collection of well-established and repeated patterns (dances, you might say). These little rituals were what they used to communicate affection, intimacy and trust when they couldn’t say the things they wanted to say out loud. I like spending time with you. You make me happy, and I like making you happy. We’re in this together. I’ll always be there for you, even when your own side is not.

In season 1, as the stress of the impending apocalypse puts more and more pressure on their relationship, we see their patterns start to break down, and it’s very distressing for them. They’ve been communicating like this for so long that they don’t know what to do when one of them doesn’t follow the dance steps.

When we first see them in season 2, they seem in some ways to be closer than ever. They touch each other more easily, Aziraphale in particular. Crowley is comfortable enough in the bookshop that he has a Spot for putting his sunglasses when he takes them off by the door. They’re more open about acknowledging how much time they spend together and how many things in their lives are shared.

And I think, also, we expect them to be happy. They won, didn’t they? So it takes a while for the cracks to start to show.

It wasn’t until this post pointed out that the whole season, we never see them sit down and share a meal together in the present day (no, Crowley doesn’t eat; yes, it still counts) that it started coming together for me. The closer you look, the more you realize the old patterns they’re used to relying on are broken.

Three times, we see them sit down to their usual table for two (at the coffee shop, the bar, and the French restaurant) and then almost immediately get up again. This post also points out that we don’t see present-day Aziraphale eat anything on screen, other than one of the little candies in the Bentley. This in the same season we learn that Crowley is the one who introduced him to food! It’s one of their oldest rituals!

Even one of their most visually recognizable patterns starts to go wonky this season. In season 1, when the blocking allows it, Crowley’s always on Aziraphale’s left. When they’re standing or walking side by side, and most of the time when they’re sitting side by side together (there are some exceptions due to camera angles)…Crowley’s always on Aziraphale’s left (screen right if they’re facing us, screen left if we’re behind them). It’s one of the clues about the body swap that is easy to see when you know what to look for—in Berkeley Square they are each initially sitting on the “wrong” side of the bench. It’s so reliable that Aziraphale hears a little miracle bling in the sushi restaurant in s1 ep1 and turns to his left—because that’s where Crowley would appear—only to be startled by Gabriel on his right.

Go look at the scene where we find out Gabriel and Beez are a couple. You know the one.

And of course, many people have noted that in the end credits, we’d expect their positions on screen to be switched. They’re on the wrong sides. And it’s such a long shot that I think it has to be intentional.

Some people have speculated that this means they swapped bodies again. I don’t really buy that. Rather I think it is supposed to indicate what becomes extremely clear on a second viewing, that things are Off and Wrong. They are not okay.

And the more you watch them you see that Aziraphale’s excitement during his little adventures is manic and brittle, and that he misses having a place and a purpose and a mission to do good. And Crowley is depressed, unhealthily codependent, even more hypervigilant and cagey and angry than he was before. They both have layers and layers of trauma, and no way to talk about it. They have the time and freedom now to talk about what they want to be to each other, now that they don’t have to hide and encode and maintain plausible deniability. But they have no way to talk about that either, because that’s never been an option before. They don’t know how, and they are both so, so afraid.

And in the fights they have in episode 1 and episode 6, you realize they haven’t resolved anything from season 1. They’re having the same fight they had at the bandstand. Crowley wants to run, keep the two of them safe and damn the rest, and Aziraphale wants to stay and help, believing he can make a difference even in an imperfect system, and neither of them really understands the other’s position. It’s the same damn fight. They haven’t been able to move past this impasse, and it’s the exact thing that breaks them in the end.

And it’s just. Fuck. It’s such a human thing to have happened to them. To make it through the fire (metaphorical and literal) and then have everything go to shit afterward because of unaddressed traumas and insecurities and things left unsaid until they fester.

I know this is not at all how I expected the season to go, and I think it took a little while for me to parse what was going with their relationship, because we are predisposed to want them to be happy and to want things to be easy for them now. But it makes so much sense that this is where they ended up at this point in the story.

I know they’ll make it back to each other. They both love each other too much to give up. They’ll fight their way back together, and I know they’ll figure it out in the end.

But goddamn.

[miriunknown]

Our Love story could be kinda Gory 🧠 [pt. 1]

Zombie!Jinx x F!reader

Summary: an outbreak of a virus flooded the streets of Zaun, Piltover following soon after. You were one of the few people that still lived, while searching for food you catch the eye of certain blue haired zombie.

Warnings: Mentions of blood, Zombies, this is gonna have multiple parts, jinx, proofread but I probably missed some things, very obvious references,

Divider credits: @bernardsbendystraws

Pt. 2

It happened so suddenly— it began in Zaun, people attacking each other in the streets. Seemingly agitated at anything that moved or made noise, it started by one person then soon most of Zaun was infected and Piltover quickly followed suit. No one knew why and no one knew who caused it, it spread quickly one bite is all it took, one small bite barely breaking the skin and it was over. The infection would spread through your body quickly, turning you within a day, morphing you into a mindless zombie muttering bouts of gibberish and broken english. After the initial shockwave of zombies, it died down, zombies were less frequent. But that didn't make it any less dangerous.

Most of Zaun was infected as was Piltover, survivors were scarce if there were really any at all. You were one of the few "lucky" ones that actually survived this, you didn't know of any survivors nor did you care if there were— you only wanted to survive. Food was very scarce and hard to come by, most food was rotten and the ones that weren't tasted like dish water. The streets were quiet, unusually so but it brought you an advantage if anything so you quietly maneuvered the bare streets. You found yourself infront of a old food stall, the sign was worn and torn and you couldn't make out the name, looking around you made your way around the counter you began rummaging through the stall quietly turning over pots, bowls and old containers but there was nothing.

You groaned lowly before turning around walking back out of the stall, your feet dragging against the ground caught the attention of something — someone. it was still quiet, you didn't think of anything though you still made sure to be alert. You thought you were safe, little did you know someone was watching you right at this very moment— her pink eye trained on you as you maneuvered through the piles of trash and metal that littered the street. Her blue matted braids swaying lightly as she moved to follow you closely, her sight was trained on you she felt drawn to you; for whatever reason it might be.

Her footsteps were quiet as she followed you silently, if you would've known she was there you would've been disturbed. She didn't make a noise, no babbling like most zombies or loud footsteps from dragging her feet, no she was quiet. Her feet were light as she stepped, her mouth practically glued shut making sure no grunts or groans escaped her dead lips. The only sound she made was the light jingle and thud from her shoes. You felt eyes on you as you made your way through the city, your head was on a constant swivel trying to catch the person or thing that was watching you but to no avail, she was hidden.

As you turned a corner a zombie jumped out at you, "mus... ust... Ea...ughhh.." it groaned as you jumped back catching you off guard. You went to reached for your gun but before you could a shot rang out, the zombies brains scattered against the wall. You stepped back, you half expected to see another survivor but no, it was another Zombie. She stood there her arm extended holding her gun still pointed at the zombie, but her eye was trained at you. You knew who she was; everyone did. She was Silco's daughter, Zauns savior— or she was. Her hair was still in twin braids yet they were matted and pieces of flesh and blood stained them in certain places. She was missing a eye, as well as her middle finger.

You just stood there staring at her, you were dumbfounded, unsure of what just happened. You shook your was forcing yourself to snap out of it you, grabbed your gun pointing it at her she didn't move even with the barrel of your gun pointed at her forehead. She simply lowered her gun still keeping her eye on you, you were about to pull the trigger but there was something about the way she looked at you. There was a sort of passion burning in her eye, as she stared at you, you dropped your guard lowering your gun— you decided to let her keep her head, she didn't seem hostile— if she was she would've most definitely attacked you by now. You turned to walk away, She quickly followed behind you, 'why is she following me?' you thought as you continued to make your way back to your apartment, with her in tow.

She didn't make a sound, she just kept her eye on you as she followed you closely, no noises escaped her lips as she followed adding to your unnerved feeling. The only sound you heard from her was the sound of her shoe hitting the ground as well as the slight jingle. You moved through the alleyways swiftly in an attempt to lose her, but she was hot on your trail. She was oddly fast for a Zombie, most of them were slow limping usually and crawling on occasion, but she seemed abnormally fast. Everytime you'd turn around to see if you've lost her she'd be only a few steps behind. It was unsettling. She didn't do anything, she made no sounds, no trying to bite you, she just followed you intently. Her eye was watching your every movement, she didn't look away from you.

You made a sharp turn and started running, jumping over trash and rubble that were scattered about. You finally reached the small balcony outside of your apartment, you whipped your head around keeping an eye out before you hurriedly grabbed one of the ladders trying to quietly pull it down but you noticed something moving in the darkness, then you heard it. "Ma..ughh..ma...." Your blood ran cold as you tried to pull the ladder down quickly not caring how much noise you made anymore you just wanted to get out of there. A little girl appeared out of the darkness, she was in ragged clothes and her hair was matted and dirty from all the dirt and blood. She lunged at you making you step back and brace yourself, but someone grabbed her, it was Jinx. She grabbed her pulling her out of the alleyway and walking off. You were stunned unsure of what just happened; you stood there for a good few seconds before you snapped out of it giving the ladder a few good tugs and it finally fell down, the sound of metal clanking hitting the ground rang out throughout the alley way causing you to whip your head around to make sure it didn't attract anything.

You hoisted yourself up onto the small balcony, pulling the ladder up once you got good footing, you sighed from the stress rubbing your face with your hands of the thought that you could've been bitten— before she saved you. You opened the window to your apartment sighing as you stepped inside. It was dark, old food containers were struin about from nights of instant noodles for breakfast, lunch and dinner. You quickly closed the window drawing the curtains and setting your backpack on the floor as you flopped onto your bed, you could smell the faint scent of vanilla on your sheets from your body spray which seemed to lull you to sleep as you quickly drifted off, the tiredness of the day finally washing over you.

You woke up in the middle of the night, you looked at your clock; 2:45, it read you as you laid there wondering why you woke up but then you heard it— tapping at your window. *tap tap tap,* "he... Hel..ooo..." your heart nearly stopped beating realizing what was outside your window, you grabbed a bat that was leaning up against your wall as you approached the window. You carefully peaked through the curtain slightly, to see familiar matted blue hair. You sighed, *tap tap tap,* this time it was persistent, irritated even.

You didn't want to open the window, even if she didn't attack you before she could snap and attack now. The taps just got louder, eventually the taps turned into banging, which turned into her trying to pry your window open. You just gave up on trying to ignore her and approached the window flinging the curtains open giving her a tired glare, she just stared at you, but you swear you could see a smirk appear on her face. *Tap, tap* "ooohh....pe-..nnn..." She grunted behind the glass of the window that separated the two of you. You were tired, you just wanted sleep, yet this random zombie girl wouldn't leave you alone.

She just looked at you, a sweet look on her face— she looked innocent, you knew she wasn't. But that didn't mean you didn't give in and open your window for her. She smiled a crooked smile at you as she stalked her way inside your apartment, her head was practically spinning how quickly she was turning her head to look around at all your decorations and rations. "What do you want?" You asked her; forgetting she can't exactly tell you. She walked towards you, slowly to where she was only inches away from your face. The smell of rotting flesh and blood invaded your nostrils but you tried not to flinch at the smell, she stood there for a few minutes just observing your face, taking in any little detail from the smallest wrinkle to the large bags under your eyes from restless nights.

There it was— you noticed it again, that look in her eye she had when she looked at you. It was the same look you had noticed when you first locked eyes with her only a few hours prior. You couldn't make out what it was, hunger? Curiosity? Lust? You were unsure, she brought her hand to your face sweeping some hair out of your face as she admired you. Your breath hitched at her sudden movement, your body became tense as the anxiety of having a zombie a mere 5 inches from your face crashed down on you, and suddenly you felt that pit in your stomach the one that made you feel nervous beyond belief.

Her brows furrowed as she noticed how you tensed against her touch, stepping back she continued looking around your room. She was silent, the silence only made your anxiety worse you felt the pit in your stomach grow as you watched her walk around your room occasionally running her fingers along framed photos or posters you still had on your wall from before the outbreak.

She turned back to you just watching, "what's with you?" You muttered, she tilted her head at your question unsure of what you meant. She opened her mouth in an attempt to speak but only broken up words and grunts escaped, she covered her mouth with her hand brows furrowing as she became increasingly frustrated with how she's borderline mute at the moment. You thought of something, your legs moved from beneath you as you approached your nightstand reaching into one of the various drawers and pulling out a old notebook. The girl watched you; curiosity etched onto her face as she observed your moving figure. You looked around your room for a pen— a pencil, anything you could use to write.

Finally finding an old worn out pen you tested it on the paper, the ink spelling out a long line against the white paper. Your eyes found your way back to hers, she was sitting on a chair by your desk still watching you. You shrunk under her gaze but you approached her anyhow, "can you write? Write what you want to say?" You told her, holding the notebook and pen out for her to take, her eyes glanced at the items in your hands but quickly looked back at your face. She took them still maintaining eye contact with you as she turned to set the notebook on your desk.

She began writing quickly and messily, you let her write in peace while peaking out of your window to make sure no other zombies were out there, before closing the window— making sure to leave it unlocked in case your guest decided to get bitey. When you turned back to her she was already holding out the notebook to you, waiting expectingly for you to take it. You hesitantly reached for it, nervous that she was going to bite your hand off as you grabbed it; but she didn't she just lightly smiles at you as your eyes landed on the page. "Your interesting" was all that was written out besides a lopsided smiley face that was written beside the text. "I'm interesting? What the hell does that mean?" You asked completely puzzled at her written statement. She just shrugged getting up from the chair and opening up the window, she looked back at you as she swung her legs over the window sill, her eyes never leaving yours before winking- or maybe she just blinked it's hard to tell with her having one eye- and jumping out the window closing it behind her and walking off into the night, you were dumbfounded. Of all the things that could happen you never expected this,

A zombie that was obsessed with you.

I'll make sure to link the next part here so you can find it easier, it might take a while for me to write it though 😥

[zablife]

Missing You

Benny Cross x gf reader

Summary: After a wreck puts you in the hospital, Benny takes off. Will he return or leave you with more than just a broken leg?

Warnings: hospital setting, injury, brief mention of motorcycle accident, fear of abandonment, angst with fluffy ending

A/N: My first fic for The Bikeriders, pls be kind! Comments are love so leave me some 💕 No spoilers here!

Divider credit @firefly-graphics

Benny Cross Masterlist

You turned in the narrow hospital bed, head throbbing from the pain and the bright overhead light in your eyes. "Benny," you mumbled, head fuzzy and mouth feeling as though it were stuffed with cotton.

"Isn't there anyone else we could call?" a tired voice asked from far away. "A relative? Parents?"

There was a shuffle and whispering that sounded like a passing cloud over your head. "No one...she doesn't speak to...don't make it worse, please. He'll be back."

You tried to sit up to see what was happening, but you felt a wave a nausea which stopped you suddenly. Screwing your eyes shut to will it away, the gentle rocking only continued, making you whimper.

"Shhh, lie back, honey," a warm voice instructed, pressing you down into the soft pillows. You felt the warmth of a hand encasing yours as reassuring words poured over you like honey. "They put you under to fix that busted leg, but you're gonna be fine now. Just need a little rest, that's all."

You blinked slowly and opened your eyes once more, fixing your gaze on Johnny's wife, Betty. She gave you a small smile and you felt yourself relax at the sight of her kind eyes. Much like Johnny had for Benny, she had become a role model for you, teaching you how to make a life with the Vandals. Now she was more of a mother to you than your flesh and blood.

"Wh-where's Benny?" you asked, a bit more coherently than you'd managed before.

Betty busied herself pouring some water into a cup for you and your heart began to race, wondering if she was stalling. The memories were coming back to you in full force now, Benny carrying you into the hospital after the crash, yelling at the nurses and doctors. Had he abandoned you then because of the trouble or later when he learned of the care you'd require? You felt hot tears welling in your lash line as you realized this might be the end.

As she turned back to you with the cup, Betty's face fell. Sighing gently, she confirmed your worst fears. "He's not coming back tonight, Y/n."

You couldn't stop the sobs that wracked your body, shoulders shaking and chest heaving with the weight of her words. She allowed you a moment of despair, a hand stroking down your back in soothing circles. When that didn't seem to comfort you, she asked, "Don't you remember the nurses asking Benny to leave?"

Stifling a cry, you sniffed, "No, what are you talking about?"

"I thought you knew."

"Benny stayed?"

"Sure he did, paced all night. Got himself so worked up, he punched a hole in the wall over there! They told him he had to show himself the door or the cops would," Betty explained, the rush of words leaving her mouth so quickly you barely comprehended it all.

You inhaled a deep breath, feeling lightheaded from the relief. "He still wants me?" you mumbled to yourself. There had always been a deep fear coursing through you that someday Benny would take off and never come back. You'd been warned many times he was a man who liked his freedom.

"He still what?" Betty asked, looking at you in confusion. "Sweetie it's none of my business, but I think you should try to sleep now."

Nodding in agreement, you sunk beneath the hospital blankets, exhaustion quickly overtaking your tired mind.

When your eyes reopened, sunlight was pouring through the blinds. A lazy smile spread across your face as you realized your head was no longer pounding with the incessant pain from yesterday. Though your leg now ached in its place and an irritating itch inside your cast was nagging you, somehow you had a good feeling about the day ahead. Stretching your arms above your head, you startled at the sound of a familiar, deep voice.

"Hi baby."

Your heart caught in your chest, too afraid to look if it was actually him.

"Ain't you gonna say hello?" Benny asked, his handsome face hovering over you like a blue eyed angel.

"Oh, Benny," you whimpered, eyes filling with tears.

"Hey, hey...don't cry," he urged, sweeping your hair away for a cautious kiss. You strained to meet the soft press of his full lips against yours, leaning into the gentle touch of his fingertips lacing through your hair. He kept his weight from you, careful not to worsen the bruising he knew you'd sustained to your ribs.

As his beard brushed your cheek, the gravel in his voice rumbled into your chest along with the words you'd longed to hear, "I missed my girl."

"I missed you. What the hell happened?"

Benny chuckled, his teeth shining in that mischievous grin he wore when he knew he'd been caught. His gaze turned toward the crumbling plaster he'd left in the wake of his anger, straightening his denim jacket as he confessed, "Mighta made some trouble."

"I heard," you said, crossing your arms over your chest. "Betty told me, but she didn't say why," you prodded with a raised eyebrow.

Benny pulled up a chair, taking your hand between his large calloused palms. "Listen, I want you to know somethin."

You furrowed your brow uncertain where he was headed.

He rubbed his thumb over the back of your hand as he spoke, his speech slow and tender as you'd never heard him before. A man of few words you weren't prepared for what came next. "I know you don't have kin...kin that claim you anyway." You stared down at his rings, watching them glimmer in the light as he chewed his lip in concentration, choosing his next words carefully. "We been riding together a couple of years now and you gotta know by now that I'll never leave you behind."

Swallowing a lump in your throat, you realized how wrong you'd been, misjudging your boyfriend in a moment of fear. The reputation Benny had as a loner who only looked out for himself simply wasn't true. The love you felt for each other was real, he was telling you so right now. The thought stirred butterflies in your stomach the likes of which you hadn't felt since you met.

Reaching for his face, you cupped his blonde scruff as you proclaimed, "I want to be with you too."

His eyes fell to the floor, thick lashes downcast as he was overcome by a sudden rush of shyness. Perhaps he'd already said too much, revealed a part of himself he kept hidden for fear of exposing weakness. However, you were reveling in it, especially when he raised his head to add another word of praise just for you.

"I was proud of you when we went down. Took it like a champ, you know?"

It was your turn to look away, blush creeping up your neck as you shook your head in vehement denial.

"No, I mean it. The first thing you asked when they got you in here was when you was gonna ride again!" he chuckled at the memory.

"What?" you asked incredulously.

"Yeah, the nurses all thought you were crazy. Said so too," he recalled, bitterness rolling off his tongue. He sighed heavily as he admitted, "That's why I punched the wall."

Staring up at the ceiling, you finally connected all the pieces and let out a little huff. It was soon followed by a snort, then a rolling wave of laughter as you were unable to contain your amusement at your boyfriend's classic impulsiveness. All the hurt and pain melted away as you realized it had all been a wayward attempt to defend you.

"M glad you think it's funny I almost got arrested," he protested.

"And I got a broken leg, Benny!" you countered sternly.

"You win," he conceded with a grin.

Looking down at the cast you turned sullen. "Can't ride with you now."

"Says who?" he asked, drawing close to you. His bright eyes danced with spirited challenge, daring you to defy him.

"I just thought..." you stumbled, feeling all willpower leave your body. When Benny asked something of you, the only answer was yes.

"You go where I go. We make trouble together, remember?" he said, sliding an arm over your waist and pulling you into him for another slow, sensual kiss.

"Sure do, don't we?" you agreed, moving in unison with him. Clutching onto his jacket you asked, "We going home now? I'm done missing you."

[writerbugg]

Good Luck

Chapter # 6 Foggy Fears

Platonic Yandere Dc x reincarnated Reader

Wattpad

Prologue, Chapter 1, Chapter 2, Chapter 3, Chapter 4, Chapter 5, Chapter 6 (You are here)

I realized at that moment that there are some whose dread of human beings is so morbid they yearn to see monsters of ever more horrible shapes.

- Junji Ito

(Once again, this chapter was changed quite a bit.)

!!TW!! Death, Blood, Car accident, Sudden switch from first person to second person.

*.·:·.✧ ✦ ✧.·:·.*

'Dinner was too quiet.' Louis thought as she picked up the plates from the table, slowly bringing them to the sink.

'How could I have missed it?' She thought as she began to scrub the plate in her hand. 'She's my daughter. How could I have not seen it?'

Her grip tightened on the plate, her acrylic nails painfully dug into the plate. 'Am I such a horrible mother that I couldn't even notice my daughter ███ █████ ██?'

Snap

Louis looks down at her broken nail, a stinging pain accompanying the sudden loss of her red nail.

"Mom?"

Louis jumps, quickly turning her head and letting out a sigh of relief when she sees Jon. Placing a hand on her chest, she gives Jon a shaky smile, "Oh, Jon, be careful you almost gave your mother a heart attack."

Jon simply nods, as if not hearing his mother, "Um, Conner is... here." He muttered.

Louis's smile drops briefly before returning with a strained one, "Oh? Really? Well invite him in, it's been forever since he's come to visit."

Giving his mother a concerned look, Jon makes his way back out of the kitchen.

Louis sighs as soon as Jon leaves, running a hand through her hair.

"It's all my fault," She whispered, "It's all my fault..."

──●◎●──

The movie had ended, though Y/n barely noticed. All she could think about was how... ѳЧҭ ѳf ҁћӓГӓҁҭЭГ Clark had acted during the car ride. This wasn't the calm, happy-go-lucky superhero Y/n grew up with in the comics, he seemed so different. More stressed and less stable the Clark Kent from the comics. It all led to one thought;

If he's like this, how would he react if he found out about her reincarnation?

'I just want to go home.' Y/n ran a hand through her hair, her thoughts made her feel guilty, was she being ungrateful? Was Y/n even really Y/n? What if she just took over this Y/n's body? Was it her fault Clark's 'daughter' was gone?

What if he found out-

"Y/n? Are you ok? The credits ended a while ago." Clark's hand on Y/n's shoulder felt like fire. "Let's get going, okay?" Clark said softly, dipping his head down to look into  Y/n's eyes. "I'm sure Bruce (the prick) is anxious to have you back at the manor."

With a hesitant nod, Y/n stands up slowly. "Yeah... You're right, we should go." Clark smiles warmly, complete 180 from earlier. "Before that, I was hoping we could stop by the store on our way back." Clark rubs the back of his neck bashfully, "I might have promised your mother to get groceries while I was out, and the market is on the way to Bruces Mansion." His eyes seem to light up, "Oh! They might even have that snack you like so much! We can pick it up as well."

Y/n nods, "Yeah, I don't mind,"

Clark's smile widens, "Great! Let's get going then!"

Sighing, Y/n follows Clark to his car, 

'DC has Walmarts?' Y/n thought as she followed Clark into the supermarket.

The Walmart looked normal for the most part, there didn't seem to be too many people (probably because it was relatively late and this was still Gotham). Clark grabs a cart before heading into the supermarket, Y/n following closely behind, immediately he heads over to the dairy section browsing the milk and cream aisle.

"What's your favorite creamer?"

Looking over to Clark, Y/n raises a bow "Hmm?" she hums confused. Clark smiles, "I figured I could get some while we're here for when you go back to Bruce." 

An 'ooh' escapes Y/n's mouth before turning to get a better look at the creamers. In Y/n old life, she honestly preferred sweet things and would often put way too much creamer in her coffee, but as of late she's been enjoying less sweet things. 

"Mmm, I think I'm good for now,"  Y/n responded, not missing the way Clark frowned.

"Oh."

Clark grabs a few things before leaving, and you awkwardly follow behind him.

The rest of the shopping trip continues like this, Y/n felt like tearing her hair out, it was just so awkward and uncomfortable. Eventually, the pair ended up in the electronic section of the store.

"- game you really like!" Clark's voice bleeds into existence, breaking Y/n's train of thought. Glancing over, Y/n sees Clark holding a bootleg version of Minecraft. "Y/n? Did you hear me?" Clark frowns a bit, his eye's losing that spark again. "Y/n. I know you have a lot on your mind, but you-"

"AAHHHHHHH!!!"

You and Clark jump at the sudden scream, Clark's eyes quickly scan the store for the source of the screaming.

"OH GOD-"

"GET AWAY FROM ME!"

"THEY'RE IN MY HEAD, MAKE THEM STOP!"

More and more screams start popping up, Clark quickly pulls you close to him and you can feel your heart pounding. What was going on??

"MY SKIN IS BURNING, I'M BURNING ALIVE!"

"I'M FALLING, I CAN'T STOP FALLING!"

"SPIDERS!"

A mist seems to slowly cover the ground, screams of desperation continue to fill the air, only growing more and more unsettling.

"Shit," Clark mutters, he grips your shoulders and swiftly turns you around to face him. 

"Y/n. You need you listen to me." His voice was serious, "No matter what you see, it's not real. Do you understand? It's. Not. Real." 

Y/n's eyes widen, Fear Gas, the mist was fear gas! This was bad! Very very bad! Unlike Clark, Y/n wasn't immune which meant Y/n was about to experience the full effect of the gas.

"Y/n! Y/n just remember! It's not real- it- ot- rea-"

The world seems to blur as a burning sensation enters Y/n's lungs.

__

You sigh tiredly as you walk along the worn-down sidewalk, comic book in hand. It had been a long day, and all you wanted to do was go home and rest. Stopping at the crosswalk, you take a few glances from side to side, you never know when a truck could just barrel through you because you didn't look. 

You step onto the asphalt road.

Your heart was pounding for some strange reason, it suddenly became really hard to breathe. A loud honk rings in the air. Looking to your left, you see a dark blue truck heading towards you, its headlights illuminating a path where you were dead center.

The vehicle's driving was so erratic, you didn't know which way to run. Ultimately, whichever direction you chose didn't matter. The result would undoubtedly have been the same.

The impact was fast, you didn't feel anything at first.

It didn't last very long, though.

You lay on the asphalt road, gasping for air, trying to gain back all the air knocked out of you. That didn't do so well for your broken ribs, of course. The taste of blood indicates that some of your teeth might be missing, based on your guess.

You can't see much of your surroundings either. Aside from that dark blue truck's headlights blinding you, your vision was growing dark.

For a brief moment, you could see the man step out of his truck and go over to you. Then, everything in the world went dark.

__

"-waking up! She's waking up!" a boyish voice rings in Y/n's ear. A pounding headache seems to accompany her as she slowly sits up in her bed.

A few seconds after Clark enters her room. He looked around until he spotted the suitcase next to her closet, he went over and started to put her belongings in it.

"We are leaving." Clark states firmly, "And tomorrow you and I will be having a talk about what you saw." He seemed upset, extremely upset.

Clark... where are we going?" Y/n asked, though she already knew his answer.

"It's dad, not Clark, Y/n." That was all Clark said as he dragged you downstairs towards the manor's doors. 

Bruce was standing by the door with a perplexed look on his face. He seemed stressed and a bit frustrated. Looking over, Bruce glared at Clark, quickly walking in front of him as if to intercept him, but Clark just pushed him aside.

"Clark put her down, we need to talk about this! Her condition could get worse!" Clark ignored him and walked out the door to his car, Bruce hot on his tail.

"I don't need a man who puts his children through hell and back to lecture me or tell me how to parent my kid Bruce." Clark and put you in the car with the suitcase. Then he got in himself and started the car.

"How about you start focusing on how not to kill your own kids before you start worrying about mine"

──●◎●──

Jon gasps. This... this couldn't be right. It was... no it was impossible! But... it was, it was here and it was possible. This changes everything...

──●◎●──

𝚆𝚎𝚕𝚌𝚘𝚖𝚎 𝚋𝚊𝚌𝚔 𝚝𝚘 𝚁𝚎𝙶𝚎𝚗𝚎𝚜𝚒𝚜 𝙴𝚡𝚙𝚎𝚍𝚒𝚝𝚒𝚘𝚗𝚜 𝙸𝚗𝚌. 𝚆𝚎 𝚊𝚛𝚎 𝚛𝚎𝚐𝚛𝚎𝚝𝚏𝚞𝚕 𝚝𝚘 𝚒𝚗𝚏𝚘𝚛𝚖 𝚢𝚘𝚞 𝚝𝚑𝚊𝚝 𝚢𝚘𝚞𝚛 𝚌𝚘𝚗𝚝𝚛𝚊𝚌𝚝 𝚑𝚊𝚜 𝚋𝚎𝚎𝚗 𝚋𝚛𝚎𝚊𝚌𝚑𝚎𝚍.

𝚂𝙾𝙼𝙴 𝙾𝙽𝙴 𝙺𝙽𝙾𝚆𝚂!!!

█████ 𝙺𝙽𝙾𝚆𝚂!

*.·:·.✧ ✦ ✧.·:·.*

TagList - @blublock404 @no-sleep-for-insomniacs @rosecentury

[fallen-gravity]

some thoughts on the moana 2 novelization, as threatened promised <3 under a readmore for spoilers and also because I don't trust myself to keep it short

(friendly reminder that I do not ship Maui and Moana! you can rb, but don't be weird about it)

Genuinely right off the bat I can't get over how loving Moana is described to be? She just loves others so much. She always describes Pua and HeiHei as her friends rather than her pets because of how much she cares about them!! it's so stupid cute that not only does she refer to Pua as her "loyal, adorable friend", but it's also implied that she handmade the little satchel he likes to ride in just for him. It eats me up inside!! She cares so much!!

The center island she's looking for is spelled as Motufetū!! I always love getting confirmation for these things, it makes things so much easier as a fic writer.

One of the souveniers she takes back with her alongside the broken pottery is a "massive clam". hello???? foreshadowing??? did everyone know about the giant clam guardian??

"For a man who had once forbidden her from going beyond the reef, he now spent quite a lot of time beyond it himself." AUUWHAAHHH THAT LINE KILLED ME WE LOVE TO SEE GROWTH FROM TRAUMA

"He loved her enthusiasm, but she seemed overexcited, and she was still his daughter, and he wanted to take care of her" MOANA!!! IS!!! SO LOVED!!!!

Loto's tool is called an adze! also she's apparently only 17?? two years younger than Moana?? not at all what I would've pegged her as, honestly

The storytelling tapestries are called siapos!!! more terminology!!!

"Her eyes darted to the image of Maui carved into the wall. She hadn't seen him since her return to Motunui, and she missed him. Not that she would admit it out loud" STRANGLING YOU STRANGLING YOU STRANGLING YOU

"Humans, were in fact, why he was here now, in this unknown realm of the gods looking at the pinkish white ball in front of him. At least, he thought that might be why he's here. These missions to benefit humans didn't always come with clear instructions" immediately followed by thinking about the trip to Te Fiti with Moana. What a dumbass <3 "I'm doing it for them and I don't know why? totally unrelated note haha that trip to Te Fiti with Moana was fun :)"

Never saw any of that journey coming, never could brute force his way through it, worth every second. Only considers getting the hook back as an afterthougt, ougghhhhhhh

Homeboy sucks at pretending that he doesn't care about Moana. He's talking to Matangi for all of two seconds and he's all "I'm a changed person! For um. no particular reason! It was definitely because of the thousand year isolation and nothing else whatsoever!"

There's no finite explanation for why Maui's there, but he credits Moana for making him a better person for being the reason. Something about breaking the curse? It's never made clear, even in the book.

Mini Maui selling him out for bullshitting about hating Moana is even funnier in the book, like Maui goes "yeah lol that girl was just a tool I uused to get my hook back" and Mini Maui starts pounding on him. Homeboy Moana can't even hear you and you're still mad at Maui for bullshitting, it kills me. Maui tries shooting him down. "Mini Maui wasn't convinced" has me in stitches

Maui's internal dialogue shifting to "oh wait, yeah, I wanted to surprise her with a visit. Oops." while he's tied up also has me in stitches. ffs, maui, get your priorities straight

"He refused to let Moana be hurt or threatened" I am on the floor

Every time Tui calls Moana "my dear" it adds ten years to my lifespan

The siapo of Maui in the storytelling fale is so lifelike that "it's as if he were about to jump off the fabric at any moment and start teasing her." that's so stupid cute!!!! also so stupid sad that she probably talks to it a lot hoping that it'll work someday. ough.

"Maui was having a bad day. Actually, he was having a lot of bad days"." feels like it was pulled right from a fic I would've written in 2018, I'm screaming

"I don't need her to save me...again" swallowing the earth as we speak

Curly still being the default nickname is also taking me out I need to be given financial compensation asap

There's a parallel that got lost in translation from page to movie, there's the bit where Moana's like "I'm sure Maui's off doing important demigod stuff, wherever he is", but there's also a bit of internal monologue where Maui's like "I hope Moana's faring better than I am, wherever she is" I'm gonna conk their heads together y'all need to communicate

The book directly mentions Moana and her crew passing Te Fiti. Did I miss that from the movie? Did they show Te Fiti, or is this a book-exclusive detail?

Their little Kakamora buddy has a name!! Kotu we don't deserve you. Also he's the Chief Kakamora's son! I just thought he was second in command. That's a whole baby

Maui knows who Pua is, somehow! He sees Pua waddling around and his first thought is "okay, this is weird, why do these people have Moana's pig with them?". Doesn't even remotely click that she could be with them. He's actually about to leave until HeiHei shows face and boy is he absolutely mortified. It eats me up inside. Instant shift of "goodbyeeeeee random humans I don't liiiike!!!" to oh shit, oh shit, oh shit, where is she????

Incredibly suspicious that Moana is the human that has all the gods talking. Something too about Maui having to force himself not to care about her. Did someone do a little too much bragging about his favorite human?

"I thought you'd be...more." okay a) I def think Maui's been overhyping her and b) haha More callback we love to see it

Also, Matangi's just a demigoddess! Not a goddess at all. interesting, interesting, interesting

Moana also sucks at priorities, one single mention of Maui and she instantly shifts to oh, oh my god, is he here? is he nearby? where is he?

Moana recognizes the Portal of the Gods as similar to the entrance to Lalotai...does that mean Lalotai is connected to the Realm of the Gods, in some way? are they the same place under a different name? also all :') that the dance she does to open the portal is specifically meant to be a copy of the haka that Maui did in the first movie.

You know, I think you need her just as much as she needs you. WHAT DOES IT MEAAAN? WHAT DOES IT MEAN? WHAT DOES IT MEAN??? WHERE DID THAT COME FROM???? YOU NEED EACH OTHER??? WHY DO THE GODS KNOW?? WHY DO THE GODS KNOW????

The first thing Moana does when she's back on her canoe is look for Maui because she thinks he's gone 🥹 wants to go back and look for him until she realizes he's the reason she's dangling in the air. Did he stop her from falling off the canoe? ough, I'm deceased

I can't get over Moana assuming he just wants to catch up, they are both such chronic babblers.

"His expression was both happy and annoyed." I'm losing my shit.

"But yeah, it is good to see you again" 🥹🥹🥹🥹🥹🥹🥹🥹🥹.

"The fire in the sky lead us to you" can we stop with the written in the stars stuff. can we stop. my poor heart can't take it. platonic soulmates fr. "maybe we're supposed to do this together." THE GODS KNOW!!!! THEY KNOW!!!

"Maui bit back a smile." kill me. kill me. i'm dead on the spot. kill me.

Ohhhhh, I always love seeing what they do in place of the songs and the replacement for "Can I Get a Chee-Hoo?" kills me most of all, I think. Maui still goes to sit with her, but when Moana starts talking about all the people she's gonna let down, he comes to a screeching halt when she mentions Simea.

"If anyone should be upset, it should be me. Since when do you have a sister?"

"You would've met her, if you ever came to visit me." OUCH! OUCH! OUCH!!! She's trying to tease him but there's a tinge of hurt in her voice, like she feels like he doesn't care enough about her to take the time for her!! You need her as much as she needs you!!!!!

"Three years is a blip to me, princess," says the liar who thought about her on a near-daily basis!!!!

"Empathy wasn't Maui's strong suit. But he seemed to be trying- for her. and that dulled the pain a little" i am in my grave. i am in my grave.

"Why are you even here?" -> "Because...because I've been low before, and I couldn't see my path. And someone came along who I underestimated and she lifted me up. Someone I don't want to underestimate herself right now." THROWING UP!!!!!

"Wow, you're the worst at this." -> "Maui pretended to look offended" conking their heads together as we speak they are so SWEET!!!!!

Maui giving her all the credit for being the one to defeat Nalo!!! not himself!!!! her!!!!!!!

"Maui said he was better for knowing her. That had to count for something" 😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭

It still destroys me that Maui's entire priority is keeping Moana safe!!! He's not just diving in to fight, he keeps going back to make sure they're all safe!!! that's all that matters to him!!!

God their little exchanges are so stupid they're killing me. "Nalo doesn't care about you!" "Yes he does! I'm Maui!!" "THAT'S NOT WHAT I MEANT!!!" dumbasses <3

oooh he really doesn't want to separate, his eyes keep going back and forth between Moana and the monster storm :')

Okay. okay. okay. listen. there's a lot more to Maui's goodbye in the book than in the movie. In the book it's an apology. It's a rushed explanation on why he hadn't gone back to visit her prior. He lied about not having the time for her. All his time has been about and for her.

The reason I didn't visit...was 'cause you made me want to be better. You deserve the whole ocean...I wanted you to have it. Watch yourself out there. I could pull up millions of islands, but if you're not there to land on them, what's the point?

FOR!!!! HER!!!!! EVERYTHING!!!! IS!!!!! FOR!!!!! HER!!!!!

He hated leaving Moana and her crew behind,

He trusted her.

God, coud you imagine? First movie Maui, getting his hook destroyed? Those three words hold more power than anything. He trusted her. If anyone can do this it's her. He trusts her. He trusts her.

His thoughts kept drifting back to Moana. Nothing else matters!!! He could be all full of himself and think about how heroic he's being for The Humans (other) and all he's thinking about is his Favorite Human.

The thought of failing her pushed on him as the weight of the water grew heavy.

WHO WROTE THIS!!!! WHO READ OUR FANFICS!!!!! WHO KNEW!!!!!

His tattoos glowing with the power of the gods the first time he tries lifting Motufetū.....were there other gods that were helping him? are there gods who know?? Te Fiti if you're out there,,,,,,,,,

Moana rushing to protect Maui when lightning barely misses him the first time is.........destroying me?? taking me out??? imagine being protective over a demigod literally pulling an island out of the sea. imagine trying to take many hits for him. using her conch shell to call out to the storm to hit her instead? Maui yelling at her to Not do that? probably because it's breaking his own heart to watch?? ough.

"It went against every instinct, but Moana knew she had to listen to him." THAT'S ALSO GROWTH!!! KEEPING THEM BOTH SAFE BY NOT PUSHING HERSELF FROWARD!!!! GROWTH!!!!!

Maui getting hit by three strikes of lightning, and he uses what he thinks are his last dying moments to say goodbye to Moana. He locks eyes with her, gives her a sad smile, and yells Find your way, kid. Just to her. Just loud enough that she's the only one who can hear. and oh boy is this book brutal about that fourth and "fatal" lightning strike. It's strong enough to fry him. It launches him up so high in the air that Moana can't even see him

So, uh...fun fact! The reason Moana doesn't instantly dive in the water to go after him is because she thinks she's too late and that he's dead on impact. She doesn't even see him hit the water.

"Moana gasped as she felt her necklace pop open and her shell- Simea's shell- toppled out. Frantically,she reached for it, ignoring the danger around her. She couldn't lose that shell. She had already lost so much."

She thinks of everyone she loves when she's about to dive into the water and reach for Motufetū herself and Maui's among them right alongside her family. God. If there were ever a more indirect found family confirmation............

Lightning flashed, illuminating the sky and filtering through the water. Moana hoped that her crew was okay. That Maui had somehow survived. RIGHT!!! FROM!!!! THE FICS!!!! I SWEAR THIS IS PULLED RIGHT FROM THE OLD FICS!!!

His hook was missing, but he didn't care. He dove in after Moana. Hi, yes, 2018-era me is screaming out from inside me. She's clawing her way out of my chest. This is everything she's ever needed.

Fun fact part two! I don't remember how it was in the movie, but Maui watches Moana die too!! I think in the movie he just sees her still body on the surface of Motufetū, but in the book he dives under the water just a moment sooner and helplessly watches the lightning strike through her body. He watches her go still and sink towards the ocean floor :) Now they both have the trauma of watching each other die! :) :)

He tries desperately to catch her before she hits the floor but there are multiple instances of him being knocked back by a shockwave :') The gods sure have found his weakness!!!

He pushed through it. Nothing was stopping him from reaching Moana.

The grieving!!! The grieving is so fierce!!

Isn't it fun?? He practically has a burial ceremony for her! He catches her before her body hits the floor, and he places her gently on the surface of the island so she can fulfill her story! God! I'm unwell! He places Simea's little shell next to her body so Moana can be close to her sister one final time!

Then, kneeling next to her, he put his hand to his heart. It rested on the tattoo of Moana that had appeared after their last adventure. It had been his constant reminder in the three years since how strong a human could be. 🥹🥹🥹😭😭😭😭😭😭🥹😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭

It's just...he doesn't even realize the ocean is creating a dome around them! He's that grief-striken!!

The ocean knows them. It knows what they need. He calls it Moana's. Moana's ocean. aUGGHHHHHH.

Hey so all of that talk about Maui not allowing himself to let the gods know that Moana's his friend and then he's begging them. He's begging the gods and her (her? his? huamnity in general?) ancestors to save her because she deserves more than this. she deserves better. If any of the gods knew nothing of the two of them they sure as hell did now, ohhhhhh boy is that gonna screw him over later :')

So the book never explicitly states she's a demigoddess either! It very ominously states that She'll never be the same.

Moana gets to see her ancestors this time! I can't remember if she woke up before they disappeared in the movie, but when she wakes up her thought process goes wait, where am I? to oh, shit, MAUI?!?!? to TAUTAI VASA? TALA?? HELLO??? someone please invent therapy already she's gonna need it pretty desperately

god imagine if she thought maui was also dead?? she doesn't but ohhhh. ohhhhhh the angst potential of her thinking they're all there to see her off. god.

Shock and awe. That's all Moana can get out of Maui's expression when she catches him staring.

Mini Maui, the more accurate voice, is bawling his little eyes out when he sees that Moana's okay

Moana understands the implications instantly. and she knows that she's only alive now because Maui prayed for her

"Arching an eyebrow, she nodded over her shoulder. It was time they raised an island- togehter". SICK!!! TO!!! MY!!! STOMACH!!!

"She saw Maui, a familiar comfort in this uncharted territory" [AGGRESIVE TABLE SLAMMING] THAT'S FOUND FAMILY BAYBEEEEE

:') there's a big group hug with Moana's crew and Maui tries to wiggle his way to the center. That's almost shot for shot a scene from one of the first Moana fics I ever wrote back in December of 2017 :') turning into a little lizard and skittering into the center of the hug where Moana is because he wants a proper hug too :')

Okay so I definitely know for sure that when it says the villagers of Motunui are shocked Maui's there because they've heard so many stories about him that it's just the regular old legacy stories. but listen. let me be deluisional. it's because Moana always tells stories and Moana's like. known around the island as his best friend. so it's like!!! oh!!! there he is!!! Tautai Moana's best friend!!!! :')

He calls Simea Mini Moana!!!! weeping and sobbing

Simea's big brown eyes familiar. He Also calls Simea tugging on his ear Very Familiar. That's so stupid cute. I wonder if he ever visited when Moana was out voyaging and he ran into Simea if he'd be able to tell that she was her little sister? :') also hilarious because I'm sure it implies Moana told him Simea wanted to yell at him and he went "yeah okay that's fair"

(still lowkey sad Maui never gets included in the family hugs. Ohhhh if they ever found out what he did to save her they'd pull him straight in for sure)

MAUI STAYS!!! CONFIRMATION THAT HE STAYS!!!!

He stays long enough for things to calm down. He and Moana head out by themselves to help their little Kakamora buddy reunite with his family (cough cough)

Moana goes from "that kid" to his "dear friend." cherished. beloved. it's not even relelvant to the plot. He just smiles at her and goes "where to now?" and it's just. that's his dear friend!!! god!!!! so beloved!!! that feels like it holds even more weight than best friend!!!

god. god. I really gotta write a fic where they talk about watching each other die

good shit!!! gooood shit!!! I'm gonna be screaming about this forever. god.

[getitoutofmymindwrites]

Something impulsive | joel miller x f!reader x marcus pike, 7.1k

Summary: The distance between you and Joel grows. You decide to give Marcus a chance. A chance encounter shifts the balance between you and the two men.

Warnings: 18+ MDNI, image just for aesthetic purposes, reader does not have a description, angst, slow-burn, insecurities, first date nervousness, flirting, sexual thoughts, kissing, Joel still being a prick, Joel still being an idiot (bear with him) dog piss (bear with me, too), as always let me know if I missed anything!

A/N: And here I was, thinking that this time I'll keep it short. Who am I kidding. Thank you for taking the time to read anything I write! Love you all!

P.S.: Credits for the final scene go to @jessthebaker and this hilarious comment that I just had to include in the chapter:

Dividers by @cafekitsune & @thecutestgrotto

Main Masterlist | Series Masterlist

previous |

Radio silence.

That is what you would call it.

After your last encounter, you haven't seen or heard from Joel for two long weeks. No text, no phone call, nothing. Were you entering the winter phase again? Most likely.

You regretted the way you had challenged him that night. It wasn't really your style, but that's what happens when you bottle things up. Especially things like desire and longing. Eventually, they erupt like a fucking volcano after a long hibernation. Brutally. And yet you haven't got an ounce or a reaction. Something. Anything at all.

You were terrified that your friendship had been broken. You could have texted him. You should have. You felt it was all your fault anyway. You should have apologized. But you were angry. And selfish. And deep down you blamed him for your reaction, for making you feel helpless, a pawn in his hands.

But was that the case? And can you really blame anyone for your own actions? You were responsible for the way you reacted. You could have done things differently. You knew that. But you did not want to admit that to him.

Whether you were angry or not, you missed him all the same. You missed his presence, his voice, his scent. You missed the sound of his name on your tongue. The warmth of his irises and the softness in his eyes when he looked at you. And boy, did he look at you.

He may not have been a man of many words, but sometimes, just sometimes, his gaze spoke louder than any voice in the room. That's how you got into this mess in the first place.

One evening, on your day off, you hang out with Trish at your place. You needed the company, being alone with your thoughts for too long wasn't a good idea. The two of you sit on the sofa, drinking beer and eating pizza straight out of the box. You had already put your girls to bed and this was your happy hour.

"Are you dating Marcus you little weasel?"

"Where did that come from?", your eyes widen in surprise.

"Joel asked me the other day.", Trish reveals, laughing under her breath.

"WHAT?" you squeal in disbelief. Joel was not the type to ask about other people's private matters. Especially yours and especially to his cousin. "OK, please, elaborate."

"He asked me if you’re seeing him.", she continues.

"When did this happen?", you try to draw an imaginary map in your mind, gathering all the information available to you to understand what might be going through his mind.

"A few days ago, maybe?" she says nonchalantly.

"He asked that explicitly? Those were the exact words he used?", you insist like a hound dog looking for clues.

"Of course not." Trish rolls her eyes, "He danced around it for a while, but I pretended I didn't know what he was talking about -which I obviously don't- and then I made him ask directly."

"Oh god, give the poor man a break!", you exclaim, you could only imagine what a menace could she be when she wanted to.

"Well, are you?"

"No, I’m not. But if he asks again tell him I am."

"Why?", she frowns but looks amused at the same time. Oh, she's up to something.

"So he will leave me alone." Well he already kind of did, but maybe it was for the best to cut the ties once and for all.

"What do you mean? Is he bothering you?" Trish insists, curiosity sparkling in her eyes.

"No- he's- it's not- uh-" where would you even start, it's all a fucking mess, anyway. "Forget I said anything-" you try to end the conversation, but-

"I might have kind of implied that, though?" Trish wrinkles her nose, trying to minimize the damage.

"WHAT?"

"Only because he looked desperate" she rushes to explain, "and honestly you two should really fuck each other. So I thought maybe I could spice things up a bit."

A minute or two passes before you answer her. All this information bombarding your mind left a paralyzing feeling in your mouth. He looked desperate? Why the fuck? Was this the classic 'I want what I can't have'? He wasn't that type. And he could have his way with you if he wanted to. Couldn't he? Did he get the feeling that you weren't interested? What more could you have done, he was the one who went cold and hot all the time. "It's not like that." is all you say.

"The hell it isn't." Trish quips, almost offended.

"We don't want the same things Trish, and I won't make the same mistakes again." you draw the line. "What did he say?", you ask without shame, because you just have to know, even if it hurts you.

"Oh, you know, he put on his usual 'Joel grumpy face' and walked out on me. But honestly, what did you expect?" she shrugs and continues, "So, if 'it's not like that'", she air-quotes you mockingly, "why don't you give Marcus a real chance? He's a good guy and I don't often say that," Trish points her finger at you.

"I'm sure he is Trish, but I can't."

"And why is that?"

"Because it's not honest."

"To whom?"

"To him."

"And..?" she presses you.

You close your eyes, because you really don't want to say it and it feels frustrating but comforting at the same time to have a friend who knows you so well. "And to my heart.", you mumble coyly.

"Oh, baby c'mere. You really like my stupid cousin, don't you?" Trish wraps her arms around your shoulders, squeezing you into a tight hug.

"No, I do not." It's more than that. "And don't push it any further, it's not happening.", it's your turn to point the finger at her.

"Ok.", she sighs troubled. "Ok, look at me and listen carefully.", she makes a serious face, holding your hands in hers as she begins. "Joel's my cousin and he is a good man and I love him, but he has his own issues to deal with-"

"What do you mean?" You interrupt her curiously. You never thought to ask about his past before, it seemed invasive.

"It’s not my place." she cuts you off with a guarded look that seems so foreign on her face and continues, "The point is, you cannot wait for him forever."

"I'm not-" you start to deny it, but Trish grabs your face in her palms, squeezing you gently to make her point and you stop mid-sentence.

"You deserve to be happy. And you can't miss something you've never had." her eyes bore into yours, full of care and concern.

Her last words strike you like a slap on the face.

Oh, but you can. You already are.

Another two weeks have passed and you still haven't heard from Joel. He's stuck in your head like a virus, unable to think of anything else. This is the longest you've gone without talking. It's taking its toll on you, making you fidgety and jumpy, irritated by the simplest things. You've reached your breaking point and you're ready to call him, just to see if he's OK.

And, if you're honest with yourself, to give him a chance to make a move. He might think you don't want him to reach out. That thought makes you even more angry, you sound so pathetic in your head, begging for a man's attention. A man who has never made his intentions clear. You should stand up for yourself, hold your own.

You're at the office, shuffling through your bag, looking for your phone, still debating whether to call him. As you reach deep into your bag, searching through the million things you stuff in there, you feel a hard, papery thing on your fingertips. You fish it out and see that it's Marcus' card. You don't even remember putting that thing in there. But you remember him giving it to you.

He was such a gentleman and so thoughtful that night. He didn't ask for your number and he didn't press to put his on your phone. He gave you his card, clearly stating that he hoped you would get in touch with him.

"..why don't you give Marcus a real chance?.."

You take a deep breath and unlock your phone.

"..You cannot wait for him forever.."

This is it.

"..You deserve to be happy.."

You're going to call him. Right now? Yes, right now.

He picks up after the third ring.

"Agent Pike.", his voice deep and smooth, runs like honey in your ears. You remember how much you liked the sound of it.

You’re taken aback for a moment, you'd almost forgotten what he did for a living. It was strange but interesting to hear him like that, it stirred something in you. "Uh- um-" you lose your train of thought for a second, "hi- I don't know if you rememb-"

Marcus says your name instantly, the surprise evident in his tone. "I was beginning to think you'd either lost my card or I'd made a terrible, terrible first impression on you," he says with a soft laugh, vulnerability coloring his voice.

"No, no, god- no, nothing like that.. It was really nice to meet you!" you reassure him, because it really was.

"Yeah, you too.." Marcus replies and you can hear the smile in his voice. He doesn't say anything else, giving you time to collect yourself.

"I just-" you squeeze your eyes shut, trying not to freak out, pinching the bridge of your nose with your fingers, you hadn't planned this, "I've been really busy, with work and the kids, I haven't had a chance to..." the words catch in your throat as you think of the real reason you've been busy.

Obsessing over unavailable men.

But you don't want to lie to Marcus, he's been so kind and open, so you pause, looking for a way out of the hole you've dug yourself into.

"Hey, it's OK," Marcus takes the lead, sensing your discomfort, "you didn't have to call, but I'm really glad you did. I thought about getting your details from Trish in case you lost my number, but then I didn't want to force you into anything in case you didn't lose my number, you know?" he laughs timidly.

"Yeah, I know; that is so thoughtful of you. I'm- I'm glad I called." It feels strange to admit something like that, something so small, to be honest, to be so open and talk about positive things, to make someone feel good with your words on a personal level. You've spent the last few years just doing it for your daughters, loving them, hyping them up, rooting for them, but it's a change that you welcome and you discover that you really, really missed it.

There's a short silence on the other end, which makes you feel anxious, so you decide not to bother him any more. "I'm sorry I called during office hours, I-"

"No, no, no, don't even think about it, there are no office hours at my line of work anyway, so.." Marcus rushes to put you at ease. "I was just wondering if I should ask you out or if I'm jumping the gun," he blurts out and you can feel his hesitation through the phone.

"Well," you try to lighten the mood, "you're the one asking questions for a living, so why don't you earn your keep?" you bite your lower lip in anticipation and then snicker to yourself. You hear Marcus laughing, amused and impressed by your little stunt, and you have a deep desire to hear it again, knowing that it's your doing.

Marcus is not one to shy away from a challenge, so he delivers quite brilliantly. "It would give me great pleasure if you would go out with me," he says your name softly at the end, "I know it can be tricky with the girls and work and all that, but I'm sure we could work something out; my office hours are very flexible," he informs you, cleverly covering all your possible obstacles.

"I thought you didn't have office hours..." you return playfully, feeling lighter already, the thought of Joel still lingering, but the pain of it fading in your heart.

"For you I do." Marcus deadpans with an amazing ability to not make it sound cheesy. And you know exactly what kind of ability it is.

The one of honesty.

Your heart is in your mouth. You're sure of it. You can taste your heartbeat on the tip of your tongue. As much as you've tried to play it down, you're nervous, your stomach is in knots. You spend most of the evening whining to Trish on the phone, freaking out about what to wear and ending up with a "What does it matter anyway? It's one date and that's it, he's not sticking around. Yeah, he's not. I'm good, I'm fine, this is fine." you shrug as you look at yourself in your bedroom mirror.

Trish's voice brings you back to reality, "None of that, everything's going to be fine, you're going to have a good time and you're going to keep having a good time." You looked sideways at the phone as if Trish could see you through it, glancing at the time. "Ok Trish, thanks for the pep talk, but I have to go or I'll be late."

"Sure thing babe, have a great night-"

"Thanks Trish-" you speak over her voice sure she's done with the pleasantries, but-

"-and don't forget to fuck 'im."

The line goes dead before you can reply.

Jesus Christ.

"You got this. You got this. You got this," you chant to yourself, pacing the living room, checking the time on your phone every thirty seconds. "Yeah," you exhale with nervous conviction, "you got this." The doorbell rings and your stomach clenches. Conviction my ass, "No, you don't." you mutter before rushing to answer the door.

Your heels click on the wooden floor and you pin the hem of your dress down once more, just to be sure. It wasn't terribly short, but still, you haven't dressed for a date in God knows how long.

You open the door and your breath catches in your throat. But you could say the same about Marcus. You look at one another for a moment, both admiring each other. He looks sharp, clean-shaven, with a prominent jawline that makes you want to suck on it from side to side.

His hair is combed back and slightly to the side. He looks so handsome and then he smiles at you. A real smile, big and toothy and bright and beautiful. His eyes crinkle and his plush lips stretch with the force of it. His suit is elegant and clean, neatly pressed, and the two top buttons of his shirt are undone, showing a hint of his tanned chest, making it more casual.

"Hey.." Marcus speaks first, pulling himself out of his haze. His eyes drink you in, unable to land on one spot, admiring your simple but elegant black dress that stops mid-thigh, the softness of your exposed skin, the curves of your body and the features of your face.

"Hi..." you say back shyly, noticing his admiration.

"I- Christ-", he stutters almost confused.

"What's wrong?" you fidget with the fabric of your dress, your nerves getting the better of you once again.

"I almost forgot how beautiful you are-" Marcus admits, his eyebrows raised, a hint of pink spreading across his cheeks. "-you look amazing," he compliments, raising his arm and pointing his open palm in your direction.

You pray that you can fast-forward to the actual date and stay right here on the threshold of your house at the same time. "Oh, thank you -" you reply quietly, with a shy smile on your lips.

"These-" Marcus raises his other hand, suddenly remembering what he's holding, "these are for you," he hands you a beautiful bunch of flowers, obviously made specifically for you by a florist, wrapped in a beautiful ribbon. What is it about this man that turns the most clichéd things into thoughtful actions?

"These are so beautiful, thank you, let me-" you point towards the house so you can put them in a vase, signaling him to come in with your head.

"Hope it's not too much..", Marcus wonders as he enters the hall of the house.

"It's perfect," you smile warmly as you return from the kitchen with the filled vase and place it on the entryway furniture, admiring the arrangement. You place the palm of your hand on his bicep, reassuring him as you turn to leave.

His eyes shine with appreciation as he takes your palm in his warm hand, planting a soft kiss on the pulse point of your wrist. His scent fills your nostrils, sweet and masculine, and you can almost smell his shampoo as he leans forward. Your lips part and your eyes widen at the intimate contact, but instead of feeling pressured, all you want is for him to do it again on any part of your skin he likes. His plush lips are warm and soft, leaving the slightest trace of moisture as they part your skin, sending a wave of shivers through your body.

You stifle a gasp but you can't hide the dilation of your irises and he can't hide the hunger behind his. He cups your cheek in his hand, stroking your cheekbone with his thumb. "Ready?" he asks in a hushed tone.

"As I'll ever be."

The drive is bathed in bits of small talk and comfortable silence, appreciating each other's presence without having to fill the quiet of the cabin every second. Marcus' gaze is split between the road ahead and you at his side. He drives with one hand, his right resting comfortably on the gearbox.

God, you're such a cliché, noticing the way his broad palm rests there, the veins bulging between his fingers and on his hand and it makes you squirm in your seat. Your date hasn't even started yet and you're already feeling uncomfortable in your underwear. Are you that needy? Or is it him? Is he doing this to you?

Joel.

No, stop. Don’t think about him. Not right now. Stop.

Joel.

No.

Joel.

NO.

You don't realize you're holding your breath until Marcus is asking if you're all right.

"What?" you snap out of your haze, jerking your head to look at him. He looks worried, his forehead forming a deep crease between his eyebrows. "I lost you there for a minute, what happened?"

"Nothing, nothing, I'm fine."

"You don't gotta do that, you know."

"Do what?"

"Say you're fine. You're allowed not to be."

You start to contradict him, but then you realize he's right.

"You're right," you admit, looking at him sheepishly. "I'm just nervous- and it's not your fault-" you hasten to explain, "I just haven't done this in so long that it feels like it's happening to someone else, like I'm watching myself from a distance."

He smiles at you knowingly and you add frustratedly, "That's so uncool, I'm sorry, I should be-"

"Moment of truth?" Marcus cuts you off before you can finish your thought.

"Um- OK?"

"I'm already hooked." he bites his lip, stealing a glance in your direction, his shoulders shrugging as if he had just told you the most natural thing in the world.

"Excuse m-" you look at him in bewilderment.

"I know I should play hard to get and do all the stuff everyone does on a first date, act cool and whatnot," he gestures in the air with his free hand, "but really? I'm hooked. Captivated. So-" he takes a deep breath, exhaling forcefully, "if anyone should be anything, it's me, scared that I'm going to screw this up, somehow. But you know what?" he looks at you expectantly, waiting for a response.

"What?" you manage to croak, your whole body buzzing with anticipation.

"I'm going to choose to enjoy this night by being myself-" he stops and scrunches his eyes in thought, "-well, ok, I'm going to hold back a bit," he jokes playfully, making you both laugh at that, relieving some of the tension and he takes your hand in his, squeezing it gently, "because I don't know if I'll get another chance. I can only hope that at the end of the night you'll choose to see me again."

He brings your intertwined hands to his lips and kisses your knuckles tenderly. He's said all the right things, everything you want to hear and dear God, he makes you want to climb him like a tree. You bite your lower lip so hard you're afraid you'll draw blood.

He studies your face and your fluttered expression for a moment, a smile of accomplishment painted on his perfect mouth, before he adds, "And you shouldn't be anything other than what you want to be. Neither of us should."

The date was not what you expected, because it was actually a success. Zero awkwardness, lots to talk about, mutual humor and gentle glances. You started with dinner in a not-too-casual-not-too-formal restaurant and ended up in a great bar, lively but not too loud, where you had delicious cocktails over and over again. Not Marcus though, because he was driving. So responsible, you wanted to sink your teeth into his neck.

Marcus was truly interested in you. He asked you about everything, he really wanted to know about your life. You didn't delve much into the divorce and he didn't push it. But you told him more about your background, your work, your daughters, the challenges of being a single mother and to your surprise, he listened. Actively. When you told him it was his turn to spill the beans, he told you about his job and his specialty; his move to Texas for a fresh start and when you asked him why he felt he needed one, he reluctantly told you about proposing to his girlfriend of two months.

"I know, I know-" he raises his hand in defence as he shakes his head in disbelief, "I don't know what the hell I was thinking, I guess-" he looks down at his empty glass as if searching for answers, "sometimes I have a hard time letting things go."

He dares to meet your eyes through his lashes, to study your reaction. But your expression is neutral, no judgment on your part. "But I'm working on it, letting things happen naturally, you know? If it's meant to be, it's meant to be." he shrugs casually.

"That must be hard for you to deal with." you observe.

"Why would you think that?" he seems curious to know what you think of him, smiling crookedly.

"You strike me as someone who really tries to work things out, to fix what's broken. You don't give up easily, do you?"

His eyes bore into yours as he confirms, "No, I don't," smirking at you. You break eye contact and look down at your lap, biting back a smile of your own.

Suddenly you hear your name being called and you scan the room to find the source. You see Tommy just a few meters away, coming towards you to say hello. Marcus looks between the two of you, his eyes finally landing on yours, catching your faltering smile. "Hey, Tommy, how are you?" you hug him gently and then introduce the two men.

"Hi, nice to meet you." Tommy holds out his hand as Marcus extends his own, "You too."

"Who's the lucky girl this time, Tommy?" you tease with a devilish grin as you wink at him.

"The lucky girl is actually my brother." Tommy laughs breathlessly and your face immediately falls as he points his thumb behind him.

Joel is there at the other end of the bar, sitting on a table, his gaze fixed on you, his whole posture stiff, his jaw clenched and his eyes hard on you. You raise your arm weakly and wave at him, and he nods back sternly.

Marcus misses absolutely none of this.

How long had they been there? How much did he see? Did you do anything inappropriate? you keep checking yourself for any flawed behavior. But then you realize that you don't have to answer to him or anyone else. You can do as you please. So why do you keep hoping you haven't let him down?

"You wanna join us? There's plenty of room, come on.", Tommy invites you to their table.

You feel your legs give out just at the thought of this gathering and you try to decline politely, "We wouldn't want to impose, it's OK-"

Tommy gives you a confused look, as if you haven't spent the best part of the last two years hanging out together. "What the hell are you talking about, love? Come on, move that ass of yours." he waves his head in their direction. You glance swiftly from Tommy to Marcus and then back to Tommy, hoping he'll get the message, but he doesn't. Damn it, Tommy.

Marcus notices your apprehension and puts the palm of his hand on your forearm, caressing your skin with his thumb.

"Are you OK? Do you want to go instead?" he says in a quiet voice, just for you to hear.

You almost jump at his suggestion, "No, no, I just don't want you to think I'm not having a good time with you…" you lower your eyes, feeling vulnerable.

"Hey, hey, look at me." Marcus lowers his head to meet your gaze, "I think I'd know if this date was going south. But if for some reason it is and I'm too smitten to see it, I'm all ears." Marcus searches your eyes and you shake your head with conviction.

"It's not," is all you say, and you lean forward to place a kiss on his cheek, on the side of his face that is hidden from Joel's inspection. As if that would make what you just did any less obvious. Marcus' lips part, and he turns his head sideways to look at your profile, almost brushing it with his own.

His eyes linger on your mouth as you lean back to your seat, and then he licks his lower lip like a starving man preparing for his favorite meal. "Let's go meet your friends before I do something impulsive," he whispers in your ear, his grip on your arm tightening, his nose pressing against your temple and his lips brushing your earlobe.

Goosebumps spread across your skin and you have half a mind to get the fuck out of here and drag him back to your house. But instead you giggle like a schoolgirl and lead the way to hell, feeling the warmth of his hand on your lower back and the moisture of your pussy running down your thigh.

If a person could combust out of stillness, it would be Joel. You're not even sure he's breathing at this point. You train your eyes on his chest, trying to follow the rise and fall of his rib-cage, just to make sure he doesn't faint.

He's sitting directly opposite you, next to his brother, who's sitting opposite Marcus. He's nursing a beer with one hand, the other behind Tommy's seat. He barely speaks to you, he avoids looking at you and that makes you feel like you’re doing something wrong and he's giving you the cold shoulder. It takes everything you've got to swallow the lump in your throat and the tears behind your eyes, but you do it.

The same waitress who took your previous orders comes back and asks what you and Marcus are having. You order a beer, and before Marcus can place his own, Joel spits, "If you're driving her back, you shouldn't be drinking," giving him a disapproving look.

Your cheeks flush with embarrassment, your eyes dart from the waitress to Joel and then to Marcus, ready to apologize on his behalf. You knew Joel could be abrasive, but never so blatantly rude. Those were the first words he said to him.

Jesus, what is his problem?

Marcus seems to be able to handle his own, answering to you instead of Joel without missing a beat. "Good to know you have such protective friends," he says with a twinkle in his eye and then he orders, "I'll have the same as before, thank you.", shifting his gaze to the waitress. "One soda with a slice of orange coming up," she says politely and leaves to get your drinks.

You glare at Joel, but he doesn't seem to be paying attention, although he flinched almost imperceptibly when he heard Marcus' choice of drink. Marcus gives you a gentle kiss on the temple and you begin to suspect that he knows exactly what's going on between you and Joel, whose jaw is twitching at the sight of Marcus' public display of affection towards you.

You envy Tommy at the moment because he seems blissfully unaware, so you turn the conversation to him. Or at least you try, because as soon as you open your mouth to speak, Joel cuts you off and asks Marcus what he does for a living.

You can't help but think that after your first meeting in that god’s forsaken bar, it took him months to strike up a conversation with you, but tonight, for some reason, he just can't seem to shut up.

Marcus, being as polite as ever, gives him the general answer that he works for the government.

"Ah, a white collar," Joel replies condescendingly and your eyes bulge out of their sockets, "must be nice, relaxed." still not looking at you and God does he tick you off. Tommy shifts uncomfortably in his seat, stealing glances at you, not sure what's going on. In any other case you would have found it endearing. Not so much now.

You too are squirming in your seat, trying to think of a way out of this awkward situation. This is not how you imagined your first date would end. And it's certainly not how you expected to meet Joel after all these weeks.

Marcus seems unfazed by the veiled hostility coming his way, smiling back at Joel, almost enjoying the antagonism. "Not necessarily, but I can't talk about it either." This catches Joel's attention and he looks at you questioningly for the first time. You tilt your head slightly to the side, signaling what are you doing? but Joel takes his eyes off you, sipping his beer nonchalantly.

"What about you? What do you do for a living?" Marcus returns the question.

"We're contractors, me and Joel; we're brothers," he gestures between himself and Joel, "and we work together." Tommy chimes in quickly, having reached his limit of awkwardness at the table. You breathe a sigh of relief, but it's not long lived.

"And how do you all know each other?" is the next natural question to come out of Marcus' mouth.

Joel's eyes land on you briefly, something flashes past them and before you can stop him-

"She and I actually met in a bar..." Joel smirks at Marcus, but you speak at the same time-

"Joel-" Your voice is firm as a warning, fully accepting that your tone might be alarming to your unsuspecting company.

"What?" Tommy's voice falters, laughing uncomfortably, completely at a loss. Marcus reads the table, his eyes darting between the three of you, at the same time placing a protective hand over your shoulder, rubbing soothing circles with his thumb.

"What?" Joel repeats in a different tenor to his brother and he shrugs, smiling, "It's no big deal, tell them," he has the audacity to put you on the spot, nodding his chin at you.

You feel the contents of your stomach move up your esophagus, cold sweat coats your skin in a thin layer. Betrayal. That's all you can think of. "Uh-", you try to find the words, but nothing comes out, betrayal, you're not good at it, lying doesn't come easy to you, betrayal, especially with three sets of eyes on you. Joel just sits there with a smug look on his face and you wish you had the guts to slap it out of him.

Betrayal.

Marcus' voice brings you back to the present, are you all right?, a soft whisper caresses your ear and soothes your insides. The bile in your throat begins to return to its rightful place, but your eyes are already moist, your waterline glassy, a look of defeat and disappointment painted on your soft face. Joel sees it all written on those contours of yours that he has come to know and marvel at from afar, and it is as if a sudden realization hits him, snapping him out of his asshole behavior. He is cruel to you.

"All right, all right," he rolls his eyes and continues with a sigh, and Tommy's eyes return to his brother, but Marcus' remains fixed on you. "We met in a bar and we had a heated..." he stops abruptly and your face takes on a look of horror as he searches for the right word. "...argument." Joel finally adds. "We exchanged a few words, but then we ran into each other at my cousin's house and the rest is history." he laughs as he waves his hand in the air and winks at you.

You bite your lower lip as hard as you can to keep your chin from trembling, but a single tear of relief or suppressed anger, you're not sure anymore, escapes from the side of your face that only Joel can see, as you give him a forced, watery smile.

Luckily the bar is dimly lit, otherwise they would all be able to see the redness spreading across your chest, the rage manifesting itself on your body. Used and played is how you feel, and Joel is the last person you would have thought would put you in this position. You'd bet all your money on it.

"Why didn't you say anything?" Tommy wonders aloud, looking between you and Joel. You clear your throat and have no choice but to confirm Joel's lie. "It felt awkward at the time, so we pretended we didn't know each other. It was an unfortunate moment, one I deeply regret," you lock eyes with Joel and see his facade almost crumbling, "that will never recur, ever again." you continue to stare at him as you speak the last words with concealed bitterness. For the first time that night, he looked down at his lap in shame and regret, pretending to peel the label off his bottle with his thumb.

The ride home was silent, you were emotionally drained, something Marcus picked up on easily, so he simply offered his open palm, which you gladly accepted, tucking your fingers between his own. He continued to caress your skin, back and forth, and it was all you needed to calm your nerves.

As he walked you to the front door of your house, you felt compelled to apologize to him in a profound way. "I'm so sorry about Joel," you shake your head, looking down at your feet, your fingers scratching your forehead, a worried look on your face, "he can be intense sometimes -" why are you defending him?

Marcus lifts your chin with a gentle finger under it, his thumb caressing your jawline. "I don't care about Joel." With one simple sentence, he has erased him from your conversation. No more room for him to steal any longer of your night with Marcus.

“But-”

“I'm the one standing on your porch right now am I not?”, the implication clear in his voice and words.

“I'm not sure what-” you try to avoid confirming or denying his assumptions.

"Mhm," he smiles knowingly, his eyes fixed on yours, searching for something. You feel safe with him, but you can't shake the feeling that you've ruined everything. Marcus' eyes drop to your lips and he slowly leans forward, stopping just inches from you, waiting for you to initiate. You can feel yourself unable to relax, your body stiff, frozen. But you want to, you really do, so you ask instead, "Are you going to do something impulsive now?"

He smiles and leans even closer to your lips, his breath gently fanning across your plump skin. His nose gently nudges yours, "Yes, I think I might."

Your lips almost touch when a muffled voice followed by loud barks startles you both, causing you to pull away and look around for the source of the disruption. After a few seconds, you both see a medium-sized dog running down the street. You wait to see if its owner follows, but no one appears. You turn to look at each other, giggling at the strange interruption.

Marcus caresses your cheek with the back of his knuckles and you lean into his touch, the moment gone and lost. "I hope you had a decent time because I know I had a great one and I really hope I get to see you again."

"Marcus," you scowl at him, "are you fishing for compliments?" you chastise him teasingly.

"Well, a man can dream," he smirks playfully as he tries to get some distance between you in case he comes on too strong.

"You don't have to," you coo, grabbing his collar to crush your lips against his.

After the initial shock, Marcus holds your head in his hands, tilting it to return the kiss and deepen it. His soft lips massage yours, sucking and nibbling at your lower lip. His upper lip and tongue capture yours, tugging gently, sending waves of pleasure through your body. He licks into your mouth, exploring every soft cavity, and you suck on his tongue in return.

He grunts into your welcoming cavern and you fist the fabric of his shirt that adorns his chest tighter. He presses his body into yours, trying to keep his pelvic area from pressing into your lower abdomen, but you can feel his growing erection inescapably.

You come up for air and murmur into his mouth, "I had a great time and I'd like to do it again".

This time it is he who presses his mouth to yours, kissing you fervently, sucking all the air out of your lungs. Your body is on fire, your abdomen tingling with desire.

You whimper against his lips as you reach for the short curls at the back of his neck, tugging them gently between your fingers, causing him to growl against your wet flesh, and he can feel your nipples poking at his chest through the thin material of your dress as you press your torso against his in sheer determination.

He's sure he's going to lose it and fuck you in front of your house for all your neighbors to see if he doesn't stop now. He breaks the kiss, panting, his eyes boring into yours, your foreheads touching. "Christ, woman," he closes his eyes and laughs to himself, "you're going to give me a heart attack."

"Better me than old age, right?" you try to hide your teasing smile behind your tightly pressed lips.

"Hey, I'm about to arrest you for threatening a government official," he warns without any conviction or authority.

"Are you going to handcuff me, Agent?" you ask, looking at him through your lashes and it comes out more breathless than it should.

"Jesus." Marcus mutters through his teeth, his resolve hanging by a thread. "OK." he gives you a sharp look, "I'm going to leave for the sake of both of us," he says, but his grip on your hip tightens, as if he's afraid you'll disappear.

"You could come in, you know," you offer, looking at him sheepishly.

His expression is pained when he has to turn you down. "And I'd like nothing more, but I want to do this right. Please, let me do this right." Marcus pleads softly, rolling his forehead over yours in desperation.

"What does that even mean?" you ask, a bit embarrassed by his rejection.

"Means I want to wine and dine you, spoil you, give you the perfect date," he coos into the soft skin beneath your ear, making you shudder at his soft promise. "And when you think you can't go another second without my touch, then I'll come in and spoil you some more," he continues, brushing his moist lips along the pillar of your neck. "I will spoil you in all the ways you deserve." he finishes, planting an open-mouthed kiss on your pulse point under your jaw. Your knees buck and your pussy contracts, squeezing out your sweetness at the feel of his warm and wet tongue.

"OK," you breathe out in a shaky voice, nodding dumbly, cupping his face in your hands and planting a small kiss on the tip of his nose.

He smiles and presses his lips to your forehead murmuring "God, you're something," and his heart swells at your tender gesture.

Marcus takes a deep breath, pauses and seems hesitant, but speaks his mind anyway. "OK, I'm going to skip the whole 'three day rule' and call you tomorrow. Is that OK?" he looks anxiously into your eyes, "Am I rushing you?"

A spontaneous laugh escapes your lips at the sound of that. "I just invited you into my house, you think a phone call is going to rush me?" you frown, "You can call me whenever you want.", you say matter of factly. You turn to leave, but change your mind and face him again. "Actually," you bite your lip mischievously, "I need to make sure I can rely on the American authorities, so I'm counting on your word. I'll be expecting a call by tomorrow," you stifle a grin by pressing your lips together.

"Yes, ma'am." Marcus nods in amusement and gives you one last kiss, pressing his lips to yours for as long as he can before ushering you into the house. "Good night," he breathes against your lips.

"Good night," you whisper back with a shy smile and close the door behind you. Marcus walks to his car with a stupid grin plastered on his face, gets in and drives away, but not before making sure you have closed and locked your front door.

In the stillness of the night, Joel takes a moment to assess the situation and satisfied that the coast is clear, he carefully emerges from the large bush he was hiding behind.

He glances down at his dog pissed shoe and mutters to himself,

"Fuck."

previous |

[loveanddeephistory]

Trowels and Feathers: Sylus x Archaeologist! Reader

On Ao3

About: A heist at your latest excavation has you taking matters into your own hands. You're no Indiana Jones, you can't go in guns blazing. But a little birdy told you that the most notable artifact from the site might end up being auctioned off at The Nest. So you pull some strings, show up, and land yourself in a web much larger you had ever anticipated. Lucky you, a little birdy was watching your back.

Spoilers for: Sylus's anecdote

Content warnings/heads up: Reader is implied to be female or feminine due references to misogyny within the field of archaeology that the reader has faced, Sylus is a bit intimidating at first (as per usual), mentions of being drugged (not by Sylus), swearing

Word Count: 12k

A/N: Happy birthday to our favorite repatriating space pirate! I told my younger sibling about Sylus's anecdote and they just asked me "what the fuck kind of otome is this". We love him, though <3. I'll be updating Trowels and Scales with the tag "Trowels Series" since all the guys will have at the very least a one shot!

Divider credit: @thecutestgrotto

Never waste a Friday night on a first date. Never waste a night off on a place you don't want to be in. Don't do anything stupid. And if you do have to do something stupid, don't get caught. And if you do get caught, aim for the groin.

All sound advice your many mentors had given you. Through undergrad, grad school, field experiences, and even as a seasoned professional. From dating advice, to life advice, to street smarts. These people had taught you everything. And yet here you are, throwing all of their words out the damn window. Here you are, dolled up in clothes you'd never wear, shoes you'd never wear, in a place you shouldn't be in, glistening with sweat as low music bumps through the club. The main event would begin soon. You lean your back against the bar, eyes trained on the room before you. You had already been approached for protocore sales. For smuggling, for illegal weapons. You turn them all down with an impassive, slow once over and a slow eyebrow raise.

You were lucky. Most public information about you featured a picture of you all gunked up, covered in dirt, sweat, and bug bites. Your professional photos reserved for resumes and CVs that would never come across the desk of any of these kinds of people. You were unrecognizable. What a blessing to be in disguise.

You slowly drink on your mocktail, eyes scanning the room once again as the music slowly came to an end. Being inebriated would not be in your best interests, you figured you'd be safer with something that looked like alcohol but wasn't. You spotted an odd man with purple hair side eyeing you before silently slipping out a side door. A blond man was hunched over a table in the corner, speaking in hushed tones with someone else. Until finally, finally, the real show began.

A large man came to the stage. Six foot something or other, heavy set, with a wide grin missing a few teeth. The lights brightened on the stage so everyone around could see him. He was handed a microphone, and two armored guards came to the stage with a box. 

"Ladies and gentleman, so wonderful to see you all at The Nest once again. I hope everyone had a good hunt last time." He chuckled, raising a glass to the patrons in the room. You silently raise yours in turn along with those present. "Tonight we have the fortune of hosting an auction. I and some other generous benefactors found this pretty little trinket off in the jungle somewhere." The box was opened. An ancient, beautiful necklace was revealed. Glittering with gemstones ten times the age of everyone in this room combines. You run your tongue over your teeth, desperately suppressing a scowl.

Thieves. Disgusting thieves.

Others in the room chuckled at the unspoken joke in the man's words. Found. Hardly. You found it. You were the one excavating the ancient trash site. What was thought to be a place where broken things would come to rest. But hidden, squirreled away, was a cache of the most beautiful local work you had ever seen. You remember it like it was yesterday.

You gently scrape with the edge of your trowel over a layer of mud after the most recent rain. While you had secured the site as best you could the downpour was stronger than anticipated. The locals warned you, all of you. But your higher ups insisted that the normal way to cover the site would be just fine. Of course, he was wrong. Like he usually was. You roll your eyes to yourself, working quietly with your partner on this unit of the trench while others worked on other one by one meter units to your right and left. 

Usually, you all would be chattering away. Taking notes, discussing soil, or sharing personal stories of friends, family, and other excavations. But this dig was different. You couldn't remember the last time you worked for someone so chauvinistic. The entire team was quiet. Too quiet. The women on the team would speak up for themselves and each other, but were too often silenced. The men on the team would step in and speak up, only to be threatened anyway. No one was safe with this guy. So you made a silent vow with the whole crew. As soon as you were all safely away from him, every single one of you would report him to his superiors. And if that didn't work, taking things public would be necessary.

You dump a trowel full of mud into your bucket, sighing. "My turn to screen." But before you could get up your partner does, flashing you a smile.

"You pitched in with clean up after dinner last night, I think I can spare the time to screen for you." She stands up, grabbing both your bucket and her own. You watch as she carries them to the three metal poles holding up a mesh screen situated in a square wooden frame. The wires inside of the wooden frame created a fine mesh grid. She pours the sediment on top and grabs the handles, beginning to vigorously shake the sediment through while any notable artifacts remained on top. You flash her an appreciative but weary smile, bending back down. You continue to gently scrape along with your trowel. Until something shiny catches your eye. 

A few specks of metal dated to be a few centuries old had been found here. That was why this excavation was opened. Shattered pottery, household goods, and animals bones indicated this was a trash site for the local village n some centuries ago. You and a few colleagues immediately reached out. Luckily, quite a few of them had some information from elders dating centuries back. It wasn't much, but it did give you some context to the area. You squint, focusing on the shiny thing you found, switching to a brush as you gently swiped away mud and debris. But in the back of your mind, an older woman's words rang in your mind.

An old legend, passed down by elders for years. A young woman from a noble family had been married in this town. But robbers came in the night, and tried to take her wedding jewels. She managed to escape, and buried her wedding jewelry in a trash heap. She settled in the village with her husband and forgot the jewels, her husband and growing family more important. The old woman asked you to find the wedding jewels, that they would be inscribed with the family name. The woman had pleaded, clinging to your sleeve.

You had been taught to be wary of stories. But oral traditions had its place. You didn't want to make assumptions. But you gently wiped away millimeter after millimeter. Keeping the unit level. Clipping roots, shooing away bugs. And slowly, that tiny glimmer got bigger. And bigger. And bigger. You sat in slack jawed shock. Silent. With steady but weary hands, you gently lifted the artifact from the ground. You pull out a handkerchief and gingerly wipe away the packed on mud. There, clear as day, was the family name of the elderly woman. You feel the gaze of your fellow archaeologists, to your left and right. There were no gasps. No fanfare. But the excitement was tangible. You gently tilt the necklace, and it caught in the light in the most hypnotizing way. 

You don't say a word. No one else does. No one needs to. A young man to your right stands up, fetching an artifact bag. He labels it with your unit and the date, and what level the necklace was in. He opens it and you gingerly slide it in. Even covered in mud and muck, you all knew it was the most beautiful thing you had ever laid eyes on. An ancient necklace buried deep in the ground, revealed due to the multiple monsoons of the past few years.

You take the moment to smile wearily. You wipe your forehead with the clean(ish) side of your handkerchief, the low glow of pride washing over you once more. It had been dampened by your horrific supervisor, but he could never take the joy of a discovery away from you. Especially one tied to local lore. You could only imagine the glee that woman and her family will feel. The village, with all of its history, had a local museum. This piece would be perfect there, right where it belongs. Away from the robbers of old, it was finally safe to be seen by the world once more.

The following night proved you horrifically wrong.

There had been a safe location allocated by the company that had been contracted for this excavation. Somewhere to store equipment and any notable finds. But you woke up the following morning to a horrifying scene. Equipment broken. Some missing. The safe housing the more significant finds, like the necklace, with a hole in it and all of the contents gone. Soil samples? Thrown on the ground and mixed together. Documentation? Ripped to shreds. This wasn't meant to be some high profile theft.

This was an outright massacre.

You and your team called an emergency meeting with the officials and elders of the village. The chaos that ensued broke your heart. The very elderly woman who had held your sleeve, begging you to believe her, was openly weeping when told the necklace had been stolen. The village was traditional- the only place with cameras was the museum itself, and even they were long overdue for upgraded equipment. No one was awake. No one saw or heard anything.

The artifacts were gone. Just... gone. 

The excavation ended the very next day. The site had been too far compromised. The excavation site itself had not been discovered by the thieves, yet, so local law enforcement set up a watch. You and the others immediately replaced the sediment, and come next rainfall all evidence of your presence will be erased from this place.

It gnawed at you. The image of the village elders weeping, or yelling. Begging, asking who did this, who could have done this. And none of you knew.

You returned to Linkon. But sleepless nights stared at you. You had other jobs. You were paid in full for the last one given that this kind of thing was entirely out of your control. There was a museum that was wanting to hire you for some consulting. And a science journal was looking at one of your proposals, and you felt pretty confident about it. Not to mention you and a few buddies had applied for a grant in your preferred field of study. But that necklace. It ate away at you, and with each passing day you felt like less of a person not knowing what had happened. 

Feeling like you had failed them.

One of those sleepless nights you lay there, pressing the heels of your hands against your eyes. Trying to will yourself to sleep. But your phone vibrated before you could. You grumpily snatch your phone, about to put it on do not disturb. But it was an old friend in the field, a fellow archaeologists' mentor. Hannah Capek, or Dr. C as she was affectionately referred to.

It was an article about the prolific illegal antiquities trade in the N109 zone. You skim the article, feeling your blood boil even more with every word you read. The article claimed that a solid 87% of stolen or missing artifacts ended up in the N109 zone for this very trade. Auctions would be held at various auction houses or underground bars, sometimes in broad daylight. It was a lawless wasteland. Trying to follow up to retrieve the stolen good was a suicide mission. As soon as the artifact crossed that border, you're likely never going to see it again. Before you can stew in your own anger for too long Hannah sends a follow up text.

Dr. Hannah Capek: Don't beat yourself up, kiddo. You did the best you could. These statistics aren't great, but it shows it had nothing to do with you. You did everything right. Please don't lose any more sleep than you already have. This isn't your fault.

You stare at her message, tears stinging in your eyes. The weight of your own perceived failure crushing you in your bed. You open the article again, eyes skimming over some of the finer details. One hyperlink caught your eye. A wiki link. About Abyssal Chaos.

Abyssal Chaos. One of the most infamous portions of the dark web. People would pay others for any number of things, tasks, information... And it was one of the best sources of information for all things illegal. Of course, getting your foot in the door was nearly impossible. It was encrypted to high hell, and those who do manage to get in are subject to all kinds of cyber attacks, people finding their home address, stalking, doxxing... It was the wild west out there. The wiki had multiple stories of the horrific fates of a few users. But the more you skimmed through it, the more you felt intrigued.

You take a screenshot and send it to an old friend from high school. He was bullied pretty bad, but you stuck up for him. He always promised you that if you needed anything, call him. He's a techy guy now, makes some good money. 

But he got you exactly what you needed.

You sit up a little straighter. They had cleaned up the necklace beautifully. The detail work on the cleaning had the marks of a professional. The metal shone in the light as bright as it did on the day of its owner's wedding. As the man held up the necklace, you could see the back. The engraving of the family's name was still there.

"This one of a kind beauty was found out in the jungle in a trash heap. Local legend says a pretty little bride almost got mugged and hid them away." The man snickered, and a few other patrons laughed. "So some scientists dug them up again, and all these years later they got taken anyway. Oh well, beats them going to some foreign museum where they get written off as some exotic beauty, impossibly forged by the natives." Your grip around your glass tightens. You want to shout. No, that wasn't what was going to happen, you'd never allow it. They aren't exotic. It wasn't impossible for the local village all those years ago to know how to do such beautiful work. You're clenching your jaw so hard you can feel a muscle twitch.

Out of the corner of your eye you notice motion in your drink. You wait a few seconds before putting it down. You won't be taking another sip of it for the rest of the night. Instead you give the stage your full attention again. You tune out your anger and tune in to the man finally getting to the point. The auction. Everyone participating had a paddle. Like a professional, the man on stage began to call out numbers. Starting low, in the thousands. If you had to put a number on an artifact like this it would be somewhere in the millions due to its age, but in reality the history was what made it utterly priceless. You can't stop this from happening. You knew ahead of time calling in a tip on The Nest would get you on a hit list. So instead, you opted to come and get a good description of the thieves and potentially the buyer. If they had property or assets in Linkon or anywhere else outside of the N109 zone, then you could submit a real tip. And even if the necklace vanished, you could still achieve justice.

"Twenty-five hundred, I got twenty-five hundred can I get thirty, can I get thirty," The rapid fire words attempted to rile the crowd up. In spite of his best efforts, the crowd didn't seem all that impressed. Conversations struck back up among powerhouse couples. Lower crime lords went back to attempting to haggle a protocore smuggler for his wares. The man on stage kept looking to two others in the audience. They were close enough to the stage for the light to fall on their faces. They looked nervous.

Ah ha. 

You lift your hand to your mouth to hide a hint of a smirk. Bingo. Three thieves. The three must be in on it together one way or another. You drink in their appearances, every scar, every mole. Every easily notable body mark that would identify them. Steadily, the room returned to the murmur it had been in when you first arrived. No one was giving the man on stage the time of day. And it was beginning to make him sweat.

Good. You lean back, an impassive audience to his humiliation as a low voice rang out.

"Five million." 

Your shoulders tense. Your eyes widen. You look around, hoping you didn't just blow your cover. But lucky you, everyone in the room had the same reaction as you. Eyes and bodies slowly turned towards the newcomer, emerging from the shadows with slow, unhurried footsteps. He was tall, taller than the man on the stage. Broad shoulders. Strong, a fighter's build. You focus back towards the stage and the thieves in the front row. They were grinning but trying to hide them, smacking each other's arms in disbelief.

You've seen enough. You swivel back around in your seat, paying for your drink in a generous wad of cash. The bartender nods and takes the sizable offer, pocketing whatever wasn't needed for the drink. You stand up, weaving your way through the growing crowd who was staring at the intimidating figure now on stage. His silver hair caught in the light, but you couldn't make out anything more since his back was to you. But you don't need to. You have enough. Even if the necklace vanishes, you have enough to turn in the thieves themselves. It won't return the necklace to its rightful home but it'll be one less group to cause these kinds of problems.

You slip into an alleyway, finally taking a deep breath as you escaped the suffocating atmosphere of The Nest. The low lights, the lingering haze, the scent of smoke and sin lingered in that place. It clung to your clothes and your hair. You'd need a shower after this. You pull out your phone texting your old friend on an encrypted service.

You: Done. Thanks for the assist.

Anonymous: Ur welcome. Be careful, don't go straight home, just in case.

You turn off your phone and pocket it. You slowly begin to walk, heading towards the back of the building before deciding to go to Azure Square. But as you quieted your footfalls, moving quickly but quietly, a slow, gnawing sense of dread crawled up. From the heels of your feet. To the back of your knees. Slithering up to your thighs. Hips. Waist.

Slowly, this sense of dread coiled up your spine. Goosebumps erupted all over your skin, and you turn your head. Your eyes widen and a scream bubbles up in your throat as a black mist coiled around your mouth. Your scream is muffled. You lose control over your body as you're knocked over, dragged back into the alleyway as you struggle violently. But with each twitch, kick, and squirm the intangible shackles around you only tightened. You're pulled into the darkness of the alley once more when that deep, rich voice from earlier called out.

"I've never seen you at The Nest before." His voice was low. He spoke slowly, languidly. Like he could do this all day. Like you were in a game of cat and mouse, and he had already caught his prey. ”Don’t think I didn’t see you eyeing these new jewels, sweetie.” That same low, baritone voice from the auction caught your attention. The black mist around your mouth vanished as the man slowly walked towards you. In a flash of light you can barely make out red eyes that had an otherworldly glow. But he remained in the shadows, not letting you see his full face. "What are you?" He cocked his head. 

You know better. You do. You recall the advice of all your mentors. Don't do anything stupid. If you must, don't get caught. You've already failed both. And with your legs still bound you couldn't enact the last of their advice. You lick your lips, eyeing the man as you lay on the ground. You scoffed, looking away from him. “Just the person who found those jewels.”

“This isn’t finders, keepers, sweetie. I paid for these fair and square.” He approaches, still just barely out of view from the shadows. He tilted your chin up to face him again with the toe of his shoe. His right eye began to glow a deeper red. You suck in a breath, your head suddenly pounding in pain. It felt like someone had dug their fingers into your brain directly through your eyes. The probing was unwelcome and made your stomach churn.

“And those thieves that pawned them off to you stole them from an archaeological site! Those belong to their proper community.” You spat back. “I don’t want them. I want them to go back to where they do belong.” You say it without a second's hesitation. But it wasn't because of this probing. The sensation stopped for a second. The glow dimmed, before surging back. The prodding became less intense, but it still felt like someone was actively in your head. The mist around your wrists vanished, allowing you to slowly hoist yourself into a sitting position on the ground. He didn't speak. Neither did you. You swallow. Your legs were still bound in a black and red mist, but it didn't hurt. It was just a bizarre pressure. You slowly rub your wrists, waiting.

”I didn’t realize your kind were so… altruistic nowadays.” You scoffed at his response, looking away. He must've put two and two together. Your heart rate picked up. You just blew your cover to someone very powerful. So much for don't do anything stupid.

"Times have changed." You respond. "That doesn't belong to you, or me, or those thieves. You're right. This isn't finders keepers. We're not children." You look back down at your legs. The mist was slowly abating, retreating back to the man still standing in the shadows. He looks down at the necklace in his hands, and your gaze follows. His eye glowed for just a moment more, but with a soft hum you felt his presence leave your mind. You had never heard of anyone with an evol who could do such a thing. A shudder rips through you, from head to toe, and finally he turns on his heel.

"Times have changed, yes." He confirms, the steady footfalls from his dress shoes slowly fading into the distance as he returns to The Nest. You watch. You wait. And as soon as you knew he was gone, you scramble to your feet. Without another word, without another glance, you turn and run as fast as your legs will allow. Every single one of your old professors, mentors, colleagues... all of them would smack you upside the head for doing something so ballsy and stupid.

But favor and fortune shone down on you that night. You survived. You escaped. And now you can file an anonymous police report. For the sake of preserving your own life you decide on a whim to omit the presence of the man with silver hair. At this point, it wasn't fully about the necklace. It was about the principle, it was about the thieves. About justice.

That necklace didn't belong to you. Or him. Or the thieves, or the archaeologists.

It belonged to its home village. One you hoped it would survive to return home to.

Bzzt.

Bzzt.

Bzzt.

BZZT.

You slowly open your eyes, the constant vibrating from your phone drawing you out of slumber. It was five in the morning, and only the first few rays of light from the sun were breaching your window. You were tempted to put your phone on do not disturb and go back to sleep. You snatch it off your nightstand, ready to do exactly that when the messenger's name caught your eye. A friend you had made in the village you had just been working in. You sit up a little straighter, opening her messages.

The first thing that came up on your phone was a picture of the necklace. All cleaned up and glittering like it had just last night in that odd man's hands. It was in the museum, already in a safe case, with multiple signs in different languages. You exit the picture, hurriedly reading all of her messages. Someone in the middle of the night last night broke in to the museum. But they left the necklace. No note, no identification, nothing. As you were reading through her texts another text appeared on your screen. Hannah Capek.

You switch to her text. It was a news article. 

Breaking News: Artifact Smugglers Apprehended in the Night

Dr. Hannah Capek: Justice has been served! Sleep a little easier, okay? Some good samaritan ratted them out. 

You tap on the link. Unable to believe your eyes. But Hannah's words rung true. The article had been released only an hour ago from a journalist who worked at night. Three artifact smugglers had been turned in at the Evol Police's doorstep in the middle of the night, all three confessing to their many crimes in near tears. It was clear someone had scared them, but the confessions matched multiple recent robberies and smuggling operations documented all over the region. These guys were professionals. The police took them into custody and would be launching an investigation to verify what they said.

You sit up, your covers sliding off your body as you reread the article once. Twice. Thrice. No. No way.

You run your fingers through your hair, absolutely bamboozled by this change in events. You forward the pictures and context from your friend to Dr. Hannah, and then forward the link from Dr. Hannah to your friend. She immediately texts back. Gleeful, thanking you. You sit up straighter and rapidly text her not to. This wasn't your doing. You had nothing to do with those thieves showing up at the police department. You had nothing to do with the necklace reappearing. You wouldn't be able to even get there in a night!

Who could have done this? The man who bought it? He seemed the most likely suspect. But he paid five million for it, why would he turn around and give it back to the village? He said it himself, this isn't finder's keepers. You swing your legs over the side of your bed, standing up. You walk over to the curtains, peeking out beyond them. The sun was just rising. Whoever did this did it in the night, likely only a few hours ago. All of this was breaking news. Brand new. Something you hadn't seen in your career, or your lifetime.

Just who was that man?

It started with a blur just outside your peripheral vision. 

You were sure you were just paranoid after visiting The Nest. Exposing yourself on Abyssal Chaos and showing up in person at a well known information hub wasn't the brightest idea in hindsight. And yet, somehow, it got you the exact end results you were hoping for. You found yourself constantly looking over your shoulder for the next few weeks as you went about everyday life. And every once in a while, you would catch a black blur just out of line of sight. It was fast.

And finally, one day, you catch the bird in action.

You had left the window open just a crack to get some fresh air. It was a beautiful day, so you might as well give your home a refresh. You come out of your bedroom, trash bag in hand, and catch the culprit red handed. A red and black crow was sitting on your balcony, pecking at the window, as if trying to open it. You drop the bag. The crow stops. It's a stare off.

Neither of you move. You stare at the bird. The bird stares at you. An uncomfortable silence falls before you slowly reach for your phone. The bird cocks its head. Was- was its eyes glowing? You take a single step towards it, and it doesn't fly off. You open your phone and do a quick search. Or three.

Crow meaning omen

Crow safe foods

What do crows like to eat

You keep looking up an at the crow, who was still staring you down. Cocking its head. You find a list of crow safe foods and move to your kitchen. You fetch a small bowl and fill it with an assortment of small bits of food approved by bird professionals. You turn back around and find the crow still staring at you. The closer you got the more you saw of its robotic nature. 

"Poor thing." You murmur. You lift the window with one hand, reaching out onto your balcony before resting the bowl against a chair. "Here. It's not much, but it's something. You scared me, I thought someone was following me around all this time." Every time you saw something, it was up high, and quickly moved out of sight. It made perfect sense for it to be a bird. Nothing nefarious at all. "Did someone fix you up after a car hit you, or something?" You sit in your window sill, eyes trained on the bird. It cocks its head from side to side. Before slowly crooning at you. It hops over to the bowl provided and began to pick through the assortment. 

"I'll take that as a thank you. You're welcome." You nod, leaning back against the window frame. You scootch yourself in, pretzeling yourself into the window frame separating your apartment from your balcony. The crow seemed used to people and didn't bat an eye at your antics. You take the moment to admire the bird. The sheen of his feathers in the light revealed so many more colors than what was originally visible. "Pretty bird" You hum. The crow pops its head up, squawking in surprise. It was almost like it was flustered by the compliment. You can't help it, you cover your mouth as you laugh at him. The crow only grew more indignant. It cawed at you, sharp and raspy. 

"Hey! It's a compliment, take it!" You try to encourage it through your laughter, but the bird only seems more irritated. If a bird could scowl it certainly would. It grew tired of your antics and took off, diving off your balcony and flying away. You don't have a moment more to protest. Your eyes trail after the crow as it vanishes into the city, flying off and away. You reach out to the bowl, which only had a few things missing, and bring it back inside. "Oh well. There goes my dreams of being a Disney princess." You laugh to yourself, shutting the window behind you.

You figured that would be your first and last interaction with it. But you were pleasantly surprised.

Once a week, every week, the crow would return.

It became a routine. A habit. It would knock on your window with its beak, and you would join it on the balcony or in the window with a bowl of food. You eventually got good at recognizing its patterns and you would leave a little dish of water and food out before joining it. The first three weeks you sat in comfortable silence.

But the fourth, a month in to this strange situation, the crow brought you something.

Its caw was muffled. It held two items in its beak. You extend your hand slowly and the bird dropped the items in your hand before diving into the food. It had brought you a shiny twist tie, likely just some piece of trash, and a piece of paper. You had read that crows might bring gifts if befriended, so you immediately tie the twist tie around a finger like a ring. The bird lifted its head as you did so, and you extended your hand to show off the twist tie. 

"You have a good eye." You compliment, smiling cheekily. "I accept this proposal of friendship. Thank you for your generous gift." The crow cawed in affirmation, or you were interpreting it like that at the very least, and went back to eating. You turn your attention to the piece of paper. You unfold it. Mephisto. You look at the crow.

"Mephisto?" It immediately looked up again, mid nibble on a nut, and crooned. "Oh. That's your name, is it? Mephisto?" Mephisto bobbed his head. You laugh, looking down at the paper in awe. "Mephisto... Short for Mephistopheles. Whoever named you knows their Faustian mythology. And has nice handwriting." You pocket the paper, the crow bobbing his head again. "Well, Mephisto. It's nice to finally have your name. Guess I owe you mine." You lean in, whispering your name to the crow as if it was a precious secret only for the two of you to know. You pull back, grinning at the bird. Perhaps you shouldn't have discounted your disney princess dreams yet. "I've been enjoying seeing you every week, Mephie, but I'll be out of town starting next week." Mephisto squawked.

In a flurry of feathers he flew right at you. You hold up a hand and he settles on your fingers, chattering at you in protest. "Caw! Caw caw caw-"

"Mephisto- Mephie! I'm sorry, I have an excavation to go on. I can't just skip it." You try to assure the bird. "I'll be back. I promise, I'll come back." While crows were smart as could be, you weren't sure how much he could understand. You lift your free hand, not moving too fast, slowly approaching his head. The bird shut his eyes and headbutt your hand. You chuckle, stroking his feathers gently and carefully. "I promise, Mephie, I will come back. I'll be in the mountains for an excavation, that's all. It's for a month, I'll be back after that. I trust you can look after yourself, along with whoever else is caring for you." The crow crooned again, still protesting your incoming absence.

"Hey." You coo. "I'll bring your ring you gave me. That way I'll have something to look at and think about you while I'm gone, okay?" You murmur, showing him the twist tie he had just given you. Mephisto slowly opened his eyes, crooning mournfully once more. "Yeah, I'll be back. I'll be here next week for our weekly meet up. I just didn't want to spring this on you." You add, and he just looked at you. He clacked his beak, still balancing on your fingers. He flapped his wings a few times, and you extend your hand to give him space to spread them out. He cawed and released your fingers. As he flapped his wings, he made his way to the banister of your balcony. He tilts his head at you. You smile. He always does this. "Goodbye, Mephisto. I'll see you next week." You nod to him. With a caw, he turns and takes to the skies. 

Mephisto didn't appear the next week. You waited in the windowsill for hours, but he never appeared. You couldn't deny your disappointment, but you figured it was for the best. You focused on packing, and the next day you were gone.

This excavation was situated in the mountains. Though, luckily, your excavation was in a convenient clearing. After conducting a brief walking survey you and your crew got to work. You were lucky enough to have one of your colleagues from the last excavation on your team, so the two of you partnered up. You worked on your one meter by one meter unit together, worked with the total station, and he helped with bagging and tagging artifacts. He was always one of the guys who was quiet when your last supervisor was being a misogynistic piece of shit, but he was much more vocal at this one. Talkative, always wanting your attention. This excavation was much older than even your last one, and from context clues you and your team were thinking of it as a frequent place people stopped crossing the mountains for trade. Beads of various precious stones were found, and a few pieces of jewelry were still in tact.

The rest of the team was pausing for lunch, heading to a separate part of the clearing to overturn buckets and sit down to eat. You volunteered to stay behind and finish up some field notes, so they left you be to do so. You turn over an empty bucket and sit down, scribbling some notes about the recorded depth of trench one, unit six, which had a jade bead and a bracelet with similar beads at a depth of 40 centimeters. You describe your findings, the quality of jade, and the variety of soil present when you heard a rustling. You lift your eyes, expecting to find one of your colleagues coming to ask you something. But no one was there. Your eyebrows furrow, and you lift your eyes a little higher. 

In the tree branches a familiar pair of red eyes were watching you. Your pencil and field notes slip out of your hands, hitting the dirt with a dull thud. 

"Mephisto?" You call, slowly standing up. He cocks his head, not coming any closer. "What are you doing here? You're far from home." You put your hands on your hips, slowly beginning to tap your foot. "You ghost me the day before I leave but have the ability to come and find me in the mountains." You finally squat to pick up your field notes, tucking your pencil behind your ear. Mephisto doesn't respond. He just cocks his head at you again. He looks down at the baggy at your feet. You follow his gaze and put your foot in front of it. "Nooooo, Mephie, this is one shiny I absolutely cannot allow you to take." You spoke slowly. "Mephisto. No." The crow looks back up at you.

"CAW!" He cawed rather emphatically. Was it a 'no, I'd never!' or a 'come on, please!' kind of caw? You couldn't decide. You put your fingers to your temple, sighing. 

"Sorry, Mephisto. I'm gonna have lunch soon. Don't have any food to spare you this time. I'm sure whoever is caring for you is worried, shoo, go home. I'm okay." You reach your hands up and gently shoo the bird away. He caws at you again, crooning once, before giving up. In a flurry of feathers he flies off, one feathers actually drifting towards the ground. You watch him as long as you can, approaching the feather. You pick it up, holding it up to the light to admire it. The sheen was otherworldly, absolutely beautiful. You glance around. No one was around. So you make your way to your bag, carefully tucking the feather in amongst your personal journal's pages.

You hear more rustling, so you look over your shoulder. Your teammate from the last excavation was standing in the treeline, cocking his head.

"Hey, we were getting worried. Didn't think it would take you more than a few minutes to finish up." He tilted his head, leaning on a nearby tree. You grab your lunch bag out of your work bag, nodding your head with a smile.

"Nah, I was just finishing a few things up." You walk back over, picking up the artifacts and carefully adding them to the artifact bucket. "Just was double checking the munsells for the soil. Is the earth slightly more yellow or red, you know?" You chuckle, approaching him with your lunchbox and water bottle. He laughed, walking with you. 

"Oh, don't I know it. Debating over the tiniest shift in shade, only for a cloud to move and make it look totally different." 

"And you can't put the dirt right beside the reference pictures in the munsell book or you'll ruin it. I'm still trying to find the money to buy a personal copy, but those things are expensive." You shake your head at the thought. Usually a company would ensure your crew had one, but you wanted one for yourself. Living the way you were, however, you couldn't afford to shell out that kind of money. Anwir laughed in agreement

"Oh don't get me started. You wouldn't believe the things I did in undergrad to be able to afford my degree. And even now I'm scraping by. Shit pay, shit benefits, shit coworkers..." He winked at you. "Present company excluded. But hey, we do it for the love of the discipline."

You shake your head at him, but know he had a point. Your own first thought was the awful supervisor from your last excavation. Misogynistic, chauvinistic, all the phobias and istics to make him a nightmare to work with. The field was changing, sure, but you'd still find people like him stubbornly clinging to the good old days of the discipline. "Anwir, remember how our last supervisor kept double guessing me every time I said something about munsell or depth or times? Or... anything?" You laugh again. "Listen, I double guess myself enough, I didn't need him in my ear doing the same." Anwir laughed again.

"Oh, he was the worst, wasn't he? Sorry the excavation ended the way it did, but damn, glad to be away from him." He looked away, off towards where the rest of the crew were already eating and laughing. "He wasn't all bad, but he was still a dick."

"Not all bad? Maybe cause you didn't have to face his wrath." You scoff in return, but stop talking about it as another one of your colleagues offers you a bucket.

You'd enjoy your break while you could.

As soon as everyone was done eating, it was back to work. The rest of the day flew by, and the others found a couple more notable discoveries in the same level. Other items of some value, primarily jewelry. An interesting find, one with some notable implications for the region and the ancient trade route. You pack up and head back to the base provided, before unpacking and handling more paperwork related issues. You shower, change, then work on paperwork and a narrative for the day for your field notes. You find Anwir stepping outside to make a call, but comes straight back since it was his night to cook.

He made a rich, comforting meal that immediately made everyone feel a bit more comfortable and relaxed. Aching muscles and joints calmed down, and everyone got a bit more comfortable. 

In theory, it should have been a great night.

But you look at the twist tie you had tied to the pencil sitting on your field notes. The very same Mephisto gave you almost a month ago. The excavation is already drawing to a close, with only one week left to wrap up. Something feels off. Something in your body is twisting and groaning. Not like a stomach ache- but just some soul deep churning, insisting something is wrong.

Your mind is buzzing, but in spite of it all you're exhausted. You and everyone else decide to call it a night early. 

During an excavation, you could sleep heavy, or sleep light. It depended on levels of exhaustion, pain, and any lingering thoughts that might leave you tossing and turning. But that night, you slept like a log. You slept like the dead. You slept harder than you ever had on an excavation, and when you did finally wake up with a low groan, it took you a moment for your colleagues' screams to register in your mind.

But as soon as they did, the exhaustion left your bones. You grab the nearest item, lucky you a sharp trowel, and run barefoot to where all the others were. The storage room. There were signs of a struggle- paperwork everywhere, indents in the wood, and a splatter of blood on the floor. The artifact bucket had been noticeably moved, and as you make your way further inside it was clear it had been rifled through. You turn back to your colleagues, doing a headcount.

"Anwir- where's Anwir?" One of the women call out, before dashing down the hall.

"He wasn't here when I woke up!" His roommate called back, quickly following her.

You turn back into the room. It reminded you of the massacre you had found at your last excavation. You slowly walk further in. You shouldn't touch anything. You should call the local authorities and the company sponsoring you, then wait. But one thing stood out among all the mess. The rest of your colleagues ran off, calling for Anwir, asking if the blood on the floor was actually his. But on the desk in the back right beside the artifact bucket, there was a piece of paper. 

You look over your shoulder before picking it up, unfolding it.

”Keep your sparkly things under lock and key, I could suggest a few supplies. If you're worried about the other archaeologist, call the local authorities and ask for him yourself.  -S"

There, in the same handwriting as the note with Mephisto's name, lay a note clearly left for you. S. S must be Mephisto's owner. You look over your shoulder again, folding the note and tucking it into your pocket before anyone else could come in. You immediately leave, hearing the chaos unfolding among the others. Anwir's roommate called his phone, only to reveal it was still in his room. You instead step forward.

"Let's go ahead and report this to the local authorities, and the company that hired all of us. Excavation should be postponed until we know his whereabouts and safety."

"It's too early to submit a missing person's report." His roommate protested, but he was already dialing the phone number. "Don't know what they can do for him just yet, but yeah, let's get them to look at the artifact room."

When the non-emergency line picked up, your colleague explained the situation to the person on the other end. Whoever was on the phone began to laugh.

"You said his name was Anwir? We had an Anwir dropped off just this morning. He was shaken up pretty bad, he claimed he was a part of an artifact smuggling ring and had attempted to steal some of what you all found yesterday."

The silence that fell over the room was deafening. No one moved and inch. 

"Anwir? Anwir was going to steal...?" You murmur, eyes slowly narrowing. The bastard. 

"Yes, we're waiting to hear back from our contacts in the big city. He already gave us a few other names, including the names of three others from his ring that had been captured a little over a month ago. He keeps mentioning black mist...?"

Black mist. S. Mephisto.

Your lips set in a thin line, your eyebrows drawing together. 

It's all connected.

The chaos unfolding all around you faded to background noise as you retreated inward, trying to piece together the events of the past few months. The excavation with the creepy supervisor, and Anwir. The night at The Nest. This excavation. Mephisto's appearance. The black mist. The man at The Nest, he's probably S himself, if not someone associated with him. Mephisto is likely his bird, you wouldn't be surprised if he was surveillance on you. Surveillance you befriended and gave food to, no less. But he was likely how S knew where you were. 

S left you a note. And he dragged off Anwir. And, as icing on the cake, hurt Anwir or got hurt by Anwir? Your eyes slowly drifted to the patch of dried blood on the floor. Whoever this S was, he had a vested interest in keeping these artifacts from the smuggling ring.

"Hey-" You snap out of your thoughts as one of the others gently grabs your shoulder. You inhale sharply but register her presence and calm down. She slowly lets go. "I went ahead and called the higher ups. They want everything on hold until we figure out what happened with Anwir. They're sending someone to take the artifacts to the lab, and they're debating putting the whole thing on hold. Since the last time this happened the thieves destroyed the equipment as well..." She grimaced. "They don't want to end up with stolen stuff and broken gear." You slowly nod.

"Fair enough." You hum. "Good chance to update logs and stuff. Gods, this is the second time..." 

The other archaeologist laughed dryly, her amusement not reaching her eyes. "Yeah. Anwir, huh? Wonder if that was why he stepped out to make a phone call last night..." You think back on the dinner and feel your heart drop.

"We all felt really tired after he made dinner last night." You spoke slowly, looking back in the artifact room. "And there was a struggle. That should've woken any one of us up. Did he-?" You look up, meeting her gaze. She understands what you're saying before the words can fully fall out of your mouth. She scowled. 

"Bastard." She snarled, whirling around on her heel and pulling out her phone again. "I'm reporting that. We should get hazard pay- and a drug test."  As she marched off, calling supervisors and the police, you find yourself once more. Everyone was rushing around, verifying nothing else was touched or taken. You slide your fingers to the pockets of your pajama pants, tentatively tracing the outline of the note.

S.

You push yourself off the doorframe, returning to your room. Alright, S. It's time to show your hand.

You were unsurprised that the company and local authorities agreed and called off the excavation. Clearly there was a break in at the house you were staying at, since Anwir insisted none of the team attacked him. That coupled with his involvement in a smuggling ring and the drugs he laced the food with gave them all ample reason to call it early. It was always disappointing to have to leave early for any reason. For you even more so, having such rotten luck twice in a row. But perhaps this was a blessing in disguise.

The very same day you arrived home to your apartment, you had a familiar guest waiting for you on your balcony. 

Mephisto looked quite proud of himself. He perched on the chair, puffed up with his head held high. You can't help but shake your head. You couldn't be mad at him, he was just doing what he was programmed to do. You ignore him, bringing your suitcase to your room. You begin to unpack, tucking your field supplies away in the same corner you always do. You load your hamper with dirty clothes to wash, put away your work boots and everyday shoes, and put a clean pillowcase on your pillow. During all of these mundane 'first day back home' tasks , the caws and pecks on your balcony window grew in frequency and volume.

Mephisto was throwing a tantrum.

You try to ignore it. You were a little irritated with him, after all. Just a little. He was basically surveillance, from what you understood. And you shouldn't be giving this S figure any more information on yourself than you already have. Who knows his true intentions? Maybe he's trying to get you in his debt, to call in some big favor. Or maybe he's a creep. You don't have enough information yet. More research necessary. Typically a comforting phrase, since it kept you in a job. But clearly you signed yourself up for something much bigger than yourself. All you wanted was for that necklace to stay in its cultural context. So many artifacts around the world were not where they belonged- colonialism was the major contributing factor. 

But you were determined to be a part of the change. Of the path forward. 

You snap out of your thoughts at a particularly loud squawk. You turn on your heel and approach the window to the balcony, sighing.

"Okay, okay, I hear you. I just had to take care of some things." You open the window, and he hops back and forth on the back of the chair cawing at you emphatically.

"CAW! Caw, caw, c a w!"

You weren't sure what he was saying. But you knew he was mad at you for making him wait. You leave the window open, excusing yourself to your kitchen. You pull the same crow mix you had made out, and since everything in it was dried it should still be good. You put some in the bowl and bring it back, offering it to him. He swings his head away.

"Oh you're really mad at me for ignoring you for a few minutes?" You curl into the same spot in the windowsill, crossing your arms over your chest. "I should be the one mad at you, you know. You're working for S, aren't you?" You fish the paper with his note out of your pocket, holding it in front of the bird. He squawked indignantly. But- was that guilt on his face?? "I knew it." You sit up a little straighter. "Okay. You're a cyborg. You've been following me around and keeping tabs on me at home. You're surveillance, aren't you?!" You point at him accusingly. His wings and head slowly drooped. Looking away. He crooned, low and slow. An admission of guilt- you think. 

You tuck the paper away again. "Hey, listen." You speak slower, in a softer tone of voice. "I'm not- I'm not mad at you, Mephisto. I'm just worried." Mephisto kept his head lowered. Was this bird guilt tripping you? Honestly, fuck it, stranger things have happened. The world turned topsy turvy ever since the Chronorift Catastrophe. "Ever since I went to The Nest, weird things have been happening. Feeling followed, feeling watched... All I wanted was to ensure more artifacts aren't stolen." You put your chin in your palm, watching the bird. "I mean... look at the British Museum. And other museums like it. I love what I do, honest, but I can't change history. Archaeology is rooted in colonialism, but my generation can be the change. You know? Repatriate the stolen goods, make sure everything goes home as safely as it can." You settle yourself in the window still further, getting as comfortable as you can. Mephisto lifted his head, his red eyes trained on you. Cocking his head back and forth. He crooned. Slowly. 

"I'm going to interpret that as you agreeing with me." You smile, reaching out to pat him on his head. He didn't shy away. "Well. Whoever this 'S' figure is, he seems to think the same way. I'm assuming he's the guy at The Nest. Tall, white hair, broad shoulders, ominous glowing right eye?" You describe him, watching as Mephisto began to rummage through the nuts. "Returning the necklace he bought. And even stopping another theft from happening in the first place. I'm honestly impressed, he could've made some money off of all of that, but he didn't." Mephisto looked at you again, crooning low and slow. He paused, lifting his head up in a sudden jerk. He cocked his head one way. Then the other. His eyes grew wider as he stared off into the distance, before sharply returning to the present. He flapped his wings, getting closer to you. You extend two fingers and he perches on them, lifting his wing. He rummages around in his feathers before pulling something shiny out. 

A red and black crow pin. He dropped it against your chest. You were taken aback, but figure this must be another gift as a thank you for feeding him. You use your free hand to pick up the brooch, admiring it in the fading evening light. "Wow..." You flip it to look on the back. It had the backing to be converted into a necklace. "Thank you, Mephie..." You look back at the crow, your smile slowly growing wider. He cawed one more time, flapping his wings. "Oh! Do me a favor before you go." You unhook the back of the brooch, pinning it to your top. "I'd like you to pass along a message to S." You lean in, the bird waiting for you.

"Thank you." You whisper. before leaning back. "Maybe one day I can thank him for his assistance in person. But until then, I'll just let you keep playing messenger." Mephisto waited, cocking his head one more time. He crooned, then took off. Carrying your thanks with him as he returned to his master.

There was radio silence for a week. No Mephisto. No excavations. No nothing. It gave you time to edit your field notes, to check how much a new munsell book would cost, and do some basic upkeep on your supplies. But you still needed work, and you needed your next job. 

That being said? It’s late. You’re tired. And you’ve been staring at the computer screen far too long.

With a heavy sigh you push yourself away from your desk, standing up while popping your back. You grab your keys and slip on your shoes at the door, hopping down the stairs as you make your way to the building’s entrance. You pull out your earbuds, about to put them in for your walk to the convenience store when a glint in the light caught your attention.

A man sat on a motorcycle in front of your building. His helmet sat in front of him on the seat, one of his hands rested atop it and flexed back and forth. He was dressed in leather protective gear typical of those who ride motorcycles. This was customized, however, with red and white stripes of a lightning-esque design on the arms and chest. He wasn't facing you at first, so you were content to walk by, when a familiar caw caught your attention. Mephisto was contentedly perched on the man's fingers, but his eyes were locked on you. He cawed emphatically a few more times. You opened your mouth to greet the bird when the man finally turned to face you.

He had a smug, almost lazy smile on his face. An aura of danger but an expression of contentment. Like this was always supposed to happen. Like he had been waiting for this. 

Your mouth runs dry. 

"Hello. sweetie." The man, undoubtedly S, finally spoke. He lifted his two fingers and Mephisto flew towards you, circling you before landing by your feet. He hopped towards you, puffed up with pride. "Mephisto here told me you wanted to speak with me?" He tilted his head. His very aura was threatening, but he remained seated on his motorcycle. Not making any sudden moves towards you. 

"I- no, that isn't exactly what I said." You look away, rubbing the back of your neck. As you shifted the street lights caught in the crow brooch you still wore. S's eyes immediately snapped to it, his smug smile widening ever so slightly.

"I see Mephisto delivered my gift." He nodded to it. Finally, he stepped off his bike, leaving his helmet on the seat. He looked massive enough at The Nest, but finally standing toe to toe with him made him look even bigger. The man is built like a brick house. You swallow, standing your ground as he approached, His long fingers lifted, almost as if to graze the brooch. You take half a step back, eyeing him warily.

He paused. His red eyes flickered up to you, and the smile slid off of his face. His eyes bore into yours. Searching for something. His right eye began to glow for just a moment, but when he heard your hitched gasp the glow vanished. S's eyes remained still. Searching your gaze, but not prying into your mind. He was searching for something, anything. But he didn't appear to like what he saw.

"Anwir." His voice dropped. "Anwir was the one involved with the smuggling ring for artifacts. He began when he was in university to make ends meet, but even in his professional career he has continued. He's gone by multiple different names. He and your old supervisor were working together." He stood up to his full height, his eyes finally leaving yours as he looked to the side. "You were right. Believe it or not, I've... had experience in repatriation, I guess you could say." 

You watched him in shock. You wanted to protest, ask how he could know that. But it made perfect sense. Anwir himself said he had to do some odd things to make ends meet, and that might explain his dismissive attitude towards the last supervisor. "How would you have experience in repatriation?" You ask him slowly. Mephisto caws, flying up and perching himself on your shoulder. His steady weight felt like a reassurance. In spite of the odd situation, you weren't in any trouble. Not in any danger. 

"Let's just say I have my own vendetta against the rich assholes who think they can steal and smuggle precious relics as they please." S leaned down again, a smile reappearing on his face. Well, more like a smirk. "We have similar goals. I'd like to cut a deal."

"Tell me your name first." The words fall out of your mouth before you can stop them. You stand up a little straighter. "I know you've been watching me, so you already know my name. But I need yours if I'm going to trust you." S remained bent down. His eyes trained on yours.

"You don't know it already?"

"No. All I know is 'S'. So tell me your name, S." You watch him closely. There was a flicker of something in his gaze. A hint of hurt. But it was gone as quickly as it had appeared. 

He leaned in, breath ghosting over your ears as his voice dropped to a whisper. "Sylus." You stood your ground, not shying away from him. You let him whisper his name into your ear like its a secret he ought to protect. He leaned back to meet your gaze again, before glancing at the crow still perched on your shoulder. "Mephisto, come." his voice dropped, a firm command forcing the bird to comply. He hopped from your shoulder to Sylus's, perching there. But the bird turned back to you, crooning low and slow. In spite of yourself you exhale a soft laugh.

"Good to see you too, buddy." You murmur, extending your hand. Mephisto leaned into your hand, allowing you to pet his head. Sylus shot his bird a side eye before turning his attention back to you. "So. What is this deal you want?"

"I have an interest in some of the other members of your field. Some of them are beginning to work with an enemy of mine, and I need someone in the discipline to help me keep an eye on them. Anwir was one of them." Sylus adjusted how he was standing, crossing his arms over his chest. "Help me keep tabs on these individuals, and in return I will help you in stopping the broader artifact smuggling trade in the N109 zone." 

"The N109-" You cut yourself off, eyes wide. "Are you sure? There's no other catches to this, right?" You should be wary of anyone trying to persuade you with connections to the N109 zone. But in spite of it all, even with his intimidating presence, you didn't feel unsafe with him. Something about him felt distantly familiar. "I'm not sure I can get myself involved in something like this. I know I shouldn't have been at The Nest that night. I just-"

"You just didn't want to see history fall into the wrong hands." Sylus finished the thought for you. He sighed, looking away while pinching the bridge of his nose. "Neither do I. But there is something much larger than history going on here. Anwir was a part of a much larger syndicate. You went on two excavations with him, which makes you a potential target for his group, especially since you were at The Nest. You need someone to look after you. This deal is hardly just for my sake. It's for yours."

"Generosity always comes with strings attached." You shoot back. Not angrily, not like that at all. Appraisingly. Testing him, seeing how he'll take resistance. "You wouldn't offer protection without expecting more from me."

"Oh, so you're savvy in business deals now, are you?"

You mimic the way he's standing, head high and with your arms crossed over your chest. "Grants, funding, working with companies... there are always strings attached. Expectations. I need to know the fine print before I agree to anything. Last thing I want is to agree to a deal only for all my hard work to end up tied to the wrong group." Sylus chuckled, low and slow.

"A fair assessment." He shrugged, making Mephisto squawk as he tried to maintain his balance. "Alright, then. Here is what I will expect from you, sweetie. You will go about your normal life in the field, nothing different there. But Mephisto will tail you to act as surveillance on your companions. If I find someone suspicious I will alert you. Or, if you find something or someone suspicious, you will alert me in turn." His lips curled into a smirk. "In return for information and allowing Mephisto to tail you I will ensure your safety and continue to look into the artifact smuggling rings." His eyes lowered to the brooch on your shirt. He lifts his hand again, but doesn't touch it yet. He points at it. "This will act as your connection to me. If you ever need anything and cannot contact me, find Elysium, and ask for the Sweet Evil Trap from the Connoisseur's Menu." He does eventually allow his finger ot graze the brooch, and you do not shy from his touch this time. "The people who matter will know what you mean."

You cock your head, but don't question it. N109 zone folks were odd. You nod your head in confirmation. "I can do that." You agree. In the back of your mind you were taking note of all these things, wondering if you should reach out to your old friend against to see if you could find any information on this Sylus figure from the N109 zone. You wanted to know who you're dealing with and what you just signed yourself up for. "I just hope I'm not making a deal with the devil here."

"The devil?" Sylus laughed. A true, deep laugh. A slight hint of surprise in his voice. "What do you take me for? We were just discussing our mutual, noble ideals of repatriation."

"I'll remind you that the first time we met you dragged me down an alley with black mist and pried into my mind so deep my soul hurt." You shoot back. "That doesn't necessarily instill the most faith in a person."

"Fair." He shrugged, Mephisto again squawking. "Then allow me to demonstrate my willingness to aid you. Consider me... a patron for your discipline." 

"... I don't need an academic sugar daddy." 

"I didn't say that." Sylus laughed again. "No, no. Simply a patron of the discipline. We have the same end goals. No 'sugar' needed. Unless you're offering, of course." In spite of everything, his tone revealed he truly was joking. You manage to laugh in return, even in the odd circumstances you were presented with. 

Stalked, followed, dealing with colleagues going against everything the discipline should stand for and believe in. Here you stand with a criminal, someone you should stay far away from. And yet, right now, it feels like he is the one you can trust most out of all of them. 

"Alright." You finally acquiesce. "Fine, we can do this. But I reserve the right to call things off. I'm not stupid, I know I can't report this to the police or anything."

"I won't ask you to. This is your choice." Sylus finally looked to Mephisto. With one look the bird took off, already heading towards the N109 zone. "And I will not hold it against you if you must call it off." He sauntered back to his motorcycle, lifting his helmet. "You will know when you hear from me." He flipped his visor shut, and got onto the motorcycle. You don't know why. But you stay to see him off. As the engine revved to laugh you lifted a hand, waving him off. Before he took off down the dark streets, he glanced at you. Even through the visor of his helmet, you catch a single wink before he took off. 

The flirt took you off guard. Your breath hitched again, and watching the bike vanish down the road only left your heart beating a little faster. You couldn't even remember why you really left your apartment. In a slight daze, you turn on your heel, and go back inside.

A few days later, while you were finishing up digitizing some other notes, you received notification that you had a package. You don't think much of it, pausing to stretch and go downstairs. A friend could have sent you something, or it could be some letter from an organization or group you worked for. Or it could be junk. As you hop down the stairs two at a time, your phone vibrates in your pocket. You don't glance at it until you show up to the mailroom. You fetch the package, and only then glance down.

Unknown number: Enjoy, sweetie. 

You narrow your eyes. Wrong number? You don't respond at first, returning to your room. You open the text, looking at the number to see if it might be someone you know. You open the package with the sharp edge of your trowel you really know you shouldn't but you had it out so you might as well. You place your tool down, removing the brown paper. 

You freeze. You slowly pick the book up, holding it up in the light. You had never see a munsell book so... clean. You open it, looking through the colors of soils. You flip through each page, fingers caressing the page with a care most equipment didn't receive. Your phone buzzes again, and you quickly look down.

Unknown: You could be greedier, you know.

Unknown: A book is nothing. Whatever you need, tell me. I may not be your "academic sugar daddy", but I am your partner.

You put the book down, hurriedly picking up your phone.

You: Sylus????

You: Thank you, I've been wanting to have my own for years

You: This wasn't necessary

Sylus: Don't worry about it, sweetie

Sylus: A book is nothing. You could be greedier. Whatever you need, whatever your heart desires

Sylus: All you need to do is tell me. We have the same goal, don't we? If this will help achieve it, then it is more than worth it

You stand, slack jawed. You look between your phone and the book sitting on the table. Beside it, your trowel. And beside that, your field journal bookmarked with one of Mephisto's feathers. "Partners." You murmur aloud. You gently remove the feather from your field notes, instead tucking it into the munsell book. Your trowel remains beside it. You take your phone, pressing the 'call' button beside your newly added contact for Sylus. You move further into your apartment, putting your phone closer to your ear.

"Hey, partner. I think I'd like to be greedier." A low, tired chuckle came from the other end of the line. It was mid morning, was the man nocturnal?

"Whatever your heart desires."

[manicpixiefelix]

head, heart, hand. {Felix Catton/Reader/Oliver Quick}

Part 27.

Summary: Felix takes charge of his own story, his own romance, and with intent to confront Ollie about his lies. He doesn't want you to fee like you have to do this alone. But neither does he.

{ masterpost }

Need to Know: They/Them. Explicitly NB Reader. FWB!Reader/Felix. Reader is from a well off family but has pretty much been adopted by the Cattons. Reader's biological parents are named Pearl & Andreas.

Warnings: discussions of the reader's parents continuing to be shitty to them via legal documents and wanting nothing to do with them.

A/N: 6032 words. google 'how do words work'. also HELLO! NEW YEAR!! since we last spoke like this, i proposed to my partner (i have a fiance now!!) i took more photos in my silly, little Saltburn costumes, both as Felix and Venetia (when they say 'get u a man who can do both' they mean me), i became a licenced Dogger (if u need someone for ground rigging at an event message me) and I continued to be UNWELL about saltburn. i missed you. how was your new years? Is this chapter at all coherent. OH ALSO WE GET A FELIX CHAPTER NOW! I LOVE HIM YOUR HONOUR!

TAGLIST IN COMMENTS!! // TAGLIST ALWAYS OPEN ! (just message or comment to be added)

----

It's your voice that echoes in Felix's mind as he tries to fall asleep that night. So often it is, but usually the words are far sweeter than the broken whisper that plays on repeat when he closes his eyes.

"I want to know why he did what he did before I tell you."

Felix is desperately trying to make himself believe that this isn't like last time, that this isn't like Eddie, but right now, from his shockingly limited perspective, it's hard not to focus in on the similarities. So he has to believe in you; if not you, then who, or what? Oliver? That's a hard no right now, but something about Oliver, despite everything has you believing, and Felix has never not trusted your judgement before. He's not going to start doubting you now.

And fucking hell, he can't even begin to process the revelation that it had been you who had caught Venetia and Eddie last Summer, not Farleigh. He might owe Farleigh an apology after all of this, or some kind of thank you basket... for what, he's not exactly sure of in this moment, but it definitely feels apt. Maybe for still putting up with him all this time, all things considered. Farleigh had never liked Oliver -

Again, Felix has to remind himself to trust in you in this moment, to breathe deep and believe it's not like last time. However the smug devil on his shoulder - that definitely looks like Farleigh wearing those two party hats and a shirt that simply says 'Easy', telling him 'I told you so' - is very loud.

But by his side, your breathing has evened out, and the air that flutters in through the half-open window is surprisingly cool for the Summer, and though the stars you'd painted and stretched across the ceiling have lost their glow after hours in the dark, if he squints, he can still make out his favourite constellations.

Felix has never been as sentimental as you, at least that's what he tells himself. That's what he lets everyone believe. If you knew better, you'd be the only one, not that you'd ever tell anyone. That's one of the many things Felix likes about you; you're sentimental enough for the both of you. The things you hold onto are so often special to the two of you; as much as Felix is glad you hold onto them, as much as he loves that they so often end up in his - your shared - room, the only person who he lets see that affectionate appreciation is you. You're the only one that matters.

He's entirely too aware of how he's perceived by others. He'd argue - again, to you alone and never anyone else - that he had to be. Felix had always been more self aware than most people liked to give him credit for, despite his best effort. Efforts to not be self aware that is, because when he thinks too hard about it, his life becomes almost claustrophobic. The privilege, the constant eyes on him, the expectations.

"You're Sir James' and Elspeth's son." Sometimes he thinks about the first conversation the two of you had shared, how you'd identified him before he'd even said his name; "you're Felix Catton." Ten years old, and the first person in all the years that Felix had already been paraded out like a show pony, to make him feel like a person.

Right now, his role had barely changed, it was that of fanciful youth; be pretty whilst headed in the direction of success. One day there'd be responsibilities, but both his parents were in good health and sound of mind, so he was to do what he pleased so long as he kept up appearances, wore a suit when they asked him to, and barked on command in front of their impressive, vapid friends.

For all that the estate dripped with it's own kind of sentimentality, it's impressive history oozing from the walls themselves, his parents, and the company they kept, so often favoured novelty. Felix does too, he knows this, he's a Catton after all... most of the time.

Sometimes, around you, and once or twice this Summer with Ollie if he's being honest, he felt like he didn't belong amidst these people, his family, at Saltburn... Or, well, no; he felt like he didn't want to belong at Saltburn.

Right now, staring up at those stars you'd painted for him all those years ago, he feels it so strongly he aches. He wants to belong to that little apartment in London you'd asked him to run away to, wanted to belong to something that wasn't a sister who'd roll her eyes at his heartbreak, or parents who'd sweep it under the rug. His role in this home, this family, had never been one that allowed for him to be broken hearted. For Venetia, it had always seemed almost expected, but Felix was expected to be the one breaking hearts if he was ever in that situation.

Love was meant to be freeing. For most of his life, it had been. After all it's why he'd always been so grateful to have found you so early in life. He knows it's a big part of the reason his family had taken to you so quickly, why his parents had allowed you to stay, to get so close.

Felix closes his eyes and he still sees the stars above.

Still, sleep eludes him. If you can tell, or if you could feel the absent-minded way he was still stroking your back when you'd woken up and realised he hadn't thought to stop, you don't say anything. The air is different, Felix is exhausted already, and you are tender with him. You always are, but this morning is different. Almost difficult for you.

It's soothing to focus on you. He knows you've always struggled when confronted with a problem you felt like you weren't allowed to solve, however he's grateful that you're letting him step up. He's done being passive, done being the one in this relationship that things just happen to at the behest of the people around him. That's his usual role when there's even a hint of genuine emotional investment. It's suffocating; like his role at Saltburn, his role as Future Lord Catton, he doesn't want to belong in that neatly defined identity.

Felix wants, no, he needs to believe he can do for himself what you've always happily done for him. So he's grateful that you're letting him try... even if he sees how uncomfortable you are, how you're holding yourself back from offering to make all his troubles go away, if only he'd ask. Usually, he didn't even have to do that. Now, you can't even look at him, can't stand to see him exhausted and unhappy and being unable to help. You'll spiral, or break the agreement the two of you had come to the night before, so you don't look at Felix. But he looks at you.

Even with all the emotional turmoil the two of you found yourselves in with Oliver, there's no doubt about you in Felix's mind. Honestly, he's even ashamed that there ever was back at Oxford, even if it was only akin to a heartbeat of time in your relationship.

Except that wasn't the whole truth. That golden afternoon he still recalls so clearly, you surrounded by newspapers, searching for Ollie's dad's obituary to try and memorialise the man who, by all accounts, didn't deserve it. Felix has always kind of known that you were far better than he deserved. It was never you he doubted, it was himself.

He hated that he'd made you cry that afternoon, hated that you'd so clearly seen and spelled out how scared he was of the idea of you finding someone better than him, someone like Ollie who could love you, could treat you right, without needing Felix as an audience. Hated that you were right. Hated everything that said about him. Most of all, he hated how he couldn't even bring himself to ask the one goddamn question you wanted him to.

Could you love someone without me?

The thought of any answer was terrifying to him at the time.

If you'd answered yes, he'd have to face the idea of a life without you, no matter how small the possibility. But if your answer was no, he knows all he'd feel is guilt. Even if he'd pretended not to notice, he'd loved Eddie without you. Felix had still loved you, he's certain he'll never stop, but as much as you'd liked Eddie before he'd come to Saltburn, you never loved him.

And even if he ignored every single red flag at the time, Felix knew in his heart that Eddie had never really even cared about you as a person. Then again, had he even cared about Felix? Considering what happened last Summer, how things had ended, how Felix has never heard from him since, he - he doesn't want to think about it. It's in the past, he tells himself.

But Felix loves this thing between you, Oliver, and himself more than he'd ever loved what he had with Eddie. Felix isn't afraid of the question anymore, because he knows you well enough to know your answer would be just the same as his. It's the essentially the same answer he'd given that night he'd asked if you could live without him.

Even if I could, I wouldn't want to.

Which is why he's doing this. Because despite all his attempts at denial, he loved Ollie, and you love Ollie, and aside from this one issue - and the subsequent lying - it seemed that Ollie loved you both too. So he has to do this; you've been caught in the crossfire of Ollie's lies for Felix's sake, now it's his turn to step up and sort things out. Make things right.

That's why he watches you, he's doing this so he can see you smile again. Without hesitation, or reservation just behind your eyes.

And right now you aren't even able to smile.

Nothing feels real at breakfast. Felix thinks he can taste static. No Farleigh. Ollie, oblivious. Venetia reading at the table and avoiding looking at anyone. His parents, as always, in their own, little bubble.

"Venetia, please no headphones at the table," Elspeth sighs. Venetia sighs louder, but obliges without looking up. She's not even pretending to eat breakfast with them this morning, book open on her empty plate as she sips tea. The only person she engages with is James, who asks about her book. Venetia doesn't even look up, and her voice is forcibly light, like it alone can mask how she looks like she'd rather be anywhere else.

"I forgot we had it," she admits softly, though her next words have Felix instinctively scowling, "I think Pearl left it here for Farleigh a few years ago after one of those Arts dinners, but he's never touched it. It's a biography of that performance artist in New York, the controversial one, Marina Abramović. I found it going through his room the other day."

"The one that Aunt Fred cheated on her husband with?" Felix can't help but ask as the name lights up something in the back of his mind.

"Supposedly," Venetia's tone is dismissive, and she turns to the next page, "Farleigh thinks it's a load of bull his dad was spouting when he found out we'd cut her off, but I have seen Fredricka Start mentioned as a collaborator here. Maybe Aunt Fred did have a lesbian affair with a controversial, Serbian, performance artist. Seems like something she'd do."

Before Felix can even process any of this, James steers the conversation away from his estranged sister's potential affair with all the subtlety of a bulldozer, asking if the book itself was any good. Shrugging, Venetia takes another sip of tea, sounding so utterly nonchalant.

"I'm still making my mind up about it, I'll tell you when I'm done."

Remembering the utter state you'd been in last night coming back from spending time with Venetia, Felix can't help but hope his sister is hurting over whatever words the two of you had shared.

It seems Duncan senses the strangeness too, as he's uncharacteristically mobile, at least for him, making the rounds about the table when they all know the maids are more than capable of collecting the dishes themselves. Felix watches him circle like a vulture.

For just a moment, their eyes meet. Usually looking into Duncan's eyes is like gazing at a stone wall of unshakeable professionalism, today however there was... something there. Something utterly unreadable. Still, it was an anomaly. Duncan definitely feels the strangeness in the room.

"Is there anything I can get you, Felix?" He sounds as curt as ever though. Felix gives a practiced smile, declining. Finally, he looks away. Duncan gives a moment of pause before adding, "anything for the Captain?" When Felix looks back to him, he sees the way Duncan's eyes flick to you, by Felix's side, how he must sees what Felix does in his peripheries - the barest shake of your head that he's sure all others at the table miss, but Felix and Duncan never would - but he still waits for Felix's answer. Because you too are quiet, in trapped in your own mind in a way none of you can articulate, but all seem to understand.

"No, they're fine," Felix gives a more genuine smile, "thank you, Duncan." Duncan nods, stepping back from where he'd been hovering by Elspeth's chair, striding over to take Venetia's empty tea cup and pass it on to a bemused, waiting housemaid.

"Are you alright, Pet, you seem rather out of sorts this morning," Felix and Duncan's interaction had caught his otherwise oblivious mother's attention, as she finally turned to you. As if woken from a trance, you look up to Elspeth, almost surprised by the question.

"Yeah, I -" but you take a moment to breathe. Beneath the table, Felix gently pets your thigh in silent support. After taking a moment to compose yourself, you start again, "I think I may have to quarantine myself in the study for the morning," you sighed, though your smile doesn't reach your eyes. When Elspeth asks if you're feeling alright, you give a humourless laugh, gaze going back to your food. You take another bite before explaining, "I'm fine, however this contract from Andreas and Pearl gets more convoluted and ridiculous the further I read; I think a quarantine is the only way to save you all from their toxic bullshit."

"Have you had a lawyer look it over?" James asks with genuine interest, putting down his paper, but your expression just scrunched up with vague confusion.

"I think that breaks the contract?"

"That you haven't signed?" Ollie points out. Clearly your mind has actually switched to thinking about the contract, rather than the clusterfuck of a situation with Ollie himself, because you do take his words onboard.

"Which I haven't signed," you agreed, face scrunching up further, as if you're trying to recall details outlined in the document itself, "I think if I'm able to find an untraceable way to contact them, um, somehow indirectly, they might send me a lawyer of my own?" You don't exactly sound sure, however you follow it up with a humourless smile, "but if I contact them directly, I believe they think it will curse my entire bloodline, even retroactively, and therefore they will trebuchet me directly into the sun."

Despite everything Felix laughs at that, as does Venetia. Farleigh would have too, if he were here.

"Darling, they're not going to trebuchet you into the sun -" Elspeth tries to soothe you, surprisingly genuine care in her tone.

"Mum, I think you underestimate how much Andreas loves that stupid trebuchet he built during college," you respond flippantly, before gesturing to James at the end of the table, "you helped, didn't you? You know he loves it."

"I-" James actually seems a little surprised, taking a moment to recall what you were speaking of, "I had forgotten all about that, but yes," he begins to smile fondly, "quite an impressive feat we pulled off that Summer, building that - was it a trebuchet? Have I've been misremembering it as a ballista all these years?"

While James was fondly caught up in his reminiscing, Elspeth just looked a little forlorn. However Oliver, seemingly bewildered by the entire concept, can't help but voice his surprise.

"You spent your Summer building an actual trebuchet with Y/N's dad?"

"Yes, I suppose I did," James chuckled, "at the end of our first year, I believe, just a few months before Andreas and Pearl got engaged. Andreas invited myself and a few of our mates to stay at his family's townhouse in - oh, it was so long ago now - Kensington, I think? Four of us from Oxford, Andreas, and his brothers, all working on this project and otherwise having a grand, old time around London."

"Wait, was that the Summer you kept running into Freddie Mercury and his husband?" Venetia piped up, to which James smiled broadly.

"Garden Lodge was just a few doors down," he enthused brightly, "it seemed like every other day Jim would have to come and collect one of their cats from where we were working; Delilah was very fond of Andreas especially."

Felix himself is bewildered by the information; he knew your parents attended Oxford at the same time as his, but sometimes he forgot that they were actually friends before you and Felix got involved. Of course he kind of knew, considering both of your mothers' heavy involvement in the Arts' Collective, but to think his father had once spent a Summer with your own... It felt uncomfortable in ways Felix hadn't expected.

But when he looks back to you, there's something faraway in your gaze. Your smile doesn't even begin to reach your eyes.

"He's still very proud of it, I'm sure," you tell him with as much warmth as you're able, "the trebuchet, I mean," which Felix knew to mean 'he was proud of it when I was a child, but I haven't spoken to him in years'.

"Darling," Elspeth brings the conversation back around, her tone firm but sweet as she reiterates, "they're not going to trebuchet you into the sun."

At face value it sounds ridiculous, but there's something about how his mother can see through your hyperbole to how genuinely hurt you are by the whole situation that makes Felix quietly marvel. Even with all of her strangeness about you, your identity, and even your relationship with Felix at times, she honestly cares about you. Sometimes she seems to see you as clearly as Felix does.

Maybe she can help Felix see the whole situation with Ollie more clearly too.

In the moment that follows, you let the tension in you break for just a moment, fixing an endeared smile upon Elspeth for her kindness.

"I know," you assured her sincerely, "I'll be okay, I'm going to give nan a call and talk things through with her." With that, you stand, having had enough of this charade for the time being.

"Good," Elspeth nodded firmly, then adding, "give her my love."

"I always do," this time, your smile is entirely genuine, and for just a moment you turn it upon Felix. There's actual amusement as you rest your hand on his shoulder.

"Am I allowed in the quarantine zone?" He can't help but tease in an attempt to play along and lighten your mood; your smile, for just a moment, widens.

"Even you, my love, are excluded," though you pause, giving it some thought, "until lunch." But then, as you contemplate leaving, as you seem to remember the totality of your situation, you face starts to fall. Felix takes your hand, giving it a squeeze, which you return, and press a kiss to the top of his head.

And then you're gone.

Ollie's looking at the doors you'd just left through, and Felix wonders if his concern is at all genuine. But before anyone can say anything else, Felix turns to his mother, trying his best to keep the mood light.

"Mum, could I have a word with you after breakfast?"

Immediately Venetia's head shoots up, looking sharply at Felix. It's a struggle to keep his focus on his mother's surprise and act like his sister's sudden attention in his peripheries didn't make his blood burn. She should be scared.

"Of course, Felix," Elspeth actually seems delighted that he wants to spend time with her, though for a moment her brow furrows, "is everything alright?"

"Yeah, of course," he lies easily, "Y/N was just telling me about some stuff they wanted to chat to you about, and I said I could talk to you about it if they wanted to focus on their family stuff this morning. They made me a list," he adds for good measure. Elspeth's concern softens to understanding. Her thoughtful, helpful boy, he can almost hear her thoughts. Technically she's right.

Venetia's expression is sour, but she goes back to her book.

"Darling," Elspeth turns to James, who once again lowers his paper to give her his attention, "you were going to head into town this morning, were you not?"

"Yes," James perked up considerably, suddenly enthusiastic about his day, "one of the boys back from when I played polo invited some of the team to catch up over fish and chips," he seemed positively gleeful at the very novelty of the idea, "at a pub! I should be back before dinner."

"Oh, that sounds marvellous, I hope you have a wonderful time," Elspeth coos, before turning back to Felix, "would you like to have morning tea on the balcony of the sitting room next to your father's study?"

"Sounds perfect, mum."

However as he leaves the table, he's quickly followed by Ollie, who's asking what's wrong the minute they're alone.

"What?"

"What's wrong," Ollie repeats in earnest, "with you, with Y/N, with Venetia? Everything feels a bit off, you know? But I don't know why." He knows exactly why, the lying, little - but that thought's cut short. Considering the company his parents' keep, Felix knows all too well what fake concern looks like; Ollie is being infuriatingly genuine.

"My best mate's family is attempting to excommunicate them," Felix says through his teeth, gazing anywhere but at Ollie, "Venetia-" he huffs an irate sigh, lying when he says, "I couldn't begin to guess at the source of her mood, you'd have to ask her," which he regrets as soon as he says it; the last thing he wants is Ollie spending any more time with Venetia, especially when she's particularly volatile.

Rocking back on his heels, Ollie takes a beat to consider this, before ultimately coming to accept it. Side by side, they start back towards their rooms in silence. There's anger simmering just beneath Felix's skin, but if he opens his mouth, all he's going to do is start shouting. Being alone next to Ollie less than twelve hours after your revelations and his subsequent taking of responsibilities, not to mention his utter lack of sleep, means he's definitely not in his right mind to have a reasonable conversation about... well, anything.

"I want to know why he did what he did before I tell you."

That's what you'd kept repeating. Felix wants to be in a state of mind where he can get that information out of Ollie before actually passing judgement. But it was fucking difficult if he was being honest.

And outside of his room, Ollie apologises quietly. Felix keeps his mouth shut, but suddenly is levelling his furious gaze upon Ollie. Who doesn't see it. He's looking at the ground.

"S-sorry about Pearl and, um, their dad," he clarifies into the silence, "I can't remember his name."

"Andreas," Felix bites out automatically. Ollie's expression wrinkles reflexively; it's almost amusing, the way his reflexes give away his disdain for just the name itself. It's a wanky, asshole name, for a wanky, asshole man.

"Right," Ollie quickly recovers, finally meeting Felix's gaze. Thankfully the intensity of that gaze had softened, "I don't think they'll ever apologise, but I think Y/N deserves an apology," he admits. It's... conflicting; the sentiment is sweet, but Ollie has so much more he actually has to apologise for. Felix keeps his mouth shut. Clearing his throat, Ollie doesn't seem to be done, "but at least they're not Y/N's actual family," and in seeing Felix's faint confusion, he actually smiles, that small, sweet smile that's frustratingly endearing, "you are," he explained, "they said so themselves; you and Venetia and your mum and dad. Pearl and Andreas are excommunicating them, they've got better family than that."

Felix kind of hates how much he loves Oliver Quick and his thoughtful, insightful mind. How can he say things while Felix is mad at him that still make him want to sweep Ollie off his feet and kiss him? Bastard.

"It's what they deserve," Felix finally manages, reaching out to his doorknob, feeling the conversation coming to a close, "we love them a lot."

"Me too," Ollie agrees quietly, opening his own door, "hope morning tea with your mum is nice, I think I'm going to head down to the pool."

And he leaves Felix alone with his thoughts.

The minute he's in his room, Felix closes his curtains and flops into bed. One of the staff will come and fetch him when his mother is ready for morning tea. After this morning and all of last night, the only thing Felix knows for certain is that he can't have another serious conversation without at least an hour of sleep.

Thankfully he gets that hour. Actually his mother has the grace to give him several, as Duncan comes to collect him just before eleven. Felix feels like a child, still yawning and shuffling his feet for at least half the journey as the butler always stays three steps ahead. As if Felix could get lost in his own home. The only person who's ever been better than him at hide and seek around Saltburn was Venetia, and only because she's smaller and can fit in more obscure places.

All that to say that he doesn't need Duncan to lead him to his mother's favourite sitting room, but that's just how things have always worked around the estate. Felix doesn't even think to comment on it beyond thanking the head of staff as Duncan lets him in after a cursory knock on the door.

Felix has always liked his mother's favourite sitting room. It's one of the few rooms in the house that actually feels like someone lives there. It's where his mother keeps the portrait James commissioned of their family when Felix was a child. He remembers how his parents wanted the experience to be authentic, just as the royals on their walls would have had. It had been a real bonding experience for the Catton siblings, who absolutely hated said 'authentic' experience; right next to the beautiful, oil painting, Elspeth had lovingly framed the hand written letter a six-year-old Felix and eight-year-old Venetia had angrily written together, threatening to call the government if they were ever made to stay that still for that long in clothes that itchy ever again.

There's framed photos his mother loves but feels like she can't display in the rest of the house - unflattering or overexposed photos full of motion, and laughter, and love. An uneven throw that Venetia had made for a school assessment over the back of a sofa, accompanied by an lumpy, little pillow Felix had made for a similar school project only a few years later, amongst others bought from expensive, eclectic stores over the years. All the letters James had written Elspeth whenever they were away from each other, from the week they'd begun dating, to the day they got married, professionally bound amongst other coffee table books.

Gilded glimpses of his family's humanity.

If things somehow work out with Ollie, Felix makes a mental note to bring him here and show him every last thing. He'd never even thought to show Eddie this room, his mother had never even brought it up last Summer, though perhaps it was for the best. Or perhaps it was on purpose.

Elspeth is absolutely thrilled that he wanted to spend time with her. Before he's even halfway across the sitting room itself, she's off of the sofa on the balcony, and has met him halfway, kissing him on both cheeks with the biggest smile. Then she's taking his hand, asking him if he was able to get any more rest, as she leads him out to the little balcony, and the tea and biscuits waiting for them.

Felix tells her he had as he sits down beside her, but Elspeth takes gentle hold of his face, expression concerned. He knows he still looks tired before she even says anything.

Something in his mother's eyes changes, like she can see the sword of Damocles held aloft by a gossamer thread above his head. Usually she shies away from moments like this, from ugly ideas like heartbreak and discomfort, but she sits with him in this moment, quiet, giving him space and time to find his voice.

For just a moment he is a child again, and he is exhausted.

"I'm always glad to spend time with you, my darling," Elspeth tells him with the kind of softness he rarely hears from her anymore. She squishes his cheeks fondly, and Felix, going with his youthful impulse, shifts on the sofa so he can lay his head in her lap, squeezing his eyes shut.

He's too big for the tiny sofa at the best of times, but they make do, with Elspeth gently stroking his hair as she finally decides to break the silence.

"I was thinking of having Nana Bijou over, I'd love for her to meet Ollie," she says carefully; Felix can't manage more than a noncommittal hum right now. Depending on how things go with Ollie, he may have to talk his mum out of that idea, but he doesn't want to tip his hand just yet, "actually I was wondering what you would think if I invited her to Ollie's birthday."

Your Nana would probably have a blast at what you and Elspeth already had planned for the event, but Felix still held reservations. As cool as she was, he wasn't sure he wanted her to see either you or himself shitfaced, and no matter how things turned out with Ollie, Felix still kind of wanted the party to go ahead either way.

And if it went bad he'd definitely be shitfaced.

"Maybe," is all he can give his mother in this moment. It's like he can feel his mother's concern in the face of his perceived apathy; Felix loved your Nana as much as he hated your parents, his apathy was worryingly uncharacteristic, "I didn't get a lot of sleep last night," Felix admits softly after a long sigh.

"I could tell," Elspeth gives his cheek a sympathetic pat, though she chooses to follow it up with - "though I must admit, that was my concern with you and Y/N sharing a room."

"Oh god, mum, not like that!" Felix hissed, mortified, his whole face scrunching up with embarrassment.

"Though I suppose I was fighting fate with that one, wasn't I?" She continues blithely, and Felix sits up, hunching over with his face in his hands.

"That's not- mum, please, I wanted to actually talk to you about something serious, can you not do this -" Felix groaned, and when he lowers his hands, he tries to give his mother an imploring look.

"Oh God, darling, please don't tell me you're pregnant," Elspeth bemoaned, expression practically pleading, "I'm too young to be a grandmother." This... wasn't the direction he'd been expecting. Actually, it might be worse.

"I'm... not?"

"You don't sound sure; is Y/N pregnant?"

"No," Felix answers flatly, but his confusion is only heightened as his mother continues on.

"It's not Oliver, is it?"

"It... it kind of is." His exhaustion and confusion are definitely about Oliver -

"He's pregnant?!"

"What?! No! Mum, what?!" This conversation is quickly veering out of control, and Felix has absolutely no way of stopping it. Unfortunately, his mother doesn't slow down.

"I'm sorry, I had assumed it would be either you or Y/N -"

"Why? Why would you assume that?" Felix tries to wrap his head around this, but it's not quite working, "especially me, the son you gave birth to?"

"Oh, Felix, please don't remind me," Elspeth mutter, looking vaguely squeamish, "I spent a lot of time repressing those memories."

"Isn't it the birth of your children meant to be the happiest days of your life?"

"Don't take it personally, dear; I love you, but I never enjoyed bringing you or your sister into this world. Hospitals are dreadfully ugly, even the nice ones, and the smell -" before she can continue, however, Felix cuts her off.

"Sorry, I just - I tell you I want to talk to you about something serious, and your first thought is that my best mate got me pregnant? I cannot stress this enough, mum, I am physically incapable of getting pregnant. I do not have the equipment."

"Which is why I then asked about Y/N -"

"Mum -"

"Well I don't know, Felix!" Elspeth huffed, "what was I meant to think when you and your- your- your gender-defying- subverting- whatever they are -"

"Non-binary, mum," Felix corrects automatically, but Elspeth continues like she hadn't heard him.

"- when the two of you are loudly debasing yourselves all over the estate?"

"Oh my god," oh, Felix kind of hates this.

"Don't be ashamed, dear, the rest of us just tend to avoid your wing of the house after sunset; it's not that hard, it's a big house. As long as you're both happy," Elspeth insists, before offering casually, "and I think Pamela, god rest her soul, was telling me about male seahorses just before she left -"

"I'm not a seahorse!" Felix cuts her off loudly, unable to believe this was a real conversation he was having, "I'm not pregnant! No-one's pregnant!" He throws his hands in the air, "I think I'm in love with Oliver, fuck, that's what I came here to talk about!"

"Oh thank god," Elspeth breathes with a laugh, petting Felix's knee. Her earlier concern has evaporated and she fixes him with a fond smile, "I know, sweetheart. Your father and I love you very much, and we always have, no matter who you love. We're glad you and Y/N have found such a beautifully interesting man who makes you both happy," she tells him pointedly, as if his whole point was that he was worried about coming out to her. Christ, like he hadn't explicitly introduced them to his whole boyfriend the year before.

Like you and Felix had any idea what the hell subtlety was when you were at Saltburn.

So maybe his mother sees the situation too clearly, if she can see how in love you and Felix both are with Ollie.

And maybe, despite her best efforts, she wasn't someone who could help Felix sort out all the bullshit in his head and heart. He'd have to bite the bullet and just talk to Ollie... preferably soon, because the stress was going to give him a headache. He has no idea how you held out for days, over a week, with this kind of thing weighing on you.

At least if things went well, he knew his mother liked Ollie.

But wait, what was that last bit?

"'Makes both of us happy'?" Felix frowned, "what's that supposed to mean?"

It was Elspeth's turn to look tired.

[crowsofdarkness]

Moment Of Weakness: Chapter Twenty Four

-gif not mine. credit to owner-

Pairings: Mob!Bucky Barnes x Reader

Content Warnings: language, 18 + smut, angst, fluff, affair, cheating, violence, kidnapping, faking a pregnancy.

Summary: Reader is the assistant to New York's most feared mob boss, James Buchanan Barnes. He had the picture-perfect life: status in the mob, friends, and beautiful wife. So why can't he keep his mind and eyes off of reader?

Authors Note: I just wanted to remind everyone who reads this, there are heavy moments of cheating/having an affair in this story. You might not agree with the actions of "reader" or Bucky but it does pertain to the storyline. If anyone is interested, tags are open for this! Just send me a message or comment!

Tags: @cjand10 @generalmoonpolice @sapphirebarnes @baw1066 @nameless-ken @minami97 @bookofriverr

I opened the door to my apartment, letting the larger man walk in before me, and shut it quickly, locking it behind me. Bucky looked around the small space that was littered with boxes, some unpacked, some not even touched. He gave me a confused look. 

“I moved last month,” I informed while hanging up my purse and jacket. 

Bucky stood out of place so I offered the couch to him, which he accepted with a nod. 

“Why?” He asked while sitting down. 

I decided to sit on the single chair on the other side of the room. 

“It’s kind of a long story,” I said. 

Bucky leaned back into the couch. “You can start off by where the hell you’ve been the last eight months?” 

I quietly scoffed and did my best to keep my anger at bay. If I pissed him off, he wouldn't agree to help me. 

“I needed space from you, Bucky. It wasn’t healthy for either of us if we continued the way we were,” I defended. 

He shrugged. “So why did you come back?” 

My fingers began to fidget with the loose strand of fabric on the chair I was seated on and I let out a deep breath. 

“I think I’m being followed again.” 

Bucky shoulders tensed as he sat up straighter. “Why do you think that?” 

I gave a half shrug. “It started a month ago. What started off as feeling someone watching me as I walked or through my windows became my car being broken into and stolen. Then my house was burglarized. Whoever did it destroyed almost everything and tore it apart, as if they were looking for something.”

“Were you hurt?” 

I smiled fondly at the concern in Bucky’s voice. 

“No, thankfully I wasn’t home. But after that night, I packed up my things and moved here,” I motioned towards my apartment. “Things were quiet for a few weeks until last night.” 

I handed Bucky a folded up letter that I received in my mailbox yesterday. Bucky’s eyes scanned over the words a few times, the anger radiating off of him in waves. 

You’re going to get what you deserve. No one can keep you safe. Make sure to keep an eye open wherever you go. 

“Do you have any idea who sent this?” Bucky asked through gritted teeth. 

“There wasn’t a return address,” I shook my head. “But I have a feeling about who it could be.”

He sighed while pinching his eyes closed. “Yeah, me too.” 

I tilted my head in confusion. “You do?” 

“There’s been some talk on the streets about Clint’s original hit on you being reinstated,” Bucky said. 

To say I was shocked was a lie; that’s exactly who I thought was behind all of this. But my lips parted when something clicked into place about tonight.

“Is that what you were asking that guy about tonight?” I asked. 

He hesitated, body tense, before eventually nodding. “He was the last one to know about Clint’s whereabouts but Budapest is broad. It could have been yesterday or six months ago.” 

My heart skipped a beat when I realized that Bucky was trying to fight this on his own for me. For my safety. 

“I would ask if you would help me but it seems like you’ve already been doing that,” I chewed on my lip.

“It’s you, Y/N. I would do anything to protect you,” he vowed without missing a beat. 

Silence fell between us for a few moments as I racked my brain for what to do next. I could either have him leave, only calling me when he found out some more information about the hit. Or, I could have him stay a bit longer to have us catch up. 

That was such a bad idea, I mentally smacked myself for even thinking that. 

“Aren’t you going to say I told you so?” 

Bucky’s sorrowful voice caused my eyes to land on him. “What?” 

“You were right.” 

I shook my head, confused. “About what?”  

“Natasha. She lied about the pregnancy,” Bucky rested his elbows on his knees, letting out a deep breath in order to keep his tears at bay. 

My heart ached for him, only slightly. I tried to tell him about it way before, so the pain he was feeling was his own fault. 

“Oh,” I muttered. 

“I asked her about it.” 

“Oh,” I said much louder. 

Bucky looked at his hands with heavy shoulders. “She denied it at first, said that she was pregnant and she had all the proof. But when I asked her to take another pregnancy test in front of me, she came clean.” 

I hummed while nodding, not entirely sure what to say. 

“I had her move out the next day and the divorce was finalized last month,” Bucky informed. 

“Oh,” I repeated yet again. 

He chuckled slightly. “Is that all you’re going to say?” 

I shrugged. “What else do you want me to say, Bucky? Good for you? It still doesn't change the fact that I tried to tell you and you blew me off.” 

“I went home that night and confronted her about it.” 

His face was set hard while breath was even and steady, meaning he was telling the truth, and leaned towards me to grab my hands. The warmness of his flesh and the coolness of the vibranium one made my heart flip a few times over. 

“This still doesn't change anything,” I said with stern eyes. “I’m not going to fall back into you because now you’re single.” 

Bucky nodded. “I know. So I’ll make you a promise.” 

My brows raised with interest. 

“When we’re finished figuring out how to end Clint and the hit on you, if you want me to, I'll stay away. Until you’re ready, if you’re ready, give me another chance.” 

He brought my hand to his lips, ghosting a few kisses over my knuckles. No matter how hard I swooned over him, I continued to keep my stern posture, not wanting to let him know how bad he was affecting me. 

“I’ll wait as long as you need me too; years if I have too because heaven knows I’m not getting over you,” Bucky mused. 

I swallowed the large lump in my throat, my heart swelling double its size because of Bucky’s proclamation. All I could do was nod, unsure what words, if any, would come and make sense. 

Our eyes watched each other for a few beats and it wasn’t until I felt us slowly closing the space between us that I let out a small cough, sitting further back into my chair. 

“What time should I meet you tomorrow?” 

“For what?” Bucky asked. 

“Did you really think I would let you handle my problem by yourself?” I questioned. 

He was fast to disagree. “Not happening.  I’m not allowing you to get involved. This is some heavy shit, Y/N. You could get hurt.” 

I stood to my feet and placed my hands in the back pocket of my jeans. “You can say no all you want, Bucky. But we both know that I’ve never listened to you anyway.” 

Bucky’s jaw clenched before he let out a sigh. “We do things my way, understand?” 

With a hard squeeze on his shoulder, I nodded. “Sure.” 

Then, all of a sudden, something clicked in my brain and I sat back down in my chair. 

“What is it?” Bucky wondered. 

“You said that your divorce was finalized a month ago, right?” 

When he nodded, I continued. “Everything that’s been happening to me started about a month ago. So do you think it’s possible-.” 

“Natasha’s in on it,” Bucky finished my thought. “I had a feeling, that’s why I’ve been looking for both of them.” 

“Fantastic,” I grumbled. 

He reached for the letter, playing around with it between his fingers. “You said this letter got mailed to you, here at your new place, right?” 

I began to nod but stopped when I realized what he was getting at. 

“They have my new address.” 

Bucky motioned down the hall. “Go pack a couple of bags of things you might need. You’re staying with me until this is all finished.” 

“Uh, I don’t think that’s such a good idea, Bucky.” I wavered. 

“There’s plenty of guest rooms you can stay in, some even on the far end of the house so you don’t have to be near me,” he said. 

I chewed roughly on my tongue and cheek, hoping the pain from it would be more intense than the way my heart was pounding, thoughts of Bucky and I spending however many nights together. 

“This should be fun,” I muttered to myself while rising to my feet, ready to pack up my life yet again. 

[pukefactory]

In dream bbq, froggy mentions that Ena becomes “more of a disaster” when drunk. Would you be willing to write a reader and Ena going out for drinks. I like to imagine the salesperson side becomes less polite while the meanie gets not quite polite but at least less gruffer, but they both g egg grumpy when recovering from a hangover.

•☽────✧˖°˖ DOUBLE MINT FIZZ ˖°˖✧────☾•

★ Summary: A Compilation of Headcannons Featuring Drunk Salesperson Ena X Reader Drunk At A Bar & Hangover Aftermath

★ Character(s): Salesperson Ena (Ena: Dream BBQ)

★ Genre: Headcanons, SFW

★ Warning(s): Mentions And Descriptions Of Alcohol

★ Image Credits: @JoelG

☆ You made the mistake of calling it a “casual night out,” which somehow translated in Ena’s brain to “full-blown networking gala.” She showed up overdressed, overcaffeinated, and already rehearsing a pitch to “sell your liver to a better candidate.” You hadn’t even ordered drinks yet. She flagged down the bartender like she was interviewing him for a job. “Do you offer loyalty programs? How much to rename this bar after us?”

☆ One drink in and her smooth, customer-service tone starts cracking. Two drinks in and she’s swinging her leg over the barstool, making finger guns at strangers. By drink three, she’s calling people “consumer-class parasites” and asking if she can “return your attitude for store credit.” “Excuse me, miss, is that your real personality or did you get it from the clearance bin?” You try to stop her. You do. But she’s too fast and way too articulate.

☆ While Salesperson is talking business like she’s running a stock scam in the bathroom mirror, Meanie slips out with glassy eyes and a quiet confession: “I th-think…I’m bad at parties…” You blink. She’s got her head on your shoulder and is mumbling something about her “internal marketing failure.” When you offer her water, she whispers, “You’re the only person who hasn’t emotionally bankrupted me tonight.” You might die.

☆ Shot glasses are the worst possible idea. Salesperson slams hers back and immediately yells, “I’M INVESTING IN YOUR POOR DECISIONS, BABY!!” while Meanie swats her own off the table and mutters, “Only suckers drink blue-liquid lies.” Then she looks at you and shouts, “CHUG IT OR I’LL SOB.”

☆ Salesperson Ena tears a napkin into the shape of a phone and tries to convince the bar’s patrons to invest in a new “emotional expense tracker app.” “We’re calling it Feelance. Now, who wants to monetize their heartbreak?” Meanie insists she’s the beta tester. “I already logged nine traumas tonight. You owe me five bottles of wine.”

☆ Ena refuses to walk in a straight line. Salesperson is trying to hail passing clouds like they’re Uber cars. Meanie is whispering insults to pigeons. You’re holding her elbow, and she’s shouting, “DON’T TOUCH ME I’M WORTH MILLIONS—wait never mind I’m dizzy—carry me, employee of the month…”

☆ The next morning, both she’s devastated. “I feel like a failed IPO.” “I think I bit a karaoke machine.” She lies on your floor like broken wind-up toys. Meanie has her face pressed to the cold tile and whispers, “I miss my dignity.” She throws a pillow over her face and groans, “Why did I sell it for tequila shots?...”

☆ Salesperson Ena insists on calling every single person she insulted last night. “Hello, is this the woman with the unfortunate scarf? I’d like to formally retract my statement. Your fashion choices are legally protected under the Geneva Conventions.” Meanie then chirps in and throws the red cup phone into a plant and hisses, “NO MORE BUSINESS. NO MORE BULLSHIT. ONLY PANCAKES.”

☆ You ask if she wants to go drinking again. She stares at you. Unblinking. “Are you out of your revenue-driven mind?” But by next Friday? Ena’s at your door with coupons, a flask, and a full slideshow presentation titled: “Why You Should Absolutely Let Me Embarrass Us Again – Q2 Edition.”

[crownmemes]

Mean Sentences, Vol. 8

(Mean sentences from various sources. Adjust phrasing where needed)

"Do you really think you can win?"

"You really are creepy, you know that?"

"If I kill you right now, no one will remember you! No one will miss you!"

"Oh, you really love yourself, don't you?"

"You know this doesn't make us friends, right?"

"Unless you have an IQ higher than mine, I'm not interested in what you think."

"Wow, you might be the least perceptive person I've ever met."

"Oh, you're really not as smart as I thought you were. I guess I gave you too much credit."

"I still don't think there's anything impressive or romantic about this."

"We are not the same. We are never going to be the same."

"You know, your arrogance is one of the big reasons why you're not further ahead with your career."

"Your ruse is pathetic."

"You must have been a very boring child."

"How do you live like this?"

"Everyone has their button. Push it and they go blind. Yours, obviously, is ego."

"I used to look up to you, but now? Now, you're pathetic."

"Can you just leave me alone? Every time you get near me, something bad happens."

"Now I know how weak you are."

"You know, maybe I'm not the problem? Maybe it's you!"

"You're not someone I really want to work with."

"You've got loose wiring. Probably a sociopath."

"You run around trying to fix everything, but you're the one who is broken."

"Have you deceived and betrayed anyone yet today? It is almost lunchtime, after all."

"Don't take this the wrong way, but I don't think about you all too often."

"Nothing interests me less than impressing you."

"Wow. I really got to you, didn't I?"

"Maybe you should do what you do best - run and hide."

"You never did lose well."

"I picked that up reading books. You should try it sometime."

"Was it worth it? Compromising yourself for money?"

"Everything they say about you is true!"

"When was it that you lost your imagination?"

"I'm sure some people find you charming, but I don't."

"You don't even feel, do you?"

"You are like a wad of chewing gum stuck to the bottom of my shoe that I just can't scrape off, you know that?"

"Let's get this straight; I don't like you any more than you like me."

[markantonys]

3x01 thoughts!!!!! book spoilers abound. there's also probably a ton of stuff i'll forget to comment on since i didn't stop to note anything during the episode so as not to miss even a moment of it!

i will also note that i heard some new music mixed in with previous seasons' tracks during the 15 minutes at the beginning before the event started! i can't wait for the full soundtrack!! and all of the shredding music was insanely good, i really hope there will be a nice long track on the OST that includes all of it (the piece during the battle inside the tower reminds me a lot of the rings theme from ROP, which is neat. maybe a new theme for the black ajah?)

moiraine saving siuan during the battle! i got so emotional! in the extended s3 preview after the episode, it did show siuan speaking with moiraine in the fish hut about rand needing to kneel to the tower, so i'll be intrigued to see how that conversation might come about (if it's even in the real world?) after moiraine's left tar valon without mending fences with siuan.

our first avirand interaction! 10/10 no notes! i love the bickering vibe they have to start off and am excited to watch their relationship grow over the course of the season. this episode also does a good job of explaining why they get off on the wrong foot: rand is annoyed that avi is putting her expectations onto him and being demanding of what she wants from him as the potential car'a'carn, and avi is annoyed that rand isn't living up to her expectations and doesn't have any investment in the aiel people the way the car'a'carn should.

glad to see egwene getting a chance to talk to elayne and nynaeve about her trauma and the struggles she's having in her relationship with rand. the show is committed to maintaining the weight of what happened to her in s2 and exploring how it affects her long-term! elayne going from a confidante for egwene about her relationship with rand to later rand's partner herself with egwene's blessing - i'll be super intrigued to see how they handle that shift in a future season, because it's a delicate emotional situation. i'm guessing that whatever closure randgwene gets this season will be solid enough that it will feel believable for egwene to sign off on her friends elayne & avi dating him in potentially s4.

and then later we see egwene and nynaeve teasing elayne about avi, which was so adorable <3 i always loved the book scenes of the wondergirls gossiping about their love lives together, and i'm thrilled that this episode paid homage to it!

speaking of, we ALSO got a scene of the wonderboys gossiping about their love lives together, which i don't think the books ever really did thanks to RJ's seeming conviction that guy friends don't confide in each other about personal things the way girl friends do. but the show has delivered! equality is restored!!! overall a very fun and wholesome scene between the boys here. (though we do find out by implication that rand has not told anybody the truth about having slept with a disguised lanfear, setting the stage for that to be an earthshattering discovery for egwene later. i do hope they can frame the randgwene breakup in a way that doesn't feel like lanfear/randfear is the main catalyst, but rather in a way that feels like they would have inevitably broken up regardless of that because they just aren't right for each other.)

"you don't give yourself enough credit" "no YOU don't give yourself enough credit" the boys continue to be the most wholesome besties!!

i'll admit to being sad that we didn't really get any dedicated cauthor interactions, just a couple of quick little moments slid into group scenes, but they've had so much one-on-one time in the first two seasons that i can acknowledge, objectively, it's fair to give the one-on-one time to other duos among the group in this episode haha but i'll cross my fingers for them to reunite for s4!

the moiraine-lanfear shaky temporary alliance is very intriguing! lanfear calling ishy "a gentle soul" djkfjg it's a good way to set the stage for the other forsaken and explain how they pose a different threat than what we've seen from ishy and lanfear, due to just wanting rand dead and not caring about getting him to join their side.

we also see mat uncontrollably speaking the old tongue. i cracked up the first time he did it and the gang was just like ".........." and he went "um carry on" hjdkfhkgh and then i LOVED his and nynaeve's one-on-one moment later, it was incredibly sweet and a lovely fleshing-out of a friendship duo we haven't really seen yet (on that note, pour one out for mat and egwene STILL not really getting to have an interaction, i don't think!). anyway, it's wonderful to see nynaeve slipping back into her wisdom role as caretaker of the group (and we can see that this gives her some confidence back after she's been feeling like such a failure channeling-wise), and i like that we hear about the traumatic side of mat's new hero memories with images of battles and pain and death haunting him 24/7. him admitting that he's struggling with this (and only after nynaeve pushes hard for him to admit it) after we've seen him living it up and putting smiles on all episode is such a good illustration of book!mat's whole "he'll holler about a papercut but treat a broken leg like it's nothing at all" attitude. he really sees his duty as being the light of the group and doesn't want to burden his struggling friends by confiding his own struggles in them. baby!

egwene accepted test speedrun! i was glad they made it brief but impactful, since we've already seen one in-depth test with nynaeve, no need to do it again. but her heading out of the city with rand & co at the end of the episode is the final nail in the coffin of my hopes for a gawene meeting this season :( i'll be interested to see how they get them to cross paths later, because from my perspective it seems like a tough thing to manage, logistically speaking! but you never know how they might shift things around.

in the books, gawyn's motive for defecting from elaida's army is that he hears egwene is her captive and he wants to help her. he needs to be sufficiently emotionally connected to her in order for that to happen - just a friend or a mild crush would be 100% fine, they don't need to have any real romance yet, so as long as s4(?) has them cross paths long enough to establish a good enough connection that we believe gawyn would desert his own men for egwene, we're all good. they could also change his motive, of course, but that might make me sad. unless it's a really good alternate motive! or, ooooooh, what if gawyn is still with elaida and is inside the tower during egwene's captivity arc, and he defects by helping her escape or something? that could be VERY tasty, and would delay his moment of switching sides longer to give them more time together beforehand and therefore accommodate their first meeting being pushed til later than it was in the books. i will count on gawene to be the slowburn romance i crave but have been denied elsewhere (more on that in a bit)

also, alviarin!! as we suspected. i noticed her when the cold open first dropped and i recognized her from the accepted test trailer shot, and i was like "this is the most beautiful woman i've ever seen in my life so if this really is alviarin then the shadow can take me" haha i'm excited to see more of her this season! the show continuing to bat 100 on making everybody hot! (also, we didn't get any confirmation this episode on whether tsutama and galina survived the battle, so hopefully that will come soon. galina had to have, surely, so hopefully tsutama did too!)

our first (and only this season, alas, but i expected that) randlayne scene! loved it so much! we get them bonding over duty and elayne teaching him about politics (hooooopefully a tee-up for a bigger arc of her teaching him wetlander politics in s4?), and an arm-touch and a smile. with both randlayne and avirand, they did a good job establishing a Vibe that's easy to imagine shifting into romance, but for now is subtle enough that viewers won't immediately take it as flirty and be indignant on egwene's behalf (not to mention it wouldn't fit rand's current headspace to be having flirty vibes with new people).

but who does have an overtly flirty vibe is avilayne! this was by far the most unexpected part of the episode for me. never in a million years would i have guessed they'd hook up already in 3x01. i'll be honest, and this is probably an unpopular opinion, but............i don't like it! i'm disappointed! i wanted a slowburn, i wanted to have to wait for it and build anticipation and cheer when it finally happened! i feel that i've been shortchanged out of getting to watch their relationship blossom and develop organically; instead, they've never met by the end of s2 and then by the start of s3 they're suddenly hooking up, and the only buildup we get is a couple flirty conversations and other characters telling us that they have vibes with each other. the focus on Immediate Flirting felt like the show going "hey we really want you to know immediately that both these characters are sapphic and that avirandlayne will be a throuple instead of a V in this version, so here, they're going to hook up right off the bat just so that you know right away they aren't straight" and i get shows wanting to establish characters' queerness as soon as possible since they'll be assumed straight otherwise, but the hookup didn't feel earned in my opinion (and even all the flirting was a bit too heavy too soon for my taste, oh how i love my slowburns). elayne said "finally" and i was like "what do you mean finally, i've only been watching you guys interact for 5 minutes?" it felt like i was only seeing that they're into each other, but not WHY they're into each other because, at least according to what i can still remember from the episode, so much of their pre-hookup conversation time was dedicated to flirty quips rather than meaningful conversation. for readers, them hooking up makes sense because we know how deep their book relationship is and that they're involved in a polycule together, but for show-onlys who don't have that context i feel like it would feel like a very random pair-the-spares that just kinda got dropped on them out of the blue. though i'll definitely have to rewatch to listen to those conversations more closely and see if there was more emotional depth there than i'm remembering, because i was so startled by the hookup that a lot of the episode's prior content flew out of my memory! i did like their conversation about rand and duty (and likewise elayne's conversation with rand about avi and duty), because there we do see that elayne understands avi and is able to reach her emotionally.

with siuaraine we had a wlw romance that was pre-established, and i was really looking forward to getting to watch a slowburn gradual development arc for a wlw romance with avilayne, but instead they moved faster and more offscreen than even any of the book romances ever did :( still, they DID frame it as a fairly casual thing, more flirtation and hookup than serious feelings, so i'll have to hope that they get some more depth added whenever they next see each other and that we'll get to watch their relationship grow and evolve and have an actual arc. me, i never like it when a romance is too easy in fiction! i don't want to see any of my favorite ships just fit together perfectly immediately and get together right away with no problems and be perfectly happy forever thereafter! hopefully, the addition of rand into the relationship will present a nice new emotional spin on the established avilayne dynamic so that we can watch their relationship with each other shift and grow. (and i JUST KNOW that avilayne already being a thing pre-rand will 100000x worsen the "why is a man ruining my f/f ship!!!!" reactions from certain segments of queer WOT fandom when he does start joining lmao and i'm sure plenty of show-onlys who don't already know about the polycule will be like "wait but i thought they were lesbians??" when they start having vibes with rand because audiences often tend to forget that bisexuality exists and assume that a character's sexuality is 100% determined by the gender of their first onscreen partner.)

so, yeah! i don't like this change, and i don't think i'll ever like it as much as i would have liked a proper avilayne slowburn no matter what else the show does with it in future seasons, but hey, getting explicit confirmation that romantic avilayne is in the cards is of course a great thing, so in that respect i am happy! i think i am just Like This about wanting to really be made to wait for it with romances, because i remember watching s1 as a show-only and being shocked that lanaeve hooked up when they did because it felt way too early to me.

on the other end of the spectrum of avilayne being thrown together too fast, we also have randgwene getting dragged out too long. i like their scenes in this episode and i'm sure it will be a very well-written emotional arc, and they DO need closure what with the way the show set up their relationship in the first two seasons, but again, just not my favorite adaptational change. i think i would've liked it more if we saw them break up in this episode and then navigate the emotional waters of Exes On A Roadtrip in the rest of the season as opposed to them probably spending most of the season both clinging onto an obviously dead relationship in a way that kinda feels like a waste of time and makes it so that there's even less breathing room in between their breakup with each other and their getting-togethers with their future partners, but of course we've only seen one episode so i'll have to wait and see how it all unfolds! if they break up in ep5 (which is when "egwene learns rand's dark secret," and maddy mentioned having a really good and cathartic scene with josha under the block 3 director), then that would leave a few episodes post-breakup to let the dust settle and watch them begin to build a new equilibrium with each other, and then i'd guess there might be a month+ timeskip between s3 and s4 to give them time to travel back out of the waste.

okay that's enough criticisms considering that i truly did LOVE this episode haha it's only that The Romances are my most-highly-anticipated thing so i get extra-sensitive to things not playing out Exactly The Way I Envisioned. but in the past the show has always delivered something even better than what i'd envisioned in the times when it went in a direction i didn't expect, so i will wait and see and trust in rafe & co!

moving on! i want to quickly revisit elayne trying to smooth things over with avi and rand, which i mentioned briefly above in the avilayne discussion. i loved these moments so much!!! elayne taking her duties as Chief Communicator Of The Future Polycule very seriously haha i'm so delighted that we did get a little connection formed between the three of them in this episode, but in an appropriately subtle way for the very very early stage we're in here. they definitely did a good job of establishing foundations to revisit later next time these three are together, even if i wish avilayne's foundation wasn't established QUITE this firmly this soon lmao although, now we're opening the door for "how to establish a polycule when two partners have already hooked up?" (or rather, have already hooked up AND parted on good terms that make it clear a repeat would be welcome, as opposed to book!rand having pre-polycule hookups but then parting on bad terms and thinking there's no future), and that could be quite an interesting new emotional spin on the polycule to look at. from avi's bafflement at the idea of Lying With No One Else in s2, it seems open relationships might be the norm for aiel, but how would elayne react to reuniting with avi & rand and learning that avi is growing interested in rand? would she feel any jealousy at first, or would she be all aboard right away? maybe we could get elayne trying to wingman avi with rand while also developing a crush on him herself, that would be adorable and hilarious.

and there's also the min of it all - if elayne joins up with avi & rand for s4 (which...........i feel like she HAS to, it's the only window of opportunity for making those relationships happen, and rand will definitely be in need of a wetlands politics teacher since moiraine will be gone without having taught him much about it yet), will min come with her? will she join the polycule in s4 as well? it's very interesting that, again, another episode with min and rand in the same city but they did not cross paths, so now we know they won't see each other all season. given that, would it feel too rushed for him to be romancing her as well as avi and elayne in s4? they DID already have a meaningful one-on-one scene in s1, so now on equal grounds with randlayne there, but that will have been aaaaages ago (for both the characters and the audience) by the time s4 rolls around, so i don't know if it would be able to lead into s4 romance the way randlayne's more recent meaningful one-on-one scene might (plus, it's established that randlayne spent a month together and consider each other friends now, whereas min only met rand for an evening).

(given that it's now twice that the show has had rand and min in the same location and chosen not to have them interact (granted, there wasn't much space for min in this episode since it was already jam-packed), i'm continuing to lean towards my theory that they'll focus on avirandlayne for now and min will be an optional addon to the polycule if they have enough time. though her scenes with elayne this season might change that prediction if they feel like they're setting up for her to join the polycule sooner rather than later!)

maiden's kiss, 10/10 spectacular and hot and we finally got official confirmation of what the game entails, god bless. mat wants to get pegged by bain and chiad confirmed, and then "the spears get closer if you're a bad kisser" followed by mat having a dozen cuts on his neck when we next see him is a great continuation of the Nobody Wants Mat Carnally saga jdkfjgh but then chiad winks at him as she's leaving at the end of the episode which cracked me up. they just like messing with him, and he likes being messed with. good for all of them!

(also mat's toast being like "may we all get hot redheaded girlfriends" put him in the polycule so help me god!)

and we got our confirmation that the new shadowspawn type is indeed gray men! and Show Lore drop that moggy is the only forsaken who knows how to make them (and we see her doing just that), which is super interesting. it was really cool how they filmed it too and how they managed to convey the concept of an assassin that people's eyes just slide off, with the way he's just kind of glimpsed in the background of shots until the moment he attacks, and then nynaeve and the audience are very much aware of his presence but mat is still totally oblivious (though that may have also been due to lanfear entrancing him with the cards).

moiraine listening to everybody screaming in pain and refusing to help and ordering lan not to help was diabolical in the best way! the layers this woman has! and then we get the reveal that the gray man was NOT part of lanfear's scheme and therefore things got even more out of hand than she, moiraine, or lan had anticipated. also a great moment for showing lan's conflicting loyalties between moiraine and nynaeve, and him actually being angry with moiraine for her decision was a great and needed aspect of the scene.

also, confirmation that all the happenings were caused by lanfear (and moggy), so we get the bubbles of evil events without the show needing to introduce a new type of magic fuckery by using the concept of bubbles of evil as the cause for the events. a great decision!

and they did good setup with everybody's motives for wanting to go to their different locations, despite their initial plan of wanting to stay together. i wish so badly that we could have had more time with the gang all together and get to have even more one-on-one scenes for the duos who didn't get them, but i always figured they'd probably be heading out on their missions for the season at the end of ep1 instead of lollygagging around the city for a second episode. we gotta get the ball rolling!

okay! that's all the thoughts off the top of my head, but there was so much to unpack in this episode and i don't know if i even got to half of it! i'm looking forward to rewatching this episode again in the future when i can absorb it better and also pause and make notes haha i think i won't rewatch any individual episode until after the whole season is out, though, and then i'll rewatch the whole season at once (maybe not immediately after it's over, i might give it a few weeks), at which time my thoughts on ep1 might be significantly different having seen the full season.

[lillaydee]

Shhh!!! Part 18

Celebrity!Joel Miller / F Reader

A reluctant celebrity contractor who has closed his heart for love meets a celebrity-hating Cafe on Wheels owner...

She HATES him. Thing is, he couldn't get enough of the coffee she makes...

Tag List:

@kirsteng42 @peelieblue @harriedandharassed @joelalorian @vickie5446 @inept-the-magnificent @maried01 @brittmb115 @peedrow @lovefreylove @jessthebaker @bunniboo0015 @demonsasss

Let me know if you would like to be added/removed from the tag list.

Dividers by the awesome @saradika

Header by Moi cause I learned how to use Canva! Yay me!

WARNINGS: Grumpy Joel (The Last of Us), Protective Joel (The Last of Us), Good Parent Joel (The Last of Us), Joel is Bad at Feelings (The Last of Us), Alternate Universe - No Cordyceps Outbreak (The Last of Us), Joel Needs a Hug (The Last of Us), Celebrity Joel Miller, Fluff and Angst, Eventual Smut, I'm Bad At Tagging, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Tags May Change, Hurt Joel (The Last of Us), Jealousy.

SERIES MASTER LIST

Part 17

“You were not supposed to receive that NDA, Joel. I was going to take care of it…” Angela tried, placing her hand on the younger man’s shoulder, the man actively avoiding Joel’s eyes, trying to get him out of her office.

Tommy took a step back, blocking the door.

“Aunt Angie? You realize this was the guy who assaulted Lily? You know him? He’s your nephew?” Tommy snarled, looking at Angela in disbelief.

“It’s a misunderstanding guys, it wasn’t supposed to escalate…” Angela finally answered, after a very long, tense, silence.

“What are you talking about? What was supposed to happen?” Tommy asked, seeing his brother unable to speak from his rage. Tess was staying close, worried the man might hulk out. Neither she nor Tommy had ever seen him this angry.

It turned out, Angela had called her financially strapped nephew, Eddie, after seeing the four of you at dinner that night. He was nearby, and Angela offered him free use of one of her low limit credit cards in exchange for doing that. He was only supposed to harass you and Joel verbally, basically annoy you, or maybe make Joel angry and show his ‘true colours’, make you think twice about spending time with him. But the guy got too excited, went too far, and got physical with you instead. When things went wrong, she made sure to use her resources to delete every single footage from the internet, steering Joel and Tommy away from probing into the matter further, seemingly succeeding before Tommy let slip that Sarah might have a copy. It was the reason she was so hellbent on getting her hands on Sarah’s phone. She even installed a malware on the new phone she got for Sarah to replace her broken one, intent on getting access to Sarah’s cloud. That went to pot, Tommy was too suspicious.

“All that because you didn’t want Lily to spend time with Joel?” Tommy asked, shaking his head.

“There’s something about her, guys… I just don’t trust her. I don’t believe she’s good for Joel!”

“You were all buddy-buddy with her lately, but she’s not good for Joel?” Tommy’s voice was rising higher and higher every time he spoke. “What’s that got to do with the NDA? Did you sign it?” he asked Joel, who simply shook his head, eyes still on Angela, looking as if he was plotting her murder and body disposal all at the same time. “So you forged his signature? You know that’s a crime, right? What did Lily say when you gave her the NDA? You told us you hadn’t seen her!”

Angela kept quiet.

Tess opened the door to the office. “Excuse me, what’s your name?” Tess peeked outside, asking the young man who gave Joel the NDA.

“Andrew, miss.”

“Will you come in here?”

Andrew walked in, looking bewildered.

“Who served this to Miss Stevens?” Joel asked, picking up the NDA.

“I did, Mr Miller. Ms Maddison asked me to deliver it and wait for her to sign it.”

If looks could kill, Andrew would be dead several times over, given how Angela was glaring at him.

“You saw her? Where?” Joel perked up a little.

“The hospital. She was taking care of her uncles. They were injured in the accident.”

Joel’s blood ran cold. “What accident? Her uncles were in an accident? Are they okay?”

“They had casts on their legs, if I recall correctly.”

“You knew this? And you didn’t tell me?” Joel asked Angela, who remained quiet.

Tess looked at Eddie who was still standing sheepishly at the corner of the room, his way out still blocked by Tommy. Her eyes were drawn to the cast on his wrist.  

“What happened to your wrist?”

The man hid his hand in his jacket.

“Angela?”

Angela looked at her feet, her hands fiddling with each other.

“I’m calling the cops, they’ll figure this out,” Tommy said, pulling his phone out.

“No! Wait! I’ll tell you,” Angela pleaded. She took a deep breath and leaned on her table, head hung down.

“I needed a way to stall Lily so she wouldn’t go to Texas, so, I asked Eddie to delay her uncles so that she would stay with them here.”

The three looked confused.

“Joel you were moving at warp speed with her, it’s not good. I’m only trying to protect you, Joel. I keep telling you that, but you wouldn’t listen to me,” she looked at Joel. “He was supposed to instigate a small accident, a fender bender with the uncles, so Lily would get worried and want to stay and help them out, so she wouldn’t be in Texas with you.”

The three still looked confused.

“But… uh… he overdid it, and her uncles ended up badly injured. They’re fine, by the way, broken leg, fractured ribs, but…that was not part of the plan.”

“What the fuck, Angela. You could have killed people! You asked your nephew to do this to stop Lily from going to Texas? What else have you done?” Tommy asked disbelievingly, unaware how loaded that question was.

She looked to be contemplating for a while, but ultimately decided she had nothing more to lose. She knew they would find out anyway, now that they knew about her nephew, there was no hiding this.

She recalled that day in your truck. You had left your phone unlocked on the counter when you went to the bathroom. Her idiot nephew had texted her that the accident went a bit too far than planned, that he was sure the uncles were badly injured. She panicked, worried that the uncles would be able to identify Eddie and her involvement in this whole thing would come out in the open. But she saw the perfect opportunity then, one that she didn’t think she could pull off.

She had had the NDA drafted out since she saw you that birthday dinner night. She left when Tommy asked her to but stayed across the street, hoping to find out more. She saw Tommy and Maria leave with the girls, her heart breaking at the thought that you and Joel were completely alone in the house, that everyone was so supportive of this union that they left the house to give the two of you some privacy. Her jealousy reared it’s ugly head when she recalled how dismissive Sarah and Ellie were of her, so quick to question her presence, when she was the one who had been there all long for Joel. Yet, here you were, very much welcomed after a few months.

Tears began filling her eyes when she saw you come out to accept a delivery, wearing Joel’s flannel. She watched as Joel passionately kissed you in his doorway, lifting you up into his arms and kicking the door shut behind him. It didn’t take a genius to figure out what was happening behind that door. She drafted that NDA as soon as she got home. She knew she was going to use it against you. But she didn’t know how to get it to you without making you suspicious of her intents.

And now, luck was on her side.

So she picked up your phone and quickly changed the Millers’ phone numbers to the slew of disposable numbers she had on hand, the ones she used to tip off the paparazzi and such. She then deleted all texts from the Millers, blocked all their original numbers from your phone, calling Eddie, telling him to take Bill and Frank’s phones. He didn’t need to, evidently, the phones destroyed in the crash. She blocked Joel’s email address from your phone too, for good measure. She later logged into Joel’s email to block your email. She was doing whatever she could to make sure you and Joel couldn’t contact each other. She didn’t even know if it would work, but lucky for her, it did. You signed the NDA without protest, according to Andrew.

Tommy closed his eyes.

“So she didn’t ghost me?” Joel asked, looking hopeful.

“No. But she signed the NDA Joel. She wouldn’t have if she was really in love with you. I tried to warn you about her…” Angela tried.

“Wait… wait, wait, wait…” Tess said, taking her phone out. She googled something, finding it, and looked at the NDA again.

“This was signed on the day this article came out,” she told Joel, showing him the article ‘announcing their engagement’. She turned to look at Angela once more, “You arranged this, didn’t you?” When she couldn’t answer, Tess pressed, “Angela, you told me she was a gold digger, that she was after Joel’s money, that she was sleeping around on Joel. I believed you! And now I find out you did all this too? Why would you go through all this trouble to separate them? Because Joel didn’t want to renew? You know he had talked about that way before he met Lily?”

“That’s why you treated Lily like that?” Joel asked Tess. Tess looked regretful,

“She’s been our friend forever, Joel! I’ve known this woman over 20 years! I didn’t see a reason not to believe her! I’m sorry! I thought I was protecting you!”

“Why?” Joel finally managed to grit out to Angela, his chest heaving, his eyes lasered in on hers.

Her expression turned sour. Her eyes were filling with tears.

“Joel…” she whispered.

“WHY!!!???” he screamed, his face red, his neck taut.

Angela jerked, shutting her eyes for a while. When they opened, there was only anger in them.

She remembered the young man she met over 20 years ago, extremely good looking, polite, a great father to Sarah, a gentleman to everyone he came across. He was a great friend, a great man overall. She fell for him, hard. But the man was grieving. He made it very clear he was not looking for anyone to replace Laura. His focus was and would always be on Sarah, he didn’t have time for a relationship.

She remembered thinking he would get over his grief soon. And when he does, she would be there for him. She suggested a friends with benefits situation, telling him that she didn’t have time for relationships either. Just sex, no romance, none of that bullshit, she had told him. So they did, in the privacy of his shipping container makeshift office onsite. She swallowed her pride every time he refused to kiss her, every time he refused foreplay with her, every time he refused a date with her, every time he refused the suggestion of a hotel room, her office, his truck, her car, her home, much less his home with her. She swallowed it all, hoping that he would open his eyes and finally see her.

But he never did.

When she saw what she thought was clearly a double date at the sushi place that night, she got desperate. She eventually made nice with you, hoping to find things about you she could use to separate you and Joel. But when you excitedly told her Joel had asked you to move in with him, after only two months of dating, she snapped.

“Twenty years we’ve been friends, Joel. Twenty years. When we met, you were a lowly single father who barely made ends meet. Look at you now. Look at how successful you are now. I did this. I got you here. And after everything, you scream at me? Because of that lowly barista?”

The last smidgen of patience left Joel’s body. Tommy grabbed his arm, stopping him from moving towards the woman.

“Why?” he repeated.

“I waited for you, Joel. You made it clear, you were not ready for a relationship. So I waited. And waited. And then I waited some more. And then Bam! You’re ready! And instead of coming back to me, the woman who have stood by you all these years, who wanted you over 20 years ago, back when you had nothing, the one who helped you get everything you have now, you went to her! Why have you never asked me out to dinner Joel? Why have I never been invited to your house outside of work?”

“Do you think it was easy for me to watch you kiss her on the lips when I never got that? I watched you invite her to share your bed, practically live at your house, which I helped you choose, when all I ever got was an hour every now and then at your dingy office? Why do I get treated like some glorified sex toy and she gets to be loved by you? Why should I watch you move her in after two months together when I have been waiting in the wings for twenty years only to be pushed aside, Joel? Why her? What does she have that I don’t?”

She sobbed.

“The heart wants what it wants, Angela. And my heart wants her. Not you.”

Angela nodded weakly. “I know. I see that now. Even after everything, you still pine for her. Even when she left you without so much of an explanation,” she whispered, shaking her head, finally accepting defeat, watching helplessly as Tommy called for security.

Angela was gone by the time security called the cops, Eddie in their custody. She rushed home, packed up her bags and booked it out of LA. Eddie may have been an idiot, but she knew he would sing as soon as he was in custody. She knew, she just knew her life as she knew it was over. There was no way Joel and Tommy, even Tess, would keep quiet about this. Even if they did, Eddie would blab so fast if it meant he would get leniency for the hit and run. She was at least guilty for conspiring to cause harm, twice over. And even if she got off lightly on those charges, the fact that she forged Joel’s signature on a legal document was not something that would go forgotten and unpunishable by law. At the very least, she would lose this job. Her reputation would go to pot. She would lose every single thing she held dear.

Damn you, she thought, this was all your fault. Why’d you have to be so perfect for Joel? She did research on you. Cleo’s ‘exposure’ merely confirmed what she already knew - that you were a nice person who didn’t let money get to your head. She couldn’t even find it in her to hate you when she was pretending to be nice to you. Even when she was actively trying to sabotage you, she liked you. In a different world, she would be more than happy to be your friend.

She was so deep in thought, she didn’t realize she had run a red light. The sounds of screeching tires snapped her out of her stupor, and the last thing she saw was the shining logo of a huge pickup truck coming fast from her left.

“Hi Baby,” Tommy greeted Maria with a kiss, closing the door behind her. Maria walked into the living room, where the expectant faces of Joel, Sarah, Ellie and Tess greeted her.

“Sorry guys, not good news,” she said, giving the girls and Tess a hug, and a kiss for Joel.

“That’s not possible,” Tommy said, “Everyone leaves a trail these days.”

“Not her,” Maria said. “She was in LA until about two weeks after she was supposed to go to Austin, and then she just… disappeared. Two months - she didn’t use her card, didn’t withdraw any money, didn’t purchase anything, didn’t fly anywhere, didn’t rent a car, didn’t check into a hotel… she’s just… gone.”

“How the hell is that possible?”

Maria shrugged. “Frank didn’t make any purchase either, it’s just weird.”

“Are they…?” Sarah asked, not daring to finish the sentence.

“No obituaries.”

Joel, Sarah and Ellie heaved a sigh of relief.

“Are you sure you don’t know Bill’s last name? His condo and car are in Lily’s name.” Maria looked at the three expectantly, kicking herself for never asking either.

“No, I sorta forgot they were not really related, I assumed it’s Stevens too, and I just knew Jenny as Jenny, didn’t think of a last name,” Ellie said, banging her head on Sarah’s shoulder.

“Same.”

“Her LA bank account is active, Dave has been depositing his payments to her. But no withdrawal. Her phone number is disconnected. Tracking one Lily Stevens among thousands is not easy. It would help if we knew where Jenny lives,” she looked at Joel.

Joel rubbed his face, “The woman is a comedian. New York today, Tibet the next, she told me she was in the South Pole once. I never thought I needed to ask. She was coming here for Christmas,” he said, lips wobbling, thinking about Christmas without you. He even ordered a stocking for you, far too excited to have you and your family with him and his family during the holidays.

“I’m gonna go to the truck tomorrow, talk to Dave myself. See if I can get him to talk,” Maria said.

“I’ll go with you,” Tess offered, eager to help.

Joel was quiet. As he had been since you stopped communicating. God, he missed you so much. He knew you wouldn’t just leave for no reason. Even before he knew the truth, he couldn’t find it in him to hate you for leaving. He knew you, he may have only known you for a short time, but he knew you. He just did. Even the girls couldn’t be angry at you.

When he finally told Sarah the truth about Laura, Sarah was angry for him, but not for herself. She was angry for Joel. She had zero memory of her. To her, Joel was both Mom and Dad, so to know someone, even her own birth mother had hurt him as such, it hurt her. But with you, Sarah cried with him, trying everything she could do to help him find you. Not for one second was she angry at you, even as she was hugging her crying Dad. They just knew you wouldn’t have left for no reason. They knew you didn’t have a bad bone in your body.

But even after finding the truth, finding you was proving to be quite the challenge. Maria pulled all the tricks she had up her sleeves, but it was as if you had anticipated she would look for you, so you took steps to avoid her and her ways. But Maria was a determined woman. She had yet to fail in her endeavours. And by God, she was going to find you.

She and Tess went to the truck early the next morning, promising Joel they would bring a cup home for him, not that he was looking forward to it. He had long known it wasn’t the coffee he was addicted to. The cheap swill he got at the sites would taste like the most expensive coffee in the world if you had poured it for him. He just wanted you.

“Dave,” Maria called, the man smiling at her despite himself. “Can we have two cappuccinos please? And one americano, with…”

“Six shots of espressos to go… yeah, I’ll be right with you,” Dave answered, waving Maria’s card away. “Zach, do you mind getting some pastries from Betty? I’m kinda hungry,” he said.

Zach finished wiping the counter and jumped out of the truck, greeting Maria with a smile and a hug. He shook Tess’s hand, introducing himself.

Later, the four were sitting down, Maria filling Dave in on the news about Angela. The men looked uncomfortable, shaking their heads, shocked that someone would go that far to separate two people in love.

“Can’t believe she would do that to Lil, and Bill and Frank too… wow… I mean, they are the nicest people I know, and for her to hate Lil that much… phew…” Zach said, shaking his head.

“So, we know you promised Lily you wouldn’t tell her anything about her whereabouts, but could you please tell her what we just told you? We need her to know the truth,” Tess coaxed.

“No can do,” Dave said, looking apologetic. “She wouldn’t give me her contact info. Something about being traceable. I guess she was right,” he said, smiling at Maria.

Maria looked at Zach, who raised both his hands in surrender, “Hey, you know I would do anything for Lil, but like Dave, I have no idea how to contact her,” he said.

Tess was about to say something else, but Maria simply said she understood, picking up her coffee, thanking Dave and Zach for their kindness. She asked Zach if he was working for Dave now?

“Nah, it’s my off day, just hanging out here for the day.”

“How’s your job going by the way?” Maria asked.

“Great, couldn’t be happier,” Zach said, looking content.

“You manage an apartment building, right? Tess here is looking. Any vacancies?”

“Yeah, but I don’t think it’s the kind of place a TV star lives in,” Zach said, smiling.

“Well, it doesn’t hurt to keep her options open. You have a card?” Maria pushed.

“Yeah, here,” Zach handed the card over, hugging Maria goodbye.

Maria practically pulled Tess away from the truck. “What are you doing? I promised Penny I would look for a house! I can’t live in an apartment. We have dogs!”

Maria shushed her, dialling someone on her phone. “Chris? Need you to repeat the search, this time, look for anything under the name Zachary Wellison.”

“Here’s your coffee, thank you for coming!” you handed the coffee to the nice older lady who had now become your regular. You turned around to see Benny, your other regular smiling at you, asking for his usual.

“Come on, Lil, you said you’ll think about it,” he cooed. He’d been trying to fix you up for a while, first it was himself, then his brother Will, then his buddy Santi, and now, it’s Frankie, both of whom lived at the other end of the country.

“No, thank you! I told you, I’m not ready!”

“Come on, Lil, just one date, you’ll love him, I promise. He’s perfect,” he said.

You narrowed your eyes at him.

“Okay, he has PTSD. And maybe some other issues but… he looks like that contractor guy you were dating. Although… now that I think about it… that might not be the best idea, huh?” he said, cringing a little. You passed him his coffee and shooed him off, taking the rag to rinse, as the bell on the door chimed.  

“Can I have the largest mocha you have and ten minutes to talk please?” a customer asked. You turned around, your service smile at the ready, only to come face to face with Tess.

You felt you head go cold. You retreated, “I’m not supposed to speak to you,” you whispered, turning around to go into the kitchen. She caught up with you, gently taking your hand.

“Lily, please, ten minutes. He’s not here. You had the wrong info. I swear. Please, ten minutes, I’m begging you.”

“Go, Beanie, I have the till,” your Mom coaxed, pushing you gently towards Tess.

You sat across from her, your Mom placing a cup of latte in front of you and a mocha for Tess. You didn’t speak, just waiting for her to say her piece.

“First of all Lily, I want to apologize for the way I treated you back at Joel’s. I listened to the wrong person. I thought I could trust her, I’ve known her for 20 years, I never thought she would lie to me. Angela told me you were after Joel’s money, that you were sleeping around and Joel was too blind to see it. I believed her. I’m sorry. I admit I was rude to you on purpose. I wanted you to know I didn’t like you. I went o stay at his place instead of a hotel just because I wanted you to be insecure. I pushed the girls into spending time with me instead of you, I guilted them when they said you had plans, they didn’t do anything wrong. That thing with his flannel, the phone, I did it all because I wanted you to feel unwelcomed. I’m sorry.”

You didn’t respond, you simply looked at her, your face expressionless.

“See, I feel responsible for Joel, for his late wife breaking his heart.”

You frowned.

“I was Eddie’s fiancée. Laura was my best friend. I introduced Joel to her.”

Oh…

She took a sip from her drink, looking at you, as if trying to gauge your reaction.

“I was… not myself when I was with Eddie. He wanted me to be a housewife. Raise his children, cook his food, clean his house… I never wanted that. He kept comparing me to Laura. She was perfect, as far as he was concerned. I should have seen the affair coming, but I didn’t, I was too wrapped up in my own stuff, my own worries. If I had, I would have warned Joel.”

The doorbell chimed, a woman walked in, smiling at Tess. She joined the two of you after ordering a cup of coffee for herself.

“Lily, this is Penny, my fiancée.”

Huh? Oh.

Oh…

“Joel and I, we were never an item. Just old friends. I was with Eddie because I was hiding who I really was. But when he wanted me to be the little woman, I just thought… this was not the life I signed up for. This was not worth me hiding who I really am. So I left him. And Eddie, he just went straight for Laura. I read the letter she left him. She was just waiting for me and Eddie to split. And he took advantage of her obsession with him and just took her right from under Joel. Joel got his heart broken because I left Eddie. That’s why I am so protective of him, and any relationship he has. Even if the accident hadn’t happened, she was going to leave him for Eddie. I feel guilty, responsible, in fact, for his heart breaking. For Sarah not having a mother. Believe me, if not for Angela, I would not have treated you like that.”

“Angela did this?”

She nodded. She told you everything Angela did, the when, the how, the why. “The NDA was not legitimate in the first place. Angela forged Joel’s signature. It’s null and void. Joel didn’t know any of it, had nothing to do with it. He didn’t do anything wrong. He never gave up hope, Lily. He kept looking for you, waiting for you. Maria never gave up either. The girls, they scour LA at every chance they had, in case they would run into you. They were glued to their phones when they’re home, looking for any signs of you. They all love you, Lily, and if not for Angela, you and Joel would be so happy right now.”

Tess saw the anger in your eyes, quickly adding, “Angela, she received her karma. She tried to run, after her nephew was brought in for questioning. Her car got T-boned just as she was leaving LA. She’s paralyzed from the neck down. She’ll be living the rest of her days in a nursing facility. Joel and Tommy are footing the bills, a kindness for all the years they had been friends, despite everything.” She smiled when she saw your anger soften.

“He’s so in love with you, Lily, believe me, he is. The man hasn’t enjoyed a cup of coffee since you ‘ghosted’ him. Please give him a chance.”

You were pottering about in your cottage, distracting yourself. They found you. You shouldn’t have used Zach’s name to make the bookings. You thought you were so clever, driving the 18 hours with your injured Uncles in the back of the spacious MPV all the way to your Mom’s ranch in Jackson rather than flying. You actually thought you did it, months passed and no one came-a-lookin’. And then, Tess was here. Damn Maria and her powers of investigation.

You hadn’t even used your cards or withdrew any cash, your Mom agreeing to foot the bills for a few months until you were convinced you were old news in their minds. She was just happy you and your Uncle Bill were finally here. She had spent years coaxing the two of you to move back in with her.

Well, she said move back in, by that she meant move into the cottages at the other ends of her vast property. She lived in the main house, overseeing the workings of your late grandparents’ properties and ranches. Lola, the lady who used to take care of Claire and Cleo’s family moved with her, married Carl the manager and now helped run the ranch. She opened a café, Lil’ Beans, named after you, out of boredom about a year after moving here. You managed it for her, your way of helping out, since you didn’t know which end of a horse was which.

Your Uncles were far too happy to be here. Once healed, they got right into country living, your Uncle Bill building and fixing everything he could get his hands on, Frank painting everything he saw. They were planning to move permanently once the situation ‘died down’, according to your Uncle Bill.

And you… you were just… living. You heart stopped every time someone came in to order an americano, worried that it would be followed by ‘six shots of espressos’. But as much as you were dreading those words, every day that you flipped the close sign at the end of the day, you were disappointed not to have heard them.

Listening to Tess today, you felt stupid. Stupid to not see Angela and her manipulation. She had been so nice to you. You wanted to kick yourself at how easily she managed this. You fucking left her in your truck with your unlocked phone for five minutes, and she turned your life upside down.

Your mind kept thinking about what would have happened if you just flew to Austin as soon as your Uncles were discharged. Dave was there, so was Zach, they could have helped, but you were too hasty, too clouded, too hurt by the NDA that you rushed straight into running, only to find out it was all a lie, that you could have had good night sleeps all this while in Joel’s arms.

God, you missed him.

And now that you knew the truth, what now? Do you go running back to LA? You couldn’t really see it anymore. You loved it here. It’s quiet, calm, relaxing. You loved your new, more relaxed routine with the café. You had staff to open early for you, roast the beans for you. You got to take long walks here, the air was fresh and clean here, you could hear your own thoughts here.

As much as you miss him, the girls and the life you had with them, you didn’t know if you wanted to go back to that city, the traffic, the smog, the noise.

The celebrities.

No… you couldn’t. That was not the life for you.

And would you go back to him, in the light of all this revelation?

There was a knock on the door. And then another. And then another.

Who was it? Your people didn’t knock multiple times. They knocked once as a warning and walked in. You went to the front door and opened it, your breathing caught in your throat when you saw who it was.

God he looked good.

And all the negative thoughts about going back to LA seemed to park themselves at the back of your head.

It was as if your body was pulled to him against your will. You didn’t want to go to him, trying hard to stay your resolve. No more. Life with a celebrity… there was too much drama. That life was not for you. Look what had happened in your life since he came into it. You got pulled out of a truck, fell on your ass and pulled in every direction, all of it caught on camera, filmed, for the whole world to see. Your personal life became public knowledge. Your Uncles almost died. And though everything else was not his fault, you couldn’t risk feeling like that ever again, feeling the way you felt when pictures of him and Tess holding hands flooded your screen every time you browse the internet. When Cleo pulled him into a kiss in front of the world. What if another Cleo came into the picture? No… you couldn’t possibly.

But he was here, in your doorway, looking tired and miserable, woe begone as a sad young boy whose favourite toy was taken from him. You leaned your head on the inside of the door frame, not wanting to invite him in, pulling your sweater close to your body to avoid the chill outside from getting to you. He placed his gloved hand on the wall outside your door, resting his head on the other side of the door frame, his other hand in his pocket.

Your eyes found each other.

He leaned in, as close as he could without touching you, nose just above the top of your head, inhaling deeply, eyes filling with tears as he took in the scent he had missed oh so much, taking more and more deep, stuttered breaths as he did, whispering how much he missed you. That he didn’t know Angela was doing what she did, that he would have done anything to turn back time, take it all back, that he would do anything to have you back in his life, even if it meant he would only be a friend. Please baby. I miss you so much. I’m sorry. I’m so very sorry. Please. Please. Please.

Against your wishes, your eyes closed, taking in the familiar scent of his old leather jacket, the way his breathing sounded, his musk, the phantom feel of his scruff against your skin. His whispers were so familiar, taking you back to the times the two of you would lie in bed wrapped up in each other, the times he would say something naughty into your ears while having meals with the girls, the times when you woke up to him pressed up against your back, saying good morning in his crackly baritone.

Fuck, you missed him.

You pulled back from him, looking him in the eyes that were full of tears, hope and yearning, the serious look he saw in yours beginning to fill his own with dread.

“I just have one question for you, Joel Miller.”

His eyes turned quizzical, a small, final, glimmer of hope still in them.

You took a deep breath, and with a slight stutter in your breath, you asked him.

“Little hug? Or big hug?”

Epilogue

[imtryingbuck]

Possible Happy Ending

~ gif not mine credit to owner ~

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x fem!Reader, past Steve x fem!Reader

Summary: It’s been three years since Reader left Steve, after bumping into someone she might have the chance of a happy ending.

Word count: 1,156

Warnings: swearing, self-doubting. I’m pretty sure that’s it.

Masterlist

Part 1 / Part 2 / Part 3

Three years have been and gone since you finally decided to leave Steve it hasn’t gotten any easier but you’re doing okay. Your mum rang you a few days after you left panicking saying Steve had showed up that you and your stuff had gone. A month after you left Steve and Sharon went public with their relationship, you were devastated so you went to the local shelter and got two kittens why? You’re not entirely sure but you love them both so much.

Four months after you left, you’re walking to the local cafe when suddenly you bump into someone straight away your spluttering apologies when your name is suddenly said. Bucky is standing in front of you with a big smile on his face asking where you have been; how you’ve been. You both head to the cafe to talk and it’s going amazingly well. He tells you he missed seeing you around and that Steve looked for you everywhere. You exchange numbers with him promising not to tell Steve, even though he’s with Sharon now you don’t want him showing up as you just simply can’t deal with that anymore.

In the following weeks and months after meeting Bucky again he becomes your best friend (your only friend too) he comes to the apartment every Friday and even sometimes stays until Sunday. He truly is the sweetest man ever, his favourite thing to do is wind the cats up and getting them hyper just before he leaves. It drives you crazy you complain with a smile on your face as you can’t even imagine to be mad at him not when he has that stupid beautiful smile on his face. 

Now you’re not exactly sure when it started but the feelings for Bucky were starting to get out of hand, you knew yourself it would be so wrong to say anything to him about how you had this butterfly tingling feeling in your stomach which has now turned into pterodactyls trying to break out of your stomach every time he looks at you. It’s wrong. He’s your ex-boyfriends best friend. Plus he’s James Buchanan Barnes he’s not going to like you the only reason why he’s here at your apartment every weekend ordering pizza or Chinese and talking to you about anything and everything for hours is because he feels sorry for you. Idiot.

A year after you left it went public that the it couple known as Steve and Sharon had broken up. From what Bucky told you Steve apparently walked into the apartment he shared with you and caught Sharon cheating with a guy Steve had been suspicious of. According to Buck Steve was crying out your name and begging up at the ceiling for you to come home.

A few days after that Steve was seen with a new woman on his arm. Your sister.

Your heart shattered, ringing your mum she told you that everyone thought it was okay for your sister to date you ex because he was your ex. You hung up and cried. The tears didn’t last long though as Bucky let himself into your apartment and found you in bed crying so he climbed into bed with you and cuddled you. You’re pretty sure you both ended up watching The Big Bang Theory but couldn’t remember as you were too busy watching Bucky laughing and stroking one of the cats.

Your sister and Steve didn’t last two months because every time they had sex it was your name finally spilling from his mouth.

It’s your birthday and the plan was to have a nice hot relaxing bath then order yourself a Chinese and curl up on the couch with the cats and watch your favourite show. Simple and plain. That was until your favourite person knocked on the door with a huge bouquet of your favourite flowers, Chinese food and a bag with ‘happy birthday’ written across it. He tells you that you shouldn’t be spending your birthday on your own, so you point to the cats and with that he lets out that sound that makes your heart flutter. Halfway through the fourth episode of the series he suggested, you notice him looking at you, so you pull a weird face which again makes him let out that sound. You mentally scold your idiotic heart to stop fluttering.

“Y/n I need to tell you something” he speaks so softly and instantly you can tell he’s nervous.

“What’s up Buck” trying to hard not to stumble over three simple words.

“I-um w-well I need y I-I need to tell you s-s-something” he’s struggling and that gets you scared.

“B-Bucky you can tell me anything you know this” God if you’re real please kill me. Now.

Taking a deep breath, he says “iminlovewithyou”

“What? Say that again Buck but slower” did I just hear correctly? No. He didn’t just say that you idiot. Wishful thinking though pal.

“I’m in love with you. I have been since you stitched up my arm even though I heal fast six years ago. W-when he told me you two was dating, I was crushed and I knew it was wrong your was my best friends girlfriend but I couldn’t help it. You’re an angel absolutely perfect. When you broke up with him I was more devastated than him because I knew I wouldn’t get to see you again but then we bumped into each other a-and them feelings was still ther - oh shit Y/N shit I didn’t mean to make you cry im sor-“ he didn’t get to finish that word because you kissed him. 

You kissed him.

Holy shit. 

What do you do?

Do you stop?

Do you continue?

Oh. 

He’s kissing you back.

Took you long enough Bucky, jeez.

After what felt like an eternity you both pulled apart breathless with huge dopey smiles on your faces. 

“Are you sure Bucky? Are you sure that this is how you really feel?” Shut up! Why are you asking?

“Baby I’m in love with you. My heart aches when I’m not with you. You’re the first thing on my mind when I wake up and the last thing when I close my eyes and even then, you just follow me into my dreams” There isn’t any hesitation or hint that this could all be a wind up.

“I’m in love with you too. I know it’s terrible since who your best friend is but I can’t hel-“ this time he cuts you off with his perfect plumb lips on yours. 

Bucky picks you up like you weigh nothing and carries you to bed. He kisses every stretch mark, scar, beauty mark on your entire body as he makes love to you, he tells you how much he loves you. Laying in his arms sweaty and breathless you can’t help it when a few rogue tears slip onto his chest.

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