#makkari fic

[apparentlytheproblem]

if was your boyfriend, never let you go keep you on my arm girl, you'd never be alone

druig recomendations

perfectly busy - @tokkiotears

lemme just say, HUSBAND DRUID OML. and I'm just a sucker for a confident and king Druid behavior. absolutley adoring this to no ends, smn send help, I forgot how to function. the not really complete without you got me. oh god. just o h g o d. i just feel like i should comment on the narrative, it was so well done and just hit the spot i didn't even know I had.

warnings-

not proofread, annoying men, druig in a button-up with the sleeves rolled up

"this isn't over" - @peterparkersnose

bro this slapped in so many different levels, like excuse me. And druig who shares books and annotates? and smug druig? godamn. the sexual tension- smn keep him away from me before i fall in love.

warnings-

angst, privacy invasion, accidental nudity, sexual tension, falling in love with something you could never have-?

sunshine - @itsapeterthing

firstly, i fell in love with the writing, its so stunning. it has such a fun and flowery vibe surrounding it which makes me just gush oml. it was just so sweet. AND how he gets flustered- literally hit all my marks and exceeded them. i hope you never stop writing these, they make my soul lighter.

warnings: eternals insulting druig as always, fluff

how could they not know? - @saintlike78

to start of, i love a vocal man who can tell you that he missed you. the scene itself was so soft. just love sick druig running back to your arms and you're wearing his shirt mwahh. i find it hilarious how no else has even noticed this happening before, my oblivious fools. its so adorablee.

warnings-

nothing but fluff really, dialog heavy.

hold - @redheadspark

bro, my love, angel, the gif itself got me a blushing mess, you have no idea what the fic did to me sheesh. i love a man who was so acceptable about her fear and so re-assuring, that's so perfectly written. i also love how the author has written these thoughts in her head as well as the internal debate. it just left me in awe i swear.

warnings-

Just a hint of angst but mostly fluff

warmth - @stranger-nightmare

these are one of my favorite's that I've encountered. the end was just lovley. Just the plot of this drabble has me on my knees. it was wonderfully thought and wonderfully written. the author has left no crumbs.

warnings-

one case of swearing, a lil bit of fluff, a whole lotta angst, nakedness but it’s not in a sexual way

boyfriend headcannons - @luventi

just a bunch of head cannons which i thought were amazing. overall its just so cute and has me screaming, crying and throwing up. honestly very underated.

warnings-

druig x gn eternal!reader, au where everyone is alive and happy and together, there will be dashes of suggestive content admits all the fluff so be warned!

shy lover - @writing-wh0re

[ it didn't have a title so I gave it this, I hope the author doesn't mind]

felt that this was just a must included, i don't wanna really have to summarize this cause there wasn't a single line that did not fail to have me hypnotized. just lovley work

warnings-

Smut18+, Unprotected Vaginal Sex, Male Performing Oral, Praise Kink (both), Begging Kink (?), Slight Cocky Druig, Cum kink (?)

[goldeneyedgirl]

Sonya! (Imagine, for a moment, that Tumblr Staff actually fixed the bug that means I have to screenshot and tag you @sonyawix for replies.) I missed you!

Jasper's just there realising that a couple of decades of training and practice with the Cullens was no match for a tiny teenage girl who looks at him like he's the second coming. She did more for his self-esteem in one night than anyone has done for him since he was human.

Jasper's softer in STL and his trauma has already been sorted, organised, and filed in his mental storage unit so he just has to simp over worry about Mary-Alice. Mary-Alice has the trauma conga-line but it gets pretty soft for both of them starting next chapter.

But it's why Jasper chapters are usually easier to write.

And listen, we all switch hyperfixations. I read a whole bunch of MCU fics that had Correct Vibes but Incorrect Takes, and beautililies had to stop me from writing MCU fic before I worked on Jalice fics. Also the idea I am carrying 70% of your Jalice experience is fucking wild. What do you want? I feel like I need to give you something because 2024 was not my most active year ever.

My little Mabel has recovered from the infections she had well, but decided to keep things interesting and acquired an ear infection which has since been upgraded to a double ear infection because what's more fun than a lot of credit card debt? Even more credit card debt! She is why I can only stare longing at Coach bags and not own fun stuff like that.

And honestly, I join you in solidarity that my sister and father are also Shitty Fucking People. Sometimes, people are rancid, and we just need to salute their bullshit and carry on our merry way.

It is law that if you bring up Anathema, I post something. I picked this scene WIP because Alice being a dramatic teenage girl is somehow so funny in my head? I can't wait to get to a scene where she's dramatic in front of Jasper and he's just "...you're adorable, you know that right?" And she's like, "absolutely not."

But for now, Alice makes a small scene.

“This is to never get back to the Clearwaters,” I could hear Freddie saying to Charlie Swan in a low voice. “Any of them. I trust you, Charlie.”

Charlie sighed. “Fred, I’ve known you a long time, and I don’t like this at all. What is so important you have to meet with them alone, without Sue and Billy knowing?"

Silence, and I was tempted to creep up the hallway to be able to hear better.

“… This is about Alice and her well-being. If… I have reason to believe that if Sue, Harry, and Billy knew more about Alice’s … health and genetic make-up, they would be deeply unhappy."

That was most likely an understatement. I had a feeling that if Sue found out that I was biologically half-vampire, I would be persona-non-grata in the Clearwater household. There was a fifty-percent chance that Harry would hunt me for sport, honestly. His aim with a shotgun was second-to-none.

//

Dr Cullen had brought his wife, and there was something almost funny seeing them in our home - they were both dressed in very stiff, fancy clothing, standing in the entrance looking awkward. I was in the kitchen finishing the washing up in pyjama bottoms and a t-shirt; both Freddie and Charlie were still wearing work clothing.

The apartment was still mostly in the late 60s style from when it was built. Lots of brown and yellow. Freddie always intended to renovate, but we never seemed to get around to it - moving all the books would take us days, and we’d have to stay downstairs. It was cozy up here, and if we made any changes, it would be to clean out the third floor.

“Hello Alice.�� Mrs Cullen smiled so warmly at me, but I felt oddly shy, offering a little wave as I put plates back into the cupboard.

“Turn on the coffee maker, love, before you go,” Freddie said, and I got the message that this wasn’t going to be a meeting I was included in. I wasn’t upset about that; somehow Dr and Mrs Cullen were far and away more intimidating than Jasper was. Somehow the golden eyes and the pale skin that looked so right on him made me nervous around them.

Thankfully, Dulcie was having dinner with her brother’s family tonight. It meant we could have this meeting at home and she’d probably bring home left-over dessert. Hopefully that really good blueberry donut thing that Mrs Stanley usually made for Dulcie’s birthday.

It also meant that whilst I had been told I wouldn’t be joining in on the meeting today, there was no one in the house that would check to make sure I was wearing headphones and watching movies on my laptop instead of eavesdropping for all I was worth. And in my defence, I had to know what Freddie was telling everyone so I didn’t mess up the story later on. It was just planning ahead.

//

“He can read minds?” I shrieked, giving myself away instantly.

Charlie Swan swore, sloshing his coffee in surprise, as the rest of them spun around to look at me in the hallway.

“Alice,” Freddie groaned but I didn’t care that I would be doing extra cleaning this week or whatever as punishment.

A girl’s mind is private. There are things happening up there that die with me, okay?

Things like me contemplating the logistics of having sex on a gurney now that I’d met Jasper and realised he was a foot and a half taller than me, and probably 100lb heavier.

Or the fact that whilst my visions hadn’t been instructional, so to speak, they had given me a certain amount of reference material to reflect on. I might never have been a Girl Scout, but I do like to be prepared.

And the idea that one of the Cullens could mind-read and had probably told the entire family that a good fifty-percent of my brain power was solely dedicated to what I had seen of Jasper’s body in my vision at any time was… not ideal. Not at all how I planned to integrate myself into their lives. I was aiming for lovable future daughter-in-law, not mouth-breathing creeper.

“Edward considers the contents of everyone’s mind private, unless harm would result in keeping it secret,” Mrs Cullen quickly reassured me. Please. I had seen Leah and Seth together; I knew what siblings were like. There was no way in hell that Jasper hadn't been informed that I had absolutely noticed he was ripped when he helped me up.

“I’m taking a lot of emotional damage learning this,” I said slightly hysterically. “Can he hear everything?”

“Only when he’s present.” Was Dr Cullen laughing at me? He looked amused.

“Alice,” Freddie sounded tired. “There are brownies in the downstairs freezer if you want some dessert.”

Huh. It was bad if Freddie was bribing me with the catering supplies.

“That would help,” I said, trying to walk through the kitchen to get a knife with some kind of dignity. “You understand why I would be uncomfortable with a teenage boy reading my mind, right?”

“I think we’re all on the same page about that,” Charlie said. He didn’t look amused.

"Alice, I really don't think there's anything in your head that Edward Cullen would worry about," Freddie said, obviously trying to sound comforting and mostly made me want to slam my head against a wall.

"I've had unmonitored access to the internet since I was eleven and no boyfriend! Or girlfriend! There's plenty up there I don't want Jasper's brother knowing!" I snatched up the cake knife and looked over to see Freddie looking like he needed a drink, Charlie Swan looking the most uncomfortable I had ever seen him - and that included the ass-injury incident - and Mrs Cullen trying very unsuccessfully not to laugh at me.

"And now I've made it worse. I'm calling Cynthia!"

It's not the fact that my father was a vampire that makes me a freak. I manage to do that all by myself.

[simplymakkari]

[sig-nifier]

Signifier's Fic Masterlist

A list of all the fandoms I've written for - incase u stumbled here and might be interested - with the fics and their summaries listed below.

challengers

masters of the air

our flag means death

buzzfeed unsolved/watcher

star wars: the acolyte

marvel's eternals

marvel's deadpool

arcane

challengers

the art of consumption - patrick x art (NSFW)

The one where Art reveals he's never had a blowjob before, and Patrick jumps at the chance to change that.

There’s silence. A period of mourning for what the night could have been. And then, Patrick says simply, “I’d do it.” Art frowns, not following, and turns his head to look at him. Patrick looks back, the picture of innocence, and slowly shifts his gaze from Art’s face to his hips and back again. Oh. Art chokes on air, splutters out a disbelieving laugh. “You’d suck my dick?” He asks, incredulous. Patrick shrugs. “Already had your tongue down my throat, how different could your dick be?”

masters of the air

make you feel alive - bucky x buck

The one where Bucky is temporarily MIA, and Gale loses his mind.

Through the smoke, and the noise, and the grief, there’s Bucky. There’s blood all down the right side of his face, but his eyes are bright, and when he sees Gale his smile is even brighter. There are so many things he wants to say, so many things he wants to do, but there’s a crowd, and Gale doesn’t think he can find the right words anyway. Not here, not now. What he settles on is eloquent, and he hopes it portrays all of the feeling he puts behind it: “What took you so long?” Bucky’s grin widens. He shrugs his shoulders up to his ears and gestures back towards the poor excuse of a plane. “We took a detour,” he says simply.

summer rain - bucky x buck

The one where Bucky doesn’t cope very well with being a prisoner of war, and Gale is there to keep him grounded.

“Don’t you ever, ever, do something that stupid again.” John thinks if he concentrates he can feel the sharp of Gale’s nails through his jacket. “Our time’s gonna come.” When still, Bucky says nothing, Gale loosens his grip and places his hands softly on either side of John’s head. He places a delicate kiss on his cheek, his forehead, the bridge of his nose. “You gotta stay with me,” he says, pleading. I can feel this, Bucky thinks. Let this be the only thing I feel.

obsessions, and other things - bucky x buck

The one where the war ends, and the aftermath comes with both its good, and its bad.

“They’d have to catch us first,” Gale counters. “They’d catch you.” “Ain’t no bikes around for you to cheat with, Bucky.” Bucky turns to look at him then, a wide grin slowly slinks its way onto his face. He comes close, leans down, and places a long kiss on Gale’s mouth. When he pulls back he says, “I don’t need a bike,” and then he takes off running. It takes a moment for Buck’s brain to catch up, still in the moment ten seconds ago, and then he’s tearing out of the alleyway after him.

wild things - bucky x buck western au (NSFW)

The one where stablehand Gale finds outlaw John “Bucky” Egan bleeding out in his stables.

He takes the final step, lifts the lantern to flood the empty station with light, and sees a man laying on his stable floor. He’s brunette, sweating, breathing unsteadily. There’s blood wiped messily on his forehead, down his neck. Half laying, half sitting up against the stack of haybales Buck keeps at the bottom of this station, he’s got one bloody hand pressed to his right thigh, which is caked with crimson. His other hand rests wearily on the Colt that’s tucked into the waistband of his pants. Gale’s heart jumps, he wishes suddenly that he really did have a rifle, but when the man sees that Buck’s unarmed he raises the hand slowly, in a shaky surrender. - “You got a name?” Buck asks, in an attempt to distract. The stranger swallows and takes a deep breath. “Bucky.” Buck almost pauses in his work. He scoffs and shakes his head. “I’ll be damned.” “Why’s that?” “People call me Buck.” Bucky huffs out a pained laugh, which quickly devolves into a groan. When he’s finished, he says, “Goddamn fate.”

washed clean - bucky x buck

The one where Gale obsesses over cleanliness in the Stalag camp and Bucky does his best to understand.

John watched him work for a while, watched the way the dirt fell off his boot, satisfying-like, onto the steps below. Slender fingers worked the brush back and forth, a constant rhythm. Bucky would have quite liked to shut his eyes and listened to the sound, felt the way Gale’s body shifted with each stroke. He could pretend they were somewhere else – the porch of their own house, a summer day, their dog running around the front yard. He’d tip his head onto Gale’s shoulder, and the blonde would put his arm around him, and nothing would ever haunt them again. Not the war, not the memories, not themselves.

a magic touch - bucky x buck fantasy au

The one where Witch Hunter Gale Cleven is tasked with pursuing John Egan, a dangerous Sorcerer.

The cobblestone floor was melded around his left ankle, pinning him to the ground. He reaches back, tries to peel the stone away with his fingernails, but it’s like trying to pry up the Earth itself; a futile waste of time. Footsteps approach. Gale slowly, slowly, looks up. Above him, Egan is panting. He’s sweating, curly hair starting to stick to his forehead, and there’s an infuriating, amused smile on his pretty face. Gale looks up into that enchantress grin and hates him immensely. “Stuck, are we?” The witch quips lightly, and Gale grinds his teeth. He braces his hands against his thigh, begins to push himself up to standing, but as he gets half-way an unseen power forces him back to his knees. “Let me go,” Gale says through clenched teeth, all the calm of a sandstorm. Egan preens. “Say please.” I am going to tear you apart, Gale thinks. He says: “coward.” It does nothing to wipe the smile from Egan’s face. He crouches down, balances on the balls of his feet in front of him, and tips his head, regarding. “I find you witch hunters much more agreeable on your knees.”

seven miles out of freedom town - bucky x buck western au (NSFW)

The one where Deputy John Egan doesn’t come home for a few days, and Gale sets out to find him.

It had been four years since Gale Cleven had found one “Bucky” Egan almost bleeding to death in his stables, and life had been far better for it. The town of Lemmon welcomed their new Deputy sincerely, a pleasant change to the lawman who had come before him, and Bucky had responded to their acceptance with pleasing smiles and endearing quips. Even brothers, Crosby and Bubbles, had started to fear him less, and like him more. John had slipped into Gale’s world and knocked it out of orbit, into a kinder, softer galaxy. - Rosie’s holding a letter in his hand. “Bucky home yet?” He asks carefully. “I ain’t seen him.” All Gale can do is shake his head, dread building in his lungs. In his peripheral, Curt stands up. “He okay?” Curt asks. “Course he is,” Gale snaps, and then regrets it. He says, softer, “when you known him not to be okay?”

our flag means death

a study from a lighthouse - ed x stede

The one where Stede is a lighthouse and Ed is not immune to its beacon.

They could make plans to leave the life together, Ed would so enjoy the pleasure of running away, and when they see him standing at the dock they would not be frightened but loved and welcomed and expected. In a reversing of roles it is they who would be drawn to him.

your blinding light - ed x stede

The one where Ed meets the man who owns the lighthouse, and they both find everything they've ever wanted.

“Come for a trip?” Stede’s heart is a jackrabbit in his chest and he so badly wants to say yes, god, please yes, because is this not everything he has ever wanted? A kind pirate, who likes his handkerchief and handles his books so gently, with a lovely ship and access to the entire ocean. Someone to laugh with, and speak with who will listen and appreciate. He wants so deeply he fears he may die from the ache. But he is a lighthouse. Lighthouses do not sail the seas, they command them, and Stede’s not sure if he’s ready to make that change just yet. Not while there is work to be done. Not when he knows he will never want to go back.

the day that i met you, i started dreaming - ed x stede

The one where Ed fulfils his promise.

He stumbles down the lighthouse steps, feet and soul equally as eager, and when Stede wrenches the door open he sees Ed, soaking wet with a lamp in one hand, and the other outstretched towards him.

buzzfeed unsolved/watcher

hitchhikers - shane x ryan

The one where Shane and Ryan both stumble across a strange man with strange secrets.

Hitchhiking is dangerous, from both ends of the deal. There's a chance the person who picks you up is a killer. There's a chance you get picked up by a killer. Either way, it doesn't look good. What happens if one killer picks up another? - "Do you have a name?" He asked. “It's C.C.", the man said. And then, like an afterthought, "Tinsley. What's yours?” “Goldsworth." The lie came as easy as breathing. "Ricky Goldsworth.”

the axeman of new orleans - shane x ryan (NSFW)

The one where a certain axe weilding murderer takes a special interest in Ryan Begara.

It was funny, to him, the things he could stand, and the things he couldn’t. He could slit someones throat ear to ear, but he couldn’t touch old food that had been left on a plate overnight. He was fine with the splatter of blood on his face when he’d struck an artery, but he had to hold his breath when taking the trash out. He could take an axe to someones head, deform their skull, and leave them dying, but he couldn’t stand coffee. * Ryan’s out at a bar one night, "jazzing it up", to avoid the axemans wrath. The cute guy sat next to him might know a little more about the axeman than he lets on.

star wars: the acolyte

there's something about power - osha x qimir (NSFW)

The one where Qimir returns to the cave, injured, and Osha plays caretaker.

With the lightest pressure, she hooks her finger underneath his chin, and tips his head up. He goes incredibly easily, and that does nothing to help the power that threatens to course through her veins. Qimir’s lips part, she can feel his soft breath on her wrist, and there’s a look in his eyes that she doesn’t know the shape of yet. Osha leans slightly closer, wants to ensure the cut won’t begin bleeding again, and from there her gaze travels over the rest of his face, past the curve of his cheekbones, along his skin until her look lands on the soft pink of his mouth. Morals be damned. It would be so easy.

darkness ascending - osha x qimir hades and persephone au (NSFW)

The one where Osha is Persephone and Qimir is the God of the Underworld.

There is a man in her garden. Dressed in a long, black cloak; his hair is equally as dark. Slicked back away from his face, a few strands have betrayed him, and fallen into his midnight eyes. Tanned skin, dark stubble atop his upper lip. He’d made no sound as he approached, as if he too had grown from the Earth. He is, Osha thinks, offensively pretty.

marvel's eternals

i like the way your words taste - druig x makkari

The one where Druig makes a habit of kissing the back of Makkari's hand over the years.

My beautiful, beautiful Makkari. Did you miss me? The tip of her chin had been answer enough.

marvel's deadpool

put your money where your mouth is - logan x wade (NSFW)

The one where Logan and Wade go for a little drive in a Honda Odyessy, and then maybe get it on in the driver's seat.

The merc gasps suddenly, scrambling in his seat to sit on his knees. He reaches out with a single finger to poke and pinch at Logan’s neck. “Are you blushing?” “It’s irritation,” Logan bites back, trying to twitch his neck out of Deadpool’s grasp. “There’s nothing wrong with a bit of gentle canoodling, peanut. People like when the meanie goes soft.” Wade turns, and appears to address someone Logan can’t see. “I hear it’s very popular in fanfiction.” “Who are you talking to?” Logan asks, and Deadpool whips his head back round. Gloved fingers still on Logan’s neck, Wade drags them slowly down his shoulder, down past his arm and over his hip. “You,” he says seductively, “later, in your dreams.”

i want you i need you oh god - logan x wade (NSFW)

The one where Logan doesn't cope very well with living in Wade's world, and friendly neighbourhood Deadpool is there to help.

Logan can’t fucking escape the stupid little group Wade keeps calling X-Force – except they’re not stupid at all. They’re nice. They’re nice to him and it hurts so damn bad that each day he steps closer to leaning his forehead on his fist and hole punching his brain. They won’t leave him the fuck alone. - “You’re crazy,” he laughs, and Wade just blinks at him. “Wow. Cutting words. Not sure I’ll make it.” “Fucking…lunatic.” Wilson’s gaze flicks to a spot behind Logan’s head. “This has to be the worst degrading porn you’ve ever seen.” Then he’s placing his hands on Logan’s chest and guiding him to lay down. “Nighty night, gramps, we’ll find your viagra in the morning.”

the bathroom stall blues - logan x wade (NSFW)

The one where Logan leans his forehead against Wade's gun, and Wade puts his plan to save the world on hold.

Okay. So, new plan. Find a nice romantic bathroom stall and get his head popped off by Hugh Jackman’s biceps, then save the universe. He had a pocket-sized time machine stuffed in the side of his boot. He could afford to do a little sight-seeing. Wade clicks the safety back on his pistol before holstering the gun. He says sweetly, “just kidding. Maybe I could come with you? Preferably more than once, in all kinds of positions.”

song for the sleepless - logan x wade

The one where Logan and Wade both suffer from nightmares and do their best to help the other through it.

“What was it this time?” He asks, and Wade groans softly, tipping his head back. “Can’t we just have loud sex on the kitchen counter?” He tries. “And wake Blind Al?” Logan mocks. “Do you have a death wish?” “Oh I could finish twice before she even gets her nightie on. Three times when I see her in it.”

heist heist baby - logan x wade

The one where Logan and Wade go undercover as a married couple, and do whatever it takes to avoid detection.

How they were going to find a single USB stick half the size of Logan’s nutsack he had no fucking idea, but first they had to avoid detection, and that might prove more difficult because Wade was not made for high society. He cuts into conversations, eats so many Hors d’Oeuvres Logan thinks he might be sick, actually laughs when he sees a little bowl of caviar with a little spoon to serve with. He slurps the tiny balls off the spoon before putting the spoon back, and Logan’s going to pop a fucking aneurysm. - “I saw this in a movie once,” Wade whispers, before grabbing the front of Logan’s suit and slamming their mouths together.

tomorrow and tomorrow and tomorrow - wade x logan (NSFW)

The one where Wade gets stuck in a time loop, and he's determined to get Logan out of it alive.

“How many times have we had this conversation?” Logan asks, rubbing a hand over his eyes. Too fucking many, Wade thinks. The table is cool against his skin, and the fork embedded in his hand throbs with a pulsing heat. He thinks he might just stay here for a while, see how the universe kills him like this. Knowing his luck, someone would walk right up and take Logan’s head off, and then he’d have to watch him die, again. Wade loves movies that fuck with time – Days of Future Past is genuinely his favourite X-Men film – but God did it fucking suck to live through one.

that one bruno mars song - logan x wade

The one where Wade asks five times for Logan to marry him, and the one time Logan says yes.

Wade ducks his head into the crook of Logan’s neck, breaths long and deep. It’s warm in the space here, and his nightmare riddled, sleep-plagued mind thinks he’d quite like to move in. “Marry me?” He murmurs, lips pressed to the skin. Logan sighs. “Ask me properly.”

team-ups, and other inconveniences - logan x wade

The one where Logan goes on missions for the X-Men, and some mutant in a red suit keeps showing up and stealing his kills.

“Unlock the chains,” Logan says slowly, barely containing his annoyance. “What’s the magic word?” The merc singsongs. “Blow me.” “That’s not even close.” “Deadpool–“ “Say my name.” Logan blinks. “What?” Deadpool shrugs, throws the key into the air, catches it. He repeats, “say my name.”

arcane

oil slick and bathwater - vi x caitlyn

The one where Caitlyn attempts to wash the darkness from Vi's hair, and from their past.

“You’re half made of oil.” “It adds character.” “It adds dirt.” “I didn’t realise you were a germaphobe.” “We're sharing a bath.” Vi’s response to that is to slide down into the water until she’s fully submerged. Caitlyn laughs. She laughs. After a moment, Vi comes up for air. The shampoo has left her hair, and whilst the black hasn’t completely washed out, scarlet peaks through the void like sunrise, and Vi seems all the brighter for it. She slicks her hair back out of her eyes, and Caitlyn hates how much the make-up smudged around the powder blue really does add character. - Vi cranes her neck to look at her once more. It’s just at the same moment that Caitlyn is pulling the cloth down her neck and over her collarbone. She watches Vi’s gaze catch on the movement, watches her lips slip open. Caitlyn’s hand stills. And then she takes a chance.

[the-sparkling--diamond]

masterlist

star wars

everything to win poe dameron x black female oc multichapter

mcu

hide and seek jack russell x reader fluff

the mortality of immortality druig x makkari angst

spiderverse

directions miguel o'hara x jessica drew fluff in which miguel o'hara is more than happy to follow his wife's directions

[sempiternalmuze]

smoking cigarettes on the roof

Druig x Makkari x Reader

description: a short blurb of reader and Druig having a sweet moment on the rooftops. honestly I wrote this in my journal and decided I wanted to have it here...enjoy :)

word count: 495

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: . . :☆ﾟ. ─── ➶ ─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: . . :☆ﾟ. ───

Makkari would tell you to put it out, to stomp it into the ground below your feet.

"We don't know how these will affect us! You're just polluting your body, or maybe something worse and you don't even know it!" She'd angrily sign.

Smiling back, you would sign to her, "You worry too much darling. You've been saying that for nearly three thousand years now."

But not Druig. He didn't like the use of impure substances either but he understood the need for something imperfect in your life. Something that wasn't written in the stars for you to fulfill. He only wished you did it less, and farther away from the house.

"Darling..." You sighed, keeping your eyes shut as you accepted the sun's rays against your skin. The roof shook a bit as he made his way to the roof, the careful dance of his steps sounding closer until he stood over you.

The cigarette was removed from between your lips and taken between his own. You looked towards him in time to see the grimace run across his face as he inhaled, before flicking it over to the ground below.

"That was my last one." You sighed, annoyed but not upset.

"Good." He smiled at you. "Why are you up here alone, love?"

"It's quiet. I love our dear Makkari but I didn't want to argue about the cigarettes again, and I know the smoke bothers her." I bit my lip.

He offered a hum in response. You returned to your sunbathing, redirecting a small breeze to hit you. There was a slight shuffle from him, and you turned to face where he'd be.

This time you were met with Druigs grey eyes as they stared down at you with an intensity you'd come to love these past centuries. It was as if he was reading past the surface, trying to see the deeper picture.

"You're interrupting my alone time, which I never get when you two are around."

"Mm..." He smiled. "How come you don't want any time with me?"

You laughed at the pout he gave. "So dramatic.." You lifted yourself to your elbows refusing to break his cryptic eye contact. He pushed a stray strand of hair behind your ear, tracing your cheek with his lingering hand. He was so soft and gentle with you and Makkari. So much so that it almost drove you insane sometimes.

You gave no hesitation as you placed a hand on his neck, pulling him into a kiss. It was slow, soft, delicate. You pulled away, looking between his eyes and his lips, desperate for more.

"Dinner's ready." You groaned, rolling off the roof, landing on the softened ground below. Druig followed, slipping his soft hand into yours.

Makkari was waiting at the door, arms crossed.

"What am I? Chopped liver?" She signed.

"Of course not baby! You're the cherry on top." You wrapped your arms around her, peppering kisses all over her face.

･ ｡ﾟ☆: . . :☆ﾟ ･ ｡ﾟ☆: . . :☆ﾟ ･ ｡ﾟ☆: . . :☆ﾟ ･ ｡ﾟ☆: . . :☆ﾟ

[upon-a-starry-night]

Never Lost Pt1

~Ongoing~

Drukkari x female reader

College Au

Summary: You meet your new roommate Makkari and her friends at college. Something begins developing between you, Druig, and Makkari, but will insecurities and sorority girls get in the way of your blooming romance?

(disclaimer! This series is unedited and will have errors- I apologize)

You smiled as you felt the fresh warm air hit your face, stepping out of the car you admired to view in front of you.The dorm buildings were huge and lavish, you could only imagine what the inside looked like. 

You were snapped out of your thoughts by your mom nudging your shoulder

“Come on Y/n, we don’t have all day and I have a flight to catch” She grabbed some of your bags from the backseat and began walking towards the dorm doors, you playfully rolled your eyes- it was 8 AM you both had plenty of time to get your stuff unpacked.

Your mother had gratefully made the drive up to California with you in your car, but she was catching a flight back home this evening in order to get back in time for work.

You grabbed one of the duffel bags and slung it around your shoulder before grabbing a box and following after your mom, you found her talking with the receptionist at the front desk of the building, they both looked at you as you approached

“Hi! You must be Y/n?” the woman questioned and you groaned

“Mom, what have you told her?” your mom just shook her head with a small smile

“I’m just trying to find out where your room is y/n” She stated, you squinted your eyes at her in suspicion

“Right, I just need you to sign a few papers and then i can give you your keycard- it’s used to get in your dorm, foodhall, and lounge rooms” 

“Ok cool” You set down your stuff and grabbed the pen handed to you, briefly reading over everything before signing

“So she has a roommate right?” Your mom inquired

“Yes, she arrived yesterday so all of her stuff will be in the room already, i’m not sure if she’s there currently but i guess you’ll find out” The receptionist said

“She?” Your mother turned to you with an inquisitive smirk on her face and you had to physically restrain yourself from rolling your eyes again. 

It was no secret that you were bisexual, and you were lucky to have a mother that was accepting but it also meant that she was buying you anything and everything that had a rainbow and assumed you were going to fall in love with every girl you met. You were lucky you did most of the shopping for your dorm by yourself or you’re almost entirely sure your bedspread and school supplies would all be rainbow.

You waved a polite goodbye to the front desk lady as you picked up your bags and new keycard and began walking to your dorm, you had to take the elevator because your room was on the second floor but you didn’t mind as you didn’t have anything too heavy to unpack anyway.

You scanned the keycard until the lock flashed green and entered the room, you looked over to the other side that was practically already fully decorated and noticed a few track trophies and posters of older bands of music, they had good taste you decided. 

You set your stuff down on your side, throwing the duffle bag onto the bed before following it and laying down. 

Huh, the bed wasn’t as bad as you thought it’d be. 

Your mother huffed “no no no Y/n there is no time for resting, we’ve got to unpack the rest of the car come on” She left no room for arguments as she exited the room, she was always one to worry about time crunches.

You ran after your mom as she nearly speed walked out of the building, stopping in the lobby to catch your breath when you noticed by far the prettiest girl you’d ever seen walk into the building, she was dressed in a crop top and leggings showing off her beautiful caramel skin and good physique as she wiped sweat off her neck with a towel, obviously coming back from some sort of run.

She looked over at you, catching you staring and giving you the most beautiful smile you’d ever seen before waving and walking away. Oh yeah, you liked this college already. 

You and your mom grabbed the rest of your stuff and you locked your car before making your way back, this time when you opened your door there was someone inside and you thanked the heavens for whoever assigned the roommates. The same girl you’d run into downstairs was sitting on her bed and scrolling on her phone, looking up when you and your mother entered

“Oh look Y/n! Hi, I’m y/n’s mother it’s nice to meet you” You mother set down the boxes she was holding and walked over to the pretty girl who sat up to shake your moms hand 

“What’s your name darling?” your mother questioned, you could see the girl paying avid attention to your mom’s mouth, you were about to question it before your eyes were drawn down to her hands as she signed her name M-a-k-k-a-r-i. Ah, now you understood, she was reading her lips.

You smiled to yourself as you put down your boxes and walked over, introducing yourself in return, the girl looked mildly surprised but more pleased than anything.

“You speak sign language?” She signed

You nodded “My nephew is deaf so i learned it so I could communicate with him-, you explained

“That’s very sweet of you” 

“Thank you”

“Well i’m glad to see you two getting along already” you mother interjected “but we need to get you set up Hon” she turned to you and you sighed

“Alright”

Makkari offered to help and despite you telling her you didn’t want to inconvenience her, she still helped you set up a few things, the three of you working together got the unpacking done a lot faster than you’d excepted and by the time noon came around you were practically finished 

“Shit that was fast” you expressed, Makkari smiling and your mother swatting you on the shoulder

You sat down on your bed as your mother announced she was going to the bathroom, Makkari sat across from you on her bed

“So,” you began signing “You do track?” you nodded your head in the direction of her trophies

She beamed “Yes! I love running, it’s always been very therapeutic for me”

You snorted “couldn’t be me, exercise is not my thing, the most I can do is like 2 push-ups and a hike to the nearest ice cream shop”

She shook her head, pretending to scold you “exercise is very important, helps to keep you healthy”

“Amongst other things” you muttered to yourself, trying hard not to look at the abs showing slightly under the crop top she was wearing, when you looked back up she was smirking. Shit, had she read your lips?

Your mother burst back in right at that moment, complaining that you hadn’t moved since she left and forcing you to get off your bed to continue setting everything up, there were still some things you needed, like food for the next week at least and a few textbooks so after finishing your room you waved goodbye to Makkari and went off with your mom.

You had a feeling this school year was going to be interesting, to say the least

Yay Chapter 1! As always, Please leave a comment to tell me what you thought!- Starry

Pt2.

[zaenight]

Silent promises chapter 3

Rosaleigh smiled as she sat by bobo's grave leaving some flowers for him, before staring at the sky.

She should stop by the library to see if April needs anything, letting out a smile she patted bobo's little memorial stone, before running off halfway into town.

Rosaleigh spotted a very familiar man get off his motorcycle as she ran past the barbershop, as he looked at her with a small smile she waved.

"What the fuck was that smile for, you got yourself a girl or what." Angel said spotting the girl as she ran past.

"Just being friendly bro, you should try it sometime, maybe then girls would like you more." Ez stated as they walked into the barbershop.

"Fuck you Ezekiel." Angel said muttering how girls did like him, and they liked assholes better than goody goodies.

"Whatever you say bro." Ez said rolling his eyes.

------

Rosaleigh huffed, turns out April was out sick, and Serenity had taken Omari on a weekend trip to charming to visit an uncle of hers that had re-connected with her.

And so, Rosaleigh made her way into town, heading towards the local food truck owned by Big Benny who had dropped off tacos and drinks earlier in the morning.

She observed the numerous 'Los Olvidados' flyers scattered across the walls and the ground, shaking her head.

 A man and woman bumped into her as she was knelt down picking up a Flyer, they apologized before rushing off.

Rosaleigh shook off the weird encounter as she went to Benny thanking him for earlier, rushing off to visit Felipe.

------

After a stare down between her and Felipe, he finally let her help out, this girl was stubborn.

Ez entered the shop, not noticing Rosaleigh who was wiping down counters.

"I got that, Pop." Ez said helping Felipe out with the box.

"Thanks." Felipe said as Ez caught sight of Rosaleigh.

"Tu novia es muy terca" Felipe stated heading to the back to give them some alone time.

[Your girlfriend is very stubborn]

Rosaleigh stared at Ez Raising a brow.

Ez cleared his throat, before pulling out a notebook and pen.

"How have you been?" Ez spoke as he wrote, Rosaleigh could read his lips just fine, but she loved how considerate he was.

GOOD

Rosaleigh wrote as she signed, giving him a soft smile.

"Hey maybe later on you could stop by, teach me sign language." Ez said noticing her reading his lips.

Rosaleigh nodded happily, he wanted to learn, it was surprising, and very exciting to her.

Ez chuckled as her expression was filled with joy, he doesn't know why she made him feel this way, it was different than what he felt for Emily.

"Look pops might act like he doesn't like people, but I can tell he enjoys your company."  Ez said as he wrote it down.

IS THIS YOUR WAY OF TELLING ME TO HANG OUT WITH YOUR FATHER? 

Ez chuckled as Rosaleigh wrote in her notebook, he shook his head before writing.

Maybe I just want to know if your safe out there, if you hang with pops I could stop by and see you too.

Ez wrote as Rosaleigh let out a soft laugh, and dios mio he fell in love with the sound, even if she couldn't hear it.

------

Later on, Rosaleigh had gone to check up on April to see how she was feeling, the older woman had a slight fever but other than that she was doing ok.

She then went to check how Benny and his son where doing, however as people were frozen or running from the scene she froze.

 Infront of the food truck, two burned bodies laid with those los olvidados flyers in their mouths. 

Big Benny and Little Benny were no more, as they lay forever still on the concrete ground.

As Rosaleigh looked up, she caught sight of Ez who was already staring right back at her, he just wanted to comfort her as he saw the look in her eyes.

Angel, Coco, and Adelita, all saw him staring at the girl.

Angel glanced at his brother with a look in his eyes, this was the same woman who ran past them earlier, one thing Angel noticed was the lack of shoes on her feet, strange woman.

"I don't think this is the kind of smoke you were talking about." Angel said to Adelita looking at the burned bodies.

The chilling music filled the air as Rosaleigh headed towards Carnicería Reyes, she knew Ez was following right behind her.

------

"Lo siento, no one should ever witness something like that." Ez said writing on a piece of paper before entering the shop.

When they were fully in the shop Ez turned around, pulling Rosaleigh into a hug, Rosaleigh was shocked at first before wrapping her arms around him.

She the grabbed his hands before messing with his fingers, he then realized she was showing him how to sign something.

He watched as she then did it with her own fingers and motioned for him to do the same.

As he did the same motion she had done, she then wrote on a piece of paper.

NOW YOU KNOW HOW TO SIGN 'IT'S OK'

-------

Now Rosaleigh was watching as Ez was fixing something for Felipe, handing him tools.

 "Don't tighten it too much, you'll bend the copper." Felipe said to Ez as Rosaleigh held the flashlight.

"I know." Ez said as a knock was heard.

Rosaleigh however felt the vibrations of a car pull up, as she looks at Ez confused.

Rosaleigh saw Felipe open the door, a beautiful blonde woman coming in, Emily Galindo, Wife of Miguel Galindo.

Now he's someone you didn't want to mess with, and as she looked at Ez she knew there was some history.

She nodded her head towards Emily before following Felipe.

"That's Rosaleigh, she's been coming around and helping pops out." Ez said noticing her stare.

"You care for her?" Emily asked, the woman seemed kind, and she swears she's seen her at the bakery where she gets cupcakes.

"...Yeah Em, I do." Ez said as the two then spoke about what happened to her son, she wanted his help.

And then with her Roast in hand she left, noticing how Ez stared softly at Rosaleigh.

She's glad that he found someone, even if he himself doesn't know it yet.

[allthngs]

i know it’s been more than a year and nobody’s talking about eternals anymore, but i’ve read so many drukkari fics over the course of the last 12 months that i’m just SAD i never got my college AU where they’re both college professors, makkari’s teaching archeology and druig’s teaching psychology / STEM and they just meet and flirt and fall in love OK ????? unfair

[ohmystaxk]

Golden Stars MASTERLIST

Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4 | Part 5 | Part 6 (Coming Soon)

NOW ON AO3 (Chapters to be Updated)

Pairing: (Druig x OC!Zephyr)

Content/Tags: CONTENT WARNINGS AND MORE WILL BE ADDED WITH EACH PART. Friends to Lovers, Thousand of years of yearning, Angst, Sexual Harassment, SA Attempt, Major Character Death, Minor Character Death, Ajak being a Mother figure to Ikaris and Zephyr, Kingo and Zephyr being the absolute besties that they are, Ikaris and Zephyr are twins (more like they are made of the same cosmic energy [possible Adam and Eve parallel]), Ikaris and Zephyr are so similar that they hate each other.

Summary:

In 1491, Zephyr, one of the eleven Eternals; left them all behind. In the present she is found after the strange resurgent of deviants, and is reunites with Ikaris, Sersi and Sprite. A heartbreaking conversation leads her to learn about the tragic death of their once leader, Ajak.

Zephyr, feels much like stranger amongst her old friends, alone and isolated in the mist of their sudden reunion. And yet, she is not alone. Druig, who also left the Eternals 30 years after her, is the one that never forgot about her, the one that constantly wondered about her whereabouts and safety.

"I never believed in ghosts, but I might as well do now." Druig eyed her up and down, impressed by what his eyes were witnessing. "If it isn't Zephyr, Wielder of the Stars. My, how much have I miss seeing your face."

"Druig," she answered back as she looked up into his eyes, not looking away, not wanting, afraid she might not see them again.

"You look as beautiful as the day you left me."

[athenamarie]

✏️ FIRST AND LAST LINES ✏️

RULES: Go to your last 5 published fics and share the first and last line with no context!

A Kind Of Pretty Lethal Detective Duo:

FIRST: “Middle school. Talent show.”

LAST: “It’s a bit of a mystery to Wayne as to why, but he hugs the kid back nevertheless.”

Long Years Have Passed:

FIRST: “She often came to him like this.”

LAST: “Chrissy does not have anymore dreams that night.”

There You Are Sweetheart, Sorry I’m Late

FIRST: “In the land of Ingary, where such things as seven-league boots and cloaks of invisibility really exist, it is quite a misfortune to be born an only child.”

LAST: “‘That’s my girl,’ he says, and hops backwards off the balcony railing with a wiggled goodbye of his fingers.”

What If: Druig Went To Makkari:

FIRST: “Druig can hardly stay still.”

LAST: “He prays they can give Ikaris a long and painful death.”

I Thought I Had Wandered Into a Dream:

FIRST: “Chrissy had to be with her mother for the rest of the day, but they agreed to meet back at the clearing to take her to his Uncle’s.”

LAST: “And more.”

I was tagged by @1lostsoul0fishbowl and I’m tagging @beautifuldrukkari @simplymakkari ❤️

[kangaracha]

hey do that tag game and tag zom mom

Fic authors self rec! When you get this, reply with your favorite five fics that you’ve written, then pass on to at least five other writers. Let’s spread the self-love ♥️

sent: december 16th 2022. once again, i am the queen of finding old posts. and you all said i should tag things so i can find them later, ha.

---

'NEVERMORE' we all knew would come out on top. this is THE brainworm. the piece de resistance. the swansong except i'm not quitting or dying when it's done. hopefully. i haven't told anyone but i'm very aware this could blow out to 200 or 300k if i finish it, and it's. i just love it. unfettered creativity etc. Nevermore is based on the stray kids cinematic universe, the music videos and performances that all connect to tell a story, but even if you don't know stray kids, i think you can read it - it's about a group of boys (a band? a group of musicians?) stumbling into another world that is made of music and controlled by a strict government, and their journey back home to their own time and place, and the things that are left in their wake. it's huge and it's long and it's the first time i've reached 70k and still felt like i have a hand on all the plot lines without leaving plot holes in my wake.

'The Gone And The Gathered' is a zombies fic set in an au where zombietown is treated as an internment camp by Seabrook, also based on ghettos/concentration camps from WW2. Zombies are used to run the power plant and supply electricity and water to Seabrook and have never left the town; werewolves are known wild entities, and some have been captured as they are Useful in maintenance in the power plant. The story follows teenaged Wanda and Zoey through a series of discoveries about their world and the ripple effect this has on Zombietown and the world beyond the walls that they have never seen - and it's about staying quiet and accepting your lot in life, or daring to strike out and create a better future for yourself and your people, even if it might mean sacrificing yourself.

'Turn Your Back On Mother Nature' is a MCU Eternals fic, focused on Druig and Makkari. It contains five canon compliant scenes that, given my own director's cut, I would have added to the movie - not meant to change anything, but just meant to complement the plot and the character's own individual storylines and give more depth and meaning. I feel like I really excel at working within the boundaries given by a certain media and it's one of the main things that keeps me coming back to the challenge of writing fanfiction, and I'm so proud of the job that I did on this - it's well written, my character work really stands out, and I thought the scenes really worked to capture each idea I was trying to express. mwah good job roo.

'To Go Beyond Your Borders' is my pokemon comfort fic. It follows Angie, the champion of Sinnoh but also a disgraced public figure, and a journey of self-discovery as she runs away to Galar to compete in the Gym Challenge there. I started writing this in my depression/anxiety era, and in a lot of roundabout ways a lot of the themes/Angie's struggles are based on challenges I've faced in the last few years, so this fic is. Really cool, and something I keep coming back to as I really like the story I built for it. If more mature pokemon journeys is something you're interested in, this is the fic for you - and the composition of it, with social media interlaced with traditional storytelling, is so fun, I love doing it and coming up with the different bits and where they'll make the most impact. This is just so fun to work on and more people should read it so I make it more of a priority cause seeing this finished one day is going to make me so happy.

'if only we knew (the things we know)' and it's sequel, 'and the chasm grows', two of my long zombies stand-alones, are the fics i always think of first when asked what writing I'm most proud of. The themes are big - death, and knowing that you're going to die soon (cancer related themes, though this isn't about cancer), and facing down the idea of genocide of your entire race. They're very dark, as they have to be, and they're very hopeless, and whenever the odd reader comes along they tell me that they cried, and yet I think I managed to find a little bit of warmth in each, the strings of community and family and comfort that hold on until the very end. I specifically recommend the final scene of chasms, which i wrote in a blinding flash of inspiration and will never be able to recreate - it sticks with me even now, and while I can't remember certain other scenes from these fics, I will never forget that ending, and the way it made me as the writer feel when i finished and looked back on it.

[megamindsecretlair]

The way he talked to her and was an asshole to everyone else 😮‍💨 yeah, just yeah

ETERNALS (2021) dir. Chloe Zhao

[lady-of-the-spirit]

Makkari's most important relationship is not with Druig and vice versa like I know romance rots fan brains but Makkari spent most of her screentime with Kingo (besties!), not Druig. Druig's interactions with Sersi (which to me were some of his most significant moments) show that he was close with her, too.

[djarinova]

WHY is there so many fics in the eternals tag I just want gifs bro

[bishopsbeloved]

the art of falling in love (part two)

natasha romanoff x fem reader (high school au)

best friend!yelena belova, aroace!yelena belova, internalised homophobia, found family trope, coming of age, angst, fluff (eventual happy ending)

part one | part two (7.3k words) | part three | part four | part five | epilogue

read this fic on ao3!

A good few months have passed, now, since that night in the laundry closet. The harsh Ohio winter begins to melt away to a much more gentle spring, and as the world around you blossoms, so do the relations between you and Natasha.

They remain secret, of course. The novelty of sneaking around has not yet worn off, and so for now whatever is blooming between the two of you remains concealed in a cloak of deceit. You can’t help but feel a little guilty for lying to Yelena, your best friend in the entire world, but the blonde doesn’t seem to notice anything amiss. Whenever Nat can tell it’s bugging you, she does her best to calm you down, pressing kisses to the places that she knows will make you forget everything except her. Pretending in front of others is hard, acting as though everything’s the same as it was before and as though the absolute love of your life doesn’t send you good morning and goodnight texts, but it’s made absolutely worth it by the attention she does give you when you’re alone.

It’s nearly four months in, now, and you’re still struggling to believe she’s choosing to do things with you. You — her gangly little sister’s scrawny best friend. There’s no doubt in the fact that she could have anyone at your school, senior or otherwise, and the fact that she has chosen you over everyone else in the world quite often makes your head spin, and you have to drop what you’re doing and go and touch her just to remind yourself that this is reality. You’ve wanted this for so long, since you were able to understand what loving someone in this capacity means, and her reciprocation is quite literally incomprehensible to you.

Well… maybe reciprocation is a slight leap. Even though she’s the one who kissed you first, who instigated this whole relationship, she becomes a little flighty whenever you bring up anything more serious — taking her out on a date, or talking about what will happen between the two of you after she graduates. It stings a little (a lot) to think that you might just be a secret for her, someone she would be embarrassed to be seen in public with. That’s been your number one fear since the moment you were sentient enough to comprehend your feelings for her; the crippling fear that you’re not good enough for her. Her, the perfect popular cheerleader and you, who’s decidedly not that. Every moment that you remain a secret is like a constant reminder that those fears are true. The fact that this might be true and that she is ashamed of her relations with you is something you’ve trained yourself to not think about because you start to get all twitchy if you do.

So that’s how it stays. You try to shut off your mind and keep sneaking around with Natasha, trying not to think of the future or of the day that she will inevitably toss you away like a toy she’s no longer interested in, and trying to enjoy the fact that she sees you as worthy enough of any attention at all.

Right now, it’s the last day of school before spring break — and to celebrate, the Starks are throwing a party tonight at their McMansion. It’s all anyone has been talking about since Tony stood up on a lunch table in the cafeteria and announced it himself last week. You were there for the announcement, sat at your usual table tucked away in the corner with your group of friends. It’s a small posse, but you’re very close-knit; consisting only of Darcy Lewis, Wanda Maximoff, Makkari Eternal, Yelena Belova (of course), and you by extension (you’re often teased by the others that you’re attached at the hip, and it’s true, in many ways). As soon as Tony stepped down from his makeshift podium, the whole cafeteria erupted into noise, and Darcy began to excitedly plan who she would ask to go with her.

Your stomach turned involuntarily at the thought of pretending that you’re available, and tolerating your friends’ (mostly Darcy’s) matchmaking attempts for the millionth time. Before you could even stop yourself, you found your gaze wandering to Natasha on the other side of the cafeteria, where she sat with her own (decidedly larger) group of friends. To your surprise you found her already looking at you wistfully. The two of you shared eye contact for a moment, something oddly intimate for such a public setting. At least you could take some form of comfort in the fact that you weren’t the only one in this relationship uncomfortable in pretending you aren’t accounted for.

“Earth to Y/N,” Darcy hums loudly, and you blink as she snaps her fingers in front of your face. “Welcome back, space cadet. We’re talking about —”

“The party,” you finish for her tiredly. You weren’t planning to go at all, but Darcy’s coerced you into it, promising you’ll only have to stay a couple hours. You didn’t have the energy to fight with her, lord knows how insistent she can be, so you ended up giving in — on the condition that she wouldn’t set you up with anyone tonight. She just grins at you though, seemingly amused by your determined lack of enthusiasm.

Darcy is trying to pair us all off with someone, Makkari informs you long-sufferingly. How unpredictable. (Sometimes you forget that most of the people your age haven’t been hopelessly in love for all of their lives, and actually enjoy putting themselves out there, while not feeling awfully guilty that they’re betraying someone.)

“And Makkari was next on the list!” Darcy signs and speaks, so that Wanda (whose nose is buried in a cloth-bound book) can still hear what’s going on. “You and Druig would be cute together, I think.”

The visceral disgust on Makkari’s face is so intense that Yelena bursts out laughing.

“Don’t laugh, I’m serious,” Darcy complains, even though she’s smiling too.

That is revolting, Makkari tells her with feeling . That man is… a brother to me. And I’ve been told he’s a shit kisser anyway.

“He can learn,” Darcy replies with confidence. Makkari performs a very rude and elaborate gesture. “Hmm, who next… Yelena, you got your eye on anyone?”

Yelena shakes her head vehemently. “No. No, thank you.”

That’s a lie, Makkari comments. I see you and — She fingerspells a name much too quickly for any of you to catch it, and you all lean forward in confusion. Makkari rolls her eyes and spells out the name again, slowly, and then even slower again at the blank looks on your faces. K—A—T—

“Kate Bishop,” supplies Wanda dryly, looking up from her book.

Thank you, Makkari says exasperatedly, while Darcy gasps, clapping her hands together in delight and Yelena’s jaw drops, her cheeks flooding with colour.

“Oh, that’s perfect, I totally see that,” Darcy gushes. “How long has that been going on?”

“Nothing is going on,” says Yelena defensively, “she is — we are partners in class, and she shares her snacks with me sometimes. We went to the mall once or twice. That is all.”

When Darcy stares back skeptically she presses her lips together tightly, leaning slightly into your shoulder. You slide a hand into your best friend’s hair, scratching at her scalp to calm her down, eyebrows furrowing in confusion. This isn’t the giddy behaviour of someone with a crush, you realise — this is genuine discomfort.

“Why are you just projecting onto us that you can’t find anyone to go to the party with, anyway,” you snort to Darcy, signing out the basics of that sentence with your one free hand (Makkari subtly nods to let you know she understood). Wanda snickers at that without even looking up from her book this time.

“Okay, ouch, not true,” Darcy narrows her eyes at you, “Thor Odinson asked me to save him a dance. Is that not the behaviour of someone who’s showing interest in me?”

Makkari snaps back with quick retort that you don’t catch, and Darcy gasps in faux insult, the two of them beginning a quick and fiery exchange. You look down at Yelena to see her already looking up at you, the corners of her eyes crinkled in silent gratitude. You wrinkle your nose at her, and brush the bangs out of her eyes before returning to your food. She stays nestled against your shoulder for the rest of lunch — the rest of which proceeds as normal.

Natasha has agreed to drive the both of you to the party, as naturally she will also be in attendance.

“On one condition,” she warns firmly, as you all sit down at the dinner table. “Neither of you get blackout drunk, okay? I won’t have too much since I’ve gotta drive you both back, but if either of you cannot support your own body weight I will literally leave you there. You can fend for yourselves.”

“Always so serious, Natasha,” Alexi chuckles as he folds rags covered in very pungent motor oil. “Loosen up, да? If the twins want to drink they can drink. Lord knows I did at their age.”

“Not at the dinner table, Alexi,” Melina scolds, slapping at his shoulder as she passes him on her way to the stove. “This is good wood, oil will ruin the varnish.”

“Also it smells like shit,” Yelena adds helpfully, promptly ducking to avoid the massive hand that attempts to cuff her reprimandingly round the back of the head. “What is it from? Don’t tell me you are working on that beast in the garage again.”

“The one and only,” Alexi says with glee, rubbing his hands together at everyone’s collective groans. “What is this about, ah? She will be beautiful once I have fixed her up. You will all love her, I know. I call her… Melina.” He says it in a hushed voice, full of wonder, which is promptly quashed when the real Melina just snorts in amusement.

“Very creative,” she quips dryly as she sets down a crockpot in the middle of the table.

“Oh, you laugh now,” Alexi grumbles, “but when we are in backseat you are never complaining.”

Melina laughs wholeheartedly at that, while you, Yelena and Natasha let out similarly horrified noises.

“I can’t eat,” Natasha announces, pushing her plate away dramatically, and you quickly follow suit.

By the time Natasha pulls up into Tony’s stadium-sized driveway, the sun is already dying in the sky, taking its last fiery breaths that paint the world a shadowy pink before dwindling below the horizon into nothingness.

“Remember what I said —” Nat starts.

“About drinking, yes, I remember,” Yelena finishes for her impatiently. “No throwing up on myself, promise. Can we go in now?”

“Well fuck you too,” Natasha retorts. “Be careful of drink spiking, don’t just take a drink that’s handed to you. There’ll be a lot of people here, Stark knows some… unsavoury individuals so just stick to people we know. And whenever you’re feeling like heading home, text me, or come find me, kay?”

“Okay,” says Yelena long-sufferingly, which earns her a twisted arm in response.

You’ve never actually been inside of the Stark household before — well, maybe household isn’t accurate, it’s a multi-million dollar property and easily the biggest building you’ve ever set foot in. Yelena looks around at the high ceilings and chandeliers with a similar element of awe, while Natasha gazes around bemusedly, what with this place being a regular sight for her.

“Romanoff and co, you made it,” Tony Stark himself cheers, swooping into the lobby with a box full of beers. “Drink, m’lady?”

“Driving,” Natasha grimaces.

“Ooh, unlucky. Probably for the best, though, I heard Barton conspiring to put something gross in the punch. He thinks he’s slick… I swear, that guy thinks everyone else is as deaf as he is.”

Nat snorts in amusement, sending you and Yelena one last glance before heading off to the kitchen with Stark. Yelena links her arm through yours, and the two of you head off into the thick mass of people, on a quest to find your friends.

This task proves difficult. Half an hour in, you’ve wandered quite a few of the Stark Mansion’s impressive number of halls without a single member joining your party. You return to the main area, choosing to settle in a corner near a table covered by very expensive-looking vases, and Yelena disappears briefly to fetch you both some drinks. You don’t notice much what it is, you’re just grateful for the cool relief it provides.

“Oh look, it’s Kate Bishop,” you say absently as you spot her over at the chocolate fountain (now is not the time to question the presence of a chocolate fountain, you decide) next to America Chavez. You made the remark without thinking, knowing that Kate is one of the people Yelena likes to see (“she is like a puppy,” Lena said to you once, “all squishy and bouncy and eager to please. Fun to spend time with”), but you remember what happened at lunch today and tense, looking at her to gauge a reaction. “Oh. Sorry.”

“It’s okay.” Yelena plays it off well, sipping from her drink to avoid replying any further.

Your hand hovers tentatively for a moment before resting on her shoulder. “Y… you know that if, well, anything, you can tell me, right? I won’t… make fun of you. I like talking with you. Just, uh. Just so you know.”

She looks down at you for a moment, gaze darting from the hand on her shoulder to your eyes. You stare back to her with uncertainty, but a desperation to reassert that you care. She observes you for a moment, long and hard, and you daren’t look away.

Then she gives you a short, sharp, singular nod, and downs the rest of her drink in one.

“I know,” she says curtly. “I will go say hi to her. Come find me later.”

She pats your head with a gentleness that one wouldn’t expect from a tall threatening Russian, to let you know she’s not mad, and you watch her go serenely. You’ve known Yelena for all of your life. She doesn’t say things, she does things. Talking has never been her strong suit, especially in a language that isn’t her mothertongue; you have always been careful to respect her boundaries. You’d never expect her to do something she wasn’t ready for, you’ve always been patient with her and you’ll give her as much time as she needs on this one. You know with a calming certainty that she will talk to you when she’s ready, about whatever she’s feeling about Kate Bishop that’s confusing and hurting her. The fact that you can know your best friend, your twin flame with such assuredness (and she know your own behaviours in turn) is something that never fails to make you feel as though you’ve found your place in the world. You don’t know what you’d do without her. She is your family (and the thought of you betraying her so in sneaking around with your sister is like a knife through your guts, so you’ve very quickly learnt to simply not think about it at all). 

But this feeling of otherworldly serenity is shattered as soon as you turn to leave and explore. Your eyes land upon the sight of Natasha dancing with Bucky Barnes, and it makes your blood run cold.

To be fair, it’s not as though they’re the only two on the dancefloor; most of their friendship group are stood in fairly close proximity to one another. But these two have clearly paired up for this song (Nelly Furtado, you think, but you don’t care enough to figure it out), with their arms around one another, and Barnes whirling her around when the beat drops. The way she’s smiling at him, as though she wants do the things with him that she does with you, makes you feel so ill that you have to look away for genuine fear of being sick right here on this dancefloor.

Feeling like this is an overreaction, you rationalise desperately to yourself, even as all the hairs on your arms begin to stand on end. The two of you aren’t exclusive — that much has been made clear by her insistence around avoiding the topic. And it’s just a dance, Bucky is a good friend of Natasha’s, it probably doesn’t even mean anything.

So why do you feel so gross?

You need a drink, you decide, stumbling off in the direction of the kitchen to overanalyse in peace.

You’re not sure how long has passed by the time Sam Wilson stumbles upon you, in a long dark narrow hall that weirdly reminds you of the Hogwarts bridge, one wall lined with gaping windows that look out on the rest of the house. You’re sat on the floor, wedged into a corner with your knees up to your chest and your back pressed against the wall, watching the party from a whole other dimension with a bottle beside you.

“Oh — hey, sorry, I was just on my way to the bathroom,” he laughs easily. “You gave me a fright there, all curled up in the dark like some horror movie shit.”

There’s a moment of silence, during which his eyes are presumably adjusting to the dark, before he speaks again. “You’re… Y/N, right? That kid Romanoff lives with?”

You press your lips together tightly at the mention of her name, but you nod. (Sam looks so funny where he’s stood in the distance, at the far end of this corridor, you think to yourself. Like a tiny matchstick guy you could put in a dollhouse.) Sam must see your response, because he continues, “thought so. Hey, what’re you doin up here all alone? Where’s Belova? You okay?”

You shrug. He dithers for a moment before slowly walking the hallway, approaching you as though you’re a wild animal that might scare at any moment. When you don’t, he slowly lowers himself onto the ground next to you.

“‘S loud down there,” he says after a moment. “Stark’s my bud and all, but his shit gets too much for me sometimes.”

You nod your agreement. You don’t know Sam well at all — you don’t recall ever speaking to him, he’s much more Natasha’s friend than your own — but there are definitely worse people who could choose to talk to you right now.

“That why you’re up there? All alone? Without your conjoined twin?” he adds, spirit light, a teasing smile on his face.

The corners of your lips twitch upward, and you speak at last, voice a little croaky from crying. “I guess. She went off with someone, I was trying to give them privacy.”

Sam hums, and nods in understanding. “Well if you’re not enjoying the party anymore we can get you home. I think Nat stayed sober tonight, or we can call you a taxi… put it on Stark’s card,” he adds mischievously, which earns a laugh from you.

“Yeah,” you rub at your eyes unceremoniously, “this party’s been a bust.”

“We’ll get you home, then,” he says gently. “Parties ain’t for everyone. Romanoff was looking for you, anyway.”

You freeze. “She was?”

“Yeah, think so. C’mon, let’s go.” He gets to his feet, offering you a hand, and very politely doesn’t comment when you have to lean on him a little on the journey back to the main hall.

“Alright. You sit tight, I’ll go find Romanoff.” He pats your shoulder before letting go of you, and wanders off.

You cast your vacant gaze around the party, simply looking rather than really seeing. With the state your brain is in it takes a few moments to process Yelena rushing across the dancefloor, head lowered and hair shrouding her face, with Kate hurrying after her, calling out. The haze that your somewhat intoxicated brain applies and the distance with which you’re watching from makes the scene look unreal, like something from a movie.

You bite the inside of your lip, hard, forcing yourself to pull it together, and discard the bottle you’re holding on a nearby table as you make your way over to Kate — who by this point has given up the fruitless chase and stands forlorn by the front door, staring out at Yelena’s quickly disappearing figure.

“Bishop,” you say, trying to keep your voice even, “what happened?”

She’s already nervous, you can tell, but when she sees you by her side her eyes go big as saucers. “Oh god. Hi. Hi, hi hi. Um, so, I don’t know.”

“I’m not gonna be mad at you, Bishop,” you say tiredly, “but I need to know what’s going on. She’s been acting weird all day, and when Makkari brought you up earlier I think she actually malfunctioned. What’s going on?”

Kate twitches instead of replying, and you groan, pinching the bridge of your nose between your forefingers. “Please just spit it out.”

“I don’t know what happened,” Kate maintains squeakily. “I thought we were good and we went to like some nice roses or something, I don’t know this place is massive it was like a garden I think, we sat on a bench and we were talking just normal talking it wasn’t even anything weird like we’ve talked about much weirder stuff! This was pretty tame! And she just like shut off and went all blank and marched out and I don’t know what I did,” she finishes lamely, with the trademark Bishop puppy dog eyes that Yelena has complained about to you.

You nod. “Okay. Uh, I’ll talk to her, you just… uh, get home safe. And text her, but don’t suffocate her, you know?”

Kate nods vigorously, stammering more  than you’ve ever heard someone stammer before. “Y— uhh, yep, alright, cool, perfect, got it. No… no suffocation. Nope. That would not be good. Uh, is double texting suffocation?”

“Double texting is like the maximum you can go before it’s asphyxiation,” you advise sagely, and she nods like one of those little dolls with a spring for a neck that you see in trucker lorries before scurrying off (she really is like a puppy, you muse to yourself as you recall Yelena’s words; an oversized, long-legged puppy).

“Alright,” you mutter, “where have you gone, Belova?”

When you turn around, it’s not Yelena that you’re faced with, but her sister. Well, it’s a start, at least.

“Nat,” you say, and your voice sounds like it’s very very far away and it doesn’t belong to you, “come on, we have to find… Yelena.” You reach out to grab her hand but she shakes away your touch, and your cheeks burn at the rejection and the realisation you’re in public. Of course she doesn’t want to touch you in public, you think to yourself, and the doubts from the hallway before Sam came and found you start creeping back and your head starts to hurt again.

“What’s going on?” Natasha asks, daring to place a hand on your shoulder as she leads you through the front door and down the driveway. “What’s wrong with Yelena?” She pauses, taking in your appearance for the first time all night under the light of the street lamps that line the long, linear driveway. “What’s wrong with you?”

You open and close your mouth a few times without making any sound, like a fish, searching for the words. Suddenly it feels as though the whole night is catching up on you, and you can’t really explain it but you’re not really you or in your body — it’s like you’re watching from someone else’s perspective, or reading about this experience instead of living it, and all of the thoughts seep out of your head. (Shit, maybe it’s a good thing you don’t drink that often.) Nat’s face softens slightly, and in the solitude of the front yard she’s gracious enough to loop an arm round your waist and guide you gently to somewhere you can rest for a minute; the stone pillars, to the corner of the front of the house.

“Deep breaths,” she urges you quietly, pinning you between a pillar and her body, both of your hands in hers and her face nestled in close against your shoulder, lips by your ear, safely hidden from prying eyes by the shadows of the pillars. You comply, in, out, in, out, until your body is yours again, and you can feel her breath on your cheek.

“I told you not to get shitfaced,” she tells you as she pulls away again enough to be able to look at you, but there’s no real anger in her voice, and her eyes are so soft and warm as they look down at you. Her hands are still in yours, grounding you, and you grip onto them tightly. “What’s going on? Where’s Thing 2?”

“Kate Bishop upset her,” you relay blearily. “She ran off, I was gonna find her, n go home.”

“And what happened to you?” she adds more gently, cupping your face in her hands.

“You,” you mumble, and then realise what you’ve said. Her eyebrows furrow in confusion, and you quickly try to rectify, “no, I’m sorry, I didn’t mean. I just meant… I’m sorry, sorry, I can’t do words, I didn’t mean that. Wanna go home.”

“It’s okay,” she says quietly, “but can we talk about it? What did I do to upset you tonight, huh? To make you get like this?” She moves one hand to prod gently at your chest to emphasise her last two words. 

You shake your head, normally at first, but the movement becomes more exaggerated as though you’re trying to clear your head of this fog. “N — nothing. God. Sorry. It was — me. Just, I just mis… misread the situation. Thought I was special. Was being dumb. Sorry. Can we,” you tug on her arm, “can we go home, I can’t think, my head really hurts.”

Her eyebrows are furrowed deeper than ever, glossy lips pushed together, but she nods — and then her head turns sharply in the direction of  the bushes. You turn too, instinctively, and see Yelena walking toward you. Her eyes lock onto yours for a moment, and you are filled with the most paralysing, existential dread. This is it, you think to yourself, this is how my life ends. But Yelena makes no move towards you, and you realise quickly that even though she can see someone’s hands on you, she can’t see who they belong to. Natasha has picked a place to stop so perfect that Yelena can’t see her from where she’s stood, and this realisation has you weak-kneed with relief. 

The two of you make eye contact for a moment, and despite your deep longing to have Natasha publicly be yours you’re overwhelmingly grateful in this moment that your tracks are somewhat covered . Lena’s gaze flits from yours to your hands, occupied by a shadow-faced stranger; her lips press into a thin line and her eyes fill with tears as she turns and trudges away again, disappearing into the night.

By the time you get home, she’s already there, in your bedroom getting ready for bed. Her tearstained face takes one look at yours, which is in a similar state after your car ride home with Natasha. While Yelena doesn’t say a word to you or Nat, she kisses your forehead before you both climb into your beds on the opposite sides of the room, so you know she’s not really mad. She just needs time, you know, and you’re very careful over the days that follow to give it to her.

Melina and Alexi are all too familiar with Yelena’s silent episodes. They come on whenever she’s processing something, and the only thing you can do to support her is wait patiently until she’s able to talk. Even though you’ve long since grown up, and nowadays can see the grey in a situation that was black and white when you were young, you still think of things in the very simple terms they had been presented to you in as a six-year-old.

“Why is Yelena quiet?” you asked Alexi. “I didn’t do anything.”

The giant man had sunk to his knees, wincing at the pop and crackle of his joints, to be on the same level as you, and took both of your tiny hands in one much larger one. “Uhh… ah. So you have to be very grown up, ah? да, смутьян? Yelena did not have same start in life as you, eh. Me and Melina are her parents, you know, we live here in Ohio with you,” he tickled your belly to punctuate your involvement in his story and you squirmed happily, “but we are not… giving birth to her, ah? Before we bring Yelena to Ohio, in fact before she is brought to orphanage, she is having another mom and dad. Who giving birth to her,” he explained to you in his usual broken English; he spoke with a level of thought and caution that you’d never seen before on the usually crude man.

“In Russia?” you queried.

“In Russia,” he confirmed. “The motherland, ey? So the mom and dad who giving birth to her, they aren’t very nice, ah. So Yelena’s… formative years, when she was baby and learned all the emotion things like cry when sad, smile when happy, she learned different, да? To protect herself. If cry, her old mom and dad get angry because of noise, so when sad she go all quiet and… spaced out and faraway instead. And even though now she is in place where we won’t be angry if she cry, it is still how she has learned things. So if something bad happen, she shut down. It is her way to cope. And you are probably thinking that it is strange, but we have to be gentle to her, okay?” he said encouragingly to you, and you nodded eagerly to this man who even then was like a father to you. “We are gentle, and show her we aren’t get angry when she sad, and when she ready she open up. Make clear we love her. It is big important task. We treat her with kindness when she go quiet, kay? Can you do that, trouble, eh?”

And of course you nodded seriously, because Yelena was your best friend, and you already knew you would do almost anything for her.

You understand a lot more, now, but you still think of it like that. It’s the way her brain works, it’s a result of her start in life — she can’t help it, it’s not her fault, and it would be beyond unfair to make her suffer for something so out of her control. So you barely leave her side in the days that follow, by her side in every mundane task she half-heartedly attempts, even clambering into her bed from your own on the dark drizzly morning where she can’t even peel herself from her own bed. You and Natasha haven’t spoken since that hellish car ride home, but for probably the first time ever the redhead is barely on your mind; you’d do anything for her, it’s true, but you’d do anything for her sister too. You knew it when you were six years old and seeing one of Lena’s silent episodes for the first time, and you know it more than ever now. This takes precedence.

Yelena doesn’t utter a word for six days, only nodding thanks and smiling at you with the corners of her eyes. On the morning of the seventh day, you wake up to her sat on your chest.

“Oh,” you wheeze, “good morning.”

And she smiles at you in reply, wheezy laughter bubbling in her chest at the way your limbs are splayed out awkwardly beneath her weight, and you can tell that she’s back.

She doesn’t tell you what had her spiralling until the evening, but you spend the whole day bouncing around the house with her as though you’re little kids again, and it fills you so wholeheartedly with joy to have your best friend back. She truly is like an extension of you, you don’t feel right when she’s not around, and you don’t feel right when she doesn’t, either. But she’s back, she’s talking and laughing again and it’s contagious. Whatever souls are made of, yours and hers are the same.

Right now the house is quiet, the lights are out and the two of you are sat on the windowsill, looking out at the stars.

“That one’s winking at us,” you whisper with a grin, pointing to a flickering star. You feel Yelena’s eyes on you, and turn to see her smiling softly at you, her eyes crinkling at the corners the way they only ever do when she’s trying to tell you that she’s grateful for something.

“There is a thing that is broken inside of me,” she tells you matter-of-factly. You blink, surprised, but nod encouragingly for her to keep going. “I don’t think I am like you or Darcy or Kate. And that doesn’t feel fair. I thought, it is always me, I just want to be normal. So I say okay, I will be normal, I ignore it and pretend it wasn’t there, and it only makes things go all funny and the world doesn’t make sense. It’s like one of those…”

She pauses for a moment to think. “Ah черт возьми, cannot find the words, you know those… visual — eye tricks? Illusions? At the museums, that are like art, and hurt your brain?”

“Optical illusions?” you offer.

“Yes. When I am pretending it is like looking at the world through optical illusions. Nothing is making sense, and it makes me so sick and sad and lonely. So I was pretending at the party, but it was like everything just…” She makes a boom noise with her mouth, and mimes an explosion. “I could not handle, no more, I thought why me, why don’t I have what everyone else has, what did I do wrong? And then I saw you, making kissy face with some girl —” your heart leaps, but she still doesn’t seem to know who it was, thank god “— and I just,” there are tears in her eyes that glisten with frustration, “and I just… wished it could be me. Not that I want to kiss you,” she adds hastily, “but I want to want it. It would make things so much easier.”

“You… wish you wanted to kiss me?” you ask carefully.

She nods furiously. “Maybe not you, we are Близнецы… that would be weird, probably. Just to… want any kissing. But I don’t. I don’t want to kiss you, or Kate Bishop, or anyone. There is none of that for me, it’s just not…” She gestures vaguely in the air, as though she is searching for something she does not have, and then shrugs. “Я потерян, I don’t know. Y/N, I am aroace,” she tells you proudly. “I did the research, it is me, it fits me perfectly. But I don’t… want to be. Not when everyone else, even you, is kissing people. You are my person, I don’t want to kiss you, but I want to… always be with you. But then I realised,” she gulps, and she’s fighting back tears again, “that’s not… how things work. And you are kissing other people — I don’t care who,” she adds as you open your mouth to interject, “I know it is not my business and you will say when you are ready, but we are growing up and I must do grownup things now and it’s scary. And Darcy is always asking me who I am crushing on and… it is hurting, a lot, to realise no one. Ever. And I’m okay with it, I don’t want it because I want it, I want it because if I don’t want it I’m wrong and it means there is something… wrong inside of me. And my brain is broken enough as it is,” she covers her face with her hands, “and I think I just lost the… hold on everything when the Kate Bishop kissed me.”

“She kissed you?”

“Mhm. And it was like the world ended, I could not handle it. Because I thought I was so good at pretending that I have this thing when I don’t, but I couldn’t tell that… she felt like that, when a normal person would have been able to tell. Darcy could. Makkari could. And I am just done pretending, I think, and I don’t know what to do anymore.”

Her hands still cover her face, but after a few moments you catch her peering through the gaps between her fingers, anxiously trying to gauge a reaction from you. For a split second you see a scared child watching apprehensively through the slats of a staircase bannister, younger than you ever knew her, fearing someone who in this moment she does not know. When the fear is this primal, it is timeless, and all-consuming. You see it in the way she closes the gaps between her fingers again, closes the blinds on the outside world, decides she’d rather not know what it is that you make of this for fear of it being negative; in the way that it has always ended for her, in the rare moment she’s been so fragile around someone. And you feel it, in this moment. It’s so heavy it’s almost tangible, and you fear if you speak or move or think wrong it might shatter irreparably.

So you are absolutely silent for a few moments. You don’t move, don’t blink — you’re not sure that you breathe, actually, while you process what’s just been said.

“I’ll talk to Darcy,” you say eventually. “I’ll tell her to stop. I’m sorry I didn’t see that it was upsetting you sooner.”

Yelena’s hands drop away in surprise, and she looks at you, her cheekbones shimmering a little in the starlight. “You — you aren’t? You don’t —?”

“No,” you say simply, but gently, a hand moving to rest on top of hers, which fiddles with the loose threads on her pyjama bottoms. Its movements cease instantly. “Why would I be? You are okay with me liking girls. Why wouldn’t I be okay with you not liking anyone?”

She crumples, then, in relief; as though it’s so all-consuming that she can’t support herself any longer, and you’re there to catch her. She cries even as you smooth her hair and pull her over to her bed.

“Я тебя люблю,” she chokes out quietly as you cocoon her in the mass of blankets she insists on keeping in her bed.

“Я тоже тебя люблю,” you whisper, “так много.”

A few moments of quiet, where your fingers continue to comb through her hair, and her eyelids begin to flutter.

“I don’t know what to do about Kate Bishop, though,” she admits sleepily. “Because I don’t… ah… not like her. I just don’t think I can be what she wants me to be, but I don’t want to… lose her.”

“It’s all about how you feel,” you remind her gently. “Kate’s cool. She will always respect you, remember. She’s like a puppy, you’re not getting rid of her if you try,” and Yelena giggles a little at that. “We’ll figure it out, Lena. We’ve got all the time in the world.”

She nods, and mumbled something about thinking, and slips into the first peaceful sleep she has had in seven days.

Your mind moves to Natasha, now that you know with certainty that Lena will be okay. You kiss her forehead before quietly leaving the room and heading downstairs, where you know Natasha will still be awake, watching old black and white reruns.

As you reach the bottom of the stairs, Liho pads up to you, meowing and tugging insistently at the bottom of your pants.

“Hiya, buddy,” you murmur, relenting at once and giving him what he wants. You scoop him up just the way he likes and he purrs happily, writhing around in your arms, rubbing his face against yours before eventually settling with his chin on your shoulder and you cradling him to your chest like a baby.

The two of you walk slowly into the living room, where just as you predicted, Natasha is curled up on the sofa beneath a blanket in front of the TV. What surprises you though is what she’s watching.

“I thought you hated this show,” you comment quietly, a smile fighting its way onto your face as you watch Kourtney and Kim fighting. You move to sit down in the armchair furthest from her but she makes a noise of displeasure and pats the spot next to her insistently, even lifting up the blanket for you and Liho to slide underneath.

Well, who are you to deny her?

“I wanted to see why you guys like it so much,” she replies after a few moments, once you’re half on top of her, head on her chest with Liho tucked into the warm gap between you, and you can feel every word that she says. “I’m not sure I really get it, to be honest.” Her fingers gently trace the outline of your face, your jawline, your cheekbones and you melt into the touch. “Are you still upset about the party?”

“I don’t wanna talk about it,” you murmur.

“But I do, you said that I upset you. You’ve been avoiding me all week, Y/N/N, I don’t even know what I did.”

“You didn’t upset me, I was just being dumb.”

“About?”

You groan, and press your face into her chest, sensing she’s not going to let this go. “Just seeing you, like, dance and flirt with other people. I just wish I could do that sometimes. Please, I don’t wanna think about this anymore,” it comes out as something of a whine, and you can feel the way she’s tensing against you.

“Y/N,” she sighs heavily, “you know we have to cover our tracks, if we both keep acting weird when someone flirts with me then people are gonna know that we’re together.”

“But we’re not even together, really,” you mumble. “Please, let’s forget about it. Please.”

“You can’t keep saying stuff like that and then tell me to forget about it,” she scolds half-seriously, and you break the eye contact for a moment to bury your face in her chest again so she won’t see your smile. “You know we can’t tell people about us. It would… it would be too much to handle.”

Whether that’s for you or for her she doesn’t explain, but she doesn’t have to. She might be protecting you, but she’s also protecting herself. She couldn’t handle it, if she held your hand in public. Stolen moments like this are all you’ll ever get, you think to yourself miserably, as she ever so gently lowers her lips to your neck. But even with this knowledge you would still let her do anything to you, in whatever way she wants, because her wanting to touch you in any capacity is going to have to be enough — even if she harbours you like this, her little late night secret, it’s surely better than the days that she barely looked at you at all. You might not ever have her in the way that you want to; every moment like this is precious beyond belief.

So you give yourself over to her completely, and pray that someday this lingering feeling of dirtiness will fade away, and only the gratitude remain.