#or a house where you can’t be yourself because parents won’t leave you alone

[nadvs]

home before dark (part six)

pairing rafe cameron x kook! female reader

rating mature 18+

summary as children, you and rafe were best friends, but then tragedy suddenly struck his family and he shut everybody out. years later, you need his help when a pushy ex-boyfriend won’t leave you alone. rafe is perfect for the job because everybody’s afraid of him. except for you.

content warnings stalker ex, violence, substance abuse, death and mourning of parent

» masterlist

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Rafe didn’t have a drop of alcohol last night, yet he feels violently hungover this morning.

He stares up at the ceiling of your guest room, running on a few hours of broken sleep. He feels so exposed. Once he started talking to you, he couldn’t stop.

He was fine living an empty life. But then you walked back into it, completely unaware of how painful it is to be around you. But it feels so damn good, too.

Nonetheless, when he looks at you, he sees his doomed childhood, his lost happiness. He’s not sure the good will ever outweigh the bad. Especially because he’ll never be able to tell you the entire story. You’ll never completely understand why he is the way he is.

Maybe he shouldn’t have told you to leave last night. You were just trying to help. After so many instances of telling himself he’d stop brushing you away, he’d stop acting like your asshole of an ex, he did it again.

But telling himself he should do something and actually doing it are two very different things. Everything in this nonsensical world is easier said than done.

You’re making breakfast in your kitchen, your temples aching from the sadness that hasn’t left you.

Rafe wasn’t awake before you for once. You don’t know how you’ll face him. You feel just as powerless as you felt when you were ten, unsure of what to say to him or how to act around him.

He was in the car. It won’t stop clanging around in your head. He was with her the last minute she was alive.

And when you tried to hold him, to be there for him, he told you to go away. You know better than to attempt to get him to talk about it again.

“Hey.” Rafe’s deep voice pulls you out of your haze. You look up to see him standing by the far counter, then return your gaze back down to the pan. For once, you’re the one avoiding eye contact.

“Hey,” you reply. Your shoulders are stiff. You know he wants to leave. “Just a second.”

You pull the pan off the range and cross the kitchen, pacing to the front of the house. When you open the door and re-arm the security system, you step to the side, hand tight on the knob.

You will yourself to look up at him, meeting his blue eyes. He’s standing between you and the front step of your home, unmoving.

“Did you want to stay?” you ask. “Maybe have some breakfast?”

It’s like you’re standing on the edge of a cliff, taking another risk of rejection, expecting to fall but having a shred of hope that he’ll pull you to solid ground.

“I can’t.” He walks past you, a hard push off the edge. You’re disappointed. In him for denying you again. In yourself for thinking he wouldn’t.

You’ve always felt safe with him. But right now, while he’ll protect you physically, your heart isn’t even close to feeling whole. He’ll break it every chance he gets.

You spend your morning in a haze. You wish you could carry at least some of Rafe’s pain for him, but he’ll never fully open up to you. Last night, when he told you about the accident, he pushed you away the second you tried to comfort him.

After lunch, you realize you can’t handle being alone any longer. You text a friend and accept her invitation to hang out at her house.

Talking with your friend about everything but what’s been weighing on you is a welcome distraction for a couple of hours. Rafe is always at the back of your mind, but being with someone else helps ease the pain.

After you say your goodbyes, you walk down to the street where you parked. You notice a white paper rectangle tucked under your windshield wiper.

Your stomach drops. Normally, you’d assume it’s a ticket of some sort. That maybe you parked where you’re not supposed to. But you know that’s not what this is.

You pluck the paper from under the wiper and get into your car, trembling as you lock all the doors. You look around, terrified you’ll meet Ty’s stare.

But you’re alone. Nobody is around.

You rip open the envelope. On the top inner fold, in his messy writing: I always have my eyes on you.

Fear’s razor-sharp claws squeeze your insides when you pull out what’s in the envelope. Photos of you from the past few days. At the gas station. At the mall. At the pool.

Ty’s been following you. Taking pictures.

You lock your doors again, even though you know you already did. You’re at a loss for what to do. Where to go.

Just walking up the driveway back to your friend’s house is daunting. And going home to an empty house is just as scary.

So, you go to the one person you know will take away the fear. You drive, park, and find his name in your phone.

Rafe is sitting on the balcony leading out of his bedroom when his phone starts buzzing. He sees your name on the screen and scrambles to answer as fast as possible.

“You okay?” Rafe says.

“No.” Your voice is shaky. “No. He’s been following me.”

“Where are you?” he asks, standing and rushing to find his keys.

“I’m in front of your house.”

“Good,” he says. He tucks his gun into the band of his jeans. “Good. It’s okay. I’ll be right down.”

Rafe spots your car at the end of his driveway. When his eyes find you, he’s sure he’s never seen someone look so shell-shocked. He tugs at the passenger door handle a few times before you catch on that you need to unlock it.

He settles in the seat next to you, brows furrowed in worry, watching you stare ahead at your steering wheel.

“I don’t even know how I - I drove here,” you stutter with a humorless laugh. You’re in a fog.

“What’d he do?” he asks.

Your eyes dart down to the ripped open envelope in your cup holder. Rafe grabs it and leafs through the photos. Anger climbs up his body in half a second.

“Jesus fucking Christ,” he mutters.

“He left it on my car,” you say.

You can’t let Ty do this to you anymore. You’re not above wishing Rafe would beat him within an inch of his life. You want to fight back in every possible way you can. You want him to lose.

“I think this is enough to go to the police,” you breathe. “I need a restraining order or something. I can’t just watch this happen. I mean, I have enough evidence of - of stalking, right?”

Saying the word out loud is what finally breaks you. The tears you’ve been pushing down rush up without any mercy. You start to cry quietly, your chest heaving.

“Listen to me,” Rafe says softly. “He’ll pay for this.”

All he can feel is a burning urge to protect you. To make sure you never feel this way again. He’s not leaving your side for a minute.

You sense Rafe’s hand on your knee. It’s like you’re watching this happen to someone who looks and sounds like you because he can’t possibly be happening to you.

“You want me to drive?” he asks.

You nod, tears rolling down your face, unbuckling your seatbelt.

You watch Rafe’s knuckles turn white as he drives your car down the street. You ask him to stop at your house to grab the letter Ty left for you, glad you didn’t throw it out in haste, and arrive at the police station carrying the proof of your ex’s incessant hounding.

Rafe tucks his gun under the seat before going inside.

The building is dingy. You approach the front desk, locking eyes with the man sitting behind a computer, his uniform dull and washed out.

“Can I help you?” he asks.

“I need to file a restraining order,” you say. The words feel odd coming out of your mouth.

The officer hands you a sheet of paper on a clipboard and a pen, instructing you to come back up to the desk after you fill it out.

It’s vile. You’re scared for your life and in response, a stranger hands you a form.

The waiting room is empty. You and Rafe settle in the worn, ripped up leather seats. You look down at the words in front of you, your hands trembling.

“Here,” he says, taking the clipboard and pen from you. You’re too shaken up to focus.

You watch Rafe write your full name at the top. Your address. Your date of birth. He remembers it all.

Then, he drags the pen over every box that applies to you.

The defendant and I are persons who are in or have been in a romantic relationship. He marks it with an X.

The defendant has inflicted emotional distress on me. X.

I want the Court to order the defendant not to assault, threaten, follow or harass me. X.

I believe I am in danger of serious or immediate injury.

Rafe looks to you.

“Not when you’re around,” you say honestly. “But you can check it.”

When Rafe comes across the blank sections, he sniffs in unease before reading the instructions out loud.

“Give specific dates and describe in detail what happened,” he recites. He doesn’t want to hear this. “Just talk. I’ll write.”

You go through it all from the beginning. The aggressive text messages. The in-person threats. The email. The letter. The photos. Rafe writes it all down. His stomach turns as he listens to you recount it all.

You take the clipboard to record what’s left: Ty’s contact information.

You drop the form off at the front desk and sit back down. Rafe watches you blankly stare ahead, your knees anxiously bouncing.

“It’s gonna be okay,” he mumbles. You nod, unconvinced.

“We can grant you an emergency protective order,” a police officer tells you after taking you and Rafe to a private room. “There’ll be a court hearing within ten days. You need an attorney to represent you and to help prove that the letter and photos are from him.”

“Okay,” you say. The old man across the table is speaking like he’s talking about something boring, like the weather.

“So, wait - are you saying - he can just walk around free until then?” Rafe asks.

The officer looks at Rafe, his face emotionless. Then he looks at you again.

“The defendant will be informed about the temporary order and he’ll be told not to contact you,” he responds. “If he violates the terms, you need to let us know. But a judge will determine if a permanent order should be granted. It’s up to them to decide if this person is a danger to you.”

“Are you kidding?” Rafe shuffles in his seat, shaking his head. “Someone’s gonna tell him to stay away from her and - and that’s it? Until a judge maybe makes it official?”

“That’s the way the law works,” the officer says.

“The law is bullshit.”

“Reconsider your tone, young man,” the cop warns.

Rafe scoffs, like he’s taking it as a challenge. You’re frustrated that the man is being so cold about this, but Rafe’s hostility isn’t helping.

“Rafe,” you say, placing your hand on his forearm. “Can you wait for me outside?”

He meets your eyes. He realizes he’s stressing you out. Times like these, he hates his temper.

Rafe has been standing by the front doors of the building for five minutes when you come out, your arms crossed.

“I didn’t mean to…” he mutters. “He was just so goddamn casual about the whole thing-”

“It’s okay,” you say. “I know.”

You still feel like this is a nightmare you’re waiting to wake up from. Your parents are overseas for work, totally oblivious to what’s happening. You need to call them. How the hell do you even deliver this kind of news?

“Did he say anything else?” Rafe asks as you make your way to your car.

“He just told me I should get a lawyer as soon as I can,” you say. “I found one in the area and I called her office. I have a meeting with her tomorrow.”

You’re still shaky and you’re glad Rafe is heading for the driver’s side without you having to ask him. You settle in your car, locking yourselves in silence.

He’s not starting the engine. He’s just looking at you. You meet his eyes and try not to think about last night.

“You’re scared,” he says. Your eyelids flutter. You are scared. The last twenty-four hours have been a mess.

Rafe wallows in the feelings of failure and self-pity. He’s supposed to make you feel safe and he’s fucking it up. You look terrified.

“I’m not gonna leave your side, alright?” he says. “I’ll make sure you’re never alone until he stops. And he will stop.”

Normally, you’d ask him if he can really take that on. But you have to ask yourself if you can take it on first. Being around someone who’s committed to keeping you at a distance is starting to wear on you. But this all started so he’d keep you safe. Whether you can handle it or not, you will.

Rafe grimaces when you don’t respond. Maybe he’s not enough. Maybe you need to feel like you have the power to keep yourself safe, too.

“I’m teaching you how to use a gun,” he decides.

“What?” you say. You can’t have heard him right.

“You won’t be scared if you know how to protect yourself,” he says. Then he shoves the key into the ignition and drives to his house to swap to his bike.

You cling onto Rafe as he drives his motorcycle along the coast. He approaches a clearing in an overgrown field. You can understand why he changed vehicles when you feel how choppy the terrain is. He navigates over the grass and stops under a tree.

“How do you even know about this place?” you ask once he kills the engine and you take off his helmet.

Rafe doesn’t want to admit that he passes by this barren corner of the island several times a month to pick up coke from his dealer. That he’s been here to shoot at nothing multiple times before.

“Just do,” he says. “Come on.”

You swing your leg off his motorcycle, wishing you didn’t feel the loss of his touch as deeply as you do.

When Rafe leads you deeper into the clearing under the cloudy afternoon sky, the road now out of sight, he pulls his gun out of the back of his jeans. It’s unreal watching him adjust the weapon in his hands, how casually he’s handling something that could kill a person.

You look over your shoulder, wondering if Ty is hiding somewhere. Will you always be on edge like this, worrying his eyes are on you?

You glance back at Rafe.

“Where’d… you learn?” you mumble. “To use it.”

Rafe looks up at you. Your eyes are wide. Maybe this was a bad idea.

He was being impulsive when he suggested this. He forgot how you looked at him when you noticed his gun at the party a few nights ago. He’s supposed to be making you feel safe. But you look freaked out.

“If this is a bad idea, we don’t have to do this,” he says. “I was-”

“No,” you interrupt. “You’re right. I’ll feel better knowing I can defend myself if it… if it comes to that.”

The thought sends a chill through your body. You try to shake away your fear.

“I was just wondering,” you say.

“I taught myself,” Rafe admits.

“How come?”

His jaw clenches.

“I told you, sometimes I get pissed off and…” He tries to bring down the sharpness of his tone. “This helps. It feels good. You’ll see.”

You can tell just how heavy his soul is as you watch him focus, sliding the magazine of the gun in and out. You wonder how many times he’s come out here, running towards a twisted form of solace.

You get it. You don’t know how you’d react if what happened to him happened to you, but you doubt it’d be very different from this. You’d be angry at the world, too. You’d want to take it out any way you can.

Rafe steps closer to you, opening the chamber, every column in it filled.

“It’s loaded,” he tells you. “You can see the bullets here. Safety’s on.”

He closes the chamber and offers the gun to you. It’s heavy in your hand as he rounds to stand behind you.

“You see that tree over there?” he says, his voice low. You follow his finger to see a tall, broken stump in the distance. It looks like it was hit by lightening and torn in half.

“Yeah,” you say.

“Aim at it,” he instructs you. “Use both hands. It’ll have some kick.”

You’re tense as you raise the gun towards the tree. You have one hand wrapped around the grip of the gun and tuck the other underneath the barrel.

“Like this,” he mumbles. His arms encircle you, his chest firm against your back. Your breath catches as he rests his hands over yours. He guides your left hand closer to your right, adjusting your fingers to spread wider.

“Safety’s on,” he reminds you. “Just get used to the feeling, alright?”

“Alright,” you say.

His forefinger settles over yours, pushing down on the blocked trigger.

“This is where you press down,” he says. You nod against him.

Rafe’s trying not to notice how nice your shampoo smells. The way your body feels enclosed in his. The fact that his heart started racing the second he gets close to you like this.

“You ready for me to turn off the safety?” he asks you, zeroing in on the reason he’s here. You nod and in seconds, the loaded gun in your hands is completely unguarded.

“It’ll be loud, okay?” he mumbles. You feel his warm breath against your cheek. “You don’t have to be scared. You have all the power here.”

You feel like you haven’t had any power in a long time. You take a few breaths before you pull the trigger. The bang is ear-splitting and force is hard, jolting your arm, sending the bark on the tree flying within a second. You actually hit your target.

You lose your stability, hands loosening beneath Rafe’s. He quickly pulls the gun back and turns the safety on again.

“Shit,” he says amusedly. “You did it.”

You’re in disbelief that you’re doing this and that it kind of felt good. You turn to look up at Rafe, who’s towering behind you.

Your eyes are locked as you stand together in the desolate patch of unkept greenery. You’re silent now and so is he, your breaths in unison.

“Feel better?” he finally asks.

“Yeah.”

Rafe has spent so long harboring hatred for everyone, including himself. But as he drinks in your features and the way they come together so beautifully, he’s sure he doesn’t hate you and never has. How could he when you look at him like this, like you’re expecting the best from him after all he’s done is disappoint you?

Just like last night, the words come rushing out of Rafe’s mouth. He’s getting worse at keeping them in around you. It’s still uncharted territory, so he’s struggling to find out how to say exactly what he’s thinking.

“I don’t…” he says. He starts over. “You should be… happy. I mean, you shouldn’t have to be dealing with all this.”

You chew on your lip. He’s right. Nobody should have to suffer like this, scared of a maniac who won’t leave them alone, who seems to find pleasure in inflicting fear.

Rafe hates that you’re fighting for your own comfort. You deserve to live in ease.

“Thanks,” you say. You gaze into his eyes, wishing they didn’t see what they saw when he was ten years old. “I want you to be happy, too.”

Rafe’s lids drop, his sharp jaw tightening as he grinds his teeth. He can’t cry in front of you. Not again.

“Give it another try,” he says, handing the gun back to you after turning off the safety. You take it in steady hands, aiming at the tree. He doesn’t hold you this time.

After a few seconds of concentration, you pull the trigger and miss. Then you try once more. You hit your target. You can’t imagine ever using this on a person. But if it comes down to it, to your life or Ty’s, you’re picking yours every time.

You lower the gun, realizing your breaths are faster now.

“I think that’s enough,” you say, your stare still fixed ahead. You feel Rafe slowly take the weapon out of your hands again, his fingers brushing yours.

“You wanna go home?” he asks.

“Yes.”

Without another word, you head back to your house, feeling Rafe’s heart thudding against your palm as you cling onto him on his bike.

Rafe waits in the front room while you try to call your parents. Neither of them answer, likely asleep in their timezone.

You put your phone away, looking defeated. He said he wouldn’t leave your side and you couldn’t be more grateful.

“I’ll try again in the morning,” you tell him. “You can just make yourself at home. There’s food in the fridge. I’m gonna go lie down.”

Rafe nods, his elbows on his knees as he sits forward on the couch, as if he’s ready to strike any threat that might come your way.

You stand and cross the space, then breathe out a slow exhale when you reach the end of the room, your hand on the edge of the wall.

“Thank you,” you say quietly, glancing back at him. “I know it’s hard for you to be around me. My parents will fly back after I talk to them and you won’t have to do this anymore.”

You round the corner, leaving him with his thoughts.

It’s not until after sunset that you come back downstairs, feeling trapped in your own home. Rafe is where you left him, scrolling on his phone, surely bored.

“Hey,” you say. You got a text from a friend a few minutes ago about a party at a house down the street. “You wanna get out of here?”

More people are drunk than sober when you arrive at the party, the music and chatter almost deafening. Rafe is brushing through the crowds in front of you.

You spot your friends on the other side of the room and find some relief in seeing people you know actually want to be in your company.

You tug at his shirt to get his attention. Rafe turns and leans down to hear you over the music.

“I’ll be with my friends,” you tell him. He pulls back, confusion in his stare.

“You sure you should go on your own?” he asks.

“You’ll be close, right?” you say.

Rafe shuffles in place, looking tense before he leans over to speak again.

“I’m fine being around you, okay?” he says, thinking about what you said back at your house. “If that’s what this is about.”

He’s fine. You don’t miss the coldness of his words. He’s simply fine being around you, while you ache for him when he’s gone.

“I don’t want to just be… tolerated,” you confess. “I’ll stand over there and I won’t move.”

“Aren’t we supposed to pretend we’re together?” he asks, suddenly desperate to feel you. He offers his hand. You look down at it.

For the first time, you don’t want to touch him. Because you’re so painfully aware that this is all a farce. Because you went through so much today that keeping up appearances feels ridiculous.

When you don’t take Rafe’s hand, the sting of rejection pools through him.

“I don’t care about fooling him anymore,” you say. “We don’t have to keep lying to everyone.”

You offer him a sad smile and brush past him. Your friends’ faces fall when they see you. That’s when you know you’re wearing your anguish for everyone to see.

You stand against the wall, alert and sharp-eyed in case Ty shows up. Maybe he won’t. Maybe the police scared him from even risking being in the same room as you.

He doesn’t seem to be here. But you’re drained of all hope a mere half-hour later when you suddenly see your ex in the crowd. When his gaze meets yours, his lips thin in anger.

Like an animal charging towards its prey, he rushes towards you, shoving past people. You look around and feel overwhelming relief when you see Rafe’s profile locked on Ty as he scrambles to get to him.

“You went to the fucking police?” Ty shouts, rushing towards you.

Even over the music, you can hear the sound of Rafe’s fist making contact with Ty’s jaw. The crowd quickly scatters, shouts erupting as they clear out the space.

Everyone runs away but you. You step forward, watching in disbelief as Rafe leans over, one hand on Ty’s collar, the other delivering blow after blow.

Rafe’s knuckles ache with every punch as Ty lies on the ground, absorbing every strike, slack-jawed. He sees red. Every punch is harder than the last.

“Don’t follow her, don’t talk to her, don’t even fucking look at her!” Rafe yells. “Do you hear me?”

Pure rage fills his veins as he takes everything out with his fist. Every reason he’s so painfully angry. The misery you’re going through. The loss he feels every single day. The fact that people like this get to live when his mother doesn’t.

“Rafe, that’s enough, man!” you hear. You watch two of Rafe’s friends pull him off. He scrambles to get out of their grip.

You can see Ty clearer now. His face is covered in blood, his head rocking side to side.

You turn to see Rafe is pinned against the wall, a third friend now holding him back. His jerks to get free are violent and frantic. Until he sees you.

You look shattered. He stills. You close the distance.

“Let’s go,” you say, unable to recognize your own voice. “Please.”

Rafe’s friends look at each other, never having seen him settle down so quickly. They loosen their grip off of him and he hurries to you, his body curving over yours in an effort to shield you from everything that just happened.

As you rush out of the party, Rafe’s hand is pressed at the small of your back. You’re glad it is, because you’re not sure you’d be able to handle anything without him keeping you steady right now.

When you make it home, your heart is still pounding in your ears. In the moonlight, you noticed how bloody Rafe’s knuckles were as he drove, so you impulsively lead him to the closest bathroom on the first floor of your home.

He doesn’t realize what you’re doing until you turn on the faucet, checking the temperature of the water before you take his hand in yours and wash off the evidence of the fight.

Blood starts to pool down into the sink in a spiral. It wasn’t that long ago you watched Rafe cleaning himself up like this at his house the night he agreed to pretend to date you.

You turn off the tap and take a hand towel, gently dabbing his swollen knuckles. Rafe watches you, the way your face twists in concentration, his lips parted as he breathes heavily.

“I’m not hurting you, am I?” you ask.

“No,” he says.

You’re not thinking straight. You’re doing this because you feel like you owe him for making Ty pay for what he’s been doing to you, but it’s better not to be touching like this. Not when you know it’s a matter of time before he goes back to being a stranger.

“I guess you can do this yourself,” you say nervously. You hold out the towel for him to take with his good hand.

Ever since Rafe fell into this destructive pattern of fighting, he did this part on his own. Cleaning himself up, dealing with the ache, breathing through the residual adrenaline. Nobody ever took care of him like this. He never let them.

Really, he never let you. Because you were the only one holding out a hand while everyone else watched him drown.

“Can you?” he mumbles. You look up at him, puzzled. He always rejects your offers to help. But not now.

“You want me to?” you say. Your voice is brittle, echoing in your small bathroom.

His eyes are soft, as soft as they were when he was a boy, and he nods.

You continue to press the towel against his knuckles. You look at his hand, thinking about the way you watched it write for you earlier today, recording every detail of the torment you’ve lived through over the past few weeks.

What would’ve Ty done if he got his hands on you tonight? And how could Rafe think so low of himself, call himself a psycho, say he fucks everything up, when he could be the only reason you’re alive right now?

“You okay?” he mumbles. You look up, realizing he’s watching you and can see the anxiety etched into your expression.

“The court order didn’t work,” you respond. “It didn’t scare him. It’s a good thing you were there. Thank you.”

Rafe has never felt sure about his place in the world. Not after his loss. But the sense of purpose that taking care of you has given him, the feeling of being told it was good he was somewhere, is unlike anything else.

He flexes his throbbing hand, your words from earlier tonight rattling in his mind. The insinuation that he tolerates you. It’s wrong. It may bring back bad memories to be around you, but it’s not like he’s merely putting up with you, like he’s eager to get rid of you.

“Should I get you ice?” you offer.

Rafe doesn’t answer. He only stares at you.

“I don’t just tolerate you,” he says after a moment, his voice rough.

Your heart aches. Tears prick your eyes. You inhale slowly, your face crumpling with sorrow.

“What is it?” he says.

“I can’t… You told me not to talk about it.”

Rafe chews on the inside of his cheek. He can tell how much it’s been hurting you, how much you’ve been yearning to have this conversation.

“Say it.”

You look down, so overwhelmed that it hurts, accepting his invitation.

“What happened to you was… I don’t have the words. I never did,” you whisper. “It changed you but I can still see parts of who you were before. You’re a good person. Maybe you don’t think so, but you never stopped being good. You asked me why I care about you. That’s why.”

Rafe is speechless. Everything in him is urging him to walk away from you again. The closer he gets to you, the more it hurts. The more it reminds him.

He ignores the impulse to leave. He lets you keep talking.

“And I understand why you shut me out. You were grieving. I’m just so… so, so sorry.” You know it’s a risk to say, but this might be your only chance to tell him. You take a breath. “She’d be so proud of you, Rafe. I know it.”

You stare up at him through your lashes. Finally, you’ve said everything you’ve been wanting to say to him for years.

To hear someone he trusts telling him his mother would be proud of the man he’s become, even when he always feels so angry and rotten and broken, gives Rafe an overpowering sense of relief.

Then, it creeps up on him, the way he can’t bear that he survived and she didn’t. She should have stayed alive. Why did he deserve it? Why didn’t she?

You watch Rafe’s face fall, brows pinching, eyes starting to gleam with tears. Seeing him cry because of what you just said is a punch in the gut.

You should give him space. It’s what he always wants. But just in case he needs any of the comfort you can offer him, you give into your impulse to touch him. At this point, it’s senseless to fight it.

You drape your arms over his shoulders, bringing him close to you, squeezing him into a hug. When he doesn’t return your embrace, you start to retreat, but then you feel big hands drag up your waist, pulling you back in.

Rafe digs his head into the crook of your neck. His body starts to tremble with his cries. And finally, he surrenders himself to you completely.

(part seven)

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[jq37]

Your sister who you love so much (even though you’ve never shown it) asks you to be her sister again, her true sister, in deed not just in name. And yes, of course that’s what you want. That’s what you’ve always wanted and now that she’s shattered your defenses and destroyed the ones who would pit you against each other and died right before your eyes, how could you refuse? How could your answer be anything but yes?

So you go home with her, not the ruins of your perfectly posh prison, but a new home which provides love and care and bunk beds and it’s so so nice. Ridiculously nice. Sickeningly nice. And a small, sick part of you almost misses your old home (if you can even call it a home) because yes, it was cruel and awful and you hated every second of it but you knew where you fit. You knew what your role was. You don’t fit in here. Everyone accepts you because they’re all so nice, but they don’t know how to volley back your sharp words or find a hidden, “I love you” within an offhanded insult. 

And then your sister leaves to save the world again because that’s who she is. She’s the kind of person who goes out to save the world with her friends when she’s needed and you’re not. You’re not, not, not. Not on any count. You don’t save things, you destroy them. And friends? You have to allow yourself to be vulnerable for friends so of course that’s out. Your sister is 16 and she’s out saving the world for the third time and you, fully grown at 18, are a wanted criminal who hasn’t even properly graduated from high school. You can’t stop thinking about it and, without your sister and her friends occupying the house as a buffer, the ones who are left try to get you to talk about it so you make a rash decision, as you are wont to do. You leave, like a thief in the night. You can make your own way. You can. You’ll prove it.

You find a shitty apartment and pay for it with the ill-gotten spoils from one of your many exploits. You could probably pawn some treasure for more luxurious  accommodations–there is that chest of rubies just lying around–but you don’t. That’s not what you deserve. And what if your sister needs help later? You don’t have access to your parental funds anymore which means she doesn’t either. You know she won’t ask anyone for help–you wouldn’t. But someone has to look after her. You’re an abjuration wizard. You protect people. You protect her. No, that’s a lie. But you want to make it not a lie. You want to start now.

If you’re saving the rubies then you need a source of income. You narrow down your least villainous talents to try and find a suitable job and hit on teacher. You’re good at magic, right? So how hard can teaching it be? Hopefully not as hard as securing the job, which proves trickier than expected because, oh right, you’re a wanted criminal who hasn’t graduated high school. But you dip into your villainous talents once more and tell yourself it’s for a good cause. You secure the job. You’re doing it. You’re making your own way. 

You want to text your sister to see if she’s doing alright but you don’t want to intrude and you don’t want to answer any questions about what you’ve been doing because then either you’ll have to lie or explain that you’ve left again, right after you promised you’d be there. Both options make your heart ache, especially since it’s her birthday. So you wait until the house is empty (mostly empty–you’re never really alone in a haunted house) and enter the room you and your sister shared for too brief a time. You paint her walls with carefully rendered runes, filled with all your abjuration magic and stamped with your arcane mark. It’s a possessive bit of spellcraft. A selfish claiming of a climactic kill. You mean to make a different kind of claim. You are claiming your sister, as she asked you to months ago. You are telling the world that she will not be fucked with while you live. Your rooms were so close before. You could hear her. You knew every night she went to bed in the grips of a panic attack with no one to console her. She won’t have to feel unsafe in her own room again. You can make sure of that at least. 

The sun rises one morning and you know that means your sister is alive and well and coming home. You teleport to Falinel to make sure she returns to her favorite dessert. It’s worth the spell slot and the chance of being recognized. The tower where they kept you is long destroyed and you know that this time, if you were ever captured or even killed, rescue wouldn’t be measured in a matter of months. It would be days. Hours even if your clever sister and her powerful divination magic put things together faster. The thought fills you with more emotion than you know what to do with. You leave a note. “I love you,” you think. “Enjoy the nemesis ward,” you write. 

Practicing magic, as it turns out, is a very different skill than teaching magic. The children are loud and obnoxious and you don’t quite realize that maybe your expectations are too high between the hothouse you grew up in and your sister being the world’s greatest diviner, fullstop. You know you can always go back to the manor, but that somehow makes it easier to stick it out. You’ve always been taught that pressure provides the best results but there’s something about the security of a safety net that makes everything a bit more bearable. And so what if you have to take a second job involving a light criminal element. You’re only smuggling–that’s barely even a real crime.

Your sister who has saved the world thrice now, texts you and she wants help. She is looking to you for help. And you do your best to oblige. You offer your knowledge, you offer your rubies, you invite her over again and again. She sends you a text and deletes it. You’re not the diviner in the family but you drain your spell slots scrying for information you already know. Information that you'll hear from her own lips in just a few hours. “I love you.”

She finally visits and you’re not unaware of the state of your apartment. You know you’ve been too exhausted for an Unseen Servant or even a round of Prestidigitations but you know that your sister has seen your mind and there’s nothing messier about you than that. She teases you and you tease her back. She’s the only one who understands how to deliver a complement with a backhand so you can receive it without your skin crawling. The only one who knows how much tartness you need with your sweetness. 

Later, she visits again. She sits in your filthy apartment and you watch trash TV and it’s the highlight of your week. Your month even. That should feel pathetic but, somehow it doesn’t. You want to tell her. She deserves to hear it from time to time without having to filter out the layers of prickliness that you add as second nature, a layer of armor as ever present as your abjurer’s ward. You may not be able to handle naked sentiment but she can. You’ve seen her with her friends. How affectionate they are. You’ve always been taught that loose lips sink ships but you have experience with ship sinking and this prospect fills you with much less dread. You tell her and it’s awkward and fumbling but you manage. Maybe loving people isn’t so different from loving cats.

You have a new job which is perfect because the school year is almost over and, blackmail or no, you aren’t sure how many times you’ll be able to get away with casting Sleep on your class to give yourself a break. Honestly, you should have applied for jobs in Leviathan from the start. Why would pirates care about your sketchy history and lack of credentials? You could teleport yourself to Leviathan every day but that would be a waste of a spell slot when the door to the Compass Points is right there in the manor (and if your sister happens to be there too then hey, happy coincidence). While you’re there, you might as well do your laundry. And stay for dinner from time to time. And spend time with your sister in your her room where your runes stand sentinel and your old bunk lays untouched. You don’t think you’re staring but later, as you go to grab a snack from the kitchen your sister throws you a casual, over the shoulder glance. 

“You can just move back in, if you want.”

And would it really be that easy? Just like that? After a year of trying to make a point or a plan or a better version of yourself or whatever? Just like that? 

You remember a year ago. You and your sister and words that will be burned into your mind forever. 

“Despite the fact that you have not earned it, I do love you.”

Just like that. 

You say yes. You stay. 

[hcsiqs]

| begin again

• pairing: kk arnold x fem!reader

• summary: based on taylor swifts ‘begin again’

• warnings: readers height is specified, use of y/n

Took a deep breath in the mirror

He didn’t like it when I wore high heels

but I do

You stood in front of the full length mirror, turning to the side to see the back of the dress you were wearing. As you did your boyfriend walked into the room and you gave him a small smile through the mirror before his eyes dropped to the heels that you had put on.

“You can’t wear those,” he stated as he fixed his tie behind you.

It wasn’t even that you were super tall, you stood at the average height, your boyfriend on the other hand was slightly below average and hated when you made him appear shorter than he was.

“Why not? I like them,” you frowned as you turned around to face him.

“I don’t. Change,” his voice was full of annoyance as he spoke to you before he disappeared into the bathroom leaving you to yourself once again.

Your eyes dropped down to the heels you were wearing that you had bought specifically for tonight. You had been saving up your money so you would be able to wear them, but you hadn’t taken into consideration that he would be butt hurt by them.

So, you reluctantly changed your heels for a pair of flats and looked back into the mirror. It just wasn’t the same.

“Much better, baby. You ready?” your boyfriend asked as he walked out of the bathroom and wrapped his arms around your waist, his chin resting on top of your head. You just nodded your head before the two of you left to go for prom.

Turn the lock and put my headphones on

He always said he didn’t get this song

But I do, I do

As the two of you made your way through the house with both your parents snapping photos to capture your prom night, you could feel the tension of your relationship rising.

It had been like this for several weeks now, but with prom around the corner neither of you wanted to have to find a new date, especially after being together for three years now.

But once you made it out of the way of your parents you both got into his car and you immediately went to grab the aux to play your favorite song, but he took the cord back quickly.

“I don’t like that song. Listen to it in your headphones,” he grabbed the headphones out of the consul and handed them over to you. Because of how different y’all’s music taste was he always kept headphones so you both could listen to your respective songs.

“Shouldn’t we be like present in the moment? I won’t even play the song, I promise,” you had your head turned as you spoke to him, almost trying to get your relationship back to where it was two years ago.

“I don’t give a fuck about being present, Y/N. Just wanna get this shit over with.”

Walked in expecting you’d be late

But you got here early and you stand and wave

I walk to you

As you exited your car you could feel the nerves building your stomach. You and KK have never hung out alone, it was usually after a big win and the two of you both ended up at the same after party. And someone how the two of you always ended up together the entire night, flirting back and forth, so when she asked you out you weren’t completely surprised.

You had never been on a date with a girl before, which was only adding to your nerves. After your high school relationship ended you realized that maybe guys weren’t it for you, and when you met KK you felt yourself being more attracted to her day by day.

Because of your nerves you had gotten to the restaurant early, not expecting KK to already be there, but when you started walking to the front doors you saw her standing there with her phone in hand waiting for you. You felt yourself let out a breath you weren’t even aware you were holding as you looked at her, and just then she lifted her head up with the smile on her face that you had been thinking about for days and now and she waved at you.

You walked a little bit faster until you were stood in front of her, a smile on your lips. “Hi,” you looked up at her feeling your heart literally flutter.

“Holy,” she dragged her hand down the bottom of her face as tried to find a word to describe how amazing you looked, “You look so beautiful.”

“So do you,” you giggled before she pointed her hand to the door asking if you wanted to go inside.

You pull my chair out and help me in

And you don’t know how nice that is

But I do

The two of you walked behind the hostess, KK’s hand lingering on the small of your back as she guided you between all the tables. And when you arrived at your table you immediately went to pull your own chair out by KK swatted your hand away, “Nuh-uh,” she shook her head before pulling it out and motioning for you to sit down.

“Thank you,” you replied quietly, feeling your heartbeat sky rocket. No one had ever done these simple little things for you and you really didn’t know how to even react.

“I’d never let my girl pull her own chair out,” KK smiled as she sat down across from you.

“Your girl, huh?” you tried holding back your smile as you cocked your head slightly.

“When this is the best date of your life you won’t be questioning it,” she replied, as her hand found yours across the table.

But you throw your head back laughing like a little kid

I think it’s strange you think I’m funny

Cause he never did

And KK was right, it was the best date of your life. She seemed interested in even the boring parts of your life and she brought up little things you had told to her in your past conversations.

Then when you told funny stories, she actually laughed, something your ex had never done no matter how you told it to him.

“It was like I was talking to a brick wall!” you laughed, your cheeks hurting from how much you were smiling.

“I bet!” KK laughed running her hand down her face as she shook her head.

I’ve been spending the last eight months

Thinking all love ever does is break and burn and end

But on a Wednesday in a cafe

As the date ended and she walked you to your car you couldn’t believe you had waited this long to go out with her. It was like you had found your person. The one person that understands you inside and out.

“Shut me up if I’ve read this wrong or whatever, but I would really like to go out again,” you told her a smile on your lips as you leaned against the door of your car.

“I’d like that too,” she smiled walking towards you, her hands finding a place on your hips. “Is it ok if I kiss you?” her voice lowered to more of a whisper as her finger tips moved against the back of your dress.

“Please,” you smiled and one of her hands came up to cup your cheek as she pulled you in, her lips gently placed against your own.

You could’ve sworn that you felt your heart literally explode in that very moment. You never wanted to stop kissing her and feeling her touch, it was everything you had ever dreamed of it.

And then it hit you. This is what actually liking someone is like.

I watched it begin again

[obsessedelusional]

Eddie ‘The Munch’ Munson

parings ✦ Eddie Munson x reader

summary ✦ Your best friend, Chrissy, confronts you wanting to know why you’ve been so distant. When you tell her it’s because you’ve been spending all your time under Eddie Munson she’s in shock, wanting to know everything. So you do exactly that, which leads to Chrissy reevaluating her relationship with Jason. Does her big mouth get you in trouble?

authors note ✦ thanks for all the love on my most recent post omg hope y’all enjoy this one too!! appreciate feedback and reblogs <3 my fav is Eddie being obsessed with eating the reader out expecting nothing in return so that’s where this came from lol

⊹ ꙳ ✦ ⁺ ‧ ⨯. ⁺ ✦ ⊹

“I still can’t believe the reason you’ve been disappearing lately is because you’re too busy fucking Eddie Munson.” Chrissy laughs out loud which comes to an end quickly when you tell her shut up. You decided to come clean when she pulled you to side asking what was wrong and why you had been come so distant.

You two grew up together, you considered her family at this point. Chrissy and you were on total opposite sides of the social spectrum. You joined band and she became a cheerleader. That never stopped you two from being inseparable. At first you tried to hang out with her new friends but couldn’t handle it which she took no offense to. You found your own group of friends quickly but you two always found your ways back to each other. Most weekends spent at each others homes or hanging out together at the local mall. You felt like you could tell her anything and felt bad you have kept this a secret as long as you had.

“So how’d this happen?” Chrissy asks wanting to know all the details. But before you can respond the schools bell goes off signally that lunch is over. She groans annoyed, “You best believe I’ll be at your house tonight after practice and you’re going to tell me everything.” She pulls you into a hug before leaving you alone in the quiet hallway which quickly fills up with other students hurrying to their classrooms. Eddie walks by, catches you staring and shoots you a smile. You waste no time pulling out your phone to send him a text making your way to your next period.

You: my parents won’t be home tonight

Only a few moments pass before your phone dings, it’s Eddie.

Eddie: I have a drop off but as soon as I’m done I’ll be at yours

You: I’ll be waiting for you

—

You’re sat at home anticipating Eddie’s arrival. Periodically checking your phone waiting for any messages letting you know he’s on his way. Your parents would be out of town this weekend, leaving you home alone. No text from him but the music blaring out of a car stereo notifies you, he’s here. You waste no time running down stairs, to the front door to greet him. You open the door just as he’s about to knock.

“Come on, we have one hour until Chrissy’s coming over.” You grab his hand to lead him upstairs, straight to you bedroom. You push him towards your bed he stumbles backwards eventually landing on it.

“Only one hour! What ever shall we do?” He asks, putting on one of his accents, he pulls you in closer so your standing between his legs. You laugh before smashing your lips into his, he hoists you up so you can sit on his lap. His hands wander under the skirt your wearing. “No underwear?” You nod no in response, his hand grasps your ass softly before pulling away swiftly and smacking it hard enough to emit a noise out of you.

“I want to please you.” You pout, letting yourself unbutton his black skinny jeans.

“Won’t be necessary.” He lifts you up unexpectedly causing you to hold on tight before he lays you down so he could be on top. He starts peppering kisses down you neck, pulling at your t-shirt. You help him take it off, exposing your chest. “No bra either? You’re trying to kill me.” He says latching onto you nipple, sucking causing you to arch yourself forward. He let’s go and continues kissing down your body. Stopping at where you skirt starts lifting it up and using his strong hands to spread your legs. Your glistening cunt on full display for him. “One hour right?”

“Yeah,” You gulp nervously knowing what’s coming. Eddie loved nothing more then to spend an extended period of time between you legs making you finish over and over again. Half the time you’d have cum multiple times and he’d never once let you get him off. Telling you that causing you pleasure was more than enough for him.

“I wanna see how many time I can make you cum before our times up. Is that okay?” He asks, looking up from between your legs. You nod yes response but that’s not enough. “I need your words princess.”

“Yes.” Is all you can manage to get out and he doesn’t miss a beat, his tongue running up your opening landing on you clit. Your whimpers fill the silence in the room along with sounds of his fingers slipping between your folds. His middle finger enters your opening and curls it upward.

“More please.” You beg and he adds another finger, stretching you out. His tongue leaves your clit and is replaced by his other hand, running circles around your clit.

“You’re so fucking hot when you beg. So fucking needy.” His words just what you need to send you over the edge. Moans as loud as a yell leave your mouth. Eddie can feel your orgasm as your privates clench on his two fingers. He shuts you up by kissing you his fingers still pumping in and out of you.

—

You two lost track of time because before you knew it the moment is interrupted by the sound of pounding on front door, a female voice yelling for you. He pulls away from you so he can look out your bedroom window.

You rush throwing your clothes back on and finding your phone to find the time. It had been well over an hour at this point. You have several missed messages and a few missed calls from her. You shoot her a text saying you’ll be downstairs in a moment.

You look into the mirror on your vanity and quickly brush your hair and fix your makeup so it’s not as evident what she’s walking in on. In the mirror you notice Eddie sat on the bed readjusting his boner. Facing him you say, “I hate to kick you out so early but I promised her we’d hang and catch up. She’s was pretty upset because I’ve been preoccupied.”

“By what?”

“You.” He smiles and kisses you one last time before he has to go.

“Do you want me to climb out the window once you let her inside?” Eddie suggest, almost as if he’s had to do that before which makes you sad at the thought of that.

“Why would you do that?”

“In case you don’t want her to see me.”

“I don’t care if she sees you. She knows about you.”

“She does?” You nod, smile reassuringly letting know Eddie everything’s okay. Eddie follows you down stairs, watching as you open the door to let Chrissy in.

“What took you so long?” She groans annoyed throwing her backpack to the ground stopping in her tracks when she sees Eddie standing there. “Oh that’s what took you so long.” She narrows her eyes, looking between Eddie and you.

Uncomfortable by the situation Eddie excuses him self. “We’re still on for tomorrow right?” You ask before he walks out the front door.

“Wouldn’t miss it.” With that he’s gone, shutting the door behind him.

“Girl what the fuck was that?” She makes her way to your bedroom, you follow closely behind. Watching her as she sits on your bed. The bed where you just spent the last last hour being eaten out. You try to hard not to think about it. “Can’t believe you were to busy fucking Munson to let your best friend in.” She looks around your bedroom before terror strikes her, “In this bed too?” She shrieks getting up to move to the chair sat in the opposite corner.

You can’t help but laugh before apologizing, “Sorry we were—“

“Fucking.” She interrupts you.

You sigh excepting the fact that there’s no way to hide it, “Sort of.”

“Sort of? What does that mean?” She ask curiously, “and don’t spare any of the details please.”

“He was going down on me.” You admit. Figuring it was your turn to share the gory details of your sex life. Have been forced on multiple occasions to hear about Jason. The man you hated but knew if you tried to say anything it’d only push Chrissy away from you.

“Must be nice.” She says flatly, distracting herself by scrolling through her phone.

“Jason doesn’t go down on you?” You ask absolutely baffled.

“No he refuses.”

“Do you go down on him?” You ask and she nods yes, likes she’s to ashamed to say it out loud. “Girl what the fuck? Is there anything favorable about him?”

“Enough about me.” She laughs uncomfortably, “How is he in bed? How big is he?

Rolling your eyes annoyed you respond, “Amazing actually. He enjoys making me finish over and over again. Half the time I don’t even have to do anything which is shame because his uhh… is huge.”

“I didn’t think men like that actually existed.” She sighs.

“They’re out there. You’ve just been stuck on the same dick for years, expand you horizons Chrissy. Have you ever even had an orgasm?”

“Ya know they have a name for men like that?” She says completely disregarding your jab at Jason and the question you asked. Her lack of answer was your answer. “He’s a munch.”

“A munch?” You ask, you’ve never heard of it before.

“A man who gets off on performing oral. Doesn’t expect anything in return. Usually because he’s obsessed with the woman who’s receiving.” You laugh because that describes Eddie to a t.

“Sounds a bout right.” You smile.

“Instead of Eddie ‘The Freak’ Munson we should start calling him Eddie ‘The Munch’ Munson.” Chrissy says erupting in laughter at her own joke causing you to roll your eyes for the hundredth time since Chrissy showed up.

You two spend the next few hours catching up on town gossip and updating each other on your lives. The conversation somehow always ending back on the topic of Eddie. You didn’t mind though, it was nice finally being able to talk to someone about him. It’s getting pretty late so Chrissy decides to go home not before letting you know she’d be having a talk with Jason about how things needed to change.

—

The entirety of you weekend was spent in bed with Eddie. Waking up next to him was something you could get used to. You two would stay up supper late fucking and sleep in till the later afternoon. Sometimes being woken up in the middle of the night because Eddie couldn’t contain him self. His favorite image was you laying in bed in nothing more than underwear and oversized t-shirt. It all came an end Sunday afternoon when your mom notified you they were on your way home. Sadly you two separated making plans for Monday night at his place.

You were so exhausted from the weekend you slept through your alarm Monday morning. Waking up near noon, your parents already gone for the day. You’ve never gotten ready so fast in your life. Only time to brush your teeth and your hair before running out the door. When you arrive to school it’s lunch time, “Better late than never I guess.” You mutter your self as the lady at the front desk checks you in. Walking out the office you make your way to your locker, throwing stuff from your backpack inside.

“Where have you been?” Chrissy says as she approaches you, wearing her cheer uniform.

“I over slept.”

“So you haven’t heard anything?”

“Heard what?” You groan not in the mood for any drama right now.

“Before I tell you what happened please tell me you’re not gonna be mad at me.”

“What did you do?” Your mind racing at what Chrissy could of possibly done, shutting you locker so you can face her.

“Promise me.”

“Fine I promise I won’t be mad at you.”

“So it’s kinda your fault because you got into my head. All the talk about how good Eddie is in bed made me upset that Jason is the way he is. So after I left yours I went straight to his house and ripped into him.” She hesitates to finish her story so you tell her to skip to the part that would piss you off. “Well he wasn’t taking me seriously and I know how much he dislikes Eddie. So I told him I heard from a friend that Eddie is so good in bed, the best she’s ever had. Always going down on her.” Your eyes widen in horror, “He immediately assumed I meant one of the girls on the cheer squad. He was so mad I would even compare him with Eddie. So he went around telling his friends what I said.”

“Chrissy why would you tell him all that?”

“I’m not done yet.” Guilt spreads across her face.

“Oh my fucking god. What else could you possibly add?”

“Now all the girls on the squad are talking about Eddie and gushing over him. Talking about how who should be the one to find out if the rumors are true. I’m so so so so so sorry.” You can’t come up with a response trying to wrap your mind around all the information she just dumped on you. Out of your peripheral you can see Eddie headed you way, he looks upset.

“Please keep walking,” You mutter to yourself. Chrissy notices Eddie and apologizes again before running of leaving you alone. As you try to follow her your stopped by someone grabbing your wrist. You turn to face Eddie smile plastered on your face praying that he has no idea. Considering this is the first time he’s publicly approached you he must know.

“Care to explain why I’ve got three different cheerleaders in my DMs and Sinclair telling me that everyone on the basketball team was talking about my performance in bed?”

“Huh! That’s crazy.” You laugh awkwardly as Eddie backs you into lockers.

“Considering your the only one at this school I’ve slept with and your best friend is Chrissy Cunningham. It all leads back to you.” You quickly decide that coming clean is your only option.

“I shared details with Chrissy as you do with your closest friends.” He nods watching you attentively as you explain. He’s so much taller then you so you have to look up when you speak to him. Which doesn’t help your nerves at all, fluttering your long lashes at Eddie in the hopes that it’s enough to get you out of this situation.

“And?” Your presenting innocent didn’t work.

“Apparently Jason doesn’t go down on her. So when I told her how much you enjoy it she called you a munch.”

“A munch?” He questions, you ignore it and continue the story.

“She told Jason that he she do it because you do it and she thought because of how much he dislikes you it would make him want to do it. It didn’t. It only made him mad and he told everyone on the basketball team which obviously got passed onto the cheer squad. Now they’re all thirsting after you.” You sigh finishing your rambles.

“Could be a worst rumor going around.” He laughs, allowing you to relax knowing he’s not too upset.

“Yeah and now you can have any cheerleader you want.” You laugh back trying to make a joke of the whole situation.

“I don’t want any cheerleader.” He rejects your joke.

“Who do you want?” You grin, hoping his answer aligns with your hopes.

“Who do you think?” He playfully jokes.

“I dunno.”

“You.” He says and lowering himself to your level, can’t help yourself from blushing at how forward he’s being in such a public setting. His hand finding your face before giving you a sweet short kiss soothing any anger you had toward Chrissy for opening her big mouth. Pulling away he asks, “So are you going to explain what a munch is?” Embarrassed your hands cover your face. “Nah uh you’re gonna tell me.”

“It’s basically a man who enjoys eating pussy without getting anything in return.” You spit it out fast as humanly possible, hands still covering your face.

“Guess that makes me a munch,” he laughs, pulling your hands away from your face.

“She called you Eddie ‘The Munch’ Munson.” You can’t believe your sharing any of this.

“That’s munch better than the original version.” Eddie jokes, laughing at his own joke. When you don’t laugh he ask, “Don’t you get it? Munch instead of much?”

“Yes I understand,” You laugh burying your head into his chest, cheeks red from embarrassment. His arms wrap around you, resting his head on yours before giving the top of your head a kiss.

[watatsumiis]

When You Can't Get Out of Bed (Genshin x Reader Drabbles)

Some days, it’s nigh on impossible to drag yourself out of bed, let alone get up and leave the house. What is meant to be a safe haven instead becomes a prison - albeit a comfortable one. Sometimes, all you need is somebody to take care of and comfort you until you’re ready to face the world once again. 

Content: Various characters x a gender neutral reader (who is implied to be struggling with depression/going through a hard time).

Characters: Albedo, Ayato, Capitano, Neuvillette, Thoma, Yae Miko.

Albedo doesn’t really understand what’s wrong, or why you’re acting the way you are. It’s just not something he can empathise with in the slightest. He may come off a little snippy or abrupt when he first finds you lying about in bed, but it’s more because he’s worried about you being unwell than anything else. He may leave you be for a bit while he does some reading up on the subject, but once he’s gathered enough information, he’s really good with you. He’s so patient and sweet and kind, and will sit in your room to keep you company while he does theory work if that’s something you’d benefit from. He encourages you to try grounding techniques and will bring you nice hearty meals to keep you going. He’s gentle and patient and will let you take things at your own speed without a single complaint.

Ayato has little to no idea about what to do. One of his parents would get like this occasionally when he was young, but he would usually just step up and take over their responsibilities without a word. When it’s you, however, he’s just not sure at all. He doesn’t want to leave you alone when you’re like this, nor does he want to smother you. He just wants you to know that you’re loved and cherished and that the Yashiro Commissioner has your back no matter what’s going on. If work calls for him, his final solution, as it often is, is Thoma, who he will have check up on you often, bringing in your favourite treats and other little gifts that Ayato has organised for you. You’ll likely end up with a bed covered in new trinkets, hand-written letters from Ayato’s desk and items of interest, as well as comfortable new blankets and pillows (and plushies, if that’s your thing) to keep you company while you recuperate. 

Capitano gets it. He’s been there. He’s a busy man, but if it seems like you’re in dire need of company, he’ll find a way to shirk his duties so that he can stay with you for as long as you need. He doesn’t really have many words of affirmation to give to you, but his actions more than make up for it. He’ll sit by your bedside and read to you (or tell you stories), make you all your favourite comfort meals, and just altogether be great company. He’s quiet, but his presence is soothing enough to make up for it. He’ll offer support in any way that he can, while also slowly encouraging you to get up and about in a way that’s so subtle that it ends up feeling like your own idea. He won’t force you or anything, but just offer little suggestions, or place things just a little out of your reach to encourage you to get up. He’s so so patient and sweet that you can’t even be cross with him for being so sneaky.

Neuvillette frets. He’s an extremely busy man, and he’s got no idea in the slightest about what to do when you suddenly become listless and not willing to leave your bed. This kind of behaviour simply isn’t in his wheelhouse at all. He’ll quickly start to prattle on about bringing doctors over and trying to help you in the most immediate way possible because he thinks you’ve contracted some illness or other. It takes someone else pointing out that you’re just sad or overwhelmed with life as a whole for it to finally click for Neuvillette. Sadness is absolutely in his wheelhouse, that’s just about where he lives at this point. Once he’s come to that realisation, he’s kind and sweet and patient, and will do his very best to try and cheer you up. He brings you bouquets of flowers and soft, pretty trinkets to brighten up your room a little more so that it doesn’t feel so lonely when he’s gone, and will tentatively try to coax you into leaving the house with various kinds of bribes. The Melusine will also quickly catch on to his preoccupation, and then by extension, you soon have an army of ocean-dwelling critters at your beck and call, trying their very best to help in any and every way that they can.

Thoma, bless his heart, tries his very best. It’s not something he can empathise with very much, but he quickly settles into the same routine that he does when you’re unwell, showering you in love and praise and various foodstuffs that he knows you like. He spoils you absolutely rotten, making sure there’s next to nothing that you have to do for yourself if he’s able to do it for you. He’ll chatter away to you as he mills about your room in his downtime, trying to boost your mood by recalling good times you’ve had together, or funny stories about things that have happened to him. He’s just a huge sweetheart overall and works so hard to make sure you’re comfortable and content, even if you’re not happy for whatever reason. He kind of gets stuck in his own head worrying about what (if anything) made you feel so down, but he won’t let it show in front of you, barring the few times when he might just directly ask you if there’s something going on that he doesn’t know about, if there’s anything at all he can help you with. He’s pretty heavy on the encouragement for you to get out of bed, insisting that being outside will help, but he won’t force you into it if you push back at all.

Yae Miko sort of teases at first in her signature, light-hearted way. She’ll poke and prod and try to rile you up by saying things that are not exactly kind to and about you, but it doesn’t take her long to realise that there’s something actually amiss. Once it finally clicks, she’ll go quiet and just ponder things for a bit before sighing dramatically and saying that she ‘supposes she could help’. Despite the teasing tone she puts on, she’s a very soothing presence to be around. She’ll move her editing setup to your room to keep you company, and have various subordinates bring you both plenty of delicious snacks to eat. Though she tries to mask it, it’s pretty obvious that she’s acting a little bit softer at this point in time, just to help keep you comfortable and happy. If you catch her at a particularly tender moment, she may just allow you to pet her ears or even her tails as she reads out the newest manuscript she’s received and asks for your opinions. She’s not exactly putting you to work, per se, but while you’re not predisposed, she will take advantage of your presence to help critique the various pieces of writing that come across her desk.

Please don't repost, steal, copy or otherwise plagiarise my writing! I do not consent for my works to be translated and posted elsewhere, or copy - pasted into bot or AI technology.

[siriusremusblack]

Uh, welcome to my TED Talk I guess?

Imagine this. From a young age, ever since you can remember, your father was abusive and neglectful. Your mother also neglectful but is a bit more caring. At the age of nine you meet someone that is similar to you in one way or another and you become friends. That person is the only one that can bring you any semblance of love, appreciation, kindness and happiness- that you as a small child need. You know at age eleven you will finally be able to get away from your abusive household because of a wizarding school that is similar to a boarding school. You know of it from old books your mother owned, hearing about it from her and some others, and usually is a topic in your parents fights.. you think you will finally have some peace from the abuse, a safe space where you can just exist normally like any other person there.

But… then you meet the rich, popular, pureblood, well known kid and their friends. They immediately start hating on you for simply wanting to be in a specific house.. and the next thing you know. Your sanctuary you would’ve had for seven years has been turned into another hell for you.

The staff and other students don’t care for your situation. Even your best friend you’ve known since you were nine seems to be drifting closer to your tormentors and farther away from you. Then when you’re in a highly stressful situation (being SAed in front of everyone) you say a slur referring to your best friend (which also applies to yourself) you feel horrible, and you apologize. Yet, your friend asks you to leave them alone for good and you do. You have lost the only person that has ever cared about you.

So, you join a group that promises you affection, power, authority, care, etc. You feel accepted for once, like you belong. Then, that group puts your former best friend and her family in danger, so you ask the big boss to spare your friend as the target was her child so you couldn’t ask to spare the kid and the husband was your main tormentor.. so you only asked him to spare your ex best friend. But you’re worried he won’t keep his word because you’ve seen first hand how he is like.

So you go back to one person you’ve met, that you know likes them. Even though they’ve never shown you any concern or cared for what happened to you. You seek them out for help. You ask them to save your friend, then to save their family. Including your tormentor. You practically sell yourself to the man to have this done. Yet. Your friend still dies, only her child survived and you’re tasked with protecting him subtly when he goes to the school as a first year, much later and on top of that you’re to be a double agent, spy and a professor with many many tasks and responsibilities in the very same school you were traumatized and abused. With the very same people who ignored your needs, your trauma and your pain in favor of your abusers.

The kid you’re tasked to protect from year 1 to year 7 is almost an exact carbon copy of your tormentor look wise. Which is a huge trigger. Not only that but they have the eyes of your former best friend. Those eye they use to stare at you with contempt from day one because they automatically assume upon seeing you, that you’re bad and out to get them. When you’re not. Those eyes you see everyday on the carbon copy of your tormentor triggers you, it brings you unimaginable emotional pain you can’t express or explain to anyone. You still have no one.

Not only that, but you’re autistic. You’re misunderstood and have been for your entire life. You don’t know what genuine affection is and you base your actions on how those around you act because those are your role models. Your role models are witty, sassy and sarcastic. They have obvious bias and favoritism towards their own houses and students. They ignore what they want. You act like them. You copy them but yet, you’re still hated while they’re adored by everyone, because you’re favorites aren’t the same as theirs…

Everyone is upset that you’re too “bitter” and “petty” and too sarcastic and sharp tongued. When really you’re an autistic wizard who has been traumatized and vilified all your life with little to know support. You’re seen as petty because you couldn’t get over something that happened years ago, even though it was so traumatic it will always affect you and you have no support system to get the help you need. You’re seen as bitter for being prickly around others and careful about who you get close to, even though you’re surrounded by people who never cared for you constantly seeing triggers wherever you look.

How can you be nice when everyone around you doesn’t seem to be? How can you be nice when you never been on the receiving end of someone genuinely being nice? How can you be nice when you’re in constant stress over multiple taxing jobs? How can you be nice when you’re triggered everyday by constant reminders of your trauma? How are you expected to open up and be nice, caring, happy when you’re silently struggling with immense pain because the people around you never cared to help you? How can you be expected to act in a way when you were never taught or shown how to do so? When all your life you’ve been abused and neglected and unappreciated? You can’t be.

Those with support systems can improve if they want to. They can manage the symptoms of their trauma. But without a support system it is extremely difficult almost impossible to improve and heal. How can you expect someone to be a happy go lucky person when all their life they were beaten down and abused by everyone around them? Trauma affects people throughout their entire lives. Without the proper support and care a person cannot properly heal. It is the same for physical wounds, if you don’t get the proper treatment for it, it won’t properly heal. If it doesn’t properly heal it can and will hurt you more later on. You cant expect someone who was hit by a car and paralyzed to be a track star racer. The same applies to someone who has gone through so much abuse and hate and trauma, you can’t expect them to be this loving, happy, extroverted person.

[mattyriddlegf]

The Stupid Closet (23)*

Happy Sunday release day everyone!

Just a reminder that chapters marked with * contain NSFW content! Read with discretion.

Enjoy!

-----------

The next morning you wake up early and sit in your window sill reading silently. After a while, Pansy gets up and starts to get ready for the quidditch match.

“Aren’t you going to get ready?” She asks.

“Oh…I don’t think I’m gonna go today.” You say, putting your book down.

“Ok well I can already tell you who else won’t be going…” she throws her hair up before continuing, “you two need to talk.”

“I know…” you say quietly. You were scared to talk to Mattheo. Scared of what it meant for the two of you. You guys hadn’t gotten in a fight yet at all and you blurted out something you shouldn’t have. You had no idea what this was going to lead to.

Pansy leaves the dorm shortly after that, leaving you alone. You change into leggings but keep on the shirt you wore to bed…Mattheo’s shirt.

You had to stare at yourself in the mirror for 10 minutes before finally deciding to leave and go talk to him. You had to get it over with.

You walk over to his dorm, thinking about turning around with every step. When you finally reach his door, you lightly knock. There’s no answer so you open the door slowly.

“Matty?” You ask as you open the door. The room is empty with the lights off. He wasn’t here.

You close the door and leave the slytherin house, walking outside. You knew where he was. You find him on the bench, your bench drawing in his sketchbook.

You walk up beside him and sit down, him not acknowledging you.

“Matty…” you say quietly, your arms crossed because of the cold.

He doesn’t respond at all, continuing to sketch.

“I’m sorry for what I said. I didn’t mean it, I was just so mad.” You say softly, you felt like you were skating on thin ice.

Mattheo’s pencil stops moving, “I don’t want to be like them.”

“Hey, look at me.” You cup his face, making him turn to look at you, “You are not your parents. Do you hear me? You are not them.” 

You can tell his eyes are a little glossed over but he’s trying to hold it back.

“Mattheo I love you so, so much. Never in a million years could I think that you’ll become them, not for a second. You’re too good.” You hug him tightly, him reciprocating. His sketchbook and pencil fall to the ground but neither of you care.

After a minute, you back away. The silence hangs in the air for a few minutes before you remember his things had fallen. You bend over to pick his book and pencil off of the floor, “you look good in my shirt baby” 

“Ok now you’re trying to get in my pants” you laugh, setting the book down as he pulls you in and kisses you.

“I can’t help it, my girlfriends hot” he smiles as he continues to kiss you.

“Oh mi amor, you make my heart flutter” you whisper back.

He backs away, standing up and holding his hand out to lift you up.

“What?” You laugh.

“Don’t think you can say that and not get fucked into the next century” Mattheo says, your eyes widening.

“Mattheo!” You laugh, he was so horny but somehow you weren’t surprised.

“Oh don’t go shy on me now.”

You stand up, taking his hand, “ok fine, let’s go lover boy”

He grabs his book and you both practically run back to his dorm. As soon as you shut and lock the door behind you, you’re both ripping off clothes, desperately trying to touch each other sooner.

“I need you” you breath in between kisses, “right now” 

You help him unbuckle his pants and pull them down as he finishes unbuttoning his shirt. 

As he kisses you roughly, he pushes you back onto the bed. You prop yourself up on your elbows as he puts on the condom.

He climbs on top of you, dropping down and kissing your neck, leaving hickies for sure.

Your hands explore his back, scratching at him, desperate for more, “Matty please”

“Ok baby” he lifts himself up off of you and lines himself up with you before slowly inserting himself, “still so tight for me”

He was…big. And you knew that but with the last few weeks being so busy, it had been a while.

You arch your back, your hair definitely getting tangled against the pillow. You reach for the sheets around you, desperate to grab onto anything.

“Ohhh” you close your eyes, feeling too much all at once.

“No, open your eyes” he breathes out as he pumps in and out at a slow but solid pace.

You open them, staring at himself with your mouth slightly agape, “you’re insane” you could barely get out.

He continues his strokes, quickening his pace.

“Fuck” he says, feeling you soaking wet around him.

You start to play with your nipples as you throw your head back, mattheo finding your g-spot.

He rests one of his hands on your stomach, the other holding up one of your legs.

“Matty I’m almost there” you breathe out, making sure to watch him the entire time.

“Cum for me baby” he whispers right before you reach your high.

He continues pumping in and out as you take deep breaths, finding it hard to see anything but stars.

Only a few moments later does he fill the condom with his own orgasm, pulling out of you. You stay lying there, still trying to catch your breath and touch back down to reality.

Mattheo wipes you off before laying on the bed next to you. You turn your head to him, “make up sex is the best actually”

“Oh for sure” he agrees before you lean in and kiss him, this time soft and tender.

You take Mattheo’s hand in yours and hold your arms up, staring at his veins showing.

“What?” He asks.

“Nothing…” you laugh.

“No, I see you staring” Mattheo calls you out.

You drop your hands, still keeping yours intertwined with his, “so what? I just find your arms attractive”

“What don’t you find attractive about me?” He asks. You weren’t sure if he was being serious.

“Well for starters, your horniness. I just can’t keep you off me” you laugh, joking.

“you’re such a brat” Mattheo watches you, smiling as you play with your hands, not looking at him.

“Yeah maybe but I’m your brat” you smile, looking back at him finally.

“Absolutely you are,'' you two stare into each other's eyes for a moment.

“Alright, I’ll be right back” you say trying to get up but Mattheo doesn’t let go of your hand, “just give me 2 minutes” you laugh. You lean in and kiss him before he lets go.

You grab your clothes and walk into the bathroom, coming out dressed a few minutes later. Mattheo has put shorts and a t-shirt on and was laying back down waiting for you.

“See I told you” you say as you climb back onto the bed and lie down, resting your head on his chest.

“Did Pansy tell you what happened last night?” Mattheo asks you, his hand resting on your arm.

“No, what happened?” You ask.

“Theo finally hooked up with someone” 

“Oh?” He hadn’t been with anyone since you. It didn’t even feel awkward to talk about it since you were with Mattheo now but it was a bit of a shock.

“Oh yeah. I saw them myself. When I came down from the astronomy tower last night, I almost walked in on them. Luckily, the girl was not quiet, whoever she was.” Mattheo laughs.

“Are you serious?!” You turn and look up at Mattheo in shock.

“Dead serious. I left so quick” Mattheo responds, nodding his head.

“Wow, good for Theo” you say, resting your head on his chest again, “can I tell you something?”

“Sure, what’s up?”

“So after you walked in on him and I last year…” you pause as mattheo takes a deep breath, “ I didn’t finish so I went back to my dorm and…”

“You did not…” he says, smirking. You sit up and look back at him.

“I pictured you as I masterbated.” You finish. You cover your eyes with your hands, “oh it’s so embarrassing”

“If by embarrassing, you mean incredibly hot then yes it is” he sits up as well.

“I never told Theo obviously because I never intended to do it again but then over the summer…I did it again”

“Good to know I was in your thoughts” he smirks, obviously satisfied with himself. “You know I wonder if I was in that girl's thoughts last night, obviously Theo doesn’t get the job done…” he trails off, still teasing.

“Okay, well if you’re just gonna tease…” you pretend to start getting up but Mattheo grabs your arms and pulls you back into him, kissing you.

“No you don’t pretty girl,” he says in between kisses.

Taglist: @helendeath @mayamonroem @hatakemrs @iamdnb @cindyss @swamp-box @schaebickel @princessluvssleep @feistyfox47 @malydiavsss

[joehawke]

idk why this just popped into my head, but thinking about Steve who’s actually insanely smart, he always got straight A’s in school and the whole “dumb jock” was just a stereotype that Steve got stuck under and just never tried to prove wrong. Who cared whether or not he was actually smart? So he just played along. (Besides, it was an in to flirt with the girls; to pretend like he didn’t know what he was doing.) His parents had him tutored since he was old enough to count on his fingers, and sure it was exhausting, but it was something he was good at. Math, reading, science, it all came easy to him. He liked being able to impress the people around him. When he got involved with the upside down, the one thing that didn’t crumble around him was his studies. He was determined to make his parents proud. When it was time to send out all his college applications, his parents hadn’t returned home in months and by the time he heard back from the schools the upside down was worse than it’s ever been and it just wasn’t a concern anymore. So Steve stuffed the enveloped futures away. He had completely forgot about them. Until now.

It’s been a month since Hawkins cracked open. Max and Eddie both have been discharged from the hospital, on strict rehabilitation protocols. Because Wayne still had to work despite the government hush money, Steve decided it was best for Eddie to stay with him. Besides, the house is quiet and lonely, why not put it to good use? Steve had been downstairs frying eggs on a pan when Eddie came bounding around the corner clutching a stack of opened envelopes. He looked confused.

“What’s wrong Eds? What are those?” Steve asked, and when Eddie started rifling through the envelopes Steve caught the slightest sight of his school symbols. His heart dropped. “Eddie it’s not -“

“Harvard, Princeton, Yale, Columbia -“ Eddie starts naming off as he rifles through each envelope.

“Eddie.”

“You got into them all Steve. There’s like 10 different top notch schools here that you got into. Why has no one heard about this? And why are they stuffed in a drawer?”

“Because I’m not going” Steve says simply, like it was the easiest decision to make.

“What? What the fuck do you mean you’re not going?” Eddie asks appalled. And Steve gets why, he does, but he’s also determined to stand his ground.

“Why does it matter? I’m not going” Steve pouts, crossing his arms.

“Stevie. Did your parents pay for you to get in or something? Did they use the Harrington name you hate so much? There’s gotta be a reason you won’t go besides just being a stubborn asshole” and Steve gets why he‘a asking, and he’s never been hurt by it, but part of Steve flinches at the fact that Eddie couldn’t believe that Steve got in on his own account.

“No. It doesn’t matter, can we just drop it?”

“No. No we can’t. Do you know how badly I would KILL to get into any school, let alone an IVY. This is incredible Steve.” Eddie states, padding closer into the kitchen and Steve has to hold back a laugh at his rabbit slippers.

“I can’t go” Steve says quietly, turning away from Eddie and back to the stove where the eggs are starting to burn.

“Why though? Can you tell me that much?” Eddie asks, matching Steve’s soft tone.

“Because I have to be here. I have to be here incase Vecna isn’t really gone. Incase the kids need me. Incase Robin needs me. I can’t just leave…” Steve says, turning back towards Eddie to look at him before turning back towards the burnt eggs.

“Stevie. They’ll be fine. When are you gonna put yourself first sweetheart? I need a valid reason why you’re staying and I’ll drop it, because these aren’t -“

“Because you’re here!” Steve yells, turning back towards Eddie. Steve watches as Eddie’s lips part ever so slightly as his breath hitches before he continues. “When I got accepted into those schools the people who I did that for weren’t here anymore and fucking Henry Creel apparently was more prominent than ever, and the kids needed someone to take a hit and someone to protect them and Robin was here and she was the first person to care about me and what would that say about me if I left? And eventually those stupid schools were the furthest thing from my mind and then I thought about maybe going, maybe getting away from this hell… you came along and I couldn’t. I couldn’t leave you Eddie. With the regards of sounding cheesy, you carved a spot into my heart along side those bat bites and how was I supposed to just let you go after that?” Steve’s out of breath, and tears are starting to gather at his waterline, but he doesn’t care because Eddie is looking at him like he hung the sun and the moon and the stars and he remembers why he stays. And when Eddie’s lips collide with his own, he thinks he found home.

“We’re not done talking about this” Eddie says, and Steve chuckles as Eddie dives back in.

[anonymityisfunwriter]

Question...? Act II - “Good girl, sad boy, big city, wrong choices…”

Pairing - Steve Rogers x Reader Summary - After years of back and forth, years of unknowns, a lifetime of questions, it's time for answers.

Question...? Mini Series List | Steve Rogers Masterlist

15 Years Earlier... 

You pick at the grass in front of you, plucking each blade with the utmost precision. “Can I ask you a question?”

Steve watches on as you pick at the grass, content to watch you in the warm glow of the sunset, “Yeah.”

You can’t bring yourself to look at him as the question leaves your mouth in a timid tone you’ve never taken with Steve. “Have you had your first kiss yet?”

A fierce blush paints Steve’s face. It's his turn to stare at the grass. He rakes his fingers through the blades of grass, refusing to look you in the eye. “No… have you?”

You shake your head, finally finding the courage to sneak a glance at him. You pluck blade of grass after blade of grass leaving a small bald spot in Steve’s backyard. “No.”

He clears his throat. “Why?”

“Bucky said he had his first kiss.”

Steve snorts, rolling his eyes, “I know. He won’t shut up about it.” 

“I guess I didn’t know that guys stopped thinking girls were gross,” you lightly joke, finally able to look up from the grass and up at your best friend. “When did that happen?”

He stares at you as the question falls from your lips. You look at him and see the same bright blue eyes you’ve seen every day since your family moved into the house beside his. 

Your best friend. The boy you’d known since your world was one block wide. Those same eyes, and yet, it felt different.

You'd heard the warning dozens of times. From your parents. From your teachers. You and Steve were at an age where things started to change. From one day to the next, the girls in your class went from talking about how they hated boys to hushed whispers about who was going to take them to the next school dance.

Your mom somewhat unsubtly hinted that you and Steve might someday be more than just friends. You were so throughly warned, and yet you'd never felt more throughly blindsided. Feelings flooded the pit of your stomach without a warning. The boy you'd known since you were five, he suddenly seemed... different.

It was the sort of different that you didn't have the words for. All you had to go off of was the fluttering sensation in the pit of your stomach that erupted whenever he smiled at you. 

“I didn’t think you were gross,” Steve offers. 

“Only because we were the only kids on our street,” you retort. “You’d have been all alone without me.” 

It was true. Both Steve's and your mom had no qualms about forcing you to play together in your backyards. As an only child, your mom constantly worried about you not being around kids your own age. And with the way Steve was picked on as the neighborhood playground, his mom was certain he was destined for a lonely childhood. Until you came along. 

“I would’ve had Bucky,” Steve counters.  

“Bucky lives on a different street. You didn't meet him until school.” 

“I’m not worried about getting my first kiss.” 

Your gaze snaps back to him, brows furrowed as you try to figure out who Steve had planned for his first kiss. “Really? Why?”

“Are you kidding?” Steve bitterly chuckles. Though you didn't see it, you knew what he was talking about. You heard it in the mean, borderline cruel, verbal jabs some of the other kids at school liked to hurl at Steve. Even now, he was small, more frail than most, if not all, of the boys in your class. He still struggled with his asthma. He was shy and a little dorky. You knew what people thought about him. But he was, and you were sure always would be, your best friend, your Steve. He rolls his eyes at you like all of those perceived flaws should be as obvious to you as they are to him. “Have you looked at me? I’ll be lucky if I get kissed before I graduate high school.”

“I’d kiss you.” 

Steve’s eyes widen, blown so far out of proportion that it looks almost cartoonish. You'd probably find the look on his face funny if you weren't so thoroughly mortified. “What?”

“I’m not - I mean - I’m just saying, if we get to our high school graduation and you haven’t been kissed, I’d kiss you.” 

He groans, tossing his head back, “Great, I’ll have to wait another five years for a pity kiss.” 

“It’s not a pity kiss if I want to kiss you.” 

His eyebrows pull in as his brain works overtime trying to piece together exactly what you're telling him. “So you want to kiss me?”

“Do you want to kiss me?” you challenge. 

“I asked you first.” 

You shrug your shoulders, trying to seem as casual as your racing heart will allow you to, “Like I said, I’d kiss you.” 

“I’d kiss you too.”

“Steve?” 

“Yeah?” 

You don’t allow yourself to think about what you’re doing. You lean forward as far as you can with your crossed legs. He gasps as your lips gently graze his. The soft breath dances across your lips. 

Just as you’re about to pull away, he closes the rest of the gap, firmly molding his lips to yours. Once. Twice. His hand slowly slides closer to yours. He fumbles forward, resting his hand on yours.

He gulps, wheezing slightly as he pulls away, “That - that was nice.” 

The sound of blood rushing roars in your ears. All you can bring yourself to focus on is the intense flush of his cheeks. And ‘nice’. You’re not sure you’ll ever un-hear how the word fell from his lips. 

Nice. 

Nice. 

Nice?

“Nice?”

“Yeah, it - it was nice.” 

In that moment, it occurs to him that there were probably a million and one better things to say, a million and one better words to describe a kiss other than ‘nice’. 

Your face warms as you feel embarrassment floods your system. “I should go. My mom's probably waiting for me.” 

He doesn't get a word out before you stand up and run out of his backyard. 

Your face flames as you run the dozen or so yards back to your front yard. You burst through the front door as quickly as you can. You don't waste a single moment as you race up the stairs and to your room, praying your parents didn't bear witness to your storm of emotions. 

You slump down on the edge of your bed. Your mind races. He said it was nice.

Nice wasn't bad, but you were sure it wasn't good either.

You would normally go to Steve about this kind of thing, but that was clearly out of the question.

You definitely couldn't tell Bucky about this.

You don’t know what any of it meant - if it even meant anything. 

And you certainly didn’t know that this would be the moment everything had changed.

Question...? Mini Series List Inspired By Taylor Swift Steve Rogers Masterlist

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[multifariousqueer]

hi hi, How about 42 Miles x reader who's finally had enough, see's the way he's been isolating her and pushing off or shoving off her friends, and beacuse she knows what he's capble of she runs off from her parents house to crash at a friends with a plan to get the hell out of new yourk, she blocked all contact, stopped getting money from him and in hiding!

Sorry thats a bit much.

Hey love! Imma do this hc style bc why not 🤷🏽‍♀️

Warnings: toxic, implied smut, kidnapping, MILES BEING A TOXIC ASSHOLE, OMG THIS IS NOT ROMANTIC, yandere behavior

Miles!42 x done!reader

he can tell you’re about to treat but he hangs onto the promise you made to stick by him through thick and thin

Your friends and family hate him and they don’t speak to you anymore because of your antics and your soft spot for him

“Y/n hes a horrible person and he’s gonna get you killed or worse” “no he wouldn’t, he would never do that to me, Miles loves me and you can’t see that because you have always hated him” “Y/n we hate him because HES TAKING YOU FROM US. HES DOING THIS ON PURPOSE AND HE KNOWS THAT” “JUST LEAVE ME ALONE"

They did exactly that.

You cried to Miles who just petted your head and said

“It won’t matter, Mi Corazon. They’re just jealous, you have me and thats all you need, okay mi amor” “si papi"

That’s all you would say to him

You felt yourself slowly losing your sense of identity. You didn’t even recognize yourself, he completely removed the old parts of you that were independent and replaced them with someone new. He stripped you and rebuilt you into his toy

He tried to make up for this by buying you things and making love to you

Eventually, you had everything you ever wanted and then some but it wasn’t the same

You find out he’s the prowler and thats where he gets the money to get you stuff but you just don’t care anymore

“So, ma? como de sientas?” “it’s fine, Miles. I don’t care. Just don’t get hurt” “that’s all?” “...yeah."

He wanted to say something else but he bit his tongue

For a while, he thought someone was influencing you to break up with him so he followed you around; he went to your favorite stores, your classes, your job and just stalked you

Secretly put an AirTag on your bag

Your family moved to (insert state here) and you were tempted to go with them but you knew Miles wouldn’t let you

He managed to convince you that they didn’t love you anymore

“Mi amor, if they truly loved you, they wouldn’t have left so easily and they would’ve tried to reach out"

They tried but Miles managed to connect your phone to his so he could see any texts or calls you got, he deleted their messages and declined their calls

You decide enough is enough and you leave

After a heated argument, you packed your shit and left. Miles was pissed

“Where the fuck do you think you’re going?” “I don’t know, hopefully somewhere better than here”

he would beg and plead and when that wouldn’t work, he would gaslight the fuck out of you

“Fine. Leave. I could have another bitch like you by the morning. Also, your family probably doesn’t even wanna see you fr so ill see you in three days” “okay”

He would grab you and try to make you stay by staring at you and reminding you of your previous promises

“What happened to forever, mami? Was that just pillow talk?” “what happened to I only want the best for you?"

Is convinced he was only doing what was best for you.

When you left New York, you smiled for the first time in months, enjoying the new scenery and scent

you changed your hair, clothes, makeup, phone and number and got rid of anything that reminded you of Miles

You slowly rebuilt your relationship with your family and were genuinely happy for the first time in a while

One night, you were outside going for a walk when you felt a strong pair of arms around you

You tried to scream but it was muffled

You felt a stabbing sensation in your neck and everything faded to black

“you thought you could escape me?"

[3d-wifey]

And They'd Find Us in A Week - Chapter 12

Pairing: Finnick Odair x Reader Word Count: 8.4k Synopsis: Here! Playlist: Listen up! Tag list: - @melancholicmelanin, @yvy1s, @glomp-me, @honethatty12, @swftlore, @hashcakes, @antoheartit, @finnickodaddy, @lilifl0wer, @antoheartit, @kermitcrimess, @persophonekarter, @aawdrea, @obaewankenobis, @xyxlyn, @meandurdaughtergotaspecialthing, @innercreationflower, @kisskittenn Chapter Summary: There's a certain kind of pain in reading or watching something from the perspective of a character who doesn't know about the tragedy ahead of them. It's like watching a scary movie and going, "No, don't go to sleep! He's behind the door!" Like in The Song of Achilles, we all know how the original story ends. We know how the actual prophecy plays out. We know that the moment Patroclus's heart stops, Hector and Achilles fates are set in stone. You wince whenever Achilles says he has no reason to kill Hector because "What has Hector done to me?" You want to tell him that Hector will do the unforgivable to him. You want to tell Patroclus not to go on the field. Tell Achilles to get his damned head out of his ass as he disguises Patroclus as himself because he is at risk of losing something far more important than his pride. You hold your breath as Patroclus is speared in the back and as Achilles realizes the consequences of his actions. You knew it was coming, and yet, you still read the story because a part of you hoped. You hoped for the hopeless. All this to say that knowing and still having hope regardless is crueler than complete ignorance. A/N: I imagined your stylist as Anne Hathaway in Alice in Wonderland.

Past (xiii) - You [22 & 23] - THE CAPITOL

If you were from any other district, maybe it would have surprised you how attached Rue is to you. But the sense of community in Eleven breeds this need for kinship. You’re social creatures; you’re not meant to be on your own. Certainly not in a place like the Capitol. It’s how you end up hugging your knees to your chest, an unnamed ocean projected on your wall as you try to get lost in the tides the night before the tributes will be marched into the arena.

No one talks about this part, or maybe they just don’t want to think about it. The part where being forced back into the room you slept in during your own Games eats at you—that anxiety that courses through your veins and leaves your body thrumming. Because no matter what you tell yourself, your body isn’t entirely convinced that you won’t be the one entering the arena tomorrow. You close your eyes and suddenly you’re fifteen again, gripping the sheets so hard you could tear holes in them as you fight the vomit threatening to ride the wave of acid reflux.

Sleeping beside Finnick helped. He reminded you that you weren’t fifteen and alone and wishing you’d die in your sleep so you wouldn’t be slaughtered live. And now? Well, at least there’ll always be the ocean.

There’s a knock on your door, so tentative that you would have missed it if you weren’t already so keyed up.

You pause the projection of the ocean, assuming the sound woke someone up. You get up and go to open it, only to see Rue. Suddenly you’re shamefaced and embarrassed, like you’ve been caught doing something pathetic, even though it’s doubtful she even knows what the sound was, let alone the significance of you listening to it.

“I’m sorry, honey. Was I being too loud?”

“No.” She shakes her head, shifting from foot to foot. “Um, I couldn’t sleep. And I just—I saw that your light was on and thought maybe you couldn’t sleep either?”

That may be true, but you don’t think it’s the only reason. Rue is the oldest of six and they all live in Shacktown. With all those people in one house, you’re sure Rue’s never slept alone a day in her life. It makes you wonder how she managed these past few days.

You’re an only child; your dad was killed before your parents could have any more, so you can’t say for certain that you understand what she feels. Yet, you reminisce on the fact that you’ve never really gone through a year of mentoring without Finnick being within arm’s reach.

She stares up at you with those big, pleading puppy-dog eyes, and you twist your mouth to the side.

“C’mon.” You move so you aren’t blocking the entrance anymore and you nod your head towards your room. “How ‘bout you sleep in here with me tonight? You don’t have to, of course, but we might as well stay up together.”

You know you’ve made the right choice when she grins big, rushes in, and takes a running start to jump on your bed. You shake your head fondly as she scurries to get under the blanket, lying down with them pulled under her arms and getting comfortable like she belongs there. The door slides shut behind you and you twist the dimmer until the only light comes from the projector. You settle into your bed beside Rue andyou snort at how she keeps smiling at you.

“So… What were you watching?”

“Uh.” You pick the remote up to unmute the device and the sound of crashing ocean waves fills any remaining silence. “The ocean.”

She looks over, seemingly transfixed by the drag and pull of the water. The nearest ocean to Eleven is the one that rests just outside of the towering fence and only serves as a deterrent for escaping. This is her first time seeing one outside of a textbook. “Why?”

“Well, I,” you let out a weighted breath, "I thought it would make me feel better. Help me sleep.”

“Oh.” Says Rue and then she looks at you. “Why?”

You let out a surprised laugh. “Um. I guess the ocean reminds me of my friend and—I don’t know. It’s just easier to sleep with him around."

“Is he your crush?” Crush? Such an innocent question feels surprisingly weighted considering your current relationship with Finnick. Or lack thereof. Is it a crush now that it’s unrequited?

“I love him.” You tell the wall and it’s the sad truth. You still do. You wouldn’t be so hung up if you didn’t.

"Whoa. You like like him.” Like like. It’s been years since you heard that. It brings to mind how young she is. It’s not as if you needed another reminder. “It’s okay, I won’t tell. I like someone too.”

“Oh? And what’s his name?” You smile. You both flip over to face each other. You picture little you and little Sage, shyly holding hands during downtime, and find yourself hoping this boy liked Rue back.

“You can’t tell anyone.” She narrows her eyes and makes you swear, which you do with a pinky promise. “Coriander.” Her voice goes all quiet and timid as she hides her face and you wonder if you’ve ever seen anything cuter.

“Ah, I think I might know him.” She looks at you with wide eyes as you tease her, peering out from between her fingers.

“Nuh-uh, no way.” She denies it as you tap a finger on your chin and pretend to think about it.

“No, no. I think I do. He’s got pink hair, no teeth, and walks with a waddle, right?”

“No! ” She giggles and you can’t help but giggle along with her. You take a moment.

“Finnick. The boy I like.” You provide when she looks confused. “His name is Finnick.”

“Oh, oh! Is he that boy from Four? The victor?” It’s hardly shocking that she recognizes him. He’s one of ‘the greats’. You nod and she gasps like that’s the juiciest piece of gossip she’s ever heard.

“He’s pretty.” She whispers.

“He is.” You laugh.

“Is he nice?”

“The nicest,” you say without thought or contempt. Finnick’s indeed been nothing but kind to you since you’ve met him, current behavior not included. You find that even when you’re mad at him, you can’t disparage him. And you don’t want to lie to Rue. “He made me this." You lift your wrist and show her your bracelet. You’ve been wearing it around your ankle while you’re out in public, but when you’re on your own, it goes back to its rightful place.

“Cori made something for me too.”

She pulls her necklace up for you to see. It’s woven grass attached to a wooden charm shaped like a flower—you squint—or maybe a star? Definitely the handiwork of a child. Adorable. It reminds you of Cane.

“Your token?”

“Yep. He gave it to me when everyone came to see me off after I was reaped. He ran all the way home and back to give it to me. He almost didn’t get back in time, but I waited for him. I knew he’d come, and that’s why it’s good luck.”

“Makes sense.” You nod and she nods with you, like she’s happy that you get her logic. “He must like you a lot to go through all that.”

“Yeah. He’s sweet.” She smiles, fidgeting with the charm.

“I bet he is.” You push some of her curls out of her face. Just two doomed girls talking about their equally doomed crushes.

It’s silent for a moment; ocean noises make your eyes feel heavier with the pull of each tide. You watch as the shadows cast from the projector paint the ceiling in a series of swirling blues. You think you can see Finnick’s favorite color hidden amongst the other shades.

“Were you scared? When you went into the arena?” Rue asks and you still can’t find it in yourself to lie to her.

“Terrified.”

“Really? You’re so brave though?” She sounds so genuinely confused that you have to hold back your laughter. You don’t want her to think you're making fun of her. You appreciate the vote of confidence. It’s more than you have in yourself.

“I think…being brave means doing something even if you are terrified.” You look away from the ceiling to make eye contact. “It’s okay to be scared, Rue. You know that, right?”

“Yeah, I know.” She mumbles like she doesn’t actually believe it.

“I think you’re incredibly brave.” You know she regularly went foraging for food for her siblings, and she took on more hours than what was required of her. Who knows how many times she’s entered her name for Tesserae?

And she’s still so young.

“Really?”

“Oh, definitely.” You laugh at her skepticism. You’ve laughed more with Rue in the short time you’ve had with her than in the last two years combined. Sadly, there hasn’t been much of a reason for you to. Realizing that this is the last night you two will laugh together is devastating. “I was fifteen and I felt like I was on the edge of breaking down the entire time. How are you so calm?” She’s only twelve years old—not even a teenager. If you were in her shoes, you’d have dehydrated yourself from how much you were crying.

“I am scared, but…" She drags out the ‘uh’, then shrugs. “I don’t know. I guess it doesn’t feel real.”

“Hmm. I get that.” You don’t tell her that it won’t start feeling real until she either wins or dies. It’ll only make her feel worse. She closes her eyes and you two are quiet for a time—so long that you think she’s fallen asleep.

Her voice is small when she asks, “Can I hold your hand?”

“Of course.” You hold your right one out for her to take, and her little fingers lace with yours. Her palms are callused too. Not as much as yours. No, she’ll never have enough time to catch up to yours.

Rue moves closer to you and you wrap your left arm around her. You feel her say your name more than you hear it and you hum in response. “Thank you.”

You pull her closer to your chest, your linked hands resting between you. “Of course, sweetheart.” You say this into the crown of her head, wishing that you could have done more for her and Thresh—wishing you weren’t so helpless.

But you can do this. You can give her this last comfort, this last embrace from home. You hold her tight as you both fall asleep and you only let her go when they come to take her away in the morning.

You do not cry.

-

You miss him, you decide one day. You thought you hated him after you got through your self-pity, but the words "hate" and "Finnick" are too oxymoronic to ever stay together for long. You were so angry at yourself, angry at the world, but you sat with that anger long enough to know what it truly was. Grief. You miss him the way you'd miss a limb. You're so used to having it that you only remember it's gone when you notice the space it used to occupy and feel the phantom aches of what it used to be—what you used to have and took for granted.

Chaff has described in detail the pain of losing his hand. But, he said, nothing hurts worse than remembering it’s not there.

You've never taken Morphling and you don't know anyone personally who's gotten hooked on it, but you imagine this is what withdrawal feels like. You haven't seen him since before he sent that letter, and it feels like he's actively avoiding you. You said years ago, after Annie's Games, that you could handle just being his friend if he decided he didn’t want you anymore. But he never gave you the chance.

That’s alright. It’s perfectly fine. You know when you’re not wanted around, you can take a hint.

Maybe it's for the best. There’s no telling what you would do if you ran into him again. Something pathetic, probably, like begging him to take you back. There's a specific moment when you really feel your loss. A few days into the 74th Hunger Games. Chaff is finalizing the transaction with the money Eleven gathered to send bread for Rue and Thresh, so you’re on your own. 

“Your girl is something else.” You tell Haymitch from where you stand beside him, arms crossed, as you split your attention between him and the Games.

He cocks his head slightly, glancing at you out of the corner of his eye, then returns to watching Katniss and Rue rehearse their strategy. “I can say the same to you.” You hadn’t expected Rue to team up with anyone, but you can’t say you are surprised that it’s Katniss. The girl did volunteer for her little sister, after all. Primrose, was it? But you’re concerned that your little speech about being brave by doing things that terrify you may have swayed her to come out of hiding and help Katniss.

You can’t take full credit, though. Rue—well, she’s far too kind for her own good.

You look him over, a glass of something alcoholic in one hand while the other remains buried in his pocket. Honestly, you’ve never seen him this invested in the Games before, but you could hazard a guess why. You weren’t just blowing smoke up his ass about Katniss. She’s honestly got a pretty good shot of winning, if not making it to the top five. She’s already a fan favorite, along with Rue, Peeta, Glimmer, and Cato. She’s exceeded your expectations, along with Haymitch’s. No wonder he’s been networking his ass off. If she’s actually got a chance at surviving this, he owes it to her to try.

That’s when it happens.

Rue’s screams echo in your ears as Katniss races through the forest. Something has gone wrong—she's been captured or the Careers are using her as bait, or—you wipe your sweaty hands on your dress and then recross them, wanting more than anything to bite at the skin around your nails. You hold your breath, hoping beyond hope that she’s saved from whatever fate has befallen her.

She’s by herself in the clearing. Caught in a net, but not hurt. Katniss manages to get Rue out and your muscles begin to untense, but the relief is incredibly short-lived. 

Marvel, that cocky little boy from two, throws his spear with deadly precision, lance soaring past Katniss to pierce Rue in the abdomen.

Your hands are numb as they cover your mouth, but then you remember where you are and drop them just as quickly. She pulls the spear from her chest and you want to yell at her not to, that taking it out will only make her bleed quicker. Like it even matters at all when she’ll bleed out regardless. You think you need to sit down.

Katniss catches her before she falls. You’re lightheaded.

Katniss sings to her after she whispers something that the mics can’t pick up and it feels like your heart is being wrung dry. You think of Rue’s mother. You think of her six siblings, who all look up to her. You think of Coriander. You think of how small she felt in your arms and how tightly she held your hand. You think of a lot of things in the time it takes for her heart to stop beating.

The cannon fires and all eyes go to you. Ranging from curious to pitying. Some are even tearful. She was a fan favorite, after all. Mentors and Capitols alike split their attention between you and the screens to catch your reaction, but your face is deceptively blank. You stare ahead silently, your eyes unseeing as they remain on the screen.

You will not give them the pleasure of seeing you break down. Katniss will leave and Rue’s body will be airlifted out and that will be the end of it.

This is nothing new for you. You’ve gone through this twelve other times. Why would she be any different? She isn't. You tell that to your shaky hands and they only tremble further. You tell your heavy lungs and they only get heavier. You try telling your chilly skin, but all it does is make you feel colder. Why is she different?

You want to close your eyes as Katniss grieves. To be able to save one little girl but not another, it must weigh heavy.

“I’m so sorry." Someone comes to stand beside you, some Capitol elite. “One less chance for your district to win.” You look at him from the corner of your eye and Haymitch scoffs on your other side. For one stupid moment, you thought he was offering his condolences.

“Right. Well. There’s still Thresh.” He nods along to your words, thoughtfully, like you’re talking about the likelihood of a horse winning a race.

“Yes, he’s the big one, right? I have money riding on him or Cato winning.” Of course, he remembers his name and not Thresh’s. You close your eyes before they can roll out of your head. “I’d like to send him something to eat as a sponsor. I worry—what is she doing?” You open your eyes to see what tribute has captured his attention, only to see Katniss again. But she’s still with Rue, kneeling next to her body with an armful of flowers—

“She’s giving her a funeral.” You bite your bottom lip to keep it from trembling. Rue rests on a bed of flowers—white daisies and lavender. She tucks a bouquet of daisies in her little hands and you wonder if Katniss knows the significance that being surrounded by flowers has for your people. Or maybe that’s something your two districts have in common. All that’s missing is fruit and it would be a proper Eleven funeral.

A funeral for a little girl. Your heart grows heavy with that realization and your mouth curls into a scowl.

You shouldn’t think about how she clung to you before she was sent into the arena. You shouldn’t think of Coriander’s childish hope dying with her. You shouldn’t think about her family watching this. You shouldn’t think of how her mother woke up this morning with six children and will go to sleep with only five. You shouldn’t, you shouldn’t, you shouldn’t—

“Oh, how sweet.” The man coos.

“Yes.” Katniss faces the camera, kisses her three middle fingers, and salutes the cameras—salutes District Eleven. You don’t think of Coriander sprinting to the train clutching a grass-woven necklace with a good-luck charm that wasn’t very lucky. “Very sweet."

On instinct, you reach to the left for Finnick, but there's no hand to hold other than your own.

You need Finnick, and he isn’t here and for the first time since you've become a mentor, you have to brave the games by yourself and shoulder your grief alone. 

“Kid…” A flinch rolls through you at the unexpected voice, and you look to your left at Haymitch’s face as he goes through a range of emotions before settling on sympathy. No. Empathy. For a moment, you forgot he was beside you. But he hasn’t forgotten you. 

He does something that surprises you again. He places a big hand on the nape of your neck, warm and callused, and squeezes. You exhale sharply, your face twisting minutely, and it’s the closest thing to crying that you’ll allow yourself to do. He pulls you into his side, and it’s a battle not to burrow into him—a battle you lose. Your image will allow you to do this much. Allow you to be comforted while many of the other Capitols in the room do the same thing because it’s all very sad. You wrap your arms around his waist from where you’re held tight against his side and his hand goes down to rub your back soothingly.

No words are said between you two, and that’s enough. It has to be. Past (xiii) - Finnick 

[ 22 & 23] - DISTRICT FOUR Finnick has never felt worse.

The sky is clear, the stars are bright, and Finnick has never felt worse.

It’s a particularly quiet night on the beach. There’s no one walking along the shore, no bonfires, no night swimming. There’s only Finnick. 

He sits with his legs crossed under him; the coarse sand is warm against the exposed skin of his legs and feet. He’s always been able to come down to the beach to think and unload any weight on his shoulders. With how heavy his heart feels, he’s never needed that release more. A cool breeze carries the smell of the ocean, but it’s not as comforting as it should be. 

He reaches into the ornate box sitting between his thighs and just rests his hand there, letting his fingers ghost over the pages upon pages of parchment paper. He’s kept a tight lid on this box, hoarding your letters and your scent inside like a corvid. Even now, outside on the shore, your smell wafts around him—concentrated and stiff. He blinks past the tears in his eyes.

He doesn’t look inside; he doesn’t think he can handle it. To see the length of your relationship measured by words on paper, to know he’ll never be adding to this box again—it’s too much.

He pulls out a letter at random. 

His eyes have already readjusted to the darkness as he uses the moonlight to read. He traces the looping lines of your handwriting. 

This is the letter you sent along with that pretty picture of yourself in case he forgot what you look like. A beautiful sentiment, but largely unnecessary. Finnick knows your reflection as well as he knows his own, if not better. Even now, with all this space, time, and hurt between the two of you, he could draw your portrait blindfolded. Not that anything could ever live up to the real thing. Nothing can compare to you.

He sighs, twisting his bracelet around his wrist absently. He feels the cool grooves of the fish charm between his thumb and pointer finger as he looks at the stars. There are more stars than there are grains of sand. Each tiny, flickering dot is a blazing inferno, the likes of which he can hardly comprehend. They don’t shine nearly as brightly as you do in his memory. 

He just…he just wishes he could have told you that.

Unconsciously, his eyes fall on Cassiopeia. Punished for boasting about the beauty of her daughter. It’s not fair. Her only crime was loving her child, and for that, she was forced to give her up for the safety of her kingdom.

Sacrificing someone you love for the greater good. He can’t tell if he wants to scoff, scream, or cry. Maybe all three.

Are you looking at the same sky as him? Even now, are the two of you still connected? Is it cruel to hope for that? It has to be, but Finnick has found that he's grown rotten in his misery. Rotten and incredibly selfish. 

Over the past year, you’ve sent him letter after letter and he read each one with ravenous eyes—desperate for you in any way he could have you. You were angry, you were hurt, you were confused. You alternated between begging him and demanding him to reply. So he did. Of course, he did. He could never deny you anything.

He just never sent any of them.

He kept them stashed in a drawer, locked away so he didn’t have to look at them—wouldn’t have to look at his bleeding heart. It wasn’t healthy; he knows that, but still. He just wanted to pretend, just for a little while, that everything was back to normal. That he hadn’t ripped out his soul by tearing yours apart. 

Those letters had been a constant staple in his life for nearly seven years, and—he was going to wean himself off of it, off of you, really, he was. 

But he never got the chance to before they stopped coming a few months ago. They just stopped.

He should be happy about that. He should be pleased that you're moving on. He should be a lot of things that he's not, but, as it turns out, he’s getting pretty fucking sick of performing for an empty audience. You've given up on him, and you have every right to, but— 

God, it hurts.

It’s for the best. It’s what he wanted—no, it’s what he needed to happen for both of you. And it’s certainly better than the alternative Snow offered.

Knowing all that doesn’t make it hurt any less; it doesn’t make the pain any easier to bear.

He takes out another letter, and it’s…it’s the first one? The first letter you left him after you spent the night in his room. He remembers waking up on the floor, tired and raw from that conversation on the balcony. He was fully prepared to act like it never happened. He was a little disappointed to wake up alone, but he was sure that it only proved that you wanted to forget about it too. Imagine his surprise when he rolled over—not to the empty space he was expecting, but to a note on your pillow.

I really appreciate…

Thank you for…

Just thank you.

He was left floored. He was seventeen years old and he couldn’t remember the last time anyone thanked him for anything.

Finnick brings the note to his nose and your perfume floods his senses, drowning him in memories. Memories of long train rides home from the Capitol, his only company being the smell of you on his clothes.

And try as he might, he can’t forget. He can still feel the blood caked under his fingernails and flaking at his wrist. Can still feel the warmth of your beating heart in his hand after he ripped it out. That’s his punishment. Remembering it all, good and bad.

He’s broken from his musing by the crunching of sand approaching him from behind.

“You’ve been out here for hours. Aren’t you cold?” Annie's soft-spoken voice is almost lost in the wind. No. He isn’t. He’s the exact opposite, actually. He’s scorching from the inside out. He’s burning bright and hot and one day he’ll implode under the weight of it all like a supernova. The only respite he can imagine is the cool relief of your touch. He’s scared he’ll forget what that feels like. 

She sighs when he doesn’t answer. “We know you’re hurting, Finnick, and we’re worried. You can talk to us. You don’t have to just…talk to your letters. We’re here for you.”

He doesn’t look up; he doesn’t have the strength to, but he nods anyway. Of course, they can tell he’s hurting. A blind man could spot his suffering from a mile away. He hadn’t bothered to hide it outside of the Capitol.

“...Try not to stay out here too long, okay?

Annie squeezes his shoulder before walking back up the beach, leaving him alone, and he's thankful. She shouldn't have to see him like this. She shouldn't have to see him break down. 

I'm allowed to, he thinks, I'm in mourning.

But how can he mourn something he killed?

He reaches into the box one more time, pulling out a stray scrap of paper and a pen. His hands shake along with his shoulders, his handwriting so bad that only he and you would be able to understand it. He writes:

Dear Heart,

I don’t know who Finnick Odair is without his love for you.

Every day, I think I can’t possibly miss you more than I already do. And then another day passes and I prove myself wrong.

Is there a fate crueler than this?

I just want to see you again. I just want to hold you again. One last glance, one last smile, one last laugh, one last kiss. If I knew the last time I saw you would be the LAST time I saw you, I never would have blinked. I’d have made the moment last forever. But forever isn’t nearly enough, is it?

Do you think you could ever forgive me?

-I love you I love you I love you,

Finn

Present (XI) - Finnick

[23 & 24] - THE CAPITOL; ELEVENTH FLOOR

“I thought I’d find you here."

“Haymitch.” Finnick leans in the doorway of your room, wiping sleep from his eyes. He hadn’t meant to fall asleep. He wanted to stay awake and bask in the little time he had left with you, but he hadn’t slept next to you in so long and it felt like he was lured in.

“Listen,” the man rubs at his scruff, “it’s not what I came here for, but I’m happy you two figured out whatever the hell…” He trails off with a particularly constipated look, waving a hand vaguely in the direction of your room.

“...Right. Thanks.” Finnick clears his throat. “I’m, uh, I’m happy too.”

“Yeah… Anyway.” He sighs. “There've been a few last-minute adjustments to the plan.”

That wakes Finnick up, his mind running over what Haymitch has already told him to do in the arena. “Oh, should I wake Star—”

“No, no. This is just for you. We realized you’d have no way of knowing when you should be heading to the pickup point, especially since things out here can change on a dime.” He steps closer, burying his hands in his pockets. “Once all of the necessary players are gathered in the arena, a sponsor gift will be sent down, probably some kind of food. Pay attention to the district and the amount that’s sent.”

Finnick squints. “Why?”

“The district tells you the day we’re coming and the amount tells you the hour—do not get the two mixed up.” Haymitch raises a hand, staring Finnick down until he nods. 

“Alright, I won’t. And the pickup point?”

“When in doubt, Beetee will know.” He sighs, running a hand through his hair. He’s sure working behind the scenes and acting as a messenger is harrowing work, especially with Snow on such high alert. “Our girl managed to get in Peeta’s good graces. Not that I’m surprised; they probably bonded over how ‘fun’ and 'rewarding' it is to help the less fortunate or something. Having her plus Beetee and Wiress will definitely give Johanna and Blight some credibility in Katniss’s eyes. You, on the other hand, are gonna need to rely on something other than your good looks and Mags.” He fishes a flash of gold out of his pocket—some kind of bracelet.  

Finnick takes it gingerly, examining how the light makes it shimmer.

“Take it into the arena as a token. Show it to her, preferably before she shoots you between the eyes. And, shit, if that doesn’t work, ask her…tell her to remember who the real enemy is.”

He wants to ask what that means outside of this very specific context; he wants to know what this bracelet means to him and Katniss if just seeing it will be enough for her to make him an ally. But he doesn’t. He feels like it’ll bring on more questions than it’ll answer.

“I’m gonna need you to hold onto something for me then.” He reaches into one of the deep pockets along his billowy pants until he feels the familiar shape against his fingers. He’s almost hesitant to give it away. When the Quell was announced, he was sure he would die with it on him. But it’s a part of you and he can’t take the chance of it getting destroyed. “It’s, um. It’s a photo she gave to me a few years back, I always carry it on me—”

“You don’t need to explain.” When it’s handed to him, Haymitch takes a moment to look at you. Finnick feels a little self-conscious of how faded it is from years of him running his fingers along your face—faded from years of being well loved. “I’ll make sure she gets back to you.” He’s careful when placing your photo in his pocket and Finnick feels relieved that there’s someone on the outside who wants to get you out of the arena just as much as he does.

“Good luck, kid.” He squeezes Finnick’s shoulder and hesitates. His eyes shift to the walkway that leads to where you’re resting. “When she wakes up, tell her… Tell her I said…” He trails off, his face severe, and Finnick understands painfully well.

“I will.” He promises. Haymitch purses his lips before giving a nod. Finnick watches his back as he leaves and wonders if that will be the last conversation he has with the man, one of his oldest friends.

Present (XI) - You 

[23 & 24] - THE CAPITOL; THE ARENA “Your tracker.” The Peacekeeper yanks your arm up wordlessly and waits for you to pull your sleeve back. You squint around the sharp pain as he jabs the needle into your forearm, burying the tracking device under your skin. You glare at his back and rub at your now-raised skin. 

You grip the straps of your seatbelt as the hovercraft begins its ascent.

As relayed from Haymitch to Finnick to you, Peeta brought you up as an ally, and, luckily enough, Katniss wasn't against the idea. It might have something to do with the conversation you and she had before the Chariot Rides or maybe it’s the fact that you're the only person Peeta suggested. It hadn't been your intention to get on his good side when you offered to train him, but you're glad you did. It makes your job that much easier.

“It's a very breathable, lightweight material, so I’m thinking of a humid environment, maybe tropical. Large bodies of water for certain. Have you decided on a token?" Your stylist pipes up from her seat beside you.

“Oh. Yeah.” You lift your hand to show her the blue bracelet sitting snugly on your wrist. She gasps and you pull your wrist away, looking around the carrier for anything that could be the cause of the sound. “What? What’s wrong?”

“Nothing, nothing!” She waves you off with a flippant hand. “It’s just, I didn’t think I’d see you wear that bracelet again. I know Finnick never took his off, but—” You yank your arm back against your chest, holding your bracelet almost as if you can hide it.

"Wha-what..how do you, how…?”

“Us stylists confide in each other, and, well, those of us behind the scenes thought the two of you were just so cute together! I never saw you without that bracelet for five years straight and then one day, it was just gone. Poof! Oh, we were worried sick something happened with you two. But now it’s back!” She cheers, clapping her hands.

You gape at her. “You…you knew? All of you? And you never…?” Never leaked the gossip to the tabloids? To Snow?

“What? Heavens no! We're not heartless, dear. It wasn't our place. Besides,” she leans over, her crimson-painted lips pulled into a smile as she pats your thigh. Her eyes are glossy enough that you’re almost certain she’ll start crying. “You two deserve to be happy.”

You nod stiltedly, rocked by this new information. Did Finnick know? No. If either of you did, you would have been a bit nicer to your stylists. You’re quiet for the rest of the flight as she talks to you. This time around, you do try to listen to what she’s saying, nodding along at the right moments to show you’re paying attention. It’s a bit late, but you feel like you owe it to her.

She walks you down to the tube that’ll take you to the arena.

“This is it, my dear.” She sniffs, raising a hand to her mouth as she actually starts crying now. “Oh, I’m a mess. I’m sorry.” She apologizes, fanning her pale face. You don’t think about it too hard; instead, you step toward her and pull her into a tentative hug.

“It’s okay, Shimmer,” you comfort her. “And for what it’s worth, thank you.”

“It’s not okay. It’s not fair at all.” You let her squeeze you tight, allowing the hug to go on longer than you normally would. She inhales and then pulls away. She holds you by your shoulders and takes you in. “It’s been an honor working with you, my dear.”

“Same here.” You smile, but it feels more like a grimace.

You step onto the platform.

The door slides shut behind you and you start feeling sick as you rise. Sick enough that you worry you might vomit before you even make it into the arena. Your heart beats in your teeth. It’s starting to dawn on you, you realize, just how fucked you are. There’s the revolution, but there’s no guarantee you’ll even live long enough to be saved. You’ve been training like crazy, not that it was that hard with the way you grew up. It’s one thing to use your skills for physical labor; it’s another to use them in a fight to the death. That wasn’t how you survived your Games.

You hold your breath, gathering and reminding yourself of what’s important. The plan. And the plan hinges on you getting to the Cornucopia and surviving.

Your stylist tearfully waves you off as you rise, her elaborate and puffy white gown the last you see of her. You look up at the hole of light as you approach it, your nails digging into your palm.

The drastic temperature change makes you shiver and squint, raising your hand to block the blinding rays of the sun. This heat is different from the kind you’re used to. Heavier, somehow even more humid than Eleven’s muggy summers. The sun disorients you and the little wind that comes through carries the smell of salt. You push through the fog of your senses and force yourself to see.

There’s water—a shit ton of it. Saltwater if your nose is to be trusted. Shimmer was right.

The first thing you do is look for Finnick. You can’t help yourself; the need to know where he is is stronger than your need to acclimate. Your gaze bounces from tribute to tribute in your search for him. Sweat is already gathering on your brow when you finally find him. You see him, but only barely, on your left. He’s about three sections away, close enough that you make eye contact with him. It’s brief and fleeting, but long enough for your stomach to settle and your heartbeat to slow. 

You’re all divided by rocky strips of land that protrude from the island the Cornucopia rests on like the spokes of a wheel. And in between each spoke are two tributes. That would mean there are twelve sections.

Mentally, you try to map out where everyone is. You note that Finnick is standing beside Chaff.

On your immediate left is Johanna, sectioned off from you by the long line of rocks. You nod at each other and relief courses through you knowing you won’t have to search for her. Beetee stands with Cecilia in between Finnick and Johanna’s respective sections. Was this placement intentional or just luck?

With half of your group near you, your eyes rove around for the missing two and—

“Shit.” You curse. You’ll have to go looking for Wiress. That’s the first part of the plan: Johanna gets Beetee, you get Wiress, and Blight waits for the four of you away from the Cornucopia. You’re lucky to be placed next to Beetee and Johanna, but it would have been nice if Wiress was a little closer. Or within your line of sight, at least.

“Let the 75th Hunger Games begin. May the odds be ever in your favor.”  

The sound of Ceasar’s cohost echoes throughout the arena and you rush to gather more information. On your immediate right is the woman from Nine, about the same distance from you as the strip of land on your left. You know she never stepped foot in the training center, so you’re confident in the fact that she isn’t a threat. A little further down are Peeta and the man from Ten. You do a double-take. You hadn’t expected him to be so close to you and you have to force yourself to ignore him. You beat back the instinct to watch him like a hawk; that isn’t your job right now—it’s Mags and Finnick’s. The next section houses Woof and Mags and beside them are Enobaria and the female morphling. That’s as far down as you can see.

Your muscles tense up when he begins the countdown. 

You take stock of your surroundings. Before you is the Cornucopia, and behind you is a beach and a deep forest—no, a jungle. The large body of water surrounding your platform looks pretty clear. Nothing but fish and plants, you’re sure. It’s doubtful they’d put anything deadly in there. Not when so many of the tributes can’t do anything more than doggy paddle. And certainly not this early into the Games. What an odd choice to have water this deep. Especially considering how rare a skill swimming is in the districts.

You watch the red, rotating cube as it flashes down to one, your muscles poised like a spring as you prepare to jump. You take a breath and dive in.

Deep in the woods behind the shack your family used to call home, there was a lake in an area the Peacekeepers seldom patrolled. That’s where your dad taught you to swim. You haven’t done it in a long time, not since before he was killed. You’re more than a little rusty and you wish you had aimed a little more to your left.

The cold water is a shock to your system, but you don’t have time to stay idle. You don’t sink to the bottom like you think you will; you’ve forgotten how much lighter water makes your body. The salt in the water burns your eyes every time you try to open them so you squint and swim towards where you think the strip of land is. It’s a battle. The distance, while a problem on its own, is nothing compared to the strength of the waves. 

You’re panting by the time you make it there, shaky fingers grappling with the wet rocks as you pull yourself up, thanking your forethought to focus on training your upper body strength. The woman from Nine had jumped in the opposite direction, aiming for the beach instead of the Cornucopia. Smart. You’d do the same, but you need a weapon and you need to find Wiress. You push your water-laden hair out of your eyes, getting your feet under you and taking off towards the Cornucopia. 

You're surprised when you make it across without slipping. You have to make the split-second decision between getting a weapon or looking for Wiress first. You glance behind you, and no one seems that adept in the water on your side. Johanna is just now clawing her way out of the waves. You guess there aren’t many reasons to swim in Seven. You make a run for the mouth of the Cornucopia with the sound of cannon fire chasing you and you hope to God that no one sets their sights on Wiress. You glance to your right, and you can blurrily make out Finnick, Katniss, and Mags helping Peeta out of the water.

You skid to a stop, your legs freezing without your actual input.

“Finnick!” You yell, and his head whips up before you fully get his name out. The water weighs his hair down, turning it a darker blond than you’re used to seeing it. You aren’t entirely sure why you called out for him. Maybe it was more for his comfort than yours; he’ll need to know that you weren’t the cause of one of the cannons firing. 

“Star!” He grasps his trident tighter, scanning your surroundings for potential threats. When he sees none, his shoulders relax but his trident remains poised in anticipation.

He looks from you to his group and back again. You shake your head to stop him from taking that step forward. It was only three hours ago that you last saw him. And before that, the two of you stayed up talking about nothing until you fell asleep in each other’s arms. Nonetheless, the desire to run to him is strong. You can see him fight that same impulse you do. When the cannon fires again, Finnick leaps into action, nodding at you with an uncertain gleam in his eyes before placing Mags on his back. 

You watch them all run for the jungle before getting your weapon. You spot a scythe propped up with spears and tridents and can tell immediately that it was planted for you. You take a second to analyze it distrustfully. A metal handle and a deeply curved blade, undoubtedly for show rather than harvesting. You won’t take it. It’s big and cumbersome, and it’ll slow you down in this kind of terrain. Plus, the strength needed to wield this in an actual fight is beyond you. Someone like Chaff or Brutus would get far more use out of it. Maybe even Finnick, if his trident ever fails him. It’ll just tire you out.

Instead, you opt for the twin sickles hanging next to it. They’re also bigger than any you’ve seen in Eleven. With their thick, smooth wooden handles, the blades are sharper than any you have ever used. Their weight will take some getting used to. When you notice more tributes orienting themselves on the rocks behind you, you decide the time for contemplation is over. 

You sprint to your left, eyes scouring the water for a small brunette woman. Wiress is on the other side of the Cornucopia, more floating in the water than swimming.

“Wiress!” You call. She waves her hands as if you can’t see her and you nod, weary of attracting unwanted attention. Luckily, she’s been in the water for so long that the waves have carried her towards the island. It doesn’t take much to pull her out.

“You, you’re hurt?” She speaks in her usually broken speech pattern, gesturing towards you, and you’re quick to look down, thinking you’ve been hurt without knowing it. When you come back with nothing, you look back at her, confused, and she gestures again. You realize it’s a question, not a statement. 

She seems tunneled in on whether you’re hurt or not. Drenched with water and frustration, you spin around in front of her. “I’m fine, Wiress, I’m fine, but we have to go.” She’s a lot more amicable now, allowing you to corral her back to where you saw Johanna last. The bodies littered around give you pause. In front of you lies a woman who is half-submerged in the pinkish water. Taking a deep breath, you step over her and drag Wiress with you.

When you get to the mouth of the Cornucopia, you spot your two allies locked in a fight. That is to say, Beetee huddles behind Johanna as she fights, clutching a spool of wire to his chest as if it were the only thing between him and certain death. Johanna and the man from Nine are locked in the most dangerous game of tug of war you’ve ever seen. They both have their hands on an axe and if this were a game of speed, she’d have him on his knees already. But he’s bigger than her, stronger too, and just as unwilling to let it go.

Her teeth are bared in exertion, legs almost buckling under the strain. He has the blade pushed alarmingly close to her neck and you don’t think about it; your body is pushed into action before you’re even aware that you’re moving. Later, you’ll think back on how easy it was. You’ll think about how quickly he stopped being a human being like you and instead became an enemy—a threat. You’ll think about it—about who he used to be before he became a body—and you will come alarmingly close to crying. For now, you kick the man in the back of the knee and he goes down with a grunt. Johanna uses the leverage the new position gives her and snatches the axe out of his hands with a huff.

You lift the sickle in your dominant hand high in the air, putting your full weight behind it as you drive the blade into the top of his head. The collision of metal against bone ricochets up your arms, leaving your muscles vibrating. He falls forward with a heavy thud and you stumble backwards. Your hands feel like they’re vibrating and the adrenaline coursing through you puts a stop to any panic before it can begin. 

You move forward and have to place your foot on his back, grunting as you use both hands to yank your weapon back out. He makes a keening sound in the back of his throat—the guttural moans of a dying animal. You’re not used to being the one on this side of the slaughter. He’s still alive, but he won’t be for long. You won’t wait for the cannon to go off. 

“Let’s go!” The four of you sprint towards the beach, glancing behind you in case the Careers decide to give chase. There are still plenty of tributes on their platforms, too scared to brave the water. They should hold their attention long enough for your group to get away. Running away as the Careers lay claim to the Cornucopia makes you feel like prey. 

“Blight!” Johanna shouts and your head whips around, searching until you find the burly man a few yards away, waving you over. You all run to him and you take another mental stock.  

Between the five of you, you have an axe, two sickles, a machete Johanna managed to snag, a spool of wire, and two brilliant minds. That should be more than enough for the plan. Johanna hands the machete over to Blight and you and her share a glance before wordlessly booking it into the jungle with your charges. Blight leads and you carry the rear. 

You really hope it doesn’t take long to find Finnick.

A/N: ┬┴┬┴┤(･_├┬┴┬┴ Heyyyy, are you mad at me? I hope you didn't mind that rant in the summary. I felt like Rue's death from this perspective hurt a little more bc you know it's coming, but Star doesn't, and sometimes I get carried away with writing my thoughts. ┐(シ)┌ More Finnick audios in the next chapter to make up for the shortage in this one. Come yell at me!!!

[ohmyamor]

Richkid!Jongho

a:/n definitely not inspired by the long expensive coats the stylists put Jongho in...

today is not your day 

first, you woke up incredibly late due to your alarm failing to go off 

then, there was no breakfast in your house, your parents’ note on the fridge saying that they were planning a grocery run this weekend 

it’s tuesday 

meaning you had to leave for school on an empty stomach

which would’ve been fine had you not skipped dinner last night for the sake of finishing your project 

which, might you add, was a group project that none of your group mates participated in

fucking rich kids

long story short, you ended up arriving at school on an empty stomach, leading you to be very, very hangry 

at least until your break, where you grabbed something from the vending machines 

then, when it came time to present the group project, none of your group mates provided anything of substance to the presentation 

they literally just stood there like morons while you presented everything 

you stayed after class to talk to the teacher about possibly getting more credit for doing, you know, all the work

only for him to cut you off, saying that if you had problems, it should’ve either been brought up at the beginning of the assignment 

or you could’ve talked to them yourself 

 but you know the only reason the teacher won’t lower the students grades is because of the hefty donation their parents make to the school every year 

the perks of attending a school full of rich kids

except your family isn’t rich

they’re not poor either, your parents income settling nicely somewhere in the middle 

which you should be grateful for 

because it means that, for the most part, the rich students leave you alone

yeah you’re attending the school on a scholarship, but besides a few snide remarks here and there, you get left alone for the most part

but going back to your horrible day

the icing on the cake has to be right now, at this current moment 

school was let out around 3, but you stayed after for a little bit to help tutor an underclassman who was struggling in a literature class you had already taken 

it was pretty easy to tutor the kid, he seemed like he was really trying to do better, which always made your life much easier 

but still, you can’t deny the relief you felt once the tutoring hour came to an end and you were allowed to leave

opening your car door, you haphazardly tossed your backpack into the passenger seat and buckled yourself in

you place the key in the ignition, turning it and waiting for the rumble of the engine to start up

except it never came 

staring at your steering wheel, you attempt once, twice, three more times to turn the key, praying to whatever gods that were laughing at you to please just let your car start so you could get home

it seems no one answered your prayers 

letting out a loud swear, you throw open your car door and step out before slamming the door behind you. 

you pull out your phone to try and call your parents, but before you can even pull up your contacts, your phone’s screen turns black

it died 

you think incredulously 

letting out a small laugh of disbelief you toss your phone onto the hood of your car

rubbing your face over your hands, you begin to think of a plan 

I think I still have some cash, I might be able to catch the bus home 

I just have to ask the security guards to not tow my car, or else I’ll have to go and pay to get it back with money I certainly don’t have right now-

“Hey” 

you startle, looking to your side

where a sleek, black car has now pulled up next to you

the passenger side window is rolled down, and through it, you see a familiar face

Choi Jongho 

son of the people who literally own the school

You close your eyes

my day cannot get any fucking worse you think

not that you hate Jongho or anything

he’s actually quite nice

a little out of touch with reality sometimes, but pleasant enough

in the beginning of the semester, the two of you were paired up for a short project 

while you initially dreaded it, as every other kid you had ever been paired up with sat back and let you do all the work

you were pleasantly surprised when Jongho insisted on splitting the work evenly with you

he even went as far dropping off assignments you missed when you had unexpectedly fallen sick 

of course, once the project was finished, the two of you went your separate ways 

save for the small nod of acknowledgement the two of you shared when you passed each other in the halls

you guys didn’t talk to each other 

that doesn’t mean you didn’t notice how good he always looked though

with his long coats and perfectly done hair 

and on occasion, the thick round glasses that nicely framed his face-

“(Y/n)?”

Blinking harshly, you’re shaken out of your thoughts when Jongho calls your name 

He quirks an eyebrow

“Are you okay?”

You let out a sigh and shake your head

“My car decided today would be the best day to take a shit on me”

Jongho makes a small o shape with his mouth before reaching over to pop open the passenger door 

“C’mon, I’ll take you home” 

Your eyes widen and you begin shaking your head 

“Nononono, it’s fine. I have money to take the bus anyways, I’ll just come back later for my car. Plus, I don’t want you to waste your gas driving me around-”

your rambling is cut short when Jongho lets out a small chuckle 

“You really think I care about gas?”

You shut your mouth before shrugging 

“I don’t know what you rich kids worry about in the first place,” you tease

Jongho rolls his eyes

“Just get in the car (Y/N), you shouldn’t take the bus right now anyways.”

Thinking it over for a split second, you nod your head and reach back inside your car to grab your backpack, phone and keys

quickly locking your car, you sling your backpack over your shoulder and walk over to Jongho’s car 

sliding in, you can’t help but notice how nice the interior is

there’s not a speck of dust in the whole thing and it smells so good

I wonder if it’s his cologne you muse

“Same address?” Jongho asks, looking at you expectantly 

god, it feels so weird to have his full gaze pinned on you 

even after working with him, you don’t think you’ll ever get over the giddy feeling in your stomach you experience when Jongho rests his full attention on you

“Yup,” you swallow, nodding your head

Jongho is quick to put his car in drive and the two of you take off in a comfortable silence 

“So,” Jongho starts, “what happened with your car?” 

you groan, your head falling back against the headrest 

“Honestly, I have no idea. It’s rarely given me any problems before this, but today, it just decided to stop turning on altogether.” 

Jongho hums

“I have a close friend who’s really good with cars,” he says. 

“I can ask him to take a look at yours, if you want.”

You frown slightly 

If he knows Jongho then it might cost me an arm and a leg just for him to even look at my car

“It’s okay-” you start, trying to figure out how to nicely turn him down

As if reading your mind, Jongho cuts you off 

“You don’t have to worry about money, if that’s what you’re thinking about,” he glances at you from the corner of his eye

“I’ll just say it’s for a friend and he won’t charge me.” 

a friend?

“Plus, he owes me anyway from the last time I helped him out with his girlfriend,” Jongho rolls his eyes, but you can still hear the fondness seeping into his tone

You turn to face him

“Are you sure?” you ask hesitantly 

you don’t like feeling like you owe people things 

not that Jongho is one of those people

but still

his car probably costs more than your house

and you’d rather not have to experience paying him back, whatever way it may be

Jongho shrugs

“Of course. I’d rather help you with car and not worry about you getting around safely than letting you take it elsewhere.” 

You feel your face warm and you have no idea what to say

meanwhile, Jongho is internally freaking the fuck out over letting his thoughts slip 

yeah, okay, maybe he thinks you’re a little cute, and he really admires your work ethic, and how you treat him like a normal human being rather than just another rich kid 

and maybe he thinks your nervous habit of chewing on your lip is a little bit cute and the way you confidently raise your hand to speak up in class is, like, really hot 

but still

he’s supposed to be cool and collected 

not whatever the fuck just happened

there’s an awkward silence while the two of you sit with those words

thankfully, Jongho turns onto your street before the silence can stretch on 

“I’m surprised you still remember where I live,” you admit

Jongho tries to ignore the way his neck feels hot 

“What can I say, I have a great memory” 

slowly, the car pulls up to a smooth stop in front of your driveway

grabbing your backpack, you reach for the door handle 

“Thank you again Jongho, I really appreciate it,”

now it’s his turn to feel flustered at your honest gaze 

“anytime” is all he manages to get out 

nodding slightly, you open the car door and step out, making sure to gently shut the door behind you 

before you’re able to take a few steps forward, a voice stops you in your tracks

“What time should I be here tomorrow?” 

You make a confused noise

“Huh?”

“Well, since you still don’t have a car and I won’t be able to have my friend look at it for another week, I’ll pick you up and drop you off.”

you shake your head 

“No it’s fine! Seriously, this was more than enough, and you’re already doing so much for me-”

Jongho cuts you off again

“But I want to,” he says simply

well shit 

what are you supposed to say to that? 

biting your lip nervously, you eventually nod your head 

“Okay fine, but I’m going to do something to return the favor,” you threaten 

a beautiful gummy smile breaks out on Jongho’s face 

“I can’t wait”

                                               ˚ʚ♡ɞ˚

i love jongho so much

[traveler-at-heart]

What we were - Chapter 3

Chapter 1, Chapter 2 

Pairings: Natasha Romanoff x Fem!R

CW: Character death, cheating.

Not sure if ya’ll gonna like where this is going but... this is my design.

Over the course of three weeks, you received yellow tulips, chocolate and danish scones from your favorite bakery.

Each item always included a hand-written note from Natasha wishing you a good day or with a poem you loved. You gave your thanks via text, but that was about it from your side.

Natasha also made it a point to drive and pick up Anya at least three times a week. On Fridays, they had dinner together and brought extra for you and Bucky.

A peace offering that he didn’t give a damn about. Still, it was fun for you to watch them interact with phony smiles, wondering who would break first.

As August ended, Anya’s school sent out their usual PTA meeting invite. You RSVPd, not really expecting Natasha to be there.

“Let me drive you” Bucky says as you look at yourself in the mirror. For the first time in months, you’re about to leave the house to interact with grown ups that won’t look at you with pity or sadness.

“And leave Anya alone? I don’t think so”

“It looks like it will rain, and you absolutely can’t drive at night with rain” 

“Are you calling me old? You, the centennial man?” you pinch him, reaching for the wrong arm. “Ouch” 

“Clearly, this interaction has shown that I’m more mature than both of you,” Anya proclaims, doing her homework in the living room. “It’s a short drive and you know uncle Bucky is right, Mom” 

“Ugh, fine. But call us if you need anything, please?” you kiss her forehead and in spite of yourself, wear your reading glasses. 

“Yeah, yeah” 

“Be back in a second, kid” Bucky says, ruffling her red hair.

“With Chinese”

“Fine” 

“She’s so bossy” you comment, buckling up. He chuckles.

“Wonder where she got that from” 

“Hey!” you slap his arm, thankful that it wasn’t the metal one this time. “I know you’re just driving me because you want to see Miss Day”

“Anya’s teacher? Nah” his blush gives it away.

“Busted” 

You have to hold back a laugh when, out of all people, Miss Day is the one greeting everyone at the door.

“Sergeant Barnes” she greets a little too eagerly. “Will you be joining Mrs. Romanoff tonight?”

“Just dropping her off” he stumbles with his words.

“He’s such a gentleman, don’t you think?” you say, nudging him. “Any girl would be lucky to have him” 

“Well, Anya speaks wonders of you. And you’re welcome to stay, we will just be a little crowded in the classroom, considering the other Mrs. Romanoff is already here” 

“Oh. Right” 

“That’s my cue. Call me later” he mumbles, annoyed at the idea of Natasha arriving earlier than you two.

“Of course!” Miss Day is quick to answer, but blushes a second later. “Oh, right, you meant… her. Ha-ha, silly me” 

You’ll never, ever, let him forget this.

As you walk into the classroom, still smiling, your eyes meet Natasha’s. She waves at you awkwardly.

“Saved you a seat” she points at the chair next to hers and you nod.

“Thank you” 

Miss Day goes over the upcoming fairs, projects and field trips. The curriculum goes next and by the time she finishes with the Q&A session, it’s been an hour.

The last part consists of parents meeting privately with Miss Day to review grades and conduct. It’s in alphabetical order so you’re one of the last.

“I forgot how long these things are” you sit next to Natasha in one of the hallway benches. You lean back, sighing. 

“Want some chocolate?”

“Mmm, yes. I’m starving” you take the snack and practically moan at the first bite. “Sorry” you mumble when Natasha blushes. 

“I like it when you wear glasses,” she says, looking at her feet.

It’s your turn to blush.

“Thank you” 

“Mrs. and Mrs. Romanoff?” Miss Day calls for you.

“Us? So soon?” you look at Natasha and she shrugs her shoulders.

“Oh, yeah, we’re not doing the alphabetical thing anymore. We go over top performers first. Please sit. Anya is doing great. As you know, she’s already fluent in four languages…”

“Five” Natasha corrects and you go over the list in your head. Oh yeah, German.

“Right, five. Sorry” Miss Day looks flustered, and you remember that most of Anya’s teachers have always been particularly afraid of your wife.

“I forgot as well. It’s hard to keep up with Anya sometimes” you intervene, kicking Nat’s leg softly.

Be nice.

The Russian smiles, trying to look friendly.

“She’s leaning towards Humanities a little bit more than last year. As you remember, she won first place at the Interstate Science Fair. And her grades are still great in all subjects, but she has been reading a lot more. And taken some interest in learning to play the piano” 

“My dad made me take lessons when I was her age. I may have mentioned it once or twice. Though none of us really know how to play any instruments, right, darling?” you say, distractedly.

“R-right” Natasha’s eyes widen at the pet name. “Yelena, her aunt, she plays the guitar”

“Oh, yeah” you nod, still unaware of your slip up. “Well, I’ll ask her if she wants to take some private lessons. I’m too rusty to teach her anything”

“Other than that, she’s doing great. She’s a great kid, sweet and very kind to her peers… as for faculty members…” 

“What?” you're shocked to think that anyone would complain about your daughter.

“Well, kids like Anya…”

“Like what?” Natasha practically barks at the teacher and she jumps in her seat.

“I mean super smart. They tend to have an issue with authority and question everything. There’s also that thing where she’s very good at sneaking around”

“We’ll talk to her” you promise, but you’re uncertain about how the conversation will go.

After all, you married her other mother while you two were running away from the American government. And the Avengers were famous for breaking rules regularly.

The team had a whole Wikipedia page on broken laws, including sections by country and international organizations.

“In that case, class dismissed” the woman seems relieved when you say goodbye.

You walk next to Natasha, caught up in your thoughts. She keeps you from walking into the rain by pulling you next to her.

“Huh?” you look back, your face inches away from hers.

“It’s raining” she explains.

“Oh” 

“Do you want my jacket? Where did you park?”

“Buck drove me here. I’ll get a cab” 

“Let me” she offers, her green eyes pleading.

“Could we… get something to eat first? I’m very hungry and not in the mood for chinese”

“Yes, anything you want” 

There’s an awkward moment as she walks you to the passenger door and you both reach for the handle.

“Sorry, yeah…” you let her pull and then you slip inside, trying to control your breathing.

“What are you in the mood for?” she says, driving out of the school’s parking lot.

“Grilled cheese” you say and she chuckles. 

“From Al’s?”

“Where else, Nat?”

“Coming right up”

--

“You really were hungry” Natasha smiles as you steal another one of her fries.

“Maria had me on back to back meetings. And then I went to swim for a whole hour. So this is just me rewarding myself for being such a responsible adult” 

“How’s the leg?”

“The same”

“My offer still stands,” she reminds you. Her phone rings and you’re saved the trouble of refusing said offer for the second time. “Will you excuse me?” 

“Yeah, sure. I’ll finish your fries for you” 

Natasha rolls her eyes, but pushes the plate towards you.

The evening has been surprisingly pleasant. But a minute later, she hurriedly hangs up and walks back to you.

“Everything ok?”

“Yeah” she lies.

In the past, maybe because you loved her, you let those small lies fly. But not pushing enough was part of what brought you here.

“Tasha? I’d like to know”

You lock eyes and you hold your breath as Natasha studies your expression.

“Ok” she nods. You give her a moment to gather her thoughts. “I’ve been researching… that mission. Trying to find whoever is responsible for Clint’s…”

She bites her lip, looking down. On instinct, you reach out across the table to squeeze her hand. Natasha holds on tight, running her thumb across your skin.

“I think I’ve found them. Kate was tracking her mother after she escaped prison. Seems like Eleanor Bishop is now working with international terrorists” 

“They weren’t prepared for that, then? Kate and Clint thought it would be something…”

“Easier”

You nod.

“So, what’s wrong?”

“It’s not gonna be easy to get to them. It’s a matter of international security and every government wants in on the mission. I was hoping I could call a few favors…”

“So, you’re not gonna go rogue and beat them on your own?” you arch an eyebrow, impressed with her self control.

Honestly, you expected Natasha to fly and kill them as soon as she got the intel.

“I wouldn’t be a very good mother if I was stuck at the Raft. Or running away like we used to”

“I’ll travel to D.C.” you offer and her eyes widen. “I can pull some strings. As much as I hate it, my father’s name still holds some weight there” 

“Would you do that? I know how much you hate going back there”

All the politics and the lies, the power these people craved and hoarded… yes, it made you sick. But if you could help Natasha, you’d take it.

“It will be fine”

“This means the world to me, Y/N” 

“I know, Nat. Which is why you’ll get me ice cream for dessert” 

“Deal” she lets go of your hand to call the waitress and you smile.

You also wish she hadn't let go.

--

Packing for one was easier than you remembered. It was only a two day trip, anyway. 

Natasha insisted on driving you to the airport and Anya wanted to tag along. It was as good a time as any to remind them of the rules of the house.

“Pop quiz, everyone” you announce.

Anya and Natasha groan at the same time.

“Do we really have to?” your daughter complains.

“How many times a day do you have to water my plants, Natasha?”

“Uh… five?”

“Once! Just once, tomorrow” Anya laughs at her mother and you turn to point at her. “Ok, plants are your responsibility now, missy”

“Aw, Ma!” 

“No Nerf guns inside the house” you keep listing the rules with your fingers.

“Hey, that’s no fun!” Natasha complains and you ignore her.

“No horror movies, if you order pizza it should have at least two different vegetables and last but not least, I do not want to come back home and see that you acquired any sort of animal as a pet” 

“So if a puppy shows up at our door and it’s raining, we’re supposed to leave them outside?” Anya peaks from the backseat.

“No, you drive them to uncle Buck’s and force him to take care of them” 

“Alright, we get it. We’ll behave, right, kiddo?” Natasha promises, winking at Anya.

Saying goodbye it’s harder than you imagined. Anya doesn’t know why you’re going to D.C., but she understands you wouldn’t leave if it wasn’t important.

“Y/N, it’s a two day trip” Natasha complains, carrying your heavy suitcase. “Bucky had no issue getting it down the stairs”

“That’s low, even for you, Ma” Anya says, but still laughs.

“I know, I’m sorry” you take the suitcase from Nat.

“You are not,” she chuckles.

“Tiny, tiny bit” you put your thumb and pointer finger close together. Anya hugs your side and you turn to her. “Take care of Mom, please. I’ll be back the day after tomorrow”

“We’ll be ok, I promise” 

“I love you” you say against her hair. She hugs you tight.

“We love you too” Anya says and you smile. 

“Have a nice trip” Natasha approaches nervously, her hands on the pockets of her jeans.

“Thank you”

Before you have time to process what’s happening, she leans forward and places a kiss on your forehead.

It’s all you can think about on the flight to D.C.

--

Secretary of State Leah Renfield sends a driver to pick you up from the airport. She accepted your request to meet immediately, which can only mean one thing: whatever you’re gonna ask of her, she already knows how you’ll pay it back.

“Agent Romanoff” she greets you, walking away from her huge mahogany desk. She’s tall and her blonde hair has some white on the front. 

“Madame Secretary, it’s good to see you again” you take the hand she offers and follow her to a small futon next to a giant window. 

“I must say, I love that you took your wife’s last name. Natasha Romanoff is a KGB double agent and you’d rather be associated with her than with Thaddeuss Ross” 

“Well, it’s hard to be on good terms with a parent that turns you into an outlaw” 

“In the end, the Avengers did more for the world than he did” she concedes. It’s no secret that she never liked your father, but you share the sentiment wholeheartedly. “So, I am very happy to welcome you whenever you want. I know that you’re still working in intelligence and SHIELD ops”

“Right” you sit straight and look her in the eye. “The thing is… as you know, Agent Barton was killed seven months ago”

“A tragedy” 

“We’ve gathered evidence and it all points to an international terrorist organization called Helios. They’ve been collaborating with some lower rank Hydra officials. It’s all here” you hand over the information that Natasha has collected, about members, attacks and possible targets.

“This is an issue of international security, then” she declares, after browsing through the files. “But what’s the point of bringing it to me?”

“We want to be the ones on a mission to tear it down and arrest those responsible for killing Agent Barton” 

“We, as in, the Avengers”

“Yes”

Renfield sighs, and stands up to walk around the room. She pauses near the alcohol cabinet. It’s too early for a glass of bourbon.

“The world isn’t what it used to be when you were a team, Agent. Frankly, I don’t know how you all got away with so much contempt for the law”

“Well, we saved the universe once or twice. Remember Thanos?”

The woman sighs and nods. Yes, she does. Her daughter and husband were blipped, after all. She has her family back because of you.

“I’m here because we want to do things right. Without causing you too much trouble, as I understand you might run for president next year…”

Renfield laughs and looks at you.

“I always thought you’d do great in politics” 

“I’m not sure if that’s a compliment, Madam Secretary” 

“Me neither”

There’s a knock at the door; her Chief of Staff reminds her she has to run to another meeting.

“Walk with me” she asks, taking the file and handing it over to her assistant. “When are you going back to New York?”

“Friday morning” 

“I’ll try to have an answer by then”

“Thank you” 

“Let’s meet before you go back. And give my best to your wife”

“Will do”

--

“I don’t want her greetings, I want her to okay the mission. In fact, I want her to authorize a nuclear warhead straight to these terrorists’ asses” Natasha rants.

You finally made it to the hotel and have a few hours before you meet with a friend from Law School.

“Jeez, Nat. Let’s just wait for her answer”

Natasha insisted on a video call the minute you checked in.

“Fine. You’re good at reading people. What do you think she’ll say?”

“My guess?” you sigh. “They’ve known about Helios for a while. Their operation is very similar to Hydra. We were the only ones who could deal with Hydra. And now, we’re offering to do the work for the CIA, MI6 and Interpol”

“So they’ll say yes”

“But since we came asking for the favor first… I don’t know. Maybe Renfield will want some type of endorsement for her campaign. I can do that”

“I didn’t mean to put you in this position. I’m sorry”

“I offered. And it will be worth it if we can put Clint’s killers behind bars” 

“Yeah…”

“Natasha, you can’t kill them”

“It could be an accident, detka”

“Stop, I’d like to know as little as possible in case this goes to trial” 

“Fair enough” she chuckles. “By the way, can I use your computer? I need to check my email and my phone is being stupid”

“Sure, the password is our anniversary” 

“Oh, ok” 

“Right… It’s almost time for you to pick up Anya. And I want to take a bath and sleep a little. Tell her I love her and that I’ll call her later, please?”

“Yeah, for sure”

“Thanks, Tasha” 

Walking away from your phone, you begin to get rid of your shirt and the black skirt falls to the ground. The bathtub is almost full so you go back to the bedroom in nothing but your underwear.

“Shit” 

Natasha is still on the call, mouth wide open. 

“I’m sorry, I thought you hung up”

“I thought you did” you mutter from the floor, hiding from the camera. “Byeee”

Damn it. 

--

Natasha can almost remember what life was like before she lost her best friend.

The domesticity of picking up Anya, making sure she does her homework while dinner is ready. You’re the only piece of the puzzle that’s missing.

She desperately wants to make it all better. Fix all the mistakes she made, take back the hurtful words she threw at you when she was so angry at the world.

“Dinner’s gonna be ready in five” the redhead tells her daughter.

“Can we eat in the living room while watching Project Runway?”

“Yes, but don’t tell your mother” 

“Mmkay” 

Just then, she remembers the email that Maria sent and she was supposed to review. She goes to your study. Nothing’s really changed in the room. Every wall is covered with books and your desk is full of pictures of your family.

Even the ones from your wedding.

Natasha runs her hand through one of the pictures. She’s looking at the camera and you’re looking at her, with complete love and adoration.

How could she be so blind to throw it all away?

As she logs in, there’s a notification from your calendar.

Dinner with Cynthia Florrick - Finestra

She tries really hard to not think about it, but that name rings a bell.

Oh, right. The divorce lawyer that Pepper threatened to hire if Tony didn’t retire.

You’re meeting with a divorce lawyer in D.C.

Natasha lost you.

--

“Hi, I have a reservation under Florrick” you greet the hostess. It’s an expensive Italian restaurant full of big suits and elegant women. 

Another thing you don’t miss about D.C.; their fixation on fancy clothes.

“Oh my God, it’s been ages!” your friend shouts. Her loud voice and manners are a little out of place among the clientele.

“Hi, Cyn” you hug her and take a seat. “Well, you won’t visit me in New York so I had to come to you”

“Oh, that’s soon about to change” she smirks. You don’t have a chance to ask why, as an older man walks behind you and she waves. “Cliff, so good to see you”

He gives her the side eye and walks away.

“He doesn’t look happy to see you”

“Oh, he’s just mad because I got his wife the lake house in the settlement. And anyway, as I was saying, I’m opening an office in New York and another one in San Diego”

“Congrats!”

“Yeah, baby. Call me the Tony Stark of family law”

“Well, I’ll be happy to introduce you to some people. You wouldn’t believe the divorce rate among spies” 

“Not you and Natasha, right?”

“Oh, no! We’re doing great” you lie.

“Well, good to hear” Cynthia raises her glass of wine. “Let’s chat, gossip about everyone from college and celebrate that we’re both great” 

--

It’s impossible to nap as you wait for the plane to land. 

On Thursday, Secretary Renfield invited you to a luncheon with some of the biggest names in national security.

The attendees were drawn to you. After all, the Avengers had been successful where most intelligence agencies failed. 

Before you left, she stood aside to brief you on her decision.

“The answer is yes. But with one condition. You lead the mission. Do you agree?”

“Yes”

“And you were right, I am aiming for the White House next year. If you feel inclined to show your support when that happens, I’ll be very grateful”

“Madam Secretary, you have my vote and my endorsement” 

You can’t wait to tell Natasha the news.

Maybe, just maybe, your lives can go back to normal.

Bucky and Anya are the ones waiting for you at the terminal.

“Is… everything ok?” 

“Yeah, I was just stealing this one for a baseball game” Bucky points at your daughter. “So you have a chance to catch up and get some rest”

“Well, it’s good to see you both” you smile, uncertain. Anya hugs you and she doesn’t seem too concerned, so you figure Bucky is telling the truth.

On the drive back home, you catch your daughter yawning a couple of times.

“You so went past your bedtime”

“Nuh-uh” she denies it.

“Yuh-uh”

“Real mature” Bucky mutters and you hit him.

“I leave for a day and everyone goes rogue” 

“Good thing you’re back, then”

When you finally get home, Bucky helps you with the suitcase while Anya waits in the car.

“Ok, as your friend, I’m warning you that Natasha asked me to take Anya so she could talk to you”

“James!” you say, punching him again. “Why didn’t you say something? Did she look happy? Worried? What were her exact words?”

“I don’t know, just go talk to her. The game is about to start. Good luck”

He sprints down the stairs and you are left to drag your heavy suitcase across the hallway.

“Nat? Natasha?”

You walk to your office, where she’s sitting, looking at your wedding pictures.

“Hi there”

“Hello” she greets, her voice low. She looks defeated.

Your heart pounds in your ears.

“What’s wrong?”

“I don’t need you to do me any favors out of pity or whatever it is you feel for me. I thought I had a chance, and all this time you were thinking about a divorce. I’m an idiot” she chuckles, but it comes out as a sob.

“Am I in an alternate universe where I mentioned the word divorce? Because I’ve never brought it up”

“You met with a lawyer” 

“Cynthia? You were spying on me?”

“The notification popped up on your computer when I was checking my emails”

“And instead of asking me, you go around making up scenarios. Just like you did last time, assuming I’d jump to bed with James. I get it, Natasha. You want to think the worst of me, that’s fucking fine. Let me know what other evil shit I’ll do next. Turn our daughter against you, maybe? Which would be really funny, considering I’ve made it a point to not tell her why you moved out of the house”

You look out the window, turning your back to her.

“You’re the only person that made me feel safe and happy and loved. All I ever wanted was to do the same for you. Even after everything, if you asked me to, I’d take you back in a heartbeat. I was so hurt because you kept pushing me away while you were sharing yourself with someone else. I thought you finally realized I couldn’t make you happy. And I love you and want to set you free, but I’m also too scared to let you go. So, sorry to disappoint you but if you want to move on, you’re gonna have to ask me for the divorce”

She’s silent as you pause to wipe your tears.

“So, are you gonna leave or what?” you bark out, impatient.

Natasha doesn’t move.

“Fine, I’ll go” you turn around, walking to the door. You’ll find a place to mourn, because this feels like the end, and you can’t take it. Natasha’s touch brings you back to earth. “What are you doing?”

“I-”

“Let me go” you plead, not turning around. She pulls you closer, spinning you until you face her.

“I’d be an idiot to let you go” 

A sob escapes and she silences it with her mouth, pressing her lips against yours in a searing kiss.

It’s everything you need, to feel complete again. Natasha’s touch is your sanctuary and you welcome its warmth. Her arms slide down your waist and you keep her close as she begins to undo the buttons of your pants. You break apart for a moment to take your shirt off, asking her to do the same with a tug.

“Let me take care of you” she pleads, going down and leaving a trail of kisses across your exposed skin. Your knees buckle when she reaches your underwear. “It’s ok, I got you”

Trusting, you allow her to lap at your folds, but the pressure is too much so you begin to lower yourself to the floor. Natasha makes sure that you’re comfortable and then resumes her ministrations, soft and deep.

It’s not possessive, but very intense. She’s soft and considerate, taking her time to build up the pleasure, until you’re on the brink of orgasm, holding her face close to your center until you ride every wave. 

“Was that ok?” she hovers over you and you taste yourself in her lips.

“Yes. But I need more”

“How much more?”

“A lot more”

--

Three hours later and you’re in bed, clothes scattered across the floor.

Well, Natasha’s clothes. Yours are still at your office.

“Was it good?” Natasha whispers and you make a face. “What?”

“You’ve never asked me that before. And now, this is the second time you do it”

“I just want to make sure you liked it” 

“I did. Very much liked it. In fact, like might be a bit of an understatement”

“Ok, good” she turns to her side and you do the same, your faces an inch away from each other. “So, what do we do now?”

“Well… we have a mission to complete. Then we can worry about the rest”

“Renfield said yes?” she asks, shocked. You nod.

“On the condition that I lead the mission. And I think we should tell the team, Nat. They deserve to know” 

Natasha sighs, sitting up.

“Maybe we should just let someone else handle this” 

“It’s not like us to let the bad guys get away with it” you kiss her shoulder, resting your chin against her arm. “What’s wrong?”

“I just got you back. What if something happens?”

“Everything will be alright. We do this together”

“Together” she promises, her forehead resting against yours.

Taglist: @wandabear, @thatonebrazilian, @canvascoloredin, @ctrlamira, @dvrkhcld, @username23345, @unexpected-character, @how-to-disappearrr, @casquinhaa, @cd-4848

[buckybarnesisdaddy]

Summer Lovin’ pt2

Summary: Everyone learns the truth about Peggy and Everly’s past. Bucky and Steve lend an ear, and both men make it clear who their heads have turned to.

Pairing: Everly(Reader) X Steve Rogers, Everly(R) X BuckyBarnes, Jake Jensen X Wanda Maximoff, Natasha Romanoff X Bucky Barnes. Past Everly(R) X Colin Shea, Past Peggy X Colin Shea, Past Everly(R) X Brock Rumlow.

Rating: Mature!

Warnings: Anger, yelling, talks of cheating, talks of post physical abuse, talks of death, flirting.

A/N: I am loving this story and the drama is only getting started! 🤭

Previous

All you see is red and if Natasha hadn’t been right behind you, your fist would have found Peggy’s jaw in about three seconds. “Easy, there.” Natasha says as she catches your hand and spins you back to face her. “She’s not worth getting kicked out.” She says as she squeezes your shoulders.

“That’s why you looked so familiar! Fuck you!” You yell as Natasha moves you away, wanting to create distance between you and Peggy.

“What the hell is going?” Bucky asks as he runs up beside you.

“Why is everyone screaming?” Jake asks as he walks up with Wanda.

“Everly, it’s not what it looks like!” Steve exclaims as he shoves Peggy off of him.

“Don’t pretend you didn’t like it, Steven.” Peggy says trying to be flirty but missing the mark completely. Steve turns to her, his piercing gaze quieting her quickly.

“My name is Steve. Not Steven. And I didn’t like it. In fact I was telling you to slow down and to stop. Short of throwing you on the ground I don’t know what else I could have done.” Steve exclaims before he quickly crosses over the lawn to you. “Please Everly, let me explain-“ you cut him off with a glare of your own.

“We will handle this later,” your gaze shifts over his shoulder to Peggy. “You just can’t help stealing men who aren’t yours, can you?!” You yell. Peggy scoffs and walks closer, hands on her hips and her nose in the air.

“I have no idea what you are talking about, Everly. This is the name of the game. Everyone flirts and switches partners the whole time. Don’t get so hurt about it.” She tries to brush off your comment, she thinks you won’t. That you won’t air the dirty laundry between you two, but she has underestimated you.

“Well, what about in life? Huh?! Is it ‘the name of the game’ to sleep with someone else’s boyfriend?!” You yell, you don’t mean to but the way Peggy is taken aback makes you feel better about yelling. Bucky and Steve look at you and then back at Peggy. Natasha scoffs and glares at the woman still holding her head high.

“Wait?” Bucky asks. “You are the woman who broke up Everly’s last relationship?”

“Because you had an affair with her boyfriend.” Steve continues.

“The one and only. Took me hearing her say those same disgusting words to Steve to remember where I had seen her before.” You answer for her. Peggy’s eyes shift quickly as she looks at everyone, thinking on her feet.

“For the record, Everly, Colin had me fooled as well. I thought he was single, granted newly single but I didn’t know you two were still together.” Peggy convincingly explains, but you know better. You know what you heard that day.

✨7 months ago✨

You just got home from work, dropping your keys in the bowl by the door and setting your bags down. You were suppose to go straight over to your parents house but you forgot your suitcase that morning before you left. You’ll need it for the week away so you just decide to stop by the apartment and grab it before you head out, maybe get a little goodbye in with Colin before the long week you’ll be spending apart. Your first sign should have been the Colin’s shirt tossed over the back of the couch. He never leaves his clothes laying around like that because he knows how it bothers you. But you tell yourself it’s because he thinks he’s alone for the week, he’s probably just getting a head start on acting like a slob. The next should have been the open bottle of wine on the coffee table, because he knows how you hate wasting good wine. You tell yourself that he’s gonna come back and finish it. Sadly the one you couldn’t explain away, the one that stopped you in your tracks, the one that made you speechless, was the woman’s voice coming from behind the closed bedroom door. You hear Colin’s familiar sounds, the ones that make you melt, that make you respond in a similar ways. Sound that only you can pull from him. Yet now in your bed, in your room, in your apartment some other woman is pulling those sounds from his mouth. Your boyfriend, the one that just asked your dad for his permission to marry you. The boyfriend who always promised to never hurt you, is now breaking every trust he helped you rebuild and reopening every old scar he had helped heal. “Next time we are doing this at my place.” The woman says. ‘Next time?’ You think, ‘how long has this been going on?’ The mystery women continues. “I hate sleeping with you while there is a picture of the two of you on the damn wall.” You are enraged, ‘of course there are pictures of me and my boyfriend, in my damn house!’ You scream in your mind, doing your best to stay silent so you can hear what Colin says back.

“We have to stop this. This isn’t going anywhere, I love Everly.” Colin groans, hearing the pleasure in his voice. As he says they have to stop he pushes himself farther over the edge.

“I know, and I don’t care, touch me.” The woman answers back and then you hear her hushed moans. Your feet are moving before you can comprehend what’s happening. You swing open the bedroom door, letting it slam back again the wall. Colin jumps out of bed and stands next to it while facing the door. Meeting your gaze, he instantly feels regret and remorse but he knows better than to speak. You walk past him and grab your suitcase and the last couple things on your nightstand. There is a picture of you and Colin staring back at you as you turn to leave the room, all you do is take it off the wall and drop it to the ground. Glass breaks everywhere and the picture is ripped by the glass shards. You don’t look back as you walk down the hall and out the front door, not even caring to slam it. Tears fill your eyes on the elevator ride as you call your mom to tell her you are on your way home.

✨Present day✨

You cock your eyebrow and go in for the kill. “Oh really, Peggy?!? Because as you were actively fucking my boyfriend you said, and I quote, ‘Next time we are doing this at my place. I hate sleeping with you while there is a picture of you two on your damn wall.’ Then when he told you he loved me and that his affair with you wasn’t going anywhere you said, ‘I know, I don’t care. Touch me.” You walk closer to her. “You knew the whole time so don’t try and play sweet now!” You snap at her. “I just wanna know why?!” You ask. Natasha inching closer just in case she needs to restrain you from punching Peggy and getting kicked off the island. “Why did you go after Colin knowing he was taken. Why did you go after Steve knowing he was taken. What did I ever do to you?!!” You yell and Peggy crosses her arms as she shakes her head as she starts to walk away. “No! You don’t get to just walk away from this.” You chase after her, she turns around quickly and you two are face to face.

“I knew him first!” She yells. You stand your ground and refusing to look away. The group behind you shuffles and you hear Jake whisper to Wanda.

“Wait, so Peggy knew Steve too?” Wanda pats his face and quietly says ‘no’. Peggy rolls her eyes having heard Jake.

“I worked with Colin, we were sleeping together, nothing serious but I thought maybe we would eventually become something more. But then he starts going on and on about ‘the most amazing girl he’s ever met’. Even after fucking me, he was going on and on about you!” She screams. She takes a step back and you allow her that, giving her the space she needs if only for a moment. “About 2 years into our arrangement he stopped mentioning you so I thought, ‘this is my chance.’ So I made a move and he shot me down, saying he ‘had a lot on his mind’. He pushed me away and whenever I came over he wouldn’t even let me in his apartment.” Peggy looks off to the side and shakes her head. “Turns out you had already moved in. He had ‘a lot on his mind’ because you showed up on his doorstep one day begging for a place to stay. And because he was so in love with you, he folded to your every ask. He chose you over me and then for the next 3 years of my life I was kept at a distance- I had lost my friend! Because of you!” Your mind races with so many thoughts, connecting the dots and becoming even angrier. This time you choose quiet rage,

“I don’t care who knew him first, Peggy. He wasn’t with you when we started dating but you seduced him back into your arms. He’s not faultless in this, it’s his fault as much as it’s yours. So no explanation will make me ‘see things your way.’ You were sleeping with someone else’s man and you are trying to justify it, but there is no justification. And now you’re just being vindictive against me and going after Steve. Grow up, Peggy.” You turn and walk away, she tries to get the last laugh.

“You moved in while we were still- we were still something, Everly! You aren’t any better!” She yells, you spin around debating whether to tell the truth and spill sensitive information on camera.

“I had known Colin for 5 years. He knew about my previous relationship and when I needed help he let me move in. I had only been with Colin for 2 years when I caught the two of you together. There was a whole year between the end of your arrangement with him and when we started dating. So again, there is no explanation that makes anything you did okay.” You turn and walk away, past the others who throw glances towards Peggy and call after you as you walk away, heading into the villa and up to the bedroom.

You sit on the terrace overlooking the whole villa. Your knees tucked to your chest and your arms wrapped around your legs. Tears drip down your face and drop onto your legs as you silently cry. “Ugh Everly, get over it.” You say to yourself, “It’s been almost 7 months and he never even tried to apologize.” You hear a knock on the terrace door and your head turns to see who it is. He leans against the doorframe, his blue eyes are gentle and kind as he looks over you with concern. “Hi, Bucky.” You say quietly. He gently smiles and walks through the door closing it behind him.

“For the record Steve and I played rock, paper, scissors to see who would get to talk to you first.” He smiles as he sits next to you and you gently smile. “So don’t think he didn’t want to talk to you, cause he really did. He wanted to explain everything, but I wanted to check on you,” you meet his gaze and more tears fall. He lays his hand on your head and strokes your hair. “So how are you doing?” You let out a sad laugh.

“I’m angry, Bucky. At Peggy, at Colin, hell even a little at Steve.” You look at Bucky who is about to defend his friend. “And yes I know he was trying to get her to stop while still being respectful, but sometimes you just gotta be a little rude.” Bucky laughs and nods.

“Yeah, well Steve is rarely rude.” Bucky shrugs. “He can be stupid, stubborn, and jump into situations without really thinking, but he isn’t rude.” You wipe your eyes. “And he’d never hurt someone purposefully.” You take Bucky’s hand in yours and give it a squeeze. “Now, you wanna talk about everything that just happened?” You can’t help but laugh.

“Did you not hear the screaming match?” Bucky smiles and you look up at the sky, this beautiful summer night spoiled by so much anger.

“Just tell me this, what happened between you and Colin? Why would Peggy think you two were together before you were?” You turn and look at Bucky, something in your gut tells you to trust him. You take his left hand in yours, feeling his scars along his wrist and along his forearm, tracing them with your fingers. Bucky can see the struggle within you, knowing you are trying to decide whether to trust him or not. He draws his fingers across your palm and stays quiet, letting you work out what you want to do. You look up and just know, his eyes say it all, he won’t let you down.

“Colin let me move in with him because I was recovering and hiding from my abusive ex-boyfriend. Colin helped put me back together and restored my trust in people.” You wipe a tear again and Bucky decides to push.

“What happened, with your ex? If you don’t mind me asking.” You hold his hand tighter.

“He left me for dead on our kitchen floor when I tried to leave him and when I didn’t die he promised he would find me and make sure he finished the job.” You refuse to look at Bucky, you don’t want his pity and that’s how everyone looks at you when you tell them about Brock.

“Look at me, Everly. Please?” Bucky asks, his voice soft. You look and his gaze almost heals the pain in your heart at that moment. “I am so sorry- no Woman- no one should ever have to go through that. I am glad you got away and I am happy that for a moment someone was able to help you heal from the damage he did. I’m sorry he didn’t turn out to be much better though.” Your tears start to fall and Bucky pulls you into a hug. His hands rubbing your back, calming you down. You suddenly remember that you are surrounded by cameras, and you only just met Bucky that morning. You quickly sit up and look at him with wide eyes.

“Sorry I-“ you scoot away and blush as you take a breath. “Umm thank you for your help, really it as very kind.” You sigh as you stand up. “I should probably find Steve, get all this settled before bed.” You go to walk away and Bucky stands up, catching your hand. Making sure he doesn’t pull or grip you too tight.

“Hey, just-“ he pulls you close, “come here real quick.” He gives you a hug, you feel safe and seen. You both take in a deep breath and enjoy the moment before he pulls back and squeezes your shoulders. “If you ever need to talk, I’m here, Everly. I meant what I said earlier, I’m not bowing out so easily.” He takes a respectable step back and then kisses your hand. “I’ll go get Steve and send him up here, it will give you two some privacy.” He drops your hand and walks to the door before he leaves you softly call after him.

“Bucky?” He hums in response as he turns around. “Thank you for listening.” Bucky’s eyes light up and you can’t help but smile.

“You’re welcome, Everly. Anytime. Steve will be right up.” And with that Bucky disappears down the stairs.

You sit on the bench staring up at the moon. Bucky is the first person you’ve told since Colin, and that decision feels so right you didn’t feel the need to tell him ‘don’t tell anyone.’ You feel safe with Bucky, a feeling and emotion that eventually came back after a lot of professional help. You went to therapy after you left Brock, Colin made you. He said you needed to talk to a professional, so you made weekly appointments. Doing the work and seeking help along with Colin being there for you was healing and exactly what you needed. He helped when you needed him most and you can’t imagine that time without him. Getting over him wasn’t hard though. Maybe it was because of the betrayal or because you had fallen for him because he was your ‘savior’, but when your phone didn’t ring with his thousand apologies and no flowers came to beg for you back, you didn’t break. Losing him hurt and adjusting to single life again was hard but there wasn’t a day that went by where you missed him. What you had? Sure, but actually missing Colin? No. You left the apartment that day and never looked back. He was sweet and kind but he was human and he made mistakes, him not even trying to fix them made you aware of just how ‘human’ he was. “Everly?” Steve’s voice calls you out of your thoughts. You straighten up and motion for him to join you. “Look, I want to apologize for what you saw- no, for what I’d did, or what I didn’t do.” You give him a weak smile and he turns to face you. “I shouldn’t have allowed myself to be alone with her knowing how she felt about me. I should have tried harder to push her away. Look I know what I said earlier, I found her intriguing and I was into her but hearing about what she did to you. I can confidently say my head is firmly turned to you.” You let out a laugh and look down at the ground, “which I know sounds like the stupidest things to possibly say at this moment but I just need you to know her stunts didn’t do what she wanted them to. In fact they put me more off of her.” He takes your hands in his and his eyes are pleading with you to believe him.

“I believe you, Steve.” Your place your hand on the side of his face and brush your thumb over his cheek. “Honestly all of the emotions tonight had more to do with the past rather than what Peggy did today.” Steve furrows his brow and you smile a little. “I mean you are sweet and I really do hate that she moved in on you, but we have known each other for 12 hours so I can’t be as mad as I was with Colin.” Steve nods and laughs.

“Yeah, I get that.” His eyes soften and he brushes your cheek with his thumb, copying the movement you just did to him. “12 hours or not, I really do like you. And I really really want to start over with you. Forget Peggy, forget all the drama. What do you say?” Your breath catches and your gaze shifts to the ground and then back at him.

“I’d like that, but there are a few things you should know before we start over.” Steve nods.

“I’m all ears.” He leans back and drops his arm across the back of the bench.

“I need you to know that I was never with Colin while he was involved with Peggy. I didn’t know her- never even saw her, but I knew about her. Colin would mention her from time to time but she never came over and he never went out. I thought they worked together and had a fling.” You take another breath before looking at him. You see the same trusting gaze that you found with Bucky. So you decide to tell him, “And the reason I moved in with him was because my ex boyfriend beat me so bad I almost died, Colin helped me hide, my ex didn’t know about him so I was safe there. I was safe with him, until I wasn’t.” You see Steve straighten up and clench his fist. “He didn’t hurt me, physically. He just- when I needed him to be better he couldn’t be.” You meet Steve’s gaze and it’s different. Bucky’s healed you, Steve’s is strengthening you, both as important as the other.

“Is this creep still alive?” Steve asks, his jaw clenched. You feel oddly comfortable with him so you reach out and pat his thigh as you lightly laugh.

“Umm no, actually.” Steve glances at you. “He worked on some special forces thing. Secret government mission and all, he didn’t make it home and he had me listed as his ‘family’ so I got the notice.” You sigh and Steve nods. “He was killed in action right around the time Colin and I started dating..” A flash of something passes over Steve’s face. He quickly looks at you, you can’t quite figure out why he has that look.

“What was his name?” He asks. You are taken aback and you shake your head, thrown by his question, why does he care what his name was?

“Brock, Brock Rumlow.” The name sends shivers down your spine. Steve nods, there is a flash of something in his eyes and then it’s gone. He nods and then takes your hands.

“I’m sorry but I’m glad he can’t hurt you anymore.” You reach out and rub his shoulder and let your hand fall on his chest.

“Me too, Steve.” His eyes are soft and his smile is sweet, he leans in and gives you a gentle kiss. You let him linger for a moment before you gently push him away. “Steve?”

“I’m sorry,” he apologizes as he leans his forehead against yours. “you said you had ‘a few things’ you wanted to talk about.” You nod, “I’m guessing this one is about Bucky.” You nod again and Steve nods too. He kisses your head and then sits back. “Even if my head isn’t turned anymore, yours still is.”

“Yeah, it is.” You admit. Steve looks up at the sky, the stars shining bright. He smiles and then looks at you.

“Well, I’ve never been one to back down from a challenge. In fact I’m kinda known for running in head first.” He smirks and you can’t help but laugh.

“Yeah, Bucky mentioned something about you being Stubborn.” You wink and Steve laughs.

“Stubborn and not willing to give up on something I believe in.” He scoots closer to you. “And I believe we could have something pretty amazing.”

“Oh do you?” You ask teasing him.

“I do,” he takes your face in his hands. “And I’m willing to put my actions where my mouth is.” He kisses you as he wraps his arms around your waist. You smile against his lips and then pull back. “So, bedtime?” Steve asks and you bite your lip and nod.

“Yeah, let’s head inside.” You pull away but take his hand. Steve stops you for a moment. “Are we okay, Everly?” You squeeze his hand and he takes that as a yes. You lead him downstairs and into the bedroom where the others are getting ready for bed.

“OooOOooo” you hear someone calling, you turn and you see Natasha basically catcalling Bucky. He smirks as he strides past everyone already lounging in bed. His black boxer briefs clinging to him in all the right places. All day and you never noticed how toned his thighs are or maybe you did but you were trying to be respectful. He meets your gaze and he winks before he jumps onto the bed with Natasha. She laughs and flings a pillow into his stomach which he promptly tosses back at her. You giggle and look at Steve who is just shaking his head as he laughs.

“I’m gonna get changed.” You tell him as you head off to the closet. Foot steps hurry behind you and you prepare yourself for another round with Peggy. To your surprise, it’s Natasha and Wanda.

“Okay, you have to spill everything!” Wanda gushes and sits at one of the vanities. Natasha sits next to her and backs up her statement.

“Yeah, dish on what took so long with the beautiful, buff twins over there.” Natasha sits back and smirks. A blush rises on your cheeks and you can’t hide the smile breaking on your face.

“Bucky came and talked to me first. He was really sweet and just wanted to check on me, make sure I was okay.” You fidget with your pajamas in hand. “Then It was Steve’s turn, he wanted to make sure we were okay, explain himself and apologize.” Natasha nods and looks at Wanda.

“Okay so where do you stand with him?” She asks as she leans forward.

“Well, I believe him when he says he isn’t into her anymore and the stunt she pulled makes him that more turned off by her.” You are quiet for a moment and the two ladies let you sit in your thoughts for a moment. “I told them both about my past, which I can’t talk about anymore tonight but I promise to fill you both in,” Wanda gets up and hugs you and Natasha squeezes your hand as you wipe a little tear away with the other. “I was honest with him that even though I am with him my head is still turned a little by Bucky.” You glance at Natasha and she smiles.

“Hey, I’ll be honest, my head is a little turned by everyone here.” She shrugs. “So you aren’t hurting my feelings saying that.” You laugh and look around.

“I feel horrible that my drama made the first day end so abruptly.” You sit down on the floor and they both join you.

“No!” Wanda exclaims, “it was Peggy and her vindictive ways! If she had just played the game like the rest of us you could have gone the whole summer never having known! But she wanted to get under your skin, she wanted to create the drama. Don’t feel bad for defending yourself.” Wanda states. You sniffle and thank her.

“So how are you and Jake?” You ask and Wanda blushes, she looks around to make sure no one got up to eavesdrop. She leans in and whispers.

“He is so dreamy!” She gushes. You and Natasha laugh and tease her a little.

“Oh look at Wanda, ready to walk off the island already!” Natasha pokes at her and she blushes.

“Well not quite. But he has potential! I’m ready to flirt my ass off tomorrow and really work at getting to know him.” She says proudly. “Natasha, what is your plan?”

Natasha glances at you and then back at Wanda.

“You know I’m not sure. I have to be honest, I might put in the flirt tomorrow on Steve, see where it goes. Respectfully of course!” She looks to you and you smile. You lean your head on her shoulder.

“Thank you for telling me and not doing it behind my back.” You say as you squeeze her arm in yours and sigh. “I’m gonna test the waters with Steve and Bucky tomorrow, see if sparks start flying, you know?”

“Yes!” Wanda yells too loudly.

“Absolutely!” Natasha agrees. Steve and Bucky come running in.

“Everything okay?” Bucky asks, looking between the three women. You blush and the other two just laugh and nod.

“Yup! We’re perfect Buck! Now go lay down!” Natasha shoos him away. Steve and Bucky can hear the laughter and giggles as they walk away from the closet. Steve pulls Bucky to the side and motions for him to follow. Bucky does and ends up in the stairwell with Steve.

“Did Everly tell you about her past? About her Ex?” Steve asks, leaning against the wall.

“Colin?” Bucky questions.

“No,” Steve looks to make sure no one is listening. “About the one who-“ Bucky cuts him off.

“Oh, yeah,” her nods and looks to the ground. “Yeah she did. I was about three seconds away from asking for his address cause ‘I just wanna talk’. God what an asshole.” Bucky says as he crosses his arms. He sits on the top stair and Steve settles on the stair two down from him.

“Well, he’s dead.” Steve says, gaging Bucky’s reaction.

“Good riddance!” Bucky almost cheers, Steve stops him, shushing him a little and leaning in closer.

“It was Rumlow, Buck.” Steve says, his jaw clenched. Bucky’s heart stops for a moment, the memories flooding back to him. He hangs his head in his hands and rubs his face before he looks up to meet Steve’s gaze.

“Were they together before he died?” The tension in Bucky’s voice is painful, Steve knows he is holding back so he doesn’t put a hole in the wall.

“Yeah, from what she told me, it sounded like there was only a year between their break up and when he died.” Steve explains, examining his own hands, there is a scar across his knuckles from where he had taken out his anger on the very man they are speaking about. Bucky has a few knife scars from him as well.

“So,” Bucky is finally putting all the pieces together. The ones that Steve put together as he talked with you on the terrace. “The woman he would brag about and show photos of, was Everly.” Steve nods. “And the woman he said was an ‘obedient bitch’, was Everly.” Steve leans his head back against the wall. “And the Woman you and I tried to find and save from him because we were tired of hearing his stories about how he hurt her, that woman was Everly.” Steve look at Bucky and nods, a slight tear in his eye.

“Yeah, Buck.” Steve confirm/ his voice breaking. “She was dating him during that time so unless he was cheating on her, then yeah.” Bucky hangs his head again and Steve look up at the ceiling. “God, I hope he was cheating on her.” Steve whispers, Bucky can’t believe it but he agrees with Steve, hoping against all odds that you weren’t the woman Brock would talk about. “This incredible woman has been hurt enough, the last thing I want to do is end up in a fight over her especially if it could cost me my best friend.” Bucky looks at Steve and nods. “I can’t deny what you two have, I can see it. Had she walked out first she would have chosen you.” Bucky goes to interrupt but Steve won’t let him. “Yet I can’t help but feel a connection with her, Buck.” Steve sighs, “I’m not gonna back down. I’m not gonna be macho, alpha man and ‘stake my claim on her’ but I’m also not gonna give up without a honorable fight. So may the best man, Win.” Bucky laughs to himself and nods. He reaches a hand out and shakes Steve’s while they stand up.

“I intend to, Stevie!” He jokes and Steve laughs, patting his back and heading off to the bedroom.

“So Everly, are you gonna wear a sexy little outfit tonight? Or are you sleeping alone?” Wanda asks. You look at your options and decide to throw caution to the wind.

“You know what?! Why the hell not!” You grab a little black Teddie. It’s lace but not seen through and still leaves quite a bit to the imagination.

“What about this?” You hold it up to get their opinions. You Wanda squeals and Natasha smirks.

“Well now I want to cuddle in bed with you.” Natasha teases and you laugh, giving her hip a bump with yours.

“And I want to wash and borrow it!” Wanda says. You laugh.

“We will see!” You say and Wanda takes that as a yes. They both get quiet and go stone cold, you turn to see what caused it, Peggy stands in the doorway, all changed and ready for bed. She puts her stuff down and heads into the bedroom. You hear Steve’s voice say, ‘Absolutely not, we can talk in the morning in clear view of others.’ You hear her shuffle away and settle on a bed, looking back at Natasha and Wanda, you can’t help but smile a little.

“Bet that felt nice to hear Stevie say.” Natasha says, teasing Steve in the process with his little nickname. You nod and beam at her.

“It really did. Now you two go to bed, I need to shower and I’ll meet y’all in there.” They shuffle to bed and leave you to it. It’s the quickest shower of your life and you rush through some of your steps, not wanting to keep everyone up even later, the lights won’t go off till everyone is in bed. You braid your hair and step into your slippers. You give yourself one final check and make your way out to the bedroom. You expect to find everyone asleep but instead everyone is awake and talking. Except when they see you. The boys stop talking and their jaws drop. You feel slightly bad because even Jake is putting his glasses back on to get a good look at you.

“Wow, Everly. You look-“ Steve starts to say but is interrupted.

“Stunning” Bucky says, his eyes gleaming as he looks at you.

“Incredible” Sam admits as he sits up in bed.

“Wow,” is all Jake says before he turns back to Wanda and gives her a sheepish look. She pats his face and then takes his glasses back off.

“You had your look, now bed.” She says and Jake blushes before he snuggles up to Wanda, but not before throwing another glance your way. Steve lifts your side of the covers and you slip off your slippers and climb into bed with him. You notice he is shirtless and he has the same type of boxer briefs that Bucky has. They are tight in all the right places and you want to get a better look, maybe later. You see a steady blush creep up on Steve’s cheeks and it spreads down his neck and across his chest. It’s really cute and you wonder if that blush spreads everywhere or if it just stops at his peck.

“Hi,” he whispers as you two lay down and he pulls the covers over you both. The lights finally go out and there is a collective sigh of relief. Steve reaches out and brushes your hair back from your face, grazing his thumb across your cheek.

“Hi,” you answer back. You move a little closer.

“I want to be respectful, so I want to ask,” he takes a breath, “do you want to cuddle? Or would you rather your own space tonight. I don’t mind either way.” You bite your lip as you think, a cuddle wouldn’t be so bad, would it? Besides, it’s been months since you were last cuddled.

“I’d love a cuddle.” You admit, you can see Steve’s smile even in the dark. You go to turn over to be the little spoon when Steve stops you.

“Oh, you know- I’m kinda the little spoon usually.” You can’t hide the shock on your face. You shouldn’t have assumed but he did offer the cuddles so you naturally thought he’d be the one holding you. You try to find you voice but he soon is laughing and pulling you close into his big arms. “Sorry I had to,” you laugh and poke his side before you turn over.

“Not funny.” You pretend to pout. He laughs and kisses your head.

“It was a little funny.” He says and you have to agree. For the first time in months you fall asleep in a man’s arms and you don’t worry about your safety, wellbeing, or if he’s cheating on you. It’s been one heck of a day and it’s only day one. You just pray the rest of the summer isn’t as exciting.

Next

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[pensat-i-fet]

Attention seekers (Pedri x Reader)

**I got this request and my writer’s block suddenly disappeared. Funny that, right? 👀🤷 Anyways, the story is set in lockdown-ish times but that isn’t the plot but what kickstarts the plot. Hope you guys enjoy it!! ❤️❤️ **

Word count: 3115

Masterlist

Wattpad

“So it’s cancelled? Yeah, I get it. Hopefully, you won’t feel too bad. See you soon”.

You hung up the phone feeling so annoyed by the change of plans. After all the months of lockdown, it was possible to travel again and you had planned a trip with your uni friends. But now one of them tested positive and both she and all the others had to stay home. You didn’t see them since your exams were done, so you knew you were fine but…what were you going to do for your holidays now? Your family was going on a cruise with some friends of the family and you couldn’t think of a more boring plan.

“What’s wrong, princess? You look sad”, said your dad when he saw you sitting down, phone still in your hand.

“My holidays have been cancelled because all my friends have to quarantine. I guess I’ll stay here. There are worse places to be”.

“Come with us. There’s room for one more”.

“I don’t like cruises, dad. Besides, you’re travelling with people I don’t even know”.

“Nonsense”, he said, and you could tell he was not going to change his mind. “You know them. We used to be with them all the time”.

“Yes, when I was a baby. I don’t remember any of it”.

“Well, they are great so why don’t you come with us to Barcelona to see them and then if you don’t want to go on the cruise, you can come back here and be all alone. But give it a try”.

“Ok”, you said, rolling your eyes. It wasn't as if you had better plans.

                                       **

A lot of the stricter restrictions had been lifted, but you still needed to quarantine before travelling abroad. So the families’ plan was to stay at the house of one of the kids in Barcelona since that’s where the cruise will be leaving from. It was apparently big enough for all of you because he was a rich football player now. You couldn’t care less about those things.

“I can’t believe you don’t remember Pedri”, said your mum.

“I do”, laughed your sister.

“Well, you’re older…”.

“Yes, and I also remember because you two were so funny together. You were either throwing things at him or trying to kiss him”.

“Don’t say that in front of him”, you told her but her smirk told you she was going to tell him the moment she could bring it up.

“I’m sure you’ll get on well, honey. He’s a great kid and so is his brother”.

You nodded at your dad’s words, already bored of hearing so much about Perfect Pedri. It was going to be a long trip for sure.

When you got to his house you couldn’t lie and pretend you weren’t impressed. He really was doing well. And also, a big house meant it was easier to avoid people you didn’t want to see so it worked for you.

After all the greetings and all the “oh my God! I can’t believe how tall and pretty you are!” comments, you excused yourself to your room. People never realised how shy you actually were and being surrounded by strangers, even if they weren’t completely strangers, wasn’t so easy for you. Plus the heartbreak of missing out on your dream holidays with your friends was still too recent.

After a little nap, you decided to head to the kitchen to ask when dinner was going to be ready and if they needed any help. But the moment you left the room, you bumped into a body and your phone fell to the floor.

“Sorry”, said Pedri, reaching for your phone and taking a quick look at the screen before giving it back to you. “Carlos? Is that your boyfriend?”

“No. Give that back”.

“Sure. I was sent to tell you dinner will be ready soon”.

“Ok, thanks”.

You tried to move but he got in your way. What was his problem?

“I remember you”.

“I don’t remember you”, you said back, trying to walk again but he was still blocking the way.

“Our parents got the photo album out. You would like to see some of the photos. There are a lot of just you and me. It looked like we were good friends and seeing them made me remind you”.

“Great! I guess my sister already told you about me hitting and kissing you. Glad I wasn’t there to be embarrassed”.

“Kissing me?”

Crap.

“Let’s go eat”.

You managed to leave that uncomfortable conversation and made your way downstairs, trying to remember the way to the kitchen. The last thing you needed was to get lost.

“You were nicer in my memories”.

                                            **

Being stuck at home was a familiar feeling for everyone now but when it was someone else's house…

"We could go read in the garden", offered your sister.

"Sure, let me pick up my Kindle".

Everyone else was also in the garden, of course. You walked past Pedri and Fer and saw they were playing football.

"Doesn't he get bored of kicking a ball all the time?", you asked your sister but it was Pedri who answered.

"No, I don't. Do you want to play with us?"

You looked away, shaking your head and heading to the chairs where you could do some reading.

"It's like a reversal of what used to happen", said Fer, laughing at his brother's expression.

"What do you mean?"

"As kids. She was always following you around and trying to get your attention. Now it's you doing that".

"I'm not doing anything. Just trying to make her feel welcome".

"I saw your face when she got here yesterday. You didn't believe me when I told you how pretty she was…but now you do and want some of her attention".

"Whatever. Besides, she has a boyfriend".

"She does? Her parents said she didn't".

Pedri thought about the messages he saw on your phone when he picked it up. Whoever Carlos was, he was definitely flirting with you and you were flirting back. So boyfriend or not, you had your eyes on someone.

"I thought we were going to read".

"Huh?"

"You're glued to your phone. Who are you talking with?"

"No one", you said. Because you weren't, really. You were just checking if Carlos had answered any of your messages but he hadn't.

He had tested negative and you offered to go back to Castellón to be with him but ever since you said that…silence.

"Is it Carlos?"

"Just leave it! Stop getting in my business!"

You didn't want to raise your voice but your sister was always trying to get you to talk about everything. And you didn't like that. The more people tried to pry into your life, the less you wanted to share any details with anyone. Why couldn't they understand you would talk when you felt comfortable?

When you got to the kitchen, you bumped into Pedri again.

"Are you following me or something?"

"What? I was getting an ice cream from the kitchen. Do you want one? It's getting really hot".

You shook your head, walking into the kitchen when you noticed him grabbing your arm to stop you.

"You don't have to run away from me. I don't bite".

"I guess you are used to the fangirls following you everywhere but I'm not doing anything because of you. I just want to be alone".

Pedri was getting annoyed by the way you treated him.

"Have you seen my sister?"

"Yes, she went inside after letting me know again how much she dislikes me".

"Why would she dislike you?", asked your sister, surprised he was saying that.

"She barely looks at me when I speak to her, always being so…I don't know, arrogant and cold".

"Don't take it personally. She's really shy and struggles with new people".

Pedri nodded. He guessed that made sense.

"And��she wasn't supposed to be here. She was going on a trip with her friends but one is sick and the rest are quarantining. And the guy she likes is a dick".

That caught his attention. "Is he?"

"Yes. He's always leading her on and then stops talking to her for weeks. Until he's bored again and wants some attention. But if I try to tell her she gets mad at me. Like she's right now. And also, she had a bad experience with a football player".

"When? What happened?"

Your sister laughed again, remembering how mad you had been. "She's studying to be a journalist in Castellón and got to do an interview with a Villarreal player for an assignment. He was…well, asshole doesn't begin to cover how he was. So her opinion of you guys is a bit tainted".

Pedri nodded, noticing his ice cream was starting to melt and used that as an excuse to go back to the garden.

He didn't expect you to be so complex. Thinking you were just being bitchy to him for no reason was easier but now he was intrigued. And not just because you were pretty like his brother said.

                                          **

[You]: do you know if you're going back to Castellón or not yet?

You didn't expect an answer from Carlos, seeing the last 5 texts in the conversation all came from you and he had left you on read all 5 times.

[Carlos]: can you Facetime?

[You]: yes!!

You ran to the bathroom quickly to check how you looked before running back to the bed to answer his call.

"Hey! How are you?"

"Been busy. You?"

"Bored", you laughed. "Can you save me from going on this boring cruise, please?"

Carlos didn't have time to say more before you heard a knock on your door.

"What?"

"We are going shopping", said Pedri. "Do you need anything from the supermarket?"

"I don't know. I'm busy now …".

"We are leaving now. Don't complain later about us getting the wrong milk or whatever".

"Who's that?", asked Carlos.

"The guy who owns this house, he…", another knock. "Pedri! I'm on the phone. Leave me alone!"

"Pedri? Like the Barça player".

"Not like", you said, rolling your eyes. "The Barça player".

Carlos' face annoyed you. He was looking at the screen as if you were stupid.

"Sure. You know famous players and stay in their houses. Right".

You got up and walked to the door, opening it and finding Pedri there, waiting.

"Look", you said, pointing the camera at him.

"Who's that?", tried to ask Pedri before Carlos lost it.

"Oh my God! It's really you. I'm a big fan, man. Can you sign a shirt for me?"

He guessed that was Carlos and between what your sister told him and the way he heard him talk to you, he was already bored of seeing his stupid face.

"I don't have any shirts here. Sorry", he said, tone dry.

"I could send one. Or I can go visit you guys in Barcelona if you are friends".

Pedri's response was to move your phone away from his face and look at your surprised face.

"Do you want something or not? We can't be here all day waiting for you to be done talking to your boyfriend".

"He's not my boyfriend".

"Good. You deserve better", he said, loud enough for Carlos to hear.

When he left, you closed the door and went back to your bed.

"Well, he's a dick".

"I have to go, Carlos".

"Are you coming to Castellón then? I'm bored. No one is here".

Yes. You deserved better.

"No. I'll stay with my family".

You picked up your mask and ran downstairs, hoping they hadn't left yet.

"Can I go with you?", you asked Pedri and his mum, who were on their way out.

"If you want to go, I'll stay. I'm really tired", said his mum, leaving you two alone.

"Are you driving?"

He nodded and you followed him to his car.

"I'm sorry about Carlos. He's…well, he …".

"He's an asshole".

"Yeah", you said, looking away.

"I'm sure you can do better than someone like him".

"You're more optimistic than me, then", you said, laughing sadly.

"Why do you say that?"

"The last months have been tough".

"You could say", he said, making you laugh.

"I mean, apart from that. I'm shy and meeting new people drains my energy. So going to a new uni, and meeting new people, …it was hard enough before lockdowns and all that. And I guess I've been guilty of just settling for the first person who is nice to me a few times".

"It can happen to anyone".

You looked at him and saw no judgment in his face.

"How was it for you? Moving to Barcelona, I mean. Leaving your teammates to meet new ones. I guess it's a bit similar to changing schools".

"It was hard at the beginning. I can be shy too but it's better now. The squad is really nice. I got lucky".

"That's good to hear".

You kept driving to the supermarket in silence but thankfully it was a short drive.

"I have a list", said Pedri showing you his phone, "but get whatever you want".

It was your first time shopping there so you just followed him and kept putting things you liked in the trolley. Then you noticed him moving and hiding behind you.

"What? Did you see an ex or something?", you asked, trying not to laugh.

"Worse, a group of kids with Barça shirts. I don't mind them asking for photos but you are here too".

"I don't mind either…".

"They'll say I was with my girlfriend if they see us together".

"Oh…right. Keep hiding then".

You couldn't help but laugh seeing him scan the aisles before walking.

"Pe…", you started to say his name but were freaked out like him, so you grabbed his arm instead. "Sorry for being so rude to you. I…it's no excuse but I don't know how to interact with people sometimes and get all snappy".

"It's ok. Your sister told me".

She did?

"I'm sorry anyway".

You couldn't see his mouth because of the mask, but the way his eyes wrinkled told you he was smiling and that made you smile back.

Maybe the holidays weren't going to be that bad.

                                          **

The days after your trip to the supermarket were pretty uneventful. You still had to stay home and spent most of the time in the garden but the tension you felt staying at Pedri's surrounded by people you didn't know disappeared. Your parents were happy to see you were being more confident and just the normal you they knew and loved.

"Now that we have sunscreen there is no excuse. We're working on our tan, little sis".

Yeah, well…that was an excuse because you didn't want to wear a tiny bikini in front of everyone. The beach was one thing but the garden? It felt weird. But only to you because everyone else had been just wearing swimwear all day. Everyone but you.

"I don't know…".

"The green one", she said, ignoring you while she looked into your suitcase. "It looks so good on you".

Tired of the comments about how you were boiling under the clothes, you took the bikini from her hands and put it on.

You wrapped a towel around your body and followed your sister to the garden. Pedri and Fer were in the kitchen making some drinks for everyone. You put the towel on the grass while they were carrying the trays out and if it wasn't for Pedri's dad's good reflexes, the tray his youngest son was holding would have ended up on the floor.

"Careful!"

"Sorry", he said, looking away from where you stood, applying sun cream to your body.

Fer noticed the reason for the near accident and chuckled.

"Ask her if she needs help applying cream on her back".

"Shut up".

But no matter how much he pretended to not be affected by your presence, everyone noticed. And after many whispers that confused you, they managed to find a way to leave you two alone in the garden.

"And then there were two", you joked.

"Yeah", now it was his turn to act shy.

"Am I going to have to throw things at you like when I was a kid? To get your attention?"

"I'd prefer if you tried to kiss me again”, he muttered.

"What did you say?"

"Nothing. I'm just distracted, I guess".

"I think I get now why people get annoyed when I don't look at them while I speak. It's pretty unnerving when you do it".

He took a deep breath and turned to look at you.

"It's hard to look at you right now".

"Am I that ugly? Really?", you joked but he didn't laugh.

He shook his head and you noticed him looking at you. Really looking at you. His eyes going from your head to your toes and then back to your head again.

"I don't want to make you uncomfortable when you notice you're almost making me drool".

"Am I?"

Now he nodded, looking at your face to try and see your reaction.

"I'm not uncomfortable. You can keep looking".

He nodded again. "You can look too".

That made you laugh. "I've been looking for a couple of days. Keep working on the gym. The results aren't half bad".

After your little confession, Pedri put a towel next to yours to lie down. And you both talked about the most random things. Just entertaining each other. His company felt nice. Way nicer than Carlos' ever felt and that only showed you how much you were wasting your time trying to impress him.

"Dinner is almost ready, kids", said your mum. "Why don't you get ready? We're watching a movie afterwards if you want to join us".

Pedri got up and offered you a hand to do the same, which you took. Wrapping your towel around your body again, you followed him inside the house.

It was back to walking in silence until you got to your room.

"See you in a bit", he said when you opened the door. But instead of getting inside and closing it, you grabbed his arm to pull him inside with you. "What …".

"I wanted your attention so I thought, should I throw something at him again? But then I realized it would be rude to do that in your own house and I'm rambling again because being shy sucks".

He was biting his lip, trying not to laugh.

"So anyways, I'll do this instead", you finished saying before kissing him.

"I don't think you have my full attention, sorry. Maybe try again?"

[prince-rowan-of-the-forest]

Where the Wild Wildflowers Grow

----

Roman and Remus Crowfeather had been borrowing in the witch's house since before they could remember. With no parents or others of their kind they were alone, which was fine because they had each other. They looked after each other, they didn’t need anyone else.

And of course, that was when a rather annoying brownie fae who went by Vee (and nothing more, supposedly) came into their life. Another tiny resident in the house was certainly an adjustment to the twins, and despite the brownie’s friendship with the bean who owned the house, they were able to remain hidden.

That was until, one fateful day, an exiled leafman arrived at their door seeking shelter and safety. The twins had never met someone like Janus before, but he had sustained injuries they couldn’t heal and bore a curse they couldn’t break - even with Vee’s help. So in the end they have to break the one law they knew of their people and turn to Patton and his partner for help. Luckily for them, the witch isn’t exactly the squishing type.

----

| Ao3 |

----

Warnings: injuries.

Pairings: Roceit, background Logicality

Word Count: 9326

Notes:

Hello everyone!!!! This is my fic for the @sandersidesbigbang !!!!

I'm so excited about sharing this one with you guys! It's a very cute little fic about little tiny borrower guys :3

Huge thanks to my beta reader

@edupunkn00b

And of course a HUGE thank you to the wonderful artists who worked on this with me: @nonsensicalollie and @glacierruler ! You guys should absolutely go and check out their works!! (I'll update these links to go directly to their works once they've posted!)

Please leave a reblog and a comment if you enjoyed this fic! I'd really appreciate it <3

----

“You can’t go out in that,” Remus said, looking him over and putting his hands on his hips. Roman gasped. 

“You of all people can’t tell me I can’t go out in this,” Roman said, glaring at him as he tugged on the cut of red fabric he had fashioned into a cape, longer on one side. He personally thought it was really pretty, and he’d spent ages in front of the shard of smashed mirror he had managed to retrieve a few weeks ago getting it perfect, and now Remus was telling him he couldn’t wear it?

Remus huffed, glaring at him, “You can wear it, but you’ll fall straight on your face as soon as we go out, you know that right?”

“No, I won’t,” Roman protested, crossing his arms, his tail swishing behind him in annoyance.

“Suit yourself,” Remus shrugged. “We’re just after food today,”

“Nothing fun?” Roman asked, hopping up onto the little ladder they had built and scrambling up to peek his head out of the little mouse hole they used to check the hallway - the easiest way to check whether the bean was home, since his shoes were there. “I think we’re good,” he said - the bean’s favourite pair of shoes were gone, which meant he was probably out-out and not just in the garden - there had been a few close calls with that before. 

“Okay - I mean hey, if we find anything fun we can go for it,” Remus shrugged, before tugging Roman off to the network of ladders and tunnels they had built in the walls to head towards the kitchen. Roman itched to check out the casting room - but he knew it would probably be a bad idea when they were just after food. Still… It was so tempting as they ran past the vent that led to the bean’s casting room - where he did all of his awesome witchy magic and kept his most fun little trinkets and knick knacks. Roman thought they were quite lucky to borrow from a witch, there were so many little things they were able to take - they could’ve gotten a lot less lucky, at least. Not only that - but from what Roman had seen the bean seemed quite kind - enough that Roman thought he might have a chance at talking his way out of being squished if he was found.

He didn’t want to risk it though. 

As he cast his eyes over the room he noticed something odd - that wasn’t usually there, was it? He wasn’t sure why it was there, or what it was. Maybe Remus would be interested. 

“Hey Ree - look at that,” He says, grabbing Remus’ tail to stop him before pointing through the vent, Remus sighed. 

“Kitchen first, and then whatever you’ve seen, ‘kay?” he said, giving Roman a look. Roman pouted - usually Remus was so much more open to fun stuff - but followed anyway. 

The kitchen was full of good spoils today. They had managed to get into one of the cupboards and now Roman’s bag was filled with whatever he could fit, Remus’ pack was equally filled with snacks before he was urging them to go back. As Roman ran across the counter back to their opening in the wall, something caught under his foot and he fell, landing straight on his face. Remus turned back to him with a smug look, because he had in fact just tripped over his cape. 

“What’d I tell ya?” Remus said, crossing his arms and looking down at him. Roman huffed. 

“That if I wore the cape I’d fall,” He said.

“Straight on your face, yup, and what happened?”

“....I tripped and fell on my face,” He said, upset. 

“Mhmmm,” Remus said, “Come on, up you get, we can’t hang around and you wanted to check out the magic room, remember?”

Roman grumbled and whined but finally stood up, brushing himself off and collecting the crumbs that had fallen from his bag when he fell before hopping back up the stack of books into the plant pot that they could use to climb back into the secret gap in the walls. Quickly they made their way back through the tunnels to the magic room. 

The room itself was always a bit of a mess. The bean lived in what seemed to be organised chaos, with jars and pots of things all over the place, bowls of crystals,jars of sea glass, jewellery, trinkets, bits and bobs of all shapes and sizes. They had an altar set up at the back of the room, and Roman knew that they used it often to talk to deities and do all sorts of things he didn’t understand. He passed a lot of time watching the bean go about their bean things, Remus didn’t approve of it, but he never got caught. 

Next to the altar was a large plate that Roman had never seen before. On top of it sat a small pot of honey - small enough that he and Remus could easily lift it together and enjoy it for days - a bowl of what looked like milk or maybe cream and a bunch of fruits and nuts and berries - it looked practically like a feast to Roman.

“Look,” he said, pulling his brother down to his level so he could see too, “Over there, by the candles, you see that plate?” 

“Oh - oooh yeah,” Remus said, eyes widening a little, “That could feed us for a week!”

“Going for it would be dangerous,” Roman pointed out - Remus hummed. 

“Yeah… and it’s in the magic room - that’s…. It could be meant for someone else.”

“Someone else? But we’re the only ones that tiny here!” Roman protested, who else could the little plate possibly be meant for. “Maybe the bean figured out there were little people here and wanted to leave stuff for us?”

“A bean wouldn’t do that,” Remus rolled his eyes, “They want to kill us, remember? Squish us like all of the little bugs they find.”

“The spiders? I think they’re just scared of spiders,” Roman pointed out, “But we’re not spiders, or bugs.”

“Hm - you wanna be squished like a bug? With all your insides and everything?” Remus asked, raising an eyebrow and making Roman wince. 

“Well - no - but they’re out right now, and you said it yourself, this could feed us for a week!” Roman said, excited, “Is it not worth the risk?”

“Well… yeah, let's go for it,” Remus grinned, going to push open the vent only for Roman to scream as something grabbed them both by the backs of their shirts - hoisting them off the ground. Roman shrieked. 

“What are you two up to?” Said what looked to be a very disgruntled fae, holding the two of them up to eye level - the creature was bigger than them, maybe a little under twice Roman’s height. Roman thought they resembled a squirrel, with large ears and little whiskers, plus a large bushy tail curled around his legs with fluffy dark brown fur - Roman squirmed, trying to get free. It seemed Remus was trying to do the same.

“We were just - looking -” Roman said quickly. The fae raised an eyebrow, Roman smiled awkwardly.

“At?”

“The plate of berries and honey on the table -” Roman admitted - he was pretty sure he’d heard somewhere that it was a bad idea to lie to fae, though Remus gave him a look like he’d just doomed both of them, so he wondered if it would be a better idea to have just shut up.

“Those are for me,” the fae said, frowning at the two of them, “Not you.”

“How do you know?” Remus challenged.

“They’re offerings, is that not obvious?”

“Well we’re the ones who live in this house!” Roman said, “How were we to know they weren’t for us to borrow?”

The fae huffed, seeming annoyed - at least that’s what Roman thought the flick of their tail meant, “The two of you aren’t the only folk who live here,”

“Well we’ve never seen you here before,” Roman said, Remus gave him a look which very clearly told him to shut up, but he’s pretty sure he had dug his own grave at this point already, why not keep digging?

“Just because you’ve never seen me doesn’t mean I wasn’t there, but I’ve only been here a few weeks, that’s why,” The fae rolled their eyes, “House magic keeps us concealed when we don’t want to be seen, you two on the other hand, are really loud .”

Roman huffed, turning his nose up, “Well we don’t have the help of some fancy magic.”

“You could at least keep your voices down,” the fae argued. 

“The bean can’t hear us, that’s all that matters,” Roman huffed. 

They went back and forth for about five minutes before Remus butted in. 

“So this is a great argument and all but like - can you put us down?” Remus said, “As much as I’d love for you to rip my shirt-”

“Shut up,” Roman said, before he could get any further with that sentence. The Fae looked unamused, but put them down anyway. With no care or grace, but at least Roman stood on his own two feet again. 

Once he had recovered from being hoisted into the air, Roman looked up at the creature in front of them, who stood with their arms crossed looking just a little menacing, “So… what’s your deal, anyway? Are you some sort of house spirit?”

“I’m a brownie ,” they corrected them gruffly, speaking like it was obvious. Roman honestly might’ve preferred being eye level, they were so much more intimidating looking down on them like this. 

“Like the food?” Remus asked, tilting his head.

“What? No - obviously not, do I look like a cake to you?” they spread their arms, Roman tried so hard not to giggle, he failed. 

“Well no, that’s why I had to ask,” Remus said, crossing his arms, “So what’s a brownie then?”

“A type of faerie who guards and looks after a house in return for offerings, which you two were about to steal-”

“Borrow,” Roman quipped, the brownie just gave him a look. Roman decided to shut up pretty quickly after that.

“-though my relationship with the humans who occupy this house is a little abnormal for a brownie.” they finished with an irritated look in Roman’s direction.

“We won’t take the offering,” Remus said eventually, after some consideration, “We didn’t know what it was, honest.”

“Are the two of you really that naive?” they asked, Roman shrugged.

“We’ve never really left the house before…” he admitted. 

“...And we don’t get close enough to the bean to hear his ramblings either so - yeah, kinda.” Remus finished.

The brownie seemed to hesitate then, before sighing, “Wow, okay, guess you two really are stupid-”

“Hey!”

“- I was going to say I can help you, but… well after how rude the two of you have been, I’m having second thoughts.”

“You’re the one who hoisted us into the air,” Roman said, “Besides, what did you mean when you said your relationship with the bean was ‘abnormal’ anyway?” Maybe he shouldn’t have mocked the faerie’s voice when quoting him, but he’d already done it now. 

The brownie sighed, “My apologies,” He said, though he didn’t sound apologetic at all, “That is none of your business.”

“Hey! This is our house!” Remus said, “We’ve been here our entire lives! You owe us answers.”

“I owe you nothing,” The faerie hissed, Roman elbowed Remus harshly.

“Shut up ,” Roman whispered, “Debts and stuff are a big deal to fae! Nothing’s actually been done to incur a debt from any of us!”

“You would do well to listen to your brother, little borrower,” The brownie said, still looking vaguely upset about the idea that they owed the two of them anything. Roman was glad Remus listened to him and backed off for once. 

Even then, though, Remus turned on him, “How the hell do you know that?” He asked. Roman sighed, hand coming up to rub his cheek. 

“I… eavesdrop on the bean’s conversations with his partner sometimes,” He admitted.

“You what? ”

“I make sure they can't see me! I stay safe and everything it’s just - interesting.”

“The ‘bean’ - as you refer to him - is quite unlike others,” the brownie said, deciding to sit down in the vent passage, Roman sat too - because he found the faerie being shorter than him was even more disconcerting than them being taller. 

“What do you mean?”

“I mean that even if the two of you were discovered, I doubt you would be in danger.”

“Well thanks, but I’d rather not take chances with my brother,” Remus said, giving a glare to the fae before grabbing Roman’s arm and pulling him back up to stand.

Roman protested, stumbling a little before looking back at the fae - who was watching with a raised eyebrow.

“Come on Ro - I don’t trust this guy one bit.”

“Rude,” the fae said, Roman tensed before sighing and shaking Remus’ hand off of his arm. 

“What’s your name?” He asked, before doubling back, “Wait - I can’t ask that, right? Fae have a thing about names - uh - do you have something I can call you?”

Luckily for them both, the faerie only seemed to look amused by that display, “You can call me Vee, but that’s all you’re getting.”

“Oh wonderful! That’s a lovely name,” Roman said, grinning. 

“It’s literally a letter,” Remus deadpanned, “You can call me Crow, if you have to.”

“And you can call me Feather,” Roman said, delighted by the prospect of this faerie being a potential new friend. 

—-

Vee quickly became a regular in their lives. To Roman, it started to feel almost like having a very sneaky older sibling. The brownie’s magic was odd. It allowed them to freely travel throughout the house without using their tunnels and passages, some of which would be too tight of a squeeze for them. It allowed them to pass through walls and get into places that were locked, they were able to open things far too big for them and close them the same way, it allowed them to make no noise at all unless they wanted to be heard. 

After the three of them got over the initial territory issues that came from sharing their spaces with each other, Vee became a staple in their life. Roman didn’t know how they had borrowed before, without the call outs and warnings from the brownie, without being let know when it was safe to come out. Vee would often open cupboards for them, or help them get up somewhere their ropes wouldn’t reach, sometimes they would even help out with their borrowing, finding useful things for them to take, though they would never take them themself. 

Even more intriguing - to Roman at least - was the fact that the bean knew that Vee was there. Obviously he knew this from the offerings that seemed to pop up every few days. When Vee was feeling generous they’d even give the two of them a few berries or fruit slices from the plate, on special occasions they would let the twins dip theirs in the honey before Vee took it. Roman didn’t know where Vee took the honey - but they definitely didn’t drink it in the house. Honey didn’t affect borrowers like it affected fae, but Roman had never seen Vee drunk, so he must’ve taken it out of the house to drink somewhere. 

Outside of that, though, Roman had occasionally spotted Vee interacting with the bean face to face. It was rare that it happened, and even rarer that Roman was there to notice (Vee preferred to keep to themself, in Roman’s observations). Every time he saw Vee talking to the bean, though, he had always felt terribly anxious, but it always seemed to end well. Roman didn’t know what it was, but the bean seemed to like - or maybe just respect? Vee. Was it because they were fae? Roman had no idea. That was probably the abnormal relationship they had mentioned the first time they had met. 

It had been a few months since the twins had met Vee and quickly they had settled into a new routine. Despite Remus’ suspicions, having the faerie around had benefited them both greatly, they had all the food they could want, they had been able to expand their little home, they now had separate bedrooms (they loved each other, but the bunk bed they had made years ago out of lollipop sticks and cotton wool had been getting old anyway). Their home had been very cramped before, and now Roman had his own space to build and sew and decorate in. that didn’t get in Remus’ way so much. Roman felt they owed a lot to their fae friend, but Vee had insisted that their debt had been paid simply by welcoming him into their home and befriending him as they had. It seemed that to Vee that was a good deed in of itself. 

That didn’t feel like enough, though, so when his pants snagged on a loose nail in a passage one day Roman offered to fix them up, and when he got stuck in a tunnel that was just a little too small for him Remus clawed at the edges until he was able to get free. They helped each other, whenever they needed it, and by the time a year had passed, Roman felt like the two of them had an older sibling. It was nice, in a way, even if Vee wasn’t blood - he wasn’t even a borrower - to have family. 

Life was perfect, Roman thought, he couldn’t wish for anything more. 

And of course that’s the moment where something more flies - or more like crash lands - into your life and changes everything.  

—-

It happened so fast Roman barely remembered it. One moment Vee was giving him a boost so he could snag some berries from the fruit bowl. Next, the window in the kitchen smashed, making Roman scream and Vee subsequently dropped him onto the counter. Luckily he was fine - he’d managed to stick the landing - but what the hell?

“What in the great blazes was that?” Remus asked, sounding just as bewildered as Roman felt. 

“Maybe someone threw a rock?” Roman says, staring at the shattered window in shock. 

“I don’t think so… I don’t see a rock - wait,” Vee said, hopping down from the counter and running across to the opposite one, nimbly picking their way across the counter where shards of broken glass were littered towards something else in the mess that glittered. Roman couldn’t see well enough to tell what it was until Vee lifted something - or rather some one - out of the glass. 

They were unconscious, and clearly injured. Once Virgil got them back to the twins so that they could get a closer look Roman could see much more clearly that part of their face was bubbling angrily with some kind of… Roman could only think to describe it as rot. Their eyes were closed, their skin was a golden brown and their hair was done up elegantly with the tiniest petal crown, but it was a beautiful blond that seemed almost iridescent. The wings, too, iridescent dragonfly wings that shimmered in a rainbow of colours whenever they were moved. One of the wings was broken. 

Roman was… quite enthralled. This person (Pixie? Leafman? Bugfolk? Roman had no idea). Enthralled enough that Remus had to elbow him in the ribs to bring his mind back to the current situation.

“Oh- uh - goodness - he looks hurt - we should - a bed, maybe, and some bandages?” Roman said, looking at Remus, who rolled his eyes and sighed.

“We don’t know what this guy’s deal is, he could be staging all of this just to jump up and murder us with his magical powers later,” Remus said, staring judgmentally at the poor thing in Vee’s arms. Vee sighed. 

“He looks to be a leafman,” they said, looking at the two of them, “A protector of the forest - I - couldn’t possibly tell you what he’s doing here in this state, but he’s probably looking for help.”

“What happened to his face?” Remus asked, reaching to poke at it before Roman slapped his hand away.

Remus pouted and Roman sighed, “Don’t just touch strangers -”

“Vee’s touching him.”

“Yeah, because he’s gotta be carried by someone,” He rolled his eyes, “Don’t touch strangers unnecessarily , and it looks painful, I don’t want to hurt him more.”

“And it’s not that you don’t want me to touch the injured unconscious guy you were just making goo-goo eyes at because you like him, huh?” Remus said, earning a shove.

“Stop fighting,” Vee said, frowning at the two of them, “Do you have room in your home for him? He needs somewhere to rest.”

Roman nodded quickly, “He can take my bed - I’ll sleep on the couch until he wakes up.”

With a roll of his eyes but nothing more, Remus turned and waved for them to follow. The three of them quickly made their way back through the tunnels back to the twin’s little home in the walls. When they arrived Roman rushed into his ‘room’ (clambering up a few steps built using old matchboxes) and pulling aside a curtain of fabric into the little cubby. He adjusted his mirror shard where it leant up against the wall since he had bumped into it in his hurry and quickly made his bed more neat, pulling back the sheet so that Vee could follow him in (he had to duck to fit) and gently place the other down on the bed. He shifted in his sleep, making a soft pained sound as the wound on his face rubbed against the pillow. Roman ever so carefully crept forward and adjusted him so he would be more comfortable and pulled the sheet up to tuck him in. Taking a deep breath, Roman turned to the other two.

“Okay, okay, out,” he said, shooing the both of them with his hands, “Into the living room, we shouldn’t crowd him, let him rest.”

“Yeah, yeah. Alright, bossy,” Remus huffed even as he backed out of Roman’s room and went over to flop onto the couch they had made out of soft fabric and wool scraps. Vee followed and finally Roman, with a second glance back at the sleeping leafman, pulled the curtain closed again and went to sit with Remus on their sofa.

—-

“What do you think happened to him?” Roman asked softly, Remus groaned.

“For like, the fifth time, neither of us have got a clue,” He huffed, “You’re gonna have to wait ‘till he wakes up and hopefully doesn’t try and kill us, which, by the way, is probably what’ll happen when he wakes up and thinks he’s been fucking kidnapped-”

“We can just explain-”

“ Especially considering the fact that he seems to have enough strength to break a window even though he’s tiny !”

“Again,” Vee said, interrupting the brewing argument with their stupid reason as they always seemed to be able to, “He’s a leafman , which means he’s strong, and he was probably flying pretty damn fast to break that window - even with a broken wing - which is impressive - but he’s also injured, he’s probably not gonna want to fight if he can help it.”

Remus sighed, “Fine, fine, but if he attacks you guys I’m running.”

“Both of us know you wouldn’t do that,” Roman rolled his eyes, Remus just huffed and crossed his arms, sinking into the sofa and not saying anything else. 

—-

It was hours until something happened. Vee had disappeared back to wherever he disappeared to, with a request to call for him if something happened. Remus had gone to bed, which was understandable considering it was late - so it was only Roman left in the living room. He might’ve been nodding off if it weren’t for the fact that this man was currently occupying his every thought. He really hoped he was okay. 

But just as he was starting to nod off for real, the curtain was pulled open and his eyes shot up to meet those of the stranger’s - well, the one he could open, at least. His eye was green, such a bright, vibrant green, like a luscious plant in the height of summer. It was also a little reflective, Roman noticed as he turned his head to look at him, a little like a cat’s, glittering in the fairylights they had strung up around the rooms. 

“Hi,” Roman said softly - maybe not the best thing to lead with, the stranger looked surprised, but a small smirk crossed his face before he flinched at the pain that expression must have caused. 

“Hello,” He said, very obviously trying hard to move his lips as little as possible, but Roman thought his voice was beautiful,  “Could you tell me where I am?”

Roman immediately snapped out of his thoughts, even shaking his head a little, “This is our home, mine and my brother’s - he’s sleeping right now,” He explained, “Uh - in the wider world, we’re in the home of the witch bean, I think his name is Patton - but don’t take my word on that - me and my brother are borrowers.”

“....I don’t see,” He said, before huffing, “Yes.”

Roman frowned, because that was a little weird, but he persisted anyway, “Our friend - well, I kinda see them as an older brother but they’re not actually related us, it’s pretty complicated - anyway - our friend is a brownie and they’re the one who brought you in here after you broke the window - oh! Do you remember that?”

“Oh yes, totally remember -that,” He said, before sighing, Roman tilted his head at the sarcasm.

“Um… okay,” He said, “Well - you smashed the bean’s kitchen window, and we found you unconscious and hurt so we brought you in here to rest.”

“Wow-” He said, “I knew I was capable of that.”

“...right?” Roman didn’t know what was up with this guy - he seemed nice enough, he just spoke… strangely, “Are you okay? I mean - do you feel okay?”

“Well my face is totally fine, and my wing doesn’t hurt at all?” he said, before groaning, tugging at his hair, “I’m not sorry - fuck- I’m not sorry.”

“Okay okay - I get it!” he said, raising his hands. 

“No - no- not - I meant that - no - I’m lying on purpose right now - oh my god ,” He wrung his hands, starting to seem more and more frustrated by the moment, Roman stared, not even sure how to interpret any of this, “I’m totally trying to lie right now.”

“Hey, woah,” Roman said, standing up and walking over to him, his tail swished anxiously behind him as he got closer, holding up his hands, “Take a deep breath, okay? Are you - are you being forced to lie?”

“No,” He said, but he practically melted in relief, Roman smiled - pretty sure that meant that he'd gotten this right.

“Gotcha, so, have you always been like this?”

“Yes,”

“Okay… is it a spell? Will it wear off?”

“I- It will wear off, it’s definitely not a curse.” He said, frowning a little, Roman nodded.

“I don’t know much about curses… we can see what Vee knows later, if there’s a way to undo it,” Roman said, the stranger looked up, a glimmer of hope in his eye, “For now - what’s your name? I’m Roman!” he offered his hand to shake with a bright smile, the stranger hesitated before reaching to shake it.

“My name is not Janus,” he said, Roman grinned.

“What a lovely name not to have,” He chuckles, “It’s nice to meet you, Janus - oh! Would you like me to bandage your face?”

“Definitely not, my face is completely fine, it definitely won’t keep getting worse -” He said. That was… worrying, they’d have to talk to Vee about it tomorrow, see what he could do.

For now, all Roman could do was bandage it up, “Okay, come with me… we’ve got some things that might help just through here.”

Quickly he led Janus to the room of sorts that they used as a storage space for the bigger things they had borrowed. They had a jar - the smallest they could find, which was still up to Roman’s waist - of a sort of healing salve the witch had made. It had originally been for Vee, but they kept it here because all three of them knew the twins got in far more scrapes than Vee ever would, and besides, the three of them used this place as a sort of home base anyway. He grabbed some thread scissors and got to cutting some bandage from a roll they had borrowed - it was far too big for any of them to use in a way that was actually beneficial (though Roman had tried to make clothes out of it, it worked, but the texture wasn’t great), so he had to cut it down to size. 

“Here, sit,” Roman said, pulling out a little stool fashioned from a bottle cap and gesturing for Janus to sit down, “I’m going to put some of this on it, okay? It might sting a little.”

“I’m not okay with that,” He said, whilst folding his hands in his lap and closing his eyes, leaning forward a little to make things easier. Roman marvelled at the trust Janus was putting in him for a moment, but he supposed this guy didn’t have much of a better option if this stuff on his face was going to get worse if it was left alone. 

—-

“So… you can’t tell the truth?” Vee asked, glaring down at the other faerie creature in the room, “How odd.”

“He told me it’s a curse,” Roman said, looking between Janus and Vee, both of whom looked disgruntled. After Roman had given him those bandages the night before they’d both gone to bed, agreeing that it would be easier to get the others involved in the morning. 

“Oh great, a curse,” Remus rolled his eyes, “Because we totally know how to fix that.”

“You do?” Virgil asked, looking at him in confusion, “I thought you two didn’t know magic.”

“We don’t, I was being sarcastic, dumbass.” Remus said, folding his arms, “But seriosuly - we gotta do something about your face, Mr. Glitter Sparkle, because that shit looks worse than it did yesterday.”

“No, it doesn’t, and I totally didn’t notice that,” Janus huffed, bringing his hand up to his face only to wince away. 

“Don’t touch it !” Roman huffed, grabbing his hand and pulling it away, “You’ll hurt yourself - it might get infected!.”

“I’m totally fine,” Janus said, frowning, “And it’s not rot - and it’s definitely not gonna keep spreading until we find a way to reverse it.”

“And how in the blazes are we going to do that?” Roman asked, looking around at the other two. Remus face palmed and Vee groaned. 

“I can… try some stuff, both for the curse and the rot, but I’ve got no clue if any of it’ll work, so just - don’t get your hopes up, okay?”

—

Whatever Virgil tried, it didn’t work. 

He tried pretty much every spell he knew, every piece of magic he was able to perform, but nothing would lift the curse. The rot had been slowed down just a little by the bandages and the salve, but it wouldn’t last forever and Roman was growing more and more worried by the day - and more and more fond of Janus too. 

“I know I don’t know you all that well,” Roman said softly one day as the two of them sat side-by-side on their little sofa, “But I… feel a large amount of fear when I think of what might happen to you if we can’t fix this.”

“Well - I totally don’t feel the same way, I have no regard for whether I get through this,” Janus said glumly. His wing was a whole other story, “But at least that magic salve of yours hasn’t bought us time.”

Roman hummed and nodded, leaning back on the sofa and sighing, his tail twitched anxiously by his feet. A few moments later, he shot up with an idea, startling Janus. 

“Sorry - I had an idea,” Roman said, grinning. Janus just raised an eyebrow and tilted his head, “I… fear neither you nor Remus will like it all that much…”

—

“You want to reveal us ?” Remus practically screeched, making both Janus and Vee flinch, “Have I not - have we not - have I not told you the thing about the squishing and the guts enough times?”

“Ree please-” Roman said, trying to stay calm, “Look - nothing we’ve done so far is helping him,” he gestures to Janus, “ Except the salve that the bean gave Vee, so - so if that helps, maybe we’ll be able to convince him to give us more potent stuff? Or maybe he’ll even know the cure-”

“Squished! Like a bug! Do you want to know what it feels like when a fly gets swatted? Because I sure as hell don't!” Remus yelled. 

“The witch wouldn’t do that,” Vee cut in, crossing their arms, “I would protect you guys, first off, and he wouldn’t anyway - the witch is incredibly kind to almost all creatures.”

“How would we even - communicate with it?” Janus asked, frowning. 

“How -? I mean, we talk?” Roman said, rolling his eyes like that was obvious, Janus frowned. 

“I realised it would be that easy,” Janus said, “Does it not speak another language?”

Shrugging, Roman shook his head, “No - I mean, I’ve always been able to understand him when he speaks to his bean friends when they’re here - sometimes he speaks in some other language when he does magic but I don’t think we’ll have trouble talking to him-”

“If you don’t mind being squished.” Remus interrupted. Roman groaned.

“If you don’t wanna go you can stay here and try and think up some other way to help Janus,” Roman said, glaring at his older brother. Remus grumbled for a second.

“Fine,” Remus said, “We’ll go along with your stupid plan, that way at least if he tries to squash us I’ll be there to say ‘I told you so’.”

Roman rolled his eyes, but still, with Remus’ approval, he turned to Janus and offered his arms. Realising seconds later that he had just offered to carry the leafman, Roman found a blush overtaking his face - even more so when Janus took the offer. Roman understood - the rot had been making him more and more tired as the days went by, it was now covering half of his face almost entirely and spreading down his neck. It seemed to be sapping his energy more and more the longer they left it. Carrying him would get them where they needed to go quickly, it was purely practical. Though, Roman’s face did heat up a little as the faerie snuggled into his arms. 

“Alright lovebirds, if we’re gonna do this stupid plan then lets go,” Remus said as he marched out of the door. 

—

Being the only one here who had actually interacted with the bean before, Vee went up first. 

The plan was to have Vee explain the situation and introduce them, and if the bean reacted well the other three would come out too. Roman could feel a tightness in his chest as they crouched behind a bowl, just barely peeking over the top. The bean was sitting at his desk, working on some kind of writing with a large raven feather quill in hand, with which he was tapping his chin. The three of them watched Vee scurry across the floor of the casting room and deftly hop up onto the desk. Despite knowing that the bean already knew Vee, Roman felt his heart skip a beat as the brownie caught the bean’s attention. He put down his quill and smiled, turning to face him. Roman had to strain to hear their conversation, but luckily the room was quiet.

“Hey kiddo!” Said the bean, who was loud and hardly difficult to hear at all, Remus had to bite back a giggle at the look on Vee’s face at the address, “How’re you doing? You don’t usually come out like this? Everything okay?”

The bean’s immediate concern had Roman relaxing just a little bit. The bean wouldn’t squish him - he didn’t even think that in the first place, but it was still a bit of a worry - his clear concern for Vee settled that worry a little bit. 

“Actually -” Vee started, taking a deep breath, Roman could see the way he was stood up straight, the way his tail was bushed up, he was clearly nervous, maybe the bean had picked up on it too, “I - kind of - need your help, with something… um- consider it in return for a favour.”

Both Roman and the bean seemed to share in their surprise. He shared a look with Janus, who had a similar look on his face - favours were a big deal to fae, taking something without knowing what you may have to give in return. Fae wouldn’t offer favours unless the situation was dire, the bean seemed to recognise that too. 

“...Of course, kiddo, what’s going on?”

The explanation of the situation was lengthy, starting with Roman and Remus’ residence in Patton’s house, which he really didn’t seem all that surprised by, and ended with Janus and his curse. The last point of his explanation did seem to surprise him, but after a moment’s consideration he asked if he could meet them and Vee waved them over. That was their cue.

Roman adjusted his hold on Janus before hopping down from the table on which they stood and making his way over. He turned back and rolled his eyes when Remus didn’t follow. Groaning, Remus gave in and hopped down after him. The bean watched them in what looked like awe as Roman tossed a rope up to Vee - who began to hoist him up until he was standing on the desk in front of the bean. Roman had done his fair share of watching and eavesdropping, but the bean looked so much bigger up close, with fluffy golden hair decorated with a little band of crystals on string. Delicate looking - or as delicate looking as something so massive could be - silver rimmed glasses perched on his nose and he could imagine that his rounded face would be inviting if Roman wasn’t so tiny in comparison. He was a giant - and that only became more clear the closer he got. 

“Woah!” he said, “Hello there.”

“Hello,” Roman said, eyes flicking between Vee and the bean just as Remus pulled himself up onto the desk using the fishhook he kept on his belt to use as a grapple.

“If you squish us, bean, I’m gonna ruin your life from beyond the grave,” Was the first thing Remus said upon standing up. 

“...Okay well, good thing I’m not gonna squish you then, huh?” He chuckled awkwardly, “Yuu can call me Patton! It’s nice to finally meet you two!”

“Finally-?” Roman asked, frowning, that made it sound like…

“Oh! I’ve known there were borrowers in my house for years now,” He waved his hand, making Roman shift his stance so as not to be blown over. At least the bean - Patton - looked somewhat apologetic for it. 

“You - you have?” Roman squeaked.

“How?” Remus yelled, crossing his arms.

“Well - the two of you aren’t exactly quiet,” Patton said gently, “And… not exactly tidy either - it wasn’t hard to figure out - now, who’s your friend here?”

“This is Janus,” Roman said, carefully setting Janus onto his own feet. “He’s a leafman - I think that’s what Vee called him anyway - um, he’s cursed.”

Janus nodded, before giving a small wave and a smile - as best he could with the rot on his face at least. 

“Cursed?” Patton looked at the four of them, “I guess that’s what you need my help with, huh?”

“And definitely not this too,” Janus said, gesturing to the side of his face almost encased in rot now. 

“He can only speak in lies,” Roman cut in when Patton looked confused, “That’s the curse - but we’ve all tried everything we know - even that healing salve you gave Vee that one time - but we can't fix either, and his wing is broken too - can- is there anything you can do?”

“I’m… not sure,” Patton said softly, “I’ve never treated rot before, but I’ll try my best, don’t you worry! And I know someone who can put your wing right as rain, kiddo, so don’t worry ‘bout that until we get this sorted.”

Janus nodded slowly, “I trust you - but I don’t want this stupid horrible rot gone, so I don’t want you to do what you can.”

His words seemed to take a moment to process, but Patton seemed to figure it out eventually and nodded quickly, “Got it! Okay - you three make him comfortable over here, I’m going to go grab some supplies.”

"And you say we're loud," Roman mumbled as Patton got up and moved around the room, bumping into multiple objects and pieces of furniture on the way and making all sorts of noise. Vee just gave him a gentle shove in retaliation for the jab and Roman smiled, "Okay, make this place comfortable he said, we can do that, right?" 

Remus just shrugged and rolled his eyes, plopping down with his back to a tissue box. Roman huffed - Remus had always been stubborn - and looked around. The tissues from the box caught his attention and he grabbed a few of those, bundling them up, maybe he could use them to make a seat… he ran over to the stationary pot and grabbed an eraser, and then pried open one of the little storage containers on Patton's desk that contained an unorganised jumble of sewing materials. He grabbed a couple of fabric scraps and wrapped them around the eraser, stuffing the gap with tissue before grabbing a wad of sticky notes that was almost as tall as him to use as the back of the makeshift seat, repeating the same process before leaning it up against the tissue box. He picked Janus up again and placed him down on the seat with a grin, "How's that?" He asked, placing his hands on his hips. 

"Absolutely terrible," Janus said, just making Roman's grin widen as he sat down next to him. The seat was only really big enough for two. 

"Wow…" came a soft voice from above and Roman looked up to see Patton watching them with surprise, "That was-"

"I'm sorry!" Roman squeaked, "If I went overboard - you just said to get comfortable so I-"

"No, no hey! This is amazing!" Patton said, "I never would've thought to make a chair like that, you're very creative." 

"Well- we kind of have to be when there's no furniture made for our size," Roman pointed out a little sheepishly. 

"Still, that's very cool, though I wonder…" Patton started mumbling, words too jumbled to make any sense of them until he spoke up again, "Well - anyway, I’m glad you’re all settled, I gathered everything I thought might be helpful - I think we should start with the rot first.”

Patton’s first attempt - a spell in an odd language that Roman couldn’t even hope to understand - was a miserable failure, and so was his second attempt - a healing salve much like the one Roman himself had tried. He had said it hadn’t worked when they’d done it, but he had tried anyway to much the same results. After three more attempts - three different crystals - Patton sighed and sat back. Roman was fearing the worst, holding tightly to Janus’ hand without even realising he was doing it - though Janus was holding his hand back just as tightly, so when he did realise he thought it probably wasn’t such a bad thing.

“Okay,” Patton said with a soft sigh, “There’s one more thing we can try… I really didn’t want it to come down to this…”

“What is it?” Roman asked, eyes wide. 

“If you hurt them…” Vee said, his tone dark. Patton’s eyes widened and he shook his head.

“Oh no no! It won’t hurt anyone,” He said, going over to a cabinet and pulling out a tiny vial, so small that they could barely see it from this far away, “It’s just… incredibly rare, and hard to get your hands on without hurting someone innocent, so… I try not to use it unless the circumstances are dire.”

Returning to the table, he placed the vial down in front of them. To Roman it was big enough for him to easily hold in both hands. The tiny, corked bottle contained barely a drop of softly glowing pearlescent liquid. It had such a warm and inviting aura, like it could be nothing but good. Roman walked over and carefully lifted the vial to look at it. 

“What… is it?” Remus asked from behind them, looking at the bottle with a suspicious glare. 

“It’s pure life magic,” Patton said, Janus perked up.

“Queen of the Forest totally isn’t the only one who can harness life magic,” He said, suddenly suspicious, “How did you get this?”

“A gift,” Patton said, raising his hands, “From the Queen herself - I didn’t steal it, or hurt anyone, if that’s what you mean, I swear - that’s why I barely have any - I can’t trust any witch who sells it.”

Janus relaxed a little and Roman walked back over and sat down with the bottle. Laying his hand against the glass, Janus sighed softly and relaxed a little more. It was like even the aura of the magic could calm him.

“You can drink it,” Patton said, “Maybe it’ll get rid of your curse too - take it slowly, though, I’m not sure what might happen if you drink too much…”

Janus nodded slowly, and then ever so carefully took the bottle from Roman, placing it in his lap. Roman watched, a little mesmerised, as the liquid magic sloshed in the bottle.

He removed the lid and Roman had no warning for the wonderful scent that would come from it, it smelled like a whole forest packed into a bottle, healthy, lush vegetation, soil wet from rains and flowers, so many flowers. Janus held tightly to the bottle and looked up at Patton.

“This is…” He said, frowning as he realised he would have to lie, “This is not sacred to my people - are you- are you sure I can have this?”

“Isn’t the purpose of this magic to maintain life?” Patton said softly, urging him to take it, “Wouldn’t your Queen heal you if you were still back home?”

Janus was frozen, as though someone had just hit pause. Roman watched him take a deep breath and let it out slowly as though it was in slow motion, “Yes,” He said, “She would.”

“See? You- wait-” Patton said, breaking the stillness of the moment as he remembered Janus’ curse, “Why wouldn’t she heal you? Isn’t her job to bring life to the forest?”

Tap, tap, tap went Janus’ fingernails against the glass of the bottle as he contemplated what to say to that. Eventually he took another deep breath. Roman reached to take one of his hands again and squeezed it gently. 

“I am definitely a life they consider worth keeping in the forest,” Janus said, squeezing Roman’s hand, “That’s why they didn’t curse and exile me.”

“Oh sweetheart…” Patton said softly, “Well - you’re always welcome in my house, kiddo, and It’s my call what happens with that magic, and I say it should be used to heal you, okay?”

“They sound kinda like a bitch,” Remus said, crossing his arms whilst Vee nodded in agreement. 

“Now there's no need for such strong language - but, yes,” Patton nodded, “I do agree with you, now drink up, before that gets any worse.”

“...Okay,” Janus said, softly, looking down at the magic again. Slowly he lifted the vial up to his lips and Roman reached to help tilt it back. Just a few sips of the liquid had the rot receding, leaving a dull grey mark where it had been on Janus’ skin but no other trace. 

Without thinking, Roman reached to brush his fingers across the newly recovered skin. It felt normal, aside from the colour, it was as though nothing had happened to it at all. Janus stayed perfectly still as Roman ran his fingers over his cheek and down his jawline to cup his face before he realised what he was doing and pulled away with a mumbled apology. 

“It’s okay,” Janus said softly, and Roman ducked his head further, gods above - that was weird, wasn’t it? Had he just wrecked everything? “Wait - Roman-”

Janus’ hand was on his face - turning his head to look up at him - both of Janus’ eyes were open now and Roman couldn’t hold back the soft gasp at the striking yellow colour of his other eye. Bright like the sun, or a buttercup, such a beautiful colour. 

“I - I meant that,” He said, “It’s okay - Roman - I think- I think that broke the curse too!”

“It was that easy? Really?” Remus asked, throwing his hands up, “Seriously we’ve barely been here twenty minutes and you’re already fixed? I mean come on! Where’s the adventure! The thirty more chapters of nitty gritty suffering? He’s just fixed just like that?”

“It almost sounds like you’d rather I stay injured, Remus,” Janus said, raising an eyebrow. Remus groaned.

“I mean obviously it’s great you’re fixed and all but like - what a boring ending!” Remus huffed, “Roman didn’t even confess to his big gay crush on you while you were dying in his arms or anything! Talk about shitty storytelling.”

“Now now,” Patton said, taking the vial back from Janus when he held it up, meanwhile Roman was bright red and stammering from Remus’ comment, “It’s not all over yet - we still have that wing to sort out.”

Remus let out a loud groan and slumped back against the tissue box. Vee laughed and ruffled his hair, much to his displeasure. 

“Wait, before that, can we uh - go back to what Remus said-” Janus said, putting up his hands.

“Which part?” Patton asked, tilting his head.

“The part about Roman and his ‘big gay crush’,” Janus said, doing quotation marks with his fingers, Roman groaned, curling up and hiding his face with his tail. Janus chuckled and carefully pushed his tail fluff out of the way, “Hey, why’re you hiding, darling?”

Roman choked and pulled his tail back over his face, “Embarrassing! Shut up! Wasn’t ready to tell you yet…” he whined, Janus burst out laughing and patted his head.

“And what if I had a big gay crush on you too? Would you look at me then?” Janus leaned down to whisper, making Roman squeak and stammer again.

“You- wait - really?” Roman asked, peeking up at him to see Janus’ beautiful smiling face and oh lord he was going to pass out. 

“You two’ve been acting like you’re in love pretty much since he got here,” Vee pointed out, gesturing to Janus, “It’s kinda obvious and really really sappy.”

“...Am I really that obvious?” Roman asked, looking around at the others. 

“Mhm,” Vee said, even Patton nodded.

“You’ve been making goo-goo eyes at him constantly since we found him.” Remus said plainly. Roman winced and his blush got stronger. 

“I hope I didn’t come off as weird or - creepy or something,” Roman said awkwardly looking up at Janus, who smirked and leant forward to press a kiss to his cheek.

“You didn’t,” He said, “It was cute.”

Yep, this was it, Roman was dead. Right up until Patton coughed awkwardly to get their attention.

“As adorable as this is - we really do need to get that wing fixed up as best we can until my partner can look at it, okay?” He said, “Just so you don’t damage it any more.”

Janus sighed and nodded, gently nudging Roman to sit up so that he could use his shoulder to stand, “...Okay, who’s your partner?”

“He goes by Logic to strangers,” Patton said happily, “But he works with insects and small creatures all the time, I’ve seen him fix up injured bugs all the time, he’ll know how to help your wing.”

“...Right,” Janus said, not sounding sure in the slightest, “So what are you going to do then?”

“I’ll just put a temporary splint and some bandage on your wing to hold it in place for now, once Lo gets home later we can take another look at it,” Patton said, turning in his chair to rummage loudly through another drawer, “Aha - here we go, now, if you could turn around for me…”

—

Janus’ wing was finally starting to look healed three weeks later.

The time between them had been spent much the same as all of their other time. Roman had helped Janus adjust to wingless travel as best as he could, showing him around every nook and cranny, teaching him how to climb safely and getting him his own ropes and supplies. Janus was good at jumping and climbing anyway. He had been a soldier for the flower people before being exiled, so he made a very good borrower, even if he wasn’t really. 

With Patton aware of their existences, their lives became harder and easier in equal measure. It was much harder to sneak around now, and while Patton was happy to give them anything they needed, it made their lives a whole lot more boring in Roman’s opinion. The actual borrowing was part of the fun - even eavesdropping had lost its appeal since Patton would be happy to have him as part of the conversation anyway. But - looking to the bright side, that had left him time to focus on other things. He had found a piece of graphite and gathered some paper scraps to draw on and started attempting to do some kind of art - he had drawn Janus once and decided he couldn’t possibly capture his beauty at all adequately and gave up despite Janus’ protests. Now he just stuck to drawing interesting things he had found. 

After the checkup Logan had done on Janus’ wing today, he had announced that it was almost done healing and that they should start with some light physical therapy to get him using them again. They had spent hours on wing exercises - opening and closing them, little flutters, nothing that would get him off of the ground, of course. Though, with the disuse, Janus’ wings weren’t getting him off the ground anytime soon without practice.

So they kept practising, and a month later Janus was able to lift himself off of the ground, holding Roman’s hand and fluttering around him in a circle. A month after that he was able to fly like nothing had ever happened to hurt him in the first place. 

Roman had been worried he might leave, but when he expressed it Janus had kissed him and called him silly. Why would he go back to a society that exiled and hurt him when he had a loving partner and family who cared about him right here?

Everything was perfect. Really perfect now, and maybe saying it so much would get annoying, but Roman really wouldn’t ask for anything more.

He knew he’d said it before, but he meant it for real this time. Now life was perfect.

With his brothers and his partner and Patton and Logan to protect them… now he really couldn’t ask for anything more.

Remus still wished there had been a little more action, though.

----

Tags: @full-of-roman-angst-trash @your-local-random-dino @cutebisexualmess @glacierruler @roseianxiety @bella-bugatti-frogetti-baguetti @scalesfeathersnfur @oatmeal-stans-the-trash-rat @littlerat2 @goldnskyart (if anyone wants to be added, let me know!)