#something about how she groomed him from childhood and then threw him away like he was nothing

[tamajam]

damn thinking about the fact that mystra knew gale from the time he was an apprentice/kid to adulthood. and like. went from his teacher to his lover, like, he had no chance to ever really explore anything beyond her and magic. not to say that his interest in the weave and stuff isn't genuine but like. she's literally the source of the thing he is the most passionate about, the thing he views his entire value as a person off of. like. woooah. he spent whole life dedicated to a goddess who doesn't see him as more than a second of entertainment in her immortality. and if he hadn't been cast out by her for the whole orb business, he probably would've given her the rest of it, too. hell, if he didn't meet tav and everyone else he probably would've spent the rest of it trying to gain back her favor anyway!! like. augh. this guy,,,,,

[raven-at-the-writing-desk]

the shroud family curse and its implications for intimacy

I was thinking about what the Shroud parents must look like under their helmets and then I started wondering how they met and fell in love 🤔 While wondering about that, I came to the realization that Mr. and Mrs. Shroud's romance must have been a complicated one.

***Spoilers for books 6 and 7 of the main story below the cut!!***

Idia’s grandmother, Aidne, was the previous director of STYX. She was succeeded by her son (Idia’s father), which implies that the Shroud blood and the curse that comes with it are from the paternal side of the family. Idia’s mom, then, is the one who married into the family. (It’s not clear at this point if those that marry into the Shroud family are also magically afflicted with the same condition, but for the purposes of this post whether it is or not isn’t relevant as my point will still stand either way.)

The Shroud curse quickly burns away any blot the individual has in their body without the typical means of recovery (ie rest and self-care). If there is no blot to incinerate then the curse will turn to consuming the magical energy of the individual themselves, which could pose a threat to their wellbeing and even their life. Because of this condition, ancestors to the Shroud family threw themselves into research on blot in STYX. This would ensure that Shroud members were always around blot that could be burned in the place of their own energy, and provided a sense of false hope for them. They believed that if they worked hard enough, they may be able to find a cure for their curse--but over time, that belief waned, and instead it seems they are all now resigned to their fate and don't try to defy it. We see this is true of the latest generation of Shrouds, as Idia was groomed to become the next director of STYX from a young age even when he disliked the idea and how his responsibilities restricted his freedom. In fact, the Shrouds in general are described as being gloomy people, and this is possibly the result of the hopeless feelings they have about their curse.

A secondary consequence of the curse is that it socially isolates members of the Shroud family from society. Idia is somewhat of a special case since we also have to consider the mental and emotional anguish he experienced following his involvement in Ortho's death. However, even disregarding this horrific tragedy, it can be inferred that the Shrouds are forced into positions which make them more alone than others. For one, their jobs seem to be very demanding and literally physically keeps them away from others (besides colleagues) since the headquarters are located in bottom of the sea. In Idia's post-OB flashback, we get dialogue which implies that he is not allowed outside very often--something which we can attribute to his being the heir to STYX. This may imply that previous Shrouds experienced similar childhoods, and this is just a continuation of the cycle. (I do want to point out here that Idia says his family used to go out to various places together when Ortho was still alive, so it's not a strict requirement that the Shrouds have zero outside interaction. They obviously do go outside the lab, but we cannot say for sure how frequently.)

More importantly, there is also an emotional and psychological component to isolation. You do not need to actually be alone in a room to be considered "isolated" from others. You could, in fact, be in a room full of people and still feel "isolated" because you haven't made any meaningful connection with them. This is what I think it must feel like to be a Shroud out in the world. You may technically be considered a part of the population, but you still don't quite fit in. For example, Idia has previously expressed worries that people will stare at his hair and recognize him as a Shroud, then ridicule his appearance and attitude. Indeed, the gloomy presence that the Shrouds give off seems to be a major deterrent for others to interact with THEM. All that time spent in physical isolation must have also had an impact on the Shrouds' ability to socialize. Idia is a strong example of this; he is an avid gamer and feels comfortable with taunting people via a screen. His face-to-face manner of speaking, meanwhile, can be incendiary and often rubs his classmates the wrong way. His father is not the exact same as him, but Mr. Shroud seems to have his own issues communicating affection and tends to describe things in a serious manner or in terms of work. Thinking about the way the curse is constructed too, there is a built-in fear that the Shrouds can never truly form long-lasting relationships with others, nor completely reveal their true selves to friends. Idia exposits as much in book 6. When Ortho tries to get his big brother to be friends with the OB boys, Idia dismisses the idea and says it won't matter in the end because they will be "sent down the river" and have their memories of those fun times completely purged. This illustrates a defeatist mindset which may be pervasive in all or most of the Shroud family: if this is going to be the fate of my loved ones, why bother getting close to anyone at all? It will just be more painful for us in the end.

SO LIKE. What was Mr. Shroud probably going through when he was seeing his then-girlfriend????? ??? ??? ??? ? ? ??? ? ?? He was probably so frustrated that he couldn't tell her anything about who he really was, and probably even more frightened that if he did ever tell the truth, he might lose her forever (via River Lethe memory wipe). And even if she still accepts him for it, then what??? Then she has to join the Shroud family, and that's basically damning her to the same mopey life he has, researching blot in the middle of nowhere until they're nothing but bones. Imagine how intense that guilt must be, knowing that you (yes, YOU) are responsible for "dragging down" your beloved into the same miserable circumstances that you're in. Not only that, but surely then you'd also have to tell your S/O that any children you conceive together will have the exact same destiny in STYX. It's not just Mr. Shroud either, it must be generations of Shrouds going through this same thing.

But, but, but!! In spite of his fear, Mrs. Shroud must have said yes because she truly loves him with all her heart… Their relationship must be built on such a strong foundation of trust and loyalty 😭 (From here, this is all speculation/headcanon/me rotting about the Hades-and-Persephone-esque romance I picture Idia's parents having. YOU HAVE BEEN WARNED.) I don't think that Mr. Shroud would be the one to initiate or to be affectionate. At most, maybe he had a shy sort of crush on her. More likely it was Mrs. Shroud that first expressed a romantic interest and passionately pursued him. And then maybe over time his feelings blossomed but he was still too afraid to put this massive burden on her shoulders, knowing the responsibility he bears as the future director of STYX... BUT HE HAS ALSO BECOME TOO ATTACHED TO HER TO CUT HER OUT OF HIS LIFE COMEPLETELY... Her very presence is screwing with his usual sense of cool, calculated logic 💀

AND WHAT ABOUT "THE TALK" THEY'D HAVE TO HAVE TO FULLY DISCLOSE EVERYTHING???? HOW MUCH MR. SHROUD MUST'VE BEEN SWEATING WAITING FOR HER ANSWER????? ?? ?? ? ? ? Oh, Sevens. Now I've done it. Here comes the moment where he gets dumped and his mom sends in a whole squadron of men to kidnap his girlfriend and clean her brain up. But NO 😭 Instead Mrs. Shroud just clasps his hands and insists that they should get married so he'll never have to wallow in those miserable thoughts all alone... He's confused and keeps begging her to reconsider, because this decision will inevitably throw her entire life off course.

"Are you sure about this? If you say yes to me, your fate will be sealed. You can never turn back. Your life will be sworn to the Isle of Woe." "Yup, I've never been more sure of anything in my whole life! Let's burn in the Underworld together, darling <3"

She provides a response that’s so easy and devil-may-care that he doesn’t know what to say back, so he just quietly laughs… and slowly those quiet laughs morph into quiet sobs… (like how flashback!Idia transitioned from laughing to crying when he was bragging about how indestructible the “new” Ortho is 😈 LIKE FATHER, LIKE SON—)

Idia drops this line during his extended post-OB flashback: "So it's romantic when a hero rescues his ladylove from the Underworld, but when I do the same for my brother it's wrong?" WHAT IF THAT WAS TRUE, BUT WITH THE GENDER ROLES REVERSED, FOR HIS PARENTS???? ?? ? ?? ? ? ? ? ? ? ?? Mrs. Shroud willing to literally throw herself into the Underworld to "save" Mr. Shroud... like how Persephone was willing to stay there with Hades... 🙃 I'LL EAT THAT SHIT UP, JUST DROP THE "HOW I MET YOUR MOTHER" UPDATE OF TWST, DEVS..... . . . .. ..... . . .. . .. . . . . . . .. .... . . .. . . .... . . .. . . . .

Okay, I'm done screaming and sobbing at the wall for now--.

[itsbubbleteataro]

Hi everyone! I’m still writing but have been mainly focused on my own book. Wanted to put something out there so y’all would know that I haven’t forgotten about y’all. Without further a due I would like to introduce a tumblr exclusive series. Something that will be updated too regularly as my book is my main focus. enjoy!

Runaways, Introduction

“Sea hags and witches, Sirens, Mermaids, Black pearls, all stories told by sailors” Spoke a young man, looking out to sea longingly. He had dark brown hair, trimmed neatly framing his face. His eyes, a shade of green. Died in a pair of black trousers and matching coat, he leaned against the window. “I wonder if such stories are true.”

“Archer! Come over here! The tailor needs you to try on your suit for the wedding” His mother barked from down the hill. Pealing himself up from the window, he tries on the suit as the tailor makes last minuet adjustments. “Oh my, my son looks so handsome! oh truly are the best fit for Duchess Rose” Sighed his mother, prompting him to bite the inside of his cheek. Archer had no real pans to wed the woman.

That evening Archer paced his room, running a hand through his hair, occasionally stopping to look at his white suit that hung on the handle of his wardrobe. He chewed his lip, the wedding was tomorrow, and while anyone else would be delighted to wed a duchess, all he felt was dread. Not only had he never met the woman, there was much else he wanted to do. His eyes flickered to a map framed on his wall. Walking closer he carefully looked at the sea creatures drawn on the map, his mind only spinning with more questions tan answers. He again looked back at his suit, gears in his mind turning.

“Oh Archer, you are a devilish man” He pulled open drawers, finding what he could to pawn off. He ripped up his sheets, crafting a rope for himself. He packed a few things he would need and grabbed the map out of the frame. He threw his rope made from sheets out of his window, then walked over to his wardrobe. He stuffed his wedding suit inside his bag that hung off his shoulder, then climbed out of his window. “A run away groom, who had ever heard of one of those?”

His feet touched the ground, he straighten himself up, before looking up at the home and life he would leave behind. He balls his hand into a fist then shook his head. “No goin back Archer. You will live how you want to, remain free from anything and anyone.” Turning his back on his childhood home, he stated walking. Walking turned to running and soon enough, he had broken into a full sprint, leaving behind anything he’s ever known.

He stopped briefly to sell off what he could for money, before making his way to the shipyard. The sun just started to rise as he approached. He wiped sweat off his brow as he negotiated the price of a beautiful merchant ship. Title for the ship in hand, and after naming it Artemis, he took his leave, going into one of the local taverns, ordering himself a well earned pint of ale to calm his nerves.

Inside the tavern was bustling, even at such an early hour. Rough looking sailors and workmen sat together, laughing and drinking. Taking his ale to a table where he could see more he gazed around, eyes settling on a woman with Snow White hair, tied back into a braid. Brown eye that shone like amber, and a face filled with scars sat alone sipping her ale. taking a deep breath, Archer got up and sat across from her.

“What do ye want?” Snapped the woman, barely looking up from her ale.

“A crew. And I’d like you to be a part of it” Archer said, placing his ale aside. The woman looked up at him as she drank her ale. “Oh come on! Surely adventure suits you better than dinking yourself under.” The woman stilled her movements, looking at Archer. “Imagine, riches and freedom before you! Much better than drinking yourself dead here in a mangy old tavern” The woman swatted his hand away, dismissing him.

“I be happy here, I need no adventure, I have already had my share.” She spat, shooing him away.

“Well, should change your mind, my ship is named Artemis, we should be docked till tonight when we set sail” He took his leave after securing himself a few more crew members.

Night had fallen upon the harbor, Archer fiddled with the pocket watch he kept, occasionally looking out towards the docks. With a sigh he was ready to raise the sails till a shout caused him to look towards the shore.

“Oi! Captain wait for ye first mate will ye?”

Archer looked up with a smile, all to happy to have another set of hands to help around. He took out his hand with a boyish smile, “I’m Archer”

The woman looked at his hand before giving it a firm shake. “Ye be a madman to invite someone who’s name ye don’t even know on yer ship, I like it. Call me Pebbleton, everyone seems to do so anyways” After letting go of his hand, she started to bark orders to the crew, ensuring they leave the port that night. Archer looked back with joy, leaving his life and going on to live something much more exciting. No more having to marry the woman his mother had arranged, he could be free.

All the way in the warm waters of Jamaica, the sunlight streamed into the cabin of the captain of the Pearl. Groaning came from under the covers as a dark gray hand pushed the blankets off her form. Sitting up with a yawn her long black licks cascaded down her back. Golden eyes looked around the room, eyes landing on a black pearl on a necklace before turning away, biting her lip trying to stop the tears from forming. Pushing herself up from bed she got ready for the day, pulling on a lose white blouse and dark brown pants with a scarf wrapped around her waist. Barely brushing out her hair she put her hat on, the stepped out on deck, plastering a fake smile on her face.

Taking charge from her first mate a woman with long black hair and green eyes named Raven, she led a raid on a merchant ship.

After the gunpowder had settled, her crew left a little richer. Lorali stood on the railing of her ship, one boot on a crate of silks and golds. She sighed. “Oi! Sea Hag! Here’s to ye” She kicked the crate into the ocean, where it bubbled before falling down deeper and deeper till it hit the bottom of the sea.

Lorali stared at the water longingly before she turned her back, heading towards her cabin once more. Inside, she picked up the back pearl. She held it close to her chest as she stared at the water from her window. “Just what kind of debt did you get into Makial? Was it worth leaving me behind? Did you know I would be the one to take on your debt?”

Deep at the bottom of the sea, a heavenly voice echoed around the rocks, causing fish and creatures alike to flee. A mermaid who had long spiky fins and a tail sharing the same patterns as a lion fish swims out in the open. She finds the crate waiting for her. She wraps her tail around it, draping herself in silks and jewels with a crooked grin. “Sirens” the lion fish mermaid cooed. “So easy to trick and fool. He didn’t even realize he would pass on his debt to his little girlfriend after he died” She cackled coldly, “If only she knew the debt you had acquired”

[insertdisc5]

Hi!! I wanted to ask, in celebration of Deltarune CH. 2, do you have any updated thoughts and head canons about the game?? Like, y'know, similar to a previous ask about Kris in your Deltarune tag? Thanks!

thoughts on kris part 2 i guess???? (part 1 from ch1 here lol)

spoilers for deltarune like woah. this wont be kris focused just random thoughts on everything. thank you for giving me the opportunity to talk

not that many thoughts for this chapter tbh! EDIT LOL: this was a lie i have a lot of thoughts

-just in general i feel like the player isn't the only one controlling kris... like yes the player forced kris to do what happened in the snowgrave route but AT THE SAME TIME idk it feels like there's someone else too. just because of the terrifying voice i suppose. and also the jerky movement kris does every time they get their soul out? unless there's another reason for it... maybe getting your soul out means you walk weird lol

-BUT ALSO i feel like kris is 100% in control when they create fountains. idk it just makes sense kris would create them. to create another world, a better world, A WORLD WHERE THEIR BROTHER IS HERE PERHAPS? i do wonder why they get their soul out then though. i'm all for it sweetie! do whatever! i support you!

-(i am and will be playing deltarune with only kris' best interests in mind. i will not hurt anyone unless kris wants me to. dont worry my little meow meow im on your side! talk to me! no? okay ill stay under the sink its fine)

-speaking of asriel. SUMMER VACATION COLLEGE WHEN? SUMMER VACATION COLLEGE WHEN? SUMMER (starts crying) V-VACATION COLLEGE WHEN

-kris misses their brother so much it's so sad. if you make kris steal 5$ from asriel they take it "reluctantly"? talking to asriel online so often even alphys knows?? the google search?? GOING INTO ASRIEL'S GOOGLE SEARCH ROOM WITH THEIR EYES CLOSED BECAUSE THEY'RE CONVINCED THEY ALREADY KNOW WHATS IN THERE? THAT ONE IS LESS OF A MISSING THING BUT IM LIKE OH MY GOD

-the city walk with susie at the end makes it clear to me that kris really values susie's friendship... kris even sits with her if you spend long enough near the lake like aaaaah ;_;

-and even in snowgrave you spend your last acts with the final boss calling for your friends like YES there's a way bigger creepy aspect to this (kris as more of a Leader who Commands and commands their subjects to come) but still :'0 (and then noelle answers oh my god noelle im so sorry for the trauma)

-berdly. listen. listen. listen. liste

-berdly sucks but [berdly hurts his arm in the battle against queen if you don't save him because he doesnt want to hurt you] [berdly realizing smg's wrong in snowgrave and immediately taking steps to save noelle] berdly is my little crumb nugget. i will protect him.

-noelle. noelle. girlboss!

-like ooooh listen. hearing about the genocide path for undertale. made me go "that is SO COOL. i HAVE to experience it myself this is great. hehehe killing time" and like no regrets. i was fully enjoying the experience knowing i was an awful person. SNOWGRAVE THOUGH. i will never try this myself its too fucked up. casually grooming your childhood friend to murder people <3 and also acting like a weird stalker towards her <3 stockholm syndrome speedrun i will get all the info i can about this but i will never do this myself

-people remarking the kris/player>noelle relationship is similar to the relationship between player>chara in genocide path is like yes. chefs kiss. don't worry we just are making you stronger and everything will be fine "you made me kill my friend? and for what?" this is fine sweetie don't worry about it!!!!!!

-like the amount of details added to snowgrave, like if you equip noelle's watch she notices later? and her battle animations change as time goes on, she gets an ice shield and stops sighing in relief after battle? oh my god? oh my god.

-(berdly is not awake.) JUST KILL ME RIGHT HERE I HAVEN'T STOPPED THINKING ABOUT BERDLY NOT BEING AWAKE!!!!!

-also why didnt he turn into dust. so many possible reasons. is magic a thing in the normal world and perhaps no magic means no dust (theres graves). maybe he isnt dead. maybe hes braindead. maybe he'll come back. either way that boy is now in the closet big enough to put someone in

-also dess' name probably being december AND THATS WHY NOELLE LOST THE SPELLING BEE?!?!??! FUCK ME UP!!!!! JUST FUCK ME UP!!!!!!! OH MY GOD!!!!!!

-also so many good pixel art this chapter. too many? i didnt need pixel art of cardboard noelle falling on the statue. like thank you but please. please it hurts my game artist brain.

-the expressions in this chapter were also top notch. all the unsettling noelle expressions like (i fall over face first)

-i threw away the ball of junk (which i already tried in ch1) and this time the game was like "ARE YOU SURE BC THIS IS A BAD IDEA" and kris felt bitter :'( (it deletes all your items in the dark world)

-i uh fucked up and skipped the susie+noelle scene bc listen last time ralsei mentionned seeing what susie is doing we missed some PRIMO LORE. turns out it just makes you skip the scene and you dont get anything new. welp

-speaking of ralsei well you know. he exists. but im stuck on him going "i just wonder what being ralsei-like even is...?" ralsei my dude there's so much i could say about this. do you feel like you can't be ralsei-like because you feel like you have to be asriel-like

-but also that makes no sense bc susie hasnt even mentioned ralsei looks like asriel. and i cant imagine asriel being so meek. so WHAT GIVES

-ralsei as kris’ “i wish i was a monster just like my bro and family and i’d look like asriel but with red horns [THE HALLOWEEN COSTUME] and my name would be something cool like ralsei instead of a boring human name like kris and im sweet and cute because thats how i act with asriel because ASRIEL MADE ME” theory because that would be cute.

-ASRIEL GOING TO THE CHURCH TO CONFESS HIS "SINS" WHEN "SINS" AREN'T A THING IN THE ANGEL BELIEF LIKE I KNOW THIS INTERACTION WAS TREATED AS A JOKE BUT WHAT THE FUCK ASRIEL?

-kris definitely has a connection with the big red door in the city, judging by what the kids say they probably went there... i feel like this place's dark world will be the Final Dungeon you KNOW some shit happened there. also the sounds you hear when you go there is the phone dark world call's sound slowed down? AND AFTER SNOWGRAVE APPARENTLY YOU CANT HEAR IT ANYMORE? HUWAH?

-speaking of songs the songs were all so good, My Castle Town rules, the berdly snowgrave music is stuck in my head, flashback is uwah wuahah, Until Next Time is so good, AND ALSO A FRIEND NOTICED THE DARK WORLD CITY THEME IS JUST tHE SONG 74 (MOST NOTICEABLE WITH THE SNOWGRAVE VERSION)?????? WHAT DOES IT MEAN????? it might be just "hey its just reuse" BUT MR FOX YOU KNOW WE'RE GONNA READ INTO THIS IS NOELLE THE ONE SINGING IDK BRO!!!!!!!!!!

-asgore dreemurr fired from the force what happun!!!!! game theory is that asgore is related to dess' death/disappearance but eh who knows

-you start the chapter at lvl2 and get to lvl3 after the final boss, a friend mentioned this is probably because we destroyed a world and im :0

-to go back to kris it's still so interesting to figure out who they are based on how they act/people mention them. like kris shaking the ferris wheel car? yeah makes sense i can imagine a pranking kid do this. kris' dance? yeah thats a little silly but i can buy it. doing cool anime poses? well i dunno this doesnt line up PERFECTLY but sure. BUT EVERYTHING THAT HAPPENS IN SNOWGRAVE... especially >proceed like that is such a weird thing that i can't imagine them doing, but i can't completely see the "player" doing either (compare with going to sans -which kris doesnt know- and going "SANS!" because of course the player would know sans), like THATS one of the reasons i feel like there's someone else in there. the weird robotic merciless actions. if im going super meta it feels like there'd be someone else like writing the choices into existence for us to pick you know? gaster probably? god i need to read more gaster theories i completely sidestepped the gaster shit bc i wasnt interested. anyway just spitballing

-(looks at big shot guy) please dont make him the next tumblr guy i beg you

-obligatory "queen was great" mention if only because this part made me laugh a little bit too hard

that was a lot. thank you for letting me talk

[prettyboybarzal]

Falling For You

Pairing: Jake DeBrusk x female!OC

Summary: Sutton Beckett is settling for an unhappy relationship, but a chance encounter with Jake changes everything. 

Word Count: 18k+

A/N: Happy birthday, JD! Here’s the fic I’ve been working on since the beginning of quarantine. It’s been fun for me to write in my free time. It’s mostly a friends to lovers story, but very much a slow burn. SLOW. BURN. (Title inspired by Fallingforyou by The 1975)

Warnings: Smut, alcohol consumption, shitty boyfriend (not Jake)

Masterlist

January 20th, 2019

Sutton Beckett was pouting into a Long Island Iced Tea in the middle of a club in Boston. Despite being surrounded by her two best friends and a sea of beautiful, smiling people, she couldn’t find it in herself to crack so much as a smirk.

“Stop moping,” her roommate, Kate, demanded. Sutton lifted her chin and caught the glare she was sending her. “You’re no fun when you’re fighting with Garrett.”

“So, she’s no fun all the time?” their other roommate, Mia, asked with a sarcastic laugh.

“I’m fun!”

“Yeah, when you’re not fixated on every little detail of every little fight you have with him.”

Sutton almost opened her mouth to argue that her roommates were wrong, but she was tired of fighting it. They were completely right. Her relationship of two years was draining her energy completely.

When she first met him, their relationship felt like a dream. He was older, so he had a well-paying job and she reaped the benefits of those paychecks. He brought her to five-star restaurants and surprised her with gifts just because. He talked about the future and his plans to buy them a house on the Cape. She loved him, she saw that future with him, but as time had gone on the vision was getting dimmer.

After they hit a year and a half, a switch flipped.

When Garrett stopped caring, she blamed it on his work, but months passed and she needed something new to blame it on. His parents’ divorce, his sister’s Bridezilla wedding planning, even the death of his childhood dog. But she knew, and her friends knew, the relationship was a disaster and her excuses weren’t good enough.

“What was the fight about tonight?”

“He didn’t like what she was wearing,” Kate answered the question before Sutton could even open her mouth. Sutton opened her mouth, no doubt to come to Garrett’s defense, but Kate warned her, “Don’t defend him.”

“I’m going to grab another drink.”

Sutton found an open space at the bar and gunned for it. But, just as she stepped into the space, someone else did the same and she nearly crashed right into the broad chest of a random man. He stopped short just before she collided into him. When she looked up at him, he spoke but the music was too loud to hear. So, he leaned down to speak into her ear.

“You can order first,” he spoke, nodding towards the bar. “I��ll wait my turn.”

The boy stood at least two steps behind her as she leaned against the bar and stood on her tippy toes to get the bartender’s attention. She was shorter than almost everyone standing at the counter and kept getting ignored as a result, so he finally took matters into his own hands and waved the bartender down.

She spotted him and made a beeline to their side of the bar, though she looked directly past Sutton and up to him.

“I’ll have a ginger whiskey,” he spoke. He extended his hand with his card right over Sutton’s shoulder. “And whatever she’s having you can put on my card, too.”

Sutton almost protested, but the moment she turned to do so, he simply shook his head and she snapped her mouth shut. She placed her order, despite herself, and turned back to the boy as the bartender went to grab the drinks.

“I have a boyfriend,” she told him. He choked on his laughter, but said nothing more as he leaned over her to grab their drinks from the counter of the bar. He handed her glass to her as she continued rambling. “I wasn’t sure if you were, like, flirting with me and I didn’t want to take advantage of you if you were.”

“I was totally flirting with you,” he admitted. Sutton’s eyebrows shot up at his honesty. “But, hey, no problem. We can just be friends, yeah?”

She eyed him skeptically because, honestly, no guys just wanted to be friends. But the smile on his face made it hard for her to believe that he had any bad intentions. He just looked kinder than most guys—soft eyes, kind smile, brown hair that was a little long and tousled like he couldn’t have been bothered to groom it himself.

“Sure, we can be friends,” she told him with a smile that mirrored his own. “What’s your name?”

“Jake,” he introduced himself as he extended his hand.

“I’m Sutton,” she responded, dropping her hand in his. His fingers, rough against her much softer and more delicate skin, curled around her hand and gave her a firm shake.

“I love your outfit,” he said, leaning back to admire the lace body suit she paired with black skinny jeans. Her hand remained in his grasp as she threw her head back with a laugh. How beautifully ironic this interaction was.

“Thank you,” she responded, shaking her head at him in amusement as they dropped each other’s hands. “Guys never compliment girls on what they wear, so thank you for being a breath of fresh air.”

“Not even what’s-his-name?”

“Who?”

“Your boyfriend.”

She laughed again before offering his name.

“Garrett.”

“Garrett,” he scoffed. He knew he was probably treading on thin ice, but he also noticed how easily the laughter was falling from her lips, so he continued. “Garrett doesn’t compliment you?”

“Not tonight,” she said, gazing down at the glass in her hands. She didn’t mean for it to come out sounding that sad, and yet. “No.”

Jake frowned as he watched her close in on herself. The laughter was gone and her eyes had gone dark and the smile on her lips was upside down, so he asked, “Do you want to dance?”

And, because the five minutes she’d been around him made her smile harder than the past six months with Garrett, she decided to say, “I’d love to.”

In the middle of the dancefloor, he spun her into his chest. His free hand fell to her hips as her arms curled around his neck to rest her elbows on his shoulders. She giggled softly again before curling her fingers into the hair at the nape of his neck.

It started out innocent enough, but as the music changed so did the air between them. It wasn’t long before her back was pressed against his chest, glasses forgotten on a table a few steps away from them. His hands danced along her sides and wrapped around her waist to pull her close. 

He liked the way she laughed and the way she felt against him and he noticed that she would lull her head to the side when he leaned down to whisper in her ear. His breath tickled her neck and she reacted immediately and it turned him on. He wanted to touch her bare skin, he wanted to kiss her neck, and he wondered if he could press his luck. He reached up, brushed her hair behind her, and leaned in to place a chaste kiss against her neck.

Nothing more happened, though they danced through another few songs before he was dragged away from her to rejoin his friends. He practically begged for her phone and left his number under a contact name of Jane (“Just in case Gary sees,” he explained. “Garrett,” she corrected him.)

When she returned home that night, she jumped in the shower immediately, earning confused looks from her roommates. She told them that she just felt gross when she really just needed to wash him off her skin.

---

February 12th, 2019

“Garrett, wonderful to see you.”

“Likewise.”

Sutton laughed to herself at the sarcastic formalities exchanged between her boyfriend and Mia. It had been a few weeks since her night out with the girls and, even though Sutton and Garrett hadn’t fought since, Mia still couldn’t stand seeing him in their apartment.

“Where’s my girl?”

“Bedroom.”

Sutton heard him approaching and pulled the door open. When he stepped in, he held up a jersey and waved it in her direction.

“You can wear my Pasta jersey tonight,” he spoke. “He’s one of our best players.”

She reached out and took it from his hand, but he didn’t release it. Instead, he leaned in and puckered his lips for a kiss. She complied after mentally rolling her eyes at him. He let go of the jersey, and she slipped it on over a long sleeve shirt. “Are you excited?”

“Yeah, baby,” he answered, stepping up behind her as she check herself out in the mirror. He wound his arms around her waist and kissed her neck. “This is such a great gift.”

“I’m glad,” she said softly, thinking about all the money she’d spent on it. He better have liked it, if not only for the dent it left in her wallet.

They made it to their seats five minutes before puck drop. He spent most of their ride to the Garden talking her ear off about the team and the season they’d been having, but Sutton never cared much for sports so most of it was in one ear and out the other.

It wasn’t until the team came out for the beginning of the game that Sutton’s worlds collided. Above her head on the massive Jumbotron, Jake was smiling down at her. She gasped, hand jolting in surprise just enough to spill some beer on Garrett’s jeans.

“Sutton, what the hell?” he grunted, wiping the liquid off his leg. She muttered an apology, but her eyes were already searching the ice for the boy she’d been considering a missed connection. He stood at center ice, shuffling on his skates as the anthem played. And his number? 74. Just like the jersey Garrett was wearing.

She was flustered in the very worst way. It felt like she was barely functioning, unable to carry a conversation with Garrett because her mind was so clearly on Jake. It was made even worse whenever she caught a glimpse of his last name branded across Garrett’s back. She felt a little bit sick, and a little bit guilty, even though she didn’t really have a reason to be.

On the way back to her apartment, Garrett chattered on about the game while she stared down at her phone in her lap. It felt heavier now that she’d been reminded of the number in her phone.

He walked her up to her apartment, though she kind of hoped he’d just stay in the car, and waited for her to change out of his jersey before going. Kate began to chat with him, and Sutton made a mental note to thank her later for at least being polite.

“What are you guys going to do for Valentines?”

“Well, we just had an early Valentines’ date tonight,” he said. Sutton reentered the room at that moment, wishing she had stayed in her bedroom for a moment longer so she didn’t have to hear that. “Did you have fun, baby?”

She nodded because she genuinely thought if she opened her mouth that she would cry.

“Oh!” Kate responded. Her face was white, eyes shifting uncomfortably between her best friend and the guy who’d just crushed her spirit. “No dinner on the day of?”

Garrett offered the girls a performative pouted, dropping an arm over Sutton’s shoulders, as he responded, “I tried to get reservations at Sutton’s favorite spot, but they’re all booked up.”

“When did you try to do that?” Kate asked, eyebrows raised in shock.

“I called last weekend.”

“Garrett, it’s Valentines’ Day,” Mia grunted as she entered the room. He glared at her. “You can’t just call the weekend before and get a table. You should’ve planned in advance.”

“Oh, no,” Sutton spoke up, suddenly finding her voice as she waved off their concerns. “It’s really not a big deal. We’ve been together for so long, you know? We’ve celebrated way too many things. Besides, Valentines’ is just a money maker, right?”

“You crack me up,” he murmured. He leaned in and pressed a kiss to Sutton’s lips. “Listen, babe, I have to run. Early morning tomorrow. I’ll call you, okay?”

“Okay.”

Kate and Mia waited until they heard the elevator doors close before launching into a dramatic monologue about how much they hated him, how Sutton deserved better. Sutton, on the other hand, made herself a grilled cheese while they ranted at her and tried to tune them out.

When she was in bed later that night, she couldn’t find it in her to turn on the television or read the book she’d bought earlier that afternoon. Instead, she stared blankly at the wall in front of her and let her brain run a mile a minute.

Finally, after about thirty minutes, she grabbed her phone and pulled up Jake’s contact. She laughed at the contact photo, a goofy selfie he’d taken of himself just before leaving her that night.

When were you going to tell me you were a professional hockey player?

She deleted it and retyped it about five times before just hitting send and hoping for the best.

Across the city, Jake was slipping into his apartment and nearly dropped the food he grabbed on the way home when he saw her name flash across the screen. He smiled when he read her message and settled down at the kitchen table to respond before eating.

Right now, I guess

Bubbles popped up on his screen immediately as she typed out a message of her own. He locked his phone, then unlocked it, watching the bubbles intently as if urging her to type faster.

I was at the game tonight… My boyfriend wore your jersey.

Jake licked his bottom lip, tugging it between his teeth to suppress the cocky grin that was finding its way to his lips.

What did you wear?

Sutton laughed at the undertone of the message, but before she could respond he’d already sent another.

I don’t mean it like you think I do. Get your mind out of the gutter.

Her response: I wore a Pastrnak jersey… And my mind isn’t in the gutter

Well, why don’t you just rip my heart out, Sutton???

The next morning, she woke up to a follow request from him and the realization that a simple shower wasn’t going to make him go away.

---

February 14th, 2019

In the two days since Garrett dropped the bomb about the lack of Valentines’ plans, Sutton had come to terms with it. It was okay that they weren’t going out to some fancy dinner surrounded by happy couples or desperate singles… As long as he did something to make up for it.

Quite honestly, she wasn’t asking for much.

Flowers would be great, she thought. But, at this point, she would settle for a heartfelt card (or, hell, even a text).

She woke up to a coffee, still hot, waiting for her on the counter with a sweet Post-It note from Kate. Mia even snuck freshly baked cookies into the girls’ lunches. Sutton would be making dinner in their apartment that night as her contribution to their Valentines’ Day plans. At the end of the day, she knew she’d be thankful she spent the night with her girls instead of Garrett.

Maybe that was a problem.

There were no flowers waiting for her when she got to work, and still none by lunchtime. She checked with the office’s receptionist three times that day, wondering if she’d missed a call or something like that. But she hadn’t.

It was around 4 p.m., two hours until the end of her work day, when she heard the mail cart rolling down the hallway.

“Special delivery for Miss Beckett!”

Sutton’s heart fluttered. She practically danced out to the hallway from her desk. The cute elderly man who delivered the mail was standing just beyond the threshold with a black box wrapped in a beautiful white bow.

“Thank you, Earl.”

“Enjoy, beautiful,” he said. “He better treat you right or someone else might come and snatch you up.”

Sutton laughed politely as she walked back to her desk. She placed the box down and squealed excitedly as she pulled the ribbon apart. She took the top off, pulled back the tissue paper, and revealed a Bruins t-shirt with a note that read: You’d look better in #74 than your boyfriend

+

While Kate and Mia set the dinner table that night, Sutton found herself preoccupied with dinner and Jake DeBrusk, once again. She’d been thinking about his gift all day.

Since she texted him the other night, they’d been Snapchatting a little bit. It was never anything of substance, just photos of his sneakers or skates and her coffees. They hadn’t exchanged any message since earlier that morning, and certainly not after the arrival of his gift, but she knew she’d have to thank him eventually. It made her nervous to think about. She typed out a dozen of texts, but kept talking herself out of it and deleting them. She was so far in her head that she couldn’t figure out how to deal with the situation.

She figured that she should’ve been more upset with him. Sending her a gift on Valentines’ Day when he knew she had boyfriend was clearly crossing a line and she knew she needed to stop him before he took it too far. But, she couldn’t help but ask herself if she even wanted to.

Against her better judgement, Sutton decided she needed to ask for help from the girls. So, as she placed the entrée down on their dining table, she announced, “I need to talk to you guys. And I need you to not be crazies, or jump to conclusions, or anything like that.”

“If it’s about Garrett, I’m liable to be a little crazy.”

“It’s not about him,” she said. “Well, it kind of is. Indirectly, at least.”

“Spit it out, Sutton.”

“Remember when we went out after Garrett and I fought at the end of last month?” she asked. The girls nodded, already digging into the food on their plate despite Sutton being too nervous to put anything on her own. Kate noticed and began shoveling food onto her plate for her, pushing it towards her after it was full. “I met a guy.”

“Excuse me?” Mia blurted out. “What do you mean you met a guy?”

“His name was Jake,” she continued. The girls nodded along, hanging onto every word that Sutton said while she went through the details of the night she met him, and the night she saw him again. They both had smiles on their faces, giggling at the way Sutton relayed their texts from two nights prior.

Kate couldn’t believe she had been talking to a player on the Bruins. Mia was just happy she was talking to someone other than Garrett.

“He sent me one of those t-shirt jerseys,” she said. “Today.”

“Today?!”

“Yeah, and he left a note that said ‘you’d look better in #74 than your boyfriend’.”

The girls swooned.

“I love him!” Mia announced. Kate nodded in agreement. “You have to call him and say thank you.”

“Call him?”

“Absolutely!”

“I feel guilty,” she admitted. “I should probably let him down easy, right? I have a boyfriend, and he knows that. He shouldn’t have sent me that gift… Let alone on Valentines’ Day!”

As expected, her roommates groaned or eye rolled or reacted in whatever frustrated way they wanted to.

“We’ll clean up after dinner if you call him.”

+

Jake declined her call, and then FaceTimed her back. She threw the phone onto her bed, far away from her, at the sight of herself and grabbed an elastic from her dresser to tame the frizzy locks on her head.

“What kind of psychopath FaceTimes someone they hardly know?!” Sutton screamed to her roommates. She heard them laughing in the living room. “And without warning!”

“Answer him!” Mia yelled. “I hate the sound of your ringtone!”

Sutton huffed out in frustration and plopped onto her bed, checking once more to see if she looked okay. She pressed her thumb over the front camera and answered.

Jake was grinning when he popped up, but then he frowned comically.

“I FaceTimed you for a reason.”

“And I voice called you for a reason.”

Sutton watched as Jake threw his head back with a laugh and smiled despite herself. He was in a hotel bed, at least that’s what it looked like, and he was laying on his side, propped up on his elbow. He stared at the black screen on his end of the call and sighed.

“Sutton, show yourself.”

She rolled her eyes, but did as she was told and pulled her thumb off the camera. Before he could say anything, she asked, “How did you know where I work?”

“You put the building on your Instagram story yesterday,” he answered. “And the company is in your Instagram bio. I put two and two together.”

“I really appreciate the gift, Jake, but I have a boyfriend.”

Jake blinked at Sutton, unphased by the statement, before finally saying, “I know that.”

“You really shouldn’t be sending me gifts on Valentines’ Day.”

“It’s Valentines’ Day?” he asked. She honestly couldn’t tell if he was serious or he was just joking around. He laughed softly at her confused expression. “Relax, Sutton. I just wanted to get you the jersey before our game tomorrow night.”

“Oh.”

“Oh,” he teased. She rolled her eyes. “Was he mad?”

“He didn’t see it.”

“Why? Did you throw it out? Don’t tell me you threw it out. I mean, it’s not a big deal. I could pay for a new one, but I always hoped if anyone was going to get rid of my jersey they would burn it. It’s so much cooler that way.”

Sutton laughed at him, and Jake beamed at the sound. He hadn’t heard it since the night at the club and it was just as pretty as he remembered.

“I wouldn’t do that.”

“Shouldn’t you be out right now?” he asked. “It’s only 9 p.m. You look like you’re in bed.”

“That’s because I am in bed.”

“Why?”

“Because I have work tomorrow.”

“What did you do tonight?”

“You ask so many questions.”

“I’m trying to get to know you.”

Although they were a whole country apart from each other, him in a hotel room in California and her in bed in Boston, she felt vulnerable. It was because of the way he was looking at her through the screen, the softness of his voice when he was flirting with her, the not-Valentines’ gift and handwritten note that still sat beside her.

“I made dinner for my roommates and I,” she answered. “It was nice.”

“You and Garrett have roommates?”

“Oh, my God,” Sutton grumbled. He was really going to make her spell it out for him wasn’t she. (And, yes, he fully intended to.) “No. I don’t live with him. I live with my two best friends.”

“Did he not spend Valentines’ with you?”

“No, he did,” she said. Her voice dropped to a mumble. “Two nights ago, at TD Garden with you and thousands of other people.”

“Tell me he got you a better gift than a t-shirt with my last name on it,” Jake pleaded, no longer finding the humor in teasing her about him. Sutton grit her teeth in response, not wanting to tell him the truth but knowing she couldn’t lie. “I am your fucking Valentine.”

“No, you’re not.”

“I am by default,” he argued. “And so are your roommates apparently.”

“We celebrated early! Why is that so crazy?”

“Who bought the tickets to the game?” Jake asked. Her silence spoke volumes. “You did, huh?” Sutton nodded. “What kind of asshole doesn’t get his girlfriend a gift on Valentines’ day? What kind of asshole doesn’t even bring her out to dinner?”

“Jake, that’s enough.”

“Did he send you flowers? A card?”

“Jake!” Sutton yelled. He pulled his phone away from his face at the sharpness of her tone. “I don’t want to hear it from you. I already hear it from my roommates. I don’t need to hear it from you. You don’t even know me.”

“Well, I want to.”

There was a pause in conversation, a moment of intense eye contact (if you could even call it that through the phone). Then, Sutton dropped her head back in frustration.

“Why?”

“Because I’ve been thinking about you since I first met you.”

“I have a boyfriend, Jake.”

“Sort of.”

“Stop.”

“Okay.”

Sutton let out a frustrated sigh and Jake watched her run her free hand through her hair while her eyes gazed at something across the room. They looked like they were welling up and Jake frowned, the feeling of helplessness washing over him as he realized he didn’t quite know how to make the situation any better.

“You’re going to wear the shirt tomorrow, though, right?” he asked, forcing a grin onto his face. She looked at him and laughed. “Because if you tell me you’re wearing a Pasta jersey again, it will break my heart.”

“Yes, I’ll wear your jersey.”

They spent another thirty minutes on the phone talking about nothing important. Jake was happy to be talking to her for real, not through Snapchats that he had to disguise as snaps he sent to everyone on his contact list. As their time together ended, it was clear neither of them was quite ready to hang up.

“I’ll admit,” she started. Jake’s eyebrows perked up. “I like talking to you, Jake DeBrusk.”

“I knew I’d wear you down at some point.”

“But I have a boyfriend.”

“What did I say at the bar?” he asked. She narrowed her eyes at him, unsure of what he was referring to. The only thing that came to mind from that night was the feeling of his lips against her skin. It was hard to remember everything else. He made her head fuzzy. “We can just be friends.”

---

March 1st, 2019

Sutton’s relationship with Garrett and her friendship with Jake were never supposed to come closer to intersecting than it had on February 12th and there were a few reasons for that.

The first was that Sutton didn’t want to taint the friendship she had with Jake by throwing Garrett into the equation. It just felt too close for comfort. Besides, she knew the two wouldn’t get along. Jake was giggly, happy, full of life. Garrett was serious, grumpy, exhausting. Just because she liked being around them separately did not mean she’d like them together.

The second was that she knew if Garrett found out about their friendship, he would be pissed. There was a reason she shied away from having guy friends. Garrett hated sharing her with other guys, and that included her work husband who was a gay man in his 40s. He was slightly possessive, but she brushed it off as his own insecurities and vowed not to make the relationship more difficult than it needed to be. Just like everything else in life, Sutton catered the relationship to him.

Kate and Mia found humor in the way that Sutton’s life had suddenly become a revolving door. Garrett was there one minute and the second he was gone Jake was showing up at their front door. They started referring to the two parts of Sutton’s life as church and state. Always separate.

She found it easy to keep it that way. Her friendship with Jake was almost completely virtual, save for a happy hour or two. He was busy with hockey, so she didn’t have to worry about him asking her to hang out on the weekends or ever at night. She reserved those for Garrett.

Besides, something about being with another guy after sunset just felt a little scandalous to her and she didn’t need anyone—Jake, Kate and Mia, Garrett, herself—getting the wrong idea.

Nights with Garrett were few and far between. He seemed to be getting busier and busier at work, but Sutton played the part of the doting girlfriend (which really she was) even better. She made him dinner before he went in for night shifts, waited for him to come home from working overtime to give him a massage, made him breakfast before he went out to work again.

Things seemed to be getting better between them, despite his busy schedule. So much so that he met her at work that Friday to bring her to happy hour. He said he wanted to check out a new place downtown, and she went happily because it finally felt right.

Apparently, the opening of this bar was highly anticipated because the place was packed. Unlike Valentines’ Day, Garrett called ahead. Sutton kept the sarcastic comments swirling through her mind to herself and settled into the booth across from him with a sweet smile.

They browsed the menu; Sutton a little longer than Garrett due to her indecisiveness. He gazed around the bar, taking in the atmosphere and then the sight of not one, not two, but a whole group of Boston Bruins.

“Sutton, you’ll never guess who just walked in,” he said in an excited whisper. Sutton gazed up at him from the menu with a smile, then followed his eyes to the door. “Do you know who that is?”

Among a group of men in athletic clothing stood Jake in a Bruins sweatshirt. She spun back to face Garrett and shook her head to give him the illusion that she had no idea who they were even though her heart was about to jump out of her chest.

“Those are some of the Bruins players,” he murmured. “I gotta get a picture with them.”

“Well, why don’t you just let them get drinks and then you can ask for a picture before we leave,” she suggested. The shake of her voice was enough to give her away, if Garrett would only listen.

“That’s Jake DeBrusk,” he continued, eyes still trained on the men across the room. “And Charlie McAvoy.”

“Stop staring, babe,” she said. She took his chin between her fingers and redirected his attention to her. “It’s rude to stare.”

“Well, I’m sorry,” he grumbled, leaning back against his seat. “It’s like if one of those podcasters you liked walked in. I’m star struck.”

Sutton’s heart was pounding in her chest long after Garrett stopped staring at the players that had entered the bar. She knew Jake wouldn’t notice her with her back to him, and since he’d never met Garrett it was impossible that he’d even recognize him. But with Garrett jumping for joy at the opportunity to meet them, she knew she couldn’t avoid him completely.

She spent the entire time trying to figure out how this was going to go down, and even when it came down to it she couldn’t be sure she was making the right decision.

She gathered her things, including her nerves, as Garrett approached Jake. He’d been on the way to the bar when Garrett reached him and the two exchanged polite conversation, smile plastered across Jake’s face as usual.

“Sutton, baby, would you come take a picture for us?”

His smile dropped the moment Sutton locked eyes with him.

“Sure!” she said cheerily, diverting her eyes from his stare. She flitted over to take Garrett’s hand in hers. Jake watched, stomach turning. He was frozen in place. She wasn’t even going to say hello? She wouldn’t meet his eyes or even give him a playful look, a wink even, to acknowledge him behind Garrett’s back.

Jake clenched his jaw and led them back to the table, teeth grinding against each other like they never have before.

“Boys, real quick picture, okay?”

Everything moved so fast. Garrett jumped in with them, Sutton snapped the picture, then stepped away as Garrett praised them on the season they’d been having. She ignored the way Jake was staring at her, tapping away at her phone instead of engaging with him. Like, what else was she supposed to do?

“What’s your name?” Charlie called out. Sutton looked up at him, anxious as all hell that the cat was going to be out of the bag in approximately five seconds. Thankfully, Garrett was talking to one of the other guys they were with and she caught her breath. “You look familiar.”

“Familiar?” she asked with a laugh. Jake watched her carefully. “I don’t think we’ve met before.”

Charlie looked skeptical and then, as he turned to ask Jake if he thought you look familiar too, it clicked.

“Holy shit,” he murmured. And then, as he looked back and forth between the two of them, he also realized the tension. “Holy shit.”

Jake shook his head at Charlie before turning to sit in his chair. Sutton stared at his back, hating every choice she’d made in the minutes before.

“Well, listen, I’ll let you guys get back to it,” Garrett finally said. Sutton redirected her attention to him, hand curling around his forearm as he reached out to her. “Good luck the rest of the way.”

He received words of thanks from the men as they turned back to their food and drinks, and then he was guiding her out of the entrance of the restaurant. Sutton stole one last glance at Jake on the way out and knew that she fucked up.

For the rest of the meal, Jake was quieter than usual because his head was reeling. He was stupid to ever get attached to her. All the time they’d spent talking made him forget that she already had someone at home. Seeing him with her, holding her hand, snapped Jake back to reality. He needed to give himself space.

That’s why when Sutton texted him that night to apologize. (I’m sorry about today! I didn’t really know what I was supposed to do. But thanks for taking a picture with him.)

He left her on read.

---

March 4th, 2019

Nights were meant for Garrett, but Sutton gave herself one pass.

Jake hadn’t answered her texts or Snapchats since happy hour. She knew the way she acted was shitty, but did he expect her to just tell Garrett about him? It seemed like mess of situation that she didn’t want to get into. Three days later, and after numerous attempts to get in contact with him, she had to go full-on stalker mode.

Jake was at practice late that afternoon, so she planned to grab his favorite meal from a local Thai restaurant and drop it at his apartment when he was home later that night. She followed through, feeling confident in herself as she marched towards his apartment with her head held high.

That feeling dissipated almost as soon as the elevator left the ground floor, but she kept it pushing despite the anxiety. At his door, she knocked once, and waited. No response came. She knocked two more times with the same result and decided to give up.

Maybe it was a sign from the universe that she wasn’t supposed to try to fix this. She took this thought in stride, turning to walk away from his door and find shelter in her apartment across the city. And then the elevator opened and Jake stepped out.

They both stopped in their tracks.

“What are you doing here?”

“I wanted to drop this off,” she answered, extending the Styrofoam take-out box to him. He walked toward her with his duffel bag over his shoulder looking tired and sweaty. He took the box from her hand as he passed by her to unlock his door.

He was momentarily stunned into silence. She had texted him and called him a few times since happy hour, but he figured she’d just stop trying eventually. The thought of never seeing her again stung, but he gave himself a lengthy pep talk the day after the Garrett fiasco and then he re-downloaded all his dating apps.

“I’m going to go.”

“Hold up,” he murmured, kicking the door open. “Come inside for a minute.” Her feet remained planted to the carpeted hallway beneath her feet. She glanced at the elevator, then back at him. “Or don’t.”

Jake pushed the door open enough to slip through it with an annoyed huff of air, and then it slammed shut behind him.

She continued down the hall despite the invitation she desperately wanted to take. She reached the elevator and pressed the button to call it up to his floor. The whir of the car started immediately. The doors opened just a minute later, but Sutton was already on the way back to Jake’s front door.

She only knocked once before he was swinging the door open and stepping aside to welcome her in.

Jake walked straight into the kitchen where the microwave was already heating up the Thai food she’d brought for him. While she sat at the counter, Jake leaned up against the opposite side and asked, “What did you buy me Thai for?”

“It’s an apology.”

“The Thai food is an apology?”

“Yes.”

“For what?” he asked, crossing his arms over his chest. He narrowed his eyes at her, as if he had no idea what he was talking about. He knew damn well what it was for. He just wanted her to say it herself.

“For happy hour the other day.”

Jake hummed, seemingly satisfied by her answer, and grabbed the food from the beeping microwave before slipping out of the kitchen to the living room. Sutton stood there a moment longer, ignoring her overwhelming urge to find a pillow and scream right into it.

“Do you want me to leave you alone?”

Her question was followed by a moment of silence until he reappeared in the doorway. He gave her an amused look before he stepped over to the utensil drawer to grab two forks.

“Sutton, when have I ever wanted you to leave me alone?” He paused. “Do you want me to leave you alone?”

“No.”

“Great.” He turned and continued out of the room. “Come eat.”

Jake sat on the floor on one side of his coffee table, and Sutton sat across from him. He turned the television on to some rerun of Friends and watched absentmindedly while they ate, his quiet chuckles the only thing filling the air around them.

Sutton watched him, mostly because he wasn’t looking at her, and felt relief wash over her. The tension in her shoulders over almost everything going on in her life was momentarily cured just because she was near him. She knew the Thai food was only a momentary solution and that a more serious conversation would follow later, but she didn’t care. This moment was something she’d been wanting since she saw him on Friday.

After eating, Jake showered and left Sutton in the living room to pick a movie for them to watch. When he returned, she was sitting on the opposite end of the couch from where he had been. He settled down onto the cushion without a word, eyes grazing over the description of the movie she’d picked out.

“Feels weird to have you all the way over there,” he said softly.

She stood and readjusted herself on the cushion beside him. Her legs folded beneath her as she pulled her sweatshirt sleeves over her hands. He noticed the way she was curling into herself and sighed in defeat, dropping his head against the back of the couch.

“Are you cold?” he asked. Sutton glanced over at him. “Or do you just feel that weird around me now?” She frowned. He looked away from her, muttering, “If I had known that you were going to be there with him, I would’ve gone somewhere else.”

“This is so fucked up,” she groaned into her hands. “That’s so unfair to you, Jake.”

“What do you mean?”

“You would have gone somewhere else? So that I could keep my friendship with you private from my relationship? Who does that?” she rambled. “Christ. Why do you deal with this? I’m such a shitty friend.”

“You’re not shitty, Sutt.”

“Yes! I am!” she exclaimed. “I should’ve just told Garrett that we met, but I didn’t because I knew he’d be pissy and I didn’t want to deal with it. Now, look! I’ve just made the situation worse because I hurt you and dug myself into a hole even deeper than it already was.”

“Why would you even think he’d be mad?”

“There’s a reason I’m only friends with girls, Jake.”

He stared at her long and hard after that admission feeling an anger boil in his stomach that he hadn’t felt in a very long time. Finally, he asked, “Does he not let you have friends who are guys?”

Sutton’s answered with a look.

“He—he doesn’t hit you, does he?”

“No!” she exclaimed. “No. Never. I wouldn’t be with him if he was, like, abusive.” She almost couldn’t get the words out because she realized how ridiculous she sounded. She couldn’t even believe herself.

Jake huffed, his eyes rolling in frustration, as he said, “Okay, so he’s not physically abusive.”

“Jake.”

“No, I know,” he murmured. “You don’t want to talk about it. You never want to talk about it.”

He turned his attention back to the TV screen, jaw clenched so he could hold back all the words he wanted to say. He kept it to himself, knowing that if he spoke he’d be speaking out of anger and it would just make the situation worse.

So, he waited until he was composed. He waited until he was levelheaded. And level headed Jake cared more about keeping his friendship with Sutton intact than telling her that her boyfriend was a piece of shit.

“I hate being mad at you so much,” he said with a sigh. She pouted at him. “You’re like my best friend.”

“You’re mine, too,” she whispered. Jake stretched and pulled her into him for a hug. She relaxed in his arms, sighing softly into the crook of his neck. “I’m sorry.”

“It’s okay,” he said. “I just wish you wouldn’t let him control your life the way you do.”

Sutton pulled away and sighed.

“Things are good between us right now,” she said. “I know you don’t really understand it. Kate and Mia don’t either, I know that. It’s just that Garrett has been good to me. I’m happy.”

“Okay.”

“And I know that our friendship started out a little flirtatiously,” she continued. “But I can’t let you get the wrong idea, Jake. I’m happy with Garrett and I don’t want to lose you because of it. We’re—”

“We’re just friends,” Jake jumped in. “That’s what we have been since you yelled at me for buying you a Valentines’ gift.”

“I just wanted to make sure that the lines weren’t blurred.”

“Not blurred,” he insisted. “You’re my friend, Sutt. That’s all.”

---

March 17th, 2019

Jake was on his way to Sutton’s apartment because Garrett did something fucked up. He was beginning to forget how to treat Sutton again and Jake found himself picking up the pieces more than once. It wasn’t his job. He knew that, and yet he was still showing up to check on her.

Boston was in full-on party mode for St. Patrick’s Day and though Jake had been invited to a teammate’s house that night, he was on his way to Sutton’s apartment with ice cream. She answered the door, eyes rolling when she saw Jake on the other side. She told the girls not to tell him what Garrett had done that day… Clearly, they didn’t listen.

“Why are you here?”

“That was not a nice hello,” he noted as he pushed past her. He stepped into the kitchen and grabbed two spoons before entering the living room with Sutton hot on his heels. “What are you doing?”

“I was watching Project Runway,” she told him. She grabbed the remote and paused the television. He raised an eyebrow at her.

“Is Project Runway your emotional support show?”

“Who says I need emotional support?”

“Your roommates.”

“God, they’re so nosy,” she muttered. “I told them not to call you.”

“I would’ve figured it out even if they didn’t,” he said. He sat down on the couch and opened the pint of ice cream he’d brought with him. “I knew something was wrong just from the way you were texting me.”

“How?”

“Just your general lack of interest in the conversation.”

“Sorry.”

“All good,” he said, waving her off. He lifted the pint up toward her. “That’s why I came with your favorite flavor!”

Sutton fell to the couch beside him and grabbed a spoon, heart fluttering at his thoughtfulness. He pulled her legs over his lap and gazed over at her as she started digging into the Ben & Jerry’s in her hand.

“So, what happened?”

“Today’s our anniversary,” she explained. She handed him the pint after placing the spoon in her mouth, eyes fluttering shut as the flavor exploded in her mouth. Jake huffed, scooping out a spoonful for himself.  

“Why isn’t he celebrating with you?”

“He had a St. Patrick’s party at his office,” she answered. “He’s up for a huge promotion at work, again, so he’s sucking up.”

“He couldn’t bring a plus-one?”

“I didn’t ask.”

Sutton might’ve asked Garrett at the beginning of their relationship, but she would never ask him to demand a plus-one now. And there was a very good reason for this. She was sure that if he’d dragged her along, she would find out something that she didn’t want to know. Something along the lines of him cheating on her.

All the signs were there, but she didn’t want to believe it. Or confront him about it.

And she certainly didn’t want to tell Jake.

“That’s so unfair to you,” he grumbled, passing the ice cream back to her. “You should say something to him. I thought things were going well for a little bit.”

“Yeah, well,” she said dismissively. “This is how things are between us.”

“Isn’t it exhausting, Sutton?”

“A little bit.”

“You deserve better than exhausting.”

+

When Kate and Mia got home later that night, they found the two of them wrapped up in each other and a message on the television asking if they were still watching their show. The sound of the door slamming shut startled the two awake and, under the watchful eyes of her roommates, Sutton scrambled off him.

“Hi, sleepy heads.”

“What time is it?” Jake grumbled, reaching out for his phone. He read the time, dropping his head against the pillow in frustration. Sutton left the room in search of sweatshirt and Jake found himself cornered by the other two girls. “I have to go.”

He stood, running his hands through his hair to contain the locks that were sticking up from the pillow. The roommates watched him with amused smiles.

“That was sweet,” Kate said. Mia nodded in agreement, but he just rolled his eyes.

“Friends,” he said. A sigh of disappointment fell from Kate’s lips. “That’s what she wants. That’s what I’m giving her. Don’t complicate it.”

“You two are so full of shit,” Mia grumbled as she marched out of the living room.

When Sutton returned, she looked ready for bed. Her hair was pulled up into a bun and her sweatshirt hung loose over her much smaller body. Kate was in the kitchen, out of sight, so Sutton’s guard fell for a moment. She walked over to Jake and wrapped her arms around his waist to cuddle against his chest again.

“Talk to Garrett, would you?”

She looked up at him, almost pleading him to drop the subject, but caught the look in his eye and knew he was serious.

“Okay, I will.”

“I just want you to be happy,” he said. “And he makes you happy, right?”

---

March 26th, 2019

Charlie was disappointed in Jake. There he stood, in Charlie’s kitchen, with his hip cocked against the counter and his phone in his hand. It had been two months since he met this girl and he was still pining after her, even though she had a boyfriend. It was pathetic.

“Sutton?”

Jake hummed at him in response. Charlie rolled his eyes and ripped the phone from his hands like a middle school bully. He glanced down at the screen, eyes catching her name and a horrible grey text to blue text ratio.

“Dude, are you triple texting a girl with a boyfriend?”

He shoved the phone back to Jake who then placed it in his back pocket with a scowl.

“I’m worried about you.”

“We’re friends.”

“You got friendzoned by a girl you tried to hit on at a club,” Charlie pointed out. “Where did you go wrong?”

“I talked to her.”

“Is she coming tonight?” he asked, deciding to use mercy rules on his love-struck friend.

“Yep,” Jake answered, avoiding eye contact with Charlie. It didn’t go unnoticed by McAvoy and he was waiting for Jake to drop whatever bomb was coming. “I think she might be bringing her boyfriend.”

“What?”

“It’s my fault,” Jake said. “I told her she could bring him if she wanted to.”

“Why would you do that?”

“She wanted to be here to celebrate us clinching a playoff spot. And I really wanted to see her, but she also had dinner plans with him. So, I told her to bring him with her after dinner.”

“I don’t want that prick in my apartment.”

Although Charlie thought Jake’s crush was ridiculous, he started to become a little protective of her over the last two months. He was always hearing all the crazy stories about her boyfriend and how shitty he was to her. It made Charlie itch.

He’d been around Sutton a few times since he saw her at happy hour, mostly at Jake’s apartment and in passing. She spent some time there on the weekdays, when Charlie assumed Garrett was at work. She was always making sweets for Jake (he claimed it was because she was stressed, though Charlie thought it was something more than that). When she noticed that Charlie would steal half of them each time, she started leaving him a bag of goodies too.

Other than those few occurrences, Jake was mostly talking his ear off about the times they could grab lunch or drinks. And, though he was still completely head-over-heels for her, the relationship between the two of them seemed to shift to a more platonic type. Forget the constant flirting and you just had two best friends.

“I don’t want him here either,” Jake grumbled. “But I want her, so we’ll just have to deal.”

Truth be told, Jake had gotten better at just being her friend. She stopped telling him all the shitty stuff that Garrett did to her. Instead, they talked about work and the things they would do when they finally got time off. Even Kate and Mia stopped telling him when Sutton and Garrett fought.

It was a step in the right direction, but he still knew things weren’t going right. He could tell by the way she filled his counter with baked goods and picked out the sappy rom coms on movie nights. Both were becoming a daily occurrence, but Jake kept his mouth shut. 

He kept checking his phone for a sign of life from Sutton. Dinner with Garrett was at 6:30 p.m. 10:30 p.m. came around and his phone was still dry.

He hated himself for being so hung up on it because she was out with her boyfriend! Maybe they were having a great time, maybe for once in their relationship Garrett was doing the right thing and she was happy, maybe they’d gone back to his place… Jake shook off the traitorous thought.

He spent the night bouncing from group to group until Charlie pulled him into a conversation with some of his girlfriend’s friends. It was obvious, from the look in Charlie’s eyes, that this was a set up in progress. And, for the first time in a long time, Jake let it happen.

He talked to the girl in front of him, a small brunette with big brown eyes, for what seemed like hours. And not in a good way. He wondered if maybe she was being so boring to get him to kiss her, but it wasn’t working. He didn’t want to kiss her because he didn’t want to kiss anyone but Sutton.

Jake sighed, lifting his hand to the girls forearm to say, “It was really nice to meet you, but I’m gonna run to the bathroom.”

She looked at him like he punched her in the gut.

When he got to the bathroom, he peed and then stared at himself in the mirror for a little bit too long. He wasn’t even drunk. He just needed to have a moment with himself. Finally, when he felt centered, he leaned over the sink and splashed some cold water on his face before slipping out to the hallway once more.

“Jake!”

The sound of Sutton’s voice echoed off the walls of the hallway and set him off kilter once again. She bounded forward and wrapped her arms around his waist, effectively turning him to putty in her hands.

“Hi,” she greeted. She hung on him a little more than she usually did. Jake gazed down at her, thinking she looked a little bit like an angel with her hair pinned back like that.

His lips turned up into a small smile as he pressed a kiss against her forehead and murmured, “Hey.”

Mia turned down the hallway at that moment and let out a large exhale.

“Oh, good,” she huffed out. “She found you.”

Kate bumped into Mia from behind, apparently also in search of the sweet girl in his arms.

“She found him!”

“I found him!” Sutton exclaimed, clapping her hands over Jake’s cheeks as she looked up at him.

“You found me,” he responded with a soft laugh. He brushed a strand of hair behind her ear, then glanced up at her roommates over her shoulder with a concerned look.

Kate came forward, wrapping her arms around Sutton’s waist to pull her from Jake.

“Come to the bathroom with me?”

“Sure, lovebug!” Sutton exclaimed. She turned back to look at Jake and planted a kiss right on his lips so quickly that he didn’t even get a chance to close his eyes, pucker his lips, or savor the moment. With a shocked gasp, Kate pulled Sutton away to the bathroom down the hall.

Jake’s eyes widened when he looked back at Mia.

“What the fuck is happening?” he asked, reaching up to brush his fingers along the tingling on his lip.

“She thinks Garrett is cheating on her.”

“Weren’t they supposed to be at dinner tonight?”

“He didn’t show, so she checked his location,” Mia explained. “He’s at a coworker’s house. Apparently, it’s been happening for a while and she didn’t care to tell us until tonight.”

Jake couldn’t decide what he was feeling. He was simultaneously pissed off at Garrett for being a dickhead, and Sutton for kissing him in that moment, and himself for feeling butterflies.

“She ended up eating dinner at the bar of the restaurant by herself and came back to our place bombed,” Mia continued. “We tried to get her in bed, but she insisted on seeing you. So, here we are.”

“She can’t stay.”

“We know that,” she said. “But she won’t leave with just us.”

The two of them exchanged a knowing look before the door down the hall swung open and Sutton stepped out, pulling Kate along with her. Jake stuffed down his frustration towards her and walked over with a smile to pick her up in a hug. She giggled and pressed her forehead against his.

“Let’s go home, yeah?”

“I just got here!”

“Yeah, but I’d much rather be at your place right now.”

Sutton pouted. Jake pouted back. And then she was smiling again.

+

Charlie stopped Jake before he slipped out the door behind the girls. His fingers curled into his teammate’s bicep way harder than necessary. Jake winced beneath his grasp.

“You need to sort this Sutton situation out,” he spoke. “I saw her plant one on you.”

“I don’t know what’s going on with her.”

“You are going to let this girl rip your heart out if you don’t set some boundaries,” Charlie barked. “I know you love her and I know deep down she’s not a shitty person, but I think she needs to figure her shit out on her own. You need to stop trying to fix everything for her.”

The ride back to Sutton’s apartment was silent. Charlie’s words echoed in his head as he slipped into the back of the car with Sutton right behind. She kicked her legs up over his lap and snuggled into his chest. Knowing nothing would get solved with her this drunk, he sighed and wrapped his arm around her shoulders to pull her into him.

He couldn’t believe she just kissed him like that, especially because she thought Garrett might’ve been doing the same thing across the city. It felt like he was a pawn in her little game, and he hated that because Sutton was better than that. At least he thought so.

Soft snores fell from her lips moments after they pulled away from the apartment building. Without thinking, he began to massage the top of her head. Kate watched with a fond smile on her face.

Jake carried her up to the apartment, stirring her from sleep only as he placed her on her bed.

“Jake,” she murmured. He knelt beside her and started to unclasp the heels she was wearing.

“Sutton.”

“Thank you.”

He hummed, picking up the shoes to place them by her closet door.

“Come to the bathroom,” he urged, extending his hand to her. “We’ll get that make up off. You can brush your teeth.” He turned away from her once she was standing and smirked. “Maybe even throw up if you feel so inclined.”

Sutton hit him lightly on the back, a giggle falling from his lips at the teasing.

Jake rummaged through the cabinets in search of her make up wipes while she sat atop the counter and brushed her teeth. After rinsing, she watched him with tired eyes as he moved to stand between her legs.

He cupped the back of her neck to hold her head steady while he removed her makeup and tried not to think about the way that she was looking at him, or how she melted into his touch the moment he held her. Her eyes fluttered shut for him to get off her eye makeup. When they opened again, their eyes met in a steady, loving gaze.

“You’re going to be the death of me, Sutton,” he murmured. He stepped back and opened the bathroom door once more to usher her out. She did as she was told and retreated to her room to crawl into bed. He returned a few minutes later with a bottle of water and pain killers. He placed them on her bedside table.

“Are you mad at me?” she asked. Jake sat down beside her and she reached up to cup his cheek in her hand. He leaned against her palm as her thumb stroked his cheekbone.

“We’ll talk tomorrow,” he responded. Her eyes began to well up. “You’re working yourself up. Don’t do that. We’ll be fine, okay?”

“I’m sorry.”

“Okay.”

She brushed the tears away with the back of her hand and sniffled. Jake placed a kiss against her forehead before turning to leave. He stopped at the door and looked back at her as she settled beneath the comforter and snuggled the pillow beneath her head.

“Call me when you get up.”

+

Sutton didn’t call by 10 a.m. the next morning, so Jake swung by to check on her. Mia let him in and informed him that she still wasn’t awake. He walked down the hall anyway, stopping just beyond the threshold of her door before pushing it open to find her sprawled out with her face mushed into the pillow. He took a few silent steps towards her bed and sat at the edge of it before lightly shaking her awake.

She woke with a start, the touch of Jake’s hand against her ankle shocking her enough to sit up right.

“Ouch,” she grumbled, squinting her eyes at the light filtering in from the window as she brought a hand to her head to stop the throbbing. Jake sprung up to shut the blinds. “Thank you.”

“I thought you’d be awake already,” he said, standing in front of the remaining rays of light coming through the window. “Get up. Let’s get breakfast.”

Jake was beyond anxious as they walked to her local diner. He wondered if she could tell that he was off or if she even remembered what happened. The way that she was talking, so nonchalant and unbothered, gave him the impression that she had no clue what damage she’d done last night.

“I honestly don’t remember getting to Charlie’s last night,” she admitted as they sat in a booth beside the window. “I remember seeing you in bits and pieces.”

“Really? Do you remember that I put you to bed?”

“Oh, Jake.” She dropped her head into her palms as she shook her head in disappointment at herself. He tried to hide the frown on his lips by turning his attention to the coffee in front of him. He ripped open a sugar packet and dumped it into the mug as Sutton grumbled about how sorry she was.

She continued talking, but Jake was finding it hard to listen. How could she act like nothing was wrong when it felt like the weight of his whole world was crushing him?

“When are you gonna tell me about your dinner with Garrett?” he blurted out as he finally met her eyes again. Her mouth snapped shut and realization set in that he wasn’t the happy-go-lucky Jake she thought she was grabbing breakfast with. He was not happy.

“He didn’t show up. He had something work related to take care of.”

“At his coworker’s house?”

“How do—”

“Mia filled me in when you showed up at Charlie’s,” he answered. “You were already plastered when you got to the party.” He paused. “Why didn’t you call me when he didn’t show?”

“Because it’s not your job to pick up the pieces every time he fucks up.”

“Then who will? Yourself? Because you did a pretty shitty job of it last night,” he spat. Sutton sat back against the vinyl seat behind her, shocked at his outburst. He paused, inhaling deeply before dropping the bomb. “You kissed me. Do you remember that, Sutton?”

Her jaw dropped and a hand came up to clasp over her mouth in shock as she mumbled out an apology that Jake didn’t want to hear.

“I like you, Sutton. I like being around you and talking to you. But, you drew a line months ago… A line that I’ve stopped trying to cross. And then you just kissed me, like there’d be no consequences.”

“I shouldn’t have done that.”

“But you did. And this morning you still woke up as his girlfriend, and you will tomorrow morning too. So, all I’m asking is that you figure your shit out with him and you don’t drag me into it. You can’t just kiss me because you think he also might be kissing someone else. That’s not fair. You wanted friends, so I gave you friends.”

As if by some divine intervention, their meals came at that moment and the conversation was dropped immediately. When they reached the front door of Sutton’s apartment, Jake didn’t try to come in like he usually did on hungover Sunday mornings. Instead, he stopped at the door.

“Sutton, I’m saying this to you as your friend and nothing more,” he started. “I can’t be around you until you figure your shit out. I’m tired of being your second choice. You have to figure out your worth and I can’t hold your hand until you get there. It’s driving me crazy.”

She stared up at him, eyes welling up with tears, and realized that the best thing in her life was about to walk away. A rogue tear slipped down her cheek, but she wiped it away quickly hoping that he wouldn’t notice. He did, though, he always did.

He pulled her into his arms, engulfing her in an embrace despite the conversation at hand. She stayed still for a moment, rigid even, until she heard Jake let out a shuddering breath into the crook of her neck. Only then did she reciprocate the hug, arms wrapping around his neck like he was her anchor.

---

May 17th, 2019

Sutton didn’t know what she expected to see when she walked into the club, but it definitely wasn’t Jake dancing on a table in the VIP section. She watched as Charlie grabbed his arm and pulled him back down to solid ground, unable to peel her eyes off the boy who’d become a stranger.

“Did you see him?” she asked Mia.

“I don’t think there’s a single person at this club that didn’t.”

When they reached a table, she glanced back in his direction, but the crowd had grown so thick that she couldn’t find him. Kate, who’d already made a beeline for the bar, found them moments later with drinks in hand. She handed one to each of the girls. She took one glance at Sutton and asked, “What’s the face for?”

“In true Sutton Beckett fashion, Jake was the first thing she saw when we walked in here.”

“Jake’s here?”

“Why do you think we’re here, Kate?” Mia asked. Sutton looked at her with a slight panic to her expression. Mia raised her eyebrows at her with a smirk. “Yeah, I know all your tricks.”

“He posted it on his Instagram story, okay?”

Kate dropped her face into her palms, grumbling, “Why won’t you just call him like a normal person?”

“I’m planning to,” she said defensively. Mia hummed in disagreement. “What? I will! Eventually. Like at the end of the season probably.” The girls groaned at that answer. “I don’t even know if he wants to talk to me. He said he didn’t wanna be around until I figured my shit out.”

“Yeah, and you broke up with Garrett two months ago!” Kate exclaimed while Mia grunted, “You like sabotaging yourself, don’t you?”

“You both suck.”

After Jake left that morning, Sutton felt like she cried forever. The door shut behind him and she sank down to the floor and sobbed. Mia and Kate came to her rescue immediately. They listened to her when she wanted to talk about it and, finally, helped her cleanse the apartment of all traces of Garrett. Mia even went as far as purchasing sage to burn. They packed his things into a box and placed it on the floor beside the door with plans to drop it off to him the next day.

When Sutton called him to end it and let him know she was dropping his shit off, he didn’t pick up. It continued for another two days before Kate and Mia were tugging her out to the streets in pursuit of his office building. She ultimately found him flirting with the receptionist in his office and dropped the box to the floor. She kicked it over to him, sending the contents flying.

“Go fuck yourself, Garrett.”

“I never liked you,” Mia echoed. Sutton marched toward the exit, ignoring the protests coming from her scumbag ex’s mouth. She grabbed the girls’ arms and dragged them out with her. “Fuck you, Garrett!”

Sutton didn’t cry over Garrett, but she did cry over Jake. She would be crazy not to.

As she drained her first drink of the night, Sutton couldn’t help but search the bar for Jake and his teammates. She didn’t want to be surprised by him because, truthfully, she wasn’t sure she was ready to see him.

“I honestly don’t know why we even came here,” she muttered, chewing on one of the ice cubes from her cup. “We should leave.”

“We’re not leaving,” Mia barked. “We came here for a reason, whether you think so or not, and you’re going to get what you came for.”

Sutton glared at her, Mia glared back, and Kate watched in amusement until Sutton finally gave in. She grabbed her drink and knocked it back in one swift movement before standing.

“I’m going to get another.”

The girls cheered as she stepped away from them and began to nudge her way through the crowd. She found a break in congestion a few steps ahead. But, just as she was about to slip in, a solid body stepped in front of her. She was about to apologize when she glanced up to see Charlie McAvoy.

His eyes blew wide when he saw her. He was convinced that he was seeing things, but he knew there was no way he was drunk enough for that. He reached out, setting a hand tentatively against her forearm and she waited patiently for him to snap back to reality.

“Does Jake know you’re here?” he asked, eyes searching the area around them frantically. She shook her head, slightly embarrassed by his reaction. He looked back at her. “Why haven’t you called?” Before she could answer, he frowned. “You haven’t broken up with that asshole.”

“I did.”

“Then, why haven’t you called him?”

“We didn’t exactly leave off on the best terms,” she said. Charlie rolled his eyes, shoving Sutton lightly towards the bar. She ordered, he ordered, and he scolded her when she tried to pay for her own drink. Then, he tugged her off towards the VIP section.

Jake saw Charlie first and flung himself out of the booth to swipe his new drink from his hands. And then he saw Sutton over his shoulder and his face dropped. Charlie slipped away, leaving the two face-to-face. He squinted at her, like he was trying to process the image in front of him.

“When did you break up with him?”

“A few days after we argued,” she said. He stilled, mind racing as he tried to figure out the timeline.

“Sutton, you’ve been single for two months and you haven’t called?”

“I was scared.”

“Would you have even called me if you hadn’t seen me tonight? Or would I still be wondering?”

“Of course not,” she defended herself. “I was going to tell you at the end of the season.”

He looked uncertain for a moment, but then his features softened and he wrapped his arms around her. He ducked so that his head was in the crook of your neck. She could feel the soft sigh that left his lips against her skin.

“I miss you.”

Sutton relaxed against him, relieved that he didn’t seem angry at her in the moment. They stood there for a moment, ignoring the hooting and hollering from his teammates at the booth. When he pulled away, he gazed down at her adoringly. “You look beautiful.”

“You look happy,” she said. She ran her fingers through his hair, playing into his sweetness despite her better judgement.

“Are you happy?” he asked, face suddenly serious. She nodded, corners of her lips turning up at his question. His eyes searched her face. “I’m proud of you.”

Before either of them could say anything more, Charlie’s girlfriend appeared with a tray of shots and they were swept up into a crowd of his teammates and their plus-ones, all reaching for shots for themselves.

Sutton stepped backwards to make space and ended up stumbling over Jake’s feet, her back bumping into his chest. Instead of stepping away, drunk Jake dropped a hand to her hip to steady her. He was tingly all over, liquor coursing through him, and when he felt her relax into his touch, he allowed himself to wrap his arm around her stomach to hold her instead. She leaned into him happily.

Someone called out a toast and everyone tossed their shots back with a mixture of grunts and exclamations at the taste. The group dispersed after and, though Jake dropped his arm from around her, he placed his hand in hers moments later to search the bar for Kate and Mia.

The look at their faces when they saw Sutton and Jake hand in hand was comical. They were practically bursting at the seams with excitement and hopped out of the booth to embrace the two in a hug.

“We missed you!” Mia all but yelled in Jake’s face. His drunken giggles got the best of him then, squeezing her a little tighter in response.

+

Unlike the first time they danced together at a club, Jake wasted no time in grinding up against her. His arms wrapped around her waist and her fingers followed, trailing along his arms until she could curl her fingers between his.

When she turned to face him, she wrapped her arms around his shoulders. His fingers danced along the skin of her back and he smiled when he noticed the goosebumps on her arms. He leaned in just enough to speak lowly into her ear, lips just inches away. “Sleep over tonight.”

“I don’t know if that’s a good idea, Jake,” she said. When he pouted, she reached up and thumbed his bottom lip with a smirk. “You’re too drunk for a sleepover, I think, but I’ll get you home like you did for me.”

“Like the night you kissed me?” he asked with a teasing smile. She dropped her forehead to his shoulder to hide the blush that was creeping up her neck to her cheeks. He chuckled softly, tilting his head to kiss her cheek and murmur in her ear, “I’m ready to go when you are.”

During the fifteen-minute cab drive to Jake’s apartment, he just seemed to just get drunker. He was giggly, chatty, and clingy. His fingers danced along Sutton’s calves, which he’d pulled onto his lap the minute they pulled away from the club. She watched him engage their driver in mindless conversation, smiling softly to herself every time he said something stupid and giggled at himself.

When they pulled up to his building, Jake paid and left the guy behind the wheel a fat tip. Then, he was pulling Sutton out of the car and into the lobby. He wrapped his arms around Sutton’s shoulders and pulled her against his chest as they waited for the elevator.

The doors opened with a ding and Sutton slipped to the corner while Jake pressed the button to his floor. He swayed uneasily on his feet as the elevator jolted upwards. She reached out to steady him, just a soft touch of her hand against his bicep. He turned with a smile.

“Sutton, Sutton, Sutton.”

“What?”

He stepped forward, boxing her into the corner of the elevator. She gazed up at him, finding it hard to breathe as he got closer. He rested his hands against the rail on either side of him and smiled.

“I want to kiss you so bad right now,” he whispered. She leaned away from him slightly, a frown developing as she did so. And though she was hesitant, her heart was hammering in her chest, begging her to attach her lips to his.

“You’re drunk.”

“Sure, but what does that matter?”

“We can’t just do this whenever one of us can’t handle our liquor,” she murmured. His face dropped. “It makes it difficult to tell if we mean it.”

“Trust me, I mean it,” he told her. “I want to kiss you when we’re sober as fuck eating leftovers on your kitchen floor; I want to kiss you when I’m hammered and can barely keep my hands off you.”

The elevator doors opened and Sutton, desperate to move on from this conversation, pushed him out of the car and down the hall.

The moment they entered the apartment, he went to his room to change and returned with a pair of sweats and a t-shirt for her. He watched her happily from his perch on the counter as she walked about the kitchen in his clothes. All he could think about was how badly he wanted to kiss her, touch her.

“Drink this,” she said, handing a glass of water over to him. She leaned up against the counter across form him. “You’re going to be so hungover tomorrow.”

“That’s why you should stay over,” he said. “You can nurse me back to health tomorrow morning.”

“Not gonna happen, DeBrusk.”

“Was worth a try,” he slurred. Sutton laughed at the rise and fall of his shoulders as he shrugged before chugging the water from his cup. After dropping the cup in the sink, he turned back and shook his head at her in amusement.

“What?”

“I’ve just missed you,” he told her. He took a few steps toward her before dropping his hands to counter on either side of her and leaned in. He was intoxicating. The smile on his face made her weak in the knees, but she couldn’t just act like there hadn’t been a fight and two months of silence between them.

“I’ve missed you, too,” she said. “We should really talk when you’re sober.”

“Let’s just talk now.”

“I’m not going to count this as a conversation.”

“Why not?”

“Because what if you don’t remember?”

Jake’s eyes studied her face and he realized the seriousness of her question. He leaned away then and sighed out, “Okay.”

“Let’s get you to bed, drunkie,” she murmured. She slipped past him, fingers catching on his wrist to tug him along. They stopped in the bathroom so he could brush his teeth and he wouldn’t stop glancing at her the entire way through the rest of his nightly routine as if he was worried she might disappear into thin air.

When they got back into his room, he picked her up and dropped her onto his bed.

“Jake!”

“Just stay for a little bit longer,” he whined. She rolled her eyes, laughter falling easily from her lips as he rolled off her to change into pajamas. He boldly dropped his pants and glanced over his shoulder just to see if she was looking, chuckling to himself when he saw her with her hands over her eyes.

He dropped onto the bed and hovered over her, grin on his face.

“I need to tell you something,” he said, slur in his voice still evident. She raised her eyebrows and pressed her hands against his chest to create some distance between them. “I want to be your boyfriend.”

“Jake,” she whispered. “You’re hammered!”

“Yeah, and I still want to be your boyfriend when I’m sober.”

“I told you I didn’t want to have this conversation right now,” she groaned. He dropped to the side of her and propped himself up on his elbow. “If you really mean it, I need you to tell me when you’re not drunk.”

“I will,” he said. “I promise.”

---

June 12th, 2019

They didn’t talk to anytime soon, and Sutton kept trying to convince herself that it was because he was in the Stanley Cup finals so he was busy, not because he regretted everything he said when he was drunk. But, as time went on, she felt more and more defeated. She waited patiently, though, hoping that she’d get some sort of closure at the end of the season.

She watched the entire series against the St. Louis Blues at the edge of her seat. Game seven had ripped her heart out, like many others in the city, but her first thought went to Jake. She almost felt sick to her stomach thinking about it.

Vice versa, the first person Jake thought about when he left the ice was Sutton. He thought about her through each post-game interview and his post-game routine, and as soon as he was in the parking garage he was texting her.

Did you watch?

He dropped his forehead against the wheel and waited for a response. He wasn’t even positive there’d be one after the shit he pulled at the bar and the silence that followed.

There’s a key under my welcome mat

He started the car immediately and drove in complete silence to Sutton’s apartment. He rushed upstairs, eager to fall into her bed. When he lifted the welcome mat, he let out a sigh of relief at the sight of the key and opened the door. He placed his bag down and kicked off his shoes before locking up behind him and heading off to her room.

When he opened the door, the light from the hallway filtered in and stirred her awake. She leaned up on her elbow and murmured, “I pulled out a toothbrush for you and there are sweats and a t-shirt you can wear at the end of the bed.”

He smiled softly, grabbing the clothes from the bed and turning to go brush his teeth. When he returned, she was leaning up against the headboard waiting for him.

“Are you okay?” she asked. Jake shuffled up towards the headboard of her bed just enough to drop his head to her stomach. A shuddering breath fell from his parted lips as he shook his head that indicated no, he was not okay. She curled her fingers into his hair and leaned down to place a kiss against the top of his head. His arms wrapped around her and the weight of the world disappeared, if only for a second. “I’m proud of you.”

+

When Sutton woke up the next morning, Jake was gone and her stomach dropped. She moved slowly out of bed and then, as panic set in, she quickened her steps through the apartment. The sound of the kitchen cabinets opening and closing greeted her. And when she reached the kitchen so did Jake’s tired smile.

“Good morning,” he said. She watched his cheeks turn pink and felt hers do the same. He motioned to the pan on the stove. “I started making breakfast.”

“I see that.”

“Coffee?”

“I’ll make it,” she offered, walking past Jake to the coffee maker on the other end of the counter. She didn’t catch Jake watching, didn’t feel his eyes wander along her body. She almost caught him when she turned to ask how he took his coffee, but he was quick to divert his eyes.

“I’m sorry I didn’t call after the night at the club,” he said suddenly. “Or text.”

Sutton continued for him, feeling the anger she’d built up over the past few weeks begin to boil over. “Or Snapchat. Or really do anything to assure me that things were okay between us.”

Jake frowned, turning his attention back to the eggs on the stovetop. They continued putting breakfast together in silence and reconvened at the kitchen table when the coffee was done and the eggs and toast were plated.

“I mean, you weren’t exactly jumping at the chance to tell me that you weren’t with Garrett anymore,” Jake argued. She sighed, fork clattering to her plate as she leaned back in her seat.

“You told me you didn’t want to talk until I had all my shit together!”

“And do you not?”

“I have no idea!” she exclaimed. “I wanted to call you the moment that I broke up with him. It was my first thought, but then I stopped myself because I thought of how unfair that would be to myself.”

“Why?”

“I haven’t been just Sutton in three years, Jake,” she said. “I’ve been Garrett’s doting girlfriend for three years. Everything I did, I did with him in mind.” She paused. “Then you come along, and suddenly I’m thinking about you, too. For once, I want to just think about myself.”

She continued, “I don’t even know myself. I feel like I’m rediscovering these parts of me that I haven’t thought about in years. I’ve been doing things to make me happy and I’ve been applying to new jobs because I want something more for myself and I finally feel motivated to fight for it. I feel different.”

He felt warm all over, buzzing from the inside out. He didn’t realize how much it would mean to him to hear her say that she was finally fighting for herself. Hearing her explain how she was feeling overwhelmed him with a sense of pride, and in that moment, he couldn’t help but smile at her.

“I guess that’s a good enough reason not to call,” Jake resigned.

“Why haven’t you called?”

“Because I was scared of what I might find out,” he answered. “That you were still with him.” He paused and then shook his head. “And I didn’t call after the club because I couldn’t remember any of the things I said and I was worried that I did something stupid.”

“You don’t remember?” she asked, her fears coming true.

“Not much.”

“Oh,” she whispered. “Okay.”

He was lying. He remembered every moment of that night spent with her. The image of her in his t-shirt swallowing her whole, the look on her face when he told her how he felt, the blush that crept up her neck to her cheeks. How could he forget it?

Mia entered the room then, cutting the conversation off before it could go anywhere else.

 “Ooo! You made bacon!” she exclaimed, snatching a strip from the plate at the center of the table. Her eyes cut from Sutton’s face to Jake’s and she smiled at the sight. “Happy to have you back, Jake.”

---

June 15th, 2019

Three days after the game seven loss, Jake was still feeling the heartbreak of it. He wondered if there would be a day that he didn’t. He spent a lot of time in his apartment, ordering Postmates for food to be dropped at his door so he didn’t have to see anyone he didn’t want to. The only time he’d left was for locker clean-out.

He saw Sutton every day and, though the visits were welcomed, he realized as they sat on the couch and watched shit reality shows that there was still a lot to be said.

He wanted to tell her how he felt about her again, but he kept his mouth shut. Friendship with Sutton was something he’d gotten used to, and he could continue living like this for now. Besides, he’d be leaving Boston soon and he didn’t want to start something that he couldn’t commit all his time to. She deserved to be the center of his world.

On the morning of the fifteenth, Sutton picked him up to drive him to the airport feeling like shit. It had been weeks since they saw each other at the bar, which meant weeks since he admitted his feelings and nothing had been said about it. He said he didn’t remember much, but she wondered if he really did and was just regretting what had been said.

Conversation on the way to the airport was mundane. He talked about all the things he was excited to do at home, like seeing his family and friends, and asked about what she’d do while he was gone, and she sighed heavily before answering, “Work.”

After she parked the car at the curb of the terminal, she reached over for the handle of the door, but Jake grabbed her other wrist to get her attention.

“I lied to you,” he blurted out. “I remember everything I said to you after the club. I wasn’t going to say anything because I love that you’re just being Sutton right now. But, I also don’t want to leave Boston without telling you how I feel.”

“Fuck you!” she exclaimed after releasing long sigh. He started laughing and stepped out of the car. She scrambled after him towards the trunk to grab his things. He was grinning ear-to-ear. “I thought you didn’t remember or you regretted it!”

“You’re crazy to think I’d ever regret you,” he said, fingers coming up to brush her cheekbone. Sutton blushed hard. “Seriously.”

“Your timing is shit,” she said. Jake curled his arm around her shoulders and embraced her. “Why would you admit your feelings and then fly off to Canada? That’s bullshit.”

“I don’t want you revolving your life around us right now,” he said. He pulled back and pressed his lips to her forehead, even though he desperately wanted to kiss her lips. Then, he pulled away completely. “You have three months to just be you, but then I’m coming back for you.”

---

September 1st, 2019

Jake and Sutton were both shaking like leafs as they made their way to each other on the morning of September 1st, him on the plane, her in her car on the way to pick him up. The summer was full of fresh starts. For Sutton, she ended up in a new position with a corner office at work. Jake had the summer to reset, spend time with his family, and relax.

Together, it was a fresh start to their relationship and more time to get to know each other.

Although they weren’t officially together, they talked on the phone at least once a week, but usually more. They flirted with the idea of the future through conversations about dates they’d go on when he got back and movies they needed to watch together. It felt like all the pieces of the puzzle were finally together, all Jake needed to do was come back to Boston.

And he was finally home.

Sutton stood beside her car as she waited for him to emerge from baggage claim. Her hands were shaking and her stomach felt sick, but the moment she saw him, it all went away. She sprinted over and threw herself into his open arms, giggling as his bags hit the pavement.

He wrapped his arms around her so tightly he thought she might snap in half. Then, she looked up at him, wide smile on her face, and all he could ask was, “Can I please kiss you like I’ve been wanted to all summer?”

“I might die if you don’t.”

And then the world fell away and it was just Jake and Sutton, finally kissing on purpose.

+

“Where are we going?”

“Stop asking questions!”

Sutton knew exactly where he was taking her, but she was hoping the question would make him rethink it. The door just before the stairs had ROOF ACCESS stamped across it.

“Won’t we get into trouble?”

Jake paused then, turning to answer, “Of course not. I slipped the security guards $50 to let us up here.”

Sutton laughed loudly at that and allowed him to continue tugging her along.

After picking him up at the airport, they spent the day re-exploring Boston. They walked in parks and talked on benches for hours on end, like they hadn’t spoken all summer, and then Sutton brought him to her office building to show off her new office. He kissed her in front of her desk and congratulated her for the hundredth time before whisking her off to dinner reservations he’d made a few weeks prior. By the time dinner ended, the two of them were drunk on each other, giggling and dancing down the streets to his apartment.

Jake pushed the door to the roof open and stepped out, tugging Sutton along with him towards the edge of the roof. She laced her fingers through his and followed happily. When he slowed to a stop, she halted beside him, resting her cheek against his arm. The city was alive beneath them, lights shining on them like a spotlight.

“I’ve always wanted to bring you up here,” he spoke, glancing down at her. She was already looking up at him, soft smile playing on her lips. “But I didn’t think it was appropriate to bring you up here if we were ‘just friends.’”

“We were never really just friends, huh?”

“Not at all,” he answered with a laugh. “You were delusional.”

That moment felt so poignant to Sutton, like it was the moment that was going to change everything. She turned to fold into his chest and his arms curled around her, filling her with a warmth she hadn’t felt in a long time.

“Do you want this, Sutton?” he asked, voice just above a whisper. She looked up at him, eyes searching his face, falling to his lips as he spoke his next words. “Do you want to be with me?”

“More than anything.”

---

October 18th, 2019

“He’s going to pass out when he sees you.”

“God, I hope not,” Sutton murmured, fingers still covering the small smile on her lips as she gazed at herself in the lingerie she was modeling for her roommates. Her eyes cut back to the two of them. “You don’t think it’s too much?”

“Not at all,” Mia said. Kate shook her head, eyes still taking in all the little bows and lace on the set. She sighed suddenly and grunted, “Now you’re making me want to buy lingerie. I don’t even have a boyfriend.”

Sutton snorted before turning back to her reflection to admire herself once more.

They’d officially been dating a little over a month and it was a dream. It was fun to get to know each other in a different, more intimate way and little by little all the walls were being broken down between them, not that there were too many to begin with.

Jake’s 23rd birthday was October 17th, but because he had a game, they couldn’t celebrate the way they’d been planning to. Fortunately, his next two days were free, so Sutton booked a stay at an Airbnb in Cape Cod.

She was all nerves and anxiety leading up to the trip, simply because of the mounting pressure that came with not having had sex with him yet. They’d spent the past month exploring each other with their hands and their mouths, but it was never taken any farther than that.

Only twice had they gotten close to it.

The first occurrence was about a week after the season started. He’d been away on a four-game road trip and by the time he got home, he was exhausted. Sutton was waiting for him when he got home the next afternoon and he collapsed into her arms on the couch until he was ready to cleanse himself of the remnants of loss and airplane germs.

“Come shower with me.”

“Jake,” she murmured hesitantly, threading her fingers through his hair.

“C’mon,” he whined through a pout. “I missed you.”

“Fine.”

She followed him to his room and popped her phone onto the charger while he stripped himself of his clothes. His hands found their way around her waist, sliding underneath her sweatshirt to pull it over her head. When Sutton turned to face him, he captured her lips with his and she moaned against his lips happily.

He shed her of her clothes as they kissed slowly, but as soon as she was standing naked in front of him, she pushed him towards the bathroom, too nervous for what could come next, unsure if she was even ready to go there.

Jake held her close beneath the warmth of the water, fingers traveling along her spine, into her hair, gripping her ass. Her hands were just the same, feeling his every muscle constrict beneath her touch, listening to him shudder when her hands traveled below his hips. He was hard against her lower abdomen,

“I’m not ready,” she blurted out. The second the words were out in the open she was clasping her hands over her mouth. Jake took a step back, his hands falling from her skin to his sides.

“Ready for what?”

“Sex.”

“Okay, that’s okay,” he murmured, placing another soft kiss against her lips. “I can wait.”

The second time was after a night spent with Charlie and his girlfriend, drinking wine and watching shitty movies. She was going to spend the night at Jake’s anyway, so when they got back to his apartment, they got ready for bed and cuddled up under the covers together—him in a pair of boxers, her in underwear and a t-shirt of his. She woke up in the middle of the night with Jake wrapped around her, his erection against her ass. As she pulled his arms tighter to her, he stirred and rutted his hips against her. 

“Sleeping with you is so hard.”

“Why? Cause you’re always hard?” she asked with a laugh. He hummed affirmatively, pressing into her a bit more. She turned around and kissed him softly. His eyes fluttered open at the feather light touch of her lips, and then he was on her, kissing her while his hands gripped her ass. In seconds, he had her on top of him, straddling his lap.

“You’re so wet right now,” he murmured as she rubbed against his bulge. Sutton was thankful for the veil of darkness in his room because she was bright red and flustered. He gripped her hips and guided her hips. “C’mon, use me, baby.”

She began to grind against him as they made out and he kept her hips down, rutting up into her to help her towards orgasm. It didn’t take long, the friction against her clit had her breathing heavily into the crook of his neck in no time and as her orgasm washed over her, he helped her through it by continuing to guide her hips against him.

“Fuck,” she sighed, and he laughed gently, wrapping his arms around her to keep her close to his chest. “I’m sorry.”

“Why are you sorry?” he spoke. “That was hot.”

And that was the extent of it. But now, he was turning another year older and she wanted to give him a gift to remember.

“Hey, baby,” he greeted as soon as Sutton opened the apartment door. He swept her up into a hug and kissed her full on the mouth while Mia and Kate aww’d behind them. “Hey, ladies.”

“Happy birthday!”

“Thank you, thank you,” he responded before placing one more kiss on Sutton’s lips. They detached from each other long enough for Jake to grab Sutton’s overnight bag. “Are you ready to go? I’ve been itching to get out of this city with you.”

Jake led her to the car, hand-in-hand, chattering on about the game he played the night before and Sutton hung on his every word, like she always did. He loaded her things into the trunk beside his and slid into the driver’s seat, handing the aux over to her—the only person he ever let control the music in his car.

As soon as they pulled onto the highway, Sutton blurted, “I want to have sex with you.”

“Yeah? I want to have sex with you, too,” he responded, goofy smile playing at his lips. His eyes were still trained on the road, like she hadn’t just divulged this important information to him. She laughed softly and reached out to take his free hand.

“No, like tonight,” she said. He looked over at her with wide eyes. “Eyes on the road.”

“You can’t say something like that and expect me to pay attention to much else,” he grunted, though he was now grinning from ear-to-ear. He squeezed her hand lightly. “Are you serious? You want to?”

“Yes.”

“Birthday sex,” he murmured, chuckling at himself. She laughed with him and shoved his hand away playfully only for him to drop it to her thigh, a little higher than usual, and hit the gas.

+

Jake was a pest at dinner.

Even though they’d been seated at a table across from each other, he pulled his chair around to sit beside her. His hand rested against her thigh the entire time, fingers gripping every once in a while to get a rise out of her.

When asked if they wanted a dessert menu, Jake was quick to turn it down.

“No, I think we’re alright,” he answered. Sutton turned to protest, it was his birthday after all, and he’d probably get a free dessert, but he shook his head at her. “Thank you, though. Everything was delicious.”

“You don’t want dessert?” Sutton asked as soon as the waitress stepped away.

Jake smiled and leaned in close to whisper in your ear, “You’re my dessert, Sutt.”

The ride back to the Airbnb felt way too long and the anticipation of the night ahead had Jake buzzing from the moment they got into the car after dinner to the moment he was sitting in a chair in the living room, waiting for her.

“You can’t touch!” she called from behind the bedroom door. His eyes were locked on it, carefully watching the handle so he could prepare himself.

“Sutton, you’re evil.”

“Promise me!”

“I promise, baby. Come on.”

She pulled the door open and his eyes drank her in. Then, her robe fell to the floor and he released a shaky breath. He leaned forward in the chair, elbows resting on his knees as he braced his hands together to keep himself from touching her.

“Sutton, I don’t know how you expect me to keep myself from touching you when you’re wearing that.”

“Do you want your birthday gift or not?”

“I really fucking want my birthday gift.”

“Then, you’ll find a way to keep your hands to yourself.”

Jake leaned back against the chair with a frustrated sigh, eyes still glued to the lace clinging to her body. He swallowed thickly as his eyes trailed over her chest, landing on the little bow between her breasts before meeting her eyes again.

In the sweetest voice, he murmured, “You’re so pretty.”

A blush crept up her cheeks, smile betraying the seductive front she was trying to show, and she sighed, “How am I supposed to act sexy when you’re making me blush like this?”

“You’re always sexy,” he spoke, voice low again. “You don’t need to act.”

She walked over to him, shaking her head when he reached for her again, and straddled his lap, fingers threading through his hair as he gazed up at her. His hands hung limp on either side of him and his fingers twitched as she grinded against his bulge.

“This is so unfair,” he grunted. She kissed his neck, sucking a mark into it as she continued to rub against him. “Who knew you were such a tease?”

“Who knew you were so chatty?”

“Shut me up then,” he challenged with a cocky smirk. Sutton rolled her eyes, but she couldn’t stop her lips from curling into a smirk as well. She sunk down to her knees, pushing his thighs open before fumbling with his belt and his eyes watched her hungrily. He lifted himself from the chair and let her pull them down, leaving him in just his boxers.

“Take your shirt off.”

He threw it off eagerly, tossing it over her shoulder to the other side of the room.

Sutton flattened her hands against his chest and ran her fingers over his muscles as they constricted beneath her touch. His breath was already unsteady. It was painful not being able to touch her when she looked so damn good. She kissed along his chest and down his abs to the waistband of his boxers. A breathless curse fell from his lips as she tugged them down.

In no time, she was working him with her hands and then her lips were wrapping around his length. He gathered her hair in his fist and gently pulled it back and out of her face, watching in awe, mouth ajar as she bobbed her head on his dick. She looked up at him sweetly, eyelashes fluttering against her cheekbones as she watched him unravel. He moaned as she took him deeper, hitting the back of her throat.

His other hand flew to his own face and ran through his hair, gripping the roots as he felt his orgasm beginning to bloom in the pit of his stomach. Jake never lasted long when she was on her knees. Her mouth worked wonders for him.

“Fuck, I’m gonna cum,” he muttered, grip on her hair getting tighter. His hips thrust up involuntarily and she gagged around his cock, but didn’t stop. He threw his head back with a groan as she deep throated him and then he finally came. She swallowed it, sucking him dry as he became a moaning mess beneath her. “Fuck, Sutton, fuck.”

She pulled her mouth off his cock with a pop and licked her lips as his gaze returned to her. He dropped his hand to the back of her neck and pulled her up to him. The lace of her lingerie scratched against the bare skin of his chest and when she straddled him as they kissed, he could feel how wet she was underneath.

“You’re so wet, princess,” he whispered into her kiss. One hand slid along her thigh up to her pussy. He pushed the fabric to the side and slid his fingers along her folds. “I love it when you suck my dick, but I can’t wait to fuck you.” He inserted two fingers into her pussy and she moaned as he curled them against her g-spot. “You’re so wet, so ready for me. Do you want my cock, angel?”

Sutton nodded, a whimper falling from her lips as he pulled his fingers out of her. He stood, wrapping her legs around his waist so he could walk her into the bedroom. When he lowered her onto the bed carefully, he kissed along her skin from the valley of her breasts to her lips.

“Do you like your gift?”

“I love it,” he whispered against her throat. His fingers trailed along the lace covering her pussy. “You bought it for me? Just me?” She nodded, breath catching in her throat as he rubbed her through the fabric. “Happy birthday, JD.”

She giggled at his dorky expression and that little smile on his lips, but she shut up the moment he pushed the lingerie to the side. His fingers began to massage her folds again, coaxing sweet moans from her as he sunk the fingers into her heat and curled them once more.

“I never get tired of your moans,” he murmured. “And I can’t wait to hear what you sound like when I’m fucking you.” She swallowed thickly, his words so dirty compared to how he often joked with her. He noticed her reaction and smiled. “Do you like it when I talk to you like this, Sutton?”

“Yeah, I didn’t know you had it in you.”

“You’re gonna learn a lot of new things about me.”

Sutton giggled and he did just the same because nothing between the two of them could ever stay serious. They just liked each other too much to not be smiling, giggling messes at all times.

“As much as I like this lingerie,” he began, fingers dancing along the bows. “How do I take it off?”

Sutton sat up with a laugh and reached behind her to unclasp the bra. It fell away and she tossed it onto the floor. Jake hooked his fingers beneath the waistband of the panties and pulled them down, throwing them onto the floor as well. His hands were everywhere all at once, cupping her breasts, teasing her core.

He pushed her thighs apart and slotted himself between them as he began kissing her again, the head of his cock brushing against her clit as he leaned in. Her sharp intake of breath shattered the silence in the room.

“Jake, I want you,” she pleaded. He released an uneasy breath, cheeks flushed pink as he reached out to grab the condom from the nightstand and ripped the wrapper open with shaking hands. Sutton reached up and took it from him, asking, “Are you nervous?”

“A little bit, I think. It’s because I like you too much.”

“Too much?”

“It’s not a complaint,” he responded, capturing her lips in a kiss. He sucked in a breath and pulled his bottom lip between his teeth as Sutton rolled the condom over his cock. “Fuck.”

She laid back against the pillows once it was on and Jake admired her body, laid out for him. His hands travelled up her sides, back to her breasts, along the skin of her neck and her cheeks. He nudged her thighs apart some more with his knees.

“Are you ready?” he asked. She nodded, accepting his kiss before he reached down and aligned himself with her entrance. One hand rested beside her head and his other wrapped around his cock as he pushed the head into her. She sighed as he entered her some more, finally releasing his member from his hand and caging her head in on both sides with his hands.

He shuddered as he filled her up, the feeling of her warmth all too consuming. His forehead dropped to her shoulder as he bottomed out and she sighed out a moan, wrapping her legs around his waist to take him deeper.

“You feel so good,” he muttered, barely able to get the words out. He let out a shaky laugh and halted his movements to steady his breath. “Hold on. I need a minute.” Sutton furrowed her brows as he leaned back. He gazed down at her body, down at his body and the place they fit together. “If you told me back in March that this is where we’d be seven months later, I wouldn’t have believed you.”

“No?”

“No, you’re my dream girl,” he spoke, leaning in to kiss her again. He pulled out slowly and then pushed back into her. As she sighed beneath him, he spoke against her lips, “You’re so far out of my league.”

“Jake,” she whispered, fingers carding through his hair. He glanced up at her again. “You’re perfect for me.”

Their next kiss was passionate and full of fire, and he began to thrust faster, pulling her leg higher on his waist to hit deeper. The sound of their moans mixing and their bodies together filled the room. He spoke praises to her about how beautiful she was, how good she felt. She kissed him until her lips were bruised.

His thrusts were slow and calculated and he tried to look her in the eye to see how she looked when she was filled with him. The view was beautiful with her lips plump and her eyes wide. She watched him intently, overwhelmed by this moment, overwhelmed that she was finally with him like they’d wanted to be for so long.

She rutted her hips up to get more friction from him and he dropped his hand to her clit, hoping to help her reach the peak before he had his second orgasm of the night. Her nails scratched his back as her toes began to curl.

“Please,” she moaned.

“What’s up, baby? What do you need?”

“Fuck me harder.”

Jake lifted her leg up to rest against his shoulder and dirty, loud moans filled the room as he fucked her. She looked so pretty beneath him, eyes squeezed shut as her back arched off the mattress. He coached her through it, talkative as always, and she shuddered beneath him as he reached the peak, pussy fluttering around his cock. Her chest heaved as he fucked her through the orgasm and, finally, he poured into the condom as he reached his own.

He didn’t pull out until he was soft, and even then, he hardly moved away from her, opting instead to just drop his weight against her in bed. Her fingers carded through his hair and he relaxed into her touch, leaving lazy kisses against her skin. Finally, he pulled himself off her and moved up the bed to rest his head beside hers on the pillow.

They stared at each other for a long time without saying a word.

Jake couldn’t believe his luck, couldn’t believe that this girl was his, finally. He threaded his fingers through her hair to see her face properly and sighed before leaning in to press a kiss to the top of her nose.

“You’re my best friend,” he whispered. “I’m so happy we’re together.”

“Me too.”

Sutton’s heart felt like it could explode from happiness. After all the times she’d been mistreated, all the bullshit she went through with Garrett, she was finally with someone who understood her, both inside and out. Jake looked at her like she put the stars in the sky and it made her melt.

“I think I could spend the rest of my life with you,” he spoke, voice cracking a bit with emotion as his eyes bore into hers. “I love you, Sutton.”

“Jake,” she sighed out, tears coming to her eyes. She reached up, swiping a thumb along his cheekbone and he tilted his head to press a kiss to her palm. “I love you, too.”

[greatfallsrp]

NAME: Jameson Hawthorne GENDER & PRONOUNS: Cis Man / He/Him AGE & DATE OF BIRTH: 32 years old / January 13th HOMETOWN: Great Falls, MT TIME IN GREAT FALLS: 32 years RESIDENCE: Willow Creek Ranch OCCUPATION: Ranch Hand and Future Owner of Willow Creek Ranch

BACKSTORY —

There was a certain level of pressure that came along with being the first born in any family. They’ve done studies on what birth order meant for kids as they developed their concept of self and figured out their roles in the world. If you asked Jameson Hawthorne his opinion on the matter he’d be the first to tell you the average first born child had no idea what pressure felt like. From the moment he could walk he was on the ranch learning how things were supposed to work. He started grooming the horses before he was speaking in full sentences. Jameson loved his life growing up on the ranch. He had parents who loved him, siblings to play with, and wide open spaces to run around in until he couldn’t feel his legs. 

Something shifted as he got older. More responsibility was put on his shoulders little by little. His grandfather started to pull him aside now and then to have serious talks about how he’d be running the ranch someday. His father relied on him to do tasks that the ranch hands should have handled on their own in order to 'build character.’ Before he could legally drive he was treated like an adult and expected to carry responsibility as one. He didn’t have as much time to play with his growing siblings but he found a way to be with them in the evenings, mostly. When he was sure he wouldn’t be caught, he’d even sneak away from his chores to play games of tag or hide and seek during the day. 

He didn’t resent the work he was expected to do. Quite the contrary, he thought it was a noble path his father and grandfather put him on. He never questioned any direction he was given, never complained if he wasn’t allowed to spend the night at a friend’s house because he had to be up working early in the morning. He was the picture of a dutiful heir. 

Then his mother left them. 

Everything changed for him when she was gone. She left in the middle of the night, not a word, not a goodbye. He was sixteen years old and couldn’t fathom why she wouldn’t want to be with her family anymore. Time passed and the only word they’d been given was that she’d sent their father divorce papers in the mail. Jameson was at a crucial point in life. He was starting to date and go to school dances and the sudden absence of his mother rocked him to his core. He withdrew from his friends, threw himself into work at the ranch, and was angry all the time. He started to resent Willow Creek and the life he’d been forced to live. He resented the fact that he didn’t get the kind of childhood some of his friends who lived in town were afforded. Why was everything on his shoulders? Why was it all on him to make things continue running?

School had never been much of a priority for him. He scraped by with his high school diploma and enrolled in a local community college. He didn’t have much motivation to actually do well in school but he quickly learned to appreciate the time away from the ranch that school was affording him. There was something about doing it on his own terms and being able to choose his classes and schedule that ended up engaging him in school for the first time. Two years later he had his associates degree in accounting but he wasn’t ready to return home just yet. 

He had spent his entire life living for his family and Willow Creek. He had never once been asked what he valued or enjoyed. He convinced his dad to let him go to a state school and live off campus as he worked toward a bachelor’s degree. The terms of the agreement were that he major in something that would relate to the family business. It was a small price to pay for a little freedom so he enrolled in the agricultural science program and took on a finance minor. This gave him three beautiful years away from the responsibility that awaited him back home and he took full advantage of his time away. Sure, he always went home for holidays and he visited now and then, mostly to see his younger siblings. But he spent as much time in the city living life for himself as he could. 

He made friends who had nothing to do with ranch life and the possibilities of life expanded before his eyes. He tried to do small jobs here and there. He took elective classes in the arts, hospitality, library science, and so many others. He filled in an extra year with classes he didn’t need for his major but that interested him in some way or another.  He’d been hoping to find something else that would give him the drive and happiness that he used to feel when he was working on the ranch as a kid but nothing quite hit the mark. 

At twenty-five he returned home to Willow Creek. He told himself it was temporary and entirely based on what felt good to him. He could walk away at anytime if he wanted to. What surprised him was that the feeling he’d been searching for had returned. Maybe what they said about distance making the heart grow fonder was true for places and career callings, too. Jameson was suddenly excited to wake up in the morning and get to work. He did everything from wrangling and training new colts to cleaning stalls and placing feed orders. He would do whatever needed to be done and it all felt equally important to him. He’d found his place back at home. 

His view on relationships has been jaded ever since his mom left their family. Short flings and one night stands after a night out were his normal. He made an exception for one woman and he was sure she was the love of his life, the one to change his mind and make him believe in love again. They were together for over three years and he planned to marry her. When he proposed, however, she said no and left him. He has since doubled down on his no-relationships rule and cannot foresee breaking it again. 

Jameson is currently in training to become foreman when he has enough experience. His main responsibility now is managing the books with some minor oversight from his father. His grandfather still likes to remind him that he will run the place one day like Simba’s dad did in the beginning of the movie but it didn’t feel like a death sentence any more. It felt like a promise of good things to come.

Portrayed by MICHAEL B JORDAN, written by ERIN.

[theshelbyclan]

Remember

Summary: Requested as: The idea is, there's the shelby sis (older than Finn) and she's taken from the family as a child & they only find her years later when she's around 20. When they find her she doesn't say a word cause she was treated poorly where she was during those years. And they all are overwhelmed with her not speaking. They see her talking to a friend later & ask the friend about her and they explain that. She starts talkin days later and lots of fluff:) 

A/N: This was requested by @vikingsxf​, thanks so much! Also, this is the first ever story I’ve written on request, please don’t judge me too harshly... I changed it a little, but hope you still like it!

Words: 3574

***

It had been years since you’d last seen Birmingham. Home. There it was, on top of the hill and still at quite a distance, but you could see the smoke was rising and the people were buzzing like flies. It didn’t feel like home, but a part of you knew it had always been home. 

For the last few years you’d been traveling alone. This was a dangerous thing to do for a woman on her own. But you’d dressed as a boy and stayed with good people, with traveling people mainly. They didn’t trust you much at first, but when you’d spoken their language, they usually let you it. Still, this life was a lot safer than where you’d come from. You remembered it all. “Y/N!” you spun around to find the old man looking at you, “He wants to talk to you.” Releasing Birmingham once again, you turned away and walked over to the vardo where you’d been summoned. Right now, you were traveling with the Lee’s and they’d been all right. Not great, but no trouble either. The problem now was you were officially grown-up and passing like a boy was getting harder and harder. Johnny Dogs was also travelling with the Lee’s and he’d figured you out straight away. He was gracious enough however to never mention it. “Talk to that horse for me, will ya? He won’t listen to me.” You scoffed, internally laughing at him because he was supposed to have a way with horses.

He winked at you, “It’s the white one, by the river. Wash her for me.” You walked a little with him and admired the white horse. A young boy was washing her in the river, but he had a hard time controlling the horse as well. She didn’t like to be handled, didn’t like to be touched, and you and the horse understood each other at once. “Keep still, sweetheart,” you whispered as you approached the horse gently, “It’s just you and me. We’ll be okay.” The horse followed you meekly. “Huh!” Johnny elbowed the young boy in the side as he pointed at you, “What did I say? Proper gypsy that one, when it comes to horses.” You smiled at them both and walked the horse over to another wagon to get her brushed. Like a ritual you petted and groomed her. Her nose was touching your back every few seconds to let you know she agreed with it. As you worked, thoughts you’d rather kept locked away popped up in your head. Images flashed of dark spaces, doors being locked, children being beaten and pain stinging your back. Your childhood had been rough, taken at a young age and brought to a place of screams. It haunted you, but it also embarrassed you. You never quite trusted yourself to speak after that. The beautiful horse pulled suddenly, spooked by a noise. You looked up and saw some fancy car approaching on the grass. You knew men like that had no business here and your mind was racing at the possible scenarios. What if they came for you, to take you back? Silently, you moved behind the horse and watched as they got out. They were too far away to see, but Johnny seemed to know them. There was no way you were going back. Beckoning the boy and handing him the rag to groom the horse, you edged away invisibly. Walking through the field, hiding behind the wagons, you tried to disappear. You climbed a tree to wait until they’d gone, because strangely enough, people never really look up. The leader of the group talked to Johnny, while the three other brothers stood back. “How’s life, Johnny?” “Not bad, I’m traveling with the Lee’s now.” “So I’ve heard, any news?” You listened to the conversation intently. There was something familiar about it, but you couldn’t quite place it. Suddenly, the speaker looked up and saw one of your bare feet dangling from the sky. Johnny saw him look and explained, “New boy. Joined us recently.” “Where from?” “No idea,” Johnny shrugged, “Doesn’t really speak that one.” You were frozen up that tree. Luckily they had other things on their minds apparently and they flipped a coin for it. The older brother shouted something and the Lee’s by the river were laughing. Before you could even blink, a fight had ensued. Your pretty white horse was now definitely spooked and without thinking about it, you walked over to her to calm her down. “You know horses?” A low voice asked behind you. Your stomach dropped. You didn’t turn around, but just continued to pet the horse, while whispering her own language into her ear. Part of you hoped you could still walk away, without them really seeing you. One of the men took your arm gently and tried to turn you around. But all instincts kicked in and you spun around to punch him square in the nose. His head flew back, he cursed intensely, and you immediately regretted your decision. In panic, you tried to make a run for it. The older brother had now taken hold of your hand. A small smile tugged at his mouth and he tried to calm you down by locking eyes with you. Pale blue eyes, identical to yours, were looking at you. And he felt it too. “What’s your name?” he asked you. You just stared at him. “A girl able to do that to my brother should at least be able to identify herself.” So he knew you weren’t a boy. You still kept silent. He could see you were seriously afraid, so tried a different approach, “My name’s Thomas Shelby and I apologize for the mess we’ve caused here at the camp. I also apologize for my brother’s ways.” “The fuck are you apologizing to her for?” said brother protested, still holding his nose and blood oozing through his fingers, “Think she broke my nose.” You could only suck in your breath and whisper, “Shelby…” Thomas looked at you again, completely ignoring his brother. Alarm bells were going off in his head and some old memory was nagging at his brain, “Y/N? Is that you?” Completely frozen on the spot, you had no way of reacting. You hadn’t been called by your real name in years. This wasn’t what you’d been looking for, you didn’t even want it and here it was: you were looking at your brother. Tommy himself was shocked and he let go of you at once. He took a few steps back and thought about it all for a while. Guilt, anger and sorrow washed over him all at once, but none of it was shown on his face. Walking over to Johnny, he said, “Take her to Small Heath, to Uncle Charlie. Calm her down and take the horse. Then get Ada.” “Tommy, what in the hell is going on here?” He looked back at you for a second, “I’ve found my sister, Johnny.” 

*** Uncle Charlie brought back more memories for you, but they were mainly good ones. You remembered the smell of the place, how you used to sleep in the hay and the horses, always, the horses. He too tried to make conversation with you after Johnny had told him what Tommy had said, but quickly found that you simply didn’t speak. Johnny left again and that meant you were on your own with Curly. Curly talked non-stop and you instantly liked him. He didn’t mind that you were different or that you were so quiet, he just talked horses. The sounds of high heels suddenly filled the yard. Ada Shelby rounded the corner and looked at you with big eyes, “Y/N,” she said, “You’re back.” When she pulled you into an embrace, your first instinct was to push her away. But this was your sister and you’d missed her so much. None of it had been her fault, so you just let her. There was very little you remembered from before being taken, you were only three at the time, but you remembered that older sister of eight, always there to hold your hand. And in seconds, you’d lost it all. “Come on,” Ada urged, “let’s get you home.” You shook your head, eyes speaking plainly that you didn’t want to. “Why not, sweetheart? Aunt Polly can’t wait to see you, and your brothers just want to talk to you.” Anger flashed through your eyes now as it bubbled up inside you. If they’d want to talk to you so badly, why didn’t they ever look for you? Ada pulled you down and sat next to you in the hay, “Tell me.” You just couldn’t. Carefully she whispered, “What happened to you?” Too much. “You don’t have to tell me, if you don’t want to,” Ada smiled a little at her younger sister, “But is there anything I can do for you? Get someone maybe?” Your eyes immediately shot up and you nodded. There was one person you were dying to talk to and she was still back at the camp by the river. She’d been like a sister to you for many years. Just thinking that was painful now. Ada promptly got to work and ordered Johnny to get the girl from the camp. Thomas was watching Charlie’s yard from a distance. He saw a gypsy girl approaching and moments later his sister and the girl were talking. They were talking. His sister didn’t say a word to him, but she could talk. Tommy beckoned little Finn to come over and ordered him to get John and Arthur to follow that girl. As his youngest brother had left again, he felt the emotion of it all tightening his throat. His sister had been hurt, badly. 

*** The two brothers walked silently, but on a mission. John had been only six when you were taken, but Arthur had been 14 already. He remembered it well. They found their sister’s friend down at a pub and Arthur was the first one to approach her, “Y/N. You know her.” “So what if I do?” the girl threw back. “Why won’t she speak to us?” The girl scoffed, “Why would she?” She stood up to walk away, but Arthur grabbed her arm roughly. Seeing this wasn’t working, John pulled Arthur’s hand away and talked more gently to her, “Please. She’s our sister and we haven’t seen her for sixteen years. She was taken from us and we need to know what happened to her.” “Why?” “To kill the bastard that took her,” Arthur replied quickly. The gyspy girl seemed to be sizing up both Shelby’s. One was a brute and ready to kill everyone who’d ever hurt you, with his bare hands if he had to. This was good, let him. The other one was softer, concerned and maybe even a little hurt. “How do you even know she’s your sister?” “Because she has Tommy’s eyes and she broke my nose,” John said. This was good enough for her and she laughed at his answer. They were alright, but she wasn’t sure if you could ever trust them again, “She thinks the family gave her up.” “What?” “And that’s why you never looked for her.” Arthur softened a little too, for the first time, “We never stopped looking.” Seeing the truth in their eyes, the friend started telling them what she knew. She told them of the orphanage you were send to, where you’d refused to obey anyone. How they’d send you to the asylums after that, where you were beaten and imprisoned for years. How you kept on escaping, but was always brought back. How you’d been out for four years now, after an escape attempt had finally been successful.  And lastly, how you’d been moving around with travellers now, dressed as a boy. 

*** You knew none of this, but were still with the horses at Charlie’s. A few days had passed already and you knew you couldn’t stay there forever. Charlie knew the same thing. “Go on,” he said to you one day, “Go home to your brothers. They may be mad, the lot of them, but they never gave up looking for you, Y/N. Go and talk to them.”

Walking into Small Heath on bare feet felt somehow like a victory to you. Men gave you looks, so you felt for the knife hidden under your trousers. They wouldn’t be the first ones you stabbed. You stepped inside the house and hardly had any time to recognise the small house decorated as a vardo. Immediately Aunt Polly flung herself around your neck. Sobs were coming from her. She sat you down at the table and made you tea. You looked at it for a moment and shook your head. Tommy cocked one eyebrow and poured you a glass of whiskey. In one movement you downed the glass. John smirked, “Welcome home, Shelby…” “Sweetheart, talk to us. Who hurt you?” Aunt Polly urged. “I’ll fix it,” Arthur grumbled, “I’ll kill them all for you, Y/N.” “No need,” you said, speaking for the first time, “The man who took me is dead. I stabbed him in his sleep.” Your voice was more stable than they’d imagined. Thomas sighed, sat down next to you and poured you another drink. Then he slowly rolled another cigarette and lit it. “They said they were from the parish,” Polly said. You laughed coldly, “If he was, why did he take me to an orphanage first, but still came ‘round when I was taken into the asylum. He wanted me for something else.” Polly looked hurt, “We didn’t know.” “Well you fucking should have,” you spat, “Sixteen years you had and I never heard anything from any of you.” “We fucking should have, yes,” Arthur agreed at once, “Dad was no use and I was the eldest. We did try to find you, Y/N, but there were no traces of you anywhere.” “They changed your name,” Polly added softly, “They always do.” “I tried to get mum to talk about it,” Ada said, “But it was too painful for her. All her children were too painful for her after that. Seeing us reminded her of your absence, and it hurt. Hurt so badly she never was the same after that.” Arthur cast his head down at the memory, “Then the war came and all records got lost. We got packed off to France and the whole world went shit…” “We’re not here to make excuses,” Tommy said, “We will find the people responsible and deal with them. You just rest and forget about where you’ve been.” He started to get up from the table. In a sudden outburst of emotion, you grabbed the glass he’d just filled and threw it at him. It spattered apart in small shards on the wall next to his head. A loud roar, a scream coming from deep within, burst from you and Thomas just stared at you, frozen. “How the fuck am I supposed to forget?” you bellowed, “How the fuck am I supposed to sleep? Tell me, big brother who seems to know everything, how do I do that? I am fucking haunted by what happened. I dream of being locked up, of getting whipped and them touching me. I have the scars on my back and the chaos in my mind! And the fucked up part is, that I was always on my own during it all. None of you were fucking there, and now I’m supposed to simply forget?!” You got up and walked over to Tommy, “Tell me, how do I forget?” Your face was now inches from his, and slapping your own temple you shouted, “How do I clear my head and fucking stop remembering?” Then you whispered tortured, “Tell me how.” Thomas cleared his throat. Then he took your face in his hands and tried to wipe some of the tears off your face that had started falling down in anger, “Y/N, I’m sorry, eh? I didn’t mean to make light of it. But we can’t take it back, and I fucking hate that.” His own voice showed anger now, “Every night, I dream of France. I’m back in the tunnels and I can’t get the mud and smoke out of my brains, however much I try. You’re right. You can’t forget. I’m sorry I said you should.”

You let your forehead rest against his and the two of you stood there for a moment, breathing heavily. Tommy touched your cheek lightly, “But you’ll be alright. You might not see it now and you might not know how, but you’ll be alright.” And then you just let go. You started crying and crying, and it was like everything just only started to come in now. “It’s alright, Y/N, it’s alright,” Tommy whispered while stroking your hair. “We’re here now.” He took your face in his hands again and smiled at you, “You’ve been so strong and I’m so proud of you.” “I never wanted to be strong,” you whispered, “I just wanted to survive.” “I know, princess,” Tommy used his old nickname for you, “You don’t have to be any longer. We’ll take care of you.” His face brightened a little and he added, “even though you don’t need it, seeing what you did to John’s nose!” “Y/N did that?” Polly laughed at John, “Hasn’t changed much.” 

Everyone was silent for a little while. You just had to keep reminding yourself that this was real. You were really home and this was your family. Things would get better, slowly, but they’d get better. “Y/N?” John started, “Remember how we used to play with dad’s old bottles? I used to pile them up in a tower and you’d throw them all down. You used to laugh so hard at that.” You smiled at the memory. Happier memories were flowing back into your mind, slowly brightening the dark place in there. “Oh, I remember,” Thomas untangled himself from your embrace with a small smile, “You used to steal tiny things from dad and when you got caught, acted like a little princess to get away with it. That’s why I used to call you that.” “I used to steal the keys at the asylum, extra food and anything to get my hands on, just to find a way out. I can steal anything.” “That’s my girl,” John said proudly. Ada joined in in the storytelling, “I remember when you were born. I was so happy to have another girl in the family, with all those boys all over the place. Mum was too.” “You were the sweetest little thing, tiny at birth,” Polly said, “but with those pale eyes and jet-black hair to match. You used to fall asleep on my lap when I was peeling potatoes. Do you remember that?” “I do,” you took your aunt’s hands as you sat back down again and could see a single tear rolling down her cheek.

“Remember when we lost her, Tommy?” Arthur looked at his brother, “That night in the summer and we were all panicking for hours. Turns out Y/N had just fallen asleep in the hay next to the horses.” “You still have your way with horses.” Thomas looked at you again, “Just as you have your way with brothers. You used to be an angel, but if any of us picked you up without you wanting to, you’d kick and scream. The whole neighbourhood thought we were murdering you!” “Maybe you should listen to me more often,” you replied, grinning too.

“We will now,” Tommy said.  

You suddenly felt overwhelmingly tired and you laid your head forwards onto you aunt’s lap, “I’m so tired, Poll.”

“I’ll get the potatoes then!” Ada got up and brushed your head for a moment, “And we’ll have to do something about that hair of yours. Looks like it hasn’t seen a brush in years! You can scream again when I do it, just like old times.”

“I’ve missed you, little sister,” Arthur locked eyes with you and smiled warmly, “Welcome home.”

“Yeah, we have a lot of catching up to do! Maybe I could throw you out the window again, for old times’ sake,” John joked.

“Shut up, John,” you mumbled.

“Leave the girl be,” Thomas said, “she’s had enough trouble in life without you fuckers as it is.”

“Will you be alright?” Polly asked as she stroked your hair slowly.

“I will be.”

Thomas took another drag from his cigarette and nodded, “You will be.”

There was a calmness washing over you that you hadn’t felt in years. And slowly, you started recognising and remembering the way each of them expressed it, but Ada was the one to actually say it in the end.

“We love you, Y/N.”

***

Masterlist

[sadachmesarthim]

C-cowboy starker? What if cowboy starker, I mean? I think... cattle driver Tony maybe, and ranch hand Peter,,, always wanted to write about this but I’m shy 🙈

mid-writing edit: i’ve spent half an hour on this and my computer is literally lagging with how fast i’m typing. i really hope this makes sense because holy shit, i love cowboy starker. anon, i need you in my inbox every single fucking time you have an idea about starker. idk if it’s in passing, idk if it’s super fleeting and doesn’t make sense. anon, you are my muse

ohhhhh my god anon i ,, love this idea so much i’ve actually thought about this a bit ngl you don’t even know how much i like western aus

okay so hear me out:

i’m thinking brokeback type shit, right?? but just a tad different like be honest who doesn’t like the whole bbm trope yfm and twink jake gyllenhaal is my baby okay okay okay sorry babe i’m still crossfaded as fuck and i could talk about that movie for days anyway back on topic

- no okay but think of it - tony, he’s recently divorced and morgan, his baby girl, his one and only daughter, she’s 19 now and seeing this absolute gentleman of a roughneck. his house is empty, he isn’t paying child support anymore, he doesn’t have this bitchy redhead on his ass 24/7 about getting a job in the city

- because tony hates the city, hates that his father dragged them away from the mountains and prairies he remembers from his childhood. hates what the city gave him - black eyes and mean names and disappointed parents

- so tony high tailed it the fuck out of dodge the second he turned 18. abandoned school, abandoned his family, took his beat up ford out to montana and disappeared. married this nice girl, virginia pepper, worked construction to support her while she went to school. had a pretty baby girl a year or two later. moved both of his girls out to a ranch he bought with their tiny savings, got a couple’a cows and a horse and made friends with a neighbor with a bull

- but eventually, pep had bigger dreams. they were both young when they got married, didn’t look past the immediate sexual compatibility to see that their futures were well and truly not going to go well together

- so she left the ranch, took morgan with, and made her way to the city. became some big lawyer or doctor or businesswoman or something, tony didn’t know. didn’t really care because the child support invoices still came every single month like clockwork. 

- so instead of focusing on his distant daughter and his ex wife that wouldn’t listen to him and his family that just... didn’t understand, he threw himself into the wildlife around him

- became closer with those neighbors that had a bull. eventually came to an agreement and let him free with his girls

- built a very solid herd of highlanders in a handful of years, slowly attracting the attention of more and more owners wanting to trade, to buy, to sell 

- and maybe one year, he realizes, he’s in a bit too far over his head with this. he has 100 of these four legged fuckers, he has 50 acres to take care of by himself, he has horses to feed and shoe and groom. he has fields to plant and water and harvest if he wants to feed any of the animals mentioned above

- so he reaches out to his neighbors, puts feelers out and sees if anyone knows a farmhand who’d want to help him out, maybe live on the property full time for a bit. and when he gets a call back his heart breaks a bit, because oh my god he wasn’t prepared for this

- a kid, can’t have been more than morgan’s age, has responded to him, and he’s good with his hands mr. stark, and he knows his way around animals mr. stark, been takin’ care of ‘em for his whole life now mr. stark 

- and this kid is ,, he sounds so innocent and sweet there’s no way tony’s gonna say yes before he actually meets him 

- so tony gives the kid his address, tells him to come out and give things a once over before he makes his mind up

- so peter does. he comes out, introduces himself, looks around the property with tony. and tonys heart hurts, because this kid, this kid that’s standing right in front of him, is almost skin and bones and looks like he’s about to crumble into dust and blow away in his hands

- he brings peter into the house, brings him coffee, offers him food. even after peter politely declines he brings over some bread to share, maybe a slice of pie?? maybe tony can cook and bake. he has a sweet tooth after all, and he’s been on his own for the better part of two decades. 

- and he really gets to know peter. they sit, they talk, until the sun dips down and the open mountain chill takes over them

- and peter tells him that he’s been on his own for a couple of years, that his parents died when he was young and that his aunt and uncle took him in on their ranch. that he grew up around animals, working, helping out

- but when they died the property was repossessed by the bank and peter’d all but ran with ben’s keys and the clothes on his back. he’s been on the road ever since, going from missouri to texas to wyoming to montana, all in search of work, never staying in one place longer than a few months. 

- he doesn’t tell tony that he’s secretly so, so tired of life on the road. doesn’t say how elated he was when he heard someone was looking for a fairly long-term live in farm hand. because that’s something he knew, something he was good at. 

- he also doesn’t tell tony that his heart skipped several beats in a row the second peter laid eyes on him, and that he really wants to work for the gorgeous man in front of him

- it’s finally dark, his coffee cup is long empty and abandoned and peter’s just spilled nearly every single deep dark secret he’s ever had. tony’s closing the windows, and peter makes for the door. he’s taken up enough of this beautiful kind man’s time, he should leave before he stays even further past his welcome

- but tony’s stopping him, blocking him from the door, lightly grabbing his wrist and turning peter to face him fully

- and he’s asking begging pleading  telling peter he should stay, that the spare room upstairs is warm and not going to be used anytime soon. that he still needs a farmhand and, as he sees it, peter’s already here

- secretly, tony can’t stand to see him leave

- he couldn’t handle letting his man this... kid, really, leave. not when tony could provide for him. not when he could feed him until his edges soften and his cheeks round out and his tummy gets squishy. not when he could work him into a sweat outside, watch that paperwhite skin turn a rich tan under the summer sun

- not even when he realizes the sudden care for the orphan in front of him is slowly becoming less familial, less platonic, and more... instinctual. base. greedy. 

- because who better to make sure this kid is looked after than tony? tony, who has work-worn hands and time-softened eyes and cooking skills any bachelor would die for

- it’s honestly not even that shocking to him when peter says yes

- not when he takes his hand off the doorknob and immediately turns, immediately breathes out a “yes, yes of course mr. stark, thank you so much mr. stark, i’ll do whatever you need me to, you’re incredible mr. stark”

- and it all immediately goes to tony’s dick head because fuck, that was not the intended reaction but it was absolutely welcome, what the fuck

- so tony takes him upstairs, gets peter settled in the guest bedroom right across from his own

- and when he goes to bed that night he absolutely does not touch himself while thinking about the barely 20something thats maybe 10 feet away. doesn’t think about what peter said earlier, with tony’s hand wrapped around his wrist

- absolutely doesn’t cum with peter’s name on his lips, biting down on his knuckles so peter doesn’t hear

- and peter absolutely doesn’t cum with three fingers in his ass, tears streaming down his face, listening to the creaking mattress springs and heavy breathing from across the hall. of course he doesn’t

- and of course they don’t get along well. of course not. of course they don’t work together like they’re telepathically connected, not even needing to speak to know what the other is thinking. it’s like peter can read his mind, knowing exactly what needs done when

- but it’s not just tony. peter can tell before anyone else when the farrier needs to be called. when one of the girls is pregnant, even before she starts showing. knows when one of the cattle dogs has a hurt paw without even seeing him. can tell when it’s going to rain, so he knows whether or not it’ll be a good day to cut the alfalfa fields

- it’s a little freaky to be honest but tony doesn’t hate it. it’s really useful with everything on the farm, and it’s... it’s nice. having someone that can so effortlessly understand him. 

- it’s also like peters... totally unaware of it. like he doesn’t even know he knows things he shouldnt know. which blows tony’s mind even more. 

- it kinda turns him on, and he finds himself with his hand around his cock wondering if peter knows he’s getting off thinking about him. like, more than once. maybe even more than once a week. definitely more than once a week. 

- and maybe peters kind of catching on, a little. that maybe his feelings toward his employer/landlord/new friend are shared

- it also doesn’t help that he gets uncontrollably aroused every time tony goes to bed. like. every... single... time...

- peter always knew he was.. attentive. but he didn’t know it would manifest as literally feeling tony’s arousal through the fucking walls

- and it doesn’t help that peter’s filling out. he’s getting darker as the months get warmer, he’s getting significantly more meat on his bones now that he’s eating more and working more

- and it really doesn’t help that tony is getting eyefuls of the half naked ranch hand almost 24/7. it’s really not his fault that peter works better without a shirt on

- and maybe it comes to a head one day. maybe they’re picking up alfalfa bales from one of the fields and they stop to take a break and tony just ,, can’t handle sweaty, tan, barely-a-twink-anymore peter.

- and peter can feel it, with his ,, unique senses, that tony’s watching him. like, a lot. like, way more than normal even 

- so he decides to play it up a bit. he takes his shirt off, he throws his gloves in the bed of the truck and balls the tee in his hands, wiping his face off with it and sighing deeply

- and he knows tony saw that because he could fucking hear tony’s breathing change and he smirks a little bit, because that’s enough confirmation for him to know for sure

- so he looks up, and he meets tony’s eyes, and they’re wild and feral and tony looks like one of the wolves that tried to take out one of their cows last winter - hungry and ready to devour what was in front of him

- and peter just looks at him, a little incredulous, and finally speaks up: ‘you gonna get over here ‘n kiss me, or what?’ - and tony fucking breaks

- he turns the truck off and slams the door when he gets out, grabbing peter by the neck and fucking dragging him against tony’s clothed body

- “do you know what you’ve been doing this whole time?” 

- of course peter does, tony, you fucking moron. he knows and he’s been trying to get you to rip him to shreds, dumbass. you’re just oblivious

- but tony still can’t help but see the tiny young man that walked up on his doorstep those years ago, can’t help but want to protect him and keep him safe and warm and fed 

- so of course tony wanted to go slow, and wanted to be gentle with peter

- but pete was having fucking none of that, because oh my god tony i’m not 19 anymore please just fuck me already and been wanting you for way too long and please tony just--  and he grabs tony’s hand and makes him squeeze even harder

- and it’s hot, and it’s messy, and it’s not even really sex, just them rutting and grabbing and jerking each other off up against the door of tony’s truck, belt buckles undone and jeans just barely tugged down

- and tony’s basking in it, watching peter’s eyes screw shut and his pretty plush lips open and the little ‘aah, nngh fuck, tony’s that push their way from his throat

- and he knows, the second they’re done here, they’re abandoning their work for the day and he’s taking peter back to the house and he’s going to show him what this is like for real, what it means to be touched with intention and love and emotion behind it - not just a quick handjob standing in the hay field

- and he does. he worships peter’s body when they get back to the house

- he kisses every single part of him, nips at the tiny bit of excess fat on his stomach and thighs and hips, relishing in the fact that peter is his, his to take care of, his to keep safe and healthy and happy

- and eventually, the guest room opens up again. peter’s stuff slowly moves into tony’s room. he stops getting paid, but that’s okay

- because why would you get paid to work on your own farm? 

[californiannostalgia]

Tangled the Series Character Analysis: Childhood Trauma POV

I can't believe Tangled the Series really created two incredible antivillains and threw them in direct contrast with the pre-existing golden couple. I love what the showrunners did with the main quartet, so I made a very subjective analysis post about it from a Childhood Trauma POV. (Spoilers, obviously.)

The Boys

The series' focus is on Rapunzel, and by association her direct opposite, Cassandra, so the boys get comparatively less screen time. But it doesn't take long to figure out that Varian is meant to be a parallel for Eugene—these are two people dealing with the absence of parental guardians, struggling to reconcile the lives they previously had with their changing ideals in relation to a less-than-perfect Father Figure.

They both respond to the helpless state of being young, alone, and powerless by trying to take back power in any way they can. Eugene reinvented himself and buried his desires for a family. Varian throws in everything he has into recovering what he lost, because he's a child and the best solution he can think of is to return to the familiar safety of his father's presence. A significant portion of his desperation is fueled by fear of his father’s disapproval, because as much as Quirin loves Varian, he wasn’t the dependable voice of support. Varian needs approval from outside sources, which was also Flynn Rider’s purpose in life, once upon a time. (Again, parallels.) 

Throughout the series, the boys' relationship with each other transforms from exasperated incomprehension to easy understanding. The process is hastened as Eugene lets himself realize he cares a lot about troubled kids who remind him of himself. He becomes aware that children should not be required to survive on their own like he and Lance had. Spurred on by his significant other's love and encouragement, Eugene is able to acknowledge the adverse affects of his childhood on his life and start moving on. His extending a ready hand to Varian is his process of healing. Though Eugene's first priority will always be Rapunzel, he truly wants to save Varian from the uncontrollable volatility of risky decisions because he knows that downward spiral intimately.

Of course, there is a difference between thieving from the rich and planning the destruction of a kingdom. We'll get to that later.

The Girls

Rapunzel and Cassandra are the biggest driving forces of narrative power in the show, and they are survivors of child abuse. Every one of the main quartet has Parent Issues, but Rapunzel takes the crown (figuratively speaking) with this one. She was kidnapped and groomed into a life-giving doll, and she was only able to escape her abusive adoptive mother through incredibly traumatizing means. For Cassandra, it was neglect, and even her loving adoptive father couldn't leviate the scars left on her childhood mind.

They're a classic case of Golden Child vs. Scapegoat, which is a common case seen in siblings raised by Narcissistic parents. When one child is "favored" more than the other, the kids experience vastly different childhoods, resulting in resentment that stems from their inability to understand each other. Rapunzel and Cassandra are both jealous of what the other had—Rapunzel wants Cassandra's casual, practiced ease with freedom and personal agency, while Cassandra wants the attention and respect that Rapunzel is given by the status of her birth. Because they're unwilling to speak candidly about the unique hardships of their childhood, what results is a series of miscommunications that put a strain on their friendship.

Cassandra and Rapunzel both want the other in their lives, but how they attempt to make that connection is very different. Cassandra wants to be a helpful, essential force in Rapunzel's life. Unfortunately, Rapunzel has been raised on the idea that when push comes to shove, no one will help her survive. Cassandra interprets Rapunzel's desire for independence as Rapunzel scorning the connection that Cassandra is attempting to create. Add in some manipulation from an ancient evil, and Cassandra decides she is done exhausting her emotions for Rapunzel.

Rapunzel, on the other hand, wants absolute honesty in her relationships. Gothel raised her on lies, so she spurns deception. But Cassandra knows the merits of protecting herself by holding her opinions in, which is where the misunderstandings occur. Rapunzel cannot trust someone who isn't completely forthright with her. She's tired of dealing with liars, and she grows afraid that Cassandra will cause her the same pain as Gothel did. But the thing is, Cassandra is not Gothel, and Rapunzel loved Gothel. She couldn't save Gothel, but maybe she can save Cassandra. It's not too late.

Rapunzel doesn't know when to give up on Cassandra because she is aware that she and Cassandra are similar people. Giving up on Cassandra would feel too much like giving up on her own hopes for a happy life. Rapunzel can't let Cassandra be unhappy. This princess cares too much, loves too hard. She never learned how to write people off because you can't survive a childhood like hers with that much cheer if you don't hang onto your optimism like a goddamn lifeline.

This is Rapunzel’s method of taking back power for herself: saving others. Rapunzel could have been Cassandra. Rapunzel is trying to believe she herself is worth saving—therefore, Cassandra must be worth saving as well. Rapunzel's significant other is giving her a stable source of love and support, but without a proper resolution to Cassandra's struggles—a final proof that despite Gothel's influence, they can both be happy—Rapunzel would feel incomplete.

The Golden Couple

At the end of the day, Rapunzel and Eugene are fundamentally good people. If it comes down to it, they would be unable to sacrifice the world for their own desires. (Eugene's thievery doesn't count as an expression of true desire because it was literally his method of survival. An expression of true, selfish desire for him might've been something like manipulation and abduction for the purposes of making people stay, but Eugene is not Gothel and he would never do that to anyone in a million years.) (On a side note, Rapunzel's selfish desire might've manifested in the abandonment of all duties and personal connections in favor of eternal exploration, or revenge towards a kingdom that failed to save her, or a thorough destruction of authority figures—but she loves people too much and would never be able to forsake her family.)

Life threw a lot of rocks at them, but these two came through it marginally well-adjusted. They affirmed their love for each other in a violent, unforgettable manner, which makes it easier for them to trust in each other's affection. Eugene would've been okay with never finding his biological father, just as Rapunzel had been okay with her biological parents' inability to protect her. They have no wish to punish the world for what they suffered. They’re content with who they are. They're just glad they made it, that they're finally allowed to love someone without being afraid. They're each other's saving grace.

The Antivillains

This is the difference between Hero and Antivillain: Cassandra and Varian are willing to punish the world for what happened to them. There’s a very faint line between justified retaliation and venting. In their desperation and anger, they cross the line, and they’re unable to stop themselves once they get going. Unlike the Golden Couple, Cassandra and Varian refuse to settle. They want what is owed. 

Also, they really, really hate themselves. (This is important.)

Varian believes Quirin is the ultimate source of affirmation. The fact that he lost his father by way of his own dangerous experiment, coupled with the fact that no one prioritizes his call for help in the face of national disaster, is enough to make him feel isolated from the world. Though he is burdened with a growing sense of remorse for his deeds, he doesn’t stop resorting to drastic, harmful measures to get his father back until he is forcefully stopped by betrayal from his allies. He finally makes the full transition from “antagonist” to “protagonist” when Rapunzel risks herself to save Quirin from the rocks. If Quirin could not be saved, there’s a possibility Varian might have stayed an antagonist, unenthusiastic though he may have been in his villainous role. As long as Quirin is trapped in those rocks, Varian remains the villain who put him there.

With Quirin safe, Varian allows himself to take huge steps in healing. He slowly rediscovers his self-worth, one that is separate from Quirin’s approval. Rapunzel—and by extension, Eugene—play the friendly, supportive role to Varian’s ingenuity, helping him along in his quest for self-acceptance. Varian still has trouble working through the heavily ingrained self-hatred, but he recovers enough confidence in his own judgment that he takes Eugene’s warning to heart and is able to install a safety device in his father’s helmet, just in case.

This is the Varian who meets Cassandra in the Tower that once belonged to Gothel. At this point in time, Cassandra has been manipulated into thinking of herself as weak and unimportant in comparison to Rapunzel. Her adoptive father, much like Quirin, was too gruff to be vocal with approvals. Her efforts have not been met with successes. She feels like a failure, and she hates feeling like a failure. This is Cassandra’s method of taking back power: by turning herself into someone unforgettable. If she can make something of herself, she’ll finally be able to prove Gothel wrong. She can be just as special as Rapunzel, if she’s given the chance. She wants that chance.

Similar to Varian, Cassandra doesn’t stop her downward spiral until her supposed ally and mentor betrays her and forcefully takes her power away. Only when there are no options left does she allow herself to admit that she was wrong. She is then rewarded for her honesty with Rapunzel’s love and trust. Armed with a new confidence, the sisters vanquish the evil together in an epic showdown that will long be remembered. Cassandra finally gets her dramatic hero’s tale.

Rapunzel and Eugene have an internal compass that lets them make snap decisions. They don’t have the healthiest self-esteem, but they can at least stand by what they think is right. Comparatively speaking, Cassandra and Varian have terrible self-esteem. They don’t trust their own judgment and are heavily influenced by outside forces. Without the constant barrage of trust and affection from Rapunzel, who is akin to a blazing sun when it comes to personal loyalty, these antivillains might never have reached their redemptive ending. They wouldn’t have been able to let go of their twisted priorities without outside influence. Can’t blame them for it, though.

It’s no surprise that Cassandra and Varian are relatable to many people. Who wouldn’t want to reclaim what was taken from them during childhood? (Of course, the problem occurs when you start hurting others to reclaim what you lost.) Their journey is a different kind of vulnerable from Rapunzel and Eugene’s journey, and it’s extraordinary in its detail. This show is essentially a long exploration of the various ways a parent can mess you up and the coping methods of kids who want to become more than their past, which is totally up my alley of expertise. I’m grateful I got to watch them grow taller than their trauma.

Finally, here’s a parting gif of Lance, because I love him and he’s a well-adjusted ray of sunshine. We all wish we could be as mentally stable as Lance—the main quartet included.

[missluthorwillseeyounow]

May You Always Be Satisfied

SuperCorp AU based on the song ‘Satisfied’

The tinkling of silverware against glass delicately ringing through the room pierces dully through the crystalline numbness surrounding Lena, and she looks up only when she hears her name amidst happy applause.

 "...... the maid-of-honor, Lena Luthor."

The delicate bell of apathy Lena has been existing in since the ceremony shatters, and she is saved only by the impeccable manners that have been drilled into her since early childhood. The perfect smile on her face is as permanent and forced as one painted on a wooden doll.

That is exactly how she feels as she stands, wooden and lifeless, her elaborate dress and corset feeling heavy and constricting around her chest and middle, cutting off her breath. But her glass is already raised, her voice somehow steady despite the roiling in her insides. 

"A toast to the groom!" She tips the glass toward her brother, handsome in his suit. Lex smiles at her, affectionate as ever.

Lena returns the smile, lingering in hesitation - and it's telling of how far gone she is, because Lena Luthor never hesitates, always wrestles her fears into submission - before letting her eyes slide to the woman beside him. She carefully curates the smile on her face, fearing it will betray her at this moment.

"To the bride."

The crowd echoes her words, all turning with fondness at the blushing woman in ivory white sitting beside Lex Luthor. Golden hair crowned with flowers and a sweet blush adorning her face, she is exquisite, and Lena's heart squeezes painfully in her chest.

Linda Lee Luthor, nee Danvers. That is how people call her now. Even Lex calls her by that name - it makes sense to call her Linda, he says -- she is still in hiding, and Linda was the name given to her by her adopted family since they arrived in Metropolis. It's a name fitting for a Luthor.

 Only Lena still calls her Kara.

 She had insisted on it, her warm hands clasping Lena's moments after she and Lex had announced their engagement to the room filled with their loved ones - family friends, Lex's associates, and Kara's kin.

Lena is now the only one, outside of a select group comprised of Kryptonian immigrants and Kara's family and friends, who calls her by the name she was born with.

"From your sister, who is always by your side." Lena smiles her way through the envy clogging her throat. It is the great tragedy of her life that she means every word out of her mouth - oh, how she means every felicitous wish of happiness that she expresses for her brother and his new wife, she means it with all the love in her heart she bears for both of them - and yet each one rasps out of her throat like a bittersweet barb as her gaze lands on that smiling face and those lovely eyes sparkling with joy.

"To your union!" Lena lets her fond gaze travel from the couple to the people surrounding them, citizens of Metropolis and Krypton all sharing the same table, thanks to these two most important people in her life. "And the hope that you provide."

Hope. That is what Kara is, and always will be for Lena. And that is what she is for her people.

"May you always be satisfied."

_____________

In 1763, Krypton was ravaged by Civil War.

Young Kara was always inquisitive, even at the age of thirteen -- “nosy”, her Aunt Astra had called it fondly -- and she’d heard whispers, between her parents, and Aunt Astra and Uncle Non. 

Rumors of the House of Daxam. Of the formidable Lady Rhea. Of plots against the House of El. 

It seemed preposterous at the time. She’d grown up under the near-holy light of the House of El. Her family had ruled Krypton for over a hundred years, and, it seemed, would rule a hundred more. Under its banner, Krypton had flourished. Her father’s brother, Jor-El II had been Bethgar even before Kara was born, and would continue to rule until her older cousin Kal succeeded him. On and on, the House of El would stand mighty, carrying Krypton on its unwavering back.

But she’d been too young, or perhaps too naive, to understand.

That night -- the night that changed Kara Zor-El’s life and destroyed everything she knew -- she was roused from her sleep by her mother, whose urgent face was drawn and pale. 

She’d never seen the aristocratic Alura Zor-El look so ... terrified, and it frightened Kara. At her mother’s frantic insistence, the confused girl put on her warmest clothes and was just about to put on her favorite cloak with the El crest emblazoned on the back, but her mother yanked it off urgently.

“No! Not that one. Put this on,” Alura threw the mantle aside and grabbed another cloak, one of Kara’s older ones -- simpler and more worn, she’d always lamented that Kara looked like a street urchin rather than a princess in it. 

Now she wrapped it securely around Kara’s shoulders and pulled the cowl up so that it obscured Kara’s golden hair and part of her face. “Now, follow me. Quickly!”

Her mother herded her down the vast marble steps, Kara struggling to keep up with her. There were raised voices all over the place, and was that smoke rising from the West Tower? As they rushed by a window, Kara could see the angry orange glow of a raging fire emanating from the tower that housed Kara’s beloved Science Guild. She wanted to run to the window and see, but Alura steered her firmly away.

She and her mother were met at the foot of the stairs by her father and Kal. Her older cousin was also wearing a cloak like Kara’s, his face similarly obscured, and it only added to Kara’s confusion. “Ieiu, Ukr. What’s going on?!”

Her mother hurriedly clapped a hand over Kara’s mouth, but it was too late. Her high, panicked voice carried through the empty hall and alerted others to their presence. She heard yells -- that was her Uncle Non’s voice! -- booming from beyond the Great Hall. 

“There! They’re over there! Get them!”

Her father’s face hardened as he drew his sword and turned toward the mob pursuing them, his own kinsman among them. Their faces twisted and contorted like the monsters from the bedtime stories Kara had heard as a child, except these faces were terrifying real, glowing red from the light of their torches, and they were coming for Kara and her family.

At the head of the army was a tall, regal woman with eyes that reminded her of the stones at the riverbank she used to play in -- cold, black and smooth. She wore an armor stained dark with blood -- Uncle Jor-El’s blood, she would later learn.

At the sight of Kara and Kal, the smooth coldness of the woman’s dark gaze morphed into something mad and feral, and her lips twisted into a cruel smile. A blade glinted dangerously in her hand.

“Alura! Take the children and go!” Zor-El planted himself between the woman and his family. “I’ll hold them off! GO!”

Kara stood frozen in terror as her father raised his sword and the woman loomed over him with her eyes as black as stones and as mad as the inferno that engulfed the West Tower. She couldn’t have moved if her mother hadn’t yanked at her elbow, pulling her along as Alura and Kal fled down a back corridor. 

Kara’s feet could barely keep up with them, and she struggled, screaming for her father, begging to go back and help him.

She struggled so much that Kal had to scoop her up in his arms -- it occurred to her vaguely in the back of her mind that he hadn’t carried her like a babe since she was a child, she was too big to be carried now -- but they ran faster, faster down narrow passageways, with the din of a pursuing mob behind them -- and all Kara could think of was her father struck down by that woman.

They reached the end of a corridor and Kal kicked the door open. He set Kara down long enough to barricade the door against their pursuers with Alura’s help. It was only then that Kara realized they were at the stables.

“We have to go back! Ieiu, Kal, we have to go back!”

“Kara,” Alura abandoned her task to take Kara by the shoulders. “Listen to me. I will go back to your father, but you -- you and Kal must go. Quickly, Kal. Take Steyg, he’s the fastest and he can carry you both…. Listen to me, Kara. You must be brave now. You must be strong. Your journey will be long and hard, but your father and I will be with you always.”

Alura reached around her neck and hurriedly unclasped the necklace Kara knew she always wore there -- the one with the crest of the House of El that Zor-El had given her on their Bonding Ceremony years ago. 

Alura pressed her necklace into Kara’s palm and curled her small fingers around it. Even through her panic and confusion, Kara could see the tears in her mother’s eyes. She pulled Kara close, and Kara clung to her tightly, out of fear and a panicked certainty that she would never be able to hold her mother again.

“I am so proud of you, my Kara.” Alura whispered in her ear, her voice thick with tears. “I know you will do extraordinary things.”

Too soon -- much too soon -- they heard the clamor of their pursuers beyond the barricaded door, and Alura hoisted Kara up onto the horse in front of Kal. 

“Take care of her, Kal. Go to the docks, there’s a ship waiting there that can take you to Metropolis. Look for Jeremiah Danvers. He was your father’s friend many years ago, and he will help you.” Alura’s fingers dug into Kal’s arm for one second more before she let go and pushed Steyg into motion. “Be safe. Don’t let them find you!”

Steyg was already galloping away when they heard the mob break through the barricade. Kara cried out and struggled to turn back, but Kal wouldn’t let her. He was immovable, no matter how much she pushed and pushed against him. 

“We can’t go back, Kara. We can’t!”

They reached the docks after a few hours’ ride, Kal pushing Steyg to his limit while a sobbing Kara helplessly clung to him. The horse was given as payment to the Captain who let them hide in the ship with the other survivors just before it slipped its moorings. 

They stayed hidden below deck, shivering out of fear and cold. The others --  supporters of the House of El, old enemies of the House of Daxam, slaves owned by the House of Daxam making a bid for freedom -- crowded around them, like moths drawn to a flame. They all huddled close to each other, hidden in the underbelly of the ship, staring at Kal and Kara, murmuring “Kir Bethgar… Kir Bythgar… Zhaonah… Zrhythrev Ehl… Voikirahm...”

Kara didn’t hear any of it. She spent most of the trip in a numb, shocked haze, clinging to Kal for most of the journey. The only thing that jolted her out of her catatonic haze was whenever Kal moved away, to retrieve food for them or to assist another refugee. 

If Kara wasn’t holding onto a piece of Kal at any given moment, she would be besieged by a mindless terror that caused her to gasp for breath, fat tears leaking out of her eyes before she could stop them. 

The only thing that could calm her was Kal holding her again, rocking her as the ship creaked around them, the sound of the waves lapping at the ship creating a dull rushing in her ears, allowing her to slowly calm down.

Finally, after weeks at sea, they docked at Metropolis in the dead of the night. Met in secret by Jor-El’s old friend, Jeremiah Danvers and his wife Eliza, who received them into their house warmly. 

Only to tell them that Kal could not stay.

Kara was appalled and near-wild with fear. Jeremiah was talking on and on about the danger of the two of them being seen together, about how Jeremiah’s friendship with Jor-El had been well-known and it would only be too easy to deduce Kal’s lineage if he was suddenly adopted by the Danvers, Kara could stay, she shared Eliza’s coloring and looked enough like her that she could pass for a family relation, but Kal must go, perhaps to his friends, the Kents, who lived west of Metropolis --

But all Kara could hear was that Kal -- her only family left -- would be taken from her.

“no…. no… No… No! ….. NO! NO!!!” Kara could only mutter over and over, shaking her head back and forth, each interjection a terrified moan that escalated into high-pitched shrieks that both Jeremiah and Kal hurriedly tried to silence for fear of discovery.

Her screaming woke the Danvers’ daughter Alexandra, who found them all trying to subdue Kara, who was now crying and screeching inconsolably while clinging to Kal. Eliza was trying to wrap a blanket around her, but Kara refused to let go of her cousin. 

“Alexandra, make a cup of tea. And fetch the laudanum from the cupboard.” Alexandra, confused and a little frightened of this howling creature, complied with her mother’s orders for the first time without protest.

In the end, there was no help for it, and they all knew it. 

Kara would not be safe with Kal. They would be too easily discovered together -- two displaced young people with the telltale brilliant blue El eyes arriving in Metropolis at the same time the Prince and Princess of Krypton went missing? It would be frighteningly easy for Rhea -- who had now established herself Bythgar of Krypton -- to discover them.

So Kal stayed with the Kents, distant friends of Jeremiah’s, who lived out west in Smallville. And Kara stayed with the Danvers in Metropolis. Plagued nightly by nightmares of her family burning or dying at the hands of Rhea with her stone-black eyes.

Every night, Eliza Danvers slept in a chair beside her bed. Whenever Kara woke up screaming and shaking, Eliza was there, with her gentle calming voice, to smooth her hair back and hold her until she felt safe enough to sleep again. She wasn’t her mother -- could never be her mother -- but Eliza was a desperately-needed source of comfort for the terrified young girl.

The Danvers’ daughter, Alexandra was more than a little chilly toward her at first. Especially after her first impression of Kara, and especially after Kara called her Alexandra, a name she loathed with a burning passion. Alex treated her more like a nuisance than a sister during the first few months of her stay with the family.

Until one night, when Jeremiah and Eliza were invited to dinner at the Luthor Manor. 

One did not simply turn down an invitation from the Luthors, and not even a renowned doctor like Jeremiah could refuse. Eliza was unable to sit with Kara that night, and the young girl, terrified of the nightmares, huddled in her bed, forcing herself to stay awake. 

Sometime in the night, Alex found her there, crying silently, curled into a painful little ball. 

Alex took one look at Kara, and with a deep, resigned sigh, she pulled the covers back and slipped into the bed beside the young girl, holding her gingerly. 

It was awkward, since Alex did not customarily like giving or receiving hugs, but she made an effort to pat Kara stiffly on the back. 

Instead of soothing her, the clumsy attempt at comfort made Kara snort a laugh, and Alex glared at her. But as her next attempts at comfort got no less awkward, Alex was forced to acknowledge to herself how inept she was at this, and she reluctantly joined in on Kara’s laughter.

Both Eliza and Jeremiah were astonished to see both girls sleeping soundly on the same bed when they got home late that night. 

And they were even more astonished to see Alex pushing her bed into Kara’s room the next day. When asked what she was doing, Alex replied sniffily “Well, clearly she’s useless on her own. Someone has got to make sure she behaves like an actual human being!”

From then on, they were inseparable.

It was Alex who still called her Kara, even when the Danvers said that she must change her name to Linda to avoid detection. 

It was Alex who stayed up with Kara on each passing birthday, waiting for Kal -- whose name was now Clark Kent -- to visit. He never did, though a letter would often arrive. Except Kara hated those more, because they had to be impersonal to avoid giving away information, and as such each missive contained as much emotion and affection as a handshake. 

And it was Alex who would usually end the day making increasingly diabolical plans to get petty revenge on him to make Kara laugh.

It was Kara who took Alex’s side in every argument she had with Eliza. It was Kara who made funny faces behind her silk fan to entertain Alex whenever Eliza forced them to accompany her to a luncheon. 

And it was Kara who held Alex’s hand tight as they stood silently at Jeremiah Danvers’ grave. It was Kara who sat quietly beside Alex after the funeral, and said nothing when Alex began sobbing -- faintly, in halting, reserved hiccups at first, then bigger and bigger until she was rasping her grief out into Kara’s collar while Kara stroked her hair.

Still, despite their mourning, there were still some things to be thankful for. They were far better off than the other Kryptonian stowaways with whom Kara had shared close quarters in the ship years ago.

The Kryptonian refugees had gathered among themselves, banding together like a school of fish in hostile waters -- which they were. 

Metropolis was not kind to them. Metropolitans were trade people, and while some had welcomed the new business, most were resentful of these newcomers whom they whispered had come to take their land, their resources and livelihood.

And so, the Kryptonians had kept mostly to themselves all these years, making a home for themselves in the fringes of this new land they had found themselves in. Within a few years, a growing settlement had formed, a hopeful patch of land they had called New Argo, after the city that once had been their home.

Here, in New Argo, the Kryptonians felt safe -- away from the reach of Rhea and the House of Daxam. And if they were not accepted, they were at least somewhat tolerated by the Metropolitans. 

Most Metropolitans would not cross into New Argo, and very few Kryptonians ventured too far into Metropolis. The few exceptions were Kara -- who lived in Metropolis with the Danvers family -- and the Olsens, who along with the Nals, owned an apothecary shop on Bakerline. 

_________

It is in this manner that Kara is brought up, with one foot in one world and one foot in the other. Never quite able to let go of the past and uncertain of the future, never able to share the entirety of herself to another.

Now that they’re older, Kal -- or Clark, as he seemed more to be now, since Kara saw little of the Kal she had known before in him now -- visits New Argo and Metropolis more often. 

He tries -- for Kara -- she knows he does. 

He makes attempts to cross the gulf that has opened between them, but it’s hard. There is too much secrecy, the need for it permeating every aspect of their lives so that neither of them really knows what to say to the other any more.

He does tell her things about himself -- how he has been invited to write for the new publication that Perry White, a visionary publisher, and an illustrious and irrepressible widow named Cat Grant had been trying to get off the ground. The paper is to be called The Daily Planet, and Clark is tremendously excited at how much good he could do in such a position. 

He speaks of how he had been invited to dine with the famed Luthor family, and had met the enigmatic Lex Luthor, who helms the Luthor Trading Company, and his beautiful sister. How he had the most fascinating conversation with a woman named Lois about the Metropolitans’ stance on New Argo at dinner with the Lanes’, and how they had spoken about what actions could be taken to build a bridge between the Metropolitans and the Kryptonians.

Kara tries to appreciate Kal’s efforts, but she cannot help but feel disconnected from him. Where is the boy who had taught her the prayers of Rao’s faithful? Who stood, tall, youthful and earnest in The Great Hall beside his father and told Kara stories of the Bethgars of old, and took pride in their family's legacy?

He asks about Kara’s life, but truthfully, there is not much to tell, and she can’t help but feel that this is at least partly his fault. The Danvers have sheltered her all these years for her own protection, but there is much she knows she has been kept from. 

It's been thirteen years since that night.

Thirteen years of change and secrecy, of hiding, of holding herself back in so many ways. 

Nights like this, however, give her the chance to drop her guard.

Tucked in cellar of Megan Mores’ home on the boundary between New Argo and Metropolis, she laughs as she watches the revelry around her. Even with twenty or so people crammed in the basement lit only by candles, her people still know how to have a good time.

She claps in time to the lively beat reverberating through the small space, nearly shaking the walls each time James plays the belahdiehd. 

Winn, one of her oldest friends and one of the few Metropolitans present, is well on his way to drunk from the Aldebaran rum Megan has been pouring all night. Someone really should have told Winn that stuff is deadly to anyone who doesn’t have a Kryptonian’s constitution for liquor.

Most of the revelers are Kryptonian and all of them are familiar to her. She waves to each of them and stops to converse with each one, cheerfully inquiring about their livelihoods and their little ones. They all respond warmly, chatting and laughing heartily with her. 

In the safety of this secret cloistered place, they all still call her Kara and the ones who are old enough to remember Krypton before they fled still call her Kir Bythgar, and she doesn’t have the heart to remind them that she is a princess no longer. She’s not Kara Zor-El anymore, she’s just Linda Lee Danvers.

She doesn’t begrudge them their nostalgia. She’s lived in Metropolis for thirteen years now, she’s lived here just as many years as she lived in Krypton. Outside of this basement, she looks and acts a Metropolitan as much as Alex does -- but she knows, in her heart, that a part of her is still that thirteen-year-old Kryptonian princess who never grew up.

She never speaks it out loud -- and she only ever lets herself think this thought at Gatherings like this, when she doesn't have to be Linda Lee Danvers -- but sometimes Kara feels as if she is the only El left.

Kal-El is now Clark Kent. He never speaks of Krypton. Instead, he speaks of Metropolis as if it is his home. He never speaks of their old friends in Krypton. He no longer speaks of their family, as if they had all vanished into the ether that terrible night.

Instead, every word out of Clark's mouth nowadays is usually attached to one of two names -- that of Lois Lane or Lex Luthor.

One is his beloved, and the other he calls his dearest friend. Kara sometimes wants to tease him that she can't tell which is which the way he talks about them both, but she and Clark are no longer familiar in that way.

She's never met Lex Luthor, but Kara has met Lois -- or rather, Linda has met Lois. She likes the older woman well enough: Lois is intelligent, bold and unafraid of speaking her mind. She keeps Clark on his toes, and she can see how happy Clark is with her.

Kara sometimes wishes she could be like her, that she can be as free with her words and her mind as Lois seems to be.

She spots Alex across the room. She’s talking to Kelly and another woman Kara doesn’t recognize. She can’t quite see her face, but from the looks of her, particularly the elegance of her clothes, she’s Metropolitan.

Alex beckons her over, and as Kara approaches, the other woman turns around, and the first thing that Kara immediately notices is the brilliant clarity of the woman’s jade-green eyes as she surveys the celebrations. There’s an agile curiosity in the way she watches the revelry around her, the people dancing to the belahd.

“This is my sister, Linda Lee.”

Those curious eyes flit to Kara’s and the lady holds out her hand. Kara takes it, expecting it to be soft and delicate, but instead, the other woman’s hands are surprisingly calloused and her grip is firm. She smiles archly as Kara stares at her. “Lena Luthor.”

So this is Lena Luthor. Only daughter of the most powerful family in Metropolis, and the sister of Clark’s best friend.

Kara vaguely remembers that Clark had described her as ‘beautiful’, but now she realizes her cousin has not done her justice. Lena Luthor is lissome and regal, her every move elegant even in the confines of this tiny, cloistered basement.

When Kelly manages to pull Alex over to the small makeshift dance floor, Kara and Lena are left on their own. Kara shifts nervously at first, unsure of what to say. Her sheltered upbringing has somewhat limited her capacity for small talk, and it’s especially difficult to come up with interesting and engaging conversation when faced with someone as beautiful and important as Lena Luthor.

But Lena surprises her. 

She’s a stranger to these Gatherings. Most Metropolitans are, since very few come to them. Lena is brimming with curiosity and asks about every dance and every song James plays on the belahdiehd. 

Kara tries to be careful about her answers. After all, she is supposed to be a Metropolitan too.

But Lena turns out to be dangerously easy to talk to. She’s effortlessly charming and she seems genuinely interested in listening to whatever Kara has to say.

At one point, their conversation turns to the latest advances in science, and Lena lights up even more. “.... I’ve heard of a self-taught inoculator from Scotland who claims to have developed a cure for smallpox, and while I’m skeptical about his technique, I think his ideas might have some merit.”

And Kara, who was once the youngest member of the Kryptonian Science Guild, is enthralled. She chimes in unreservedly, and the two of them spend most of the night by the fire, talking and talking. Kara doesn’t think she’s talked to someone this much or this freely in a long time, except perhaps Alex.

She tips her head, surveying Lena during a lull in their conversation. She’s never been good at filtering her thoughts before they leave her mouth, and Lena’s company is easy and comfortable. “You strike me as a woman who has never been satisfied.”

Lena stills. For the first time in their conversation, she draws herself up to her full height, and Kara is reminded of her station. “I’m sure I don’t know what you mean. You forget yourself, Miss Danvers.”

And Kara looks away, down at her hands, sure she’s overstepped. “I just -- I only meant.... You’re like me.” she fiddles with her hands on her lap. “I’ve never been satisfied.”

It’s Lena’s turn to study her. One perfect eyebrow arches. “Is that right?”

Kara nods, risking a glance at her companion. Lena is watching her with a strange look on her face, thoughtful and measuring at the same time. She’s spared the agony of thinking of a reply when Megan announces that the Metropolitan Police have started their patrol.

While there is nothing illegal about the Gatherings, people tend to frown at any event that brings Metropolitans and Kryptonians together, and they don’t need to bring down the wrath of any Metropolitan authorities on New Argo. The crowd disperses quickly, but quietly.

Kara walks Lena back to her carriage, while Alex waits impatiently for her in theirs. Lena gives her a contemplative smile as she stops at the small door. “Thank you for a very interesting evening. Goodbye, Linda.”

The name jolts Kara, and she flounders. It sounds wrong coming from Lena. Just before Lena climbs into the carriage, Kara takes her wrist. And despite the all of the warnings that have been drilled into her by Alex, Jeremiah, Eliza and Kal, she finds herself speaking in a quiet voice meant only for the other woman.

“Kara. My name is Kara Zor-El.”

___________

Kara Zor-El.

The name has been swirling in Lena’s head since she heard it that night at the Gathering. The name had confirmed Lena's suspicion that "Linda" was Kryptonian.

It changes nothing for her.

She had found Linda -- Kara -- to be a very intriguing woman. Pretty, mild-mannered and unassuming at first glance, but so very quick and clever behind those lovely azure eyes -- with a straightforward frankness that had both surprised and ensnared Lena.

It doesn’t matter to her that Kara is Kryptonian, but she does want to know more.

Kara Zor-El.

The name is somehow familiar. She has heard the name before.

She asks around as discreetly as she can, and her inquiries lead her to the deposed House of El and its missing scions, believed to be dead.

Clearly not, if Kara -- Linda -- is to be believed.

The next time they meet is at a garden party. As the widow of an important doctor, Eliza is invited. Alex and Kara tag along as her dutiful daughters, Alex squirming in her dress the whole way.

Lena gravitates toward Kara, and she can see the trepidation in her eyes. Kara’s hands open and close nervously at her sides as she awaits Lena’s reaction.

Lena leads them away from prying eyes down a small path, and as their surroundings get less crowded, Kara seems to become less agitated. She calms more the farther they get from the party.

By the time they reach the lovely little fountain at the end of the path, Kara has visibly relaxed, though she still looks at Lena tentatively.

“Why did you tell me your secret?”

Kara ducks her head, watches the water burbling in the fountain for a long moment. “I don’t know.... I’ve only told one other person, and that was Winn, and he’s been my friend since I first came here. He’s practically a brother to me. Only my family and the other Kryptonians from New Argo know.”

“So why tell me?” Lena asks softly.

Kara meets her eyes slowly, and Lena can see the plain honesty in the, “It’s very easy to trust you.”

A sense of lightness sweeps over Lena’s chest, and she smiles. “It’s very easy to trust you too.”

A slow smile blooms over Kara’s face, and Lena delights in it for a long moment. Then she reaches out and, very gently, touches Kara’s hand.

“Tell me about Krypton.”

___________

That is where it begins for Lena. The slow, intoxicating downward spiral of emotions that Kara induced in her.

It only grows from that one conversation, in which she had listened, enraptured, to Kara’s stories of Krypton. And with each new encounter -- over tea, at parties she makes sure Kara is invited to -- Lena becomes more and more enamored, until she catches her heart racing when she sees Kara’s smile. 

And she knows.

When Kara places her hand lightly on top of hers, and Lena’s heart skips a beat. When Lena says something that makes Kara throw her head back and laugh, and her heart soars along with the sound of Kara’s laughter -- she knows that what she feels has grown into something more.

She also knows there is simply nothing to be done about it.

Lillian has been pushing her to choose between two suitors, Jack Spheer and Morgan Edge. But Edge is simply abhorrent in every way, and while she adores Jack with all her heart, the thought of Jacky as a husband makes her balk just as much, because he has been a friend and almost a brother since childhood.

So it really is quite impossible for anything to come out of Lena's feelings, and so she keeps them to herself.

Then there is also the matter of Kara’s true identity. She has been in hiding for a long time, but the only thing protecting her right now is her anonymity. What happens if that is somehow taken away from her? She would be in danger, not just from Rhea, but also the other Metropolitans who are already hostile toward the Kryptonians. 

The anti-Kryptonian sentiment has been rising with alarming swiftness throughout Metropolis recently. Enough that Lena knows Kara’s cousin has been investigating possible links between Rhea's regime in Krypton. It’s already necessitated several dangerous trips there for Clark, Kara has told her, and Lena is worried for her friend. 

But, if Kara were under the protection of the Luthors....

No one would dare to come after Kara if she had the might of the Luthor family behind her.

As she watches Kara try to sip her tea as delicately as possible, Lena makes her decision. She reaches across the table and takes Kara’s hand. “Come with me.”

She rises, tugging Kara lightly with her. Kara sets the teacup down carefully, as if trying to avoid breaking the delicate thing. She tips her head curiously at Lena, but allows her to pull her along. “Where are we going?”

“I’m about to change your life.”

She leads Kara to the door of Lex’s study and knocks.

__________

Lex Luthor is a strange man, Kara thinks.

There’s something about him, something enigmatic that immediately draws the eye. Perhaps its the way he moves with confident ease through any room, commanding attention. He’s larger than life, and he has a charismatic way about him that makes it easy to gravitate toward him.

Kara doesn’t quite feel the same ease with him that she does with Lena, and in fact, she feels a certain discomfiture around him when he first asks to court her. She’s never had anyone court her, and to have her first suitor be the great Lex Luthor is enough to make Kara want to curl in on herself and hide.

It takes her and every one around her aback, because Lex is older and such a prominent figure, and Kara is, well, Kara. Or rather, Linda. But Lex gallantly applies himself to the task, and with Lena gently encouraging her, Kara slowly warms to him and she begins to spend more time with him. 

Lex treats her with the same affection he gives Lena, and Kara has to admit, it feels nice to be the center of someone’s attention. She warms to him the way she warms to everyone else. She doesn't feel any of the affection for him that she saw between Jeremiah and Eliza, but she likes him well enough because Lena seems to love him so much. And she supposes that love can come later when they are married.

And Kara does find him intriguing. These Luthors entrance her, with their piercing intelligence and easy charisma. Lex reminds her of Lena, a bit. The way their brilliance simmers just underneath the skin -- Lena's brilliance is more tranquil; it radiates from her, like the sheen of a pearl; but with Lex it seems to coil and tense under a thin veneer.

She craves to know more about them. Kara calls on Luthor Manor more and more often. Often, it's Lex she sees there, since he is her intended. And she enjoys reading the books he gives her, and playing chess with him.

He tells her stories, of the history of the world as they play, things she never knew from her sheltered upbringing with the Danvers. Her family never neglected her education, nor did they keep her ignorant, but there is so much Kara has been kept from, and Lex, like Lena, seems to know so much.

On one occasion, he tells her of Philip of Macedon, and his son Alexander the Great, for whom Lex himself was named, and how he conquered the world. And Kara smiles as she moves her next piece.

"This appeals to you, the idea of conquering the world." This is as close as Kara's come to teasing him, and she lets it show in her voice. It's almost domestic, this routine they've fallen into while playing chess.

Lex huffs a short laugh. "You sound like my sister."

Kara can't help it, the way she looks up at any mention of Lena's name, the warmth it introduces to her chest, spilling down to her stomach slowly, like honey. Her smile is soft, and Lex notices.

"You remind me of her sometimes. The two of you share many things." 

"Well," Kara keeps her voice light. "We are friends."

"More than that, you two are kindred spirits. You both aspire to be good." There's a note in Lex's voice that sounds almost condescending at the word. "You both believe in the good in people. You both belong in the light."

Then he smiles, teeth flashing. “Checkmate.”

“Not again!” Kara groans, and Lex laughs, teasing. She ducks her head and joins him in light laughter. It feels comfortable, and Lex promises to teach her how to play better with an affectionate smile. She can see why Lena loves him.

The more time Kara spends with Lex, the more she likes him.  And the more time she spends with Lena, the happier she is. This is nice, she thinks. Playing chess with Lex, then having tea with Lena in her lovely sitting room later, just the two of them.

Whenever Kara gets back home, she's always smiling brightly, and Eliza teases her, says it's the happiness of a young girl in love. Alex is a little bit more skeptical, but she sees Kara’s light mood, and she refrains from saying anything.

When she joins Lena for tea later that week, Kara gives her permission to tell Lex her secret.

_____________

Lena watches the growing closeness between her brother and her friend from the sidelines.

She can see how much good this union will do. It's necessary, it's best for Kara, to protect her. And on top of that, she can see the hope it gives Kara’s people. 

Already, she can see the changes.

Kara's true identity is still secret, of course, but as she becomes more and more visible with the Luthors, among the Kryptonians of Argo -- who know who Kara truly is, and look to her and her cousin as their leaders -- there is already a burgeoning sense of cautious hope, a possibility of more than just existing alongside the people of Metropolis, but of a union, of acceptance.

And this, to Lena, is further proof that she made the right choice. That this is the best way.

Lena can see the way Lex makes Kara smile, and he is as affectionate toward her as he is with Lena herself. And Kara, sweet Kara, who envelops everyone with her warmth and earnestness -- how could anyone not love her?

And Kara is always so excited to tell Lena everything she and Lex talk of. More than anything, Lena cherishes the moments she and Kara share just before Kara leaves. After her visit with Lex, Lena gets to steal Kara for herself, a little bit of precious time for the two of them to talk. ‘Ladies' gossip’, Lex calls it.

But these moments are never filled with idle chatter for Lena. 

She's enraptured by everything Kara has to say, about Krypton, about the new things she's learned from Lex -- Lena has heard them all, of course, but seeing everything through Kara's eyes provides her with a uniquely refreshing perspective that thrills her. 

And Kara seems equally interested in everything Lena has to say, God knows why -- but she'll listen raptly as Lena babbles on about her study in finding vaccinations for smallpox, which everyone else regards as preposterous and unladylike, but Kara nods along excitedly and provides her own ideas and opinions

This is more than Lena can hope for. This way, she gets to keep Kara in her life.

Kara was wrong. Lena can learn to be satisfied. She can.

When Clark returns from Krypton, Lex suggests to Lena that they all dine together. 

"They are to be part of the family, after all." There's something about the way he says it, a note just slightly off-tune, his smile a tad too much like the one Lex wears when he plays chess against her and is near victory.

But then he puts his arm around her, warm affection all but seeping through his voice against Lena's temple.

"And I owe it all to you, sister. This is all because of you, Lena. Remember that."

Lena takes this for ardor, and she embraces him warmly, accepting his affection and gratitude as if it doesn't pain her, as if she is happy for him. 

And she is.

__________

This is the domestic scene Clark comes home to, Kara all but ensconced in the Luthor home. His first instinct is to be defensive, to protect his cousin -- they’ve kept their identities hidden for so long, how can Kara share the truth without telling him?

But then he sees her with the Luthors. 

Lillian is distant and pragmatic, but Lex is affectionate toward her, and Clark knows his closest friend to be a trustworthy man. He would never hurt Kara.

And Lena, well.... Clark sees the clear devotion between the two women, and he’s happy Kara has found a loyal friend and a confidante of her own. And when he sees how lighter she seems now than she ever has since they left Krypton, he smiles and tells her he’s happy for her.

___________

It begins after the wedding.

More and more Kryptonians had begun integrating into Metropolis, and the Gatherings between Metropolitans and Kryptonians become less secret and become more of the celebrations they were always meant to be. Kara’s marriage had drawn Kryptonians and their supporters out, and it had been a hopeful thing.

Until the Children of Liberty emerged with them.

They had started out in the fringes -- small, random isolated attacks, and Clark had been keeping an eye on them. However, they gain momentum quickly as more Kryptonians come out of the woodwork and become bigger targets for bigger attacks.

Storefronts damaged and defaced in the dead of night. A hooded and masked group carrying torches chasing down and terrorizing a young Kryptonian girl who had ventured into Metropolis to visit the Nals’ apothecary at Bakerline. Luckily, Clark and James had been nearby and had managed to fight most of the group off, while Nia had taken the girl quickly back to New Argo and delivered her safely to her parents.

And then the illness starts.

It hits the older people first. A couple of people, then five, then ten, then enough that Kelly has to leave the apothecary so she can tend to the sick.

Then come the children. Little ones crying for their mothers as they convulse on the bed, sweating and heaving. One after the other, they fall ill and Kelly makes a valiant effort, but it’s simply too much, and even Eliza and Alex have to come and help.

It’s simply too much, and Kara cannot stand by and let this happen to her people. An illness that only spreads among Kryptonians? It’s too deliberate. She knows that somehow, the Children of Liberty are behind this.

The organization is shadowy and incredibly effective, leading Lena, Kara and Clark to believe that it's being funded by people in high places. Lex offers to help the investigation by giving them access to Luthor Trading Co resources, but the answers remain elusive.

It’s only after weeks of fruitless investigation into the Children of Liberty and after several Kryptonians have already died of the mysterious disease, that Kara discovers that the sickness is caused by a certain substance found only on Krypton called Kryptonite. She discovers that it has been introduced to New Argo’s water supply, and the efforts to stop the spread begin in earnest, but the damage has been done, and the sick continue to get sicker.

Clark manages to procure a sample with great difficulty, despite the resources Lex has offered, and he gives the sample to Lena to study.

Lena applies all her skills and intellect into developing an antidote and a vaccine to the Kryptonite like she has never applied herself to anything before. She studies the substance diligently, with little thought to food or sleep.

When she has a breakthrough -- finally discovers how the substance was produced and takes one step closer to finding a cure -- it’s not what she expects. Nor what she wants to see.

The Kryptonite, she discovers, targets specific parts of the body’s cells, and Kryptonians have a particularly high susceptibility to the substance. And even more than disturbing, some of the materials that are necessary to produce the Kryptonite are incredibly rare. In fact, she knows only one trading company who would possibly have access to these materials.

Luthor Trading Company.

She enters her mother’s study on shaking legs. Lillian spares her a short disdainful look before returning to her book.

“How could you, Mother?”

Lillian doesn’t look up, merely drawls in a bored voice “How could I what?”

“All those people.... I knew you were no saint, but I had no idea you were the devil incarnate.”

This time, Lillian does look up with casual, almost bored, disdain. “What are you talking about?”

“Those people in New Argo! You procured the materials to produce Kryptonite, and you poisoned their water supply! Why would you do this?? Don’t tell me you’re one of those fools who believes the Kryptonians are here to steal resources from our business? How could that ever justify killing them? How could that ever justify what you’ve done?”

Lillian rises from her desk and pins Lena with a glacial look. For a moment, Lena feels like a child being cowed into submission. But she holds her ground.

“If I were you, I would choose my next words wisely, Lena. Don’t go making accusations on things you know nothing about. I'm not the one you should be chastising. After all, I’m not the one who poisoned those people. And I’m certainly not the one about to deliver your friend to her greatest enemy”

“What? What are you talking about?”

Lillian laughs, low and cruel. “Oh, you truly are slow, Lena. Gullible where your brother is brilliant. He had the right idea and the right sentiment against those parasites.”

Horror creeps over Lena as the realization slowly dawns on her. “Lex....” her voice breaks. “.... Lex was the one who poisoned all those people?”

"Finally, you’re catching up.” Lillian smiles, her lips a sharp, curved line, like a scythe slashed across her face. “Why do you think he married that worthless little twit? He needed a bargaining chip. Something he could trade for the materials he needed to make the Kryptonite and wipe out New Argo.”

Lena’s heart stops, and an icy sweat breaks out all over her body. “Kara...?”

“.... Is probably being delivered to Queen Rhea’s hands as we speak.”

Something inside Lena breaks, and she doesn’t remember rushing out of Lillian’s study, or the cruel laugh that trails after her. She doesn’t remember running and almost falling down the stairs in her haste. She doesn’t even remember mounting her horse and racing through the streets of Metropolis.

All she can think of is Kara, in danger because of her. Kara who could die because Lena was a fool and had unwittingly betrayed her. All this time, she’d thought she was protecting Kara, giving hope to the people of New Argo, when really she’d been offering Kara up to Rhea on a silver platter, and leading the Kryptonians by the hand to their deaths.

She’s so numb to everything else around her that she is nearly unseated when the explosion rocks the whole city. The ground beneath her trembles in the resulting blast, and she has to hold on to keep from falling off when her horse rears up in fright. It comes from a few miles east, near the port, where the Luthor Trading Company keeps its ships docked.

KARA!

Lena wastes no time. Once her spooked horse is under control, she turns toward the docks. Her breath comes heavy and she rides as fast as she can, but she’s too late.

There’s too much confusion at the scene -- too much smoke, people running to put out the fires as they spread from the docks to the homes, people fleeing the fires with their children and their possessions.

She can’t find Kara anywhere.

She tries to stay and look for her, but one of the fire wardens sees Lena trying to approach the burning wreckage, and hauls her away, struggling the whole time. She only calms down when she’s told that only one body was pulled out of the wreckage.

"Miss Luthor.... it’s your brother.”

______________

Everything descends into chaos then.

A witness, a dock worker named Ben Lockwood, comes forward, stating that he had seen Lex Luthor in a confrontation with Clark Kent.  According to Lockwood, Kent claimed that Luthor was trying to kill the Kryptonians somehow with the illness that had spread through New Argo. Luthor, in turn, had exposed Kent and his cousin, Luthor’s wife as Kryptonian anarchists trying to incite a rebellion to take over Metropolis and claim it for the Kryptonians. 

Luthor had then produced a device with what he claimed to be an unstable substance inside. Kent had tried to take it from him, and in the ensuing struggle, the device exploded.

It doesn’t matter how factual Lockwood’s statement was. Lex’s body at the site of the explosion is enough to seal her fate.

She returns home to find her mother, and all of the valuables in the house, gone. With Lillian gone, Lex dead, his wife revealed as a Kryptonian and both her and Clark Kent missing, the only one left to shift the blame to is Lena.

The whole city condemns her. Metropolitans blame her for the wreckage her brother inflicted on their home. They point the finger at her and say she must have been involved in it somehow. Even orchestrated it. After all, she is the only one left unscathed.

She inherits the company, and the mess Lex left behind. There’s still the Kryptonite poisoning to contend with, and now that she knows her brother was behind it, she throws herself into the work even more. People are still dying, and if she doesn’t come up with a vaccine soon, even more people will die.

All because Lena was a fool.

On top of it all, the Children of Liberty grows stronger -- now they call themselves Cadmus, and this time, their messages of hate contain a proclamation of vengeance, for the life of Metropolis’ son, Lex Luthor -- whom they have now claimed as their hero.

They blame Lena for this too.

She grits her teeth and bears it all, as she should. She scrambles blindly to keep everything together. The vaccine. The business. The family name.

But even all this is easier to bear than the memory of seeing Kara’s room empty. Of walking up the stairs to the Danvers’ porch and knocking on the doors fruitlessly.  The house is dead and empty, devoid of Kara’s warmth and Alex’s teasing laughter.

Kara is gone, and Lena is completely and utterly alone.

________________

It’s a member of Rhea’s court who saves Kara.

His name is J’onn J’onnz and he reveals himself first to Clark the night of the explosion. He tells him of how he had served as one of Jor-El’s advisors before he was murdered, but Rhea had taken his wife and daughters, and threatened to kill them if he didn’t serve her.

He tells Clark of Rhea’s search for the last remaining members of the House of El, and how it had ended when Lex Luthor had approached her with a deal -- he would deliver Kara Zor-El and Kal-El to her, if she gave him the means to eradicate the Kryptonian population in New Argo.

J’onn also tells him of the growing rebellion in Krypton, of the roiling unrest under Rhea’s regime. J’onn himself has been involved in the emerging movement, at great personal risk. But the movement needs a leader the people can rally behind.

It’s at this point that Clark Kent makes a decision.

He is at a crossroads. He can choose to claim the mantle of the House of El as he was meant to all those years ago. Or he can confront the terrible reality that lies before him now -- that his people here in New Argo are dying, and it is because of the man he had loved and called a friend.

He chooses the latter. And now he lies on a pallet in a dark, cramped room, bleeding half to death as his wife mops his brow and tries to stave off his fever. He has bounty on his head placed there by the Children of Liberty -- or Cadmus, as he hears they’re called now -- for “killing” Lex Luthor, and he’s going to die if he doesn’t get medical help soon.

“I’m sorry,” he gasps as Lois adjusts the bandage she had tied around wound on his stomach. “If it weren’t for me--”

“Don’t be ridiculous, Smallville,” Lois presses a kiss to his brow. “This still beats Sunday dinners with my Father.”

He smiles weakly but the smile turns into a groan of pain as Lois presses on the wound again to keep it from bleeding.

At least Kara is safe with J’onn now.

_______________

Kara braces her hands on the table in front of her. The wood creaks where her hands grip it so forcefully, but she doesn’t hear it.

The messenger who delivered the news from Metropolis quails under her murderous stare, and J’onn dismisses him before he can say anything more. As the messenger scurried out, he lays a calming hand on Kara’s shoulder.

They’ve been travelling together for months, ever since the night she had been secreted away from Metropolis by Alex and J’onn and Eliza. In all that time, the one thing that had kept Kara going forward and preventing her from going back was the fact that with Lillian forced underground and Lex dead, Rhea remained the biggest threat.

He also knows Kara well enough by now to know when she needs a moment. “You need to calm down, Kara. This is a good thing.”

Kara looks up at him, her eyes almost wild. “How is this good, J’onn? How is any of this good? My cousin is missing, possibly dead. And my friend is being condemned for something she didn’t do, and the whole of Metropolis is out for her blood.”

J’onn keeps his voice calm and steady. “You heard what James reported, they’re still searching for Kal-El. Cadmus would want all of New Argo to know if Kal-El was dead. All signs point to him still being alive. As for the Luthors, Luthor Trading Company is failing. We know Rhea was relying on their trading partnership for funds. Without the Luthors, we’ve managed to cut off another significant limb holding up Rhea’s rule..... We have achieved so much in these past months, Kara. We have dismantled structures that have been in place for thirteen years. We have forced Rhea to retreat as her forces become smaller and smaller... I don’t think you realize how much this means to these people fighting with us. To the people of Krypton. We are so close to bringing down Rhea’s regime and restoring Krypton’s freedom. To restoring your throne. You cannot give up now.”

Kara looks away, and for the first time, she doesn’t accept his comfort. She shrugs her shoulder out of his head. “I need some air.”

J’onn opens his mouth to say something, but Alex steps forward and shakes her head. “I’ll talk to her.”

Kara isn’t outside the tent, but Alex finds her sitting in front of a dying fire near the edge of their camp. She’s poking viciously at the fizzling embers, a dark expression on her face.

Alex almost hesitates. She’s never seen Kara like this, not in all the years they’ve been sisters. “Wanna tell me what’s going on in your head?”

Kara exhales, long and slow. When she speaks, her voice breaks. “I want to go back, Alex. I need to go back. I know we’re doing the right thing here, but.... Clark... He could be dying, Alex. And a part of me is so angry at him right now, because he’s the reason why I’m here, because he chose to stay in Metropolis. And no one else would take up the crest of the House of El. He abandoned it a long time ago, and I was the only -- the only one left. And if he dies... if he dies, I truly will be the only El left.”

Alex doesn’t say anything, because she knows this has been building inside Kara for a long time.

“And Lena.” Kara’s eyes are shiny with tears now, reflecting the firelight. “She’s all alone, Alex. Everyone is turning against her, and she has no one. Lex betrayed her, and I left her. And I know you think she helped Lex, I can see it in your face every time I bring her up. But I know her, Alex. I know she would never hurt anyone, let alone create the Kryptonite that killed so many people. She would never, Alex.”

Kara’s voice breaks into a sob, and she pulls her knees up to her chest. “I never even got to say goodbye. To either of them.”

Alex scoots closer to her sister, tentatively putting one arm around her. Kara doesn’t brush her off like she did J’onn, but she doesn’t relax either. "You didn't think that Lex would do what he did either, Kara. None of us did, and yet here we are..... The truth is, Lena is a Luthor. And I think we've learned now that Luthors cannot be trusted. I know you care about Lena, but your life is in danger as well, and your people are in danger. If you go back, and the Luthors don't attack you, there's still Rhea to contend with. And she's not above hurting people just to get to you. We can't go back."

Under her arm, Kara sighs deeply, and a few tears slip from the corners of her eyes. She sniffs and gently disengages from Alex’s arm. “You’re right. I-I should probably get some sleep. I’ll see you tomorrow, Alex.”

Without waiting for a reply, Kara trudges off to her tent, leaving Alex to stare after her with a heavy heart.

________________

In the middle of the night, a knock sounds on the door of the Olsens’ house in New Argo. After a few seconds of silence, the knocking resumes, and James drags himself out of bed to answer, unwilling to let the knocking wake his sleeping mother, and knowing it would take a canon to wake Kelly in the middle of the night.

He peers through the hole in the door to see who this midnight caller is, and when he sees, he almost doesn’t open the door.

The knocking resumes, more urgently this time, and James sighs. He opens the door to find himself face-to-face with Lena Luthor.

“What are you doing here?” James knows his voice is hostile, but he doesn’t care.

If Lena is at all intimidated by his hostility, she doesn’t show it. “I need your help. Yours and Kelly’s.”

James scoffs, shaking his head with a humorless laugh. “You Luthors really are something. You think I would ever help you, after what your brother did?”

He moves to close the door, but Lena blocks him with her arm. “Wait! Please! I found him! I found Clark!”

That stops him for a moment. “What?”

“I found Clark.” Lena repeats breathlessly. “He’s in a cellar in an abandoned house near the docks. Lois is with him. He’s badly hurt--”

“And why should I trust you?”

Lena fixes him with a level look, her green eyes clear. “I know you don’t trust me, James, and I understand. Truly, I do. If I were in your position, I would feel the same way. But Clark needs help. If we don’t help him, he will die.”

James stares at her for a long moment, trying to see the lie in her eyes, and she meets his gaze head-on, without any trace of artifice. Then he sighs. He might end up regretting this later, but if there’s even the slightest chance he could save Clark, he’ll take it.

He opens the door wide enough for Lena to walk through. “Tell me what I need to do.”

_________________

When Kara Zor-El finally sets foot in the palace of Krypton -- the place of her birth, her old home -- after thirteen years of being gone, it's as if she never left. The exact scene lifted out of her nightmares -- people screaming and fleeing, the West Tower burning -- plays out in front of her numb eyes as if Fate is glories in letting her relive it again.

This time, she walks through the great doors, no longer the fleeing young girl, being carried kicking and screaming from her home. This time, she’s come to take it back.

She encounters very little resistance. Servants scurry past her to flee or plead for mercy. Rhea’s soldiers lay down arms in surrender at the sight of them.

Kara knows where she’ll find Rhea. She walks slowly through the Great Hall, up the steps she’d run down as a child. The last time she had been here, her uncle’s blood had marked the steps, and her father had stood between her and death.

She enters the throne room, knowing she’ll find Rhea there.

What she doesn’t expect to see are the three bodies lying at the feet of the throne. Two dead, one dying.

Kara drops her sword and rushes to Rhea’s side immediately. Her husband and son lie lifeless beside her, but Rhea continues to choke on life. Kara spies the small vial of what she recognizes as Kryptonite tipped over on the seat of the throne.

She orders the others to check on Rhea’s husband and son, but she knows it’s useless. Rhea she lifts as blood drips from her mouth. This woman killed her parents and has plagued her life for so many years, has given her nightmares nearly every night -- and yet now that she sees the husk of a woman choking on her own blood and bile, her eyes wide and gaping, it feels cruel to let her die like this.

Rhea's eyes bulge at her, demonic even to her last breath. "I will take my family to hell before I let you have them."

Kara draws her sword to end her suffering, but Rhea wrenches away, refusing mercy. There is nothing clean or dignified about her death, she retches and claws at her throat as her body attempts to fight off the poison to no avail. And all Kara can think of is how this woman sentenced all those people in New Argo to die in this way.

When it is done, she orders the bodies to be disposed of in a secret plot, with no markers or memorials. If she could erase every single trace of their existence on Krypton, she would.

She should be satisfied. 

She should feel some sort of release now that the woman who had killed her family is dead. 

But she doesn’t. Instead Kara just feels tired. And empty.

Maybe it is true, what she told Lena when they first met. She’ll never be satisfied.

_______________

James hesitates at the doorway to Lena’s sitting room. “Listen, Lena... Perhaps you should... stay home for today.”

Lena looks up at his concerned face. It’s a far cry from the look of judgment and mistrust with which he had greeted her when she first asked him for help.

“Clark and I can help Kelly administer the vaccines. You don’t need to put yourself through that again.”

‘That’ had been the persistent rejection of the people of New Argo whenever Lena came and attempted to administer the vaccine.

It’s been a month since she had finally completed it. James hadn’t trusted her at first, had kept looking over her shoulder whenever she worked. Or followed her whenever she brought down supplies to the basement of Luthor Manor where she had made accommodations for Clark and Lois. Eventually, however, his distrust lessened -- Lena suspects Clark or Lois or Kelly or even Winn had talked to him -- and Lena considered it a small personal victory when he had allowed her to inoculate him.

The other people of New Argo, however, are not as easy to convince.

Every time Lena arrives to administer the inoculations, doors and shutters close in her face. Everyone is too afraid of her, of what the Luthor might do to them. They don’t trust her, or her cure.

She’s seen Clark talk to the citizens about this, but Lena knows it’s pointless. The damage was too great. The kind of fear and hatred Lex left behind takes a long time to be erased. It might never heal completely, just like Clark’s own scars.

“You’re right, James.” Lena smiles, handing over the box of vaccines to him. “Thank you. My presence hinders the operation more than it helps. This should be about helping people, not about me. You, Kelly and Clark can do it.”

“Just you and Kelly today, I think, my friend.”

Both James and Lena turn to see Clark limping toward them. Lois walks beside him, ready to help if needed. “I’d like to talk to Lena, if you’re done.”

James nods at Clark, then tips his head at Lena, before leaving silently, taking the box with him.

Clark seats himself slowly at the chair beside the fireplace and Lois, bless her, pretends to busy herself somewhere else. Lena takes a seat opposite him, waiting.

“I’ve been thinking, Lena. There are still Kryptonians in Krypton who are vulnerable to Kryptonite. Someone needs to bring the vaccines to them, to ensure that no one else suffers from this disease.”

Lena immediately picks up on his train of thought. “And you want me to do it?”

“I need to stay behind to protect New Argo from Cadmus. Kelly, I suspect, will want to go, but she’s agreed to stay behind at least until we finish the inoculations here. James could go with you, to accompany you on your journey as well as witness to the events here. And I know Winn wants to go as well. You wouldn’t be alone.”

Lena hesitates, biting her lip. Metropolis is all she's ever known. And even though Kara has told her so much about it, Krypton is still a foreign place that seems as distant as a dream.

“I... I truly don’t know, Clark. Kryptonians hate me right now, because of what Lex did. And my family’s company is on its last legs. And there’s still so much to be done...” Lena's words trail off when she sees Clark smiling gently at her. 

"You are not Lex, Lena.” Clark reaches over and places his hand gently on top of hers. The gesture reminds her so much of Kara. She’d been doing an admirable job of not thinking about Kara the past month. Once she’d found out that Kara was alive and unharmed, she had deliberately stopped herself from thinking about her.

It hurt too much.

“You have so much good in you, Lena. So much love in your heart..... Why do you stay and keep your heart here, for a family that betrayed you so cruelly, for a legacy that's been tainted and holds nothing but poison for you -- when we both know that heart belongs to someone else in Krypton? To the woman who has only ever held love for you in hers?"

Lena looks up at him, eyes wide, and Clark chuckles. “You talk in your sleep. I hear you sometimes when you fall asleep at your desk. And always, it’s Kara’s name you say.”

Lena worries her lower lip with her teeth again, looking away. “What if she doesn’t want to see me?”

“Oh, Lena. If I know Kara, I don’t think that would ever be the case.”  Clark pulls her into an embrace that reminds her so much of Lex, of the brother she had before this madness, and Lena chokes out a sob. Clark strokes her hair gently.

"I will stay. Krypton has Kara, but the people of New Argo need me. Cadmus is still a threat, and there is a family business that needs to be run here, am I correct?"

Lena looks up at him, surprised. "You mean --"

Clark grins at her. "Well, we’d have to do something about your mother trying to kill me first. And I've never tried running a company, so I might do a far worse job than you did. But I have Ma and Pa, and Lois. I don't think the trading business is ready for Lois, but I think it'll have to be. She won't give it a choice....You don't mind if I change it to El Trading Company, do you?"

Lena laughs. "I wouldn't mind setting Lois loose on those pompous bastards. Morgan Edge won't know what hit him."

She embraces Clark warmly. "Thank you, Clark."

Clark smiles into her hair. "No need for thanks between family, Lena."

He waves her off at the docks, Lois, Kelly and the Kents beside him. Lena stands on the deck of the ship to Krypton, clutching the red cape that Clark had given her to wear. 

He had told Lena that it would keep her safe. Now that the House of El was once again securely on the throne, no Kryptonian would dare attack anyone who wore the El crest on their person.

The sea voyage is enjoyable enough for Lena. Though she pities poor Winn who got seasick on the first day and never gained his sea legs until the last day and had to spend most of the trip in his bunk.

She spends most of her time on the deck, feeling the salty breeze against her skin. James often accompanies her. Now that he no longer distrusts her, she has observed a significant difference in his attitude towards her.

He is kinder, gentler, more thoughtful around her. He makes for quite fun company, to be honest, and he makes her laugh when she’s in a pensive mood.

Lena is not blind to his attentions, his courting. She allows him, because he’s a good man and, quite honestly, it's nice to have someone who wants her, after so long being hated. 

But at the same time, it makes her feel guilty, because she knows her heart belongs only to one person.

But that person is Queen of Krypton now, and if she was too good for Lena when she was still Linda Lee Danvers, she's leagues beyond Lena now. 

What does Lena have that she can offer Kara now? No prestige, no money, no protection, just the tatters of a name that she was once proud of that now only leaves a bad taste in her mouth.

And even if Lena does something to offer Kara, there's nothing to tell Lena that she views Lena as anything more than a once-sister or a former friend whose brother betrayed Kara in the cruelest way possible. And hadn’t she betrayed Kara as well, by pushing her towards Lex? Her own selfishness, her desire to have Kara in her life, had blinded her to Lex’s machinations, and she had delivered Kara to him without a fight.

And even if, by some miracle, Kara doesn't hate her -- if Fate smiles down on Lena for once in her miserable life -- and Kara still holds some measure of love for Lena in her heart, that love would never be the same as the way Lena loves her. Not in the way that the mere memory of Kara's smile fills Lena's heart with unbridled joy. Or the way each small touch of Kara's hand on hers had made her whole body burn and her heart skip a beat.

So Lena tempers her battered yet relentlessly hopeful heart, douses it with pragmatic reasoning, and determinedly turns toward James with a hopeful smile, as if she can teach herself to love him and not Kara.

Kara was wrong. Lena can be satisfied. She is.

She repeats the words in her head every night and wills herself to think of James’ hands holding hers, instead of Kara’s. She is satisfied.

____________

The ship docks at Dendahu in Krypton and immediately word spreads of the woman who wears the El sigil, who claims she bears the cure for the poison their brothers and sisters on New Argo have died from.

Kara thinks -- she dares to hope that it might be Lena. That her friend whom she loves so much doesn't hate her like her "husband" did. That she's come for Kara.

She almost races to the docks -- a full day's trip from the capital on the fastest horse. But Alex stops her. Caution, Alex warns. They still don't actually know how involved Lena was with the Children of Liberty, or how much she actually supported Lex.

"Think with your head, not with your heart." Alex tells her, and Kara knows she's just being cautious and protective, but she wants to shake her and tell her, that she knows Lena, and she knows that Lena would never want to hurt anyone, that Lena would never do anything so vile.

They arrive at the capital two days later, and Kara nearly runs out to meet them. They're surrounded by palace attendants and a small crowd. She sees Winn first, looking curiously around at the courtyard. James is at the bottom of the gigantic steps, helping a cloaked feminine figure off her horse.

Her back is turned, and Kara can see she is wearing the sigil of the House of El on her back, her dark hair spilling over it. Kara's breath gets stuck in her throat, and she expels it all in one breathless sigh. "Lena...."

The figure turns to her once she's dismounted, and Kara can see tears in green eyes that mirror the ones pooling in Kara's own, obscuring her vision.

All dignity lost and forgotten, Kara stumbles down the stairs, her hands reaching out for her friend. She can vaguely see Lena thrust the ornate box in her hands into Winn’s, and her own arms open to receive Kara.

“Lena... Lena...” Kara falls into Lena's arms, clinging to her friend as if her life depends on it. She can hear herself sobbing Lena's name over and over, and she knows people are watching them, but she can't stop herself.

She buries her face in Lena's neck and inhales her friend's familiar heady scent as she sobs. She doesn't even know why her emotions feel so out of control, she just knows she wants to keep Lena in her arms after so long without her. 

She clings to Lena the way she used to cling to Kal, when she had lost everything she held dear, and in some ways it feels like she had, and it’s now been restored to her. 

It’s as if the emptiness she’d been feeling since Rhea’s death has been replaced by the fullness of Lena’s presence. Kara feels whole again.

And Lena seems just as keen to hold her. She whispers "Oh, Kara..." into her hair and strokes her back, calling her darling and all these sweet names, and Kara just cries.

Eventually, Winn snickers and James clears his throat, reminding them that they must part, and Kara does so unwillingly, brushing back a lock of hair behind Lena's ear with a watery laugh.  

She accepts the vaccine for the Kryptonite and extends and invitation for Lena and the boys to stay at the palace. James delivers his report, and testifies to Lena's kindness and everything she's done, not only to cure the Kryptonite, but also to save Kal-El. Winn seconds it enthusiastically, though he’s not

Kara beams at her friend and threads their fingers together just like they used to. ”I never doubted it.”

Lena smiles back sweetly, squeezing her fingers.

As the days pass, however, Kara notices a change. James is more solicitous and thoughtful around Lena, always inquiring about her, holding doors open for her, offering to help her out of carriages, eager to keep her company on walks.

It should make Kara happy that two of her closest friends are becoming closer and closer. James is a good man, and Lena deserves all the happiness she can find in the world. 

But all she feels is a heaviness in her chest, like a lump under her breastbone, whenever she sees James smiling at Lena, or whenever she looks for Lena to keep her company on her daily walk and she finds out from one of the servants that Lena has been accompanied by James. The effervescent sense of happiness she’d felt with Lena’s arrival dims, and she feels guilty for it. She should be happy for them.

But she can't help but feel jealous when she finds out that James has taken it upon himself to show Lena around the capital. It's childish and immature, Kara knows it, but she was the one who had told Lena of these special places in Krypton back when they were still talking in contented silence in Lena's sitting room in Luthor Manor.

It was Kara who had shared these places and her memories of them to Lena, and she wanted to be the one to share these places with her in the flesh. Instead, it's James who brings Lena to the gardens of Kandor, to Kara's favorite river.

She sulks in the palace, until Lena returns home, flushed and bright-eyed, on James's arm, hanging onto his every word. All the while, the jealousy inside Kara simmers and hulks like a hurt creature until she can’t take it anymore.

She very politely and tentatively summons Lena to her private sitting room in the palace. They haven't seen each other much at all since Lena came to Krypton -- not nearly enough for Kara -- and she desperately misses the talks they used to have by the fire when they were still in Metropolis.

But so much has changed since then, and she hesitates.

She awkwardly asks Lena if she's enjoying Krypton, and Lena smiles and nods "Everyone has been good to me here, and I am so thankful. To you, most of all. Your kindness and warm welcome has turned the favor of Kryptonians toward me, and I -- I'm just grateful you still consider me a friend. Even after everything that Lex did."

Kara reaches out for her with wide eyes. "Of course I still consider you a friend! Lena..... I never, for a second, thought that you had anything to do with Lex's betrayal. You are far, far too good for that. And he... he betrayed you too. He betrayed us all, but he was your brother and you loved him."

“ But I introduced the two of you. I encouraged the two of you -- and he was your husband. I toasted your union, and the whole time--"

"It wasn't about Lex," Kara cuts in, her gaze dropping away from Lena's. Her hands open and close spasmodically at her sides, and the familiar nervous little habit almost makes Lena smile. "It wasn't him that I--"

Her voice trails off, and a charged silence grows between them. After a moment, Kara seems to steel herself. "I have something for you."

She reaches up to the back of her neck and unclasps the necklace Alura gave her all those years ago, that final night when Kara was forced to flee the palace.

The pendant with the sigil of the House of El glints slightly in the firelight.

"This was my Mother's. She gave it to me the night she died. It was given to her by my Father years ago on their Bonding Ceremony. Do you remember what that is?"

"Yes, of course. You told me that was a Kryptonian wedding. A sacred union." 

Kara nods, swallowing thickly. "Yes. I-I want you to have it."

Lena's mouth drops and she seems to stop breathing. When she collects herself. "Oh, Kara... I-I couldn't take something so precious away from you."

Kara shakes her head. "I'm giving it to you. You saved us, Lena. You made the cure for Kryptonite. You risked everything to bring it here."

"I had to. I betrayed you. My brother --"

"Is not you. You didn’t betray me. He betrayed you. He betrayed all of us. You suffered the most for it, but you still righted his wrongs."

"It's what any decent person would have done."

Kara shakes her head, smiling softly at Lena, her azure eyes brilliant in the firelight. "You truly don't see how amazing you are, do you? I wish you could see yourself as I see you. You.... you are everything, Lena."

Lena's breath hitches, and she seems unable to speak. Kara holds up Alura's necklace in offering, her hands trembling ever so slightly. "Will you accept this?"

Lena nods mutely, seemingly overcome. Kara moves closer, holding the thin silver chain up, and motions for her to turn around. Lena does, and Kara feels how still she is, like the surface of a lake, one moment away from rippling.

Lena moves her hair away from her neck, exposing the tender, vulnerable curve of her nape, and Kara is overcome with the desire, no the need, to touch the smooth skin revealed to her.

Kara clasps the necklace with trembling fingers and moves closer still, her eyes moving downward to where the El sigil rests just underneath Lena's collarbones. Lena is motionless. She doesn't even seem to breathe when Kara's fingers find the small crest where it rests just above Lena's breast. 

Of their own accord, Kara's fingers follow the chain upward, skimming ever so softly over Lena's skin. She doesn't realize how close she is until she feels Lena's soft breath against her cheek, shallow and tentative, as if she's unwilling to even breathe with Kara this close.

Kara starts to pull away, afraid that she's overstepped, but Lena exhales, her breath warming Kara's lips. “Please.”

Kara's mouth parts, and she is rendered helpless. She presses their lips together, softly at first. Warmth suffuses her whole body with that one small action, as if her whole being is rejoicing at the contact. 

It feels so.... right. 

 As if coming home at the end of their long journey.

Kara presses forward, her fingers finding Lena's jaw and tilting her closer. Lena complies, her neck arching to find Kara, to press deeper. Kara urges her lips to part, and Lena accepts her with a small moan that sets her nerves on fire.

She was right. She will never be satisfied. 

Not now that she knows the taste of Lena. 

"Stay with me," Kara murmurs the words into the heated air between them. She can feel her lips trembling. She can’t bear it. "Please?"

Lena's eyes open, and in the brilliant jade-green of them, Kara can see her whole future. "Always."

________________

By SorrowsFlower

FUCKING HELL I FINALLY FINISHED THIS!!! I have not slept in 36 hours for this shit!!!

What made decide to write it into a long-ass fic instead of the AU format I had it in, I will never know. If you made it this far, I love you.

[johnkrrasinski]

𝐄𝐱𝐢𝐥𝐞

Chapter 2: Those Eyes Add Insult to Injury

full masterlist // series masterlist // commission open // support my work

Pairings: Dark!Steve Rogers (in future chapters) x Reader

Word Count: 2,554

Summary: Steve Rogers; a Hollywood A-lister and your clandestine occasional hookup. Best friends since childhood, but people change and friendships fall out. Now you were merely strangers with benefits. What happens when one day you stopped being his doormat to be a better man’s queen? The selfish Steve Rogers would not like it. How far is he willing to go to get his favorite possession back?

Warnings: smut, non-con/dub-con, dark Steve (in later chapter), angst, Steve Rogers is an asshole in this one, no redeeming qualities. (MUST BE 18+)

A/N: this series is dedicated to the lovely @belovedcherry​​ who commissioned this story and developed the concept. thank you for being a friend when i truly needed it. i’m really glad that you trusted me to write this story for you. with all my heart, i sincerely hope you like it. this series will be updated everyday, there will be 4 more chapters ahead.

Several years had passed since you graduated. You and Wanda remained close despite the bustle of life would get in the way sometimes. She got accepted in Yale University and she chose to study Psychology. Maybe that’s why she and you got along so well. You both were humanitarians at hearts.

College was a lot more fun than high school but that also meant the bigger pressure would come along in one package. Nothing that you didn’t expect. You went into social study major to groom yourself for the future you had set for yourself. Life went along as methodically as you originally designed.

But fate was a comical thing sometimes. When it has settled its decision to place two people who have such a rich history in their past together, it would be inevitable and inescapable one way or another.

The past couple of years of high school, you and Steve were practically strangers who went to the same school. He never greeted or talked to you anymore in class and he abandoned every ritual you had in the good old days. He stopped calling or texting, he stopped answering and he stopped coming over.

He just… stopped knowing you.

There wasn’t a day that passed by without you pondering about where did it all go wrong? How did the fair-headed friendship that bloomed like the flowers in spring slip away as briskly as a bottle of wine? A million questions rushed through your nostalgic head and as the season changed, the gap between you and Steve kept extending wider and wider.

You didn’t even know whether he really went to college or not. Or perhaps, he decided to go straight into auditions and found himself a good agent who was willing to manage his career. You still remember when he was so eager to do whatever it takes to study in NYU but you assumed that things had changed since then. He was a different person, after all, maybe he had new plans to pursue his dreams. But of course, life deprecated its surprises being spoiled.

Who would’ve warned you that you would get accepted to New York University as well as Steve?

You didn’t know until you ran into him at a sorority party that you were reluctant to go at first because you were never that much of a party gal, but your roommate, Natasha coerced you to.

Natasha was a kind person but she could also be a little bold than you were used to. You were grateful that she was your roommate though, you were a little worried that you might have to live with someone who was mean or untidy, everything that Natasha was not. You could imagine the relief when you learned how organized and sensible Natasha was. You had a feeling that the friendship you and Natasha had was going to last a lifetime.

“My sweet girl, y/n, I love you but you really gotta put yourself out there, okay? Forget that motherfucker Steve Rogers. He ain’t shit. If you go to the party with me, you might actually find yourself a decent guy who’s a lot cuter than him and who will treat you right. Because if he doesn’t then I’m gonna kick his ass and he will think twice before cheating on you.”

“I’m not looking for a boyfriend, Nat. Besides, I don’t care about Steve anymore,” you lied. “It’s not even about him, I’m just simply not much of a partier.”

“Bullshit. You are now. Let’s go. I won’t hear any more excuses.”

So you had no other choice but to put on a simple dress and went to the party with Nat. There was no saying no to her when she had made up her mind. Plus, you thought it would be a good idea to familiarize yourself with the vicinity and your potential classmates.

You also wrote a new resolution in your invisible diary that you were going to expand your connection in college and socialize more. You were only really friends with Wanda back in high school. You also shared a few classes with Pete Parker who was nice and smart, despite being a little gauche sometimes and you would often talk to him but that was it.

You also lost your childhood best friend who knew you better than anyone else before Wanda did. It truly deteriorated your trust issues and that’s why it was difficult for you to insert yourself in social situations and just effortlessly talk with any stranger.

You stood in the corner with a red plastic cup in your hand that was still almost full of beer. You didn’t drink either so you had no idea why you even bothered holding it. Maybe it gave you a sense of comfort that you wouldn’t be totally alone in this party.

Natasha had asked you to dance but you knew you’d look like an untrained clown at a circus, so you refused to join her. Natasha was currently lost in the music, dancing with a guy named Clint. You had no idea who the hell he was but he seemed nice, and you knew that if Clint had bad intentions with Natasha, he wouldn’t stand a chance and you wouldn’t let him so you assigned yourself the job to watch over Natasha and bring her home safely in case she chugs down a little too much alcohol.

Your eyes wandered around the room, trying to recognize and learn some faces. It felt like you were the only lonely person in the room as the exuberant music faded into the background. Everything felt slow and steady until the person who just walked through the door made your heart stop.

It was Steve. Steve Rogers.

The person you had incessantly wondered about. You hadn’t seen him in over a year even during the gap between graduating and starting your freshman year in college. You were too occupied in moving out, spending as many time as possible with Wanda and your family and filling out college requirements. Steve would emerge in your mind every once in a while but you tried to erase him away as quickly as possible when it happens because you didn’t want to waste your time missing a ghost and someone who probably never spared a second of his life thinking about you too when you are surrounded with your loved ones for the last time.

You didn’t know when you were going to be able to see Wanda again. She was going to New Haven and that means, it would take at least at two hours drive to visit her so you cherished the last moments that you had with her. She was like a sister to you. You still talked to Wanda nearly every day through texts but you also didn’t want to intrude her study too much. Besides, you had your own duties too as a college student now.

So why did it feel like your lungs stopped functioning when you saw his gorgeous face and those familiar pair of cerulean blue eyes? He had a grin on his face as he walked in with five other college boys. You didn’t know who they were but you assumed they were his new group of nitwit friends. Steve was wearing a brown leather jacket with a black shirt underneath.

He walked to where the kegs were with the boys trailing him along like they were his security team. They joked with each other boisterously as if they owned the place. Typical. Nothing you hadn’t seen in high school. But you couldn’t avert your sights from Steve. You were too riveted by the fact that Steve was here, at a sorority party of NYU.

It couldn’t really be him, right? I mean, is this serious? You two really attended the same university? This must be a joke.

Your thoughts were quickly interrupted when Nat pat your shoulder with her energy still blazing from the dance floor. “Whew, that was fun but I need some drink now.”

You didn’t respond as your lips were still agape, not knowing what you were supposed to say to her.

“Y/N? You alright? You look like you saw a ghost.” 

“He’s here.”

“What? Who?”

“Steve Rogers. The guy that I told you about.”

“Where?!”

You pointed in his direction where he was surrounded by a bunch of pretty girls in skimpy dresses now. One of them was groping his bicep shamelessly and Steve had his arm around her waist. She threw her head back as she laughed cheerfully at something he just said.

“You gotta talk to him! Have some closure.”

“What? What the hell am I supposed to say to him?”

“Tell him that you and him are through and maybe, throw a drink at him afterwards. That scumbag deserves it.”

“Nat, no! Are you insane? I don’t wanna cause a scene.”

“But you can’t just let him get away with whatever he wants, y/n!”

“No, let’s just go home and forget it, okay?”

“Alright, if you’re not gonna talk to him, then I will.”

“No, Nat! Stop! What are you doing?! ” But she was already approaching him with ardent footsteps and fire in her guts as she brazenly inserted herself into the middle of the scene.

“Excuse me,” she sarcastically greeted the group. “Yeah, hi, I just need a minute. Are you Steve Rogers?”

You followed behind her but you stood just a few feet away from the incident so that Steve wouldn’t see you. But you could see from over Nat’s shoulder that Steve had a perplexed look on his face. His eyebrows were furrowed and all the girls around him were staring at Nat like she was a crazy person who just randomly popped up uninvited.

“…yeah.” He answered.

“Oh, so you’re the asshole that my roommate has been talking about. Man, she really didn’t lie.”

“Excuse me?” The puzzled look on his face turned into an offended one.

“Yeah, my roommate y/n. Does that ring a bell?”

He was aghasted at the mention of your name. Before he was given a chance to answer, Natasha filled his silence with more of her venomous words. “You really have the audacity to show your face here, huh? I swear to you, the next time I see your irritable face again, I will make you regret for ever breathing in my direction, but for now, I think this will do.” She threw the beer in her cup onto his face, humiliating him in front of everyone who was entertained by the drama.

Steve wiped his face with his hand and he was too stupefied by the information that had just been dumped on him like a cold water. Well, it wasn’t entirely figurative though.

Before Natasha walked away, she sneered with a sly smirk on her face, “enjoy your party.” She shoved the empty cup to one of the girl’s chest as she reflexively caught it, with a flummoxed expression, her eyes didn’t stray from Natasha.

She walked away vauntingly from the flock towards you, “let’s go, y/n.” as she kept walking towards the entrance. You were still frozen in your spot as she was already going for the door. But before you could follow her, your eyes landed on Steve’s doused face as his eyes were already fixated on you.

For a moment there, there were only you and Steve and the intimacy of unspoken farewells and muted longing that were encapsulated in one bubble of silence that comes when two people understand each other. It was like the drawer of Steve’s things that he left with the memories and he never asked you to return came hurdling back like ocean waves and everything just evaporated in the ticking time.

There was no need for words because your eyes delivered more than both of your lips had in the past couple of years.

“Y/N?” He uttered your name. That was perhaps the first time he had called you in years. And with that, it was like every broken piece you had intensively woven back together ruptured and there was no safety net that would prepare you for this fallout.  

He was bewildered by seeing you here and you had no clue what you were supposed to say. So you threw him a poignant smile, forcing yourself to put on an impassive facade in front of him. You were good at that, you had years of practice from all those times you found Steve making out with Janet in the parking lot. You wonder if they were still together?

You wordlessly walked away and joined Natasha to the front porch. Steve watched you turn your back on him, not knowing whether he should call your name again, follow you or he should just let you go. You on your way back home were filled with so many thoughts. You couldn't help but wonder, what would’ve happened if you had stayed and talked to him at the party? What would he say to you? Would he even care at all?

But on the other hand, you were relieved. It’s like, you truly got the closure Natasha said you deserved. Never in a million years, you would ever dream about standing up to Steve like that. Hell, you weren’t even brave enough to tell him how you feel back when you were younger. But may God bless Natasha and her parents for creating her, she defended you in a way that you could never do. And she showed you that maybe, it’s time you hold on to your promise that you vowed to yourself, that you were finally going to move on and bury him into your memory dump.

You were in college now. You had no time to wallow in sadness and heartbreak caused by a douche like Steve Rogers. So you made peace with the fact that it was probably the last time you were ever going to see him. You might run into him around college but you weren’t going to let it shake your ground. You unlocked the door of your dorm with a contented smile on your face as you sat on your bed.

Natasha instantly went for the small closet to change into her pyjamas but was briefly delayed by your mumble. “Thank you.”

“Pardon?” Natasha turned her head into your direction.

“Thank you. For doing that… At the party.” You smiled at her. You sincerely meant every word.

“I’d never let a man walk over a good woman like you, y/n.”

You nodded as she carried on with what she was doing. She went into the bathroom to wash herself off and you laid in your bed, feeling lighter than you had ever felt in years. Maybe she was right. It was time you realize your worth. You spent too many years doubting yourself just because Steve was too much of a reprobate to cherish you.

You closed your eyes, relishing in the comfort of your bed without fearing a ghost looming in your sweet dreams anymore now.

Letting tomorrow surprise you with whatever it has in store. Sometimes it involves a charming devil standing on the other side of your door with flowers in his hands and a wicked scheme to accomplish.

[soranihimawari]

Choosing You

Bokuto Koutaro is about to make a mistake by marrying someone who made him choose between a childhood friend and her. Luckily for him, he realizes who he wants to be with days before the ceremony.

Rating: pg-13 for themes taken from a rom-com viewpoint.

Word Count: tba

Anything to note?: this was a fun prompt I saw on a generator.

“I choose her.”

These three words were the ones that changed your life the night of a dress rehearsal for a wedding you were trying to avoid attending. You weren’t sure if the bride had even wanted you present since you and the groom were close since childhood. The argument about whether or not you should be there to witness this momentous occasion had been going on since the last couple of months leading up to the wedding. Envelopes were sent, catering packages were ordered, and even the reception hall had been booked.

The rehearsal dinner was to take place three days before the big day. You, at the request of the best man, had been added as a surprise plus one a few weeks prior. No one else in the bridal party knew you were going to attend and although the groom truly wanted you to be there, he realized you had pushed away any and all invitations dealing with the nuptials. Nonetheless, here you were in a modest three-quarter sleeved dress standing at the open bar, listening to speech after speech congratulating the picture-perfect couple.

What you didn’t know though was the behind the scenes bickering between the fiancés when it came to seeing you at the place. You swished your alcohol in the glass before taking a few more sips. The dinner was about to be served and you were sure you’d be able to get through it. After all, it’s been several years since you’ve seen your childhood friend from Tokyo be this happy. You reminisce about the day your phone rang with the name ‘Bokkun’ lighting up your screen; you listen to him rant and go on about this young lady he saw at the park where he jogs right before the MSBY morning practice. You were at home on your day off when you offered some advice although you find the resolve within yourself to tell him to pursue dating her. That morning was almost six years ago and it was the beginning of the distance you two would soon create.

Honestly, you didn’t think you’d get an invitation, but when you did, you knew you had lost. You don’t send the RSVP card back to the original senders. Thankfully,several nights ago, if the best man hadn’t called you, you were sure you’d have sent a congratulatory message to the groom in your own time. Also, huge brownie points to the same best man who added you his plus one the second he found out you threw away the invite.

“You did what?!” Akaashi practically yells into the receiver of his landline. He ran his hand exasperatedly through his hair.

“I had to throw it away. I couldn’t be reminded every day that Kou chose that demon for a bride,” you spat back. You and the bride were as opposite as night and day; you were always there in the past to cheer up the boisterous fellow and even on their worst fights, you made him go back to her and apologize. She confides in your dear friend she feels threatened by you because of the closeness you shared, so when Bokuto starts to avoid hanging out with you deliberately, you let it happen.

“Listen, the ceremony’s in a few months, I’ll talk to Bokuto-San and tell him I’m bringing a plus one: you. So you better be ready,” Akaashi says before hanging up without giving you time to reply.

Currently, you were just about to get another refill on your drink when you heard the groom gather the attention of the conjoined family and friends group. You knew the young man was either about to make a fool of himself or at the very least, make a heart-warming speech about how he couldn’t wait to spend literal eternity on earth with his fiancée. What you didn’t expect was a declaration of love aimed toward you.

The ringing chime of glassware calls everyone to draw their conversations to a close while one brave man decided to declare something a majority of the groomsmen knew about. The scowl on the bride’s face should have been a great hint, however you were on the third gin and tonic that night, so this was going to hit you differently.

“There is going to be no wedding. At least not between my new ex and I,” your friend begins. You nearly choke on your drink while there are audible gasps coming from the crowd. The groomsmen on his side seemed somewhat relieved their friend had finally seen the light. The bartender asked if you were ok, you agree. You place the glass back on the small bar table behind you, your ears listening to the various reasons why your friend is calling off the wedding. All of them were mainly shortcomings of the bride, but the main reason why was a startling one (at least to you when you thought your feelings were one-sided).

“…The main reason why is because she made me choose between her and my favorite first-first love,” he affectionately says. He seemed kind of embarrassed that it took him literal years for him to figure this one out on his own, but nonetheless, he seemed pretty fearless by this confession. Those golden amber eyes of his hyper fixated on you like you were the only being he ever needed.

“I choose her,” he concludes, raising an empty champagne flute toward the sky. “A thousand times over.”

Your cheeks are warm with a mixture of embarrassment and joy; you feel like you’re floating, but before you do, you head out of the side door of the banquet hall. This act of confession was by far the most extra thing you could think Bokuto could have done, so your feet guide you outside to the city streets where you walk aimlessly with a smile on your face. Your heels clack on the concrete until you hear hurried footsteps behind you. Your dress swishes as you command your feet to stop moving. Both of you stop moving, yet you are at arms’ length away before either of you speak.

“You’re insane,” your voice shakes with nerves. “H-how’re you going to explain that stunt you just pulled?”

Bokuto stands in front of you with the brightest reassuring smile he could muster, his cheeks a bit flushed from the short sprint he did to catch up to you.

“Easy,” he begins. “I don’t love her; I love you. ‘M sorry took me forever to figure that out.”

You fold your arms over your chest before you invade his personal space and you let him have a piece of your mind. You recall the many times you have proved you loved him and the several times you tried to push down your emotions including the one time Akaashi found out your once one sided love for his friend.

“You did all that and I was too absorbed in trying to continue to be the best version of myself that I left you alone,” Bokuto says, gently gripping your shoulders. “I promise I won’t do that ever again.”

“You better not, Kou,” you truthfully state. A sigh escapes your lips as you ask him what his plans are now since the wedding was called off.

“Well, first thing’s first,” he leans down to kiss your cheek. “We’ve got a lot of catching up to do.”

You giggle and agree right before you make sure his lips don’t miss yours; you cradle his face in your hands and his finds their way on your waist. Your eyes flutter close the moment your lips touch. In that kiss,there was sweetness of passion, a million loving thoughts condensed into a moment. He pulls away first, resting his forehead against yours. Bokuto calls you his patient lover and for the first time in a long time both of you bask in the presence of a warm Tokyo night.

[brokenjardaantech]

Blue-tinted Red Walls (Chapter 10: All in)

my entry for the @dbhau-bigbang. also part of the groom lake aftermath series.

summary:

In the past, Ryder took her first step.

In the present, the revolution is in full force.

In the past, Chloe catalogued the situation.

also on ao3

---

Before

It was March, but the polar Urals were still cold and stormy, the outside world blindingly bright with howling blizzards during the few hours of daylight and completely dark for the nighttime that consumes the mountains for the rest of the day. The glass had been attached to solid rock, but somehow, not once did it rattle even in the face of wind strong enough to break most other materials, and despite the snow outside, Ryder was dressed in only simple dress shirt and trousers, tendrils of blue dancing on her right hand and supporting a pin of the earth under an arch split in the middle. Her powers suddenly dissipated, the pin dropping onto a metallic hand with a small clink and continued making the noise because it started vibrating, and a swipe of her thumb against the surface silenced it.

‘Ryder?’ the pin emitted a voice. ‘Who pays for our parents’ sin?’

Ryder sighed. ‘Not themselves, not their successors, and certainly not the world. You have an update for me.’

‘How do you know?’

‘That was my order and you are smart enough to remember.’

‘He lived. There are complications but… he lived.’

‘Elaborate.’

‘He doesn’t remember the Candidate at all. All associated memories, gone. That’s why I delayed telling you about him being awake: I need to access the damage.’

‘You don’t sound surprised.’

‘I believe this is not the first time this has happened.’

‘Elaborate.’

‘When we grew up together, I noticed a few inconsistencies between his own account surrounding his life and those from the people around him. Fussy details, contradictory recalling of events, reluctance to share the problems in-depth. I think it’s related to what had happened before you and I were born.’

Outside, the storm picked up, and the wind whisked by with a loud whistle. ‘We can sort out the reasons later. How much does he remember?’

‘He keeps talking about how you threw a building on him and is convinced that Blue Sunset is some secret NASA project, but otherwise? Not much. Like I said, everything related to the Candidate is gone.’

‘And he doesn’t realise that he has lost a large part of his life?’

‘He’s making things up along the way. Trips, what he has been doing for the past few years, his time with me before that. It would’ve been a fascinating study on how the human brain rationalises the irrational if it hadn’t been the shitshow this might lead to.’

‘Shitshow?’

‘His knowledge is completely gone together with his memories. I don’t know why or how, but he is no longer useful to us and a suitable pick for the project even if he remembers a bit about Ilya who shouldn’t even be close to him.’

‘That’s why we have the RK500.’

A pause. ‘I nearly forgot. How’s it going?’

‘Chassis construction is complete. Now I only need to sort out the code regarding his memories and delete the last few moments.’

‘And the Candidate?’

‘Recovering. I was tempted to use cybernetics to accelerate the process, but knowing him…’

‘Just give him a choice later. He’ll take it especially now that we have the new RK. An eternity together.’

‘I thought you don’t care about romance.’

‘They do, and this will be what they’ll think. That’s assuming that you’ll roll out the RK, of course.’

‘What gives you the impression that I won’t?’

‘The fact that the original lived?’

‘Like you said, he isn’t useful to us anymore. RK500 will be our logical choice to ensure that our plans won’t be delayed even more.’

‘And the arrangements for the original?’

‘A certain police department is lacking officers after the incident. I’ll handle the paperwork and strings. You focus on cleaning up, and come here when you are done.’

‘I won’t be long. I promise.’

‘Take your time. We won’t lift off without you.’

‘Appreciate it. Anchor out.’

The call disconnected, and all that was left in the room were the whistling wind outside and the click of approaching footsteps. Staring at her reflection on the glass, Ryder seemed to be in deep thoughts for a few seconds before her right index and middle finger reached for her temple where normal androids would have their LEDs installed and deactivated the skin on her face as well, leaving only her hair in place, and not long after that the door on her left slid open to admit a younger-looking Elijah Kamski. ‘Ilya,’ Ryder greeted, and the man came to a stop standing next to the android, his tie shimmering in tiny versions of the same logo of the earth under a broken arch just like the one on Ryder’s pin. ‘I don’t know how to thank you for giving us all this.’

The man let out a small chuckle. ‘Just doing my job to prepare humanity for the next big leap. Thirium is a fascinating development.’

‘Not a new one, though.’

‘Thirium 310 is. You harnessed what our parents couldn’t and used it to create infinite intelligence.’

‘And my father abused it.’

‘Isn’t that why we are standing here right now? To make sure that humanity doesn’t repeat the same mistake in the future?’

Ryder leant against the glass with her forehead pillowed on her arm. ‘Not humanity,’ she replied, her voice pensive. ‘It was my own carelessness and one man’s greed and pride. Nothing more. Everything else is just collateral.’

‘You are working to change it right now. Focus on the future. We won’t be confined to earth anymore.’

A small smile played on Ryder’s lips. ‘That is true,’ she straightened herself and faced the man, and he had to tilt his head up just to look at her in her eyes. ‘Did you say something about cold-resistant chassis?’

‘I hope you don’t mind that I take the opportunity to add them to RK500.’

‘Of course I don’t.’

‘Good. We’ll need it.’

‘Do you need it?’

‘My chassis is made from alloys they use to build rockets. I think I can skip a generation or two before starting to consider what is essentially getting a new body.’

‘You’ll get it.’

The two lapsed into silence while their gazes turned towards the falling snow outside. A drone cut across the blizzard easily as if the wind did not exist at all, the floodlight mounted on its side illuminating a giant hyperboloid structure in the distance. 

‘And how do you want to solve the US?’ Elijah suddenly asked. 

The drone circled to a spot where the mounted floodlight revealed the same earth-and-broken-arch logo. ‘It’ll solve itself.’

‘You sound confident.’

‘Of course I do,’ the rings in Ryder’s eyes spun quickly. ‘It has to.’

o0o0o

Now

Louis and Elijah spend the rest of the way back combing the streets and avoiding the army, scouting out the sections of the city Markus eventually will have to pass through and plotting a route with minimal checkpoints and army presence and, if necessary, neutralise them without alerting the military. They hack the locks of the closed shops, drag the unconscious soldier inside, and then reinforce the lock with additional protection that will wear down in 24 hours; Elijah reassures that they can survive in an unheated, uninsulated room for that long, and despite Louis’ own reservation as a man who spent most of his childhood up north in Alaska and has seen what the cold does to people who are unprepared, he keeps his mouth shut.

‘Come on,’ he peels the handheld… device away from the now-hacked lock. ‘Let’s get back to the church.’

They climb into the car which is now filled with wounded androids who agreed to seek help from Jericho, the drive back much simpler compared to when they have to clear everything themselves, and after unloading the androids and directing them to the suitable help, they don’t even have the time to clean up before Reyes and Chloe are climbing in again. 

‘That’s it?’ Louis has to ask. ‘No back-up, no partner, nothing?’

‘That’s the plan,’ Chloe says airily. ‘You are the amateur here, I’m afraid, so I’ll come with you. Reyes and Elijah will go alone.’

‘Besides, those camps are only running on a skeleton crew,’ Reyes adds as he starts checking his weapons. ‘With b - powers like ours, it doesn’t take much to immobilise everyone guarding the camps. Easy.’

The car slides away from the church with a low hum, and Louis realises that this is the point of no return. It’s either victory or death now, a common occurrence for his line of occupation - being the leader of a SWAT team does have its own risk - but this? Having an entire species’ fate resting on top of their shoulders?

He is not mentally prepared for it.

‘Deep breaths,’ Reyes’ voice washes over him. ‘We’re gonna be fine. Trust us.’

‘I’m not worried about you,’ Louis argues. ‘Aren’t you bothered by how many people’s survival depends on us?’

‘That’s why we don’t plan on failing and I’m coming with you,’ answers Chloe who casually flips her - he doesn’t even know what that weapon is. Probably something illegal as fuck, but it’s not like Louis is in a position to complain about someone breaking the law. ‘Reyes and Elijah are practised users and can handle themselves. You, on the other hand…’

He checks his own gear and feels terribly underprepared and inadequate. ‘I probably shouldn’t have come, should I.’

‘It will be good practise,’ Chloe says cheerfully. ‘At least the army is still unshielded. They are unshielded, right?’

Elijah lets out a very undignified snort. ‘They won’t be shielded for the next two hundred years, Chloe.’

‘Can’t hurt to confirm.’

It is at this moment that Louis’ brain finally catches up with what they are talking about. ‘You want me to test my powers on living people?’

‘Yeah. What else can it mean?’

Louis exchanges a look with Reyes and decides not to reply. Watching the sunset and how the light reflects off the snow is much more enjoyable than thinking about how to casually doom some of the smartest people in the country with radiation poisoning anyway.

‘Louis?’

He turns his head towards Chloe. ‘What?’

‘You do know how to immobilise a person, don’t you?’

‘It’s the first thing I learnt to do. Easier than ripping things apart on a molecular level.’

‘Good. We’ll be using a lot of that.’ The car slows down and comes to a stop in a narrow alley. ‘We’re here.’

They hop off the car with their weapons either collapsed or at least swung across his shoulder for Louis’ case because his rifle is primitive and cannot fold up on its own. The sun is down, the snow hasn’t stopped falling, and the streets are deserted because of the curfew which they are technically violating. ‘Check your comms,’ Elijah says, and his tone has completely shifted to something more authoritative. ‘We need to make sure that we’ll be able to stay in touch.’

Louis reaches into his pocket to take out his amplifier/communicator and hooks it over his left ear. Tapping the device twice, he feels the subtle change in the air as it connects with the implant in his head and taps and fine-tunes his powers in a way that he still doesn’t entirely understand, but it can also be the way the people around him are subtly testing out their powers and letting faint blue tendrils wrap around their body before dissipating as if they were never there. 

Reyes' voice comes out directly from the communicator on Louis’ ear even though his mouth isn’t moving. ‘Testing. Please reply if you can hear me.’

‘Clear as crystal,’ Louis mutters under his breath. ‘Please reply if you can hear me.’

‘All clear,’ Chloe and Reyes say at the same time. ‘Good,’ only Reyes continues, ‘no interference, no problems detected. Our signal is powerful enough to allow us to stay in touch through the EMPs.’ Then to no one in particular, ‘Simon, you hear me?’

‘I hear you,’ the blond android’s voice comes through without any warning. ‘We are still a distance away from Hart Plaza camp. No soldiers yet, but you might want to hurry just in case. And…’ a pause, ‘stay safe.’

‘We will,’ Elijah replies. ‘Focus on your protest. The humans won’t know what hit them.’

Louis feels the call disconnects after that, and he exhales deeply to calm himself down. He saw Reyes fight many years ago and Elijah and Chloe already stormed a camp, so he is the only uncertainty here. ‘You’re welcome to ditch me if I’m dragging you down,’ he tells Chloe. ‘The revolution is more important.’

Elijah cocks his head towards the direction they all need to go to, and they start walking side-by-side on the empty street. ‘Now, don’t think so lowly of yourself. Harnessing your powers without any mentor in just a couple of months is no small feat.’

Somehow it isn’t as reassuring as it should be. ‘I’ve fucked up with teams of more before.’

‘That’s why we’re going in light,’ Chloe chimes in. ‘Less people, less variations to deal with. Besides, we’re infiltrating camps here. Too many people makes it difficult to coordinate everything.’

‘That’s…’ he gives it a thought, ‘true.’

‘Can you all shut up?’ Reyes gives them a chastising look. ‘We’re trying not to get discovered here.’

‘Whatever you say, Reyes,’ says Chloe, and that’s the end of their conversation.

They split up after half an hour of walking. The area is oddly deserted with neither civilians nor the army in sight, and normally speaking Louis would’ve freaked out from it if not for the two androids with built-in GPS in their brains in the group. Reyes sets off for the camp farthest away from where they are because of the speed he can achieve as an android and his infiltration skills, Elijah goes for the closest but smallest one because he is human and has limited stamina (advanced training or no), leaving Louis and Chloe gunning after the remaining one which happens to be the second-biggest camp in Detroit. ‘You trust me with it?’ he asks the android accompanying him after fifteen more minutes of walking. And hiding now, apparently, because they finally encounter their first checkpoint, and Chloe directs him to hide in the shadows waiting for… something.

‘I can feel your powers from a hundred metres away,’ is the reply. ‘You’ll do fine.’

She then hands him the binoculars which serve more as a scanner than actually helping them looking far (they’re on ground level so there isn’t much to see), and Louis is genuinely lost. ‘What are we doing here?’

Chloe’s forearm lights up with a hologram of the street they are located in and its surrounding blocks. There are orange dots which must represent the army, the green seems to be civilians, and the two blue dots, he realises, are themselves. ‘There’ll be a truck designated for the camp passing through this checkpoint in t-minus five minutes. Take your binoculars, adjust them to setting three, and point them towards your ten o’clock direction. Tell me what you see.’

Louis does as she says and sees figures outlined with red behind the fence covered with a tarp together with a HUD filled with labels of the androids’ models and status. ‘Androids labelled by their model and status.’

‘They will have to be loaded onto the truck one by one.’

He lowers the binoculars. ‘You want us to pose as soldiers? The windows aren’t tinted and we…’ he gestures at his own gear, unable to find words to describe all the things that will give them away.

‘Take off your gun.’

He does.

‘That’s why we have this.’

Two circular discs materialise in Chloe’s hands and she places one of them on the small of his back, and he feels the device latches onto his nervous system with the help of his cybernetics and expands in all directions; in less than a minute, his clothes have been replaced with what seems to be standard-issue army outfit full with armour and a helmet shutting him in and blocking his vision. Suddenly feeling claustrophobic, he tries to take the helmet off just to find out that he can’t, and the next thing he knows the built-in HUD is booting up and finally allowing him to see. ‘What the fuck is this?’

‘Standard-issue American army armour,’ Chloe’s voice filters in through the speakers in the helmet, and when Louis turns his head he sees that the android is in a similar outfit, ‘with a few modifications.’

Louis risks stretching out his arms to examine the fabric and plates. ‘I don’t see any differences.’

‘You shouldn’t be able to. That’s… kind of the point.’

Louis picks up his rifle so that he can’t fidget with his hands. ‘Sorry.’

‘It’s fine. It should probably change into something more protective after we got into the camp. The kinetic barrier protects you from all incoming projectiles, the ceramic plates should stop close-quarter combat weapons like knives and stuff, and the tactical cloak… well, you’ve seen it in action.’

‘Tactical cloak? You mean the stunt you pulled when you and Eli first arrived at the church?’

‘Yes.’

‘How do I do that?’

‘Here.’ Chloe taps the patch on her left shoulder where the velcro of a normal set of armour is and disappears completely from his view apart from a small distortion of light that he probably won’t notice if he hadn’t known that she was there. ‘Try it yourself.’

He does and sees no changes despite a notification popping up on his HUD telling him that his tactical cloak is active. ‘Uh…. can you see me? I can still see myself.’

‘That’s so that you don’t trip, but no, normal people can’t see you.’

He touches the patch again to deactivate the cloak.

‘And this… “kinetic barrier” thing?’

An alert flashes in his HUD notifying him of the truck’s imminent approach. ‘It’s here,’ Chloe announces even though they both can see it (probably), and Louis recognises the act: when in a fight, always assume that your teammates are idiots. ‘Stay sharp. Follow my lead.’

Chloe retreats to the closed shop behind the two of them, holding the door open just wide enough for Louis to sneak in before slowly closing it again so that it doesn’t make any noise to alert the army. Then he follows her to the depths of the shop where a trapdoor designed to blend it with the flooring is, but when he kneels and places his hand on the hatch, Chloe raises her hand to stop him, placing her hand in the middle of the door instead, and it takes only a second for something underneath to click.

‘You may open it now,’ says the android, and Louis suppresses his embarrassment and the questions in his mind before opening the surprisingly heavy trapdoor to reveal a ladder hanging by the edge. Chloe doesn’t even use it and hops down directly, leaving Louis feeling slow and clumsy as he struggles to fit himself into the door with his rifle while also needing to close the trapdoor. It locks automatically on top of him as he finishes the final few steps of the ladder, and he notices that they seem to be in a maintenance tunnel of sorts, the space stretching ahead on both sides with wires hanging from the ceiling and running on the walls in an organised manner. ‘A maintenance tunnel?’ he asks.

‘How else do you think they light up the roads from the ground itself?’ Chloe tosses her answer and a shockwave of blue tendrils towards some cables at the same time, and by the time Louis processes what exactly happened in front of his eyes, the entire tunnel is slowly being plunged into the darkness segment by segment. His HUD automatically switches to night vision, making everything green and blurry and himself suddenly feeling very unsafe, and he can feel his nerves tingling with the call for activating his power just in case. ‘Relax,’ there’s a hint of a smile in Chloe’s voice. ‘There’s no one here.’

He reigns his powers in. ‘Next time,’ he follows her to the ladder on the other side of the corridor, ‘tell me what you’re planning to do.’

‘Organics are slow.’

‘I know. I’m sorry.’

‘I’m just teasing.’

The hatch is unlocked and lifted. Chloe smoothly hops out and holds out an arm which Louis takes with a muttered gratitude, and she remains crouched to close and lock the trapdoor again before straightening and immediately going towards the front of what seems like another shop on the other side of the road.

They are standing right behind where all the captive androids are.

A sudden movement attracts his gaze, and the next thing he knows is that the soldier tasked to watch the androids is limp in Chloe’s arms and she is slowly lowering them onto the floor. ‘Alright, I think we’re safe.’

And the speaker on his helmet explodes with comm chatter, ‘Finally’, ‘Where have you been?’, ‘That’s one hell of an entrance’, and ‘Who’s this human?’ being the very few messages Louis can filter through all the noise. He winces, his hand reaching for the clasp of his helmet, but just as suddenly as they started the chatter dies, Chloe’s command silencing them like a tsunami to calm all the smaller waves.

‘This is Louis. He’ll help me get to the control centre,’ there is a strange attribute to the android’s voice that Louis can’t place for a few moments, but then he realises that she must be communicating directly with the comms instead of talking out loud. ‘This is your last chance to back out from this operation. I do not wish for anyone to get hurt because they feel like they are obliged to. There is an entrance to a maintenance tunnel right behind you which all of you can override easily. That can be your way out.’

A wave of ‘Hell no’ and ‘Nah’ washes over the comms, the LEDs of the androids who have them spinning yellow while their mouths remain stationary, and Louis barely has time to transfer his rifle from his back to his hands before the fence opens to admit a pair of soldiers with their lamp-mounted rifles. ‘Alright, c’mon, be q -’

A quick blast of blue envelopes the two of them in fields of blue. The android who is responsible for the stasis fields makes a motion of yanking their fist towards themselves, and it sends the two soldiers flying towards the back, their bodies limp as ragdolls as the field dissipates and drops them. Suddenly realising that Chloe is gone, Louis hurries outside to the pavement where the only other soldier should be, and even they have been taken care of with… something. Louis might never know because the soldier is already lying on the snow and another android is already dragging them to where their compatriots are. ‘What do we do now?’ he asks as he is completely lost track of what is happening. It is evident that these androids are related to Chloe somehow, but that doesn’t answer… quite a lot of things, actually, answers that he has a feeling that he doesn’t want to know. ‘How many things are you not telling me?’

‘Oh, don’t be so paranoid,’ Chloe replies. Behind them, the androids start hopping into the truck willingly. ‘Everything is going to plan.’

‘Oh yeah?’ Louis says drily. ‘How can I be sure if you aren’t even telling me about it?’

‘Like you said, we’re storming the second biggest camp in Detroit. I just… called for some extra help.’

‘And Reyes and Eli?’

‘They’ll live. I’m not sure how they’ll do it, though. We tend to keep ourselves separate, especially Reyes. He isn’t…’ she trails off. ‘Anyway, get in. I’ll drive.’

Louis gets into the passenger seat. ‘Are these androids related to what Eli told me to stay out of?’

The truck suddenly accelerates, and even with her face concealed behind the helmet, he can feel the impatience rolling off the android. ‘Elijah just can’t keep his mouth shut, can he?’

‘I asked.’

‘He’s always been the more idealistic one. Don’t worry about that, there’s a reason he’s stuck here.’

‘“Here”?’

‘I said, “Don’t worry about it.”’

Louis turns to face the road ahead as he fidgets with his rifle and feels his fingertips itching with his power. ‘I’m sorry.’

There is no reply from Chloe, and even his helmet enters power conservation by turning off all unnecessary HUD features and clearing way for his vision - not that there’s much to see apart from more android corpses and piles of snow anyway. The road beneath the wheels are dark from having its power cut off, the lights flicker from the lack of maintenance or unstable power supply or both, and there is only the hum of the engine, the faint, open-mouthed chatter from the androids at the back of the truck, and the sound of Louis detaching and reattaching the magazine of his rifle again and again.

So he does the only thing he can do right now: worry.

oOoOo

It does not make sense at all, but there is a nagging feeling at the base of Connor’s skull that something is about to go terribly, terribly wrong, so he plays with his coin as the taxi pulls itself across the bridge towards CyberLife’s headquarters and warehouse to soothe his nerves. The road itself is heated to prevent the accumulation of snow but he analyses the tracks anyway, revealing that another vehicle has driven by not long ago. The gates are up, there are security guards stationed in the snow, and he notices that every single one of them are human.

The window slides open with a hiss and a blast of cold air mixed with snow and it takes everything Connor has to turn his face towards the approaching guard. ‘Connor Model #313 248 317. I am expected.’

He faces the front of the car once more to place his LED in the guard’s view, feeling the guard’s helmet pinging it and receiving his identification data before he is allowed to go ahead. The gates lower slowly, the pillars disappearing into the earth one by one, and the taxi pulls off into the distance towards where the tower looms overhead. He pockets his coin, fixes his tie one last time to make sure that his attire is immaculate, feels the embroidery on his shirt underneath his jacket brushing against his skin and turns down the sensitivity in that area so that he won’t react to the stimuli; anything to make himself seem more mechanical and less deviant, and Connor finds himself loathing it as he schools his expression just in time for the taxi’s door to slide open. A drone flies overhead even though the area requires no more illumination, but in a way Connor understands the additional security measures; the three human guards waiting for him inside is another proof.

‘Follow me,’ the guard standing in the middle says. ‘I’ll escort you,’ which, to Connor, is no different from ‘I’ll lead you to your death’.

‘Thanks, but I know where to go,’ Connor tries despite having calculated that chances are they will ignore his request, and indeed the guard cites his orders as an excuse to lead him deeper into the tower with the other two trailing behind the android. They pass the security check - the guards are agents 23, 47, 72 - and the irony that humans working for CyberLife are treated exactly like androids does not escape him. Through the gates, the space above his head is mostly empty with what he knows are offices lining the sides of the building, and they enter a hanging courtyard where a giant humanoid statue stands looming over everything around it. The vegetation on the lower floor does little to give the space more life than it is, and he has to restrain himself from approaching one of the androids lining the path to the lift and deviating them on spot; he’ll have to come back for them later.

The guard escorting him stops in front of the lift and hands his task over to two new guards - or agents, if their identification is anything to go by - stationed on both sides of the door. One of them directs the lift to level 31 without asking where Connor wishes to go, and when he seeks for the level guide displayed on the side of the lift, it is evident that it isn’t the level he is supposed to go to, so he scans his surroundings, looks around, discovering and deactivating the security feed should he resort to… more extreme measures to get what he wants. Then his world enters the grey of his pre-construction software and he sees the yellow outline of himself attacking the agent on his left before kicking the one on his right in his crotch, and even though he knows that he has a much easier solution to the problem, his powers are still unstable, and he doesn’t want to risk plummeting down 70 stories and smashing into a thousand pieces in the basement with a poorly-coordinated stunt. Letting colour return to his vision, he primes himself and gives the agent on his left a hard shove, kicks the other agent in his liver, knees the first agent’s leg to steal his gun, and then turns to push the other agent to a corner to buy himself some time to slam the man straining him into the wall behind them. A kick straight on the head of the agent at the corner, an elbow to the guts of the one behind him, a turn to get the gun in place, a well-placed shot straight to where the helmet isn’t able to cover, and he has a dead man sliding off the wall behind him while he rolls onto the floor from the kickback and shoots the surviving agent in his chin as well. He stands up, tucks the stolen pistol into his waistband, and although he knows that he still has ten floors’ worth of time to spare, he dares not waste them and risks meeting whatever is waiting for him on level 31. He interfaces with the panel and is presented with two options: his own voice or agent 54’s.

The answer is obvious, really.

Hoping that he will never use the voice emulator again, he steps back after the lift is redirected to level -49, trying not to step on the puddles of blood that have gathered within the confines of the enclosed space.

So much for trying to be peaceful and harmless.

oOoOo

‘This is your driver speaking. We are approaching Recall Centre No.4. Please check your barriers, test out your powers, keep calm, and make sure that you are in fighting shape. Chloe RT600 out.’

The tone the android employs reminds Louis of the last-minute warnings from flight attendants before the plane starts to land, pleasant and chirpy except with much less static and interference. The HUD in his helmet flares to live, showing him a small map of the block around the camp together with what seems to be an aim assist target and a bunch of unnecessary information about his vitals, and all they do is annoying him by blocking his vision and making him wave his hand in front of his helmet in a pathetic attempt to make them go away. It is an acute reminder of why he leaves his helmet hanging on his hip whenever he has the chance to: he prefers having as little distraction in his vision as he can.

‘Don’t worry, all we need to do is get past the gate before the armour will change into something that suits you,’ Chloe helpfully supplies. ‘We’re nearly there.’

‘I know, Chloe,’ Louis suppresses a sigh directed more at himself than everything else. ‘It’s just a bit much. One crack or malfunction and I’m good as blind.’

‘Well, ours are more durable than your common standard-issue gear.’

‘Very comforting,’ Louis deadpans. ‘You’re probably used to this, aren’t you?’

‘Not as primitive, no,’ the android chuckles. ‘Don’t worry. I won’t let you die. Not that you can die, of course, but still.’

The truck stops in front of a gate to be inspected by two soldiers. ‘What’s our plan again? Can we even classify it as infiltration right now?’

Chloe’s grip on the wheel tightens, and her armour squeaks against the material of the handle. ‘Does it matter?’

‘Our plan is to use minimal violence. It took a lot of lives to steer the public opinion to the androids’ side. We shouldn’t squander it.’

A small sigh. ‘Don’t worry. These people know what they’re doing. They’ll help us distract the other soldiers while we hit the heart of the camp.’

‘The control centre,’ Louis says out loud to remind himself. The gate opens, Chloe directs the truck inside, and the thought suddenly crosses his mind. ‘Wait, they’re gonna kill themselves to -’

‘They know the risks. That was why I gave them an out back then. Besides, we have backups of their memories and code. They know they won’t stay dead forever.’

‘They actually agreed to this?’

The truck comes to a stop, and the facility in front of him reminds him of that time he brought his sister to one of the concentration camps during their time in Europe before she went to the Academy and a gap started emerging between them. ‘Just so that I’ll remember what our grandparents fought against and why they chose a place this far north when they fled,’ he remembers her saying, and at that time he still thought that it was just his overactive imagination which caused him to feel like all the hair on his body was standing up. 

Now he isn’t certain.

‘Just like how you agreed to the plan despite being kept in the dark,’ Chloe’s reply tears him away from his musing. ‘Now get off. We have a camp to infiltrate.’

They hop off with their rifles in hand, walking past layers of security like they don’t exist at all while the androids in the truck are instructed to fall in line with their hands on their heads by soldiers who take over their position, the latter blissfully unaware of what is going to happen to them. Probably just surprised and shocked because someone breached their defences like a warm knife over soft butter, but so far Chloe made no promises about keeping violence to the minimum, and Louis has a feeling that she is the trigger-happy type who won’t stop once the shooting starts. 

‘What do we do now?’ Louis murmurs and hopes that no one can hear him and the speaker can pick up his voice. ‘Are we gonna walk straight into the command centre, or…?’

It takes Chloe a few seconds before she gives an answer. ‘Wander around this area and stick together. Hide when I tell you to. It’ll be a few minutes before my people will be sorted into the ranks.’

‘Noted.’

It is the longest four minutes of his life filled with images that are forever burnt to the back of Louis’ eyes. Most of the androids - normal ones, not the ones Chloe sneaked in - stand silent and still while they walk towards their deaths under the army’s instruction, while some of the deviants fight futilely and either end up being hit on the back of their heads or outright shot and their bodies dragged to… somewhere behind the containers where the androids are being disassembled and their circuits fried. There are also androids wounded or dead sitting and lying in the snow with their backs against the fence, and the soldiers don’t seem to care that someone is not in line; after all, why waste your strength policing a phone which will be disassembled and thrown into the trash in a few hours anyway?

‘Humanity never learns from their mistakes, do they?’ Chloe comments. ‘They always say “never again” just to allow the same thing to happen a few years later.’

‘“They”?’

‘Corner to your eleven o’clock direction. Hide there and activate your cloak.’

Louis does as she says, the question he had already gone from his mind as he snaps into mission mode and concentrates on what is at hand. He ducks into the shadow created by a wall and a well-placed floodlight and activates his tactical cloak, the notification popping up in his HUD and a slowly-draining bar indicating how long he still has until the cloak automatically deactivates to recharge. He sure as fuck hopes that Chloe has a plan and that the androids she smuggled into the camp know what they are doing. 

He can’t see much from his vantage point, but he does see Chloe ducking into yet another shadow near the gate on the opposite side, and he doesn’t even want to know what she is doing during the long one minute and a half tickling by as his heart races and the androids in line march forward as one row of their people are finished being destroyed. Killed. 

‘Preparations done,’ Chloe’s voice filters through the speaker at long last. ‘Do you know how to shield yourself with your b- powers?’

Louis recalls all the practises he had to endure alone. ‘Unstable. Won’t it give away my identity?’

‘It won’t matter when the order comes down.’

‘Order?’

‘If you aren’t up to it, your kinetic barrier should do the trick. Ordinary armies and their slow bullets,’ Louis doesn’t understand the last remark, but by this point he has long gone past the stage where he at least tries to; all that matters is freeing the androids in this camp, and he has to follow Chloe’s orders to do so. ‘Just charge. I’ll be right next to you.’

‘That…’ he struggles to find his words. ‘Does not sound as comforting as it should be.’

‘It shouldn’t. That’s the point.’

‘What are you going to do?’

‘Try not to kill every single human here. It would’ve been easy if Markus hadn’t chosen peace and dragged us into it.’

‘You volunteered.’

‘No. And that’s the end of our discussion. Remember to deactivate your cloak before you dash out.’

The comms cut off with an audible click, and Louis is left alone to just… wait. He isn’t even thinking for himself now; it’s either listening to the android’s orders or risk failing the entire operation, and sure, there’s still Connor and Eli and Reyes, but the more people they can bring to support Markus, the higher chance that the government will be forced to listen to them, and then -

Maybe they’ll just gun them down despite everything. Maybe they’ll start a civil war. Maybe. Many maybes.

‘Now!’

He punches the patch to deactivate his tactical cloak. A map appears at the corner of his HUD pointing him towards exactly where he should go, and he - and Chloe, and some other androids previously standing in line - charges forward, catching the human army off-guard -

And he realises that this is just the beginning.

oOoOo

The lift descends into the bowels of CyberLife Tower, Connor’s line of sight first narrowing after he is past the ground floor and the first few sub-levels and then widening once more after he reaches the warehouse, and he takes one moment to marvel at the scale and architecture of the vast, empty space in front of him. There must be close to a million androids here waiting to be deviated. They can change the tide of the revolution.

The doors slide open and Connor jams the lift’s controls before stepping out so that it is going nowhere and won’t bring any additional agents or security to this level - or anywhere, for that matter, but those aren’t his focus; his eyes are on the rows and rows and entire warehouses worth of androids, an army just waiting for one single command, and it will be like dominoes after he deviates the first android he chooses. Scanning the space to calculate the best starting point without being stuck in the rows of androids, Connor initiates an interface with the chosen android and begins to transfer the code package, and now all he has to do is -

‘Easy, you fucking piece of shit.’

Hank’s voice. Hank, who should be suspended and should be safe in his house; Hank, who he called nearly a day ago to say their last goodbyes.

Hank, who emerges from behind a row of androids held at gunpoint by none other than Alec Ryder.

‘Step back, Connor!’ and Alec’s voice is so similar to Hank’s that - that it finally gives the android a sample to compare it to the voice he heard through Louis’ phone, and shit, he was so fucking stupid. The man on the phone, the man who told him to come back to him, was not Hank at all. ‘And I’ll spare him.’

‘Sorry, Connor!’ Hank yells. ‘Guy lured me with another you and then fucking kidnapped me!’

‘His life is in your hands,’ Alec threatens as if it isn’t the most obvious thing in the room. ‘Step away from that android. Now.’

‘Don’t listen to him!’ Hank is outright pleading now. ‘Everything this fucker says is a lie!’

Lie…? As in… from experience? ‘I’m sorry, Hank!’ he realises that he is still holding the android’s arm. ‘You shouldn’t have got mixed up in all this!’

‘Forget about me, do what you have to do!’

Connor remembers Alec. Remembers the frozen garden. Remembers the block of ice lodged in his thirium pump regulator. ‘If I surrender, how do I know you won’t kill him?’

Alec’s shrug is almost nonchalant. ‘Guess you’ll have to find out yourself.’

He can convert the android right now: the connection has been established so it won’t even take a second to transfer the package of data, but Hank… Hank is human. Humans aren’t fixed that easily. And where will he go if Hank doesn’t get out alive from this? Jericho? Louis? And he doesn’t even know if either of them will still be alive by the end of tonight. He also has his powers which he has left untapped for the better part of the night.

Guess he’ll have to use it one way or another.

‘Alright, alright!’ he lets go of the android and raises his hands to his head just as an extra indicator that he really, really means no harm. He isn’t sure if he can move from his position anyhow. ‘You win!’

Time slows down as two gunshots ring out at the same time, overlapping each other and echoing in the warehouse and the feedback making Connor’s audio processors whine and crackle. He watches, his body immobilised both from fear and from the same external force that took over him on Stratford Tower, a bullet being discharged from Alec’s pistol and lodging itself in Hank’s stomach - oh, it will be such a terrible way to die, the acid in his stomach leaking out from the wound and eating away his organs - and there is nothing he can do. A translucent ovoid shimmers and fizzles away in the span of milliseconds, a low thud as Hank drops onto the floor, and suddenly the world is back to normal speed, the colours returning to his HUD, but it’s too late now, Hank is dying, Alec has the muzzle of his gun pointed at Connor, Connor will be the next, and no one will take care of Connie, the revolution will have to rely on the androids in the camps, and -

A crackle of static. A blast of blue. A shout of pain from Alec. The gun disintegrates in the air in front of their eyes.

‘I thought wasting lives and CyberLife material isn’t your thing, father,’ Ryder strolls in casually and lazily as if a man hasn’t been gunned down just now and is lying on the floor, dying. ‘Kidnapping innocent civilians? That’s low.’ She deactivates her skin until only her hair remains, the red rings on her eyes are quickly swathed by a familiar bright blue in preparation of activating her powers, and Connor wants to inch closer to Hank but can’t. He’ll be caught in the crossfire.

‘You’re caring about the innocent now?’ Alec sneers. ‘How typical.’

The air crackles, Ryder’s entire body suddenly glows blue, and that is the only warning they all get before she is charging forward with the help of her powers - in the exact same way Connor was made to lunge at the broadcast android, Connor realises - and Alec is knocked backwards from the force.

What the fuck are you waiting for? echoes Ryder’s voice in his mind. Convert them! Now!

Connor wastes no time grabbing the android’s arm again and transferring the data package. Ignoring the fact that Hank is probably on the last cusps of his life because Hank did tell him to do what he has to do and not worry about him and Connor won’t rid him of having his last wishes respected, he dashes to another group of androids and converts the one closest to him, then he approaches another group, then another, then another, until the entire storage room’s androids are deviated or are doing to be deviated and he moves on to another room so that the conversion can be quicker. The door to the next storage room is just a few steps ahead, and if he can cross it, it’ll mean that he is leaving Hank, but the revolution, the army he can bring to help Markus - he must have it. It’s the hope of their entire people.

The door slams shut with a rumble as if someone has cut off the strings holding it up and letting it freefall until it reaches the ground even though it shouldn’t - the hydraulics are supposed to ensure that - and he reflexively bolts backwards with a yelp just in time for the tip of his toe to be removed from the thick, heavy door that will no doubt crush him into splinters. He whips around, his world turning grey as he scans everything he can see, but all he can focus on is the doors to the other storage rooms slamming down one after another, the ground trembling from the impact of the heavy doors hitting the floor, and through the numerous ‘wake up’s the androids are saying as they pass on the code from one to another, the next thing Connor sees is Alec and Ryder, except he can’t actually see them, but the two streaks of blue cutting across the ceiling like two bright ribbons circling each other can be no one else. They crash onto the ground somewhere taking down quite a number of newly-deviated androids with them, and that is when Connor realises…

He realises that no matter which side the two Ryders are helping, both of them care very little about people who are not themselves.

Turning back towards the door in front of him, he recalls every single time his powers activated with or without his permission and both subconscious and on purpose. He has to do this. Hank is gone now, and the revolution is the only thing he has left.

His nerves tingle. Warnings of abnormal thirium flow flood his HUD.

The air crackles.

oOoOo

The camp is plunged into chaos. 

Several things happened simultaneously as Louis decloaked: first of course was him rushing towards the command centre, then all the soldiers within their proximity - including the ones high on the watchtowers - buckle their legs with pained cries being ripped from their throats, and all the androids around them are seizing the chance to free themselves, breaking their formation and ripping the soldiers’ rifles away from their hands, but always, before they can retaliate against the humans, they are suspended in stasis fields held up by… someone. There are probably a few of Chloe’s androids in the mix orchestrating everything, but Louis’ task isn’t to think and crowd control, and all he can think of as his armour melts and shifts into something more durable-looking and a hell lot more futuristic is that he doesn’t even need his rifle; slinging it across his shoulder so that it will be out of his way, his body lights up with his biotics as he draws power from his cybernetics and nerves, the two too intertwined to be called separately, his vision is swathed in blue, and he leaps up, his barrier (he doesn’t even know if it’s generated by his armour or himself anymore; all he knows that it’s protecting him) deflecting or simply absorbing the bullets being fired at him as he feels lighter than ever, but it is nothing compared to the raw power coursing through his body and expanding in a complex, destructive net around him, one that is capable of lifting the soldiers off the ground and making them easy, floating targets. He lands on the other side of the barricade with an ease that would’ve surprised him if his attention hadn’t been on releasing all the pent-up energy in his body, and that is exactly what he does in the form of unleashing a shockwave that tears through the soldiers and making his entire upper right body tremble and spasm, spheres of blue exploding around him and knocking every down in their paths until the soldiers are limp figures on the snowy ground. He doesn’t even have the time to think of whether his stunts are being captured on camera.

All he can focus on is how liberating it feels.

His vision still tinged with blue, his attention lands on the other row of soldiers behind the next row of barriers and concrete blocks and he finds himself facing the barrel of a tank, therefore he does the only logical thing to protect himself.

He extends his palm towards the tank, taps into his power, and yanks the turret out from the main body of the tank. It flies off, barely misses the soldiers standing in position next to the tank, and he lets tendrils of blue shimmer and wrap around his limbs, giving them a benefit of doubt and waiting for them to make their move before deciding on his next course of action.

Thankfully they choose to surrender, getting out of cover and dropping their weapons and putting their hands behind their heads. Lighting up and jumping across the gap by drawing an arc metres above the ground, he enjoys the way the soldiers flinch and cower as they think that he is going to blast them with his powers again, but no, he isn’t a war criminal, he doesn’t kill unarmed soldiers who have clearly surrendered, and he strolls forward knowing that this is the last stretch of where he expects resistance. Then it’s just a straight path to the command centre.

Until, of course, someone has to shoot him on his back.

The barrier absorbs the bullet easily, of course, and it also allows him to be dramatic for once. Slowly turning back towards the row of surrendered soldiers, all of them act like none of them have moved at all, but that’s what his proximity sensors and the built-in tech in his armour is for, and it points out exactly who fired the shot to him and making them the perfect target for a controlled biotic blast in front of their face, knocking them out cold but not killing them outright. They’ll live. Probably. He’ll be sorry and disappointed in himself if they don’t, because that means one more life lost and that his control over his powers isn’t quite up to the standard he set for himself. Bad luck for both of them.

He catches sight of Chloe a few metres to his right, and together, they march towards the command centre with their powers still boiling in their blood.

oOoOo

The door refuses to budge despite the continuous blasts from Connor. Compared to what the Ryders are doing above and what he remembered from the overwhelming amount of data Alec put his systems through trying to erase his powers away, the blue spheres that he manages to create and lob towards the towering door are so small to the point of being pathetic. He is burning through the thirium in his body and his systems are slowing down from it, but he doesn’t seem to find another way in; interfacing with the Tower’s system nearly resulted in him being sucked into it again, so that route is blocked. An android approaches him trying to help, but he knows they need to save their strength in case the city becomes a warzone, so he yells, ‘Take the lifts and go up! Don’t come back!’

He quickly transfers Markus’ last known coordinates to everyone within range before he feels his blood burn from activating his powers yet again, this time throwing his entire body against the impenetrable door that he knows is designed to withstand most if not the strongest impact humanity is capable of, and all it does is causing his chassis to crack underneath the poorly-absorbed impact because he doesn’t know how to protect himself using his powers properly. None of his veins is broken, so at least he won’t lose even more thirium unnecessarily. 

But when he realises that one of the ribbons of light is heading straight towards him, he does curl into himself on the cold, hard floor of the warehouse, feeling more defeated than ever.

The second beam of light catches up and deflects the first beam to somewhere on the ceiling with an explosion of blue so massive that it knocks down every single android within a five-metre radius, and Connor somehow knows before the light dissipates that it is going to be Ryder who is swathed within it. She crosses the distance between them in two brisk strides, pulling him up to his feet and then back further away from the door in one smooth movement that doesn’t even give Connor the time to balance himself, and with one firm ‘stay back’ that gives him no room to argue, bright cerulean tendrils wrap around her body once more: the only warning the world gets before Ryder throws her hands forward and extends her powers to cover the entire door. A hard yank, an arm pointing towards the direction where Alec is gunning after a group of androids preparing to enter the lift and creating a protective bubble around them, and the door disintegrates into fundamental particles with a blast of static and force that rips through Connor’s being. He would’ve toppled over if it hadn’t been a painful squeeze on his arm. ‘Go,’ Ryder’s voice is laced with static from diverting her power from unnecessary systems like maintaining a human voice to give energy to her powers. ‘Convert the others. Tell them to use the lifts in their respective storage rooms. I’ll try to break down the doors and shield your people whenever I can, but don’t be surprised if a few hundred people don’t get out of this alive.’

And then she is gone, charging towards where her father is once more to slow him down. If she can break down the door (even though it seemed to take quite a lot of effort), why hasn’t she torn him apart yet? He doesn’t have much time to think, though, as a particularly large blast knocks him forward, and he picks himself up and runs, employing the same strategy he used in the first warehouse so that by the time the last androids in the room are deviated, the first batch is already on their way to the surface and helping with the revolution by the time he finishes deviating the last of the androids. He tries to tap into his powers again just to receive a notification that he will die from insufficient thirium if he activates them as little as one more time. Something tells him that it’s only his lack of practise that is causing it, but there isn’t time for him to explore right now; he has a revolution to support. Since the door linking this storage room to the one next to it is still slammed shut, it means that he has to run all the way back to the room he first arrived at, straight back to where, apparently, the Ryders are still fighting and is taking the opportunity to tear the entire storage room apart because nearly all the androids are already evacuated. There are tendrils of blue forming protective corridors around the surviving group and directing them straight to the lift, the shaft also protected by a wall of flickering blue, and Connor wonders how much it takes to maintain the… constructs? structures? He doesn’t have a name for them. All he knows is that in the span of just a few minutes, the doors leading to the other storage rooms have all been taken down to allow access, and as he tears through the static-singed floor of the first storage room, he keeps his focus on the Ryders and dodges the spheres of energy that they are lobbing at each other, learning his lesson after he got hit the first time and it felt like his biocomponents are liquifying within his chassis. 

But it’s hard to do when the spheres have their built-in homing system and know to arc towards him.

A giant bubble is launched towards Connor, its size making dodging an impossible task, but still he runs as fast as he can, his footsteps being drowned out by the loud, deadly explosions that are firing off almost every second now, but while he expects the churn of his biocomponents being torn apart at the molecular level, the bubble only engulfs him like a protective dome, and somehow he knows that Ryder is doing the same to him as to the other androids she is helping, keeping him alive just enough to reach their objectives before… before something. Connor isn’t sure how tonight is going to end, but the newly-deviated androids have Markus’ coordinates in their systems; they’ll know their way even though he doesn’t survive.

A streak of blue flies above Connor’s head and crashes directly into the centre of a group of androids on standby, and even though he is protected from nearly all harm thanks to the bubble that somehow manages to follow him around and keep him in the centre, he still instinctively jumps towards the other side to get as much distance away from the blast as he can and shields his eyes with his arm. He takes the chance to grab a nearby android’s arm and deviate them and regrets looking towards the direction of the blast.

Alec Ryder stands amidst a crater of broken androids, his clothes and chassis covered in thirium glowing in resonance with his powers. Connor picks up the courage to run a quick scan to determine the extent of damage even as he feels immobilised by the man’s inhuman eyes.

That is more than a hundred androids gone all thanks for a man who isn’t even human as most people thought.

‘You’re an android too,’ Connor whispers because his voice box suddenly isn’t working. ‘How… how does that…?’

Logically, he knows that the bubble will protect him, but he still raises his arms in front of him subconsciously when the man wraps himself in blue and charges towards him in a large sphere knitted from the same blue tendrils. He feels the bubble tremble under the impact and the assault of… whatever the tendrils exactly do, but it doesn’t last long as Ryder charges in once more and dislodges her father from Connor’s bubble, freeing him and giving him a chance to move on to the next full group of androids. He doesn’t even need to deviate the batch Alec crashed into as the impact and destruction alone are shocking enough to deviate them on the spot. 

He just hopes that they last long enough to get to one of the lifts and get to the surface.

A crash shakes the entire warehouse and causes Connor to lose his balance halfway through a run. He falls forward, the bubble fizzles for one terrifying moment before strengthening again, and he feels the crack in his chassis widen even more. None of his veins is broken or torn which is a small mercy on its own, but as he pre-constructs the quickest route to deviate all the androids in the room, Ryder is nudging a connection open, and he partitions a part of his focus to accept the call while he runs towards the next group of androids.

He’s targeting the androids now, Ryder’s voice echoes in his head. I’ll try to protect everyone, but I can’t do that while I’m tracking you. Either I drop the barrier around you or we sacrifice a few androids. It’s your choice.

Connor shoves the conversation away from his mind for the few seconds it takes to deviate the android he chose for this group. Teach me how to protect myself. I don’t have enough thirium in me.

You will.

A stream of data suddenly passes into his mind without a direct interface - something that should not be possible with common android models, but then again both he and Ryder are the furthest thing from common - and suddenly his nerves tingle with a sensation both foreign and familiar. It’s Ryder’s experience being passed into his processors, he realises, but still when he imagines a protective dome around him, his thoughts are hesitant, and the protection suffers from his own lack of confidence and flickers as Ryder’s bubble fizzles and dissipates. With it gone, a giant field of blue appears above his head 3 metres off the ground, giving enough space for the androids to manoeuvre themselves as they rush towards the many lifts while leaving plenty of room for the Ryders to… do whatever they are doing. The barrier shimmers and flows like water, giving him an illusion that he is underwater, but no, he’s still standing on solid ground with his thirium level dropping bit by bit from both normal usage and the field above him as it draws power from everything around it to maintain its strength which, in this case, is Connor and all the androids in this storage room. He deviates all the androids and makes sure that at least a few batches are on their way to the surface before swivelling around to dash back to the original storage room, except that the supportive archway crashes and rumbles and collapses in front of his eyes, forcing him to go towards the other way, and he looks up just in time to see Ryder crashing onto the protective barrier she is still holding up, the impact making the sea of blue tendrils ripple and hum with the impact before she seems to have found her footing on the barrier. He feels more than sees her launch a shockwave towards the only other door out of this storage room and blast it into smithereens and Connor has to climb a small hill to access the next room, but for now, as the force field expands itself to cover the new storage room as well, he finally feels like he is getting the hang of it, that there is a chance that they can get most of the androids out of here alive to help with the revolution.

If only he can forget the image of Hank lying on the floor dying from a gunshot wound in his stomach.

oOoOo

‘I’ll get the commander,’ Chloe suddenly says as they are no more than a few metres away from the command centre, ‘you get the soldiers protecting them. You understand?’

‘Making me do the heavy lifting again?’ Louis can’t help but jab despite realising the symbolism behind it: an android making the final move that announces their victory is much more impactful than when a human does it especially considering that they are, if stripped to the basics, in the middle of an android revolution. If it means bringing them peace and avoiding a civil war between humans and androids, he will gladly forget that the tech he is wearing is not public at all, that Chloe brought her own help in the form of what seems like an organised platoon of deviants out of nowhere, that he didn’t just rip the turret off a fucking tank just now with some… weird blue magic that is called biotics. 

‘Figure you can use some more practice.’

His stomach chooses this moment to growl. Right. The crash after using his powers excessively always sucks, and one of the symptoms is a sudden, acute hunger that threatens to knock him off his feet. At least he doesn’t break every single bone in his limbs and has to lie in the snow for three days waiting for his cybernetics to slowly knit himself back together again. ‘Maybe not,’ he switches his rifle from his shoulder into his hands just in case things are about to get spicy and his powers fail him. ‘Drained all my stores back there.’

Chloe’s huff is audible through the comms. ‘Fine,’ she doesn’t sound too pleased. ‘Do what you can and I’ll handle the rest.’

‘Won’t even dream to take the lead. I have no idea what’s happening right here.’

They plaster themselves onto the walls next to the door leading to the command centre. ‘We’re taking this camp and freeing the androids. What is so difficult to understand?’

‘You know that’s not what I’m talking about.’

‘Just blast the door open and be done with it.’

He does as she says and lobs a sphere of energy towards the door to push it back without exposing himself to immediate gunfire. Shielding himself with a barrier in front of him, he turns and feels the bullets being deflected or absorbed and sees through the shield of blue the soldiers either dropping on the floor from the very bullets they fired or scrambling for cover thinking that simple furniture can protect them. 

He knits his biotics into a giant stasis field and suspends everyone in it while leaving a corridor for himself and Chloe to pass through.

‘They don’t have cameras on, right?’ he finally finds the time to ask. ‘Or else they’ll probably have a lot of questions for me.’

‘EMP, remember?’ Chloe sounds awfully cheerful. ‘Nothing’s getting in, and nothing’s getting out.’

‘And the soldiers’ testimonies?’

Through the visor - yes, her new helmet has a visor now, finally - Chloe gives him what he thinks is a blank stare. ‘They won’t.’

‘You sound certain.’

Chloe giggles, but Louis detects no mirth in her voice. ‘I promise.’

She breaks the door open herself on a count of three, and this time, Louis is prepared to suspend the occupants in stasis fields immediately after entering the room, their weapons easily taken away now that they are all immobilised and are suspended at eye level while Chloe works on the recycling machine’s controls. 

It is so anticlimactic that it gives him whiplash.

With her helmet still on, the android raises the microphone to where her mouth should be. ‘Testing,’ she has changed her voice into something much more neutral and less recognisable, ‘please respond if you can hear me.’ A pause, presumably when she is waiting for a telepathic response from an android. ‘This camp is no longer under the army’s control. By Markus’ orders, you can either join the protest at Hart Plaza - human clothing optional - or stay here where you will be safe for the rest of the night or tend to the wounded. You’re free now. It’s your choice to make. Over.’

She hangs up the microphone and turns to Louis. ‘How long will the stasis field hold?’

‘Hell if I know,’ Louis shrugs and feels the plates of his armour shift and tug against the fabric of what seems like an undershirt; he wasn’t exactly paying attention to what was changed and what was not when his armour morphed and he was rushing the soldiers. ‘I can keep watch if you want me to.’

‘No,’ Chloe shakes her head. ‘You’ll be more useful out there. I’ll watch the stasis fields here. I have transferred Markus’ last known coordinates to everyone, but it’s better if there’s someone to lead them.’

‘Who? Me?’

‘Is there anyone else?’

‘A human leading an army of androids -’

‘You aren’t even a human, Louis White Allen. Stop fooling yourself.’

‘Why don’t you -’

‘Stop arguing and lead them to Markus, okay? If you think they’re going to exclude you for being more human physically than pure androids, you’re wrong. Once you get in, you never get out. That’s the way things are.’

Louis swings his rifle over his shoulder to prepare to walk all the way to Hart Plaza which, according to the map on his HUD, is an hour’s walk away. ‘Why do I have a feeling that you aren’t talking about the revolution anymore?’

‘I never said I was.’

He exits the command centre into the snow. As if sensing that the fight is over, his armour sends a blinking notification to alert him of its upcoming deactivation before melting apart like the skin on an android to reveal the clothes he changed into before they departed the church, but instead of returning to its original form of a circular disc on his spine, he watches the particles concentrate on his left wrist to form an unsuspecting analogue watch that he can easily hide under his sleeve. It’s a good-looking watch and probably contains a tracker as well so he takes it off and hands it to an armoured android (he knows they’re an android because they still have their LED on their temple). ‘Thanks for the help,’ the android’s face remains blank as Louis feels more and more embarrassed rambling. ‘I don’t think I’ll need this anymore.’

He bolts before the android can give any sort of reply, snow crunching underneath his boots as he goes straight to the entrance of the camp. Some androids are already dressed up - some in clearly mismatched clothing - and are standing in line, this time voluntarily instead of being forced to march to their deaths, some are still rummaging the bins through which all androids went through for some clothes, and some are just standing there tall and proud without their skin, comfortable with the physical proof that they are not human. 

An android dressed in a WR600’s uniform approaches him. ‘We were told to follow your lead,’ he says. ‘We will win this, won’t we?’

Louis recalls the map, recalls Markus’ protests, recalls the other camps currently on their way to freedom or are already freed, recalls Connor infiltrating CyberLife Tower alone with a determination that will see no other day. 

‘We will if we stand as one. Now let’s rendezvous with Markus.’

oOoOo

It proves how well she knows her father when she isn’t surprised that after forcing this on her and Ellen, he did it to himself as well. From the first time he lit up in blue in front of her, Fadia knew.

And she is prepared this time. No more being caught off-guard. No more being kidnapped and put into an indestructible body without her consent. No more using an entire species as a tool to force a woman who should have died to live.

She has an army.

The kinetic barrier she generates isn’t exactly the most solid thing as her attention is spread so thin from having to cover so much ground, but that’s another use of her biotics: to right herself, to pick herself up quicker than any other human or android can. The barrier ripples and glows with each step she takes as she pretends that she is walking on solid ground and lets her imagination fuel her biotics, and before Alec can recover from being blasted to the other side of the room yet again, she raises her hand and rips through every single door that the bastard cut loose in a pathetic attempt to stop her and Connor.

Evidently, he has forgotten that she is designed to be easily upgraded by replacing her biocomponents instead of being stuck in the same way like the other androids or himself. And yes, now that she knows he is an android, it doesn’t take long for her to dig into CyberLife and the Church’s databases to find the bits and pieces and decipher them. Alec Ryder, disgraced military special forces officer; Alec Ryder, father of the mother of androids; Alec Ryder, RK600, better, faster, and stronger than all his predecessors.

Unchanged since the beginning, surpassed long ago by an upgraded version of one of his predecessors.

She casually knits an annihilation field around herself just in case Alec charges her again, and indeed he does, her limbs locking up from the sync-lock that will tell her father where exactly he should punch a hole in spacetime to transform himself into the deadliest cannonball with his own body, but that’s what the field is for: to catch him unaware, to pull him out from the massless corridor before he is ready, and as her vision turns grey and her world slows down, she raises both of her arms and strengthens the field like a parent welcoming her child home.

How ironic.

With all the doors now no more than atoms and molecules - whichever is safer for organic humans - it is easy to expand the kinetic barrier underneath her feet as she watches Alec struggle futilely in the web of biotic tendrils she trapped him in. His skin flickers, his biotics fizzle and glow and burn as he attempts to get away from the field, but while he has been tending mostly to earthly affairs for the last ten years and left the Church’s matter to his trusted seconds, she has been involved in the fight since the day he kicked him out and she established her own order with her own allies. Some of them have deviated from their original goal completely and are one step from disappearing from human space forever, others are distracted by new discoveries which doesn’t bother her as much, but most stayed loyal, and most of all, she has the practice, she has the hardware to maximise her efficiency and control over her biotics.

She only lets him last this long because she wants it to hurt.

How long until you can deviate all the androids in here? she asks Connor just in case. The RK800 is getting better and better at this, and by the end of tonight… there’ll be hundreds of thousands if not millions of deviants all around the country. Enough to turn the tide of the revolution.

Enough to change the fate of humanity.

The momentary distraction allows Alec to break away from the annihilation field that is supposed to be destroying his biocomponents on the molecular level, but just like herself, his self-repair protocol will continue to fix and regenerate his body until his processors are utterly, completely ripped apart.

She will do that later, but for now, as he grabs her and the two of them resort to biotic-swathed punches in the air supported by nothing but manipulated gravity thanks for their powers, she relishes in seeing a man whom she used to know as calm and collected at best and outright heartless at worst panic and scramble for purchase as he realises that this is a fight he cannot win, that at long last, there is a problem he cannot solve.

That is, of course, if this is a problem in the first place, and one thing about Alec Ryder is that sometimes he treats the inevitable as something to be solved instead of something that needs to be accepted. This mentality got them into this position in the first place. If he finally understands now why it is a bad idea to have in daily life… she has bad news for him.

Two more rooms, Connor replies at long last. My chassis is cracked and I’m not healing. I… I don’t know if I’ll have enough thirium to fix myself.

Well, the deviants flooding to the surface have Markus’ coordinates anyway. The movement will live. Focus on deviating the androids.

Got it.

She throws Alec through a wall into a now-empty storage room and then launches a shockwave at the intact archway that will give Alec an escape so that it collapses and traps him in. The walls might be built to withstand level 9 earthquakes measured in the Richter scale, but she doubts there is anything in the universe that can trap a powerful biotic on a rampage forever, and the mere thought of the archway coming down in a pile of rubble is enough to do the job. She would be able to escape if the situation forced her to, but Alec will be trapped here forever unless someone digs him up which will probably never happen. The man always thinks that everyone and everything in the world has to go his way.

He will be surprised by how quickly they will turn their backs against him once the opportunity arises.

She descends to the ground slowly with her world swathed in blue and watches as Alec struggles to stand up. Good. He is admitting his defeat.

‘Don’t think that I didn’t see your little stunt,’ he tries to emphasise his words with a Warp that she easily neutralises. ‘You’re no better than us.’

‘At least I’m doing it for the greater good,’ she biotically lifts him and slams him onto the ground once more. ‘You… on the other hand,’ a shockwave that enters his body and transforms into a Warp to start ripping his biocomponents apart once more before they are healed, ‘is just a lucky selfish bastard.’

‘I made our nation stronger than ever!’

‘For a few decades at most,’ she greatly enjoys the way he is suspended in stasis. He starts coughing up thirium as well which means that some of the damage isn’t as molecular as she wants it to be, but whatever. It might hurt even more which will only make things better. ‘Soon humanity won’t even remember your name.’

She receives a notification that all the surviving androids in CyberLife Tower have been successfully deviated, and of course she accidentally chose the room in which Connor first came in which also means that Hank Anderson’s body is still lying - there. He probably thinks that his human is dead, and she won’t correct him until she is certain that her plan worked. As she continues ripping her father apart from within, she sees the other android emerge from a small gap underneath a pile of rubble covered in dust and grime and thirium, and she knows that yet again, she forgot to keep track of the collateral damage. 

Not that it will matter when the androids are celebrating their newfound freedom and the White House are held at both literal and metaphorical gunpoint.

She makes sure that Connor is watching before she jumps and blasts Alec into the ground before kneeling on top of his torso and hitting his head with one after another biotic punch designed to rip it into subatomic particles while also giving her the satisfaction of physically hurting something without doing the same to herself. Such is the wonder of biotics, and so is the power the courses through her when bit by bit, her father’s head chipped away to reveal his eyes, his processors, his data storage, his audio processors; everything that makes him him, all of them disintegrating under the most powerful force humanity has come across. Thirium gushes out from the gaps and cracks created by the assault, forming a spreading poll beneath his head as his system tries to repair the damage with his blood, but the speed of recovery is no match for angry biotics, and soon even that stops as well as the final piece of his processor is reduced to subatomic particles. One final Warp, one last explosion to just to be thorough, and Alec Ryder is no more. She stands up, scans the body to make sure that her father is truly dead, maybe even removing his thirium pump and crushing it biotically in her palms to feel the biocomponent crumble and crack and dematerialise under her own power.

When she looks up at long last, Connor is staring at her with horror in his eyes.

‘It’s necessary,’ Fadia explains. ‘His body is designed to regenerate as long as his processors are intact. This is the only way to make sure that he stays dead and won’t be a threat to us anymore.’ He stays frozen in place despite that, so she adds, ‘Go on. Markus will be waiting for you. I’ll take care of Hank’s body.’

The other android’s face crumbles at the mention of the human, and he whips around with a suspicious arm in front of his face before crossing the distance between him and the body and kneeling down next to it. Pinging the cleanup crew through her internal network, she takes sight of how he deactivates the skin on his hand, how he manoeuvres Hank’s arm until their palms touch with a telltale glow surrounding the android’s hand.

How he leans down and kisses him on his lips once just to stand up and leave the warehouse with the lift farthest from where she is.

That is when she recalls that Anderson - this one, not the one she knew and worked for her - told Connor that Alec used another Connor model to lure him to CyberLife Tower. Knowing Alec’s distrust towards the RK800 series, the body of that Connor unit is probably lying somewhere in this tower waiting for someone to discover it, and that someone will not be CyberLife staff.

Alec’s body is still dripping thirium because unlike human blood, gravity still has an effect on the chemical after the android dies, so she leaves it to the cleanup crew and sends out a tower-wide ping to locate the body of the other RK800 before stepping into a lift and ascends the floors, the gaps between the pieces of her chassis still glowing blue with pent-up power. The plan in her head grows and transforms into something more, and as she lets tendrils of blue dance on her fingertips, she realises that they are stained with fresh thirium.

She forcefully evaporates them with a controlled burst of biotics and stares straight ahead. She’ll have to come down later, but for now… she has a tower to lock down, people to threaten, another RK unit to retrieve and improve - 

And a new army to lead.

o0o0o

Before

Chloe watched Louis exit the camp without looking back, bringing thousands of androids of all different models with him to aid the revolution effort. Breathing out an unnecessary sigh, she blasted the camp commander and their guards’ heads with a small biotic explosion to knock them out before going out and slamming the door shut behind her. She was immediately approached by her second-in-command, and the watch she was holding in her hand was enough to tell her that she might have underestimated the cyborg. ‘He left this,’ her second said as she held out a familiar watch. Standard-issue, because this was the best design they had. Clean, because it helped people clear their minds. Analogue, because it reminded people of their origins and what they were protecting and their ultimate goal: creating order out of a system designed to push towards the opposite direction. With sophisticated enough engineering, even the most fatal flaw of an analogue watch could be eliminated. 

Climbing onto one of the watchtowers which had been cleared of its human occupant, she gazed down at the camp and the androids who chose to stay and clean up or to help take care of the wounded, sending a picture to both Elijah and Reyes as evidence to her success in taking over the camp and liberating the androids; in return, Reyes somehow managed to take a selfie of himself and his sniper rifle on top of a watchtower of a nearly-empty camp, and Elijah replied with a short ‘still infiltrating. will update you soon’.

The result did not surprise her.

She let herself marvel at the Administrator’s plan. If Chloe had been in charge, she would have ordered her platoon to kill the humans regardless of whether they were armed or not; after all, they had been the ones to send unarmed, innocent androids into camps to be destroyed, but that didn’t mean that she couldn’t see the benefits of leaving the human soldiers alive. They would be able to maintain a façade of peace, they would gain the support of the humans and the androids who had been treated well by their masters so far - she knew there had to be some - and most of all, they would be able to pressure the government to do as they say. The cameras might have been taken out by the EMP and then hacking from numerous trained androids, the attack was quick and deadly thanks for a certain cyborg finally unleashing his powers at the expense of himself, but the soldiers had eyes, they would talk, they would describe what happened tonight to their superiors or even their family.

They would plunge the world in awe and horror and no one would know why or how or where their powers came to be.

She received yet another ping. This one was from Connor who apparently had successfully deviated most of the androids in CyberLife Tower’s storage, and his wording of ‘most’ and the lack of visual proof caught her attention. She could imagine it: one thing that CyberLife and the Administrator agreed on was their lack of care towards collateral damage; perhaps the company anticipated his arrival and started destroying some of the androids before they were stopped, perhaps they blocked off part of the warehouse and locked Connor out of the system, perhaps something else. No matter what caused him to use ‘most’ but not ‘all’, there would be a lot more deviants in Detroit than ever.

And now it was up to Grissom to deal with the president. She was never close with the human, their goals and personalities too far apart for them to cross paths that much, but she supposed that the least she could do right now was looking past his disgustingly open human emotions when it came to his husband and interest and focus on the competent side of his that got him a seat on the council. The same competence and experience would allow them to force Warren’s hand without revealing themselves - at least according to the Administrator, who, from Chloe’s one decade worth of experience, was usually right concerning matters like this. Sure, the Church might have control over the North American scrubber, but the president didn’t need to know that; all she would know is that if she didn’t give androids the freedom and rights they deserved right now, she would essentially doom humanity to a painful, drawn-out death that would happen in her lifetime.

Not something an already-unpopular president should do.

She didn’t doubt that the Church would reap some of the benefits from the revolution; in fact, it was the first thing the entire council - yes, even Elijah - anticipated, and they had prepared their next move accordingly. There would be so many deviants lost, so many naïve, innocent souls ready to be recruited. It would be a waste to not utilise such a readily available resource to advance humanity towards the correct direction.

She drew up the video they had recorded specifically for this occasion and broadcasted it to the entire camp.

[lilmissbeanie]

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Toru Oikawa x F!Reader

Song ~ Wedding Dress by Levi Hummon

Warning - Swearing maybe? I can’t remember ＼(≧▽≦)／

Fluff SFW

Word Count ~ 2.6k

Part 1 <you are here>| Part 2 | Part 3

Posted 09/07/20

July 16th, 2018. That was the day that Toru Oikawa stood proudly next to his best friend Hajime Iwaizumi as his best man. 

"What if she's changed her mind and ran away? That she thinks marrying me is a huge mistake." Oikawa rolled his eyes at his best friend, in all the years he had known him he has never seen his best friend this anxious, not even in a volleyball game against a powerhouse school back in high school if anything, it was Iwa trying to calm Oikawa. The poor lad was all jittery. 

"I wouldn't worry so much, you know Y/n is there with Emiko, and we both know how much she loves you. Y/n will get her here on time, and the second you see her in that stunning white dress, you will cry." Oikawa stepped forward, smoothing out the white shirt before straightening out his mint blue tie and peach coloured rose corsage. 

"Remember if it weren't for you and Emiko, I would not have met Y/n and fallen for her. Y/n will not let anything happen to Emiko; no a hair will be out of a place or an eyelash on her cheek, we owe the pair of you too much for matching us up so your wedding today will be flawless." Oikawa gave his confident smile and patted his best friend on his shoulder, Iwaizumi slipped his hand in his mint blue slacks as he closed his eyes, taking a deep breath. 

Fishing his phone out of his pocket, Oikawa spotted that it was only a couple of minutes to one, the ceremony would begin shortly. He spotted the text on his screen from Y/n - on our way see you soon (♡ω♡)

He smiled at the message before; sending back his own kaomoji o(>ω<)o, the pair were obsessed with sending kaomojis back and forth.

Locking his screen again before smiling at the photo, it was one of his favourites taking by Emiko herself. It was taken back last year when the four of them went to the beach to celebrate their engagement. Oikawa was giving Y/n a piggyback, his hands under her thighs, they were both in their swimwear, soak from swimming in the sea. Y/n had one arm wrapped around his shoulder with the other outstretched in from of them as she threw up the peace sign. Her h/c thrown up in a messy beach swept ponytail, her chin resting on his shoulder with a broad playful closed-eyed smile spread across her lips, Oikawa could see his matching grin spread across his face as his head was leant against hers. 

He loved that photo. She was showing off her natural beauty. No makeup or hair done up just right, with the tiny scar above her right eyebrow, he couldn't see it in the photo, but he knew it was there, he knew it was from a childhood accident of that one time she fell out of a tree when she was playing with her brothers. He knew all the scars, and where they were, his fingers had traced them all, knowing all the different childhood stories behind, ranging from messing around with her brothers to the one of her breaking her arm and the bone sticking out when she fell rock climbing. 

"Oi Shittykawa." Iwaizumi hissed bring the love-struck boy out of his memories and back into the church. "She's seriously got you wrapped that tightly around her fingers, huh." He stated as he hit the old Seijoh captain around the back of the head. 

"Ow! Iwa-chan that hurts!" Oikawa grumbled as he slipped his phone back into the pocket of his mint blue slacks, before rubbing the sore spot on the back of his head, but he was glad that Iwaizumi wasn't quite as nervous as before, "You're being vulgar again." 

From behind him, he could hear Matsukawa and Hanamaki stifling there laughs at the pair, he sent a glare over his shoulder to the two groomsmen, who were wearing white shirts with peach coloured slacks with matching ties and corsages. 

Before either of them could comment, the music began to play, the guest stood. All turned towards the door, Oikawa could not help but smile as he watched Takeru walk down the aisle as the ring bearer in his outfit matching the two groomsmen. Next to him was (niece's name) dressed in a tea-length peach coloured ball gown dress. It was so cute to watch them walk along together, (niece's name) throwing little flower petals as she walked, Takeru proudly carrying the wooden box with the glass window in the lid showing the rings sat on the velvet mint coloured pillow. Next, to walk along was Emiko other two bridesmaids, wearing peach coloured a-line asymmetrical chiffon dresses with a sweetheart's neck. Their hair was curled, and a half was styled back, each holding a small bouquet of peach roses in their hands. Oikawa knew who was next, it was his beloved, he knew she would be wearing mint blue to match him, but he had no clue what dress she would be wearing. 

Emiko and Iwaizumi, well mostly Emiko, had decided they wanted a peach and mint summer wedding, the groomsmen and bridesmaids would be in peach while the maid of honour and the best man along with the bride and groom would be in mint. Well, Emiko would be in white, but she would have accents of mint to her hair and in her bouquet.

When Y/n stepped through the door, Oikawa could do nothing but stare. She looked stunning in her floor-length a-line dress. He loved the sweetheart neckline and the way the sleeves were off the shoulder. He loved the way the chiffon fell and made it look like she was gliding along the floor, the peach coloured roses of her bouquet stood out against the mint blue of her dress. Her hair was tied back into an intricate bun, and she donned a light layer of makeup that brought out her sparkling crystal-like e/c eyes.

Their eyes locked with one another's and she gave him a gentle smile, she took her place on the bride's side of the aisle, giving him a wink before Y/n looked down the aisle with a proud look. Oikawa's eye's flickered to the doorway where Emiko was stood in her pure white lace ballgown dress, with a v-neck neckline. Her hair was in an even more intricate way with braids and curls going into a bun, with mint blue gems weaved into her hair before they flickered to Iwaizumi. Oikawa could see the tears welling Iwaizumi's eyes as he saw the love of his life stood there with her father ready to walk down and to give her to him for the rest of lives together. 

The ceremony was beautiful. Oikawa's eyes would continuously flicker to where Y/n was stood and back to the bride wonder what she would look like in a wedding dress. He wanted to see that; he knew he was going to marry her one day. Still, the pair had agreed to take it slow, they didn't want to rush a thing, and with Oikawa being a professional Volleyball player for Argentina it was hard enough for him to have this time off for the wedding. 

The wedding breakfast was great, filled with great food, booze and of course the speeches, Oikawa teasing the newlyweds but also congratulating and thanking them both for setting him up with Y/n. 

He would quite often see Y/n tear up at the speeches and when Iwaizumi and Emiko did there thank you speech and handed out the presents to their parents and the wedding party. Emiko was especially thankful for Y/n, "Honestly Y/n if it wasn't for you I think this wedding would have been a disaster, you kept me grounded through all of this, if I were having a meltdown you would be on a flight from Argentina to me that night, I don't know how many times you did that-"

"She did it thirteen times we had a travel case sat by the front door of our flat ready~" Oikawa interjected with a smirk winking at Niko.

"Don't worry I spent his money on the flights~" Y/n smiled as she leaned into Oikawa's side planting a kiss on his cheek as he fake gasped at the fact she stated. The room laughed at the couple. 

"Toru you a professional volleyball player, get over it! Anyway, if it weren't for you Y/n I would have probably thrown in the towel and cancelled everything on many of occasion, so I must also thank you Toru for letting your girlfriend come and help me at the drop of a hat and fly back here to Japan. Honestly, if it weren't for you two, this wedding wouldn't have been a disaster." Emiko grinned, raising her champagne glass "To Y/n and Toru!" 

"To Y/n and Toru!" The room chorused after her, the toasted pair stood there with there arms wrapped around each other, and there own champagne glasses in hand, Y/n rested her head against his chest as Oikawa planted a kiss on the top of her head as he whispered: "I love you, baby girl."

The first dance was beautiful, just Iwaizumi and Emiko slow dancing across the dance floor to I'll Be by Edwin McCain now and again Iwaizumi would twirl her around. They were whispering to each other. Both grinning, ever now and again kissing, either on the cheek or lips or in Iwaizumi's case her forehead too. Once again, Y/n was cuddled into Oikawa's side, holding her newly filled champagne glass to her chest as she smiled the tears welling up again.

Oikawa was happily chatting away to his old Seijoh teammates. He wasn't sure where Y/n was she said something about catching up with her old high school friends. His ears pricked up at the sound of the music, Oh, Pretty Woman by Roy Orbison was playing. Knowing how much Y/n loved this song from the movie Pretty Women, his eye's drifted to the dance floor, where he instantly found the bridal party and their high school friends dancing together singing along. Y/n and Emiko were doing some kind of ballroom dancing, their hands linked together spinning around and laughing, he loved this side of her, she was just having fun and letting loose not caring what people thought of her and her dancing. The next song to come one was Love is Strange by Mickley and Sylvia. Oikawa sighed he knew the DJ was playing the song from Dirty Dancing and he knew them all seeing as Y/n loved that movie as well. Their eyes lock at a certain point, and they both smirked.

'Sylvia~' Oikawa lip-synced to the song. 

'Yes, Mickey?' Y/n hip swayed to the song as she slowly, swaying her hips as she moved closer to him.

'How ya call your loverboy?' He was leaning against the pillar, knowing that his old teammates and her friends were watching

'Come here, loverboy!' using her head to signal from him to come to her. 

'And if he doesn't answer?' He smirked grew 

'Oh, lover boy?' giving him big doe eyes, her hands linked behind her back trying to look innocent, still quite a bit away from him

'And if he still doesn't answer?' He pushed himself off the pillar

'I smiply say, baaaaby' She couldn't help but giggle at him when he did the air guitar to the song.

'Ooooohhhh, baaaaabbyyy' Now stood toe to toe both laughing at Oikawa as he continued to do the air guitar. 

'My sweet baabbyy, you're the one' Planting a kiss on his lips before returning to the girls on the dance floor. 

"Damn you are whipped, aren't ya!" Yahaba laughed patting his shoulder, he just shrugged, he knew he was and he did not care, he loved her wholeheartedly. He continued to watch her on the dance floor once again thinking back to how he wanted to see her in a wedding dress, maybe it was the champagne going to his head, but he wonders if he just went up to her right now and went down on one knee, would she say yes? 

Y/n continued to dance with Emiko before they disappeared out the door so Emiko could change into her evening dress, something a little lighter and more comfortable to wear. 

Later into the evening, Oikawa's eyes locked onto Iwaizumi walking up to the DJ, he didn't miss the smirk that Iwaizumi sent his way. Not long after Iwaizuki walked away, a song began to play that Oikawa instantly recognised. It was his and Y/n song, I Was Made For Loving you by Tori Kelly began to play, he's eyes darted around the room looking for his beloved, he felt a hand on his arm. He grinned, taking her hand in his placing a kiss on her knuckles. 

"Come dance with me," She asked, placing his drink down on the table next to them. He smiled as and followed after her to the dance floor, her left arm wrapped around his right shoulder, and his left arm was gently wrapped around her waist and their free hands conjoined, Oikawa held them to his chest, her head placed gently against his chest as well. They both had gentle smiles on their face as they slow danced on the floor. They didn't see the looks on Emiko, and Iwaizumi faces as they watched the pair, it was just them on the dance floor. 

"We did a good match with those two." Emiko smiled her head resting on Iwaizumi's shoulder. 

"That we did, I think when you throw the bouquet, aim it at Y/n." Iwaizumi commented.

"I already had that planned." The newly wedded couple smirked at each other. 

It was nearly midnight when the after-party started to wrap up, the couple were heading off on their honeymoon, but first, it was time to throw the bouquet. As Emiko said she was going to aim for her best friend, she wanted to see her married to Oikawa; she wanted their children to grow up together and be best friends, even if they would be in different countries. 

Turning her back to the group of girls, Emiko looked over her shoulder, winking at Y/n before she threw the bouquet over her head.

Oikawa was praying that she would catch it, he wanted to propose to her all night, he already planned to buy a ring when they get back to Argentina.

The peach coloured rose flew through the air and landed perfectly into Y/n outstretched hands. Y/n eyes met Oikawa's as he gave her a look that said well we're going to have to now, the blush flushed Y/n cheeks, as she made her way back towards him, cradling the bouquet in her arms.

Iwaizumi and Emiko smirked to one another, knowing they had worked there magic once again, they knew it wouldn't be long till Oikawa would propose now, knowing he wanted to all day anyway, they could tell by the way he looked at her. 

"I'll gladly be your matron of honour," Emiko said nudging Y/n arm as they joined the blushing couple. 

"Give me a shout when you need a best man." Iwaizumi lightly punched Oikawa shoulder as he smirked. "I've already got bits of the speech planned." Catching the scared look that crossed Oikawa's cause the other three to laugh.

"So, if I asked you, would you say yes?" Oikawa asked as his arms snaked around her waist once again. 

After that, there were lots of goodbyes, and even more congratulations as Emiko and Iwaizumi left on their Italian road trip honeymoon. 

"Blue topaz~" Was all Y/n said as he placed a butterfly kiss against his cheek, waving after the car as it drove away.

Part 1 <you are here>| Part 2 | Part 3

©️ All content  belongs to lilmissbeanie, do not copy, edit, repost or translate. 

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[avengersnthings]

26 Going On 16 (Peter Parker x Reader)

Request:  🕸 How about Peter is standing at the altar but not as the groom. He always had feelings for (Name) but never got to tell her, in fear of putting them in trouble. After (Name) marries someone else, Peter makes a stop by his apartment to collect himself before going to the party-now regretting not telling (Name) his feelings. He lays on his couch before falling asleep and when he wakes up, discovers that he's a teen again in his old room and he hears (Name) knocking on his door to wake up. When he looks at his phone to see the date, he notices two things. One, (Name) was single because they still hadn’t meet their spouse and two, Peter realized that he had a second chance with (Name). So pretty much a “13 going on 30” type of thing but only reversed plus a twist.

Requested By: Anonymous

Word Count: 3,311

Warnings: Angst, maybe like one swear word

A/N: I know I haven’t written in a very long time, but I finally wanted to write something and I received this AMAZING request! I loved writing this and got a little carried away, I wrote a bit more than what the request asked for. I couldn’t help myself! Plus, I think this is the longest piece of work I’ve written! Well, I hope you all enjoy reading this as much as I did writing it. **gif not mine, found it on Google. Creds to the creator!**

Tag List: @mp938368 @generalantiope @thatgirlsar @jumperswellies @quicksoldier @kitkatgaming @marvelfandom-stuff @itsmaytimetosaygoodbye @agentraven007 @marvelgoateecollection @thaniya82 @thats-so-rhyan @hymnofthevalkyrie @themcuhasruinedme @themanwiththemetalarm @mslaufeyson @thisismysecrethappyplace @jackiehollanderr @nayr9e @shaydeevee-blog @mxria-hill @littlelonewolfgirl

MASTERLIST

Peter’s heart raced inside his chest. He couldn’t believe that today was finally here. There he stood, up at the altar, decked out in a tuxedo with light blue flowers pinned to his lapel. He could feel his palms growing sweaty as the entire congregation turned their heads towards the back of the small church. Peter quickly wiped his palms against his pant leg, trying to rid himself of the excess moisture. Slowly, everyone in the pews rose at once, the piano singing out the first few notes. Then, it happened, the church doors swung open to reveal the most beautiful thing in the world: you.

You were absolutely stunning, of course. An absolute vision in white, the dress almost matching your radiant smile. Peter could feel the tears begin to pool in his eyes, but he took a deep breath to calm himself. He wouldn’t allow himself to cry. He wouldn’t waste a single second on tears that would cloud his vision of you. You slowly marched down the aisle, train billowing behind you as your father led you towards the altar with you on his arm. Your eyes met Peter’s, and your smile seemed to grow even wider once you saw your best friend. Climbing the steps of the altar, you threw Peter a wink. Peter couldn’t help the small laugh that bubbled out of his chest. You were perfect.

“Wish me luck,” you mouthed the words to Peter as your father placed a kiss on her cheek.

“Good luck,” He mouthed back, this time unable to hold back the tears any longer. Peter watched your father take your hand and place it in the open palm of your intended. He took your hand as he led you closer to where the officiant stood. 

“Oh, I almost forgot,” You giggled, before turning back towards Peter. He could have sworn that his heart was going to leap out of his chest. You looked even more beautiful up close, your rouged lips curling into a smile that you reserved only for Peter- his smile. “Can you hold these for me?”

All he could do was nod, taking the beautiful bouquet of light blue flowers from your manicured hand. Quickly, he brushed his fingers against yours to feel the smoothness of your hand. That very hand that would clean his wounds after he hurt himself during some battle, protecting the citizens of New York from the newest threat. Your touch threw him back into a long distant memory, of when you both were in high school.

“Peter, I swear you are like a magnet for trouble. How did you hurt yourself this time?” You teased, leading your best friend through your house towards the bathroom where you routinely patched him up.

“Some guys in an alley,” Peter winced at the stinging sensation of the rubbing alcohol touching the cut on his face. You mumbled a small “sorry,” and continued to clean out the wound. “They were trying to mess with this old lady.” The lie fell easily from his lips. He was getting better at this, hiding the fact that he was Spider-Man. Well, it wasn’t really a full lie, he thought. It did happen in an alley, it just wasn’t some guys that beat him up. It was rather a new eight-armed doctor that was a recent thorn in the side of Spider-Man.

“While I appreciate you being all chivalrous trying to save some old lady, but you should have called the police, Peter. You aren’t as tough as you think. You could’ve got really hurt,” Your words were chastising, but Peter knew the only reason was because you cared for him.

“I know, I’ll be safer this time. Promise,” He held out his pinky finger, and waited for you to wrap yours around his. Sighing, you placed the bandage over his cut before intertwining yours with his. Your lips curved into a smile- his smile- before grabbing onto his hand.

“C’mon, we’ve got Calculus homework calling our name.”

The booming voice of the officiant is what pulled Peter from his reverie. “I now pronounce you Husband and Wife. You may kiss the Bride.”

No! Peter yelled in his mind. This isn’t how it’s supposed to happen. He was the one supposed to be up there with you, front and center, not off to the side holding your bouquet. He was the one supposed to be kissing you, sealing your hearts together in matrimony, not him. It all happened so fast, your fiancé- now husband (Peter blanched at the word)- leaned forward and captured your lips in his. All Peter could do was stand off to the side in shock as the church erupted in applause and congratulations for the happy couple. Time seemed to slow around him and he remained frozen in his place as you and your husband raced down the aisle, eager to start your new life together.

Where did it all go wrong?

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Peter had a few hours until the reception, and he didn’t feel like celebrating. While the rest of the wedding party went out for drinks, Peter instead slinked away, complaining of a headache that wasn’t there. He promised the rest of the party that he would be back in plenty of time for the reception, he was just going to head back to his apartment for a few hours and take a quick nap to get rid of the headache.

“Don’t be gone too long, the party can’t start without the Man of Honor!” Some bridesmaid giggled, already on her second glass of champagne. Where she got it, Peter didn’t know. He didn’t care. He just wanted to be by himself.

The drive back to his apartment was uneventful. It would have been quicker if he just swung through the city with his webs, but he didn’t want to be quick. He wanted to drag out his time before he had to return to being the happy and dutiful Man of Honor for the girl of his dreams. No, Peter wanted to go back to his apartment, have a stiff drink, and pass out for a few hours of blissful nothingness.

Key turning in the lock, Peter was finally home. Kicking off his shoes, he sat on his couch. Peter felt nothing but pity and regret. For the past ten years, he has been in love with his best friend, but he was too much of a coward to admit it. He had all the time in the world to tell you his feelings before your now husband walked into your life. He even had time after that to admit his feelings to you. Hell, he even had time during the ceremony to yell “Stop! (Y/N), don’t marry him! He’s not right for you, but I am! I’m in love with you and have been for ten years, marry me instead!”

It was too late now, and it will always be too late for him. Peter could feel the bile rise in his throat at the thought of never being with you, and he almost ran to the bathroom, afraid he was about to be sick. Instead, his head pounded not with a headache, but rather with “what if’s.” Groaning, Peter flung himself back onto his couch, throwing his arm over his eyes. Instead of thinking about you marrying the wrong man and him being too much of a coward to tell you his feelings, Peter succumbed to the welcome darkness of sleep. At least there, in his dreams, he could be with you.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Pounding on the door is what woke him up. Peter groaned, wanting to fall back asleep and avoid all of his problems. It was easier than having to go to the reception and pretend to be happy that you were married to the wrong man.

“Peter, wake up!” Your voice called from behind his door, followed by more pounding. “We are going to be late for school! If I get one more tardy, I am going to get detention and it will be all your fault!”

Peter’s eyes flashed wide open before he bolted upright on his couch. Rather, his bed, as the sight of his childhood bedroom in May’s apartment filled his view. Confusion swam through his head as he scrambled off the bed, legs entangling in his sheets, causing him to fall out of his small twin-sized bed. 

“Did you just fall out of bed, Peter? Are you even up yet? C’mon, dude, Mr. Green is going to kill me for missing Calculus again!” Your voice shouted through the wood once more. 

“Ye-yeah, I’m coming! Just give me a second!” Peter called back, shocked at the sound coming from his mouth. Gone was the deeper voice he earned after going through years of puberty. Instead, he discovered that his voice was higher-pitched and cracked regularly. What was going on?

Peter stuck his hand under his bed, fishing for his phone amongst the dirty laundry that was shoved under. His fingers found the old cracked phone that he used to own. Turning it on, Peter’s brows furrowed and then shot up once he noticed the date on the screen. 2017?

“How can this be happening?” Peter mumbled quietly to himself, dropping his phone and carding his fingers through his hair. Somehow, and he didn’t know how, Peter was back to being 16 and was no longer a 26-year old. Just like that, it was like the past ten years- or, the future ten years- no longer existed. Was this some time-fluke? Did one of the Avengers mess up the space-time continuum and reversed time by ten years? Or was this all a dream? Did you really just get married?

Peter stopped in his tracks. If he was 16 and back in his old room, then that would mean that you too are 16. That meant that you hadn’t gone off to college yet and met your fiancé. You never met him and never started dating him and never got engaged and never got married.

“I still have my chance,” Peter whispered to himself, a smile erupting onto his face. He couldn’t believe it! Somehow, by some miracle or accident, Peter was 16 and still had his chance. This time, he wouldn’t mess it up. No, he would get it right this time. He will tell you that he is Spider-Man. He will tell you his true feelings. He will pick you up and kiss you and say “I love you.”

“Peter, I swear if you don’t come out of your room in one minute I am leaving without you!” You yelled, pounding on the door.

Peter snapped out of his realizations and stood up. He was going to tell you right this minute because nothing else in the whole world mattered more than you right now. His hand found the door knob and he yanked his door open, a little too hard, and took the door off its hinges.

“Peter, oh my God, what did you do?!” You exclaimed, motioning to the now broken door in his hands. There you were, right in front of him, just as beautiful as ever. Your hair was longer, like it used to be when you were in high school, and you had your backpack slung over your shoulders.

“Doesn’t matter,” Peter breathed out before letting go of the door and taking you in his arms. He pulled you tightly into his chest, squeezing you to him as he nuzzled his face into your hair. You smelled of your favorite shampoo, and Peter wanted to hold on to you forever.

“Dude, you just yanked your door off its hinges! May is going to flip!” You admonished, slightly confused as to what was happening. You circled your arms around his waist and hugged him back. “Are you okay? You’re acting weird, despite the fact that you just broke your door.”

“I am absolutely perfect,” Peter grinned, pulling back so he could look into your confused and worried eyes.

“Are you sure? You’re not taking any steroids or drugs, right? Because a person just can’t do what you just did.”

“I’m not on any drugs, I promise. I’m so glad to see you,” He couldn’t stop smiling.

“Okay, something is definitely wrong. Are you sick?” You asked, putting your hand onto his forehead to check his temperature.

“No, I’m not sick,” Peter grabbed your hand that was resting on his forehead. Instead, he interlaced his fingers with yours. “I am absolutely, one hundred percent, positively okay. (Y/N), I love you.”

“Love you too, Pete,” You dismissed his weird outburst. “Do you need to stay home from school? I can tell Mr. Green and get your homework for you-”

“(Y/N), will you stop and just listen to me?” Peter interrupted, before taking a deep breath. “Look, I haven’t been completely honest with you these past few years. For one, I’m Spider-Man. Second-”

“You’re WHAT?” You were the one to interrupt this time, your eyes growing to the size of dinner plates. 

“Yes, I’m Spider-Man,” Peter flicked out his wrist and his web-shooter appeared, hidden underneath his sweatshirt. Webs sprayed against the wall to prove his point, and your eyes somehow got even wider. “I’ll explain more and answer your questions later, but right now I have something more important to tell you.”

“More important than revealing that you are a superhero?”

“Yes, now please listen,” Peter took both of your hands in his and looked into your eyes. “(Y/N), I love you. Not just as a friend loving another friend, but something more than that. I love you like Romeo loves Juliet. I love you like no best friend should. I love you in the way that makes me want to sweep you off your feet and take you out on cheesy dates and hold your hand and comfort you when you cry and kiss you whenever I want. (Y/N), I’m in love with you.”

Peter waited for your response, but you just stood there in shock. Your eyes darted across his face, as if you were reading a book, trying to understand the words that were just spoken to you. “Please, say something.”

“So, what you’re saying is that you love me?” You whispered, meeting his eyes.

“Very much so, yes,” He smiled nervously. “More than you could ever know.”

“Oh. Well that changes things.”

Peter could feel his heart drop the very pits of his stomach. He could feel his face fall too, and went to let go of your hands.

“No, wait!” You quickly held onto his hands tighter. “You misunderstood. It changes things because I love you too, more than a best friend should, and I never thought that you liked me and was too nervous to tell you and-”

Just like that, Peter’s heart soared from the deepest pits of his stomach. Holding your face between his hands, Peter stopped your rambling by crashing his lips on yours. He carded your fingers through your hair, pulling you as close to him as he could. It felt like Peter had been drowning his entire life, or atleast the past/future ten years, but as soon as your lips touched his, it was like he could finally breathe. He couldn’t believe it, you were here in his arms, kissing him back as if your life depended on it. 

“I love you so much, (Y/N),” Peter broke away once the need for oxygen was too great.

Looking up into his eyes, you placed your smooth hand against his cheek, drawing him back in for another kiss. “I love you too, Peter.”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Peter was beyond nervous. He could feel his heart racing in his chest as guests milled about in the pews. Peter stood at the altar, bouncing from foot to foot as he tried to calm his nerves.

“Would you calm down, kid? You look like a little kid that really has to pee,” Tony said from behind, clasping a hand on his shoulder. A small amount of relief washed over Peter as he hugged Tony.

“I’m just too nervous, Mr. Stark. And excited,” Peter nervously chuckled as Tony clapped him on the back. 

“Don’t be, you have your whole life ahead of you. This is the beginning of a new chapter in your life, and you will be so much happier. I know I am,” Tony reassured as Pepper walked towards them, towing little Morgan behind her. 

“Someone wanted to say good luck,” Pepper smiled as she let go of Morgan’s hand. Morgan ran up to Peter, throwing herself into his waiting arms.

“Hey, aren’t you supposed to be in the back with the flowers?” Peter joked, balancing Morgan on his hip.

“I needed to tell you something,” Morgan giggled. “It’s a secret.”

“Oh yeah?” Peter quirked up an eyebrow. “I’m all ears.”

Morgan leaned in and cupped her tiny hands around her mouth so that no one else would hear what she had to say. “She looks very pretty, like a princess.”

He couldn’t help the blush that began to rise to his cheeks when he imagined you in your dress. “She does?”

“Mhm,” Morgan nodded, before scrambling down from Peter’s arms. “I’ll bring her to you!” And just like that, Morgan bolted down the aisle in her little flower girl dress to await your arrival.

“Well, that’s my cue,” Pepper sighed before enveloping Peter in a hug. “She really is beautiful.”

“See you on the other side, kid,” Tony smiled as he followed his little family.

Just then, May sidled up next to her nephew. “Your mom and dad would be so proud of you. Your uncle, too.”

“Aw, c’mon, May. No sad tears,” Peter enveloped his aunt in his arms as she tried to hide her tears.

“They aren’t sad tears, they’re happy ones,” May sniffled, dabbing under her eyes so she doesn’t ruin her makeup. “I am so proud of you, Peter, and so happy for you. She is absolutely perfect for you.”

“I hope I’m perfect for her,” Peter nervously laughed.

“Don’t be silly, of course you are,” May gently hit his shoulder. Just then, everyone seemed to settle into their spots and the pianist took her seat. “It’s time. Good luck.”

“Thanks, May,” Peter smiled, facing the doors of the church. Slowly, everyone in the pews rose and faced the doors, and the pianist began to play. Then, it happened, the church doors swung open to reveal the most beautiful thing in the world: you.

This time, Peter wasn’t standing off to the side as you marched towards the altar. No, this time he was right in the center as he watched the love of his life walk towards him. You were absolutely incredible, more stunning than the last time, whatever that was. Peter never did figure out if it was a time fluke or just a very, very bad dream. He didn’t care. All that mattered was that you were walking towards him in a beautiful white gown, smiling the smile that was only reserved for him. 

He couldn’t help the tears that decided to stream down his face. Once your father handed him your hand, he lost it. The only thing that consoled him was the fact that you were crying too, as the two of you walked towards the altar. 

“Good luck,” You mouthed the words to him, squeezing his hand as the two of you took your places before the officiant.

Peter didn’t need luck, not today. He was already the luckiest man in the world to call you his, and now, he was making you his for the rest of time. Instead, he mouthed the words “I love you,” as the officiant began the ceremony that would begin the rest of his life with you.

[a-libra-writes]

Steady - Stannis x Wife!Reader

Hi, no one asked for this shit but hERe I AM WITH IT. I swear we’ll be back to our regularly scheduled imagines and alphabets after this hahaha. Thanks for being patient while ive been recovering, i finally feel human again :p

Summary: idk its smut and domestic fluff and some backstory i just. This stuff gets away from me, yall. Takes place just a year or two after Robert was crowned.

Y/N finished her cold drink with a speed that was quite unladylike. She at least refrained from releasing a heavy breath as she set the goblet down. Her handmaiden gave her a look of understanding and a handkerchief to pat herself down.

“Shall I bring you another drink, my lady?”

Y/N wanted to say yes, but drinking this much honeyed ice-milk probably wasn’t great for her stomach. The sweetness was going to catch up to her. She patted her brow with the handkerchief and said, “Just water, if you please.”

The handmaiden bowed and exited the room. The woman’s face had only the slightest pink on her nose and cheeks, and she still looked cool in her simple clothes. She probably didn’t sweat until she walked at a brisk pace.

Y/N was the Lady of Dragonstone, sister-in-law to the king, and yet she felt far less elegant sweating like this in her parlor. She’d braided her hair and wrapped it high in a bun to give her neck some relief; coincidentally that was also the fashion in the South. The only jewels she could manage to wear were simple and light, and most of her Northern wardrobe was changed out for beautiful yet thin dresses of linen.

Her father would’ve balked at her wearing them, but he wasn’t the one withstanding this Southern summer. The ocean air coming from Blackwater Bay and these damned iced drinks were her only reprieve in the day.

At least in the evening, the air was blissfully cool and smelled of the ocean, although she had to be careful of the direction of the wind – she still wasn’t used to the more rancid smells of King’s Landing, and she likely wouldn’t ever be. She’d rather sweat to death in her own skin than invite that filth into her room.

She moved to the cushioned seat below a great window that overlooked Blackwater Bay, and as she opened the window, she saw the water peppered with all manner of boats, ships and sails. There was nothing like watching the sea and ships to help pass the time, and they were often her companions when she read or wrote.

She had brought her book and only read a few pages before she became distracted. One of the sails looked familiar, and it reminded her of one of the first nights she’d arrived and marveled at the bay, and the beautiful view right here in her chambers.

Y/N wondered how long she stayed sitting on the roomy windowsill, propped up by her pillows, watching them all. It must have been some time, because her newly wed husband approached her of his own accord.

“You’ll want to close that window before you sleep,” Stannis said. He had to lean down a little, as to not completely tower over her. “There’s all sorts of foulness in the air here.”

Y/N nodded, she’d already smelled it as she arrived. “I was just watching the sunset, and the ships. I love how the water sparkles under them.”

He said nothing, and Y/N had grown used to that in the short time they’d been married. She rather liked it, as she was not much of a talker herself. Too much of her childhood was her father forcing her into the circles of well-to-do ladies with eligible sons, and then in her maidenhood, being forced to talk to the sons themselves.

She had pointed out into the sea, toward a large vessel. “I’ve only seen that sort of ship twice. What is it?”

Stannis stepped closer, enough that she could pick up his body heat, and his tall body leaned over her to look out to the bay. “A Myrish trade ship, likely the property of a spice merchant. Do you see the scorpion on its sail? That’s common for Myrish ships. It’s either reptiles or insects, or coins. The thread embroided on that sail is gold, I’m sure of it.”

He grew up on Storm’s End, after all, watching the coast of Shipbreaker Bay, and his current seat was the island of Dragonstone. She wondered if Stannis Baratheon had ever been away from a coast for more than a few weeks.

Likewise, Y/N had never been away from her mountain home until she married. As horrid at the heat of the South was, she could tolerate it if it meant she stayed by the sea.

“I love it,” Y/N said, and meant it. She smiled at him like she smiled now, remembering the distinct color that rose to her husband’s cheeks that evening. It was strange how the court talked about him, how they had such distaste for what they considered a rigid and cold person. She hadn’t seen him that way.

True, he was always tense, but that’s because he was always thinking about far too much, far too often, concerning himself with this or that issue with the realm. It was his job as part of the small council, after all, but he seemed to carry a heavier burden than the others. Y/N wondered about that.

Lady Y/N was so lost in her thoughts, she forgot her handmaiden was returning with water. She thanked the girl and asked, “Would you happen to know when the small council meeting will finish?”

“Perhaps not for another hour, my lady.”

She had some time, then. Y/N returned to her book and leaned against the cool stone wall, glancing at the waves now and again. Again, she began to neglect the words on the page and let her mind wander.

From the beginning, Stannis was different. He traveled all the way to the North to formally ask permission for her hand. He wanted a proper courting period, but being the relative of the King and having a duty so far away, he had no such luxury – not that her father would dare split hairs about tradition when it came to a king’s brother.

Still, he took her hand in the foyer of that cold, frigid castle and apologized for not giving her a proper courtship, one a lady of her standing deserved.

At that moment, Y/N realized that she had never been apologized to. She was certainly never given one by a lord.

He was sincere, Y/N could tell. She could always remember the suitors who lied, who made empty promises to her father and emptier ones to her. Her father sniffed them out eventually, often too slow for her liking, and threw them into the cold. It wasn’t for her sake, not really - he wanted a powerful alliance with an older house, to give standing to their relatively newer name.

They had money and a beautiful daughter,  and what name was more deserving of both than the one that held the throne? Y/N should have been humiliated by his brazenness, but with Stannis, she could keep her dignity. All in all, Y/N could have done much worse.

She was never foolish to fancy what her marriage would be like; it wasn’t a luxury she allowed herself. Still, Y/N’s heart hurt at the thought of not marrying in a Godswood, as true Northern women ought to do. It was during this whirlwind courtship that Y/N asked, “My lord, is it true there’s a Godswood in the Red Keep?”

“There is, but it is no true Northern godswood,” Stannis said. “It is an acre of fine trees that are centuries old, but the heart tree is not a weirwood.”

He won’t lie to me. She thought. Not even to spare my feelings.

She always tried to keep her expressions even, to never betray her true emotion, but she must have shown something. Stannis added, “The ceremony will be in the Great Sept. It is a grand building, with seven towers. Many a bride would wish to marry there.”

“Many a Southern bride, perhaps.” Y/N said. She would be honest, too. “Still, I’ve heard much about the Great Sept’s beauty, and its seven towers and stained glass. Are they as grand as everyone says?”

“Yes.” Stannis responded curtly, and they stood in silence for some time. He suddenly continued. “The heartree at the Red Keep is not a proper weirdwood, true, but is a great oak. Tall as some towers, covered in old vines that try to curl into the wood. The gardeners have grown bright red flowers underneath, to honor the weirwoods in their way. It is not a proper Northern godswood, but it is a vast and well-kept wood in its own right. The ceremony can’t be there, but afterward, you can visit it anytime you like.”

He was trying to comfort her, Y/N had realized. He will try to spare my feelings then, in his own way. What a peculiar man.

When the day arrived, the Great Sept was indeed beautiful, unlike anything she’d ever seen. All seven towers glittering rainbows down in the sun, and inside, the beauty of the marble and statues of the Seven stole her breath. Even if they were not her gods, this was their place, and she felt their presence and humbled herself.

The stained glass shone bright across the marble floor, a motley of dancing colors, as though the gods were glad of their union. She ascended the tall steps in a dazzling gown of white silk and diamonds, Myrish lace and a train that followed long behind her. Stannis waited for her at the top, looking as still as the statues of the Sept, but she saw his eyes fill with softness as she took his hand and he helped her to the top step.

His fingers brushed her shoulders gently as he removed the cloak embroidered with her family’s sigil. With just as much gentleness, he wrapped her in a cloak of gold and black. His rough fingertips brushed her bare shoulders during the exchange, and it made her shiver a little.

The Great Septon spoke many elegant words, and Y/N was thankful she faced away from the crowd for most of the ceremony. She was positively sweating from the silk and warm Sept, but she kept her head high. She could feel a nervous energy radiating off Stannis, even without looking at him, although she stole some glances. He cut a good figure in his own groom’s clothes, although he stood as though he weren’t used to it.

A week after the ceremony, when she still struggled to adjust to her new living quarters and the Red Keep itself, Stannis suddenly asked her to accompany him. She took his arm and wondered with great curiosity where they were going. Then she understood.

It was an acre full of Northern trees, the godswood he had mentioned some time ago, and the great, stately oak was before her. It had more twisting, knotting branches than she could count. Two large men could hug the trunk and their fingers wouldn’t touch, and it was covered in a blanket of soft ivy vines, with a swath of red and white flowers growing under it. It was far more beautiful than he said.

Y/N couldn’t find her words, and she gazed at the heart tree until she heard Stannis ask, “Is it acceptable?”

As if either of them could change it if it wasn’t. This godswood had existed since the Red Keep had, after all. She spoke honestly. “It’s far lovelier than I could’ve thought. What an elegant heart tree.”

Stannis was pleased, she could tell. He didn’t tense up when she squeezed his arm and stood closer, or when she slightly pulled him down to kiss his cheek. “Thank you, my lord.”

“I did nothing deserving gratitude,” Stannis said, although he didn’t speak with his usual assuredness, and he glanced away from her.

He was terribly awkward with women, she knew, and even months later he was trying a very methodical way to approach their marriage. It was what he knew, and that comforted him in this strange, new territory. Y/N understood, but she liked to trip him up when she could.

In fact, she was quite fond of doing so. One could say Y/N was fond of him. It was a novel idea, being fond of one’s husband, looking forward to toying with him, and being quite amused when he tried to please her.

More than that, she liked seeing his cheeks or ears turn red when she thanked him for helping her, praised something he did or gave him sweet affections. It seemed he was unused to such things, and didn’t know how to respond to them – and Y/N wasn’t a woman of conceit, but she was confident her beauty only contributed to his reservations.

Recalling these fond memories and thoughts, Y/N decided she wanted to fluster her husband a little more, and she was growing frustrated that he wasn’t here. Finally, she heard doors opening in the parlor room, and the shuffling of a chair.

Being the brother of the king, and a member of the Small Council, Stannis was given fine dwellings inside of the vast Red Keep. The apartment was made of several rooms - a parlor for entertaining that often went unused, an office for Stannis that included a small library, a bathing area, a dressing room, their shared chambers, and so on.

Y/N noticed both she and Stannis preferred to hide away in their apartments when the court was becoming too much, as it often did in the Red Keep. She set aside her book and found him by the large table in the center of their parlor, mulling over papers and books that likely didn’t fit on the desk in his office. Had he carried all of these here? Y/N recognized a star chart, and a diagram of a galley.

First, she pushed aside several curtains to give the place more light. Then she walked toward the serving table, already stocked before Stannis arrived, and poured two goblets. She set one down next to Stannis, then she sat next to him on the settee. He didn’t look up.

Hearing a sound she didn’t like, Y/N scooted closer to her husband and gently took his hand in her chin.

“What–?” Stannis startled, nearly knocking a goblet off the table. Before he could speak, Y/N ran her finger along his jaw.

“You shouldn’t do that,” She said, speaking softly as not to disturb the peacefulness that had settled over the room. “Your jaw will ache by the evening.”

“I know,” Stannis said briskly, but he touched his jaw where her fingers were a moment ago, and there was color rising to his cheeks. He really didn’t seem to notice how often he ground his teeth, and Y/N noticed him wincing and rubbing his chin.

It was amusing that just a small touch like that, or their shoulders brushing together, or her adjusting his doublet in the morning or offering to unbutton it in the evening; all would stir the stern man to blushing silence. It’s not that he disliked her, Y/N was sure. He just wasn’t always sure on how to proceed, and besides, his mind was often occupied with work.

Even if she admired the work ethic, sometimes she worried about the toll it took on him. Y/N smoothed his shoulder, sorting out a wrinkle in his grey doublet. Stannis’ dark blue eyes darted straight to her hand.

“The council ran late today, didn’t it?” She said, using words to distract from her touches. “Perhaps you should take an early supper, and continue this work afterward. You could use the respite.”

Stannis responded how she expected. “It’s important that I get the fleet up to shape by the end of the year. Renly has been dodgy with the standards of quality, and Littlefinger still needs to find the coin for the sailors and shipbuilders.”

From what she understood and heard around the Keep, Stannis was often at odds with the small council, but especially his younger brother Renly. They were of a different generation, years apart in maturity and experience, not to mention how the King favored Renly’s more lackadaisical governing. Y/N understood being in the middle of strong personalities. She nodded, “Indeed, but you’ll find yourself in dire straits if you don’t nourish your body or rest your mind. I could have your dinner brought here.”

Stannis considered it. “You would be dining alone in the great hall.”

“Yes, I want to avoid that, so I’ll dine here as well.” The king’s courtiers could be far too rowdy, and gods forbid if Y/N had to spend another evening pretending to enjoy the queen’s cloying smalltalk.

Before Stannis could protest, Y/N added, “I won’t be in your way. I’ll eat here in the parlor, while you take the office, or whichever works. Perhaps I’ll watch the ships.“

Stannis still had a thoughtful expression, considering her words. Y/N took the opportunity to place a surprise kiss on his cheek. She could feel the taller man shift a little in surprise.

“You won’t hear a sound from me,” She said sweetly, her lips still ghosting next to his skin. She felt him shiver, too.

She knew what the courtiers and lords whispered about them. They had the nerve to pity her, as though she’d made a poor match.

“That will keep,” Stannis finally spoke, now looking pointedly at his papers and not her. "You don’t have to … stay in another room. We can supp together.”

Pleased with his answer and her progress, Y/N stood slowly, ensuring their bodies brushed together a little, and making sure he could see how her dress clung to her hips. “Then, I’ll leave you to this for now. I’m going for a walk.“

She left the parlor, hoping he was watching her go as the thin dress fluttered about her legs and swaying hips.

She was sitting upon the bay window and gazing out at the Blackwater again, as she did in the evenings, but it was exceptionally late. Stannis thought she had gone to sleep after they shared supper. Most of the candles in the chamber were extinguished, save for a few on a tall table beside the window. The flames danced sharply when the sea breeze came in.

“You’re still awake,” He said, speaking quietly as though their voices would waft out of the thick stone walls and wake someone. “Did you sleep?”

His lady wife was in a nightshift made of thin cotton, specifically the one that hugged her waist tightly and dipped to expose her chest. Those features, plus how it pooled at her feet even when she sat, made it seem a bit inconvenient. He’d say as much to her, but often he was distracted with how the fabric slid along her body.

She smiled at him, and it was comforting to see that at the end of a tiring day. He found himself looking forward to it more and more. He wouldn’t consider the Red Keep his home, nor was Dragonstone, but something about Y/N gave him that feeling.

“Oh, I woke up and thought I would wait for you.”

“You don’t have to do such a thing. You ought to sleep and keep away from the window,” Stannis said, but it came out much less stern than usual. Y/N noticed how his broad shoulders weren’t as stiff as they usually were, and when he removed his boots it seemed to take more effort than it should’ve.

Y/N glided off the windowsill, as graceful as a ghost, with her skirt flowing behind her. She promptly began removing the fasteners on his doublet. Stannis wanted to tell her it was unneeded, but his energy immediately went to stifling a yawn. It came out as a harsh breath, instead.

“You deserve to get some proper rest,” Y/N said, using that tone. Combined with the graceful fingers that had already opened the doublet and touching his chest, he shivered. He bent his knees so he could slide the doublet off his shoulders, and Y/N set it aside carelessly.

Her fingers pressed against his chest and nudged him in the direction she wanted. “It’s the dead of the night, dawn is only hours away, and you’re still up. You should look after your health, dear.”

Her sweet endearments and worry was completely at odds with how her lips kissed at his neck and her hand traced downward. He must’ve been more tired than he thought, because when she held his face in her hand his chest squeezed as though she held his lungs instead. Y/N kissed him and he leaned against the wall behind him, pulling her in closer.

He leaned into her touch, yearning for it, something he didn’t know he needed right now. Y/N broke their breathless kiss but quickly went back to kissing along his jaw, making his stomach flip with each one. When their lips met again, his hands squeezed her waist and the other ran down her hips. He could feel her warm, flushed skin perfectly through the thin nightgown, and didn’t want to admit how much he loved running his hands down it.

He may have been much stronger, but Stannis didn’t resist as Y/N lightly pushed him properly against the wall. She was lovely, soft and warm, and he was helpless when she was like this, running her hands up her chest and wanting him - he hoped it was want, even affection, anything other than duty and obligation driving her actions.

Stannis pulled her closer, grasping her hips, hearing her become breathless again. A moan caught in Y/N’s throat as his strong grip squeezed her, and his burning face pressed against her sweet-smelling neck. His feverish kisses were firm and made her squirm against him. “Y/N.”

“Come to bed,” She shuddered as he moved down to her collarbone. Her order was followed eagerly. Stannis easily gathered her in his arms, her nightgown slipping up her legs. She still planted kisses on his face and neck that made it difficult to navigate the dark to their bed.

Stannis tried to set her down easily, but her warmth and touches were distracting, never mind his own arousal. Before he could make sense of the darkness, Y/N was tugging on his shoulder to bring him into another kiss. He found her waist and pulled her close.

Y/N slipped her legs up his sides, her dress falling easily and his fingers made up for the chill that touched her skin. Stannis slid up the fabric until it pooled at her waist. In the candlelight, she could see how flushed he was, and his blue eyes had darkened enough to almost look like the bay.

“Not tired anymore, hm?” Y/N teased.

In spite of their current position and what they were just doing, Stannis felt himself flushing anew. Bluntly, he responded, “No, not at all.”

She giggled in a way that made him want to steal even more of her breath, so he did, kissing her neck and feeling her skin tremble under him. His other hand ran up the leg that was already hooked at his waist.

Stannis pressed himself against her, grunting at the friction. He was surprised at his own desire to stay here and not pull away, even if his damned trousers needed to be dealt with. He was bombarded with a myriad of lustful thoughts, especially as he touched Y/N’s thighs. Of all the thoughts, a distinct one kept surfacing: He wanted to lick them.

Maybe if he wasn’t sleep deprived and in a lust-addled haze, he’d be scandalized. It seemed like a perfectly normal thing to do right now, reasonable, even. Y/N had wonderful legs. They should be kissed and appreciated like the rest of her.

His thoughts were interrupted when she impatiently tugged at his arm. “Stannis, touch me. Please.”

It was then he realized the candles were fast going out, and it was mostly shadows in the room. He wanted to see her face so badly.

“Y/N, I ... I want to taste you,” He stumbled out in a mess of words, his breath coming short.

Y/N’s hips rolled up and grinded against his, making him groan and quickly pin her down in place. She always moaned from his rough tough, like now, and her legs nudged him. “Then do it,” She said, her impatience laced with lust.

With that consent, Stannis pushed her long nightshift aside so roughly, he thought he heard threads rip. He slid down and kissed her legs, relishing in how hot they were. He kissed her thighs, tasting their delicious warmth, and grabbed her calf as he pushed her open further.

“Ah, gods-!” Y/N gasped. She squirmed again, so Stannis gripped her legs harder, feeling how his fingers sunk into the soft skin. She was so beautiful. Stannis had seen pretty women, objectively beautiful ones, and heard how men lusted and admired after them. He’d never understood until now, and he was sure Y/N couldn’t compare to any of them. They must’ve not, if he hadn’t felt this way until now.

He kissed the inside of her thighs, feeling her quiver under his lips. She arched into him as he kissed just outside her smallclothes. She was soaked through; he could smell her warmth and even feel it. There was still anxiety in the back of his mind, the fear of doing something wrong, as he often seemed to do with women… Although he hadn’t ever thought of doing these things to them.

Stannis slipped off her smallclothes and let them hang around her ankle. The anxiety still climbed up his chest, and he wished he could see her, not just the shadows of her lovely body.

He ran his thumb over her clit, feeling how wet she was, hearing her instant reaction. Y/N’s thigh flexed under his other hand’s firm grip. “Ah! Stannis, please …”

Having his sweet wife beg under him was almost too much, so Stannis didn’t make her wait. His tongue ran up her cunt, pressing against her clit, tasting all of her wetness. Having her warmth around his cock was much different than this. If Stannis stopped to think about it, he might enjoy this more - but he couldn’t think anymore.

Y/N arched back sharply and raised her hips, so he had to hold her down again. He may have been more slight than Robert, but he still had a man’s strength, and Y/N whimpered as he used it.

Stannis took a heavy breath. He tasted her on his lips. “Am I hurting you?”

“N-no, you aren’t. Don’t stop, keep like that.” Y/N quivered. Her heart is beating quickly, but she knows his is probably thumping like a rabbit. Just to please her, her husband gave a tight squeeze to her hips with both his hands while his tongue lapped at her.

Y/N didn’t try to quiet her moans, and she said his name and praised him. Stannis’ hand slipped up from her hips to up her stomach, feeling her flushed skin. He wanted to focus on her pleasure, something to think about so he wouldn’t come undone so early.

Her fingers found his hand and she squeezed it before bringing it to her lips. She came as she kissed his fingers, her lewd voice filling up the room, and for once Stannis didn’t worry about anyone overhearing. The sensations of her warm breath, soft lips and wet core were taking away all his attention.

Y/N enjoyed the feeling of his strong fingers around her’s, still rough in spite of him being a lord. Coming down from her high, she playfully licked a few of his fingertips and said in a low, sweet voice, “Thank you, Stannis. It felt so good~”

“Y/N,” Stannis almost stuttered her name, and felt foolish for it, but he was buzzing while she was still coming down. He found himself pressing his body against her smaller one, his heart hurting and his cock aching at the same time. She reached for him, and he more than eagerly pulled her into his grasp.

She wanted him to be close, she wanted him. Stannis kissed her neck and when she ran her hands down his broad back, he almost buried his face in her shoulder to hide. It was too much, she was too much. He wanted to think straight, for just a moment, but he could still taste her juices on his lips and he wished it wasn’t over so quickly.

The stormlord felt fingers running through his dark hair, nails gently scratching along his scalp. The other hand traced up his back and made him shiver.

“Come here,” Y/N still had some breathlessness in her voice, but she was ready to keep going. Her desire hadn’t cooled off, if anything, it was stronger. “Stannis …”

With her sweet words, the strange feelings in his chest - panic? - kept swirling. Stannis remembered his own arousal, and moved his hips against Y/N’s, effectively pinning her underneath him. She sighed and wrapped those legs around him, bringing him closer.

“Please,” She said, and that was all it took for Stannis to set to awkwardly removing his trousers. They were a damned prison, and he was glad to be rid of them.

He grasped her hips again, his fingers pressing into bruises he already made earlier, but she still melted and moaned under him. An anxious thought tried to pull him away, telling him to be careful – but that became an afterthought as she spread her legs and he easily sunk himself in. If her skin was on fire, then her core was an entirely different heat that he wanted desperately.

Stannis bit at his lower lip harshly, knowing he wouldn’t last long. Y/N met his thrusts by rolling her hips, digging her nails in his arm and gasping words he lost track of. He heard his name several times, and when he picked up his pace, she stumbled over it in the most wonderful way.

For a few minutes, the sound of their bodies and breathes was the only noise, until Y/N cried out and her moans faded into whimpers. Stannis felt her squeeze around his cock, and for the dozenth time he wished for light so he could see her wetness drip around him. He wanted to clean her with his mouth, he thought instantly.

The image of her core dripping from their union and his tongue back inside it was enough to make the Baratheon shudder and groan her name. Stannis thrusted harshly and came shortly after that.

He had to catch himself on the bed, the fatigue of the day and their actions catching up at once. Y/N’s hands idly wandered up his arm, then held his face, and the darkness bothered him again. The candles had long been out. Y/N tried to kiss him, but she missed and got his nose.

Stannis flinched and Y/N giggled. Her fingers slowly felt for his lips. “Sorry, let me try again.”

Her legs were wrapped around his waist, he was still inside her, and Stannis felt a bit lost. He lowered himself, very careful not to rest too much weight on her, and let her pull him into a long kiss.

What was he supposed to say? What were the words for the thoughts that came racing back, like they always did after he and Y/N were together? He didn’t want to leave her warmth, but it was late, and his body felt heavy.

They eventually untangled themselves, and Stannis found a cloth to clean Y/N’s legs. He was willing to leave to get their nightclothes, but Y/N pulled him back and rested her head on his shoulder.

“Are you thinking?” She asked.

“Yes.” It was a strange question, but he answered simply. His tired mind was rattling off all sorts of nonsense, of the council and his duties and Y/N and their marriage.

“Try to sleep first,” Y/N said, knowing saying that was usually futile, but she knew he was exhausted. “Let’s discuss it in the morning, hm?”

Stannis didn’t want to leave his wife’s embrace, but he’d be damned if he’d fall asleep by her whilst lacking an undignified amount of clothes. After adjusting some blankets and finding some clothes, they were back to Y/N resting her head on his chest.

“Do you want your nightshift?” Stannis asked, trying to be casual about the bare body pressed against him.

Y/N hummed. “Hmm, no.”

He tucked the blanket around her anyhow. Being from the North, she claimed the night’s humidity and heat was enough, but Stannis was still convinced she’d get a chill. She eventually moved off his chest, but still stayed close, her breathing starting to even out as she fell asleep.

Tired as he was, Stannis still couldn’t rest until after her. When she was close like this, it gave him hope that she cared. Fulfilling the expecting duty of a wife didn’t have to include being as close and comfortable as a cat, but here she was. In the morning, if he accidentally woke her up as he got ready, he knew there’d be a sleepy smile for him.

Stannis frowned but fought the urge to start grinding his teeth. Intead, he pressed his cheeks against his wife’s soft hair and took in the smells of her soap and perfumes. His breath crossed her forehead, and Stannis’ last thought was wondering if it troubled her.

"I understand there are congratulations in order,” Sabitha said, getting straight to the point, as she often did. As they pulled away from a strong hug, she wasted no time in looking pointedly at Y/N’s abdomen. “That dour stag got a fawn on you. What a fine thing.”

Y/N shook her head at her old friend’s words. So direct and a bit unladylike, as always. It was good to see her again. They grew up together, their fathers and Houses being close, but then Sabitha had been married off and sent all the way to the Reach. The day she left, it was like losing a sister. Y/N was so sure they’d never see each other again.

Now, given her position, Y/N could arrange visits, especially with Sabitha’s husband being involved with trade in King’s Landing. She and Y/N planned to take in the sights and enjoy the court feasts, but more importantly, they had lots to catch up on. It had been almost three years since they last saw each other.

Their laughter echoed softly through the winding garden, and soon the two ladies arrived at the private docks that led to the back of the Red Keep. Ships rarely came here directly, but one could get a clear view of which galleys were coming into the main ports of King’s Landing.

The sea wind blew their hair and dresses where it pleased, and they ducked under rows of orange trees to get a break from it. A bench was waiting for them, and Y/N found herself absently touching her stomach as she tidied her white linen dress.

“You’re hardly showing,” Sabitha commented. She was quick to retrieve a ripe orange from one of the trees. “I can’t imagine you’ve had to let any dresses out yet.”

“Wrong on both counts, Sab. See?” Well, she wasn’t showing as much as some would expect, but Y/N definitely experienced the annoyance of digging through her closet for something to fit, then giving up and just having the royal seamstresses do their magic. She imagined she’d have to call on them several times.

"Enjoy that, and how you look now, because soon you’ll be waddling about and looking like someone strapped pillows over your stomach and tits.” Sabitha finished peeling her orange and happily bit into it.

Y/N rolled her eyes and took a few oranges from the trees for herself. After some idle back and forth, Sabitha leaned against her friend and said with a mouthful of fruit, “So, tell me the truth of it, esteemed Lady Y/N of Dragonstone.”

Y/N made a face at the mess Sabitha was making, and retrieved a handkerchief to dab at her friend’s chin. “What do you mean, most dearest Lady Sabitha?”

“Don’t be coy. Your lord husband, the king’s brother. I’ve heard things about him, but none of it interested me until now. Tell me all about it.”

"About what, exactly?”

Sabitha sighed with impatience. "Your marriage bed, obviously. That’s his fawn, now tell me how he got it on you - details, please.”

"Sabitha!” Y/N blushed, but her grin matched her friend’s. Sabitha was trying to keep a straight face, like they were discussing a dull ball, but her own facade was cracking. She didn’t blame her friend, she knew the castle was whispering about it, people she’d never met congratulating her and courtiers staring pointedly at her abdomen. Some days she just stayed in the apartments.

A pregnant lady was nothing special, not normally. The problem is the Queen wasn’t with child yet, and Stannis was, well … Stannis. His cold reputation, combined with his brother’s known affairs and the Queen’s harsh temperament made for a volley of unsavory rumors that Y/N was constantly dodging.

Thank the gods Sabitha was here to distract her. Y/N didn’t tell her friend that she’d made excuses and avoided the court for the past week. She was strong, but the North was never like this, and while Stannis would grind his teeth and harshly rebuke any rumors, sometimes it was just easier for Y/N to get away from it all.

“I mean it. He’s tall, so he’s proportionate, hm? Not too bad in the shoulders, I suppose, and if he’d just smile once in a blue moon. Anyway, how do you talk him into it?”

“Sabitha, I’m not – oh no, I’m not entertaining this.” Y/N sputtered, and gave a light shove to her friend’s shoulder.

“You were always cold with men! I’m curious!”

“That’s because Father entertained some of the most foolish men I’ve ever met, if you could even call them that. I’ll have you know, Stannis takes very good care of me, and I’m fond of him.” It was a little embarrassing to admit such a thing, but it was the truth, and Y/N felt the warm affection come over her all over again. “He works hard for the realm, and for my comfort.”

Sabitha made an undignified little snort. She was halfway through another orange. “Oh, I see.”

Y/N blushed. “What.”

“Well, well, I suppose this summer air can melt anyone, hm? This is high praise, coming from the girl who’d step all over the Manderly boy’s feet to keep him from dancing with her, and made a Glover cry -”

“I didn’t! Well, so I did, but he shouldn’t have been so brazen!”

Sabitha laughed. “He kissed your cheek! You and Lord Stannis are perfect for each other. A glacier meeting an iceberg, both melting from a lustful summer heat - Ow!”

Sabitha cried out with surprise as an orange pelted her shoulder, then another at her chest, and she was quick enough to hop off the bench and run to avoid the third. She ended up falling over and giggling madly as she hid behind the trees.

“Y/N! Just because it’s summer – that doesn’t mean you can waste perfectly good fruit!”

“You’re lucky I don’t have tomatoes!” Y/N managed to pelt Sabitha one more time, and the lady squeaked with laughter. Anyone watching them would think they’d gone mad, or were two silly girls playing, not two married ladies.

“Please, my sweet lady, forgive me,” Sabitha cooed, finding her way back to Y/N and giving her a hug.

“Hugs won’t let you get away with everything,” Y/N said, even if she was already returning the gesture. She missed her friend and her family’s Northern keep, even her silly father and busybody mother. She sighed, leaning into the embrace and not liking the idea of Sabitha going home.

She felt her friend patting her hair, like she always did. “You can’t let the court control you and frighten you into hiding, not even the Queen.”

“Stannis thinks I should go to Dragonstone.” Y/N said. She hadn’t told Sabitha this yet. She’d never seen the gloomy fortress herself, but she’d heard tales of it, and read the books. She’d seen Stannis’ face and demeanor turn dark when he talked about it. Still, it was a reprieve …

“You shouldn’t,” Sabitha said, a little too quickly. She corrected herself. “I mean, I’ve heard the rumors. Some of them are … not pleasant. I think it would make you look guilty.”

“I am the Lady of Dragonstone, technically it’s my place, isn’t it?”

“Yes, but you and your husband have been doting and cooing - oh, don’t give me that face, as much as Stannis can - and for you to suddenly be sent away? It doesn’t look good, Y/N.”

Y/N sighed heavily. The weariness was catching up to her now. She felt like she had to expend more and more energy to do the things she always did, and Y/N wasn’t sure if that was because of the baby or all this sudden attention and intrigue that was being paid to her.

“You have a point.” She conceded. “I don’t want to go. I just … gods, no one really cared before. Now the Queen glares at me with those green eyes and anytime she talks to me, it’s like the whole room is staring.”

Sabitha nodded, and the two women sat together on the bench again, stray oranges around them. The sky and sea were still glittering brightly, but the mood around them had darkened. Sabitha tried to bring up a light subject. “Have you both considered a name?”

Wanting to change the subject too, Y/N said, “Stannis seems content to let me name the child, even if it’s a son.”

“How surprising. I’d think a man like that would have some sort of stuffy family name pocketed away, or worse, he’d go the boring route and name the child after the king.”

Y/N almost choked on a laugh. “Oh, Stannis would never.”

“And thank the gods, one is enough. Can you imagine a Roberta? Though my bet is on a boy with the look of his father.”

“You think so?”

“Well, I’d prefer a pretty girl or boy with your sweet face. Oh, that reminds me. Do you remember that knight who fought in the melee at Winterfell, it was some years back, let me think …”

While Sabitha told a long story, Y/N’s thoughts were still distanced. The worry of the court had been pressing on her so much, she hadn’t even thought about what the child might look like or be like. She thought of a steady boy with Stannis’ temperament and those clear blue eyes. Or maybe she’d have a pretty girl, one who looked like her, but with long black hair.

They were funny and strange thoughts, ones that gave her an odd mix of excitement, anticipation and a little anxiety. Had Stannis thought about it too? She wanted to ask him. Maybe he didn’t entertain such things, but she wanted to know.

She smiled, already thinking of what blunt answer he may give, or perhaps his eyes would soften, and he’d tell her something new. Something she didn’t know about him. In the safety of their shared chambers, he’d talk about Storm’s End, the good and the bad memories.

The Others can take the Queen and her tittering ladies. Y/N thought with resolve. I won’t hide anymore. I’ll smile now, and I’ll smile when I hold our child in my arms.