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0cta9on · 3 months

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Unlikely Duet - 7

length: +7k words

Genre: Fluff

NewJeans Minji x Male Reader (OC)

(Author's Note: Finally, after almost 3 months of writing on and off, rereading and rewriting entire portions, and countless edits, I finally finished chapter 7 of UD :,] I'll get started on chapter 8 asap so it hopefully doesn't take as long. Enjoy!)

【☆】★【☆】★【☆】★【☆】★【☆】★【☆】★【☆】★【☆】★【☆】★【☆】★【☆】★

Yuno’s POV

I inhale deeply, letting the grassy aroma and fresh evening air fill my lungs. The full moon looks down at us with its gentle gaze, reflecting its light on our intimate moment. Street lights flicker in the town below us, mimicking the stars hanging in the indigo above. Minji shivers next to me as a cool breeze whistles by, and I instinctively wrap my arm around her for warmth. Her cheeks light up with a pretty pink hue that lingers in my vision longer than it should have.

“It’s really pretty tonight,” she comments, glancing up at the moon. I nod, but all my focus is on the girl next to me, more beautiful than any celestial body could hope to be. The wind makes her long, black hair float and ebb like a stream of the finest silk, while the Milky Way traps itself into her irises, containing the beauty of an entire galaxy in just her eyes alone. Being here with her, nothing to interrupt our moment. Everything feels perfect.

“Minji, I…” As if she can read my mind, she turns to me, a knowing smile on her face, and shuts her eyes, awaiting my next move. With a quivering breath, I slowly lean into her, the warmth emitting from her skin growing ever warmer. The last thing I see is her lips before my vision fades to black, and then nothing.

I open my eyes to find Minji gone, replaced by my ceiling fan. My body jolts upwards in confusion as I grasp at the bed sheets beneath me. Instead of the grassy hill overlooking the town, all I see is the familiar layout of my bedroom, taunting me with its stillness. A disappointed sigh leaves my lips - just a dream.

My phone sits on my bed, still open on Minji’s blank messages. How pathetic of me. I spent all night wracking my brain for a response and couldn’t find a single thing to say. I hover tentatively over the keyboard one last time, desperately searching for the right words to say, before eventually giving up and sending a text to the group chat instead.

Yuno: Good Morning.

To my surprise, Yujin and Winter respond rather quickly.

Yujin: GOOD MORNING!!!!

Winter: good morning :)

Yuno: What are you two up to?

Winter: working :/

Yujin: im taking care of my grandma today!!

With the two of them busy, I’m left to figure out how to spend my Sunday alone. I click over to Minji’s blank messages one last time, my heart palpitating with an uncommon anxiety. Whatever this feeling is, love or otherwise, it’s getting old quickly. Everything feels confusing, and unlike most of my problems, I can’t solve it with brute force alone. What am I even hoping for here? A relationship? I don’t know anything about relationships or dating or how to be a boyfriend. Minji’s boyfriend, huh? That sounds kinda nice-

No. We’re too different. I don’t exactly have any good points to me either. I mean, Minji is like… a shining star - beautiful and radiant, but unattainable. And I’m like a sad cockroach looking up at that star, put on this planet because someone up there decided to play a sick joke. We’re just friends and that’s okay. Yet, the dull pain in my chest tells me otherwise. With a heavy sigh and a couple thousand unanswered questions, I shoot her a simple “Good Morning” text, because that’s what friends say to each other.

The sizzling of melting butter on a griddle and the heavenly scent of warm maple syrup grows stronger as I descend the staircase toward the kitchen, my tastebuds salivating at the thought of my favorite food - pancakes. My dad is in the kitchen, hunched over a cookbook with a surgeon-like focus, as a stack of warm pancakes sits next to him with two more cooking on the stovetop.

“Good morning, Yuno,” he greets me with a wide smile. “Cooked up breakfast if you’re hungry. Help yourself.”

I quickly take a seat at the table and stack a couple of them onto my plate, my stomach grumbling with a vicious hunger. As I go in to take the first bite, the scent of pancake wafts through my nose, taking me back to the first morning I woke up in Minji’s house. Despite us being strangers at that point, she let me crash on her couch so I didn’t have to run home in the rain, offered me warm clothes to sleep in, and made waffles for me the morning after so I didn’t go to school hungry. She didn’t have to, but she did, and it made all the difference in my measly little life. Minji is just so… incredible. And beautiful. And intelligent and kind and sweet and-

“Uh, are you alright?” I hear my dad ask. “You’ve been staring at your pancakes for a while now.”

I shake my head, clearing my thoughts. “I-I’m fine.” That's a lie. I’m not fine. A girl, THE girl, is taking over my mind and my dreams, making my heart feel weird and my mouth feel dry. I like a girl that can’t possibly like me back and I’m just supposed to be fine with that. How do I even begin to explain this to anyone?

My dad sits across from me at the table and fills up his plate. The silence between us begins to grow as we eat, an air of unease and uncertainty filling the room. On top of my feelings for Minji, I now have to deal with my feelings regarding the state of my dad. It’s been years since I last saw him like this. He’s fine now, but what if he relapses? How did he even make such an abrupt change anyway when all I saw him doing was sleeping and drinking? I should be happy, but I can’t shake the feeling that he could just revert to his older self without warning. I can’t cling to hope for too long, otherwise I’ll be met with disappointment yet again.

“So, uh, I was thinking,” he says, nervously clearing his throat. “Would you wanna go to the mall later?”

I freeze like a deer in headlights, caught off guard by his sudden question. “The mall? Why?”

“You don’t have to go if you don’t wanna, I just thought…” He sighs heavily, dropping his expression to the floor. “I want to be your dad again, like old times, before your mother… left us. If you don’t want anything to do with me, I understand, but if it’s okay with you… I want a relationship with my son again.”

He looks into my eyes with a sincere expression, tears threatening to pour. A part of me wants to say no, to make up some lame excuse and wander the streets until it’s dark instead of spending any time with him. Maybe he’s right. Maybe I am harboring some resentment for him for leaving me, a child, alone all these years, left to watch my one remaining parent shatter into a million pieces every day until he’s nothing but dust. Maybe I got so used to being alone that the thought of relying on someone else again makes me uncomfortable. Maybe I get into these stupid fights and aimlessly walk around the neighborhood because I know that the only person waiting for me at home is constantly drunk and sleeping.

Despite that, I don’t say no. I nod my head and utter, “Okay,” because the other part of me wants to have my dad back regardless of what he did. I want to be able to come home after school, into a home with the lights on, where the air doesn’t constantly smell like alcohol, and have someone, anyone, ask how my day went. I want someone to rely on when life gets too difficult to handle by myself. I want my family again.

So we eat our breakfast in silence. The uncertainty lingers, but next to it is a warming sense of hope, holding its hand in reassurance.

______________________________________________________________

Minji’s POV

Knock, knock, knock

“Minji?”

Knock, knock, knock

“Honey, are you awake?”

I finally sit up, rubbing the drowsiness from my eyes. “Now I am,” I yawn, stretching out my limbs. The clock reads 7:12 AM, about an hour after I usually wake up on the weekends. My phone lay face up on my bed, still on Yuno’s empty messages. Like an idiot, I waited all night for a response from him, but all I got was an hour less of sleep. Maybe I shouldn’t have held my breath for him.

My mother swings my bedroom door wide open. “Oh good, you’re awake,” she says, pacing around my room and picking up some of my laundry off the ground. “Go eat breakfast and get washed up. We’re going to the mall in a bit.”

“The mall? Why?” I ask.

“Oh, y’know… Just some clothes shopping,” she says with a peculiar smile. “We need to update that closet of yours, dear.”

Too drowsy to argue, I get out of bed and head downstairs, where my father is taking a call in the kitchen. Wisps of steam float from the mug of black coffee sitting on the counter next to him, untouched as he presses his phone to his ear with an intense focus. He mouths “Good morning” to me, gesturing to a plate holding a fancy-looking omelet. I dig in, unintentionally eavesdropping on my father’s conversation.

“Mhm. Tuesday you said? No, it’s not a problem at all. Yes, she will be there, I’ll make sure of it. Yeah. Mhm. No problem. We’ll see you then.”

Finally, he hangs up the phone and sits next to me at the dining table. Wrinkles of exhaustion decorate his face, likely from working early in the morning.

“Did you sleep okay, Minji?” He asks. “You’re usually up earlier than this.”

“I slept fine. I thought I’d get some more studying done after I got home and forgot about the time,” I lie. I can’t even imagine how furious he would be if I told him that I stayed up all night waiting for a text from a boy.

He grins proudly at me. “I’m happy that you’re working hard on your studies, but good sleeping habits will keep our brain healthy.” His phone buzzes in his pocket. “I’ll be right back, I have to take this.” He leaves the room, leaving me alone in the kitchen with my omelet and my thoughts. Maybe Yuno isn’t going to text me. Maybe I should text him first instead. But shouldn’t the guy text first…?

A sigh leaves my lips. I'm way in over my head with prom preparations already, I definitely don’t have any room for a silly little crush. Perhaps these feelings are just one of circumstance. We’ve been bumping into each other everywhere, so these feelings will fade if I just avoid Yuno for a bit. Sounds easy enough, right?

______________________________________________________________

The mall is always busiest on the weekends, full of families and friends looking for new deals while carrying around soft pretzels or pointing out attractive people who pass by. This mall, however, is a bit different from most, reserving its entire top floor for high-end designer shops. There isn’t any sort of membership or secret password that prohibits people from entering the top floor, but it generally stays barren aside from the few wealthy shoppers who can afford to do more than just window shop, including my family. The blatantly obvious segregation between social classes is disgusting, but I would be lying if I said I don’t like being able to shop without stumbling through the thick crowds on the lower levels.

“What do you think about this one, dear?” My mother pulls a black dress off the hanger, presenting its fine, intricate detailing to me. Shimmering black beads are sewn into the fabric, probably taking countless hours to place by hand.

“It’s very pretty,” I comment plainly. By all means, it’s a beautiful dress, but I much prefer something more comfortable.

“Why don’t you go try it on, dear,” she says, handing me the dress. I glance at the price tag, causing my eyes to go wide in shock at the $120,000 price point.

“$120,000? Isn’t that a bit much for a dress?” I ask, concern painting my face.

“Nonsense, Minji. Don’t you want to look good for the party?”

My brow furrows. “Party? What party?” My mother’s gaze wanders, avoiding me completely.

“Well, there’s no party in particular, but you never know what will come up. Just try on the dress please.” She pushes me into the dressing room before I can ask another question.

Right as I close the door behind me, I feel my phone buzz in my purse. My heart skips a beat from the words on the screen - 1 new message from Yuno.

“AH!” I exclaim, nearly dropping my phone.

“Are you okay in there, ma’am?” A worker asks from the other side of the door. I can feel my cheeks heat up from embarrassment.

“I-it’s nothing! Just a, uh, a spider! But it’s okay! Ehe…” I silently cringe at myself as I hear the worker’s footsteps walking away. I just know Hanni would be laughing her butt off at me getting this excited over a text from Yuno.

With a trembling hand, I open up his text, which simply reads “Good morning.” It’s a short and simple message, yet I bite my lip, actively stifling a delighted squeal. An overwhelming sense of giddiness washes over me from those two words on the screen, my mind racing as I try to think of a response.

Should I ask him how he slept? Maybe that’s a bit too intimate… Oh, what if he had a weird dream? That’s an interesting topic of conversation, right? No, that might be too weird… Maybe I should ask the girls for help. But they might just laugh at me. Oh god, what do I do?

Right as my thumb hovers over the keyboard to type up a response, I freeze. This isn’t what I’m supposed to be doing. Yuno and I are just friends, and that’s all we can ever be. I’m just far too busy for any kind of serious relationship, and my parents clearly don’t approve of him either. Even so, a small voice in the back of my head tells me to go for it, that it’ll work out if I try hard enough. Anything can be achieved through hard work, right? That’s what my parents always told me. A heavy sigh escapes my lips as my heart and mind devolve into war with no clear victor. I don’t even know for sure if he feels the same, yet here I am, getting all excited over his words on a screen.

A knock at the door snaps me out of my rambling thoughts. “Honey, are you okay in there? You’ve been in there a long time, I only gave you one dress to try,” I hear my mom ask.

“S-sorry!” I quickly toss my phone back into my purse and grab the dress off the hanger. Maybe I just need some time to think about it.

______________________________________________________________

“Thank you for shopping with us, Ms. Kim! Have a wonderful day!” The worker exclaims as we leave the store with a plethora of shopping bags and a long receipt to match. My mother takes a single bag, leaving me to carry the rest. My family definitely has the means to live a “comfortable” life, but even exorbitant purchases like these are uncharacteristic of them.

“Why... huff... do I... grunt… need all these clothes?” I ask, struggling to carry everything. “Isn't this... huff… a bit much just to update my closet?"

“Think of it as a gift from your mother, dear,” she replies, not looking in my direction. “I barely get to see you because your father and I are always working. Don’t you want to spend time with your mother?”

“I guess so…” But not like this, I think to myself. As we descend the escalator to the lower levels, the frequency of people increases, making it nearly impossible to take two steps without accidentally hitting someone with the bags. My cheeks burn with embarrassment as I offer an apologetic look to everyone who passes by.

Amidst the chaos, I trip over my foot, inadvertently sending shopping bags and expensive dresses flying everywhere. My mother continues on without even so much as a glance backward, leaving me to pick up the remnants of her wealth as passersby give me weird looks or downright ignore me. As if things couldn’t get any worse, a man snatches my purse off the ground and dashes toward the mall exit.

“H-hey! Give that back!” Of course, my words fall on deaf ears as the thief gets farther and farther. No one moves to stop him, too scared or confused to intervene. My phone, my wallet, the little knick knacks my friends have given me over the years, all of it is gone…

Out of nowhere, a person tackles the thief to the ground, wrestling my purse from his hands. The scuffle ends with the heroic stranger standing over the thief’s now unconscious body, a crowd surrounding and applauding his efforts. An overwhelming sense of gratitude fills me, and without thinking, I run over to my savior and capture him in a big hug,

“Oh my god, thank you so much for getting my purse back, I don’t know how I can-” Panic replaces gratitude as I look up at him for the first time.

“Y-Yuno?!”

______________________________________________________________

Yuno’s POV

I glare at the black screen of my phone, taunting me by reflecting my own ridiculous emotions. My body is restless, itching for any sign of life, a vibration, a notification, just anything to quench my frustrations. And then it happens: the screen lights up with life. Frantic, I grab the phone, bringing it up to my eyes to read the notification.

Yujin: Heeeeeeeyyyyyyyyyy guyyyyyysssssss. I made kimbap for my grandma, what do yall think?

A photo of Yujin is attached to the text, depicting a clumsily put-together plate of what I assume to be kimbap. Out of the billion notifications I’ve received in the past hour, all of them have been from Yujin, and zero have been from Minji. My head drops in disappointment. Despite my own warnings, I can’t stop thinking about her. She plagues my mind with her pretty eyes and cute face and gentle voice and-

“You alright, Yuno?” My dad sits across from me at the table, his brow furrowed in concern mid-chew. “You haven’t touched your burger at all.”

I shake my head, gathering my bearings. ’50s rock music blasts from the speakers above, fitting the atmosphere of the 50s-themed diner we are in. With no plan in mind, my dad suggested that we get some lunch first, although his words fell on deaf ears since I was too preoccupied staring at my phone.

“It’s nothing,” I utter, avoiding his eyes. He sighs heavily, his expression darkening.

“Look, I… I understand if you don’t trust me completely, a-and I will work harder to earn your trust, but I don’t want you to suffer in silence,” he explains. “If something is going on, I want you to know that you can come to me for anything, no matter how big or small. I don’t have the answers to everything, but I’m here to listen if you need me.”

My lips part to speak, yet no words come out, hiding away in my throat, too scared to show themselves. I choke them down, guilt arising within me due to my silence. What am I supposed to say? “Hey Dad, you are right, I feel weird seeing you like this after so long and so suddenly, but also my life in general has just become so weird. In less than a week, I slept over at the student council’s president house, got two friends, beat two people in a fight, went to the fair for the first time, and I also really like the student council president. Maybe even love her, I don’t know.” This whole thing is ridiculous. I am ridiculous.

“I’m fine, really,” I assure him, and myself partially.

He looks at me, unconvinced, but doesn’t pry any further. “Alright, just… I want you to know.”

God, this sucks. I can’t even eat a meal with my own dad in peace because of my inability to function like a regular human being. Part of me wishes I could just pretend like everything is alright, but since when have I ever felt alright?

“What about you?” The words eject from my mouth without thought. Call it curiosity or not wanting to eat in awkward silence for the second time today, either way, the question is out there now.

“What about me?” My dad asks, rightfully confused.

“I mean…” Fuck, why is it so hard to talk? “You… You’re up and alive, I guess. What changed?”

He places his burger down and looks up with a thoughtful expression. “I, uh, went out for another drink one night and ran into an old friend from college. We just talked for a while, maybe even all night, just catching up like no time had passed. Y’know, he introduced me and your mom way back when. Seeing him reminded me of my old college days, living like I was on top of the world, and… I just knew something had to change.”

“That’s… great. Really.” And I mean it. A smile grows on his face at my sincerity.

“Yeah, it really is. He basically saved my life. I hope you’re able to find good friends like that, Yuno.”

My phone buzzes with a new message from the group chat.

Winter: that looks really great yujin :D

Yujin: hehe thanks !!!

A small grin grows on my face. Maybe I already have. If only I could get a text from one other friend…

______________________________________________________________

We walk into a clothing store full of people my age dressed much more stylishly than I am. I didn’t particularly need to update my closet, but the potential guilt of declining my dad’s offer to buy me clothes was too overwhelming. Besides, what else are you supposed to do at a mall other than spend exorbitant amounts of money on material things?

“Go look around. Let me buy you something nice for once,” he quips. His mood seems to have significantly brightened after our talk at the diner.

Looking through all the racks made me realize just how out of my element I am. Outside of my school uniform, most of my clothes are just sweats and hoodies - comfortable and don’t draw too much attention. Everything (and practically everyone) in here is basically a giant billboard that says “Hey, look at me!!!”

Then, something catches my eye: a forest green crewneck sweater with a bear wearing overalls screen printed on the front. I try to move on, but the beady lifeless eyes of the bear stare into my soul, demanding that I take it home. It’s ridiculous, It’s childish, it’s…

“I want it,” I blurt out.

“Really? This?” Dad chuckles, examining the sweater. “Didn’t think you would be interested in this kind of thing, but hey, what do I know about fashion?”

I cough awkwardly, my face growing warm. I didn’t know anything about fashion either. Hell, if I didn’t have the reputation I have, I would probably be a prime target for bullies if I wore that around. Out of everything in the store, why did I want that sweater? Who in their right mind would even like this sweater?

Minji. Minji would. Half of her bed is covered in teddy bears. I want that sweater because, for some stupid reason, I think it’ll magically make her like me. Or something. I don’t know. She hasn’t even texted me back yet, what good is a sweater with a bear on it gonna do?

Before I could protest, my dad hands me the sweater in a plastic bag, already paid for. “You wanna stop by a couple more stores?” he asks.

“Sure,” I concede, still feeling embarrassed. A part of me feels oddly glad that I took it, imagining Minji’s reaction to seeing the sweater. “Wow Yuno, your sweater is so cute, we should go out sometime!” Yeah right. Still, I can’t stop the small grin dancing on my lips.

“H-hey! Give that back!”

A familiar voice rings from the center of the mall. I glance upwards to see a man barging through the crowd, clutching onto a purse that definitely isn’t his. Without thinking, I spring into action, dashing towards him as fast as I can.

“Yuno!” My dad calls out from behind me, but his words are left unheard as I continue my pursuit. Right before the man reaches the exit, I jump onto a bench and dive at him, tackling him to the ground.

“What the fuck man, get off of me!” The thief yells. He lands a punch to the side of my head as I try to wrestle the purse from him. While it isn’t the hardest blow I’ve received, it’s enough to piss me off. I grab his throat, digging my fingers into his windpipe, nearly crushing it in my grip. He squirms underneath, the desperation welling in his eyes as he fights for breath. I reel back my fist and let it fly, aiming to crack his skull against the ground.

As my fist gets closer and closer to his head, time crawls to a standstill. Minji’s voice echoes in my head: “You’re a good person, Yuno. I just wish you would stop getting into trouble.” I mean, he deserves it, he’s a thief. He steals some poor girl’s purse, he deserves a good beating. And yet, I pull back at the last moment, knocking him out instead of outright shattering his jaw. While none of his bones are broken, he’ll surely be feeling that once he comes to.

The sound of scattered applause around me pulls me from my adrenaline-fueled haze. It’s only now that I realize people are recording me like a zoo animal, upholding me like I’m some kind of “hero” or something. In reality, I just did what they were too scared to do, but they’re too busy creating their own hyperbolic narratives to see that.

Suddenly, a pair of arms wrap around me in a familiar and oddly comforting anaconda grip.

“Oh my god, thank you so much for getting my purse back, I don’t know how I can- Y-Yuno?”

That voice. Is it?

“M-Minji?”

I turn to look at the source of the voice, inadvertently meeting her eyes, mere inches away. Thick-rimmed glasses adorn her face, like the ones stereotypical nerds wear. Technically, she is a nerd, but a really cute one. She still has me in her grip, but if I’m being honest, I never want to leave it. It’s like the warmth of a weighted blanket, but… cuter. God, I think I’m going insane.

Fortunately (or rather unfortunately), Minji lets go, finally giving me room to breathe. This weird, fluttering feeling in my stomach remains (Is this what people mean by butterflies?).

“S-sorry about that, uh… Th-thanks, Yuno…” She mutters, her gaze never leaving the ground.

“Y-yeah, no problem…”

“Yuno!” My dad calls out to me, running in our direction. “Jesus, you're fast… huff… Are you alright?” He glances over at the thief’s unconscious body as two mall cops drag him away. “You certainly did a number on him, huh? Impressive.” He pats my shoulder, giving me a proud smile.

The clop of expensive high heels draws our attention, growing louder and louder with each step.

“Minji! Are you okay, dear?”

Minji’s mom appears, checking her for injuries.

“I-I’m okay, mother. Um, you remember Yuno, right?” She awkwardly gestures towards me, leading her mom’s gaze. With her cold gaze studying my expression, It’s like I have a sniper dot placed firmly onto my forehead, ready to blow my brains out if I so much as cough in her direction.

“Ah yes, I remember. Thank you for getting Minji’s purse back, although I could’ve easily purchased another one for her.” Her lips curl into a smile, but I can clearly see the disdain evident in her eyes. It’s almost like she knows I can see it and is doing it on purpose.

“And you must be his father, I presume.”

“Yup, that’s me, I’m his dad alright,” he says with a friendly chuckle. “Ian Lin, it’s nice to meet you.” My dad extends a hand towards her, which she accepts with clear reluctance in her movements, although he doesn’t notice this.

“Well, I would love to chat, but we must get going. Minji dear, go and pick up the bags, we’re heading to the tailor to get your new dresses fitted,” she says to Minji before waltzing off without another word, leaving her daughter to pick up a mountain of shopping bags. Looking at her, it’s hard to believe that someone as unconditionally kind as Minji was born from that unassuming she-devil. Maybe Minji is adopted or something.

“I-I should get going,” Minji says, panting with exhaustion. “B-bye, Yuno.”

“Wait.” I reach out and grab some of the bags from her. “Let me help you.”

“Oh, you don’t have t-”

“I want to.”

The words come out before I have time to think about them. Minji blushes as she hands a few of the bags over to me. Meanwhile, my dad whips over to the other side of her and offers his assistance.

“May I?” He asks, reaching his arm out towards the rest of the bags. Minji concedes with a sigh, shooting him a grateful smile.

“Thank you, I was, uh, really struggling before,” she admits.

The three of us follow loosely behind Minji’s mother. No wonder she didn’t text me, I don’t think I would have the luxury of breathing when I’m around a terrifying woman like that. Still, it does put me at ease a bit knowing Minji wasn’t exactly ignoring my text. Seeing her in person is way better than a couple of words on a screen.

“Minji, right?” My dad asks her, making small talk. “Are you and Yuno friends?”

“Yes, Mr. Lin, we are friends.”

Friends. The title feels bittersweet at best, but hearing her admit that without any hesitation in her voice makes my lips curl into a smile, which I hide with a fake cough.

“That’s great, I don’t get to meet a lot of Yuno’s friends. By the way, just call me Ian, Mr. Lin makes me feel older than I already am,” he quips, earning a chuckle from Minji. “I have to ask, what’s Yuno like at school?”

“Yuno is…” She turns to look at me, but my gaze is glued to the ground, too nervous to meet her eyes. “...a bit of a troublemaker…” Damn. “...but he’s a good guy.” Hell yeah.

“That’s good to hear. Y’know, he gets his personality from his mother.” His grin fades for a second before going back to normal. “And he gets his good looks from me.”

The two of them laugh while I silently cringe to myself, a dull throbbing hitting my temples. Never in a million years did I imagine the two of them ever meeting, let alone holding a conversation like this. It’s kinda nice in an off-putting way. Better than letting Minji meet him as a grieving alcoholic.

“Hurry up dear,” Minji’s mom calls out to her, walking into the tailor shop.

“Welp, this is my stop. Thank you for the help, but I can take it from here,” Minji says. She takes the bags from us, lightly gracing my hand, sending a jolt of electricity through my body. “Bye Yuno and it was nice meeting you, Mr. Li- er, Ian.”

A disappointed sigh leaves my lips as I watch her disappear into the shop. She was right there, close enough for me to catch a whiff of her lavender-scented perfume. I’ve been waiting all day for a text from her, yet my stupid feelings made me too nervous to speak.

“You like her, don’t you?”

My head snaps towards my dad, a sly smirk dancing on his lips. My eyes grow wide in shock, “W-what, n-no… I-I just, uh… W-whatever…”

“I know that look anywhere, Yuno. It’s the same one I gave your mother before we started going out,” he explains. My face sinks into my hands, the overwhelming urge to disappear consuming me.

______________________________________________________________

Minji’s POV

My family has frequented this specific tailor shop at the mall for numerous occasions over the years, we even went here to get my school uniform properly fitted before the school year started. The shop has one sole worker, a kind yet quiet old man. He’s skilled at his job, but my only issue with him is that he continuously pokes me with sewing pins while taking my measurements.

“Mother, why do I- Ow! Why do I need so many new dresses for my wardrobe- Ow! None of these clothes are things I would wear casually.”

She sighs. “I suppose we’ll have to tell you eventually.”

“Tell me what?” I ask, my brow furrowing.

“We’re doing a business collaboration with the Park family and we thought it would be a good idea to hold a banquet this Tuesday to mark the beginning of our partnership. We haven’t seen them in a while, so we figured it would be a good idea to catch up.”

The Park family? “Okay, but if it’s for the business, then why do I have to go?”

“Their son, Sunghoon, will be in attendance, so we expect you to do the same.”

Sunghoon. Just the name alone sends a shiver down my spine. I thought I finally got rid of him after he moved away in middle school, but no. He’s finally come back to haunt me.

“U-uh, I have school that day a-and I have a test coming up that I need to study for and-”

“Your father and I think that the opportunity to network and make connections with influential people in the industry will be more beneficial to you than a high school test that you can make up anyway. Besides, don’t you want to see your old friend Sunghoon again? I remember how hard you cried after he moved away.”

No, Mother, those were tears of JOY. My parents have been close friends with the Parks since they attended the same college together, so naturally (and incorrectly), they assumed that their kids would be close as well. Sunghoon got along well with my brother, but he was an absolute menace towards me. He would call me names, steal my things, and talk bad about me to his annoying group of friends. No matter how much I cried to my parents about him, they always gave me the outdated, misogynistic line of “boys will be boys.” When his family finally moved away during middle school, I couldn’t have been more thrilled, literally crying tears of joy knowing that I would never have to see him ever again. But of course, fate is a cruel mistress, making everything go right for a couple of years before stabbing me in the back with a Sunghoon-shaped knife.

“But mother, I-”

“We’re just asking you to attend the banquet for a couple of hours and mingle. Why do you have to make things difficult?”

A dejected sigh leaves my lips. There’s no getting through to her at this rate. At least I have a day to mentally prepare myself before the banquet. Right now, I plan to say hi to him to keep up appearances and then avoid him like the plague for the rest of the event. Piece of cake, right?

My gaze falls to my purse, sitting on a bench a few feet away. A thought plants itself into my head like a seedling, growing and growing into a full-blown idea. Maybe there’s a way that I can make this banquet a little more bearable.

______________________________________________________________

The second we make it into the house, I kick my shoes off by the front door and dash upstairs towards my room, ignoring the calls from my mother to put them away properly. By the time we finished up at the tailor, my phone had somehow died in my purse, making me antsy the whole drive home.

I burst through my room, practically leaping towards the charger.

“Come on, hurry up,” I plead, praying that it will somehow make the phone turn on faster. Thankfully, it only takes a few seconds to light up with life. I quickly scroll through my messages, typing up a quick text to the person who will be most vital to plan.

Yuno: Good Morning.

Minji: heyyy! can i call u? i have something important to ask

______________________________________________________________

Yuno’s POV

I stop dead in my tracks, almost dropping the bag of groceries in my hands as I scan my phone screen over and over again. Does she really want to talk… to me?! On the phone? What could she want to ask me? Is she gonna-

“Hello? Earth to Yuno.” My dad waves his hand in front of my face, pulling me from my trance. “I can’t have you stand in the middle of the kitchen while I cook dinner,” he chuckles.

“A-ah, right. Sorry.” I move to put the groceries away, but he stops me.

“I can put the rest of the groceries away. It’s clear you would rather be doing something else right now.” He gives me a knowing smile as I briskly make my way towards the stairs, grabbing the bag with my new sweater in it. Right before I head up, I turn to my dad one last time.

“Um, thanks for taking me to the mall. It was… nice.”

He chuckles to himself before waving me off. I go to my room and shut the door behind me, typing a quick reply to Minji.

Minji: hey! can i call u? i have something important to ask

Yuno: Sure.

An overwhelming wave of suspense hits me, filling my mind with an endless mountain of questions. My phone buzzes to life with Minji’s name and I quickly swipe to answer her call.

“Hello!”

Her voice rings clearly through the speakers like the soothing sound of a gentle breeze. I’m somewhat glad she didn’t ask to talk in person, otherwise, she would see the obvious blush on my face.

“H-hi. Um, what did you want to ask me?”

“Oh right! It’s kinda weird, but… Are you doing anything on Tuesday night?”

My heart thumps loudly in my chest. Is she asking me on a…?

“N-no, why?” I can’t stop my voice from quivering with nervous excitement.

“Well…” She sighs. “It’s a bit of a long story, but basically, my parents are holding a banquet for the family business on Tuesday and if you’re not busy, I was wondering if you wanted to go… with me.”

“A-as your date?” The words come out before I can even think to stop myself from saying them. You fucking idiot, why would you say that!? Minji is gonna think you’re weird now! “S-sorry, I didn’t mean-”

“T-technically speaking, you would be my… date.”

A loooooooooong awkward pause ensues. My heart is beating so loud, I’m worried she’ll be able to hear it through the phone. TV static and white noise run through my mind as I stand in the middle of my room, frozen in disbelief.

“Um, hello? Yuno?”

“Y-yeah, I’m here, s-sorry,” I manage to croak out. “Why do you want me to go? Wouldn’t it be better if you invited your other friends instead?”

“There’s this guy that’s gonna be there and I would really like to avoid him, so I figured I could bring you instead of the girls and maybe he’ll… y’know.”

My heart sinks a little. “You want me to be there to scare him off?”

“...Well, when you say it like that, it sounds mean.” Her tone turns apologetic. “I’m sorry, Yuno, you don’t have to come if you don’t want to-”

“I’ll go.” Maybe I’m just a hopeless love-stricken fool who’s willing to toss away any ounce of self-respect I have left for a girl he likes, but it’s not like I’m doing anything interesting on a Tuesday night anyways. Plus, banquets usually have free food, and if Ms. Kim’s cooking is any sign of things to come, it’ll probably be really good.

“I’m sorry if it seems like I’m using you, I just really need a friend to help get me through the banquet. Y’know, it feels like I have to keep reminding you that we’re friends, Yuno,” she says.

I collapse onto my bed, staring up at the ceiling fan as it spins in place. “Sorry, I’m still getting used to having friends.”

“It’s okay, I’m probably not doing a great job at being a good friend. It feels like you’re always helping me with something and I haven’t paid you back at all.”

“What do you mean?” I ask.

“First, you saved me from that drunk guy in front of the convenience store, and then the spider in the Ferris wheel, and now today with the purse thief, and now I’m asking you to go to a banquet with me because I don’t want to see some guy. You’re always doing things for me and I haven’t done the same for you.”

“That’s not true,” I refute. “What about the time I walked you home and it started raining, so you let me sleep on your couch so I wouldn’t get sick from the rain?”

“See, I only did that because you offered to walk me home. You’ve done a thousand things for me, and I’ve only done one thing for you. I think I’m a pretty bad friend-”

“That doesn’t make you a bad friend at all!” I yell out without realizing it. Minji goes quiet, the only thing I can hear is my anxious heartbeat and her quiet breathing. “S-sorry, I-I didn’t mean to yell…” Fuck, I made it awkward. “I, uh… You’re not a bad friend, is what I’m trying to say. U-um, you’re very kind and understanding, even to someone like me. I know I don’t have a lot of friends, but I know for sure that you’re a good one. You help me out more than you realize.”

There’s a long pause before Minji speaks again. “...Okay, first of all, I don’t like being yelled at, but I will accept your apology since you had good intentions.” I let out a sigh of relief, but the ache in my chest still lingers. Her tone is much more serious than it was a second ago. “Second of all, what do you mean “people like you?””

“Y’know…” I think carefully before I speak, treading through eggshells while I search for the right words. “You said it yourself when we were at the mall, I’m a troublemaker.”

Minji sighs. “Okay, that’s my bad, but I also said that you’re a good guy. You can convince yourself that you’re a bad person all you want, but that doesn’t mean you deserve to be lonely. I want you to be surrounded by people who love and care about you, Yuno.”

God, she’s so perfect. What did I do in my past life to meet an angel like her? “Th-thanks, Minji.”

“Of course. What are friends for?”

Friends. A word that felt so foreign and unattainable until recently. It still feels weird to digest, but a good kind of weird. The kind of weird that makes me feel excited for what’s to come, even though I have no clue what to expect. It’s like exploring an unexplored part of the world, no map, no research, simply traveling on pure curiosity alone. You might discover something frightening, yet you continue to dig because of the possibility that there’s something beautiful once you get to the other side.

Maybe “friendship” is as far as Minji and I are meant to go. Yet I continue to dig and dig through all these new, exciting, and terrifying experiences, because despite my whole internal monologue this morning about how we’re so different, about how she’s a shooting star and I’m a lowly cockroach, I desperately want to see what happens when I get to the other side. I am irrevocably, completely, and (most importantly) foolishly in love with Minji Kim.

#newjeans #kim minji #newjeans minji #kpop fanfic #kpop gg #minji x male oc #newjeans minji x male oc #minji x male reader #newjeans minji x male reader #fluff #minji fluff #newjeans minji fluff

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fangirl-dot-com · 10 months

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Chapter 5 - Put it into Speed Drive

Longer chapter this time! The next update probably won't be until Tuesday, and or Wednesday night and then Thursday.

For planning, after 2023 is up, I will not be keeping up with the actual schedule for the races. The chapters will still come in chronological order, but it won't be week by week. This will be the start of the parallel universe.

If you want to be added to the tag list, please comment! And now enjoy the show :)

You were practically buzzing after the suit fitting. It was just one step closer to getting you in the car. Which would happen very soon. Sunday to be exact. Tomorrow. There were just so many words to describe how soon it was.

You went from no open doors in F1 to a door that was blown to bits and then shredded, leaving a giant hole for you to just walk through. However, your daydreams of blowing doors up were interrupted by the growl of you stomach. You walked through the door of the fitting room and found Vito right where you left him.

Such a good manager.

He was talking to someone though, and you really didn’t want to interrupt. But, your stomach was about to commence in the whale mating call song and you really didn’t want anyone to hear that. Your eyes glanced around before they landed on Mitch, who seemed to just be typing on her tablet.

You quickly walk over and tap her on the shoulder. “Mitch, uh, where would I be able to find some food?”

She looked up from her tablet with a smile. Dang, did she just smile at everything?

“I can take you to get some food if you’d like me to?” she responded. You quickly nodded your head. Taking the lead, Mitch started to walk over to the other side of the sim room. How many rooms were connected to this place? You wondered as she opened a door.

“This room is one of the more private areas, which in return, gets its own side of the building. From here you’re able to reach just about any other place.” Now that was creepy, could she read your mind?

Your face must have been in a contemplative look as she let out a small laugh. The walk was short as the two of you entered an all-while room. A small cooking bar was to the left while tables and chairs littered the rest of the floor. Your mouth was wide open.

You told Mitch, “Dams is not this nice.” A pout came from you.

“Well, now you don’t have to be jealous. You know that you work here now,” she reminded you as she took a tray and began to walk down the bar. You followed her doing and picked up your own tray. Looking up, you gazed over the menu, trying to find something that looked like it would fit in your diet.

“By the way, everything here is supposed to go hand in hand with a driver’s diet. So pick anything you’d like,” a voice said from behind the counter. A woman with a hairnet smiled as you finally decided on a club sandwich with some chips (the crunchy kind – not French fries). Once you got your food, you walked over to the table next to the window where Mitch was already sitting.

You quickly remember that you practically left Vito, so you shot him a quick text letting him know where you were. In typical fashion, she just sent a thumbs up emoji. What a dad.

The two of you ate in silence for a bit, before Mitch spoke up.

“So kid, tell me a little bit about yourself.” She took a bite of her sandwich.

You quickly swallowed. “Uh, I’m 20 years old. I’m from a lot of places, didn’t really stay in one place for long. The longest I stayed anywhere was Texas for 5 years (a.n. shameless plug). I’m pretty introverted and don’t normally talk to others first. I have a little apartment in Nice, but now I think I should look for one close to here. I am an only child. And Danny DeVito is my spirit animal.”

Mitch almost spit out her drink as her shoulders began to shake. That also got you laughing. “What about you?” you questioned back. You were beginning to feel sad because your sandwich was almost gone.

“Well, I am 35. I have been at Red Bull for two years now. I was an engineer before this and worked on the car. I don’t have any kids.”

You interrupted her, “Well now you do.” You pointed at yourself before taking a giant slurp of your drink.

She rolled her eyes before continuing, “I’ve lived in London my whole life. I have a degree in engineering as well. And my favorite season is fall.”

Small talk continued as you finished your lunch, or almost dinner. As you looked out the window, you saw that the sun was about to begin to set. You hadn’t realized how long everything had taken. A yawn escaped your lips as you and Mitch made your way back to the simulator room. There Vito was waiting for you, looking ready to go. Saying goodbye with a hug, you told Mitch that you’d see her bright and early for the test drive.

Not wanting to get left behind, you found yourself sticking to Vito as he guided the two of you back down the poster hallway. At least now you were familiar with the turns and twists. Like the past few days, a car was waiting for you outside. Vito slipped into the driver’s seat while you went around and climbed into the passenger side.

You immediately connected your phone to sound system. You snickered as you chose the song.

Vito groaned when he heard the opening notes. You could only laugh as the beat started to pick up.

“Ah-ah Barbie you’re so fine, you’re so fine you blow my mind. Jump into the driver seat and put it into speed drive,” you sang, directed at Vito. To hear the base a bit more, you turned the volume up. However, when it came to the next verse, and you were about to start yelling, your phone began to ring.

Arthur’s contact photo, one of you at his birthday, popped up. You immediately answered the face time and yelled.

“Dude, you threw off my groove!” His laughs could be heard throughout the car as his face got into the camera range.

“I’m sorry?”

“You should be. What’s up?”

“I wanted to see if you wanted to hang out later tonight? Since I’m here for testing.” You froze and looked at Vito with wide eyes. You quickly pointed your phone towards the roof of the car.

You mouthed, “What do I do?” You were scared. What were you supposed to say? Oh hey Arthur, I actually signed a multi-year contract with Red Bull two days ago. Sorry I couldn’t tell you sooner? You definitely could not do that.

Yet, a slight jut of Vito’s head told you that you could tell him the truth. You inhaled sharply.

“I’m actually not in Paris at the moment.” Arthur paused. . You only hoped that he wouldn’t be mad at you.

“You’re not? I thought you were going to be sim testing.”

“I thought so to. And then I might have gotten a text from…” you muttered the last bit.

“Sorry, I didn’t quite catch that.” He put a hand to his ear.

You huffed before you shouted, clearly overwhelmed. “I got a text from Christian Horner and I’m driving with Red Bull for 2024!” Your shallowed breaths filled the air. Vito’s hand was placed on your knee for comfort.

“Well, duh. I knew that dummy?”

“Hello?” you could only get out. Who told him?

“You do know that even though my brother may not seem to be friends with Max, they actually are. And Max likes to talk, so he told my brother and my brother told me.” Your eyes must have been bulging.

“I’m sorry I didn’t tell you sooner,” you sighed, “I didn’t know if I could.”

Arthur responded, “It’s quite alright. It was fun making you panic for a moment.”

“You’re an ass. First you interrupt my wonderful concert that Vito was enjoying…”

“I was not,” Vito leaned towards the phone.

“As I was saying, men the woman is speaking, and then you decide to make me almost spiral into a panic attack. Not nice TurTur.” You wiggled your finger at the screen.

He smiled, “I’m actually here in London as well. Thought you might want some company. And Vito invited me to see you drive tomorrow. I’m waiting in your room.” He showed you a room that was almost identical to the one you had at the hotel. You squealed at the thought of seeing him.

It was a good thing that the car had pulled up to the hotel, because you seat belt flew off in record time. You barely were able to get a quick thank you to the workers before you got to the elevator. You’re sure you pressed the buttons too many times, but the damn thing wouldn’t open any quicker.

The moment the doors open, you bolted inside, but came into contact with a body, that knocked the two of you over. You said a quick apology before darting to the side and getting in the elevator. You barely saw a neon hoodie and some brown curls before the doors closed.

Pressing hard down on your floor button, you willed the elevator to move quicker. After what felt like forever, the box dinged. You dashed down the carpeted hallway as you took your key card out of your pocket.

Although you barely swiped it, the lock beeped and let you into the room.

Arthur was not expecting you to all but tackle him as you dive bombed into his arms. The forced knocked the both of you off the bed. The pile of limbs and bodies that you and your best friend were ended up in a pile on the floor. You could not stop laughing as you held him tighter.

You needed him, especially after these past stressful days. Remembering what he did earlier, you pulled back and started to hit him. His hands raised up and tried to defend against your much smaller hands.

“You” -hit- “are” -smack- “an” -whack- “ass Arthur Leclerc.”

“Ouch woman, you hurt me,” he feigns as he puts a hand on his heart. Your attacks died down as you hauled yourself off the floor. You held out a hand, he took it, and you lifted him as well. But the moment he was upright, you pushed him over on the bed. His giggles left his mouth. Instead of getting up like you thought he would, he snuggled more into your bed.

You might as well join him. Hiking your leg up, you rolled him over some before slotting yourself in the space next to him. He let out a noise of complaint, even though he basically opened you with opened arms.

“I’m glad you’re here. It’s been very stressful,” your words were muffled as you put your head on his chest.

He let out a scoff, “Sure. You’ve been playing around in the top of the line simulator.”

Whack.

“Would you stop that?” he questioned as he dug his fingers into your sides. Laughter soon tumbled out of your lips before you could stop them.

“Arthur, stop it!” You tried to force his hands away. But because of your smaller build, he was able to continue the attacks.

A knock at the door saved your life. You all but rolled off the bed, out of Arthur’s arms, and walked to the door. However, you flipped Arthur off before your hand reached the knob. On the other side of the door, Vito stood with his phone in his hand. He looked up once the door was all the way opened.

“Hi Vito. What’s up?” you asked with head cocked to the side.

“You two up for some karaoke?” He looked over your shoulder at Arthur, who was still sprawled on the bed.

“I’m down for it. Hey Arthur!” you yelled, Vito wincing at the volume.

Arthur’s head popped up. “Yeah?”

“Karaoke?”

He smirked. “Hell yeah.”

A couple of hours later, you found yourself with Arthur in a karaoke room. Vito had been blacked out for a while on the couch.

“COUNTRY ROAD, TAKE ME HOME, TO A PLACE, WHERE I BELONG!” Arthur sang into the very cheap looking microphone.

You continued, sounding as equally bad, “WEST VIRGINA, MOUTAIN MOMMA, COUNTRY ROAD, TAKE ME HoOOoooOOOmE!”

The song ended and you and Arthur took a mock bow.

Arthur chanted, “Next song, next song, next song.” Yeah, he was definitely gone.

“Since you ruined this earlier, I’m picking this one.” You clicked on a button. The familiar beats from earlier that day filled the small room. Arthur groaned from beside you. “Nuh-uh. This is your faut, and now you have to pay the price.”

Half-heartedly, Arthur began to sing, “She my best friend in the whole world.” He pointed at you while singing the lyrics. You placed your hands on your chest and mocked a sincere look. He only shoved your head away and continued.

You decided that standing on the table was a good place to sing the chorus, “AH AH BARBIE YOU’RE SO FINE, YOU’RE SO FINE YOU BLOW MY MIND”

Arthur finally got into it, “JUMP INTO THE DRIVERS SEAT AND PUT IT INTO SPEED DRive…” the music was suddenly shut off.

An angry looking worker walked in and told you to get off the table and to leave for the night. You sheepishly got down, walked over to Vito with Arthur, woke him up, and you three were on your way.

The two of you looked like kids who had to be taken home after getting in trouble with the principal at the school. However, that wouldn’t stop the snickers and giggles that soon filled the whole car, Vito included.

You were glad that it wasn’t too late. The next morning would be terrible if you didn’t have a good night’s sleep.

Arthur made sure to get what time everyone was leaving before retiring to his room for the night. You made sure to post some things on your Instagram story before heading to bed.

You were surprised you had gotten some sleep, because when you woke up, you couldn’t stop shaking. Not know if it was from excitement or nervousness, you got ready quickly. There was a fruit bowl in your room. For breakfast, you indulged in a banana and an orange. Vito probably arranged for a bigger breakfast to be served at the practice track.

You met up with Arthur and Vito in the lobby. You nudged him as you walked passed.

“You ready?” he asked as he followed you to the car that was waiting under the walkway.

“As I’ll every be.” There was a slight hitch in your tone that told Arthur everything he needed to know.

After the two of you climbed into the back seats, and Vito in the passenger seat, Arthur put his arm around you. Just the feeling of his company helped to ease the anxiety that was bubbling inside you. It seemed to grow with each corner that got you closer and closer to the track.

There would be quite a few people there today, more than you would like. But each person was necessary. The track was farther and out of the city.

You knew that Mitch would have your suit and helmet ready for you once you got there. You would be debrief on the track and how the car should behave. You would be doing a mock race, but it would still be shorter than most races – about 50 laps or so.

Your goal that you had gone over with Mitch would be to set one of the fastest test laps. Your time to beat was 1 minute and 19.721 seconds. You thumbs-upped the message and said that you’d try your best.

The car slowed down as it approached the entrance. And before you knew it, you were in your suit and balaclava as Mitch talked with you once more before you started getting in the car. It was one of the newer cars, the RB 17.

You saw Christian approach and you checked over a few more things.

“You like the car?” he asked, nodding his head over to the machine behind him.

“I love it. Can’t wait to see how she drives. Was she driven for any races?” You were curious and wanted to know.

He smirked. “That is Max’s championship car.” Your hands froze, holding your zipper. You looked up at Christian, eyes wide. You gulped.

“Aha, very funny.”

“I’m not joking.” His face was deadpanned.

“Well, I will try to be careful with it.” He only laughed and put a hand on your shoulder.

“You just drive the car like you normally do. The sim showed me everything I need to know.” With that, he walked closer to the wall and put a on a set of headphone.

“No pressure Y/n,” you told yourself. Breathing in and out, you put your helmet on. Arthur decided to walk up and clip the two straps for you, something he often did before your races. You both did your little handshake before he patted you shoulder. He was also given some headphones, along with Vito. They were all counting on you.

You stepped closer to the car. Lifting your leg, you swung it over, then the other. You shimmied down into the car and connected the things that needed to be connected. The men around you started to lower the car and take off the different machinery. You would start the track on medium tires. You were told that after the first half, you could switch to the softs if you think you needed to.

The final parts of the car were put on and you were handed the steering wheel. You carefully placed the connect parts together as you felt the car turned on. You could feel it almost breathing. It was alive.

You were able to taxi the car out onto the mock grid.

“Alright Y/n, radio check,” Mitch’s voice came on through your helmet.

“If I can have a walk up song for Vegas, I heard a rumor that that was coming back, and if I get introduced, can it be Life is a Highway? Please?”

“Radio is working,” Mitch responded.

“Please Mitch?” you prodded. You heard a sigh as you smiled.

“We can discuss later. I will ask Christian.” You did a small pump of your hands before getting back into the zone. From where you were, you had a good view of the lights.

Breathe in. Breathe out. Speed. I am speed.

Red. Red. Red.

Green.

Your feet hit the pedals and off you went for the “warming up” lap. The track had a good mix of straights and turns to warm up the tires.

The first few laps after went smoothly. But, you knew it wasn’t time for your flying lap. To keep it fair, the past drivers only had one lap to set a time.

You pressed the button for the radio, “There seems to be some unbalance on Turn 5. I don’t know if it’s the track or the car.” Your voice sounded rattly.

“Checking,” Mitch responded back at the “pit lane.”

Christian piped up from her right, “Max has said that before about that exact turn. It’s uncanny.”

“Ok kid, it seems like it might be an issue with the track. Try to avoid it by slowing down to go wide, but accelerate going out of the apex.”

“Roger,” you responded. On the next lap, you did exactly that. And you were pleased to see that it actually worked.

“Balance of the car is good.”

“Thank you Y/n.”

“Can I come in for softs? I want to try the flying lap.”

“Ok, box for softs.”

You pulled your car into the pit lane. It wasn’t the fastest pit stop you’ve had, but it really didn’t matter. You did a few laps on the softs. Although you knew the track would eat them up, you also knew that you did your best laps on slightly used softs.

Christian spoke up again, “She knows that softs run out quickly. She should have done the flying lap on the first one.”

Now, Arthur talked first, “She does all of her best laps on slightly used softs. It’s how she’s won so many races. Because Y/n knows her tires better than anyone.” Christian hummed as he watched your dot go around the animated track.

The radio beeped as a message came from your car, “I’m gonna go for it. Starting the flying lap.”

Mitch responded, “Copy.” The team waited with baited breath and you seemed to glide around the turns.

You were truly one with whatever car you drove.

The clocked seemed to tick in slow motion as you finally came to the last straight. Once you passed the line, you slowed down just a bit.

“Ok Mitch, how did I do?” you asked.

She breathed before responding, “One minute, nineteen point 7 seconds. Congratulations kid, you have broken our current record. Your cheers could be heard over the radio. They mixed with the team’s own cheering as well. You were just .021 seconds faster than whoever held the previous record. And you did it in a two, almost, three year old car.

“Who used to hold the position?”

This time, Christian’s voice came on over the radio, “It was Max, kid.”

You let out a laugh of disbelief, before realizing that Christian was on the radio.

“Christian, can my walk up song for Vegas be Life is a Highway. Please.” You waited for his answer.

“Sure kid.”

“Yes! Best day ever! Can I got another lap? I want to put this baby into speed drive. Vito! Arthur!”

“On it kid.”

“Got it Y/n!”

You guessed one of them held their phones to the radio. This time you would hear the entire song. You knew it. You shimmied back down into the seat and floored the throttle.

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#charles leclerc x reader #f1 x reader #f1 imagine #f1 x driver!reader #max verstappen x reader #platonic grid x reader #arthur leclerc x reader #carlos sainz x reader #formula 1 x you #lando norris x reader #oscar piastri x reader #logan sargeant x reader #george russell x reader #lewis hamilton x reader #alex albon x reader

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moonlitstoriess · 3 months

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Across the Universe-ch.9 (Fenrys x Reader)

Summary: Y/n has everything she needs in life. A family, friends, a safe place she calls home and most importantly a male whom she loves. What happens when it all changes when Y/n finds out about the betrayal of her lover and her so called family? Well, ending up in Terrasen and in queen Aelin's court was not what she expected but what she will need to start her new journey full of surprises.

See masterlist

Is this real? Is any of it even real?

Amren....this is Amren.....well, she had a ghost body and bright light all around her but it still IS her!

"Amren!"

The hope that fluttered in y/n's chest was unimaginable. It felt so good to finally see someone from your world. Even if you do not consider that someone as a friend anymore. But...whatever it takes to leave this place. Even if a tiny part of her was refusing the idea.

Amren's eyes widened slightly as she spoke, her voice imbued with an otherworldly resonance from the magic. "Y/n! Fucking finally!"

Y/n tried coming closer but Fenrys grabbed her waist and pulled her back to his chest. She tried moving but his strong grip wouldn't budge and when she looked at his face, it showed no emotion but a warriors gaze, daring Amren to even try something.

She sighed but looked back at Amren, who was watching the interaction with an amused look, "Amren...how? I-what is going on? I mean, I have been trying to come back but so far it's not working. How did you find me? Is the Book of Breathings with you?"

The female replied while still keeping her narrowed gaze on the male behind y/n "It's a long story and I do not have much time but yes I came here after managing to break through the book's spells. Clearly not with my physical body though. We have been searching for ways to bring you back ever since you left. Azriel has been going feral, even threatened to kill Rhysand if you aren't back saf-"

"You expect me to believe that? You all lied to m-"

"There is no time for this sappy nonsense talk, girl. We can all discuss it when all of this craziness is over and you're back. There is not enough time. Listen to me, I finally found where you are so just wait a little longer and we will get to you-"

"Amren no, you don't understand. There are gates opening, evil beings are coming back and I somehow am the one who needs to be the one to close those gates and then come home and...we have to kill those evil beings an- you probably have no idea what I am talking about but listen to me, I need the Book of Breathings. How can you send it to me?"

Amren's figure started to slowly disappear "I just managed to get to you, find your location after a whole month of searching and now you are telling me that I need to find a way to send the book to you? I don't understand-"

"Months? It has only been a week here-"

Amren was almost gone now "Time is different in each world girl. Just be patient a little more. We will find a way."

"No! Amren, the gate-"

Rowan, Aelin and Manon came running into the room, a shocked expression overtaking their features when they sew what was going on.

Amren looked at them before her figure completely disappeared and all the traces of an ancient magic left the room.

Aedion looked at her and Fenrys, who was still clutching her tightly to his chest, before saying "Well, are any of you planning to explain what the fuck this was?"

Fenrys seemingly cooled down becuse the second Aedion finished talking, he silently unwrapped his arm from around her and moved back. Why was she feeling sad because of it? Get your hormones together y/n.

She cleared her throat and spoke "The female you saw, she is from my world and apparently they have been searching for me for a whole month. She said now that she knows I am here, they will try their best to get me back but I tried telling her about the gates and that I need the Book of Breathings but she...she didn't underst- anyways there wasn't enough time and....well, yes."

They looked at Fenrys to see if she was lying or not but when he just nodded in confirmation, they stared at her with varying expressions. It was Manon who spoke first, her voice sharp "Your people are coming here?"

"Well, yes....maybe? They want to get me out of here, not to cause any troubles so..relax."

Aelin just sighed before heading towards the door, followed by the other two "This was definitely not how I planned my afternoon to go."

Once everyone had left, y/n also moved towards the door when his voice stopped her "So, Azriel is going mad for you?"

She turned around to see him staring out the window, not looking at her. But if those clenched hands were any indicator, Fenrys was clearly mad.

She scoffed "Out of everything that just happened, you only care about that?"

When Fenrys remained silent, y/n sighed softly. "Don't believe it. He's probably just struggling with guilt."

With those words hanging in the air, she left the room and headed towards the royal gardens, leaving Fenrys alone with his thoughts.

Too much. This was too much for her. She just wanted to go home. To leave all this behind. Why her? Why is she even special when all her life she was told the opposite? Why can't it all stop?!

Y/n was so deep in her thoughts that she didn't even realize where she ended up in the garden. It was a small, wooden gazebo that had roses of all colors covering its sides and roof. But what caught her attention the most was the blond queen sitting inside it, eyes closed and head tilted back, resting against the wood.

Seems like Aelin also was seeking a moment of peace. Best to turn around and leave-

"Don't go."

Y/n turned around to see the female in the same position with her eyes still closed. She hesitantly came closer and sat a little further away from the queen.

Aelin sighed before speaking "This place is where I find sanctuary when it all gets too much to handle."

Y/n nodded slightly as she looked towards the gardens, the birds chirping bringing her a sense of comfort, as she relaxed against the wooden pillar behind her.

"I understand you, you know. I understand how it feels to hide yourself, your secrets, from the world. To think of yourself as so unworthy, that you are doing a favor to your loved ones by hiding your true self from them."

Y/n's shock and confusion was evident on her face as she looked at her "What? I don- How?"

Did she know about the whole witch thing? Did Manon tell her?

Aelin just smirked slightly "You may seem unbreakable but even you sometimes let out your emotions through your facial expressions. And let's not talk about the obvious fact that you are in a different place surrounded by us, strangers. Of course you will feel out of place."

The winged female sighed as she just stared at the view in front of them "It is draining. I don't know what to feel or do anymore. I don't know anything."

At that, Aelin opened her eyes and looked at y/n "You know, everyone thought that I was dead until I got my throne back three years ago."

Y/n whipped her head back around and looked to her side, at the queen "What?!"

Aelin just laughed as she said "Yes! My parents and everyone I ever loved were murdered ten years ago by the King of Adarlan. Long story short, a man....Arobynn, he found me unconscious out in the open in the middle of the night and took me in. Turns out he was the King of Assasins which is why I spent the next seven years of my life under his watch, training to be the best assassin- which I did end up becoming. And all that time, I went under a false name, Celaena Sardothien, it was hilarious! no one ever knew my true identity because I would always dress in black and cover every part of my body, making it impossible for people to even tell my age."

Y/n couldn't believe what she was hearing. This female was not queen the whole time? What?

Aelin just continued with a sigh "But....when I was seventeen it all changed. By that point, I was tired of Arobynn. He was a paradox. He put me through the toughest fights, challenges and missions just to make me into what I am now, he would shower me with gifts, making me filthy rich at such a young age but....he wouldn't hesitate to punish me when I would 'let him down'. He lied when he said that he would let me go, he lied because he saw me as a posession. An object of which he couldn't let go. He was a paradox. A manipulator, caretaker, father, mentor, maybe even lover."

Y/n didn't know when she got closer to the queen, coming to sit right next to her as she silently said "That....I can understand it slightly....while mine wasn't showering me in gifts or training me to be an asassin he would beat me up, do unspeakable things but then he would ask for forgiveness, say its my fault, but he loves me....that he knows what's best for me."

The female beside her nodded her head, needing no explanation on what y/n just said "They may come in different forms but they are all monsters nonetheless. Arobynn indirectly killed the boy I loved and then acted devastated as I cried next to his dead, mutilated body. Then, when I tried to get my revenge, he was the one who informed the enemy and got me sent into a slave camp where I spent a whole year of my life. Dorian and Chaol? I know them because they were the ones to save me from that camp, even though we all hated each other at first. Lysandra? I know her because she was also under his control."

"That....that is horrible. I-I am so sorry I don't even know what to say....is- is he alive now?"

Aelin just gave her a small, sad smile "Don't worry, Lysandra slit his throat when he was asleep. Which was then followed by a shit ton of chaos."

Y/n smiled too, happy to know that this monster also got his deserved end.

"Did you kill yours too?"

She nodded "Yes, he wanted to clip my wings so that I never even thought of leaving him. It was also a stupid tradition. I trained myself, then opened an academy to train others so that they wouldn't go through what I did. It was quite the shock really, a female Illyrian whose wings weren't clipped, training others how to fight."

Aelin's hand on Y/n's shoulder was warm, a gesture of solidarity that spoke volumes more than words ever could. Her proud smile softened the edges of her usually fierce expression.

"You survived," Aelin said softly, her voice carrying the weight of understanding. "And you've grown stronger despite everything. That's what matters."

Y/n nodded, feeling a surge of gratitude toward Aelin. They may have come from different worlds, faced different kinds of horrors, but in that moment, their shared experience of overcoming abuse and manipulation bound them together.

Aelin squeezed her shoulder gently before withdrawing her hand. "We're stronger together," she said firmly. "And we'll make sure no one else suffers like we did."

With those words hanging in the air, Y/n felt a renewed sense of purpose. Despite the darkness of their pasts, there was hope in their shared resolve to protect others from similar fates.

When they left the gardens, they saw others on the training grounds. Fenrys and Rowan were fighting each other, half naked, while Aedion, Manon and Chaol watched from the sidelines, Aedion with his bandaged arm and Chaol with his cane by his side. Eva and Lysandra were sitting on one of the benches while the teen was pointing at the book in her hands, showing something to her. Abraxos was sleeping on the grass.

When they reached Lysandra and Eva, the latter looked up at y/n from her place on the bench “Y/n! You have to read this book! I will give it to you once I am done with it but it has the most exhilarating plot!”

Y/n smiled as she looked at the book “Oh really? Then I can’t wait for it.”

Eva grinned and hugged the book to her chest. “Trust me, you’ll be hooked from the first chapter. The characters are so well-written, and the twists are mind-blowing.”

Lysandra chuckled, shaking her head. “Eva’s been talking about that book non-stop since she started it. It’s a wonder she hasn’t finished it already.”

Eva rolled her eyes playfully. “Well, I want to savor it. It’s not every day you come across such a gem.”

Y/n laughed. “I’ll take your word for it. I’m always on the lookout for a good read.”

Aelin smiled at the small interaction before looking at Chaol with a concerned gaze, “Something happened to Yreene?”

Lysandra sighed, “Apparently. He was sparring with Fenrys when his legs began hurting. Hopefully whatever Yrene is doing with the book, she is taking precautions.”

Before anyone could say anything, Lysandra looked at y/n “Speaking of, care to explain why Fenrys is so riled up that he has been fighting nonstop for the past two hours? Aelin, you might want to check up on your birdie because he looks quite exhausted.”

Once again, before y/n could even begin to reply, she heard a familiar voice behind her say “You liar.”

Aelin and y/n both turned around to see Manon staring at y/n with fire in her eyes.

Y/n and all three females behind her were just as confused as her when she asked, “What are you talking about, Manon?”

The witch just stepped closer to her as she said, “Knew you were a deceiving snake.”

Manon’s fists were clenched, her muscles taut with readiness. “Let’s see if you can lie about this as well, y/n.”

With a sudden burst of speed, Manon lunged forward, her fist aiming straight for y/n’s face. She sidestepped the punch and retaliated with a swift jab to Manon’s ribs. The impact made Manon grunt, but she shook it off quickly, eyes blazing with determination.

Manon countered with a roundhouse kick aimed at y/n’s midsection. She blocked the kick with her forearm, the force of the blow sending a shockwave through her arm. Ignoring the pain, y/n grabbed Manon’s leg and twisted, attempting to throw her off balance. Manon, however, used the momentum to her advantage, flipping gracefully and landing on her feet.

The fight intensified as they exchanged blows with lightning speed. Manon’s fists were like hammers, each punch coming with incredible force. Y/n dodged and weaved, her movements fluid and precise. She countered with a powerful uppercut that connected with Manon’s jaw, sending her staggering back.

She closed the distance, launching a series of rapid punches aimed at Manon’s torso. Manon blocked and deflected, her reflexes sharp. She ducked under a particularly vicious swing and delivered a brutal knee strike to Y/N’s stomach.

The blow knocked the wind out of y/n, but she didn’t go down. Instead, she gritted their teeth and grabbed Manon’s arm, pulling her into a close-quarters grapple. The two struggled for dominance, muscles straining, breaths coming in ragged gasps.

In the distance, she could hear screams and shouts to stop, to just back off. Fenrys’ voice was the loudest of all.

For some reason, y/n turned around to cast him a quick glance and was met with his beyond concerned gaze. It held a mixture of anger, shock and….fear. His breaths were ragged and his hands were shaking as he slowly made his way ove-

A punch to her stomach forced her backwards and onto the ground as she looked back at Manon who just told her “Coward.”

That was it. That was the final straw. Y/n didn’t know when or how she felt it but she did. Her transformation began with a disorienting sensation, her body shifting in ways she couldn't immediately comprehend. A strange taste filled her mouth, the metallic tang of iron, as her gums contorted and stretched, forming into sharp, unforgiving iron teeth. Simultaneously, her nails extended, hardening into gleaming, steel-like claws that seemed to elongate with every passing second.

Everything else became a blur. All the gasps, all the noise, everything but Manon, who was now smirking triumphantly at her.

Y/n lunged for the witch, pinning her down with a snarl that displayed her fangs “You did it all to rile me up. It was an act wasn’t it? You planned it.”

Manon had the audacity to just smirk and shrug her shoulder while still pinned down “It worked though, didn’t it?”

“I will kill you.”

“Go ahead.”

She raised her hand, her iron nails glinting in the sun as she aimed for the queens throat but….she couldn’t do it. Something inside her refused to obey.

With a sigh, she pushed back and away from Manon and got up. Y/n felt as her body shifted back to normal, her nails and teeth disappearing once again.

Silence fell over the area like a heavy blanket, each person frozen in shock. Aelin and Eva's mouths hung open in disbelief, Lysandra's hand instinctively covering hers. Aedion and Chaol stared, their expressions a mix of bewilderment directed at her and then at Manon. Rowan's smile was faint but discernible, while Fenrys stood wide-eyed and rigid, caught between amazement and apprehension.

Aelin closed her mouth and cleared her throat before asking "You- you are an Ironteeth Witch? Why didn't you tell us?"

"Because I didn't know what I was until I came here and even if I did, I consider it a curse so why should I tell you?"

She felt Manon come and stand right beside her as she said with a harsh tone "Call us a curse one more time and see what happens. You are a witch so stop denying it."

Before y/n could reply, Eva shouted "That is so amazing! A witch with wings of her own!"

Lysandra clapped "Well done you two for putting on such a brilliant show."

Y/n sighed as Manon snickered and Aedion muttered an "I am so confused" before earning a small nod in agreement from Chaol who was still questioningly staring at y/n.

Her gaze moved towards Fenrys but he wasn't looking at her anymore. He was staring at the ground with his brows furrowed and when Rowan patted him on the shoulder, he just turned around and left.

Y/n wanted to go after him but was stopped when Aelin and everyone else just came over to her, asking questions.

Fenrys thought that throughout his long life, he had seen enough shocking things that it would take a lot to ever surprise him. Well, apparently everything is different when it comes to y/n. It's like she manages to be the exception to his every thought and feeling.

She is an Ironteeth Witch? How is that even possible, isn't she from a different world? Does her world also have Ironteeth Witches?

Earlier he was angry at....well he had no idea why he was angry. For some reason, even hearing the name Azriel made him want to punch a wall. He also didn't like or trust Amren. In fact, Fenrys didn't like y/n's whole little friend group back in her world. They lied to her, ignored her when she needed a shoulder to cry on-

And why do you care, Fenrys?

Yes, why does he care, exactly? Y/n is only here temporarily. Once they solve the problem, she will go back to her home world and they will never see each other again so why does even the thought of that bother him so much?

Why does the thought of her going back to those liars that call themselves her family make him frustrated?

And worst of all, why does the thought of her going back to Azriel's arms make him want to rip out heads?

For the past hour, she couldn't find Fenrys anywhere and by the time y/n made it to her room, she was too exhausted to even think about anything but sleep. So, she collapsed on the bed and slept her exhaustion of the last few days away.

Four hours later, y/n stood in front of her mirror, assesing her look before dinner.

Thanks to Isolde, her neck was completely healed and looking as smooth as ever. This, of course, meant that she didn't need to wear a turtleneck anymore which is why she chose this simple yet still eye catching dress.

The dress she chose was a masterpiece of delicate craftsmanship, tailored to accentuate her figure in all the right places. Made from a flowing fabric that shimmered with every movement, it draped elegantly over her curves. The neckline was designed to draw attention to her healed neck, framing it gracefully while also accentuating her chest. Intricate embroidery adorned the sleeves and hem, adding a touch of detailed beauty to its otherwise understated elegance. The color, a soft shade of lavender, complemented her complexion, enhancing her natural radiance. Paired with subtle yet tasteful accessories, the dress completed a look that exuded both sophistication and effortless charm.

Not bad, y/n, not bad at all.

With a final look at herself, she opened her door to-

Fenrys was here, leaving his room as well.

Their eyes locked, holding a silent conversation of their own as they appraised each other's appearance. Fenrys stood tall, his hair styled in a casual half bun that allowed strands of golden hair to cascade over his broad shoulders. His attire was both practical and stylish—a crisp white tunic formed the foundation, complemented by a deep forest green vest that added a touch of color and structure. Dark brown pants, tucked neatly into knee-high boots, completed the ensemble, emphasizing the sturdy and agile nature of his build.

Despite the layers of clothing, Fenrys's physique was unmistakable—rippling muscles hinted at strength honed through rigorous training and battles fought. The tunic's sleeves hinted at the definition of his arms, while the vest accentuated his broad chest and shoulders. His stance exuded confidence and readiness, every movement suggesting a poised and capable warrior.

He was absolutely delicious to look at-

Mother above, y/n. Look back at his eyes. Be respectful.

She hesitantly lifted her gaze over to him but lost all her abilitiy to speak when she saw how his dark eyes were practically devouring her. Y/n cleared her throat which made him look back at her with those lust-filled and fierce eyes that made her feel all hot and bothered.

Then, as if coming back to reality, Fenrys straightened and started moving towards the stairs.

No. She had to talk to him. About what? She had no idea but-

"Are you upset with me?"

Once he heard her voice, Fenrys stopped, his back was towards her as he said "Why would I be upset with you?"

Y/n took a small step towards him. "Because you left when it was revealed that I was a....a witch. Because you refuse to look me in the face."

"And since when do you care about my feelings towards you?"

"You are right. I shouldn't but I do- you know what? This was very foolish of me, just forget this ever happened."

When y/n moved past him towards the stairs, she felt his hand grip her wrist, making her turn around to look at him.

Y/n frowned slightly, "Fenrys..."

He hesitated, then spoke in a voice laced with uncharacteristic vulnerability. "I don't trust them," he admitted quietly. "Your people, from your world. They say they want to bring you back, but what if they're not as trustworthy as you think? Didn't you say they neglected you when you needed them the most?"

Y/n sighed, understanding his concerns. "I get it. But they're my people, Fenrys. Even if things between us are complicated, I have known them for over fifty years, enough to know that they wouldn't harm m-"

"But they did. They didn't tell you when your lover was being unfaithful for two years, they didn't do shit as you got worse day by day so why should you trust them now?"

Y/n ripped her arm away from his hold as she turned to fully look at him with a narrowed gaze "What is this about Fenrys? I didn't tell you all this so that you could pity me. It was just a moment of vulnerability and you happened to be the-"

"I know because I understand you."

At her questioning gaze, Fenrys sighed before looking at the ground "Before Aelin, I.....I was.....sort of chained to another queen. Blood sworn, actually. It meant that I was her slave for as long as she pleases and that I could only ever be free of her with my honor intact if she willingly gave me her blessing and freed me from service. If not, then.....anyways what I want to say is that I know what it means to struggle and not have anyone by your side. My brother had his own demons to fight so we never could really lean on one another for support. Rowan, Lorcan and Gavriel they.....they also suffered in their own ways. Maeve made sure to traumatise each one of us differently,"

He couldn't look at her. He closed his eyes and clenched his fists.

Y/n gently put her hand on his chest "Fenrys, you don't have to force yourself to talk about it-"

"It is true, I see Rowan, Lorcan -unfortunately- and Gavriel as my brothers. We went through so much together and I am only standing here today because we made it, together. Gavriel made it too, I know it because I feel his presence sometimes. But even then, we all hid our pain from one another. I always only had myself to heal my own wounds. Both physical and mental."

"Oh my-"

"This is why I want you to be careful, y/n. I never had anyone to soothe my pain and I don't want you going through the same thing. When....when you go back to you world, just leave them. Promise me that you will leave them and find a better place for yourself."

"Fenrys I-"

He looked up from the ground, his eyes holding a hint of determination within them "Promise me, y/n."

She sighed "Yes. I promise, Fenrys."

He slowly nodded his head but made no move to leave and neither did y/n want to remove her hand from his chest.

The comfort Fenrys was feeling right now was unimaginable. He had never felt so at ease, so safe in someone's presence before. Even if the middle of a hallway isn't the most perfect place to experience this. He couldn't care less. He just showed her a part of him he never showed anyone, not even Aelin.

His vulnerability.

And for some reason, he wanted to keep telling her more, and in turn, hear more about her as well.

His gaze fell to her lips as his hands ached to touch her. Fenrys whispered, "You....you don't have a curse. Be proud of yourself and your lineage."

Y/n's came closer as she whispered back, "I....it will take time....getting used to that."

He smiled slightly, "That's fine. I will be proud of you anyway."

He saw her pupils dilate and her eyes widen but it seems like he was under some hypnotic curse because he added, "You...you are really beautiful."

Her lips parted and he saw a blush make it's way onto her adorable cheeks.

"I-thank you. You....you are very attractive as well."

Fenrys couldn't help the smirk that made its way onto his face "Yeah?"

She was a full red tomato now and he thought it was the most adorable sight ever. She replied with a shaky and barely audible voice, "Yeah."

They got closer and Fenrys was about to gently grab her waist when a cough interrupted their moment.

They both immediately detached and turned around to see Eva and Manon. The latter had a huge cheshire grin plastered on her face while the former had the look of a sad puppy.

Manon took eva's hand as they both started walking past y/n and Fenrys but not before Manon said, "See Eva, told you she wouldn't accept your love confession."

The younger girl playfully shoved aside the witch as she whisper shouted, "Shhh Manon! You just announced my crush to the entire kingdom!"

Y/n giggled as she followed them, Fenrys close behind her as she said, "Eva, don't listen to her! She likes to rile everyone up it seems."

Manon turned around with an amused gaze, "Glad you could finally understand that about me."

Y/n glared at her "I am still not done with you."

Manon just smiled and mused "I will keep my door open for you. Make the job easier."

Y/n just scoffed and she could feel Fenrys' chuckle from behind her as she turned her head sideways to look at him. "Something's funny, Fenny?"

She heard the witch chuckle and Eva audibly laugh while Fenrys' eyes widened "What kind of a nickname is that?"

Y/n just smirked and turned her head back around "Didn't like it? What about Fen? Or maybe Rys orrrrr Fenzo!"

Manon was full on cackling now and Eva was about to fall over because of laughing so hard. Fenrys just smiled while shaking his head "Gods save me."

As they reached the doors of the dining room, y/n smiled as she said, "No Gods to save you now. Perhaps you should change it to Aelin save me."

They were all laughing by the time they entered the room and saw the others, except Lorcan and Elide, sitting around. It was nice, yet so unusual to see Manon actually laugh. But, she wouldn't take it for granted, that woman is a paradox. Who knows, she may be laughing now but she may want to kill y/n the next moment.

Y/n just shook her head with a smile as she took her place next to Fenrys on the table. However that smile soon started disappearing when she felt a pair of eyes on her from somewhere in the room, making her feel uncomfortable.

It's just nerves. You are hungry. Just ignore it, the feeling will pass.

Aelin had an amused look as she took a bite out of her meal and said, "I think this may be the first time I ever saw Manon laugh in the past three years."

Manon just rolled her eyes "First and only. Not everyone is lucky enough to see it."

Yrene just said in a playful tone from beside Manon, "Everyone but Dorian right? I bet he gets to see it all the time."

Aedion smirked "Oh, yes. How are you feeling Manon dearest? Your princeling is coming soon."

Lysandra took a sip of her wine "Aelin, make sure that once Dorian is here, you send these two to the furthest part of the palace. They haven't seen each other in months, so it will be our poor ears that will bleed because of their 'union'."

Manon just scoffed and replied dryly, "I'll have you know, princeling's visits are strictly business." She shot a pointed glance at Yrene, who grinned mischievously.

Aedion chuckled, raising his eyebrows suggestively. "Business, huh? I'm sure it's a very serious matter, indeed."

Yrene raised her hands innocently. "Who am I to argue with our King?"

Aelin laughed, shaking her head. "Well, let's hope Dorian's arrival brings some distraction from all this impending doom." She glanced at Rowan, who was deep in conversation with Chaol about strategy.

Lysandra smirked. "If anyone can distract Manon from her duties, it's Dorian."

Manon rolled her eyes again but couldn't hide a small smile.

Everyone, including Fenrys laughed at that and y/n felt a moment of pure bliss, seeing them interact so closely with one another. It reminded her of the inner circle but.....for some reason that didn't make her miss home at all.

But her moment of happiness was still mixed with discomfort as that mysterious gaze kept on burning a hole through her skull. When she turned her head around, she saw a servant girl who was just refilling the pitcher with water.

Everyone around her were busy with conversation, but she still felt uneasy. What was-

Fenrys gently put his hand on hers under the table and looked at her with a concerning gaze. "Are you well?"

She nodded her head slightly but that didn't ease her growing unease that someone was watching her.

The servant girl came closer to her, filled her cup with water and said "Take it."

Y/n just smiled, slightly uncomfortable as she replied, "I'm not thirsty."

The girl just gave her a cruel smile as she said in a sharp tone, "No, take what's coming for you, Winged Fury."

Before y/n could even process what was going on, the servant lunged for her, effectively throwing y/n down as everything around them erupted into chaos.

Y/n felt like she was suffocating as the the girl kept on choking her. From her peripheral vision, she saw Fenrys doing something but....her vision started going dark. This girl was inhumanly strong.

The last thing she heard before darkness enveloped her was "The Valg princes send their regards."

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bishopsbeloved · 8 months

Text

the art of falling in love (part five)

natasha romanoff x fem reader

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

read this fic on ao3!

Death was first explained to you and Yelena when you were six; Yelena’s favourite of her mother’s pigs passed away, and you were both called in from playing outside to be sat down gravely.

“Girls… Wilbur the piggy has, ah, passed away,” Alexi told you. You stared back at him blankly.

“Do you know what that means?” added Melina more gently.

“Uh… Peter from class said his mom and dad passed away,” Yelena offered after a few moments. “And it means that, like, he can’t see them ever again, so he lives with his aunt now.”

“Yes!” said Alexi enthusiastically, before catching himself and adding in a much more solemn tone, “I mean, ah, yes… very sad. Not good.”

Melina looked at him sternly and he fell silent. “You are right, Yelena. When someone passes away, it means they are no longer with us.”

“Like when you go to the store?”

“No. When I go to the store I am always coming back, да? Passing away is permanent, and it means you never see them again.”

“Oh. But I like Wilbur,” said Yelena sadly, and you nodded in agreement.

“That is what makes life all the more precious,” Melina told you gently. “You never know when someone may pass away — only that everybody will, someday. So you must enjoy the time you have with them, my darlings, and never take it for granted.”

As the years went on and the two of you began to understand what death actually means, that first introduction to it became somewhat of a running joke between you and Yelena (because how else can humans deal with such a terrifying concept as death? You can choose to either laugh or cry, and Yelena will always choose to laugh); the idea of someone passing away will often be referred to as going to the store. For example, Alexi is probably the sole man responsible for the entirety of Ohio state’s roadkill — neither you nor Yelena can remember a car journey with him in the wheel during which some unfortunate creature has not stumbled into his path and suffered fatally for that mistake. Every time it happens, without fail, Yelena will turn around eagerly in her seat or poke her head out of the window and assess the damage before gravely announcing, “That one is definitely not coming back from store.”

It’s a euphemism that can be used in any situation — and often is, actually. Whenever the TV signal packs up (as it often does in such a rural town as your own) and the Kardashians begin to cut out awkwardly, Yelena will throw down the remote and shout in frustration “Ma! The fork thingy on the roof has gone store again,” and Melina will know exactly what she means. Or whenever your history teacher Mr Fury hobbles into class, who is so old he looks like he’s witnessed half the events he teaches you, Yelena will nudge you and whisper “he is close to store’s doorstep now, eh?” Et cetera, et cetera. The phrase gets used often.

You feel silly for your mind wandering to those words, given the circumstances. But all you can think of right now is your overwhelming hopes and prayers that Liho has not gone to the store — and that neither has your bond with Yelena. As for Natasha… well, recent times have been a cruel wake-up call.

It’s been a few hours since Melina left with the cat, and the only text you’ve gotten from her since then says cat in surgery now. Yelena has barricaded herself in your shared room — her room now, you think miserably to yourself. You have never, ever seen her so upset, not in your whole life. You don’t think you’ve ever even argued with her, outside of your usual half-hearted play wrestles. But now she’s shouted at you through your thick heavy door, a solid wall between you, putting miles between the two of you but still not enough distance to lessen the brutality of the words she hurls at you from the other side of it. Words you can’t think of for too long or tears will begin to brim in your eyes all over again. Words which you know you deserve, but ones you never thought you’d hear your best friend say to you.

Now you sit uncomfortably stiff on the couch, feeling like a stranger in the home you’ve grown up in, the silence threatening to suffocate you. You feel almost like a prisoner in your body, unable to move as you relieve the last few hours over and over in your head. There’s no doubt in your mind that Yelena is right. You are an awful person. If you weren’t, if you were better, maybe Natasha would still want you, instead of casting you aside once you began to bore her. Maybe if you were better you’d have been sensible or strong enough to not sneak around with her at all. But you’re not, and now you’ve broken apart a family you weren’t even worthy of in the first place.

Natasha is sat in the armchair opposite you, legs curled beneath her, nursing her bloody nose. Her gaze has been fixed on you for the indeterminable amount of time you’ve both been sat here, but you are too exhausted to care. For once, you have much, much bigger problems than her feelings.

Eventually, she speaks, more subdued than usual. “I’m sorry.”

“For what?” Your voice doesn’t sound like yours. It’s somewhere else, someone else’s, far away.

“For…” She hesitates. Like there’s something she doesn’t want to say out loud. “For not, uh. For treating you badly.”

Well, that’s not really what you expected her to say.

Your silence prompts her to flounder further. “I just— I don’t, well, I can’t really explain a lot, but I— I know I messed up. You deserved better. And I’m sorry.”

And you’re so done with her, and so little of yourself is left now that you simply stand up and walk away.

Natasha doesn’t even call after you, just kind of makes this sad and defeated little noise that makes your heart hurt. You know it would just ache even more if you turned around again, though. So you don’t. You walk the hall for a few aimless moments before your feet carry you to the only person currently home who you still have a dependable relationship with — Alexi.

His workshop, as he calls it, is adjoined to the kitchen; a tiny wooden door which he has to bend himself double to fit through, leading to the garage. This has been his space for as long as you can remember. You have no idea how he moves with such ease through it when it’s like a maze to you — huge chunks of greasy half-repaired machinery everywhere, cluttered workbenches and racks of tools and shelves of liquids labelled in his indecipherable Russian scrawl. He often has the tiny tin portable perched on a shelf squeaking out radio shows in his mothertongue which he guffaws merrily at, but as you enter now the room is peacefully quiet, save for Alexi’s disjointed hums of a thousand songs in one and the little chink noises the piece of metal he’s working on makes every time he hits it, slowly bending it into shape.

“Ah, привет! Good evening, daughter,” he says cheerfully, without even turning around as you creep up barefoot behind him. He doesn’t say anything more, and neither do you, for a while; you opt to simply sink down onto one of the wooden stools littered about the place and watch Alexi absently while he works. This doesn’t faze him at all. On the occasions where Yelena was busy without you as a kid, you would do this very thing. Alexi would simply chuckle at you and ruffle your hair with a large bearish hand, oftentimes leaving behind little smudges of black motor oil in it. You’re still in your prom outfit, though, with your hair done up intricately, so tonight he stops himself in time.

“Do you think Liho will be okay?” you ask after a while, in a very small voice.

“Oh, да,” he replies, without hesitation. Even with his back to you as he tinkers busily you can hear the sincerity in his tone. “Yes, yes. Think of what that kitty has been through already, eh? When you found him he was doing worse than that. He is, uh, tough meat. A fighter.”

Seeing Alexi so placid and unshaken in the face of tonight’s events is strangely calming and you nod, soothed by his words, before another thought strikes you. “Oh… but the vet bills.”

Alexi lets out a low but not unkind laugh. “Ah, не будь глупым, you worry so much. We will figure those out. Melina is a sly fox, has money tucked away in hidey-holes, eh?”

“But— I mean —” You twitch uncomfortably, and Alexi seems to finally cotton onto what it is that you’re really worried about. He sets down his tools with his usual gentleness, which never fails to look foreign on such a giant of a man, and turns to look at you.

“You are member of this family,” he tells you. “No matter what Yelena say. She is angry, sure, but it will blow over, eh? You love the silly little fur man, and we do too. So if these bills will help him of course we will pay it. There is no need for worry.”

“But I ruined everything,” you say quietly.

He laughs again. “Nonsense. You have not ruined any of the things, голубка.”

“But… your date night. And— Natasha,” you hiccup.

“We have date nights all the time, подсолнух, there will be others. And Natasha… well, me and your mama are knowing this for long time. Yelena will be coming round also, eventually. We will figure this all out, we are a family. She is your sister. All of the things will be okay. None of them are ruined.”

And you can’t help but cry at that, at his earnest sincerity, his certainty that things will work out — and because you love him, and he is your family. You tell him so through choked sobs, and he just looks at you softly before wrapping you into a petrol-scented bear hug, prom outfit be damned.

Maybe he’s right. Maybe everything will be okay.

Yelena sinks into another episode over the following days. She does nothing much but sit, a vacant look in her eyes, devoid of any feeling, and stare for hours at a time as though seeing something that the rest of you cannot. She has no words left to give, and drifts around on autopilot, only performing basic functional tasks when prompted to — as if they’re an afterthought. Seeing her like this wracks you with guilt in a way none of her episodes have before, because for the first time you know with a crushing certainty that this is because of you. You offer countless times to return to your parents’ house across the road, the residents of which you haven’t conversed with in months, but Alexi and Melina dismiss this as if it’s the silliest idea in the world.

“You are family,” Melina tells you firmly. “Fights happen, да? You stay.”

Even if you’re still welcome in the house you’re certainly not welcome in your usual room. Natasha offers to put you up in hers but drops this very quickly after the look that you give her, so instead a section of the loft is cleared for you. You and Alexi spend a merry Sunday together in his workshop assembling a bedframe for your new space, only to discover once you’ve made it upstairs that it’s actually too large to fit through the attic hatch, so you have to take it to bits to get it up there and then rebuild it all over again. (It doesn’t really matter though, because Alexi is so bemused by the whole thing and his own oversights that it’s impossible to be frustrated at the setback. He just grins so goofily.) When Yelena is in the shower you sneak back into her room to gather as many of your belongings as you can and begin to turn the little space into yours. Melina brings home some fairy lights from the store, you order some posters online and within a week or so you’ve organised yourself a very cozy nest amongst the mess of the loft.

Even now you’ve moved in, over half of the room is still piled high with boxes of various things and piles of junk and the distinct, cloth-draped, dust-gathering shapes of Alexi’s abandoned projects (which he insists on keeping on the basis that he might need them someday, much to Melina’s theatrical chagrin). The various artefacts throughout the room create a kind of ever-changing maze, and you remember playing up here with Yelena when the two of you were kids and it was too cold to play outside — for you, anyway, being someone who’s grown up in a relatively warm American state. To this day Yelena often scorns you for your inability to tolerate any kind of cold, and reminds you of the climates the rest of the family has lived in.

Thinking of her makes your heart involuntarily twinge, and you wince, standing from your perch on the end of your new bed in the vain hopes of shaking it off. As you do so something in the opposite corner of the room catches your eye; the neat pile of scrapbooks Melina worked on for years when you were kids. “I’m going full American mama,” she would quip, spending hours of an evening painstakingly prettying the pages laden with pictures that Alexi had taken throughout the day. You find yourself warmed by these memories, and drift over to the pile of books, settling before it. The newest scrapbooks are naturally at the top, so you shuffle through the pile until you reach the very first scrapbook Mama Melina ever made, which begins the day Yelena came home. You settle down comfortably on the floor, cross-legged like you’re a kid again, and begin to flip through its pages; the very first are adorned with pictures of Melina and Alexi in their youth, and then on their wedding day. After that is the day Yelena came home, absolutely unfazed by this strange new country and its drawling people. Every single photo has the date it was taken written beneath it in perfect cursive, and through the timeline shown you can see that it was barely two weeks into Yelena’s residency here before you and her properly met, and became firm friends. Things progress like that for two years, from when you were five until when you were seven; regular entries are made in the scrapbooks documenting road trips and school plays and lost teeth, all of which you smile upon fondly.

Halfway through the third scrapbook, Natasha comes home. You recognise one of the many pictures documenting this milestone as one that hangs large and framed with pride downstairs above the fire; a stunned, still blue-haired Natalia swathed in thermals, huddled in the corner of Alexi’s rickety old fighter jet on the journey back from the motherland, beaming widely up at whoever’s taking the photo. Despite the fact that you see it every day, seeing it alongside so many others in which she’s so bewildered but so, so happy makes your heart feel so strongly that you have to flip ahead.

You pore over the pages of the main scrapbooks with interest for a while longer, until the main timeline ends and divulges into you, Yelena and Natasha each having your own dedicated scrapbooks. You have no interest in studying your own baby photos, and given all that’s going on reliving Yelena’s would be unbearable right now, so instead you find yourself picking up Natasha’s, and pushing the others aside.

Seeing her grow up before your eyes like this is surreal. In reality you were by her side every day, and most of these changes happen so gradually that you barely even noticed them, but here are immortalised stills from throughout the years which show how she’s grown. When she first came home she hadn’t had her growth spurt yet, and still had her gentle Russian lilt which the rest of her family retains to this day. As she starts attending public school and socialising with her peers you can see that something changes very hastily within her; a light kind of fades from her eyes. The blue is bleached from her hair, and as the red fades back in its place she seems to fade a little too — into the quiet, observant Natasha that you know today. She doesn’t seem unhappy, as such, but… uncertain, and it dredges up a kind of sadness in your chest that forces you to push the book away, lest the tears in your eyes follow through with their threat to overspill.

You’ve always seen Natasha as someone so secure and sure of herself — so much so that she doesn’t feel the need to speak over anyone else in the room in order to get her opinions across. When she does speak it’s usually a quick, cutting remark that earns laughs and leaves everyone eager to hear more out of her. When she walks into a room heads turn to look at her, no matter where she goes. She knows that. She’s someone worth paying attention to. It’s never occurred to you, not once in your life, that her behaviours aren’t the result of something different. But looking at these pictures has stirred up something in you which you can’t quite describe. A deep sadness at the fact that you’ve probably never known her at all, aside from the parts of the real her that have slipped through the cracks; her Russian accent and sleepy kisses first thing in the morning, her goodnight texts, the way she doesn’t need to ask your order at drive-thrus or coffee shops, the notes she’d leave under your pillow. That’s Natasha. Not whoever this is who’s pushed you away. Not this girl who has bleached the childhood from her hair and taught herself how to be from another place.

You pile the scrapbooks back in the neat and tidy order in which you found them and crawl back to your bed, flopping into it, utterly emotionally exhausted by this trip down memory lane. You think it’s dark outside… you’re certainly tired enough to rest now, anyway, and you do; drifting in and out of an uneasy slumber, visited by vague and twisted recollections from your childhood which disappear upon your waking again, before you can grasp them properly, like the sand of your youth slipping through your fingers.

Mama Melina is a woman of science. She’s always considered herself a grounded person. She doesn’t concern herself with what she doesn’t understand, or care for (namely whatever she cannot see for certain with her own two eyes) to the extent that this is the path her career has taken, and is now what feeds her children. She is, objectively, an intellectual woman. Her analytical methods of thinking have led to scientific breakthroughs in her area of expertise, and she is renowned as an expert at her job. She did not reach this point through belief in the spiritual, or abstract. Hell, being raised in an orphanage herself, she didn’t even really believe in true romantic love until Alexi bore his whole earnest heart to her.

One day, when you were young, you came home from school and, with frightening nonchalance, came home and asked if one of your classmates had been correct in saying that people who kissed others of the same gender were hell-headed sinners. Melina abruptly halted her mundane household task and sat you down, taking one of your hands in hers.

“Sin is a fairytale,” she told you, as delicately as she could. “Nobody knows for certain whether sin or God or heaven or hell are real. To believe that is a choice, a leap of faith which certain people make. But all we know for certain is what’s here now, да? Like I am real, you are real,” she cupped your little face between her warm hands and squeezed gently, making you wrinkle your nose and wriggle happily, “Baba and Yelena are real. But sin is thing you choose to believe in. It is made up stories to make us feel better about death but it does not matter, малыш. What matters is what we do now, when we are alive, not what we do to secure a place in an afterlife that might not exist, eh? We are kind to each other now while we live because we know it to be true that we’re alive. To tell someone else who to kiss was wrong and unkind of that boy at school. Worry about the afterlife once you get there, да? If you want to kiss girls, kiss girls. No one who is kind or worth your time will care.”

She kissed the top of your head before standing back up and returning to her cleaning. No more words were exchanged on the prospect, but from that day onward it has appeared to be common knowledge in the household that you like girls, and that Melina is not a fan of religion justifying bigotry.

In all honesty, she is not a fan of anything that’s not an irrefutable truth. Science is her preferred method of explanation for any problem that may occur. But as her relationship with Alexi has blossomed, and then in turn the ones she shares with her daughters too, she’s learned that facts and feelings do not have to be mutually exclusive. Some of the complexities of the human mind are far beyond her understanding, or indeed any of us — and yet this is a truth which ought to be embraced, not feared. The greatest joys in Melina’s life are its mysteries.

And so Mama Melina has never questioned the dynamic you and Natasha share; at least to her, it’s seemed crystal clear since day one that the two of you harbour affections for one another — admittedly for reasons beyond her comprehension, but it’s nonetheless undeniable to anyone who knows you like she does. She’s watched you grow all of your lives, delicately inching closer to one another like two flowers craning their necks to reach the sun. Melina long ago accepted she’ll never in this lifetime know what higher power reigns as a puppeteer over her, or understand the complexities of love, but she knows better than to pretend as if some things in this world aren’t inexplicably and cosmically connected. You and Natasha only prove this point. If she looks hard enough, Melina can see the red thread that runs from your body to her daughter’s.

Alexi, by far the romantic, wholeheartedly agrees with her, which only furthers Melina’s convictions (he would know better than her, she reasons) — although admittedly the events of the last few months have blindsided the both of them. Melina appears to be more concerned by it than her husband, though; so much so that one night she actually sits him down to ask if he even knows what’s going on, and why there’s this big gaping gulf between her daughters, tearing her family apart.

Alexi just guffaws, so full of mirth that Melina is startled. “Ah Боже мой, my love. Do not be silly, I would have to be blind to miss those daggers over dinner, no? No, do not worry, I’m understand. But love is not easy, ah? Its course has never run so smooth. Remember when I first asked out you? You were so… skittish, like little kitten, for weeks,” he recalls with shining eyes. “And look where we ended up now, ah? These are silly babies. They’ll make mistakes. They need the time that you did.”

His words soothe her, in the way that they always do. She relaxes into his comforting embrace with the knowledge that even if she’s the intellectual (and financial) breadwinner in this relationship, Alexi always knows what to say in the face of the heart’s unpredictability. Maybe he is right. Maybe everyone just needs some time.

So, despite her doubts, time is what Melina gives.

Two weeks after that conversation, Liho comes home. His fur is patchy where it’s been shorn off and started to grow back again, and one of his legs is still bound tightly, but he’s back and he’s yours. He leaps happily into your arms when he sees you (despite the yelp of alarm Melina makes) and it’s like he never left. Yelena comes the closest to you that she’s been in weeks to pet his head while he’s curled up against your chest, and she even allows a smile to escape. You can’t help but smile back, like the beginning of spring after a long harsh winter, hope blossoming in your chest once again.

In the time that it’s taken him to come home, other things have happened too. Natasha’s nose, displaced by the punch Yelena successfully laid on her, heals quickly. Your relationship does not. Something unspoken festers between the two of you, hardening and shrinking and blackening into a sickening nothingness. You can’t look at her now without the taste of something bitter filling your mouth — and yet that boiling hot liquid rage still fills your chest when you think of her with someone else. How is it possible to love someone so much but hate them at the same time? You wish, more than anything, that none of this happened. You wish she would just let you love her without having to ruin it for the both of you.

It’s such an indescribably lonely feeling that the two of you are like this now, when only a short time ago the two of you bore open hearts to one another — well, you gave yours to Natasha, anyway. The more you think about it the less of her you have ever known. She’s a stranger to you. Quite a few times since prom night she’s tried to speak to you — offering another half-assed apology, no doubt — but you’ve only ever shut her down. What is there left to say? Nothing that you want to hear, for sure.

(And maybe the things that still hang heavy in the air between you are better left unsaid.)

A few days after Liho comes home you’re laid on your bed in the attic, with your baby boy himself curled comfortably on your chest, purring away merrily as you scratch at his head. There’s some soft music on in the background but neither of you are really doing much. You’re just trying to enjoy his company, (and he’s evidently enjoying yours,) now that you know not to take it for granted.

The scare you’ve had with him has shifted your perspective on a lot, actually — it’s been a rude but much-needed wake up call. Yelena, just like Liho, is your family, and you want to make up with her. Who knows how long either of you have left, or what might happen?

Yes, you absolutely want to be her sister again. You’re just not sure where to even start.

The knock that comes at your door is unexpected, though, and only more unexpected when you see who your mystery visitor actually is. Yelena stands in your doorway, eyes fixed on Liho on your chest. He mews happily when he sees her.

“Кот,” she says hoarsely, holding out her arms and making grabby hands. You blink, stunned for a moment at the fact that she is talking at all, let alone talking to you. This would usually be a good sign, one that she’s coming back into herself, but these naturally are unprecedented circumstances, and you can’t really be certain what anything means anymore.

Yelena steps forward, jerking you out of your trance; you shoot to your feet and kiss Liho on the forehead before holding him out to her with your hands beneath his armpits so that his legs dangle underneath him, rendering him comically long and thin. Lena scoops him up and curls him against her chest; he purrs contentedly and her eyes crinkle in quiet gratitude before she leaves, humming her song to herself.

You almost call out to her, but your body freezes. The door closes behind her you scold yourself for not reaching out, for trying to close this rift between you, but maybe you’ve not given her long enough yet.

What Yelena needs is time, you know. Her whole world has been turned upside down and she has to rebuild it piece by piece. But how much time is enough?

Well, as it turns out, you won’t have to wait much longer.

It’s the last week of school, just over five weeks now since your catastrophic prom night, and you’ve just walked out of your last final. Sam Wilson is waiting for you outside the doors with your favourite flavour of popsicle in his hand, and is already busily consuming his own. When he spots you he waves a broad hand merrily, and you make your way over to him.

“I’m sure you aced it, squirt,” he says before you can even open your mouth, and offers you the popsicle. Unfortunately you’re all too familiar to Ohio’s stifling summer air, making every thought or movement damp and groggy. You accept it gratefully.

Your core friendship group, which you’ve been in for years now, has been pretty turbulent since things went down between you and Yelena. Pairing that with finals and early graduations, you can feel a permanent shift occurring, and it’s frightening. Everyone’s still making effort to maintain contact with you, but this change on top of everything else has you feeling like you’re drowning when you think too long about it. It seems like you never know what are the golden days until they’re gone. (You got twelve golden years with Yelena, but is that where it ends? Will she ever tolerate your presence in her life again?)

Someone who you couldn’t be more grateful for throughout all of this is Sam. One day not long after everything happened you came to him crying, and confessed everything. He patted your back with an aura of awkward concern until your sobs subsided, at which point all he had to offer was, “Huh. Well, I guess that explains why prom night went to shit.”

You can’t help but admire the way that he takes everything in his stride. Nothing fazes him. It’s welcome after spending so long around Natasha, who’s constantly on edge, worried someone else might see her with you. Sam is so unbothered, just being in his presence is calming. He’s become a good and valued friend to you.

“That was your last final,” he reminds you, bringing you back to the present moment. “You’re free now for the whole summer.”

“Oh fuck yeah, man,” you say as the realisation dawns on you.

“How’d you want to celebrate?”

You look up at him and a toothy grin takes root on his face as he realises what you’re about to say.

“Arcade,” you say and he nods fervently in agreement. In recent times you’ve become its most loyal patrons; you retreat there often after classes, whether it’s to recuperate from a bad day or celebrate a good one. Today, thankfully, appears to be the latter.

“Arcade,” he repeats happily, and the two of you amble off out of the school gates and down the hill toward the centre of town, where the Boulevard housing the arcade is located. You chat happily for a little while, about your plans for the summer and what you might do together.

“And, uh… any updates on your… anything?” he asks delicately. It’s a vague question but of course you know what he means.

“Not really.” You deflate a little. “I’m not sure Lena wants me around anymore, to be honest.”

“I’m sure she does,” Sam consoles with a startling certainty. “Seriously. What about Natasha?”

You just shake your head. “I don’t want to… I can’t. Not until Lena…”

“Gives you the okay,” he nods understandingly.

“Yeah, I guess. But until she’s sorry, too. She was really mean,” you say quietly.

“Yeah, I get that. It’ll be okay, man.”

You’re not so sure about that, but before you can express this you cross the road and the two of you have reached the arcade, where your troubles are promptly forgotten.

Sam’s words are very quickly proven correct, though — within only a few hours. You arrive home from your arcade trip with some silly winnings tucked under your arm and a smile on your face. It is Friday night, date night for Melina and Alexi, so a car is missing from the driveway and the kitchen is empty as you enter.

Perfect, you think to yourself, and begin to fix yourself some food. These days you’re very careful not to venture into the communal areas of the house unless you’re sure you won’t be treading on anyone else’s toes. You kind of feel like a burden as it is — you’re not a proper part of this family anyway, not in the way that everyone else is — and you don’t want to make anyone uncomfortable in their own home. So you’ve moved bedrooms and now you meticulously strategise what times you’ll make an expedition down to the kitchen. (Sometimes, when you’ve not had a chance to eat yet, you’ll open your bedroom door to a plate of chocolate chip pancakes in front of you. Everyone in the house denies knowledge when asked but you have your suspicions of who’s behind it.)

Sometimes you think about moving back to the place where you were born, but you’re not sure if you could stomach that. That feels like a forever choice. There’s no going back from that.

Liho pads up to you, excited that you’re home and even more excited that you’re making food. Unable to help yourself, you indulge him with some chin scratches and scraps. Life’s too short, you say. Why shouldn’t you make a fuss of your boy?

He winds himself around your legs contentedly while you cook. It is just you and him and school has finished and you have the whole summer to do what you want, and you are cooking, and for the first time in a while you are able to shut off and experience a moment of complete peace.

Naturally, with the trajectory of your life at the minute, this peace does not last long.

“Is Sam Wilson your new best friend?” says a cool voice behind you. You actually yelp in alarm, and very ungracefully fumble with the piping hot utensils you’re using, burning your hand in the process. Liho hisses, and you do too, making a beeline for the sink.

“Don’t sneak up on me like that,” you mutter half-heartedly. Yelena, now moving to stand fully in the light, just makes a noise in the back of her throat as she opens the cupboard above your head and reaches for the first-aid kit. Her face is carefully unbothered.

“I only asked a question,” she says, moving your food off of the heat. Liho claws at your ankles worriedly. You struggle to process Yelena’s words, much less the fact that she is talking to you. Did you blink and miss a chapter?

“Uh,” you rub at the back of your neck with your hand not under running water, “n-no. No, he’s not my new best friend. I don’t,” your voice drops, and you look away, “I don’t think I have one anymore.”

“You do,” she informs you matter-of-factly, hopping up onto the counter beside you and swinging her legs while you continue to bathe your hand. “If you still want one. But she is very mad at you.”

Your voice catches in your throat.

“She does love you,” Lena continues, “but she is wondering why you did things in the way you did.”

There’s a moment of quiet. You gather your thoughts. You weren’t expecting to have this talk tonight.

“I was scared,” you tell her.

“Of what?”

“Of,” you gesture between the two of you, “this. Of making things bad. I always figured it would be like a,” you tilt your head back to keep from crying, because now would be a stupid time to cry, “a stupid schoolgirl crush, you know? She never even spoke to me, I was just her little sister’s dumb best friend, but then things happened and it was so fast and I was so scared. And I wanted to tell you but she… didn’t. She only wanted me when no one else could see. I guess I hoped that she would — come around, eventually, and then I wouldn’t be lying anymore.” You’re heaving with the effort to not cry. “I was wrong.”

“All this time the mystery girl was treating you like shit, you could have told me who it was,” Yelena implores. “I love my sister but she makes me sad also. She can be a dick, absolutely. She’s the worst. Why wouldn’t you tell me?”

“She’s your family,” you choke. “I couldn’t cause a— a rift or a problem like that. And what if you believed her over me? And it kept getting worse, and —”

“Сестра,” she leans over, cupping your damp face between her hands and forcing you to look at her, “I would always believe you. Always. Never before have you given reason to not.”

You nod tearfully, and she lets go. The only noise is the running water for a few moments.

“That is probably long enough under tap,” Lena murmurs, turning it off and taking your injured hand in her lap. Opening the first aid kit, she begins to dress the burn. “I am sorry for making you jump.”

“I am sorry for everything else,” you reply honestly. “I was stupid.”

“Yes,” she agrees bluntly. Then, “Natalia was stupider.” When you look up in open surprise, she rolls her eyes. “Close your mouth, you will catch flies. Of course she was stupid, she has fumbled so hard. You,” she pinches your cheek affectionately, “are a catch. I am not even into all of this, but if I was a dater we would be together and I would treat you like four million times better than she does.”

“You already do,” you say quietly, looking down at your hand in her lap as she continues to bandage it.

“Oh absolutely, I am the best.”

Another, much longer, pause. She finishes wrapping your hand, and pats it three times to notify you that she’s done, the exact same way that Mama Melina does. The action makes your heart swell and eyes fill with unexpected tears.

“Do you know why I was so upset by all of it?” she asks unexpectedly. You blink in surprise. This feels like a trick question.

“Because… I lied?”

“Because you picked Natasha over me,” she tells you.

“No I didn’t— what?”

“Yes, you did,” she says, and she’s a little choked all of a sudden. “All of my life Natasha has been the one who everyone looks at first. She is the special one. You are the only one I had first, who was mine. My близнец. And then I find out that for months you have been lying and picking her over me instead. When she is mean, she is so mean sometimes, yes I love her but she is not much like when we were kids anymore, she is so mean. But everyone likes her more than me. Even you.” She turns away.

“No, no I don’t,” you rush to her side, unable to help it now, scooping her close to you. “No I don’t. I was wrong, and I’m sorry. It was stupid to think she’d ever love me, I shouldn’t have— and I shouldn’t have left you out of it. I think I was trying to protect you? I don’t know. You’re always the one to protect me and punch everyone else, I think I was trying to stop you from getting hurt. And her? But it was dumb. Very dumb.”

“Very, very dumb,” Yelena agrees.

“The dumbest.”

“You have broken world record, кролик.”

You laugh a little tearfully, and while Yelena’s arms are wrapped around you she feels it throughout her body. She revels in the feeling of you holding her and loving her again, after the longest time.

“So we are back from the store?” she asks hopefully after a moment. It takes you a moment to process what she means.

“Oh,” you laugh, “we were never there. You will always be my favourite person, Yelena Belova-Shostakov.”

“Okay.” She exhales in relief. “Good. Just, because — well, you know, we have not spoke in so long and you didn’t think you had a best friend, and—”

“No— what? No,” you frown, “that was me giving you space to process and heal. I wasn’t sure you’d want me back,” you laugh. “I wasn’t ignoring you. I promise.”

“I will always want you back,” she says in a small, content voice. “I will always want you home. With me. Not at store.”

“Not at the store,” you repeat.

And just like that, you have your best friend again.

One familial bond repaired doesn’t mean all of them, though — and Yelena’s relationship with her sister has been patchy recently, to put it mildly. In your eyes it’s a plus that they haven’t outright fistfought in the way that they absolutely would if they were any younger, but Mama Melina doesn’t seem to see things that way.

A few days after you and Yelena make up, the two of you along with your parents are sat around the dinner table. At the very least Melina is able to fuss over her twins again, and Alexi is able to once again boom “here comes trouble” whenever the two of you enter a room together. They both take great pleasure in it, much to Yelena’s entertainment and your endearment. You love your parents.

The conversation halts when the front door slams, though. Natasha appears in the kitchen doorway for a second before processing the scene in front of her and slowly backing away, back out of sight.

“What is this about?” Alexi calls after her through a mouthful of food. “Come eat, love.”

There is no response, only footsteps on the stairs.

“Our daughters hate each other,” Melina sighs heavily. When you and Yelena look up at her, she clarifies, “no, not you two. You and Natasha.” She pinches Lena’s cheek.

“We do not hate each other,” Yelena says placidly, much to everyone’s surprise. “I am just angry at her. We will be fine.”

Natasha, who is still within earshot at the top of the stairs, feels her heart skip a beat at this and thinks to herself that just maybe Yelena is ready to be receptive to her attempts at reconnection. Her only issue is she has no idea how to facilitate it. She’s done all the things she can think of, aside from straight up cornering her younger sister — she leaves offerings of food at her door and texts her when the Kardashians are on the TV — but all of it has been treated with nonchalance that’s left her bewildered as to what her next step should be.

Yelena’s got her covered, though.

It’s her turn to strike, she knows, and again she chooses to do it when her sister will least expect it. Nat traipses home late one night, exhausted from cheer practice that overran. (Their next game is the last of the season, and her last cheer match ever considering she’s graduating this summer, so this semester’s team captain Sharon is determined they go out with a bang — even if that bang is a cheerleader toppling from the pyramid out of sheer exhaustion.) She mumbles her greetings and goodnights to Melina and Alexi, who are huddled around a decanter of whiskey in the study with Liho, and stumbles upstairs. All the lights are off up here, and she figures you and Yelena are probably settling down for the night. With a long, wistful look up the spiral staircase towards your firmly closed door, she trudges into her own (pitch-black) room. When she flicks on the light, though, she shrieks in horror. Sat expectantly at the foot of her bed is a long-limbed and blonde-headed figure, with hands folded neatly in its lap.

“Good evening, сестра,” greets the figure, sometimes known as Yelena Belova, with vaguely ominous nonchalance.

Natasha leans back against the door and closes her eyes in a desperate attempt to revert her heart rate to normal. Her first instinct as an older sister is to yell at her to get the fuck out, but in light of recent events this probably wouldn’t be the wisest of choices. Instead, she clamps her mouth tightly shut as she attempts to regain herself.

“I don’t,” she pants after a moment, “I haven’t— what? Hi. What?”

“You should really get a better lock,” Yelena says amusedly. “Very easy to pick.”

“You don’t have to break in,” Natasha grumbles, letting her bag slide to the floor and flopping backwards onto the bed. “Just knock.”

“No fun.” Yelena pokes Nat’s thigh with her toe just like she would when they were kids and for a moment they’re both young again. But she blinks, and the moment is gone, and now they’re two almost-adults with an entire universe between them.

Natasha just groans and flops back to stare up at her ceiling. A few years back you and Yelena helped her paint it blue and now it looks like the sky. It makes her smile when she’s sad sometimes. Yelena joins her, and the two cloudgaze for a moment.

“Why are you in my room?” Natasha asks quietly.

“To annoy you,” Lena quips.

“Success.”

“And to talk,” she continues.

“Also success. We are talking.”

The blonde lunges for her, and Natasha rolls away playfully. “No, I’m serious. Real talking.”

“Alright, I’m all ears.” Nat puts her hands behind her ears and pushes them forward to emphasise her point — again, like they would when they were kids.

“I want to know what you were intending when you started dating Y/N,” Yelena says, and Nat’s stomach drops. She knew this was coming, she knew this was where the conversation would lead, but she was still hoping to stall it for as long as possible just for the joy that her sister is talking to her again. The excitement is short-lived, though.

“We were never dating,” she reminds her quietly.

“Why not?”

The bluntness of the question makes Natasha stop short.

“Because it just, didn’t work out like that, I guess,” she tries. Yelena remains eerily stony.

“It’s not nice to lie to your baby sister, Natalia.”

Natasha deflates. “Because w— because I’m a fucking idiot. I don’t know what you want me to say. I know I messed up.”

“Step one is awareness,” Yelena nods sagely, while Nat grits her teeth. “So what are you going to do about it?”

She shrugs. “Graduate, and leave town, I guess. You and Y/N are twins again now, and I caused all these problems, so once I leave things should be fixed.”

“Untrue and false,” the blonde interrupts sharply. “That is lie. Y/N/N is crushed. This will not magically be fix if you take off for college.”

“But it will help,” Natasha insists.

“No it won’t,” Yelena pinches the bridge of her nose in frustration, “oh my god, how are you so stupid. She is in love with you, and she is so patient with you, she is not even angry. Which I would be, by the way, but she’s not. She’s only sure you don’t want her.”

“Huh? But I do.”

“No, like wanting her,” Yelena says gently. “As a whole. Like… unity, ah? Влюбленный. She feels so not good enough for you, and every day you are prove her right. You take only what you want from her and leave the rest. That is not what love is. She feels not loved by you, and that you only like her for the things she can offer you.”

“Oh. But I didn’t mean to,” Natasha says tearfully. Suddenly she is very small, and she draws her knees up to her chest. “I was only… Lena, маленький, I didn’t know what to do.”

“The answer seems pretty simple,” the blonde observes astutely, “all you had to do was either tell her you love her and want to be with her, or tell her it is over. You can’t keep having things in your way forever. She has feelings too, and the relationship cannot be on just your terms. She is not a doll, or toy.”

“I do,” she says hoarsely. “I do, t- the first one. It’s- I do. But I’m so…” She raises a pale trembling palm to run a hand through her hair, inhaling shakily, and with a blink of surprise Yelena realised how scared her older sister truly is.

“What is so terrifying?” she asks tenderly.

“Y/N is a girl.”

Yelena almost laughs at the confession but is able to refrain, and is proud of her capability to do so upon seeing just how agitated her company is over the subject. “Is this all that holds you back? Nobody would care. Ma and Daddy wouldn’t. This is not end of the world.”

“No, you don’t get it,” says Natasha fiercely. “Ever since I came to America... you were here first, you and Y/N, and you just get to be you. You have who you are. But I don’t know who I am, so I have to — do all the American girl things. I have to fit in. I don’t have a Y/N. And American girls don’t kiss girls.”

Yelena stops to consider this. It’s true that Natasha has always put far, far more effort into fitting in and Westernising herself more than she or their parents ever did. Yelena is perfectly content with her slightly broken English and her raspy accent and her life of in-betweenness. She’s okay with being from two places. To her, when she looks in the mirror, that is Yelena Belova. They’re just parts of who she is. She’s never even stopped to consider those as potential insecurities — not when she had other things and feelings (or lack thereof) to worry about. How could something so unchangeable be a source of doubt? And yet here she now sits, struggling to wrap her head around this invisible binary which has suffocated her sister for so many years.

“But you are not… what?” she says confusedly. “You did have a Y/N. All of this… you’re being someone else. I knew something felt strange. I do not understand why? I like who you are before. It wasn’t bad. I like Natalia.”

This seems to break Nat, who buries her face in her hands. Yelena lets out a motherly cluck of sympathy and scoots closer to loop a gangly arm around her sister.

“I just want to be normal,” breathes Natasha.

“But it is not worth all this,” Yelena says, squeezing her sister tightly to her chest. “What does normal even mean? Being cool is not the most important, Natalia. Everybody liking you doesn’t… fix you not liking yourself.” She cringes at her own words, reminding herself a little too much of Darcy’s Pinterest feed, but the words seem to ring true with Nat, at least.

“I am just so scared,” Nat says in a small voice. “And I think I’ve made this so bad it can’t be fixed.”

Yelena pulls away to look her sternly in the eyes. “Things can always be fixed. Maybe not in ideal way you want them to be, but we can always make amends. But you have to be sorry.”

“I am,” Natasha cries, “I am sorry.”

Yelena holds her. “I know.”

She’s not so sure you know it, though.

Maybe somewhere deep down, you do. You see it in the saddened smiles Nat offers you whenever she steps out of your way or leaves a room so you can use it. You see it in the way she brings your favourite snacks home and leaves them in the pantry without word or question, like she doesn’t even expect you to notice. You see it even in the absence of her; in the way that she gives you space, quietly leaving rooms when you enter them so you can use them despite the fact that you can feel in the air how much she wants to stop and talk to you. Sure, you can tell that she’s sorry. But you’re not sure that she knows what she’s sorry for.

You’re not sure she knows how badly she’s really hurt you, with her every move stabbing into you repeatedly over a course of months. Now that the knife is turned on her and she’s the one in exile, a selfish part of you wants to leave her there, just so she knows what it’s like. You guess that’s kind of what you’re doing now. You know this can’t go on forever though. In a couple of months Natasha leaves for out-of-state college, which she announced over dinner a few nights ago. You had to excuse yourself from the table to process that information. Your time is limited, you know, and it’s clear what Natasha wants (to kiss and make up) — but what do you want? To leave this wound untreated, festering for the next eternity? Or to allow yourself peace and let this go?

“Why do I have to be the bigger person?” you half-heartedly complain to Yelena one night as the two of you wash the dishes. “It’s not fair.”

“Because you are the bigger person,” Yelena laughs. “Natalia has given you the control. The next move is on you. That’s just the way it is, if it’s fair or no.” She whips you playfully with her tea towel, and the conversation moves on without further incident.

The issue plays on your mind long after the words are spoken, though. Whether you like it or not, Yelena is right. The next move’s on you. But how are you meant to make that call? What is the right move to make?

Well, one of Natasha’s friends appears very opinionated on the subject.

On a particularly warm afternoon, you and Yelena stroll into town, and stop off at May Parker’s ice cream parlour — the best in town.

“Ah,” Yelena grimaces, as you draw close to its glass windows, “it is so busy in there. I go in, you wait out here?”

You smile at her gratefully, and she disappears inside.

“Y/L/N!” a voice calls out behind you, and you turn around to see Bucky Barnes making a beeline for you. He’s about twice your size in every way imaginable, and you gulp.

“Hi?” you say uncertainly. You don’t think you’ve ever spoken to him in your life.

“What’s up with you and Romanov?” Well, he’s straight to the point.

You flounder, mouth opening and shutting, and he’s gracious enough to continue, “look, I know you and her are a thing. Were. I don’t know, she’s being so weird about it. It’s okay, it’s okay, I was her beard. And she was mine,” he adds, gesturing over at Steve Rogers, who’s stood on the other side of the road waiting patiently for his boyfriend. He smiles and waves amiably on cue.

You blink. “And no one thought to inform me?”

He shrugs. “Not my place. I think it is my place, though, to ask what’s got her so torn up. You and her fallen out? I’ve never seen her like this. I’on know what to do.”

He may not mean it menacingly, but he’s towering over you and you’re finding it hard to breathe. “She was an asshole, dude,” you say, perhaps a little more defensively than you envisioned. “She wasn’t nice to me and we weren’t even together, because she didn’t see me like that. So yeah, I guess we fell out.”

He frowns, deeply, and takes a moment to process this. “Oh. That… but she does feel that way about you.”

“It’d be nice if she’d show it,” you say bitterly.

His face softens. “Maybe… Look, even if the two of you don’t work it out proper, wouldn’t it be easier to at least clear the air? She likes you so much. She just wants you in her life, I think.”

You look at him uncertainly for a moment, but he holds your gaze earnestly. You know him and Natasha are relatively close, and you don’t see why he’d lie about something like this. It’s definitely tempting to believe.

“Okay,” you say, “I’ll bear that in mind.”

He looks like he’s about to say something else, but you feel a hand on your shoulder and instantly recognise Yelena’s presence just behind you. “What is going on?”

“Just talking,” says Bucky smoothly, but it seems apparent that the moment is over. “See you around, kid.” He crosses the road back to Steve.

“Kid,” you mutter, “he’s one grade older than me.”

“What did he want?” Yelena asks you, and you relay your strange interaction to her. “Oh. Well, he is probably right, but I’m not sure how much it means coming from Natasha’s ex.”

“Were they really together?” you ask, your stomach turning at the thought. Wouldn’t that co-occur with your and her relationship? “He said he was her beard.”

She shrugs. “Not my expertise. Come on, the ice cream will melt.”

You don’t see Bucky Barnes again for the weeks that follow, although you can’t help but wonder what he meant, and what he was trying to achieve. (And a little part inside of you thinks that maybe he could be right.)

“Ma?” says Natasha suddenly. “How did you know you loved Alexi?”

It’s late at night, and the two of them are on the car ride home from Nat’s last cheer game of the season. (At her request it was not a family affair, despite Alexi’s insistence that it was his right to make a fuss of his talented daughter’s performance at her last high school cheer game.) The roads are empty and the towns are sleepy, but Natasha’s question has Melina wide awake.

“Eeh… it was not like a revelation. I did not wake up one day with new clarity. It came to me over time. It took me long time to accept, though. Your father is very patient man.”

“But was there anything specific?” Natasha persists.

Melina purses her lips in thought. “Well, when I met him I was not trusting person. One time when we were in the kind of in between bit right before being proper couple, ah —”

“The talking stage,” Nat supplies helpfully.

“— yes, да. We were in that, nothing proper but something, and he went to touch me and I had a… panic? I shut down. Achh, моя любовь, I was still figuring out who I was and what I did and didn’t like and… still growing up and healing from when I was kid. I was scared.”

Natasha nods solemnly. There are some childhood experiences which, despite unspoken, bind she and her mother at the soul.

“So I freak out, and I expected him to… belittle or leave, or something. But he stays and he is so patient, he apologise for making me jump and fetch me tea, and I thought like wow, he is so gentle. And he is not like the other men I known.”

Again, Natasha nods. Gentle is the perfect descriptor for her father. He’s the most wonderful man she’s ever met.

“So we spent more time together, he was patient with me and always caring. That was the time that I knew I would fall in love with him. But I’m not really know when it happened. Maybe by then it already had, ah? I have only ever had eyes for him. He make me feel… valued, and worthy.”

Natasha just hums in response, for she’s suddenly and embarrassingly on the verge of violent sobbing. She blames Ma and Baba and their beautiful relationship. Nothing else.

“Is this about Y/N?” Melina asks quietly. Natasha opens her mouth to reply and there it is, just as she feared, the waterworks are unleashed. Ma sighs heavily and pulls over.

“Идите сюда,” she says, holding her arms out, and Natasha crawls into them. She rocks her daughter back and forth, exactly how she used to so many years ago when the girl was half this size, while Nat’s face is buried in her mother’s neck. They stay like that for a while, until Natasha’s tears begin to die down.

“Do you want to go and get milkshakes?” Melina breaks the silence. Natasha hums her assent.

The 24-hour diner isn’t far from where they’ve pulled over, and it’s almost empty at this time of night. With no words exchanged Melina orders Natasha’s usual, or what was her usual when she was a kid — a strawberry milkshake and fries. A young Natasha decided strawberry was her favourite as soon as she found out that pink was a girl’s colour. Thinking about that now, especially with the hindsight of her conversation with Yelena, has her stomach turning a little. How long has she been letting her view of the world colour every single choice that she makes? Which parts of her are really her, and which are the ones she’s willed into existence?

It’s a scary line of questioning, and Natasha can feel herself beginning to spiral. No more, she tells herself. Yelena was probably right about needing to get to know herself — and learning her real favourite flavour of milkshake seems a manageable starting point.

“Can I have the caramel one?” she asks Melina gruffly, pointing at the menu. Her mama just nods and alters their order accordingly.

They sit at their usual booth and eat in a comfortable silence, punctuated only by the occasional “pass the ketchup”s. Once they’ve finished, though, and Melina can sense her daughter has calmed enough to leave, she turns and says to her, “Love isn’t easy thing to admit. But it’s… not something to be ashamed of. When it comes, just let it happen. It’s scary, but it does not make you weaker, ah? It will do you no good to push it away.” She hesitates, but then seems satisfied with what she’s said. She turns on her heel and heads back out to the car. Natasha, dumbfounded, follows her.

When they finally make it home, Alexi is snoring away upstairs and you’re on the sofa with Yelena sprawled on top of you, fast asleep. You’re wide awake, though, and look up as the two of them come in.

“Night, ma,” Natasha murmurs to her mother, kissing her cheek before tiptoeing off to bed. Melina hums at the action and pads into the living room toward her twins.

“Hi ma,” you chirp, voice a little husky. “Everything okay?”

Your mama nods, and holds out a brown paper bag. “We stopped at diner. Got your favourite. Some for Lena too.”

Your eyes crinkle up into half-moons as you smile at her in gratitude, and Melina smiles back fondly, her chest filling with warmth. “Thank you.”

She kisses Yelena’s forehead, who does not stir, and then yours, lingering for a moment.

“I love you,” she tells you sincerely, and a fierceness glimmers in her gaze that you’re not quite sure what to do with. “We all do.”

“I love you too,” you tell her honestly. You only hope you’re matching her intensity. She holds your gaze for a moment longer as if searching for something within it, then nods, seemingly satisfied, and retreats upstairs to join Alexi, leaving you alone with a meal to demolish, a slumbering blonde pinning you to the sofa and many, many thoughts.

A few days after that conversation, you wander into the backyard (Melina’s carefully pruned pride and joy) to pet Liho, who’s basking peacefully in the summer evening sun.

“Careful of the flowerbed,” you warn as he flexes his claws and kicks his legs happily. “Someone will suffer if Ma’s roses are ruined.”

He huffs in what could be agreement, and you toe absently at the sandy dirt you and Yelena used to play in.

A gentle creaking sounds from somewhere nearby. It’s a noise that makes you feel ten years younger, and curiously, you rise to your feet.

At the far end of the backyard, nestled among the pines and pratia, is the swing set Alexi built a little while after Yelena first moved in. It’s a little haggard-looking, as when Natasha came to America Alexi bodged a third swing so all of you could play together, but to his credit it’s still held up all these years. Sure, it doesn’t get so much use anymore, but sometimes when one of you is feeling a little down you’ll revisit the simpler times of your childhood.

This seems to be what you’ve stumbled upon Natasha doing now. She’s sat on the middle swing (which in times gone by was your swing, as the middle spot often was when you were a kid, so both siblings got to be next to you), rocking back and forth gently as she cradles something small in her hands, turning it over. She’s lost in thought. Wondering if you’ve intruded on something private, you begin to slowly pace away. When you catch sight of what it is in her hands, though, your stomach turns; a small and glistening pink rock, rubbed smooth by years of love.

“You kept that?” you ask quietly. Natasha’s head shoots up and she takes note of your appearance in the same way that a deer takes note of rapidly approaching headlights. Her mouth opens as she fumbles for words, but she just settles for nodding vigorously before lowering her gaze to her lap again.

You don’t really know what to think, or do. You hesitate for a moment, and find yourself thinking of Bucky’s advice — wouldn’t it be easier to clear the air? This tension is suffocating. With this on your mind, you seem to surprise Natasha as much as yourself when your feet march you over to the swing on your left, and your knees bend to seat you. Her entire body tenses as yours nears her. You can tell that, since you’ve gone to great lengths to escape her company recently, this is the last thing she expected. (In all honesty you weren’t really expecting this either. What now?)

“You know that I’m in love with you, right?” Natasha says suddenly, and you freeze. Your chest tightens, and it’s like she’s wrapped herself around it, claiming your breath as her own.

“That’s not funny,” you reply in a small voice. “Don’t— don’t do that.”

“Do what?”

“Play with me like that.”

Her stomach lurches. “I’m being serious.”

You’re quiet for a moment. “Were you and Bucky ever actually together?”

“What?”

“Bucky Barnes. Were you with him when you were with me, too?”

“N- no,” she says with vehement certainty. “I was — well, I guess it doesn’t really matter now, but when him and Steve were a secret I was his cover story. And I guess he was mine, so that I could… yeah.” She gestures towards you, pressing her lips together.

“But even after they came out I was still a secret.”

“I—” Natasha says, and buries her face in her hands for a moment, because this is not how she hoped this would go. “Yes. And that was wrong of me. I’m sorry. I think I was trying to protect you, and me, and you from me because I know how messy I can be, and I wanted you so bad but I didn’t want to drag you down with me. And I still did anyway.” She sighs heavily.

“That’s an interesting way of showing affection,” you quip.

“I know,” she says quietly. “And I’m sorry. I know I haven’t shown it well — at all — and I don’t really blame you for not believing me. Or, uh, hating me.”

“I don’t hate you,” you say softly.

Her shoulders sag. “Oh. W— well that’s good, then.”

“But I wish I did,” you add.

“No, yeah. That’s fair.”

“You’re really mean.”

Natasha just nods.

“And it’s even worse because I can’t even hate you because you can also be really nice.”

She nods again uncertainly. She’s not really sure how to respond to that.

“Why?”

“What?”

“Why are you so mean sometimes?”

This makes her stop up short. The way that both you and Yelena never fail to cut to the chase or ask the questions that nobody else would will always catch her off guard. “It’s kind of just who I am,” she begins, but at the way your face scrunches she adds, “or who I’ve decided to be, anyway. I don’t really know. I’m not sure… who I am.” Even uttering the statement aloud is a weight lifted from her shoulders. “It’s scary. I guess I… I thought that, like, I have to be the mean one, or someone else will first. To me. You know?”

“Why would anyone be mean to you?”

“Because I like girls,” she says truthfully, and there’s a tremor to her voice.. “And I’m not from here.”

You stare at her. “…? I like girls, and Yelena isn’t from here. No one is mean to us for it.”

“Because Yelena can and will beat the shit out of anyone that tries something,” Nat snorts. “But I just… I don’t know. It’s different for me.” You nod encouragingly and she adds with reluctance, “I don’t— belong here, not really. Or anywhere. I’m too American to be Russian and too Russian to be American. Ma and Baba and Yelena have it figured out, they’re just both and themselves and they don’t even have to think about it. But that’s not so easy for me.”

“Maybe,” you say carefully, “it’s to do with the people you choose to surround yourselves with. Is it possible that you’re… spending time with the wrong people? If you’re made to feel as though these things make you lesser.”

She shrugs. “Probably. But that doesn’t change the fact that I just… I really don’t have a lot going for me. So I kinda pretend that I do, and then it gets out of hand and I’ve convinced myself that I’m a lot more interesting than I am, to the point that I don’t know who me is. And I get all freaked out. And I’m so scared I kind of just shut off and try not to think, so I guess I’m just an asshole instead. Like it’s a reflex, you know? But it’s not really me. Nothing is me. My entire life is one perpetual identity crisis.” She drops her gaze to toe at the ground.

Your swing comes to a still as you clasp one of her hands between both of yours. They’re warm and perfectly manicured, and her eyes light up at the contact. “You don’t have to know who you are. You just have to exist, and you find out. I’m learning things about myself all the time, and so is Lena. This was my first relationship —” Nat’s stomach drops at the use of the word was “— and I’ve learnt a lot about myself and how I like to be treated. And Lena only came to terms with being aroace this year. Even Ma only just decided she’s demi,” you point out, and Nat can’t help but smile at this. (A little while ago, after Yelena first came out, you and Melina began joining her in attending weekly meetings at the local youth centre for young queer people and their parents. Your mama was determined to be a more educated advocate for her three queer daughters. Very recently, with all this new terminology at her disposal, she dropped into a dinnertime conversation in the presence of the whole family that she thinks she’s demi. “Not that it matters,” she added, “the only one for me is your father,” and she kissed his beaming crinkly cheek with a motherly tenderness. It was a beautiful moment to witness, despite Yelena’s playful booing.)

“I guess,” she says quietly. “Um, I’ve been talking to someone. Professional,” she adds at the look on your face. “Yelena said some stuff that made me realise I probably shouldn’t sort through this alone.”

“Yes, you shouldn’t,” you nod. Natasha raises an eyebrow at your ready agreement. “It’s not something to be ashamed of. Lena sees someone. I do too.”

She blinks. “Really?”

“Yes,” you laugh, “Baba takes me every other Thursday. I have horrible abandonment issues. I guess after everything that’s happened, I’ve kinda internalised some stuff.”

“I definitely took advantage of that,” Nat says guiltily. “I’m sorry. Honestly, I am.”

You look at her. “I know.” Your hand squeezes hers before letting go and she instantly aches to feel it again. “I’m sorry, too. For not… I don’t know, setting more boundaries. Or being more forceful.”

“No, no, it wasn’t your fault.”

You hum, and the two of you sit in silence for a long while as the sun begins to retire.

“You know,” you say suddenly, “you don’t have to move across the country. You can if you want, obviously, it’s your call, but if it’s just because of me… you don’t have to.”

“But-? I’m trying to give you space? To heal,” she says confusedly, and you laugh.

“And it’s very sweet, but I don’t need that much space. I’ve already forgiven you.”

Natasha’s soul leaves her body. “You— huh?”

“I have,” you laugh kindly. “I did some of my own thinking, and I just… I don’t know. I don’t think you need me being mad at you, on top of everything else going on in here.” You tap at her temple gently to emphasise your point, and she shivers. “And I don’t think I need that either. I don’t want to carry that with me.”

“Okay,” Natasha breathes. “T— thank you.”

You wrinkle your nose at her affectionately. “You’re silly.”

She’s awash with the overwhelming need to kiss you, and instead twitches a little, digging her nails into her palm. You take in the movement with such wide-eyed concern that she has to close her eyes for a moment, because she’s almost ill with how much she feels for you. This feeling only grows more intense as you continue.

“I know we’re… whatever we are, but… if there’s anything I can do for you, let me know,” you say more quietly. “I know you’ve been through some stuff, and even when you’re seeing someone for it it can get overwhelming. I do care about you.”

She nods, and swallows thickly. “ I don’t— I— uhm. What does this make us?”

You can hear her hopes heavy on her tongue, and your heart is like lead. “Friends?” you offer. “I— I don’t think we should be anything else, right now.”

Natasha nods, and swallows thickly. With it she swallows back the words but I love you. It must be written across her face, though, because you cup it between your hands (which really isn’t helping her self-restraint at all).

“I love you,” you tell her honestly. “And I always have. But love isn’t… you don’t… I don’t know. That kind of love is something that you earn, I think. And we both need to take care of ourselves.”

“I understand.” Natasha’s voice is hoarse, and barely above a whisper. “And I want you to feel like I respect your decision. But I also want you to feel like I’m serious. About you. And I will prove it if I have to.”

Against your own better judgement, you smile at her.

One thing about Natasha Romanoff is that she’s not a quitter.

Some would say it’s an endearing quality. More would probably tell her it’s the reason she finds herself in so many messes in the first place. What’s objectively certain is that she’s a stubborn little shit — and and with this determination she’s decided she’s going to win you back. Your slight encouragement, no matter how vague, is enough fuel for a fire that could simmer for months.

It starts as chocolates, and flowers. At this point she seems to have cottoned onto the fact that you’re not one for big, theatrical confessions of love, but rather consistent affirmations of it. Actions, not words, she’s heard you say (although now more than ever before she’s seeing for herself what you mean). So there’s no four-act sonnet recitals when you receive her gifts — although you don’t really receive them at all, in the traditional sense. Rather they seem to begin popping up everywhere you go. At one point you open your locker to a bouquet so over-endowed that flowers begin to tumble out onto the floor. Sam steps neatly to the side and watches with glee as you scramble to clean the mess. (He’s most definitely enjoying watching all of this play out.)

Your favourite of all these surprise gifts is probably one delivered by your own four-legged Cupid himself. Liho headbutts the door to your room open and stalks in with a scowl on his face and something attached to his collar. As soon as you remove it to inspect it he rolls onto his back and looks up at you expectantly, clearly expecting compensation for this favour.

“Yes, you’re a very handsome boy,” you tell him distractedly, using one hand to rub his belly while you attempt to unfurl the note he’s delivered with the other. Yelena lets out a noise of amusement. She’s perched on your bed with the Kardashians paused on her laptop in favour of watching this play out instead.

“You are so ungraceful,” she comments mildly, making no move to help you.

“I love how you always see the best in me,” you reply through gritted teeth.

After a moment, you manage to succeed in your task. I picked these for you :), the letter reads. You glance over at Liho’s collar again to see a tiny bunch of forget-me-nots, only slightly battered from their journey and bound neatly by brown twine.

“Another gift from the mystery girl?” Yelena teases, and you groan.

“Okay, saying mystery girl is officially banned. It’s giving me war flashbacks.”

“And that is fair,” your sister muses, getting to her feet to inspect your latest delivery. After she’s done she sits back on her heels. “You don’t have to keep turning her down, you know.”

“What do you mean?”

“Well, if it’s just because of me. You have my… blessing, or whatever. But on the condition that you’re not gross about it.” She rolls her eyes, and nudges your cheek with her nose. You squirm good-naturedly.

“Why thank you, your Grace.”

“Yes, I’m the graceful one,” she preens.

“Sure,” you snort, and she smirks. “Um, thank you, though. That’s good to know. I guess I’m still… figuring it out, but she’s growing on me again.” And it’s true. You have your reservations now, but she’s trying to remind you why you first fell for her (and yeah, she might be succeeding). Part of you wonders if she’s turning on the superficiality again, but after she spilled her guts to you on the swing set you’re trying to have faith that she really is turning a new leaf, and charming you authentically.

Yelena considers this. “Yes, okay. This makes sense. Remember to tell me if she tries anything again though. I will put them up.” She raises her fists and you giggle, but you know she’s at least partially serious. She’s very athletic in her own right and people at school go out of their way to avoid crossing her. That’s how you’ve stayed out of trouble your whole life — by standing behind Yelena and letting her handle it instead. Where you hesitate, she dives right in. You adore that about her, though.

“Do you know what you’ll do once she’s out of state?” Lena asks, and you shrug.

“Figure it out as we go, I guess. I don’t know if she’ll lose interest in me.”

The blonde looks up fiercely. “If she does that I will stick them up.”

You beam at her, admittedly less for the violence and more for the sentiment behind it. She beams back for reasons more ambiguous.

“Do you know what we will do?” Yelena queries. Upon your frown she elaborates, “next year when it is our turn to pick college. You and me, what will we do?”

“Pick the same one, and both get in because we’re super smart, and we’ll be roommates. And you can make us mac and cheese every night,” you say, as if it’s the most obvious thing in the world.

She contemplates this.

“Okay,” she says, seemingly satisfied with your answer. “Can we hit play now? I want to know what’s happen to Kim’s diamond earring.”

“Two cookies say she gets it back.”

“Two cookies say eat my ass the way a fish ate her earring,” she retorts, and the two of you settle on the bed again. (You have two more cookies than usual after dinner.)

Despite the witticism you take Yelena’s blessing with pride, and it means a lot more to you than you let on. Now that every single member of your family has shown their support for your relationship you can’t help but feel a slight ray of hope, the likes of which you thought had been stomped out long ago. Never before have you dared to imagine a situation where you could actually have a shot with the girl of your dreams, who you’ve wanted for as long as you can remember — and yet here you are, with her putting her back out working overtime to win you over, and your family watching with interest. Every morning you wake up a little warmer to the idea of letting this happen.

That doesn’t mean Natasha’s out of the woods yet, though, and you’re careful to make this clear to her. She senses your hesitance, and completely understands its presence. She’ll wait for you as long as it takes. (She’s genuinely stunned at how forgiving you have been of her, in all honesty.) In fact she takes your reluctances in her stride in a way that actually has you feeling more for her — but again, you know better than to repeat your mistakes of the past, and so you take this as slowly as you can considering she’s coming on strong and you live under the same roof.

Three months of summer lie ahead of you, stretching out like an endless expanse of sunset-tinted possibility. You and Yelena manage to land jobs at the video store in town — Yelena goes blazing into the interview and makes it clear as she can that the two of you are a package deal. Wong, the guy who runs the place, just seems grateful for the help.

The store becomes somewhat of a hangout spot for the two of you, who work the same hours and are joined at the hip like always, and it’s a safe bet to stop by if anyone wants to find you. Sam often swings by to playfully irritate the both of you, since the marina where his parents’ boat is docked is just round the corner, and Natasha will meet you when you’re closing to take you out for dinner after. (Sometimes Yelena tags along to these meals, and gleefully revels in the awkwardness her presence causes.) Since you and Yelena are twins again too, things are looking up for your friendship group and they’ve taken to visiting also. You’re delighted to spend time with them again. (Seeing Makkari’s face light up when she steps into the Deaf & Subtitled section of the store makes your whole week.)

In fact, word seems to have gotten out about the fact that Wong’s employed you, because one sleepy Tuesday afternoon Bucky Barnes drops by to rent a DVD. He picks one at random, not even glancing at the cover, and as you scan it through for him he says to you lowly, “thank you for making Natasha happy again. She cares so much about you.” He offers you a genuine smile before heading out abruptly and almost forgetting his DVD in the process. (You suspect his purchase was a mere means to talk to you.) It’s a strange interaction, but decidedly more pleasant than your last with him, so you take it no further.

Another perk of having this job is that you have your own money now. You’re not really sure what to do with it at first; the only thing that occurs to you is that you want to get a gift for Natasha. At the end of the summer is her graduation — she’ll walk and wear the square hat and everything, and you’re very excited to embarrass her with photos of the event — and after that she’ll leave for college. Her graduation is the perfect time to present her with said gift, you decide.

You know you want the gift to be meaningful, but you’re not really sure of the specifics. Luckily for you, one night on the roof with Natasha is all you need for the inspiration to strike.

Can’t sleep, you text her one night, after hours of fruitless tossing and turning.

She replies immediately.

Me neither

Come down to my room :)

If you want to!!! she adds after a moment, and you can’t help but smile to yourself. She is adorable.

Omw, you tell her, rolling out of bed.

The door is unlocked!!!!!! just come in

You follow her instructions and slip inside. The room is cosily lit, with her fairy lights on and her little lamp shaped like Calcifer flickering merrily; the bed is unmade, as if someone’s been in it recently, but Natasha herself is nowhere to be seen.

“Nat?” you call out uncertainly, and squeak in surprise when her head pops through the window. She smiles softly at your reaction.

“I’m out here,” she tells you. “C’mon, there’s space for both of us.” She wriggles along her perch on the flat row of tiles of the roof, and pats the empty spot beside her. Antics like this don’t faze you after twelve years of friendship with Yelena. You clamber out beside her readily.

“Hi,” says Natasha a little bashfully, once you’re settled. You lean up to peck her lips and she flushes. “Y— yeah. Um, hi.”

“Hi,” you reply sweetly. “It’s nice out here.”

“It is,” she agrees, her gaze not straying from you. You take no notice, though; your sights are set to the heavens. No matter how much you snipe about how annoying it is to live in a small town, the views still take your breath away. The stars shimmer bright above you, as they do almost every night. They’re not the only beautiful sight your town has to offer; Wanda adores the rocky hills at the edge of town, where many scavengers like squirrels and raccoons have made their home (one boy in your grade, Peter Quill, has befriended one of the raccoons and affectionately named him ‘Rocket’. He visits Rocket every day after lunch with his leftovers from the cafeteria). Occasionally she’s able to convince everyone in your group to accompany her hiking there. Despite your grumbling, it does make for an enjoyable day out.

“I come out here when I can’t sleep,” she tells you quietly.

“I sit on the roof sometimes,” you reply, and you beam at each other. It’s true — you do, but sharing the information feels vulnerable. You’ve figured out how to hoist yourself up through the skylight in the loft and onto the utmost point of the house, but it’s an activity you’ve kept as your own for now. While you adore more than anything being twins with Yelena, and living your life with her, you’re also learning how to exist by yourself for the first time in your life, and enjoying having your own space. Your little corner in the attic has afforded you many freedoms, and not just material ones.

“You see the moon?” Nat asks. The planet in question hangs round and heavy over the horizon, not quite full.

“How could I miss her?” She’s the most beautiful thing in sight.

“You know the difference between waxing and waning?” Natasha prompts, and you shake your head, solely because you love when she talks about her passions. “Waxing is when the moon transitions from a new moon to a full moon — so she fills out. See, that’s what she’s doing now.”

“She’s nearly full,” you remark quietly.

“Yup.” She grins. “Now when she’s waxing, she fills in from the right side — so she kinda looks like a C.” She makes a C shape with her left hand and holds it up against the sky to confirm that, yes, while the moon is waxing it vaguely resembles the letter. “But soon she’ll start to wane — maybe next week? After the full moon. Waning is the transition from the full moon back to the new moon, so she shrinks away into nothing. She’s eaten away from the left side, so she looks like a reverse C.” Nat makes a C shape with her right hand this time, so that it’s reversed, and holds it up to compare to the moon. They don’t match up right now, but they’ll get there someday.

“This is my favourite period though,” she confesses, her voice dropping a little lower, “of the lunar cycle. When the moon is waxing.”

“Why?”

“Because it feels,” she hesitates. “I don’t know. It feels like gross to say out loud but it kinda just feels like, encouraging. Things are always changing. They won’t be like this forever, you know? The cycle keeps on repeating itself.”

“The cycle keeps on repeating itself,” you repeat, and she smiles at you.

“Yeah. You don’t think it’s… dumb? I don’t know, I’ve never brought anyone else up here. I —”

“I don’t think that at all,” you tell her, and she kisses you gently.

The next day you go out and buy a crescent moon necklace.

Natasha has been coming into your room more and more often lately, and you don’t trust yourself to not leave it lying around in plain sight, so one day while she’s out you enlist Alexi’s help to loosen one of the floorboards in the attic so you can stash things under it inconspicuously.

“It’s not for anything suspicious,” you tell him quickly, “you can look under it whenever you want. It’s just to hide gifts and —”

“Relax, sunflower,” he chuckles, “you are entitled to your secrets.”

The necklace stays hidden there until summer draws to a close.

The weeks fly by in a golden haze and before you know it, you’re getting ready for Natasha’s graduation.

Alexi is stood on the landing in his smartest suit, and flexing proudly in the mirror on the wall. “It still fits!” he booms triumphantly.

“Don’t forget to wear your nice shirt, лю��овь,” Melina calls up the stairs to him. “No one with holes in.” He deflates a little, and retreats back into their bedroom to change.

“He looks fine,” Yelena scolds half-heartedly as she lumbers down the stairs, holding out her wrists to Melina. “Can you do my cufflinks?”

“Where’s your please?” Melina retorts, but she sets her clutch down so she can use both hands to help her daughter.

“We have to leave in ten minutes,” Natasha announces as she bursts from her own room. “Семья, I know what you are like, and we cannot be late.”

“Relax, love.” Alexi reemerges from the bedroom in a different shirt this time. “I will go and start the car,” he starts down the stairs, “and— oh.” He pauses as several buttons pop off his shirt simultaneously. “Ебать.” He turns around and subduedly makes his way back up the stairs.

“Baba,” Natasha groans. “This is what I mean.”

“Hey! I am nearly ready,” says Yelena indignantly, nodding at her mother in thanks for doing her cufflinks before ducking in front of the mirror. “Oh shit, where is my tie?”

“Language,” reprimands Melina.

“See?” Natasha sighs exasperatedly. “Y/N/N is the only one who’s ready.” She hurries down the stairs to where you’re stood in the hall, watching the scene unfold serenely. You’ve been ready to leave for the last ten minutes. She beams at you and pecks you on the cheek just shy of your lips. You flush, and the crescent moon necklace burns a hole in your pocket. Now isn’t the time, though.

Eventually, you all make it into the car, with everyone now sporting correctly-fitting outfits. As always on car journeys, you’re in the back, sandwiched in the middle between Natasha and Yelena. Lena scrolls through her phone disinterestedly, headphones in, while Natasha vibrates on your other side with anticipation and nerves. You take one of her hands between both of yours and she stills instantly.

“I am very proud of you,” you say quietly, “to have made it this far, with these grades. You’ve gotten into your dream college. You can do anything. Today will go fine.”

She doesn’t speak for fear of bawling and potentially ruining her eyeliner, so instead she rests her head on your shoulder in silent gratitude. She doesn’t move until you arrive, at which point she shows you all to your seats (front row, you note) and disappears to the backstage meeting point for all of the graduates.

The actual ceremony doesn’t begin for a while, so Melina converses with the other parents seated around her while Alexi nods politely, and you and Yelena compete in a thumb war. Eventually Principal Rambeau steps onto the stage and a silence settles on the gathered audience.

“Thank you all for attending,” she begins. “We’re here to celebrate our wonderful seniors, who have put in so much work to make it here today, and walk this stage.” She continues like that for a short while before they begin to call the students’ names, and they each walk across the stage in turn to claim their diploma. Natasha is a little later on the register, so you just sit back and enjoy the show — you’ve lived in this small town all your life, where most people know of each other, and so you recognise or even know the vast majority of the people who make their way across the stage. Some of them choose to make a memorable exit from their high school career (like Happy Hogan who chooses to breakdance his way across the stage, or Ned Leeds who walks proudly in a hot dog suit), whereas others take the more graceful route (see Valkyrie King, a prominent athlete of the school, who walks with confidence and regally basks in everyone’s recognition of her). When Natasha Romanova-Shostakov is called, she walks the stage a little bashfully, and with a blush accepts the cheers showered upon her after several years of being the cheer team’s star. You clap and shout louder than anyone else, and to Yelena’s glee capture several shots of her in her square graduate cap. Front row seat privilege.

After the presentations, the students flood into the crowd and people break off into little groups. The air hums with the joy of people laughing and congratulating and embracing one another. Natasha makes her way over to you and Yelena, who are stood now with your parents beside the refreshments. She brightens when she spots you, and is instantly by your side, pressing a kiss to your cheek.

“There is my girl!” Melina cheers. An outbreak of hugging ensues.

You mingle politely for a while with the other families milling around your own. Natasha appears intermittently, being the centre of attention today. Yelena is by your side (with her arm annoyingly resting on your shoulder to remind you that she’s taller) until one of her hockey friends pilfers her to show her something. In the few moments that you’re unaccompanied, Natasha resurfaces from the crowd, takes your arm and leads you somewhere a little quieter, and a little less visible to the masses.

“I just, um,” she realises she’s still holding your arm and lets go of it with a blush, “I wanted to thank you for being here. Like actually. It means a lot to me. I know— I know that in a couple of weeks I won’t be here properly, and it might make things weird, but —”

Now is the perfect time, you decide. As she continues to nervously ramble you pull the crescent moon necklace in its little velvet box from your pocket, and present it to her. She falls silent and looks at you.

“It’s for you,” you say unnecessarily, opening it to show her the treasure inside. Her eyes widen. “I— I want to do this with you. I want to give us a try. I like being with you.”

And as you clasp the delicate chain around her neck, and lean up to press a chaste kiss to her lips, Natasha understands. Love is something you earn.

She entwines your hand with hers, and together the two of you make your way back towards your family.

#natasha romanoff x reader #natasha romanoff x you #natasha romanoff x fem reader #natasha romanoff x female reader #natasha romanoff #natalia romanova #black widow #high school au #marvel high school au #mama melina paramore reference u get a cookie if u spot it

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theaceace · 10 months

Text

While Dream was hanging out in the fishbowl, a few dreams and nightmares that (like the rest of the Dreaming) think Hob would be the best thing to happen to Dream in a long time and also that Dream has abandoned them all, go and start bothering Hob in the waking world

But because they're dreams and nightmares, it kind of manifests as (usually awful) hallucinations. Specifically of Dream, a lot of the time (look they're trying to get their lord's attention by needling his human, yes it's stupid, no they don't have any better ideas)

And Hob, with the same attitude that's carried him through 600-odd years is like 'well I guess immortal life is already so goddamn weird this might as well happen' and just rolls with the fact that he is having hallucinations now. Learns some coping mechanisms, gets really good at not reacting to them even when horrible terrible things are happening

So when Dream finally does get back and goes to see Hob, he's just like oh cool I'm seeing things again, thought I got over that like ten years ago, ah well got a lecture to finish, better get on with it and barely even glances at Dream

Dream, of course, reacts to this like 🥺 like the sad wet cat he is, but also maybe this is a bad time. His friend is shaping young minds, he's very important and busy, Dream can come back later

So he pops back into Hob's life that evening when most people are, if not asleep, then at least at home. Hob's in the New Inn (of course) but it's quiet enough that Dream thinks maybe Hob will talk to him this time

Absolutely nothing. Like sitting across from a brick wall (and because Dream tends not to be noticed if he wants, and he very much doesn't want to be perceived while he begs forgiveness from a mortal, people's eyes just kind of skim over him, which isn't helping with Hob's assumption that he's a figment of Hob's imagination)

Dream is feeling very, very cold. None of the gentle things he's been saying to Hob have got anymore reaction than his hand tightening slightly around his marking pen (Hob is waiting for something horrible to happen, as it so often used to when he imagined his stranger, and is getting more and more tense the longer it doesn't)

Eventually they're the only ones left, even the bar staff have gone home because it's Hob's pub and he has a set of keys. So finally, FINALLY Hob looks up and is like 'oh, you're still here. We're still doing this, then' flatly

Dream: I thought I might - (he was going to say apologise) Hob: yes alright get on with it, the sooner you start the sooner you can piss off again (thinking this is a vision here to torment him) Dream: ...very well. I understand, and you need not worry, I shall not trouble you further. Only, let me ask, one final time: do you still wish to live? Hob: (well it's never gone down like this before, at least I'm getting some variety in my waking nightmares) what sort of bloody stupid question is that, obviously yes! Dream: I am. Pleased to hear that. Goodbye, Robert Gadling

So off he goes, leaving a bottle of wine that he pinched out of someone's dreams on the table. Hob scoffs, rolls his eyes and goes to bed

And panics the next day when one of the bar staff asks where the super fancy wine came from, and also who his friend was last night, didn't get a good look at him, but I don't think I've seen him before?

There Hob is. Screaming internally, because he's only gone and fucked it all up and now he's NEVER going to see his friend again

(obviously he does, probably because one of the nightmares finally confesses what they did to Lucienne, who tells Matthew, who speaks both fluent Dumb Human and Dramatic Fucker Dreamlord and manages to get the two of them in the same room long enough to talk it out)

#Dreamling #Hob Gadling #dream of the endless #On today's episode of 'fics I have so vividly in my head and Simply Cannot Put To Paper'#Have some angst. On the house

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dragon-kazansky · 10 months

Text

Midnight meeting

Astarion x Reader/Tav (GN)

Spoilers for the end of the game

It's done. The tadpoles are gone and all that's left is the future waiting for you to start a new chapter of your life. There's one person you're not going to leave behind, however.

Warnings: None really. Fluff. Astarion being Astarion. Not ascended. My game glitches at the end and I couldn't see the scene with Astarion, just Gale and Shadowheart T-posing while the dialogue popped up. So I wrote this.

♡♡♡

The sun had set on, what you could only describe as, a terribly busy day. The fate of everyone and everything relied on you and your friends taking down an Elderbrain.

If someone had told you a few years prior this is what your life would become, you wouldn't have believed them. Yet, you wouldn't change a single thing about it. Any of it.

There have been good times and bad times. It had been a struggle. There were nights where you lay there wondering if that night would be your last. There was also Astarion.

Your darling Astarion.

When the time came for him to make a difficult decision, you had been there to help make the choice. You had grown so close to the vampire, he opened his heart to you. A relationship blossomed unexpectedly. At first you were his entertainment, his guarantee of safety. Then he fell for you for real and he wasn't sure what to do about it.

One night he made up his mind. He liked you. A lot. You were sticking by his side through everything and he wanted more of that. You were so patient. So understanding. So kind. He didn't think he deserved any of it, but he was certainly glad to recieve it all.

You had become his person.

However, now that everything is right in the world again, the tadpole gone and people can go back to living their lives, Astarion can't help feeling guilty.

You had talked him down from ascension, which he was glad for, but also sad about because he could.no longer walk in the sun. He missed the days of waking up and seeing the sun shining on your beautiful face. He missed how it's warmth felt on his skin. He missed how happy you looked during the day.

Here you were, just past midnight, sitting by a fire keeping him company. He is watching you quietly. The glow of the moon filters in from a window. You look beautiful. Yet, his heart his heavy. He feels guilty.

You can feel his eyes on you. You lift your gaze. Those stunning red eyes are gazing at you, but you can tell he is lost in thought. You frown softly.

"Astarion?"

He doesn't move. Whatever is on his mind has really taking him away. Slowly, you reach out. Your hand finds his and your fingers curl around his pale skin. A slight jolt rocks through his body and he blinks. His gaze is on you and he is seeing you again.

"Apologies." His voice is soft. Distant.

"Are you alright?" You ask softly.

"Fine." Astarion turns his head back to the fire, but you can see the way he sulks. You move closer to him, shuffling into his side. Your arms wrap around him in a gentle embrace. You feel the way he craves your touch.

"Talk to me, Astarion. What's on your mind?"

He is silent for a few moments, but when he speaks his voice is soft and sad. "Are you happy?"

You look at him in disbelief. "Is that a real question?"

He nods.

You can't believe he ever felt the need to ask something life that. You lift a hand to his cheek and caress his cold skin. "I'm happier than I have ever been."

"What I mean is... are you happy with me? Staying with me is... is to be stuck in the shadows with me. You have no reason to deprive yourself of the joys of life to stay by my side. I... won't ask that of you."

"Astarion, you're not depriving me of anything. I love you. I will stand by your side because that's what I want. I won't ever leave you by yourself in the shadows."

Astarion's eyes glisten. He looks like he wants to cry. You stroke his cheek with your thumb softly.

"Do you hear me?" You ask softly. "I'm her because I want to be here. I love you more than anything. I am not about to abandon you after everything."

Astarion can't help himself. His arms wrap around you and he pulls you into his chest. He holds you tight and buries his face into your shoulder.

"Gods, I don't deserve you."

You smile.

"I'm exactly what you deserve."

The two of you sit like that for a while. Astarion has never been more grateful for anything. Meeting you, letting you talk him down from ultimate power, and for you chasing him into the shadows when it was all over.

You're his most precious gift, and he will never forget that.

#astarion x reader #astarion #baldurs gate 3 #bg3

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phoenixkaptain · 2 years

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Just imagining Baby Padawan Qui-Gon on a mission with Master Dooku and Yoda. Yoda is just hanging out on Dooku’s back, Dooku is like: “I thought I wouldn’t have to carry you around after I became a Knight” and Yoda’s like: “A Padawan’s duty it is, to support their Master. Carry each other, we do, as Master and Padawan. Insignificant your status is, my student I see you as always.” And Qui-Gon just has a realization.

Cut to later, after the mission is over, and Dooku notices Qui-Gon has been mulling over something. So, like a good Master, he’s like “What’s on your mind, Padawan?”

Qui-Gon hesitates, then asks, “Master, do you see me undependable?”

Dooku: “Of course not, Padawan.”

Qui-Gon: “Master, you don’t have to lie. Just tell me how I have to act to change your mind.”

Dooku: “You are very dependable, Qui-Gon, where is this coming from?”

Qui-Gon takes a deep breath: “You never ask me to carry you, Master.”

Dooku.exe: stops working

Dooku: “…what?”

Qui-Gon: “I know I’ve yet to reach your height, Master, but I assure you that I can lift you up! You don’t weigh that much, Master, I can carry you! You can depend on me, Master!”

Dooku: “…is this about the mission with Yoda?”

Qui-Gon: “Master Yoda said it’s a Padawan’s duty to support their Master. I can support your weight, Master, I promise.”

Dooku tries really hard to convince Qui-Gon that that is not what Yoda was talking about, that Yoda was teasing him, it wasn’t a literal thing, but Qui-Gon refuses to be convinced. Qui-Gon just gets more and more sad, convinced that Dooku doesn’t see him as someone he can lean on, and Dooku is like: “Qui-Gon, I am NOT going to make you carry me, you are twelVE-“ and Qui-Gon just: “You think I’ll drop you, you don’t trust me, how can I earn your trust, Master, I promise I can do it, please depend on me.” And Qui-Gon eventually gets his way, because Dooku is weak.

So we just see twelve-year-old Qui-Gon piggybacking Dooku around the temple. Qui-Gon is taking very slow steps and his tongue is stuck out in concentration because he has to partially lift his Master with the Force (Master Dooku is heavier than he looks, Qui-Gon thinks to himself) and everyone is staring at them because they’re very confused and Dooku is trying really hard to fight the urge to bury his face in his hands to hide.

They reach Yoda, eventually, who stops them and asks what’s up and Qui-Gon, positively beaming depsite the fact that he is trembling and sweaty and tired from carrying a grown man on his back for over an hour, just says: “You were right, Master Yoda. I realized on our mission that I’ve been making Master Dooku do all the carrying, so I decided to even the scale.”

And Yoda just looks at this cheerful boy and then looks at his old Padawan who is sending out very strong “don’t look at me” vibes in the Force and Yoda just says: “Good work you have done, Qui-Gon.” Because what else is there to say??? Qui-Gon looks so proud of himself! Yoda can’t admit he was trolling, not when Qui-Gon is so cheerful about learning from him!

All this to say, years later, Obi-Wan just drags a half-passed out Qui-Gon on his back, and it isn’t even really a piggyback because Qui-Gon is just draped over top of him, but Qui-Gon is like: “Wow, Obi-Wan. I didn’t even have to ask you, you just knew about this, you really did your research” and Obi-Wan is like “??? Yes, Master, I read the briefing for the mission, you said you weren’t going to, one of us had to-“

And years more later, Force Ghost Qui-Gon watches Anakin casually sling Obi-Wan over his shoulder and Qui-Gon just smiles and is like “I knew it. He really was meant to be a Jedi.”

And more years, more later, Ahsoka is dragging Anakin the same way Obi-Wan dragged Qui-Gon and Qui-Gon is SO proud!!!

Even longer, after everything’s gone to shit, and Luke is carrying around Yoda (he never got the chance to carry around Obi-Wan, Qui-Gon understands) and Qui-Gon is super pleased and Obi-Wan is like “???”

Qui-Gon: “Padawans are supposed to carry their Masters, just as their Masters carry them.”

Obi-Wan: “Yes, I remember hearing that as well, as a youngling, but I think it was supposed to be metaphorically.”

Qui-Gon: “That’s impossible, Obi-Wan. Dooku allowed me to carry him around.”

Obi-Wan: “…”

Obi-Wan, internally: So Dooku was the reason Qui-Gon randomly demanded to be carried… I would say I can’t believe this, but it’s Dooku, so I can.

(Then, Luke eventually trains Grogu for a little bit, and Qui-Gon is like: “ :0 Luke, no!!! He’s supposed to carry you!!!” And Luke is like: “??? He’s a baby.”

Qui-Gon: “I carried my Master when I was twelve :/ “

Yoda: “Determind you were.”

Qui-Gon: “You have to let him carry you, Luke, or else this just won’t work out!”

Grogu eventually ends up leaving and Qui-Gon is still muttering about how it never would have happened of Luke had just listened to him. Luke has mastered the art of tuning Qui-Gon out. Obi-Wan and Yoda wish they could do the same…

So, when Luke starts teaching Rey or someone, as his actual Padawan instead of just a student like the others, Qui-Gon is like: 👀

Luke: “No.”

Qui-Gon: 😔

And, long story short, Rey carries around Master Skywalker, at first because it made it much easier to make fun of him for being short, but then because Rey just finds it easier to get Luke to do things if she is physically carrying him to the thing he has to do.

Qui-Gon is so proud of them. Obi-Wan is so tired. Yoda wonders if he regrets inadvertently teaching Qui-Gon this, then remembers how absolutely mortified Dooku was whenever Qui-Gon piggybacked him around and Yoda decides that it was actually the best lesson he had ever inadvertently taught in his life.)

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m4ttsturn · 9 months

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my brother's best friend (pt 1)

pt 2 pt 3 pt 4

pairing: matt sturniolo x y/n

summary: over the years you find yourself falling more in love with your brother's best friend.

warnings: none yet

this is the first story I've ever written, so sorry if it's bad. anyway, hope you guys enjoy.

· · ─── ·𖥸· ─── · ·

(the first day i saw him)

"mom!" I ran down the stairs. "yeah, what do you need?" "where's Nate? he said he would go to the movies with me over an hour ago." I was beginning to get upset, Nate promised that he would take me to see Spider-Man Homecoming with him. "I'm not sure, he said he would be home by 5" she responded. I let out a heavy sigh before walking out of the kitchen.

I went into the living room and sat on the couch, aimlessly scrolling on my phone. I watched as the minutes on the clock slowly ticked by, my eyes flicking to the front door every few seconds. it had been 3 hours before Nate had finally showed up, laughing as he walked through the door. three boys followed close behind him.

"dude that movie was so good" Nate said as he kicked off his shoes. "yeah, I still can't believe the way Spider-Man saved the Avenger's plane" one of the other boys spoke. I coughed loudly drawing the attention of my brother and his friends in the entryway. making eye contact with Nate, his face flashing with realization. "oh shit, y/n I'm so sor-" Nate tried to speak, but I stood up abruptly off the couch walking to my room and slamming the door.

the second I closed the door I could feel my eyes watering. it was one thing for Nate to blow of our plans because his practice ran late or something, but for him to go without me even though we had planned this out ever since the trailer came out, hurt. especially since he went with three people I've never met instead.

I jumped onto my bed, burying my face into the pillows. I could hear four sets of footsteps approaching my bedroom before someone knocked on the door. I knew it was Nate because he used the secret knock combination we came up with in order to tell if it was each other or our parents knocking. "go away Nate" my voice was muffled by the pillow. Nate had opened the door anyway, "y/n look I'm sorry, I totally forgot that we were planning to go to the movies today" I turned to face him when he spoke "yeah, yeah whatever Nate."

I glanced around him, taking in the appearance of his friends, each looking similar, but I could tell the differences once I looked a little longer. I made eye contact with the boy who was standing behind them all, almost not visible. I blushed and turned my head away so none of them could see it. "you can go, you obviously want to hang out with these people more than me anyway." Nate gave me a sad expression before walking out of my room, closing the door behind him. as I listened to the sounds of footsteps furthering from my door I decided to read a book instead of wallowing around.

the next time I looked at the clock it read 12:37 am. I decided that I might as well call it a night and changed into my pajamas, which consisted of a tank top and a pair of women's boxers. assuming that Nate's friends had gone home by now, I didn't bother to put on something more presentable as I left my room to grab a glass of water.

when I walked into the kitchen I was met with three pairs of eyes on me, with Nate being in the bathroom. "oh, you guys are still here" I uttered as I went to grab a glass. ''yep, seems like it" the one with longer hair spoke. my back was to them as I filled up the cup with water from the fridge. once finished I turned around to face the three boys. "look I'm sorry, I'm not trying to be rude, its just that Nate promised me he would take me to see that movie months ago. anyway I'm y/n." holding out my hand to them. The one with a nose ring takes it first "Nick" he shook my hand. "I'm Chris" the one with long hair spoke, dapping me up. "and you?" I turned to the last boy, realizing it's the one that I locked eyes with earlier. "Matt" he smiled slightly as he took my hand. my face flushed feeling the electricity buzzing through my fingertips.

"okay well nice to meet you guys, but I'm off to bed. tell Nate that I said he better take me to see that movie tomorrow, I don't care if he just watched it." "will do" Chris spoke, Matt and Nick nodded along. I headed back towards my room and closed the door, still thinking about the feeling of Matt's hand on mine. "well this is going to be a problem" I mumbled to myself before shutting off the light and snuggling under my covers.

· · ─── ·𖥸· ─── · ·

Nate had brought the triplets over again, many times over the next few years. each time my crush on Matt grew a little stronger. besides that I had actually gained a friendship with all of them.

· · ─── ·𖥸· ─── · ·

a/n: I'm probably going to move this story on pretty quickly I just wanted to get a little backstory out first.

let me know if there is anything I can do to write better, criticism is appreciated

#sturniolo triplets #chris sturniolo #christopher sturniolo #matt sturniolo #matthew sturniolo #nick sturniolo #nicolas sturniolo #sturniolo fanfic #sturniolo x reader

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autistichalsin · 6 months

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My case for Halsin x Art Cullagh as a ship

First of all, these are two characters with a LOT in common. Both are intimately tied to the Shadow Curse. Both lost everything because of it: Halsin lost his homeland and Thaniel, while Art lost (temporarily) his sanity and would eventually lose his life to it.

Both care very deeply for Thaniel (and, later, Oliver). Thaniel was Halsin's first friend, who "made (Halsin) who (he) is today", while Thaniel helped Art in the Shadowfell. Thaniel played with both of them. Both of them felt protective- one might say paternal- towards Thaniel. Art tells the player that Thaniel is a sweet soul- too sweet for the Shadowfell- and he can't wait for the player to meet him.

Both are kind, gentle souls with a strong sense of justice and a call to do right in the world- Halsin by fighting against threats like the Shadow Curse and the Absolute, Art by being a Flaming Fist.

The link through Thaniel is strong (and not just in the "Thaniel has two daddies" sense). Thaniel tells Art about Halsin; Art repeatedly says that Thaniel told him that only Halsin can save him, that Thaniel "spoke of little else".

After being comatose for who knows how long, when Art startles awake and calls out for Thaniel, the first person he sees- and the first person to speak to him- is Halsin. Halsin, who instantly kneels to softly, kindly tell him to relax and breathe- a heartwarming way to be introduced to someone (and indeed, the devnotes say, "warm. Good bedside manner.") As soon as Halsin mentions that he too wants to help Thaniel, Art recognizes him, saying in shock (perhaps amazement?) "You're... you're Halsin," before repeating his request that Halsin find Thaniel. Which Halsin instantly agrees to, but repeats that he needs Art's help, and Art gives it.

When the curse is lifted, Halsin tells the player how sad he is to be leaving Thaniel's realm, how he hopes Thaniel and Oliver will stay as a pair because then they can have a friend after he's gone... clearly missing them, but knowing he has a greater mission in stopping the Absolute. What does Art say if you talk to him in the act 2 epilogue? That he feels Thaniel should have someone with him when he wakes, so he's staying. One might even argue that Art staying is the reason Halsin felt so comfortable leaving- sad, yes, but not worried. He knew Thaniel and Oliver were in good hands with Art. He trusted the two halves of his best friend to Art.

Art knows, tragically, that he's going to die soon after. He mentions it to the player, and in the epilouge, he sends this note to the player:

To an old acquaintance, I write to you from the sunny porch of the Last Light Inn. A light breeze blows now and then. People are milling in and out - builders, visitors, the children of all ages in Halsin's care. I can no longer hold a quill, or eat without assistance - a kind friend is transcribing this for me. Thaniel, re-joined with Oliver, has promised to be with me when the end comes, and as our old songs drift on the wind, ever louder, I know I have mere days left. But I do not fear it. If not for your help, this land would still be shrouded in darkness, and I'd still be lost within it. Know that my heart is full and happy, and I am grateful for my last moments. Do visit some day. And if you have time to stop by an old Flaming Fist's grave, I know I'd love to see you. Art Cullagh

Halsin and Art are still in contact. Art lived long enough to get to see Reithwin being reconstructed- by Halsin. Halsin lifted his shadow, Thaniel and Oliver's shadow, and brought Art peace during his last days- including the peace of having his close friends with him as the end comes. And presumably, Halsin himself stays- it's hard to imagine that Halsin, of all people, wouldn't.

They just work really well as a tragic ship, brought together by loss and heartbreak.

Fittingly, that extends into scenarios when one of them dies. If Halsin dies before act 2, or dies when the portal collapses, and the player tells Art this, he is heartbroken- while he frames it primarily in terms of being sad the curse can never be broken now, he must also be sad that Thaniel's friend has been lost, too.

And if Art dies (either because Last Light fell or for some other reason) and the player learns what they need from Art's corpse? Well.... let's just say that Halsin has some VERY strong things to say for someone he barely knows.

Halsin: That is what I needed to know. It should be cause for joy, but... that poor man didn't have to die.

Player: His existence was worse than death. Now he's at peace, and we have what we need.

Halsin: True. But are we still deserving? Only time and nature can tell.

To think that he might not be worthy any longer of breaking the Shadow Curse because a man he barely knows died is.... quite an intense emotion. Almost illogical, and Halsin is an extremely reasonable person. Make of that what you will.

Alternatively:

Player: There was no other way.

Halsin: You can claim it so... but I don't think it will ever be true. Oak Father willing, we will soon lift the curse from this place. But I suspect a shadow will linger here, because of what was done to that man.

Again... these are VERY intense emotions. Understandably so, of course- Art was clearly Thaniel's friend, and he suffered so much only to die. But if Last Light falls, MANY people die besides Art, yet Halsin is focused on him- the only other person he mentions with quite this much grief is Isobel, and even she doesn't get a mention from him here. "A shadow will linger here, because of what was done to that man"? Not "what was done to those people" or even "what was done to Art and the others"? It is.... a very interesting way of phrasing it.

In conclusion: Halsin cares Art A LOT, Art deserves peace and happiness, and Thaniel and Oliver deserve two daddies. Flaming Bear is the ultimate tragic doomed ship and we are sleeping on this ship

#halsin #halsin silverbough #bg3 #baldur's gate 3 #art cullagh #thaniel #thaniel and oliver

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astrasae · 1 year

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Spider-Dust

Miles Morales x f!reader.

Miles and Y/n is both 16.

Alright people, let’s do this one last time.

My name’s y/n l/n, I’m 16 and I was bitten by a radioactive spider. And for the last 3 years, I’ve been the one and only Spider-Woman.

I’ve been given so many names, Spider-Woman, Spider-Girl, Spider-Dust. The last one is quite the best one.

I’ve saved the city, I saved my mom, my dad. Saved the city again. But I couldn’t save my loved one. Miles Morales. After then I stopped making friends. I put distance between everyone and me, so I could keep them safe. Until I couldn’t, my earth-22 got erased from existence because of an anomaly. At least that’s what Miguel says.

Now I’m here, I live at the HQ, Miguel gave me a nice room here, acceptable. I still don’t make friends, I only go on missions, alone. Capture bad guys, fight them, get them to HQ. I’m pretty good at my job.

So yeah, you know the rest.

Now here I am, having dinner at the cafeteria. Burger and potato chips, my favorite. Spider people everywhere, like really everywhere. But three of them caught my eye, two of them I know, one of them I don’t. Gwen and Hobbie has brought someone with them. I can’t really see their faces.

“Do you know that person, the one in the black suit?” I ask someone next to me. Curious about the new person. “No, probably just a new spider person.” They say. Yeah, now there’re gone, probably to the HQ, I finish my food and get going. Where, you would ask, to the HQ of course. My room is close to it and why not visit there. Maybe I could learn something about that new guy.

I can hear them talking from the doors, Miguel shouting, as always. As open the door, Miguel and I daughter eyes. “Y/n, right on time.” He takes a deep breath, pinches his nose. “Hobbie get her out of here, she shouldn’t see.” He adds. Hobbie gets up from the table to take me outside. I stop him, “Shouldn’t see what?” I ask simply. Looking at my surroundings. I see Gwen and I can definitelysee she is hiding someone behind her. “Hi Dust.” She calls me Dust, she says it suits me. And I’m okay with it. Now Hobbie is blocking my view, “Trust me Y/n. It’s for your own good.”

Their behaviors are really starting to irritate me. I push Hobbie aside, softly, I didn’t wanna hurt him. “Gwen get out of the way.” I simply say to her. Not tryna cause any trouble. “What are you hiding?” I look at her up and down, trying to read her body language. Finally she slowly moves, never in a lifetime I thought I could see him again.

“Miles?” His name is the only thing that came out of my mouth. Too many emotions in my body at the same time. Sadness, shock, happiness to see him again, and anger. The only person who knew my past was Miguel because he knows everything about everyone. He sweared to me once, to never tell anything to anyone. But if Gwen and Hobbie were hiding him from me, they probably knew. So he, Miguel, told them.

“How do you know my name?” Miles asks, hearing his name after a long time felt, different. I can’t look anywhere but his face. The face I’ve had feelings for. The person I’ve shared love with, laughed, had fun. With him, I was… I was a kind person, warm and sweet. I mean that’s what Miles used to tell me. But after I’ve lost him. I became, this cold, emotionless person. I am not proud of it, but at the same time I can’t help it.

“Don’t worry about it.” Is the only thing I can say to him. He just met me, he doesn’t have a ‘me’ in his world. So I didn’t want to scare him out with my past. “So you told them? My past?” I ask Miguel, my voice cracking. I don’t want to cry right now.

“I had no choice. When I saw Miles, I knew this would’ve happen.” He simply explains himself. I get it. They were gonna find out eventually. So there was no use of hiding it any longer. I turn my body to Gwen, “How long have you two known each other?” I ask her, just wondering.

“For a year.” She answers my question. “And 4 months.” Miles adds. Huh, he must’ve counted. “Good.” I say looking at her, I felt sad, yeah.

“Look, y/n. I should’ve told you, I-“ she explains while coming towards me. I stop her, “No, It’s okay. You didn’t know.” I simply tell her.

“It’s fine.” I feel empty inside, I look at Miles, his eyes. I take a last glance at him and turn around to leave the HQ. Gwen calls my name, I act like I didn’t hear it. There’s a spot in this building that not many people go. It’s a balcony kinda thing, has a good view. I go there when I feel down.

The balcony is quiet, peaceful. Until I hear some footsteps, Spidey-Senses go off. I can sense who it is, Miles. “Hey, can I sit with you?” He asks, sweetly. I missed his voice so much. So how can I deny him? “Yeah.” My voice cracks, yeah what a great way to show that I have cried a little. But he didn’t seem to notice, great, that means no questions.

“So, from the things I’ve heard. Your past, you probably don’t wanna talk about it, but maybe talking with someone could make you feel better?” He offers, that’s what I love about him the most, he has such a sweet and kind soul. “Thank you for your kindness, you know, you’re not any different from my Miles.” I keep my head down, not having any strength to look at his face. Because when I look at that face, memories come to my mind, and it is agonizing.

“I’m sorry for what happened, it’s horrible. Miguel showed us when he was explaining the canon events and bla bla.” I can sense that he is feeling down. But why? “You feel down, what’s wrong?” I finally turned my face at him, “My dad is going to be captain, means he’s gonna die. And it is a canon event.”

Now that’s horrible, because I know how it feels. I’ve lost everyone that was close to me, I’ve lost my family. “You know,” I stopped taking a deep breath, “I am an anomaly, I wasn’t supposed get bitten by that Spider, my Miles was. But instead of him, I got bit. And then, I fell in love with him. That wasn’t supposed to happen too. All the things I did, my whole life is an… anomaly. And it led to this, my world getting destroyed, erased from existence.” Talking these things with someone who understands me felt great.

“What happens If I stop it,” he looks at me, he has some ideas. And yeah, they are probably dangerous. “I just can’t, let it happen.” He is desperate. I feel bad for him. He doesn’t deserve any of this.

“Miles, we just met. I mean, you just met me but whatever you’ll try to do, I’ll be there for you. I’ll help you.” I take his hands in mine, hold it really tight to assure him that I’m there for him.

We look at each other, hope in our eyes.

a/n: soo, this idea popped in my head while I was in shower. Haha, and I said why not write it. Any yeah, there it is. There may be grammatical mistakes, or it may be boring. Idkk. I’ll probably continue this story if I can. And if people love it, I’ll maybe post it on wattpad. I mean why not?? That’s all I’m gonna say! Bye guys, have fun reading!

#miles morales x y/n #miles morales x reader #miles morales #across the spiderverse #gwen stacy #hobie brown #miles morales x you #into the spider verse #marvel #mcu fanfiction #spider man #miles morales fic #miles morales fanfiction

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goodolddumbbanana · 3 months

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I... I need Sun to get loose, man. I need Sun snap. I just can't take it anymore, seeing Sun just like that.

Right now, I hate Monty, Puppet and Foxy very much. Sun is right, who gave them the right to decide what they can do with moon?

Illusion of choice, they keep asking Sun but don't like the answer Sun gives.

Giving permission to my ass, like if Sun said no, bet they are still doing it.

So righteous, it feels sick. I hope Sun would never forgive them and cut ties with them. I hope Sun cuts ties with everyone else and starts a new beginning, even Moon.(earth and lunar have flaws, and they are really going in a thin ice right now, but still, they just think more for themselves and honestly, good for them...)

Because from the beginning until now, Sun was stuck, and kept being stuck.

Getting orders around by Moon, Monty, Puppet, Eclipse.... Forcing him making choices so obviously they still do it their ways, that Even Sun wants to save NM, no one would do that for him. And they only ask Sun, like just because what...? Suddenly they care for Sun's feelings? Heck no, they only do it so after that, Sun will stop crying and hating them because it is Sun's choice, it's Sun who decides to kill Moon, not Monty and Puppet.

To be honest, Sun and Eclipse are really alike, they are both getting trapped, if not the hand of others, so the hand of fate.

Sun getting pushed around like a joke, a trash can, by these people supposed to care about him.

And now some people, keep saying it is Ooc and Sun should forgive Moon and try more to change him?

Well I am sorry but I'd rather die than get back to my abuser, if they are not changing for the better. They are just like Moon, promise, promise, promise and then just do it worse, do the opposite.

And some people say New Moon is no longer abused like Old Moon, why did he get treated that way. Because back then, only Sun and Moon, and their co-dependents were never good, old Moon was not supposed to take everything on Sun, and Sun was not supposed to forgive Old Moon for every time Moon was doing something bad for him. Their relationship, was strained at best and toxic at the worst. Sun almost gets killed by Moon several times, and still keeps blaming himself, blaming everyone when it happens, because in Sun mind, it's not Moon fault, it's KC, it's Eclipse.

Sun is tired now. He is no longer trying to fix things himself, no longer letting people on his nerves anymore. (He tries his best okay)

And what does it connects to New Moon?

We have seen so many episodes recently, the way Sun keeps threatening people. Sun has threatened...? to kill Cat nap, Papyrus, creator, eclipse....? What does it mean?

It means Sun has gone tired, he finally learned that from Earth, because it turned out after Several therapy with Earth, Moon is not a good person and Sun was forced to be happy to keep Moon sane. And he shouldn't feel bad for thinking more for himself and some people would never change, not until they are seeing it themselves.

And it makes me sick in my stomach when people keep defending Moon, and say, think more for yourself is narcissistic behaviours, because you are supposed to forgive family no matter what they do. I am so angry at this mindset because as a person who grow out of it, it feels so hurt to be the one who tries to keep the relationship together while guess what... Nobody cares and just abused it. They never see it. For example my family, they never see how much their lashing out hurting me, just only about them, them, and them. And I always have to be the one to say it is not their fault, it's me, or someone else, again and again.

Growing up like that messes people up a lot. I have to numb myself, I don't even know what I feel anymore because I am not supposed to feel sad, I suppose to always be happy. Because I am happy making them happy.

And the breaking point happened when I went to college, when I get away from them. It hurts to think back, when I don't even have the nerve to think bad about them, not even in my thoughts.

I see Sun in me so much. Because of that, Tired of one person crap and then never take it from anyone anymore? Go girl!!!

Putting some boundaries for yourself is good, and if someone refuses to acknowledge it, well, good for them.

#tsams #sun and moon show #the sun and moon show #sams #tsams sun #sams sun

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pitifulbaby · 9 months

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Cold December Night

summary: Christmas is suppose to be the happiest time of the year, but how do you break the chain from the last sad ones?

pairings: Eddie Munson x Fem!Reader

warnings: angsty, and then fluffy, eddie and you have shared trauma, i guess fix it fic? honestly its sad but i promise it ends really really sweet! there isn't a lot of dialouge, i've never seen snow so if anything i wrote isn't correct you can sue me, eddie has big feelings, talks of depression, a hint of suggestive nature- blink and you would miss it, no use of y/n

a/n: once again i have literally been writing this, or trying to write this for like a year.. anyways i am glad i got this finished though! if you celebrate Christmas i hope you have a wonderful day, and even if you don't i hope tomorrow is amazing like you. 4.4k words.

stranger things masterlist

Hawkins, Indiana was a special place. Perhaps not in the greatest ways, but it sure was special. It was December 5th, 1988. Days were shorter and colder, clothes were longer and provided more warmth than the clothing you would wear during the scorching summer months. Physical wounds from 86’ were healed and turned into scars that were hard to explain.

1986 wasn’t a good year. The year started fine, you worked at a local grocery store- sure it didn’t pay much, but there were only so many job options in Hawkins. Trying to make enough money til Eddie graduated. You had graduated in 94’ the same year he was suppose to be graduating as well, but luck wasn’t on his side. You hadn’t known what you wanted to do after high school. Eighteen was still so young to decide on what you wanted to do for the rest of your life.

So you decided to take a gap year during 95’ to give yourself a year to figure out what you wanted to do for college- or even if you wanted to go. Getting a job to make ends meet.

Then like a repeat of the year before, Eddie was held back. You promised him if he graduated in 86’ that where you went to college- or if you went to college, you would take him with you if he wanted, but only if he graduated.

The two of you started dating when you were both 16. Young lovers turned out to be soulmates. You two shared a bond that was unbreakable and perhaps to others a little odd- but that was just because you both were a little weird.

Then suddenly 1986 happened. Eddie’s drug deal turned to watching Chrissy Cuningham be possessed and killed right before his eyes- the blame of her unexplainable death placed onto the metalhead. You got a call from Wayne in the early hours of the morning, him asking if you knew where Eddie was- worry evident in his voice as he told you what he came home to find, and what he didn’t find.

It was strange opening the door to Dustin Henderson, him and his odd gaggle of friends taking you with them to find Eddie.

Everything else happened so fast and yet seemed so slow. Finding Eddie, having to learn about the Upside Down which was this other dimension that lived under Hawkins. Everything in the Upside Down was the exact same as it was in the normal version of Hawkins- well, other than the monsters crawling around and who else knows what lurked in the corners no one knew about yet.

March 27th was probably the worst day of your life yet. Going into the upside down to defeat Vecna, a thing of nightmares- a strange, terrifying, whatever he was. He was the type of thing you would tell to scare people, a creature you would use in a make believe story told over a campfire at night to try and one up someone else’s story and scare the living daylights out of them.

Things seemed fine on your end, you and Dustin back in the right side of Hawkins before Eddie had to do what he thought was right, cutting the makeshift rope and ceasing you from getting to him, sacrificing himself to the demobats.

Watching him cut the bedsheet rope, his eyes trained on yours as he told you he loved you before he was gone. After that your body was on autopilot. Pushing a chair towards the gaping hole in the ceiling, getting a running start before tumbling through the upside down- hurting your ankle pretty bad but the adrenaline masked the pain that you should’ve felt.

Running out the door and towards the direction of swarming bats that circled Eddie and feasted on the male. And suddenly the bats dropped dead around him.

Holding his body close to yours as he bled out wasn’t a memory you wanted to keep, but it was one that wouldn’t ever go away. He tried to say his goodbyes, but you shot them down. Promised you would get him out of there no matter what.

And with a lot of trouble you managed to get him out of the upside down.

The rest of that night was a blur.

Vecna was defeated, his body disintegrating into the upside down that started to crumble and break as you and the others escaped. Once through to Hawkins the gate to the other side closed and sealed as if nothing happened.

Which was a lie.

Max was rushed to the hospital, she barely escaped death- but not without issues that would follow her for the rest of her life. They managed to reset her bones, and her vision wasn’t fully gone but it wasn’t great at all. She was considered legally blind, but with thick rimmed glasses she could still see. But things would still have a small blur to them.

During Vecna’s encounter with Max, Jason attacked Lucas. Threatening the boy and beating him as Lucas tried to save Max.

After the police and ambulance showed up to take Max away to the hospital, all the blame of the lives taken by Vecna were placed onto Jason. Though it wasn’t his fault, the evidence somehow seemed to fall onto him. The charges that were going to be placed on Eddie were switched to Jason and he was arrested for the murder of Chrissy, Patrick and Fred and attempted murder of Max.

Even if some of the things didn’t fully make sense on it being Jason’s fault, he was connected to Patrick and Chrissy. Found at the scene of Patrick's murder and Max’s attempt. Which was enough evidence for the police.

Taking Eddie to the hospital was also something you found awful. When questioned about what happened you put the blame on being attacked by a man and his dog. A man trying to make things right as he thought Eddie was the reason for it all and used his dog as an attack dog. No one questioned otherwise. No one questioned the odd marks that didn’t align with a dog bite or knife.

You came out alive with a fractured ankle and wrist.

Eddie came out alive with scars, a near death experience and one nipple.

But you two came out with shared trauma and separation anxiety.

Nothing from the upside down reared its head, no signs anything would come back had shown and that’s how things would hopefully stay. After the events that occurred, the trailer the two Munsons lived in was unlivable. Sure it could be restored, but neither Eddie nor Wayne felt comfortable in the house that was once a home. So all the unbroken things inside the trailer were moved out and the building was torn down.

No one would want to buy the trailer, plus it would be more expensive to remodel it than it was to completely tear it down. So, down went the Munson trailer.

Wayne moved into a small townhouse close to the plant he worked at, the neighborhood was new and quiet which was perfect for the elder Munson and his odd work schedule. Plus it was rather cheap, about the same as it was to live in the trailer- give or take a few.

Before this all happened you had been living on your own, much like Steve you had absent, rich, parents. But yours were more loving than his- as harsh as it is. Though your parents had moved out of state when you were a fresh face eighteen year old, they knew how much you loved Hawkins. And since you spent most of your life without them there to coddle you, they had no issue with you living alone. But they did kindly help you on and off with the bills.

So since you were on your own, just you in the small home, it didn’t take much convincing to get Eddie to move in with you. As much as he loves his uncle, he felt like he was old enough to be on his own- albeit with you, but truthfully at this point you and Eddie were seemingly one person.

The government had given you both a decent amount of hush money for the terrifying horrors experienced. And though money was nice, it wouldn’t heal the traumatic hell you and Eddie went through.

Physically you were both healed, though sometimes the wrist you had fractured would tingle- a pins and needles type feeling if you leaned on it. Eddie’s scars would itch, worse in the colder months and would often be applying lots of lotion. It took a while for him to let you see the scars, for him to let you help apply and creams to soothe the deep marks. He told you he could do it himself, reapply the dressings, that it was no issue.

But the soft cries you heard from him when he was locked in the bathroom told you otherwise.

After a while he opened up, more tears were shed as he showed you what was left of his body, he told you he wouldn’t be mad if you didn’t love him anymore after seeing him. After that you made him lay on the bed and pressed kisses to each and every inch of him, told him no matter what you would always love him, no matter his looks- you loved him for him, not his body.

It took a while for Eddie to become more comfortable again in his body, and he still had a long way to go. But he was just starting to be able to look in the mirror and not get upset, not be angry at what he saw.

The only people he let see without a shirt was you and Wayne, but of course his Uncle didn’t live with him anymore so he didn’t see his nephew shirtless as much as he did when they lived together. Eddie Munson was a furnace and because of that he preferred to sleep without a shirt. But, that changed after the upside down. He didn’t like the way the sheets or comforter would rub against the scars. So you two were still on the hunt for bedding that wasn’t aggravating.

Back to now, things were somewhat calm. Christmas was weeks away, and you were excited to celebrate it. The last two years the holidays were hard.

Christmas 86’ felt like it never happened, Eddie spent the day sleeping. His wounds were still healing from the dreadful day in March. You didn’t blame the metalhead for sleeping, truthfully that year leading into the next he spent most of his days bedridden. It took a while for Eddie’s spark for anything to come back, and you were there each step of the way to help him. Wayne that year, no matter how hard he tried to fight it, was set to work on Christmas Day. It didn’t snow that year, but it poured a frigid rain, a fog set over the town, bringing a gloomy atmosphere.

Christmas 87’ much like the year before was very mellow. Eddie didn’t really want to do anything big. So that year Christmas was spent between you and the two Munsons. The younger munson claimed he didn’t want anything or need anything that year, and the elder munson was all the same. But of course that didn’t stop you from getting them both something small. The day was spent like every other day, the two men played poker, a six pack was split between you three. Dinner was take out from some hole in the wall restaurant that was open on Christmas. No decorations in sight, it didn’t snow that year either.

But this year, Christmas 88’ was the year things seemed nearly normal again. Sure things would never be the same, but it was pretty damn close. The light was back in Eddie’s eyes, his hands didn’t shake when he tried to play the guitar, his humor was back and consisted of joking about what happened on the 27th of March. Which in turn usually ended up with him getting a gentle smack to his shoulder as he cackled.

Eddie decided every holiday this year must be celebrated to the most extreme- which was a contrast from the last two years. Though his main holiday priorities were Halloween, Thanksgiving and Christmas.

Never did you think you would be celebrating st. patricks day to the extreme but, that's what this year was. The year to try and get back to being okay.

The morning came, soft light seeping through the small, thin gap between the middle where the curtains met. With fluttering eyes you slowly woke up, focus starting to come back as you blinked a few times. Moving your hands to your face to rub the sleep from your eyes. The small movements from you caused a groan to be heard from the left of you. Eddie was asleep, laying on his stomach with one arm draped over you and the other hidden underneath his pillow. His lips were ever so parted, a gentle pout gracing his features. He was completely and utterly knocked out.

Before 86’ Eddie could sleep like a log, a bomb could go off in the next room and he wouldn’t be none the wiser. Then after March, for a few months, he could barely sleep- which soon turned into him sleeping his days away as a depressed state took over him. Which in turn caused him to be a very light sleeper. But as the months went by, mentally and physically he was healing, he was slowly going back to his heavy sleeping days, which you didn’t mind. You’d rather it take a bit to get him awake than him not sleep or wake up at the drop of a pin.

Your eyes landed on the sleeping boy, his once sharp features soft, letting him look at peace. With a gentle hand you tuck a lock of his wild dark hair behind his ear. Which in turn causes him to nuzzle his face more so into the pillow. A deep chill was casted over the room, colder than it was when you went into bed last night. Turning your head you look toward the alarm clock on the bedside table, reading the bright red numbers. 10:32.

It was a little later than you had been waking up, but after the wild night you had with Eddie last night, sleeping longer was most welcome.

Slowly and carefully you managed to wiggle yourself out of the metalhead's hold, putting a pillow in your place in Eddie’s arms. You hate to admit that it was rather difficult to get out of bed, not because you didn’t want to get up ( though very true. ) But you were sore, legs having a small wobble to them as you wandered to the bathroom. Stumbling a bit once.

After your trip to the bathroom you were pulling on one of Eddie’s oversized sweaters. A dark material with a skull adorning the front of it. It clashed wildly with your fuzzy pink gingham bottoms, but you didn’t care. After stuffing your feet into a pair of slippers, you were checking to make sure Eddie was still asleep. Pulling the blankets up higher on him before venturing off into the living room. The only noise heard was the shuffling of your feet and the overworking heater. You kneeled on the couch, knees against the cushions as you leaned over to grab the curtains, pulling them open before pulling the blinds.

Outside was- as cliche as it sounds, a winter wonderland. Upon the once dying grass from the cold was now a sheet of stark white snow. As the town of Hawkins slept, snow fell. It started off as a small flurry before coming down harder further into the night. But the fall had stopped and in its wake was sparkling snow. It was a decent amount of the stuff, you could see the neighborhood kids all bundled up and playing in the first snow of the season.

It didn’t take you long to quickly make a batch of hot chocolate, tearing open the small pouch of powdered chocolate and dumping the contents into some warm milk. Stirring the mixture into a mug. With the mug in hand, a fluffy jacket over the sweater you wore and feet shoved into a pair of Eddie’s much too big for you boots, you ventured off to the small porch.

Outside atop the porch was of course an outdoor couch with a small end table on the right of it. You held the mug between the palms of your hands to try and help warm yourself, pulling your legs up close to your chest with your back against the armrest- seated sideways.

You let your gaze wander, taking in everything your eyes could see. Your neighbor to the left was currently shoveling the snow off his driveway while his elder mother stood bundled up in the doorway, watching her son intently.

The neighbors to your right were currently putting up Christmas decorations, a middle aged couple trying to put the momma deer and her baby in the right place while their twin daughters stood back- telling them which way to turn the decorations.

All in all it was a heartwarming sight, though not enough to help warm you, but still sweet to watch. You watched as the kids across the street were in an intense snowball battle with a few of the other neighborhood kids. It was just now you realized how family oriented the small subdivision truly was.

The sound of the door creaking open broke you from the people watching zone you were in, tilting your head to the side to see the man of your dreams, Eddie. His face was swollen with sleep, hair a mess. He was dressed warmly, you could see a small hint of a sweater under his own thick jacket, his plaid sleep pants traded in for a thicker pair of sweatpants. His plush bottom lip turned into a small pout as he stared at you.

“You stole my boots.” Sleep was laced in his voice, and if you listened hard enough you could hear the faintest of a southern drawl in his words from the years of being around his father and then Wayne. The two older men both had thick southern accents. The male soon stepped out onto the porch, adorning another pair of his boots that were almost exact to the ones you wore.

“I didn’t steal them, just borrowed them.” You responded to him, it was at this moment you noticed the buffalo plaid blanket he held in his hand. He soon was seated next to you, gently taking the mug from you- but not before of course he took a sip of the cocoa. He placed the mug on the table before he was grabbing your legs and pulling you close. He rested your legs over his lap, wrapping an arm around your waist as he pulled you to his chest, placing the blanket over your lap.

“I was gonna ‘borrow’ your boots but I didn’t think the pink would go with my outfit.” Eddie said with a small chuckle, reaching forward to gently push a few strands of your hair out of your face. “Why didn’t you wake me up? Better yet, why didn’t you stay in bed with me?” He asked, his words a little slurred as he spoke low, almost as if he were sharing a secret with you.

With a purse of your lips you shrugged gently, head turned to look at him. “You looked so peaceful, and I was gonna come back to bed but then I saw the snow and was called out here.” Your gaze trailed to look at his mouth before flickering back up to his eyes.

“Called out here? What are you, an arctic fox?” His question was said as he gently shook you, his eyes going wide as he leaned in closer to your face. “And so what if I am? At least I’m not a worm, I wouldn’t survive these conditions.” Was your response to him, your hand coming up to gently smooth out his untamed curls.

“I would still love you if you were a worm,” Eddie replied to you, taking your hand away from his hair and pressing a kiss to the back of it. “Luckily I’m not a worm, because I wouldn’t have you there with me to give me kisses.”

The two of you spoke with hushed voices, words quiet- almost as if you were both afraid to ruin the moment you shared, though you knew nothing would ruin it, at least nothing you two could do.

“If you were a worm I would also be a worm, I would never let you be a worm alone.” He said like it was a promise, and you know it was. A smile creeps up your face, causing you to laugh at the serious demeanor in his features. “I would give you worm kisses!” He adds, the serious resolve crumbling as he smiles brightly at you. “Worm doesn’t seem like a word anymore- how did we even get to the topic of them anyway?” You had interrupted yourself, brows furrowing in as Eddie shrugged his shoulders at you.

You watched as his eyes wandered out to the scenery in front of you both, “I didn’t think it was gonna snow this year.” He finally spoke after a few moments of silence from either of you, “It hasn’t snowed since,” Eddie’s eyes squinted in thought, trying to remember the last time it snowed.

“What was it? January of 86’?” The male questions, more so asking himself rather than you. “The news didn’t say anything about any snow, I think it kinda just happened.” As you spoke you shivered, trying to huddle closer to Eddie. “I hope it lasts, or at least snows again on Christmas.” He spoke with a certain type of wonder that you haven’t seen from him since before that fateful day. “We could always put some snow in some buckets and then keep them in the freezer incase it doesn’t snow on Christmas.”

You spoke to Eddie, never letting your eyes falter from him. One of your favorite past times has always been looking at him, he was beautiful inside and out. He was a very expressive man and you enjoyed seeing every little expression. For the smallest twitch under his eyes to the wide smile with the deep dimples.

The words you spoke caused Eddie to laugh, brows pulling in as his gaze turned back to you. That wonder he showed to the snow somehow becoming more present as his dark eyes locked in on you. “That means we would have to take out the frozen pizzas and the ice cream to make room for the snow. You know I can't live without my sweet, sweet frozen rocky road.” His right hand pressed against his chest, no rings in sight. “You know you concern me for the fact you still eat ice cream and popsicles even when it's below freezing outside.”

He simply shrugs at your words, “I am a man of great taste.” Was his only response. You rest your head against his shoulder, snuggling against him. A shiver runs down your spine once again as a gust of cold wind blows, rustling through the trees and causing snowflakes to flutter off the once green leaves. “You cold?” Eddie questions, trying to pull you closer as he hikes the blanket up higher on you.

“No, I'm super sweaty.” You reply, your words a joke though spoken seriously. You can’t see it but Eddie rolls his eyes at your words, gently pinching your side which causes you to squeal. Not in any pain, more so in surprise of his cold fingers that he slipped up your shirt. “Why don’t we go inside and make some new hot chocolate? I’m afraid yours might have turned into a nice cold glass of chocolate milk rather than what it was.” You can feel Eddie turning his head to the glass as he spoke, taking note of the drink.

“That sounds like a plan.” You replied soon after, reluctantly getting off his lap, holding tight to the blanket. Eddie follows suit, but before either of you can walk inside you are grabbing his arm, turning towards him with a bright smile. His brows furrow at you with a tilt of his head, waiting for you to speak.

“I love you.” Your words are simple and true, causing your lover to smile bright as he leans in to press a sweet kiss to your lips. “I love you too.” He replies after pulling away from the kiss, taking your hand and leading you both inside- not before of course grabbing the mug from the table.

Christmas 88’ was much, much different from all the past years of the holiday. You both wore the cliche matching pajamas- the cheesiest pair that was affordable. The morning was meant for you both, the small bundle of gifts exchanged as well as kisses that tasted like peppermint and chocolate. Wayne came over around mid afternoon, bearing a few gifts for you both- and he of course was given some as well. Though he complained over and over again that it was too much, but you know he enjoyed them and it would all be used. For Christmas dinner Steve and Robin came over.Steve having been spending the holiday with Robin so he wasn’t alone- you had told them they were both welcome much earlier in the day, but they had a tradition to continue which you were told was a day of odd food combinations and movie after movie. Dustin popped over at some point, though he didn’t stay for long. It was a day full of love and cheer, lots of food and presents.

It snowed that Christmas, the first white Christmas in a few years. And as you and Eddie stood outside admiring the bad decorations you both put up, he was soon kneeling on one knee, a small box in hand with a ring nestled inside with the most important question on his lips.

#eddie munson imagine #eddie munson imagines #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson fanfic #eddie munson fanfiction #stranger things imagine #stranger things imagines #stranger things fanfic #stranger things fanfiction #stranger things x reader #eddie munson x you #eddie munson x y/n #eddie munson x female reader #eddie x reader #eddie stranger things #eddie muson fic

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